"Laddie," DrunkenPunch replied softly, "I would suggest that it is in your own health's interest to be moving along right about now - we've got things under control here..." As he spoke, a massive, four foot long spine slid from DrunkenPunch's forearm to rest on the ground at the security goon's feet.
"Sir, I'm afraid I don't fall for this "superhero" shock-and-awe routine - I really must insist that you move along - your friend here is contagious and needs to be quarantined." It was then that Hipshot noticed the crowds in the subway station had mysteriously disappeared - replaced by the sound of marching boots coming into the plaza. A troop of twenty security officers came up the stairs - none of whom were carrying movealongs, but rather nasty looking shotguns and automatic rifles.
This did not go over well with DrunkenPunch, who stood up slowly, looking around him. "Well, laddies, it would seem that this isn't going to be a fair fight, now, is it? " As he looked around, not only did another massive spine slide forward from it's sheath on DrunkenPunch's other arm, but hundreds of other spines started poking through various points on his body.
"Sir, I'm sorry if you feel that you're being outnumbered, but public safety really is our first concern - now if you'll just come with me..." The security goon was looking cocky, even behind his re breather mask.
"Sonny, I was referring to this fight being grossly unfair to you... I really, really think you and your friends should move along..." DrunkenPunch's eyes were normally a shade of red, which was intimidating enough, but now they were beginning not only to glow, but to emit an unholy smoke-like substance from them. Hipshot knew that this was a part of Drunken's natural powers that enabled him to see on a predictive quantum level - His vision actually showed him where his opponents would most likely be in the next few seconds, which accounted for his eerie accuracy in battle. If that wasn't enough to make the security goon think twice, however, there were two, other, not-so-subtle changes happening to DrunkenPunch; The spines that were protruding from his body began to excrete a greenish liquid that popped and hissed as it dripped from the spines and onto the floor. Hipshot knew from fighting with his friend that not only was the spine poison incredibly toxic, but acidic, too, which accounted for even robotic foes not being immune to it's effects.
As the security guard with the re breather checked over his shoulder to ensure his backup squad was in place, he whipped his head around as he felt something smack against his chest armour; Embedded in the belly plate was a small, smoking spine, hissing away as it ate a larger hole into his armour. The guard slapped the spine away and took a step back, turning to yell to his comrades "That's it! Take em d..."
Hipshot looked over at the goon, who, in addition to having stopped talking, appeared to have started floating in mid-air, along with all of his compatriots. Hipshot rubbed his eyes, thinking the Vahzlok disease must be affecting his eyesight, as well, since it looked like each and every member of the security squad was surrounded my radiating... distortions.. was the only term he could think of.
"I think that this little scenario has gone on long enough, don't you, fellas?" - A familiar voice asked from behind them. Hipshot whipped his head around to see Sister of Peace walking from the stopped subway behind her.
"How on Earth did you do that?" Asked Hipshot
DrunkenPunch turned his head slowly, still keeping an eye on the goons, spines beginning to fly out of his body at an increasing speed and density.
"First off, I think we'd better get ol' DrunkenPunch to come out of his battle rage - we don't need to be seen on the six o'clock news as beating up a bunch of rent-a-cops... As to your question, the solution didn't come from Earth at all, so your question was a little off..."
Sister of Peace stepped aside to reveal one of the most stunningly beautiful females Hipshot had ever seen.
"Allow me to introduce you to a friend of mine... Demon Concubine, this is ... the Crew". Sister of Peace said, watching with wry amusement as Hipshot tried, fruitlessly, to make himself look less revolting than he currently was.
Walking forward, with one arm extended towards the security goons, was a woman dressed all in red, or at least, that was how it appeared at first glance. As she approached DrunkenPunch and Hipshot, however, they noticed that her red outfit was actually a chitinous armour that appeared to be a part of her body. As Hipshot looked into her eyes, he was somewhat startled to see two small, dusky-red horns protruding from bone-white hair. He was still fumbling for words when he noticed a slender whip-cord tail, tipped with a nasty-looking barb waving lazily behind her, like a cat about to pounce.
"Indeed, gentlemen, I hear we are together to snuff out some Vahzlok scum, not a bunch of boys who think they're tough, just because of a pretty uniform" Purred DemonConcubine in a low, husky voice.
Sister of Peace, a striking woman at nearly seven feet tall in a white and blue ice-fire body suit, walked thoughtfully over to the lead goon, who was still suspended in mid-air, eyes wide as saucers at her approach.
"My, my", chuckled Sister of Peace, "It is amazing how people will act when given some pop guns and what they think is body armour... Tell me, my little caged bird, why are you bothering my friends ?" The security guard tried to shake his head in answer to her question, but DemonConcubine's control over the gravity field about him was absolute.
"I suppose I could let that one go so we could... question... him... more thoroughly", DemonConcubine suggested in a tone that created visions of much more than a series of polite questions in the officer's mind.
"Och! Hang on a sec, there, lassie!", DrunkenPunch, who's spines had retracted into his body, meandered over to the helpless security guard to put himself face-to-face with the man. DrunkenPunch up close was not easily dismissed, either; Aside from the glowing red eyes and a full, flowing white beard, a great set of curling ram's horns sprouted from each side of his skull. "I have a feeling this little laddie can tell us a few things even without his voice..." As he spoke, a single spine slid forth again, to rest just below the terrified guard's Adam's apple.
"Drunken..." warned Sister of Peace.
"Don't worry, my bonnie peace-loving friend, I shouldn't hurt him... too much.".
Hipshot was still looking towards DemonConcubine when he noticed a look of... hunger... in her face at what appeared to be a helpless victim subject to some not-so-tender ministrations of the Crew. Suddenly, Hipshot wasn't as disappointed in not being date-ready.
As DrunkenPunch leaned towards the security guard a little, a rather large, single drop of the spine toxin appeared at the very tip of his right forearm spine and hung, suspended, centimeters from the guard's throat.
Hipshot noticed, with little surprise, a spreading stain upon the guard's pants.
"Drunken, I really don't think we should..." Sister of Peace said, a little more forcefully.
Drunken merely winked at her and send a fragment of concentration towards the toxin glands within his forearm spine. The glistening drop of acidic poison swelled for a second and then dropped from the tip of his spine, missing the guard's throat by millimeters and running down the very center of his body armour.
The suspended guard's eyes rolled back into his head and shut as he lost consciousness while the smoke from his rapidly dissolving armour wafted up around his head.
"Now, let's see what this bonnie lad has to say to us!" Drunken proclaimed as his spine retracted and he ripped the guard's armour open from neck to groin, along the newly melted seam created by the spine toxin.
"Och! No surprise here, lads and lassies!" DrunkenPunch stepped back, so they could all see the logo on the coveralls beneath the armour.
"Crey Industries!" Gasped Hipshot "You were right, Sister, but what the heck is this ? Actively trying to kidnap us from the streets? What gives ?"
"I don't know, Hip, but I have a funny feeling that there is a connection between your encounter with the Vahzlok and Crey - what it is, though, I don't know yet. Demon, how long can you hold them like this ?" asked Sister of Peace.
"Oh, I could hold them quite a while. Better yet, I could open a worm-hole and deposit them several thousand feet in the air, which I think might be a better solution..." She had a ... demonic... grin on her face.
"No, I think that's a little harsh - none of these guys look bright enough to actually be capable of more than following orders for a paltry paycheque." Sister of Peace looked around and saw a steel door. Walking over to it, she confirmed that it was locked. She came back to the group of suspended goons and removed all of their weapons, grenades and combat webbing. "Can you wormhole them into that storage room ?" she asked.
"Sure, though I still think several thousand feet up would be better..." as she spoke, a twisting, howling deformation of reality appeared in the air amidst the security goons. "Stand back, ladies and gentlemen, this isn't a mode of transport I'd recommend...". As Drunken and Sister of Peace backed away, the suspended security guards began floating towards the wormhole, sucked in by it's irresistible force. One by one, they were hurled through the space-time distortion and crashes could be heard behind the steel door.
"Well," said Sister of Peace "That's that! I suppose we really should be on our way - No offense, Hipshot, but you really stink!"
Here's my first foray into fan-fic, but by no means my first foray into fiction itself
Hope you enjoy Part I (Broken into 3 posts to meet the 1000 word restriction)
Hipshot staggered out of the office complex, his Multi Configurable Weapon dragging on the ground behind him. Swatting at the cloud of flies surrounding him, he groped for his comm within his once pristine red sports jacket;
"Sister! I need your help", he coughed into the receiver
"We are sorry, the Sister of Peace is not currently accepting live comm transmissions, please leave..."
"Can it, AI, override alpha-alpha-horseshoe-charlie!", Hipshot snapped into the comm, nearly gagging at the fumes radiating from his own body.
"Hipshot! What's wrong?" Sister's light contralto came through the comm, having been connected immediately upon her own AI's receipt of the supergroup urgent override code.
"Sister, I need your help, badly - I was cleaning out a Vahzlok operation but I got a little careless - A few too many of Abominations puked on me and..." Hipshot trailed off.
"Oh no! Let me guess: The Vahzlok wasting disease!" gasped Sister of Peace.
"Yep, it's gotta be it - Can you help ? You're a healer and the stench, not to mention the flies and debilitating effects are... annoying.. to say the least".
"Geez, Hipshot, no, I can't - My powers accelerate the body's own healing mechanisms by speeding up metabolism and cell growth in very localized areas of the body, but this disease is bone-deep, literally; You've got to get in touch with someone from Crey Industries... Have you spoken to the contact that put you on the trail of this last Vahzlok enclave?" Asked Sister of Peace.
"No, not yet - I was hoping for a quick fix - I'm not exactly fit for being in the presence of others..." replied Hipshot. "Hang on, then, I'll patch the contact in on this line. "
A few minutes later, they had learned that there was indeed a cure for the Vahzlok disease, but the closest source happened to be another Vahzlok operation - Going to Crey Industries was out of the question at the moment - Crey was, apparently, infested with Council operatives and Hipshot's contact suggested that Paragon heroes submitting to Crey might not survive the process...
"Ok," said Hipshot, after the conference with his contact, "I think I'm going to need some help on this, Sister; My body's rebelling right now - I can't aim as quickly as I used to and I find that even reloading my MCW is taking longer with all these flies actually getting into the chamber of the rifle - Can you help an old friend ?"
"Hip, you know that you didn't even have to ask - but, I think we're going to need backup on this one - The area of Steel Canyon that your contact suggested the scientists with the cure are being held hostage is notoriously nasty - we aren't talking about your typical street punks or even Vahzlok street scavengers - I think we should give DrunkenPunch a call." suggested Sister.
"You're right he'll help make quick work of some of the nasties, but I'm worried about 'population control', as you might put it - I know you're pretty good with that nifty Ice Block trick, but even in this last operation, I had to use a lot of grenades, just to thin out the crowds - rushing was a big problem and contributed no small part in my being infected... Can you think of anyone who can help in that arena ? " Hipshot asked.
The comm unit was silent a moment as Sister of Peace went over a mental checklist of possible additions to the team. "You know, I think I've got just the person, though this new team mate is relatively new not only to Paragon City, but to this very dimension..."
"Oh come on, don't leave me in suspense with an introduction like that - what's his name?"
"Her name, you sexist!", retorted Sister, the impish grin audible in her voice, "Tell you what, I've got to get a few things together, but I'll meet you and the others at the Steel Canyon subway station and I'll bring along our new friend"
"Hey! Waitaminute! You've got to tell me her name, at least - Is she single ?", but Hipshot was speaking to dead air.
"What am I thinking ? I've got clouds of green vapour hanging around my whole body and enough flies to feed every single frog in every swamp on the continent buzzing around my head - I don't think I'll be getting a date out of this mission..." muttered Hipshot as he strapped his MCW to his back and trudged towards his apartment to restock his pouches with grenades and other toys that might come in handy.
* * *
Hipshot sat alone on a bench, facing the off-load ramp of the Steel Canyon subway - A ten meter circle was clear of people all around him - no small feat, given it was the middle of rush hour.
"Ho ho, laddie! Look at the mess you've gotten yourself int... Whoa, laddie! You STINK!"
Hipshot looked up at the only possible source of that comment as a six-foot-five humanoid passed through the crowd - DrunkenPunch. The best way to describe his long-term friend was to mix equal parts Satan with equal parts Santa Clause and you'd have an approximate description of the indomitable scrapper.
"Hey Drunken, thanks for stating the blindingly obvious..." quipped Hipshot, though a smile of appreciation was in his eyes as DrunkenPunch sat easily beside him, ignoring the obvious affliction of his friend.
"Och, laddie, we'll have you fixed up in no time, though probably not soon enough to fix first impressions on our Sister of Peace's new friend - I hear she's quite the lassie to be looking at!"
"Indeed," sighed Hipshot, "but I think I'd rather miss out on a hot date than have to suffer through this zombie disease any longer..." Hipshot replied, as a security guard with full re breather apparatus covering his mouth and nose approached the duo.
"Excuse me, sir, but I'm going to have to ask you to remove yourself to the nearest disease control centre, in the interests of public health..." stated the security goon, who was tapping an electrified movealong in one hand, carefully avoiding the 100,000 volt tip.