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Hidden 22 days ago 21 days ago Post by Bounce
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”A Song of Garth & Fire, part IV” [ post theme ] [ prev | next ]

NORTH AMERICA
Beachrock, Massachusetts

He’d read the page probably a dozen times over.

Each time he tried to turn the page, he just started over again from the top. One finger tapping against the paper as he sat in his patrol car on the side of the road.

The manilla envelope bore the return address of a law firm in Boston. The header at the top read: In the superior court of the state of Massachusetts. Not far beneath that were the words David Theodore Wilson, Defendant.

She was divorcing him.

Absently, the man fidgeted with the wedding band on his hand without even being conscious of what he was doing. He’d been wearing it for eleven years. Twelve this next July.

They were supposed to have gone to New York for their anniversary, a trip they’d been saving for, except Dewey had gotten COVID and then their schedules had just never aligned for it to happen. Next year, they’d told themselves. And now it seemed that money was going to pay for lawyers.

With a sigh, the man tossed the papers and the manilla envelope they’d come in onto the seat beside him. He plucked a stained coffee cup from out of the center console and tasted coffee that had gone cold.

Eleven years. Dating through college. They’d actually met in high school, but had both been seeing other people then.

Now he was being asked to sign his name and let that all go.

As he started to fidget with the wedding band again, the radio suddenly came alive. “Adam-12, 10-21, over.”

Picking up the handset, Dave brought it toward it as he answered, “Adam-12. 10-4.” Then, he hooked the handset back into its holder on the dash.

Police band had too many people listening in. 10-21 was the code to tell him to phone dispatch, which would then be whatever they didn’t want to say over the radio.

Pulling out his cellphone, a swipe of his thumb and a quick tap called up his most frequently dialed number.

“Beachrock Sheriff’s Office.”

“It’s Wilson,” Dave announced, holding the phone in one hand as he spoke. “I just got a 10-21.”

Through the speaker, he could hear the sound of shuffling papers as the dispatch looked at their notes. “We just got a call from Bessie Chambers.”

Joys of a small town. Everybody knew everybody. Bessie Chambers was a retired school teacher. Had been Dave’s middle school math teacher for Seventh and Eighth grade in fact. She’d probably lived in Beachrock since before he’d been born.

“She said she was out on her kayak and encountered a body in the water.”

Already, Dave’s mind was filling in the parts unsaid. Bessie liked to kayak out on the coast. Kept up an old cottage that probably dated back to the Twenties. Small as hell, even for one person, but it had ocean views and a small pier.

“Kayak was too light to try and rescue, and water was too deep to get out. Sge dropped a pin on the location and believe the body should be washing up on shore.”

“I’m near the old fisherman’s wharf,” Dave said, already starting the car. “Near here?”

“Dropping the pin to you now.”

A ping signaled the arrival of the geo tag. “Got it,” Dave remarked, hanging up as he pulled up his phone’s navigation app and started to pull back onto the road.

As he did, he grabbed the handset and announced, “Dispatch, Adam-12. 76 to 10-32, over.”

“Dispatch. 10-4. Out.”

A drowning. Not exactly what Dave had wanted to have come up on his first day back.

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SHAYERIS
3,600 feet below sea level

The sediment hung thick in the water.

Stirring, the old sorcerer found himself winded and barely alive. Instead, glimpses of a hellish scene seemed to fade in and out as Vulko went in and out of consciousness.

He could feel the presence of others mulling around him. Rescuers? They seemed to be systematically picking through the debris.

A moment later, a pair of hands hauled the battered sorcerer from off the ocean floor. In his disoriented state, it was a moment before Vulko was even aware of being carried away. Details began to filter through the fog that seemed to muffle his brain.

These were guards. The royal guard? No. The royal guard didn’t wear this attire. These were... soldiers?

The edge of consciousness brought with it a deep sense of dread as Vulko realized that these were Venturian soldiers. Here, in Shayeris.

As his head hung down, the sorcerer tried to find the strength to look around. Venturian soldiers. On all sides. Moving through the city.

Shayeris had fallen.

Brought before a chapel on the edge of the city, the sorcerer was shoved down onto his knees. He knew even without raising his head who it was waiting to receive his submission. “Prince Slizzath,” Vulko spat dryly.

“I’m pleased you’re not dead,” the sorcerer could hear the mocking tone, the feigned concern, rolling around in his mind as the dark prince loomed at the makeshift throne up on the dias. “Having the Chancellor of the Silent School perform his duties overseeing the coronation will be a welcome show of tradition. Once this mess is cleaned up, of course.”

“You mean give legitimacy to your coup,” Vulko uttered flatly, at last finding the strength to try and raise his head.

The prince’s purple eyes were aglow with a hellish light, like a demon’s that were dreaming. “I wasn’t aware that legitimacy was a concern,” Slizzath remarked candidly, before repeating, “The king is dead. Long live the king. This is the order of things.”

Vulko just fell silent.

No longer amused, the dark prince made a dismissive gesture. “See that his wounds are treated.”

The soldier’s hands roughly seized the sorcerer, hauling him up from the floor.

“Oh, and Vulko. You’re in shock, so I’ll forgive your obstinance. This time,” the prince warned darkly, flashing a devil’s smile. “But make no mistake. The Chancellor serves the king of Shayeris. Serve well... and live.”

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NORTH AMERICA
Beachrock, Massachusetts

The police cruiser rolled off the asphalt, tires digging into the rocky sand as Dave went off the beaten path toward where the geo tag had indicated the body had been seen.

Even assuming it had washed up, the tide could have put it anywhere. “Dispatch, Adam-12. 23 10-32, over,” he announced, speaking into the radio clipped up on his shoulder. The weather had turned cool. The season was over, so there wasn’t likely to be many people about on the beach.

Indeed, Dave found a cold wind coming in off the bay, and not a soul in sight on the beach.

“Dispatch, 10-4, out.”

Walking down to the water’s edge, Dave let the tide roll over the top of his boots as he scanned the shore and started moving up the coast. For all he knew, the body could have washed up somewhere behind him. If it had washed up at all.

To be honest this whole thing felt like a snipe hun...

There. A shape stuck in the sand, as the water ebbed and flowed around it. As Dave started moving toward it, something was gnawing at the back of his mind. Something that made his pace quicken.

It was small. Petite? An overwhelming feeling of deja vu caused a cold sweat to break out, as a dread came over Dave.

Like he was reliving his worst day.

It was a kid. Face down in the water and sand. Kneeling down beside the body, Dave began to go through his duties with a numb sort of detachment. Pulling out his phone, Dave switched it to voice memo and began recording for the report he’d be drafting later. “Possible male. Maybe teen. Black hair. Clothing is...”

Dave stopped, his attention focused on the red and blue attire. The shirt was made of something like shark skin?

“What the hell are you wearing?” Dave uttered softly.

The body moved.

Dave Wilson probably lost at least ten years of his life in that moment, the jump scare causing him to drop his phone into the water.

He ignored it. Instead, his hands went to the boy’s neck. Two fingers pressed against the skin.

The color drained from Dave’s face at the realization that the boy was alive.Hooking one arm around the child’s body, Dave hauled the boy ashore with one hand while the other grabbed the radio. “Dispatch, Adam-12. 10-52. Repeat, 52.”

“Dispatch, 10-4, 52.”

Laying the boy down on the beach, Dave rolled him onto his back and was mentally running through his CPR training. Pulse, check. Breathing...

As though answering Dave’s unvoiced question, the child’s mouth opened as he seemed to start gagging. Then came the water. A proverbial geyser of water-vomit.

As the boy started to gag a second time, Dave went to turn him onto his side.

Instead, Dave watched with a kind of amazement as the world turned upside down. It was only a second later that his mind registered the fact that the boy had come up from the ground and, in so doing, tossed Dave aside like a used tissue.

He hit the beach in a rough landing, trying to tuck and roll too late. Pain shot through his knee and back.

“Adam-12, 10-52 is 76.”

Great. At this point, Dave wasn’t sure if that ambulance was for the kid. Or for him.

Catching his breath, Dave came up into a crouch and realized that the boy was now sprawled out in the sand.

A hand outstretched, deep hand impressions like the child had been trying to claw his way back to the water. Moving back over to the boy, Dave confirmed that the boy was breathing now. But out cold.

Just what in hell had just happened?
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Hidden 20 days ago Post by mattmanganon
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mattmanganon Your friendly neighbourhood tyranical dicator

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The Lanterns


The Bus, Above the the Rockies


Hal was walking back from the kitchen to his room with a small armful of snacks when he passed Sinestro walking towards the back of the plane. "Hey, bud, where you going?" Sinestro looked a little confused at being called "Bud"

"Are you accusing me of being some sort of flower?" He asked.

"No, bud as in Buddy. Pal. Friend... My Dude..." Hal replied. Sinestro still looked a little confused, but smply rolled his eyes.

"Green Lantern, come with me." He ordered. Hal looked around for some convenient place to put the snacks, before remembering he had the ring, creating a bubble of green energy around his snacks and sending them off to his room, before beginning to follow Sinestro. "Green Lantern, you have become rather proficient with that ring. I am pleased with your progress that you have made controlling it." Hal was rather taken aback. This was the first time that Sinestro had really, genuinely complimented him.

"Thanks." He replied.

"I do no say that lightly. Many lanterns take years to properly come to terms with the power they wield, especially the military ones. Military discipline usually stamps out creativity, which is an absolute necessity in order to get the most from the rings." As they reached one of the aerial insertion airlocks, Sinestro stopped. "The point is, that your aptitude in dealing with Deaths Head, your power with the ring and your unshakable will have given me the confidence to make the following decision." He said as his own Gold Lantern costume descended over his suit. "I am going to be gone for a while. Maybe a month by your Earth time. I am going to go out to a less populated part of the galaxy and make some noise. Draw Ronan's attention away from Earth." The surprises just did not seem to stop rolling with Sinestro.

"Wait, that's suicide. If he catches you-" Sinestro interupted him.

"Which he won't."

"All 7 Lanterns didn't stand a chance last time, what are you gonna do by yourself?" Hal asked.

"The difference is that i know he is coming and i will be able to make traps. Draw him in. Keep his attention to that part of the galaxy away from Earth. In the meantime, you sort out the affairs of your planets petty squabbles and get the information on the blue, indigo, star sapphire and orange rings. When i return, we will continue the search with far more time available to us." Sinestro put his hand on Hals shoulder. "Can i trust you with this Green Lantern?" Hal was REALLY confused by this. Sinestro was almost acting like a completely different person. But then again, the fate of the universe was at stake, so he didn't really know how Sinestro acted when the chips were down.

"Of course. I've got May and Dex to back me up. I'll keep them in line and on task. When you get back, we'll have at least 1 more Lantern recruited." He put his 3 fingers up "Scouts honour"

"I will keep you to that." Sinestro replied, before pressing the button to open the air-lock to step inside.

"Wait, aren't you going to help us with transfering Deaths Head? You are the one who said he's a master escape artist. Also, have you told Fury?" Hal asked, grabbing his arm. Sinestro pulled himself free and stepped into the airlock. "Also, how are you even getting to space?"

"Deaths Head's ship is an old IG-2000. I know how to hot-wire it." He replied. Hal was interested to know that starships could be hot-wired. "It will get me anywhere i need to go. Also, it'll make it look like Deaths Head has chased me off this planet and to the quiet part where i can dump it and make Ronan think i'm recruiting over there." He replied.

"Doesn't answer the question about Fury." Sinestro pressed a button to close the airlock and shrugged, before pressing the final button and being sucked out into the air. "Ooooooh Fury is going to KILL me..." He groaned. He then saw Dex down the coridor, dragging the shattered remains of his green orb filled with snacks after he had clearly clawed his way into it, taking the snacks somewhere safe. "YOU KNOW YOU ONLY HAVE TO ASK TO GET FOOD FROM THE KITCHEN!" Hal yelled down the hallway to Dex. Dex stopped, stared straight at Hal and took a large bite out of one of the twinkies, not even chewing it, just swallowing the bite, wrapper and all, while staring Hal in the eyes to assert his dominance. "Nope, that's it, i'm checking myself into the grippy socks spa when we land. I'm done." He turned and stormed away "I'M DONE!!!

LaGuardia Airport, Queens.


One of the less used runways had been used for the Bus to land quietly. With any luck, nobody would know what was happening until Deaths Head was safely in one of the Green Cells. Clamped in irons made from both Green and Red lantern energies, he was marched to a secure van. "You plan to keep me in some little Human jail, yes? This should be most amusing" He laughed as he was bundled into the van along with Hal, May and Dex, the pair keeping his manacles on him while May sat in the front with the driver. The drive was quiet. Hal could see Deaths Head's eyes constantly scanning the manacles as well as the rest of the truck, formulating a plan of escape.

"Food-Can cultist is brave to attempt escape with Dex-Starr next to him." The cat growled. Hal was surprised Dex could read expressions like that. But then again, Cats always seemed to know what humans were thinking. Deaths Head stared at Dex, remembered the claws in his tongue and simply went back to scanning.

As the truck arrived down at the Manhattan Waterfront. Deaths Head was quietly loaded into a small and inconspicuous looking tugboat. "You are being transported to a secret underwater facility known as The Raft. There, you will spend some time in custody until such time as a grand jury is convened to hear your case and then a trial will commence." May told him as he was sat in a cell down bellow."If you are found guilty, your stay may be much longer."

"Spare me your mockery of justice, human. I would get more compassionate justice from a Quintesson." May didn't know what one of those was, but she suspected they weren't compassionate creatures. "But we both know i will not be here for long, yes?" He grinned.

"Your cell was custom designed to hold something 1000x stronger than you. You'll be a nice trial run for when we finally catch that one." She sneered. As the boat headed out into the bay, Hal stodd just in sight of the small cell holding Deaths Head, looking out at the Statue of Liberty.

"You know, May, first time i've seen her from sea level. Only other times i've been to the big apple was for air shows. So, only seen her before from the air." He said, knowingly. "She's french you know." He smiled, as if that factoid was somehow not common knowledge. Hal wasn't particularly sea sick. He had served on Carriers before. Gotten his sea legs. As the boat arrived at what looked like a small navigation Buoy, it stopped alongside and ropes were fastened. Hal engulfed Death's Head in a bubble of Green Energy and was just about to take him out when suddenly he heard a commotion from outside.

"HOLY SHIT, CAST OFF, HARD ABOUT!!!" He heard from the skipper. Hal dropped the bubble, but not the manacles and rushed above deck as the little tugboat rocked hard in the building swell of the harbour. Hal got above deck just in time to see the immense wave.

"Oh shit indeed!" Hal replied. He needed to think fast. Putting his ring hand out, a green bubble encased the top of the Tugboat to make it watertight. The boat was then engulfed in the wave, the undertow dragging it down under the water, but the immense amount of air Hal had trapped inside helping to make it bob back up to the surface. But just as the boat was about to crest, suddenly Hal heard a shattering sound. As if Glass was being smashed and Stone Cold Steve Austin was making his epic appearance to challenge him. But it wasn't a wrestler, it was water. Hal looked to see that, in his haste to save the boat, he had completely forgotten abut Deaths Head. He had left the cell door open from when he was taking him out. He couldn't see Dex and now water was rushing into the boat from the exit Deaths Head had presumably made for himself. Hal quickly closed the smashed spot with more ring energy, but the water had rushed in quickly and they were slightly less buoyant now. He tried dragging the boat to the surface with the ring and did succeed, but the boat was now low in the water. Hal looked around, maybe to see Deaths Head, but he couldn't. But he did see Dex slowly floating through the air towards the Statue of Liberty itself. "DEX! HELP ME!!! HELP THEM!!!" Hal called after he cat, but Dex seemed to have his own priorities, none of which included helping Hal. "May!" He looked around and saw May with the phone to her head, but then looked at it.

"No signal" She grunted.

"Get to land, i'll head over to help the people on the island." Hal said, floating up and seeing the little tug make its best possible speed for land, while being tossed around on the waves like a bead of sweat in an aerobics teachers cleavage. As Hal ascended, he saw something streaking through the water at breakneck speed towards he island as well. "Deaths Head?" Hal set off flying as fast as he could to try and keep up with the being in the water. But as the person came up with a survivor in hand, Hal quickly realized it wasn't Deaths Head... No, this one was a girl... And a hot girl at that. Hal slapped his own face hard "JORDAN, WE ARE ON THE JOB! NOT ON THE JOB!!!" He grunted under his breath at himself. Hal looked around to see others in the water. "Fear not, citizens, the Green Lantern is here to rescue you." He said, waving his hand around. Pointing to the water, a long beam of green energy shot out under the water and he began hauling people up using a large, solid net that was strong enough for people to stand on, but had holes so the water could drain. He managed to pull quite a few people up and brought them to the top of the statue's lookout post at the top of her torch. Letting them step off. Dex was laying in loaf-mode on the parapet of her torch looking down. "RED LANTERN, YOU MAYBE WANNA HELP?" Hal yelled at the cat. It stared back at him, before the tail flicked a little and a red rope lashed out to grab another person out of the water. "Thank you!" Hal said through gritted teeth.

"This one smells of haddock. I will look after them." Dex replied, hauling the person up to the relative safety of the extended arm. There was a groan from the copper and steel structure as it was hit by forces it wasn't particularly designed to be hit by. Hal had been a little trigger-happy with the ring energy so far and he didn't want a repeat his his fight with Deaths Head. Luckily, he had charged up as the last thing he did before leaving the bus. Hal looked at Dex again.

"The arm isn't the most structurally stable, it's why it's closed to the public. If you want to stay here, you're gonna need to use your ring energy to reinforce the structure." Hal said. Dex seemed to mull it over for a second, before he flicked his tail again and red energy seemed to flow through the statue of Liberty's arm to reinforce it and make using the torch as a temporary rescue post into a viable option. Hal looked at the people clinging to his net structure, despite being able to get up and walk around on it comfortably. "Please move to the torch. I need to rescue others." Hal said. "And do not touch the cat, he is NOT friendy. I repeat he is NOT friendly."
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Hidden 19 days ago Post by Sep
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Sep Lord of All Creation

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SPRINGFIELD // USA


Iris couldn't help herself, she didn't even hear the beginning of the opening line. "We really need to talk about boundaries Doctor-"

"Iris-"

"No. You don't get to just call me up and play the name card, you just show up at my door one day, knowing my real identity after violating my privacy, tell me what to do. Say you can help me, now I'm in the middle of a crisis and then you just call me up, on a number I never gave you. So what do you have to say for yourself? What excuse for violating my privacy are you going to use this time?"

"Iris look at the news."

Iris scoffed as she pulled her phone down low, swiping the call away all the colour drained from her face as she saw the headline. "ROUGE WAVE HITS ELLIS ISLAND" The photos were all blurry, clearly taken by shocked New Yorkers at the wave that came from within the bay rose up and headed towards the famous statue.

Pulling her phone back up to her ear as the colour drained from her face. "What do you need me to do?"

She heard the sigh from the other end of the phone.

"You are a Superhero aren't you? Well this seems like a time to go and be, well, heroic."

Checking on her maps she couldn't help but laugh. "That's nearly 600 miles away, to get there in time to do anything-"

"You'd have to run at over thirteen hundred miles per hour."

"-that's ridiculous, I've not even cracked the sound barrier yet and that's what, half of that?"

"You can do it."

"Well thanks for the faith Doc but-"

"This is nothing to do about faith." Iris had to admit, for some reason. That stung a little bit. "Before you went too fast for it and ran through a wall you were nearly at one thousand miles per hour. Had it not failed, you could have been going faster.

Iris sighed. Whether or not she ould do it, Wells was right. She had to try. "Okay."

"Good. Now get to the airport. You're going to need to make space, and break the sound barrier while you're not near any buildings or people. There will be a shockwave and we want to try and minimise any collatoral damage with everything else that is going on, and most importantly?"

"Yeah?"

"Run Iris, Run."
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Hidden 19 days ago Post by Pacifista
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Pacifista Ponk-ifista

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“Okay, can we chill out for a second? As a representative of Earth, I-”

“-say we just kill him.” Rachel interjected on Garfield’s plea.

Lobo let out a dark chuckle. “You can try.”

Rachel turned her eyes on him, the pair glowing with magic for a moment before widening as they shifted back to their normal purple. “Your soul isn’t part of the cycle of life and death? And how did you manage that?”

Lobo stood, the floating weapons trained on him shifting up to keep their fixation. “Yeeeah, I’m too bad for Hell, too good lookin’ for Heaven, and too buck wild for Purgatory. Only reason I haven’t popped your eyeballs yet is because I don’t wanna break my stuff trying.” Slamming both his fists against his chest, he cried, “I’m fraggin’ unkillable baby!”

“Fair enough. Like I said, I’m only here for the green one, what’s your business with him?”

“Nuthin’. I’m a bounty hunter, and the Tamaranian chick is playing hard to get. The green kid’s just in my way.”

“Good. I’ll take him and you two can sort out the rest.”

“I object!” Garfield cried. Before he got the chance to make his statement, Rachel hovered over, glaring right into his eyes. Garfield only flinched for a brief moment. “You’re just gonna let him come here and do whatever he wants? I don’t even know her name but I’m not going to turn away from someone who needs my help!”

“Think with your upper brain for half a second. We can’t kill the bounty hunter even if we tried. Unless you know of a nearby volcano or got a business card from that wizard-”

“Volcano wouldn’t work. It’s a scuz but I’ve walked out of ‘em before. Hurt’s like a bastiche though, so you better-” Lobo called.

“The people of this planet have two brains? I’ve never heard of such a being in all the cosmos! Not without two heads, that is.”

“I was talking!

“...Just the men.”

“Oh! And yet this doesn’t seem to increase their intelligence by significant amounts. Curious.”

“Wow, okay, rude.” Shaking his head, he insisted, “Look, we just need to make it more worth his while to drop the bounty. He had some other aliens to pick up, what if we help him with that in exchange?”

Koriand’r frowned. “Among them would be my father and mother, and a few other Tamaranians loyal to our faction. I would like to gather them all and return home, but do not have the means.” Lifting her hair, she tilted her head to reveal a dark diamond mark set to the back of he neck. “Furthermore, we are all branded. The Gordanians only temporarily released us with the intent of reclaiming their captives at a later time. Lobo may merely be the first to try and claim the bounty.”

Rachel looked at Garfield again, waving her two hands towards Kori. “You defend her now, you defend her from an entire extraterrestrial race and all the resources at their disposal. Cut your losses now and let’s move on.” Shaking her head, she muttered, “Unless you’d rather die free than live the rest of your life as my thrall.”

Garfield wracked his brain, before something clicked. “Well, if he’s afraid of someone more powerful...” Turning about, he offered, “Didja know that her dad could definitely beat up your dad?”

Rachel raised her fist, jabbing Garfield on his upper arm. Lobo shrugged, “I hope so! Space dust don’t put up much of a fight. Not that he had much fight back before Lobo Day.”

“...What’s Lobo Day?”

“The day I genocided my home planet and catapulted the empty husk into our local star. I celebrate the anniversary every year with my favorite diner slop and the home movies I made on the day.”

“...Okay we need a plan B.”

“Don’t kid yourself, you never even had a plan A.”

Rapping his hand against his skull in thought, he calmed himself when Koriand’r placed her hand on his shoulder. “I do appreciate you efforts, hero of Earth, but as they say on my home planet, there is a time where one must accept the they are forever within the Laznian’s maw.”

The cultural reference being lost on him aside, Garfield understood the meaning. “You...you’re giving up? What happened to refusing to give in?”

Kori shook her head, “If he really has casually genocided one world, I cannot let him do the same here, not after you so gallantly came to my aid. Please, green one, take solace in knowing that your kindness has given me something I can never return.” Garfield felt his spirit crumbling, but he had no words to offer. Head raised high, she took a step towards Lobo. “Very well. I, Princess Koriand’r of Tamaran, surrender myself to you.”

Rachel lowered Lobo’s weapons, but the Main Man’s face didn’t contain relief, glee, or smug certainty, instead falling to a careful consideration. “Princess?” Scratching at his shaggy hair, he grumbled, “You fraggin’ serious?” He glanced between Koriand’r and Garfield’s confused faces. “Fraggin’… Catchin’ a few loose war prisoners is one thing, but Tamaran throws some sick parties.” He took a few steps, pushing past the floating weapons before lowering his head down on the hood of a car, crashing through the metal and leaving a heavy dent. Shaking his head, he muttered, “One sec.” Pulling some device out of his pocket, he tapped a few button before holding it up to his face. “Hey scuzzos! You didn’t say there was Tamaranian royalty in the bounty. I don’t do royalty, not for that chump change. I want five times what you’re offering for the lot. ...Double? You think I’m fraggin’ around? Nah, forget it then, just give me the deposit back on the tracker… Hey, hey! It only broke because of your prisoner, I didn’t do a keezy thing! You give me that deposit back or-he, what’s your name? G’nahsa? Yeah okay G’nahsa you give me that deposit back or I’ll fly over there and pull your nasa out of your quin through your-DON’T YOU HANG UP ON ME! I’M GONNA FIND YOUR FAMILY, A GALLTRIAN ACIDSKIFF, AND MAKE SURE YOU ALL GET REAL FRIENDLY YOU KEEZY FRAGGIN’ BASTICHE YOU DON’T CROSS THE MAIN MAN LOBO, YOU HEAR ME!?” With a roar he threw his comms device on the ground, the metal bouncing off the sidewalk into a building window and crashing through. Picking up the damaged car he let out another yell before tossing it into the window after. Catching his breath, he threw his hair back before turning back to the three teens. Wiping at his forehead, he muttered, “Negotiations broke down. I’ll deal with those scuzzers later. ‘fore then, what’s the best slop you got to eat on this rock?”
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Hidden 19 days ago Post by Mao Mao
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Mao Mao Sheriff of Pure Hearts (They/Them)

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BATMAN
OLD GOTHAM
HOMECOMING - AGREE TO DISAGREE


"You truly don't know what you've just done, do you?"

Bruce's uncle confronted him, and the displeasure was evident in his tone and expression. The conference room was nearly empty, except for a few eager individuals hoping to have a personal conversation with the newly appointed CEO. Despite Philip Kane's composed facade, a subtle glimpse of his unfiltered thoughts was ready to break through, catching his nephew's full focus.

"Shutting down the entire arms division, canceling those DoD contracts without reason, will cost the company millions! Not to mention, our competitors will surely swoop in to grab those contracts, especially Powers Technology. They've been eagerly waiting for an opportunity to gain an advantage over us, and now they've got it." Philip's hands clenched as he exclaimed, struggling to contain his outrage. Yet, his anger cut deeper than it seemed. To everyone else, it appeared as a simple objection from a man on his way out. But to Bruce, it felt like a desperate final plea to change course now before... Before what, though?

"I understand your concerns, uncle." Bruce smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I have already devised a plan to recuperate any lost profits during this transitional period."

"It isn't just about the money." Philip nearly shouted; his frustration was pretty evident. After taking a moment to collect himself, he stepped back from Bruce and continued in a last-ditch effort, "Your decision will definitely ruffle some feathers with the investors and partners I've dedicated sixteen years of my life nurturing for the company. I can't bear to see all my hard work undone by a mistake that could simply be overlooked. Your father would agree with me and berate you afterward."

The room fell into stunned silence as Philip's final words hung in the air, nearly every eye focused upon him. Frantically, he quickly tried to backtrack, stammering, "Ah, that's not what I meant-"

Bruce felt the tension in the room escalating as if any criticism of him or his father was forbidden. Emilia, in particular, was appalled by the remark and wasted no time in contacting security to have him escorted out of the building. It felt not just insulting but also as if he was being treated like that fragile child all over again. That was almost two decades ago; he had managed to move forward in a positive and healthy way. At least, that's what he told himself. But just before things could've gotten any more awkward, Bruce cut in to defuse the tension and carefully approached his uncle. "You could be right, Philip. My decision might indeed disappoint my father. Unlike you, the chance to have that personal connection with him was taken from me, but I've dived deep into how his decisions made Wayne Enterprises a global powerhouse. Thomas Wayne was ambitious, yet never lost sight of the principles he pledged to uphold as a doctor long before even inheriting the company."

"You see it in the several donations to the ICRC and other humanitarian agencies for his own pocket. Keeping that in mind, my father would actually agree with me." Bruce declared firmly to the whole room. His uncle was stunned and disheartened, realizing he couldn't sway his nephew to reconsider. With a heavy sigh, Philip began to leave the room, feeling utterly deflated, even though security was on its way. He hesitated to leave, then turned to Bruce and spoke in a hushed tone:

"At least you're as brave as he was—you'll need it."

Bruce stared at his uncle in surprise, struck by the veiled warning that seemed to be the only piece of advice he could offer. Emilia came up to him and asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I am." Bruce answered warmly as Lucius Fox joined them. "While I disagree with Philip's comments about your father, he does have a point about the financial hit we're going to face. I really hope your plan pulls through."

A member of the board spoke up nervously. "GCPD should be at least be open to hearing our offer, especially with the recent increase in crime."

"I still think it's too risky to get involved with them given their... reputation," another border member interjected.

"That's why we should be helping them out," Emilia chimed in.

"This isn't a guaranteed deal, and I am exploring all other options. I hope to have lunch with the commissioner soon to discuss a potential partnership. In the meantime, I want us to prepare for the worst-case scenario regardless." Bruce declared as he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket, quickly pulling it out. A text from Alfred flashed on the screen that made him chuckle: Harvey insists on talking today. Meet him at the cafe near his office.


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Hidden 18 days ago Post by Roman
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Roman Grumpy Toad / King of Dirt

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Jasper and Marty stood on the observation side of the observation window as Jubilee sat in bed and sipped on a blood pack through the de-needled IV tube. To an outside observer, the whole situation was a farcical sight. The pair were in spare scrubs, their suits taken, first for trace evidence, and then for laundering, covered in blood from desperately trying to restrain a frenzied Jubilee as they were, and now they were in a near-daze watching the teenage girl sucking viscous red liquid through plastic piping that stretched and corkscrewed and looped on itself like a silly straw, with no small amount of enthusiasm. She looked like a kid with a capri-sun. The arm that held the blood pack had a thick leather strap wrapped and bolted around the forearm, which in turn was secured to a chain that trailed to the floor. The chain rattled as Jubilee shifted around, squeezing corners of the pack to pull the last of her dinner out.

Jasper turned away, walking across the small room away from the window to sit in a fold-out chair that had been put against the wall. Marty turned around and leaned against the wall. The men looked at each other in silence for a long while, before Jasper just rubbed his eyes. He should have been in bed six hours ago - or at least half-asleep on the couch in front of the television, a drained glass of whiskey threatening to tumble out of his slack hand.
"Are you sure that's okay?" Marty asked, turning his head to glance at Jubilee again in his periphery before looking back to Jasper. Jasper just looked back with a nonplussed expression.
"What?"
"The blood pack. Are you sure that's okay? It's meant to be a donation."
"Oh it's being donated alright." Jasper said, pushing his head back and leaning it against the wall behind him, closing his eyes in search of a brief respite.
"I mean, is it safe?"

Jasper frowned, and lifted his head again to look at Marty with a furrowed brow.
"It's a blood pack. No one's getting hurt. You'd prefer the alternative?"
Marty shook his head, going slightly pale as he thought about that orderly's torn-apart corpse again. He looked back through the window as Jubilee balled up the empty blood pack and wrapped it in its own tubing before tossing it across the room into the bin. It fell in with a smooth entry and the girl gave herself a short subtle fist-pump for the shot.
"Aren't we encouraging it, though? Shouldn't we lock her up? Put her in a cell?"
"Christ, Marty, she's just a kid."
"She's a vampire!" Marty said, wheeling around to look Jasper in the eye.
"Well I don't have a fucking protocol leaflet on VAMPIRES, Marty, do you?!"

Jasper was stood up, his face reddened and voice raised, the distance between him and the junior agent swiftly covered. Sitwell was a tall man, and he loomed over Marty, who cowed beneath him.
"No, sir. Sorry." He answered. His voice sounded small. Behind them, Jubilee listened through the glass. Jasper could see her ears twitching. It apparently didn't matter that the observation room was supposed to be sound-proofed.
"No. I didn't think so." Jasper said, his voice returned to its usual measured, even tone. He stepped back. They were dealing with a complete unknown, but he had to remain in control; Marty's concerns were but a small example of a greater evil that Jasper knew lurked within SHIELD. He'd already personally destroyed of all pending biological samples from the girl.

He walked to the door, leaving Marty behind.
"I need to talk to Nick. Until then, you do nothing. You say nothing. Your only job is to make sure she's looked after, and looked after well. Whatever you think - whatever you feel - she's still just a girl, and she still needs our help. And that's a damn order."
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Hidden 17 days ago Post by Half Pint
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Half Pint

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Volume 1 - The Heir of Dorado
New Suit, New Enemies



Necalli stalked through the trees, stepping from branch to branch high above the jungle floor as his newly enhanced senses guided him quietly towards his prey. His new Black Panther suit he wore clung to his body like a second skin, its design masterfully crafted for stealth and agility. The matte black vibranium weave was so dark that it seemed to swallow the moonlight, rendering him almost invisible in the dense shadows of the jungle canopy.

Hints of vibranium shimmered subtly throughout the suit, woven into its very fabric. Shimmering purple accents traced in veins along his gauntlets, boots, and mask. The suit was more than just armor, it absorbed impacts with ease, redistributing kinetic energy to protect its wearer while maintaining Necalli's agility. The vibranium also reinforced the retractable claws in his gloves, which gleamed faintly under the light as they silently extended and retracted. Sharp enough to tear through metal, they lay dormant until needed, hidden in the folds of his fingers.

His belt carried compact smoke bombs, designed to vanish in an instant into a thick, suffocating mist, and poisoned darts crafted from bone, tipped with deadly venom. Necalli's spear, sheathed at his side in its collapsed form, was also made of vibranium. Its sharp edge gleamed with faint purple etchings, and its handle extended at a moment’s notice, transforming it into a deadly weapon capable of cutting through nearly anything.

The helmet, stylized after a sleek and fearsome panther, offered perfect visibility in the darkness. Its feline contours merged seamlessly with the suit, the vibranium reinforcing key areas without hindering his movements. The eyes of the mask glinted in the darkness, catching the faintest light as Necalli moved, with a simple tap it could change to Nightvision or Thermal. Not that Necalli needed it, the heart shaped herb had enhanced his eyesight to see in even almost pitch black.

Draped across his back was a thin, durable cloak, made from a fabric interwoven with vibranium fibers. It added a layer of protection while still being light and flexible, allowing Necalli to vanish into the environment at will, like a shadow fading into the night.

More reports of invaders had come in, and they were only increasing. Necalli had been surprised when he first confronted his father about them, but even more surprised when he was made privy to how often these events were happening. His orders as always, were to dissuade them from coming back, send them down a wrong path and scare them off hoping they wont come back.

Necalli thought it was all so pointless. They'd done this time and time again what would make this time any different?

As he neared the location they were spotted at, a concerning smell reached his nose. Smoke. Man made smoke. He picked up the pace, brushing past trees quickly as he began to see the clouds of black fumes rising up from the ground. What's worse was the sound of the hiss that caused it all. Flamethrowers. These savages weren't content with being turned around. They wanted Dorado, and if they couldn't find it through normal means then they'd burn the jungle down to find it.

Necalli felt a surge of rage pulsing through him as he clung to the tree. How long could this go on for? Would they allow these men to burn the whole jungle down to reach Dorado? And what then? Hope the shield holds up? By that point these soldiers will have taken their photos and Dorado would be revealed to the world anyway. It was time for action. Necalli could no longer stand idly by while his home was destroyed.

For a moment a faint glimmer of doubt took hold of his heart. Taking action without the permission of his father was tantamount to treason. He glanced across the burning jungle to a burnt tree, still somehow standing despite its base engulfed in climbing flames. On it crouched the first Black Panther, the man Necalli had seen watching him during his spirit journey. He had been having these hallucinations since then, seeing ghosts that weren't there. He took this as a sign. The first panther wouldn't stand for this, he would act.

He slid the spear from his belt and flicked his wrist, causing it to extend to its full length in his hand.

Necalli crouched low, watching from above as the mercenaries with flamethrowers moved through the undergrowth. His muscles coiled like a predator's, his spear vibrating faintly in his hand. The jungle crackled around them, consumed by flames that these men had set to flush out anything, and anyone hidden in the dense foliage.

Necalli's anger simmered beneath the surface, ready to explode. These invaders weren't just intruders; they were destroyers. And this time, words and warnings wouldn't be enough.

The first mercenary didn't even know what hit him. Necalli dropped silently from the trees, his suit absorbing the shock of the landing. In one fluid motion, his spear sliced through the man's throat, the body collapsing in a heap before he could let out a scream. His retractable claws flashed under the dying embers of the firelight as he dragged the body into the shadows before the others noticed.

The jungle swallowed the sound of the kill, but not for long. A flamethrower hissed in the distance as another mercenary swung around. "We got something!" he barked into his radio, noticing his comrade's blood trail leading deeper into the jungle. The roar of fire flared up again as he sprayed the surrounding trees, desperate to flush Necalli out.

Necalli crouched low and rolled forward, narrowly avoiding the brunt of the flame. The fire splashed against his suit, but it dissipated harmlessly as the vibranium weave almost all but neutralized the heat. He moved, a blur in the darkness, closing the distance between him and his next target.

Two more men appeared from his right, weapons raised, their flashlights cutting through the smoke and shadows. One of them shouted "There!" as he fired a burst of bullets in Necalli's direction.

Necalli twisted his body, gripping the end of his cape and swinging it around him as a shield. The vibranium infused fabric flared out around him, hardening upon impact with the bullets. The rounds slammed into the cloak, stopping dead in their tracks, the kinetic energy being absorbed harmlessly into the suit. As the fabric fluttered back into place, Necalli reappeared, his claws gleaming in the moonlight.

He sprinted forward, the movement so fast the men barely registered him as more than a blur. The first soldier swung his rifle, trying to get a shot, but Necalli was already upon him. His claws extended, slicing through the barrel of the rifle as he knocked it from the man's grip. Necalli brought his fist down, claws puncturing through the soldier’s chest plate, then spun, using the body as a shield against incoming fire from the second.

The remaining man panicked, spraying bullets wildly. Necalli flicked his wrist again, hurling the body of the fallen soldier forward, crashing into his comrade with a sickening thud. He followed the momentum, leaping into the air, his spear aimed with deadly precision. It pierced the first man's back straight through the second, pinning them both to the jungle floor.

For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the crackling of the fires around them.

Necalli's breath came steady. His suit pulsed faintly, redistributing the stored energy he had absorbed from the earlier attacks. The flamethrowers hissed in the background, the inferno threatening to consume everything. Necalli reached for his belt, tossing a compact smoke bomb at the remaining men who had been watching in horror as they swung their flamethrowers around to burn him. It exploded in a cloud of thick black mist, obscuring their vision completely.

Before they could react, Necalli was already inside the cloud.

One man screamed as claws tore across his chest. Another fired blindly, the muzzle flashes giving Necalli brief flashes of his desperate face. Necalli ducked low, then surged forward, his elbow slamming into the man's jaw with a satisfying crack. He dispatched the last with a fluid motion of his spear, the blade slicing clean through the flamethrower tank strapped to his back. The mercenary screamed, but it was too late, the equipment burst into flames, engulfing him in the fire he had unleashed on the jungle.

Necalli emerged from the smoke, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the scene. He crouched beside the fallen mercenaries, his enhanced senses picking up something strange amidst the scorched earth and scattered equipment. As he sifted through their belongings, he noticed a small, reinforced tactical pouch attached to the leader's belt. His eyes narrowed, it was too sophisticated for regular mercenary gear.

Carefully, he removed the pouch and inspected it. The material was heat resistant, designed to withstand extreme conditions, and the lock required a complex code to open. Necalli tapped into the technology integrated into his suit, scanning the lock with his mask. A faint, almost imperceptible pulse of energy disrupted the code, and the lock clicked open.

Inside, he found a set of encrypted documents and a compact tablet. The tablet's screen flickered on, revealing fragments of communication logs and schematics. Strange symbols and coded instructions jumped out at him, along with blurry coordinates that linked back to several key locations around Dorado. One logo caught his attention. A stylized claw, stamped repeatedly on the documents and interface.

He looked over some of the equipment around him. It was cutting edge technology for the outside world, largely unmarked, but some labeled with the cryptic initials L. Corp. Necalli's eyes narrowed. He didn’t recognize this name, or the claw symbol, but it was clear this wasn't a simple mercenary mission. Whoever sent these soldiers had deeper plans for Dorado than just exploration or looting.

Necalli pocketed the tablet and encrypted papers. Whoever was behind this operation had vast resources and ambition, and it was clear they weren't going to stop until they uncovered Dorado's secrets.

Necalli stood, the jungle crackling and smoldering around him. The hunt was far from over. His father would find out about his transgression, and no doubt he would be punished. But before that, he would take this evidence to his sister for research. Hopefully she could help him track whoever it was encroaching on their territory.
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Hidden 16 days ago 16 days ago Post by Hound55
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Hound55 Create-A-Hero RPG GM, Blue Bringer of BWAHAHA!

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"Owwww!" I whined, rubbing the back of my head and untangling myself from my chair.

"Heh-HA! Whadda spaz!" Flash guffaws in that instantly identifiable and irritating manner he has.

"Sir, could I go to--"

"Absolutely, Mister Parker." Came the instant reply, before I could even finish the sentence. He scrawled on a Hall Pass and handed it to me, with the intent I go to sick bay.

"Oh, whatta rip! How come Parker gets to cut out while the rest of us have to--"

"Chalk it up to a four year unblemished record of honesty, good grades and stalwart effort, Eugene."

"Ehhhh... not worth it."

"And since Mister Thompson seems to have such eagerness to have the opportunity to turn those grades around to earn the same goodwill... Surprise quiz." Papers began to fall to desks.

"Oh, Come On!"

As I open the door and turn back to look at the class, rubbing my head and the phantom pain it should presumably hold, I briefly hold Flash's eyes for a fraction of a second.

But it was more than enough.

"Thanks a lot, Parker. You're dead meat."

Great. So I guess I've got that to look forward to.

Minutes later I'm swinging down towards the Financial District and the Battery, trying to put all of this behind me.

I've got to come up with better excuses than pratfalls. My dignity's not going to be able to take much more.





S P I D E R - M A N
S P I D E R - M A N



Oh, I should probably give you the hows, whats and whys. Bigshot journalist that I'm trying to be now...

...alright. Bigshot newsmedia website administrator who they presumably let me write the occasional thing, because they actually want me for the other things I can do.

Don't know the Hows and Whys. About to find that out, I guess.

But the what?

Extreme flood warning. Swells over twenty feet coming from Manhattan, bearing down on Liberty and Ellis Islands. Liberty Island apparently taking the brunt.

Only thing is... I'm looking at a bright, sunny day.

So those hows and whys. They've got me peaked. Piqued?

They've got my interest piqued. And me swinging for the peak of a stupidly high building to do something less than sensible. That's it. That's the way that goes.

"Pe-- Spider-Man, Spider-Man, Spider-Man... This is a reeeeally bad idea."

As I lean back in the saddle, every wall-crawling fibre of my being stretching the full tension of the webs, that are about to slingshot me across the water, my gums flap as they do when the tension of the moment isn't lost on me.

Two miles. It's two miles from The Battery to Liberty Island.

I've had Spider powers for-- less than two weeks, in some capacity? There's no chance that this ends well.

"This looks like a job for-- well, if I'm being honest, Superman. But since this isn't his city, I guess we'll see what the resident web-slinging representative can do about this."

I release and the webs fire me across the water.

"Oh... I am... I am going very fast. And down. Too down. Too much down!"

I see a ferry beneath me, and manage to tag it with a webline, and with a hard yank using my other arm as leverage, I give myself a little more loft just before I would have splashed down into the Hudson.

"Probably should have tried to land on that ferry..."

Whizzing by at a flat trajectory, my eyes almost pop out of my head as I see a woman run past me on my right.

"Overtake on the left! Tourists! Not gonna... try and catch me? Well, alright then, I'll figure out the water landing by myself..."

This is not going to be fun.

Then I see it. Ahead, small at first, but growing fast with the speed I'm moving at. A tugboat. Small, and looking even smaller from how low and heavy it was sitting in the water.

I'd like to say I aimed, but physics wouldn't be that complimentary to me.

I manage to raise my hands in front of my face, just before I slam into the side of the tugboat.

Shocked people turn and stare.

"Now..." I say, panting heavily in shock. Both hands and feet pressed firmly against the hull. Almost too stunned by what happened to move.

"Did anybody see how I just did that? Because I'm gonna want to know how I just did that."

I jumped off to solid ground and started lending assistance to soaked tourists, who were being rescued by the two women already there. Directing them to the higher ground that Lanterns were providing.

"Also, I'm pretty sure I--" I pat around my hips. "--I did. I'm gonna need for some of you to spring for the ferry the other way, because I'm pretty sure that won't work on the way back, and I left my wallet in my other pants. Cabcharge? Somebody spot a Spider-Man an Uber? If we all just throw in a buck this should work out easy..."
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Hidden 14 days ago Post by Sep
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Sep Lord of All Creation

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"Run Iris, Run."


Digging deeper than she had yet as she raced down the runway she didn't so much hear, as feel the sonic boom. She had done her best to commit the directions to memory as she took off cross country. Lightning tickled at the edges of her vision, each step taking less than a fraction of a second as she powered along the interstate. She couldn't see the shockwave, but she knew it was following her. Rocking cars in her wake, everthing at this speed sat perfectly still. Nothing even came close, Iris was like a bolt of pure electricity.

Coming skidding to a halt at the edge of the bay she was nearly knocked over as the air caught up to her. Several people screamed. "Don't worry, I'm here to help!" Iris managed to push out inbetween breaths.

"With-?" Iris turned to the source of the voice, an older man with a thinning moustache.

"The tidal wave?"

There was murmurs of confusion around her, some panicked, some laughed.

"You sure you aren't lost lady? This is New Jersey, we don't get no tidal waves."

Iris walked over to the railing at the edge of the water looking out towards the bay. There Lady Liberty stood, same as always. From here it looked perfectly dry, boats were still sailing towards it. Nothing seemed terribly amiss.

"I don't, I don't understand. He just called me and-"

"Called you? Whatever you're taking to run fast is messing with your head, the phones are all down!"

"No wait, they've been back, are they down again?"

The man just waved a hand dismissively at her, bored with the conversation.

Pulling her phone out from her trouser pockets through a special flap in the suit, Iris unlocked it and as if on cue, the time jumped. From 12:09 to 12:00. The bars of service were replaced with a SERVICE UNAVAILABLE. Her most recent call? 12:07. Her confusion and reverie were broken however when she heard the screams. Turning towards the group of people, she pivoted again as a wall of water rose up perfectly stationary. Then it was as if it was pushed towards the statue.

Focus Iris.

She looked over the barrier at the water. There were several species of bug that could run on water, boats practically floated once they were fast enough. Iris took a run back giving herself a block to pick up speed.

This isn't the craziest thing you've done all day. Which was an absolutely ridiculous thought to pass through her head, however true it was. Taking a deep breath, and ready for the inevitable plunge, she ran for it. Jumping the banister, pushing herself over it - thanks High School Gymnastics, she landed on the water.

Iris had to refrain from panicking as her first foot sank slightly. Her second sank slightly less. Building up speed she ceased to sink until she was running along the top of the water. The time it took for Iris to work up the courage to take the leap, the wave had already hit. Water washing and swirling along the concrete island at the base of the statue of liberty.

She started grabbing people out of the water, throwing them - as delicately as possible - onto the remaining island.

A flash of Red and Green overhead, someone tried to call something to her as they went gliding passed. She didn't notice however, as a plume of water shot up in the air right in front of her. Twisting, she lost her footing and fell. Bouncing and skidding across the water tumbling head over heels she eventually landed in the water, dazed and confused.

Looking around she saw a young woman helping pull others to safety. "Hey did you see tha-" Before Iris could get another syllable out of her mouth she felt something clamp around her ankle and pull her under. Gasping as she went down it took all her discipline to refrain from gasping out. Eyes open in the murky depths she saw a humanoid figure in the water beneath her. Kicking at what she suspected was its face, she was rather surprised by the fact that it felt like kicking metal rather than squishy flesh.

Which probably wasn't good.
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Hidden 12 days ago Post by Half Pint
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Half Pint

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Volume 1 - The Heir of Dorado
Yaretzi



Necalli had rushed home and pushed through the heavy doors into his sister, Yaretzi's lab. He could instantly feel the hum of advanced technology surrounding him. The sleek, polished floors reflected the glow of various holographic displays that floated in midair, cycling through data faster than his eye could follow. Glass walls sectioned off different workstations, each filled with cutting edge equipment that looked like it belonged in a facility decades ahead of the outside world.

In one corner, a massive quantum computer whirred softly, its core emitting a faint, bluish glow as it processed vast amounts of information. Digital interfaces covered the walls, projecting detailed schematics and intricate 3D models that flickered and rotated with a simple wave of Yaretzi's hand. Drones hovered near the ceiling, quietly observing the various experiments in progress.

At the center of it all was Yaretzi, perched on a stool at her main workstation, surrounded by monitors displaying lines of code, chemical formulas, and real-time simulations. A holographic keyboard materialized as her fingers moved, each keystroke shifting data across the screens.

"Yaretzi" Necalli called, his voice breaking the soft mechanical hum. He was still in his Black Panther suit. His parents had known better than to hide anything from Yaretzi, despite her age she was by far the smartest of their children. It would only have been a matter of time before she figured out what was going on. Necalli took his mask off.

She glanced up from her work, her brow creased with focus. "Necalli? What are you doing here?" She spun on her chair to face him. "Before you ask, no I can't give you a brain transplant, despite how badly you need one." She grinned. Her brother was in no joking mood and she could feel this. He'd usually send a verbal jab back her way, but this time she was met with only awkward silence.

Without a word, he pulled out the encrypted tablet and the documents he had found on the mercenary leader. "I need your help. This is serious."

Yaretzi wiped her hands on her lab coat, rising from her chair and stepping closer to inspect what Necalli laid out on the workbench. Her eyes flickered over the files and the tablet with growing curiosity. "Where did you get this?"

"Mercenaries attacked the jungle. I stopped them, but their equipment, it's more advanced than anything I've seen. They were after Dorado."

Yaretzi’s fingers brushed over the tablet. "Did they say who sent them?"

Necalli shook his head. "I didn't exactly leave them in a 'chatty' mood after I was done with them. But look, this symbol" He said pointing at the claw stamp. "This is on almost all of the documents and some of their equipment had 'L. Corp.' printed on it. Does that mean anything to you?"

She blinked, clearly taken aback. "L. Corp? No, I've never heard of them."

Yaretzi turned to her computer, quickly plugging the tablet in and pulling up the files. The screen flashed with layers of encryption, but her fingers flew across the keyboard, navigating the maze of codes. "This is…sophisticated. Whoever they are, they're not just some low-level thug. They've got money and resources."

Necalli watched her work, his jaw tightening. "I figured as much. That's why I needed you. We have to know who we're dealing with."

Minutes passed as Yaretzi continued to crack through the layers of security. Finally, she managed to pull up some initial data, but the details were still fragmented. "It'll take more time to get through everything." she said. "This encryption is like nothing I've seen before."

Necalli's frustration grew. "We don’t have time. They'll be back, and next time, they’ll be stronger." He glanced over his shoulder. "Yaretzi, I’m afraid father won't be happy with the methods I used to get this information. I've gone against his orders, but I need to protect Dorado. When he finds out what I've done I might not be able to-"

Just as Necalli was about to finish, the door behind him burst open. His father, Moquihuix, stormed into the lab, his face dark with fury.

"You defied my orders!" Moquihuix's voice was like thunder. "I told you to deal with them silently, to leave them alive! And now you’ve endangered us all!"

Necalli spun to face him. "Father, I couldn’t stand by and do nothing. They were burning the jungle! They're close to finding Dorado! I had to act."

"You had no right!" Moquihuix's eyes blazed with anger. "You're not ready for this responsibility. Not ready to be Black Panther! You've compromised everything we've worked for!"

"I couldn't just sit back while the council debates in circles!" Necalli’s frustration boiled over. "We're running out of time! Everything we've worked for will be a pile of rubble if we let these savages find us!"

Before Necalli could say more, Moquihuix gestured to the guards behind him. "Take him to the holding cells."

Necalli's eyes widened. "What?!"

"You need to learn discipline." Moquihuix said coldly. "Until I decide otherwise, you'll stay there. Perhaps then you'll understand the weight of your actions."

The guards seized Necalli's arms, and despite his resistance, they led him away. Yaretzi watched in shock, unable to intervene, as her brother was dragged out of the lab and toward the underground cells.

As the heavy doors closed behind them, Necalli#s mind raced. He knew the danger Dorado faced was far greater than his father realized, and now, trapped in a cell, he was powerless to stop it.
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Hidden 12 days ago Post by Supermaxx
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Supermaxx dumbass

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UOU Presents: THOR, GOD OF THUNDER
ISSUE #9: A Soldier's Plea

A Fortress in the Mountains Germany

In the mists of old memory, a castle stood in Alpine mountains. Field guns and anti-aircraft turret stood sentinel on ancient stone walls. Men in grey-green woolen uniforms patrolled the parapets. They were gaunt-faced, pale ghouls who'd seen too many winters with too little food. Symbols of evil were pinned proudly to their sunken chests: the swastika, clutched in the talons of an eagle; and the head of the hydra, with its many reaching tendrils.

Below the walls, the castle courtyard bustled with activity. Frantic soldiers fought to roll nine massive boulders into a circle while imprisoned craftsmen carved occult runes into stone. A gaggle of officers directed the work. Among them stood a tall, slender man with dark hair and emerald eyes. The corners of his lips never fell from their slight smirk.

"The work is nearly finished. The Führer will be pleased, I hope."

Another officer looked up, astonishment and bewilderment plain on his face. "The Führer is dead, sir. Months gone."

"Oh, is he? Drat." The emerald-eyed man's grin rose a little. "Then his heir will be most pleased, whoever they are."

With a flourish, he clapped his hands and stepped forward, raising his voice to address the garrison. "It is time to begin! Someone bring me my staff. Light the fires. The wonder weapon we shall use to win this war will soon be upon us."

The officer to speak up furrowed his brow and walked briskly up behind the emerald-eyed man. "Sir, you said Herr Shmidt sent you here-"

"Yes, Mr. Smith, good fellow."

"Shmidt. But we have not heard from him in some time. Not before you showed up out of nowhere with all this talk of- of magic and, well, the officers have some concerns-"

With a flick of his wrist, the emerald-eyed man sent a handful of pixie dust directly into the Nazi officer's eyes. He spat, sputtered and coughed, waving in the air to clear it. "W-what the devil did you do?!"

"You trust me implicitly. With your life and the lives of all your men."

The Nazi stopped. He turned his now bloodshot eyes toward the strange sorcerer with the pixie dust. "I trust you implicitly, of course." He stumbled for a moment, righted himself, and then threw up as crisp a salute as he could manage. "Hail HYDRA!"

The sorcerer waved him off. "Yes, yes, hail HYDRA. Now leave me to my work before the Allies arrive to spoil the fun."

"The Allies, sir?"

Moments later, a plane engine could be heard hollowing in over the mountains.

"Oh, goodie, right on schedule!" Loki Laufeyson declared, taking his staff from the hands of an aide and waving it in wild patterns above his head. The ritual fire danced in concert with his motions, and the voices of old spirits rose up in song.


Former Soviet Prison Siberia

Thor clutched his head as a spike of pain racked his mind. Moments from a forgotten past slipped through whatever enchantment plagued his memories. These were stranger than he cared to admit, seen not from his own eyes but from...

He felt his throat go parch. A cautious hand went to the wall so he might rest a moment. He needed time to think. Time to parse what was happening to him. These fragments did not explain the whole of the mystery, but they offered some few answers. T'was his late brother that placed this curse on him, clearly. And it explained how a man of present day Midgard might know the ancient rituals of summoning.

Was the wielder of this shield not the honorable warrior Thor assumed, but instead an old agent of Loki seeking aid from his patron? That felt wrong somehow, as if he knew the answers yet it remained just out of reach.

"Answers. He will have answers for me." Odinson grumbled, shoving off the wall to rise once more.

It was only then that Thor noticed the guard hammering a baton against his back.

"Hm? Oh, my deepest apologies, warrior." Thor turned to face the man.

The guard, mid-swing, made direct contact with Thor's face. The god could only offer a remorseful look in response before knocking the man unconscious with a light punch. He tried to be gentle: it was the least he could do for humiliating the poor soul in the midst of battle.

Onward into the facility Thor pressed, following the sounds of battle as best he could amidst the chaos. With casual swings of mighty Jarnbjorn, he shattered the chains and broke open the cells of any prisoner that asked it of him. He had no idea who any of them were or what crime they might have committed to end up in a frozen hell like this, but it mattered not. Thor was already thrashing their wardens; to leave them here would only doom them to the cold, harsh future of a broken prison with no one to watch over them.

Thor tried to kill as few mortals as he could manage, but it was a difficult task. They were such fragile creatures. Skin like glass and bones of bark shattered more easily than he was used to. Still, he felt little guilt for the deaths he did bring. Each and every one of them would pass on to the gates of Valhalla. Carried to those halls by the Valkyries, they would be met with an endless well of ale and jubilation for all time. What better life could there be?

Somewhere up ahead, someone uttered his name.

Faster than anyone his size had a right to move, Thor charged forth. He stopped caring for petty things like hallways and doors. Instead, he lowered his shoulder and shattered concrete to make his own path. Guardsmen and prisoners alike scattered in a panic as he broke through wall after wall, finally emerging where he first heard the call go up. Here, he found a bruised and battered soldier doing battle with a crimson sorceress.

That was him. His square jaw, golden hair and bulky frame stood out like a beacon in his mind's eye.

"Never fear!" He bellowed, lifting his axe high. "The ALMIGHTY THOR is here!"

The shield practically leapt from his hands as Thor tossed it across the room to the soldier it truly belonged to.
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Hidden 6 days ago Post by Mao Mao
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Mao Mao Sheriff of Pure Hearts (They/Them)

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BATMAN
OLD GOTHAM
HOMECOMING - BITTERNESS


Harvey Dent. What more could be said about a childhood friend who undoubtedly had every reason to be furious? It was hard to blame him, given it had been years since their last farewell at a lively high school grad party. Rather than reaching out the moment he landed in Gotham, Bruce let two long weeks drift by in complete silence, with each day stretching on until Harvey decided he'd had enough and undoubtedly contacted Alfred to set up this long-awaited reunion. Seated outside a vibrant café, Harvey was finishing typing on his phone when he spotted Bruce approaching, an air of awkwardness trailing him like a shadow. As he took a seat across from his old friend, the tension was palpable, to say the least.

"Hey there, how's it going?" Bruce offered a hopeful smile, clearly aiming to lighten the mood.

Harvey raised an eyebrow, his face shifting into a scowl as he shot back with biting sarcasm. "'How's it going?' Seriously, Bruce? That's the best you can do after disappearing for eight years? No letters, no texts—just this? Impressive, truly."

"I needed to find myself, you know that." Bruce replied, a hint of regret flickering across his face as he spoke.

"Find yourself? Since when does 'ghosting' everyone in your life count as self-discovery." Harvey retorted, his voice edging towards a shout. "I never thought you'd just disappear on us—especially not on Alfred. He needed you just as much as you needed him. That girl from the repair shop and I had to step in, trying to fill the void you left behind. Just thinking about it gets me so fucking furious, Bruce."

Harvey was always merciless, his bluntness a constant since their middle school days. Fortunately, that hard-edged demeanor hadn't dulled with time. Perhaps that was exactly what Bruce needed—a stark reminder of the consequences of his choices, something Alfred would never have the heart to deliver. Feeling the weight of his friend's words, Bruce realized how much he had missed their dynamic over the years of travel. With a shaky breath, he finally admitted, "You're right. I shouldn't have pushed you, Alfred, or anyone else away. Yet, I chose to. Now, I'm here to make things right—not just with you, but with everyone I've hurt with my choice. I am genuinely sorry."

Bruce noticed a subtle shift in Harvey's demeanor; the fire in his eyes began to cool. He let out a deep sigh, and a faint smile crept onto his face. "Well, it's a start," he said, the edge in his voice softening.

"I guess those years away have worked some magic. You've actually grown up a bit." Harvey teased, unable to resist a jab.

Bruce chuckled in response. "You have as well, Chief Deputy District Attorney Dent."

"Yeah, well, nothing like uncovering the depths of Gotham's corruption to speed up the aging process," Harvey said with a bitter chuckle, shaking his head as a wry grin crept onto his face. "And what about those student loans!"

Alfred had informed him about Harvey's rise in the legal field. Fresh out of law school, Harvey participated in a groundbreaking lawsuit against the renowned Doctor Thorne for medical malpractice stretching years, resulting in revoking his medical license. Harvey caught the attention of the former District Attorney, who nominated him for his current position just before passing away from liver failure. Now, with a special election looming to fill the vacant position, whispers began to swirl that Harvey might be contemplating a run. It felt as if Gotham itself was beckoning to him, recognizing the potential hidden within the man willing to grapple with the shadows. This sensation was all too hauntingly familiar for Bruce—an echo of his current crusade. But this was something that could easily be something truly monumental. Unable to shake his curiosity, he leaned closer to his friend and asked:

"I've caught wind of your ambition to run for DA. Is there truth to those rumors?"

Harvey looked surprised before quickly giving way to a flash of irritation. "Don't put any stock in whatever the Gazette is spinning."

Bruce raised an eyebrow with a sly grin. "That's a shame. I honestly think you'd make a fantastic DA."

"Oh, y-you really think so?" Harvey stammered, his surprise giving way to an unmistakable spark of interest.

"Absolutely, Dent. You've always been the one to take a stand against injustice. I checked out your record as a prosecutor, and honestly, it's extraordinary. Taking down a caporegime in your first year? Getting justice for the victims of Dr. Thorne? I remember that day you almost got suspended for standing up to Tommy because you were fed up with his bullying. That moment made it clear to me: you were destined for greatness. And now, you have the chance to do even more." Bruce's voice was warm and sincere as he touched his friend's hand reassuringly. "I want a safer Gotham, and I'm convinced you're the only official who can make it happen."

Harvey sat speechless, the weight of the moment enveloping him. "I... I need to discuss this with Gilda. She's been encouraging me to run."

Bruce's eyes widened in surprise. "Gilda? Gilda Gold?" The name seemed to spark a flash of old memories, and his expression brightened at the revelation. The smile that spread across Harvey's face spoke volumes, filling Bruce with unexpected delight. Gilda had been a cherished friend from middle school, but she only knew Harvey from high school before moving away during their sophomore year. Now, the news of their rekindled friendship intrigued him more.

"Wow, how did that even happen?" Bruce asked.

"Well, she ended up attending the same law school as me, and then things just fell into place. We've been together for three years now. I really think she's the one." There was a warmth in Harvey's tone that made Bruce's heart swell with joy for his friend. Yet, amidst the happiness, a bittersweet ache lingered within him—a sorrowful reminder of the love that remained just out of reach as his crusade pressed onward.


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Hidden 5 days ago 5 days ago Post by Pacifista
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Pacifista Ponk-ifista

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“Okay, while you’re swinging your arms and shaking your hips to the rhythm, you alternate swinging one arm behind you, then both in front, then the other arm behind, then both in front. Keep going, yeah, like that.”

After a good 20 seconds of the two idiots synchronizing, Lobo grumbled, “Yeah, nah, I’m done. This is scuzzin’ lame.”

Stepping out of the restaurant, a very nervous server said, “Y-your table is ready!” The four moved in, Garfield sliding back to Koriand’r. “How was it?”

She handed back Rachel’s phone. “It was most interesting! Though this recording device was large and unwieldy, the video should be quite excellent! I kept it as stable as I could, though on my planet our devices operate without the need for hands, so I could have joined in as well. The dance was very simple, but whimsical!”

As Garfield checked over the footage, the phone was wrapped in Rachel’s black magic and pulled from his grasp. “Hey, don’t delete it! At least not until I get another phone.” Rachel shook her head as the four were seated at a table with a white and red checkered cloth, all eyes in the casual restaurant on them. Normally it wasn’t the kind of restaurant that made you wait for a table, but their party needed some accommodations…

“I don’t know what fraggin’ krollo a hot dog is but I ain’t leavin’ until I’ve had at least 20.”

“Hey, don’t fill up on dogs, we’re only getting started. They’ve got wings, burgers, corn dogs...we’ll get you.”

“Who’s paying for this? You’re broke.”

“I’m not broke I’m economically challenged. Look, I’ll pay you back for it later. I’m good for it, and once you do your familiar ritual thing that’s that.”

“Fine, you’ll pay for it. One way or another.”

Ignoring the ominous tone, Garfield rubbed his hands together as some trays with grilled hot dogs, fries, and bottles of condiment hit their spot. Lobo grabbed one and chucked it into his mouth whole, raising an eyebrow. “The frag is this?”

For a moment there was a hefty green pig awkwardly sitting at their table, then a chicken, then a cow. Human again, Garfield explained, “We take a bunch of the animals most popular to eat on this planet, and after their good cuts are sold elsewhere, all the extra bits are mushed together into a processed paste and molded into these little tubes. No leftovers. Oh yeah, and they say every hot dog you eat shortens a human’s expected lifespan by 35 minutes.”

“...Gnarly.”

Rachel put down her hotdog, a single bite taken out of it with no visible interest in having any more in her body language. “You eat animals? Even though you turn into animals?”

“I mean, I also turn into animals that eat other animals I turn into, so...” Taking a ketchup and mustard laden bite, he swallowed. “I don’t see a problem.”

“This yellow sauce as a sharp flavor, I quite like it when paired with the rather bland meat, um, paste mold.”

“What happened to the Spanish?”

“Oh! I only acquired both languages today, so please forgive my grammatical slip ups and errors. My race has a capacity to transfer certain sought after knowledge from interlocking lips. I was desperate to engage with the people of this world so I did so with a woman selling food much like this. She was rather unhappy with the act, however, but I did learn Spanish and the tongue we are currently communicating in.” “English.” “Thank you! I only understand the words that have equivalent meanings in my own language, and through hearing you speak English I’ve been able to differentiate the two much more easily. I only want to be understood. Is the act of locking lips unpopular on this planet?”

Lobo had moved on to burgers, clearly zoning out on the conversation as he took them out in two bites each. “Oh, the opposite, kissing is really popular, but only between people in, like, love.”

“Oh my! That woman’s reaction was completely within reason. I did apologize but-”

“When are you going home again?” Taking a lone fry into her mouth, Rachel swallowed it before saying, “Buying some food to keep a planetary genocide from happening is one thing. Why am I paying for you too?”

Koriand’r grew flustered quickly. “I am deeply sorry! I merely went along with the flow of events without contemplation. I also haven’t eaten a meal of solid food in a number of day/night cycles, by Tamaranian measures.”

“C’mon, give her a break Ray-Ray.”

“Say that again and we’ll see how many pieces of silverware in this restaurant can be crammed into your throat.”

“Dinner and a show? You’re spoiling me.”

Koriand’r looked between the two of them. “Are you and Ray-Ray not friends, green one?”

“It was just a friendly joke!” Garfield was distracted for a moment as some chicken wings with a variety of sauces came out.

“It’s not Ray-Ray, it’s Rachel,” she said, voice envenomed. “And he’s Garfield, until I rename him.”

“Rename him? Is this part of a courtship ritual?”

No. It’s like with pets: it denotes ownership.”

“GAAAAWH WHAT IN THE FRAGGIN’ GOOD FOR NOTHING HELL-” Lobo’s screech silenced the restaurant that had someone reached a low level of normalcy in the lull of casual conversation between the odd party. Those nearest took some careful and cautious steps back as Lobo stood from his seat, the table rocking as he bumped into it, grabbing Garfield by the collar and yanking him up. “Poison doesn’t work on me but it stings like a bitch! You and me are gonna have words, the first one being my FOOT-”

“It’s just normal food!” Garfield pleaded. Koriand’r looked to Lobo’s array, sticking a pinky out and dabbing it on the end of a half eaten wing (literally: the right side, bone and all, had already gone to Lobo’s stomach). Sticking the dollop of red sauce into her mouth, her eyes unfocused and she let out a gasp, coughing as her body trembled. “W-what is this? It’s reminiscent of substances my kind would use to enact chemical warfare!”

Rachel stared. “You mean hot sauce?”

“I think that’s sriracha actually.”

Lobo’s red eyes narrowed. “Then eat it.” He dropped Garfield from his grip, the lad grinning. “Don’t mind if I do!” Scooping up some of the wing, he popped the whole thing in his mouth and twisted it, pulling a mostly clean bone off. He let out a whine, his face scrunching up and sweat beading on his forehead before he started to chill out, swallowing. Wiping his forehead, he flopped back down on his chair. “The pain’s part of the pleasure. It’s probably the capsaicin that didn’t agree with you.”

Kori’s eyes shot wider. “That is an ingredient my people use to cow raging animals through pain induced fear.”

Rachel shrugged. “We use it in crowd control on humans, just don’t confuse pepper sauce for pepper spray.”

“Huh, I thought you humans were soft bastiches since you and your stuff broke real easy, but that’s not half bad. I’ll take some to go.” He punctuated that by popping the rest of the wing, bone and all, into his mouth. Sweat beading, he was visibly in more pain than any of their attacks had put him in before as he jaw crunched through the wing, but with a few labored breaths he finished the bite. “These are fraggin’ torture. You humans are scuzzin’ nutso.”

“You’re not supposed to eat the bones...actually never mind.”

-----


As the dusk set in, the four were out in a quiet parking lot, having moved there under the shadow of Rachel’s magic. Lobo’s vehicle had swooped in, the man slipping a few bottles of spicy sauce into its storage.

“Well, it was a rocky start, but honestly, glad to meet you Mr. Main Man.”

“Huh? You bozos are still here?”

“Er, well, it’s our planet and all.”

“Look, I can tell you’re a bunch good kids. Good little eggs. Well you can take those eggs and fraggin’ suck ‘em. I don’t actually like any of you, and you’re all real fraggin’ weirdos. The moment a bounty rolls around that’s worth it I will be back and I might be taking your hides with me, capiche?”

“...Was that an alien word or just Italian?”

“Kill yourselves.” Flipping them the bird, Lobo’s engine roared to life, litter scattering about as he blasted off, quickly becoming a light dot against the late afternoon sky.

“Oh, how thoughtful. His words might have been harsh, but the middle finger symbolizes unwavering trust and long lived faith!”

“...Uh, sure, we’ll go with that. Actually are we gonna talk about how he was totally, like, an 80s biker from space?”

“Well that was a complete waste of my time and money.” Throwing her hood up, she jabbed a finger against Garfield’s chest. “That’s supposed to be travel money to support my campaign, not appeasement for intergalactic gluttons. Start paying it back sooner rather than later, while I’m still accepting it in currency, and not-”

Koriand’r leaned in between the two, still towering over both. “Oh, I can compensate you for your troubles. My sister’s coup has deposed me and my parents from our stations, so I may not have the funds I’m used to- oh! Your planet is not aligned with Interplanetary Banking. I would have to go offworld to-”

Garfield stared, eyes darting back to the sky, he mumbled, “We’re cool, but maybe don’t mention the ‘deposed princess’ part to anyone else.”

Rachel turned to head off, but it was not Garfield to follow first. “Please, I did not mean to trouble any of your world, but the two of you have been most helpful to me, it would be deeply shameful if I were to part ways without repaying your heroism.”

Rachel visible flinched at that last word. Garfield swooped in, throwing an arm over her shoulder and whispering, “You don’t have to be so pissy, let’s let her tag along for a bit. What else is she going to do?”

Rachel threw his arm away. “Not my problem, or yours. Let the government handle it. FBI, CIA-”

“MIB.”

“Whatever alphabet soup some stupid retired bigwig with too much free time and government blood money is cooking up. She cheerleader, me goth. It’s not happening. Let’s go.”

“A leader of cheers? I suppose my position as princess could be interpreted as such.” The alien royal was a good few feet away from Rachel and Garfield’s hushed mumbles.

“...When humans whisper, it means we don’t want to be heard by other people.”

“Oh, I will close my ears then, I do apologize.” Her hands were quickly clapped on the sides of her head.

Ignoring her, Rachel turned back to Garfield. “A stray animal like you has no business picking up other strays. She’s a liability, and you don’t have the coverage.”

“She’s alone on another world. If we leave her be she’ll be in more trouble.”

“And what will she accomplish in staying with us? You think she’ll be fine with my ultimate plan? Or should we lie to her and get her to help us unwittingly.” Garfield went quiet, face tight as he tried to process that. The two stood in silence for a moment, before Rachel stroked her chin, looking back at Koriand’r, who was watching a few birds pick at the ground for food. A ways off “On second thought...”

Garfield’s mouth flopped open as Rachel turned to Koriand’r, motioning for her to listen. “After conferring with my familiar, I’m going to give you an opportunity. I’m currently on a mission to find a large number of places of magic on this world and leave my mark on them. Every one of them is a black box: meaning that there’s no guarantee as to what we’ll encounter. W-”

“How did you even find these places?”

Rachel glared at the interruption. But even as their was bile in her words, she answered, “Meditation on a leyline with a map. It’s rudimentary. Finding the locations isn’t the hard part, it’s getting there. Even a simple garbage dump turned out to be more than I was prepared for.” She turned back to Koriand’r. “If you’re fine with putting your life on the line to help me leave my mark, then you’re more than welcome to join me for as long as you wish, on one condition: you do as I say, no questions.”

Koriand’r stood in thought for a moment, face going from curiosity, to contemplation, to determination. “I will pay my debt to you for your assistance, but I will not simply trade one set of chains for another. My heart will remain free. And I would quite like to become familiar with the two of you as well!”

Garfield’s chest swelled, an anxiety of his own coming to relax, but to his surprise, Rachel smiled at him. And there wasn’t warmth in it. “Very well.”

She started to float from the ground, Koriand’r joining her in the air. Garfield murmured, “You’re a real piece of work.” He didn’t know what she had in mind. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure what he was thinking, but as he turned into a green crow and joined them in the air, the three of them flying off to who knew where, he was just glad that none of them had been left.
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Hidden 4 days ago Post by Half Pint
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Half Pint

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Volume 1 - The Heir of Dorado
Return to Tradition



Necalli had been in the cell for what felt like days. All he could feel was the damp, cold stone pressing against his skin as he sat with his back to the wall. His thoughts were a mix of anger, frustration, and worry. His father had imprisoned him for acting out of line, but Necalli still believed he had done what was necessary to protect Dorado. Yet now, trapped in a dark cell, all he could do was replay the events over and over again in his mind. He tried to focus, to meditate like he had been taught, but sleep would claim him in waves.

But there, in the heavy silence of the prison, something shifted.

The torchlight dimmed, and the air grew heavy. Necalli blinked, trying to shake off the weariness that had settled over him after hours in the cell. But when he looked up, he wasn't alone.

Before him stood a figure, towering and almost primal in appearnace. The first Black Panther stepped forward, his voice deep and commanding, echoing in the narrow confines of the cell. "You wear the mantle of Black Panther, and yet you sit idle while your people are in danger."

Necalli froze, his eyes widening. This was no ordinary vision, it was vivid, sharp, more real than the world around him. He felt like he could reach out and touch the man in front of him had he not been rooted to the ground in fear. He wanted to speak, but the words caught in his throat.

The figure crouched down, leveling his gaze with Necalli's. "Your prison is not these walls. It is your hesitation, your doubt." His voice seemed to resonate in the stone. "You have the strength of your ancestors within you. Escape is not just about force but about seeing the world beyond what it is."

Necalli's heartbeat quickened as the Black Panther raised his hand and, with a flick of his wrist, the cell walls began to shift and change. The bars seemed thinner, the mechanisms in the walls revealed themselves, and he could see the guards' patrols. In his mind's eye, the path to freedom appeared.

"You are a protector." the first Black Panther continued, his voice like a war drum in Necalli's head. "You will find the way out, not through brute strength, but through wisdom and cunning. The mantle you wear is not just power, it is knowledge."

Necalli blinked, and just as quickly as the vision had appeared, it faded. But the clarity remained. He could see it all; the weak points, the guard patterns, the way to freedom. The path was there.

Before he could act his vision was broken by the sound of the heavy cell doors creaking open. Yaretzi slipped into the room, her face half lit by the dim torchlight in the corridor. She had a determined look in her eyes, but it softened as she saw the condition her brother was in.

"You look like death." she muttered, kneeling beside him and passing him a small tablet through the bars. "I cracked the encryption. You were right. L Corp isn't just any company. It's short for Lexcorp."

"LexCorp?" Necalli repeated, confused. "What's that?"

"From what I gathered, it's a massive corporation, one of the biggest in the world, led by some guy called Lex Luthor. Imaginative name for his business, I know. But here's the thing, Luthor is just funding this operation. The real mastermind behind it all is called Klaue. The same Klaue who's been linked to military grade arms deals, mercenary operations in remote parts of the globe, and supplying black market tech to criminals the world over. He's been funding research on Dorado for years. God knows why or how he's convinced we exist, but he's getting close to proving it."

Necalli frowned, taking in the information. "So, Luthor is what? Some kind of businessman? Why is he helping Klaue? What stake does he have in this?"

"Businessman is putting it lightly. He's more like a billionaire with too much money and too many secrets." Yaretzi said, leaning closer. "But it's not him you need to worry about. It’s Klaue. He's obsessed with finding Vibranium. Some of the documents on that tablet mentioned it directly."

Necalli's anger simmered beneath the surface. "We have to stop them."

"You think?" Yaretzi smirked, then turned serious. "But first, we need you out of here."

Necalli's mind raced. His vision of the first Black Panther echoed in his thoughts. He could still feel the presence of that ancient warrior, trying to guide him out.

He stood, his muscles aching, but his spirit was renewed. "I already know how to get out."

Yaretzi blinked, caught off guard by Necalli's sudden shift in demeanor. "You do?" she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper. "The guards are right outside, and this place is sealed. I don't even think father's expecting you to even try escaping."

Necalli smirked as he looked around the dim, cold cell. "The guards won't be a problem. They're not the ones who keep me here." His voice was steady, filled with the certainty that came from his vision.

Yaretzi hesitated, unsure if her brother had truly lost it or if he had a legitimate plan. "So, what's this brilliant idea of yours?" she asked, still skeptical.

Necalli stepped closer to the wall of the cell and ran his hand over its surface, feeling the rough stone beneath his fingertips. "It's not about force. It’s about knowing the path." he muttered. "I had a vision, Yaretzi. The first Black Panther...he showed me a way out."

Yaretzi raised an eyebrow, unsure what to make of it. "You're telling me a ghost gave you escape tips?"

Necalli grinned. "Something like that."

Yaretzi shook her head, half in disbelief, half in a faint smile that suggested she was intrigued. "Alright then, ancient ghost wisdom it is." she muttered. "So what now?"

Without another word, Necalli scanned the cell, his gaze sharp, picking out every detail. His vision hadn't left him completely; it still lingered in his mind like a map. His fingers brushed over a stone that looked slightly out of place. He pressed down, feeling it give way ever so slightly, and suddenly there was a faint click.

Yaretzi's eyes widened as a section of the wall shifted, revealing a slim opening just big enough for him to slip through. "How did you know that was there?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Necalli didn't answer directly. "The first Black Panther understood every corner of this palace, and now, so do I."

He slipped through the narrow passage, the cold stone brushing against him as he moved quickly but carefully through the cramped space. He glanced back at his sister one last time before heading deeper.

"This might be the last time I see you for a while Yaretzi. Once I'm out of here there's no turning back until I can prove to father and the council what Klaue is doing. I promise I'll come back for you, for Dorado."

His sister could only nod, there weren't words for such a moment.

The tunnel was tight and damp, twisting through dark corridors behind the main structure of the palace. But every step felt guided, as if the first Black Panther himself were showing him the way. Necalli moved quietly, slipping past a few side tunnels that opened into larger chambers used for storage or palace security. He took turns by instinct, winding through the maze with a single goal in mind: the hidden chamber in his father's study. With any luck they'd have put his suit back there, he knew he'd need equipment to take down Klaue.

After what felt like an eternity, the passage opened into a shadowed corridor that led to the study. He crept forward, each footfall silent, until he reached the heavy, ornately carved door. Pressing his ear to it, he listened, nothing but the quiet hum of the palace, his father likely occupied elsewhere.

He slipped into the room and moved directly to the far wall, where he remembered the hidden mechanism his father had shown him before, and copied the movements he had done before feeling a soft rumble as a section of the wall shifted, revealing the entrance to the ancient chamber. Inside, suits of armor from past Black Panthers stood in silent rows.

He glanced at his suit, standing proud at the end of the long row of Panther's that stood before it. For a moment he felt himself reach out to grab it, but then his eyes caught with the oldest suit, the first Black Panther's suit.

Necalli reached for the suit, his hands reverent as he lifted the pieces and began to don them. As he fastened each part, a surge of strength washed over him, a sense of belonging that anchored his resolve. Fully dressed, he stood tall, feeling the weight of tradition settle upon his shoulders, the voices of his ancestors all but urging him forward.

He took a deep breath, his heart steady. The suit made for him would come later, that wasn't who he was yet. Their technology and shields had made Dorado complacent, afraid. It was time to return to the ways of the past.

He took a steadying breath and stepped out from the hidden chamber, crossing his father's study to escape out into the night. But just as he reached the window, a shadow moved in the doorway.

"Leaving so soon, my son?"

Necalli froze at the sound of his mother's voice. Citlali stepped into the dimly lit room, her expression unreadable, yet her gaze rested on him with a warmth that softened the tension in his chest.

"Mother..." Necalli began, uncertain. "I don’t expect you to understand, but I have to go. The council may not see the threat, but I can’t wait any longer. Outsiders are coming, and when they do we have to be ready to fight."

She looked at him, her eyes searching his face. Then, slowly, she nodded, her face softening with understanding. "The council's eyes may be clouded by fear, but a mother's eyes see clearly. I've known you were destined to wear that armor since you were just a little boy, even if your father tried to deny it."

Necalli's expression shifted from one of surprise to relief, but he still hesitated. "Father will be furious."

Citlali moved closer, reaching out to brush a hand over his shoulder, the ancient armor rough under her fingertips. "Let him be." she murmured, her voice steady. "Sometimes, our strength lies not in obeying but in following what we know to be right."

He looked at her, the gratitude plain in his eyes. "Thank you." he whispered, feeling a renewed strength surge within him. He hugged her for what could have been the last time in a long time.

With one last look at his mother, he turned to the window, ready to descend into the unknown, leaving behind the confinement of the palace and stepping fully into the legacy of the Black Panther.

"Go." she whispered. "Show them the true strength of Dorado."

And with that, Necalli leaped from the window, disappearing into the night.
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