Create a Hero RPG GAME THREAD (MOD Approved)

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Adam crossed one leg over the other as he sat down in the lush chair opposite Chambers' desk. He smiled pleasantly and replied, "Well, our firm has really taken an interest in Lost Haven in light of the boom in all this superhuman activity over the last few months. We're looking into the property damage, death toll, and the number of injuries that have all been a result of these people running around." Dylan poured Adam a glass of the drink, which the Survivor graciously accepted. "We believe that opening a branch here would be very lucrative, but right now we're just looking into what other professionals, already in the area, have to say on the matter. We've seen the news and read the available police reports from what the Survivor, that giant yellow brute, and then that liquid metal monstrosity, have all been involved with; and if everything goes well here in Haven, we'll be considering expanding into the Blitzen district."

"So," an eyebrow arched in curiosity, "what's your take on this new "era of the superhuman," Mr. Chambers?" He downed the glass of liquor and crunched an ice cube in his mouth. "I'm sure your firm has also been trying to keep up with all of this craziness."

Dylan chuckles and gives a "politician's" smile. He says, "Oh Alex please call me Dylan. As to these stories I've heard these reports. I try not to pay them to much mind. I mean come on it just all seems so strange for people like that to be in our midst."

He takes a drink and says, "Oh don't get me wrong I am sure there is some truth to the reports in the media, but I am not sure what to make of all of them. You know some reporters hype things up for their own gain. Overall they do provide a spark that this city has sorely lacked for sometime."

Dylan stares out the window and says, "The Blitzen district does present many opportunities. I've be thinking about a time or two myself expanding into that area. But with everything else I have going on here the timing never seems right, and if your firm were to expand into that area out of professional courtesy I would stay out of the way. There's more than enough cases for our profession in this city. I don't want to be involved in every case in this city just the ones that make a difference for the most important cause in my life."

He smirks widely when he says, "in my life" and lets out a small snort.

Dylan looks back to Alex and says, "I do have a couple of contacts in the Blitzen district. Let me see here."

He walks over to his rolo-dex and writes down a couple of names.

Dylan hands the sheet to Alex and says, "Jack Walker & Don Edmonds. Walker runs a construction firm in that area and is a member at the Palamino Club which I belong to. Edmonds is the president of the 1st Eagle street Bank in that area and fellow club member as well. Mention me to them they'll pratically give you the keys to that area."

He then has a look of almost disdain on his face when he says, "Off the record I find Edmonds to be quite dull & Walker can be so obnoxious with his stupid jokes and small talk. However you will quickly learn Alex that in this city it's connections that make this town work. Not what, but who you know that gets you anywhere here. So many times you swallow your pride and lower yourself into networking with those you'd rather seen carted out of this town just to make your way in this city. "
 
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Ok people, the flashback you've all been waiting for!

............Well, not really, but close.:woot:


Chapter 12: First Time pt.3

After that unpleasent run-in with Joe, I found myself in the empty cafeteria, blowing off some steam...

"That a***ole! He gets me so mad!"

Then that black energy from this morning showered my hands again as I clenched my fists. This time, I knew I wasn't hallucinating. That negative light beam must have given me 'super' powers.

"Ok, what can I do with you?"

I concentrated on my hands to form the energy in my fists to form a sphere with it. Eventually it formed a ball, the size of a small basketball, floating an inch away from my hand. I clasped onto the sphere, and threw it. It collided with a brick pillar, and a pile of dust and debris fell to the floor.

I had the power to produce black light energy potent enough to damage rock...

"Sweet..."

**********************************

I needed some stuff if I was going to ba superhero, so I saw my best friend to help me get them. Nick Romano.

"So, let me get this straight. You have superpowers?"

"Yeah."

"And you want me to make you a costume and gadgets!?!"

"Yeah."

"Why!?!"

"Because your the son of the owner and top scientist of the second greatest industrial weapons companies in all of Connecticut! Second only to AmmoCorp!"

"Yeah well, being the heir to the RomanoTech Inc. fortune and inheriting my dad's genius intellect does make me more quallified. Ok, Jon. I'll do it. Do you know what you want it to look like?"

"Thanks, Nick. I have a design I drew in Study Hall here."

I pulled out a folded piece of paper with a costume design on it out of my back pocket. Nick took it out of my hand and looked at it.

"Where's the rest of it? There's no bottom half! There's just shin guards here! Where are the pants!?!"

"I hate tight pants! I'll provide my own."

He focused his attention back to the design.

"This design looks good. The hood is a nice touch. Any ideas on weapons or gadgets you want?"

"I need something that can make me fly, like jet-boots or something. Utility belt. I don't know about weapons..."

"I have the perfect thing to help you fly, or at least hover. How good are you at skating?"

"Decent, I guess."

"Good. Take a look at these."

He pulled out a small crate from under his desk and put it on the table and opened it. What appeared to be little pads were inside.

"What are they, Nick?"

"RomanoTech HoverSole pads. You stick two to the bottom of each sneaker, and you can skate on air. It's the closest thing I got to 'something that can let you fly'."

"Thanks, Nick. Now about weapons, I only need three, an extendable bo-staff, a yo-yo, and a boomerang."

He looked puzzled, but realized that this is me we're talking about.

"Ok. What do you want them made out of? Steel? Titanium? What?"

"I don't know. I need something that's absolutely, one-hundred percent indestructible."

We both pondered, giving each other passing glances, but then my mental process started to go to work.

What's the hardest substance in the world?

I remember the prism from the same exhibit that gave me my powers.

"Diamond!"

"Done. Costume, weapons, now one more thing. Do you have a name or symbol?

I took the piece of paper from Nick and started to draw that prism. I then tuned the paper upside down and drew a "B" on it.

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"Do that."

"What does the 'B' stand for."

I knew what it stood for. It stood for the same energy that flowed hrough my hair, hands and eyes.

"BlackLight."

"Cool. I'll get to work on this tomorrow. What do ya wanna do now?"

"Let's watch some music videos."

Nick then grabbed his remote and turned it on MTV, and then the new video from my favorite band came on.


I turned to Nick in awe of the awesomeness of the song and relativity of the lyrics to what I stand for.

"That's so my theme song!"
 


Mark took the stone, and looked at it. It had an inscription on it that Mark, had he said it outloud, would've deemed as one of the most awesome things he had ever seen. Nodding, upon taking it, Mark placed it in his pocket and looked back up at his new allie.

"Thanks. I... I don't really know what to say,", Mark responded, rubbing the back of his neck. "...Well, I guess, what can anyone say, having just fought a giant beast like that? I hope your quest is fufilled, Kensei. I won't keep you waiting to get back on it any longer."

Kensei gave a respectful bow, "It was an honor fighting alongside you. May the gods bless you and watch over you on your journey, Mark."

With that, Kensei turned and walked away, disappearing into the growing crowd and leaving the Sharkman of Tampa Bay to his own devices...
 
The Forsaken


"Allura, come in." The Forsaken spoke into the comm link he had attained while at the headquarters of the Coven.

"I'm here, I trust everything is going well in Lost Haven?"

"There has been a change of plans. I am sending you coordinates, I want you to mount the forces and go there."

"But why?"

"It is a small island in the Atlantic known as Nautican. There is an unusually large number of super humans on that island. I will use this as my base of operations for the time being, many of the beings there are young and will be swayed to our way of thinking relatively easily."

"I see, but those who don't"

"Kill them."
 
Dylan chuckles and gives a "politician's" smile. He says, "Oh Alex please call me Dylan. As to these stories I've heard these reports. I try not to pay them to much mind. I mean come on it just all seems so strange for people like that to be in our midst."

He takes a drink and says, "Oh don't get me wrong I am sure there is some truth to the reports in the media, but I am not sure what to make of all of them. You know some reporters hype things up for their own gain. Overall they do provide a spark that this city has sorely lacked for sometime."

Dylan stares out the window and says, "The Blitzen district does present many opportunities. I've be thinking about a time or two myself expanding into that area. But with everything else I have going on here the timing never seems right, and if your firm were to expand into that area out of professional courtesy I would stay out of the way. There's more than enough cases for our profession in this city. I don't want to be involved in every case in this city just the ones that make a difference for the most important cause in my life."

He smirks widely when he says, "in my life" and lets out a small snort.

Dylan looks back to Alex and says, "I do have a couple of contacts in the Blitzen district. Let me see here."

He walks over to his rolo-dex and writes down a couple of names.

Dylan hands the sheet to Alex and says, "Jack Walker & Don Edmonds. Walker runs a construction firm in that area and is a member at the Palamino Club which I belong to. Edmonds is the president of the 1st Eagle street Bank in that area and fellow club member as well. Mention me to them they'll pratically give you the keys to that area."

He then has a look of almost disdain on his face when he says, "Off the record I find Edmonds to be quite dull & Walker can be so obnoxious with his stupid jokes and small talk. However you will quickly learn Alex that in this city it's connections that make this town work. Not what, but who you know that gets you anywhere here. So many times you swallow your pride and lower yourself into networking with those you'd rather seen carted out of this town just to make your way in this city. "
Something was wrong. Even though the Survivor was here under the name of Adam Locke, Chambers was calling him Alex.

Goddammit. The sonuvab**ch knows about me.

Locke tilted his head and looked at Dylan's figure, practically staring right through him. Adam put his glass down onto a coaster and paused for a moment before looking back up at Chambers, his brow furrowed in obvious and cunning curiosity. He ignored Dylan's change in the topic of conversation. "I understand that there was a dangerous fugitive running around several weeks ago. According to a number of officers who opened fire on him, he seemed to heal himself instantly. I've heard rumors that he may actually be connected to the Survivor, based on the obvious similarities." Not even bothering to ask if Chambers had even looked into that particular story, Adam continued, "I suppose men like ourselves could easily thumb around and see if any peculiarities came up if someone like that were trying to craft a new identity for himself, eh?" Locke flashed a sly smirk at Chambers, but his eyes showed and also read the mutual understanding of both men as the wheels turned in their heads. "For the life of me, I can't remember; what was that chap's name again?"
 
Something was wrong. Even though the Survivor was here under the name of Adam Locke, Chambers was calling him Alex.

Goddammit. The sonuvab**ch knows about me.

Locke tilted his head and looked at Dylan's figure, practically staring right through him. Adam put his glass down onto a coaster and paused for a moment before looking back up at Chambers, his brow furrowed in obvious and cunning curiosity. He ignored Dylan's change in the topic of conversation. "I understand that there was a dangerous fugitive running around several weeks ago. According to a number of officers who opened fire on him, he seemed to heal himself instantly. I've heard rumors that he may actually be connected to the Survivor, based on the obvious similarities." Not even bothering to ask if Chambers had even looked into that particular story, Adam continued, "I suppose men like ourselves could easily thumb around and see if any peculiarities came up if someone like that were trying to craft a new identity for himself, eh?" Locke flashed a sly smirk at Chambers, but his eyes showed and also read the mutual understanding of both men as the wheels turned in their heads. "For the life of me, I can't remember; what was that chap's name again?"


Dylan studied Alex's look for a moment.

D***!!!!! I overplayed my hand. How in the h*** could I have been so stupid.

Dylan lets out a slight chuckle to regain control, and presses a button on his phone. He asks, "Brenda, do I have any further appointments today?"

She replies, "Yes you are scheduled to meet with Michael Edwards in about an hour, and that is about it."

Dylan says, "Express my regrets that we will have to reschedule our appontment. Tell him there will be no charge for this appointment. Once you take care of that take the rest of the day off my dear. This one could take a while."

She replies, "Yes Mr. Chambers" and he hangs up the phone.

He looks at Alex and says, "You know what I think about those reports I have already told you. However off the record....I think people such as this survivor character are a menace and need to be dealt with. They're dagerous and unpredictable not to mention they represent a threat...."

He fixes a hard look on Alex and says, "Especially to me."
 
EZEKIEL


A day since the conflict in Lost Haven, Ezekiel had moved his attentions farther a field. A recent victim gave up a most useful secret before his grisly demise, a sanctuary for those with gifts. Tens of them all in one place, scared of their powers, confused, easy prey.

Central Africa was home to this place of supposed safety, Ezekiel did not care about the specifics of which country, such borders meant nothing to him.

Watching this stranger descend from the sky, they knew he was one with powers, and welcomed him into their fold. Within minutes they would discover this was a most fatal error of epic proportions.

The screams and sounds of warping metal were audible over smashing glass as this place for peace was torn apart from the inside out. Those with abilities powerful enough to attempt to stand up to Ezekiel were felled in moments, each one accelerating his abilities to further quicken the carnage.

This level of destruction did not go unnoticed for long, the sight that greeted the first S.T.R.I.K.E official upon arrival was far beyond a nightmare scenario.


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"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" Is the last thing I heard my brother say before he is shot in the head. I hold his body in my arms. Pressing his lifeless body on mine. Hoping, praying, begging that he wasn't dead. But he was I was to late. And now I had lost the only family I had left.
I look up to see the bastard laughing at my pain. I rise up and run towards him, firing my gun at hit. He is startled. He begins shooting. Miss. Right past my head. I can feel the heat of the bullet.
I charge still shooting he takes aim and shoots again. Hitting my leg. I start to fall. I make one last leap and shot the monster in the chest several time. He begins to go down. He takes aim one last time and fires. It hits my face. I hit the ground and scream I'm not dead. Bt for what I did.... I might as well be.

I awake from my nightmare. Eyes wide open. Sweat pouring down my face like buckets. It takes a second for me to realize were I am. One second on the battle field. The next in this itchy little thing they call a bed here. I wipe the sweat from my face and push the long, shaggy hair out of my eyes. I feel my horizontal scar under my eye and remember the pain of the burning bullet and that day. I look around my cell. How long has it been? Two, three years. I'm not sure; but it never gets any better.

I hear a thud outside my cell door. The door to my cell falls down. I brace myself for whatever just did that. A foot steps over the threshold. Then the rest of the body. My eyes widen as I stare at a rugged looking man with a short beard. And battle scars.

"John!!" I shout as I look at the man who helped me through thick and thin during the time I served. "Do you relies how much **** you'll be in if they find out what you just did!!??"

"Don't worry man. Times have changed... We need all the help we can get in this war."

We step outside. "What do you mean.. Changed??"

"I mean the horde is getting more and more aggressive. And they're becoming harder to cover up from the world. Now theres mo time to wait. Put these on." He hand me a bag. When I open it I see the old battle armor I wore so proudly when I started out. "And hurry the crows will be here in a minute."

I put the suit on. It looks like modern medieval knight armor. It's heavy and kinda hard to move in. I can still remember training in this *****. As we step out of the cell John hands me a SMG. I take it off safety and become familiar with the gun. "What about the other prisoners?? We can't just leave them here."

"Already taken care of my friend. Now lets get going."

As
walk out I notice that his armor is different than mine. I ask him why. He tells me that it's a new version. Lighter. Makes the wearer fast and more monuverable. But it's not as strong as mine. But as we step out of the front doors I wish I had his. Because a South American rain forest is humid, hot and according to John.. thirty minutes away from the drop point. Damn this day has it's ups and downs.



As we walk through the forest we come upon a pit. John looks down into it.

"You think this is a sink hole??"

"No it's something much worse."

He throws down a light. Everything in the hole can be seen. Bodies and blood fill the pit. A stench of decay hits our noses.

"Oh god." John says. "What the hell went on in this prison??"
I close my eyes. When I open them I'm in the pit. People surround the top. Chanting, cheering. Blood is stained all on me. I grip a bloody knife in my hand. At my feet is a man with a hole in his chest...... Dead.

I open my eyes to see John staring at me. "You ok man??"

"Yeah... Let's get going."


We walk to the drop off point. Besides the noses of the jungle. It's completely silent. After another fifteen minutes we reach the drop off point. John radio's HQ.

"Alright we're here. Where the hell are you guy??"

"Give us five minutes John. We'll be there."

"Well you heard the man."

We sit and wait. Once again besides the noses of the jungle in silence. Thats when a bright light falls on us. I look up to see the supt up helicopter that is the Crow.

I hear a loud battle cry come from the right.

"HORDE!!!!" I yell as I tackle John to the ground.

A large explosion occurs in the air. I look up to see the Crow plummeting toward the ground! We get up an move out of the way.
Metal flies everywhere. Nearly missing me and John. We take cover behind a large chunk of scrap.

I hear on of the monsters scream. "HuMaNs!!!!!!!"
The battle was on.





 
"What do you mean? What's going on!?" I demanded.

"Major. After you crashed, and we found you, we brought you here, to this medical bay. However, you seemed to not need the medical bay. Your wounds, the gun shot holes, everything has healed. What's more, you seem to be stronger then before by breaking the bonds to the bed." The leading officer spoke. A colonel.

"So I heal fast. And I work out. Big deal. What's the problem?" I asked. I was getting angry.

"Major, perhaps you should watch this." He placed a DVD into a player and it began. News clips showing various people, and sometimes things that didn't look quite like people, doing amazing things. Impossible things.

"Major, since you've been asleep, the world has changed. People like this have been popping up all over the world."

"What's your point?" I growled a little defensively.

"Major. You're not human anymore."

"What do you mean, 'not human'? Then what the hell am I?" I yelled.

"By what we can tell, you seemed to be enhanced. You can't sling fire, however you may be able to bench press a truck. The President has issued an order that we find your limits and abilities, through a few tests."

"And what is the President going to do with that information?" I asked.

"That's classified sir."
 
Dylan studied Alex's look for a moment.

D***!!!!! I overplayed my hand. How in the h*** could I have been so stupid.

Dylan lets out a slight chuckle to regain control, and presses a button on his phone. He asks, "Brenda, do I have any further appointments today?"

She replies, "Yes you are scheduled to meet with Michael Edwards in about an hour, and that is about it."

Dylan says, "Express my regrets that we will have to reschedule our appontment. Tell him there will be no charge for this appointment. Once you take care of that take the rest of the day off my dear. This one could take a while."

She replies, "Yes Mr. Chambers" and he hangs up the phone.

He looks at Alex and says, "You know what I think about those reports I have already told you. However off the record....I think people such as this survivor character are a menace and need to be dealt with. They're dagerous and unpredictable not to mention they represent a threat...."

He fixes a hard look on Alex and says, "Especially to me."
As Adam looked at Dylan, an almost unnoticeable gleam of orange energy flashed across his eyes for a split second. "Perhaps, Mr. Chambers," in a swift motion, not wasting a single twitch of his muscles, Adam stood up from his seat and stepped forward to place his hands down on Dylan's desk, "everyone should feel humbled by something in their lives to keep them in line. For instance, the police." Locke bent forward slightly, looking straight into Chambers' eyes. "I recently had a chat with a very nice detective for the LHPD named Kat Anderson, actually. For some reason, she was very keen on recommending that I see you."

Light streams of smoke were coming from underneath Adam's palms that were facedown on the desk. If he were to lift his palms, darkened handprints would be seen burned into the expensive wood.

"Apparently, you have something to say to the Survivor." Adam's eyes now glowed with obvious energy, as his mouth turned to a sardonic smile. "So say it."
 
"What do you mean, 'not human'? Then what the hell am I?" I yelled.

"By what we can tell, you seemed to be enhanced. You can't sling fire, however you may be able to bench press a truck. The President has issued an order that we find your limits and abilities, through a few tests."

"And what is the President going to do with that information?" I asked.

"That's classified sir."

"Are you ready sir?" The Private nervously asked. You could he was afraid of two things. The first was that I would be hurt. The second was what I was going to do to him if I was.


"Yes. Just do it." I muttered as I stood ready. I thought this was a strange facility for testing, but apparently the President was going a bit unorthodox. I was in an automobile testing center, where they crashed cars into walls to test their saftey.

I was taking the place of the wall.

The Nissan came flying at me at an amazing speed. Part of me thought it was funny that we were using a Japanese company. Why couldn't they throw a Ford at me?

I braced my self and held me hands in front of me just as the car hit me. It pushed me back but I dug my fingers into the metal of the bumper and slammed my feet into the ground.

I grunted, gritted my teeth and threw the car over my shoulder.

"I'd say that was a success."
 
"What is this thing, Judy?"

"I got some readings off his power signature. They flucutae, change, adapt."

"So hes a mimic."

"Essentially yes. There's some other things going on, but we don't have enough information to figure out how hot he burns or if he can burn out."

"How's the team doing in Africa?"

"Not good."

"Casualities?"

"All of 'em."

"Can we GPS him yet?"

"That's a negative."

"Cripes." My phone rings. "Scout....oh hey Bets." Our date! I completely forogot! "You know how things go. Caught up at the office and such...." Of course she knew, she was the wife to my best friend, my superhero mentor. "I'll come by with pizza and a movie. Great...see you soon."

"When he reemerges I want all the information uploaded to my STRIKE comm."

"Did you just say Bets?"

"Drop it Judy."

"As in Michael's Bets?"

"Drop it Judy."

"Whoa...."
 
As Adam looked at Dylan, an almost unnoticeable gleam of orange energy flashed across his eyes for a split second. "Perhaps, Mr. Chambers," in a swift motion, not wasting a single twitch of his muscles, Adam stood up from his seat and stepped forward to place his hands down on Dylan's desk, "everyone should feel humbled by something in their lives to keep them in line. For instance, the police." Locke bent forward slightly, looking straight into Chambers' eyes. "I recently had a chat with a very nice detective for the LHPD named Kat Anderson, actually. For some reason, she was very keen on recommending that I see you."

Light streams of smoke were coming from underneath Adam's palms that were facedown on the desk. If he were to lift his palms, darkened handprints would be seen burned into the expensive wood.

"Apparently, you have something to say to the Survivor." Adam's eyes now glowed with obvious energy, as his mouth turned to a sardonic smile. "So say it."

Dylan sees the whisps of smoke rising from his desk. He looks back at The Survivor

Game on.

Dylan focuses his look upon him and with a sinister smile says, "Ahhh Detective Anderson. She was so easy to break I almost felt a twinge of guilt at the ease of which she cracked under my command. Almost."

He stands up, looks out the window and says, "I can have anything in this city. I own the media, the cops, a good portion of the judges, city Government & even a state senator. There are two things I don't have. One I want more than anything else but I can never have for it would eventually be hinderance to my control of this city. Secondly,...."

He turns to The Survivor and says, "A super-hero as it were until now. You self-rightous do-gooders are so blind to what is all around you. Any of you could take all this city has to offer and you choose to ignore it. I don't ignore it I choose to take what I deserve. In the end though you all are a threat to me. Well it's now time for one of those threats to become a memory."

Dylan pulls a revolver out from his desk and slides it to Adam.

He says, "You will now take that revovler and blow your head off."
 
May Gabriel Guide Thee

I woke up this morning, just like any other ordinary day...but...it wasn't ordinary. I don't know what it was exactly. But it seemed like I wasn't exactly me. Sure, I got up, brushed my teeth, washed my face, and I could clearly see that it was me in the mirrior, but...my eyes. My eyes were different.

I do not exactly have the most natural looking pair of eyes...but I woke up this Monday morning and they were a sort of indigo purplish white. I have to admit it really freaked me out. But nothing was as weird as when I stepped out for the day to do some errands before I was going to meet up with my girlfriend, Grace.

The average Monday? Okay, let's take a look at it for a quick moment. The average Monday, is a boring Monday. Why? Because it's Monday. And it's because it is Monday, that I wake up just aching to get the day over with. My life is a routine and has been for all my life practically. But today? On this Monday? Something weird happened to me. I was walking past street corner, and this hobo came up to me.

That wasn't the weird part. When you are walking down the streets of Boston, it isn't exactly a shock. But it's what he said when he came up to me that confused me.

"I do not know what to do anymore. I've lost my job, my wife...I've lost it all: my life. I've asked God what it is I should do, and I just do not think he is going to answer me back."

I stood there, confused and a bit freaked out. Who wouldn't? Am I wearing a cross on my chest? Am I holding rosary beads? Am I wearing a dress? Why the heck does this dude come up to me like I'm some Priest to lead the way? I was scared, that's what. So I acted on instinct; it was kind of weird in itself too.

"Uh, there's always the Church, you know. You know the Cathedral, just a few blocks down? It's huge, you cannot miss it. Maybe God will answer you there. Matter a fact, I know one of the priest there real well. His name is Father Damian. He's helped me with some things I thought was the end of the world too. Have a talk with him. He'll help you get your life back on track, I'm sure."

And then, the hobo did, what from my experience at least, never did...unless he was trying to rob you. He hugged me. I gotta admit, despite the bad breathe, terrible odor...oddly enough it felt...good. I felt good. Yea...I felt good.

So after the short awkwardness, the hobo took off heading towards the Cathedral. Took me a while to take in what happened--never exactly been hugged by a hobo before--before I started walking down the street, took a left at the corner, and walked down the crosswalk to where Grace would be waiting for me; like she is always waiting for me. Like I said, routines routines routines...and today was Monday.

I walk into the coffee shop, and there she is, sitting there as if I had already done something wrong; she gave me the look. I swear, sometimes it is like she expects me to read her mind or something. So I always toy with her a bit to ease the tension.

"Okay, so whose funeral did I miss this time?"

"You didn't show up, Michael."


"Show up for what? I'm here, aren't I? Let's go to the counter, and order us some--"

"So you did just flat out forget? Great. I was starting to think you were just hung over or something. Then again...you don't drink. Do you have any idea how embarrassed I was this morning?"

Oh crap...today wasn't supposed to be like any other Monday and I forgot. I knew something was odd. Guess the hobo incident was more of a clue.

"Baby, I...I'm real sorry. I know the meeting with those art gallery people was important to you, but--"

"Important to me? I was doing this for you, Michael. Trying to get your name and work out there! Get you noticed! What kind of a girlfriend sets up a meeting with one of the most eloquent and most respect art galleries in Boston? Do you know how lucky you are to have a girlfriend like me?"

This is where I gotta play it smooth with the 'A' game. I lean over the table and work my magic.

"So lucky that I don't deserve you sometimes..."

I lean in for the kiss, and it backfires on me because she backs away for once.

"Damn straight. And what's with your eyes? Are you wearing contacts? You tell me you don't want me to dye my hair because 'God gave me my hair color' and what not and you go and buy contacts to 'accessorize' your eyes?"

"Please, don't start this again. And try to keep the cursing to the minimum."

"Since when was damn a--"

"Baby, please."

Plan A backfired, so I go with Plan B. She struck me earlier with her look, so I give her my look. And it works like I knew it would; never fails. Before I know it, she sneaks in a quick peck on the cheek.

"Now that's more like it. But if anything this is probably a sign from God. I didn't really like those people anyway. What you call 'respected' I call 'snobbish'. I don't want my pieces of art to hang on their walls."

She rolls her eyes at me, but she cannot help but smile as I still got my look on. We both get off from the table and walk over to the counter. She orders a simple coffee; how boring. I personally like to screw with these java joes and spice up the order.

"Yea, uh...lemme get a small latte, not so hot, no foam, with three pumps of cinnamon, a dash...now, just a dash of honey...uh, let's see...what the heck...top it off with some whipped cream in a ceramic cup."

The guy just stares at me for a second. Then it hits me.

"Oh! Yea, and uh...make it half-caf."


Grace hits me on the shoulder as I smirk, and then the guy hands me my receipt. I'd argue with her that I'm an artist, and I must make things more exciting...but I've toyed enough with her for the morning.
 
Dylan sees the whisps of smoke rising from his desk. He looks back at The Survivor

Game on.

Dylan focuses his look upon him and with a sinister smile says, "Ahhh Detective Anderson. She was so easy to break I almost felt a twinge of guilt at the ease of which she cracked under my command. Almost."
Command? Adam's smile washed away as a look of confusion replaced it. What's this nut talking about?
He stands up, looks out the window and says, "I can have anything in this city. I own the media, the cops, a good portion of the judges, city Government & even a state senator. There are two things I don't have. One I want more than anything else but I can never have for it would eventually be hinderance to my control of this city. Secondly,...."

He turns to The Survivor and says, "A super-hero as it were until now. You self-rightous do-gooders are so blind to what is all around you. Any of you could take all this city has to offer and you choose to ignore it. I don't ignore it I choose to take what I deserve. In the end though you all are a threat to me. Well it's now time for one of those threats to become a memory."

Dylan pulls a revolver out from his desk and slides it to Adam.

He says, "You will now take that revovler and blow your head off."
The Survivor looked down at the gun. Something wasn't quite right. He carefully picked it up and weighed it in his hand. The feel of the revolver, the smell of the cordite, the look of the black barrel - something just felt off about it. Oh well.

And with that, Locke opened his mouth and slid the gun inside. Why not? He pulled the trigger and didn't even hear the explosion as his brains erupted out the back of his head in a hail of blood and bone.
 
Three Years Ago
The teacher sat at the head of the classroom, with one leg over the other, and a book propped up on it. He was reading aloud, in the mildly amused way of one who knew that no one was listening. A loud voice boomed out over the quiet.

"Do you have a name?"

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet." the teacher said steadily. He heard hushed voices.

"What does that mean?"

"No idea. What about the kids?"

"Are the children safe?"

"These violent delights have violent ends . . ."

"Why have you done this man?"

"What must be shall be,"

"I've had enough of this guy. We can guess the kids are dead. Let's go!" said a hushed. Then the door burst in. The man didn't move as the police knocked him over and bundled him on the bloody floor.

"For never was a story of more woe
Than this of Juliet and her Romeo."
he gasped.

Three Years Later

"A skull was found outside the New York Police Department this morning. The commisioner had yet to comment..." the newswoman said, before Archer switched off the tv.

What the public didn't know was the note that was found inside the mouth of the skull.

Alas, Poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio

A qoute from Hamlet, Shakespeare. Someones idea of a joke. Or at least he hoped so.

"DETECTIVE ARCHER, SIR! WE'VE FOUND THE BODY!" the high pitched voice of the receptionist called out. Archer jumped up, and ran down the stairs.

"Where is it, Lucy?" he gasped. She pointed outside with her mouth open. Archer rushed outside. A headless corpse was on the steps of the building, as the press started to arrive.

"How in gods name did you get here so quickly?" he demanded of them. One stepped forwards.

"Anonymous tip-off, an hour ago sir," he said. A woman in the gathering crowd screamed. Archer bent down on one knee and looked at the body. There was a note pinned to it:

Something Wicked this way comes!


 
Command? Adam's smile washed away as a look of confusion replaced it. What's this nut talking about? The Survivor looked down at the gun. Something wasn't quite right. He carefully picked it up and weighed it in his hand. The feel of the revolver, the smell of the cordite, the look of the black barrel - something just felt off about it. Oh well.

And with that, Locke opened his mouth and slid the gun inside. Why not? He pulled the trigger and didn't even hear the explosion as his brains erupted out the back of his head in a hail of blood and bone.

Dylan hears the gun fire and smirks, but then realizes something.

He hasn't fallen over dead....he should be a splatter on my carpet by now.

He slowly says, "No...no...impossible."
 
Adam Locke's body twitched in place, barely keeping its balance as it staggered back and forth between one foot and the other. In the back of what could only loosely be called his consciousness at this time, he could hear crackling and hissing. Could it have been a side affect of his brain cells multiplying and regrowing their numbers? Was it the sound of the fibers of bone twisting together and solidifying to reform the back of his skull? Whatever the noise was, it grew louder and louder until The Survivor's eyes stirred back to life and blinked rapidly, trying to clear the blood from his vision.

In what seemed like a torturous eternity, but was actually only roughly ten seconds, the twitching in Adam's body soon came to a halt. Suddenly, a scream and a splash of blood and bone fragments came out of Locke's mouth, splattering the gore onto Dylan Chambers' desk. When he would reflect on it later, the Survivor would never be sure if the scream was from his nerves realigning themselves and maybe crosswiring slightly, or if he was simply shocked at the devastating harm that had been so easily done to him. Whatever the reason, the scream came to an abrupt stop as Adam looked straight into Chambers' bewildered, but calculating, eyes.

Adam couldn't stay here a moment longer! Who knew what else Chambers would do to him? Ignoring every tactic of gauging the enemy and gaining the upper hand, Adam let his pure survival instincts take over. His actions were practically a blur as a blast of fiery energy shot from his eyes and shattered one of the large window panels that lined the office. The Survivor didn't even look into Mindwipe's eyes a final time before leaping over the desk and diving straight out the broken window.
 
Adam Locke's body twitched in place, barely keeping its balance as it staggered back and forth between one foot and the other. In the back of what could only loosely be called his consciousness at this time, he could hear crackling and hissing. Could it have been a side affect of his brain cells multiplying and regrowing their numbers? Was it the sound of the fibers of bone twisting together and solidifying to reform the back of his skull? Whatever the noise was, it grew louder and louder until The Survivor's eyes stirred back to life and blinked rapidly, trying to clear the blood from his vision.

In what seemed like a torturous eternity, but was actually only roughly ten seconds, the twitching in Adam's body soon came to a halt. Suddenly, a scream and a splash of blood and bone fragments came out of Locke's mouth, splattering the gore onto Dylan Chambers' desk. When he would reflect on it later, the Survivor would never be sure if the scream was from his nerves realigning themselves and maybe crosswiring slightly, or if he was simply shocked at the devastating harm that had been so easily done to him. Whatever the reason, the scream came to an abrupt stop as Adam looked straight into Chambers' bewildered, but calculating, eyes.

Adam couldn't stay here a moment longer! Who knew what else Chambers would do to him? Ignoring every tactic of gauging the enemy and gaining the upper hand, Adam let his pure survival instincts take over. His actions were practically a blur as a blast of fiery energy shot from his eyes and shattered one of the large window panels that lined the office. The Survivor didn't even look into Mindwipe's eyes a final time before leaping over the desk and diving straight out the broken window.


Dylan watches The Survivor dive out the window in utter disbelief.

How....it...impossible. No! I refuse to believe that. However I cannot ignore the reality of the situation that I have just seen.

He sits at his desk and dials building maintence on his phone.

Dylan says, "Roger this is Mr. Chambers. I just had a rather sizable bird slam into my window, could you and your crew get up here and replace it a-s-a-p? ...Excellent. Of course you and your men will get their usual double pay and an extra 50% increase if you or your crew don't get an urge to ask any questions...excellent...I'll see you within the hour."

Dylan then cleans off his desk and sits back down. Buffing his nails and processing the events of the afternoon he realizes one thing...

Well if nothing else I have finally found someone in this city who represents a challenge to me.
 
"Are you ready sir?" The Private nervously asked. You could he was afraid of two things. The first was that I would be hurt. The second was what I was going to do to him if I was.


"Yes. Just do it." I muttered as I stood ready. I thought this was a strange facility for testing, but apparently the President was going a bit unorthodox. I was in an automobile testing center, where they crashed cars into walls to test their saftey.

I was taking the place of the wall.

The Nissan came flying at me at an amazing speed. Part of me thought it was funny that we were using a Japanese company. Why couldn't they throw a Ford at me?

I braced my self and held me hands in front of me just as the car hit me. It pushed me back but I dug my fingers into the metal of the bumper and slammed my feet into the ground.

I grunted, gritted my teeth and threw the car over my shoulder.

"I'd say that was a success."

There were several test involving things like that to test my speed, agility, and strength. The strangest test was when they told me they were going to blindfold me.

"And what is this supposed to test?" I asked, annoyed. I was tired of being poked and prodded.

"Sir, you will see." The private said. He had developed somewhat of an arrogant attitude, and I was not liking it. Apparently this guy now thought I was invincible.

"Alright then. Do it." I grumbled and he blindfolded me.

"Now defend yourself sir." He said.

What? Defend myself blindfold? Without ever having seen what was coming at me? What the hell was this? The President was really getting on my nerves.

I took a deep breath and assumed a defensive stance. I breathed out through my mouth and then in through my nose. I quieted my breathing and listened.

Suddenly information flooded into my mind. I could hear 6 footsteps, meaning 3 people on either side of me. I could smell their lunch. The strangest part was that with the slight breeze in the facility, I could feel where they were.

I lept out of the way as one raised a gun at me. Without hesitation I disarmed him and then fired it at another opponent and shot the gun out of his hand. I then flipped the gun to my other hand, the barrel flat against the third person's head as he had approached me from behind.

"Another success."
 

Pulseseason1.png


Gang Wars Part XII

District: Blitzen

City: Cellvile

Location: Warehouse 23

"Kill those mother ****ers! Shoot them up!"​

Bullets fly across through the air, the flashes from the guns illuminate the area, as the street quickly becomes like a battlefield. Green clothed men fire a barage of gunfire toward the warehouses. The red clothed men run inside or take cover behind the closest object. They return fire, and soon, the street turns into a frightening simulation of war. Sear heads the Kulls as they fire from behind the cars. Ducking when they need to reload. Crosshair gets to his knees on the roof, taking aim as he tries to direct the Reds to return fire. The drug runners drop the cases they hold and duck to the ground, trying to continue to stay neutral and out of the line of fire. One of the men takes off his mask, revealing his red skin and yellow eyes. He crawls to one of his comrades, and grabs his arm forcefully.​

"What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know, devil."

"Are they ****ing insane?" The other drug runner stares at his friend, and lowers his head.​

"No." He says as he sighs. "They're ****ing dead." The man pulls his mask off, as he reveals the horror underneath. His eyes are pure white, with no sign of pupils. The man smiles, and turns to his red skinned friend.
"You ready to show them what happens to bastards who break the rules?"

"Let's."

The two men stand to their feet. They dodge the gunfire, and begin running toward the Kull defenses. The Kulls continue to fire at the Reds members. One of the Kulls shouts out to his leader in confusion, as he sees the two mutant drug runners coming toward them.​

"Yo! Treads! We suppossed to fire at them Others?" Treadlin reloads his weapon, and nods to Sear, as he gets back up to continue shooting.​

"Yes! As far as we're concerned, they are just as deadly as the Reds! Kill em all! Leave no one left." Sear smiles, and adjusts his pistol.​

"Excellent. More targets."

The two drug runners get closer and closer to the cars lined on the street. The red member, devil, grabs his friend, and holds him back from running.​

"What the hell are you doing, devil?"

"Taking them out." Devil opens his jaws, a small vacuum forms inside his mouth, as blue particles begin to form. Suddenly, a large firery cloud shoots from his mouth like a flamethrower, and engulfs the cars in a blaze.​

"That's it, devil!"

The Kulls duck behind their cars, as the windows shatter, and the metal begins to melt. They hold their heads, as they try to stay safe from the fire.​

"What are we going to do!?"​

"What the **** is that!?"​

"Calm down, rookies." Sear says. He gets to the ground, and aims his arm under the car. He lines his wrist dart launcher up with the mutants leg, and fires. The dart hits his calf, and instantly takes effect. The mutant's fire slowly dies out, as his eyes roll back in his head. The fire stops completely, and he drops to the ground, as smoke releases from his mouth.​

"Deadshot." Sear gets to his feet, and stands back over the car. "Fire, *******s, fire!" The Kulls get back to their feet, and continue to fire.​

Crosshairs crouches behind a small chimeney on the roof of the warehouse, as he surveys the carnage below. He talks into his communicator, as he tries to unhook a grenade from his leg.​

"Rockfist! Its bad, man! Real bad! I think the shipment is damaged. And one of the drug runners! He was a ****ing Other!" He listens into the communicator, as he pulls the explosive from his leg. "Ok, I gotcha. Any force? Awsome."

Crosshair takes the pin from the grenade, and gets to his feet. He throws the grenade toward the street, as it soars through the air.​

"Oh ****!" Sear sees the falling grenade. He quickly lifts his pistol, and takes a shot without aiming. He hits the grenade head on, and it explodes in the air. The air above the two factions turns to fire, as shrapnel shoots in all directions. "That bastard just threw a grenade! Fire"

The Kulls and Reds get back to their feet, and continue to assault the other side in a hail of bullets. The other drug runner crawls to his fallen friend. He checks his pulse, and discovers the sad truth of war. Death.​

"No! Devil! Damn you bastards!" He gets to his feet, and runs toward the Kulls as fast as he can. As he runs, his eyes begin to emit a strange glow. Sear sees the man coming, and immediately takes action.​

"No way, buddy! You aren't killin' us!" Sear aims his wrist dart toward the drug runner. The dart hits him, and he continues to run toward the Kulls, unaffected. "What the ****?"

"I won't die until I have your throats, traitors!" Sear fires another dart, and then another, and another. The darts hit the approaching mutant, and penetrate his skin, yet he continues to run unfased by the attack. Sear begins to panic. He reaches for an Uzi on the ground from a fallen Kull. He checks the cartidge, and fires.​

"Die you mother-" Suddenly, the mutant begins to glow bright, as light shines through his translucent skin. Sear stares in awe at the strange man, as he holds his Uzi steady. "That ****er's going to blow!" Sear reloads the Uzi quickly, and takes aim once again. "Fire! Fire! Fire!"

The bullets hit the mutant, as they go deep into his body. With every bullet hole made, the inner light shines through the mutant brighter and brighter.​

"Now you'll know why I am called Supernova!" The man shouts.​

"Kill him!" Sear shouts in fear.​

The mutant shines brighter and brighter by the second. Beneath his skin can be seen the darker tones of red and orange, as he glows brighter and brighter.​

"You'll pay you bastards!"

Suddenly, a figure drops from the sky. He kicks the mutant to the ground, sending him skidding across the dirt ground. The gunfire ceases from both sides, and smoke and dust fill the air. The mutant lies unconcious on the ground, as his skin begins to revert back to normal, and his light quickly dims. Within seconds, darkness engulfs the area once again. Sear stares at the figure, and he smiles under his helmet. From the top of the warehouse roof, Crosshair peaks out, and sees the figure. He smiles, and lets out a small laugh. Crosshair gets to his feet, and begins to clap.​

"Ha. Ha. Ha. Very good, Pulse. Very good. I'm glad you can join in on the party."

Sear looks up at Crosshair, and suddenly realizes the identity of the strange figure.​

"Pulse?" he calls out. "This is the mighty Pulse!"

"Mhmh...Yes, Sear! This is the mighty savior of Blitzen!"

Pulse sneers, and clenches his teeth. He opens his hands, and holds them up, pointed toward both sides of the battlefield.​

"This ends here! You all will die tonight! This will be the last time I watch innocents get caught in the crossfire."

"Ha! We will see!" Crosshair takes his gun, and aims towards Pulse. Pulse looks up as the other gangmembers on the street, both Kull and Red alike, reload their guns. The air fills with the sound of clicks as the new cartridges are put into the guns. Pulse holds his arms steady, as the gangmembers aim their weapons.​

"As long as you know your fate, then." Pulse crouches, as Crosshair pulls the trigger. The first bullet flies through the air, and Pulse propels himself into the sky, barely dodging the bullet.​

"Fire!"

Bullets fill the air once again as both sides fire their weapons. The sound of approaching sirens rings faint behind the firing of the guns. Sear smiles, and talks to himself inside his helmet.​

"Finally. My day of atonement. Pulse. The greatest target of all has been delivered to me. Tonight, his blood will fill the streets, and I will become the most notorious mercenary of all. The mighty Sear. The only man able to kill Pulse."
 
EZEKIEL

The minds of many has fallen and become part of something greater, Ezekiel. Now he was privy to more information about S.T.R.I.K., which would inevitably lead him to further victims, a cycle of growth and power.

Not wanting to waste time, the nearest location which he had gained knowledge of would only take a short while to get there, a S.T.R.I.K.E detention facility, heavily guarded, but not heavily enough.

Within a brief span of time, Ezekiel descended upon the compound. A horde of agents were seemingly ready for him, circling, they began to unleash a volley of mixed powers and abilities, energies and lights bombarded him.

Soon he collapsed to the ground. S.T.R.I.K.E’s operatives closed in, their ears greeted with an unusual sound. Laughter.
Pulling himself up, Ezekiel had them right where he wanted them, ready to unleash horrific force.

1iujgghhrttqa5.jpg

 
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Season 1, Part 45

I weave in and out of streetlights, leaping down the suburban street. The chorus of cricket chirps resounds throughout the neighborhood. I don't know what I'm doing...I'm just being impulsive.

Finally, I'm here. I look up at Brooke's home. A white picket fence surrounds the property. There are lush gardens adorning the front of the house. White shutters stand in sharp contrast to the dark brown siding. The front door has a large, oval window. Warm light eminates from it, and the entire house seems so at peace. Granted, it's near midnight, and everyone is probably asleep.

I make my way around to the side of the house. I begin to scale up the side, moving towards a bright window. When I'm close enough, I peek in. Brooke is sitting there, brushing her hair absent-mindedly.

Her room is very inviting. The walls are sky-blue, with fluffy, white clouds interspersed here and there. The carpet is green, like my costume. On her ceiling, she has placed glow-in-the-dark stars. Her bed - which she's sitting on - is a light pink. It's not an obnoxious shade, but rather a cool, pastel one.

But I'm not focusing on the room. Instead, my eyes stay locked on her. She's so amazing. Her light red hair flows over her left shoulder as she brushes it. Her face radiates with natural beauty. She wouldn't even need make-up. Her lips are naturally pinks, and her cheeks are intrinsically rosy. My heart skips a beat as I observe these things.

Why are you doing this? What do you intend on gaining by coming here? In the middle of the night, no less!

I ignore my conscience, and I tap lightly on the window. It's too late to turn back now. Her captivating green eyes linger over to where I'm crouching. It registers almost instantly, and they widen with shock. She hops off the bed and walks over to the window. I notice that she's barefoot.

When she opens the window, she asks, "Sean? What are you doing here?"

I can't find my voice at first. Finally, I begin to respond, "Look. I know I shouldn't be here...for a million different reasons. But I can't stay away."

"How'd you get up here?"

"I climbed up the tree," I lie, nodding to the tree that rises outside her window.

She squints before accepting my fib. "Why are you here?"

"Can I come in?" I ask.

She nods quickly. "Of course," she replies as she backs away from the window.

I duck through the opening and enter her room. I put my hands into the front pocket of my sweatshirt as I look around at her room, as I absorb all the sights, sounds, and smells.

"So," Brooke begins as she shuts her window. Her tone still resonates with confusion...rightfully so.

"Right...um..." I start feebly. I scratch the back of my head as I try to tip-toe my way around the words. Finally, I realize that I'm just going to have to be blunt about it. "Listen...I know what I'm doing, I shouldn't be doing. I mean, I've got Marilyn - for whatever that's worth - and you and I are just starting to get to know one another..."

Brooke folds her arms. I guess she's starting to piece it together, but she's being skeptical. "Yeah..."

I put my hand on her shoulder. "You're absolutely beautiful. And I can't stop thinking about you and the way you make me feel."

Her eyes are riveted to my hand. I wish I had telepathy so I could find out what's going on in her head.

Here goes...

I move my hand from her shoulder to her cheek, and I turn her face to look at me. Her eyes are wide and glimmering in the light.

"I don't know if this is mutual or not...and I'm not sure if I should continue..."

She reaches up and puts her hand on mine, feeling its warm embrace. Then, she leans forward and tilts her head slightly to the side. When she sees me return the gesture, her eyes slide slowly shut.

And in that instant, we're kissing. I revel in the warmth of her lips, and I feel her arms wrap tightly around my neck. Unsure of what to do, I place my hands on her hips, and her body leans in to touch mine.

When the kiss is over, we rest our heads on each other's shoulders. I lightly kiss her neck as she asks, "What about Marilyn?"

I pull back and look at her. She's biting her bottom lip in anticipation. The sight of it melts my heart.

"I don't know. I know that I should tell her, but I don't know if I can. It's...complicated," I respond honestly. Truthfully, Marilyn's actually gotten better since we started going out...though she's still entirely self-centered. Frankly, I'm sort of afraid of what she'll do to me or Brooke if I tell her about this. She can be vengeful at times.

"Then we don't tell her," Brooke suggests.

I raise an eyebrow. "Really? You'd lead this double-life...friend by day, girlfriend by night?"

She smiles devilishly. "Sort of romantic, isn't it? Besides, I've sort of been waiting for you until now...I can wait a little longer."

I hug her once again. I speak softly into her ear, "You're so great. Look, Marilyn and I were doomed from the start. You just have to give me some time to end it...my way."

"Fine," she states in a tone of pretend disappointment. "But don't keep me waiting forever."

I smile and then lean in to kiss her again. I response, she reaches her index finger and plants it firmly on my lips.

"Not yet," she says, with a smile of twisted amusement on her face.

"Fine," I respond, imitating her previous tone. She just rolls her eyes as I put one foot out the window. "G'night."

She nods, and I leap out onto the tree branch. I watch as she closes her blinds, winking at me in the process. Once the coast is clear, I take off over the rooftops.

That went well.
 
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Season I, Part 46

"Can you believe that? If he was going to lie, he should've done better than that," Jim wraps up his story. We're at my locker, and I'm grabbing my books for the day.

"Hey there," Brooke announces as she strolls past us.

I turn and face her, and she smiles as our eyes meet. "Hey, Brooke."

She continues along, and I watch her walk the entire way.

Finally, Jim's voice snaps my trance. "What just happened?"

"Nothing,"
I respond as I bury my head back into my locker. I can tell that I'm starting to turn red.

"Oh no...if you can tell me about your tights and superpowers, you can fill me in with Brooke," Jim insists. "We don't keep secrets, remember?"

I roll my eyes. "There's nothing to fill you in on. Believe it or not, sometimes I do have a NORMAL day without some monumental event occurring," I insist. Jim knows me long enough that he can see straight through it.

"Are you two...dating?"

"No! Well...not yet. We want to, but I'm not sure what to tell Marilyn," I confess.

Jim looks utterly perplexed. "Who gives a rat's ass about Marilyn?!"

"I do! And you know how she is...if I dump her for Brooke, she'll never let it drop,"
I remind him.

"Well, you two can't - and won't - stay together forever. I'm sure she'll give you some reason to dump her soon enough," Jim suggests. I merely shrug. "So what made you want this?"

I scan the hallway. No one's listening. "I got the s*** kicked out of me...y'know, doing the whole Mantis thing. And it made me realize...my life is constantly on the line. I can't afford to sit around and waste time. I need to seize the opportunities available to me."

Jim nods. "Yeah...superhero-ism doesn't exactly come with health insurance. Speaking of which, how's the double-life coming?"

"Easier to manage than I thought it would be. The only time it becomes an issue is during school,"
I explain. "I think my parents are beginning to get suspicious of all the time I spend out of the house, but they'd never figure it out."

"And you don't even have to wear glasses or act mild-mannered!" Jim smirks.
 
There were several test involving things like that to test my speed, agility, and strength. The strangest test was when they told me they were going to blindfold me.

"And what is this supposed to test?" I asked, annoyed. I was tired of being poked and prodded.

"Sir, you will see." The private said. He had developed somewhat of an arrogant attitude, and I was not liking it. Apparently this guy now thought I was invincible.

"Alright then. Do it." I grumbled and he blindfolded me.

"Now defend yourself sir." He said.

What? Defend myself blindfold? Without ever having seen what was coming at me? What the hell was this? The President was really getting on my nerves.

I took a deep breath and assumed a defensive stance. I breathed out through my mouth and then in through my nose. I quieted my breathing and listened.

Suddenly information flooded into my mind. I could hear 6 footsteps, meaning 3 people on either side of me. I could smell their lunch. The strangest part was that with the slight breeze in the facility, I could feel where they were.

I lept out of the way as one raised a gun at me. Without hesitation I disarmed him and then fired it at another opponent and shot the gun out of his hand. I then flipped the gun to my other hand, the barrel flat against the third person's head as he had approached me from behind.

"Another success."

Test after test. It really was amazing what I could do. It was even more amazing what the President had done after the test was completed.

I was now a one-man task force. The President probably planned on adding others to the task force once he found them, but for now, it was me. I had the authority to do whatever necesary to protect the safety of the people of this country. I was judge, jury, and executioner.

And I got a fancy badge to go with it. For now though, I was going to sleep.
 
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