(("B is for Balrogs having brunch at Bag-End."
Awesome. 
))
The Cobalt Claymore and Hephaestus 1 sat at Heph's kitchen table in his apartment. An old ammunition can for a 20mm cannon sat in front of them, covered in both shrinkwrap and a vacuum seal. The younger hero couldn't stop staring at it. Heph scratched at his faceplate, a psychological habit from before his full-body conversion, and took a sip of coffee.
"So," Heph said.
"It's right where Dad said it would be," the Cobalt Claymore said. "I guess I wasn't hallucinating."
"If Doc Rutherford said it wasn't a hallucination, I'd believe him. He should know the difference, being a psychiatrist and a former bodyguard for mages and such," Heph said. The big blue cyborg put a boxcutter in front of his teammate. "Considering that chopper you usually use, a box cutter should be easy, right?"
"Yeah," the Cobalt Claymore said. "It should be no effort at all."
They both sat and stared at the sealed box for a few more seconds.
"Man, you can barely tell that it's green underneath all that shrinkwrap, huh?" the Cobalt Claymore asked.
"Yeah," Heph replied. "So, are you going to open it or not?"
"Part of me wants to open it, part of me doesn't."
"What, are you afraid it's trapped or something?" Heph asked.
"No," the Cobalt Claymore said, "I'm just afraid of having the truth confirmed by what's in the box. I know that Dad was a Gunslinger before I was born. Mom told me that much when she and her ninjariffic goons grabbed me at Dartmouth."
"What's there to be afraid of, then, if you know about your old man's past? It doesn't change things of when he went legit and became a hero, does it? Your dad was a good guy right up until the end, and he gave me what pointers he could about being a good detective. It helped me out of a lot of investigative dead ends."
"Well, if you knew your dad was a nearly-sociopathic killer before he had kids, would you consider further proof to be a necessary confirmation or would it kill the image you have of your father?" the Cobalt Claymore asked.
"Todd, this is your family you're talking about. You're the one who built up this image of your old man being some kind of saint. Yes, he was nice to old ladies and kittens, but he was also a very ruthless hunter when it came to tracking down criminals. I see a lot of that in you as well. You're just like him when you're chasing down guys like Faculus the Death Mage and Arachnos mopes like those Bane Spider Scouts."
"Really? I'm like him?" the Cobalt Claymore asked.
"I didn't say that was a good thing. When your old man was under the cowl, the same one you wear today, a lot of the cops and other heroes hated his methods. He'd leave some criminals so scared they'd go into cardiac arrest when we arrived. One time he even hamstrung a serial mugger with that sword of his. He left that poor chump on the local precinct doorstep with a note basically saying 'Now maybe you can catch this guy.' For all the difference he taught you between right and wrong, he didn't let that get in the way of efficiency." Heph took another sip of coffee. "He made himself look worse than he was, at least some of the time."
"He wasn't like that at all," the Cobalt Claymore said reflexively. "The Cobalt Claymore has always been about bringing people to justice under the law. That's regardless of whether it was me or my dad wearing the costume."
Heph put his coffee mug down and picked up the boxcutter. "Maybe you need to wait to open this box, then. You've got serious daddy issues if you can't see this objectively. Yes, he wanted to make sure you stayed on the side of angels and that's good. So, he took the 'do as I say, not as I do' approach. I don't think you ever noticed just what it was that he did."
The Cobalt Claymore looked down towards the table, his finger tracing a pattern on the retro-style tabletop. "That guy deserved it."
"What?" Heph blurted out.
"That guy that Dad crippled, he wasn't just a serial mugger."
"Well, that's all we had on him at the time."
"He was a serial rapist as well. How many women came forward after he was left on the precinct steps, Mick? Thirty? Forty?"
"Your dad led us right to the photos the guy took of his victims," Heph said, "but leaving a guy crippled like that was wrong."
"That wasn't Dad's decision. Leaving the guy where he couldn't run away was mine. Dad wanted to kill him and stick his head on a fencepost." The Cobalt Claymore rubbed under his glasses. "We caught him before he could finish mugging that lady. Dad said to kill him. I said to leave him for you guys, and make sure he couldn't stalk anyone again."
Heph leaned back on his oversized kitchen chair. "If you know how bad he was, how is opening that box going to change anything?"
"I hate remembering that part of him, Mick," the Cobalt Claymore said. "My dad was a hero, even if his methods weren't always clean. I want to remember the good stuff, all right?"
"You're only remembering half the case, then," Heph said. "You want to remember the guy who loved you and raised you to be a hero. You also have to remember the times when he chose to cross the line between being a proper vigilante and being the worst kind of vigilante as well."
"I don't want to remember that, Mick," the Cobalt Claymore said. "It makes him less of a hero."
"Todd, you're a college student, and if I remember right, you're trying to become a History professor, right?" Heph asked.
"Yeah," Todd said, still looking down at the table.
"Who's the guy you quoted about why you study history, Levy or something like that?" Heph asked.
"It's Livy, Mick," the younger hero said.
"Right, him. What was it he said? You used to say it all the time."
The Cobalt Claymore cleared his throat, wiped his eyes again. "There is great advantage to be derived from the study of history, that you see examples of every possible type placed in the light of historical truth. From these you may select for yourself and your country what to imitate, and also what, base in its inception and disastrous in its results, you must avoid." He knew it by heart in English and Latin, just like his father had drilled into his memory over and over again.
"You can't avoid the effects of bad things if you don't remember they are, Todd. We don't know what's in that box. Maybe it's good, maybe it's not. Either way, there's more evidence in there that you need to see. And once you see it, then you have a better picture of the whole truth, right? It's just like detective work."
The Cobalt Claymore looked at the near-mummified storage box. "Mick, give me the boxcutter."
Heph slid the cutter over to his young friend. "Good man," he said.
The vacuum sealed bag and the shrinkwrap popped and snapped as the razorblade sliced through them. A slight hiss could be heard as years of vacuum were filled with air. The Cobalt Claymore cut the ordnance tape that covered the ammo can's lid latch and popped it open. Inside was a series of vacuum-sealed bags full of letters, legal documents, and photographs. A DVD sat in a slimline case with the words "Watch This First" written on the label.
"Wow, Todd. Your old man was thorough. Everything's sealed up," Heph said.
"Or he had OCD, one of the two," the Cobalt Claymore said. This stuff could be anything. These two things, however, make it even more obvious."
With that he placed a dark blue boonie hat that had been curled on both sides like a cowboy hat as well as a dark blue balaclava and bandanna. A pair of holsters for Type 1 and Type 2 pistols also appeared out of the box, the black ballistic nylon faded to a deep charcoal gray. All the items inside had been well-used before it was placed in the box. Hidden inside the boonie hat was a small steel rosary with cobalt blue beads.
"I hope that DVD is still in good shape," the Cobalt Claymore said. "Dad's got a lot of explaining to do, even if it's done posthumously."
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
((jchinds, since Trouble Incorporated is based out of Kings Row, and one of my many alts (The Kings Row Rambler) is especially tied to the zone, I'm referencing a bit of your Row mythos here for consistency's sake... and because I like what you've done with it. If you'd rather I didn't, let me know.
I've decided to try to curb my raging alt-o-holism a bit, in the interest of actually being on one character long enough for people to recognize me. So for now, I'm mostly going to be playing Kitten America, Skylancer, and Miss Cherenkova. To that end, here's a bit of an intro piece for Kitten...))
The laminated paper card felt impossibly flimsy in her hand. It was hard to believe, thought, that it had survived the incident at all, much less come through it completely undamaged. Even so, there it was, the same as it had been before... when everything around her had changed. To look at it was almost to turn back time, to a more innocent day.
The dark-haired girl in the picture smiled back in the face of her stare, cheerfully oblivious to the chaos which had overtaken the world around her. There were times when Kitten almost envied that naivete, when she missed being able to look at the world without seeing the evil that lurked around every corner. Perhaps, as some said, ignorance truly was bliss.
No, she told herself. Ignorance is merely ignorance... and naivete was a dangerous characteristic in Paragon City. Still, there was a certain innocence about the girl in that picture that she wished she could have back.
Her gaze shifted to the writing beneath the picture. "Serina Willmore", it read, identifying that face to any who might gaze upon it. It had been her name before. Legally, it was still hers, and she still used it sometimes... but it felt almost alien to her now. Distant, as though it rightly belonged to another person.
In a way, that was because it did. Unlike her pefectly preserved SERAPH ID badge, Serina herself had not gone through the incident unchanged. When her experiment exploded, hundreds of glass shards had ripped through clothing and skin, and each fragment had been coated with small amounts of altered genetic material. SERAPH had wanted to know what Council super-solider serum would do to hero DNA; by the time they pulled her out of the rubble of the lab, she was a walking case study.
Since then, it didn't seem right to call herself Serina anymore. Serina was the girl in the picture; fair skin, dark hair, that irrepressible cheerful smile. Serina didn't have a cat's ears, or claws, or fangs, or a tail, and she definitely didn't have white fur and bright red tiger stripes from head to toe. Serina might have liked those things; she'd always loved heroes, after all, even the slightly strange ones. It was why she'd been studying metabiology. It was why she was working as a lab assistant at SERAPH.
Ultimately, it was how she'd become someone else.
It wasn't just the body... her mind was different, too. She thought quicker, acted more on instinct, chased down hunches as though they were fleeing prey. It was an apt comparison, as she did that, too. There was no mistaking the predatory instinct; she loved the hunt, and relished the fight. Hero work came naturally to her, as though she were born to it. She ran and jumped and felt the wind ripple through her fur, and she reveled in the sheer exhiliration of it all.
Serina hadn't been like that. Oh, she'd been friendly, bubbly even. She'd loved life with a passion, every bit as much as Kitten did now. She'd never been violent, though, and never much of a thrill-seeker. Serina was a girl that was afraid of roller-coasters, and would never have dreamed of jumping off a twenty-story building, or walking through the alleys of the Row at night.
No, she could hardly call herself Serina at all, no matter how much people told her the name suited her. It just wasn't her anymore.
She walked to the window, casting open the curtains to let the sun's brilliant light spill into her darkened apartment. That was something else she'd gained... an appreciation for certain small pleasures, be it a good stretch, a scratch behind the ears, or even just a warm sunbeam. She always insisted to anyone else that she was more girl than cat. To herself, privately, sometimes she wondered.
From the window, even with it closed, she could hear the sounds of mayhem. Back Yard Football, she'd heard they called it. She'd asked the Rambler about that once, since he'd lived in the Row all his life, and it seemed to be a local tradition; he'd just shaken his head and smiled. Still, it looked like they were having fun, and what was wrong with that? If a few Skulls got mauled along the way, they probably deserved it.
She could hear other sounds, too... downstairs, in the training room, Nanodrive was sparring with someone. Skye or Sky, probably, but it was hard to tell. The Row's old buildings were heavily built, and Ember had chosen the strongest one they could find to convert into a base. That she could hear anything happening two floors down at all was an artifact of her enhanced senses. It sounded like they were enjoying themselves, too. It was almost a surprise... when she'd first joined the group, she hadn't thought Angela was capable of fun at all. Maybe she was learning to lighten up a little.
She looked down at the badge again, turning it over and over in her hand. She wasn't sure why she had pulled it out of the drawer. Part of her wasn't sure why she had kept it at all. Maybe it was like that ex-boxer from the Rogue Isles had told her when they'd talked in the D. "You have to remember where you came from," he'd said. There was truth in it. She worried, sometimes, about what she was becoming. Her feral side was enticing, and when it came fully to the surface, the results could be frightening. It had saved her life just the other day, and psosibly some of her teammates' lives as well... but the level of violence she'd found herself capable of was more than a little bit scary.
Somehow, she didn't think Serina would have approved.
Walking over to her dresser, she stuck the badge up in the corner of the mirror. There, she'd have to face herself every day. Her old self, and her new self, too. Maybe she could find a balance there. She couldn't go back to being Serina again... and she didn't really want to. But she owed it to the girl in the picture to be someone that girl could be proud of. To be the hero she had always wanted to be.
She smiled. It was a cause she could live for. And to that end, there was work to be done. She looked across the room at the window again, and that smile grew into a fanged grin. It was a beautiful day... and the city was calling.
Go right ahead and use it. Kings Row is neat place, especially High Park, up by the Galaxy City entrance.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
The Cobalt Claymore landed near his houseboat in Providence Marina near Paragon City University's Founders Falls campus. He checked the ammuntion can again to make sure it hadn't opened during his aerial travels across the city. He set foot on the boat and went to open the hatch to the small living room on the boat.
Once inside, he turned on the lights and his laptop. He sat down in a threadbare recliner, and brought up the footrest. He slid the DVD into its appropriate drive and waited.
"Stupid computer," he grumbled as his computer searched the internet for the proper drivers. Another message popped up. "Password? A freaking password?" he said incredulously. He typed in his dad's favorite words. Nothing. He tried his dad's birthday. No luck. He even tried his own. Nothing.
"Oh, come on, Claymore, use your damn brain for once," he swore silently. He tried a couple of passphrases he and his father came up with in case they were separated. Once again, the computer asked for the right password. The Cobalt Claymore rubbed his temples.
Wait. His dad told him that he was going to give him this stuff on his 18th birthday. He typed in 063006, then remembered his dad always used military format for dates in his notes. He typed in 30JUN2006.
The DVD drive whirred as it started playing.
"Hello, Todd. It's June 29th, 2004. Tomorrow we go out and get your drivers' license. Since you're over at the lacrosse field with the guys, I finally have a little time to put this recording together."
The image of his father held up a newspaper photo of both the Cobalt Claymore and his sidekick the Gladius Kid. His father grinned. "That's us, buddy. You and me. If you're watching this, most likely you've taken another hero name. If you see this, it's because I died somehow. I hope I left you enough clues on where to find this. Maybe you're the new Cobalt Claymore, I don't know. I kind of hope so. It's a good name. It's a hero's name, even if the first one wasn't much of a hero at first. I know, what's your old man talking about, right? Well, let's start at the beginning."
First he showed a picture of himself around 1980. The excess gaudiness of the 70s hadn't yet transformed into the understated power of the 80s just yet. "This is your father, Michael Nigel Galahad. That's me." He held up a picture of a young lady with slight Asiatic features. "This is your mother, June Maehara. Her father is Doctor Kazuo Maehara, former professor of political science at San Jose State and native of Misawa prefecture in Japan. Her mother is Doctor Theresa Colchester of Essex, England. Doctor Colchester is a former professor of Economics at Stanford." his father said. "There's a reason I never mentioned your mother or showed you her picture. It's why I always changed the subject, too. It's because we nearly killed each other almost sixteen years ago."
His father looked at the picture on the screen. "She still breaks my heart to this day. I still love her and miss her, even if I don't know if she's alive or not. If she is, stay away from her as best you can. She's the heir to a ninja clan known as Jizoku no Himitsu, the House of Secrets. If we did anything good for the world, son, it was to have you and your brother."
The Cobalt Claymore heard sniffling over his shoulder.
"Michael, I miss you, too," a quiet voice said, choking back a sob.
The Cobalt Claymore turned his head. Sitting next to him in her usual mix of modern special operations gear and traditional ninja garb was the villain known in the Rogue Isles and around the world as Mother Aoi. The Cobalt Claymore had already spent quite enough time as a guest and prisoner to her.
"Mom? What are you doing here?"
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
Mother Aoi was looking at a missing piece of her life, that of her late husband. "Oh, Michael," she said, wiping tears away.
The Cobalt Claymore looked at his mother still shocked she got past his alarms. "Look, you need to get out of here, being a wanted criminal and all. I'm required to arrest you and see you stand trial for at least a dozen bank robberies, busting numerous villains out of jail, causing general panic and mayhem, and at least one terrorism charge for attacking that memorial for registered heroes who died in the first Rikti War."
"I'd rather you just keep playing that DVD," his mother said. "I'm glad your father left some kind of record about this."
"I'm sorry for not believing you about your and Dad's past," the Cobalt Claymore said. "The evidence is building to support your statements."
Mother Aoi's eyes kept darting back to the image of her late husband. She removed the scarf and mask from her face, and looked around with red-rimmed eyes. "Kleenex. Now."
The young hero grabbed the box of tissues off of the coffee table and handed them to his mother, trying to give her some semblance of privacy as she blew her nose. His eyes wandered to pictures on his wall of his high school graduation photo, his Parents' Day photo with the lacrosse team at Dartmouth, even his photo with Marie. There was always someone else's parents in the photo. The Cobalt Claymore looked back down at the image of his father. He hit play again on the media player and settled in. The voice of the former Cobalt Claymore began once again.
"Yes, you've got an older brother as well. His name is Michael Nigel Galahad, Junior," the older man said holding up a picture of him holding a baby and smiling. "This is all I've got of him. I don't even know if he looks more like me or your mother now. I hope he's doing some kind of good in the world."
The newer Cobalt Claymore stopped the DVD again, remembering the hell his older brother put him through during his short stay at the secluded headquarters of the House of Secrets. He remembered too well the sword that the so-called Cobalt Ghost put through his lung. He remembered the attacks, the taunts, everything. The young hero thought it was fortunate his father never saw what his eldest son became. He restarted the DVD.
"So, Todd," the former Cobalt Claymore's voice said, "that's your mother's side of the family. I've got these photos and more sealed up for you in this box. If you ever have kids of your own, you can show them who their grandparents were. How you explain to them what we did, though, is up to you. I suppose I should explain that."
The man in the home movie laid out some military gear on the table; it was the same items the Cobalt Claymore had found in the canister with the DVD and sealed envelopes. "I don't know if you'll ever meet up with these guys, but there's a longstanding semi-governmental conspiracy called the Malta Group. It was formed during the Cold War to keep the Communists in check, notably the ones running the Soviet Union. You remember the history lessons about them, right? It's now Russia and all those other nations? You were too young to care about the Commonwealth of Independent States when it was more than just a name, and that's just as well. The Malta Group's overarching plan was to subvert any Soviet research into making superheroes, to kill off any of their spies that we found here, and to ruin their counterspy network. I was known as Royal Helix Sierra, one of their assassination specialists. We called ourselves Gunslingers, as we'd draw and shoot before our targets could react. I liked getting in bit closer, though. It's where I learned to fight with knives and how to really fight with swords, not the sport that fencing has become. Fencing isn't a bad sport, otherwise I'd never agree to let you do it. It's a bit too ritualized for me, though. Getting back on track, though, you've got to realize that your old man wasn't much of a hero in his younger days." The image of the original Cobalt Claymore looked down at the gear in front of him. "Before I met your mother, I'd killed ninety-eight men with my guns, and another fifty with blades alone. Some had wives and children, others didn't. Some were true patriots of their nations. Some hated the country they lived in but wouldn't leave. Some just wanted to make a quick buck and get on with life."
The young hero stopped the player again. He looked over at his mother. "How many did you kill after you were married?"
Mother Aoi looked at the Cobalt Claymore. "As a team, at least another two hundred. We were very good at killing our targets," she said with a smile. "We were young, unstoppable and well-paid. It was a great time to be alive."
The Cobalt Claymore shuddered, then went back to the DVD.
"Over time, I began developing a conscience. I didn't mind killing as long as the money was good and if I eliminated a direct threat to NATO, the United States, heck, even Greenpeace, then it was a good thing. You don't think all their money went to keeping that boat in one piece, do you?" the man on the screen said with a grin. "I told myself that if I ever had kids, they'd never have to do what I did to save the world. They could be teachers, doctors, accountants, engineers, soldiers, machinists, welders, anything they wanted to be. That's where my conscience began to bother me."
Mother Aoi leaned in. "We started talking about getting married in order to travel inconspicuously. It worked somewhat, the Great White Traveler and his Half-Breed Wife. We made for something just exotic enough to be out of place, but also plausible enough to be in various trouble spots trying to 'understand other cultures.' It was a lie, but it was an effective lie."
The Cobalt Claymore's father continued. "When your mother and I were paired up by our respective groups, we did our missions well. I fell in love with your mother, and soon she realized she felt the same way. We got married and created a believeable backstory filled with activism, fighting The Man, and generally saying all the right platitudes to get close to our targets." The man on the screen took a drink of water. "My mind kept going back to having children, though. It went to making sure they were safe and happy. Then I thought about the life that child would lead if his parents brought their work home with them. I couldn't burden a kid with that. After a while, I convinced Neal McIntosh, one of the founders of the conpiracy, to send me and your mother to Chicago to gather information on the heroes there. Some would be for blackmail, other information would go to recruiting, still other information would go to assassination teams. It was easy duty when you could show them a Doctorate from a local university. Remember when you and I moved to Hyde Park so I could take that adjunct professorship in the Economics Department at the University of Chicago? That was due to my having graduated from there."
Mother Aoi smiled. "I hope you have some of his work on your bookshelf, even if it's just a collect of his monographs. He wrote brilliant essays on using microloans to jumpstart local businesses."
"They're in storage," the Cobalt Claymore said to his mother as he watched the DVD further.
"Getting back on track, I guess I could say that the more I thought about having a decent life for my kids the less joy I took in my real job. I needed to try something to break out of the assassination business. That's when I got the idea to become the Cobalt Claymore to learn more about heroes."
The young hero stared for a second. "He's kidding, right, Mom? The Cobalt Claymore identity wasn't just a cover for a spying mission, was it?"
"Yes," Mother Aoi said. "It was a cover at first. Your father grew to love saving people's lives, fighting criminals at the local level. He went native."
"I found that I loved being a hero more than being a murderer-for-hire. So, one night as I was out looking for signs of a gang war, I made a promise to myself, God, and any kids I'd ever have. I promised I'd change myself and make up for the things I did. Once that happened, I became the guy you know as your old man. When you and Mike Junior came along it was an answer to prayers, but it was a test, too. Could I be the hero I promised to be? I said I'd change my ways, and now with two sons I had no choice but to make good on my promises."
"He chose to quit?" the Cobalt Claymore asked his mother. "How was it you didn't kill him once you noticed?"
Mother Aoi sighed. "I was young and in love. And I was carrying you before I fully realized what happened. When you were born, your father and I lasted maybe a few more months. I had to decide if your father was more important than my family's mission or not."
The Cobalt Claymore's father continued. "It happened after you came along. Your mother and I split up, and not in a good way. You were maybe four months old when it happened. June and I had our last argument over scrubbing the mission. She decided she was going to take you both to her father's home in Japan and raise you within Maehara family's ninja organization. I couldn't let that happen. Your grandfather sent a dozen of his finest jounin and Neal McIntosh sent an assassination squad, both with the intent of killing me. I managed to beat enough of them to get through to your mother. She had just about stepped through one of her family's shadow portals when I grabbed her. I tried taking you both from her, but I could only keep hold of you. I'm sorry, Todd. You deserved to know your brother, and I failed you." The man on the screen paused, and shuddered a bit, fighting back tears. "Seeing your mother's face that one last time, seeing her broken heart as the last of our trust was broken, it still hurts even after almost sixteen years."
The Cobalt Claymore sat there stunned. "You chose the mission over Dad? Why?"
"My parents, my uncles, my cousins, our students. Honor required it. The mission was there before I married your father. If I'd kept better hold of you, none of this would have come to pass."
"So you took my brother and turned him into a sociopathic monster? You sent him on missions that required him to be as callous as you once were?" the Cobalt Claymore asked. "Now I see why he's so messed up."
"He has never returned home once I sent him to the Rogue Isles. He's disappeared completely."
The Cobalt Claymore looked again, blinking back a tear or two. "He got sick of your family's mission-or-death schtick as well, I bet."
The DVD movie continued. "Well, I hope I was a good father to you all these years, son. All the times I had to leave you with Mrs. Corrigan next door, the last-minute moves, I hope you won't blame me too much for trying to do right by you. I remember your tenth birthday, when you snuck into my den to play with the swords I had on the wall. I bet you remember that," the original Cobalt Claymore said. "When I saw you doing your little play fighting with all those unseen enemies, I saw you imitating me, yelling out my tagline like you heard on tv. You almost broke my desk lamp, too. And you almost broke the desk for that matter."
The young hero turned red. His mother smiled.
"I didn't want you to do my job, but at the same time I always wanted you to do what chose to do. It looked like you chose to be a hero then. So I offered you the chance to be not just my son, but my sidekick as well."
The Cobalt Claymore's jaw tightened.
"I hope I'm as proud of you when you graduate high school as I was the day you chose to learn what it took to be a hero. I'm sure I will be, no matter what. If you're watching this, son, I want you to know about everything in your parents' past. I've got some other stuff in there for you as well. I guess you could I say I wrote you an FAQ and some small textbooks. Yes, I'm leaving you a list of stuff to do in case I can't tell you directly. And yes, I'm leaving an instruction manual. Read it."
"Yeah, that's Dad all right," the Cobalt Claymore said with a smile. "King of Contingency Plans, that's him."
Mother Aoi shook her head. "The time he didn't plan, everything went to ruin." The Cobalt Claymore scowled at his mother. "Right, hero-worship."
The movie continued. "They'll be in here waiting for you, so will these photos, some of my old Malta gear, even some copies of legal documents in case the originals in the den ever get destroyed. All the basic history of the family is right here in this box. There's also something else in there, too. I want you to keep it with you from now on. You've seen me carry it no matter what. It should still be in the hat. You know how I was with the checkbook, but this is bigger. Think of it as a trust fund for your career. You've probably found it already. Good luck with your future, son. I love you and I always will." With that, he reached towards the camera and turned it off.
The Cobalt Claymore pulled out the blue crystal rosary his father hid inside the hatband. He stared at it, going over each bead. He noticed a slight flaw inside the bead closest to the crucifix. He'd have to get a jeweler's loupe and examine it. The flaw was too regular to be natural.
"I think you should go now, Mom," the Cobalt Claymore said. "This is guy stuff, between me and Dad. Besides, if Marie catches you here, she'll kill you."
"Giving me a chance to escape? I should take you with me, and see if I can finally convince you to stay on as heir to the House of Secrets."
"I told you no, Mom. Now get out before I have to arrest you from stem to stern. This is your chance to go peacefully."
"Very well," Mother Aoi said. "May I at least take something as a momento?"
"You have your head attached to your shoulders, that's enough," the Cobalt Claymore said.
"You are his son," the ninja leader said. "Merciful to a fault. I think I know the value of that little string of beads. You may yet find yourself coming to me for assistance regardless of your wishes. When you do, I will exact a heavy price for that assistance. I may be your mother, but I also have an entire organization to lead and protect. I will choose my greater family over one individual member. Do well to remember that."
With a slight smoky wisp of shadow, his mother disappeared from view. Well, at least he knew what to do to improve the alarm system now. With his mind in motion on home security and his family, the Cobalt Claymore began opening up the sealed plastic bags.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
"Welcome home, Lady Aoi," a genin guard said as he opened the gate for Mother Aoi. "It is good to have our Honored Mother home once more."
"Thank you, Shotaro," Mother Aoi said as she passed through the gate. As she walked past the rock garden, an Oni with a tetsubo strapped to his back appeared alongside her, as did a shadow in the form of a Heian courtier.
"Lady Aoi," the Oni said through its tusk-filled mouth, "it is good to have you home. We must discuss further our war on the Tsoo and their Ancestor Spirits."
"Yes," the living shadow said breathlessly. "We may yet break their hold in St. Martial and take their territory."
"We shall do that immediately. I thank you for indulging me in my desire to visit my son on such short notice."
"Has he finally relented and agreed to join us?" the Oni asked.
"No, I visited him solely to remind him of my reach and existence." Mother Aoi said. "It is, after all, a mother's prerogative to visit unexpectedly. I was surprised to find him rifling through a set of records hidden before his father's death. His father was always good at concealing things from me."
"You were too good for him, Lady Aoi," the Oni said. "I mean no offense when I say that. It is only my opinion."
"I shall forgive you this once," Mother Aoi said. "Seeing my late husband again has brought back many good memories, even if I only saw him in a home movie."
"Thank you, Honored Mother," the Oni replied.
"As for St. Martial, be careful around Hardcase. Also, monitor the banks in that part of the Rogue Isles to see if my son appears there. I think he found something of my husband's that should rightfully be mine."
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
(NB.: This is something I wrote shortly after the first episode of the show. I just never added it here is all. So, here it is, edited and updated.)
The cameras of "Serv'd!" were there when this discussion was filmed. Somehow it managed to get put into the intial DVD extras of the first season:
"Hephalicious? Well, Sara, it's different and quite frankly disturbs me." Hephaestus 1 stood by a whiteboard as a commercial storyboard was flashed on it as a slideshow.
Sara, the ad executive picked by the show's producers smiled in a rather predatory manner. "Don't worry! Stuff like this tests well among the 18-25 set. It'll be a huge new ad campaign for your show "Serv'd!" We've got some great ideas that we've built up for you."
"Okay. Like what?" the big blue cyborg said as he grabbed a can of soda.
"Well, in this ad, you'll be dancing to the tune 'Fergilicious' except the lyrics are altered to describe your show. It's a relatively popular tune, and this turned out to be a relatively popular show. There's synergy there!"
Heph looked at the ad exec again. "I have another question. Why did you draw me wearing hotpants?"
"Well, you'll be shaking your butt to the beat," Sara said, dancing like Elaine on Seinfeld (that is, badly).
"Can't I do that in regular trousers?" Heph asked.
"No, it's not visual enough."
"But it's embarassing. Besides, I don't wear shorts. I wear trousers." Heph raised up his leg to show the dark blue BDU trousers he normally wore on the show.
Sara looked at the pants, then back at her client. "That reminds me, Heph, why DO you wear pants?"
"Modesty. I don't want anyone to see what's in them unless I give them specific permission."
Sara's jaw dropped a bit, then she regained her composure. "You're a full-body conversion cyborg! You're a brain and some glands in a biopod surrounded by a robotic body! No one will care that you're not wearing--"
Hephaestus 1 leaned over and whispered somethng into the ad executive's ear.
"Oh," Sara said, her eyes widening. "Wait. How?"
Heph kept whispering, and Sara's eyes got a bit glassy.
"Wow. The Mysterious Doctor Nambu really IS an engineering genius," the young ad exec said.
"Look, just don't tell anyone, all right?" Heph said. "It's not really for public observation."
"And that's why you don't wear shorts?" Sara asked.
"Yes."
"So, uhm, how well does it work?" she asked again, trying to look disinterested.
"Just fine, thanks. My girlfriend likes it."
"Girlfriend?"
"Yes. The cutest little alien pyromaniac you'll ever meet," Heph said with a smile in his voice.
"Is there any way we can get her on the show?" Sara asked.
"Why?"
"Well, she can be your partner in serving court papers. It adds the romance factor that women are looking for," Sara explained. "It's a ratings-grabber."
"I don't think that Larry would like it," Heph said with a shake of his head for emphasis.
"Why would Larry care?"
"Because if I ask her nicely, she'll set Larry on fire the next time he mentions the name Brick Landers," the cyborg said, the smile in his voice returning.
"You mean the star of such movies as 'Brick Landers IS Brick Hammertoe in DEATH NINJA SORORITY 7!'?"
"Oh, *bleep* Sara, not you too!"
"My sister was in it. She was the naive-but-earnest ninja pledge from Epsilon Delta Hokuto."
Hephaestus 1 just stared at Sara, not moving at all.
"Heph? You're quiet. You know I hate it when you're quiet."
"First you put me in hot pants. Then you make me dance like a second-tier pop star, trying to destroy what modesty and dignity I have left. THEN you say your sister worked with Brick Landers!"
"What's wrong with that? It shows that you don't take yourself seriously."
"This dumb idea makes me wish I could just set my cybernetic body into Unthinking Rampage mode. I don't like the idea of oversexualizing my show. It was bad enough when I had to go pull Morgoth out of that tree after he lost his civil case. I never want to see an drunken old wizard in a sequined pink thong singing "I'm Every Woman" ever again." Heph said with a shudder. "I can't unsee that!"
"But Heph, sex sells."
"I know that, but can we do something that doesn't involve me shaking my large metal booty while wearing tiny pants?" Heph asked.
"Well, there's the other idea we had, though I don't know how well it will work considering your, uh," Sara looked at Heph's pants. "Well, your physique."
"Okay, what was it?"
"You know that story that gets passed around about eating sushi off of a na--"
"No," Heph interrupted, his hands folded across his chest.
"But the tagline is great! "Get Serv'd something Hephalicious!" And you'd be covered in sushi! Delicious sushi!"
"No. That tagline sucks! And I am not a dinner plate. I'm a human being!" Heph yelled, his hands waving off the idea.
"Well, how about onion rings instead?" Sara asked with a shrug.
Heph stared at her, wishing for Unthinking Rampage mode. He got up and walked towards the office door.
"Heph? Where are you going?"
"I'm going to go find a new advertising executive, Sara. You're obviously insane."
"Okay! We'll dip you in chocolate!"
"Goodbye, Sara!"
Sara ran after her meal ticket, her heels clacking on office floor. "Okay okay okay! Idea time! How about this? "Serv'd! It's better than When Rabid Circus Midgets Attack!" We can have you punching a rabid circus midget through a cinderblock wall!"
"I like that show, though!" Heph said as he and his camera crew walked out the door of the ad agency.
"Wait wait wait! I'll come up with some... oh, crap. They left." Sara looked at her schedule. "Well, I suppose I should cancel the appointment to get him fitted for lederhosen..."
The scene fades out and switches back to the DVD Extras menu.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
The show opens with Hephaestus 1 sitting in an overstuffed chair by a fireplace. He's wearing a smoking jacket and a pipe is somehow clenched in his jaw.
"Good evening! This is an unaired episode of "Serv'd!" that was taped before I had the misfortune of being saddled with Fang, the Littlest Werewolf. Frankly, it's not my favorite, and I told them not to air it. But this is the DVD edition of my tv series, so they said 'we should fill a DVD with crap episodes and add it to the collection because people like it!' So, this is a gift, such as it is, to my viewers from my producers. Please enjoy it for what it's worth and please tune in to Season 2 once the first few episodes are filmed. I really like the extra paycheck. And now, on with the show... the mythical "Serv'd! Episode 3."
"Serv'd! is next on A&E."
"So, people ask me," Hephaestus 1 started as he was driving his SUV down a street in Talos Island, "why do they send you on cases for minor stuff instead of sending you to serve arrest warrants to people like Countess Crey and Sebastian Frost?" Heph kept driving, waiting a few seconds as if he was expecting a response. "The reason they don't send me after Crey and Frost is because I go after them as a registered hero, not as a process server. It'd be a conflict of interest for me to serve cease-and-desist notices to them, then punch them through walls when they refuse to comply." Heph finally pulled into a parking spot near Spanky's Boardwalk. "Now, I ask you, how is it a conflict of interest? I don't know, but it apparently is according to Rhode Island state law. Me, I blame Law-yor and his cabal of superattorneys."
The Boardwalk was crowded only around the Falling Star Cafe, as usual. Everywhere else were groups of roaming Tsoo gang members and the occasional Circle of Thorns mages being beaten by members of the Warriors. Heph and his camera crew passed the tattooed warriors as they stood around looking tough and hypnotizing any dogs they saw playing fetch.
"So anyway we're here in Talos today to-" Heph's spiel was cut out by the annoying WEEOOOWEEOOOWEEOOO noise of the Tsoo hypnosis spells. "Okay we're here to-" WEEOOOWEEOOOWEEOOO. "We're-" WEEOOOWEEOOOWEEOOO.
Heph massaged his metal temples. "Right," he said as he walked to the nearest group of Tsoo. "Which of you guys is in charge here? Or do I have to assign one of you to take the blame?"
There was a surround-sound WEEOOOWEEOOOWEEOOO as the pack of thugs attempted to hypnotize Heph, followed by the sound of an explosion as the big blue cyborg stomped the ground, causing it to shatter and explode upwards, throwing the Tsoo in all directions. A Sorcerer teleported over followed shortly by an Ancestor Spirit.
"Oh no! Revered ancestor, your students have been defeated by this metal beast! Surely this is time for revenge!" the Sorcerer said.
The Ancestor Spirit grunted. "You have killed my students-"
Heph held his hand up. "Dude. They're unconscious. Not dead."
"Okay. You have not killed my students, but beaten them all with one punch. For this they must be avenged," the ghostly giant muttered half-heartedly.
"Yes, revered ancestor! Show this blue devil the error of his ways by sending him to the hell!" the Sorcerer added.
Heph looked over at the sorcerer. "Okay, how do you do that?"
"Do what?" the Sorcerer asked in reply.
"How do you talk in the same stilted format as every badly-dubbed kung fu movie from 1968 to, well, about 2000 or so?"
"This is how I always talk! I am a Sorcerer of action and deeds! Ha! Ha ha! Ha!"
Heph threw an uppercut that sent the Tsoo magician skyward.
The Ancestor Spirit floated up to Heph. "Thank you," it wheezed. "I thought I'd never be rid of him."
"Look, old-timer," Heph said, "I understand the whole avenging thing, but seriously, tell your kids to knock off the unwanted hypnosis. In fact, tell them to go get jobs or something."
"Where would they work? Most of them are tattoo artists by trade."
"So, your entire gang is nothing but tattoo artists?"
"Well, we tried working at the mirror factory, but one misplaced hypnosis spell, and the next thing we knew we were cleaning up lots of broken glass." the Ancestor Spirit looked at the cracks in the ground from Heph's foot stomp. "These kids today, with their tattoos and the kung fu. They never listen! In my day, we listened! Now? They try to hypnotize you! I blame the tv music channel!"
"Right. TV music channel." Heph looked around. "Look, I'm here to find a guy by the name of Odysseus. He's supposedly the head honcho of the Warriors."
"Odysseus! Bah! I knew Odysseus, and he's no-- wait, I didn't know Odysseus. Who did I know?" the oversized ghost said in confusion. "Meh, the guy you want is at the end of the pier."
"Thanks." Heph and his crew walked down the pier to find their quarry. A heavily muscled man with a surly look on his face and the colors of the Warriors gang was at the end of the pier.
"Huh. I thought you guys would never get here. Honor doesn't come cheap and it's time I confessed." the Warrior said.
"Uh, right. You're Odysseus, right?" Heph asked.
"No, I'm Alexander 'The Great' Pavlidis," the Warrior said as he cast a brooding gaze over the bay. "I'm a man who's done horrible things. Things you can't understand. I was wondering when the time would come to pay the piper."
"Didn't you kill the Cobalt Claymore's dad back in Chicago? I remember hearing that."
"That's right, pal. I've done things that I'm not proud of, but this is my way. Fighting to the death, it's what I do best. I'm the best at it out of all the other guys who fight to the death," Alexander said as he crouched down, looking over the water with an air of menacing contemplation. "Killing. It's what I am. No quarter asked, and none given when honorable combat to the death is on the line."
"And how did you kill him?" Heph asked incredulously. "And didn't you give yourself up to the Cobalt Claymore when he tracked you down?"
"Well, I won through a lucky shot. I'm not too proud about that. He outclassed me and if I hadn't had fifty of my best troops backing me up attacking him and if I hadn't used a handful of red pepper to blind him and if I hadn't been trying to hide behind his sidekick as a human shield maybe he would have won the day."
"So you cheated, then," Heph said. "You cheated during what you call honorable combat."
"Listen, pal, if I hadn't deceived him by wetting myself in fear and shouting 'I'm too pretty for jail!' then I'd be doing time in a supermax facility in Illinois," Alexander said. "But I turned myself in when the new Cobalt Claymore tracked me down. He even accompanied me to the station."
"And you confessed to the original Cobalt Claymore's murder?"
"Yes. And a bunch of other crimes."
"So why are you out here?" Heph asked again.
"The Zig was overcrowded as usual. So they let me go after two hours of processing."
"Wait. You weren't extradited?"
"No, no, see, the prosecutors understood that no jail could tame a wild beast such as myself. I'm as primal as the elements, pal. I'm grim-jawed violence personified. It's what I do best."
Heph looked at Alexander again and again. "Wait. So, violence is what you do best?"
"That's right, pal."
"Why aren't you fighting me, then?"
"I'm being merciful. I choose not to kill you with my sword or axe or bare hands or mind. Because I'm a warrior, born and bred, pal, and nothing stops me when I want to do something."
"I think you're a chicken," the cyborg said, the red lenses on his eye-cameras glowing menacingly. "A big old chicken who doesn't want to be noticed."
"I fear nothing, pal. Not even death."
"How about the Cobalt Claymore when he finds out you broke your word to serve time for his father's death?"
Alexander paled visibly. "What?"
"Yeah, see, I was coming here to serve Odysseus, your boss, with a cease-and-desist letter to stop busking in this area. His stage-fighting usually results in being beaten mercilessly by schoolchildren, and the parents are complaining that he's setting a bad example. I find you here instead. See, I work with CC. He's a good kid. Lately, though, he's been seen in the Rogue Isles working for his mother, under protest, naturally. He occasionally helps Freedom Corps by scouting out paths to Grandville for strike teams of heroes who are trying to stop Lord Recluse's latest doomsday plot."
"Well, if he's not here, I've got nothing to worry about. He's Recluse's problem."
"Yeah, but see, when he comes back, he's gonna be changed, know what I mean?" Heph asked.
"Changed how?" Alexander asked in return.
"Rumor has it his mother's some kind of psychopathic ninja warlord or something. She might have loosened his grip on controlling himself in a fight. She could have started him on the path of killing. Maybe even the slow, painful kind of killing. And you understand what would happen if a killer found out that the guy who made a life-changing promise to him broke that promise, right?" Heph said calmly, looking for dirt under his nonexistent fingernails. "Because killers always love having a justification to shield themselves from prosecution. You know, revenge could be a justification here."
"L-look here, p-p-pal," the Warrior leader stuttered nervously, "I-I am the one who's the b-best at violence. Killing is what I d-d-d-do!"
"I've seen the kid when he gets mad. He gets that angry kind of strength. I saw him put a four-foot blade into a block of oak three feet thick. Man, imagine what that could do to a guy." Heph took a step back and put his arm up as if to shield the recording crew. "Look out guys! He's getting ready to attack by wetting his pants in fear again! Run for your lives!"
Then Heph and the crew laughed.
"This isn't funny, guys!" Alexander whined. "I'm violent and untamable!"
"Only part of you is untamable, Al," Heph said. "You better go back to Blue Steel, give up again, and this time, get extradited to Illinois to stand trial like you said you would."
"But," Alexander sputtered, "I'll go to jail! For real jail, not Ziggursky!"
Hephaestus 1 looked over the now-soiled Warrior. "For real jail, or revenge-minded teenager with a high security level and an inventive imagination?"
"I don't want to go to for real jail! They always do that stupid line from the movie, too! I hate that," Alexander said.
"Yeah, that's too bad. So, when will your boss be here?" Heph said. "This summons isn't going to serve itself."
"He'll be here at 3pm," Alexander said. "Are you going to wait for him?"
"Yes," Heph said, "I think we will. And go change before you turn yourself in. You look like an idiot."
"I really have to go to for real jail?"
"Do you want the Cobalt Claymore to see you here?"
Alexander ran quickly towards the tram, and wound up face-first in Citadel's chest.
Eventually, Odysseus walked to the end of the pier.
"Dude, Alexander bailed early," Odysseus said. "Hey, uh, big blue dude, did you see Alexander, bra?"
"Bra? What the hell did you just call me?"
"I called you bra, bra," Odysseus answered. "It's like dude but friendly an' stuff."
"As much as I believe in supporting women through the use of hands-on solutions, I am not a bra," Heph said. "And aren't you supposed to be some kind of sophisticated-but-reserved kind of villain? Doing fake swordfighting while you have a jam band blaring in the background is more a public nuisance."
"I ditched that scene, bra. I wanted something less uptight. So, we all decided to just hang out on the pier all day and listen to Phish."
"You called me a bra again, Odysseus," Heph said. "I think you're having problems with reality."
"Maybe it's reality that has a problem with my scene, man," Odysseus retorted. "I'm just trying to entertain people and do my thing my way, bra."
"Call me a bra one more time and I'll hit you. Really hard."
"Dude, you are nothing like the other guy on tv, he's really laid back."
"I'm an ex-Chicago cop. For me, being laid back is when you get a really good rhythm going on a suspect's head with your riot baton."
"See, that's what I mean, br-"
Heph punched Odysseus in the solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him.
"Dude... not cool," Odysseus wheezed.
Heph stuck the cease-and-desist letter in the Warrior leader's vest pocket.
"I told you what would happen if you called me that. Anyway, there's a time on the letter for you to appear in district court if you want to argue the merits and enforcement of the letter. Sign it, date it, and hand carry it back to the courts complex to confirm your hearing time. If you do not do this you will be considered to have accepted the terms of the letter and will comply with it from now on. Failure to do so will result in a warrant being placed for your arrest. Odysseus, you got SERV'D!"
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
It was a long day. Ssgt Irine Kanahoe, USMCReserve was tired, more tired than she'd admit to anyone else as she landed semi gracefully on the roof of her Kings Row apartment. She usually was better than that, but the Warhulk she'd taken down detonated, munitions within, or maybe a fuel cell, damaging her armor. It was gonna take a bit of work out to get the dents this time. Irine sighed as she dispelled it. She needed a couple days off anyway, and while it was self repairing, it would be a bit until it was back to 100 percent FMC.
The feline marine frowned as she came around the big air conditioning unit on the roof, there was a flash of green smoke, and a woman screaming. Yep, It was them again. She stepped around the corner of the big Trane condenser, there was four of them, Paragon City's own chapter of the Silly Hat club, chanting as they prepared to sacrifice their victim. Didn't I tell you kids not to mess with the dark arts? It'll stunt your growth and you'll get hair on your palms.
The thorn wielder's eyes widened as he half heartedly pulled out his blade uh, yeah, we were just , like..leaving, yeah....listen, do you think we could go without the flying lesson this time? He stammered nervously as she approached, tail swishing back and forth, her fists glowing a bright red
Kanahoe just grinned, a very feral look on the felines face I don't know, every time I tell you to stay off my roof you're back the next-yow! She turned as a Spectral Knight materialized behind her, attacking.
FOOL! YOU DARE TO INTERUPT THE RITUAL? It screamed as it swung at her, its ghostly blade cutting through her tank top, and the fur on her back, leaving a shallow red line. The others in the circle glanced at each other, the Thorn Wielder's face resigned, as he dropped his blade and stuck his fingers in his ears..
The spirit was confused, it was a powerful attack, it should have felled that mortal! Looking closer at her he began to see his error, it was no ordinary mortal catgirl..this one's aura showed a vast power..and growing anger...
On the front steps of the building, First Sgt John Wilson, USMC (ret) sat relaxing, sipping a cool iced tea, and keeping a watchful eye over the neighborhood kids playing in the vacant lot across the street. There had been a few of the zombies wandering around earlier, but they'd been cleaned up by one of the spandex types, still, never a good idea in this city to let kids out of sight. He nodded at one of his neighbors, coming home from work Evenin Miss Watkins.
Evenin John, might want to tell the super, kept hearing noises up on the roof earlier, might be that cult dabbling in black magic aga- there was a thundering explosion, and a bright flash of blue light filled the sky from the rooftop, with several robed figures soaring through the air , ok, more of an uncontrolled ballistic trajectory, the mages squealing like little girls, one of them vainly flapping his arms trying to gain altitude.
John chuckled I think Sgt Kanahoe took care of them Miss Watkins, they're kind of like termites. Gotta spray for em regularly to keep them away. He opened the door for her then sat back down, chuckling. Be a while till they came back to this building at least.
Irine grumbled as she headed downstairs from the roof, she was tired, and having to use up that much more energy just made her more so. Still, the look on their faces was priceless. Opening the door to her floor she noticed the hall light was burned out again, not that it bothered her, feline eyes seeing quite well in the dark, but old Mr Lewbowski next door, he might trip..and there was someone by her apartment door...first Circle apprentices, now Skulls? It was just not her day.
She had gotten within a couple meters of him when she paused, he wasn't acting like he was a threat, in fact, just standing there, leaning against the wall as if waiting. Wasn't wearing the usual mask either. She cleared her throat, watching him jump in the air in surprise, relaxing a bit herself as she recognized him, it was the kid from 4b, Roberto, who gotten mixed up with the skulls last year.
Geez, scared the crap out of me! Sneakin up like that he said, rubbing the back of his head where he'd hit the wall.
shouldn't be waiting in the dark then she said, getting a better look. He was clean, unlike most of his former friends, something about gang bangers and bathing didn't go together. He stood a little taller too somehow so what brings you here?
He blushed a bit I just wanted to say thank you, for kicking my [censored] last spring. Gave me a lot to think about while I was in juvie. So I got my act together, ended up getting probation, and went back to school. Got my Diploma, but that's not the important thing.
she relaxed a bit, that was good news I'm glad to hear you got straightened out, like I told you then, you're too smart to be breaking into cars.
He just grinned well now I'm gonna be fixing them. Well, not cars, trucks actually. Report to MEPS tomorrow, then after I'm processed, I get to spend 12 weeks in sunny Paris Island, South Carolina.
well I wouldn't call it sunny, muggy maybe, and sand flea infested for sure. it was a good thing it was dark in the hallway, something was in her eyes, allergies maybe.
Anyway, you probably saved my life. Most of the guys I ran with back then...are dead, in the Zig or probably going to end up there. I just wanted to say, thanks. There was a shout from down stairs and he turned his head Be right there ma! shrugging he started to leave Ma's takin me out to dinner tonight, figure it's probably the last Paragon style Pizza I'm gonna get for a few months, so might as well enjoy it while I can.
Irine chuckled the food's not THAT bad, well maybe the MRE's..anyhow tell your mom hi, and congratulations. I know you'll make it through with no problems.
thanks Miss Kanahoe,er, I mean Sergeant. I'll see you when I get back
She just chuckled, tail swishing just remember, never refer to your DI as you, unless you want to see his face turn purple.
He laughed and headed down the stairs. She rubbed her eyes, damn, getting all sentimental she thought as she stepped into her apartment.
The mission would officially start when the team met up with the person they were escorting. Hopefully Team 37 would arrive at the village gate soon. Whispering Typhoon was still reading his copy of [u]Sword-Chucks Paradise[u] as he and his three students leapt from rooftop to rooftop.
"Typhoon-sensei," Claire asked, "Shouldn't you put that book away? It's indecent, what with its graphic descriptions of violence and unauthorized weapons modification!"
"How would you know what's in this book?"
Claire blushed. "I, uh, read it over your shoulder."
"What's on Page, oh, 125?"
Claire barely missed smacking against a tv antenna. "I don't want to say in front of King and Mary."
"Hmm. Are you sure you read the same book that's in my hand?"
"Yes," Claire said.
As the team closed in on the gate, there was an explosion below them. The Skulls, a gang of roving bandits, had destroyed yet another udon cart. The team stopped.
King McWhirter, considered a potential Imperial Shadow by the village elders peered down through the smoke. "There's about a dozen of them, Typhoon-sensei. And they're robbing the cart owner as well!"
"Go. Hunt. Kill Skulls," Whispering Typhoon said as he quoted one of the ancient ninja laws. "Remember, sensei's watching your back. I won't let anything too bad happen to you."
The three junior ninja dropped to ground level. Mary Tsoo stepped forward to take charge.
"All right, meanies! Say you're sorry and turn yourself in!"
The largest, meanest Skull turned around, brandishing a tetsubo that was wrapped in smoke and shadow. "Or what? You'll jiggle us to death?"
Another Skull was holding an axe. "Heh, yeah! Or maybe one of the two boys on her team will try to defend her."
"Boy?" King said. "Who you callin' 'boy'?"
"Boy?" Claire growled. "I'm a girl."
The Skull with the axe smiled under his mask. "Ooh, the flat chick is all feisty now!" he said wiggling his fingers in the universal sign for "Woo! Scary."
Claire seethed. "Oh, that tears it! Team 37! Budget Funeral Technique! NOW!"
Claire, King and Mary surrounded the smart-mouthed bandit before he could react. They dropped to the ground and unleashed three simultaneous kicks, sending the Skull high into the air. Mary shot into the sky faster than her target and used an overhand smash to send him back towards the ground. Claire threw herself into the air, her claws shredding the dazed bandit as he fell. King made the sign of the rat and a hole opened in the pavement below his target, swallowing the Skull and entombing him in the street.
The remaining Skulls took a step back except for their leader. "Huh. Pretty good. My turn!"
The Skull slammed his tetsubo into the ground like a piledriver, knocking the young ninjas to the ground. He appeared in the center of the team in a flickering shadow, then made the sign of the ox. Wisps of shadow leapt out from the cracks in the pavement and surrounded the youngsters, holding them to the ground and painfully sapping the life from them. The Skull leader smiled. He picked up Mary by the collar of her jacket. "I'm no meanie, in fact I'm gonna show you just how nice I really am. However, I have to be fair. See, you don't tell Spinesnapper to apologize. That's very stupid. And because I'm nice, I'm going to beat the stupid outta you before I take you back to my place. With a playful toss, he threw the drained ninja into the air and readied his tetsubo like a baseball bat. "Hey!" Spinesnapper shouted. "Heads up!"
Mary started her descent to the ground.
Spinesnapper went into the "McGwire Swings For The Bleachers" attack, bringing his iron-shod club up to meet the earthbound girl.
Suddenly the bat stopped and Mary Tsoo was no longer in the tetsubo's path. Whispering Typhoon stood on the club, preventing it from getting to mid-swing. The look in his eyes were that of pure murder. Claire had jumped into the air to catch her teammate and they landed nearby, still woozy from Spinesnapper's draining attack.
"Bad move, interrupting my reading like that," Whispering Typhoon said in a gravelly hiss. The jonin lunged at the Skull, catching him in the throat with a closed fist. The Skull gagged and spat as he tried to bring his tetsubo to bear on the ninja in front of him.
"Stand still," the Skull croaked. "I'm gonna kill you," he growled as the club's iron strips and studs gathered shadows from the ground. He swung the tetsubo right at Whispering Typhoon and connected. The jonin burst into a cloud of shadow.
"Slow and stupid will not win the day," Whispering Typhoon said as he reformed from his shadow body. "King, lock these fools down."
With a wave of his hand, the pavement liquefied and trapped the feet of the bandits. King began to slowly crush the bandits' legs, hearing them scream as tendons popped from the increasing pressure.
Whispering Typhoon gathered shadows of his own and threw a series of punches into Spinesnapper's midsection. Spinesnapper winced, then smiled.
"Shadow taijutsu doesn't work so well against us," the Skull leader said. "You know that, right? We stole that art from from the Imperial Shadow years ago. We know how to counter it."
"Do you now?" Whispering Typhoon said. "I hate know-it-all bandits, so consider yourself clued in." He threw another one-two combination, glancing his punches off of Spinesnapper's chest.
The Skull brought his down toward Whispering Typhoon's head, but the jonin slid to one side, landing two punches on Spinesnapper's right kidney. Spinesnapper yelped in pain and winced, but he went right back to smiling. "Nice try, but I'll be fine."
"If by fine you mean 'dead,' then yes," Whispering Typhoon said. He made the sign of the dragon and Spinesnapper found himself drained of the shadow chi he'd collected. A spiderweb of shadow connected the two men and pulsed as Spinesnapper's chi was reduced.
"Let me try again," Whispering Typhoon said as he doubled up on a flurry of bonecrushing punches. Spinesnapper fell backwards, tripping over his own feet.
Claire boggled a bit. "The hungry spider technique? I've never seen it before."
Whispering Typhoon smiled under his mask. "It's one of Honored Mother's favorites. It was only natural to teach it to her son." He picked the Skull up by his jacket lapels and headbutted him repeatedly, then hit his jugular vein with a vicious slap in order to collapse it. The Skull collapsed just as quickly as his brain was unable to get rid of the deoxygenated blood in time.
"Way to keep your pimp hand strong, Typhoon-sensei!" Mary yelled out, still dazed from Spinesnapper's attacks.
Whispering Typhoon pulled his mask and scarf off to be able to breathe better. "Now we have to wait for a recovery team to get here and help these guys out of the pavement. Good job everyone. I'm very proud of you."
Claire's eyes widened again. The flowing hair, the soft perfect lips, the shadowbrand that marked him as part of Mother Aoi's Maehara family. It was that teacher after all! Her secret crush, the one she'd sneak in on when he was teaching the history of Village-of-Emperors was leading her team today.
"I, uh, didn't know you left the academy grounds, Galahad-sensei. I usually see you with a sword on your back and much shorter hair," Claire squeaked.
"Hmm? Oh, yeah, that. Sometimes Lady Aoi will require me to go out on missions because one jonin or another isn't able to make it. And sometimes she sends me out so I don't get rusty. How did you know I was at the academy?"
"Oh, I had to drop off some entrance forms for neighborhood children as an assignment," Claire said. "It was an annoyance." Then again, every girl Claire's age gossiped about Lady Aoi's son, and compared themselves to his fiancee, the princess from Village-Under-Waves. Even then, Claire couldn't keep from looking at his face.
"What?" Whispering Typhoon asked. "Is something wrong?"
Claire blushed. "No," she said.
"Oh. You're looking at me like I've got food on my face or something."
"No, no! Nothing like that," the genin said. "I just never expected to be teamed up with you is all." Claire smiled inwardly. Now the girls in the Chuunin Cheerleader Assassin Squad would be so jealous of her! Becky Omega would be mad enough to have smoke pour out of her ears!
----
From under the manga, Claire still slept peacefully with a big smile on her face.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
Hephaestus 1 and Fang sat at a local doughnut shop at the counter. Heph had his usual: half a dozen glazed and a small black coffee. Fang went with the Paragon, the signature doughnut of the City of Heroes. It was a standard cake doughnut with pink frosting and sprinkles. He was allegedly drinking coffee as well, but he went with a grande double chocomochaccino with soy milk and whipped cream.
"You know, Fang," Heph said, "that if you go through with this you'll have to say goodbye to fru-fru coffee abominations like that."
"What about the doughnut, Heph?" Fang asked.
"The doughnut is off-limits for criticism," Heph said with a nod of authority. "A man's choice of deep-fried sugared bread for breakfast is his choice, and it is an inviolate one." The big blue cyborg took a swig from the styrofoam cup containing his coffee. "Coffee choice, however, has a hierarchy. The further away you go from black, the less manly it is."
Fang looked down at his so-called coffee. "But regular coffee is bitter, though."
"If you don't like the bitterness, then you've got a couple of options. Cream, half and half, milk, non-dairy stuff, and some kind of sweetener like sugar or Equal or something similar."
"What about chocolate?" Fang said, trying to keep from burying his snout in the huge mound of whipped cream floating on top of his drink.
"Chocolate will be a no-no if you take this new path. There are certain traditions in this world that are non-negotiable."
"Okay, what about women?" Fang said.
"I approve of them on general principle," Heph said.
"No," the little werewolf said, "I meant regarding coffee."
"Oh. Eh, they can do whatever. They're women, they get a pass on ruining coffee." Heph said.
"That's not a very nice thing to say about women's choices of coffee," Fang said.
"Look, it's a double standard in the business. Guys drink their coffee one way, women drink theirs either the same way as guys or they can get all wacky with it. It's been this way since at least 10000 B.S.," Heph explained.
"Don't you mean B.C.?"
"Nope," the cyborg said. "B.S. is short for 'Before Starbucks.'"
A look of understanding crossed Fang's face. "Got it. So, what about capuccino?"
"It has to be plain," Heph said. "You can add sugar, but remember that you're going for tradition. And with a latte, you might as well just get regular coffee and add milk yourself."
"I think lattes are more involved," Fang said.
"Who's teaching this life lesson here?" Heph asked.
Fang looked at the plate where a few doughnut crumbs still resided. "You are."
"Right! The reason I'm telling you this now is so you don't get mocked mercilessly by your co-workers. You'll get mocked anyway. It's part of the culture. You can take steps to minimize it, though, and that's why I'm telling you these things," Heph explained.
"It's going to be tough enough as it is, Fang, but you don't want to do anything to make things tougher on yourself."
"Well, how do I keep any semblance of being an individual?"
"That's off-duty. You can read your girly-girl manga in your off-time. On-duty, you talk about whatever the seniormost guy wants to talk about. Most likely it'll be sports or his kids," Heph said. "If he talks about cooking, it's likely to be barbecue or some other type of grilling, or whatever his family's ethnic dishes might be."
Fang nodded. "So, how should I go about getting a crash course in sports?"
"Well, did you ever try out for any teams in high school?"
"Just cross-country and Quiz Bowl," Fang said.
"Okay, cross-country is okay and kind of exotic but still manly, quiz bowl should be held in reserve unless your boss wants you to go to one of those trivia nights places hold as fundraisers."
"Should I tell them about tennis?"
"It depends on the context. Golf is usually cool if you're dealing with the upper-echelon guys or some kind of fund-raising deal, but tennis is usually only talked about in regards to the attractive women who are playing it," Heph said as he signaled for more doughnuts.
Fang looked over at Heph. "I still can't believe you're not trying to talk me out of this."
"Me? Nah. I would never talk a guy out of trying to be a police officer," Heph said. "You've got the brains, and maybe the months you spend at the academy will help bring out your brawn. Plus you have some life experience thanks to holding a full-time job during college. You'll have a leg up on guys who never held a job before."
Fang finished his "coffee" and grabbed the fresh doughnut off of his plate. "Be honest. Do you think I have a chance of graduating from the police academy?"
"It's a small chance," Heph said. "You'll have to work a lot harder just based on your personality. You're a good kid, but you're going to have toughen up mentally. No crying when someone messes with you, no complaining when you get stuck with a crap job. You'll also have to understand that there's a difference between enforcing the law and pursuing justice. Your job will be to enforce the laws, even the dumb ones. If you succeed, though, you can hold your head high. You'll have persevered when others failed."
"Okay," Fang said, "this is usually the point where you rip into me because I actually feel like I have a chance."
"Not gonna do it," Heph said. "You're taking a big risk on this, and I'll support you on it. You might be my sidekick, but you're also my teammate. You've also done stuff that I would never have done just out of my own sense of dignity. That takes some guts."
"What, like the corduroy lederhosen?"
"Yes. Like the corduroy lederhosen."
"What will you do when I'm gone?" Fang asked.
Heph looked over at his partner. "Be twice as funny, man, what else can I do?"
"So, twice as not-funny, then, right?" Fang asked, a grin on his face.
"Hmm. Not bad," Heph said. "You should do well if you use a little sarcasm here and there."
Fang finished his doughnut. "Man, I wish Uncle Larry would call. I'd like to get a little work done today."
Heph sat hunched over the counter. "Give it time, we'll have a job before we know it."
The two heroes sat at the counter, finishing up their breakfast.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
[Are we losing Fang? Oh no!]
Part of Sister Flame's Clickey-Clack Posse
The English language is an intricate high-speed precision tool.Stop using it to bang open coconuts. ~Tokamak
Dark_Respite's Video page
((Yep, Fang is going walkies for a while. But as Baldrick always used to say in the Blackadder series "I have a cunning plan..."))
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
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Hephaestus 1 sat behind a large table flanked by his long time recording associates Cameraman Mitch and Sound Man Clem. Each man had a microphone in front of him and a clipboard for writing notes.
"Okay," Heph said in a bored tone, "Number 35... you're up. Explain why you deserve to share in my tv show's royalties."
"Also, please explain why you should be worthy of being seen on one of cable's most-watched tv shows," Mitch added.
"And if you should be seen, explain why you've got anything important to say about doing minor tasks to uphold and continue the current small claims and civil courts of the State of Rhode Island," Clem said.
The camera turned towards the spot where the cast and crew of "Serv'd!" were focused. A microphone stand (complete with microphone no less) sat gleaming under a spotlight. A colorful array of heroes stood in the background, waiting to be called by number.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
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If I had carried her to term, she should be around four months old instead of two. But the ones who took her after I miscarried kept her in storage for months before they let her gestate.
What a strange way to think about your baby.
She's mine, but I didn't carry her. I didn't even know about her until that priest in the Rogue Isles told me I had lost her. No, from what I understand, she was nourished by machines in an artificial womb.
Excuse me a second...
There's so much I don't understand. I feel so ignorant. The workings of magic... the workings of science... Both of them have shaped my life -- twisted my existence so that I wonder sometimes if I'm even real.
But she's real. Her eyes are blue and her hair is golden ringlets that cover her little head like a princess' crown. She's soft and warm against my bare breast.
Silly. I'm feeding her from a bottle, but I still do all this preparation and sit alone with her in the nursery and pretend that she's getting her nourishment from my body. I close my eyes and listen to her suckle and imagine what it must be like.
Artificial womb. Artificial breast milk.
Oh, my baby, what can I give you that's real?
Grace turned up with her a few days ago. She said she had found her in the possession of one of her renegade followers. I've never trusted Grace. She tried to kill me after all. But when your enemy turns up at your door and tells you she's rescued your child... how can she still be your enemy?
Silly again. To maintain the fantasy, I switch sides and hold the bottle with my left hand.
But this time I open my eyes.
She's beautiful. She looks like her father, like her big sister, Betsy.
I owe Grace a huge debt. I can forgive that she almost killed me. Looking into my daughter's eyes, I could forgive anything.
Nick looks at her all the time. Holds her. Sings to her. His other daughters are nearly grown. This is the first time I've seen him with a baby. I like it. It makes me feel like there's a future for us.
He didn't bat an eye when I asked if I could pick the name. He let me have my way. (He usually does.) The first night we had her, I started thinking of her name. It just seemed right to have this name in the family.
Hermione. Hermione Rose.
She's a rose like her mommy and her auntie.
The bottle's nearly empty and her eyes are barely open, but I don't want to lay her down. I have months of nurturing to make up for. I have to give her something real.
I kiss her head and caress her little fingers.
The thought of her first heartbeat... the first kick of her tiny developing foot... It all should have happened inside me. I should have experienced that joyous torture of giving birth to her. But I'm damaged, broken. I wasn't even supposed to have gotten pregnant. If I hadn't lost her when I did, I would have lost her sooner or later anyway.
Somehow fate -- God? -- found a way around it. It's not the way I wanted it to be, but then, what is?
Oh, Hermione, it doesn't matter how you came to be. It only matters that you are.
I love you. And that's real.
Well done, Heroid!
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
Team 37 arrived at the gate that led to Village-In-Traffic-Gridlock. Mary Tsoo was still a bit woozy from the fight but she seemed to have recovered quickly enough. Claire noticed two other squads of ninja besides her own. One guarded the huge wooden gate, the other guarded one young man in the traditional gray gi of a genin. She also recognized the person wearing the clothes.
"Kanemura-sama!" Claire sputtered. "Why are you wearing the clothes of a lesser station? You should be wearing your samurai garb!"
John F. Kanemura stood surrounded by his other guards, with an embarrassed smile on his face. The genius swordsman known in the bodyguard community as Uncle Samurai looked the part of an inexperienced ninja, but then again he was no ninja. He'd been given his nickname because his usual cheerful and helpful demeanor reminded the village lords of a kindly old uncle despite being in his mid-20s. The Kanemura family was known as a family of bodyguards to the Emperor, not as diplomats. He was one of the few people who Lady Aoi acknowledged as an equal, if not a grudging superior. And now he was in the robes of a junior ninja such as Claire, Mary and King.
"Claire," Whispering Typhoon said, "show some respect. He has his reasons."
"Well," Uncle Samurai said, "I'm wearing a genin's clothes so I can blend in better with your team and be less noticeable. We're supposed to get there without too much incident, right? I guess I should have asked if your team dressed traditionally or not. Well, I suppose it can't be helped," he said with a humble smile.
Mary Tsoo walked up to Uncle Samurai and beamed. "Kanemura-sama knows what happens when we assume, right?"
Claire's did a double take. "Mary, you did NOT just make the 'assume' joke to Kanemura-sama. Why do you have to be so troublesome?"
Mary Tsoo looked over at Claire. "Familiarity among teammates makes for a more cohesive unit, so I've decided to treat him like I treat you guys! Now let's go have fun travelling through enemy territory!"
"You're certainly very upbeat, aren't you?" Uncle Samurai said, trying not to look down at Mary's bubbly personality. He turned to Whispering Typhoon. "I think we're ready to go."
King stepped forward, "Kanemura-sama, I think you'll stick out too much wearing your uniform so traditionally. You'll look like easy pickings to enemy ninja teams, as we normally only wear those on formal occasions. We'll have to make you look like you've been on assignment before." He opened up his gear bag and pulled out a knife, scissors, ink and paint.
"I knew King was used to talking with spirits through his artwork, but I wasn't aware he carried his tools with him," Whispering Typhoon said. "It makes sense now that I think about it."
"We have to modify a traditional outfit. Okay. Do you have something on under that shirt?" King asked as he spun his scissors around his finger.
"Just that weird mesh shirt that seems like everyone wears. I'd think it would get too cold to wear at times."
"It does," Mary and Claire said simultaneously.
With a flick of his scissors, King cut off the sleeves of Uncle Samurai's jacket, revealing the black mesh shirt underneath. The he removed the fake ninja's headband from his forehead and unfurled it.
"Okay, lots of options here," King said. "But the best for you will be to attach it to the belt that holds your swords." With a swift motion, the headband proclaiming Uncle Samurai's allegiance to Village-of-Emperors was wrapped in a way to further secure the paired swords carried by the samurai.
"Now, to personalize it a bit further. What's the mon of the Kanemura family?" King asked.
"It's a five-pointed star, why?"
The scissors disappeared, replaced by an ink brush in one hand and a paint brush in the other. Within seconds, the Kanemura family mon was drawn on the samurai's back and black paint was spattered on the gi to look like a negative of the Milky Way in the night sky. "We won't be able to do anything about the pants or the sandals, but this should make it look like you come from a family that prefers traditional looks but still lets its' kids get away with some originality."
"Hmm. Interesting," Uncle Samurai said.
"Now, can we please go? I'm getting really annoyed," Claire huffed.
Whispering Typhoon shrugged. "Fine, let's go."
The five representatives of Vilage-of-Emperors walked through the gate and into the no-mans land between the villages.
----
Claire Pachowski still dreamed from underneath her manga.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
Hephaestus 1 appears on the screen once again, still clad in a red velvet smoking jacket and still with a pipe clenched in his jaw.
"Hello, once again! Yes, there are times even I, Hephaestus 1 will go above and beyond the call of duty to assist young filmmakers in making fun of successful movies. What you are about to see is the result of one of those times. Enjoy!"
----
In a world of rude and outlandish behavior, one land with a code of propriety stands alone...
Hephaestus 1: "Oh, yah, we're sure we can find ya a cozy place ta stay don'cha know?"
Fang: "We got hotdish, too! Go get a plate!"
One land that's just a little nicer than yours.
Tourist: "You call this a slice of pizza? Man, I hate you fat, stupid Midwesterners! Let me tell you that back in Manhattan we--"
Hephaestus 1: "Manhattan? THIS... IS... MINNESOOOOOOOOTAAAAA!" *politely kicks the tourist into an ice-fishing hole* "Aw, do ya think that was too much?"
Fang: "Hmm, well it's certainly different that's for sure."
Hephaestus 1: "Aw, I'm sorry dere, don'cha know?" *looks into the hole* "Hey, I'm really sorry about that!"
Fang: "It's okay. We can fish him out in a couple minutes."
*scene of Prince writhing sensibly to the Mary Tyler Moore Show theme song as the Oracle of Minneapolis*
One land that has a lot of freshwater in it.
Tourist: "Our skyscrapers will blot out the sun!"
Fang: "Well, that explains why you're so pale! You need to get some sun. Ole! Sven! Take this guy fishing, okay?"
*Hephaestus 1 addresses his sensibly-dressed band of hockey players, fishermen, and NPR hosts*
Hephaestus 1: "MINNESOTANS! TONIGHT WE DINE... IN DULUTH!"
Minnesotans: "Will we be there in time for the Gophers game tonight? It's on the teevee!" "Aw, hey, I gotta cousin who lives in Duluth! Ya mind if I pop in ta say hey?" "Oh! Can we go to the Family Buffet there? They got good mashed potatoes and gravy!"
*In the midst of a polite argument at the buffet line, Garrison Keillor leaps over the discussion, his spoon in hand to scoop up a second helping of hotdish*
Action!
Scenes of gratuitous fishing!
A really nice shot of that one Hmong place there over in Dinkytown! Tell 'em Bjorn Gunderson sent ya!
10,000
Hephaestus 1: "Who borrowed my snowmobile?"
Fang: "Oh, sorry! I shoulda left ya a note!"
COMING SOON TO A THEATER NEAR YOU
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
[I do hope you'll pardon me if I say "What the...??]
Part of Sister Flame's Clickey-Clack Posse
The English language is an intricate high-speed precision tool.Stop using it to bang open coconuts. ~Tokamak
Dark_Respite's Video page
Minnesota - "Land of 10,000 Lakes"
10,000: playing off of "300"
Lots of references to Minnesotan quirks and general niceness combined with some of their more famous people. Heph enjoys making light of other Midwesterners' quirks, much like his own Southside Irish upbringing in Chicago.
And like he said, he enjoys working on stuff like this.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
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o.O
O.o
That is...wrong on so many levels. 
Team 37 and their VIP bounced from ledge to ledge near the main highways of Village-In-Traffic-Gridlock. As they moved from point to point, they scanned their surroundings to find any trouble. Claire led the way, as her ability to turn invisible gave her a better chance of sneaking up on sentries. She made herself visible again as she spotted something, then signaled the team to stop. She faded out again once the rest of the team stopped. The young ninja crawled forward, searching for tripwires, getting as close as she could to her target.
Two of the Clockwork King's Puppet Lords waved their hands like music conductors as their tiny army of rusted and rotted marionettes methodically stripped all the wood, metal and cable from an abandonded house. "Master desires more wooden planks, Master desires cogs and springs, Master says more water tanks, We love our Master, the Clockwork King!" the tiny puppets sang as they went about their business.
Claire shivered a bit as Whispering Typhoon crawled near her as a shadow body. He brought his form back to normal once he found a good spot to observe.
"Sorry about that," he whispered. "I forgot how this form is cold to some people."
"It's okay," Claire said. "There's two Puppet Lords and about six of their worker puppets. How should we approach this?"
"What would you do?" Whispering Typhoon said. "If you were team leader, how would you deal with this?"
Claire's heart skipped a little. Galahad-sensei was asking her for advice! She looked down and smiled a bit. "I'd go around them in a wide circle. They're lightning-throwers, and we don't have that kind of range. King could lock them down, but not permanently. We'll hold him in reserve in case we have to fight them."
"Okay. Do you see any other signs of trouble?" Whispering Typhoon asked as he edged closer to his temporary student.
"There's graffiti from the Trolls, and a few signs of fights between the Clockwork King and the Lost. I don't know if we can extrapolate the age of the signs of their passing, though. This may not be completely contested territory." Claire did her best to remain calm. If she just jutted out her elbow a tiny bit, she could touch him, sort of. The other girls at school would be so jealous!
"Claire, once this mission is done, I'd like to talk to you," Whispering Typhoon said. "It's, well, personal."
Claire began to sweat a bit. A teacher was going to talk to her about personal things? She hoped it would involve things she'd only heard about from high school girls and the girls her brother often worked with. "Sure, sensei," she whispered.
Claire managed to scout their way through Village-In-Traffic-Gridlock without futher incident and was halfway into Village-In-Islands before she realized she could stop. Uncle Samurai had to apologize profusely for not announcing themselves at the gate, but the village's ruling council seemed to be fine with it. Claire was so driven to find out what Whispering Typhoon wanted to ask her that she got them to their destination with unusual zeal. With a quick run to the ladies' room, she fixed her hair, added a little makeup, and unzipped her fighting jacket to show a little skin through that mesh shirt of hers. She ran back out, looking for her teacher.
"Over here," Whispering Typhoon said quietly as he leaned back on a nearby wall. "Claire, I don't know how to ask you this, but you're the only one who can help me."
"Of course, Galahad-sensei," she said nervously. "I'd be happy to for you to be my fir-- uhm, I mean I'm glad that you came to me before anyone else! I hope I can provide you with the answers you need," she said, hoping to avoid another faux pas like that.
Whispering Typhoon raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure." he removed his mask and scarf, running a comb through his hair. "The Princess of Village-Under-Waves and I are-"
"Breaking up? Oh, here, let me console you!" Claire said, clutching Whispering Typhoon's head closely to her still-developing chest.
"Mmphphmph!" the jonin said with a facefull of teenager.
"She was no good for you," Claire said. "Only a girl from Village-of-Emperors can give you what you need!"
"Well, fer starters, lemme up ya freak!" Whispering Typhoon said in Tommy's voice.
"Galahad-sensei?" Claire asked as she noticed that instead of shoulder-length brown hair, Whispering Typhoon's hair went from model-perfect to blue, spiky, and smelling faintly of... a garage? What the?
That's when Claire woke from her dream. She noticed that she was clutching her brother Tommy's fat head to her... her...
"OH, EWWWWW!" Claire yelped. "What are you doing in my room, Tommy?"
"Tryin' ta get ya ta wake up so I can drive ya ta school!" her brother shouted. "Little sister, there's some stuff I just don't wanna see!" the young man known as Back Yard Boom said to Claire.
Claire sat up, the manga still in her lap. Tommy backed off, checking his hair in a mirror.
"An' what's with all the 'oh, Galahad-sensei' stuff? Ya don't mean the Cobalt Claymore do ya? Todd Galahad?" Tommy asked with a grin.
Claire turned unbelievably crimson. "No," she grumbled half-heartedly.
"Ha! Yer dreamin' 'bout my friends! Claire's got a crush!"
"I do NOT, Tommy Pachowski!" Claire yelled as she lunged out of bed, trying to tackle her big brother.
Tommy was busy laughing so hard she managed to take him to the floor for once.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
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Hephaestus 1 sat behind a folding table with his recording crew Mitch and Clem. Heph was looking over a stack of résumés and headshots. Each new portfolio was greeted with Heph shaking his head and sighing raggedly.
"Look guys," Heph said, "we've got to find a good replacement for Fang. He won't be able to come back to us once he's gone through the police academy. He'll be stuck on the streets as a regular patrol officer for at least two years before he gets in on the Supercriminal Investigations Unit like he wants."
"What does that mean for us?" Mitch asked.
"It means we have to find someone who the bigwigs at A&E will like, as well as someone who none of us want to kill after one filming session."
"Heph, didn't you want to kill Fang after one filming session?" Clem asked.
"Yeah. But he grew on me like mold. The kid's heart is in the right place," Heph said. "Okay, let's get to our first potential applicant. Applicant Number 1! Front and center!" the big blue cyborg shouted.
A short man walked quickly to the microphone, his twinkies-and-beer gut protruding slightly from under his t-shirt of two dragons fighting on a giant skull. His mouth seemed ringed by the remnants of a couple dozen glazed doughnuts. "HI!" he shouted as his flannel shirt flapped slightly in breeze. "I'M HERE FOR THE JOB!"
Clem, the sound man, winced. Mitch slapped his forehead.
"Name," Heph said.
"WHAT?"
"Name," Heph repeated.
"I'M BARRY!"
"Barry," Heph said. "Is that your hero name?"
"NO! I'M... I EAT PASTE MAN!" the flabby man said with a flourish.
"I Eat Paste Man... yeah, that's great," Heph said. "What powers do you have?"
"I EAT PASTE!" I EAT PASTE MAN shouted.
"Anything else?"
"THEN I POOP IT OUT LATER! IN THE BATHROOM! 'CAUSE THAT'S WHERE IT GOES WHEN YOU'RE DONE WITH IT!"
"Right," Mitch said. "So, you don't have any real powers?"
"NO REAL POWERS? CAN YOU EAT PASTE AND GET ALL YOUR VITAMINS AND MINERALS? I DON'T THINK YOU CAN!" I EAT PASTE MAN said. "WHO CAN DO THAT? ONLY ME!"
Heph held his head in his hands. "So, what's your crimefighting experience?"
"WELL, I CAUGHT GUYS AT THE WIZARD'S-" I EAT PASTE MAN began.
"LOWER THAT VOICE WHEN YOU'RE TALKING TO US, LARDY MCCHUNKERSON!" Heph shouted.
I EAT PASTE MAN's lower lip quivered, causing some of the dried paste around his mouth to fleck off and fall onto his shirt. Now his dragons looked they were fighting over dandruff shampoo. "AHE- Ahem," he said, "I- I- I caught guys one time at The Wizard's Starship game store cheating at Dueling Awesome Monster Fights Puce and Chartreuse Editions with ULTRAMEGAFOIL RABIDOS THE UNDEAD LLAMA-"
"Get off the stage," Heph said. "You're embarrassing me, my crew, and the werewolf who you're replacing."
"So I don't get the job?"
"No. You definitely do NOT have what it takes," Heph said. "At least Fang took some Criminal Justice courses before he settled on his major."
"I dressed up like Judge Feer one time in 8th Grade," I EAT PASTE MAN said in his defense.
Heph stared at the first applicant, powering up his head-mounted lasers. "GO. AWAY."
"You guys are totally BANNED from the STORE when I tell Bill who runs the place! You'll never set foot in The Wizard's Starship!" I EAT PASTE MAN said as he walked off the stage.
Mitch looked over at Heph. "'Lardy McChunkerson?' Dude, you of all people shouldn't make fun of peoples' weight problems."
"Just because I was the fat wheezy kid my sophmore year in high school doesn't mean I stayed that way," Heph said.
"You had a beergut going in your last few years," Mitch said. "I saw the photos."
"That beergut was earned," Heph sniffed. "Twenty-four years of dealing with Chicago's Most Useless Criminals will do that to you. But enough about my time spent as bodyguard to various aldermen, let's get to our second applicant."
"Applicant Number Two, come on down," Clem said. "Give us your hero name and powers."
"Mars, Bringer of War" by Gustav Holst began to play over the speakers.
"For years, I have stood in the shadows of giants."
The music grew louder.
"I have seen the evil of my ways and wish to atone!" the unseen applicant said. "For I am..."
The first horns of the musical piece blared the war god's approach. Two more spotlights shone down upon the floor and all three spots were concealed by and explosion of smoke and glitter. As the smoke cleared, a man in a long white cape and ice blue suit appeared. He spun around, scattering the glitter everywhere and showing off his bright red chest symbol of an iceberg with the universal symbol for "no" lining it out.
"MEL-TOR THE MIGHTY!" the caped man said from under his domino mask and light blue waxed moustache and van [censored] beard. "I am the sidekick you seek!"
Clem and Mitch burst out laughing.
"Cease your cackling, oh hyenas of media production, lest MEL-TOR THE MIGHTY ensure that you never have an excuse to be late for work again!"
Heph sat there. "Nice entrance. But it's too much for the sidekick role. I need you to help me deliver minor court papers for the state of Rhode Island. So, Mel-tor, what's your powerset?"
"I am," the costumed man said as he struck a heoric pose "MMMMMMEL-TOR! I... melt!"
Mitch and Clem began snickering again.
"You melt," Heph said.
"Yes!"
"I don't have any need for someone who turns into a puddle as their power."
"No, you blue buffoon! I melt... THINGS!" Mel-Tor said with a flourish.
Heph folded his arms. "Buffoon? You don't want this job much, do you?"
"I am... indispensable! Indispensable to the entire process of justice. And I do not melt, but I melt things! That is my power!"
"What kind of things? Like steel?"
Mel-Tor pulled his cape across his chest and looked down his nose at Hephaestus 1. "Do I look like some neophyte who uses FIRE? No! I melt... WITH MY MIND!" the costumed man said, putting his fingertips to his temples.
"You melt... cheese?" Heph asked.
"No."
"You melt... plastic?" Mitch asked.
"No! These are too pedestrian for one such as myself!" Mel-Tor said.
"Then what DO you melt?" Clem asked, trying to suppress laughter.
"I melt..." Mel-Tor said with a histrionic pause, "SNOW AND ICE! For I am... MMMMEL-TOR!"
"Right. Well, you said you changed your evil ways. Are you a former villain?"
"Yes, I am on a mission to make good before I go to my final judgment. I was formerly MEL-TOR THE MERCILESS, Bane to Schoolchildren Throughout Parts of Wisconsin and Minnesota!" the hero said, expecting everyone to acknowledge his former career.
"Bane to Schoolchildren? You're not one of THOSE villains, are you? Because if you are, then there's no way you're getting on my show!" Heph said, acting as if he was popping his knuckles.
"No, my cybernetic comrade, I who was feared as MEL-TOR THE MONSTROUS would never do such things to children. Instead, I was much worse! Worse, I tell you!"
"Wait, what's worse than that?" Heph asked, motioning to Clem and Mitch to get on the delay buttons if need be.
"Through a clever ruse which allowed me to momentarily take over all the farm reports in Tri-State Area near Duluth, I, MEL-TOR, demanded that all schoolchildren rummage through their Mommys' and Daddys' purses and wallets and gather up all the cash they could find and give it to me. Otherwise, they could kiss goodbye their chances at ever seeing a snow day ever again! For this reason, I was feared as MEL-TOR, the Man Without Winter!"
"So, what happened?" Heph asked.
"The tribute I demanded did not come through. And so, I MELTED all the ice and snow off of all the streets, roads, and other paved surfaces in a five-hundred mile area around LaCrosse, Wisconsin! Children cried as the school buses came on time and in good condition!" Mel-Tor said. "Suddenly, people were refusing to pay me to not melt the ice and snow off of their driveways and sidewalks! Oh, those fools! Now they'd never be able to slip and fall on a neighbor's sidewalk and sue for damages!"
Heph looked down at the listing of his achievements. "So, the depths of your villainy were reducing traffic accidents, getting kids to school and increasing home safety?"
"Yes! In our litigious society, people DREAM of getting easy money through long and drawn-out torts! I stood to profit by taking away that dream!" Mel-Tor said proudly.
"Did you actually profit from it?" Heph asked.
"No, which is why I, MEL-TOR THE MUCH IN NEED OF A SANDWICH, am here today. My villainy has led only to starvation! This was a sign that I must change my evil ways of keeping people safe despite their best attempts and instead join in the process of serving court papers for nuisance lawsuits and local ordinance violations!"
"How about roofs?" Mitch asked. "Do you do roofs?"
"What? I can melt ANYTHING that is either ICE or SNOW, for I am... MMMMEL-TOR!" the deluded villain-turned-hero said.
"You realize that people would actually pay for snow removal service, right?" Clem said. "It sounds like they played your for a sucker. You could have charged them for the privilege of snow removal and been reviled as the guy who overcharges for snow removal."
"Being reviled for overcharging is a little evil, is it not?" Mel-Tor asked.
"Well, they are paying for convenience," Heph said.
"Clearly, I have been played for a fool! I see that I have no need to be part of this slack-jawed japery! I return to LaCrosse to remove the snow and ice from any pathways used for daily travel. Soon, all will call upon MEL-TOR, or they will suffer frostbite and bad back from removing the snow on their own! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!" With that, Mel-Tor leapt like a moron into the shadows, leaving glitter in his wake.
"Mitch, Clem," Heph said. "I think we can all die now, for we've seen everything."
"Have you ever seen a man eat his own head?" a voice growled from behind the microphone.
"Well, no, but Applicant Number Three is Man Who Can Eat His Own Head Man," Heph said.
"Well, you won't see him do it. I dared him to try eating his own head in front of me," said a lantern-jawed gray-haired man in a fighting suit with "T.A." over the breast pocket.
"And what happened?" Heph asked.
"He did. It's a sight I'll take with me to my grave. But, uh, he's in no condition to audition now, not having a head and all." the older man said. "I'm Applicant Number 4, Troy Awesome. Former leader of Team Awesome. We'll dispense with the formalities and you can call me Mr. Awesome."
"It says here that you were kicked out of the team you founded due to a scandal involving Awesome Boy, Awesome Girl, Awesome Hound, and a half-gallon of tequila," Heph said. "Not exactly family-friendly."
"I was teaching the kids how to resist various interrogation techniques. The first was a course on resisting poisons and truth serums," Mr. Awesome said with a confident grin. "Do you mind if I smoke my pipe here?"
"Yes, it's non-smoking in the building," Mitch said.
"Thanks," Mr. Awesome said as he lit his pipe.
Heph, Mitch and Clem looked at each other.
"Anyway, so we were at Commandante Borracho's Tequilería for Five-For-One Margarita Night, which is the perfect time to teach the kids about how to resist alcohol poisoning and how to notice if anyone is trying to drug your drink."
"Go on," Heph said.
"Well, I showed them the effect of Roofies on a middle-aged man after he'd had a pitcher or five of the crap that office workers call margaritas," Mr. Awesome growled through years of smoke-wrecked larnyx, "and the next thing I knew I was covered in spray cheese and Awesome Hound was looking at me with eyes that said... 'Ro, Roy! Rot re Reese! Rot re Reese!' Well, maybe he said it. I still have missing memories from that training session."
"Tell you what, Troy," Heph said, "you walk away from here and withdraw your application and I promise that this once I will not leap over this table and remove you from existence for being some kind of sick and freaky little monkey."
Mr. Awesome took the pipe from his mouth and smiled confidently. "I'll look forward to hearing from your contractng department. Good day," he said as he left.
Heph pushed the stack of remaining portfolios away. "These are the best we could get? Paragon City is full of heroes and THIS is the quality of the sidekick-slash-valued teammate?"
Mitch looked at Heph and Clem. "How about an open casting call? There's got to be some hero out there who needs to make a few extra bucks out there."
Heph stroked his metal chin. "Your idea may have merit, Mitch. Who in the City of Heroes is good enough, wacky enough, and doggone it, confident enough to be my partner? Who can put their dignity on the line for the entertainment of millions, yet do so in a manner that shows that he or she is comfortable enough to do what needs to be done? Who out there believes that hot or cold, Justice is a dish best SERV'D!"
The screen faded to black. The comforting but dramatic tones of Bill Kurtis then filled the speakers.
"Attention Heroes: If you want to ensure that the minor tasks of the civil justice system are attended to and don't mind being on cable, send an email to Hephaestus 1 on your Paragon City Communicators to schedule a time for an interview. Our staff will work to see if you've got what it takes. Cannibals, cat- and kitten-haters, anyone who considers humans as food especially if said humans are still alive while feeding, villains, dancing penguins (because Hephaestus 1 doesn't trust dancing penguins), people whose idea of fun involves harming children and fast-food mascots need not apply. Applications will start being accepted October 31st through November 2nd. Good luck to all appicants."
((See, Moggie? I told you I had a cunning plan to take care of Fang's leaving the show.))
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
(( Danke, danke! Hopefully, I can get into the habit of writing more. Dart may be at 50, but he's got plenty of stories left to tell.
And then there are the alts.
PS REPLY #300 NOS GO GO GO ))