EdwardDewey98
Professional Argentine
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Multiple Settings Heroes of the New Age: The New Wardens [CLOSED]
- Thread starter EdwardDewey98
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Prologue
EdwardDewey98
Professional Argentine
The Bronx, New York City, New York
At 4:30 in the morning, the sun had yet to creep over the horizon and the skies remained dark. Yet in the city that never sleeps, that hardly ever mattered. Cars still drove along the streets and the city centered remained buzzing with activity. And for many in the city, they were already starting the early hours of their day as they started work early. Tyrell Williams was no exception as he got off his bed at the top floor of a large townhouse. He took a look at the time, managing to beat the alarm by a few minutes and went to wash himself. Though the mirror itself was old and cracked, it still served its purpose as he looked at his reflection and smiled. It was a day like any other.
Walking down the steps of his home, he made sure to not wake up his parents and brothers by moving cautiously. In the kitchen, he took the time to quickly make a breakfast of eggs while feeding the cats and their old dog. "C'mon Firulais." he muttered gently as the balding, fat mutt made his way to the bowl. He almost crashed into a flower pot but stopped by his owner who gave a gentle smile: "Let me help you boy." Tyrell said quietly as he gently picked the old dog and placed him by the bowl, only leaving his side as he began to chew on the kibble. Scorfing down some quick scrambled eggs, Tyrell then left to head for the restaurant which was practically around the corner.
The place was empty, which meant that he could work without prying eyes to quickly get things done - he practically whizzed through the kitchen as he prepped silverware and plates, carrying them by the hundreds as if they were nothing to him. He also took the time to look through the produce and stocks in the walk-in, making sure that his brother sneak into the kitchen last night for some midnight Tostones. With everyone settled and ready for the new day, he left and locked the door again. It was almost 5 in the morning by now, and the sun began to slowly creep up as he put on some airpods and began to jog through the streets of east Bronx.
"How ya doin' Tyrell?" shouted a garbage collector as he ran past them, to whom Tyrell turned around and waved towards with a big smile on his face. He kept jogging at a steady pace, watching as familiar faces slowly left their homes to get ready for work. He made sure to wave at them all, shouting a conversation with them about having a good day. But already the day was about to get eventful as he reached Hone Avenue; Tyrell took a moment to change the tune on his phone before noticing a commotion nearby. "Give me the keys, I ain' playin' bro!" said a young man with tattoos all over his arms and face. He had a gun pointed at another man, who was also inked up but wore a cleaners uniform. "I ain't giving you shit bro, I need this truck!"
The robber pressed his gun at the man's temple, undeterred by the pleas: "You think I'm playin' witchu bro!? Gimme the fuckin' keys or I smoke your ass!"
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Tyrell said, intervening as he walked up towards the two. Standing a good few meters away, his presence was definitely visible as the robber quickly pointed the gun towards the newcomer. "Oh yeah? Why? You gon' beat me up fool? Get the fuck outta here bro."
Tyrell smiled. "Don't throw away your life like this." he said, taking a few steps forward.
"Yo, stay back man! I'll fucking shoot you bitch!" the robber shouted, but Tyrell could practically hear the man's heart pounding. He was terrified under all that bravado, as though he had never actually killed anyone.
"Come on man, you don't gotta be scared. You can throw that gun off and run."
"I-I ain't scared of you bitch!" the robber shouted, hands trembling. But in what seemed to be the blink of an eye, his weapon was now in Tyrell's hands. With a simple squeeze, he crushed it and rendered it useless. "Go, and think what you're doing with your life."
The robber looked like a stunned deer as his wide eyes moved between Tyrell and the man he had just tried to rob, but not a moment passed before he quickly darted away as fast as his legs could take him. Tyrell sighed but kept a smile, before tossing the destroyed gun into the trash. The cleaner in the meantime let out a sigh of relief, practically bending down to put his hands on his knees for some support after the adrenaline rush of the situation. "Hey, thanks man. I owe you one!" he said, letting out a chuckle as he wiped off sweat from his brow.
"No problem, be safe out there my friend." Tyrell said, taking his leave to continue his jog.
Tyrell made his way back to the family business after looping around a few blocks, but due to the altercation he was a few minutes later than usual. On entering, he could see his mother - a short and old afro-Caribbean woman - getting her coat on. "Ay mi dios, Tyrell! Pense que te a pasao algo mijo! Ya te iba a busca!" said the portly woman as she hugged her enormous son. "Perdoneme mami, queria pasar po' la plaza un momento." he said before kissing his mother's forehead and hugged her back. "Dale que la ayudo!" he then said as he walked further inside, grabbing his white apron and blue bandana from the lockers near the kitchen.
On entering, his brothers, his father, and both his grandparents were already doing prep work for breakfast: cutting ingredients, prepping seasonings, and warming up the equipment for use. Before walking to his station, he made sure to give a hug to both his grandparents - the matriarch and patriarch of the family. They always prepared breakfasts in the morning, both for the homeless who needed it most and the elderly regulars that frequented the establishment as early birds. It was their way of giving back to the community that had kept them open for so many years. Tyrell helped his old man get the shutters open as the restaurant opened proper, and a small line had already formed for their usual customers.
"Un segundo mi panas." said Tyrell with a smile as his mother brought small containers with warm cooked meals inside. "Here you go momma." he said as he handed two containers over to a mother and daughter. "And a lil' something for you sweetie." he said before putting a smaller container holding a fruit mix inside. The mother barely made ends meet with working two jobs, and thus had to rely on the kindness of this place to keep her daughter fed. The mother thanked Tyrell again, managing to keep herself composed with tired eyes as the two walked off.
By 8 in the morning, the regular customers - mostly older folks of Dominican descent - had arrived at the restaurant and were ordering their usual. But when he noticed the time, Tyrell's father pointed it out: "Hey Tyrell," he spoke with a typical Bronx American accent, "It's 8 o'clock boy, ain't ya supposed to get to your deliveries?"
Tyrell quickly checked his watch and nodded. "Ah damn, you right pops. I'll be back soon."
"Take your time mijo, just tell us if you gonna take a while." his mother said as she cut up some plantains. Tyrell gave a pat to his father's back before making his way upstairs. He quickly took off his apron and bandana, setting them on one of the couches in the office upstairs before walking over to a large framed poster of Mariano Rivera. Behind the frame, as he moved the picture off its rest, was a small coded safe. Putting in the code as he had many times before, he grabbed its contents - a small package - and closed the safe before putting the poster back in place. He quickly walked down the steps, but instead of going out the front he went out the back into the alley just fast enough to avoid any prying eyes from catching his presence.
He took a good look around, making sure with his senses that nobody was around to see. His only audience were the few rats scurrying about, and he quickly opened its contents with a smile.
Flying in the skies above, Sentinel felt the air breeze past his face as he flew past the Statue of Liberty and quickly picked up altitude. This was the usual patrol down the eastern seaboard as he - after making distance from the city - broke the sound barrier and flew southbound. Within minutes he was already nearing Florida, though had seen little of anything that needed his attention and thus changed course to fly cross-country. Above the midwest, he flew close by to a passenger plane but kept himself mostly unnoticed. But he did see a little kid staring with awe from his seating, and he gave the kid a wave before flying further out. The vast expanses of farmlands and prairies invited Sentinel to fly faster, knowing that he wouldn't be a disturbance to many to reach the West Coast. But once he actually hit the ocean, then he could push himself further.
Once the blue waves of the Pacific greeted Sentinel's presence, and seeing that there was little need of him at the moment, he went all out several miles out from coast. Breaking the sound barrier again, he launched himself higher up into the atmosphere until the sky darkened and the void of space grew to encompass his vision. Down below, Earth became more curved until he could well enough see its circumference. All the people of Earth - all their lives and dreams - and all of the world's beauty and problems were visible from his vantage point. And despite all the problems they faced, he still could not help but smile. He loved the world, flaws and all.
With his velocity he took a quick glance over Asia, Europe and Africa before having circled his way around in re-entry back to the United States. Fortunately his suit was crafted from similar materials used in space shuttle re-entries, though it didn't stop it from smoking from the heat it gave off to the air around it. But a quick dive in the Atlantic cooled him off back to normal as he flew back to New York.
Tyrell walked back into the restaurant as though nothing had happened, arriving just as he usually does for deliveries at 10:30am. He made sure, however, to buy something extra for his grandparents. "Volvi!" he shouted, grabbing his apron and bandana and put them back on. Both of his elders were sitting by a small side table in the restaurant, somewhat deaf and blind from their old age, but still loved to have breakfast together after a bit of early working. "Abuela, abuelo, adivinen que le traje." he said, placing down a bag of Venezuelan Tequeños, a delicious snack from the republica bolivariana. Tyrell's grandmother, always thankful for her grandson's kindness, kissed his cheek before serving her husband for some coffee.
Now back in the kitchen, Tyrell went back to work in preparing ingredients; rice was his job as he washed the starches off to prep for its use. But he couldn't help but overhear his father talk with Bruce, a regular customer and family friend. "Sounds like the Ten bit off more than they could chew, eh?" said the old Italian-American as he put a small cube of sugar into his coffee. "You always say that, but I know they'll push 'em fish folk back into the ocean." Tyrell's father responded as the two watched the TV. Tyrell took a quick glance at the restaurant's old TV hanging off the corner of the wall to get caught up on the news.
"After an arduous battle that lasted almost a day, the Circle of Druids alongside members of the Olympian League, pushed the Fomorians out of Dublin. However, the emergence of the fishfolk and their monsters seemed to have stirred up the hive." spoke the reporter as the camera panned over to a dock worker, who was being bandaged by paramedics. "This is Jacob Morris, a heroic dock worker at the Newark Port. He was working this morning when suddenly giant crustaceans began to emerge from the ocean and attacked his peers."
"I-I-I w-was just drinkin' my coffee and telling my boss over the radio that e-everything was fine... then s-suddenly those things attacked! Me and Mickey and... I d-don't know how I got out of there, or how I dragged Mickey out after he lost his arm."
"42 year old Mike Kowalski is still alive but in critical condition. He alongside twelve other workers were injured by the monsters awakened by the Fomorians. But if it weren't for the efforts of the American 10, the day would have been lost." The camera changed views to video footage of the Iron Dame - a prominent member of the team - giving a quick comment on their arrival. "Fear not, citizens of Newark, for we have arrived to protect you!" she shouted confidently before running into the port with her teammates past the police cordon.
"The Ten continue to deal with this crustacean threat, ex-governor Chris Christie said 'This wouldn't have happened if I was still in charge.' In other news..."
"I don't know about Iron Dame. She seems like an okay gal. But Norton, now that's a hero." said Tyrell's father with a smile. "Don't you agree son?" he then asked, looking over back to the kitchen, noticing that Tyrell had been listening in. Tyrell gave a nod: "He's got honesty and conviction. Every hero needs that."
"I still think they should get that boy Sentinel into the Ten. He's a much better fit than that Trench guy. More American too." his father then said, which prompted Bruce to laugh. "That Trench guy is American, he's just from Hawaii." he replied, taking a sip of his coffee.
"Well yeah, but what I mean is we all know Sentinel better than we know the Trench!"
Tyrell couldn't help but smile, knowing that his father was proud of the work he was doing - even if he didn't know that Sentinel was living under the same roof as him. "He'd be plenty useful in dealing with those sea beasts." Tyrell looked back at the TV, which had now shifted its reporting to the middle east as American soldiers posed with members of another team.
"...after a series of attacks from rebel groups in the region, members of the Wonderful Eight arrived in Yemen to share their support for the troops." the reporter explained, showing images of their photo-op alongside members of the Army and Marine Corps. It then cut to a short audio snippet from Admiral Miracle: "Our troops are the backbone of our great nation folks. We may protect you from the monsters and villains, but it's our brave men and women on the frontlines that keep tyranny and communism away from American soil and keep our country safe!"
"I really don't like that redneck." Tyrell's dad muttered, shaking his head in visible disapproval.
"Hey quit bustin' his balls Marcus, he did save hundreds during Katrina and the Second Invasion." Bruce replied as he finished up the last of his coffee. But this wasn't enough to assuage the man's opinions as he let out a sigh.
"I know, I know. He's a hero and all... but there's something weird about that motherfu-"
"BREKAING NEWS: We have alarming reports that a group of armed bank robbers have taken almost a hundred hostages in Los Angeles. According to reports from the ground, the perpetrators seem to have highly advanced weaponry. Several officers have already been wounded and one killed." This sudden outbreak made Tyrell's eyes widen as he perked up on hearing this, and that's when Bruce called on him. "Hey Ty! Forgot to tell you son, but my daughter's asked me if I could have you come do some deliveries for her over in Manhattan. Think you can manage?"
Tyrell nodded: "Yeah, of course. Is Hakim home pops?"
"That boy off doin' god knows what, don't you worry son. I'll handle the rice until your lil' brother Avondre wakes up."
Tyrell smiled and gave his old man another pat on the back, then gave Bruce a thankful look before rushing out the back again. Thankfully, he had put his package atop the locker this time around for easy access.
West Hollywood, Los Angeles, California
Shots rang across the city of angels, as nearly a hundred patrol cars had blocked off the area surrounding the Bank of California as an official cordon, with a few more cars and two SWAT vans having parked themselves closer to the bank itself - though two patrol cars were on fire. The police were at a standstill, unable to deal with the situation as the robbers held an enormous amount of firepower that kept them at bay. One of the robbers wore heavy armor and a full face-mask wielded a minigun that he shredded yet more police cars with, setting them ablaze. Though the SWAT vehicles were still in use, they were quickly becoming crowded for cover for both those who could still fight and those that were wounded. Bullets pattered the side of the armored car before coming to a still as the robber ran out of bullets, and the LAPD began to return fire again. This opening allowed for more wounded, and a deceased officer, to be dragged out from the scene.
Meanwhile at the cordon perimeter, behind an official barricade where reporters had flocked to the scene, stoop the captain of the LAPD surrounded by other officers. "How many hostages!?" the captain asked again in disbelief.
"97 in total, they forced a few pedestrians nearby into the bank when they showed up." one of the lieutenants spoke.
The captain pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration and took a deep breath, "Have they made any demands?"
"No sir, radio silence from them... they aren't picking up calls made into the bank either. We know from sniper scopes that there is at least two wounded civilians in the bank: a guard and the manager. But that's all we got."
"We can't have another North Hollywood. Any clear shots?"
"No sir, we think they'll open fire if we start dropping them."
"Fucking shit..." the captain then said, shaking his head. He was about to give out orders until a thud hit the ground behind them. The officers all quickly turned with weapons drawn, surprised by the sudden appearance of Sentinel. The reporters grew more excited as they took photos of the hero's arrival, with the sound of shutters filling the air. "W-what the-!?" the captain managed to get out, putting a hand to his own holster but was defused when he realized who it was a moment later.
"Don't worry captain, I'm here to help. What's the situation?"
"Shit, Sentinel! Glad you showed up." the captain said, glancing over to his subordinates. They all still had their weapons trained on him, given that Sentinel was technically a criminal under American law. But some also held their own petty grievances with the hero, but there were others nearby that waved to Sentinel out of appreciation. "The men inside have highly advanced weaponry. And from what our snipers can see, they have loads of ammunition on them. They have almost a hundred hostages too."
Sentinel looked over to the armored vehicles as the SWAT units continued to exchange fire with the perpetrators, though it was clear that beyond returning fire they were simply outclassed. He knew that he alone could deal with these robbers without losing any more lives, but he also knew that the NYPD strikes of 2018 - over the role of law enforcement being shirked by superheroes - would mean that he would have to compromise and cooperate with local police agencies. "Tell your team commander that I'll be their shield. I'll head in first with a small team behind me." The captain nodded as Sentinel floated over towards the SWAT vans. He could hear shouting from inside as the robbers were alerted to his presence, which meant that time was of the essence.
"All Metro Division officers, the Sentinel is heading your way. Alpha Fire Team you will follow him. I repeat, you will enter the back with Sentinel."
Gently landing next to the officers, he heard more shouting from inside the bank.
"Shit, it's the frickin' boyscout!" one yelled.
"Shit, thought he'd go help the Ten over in Jersey! Davis, go give Carter supporter, lay on him while Lewis preps the big boy."
But his attention was more focused on the SWAT leader of fire team Alpha who greeted Sentinel: "Glad to see you here. Element Blue stick to flanks with shields. Me and Element Red will follow you."
Tyrell nodded. "Good, stay close to me and we'll get the people out quickly."
The captain of Alpha then turned to the other van, giving a thumbs up to the leader of team Bravo who responded in kind. Soon enough, the plan was sprung as Tyrell led the way as the officers followed close behind. Approaching closer, the robber with the miniugun emerged from the building's depths again but had now brought company with him: another robber in heavy armor and with a minigun of his own. "Stay behind me!" Sentinel shouted as they opened fire, hundreds of bullets pelting Sentinel's physique. For any normal man, he would have been shredded instantly. But Sentinel didn't flinch as the bullets simply collided with him harmlessly and fell to the ground.
"Motherfucker! Lewis, is that shit ready!?" shouted one of the minigun goons, looking for his compatriot.
"Almost, it's charging up!" said Lewis as Sentinel continued to walk confidently, more bullets continuing to pepper his body harmlessly. They didn't even register as pinches to him.
"It's ready, it's ready!" Lewis then shouted, making his way in between both minigun shooters. In his hands was a strange rifle platform, bearing a large handguard and railing that emanated electrical coils alongside a chemical cell at its rear. Sentinel could hear the faint hissing of its internal systems grow louder, priming to fire; a weapon like this was experimental, but definitely of greater firepower than any normal ballistics. His eyes widened, and he put his speed to use - knowing that the officers would be in danger regardless of his presence, he used his speed to push the officers back into safety. A fraction of a second had passed, but Sentinel looked back and saw the projectile flying already halfway to where he had been.
The problem was that an officer he had missed was nearby, and the impact would kill him. But just as quickly, if not faster, the man was brought out of harms way by a bolt even faster than he had been. Sentinel looked to his side as the concrete exploded, seeing that the officer had been ushered to safely by another member of the Ten - Lightning. "Hey there big guy!" said the heroine, setting the officer down.
"Glad to see you Lightning!" Sentinel said with palpable relief to her arrival. Only she could have been fast enough to get from coast to coast, which also meant that the Newark problem had been dealt with.
"Glad to see ya too partner! Say, need any help?" Lightning asked, taking a peek from around the vehicle quickly before ducking back into cover.
"All the help I can get. Where are the others though?"
"On the Falcon comin' as fast as they can. Critters over at Newark were pretty tough, and Trench saved our bacon a couple o' times."
"Glad to hear." Sentinel then said, taking a look for himself as he saw the one called Lewis bring out a hostage - the wounded bank guard - and put him up front with a gun to his head. "ALRIGHT! We have demands!"
Sentinel, still smiling, looked back to Lightning: "Think you can get the hostages out of harms way?"
She didn't need to respond as she left in a blink of an eye, sparks of electricity following her trail as she dashed faster than anyone could perceive. And just as quickly, the wounded guard disappeared from the robber's grasp - much to his bafflement - as they quickly realized that they had lost their initial bargaining chip. The two minigun goons quickly dashed back inside to try to secure their other hostages, but Lewis - the one responsible for that strange gun - was confronted by Sentinel as he made the distance. "Captain, tell Bravo team to enter the building after we secure it." he said to the SWAT leader before bursting with speed towards his enemy.
Lewis tried to stumble back but was quickly disarmed with a slap to his hand and was then grabbed by the collar of his clothes. "You like hurting people and killing cops, huh?" Sentinel asked rhetorically before throwing him into the wall nearby. Lewis could only let out a surprised gasp as the wind was knocked out of his body and ultimately was knocked out. Meanwhile, Lightning did what she did best and sped inside at such a pace that it seemed that the hostages inside were disappearing out of nowhere. This left the robbers in confusion and awe as they lost all of their bargaining tools and now had to deal with Sentinel himself.
As he entered the bank, floating just a bit above the ground, they peppered him with bullets out of desperation but quickly realized just how outmatched they were as their bullets fell to the ground after impact. Wordlessly, Sentinel moved to deal with these criminals and deal swift justice; he quickly flew over the the first robber and socked him in the face hard enough to knock out a tooth, leaving him to collapse unconscious. The next two he dashed over and picked up by their necks before knocking their heads together with a gentle-enough thunk, leaving them both dazed and collapsed to their knees. Similar scenes unfolded with the four other robbers, before he dealt with the armored miniguns that had by now reloaded.
Their weapons spun up to prepare another barrage, but Sentinel quickly yanked them out of their hands and crushed them beyond use. Throwing one away, Sentinel used the remnants of the other gun as a club that he batted the minigun wielders into one another and straight into a wall. They both groaned aloud and struggled to get up from the pain, and were ultimately rendered out of commission. There was one left, who was now speaking into a small device as if trying to contact someone - though he couldn't make it out from under the distortion under their mask. Lightning reappeared shortly thereafter as a yellow flash and nodded to Sentinel: "Everyone's out!" she announced to her ally, before turning her attention to the last man standing.
He finished speaking into his device, and seemed poised to fight to the end; despite having failed in getting into the vault and in getting their demands met thanks to the intervention of the heroes, he seemed unusually confident still. He wasn't just a regular goon, as the two heroes would notice a black aura surround his fists.
"I've heard so much about you." the supe spoke with audible disdain, even with the distortions of his mask making his voice indiscernible. He then brought his hands up in a combat pose and chuckled: "Show me what makes you so damn great."
Sentinel exchanged a glance with Lightning before stepping forward to meet the challenge. He quickly got ready himself while Lightning watched the show with confidence that he would be able to deal with the man with ease; the super villain launched himself at Sentinel with a flurry of punches, which he weaved in between with ease. Although he could easily deal with the man, he wanted to make sure he got the message across that his actions would reap consequences. The supe grew more frustrated as he continued to miss his attack, and Sentinel got to see his strength as his fist collided with a nearby pillar.
The support cracked from his first punch, before shattering with a second after attack that came from that black aura around his fists. Sentinel observed with curiosity: 'A double impact ability? Quite the power!' he thought to himself, sparing a glance over to the destroyed marble before glancing back at the man. He decided that he would lure the man in close just to drive home the point and let the man hit him. The villain shouted with rage as he struck Sentinel's chest, causing the air around to shudder from the force. But to his shock, it seemed to barely register with Sentinel as he stood in place with a confident smile.
"Are you done?" he asked, before delivering a quick jab to the man's face. His mask fractured from the blow and sputtered in pain, stumbling back. But he was given no time to recuperate as Sentinel quickly threw out several more punches to his chest and face, enough to put the man down with a final blow to his mask that fully broke it and left him collapsing to the ground. He sputtered a few incoherent words, trying to lift himself again to keep fighting, but was ultimately defeated as he collapsed back unconscious. Sentinel walked over the man's unconscious body and picked at where his communications device was for further investigation. Lightning joined him and observed as he brought the device out; her eyes narrowed as she saw what Sentinel saw as being the culprits behind this operation: the Black Line.
The criminal syndicate's logo was on the device, though their motives for a bank robbery seemed unclear as given their global operations it seemed almost beneath them. "Wonder what they were doing here..." Lightning muttered.
"A question for later... we ought to make sure everyone's okay." Sentinel said, refocusing his attention back to the task at hand. "Thanks for the help again." he said to the speedster before signalling at the front door to the SWAT units. Bravo Team quickly entered the building and began rounding up the robbers that Sentinel had taken care of, with the team leader shouting the all clear. Sentinel then left the bank with a smile on his face with Lightning, greeted by the arrival of both reporters - as the police cordon had now been no longer deemed necessary at the farther perimeter - as well as the Falcon, signaling the arrival of the Ten.
The cameras and reporters went wild when Captain Norton stepped out of the craft, alongside others of the Ten, though a slight frown took hold upon him as he realized that the situation had already been dealt with as Sentinel approached him. While the two respected each other, there was still some small bit of tension as Norton crossed his arms, observing the scene. "Keep this up and you might just put me out of a job." he remarked in dry humor, to which Sentinel couldn't help but chuckle.
"Figured you had your hands full over at Newark."
"We did. But Trench came through in getting them bundled up for the taking." he said, motioning his head towards his teammate. The Trench looked at Sentinel quietly, but with judgemental eyes - as did a few others of the Ten. Even amongst heroes, Sentinel held divisions in opinions; Steel Golem in particular couldn't help himself from posting snarky remarks on his social media platform every time Sentinel did something. But a few others on the team liked him, such as Lightning, the Saturn Stalker and Madame Midnight who waved towards him in a friendly manner.
A brief moment of silence passed as the photographers nearby took their photo ops, which grew more intense as Sentinel and Captain Norton then exchanged nods before the former flew off.
Boyle Heights, Los Angeles, California
But rather than fly back across the country, he decided to have a quick lunch while he was in LA. He was itching for some good tacos as he flew above the city. He remembered a place he had visited a few months back that he was wanting to revisit, a small taqueria place over at Boyle Heights run by an older Mexican man named Ignacio. Landing gently next to the small restaurant, practically a concrete cube, there were a few excited locals who took photos and videos from a distance as well as some kids who looked on in awe at Sentinel stopping by.
A small bell rang as Sentinel entered, taking in the strong smells of the kitchen that gave the entire place an aroma. Ignacio himself, whose grey hairs made him look as though his head was silver, looked up to see Sentinel and gave a toothy smile: "Eh, Sentinela! Como estas compadre?" he asked aloud with a raspy laugh.
"Con mucha mucha hambre mi amigo! Cual el special de hoy?"
"Te va gustar! Dime, alguna ves comiste… birria, no?"
Only a few minutes passed, Sentinel sat down with his delicious Birria, savoring the rich taste and flavors - given that it wasn't likely he was going to be back in a while - but saw his attention stolen by the sudden flurry of activity on the TV. Today seemed to be an eventful day with no breaks, as he saw helicopter footage of chaos unfolding in Philadelphia. A large explosion had racked a part of the city, though it wasn't flames that erupted but rather something else. The headline posted: CHAOS IN PHILADELPHIA - GANG WARFARE RESULTS IN EXPLOSION. He blinked once, food almost in his mouth, before quickly setting down his meal. He'd have to cut his lunch short as he quickly went to the counter to pay for his meal.
South Philadelphia, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania - 15 minutes earlier
Philly held an air of calm that usually remained as such when compared to bigger urban hotspots like New York. Today seemed to be no exception as people went about their business, occasionally looking up the news of the American Ten's doings in Newark or the whole bank situation in Los Angeles. Outside of this, life went on as usual for everyone - particularly for two teens playing hooky from school, walking through the downtown area and heading for their usual hangout spot. For Avery, this was a norm considering she found herself bored to death in school and preferred to simply loiter around and stir up the occasional mischief. Two days ago she and her friend Samantha, who was busy scrolling through her phone, had vandalized a post box with stickers and tape. But today Avery made it clear that she wasn't in the mood for any excitement. But her partner in crime had a different perspective, as she practically shoved the phone into her face.
"Holy shit did you see this?" Sam asked with a grin, "The Ten were in Newark! My feed is blowing up with pics from there. That's like... really close! We could've been there to see it..."
Avery took a look and scoffed: "Yeah we just missed it. Gotta buy tickets for the next outing for their tour." she said sarcastically, which prompted her friend to roll her eyes.
"Uhuh, don't you want to see Captain Norton in action though? You're like his biggest fan."
"Okaaaaay now, I'm a fan but who doesn't want to see a superhero in action? But it's not like I'm waiting for more aliens to attack. Sometimes, its nice to not have to worry about the city blowing up every few weeks y'know?" Avery retorted, before stretching her back and groaning. "Uuuuuuugh... how much further? I feel like we've been walking forever!"
"Stop whining, we're here!" Samantha then said, pointing over across the street. It was an gelato parlor owned by an elderly italian man, where the two often stayed for hours just hanging out or got a quick bite before moving on. Avery got the usual of salted caramel gelato, and took a big spoonful to snack on from her cup. As they both sat outside, Sam kept scrolling through the live feed of random dances, annoying voiced-over clips of existing movies, and other random content. Avery wasn't as in the know on this whole app thing, but found it baffling nonetheless as to some of the things that were posted on there.
"Do you really find all that stuff fun to watch?" Avery asked.
"Well I only watch stuff when I don't scroll past it, y'know?"
"So... you just scroll for however long-"
"For hours!"
Avery and Samantha kept chatting, with the latter teasing the former about her lack of social media usage and not getting it. And they were completely oblivious as to what was about to happen, as were most of the people of the neighborhood; so too was the driver of a Penwright Industries transportation vehicle, it was a standard route procedure for the technological prototype housed in the rear container. Everything had been quiet thus far, having driven from Chicago en route to New York without so much as a peep of trouble. Although what was contained inside was valuable, it was hardly of any use to any would be heisters due to its size as well as its volatility.
Joe Porter couldn't wait for some good R&R after a job like this, as being on the road didn't do well for his legs. At the very least he had benefits for vacation days as mandated by corporate, which is something other truck drivers and transporters in the United States didn't have the luxury of. Penwright, as difficult as he could be, ultimately looked out for those under him... at least, that's what Joe thought as he let out a bored yawn. He had decided to move through Philadelphia for a quick stop to eat some of the famous cheesesteaks here.
Little did he know he was about to drive through the middle of a feud between the Italian and Irish mobs in the neighborhood he was slowly making his way through. But it was when gunfire broke out that he quickly perked up. Bullets flew in the air, and people screamed as two warring factions sought to gun one another down in broad daylight. Bullets pattered the glass of his vehicle, though thankfully it was bulletproof; but he was more concerned still about getting the hell out as he instinctively pushed on the gas and tried to get out of dodge.
People began to run for cover as bullets pattered the buildings and streets, and both Avery and Samantha ducked under their table in shock. Samantha quickly pulled out her phone and started recording, while Avery peered above the table with wide eyes. "Holy shit... holy shit..." she managed to get out in between panicked breaths.
"Holy shit!!" Samantha said, seemingly less concerned as she continued recording the gangs fighting one another. Three had already died, lying on the pavement with blood trickling out of their wounds, while others continued to exchange fire. But this left her completely oblivious to the truck barreling their way.
Avery, acting on instinct, grabbed and tackled Samantha out of the way as the truck barreled just inches past them and straight into the parlor they had just eaten from. "Oh my god ohmygodohmygod!" her friend managed to get out, having tasted death pass by them so closely. But Avery was more concerned for the inside, for both Luigi - the store's owner - and the driver.
"Sam, get out of here!" Avery shouted, unsure of what courage had taken over her body as she darted inside.
"Are you crazy!?"
Avery ignored her protests as she climbed through broken glass, seeing just how wrecked the gelato parlour was now. Luigi seemed to have only a few scratches as she quickly came over to him, and he muttered to her incoherently before pointing to the truck, as if to say 'don't worry about me' as he quickly made his way out of the store. The truck itself had been absolutely ruined by the impact, as its rear axels had been torn off entirely, while its front caved in. The container it was lugging along was also mangled, which gave off an ominous humm.
Avery tugged on the door of the truck's front to try to get it open, as she could see the driver moving inside still. "I-I'm okay! I'll push, you pull!" he shouted. Their combined efforts allowed the metal to practically break loose, though the door lost a hinge as well and now dangled.
"Y-you're okay?" she asked of the driver, looking over his nametag. "Joe?"
"Yeah... I think so... shit, the bosses are gonna be pissed at me-" he said before a violent whirr filled the air.
Both looked towards the container with wide eyes, unsure of what to do as instinctual fear grasped both of them. The hummer grew more intense in power as the metal of the container began to warp, which led Joe to take steps forward to investigate. "Oh crap... I... I think the safety protocols got busted." he muttered, taking a peek inside one of the cracks of the metal.
"Oh god..."
A sudden crackle of brilliant orange energy shot out into the restaurant itself, tearing through brick and steel like it was paper and leaving a gaping wound in the structure itself. But it also had shot into Joe, sending him stumbling back into Avery's arms. But before she could do anything, he started *screaming*. His body began to collapse in on itself, becoming dust and then less than dust until nothing remained but a faint echo of his cries.
Avery could only look in horror as the man in her grasp had just... ceased to exist. "J...Joe?" she managed to sputter out, before another violent eruption ripped through the building as what was inside erupted violently. The energy disintegrated more of the building, but also shot out towards Avery - and all she could do was put her hands in front of her as a futile defense. But unlike its last victim, Avery did not die as her body became consumed by the outburst.
Instead, she collapsed onto the floor and began to spasm uncontrollably. Her entire body locked up, moving without her input, as she felt a growing pressure inside her very being start to coalesce like pressure in a tube. Her jaw clenched to where where gums began to bleed - she wanted to scream, but the air had been stolen from her body. Only sheer panic took root as she the same type of energy began to erupt from her own body.
'I'm going to die.' was the thought running through her head, as the outside began to take notice of this. Two local vigilantes had swooped in to deal with the problem, but the sudden commotion from near the truck had scared away the mobsters. And now the two men were investigating, seeing the sight with shock as a girl continued to tense and curl on the floor uncontrollably.
"Oh fuck!" one of them shouted, a man with a ski mask "We gotta call the cops-"
"The fuck are cops gonna do!?" his partner said with terror, wearing a ski mask of a different color.
Another bolt of energy shot out, tearing through the buildings nearby as Avery struggled to keep even the most basic part of herself intact through all this. "Go..." she tried to get out, but only came as a hoarse whisper. It was then she mustered what strength she had and managed to yell: "GET AWAY!" But this had the adverse side effect of a small, outburst of energy that knocked both men some meters away and tore apart the rest of the building she was in.
That pressure had been relieved, but only just briefly as she felt as though *something* wanted to let loose and explode. But she knew that she would die, as would many others, if she let go. Her entire body was wracked in pain, but it was the adrenaline that kept her going well beyond any normal human could endure. She had to endure as long as she could... and yet there was a growing desire to simply give up. It was unbearable, and a part of her mind rationalized that it was okay to not suffer any longer. Right now she was just keeping it barely at bay, but she too would end up like Joe. At least, that's what she though as she receded back into her mind. Lost as she was through the chaos and turmoil, she didn't even notice the arrival of Sentinel as he landed gently nearby and looked on with sadness.
Another blast of energy erupted, managing to escape Avery's efforts to hold it in as part of it hit the world's greatest hero on the shoulder. While he was unharmed, he couldn't help but notice that it stung - like a mosquito bite. The sensation of pain, even so minor, caught Tyrell by surprise as he looked to where he had been struck before looking back at the girl's suffering. Kneeling down to her he wondered what exactly to do, realizing that she was unlikely to be able to contain such energies for much longer. "I'm going to help you." Sentinel said with a reassuring smile, picking her up and cradling her as she continued to tense up and spasm. By now, her skin had started to glow underneath and he could see her blood vessels under the skin as she strained to barely hold herself together.
Sentinel wasted no time in gaining altitude, blasting off the ground and bringing the girl up into the skies above. But higher he went still, just in case to avoid any civilian aircraft until they were at the furthest reaches of the atmosphere that one could survive in. "I... I can't..." Avery managed to get out, tears streaming in fear.
"It's ok. I'm here with you." Sentinel said, making her know that everything was alright. "You can let go."
And so she did, allowing the dam to finally break as she let out an inhuman howl; her entire body became consumed with orange energy until an explosion of raw energy rocked the upper atmosphere. To many on the ground, they looked above in awe to what would have been a disastrous devastation of their city. But Sentinel, like in the Second Invasion, had once again saved Philadelphia.
His entire body smoked with the residual heat that stayed on his body, and although he had escaped unharmed parts of his suit had been damaged by the outburst of uncontrolled power. He did feel like he had been stung all over, having tanked the detonation at its origin; but what surprised him more was that the girl was not dead. She was still in his arms, but unconscious, as her body also smoldered from the outlying remnants of what had consumed her. He looked at her with a gentle sadness, knowing that her life would never be the same again. He couldn't simply let her back on the ground, lest the government swoop in and consider her a terrorist simply because of her circumstance.
He decided that this situation needed further study, and thus turned to one he knew he could trust the most in this situation.
Midtown Atlanta, Atlanta, Georgia
Wallbreaker ran as fast as he could through the busy streets of the Big Peach, holding what appears to be a briefcase with important documents. He had just broken out of a Trinity Corp. office holding important company secrets and sensitive pharmaceutical data, all of which were of great importance to those that hired him for the job. They stood to make a pretty penny from all this, and he would get a cut that was promised to him all for the small price of bursting through the area with his strength. He had to injure several guards and even kill a few clones, but he managed to get out and away thus far. His getaway driver was parked a few blocks away so as to not rouse suspicion, and to keep them from being identified by any cameras.
But the police were already en route to the general region, which made his urgency greater. As a result, he decided he had no time to be subtle as he ran through another wall leading into a warehouse, causing the workers to run away in a panic. His heavy feet thudded against the ground as he built up momentum to burst through the other end of the warehouse, but he then heard someone call out to him by name.
"Hey Wallbreaker! You miss me?"
"The fuck!?" the behemoth of a supervillain looked about, holding the case tight to his chest. The warehouse was now dead silent, as everyone had fled the scene save for himself. The emptiness unnerved him, but he kept his composure as he looked around trying to find the source. But it wasn't until a figure emerged from the shadow casted from a shelve full of boxes. "C'mon, you don't recognize an old friend anymore?" said Shadeling, leaning onto the crates and crossing his arms.
"Oh, it's you..." muttered Wallbreaker, turning around to him. "The annoying jabbermouth."
"What happened Tyler? I thought I got you locked up good last time."
"Good behavior, cut my sentence a bit. Had a few ex-employers pay off a few guards, and I got out." said the bruiser, backing away slowly.
"You know, if you want to keep being outside of prison you shouldn't steal things? Like, Trinity is shady as hell... I get it. But... hurting guards? Killing clones? That's a bit much, don't you agree?"
"Listen, Shade - if you want to fight, then just fight. I ain't in the mood for your bullshit."
"Hey, can't blame me for wanting to catch up. Oh well, lets do this then!"
The brute threw a punch but found himself hitting wood and splintered apart the container as Shadeling merged back into the shadows. But he quickly reappeared from another set of shadows and delivered a flying kick to the man's face. Wallbreaker sputtered as he let out a wild swing, but hit nothing as Shadeling melted into another pool of shadows nearby. The warehouse was practically perfect ground for his powers, as there were so many objects scattering places for him to enter and exit from with ease. And he did so by keeping his momentum going, jumping around and continuing to deliver flying kicks and punches against his enemy.
The hits piled up as Wallhammer found himself overwhelmed by the sheer amount of strikes, ultimately falling onto his hands and knees as he took another strike to the head. This disoriented him enough to drop the case as he tried to regain his bearings, but ultimately was knocked out of commission by an uppercut as Shadeling rematerialized in front of him, using his own shadow against him. Not a moment later, Atlanta PD officers stormed the warehouse, seeing the commotion that had been caused and pointed their gun as Shadeling. "Freeze!" shouted one officer, while another - a detective - stepped forward.
"STOP RIGHT THERE SHADELING! YOU'RE UNDER ARREST!"
Shadeling turned to them and stared for a moment, before the eyes of his mask squinted happily: "Haha! Nope!"
He quickly melted back into the shadows just as a few bullets were fired, hitting only the walls and crates nearby much to the frustration of the police.
30 minutes later...
Having made his escape proper, Roy Phillips walked on the streets of Atlanta without a care as without the mask - and his gear - he looked like any other stranger on the sidewalk. Especially with the earbuds, he looked like one of the many university students that called this urban sprawl home. Scrolling through his playlist, he saw that a message from "Red Phillips" appeared - an old fling of his - with the message "Hey, u alone? I am feeling zesty
"
He couldn't help but narrow his eyes as he noticed that there was an embed with it, and he muttered to himself: "It's a dick pic."
He knew Roy well enough to be correct in his intuition, but still audibly groaned when he clicked on it and it was exactly what it was. "I don't know what I expected, honestly."
He then tapped his blunt response and sent a response: 'No.'
"Fine, suit yourself gay boy
"
Roy couldn't help but roll his eyes as he put the phone away and continued on his merry walk, pretending to the outside world that he was exactly who he presented himself to be. After a good half hour, he finally made it back to his home in the closest suburb to the city that he could possibly afford with a mortgage. Despite his brilliance, scientific knowledge alone couldn't pay bills that easily; he was relieved to see that no annoying HOA members or any other nuisances were in sight as he walked up the short steps and entered. He was looking forward to relaxing after a nice day's work, but as fate would have it there was more in store for him.
"Jesus Christ, Ty!" Roy almost shouted, jumping in place as he saw Sentinel in his living room. He was almost about to send out a quip, until he noticed that he was carrying someone. A serious look was plastered on the hero's face, as he walked over to him with the girl in his arms.
"Came across her in Philly. Something... something happened to her. A Penwright truck crashed near her and exposed her to something. Almost blew up the city if I hadn't taken her up in the sky."
Roy looked over Tyrell's suit, noticing the damage and blinked twice: "Damn... she did all that to you?"
"Not on purpose. Look, I don't know if... can you figure out what's with her?"
Roy gave his friend a nod, leading Sentinel towards a door that he had installed. It blended into the wall well enough until he put his handprint on it; a scanner authorized entry, opening the way downstairs to what was his personal lair - which was nowhere near as impressive as what the official heroes had access too but it suited the needs of Shadeling. A large workbench encapsulated most of one side of the basement, holding various prototypes and gadgetry that he had been tinkering with recently, while other walls help certain equipments for his more physics based interests: an electron miscroscope, a miniaturized particle accelerator, even a shelf full of beakers and other glassware.
There was also a table, meant usually for just coffee and books, which now served as an impromptu triage desk as Sentinel gently placed Avery atop while Roy quickly got a few things ready for analysis.
Taking a small sample of her blood, Roy smattered it onto the slide with some solutions to preserve it before putting it for anaylsis under the electron microscope. He also quickly took measurements of her vitals with instruments that, while rudimentary compared to a hospital, served well enough as he looked over the numbers. "She seems to be breathing normally, blood pressure is fine..." He then wheeled his chair over to the microscope and analyzed the sample, growing silent. "Fascinating..."
"What is it?" Sentinel asked.
"...honestly? I'm not a hundred percent sure. But her cells aren't acting like any normal cells at all. They seem to be practically bursting out with some kind of energy-"
"That's the problem I meant," Sentinel cut in through Roy's ponderings, "I don't know if she'll detonate at any moment. Can you get her stable?"
"No idea! But I sure can try!" Roy gave Sentinel a thumbs up as he then wheeled his chair over to the workbench and rummaged through some of his gadgets stashed on shelves. "Hmm... maybe-? No, not this one... has to be something else..."
Sentinel in the meantime kept his attention focused on the girl, sitting down next to where she lay and waited nervously for his friend to come up with something. "Aha! Got it!"
Twenty minutes later...
Back in the living room, Avery sat with a heated blanket covering her as she watched the news on TV. She was tiredly sipping on a Capri-Sun, barely able to summon the strength to do much else, while Roy and Tyrell watched from the kitchen. "So, she'll be alright?" Tyrell asked, still anxious about everything that had happened.
"For now, yeah. Though all I did was essentially tire her out with a quark magnetizer. Basically sucking out excess energy until it brought her cellular structure to a fatigued state... like soreness after exercising. Figured that if she's tired, she won't be able to consciously or unconsciously summon forth-"
"So when she isn't, she could blow up again?"
"Eh... not necessarily. Just a theory of mine, but I think kid's stronger than you think. She was just panicking through all that... what did you say she got exposed to again?"
"One of Penwright's prototypes. It was being transported through the city, but its containment broke."
"Damn... so wrong place at the wrong time. Must be a generator of some kind, explains all the power and energy." Roy commented, before giving Sentinel a tap on the shoulder. "Want some coffee? Might as well while you're here with her." Sentinel was about to protest, but he knew that it was rhetorical and Roy had already put the kettle on. He let out a soft chuckle and took a seat on the other end of the kitchen table. The two could overhear the news as well as the volume was loud, though none of it was encouraging: crime remained rampant across the world, and super powered beings ran amok.
"There's so much happening nowadays. Ran into Wallbreaker today, thought he had another ten years but apparently managed to bribe his way out with the help of friends." Roy commented, "Everything's getting more and more difficult to get ahold of."
"The Black Line are responsible, especially after the Invasion; they've been growing unchecked, and we can see what happens because of that. I ran into some of their operatives earlier over in LA. And now gangs are fighting all over to be in their good graces, reap the benefits. And it also doesn't help there's those kaiju and mythical creatures always running around too." Sentinel said, sighing.
"And the government insists that the Ten and Eight can handle all this. The Eight would drown on a water glass if it weren't for Miracle and Barrage. What joke!" Roy said, shaking his head as he poured the coffee into two cups.
"They're doing the same in Europe too," Sentinel said, graciously accepting one of the drinks from his friend. "The Union is pushing against street heroes pretty hard."
"The hell? Really? It's because of folks like Forever Hope that the Kilidian abominations aren't walking around in Paris right now." Roy said, taking a sip of his drink.
"Not just that, but the Black Line's influence is kept in check by them too. The European Guardians are barely effective against them... same with Interpol. Just doesn't make sense why they'd want to legislate away heroes they don't like..."
"Like America... hey, think Uncle Sam is telling them to do so?"
Sentinel was quiet for a moment before sighing, "Maybe. But they can't keep street heroes down forever. It's because of people like Judgement and Midnight Rider that the streets are safer."
"But what can we do? Honestly? The government cracks down on any hero groups that pop up that aren't theirs. Remember the Chicago Eight? I hope those guys are alright after 8-Ball got arrested..."
"Well, something has to be done." Sentinel said, looking over to Avery and the TV. The news of supervillains arising in Washington state and their battle with the Ten now appeared, broadcasting the fight occurring near Seattle. It was total chaos, and still the job seemed endless as more and more problems would arise. Many would slip through the cracks. "Heroes, right now, are overextended as is. Too many gaps and blind spots, leaving too many people to suffer our absence."
Roy took a look over at where Avery sat as well, and nodded: "Not saying we should do nothing. 'specially since you dropped off a walking quantum bomb off at my doorstep."
A moment of silence passed before Sentinel turned to Roy with a soft smile: "If we want a better tomorrow, for every soul in this beautiful world, then we must do everything in our power to secure it. I have an idea Roy, will you help me realize it?"
"You kidding? You inspired me, Ty! It's cause of you I became a superhero. Thanks to you, I put my powers and my mind for good. You know I have your back, and I know that you've got mine." Roy said with a big grin, "What do you have in mind?"
"A group of heroes, joined together with that very ideal in mind: a better tomorrow."
The squeak of a floorboard quickly drew both their attention abck to the living room, seeing Avery stand nearby. She looked immensely tired, but had somehow mustered to will to get up in spite of the comfort of the blanket. "I... I want to help..."
"You shouldn't even be standing right now, really-" Roy said, but he stopped himself when she saw her crying.
"There was... a man... the driver... I tried t-to help him... and instead I'm h-here..." she managed to get out, bringing out an arm from under the blanket to try to wipe her eyes. "I... I c-couldn't save him..."
"It's not your fault girlie." Tyrell said gently, walking up to Avery and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
Avery wiped away more tears, managing to compose herself a bit longer to get her words out: "I... I dunno w-what's with me... b-but... I w-want to help... save people." She looked at her own hands, unsure and unsteady, but gripped them into gentle fists. "I w-want to make sure n-nobody dies like Joe. N-not again." Sentinel remained silent for a moment, before kneeling down in front of Avery and embracing her.
At 4:30 in the morning, the sun had yet to creep over the horizon and the skies remained dark. Yet in the city that never sleeps, that hardly ever mattered. Cars still drove along the streets and the city centered remained buzzing with activity. And for many in the city, they were already starting the early hours of their day as they started work early. Tyrell Williams was no exception as he got off his bed at the top floor of a large townhouse. He took a look at the time, managing to beat the alarm by a few minutes and went to wash himself. Though the mirror itself was old and cracked, it still served its purpose as he looked at his reflection and smiled. It was a day like any other.
Walking down the steps of his home, he made sure to not wake up his parents and brothers by moving cautiously. In the kitchen, he took the time to quickly make a breakfast of eggs while feeding the cats and their old dog. "C'mon Firulais." he muttered gently as the balding, fat mutt made his way to the bowl. He almost crashed into a flower pot but stopped by his owner who gave a gentle smile: "Let me help you boy." Tyrell said quietly as he gently picked the old dog and placed him by the bowl, only leaving his side as he began to chew on the kibble. Scorfing down some quick scrambled eggs, Tyrell then left to head for the restaurant which was practically around the corner.
The place was empty, which meant that he could work without prying eyes to quickly get things done - he practically whizzed through the kitchen as he prepped silverware and plates, carrying them by the hundreds as if they were nothing to him. He also took the time to look through the produce and stocks in the walk-in, making sure that his brother sneak into the kitchen last night for some midnight Tostones. With everyone settled and ready for the new day, he left and locked the door again. It was almost 5 in the morning by now, and the sun began to slowly creep up as he put on some airpods and began to jog through the streets of east Bronx.
"How ya doin' Tyrell?" shouted a garbage collector as he ran past them, to whom Tyrell turned around and waved towards with a big smile on his face. He kept jogging at a steady pace, watching as familiar faces slowly left their homes to get ready for work. He made sure to wave at them all, shouting a conversation with them about having a good day. But already the day was about to get eventful as he reached Hone Avenue; Tyrell took a moment to change the tune on his phone before noticing a commotion nearby. "Give me the keys, I ain' playin' bro!" said a young man with tattoos all over his arms and face. He had a gun pointed at another man, who was also inked up but wore a cleaners uniform. "I ain't giving you shit bro, I need this truck!"
The robber pressed his gun at the man's temple, undeterred by the pleas: "You think I'm playin' witchu bro!? Gimme the fuckin' keys or I smoke your ass!"
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Tyrell said, intervening as he walked up towards the two. Standing a good few meters away, his presence was definitely visible as the robber quickly pointed the gun towards the newcomer. "Oh yeah? Why? You gon' beat me up fool? Get the fuck outta here bro."
Tyrell smiled. "Don't throw away your life like this." he said, taking a few steps forward.
"Yo, stay back man! I'll fucking shoot you bitch!" the robber shouted, but Tyrell could practically hear the man's heart pounding. He was terrified under all that bravado, as though he had never actually killed anyone.
"Come on man, you don't gotta be scared. You can throw that gun off and run."
"I-I ain't scared of you bitch!" the robber shouted, hands trembling. But in what seemed to be the blink of an eye, his weapon was now in Tyrell's hands. With a simple squeeze, he crushed it and rendered it useless. "Go, and think what you're doing with your life."
The robber looked like a stunned deer as his wide eyes moved between Tyrell and the man he had just tried to rob, but not a moment passed before he quickly darted away as fast as his legs could take him. Tyrell sighed but kept a smile, before tossing the destroyed gun into the trash. The cleaner in the meantime let out a sigh of relief, practically bending down to put his hands on his knees for some support after the adrenaline rush of the situation. "Hey, thanks man. I owe you one!" he said, letting out a chuckle as he wiped off sweat from his brow.
"No problem, be safe out there my friend." Tyrell said, taking his leave to continue his jog.
Tyrell made his way back to the family business after looping around a few blocks, but due to the altercation he was a few minutes later than usual. On entering, he could see his mother - a short and old afro-Caribbean woman - getting her coat on. "Ay mi dios, Tyrell! Pense que te a pasao algo mijo! Ya te iba a busca!" said the portly woman as she hugged her enormous son. "Perdoneme mami, queria pasar po' la plaza un momento." he said before kissing his mother's forehead and hugged her back. "Dale que la ayudo!" he then said as he walked further inside, grabbing his white apron and blue bandana from the lockers near the kitchen.
On entering, his brothers, his father, and both his grandparents were already doing prep work for breakfast: cutting ingredients, prepping seasonings, and warming up the equipment for use. Before walking to his station, he made sure to give a hug to both his grandparents - the matriarch and patriarch of the family. They always prepared breakfasts in the morning, both for the homeless who needed it most and the elderly regulars that frequented the establishment as early birds. It was their way of giving back to the community that had kept them open for so many years. Tyrell helped his old man get the shutters open as the restaurant opened proper, and a small line had already formed for their usual customers.
"Un segundo mi panas." said Tyrell with a smile as his mother brought small containers with warm cooked meals inside. "Here you go momma." he said as he handed two containers over to a mother and daughter. "And a lil' something for you sweetie." he said before putting a smaller container holding a fruit mix inside. The mother barely made ends meet with working two jobs, and thus had to rely on the kindness of this place to keep her daughter fed. The mother thanked Tyrell again, managing to keep herself composed with tired eyes as the two walked off.
By 8 in the morning, the regular customers - mostly older folks of Dominican descent - had arrived at the restaurant and were ordering their usual. But when he noticed the time, Tyrell's father pointed it out: "Hey Tyrell," he spoke with a typical Bronx American accent, "It's 8 o'clock boy, ain't ya supposed to get to your deliveries?"
Tyrell quickly checked his watch and nodded. "Ah damn, you right pops. I'll be back soon."
"Take your time mijo, just tell us if you gonna take a while." his mother said as she cut up some plantains. Tyrell gave a pat to his father's back before making his way upstairs. He quickly took off his apron and bandana, setting them on one of the couches in the office upstairs before walking over to a large framed poster of Mariano Rivera. Behind the frame, as he moved the picture off its rest, was a small coded safe. Putting in the code as he had many times before, he grabbed its contents - a small package - and closed the safe before putting the poster back in place. He quickly walked down the steps, but instead of going out the front he went out the back into the alley just fast enough to avoid any prying eyes from catching his presence.
He took a good look around, making sure with his senses that nobody was around to see. His only audience were the few rats scurrying about, and he quickly opened its contents with a smile.
Flying in the skies above, Sentinel felt the air breeze past his face as he flew past the Statue of Liberty and quickly picked up altitude. This was the usual patrol down the eastern seaboard as he - after making distance from the city - broke the sound barrier and flew southbound. Within minutes he was already nearing Florida, though had seen little of anything that needed his attention and thus changed course to fly cross-country. Above the midwest, he flew close by to a passenger plane but kept himself mostly unnoticed. But he did see a little kid staring with awe from his seating, and he gave the kid a wave before flying further out. The vast expanses of farmlands and prairies invited Sentinel to fly faster, knowing that he wouldn't be a disturbance to many to reach the West Coast. But once he actually hit the ocean, then he could push himself further.
Once the blue waves of the Pacific greeted Sentinel's presence, and seeing that there was little need of him at the moment, he went all out several miles out from coast. Breaking the sound barrier again, he launched himself higher up into the atmosphere until the sky darkened and the void of space grew to encompass his vision. Down below, Earth became more curved until he could well enough see its circumference. All the people of Earth - all their lives and dreams - and all of the world's beauty and problems were visible from his vantage point. And despite all the problems they faced, he still could not help but smile. He loved the world, flaws and all.
With his velocity he took a quick glance over Asia, Europe and Africa before having circled his way around in re-entry back to the United States. Fortunately his suit was crafted from similar materials used in space shuttle re-entries, though it didn't stop it from smoking from the heat it gave off to the air around it. But a quick dive in the Atlantic cooled him off back to normal as he flew back to New York.
Tyrell walked back into the restaurant as though nothing had happened, arriving just as he usually does for deliveries at 10:30am. He made sure, however, to buy something extra for his grandparents. "Volvi!" he shouted, grabbing his apron and bandana and put them back on. Both of his elders were sitting by a small side table in the restaurant, somewhat deaf and blind from their old age, but still loved to have breakfast together after a bit of early working. "Abuela, abuelo, adivinen que le traje." he said, placing down a bag of Venezuelan Tequeños, a delicious snack from the republica bolivariana. Tyrell's grandmother, always thankful for her grandson's kindness, kissed his cheek before serving her husband for some coffee.
Now back in the kitchen, Tyrell went back to work in preparing ingredients; rice was his job as he washed the starches off to prep for its use. But he couldn't help but overhear his father talk with Bruce, a regular customer and family friend. "Sounds like the Ten bit off more than they could chew, eh?" said the old Italian-American as he put a small cube of sugar into his coffee. "You always say that, but I know they'll push 'em fish folk back into the ocean." Tyrell's father responded as the two watched the TV. Tyrell took a quick glance at the restaurant's old TV hanging off the corner of the wall to get caught up on the news.
"After an arduous battle that lasted almost a day, the Circle of Druids alongside members of the Olympian League, pushed the Fomorians out of Dublin. However, the emergence of the fishfolk and their monsters seemed to have stirred up the hive." spoke the reporter as the camera panned over to a dock worker, who was being bandaged by paramedics. "This is Jacob Morris, a heroic dock worker at the Newark Port. He was working this morning when suddenly giant crustaceans began to emerge from the ocean and attacked his peers."
"I-I-I w-was just drinkin' my coffee and telling my boss over the radio that e-everything was fine... then s-suddenly those things attacked! Me and Mickey and... I d-don't know how I got out of there, or how I dragged Mickey out after he lost his arm."
"42 year old Mike Kowalski is still alive but in critical condition. He alongside twelve other workers were injured by the monsters awakened by the Fomorians. But if it weren't for the efforts of the American 10, the day would have been lost." The camera changed views to video footage of the Iron Dame - a prominent member of the team - giving a quick comment on their arrival. "Fear not, citizens of Newark, for we have arrived to protect you!" she shouted confidently before running into the port with her teammates past the police cordon.
"The Ten continue to deal with this crustacean threat, ex-governor Chris Christie said 'This wouldn't have happened if I was still in charge.' In other news..."
"I don't know about Iron Dame. She seems like an okay gal. But Norton, now that's a hero." said Tyrell's father with a smile. "Don't you agree son?" he then asked, looking over back to the kitchen, noticing that Tyrell had been listening in. Tyrell gave a nod: "He's got honesty and conviction. Every hero needs that."
"I still think they should get that boy Sentinel into the Ten. He's a much better fit than that Trench guy. More American too." his father then said, which prompted Bruce to laugh. "That Trench guy is American, he's just from Hawaii." he replied, taking a sip of his coffee.
"Well yeah, but what I mean is we all know Sentinel better than we know the Trench!"
Tyrell couldn't help but smile, knowing that his father was proud of the work he was doing - even if he didn't know that Sentinel was living under the same roof as him. "He'd be plenty useful in dealing with those sea beasts." Tyrell looked back at the TV, which had now shifted its reporting to the middle east as American soldiers posed with members of another team.
"...after a series of attacks from rebel groups in the region, members of the Wonderful Eight arrived in Yemen to share their support for the troops." the reporter explained, showing images of their photo-op alongside members of the Army and Marine Corps. It then cut to a short audio snippet from Admiral Miracle: "Our troops are the backbone of our great nation folks. We may protect you from the monsters and villains, but it's our brave men and women on the frontlines that keep tyranny and communism away from American soil and keep our country safe!"
"I really don't like that redneck." Tyrell's dad muttered, shaking his head in visible disapproval.
"Hey quit bustin' his balls Marcus, he did save hundreds during Katrina and the Second Invasion." Bruce replied as he finished up the last of his coffee. But this wasn't enough to assuage the man's opinions as he let out a sigh.
"I know, I know. He's a hero and all... but there's something weird about that motherfu-"
"BREKAING NEWS: We have alarming reports that a group of armed bank robbers have taken almost a hundred hostages in Los Angeles. According to reports from the ground, the perpetrators seem to have highly advanced weaponry. Several officers have already been wounded and one killed." This sudden outbreak made Tyrell's eyes widen as he perked up on hearing this, and that's when Bruce called on him. "Hey Ty! Forgot to tell you son, but my daughter's asked me if I could have you come do some deliveries for her over in Manhattan. Think you can manage?"
Tyrell nodded: "Yeah, of course. Is Hakim home pops?"
"That boy off doin' god knows what, don't you worry son. I'll handle the rice until your lil' brother Avondre wakes up."
Tyrell smiled and gave his old man another pat on the back, then gave Bruce a thankful look before rushing out the back again. Thankfully, he had put his package atop the locker this time around for easy access.
West Hollywood, Los Angeles, California
Shots rang across the city of angels, as nearly a hundred patrol cars had blocked off the area surrounding the Bank of California as an official cordon, with a few more cars and two SWAT vans having parked themselves closer to the bank itself - though two patrol cars were on fire. The police were at a standstill, unable to deal with the situation as the robbers held an enormous amount of firepower that kept them at bay. One of the robbers wore heavy armor and a full face-mask wielded a minigun that he shredded yet more police cars with, setting them ablaze. Though the SWAT vehicles were still in use, they were quickly becoming crowded for cover for both those who could still fight and those that were wounded. Bullets pattered the side of the armored car before coming to a still as the robber ran out of bullets, and the LAPD began to return fire again. This opening allowed for more wounded, and a deceased officer, to be dragged out from the scene.
Meanwhile at the cordon perimeter, behind an official barricade where reporters had flocked to the scene, stoop the captain of the LAPD surrounded by other officers. "How many hostages!?" the captain asked again in disbelief.
"97 in total, they forced a few pedestrians nearby into the bank when they showed up." one of the lieutenants spoke.
The captain pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration and took a deep breath, "Have they made any demands?"
"No sir, radio silence from them... they aren't picking up calls made into the bank either. We know from sniper scopes that there is at least two wounded civilians in the bank: a guard and the manager. But that's all we got."
"We can't have another North Hollywood. Any clear shots?"
"No sir, we think they'll open fire if we start dropping them."
"Fucking shit..." the captain then said, shaking his head. He was about to give out orders until a thud hit the ground behind them. The officers all quickly turned with weapons drawn, surprised by the sudden appearance of Sentinel. The reporters grew more excited as they took photos of the hero's arrival, with the sound of shutters filling the air. "W-what the-!?" the captain managed to get out, putting a hand to his own holster but was defused when he realized who it was a moment later.
"Don't worry captain, I'm here to help. What's the situation?"
"Shit, Sentinel! Glad you showed up." the captain said, glancing over to his subordinates. They all still had their weapons trained on him, given that Sentinel was technically a criminal under American law. But some also held their own petty grievances with the hero, but there were others nearby that waved to Sentinel out of appreciation. "The men inside have highly advanced weaponry. And from what our snipers can see, they have loads of ammunition on them. They have almost a hundred hostages too."
Sentinel looked over to the armored vehicles as the SWAT units continued to exchange fire with the perpetrators, though it was clear that beyond returning fire they were simply outclassed. He knew that he alone could deal with these robbers without losing any more lives, but he also knew that the NYPD strikes of 2018 - over the role of law enforcement being shirked by superheroes - would mean that he would have to compromise and cooperate with local police agencies. "Tell your team commander that I'll be their shield. I'll head in first with a small team behind me." The captain nodded as Sentinel floated over towards the SWAT vans. He could hear shouting from inside as the robbers were alerted to his presence, which meant that time was of the essence.
"All Metro Division officers, the Sentinel is heading your way. Alpha Fire Team you will follow him. I repeat, you will enter the back with Sentinel."
Gently landing next to the officers, he heard more shouting from inside the bank.
"Shit, it's the frickin' boyscout!" one yelled.
"Shit, thought he'd go help the Ten over in Jersey! Davis, go give Carter supporter, lay on him while Lewis preps the big boy."
But his attention was more focused on the SWAT leader of fire team Alpha who greeted Sentinel: "Glad to see you here. Element Blue stick to flanks with shields. Me and Element Red will follow you."
Tyrell nodded. "Good, stay close to me and we'll get the people out quickly."
The captain of Alpha then turned to the other van, giving a thumbs up to the leader of team Bravo who responded in kind. Soon enough, the plan was sprung as Tyrell led the way as the officers followed close behind. Approaching closer, the robber with the miniugun emerged from the building's depths again but had now brought company with him: another robber in heavy armor and with a minigun of his own. "Stay behind me!" Sentinel shouted as they opened fire, hundreds of bullets pelting Sentinel's physique. For any normal man, he would have been shredded instantly. But Sentinel didn't flinch as the bullets simply collided with him harmlessly and fell to the ground.
"Motherfucker! Lewis, is that shit ready!?" shouted one of the minigun goons, looking for his compatriot.
"Almost, it's charging up!" said Lewis as Sentinel continued to walk confidently, more bullets continuing to pepper his body harmlessly. They didn't even register as pinches to him.
"It's ready, it's ready!" Lewis then shouted, making his way in between both minigun shooters. In his hands was a strange rifle platform, bearing a large handguard and railing that emanated electrical coils alongside a chemical cell at its rear. Sentinel could hear the faint hissing of its internal systems grow louder, priming to fire; a weapon like this was experimental, but definitely of greater firepower than any normal ballistics. His eyes widened, and he put his speed to use - knowing that the officers would be in danger regardless of his presence, he used his speed to push the officers back into safety. A fraction of a second had passed, but Sentinel looked back and saw the projectile flying already halfway to where he had been.
The problem was that an officer he had missed was nearby, and the impact would kill him. But just as quickly, if not faster, the man was brought out of harms way by a bolt even faster than he had been. Sentinel looked to his side as the concrete exploded, seeing that the officer had been ushered to safely by another member of the Ten - Lightning. "Hey there big guy!" said the heroine, setting the officer down.
"Glad to see you Lightning!" Sentinel said with palpable relief to her arrival. Only she could have been fast enough to get from coast to coast, which also meant that the Newark problem had been dealt with.
"Glad to see ya too partner! Say, need any help?" Lightning asked, taking a peek from around the vehicle quickly before ducking back into cover.
"All the help I can get. Where are the others though?"
"On the Falcon comin' as fast as they can. Critters over at Newark were pretty tough, and Trench saved our bacon a couple o' times."
"Glad to hear." Sentinel then said, taking a look for himself as he saw the one called Lewis bring out a hostage - the wounded bank guard - and put him up front with a gun to his head. "ALRIGHT! We have demands!"
Sentinel, still smiling, looked back to Lightning: "Think you can get the hostages out of harms way?"
She didn't need to respond as she left in a blink of an eye, sparks of electricity following her trail as she dashed faster than anyone could perceive. And just as quickly, the wounded guard disappeared from the robber's grasp - much to his bafflement - as they quickly realized that they had lost their initial bargaining chip. The two minigun goons quickly dashed back inside to try to secure their other hostages, but Lewis - the one responsible for that strange gun - was confronted by Sentinel as he made the distance. "Captain, tell Bravo team to enter the building after we secure it." he said to the SWAT leader before bursting with speed towards his enemy.
Lewis tried to stumble back but was quickly disarmed with a slap to his hand and was then grabbed by the collar of his clothes. "You like hurting people and killing cops, huh?" Sentinel asked rhetorically before throwing him into the wall nearby. Lewis could only let out a surprised gasp as the wind was knocked out of his body and ultimately was knocked out. Meanwhile, Lightning did what she did best and sped inside at such a pace that it seemed that the hostages inside were disappearing out of nowhere. This left the robbers in confusion and awe as they lost all of their bargaining tools and now had to deal with Sentinel himself.
As he entered the bank, floating just a bit above the ground, they peppered him with bullets out of desperation but quickly realized just how outmatched they were as their bullets fell to the ground after impact. Wordlessly, Sentinel moved to deal with these criminals and deal swift justice; he quickly flew over the the first robber and socked him in the face hard enough to knock out a tooth, leaving him to collapse unconscious. The next two he dashed over and picked up by their necks before knocking their heads together with a gentle-enough thunk, leaving them both dazed and collapsed to their knees. Similar scenes unfolded with the four other robbers, before he dealt with the armored miniguns that had by now reloaded.
Their weapons spun up to prepare another barrage, but Sentinel quickly yanked them out of their hands and crushed them beyond use. Throwing one away, Sentinel used the remnants of the other gun as a club that he batted the minigun wielders into one another and straight into a wall. They both groaned aloud and struggled to get up from the pain, and were ultimately rendered out of commission. There was one left, who was now speaking into a small device as if trying to contact someone - though he couldn't make it out from under the distortion under their mask. Lightning reappeared shortly thereafter as a yellow flash and nodded to Sentinel: "Everyone's out!" she announced to her ally, before turning her attention to the last man standing.
He finished speaking into his device, and seemed poised to fight to the end; despite having failed in getting into the vault and in getting their demands met thanks to the intervention of the heroes, he seemed unusually confident still. He wasn't just a regular goon, as the two heroes would notice a black aura surround his fists.
"I've heard so much about you." the supe spoke with audible disdain, even with the distortions of his mask making his voice indiscernible. He then brought his hands up in a combat pose and chuckled: "Show me what makes you so damn great."
Sentinel exchanged a glance with Lightning before stepping forward to meet the challenge. He quickly got ready himself while Lightning watched the show with confidence that he would be able to deal with the man with ease; the super villain launched himself at Sentinel with a flurry of punches, which he weaved in between with ease. Although he could easily deal with the man, he wanted to make sure he got the message across that his actions would reap consequences. The supe grew more frustrated as he continued to miss his attack, and Sentinel got to see his strength as his fist collided with a nearby pillar.
The support cracked from his first punch, before shattering with a second after attack that came from that black aura around his fists. Sentinel observed with curiosity: 'A double impact ability? Quite the power!' he thought to himself, sparing a glance over to the destroyed marble before glancing back at the man. He decided that he would lure the man in close just to drive home the point and let the man hit him. The villain shouted with rage as he struck Sentinel's chest, causing the air around to shudder from the force. But to his shock, it seemed to barely register with Sentinel as he stood in place with a confident smile.
"Are you done?" he asked, before delivering a quick jab to the man's face. His mask fractured from the blow and sputtered in pain, stumbling back. But he was given no time to recuperate as Sentinel quickly threw out several more punches to his chest and face, enough to put the man down with a final blow to his mask that fully broke it and left him collapsing to the ground. He sputtered a few incoherent words, trying to lift himself again to keep fighting, but was ultimately defeated as he collapsed back unconscious. Sentinel walked over the man's unconscious body and picked at where his communications device was for further investigation. Lightning joined him and observed as he brought the device out; her eyes narrowed as she saw what Sentinel saw as being the culprits behind this operation: the Black Line.
The criminal syndicate's logo was on the device, though their motives for a bank robbery seemed unclear as given their global operations it seemed almost beneath them. "Wonder what they were doing here..." Lightning muttered.
"A question for later... we ought to make sure everyone's okay." Sentinel said, refocusing his attention back to the task at hand. "Thanks for the help again." he said to the speedster before signalling at the front door to the SWAT units. Bravo Team quickly entered the building and began rounding up the robbers that Sentinel had taken care of, with the team leader shouting the all clear. Sentinel then left the bank with a smile on his face with Lightning, greeted by the arrival of both reporters - as the police cordon had now been no longer deemed necessary at the farther perimeter - as well as the Falcon, signaling the arrival of the Ten.
The cameras and reporters went wild when Captain Norton stepped out of the craft, alongside others of the Ten, though a slight frown took hold upon him as he realized that the situation had already been dealt with as Sentinel approached him. While the two respected each other, there was still some small bit of tension as Norton crossed his arms, observing the scene. "Keep this up and you might just put me out of a job." he remarked in dry humor, to which Sentinel couldn't help but chuckle.
"Figured you had your hands full over at Newark."
"We did. But Trench came through in getting them bundled up for the taking." he said, motioning his head towards his teammate. The Trench looked at Sentinel quietly, but with judgemental eyes - as did a few others of the Ten. Even amongst heroes, Sentinel held divisions in opinions; Steel Golem in particular couldn't help himself from posting snarky remarks on his social media platform every time Sentinel did something. But a few others on the team liked him, such as Lightning, the Saturn Stalker and Madame Midnight who waved towards him in a friendly manner.
A brief moment of silence passed as the photographers nearby took their photo ops, which grew more intense as Sentinel and Captain Norton then exchanged nods before the former flew off.
Boyle Heights, Los Angeles, California
But rather than fly back across the country, he decided to have a quick lunch while he was in LA. He was itching for some good tacos as he flew above the city. He remembered a place he had visited a few months back that he was wanting to revisit, a small taqueria place over at Boyle Heights run by an older Mexican man named Ignacio. Landing gently next to the small restaurant, practically a concrete cube, there were a few excited locals who took photos and videos from a distance as well as some kids who looked on in awe at Sentinel stopping by.
A small bell rang as Sentinel entered, taking in the strong smells of the kitchen that gave the entire place an aroma. Ignacio himself, whose grey hairs made him look as though his head was silver, looked up to see Sentinel and gave a toothy smile: "Eh, Sentinela! Como estas compadre?" he asked aloud with a raspy laugh.
"Con mucha mucha hambre mi amigo! Cual el special de hoy?"
"Te va gustar! Dime, alguna ves comiste… birria, no?"
Only a few minutes passed, Sentinel sat down with his delicious Birria, savoring the rich taste and flavors - given that it wasn't likely he was going to be back in a while - but saw his attention stolen by the sudden flurry of activity on the TV. Today seemed to be an eventful day with no breaks, as he saw helicopter footage of chaos unfolding in Philadelphia. A large explosion had racked a part of the city, though it wasn't flames that erupted but rather something else. The headline posted: CHAOS IN PHILADELPHIA - GANG WARFARE RESULTS IN EXPLOSION. He blinked once, food almost in his mouth, before quickly setting down his meal. He'd have to cut his lunch short as he quickly went to the counter to pay for his meal.
South Philadelphia, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania - 15 minutes earlier
Philly held an air of calm that usually remained as such when compared to bigger urban hotspots like New York. Today seemed to be no exception as people went about their business, occasionally looking up the news of the American Ten's doings in Newark or the whole bank situation in Los Angeles. Outside of this, life went on as usual for everyone - particularly for two teens playing hooky from school, walking through the downtown area and heading for their usual hangout spot. For Avery, this was a norm considering she found herself bored to death in school and preferred to simply loiter around and stir up the occasional mischief. Two days ago she and her friend Samantha, who was busy scrolling through her phone, had vandalized a post box with stickers and tape. But today Avery made it clear that she wasn't in the mood for any excitement. But her partner in crime had a different perspective, as she practically shoved the phone into her face.
"Holy shit did you see this?" Sam asked with a grin, "The Ten were in Newark! My feed is blowing up with pics from there. That's like... really close! We could've been there to see it..."
Avery took a look and scoffed: "Yeah we just missed it. Gotta buy tickets for the next outing for their tour." she said sarcastically, which prompted her friend to roll her eyes.
"Uhuh, don't you want to see Captain Norton in action though? You're like his biggest fan."
"Okaaaaay now, I'm a fan but who doesn't want to see a superhero in action? But it's not like I'm waiting for more aliens to attack. Sometimes, its nice to not have to worry about the city blowing up every few weeks y'know?" Avery retorted, before stretching her back and groaning. "Uuuuuuugh... how much further? I feel like we've been walking forever!"
"Stop whining, we're here!" Samantha then said, pointing over across the street. It was an gelato parlor owned by an elderly italian man, where the two often stayed for hours just hanging out or got a quick bite before moving on. Avery got the usual of salted caramel gelato, and took a big spoonful to snack on from her cup. As they both sat outside, Sam kept scrolling through the live feed of random dances, annoying voiced-over clips of existing movies, and other random content. Avery wasn't as in the know on this whole app thing, but found it baffling nonetheless as to some of the things that were posted on there.
"Do you really find all that stuff fun to watch?" Avery asked.
"Well I only watch stuff when I don't scroll past it, y'know?"
"So... you just scroll for however long-"
"For hours!"
Avery and Samantha kept chatting, with the latter teasing the former about her lack of social media usage and not getting it. And they were completely oblivious as to what was about to happen, as were most of the people of the neighborhood; so too was the driver of a Penwright Industries transportation vehicle, it was a standard route procedure for the technological prototype housed in the rear container. Everything had been quiet thus far, having driven from Chicago en route to New York without so much as a peep of trouble. Although what was contained inside was valuable, it was hardly of any use to any would be heisters due to its size as well as its volatility.
Joe Porter couldn't wait for some good R&R after a job like this, as being on the road didn't do well for his legs. At the very least he had benefits for vacation days as mandated by corporate, which is something other truck drivers and transporters in the United States didn't have the luxury of. Penwright, as difficult as he could be, ultimately looked out for those under him... at least, that's what Joe thought as he let out a bored yawn. He had decided to move through Philadelphia for a quick stop to eat some of the famous cheesesteaks here.
Little did he know he was about to drive through the middle of a feud between the Italian and Irish mobs in the neighborhood he was slowly making his way through. But it was when gunfire broke out that he quickly perked up. Bullets flew in the air, and people screamed as two warring factions sought to gun one another down in broad daylight. Bullets pattered the glass of his vehicle, though thankfully it was bulletproof; but he was more concerned still about getting the hell out as he instinctively pushed on the gas and tried to get out of dodge.
People began to run for cover as bullets pattered the buildings and streets, and both Avery and Samantha ducked under their table in shock. Samantha quickly pulled out her phone and started recording, while Avery peered above the table with wide eyes. "Holy shit... holy shit..." she managed to get out in between panicked breaths.
"Holy shit!!" Samantha said, seemingly less concerned as she continued recording the gangs fighting one another. Three had already died, lying on the pavement with blood trickling out of their wounds, while others continued to exchange fire. But this left her completely oblivious to the truck barreling their way.
Avery, acting on instinct, grabbed and tackled Samantha out of the way as the truck barreled just inches past them and straight into the parlor they had just eaten from. "Oh my god ohmygodohmygod!" her friend managed to get out, having tasted death pass by them so closely. But Avery was more concerned for the inside, for both Luigi - the store's owner - and the driver.
"Sam, get out of here!" Avery shouted, unsure of what courage had taken over her body as she darted inside.
"Are you crazy!?"
Avery ignored her protests as she climbed through broken glass, seeing just how wrecked the gelato parlour was now. Luigi seemed to have only a few scratches as she quickly came over to him, and he muttered to her incoherently before pointing to the truck, as if to say 'don't worry about me' as he quickly made his way out of the store. The truck itself had been absolutely ruined by the impact, as its rear axels had been torn off entirely, while its front caved in. The container it was lugging along was also mangled, which gave off an ominous humm.
Avery tugged on the door of the truck's front to try to get it open, as she could see the driver moving inside still. "I-I'm okay! I'll push, you pull!" he shouted. Their combined efforts allowed the metal to practically break loose, though the door lost a hinge as well and now dangled.
"Y-you're okay?" she asked of the driver, looking over his nametag. "Joe?"
"Yeah... I think so... shit, the bosses are gonna be pissed at me-" he said before a violent whirr filled the air.
Both looked towards the container with wide eyes, unsure of what to do as instinctual fear grasped both of them. The hummer grew more intense in power as the metal of the container began to warp, which led Joe to take steps forward to investigate. "Oh crap... I... I think the safety protocols got busted." he muttered, taking a peek inside one of the cracks of the metal.
"Oh god..."
A sudden crackle of brilliant orange energy shot out into the restaurant itself, tearing through brick and steel like it was paper and leaving a gaping wound in the structure itself. But it also had shot into Joe, sending him stumbling back into Avery's arms. But before she could do anything, he started *screaming*. His body began to collapse in on itself, becoming dust and then less than dust until nothing remained but a faint echo of his cries.
Avery could only look in horror as the man in her grasp had just... ceased to exist. "J...Joe?" she managed to sputter out, before another violent eruption ripped through the building as what was inside erupted violently. The energy disintegrated more of the building, but also shot out towards Avery - and all she could do was put her hands in front of her as a futile defense. But unlike its last victim, Avery did not die as her body became consumed by the outburst.
Instead, she collapsed onto the floor and began to spasm uncontrollably. Her entire body locked up, moving without her input, as she felt a growing pressure inside her very being start to coalesce like pressure in a tube. Her jaw clenched to where where gums began to bleed - she wanted to scream, but the air had been stolen from her body. Only sheer panic took root as she the same type of energy began to erupt from her own body.
'I'm going to die.' was the thought running through her head, as the outside began to take notice of this. Two local vigilantes had swooped in to deal with the problem, but the sudden commotion from near the truck had scared away the mobsters. And now the two men were investigating, seeing the sight with shock as a girl continued to tense and curl on the floor uncontrollably.
"Oh fuck!" one of them shouted, a man with a ski mask "We gotta call the cops-"
"The fuck are cops gonna do!?" his partner said with terror, wearing a ski mask of a different color.
Another bolt of energy shot out, tearing through the buildings nearby as Avery struggled to keep even the most basic part of herself intact through all this. "Go..." she tried to get out, but only came as a hoarse whisper. It was then she mustered what strength she had and managed to yell: "GET AWAY!" But this had the adverse side effect of a small, outburst of energy that knocked both men some meters away and tore apart the rest of the building she was in.
That pressure had been relieved, but only just briefly as she felt as though *something* wanted to let loose and explode. But she knew that she would die, as would many others, if she let go. Her entire body was wracked in pain, but it was the adrenaline that kept her going well beyond any normal human could endure. She had to endure as long as she could... and yet there was a growing desire to simply give up. It was unbearable, and a part of her mind rationalized that it was okay to not suffer any longer. Right now she was just keeping it barely at bay, but she too would end up like Joe. At least, that's what she though as she receded back into her mind. Lost as she was through the chaos and turmoil, she didn't even notice the arrival of Sentinel as he landed gently nearby and looked on with sadness.
Another blast of energy erupted, managing to escape Avery's efforts to hold it in as part of it hit the world's greatest hero on the shoulder. While he was unharmed, he couldn't help but notice that it stung - like a mosquito bite. The sensation of pain, even so minor, caught Tyrell by surprise as he looked to where he had been struck before looking back at the girl's suffering. Kneeling down to her he wondered what exactly to do, realizing that she was unlikely to be able to contain such energies for much longer. "I'm going to help you." Sentinel said with a reassuring smile, picking her up and cradling her as she continued to tense up and spasm. By now, her skin had started to glow underneath and he could see her blood vessels under the skin as she strained to barely hold herself together.
Sentinel wasted no time in gaining altitude, blasting off the ground and bringing the girl up into the skies above. But higher he went still, just in case to avoid any civilian aircraft until they were at the furthest reaches of the atmosphere that one could survive in. "I... I can't..." Avery managed to get out, tears streaming in fear.
"It's ok. I'm here with you." Sentinel said, making her know that everything was alright. "You can let go."
And so she did, allowing the dam to finally break as she let out an inhuman howl; her entire body became consumed with orange energy until an explosion of raw energy rocked the upper atmosphere. To many on the ground, they looked above in awe to what would have been a disastrous devastation of their city. But Sentinel, like in the Second Invasion, had once again saved Philadelphia.
His entire body smoked with the residual heat that stayed on his body, and although he had escaped unharmed parts of his suit had been damaged by the outburst of uncontrolled power. He did feel like he had been stung all over, having tanked the detonation at its origin; but what surprised him more was that the girl was not dead. She was still in his arms, but unconscious, as her body also smoldered from the outlying remnants of what had consumed her. He looked at her with a gentle sadness, knowing that her life would never be the same again. He couldn't simply let her back on the ground, lest the government swoop in and consider her a terrorist simply because of her circumstance.
He decided that this situation needed further study, and thus turned to one he knew he could trust the most in this situation.
Midtown Atlanta, Atlanta, Georgia
Wallbreaker ran as fast as he could through the busy streets of the Big Peach, holding what appears to be a briefcase with important documents. He had just broken out of a Trinity Corp. office holding important company secrets and sensitive pharmaceutical data, all of which were of great importance to those that hired him for the job. They stood to make a pretty penny from all this, and he would get a cut that was promised to him all for the small price of bursting through the area with his strength. He had to injure several guards and even kill a few clones, but he managed to get out and away thus far. His getaway driver was parked a few blocks away so as to not rouse suspicion, and to keep them from being identified by any cameras.
But the police were already en route to the general region, which made his urgency greater. As a result, he decided he had no time to be subtle as he ran through another wall leading into a warehouse, causing the workers to run away in a panic. His heavy feet thudded against the ground as he built up momentum to burst through the other end of the warehouse, but he then heard someone call out to him by name.
"Hey Wallbreaker! You miss me?"
"The fuck!?" the behemoth of a supervillain looked about, holding the case tight to his chest. The warehouse was now dead silent, as everyone had fled the scene save for himself. The emptiness unnerved him, but he kept his composure as he looked around trying to find the source. But it wasn't until a figure emerged from the shadow casted from a shelve full of boxes. "C'mon, you don't recognize an old friend anymore?" said Shadeling, leaning onto the crates and crossing his arms.
"Oh, it's you..." muttered Wallbreaker, turning around to him. "The annoying jabbermouth."
"What happened Tyler? I thought I got you locked up good last time."
"Good behavior, cut my sentence a bit. Had a few ex-employers pay off a few guards, and I got out." said the bruiser, backing away slowly.
"You know, if you want to keep being outside of prison you shouldn't steal things? Like, Trinity is shady as hell... I get it. But... hurting guards? Killing clones? That's a bit much, don't you agree?"
"Listen, Shade - if you want to fight, then just fight. I ain't in the mood for your bullshit."
"Hey, can't blame me for wanting to catch up. Oh well, lets do this then!"
The brute threw a punch but found himself hitting wood and splintered apart the container as Shadeling merged back into the shadows. But he quickly reappeared from another set of shadows and delivered a flying kick to the man's face. Wallbreaker sputtered as he let out a wild swing, but hit nothing as Shadeling melted into another pool of shadows nearby. The warehouse was practically perfect ground for his powers, as there were so many objects scattering places for him to enter and exit from with ease. And he did so by keeping his momentum going, jumping around and continuing to deliver flying kicks and punches against his enemy.
The hits piled up as Wallhammer found himself overwhelmed by the sheer amount of strikes, ultimately falling onto his hands and knees as he took another strike to the head. This disoriented him enough to drop the case as he tried to regain his bearings, but ultimately was knocked out of commission by an uppercut as Shadeling rematerialized in front of him, using his own shadow against him. Not a moment later, Atlanta PD officers stormed the warehouse, seeing the commotion that had been caused and pointed their gun as Shadeling. "Freeze!" shouted one officer, while another - a detective - stepped forward.
"STOP RIGHT THERE SHADELING! YOU'RE UNDER ARREST!"
Shadeling turned to them and stared for a moment, before the eyes of his mask squinted happily: "Haha! Nope!"
He quickly melted back into the shadows just as a few bullets were fired, hitting only the walls and crates nearby much to the frustration of the police.
30 minutes later...
Having made his escape proper, Roy Phillips walked on the streets of Atlanta without a care as without the mask - and his gear - he looked like any other stranger on the sidewalk. Especially with the earbuds, he looked like one of the many university students that called this urban sprawl home. Scrolling through his playlist, he saw that a message from "Red Phillips" appeared - an old fling of his - with the message "Hey, u alone? I am feeling zesty
"He couldn't help but narrow his eyes as he noticed that there was an embed with it, and he muttered to himself: "It's a dick pic."
He knew Roy well enough to be correct in his intuition, but still audibly groaned when he clicked on it and it was exactly what it was. "I don't know what I expected, honestly."
He then tapped his blunt response and sent a response: 'No.'
"Fine, suit yourself gay boy
"Roy couldn't help but roll his eyes as he put the phone away and continued on his merry walk, pretending to the outside world that he was exactly who he presented himself to be. After a good half hour, he finally made it back to his home in the closest suburb to the city that he could possibly afford with a mortgage. Despite his brilliance, scientific knowledge alone couldn't pay bills that easily; he was relieved to see that no annoying HOA members or any other nuisances were in sight as he walked up the short steps and entered. He was looking forward to relaxing after a nice day's work, but as fate would have it there was more in store for him.
"Jesus Christ, Ty!" Roy almost shouted, jumping in place as he saw Sentinel in his living room. He was almost about to send out a quip, until he noticed that he was carrying someone. A serious look was plastered on the hero's face, as he walked over to him with the girl in his arms.
"Came across her in Philly. Something... something happened to her. A Penwright truck crashed near her and exposed her to something. Almost blew up the city if I hadn't taken her up in the sky."
Roy looked over Tyrell's suit, noticing the damage and blinked twice: "Damn... she did all that to you?"
"Not on purpose. Look, I don't know if... can you figure out what's with her?"
Roy gave his friend a nod, leading Sentinel towards a door that he had installed. It blended into the wall well enough until he put his handprint on it; a scanner authorized entry, opening the way downstairs to what was his personal lair - which was nowhere near as impressive as what the official heroes had access too but it suited the needs of Shadeling. A large workbench encapsulated most of one side of the basement, holding various prototypes and gadgetry that he had been tinkering with recently, while other walls help certain equipments for his more physics based interests: an electron miscroscope, a miniaturized particle accelerator, even a shelf full of beakers and other glassware.
There was also a table, meant usually for just coffee and books, which now served as an impromptu triage desk as Sentinel gently placed Avery atop while Roy quickly got a few things ready for analysis.
Taking a small sample of her blood, Roy smattered it onto the slide with some solutions to preserve it before putting it for anaylsis under the electron microscope. He also quickly took measurements of her vitals with instruments that, while rudimentary compared to a hospital, served well enough as he looked over the numbers. "She seems to be breathing normally, blood pressure is fine..." He then wheeled his chair over to the microscope and analyzed the sample, growing silent. "Fascinating..."
"What is it?" Sentinel asked.
"...honestly? I'm not a hundred percent sure. But her cells aren't acting like any normal cells at all. They seem to be practically bursting out with some kind of energy-"
"That's the problem I meant," Sentinel cut in through Roy's ponderings, "I don't know if she'll detonate at any moment. Can you get her stable?"
"No idea! But I sure can try!" Roy gave Sentinel a thumbs up as he then wheeled his chair over to the workbench and rummaged through some of his gadgets stashed on shelves. "Hmm... maybe-? No, not this one... has to be something else..."
Sentinel in the meantime kept his attention focused on the girl, sitting down next to where she lay and waited nervously for his friend to come up with something. "Aha! Got it!"
Twenty minutes later...
Back in the living room, Avery sat with a heated blanket covering her as she watched the news on TV. She was tiredly sipping on a Capri-Sun, barely able to summon the strength to do much else, while Roy and Tyrell watched from the kitchen. "So, she'll be alright?" Tyrell asked, still anxious about everything that had happened.
"For now, yeah. Though all I did was essentially tire her out with a quark magnetizer. Basically sucking out excess energy until it brought her cellular structure to a fatigued state... like soreness after exercising. Figured that if she's tired, she won't be able to consciously or unconsciously summon forth-"
"So when she isn't, she could blow up again?"
"Eh... not necessarily. Just a theory of mine, but I think kid's stronger than you think. She was just panicking through all that... what did you say she got exposed to again?"
"One of Penwright's prototypes. It was being transported through the city, but its containment broke."
"Damn... so wrong place at the wrong time. Must be a generator of some kind, explains all the power and energy." Roy commented, before giving Sentinel a tap on the shoulder. "Want some coffee? Might as well while you're here with her." Sentinel was about to protest, but he knew that it was rhetorical and Roy had already put the kettle on. He let out a soft chuckle and took a seat on the other end of the kitchen table. The two could overhear the news as well as the volume was loud, though none of it was encouraging: crime remained rampant across the world, and super powered beings ran amok.
"There's so much happening nowadays. Ran into Wallbreaker today, thought he had another ten years but apparently managed to bribe his way out with the help of friends." Roy commented, "Everything's getting more and more difficult to get ahold of."
"The Black Line are responsible, especially after the Invasion; they've been growing unchecked, and we can see what happens because of that. I ran into some of their operatives earlier over in LA. And now gangs are fighting all over to be in their good graces, reap the benefits. And it also doesn't help there's those kaiju and mythical creatures always running around too." Sentinel said, sighing.
"And the government insists that the Ten and Eight can handle all this. The Eight would drown on a water glass if it weren't for Miracle and Barrage. What joke!" Roy said, shaking his head as he poured the coffee into two cups.
"They're doing the same in Europe too," Sentinel said, graciously accepting one of the drinks from his friend. "The Union is pushing against street heroes pretty hard."
"The hell? Really? It's because of folks like Forever Hope that the Kilidian abominations aren't walking around in Paris right now." Roy said, taking a sip of his drink.
"Not just that, but the Black Line's influence is kept in check by them too. The European Guardians are barely effective against them... same with Interpol. Just doesn't make sense why they'd want to legislate away heroes they don't like..."
"Like America... hey, think Uncle Sam is telling them to do so?"
Sentinel was quiet for a moment before sighing, "Maybe. But they can't keep street heroes down forever. It's because of people like Judgement and Midnight Rider that the streets are safer."
"But what can we do? Honestly? The government cracks down on any hero groups that pop up that aren't theirs. Remember the Chicago Eight? I hope those guys are alright after 8-Ball got arrested..."
"Well, something has to be done." Sentinel said, looking over to Avery and the TV. The news of supervillains arising in Washington state and their battle with the Ten now appeared, broadcasting the fight occurring near Seattle. It was total chaos, and still the job seemed endless as more and more problems would arise. Many would slip through the cracks. "Heroes, right now, are overextended as is. Too many gaps and blind spots, leaving too many people to suffer our absence."
Roy took a look over at where Avery sat as well, and nodded: "Not saying we should do nothing. 'specially since you dropped off a walking quantum bomb off at my doorstep."
A moment of silence passed before Sentinel turned to Roy with a soft smile: "If we want a better tomorrow, for every soul in this beautiful world, then we must do everything in our power to secure it. I have an idea Roy, will you help me realize it?"
"You kidding? You inspired me, Ty! It's cause of you I became a superhero. Thanks to you, I put my powers and my mind for good. You know I have your back, and I know that you've got mine." Roy said with a big grin, "What do you have in mind?"
"A group of heroes, joined together with that very ideal in mind: a better tomorrow."
The squeak of a floorboard quickly drew both their attention abck to the living room, seeing Avery stand nearby. She looked immensely tired, but had somehow mustered to will to get up in spite of the comfort of the blanket. "I... I want to help..."
"You shouldn't even be standing right now, really-" Roy said, but he stopped himself when she saw her crying.
"There was... a man... the driver... I tried t-to help him... and instead I'm h-here..." she managed to get out, bringing out an arm from under the blanket to try to wipe her eyes. "I... I c-couldn't save him..."
"It's not your fault girlie." Tyrell said gently, walking up to Avery and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
Avery wiped away more tears, managing to compose herself a bit longer to get her words out: "I... I dunno w-what's with me... b-but... I w-want to help... save people." She looked at her own hands, unsure and unsteady, but gripped them into gentle fists. "I w-want to make sure n-nobody dies like Joe. N-not again." Sentinel remained silent for a moment, before kneeling down in front of Avery and embracing her.
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Lady Moldoma
Professional Sweetypie
Greater Atlanta Metroplex, Georgia
(OST - "Monsters Have Dreams Too")“Purposeless… Am I purposeless? What was I born into?”
These thoughts were always an undeniable plague in the mind of Mamimi Lordgenome. Rejected by her family, considered missing for 4 years, with only the occasional sighting from an unrelated civilian.
A homeless life is not a particular fulfilling one, especially for someone who lacked social skills, and was destined out of their own lack of mental wellness to be seemingly eternally lonely.
Enough people would leave by food-scraps at campgrounds, and enough wild animals and small-scale kaiju lived within the Atlanta metroplex to keep her fed, though she hadn’t really talked that much to anyone in months. The last person, in fact, that she could remember talking to (other than herself, and the occasional harsh language exclaimed to nobody in particular if she were angry) was an expressionist hiker, and hallucinatory drug enthusiast named Samuel.
Samuel, being high on mind altering chemicals at the time, confused Mamimi’s demonic appearance for a hallucination, and assumed she was merely a figment of his imagination. Though a sense of confusion had dawned on him later when he found the amount of the food he had packed for the trip was concerningly reduced by about 70% after he had offered what he referred to as a “Dream Demon” said food in said experience last night.
Mamimi never forgot things. She would remember Samuel’s face if he ever went hiking again. Inherently, this also meant she’d probably never speak to him again, too afraid of being pressed about taking his food. Her trauma had led her to feel immense guilt when stealing food, it hurt her to go and do that sort of thing, even though, in a way, he had offered it to her freely. The misconception was enough to make it feel like a lie.
Hunting had not been good for 4 weeks, though. Mamimi was starting to get hungry. By not good, it meant she had eaten a bushel of Nightshade berries and had only been able to survive due to her body adapting in the next few days. For a few hours after digestion, all she probably should’ve been able to do was lie down and die slowly as her body slowly died from the inside and expelled whatever it thought it had to. Her combination of a strong bodily constitution, and sheer desire to persevere, meant that she instead spent the next few hours wandering around in a state of total confusion, half asleep, before finally passing out under a pine tree.
When she stopped sleeping, she realized she was no longer in any place she recognized. But as usual, as long as it wasn’t at her old house, she simply continued looking for more things to eat.
Even in this state, she was never truly awake, just hungry. Travelling to find food, her body moving on its own. The combination of toxic shock, exhaustion, and hunger was starting to confuse her senses more and more, yet her determination to survive by any means remained steadfast, unaffected at all by the poison. She herself wasn’t acting so much as her will itself was.
She found herself approaching civilization, Atlanta Georgia, kinda hard to miss it. She practically dragged herself into the city in her search for food. Even though she hated being around other people, since it made her feel guilty about her existence, and society is something she deeply wished she could change but had no method to do so.
Atlanta, Georgia (City Proper)
Coming across a corner store, she was still in a state of disarray. Her mind wasn’t functioning. Having no money on herself, she probably intended on stealing whatever she needed.
Her tired body moved into the corner store and slumped past the isles towards the hot-cooked foods counter. While only a few moments later, the door was then opened by a fairly large man wearing a blue scarf, standing at at least 3 meters in height with a barrel-shaped chest and a lanky, yet obviously endomorphic or “strongman” type build, in spite of his long limbs. He wore a white suit and an esoteric white mask, with a large white cowboy-hat like piece of headwear, and placed his hand on his chest, Gently pressing a generative audio device on his lapel.
“Please hand me all of the money in the register. I will not hesitate to use force if needed. Your job is not worth your life.” the robotic voice stated
The cashier’s face paled, though they immediately proceeded to do as the note requested.
“As for all civillians in the building at this time… Seemingly just you…” The generated voice stated again, as the man looked to mamimi. “I’ll be asking you hand over all your valuables. Understand that this is not a request. It is a demand. I will not hesitate to use force if needed.”
“Are you... hungry?” Mamimi grumbled something low and confused as she openly muched on a taquito that had been left out on the rolling cookers. She wasn’t nearly in the right state of consciousness to understand. She held out a different taquito as an offering.
The cashier hesitantly moved to press a panic button believing the man’s focus had been shifted, only to find a revolver pointed at her forehead by the man. “Please, don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.” The generative voice replied.
“You’re clearly inebriated, so I don’t expect much to make sense to you. Let me state it clearly. Give me everything you have in your pockets, or you get shot.” The generative voice told Mamimi, as the man pointed to her with his other hand.
“So… You’re… Not hungry?” Mamimi asked, eating the taquito she had offered the man.
“No.” The generative voice replied.
“Oh… Alright… Well I don’t have anything…” Mamimi began, showing more sense of consciousness and coherence as time continued. “I hope what I’m about to give you can make up for it…” Mamimi said.
(OST - "Beatdown")
She proceeded to pop her jaw, as her body leaned down, instantly taking off at neck-breaking speed, kicking off the ground many times in a second, albeit only just edging out above what a peak human could likely achieve, and catapulting herself over a series of isles towards the man.
Mamimi found herself shot in mid-air at least twice, with another bullet missing entirely due to her erratic movement. one bullet hitting her left shoulder and one hitting her left thigh, however she managed to still land her mount onto the masked man and knock him over, struggling to hold him down as he was significantly taller than her.
He managed to break his arm lose of her grasp, firing off 3 more shots, into her neck and the side of her chest.
Mamimi’s eyes went wide, strained and bloodshot, centering in on the man. “FUCK!” She shouted. “That hurts, you piece of shit!” Somehow having survived 5 gunshot wounds, one to the neck, mamimi spit up blood and raised her arm, slamming her palm down into the man’s head and sending it careening against the floor, cracking his mask down the middle.
She proceeded to hold her hand to his mask and continued violently bashing him up and down, rocking his neck back and fourth, causing the man to drop his revolver and attempt to restrain her arm, only for her to bite into the man’s shoulder, biting down hard enough to crack his scapula. Causing the man to scream from under his mask, which was only silenced again by her placing her hands on the man’s neck and pushing on his adam’s apple, causing him to choke.
She did this for several more seconds before letting go and pushing off of the man, leaving him grasping at his throat, stepping to the side and smashing his revolver underfoot. She then proceeded to take a rack of merchandise and knock it over on top of the man, pinning him in his weakened, frantic state.
Blood trickled down the side of her face and had already begun to stain her clothes especially around the bullet wounds. Mamimi casually walked over to one of the food and snack isles and took out some sort of sports drink from one of the coolers, downing it before going back to prop herself up against the wall and slouch on the floor. To be completely honest, she’d been through worse than being shot a couple of times, at least, she felt that she had.
She breathed in and out slowly, while the dazed and frankly incapacitated attacker unable to get up out from under the rack that had been tipped over on him, it didn’t help that he was bleeding profusely from his shoulder blade and likely had more than a few fractured bones. In spite of his large stature, 3 meters being around 9 feet tall, his body wasn’t nearly strong enough to survive the kind of onslaught that Mamimi just gifted onto him and get right back up. He was still alive, but not by much. This was her operating standard, avoiding casualties but still beating someone until they can’t hurt you anymore.
She was exhausted, she needed to gather herself if she planned to stand up and leave, honestly, it'd probably be better if she just stayed here and waiting for whatever came next. Maybe if she was in prison she could at least have a place to sleep and get a decent meal for once...
She wondered what possessed her to do this. Maybe the injustice of seeing someone strong pick on someone weak really got to her, then again, she was only just now starting to wake up, so maybe something deeper was influencing her emotions a certain way. Probably some of column A and some of B.
EdwardDewey98
Professional Argentine
"You think she'll be okay in my flat?" asked Shadeling as he emerged from the shadow casted by the counter of the convenience store. Sentinel walked past, still wearing his damaged suit, nodded: "Once you're done with your testing, I'll fly her back home." he said, looking around the trashed shop. The clerk was outside, already calling the police on their phone, but was reassured by the presence of two heroes. "What happened here?" asked Shadeling as he looked about, before turning to see a brutal sight. "Holy shit!" Roy shouted, rushing over to the unconscious, barely breathing robber. Sentinel looked over and observed, frowning slightly in response.
"That's the robber, but where's the person that stopped them?"
"Jesus, is this a vigilante's work? Only those assholes are these messy." Shadeling muttered, checking over the damage to the robber's body. Bones were broken, with some even protruding up through the skin but not enough to break through. "This guy won't be able to walk again... he'll probably have to drink from a straw for the rest of his life."
"Not everyone is as clean as Aguila Gris or Judgement. Most are like your ex-boyfriend." Sentinel commented, with a slight hint of disdain for the Red Ghast, before effortlessly lifting up the shelf that was pinning the man down onto the floor.
"Yeah..." Shadeling said before sighing, a complicated reminder echoing in his head towards that relationship. But it was then that Sentinel noticed another body nearby - that of the tired and seemingly unconscious Mamimi. "I found our vigilante." Sentinel said, floating over her. Shadeling quickly manifested next to her by using the shadow coming off her and looked her over.
"Huh... she's a superhuman, no doubt about it. Got shot several times and is bleeding though... she needs a hospital."
"She does... but... she's awake." he muttered, eyeing over her slow moving eyes. "Are you conscious?" he asked aloud, before looking back to the crippled robber. "What possessed you to do such a thing?"
"Not exactly the best time to give her crap over her methods, you think?"
Sentinel didn't respond, but again took notice of the rather sorry state the poor woman was in; "What happened to you ma'am?" he asked, landing on the ground next to Mamimi and offered his hand to help her up.
Interacting: Mamimi Lordgenome
Lady Moldoma
"That's the robber, but where's the person that stopped them?"
"Jesus, is this a vigilante's work? Only those assholes are these messy." Shadeling muttered, checking over the damage to the robber's body. Bones were broken, with some even protruding up through the skin but not enough to break through. "This guy won't be able to walk again... he'll probably have to drink from a straw for the rest of his life."
"Not everyone is as clean as Aguila Gris or Judgement. Most are like your ex-boyfriend." Sentinel commented, with a slight hint of disdain for the Red Ghast, before effortlessly lifting up the shelf that was pinning the man down onto the floor.
"Yeah..." Shadeling said before sighing, a complicated reminder echoing in his head towards that relationship. But it was then that Sentinel noticed another body nearby - that of the tired and seemingly unconscious Mamimi. "I found our vigilante." Sentinel said, floating over her. Shadeling quickly manifested next to her by using the shadow coming off her and looked her over.
"Huh... she's a superhuman, no doubt about it. Got shot several times and is bleeding though... she needs a hospital."
"She does... but... she's awake." he muttered, eyeing over her slow moving eyes. "Are you conscious?" he asked aloud, before looking back to the crippled robber. "What possessed you to do such a thing?"
"Not exactly the best time to give her crap over her methods, you think?"
Sentinel didn't respond, but again took notice of the rather sorry state the poor woman was in; "What happened to you ma'am?" he asked, landing on the ground next to Mamimi and offered his hand to help her up.
Interacting: Mamimi Lordgenome
Lady Moldoma
Lady Moldoma
Professional Sweetypie
[MAMIMI PROLOGUE]
"I was hungry..." She stood up, gripping onto a nearby shelf to steady herself rather than taking Sentinel's hand, she didn't really trust him yet. Though his face looked particularly familiar, She couldn't really make out where she had seen his face before. Maybe on the TV once before she was banned from watching the TV since her parents thought it'd help to ""expel the demon inside of her.""
"That guy in the mask over there tried to hold up the store. And that might've gotten in the way of me getting food." Her tone was monotonous, and her face was a hollow expression, one of someone who was particularly exhausted.
"That. And I don't like bullies. When I see a big person emboldened enough to pick on someone just because of a size or power difference, I can't help myself." She says.
"He's not dead is he? I have a sense for how much people can take before dying. He was still breathing whenever I pinned him." She asks. Her voice was devoid of emotion other than a general sense of annoyance at having to talk to someone.
As she spoke, she nonchalantly picked at the wound in her neck, before jamming her fingers directly into the gunshot hole and straining for a moment to pull out the bullet. The bullet made a wet clicking noise as she removed it. "That's bothersome..." she mumbled to herself. She flicked the bullet off onto the floor, a gentle clacking noise emanating as it hit the ground.
Rotating her neck around and allowing the joints to pop, with a slight gush of blood from the wound as she did so. "Hunting has not been good for me for the past 4 weeks. My body wandered into here on its own and I didn't realize where I was or what the situation was until a few minutes ago when I found myself eating off of the hot-food counter." She explains. "I don't exactly have any money, so if you wanna go after me for theft, I won't stop you. It's not that I'm too tired to fight, but prison means a bed and a meal, so it can't be much worse than this."
"Believe me... I've lived through worse than that..."
Interacting: Sentinel/Shadeling
EdwardDewey98
EdwardDewey98
Professional Argentine
[MAMIMI PROLOGUE]
Sentinel and Shadeling looked at each other first, exchanging knowing glances, and then back to Mamimi. "I don't arrest shoplifters." said Sentinel. "I know how hard things are for people these days... still, it's not an excuse. We will pay for you." he said before looking at Shadeling. "Uh... I don't have pockets."
"Oh come on, I barely make any money dude!" Shadeling whispered back, partly out of embarassment.
"I know, I know. I'll send you some... uh, you got Paypal?"
"No I use Venmo mostly."
"What's Venmo?"
"I keep forgetting you're almost a boomer." Shadeling joked, which brought out a scoff from Sentinel.
"Like a baby boomer? I'm not that old..."
"Ahem. The starving vigilante?"
Sentinel cleared his throat before looking back to Mamimi: "Right, look, you tried to do the right thing. But what you did to that robber... that's not what being a hero is about." He glanced back towards the unconscious man, who was breathing with difficulty. "And besides, how can he face justice in the state he is in?"
Interacting: Mamimi Lordgenome
Lady Moldoma
Lady Moldoma
Professional Sweetypie
[MAMIMI PROLOGUE]
Mamimi closed her eyes. “This was never about heroism…” she said. “I did this because I was nearby and it benefited me…” it wasn’t clear what exactly Mamimi was feeling. Superficially she had convinced herself as much that this wasn’t an attempted act of heroism. To be honest, it probably wasn’t, but it wasn’t devoid of morality or a desire for fairness either.
The theatrics of heroics were something that Mamimi was not fond of. Cartoons, back when she was allowed to watch them, especially about the Wonderful 8, who had allowed their likenesses to be used in one such cartoon, or other fictional superheroes, had shaped her view of the world. As someone who felt she related more with the villains (an unusual amount of which seemed to be mutants, monsters, or aliens, and a significant fraction of which seemed to have goals related to taking revenge on society for being exiled, or as extremist environmentalists, ala poison Ivy/magneto) Mamimi always felt that the wonderful 8 really just seemed like a bunch of bullies whenever she thought about the fridge logic of the series.
When she asked her parents why she felt this way — the monster always lost whenever it seemed to be trying just as hard to reach its goal as the heroes; her parents were no help. Her father lampshaded her questions, and her mother scolded her for having demonic thoughts and not understanding morality properly (more accurately, simply not agreeing with the way her mother would’ve seen it. Which was probably a subconscious part of the reason her mother took her small CRT television away.
But the nail in the coffin had nothing to do with cartoons. It related to the fact that nobody came for her when she was suffering. No superheroes, no real heroes, nobody who could’ve helped. She suffered in silence under her parents abuse. It took her 16 years to run away, and even 4 years later, she felt no happier. The message to her was clear, whenever the time comes, DON’T go expecting someone to save you. Whether other people thought she was right or not didn’t matter to her because there was no evidence otherwise.
“Face Justice? What’s your definition of Justice? He picked on the weak and he got in my way, so I bashed his face in. If he lacks the resolve to keep living and improve himself, that’s not my fault. The only reason I didn’t kill him is because he didn’t deserve it.” She was telling a fraction of the truth. It was mainly that it would make her feel bad and even more guilty than normal.
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Infab
The Demon Fanatic
Chicago, Illinois
...Why do I keep coming here? To this place?
It isn't part of my programming... There are no attachments here anymore. They've ceased to be... Ceased to exist.
Yet... I still feel compelled to come here. Night after night. Just like before, in Dresden. Doktor Roth...
Do... Do I miss her? ...Can I feel something like that?
High on the fire escape, bolted to the side of the apartment complex, the tall black android sat. Every night, at around the same time, she would return to this specific spot on the fire escape and sit, folding her long legs beneath her. This spot was just outside the window of a certain apartment, where an elderly woman used to reside. Sweet, kind, selfless. There were a number of words one could use to describe this woman, and most of them had been true.
This old woman was the very reason Felicia Roth had survived so long, here so very far from her homeland. Edith Sackler was her name. She was an immigrant from the former East Germany, having moved to the United States following the reunification of Germany in 1990. Felicia had met Edith in the late 1990s, after being put to sleep and transported to the United States. An accident had occurred during her transport, waking her and allowing her to flee from federal containment. Edith gave her safe haven, hiding her from the US Government over the years, and Felicia had repaid her by providing for her and protecting her.
Edith had finally passed away due to heart complications, only a week prior.
Her apartment was now empty, as no new occupants had moved in yet. So Felicia could come and sit on the fire escape outside as long as she wanted. When she wasn't here, she was flying about. Primarily avoiding federal agencies that may have been still looking for her.
When she wasn't doing that, she was looking for crime to stop. After all, she had been built from scratch to be a superhero. The mighty Panzerfrau, East Germany's national hero. She was also the hero they would provide to join the Red Guard of the USSR. Those were... strange times for Felicia. Very strange. She often wondered what the Red Guard were up to now, as she was on the other side of the ocean now, in the beating heart of the capitalist world.
As her blue eyes moved about in their sockets, peering through her long black hair as she gazed down into the alleyway below, she began to notice movement. Thermal vision was engaged, and she soon saw what it was. A black van had coasted into the alleyway, the rear doors opening up. Six individuals emerged from the back, and one from the driver's seat at the front. She zoomed in, and took note of the firearms they were carrying. Two M4A1s, an AKS-74U, an HK23E, two MP5s, and a Remington 870 Marine Magnum shotgun.
Potential bank robbers? A plain clothes tactical team? Who were they, and what were they doing?
Felicia lifted herself from her seated position, gently hovering a few inches off the fire escape. There were two banks within the vicinity of the apartment complex. In addition, the homes of two local government officials as well as local branches of a handful of companies. Her mind processed the data, attempting to determine which location that these individuals were en route to. Those locations were narrowed down when she noticed them exit the alleyway, moving quietly up the sidewalk to the north.
In that direction, there's only one bank and two sets of corporate offices. They're armed to the teeth... so they may not be out to raid the office... or would they?
Felicia hovered through the alleyway above them, stopping at the corner of the alley to stay out of their view. She continued to watch from above, taking note of their movements.
They're moving in formation, checking corners, keeping watch on the rear. Displaying paramilitary tactics. Potential previous military experience? Members of a PMC, perhaps? Or something more sinister?
She floated high behind them, just out of sight, as they continued forth. Soon enough, the bank was in sight. It was fairly large, acting as the central bank for the Chicago arm of Clark & Bell Regional Banks. The banks dotted the northern midwest and east coast, really. Some believed they had ties to Luther Penwright and his vast enterprises, but those were supposedly only rumors. This one in particular seemed like it was about to be the victim of some forceful monetary withdrawals.
The robbers pushed through the entrance, into the lobby of the bank, and quickly got to work. Felicia could hear the shouting from where she floated, as well as warning shots fired into the ceiling.
It seemed that it was time to do her thing. She gently floated down, landing just outside the glass lobby doors. Before they even slid open for her, she took stock of what she saw. Two hostages. One was a janitor, and another was an employee that had seemingly stayed over late after work. It seemed they had come so well armed because they were intending to fight the police and SWAT whenever they arrived.
As the doors slid out of the way for Felicia, she carefully bent over to enter. She was so tall that she would have hit her head on the concrete above the doorway. It wasn't long before the robbers heard her metal legs clacking across the tile.
"'EY BOSS, WE GOT A SOOP!" shouted one of them, taking aim at her with his sub-machine gun. The janitor and employee which he had been holding hostage, quickly scrambled away, crawling across the floor towards one of the sofas in the lobby.
"Please, put down your weapons. Should you comply, you will not be harmed." stated Felicia, her tone calm but stern. She continued to approach. "If you do not comply, appropriate levels of force will be used."
Two of the other robbers rounded the counter where bank tellers usually operated, their weapons at the ready. Two assault rifles. "Fuck you and yer force, tin woman!" spat one, before firing off a burst of automatic fire. The bullets collided with Felicia's chest, but seemed to simply ricochet off or crumple on impact.
Felicia simply looked down at her chest where the bullets had collided. The paint wasn't even chipped. She glanced back up. "Alright, then. You brought this on yourselves." she said, still as calmly as before. Then, she flipped her hands over towards the trio. Palms facing towards them.
Abruptly, flashes of light burst forth from them, erupting from a small cluster of lenses at the center of each palm. A pair of energy beams darted across the room, both colliding with the firearms in two of the robbers' hands. Both exploded quite violently, stunning the robbers momentarily and distracting the third robber long enough for Felicia to move in. The moment he looked back her way, she planted the base of one of her long legs squarely into his chest. The impact was so forceful that he was sent sailing back into the teller's counter, colliding with it and flipping over it like a ragdoll.
The other two robbers were next. She delivered a backhand which knocked one out on impact, before grabbing the other by the throat and slinging him into a nearby pillar. However, a moment later, she would find herself being peppered by machine-gun fire. The goon wielding the HK23E had heard the commotion, and was now on approach from a room to the left behind the teller's counter. The high caliber rifle rounds collided with Felicia's torso, rocking her for a few moments under the sheer volume of fire, before she simply slung her arm up and fired off another beam of energy. This one was a lower power shot compared to the previous two, aimed squarely at the goon's knee.
The beam hit his knee, knocking it out from under him and forcing the goon to faceplant. It had burned away most of the kneepad he had been wearing, and had torched his pants leg. As a result, his knee was a bright pink from being scalded by the beam of energy. She'd then fire yet another beam, to destroy the machine gun as it lay on the ground nearby.
"Stay put, or I will make you stay put." she ordered, pointing towards the goon before shifting her attention towards the back rooms. She had dealt with four of them, so there were three left. She floated over the teller's counter, moving further into the building as she leaned through the door that the machinegunner had emerged from.
As she entered, she would come under fire yet again. Two of the remaining goons were at the end of the hallway, firing on her from positions of cover behind overturned file cabinets and desks. She held an arm in front of her face to protect her head, before pointing the fist of her other hand towards them. A small slot opened in her arm, revealing an exposed gun barrel, and from it was launched a small cylindrical object.
It was a flash-bang.
The object detonated just in front of the pair, blinding them both. Felicia closed the distance, and simply plowed her way through the barricade before delivering a series of punches to both goons. After a brief pummeling, both were unconscious. Now, all that was left was the shotgunner. He was likely at the vault, trying to get to whatever was inside. She shifted her vision to thermal yet again, peering through the walls of the building.
Soon, she found him. He seemed to be rigging explosives to the vault door to blow it open. She could easily reach him before he detonated them. It'd just take... a sort of direct approach.
As the goon finished rigging the bomb to the vault door, pressing the wires into the correct positions in the blast charge, he soon began to hear a series of thunderous crashes. As he turned about, the wall next to him violently erupted. Bursting inwards towards him. Through the debris Felicia darted, slamming her elbow into the side of the man's jaw. He spun almost three times on the spot, knocked silly from the impact, before simply collapsing to the floor.
She straightened up, gazing down at the now unconscious robber. The job was done. All of the robbers had been taken care of. She just had to move them to a proper position for the police when they arrived. She reached down and grabbed onto the goon's waistband, before lifting him up and carrying him through the building like a duffel bag. She would do the same to the others, eventually piling them up in the lobby.
She then looked to the bank employee and janitor, whom had been watching her work, and smiled. "Please, let law enforcement know that the situation is under control, if they've been notified. I'll remain here until they arrive, to make sure that our would-be robbers here don't do anything stupid."
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EdwardDewey98
Professional Argentine
[MAMIMI PROLOGUE]
On hearing her argument, Shadeling let out an audible - and frustrated - scoff in response to such rhetoric as if he'd heard it before. "Oh yeah, nice logic there." he said before pointing towards the strange robber. "Today it's this weirdo, but next time you get mugged will you do the same to a father of two who can't feed his kids? Or a drug addict desperate for a fix when no one is there to help them?" Shadeling crossed his arms, leaning against a broken shelf as he observed Mamimi. "Oh, but please, by all means, cripple more poor people and stop them from ever having a chance at redemption."
"Enough." Sentinel quickly chimed in, breaking his friend's train of thought. Shadeling only sighed and took a few steps away to check in on the robber again.
Sentinel looked down at first to Mamimi, then abck at the robber. While many miles away, he also heard the distant sirens of a police car and ambulance heading towards their direction. They still had time, given the business of the city, but it wasn't long; he then turned back to Mamimi to speak. "I get that you weren't here to prevent a crime, but you have a great power within you. I can see it." he says with a slight smile. The sirens could now be heard in the far distance, even to the others. "But such a power bears upon you a responsibility. Once he dropped his weapon, you could have just knocked him out. Now he's fighting for his life. Thus, Shadeling has a point; while he isn't your everyday robber, most of the people who do such crimes are poor folks. People struggling to make ends meet. Some do it out of greed, sure, but many are desperate. Then there's those abandoned by eveyone..."
He took another long look at Mamimi: "Sorry if I'm assuming, but people like you... what if you were in the place of that robber? What if a stronger vigilante had caught you stealing this food?"
The first emergency responder to arrive on the scene was the ambulance, and the clerk explained the situation to the EMTs outside who shortly after stormed into the wrecked store to tend to the robber. They looked quickly over towards the presence of Sentinel and the other super beings, but were otherwise preoccupied with the life that was in their hands. "You seem to not know who I am, so introductions are in order."
Sentinel offered his hand to Mamimi: "I'm Sentinel. And I'd like to know who you are."
Interacting: Mamimi Lordgenome
Lady Moldoma
[PANZERFRAU PROLOGUE]
The janitor and employee shared a look before running towards teh nearest phone in the bank, but it wasn't long until another hero had strolled in with a bang that made the robot aim her own weapons at the source of the shot. "That's a huge bitch!" said a man dressed in red as he walked towards her, holding a smoking SPAS-12 as he quickly slung it over his shoulder when he noticed all the unconscious goons on the ground. "Damn! You took all of these goons down on your own?" he asked with his strong Chicagoan accent. "Shit, Chiraq has no shit on you then... you a supe? You look like a suped up robot... a super robot babe... a SUPER... HUGE... robot babe!" he added, tilting his head.
Suddenly he pulled out his shotgun and fired it at a column on instinct, only for it to be that the clerk had emerged from the office to tell Panzerfrau that the cops were coming. Thankfully, the vigilante in red had missed but this close brush with death made the clerk freeze in total fear, his eyes glancing towards where the pellets had struck just inches away from him. "Oh! Heh, sorry I thought it was me and huge bitch here... say! Who are you? I thought I knew most supes in Chiraq, ever heard of me baby? Red Ghast in person~!"
But before the cops arrived, another had entered - clad in blue and with a cape. "Oh come ON! I am trying to score with the huge metal babe and you come here and ruin the vibe with your boy scout vibes!" Red Ghast then shouted as the hero floated towards them.
"I can tell you just arrived because this isn't a massacre." Sentinel commented with a grin before turning attention to Panzerfrau. "I assume you took out these punks, ma'am?" asked the hero as he offered a hand towards her. "Sentinel. And I see you have great power in your systems. Not the first time I've met a heroic machine. But question is, are you fully sentient? Or a creation of a genius?" he asked.
"Ugh... aren't you supposed to be like, doing... hero stuff somewhere else?" Red Ghast asked sarcastically as he paced around the hero.
But Sentinel only grinned: "Since 8-Balls arrest, I don't really trust you to keep Chicago safe. No offense, Red."
Interacting: Panzerfrau
Infab
Infab
The Demon Fanatic
Felicia's abrupt alertness at the sound of the first shotgun blast was soon shed, as the man dressed in red approached. He wasn't a villain, apparently. At least, he didn't act like one. Instead, he was more intent with flirting with her. She simply smiled at his efforts.
...He finds me attractive? Surprising. Most are scared of me due to my height.
However, another individual soon arrived. A man in blue, with a cape. Felicia immediately recognized them, even before they spoke. The Sentinel. The world's greatest hero. Edith had been a fan of Sentinel for quite a long time, as she watched him on the television back in her apartment. Felicia would often find herself sitting, legs crossed, on the floor of the apartment near the TV to join her. He was indeed pretty amazing, from what she had seen herself.
"Yes. They were intending to rob this bank. There's an explosive charge still mounted to the vault door, so the police should be notified of that. It's not armed, however, as I removed the detonation device." she responded, gently reaching out and shaking his hand.
"I am Panzerfrau. Hero of East Germany, and member of the Red Guard... Well, I was, anyway. That was a long time ago..." she responds, reaching up and brushing some of her black bangs out of her face. "I am fully sentient, though a few human concepts still puzzle me at times. I was brought to life by Doktor Viktor Roth, and his team of engineers and scientists in Dresden, East Germany, on the 5th of May in 1979."
...He finds me attractive? Surprising. Most are scared of me due to my height.
However, another individual soon arrived. A man in blue, with a cape. Felicia immediately recognized them, even before they spoke. The Sentinel. The world's greatest hero. Edith had been a fan of Sentinel for quite a long time, as she watched him on the television back in her apartment. Felicia would often find herself sitting, legs crossed, on the floor of the apartment near the TV to join her. He was indeed pretty amazing, from what she had seen herself.
"Yes. They were intending to rob this bank. There's an explosive charge still mounted to the vault door, so the police should be notified of that. It's not armed, however, as I removed the detonation device." she responded, gently reaching out and shaking his hand.
"I am Panzerfrau. Hero of East Germany, and member of the Red Guard... Well, I was, anyway. That was a long time ago..." she responds, reaching up and brushing some of her black bangs out of her face. "I am fully sentient, though a few human concepts still puzzle me at times. I was brought to life by Doktor Viktor Roth, and his team of engineers and scientists in Dresden, East Germany, on the 5th of May in 1979."
Lady Moldoma
Professional Sweetypie
"Good advice. Will do." She says, monotonously, although there was a subtle sense of aggravation in her tone.
Mamimi looked dead serious. "What responsibility do I have to society?" She tilted her head. "Sure you two are fine to go about and do what you can, but society has considered me dead for 4 years. I've been living in the woods because I don't want to talk to any of you. From what I can tell, if they're not willing to trust me with rights, your society doesn't have any weight behind their desire to make me follow their rules..."
Her face went from dead-serious to paled, and then incredibly red. She bit down, hard on her teeth. "Do you have any idea what those words mean?" She asks. "What I've experienced from your society is beyond abandonment, it's exile. Either I died at sixteen or I left behind everything I had. Not that I had much by that point..."
"If it's such a problem that I've put someone in such pain... I'll finish the job for you." She maintained eye-contact, while pointing simultaneously to the incapacitated thief, although it was an empty threat now, that could change. "Nobody came for me whenever I went through what made me who I am, I just have the sense to stop before somebody dies, if you think that's wrong, I'll be happy to correct my path by ending it right here for them." She stared daggers at Sentinel, not at all imposed by any sense of self preservation. Completely willing to talk to a physical god on the merit that she didn't recognize him as a higher authority.
"Then hopefully they'd be strong enough to kill me, otherwise I'd come back and finish what they started with a very different outcome." She says. "I welcome death, but most people can't give me the one I deserve. And those people are only stepping stones."
"If you have it in you to strike me down for how I feel about your ideals, go ahead, Mr. Hero, but in the end, you're just someone playing hero emboldened by their own sense of morality. You can't kill me in any way that matters."
"They Aren't." She said "You could be the messiah, and I wouldn't care."
"Well I would, but only so that I could take out my hate on you for letting me be brought into this existence and making me too stubborn to die." She adds.
"I'm not interested in continuing speaking to you..." She said, taking a few steps past Sentinel, ignoring his offer for a handshake...
... And Immediately collapsing from her declining physical state. Her nose going bloody as she slammed facefirst into the ground completely incapacitated. 5 Bullets from a 45. handgun, leading to a hole in her liver and several broken bones was still a lot for her to deal with, the fact that she had even been conscious enough to stand up, walk at all, and think clearly as she spoke, was beyond what any human could probably do.
Roda the Red
Nitpicker of swords
[DERBY PROLOGUE]
Queens, New York
The streets of New York, loud and bustling with activity both on wheels and on foot alike. People from all walks of life grinded away at their work or their education, all the while catching vague echoes of pedestrians and drivers throwing insults at each other, it was a day just like any other for the honest people, and the same case was also for those walking a path a little more...astray.Queens, New York
The sounds of the city were muffled the deeper one stepped into the narrow alleys between the large buildings, smaller corners where people could deal with things a little more privately, away from prying eyes. A rat calmly drank from a puddle, rippling from the droplets falling from atop at the end of the drainage, but the critter quickly seeked for shelter, as the silence was broken by the cry of pain from a nearby man. His cheek was turning beet red, swollen from the punch he'd just taken. "A-Alright! I'm sorry!" He spoke, having just fallen on his rear, a small pile of trashbags acting as a convenient seat. "I won't mess with ya no more!" He looked up, staring to the face at the middle figure of three, their white grins conrasting with the dark silhouettes their figures cast.
"Damn right ya won't." The tall, standing figure responded ominously, taking slow steps forward, the other two giggled from behind, each holding a lead pipe that rested atop their shoulders. "But I gotta make sure the lesson sticks. Y'know? Nothin' personal." He cracked his knuckles, the sound causing the defeated man to back away, panic visible in his eyes as his back hit a brick wall.
"Wait, no, I learned I swear, I SWEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR!" The desperate scream from the man echoed through the alley, a murder of crows taking flight into the cityscape.
. . .
Just a few blocks away, at an unassuming park that thankfully didn't sport many individuals at this time of day, the man now sat at the top of a flight of stairs, his thumbs prying open at the wallet he had rightfully earned from that sore loser, his knuckles visibly red from the altercation from just moments ago. "Tch. Bastard was poor as hell." He added while clicking his tongue, frowning with dissatistaction.
Randy Wilde
-Delta-Level Delinquent.
-Leader of the Sunset Cobras.
-Self-Proclaimed 'Toughest Motherfucker Around'.
-Took piano lessons for 8 years.
"Little bitch comes at me lookin' for beef and can't even fork some decent money for the troubles, really what's this city come to?" He waved his arms around vigorously as he spoke. He exhaled loudly from his nose, leaning back and resting his elbows on a higher step, a few lincolns freshly taken from the now-empty wallet pinched between his fingers.
"I told you, it's 2024, ain't no one holding cash around here anymore, but you was too thick-skulled to listen as always." Remarked the woman beside him, her hand reaching for her pocket, and pulling out a wrinkly pack of cigarettes. "Thought you said you didn't care about the money, anyways."
Agnes Philmore
-Non-Super Delinquent
-#2 of the Sunset Cobras.
-Special talent is always knowing a guy for the task at hand.
-Deathly afraid of penguins.
"Nah, it still don't matter, it's all about proving a point, y'know? All these fools walkin' around like they own the place, need to give them a reminder of who's the toughest motherfucker around." He smiled proudly, brushing his nicely combed hair with his fingers. While it was true that Randy could do with a nice dosage of humility, there was no denying that he wasn't all bark and no bite, he was blessed with powers well-above-average Delta category, so most of the time he was the victor of his own little duels. A somewhat big fish in a small pond. "Just thought it'd be nice to get a little more cake than this, bills ain't paying themselves, y'know?"
"Yeah, so long as no hero's around to put yo' ass in jail, that is." She added while the flint wheel of her lighter sparked multiple times before a tiny flame was secured. Randy simply shrugged. "Aw come on, we all know they owe a lot to their fancy suits and gear, just level the playin' field and I could kick that Saturn guy's ass. They'd be dragging their feet to my doorstep begging me to join." He folded his arms, looking scornfully at the sky. "Like hell I would anyways, got better things to do than pretending to be some self-righteous prick while playing hero or whatever, ain't that right, Derby?"
"Huh? Oh yeah, of course, boss!" The other boy sitting next to them turned his gaze up away from his phone, smiling at Randy with a light nod. "You've been getting real good with that right hook of yours too, by the way." He glanced back at his phone to finish reading a message, before crossing his arms and nodding with eyes closed. Randy's face lit up, opening his arms in a homely manner.
Derwent 'Derby' Dunlap
-Alleged non-super Delinquent.
-#3 of the Sunset Cobras.
-Expert gopher.
-Believed in Santa till age 14.
"ATTA BOY! It's so nice knowing that at least SOMEBODY'S got some faith in me here" He remarked, giving the woman the not-so-subtle stink eye.
"Oh come on, you know I'm always with ya, big guy! Through thick and thin, or whatever." The tip of her cigarette turned brighter as Agnes puffed in, followed by exhaling a clear cloud away from the group.
"Uh-Huh, sure you do." Both his tone and expression showed more than a little skepticism on her claim. "Anyways, holy shit I'm parched." He rubbed his neck, his prominent Adam's apple wiggling up and down. "Oi Derby." The Gopher's aquamarine eyes focused on Randy once more, ignoring the shitty pull he just got in his game. "Yeah Boss, what's u-" He was cut short by the taller man leaning closer. "Here." He extended his arm towards his friend-slash-lackey, the looted bills held just an inch away from his face. "Do me a favor and go get us some Big Gulps, just Cola for me, alright?"
While a bothersome task for most, Derby made no effort in concealing the gleam of excitement plastered all over his face, the one Agnes and Randy had become so accostumed to see whenever the expert gopher had his professional services requested. "Leave it to me, man!" Getting up on his feet with a hurried motion, Derby snatched the money from Randy's fingers. "Sweet, once you're back let's go shoot some hoops, I wanna see that bozo Brady eating dust like last time!" Derby nodded. "Sounds money, alright be back in a jiffy!" He then turned around, hopping down from the flight of stairs before breaking into a jog towards the Seven-Eleven just a few blocks away.
"...Eat dust, really? Didn't you barely beat Brady last time?"
"Hey, pal, a win's a win, okay?"
. . .
The soles of Derby's shoes clacked against the large concrete tiles of the sidewalk, his pace was a little clunky, slightly swaying side to side as his arms were wrapped around three massive cups of fizzy goodness, the kind of excessive sugary product that one could only really get in the land of the free. He extended his neck forward, his lips connecting with the straw of his own drink, with a splash of root beer soon coating the inside of his mouth.
Days like these served as a proper window to the life of young Derwent overall. Getting into small fights with local punks, lazying around while the occasional bit of junk food, hitting up the arcade or taking part in some manner of minor delinquency. At least whenever he didn't need to drag his ass to college, where he made his best effort to memorize the teachings of the class (with questionable results). Nearly every day the three of them would spend time together, moving like a unit, forming the most feared group this side of Queens....Or at least that's what Randy loved to repeat over and over, while Derby himself couldn't care less. He ultimately was happy to just spend time with his buddies, reputation be damned.
"P-Please let me go!"
Derby's ears perked up, his attention drawn towards the sound coming from the alley from across the street to his left. "Yer wasting yer time crying, man!" A lanky man, his face clumsily patched up, held a shorter, seemingly innocent man, by the collar of his shirt, before slamming him against the brick wall, earning a pained grunt from him. Oh, some street beef, wonder what's that about, better not get involved, though. Thought Derby, moments away from getting the two men away from his field of view. However, his interest was reignited as he saw a few more individuals stepping out from the shadows, standing behind the bruised man.
"So, is this how you're gonna get my pay?" Asked a hulking mass of muscle, his intimidating glare seeping through his dark shades.
August "Mauler" Hansen
-Beta Level Criminal
-Member of The Job Squad
-Makes a mean spanish tortilla
"Yeah, I know this fuckin' asshole, 's the owner of a couple gas stations, loaded to shit I tell ya." He then raised his fist. "Shouldn't be hard to have him cough up the dough." The victim's eyes went wide, instantly breaking into a cold sweat. His lips quivered for a moment, before shifting his expression with a flash of resolve. "Fuck off! Got workers to pay and a family to feed, I'm not giving a penny to scumbags like you or your friends here." His words were brave, but the uncontrollable shaking of his legs was a dead giveaway.
"Tch. We'll see about that." A straight jab was delivered to the civilian's face, threads of blood escaping his lips alongside a cry if pain. "Alright, help me out guys, nothin' a few broken bones can't solve."
As Derby was witness to the scene, he couldn't help but cringe by the sight. Those were the type of people the boy wished neither he nor his buddies ever turned into. Derby wasn't particularly proud of his lifestyle, but even he knew that there was a line that he shouldn't cross, while those people had clearly done it long ago. His eyebrows furrowed in sadness, guilty eyes darting between the alley and the path back to Randy and Agnes. His face scrunched up as the civilian was struck once more, a long sigh escaping the gopher's lips at last.
"A real stubborn piece of shit, eh? Hey, pass me a bat." The aluminum tool placed on his open palm reflected the dim afternoon sunlight, fingers gripping tightly at the wrapped handle. "Remember you're the one making things this difficult, you prick."
"Ahhh! Oh crap, just where am I now?!" The boy's loud voice was enough to catch the attention, most importantly the leading assailant's. He walked into the alley, holding the large drinks at an even higher position than before as to conceal his face. His movements were theatrically clumsy, with a few droplets spilling down as he progressed forward. Nobody spoke a word, baffled by the pathetic sight. Any local with a functioning brain would know that if they saw a bunch of criminals attacking someone in the streets, you either stayed away and called the police, or kept your head and walk past like you hadn't seen anything. In the eyes of the gang, Derby was either very stupid for walking down here without noticing, or EXTREMELY stupid for noticing and heading in here regardless. Even the civilian was puzzled by his entrance, but moreso relieved that no bat had hit him just yet.
"Excuse me sir, can you tell me where I am? I got lost!" Derby's tone was sweet and innocent, a convincing facade of ignorance forged through years of mischevous activity.
"Ye'll be more than lost if you don't get the fuck outta here right now, schmuck." Despite man's threatening words, he lowered his weapon on impulse. He didn't really wish to hurt this idiot, but he needed to make sure no one was around to get the job done.
"But mister! you gotta help me, I don't know what i'm gonna do if I don't, ah-" with a (purposely) miscalculated step, Derby 'lost' his balance, the massive cups flying away from his arms and towards the lanky criminal. Crystalline arches of saccharine liquid splashed his face and clothes, causing him to yelp from the cold shock, he stumbled back a couple steps, unintentionally releasing his grasp on his helpless target.
"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!" The man reached for his face with his hand, his thumb and index wiping away the dripping soda from his eyelids. Derby didn't speak for a moment, but gestured at the civilian by jerking his chin towards the street. It only took a second for the injured victim to understand the command, and another second for his legs to recover from the paralyzing fear, sprinting towards freedom with a panicked howl.
The purple-haired boy let out a quick sigh of relief, his gaze focusing back on the lanky man, unable to help the feeling that something about him looked strangely familiar. Regardless, he needed to bring the act back up. "O-Oh shit I'm so sorry! Alright gotta go man, bye bye!" Already able to tell what his soda-soaked friend what going to do next, Derby didn't allow for any opportunities to follow, dashing past him and through a few of the other goons, whose reaching hands he was barely able to dodge as he turned around, running over a trash trash container and leaping onto the firescape. Mauler couldn't help but let out a chuckle of amusement at the sight, arms cross with uninterest in taking part of this clown behavior.
"FUCK, SHIT! ALL OF YOU, GO GET THOSE TWO FUCKERS!" The lanky man took off his jacket, waving it as a flag as to remove as much liquid from it, the whole thing was already starting to feel sticky. "Hm? Hey, don't get any funny ideas, my guy." Mauler stepped forward, ominously looking down at his employer. "You don't get to assign me new targets just like that, I'm no bodyguard."
From a relatively safe position on the firescape, Derby layed his back against the wall, overhearing the conversation between the criminals, his hands gripping tightly at the black railing.
"Seriously!? Don't gimme that shit now!" The man replied, his face beet red from the repeated frustration and humiliation. "Didn't take ya for a nitpicky asshole!" Mauler grimaced, his large hand gently yet firmly placed on the man's shoulder, who froze in place in response. "You hired me to get rid of someone specific, and I take my deals seriously." He leaned closer, his shades doing little to conceal his intimidating glare. "We can deal with the money later, for now just show me where this Randy guy is, got it?"
Derby gasped, instinctively taking a hand up his mouth to muffle his voice.
"Tch. Fine!" The man mustered the courage to respond, slapping mauler's hand away and turning around. "That piece of shit usually hangs 'round the plaza at this hour." His visage evoked a sinister smile. "Can't wait to see him beaten to a pulp."
The boy's brain finally made the connection, why the man looked so familiar. That was Donald, a local troublemaker with a big ego and an even bigger mouth, him and Randy got into a bit of a squabble a few days ago, and walked away as the loser in the end, the band-aids and gauze on his face made recognizing his ugly mug right away pretty difficult. Fuck...No way Boss can deal with all of these guys... Derby stared at his feet, knowing well what he needed to do next, he was going to put himself at risk once again, but the safety of his friends was much more important. He closed his eyes, pinching the zipper of his jacket.
Donald cursed under his breath, putting his sticky leather jacket back on. The sensation was unpleasant to say the least, but more pressing matters awaited. "Alright, let's get a move on." Mauler then stepped forward. "So it's just this guy, right? Does he have anyone backing him up." Donald shrugged. "Not really, I mean he has these two lackeys who always follow him around, but they're nothing to worry abo-"
Time slowed down, Donald's cheek slowly became more squished, as a sole sunk further into his face. The man was propeled by the flying kick, his body landed face-first into a couple of nearby metal trash cans with a thunderous crash, his legs twitched in the air momentarily before losing consciousness all together. Derby landed on the floor on all fours with style, his hair now tied into a low ponytail, and both his colorful beanie and jacket were gone, leaving him with just an overall monochrome attire from top to bottom.
A tense atmosphere spread throughout the alley, Mauler and his six goons standing in disbelief at the scene, all eyes locked onto the uninvited guest. The serious Derby presented himself now, as well the drastic change in apparel made the man look so strikingly different that the group didn't even notice he was the same man as the twerp from a couple minutes ago, even without the use of a mask.
As one of the goons opened her mouth, Derby went in for the attack. He closed the gap, landing a quick jab at her stomach, she recoiled, the air escaping her lungs. The boy followed up with two extra strikes that made her lose her balance, then finished her off with a spinning kick to her face. By now the squad had begun its counterattack, one of the goons raised his bat, striking at the boy's back. "H-Hey!" He shouted, stumbling a couple steps forward, he turned behind him, looking at the batter with resentment, he twisted his feet, rushing at his opponent. Upon taking a second strike of the bat, he caught it with his bare hands, before reaching for his shirt collar and throwing him over his shoulder.
Two more goons came next, knuckles ready to strike. A barrage of haymakers came Derby's way, managing to dodge out of the way for the majority, but some still finding their way to his cheeks or gut. The boy's superhuman constitution meant the punches didn't do much, but he still prefered avoiding them altogether. He continued on the defensive, until he spotted a proper opening where the two goons were close to each other. He threw his arms forward, grabbing both of them by the back of the head. "Now, Kiss!" He brought the two together, faceful meeting faceful in a nastly clash, blood spurting out from their noses as they fell down on the floor.
"Phew... OH SHI-" The young man crouched, as the loud bang of a handgun was followed by the whistling of a bullet hitting the nearby bricks. Derby rushed to the shooter with a zig-zag motion, his hand soon gripping at the barrel. "Cut that out!" He yanked the weapon out of the goon's hand with a simple tug, his other hand then wrapping around the grip. "You're gonna wake up the whole neighborhood with all that noise." With that said, he applied pressure into the firearm, its steel frame giving in to the superhuman force, turning into two pieces with a satisfying snap. Derby reached for the trash can next to the two, lifting its lid and throwing the broken parts inside. The boy's eyes shifted between looking at the goon and the trash lid several times, before a sly smile formed into his expression.
*BONK*
Two more goons were now rushing down from the opposite end of the alley, but most importantly, behind them was that massive man with the shades, having the decided that enough is enough. Derby stared at the metal lid on his hands, thousands of calculations running through his brain with every passing milisecond, or better known as a gut feeling. He winded his arm back from the opposite side, staring at the incoming goons as he gently twisted his wrist, getting a better feel of the disc's weight. He tossed it forward, becoming an improvised throwing weapon that spun rapidly through the air. It connected with one of the goon's head, evoking a thunderous clang as it struck the solid skull. It didn't stop there, however, as the lid bounced off and traveled straight into the other lackey's head, repeating the exact same scenario, taking both out in a single throw.
As a nice bonus, the lid even bounced once more towards Mauler, but the man slapped the puny frisbee away with a lazy arm swat. Once he got close to Derby, he threw a barrage of punches, to which the boy defended against with a combination of blocking and dodging. Unlike the goons, Mauler's strikes were quite powerful, and would've easily broken his bones had he been just an average passerby. Having remained on the offensive for a while now, the mercenary grew confident, aiming to end Derby with an overhead hammer strike.
"Huh." Mauler looked in shock at his arm, his attack completely stopped by Derby's scrawny hand gripping at his wrist. His arms bulged and vibrated from the constant forced he was applying, but against his will, his whole limb was slowly shoved to the side, unable to escape the iron grip. "You should probably hit the gym more often, pal." A straight punch to his massive chest sent Mauler flying, his back hitting the wall behind him.
Getting back on his feet, August spat a mixture of blood and saliva, smirking through the pain. The boy felt confident, lungingforward with a second punch, with Mauler responding with one of his own. Knuckles clashed with one another.
"OH, FUCK! OW OW OW." Derby hopped backwards repeatedly, holding onto his hurt hand, blowing at his knuckles which were red and peeled from the impact. He looked up, staring at the new coat of shiny chrome on Mauler's arms.
The mercenary closed the gap, the two fighters exchanging a series of blows with each other. Every time Derby blocked Mauler's attacks, he could feel his bones vibrate from their hardness. Most annoyingly, however, was just how good the big man was at taking hits and continue to stand, truly prime meatshield material. It was about now that his buddies probably started wondering where he was, and he couldn't risk getting caught in this messy situation by them. He needed to end this soon.
August witnessed in their closeness how his enemy's hands began to glow, a lavender radiance that continued to grow brighter, sparks dancing around them in an erratic fashion. The boy went for an uppercut, caught between the mercenary's cross arms, but a burst of energy blasted from Derby's fist, prying the man's block open, leaving open to attack for but a moment. The small fighter stomped the floor, winding one last strike at Mauler's face, the erratic energy further enhancing the blow's power.
The Mercenary took of much faster than last time, his back heavily cracking the wall behind him, the sound from the crash would've fooled most that a demolition was in process. Derby heaved as he observed the man take a couple steps from his brick cradle, before stumbling onto the floor, unconscious.
The gopher sighed with relief, triumphantly falling down on his butt. Once again he got himself into a mess that he couldn't help but intervene in, and this time it was particularly wild, it was late and he was going to need a good lie to tell his friends in a moment. But he was able to protect them from the shadows, and all else was irrelevant, be it the beat up bad guys around, the pain in his hand or the fact that Sentinel is right there looking at him right now.
Hold on.
"Uh Oh."
Breadman
Big loaf supreme
Bronx, New York
"Sam, honey are you coming for dinner, or what?" Her mother's voice echoed through the apartment. Samantha stopped typing on her phone and raised her head to answer.
"Coming right in. Just have to set something straight with someone I'm meeting later." It was work related. It always was. Nobody really bothered to call her just to see how things were going. It was always something about the bookstore or someone asking to do something for tonight. Sometimes it was both from the same person. This time it was someone new on the scene and to his credit, he was trying to be receptive about things as much as he can. 'Rupert gave me a manhandling, but I got him in the end. See you later tonight.
' His last message. She smiled a little bit. Guy's got the spirit. Has to if the old man got a hold of him.
Samantha put the phone away and entered the family apartment in again from the balcony. It was starting to look really nice. The bookstore had picked up business ever since her mom finally caved in and allowed them to open up a section for comic books and manga. Lots of kids and teens in the neighborhood started to flock as soon as they heard they can walk in a get their fill of over the top nonsense and just hang out to talk about it. The bit of extra revenue was always good, but Sam had the pleasure to tell her mom a nice fat 'Told you so'
"What's on the menu today?"
"Making the roast beef your father likes." Juliana proudly proclaimed as she brought the succulent meal to the table. Sam's father was of course overjoyed as he saw it coming this way as he started to rub his hands in anticipation. "Are you staying for after dinner, dear?"
"Sorry, can't tonight. I have to meet with someone."
"Business or pleasure?"
"Business." Samantha sighed "He's nice at least."
"Is Rupert putting him through his paces?" Dom asked as he carved up the meat.
"Yeah, he just messaged me that Rupert gave him a rough time."
"Good ol' Shadowboxer. Always eager to teach people what pain feels like."
"Didn't he train you?" Juliana spoke up "I never did ask you about that."
"You haven't asked me about a lot of things." Sam shrugged "You and dad just kinda, accepted what I was getting into."
"Well, your father was going to try and stop you the first night you went out, remember that?"
"Yeah...yeah I do."
"No daughter of mine is going out to fight crime, he said." Julianna puffed up her chest and raised her arm, to imitate her husband and burst into laughter "I had to tell him that I was out there whooping ass at a younger age than you were when I started out and him?" She shoved a thumb at his direction "He found a magic wrench while he was doing apprenticeship at a mechanic while lying about his age and what does he do? Goes on an clobbers mafia goons with it."
"Oh, don't make me the sole bad guy here." Dom objected. "You have your own issues too."
"What, what do you mean?"
"Its nothing."
"Come on, out with it."
"Well...whats with the heels and fishnets?" Her mom looked like she was forced to say something much worse. Like a confession in front of a priest. Her dad on the other hand found the melodrama funny. "Isn't it...not comfortable at all?"
"Ok, I get you." Sam put a hand in front of her to calm her down "I have reasons. Heels? They're reinforced and I got a tutor to teach me a fighting style that actually uses them so less chance of a slip. Remember Catastrophy?"
"Yeah...she did fight in those and they hurt like a motherfucker if she landed a kick..."
"She's my mentor." Juliana did a spit take.
"Cat...Catastrophy? My arch nemesis from thirty years ago is teaching my daughter how to beat up bad guys?" Dom started to laugh.
"She's mellowed out after she got married. Teaches Pilates and exotic fighting styles."
"Ok...ok" Juliana needed a brief moment to calm down. This is probably why she didn't pry into her daughter's career too much. "I'll trust you on this one. What about those fishnets?"
"I just like to show off." Her parents both burst into laughter, Sam just smiled and shrugged.
"You got that from your mom."
The family dinner continued on. Topics switched back and forth between people, the bookstore, politics and what's been happening around the world. It didn't last too long however as Sam had to take her leave to get to her own apartment. Clock was ticking and she needed to prepare for her patrols as the Black Dove.
---
Later that night at the docks
Overlooking a rooftop, Dove could see the operations being carried out in the middle of the night. The city has seen its fair during the recent crime wave, but while the chaos was unfurring, smaller players were making moves to fill in the holes left over. The Mazolla family had been a tiny operation of two bit gangsters. Recently due to hero activity targetting their rivals and bigger families, they decided to grow a pair and get a cut of the drug trade. Unlike some others, they didn't really have any qualms of what sort of stuff gets transported in and to whom they're selling it to. All that matters was for them to get cash and connections.
It wasn't a big operation. A few guys armed with handguns or a machine gun at most. A truck marked to have furniture, but loaded with whatever drugs they were shipping in from somewhere out of the country. A few duffel bags full of cash. Likely laundered though one of their businesses. Not really anything out of the ordinary for small time players like these guys. They were going to keep them small time.
Just as they planned, the new guy was going to make his entrance now. Strolling through to the mafiosos with a pace only someone with too much confidence can have. The man Dove was helping break into super hero work stopped in front of them. Armed with a mace and covered head to toe like a medieval knight. At least the armor looked like one. Dove didn't exactly think it would be authentic if it was compared and examined by any museum curator.
"Hey uh, Jimmy. Take a look at this guy here."
"What the? Who's this guy?"
"Renaissance fair is closed or something?"
"You are breaking the law by smuggling and distributing narcotics. You will stop and you will turn yourselves in."
"Or what?"
"Or you will face the consequences."
As the goons were being distracted, Black Dove moved from her position down to ground level. Their sentry was distracted much like the rest of them by her partner. Amateur. She snuck up on him and grabbed the man by the collar. He managed to let out a grunt before his head was smashed against the wall he was standing next to. So far so good.
"Alright, consequences. Let em have it!" The four Mazolla mooks and the two smugglers upholstered their guns and began to empty what they had into the armored figure. He flinched and some shots made him slow down, but he started to move forward. With a swing of the mace, he already took one of them down. He screamed as his knee was bend inwards. Another one started to run away only to get grabbed by the collar and an armored fist to collide with his nose.
The two smugglers made a run for the truck, trying to get as far away from the super freak as possible only to be met by Black Dove. One was ballsier than the other as he pulled out a switch blade and tried to take slashes at her. She dodged backwards a few times and grabbed his arm on the last swing. Her counter attack came in the traditional knee to the groin, forcing him to drop the blade. She grabbed his collar with one hand and the belt with the other and slammed him against the truck. His head bouncing back from the metal and the concrete as it collided with both. The other smuggler was truing to reload his gun, but was spooked by what was happening enough to fail to properly reload in time. As soon as he was about to raise his gun, Dove let out her sonic scream. The ear splitting screech made him grab his ears in pain and fall to his knees. She drove her kneed into his nose and a spray of blood flew out.
Dove rushed to help take care of the final pair of criminals only to see that her partner for the night had already taken care of things. One of them was unconscious on the ground and the other was being held up by the collar and trying to get away to no success.
"Let me go!"
"Not until you share some information with us."
"I don't know shit. Vinnie is the brains of the job and he's not here."
"Oh, where is he then?"
"I aint tell you anything you crazy broad! I aint no stoolie!"
"You just told us who the brains is." Dove crossed her arms "The rest will come out sooner or later. We can make things easier for you."
"Nah fuck that. You're gonna have to work for it. I'm not saying anything else." The mook kept trying to fight out of the grip. "Who the hell are you anyway? Bitch and Tin man?"
"She's Black Dove and I'm Knight. Should be simple enough for even your pea brain."
"Nah fuck that, I have a better names for ya. Try-" Knight smashed a gauntlet fist into his face and knocked him out.
"Thanks. I could feel the racial epithet coming." She looked at the man as Knight dropped him on the ground "Tie em up and meet up on the roof. Cops are too busy to react to this area in time. I'll take a look for anything about Vinnie or this deal."
A few minutes alter they were both on the rooftop that Dove had previously used to observe the operation. Even if they didn't learn where 'Vinnie' was holed up, they still busted a drug deal and were about to send a few more hardened criminals to jail. Not too bad for tonight.
"Find anything?" Knight asked as he climbed up the ladder.
"Not much, but these guys weren't smart enough to delete texts or use burner phones. Probably can trace something in a day or two."
"That's good." A ripple of light shined over the Knight's armor and most of his gear dissapeared, leaving only the helm on his head. Now he was wearing a jumpsuit and sneakers. Hardly a good compliment to his gear. "You'll keep me in the loop about it, right?"
"Yeah, I will." She was quiet for a moment before her curiosity got the better of her "You know, we've been out for a week now, you never told me much about yourself."
"I didn't." He shrugged "Guess I can tell you something at least. This armor. " He pointed to the helm on his head "Would you believe I have an antique shop I inherited from my grandpa and this was his prized item. Put it on and a few seconds later I was going medieval."
"You're joking with me." Dove smiled "Is that really how you got it?"
"Cross my heart and hope to die." He pointed over his shoulder "Pay me a visit sometime at the shop on main street and I'll show you what else we have. Maybe we can track down these goons easier at a quiet place."
"Mr. Knight, if I didn't know any better, I would think you were asking me out for a study date." She smiled "I don't even know your face."
"True, this tin can is a good shield. Doesn't beat you with your domino mask and white wig."
"Noticed that, did you? Alright. I think I'll take you up on it."
"Sam, honey are you coming for dinner, or what?" Her mother's voice echoed through the apartment. Samantha stopped typing on her phone and raised her head to answer.
"Coming right in. Just have to set something straight with someone I'm meeting later." It was work related. It always was. Nobody really bothered to call her just to see how things were going. It was always something about the bookstore or someone asking to do something for tonight. Sometimes it was both from the same person. This time it was someone new on the scene and to his credit, he was trying to be receptive about things as much as he can. 'Rupert gave me a manhandling, but I got him in the end. See you later tonight.
' His last message. She smiled a little bit. Guy's got the spirit. Has to if the old man got a hold of him.Samantha put the phone away and entered the family apartment in again from the balcony. It was starting to look really nice. The bookstore had picked up business ever since her mom finally caved in and allowed them to open up a section for comic books and manga. Lots of kids and teens in the neighborhood started to flock as soon as they heard they can walk in a get their fill of over the top nonsense and just hang out to talk about it. The bit of extra revenue was always good, but Sam had the pleasure to tell her mom a nice fat 'Told you so'
"What's on the menu today?"
"Making the roast beef your father likes." Juliana proudly proclaimed as she brought the succulent meal to the table. Sam's father was of course overjoyed as he saw it coming this way as he started to rub his hands in anticipation. "Are you staying for after dinner, dear?"
"Sorry, can't tonight. I have to meet with someone."
"Business or pleasure?"
"Business." Samantha sighed "He's nice at least."
"Is Rupert putting him through his paces?" Dom asked as he carved up the meat.
"Yeah, he just messaged me that Rupert gave him a rough time."
"Good ol' Shadowboxer. Always eager to teach people what pain feels like."
"Didn't he train you?" Juliana spoke up "I never did ask you about that."
"You haven't asked me about a lot of things." Sam shrugged "You and dad just kinda, accepted what I was getting into."
"Well, your father was going to try and stop you the first night you went out, remember that?"
"Yeah...yeah I do."
"No daughter of mine is going out to fight crime, he said." Julianna puffed up her chest and raised her arm, to imitate her husband and burst into laughter "I had to tell him that I was out there whooping ass at a younger age than you were when I started out and him?" She shoved a thumb at his direction "He found a magic wrench while he was doing apprenticeship at a mechanic while lying about his age and what does he do? Goes on an clobbers mafia goons with it."
"Oh, don't make me the sole bad guy here." Dom objected. "You have your own issues too."
"What, what do you mean?"
"Its nothing."
"Come on, out with it."
"Well...whats with the heels and fishnets?" Her mom looked like she was forced to say something much worse. Like a confession in front of a priest. Her dad on the other hand found the melodrama funny. "Isn't it...not comfortable at all?"
"Ok, I get you." Sam put a hand in front of her to calm her down "I have reasons. Heels? They're reinforced and I got a tutor to teach me a fighting style that actually uses them so less chance of a slip. Remember Catastrophy?"
"Yeah...she did fight in those and they hurt like a motherfucker if she landed a kick..."
"She's my mentor." Juliana did a spit take.
"Cat...Catastrophy? My arch nemesis from thirty years ago is teaching my daughter how to beat up bad guys?" Dom started to laugh.
"She's mellowed out after she got married. Teaches Pilates and exotic fighting styles."
"Ok...ok" Juliana needed a brief moment to calm down. This is probably why she didn't pry into her daughter's career too much. "I'll trust you on this one. What about those fishnets?"
"I just like to show off." Her parents both burst into laughter, Sam just smiled and shrugged.
"You got that from your mom."
The family dinner continued on. Topics switched back and forth between people, the bookstore, politics and what's been happening around the world. It didn't last too long however as Sam had to take her leave to get to her own apartment. Clock was ticking and she needed to prepare for her patrols as the Black Dove.
---
Later that night at the docks
Overlooking a rooftop, Dove could see the operations being carried out in the middle of the night. The city has seen its fair during the recent crime wave, but while the chaos was unfurring, smaller players were making moves to fill in the holes left over. The Mazolla family had been a tiny operation of two bit gangsters. Recently due to hero activity targetting their rivals and bigger families, they decided to grow a pair and get a cut of the drug trade. Unlike some others, they didn't really have any qualms of what sort of stuff gets transported in and to whom they're selling it to. All that matters was for them to get cash and connections.
It wasn't a big operation. A few guys armed with handguns or a machine gun at most. A truck marked to have furniture, but loaded with whatever drugs they were shipping in from somewhere out of the country. A few duffel bags full of cash. Likely laundered though one of their businesses. Not really anything out of the ordinary for small time players like these guys. They were going to keep them small time.
Just as they planned, the new guy was going to make his entrance now. Strolling through to the mafiosos with a pace only someone with too much confidence can have. The man Dove was helping break into super hero work stopped in front of them. Armed with a mace and covered head to toe like a medieval knight. At least the armor looked like one. Dove didn't exactly think it would be authentic if it was compared and examined by any museum curator.
"Hey uh, Jimmy. Take a look at this guy here."
"What the? Who's this guy?"
"Renaissance fair is closed or something?"
"You are breaking the law by smuggling and distributing narcotics. You will stop and you will turn yourselves in."
"Or what?"
"Or you will face the consequences."
As the goons were being distracted, Black Dove moved from her position down to ground level. Their sentry was distracted much like the rest of them by her partner. Amateur. She snuck up on him and grabbed the man by the collar. He managed to let out a grunt before his head was smashed against the wall he was standing next to. So far so good.
"Alright, consequences. Let em have it!" The four Mazolla mooks and the two smugglers upholstered their guns and began to empty what they had into the armored figure. He flinched and some shots made him slow down, but he started to move forward. With a swing of the mace, he already took one of them down. He screamed as his knee was bend inwards. Another one started to run away only to get grabbed by the collar and an armored fist to collide with his nose.
The two smugglers made a run for the truck, trying to get as far away from the super freak as possible only to be met by Black Dove. One was ballsier than the other as he pulled out a switch blade and tried to take slashes at her. She dodged backwards a few times and grabbed his arm on the last swing. Her counter attack came in the traditional knee to the groin, forcing him to drop the blade. She grabbed his collar with one hand and the belt with the other and slammed him against the truck. His head bouncing back from the metal and the concrete as it collided with both. The other smuggler was truing to reload his gun, but was spooked by what was happening enough to fail to properly reload in time. As soon as he was about to raise his gun, Dove let out her sonic scream. The ear splitting screech made him grab his ears in pain and fall to his knees. She drove her kneed into his nose and a spray of blood flew out.
Dove rushed to help take care of the final pair of criminals only to see that her partner for the night had already taken care of things. One of them was unconscious on the ground and the other was being held up by the collar and trying to get away to no success.
"Let me go!"
"Not until you share some information with us."
"I don't know shit. Vinnie is the brains of the job and he's not here."
"Oh, where is he then?"
"I aint tell you anything you crazy broad! I aint no stoolie!"
"You just told us who the brains is." Dove crossed her arms "The rest will come out sooner or later. We can make things easier for you."
"Nah fuck that. You're gonna have to work for it. I'm not saying anything else." The mook kept trying to fight out of the grip. "Who the hell are you anyway? Bitch and Tin man?"
"She's Black Dove and I'm Knight. Should be simple enough for even your pea brain."
"Nah fuck that, I have a better names for ya. Try-" Knight smashed a gauntlet fist into his face and knocked him out.
"Thanks. I could feel the racial epithet coming." She looked at the man as Knight dropped him on the ground "Tie em up and meet up on the roof. Cops are too busy to react to this area in time. I'll take a look for anything about Vinnie or this deal."
A few minutes alter they were both on the rooftop that Dove had previously used to observe the operation. Even if they didn't learn where 'Vinnie' was holed up, they still busted a drug deal and were about to send a few more hardened criminals to jail. Not too bad for tonight.
"Find anything?" Knight asked as he climbed up the ladder.
"Not much, but these guys weren't smart enough to delete texts or use burner phones. Probably can trace something in a day or two."
"That's good." A ripple of light shined over the Knight's armor and most of his gear dissapeared, leaving only the helm on his head. Now he was wearing a jumpsuit and sneakers. Hardly a good compliment to his gear. "You'll keep me in the loop about it, right?"
"Yeah, I will." She was quiet for a moment before her curiosity got the better of her "You know, we've been out for a week now, you never told me much about yourself."
"I didn't." He shrugged "Guess I can tell you something at least. This armor. " He pointed to the helm on his head "Would you believe I have an antique shop I inherited from my grandpa and this was his prized item. Put it on and a few seconds later I was going medieval."
"You're joking with me." Dove smiled "Is that really how you got it?"
"Cross my heart and hope to die." He pointed over his shoulder "Pay me a visit sometime at the shop on main street and I'll show you what else we have. Maybe we can track down these goons easier at a quiet place."
"Mr. Knight, if I didn't know any better, I would think you were asking me out for a study date." She smiled "I don't even know your face."
"True, this tin can is a good shield. Doesn't beat you with your domino mask and white wig."
"Noticed that, did you? Alright. I think I'll take you up on it."
AriAriAbabwa
Don't lose Ari~♪ Shine bright Ari~♪
Zeynep bint Ahmed - Upiór
New Orleans, Louisiana
“Boss!” the first driver said, hopping out. “Sorry for the delay. There was some roadkill and a bunch of dogs or something in the way. Had to scare them off, and—”
“That’s not the issue!” Morgan slammed a newspaper into his face, making the driver sputter as he hastily grabbed the paper. “I trusted you with finding a new source for our product last time, Frank, and now look what happened!”
“‘Girl dead of drug overdose in night club’—What the hell?!”
“The police are gonna put more pressure on us, thanks to you! Hazard a guess what that means for our sales?”
“Uh… I’m guessing it’s bad?”
“Obviously!” Morgan spun around with a huff. “Get everything stocked up for the night. I have to make some calls; see if I can throw the fuzz off our tails.”
“Woah! A pooch!” The voice belonged to one of the lower mooks who opened the first truck. The thugs all looked around to see an all-black dog prancing out of the vehicle.
Only problem was, a pooch of that size with ragged fur and bloodied teeth like that meant it was “A fucking wolf!”
“Actually, wolves don’t live around this city or—” The wolf growled and pounced on the mook, knocking him flat on his back as the gang erupted into shouts. They yelled to put it down, to shoot, only for the mook to respond with disdain at the weapons being pointed scarily close to him.
The wolf bit his collar, dragging him away with surprising speed and strength. “What are you lot waiting for?!” Morgan shouted. “After them!”
The mook screamed as it dragged him through the warehouse, away from the light and into a darkened dead-end. He instinctively curled up, protecting his neck with his hands, expecting a fierce bite. Only… the dragging stopped. He cautiously looked around, and as his peers drew in, they all realized the wolf had vanished!
And now that nobody was near the trucks, the wolf-turned-vampire hit a switch.
Bright orange flames illuminated the warehouse, blowing out windows and knocking over shelves as the three trucks exploded.
A gangster picked up the coughing Morgan, and they all looked out in silence. Up until the growling call of “Frank!”
“What’re you looking at me for?! I dunno why they blew!”
“I’ll deal with you later. Everyone, save as much product as you can!”
The gang hesitantly split up for the shelves. So focused they were on saving the drugs from fire that none thought to check above the rafter beams. Zeynep bint Ahmed perched above with a watchful eye, the red irises reflecting the inferno of her creation. Dipping her large blowout-rimmed garbo hat, Zeynep morphed into a bat, flying into the fray.
One by one, the gangsters fell, knocked unconscious by someone they never even knew was there. One fell from a direct punch to the skull. Another swept by their legs and dragged away to meet the same fast asleep state.
“Frank, gimme a status report!” Morgan yelled with a crate of drugs in hand. “Frank! I’m just about ready to shove you into those flames!”
A figure appeared before the boss. For a split second, he thought one of his members had come over. In the next, he dropped the crate into an unsatisfying shatter. Morgan reached for his pistol.
Zeynep drew in faster than his eye could catch. One swipe cleaved the gun away, the same hand snatching the Morgan’s wrist with a crunch overshadowed by his pained scream. Zeynep kicked his feet out, forcing the man onto his knees. He yelled as her nails cut into his arm, penetrating a vein and turning his wrist into a bloody squirt gun.
What he felt next was the soft sensation of the woman’s lips over the wound, his arm constricting as she sucked it up like a straw. Below the pants, he got wood.
She released him with a quenched sigh, and Morgan finally got a look at the intruder. She was well-built, with a toned body shown off through a deep V-necked suit. In any other circumstances, his knees would have gone weak all the same—just for different reasons.
“Your faulty supply killed one of my favorite customers,” she said, spitting drops of his blood from her messy lips. “Seeing as you have irreversible dealt damage to my brand, I thought it fair to do the same to you.”
“You… You’re that club owner! You bitch! How was I to know something was off with that product? And now you kill my men—?”
“Hush, darling. They’re fine. I put them all outside for your favorite authorities to collect. And this will be the last you see of me.” Zeynep grabbed his chin, forcing Morgan to meet her eyes. She opened her mouth in a grin, revealing two sharpened canines dripping crimson. “As long as you stay out of my club.”
She pulled the pale-faced leader up to his shaky feet, dusting his back off as she walked him through the burning warehouse. “Put some pressure over it. Wrap a tourniquet if you know how. If you get to a hospital before a few minutes pass, you might just survive.”
The two reached the exit doors. Morgan eyed all the unconscious bodies of his gang, laid out side by side akin to a makeshift morgue. “Wh-What are you—?” He was left dumbfounded; Zeynep had vanished. Just in time for the sirens to near.
A swarm of bats flew to the flat rooftop of some distant building. Fog morphed inside the swarm, the chittering coming to a high as Zeynep appeared within. The bats dispersed as she wiped her fingers of Morgan’s blood. She slowly walked around, taking in the beauty of New Orleans—now with a backdrop of a pillar of smoke.
simj26
Awful, Terrible, No-good Layabout
Kisara McDowell
It was just one whole string of bad luck for this particular job. Rent was due, and the recent debacle with the damned virtual Youtuber had more or less nearly dried up her clientele. She couldn’t keep cruising by with the good detective’s own paycheck. He gave her this new life, and she was sick of drying up his goodwill. Even then, when the woman entered her office bawling a river, she found it difficult to ask for payment. Finding a cat was normally a cheap job, maybe enough to put some food on the table for a fortnight, but the circumstances surrounding it forced her to draw her grubby pink hands off the offer of money. Lady’s kid had gone missing nearly a month ago, and the cops had already more or less given up the search. The missing cat was the last thing she had to remember of her kid. one Taking anything from a vulnerable woman like her would have been kind of shitty. She’d already gone through so much. The videos may call her a monster, and the people could call her a thug and no-good thug. She could be what they wanted her to be, but that would be far too easy. It was always easier to beat sense into mean name-callers, but the last time she went down that route, she ended up slapped with a nice jail term. She could do better. She had to do better.
No matter how hard it was to take another step forwards, no matter how much she was pushed, she would never go back to that life ever again.
That said, while it was part of what she did, finding cats was still a hassle. Locating a tabby-ginger somewhere in the Bronx was an ordeal in and of itself. Not to mention the current climate around that damned exposé on her. The video had made its rounds, and not a small number of people had derided her for her relationship with Terrors. Those who were either too much in a booze-induced haze to recognise her or did not bother about her previous affiliations had been of no use either. Most of the actual information she actually got led to dead ends.
Except for one, delivered by a young girl whose mother dragged her away the moment she recognised who her daughter was talking to. She had apparently seen a tabby ginger near an abandoned residential building, its windows boarded up and doors locked. A surprising place for a cat to be, but on closer inspection of the building, it became clearer to the horned detective that it wasn’t as abandoned as it was made out to be. Air-conditioning units hummed by the side of the building, and, more tellingly, the doors were locked. Anywhere else, this place would have been busted wide open on day one.
The next conundrum was how, exactly, she was to enter the building. Breaking into the place seemed like the best option, but it was going to be far more problematic if it really was a residence of some kind. She knocked once or twice, but received no reply. She eventually settled for clawing her way up the walls, digging her fingers into the concrete, and clambering onto the fire escape.
The doors leading to said fire escape were, thankfully, left unlocked. At least whoever was in this place was mindful of fire safety. As she crept into the hallway past the door, it became even clearer that this place was inhabited. The hallways were clean. The walls and lighting were barely maintained, but the floors were kept free of trash and detritus that would usually clog up derelicts like these. But the door to her right didn’t seem right. It was reinforced metal, with a glass window, further reinforced with steel bars. Curiosity having gotten the better of her, she crept up and peered in. The light that managed to get through the glass did little to illuminate the inside. She tried the handle. No luck. Locked as well. She started to get the feeling this wasn’t a place she was supposed to have broken into, a feeling that this place would probably end up with her in big trouble with some big people.
As she continued to look about, voices began to drift up from the stairwell.
“Go and fuckin’ check, dammit.”
“Why’s it gotta be me? You do it!”
“Look, I don’t know who that was knockin’ on the door, but if someone’s sendin’ people here, it’s gotta be either you, me, or one of the products upstairs. You sayin’ it was you? ‘Cuz it sure ain’t me.”
“I get what you’re saying, but why me?”
“Because I said so!” A loud thump, followed by a pained exclamation.
“Alright, alright! Jesus fuck, fuckin’ bossin’ me around.”
Footsteps began to ascend the stairs. She spun around the hallway, confused. Where could she go? Where could she hide? As the seconds to her being discovered grew shorter, she turned to the door, and, her left arm lighting up with energy, punched through the side of it, and barged into the dark room. She shut the door behind her.
As she caught her breath, she started to wonder. Why did she do that? She could have taken a mook or two. Before she could further entertain her thoughts, something moved in the darkness. Many somethings, actually. She was suddenly overcome with the feeling that she was not somewhere she was supposed to be once again. The feeling of many eyes upon her back overwhelmed her, and she resisted the urge to turn and send an array of energy beams behind her.
She took a deep breath, and summoned power to her left arm, and whirled around. The rings around the armored arm lit up dimly, casting some light into the room.
And there, right in front of her, a ginger tabby studied her curiously.
That wasn’t the thing that caught her attention, though. As she raised her hand upwards, spreading the light of her makeshift lantern-arm forth. Rows and rows of bunk beds lined the cramped room. Girls and boys, each no older than maybe 13, sat up right in their beds, looking towards her, the light of her arm reflected in their hopeless eyes.
“Oh.” She said quietly. Unthinking, she bent down and picked up the cat.
This was definitely not on the list of what she had expected to find snooping around here. Well, it probably was, but it was really low on the scale, if she were to ignore all the other telltale signs. She bit her lower lip as the cat she held in her hands decided to do the same to her unarmoured hand. “Could you not?” She whispered to the animal and slapped it gently on the head. It released her finger, and hissed irritably.
With all the supers running around, one would think the crime rate would have gone down at some point. Still, crime paid, very handsomely. There were rich people out there who bought any kind of goods at a high price, some within legal means, and some without. Human lives weren't much different to them. What they did with children like these were better off left unimagined. Terrors had never engaged in activities like these, but they had stumbled into places that operated the same way while crashing through the neighbourhood. Small apartment buildings, like this one, refurbished to house rooms and rooms of people, or children. Kept here to be fed and cleaned, and then shipped off to a catwalk somewhere to show off to the clients. Those that don't get sold off to the highest bidder were eventually put up as cheaper products, either left in a sweatshop or a brothel somewhere.
And from the looks of the eyes on the kids, they knew exactly where they were headed to. Deafening, quiet hopelessness was thick in the air.
She shouldn't play the hero. She was just some schmuck who took a wrong turn somewhere in life, tried to climb out of the pit she drove herself into, and ended up being kicked back down again. She should just call the cops, grab the cat, and get out of here. Whatever happens next depends on the boys in blue. Whether they were paid off or not, it wasn’t her fault. Some other boy scout Supe could rescue them. The cat was the most…important…
The cat? Cats don’t usually wander into places like these unbidden. They usually gravitated towards food. Or their owners. Did it somehow slip in here in search of its owner? Was the missing girl here?
Another one to leave for the cops. Cradling the creature in one arm, she pulled out her phone, and started to dial the three magic numbers.
“What the– Hey, someone’s fucked with one of the cages!”
Oh right. The door. This one, she can chalk up to basic incompetence. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” she racked her phone against her head.
“Go check it, then! I’m gettin’ the rest of the guys!”
She shoved the cat and her phone into the hands of the nearest child, indicating with a finger that they should ring the number that had already been entered on the screen. “Don’t worry, I’ll try to get you guys out of here.”
Try was an understatement. She probably could. The public eye on her, however, wouldn’t be a good thing. Ever since that video went live, being noticed was problematic. Getting press now was going to ruin her life even more. As it stood, however, there was no other way out of this than brute force.
She returned to the door, and peered out of the window. Two dark brown eyes stared back. Both she and the man behind the door stared at each other for a second.
She waved to him. “Occupied!” she chirped, and ducked back down under the viewport.
“Who the fuck–” her neighbour started, before he found himself slammed into the wall opposite by the steel door its hinges having been melted away.
Kisara McDowell stepped out of the room that was now illuminated by the light in the hallway, waving the smoke off her left arm. Just in time, too. The welcoming committee had only begun to arrive. Three for now. Not particularly well-equipped. Not this lot, at any rate. Batons and knives. Probably didn't want to bring the whole precinct down on them if gunshots were heard. She could take them.
She wasn't too sold on the idea of crashing her way through this china shop, but at least the day was looking up. Been a while since she worked on the sweet science.
She started forwards, and so did they.
Weave and sidestep left for the downward swing of a baton, follow up with a left hook right to the gut, sending the first straight into the wall. Block the next one’s right swing, grapple, headbutt, send him reeling back into his remaining friend. Push kick, break their forward momentum.
The narrow corridor was aiding her in a sense. Too little space for them to manoeuvre, one body being pushed back resulted in a domino effect. It was still going to start being a losing battle if she didn't keep her own momentum.
She finished the pointman off with a right hook, sending him sprawling onto the ground, and pressed forwards to the next one.
This one wasn't so confident after seeing his other two friends get bodied like that. Easy pickings. She feinted a lunge, causing him to stumble back.
“First time?” She laughed cheerily, as she made more ground towards him.
“Fuck you.” That got him. Horned or no, a good jab to their confidence always made them even more aggressive. He thrust his knife forwards, only to be met with a straight to his abdomen, sending him flying back to the stairwell, and crashing into the barrister.
The wood splintered from the impact. While maintaining the walls and fire safety had been a priority, it would seem like other safety precautions hadn't been taken. Whatever materials and hope held the barrister together crumbled, and the man began to fall back towards the edge.
She ought to just let him fall. It would have been so easy. But that was exactly the problem. She darted forwards, and caught hold of his flailing, outstretched arm that searched for some hope to catch his fall. With a grunt, she pulled him back up to solid ground. She flashed her best smile in reply to his confused expression, before bringing her fists down over him, slamming him onto the floor, unconscious.
She dusted her hands and peered over the edge of the landing. She could still hear movement and some voices, but no other heads popped out to join the trio just yet. She turned and jogged back to the room.
“Alright, time to get out of here, kids. You called the boys in blue yet?” She asked the kid that she had unceremoniously shoved the phone and cat onto.
A quiet nod in reply. Still not in the speaking mood, it looks like. Not a surprise. Too afraid to speak up. Beaten into them to just keep their mouths shut and accept their fate.
As the children started to file out of the room, seeing something else other than the dark and the insides of a van for what could be weeks, Kisara returned to the stairwell, just to see if–
“There he is!”
No time to see who said that, as the entire stairwell was immediately lit up by a fireworks display of ammunition being dumped straight into it. Kisara stumbled back, fell on her ass, and scrambled back to her feet, pushing the children back into their broken cage. “Oh, nonononono nope nope nope, wrong way wrong way!”
Looks like they were finally sick of her, enough to start pulling out ballistics.
“Fuck's going on down there?!”
And it seemed like she also got the attention of the upstairs neighbours too. No way up, no way down. This china shop was definitely not going to survive this bull if it wanted out. She gingerly picked up the steel door that she had removed from its doorway just a moment ago, and patted its occupant on the cheek. No response. Still out cold. Good.
She slammed the door into the concrete floor, propping up a makeshift shield. She had originally wanted to take the safer route. Didn’t think they’d start bringing out actual firearms.
“Alright, new plan, children, out the fire escape. It's gonna be scary, but you're gonna be fine. Just make sure to stay behind me, okay?” Footsteps were starting to both ascend and descend the stairs. “And don't forget the cat,” she added. She offered the kids one more smile. Not very reassuring, but it was the least she could do.
She returned her attention back to the stairwell, and charged forwards, shoving past the still groaning bodies on the ground. Bullets pinging off the steel meant that the cavalry had started to arrive, forcing her to stop about a few more steps before the landing. Not good. She could only hope to hold this gang off while the little ones got out of here. She could take the shooters herself, but that would mean exposing the children to the line of fire without the makeshift shield.
With all this noise and the call put out to the cops, there was bound to be a real hero somewhere that was going to respond. Someone else she could foist this responsibility onto. It was not her kind of game here. There just had to be a boy scout somewhere out there that was hearing, or seeing this.
It was just one whole string of bad luck for this particular job. Rent was due, and the recent debacle with the damned virtual Youtuber had more or less nearly dried up her clientele. She couldn’t keep cruising by with the good detective’s own paycheck. He gave her this new life, and she was sick of drying up his goodwill. Even then, when the woman entered her office bawling a river, she found it difficult to ask for payment. Finding a cat was normally a cheap job, maybe enough to put some food on the table for a fortnight, but the circumstances surrounding it forced her to draw her grubby pink hands off the offer of money. Lady’s kid had gone missing nearly a month ago, and the cops had already more or less given up the search. The missing cat was the last thing she had to remember of her kid. one Taking anything from a vulnerable woman like her would have been kind of shitty. She’d already gone through so much. The videos may call her a monster, and the people could call her a thug and no-good thug. She could be what they wanted her to be, but that would be far too easy. It was always easier to beat sense into mean name-callers, but the last time she went down that route, she ended up slapped with a nice jail term. She could do better. She had to do better.No matter how hard it was to take another step forwards, no matter how much she was pushed, she would never go back to that life ever again.
That said, while it was part of what she did, finding cats was still a hassle. Locating a tabby-ginger somewhere in the Bronx was an ordeal in and of itself. Not to mention the current climate around that damned exposé on her. The video had made its rounds, and not a small number of people had derided her for her relationship with Terrors. Those who were either too much in a booze-induced haze to recognise her or did not bother about her previous affiliations had been of no use either. Most of the actual information she actually got led to dead ends.
Except for one, delivered by a young girl whose mother dragged her away the moment she recognised who her daughter was talking to. She had apparently seen a tabby ginger near an abandoned residential building, its windows boarded up and doors locked. A surprising place for a cat to be, but on closer inspection of the building, it became clearer to the horned detective that it wasn’t as abandoned as it was made out to be. Air-conditioning units hummed by the side of the building, and, more tellingly, the doors were locked. Anywhere else, this place would have been busted wide open on day one.
The next conundrum was how, exactly, she was to enter the building. Breaking into the place seemed like the best option, but it was going to be far more problematic if it really was a residence of some kind. She knocked once or twice, but received no reply. She eventually settled for clawing her way up the walls, digging her fingers into the concrete, and clambering onto the fire escape.
The doors leading to said fire escape were, thankfully, left unlocked. At least whoever was in this place was mindful of fire safety. As she crept into the hallway past the door, it became even clearer that this place was inhabited. The hallways were clean. The walls and lighting were barely maintained, but the floors were kept free of trash and detritus that would usually clog up derelicts like these. But the door to her right didn’t seem right. It was reinforced metal, with a glass window, further reinforced with steel bars. Curiosity having gotten the better of her, she crept up and peered in. The light that managed to get through the glass did little to illuminate the inside. She tried the handle. No luck. Locked as well. She started to get the feeling this wasn’t a place she was supposed to have broken into, a feeling that this place would probably end up with her in big trouble with some big people.
As she continued to look about, voices began to drift up from the stairwell.
“Go and fuckin’ check, dammit.”
“Why’s it gotta be me? You do it!”
“Look, I don’t know who that was knockin’ on the door, but if someone’s sendin’ people here, it’s gotta be either you, me, or one of the products upstairs. You sayin’ it was you? ‘Cuz it sure ain’t me.”
“I get what you’re saying, but why me?”
“Because I said so!” A loud thump, followed by a pained exclamation.
“Alright, alright! Jesus fuck, fuckin’ bossin’ me around.”
Footsteps began to ascend the stairs. She spun around the hallway, confused. Where could she go? Where could she hide? As the seconds to her being discovered grew shorter, she turned to the door, and, her left arm lighting up with energy, punched through the side of it, and barged into the dark room. She shut the door behind her.
As she caught her breath, she started to wonder. Why did she do that? She could have taken a mook or two. Before she could further entertain her thoughts, something moved in the darkness. Many somethings, actually. She was suddenly overcome with the feeling that she was not somewhere she was supposed to be once again. The feeling of many eyes upon her back overwhelmed her, and she resisted the urge to turn and send an array of energy beams behind her.
She took a deep breath, and summoned power to her left arm, and whirled around. The rings around the armored arm lit up dimly, casting some light into the room.
And there, right in front of her, a ginger tabby studied her curiously.
That wasn’t the thing that caught her attention, though. As she raised her hand upwards, spreading the light of her makeshift lantern-arm forth. Rows and rows of bunk beds lined the cramped room. Girls and boys, each no older than maybe 13, sat up right in their beds, looking towards her, the light of her arm reflected in their hopeless eyes.
“Oh.” She said quietly. Unthinking, she bent down and picked up the cat.
This was definitely not on the list of what she had expected to find snooping around here. Well, it probably was, but it was really low on the scale, if she were to ignore all the other telltale signs. She bit her lower lip as the cat she held in her hands decided to do the same to her unarmoured hand. “Could you not?” She whispered to the animal and slapped it gently on the head. It released her finger, and hissed irritably.
With all the supers running around, one would think the crime rate would have gone down at some point. Still, crime paid, very handsomely. There were rich people out there who bought any kind of goods at a high price, some within legal means, and some without. Human lives weren't much different to them. What they did with children like these were better off left unimagined. Terrors had never engaged in activities like these, but they had stumbled into places that operated the same way while crashing through the neighbourhood. Small apartment buildings, like this one, refurbished to house rooms and rooms of people, or children. Kept here to be fed and cleaned, and then shipped off to a catwalk somewhere to show off to the clients. Those that don't get sold off to the highest bidder were eventually put up as cheaper products, either left in a sweatshop or a brothel somewhere.
And from the looks of the eyes on the kids, they knew exactly where they were headed to. Deafening, quiet hopelessness was thick in the air.
She shouldn't play the hero. She was just some schmuck who took a wrong turn somewhere in life, tried to climb out of the pit she drove herself into, and ended up being kicked back down again. She should just call the cops, grab the cat, and get out of here. Whatever happens next depends on the boys in blue. Whether they were paid off or not, it wasn’t her fault. Some other boy scout Supe could rescue them. The cat was the most…important…
The cat? Cats don’t usually wander into places like these unbidden. They usually gravitated towards food. Or their owners. Did it somehow slip in here in search of its owner? Was the missing girl here?
Another one to leave for the cops. Cradling the creature in one arm, she pulled out her phone, and started to dial the three magic numbers.
“What the– Hey, someone’s fucked with one of the cages!”
Oh right. The door. This one, she can chalk up to basic incompetence. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” she racked her phone against her head.
“Go check it, then! I’m gettin’ the rest of the guys!”
She shoved the cat and her phone into the hands of the nearest child, indicating with a finger that they should ring the number that had already been entered on the screen. “Don’t worry, I’ll try to get you guys out of here.”
Try was an understatement. She probably could. The public eye on her, however, wouldn’t be a good thing. Ever since that video went live, being noticed was problematic. Getting press now was going to ruin her life even more. As it stood, however, there was no other way out of this than brute force.
She returned to the door, and peered out of the window. Two dark brown eyes stared back. Both she and the man behind the door stared at each other for a second.
She waved to him. “Occupied!” she chirped, and ducked back down under the viewport.
“Who the fuck–” her neighbour started, before he found himself slammed into the wall opposite by the steel door its hinges having been melted away.
Kisara McDowell stepped out of the room that was now illuminated by the light in the hallway, waving the smoke off her left arm. Just in time, too. The welcoming committee had only begun to arrive. Three for now. Not particularly well-equipped. Not this lot, at any rate. Batons and knives. Probably didn't want to bring the whole precinct down on them if gunshots were heard. She could take them.
She wasn't too sold on the idea of crashing her way through this china shop, but at least the day was looking up. Been a while since she worked on the sweet science.
She started forwards, and so did they.
Weave and sidestep left for the downward swing of a baton, follow up with a left hook right to the gut, sending the first straight into the wall. Block the next one’s right swing, grapple, headbutt, send him reeling back into his remaining friend. Push kick, break their forward momentum.
The narrow corridor was aiding her in a sense. Too little space for them to manoeuvre, one body being pushed back resulted in a domino effect. It was still going to start being a losing battle if she didn't keep her own momentum.
She finished the pointman off with a right hook, sending him sprawling onto the ground, and pressed forwards to the next one.
This one wasn't so confident after seeing his other two friends get bodied like that. Easy pickings. She feinted a lunge, causing him to stumble back.
“First time?” She laughed cheerily, as she made more ground towards him.
“Fuck you.” That got him. Horned or no, a good jab to their confidence always made them even more aggressive. He thrust his knife forwards, only to be met with a straight to his abdomen, sending him flying back to the stairwell, and crashing into the barrister.
The wood splintered from the impact. While maintaining the walls and fire safety had been a priority, it would seem like other safety precautions hadn't been taken. Whatever materials and hope held the barrister together crumbled, and the man began to fall back towards the edge.
She ought to just let him fall. It would have been so easy. But that was exactly the problem. She darted forwards, and caught hold of his flailing, outstretched arm that searched for some hope to catch his fall. With a grunt, she pulled him back up to solid ground. She flashed her best smile in reply to his confused expression, before bringing her fists down over him, slamming him onto the floor, unconscious.
She dusted her hands and peered over the edge of the landing. She could still hear movement and some voices, but no other heads popped out to join the trio just yet. She turned and jogged back to the room.
“Alright, time to get out of here, kids. You called the boys in blue yet?” She asked the kid that she had unceremoniously shoved the phone and cat onto.
A quiet nod in reply. Still not in the speaking mood, it looks like. Not a surprise. Too afraid to speak up. Beaten into them to just keep their mouths shut and accept their fate.
As the children started to file out of the room, seeing something else other than the dark and the insides of a van for what could be weeks, Kisara returned to the stairwell, just to see if–
“There he is!”
No time to see who said that, as the entire stairwell was immediately lit up by a fireworks display of ammunition being dumped straight into it. Kisara stumbled back, fell on her ass, and scrambled back to her feet, pushing the children back into their broken cage. “Oh, nonononono nope nope nope, wrong way wrong way!”
Looks like they were finally sick of her, enough to start pulling out ballistics.
“Fuck's going on down there?!”
And it seemed like she also got the attention of the upstairs neighbours too. No way up, no way down. This china shop was definitely not going to survive this bull if it wanted out. She gingerly picked up the steel door that she had removed from its doorway just a moment ago, and patted its occupant on the cheek. No response. Still out cold. Good.
She slammed the door into the concrete floor, propping up a makeshift shield. She had originally wanted to take the safer route. Didn’t think they’d start bringing out actual firearms.
“Alright, new plan, children, out the fire escape. It's gonna be scary, but you're gonna be fine. Just make sure to stay behind me, okay?” Footsteps were starting to both ascend and descend the stairs. “And don't forget the cat,” she added. She offered the kids one more smile. Not very reassuring, but it was the least she could do.
She returned her attention back to the stairwell, and charged forwards, shoving past the still groaning bodies on the ground. Bullets pinging off the steel meant that the cavalry had started to arrive, forcing her to stop about a few more steps before the landing. Not good. She could only hope to hold this gang off while the little ones got out of here. She could take the shooters herself, but that would mean exposing the children to the line of fire without the makeshift shield.
With all this noise and the call put out to the cops, there was bound to be a real hero somewhere that was going to respond. Someone else she could foist this responsibility onto. It was not her kind of game here. There just had to be a boy scout somewhere out there that was hearing, or seeing this.
SilverFlight
Tende altum, volare altius
Gemini: Prologue - Mag-lev Mayhem
[San Francisco, 10 am. 3 years ago.]
The half known as Teo fidgeted with the watch-like device that controlled their particle projection concealment. It allowed them to both look and feel human.
To anyone watching, the pair of blond young men would be unremarkable in the crowd. Perhaps a little too thin, and they stood a little awkwardly, balancing on their toes at rest. They spoke an odd language, but the city here was diverse enough that no one paid it much mind.
“We are not supposed to be anywhere.” The other half, Tobi, replied. They did not need to speak out loud, but in the low din of the gathering, it was easier. “Not anywhere on this planet at least.”
It had been four days since they crash-landed on Earth, and hiding out was beginning to rub on them both, but Tobi was taking it worse. When they saw the picture of the high-speed, hyper-accelerated mag-lev train on the visual communication devices set about the city, Tobi had insisted they see.
“I want to know what counts as “advanced” in this civilization. It will give us a good idea of how safe we are.”
“Or what powers will be used to capture us once we are discovered.” Teo had always been the cautious half.
The Kilidian army had been ruthless, and both halves knew the toll the loss of their planet had taken on them. The sense of utter powerlessness burned in their hearts, and if this train was just a moment’s escape from that, well, perhaps it was needed.
There was a human standing on a podium on the station’s platform, which glinted one story above where they stood, glittering blue glass and painted steel girders created a modern industrial appearance for the building, which was open on both lateral sides. Sunlight poured through the blue glass roof, casting a cool light over the sleek, bullet-like frame of the high-speed train. The logo of the California transit company was emblazoned on the side. The tracks were pointed North, set to run straight up the coast to Seattle. The train was equipped with an advanced AI unit that could make quantum calculations in the running of the train and was supposedly nigh un-hackable. The human was explaining as much, but Tobi and Teo could find this particular language nowhere in the databanks they rescued during the invasion. They understood nothing. Wherever the broken nav-system has taken them, it was very, very far away from home…
“And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” The well-dressed woman that had been speaking took a pair of scissors from her podium and set them gently over a glittering blue ribbon laid between the train’s open doors. The ribbon was cut, and at the same time, security officers unclipped the rope stanchions barring the crowd, and a cheer rose of as people began to flood up the steps. Tobi and Teo were pushed along, and one grabbed the other, pulling them reluctantly towards the open doors.
A rough hand caught Tobi in the chest. “Ticket please.”
They both stared up at the man blankly. They looked at one another before Tobi stammered out.
“Uh, no English!”
He tried again, and again he was held back, then pushed unceremoniously to the side. Teo followed and observed the man scanning something on the little boxes the humans all seemed to carry.
“It is an authentication system, perhaps there are requirements for boarding the vehicle.”
“But I cannot study the transport technology if I do not get on it.”
Teo glanced at the terse man who had pushed them away. “I do not think he cares.”
Tobi looked at his counterpart with a sly expression. “We could board the transport.”
With their power it would be all too easy. They could walk on board in the blink of an eye and no one would see them.
“It is clearly against the rules.“ Teo replied. “We do not have the authorization to get on.”
Tobi gave his counterpart a miserable expression. “We…do not break rules.” He sighed.
Together they watched as the doors to the train closed, and the gentle hum of the magnetic levitation tech made the train rise, floating above the smooth, rounded track. Then, the train floated forward, gaining momentum at an alarming speed, full of happy passengers, and empty of the two alien refugees.
The news crews covering the first launch of the train slowly began to pack up their equipment. The segments just beginning to air on the video screens around the station.
“Well, I suppose we better go back to the warehouse. Perhaps I can finish the device that will let us tap into their digital system they call “The Enter-net.” Teo turned and started back, only to be stopped short by a scream from a woman nearby.
She had been watching the helicopter feed of the train, smoke erupted from the front of it, covering the picture in roiling black. The train picked up speed.
Even on the video feed, Tobi and Teo could see the warm light emanating from the train’s underbelly. It was overheating, threatening to cook the passengers alive in a metal tube now hurtling close of the speed of sound!
They did not even need to exchange looks. There was only a moment of hesitation from Teo.
“If we do this…they will find us, without question.”
Tobi smiled, “Then we better make a good first impression!”
The people that remained in the station were transfixed by the images on the screens, so no one noticed when two blond men were there, and then, they weren’t.
It took only a split second for their particle projector to switch off, but all anyone could see, was a pair of yellow streaks, hurting down the track after the runaway train.
EdwardDewey98
joshuadim
Last edited:
EdwardDewey98
Professional Argentine
[MAMIMI PROLOGUE]
"Christ," Shadeling muttered as he looked down to the unconscious Mamimi. Sentinel stood in silence, processing what she had just said to him. "Abandoned by man, society, and Gods alike." Shadeling then knelt down to check on her pulse and let out a sigh of relief: "She's alive still."
"I know, I can hear her pulse..." Sentinel replied, moving gently down to carry her in his arms. It was then in that moment that the police had finally arrived on the scene as both he and Shadeling exited, and in turn the officers pulled their weapons out towards Roy. "Shit, it's the supe!" said a female officer, while the male officer put his pistol away and instead drew his taser. "Hands where we can see them, Shadeling!"
Fortunately for him, Shadeling didn't have to say or do much as he let Sentinel's presence do the talking as he floated out of the store and towards the cops. "S-shit, it's Sentinel! What happened?" the male cop then asked, taking a few steps back and lowering his taser.
"This young woman saved the convenience store and its employee from an armed robber. He's been incapacitated and requires medical attention, EMTs are already on the scene. As for her, I'll be taking her someplace safe."
He then nodded his head over to Shadeling, who gave the cops a friendly wave: "My companion has helped me secure the scene. He's under my protection and as such I can't allow you to arrest him officers." Sentinel said with a serious tone, which made both officers exchange concerned and nervous glances. There really wasn't much they could do in the moment, but it was obvious that whoever was in charge wasn't going to be happy with either of them. But they still stepped away, holstering their weapons, and went into the store to secure the scene. The clerk meanwhile stood by the entrance and looked over the damages.
"I'll make sure you get some compensation for your troubles."
The clerk shook his head: "Nah man, it's chill. Company will cover it. I'm just afraid of cleaning up the damn mess." he said with a slight grin, which then vanished when he noticed the robber being taken to an ambulance on a gurney. "Think he'll live through all that?" he then asked, more out of curiosity than sympathy given the trouble he had just gone through because of the robber.
"As she said, she did enough to injure him pretty badly but he'll live." Sentinel said, before looking to Shadeling. "I'll take her up north to get medical attention. Away from the authorities. I'll come for Avery as soon as she's admitted into a hospital... you'll take good care of her, will you?"
"Yeah, don't worry! It'll give me some time to look into her condition further, maybe find some answers - however vague they be." Shadeling replied with a thumbs up. "And yeah, give me a call. I'll be there for the meeting."
Sentinel nodded and gave a smile, before taking another glance to Mamimi; and closely thereafter, he flew into the sky above.
East Bronx, New York City
For St. Barnabas Hospital the night was like any other for its staff, with the ER packed as always with both angry, impatient patients as well as those in need of immediate triage. Looking over the emergency room was Dr. Anna Maria Correa, the director of emergency care whose tired eyes revealed more about her years of work than anything else. Sipping on a cup of coffee as she reviewed another incoming patient file, a drunk driver who was taken in with a pole lodged in his chest; despite the immeasurable pain he was likely in, he still maintained a boisterous and happy singing voice which made Correa wonder if narcotics were involved in this mess. A paramedic walked by with the gurney and nodded to his boss with a smirk: "Can you believe this guy? The pole is the least of his worries, he's almost .35 BAC it's a miracle he's even breathing right now, let alone the pipe in his fuckin' chest!"
Correa took a look over the man for a moment before letting out a sigh: "Wow, and this is somehow the least weird thing I've seen tonight." The paramedic raised an eyebrow, but turned his head to where Correa nodded her head over towards. "A supervillain down in the metro called the Rat King sicced his 'lovelies' on the metro workers. Police called the special unit and tased the guy... he's in bed 19 now."
"No fuckin' way..."
"YOU CAN'T HOLD ME IN HERE FOREVER, I'M THE RAT KING!" shouted a hunched over, small man whose rotundness and stature reminded one of a messed up Danny DeVito; covered in rags and wearing a Burger King crown, he also had several rats clinging on to him much to the dismay of the staff as the room he was in a CDC-sanctioned quarantine due to one of the workers having caught the plague from this event. The Supernatural Events officer standing guard to the sealed off room let out a sigh and shook his head as he heard the rambling from in the room he was watching over.
The paramedic looked back to Anna and chuckled before doing a Catholic sign of the cross and praying to the ceiling: "Dio dammi la forza! Only in fookin' New York." This only caused Anna to turn around and smiled as she sipped on her coffee again, having heard a strong gust of wind his the entrance to the ER, which was something she had been used to by this point in her career.
"Only in New York..." the paramedic repeated again in disbelief as he watched Sentinel enter the ER, to the dismay of other patients and staff as well, with a wounded woman in his arms. Some whispered among themselves, others took photos of the hero holding a woman that he had brought to safety, and many smiled and looked on in admiration as a few tried to get selfies with him - to which he politely declined despite the gall. Sentinel quickly found Anna near the reception desk and approached with a smile on his face.
"Always good to see you Sentinel." said the doctor with smile crossing her face.
"Likewise Doctor Correa." Sentinel replied.
"What do we have here?" she then asked, looking down at Mamimi with concern.
"Jane Doe, as you can see she has powers. Though I doubt she's a "tagged", she saved a store clerk and beat up a criminal pretty badly."
"...could she be dangerous to staff?" Correa asked just as a precaution, but Sentinel shook his head. "She's dangerous, but I doubt she'll harm you or others. She has regenerative powers, but were stopped by the bullet rounds. She's lost a lot of blood too."
Anna nodded before looking to a nurse and snapped her fingers: "Clear up the O.R. for me, get her prepped. Multiple bullet wounds."
Sentinel looked over to the Rat Man's cage and then back to Anna: "I also have a favor to ask... could you make sure tha-"
A finger on his lips silenced him, making him blush slightly as Anna nodded. "Under the books. Got it. Poor girl looks famished, probably on the run or homeless. But if you vouch for her, I trust you and her."
Sentinel smiled, and gave a nod to her. He then placed her on a gurney brought forth by another nurse as a few other attended and began to wheel her off. "It's always good to see you Anna." he then said, looking back to her.
"...still waiting on that date." Anna then said with a wink that made Sentinel fly away with a skip in his step and a blush.
[PANZERFRAU PROLOGUE]
Ever since becoming internationally recognized as a hero, Sentinel has throughout his career met a wide variety of impressive and interesting people in his work. Kaluga and the colorful members of the Red Gaurd were one such case, as well as fighting alongside the mythical Hercules against a legendary elder cyclops that was ravaging the Greek countryside. But this women, Panzerfrau, was in his mind up there in catching his interest and his attention for his newfound desire to build something new. Red Ghast, on the other hand, voiced the only thought in his head.
"Damn, you're hot as fuck." Sentinel couldn't help but sigh aloud in annoyance, which brought out an 'irk' from Red Ghast. "I mean, big tall robot German commie-mommy? Sign me up!~" he continued on, leaning his head onto Panzerfrau's arm and looking up at her. If it weren't for the mask, one could easily tell he was swooning. "I'm into all sorts of kinky stuff like you Germans, just sayin'!"
"Red... can this wait? I'm talking with her-" Sentinel began to say but was quickly cut off.
"Ow, fuck you boy scout! You've cock blocked me more than enough already. Remember when I was trying my magic with the Catrina down in Mexico?"
"She was definitely not interested. She told you so!" Sentinel replied, crossing his arms.
"Only after you and your good boy aura ruined the mood!"
"Look, just give me a few minutes to ask our friend here something important. Then you can do... whatever this is." Sentinel asked with a friendly smile that masked slight exasperation. Red Ghast was definitely among those that tried his infinite patience, but he knew that Red was an ally; an imperfect, murderous, childish one, but an ally nonetheless.
"Fine! I'll go 'secure' some 'evidence', hehe!" Ghast simply said as he ran off to the nearest unconscious goon and began to steal their weapons and ammo for himself.
"Well... sorry about that. Dying as many times as he has, Red Ghast's mental faculties are..." Sentinel said, trailing off as he motioned his arms next to his head in a random motion to accentuate the point.
"Nope! I was always like this!" Ghast shouted as a gunshot resonated in the air. "Oops, sorry! Misfire! Hehe."
"At any rate... I fought alongside your old allies during the Kilidian Invasion. I'll admit I'm not exactly friends with Kaluga. He thinks I'm just another tool of the American Empire to spread western interest eastwards, yaddah yaddah. But he's a good ally to have in a fight." Sentinel then chuckled: "I must say, you had quite the colorful group of friends, always dealing with the strangest things affecting the Union, no?" he said, bringing up reference to the freak mutants and machines created by the somewhat rogue Academy of Sciences as well as the general oddities of the Eurasian continent.
"Now that I think about it, when the invasion happened I did hear of a strange heroine who fought the Kilidians alongside the national guard here in Chicago." Sentinel then said, a grin growing on his face. "Pardon me if I'm assuming but, you fit her description! And that tells me everything I need to know about you - which is to say, you're exactly what I'm looking for."
He then looked over to the unconscious goons surrounding them on the floor nearby. "You work in a clean, efficient way, and show great discipline... qualities I need in a new team I'm making." Red Ghast poked his head out from a nearby office he was rummaging around in like a dog who had just heard the word 'walk' and listened in. "I intend to recruit street heroes, young talent mostly, but I also want to recruit those with more experience like yourself."
He looked over the goons once more and nodded. "I'm sure you're aware of how crime is on the rise, as well as all the monster attacks throughout the country. The American 10 and Wonderful 8 are stretched thin, unable to help every city out there... but it's hard for street heroes to help when the government does everything in its power to stop us." He then snapped his fingers: "But I intend to change that! And thus I would like to extend an invitation to you, Panzerfrau." Sentinel said, offering his hand for a shake that was accompanied with a warm, welcoming smile.
[DERBY PROLOGUE]
"Two Flags for Table 1, Sancocho for Counter 3, Mangú for Counter 7, two Mofongo for Table 6, and 3 Tostones for Table 11" shouted Tyrell's mother as she called out the tickets to an already busy kitchen. "Yes chef!" shouted all of her family - her sons, niece and her fiance, and her husband - as they began to prepare the dishes for expediting. Tyrell was preparing a mash of fried plantain, garlic and pork rind - putting a bit of extra effort to make it seem as though it wasn't a breeze to crush these things and keep his facade up - on a mortar for the Mofongo. The family was efficient and adept at managing the flow of the kitchen, regardless of the many customers pouring in through the doors. No matter how packed the place was, dishes kept coming out at a ready pace to meet the demands of hungry diners. But something was missing as Tyrell quickly noticed, perking his head up and looking around. "Mami, dónde está Hakim?" he asked, noticing that his younger brother was missing once again.
"No se mijo." said his mother with some concern on her face. His cousin Lyanna heard their conversation and shouted: "Hakim? That boy hanging with Jeffrey and Carlos." On hearing those names, Tyrell nearly broke the pestle with his grip but restrained himself. "...the Trinitarios wannabe punks?" he asked.
Lyanna nodded, which made Tyrell's mother throw her hands up in the air. She took off her apron and walked over to the lockers: "Take over for me." she simply said to Lyanna. Tyrell looked down before ringing in the Mofongo. "Two Mofongo for Table 6!" he shouted before looking over to where his mother was. She stood near the lockers, hiding herself from others as best as she could, so as to not show herself silently crying. Tyrell couldn't help but sigh, knowing the pain that this caused her - he looked over to a picture of the family that had been taken when his younger brother Jerquis was born and looked to the face of his older brother: Harden Williams. He then said aloud: "I'm going out for a bit! Watch my covers."
It was his break time anyways, which was understood quietly by the others in the kitchen as his father quickly took over managing his section for the period he would be gone. Outside the restaurant, on the streets of the Bronx, Tyrell grew more frustrated as he paced around the neighborhood. Rather than sulk, he instead turned into an alley and took off his clothes for the suit underneath and flew into the skies as Sentinel: looking for crime to stop or, better yet, looking for signs of his brother.
People watched in awe as Sentinel flew low over the streets of Queens, looking for any criminals or other types of threats, but his interest was caught by the sounds of distant gunfire. Not one to waste time, he changed course and burst himself directly towards the scene - though keeping mindful to not break the sound barrier or disturb anyone's daytime doings below. He wouldn't want to accidentally break a bunch of windows and leave people upset about it even if it was claimable under insurance.
Arriving on scene, he saw how a young man - no older than his early twenties - fought valiantly against another superhuman, one that he recognized as Mauler. Previous run-ins with the likes of him and others on the Job Squad have made him familiar with his presence, though it was obvious that being a Beta level threat meant that he posed no significant threat to Sentinel himself. His concern was more placed towards other superhumans of lower stature and to ordinary folk threatened by his doings.
Yet, this young man fought valiantly against Mauler as they exchanged blows and clashed with each others knuckles. While the young man had a few failings here and there, he defeated Mauler with a powerful blow to the face that ultimately knocked him out - an impressive feat given Mauler was a tough bastard, as shown by him still remaining upright and walking off the hole that he had left in a wall before finally collapsing. It was then that Sentinel approached this young man, whose wide eyes betrayed both awe and uncertainty.
"I thought I knew all the street heroes of New York." said the greatest hero as he looked down at Derby, but quickly descended and offered his hand to help the lad up. "...but I'm always glad to see new faces." A smile crossed his face, one of genuine and inspired confidence rather than any sort of animosity. "I'm Sentinel. I haven't caught your name, but more importantly, are you willing to fight the good fight?"
[BLACK DOVE PROLOGUE]
Sentinel had taken a keen interest in the docks after receiving a tip from another street hero about the Mazolla Crew. A minor mob crew that worked for the other families in the city, but due to the pressure heroes and the police had put on the Italian-American Mafia, the Five Families have been pushed to the shadows or have otherwise operated in the grey-area boundaries of semi-legal business practices. Gone was the golden age of mafiosos, replaced with crooked businesses and dealings in contracts rather than gunfights - not too dissimilar to the yakuza's dealings in Japan. But the Mazolla Crew operated beyond these new boundaries put forth by this status quo, seeking to carve a name for themselves as the potential name-bearers for a new Sixth Family within the criminal underworld.
As Sentinel flew near the docks, he quickly picked up on the sounds of a scuffle which left him to observe from above in quiet contemplation as he watched both Dove and Knight work as a coordinated team. He couldn't exactly put his finger on the woman's presence; he felt as though he knew her, yet couldn't entirely place her through all this. It wasn't in a bad way, but rather it inspired Sentinel to want to know more about her and what she can do. Given the way she carried herself, she seemed both confident and fit for the job - though he wanted to make certain of this. The man was also a new face in town, which to Sentinel added some additional flair to this whole situation.
"So, what's the plan?" he asked as he descended behind the two street heroes once they were on the roof, smiling as he usually did. "I saw how you two handled those smugglers, impressive deal." He landed on the roof and walked towards the duo: "These guys are part of the Mazolla crew, but I'm sure you guys knew that already. I know where they'll be acting next. They were treying to make a deal with the Cutaia crew, not far from here in the parking lot of "Naughty Girls". I wanted to stop the Mazolla crew myself but thanks to you, that doesn't need to be the case anymore!"
He then realized how much he had jumped the gun from his initial excitement, eyes widening for a split moment before chuckling. He silently reprimanded himself as he cleared his throat: "Where are my manners?" Tyrell then said as he offered his hand to Dove. "I'm Sentinel. I'd like to know who you are... and tell me, are you ready to fight the good fight?"
[ZEYNEP PROLOGUE]
New Orleans was known to many as a city of music and art, and that of a semi-exotic metropolitan region compared to the rest of the United States given its cultural and historic background. But some would deem it to be the city of devils, where the magic brought by the French - and later the Haitian Creoles - never left. The truth is that, deep in the swamps and marshes of the bayou, such ancient magics and traditions remain alive and well. The perfect home for a mythical creaturel ike Zeynep. As she walked through the French Quarter, she noticed something - or rather, felt it. For her, it was unmistakably powerful and was lurking close by. She turned, her hat casting a shadow across her visage, and saw a young black boy with a top hat and cane standing in the middle of the street.
A malicious grin crossed his face, but he soon disappeared as a drunk man stumbled passed him. It was as though he had never been there in the first place, which was something the vagrant noticed as he turned around in confusion. But a moment passed as he went about his business, believing himself to be simply seeing things in his inebriated state. But that was something that Zeynep did not have the luxury of blaming, as what she had saw was as real as the air she breathed. She continued down the street, but stopped once more as she saw the boy again - this time flanked by two tall black men wearing fine suits.
These were the Dark Bokors, evil spellcasters, and were joined by an old, frail looking white man wearing a suit of his own as he stood next to the boy with the help of an antiquated cane: "Mr. Din", the boy's butler. But this was no ordinary boy, but rather the criminal kingpin who had created a kingdom for himself. "Bonjour, ma chérie!~" spoke Baron Kriminel with an unnerving happiness. His voice was laced with a thick Haitian accent though was unmistakably speaking the regular metropolitan French.
"Zeynep, Zeynap..." he then said, letting out a series of 'tsks' as he walked towards the vampire. "Tu pensais pouvoir agir contre moi, sans que je m'en aperçoive?" Kriminel asked in a mocking manner, with his hat coming to life as he circled around Zeynep. Its yellow teeth clicked against each other as its eyes bulged out, revealing a tortured figure that held no voice to itself any longer. "C'est ma ville, tu l'as oublié?" He lifted his cane to the vampire's chin and pushed it upwards to face him directly. The Baron had his tentacles in most illegal activities in New Orleans, as well as throughout the entirety of Louisiana and the outlying states.
Only the Midnight Dame, the city's Hero, seemed to be able to cause any damage to his operations; but her presence in the Ten left her scarce in these parts, which allowed the Baron ample breathing room to act as he pleased. Here, in a sense, he was "god"... and "god" got what he wanted lest he let loose his wrath. In this case, he wanted control of Zeynep's establishment, both for money laundering and to sell product such as drugs, prostitutes, or anything illicit. But she knew there was more to it, as there always was with the Baron. He wanted her, but why? She couldn't be sure, but he wanted her to be part of his criminal empire. And one way or another, the Baron would get it regardless of how many people he had to kill.
[KISARA PROLOGUE]
As if a greater power had heeded her thoughts, someone else did arrive onto the scene. And it was not the police nor a random street hero, but someone far greater. When Kisara turned around, she saw the children looking in awe as a widely familiar and inspiring figure floated down the hallway: Sentinel. He smiled to the children, but made sure to look around to understand what was happening and quickly got the idea by the time he had arrived to Kisara and her impromptu shield. The criminals nearby stopped shooting when they saw that the greatest hero had arrived, both out of fear and hesitation.
"You did well. I'll handle the rest." he simply said, turning his gaze over to the goons nearby with narrowed eyes.
"H-hey, hey man! Listen!" shouted one of the enemies as he aimed his rifle at the hero, though it was more for comfort than it was in capability to actually harm him. Sentinel let his feet touch the ground and allowed his footsteps to talk as he slowly advanced forward, letting every thump on the floorboards send terror down the spines of these criminals. "W-we didn't do anything with them, we swear! We just sell them!" shouted the man, trying to rationalize their activities as he continued to point his gun at Sentinel. But it was then that the hero smiled, which gave a moment of relief to the kidnappers.
"You should thank me." said Sentinel, cracking his knuckles.
"W-why?"
"Because, had any other hero found you... you'd be dead on the spot." Sentinel smiled, "I'm not that type of person. I'll just beat some sense into you." His smile kept as he kept slowly walking towards the kidnappers, until he finally had crossed their red line and they opened fire at the hero. As Kisara would duck into cover, Sentinel remained out in the open as he used his speed to his advantage; everything around him seemed slower than it actually was as he moved, showing just how much of a disparity there was between him and these men. The bullets were still flying in the air as he closed in on the first enemy and punched his lights out. He made sure to balance his speed and his strength so that he could get to all of them in rapid succession without killing them, a feat that was easier said than done given where he was in the proverbial food chain.
But he did so in such rapid succession that only a few seconds passed as he passed between the kidnappers - twenty in total - with such intensity that it seemed as though only a few seconds had passed. Goons lay splayed on the ground unconscious, or slumped against the walls, with a few even crashed through nearby fragile walls due to the rotting of the supporting infrastructure. But there was one that remained standing, a woman, who held no weapon on her. Instead, she was nervously clicking her fingers in Sentinel's direction as if desperately trying to light something on fire with a lighter. The hero looked over her with some curiosity, which only made the woman more desperate until she finally got what she wanted.
Sparks flew from her fingers, and a huge flame engulfed where Sentinel stood. Smoke began to fill the hallway as the wood above and below began the char, leaving the kidnapper to look on in surprise before letting out a nervous laugh as she covered her eyes. For a brief moment, she thought she had defeated Sentinel until a punch flew out from the flames and sent her flying through two walls.
Sentinel stood there, flames licking his shoulders like hungry hounds, and took a deep breath as he looked at all the unconscious or wounded criminals. They were all still breathing, much to his relief, but was now concerned about the fact that the faulty fire sprinkler didn't activate. In an old building like this, it was a given that its piping was incapable of meeting safety standards, and as a result the ceiling and floor were not starting to catch fire too. Sentinel quickly looked back to Kisara and the children, giving them a reassuring smile: "Take them outside, I'll be right there in a moment."
Once the heroine and the children had safely evacuated, they watched as Sentinel used his speed to take all the kidnappers out of the building, piling them against one another to their backs right as a police patrol showed up in response to the disturbance. The cops looked at each other first, then at the criminals and the children standing behind Kisara before quickly calling for reinforcements: a fleet of ambulances and the fire department. Meanwhile, with everything secured as the flames inside grew stronger, SEntinel approached the kids to make sure they were alright with some small talk, reassuring them that they would see their parents soon and even pet the cat that was with them.
He then looked over to Kisara and extended his hand: "I'm Sentinel, and I'd like to know who you are." he said with a gentle smile.
[MAMIMI PROLOGUE, cont.]
A week had passed since Mamimi collapsed on the floor of the gas station she had helped protect from a robber. According to Anna, while her body and regenerative powers helped, they were still being pushed to their absolute limits. Days without proper food and rest had taken a toll, even on a superhuman like her, and thus had strained her body to near breaking from the traumatic stresses of gunfire. Now, as a result, she was in a comatose state; Anna knew that she could awaken Mamimi, but decided that it would be best for the young woman to awaken on her own once her body had a chance to heal and recuperate on its own. Since that day, Sentinel visited her each morning - from 10 to 10:30 - sitting by her side and sometimes making small talk.
Today was no different, as he sat by the bed staring at Mamimi with the hopes that today would be different in her condition and that the girl would break out from her much needed state of rest. She did look a bit healthier than before, but given her physiology it was likely that this differed from a normal person's outwardly health. A knock on the door's frame surprised Sentinel as he looked back to see Dr. Correa, smiling as she held two cups of coffee from the machine in the staff room. "Hey." Sentinel muttered awkwardly as the doctor offered a cup, before noticing the kids behind her. "Oh, uh..."
"What did you expect? You've visited every day since you've brought 'Jane' here, eventually someone would tell the kiddos." Anna said as she sipped from her own coffee, cupping it in her hands as a bit of extra warmth. The children were all wearing hospital gowns, and some were without hair - indicative of their oncological treatments. "I don't think talking next to her would be... polite." Sentinel said, but upon seeing their faces he couldn't help but give in as he smiled. He stood up from his seat and made a heroic pose as he approached the kids in a manner that made their faces light up with joy.
"Hello my little friends! I hope you all are doing well!"
Sentinel would humor the children with their many questions, one of which was what his favorite color was, while another focused on superheroes and villains he had met. He joked and played around with their questions, lighting up their imaginations as Anna watched with a smile on her face - before looking over to Mamimi wondering if she was listening in now. Then a young girl with no hair, pale skin, and huge blue eyes raised her hand.
"Yes sweetie?" asked Sentinel.
"Who is she?" the girl asked, pointing towards where Mamimi lay.
"She... she is a hero! A brave young woman who stopped a bad man but got injured while doing so."
Then a boy with big, thick rimmed glasses raised his hand but didn't wait for Sentinel to give him the turn: "She looks like a demon, and dad says demons are evil."
Such a statement made Sentinel chuckle and shake his head. "Nobody should dictate who we are, for we are all different. Some of us are short... some tall... fat, skinny, white, black, purple even! And all matter of different forms and shapes." he said, motioning his head to Mamimi. "But imagine that many years ago, because of the way I look with my skin, I wouldn't be considered a hero. I'd be a ruffian in the eyes of many, or worse, because people dictated that people like me behave a certain way." Sentinel then looked to Mamimi again: "So, she may look like a demon... but she's a hero who saved someone being picked on by someone stronger and with power."
He then turned back to the kids, who were listening intently to the advice being offered to them by such a sagely figure in their presence. "You are all different... and who knows? Maybe you all can be heroes someday." he then finished off his lecture with a small, and left the kids chattering in excitement and joy as a result.
"Alright kiddos, Sentinel has to go save the world in a few minutes. Let's get back to the ward." Anna then said, unfortunately having to break up the fun to give the man some breathing room. The kids were disappointed by this, but all made sure to hug Sentinel on the way out. But before Anna followed, Sentinel spoke up again: "H-hey, uh... Anna... do you... want to... y'know, eat somewhere nice? After your shift?" he asked with a flustered look. This caught Anna by surprise, realizing that he had finally made the bold move to ask her out.
"Huh, thought you'd never ask! I'd love to." she said with a wink before leaving the room.
It was then that Sentinel turned, jumping a little when he noticed Mamimi was awake. "Christ on a bike!" he got out, "Uh... how long have you been awake?"
[GEMINI FLASHBACK]
"México! México! De bronce tu corazón! no hay como sones jarochos cantados con emoción!"
Sentinel smiled as he heard the cooks of his favorite taqueria sing alongside a Mexican radio station, bringing a lively atmosphere to an already lively eatery that was home to great food and greater memories to many of the people in this part of the city. There was something comforting about the way they cooked, much more than the trendy eateries that opened up in the more gentrified regions of the city, that in turn offered a truly authentic Mexican experience in the heart of Los Angeles. He had been here once before when stopping by to stop a chemical depot being taken hostage, and remembered how good the birria was here.
As such, he had ordered himself more birria tacos this time around to enjoy the food as he had before. And just like before, they remained the same in terms of deliciousness. When he was almost done with his dish, he leaned back in his seat and watched the TV to see the news of the inauguration of a new, highly advanced maglev train for California's first high-speed rail-line. An impressive feat of engineering that had cost an inordinate amount of public funds due to continued scheduling issues and developmental hurdles, but it was finally here.
Unfortunately, it also inaugurated to a bad start as the news copters picked up on the smoke and flames coming from it. Sentinel thus burst into action, leaving a hundred dollar bill as a tip as he rushed out the store and flew off from Boyle Heights to make way to San Francisco. This left the cook and owner a bit confused, but were always happy to receive such a generous tip from their most honorable guest.
Once high above the city, he broke the sound barrier as he quickly traveled towards the sight. Coming in low to fly alongside the machine, he took stock of the damage before noticing that right ahead of him were two blurry figures that ran faster than he could fly. Sentinel was confused at first from this, but noticed the blurred colours of their uniforms which in turn made him smile. Pushing himself to his limits, he flew past the speedsters and shouted to them: "HELP THE PASSENGERS!"
He knew that if he abruptly stopped the machine, the inertia impact alone would kill everyone inside. Instead, he decided to press against the nose of the train to slow it down enough so that the twins could safely maneuver around and save everyone onboard.
Lady Moldoma
Professional Sweetypie
[MAMIMI PROLOGUE]
"13 minutes 34 seconds according to the clock over there. Non cumulative." She replied, raising her arm and pointing to a clock on the wall. "This isn't the first time I've been awake while you were here or since the incident in general, I just didn't care to talk to anyone. I didn't have a whole lot to say." She explained to him. It was an odd thing to hear out of anyone's mouth, the concept that, in spite of awakening from a coma in only a few days, they managed to keep it secret that they were no longer sleeping. "I've never been in a hospital, so I didn't know if I was supposed to tell anyone. My parents never got me vaccinated or ever had me treated for anything past the age of about 6. Namely since my mother took to religious and alternative medicine after getting caught into the movement during a particularly troublesome election year." She tells him, closing her eyes again and leaning back.
"Truth be told, I was awake or having strange dreams that weren't particularly unpleasant for most of it, but for nearly a week, I didn't force my body to move. It'd be a waste of energy. That, and even if I tried to talk for most of it, it wouldn’t make much sense, whatever it is that came out of my mouth. I felt pretty out of it."
"I’m sorry about being so angry with you earlier. I was starting to lapse and I get a bit more harsh when im like that. Your friend insisting I was picking on the helpless wasn’t exactly a great introduction. But if I were out there without your intervention, I probably would've walked off out into the forest again, or been apprehended by the authorities, whichever came first. Perhaps there's a version of me somewhere out there with a future different than the one I have now. Probably not dead, but certainly not doing as well, mentally or physically..."
"I suppose I’m trying to say I’m thankful that you saved me from wandering out and getting shot even more. But that kid with the glasses was right, though, If I'm not a demon, I might as well be. It's sure been hammered into my brain that I either am one, or was possessed/replaced by one." She tells sentinel. "I don't want to believe those things, but childhood trauma is frequently a developmentally locked sort of thing for most people." She says.
"That... And healthy humans don't typically have horns." Mamimi reached up and pointed to her left horn, signifying the statement. "I get hurt a lot. The kind of things I go through would kill other people. But I have a distinct desire to live through anything that can't kill me in one go. Death has to be absolute for me to agree to its terms, If there's a chance that I should survive, I will, until I tie up every single loose end and complete every goal I have. that's how I've always seen it." She says.
"I don't know what I'll do then. Maybe just go lie out in the forest somewhere and pass away peacefully." She says
She paused for a few minutes, saying nothing, probably trying to think about what she wanted to discuss, what she wanted to reveal, and how much she wanted to comment on anything else she saw. She didn't really trust anyone here and was ready to get up from the bed and pull herself from the IV if she had to, though she couldn't sense any killing intent, at least, not in this part of the building. There was a very brief moment where she was being transported into the proper wing that she did sense someone who had killing intent, but that it wasn't the kind born out of malicious desire so much as it was mental derangement. They also didn't smell too good.
She didn't know how she started doing that either. The killing intent thing was new. She probably developed it in case her body needed to forcibly wake up, a pre-emptive adaptation from the coma.
Regardless, so far, this was a neutral scenario. She wouldn't benefit from avoiding procedures or efforts to help her, but she wasn’t exactly enthusiastic to be wounded and bedridden for the past week or so.
"I don't know where my powers come from, and I don't know why out of a family of perfectly normal humans I'm the one who has horns, gray skin, a tail, and sharp teeth." She says. "Maybe I am a demon. I don't really care, what matters is that one way or the other, people will end up hating me. So it's not worth talking to them unless I have to."
"I thought I should at least explain myself that much." She tells him. "You wanted to know my name, right? You seem like you actually care. I go by Mamimi Lordgenome. I like how the first part sounds, and the last part is a combination of words I thought sounded neat…“
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SilverFlight
Tende altum, volare altius
Gemini: Prologue - Mag-lev Mayhem
[San Francisco, 10 am. 3 years ago.]
The alien did not even need to think about running. The speed came as easy as breathing; an innate gift that coursed through every muscle fiber in both bodies.
There was only one thought in both minds: reach the train.
Then a shadow appeared over their heads, a figure they'd seen many times on the image screens around town.
"Hey! It's him! The Sentinel!" Tobi shouted, pointing excitedly. He didn't see a sheet of metal come loose from underneath the train, hurtling towards them at a lethal speed.
Teo grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the way.
"Focus!" He snapped.
Sentinel seemed to yell something at them, but neither of them understood what it was.
"I think he wants our help!" Tobi said, still starstruck.
"We need to get aboard!" Teo replied.
The pair hurtled down the track as fast as they could, slowly coming alongside the train as Sentinel began to push against the nose. Tobi darted ahead, then pivoted mid-step. He grabbed Teo's arms and with one fluid motion, hurled him up and overtop of the train.
Teo landed cleanly with both feet and one hand.
"Yeah! superhero landing!" Tobi shouted from below, pumping a fist.
"Focus!" Teo shouted.
He found an access panel and pried it open.
The train gave a frightening shudder as it slowed, Teo was nearly thrown off. He slipped down through the panel and landed roughly on his rump. Wasting no time he ran to the controls and began to examine them.
Meanwhile, Tobi had another way to get on the train. The tracks curved up and around the train in a smooth half-pipe. Tobi ran up the edge of the pipe, using the edge as a springboard to vault up and against the train's side. He hit the smooth wall and began to slide, grabbing onto a metal rail between the engine and the first car.
It took only a little rewiring to open the door. Heat flooded out of the car. It was already so hot inside. His brain raced through his memory to see if he'd learned the average heat tolerance of a human being. He ended up with: not that hot. If they didn't get the passengers to safety soon, they wouldn't need to worry about a crash, because the heat would do the job before then.
Just then he noticed a large box at the start of the car. It had a strange warning sign on it, and Tobi remembered he had seen that symbol before, on a vessel containing a super coolant for another piece of tech he had been admiring.
Tobi broke the glass on the emergency hatchet set into the wall. Using his speed to wear precise holes in the tank, he set the liquid to diffuse down, underneath the train, effectively negating the super-heating that the velocity was creating.
Back in the control room at the front of the train, Teo worked frantically at the computer, trying to override the controls. He could see Sentinel through the windshield, terrifying in his power. If they managed to survive this, they would be completely at his mercy.
An intrusive thought pushed its way to the front of his mind: Hey! Have you figured out the controls yet?
It was Tobi, through their psychic link.
"I have only been studying their computer language for two days!" Teo snapped out loud. "This is difficult!"
He turned back to the controls, at length, managing to access some manner of the systems breakdown. He took in the readout and his eyes widened.
Teo threw himself against the glass of the windshield, waving frantically to get Sentinel's attention.
He began to mime the train, and Sentinel slowing it down, then he balled his fists together and opened his hands in a dramatic imitation of an explosion.
If the engine system was slowed physically, the reactive force would tear the entire train apart in a fiery mass!
TEO!
Teo winced as Tobi's voice flooded into his mind.
"What?!"
There is one of those things in here! The small soft animal that humans keep as a companion! We must save the train!
Tobi's excitement was palpable.
Yes! Then we must pet the animal!
Teo added, equally as excited. In a blink he shook his head to clear it. "No! Focus! We need ideas!"
Tobi looked around. The coolant still leaked out of the tank, cooling the train's underbelly...with a focused stream directed at key points in the couplings, perhaps he could break the passenger cars away from the engine but there was no way he would be strong enough...
Of course! He didn't need to be.
Tobi grabbed the coolant tubes jutting out of the side of the box. He ripped one free and directed the hissing flow of gas at the coupling locks.
The metal groaned as it contracted, but remained stubbornly in place. All it needed was one good, hard shock.
Tobi scrambled up the maintenance ladder to the top of the train. He waved to catch Sentinel's attention. One he had that, he mimed landing a heavy punch straight down on the train's roof, just behind the coupling points.
One good strike from the Omega class super should be enough to uncouple the cars.
Tobi! We have another problem! The engine is coming up on the first station!
So? We will sail right by it!
Yes, but the station is filled with people! If we pass at this speed, the air depression in the wake of the train will be enough to break all their bones!
Sure enough, Teo was right, the station was packed with people, all waiting to catch a glimpse of the new mag-lev, They had only just recieved the warning of the out-of-control train, and security was frantically trying to shuffle people down the staircases off the paltform. Too slow. They would never get all the people clear of the danger before the train reached them...
EdwardDewey98
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Roda the Red
Nitpicker of swords
[DERBY PROLOGUE]
Derby's eyes zig-zagged between the helping hand, and the pristine smile from its owner. His eyes were wide as plates, his mouth half-agape in disbelief. That was Sentinel, that was the guy, the big cheese, the dude you see bootleg figurines of in every bazaar. The boy knew it was a matter of time before him and the legendary hero crossed paths, but quite frankly, he expected it to be something more akin to Sentinel giving the Sunset Cobras a good beating the day Randy finally got a little too big for his breeches and schemed something actually problematic. That would've most likely sent Derby to jail, however, so this was probably the better scenario.
"I-I, I uh, well you know, so-" Amidst his several attempts at forming a coherent sentence, he slowly inched his hand forward towards Sentinel, but at the last moment, he jolted back, remembering his own status as a very-much-not-a-hero. He crabwalk sprinted backwards, hopping on his feet.
"TACTICAL ROLL!" He shouted before performing said action, sneaking into a corner away from the hero's field of view. Several seconds later, the gopher returned to the area, now doning his previous fit once more. Hands in his pockets and whistling with feigned ignorance, he attempted to walk past the bodies, catching a glimpse of the hero from the corner of his eyes. Who was still looking at Derby with the same smile as before. The boy's whistling progressively got slower and slower, eventually coming into a full stop.
...I think he knows
"Fine, fine, ya win."
He walked up to Sentinel, flabberghasted at his ability to see through his completely different look. "I'm Derwent, but it's lame as hell so just call me Derby...AND DON'T GET ANY WEIRD IDEAS!" He gave a toothy mischevious grin, one hand on his hip and the other pointing at himself with his thumb. "I'm no hero! That's stuff for wussy goodie-two-shoes and government ass-lickers, so ya betta' forget whatever you saw here, alright?" Yup, that came out pretty cool, good going! However, Derby then remember that he was talking like a bad guy in front of an Omega-Level protector of justice.
"Uh, please don't beat me up, though." His cocky disposition quickly turned into a thing of the past.
EdwardDewey98
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joshuadim
the writer
AVERY PROLOGUE - August 11, 2024
Back in Shadeling's House...
When Shadeling returned home, he expected to be able to kick up his feet while looking after the girl that Sentinel had practically dropped onto his doorstep. Given the state she was left in earlier it didn't seem as though she would be up to much outside of snacking on his pantry and watching TV to pass the time, which was perfectly okay for Roy even though it meant giving up the last of his Pop-Tarts. But when he entered through the back, having made sure no one noticed his presence from the neighbouring homes, he was greeted with an unusual silence. Gingerly taking steps forward, he walked through the kitchen and peeked into the living room only to see that Avery had in fact left elsewhere. "Oh crap." he muttered as he picked up his pace, darting his gaze around for any sign of her.Back in Shadeling's House...
"Babysitting shouldn't be this stressful." Roy then whispered, pinching the bridge of his nose after taking off his mask. But a conspicuous trail of crumbs clued him in on where she had gone.
"Oh you gotta be kidding me."
The door to his basement was opened! And the crumbs pointed to the culprit being down there, along with the audible walking and rummaging that he could hear. Bounding down the steps to make sure nothing important was broken, he was greeted with the sight of Avery - still wrapped in her blanket - holding a large bag of doritos that she had been ravaging through as she looked throughout his workshop. She blinked twice before chewing on the chips on her mouth so as to get them down before speaking: "Whoa... so, you're Shadeling right?" she asked, and before Roy could answer she bounded to the next question and the one after that as she quickly rushed up to him with wonderment.
"What's this thing? What's that thing? What's this do? Do you make all this?" she asked first of the various gadgets she had picked up and showed to Roy before moving on to the next line of questioning, "How do your powers work? Why do you have so many bags of Funyuns?" She then pulled out her phone and started spamming her camera with a grin on her face: "I gotta tell Sam or she'll never believe me!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, alright hold on now!" Roy finally managed to cut in, putting his hands as if he had pushed the flow to a standstill. "First off, how are you even walking around like this?" he asked, "The magnetizer should've kept you tired for at least a while longer-"
"Oh, I dunno... I just got up and started moving. I feel better, I guess." Avery shrugged before putting another chip in her mouth. "I didn't know superheroes eat so much junk food..."
"Hey not by choice." Roy responded with a chuckle, "Speaking of... how much did you eat?"
"Uuuuuh...."
"You ate all my snacks didn't you."
Avery looked away sheepishly, as though she was guilty of a major crime, but Shadeling chuckled aloud again. "Relax, not like I arrest someone for a high metabolic rate. At least, I imagine that's why you're eating so much."
"Yeah speaking of that... how am I here?"
10 Minutes Later...
Avery sat on the couch, wrapped in the safety of her blanket as she listened to the crash course that Shadeling had to give her as to everything that had occurred which left her both confused and in awe. "And so yeah, the much shorter version of this is that... you're different now. Dunno how exactly but it has to do with that reactor that you got caught up in. And looking at how you're acting now, I imagine that the way you replenish from exhaustion so quickly is due to heightened metabolic processing spurred on by the energies soaked up in your molecular biology. Basically, it's turned up everything to 11 and a bit more than that when your body is stressed." He tried to maintain a cheery demeanour when explaining this, but realized that he was dumping a whole load of information and news onto a kid as she stared at him wide-eyed.
A brief silence filled the room before she finally spoke up with concern: "So... I can... explode again, right?" she asked nervously, shifting where she sat.
"Oh, that... uh, I don't think so. I really do think that was just a one-off." Shadeling tried to reassure her by shaking his head. "I don't think you'll be going around bombing cities."
Avery was quiet for a moment before sighing: "Okay... so, what do I do now? Like... how do I... get used to all this?"
"Honestly? You don't." Roy admitted as he pulled up his chair and sat across from her. Being blunt and honest was better than dressing up the fact that her life was no longer normal. He also didn't want to insult her intelligence by pretending that she wasn't capable of understanding all this, but it still made him shake his head and sigh aloud. "You're a supe now, though we obviously don't know the extent of your abilities by any means. That comes with its perks, that being the obvious of being beyond any normal human being. But there's also the dangers."
"Like... villains?"
"Yeah. Some can try to ruin your life if they're that spiteful... meaning they won't just be after you, but people you care about. It makes any sort of normalcy impossible." Roy knew from experience the kind of pain that came along on that front. "But its not just them either. If the government learns about your existence-" Roy then said, looking over to where he had observed her samples with worry.
"What?" Avery asked with mounting anxiety.
"...let's just say I doubt they would share the same perspective as I or Sentinel do."
The answer didn't need to be said as Avery looked down at her hands again. ...a walking disaster. she thought to herself, her thoughts then trailing to scenarios that she could vividly visualize in her mind. And then she could see Joe's terrified face as he turned to dust... and then imagined an entire city ending up like that. The very thought made her shudder with fear, but Roy quickly spoke up to try to soothe such feelings. "But hey, listen, we'll figure out how these powers work alright? Been meaning on doing some more tests with what equipment I got." he said, pointing over to his makeshift laboratory setup. Avery looked over to where he was pointed, and although it did little to help put her mind at ease it still did help somewhat. Roy then gave a reassuring nod. "I'll also try to help you along the way so you aren't alone on this journey like I was. And I'm sure Sentinel would be more than happy to help too. Together, we'll help you learn how to control it."
It took a moment for Avery to process all this, looking between Roy and her surroundings, before looking back to the hero with a frayed confidence and nodded.
AzaleaWonderland
~☆The Wonderful☆~
Heart pounding like a motor, her mouth filled with the bitter taste of blood, and her feet slammed against the tiled floors of her school's halls as she fled. Gemma's body, exhausted, kept pushing, and the slamming of shoes against the tile echoed like an orchestra's percussion solo. Yet, the only thing Gemma felt was her heart and her fear. The chase felt like forever, an eternal game of cat and mouse. Time, the concept, melted away like clocks in a surrealist painting. All she could do was run, all she could do was chase. Gemma's fuel was running empty, it was only a matter of time before her movements grew more sluggish, and she could feel the hunter closer than ever before. Gemma swung her head around to face her demise. What her eyes captured was a gigantic, golden, ornate-framed mirror reflecting Karma at her. Gemma froze, and the mirror swallowed her whole. Once fully past the mirror, gravity suddenly shifted, and she began falling in the direction she was running from.
Gravity dragged her through the air as her stomach got the same feeling you would on a roller coaster drop, it felt as though she had to scream or be torn apart from the inside. Wind, branches, and leaves whipped against her flesh before she eventually landed in a bush. Karma emerged, bloodied and bruised, now in their crime-fighting outfit, the same one in the reflection. Her silver eyes rapidly scanned the new environment, the sky lacked sunlight on account of its inability to penetrate the sheet of thick, black clouds. The trees that loomed above her appeared as suffering faces gazing back at her. In front of Karma was a neglected, pebbled, dirt path. The constant howls and rustling bushes were enough reason for Karma to hurry down the narrow path. Karma often glanced behind them to confirm the crunching steps she kept hearing were her own. Her footing was then compromised, forcing her to lean on a tree as the earth underneath shook. Karma's eyes glanced up to see a titanic figure made out of shadows towering above the forest, seemingly moving in the same direction. Though, the figure seems like it hasn't noticed her. She felt horribly exposed in this forest and began frantically looking for shelter. Beyond the trees laid a cabin, a safe house amidst the wicked woods.
The door creaked open with a simple push. The floor groaned under weight. Cautiously, she closed the door before turning to her newfound accommodations. Each wall had its own window, peering out into the night. To the left of her was a table and bed. Laying on the table was a newspaper detailing sentinel stopping a heavily armed bank robbery with some backup from a Ten member. Most of the paper was incoherent as its words heavily faded as well as sentinel's picture. Karma took a peak under the table to find a bomb strapped to the bottom. Upon further examination, it looked dormant for the time being, which was good since Karma wasn't sure if she could disarm that one if it started ticking. Karma jumped over a noise at the window, scraping like claws to glass. Nothing looked to be outside, but the window seemed to be decorated with multiple scratches. Somehow, the time bomb feels safer than going out there. As if she needed more reminders, the earth shook with a few more steps of that giant outside. Underneath the bed, she found a large box of items. Tossing the cardboard top aside, she pulled items one at a time. The first was a tank with its flag scratched off and replaced with a peace symbol. A noise from the cabinet behind disrupted her snooping. Stepping slowly towards the cabinet, she prepared herself for what could be inside. With a quick motion, she swung the cabinet open like ripping off a bandaid. A sigh left her as she saw a huge lizard behind the noise disturbance. The animal seemed to have no intention to attack, so she left it chilling. After that scare, Karma went back to the items. There was a wooden framed black feather with a golden label identifying it as a dove feather. Carefully placing the frame on the bed, she pulled out the next few, a paper mask of a three-eyed goat, some stained rollerskates, a t-shirt about area 51, a coin with the same alien markings on both sides, and finally, a doctor's degree. Karma took a second to arrange these odd things neatly on the bed. It was odd, as she looked through this box of random items, she felt slightly nostalgic despite not remembering them. Karma took a step back to appreciate the display. Her eyes widened as she felt her foot trigger a pressure plate, she jumped out of the way as fast as she could as an ancient ornate blade shot out, slashing her cheek and slamming itself into the cabinet. Karma turned around, her heart sinking, the lizard's tail was skewered into the cabinet. As she approached to try and help, the lizard opted to gnaw its tail off. It was grizzly, but Karma supposed it would grow back eventually. Maybe this cabin wasn't as safe as she hoped. But before Karma contemplated whether she should to leave, she saw an item the lizard had been sitting over. She then pulled out the last item, an autograph from Evel Knievel, and put it on the bed. It brought a small smile to her face.
That's when the back window shattered.
A dire wolf growled at her, ready to strike. Karma slammed her way out of the door, as the wolf gave chase. It knocked the door off its hinges into an adjacent tree. After running for a minute, the wolf seemingly disappeared into the darkness, allowing Karma time to think. Smoke is billowing from down the path. A campfire likely means people who can help her. She makes her way towards it, cautious of the beast undoubtedly lurking nearby.
...
After a long trek, Karma reaches the top of a cliffside. An audible gasp escaped her mouth. In front of her was no campfire, smoke was coming from a big city, skyscrapers and all. The city was flooded with a layer of flaming oil spilled atop the water. Buildings had crumbled from the quakes, and several flaming tornados were threatening the few remaining. Among the wreckage stood ten of the gigantic shadow figures she had seen earlier. Their head all twisted to stare into her silver eyes. A shiver ran through her entire body. Then, a single raindrop fell onto her shoulder, the last thing this disaster needed was a lightning storm. Karma careened her head back towards the clouds only to see the enveloping maw of a wolf before it ripped her head off.
~
~
~
Gemma sprung awake, heart beating like a motor. She instantly knew that she had that dream again. Otherwise, she would've sprung for her weapon. Gemma hopes she never faces an enemy with dream powers, she does not want to get psychoanalyzed for that one. Looking at the clock, it appeared to be six pm. There was no chance of her getting back to sleep, so she shoved herself out of bed and into the kitchen. Gemma weighed out the options in her fridge and opted for the leftovers before they went bad. However, she makes a note of the dumpling ingredients, whispering she'd come back for them after work. Turning the stove on, she eyeballed a tablespoon of oil into the pan and let that heat up before carefully scooping the stir-fry leftovers into the pan. As she watched the oil part from the stirring of her wooden spatula, the clacking of the wood floor acted as a warning. Making his grand entrance, the family dog, Tigger trotted over and sat, slightly leaning on Gemma's leg. She smiled at the senior pitbull while scratching his head with her free hand.
A knock from the kitchen archway signaled her father's arrival, "When will 'Head Chef Gemma' be finished with that kitchen?" The man had shoulder-length, slightly messy blue hair with a vivid violet eye and an eyepatch covering the other. He lost that one in a fight before Gemma was born. Tigger moved to get pets from him instead.
"Traitor... and now that you mention it, Right now," Gemma said, scraping the stir-fry onto a plate, and setting the pan down to let the oil cool before washing it. "Will you need that pan for your date night?"
"I will, so you don't need to bother cleaning it. I know you have a busy night shift ahead of you," her dad grinned, "We should have new leftovers in the fridge by the time you get off."
"Are you three having a party without me?" Nahnie, her mom, asked walking into the kitchen. Tigger ran to Nahnie and jumped onto their side for pets. Nahnie bent down and smothered Tigger with adoration, smushing his face like playdough.
"Traitor..." Hao, her dad, muttered at Tigger for leaving him.
"Don't be like that. You know that Tigger loves you too! Just like how I love you," Nahnie leaned over and kissed Hao on the cheek.
Hao pulled her in for a head and nuzzled into her, "I love you too."
"I see date nights already starting. I'll get out of the way for you lovebirds," Gemma started to her room.
"Okay, have a good night, honey. Just be careful with driving in the dark, okay? There are some awful people out there," Nahnie warned.
"... I know, I'll be careful," Gemma nodded before returning to her room.
Once back, she set her plate on the table and retrieved her wireless headphones from her desk, playing some personal tunes to her dinner to compliment the symphony of flavors she could count on with her father's cooking.
This food always felt like straight dopamine, its flavors compliment the texture and add a complexity to the dish that Gemma could pick apart for hours. Gemma ate while bobbing her head to the tunes. Once finished, the plate was set onto another surface. Gemma went to her desk and started clicking the button under her desk in a series of short and long presses. Once the code was entered, the false top of the desk popped off and revealed her secret desk, which was currently mapping the movements of a group of hunters. It listed eight suspects along with their current location. Several people in the Bay Area have gone missing after making contact with one of these eight. After investigating for a month, she's tracked their position to an island about an hour from the shore. From the information she's gathered, most of the victims are offered a lavish stay on their private island, only to go missing. The police investigation is stalled by the bribes of the millionaires running this thing. So, Karma's decided she'll give it a good kickstart, she's already planted all the breadcrumbs, and all that is left is for the police to follow them or be forced to follow them. The evidence the police should find should be more damning than seeing them murder in broad daylight. Enough review, Karma has a ride to catch.
With a quick outfit change and home behind her, Karma booted up her moped kickstand, revving the motor before riding to the pier. The road and its buildings flew past her. She recognized a few tags of her on her way down too, though a handful seem to have been painted over since she made them. The impermanence of it all is one of the things she loves about graffiti. Beautiful things sticking around forever would become dull eventually. With a flip of the kickstand, she parked the moped at a restaurant near the pier and walked down to where she'd arranged the jetski rental to ride to the island.
As the jetski shot through the water, Karma watched the moon's reflection dance across the water. It was a beautiful night and one she'd wish she could enjoy. However, she can't stand by while people keep disappearing.
Their sick game shouldn't start till after nine. There's plenty of time.
.
.
.
~~The grandfather clock ticked onto 8:30 pm. The extravagant host of this grand dinner party takes a fork to his glass, signaling an announcement.~~
The digital clock on her phone shifted to 9:00 pm. The hooded vigilante stood up lifting her weapon from the tree it rested upon. She clicked a button, causing it to unfold into a scythe, signaling the end of this charade.
~~The host started, "I hope you all enjoyed the luxurious feast I prepared for this month's meeting. My chefs worked themselves to the bone to prepare something suited for the refined palates at this table. I'm happy to see it was to everyone's liking," the host smiles, looking at the emptied plates along their velvet clothes table. They reached down and picked up one of their steak knives. "Now, next on the agenda is a fun night hunt. Follow me to the garden, and I'll explain more."~~
The grass crumpled under the hunter's boots, and jokes about who could catch the most game by the end of the night were shared between them. A sound from the bushes alerted the two up front, they paused and aimed their guns, licking their lips in anticipation of the kill. The third one then saw some strange movement from behind, he walked close before tripping over some rope strung in the grass. He mumbled a curse word under his breath. There was a sound of rope burning against bark before the log slammed into him, a trap. The two swung their heads back to see their companion unconscious. "Nick! What happened!" one tried calling out. In their peripherals, they could see a boot slamming into the head of the hunter next to them. They quickly turned their gun to the girl, but before he could even get his finger on the trigger, her scythe caught the barrel, flinging it into the air. The hunter scrambled for their knife, in that time, Karma's stance changed, backswinging the scythe down and slamming the blunt end into the hunter's head. She held her hand up, catching the rifle right as their body hit the ground. Jamming it, she tossed it aside and looked down on the unconscious group, silver eyes filled with scorn, "You make me sick."
~~The master of the manor went around handing the guests a survival knife and half of them rifles. One guest spoke up, "What gives? Didn't have enough money to buy us all rifles?" The others without rifles laughed at the jab. The host gave a fake laugh.
"Very funny. But no, I got enough for every hunter," at that moment, the host snapped their fingers. Everyone with a rifle pointed theirs at the ones without. A sinister grin crept onto the host's face, "You see, anyone without is nothing but prey. You have thirty minutes to run."~~
"You see any of them, Angela?" one of the hunters asked his partner.
"No... if only the host let me do my favorite technique of smoking them out," she sighed, "What a buzzkill."
"I think it might be a good thing they didn't allow you to burn the forest we are surrounded by," he retorted.
"I didn't know you were suicidal, Buzz," Angela snickered, "I'm always here if you need me."
"Hardy har har," Buzz rolled his eyes, obviously hearing that joke for the tenth time. He stomped forward ahead of her. Angela heard a clank and stopped to investigate. Buzz soon realized she was missing. He retraced his steps to see where he must have lost her. To his surprise, there were new tracks of boots he didn't recognize. The man readied his rifle and cautiously followed tracks to a nearby bush. With his gun pointed, he parted the foliage only to see Angela's unconscious body. What he didn't see was the hooded figure towering behind him, scythe in the air, then it was lights out.
~~"Honestly, the look on their faces when we tell them that we're hunting them gets me every time!" Angela laughed.
"I must agree. The fear is so delectable. However, I must say my favorite reaction has to be when the prey knows they're about to die. Have I shown you all the pictures developed from last month's hunt? We can chat about it over some dessert till the clock strikes nine," the host beckoned the hunters inside, taking a moment to stare off into the woods with a grin before joining them.~~
Another pair of hunters were stalking through the woods. Though these were more serious about getting the most. They moved quietly, and effectively. Their stakeout points were well coordinated. But the one flaw in their movements was that they were looking for hiding spots, not spots they could be ambushed from. A gunshot, took the first one by surprise, red mist sprayed out with each hit as two more of the bullets hit them. Their partners collapsed to the ground. The woman left standing aimed her gun towards the bullet's origin just in time to see something flying out at her. She was too trigger-happy, shooting the canister and unleashing a large cloud of purple smoke. From the smoke, Karma dashed out, slamming the top of her scythe into her gut and pulling the trigger. It looked like the hunter would pass out, her pupils retreated but she stood strong. The hunter pushed the scythe aside and tried aiming her gun but Karma kicked it away. Just as that happened the hunter's knife slashed Karma's side from the left. Karma decided not to dodge. She stabilized her footing and sliced the woman's Achilles tendon, causing her to fall. Once down, Karma swiftly spun to reposition the head of her scythe to empty her clip into the woman's gut. Finally, she went down. Karma tossed the empty clip and slammed a new one in. These specialty plastic bullets have to be the best things she's invented. "Seven down, one to go."
~~With a chim from the clock, the time had come, 9:00 pm. "Finally!" One woman shouted, "Come on, we're going to win that prize this month." she nodded to her compatriot as they left, eager to hunt.
"That's the spirit. Remember to collect your prey's left ear when you bag them. Don't get your hopes too high. After all, I never lose," The host laughed, "Let the hunt begin!"~~
The host has their sights lined up just fifteen minutes into the game. Before they could pull the trigger, a sudden burst of black mist blocked their line of sight and scared the prey off. "Tch, what the hell," the host grumbled. Was one of the competitors sabotaging them? There were no rules against it, but it was still pretty cheap. The host swung their gun behind them, hearing movement. They started backing up. The host could feel something was wrong now. They'd been too focused tracking to realize it. They them lost their footing, having to catch themselves on a tree to avoid falling. Looking down, they could see what had tripped them up, a unconcious hunter next to a dismantled rifle. They frantically scan around, seeing another two, one laying against a tree and another unconcious under a log trap. Another sound made them flinch. "Who are you! What do you want?!"
The only answers to the hosts questions were owls hoots and crickets songs. They stood paralyzed for a moment before dashing back to the mansion. There's a safehouse, if they can get to it, they'll be safe. They could taste iron in their mouth as they continue past their limit, their heart sprinting like a race horse. Their boots slammed against the ground, echoing off the trees like shots in the dark. Yet, in their haste, they tripped over another obstacle, a random rope strung around the forest. The sound of rope burning against bark gave them barely enough time to jump out of the way. After a moment, they stood back up. The host looked back at where they were running, seeing no one assumed they must've lost them... for now. They turned to continue their path to the mansion and...
{Art drawn by Thatnerdyovenne retrieved from HERE}
Before them was a girl clad in red hood over her black outfit. Her silver eye filled with disdain for the host. Her scythe ready to cut them down before the full moon behind her. It was over. A loud scream filled the forest, scaring birds into flight and critters into hiding.
Once Gemma finished tying them all together in a neat present for the pigs, she considered what she'd do for the rest of the night. She'd get back to shore around 10:40 pm. Her parents would probably still be awake around then, and she did say her shift ended around 4 am. So, that's five hours of spare time. Thinking back to her drive, she did see some good places to tag. Doing some graffiti should kill some time. Gemma did a lonnnnng stretch. "Owch!" she recoiled as she felt her wound burning up as adrenaline started to dissipate. In the mission, she didn't have time to tend to it. She ripped some sheets from the curtains and used them to stall the bleeding. Once back at their moped, they can use their first aid kit. She made sure the police will be there in an hour, so she better skadaddle off the island by the time they arrive. Unless she wanted to be arrested. But as she was making her way to leave, something felt off. Karma put a hand over her weapon and turned her gaze to the sky. A name exited her mouth purely on instinct, "Sentinel..?"
AriAriAbabwa
Don't lose Ari~♪ Shine bright Ari~♪
Baron Kriminel was a name long familiar to her lips. An eventuality given that she had to operate in "his" territory as long as she did. And as he played mind games, moving from sight lines to sight lines to keep her surrounded, Zeynep felt a twinge of both disappointment and pleasure. Having someone share the same time and history as her was beyond rare. She smiled to the French tongue he wielded, a language she picked up just by length of residence. Though she did not appreciate the cane gesture, reciprocated by her shoving it away from her chin. "Bonjour, mon chéri ~" (Hello, my darling.) she spoke, tone dripping with honey. "Si vous m'aviez informé d'une visite, nous nous serions peut-être rencontrés dans des logements bien plus agréables." (If you had informed me of a visit, we might have met in much nicer accommodations.)
Zeynep has met his kind before. The ones who want their grubby hands on everything: a powerful greed that drove them to fantastical heights. But as she has seen countless times before, there is only a sharp decline that comes after. And the empires they built become nothing but school lessons. It's the reason why she never sought the same things as he; one small place to have fun was more than enough.
She smirked at the Baron, crossing her arms as though pressed impatiently by the mooks. "Au contraire, je vous rends service. En éliminant vos pions inefficaces, j'aide votre royaume à durer plus longtemps. Qu'est-ce que c'est, un mois de plus ajouté au sort du royaume qui s'effondre en cendres?" (On the contrary, I am doing you a favor. By eliminating your ineffective pawns, I help your kingdom last longer. What is this, another month added to the fate of the kingdom collapsing into ashes?) Zeynep widened her arms, slowly spinning around in the night lights dotting the street, turning her fanged grin to the sky. "Les empires naissent et tombent. L’Empire ottoman n’est qu’un nom lentement oublié. Considérez-vous chanceux; par rapport à mon club, le vôtre fera au moins les manuels." (Empires rise and fall. The Ottoman Empire is just a slowly forgotten name. Consider yourself lucky; compared to my club, yours will at least make the textbooks.)
Zeynep pulled out a red handkerchief, using it to blot her lips where a few drops of blood remained. "So to answer your question. No. I remember you—have for centuries. But I do not care. Because, by the end of it all, I will live to see your gang fade away into nothing." Her eyes honed in on Baron Kriminel, osciliating until sharp like a wolf. "Are you satisfied, Baron?"
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simj26
Awful, Terrible, No-good Layabout
Kisara McDowell
The boys in blue, yellow, and black were all here. The boy scout was handling things inside. This was no longer her scene. This was now within the purview of real heroes, both the uniforms and Sentinel. Her job was done, the cat was safe, and the kid too, probably. Now in the view of the public, she was in no place to talk to any of them any more. She just needed some information from the uniforms, send them over to her client, and she was out of here. Large scale rescues like these, they might be shipped off to different hospitals. Where the cat went, she wasn’t entirely sure either. Better to check with the uniforms.
She gathered what she could from the attending officers. They were, thankfully, helpful after she explained her reasoning. The cat was going to follow the kids to the hospital. Monitoring and mental assessment, they said. The kids needed that. Even now, as the paramedics tended to them, they shied away from touch reflexively, and seemed unable to adjust to the sun. Whatever. They needed time to gather all this. Maybe send in more transportation. Either way, she just needed to deliver the information to the client, and she’d be out of their hair.
She pulled out her phone, scratched, dented, and cracked throughout, and began to type in a message for the distraught mother. Engrossed with her job, she didn’t notice Sentinel approaching her as she worked her one hand across the damaged screen, up until he extended a hand towards her. She followed the hand quizzically, up towards its owner, then stifled a cry of surprise. She blinked, glanced over at the building and the pile of goons, then suppressed every inch of her body that was ready to fangirl over the fact that she was standing right in front of one of the greatest heroes to walk this earth.
Eyes were starting to look over here. She drew her hood over her head, her horns carving more divots into the fabric. “Ahh, name's not important,” she waved him off casually. “So long as the kids are alright, and my client's happy, I’m good.”
“That said, I do have to try and expand my business. Kisara McDowell, private eye. If you’ve got cats to find, or a boyfriend you think’s going behind your back, call on…” she reached into her jacket, and retrieved a namecard, “Gyoshi Detective Agency. Prices negotiable.” She grinned cheerily, pressing the namecard into Sentinel’s hand.
She wasn’t going to shake his hand. Not here. Not now. Too many people have suffered from the mistakes of her past. Too many doubted, too many spurned, just because they shared a smile or a drink together. “You can handle the spotlight, right? I’ve had my fill for a lifetime. Don't think the people really liked it.”
She glanced behind the superhero, to all the faces in awe and adoration as they gazed upon the man’s form. For just a single second, a spark of envy and jealousy shone in her eyes. A momentary scream of frustration and hate, not aimed towards the people, not aimed at the hero in front of her, but aimed inwards. To see this much love showered upon a man like this made her hate herself even more.
She pushed those feelings down. She’ll keep moving forwards the only way she knew how- her own way. One step at a time, one day after the other. She’ll be fine. “Anyway, spread the word, big man.” She slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Counting on you to boost my business.”
EdwardDewey98
The boys in blue, yellow, and black were all here. The boy scout was handling things inside. This was no longer her scene. This was now within the purview of real heroes, both the uniforms and Sentinel. Her job was done, the cat was safe, and the kid too, probably. Now in the view of the public, she was in no place to talk to any of them any more. She just needed some information from the uniforms, send them over to her client, and she was out of here. Large scale rescues like these, they might be shipped off to different hospitals. Where the cat went, she wasn’t entirely sure either. Better to check with the uniforms.She gathered what she could from the attending officers. They were, thankfully, helpful after she explained her reasoning. The cat was going to follow the kids to the hospital. Monitoring and mental assessment, they said. The kids needed that. Even now, as the paramedics tended to them, they shied away from touch reflexively, and seemed unable to adjust to the sun. Whatever. They needed time to gather all this. Maybe send in more transportation. Either way, she just needed to deliver the information to the client, and she’d be out of their hair.
She pulled out her phone, scratched, dented, and cracked throughout, and began to type in a message for the distraught mother. Engrossed with her job, she didn’t notice Sentinel approaching her as she worked her one hand across the damaged screen, up until he extended a hand towards her. She followed the hand quizzically, up towards its owner, then stifled a cry of surprise. She blinked, glanced over at the building and the pile of goons, then suppressed every inch of her body that was ready to fangirl over the fact that she was standing right in front of one of the greatest heroes to walk this earth.
Eyes were starting to look over here. She drew her hood over her head, her horns carving more divots into the fabric. “Ahh, name's not important,” she waved him off casually. “So long as the kids are alright, and my client's happy, I’m good.”
“That said, I do have to try and expand my business. Kisara McDowell, private eye. If you’ve got cats to find, or a boyfriend you think’s going behind your back, call on…” she reached into her jacket, and retrieved a namecard, “Gyoshi Detective Agency. Prices negotiable.” She grinned cheerily, pressing the namecard into Sentinel’s hand.
She wasn’t going to shake his hand. Not here. Not now. Too many people have suffered from the mistakes of her past. Too many doubted, too many spurned, just because they shared a smile or a drink together. “You can handle the spotlight, right? I’ve had my fill for a lifetime. Don't think the people really liked it.”
She glanced behind the superhero, to all the faces in awe and adoration as they gazed upon the man’s form. For just a single second, a spark of envy and jealousy shone in her eyes. A momentary scream of frustration and hate, not aimed towards the people, not aimed at the hero in front of her, but aimed inwards. To see this much love showered upon a man like this made her hate herself even more.
She pushed those feelings down. She’ll keep moving forwards the only way she knew how- her own way. One step at a time, one day after the other. She’ll be fine. “Anyway, spread the word, big man.” She slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Counting on you to boost my business.”
EdwardDewey98
dikdik
colossal leaf and prince of the universe
Odie, Odie, Odie, what the hell are you doing?!
The absolute blaring of an alarm clock smacked right into eardrums not quite prepared to wake up. It was edging on 3pm. This was the back-up to the back-up alarm and now Otis wouldn’t have nearly enough time to run to the grocery store, get home, put away the groceries, eat something, go to the bar, have a drink or multiple, then prep his set. It was just too much! But apparently so was last night considering he was awake until 4am and was just now stirring…
But here he was, flailing about in anxiety, the shades of his potential futures becoming just visible in the chaos, choosing different pairs of pants, one of them fizzling out as it edged closer to the door to stride out in its gray sweatpants. That guy had the right idea. Otis snatched his wallet, phone, keys and strode to the door, almost forgetting to slip a pair of sneakers on and grab a reusable grocery bag on the way out. Gotta do what you can for the environment, nowadays!
Sticking one earbud into his ear and blasting his new favorite album on loop on the walk to the grocery store on a day so bright and sunny was the perfect way to spend his first twenty minutes of being awake. Half-skipping, Otis ended up at the grocery a bit sooner than expected. All the better, since he was starkly under-caffeinated, hungry, and the victim of oversleeping. He picked up a few random items he supposed he might be interested in cooking at some point this weekend and topped off the purchase with a pre-packaged coffee, caramel of course, and a deli sandwich that he planned to munch on the walk, skip, back home.
It was walking, not skipping, this time around. The heavy bag’s handles sinking into his shoulder set him just off balance enough to prefer walking, especially since the tuna salad sandwich wasn’t going to eat itself. By the time he scuffled up the stairs of his apartment, fumbled with unlocking the door while holding an open drink and heavy grocery bag, the sandwich was gone and so was his will to go about the rest of his day. He was so inextricably exhausted from the night before. Two sets, two nights in a row at two different bars? Sure, it was a nice move for his career, but his tired brain, and liver, weren’t all that forgiving when he was up until the wee hours of the morning. But his career? It was a special kind of exhausting. A different kind.
With a deep sigh, music still playing right into his ear, he ignored the thought once again, knowing it’d just keep swelling up at him until he addressed it and did something about it. For now, especially since it was about 4pm and he had to be at the bar in an hour, he just brushed his hair back towards his ears, both hands tugging through its slight tangles, and chose to forget it for now. He had a slew of jokes on deck in his brain that he’d be performing later and he started flipping through them, walking about the apartment, subvocalizing and occasionally pausing, just to get the timing right before he had to remember everything within a slight panic later today.
And just like that, it was later today! Otis rubbed his eyes, slurped down the rest of the coffee, switched into a pair of black jeans and his disco t-shirt, gleaming in all its sequined might. Soon enough, he was bounding down the stairs again, phone, wallet, keys, all the versions of himself hovering and slithering about silently accounted for. It was always show nights that made them worse! And how borderline useless they were most of the time… Unless they helped him choose what entree at a restaurant he’d like most… Or what outfit to wear… And occasionally they’d keep him from getting smushed by a cyclist or a box truck while speed-walking through the city. But speed walking he was. The sun was setting past tall buildings as street lights illuminated and Otis’ pace quickened, forgetting the earbud was in his ear until a song suddenly crescendoed as the album came to a close and was replaced with silence. Well, whatever silence you could achieve walking through the city right after rush hour.
The chaos of the city as the sun fell sent a few shades out in front of him, one hopping over a puddle on the sidewalk, another loitering in front of a convenience store window peering inside at the snack section, the last throwing away a piece of trash he’d forgotten was in his pocket. None of them useful, all of them just transparent enough to see what was on the other side. Otis pondered just a moment about what it might be like if they weren’t sort of transparent. Maybe they’d frighten him a bit more, or blend in a little more effectively with the actual people around him. Halfway to the bar, he was! He’d get there just a few minutes after he planned, though still with plenty of time to have a drink or several before needing to test the mic and run through his set one more time while hiding in the bathroom, letting the shades stand watch and tell him if he’d need to shut up or move. Didn’t want to wait around too long in there.
Otis was approaching an intersection that held two of the main arteries lazily curving throughout the city. A bustling street market was in a park in the shadow of a building by the intersection. It was the most annoying intersection on the walk to the bar! Always so busy with never enough time on the crosswalk sign to make it without speed walking. Suddenly, one of the shades multiplied into a few more, all on edge and startled while on the sidewalk. Otis watched as one shade cowered towards a building, one dashed inside a door, one found a cyclist and shoved. Hairs stood up on the back of his neck and a grumbling hum vibrated through the earth below. Without thinking, without hesitation for perhaps the first time in his life, Otis followed the shade shoving the cyclist. He pushed with his entire body engaged and tense, she flew with a scream to the ground in the middle of the street, he stumbled forward and ended up landing right over her on his hands and knees just in time for a massive black SUV to bulldoze through her bicycle- Shades scattering, one ended up under the vehicle right and puffed into mist, one hovering over the cyclist asking if she was alright, one slide a phone out of its pocket and called for help, one screaming at the crowd to disperse and that’s the one he followed. Otis found a volume he didn’t know he was capable of and screeched at the top of his lungs for the crowd to run. And they did! It worked! They scattered, the SUV careened onto its side, he leapt towards it, following a shade to the driver’s side door, now facing the sky. The shade climbed to the door and opened it, so did Otis. He found an unconscious older man dangling, airbags having failed. Otis was acting with the shade now, aware of his actions’ consequences before he did them, other shades running around screaming, calling 911, checking the cyclist- “Someone call an ambulance and help me get this guy out of the car!”
And someone did! Otis and a few other bystanders, those with calm, not those scrambling around with shades in panicked, arrhythmic steps. Thank fuck he had some semblance of medical emergency response training from that time he was wholly convinced he could handle being an EMT (he couldn’t). He and bystanders extracted the man, carrying him away from the vehicle that was now smoking with sirens blaring in the distance, blocked by gridlock and honking horns. Laying him flat on the sidewalk, Otis checked for breathing, circulation, or any obvious signs of life. There were none. Chest compressions it was, then! A shade did them alongside Otis, another was on the phone with his friend Caroline and crying, another was screaming at the old man to wake up, one was sprinting towards the bar before getting about 50 feet away and puffing into fog.
Heart pounding in his throat, his mouth distinctly dry and his core and arms stiff and sore from repeated motion, Otis continued his attempt to resuscitate the man until paramedics arrived and took over the scene, having to pull him away from the crash victim as his brain was so caught in a loop of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10– that it felt impossible to stop. He felt strangely at ease, calm though he had just witnessed a horrific accident and perhaps saved two people. He saved two people? He saved two people? Acting in tandem with the shade threw him into a state of flow- with no hesitation. It was the most free and most afraid he’d ever felt, funneling the fear into action. Without thought?
The absolute blaring of an alarm clock smacked right into eardrums not quite prepared to wake up. It was edging on 3pm. This was the back-up to the back-up alarm and now Otis wouldn’t have nearly enough time to run to the grocery store, get home, put away the groceries, eat something, go to the bar, have a drink or multiple, then prep his set. It was just too much! But apparently so was last night considering he was awake until 4am and was just now stirring…
But here he was, flailing about in anxiety, the shades of his potential futures becoming just visible in the chaos, choosing different pairs of pants, one of them fizzling out as it edged closer to the door to stride out in its gray sweatpants. That guy had the right idea. Otis snatched his wallet, phone, keys and strode to the door, almost forgetting to slip a pair of sneakers on and grab a reusable grocery bag on the way out. Gotta do what you can for the environment, nowadays!
Sticking one earbud into his ear and blasting his new favorite album on loop on the walk to the grocery store on a day so bright and sunny was the perfect way to spend his first twenty minutes of being awake. Half-skipping, Otis ended up at the grocery a bit sooner than expected. All the better, since he was starkly under-caffeinated, hungry, and the victim of oversleeping. He picked up a few random items he supposed he might be interested in cooking at some point this weekend and topped off the purchase with a pre-packaged coffee, caramel of course, and a deli sandwich that he planned to munch on the walk, skip, back home.
It was walking, not skipping, this time around. The heavy bag’s handles sinking into his shoulder set him just off balance enough to prefer walking, especially since the tuna salad sandwich wasn’t going to eat itself. By the time he scuffled up the stairs of his apartment, fumbled with unlocking the door while holding an open drink and heavy grocery bag, the sandwich was gone and so was his will to go about the rest of his day. He was so inextricably exhausted from the night before. Two sets, two nights in a row at two different bars? Sure, it was a nice move for his career, but his tired brain, and liver, weren’t all that forgiving when he was up until the wee hours of the morning. But his career? It was a special kind of exhausting. A different kind.
With a deep sigh, music still playing right into his ear, he ignored the thought once again, knowing it’d just keep swelling up at him until he addressed it and did something about it. For now, especially since it was about 4pm and he had to be at the bar in an hour, he just brushed his hair back towards his ears, both hands tugging through its slight tangles, and chose to forget it for now. He had a slew of jokes on deck in his brain that he’d be performing later and he started flipping through them, walking about the apartment, subvocalizing and occasionally pausing, just to get the timing right before he had to remember everything within a slight panic later today.
And just like that, it was later today! Otis rubbed his eyes, slurped down the rest of the coffee, switched into a pair of black jeans and his disco t-shirt, gleaming in all its sequined might. Soon enough, he was bounding down the stairs again, phone, wallet, keys, all the versions of himself hovering and slithering about silently accounted for. It was always show nights that made them worse! And how borderline useless they were most of the time… Unless they helped him choose what entree at a restaurant he’d like most… Or what outfit to wear… And occasionally they’d keep him from getting smushed by a cyclist or a box truck while speed-walking through the city. But speed walking he was. The sun was setting past tall buildings as street lights illuminated and Otis’ pace quickened, forgetting the earbud was in his ear until a song suddenly crescendoed as the album came to a close and was replaced with silence. Well, whatever silence you could achieve walking through the city right after rush hour.
The chaos of the city as the sun fell sent a few shades out in front of him, one hopping over a puddle on the sidewalk, another loitering in front of a convenience store window peering inside at the snack section, the last throwing away a piece of trash he’d forgotten was in his pocket. None of them useful, all of them just transparent enough to see what was on the other side. Otis pondered just a moment about what it might be like if they weren’t sort of transparent. Maybe they’d frighten him a bit more, or blend in a little more effectively with the actual people around him. Halfway to the bar, he was! He’d get there just a few minutes after he planned, though still with plenty of time to have a drink or several before needing to test the mic and run through his set one more time while hiding in the bathroom, letting the shades stand watch and tell him if he’d need to shut up or move. Didn’t want to wait around too long in there.
Otis was approaching an intersection that held two of the main arteries lazily curving throughout the city. A bustling street market was in a park in the shadow of a building by the intersection. It was the most annoying intersection on the walk to the bar! Always so busy with never enough time on the crosswalk sign to make it without speed walking. Suddenly, one of the shades multiplied into a few more, all on edge and startled while on the sidewalk. Otis watched as one shade cowered towards a building, one dashed inside a door, one found a cyclist and shoved. Hairs stood up on the back of his neck and a grumbling hum vibrated through the earth below. Without thinking, without hesitation for perhaps the first time in his life, Otis followed the shade shoving the cyclist. He pushed with his entire body engaged and tense, she flew with a scream to the ground in the middle of the street, he stumbled forward and ended up landing right over her on his hands and knees just in time for a massive black SUV to bulldoze through her bicycle- Shades scattering, one ended up under the vehicle right and puffed into mist, one hovering over the cyclist asking if she was alright, one slide a phone out of its pocket and called for help, one screaming at the crowd to disperse and that’s the one he followed. Otis found a volume he didn’t know he was capable of and screeched at the top of his lungs for the crowd to run. And they did! It worked! They scattered, the SUV careened onto its side, he leapt towards it, following a shade to the driver’s side door, now facing the sky. The shade climbed to the door and opened it, so did Otis. He found an unconscious older man dangling, airbags having failed. Otis was acting with the shade now, aware of his actions’ consequences before he did them, other shades running around screaming, calling 911, checking the cyclist- “Someone call an ambulance and help me get this guy out of the car!”
And someone did! Otis and a few other bystanders, those with calm, not those scrambling around with shades in panicked, arrhythmic steps. Thank fuck he had some semblance of medical emergency response training from that time he was wholly convinced he could handle being an EMT (he couldn’t). He and bystanders extracted the man, carrying him away from the vehicle that was now smoking with sirens blaring in the distance, blocked by gridlock and honking horns. Laying him flat on the sidewalk, Otis checked for breathing, circulation, or any obvious signs of life. There were none. Chest compressions it was, then! A shade did them alongside Otis, another was on the phone with his friend Caroline and crying, another was screaming at the old man to wake up, one was sprinting towards the bar before getting about 50 feet away and puffing into fog.
Heart pounding in his throat, his mouth distinctly dry and his core and arms stiff and sore from repeated motion, Otis continued his attempt to resuscitate the man until paramedics arrived and took over the scene, having to pull him away from the crash victim as his brain was so caught in a loop of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10– that it felt impossible to stop. He felt strangely at ease, calm though he had just witnessed a horrific accident and perhaps saved two people. He saved two people? He saved two people? Acting in tandem with the shade threw him into a state of flow- with no hesitation. It was the most free and most afraid he’d ever felt, funneling the fear into action. Without thought?
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