January 1st, 9:01 AM Calden Broadcasting Tower, Gotham City
“Good morning and Happy New Year, America!” said Amana, flashing the camera an award-winning smile. “Welcome to the first Morning Show of 2021 with Amana Snow—”
“And Kenny Beauford,” said her co-host, his teeth gleaming with no less intensity. “Gosh, doesn’t it always feel great to greet a new year, Amana? A chance to start fresh, make those new year's resolutions!”
Amana’s blue eyes darted over to her co-host, who was seated in a plush black chair identical to her own. “It sure does, Ken! But this isn’t just any New Years! It’s the tenth anniversary of the end of the Two Month War!”
“Can you believe it’s been that long, Amy?” said Ken, his smile respectfully dulling. “I can’t. I remember holding my wife and children that New Years Eve, surrounded by countless other frightened families as we listened to the reports come in from Hub City.”
Amana nodded slowly. “We all do, Ken, and we all owe our thanks to both the brave men and women of our armed forces who fought and died to hold them back, and of course, the Seven Wonders of the World themselves, who drove the Three-Horned God back into the Shattered Scar.”
An image appeared behind them of the seven founding members of the Justice League—The Champion, Grim, Wonder Woman, Emerald Knight, Kraken, Velocity, and Masquerade—standing in front of battered, exhausted, yet ultimately smiling platoon of soldiers.
“All hope would have been lost without these brave heroes,” said Ken, turning in his chair to face the image. “And this was merely the first time they protected our nation—our very Earth—from otherworldly threats.”
The image shifted to the League battling a heavily muscled, orchid-coloured alien with a fin stretching across its otherwise bald head. It had a single, massive eye that took up both a portion of its forehead and the space where a human would normally have two. Beneath its broad and flat nose was a maw of razor sharp teeth.
“Who could forget Despero’s attack in 2013?” said Amana. “Or when Velocity and Kraken teamed up to force the monstrous B.O.B. back into the sea?”
Images and short video footage of the heroes clashing with various villains over the past decade were now playing silently behind them, moving from right to left in a scrolling montage.
“Yes, the Justice League has undoubtedly done much for humanity,” said Amana. “Some of you may remember the chaos before they had banded together, with police unsure who was friend or foe as others with powers flooded the street. Now the Nation is undoubtedly in favor of these masked crusaders, from our champions in the Justice Station, to your own neighborhood guardians.”
Behind Amana and Ken, the images merrily scrolling along changed from the familiar seven wonders to a slew of other heroes in masks. Some were known through the country and were easily recognizable, others were only cheered in the homes of small neighborhoods that they protected.
“It’s undeniable that they’ve made great strides towards helping us rebuild since the war,” said Amana, smiling softly, “but we still have a long way to go before the America we grew up with can be reclaimed for our children, and our children’s children.”
Ken nodded in the direction of the screen behind them, which was still cycling through its inexhaustible list of heroic imagery. “Thankfully, we have no shortage of those who are brave enough and willing enough to step up to help their fellow man. Here to discuss more of our Nation’s heroes and their influence is renowned Hero Journalist Jenna Justice…”
January 1st, 9:11 AM Times Square, New York City
“Thanks for having me on the show, guys! So, as you know I recently wrote an article on…”
The voice of Jenna Justice flooded Times Square from the broadcast dozens of feet in the air, proudly showing the Morning Special to the crowds. Though it was accompanied by the blaring of car horns and the general murmur of New York City, it came across clear to the occupants of the Square.
“Pfft,” scoffed Morena. “I doubt that’s even her real last name.”
What drivel these humans watched. Inane and baseless idealism tailored to convince them that their society wasn’t still teetering on the edge of oblivion. Still, they were better off then folks like herself and poor Atena, who couldn’t even buy the meds she needed.
Staring down at the Digoxin in her talons, she was unable to help baring her fangs.
Without this medication, Atena would die, and she couldn’t even get it on her own due to her appearance. But did any human care? No. Even these so-called “heroes” only looked out for their own. What did it matter to them if another “monster” perished?
But this wasn’t the place to wax poetic about the injustices she and her people suffered. The longer Morena was in a human neighborhood, the more danger she was in of being harassed.
“HEROES!!” The voice shouting rose above even the general loudness that permeated most of New York, as loud and screeching as any of Morena’s species. “DEMONS IN DISGUISE! We have invited the DEVIL into our homes by accepting this witchcraft! Lucifer has his champions, and we praise them as gods! METAHUMANS ARE HERALDS OF THE END!”
Morena pulled the hood of her cloak down over her face, her lips twisted into a scowl. She didn’t exactly care for metahumans—or any kind of humans—herself, but this man was clearly beyond the reach of sanity. His clothes were ragged and what little greying hair he had left whipped violently in the wind in thin strands.
Shaking her head, she turned away from the pathetic scene and started pushing her way through the crowd. She needed to get back home with Atena’s medicine.
Only to suddenly be wrenched around.
“You all turn from me but it is the truth! By turning your back on the truth you walk into the arms of the devil and his ilk!” The man was shouting at her now, eyes wild and breath laboured with a surprisingly tight grip on Morena’s arm. “Even now regular humans outnumber these magicians, but we are regarded as little more than cattle! While monsters lurk at our borders, in our very-”
The man inhaled sharply, those eyes that once flicked and almost rolled in a sunken skull focusing on the hint of feathers peeking out of her cloak.
“MONSTER!” He roared, spittle flying from his mouth as he jerked his hand away as though burned.
Morena screeched sharply when he jerked his hand away, tearing her cloak from her shoulders and exposing her wings and talons to the crowd, most of whom looked on in startled shock. Baring her fangs at the lunatic in a warning gesture, she expanded the crest on her head in an intimidation display.
Reaching down to snatch her cloak off the ground she threw it over herself again and began pushing her way through the crowd—a rather easy feat, given their sudden eagerness to avoid her.
Wonderful. This was just the perfect topping to her shit salad of a day.
Leaving Times Square behind her, she relished the diminishment of the city’s ambiance. She never liked large crowds, even before she came to this world, the home of her ancestors. But while most people continued to avoid her, she couldn’t help noticing one man trailing her from a distance.
Well, it didn’t matter, Morena supposed. She was almost home.
January 1st, 9:58 AM (Eastern USA) Justice Station, Space
“...And that’s it for us! As always, I’m Kenny Beauford.”
“And I’m Amana Snow.”
“And this has been your Morning Show broadcast!”
”Welcome back, Operative Grim.”
”Morning shows, Matthias? I suppose it’s better than the dramas.” The deep, masculine voice of Grim permeated the room, the mechanical slide of the door behind him accompanying it. On the couch in one of the spacious rooms provided in the Justice Station, the masked man in his button up shirt and dark vest waved a hand, tilting his head to look at the new occupant.
”I’ll have you know that Savior of my Heart is a visual masterpiece. The acting, the passion, the drama!”
”I do like the catfights,” was the deadpan response from the taller hero. Placing his hands on either side of his helmet, Grim pulled it up and off. Immediately crimson bangs fell into Zoey’s eyes, being blown away as she tucked the wolf-styled helmet underneath her arm. ”What are you doing here so early, anyway?”
”Ah, coffee of course! Alfred brews it to perfection.”
”Thank you, Operative Masquerade.”
Zoey didn’t respond, merely quirking a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. Matthias seemed to stare right back, his white and black full face mask hiding his expression. Finally he coughed into his hand and looked away.
”... I also may have accidentally opened a portal here instead of home after last night. You do know how I feel about celebrations.”
A non-committal hum was his response.
”As long as you didn’t bring any stragglers along.”
”Perish the thought of me being so careless, Miss Kasimir! But it begs the question, why are you here?”
”Work,” The response was dry as Zoey once more began to move, walking by with a straight back and a flick of the short red cape hanging off her shoulder.
”Of course, I should have guessed! You work too hard, Miss Kasimir - it’s still New Year’s!”
”And with the new year, a slew of new problems I have no doubt. I won’t be here long anyway, I was stuck at the mayor’s New Year’s party until one in the morning. Then there were a few incidents in Gotham with a group of drunk Terrans, and a metahuman with a gigantification ability nearly blew up a city block enlarging fireworks. Then there was the increased demon activity at the Shattered Scar border...”
”Ah yes, every year they get a little rowdy around this time, don’t they?”
”Indeed. With that in mind, if you’ll excuse me Matthias…” The Justice Leaguer known as Masquerade merely lifted his hat, tipping it towards his teammate. With a last nod of her own Zoey continued deeper into the Justice Station, leaving him behind.
”Alfred, have you already compiled the yearly reports?” Immediately the smooth voice of the Station’s A.I. sounded from the walls, following Zoey along with every step.
”Of course, Operative Grim. The reports of last years’ crime statistics, the obituaries of all heroes within the past twelve months, the-”
”Good, good.”
”And the quarterly review of Vanguard and the latest initiatives proposed.”
A low sigh escaped Zoey’s lips, still painted a deep red from the party she had attended earlier as her civilian persona. So much to do, always so much to do. Finally she reached her destination, the door sliding open at her approach. The room itself was spartan, if rather large, containing only a computer chair and a white desk.
Setting her helmet down on the desk, the Gotham Hero sunk into the seat with a tired groan. Immediately a screen appeared in front of her, glowing as the displays lit up ten feet across. A keyboard similarly lit to life, the light-construct seemingly hovering in front of her.
”Of course, Operative Grim. Since last quarter, views of non-humans have increased by nearly five percent in the public eye, however the majority of citizens in the USA and the Pacific Federation in particular are still largely against non-human rights. With that in mind, relocation by Agents of Vanguard has been heavily protested…”
Another huffing sight, and Zoey reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose.
”Alfred?” She interrupted.
”Yes, Operative Grim?”
”Please pour me a drink, and have one of the drones deliver it.”
”Of course, Operative Grim. Your blood pressure appears to be rising as well, would you like me to administer a sedative?”
January 1st, 9:00 AM. Nello's Home, New York City. Interactions - None.
Buried in a gathering of pillows and blankets, one could hear a soft, muffled groan trickling between ever-shifting and folding fabric. It was in response to an alarm clock, the sound universally hated throughout the world. Indeed, Nello was willing to wager that the one commodity across the entirety of existence shared between every single individual, more so than anything else, was a silent agreement of combined hatred for that accursed sound. From the nexus of softness and comfort known as Nello's bed, a slender arm revealed itself, with snake-like scales glimmering ever so softly in the dim, morning light. He slid a clawed finger across the shape of his phone, and at the motion, the nightmarish sound came to an end. With a stretch, Nello slowly crawled out of his fortress of solitude, the confines of comfort binding him to a place he never wanted to leave. If only he could remain in that spot, in the warmth of a comfortable morning bed forever. In his case, this ludicrous notion was, in fact, a possibility. For a boy freed of the need to eat and nourish himself, this was, indeed, an option. However, his eternity had not quite reached the point yet, where Nello was willing to lock himself away and sleep for a hundred years. "Ugh," came a soft whimper as the demonic teenager revealed himself, dressed in a pair of boxer briefs. Attempting to shield himself from the morning light which caused irritation for both his skin and his eyes, the boy attempted to keep to the shadows.
True to his nature, Nello's body mimicked that of a bipedal reptilian, his frame covered in pale gray scales. They were soft, to the touch, and even warm, as might have been surprising for what was assumed to be a cold-blooded creature. A flat, scrawny stomach was bereft of both a belly button and nipples, all features which would have been an incredibly odd addition to what could be considered a lizard on two legs. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Nello rose to his feet. He padded towards the bedroom door, all the while feeling a pair of arms lazily draped around his neck. It was Nocturne, the weightless creature floating behind his host as he allowed Nello to absentmindedly drag him along. "I require energy..," the teen continued, in a dramatic fashion. He stepped through the living room, which had been turned into a gathering of books and artifacts throughout the years. It would not be far fetched to name the interior a library, due to the countless bookshelves rowing walls and open spaces alike, several boxes of trinkets gathered throughout. Amidst the organized clutter, Nello spotted his father where the man usually sat, at his desk, with stacks of books, scrolls, and other paraphernalia rowed up on the lacquered mahogany surface of his desk.
The sound of a soft jazz based piano trickled into the atmosphere, making its way through Nello's raven black hair to gently caress his ears. It was a pleasant tune indeed, one often present as a background layer for his father's work. "Good morning, habibi," the man stated, looking up from his book, if for just a moment, before lowering his eyes to its contents, once more.
"Hey, baba," Nello offered, in turn, his elbow nudging Nocturne as the creature finally let go, with a sigh. "I'm going to the magic show thing, later."
"Be careful," came a response from the human, "and don't cause any trouble," he continued, raising a brow at his son. Nafir knew that no matter how much he wanted to stress the statement, it wasn't going to help. Trouble was drawn to Nello like moths to a fire, or it was the other way around. "If you're going to live in my son, Nocturne," Nafir spoke, "you better keep him safe."
"I always keep him safe!" Nocturne responded, seeing how Nello offered the statement onward. They both heard a small chuckle from the older man before he returned to reading the book in his hands. It was an old thing, clearly, something he had found in the ruins of the Western World, undoubtedly. Nello proceeded, his small, clawed, bare feet padding against the floor as he finally reached the destination he had been moving towards. The fridge. Pulling it open, the boy's slender fingers wrapped around the cold surface of a Monster Energy drink. Pipeline Punch, to be exact. It was difficult to find such a gathering of perfect layers, all wrapped in one. Monster Energy, the drink which this specific monster had grown ever so addicted to. Such a controversial name brought it notoriety, without fault, but Nello cared little for what the slur entailed. He had been called a monster countless times, and it didn't bother him, in the slightest. Perhaps it was because he was, in fact, born human, or the blade of insults harmlessly bounced off his pale scales. One could also make the claim that he had made the word his own, Monster, something which had been depowered through the use of jokes. The moment one was able to joke about an issue, was the moment it was brought to its knees, after all. It was when the seriousness of a slur was turned into little more than a chuckle. Either way, as he opened the drink, he was blissfully hit by that wondrous hissing sound which soda made. Bringing it to his mouth, Nello sipped the contents and finally exhaled a long, pleased sigh. This was going to be a good day. It was proceeded by a quick shower, and a change into the respectable choice of jeans and a hoodie, which so often found its way to Nello's shape. Draping a shoulder bag over himself, the boy started towards the door, inhaling a deep breath. A good day, perhaps, but stepping into the sunlit morning was not a preferred outcome.
January 1st, 9:15 AM Clio's Apartment, New York City.
Today was going to be a great day. At least, Clio tried to convince herself of this as she dug herself out from under the covers. It was a lengthy process, one she had perfected. If she didn't have this system, she was certain she wouldn't get out of bed at all. Beginning with her head, she shimmied the comforter down a notch until she was ripped from her state of stuffy ease. Her torso was soon exposed. Then her legs. Finally, she kicked the sheet off of her toes and groaned, her body exposed to the cool air. She rolled towards the edge of the bed, teetered momentarily, then fell off. The shock of colliding with the carpeted floor was enough to get her into motion. Cracking her back and neck, she sat up. Her head throbbed. When the force of her will wasn't enough to subside it, her hand shot up, digging into the bedside cabinet for a bottle of Advil. Popping two pills into her mouth, she swallowed them dry. The relief wasn't instant, but she felt better nonetheless.
Using the cabinet as a handhold, she lifted herself to her feet. A braid flew into her face, and she flicked it away with a huff. She'd forgotten to put them in a scarf last night, again. They were likely unruly. The thought of redoing them made her headache expand, so, ignoring the bathroom, she shuffled to the kitchen instead.
Opening her fridge, she stared blankly at the contents. Nothing looked good, but she had to eat before she took her medication. How many times had she gone over this with her psychiatrist? Too many. Gripping the milk, she slammed it down on the counter. A bowl, and some cereal out of the cupboard, and she had a meal. She took a whiff of the liquid, then a swig after she determined it was still good. Pouring her cereal with one hand, she doused it in milk with the other. Grabbing a spoon, she left the kitchen and strode towards her desk.
It was time. Another day, another dollar.
Sitting in her swivel chair, she cracked her knuckles and typed in her passcode. The desktop wasn't anything special, but it was hers. Opening up one of her tax return documents, she began typing. Her eyes scanned over the document thoroughly. This was one of the things she was good at. Despite her trouble remembering her clients' names, she was always efficient in managing their taxes and consulting with them. Luckily, today she had no consults scheduled. It was technically her day off, but since she worked from home she rarely ever utilized it. After all, her work made her...satisfied. Not necessarily happy, but not upset by any means.
Once she was finished, she saved the document and leaned back in her chair. Not much else to do. She closed her eyes, hoping she could drift off peacefully. Five minutes into this, and she was beginning to feel antsy. That was when she felt it, the itch.
It came in waves, and though she tried to battle it off, most of the time it won out. She scowled, adjusting in her chair and trying to keep her eyes closed against the sensation. It grew in strength, starting at her temple then rushing into her fingertips. She twitched, eyes shooting open. She scratched at the pads of her fingers, but it did nothing. She needed her fix.
Stretching out her digits, she began to summon things. Random items that she had drawn her rune on. Her house keys, her dolls. It tempered it, her mind feeling renewed. The prickling subsided. She was filled with a burst of energy, but it depleted so rapidly. When it was gone, she was left with nothing but the itching. It surrounded her body, encasing her. She let out a frustrated yelp, pushing up and out of her chair. She knew what her body wanted, it was better if she just succumbed. So much simpler.
She considered it. At the end of the day, she'd be back at home, feeling so much worse than she had before. But...for a moment, she would feel like she was on top of the world. She could elongate that moment, perhaps. Utilizing her magic felt amazing, it felt empowering. Was it worth it?
Yes. A part of her screamed. She gave into it.
She summoned her outfit, slipping into the soft, mesh material with ease. She summoned the shadows from the dark corners of her apartment, the power at her fingertips feeling euphoric. She knew the longer she allowed this, the further she'd sink. At that moment, she wasn't sure if she cared.
Fleeing her building through the fire escape, she began her hunt. Villainous beings were her prey. Today was going to be a great day.
January 1st, 10:15 AM Abandoned Building, Gotham City
Finishing up arranging herself the best she can, Jean looked at her reflection in the broken mirror. She had gotten used to looking at mirrors like this one. Without wasting much more time on self-reflecting, she turned away from the mirror and began walking out of the bathroom.
The entire apartment building she was currently in was scheduled to be demolished in a week, and according to a sign outside the building, it was done to make space for some new branch of some company. Corporate powers at play, it seemed. Figuring this was a good place to take shelter at for a few days, Jean settled down there a couple of days ago, staying out of trouble and keeping to herself the best she could. She had broken into one apartment yesterday, in order to ensure she has a bit of money. She could've easily gone for more, as many were out celebrating the new year, but one apartment gave her what she considered to be more than enough.
Walking to her bag, she started looking through the things she had taken, trying to estimate how much each item might be worth, only to hear an unfamiliar sound come from the direction of the building's entrance. It was quickly followed by some talking. Moving next to the apartment door, Jean slightly opened it. There were a few people that entered the building, all of them with hard hats, and a couple seemed to be looking over some construction plans. Most likely the new owners of the lot, along with some of the construction crew. Knowing there was still a week before the actual demolition, all she needed to do was stay quiet, and they would likely leave before anything could happen.
As she gently closed the door, Jean suddenly heard a louder call. Taking a couple of steps back from the door, the entrance to the apartment was suddenly pushed wide open, with a couple of men coming inside. They both looked over Jean, before looking over the bag that laid on the ground and the makeshift bed that consisted of a large, worn out blanket, and a pillow that also looked like its in poor quality. One of the men seemed to wonder what to do, while the other said nothing and simply exited the apartment. Jean looked at the one who remained, and stayed as still as she could. Maybe if it looked like she was completely innocent, then they would just kick her out without any further trouble.
The man that left the apartment before came back, followed by one of the construction workers who had the plans at hand. It became it was a woman, and she certainly did not like seeing Jean "Yes? What is this?" She looked over Jean as she asked, before raising her hand, preventing the others from answering "I'll tell you what it is. It's a rat. One that most certainly was sent to find any problems in the building, so our construction won't begin in time. And then the damned meta-supporters would be able to get their papers straight in order to put in their request to make the lot into a shelter for the poor. Well I won't let them. This is my future exclusive building. Take the rat somewhere else, and make sure no one hears from her again. Oh, and toss the bag to make sure no evidence of any faults get left behind."
After the woman finished speaking, she quickly left the apartment, clearly thinking she is too busy to stick around. The two guys just looked at each other for a moment, before the first one started stepping towards the bag, clearly intending to follow the orders, while the other one started walking towards Jean.
"Please! I'm no rat! I'm just homeless! I took shelter here because I thought it would be safe for a night or two!" She called to the two. They stopped for a moment, with the one who approached her shaking his head slightly "Sorry miss. Orders are orders" he told her, before taking another step to get close enough to grab her. She didn't want to use her powers, and yet she knew she couldn't stop both at the same time without using them. Putting her right hand behind her back, she took a couple of steps back, distancing herself from the guy in front of her, while looking at the area around the bag. Finding the best potential, her hand would glow for a moment.
A loose nail in the floor would suddenly drop out of its place, and the bag put enough pressure on the floor to make that collapse under it, falling to what was likely a half basement. With a bag-sized hole now in the floor, the man who went to check the bag bent down, trying to reach the bag, while the man who was coming to Jean just looked confused at the whole scenario "Rotting building" He muttered under his breath, before making another approach towards Jean. The girl took another step backwards, and this time, she stepped on an actual bit of floor that had rotted away, and her leg went straight through it, trapping her in the spot.
"Ah!" She called out, before looking at the guy who now managed to grab a proper holding of her arm "Sorry miss" He said again. Without thinking about it too much, Jean used her power again, this time causing a couple of ceiling nails to come loose and drop out of their place. The man, clearly shocked at the sudden glow of her hand, let go and stepped back "She's a Meta!" He shouted out loud, but didnt have time to make a run for it, as the ceiling came apart, and began collapsing onto the apartment. Jean cursed herself as rubble started to come into the apartment from above, and did her best to defend herself against it. The two men, in the meanwhile, appeared to disappear under the falling rubble, and Jean herself wondered if she would get buried under the same rubble.
This was as far away from staying hidden as she could get, without a shred of doubt.
January 1st, 10:26 AM (Eastern USA) Justice Station, Space
On the command deck of Justice Station, the headquarters of the Justice League, red warning lights lit and klaxons blared. Computer screens diverted to emergency protocols, displaying the immanent threat to the space station. "PROJECTILE INBOUND," displayed the monitors, as automated systems shouted the same message over the intercom systems. Automated defense systems fired, but whatever was speeding toward the station was too small and too fast for them to destroy it.
Detailed analysis only provoked more questions. The projectile was radioactive, that was for certain. It energy signature was consistent with that of a thermonuclear detonation, only it was moving, rather than static. No launch had been detected, either. It was like a living bomb was heading straight for Justice Station.
And then, just as quickly as it had appeared on their systems, it stopped. The radiation signature did not disappear, it just stopped. Barely a meter from the station itself, this nuclear threat merely hovered, only moving to keep pace with the station as it sailed through Earth's orbit. Exterior cameras scanned the space outside the station for whatever this thing was, and eventually they found the anomaly that they had been searching for.
It was a man. Or rather, a statue resembling a man, carved from shining black stone. It even wore a cream-colored suit and collared shirt, though it wasn't wearing shoes. It hovered just outside one of the major airlock hatches, yellow eyes burning in the vacuum of space. Then it moved, such hesitation in its movement that it seemed almost cautious. The statue-man merely knocked against the airlock hatch with the back of its fist, as though it were knocking on the front door of a house, sending a reverberating clanging echoing through the station's halls.
January 1st, 8:04 AM (Central Standard Time) Outlaws Supernatural Consultative Services, Hub City Interacting with: @Tim
The Wedge.
Most people painted it as a hellhole, devoid of any and all law and filled with the undesirable and poverty stricken, where people kick puppies for fun and shank tourists. In all reality, most of the bad folks had relocated to Hell's Corner, and the majority of the Wedge's citizens were... Mostly law abiding. People mostly just minded their own business these days, what with the military moving in and out due to the city being so close to the Scar. Of course, the Wedge had already gained its reputation, and even many years later it still held a half-false status as a series of slum tenement buildings and offices packed to the brim with the lowest of scum.
One of those slummy offices was a repurposed two story warehouse, the steel walls oozing with chipped paint that once would've been snow white but had now faded into an almost beige coloring. Out front was a large wooden sign, made to look like something that would hang outside of an old west saloon. The words painted in red on the sign were flanked by two stylized revolver chambers, and the words themselves simply read "The Outlaws" with "Supernatural Consultative Services" below it in finer print.
The first story of the building was a workshop/garage/armory, with the massive camper van dubbed the Desperado ready to roll out and the work-in-progress Highwayman close behind it. One of the two owners of the building, Leonardo Cash, was currently working on the latter car. They had just gotten the scrap heap a month back, and so far it seemed like it would be a hot minute before it got on the road again, especially with all the enhancements they were making.
At the other end of the first floor was a living room of sorts, with two chairs and a sofa set up in front of a flatscreen TV, a coffee table not too far away from the seats. Next to the TV was a refrigerator, packed to the brim with leftover pizza and cold sodas, with a Chinese takeout box waaaaay in the back that was starting to get a bit moldy. Dave and Leo had no clue how it got there and were waiting for the other to mention it. So far, neither had.
Walking down the stairs from the second story was David O'Rinn, the co-owner of the shop, who was just rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He stood there half naked, in all his glory with his Mickey Mouse boxers, and glanced at Leo who was working on the Highwayman. With a sigh and a mumbled "could've kept the noise down a little," he walked over to the fridge and opened it up to grab breakfast. Pulling out a Coca-Cola with one hand and a slice of three meat pizza with the other, David closed the fridge and plopped himself onto the sofa with a grunt, biting into his pizza and setting his drink down. Kicking his feet up onto the table, he grabbed the remote and turned the volume up.
"-milies as we listened to the reports come in from Hub City." It was a morning talk show, and judging by what they showed next, they were talking about how it's been a whole ten years since the end of the Two Month War. Despite himself, David let out a huff of annoyance.
"Oh, yada yada, you assholes weren't there. Probably safe up in your penthouses in New York. Next!" He clicked over to the next channel.
The next channel had just started playing an enthusiastic ad for a monster truck show. "TRUCKS! TRUCKS! TRUCKS! COME ON DOWN TO HUBERT MEMORIAL STADIUM ON JANUARY 10TH TO SEE MONSTER TRUCKS IN ACTION! ALL FOR THE LOW PRICE OF TWENTY DOLLARS PER TICKET!" To top it all off, they showed footage from the last show they did in town, with massive trucks completely wrecking everything from a bunch of practice dummies to minivans. David grinned.
He turned over his shoulder, yelling at his partner so that he could be heard over the noise. "YO LEO! WE SHOULD HIT UP THAT MONSTER TRUCK SHOW! IT'S IN TOWN NEXT WEEK!"
December 31st, 11:51 PM In the middle of Atlantic Ocean
“I suppose whatever sea creature was down there, it’s gone now. Still, better safe than sorry. You have our thanks, Wonder Woman,” the naval officer said in her earpiece.
A strange invention, Diana thought. Conversations should be face to face, not this nonsocial exchange. She inhaled the salty air of the sea. Whatever had appeared on the radar had swum dangerously close to the aircraft carriers. Moving more like a tactical individual than the mind of an animal. She had been ready to dive in, when it disappeared. On her island, some of the most dangerous creatures lived in the sea, so when the Justice Station got the call, she wasted no time responding. Standing on one of the ships, she was just about to fly home, when a strange sound accompanied the wind. Suddenly a massive hand grabbed her in the back of the head and slammed her into the runway with tremendous force. For a second the world was a fuzzy blur, but she was instantly alert. She tried to focus and suddenly tasted blood. It had been a while since last time, but Diana was bleeding. Something big still had a hold of her, pressing her head into the metal surface, bending it downwards. She had never felt an opponent like this. The viciousness. The sheer power. But she was an Amazon and used her limbs to move slightly and throw her attacker off balance. Right when she felt an opening, another hand shot down, grabbed her one wrist and stretched out her arm. Bondage was the cruelest of fates for an Amazon, and this creature knew it. “Ares…” Wonder Woman spat it like a curse word and managed to turn her head, though he still clutched it. The God of War gave a smile, seething with sadistic pleasure. “Here I am, my child. You have been splitting mountains just to find me.” She felt his foot on top of her spinal and how he pressed her head further down. Bolts started to shoot up from the ship’s hall. She tightened her muscles. If she relaxed even for a second, her arm would break against the might pressing down on it. Her fueling rage kept her awake when her body demanded air. She hadn’t fought her entire life just to let it end on one of man’s floating vessels. “Look at you,” Ares' echoing voice said. “Struggling in captivity. Barely holding on to consciousness while the pain builds up. This is the weakness of your people, little princess. You do not know when to forfeit. You always keep going, no matter the odds, no matter the hurt. But you forget: I am the God of War; the more you fight, the stronger I become. So keep grinding your teeth, keep tightening that strong back of yours.” “I will. I am an Amazon; you will tire before I do,” she replied, while continuing to resist his grip. “Oh, I do not intend to stay long. Just long enough to tell you something. Do you remember the day you challenged me?” “You mean when I humiliated you, since you were forced to flee in disgrace?” “Yes. You were barely a woman, and yet that day you would have killed me. I saw it in those big, dark blue eyes. Here you are: older, stronger, more mature and immensely less naïve. How is it that today, I can take you down with little effort?” Diana searched her feelings and found no answer. Even in immense pain her mind was sharp, and yet she came up empty. “I suspect The God of War believes he has the answer to that.” she teased. “You fail because in your heart you have forgotten what you fight for," Ares said. His voice was like a roar, and his face riddled with scars. "And these… little people you call friends have thrown you against obstacle after obstacle. Battle after battle. They wear you down, tire you out to the point that you can not fight for what really matters: Themyscira. You think I can not return there? I will enslave your feeble-minded sisters anew. Subjugation is the destiny of Amazons, it always was." “You know nothing about my people! Fear has clouded everything since you lost your first war,” she sneered. “Me? A god feeling fear?” "You feared me before I was even born! The union between Amazon and your big brother. You dreaded what such a child might do. But I know exactly what. It is my fate. I will consume everything you are. I will become the Goddess of War.” For a moment a look of doubt came over Ares and he loosened his grip. Diana slammed her free arm down, and an explosion of plates and sparks shot up at her opponent. Instantly she jumped up in his face and delivered a fist into his breastplate. The giant man flew backwards, until his legs halted the fall while ripping through the aircraft carrier. For another second a glowing red print was where Diana’s knuckles had connected. Ares huffed like no animal ever could and raised his large hand at her. “I will not kill you. I will let Man’s world tear you apart. Let it sink your home and extinguish your ferocity. Only then will I return to step on the last few pieces of the so-called Wonder Woman.” The god leaped off the ship into the sky and then he was gone. Diana fell back on her knees and tried to regain some strength. Amongst all her thoughts, a growing doubt had manifested itself.
January 1st, 8:05 AM (Central Standard Time) Outlaws Supernatural Consultative Services, Hub City Interacting with @Simple Unicycle
Leo rolled out from underneath the car, welding torch in hand, sitting up and flipping open his Welding Mask. Aside from the welding mask and gloves, was wearing a sleeveless t-shirt, cargo pants, and athletes shoes (his normal attire). He'd been working on The Highwayman today since 6 AM, a substantial process in and of itself. The car was little more than scrap in it's current state, and the restoration will take time.
"Hey. I was listening to that, you know."
He set down the torch and mask, getting up and walking to the fridge. He grabbed a coke and took a seat next to his friend, cracking open the cold one with the coffee table and taking a sip.
"And you know that these aren't the kind of monsters we're in the market for. Besides, 20$ a ticket? Do you got that kind of cash to spare?"
January 1st, 8:05 AM (Central Standard Time) Outlaws Supernatural Consultative Services, Hub City Interacting with: @Tim
David continued to flip through channels, going from the monster trucks to an infomercial to a kids show and finally landing on a music video before Leo took a seat next to him. He considered his friend's words for a moment, thinking back. "Say, didn't we still have a few bucks left from that..." He trailed off, wondering where that money went, before snapping his fingers in recollection. "Wait, no, we spent that on parts for the Highwayman. Shit."
He took a swig from his drink and finished up his slice of pizza. Getting up to grab another slice, he continued to speak. "Anyway, I know those aren't the monsters we usually handle, but you have to admit it. Seeing massive trucks just completely obliterate a bunch of tiny shit is awesome." He took another bite of pizza and talked around it. "Either way, next job we get, we're taking it. I wanna see some monster trucks."
January 1st, 8:05 AM (Central Standard Time) Outlaws Supernatural Consultative Services, Hub City Interacting with @Simple Unicycle
"We literally fight against the forces of Chaos several times a month, and watching a big fuckoff truck running over tiny shit is what gets your blood pumping? Now, if we were driving said truck, that'd be a different story..."
Leo takes another few sips of the coke, resting against the side of the couch. The TV was displaying a music video from Karen Hernandez, the biggest hit pop artist, possibly music artist in general, since the Two-Month War. Leo surmised that she must have been much younger than him when the war happened. He couldn't imagine being that young and experiencing that horror.
"... Well, at least some people adjusted well... Heard she was from here."
January 1st, 8:05 AM (Central Standard Time) Outlaws Supernatural Consultative Services, Hub City Interacting with: @Tim
"Huh?" David finally noticed what was playing. "Oh, her." Despite himself, he began tapping his foot slightly to the music. Oh God, this song was his jam. Of course, no one but him knew he was a Karen Hernandez fan, and he knew that if Leo or any of his associates knew they would never let him live it down. So he slowly picked up the remote and went back to channel surfing. Still, he decided to grace with a response.
"Yeah, I was there for the Battle of Hub City, spent most of the night holed up in a shelter. Just sitting there waiting to find out if we'd been liberated or damned. Can't imagine what it would've been like for a kid." Technically speaking, he was a kid then, but he meant a younger kid. Having all that you know get destroyed right in front of your eyes isn't easy. He should know.
He shook his head, pushing those thoughts away. Finishing his pizza and drink, David sighed and looked to Leo. "Well, was nice catching up with you bro, but I'm gonna head upstairs and wait for someone to call. Just yell if you need me." With that, he pushed himself up off the sofa and walked up the stairs to get dressed and lounge around in their office.
January 1st, 9:50 AM. Streets, New York City. Interactions - None.
Sipping his drink, Nello exhaled a soft breath. Before he left the apartment, he had reached for a jacket and slipped into its confines. January wasn't exactly known for its warmth, which prompted the demonic boy to dress for the occasion. It was a rather thin piece of fabric, to be sure, which complimented a sweater worn beneath. His regeneration did not factor in more warmth than anyone else, sadly. In fact, he would consider himself lucky to be warm-blooded in the first place, considering his reptilian body. Being a demon managed to circumvent the cold-blooded nature of his apparent kin. Even so, the sun remained an issue, one which kept glaring at the boy's exposed tail, and his snout. Throughout the months, Nello and his father had managed to adapt the boy's clothes to a new physiology, and this involved a pair of fingerless leather gloves, allowing for comfort on his hands. Where Nello possessed three fingers and a thumb, it was a bit more difficult for him to find gloves in stores. One could claim that life had reached new heights of certain difficulties, once Nello donned the mantle of a non-human beast, but he would argue that without it, there was no life to speak of. He would have passed, by now, and that was assured unanimously among doctors.
The difficult part of being a monster, however, came into blatant view once Nello heard someone call out for him. "Hey!" A voice struck, slicing through the gentle morning breeze. "The fuck are you doing here!?" It continued, embodied by a man no older than twenty by human standards.
"Here we go," Nocturne rolled his eyes, already annoyed by the sun. "Just kill the fucker and move on."
Pausing in his stride, Nello looked out from below his hood, seeing the young man approaching with zealous intent. At the man's side, there were two others, where all three painted a picture quite stereotypical of alley thugs. "We're not gonna' let no monster piece of shit walk through our neighborhood, without paying a toll."
Bursting out in laughter, Nocturne nudged Nello's side. "Can you believe this shit?" He asked, "They're not even trying to be original."
Clearing this throat, Nello rubbed the back of his head. "What's the toll?" The boy asked, seeing how his three new companions looked to one another, as if they weren't expecting that answer. Nello was being oddly compliant, if nothing else.
"A broken arm," came an answer. It was getting exceedingly more obvious that a desire for misconduct was their main goal, as if that notion had not presented itself on the nose, before this confirmation. Attempting to think of a good come-back, Nello found himself stuck between a rock, and a very hard place. In an attempt to even the distance between his own home and Makaya's apartment building, Nello was forced to venture through the less populated areas of New York City, which had lead to outcomes like these more than once, in the past.
"Uhm..," the boy tried, taking a short step back as the three men shortened the distance between themselves, and him. "No way we can come to a deal?" Nello tried, a small, sheepish smile forming on his lips.
"What the fuck are you doing!?" Nocturne exclaimed, flailing as he pointed at the three hoodlums, "fuck a bitch up, already!"
Before the conversation could continue, Nello heard yet another voice which pierced the scene, where he turned to see two large, beastly minotaurs. Gulping, the boy's eyes widened. "What the fuck do you three think you're doing!?" One of the minotaurs exclaimed, rapidly walking towards Nello before stepping in front of him. "You want to pick on someone your own size?"
"How about you two cows fuck off?" One of the hoodlums returned, reaching for a knife under his coat.
"Uh, guys..," Nello tried, but was ignored by all five. He was quickly brushed aside in lieu of the new conflict, the incredibly aggressive exchange now shared between two large minotaurs and three well-trained humans.
"You think you humans can just mess with anyone you like, huh?" One of the minotaurs spoke, cracking his knuckles.
"You freaks don't even belong here!" A hoodlum spat, brandishing his knife.
"Dudes, I don't think you need to..," Nello felt a hand on his shoulder before he was gently pushed behind one of the minotaurs, like a child pulled out of a conversation between adults.
"Shut up, this will be fucking epic." Nocturne stated with gleeful intent as the trouble Nello had caused by virtue of his mere presence began boiling over. "A thousand on the hot ass barnyard!" The demon continued, slapping a hand onto Nello's shoulder where the boy stood, sighing as he watched the event unfold. Sipping his drink, quietly, the young demonic teen slumped his shoulders and listened to his attackers bickering with his beastly saviors.
He still didn't understand it. Why were the guardians so fixed on him going to earth? Killowog? Did they seem to think that it would have some sort of special place in his heart as the homeland of his father? He brushed off the thought. Never before had be been to earth, but after what had been declared a rather lackluster performance during training, they were sending him to a low priority planet in order to get his bearings.
His mother, laughing at what the guardians at told him, wished him luck on his journey. She had duties to attend to on Vespasi. Despite this, he didn't travel with nothing.
He carried some artifacts, notes that his father had on other guardians of Earth. It wasn't much. The notes were like a journal that had just been started. Only a few names and details lay inside, but it would have to do for now. At least until he found himself.
Preston, we are nearing Sector 2814, cluster AS-740, Sol System, Earth
The ring he wore on his finger glowed bright as it spoke to him. His fist tightened, but he showed no signs on hesitance.
As he had expected, the blue planet had seen some better days, but it was quite obvious that it was still being inhabited. Scans indicated breathing life on the planet, as well as life in the upper atmosphere.
Preston slowed. It would be better to announce his presence than fly in and be attacked by the government.
His right hand rose to his mouth, speaking into his ring like a communicator. "Ring, broadcast on open signals, nearby ones. I don't want to invade anyone's leisure time."
It blinked once, but he never spoke. He had to remind himself, this was like other planets. Earth was apparently much more isolated compared to somewhere like Vespasi. Given the lack of satalites and stations further than Mars, it was likely they hadn't developed travel beyond their own star system, much less likely outside of this cluster.
High radiation levels detected.
Something outside of the atmosphere was incredibly dangerous, as the levels read. He should investigate it before it hit the earth.
Much to his surprise, it appeared to be a man. Or, something upright and bipedal like himself. He was on the side of a space station, politely knocking on the air hatch. He was dressed, even. How strange were his first minutes on this Earth.
"Excuse me." Preston spoke suddenly. "I don't believe that humans can breathe in space. Can I ask what you're doing here?"
January 1st, 10:30 AM Justice Station, Earth Orbit
Custos floated slowly in his aquatic chamber aboard the Justice Station. It had taken a lot of convincing to get Grim to add the large, water-filled chamber to the station, but after the Atlantean Revolt, the former spy was happy to have somewhere to go. He could have found a place on the surface. Gotham, New York, Halifax. Even outside the shattered North America. There were countless coastal cities that could have used his help, and even scattered colonies of displaced Atlanteans who were still loyal to the missing king. But many of those places had heroes of their own, and none of them needed the skills of a displaced spy. He was lost, floating along in this strange new world like he was floating in the chamber which cradled him now.
A sudden, shrieking alarm sounded, bringing Custos back to the present and pulling him out of his melancholy. Rocketing towards the surface, he called the currents of the tank to bring him his mask, grateful that he was already in his suit. Fitting the tentacled mask to his face and breaking the surface of the tank, Kraken examined a nearby monitor. Nuclear threat, coming up through the atmosphere of the earth. Heading straight for the station. Unknown origin, the tracking systems of the Station were having trouble pinning it to any known launch site. It was coming in impossibly fast, Kraken braced himself for an impact...
Nothing. No explosion, no impact, no breach. Wasting no time, Kraken took off down a hallway, looking for a viewport to try and see the direction the threat had come from. Did it miss? Did the warhead fail? Or... Kraken came to a halt outside one of the interior airlocks, glimpsing a view of the outside. There was a man out there. Knocking on the airlock. Another alarm sounded, different this time. Proximity alert. Something else was coming in. A familiar flash of Emerald light, bringing a disbelieving laugh to Kraken's lips and a swell of joy to his heart. There was a Lantern out there! Quickly, Kraken keyed on his communicator, sending out a broadband message to all the League members.
"This is Kraken, calling in League support to the Station. We have a potential situation, some kind of Nuclear Man literally knocking at our door. And we have some other company as well. Green Lantern inbound, hopefully with some good news for us. Anyone who can get here, I recommend doing so."
A green flash divided the clouds over expansive muddy midwestern fields. An emerald meteor came crashing down, and smashed into the dirt, causing an explosion of dust and rocks. The smoke clear and there was an orange-skinned woman with vibrant brown hair that fell just past her shoulders. She was wearing all purple clothes, composed of a top that was cropped at the ribs, a miniskirt and purple boots. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing heavily. A few moments later, she stirred and her eyes fluttered open. Her eyes glowed bright green, and it was quite striking to see the light vanish and reappear with every groggy blink. She really needed to work on her landings. Still, she managed to slow her descent by a lot, and broke her fall with a shield. It was only unlucky that she banged her head, but the Emerald within her seemed to patch that up rather quickly.
Standing, she began wiping the mud off of herself and looking around. It was a barren place with no one in sight. The mist was thick here, and after a few moments of walking, Starfire had noticed someone standing quite still in the dirt. She doubted they would understand her Tamaran language. Fortunately, given that she was being trained to be a diplomat before she was...well, she was being trained to be a diplomat. That training hardly even began, but the first thing her mother taught her was the ability to learn languages. In order to do so, one must place their right index finger underneath the chin, or wherever the vocal cords were, and the left thumb against their forehead, or wherever the brain was. Then, place one must place their mouth upon the other person's mouth, and create a bridge of energy between the two. A few moments later, and one would be able to speak their language! It was quite fascinating how versatile the energy of the stars really was.
Starfire didn't want to startle the first native she saw. "Anna!" She called out a greeting to the distant figure. The figure turned slowly and began walking towards her. No...galloping? It was an odd way of moving, that was for sure. The figure seemed very intent on reaching Starfire, as quickly as they could move.
"Anna! Jenzk o Wenlendmun-" Her greeting was interrupted as the figure grew closer. Their hair was matted and patchy, with sunken eyes and a face that looked disfigured. Well, the first part of diplomacy was not being judgemental. The hideous fish creatures of Chtho'an were the friendliest in the galaxy, according to legend. Beauty is subjective, for all the species. The person, who seemed to be a man (though she could be wrong) gallopped ever closer.
"Anna?" She said again, and he slowed down a little, hunching over as he got closer. Now she could do her trick that allowed her to learn the language of any species she came into contact with. Carefully, Starfire smiled, and placed her index finger under his chin, and her thumb on his forehead. She drew her lips in close and-
"Aaeeiigh!" Suddenly, his teeth were clamped upon her neck. It was like nothing she had ever felt. Poison, or acid, or perhaps just raw biting power! His teeth dug in, and took some of her orange flesh with them. A beast? A savage? Either way, Starfire was taken totally by surprise. Still a little groggy from the fall, she had no time to put her defense up, either. She wrenched him off of her, and her fists became aglow with green energy. Hard Light formed around her knuckles and she punched him across the face. He stumbled back onto the ground.
She didn't want a diplomatic incident so early...but from the records she had read (apparantly outdated!) this was about what a human looked like. They came in shades of light beige to dark brown according to the record. This one was oddly grey now that she looked at him closely. That bite really, really hurt! Must be sound kind of flesh-eating poison. She heard the humans of this world were relatively fragile. A bite from this creature were most likely have their entire throat be torn out! This was no human at all.
"Orve sthi varn carrivelos!" She spat down at him, giving him a chance to run away. Instead he came in for another bite. This time, she was ready. Her body was now covered in a thin, invisible layer of Hard Light. Not only was her skin naturally resistant, now his poison would bounce off. He clamped down on her forearm, and just like she suspected, his teeth were too weak to penetrate her armor. And he was too stupid to realize this. She punched him, once, twice, three times. She knew nothing about this planet. Even if he was not human, perhaps he was someone's pet, or maybe he was going through a bout of madness. Diplomacy was key! Her normal punches were enough to get him off of her. He fell down again, and Starfire ignited two orbs of glowing green energy underneath her purple boots. They elevated her off the ground about four inches. Like skates, she rolled them underneath her heels and toes and leaned forward, causing her to glide above the surface. After about a minute she was going forty miles per hour across the wasteland.
There were more of these creatures scattered about and all of them looked just as friendly. Unbeknownst to Starfire she was heading east. All she wanted to do was get away from this awful place. Hopefully, she thought, the whole planet wasn't like this. If she were a better Tamaran she would have circled around to the half of the planet submerged in darkness, and seen the glittering lights of civilization from far above. But Starfire wasn't that clever and wasn't skilled enough to stop herself from crashing down. So onward she went. Travel far enough in any direction and she would reach something, eventually. Time was not of the essence, as long as the sun of this planet didn't burn out (which Starfire estimated would take at least a few more billion years), she could travel freely. All she needed came from the sky.
This was a horrible planet, Starfire thought resentfully to herself.
Earth seemed to be full of nothing but cruel savages so far! Starfire was still holding her neck with her right hand, where one of the natives bit her after she tried to commune with him. It hurt very much, and Starfire needed to find a safe place. This whole planet could not be this hostile, surely? She was speeding across and through a grassy field with trees sparsely dotted around. Beneath her boots were two glowing green orbs, and she was bouncing and skating across the grass leaving behind a trail of scorch marks. Like flaming roller skates, she moved one leg infront of the other.
Finally, she found a road. The monsters had stopped pursuing her, it seemed, and the world around her began to look healthier. For two days she travelled this way, not pausing or stopping. She came across a few small villages and towns, but they seemed scared of her and she couldn’t get close without them firing her weapons, so she continued onward. She could not communicate. It seems like the humans have a mouth so if Starfire could just place her mouth on one of these humans and activate the Language Mimicry technique this whole thing would be a lot easier. But they were so hostile! Perhaps they’ve never seen a Tamaran blazing across the concrete leaving behind a green trail of fire.
This bite was beginning to itch and Starfire didn’t feel safe sleeping in the wilderness, lest a stray monster attack her. These villages were small and tiny in comparison to the glittering metropoli of her homeworld. Surely, these humans must have some kind of large city?
She crested a hill and in the distant she saw massive concrete skyscrapers. There had to be someone who could help her there. But it proved to be far more densely populated than she realized- even more so than her own cities. People seemed confused as they saw her orange skin, glowing green eyes, and trail of flame, though Starfire wasn’t sure why, as this technique was mundane on her homeworld. How else would someone get around!?
Something slammed into her. Knocking her high into the air, she crashed down on the ground in a vibrant green explosion as the orbs beneath her feet disintegrated violently. A bright yellow vehicle of some kind? It reminded her of the war machines she read about that the enemies of the empire used to have. The wind was knocked out of her from the impact. Those steel structures she had seen alongside the road- apparently they moved! What use would civilians have of war transports? They scraped along the ground, as well, they did not float. This place was bizarre, she realized. From wasteland to cityscape, it was no homogeneous pattern of flatland and city like her homeworld. She was totally out of her depth! Stumbling to her feet, the person got out of the vehicle and looked confused and concerned why traces of green embers rested on their hood. Another vehicle screeched to a stop behind her and a loud honk erupted from within. Some kind of sonar blast!? Turning around, she fired a small Starbolt at the vehicle. It backed up and slammed into another of its kind. The driver, seemingly now terrified that Starfire had thwarted their assault, got out of the car and bolted away. The other people in the area began to scatter aswell. Perhaps, she thought with growing dread in her heart, she had made a mistake. Her hips were sore from the impact of that vehicle, and her neck wound was disturbed, beginning to bleed. Eyes wide, she began running down a nearby alley way.
Nothing! Nothing was happening. There were no villains out, no kooks looking to tussle. The streets were strangely calm, and it was driving Makya mad. Her pacing grew frantic as if it had been normal in the first place. But it was normal, wasn't it? Yes, yes it was. There was nothing wrong with walking, back and forth, in a neat line. She had to get some exercise in while all the criminals were busy napping! Stupid, stupid swindlers. This was why she went out at night, but she had been so anxious. So needy. She just had to use her magic. It felt good, and she wanted to feel good. Her fingertips buzzed, and she tapped them against the air as her arms swung. Something had to happen. If nothing happened in the next ten--no, five! If nothing happened in the next five seconds, she'd...she'd, she didn't know what she'd do!
Five...Makaya looked around, stopping her pacing for just a moment to monitor her surroundings. She was near the edge of the building, but she heard nothing.
Four...Makaya grumbled a swear under her breath.
Three...Nothing, nothing, nothing! Makaya's hands balled into fists at her sides, but she couldn't hold them. She had to move, so she began tapping her waist.
Two...A distant honk, the scattered screams, and sounds of frantic fleeing. Yes. YES! This was what she needed! Makaya started in a sprint towards the other building and took a leap onto its roof. Another dash, another leap, her legs building speed. Nothing superhuman, but quite impressive for a mage who sat on her ass bookkeeping most of the day.
As she was leaping between buildings, she looked down below to see a woman with orange skin making a mad dash...somewhere. The sounds of people fleeing had come from around this area, she was running away. If Makaya put two and two together...
"Culprit!" A girlish giggle escaped her lips. As soon as she landed on the next roof, she jumped off. Using the shadows formed between the buildings, she made a platform halfway down and used it to cushion her fall. Lowering herself to the ground, she quickly summoned up a barrier of shadow between the woman and the back of the alley. Hopefully, this would trap her.
"Stop right there!" Makaya said in a booming voice, though she couldn't keep the serious tone for long. Breaking into a snicker, she waited for the orange-skinned woman to turn. This would be an interesting battle.
The orange-skinned woman skidded to a stop as she realized she had been travelling into a dead end. Suddenly, there was a voice of a woman saying something, and a barrier of...pure darkness? What kind of wizardry was this? Turning around, still holding her bitten neck, Starfire backed up against the brick wall. She needed to distract this woman so she could escape up the wall of this alley. Raising her free hand, she began charing up a Starbolt. Releasing it, the green flame exploded upon the shadowy wall. Hopefully, the light would burn away the darkness.
Whatever happened, Starfire turned around and placed several Starpoints a few feet apart from each other up the brick wall behind her. Small, glowing handholds formed out of thin air. She began to climb up, leaping from green orb to green orb that was lodged in the wall. She let go her neck and used both hands to climb, but the blood began to leak from her neck in the process. What kind of bite was it? Must be poisonous, or acidic, or something! Maybe that person just had incredibly strong jaws… still, the pain flared up again as she tried climbing away from the bizarrely dressed wizard of darkness. ”Mayah-leo!” She called out, pleading for the woman to leave her alone as she tried to climb up to the rooftops.
A swath of light shined through the shadow wall as soon as the flames made contact. An effective maneuver certainly, but a weak distraction. Rather than releasing her construct, Makaya molded it into a set of stairs that connected with the rooftop. She climbed them with ease, making her way to the top and staring down at her foe. She noticed the blood glistening on her neck as her hair swayed, the panicked look on her face. Huh, what a strange enemy.
Reaching down, Makaya extended a hand to the woman. A small grin lit up her face as she did so, her other hand dancing along her side.
As Starfire made her way to the top, she gasped when the skull-faced woman suddenly appeared on the rooftop. Smiling, she reached a hand down to help her up. Starfire hesitated. This woman has not done anything to harm her, she thought. Perhaps it is just the language barrier that is causing confusion. Giving a weak smile back, Starfire climbed up the last Starpoint and took the shadow-sorcerer’s hand, with her other hand on the edge of the building roof. Starfire attempted to pull herself up. ”Reyn.” She said, thanking the woman.
”I’m sorry about this, really am!” Feeling a bit less guilty, Makaya gripped the woman and threw her up, and over her shoulder. It was a practiced move, and the lady was surprisingly light. ”That being said, don’t know if you’re evil or not, so until I do know, you’re going to have to stay still.” A laugh, and her hand rose up in a half shrug. Extending her magic, the woman’s shadow came to life. Splitting in half, it wrapped around her legs and arms like a pair of cuffs. ”I’d call the police, but...you don’t seem to understand what’s going on.”
Starfire yelped as she was tossed up and came crashing down onto her back on the rooftop. Suddenly, her legs were bound together by her own shadow. Thoroughly perplexed by this betrayal, the purple-clad woman raised herself into a sitting position and began applying green bright energy onto her shadow trap, attempting to break free. Briefly, she wondered if she would ever have a shadow again. It would certainly be odd, but it would be worth it to escape. The emerald Hard-Light began trying to pry the shadows off her leg. This woman was not very nice, Starfire thought. The shadows disintegrated, and Starfire spiralled to her feet with a kick, warding off any approaches. She turned to face the woman and got into an unorthodox fighting stance. Instead of protecting her head, Starfire seemed more intent on protecting her chest and torso. Now what? She thought. She really needed to learn the language of this planet, then things might go a lot smoother. This woman had isolated herself, and it might be difficult to get another chance has good as this. All Starfire had to do to learn that language was place her right index finger under this woman’s chin, her left thumb on her forehead, and connect their mouths for a few moments, and communication would be theirs. What an impossible proposition to make via pantomime!
Starfire hoped to achieve this goal quickly. She attempted reaching her hands towards the shadow-sorcerer’s head.
”Wow! This is new, I like it!” Usually, they stayed away from her. This would make things so much simpler! Rushing forward, Makaya summoned a single dagger into her right hand. She went straight for the bottom of her hair. It would be a shame if she had to cut all of it off, but Makaya would if she struggled.
Starfire, making her approach, noticed the woman summon her dagger. Gasping that their fist fight had escalated into seemingly a knife fight, she adjusted her right hand away from the sorcerer’s face and down toward the knife. Summoning a shield of Hard Light around her right hand, the knife would graze off as Starfire wrapped her hand around the woman’s knife holding wrist. Then, she grabbed round the back of the woman’s neck, in order to then bring her knee up towards the sorcerer’s bellybutton to knock the wind out of her. It made impact.
As the woman’s knee collided with her abdomen, Makaya found herself gasping for air. She wheezed, all thoughts knocked out of her head for a moment. They came racing back as she took in a large breath. This was her fight. This was what she had wanted. Summoning her second dagger in her free hand, she ripped it through the woman’s hair. All she needed was a sliver. Out of the corner of watering eyes, she saw it. Bright red hair, falling. Disconnecting her shadow, she made it into a large catcher’s mitt behind the woman and collected the strands.
Tossing her dagger, she summoned up a doll. ”Don’t make me do this, lady!” The truth was, she wanted to do it. So, so badly.
Starfire gasped as the woman summoned yet another dagger. She summoned a protective wall of Hard-Light around her midriff to try and block the blow. Strangely, the woman missed entirely and began speaking again, getting out a small toy. Strange, Starfire thought. Well, if this was an attempt at surrender, the sorceress wasn’t making it very obvious. So Starfire delivered several knees to the woman’s tummy again, trying to stun her long enough to initiate oral contact to learn the language this woman was so fond of speaking all the time!
Damn, she really knew how to throw a knee! The edges of Makaya’s vision went black, and she spluttered, coughing up spit and perhaps a little blood. Nope, not today magical orange lady! Makaya wasn’t going to...wasn’t gonna...not that easily. Oh heavens, she was dizzy. ”Can we-” She wheezed a breath, her voice slurred due to the spit. ”Breather!” Forgetting the doll in her hand, her one scapegoat, she slumped forward onto Starfire.
Starfire noticed the woman beginning to relax, and so laid off her assault. She hoped she did not hurt her too much, but she pulled a knife on her! Starfire turned and dropped the woman onto her back. As quickly as possible, she placed her left thumb on her forehead and her right index finger under her chin. Starfire placed her lips upon her opponent and there was a flash of hot green energy in the two women’s faces. A few seconds later, Starfire retreated and stood a few feet back, getting into a defensive stance.
The new language tasted odd in her mouth. There were lot’s of strange, inelegant noises. With a curious accent, she finally spoke. ”Hello?” She said cautiously. ”Are you well? Starfire was a good ten feet back from the sorceress, and clearly tense. Her green eyes flicked down toward the shadows, watching for movement.
Makaya hadn’t been expecting a kiss. To be fair, she hadn’t really felt the woman’s lips touch her own. Her body was too busy focusing on the pain. The high she felt when using her magic slowly dripped away, until she was left cold and broken. No, no. This was Makaya’s time! She wasn’t allowed to feel this way! She groaned, rolling around once or twice. Get up, idiot! She looked like a fool, surely. Groaning, she sat up. Her gaze was still fuzzy around the edges, but she could see well enough. Her shadow mitt was still there, gripping a piece of hair. The woman was in a stance again, but she had said something in English. Huh, funny that she decided to speak now.
”What’s your deal?” Makaya hissed, and the mitt clenched as a manifestation of her own anger. ”Why didn’t you start speaking English until now?”
Starfire looked curiously down at the shadow mitt, but thought nothing of it, instead focusing more on the woman’s words.
”I did not know how to speak the English until I kissed you during our fight. It is a trick I learned long ago.” She paused, coming out of her stance and instead just standing normally.
”I just came here a few days ago.” She said, not making it obvious she was referring to the entire planet. ”Is our fight over?” Starfire asked. ”I will stop talking and continue fighting with you if that is what you wish. Though it was unkind of you to draw a blade on me.” Especially when she already had her devious shadow powers. Starfire flicked her eyes down to her own shadow, lifting her foot off the ground and checking underneath it.
Interesting. Must’ve been a form of magic. Of course, Makaya had never seen a mage with orange skin and glowing green eyes. There was research to be done when she went home.
When the woman asked if the fight was over, Makaya grinned. Perhaps there were no hard feelings between the two.Makaya had been beaten, she’d admit that...begrudgingly. The woman wasn’t trying to escape or continue the fight, so she must not be all that guilty.
There she was! She was starting to feel more like herself again. She’d been beaten and broken numerous times before, this wasn’t the worst she’d been through. Moving her mitt closer, she took the hair from inside the glove and shoved it in a secret pocket of her coat. The shadow sunk back into the ground, attaching to Makaya as if it hadn’t moved in the first place.
”For now,” She chuckled, getting onto her knees. Best to take it slow, to avoid internal damage. ”Name’s Makaya, now, care to tell me why people were running from you?”
Starfire made an apologetic face. ”Well, I think I must of scared them. They rammed into me with one of their vehicles, and then tried to do some sort of sonar attack. I fired a Starbolt to scare them away. It was all very confusing.” Starfire was down for a moment, and then perked up.
”Oh, my name is Starfire. Hello, Makaya!” She waved. It felt odd to say Starfire in this language. It was certainly shorter than the word for Starfire in Tamaran. She considered telling this woman her real name, Koriand’r, but it was hard to say in this tongue, and it wasn’t very relevant anymore anyway. Koriand’r was gone for now, Starfire felt. She’d come back later. Starfire then folded her hands behind her back and rocked on her heels, looking at the kneeling woman with her head cocked to the side.
A sonar attack from a vehicle...the honk? What a character this woman was turning out to be. Shaking her head with a grin, Makaya spat out some of the saliva that remained in her mouth. She steadily got onto one knee, then she was pushing herself up onto her feet. Her mind yearned for her to bounce around, but her body screamed to stay still for the time being. ”Nice meeting you, Starfire! Do you have a home here in New York?” She said she had arrived in the city a few days ago, but from the looks of it, she had no idea what she was doing here. Makaya considered this...she could always harbor the girl for a couple of nights. Then again, she seemed capable of defending herself. Maybe if she just gave her some cash?
Why was she being so nice to this stranger that had kneed her in the stomach? This was uncalled for. But the chick seemed so..naive. Reminded her of herself, if she were being honest. A younger, sillier version. Yes, because she was so mature. Yes she was. She was! Right? Shaking her head, she attempted to focus.
Starfire smiled and shook her head. ”No, I do not.” The smile faded into a pondering look. ”I do not have a home anywhere, not anymore.” The thought made her heart hurt, and she wore the pain on her face. Starfire didn’t say anything.
Oh...oh wow. That was saddening. Not wanting to bring the mood down further, Makaya forced a laugh. ”What’re you talking ‘bout? Mi casa es su casa!” No, no! Why was she doing this? This was a mistake. What if Starfire got into her curse ingredients? Those were so hard to come by. Stop this, stop this right no- ”We can bunk up for the time being, ‘till you find yourself a home.” She cringed slightly, but it felt like the right thing to do. With a flick of her wrist, she summoned the keys to her apartment. ”Just...keep out of my closet. And, call me Clio while we’re in the building.”
Starfire beamed. ”That’s very kind of you, Makaya!” She thought her trick might have failed, as for a moment there, her ability to understand Makaya faded away. Fortunately it came back just in time to hear the most important part.
”I’m sure I can find myself a home somewhere. This is very kind of you. I was worried you might be angry because I struck you many times. But you are even kinder than I could have hoped.” This was joyous news! Perhaps Starfire was not so bad at diplomacy after all. All she had to do was assault enough people and eventually one of them would be her friend!
”Do you think the others will be angry at me?” She brought her hand up to the bite on her neck, which she had forgotten about during the fight. Now, the pain was back, and Starfire winced. ”The person who hit me with a vehicle, and the one attacked me with sonar, and the one who bit me might not be as forgiving as you. I do not want to put you in any danger incase they come after me to seek satisfaction.” If she was really going to be friends with Makaya, or Clio, she would have to consider her needs as well.
Makaya went to wave it off, but paused as Starfire talked about the person that bit her. Everything else made a bit of sense, but she wasn’t entirely sure about the biting. ”A human bit you? Let me see.” She neared Starfire, looking her up and down for the wound. It must’ve been that bleeding patch on the back of her neck. ”Turn around...when did it happen?” The green-eyed woman obeyed, turning her back to Makaya and tilting her head to one side so her new friend could see the bite mark. ”It happened almost immediately after I got here, about 53 hours ago. New York is much nicer than that other place. Now, after meeting you, I suspect that the area I landed in was not a normal place at all, Makaya.” She raised her hand and pointed toward the west. Seeing the splendor of the skyscrapers in the distance, the bustling streets, and the expansive fields of green surrounding the city, the dusty wastelands now filled Starfire with a sense of dread and loss. The bite was that of a human, with imprints of human teeth. It was bleeding, and there were flecks of bubbling black ickor around each mark. Starfire winced as she moved her neck, sucking in air through her teeth.
Makya held back a swear, gritting her teeth to prevent herself from saying something completely idiotic. A humanoid creature had done this, but the ickor pointed towards something of demonic origin. Starfire must’ve ‘landed’ in the Rift. What a terrible first impression! If this girl were otherworldly--which seemed more and more likely by the minute, she was probably expecting something a lot nicer when she first came down. ”Here...let’s see if we can’t get you patched up.” She wasn’t an expert by any means, but the ingredients she used to reverse Necrosis would probably aid in the healing. ”Follow the leader!”
She began strolling towards the edge of the rooftop, her strides proud and powerful as if her stomach pain were nonexistent. As she hit the edge, she summoned up another staircase. Walking down nonchalantly, she waited for Starfire.
Following the leader.” She responded seriously. Starfire decided to step on the shadow, feeling it shift and then harden rapidly beneath her feet, like compacted sand. It was tentative steps at first, the woman not being sure how Mayaka’s magic would work.
Finally planting her feet on the ground, Starfire said, “I do not believe we need to place any patches upon the bite, Mayaka. I believe I only need to rest for a minute or two, and the wound should heal.” Starfire held her hand on her neck.
”When we get to your home, Mayaka, it would only be fair for me to tell you more about my home. If this were a more professional diplomatic mission, it would have been more of the smooth.” There was a bit of a flubbing of her grammar towards the end, but Starfire did not notice.
”I’m not sure if you understand the gravitas-” Wow, fancy wordplay. Good job! Or...maybe not, since Starfire wasn’t all that versed in the language. ”The seriousness, of the situation. Metahumans can heal from a lot, but magic is a nasty bi--thing. If it was a creature from the Scar, then it’s probably a festering wound. You know what festering means, right? Don’t really understand how your language gift works. Well, anyways. It’s a bad thing.” Perhaps she was going off on a bit of a tangent. Didn’t matter much. ”When did you get it? If it’s not that big of a deal, then wouldn’t you have stopped bleeding by now?”
Starfire chose not to comment on some of the things Mayaka said, otherwise she might get tongue tied. Starfire spoke deliberately, clearly, and relatively slowly in comparison to the fluent speaker.
”I received the bite 53 hours ago. I have not been able to sleep since then, so the wound does not heal. Once we go to your home, I will rest, and it should be better.” Mayaka occasionally spoke words she didn’t understand, but that was to be expected. Phrases like “nasty bithings” and “gravitas”. So far, they did not seem to have much issue communicating. It was truly an amazing ability, Starfire reflected.
”Alright, we’ll do it your way, but if you die I’m going to use your body for the greater good.” Perhaps that was the wrong phrasing, but it was accurate. Starfire nodded solemnly.
Before long, they were at the fire escape. Makaya began climbing it, making a sort of race out of it despite the fact that Starfire didn’t know about the challenge. She whooped as she made it to the top, then detached her shadow and allowed it to slip in through a small crack on the window. It unlatched the pane, sliding it to the side and allowing for entrance. ”Welcome to the abode!” Makaya said with a grin as soon as Starfire stepped inside.
The window lead into Makaya’s bedroom, which was painted in a pale eggplant color. In the center of the room was Makaya’s bed, which was covered in a grey comforter and pillows the same shade as the wall. Other than that, there were a couple dressers and a bedside table.
”The living room couch is a foldout, which is where you’ll be staying.”
The guest looked around, and then back to Mayaka. ”Thank you for inviting me into your home, Mayaka.” She paused. ”I forgot you wanted me to call you Clio. I will not repeat the same mistake again, I’m sorry.” She looked at the couch, which apparently was a foldout. Still, it was more than enough for Starfire’s purposes. She pressed her hands down on the pillows and tested their squishiness.
Makaya shrugged off her suit coat, folding it neatly then tossing it into a random corner. Sitting on the arm of the couch, Clio pulled off her mask and took off her top hat, which had somehow managed to stay on. Her braids fell out, and she shook them until they were out of her face. ”Don’t apologize, it’s weird having two names.” She was starting to feel her high wear off. At least someone was around, so she wouldn’t turn into a groveling mess.
”So...before you doze off...are you going to tell me why you left your home? I mean, not that it’s any of my business. Just curious.”
Starfire went silent, dropped the pillow onto the couch, and looked at the ground, and traced the carpet with the tip of her boot. ”We did have a fight,” she seemingly thought aloud. Their combat seemed to be almost a trust-building exercise. ”You were struck because of my past, so I suppose it is only fair you hear a little about it. If I stop talking, it is because the memories are hard to talk about, though that may not make sense to you. It hardly makes sense to me.”
After a search for words, she tried to sum it up briefly as possible. Not even Starfire wanted to hear her own life’s story. ”I was chased away. Nobody wants me there anymore. Especially one particular person, who hates me very, very much.” Her voice broke a little at the delivery of the last sentence. She spoke far quicker than normal, trying to spit the words out quickly as possible, like they were poison along the inside of her mouth.
Clio cleared her throat, scratching her forearm awkwardly. She didn’t know what it felt like to not be wanted. Her family was always there for her, even when others weren’t. She did know what it was like to feel guilty, though. She didn’t want Starfire to feel that way. ”Ya know, it’s...it’s not your fault. I hope you never think that.” There were certain situations where it could have been her fault, but that’s not what the girl needed to hear. Perhaps in the future, she’d be able to face it.
”Do you...need a hug? Clio cleared her throat, choking on the last word. She wasn’t really a hugger unless she was hyped up on magic. Luckily, there was still a bit flowing through her. ”I mean, we already kissed. So…”
Starfire nodded, and went to embrace her new friend, holding on longer than necessary.
Clio eventually grew antsy during the hug. She didn’t break away, but her soft pat on Starfire’s back became still.
As Starfire withdrew, she wiped a tear out of her eye. ”Even though you know little of my history, your words bring some comfort, Clio. Thank you.” Starfire did still believe the events that transpired were her fault, and Clio could probably notice that. But the thought was there.
Starfire went back over to the fold out couch, moving past the part of the conversation ”This folds out?” She began to mess with the object, wrapping her fingers underneath the lip of the furniture and pulling outward.
Clio retracted her hands quickly, ignoring the blood and black ichor that had stuck to one edge. As soon as Starfire tugged on the lip of the couch, it expanded. A queen size bed with arms took the couch’s place. ”Indeed it does.” Smiling slightly, she stood from where she was sitting on the arm. ”If you don’t mind...I think we should both rest.”
Starfire looked over at Clio and nodded. ”Yes, Clio, I agree.” Still standing up, she closed her eyes and concentrated. A green light began to glow beneath her skin, where her heart and stomach would be. Then, she pitched to the side and timbered onto the couch, landing with a thud and going limp. The light continued to glow, and Clio would be able to see it travel beneath Starfire’s skin and focus on the wound in her neck. Barely perceptible, the bite marks began to knit themselves back together. There was also a heat radiating off the orange-skinned woman, as if Clio were standing next to a fireplace. And snoring. Just a little.
What...in the world? She was, she was glowing… After a moment of confusion, Clio smiled, a small chuckle escaping her lips. What an interesting way of doing things. She wished she could heal like that. Turning, she walked into her room. She tore off her Makaya outfit, and changed into some loose-fitting clothing. Sighing, she slipped into her bed and shut her eyes. Her stomach throbbed now that she was paying attention to it, and giving it a gentle rub she forced herself to sleep.
Rayner let out a small sigh of exhaustion as he picked up another steel beam and bolted one end of it into place, before climbing back down the small step ladder he was using and shifting it over to the other pillar he was reinforcing. Climbing back up, Rayner proceeded to screw in some more bolts when his dirty blond haired coworker Luke walked through the front of the unfinished and unfurnished department store with an extension cord and bag of tools in hand. Rayner stepped down from the ladder again and, folding it up, walked over to a nearby countertop before setting the object down beside it. Grabbing a bottle of water from off the top, he opened it and took a swig as he turned to face Luke.
"So... management pulled you from your game to take over for me huh?" He said, chuckling lightly.
"Yeah. I was on the last hole to. Almost won, but then the call came in and well... here I am." He replied, shrugging slightly as he placed the cord and his bag on the cold tile floor.
"Well. Shit. I told them I had this. Said I didn't need any help today, I'm just putting up some bracing after all. It's not that hard." Rayner said, taking off the white hardhat he was wearing as he wiped some sweat from his brow with his shirt sleeve. "But if it's what management wants, then it's what management wants." Shrugging slightly, Rayner tucked his hat underneath his arm and started walking towards the door, briefly patting Luke on the back as he went. "Good luck on your shift." Striding past him, Rayner exited the building and headed towards his apartment a building a few blocks away. As he did so however, he walked past an electronics store and saw a row of tv's on display showing an afternoon news report in which a robbery was reported to have taken place in a bank a few blocks away.
Rayner paused for a moment as the news anchor went onto to ask those watching to turn in any information regarding the incident to the proper authorities. Turning away from the partially glare obscured screens and resuming his trek back to his apartment, a small smile wormed its way across his lips as he wove through the crowds of pedestrians milling about the area...
It seemed as though tonight would be the perfect time to hunt down this elusive thief.
January 1st, 5:07 PM Madison Square Garden, New York City
“...no suspect has yet to be identified, but the victim’s girlfriend indicated that Morena had left to purchase medication for her heart condition, medicine which could not be obtained within Pricetown.”
Karen sighed, closing out of the video. Placing her phone down on the vanity set of her dressing room, she stared at her reflection with a knowing disappointment. It wasn’t that long before the concert was to start, and she hadn’t even touched the outfit they’d given her. Her lip gloss and eyeliner likewise remained unused.
It was awfully difficult to focus on beautification, however, knowing that there had been yet another terracide not terribly far from where she was sitting now. One that had only been reported online, outside of mainstream sources. None of the major news networks would have ever bothered covering it, or any terran death that didn’t involve human casualties. A large portion of human society simply didn’t wish to know, so that they could ignore the suffering of these so-called “monsters”.
But that wasn’t how everyone felt, thankfully.
Her eyes darted to the multi-platinum award sitting on her dresser against the far wall—a silver record with three compact disks beneath it. Between the cover of her latest album and the logo of the Worldwide Music Awards was a plaque reading “Certified Sales Multi-Platinum Award — Presented to Karen Juana Hernandez to recognize the sales of the Sterling Records album ‘Fighting the Hate’”.
She smiled, feeling a warmth pool within her chest at the knowledge that her pro-terran message had struck a chord with so many people, human or otherwise.
“Right, focus!” she said, smacking her cheeks firmly.
Standing from her seat, she approached the outfit hanging from a hook beside her dresser. She barely even wrinkled her nose this time as she reached down to lift her shirt—
“Are you kidding me?”
Karen flinched, immediately recognizing the voice outside her door as Dean Bertram, her tour manager.
“I’m her fucking Tour Manager! Let me through the damn door!”
Lowering her grey t-shirt, she reached down to retrieve her black sweatpants. Making her way to the door, she turned the knob and opened it to see a red-faced Dean fuming at her bodyguard.
“It’s okay, Jones,” said Karen, unable to keep from smiling at the sight of her Tour Manager’s tomato-colored complexion. “You can let him through.”
Dean’s eyes widened at the sight of Karen, his anger shifting to a look of disbelief. “What the hell, Karen? Why haven’t you changed yet?”
“Well, I was trying to.”
“People will expect you out there in less than an hour—no, in just over half that! What have you been doing all this time?”
Shooting the man a glare as they stepped inside, she folded her arms. “I was watching the news, if you must know! Somebody was killed just outside of Pricetown this morning...”
Dean’s aggressive posture deflated only slightly. “I’m sorry to hear that, Karen, but we still have a show to put on. Over twenty thousand people are coming to see you perform tonight!”
“I know that!” she said, her shoulders falling. “I know…I just...”
“Look,” he said testily, “if you care so much about the m—non-humans, then go out there and blow their horns off by giving them the best show they’ve ever seen!”
Karen frowned at his near-slip up. “Only a few terran species have horns, you know.”
“But you get what I mean,” he said, waving a dismissive hand. “You’ve got a once in a lifetime opportunity here. Fighting the Hate is so close to the ten million mark that I can feel it in my fucking bones! Imagine it—the first Diamond-certified album since the Two Month War!”
She groaned, shaking her head. “It’s not the sales themselves that matter, but what they represent.”
“Yeah, yeah, spreading hope to all little bulls and birdies. The effect’s still the same, isn’t it?”
"¡Es un pendejo!" she snapped, balling her fists.
“Yeah, effin’ penny-ho to you too! Now hurry up and get your ass dressed!”
“Chinga tu madre!” shouted Karen, glowering at him with enough intensity to burn a hole straight through the bald patch on the back of his retreating head. She returned to the outfit hanging in the corner as he slammed the door hard enough to make her mirror rattle.
“Didn’t even get the chance to tell him how much I hate this naco shit they’re putting me in these days, not that he would’ve cared.”
Sterling Records had been a little too excited when she’d reached adulthood. The music videos she had recorded since August were notably racier than anything she had ever done before, with more skin shown and more lingering shots taken. This, of course, impacted her live performances as she was expected to present a consistent tone.
She had to wonder if that man would have still rushed the stage if she had kept her original style? Certainly, she wouldn’t have had to endure all the angry letters from more conservative parents who felt like she had become a “negative influence” on their little girls.
Of course, it wasn’t like she was a prude or anything, she didn’t mind being sexy—but there was a time and place for it. She was here to spread an important message, but how were they going to hear it if they were too busy gawking at her legs or ass?
Finally undressing, she fought her way into an outfit that felt like it was intentionally a size too small.
Looking in the mirror, she sighed at the woman that stared back. The long-sleeved, shoulderless black top was tied at the middle, and honestly looked rather cute. She didn’t mind that part. She was less of a fan of the tiny jean shorts that were just a step above being a denim bikini bottom. The stiletto heels were perhaps the best evidence of all that somebody was trying to kill her, though she had gotten better at dancing in them as of late.
After applying a bit of eyeliner and lip balm, Karen was ready—much as she ever would be, in any case.
This was her first time performing in Madison Square Garden, after all.
Heading back for the door, she opened it and offered a smile to her bodyguard, Jermaine “Jones” Morrison. “It looks like it’s showtime.”
A simple ball of nearly solid metal sat within the gloom of a reinforced concrete room, little tendrils of wires running out from the ball to the surrounding computers. From there, via all sorts of connections, Living Metal watched through a thousand robotic eyes the United State's border with the Shattered Scar. Typically this job was left to a simple AI, but for now, Lincoln had assumed direct control while waiting out the night.
Unfortunately, sleep was not something that the metal montrosity known as Living Metal was able to acquire. For years now, his lack of a biology had robbed him of that gift, and it was indeed a gift in his mind, as there was always a nearly permanent sense of tiredness that pervaded his life.
In one of his many eyes, the Morning Show of 2021 came on, full of its ridiculously fake actresses and actors, nestled away in the comfort of Gotham City while hundreds of miles away, Lincoln had just lost two good militiamen to a monster incursion just yesterday. They had been completely and utterly ripped apart, nearly unidentifiable.
A soldier entered the room, adorned with a blackened eagle on his shoulder that signified the man as the right hand of Living Metal. Despite being Lincoln's Lieutenant, Frost couldn't be more than twenty eight, a compact Asian warrior that spoke simply as he raised his right hand in salute, "Plans for today, sir?"
"Training and typical border patrol."
"When are we going to get to move on the Scar?"
Living Metal returned control of the border sensors to their AI and retracted his tendrils, the metal of the ball flooding outward on the floor, building the seven foot tall humanoid robotic form he liked to maintain from the feet up until Lincoln strolled out of the bunker into the early morning light near a window, Frost close behind, "Not sure. Honestly, we're going to need far more men."
Memphis, Tenneesee was mostly a ruined mess at this point, situated directly on the Mississippi River that had mostly formed the border between the Scar and civilized lands. The Texas Rangers had converted much of the area surrounding a place once known as the Memphis Cook Convention Center into a heavily fortified stronghold. Looking across the strategically important Hernando de Soto Bridge towards an unusual pyramid missing most of its top, Lincoln could see even more Rangers on guard, surveying the area.
The Hernando de Soto Bridge was one of the more important ones leading into the Scar, but the war had certainly taken its toll. Much of it was beginning to fall apart and constant skirmishes on and near the bridge had damaged it. In truth, the only reason it still stood was because Living Metal was here to maintain it.
A supersonic crack like the thunder of lightning rang out from the pyramid a few blocks away, Lincoln's electronic eyes quickly following the laser that erupted from the pyramid's summit to a target on the other side of the river. A monster on the other side exploded in a confetti of gore, dumb or unfortunate enough to have approached the bridge, "Heh heh. Another one bites the dust. Just a few million, billion, or trillion more to go."
"Thanks to your equipment, of course, sir."
"Anyway, let's get a move on up to the roof. Rouse the pilots and get a trio of flyboys going, we're going to head back to Gotham, see if we can't round up some more soldiers for the cause."
"Gotham huh? I suppose there's always a bunch of a young men in need of work there."
Frost muttered something into the radio as the pair ascended the stairs, coming into full view of the Texas Rangers' trio of transport VTOLs that Lincoln lovingly called 'Cows'.
Already the three ships were firing up their fusion engines, pilots at the helm. As Lincoln boarded one of them, the montrosity motioned for Frost to stay behind, "Keep an eye on the place and make sure those cunts across the river don't get over here. I'll come back with as many men as I can fit in these damn things, probably in a few days."
"Understood, sir."
"Keep in touch." Lincoln waved the Lieutenant off and took his 'seat' in the Cow, fusing the metal of his body to the vehicle as the pilot gave notice they were taking off. Superheated jets of plasmatic exhaust streamed from the engine on either side of the craft as all three lifted into the air, giving Lincoln a good view of the smoldering ruin that was Memphis. Soon though, Memphis disappeared over the horizon as the Cows soared towards the East Coast.
