bamaHulkers

Feisty !

I was reading this, and it dawned on me that not only do we get the "origin" of Na'Rul and Conall, but also much more dimension on Ciara. Makes the whole saga blossom with a bit more color


If you don't take the time to study Ciara's origin, you don't get the fullness of why Conall and Na'Rul are who they are. Very clever, Sooner

TOTHI 39 is up. As often, couple of "warnings":

1) Have tissue handy. *I* damn near cried while I was writing it, and I *know* what's gonna happen next LOL

2) Spider Silk is a foul-mouthed young woman, so the censors got a workout with her dialogue. But, as Sooner will I'm sure agree, strong characters tend to "take off" after a while, and I think Spider (and her hulking boyfriend, Junk Chunker) are finally getting their moment on the stage after being bit players for so long.

Hope y'all like it

It was a starless sky the lovers woke to. In fact, no light was visible. Each knew the other was there, and that was enough. “I've missed you,” the man's voice said.”It was your own fault,” the woman's voice replied, a smile in her voice.


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


'MOVE IT JUNK ! WHAT THE **** HAPPENED ?!”, Spider yelled, screaming behind her and looking up the hall at the same. The gunshots and breaking glass had alerted the pair as they walked lazily toward Hunter's office. They weren't walking anymore. Spider got there first, slowing only to traverse the shards in the hall. She entered the office as her boyfriend crunched through the glass.


Jill's head arched backwards; even in shock, she was trying to keep her airway open. Her wheezing was the only sound in the room as she fought for breath, Hunter's bulk fighting against her weakening attempts. Spider looked down at the pair; she had seen trauma, she had seen death. And she knew when one was becoming the other. She freaked.


“JUNK, DAMMIT ! GET IN HERE !”, she screamed, panic entering her voice.


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


Thunder rolled through the absolute blackness. Where there had been only silence, rumbling now crossed the air where the lovers lie. In a primal fashion, they looked about for the source, then realized it was all around them.

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




Spider grabbed at Hunter and tried to pull him off Jill. “HUNTER, WAKE THE **** UP !,” she shouted, stress and adrenaline making the normally tomboyish voice start to break. She got handfuls of his shirt and threw her bulk backwards, to no avail. Junk shrugged past her, and pulled with one massive fist. The pair rolled slightly, and he could see Hunter's hands locked behind Jill's waist. “They're stuck,” he grumbled. “UNSTICK THEM ! “, Spider shot back, her eyes beginning to tear, her hands beginning to flap about randomly as the panic started to consume her. Junk reached down with both hands, and pulled up on Hunter. The bodies rose several inches from the ground, but remained locked together.


“He won't let her go,” Junk said flatly.

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


He felt something pulling, trying to get the woman away from him. He tightened his embrace, locked his fingers together behind her, and pulled her into him. Nothing would take her away. Not again.


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


“PICK 'EM UP ! GET 'EM OFF THE GROUND ! C'MON, SHE'S STILL ALIVE ! C'MON ! “ Junk rolled the couple, and with a bear-like roar, slung them like a huge sack of concrete over his shoulder. He was starting out the door, when Spider saw The Shooter waiting on the elevator. She hadn't even bothered to holster her pistol.


“***** !”, Spider screamed down the hall at the woman, and lashed out with her power. The battering ram of energy blazed down the empty hall, slamming into the unprepared Shooter as she turned to face Spider. The assassin went tumbling toward the door marked STAIRS.


The young mutant turned back to her own lover as she considered what she needed to do. “Junk, honey... I can hold her off, but I can't do that and get Hunter and that lady to help. You're gonna have to leave with them.” She looked down the hall at the only two exits from the floor, and momentarily panicked.


Sweat beaded on her forehead as her mind redlined thinking of what happened next.


Then she grinned . There was one other way out of here. And that ***** couldn't get to it.


“Junk, bust the wall. “ she growled.


“What ?” he grunted back, shifting the weight on his shoulder.


“Bust...the sheet-rock...go up the ******* stairs... and get them out of here !”, she snapped back.


He looked back at the tenacious young woman, and saw a fury in her eyes that made him believe in her. And it still wasn't quite enough to overcome his instinct to protect her at all costs.


The Shooter stirred on the floor, regaining her feet slowly.


“Gotta do it NOW, Junk ! NOW ! “, Spider yelled at him, flaring her hands in front of her. The force field spread just in time to catch the first shot.


“Junk, Hunter and that woman WILL die if they don't get help. Get up those stairs. There is a phone..”


A second shot slammed into the invisible wall she had made. She winced at the impact.


“Directions are next to the phone.” She paused, looking up at her boyfriend, love softening her gaze for a moment. “Honey, you gotta go. I can do this, but you gotta trust me.” She gestured at the couple on his shoulder. “They're trusting you and they don't even know it. Don't let them down.”


He bit his lip. He was trying not to let Spider see him welling up. He grunted, shifted the dead weight on his shoulder, and threw one hand toward the wall. A large statue appeared with a smell of ozone, and boomed into the wall. A huge hole appeared in the sheet rock, and Junk started toward the opening.


“I'll be back for you.” he said softly, the deep voice softening with emotion.


“Counting on it,” she smiled as another bullet hit the barrier. “Love You, Junk Man”


“Love You, Spider Babe”, he rumbled, and started plodding up the stairs.

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

The phone was plain and black except for one feature; it only had a single button in the center of the case. As if the designer had anticipated the finder's puzzlement; the first direction on the sheet next to the phone was “Push the Button.”


Squatting slightly, Junk puffed air from his lips to blow sweat away from his eyes, and pushed the button. Almost immediately, the phone rang. He picked up the receiver to hear Clifford Simms' voice at the other end.


“Who is this and what happened ?”, the old man barked. “Uh... this is Junk, Mr. Simms. Doc and a woman visitor been shot by the secretary, and now Spider's pissed her off to give me some time to get Doc and the lady outta here.”


There was a momentary silence, then Simms spoke again, softer now. “Okay son, I want you to listen. I got a call to make. You're in that room so I gotta guess you can't get to the elevator. This is what I want you to do. Make another hole, Junk... blow that damn window out, and a big chunk of the wall with it. Help's coming. Gotta go. ” The line went silent, and the big man was suddenly quite scared.


With a exhaled breath like an agitated ox, Junk set the pair down on the floor. His muscles immediately reacted to the released weight by trying to relax. Junk looked at the confines of the room, then tiredly at the sunlight coming through the window. He squatted in front of the unconscious pair, because he knew he was about to make a very big mess. He closed his eyes, and thrust his hands in front of him.


A wino in the alley two floors down looked up just in time to see a small car body explode from a window, raining bricks and mortar down before it crashed to the roof across the wide alley.


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

There had a sensation of violent movement for a few minutes, then they had come to a rest. The darkness was still absolute, but judging by the deafening thunder, they must be in the midst of a terrifying storm.


And yet, they did not feel fear. Somewhere in the ether about them, there was tangible hope.


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


Junk had dragged the bodies to the edge of the hole in the wall. He himself sat slumped, his booted feet dangled into empty air two stories off the pavement. His chin was on his chest. He was near exhaustion. The long minutes he had been resting seemed to be letting the adrenaline fall from him like water going down a drain. He heard a large vehicle pulling up down below, and opened his eyes.


A large ambulance, unlike any he had seen before, was rolling to a stop. Except for the size, it was unremarkable; plain white, no insignia. Once it stopped, he saw the old man spring from the passenger side.


“SEND 'EM DOWN, JUNK ! MOVE IT ! GONNA BE OKAY, BUT YOU GOTTA GET THEM DOWN HERE !” Simms yelled up as a uniformed man removed a large stretcher from the back end of the vehicle.




Junk looked back to the couple, then back to Simms. “HIT THE STRETCHER, JUNK ! MOVE 'EM NOW !”, the farmer yelled back to the youth, as if he could see the confusion from down there. Then Junk understood.


He focused on the stretcher, and hoped this would work. He pivoted at his waist, and moved his hands over Hunter and Jill. Then, he set his gaze back on the stretcher, and snapped his arms back in its direction. There was a whisper of air, and a barely perceptible metallic clank as the bodies disappeared and reappeared almost immediately on the stretcher below.Junk smiled imperceptibly, and fell on his back on the gritty floor behind him.


The uniformed man was joined by another, and the two of them wrestled the stretcher back into the vehicle.


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

There had been the sensation of flight, but only for the length of half a breath, then a brief jarring. The thunder was subsiding, almost gone now.
A peaceful quiet wrapped them like a blanket, and he felt like he had kept a promise.

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

“Where's Spider ?”, Simms yelled back up.


Junk inhaled sharply, yanked his legs back from the abyss, and struggled to his feet in a panicked jumble.


The sound of gunshots was getting closer down in the hall.

New TOTHI is up First and foremost, a deep thank you (and a cup of medicinal coffee !) to my gunslinging muse who helped make sure of...stuff

I've been working toward this chapter (and the next few) for months, so while I appreciate the urgency I hope you'll feel when you read it, gonna have to get all Paul Masson on you and "...post no chapter before its time"

Enjoy

The door thudded shut behind Jill with an audible whuff as she entered the lobby of the Hunter Institute. She stopped to smooth her black dress, and let her eyes adjust to the gloom of the area. Unwilled, her gaze darted instinctively around the room until she saw the surveillance camera. She looked down at the dingy tile, cursing the mindset that would not let go, even as she stood in a strange place, defenseless in more than just lack of firepower. Her eyes studied her hands; once they would be occupied with twin .45 pistols. Now they just had imperfect, chipped fingernails. She wanted to be more than what she had become; she refused to quit trying to struggle her way back to normal. She refused to surrender to her past.


Biting her lip in determination, she met the unblinking eye of the camera, smiling and waving in hopes someone would see her. Someone did.

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


The Shooter prepared to greet Jill in a singular fashion. She withdrew the pistol from her “purse”, checking the action of the slide, checking the spring of the mag, unloading and reloading it with full metal jacketed bullets.


Anyone could kill by making a big hole in someone. The Shooter was better than that. She would greet Jill with a single shot through the heart, and she would do it less than eight feet away from that sullen ******* Hunter. She wanted him to see Jill die before his eyes, knowing there wasn't ******** he could do to save her. With any luck, Jill would be damn near dead before she hit the floor. Sure, the leggy ***** would bleed a little, but hey, can't make a masterpiece without smudging a little paint sometimes.


She slid the mag back into the gun like a sex act, and grinned to herself the same way.

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


Jill coughed once as she approached the elevator. The place was dusty; she wasn't sure what she had hoped for, really, but it wasn't this. She hadn't expected perfect- “This is Mike after all, “ she mused to herself, but she had expected something a bit more professional, not so... One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest looking. The elevator bell dinged, the sound ricocheting off the wall and startling her. The doors opened on an empty car, and she stepped in.


The doors clunked shut, and the car began to move. The butterflies that had been just behind her on the walk here all collided with her gut at the same time, the nerves threatening to make her sick. She closed her eyes, and breathed deeply. “Was this a really good idea ?', she mused nervously, and reached for guns that were no longer there. Her hands returned to her fluttering abdomen, clenching and unclenching each other in futile support.

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


Hunter was nervous. When Jill had looked up at the camera, her image went to a monitor over the main door to his office area, and Hunter glanced up at the polite beep it made to alert there was a contact. He recognized Jill immediately, and within seconds emotion began to cascade into his mind. The joy of seeing that face was crippled by the guilt of knowing he had been a ice-hearted ******* the last night he saw her. He would never get that back, never. She had disappeared from his world for months it seemed, and he had resigned himself to carrying the guilt of having failed yet another woman he cared for.


And she was headed up here now. The elevator would open, she would walk out, the second chance he in no way deserved would walk alongside her. Another chance.


The elevator stopped. A chime dinged, echoing down a hallway filled with his nervous energy.


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



Junk took Spider's hand as they walked out of their room, smiling. They had curled up on an old couch in their room, and without a word spoken, watched sunlight play off the surfaces of the walls and furniture as they cuddled. A few minutes ago, Hunter had yelled down the hall there was a visitor, and they needed to come meet her. He sounded excited (“For a change”, Spider had thought and smiled to herself), so they had lazily rose from the couch, walking toward the office to see what was so damn special.

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


Jill exited the elevator, standing still for a moment as her eyes darted left and right trying to figure which way she should head. Seeing nothing but a door marked “STAIRS” on her right, she turned left and walked toward the large door at the end. Her heels clacked on the linoleum as she moved toward the door. Her hands clenched again.

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


Hunter moved about the office, pacing like a caged animal. His feelings had swarmed him now, and he was being engulfed in WHAT NOW. He darted around the front area, picking at imaginary dust balls, crumpling papers and throwing them in the wastebasket. He straightened a chair, then again, looking very much like a bear batting about a ball. Finally, he crossed the room, throwing the door open to get a glance at Jill before he was face to face with her. He dashed back behind the desk, now standing at strange attention. He was focused.


He did not see who was behind him. And she was moving as well.


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

Their eyes met at a distance, and as if staged, nervous grins crossed their faces at the same time. Jill quickened her pace as she approached, but Hunter stood still. He wanted very much to move, but could not will himself to.


The Shooter had no such problem.

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


Jill crossed the threshold, her smile reaching her eyes, and her eyes meeting Hunter's. Dust specks in the air, disturbed by Hunter's frenzy, made for a poor-man's star field as they caught the light. Neither of them spoke, the moment framed in silence.


As was the Shooter's sidestep around Hunter.


The Shooter sneezed as she aimed the pistol and fired.

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


As she intended, the Shooter was able to shoot from less than ten feet away. As she intended, it was a clear shot, aimed at Jill's heart.


She had not intended to sneeze.


The barrel of her weapon, advanced as it was and designed for close-quarters work, was still just a tube. A tube that could only deliver a projectile where it was pointed as the projectile left the muzzle.


The bullet crashed into Jill's left breast, dragging fragments of little black dress with it as it plowed through soft tissue. It had only began its vertical tumble as it hit the muscles of her chest wall, the result being a fortunate detour as it passed through a rib, splintering the bone as it went. It crossed the space of her lung in a chaotic frenzy, ripping the tissue as it left. Her skin tore as the metal continued out. The bullet, still intact, shattered the window behind Jill, raining shards into the hallway before striking the opposite wall and stopping.


The Shooter shoved Hunter aside “HEY BOSS ? I QUIT !”, she shouted at him as she ran out the door.


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


Jill stood for a long moment. She looked across the space at Hunter, and their eyes met. The blue was beautiful in the sunlight. Her facial features shifted, forming a quiet, confused Why? as her knees began to buckle. She slumped to the floor, landing with a whump.


Hunter remained rooted as the sound disappeared. His mind was overloaded. He gazed down at Jill, the sight of the pain coming over her finally jarring him. It had been less than two seconds as he lunged and dove, landing with his body draped over her to absorb a second shot that did not come. He looked into her eyes again.


Just as she breathed out.


His chest felt it first. The paralyzing mist from Jill's lungs hit him from point blank range. One breath could stop a man in his tracks.


Hunter got a lung and a half.


Even as her mind registered what had just happened, she could not speak. Her past came cascading forth from a treacherous physiology, and would kill the man she never got a chance to love.


The last thing Hunter saw was tears in Jill's perfect eyes.


The last thing Jill felt was Hunter's arms wrapping her in an embrace.


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

Here at the very crucial "tipping point," where Ruadh makes his deciding "mistake" to send him irretrievably down the path to become Conall, you gave us an intricate dance of characters so we could see what you see.

That's skill

Both Ruadh and Na'Rul place the other's well-being above their own. No matter what their actual natures, that's love. Nicely written !

You play words like a symphony Always a pleasure to read your work, Sooner

The devil he don't know... poor Ruadh, too

Part OMG Is He STILL Writing That ? of TOTHI is up

With the Queen moving into harms way, we start our End Game...

Note: The title does NOT refer to a Rikti Raid !

The face was distorted, clownish in its moon-like appearance. First, one eye grew large in the view, until it almost filled the picture. Then a nose grew toward the camera, like a mountain emerging. The mouth gaped open, a beefy tongue lolling out. Finally, the face retreated, and a club-like fist entered the picture. Slowly, the middle finger began to come up.


“That's lovely, Junk. Outstanding command of the medium there.”, Max sighed over the intercom link. “Get your caveman self back up here and we'll call it a day. That's all the cameras up and functioning correctly. Thank God.” The bearded man rubbed at his eyes as he pushed back from the table. The surveillance cameras were the first of many measures he had suggested to Dr. Hunter to improve security at the Institute. From this location in his lab, he could follow a person through most of the building if he had to. And he hoped he would never have to.


The cameras whirred quietly. And watched everything.

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



Jill's heels clacked on the sidewalk as she walked nervously toward the building that had been indicated to her as the Hunter Institute. After so long wearing boots, a pair of sensible heels felt like stilts to her. She had practiced all afternoon walking back and forth across the greasy, threadbare carpet in her hotel room until she was satisfied she wouldn't snap an ankle and end up writhing in a gutter on the way to see Hunter. She grinned self-consciously as she moved, the building now yards away in the late afternoon shadows.


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


With Jill on her way, the woman hiding in plain sight as Hunter's secretary, was nervous, but only from the neck up. She had seen where Max and that oaf that called himself Junk Chunker put up their surveillance cameras yesterday, and played the dumb female as she asked questions of the newest “guest” of the Institute. “How do they all run ? Do you control them ALL from your lab ? What happens if our power goes out ?” And the idiot had answered every question with a smile ! “Men...so simple,” she had thought to herself with a grin.


And she made her...modifications to his system as everyone slept. She had stifled a chuckle as she replaced the last power panel. Once the cameras were.... fixed, she secreted her gear in a corner of Hunter's office. “Office supplies,” she laughed out loud, catching herself as she listened for any indication someone had woke up; “Show can't start early without little Miss Jill as the star,” she thought. But the floor was silent.


She had dressed for success this morning. Underneath her sensible business attire was even more sensible ballistic protection, courtesy of her real employers. Her sources said Jill wasn't armed; “Where she gonna hide it in dat liddle dress ?” the clumsy sounding male voice on the phone had said a short time ago. But she wasn't stupid, despite what she had made Max believe.


No, he didn't remember her from their last meeting as “professionals”. But he would. And when he did, it would be horrifically too late. For everyone.“Max... you got soft, you fuzzy faced *******. And meanwhile, I got mean.”

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

Junk and Spider cuddled on the bed in their room. The day had gone by quickly, both of them busy helping Max work with Robbie in the Smart Armor. After what seemed like hours of repetitive exercises, Robbie had sighed comically, his exaggerated gesturing causing his “friend” Mr. Suggs to mimic him in pantomime. Max had looked at the data, then the couple, and finally Robbie and the stone golem. “That's enough excitement for one day,” he smiled. “Robbie, leave the armor on, but you and Suggs can go play in the courtyard. And you two.... just go. I don't wanna know what you two have planned.”, he smiled. He watched as the four left the lab, Robbie and Suggs going right, Junk and Spider to the left. The heavy steel door whooshed shut behind them, and Max was alone in the room.


He waited a few moments to make sure he wouldn't be disrupted, then the sound of keys tick-tacking whispered in the room. The monitor glowed again, and Max smiled. The Armor held one more surprise, and he was anxious to try it.


But tomorrow would come soon enough.


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

Suddenly, your Hero arrives...

Verra nice indeed

Full of Epic and WOW !

Second part of Jill's arrival in Paragon is up

In light of Jill's "grooming concerns", all "YOU'RE SUCH A MAN SOMETIMES !" complaints go to my in-box

Hope you enjoy

P.S- The next section may take a while to get posted. As the saying goes "****'s about to get real "

She shouldered the black hobo bag as she stepped off the train to somewhere called Kings Row. After being her constant companions for so long, the absence of her pistols was a bit unnerving, and she shrugged unconsciously trying to balance a weight that was no longer there. After the gloom of the train, the florescent lights of the station were a nigh-painful glare, and she squinted as she crossed to the ramp marked “Street Level.” She allowed herself to be jostled by the crowd, trying to learn again what it was like to blend in. She wasn't skilled at it by any means.


The crowd's proximity set off several warnings in her head, warnings that had been birthed and nurtured by a recent life running from pursuit, from law enforcement, and from close contact with other human beings. She may have dropped her pistols in the waters of the bay, but she was far from harmless. She frowned as she considered how close to painful death these people around her were; one breath, and she could slaughter a dozen. Kill children in front of their parents. Destroy a whole family. The feeling of that power of life and death over innocent bystanders used to bring her to near orgasmic joy.


Now it made her want to puke. Her gut wrenched for a second, and she darted toward a trash can, jostling a couple as she pushed past them. She stood over the receptacle, her face ashy, skin becoming clammy, a tremor to the nerves in her extremities. She grabbed the edges of the can, bending to minimize the danger to those around her. She closed her eyes, certain of what was coming, afraid she couldn't control it anymore.


Then she burped.


She stood still for a moment. The noise of the streets seemed to approach her, as if even they had retreated from her threat. She waited, her fingers still grasping the metal edge of the can, muscles in her arms trembling. Then, the trembling stopped. Her breathing relaxed. She smiled weakly. It hadn't happened. This time.


She straightened slowly, letting the blood return to her head, letting the dizziness subside. Her black leather trench coat, companion and emotional armor since the night she took it off Talon's body, now felt heavy, greasy, as if it retained the sins she had committed in its fabric. It didn't cover anything anymore; it was just dead. She shrugged out of it, careful to remove the shoulder rigs as well. It all went in the trash can. “Let a wino find it, I don't give a damn anymore,” she muttered.


She stared down at the garment for a moment, slowly becoming aware of its partner on her head. If the trench coat was her armor, the duster on her head had been her helm. It had hid her face from dozens of security cameras and eyewitnesses. Now it just made her hair itch. She reached up and yanked it from her head, shoving it down in the can along with the coat. She reached up with both hands, running her fingers through tangled hair, massaging her scalp. The night air began to seep through the thin newly exposed shirt she was wearing. It felt like being reborn.


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

A neon sign advertising a bar named “Mac's” shone down over the street as Jill stopped to double check the address of the motel she had booked for the night. She studied it carefully, looking to the nearest corner to confirm she was on the right street. Her gazing about was interrupted by the horizontal flight of a man, groaning as he sailed past her from the front door of the bar. He crashed to the asphalt, and began to stir. A small figure darted by her, stopping next to the man's head. A ponytail flopped as the figure jerked its head toward the man's, and the man screamed as he grasped his head with his hands. The figure took a step back, and launched a vicious kick into the man's ribs. The man screamed again, and curled into a ball protectively.


Stunned by the sight, Jill spoke to the short female, sure it was a child. “Are you okay ?”, she asked, a sweetness to her voice. The female stopped, muttering “Yeah. But he's not !”. Then she kicked the prone man again, her body moving to put more force behind the kick. Jill stopped slightly to the shorter female, who turned suddenly, revealing a bigger-than-average bust line for her size. This wasn't a girl, it was a short woman. The face that glared up at her would indicate pissed-off short woman.


The woman blew absently at a lock of hair dangling over her face. “And just what the hell do you need ?”, she growled. Jill was stunned at the fury of the woman's attack, left speechless. The woman glared up at Jill for along moment, then her face softened in realization. “Oh ****...”, she began, putting her hand to her lips, a small gasp escaping from behind, “You're hear to see Michael Hunter, aren't ya ?” Jill grinned, self-conscious at the mention of Hunter's name, and nodded. “That's his place...the Hunter Institute,” the small woman began, pointing at a multistory building in the distance. “He might still be up. They say they all live there, him and the others.”


Jill bit her lip, refusing to act like a schoolgirl with a crush. “Mike !,” she thought, gazing off at the building. She looked down at her rumpled clothing, ran fingers through her tousled hair. “I can't see him like this... it'll wait until tomorrow. But thank you !”, she smiled. The short woman did not smile back. She looked up at Jill, her blue eyes looking saddened somehow. “Honey, when you do go see him... for the love of God, please be careful.” She turned and walked back into the bar, leaving Jill alone in the street.

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


The little black dress hung neatly on a hanger. She would wear it when she saw him again for the first time; she wanted no hint of her past to cling to her, she would wear a dress, not mens clothing. She wanted to be Jillian again, letting “Jill” sink to a forgotten shame like the pistols had sunk into the bay. She brushed her hair, enjoying how it billowed out to frame her face. Then she saw it. Them, actually.


She had forgotten to shave her armpits.


Arms over her head, she frowned at her reflection. Some would call the detail stupid. After months apart, surely Hunter wouldn't care about some stubble. “But I would”, she thought. She strode back to the bathroom, wetting the razor she had used on her legs as she stood in front of the small mirror. She drew the razor across the skin, each hair falling away like a day on the road here, each stroke cutting away the memories of who she didn't want to be anymore. Finally, it was done. She smiled, and touched the tender skin.


Jill was Jillian again.

New TOTHI is up, and while this one is long, the next will be shorter.

(Insert "That's what she said" joke here. I know you people !)

Thanks again to my Muse, whom I hope I made mad as promised

The life of the woman the media had named “Killer Jill” was ending as it had began; with butterflies in her stomach, and Michael Hunter in her thoughts. What could have happened had he not been such a unfeeling sonuvabitch that night she bared her heart to him, only for him to coldly refuse to hold it safely, even for a moment ?


In the gray-green dark of the motel room she smiled tiredly as she remembered the words that sent her emotions and hopes soaring into the night sky as their “Not A Date” was coming to an end.


“I need someone in my life”




Her dreams inhabited that moment. Everything she thought she had ever wanted came to pass in that second. She had never been happier, never had a moment seemed so surreal, Until he finished the thought...


”But not you, Jill.


He had created her that night; in that selfish, thoughtless moment, Dr. Jillian McKenna had died a sudden and needless death. His words had torn her guts from her as surely as a point-blank shotgun blast, and were less compassionate that the gun would have been. He retreated a coward in her eyes, and it was because of him she decided on a “rebound date” with the industrialist Matthew Talon.


Talon didn't kill her, he just finished what Hunter had started.


She remembered the terror when she realized she had been violated, then left to die in a Talon Industries warehouse full of toxic waste and fumes. She remembered the blackness as she closed her eyes for what seemed the last time, and the overwhelming shock as she took her first breath with mutated lungs.


“I am she who liveth, who liveth and was dead”, she mused softly to herself.


Armed robbery was an accidental career birthed when her vengeance had left her alone on a dock in the glow of a burning warehouse, Talon and his goons dead by the very poison they had so eagerly produced. Weeping, she donned the clothing that would become her signature look on dozens of bank security cameras; the wide brim hat and the duster, the black shirt and pants. So...unfemale. And the guns.


Sitting on the edge of the hotel bed, she could feel the pistols sitting in their rigs, hanging yet clinging to her ribcage, phallic and breast-like at the same time. It was a comfort they hadn't been fired much.


But she had fired them.


People had died at her hand.


And it sickened her. Didn't used to, back when her humanity was freshly dead. But as her body coped with the forced mutation of the toxins, they became less demanding, less all-enveloping of the mind that used to be that of a trained medical examiner. The analyzer of the death has become the producer of it. Now, the psycho-physiological pendulum was swinging back, and Jillian was emerging from the dark shroud of her chemical alter-ego.


So, it was time to give that heartless ******* another chance at being a man for a change.


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


She held the envelopes in both hands, like they contained something very rare and valuable. In a way, they did. Each was labeled with a name. Each contained a sheet of paper containing bank account information; each member of her “crew” was now a millionaire. Jill had already secreted away her share in anticipation of this day, the day when the danger wasn't sexy anymore, when the siren call of a quiet June Cleaver life would become too much, and she would want to quit.


Tonight was the night it ended. She had turned her guys loose once they reached Sharkhead, calling them back together once she had made final “business dealings” to reward their loyalty. And they had been loyal. The smartassed brawler Mr. Block... the egotistical, uzi-toting, Gruber and Dieter. And the poor “three stooges”, Billy, Ted...and Bug. They had all been valuable in their own ways, and now it was time for her to show it. Maybe for the last time.


“Boys... time for this party train to park for good. This is where we hang it up, and we go our own ways. We've had a good run, but we need to quit while we can. “ She paused, frowning as she leaned forward to the small group. “I remember body bags. What they carried. I don't want to see any of you in one. So, being a good employer with good employees... I've managed to secure two things for your severance package.” She waved the envelopes, a weak smile on her face as she handed them out.


“Each of you is rich. If you choose to never so much as jaywalk again, you can retire to law-abiding goodness, and enjoy what we've suffered for.” “However...”, she began, looking at Block and the “gun twins”, “Should you choose to make a lateral move, I've also secured a letter of introduction to a group called Arachnos. I understand they're pretty much the one game in town for what we do...or did.”




She looked into the face of her dim-witted arsonist, Bug. She leaned toward him, smiled softly and stroked his cheek.“Bug, honey, please stay with Billy and Ted.” Her eyes began to well up as she studied his simple stare. “You have been injured more than a body should, all because you have a crush on me. That is more than any girl deserves, and I really don't want to see you hurt anymore.” She looked intently at the other two. “If anything happens to him... I will find you, and I will kill you. Enough is enough. You three can survive together. Do it !” She bit her lip to hide her pain and worry in sending the trio out from under her protective wing.


She stood, picking up a shoulder bag containing a black dress and heels she had bought in the last town they pulled a job in. “Boys... time to go. Group hug for the road.” She embraced each man, biting her lip again as she hugged Bug.


Then she took her first step toward her new life.




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


She hugged the duster to her; the spray from the waters on the bay was starting to chill her. She had bought a ticket to some place called Peregrine, and boarded the ferry with the crowd. Glancing discreetly around, she noticed she didn't look out of place. No one seemed to be looking her way, no one seemed to care she was there. Which was good for the next thing she needed to do.


Slipping down to the railing, she looked around again, habits dying hard, but also needed to ensure no one saw her. Left...right... she even looked straight up. No one in sight.


Usually, when she performed this motion, it was almost a blur. It had been a survival skill then, now it would just be suspicious. Her hands slid into the duster, and smoothly pulled out the heavy pistols.


The moonlight and spray gave the pistols a sheen. Jill smiled bitterly as she watched the light dance on them.


“Won't need you anymore,” she half-whispered, and released her grip.


The pistols fell quickly, disappearing into the wake of the boat. Jill looked around again, smiling as she still saw no one. The empty rigs rose under the long coat, mirroring a load gone from her heart. She look at her hands, and vowed they would never again cause death. She was now defenseless in an uncertain world, but she felt safe for the first time in a long while.


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

The pistols waggled their way to the silt in the bottom of the bay. Something stopped to examine them. The same something that saw Jill drop them. It grinned.

Oh...hai !

Turns out, I write on occasion... who knew ?

Especially since I haven't posted in two months

Anyway... new TOTHI is up Hope ya like it !

Max watched the monitor as the white dots whirled about, a constant data stream moving down the right side of the screen. The figure onscreen was a short squat assembly, seemingly comprised of glowing ping pong balls. It was dancing jerkily; a barely discernible smile crossed Max's face as he looked up to the figure in the motion capture suit at the center of a large square on the lab's floor.


“That's good, Robbie”, he spoke, his voice carrying easily to the man. A pair of blue eyes squinted through a slot in a black mask on the man's face. “I legtric nijja !”, a happy voice spoke, muffled slightly behind the fabric. Spider Silk giggled from the chair beside Max. She and her boyfriend, Junk Chunker, were assisting Max in gathering measurements for the Smart Armor that would be painstakingly fitted to Robbie's movements. They had uncovered the disabled man's blindingly fast reflexes by accident while the trio were watching a Bruce Lee movie one night; a similar movie would provide the next round of data.


“Junk, couldja grab that Kung Fu flick ? We're gonna need it for this”, Max called across to Junk. The hulking young man scowled at the scientist, mainly because of Spider's proximity to him. He stomped over to a shelf on one wall of the room, snatching up a DVD in one paw-like hand. He looked back to the table where the electronics were set up, and grinned bitterly. Max wasn't looking up... this would be good. He turned his hand, as if to skip the video like a stone across the room, then threw it. Except it disappeared.


His command of his power wasn't perfect, but it was plenty good to make the movie suddenly appear on Max's keyboard. Max grinned, but did not look up as he moved the case. “Gravity control, I'm guessing. You can make a short-distance wormhole.” He paused for effect, then looked up at Junk Chunker. “Limited to line of sight.” The measured rebuff worked as intended; Spider got mad.


“JUNK ! WHY YOU GOTTA BE SUCH A DICK ?! HE JUST WANTED THE DAMN MOVIE ! WHY'D YOU HAVE TO SHOW YOUR *** LIKE THAT ?!” The skinny girl leapt from her chair, crossing the room quickly, stopping only after purposely colliding with Junk's chest. “We...are...helping...ROBBIE ! We...are...helping...DOC HUNTER ! “, she scowled, her brown eyes flashing at him. He looked down at the waif-like Spider, and was immediately cowed by her glare. He started to smile shyly, trying to appease her. 'DON'T BE A DICK !!”, she blurted suddenly, jabbing a slender finger sharply in his thick chest. She turned on her heel, fuming as she went noisily back to the table.


Max looked purposely down at his keyboard, hiding his grin. He hadn't meant for the big man to be chastised, but the effect was fully intended. Junk's expression showed he would be co-operative now, and his help would become very valuable in the next phase. Max knew things about the man whose street name was Junk Chunker, and knew that if he was truly angry, he was well capable of much worse than chest-beating over his tiny girlfriend. He respected the youth for his passion, but without his “tools” in arm's reach, Max would be near defenseless if Junk really lost his temper.


He was thankful for the tiny beauty that controlled her beast with a mere word of disapproval.




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

The movie ended, and Junk moved to Robbie's side to make sure he had quit moving before Spider could come close enough to help Robbie out of the spandex and wiring that was the “legtric nijja suit”. The shorter man looked up at “Jukk” and smiled. “I not kick you, Jukk.” Junk folded thick arms and smiled back “I appreciate that, Rob... don't think I don't .” Spider giggled, and stood to help Robbie.
Max played back the data capture, staring intently for several minutes before straightening up and standing for the first time in hours. “Got what we need,” he smiled tiredly. “You three get gone... I have some old friends to talk with, and they like their privacy. A lot. ”


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


“I'm sorry,” Max growled, his voice climbing in volume as his frustration grew. “I was never made aware that you had lost your balls ? Do you miss them much ? Who was the vet, because I think they might hook you up with some fake ones if we ask.. BECAUSE YOU SURE AS HELL NEED TO SACK UP !” Max bit down on his cigarette, his lips meeting as they crushed the filter. “You, really, REALLY piss me off,” he grumbled into the earpiece, blowing smoke forcefully into the empty room. “You know... I think it's very fortunate that I'm no longer a player in our little game. You can easily do what I need, and yet you give me **** about it. In ye old days..” he mused, letting the words drop. He smiled as the voice on the other end began to speak carefully. “Yes... I already sent the specs,” Max replied, smiling as the other party suddenly became much more co-operative.” That will be fine. Just don't **** this up, it's very important the item is EXACT. Yes, I'm sure you will. I'll be waiting on the package.”


Max pressed a button on the earpiece, and resisted the urge to pitch it forcefully at the nearest wall. Fortunately for the earpiece, that was the last “business call” that Max would make this evening. Now it was just a matter of waiting. He walked to the thick steel door that was the only entry to the lab, and punched a series of buttons. The door hissed open, and Max entered the hallway. He padded to Hunter's office, knocking politely as he opened the door. The new secretary was still at her desk, with no sign of Hunter. Max sighed, but decided to leave a message with the woman anyway. “I'm expecting a series of packages. Please let Doctor Hunter know the project is still on schedule.


Max swore he saw a sinister-appearing grin cross the woman's face as she looked up; he dismissed it to his fatigue, and just generally being pissed off.


“I most certainly will.”, she replied, smiling sweetly.


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


Eight times during the night, Junk Chunker rose from his bed, plodding to the front door of the clinic to accept “an urgent delivery for...Max.” Each courier was confronted by what appeared to be a oversized, brawny child, due to Junk's penchant for comic-themed pajamas and gorilla slippers. He extended a one-fingered salute to the last one of the night, slamming the door with one hand, then picking up a steel-clad box. “This **** better be great, because this Jeeves stuff is getting old” he mumbled as he climbed the stairs for the last time that night.


He entered the room he shared with Spider, trying not to wake her as he set down the box. It clunked against the others, and he winced, afraid he had woke her. A surprisingly husky voice came out of the darkness. “Last one ?”, it asked, almost purring. “Yeah...”, he rumbled softly, glad she didn't seem mad. “Good, “ the voice replied, followed by the sound of a small hand patting a mattress. “My turn to get you up.”

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




Max finished adjusting the faceplate of Robbie's helmet. There were several designs for this part, he had chosen the goggled one until he could be sure Robbie would cope well with the armor. He needn't have been concerned; between Robbie's enthusiasm and the expertise of his “associates” only his veiled threats could have produced, the armor and Robbie worked together without noticeable fault. Spider walked slowly around the room with Robbie as he got used to the armor's heft, while Max and Junk watched telemetry on a screen. Occasionally, Max would jump up from his chair, producing some odd tool and adjusting a spot on the armor. He would grumble, returning to his chair while waving his hand impatiently for Spider to continue the walk around the room. Finally, muttering something unintelligible- except for the phrase “sonsabitches”- he raised a hand to stop the pair from their promenade.


“Now,” he grinned, “Lemme show you what this thing can do.”




He went to a spot at the foot of the square previously used for the motion capture. “Junk... need you to stand here.” He looked over at the big man “This is where you're gonna get to show off as well. I really need you to concentrate for this part.” Junk smiled crookedly, and moved to the spot. “Spider...” Max began, then paused “Nothing is going to go wrong, just remember that. Some of this won't make sense. I know you and Robbie are very good friends... I'm not going to let him get hurt either. Little guy is quickly growing on me.” Spider smiled, a bit nervous, and nodded silently.

Robbie's excitement was showing as he took small steps back and forth in the middle of the square. “And...Robbie is ready,” Max laughed softly. He strode back to the table laden with electronics. He pressed a series of buttons, and the suit seemed to jump to life. Robbie looked back to Spider, a scared look beginning to cross his face. Max flashed an “okay” sign to her, and she took a relieved breath. “Robbie... do you wanna be a super hero ?” she asked, her voice halting at times. “Zooperheero”, he replied, a smile appearing through the worried frown.


Max had briefly explained to Spider and Junk how the armor worked. It could be remotely controlled to perform various combat maneuvers, but it would also learn from Robbie's movements, and would eventually be controlled by Robbie's ability. In short, the armor would teach Robbie's body how to fight at the blinding speeds it was capable of. Even though she had retained all of this, the sight of the armor springing to life had scared Spider, and she tried to hide it from Robbie. She smiled at him, and he had smiled back. She held up a thumbs up to Max.


Max said firmly. “Junk... I know you can pull objects from...nowhere and throw them at a target. It's your turn to trust me. Picture something small in your mind... and throw it at Robbie.” Junk paused; “How the hell does this guy know so much about me ?' his inner voice growled. He decided to throw wide of Robbie, just in case. He moved his hands, and a computer printer flew from a spot just in front of them. He sent it flying, missing Robbie by six feet.


Robbie stood in the square, puzzled. The armor hadn't flinched. Max had anticipated Junk's reluctance, and was not angry. “It's not a dog catching a frisbee...it won't play fetch, Junk”, he smiled. “In fact, it really won't do much of anything unless Robbie is threatened. Now... at Robbie this time.”




Junk thought for a moment. He pictured a bar stool, and shot it toward Robbie. In one fluid motion, the suit rocked back on one foot, bracing as the other leg arced gracefully up. Robbie's foot hooked to one side, and the bar stool became splinters.


Spider clapped enthusiastically. Max smiled. Junk laughed nervously. “I was concerned...” Junk began.”Understandable,” Max interrupted, waving a hand. “Something faster now, maybe a little meaner.” Junk nodded, and shot a computer printer from his hands. Robbie caught it squarely with the bottom of one foot, the printer shattering. He laughed. “Zooperheeero..” he giggled.


“Junk... Spider...Robbie's not scared, so you shouldn't be. Remember that.” Max spoke softly. “Junk...something bigger. The suit will take it.” Junk nodded, and gestured with his hands. A cement bust went sailing at Robbie, the suit intercepting and destroying it. Dust flew over the mat, and Robbie coughed. Spider looked concerned, and began to get up to help him.


“Rob...spit !”, Junk barked, concern in his voice. Robbie stopped coughing long enough to make loud throat noises, then spit a gray glob to the mat. Spider glared at Junk, then slowly smiled. The big man looked down at his feet “We been working on that,” Junk smiled self-consciously. Spider smiled back, and sat down again.


Max smiled briefly. “Junk.. something really big now. Trust me on this.” Junk looked to his girlfriend, who nodded as she smiled. “It'll be okay, hon. Go for it.” Max looked at Junk; he knew what the mutant could produce from seemingly nowhere, and hoped Junk would think big.


He did. From over Junk's head, a wrecked car body appeared, and headed down toward Robbie. The suit leaped up, shooting a foot out at the soaring hunk of metal, and making solid contact. The car slammed to the ground, shaking the room. Robbie continued to sail, reaching the ceiling before he somersaulted, landing with a thunk on the car, feet down.


“As advertised,” Max grinned.


“Zooperhero !,” Robbie laughed.