Dblade26

Hunter X Hunter / Dragonball Inspired Roleplay

I am automatically more interested than anyone believes to be humanly possible! HunterXHunter is one of my favorite all time anime and manga and I'm big on Dragonball too, so something that draws from either of them is 100% my thing! Count me in!

Imaginary District: An Urban Fantasy RP reboot

Dojima Tenchi

Fortunately for Hoshiko at nearly the exact moment she was contemplating how to carry that many Takoyaki, a boy fell right out of the sky and landed with a small crash and a puff of dust a little ways away, still dressed in a school uniform rather than any sort of relaxed clothing for the occasion.

"Hmm...nope...still can't find that girl anywhere..."

Tenchi's more than human strength meant that he was very, very good at jumping but unfortunately not always so good at landing without making a scene. He had a mobile phone in one hand and had apparently been staring at a text message before he landed, but looked around and spotted Hoshiko at the Takoyaki stand after the dust cleared.

"Oh, Hi there Mori-San! Could you use a hand? I was looking for someone, but I'm not having any luck!"

Coruscant Sacked: Aftermath

~| The Jedi Temple on Coruscant |~
~| Day 1, 11^th hour |~

Khan circled his Master with his lightsaber in his hand, extended outward but not yet switched on. He kept his stance light, relaxed, almost curious rather than guarded and serious despite the training match they were supposed to be engaged in at the moment.

“Master, I am admittedly confused. I thought our time on Coruscant was supposed to be a brief period of rest from the battlefield. You know I always enjoy combat training, but won’t we have ample amounts of time to spend on it later?”

While it was true that the young Echani relished any chance to test his skills against and read further into his Master via their numerous sparring sessions, he’d also definitely been looking forward to getting to spend some time on Coruscant. The Temple meant a chance to further refine his Makashi techniques with a proper tutor well-versed in the style. More important than that, if anyone could believe he found anything more important, was that Coruscant itself hosted a variety of interesting life forms adapted to its sprawling urban terrain, especially on the poorly regarded lower levels.

Ever since he’d learned that they were due for this trip, Khan had been itching for a chance to slip away down there to study them. Well, he supposed he didn’t actually ‘itch’, but he’d been told there was a sort of imaginary brain-itching one meant with that phrase that fit his feeling exactly. All of which he tried very hard not to convey with his stance, regardless of most being’s relative inability to detect such things. Instead he ignited his saber and tried to look eager to spar. Not too hard, since a good fight was always something he loved.

“Patience my padawan, the day is still young. We’re not going to do anything extreme right now. Did you have something else in mind, Khan?” Denso stated calmly as he clenched one of his lightsabers, his other one clipped to his hip.

At the moment the Temple on Coruscant was quiet as usual, they stood in an open area within the massive building. Around the duo a few other Jedi milled, some training, others just watching. The Kiffar watched Khan circle around him, apparently at ease and brimming with curiosity judging from the young man’s stance.

His Echani apprentice was still a child, but reminded him of himself in certain ways. Already a proficient swordsman with a lightsaber, so eager to get stronger and do much more. A boundless ball of energy, he turned out to be the perfect training partner. A smirk appeared on Denso’s tattooed face as he quickly shot up his free hand, using the Force to yank Khan’s lightsaber from his hand. He then sheathed his own weapon, holding up the Echani’s weapon to the apprentice.

“First rule of sparring, never let your guard down, boy. Try to get your lightsaber back from me.” Denso said with a smirk, his usual wit shining through in his words.

Khan recovered from the initial shock of having his lightsaber yanked from his hand quickly enough. It served him right for not taking the exercise seriously, he supposed. He came up with a plan and tried to pry his lightsaber’s handle out of Denso’s fingers, but he knew he likely wouldn’t be able to get it back with sheer power. Instead as he yanked at the lightsaber to pull it and his Master towards himself and off balance, he pushed off on one foot with all of his Force-enhanced speed and power in a burst of speed and practically launched himself low along the ground, reaching for the handle in a sliding, skidding dash.

Denso watched as Khan first tried with pure strength to pry the lightsaber from his hand. He quickly abandoned the maneuver, realizing it wouldn’t get the job done. The boy was strong physically but not yet on his master’s level. He blinked as Khan used the Force in an unexpected move which almost caught the older Jedi off guard. As soon as he felt his body start to move, he shot his free hand out towards the Echani.

“Nice try, gotta be quicker than that though,” Denso playfully taunted as he used the Force to lightly push Khan away, onto the grass covered floor.

“We’re both in our armor still, Khan. Try to get me off my feet. Show me some of those Echani hand to hand moves.” He added, lightly tapping against the strong plating on his chest. The sound echoing the brief distance between the master and his apprentice. Then he changed his stance, into a more defensive one. The lightsaber still clenched unlit between his fingers.

Khan had hoped that a simple dash and some leverage might have caught his mentor off-guard. No such luck there. Well, Master was right that they were both armored. Strikes and some minor throws probably wouldn’t injure him much if at all. Besides, his Master outclassed him overall in both strength and skill, even if Khan sometimes wondered if he had less hand-to-hand training. He doubted he would seriously hurt the older Jedi either way.

“Well, if you insist, I think I have a few to try.”

Khan sized Denso up again for just a moment, then lunged forward with his right hand thrusting out in a palm strike against his Master’s armored chest to try and throw him off balance, stepping in again in almost one continuous motion as he snapped from that strike into a close-in shove driven with the point of his elbow. He tried to hook his foot around the older Jedi’s ankle as he did so, tripping him, all as fluidly as the Padawan could manage.

Denso’s smirk went away as Khan launched himself at him, the strike to his chest did not hurt but the strength of it shocked him. His leg was hooked by the padawan and he began to fall himself slipping towards the ground. As he started to fall he used to Force, bringing his hands against the ground and pushing himself backwards. Doing a backwards roll which put him a few meters away from Khan.

“Almost got me there, Khan.” The Jedi said as he held up the lightsaber, tossing it up in the air once before he caught it again. He then lifted his other hand up, and motioned with two fingers for the Echani to try again.
Khan’s mouth quirked into a smile at the corner before he quickly smoothed it back over. He’d spent most of his life now away from other Echani, but it still felt embarrassing to be prone to such wildly exaggerated displays of emotion.

“A non-Force User would’ve gone down, Master.” Khan wasn’t sure whether he meant it as a complaint, a compliment or just a notation for later use.

Rather than reflect on it, he accepted Denso’s invitation, this time more blatantly using Force Speed to rush him and unleash a series of punches in a quick burst of three, one to each shoulder and one to the solar plexus to try and destroy his balance. On the last strike he tried to use the Force to yank the lightsaber from his Master’s fingers again now that he was hopefully distracted.

Denso braced himself for each hit, rising his hands to catch each blow. He had trained in unarmed combat before with his padawan, still he was better with a lightsaber. He was slow in reacting to the last hit, his hand arriving to late as he felt the hit impact into him. He grunted as the lightsaber shot out of his hand and bounced across the ground.

“That was excellent Khan! The fun isn't over though.” Denso said with another smile as he dashed towards the lightsaber, aiming to scoop it up and continue the game of keepaway.

Khan raced after the fallen lightsaber the instant he felt his Master’s posture shift to pursue it, but his shorter legs meant he was at a disadvantage compared to Denso in a foot race. He tried to take a note from the Kiffar, reaching out with his right hand and the Force in order to bring the Lightsaber to himself even as they raced for it instead of relying on brawn or speed. Khan’s telekinesis never seemed to have the sort of raw, overwhelming power he knew some Jedi to possess, but he had something of a knack for performing small manipulations quickly and well, or so he thought.

Denso saw the lightsaber shake on the ground then shoot towards him as Khan dashed slightly behind him. He snatched it out of the air, then did another roll to get distance between his padawan and him.

“So close, you s-” Denso’s words were interrupted by the sound of blaster fire, which grew louder. Then several explosions outside of the Temple. He stared upwards as the tension in the area seemed to increase. Something strange was happening, the sounds reminded him of war. Was he hallucinating? No, others around him and Khan were reacting, some were even running away.

“Khan look out!” He shouted as an explosion rocketed the wall near them, showering debris all over the place. Denso had sprinted towards Khan, yanking him by the hand and pulling his apprentice away from the sudden chaos.

“What is happening?” His voice raised as he looked around rapidly, then handed Khan back his lightsaber.

Was the Temple under attack? Had the Sith somehow broken through? The very thought deeply affected even the hardened Jedi knight. He heard more explosions and more blaster fire, now even screams of terror and the scent of smoke in the air. Denso drew both his lightsabers, each sliding into his palms, momentarily unlit.

Khan gripped his lightsaber tightly in one hand, though his white-skinned knuckles couldn’t get any paler. It was an attack, it had to be an attack, but how was that possible? The Temple on Coruscant was supposed to be the safest place in the Galaxy. Then again, Khan’s mother had always told him that being prepared to redefine what was possible was part of what made a great strategist. In which case, this was the most insane and daring plan the young Echani had ever witnessed.

He barely had time to process the fact that he’d almost been killed in some kind of explosion before Denso had pulled him out of the way. Instead he was focusing on digesting information in little easy to swallow bits to try and form a plan and react. There were screams nearby, and blaster shots. People were running, though not everyone seemed to know where they were supposed to run. He was covered in dust from the debris of a nearby wall. He had been handed back his lightsaber and was gripping it tightly in his right hand.

All of this meant, in Khan’s mind, that they at least knew the general location of their attackers and that he was currently armed. There was only one reasonable conclusion to make.

“Master...I think...we may have to go fight off an invasion now.” He said, his voice rather tight, flat, and broken by coughing away the dust. Still though, he gained some solidity and determination in his stance as he said it.

It took Denso a moment to reply. He let out a deep breath, realization that their home was under attack. A beacon of peace and knowledge in the Galaxy besieged by the Sith. It had to be them, he could sense the dark side nearing, infesting the Temple. It was a bold, desperate move by the Empire but he expected no less from them.

“We have to. There's children in the Temple, civilians around it. It's our duty to protect them, follow me Khan.” Denso said as he took one more glance towards his padawan, then ran off towards where the sounds of chaos were the loudest. His lightsabers clenched in each hand. There were people they needed to help, Sith weren't known for their mercy even against the defenseless.

Khan followed after his Master at top speed. He had seen his fair share of battlefields for such a young Padawan, but he still wasn’t sure what to expect from an attack on the Temple itself. Either way, it was their duty to help and protect the Temple’s residents from the Sith.

Imaginary District: An Urban Fantasy RP reboot

Dojima Tenchi

Name: Dojima Tenchi

Age: 14

Gender: Male

Race: Hanyo

Appearance: like this

Personality: Tenchi is a fairly laid back and easygoing young man, encouraged to be that way in purposeful contrast to his rowdy, hotblooded and often absent father. He tends not to like violence, or really doing much more than hanging out with friends as a normal person as far as normal goes in the Imaginary District. That said, he's very devoted to the MYO and to his friends there and will fight hard to defend the Imaginary District and the MYO if he has to do so. His only other motivation is to change the perception of his family and the damage his father has done to their reputation. Tenchi adores his mother and wishes people wouldn't be so suspicious and afraid of himself, but finds his father irritating even if he sometimes likes him.

Abilities: Hanyo Physiology- Tenchi is a Hanyo, with a human mother and a youkai father, meaning he has some unusual quirks compared to a human. His father is a very rare and unusual type of youkai, a human youkai hunter that changed his nature by killing and being exposed to the blood of a thousand youkai. As such, Tenchi is already slightly faster, stronger and tougher than most humans his age and size. More importantly, the mixing of his human mother and unusual youkai father's blood has given him a very unusual ability, one that primarily manifests in his right arm.

Thousand Arm- When Tenchi chooses to release his power, his right arm is engulfed in an aura of black and red energy, a manifestation of the thousand youkai his father killed to earn his transformation. When in this state, Tenchi's arm is capable of different transformations that in some way mimic one of the types of youkai his father killed, though not always granting him the same abilities as said youkai. The Thousand Arm's default form is a mostly human arm made out of solidified red and black energy, though incredibly muscular. This grants him greatly increased physical power and due to being made of pure you-ki, the ability to be both resistant to and physically interact with magic.

The second form Tenchi currently has access to makes the red and black energy take on a flame-like quality and surround his arm and body, while the arm itself becomes slimmer and less strong-looking than the first version. It allows him to launch and control his energy in the form of fire, perhaps in imitation of a kitsune's foxfire. The third form makes his red and black aura swirl wildly around both arm and body, obscuring it from sight when he's not moving. The arm itself gains sharp claws at the fingertips and scalloped, blade-like fins at down the side of the arm. It increases his speed dramatically via the gale like wind, and allows him to use air pressure to increase clawing and cutting attacks at close range. The final form he has access to changes his aura to a light, icy blue along with the arm itself. In this form, he can 'freeze' himself in time, making himself unable to move or interact with others but impervious to nearly all physical effects. He can also do this to any non-living thing he touches with his right arm.

Skills: Tenchi has very few skills, though he's an incredibly skilled cook for his age mostly due to personal interest in cooking. He has no real fighting skills and mainly relies on the sheer power and versatility of his arm to get by when it comes to violence.

Equipment: Some sealing tags given to him by his mother and wrapped up in bandages around his arm to help him control his power.

Brief Backstory:

Dojima Tenchi is the son of a female onmyouji and an infamous Youkai Hunter, Dojima Hiroshi, known as the Thousand Killer. Hiroshi was once a human. Even then he possessed immense power, but after killing over a thousand youkai and being exposed to their blood, he transformed into an inhumanly strong youkai himself. Because of Hiroshi's reputation as a powerful and destructive figure, Tenchi grew up dealing with the suspicion and fear of many of those around him. He tried and succeeded in making a few friends, but he wanted to gain the trust of everyone and make people less afraid of his family name. To that end he joined the MYO, in order to publicly be seen doing good and helping the district. Instead of just that, he wound up making legitimate friends and coming to care for them.

No Turning Back - Into the Abyss

Lance sat leaning back into his office chair with his feet up on his desk, turning the events of his investigation into the missing cryo-pod over in his mind.

"Noah, open a private link to my audio log, maximum security. Oh and muffle sound in the room and lock the door, wouldja?"

Done and done, Captain Lawrence.

Lance had always found that talking his problems out tended to help sort them, after all.

"Lance's Log, Entry 4476-A

"This investigation into the cryo-pod theft was just like the 3D jigsaws I used to play with as a kid. I could see all the angles, but none of them fit together right no matter how I turned them around. Doctor Riadne was definitely hiding something, she's got a mind like a razor, cold, sharp and dangerous. but I didn't like her for this case. The blood samples I ran by the lab said we were looking for someone with an iron deficiency and if Loretta Riadne had any more iron in her, her hips'd clang together when she walked. Besides, the suspect, whoever they were, came from the Nagasaki Conglomerate."

"The knife was another troubling aspect to all this. It'd have to belong to either military personnel or Ark-Sec, but what did that mean? If it was one of my own behind it, who could I trust? It was funny, but it was starting to seem like life was simpler and more honest back when I was a spy. I was suddenly looking around me and wondering which one of my own squad of fifty field agents might be a criminal. Which one of them was just wearing a costume instead of a uniform? The thought kept running around and around in my head so much it was starting to wear holes through my skull. If the knife was stolen instead, maybe the owner reported it to the Quartermaster's office, but that would only make the search worse."

"Either way, I had a headache burning like a quasar behind my eyes and nothing to quench it with, not like in the old days, when I could just down a shot of that awful mix of rum and engine fuel the pirates drank to burn away the excess thoughts. I was drier than a Martian Barchan and whenever I reachrd out for answers, it was like I was trying to see through a sandstorm. I got nothing for my trouble but empty dust to choke on. If my mother could've seen me then, maybe she'd laugh, knowing I was finally learning to appreciate the kind of stress she was under. I wished she was here, then. I wished for it even with all of our...issues. The old gal always did know just what to do. Until I could say the same, I...decided I was gonna walk the beat until I got to the Quartermaster, to see if my feet could think better than my brain."

Lance's Log, Entry 4476-A, End."

Lance slipped his feet off of his desk and stretched as he planted them down on the floor. "Noah, lock up my office after me, usual protocols. I'm going on patrol."

He walked out and ignored the electronic chirp of reply, but not before strapping two guns, a pair of stun batons and his knife onto himself and making sure he had his badge. Lance didn't particularly like the A.I., but he found it was easier if he treated it like it was just a sort of odd, omnipresent person. To do otherwise gave his martian sensibilities all sorts of uncomfortable feelings, for all that he'd spent plenty of time away from Mars. He walked out of his Quad's base with the sort of polite-but-busy smile he'd been perfecting ever since he got the job, though it brightened a bit towards the Lieutenant Péloquin, the bubbly, hyper-competent desk officer that managed his ever-growing inbox full of paperless paperwork. It wouldn't do to upset the most powerful person in the office and besides, he liked her well enough.

"Out for a drink, Boss?"

How was it that she managed to read his mind whenever he didn't want her to read it? As a matter of fact, why could almost all the women in his life manage that?

"Not at all, Lieutenant. I'm going on patrol duty, so that my feet can still walk the corridors by memory."

She gave him a sort of lopsided smirk, part understanding and part fake lecture

"As long as they 'remember' to actually take you someplace where you can eat and sleep eventually, Captain."

He gave her half a grin and change then walked out and into the ship proper.

It was time to get back to work.

Absolute Comics: A Brave New World

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September 23rd, 1940

Near the Ain Gorge, France

Unfortunately for me, the bastards who tied me up had enough imagination to do it somewhere remote. But once I had my memory back it hadn't taken me long to remember enough of France to find the right train tracks again and follow them here. 'course, I had to kill a few more men to point me in the right direction once I got out of the basement, not to mention burn chi like crazy to get here fast enough. But the important thing was I'd gotten here alright.

The 'here' in question being a big old monster of a stone bridge all set to carry rail-mounted guns and who knew what else out of Paris...or was it into Paris? A night of breathing in what I could only assume was enough ether to knock out a dragon, ontop of dealing with my own drug-based demons and several blows to the head, well it all made for a pretty hazy state of mind. It took time and focus to properly heal oneself with the Chi of Shou-Lao, and right now I was shit out of both. But I could remember the mission well enough, which was more or less to smash up trains and train-lines however I could. Which brought me here, staring up at a big stone bridge where the forest met the shores of the Ain River.

I had no gear, no backup, and no explosives but my plan was pretty simple. I figured I'd just destroy it with my bare hands, considering it'd be the last thing anyone would expect. Well, that was provided I could still use the Iron Fist at all. Parlor tricks with a knocked-in tooth were fine, but I hadn't tried the Iron Fist proper since I walked out of that bomb-blasted drug den in Marseilles and signed on with the Resistance the very same day. Hadn't wanted to find out I might...

There was no more time to think about it, I leaped up into a tree and started hopping up from tree-branch to tree-branch. By the time I reached the tip-top of the one nearest to the bridge, I figured I could make it onto the first crossing level, the one for cars that needed to cross, as long as I had a good jump in me. I breathed in, let the breath fill me with that energy-that-surrounds-all-things Lei-Kung was so fond of rambling on, then sailed through the air easy as a summertime kite. There was an easier approach to the top level of the bridge, but there was also no sense getting spotted by some antsy villager or a collaborator on guard who needed a piss over the side.

I landed in a roll on the hard stone and didn't waste any time looking for guards here on the lower level. If they spotted me I'd have to keep going anyways, or risk failing the mission. So I just found a crack in the stones to use as an initial handhold and started climbing the support pillar that connected the two levels of the bridge. I guess most men wouldn't have tried to scale the masonry that way, in the dead of night, in hostile country, and with no tools. Most men weren't raised in the mountain heights of K'un-L'un, made to climb every day since the age of eight even when their fingers were numb with frostbite and a long day of punching buckets of hot gravel. I inched up that wall, willing strength into my fingers and toes, punching new handholds in where I found none, and grateful for the Thunderer's training having already deadened my hands to pain for decades.

I wondered what the Thunderer would think of me now, greatest student of my generation, covered in muck and blood, once again fighting in the wars of mortal men. He'd spared my life last time he saw me, recognized me for the broken weapon I was and left me to rust in peace. Would he feel sorrow to see me, or pride? Maybe he'd just throw some ancient wisdom in my face, impassive, but always teaching. Even after all these years my old master was still a mystery.

The bastard.

My thoughts trailed off as I grasped the top of the ledge and pulled myself up. I walked to the center of the bridge, preparing my mind for what came next. I breathed slow, reaching out for the Heart of the Dragon, letting its' fiery energy course through me more than I had in years. The night sharpened until I could count the stars in the sky, hear the rush of the river over seventy meters below me like I had my ear pressed to it, feel each bump and smooth spot in the stones through my boots. I burned with life, feeling it all, connected to it all. No more haze of ether, no more crawling, squirming addiction. No more ghosts staring at me out of the corners of my eyes. This, this right here was the only drug I could ever need. I was powerful, I was immortal, I was...

Alive.

I tried to focus it, the living fire inside me, temper it with all that I was, all that made me Orson Randall, focus it into my fist...

I would've screamed loud enough to give myself away if I didn't bite down on my cheek until I tasted blood hot on my tongue all over again. My hand felt like I'd just caught an exploding grenade, blasted it to bone chips and meat pulp. Even after looking down at it with my own eyes it was hard to believe it was still there, unharmed. The shock of it had me shaking in my boots and wanting to collapse right there on the train tracks. But I couldn't give up, just the thought of it started to make the ghosts drift out from the river underneath me. I just had to...

My hearing, still sharpened by the energy that had just tried to devour my hand, picked up the unmistakable sound of a train barreling down the tracks. I was too late. I'd been too slow or got knocked out too long, couldn't control my powers to destroy the bridge fast enough. The reason didn't matter, I'd failed. I could see the faces of everyone I'd already failed drifting in front of me again. There were so many from the last war, the one we thought would end all of them. Wendell was there too, always there looking like he did right before I'd lost him to K'un-Lun: so angry, with a hunger in his eyes for a life I could never give him.

No, I couldn't fail them all again. Not even with a train barreling down on me like a falling mountain. I reached deep into the Chi of Shou-Lao, opened myself up to it even more, diving into an ocean of fire. I poured it all into my hand, forcing through the agony as I felt my hand start to smolder, to glow, to burn. The light from the front of the train lit the night, the scream of a hell-beast came from the engine as it spewed smoke into the black sky, shaking the whole world with its' unstoppable charge.

A three hundred ton dragon made of fire and steel and all of mankind's sorcery raced towards me.

I'm The Immortal Iron Fist.

Killing dragons is my specialty.

Absolute Comics: A Brave New World

P R E S E N T

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B E E T L E' S B L U E S P A R T T H R E E- E N D

C H I C A G O

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^{March 12th, 2017 - 08:28 PM | Ted Kord's Chicago Penthouse-Bedroom}

Ted's reaction, born of decades of surviving and thriving in dangerous situations, was to fight with the nearest weapons available. More specifically: to toss his blankets over the holographic Carapax's body to entangle it, throw a pillow as hard as he could into its face to knock it off-balance, then vault out of bed and slug the smarmy hardlight projection with everything he had when it stumbled. Carapax went down in one punch, but the projection was built to be durable. Oh sure, it still shattered in an iridescent burst, but even after using the goosefeathers like an improvised boxing glove, Ted was left rubbing sore knuckles. Still, Batman ought to get a load of that move! Ted Kord: Master Pillow-fighter.

He was smirking to himself and wondering if maybe he should just skip the nap and get up early when he heard the voice over his P.A. system

"Did you really think it would be that easy? Cut off one head..."

Three more projections of Carapax materialized between Ted and the door, while at the same time a metal panel slid over his balcony entrance. The three Cara-...Carapaxes? Carapaxii? Carapeople? In any case, all three spoke in unison.

"It's not just your holographic assistants I control. I'm in your system now. It may have taken time to free me, but no longer am I confined to the scrap and circuits of my indestructible battle armor. Once I was able to go wireless it was child's play for my genius mind to bypass your antiviral measures. Now All of your little Kordtech inventions are mine, your security systems, your secrets, your-HEY!"

Ted took advantage of his old enemy's monologuing to snatch a box from under his bed, then use it to vault off of, somersault past him to the door. He took off at a sprint into his hallway. A little turret popped out from a wall on his right and started firing compressed air blasts at Ted, but he'd designed the system himself, so it was easy enough to duck and roll through its' blind spots until he reached the elevator. He took the top off of the box he still had tucked under one arm, smiling to himself. Inside was a multitool and a very special set of gloves he'd been repairing for a few days.

He slipped the gloves on and pried open the service panel for the elevator, then went to work manually rigging the door to open. Faced with the empty elevator shaft, Ted looked down into its’ depths and felt his stomach drop into his feet. There was only one way to tell if the repairs on the gloves worked, so before he could hesitate any more, Ted dropped the multi-tool and jumped into open space with hands outstretched. Thankfully, life rewarded Ted with a quiet buzz as his hands stuck to the wall of the elevator shaft. He let out a breath he didn’t notice he’d been holding as he carefully unstuck one hand and lowered it to stick again, slowly climbing down.

As he did he decided to take stock of the situation: He was trapped in his own incredibly high-tech home-slash-personal laboratory by a disembodied ex-HYDRA scientist with a digital brain who had been trying to kill him since he was thirteen-years-old and playing boy genius sidekick to Dan Garrett. No big deal, just get past a small army of holographic clones and repurposed security measures, down to the subbasement underneath his underground lab, then shut off power to the whole building. All that, armed with nothing but these gloves, his wits, and his pajamas.

It was no big deal, right?

Before he could freak out any further, Carapax’s electronic voice echoed down to him.

“It was so rude of you to leave before I could finish talking. Garret was a fool and a thug, but at least he had a little respect for tradition.”

Ted didn’t respond, having reached the particular door he was looking for, instead he just leaped back over to the other side and clung there. Then, he balanced himself on the lip of the doorway and started forcing the doors apart, even though Carapax had locked them. Carapax had been quiet for a while by this point, and Ted was starting to wonder why when the air filled with humming, soft at first but growing louder…

…The elevator, rushing up to squash him against the ceiling like a…well, like a bug.

Ted heaved on the doors until he could feel every muscle straining, watching the light from the opening widen bit by bit as speeding metal doom hurtled towards him from below. Finally he got the opening just wide enough to tumble through –it was time to lay off the junk food for sure-and sprawled gasping on the floor as the elevator blasted by behind him and slammed into the roof of the shaft with an explosively loud, sickeningly close crash.

“Is…-is that…all ya got, chrome-dome? Get…get it…’cause you’re bald…and also made of metal now…bwah…ha..ha.”

Despite his exhaustion, Ted was feeling more optimistic. This floor contained his personal gym, entertainment center/hangout room and of course his kitchen. Most importantly, the kitchen had an entrance that ran up and down to his laboratory that was of vital importance. Not only because it was great for snacks in between long hours of science-work, but also because it was hidden and didn’t appear in any of the building’s schematics or security protocols.

Ted caught his breath and got up off of the floor, creeping across the little entryway and straight for the kitchen.

He came face to face with the same three Carapax simulations waiting for him. Or maybe three different ones, it was hard to tell. The important thing was that the first one lunged for him with a very big knife. Ted pivoted to the clone’s outside and grabbed the hologram’s wrist as he spun, using his momentum to push it off balance and twisting the knife back on him with a trip to throw it down hard enough to break it.

A second knife-wielding Carapax rushed him from the side, but Ted jumped up and stuck his hands to the ceiling, then dropped down onto its head to shatter it into rainbow light particles. The third one was circling, biding its’ time. Ted circled with him, moving across the kitchen, trying to find an opportunity. He paused and faced the last Carapax, Ted now behind the table while the hacked projection stared at him from in front of the fridge.

Something seemed off to Ted, something other than the ice cream in the freezer on top.

Why wasn’t Carapax just mobbing him with projections? Could his control over Ted’s systems not be as complete as he claimed? Inspiration struck!

“Kitchen: Open Freezer!”

“Wha-“ The small freezer door flung open and clocked the Carapax hard in the back of the head. As it stumbled, Ted grabbed a frying pan, vaulted over the kitchen table and brought it down hard into the projection’s face, satisfied as it dissipated.

“Beetle’s off the menu, Carapax! Take some time to chill, see if anything else pans out!”

Luckily, he was Ted Kord: Master Quip-Maker.

Carapax’s disembodied voice groaned audibly.

“If I have one solace in this world, Theodore, it will be that once you are dead I will never again have to deal with your INSUFFERABLE humor!”

“Yeah yeah, so you’ve been saying for the past few decades, but guess who’s still funny and who’s stuck in a moving metal can?”

Blue Beetle opened up what looked like a rotating cabinet for herbs and spices, turned it a bit, and then removed a little jar of thyme. The cabinet’s interior slid away to the side to reveal a staircase down to his lab, one he’d used many nights and early mornings.

Well, this time he would use it for some real good.

He opened the side-passage to his lab’s main area only to freeze in his tracks at the sight of the massive, twelve-foot-tall, gleaming red and gold killer robot standing right by the entry hatch to the power supply in his subbasement.

“Oh, did I neglect to mention, my ‘walking metal can’ as you call it is out of lockdown and fully operational. Minus of course the missile payload you oh-so-cleverly turned against me the last time.”

Ted let him talk, creeping over to the hatch just behind his robot body and staying in all the camera blind spots. Unfortunately, Ted had forgotten to oil the hatch and it made a wailing [color=slategray[i]shriiiiiiiiiiiek[/i][/color] as he opened it. Carapax whirled and Ted had to fling himself backward so that the incoming backhand didn’t crush him. Instead he was sent tumbling first through the air then painfully across the ground before crashing into an open storage room.

“Disappointing! The old Blue Beetle was never this pathetic, even if he was stupid enough to believe that a washed up archaeology professor with a good right hook and some magic tricks was a match for my genius! But then again what are you really, Theodore? You’re just an insignificant mind with a few bright ideas, a powerless pretender in blue pajamas!”

Ted’s head was spinning as Carapax stomped toward the darkened little room. He already felt like he was nothing but bruises and shredded muscles, but Ted couldn’t die here, couldn’t let Carapax win. If Dan were here, he’d just use the Scarab and beat him mano-a-mano. Dan had always been able to make things work for him. But that wouldn’t help, Ted didn’t have the Scarab and couldn’t bring himself to use it, with or without magic. Besides, his own gear was in a different part of the lab near the hangar for The Bug. The only thing he kept in this closet was experimental medical supplies: portable artificial life support systems, big cryogenic freezing pod, cybernetic limbs-

-and a strength-enhancing exo-skeleton for patients with atrophied muscle tissue!

There were no cameras or sensors inside the storage room, so Carapax had to bend down and visually confirm Ted’s presence inside. When he did, he got a double-punch to the faceplate with all the power Ted’s considerable strength and engineering prowess could put behind it. The huge robotic madman got knocked onto his back and skidded across the lab’s floor as Ted emerged grinning over him with a whirring, mechanized skeleton encasing his body and a grin on his face.

“Like it? It’s one of my bright ideas!”

Ted let Carapax get up, just smirking as the titanic terror charged him. As the ex-scientist took a swing at him Ted turned the attack into a shoulder throw that slammed his metal shell into the wall, cratering it. Carapax was nearly invincible, ridiculously powerful and surprisingly fast for his size. Then again, he never did know how to fight and after over a decade in storage he was bound to be running low on power. Ted pummeled the cybernetic man with a rain of blows, one after the other until the wall Carapax was up against gave way and they crashed back into the storage room.

Even then Ted didn’t let up, kicking him across the floor before advancing on Carapax, panting.

The Indestructible Man got up, moving ponderously in the small space but as unharmed as his name indicated.

“You cannot win Theodore! You can beat me back and throw me around all you like, but in the end I AM indestructible! After you tire or the batteries for that little gimmick run out I’m going to slaughter you, then everyone you’ve ever loved, then anyone you’ve ever known! Then I’ll find what’s left of HYDRA and-“

“Didn’t I tell you to chill?”

Ted pressed a button and the cryogenic pod closed up around Carapax, perfectly positioned by Ted’s last kick. A synthesized howl of rage came from the robot, echoing all around Ted, but the process had already begun. Carapax tried to bull-rush the door, but even as he smashed it down his lower half froze in place. He flailed and raged, but couldn’t remove himself from the pod.

Ted quickly unstrapped from the now-battered exoskeleton, its frame barely holding up considering it was unarmored. He finished opening the hatch, dropped down and reset the system in a matter of minutes, plunging things into darkness. Ted climbed out, satisfied at a job well done.

Then he heard the sound of Carapax’s laughter echoing through the lab again.


Ted rushed over to Carapax, a frown of confusion on his face. “What gives, Incoherent Man? I cut you out of my systems and soon enough I bet you’ll run out of power. I won!”

Carapax kept laughing “No, you’ve lost. You were too late! It was never just about killing you. it was about destroying you utterly. You see before you cut me off, I had time to do one last thing: Hack into a satellite made by Kord Omniversal and have it alter trajectories to plow right into downtown Chicago. Think of all that death and destruction, and you’ll be to blame!”

Carapax suddenly fired the rocket thrusters attached to his back, melting the ice encasing him with the heat. But Ted didn’t have time to fight him again, he was already running to the Bug. He leaped inside with Carapax storming after him, unable to get the hatched closed before the man in the machine got inside. It didn’t matter, Ted stayed at the controls of the airship as it took off, the force of going from zero to hypersonic down the exit tunnel as fast as possible tossing the Invincible Man to the back of the ship in a crash that destroyed most of Ted’s on-board lab equipment.

Ted worked furiously, locating the satellite and plotting out maneuvers into the Bug’s A.I. to intercept it, roaring out of the tunnels and up into the atmosphere higher and higher in a desperate race to catch a man-made meteorite. The airship had its’ magnetic field, its’ shields and its grasper claws all extended at full power as it soared to near-space flight, meeting the burning, falling satellite head-on. ..and stopping it cold.

Ted slumped forward in his chair as the G-forces stopped crushing him back into the seat and the bug started to gently descend. Satellite stopped. Day saved. But he still had Carapax to deal with. Now that there was nothing pressing him into the back compartment he stomped into the cockpit growling with rage. Ted felt done in, helpless. Carapax was just out of his weight class as a hero.

Out of his weight class...

Ted's mind started racing and he punched in commands as fast as he could. As Carapax wrapped a huge, cold hand around the top of his head and lifted him up to crush him, Ted lashed out with a kick that flipped a lever on the Bug's controls. The Bug responded by executing a neat little parabolic arc.

Ted grinned as the inevitable happened: At just the right point during the maneuver, gravity ceased to have any effect. Himself, Carapax, all of his shattered equipment, everything floated up elegantly into mid-air inside the ship.

In those few almost beautiful moments of freefall, free of the planet's pull, Ted Kord threw a twelve-foot-tall monster out of a window so hard that it saw the curvature of the Earth.

Ted had to engage his sticky-gloves against the back of his chair to keep from being sucked out from decompression forces, but in the end, he won.

Too bad the Justice League hadn't seen it.

Ted Kord: Master Crime-Fighter.

---

It didn't take Ted too long to find Carapax. He just had to look for the smoldering robot-sized crater in the countryside. He descended from the Bug on a rappelling line and gave Carapax his most annoying grin despite how destroyed he felt physically.

"So! How was the trip?"

Error! Power failing! Emergency Shutdown Required!

"Aww, well that's too bad."

Carapax's voice came out weak and tinny "You...you...this isn't over...I didn't escape by myself. They released me and now they know...about where you hid it...about the Scarab. Haha...ha..ha."

"Shut up, Conrad. You talk too much."

The Invincible Man powered down with a low whine and Ted called in the Bug to pick him up. He'd have to devise a better security system for him. But even with his enemy beaten, the battle won and not a single life lost there was a problem.

Someone was after the Scarab.

Absolute Comics: A Brave New World

---

September 23rd(?), 1940

Somewhere in France(?)

...I have no godsdamn clue where I am

No matter how many times it's happened over the years, I've never gotten used to getting knocked unconscious. I still felt the same weird, ethereal floating feeling. It was like I was falling in reverse as the world cleared. My memories were fuzzy and this time I couldn't see worth shit, but K'un-L'un teaches a man other ways to know the world. The scent and feel of rough burlap against my face probably meant there was a thick sack over it. Good, I wasn't blind from a concussion, then. My tongue felt like a wooden board in my mouth, and I had the kind of ringing headache that'd make me want to kill a man. Probably I'd been drugged while I was out, to keep me that way while enemies brought me...wherever this was.

A quick assessment revealed that I'd been tied to a chair, legs to its legs and arms to its' arms, real thorough-like. I focused beyond the pain in my head, the cotton-stuffed sensation from the drugs and the stink of the bag. I could smell the dampness of the air, dust and mildew. Cooler temperatures against my skin than a summer night in most parts of France, too. Probably a basement somewhere. Great, drugged up, strapped to a chair in a basement with a sack over my head. That only ever meant one thing. Well, one of two in some of the more enjoyably seedy parts of France, but knowing my luck...

Right on cue, there was the sound of a door scraping open, then the unmistakable clatter-thump of boots on a staircase. Jackboots, specifically. I'd heard enough of 'em squelching through mud and charging over fields to get the sound burned into my brain. Well, some things never changed. There were three sets of boots. The first one was lighter than the others, steps more precise and with a sharper sound, the metal parts less worn. The other two were heavy, rushing down the stairs and clomping after the first, irons all-worn out enough that they barely registered.

The set of footsteps I decided to label 'Thug One' walked over and took up a position behind me. 'Thug Two' and the one I'd already started thinking of as 'New Boots' stopped in front of me. New Boots spoke up then, all crisp, lightly-accented French, well-educated too. I decided I'd kill him first.

"You are a mystery I would very much like to solve. Earlier this evening you were found alone, attempting to sabotage the train meant to deliver our K12 artillery to the coast. A single, masked man. But they say you killed twenty French soldiers with pistols that shot fire, then ten more with your bare hands, before you were subdued. I'm disinclined to believe such exaggerations. The guns found on you were ordinary, the reports so much nonsense to hide incompetence and embarrassment. Yet, there are still some very intriguing things about you."

I worked my half-dead tongue around in my mouth for a minute before I could speak "Look, I can see what you're getting at here. Sorry to disappoint you, but I ain't really the man-loving type. I mean, it's gotta be tough for you, I hear the Fuhrer doesn't appro-" The slight scuff of Thug Two's boots as he shifted weight was just enough warning for me to tense my core for the gut punch. The chair rocked back with the force as I felt it hit like a howitzer, but Thug two caught the back before I could topple. Smart. I let out a wheezing laugh, not as short of breath as I shoulda been.

"Your boyfriend doesn't know how to hit, kid. What, am I supposed to confess out of embarrassment?"

They chose to ignore the taunt, New Boots kept going like the little exchange never happened. "You wear a mask, but when it was removed after we captured you, not a single man knew your face. Then there's this strange symbol on your chest," He prodded the Mark of Shou-Lao, top probably barely visible above the ropes. "Just what are you? A spy for the British? Some foreign sympathizer of the so-called 'Free French'? Or just a madman with a death wish?"

I wished he could see my smirk through the bag, but I settled for tone of voice. "I'm called Iron Fist. I'm an Immortal." To his credit, Thug One chuckled, like a gorilla with the hiccups. I decided I'd kill him last. The answer earned me another punch from Thug One, this time to the side of the head. I rolled with the strike as best I could once I heard it coming, but the starry explosion still rattled my teeth and I tasted the hot, coppery tang of blood from my cheek mashing into them.

New Boots started tapping his namesake against the floor, let me know I was getting to him. "You think this is a joke? I'm being gentle with you now. But try my patience and I can show you more hells in this world than you've ever imagined. Now, who are you working for?"

As a test I just spat some blood out against the bag for an answer. I felt Thug One grab the chair, then Thug Two made my torso his punching bag for a minute or two. After a childhood spent under learning Lei-Kung the Thunderer, even his hardest punches felt like love taps. I almost felt bad for his knuckles. Almost.

"Enough! What are your plans?!"

I gave it some thought, then decided to be honest.

"Well, the way I figure it, I'm gonna kill you, then beat the scheiß out of your scheißtypen friends, then get out of this chair and kill them. Then I'm gonna-"

I never did get to finish, I felt a gloved backhand crack across my face. This one was hard enough to knock a tooth loose, which was just perfect. Thug Two was allowed to pummel me for a long time after that, long enough that I started feeling the rhythm to his swings between blows to the chest and head. After a while I even started feeling the pain from them. It felt like hell and I had to work not to give them the satisfaction of screaming, but it also helped burn through the last of the fuzziness from the drug.

Once Thug Two was done, I felt New Boots breathing close to my face, his voice all quiet and angry like as one hand gripped my chin. "You will break eventually, and when you do I'm going to-"

I tuned him out, focusing instead on reaching out with my mind to become one with that golden sea of fire within myself. I felt the power that was mine alone flow from the Heart of the Dragon into my body, from there to the blood in my mouth...

...From there to the loose tooth tucked against my lips.

I spat enamel and blood and burning dragon-fire into his face, he barely had time to scream as he died.

I rocked my chair back to avoid another panicked swing from Thug Two instinctively and heard it whizz by, snapping my head back as I fell to headbutt Thug One in the solar-plexus when he moved to catch me on reflex. As the winded brute slumped over me I let chi-powered strength flow into my limbs and broke the ropes holding my arms, reaching up to grab him and rolling forward again to throw him into where I judged Thug Two to be.

I was rewarded with a satisfying crash and wild shouting and flailing, before I used the momentary distraction to slip the bag off my head and snap the ropes holding my legs.

I still had a chair awkwardly tied to my back, but as I blinked my eyes against the light at least I could see that I was in an almost empty cellar with New Boots dead at my feet and Thugs One and Two still tangled with each other on the floor, but slowly getting up.

I let them stand, gave them that much. After all, they deserved a chance.

Thug Two rushed me first, but I whirled around so that the back legs of the chair still strapped to me slapped into his knees and sent him sprawling. Then I jumped backwards and let the remainder of the chair shatter against him. Thug One tried to rush me while I was still prone from body slamming his partner. I rolled back and pressed up into a sort of back-handspring kick that staggered him, the sort of flashy acrobatic fighting they teach in K'un-L'un. Then I dropped down and made sure Thug Two stayed down for good with a bunch of curb-stomps to the throat and head that they definitely don't teach there.

When I turned back around Thug One had already drawn a knife in his right hand. Poor idiot. He came at me with a lunging stab, but it was slow enough that I could pass the blade out to the side and grab his wrist. I struck him with my free hand, chop to the throat, then with two knuckles extended to the eye in what Lei-Kung called the Golden Star Gouge. At almost the same time I twisted my body around his, grasping his knife hand and plunging his own blade into his abdomen, pushing in again until blood and viscera had to bubble up around the hilt. Then I let him slump and die on his own.

Three more corpses on the pile, but there was no time to think about it.

I had a train to catch.

Absolute Comics: A Brave New World

P R E S E N T

---

B E E T L E' S B L U E S P A R T T W O

C H I C A G O

---

^{March 11th, 2017 - 03:28 PM | Museum of Science and Industry- Auditorium}

One of the biggest perks of owning a hypersonic, bug-shaped airship had to be the ability to get across the country in no-time flat. Life as a billionaire, genius, and inventor-vigilante definitely had its upsides and for Ted one of the biggest was the chance to give speeches like these, to minds ready to be inspired towards a future of great inventions. That was without even counting the potential millions that could watch it as it was streamed to the internet too. Some might have been made nervous by the attention, but for Ted, about to get on stage in a teal blue suit and a bright green tie, it was just energy to feed on.

The announcement finished up, and there was an instant hush as somewhere around seven-hundred people caught sight of the purposefully garish colors of his outfit. He raised his hands for their further attention, then gave a flourish and a dramatic bow that set some less decorous viewers chuckling and put a few smiles on what was otherwise a sea of raptly attentive faces..

"Well, I know we're not here just to admire my raw charisma and dashing good looks, so let's get right to it. Hello everyone, and welcome to my 'TED' Talk." Another series of scattered laughs from the crowd. "As many of you know, since I took over Kord Omniversal at eighteen, I've always oriented the company towards a single slogan 'Making a brighter future, today'. Too often, it seems we envision the future as a dark place, bleak and degraded if not an outright wasteland, especially in our pop culture. Too often, it seems that technology in one form or another is to blame for this dark future."

He paused for a moment as images flickered across the screen from a variety of dystopian and post-apocalyptic films and properties, then continued.

"But when I went to work at Kord Omniversal, technically at the tender age of nine, it was a different version of the future that inspired me to invent. A future dreamed up by men like Isaac Asimov, the Strugatsky Brothers, and at times my dear old dad. A world where things weren't always perfect, but always better! Where technology was a benevolent tool, one that helps us better ourselves and better understand our universe. Yes, I have some talent, but it's that bright vision for the future that I really credit for my success."

Right on schedule, the big screen flashed the Kord Omniversal logo and brought up a series of images of all sorts of Kord inventions.

"In the many years since, Kord Omniversal has created endless new technologies, from drones built to explore the vastness of space and the depths of our oceans, to life-saving and life-extending medical inventions. We've broadened out even further to artificial intelligence development, electronic entertainment, any problem that could use some of the best scientific and creative minds on the planet. Because it's not about money or the recognition, it's about bringing a better future one step closer every day and-"

"-LIAR!"

Ted froze at the sound of the familiar bellow that rang like the world's most enraged set of wind chimes. A figure that stood like a gleaming, six foot five metallic statue had just come through the doors to the auditorium, flanked by two others. To the right of him was a gas-mask wearing man in a suit of golden metal plating and silvery flameproof fabric, and to the left another in a robotic exosuit of green and purple with an odd, curved apparatus attached to one arm. Ted knew all of them well, not only because he'd put them all in specially designed prison cells, but also because they were all former employees of Kord Omniversal. He wordlessly rolled up his sleeve and started pressing buttons on the arm of the Blue Beetle suit underneath as the metal man went on.

"This is the result of your 'better future' Mr. Kord! Your company made disfigured us, discarded us, made us freaks and outcasts! So now we're going to show the world how your dream ends, by killing you live in front of the world! But we're generous guys, so everyone else can get out! Today, we're just here for Ted Kord!"

A lot of screaming and panic ensued, but to the credit of both the crowd and surprisingly the supervillains, nobody was trampled and they were actually allowed to run out of the hall. Which just left Ted and three very angry, murderous bad guys.

"Y'know guys, I don't exactly feel like dying today. Could we maybe reschedule?" No such luck, the League of Evil Ex-Employees continued to advance on him. That is, until the wireless commands he'd issued to the Hall's lighting via his wrist communicator plunged the hall into darkness. Long years of experience gave Ted the timing he needed to roll aside as an unseen projectile whirred through the empty air where his head had been. He came to his feet and stripped off his over-clothes in swift, well-practiced motions to reveal the skintight Blue Beetle suit underneath and got his cowl on and goggles in place moments later, ignoring his enemies' cries of frustration and alarm. The now suited-up Blue Beetle used his B.B. gun to grapple up to the balcony level of the Auditorium while dropping a little disk at his feet. Then, overlooking the stage, he let out his instantly recognizable guffaw, the noise echoing around the room:

"BWAH-HAHAHAHA!~"

The villains might have interrupted, but the show must go on!

With another command sequence to the little screen on his wrist, a hard-light HoloTed popped up from the little disk and began cowering off to the side, just in time for the lights of the auditorium to flash back on in a perfect shade of Beetle Blue. The metal man's face reflected the light with a look of shock and despair, while the other two masked figures searched the room wildly, all of them in dismay at the sudden illumination and the all-too-recognizable laugh.

"NonononoNO! He can't be here! Not today! Not now! Anyone but him!"

The HoloTed used the distraction to run out a side exit, screaming like a little girl. It was programmed to be a completely accurate simulation of himself, after all. Still running on the same hacked-in program, a big Blue Beetle logo appeared on the auditorium's main projector screen, right as Blue Beetle himself dropped down to center stage with a big grin.

"Well it sure ain't Wonder Woman, Promethium Man!"

Promethium Man started to glow red hot, his rage rising as fast as his temperature as he stormed the stage with a roar. The Big Blue Bug waited until nearly the last minute, then sailed into the air so that the big lug crashed into the wall behind him in a cloud of smoke and plaster. Ted did a few midair flips for good measure before coming down, then stuck the landing, with a smirk on his face.

"Be honest with me fellas! Is the reason I don't get enough respect in the capes-and-tights community because my villains are so lame?"

The silver-and-gold suited villain lit his fists on fire with a whoosh! of igniting accelerant, just as his purple-and-green armored counterpart took to the air and loaded some sort of sphere into the long, curved cup on his arm.

"I mean-" The gas-masked man shot a gout of flame at Blue Beetle and a blue pistol was suddenly in Ted's hand as a blast of wind snuffed the fire out and slammed him into the first row of seats "-what kind of name is 'Firefist' anyways? Was it supposed to be a heavy metal album for nine-year-olds before you turned evil?"

A crash and a tortured shriek of hot metal announced that the Promethium Man was back on his feet, only for Ted to turn and blind him with a painfully bright beam of light from the same gun. " The name 'Promethium Man' has the opposite problem, it's sooo boring." Promethium Man fought through the blindness and pain to charge in the direction of Blue Beetle's voice at the same time as his flying foe flung a beeping metal sphere at Ted. Without pausing, Ted whirled into a perfect bicycle kick that knocked the explosive into the metallic murderer's face and hurled him back into the very same dent in the wall he'd just exited.

Ted landed in a crouch to face the last of his enemies still standing, or in this case flying, and gave him a mock salute "See, you've got it right, Overthrow is a decent name." Overthrow immediately started flinging more miniature explosives from the air, though Blue Beetle nimbly evaded each through a series of aerial cartwheels then leaped almost impossibly high in the air. His fist cracked across Otherthrow's faceplate in a mid-air collision before he could launch another bomb, then the two of them crashed into the balcony seats in a tangle.

Blue Beetle got to his feet first. Hands blurring, he gripped Overthrow's wrist and twisted his arm into a lock that made him writhe and scream in pain before snapping the launching apparatus around his arm. Overthrow managed to scythe out with his feet and knock the Azure Avenger to the ground, but before the power-suited killer could bring a boot down on his neck Ted grabbed his leg and twisted so they were both on the ground. The two rolled apart and stood up across from each other. They faced one another like that for a while, both panting, each seemingly wary and sizing up their opponent.

"You always were...a tricky one, Arnold. But there's one thing...you don't understand."

Overthrow scoffed, voice distorted to a crackling basso by his helmet "What? That a corrupt dog of...the military-industrial complex like you has...righteousness on his side?"

"Heh, Nope! When I grabbed your leg earlier, I broke your jet-boots!"

"WHA-" Overthrow slammed into the ceiling in a burst of rocket fire, then fell back down onto the balcony, flopping like a rag-doll.

Ted chuckled in between trying to catch his breath "Overthrow might be...a decent name...but picking jai alai as your theme makes you...my stupidest rogue."

Blue Beetle shot his grappling hook up into the roof and descended back down to the main floor, still panting, thankful that his outfit prevented sweat from getting in his eyes and with one hand over his hammering heart. Firefist tried to take another shot at him from behind, but Ted just drew a second trick pistol with his left hand and hit the pyromaniac with a sonic pulse that made him start violently vomiting into his gas mask, not bothering to turn around.

"Whoo...not bad for a man with a heart condition, huh?"

The Chicago Police Department moved in after that, along with a horde of reporters.

Not quite the sort of publicity Ted was hoping for today.

---

^{March 12th, 2017 - 8:28 AM | Ted Kord's Chicago Penthouse-Bedroom}

Ted got out of bed aching after yesterday's rigors of crime-fighting, press coverage and inventing. He'd gotten the Bug running at 90% solar power, He'd be running some new drone designs for space exploration by STARK and Waynetech R&D to see if either of them wanted to bite on collaborations and the heads of both companies along with a few others should be waking up to party invitations by now. No sense having a birthday week if you didn't celebrate, after all.

Still, he couldn't help feeling troubled by the accusations of the supervillains from yesterday. They were right, at least about the fact that he had failed each of them in the past.

Curt Calhoun was a foreman at one of his factories before he became the Promethium Man in an industrial accident that bonded one of the world's strongest and most radioactive materials to his body. True, Ted had been working on a cure for the man for years, but mutations to Curt's DNA and bonding to the metal on a cellular level meant that was going nowhere fast. Ted couldn't imagine how he must suffer, trapped in a cold Promethium body, unable to feel anything.

Firefist was Doctor Lyle Barnes, High-Energy Materials Researcher for K.O.R.D. . At least he was until a malfunctioning experiment disfigured him. He'd blamed the firefighters for not responding quickly enough at first, then blamed Ted once that failed to ease his pain.

Overthrow was Ted's bodyguard, but...well no, Arnold Becker had always been a crazy, paranoid conspiracy theorist. But Ted was at least responsible for the other two. Maybe he could do something more for them now that they weren't a danger to anyone. It was a new problem for this new day.

"HoloTed, gimme the schedule for this beautiful morning, then set my alarm for a quick power nap!"

A voice and a form materialized by Ted's bed, but it wasn't his own grinning mug that faced him.

"Oh little Theodore, still a foolish boy dreaming of saving the world."

The shimmering, chrome-dome'd visage with its precise, clipped Germanic accent belonged to a man Ted believed to be dead for over a decade.

His greatest enemy.

Conrad Carapax.

"It's time to wake up, Ted."

Absolute Comics: A Brave New World

P R E S E N T

---

B E E T L E' S B L U E S A N D A F L A S H O F Y E L L O W

H A P P Y H A R B O R

---

^{March 11th, 2017 - 01:15 PM | Mount Justice - Headquarters of the Justice League}

Ah, Mount Justice! From here, the Justice League watched over the world with eyes ever alert to the presence of evil! Yes, there was no job more noble than that of serving as an eternally vigilant guardian, ready to alert the world’s heroes to spring into action on a moment’s notice! Truly, only the most dedicated and worthy were entrusted with…Monitor Duty!

Well, at least that was how they’d pitched it to Ted the first time around. As the Blue Beetle had found out since, it mostly consisted of staring at a bunch of screens while trying not to fall asleep in his chair or binge eat too many donuts, like the world’s most glitzy and glamorous security guard. Oh sure, sometimes he gave dispatches and watched other heroes whizz away to stop a villainous scheme or a natural disaster but when was the last time it’d been him doing derring-do and rescuing orphaned kittens from flaming trees or the like? Occasionally he took over Den Mother duties for the Titans or gave people a ride in the Bug, but as rewarding as mentoring the next generation of heroes could be at times, ‘babysitter’ and ‘chauffeur’ weren’t exactly the titles he’d had in mind when he put on the big blue bug-suit.

“Yeah, Ted, join the Justice League! It’ll be great! Travel the world, see new places, meet interesting, exotic supervillains and foil them! Just what happened to me, huh? I used to be Blue Beetle, dashingly handsome scourge of Chicago’s criminal underworld! Mad scientists with fake PhDs and crazy psychos in colorful headgear used to line up around the block to take a shot at me! Now I’m just,” he spread his arms wide and kicked his swivel chair into a spin “Ted Kord, world’s smartest hall monitor.”

Well, Ted supposed it wasn’t all bad. Being a mentor for the Titans had a lot of rewarding moments when it wasn’t full of teenage drama or behind-his-back, thought-you-didn’t-know mockery. But man, just let him get ONE crack at an A-grade, top-of-the-line, world-threatening bad guy and he’d show them all that the Azure Avenger still had what it took to rock these tights!

Well...they weren’t exactly tights and they were getting a little tight around the middle, but that didn’t matter!

“Yeah, I’ll show ‘em! I’ll show ‘em all! BWAH-HAHAHAHA!~”

Recognised: Flash.

Barry had to give it to Batman, Beetle, Beast or whoever designed the computer system for Mount Justice. Within a split second of standing outside the entrance it had scanned him and opened the door. He had watched Wally test the reaction time of both the system and the door, resulting in a bloody nose, which was why Barry stopped to actually allow the computer to scan him. The computer was exactly what he was here for, the League kept records on everything super powered. He wasn’t exactly sure where Batman got his hands on all the information, though Barry wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know either.

As he worked his way through the halls of the Justice Leagues secret headquarters, he heard the maniacal laughter coming over the P.A. system. He half expected to turn up to the monitor terminal to find one of the Titans. While they had their own headquarters it wouldn’t be the first time one had decided to mess with members of the League, as he rushed into the room the displaced air rushed forward blowing any loose papers from their resting place.

He had to repress a sigh, it wasn’t any of the Titans that sat at the monitor terminal. Instead it was none other than Blue Beetle. The worst thing was, the maniacal laughter over the P.A made more sense now than it would have if it had been one of the Titans.

Beetle got a lot of flak, but what set him apart to Barry was how truly genuine and carefree he was. Which was more refreshing than facing the Scowl of the Caped Crusader. Out of habit, more than necessity, Barry cleared his throat after he had slowed.

“Uh, Ted? You left the mic on…”

Ted stopped mid-cackle and tried his best not to let his embarrassment show too blatantly.

“Oh uhh, clearly I was just simulating a possible super-villain attack, y’know, with the long, frustrated monologue about society’s lack of appreciation, the maniacal laughter and all! Congratulations for-” He paused and let out a sigh “I mean, I don’t believe me either. Just don’t tell Batman. You know how he gets.”

Ah, Batman. If there was anything more demeaning than always being second best to a man with no flaws, it was always being second best to a man with no flaws that you actually liked. Yeah, the Caped Crusader somehow managed to be everything Ted wasn’t: professional, stoic, feared by his enemies and respected by his colleagues and he never once let Ted forget it. Well, he never really said anything about it either, but then again with a guy like Batman all you really needed was a look.
“So, apart from a laugh at my expense, is there anything I can do for the Fastest Man Alive today? Maybe whip up a bicycle capable of withstanding the Speed Force? I mean your feet must get tired at some point, right?”

Barry shrugged. “If Jay were still alive I’m sure he would have taken you up on that offer in his old age.” The concept of a bicycle that could withstand the speed of a speedster was an interesting one however, what would happen if it was then attached to a battery? Could he potentially store enough power to power a house, or something bigger? He shook his head, his mind was running away from him. “Also, I’m not laughing at you Blue. Think how I feel on monitor duty, time really drags on.”

He walked over to the computer, and plugged in a USB flash drive. “I confronted two Speedsters today, Trajectory and Speed Demon. It’s the first time they’ve ever teamed up, but they’re old news. What I am more interested in-” He opened a video of the security footage from the museum, showing the front entrance from across the street. Barry's back was visible but what he was focusing on was the visage of Zoom. “-This guy here.” Barry tapped his finger on the screen.

“He’s fast, from what I managed to glean from the crime scene, before Captain Signh kicked me out, and from what I saw I’d wager he’s nearly as fast as me. Calls himself ‘Professor Zoom’. Subtle name I know, but I don’t know anything on him. There has been sightings of a yellow speedster in Central City though, ruling out Wally I’m guessing that it’s this guy. Think you can get your miracle computer to help me out?” Traditionally he would have done this himself, it was part of his day job after all. He had spent years piecing together evidence and finding out where it could lead someone, in his Father’s case he had even worked against the evidence.

That all being said and done, Barry knew how Ted felt. When the League formed it was in a crisis, and they had reacted. Sure in Jay’s day he was one of the most powerful people on the planet, but compared to some of the others who were on the League his powers paled in comparison. After all, his only real ability was to move really fast (with some handy tricks). It had taken time for him to learn his place, what he was capable of. Everyone was invaluable to the team, he just had to help Ted realize that.

Ted was already back at the keys with a determined expression by the time Barry finished asking, absorbed in having a meaningful task to do. “Well, if it can beat me at Chess, Go, and Minesweeper then I figure it has what it takes to tell us a thing or two about Not-so-Mellow-Yellow there.” He couldn’t really take credit for the computer, since it was mostly Batman’s creation, but he had performed a few useful tweaks to the system whenever he’d gotten too bored so having it complimented did help improve his mood a little bit. “We’ve got this one good look at him to work with, so it’s no big deal to cross-reference a rough outline of his body metrics and facial structure with Batman’s list of metahumans, not to mention parse through any rumor or story about this yellow speedster seen around Central City for keywords and phrases that might lead to anything good. Plus, y’know, bring up any news stories or articles involving freak accidents, rogue magic events, secret military experiments, high-end science projects or people getting electrocuted while plugging in their new treadmill, typical supervillain genesis events.”

As Beetle spoke the computer generated what looked like a wire-frame model out of the visage of Zoom before rapidly flickering through a series of computer-generated headshots of suspected individuals, briefly lining them up and discarding them one by one. It also started generating a list of names and a short summary of incidents connected to them that might hint at speed-based powers, as well as another for locations where the yellow speedster had been sighted. Occasionally a news article or a research paper popped up as well.

“Y’know Batman always likes to act like detective work is this big, difficult arcane art, but I think he just does it to seem more mysterious and intimidating. You don’t need pointy ears and a cape for this!” Blue Beetle stared hard at the image of Zoom’s face and the generated model, squinting. “Come to think of it, the guy does look kind of familiar. Not like I know too many speedsters though, I’m probably just imagining things.”

Ted was distracted from any further musing by an emerging pattern in his searches, pulling up a few scholarly articles and a number of opinion pieces.

“Hmm...have you ever heard of a Doctor Elias? ‘Cause from the looks of things he has a big, science-y man-crush on you! Submitted a few papers on the implications of the existence of Speedsters for the laws of physics, a whole bunch of op-eds in scientific monthlies on what he thinks make your powers tick the way they do, kinda the PhD version of putting up a bunch of pictures of you on his school locker. If anyone’s using science to imitate you he might be a pretty good place to start. Facial recognition is still running, but I can set it to ping you when it’s finished. There’s a whole list of locations for sightings of Zoom too.”

Barry chuckled. “If you think this is easy, there’s always more cold cases in Central City if you’re ever feeling bored.” He stopped to look at the screen as it processed a variety of complex algorithms, Barry knew his stuff but that Bruce had designed these systems - with some input from Ted - was astounding. “That said, just give us a computer like that and you’d half the time it takes to close a case.”
At the mention of familiarity, Barry just shrugged it off. He’d seen the guy in person, and hadn’t really seen any sense of familiarity. It was probably just Ted’s mind playing tricks on him, or trying to lighten up the mood. The mention of Doctor Elias was something else, Flash - or in this case Barry Allen - had followed his work closely. He arrived in central city a couple of months ago, a real advocate for cleaner, renewable energy. Iris had done a piece on him just a couple of weeks ago, her and Barry going to one of his fundraisers in his facility and the work he was doing was impressive.

There had been something off about him however, he quite often shied away from the questions regarding the Flash. After all it wasn’t possible to inhabit either of the Gem Cities and not have an opinion on the Scarlet Speedsters. “I’ve heard of his work, he’s a brilliant scientist. Advocate for green energy and a better tomorrow, though he’s not really spoken about the Flash in any interview though. That’s curious.”

He leaned over Ted’s shoulder trying to get a better look at the computer screen. There were a lot of theories on why Speedsters generated lightning, or what looked like lightning, when they ran. On how when they caught someone from a falling building they managed to retain speed, and not break the person in half, not to mention why people weren’t torn to shreds when being carried by a Speedster. All in all it was interesting stuff, and without getting a hard detailed look at the research it looked as if Doctor Elias was stumbling onto the existance of the Speed Force. At least that was where the theories seemed to be pointing, as far as Barry knew Elias wasn’t actually a speedster… or was he?

This research, and the fact that Zoom appeared not long after Doctor Elias moved to Central City. From his work, not just as a hero but as a CSI he knew that some things were more than just a coincidence. He gave Ted a pat on the shoulder. “Thanks Blue-” his earpiece buzzed, an alarm he had set earlier to remind him of something incredibly important. “-I gotta run, but I’ll let you know how this works out. If you ever need my help in return, just give me a call.” With that he turned around, and kicked off down the corridor.

Ted deserved more time out of Mount Justice. Maybe he’d give him a call next time he needed a hand instead of Batman.

Blue Beetle left the computer to its facial recognition scans and went back to monitor duty with the kind of long-suffering sigh that’d make even the most melodramatic overactor embarrassed. This time though, Beetle was smiling. Barry had reminded him that if nothing else he was still valuable for his smarts. Maybe he really did still have what it took to save the day without the League’s help!

He went back to his usual round of keeping watch until a message came up behind his goggles reminding him of an appointment: Ted Kord was due to give a talk on his vision for the future at the Chicago Museum of Science and Industry, entry tickets and all other proceeds going to charity of course.

Well, if he couldn’t do any good today as Blue Beetle, at least he could do some as Ted Kord.