The exclaimation had been building in Spark's throat for at least fifteen minutes now, and the sentiment behind it had been rattling around in her for at least a week. There was no two ways of saying it - life with the Workforce had become very, very dull. They trained, they smiled for a lot of cameras, they had to suffer that stupid canned music whenever they entered the building... and not much else happened. Oh, for an actual supervillain to fight or something...
Lying on her bed, she played idly with her electricity, joining her fingers with it like someone playing with an elastic band. No-one else was around. Unless someone was paying for the whole team to turn up or McCauley had some big launch, they generally went about in twos, and she was the odd girl out today.
She looked at the phone. 212-555-7452. Garth's private number. She knew it by heart, but she wasn't going to be the one to call him. He left her behind.
She suddenly found she had the phone in her hand and her fingers hovered over the buttons. Slamming it down angrily, she walked over to the bathroom. She wasn't going to be the one to give in on this. He wanted to patronise her, care more about their stupid degenerate brother than her, let him! He chose to split them up, it was HIS FAULT. The last two words were shouted as she generated enough voltage to split the water on her hands into hydrogen and oxygen, and narrowly avoided destroying the sink.
Now, she cried, fighting it all the way but unable to stop herself. She splashed water in her face, bit her tongue and gulped down water until the sobbing stopped. She was not going to let Garth get her worked up like this. Stupid bullheaded jerk that he was.
She went back into her room, stripped off and changed into her nightshirt, and semi-randomly grabbed a DVD from her "comedy" pile. It was only two in the afternoon, but suddenly she felt like vegetating, and it was her day off after all. As the big red ship filled the screen, she knocked a chunk off the chocolate bar she kept by her bedside. No, she didn't need Garth. Really.
-------------------- My views are my own and do not reflect those of everyone else... and I wouldn't have it any other way.
posted
"Thank you for continuing to hold, please wait."
The muzak resumed.
Livewire struggled not to fry the phone.
His frustration had been building for fifteen minutes now, ever since he'd called to find himself put on hold. He'd called the Workforce switchboard at least ten times in the past week, trying to get through to his sister, and every time he'd been put on permanent hold. He needed to talk to Ella, didn't this stupid machine realise that? It was his fault, he knew that, and he wanted to sort it out, but he had to talk to her on the phone before arranging a face-to-face meeting after what happened last time.
Finally, his frustration got the better of him and he slammed the phone down and stormed out of the building with the "intention" of wandering aimlessly. He needed his twin sister. Really.
-------------------- My views are my own and do not reflect those of everyone else... and I wouldn't have it any other way.
I like how you're getting around to the various characters, Reboot, and how you write them. Feel free to use Kinetix, XS, Jaz, Polar Boy and Chuck if you want. I MIGHT have some time on my hands this term break, but I'm not promising anything.
quote:Originally posted by Invisible Brainiac: I like how you're getting around to the various characters, Reboot, and how you write them. Feel free to use Kinetix, XS, Jaz, Polar Boy and Chuck if you want.
I think I'm juggling too many characters as is, TBH I've got seven public Workforcers, half of whom have had little airtime (I know what I want from Reflecto and Dragonmage, but I'm having a hell of a time with their dialogue, and I must admit that I have no handle on the "Surfer Jo" Ultraboy at all beyond someone for Enrapture to screw with in every sense of the phrase.), four private Workforcers, the teleporter (who isn't a Legion character, but at least some people here will recognise ), McCauley, Gates and Starboy, plus Trinity and Cos, Garth and Irma/Tela (Saturn Girl) from the Legion to contend with right now.
Believe it or not, I have a plan for most of them, at least, that ends in a fairly specific blowout (and I've hinted at it already, both in my recent posts *and* the posts from last year, since I've had something very like it in mind from my introduction of McCauley onward) but actually implementing it is proving hard, especially since it seems to keep growing as factors I hadn't considered leap out at me
I've got plans for cameos by most Legionnaires, including Kinetix and Blizzard (isn't that the codename decided on for Brock?) in a future installment, but that's about it from "your" characters, Trinity excepted .
quote:Originally posted by Invisible Brainiac: I MIGHT have some time on my hands this term break, but I'm not promising anything.
posted
«Okay, first real fight, don't blow it,» Polarity thought moments before a giant green boxing glove hit him in the face
--------------------
Andromeda was nervous as she stepped out of the black limosine. That feeling came more and more often to her nowadays, even if she was still good at not showing it, since she seemed to be expected to take a higher and higher profile. Still, this was verging on outright scary, and she stepped off the ground in case her walk was affected by the threat of her knees trembling.
The actual photo shoot had been arranged over a month before, but she had only found out about it a few days ago. The prospect, to her, wasn't thrilling.
--------------------
"Hey, Drag, some help here would be nice!"
Dragonmage looked, seemingly impassively, on as Ultraboy ran, superfast, in a circle around their attacker, trying desperately to avoid the blasts being spat at him while Dragonmage floated high. Out of sight, out of mind.
--------------------
"Here I come to save the day!" Reflecto sang as he leapt backwards into the air, swords flashing brightly in the sunlight, straight over a cutting laser now aimed about half an inch beneath his spine.
Enrapture scowled at him.
--------------------
"Paul...arity!" Spark shouted and blasted their assailent as she saw Polarity wasn't getting up. He retreated, temporarily blinded but otherwise unhurt from her full-strength blast.
"C'mon Paul..." she muttered, shaking him, then giving him a slight shock to wake him up.
"Ummm.. did we win...?"
"Not yet - MOVE!" she yelled, as another boxing glove scarcely missed them. "Well, at least he's predictable," she quipped nervously.
--------------------
Andromeda sat in her dressing room and looked at the excuses-for-clothing she was meant to be pictured in. It wasn't that she was ashamed of how she looked - far from it - it just felt... wrong to pose like this.
--------------------
Jose was tiring. Even an ultra guy could only run for so long. And to top it off the ****in mage was still hovering there. What the **** was he ****ing waiting for exactly?
Indeed, to all appearances, Dragonmage was just hovering atop a glowing green dragon. But...
--------------------
Reflecto was enjoying himself. Nothing the blaster could do would hurt him after all. It was just an excuse for a good workout.
Enrapture was less thrilled. As for as she could tell, there was no mind behind the form attacking them. It was as shallow as a cardboard cut-out, and left her with nothing to work with. She thus wished Reflecto would stop clowning around & just shoot the thing, and communicated this to him telepathically in the most forceful terms.
Bad enough they were stuck out in the middle of a desert filming a car ad. Actual danger meant she'd better get something out of this, as she eyed up one of the young male technicians fleeing the fight.
--------------------
Polarity looked at Spark and tried to remember that this wasn't a good time to ask her to be his date for the Halloween party. "Any ideas?"
"Not many."
They'd been hitting-and-running for the past five minutes, trying desperately to stay ahead of the mute, black-and-green-clad figure chasing them. Oddly enough, it didn't seem interested in the retail park they'd been showily defending, but in them specifically. And it had missed several clear-cut chances to knock them both out for the count, preferring instead to prolong the fight.
"Double-tag then?"
"Okaay," Spark replied, not confident. Yeah, greater than the sum of the parts and all, but it was going to leave them wide open.
Both of them were wishing Dragonmage or Andromeda were there.
--------------------
Andromeda lay back, clad only in a small bikini, and tried to look relaxed as the she heard the clicks of the camera.
"And great - and over."
As she turned over to float on her front above the white box of a set, head supported by arms which were supported by thin air, and gave the camera an odd sort of grin she'd been told to give, she wasn't feeling any more comfortable. No matter how tight her costume was, it still covered her whole body and she wasn't comfortable with this at all. She felt like she'd give anything to be allowed to really cut loose and hit something right now.
--------------------
Dragonmage finally swooped down at the figure in green and black, lifting it up by its brown hair and blinked twice.
Where the figure had been that had troubled Ultraboy so much, a cardboard cut-out of that figure floated down to the ground.
"Did you... what... was..." Ultraboy spluttered, trying to force the words out.
"Magically animated drawing. Fairly simple spell, really." Dragonmage checked his nails casually, showily, as if they were more of a problem than the thing which had Ultraboy running in circles.
"Then WHY DIDN'T..."
"Ultraboy..." Dragonmage gestured to the cameras which had caught every second of the fight for Workforce TV, "if you're going to save the day, you need perfect timing."
With that, he flew up casually into the air, followed a moment later by badly annoyed Ultraboy.
--------------------
"Reflecto, I swear..."
Moments before, Reflecto had rescued Enrapture when the ground she had been standing on was blasted into a trench metres-deep. True to form, she was more annoyed at being slung over his shoulder and seen as the damsel in distress than at being saved from a pair of broken legs or worse.
"You know, you probably want to see about losing some weight. I'm thinking of seeing McCauley about starting my own fitness line - Reflecto's Fitness Spectacular... no Reflecto's Get-in-Shape, wait..."
He didn't seem to notice the fact that they were running from an ever-widening hole in the Earth behind them.
"Reflecto," Enrapture muttered telepathically from her indignant position, "if you don't shoot this bastard right this second I use your body to do it for you..."
"Hey - that's the fun bit! Okay, it's not quite as fun as..."
"REFLECTO!"
"Okay, okay, sheesh, you'd think we were in trouble or something." With that, he dumped Enrapture on the desert ground, ran around to pull the beam after him, reached into his shoulder holsters and put two bullets between their assailant's eyes before it even registered with it that Reflecto had touched the guns.
"Thank you, thank you very much!" Reflecto's Elvis impression was dire, Enrapture thought as she picked herself up. He would pay for this - all of this. Slowly...
She wandered over to the figure and found only what looked like a cross between a shooting-range target and one of those cardboard cut-outs of celebrities. It was flat and had two clean holes in it's head where Reflecto's bullets had passed through. In details, it resembled the figure they'd been fighting, but the figure they'd been fighting had been solid.
She brushed her hair back, massaged her tender rump from where Reflecto had thrown her on the ground, and walked towards the oddly-undamaged portakabins they were staying in. She'd have to be the one to write a report, since Reflecto could barely focus long enough to brush his teeth, but after that she was having that technician, by hook or by crook. She had a lot of stress to work off.
--------------------
Polarity placed his arms round Spark's body.
"Ready?" she asked.
"Isn't it my job to ask that?"
"Stop stalling."
"I don't stall, I proctrastinate."
"Been reading the dictionary?"
"Now who's stalling?"
They paused.
"GO!" They shouted together and leapt out as one, Polarity generating power which Spark absorbed, converting it to pure electricity, which she let out as a continuous bolt in the direction of their assailant, blasting and hoping until she saw him finally fall. Then her legs gave way.
"Ella!" Polarity held her up.
"S'okay Paul, just tired. Don't think I'm meant to use double power," she forced a weak smile. "Better check on that guy before he gets up again."
"Don't think that's a problem," as Polarity looked across and saw the charred remains of a cardboard figure where their assailant had been. «What the hell...?»
--------------------
Andromeda finally got back into her own clothes at the end of a long, long day. Refusing the chaffeured lift back, she flew high and fast before anyone could object.
«Haven't been up here in a while,» she thought as she soared into the clear night sky. Ever since she'd joined McCauley, in fact. And after a day like that, the little voice at the back of her head that sometimes niggled "Why" got louder. It was something she hadn't wanted to do, and yet she'd done. And the flight over a desert road, only a van travelling the empty road in any direction within five miles of her, rang a faint bell somewhere in her head.
«Why?» she wondered as she touched down at the Workforce compound.
--------------------
"I saw the news reports. Superlatively done, even I must confess. No injuries or deaths, no significant damage, and all thanks to the Workforce." McCauley's snake-like smile broadened.
"Of course sir. Will you be wanting any more any time soon?"
"No, no, not yet. Overdo it, and they begin to wonder, and we can't have that Dragonmage, can we? Incidentally, that other thing I asked you about, after the scientists didn't find a metagene..."
"Certainly magic at play, sir, but I can't duplicate the spell yet. It's... complicated"
McCauley's smile faded, but it had been too good a day, and he needed Jin onside. "Very well, you may go. And remember, speak of neither of these things to anyone."
-------------------- My views are my own and do not reflect those of everyone else... and I wouldn't have it any other way.
posted
Spark entered the rec room, and, seeing that Andromeda was the only other one there, using a computer, walked over to her. "What're'you up to?"
"Trying to pick a costume for the Hallowe'en party."
"Wait... we're getting to go to that?"
Andromeda looked round at her. "No-one told you?"
"I heard the Legion had invited us, but no-one told me You-Know-Who had said we could go."
Andromeda bit back an automatic remark about calling McCauley that, wondered why she'd had to, and replied "It came through a few days ago, and it's even registered with Reflecto. You're sure you haven't just forgotten?"
Suddenly, Spark realised why no-one had told her. Garth. No-one on the team (except Reflecto, but that was a given) had mentioned the big argument she'd had in the room with her twin brother since the event itself. And attending the Legion Hallowe'en party meant she'd be face-to-face with him for the first time since. Obviously no-one had wanted to be the one to see her reaction.
"Ella?"
Spark shook her head to clear it at Laurel's slightly worried tone. "I'm fine. What've'you got so far?"
Laurel thought that Spark had taken it better than she'd expected, but didn't say anything about it. "Not much. I think whoever thought 'comic book superheroes' was a good theme for us was being far too cute. Besides, just look at some of these costumes."
"Says the girl who spent Thursday having her picture taken in a hundred bikinis or less," smirked Spark as she moved in to look at the screen. Admittedly, a few of the costumes WERE a bit... extreme, but most weren't anywhere near as bad as the now beet-red Laurel had suggested, especially when they went around in practically painted-on blue and black suits as a matter of course. "Why'd you do it anyway?" she asked in a more serious tone after seeing Andromeda's discomfort.
"I... don't know," Laurel muttered in a small voice.
Spark looked back round at the tall, powerful blonde, who suddenly looked more unsure of herself than Ella had ever seen her; "You can't ignore it Laurel. In a couple of months, tops, those pictures are going to be all over America and the internet."
Andromeda suddenly wished Spark had kept to slagging her. That, she could deal with. As it was, she tried to say something, but no words came out and she looked to the side and down, away from Spark.
Spark saw this and thought about saying more, but realised it wasn't going to help matters. She had to do something to make Laurel confront it though...
Her eyes flicked back to the screen, and she had an idea. She scrolled through the huge list of superheroine costumes, looking for one for a tall, strong-looking, fairly "well endowed" blonde woman, that covered a fair amount of skin but was still far more "daring" than Laurel would pick for herself. She looked back at her - Laurel was now sitting back in the chair with her eyes closed, looking like she was trying to compose herself. Granted, considering her X-ray vision that was no guarantee she wasn't looking, but Ella doubted she was.
"Dare you to wear this to the party."
Laurel opened her eyes, sat up, and her eyes went wide. The drawing on screen showed a woman with short blonde hair, *huge* breasts, even bigger muscles than Laurel herself and was somewhat shorter to judge. The costume itself was a white leotard, covering arms but not legs, with blue gloves and boots and a short red cape... and a huge hole in the middle of the chest, suggesting that the character in question was not anatomically correct (even over and above some of the... grosser abnormalities).
"You are not serious."
"Why not?"
"Because... because... LOOK at it."
Spark let out an artificially-huge sigh. "I'm not suggesting you get implants or cut your hair off or anything. Just wear it with what you've got - which is more than me, face it. You'll be stunning."
Andromeda opened her mouth to object, but Spark cut in again before she could speak, "It's not as if you'll be showing off anywhere near as much as the other day," before adding on a whim, "Tell you what - you wear that, and I wear a costume you pick for me, no questions asked. I back off, you can back off. How about it?"
Laurel didn't answer. She could tell Ella wasn't going to let this go in a hurry. Instead of answering, she opened a new window and started looking through costumes for Spark. She wasn't going to be a hypocrite and find something like the "costume" for... Vamparella, wasn't it?... she'd seen earlier just to get out of it. Spark was a lot more comfortable showing skin in general than she was anyway - she'd often worn bikinis in her off-hours over the summer and gone sunbathing, and hadn't cared who'd seen her. It had to be something else, some form of detailing or something...
Bingo. The character even had red hair.
"That one."
Spark looked at the screen, agog. After she'd said that she more-than-half-expected to be turning up at the party in a bikini or something, which she'd have been fine with. But what was on-screen covered the character's whole body save the head, which was surprising in itself. What it did have, however, was...metal?... spikes jutting out of the very tight one-piece red leather suit, down the middle of the front and spine to the waist and along the tops of each arm to the wrist, all four lines of spikes reaching right up to the poloneck.
It looked like it would be hell to sit down in.
"Deal's a deal Ella," Laurel said, confident she wouldn't have to wear the white costume, "you wear that, I'll wear the white costume."
Spark swallowed, and set her face. She wasn't letting Laurel off that easily.
"Deal," she said, and held out her hand. Andromeda was surprised, but couldn't back off after she'd said that. "Deal," and shook Spark's hand.
Both then left the room at a slightly-too-quick walking pace, Laurel to her room and Ella to the gardens, both hoping the other would blink before Halloween.
-------------------- My views are my own and do not reflect those of everyone else... and I wouldn't have it any other way.
quote:Originally posted by Cobalt Kid: 'Boot, I'm thrilled that you're posting this again! This time, I can't sit by and let that cool story I was a part of go to waste, so I plan to go back through, catch myself up on Juan/IB/myself's storyline, and continue it from there.
IB, if you read this--do the same! I wish Juan would drop in too.
Another project for me to do, but those are the things I like best . And it's good to see you writing again too Reboot.
Ta. I PMed iB about it a week or two back, BTW. He said he's still got plans, but no time to write them up in :/
So, how's this project coming along for you anyway?
OK, I'm in the process of rereading this whole story today. Just to refresh myself, and IB and Juan, who are co-authors of this section, I think we were here:
[EDIT- I've rechecked and am waaay off. Plan on adding new segments to thread shortly to pick up story--Cobie]
[ September 20, 2005, 03:42 PM: Message edited by: Cobalt Kid ]
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
quote:Originally posted by Juan: The Eye's awakening had forced him to leave the Zone of Phantoms in Iran, but he had not been cured, and although the long years of dormancy had allowed him to function for a little while, the effects of the lead poisoning had soon reappeared. He had been easily defeated by the Eye, and soon laid heavily injured on the floor, merely a spectator to the events unfolding. That the group had managed to fight to a draw was a statement to their power. After hours of incessant fighting (Monius Ellysius and Blok had lost consciousness by then), the Emerald Empress just stopped, saying that she had better things to do, and simply left. The other three, unable to stop her, could only stare in disbelief, amazed that they had actually managed to survive.
Events unfolded quickly afterwards. Proiectra buried her father and turned her back on her throne. Moldavians were ready for a republican government, she said, and since the only purpose of the Moldavian monarchy had been to contain the Romanescu clan, now that that mission had failed there was no purpose for the monarchy itself. And then they left for England. The choice was obvious, Tatiana Mallor was the fourth member of Irma Ardeen's circle of telepathic friends, and bot Maizah and Proiectra had known her for years. Maizah had been concerned about having to transport Blok, but he said that he didn't need to fly, and then simply merged with the ground and reappeared in England.
quote:Originally posted by Cobalt Kid: Tatiana watched as the mysterious man from the past lay in his bed, growing sicker by the minute. He could barely speak anymore, and although his body looked chiseled and impressive, he was too weak to use the limbs he once labored so hard to strengthen. "Monius...Elysius..." he had whispered to her earlier, and she understood that it was his name. She and Maziah had taken to calling him "Mon-El" for short, since neither was sure if they were pronouncing it right.
The Emerald Empress, as she now called herself, would have to be dealt with, although they had enough trouble of their own now. Tatiana watched the young man and found herself strangely attracted to him. "Mon-El...it will be alright, we are trying to reach help..." she whispered, as she looked at his garb and wondered if it was truly Roman as they had guessed earlier. She was unsure what anything truly was right now...
quote:Originally posted by Juan: "You do know who he is, don't you?"
"You talk?" The rocky creature was standing beside her.
"Yes. I have been listening to the words of humans for a long time."
"You mean Mon-El? You know who he is?"
"Yes. I thought you did, too. You are the heir of the shadow wielders, aren't you?"
Tatiana Mallor looked at him, now completely perplexed. How did he know?
Monius Elysius continued to deteriorate, the lead poisoning becoming too harsh for his body to resists any longer. Sweat continued to drip off his face, and he wondered why he would wake up finally, only to die a slow, agonizing death.
“You know him?” asked Tatiana to the creature they had come to refer as Blok.
“Indeed. Monius Elysius, one of the heroes of legend. As impressive on the battlefield as Achilles, as cunning as Odysseus, and as noble as Cincinnatus. The Roman’s always included one of their own when reciting heroes of legend.”
“Romans? But—nevermind. How old are you, Blok?”
“Old enough,” replied the large creature made of Earth, as he suddenly moved forward, closer to the dying Roman. He was massive, and dwarfed the young Tatiana Mallor, who stepped back suddenly. “You appear very interested in this young man, heir of the shadow wielders.”
“I…I can tell he has a bravery rarely seen these days. And that is the second time you’ve referred to my heritage. Apparently, you know a great deal.”
“Indeed,” replied Blok, as he now leaned forward to Monius Elysius. “Monius,” he whispered, in flawless ancient Latin. “It is not your time yet. You have been awakened because it is your destiny. This era will need you.” The Roman looked up at him, and for the first time, stopped moaning in pain. He nodded at Blok.
“You speak Latin?” asked Tatiana.
“There is hardly a language born on this planet that I do not speak,” replied Blok.
“That may help us more than you realize…” she though to her self, as she turned to the dying Roman. He was now looking at her, the pain as strong as ever. She picked up his hand and held it. Blok stood up, and began to walk out of the room.
“Where are you going?” asked Tatiana suddenly. Blok said nothing.
------------------------------
“AAAAAARGH!”
The screams were getting louder, and to the point where they were almost unbearable. Monius Elysius was dying in the next room, after he’d saved her life. Dying after somehow surviving for two millennium, if the Blok was to be believed. Dying like her father had done days earlier.
“Jacquie…I know this is difficult,” said Maziah, “but don’t shut the pain out. We can get through this. Together”. Maziah was her oldest and best friend, even though they’d only just met face to face for the first time. In just a short span of a few days, things had changed so drastically. This strange band of teenagers, half of who she had never heard of, hiding away in England. Sara had claimed the Emerald Eye as her own, ensuring that centuries of her families work was for nothing. The Emerald Empress was a living, breathing enemy, and her heritage of an ages old promise to stop such an event was crumbling around her.
The Emerald Empress. Sara Romanescue. Jacquie had watched her for years, and she still could not stop her from killing her father. The Emerald Empress. It was her duty to stop her.
-------------------------------
The Emerald Empress flew through the clouds, allowing the Eye to guide her. Information was flooding her brain, as the Eye opened her memory up to centuries of history that had been denied to her. Her heirs, the clan of Romanescue, were of an Ancient Bloodline that once thrived throughout the Middle Ages. Feared throughout West and East, because of their ferocity and because of their ultimate power: the Emerald Eye of Ekron.
Why had history forgotten her family? What had been done to keep the Clan of Romanescue under the miserable heel of Projectra’s family?
Now was the time to rebuild what should rightfully have been hers.
Venegar.
--------------------------------
Dirk Morgna watched as the creature known as Blok appeared to be meditating. Turning, he saw Jacquie and Maziah whispering to each other, and once more did not want to butt in. What was he doing here?
The girls, he admitted, were stunningly beautiful, and partially the reason he came on this adventure. The Princess was incredible, and unlike anyone he had ever met. Maziah, Arabic but with red hair, was equally as stunning, with a quiet beauty that he had never quite seen before. Tatiana was beautiful too, with her long flowing raven-colored hair.
Right Dirk, he thought to himself. Keep telling yourself its because of the girls that you’re here. Maybe you might actually convince yourself for a second.
The creature known as Blok rose, and without a word, walked past Dirk into the room housing the super-powered Roman Legionnaire. As he passed, Dirk noticed what looked like a large turnip on his chest.
Who the hell are these people?
-----------------------------------
Blok reentered the room, to see Tatiana still holding Monius’ hand. She looked almost as exhausted as he was. Blok stepped forward, and ripped the vegetation off of his chest, handing it to Tatiana.
“Blok? Is this…do you want me to feed this to Mon-El?
“Yes,” he replied, as he leaned forward to the Roman. “Eat what she gives to you brave one. You’ve wandered far enough.”
Hours later, Tatiana emerged to see Blok overlooking the caves that they could see from her manor.
“I don’t know what you gave to me, but it’s worked,” she said enthusiastically, despite her exhaustion. “He’s stopped dying.”
Blok nodded to her slightly.
“What you did Blok…I swear, it gives me hope.”
“What you did Tatiana, and the compassion you showed…that gives me hope. Because in the coming days, we will need it.
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
posted
The Emerald Empress landed loudly in the dessert, blasting away sand for the sheer thrill of using the power the Eye had bestowed upon her. It was amazing at what she could do, and all of the energy she can feel crackling through her veins. And the knowledge! Each few hours she could feel more knowledge being downloaded into her memories, and more pieces of a much larger puzzle coming into play. She wished it was so scattered, and the Eye could just give it all to her, but she didn’t believe it was independent enough to pick and choose what she was allowed to see.
The recreation of Venegar was the ultimate goal; that she knew. But she had much unfinished business to attend to. The Royal Family of Moldavia was destroyed by her hand, except for one: Princess Jacqueline Projectra who had infiltrated their circle of friends with the intentions of holding her back, as her family had done to the Clan of Romanescue for centuries. This was unacceptable. Indeed—they were most likely all in on it! Those awful girls…let them have their own group…she didn’t care if she was an outsider any longer.
Most importantly, however, she needed to learn why the Eye was reawakened to begin with? She knew something must have happened, and she needed to know why—although for some reason, whenever she planned on pursuing this, the Eye continued to give her more information on other things that needed to be done.
No matter, she had a name. Mordru. She would find the man known as Mordru.
------------------------------------
“Feeling better, Moinus Elysius?” asked Blok, standing in front of the recovering Roman.
“Yes, much better. Whatever you gave to me creature, it did its job. I feel as good as I felt before the lead poisoning…all those years ago…”
“It must be hard to comprehend, I’m sure. And the others have taken to calling me Blok, which you may call me too.”
“Alright then, Blok. It seems they have taken to calling me Mon-El, which will suffice. The life I knew as Monius Elysius apparently is long past. Two thousand years…that seems to be such a great period of time. The cave that the Persians placed me in truly did have the powers that they spoke of.”
“Indeed it did. And you are here now, Mon-El, and I believe that is for a purpose.”
“You know much Blok. Much more than you are speaking of. Who are these women that we are traveling with? What do they have to do with the Eye, of all things? Surely in two thousand years, the Emerald Eye of Ekron would be long destroyed?”
“I assure you, it has not. And the girls are the brightest there is to offer of this era. One of them will be of interest to you, since you know her father—the third of three, besides you and I, to remember a bygone era.”
“Another?”
“Yes. Mordru.”
----------------------------------
Maziah sat in quiet contemplation, trying to focus on the recent turn of events. However, it was far too difficult for her. Her thoughts were on Nura, her sister. She left so suddenly, almost abandoning her. Hopefully Nura was alright and she really did find the Legion they were searching for. She hoped the Legion treated her well enough and were not mean to her. She stole a quick smile—Nura, she knew, could take care of herself. She was always the more fragile one.
“Maziah?” said Tatiana suddenly, who appeared in the doorway. Maziah’s face lit up.
“Tatiana,” she smiled. “All of this confusion and craziness, it’s still such a pleasure to finally meet you face to face. Thank you for allowing us to stay here,”
“My pleasure,” she replied with her crisp posh English accent. “I cannot tell you how surprised I was to see you and Jacquie arrive at my door, and with the passengers you brought. Surprised, and absolutely delighted,” she added, seeing Maziah’s face grow concerned for a moment. “To believe, others with abilities like ours? This ‘Legion’ is all over the news, but here in Britain! And Mon-El and Blok…”
“Yes, it is amazing that we all found each other….”
“I simply figured that you and Jacquie could not pass up picking up a stud like Dirk,” Tatiana grinned.
Maziah flushed. “It was all so fast…”
“I know. I think you can help me though. Up until now, none of us have been able to understand Mon-El at all, save Blok, who apparently speaks all languages. Not to mention that Jacquie, you, myself and Dirk all have our own accents.”
“You want me to cast a spell?”
“Exactly.”
“Ah, I see! A spell of similarity on Blok’s ability to communicate with everyone. This way we can all understand each other better. Very brilliant, Tatiana. Even if your motives are slightly suspect.”
It was Tatiana’s turn to blush.
----------------------------------
“Look at this,” said Dirk, pointing to the television. “It’s a report on the Legion, and the reaction of the international community. Interesting…you know, I bet we could be—Jacquie?”
The Princess turned suddenly. “Oh, I’m sorry Dirk, my mind was just wandering again.”
“I know it must be hard, Jacquie. But we’ve been sitting around for a few days now, idly doing nothing. Maybe its time we, you know, tracked the green woman, or did something.”
“Dirk…why are you bringing this up to me?” replied Jacquie, slightly taken aback by his being so forward.
“Because, you’re a Princess, aren’t you? Haven’t you been brought up with the intentions of being able to lead? Because, to be honest, right now we kinda need some sort of leader around here.”
The Princess looked, at him, and then away, not really looking at anything at all.
-----------------------------------
Maziah sat cross-legged, face to face with Blok, who also sat cross-legged. Around them was a circle of candles, and a rare eastern incense burned in the air.
“Thank you Blok, for agreeing to this,” she said.
“It is no trouble. I was curious to watch you work a spell myself anyway. Will you be able to converse while you do this spell?”
“For this one, yes. I am very adept at using magic, although I still have some ways to go.”
“To one day use magic on par with your father?”
“Y-You know of my father?”
“Yes, I do Maziah Al-Nayal. But I also know you’ve run from him, and that you do not wish to follow in his footsteps.”
“I have become a mage like his is,” she replied.
“I think you know that is not what I meant. Your father has plans for this world, and I believe you wish to stand against him. You do not need to answer.”
Silence came over the room, and Maziah continued to enact her spell, magic emanating from her and flowing into the other rooms around the others.
“How do you know so much about my father, Blok? And Mon-El?”
“I have lived a long life. I will help you Maziah. I will help you do what you need to do against your father.”
She stared at him hard and long, a surge of aggression coming through her—very unlike her more reserved nature. Slowly, he smiled at her; the first time she had seen him make a facial expression. And the warmth he was showing her began to spread.
“You’re an enigma, Blok. But you make me feel safe.”
And with that, the spell was complete.
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
quote:Originally posted by LoneWolfLondo: Circling his opponent, Hasim finally locked on the other man's fighting style. His "Nemesis" power kicked in, and he felt himself grow that much stronger, that much faster, that much better at anticipating moves. The other man was bigger, but that was no longer an asset. Easily ducking a punch that would have connected moments ago, he moved in and hit the man square in the stomach. Doubled over, the man grunted in suprise; the kid hadn't seemed so tough before. A sharp blow to the nose brought the man's hands up again. Another hit to the stomach finished him.
The crowd roared their approval.
Maybe it was only a street fight in a back alley of Rome, but every fight gave Hasim more experience at using his nemesis power. He had fought his way across eastern Europe without losing a match. The crowd quickly dispersed as they always did, but the arranger stayed to pay Hasim his cut of the bets. He didn't need the money; father's insurance settlement had paid off well. And if he closed his eyes, he could still see the look on father's face as he... But never mind, back to the task at hand. Each fight helped him master his talents, and brought him that much closer to his goal. They were a Legion, he an army of one. He would perfect the powers granted him by Tisiphone and Nemesis, prove to the Legion what a valuable asset he could be, and join them. United, he had no power against them, but one by one, eliminated from within...Hasim just smiled his dark, cruel smile and savored the thought.
The Mallor Manor
Jacquie searched the news stations, hoping for some type of glimpse of Sara, which was to no avail. She looked over to see Tatiana and Dirk online, going through various websites, message boards and chats on the off-chance that any type of news could be found. She smiled and thought about their earlier ‘meeting’.
The six of them had all stood in a circle, Mon-El fully able to walk around. It was the first time all six of them would be speaking together at the same time, oddly enough. Princess Jacquie smiled wryly, saying “Well, we thank you Blok, for allowing us to understand one another so easily. And you Mysa.” And then without hesitation, she told them that something needed to be done about the Emerald Empress, Sara of Romanescue, and that she planned on taking action and being the one to do it. Before she could finish, it was evident that each one of the other five had every intention of helping her in her mission.
Now the three of them searched the various means available to them (if only they had some type of super-computer like in movies or books), while Maziah did her own search. She looked over to see her friend, whose physically presence she had already grown accustomed to, and saw her deep in meditation, attempting whatever spells she could to locate Sara.
She suddenly wondered how Irma and Nura were doing, and why the telepathic contact with them had stopped so suddenly. Was it because Irma was preoccupied with other things, or was their other forces at work here? She smiled at her own paranoia…the way Blok talked, it seemed that the very future of the world was at stake in the quiet battle they waged.
She did wonder how Blok and Mon-El were doing…
-----------------------------------
Rome
Mon-El walked down the streets of Rome, entirely all too uncomfortable with the clothing that he had on. Tatiana had an extra pair of ‘blue jeans’ (an odd name) and a tight-fitting ‘t-shirt’ (equally as odd), with a more ingenious pair of footwear, boots (ah, so they did make progress in two thousand years). He preferred to wear his leather breastplate armor, but was told he would not fit in with everyone else, in this armor-less age. He kept it anyway, at Tatiana’s manor. It was the notion of having to wear these pants that he would have to get used to. Tatiana even told him that even if he could wear the armor, he’d still have to wear pants under it.
Tatiana. She made him smile. He couldn’t help but feel grateful to her for staying with him while he was sick. And she was stunningly beautiful.
“She is too young for you, my friend,” said Blok suddenly, appearing out of the Earth in an alleyway.
“Who is?” replied Mon-El.
“Tatiana. I know what you’re thinking.”
“So now you read minds too, Blok? I wonder how much more cryptic you will be tomorrow,” Mon-El smiled. To be honest, having Blok around was the best thing he could have ever hoped for in dealing with all he had to accept.
Hours earlier, after their brief little ‘meeting’, Mon-El informed the that he needed to see Rome, to see if the Golden City still stood. They all seemed taken aback, but he was firm in doing this…it had been far too long since he had seen the center of the world. Blok prepared him for what he was to see, and it truly was the shock that they had told him it would be.
So much beauty lost. So much of its personality different and washed away. From up high, though, he could still see some of former beauty of Rome, much of it now ruins. After thinking about it for awhile, two thousand years was an incredible amount of time for there to still be remnants of the greatest empire that ever was…so perhaps this was a tribute to all that Rome was. Blok told him it went much deeper than that—society still owed much of its progress to Rome, even this very day. And much of its ills, he added, but Mon-El didn’t feel like pursuing that comment.
“I can fly here at top-speed, even if I have to get used to learning where everything in the Empire is once again. But your ability to travel through the Earth is incredibly impressive. Can you travel anywhere you wish?”
“Almost,” replied the large being.
“I am glad to have you with me then,” replied Mon-El.
They began to explore the city, Blok doing his best to keep to the shadows.
Mon-El walked by another side-road, avoiding the horrendous traffic. He noticed there were no lights and it was almost purposely dark. Immediately, his super-hearing picked up footsteps on either side of him. Without a moments hesitation, he turned and saw three attackers approaching him, two in front, one in back, obviously trying to rob him of his valuables.
He was on the two faster than anything they’d ever seen. One punch, and one attacker was sent through the wall on their side, and another punch sent the other attacker well over 20 feet into the air, Mon-El not caring where he landed. He was on the third before the attacker could even process what was happening. The man fell to his knees, and Mon raised his hand as if to crush the attacker’s skull—
“Stop! Mon-El, you must stop this at once!” yelled Blok loudly.
“Wha--?!” replied Mon-El, shocked. “Blok, these men attacked me—surely for that, their lives are forfeit. This cannot be allowed, attacks in the street. It must be dealt with severely…”
“No, Mon-El, it cannot. Much has changed since the days of Ancient Rome. Death is not dealt so easily in some places anymore, and given your distinct advantage over them, this would be quite similar to murder. I ask you, please, reconsider your wrath.”
Mon-El hesitated. “This era…will take some time to get used to…” he said to himself absently, letting the man go, as he ran away with tears streaming down his face and his courage running down his legs. “But I believe in justice and honor, which may now be understood differently. I have much to think about.”
Quietly, Mon-El walked away, as Blok watched on.
In the shadows, another figure watched the entire exchange. Hasim Diyarbakir looked on, both shocked and in awe of what he just witnessed. For months he had beaten every challenger that stepped up to fight him from across Eastern Europe to Rome. If one beng could possibly hope to beat his Nemesis powers, it must be this individual, whose raw power is like nothing he’d ever seen of before. Yes, this ‘Mon-El’ will be his greatest test.
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
“Almost there,” thought the Emerald Empress to herself. “To where Mordru is, according to the Eye.” A sudden burst of energy knocked her to her feet, taking the wind out of her. “The Eye is somehow telling me not to go…I know it…how can that be? I am its master! Take me to this ‘Mordru’!
Once more, the Emerald Empress rose in the air, on the way to Yemen, the home of the arch-mage known as Mordru.
--------------------------------------
Rome
Mon-El sat and drank an expresso, marveling at the potent effects it was having on him. “I can actually feel my heartbeat speeding up…” he thought, “even on my advanced physiology. Obviously, lack of contact with these modern items have made me more vulnerable to them. Which should prove interesting in balance with my ‘abilities’.” He sipped again, enjoying it.
“I already do not like this era. Those men should have been mine to do with what I see fit after assaulting me for no reason. If I had my gladius, I would have ended it for all three—as it was, their lucky I left my weapons in that cave. But Blok has not led me wrong yet, and I feel he may be my best hope for starting a new life here. I will heed his call for stopping the casual dealing of death, no matter if they deserve it or not. But I will adhere to the old Roman customs that I have always believed in.”
“You. Your name is Mon-El,” he suddenly heard, seeing a young man standing in front of him. There was something strange about him…he was obviously excited and tense. Mon had seen it enough on the battlefield: this boy was ready for a battle.
“It is.”
“My name is Hasim Diyarbakir. I watched you man-handle those men back there. It was magnificent. You may be the greatest fighter I’ve ever seen. However, I believe I can best you.”
“You’d wish to duel, then?” said Mon-El. “I advise against it, ah, Hasim, you said?”
“You can call me Nemesis. And I believe I can beat any opponent.”
Mon-El stood up, ready for a battle. But he suddenly stopped. “No, I have no use for pointless fighting. This will serve nothing, and I don’t care who would win.”
“Then you have no choice,” said Nemesis, as he leaped forward, punching Mon-El across the face.
-----------------------------------------
Mallor Manor
“Nothing,” said Jacquie, flipping the television off.
“Nothing here either,” said Dirk. “Its no use Jacq, I don’t know what we can do.”
“If only we could find some way to use the mental link that Irma has with us to track down where Sara is,” said Tatiana.
“That’s what Maziah is trying to do now,” said Jacquie quietly. “I apologize for how frustrating this is.”
“There’s nothing you can do, Jacquie,” said Dirk, putting his arm around her shoulders. The sudden closeness of him seemed to surprise her, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about this. He noticed the awkwardness.
“I”VE FOUND HER!” yelled Maziah all of a sudden, completely exhausted! “No, no, no…” she looked terrified, her eyes wide with tears forming. “Not there…” she whispered.
“What is it, Maziah?!” said Jacquie grabbing her, “where is she?”
“She’s going to Yemen…to find my father I think…”
“Oh no,” said Jacquie.
“Her father? Whose her father? Why’s that bad?” said Dirk, rifling questions. “What the hell is going on now?!”
“Maziah, listen to me,” said Jacquie, “I need you to teleport us to where Sara is right now. Can you do that spell? I know you have it in you.”
“I…I…it will take so much out of me, but…”
“Maziah, if we stop her before she gets there, she won’t find your father,” said Jacquie firmly.
“I’ll do it,” she replied.
Behind them, Tatiana had picked up her cell phone and was dialing. “Who are you calling?” asked Dirk, trying to figure out what was going on.
-------------------------------------------------
Rome
Nemesis landed another viscous punch across Mon’s face, to the Roman’s utter shock. How in the world did he keep landing such impossible punches, when Mon’s quickness and invulnerability should have made this fight a non-issue? Mon took the full brunt, but managed to get a punch of his own into Nemesis’ chest, knocking him backwards.
Impossible. The boy should have fallen to the ground from that blow. Nemesis stood up, and the two squared off again. Mon noticed Blok had arisen out of the Earth and was watching intently, as Nemesis landed a sweeping kick and knocked him to the ground, leaping on top of him. Mon used the force to send Nemesis over his shoulders, further away.
Suddenly, the cell phone in his pocket began to ring and vibrate. Tatiana had put it there, and had had explained to him what to do if this should happen. Still, this new technology was like nothing he’d ever seen, and he was in the middle of a fight. An image of Tatiana in need of him, hurt or worse, flashed through his eyes. She would not be calling for no reason. He rose ten feet into the air and turned it on.
Nemesis and Blok looked on from the ground, as Mon fumbled with the phone, finally turning it on. Her voice was extra loud over the phone: “Mon, we need you, and we need you quickly! You have to get to the Empress! She’s approaching Yemen…oh God, do you even know where that is? On the tip of the Arabian Pennisula, south of Saudia Arabia, its…Mon, do you think you’ll make it?”
“I’ll find you, and I’ll find the Empress. I’ll see you there Tatiana,” he said closing the phone. “Blok…,” but Blok was already going back into the Earth, no doubt leaving them to go to the Empress.
Mon flew down and grabbed Nemesis with one arm under his shoulder blade, flying off with him. “Where are you taking me?!” asked Nemesis, shocked and suddenly scared.
“You owe me an explanation. And an apology. And I’m going to get it. Whether I have to beat it out of you, or take it in the form of an ally to help us. We’re going to Yemen…wherever the hell that is.”
“I’ll take you there,” said Nemesis, suddenly curious to where this journey was taking him.
[ September 21, 2005, 10:37 AM: Message edited by: Cobalt Kid ]
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
quote:Originally posted by Eryk Davis Ester: At an army installation outside of Seoul, Ten Zil Kim awoke hungry. He was the child of a Korean army officer and an American nurse. His father worked in a top secret biological warfare lab funded by the Americans. Little did Ten's father know that weaknesses in the safety procedures of the lab had exposed him to a dangerous strain of microbes that was currently destroying his digestive system, and was having an even more unexpected impact on the metabolism and digestive systems of his two teenage sons...
The sound-barrier continued to break in their wake, and things moved far too fast for Nemesis to have any idea what was happening, where they were going and how fast they were going? 200 miles an hour? No, far faster. 500? Who could tell? Who was Mon-El and how strong was he? What had he gotten into?
Mon-El reached Asia in what seemed like minutes, leaving Rome and Europe behind. Through what he once knew as Antioch and into the Eastern world. Nemesis’s knowledge of his home country of Turkey and the surrounding areas had done a fair enough job to let him know where Yemen was.
This was by far the fastest he had ever flown. He had never cut this loose before.
He saw her. He cocked his fist, and…
BOOM!!!
The punch landed before she knew what hit her, and by rights should have taken off her skull, and sent it around the circumference of the world ten times over. But the Eye must have held some physical protection over her too.
They were still moving at a top speed, and there was no stopping that kind of velocity now. Mon-El simply grabbed a hold of the Empress, and pushed even harder.
She had no idea what was happening, and she was dazed beyond all belief. She felt the Emerald Eye rush energy into her, saving her life, for she surely should have been dead.
Nemesis could no longer stand it. They were moving so fast, he wondered how he was still holding on, unable to realize that Mon-El still had one had on his waist.
Past Yemen, over the Arabian Sea. Kilometers. Thousands of kilometers. Through the Bay of Bengal. Indescribable velocity. Finally, they began to descend. The Emerald Empress fought to regain her senses, the bruise on her face swelling despite the Eye’s best efforts and the man clutching her shoulders. A forest below?
BOOM!!!
---------------------------------
New York City, de facto headquarters of the Legion of Super-Heroes
Nura had quite enough.
There was a lot going, she knew. And getting this outfit together must be a task that weighed beyond heavily on Gene and Cos.
Nura bint-Mordru bin-Ahmad Al-Nayal needed to know her sister Maziah was safe, and if that meant over-stepping her bounds with the Legion leader, whichever of the two he might have been, then so be it.
“Lyle, a word if you please,” she said to Invisible Kid, catching him when he was alone, as rare as that might be. She liked Invisible Kid a great deal for a variety of reasons: he was incredibly smart; she had noticed that he also quietly would over-step his bounds and act in the role as leader if need be; and he was one of the few males that she had not caught staring at her when they thought she was not looking—something that maybe one day she would use to her advantage.
“Nura, what can I do for you,” he asked.
She told him.
“And Gene’s reaction, I’m sure, was as can be expected,” he added after she finished.
“Of course. We do not have a plane to spare, and even if one day we have all types of technology to help us, we currently do not, so there is no way I could get a group of Legionnaires across the ocean to investigate. I do not think he takes me seriously because of my power.”
“Hm…why come to me?”
“Because I know some of the…’sneakier’ Legionnaires look up to you. Maybe you can help me arrange a small group, to investigate.”
“But how can they get there?”
“Jenni can run across water, can she not?”
“Nura…that’s a long way away…and where would we know where to start? Who would go? Jenni can’t carry people on her backs, you know?”
“I know. She would only need to carry one full person. As to where to start…I had a dream last night…”
------------------------------
Somewhere Outside of Seoul, South Korea
Two armed soldiers stand guard outside of a small hut, somewhere along the forests. They are hidden among the brush of a forest somewhere outside of Seoul, in South Korea. These soldiers, however, are North Korean.
“If the father fared as terribly as he did, what chance does the boy have?” asked one soldier to the other, a sense of genuine distraught in his voice.
“I’m certain that he has none. Not with who he is dealing with.”
“Gaining the abilities of the father is one thing, but crossing the borders into South Korea to torture a little boy? I do not think this is such a good idea…”
“Quiet. We have no choice in the matter. The boy will talk—and he’s hardly a boy. He is fifteen years of age. Not that it matters to him.”
“I hope he does not use his axe again. What it does to them…”
“Your nervousness is beginning to effect me now Goh. Please stop. The boy will be persuaded, as his torturers name-sake informs us he will. He is young and most likely has no idea at all what this is about. His father somehow began dying because of a radioactive wound in his digestive system that might be the scientific find of the decade, and we needed to learn why. He did not speak, so he was killed. Now his son will face the man who murdered his father, the most famous and heinous torturer that North Korea has ever known. The Persuader.”
----------------------------
In the hut, a small opening in the ground revealed a pit below, chiseled out of the caverns, edgy with rock and dirk. Six feet deep, the final three feet were filled with disgusting water, rotten by the bacteria that lived within.
A fifteen year old boy, chained by his two arms, hung waist deep in the water. He was in tatters, and he was starving. Ten Zil Kim wondered how in the world he ended up here, and why he was going to die. He knew his father must be dead.
His mother and his little brother Ren, who shared the same secret ability he did, had left South Korea two days earlier on a boat to Japan. He and his dying father would follow suit, since his father was unable to leave his bed that morning. But then they came. And he had been left here for two days, while they tried to learn the secrets to the problems his father faced. They did not yet realize he had his own unique abilities, which his father said were the opposite of his own.
He heard footsteps suddenly, and a door shut.
Someone was here.
[ September 22, 2005, 08:20 PM: Message edited by: Cobalt Kid ]
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
“He denied me, your father. He denied me what I wanted.”
Ten Zil Kim was shaking with fear, and he had no way of stopping. Waste-deep in bacteria ridden water, starving, in tattered rags and exhausted. And without his will driving it, his body was literally shaking and he had no way of stopping it. He was scared worse than he’d ever been in his life. Worse than when he realized his father was going to die.
“Open your eyes boy. I want you to see me.”
The fifteen year old boy did not open his eyes. Fear caused sweat to run down his forehead, despite the chilly feeling in his bones. His stomach, long ago losing the physiology that gave it indigestion or aches, was churning.
“Your father died on me before I could properly use my skills. Before I could ‘persuade’ them, as they like to say about me.”
Ten Zil opened up his eyes, and looked up the six foot hole. Above him, he saw a massive man, muscular with sinewy arms, with scars all over his bare shirt and chest. His face was covered in an iron mask, which reminded the boy of cartoons of a some executioner about to kill a prisoner by beheading him.
“I will not let you deny me that pleasure again.”
“N-N-NOOOO!” screamed Ten Zil, uttering the first words he had in days. “ST-STOP!!” The Persuader snickered, and reached into the pit, grabbing the chains that were holding him. He began pulling him upwards.
“The secret that your father uncovered. The radiation. I want to know what it is. He must have told you. Whatever it is that was killing him…he must have told you it. We want it.”
“I-I-I don’t know it,” said Tenzil, as the came ever closer to the Persuader. “I don’t know,” Ten Zil lied as he felt his body finally come out of the murky water he was in. He saw leaches on his legs.
“I used my axe to cut him up. I want you to see what he did to my axe.”
Fresh tears began to run down Ten Zil’s eyes, and he felt the salty-ness of them stinging his dirty, unwashed face. The Persuader lifted him out of the hole, so high that he was face to face with him. He backhanded him across the face, and Ten Zil went flying across the room.
The Persuader lifted up an axe from the corner, it’s blade twinkling in the light. No, not the light. It was omitting some type of…radioactive energy? Ten Zil had seen it before…was—does this have something to do with his father.
“If I had known slicing your father up would give me this present, I would have used a dozen more axes.”
Ten Zil crouched together and closed his eyes.
“Come boy. I’ll give you a fighting chance.” Underneath that mask, he knew the Persuader was smiling.
BOOM!!!
Suddenly, completely out of nowhere, the ground erupted in what felt like a tremendous earthquake! The entire hut itself blew completely off its foundation, and Ten Zil saw the Persuader get ripped up in the wind, and go flying. The chains held, and Ten Zil remained, being pulled by the wind, while the chains pulled his body back in the other direction—literally stretching and ripping him apart.
The wind stopped suddenly, and the damage was everywhere. He could hear more pounding. Then he saw it. Not twenty feet ahead, he could see green energy being fired, while a figure moved around so quickly it looked like a blur.
He looked at the chains, and knew what to do. They were a form of matter, and he could eat through all matter. While the radioactivity destroyed his father from within, it had the opposite effect on Ten Zil and his brother. He began to munch on the chains, ripping them apart with his teeth. He tasted nothing, his sense of taste replaced by a digestive acid that burned the metal into edible substance.
One chain broke.
He kept eating.
Another.
Ten Zil ran, and fell, not realizing how diminished his body was. He needed to eat more. He was starving. Then he saw a gun up ahead, a M-16 from one of the soldiers standing guard as the Persuader prepared to torture him and kill him. Those bastards. They killed his father. They were going to kill him.
He picked up the M-16. He had no clue what was going on. He knew there needed to be justice though.
[ September 22, 2005, 11:55 AM: Message edited by: Cobalt Kid ]
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
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![[Smile]](smile.gif)
I've got seven public Workforcers, half of whom have had little airtime (I know what I want from Reflecto and Dragonmage, but I'm having a hell of a time with their dialogue, and I must admit that I have no handle on the "Surfer Jo" Ultraboy at all beyond someone for Enrapture to screw with in every sense of the phrase.), four private Workforcers, the teleporter (who isn't a Legion character, but at least some people here will recognise ![[Big Grin]](biggrin.gif)
. And it's good to see you writing again too Reboot.![[Razz]](tongue.gif)
