((Feel free to shoot holes through my writing technique. Constructive criticism is always welcome.))
I do not know my reasons for posting, but post I must. ~~Build
"We can't stop here, this is bat country."
--Johnny Depp
"I ain't bi-curious, I'm a man. Why do you think I'm wearing this tight spandex and got all these muscles?" Meatwad
Justice Reborn crouched in a shadowed corner of a ledge. Below him was a group of Skulls that were standing around a downed figure. There were six of them in the group, five standing around laughing and one beating the bystander with a bat.
Justice crouch walked down the ledge to get closer to the group. For some reason even though his blue and white suit should have stood out against the heavy shadows, he blended becoming invisible to the untrained eye. When he was within leaping distance of the group he stood, casting aside any hope of being unnoticed.
Within the past few weeks his actions had become increasingly unstable and reckless. He went from never allowing an enemy to get an attack off at him to walking down an alley with bullets buzzing around his head, never flinching. His actions had even led to his withdrawl from his super group.
He leaned out over the ledge and purposely kicked a loose stone off of the ledge. His heartrate sped up as the two closest to him turned in slow motion to look up at the ledge.
"Hey Hax! We got company bro! The cape wearing kind," One of the two shouted to the one holding the bat.
Hax stood, looking up at the hero he slowly drew a bead on him with a sawed off shotgun he had seemingly produced from nowhere, "Heh! Doesn't look like he could fight his way outa a wet bag. Ain't heroes supposed to stop crimes when they see 'em?"
Justice smiled behind the anonymity of his mask, "I was just enjoying the show. Wouldn't want to fight a group as low as you by jumping them. Gotta have atleast some challenge."
Hax's finger tightened on the trigger. He broke into a wide grin as he taunted the hero, "We're more than enough of a challenge to take out a cape as stupid as you."
Justice did a bunny hop, putting both feet against the wall and harshly pushing off allowing him to do a front flip over the blast from the shotgun as it discharged with a roar in the confines of the allyway. Justice bouced off the ground as soon as he landed putting a foot in the lower back of both the two that had first tuned toward him. They both flew forward smashing into a steel dumpster.
The others exploded into action. Hax brought his gun level with the hero's head as his other three compatriots pulled knives and sledgehammers. Justice reached out a well muscled hand and gripped the barrel of the shotgun. He used it as a lever launching himself into Sledgehammer.
Sledgehammer let out a grunt as he caught two booted feet in the stomach. Justice released the gun barrel as he springboarded off of Sledgehammer's stomach and flipped over Hax's head.
As he landed Knife One and Knife Two had enough time to lunge forward. Justice grabbed both of their knife arms and flipped backwards pulling them into each other. Knife One caught Knife Two's blade in the shoulder while Knife Two felt a searing pain in his side as Knife One's blade peirced his ribcage.
He roughly kicked Knife One's feet out from under him bringing his left knee up into his face. Knife One fell with hardly a sound. Justice turned to Hax and pantomimed choking, "Looks like you aren't as bad as you thought. You could have shot me three" *BOOM!* Justice felt the air knocked out of him as the gun discharged four feet from his chest.
Hax laughed loudly as he approached Justice's prone figure, "You talk too much hero! I didn't need to shoot you three times, only once," He said as he reloaded his shot gun. As he snapped the gun back in place he brought it to bear a few inches from the back of the hero's skull.
"Now you die pun---" Hax almost finished his sentence as Justice flipped straight up from the ground kicking the gun out of Hax's hands. Justice put both hands on the ground and did a move commonly used in Capoeira as he spun his legs in the air. Hax received a stunning blow to the jaw as he fell backwards.
Justice stood over Hax's stunned body, "Gotta end sometime bud. I'm tired of playing." Justice brought a foot up and smashed his heel into Hax's nose.
Justice stretched a little, wincing at the pain in his chest. After estimating how much damage he had done to himself he walked over to he innocent bystander. He crouched down by the guys left shoulder and layed a hand on his shoulder, "You okay?"
The guy rolled over and launched a fireball into Justice's face. Justice fell back onto his rump as the Hellion stood. The Hellion's hands glowed with magical fire as he charged up for another blast. As he flung his arms forward releasing the fire Justice rolled out of the way, narrowly avoiding being seared.
Justice flipped off the ground, putting all his weight behind a massive headbutt he delivered to the Hellion's face. There was a sickening cruch as the Hellion lurched backward. Justice leapt off both feet, delivering a solid roundhouse kick to the Hellion's sternum. There was a sickening crunch right before the Hellion released a gurgling noise.
The Hellion fell to the ground, clutching the shattered bones in his chest. Justice rushed forward, knealing beside the fallen Hellion. He clutched the injured man's head to his chest. Nononononono. Not again! He can't be that badly hurt. I didn't even hit him that hard. He can't be. . .no!
The Hellion looked up at him and let out a sickening gurgle, "Why man? I wasn't gonna hurt you this bad. . ." The Hellion said as his body gave a shudder and went limp.
Justice let the boy. Yeah boy. He couldn't have been older than nineteen. He lay the boy's head down and looked at the blood that covered his hands. He slid across the ground away from the boy, trying to get as far away from the act as he could.
He curled his knees into his chest and wrapped his arms around them. Tears coursed from his eyes and began to choke him, as they couldn't find an exit from the mask. He reached a hand up and grabbed the top of the mask. He pulled with hands that shook and felt like jell-o till his mask broke free of the connectors of his suit. His suit deactivated as soon as the mask came off, letting his muscles feel the full effects of his actions.
The strain his muscles been put through in the last thirty seconds, happened all at once within the nanosecond it took for the connection to be severed. His circulatory and respiratory system went through the strain at the same time, making his body begin to shake uncontrollably. He began to cough, covering his mouth with one hand.
As he removed the hand from his mouth it began to rain. Looking down at his upstretched hand he saw blood, and it wasn't the boy's.
I do not know my reasons for posting, but post I must. ~~Build
"We can't stop here, this is bat country."
--Johnny Depp
"I ain't bi-curious, I'm a man. Why do you think I'm wearing this tight spandex and got all these muscles?" Meatwad
Justice heard moaning as the Skulls began to regain consciousness and begin to crawl or limp away. Sledgehammer grabbed Hax's arm and dragged him out of the alleyway. Knife One had a broken nose but was still able to help Knife Two out of the alley. The dumpster twins both limped out of the alley and dissappeared.
Justice sat with his back pressed against the wall. He could still taste the coppery tang of blood in his mouth. He leaned his head back allowing the rain to fall on his face. He reached with leaden hands into his belt pouch and removed his police ban. He flipped open the screen and activated the two way calling feature.
He waited for the line to connect. The voice of Macy Dark, his contact inside the PPD, answered, "Justice? That you?"
"Yeah Macy, it's me. I need a retrieval. I killed a guy," He said, barely keeping his voice from cracking.
"Damnit Eric. I'll send a squad car and see about getting some Freedom Corps medics out there now," Macy said with something close to dissappointment.
Macy had tried the dating thing with Eric when he had first come to the city. She had found his vigilante/rogue mentality to be destructive to both of their lives. After three months of dating they had agreed to call off their relationship but continue to keep a professional attachment.
She quickly dialed in the code for a retrieval, then she contacted Freedom Corps and requested a medic team. She knew from past experience how fast they would respond. She Just hoped Eric wouldn't do anything stupid.
Eric stared down the alley at the body. His lungs seemed to be on fire, his muscles sore to the point of agony. He could barely lift his arms. Eric knew that if he wore the suit for longer than an hour it would do massive amounts of damage to his body, and that was an hour of inactivity. The thirty seconds of high flying acrobatics had done a number on him.
His body was wracked with spasms as another fit of coughing over took him. Blood spattered the front of his suit, leaving a trail towards his mouth. His eyes seemed to become unfocused as he passed out.
When he opened his eyes again two PPD officers stood over him running a flashlight through his eyes. "Comeon Eric. Come back to us buddy," One of the officers said. Justice's eyes focused on the officers face. Officer Paul Ramone, He was one of Erics only friends that had stayed with him from the start of his heroing career.
Eric coughed a few times as he looked up into Paul's face and said, "Paul. . . I need help, man. I need help bad."
"The medics will be here within a few minutes Eric, don't try to talk," Paul ordered as he took Eric's pulse.
There was a curse as his partner walked back up the alley from the body, "The kid's dead Paul."
Eric let out a short curse as he began to cough again. Paul tried to roll him over onto his side to allow his airway to remain clear. By the time Eric's body started to recover from the coughing fit, the white and red ambulance with the Freedom Corps logo on the side pulled up at the head of the alley.
The medics got out, carrying a stretcher between them. They lay it down next to Eric and listened to the stats Paul had taken. They picked up Eric and positioned him on the stretcher before placing it in the back of the ambulance. Eric lay there, staring up at the white roof and the racks of medical supplies along the walls.
One of the medics walked around to the front and got in the drivers seat while the other one crawled in the back and attached a breathing apparatus around Eric's face. "I'm giving you a localized anesthetic to help you sleep. When you wake up we will be at the hospital," The medic said as he inserted an I.V. with a Salene drip and injected a clear solution into the needle port.
Eric felt his body start to go numb. Everything seemed to start fading. His eyes began to close as he heard the medic say something about bodily stress limits. Within seconds Eric was lost to the world and let himself sink into unconsciousness.
I do not know my reasons for posting, but post I must. ~~Build
"We can't stop here, this is bat country."
--Johnny Depp
"I ain't bi-curious, I'm a man. Why do you think I'm wearing this tight spandex and got all these muscles?" Meatwad
Eric felt like he was floating. His body seemed to be suspended in a weightless void. He could here bits and peices of conversations that were going on around him. His chest still felt like it was on fire and his throat was so dry it was almost torture.
"He can't keep doing this. More of the two-bit gangsters around here get off because of assault than go to the Zig because of him."
"It's not his fault. He can't control it any more."
"Stop making excuses Azariel. He knew what was happening and he enjoyed it. He won't last much longer out there if he keeps going at this pace."
"Malcolm, I'm not making excuses for him. He is one of the best fighters we know, and the work he has done for this city---"
"Has caused more criminals to spend time in the hospital then be returned to the street. Let's face it, he's burning out and loving it."
"Don't say things like that Malcolm. This is all he has ever wanted. You know he would rather die than give this up."
"You heard what Dr. Marshall said. He will die if he keeps going."
Malcolm and Azariel. The two leaders of Darkest Fallen. They had kicked me out of the group when they had noticed my downward spiral. Why couldn't they just drop it and leave me alone?
"Get out," Eric whispered from around the tube that was helping him breathe. He couldn't take much more of this.
"Did you hear that? I think he's wakeing up," Malcolm said from the foot of the bed.
Eric felt a breath of air against his cheek as someone leaned close. "Eric? Are you awake?" Azariel asked in her husky voice.
"Get out," Eric repeated slightly louder. Eric's eyes opened to a slit. Azariel's pale face and blonde hair was suspended over Eric's head. Malcolm stood at the foot of the bed his dark skin seemed to shine in the moonlight that shone through the window.
Malcolm spoke in his deep baritone voice, "You heard him, he doesn't want us here."
Azariel looked quickly at Malcolm with a glare, "He doesn't mean that. You don't mean that do you Eric?"
Eric reached up with a swollen arm and roughly pulled the tube from his throat, "GET OUT!" He shouted as loud as he could, which amounted to little more than normal volume.
"See he doesn't want to be around us any more. Well Eric, wish granted. 'Cause we don't wanna be around you any more either," Malcolm said as he stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Eric flenched as something wet hit his face. "One day you'll come back to us Eric. I know you will," Azariel said as she quickly left the room.
Eric reached a hand up to the liquid on his face. He ran a few fingers through it and held the fingers up into the light. Tears?
"Azariel! Wait," He said as he felt his voice crack. Azariel was already gone. . .or his voice had fallen on deaf ears.
----------------------------------
Over the next few days Eric slipped in and out of consciousness at the drop of a hat. One moment he would be awake listening in on the nurses conversation, and the next the room would be empty. He lost track of the time as he lay there in the bed with nothing for company except the cream colored walls and the pink thermal blankets.
One night he awoke, and immediately knew someone else was in the room. He tried to keep his breathing under control and gather as much information as he could about the intruder. "You don't have to pretend to be asleep Mr. Boxer. I know you are awake," The mysterious intruder said with no trace of emotion in his voice.
"What do you want?" Eric said, his voice cracking.
"You made a mistake killing the boy. Freedom Corps isn't going to back you on this one. We are terminating your heroing license at the end of the week,"The voice said with out any accent, inflection, or emotion. The guy was good.
"Your'e serious? I'm dying, bud. Doesn't really seem as important to me now," Eric bluffed trying to see if the guy would take the bait and let something slip.
"Come now Mr. Boxer, there is no reason to hide your trueself any longer. That is only what is going to go on the official report. We have improved your Cy-Tech suit. It will no longer cause the amount of strain you are used to. The suit will help repair the damage you have caused to your body over the years, if you do the job we want you to do the suit is yours. No strings attached," The voice said with nothing behind it, making it impossible to tell if the voice was lying.
"This job will be?" Eric asked. His mouth began to salivate at the prospect of a new, better suit.
"We are going to send you to the Ziggursky. We have reason to believe lord Recluse is moving his forces into position to stage a mass breakout. We want you to be one of the people he unintentionally releases. You will feed us information on the inner workings of Arachnos. If confronted we will not help you. You will be alone," The voice said this as if it were the simplest thing in the world.
"Done. When do I get the suit?" Eric asked antisipation evident in his voice.
"You will leave within two days. The paperwork for your transfer will state that your suit will be sealed onto your body and depowered. In actuality the suit will be removable, and it will only be functioning at ten percent of it's total power allowing you more than enough to keep up with the depowered inmates," The voice made itself very clear on the points of the suit.
"I accept. I will leave when ordered." Eric let his head fall back on his pillow. A wide smile breaking out on his face.
"And remember. You will be a villain. All of your old friends will be forced to fight you if you decide to contact them."
Eric's smile deepened as the door closed. His life was looking better allready.
I do not know my reasons for posting, but post I must. ~~Build
"We can't stop here, this is bat country."
--Johnny Depp
"I ain't bi-curious, I'm a man. Why do you think I'm wearing this tight spandex and got all these muscles?" Meatwad
The fist seemed to move like a semi-truck, and Justice moved like a racecar. He ducked the blow as it narrowly missed his head. He reached up and grabbed the muscular brutes arm and flipped over it, placing a well rounded kick into the brute's eye socket. The brute took half a step and began laughing.
"That all you got hero? My mama hits harder than that and she's dead!" The Brute screamed as he rushed forward.
Eric had spent two days going through prisoner transport and another going through the Ziggursky's orientation. He had officially been an inmate for a whole two minutes before one of the people he had put behind bars attacked him. Justice had been expecting the attack, he always expected a fight.
"Yeah well your mama obviously knows how to fight better than you do since you haven't even landed a single blow," Justice taunted as he surveyed the group of cheering, depowered metas that had surrounded them. He could hear someone taking bets toward the back of the group. They weren't giving him good odds.
Justice slid across the ground, performing a move that was like a crouching uppercut to the Brute's valuables. The Brute let out a harsh exhalation of breath as he grabbed at his juevos.
"That the best you can do? I thought heros were supposed to be honorable, fight clean?" The Brute questioned as he started to get back up.
"I ain't that type of hero. Why should I fight clean? I mean this is a prison for villains and since I'm here I must be what it takes to make a badguy," Justice retorted as he brought a knee up with a crunch to the Brute's chin.
The brute crumpled over and lay on the ground, obviously unconscious. Eric looked around at the rest of the group. "Is there anyone else that has a problem with me? 'Cause if there is let's go ahead and settle it here," Eric said holding his hands out in a challenging gesture.
The villains laughed a little at the challenge and dispersed talking amongst themselves about the gall of the former hero. Eric turned around and kneeled down beside the fallen brute. He reached out a hand and grabbed the brutes shoulder, he got a sudden sense of deja vu.
"Now what gave you the bright idea to try and fight me?" Eric said with genuine curiosity.
The Brute stirred, "You don't have a very good memory do you? March twenty-eighth, two thousand and four. Bank robbery, took the villain out in six minutes. Villain was sent to court and convicted on charges of assault, intent to cause bodily harm, and attempted robbery of a federal establishment. What you didn't know was that my mom was dieing. Liver cancer, I needed the money to pay for a transplant. My MOM DIED BECAUSE OF YOU!" The Brute leapt up with that final statement, bringing a fist around trying to hit Eric.
Eric brought the heel of his hind down on the villains nose, breaking it and dropping the villain back down. "There is no excuse for what you or I have done in our pasts. Leave it at that, and get on with your life. I'm truly sorry about your mom, I know it won't change anything," Eric said feeling sorry for the man.
"What's your name?" Eric asked as he held out a hand to the brute.
The brute looked dubiously at the hand before accepting the offered help, "My name doesn't matter anymore. All that matters is that I am inmate 226804. Let's leave it at that."
"Justice Reborn, inmate 289063. And you just made the worst move you could have made," He said as the Brute levered himself off the floor.
"What do you mean?" The brute asked as a look crossed his face.
"You haven't fought anybody in here before, have you? You see, now the others know your strength. That means the stronger ones will want to hurt you, and the weaker ones want to fight you to prove they are stronger than they are," Eric explained. It was much the same in the heroing society even though they would never admit it.
The brute looked around and noticed the hungry looks in some of the other's eyes, "I see what you mean. How am I gonna fix it?"
Eric laughed a little, "The same way we do it in Paragon, get a group. You probably won't find anyone around here that will want to group with you now. So I offer my partnership, since I'm new here and have more than a few that want to put me in the morgue."
The brute grunted a little, "I don't really fancy grouping with you. But it doesn't look like I have a choice. I suppose you will need something better to call me than a number then. My name is Rix Marco, but I'm better known as Harbreaker."
"Harbreaker it is then. I think if we get one more, we'll be golden," Eric said as he looked around for someone who didn't look like they wanted blood. He noticed a girl who couldn't have been over sixteen sitting in her cell. She had been watching the exchange of names but blushed and hastily looked away when Eric's gaze found her.
Eric smiled a little to himself, "I think we found our third."
He walked toward her, his boots making a thumping noise against the corrugated floor. He lay his right hand against the bars to the girls cell and leaned his head within. "Hi, kiddo. Name's Justice. You don't look like you belong in a place like this. Me and that big guy with all the tattoos have formed a little partnership, and we are looking for a third. You interested?" He asked a little embarassed for the girl as she sheepishly ran a hand through her ebony hair.
"My name is Runemira. I guess I can help if you want me too. That is if you can't find anyone better," she said as avoided looking him in the face. She ran a hand selfconsciously over her orange jumpsuit.
"Yo, Harbreaker! She's in," Justice said motioning the brute over. After the introductions have been given the three heard a harsh call as the warden spoke over the loudspeaker.
"Lights out in thirty seconds, those who aren't in their cells will find their stay in the infirmary unpleasant at best."
Justice ruffled Runemira's hair as he walked out of her cell and went to his own. The only thing he could think of was how much the girl reminded him so much of Azariel as the lights went out and he lay down on his bed.
--------------------------------------
A few days later Justice was sitting in his cell looking over a few letters sent to him. One was from Paul, and said how everyone was doing. The other was from Azariel, and said simply:
Justice, I'm sorry for the way things ended that day in the hospital. I hope that the environment in the Zigg isn't that bad, even though I know it is and you would never tell he how hard it is on you. Malcolm still won't talk about you, he avoids the subject with a skill I didn't know he had. I am calling in every favor I have to get your case reviewed. Maybe we can get you out of there soon, then we can go to that coffee shop you like.
--Mistress of the Light Arts, Azariel
Justice crumpled the letter up and threw it across the room. He thought about it for a second and stood up to retrieve the letter. His feet were taken out from under him as an explosion rocked the Prison.
"Guess they weren't lying when they said Arachnos was going to pull this crap. I was starting to get bored." Eric thought as the power flickered a few times and the emergency generators kicked on.
I do not know my reasons for posting, but post I must. ~~Build
"We can't stop here, this is bat country."
--Johnny Depp
"I ain't bi-curious, I'm a man. Why do you think I'm wearing this tight spandex and got all these muscles?" Meatwad
The door to his cell was ripped off the hinges as a massive, eight foot form appeared in the door. The man was wearing the standard orange jumpsuit, and had tattoos crisscrossing over every visible part of his body including his face and the back of his head. The thing that stood out above everything else was his face, which belied his age.
His face said he was nowhere near grown and belonged to a teenager. "Justice, looks like something is happening. We gotta get Runemira and see whats happening!" Harbreaker said as he lay one massive hand on the scrapper's shoulder.
Eric nodded and pulled his orange jumpsuit away from his Cy-Tech armorskin. He stood, barely rising to the massive brutes bicep, and walked out of the door surveying the hallway for danger. To normal people the scenes of violence would be appaling, but to the seasoned ex-hero it was nothing he hadn't seen before.
He pushed his back against the wall as a troll wrestled a guard to the ground a placed a well measured punch to the side of the guard's head. Eric looked over his shoulder at Harbreaker and noticed a disconcerting look in the brutes eye. The brute was hungry for blood, but for now that would have to wait.
Eric grabbed the brute's elbow, "No time for it now, we gotta get to the girl."
The brute gave an affirmative nod as he fell in behind the scrapper. Eric continued along the wall, his hand running over the rought iron bars of vacated cells as the hanging lights over head flickered. After walking past four cells they came to the aforementioned girl's living quarters.
The inside of the cell appeared as black as night, as if no light could reach into the darkness. "Runemira? You in there?" the scrapper asked as he reached a hand toward the darkness. The almost fluid black seemed to cling to his hand, causing him to feel as if something bad waited on the other side.
"It's me, Justice. That you?" As soon as he had spoke his name the darkness seemed to lessen several shades, allowing him to make out a form huddled on the only bunk in the room.
"What's happening? I heard a boom, and then the lights went out for a second. I can't be in the dark. Bad things come in the dark," Runemira said as the ex-hero saw tears glisten in the corner of the girl's eyes.
Eric placed a hand on each side of her cell door and wrenched with all of his technologically enhanced strength. The bars gave a groan as they snapped away from their iron holdings. He heard a click behind him as a guard cocked thier gun and sighted it with the back of the scrapper's blue and white mask.
The ex-hero grunted as he threw the gate at the guard. The guard gave out a short squeal as the gate hit him in the chest and a massive fist came from nowhere and nailed him in the back of his head. The guard fell to the ground as Harbreaker stood to his full height, "What would you guys do without me? Comeon we gotta get outa here, like now!"
The sounds of guards shouting, prisoners roaring, and a strange noise began to fill the walls of the prison. Eric nodded at the brute as he led Runemira out of her cell and proceeded on their way toward where the sound of the explosion had originated. Any guards that stepped in their way were dealt with swiftly and without prejudice as the scrapper released with kicks and the brute assaulted with massive punches.
They walked into a guards workroom, several deactivated police drones lay in the corner and a massive hole was blown in the floor. A man with an eye patch hurriedly motioned them towards the hole as he through a chair at a guard's face.
Eric jumped down the hole and landed in ankle deep sewage. "I always seem to end up in the sewers," the scrapper thought as the brute landed with a splash beside him. He turned and held his hands toward the waiting girl. She hopped into the waiting arms of the ex-hero as the brute motioned impatiently for them to hurry.
Eric deposited the girl on the only dry pathway in the sewer and they followed the waterflow. They had crested a dip in the drainage system and froze as three Arachnos maces were leveled at them. "So that's what that sound was," the scrapper thought as he threw his hands in the air in a placating motion.
The Arachnos soldiers noticed the colors of the two jumpsuits. "Proceed through the activities yard to find the Arachnos flier," said the leader of the group as he motioned toward the grate that covered the exit.
The three convicts walked past the soldiers trying not to make eye contact. Harbreaker placed one giant hand against the grate and gave a shove. The grate flew off as if it were hit with a battering ram. The brute stepped into the opened air, turned, and helped the other two out of the stink.
The brute whipped his head from side to side looking at the action going on around them as inmates fought guards, and Arachnos fought them both. "Looks like I get to have some fun after all," The brute stated as he moved toward a group of orange clad Skulls.
Eric sighed at the inexperienced brute. Luckily enough, most of the superpowered beings that had been betting on their fight a few days earlier were nowhere to be found. The scrapper shrugged as he waded into the fray, fighting along side the brute was actually enjoyable.
They fought their way through a seemingly endless hoard of enemies, often falling back to help Runemira. They eventually found their way to the Flier and were roughly shoved aboard. The two men sat on either side of the girl offering her protection from the press of the others on the flier.
"Now what happens?" Eric wondered as he looked at the others that surrounded them, all of whom looked dangerous.
I do not know my reasons for posting, but post I must. ~~Build
"We can't stop here, this is bat country."
--Johnny Depp
"I ain't bi-curious, I'm a man. Why do you think I'm wearing this tight spandex and got all these muscles?" Meatwad
Eric sighed as the wind whipped around the closed door to the flier. Runemira moved closer to him, gripping his left arm. He looked down at her, she seemed to be staring across at a heavily clothed figure in a corner of the aircraft. The scrapper tried to keep his face pointed toward the girl and let his eyes wander to the figure.
The figure was heavily garbed in coarse black rags, his face masked from view. "He was the worse one, he wanted to see what made me tick," Runemira's voice spoke inside of Boxer's mind, making him realize he knew nothing more than the names of his two accomplices.
The HUD on the inside of the lenses that covered Eric's eyes seemed to flash. A new icon popped up and he discovered that focusing his eyes on the icon made it open up. He heard a voice begin to speak, the same voice from the night in the hospital, "Good day Mr. Boxer."
"It appears that you have left the powerdampening field of the prison. Congratulations are in order for your survival, be warned the situation will only get worse from here. Arachnos will put you through a trial period in which they will want you to complete some small tasks before allowing you admittance into their organization. Best of luck in that regard, none of our other agents have been able to survive the preliminary missions.
Now that your suit is able to operate at it's optimum, you will find that half power is best suited for normal encounters. Any higher settings will have adverse affects on your body and mind. This is your HUD," As the voice said the command several icons appeared to the sides of the villain's vision.
"As you will notice; you have a navigation bar at the top of your vision, a power tray to influence your suits muscle amplification, a tray that controls the beneficiary commands, and a sniper view to allow long range viewing of targets. A note on muscle amplification: If you over use it the effects your old suit had on you will seem as nothing compared to the pain you will feel. Remember you will be on an island, you look a little pale--try to get some sun," With that last sarcastic comment (The first sign of humanity the voice had shown thus far) the recording finished.
All the while the recording had been playing the other villains had been finding a comfortable position to 'enjoy' the ride (The snores from Harbreaker could attest to this). Some had taken the opportunity to question their impromptu 'saviors', especially one loud mouthed villain in a corner who was being ignored by their black and red clad soldier.
The scrapper snorted as the soldier reached across and planted his rifle butt in the loud mouth's stomach. The loud mouth grunted and clutched at his mid section. "That one won't last too long if he keeps that up," he thought as he relaxed in his seat.
-----------------------------
Forty-five minutes later the flier landed at Mercy Island. They were deposited at an Arachnos fort, a red and black clad fortunata stood on a pedastal a little ways from an Archon clad only in white. As a soldier pulled the door closed behind the now awake Harbreaker, the soldier muttered something along the lines of, "Two days and we'll run out of body bags looking at this lot."
A couple of soldiers were motioning the assembled villains toward four large crates of random clothing peices. Eric motioned his two counterparts toward the crates, "Let's get you two some clothing a little more fitting for these isles."
Eric began making a path through the large group of villains, some of them none too pleased as they cast angry glares at the man's back. The scrapper reached into one of the grates and pulled out a giant hand full of clothing. As he turned away a skeletal hand landed on his fore arm.
"Mind leaving some for the rest of us? Or are your needs greater than ours?" Said a voice like hell froze over.
The former hero followed the hand to a face that seemed to have rotted from within leaving the eyes milky white and the lips pulled back, with in the mouth the tounge was bloated and black. Eric wondered how something so obviously dead could be alive. . .before he remembered the Vahzilok, "Look man, We're villains, it's survival of the fittest."
"I'm dead and I'm still walking around. Obviously I am more fit than you," the skeletal man said as he seemed to fade from existence.
The ex-hero's eyes widened, he had seen tricks like this done by fellow heros but nothing as complete as this. His Heads Up Display flased red as an arrow indicated a threat from behind. Justice dove forward, narrowly evading a fist covered in dark energy.
He rolled across the ground, spilling the clothing, as dark punches raining down around him. He snapped his lower body up onto the palms of his hands, shifting his weight he flipped into the air over the dead man's head. Halfway through the voice he heard a mechanical voice speak in his ear, "Adjusting suit parameters to fit situation. Output is now fifty-five percent."
Justice smiled as his reflexes were amplified. He landed hard, both booted feet making a loud crack on the ground. He rotated his left fist around aiming to lay the back of his fist against the Stalker's temple. Before his fist could connect, he saw the Stalker begin to fade. He turned fast, too fast. The knuckles on his fist connected with the villains jaw, spinning his body around and snapping his head to the side.
He reached out both muscular hands, catching the sides of the dead man's head inn each one. He squeased inwards, the man's skull first cracked then squished. He dropped the body and turned to the rest of the group, "Anybody else say I can have any clothes??"
Noone said anything as he picked up the clothing and walked back to his two team mates. He looked first at one, then at the other. Harbreaker had a look on his face like he just recieved a new toy at Christmas, and Runemira couldn't meet Justice's gaze.
"Dude, that had to be one of the coolest things I've ever seen. You think you could show me how to do that," Harbreaker asked with a twinkle in his eye.
"No can't do it, against my code of ethics," The scrapper said as he handed the brute some leather armor that was wrapped with chains. The brute hurriedly slipped on the chained boots, chained gloves, and rough leather pants. Justice smiled as he tossed Runemira a blackleather jacket, a t-shirt, a pair of biker boots, and some padded armor pants.
"Now seeing as we have some propper clothing let's ask the Fortunata what is expected of us." Eric said as he approached the red and black clad Arachnos operative. Looks like I'm officially in the machine now.
I do not know my reasons for posting, but post I must. ~~Build
"We can't stop here, this is bat country."
--Johnny Depp
"I ain't bi-curious, I'm a man. Why do you think I'm wearing this tight spandex and got all these muscles?" Meatwad
((Decided to take a break from my DWC thread for awhile and write about one of me lesser known characters))
Eric Boxer sat on the edge of his bed holding his Cy-Tech mask in his hand. The sounds of King's Row were echoing through his open window giving him a preview of the night's activities he knew he wouldn't be able to avoid no matter how hard he tried.
His gift was both a blessing to those he saved and a curse to himself. He had lost loved ones because of his own actions and because of the actions of those who want to cause him harm. His lengthy brown hair hung down around his strong featured face as he tightened his grip on his mask.
Everytime he put the suit on it took a toll on his body afterward. He cast a baleful look at his costume were it was kept in a silver atache case at the foot of his bed. Over the years of his career he had tried to throw away his costume more than once and put his past behind him so he could continue with his life.
His mind wandered to his ex-girlfriend. Jenna had figured out his night life a few days before the breakup. She finally had a reason behind the multitude of scars across his body and his perpetual tardyness. She had walked out in a fury after he had told her of his inability to quit the heroing lifestyle.
His knuckles turned white as he gripped the mask with ferocity. He raised his hand and threw the mask with all of his strength across the room to lay piled atop some forgotten magazenes. He stood angrily and punched a hole through the wall behind his bed. The muscles in his body had become steel like in comparison to a normal man's, the wall simply couldn't stand to against the type of punishment dealt against it.
His breathing had become irregular as he cast an angry glare at the answering machine. His Freedom Corps doctor had called earlier in the day when Eric had been out taking down a local Skul group. Eric quickly punched the play button on the answering machine to make sure he hadn't mistaken what the good Doc had said.
There was a beep before the deep voice of the doctor spoke through the phone. "Eric, it's me Dr. Marshall. Your case study has come back. It's not good. Your body can't take the continual strain that your suit puts on both your circulatory and muscular system. I'm thinking of your well being, Eric. You can't keep going out night after night like this. I'm telling you this as a friend. You will die if you continue. There is no other option, you have to stop. . .I want you to come back in. We may be able to find another way, run a few more tests."
There was a beep as the answering machine went dead. Eric angrily slammed a fist into the answering machine crushing it to a mass of broken plastic. Eric held his hand infront of his face and watched as blood welled up from the scratches the plastic had made when he had brought his fist down. He hastily began picking the plastic out of the wound.
He sat back down on the edge of the bed and opened the case. Inside his blue and white costumed seemed to mock him with it's cleanliness and bright coloring. He roughly moved it aside and retrieved a role of stripped gauze and sports tape. He quickly wrapped his fingers, but he couldn't seem to take his eyes off of his suit.
His hands shook as he reached forward and brought out the light, unreasonably tough traditional hero wear. He stretched it across the full length of his bed. As he stood, the sounds of the night abruptly changed as police sirens began to blaze across the night. His Police Ban began to vibrate with an ominous buzzing across his desk.
He stripped his street clothes off and pulled his Cy-Tech skin armor over his six foot, very athletic frame. He had made it to his window before he remembered the final part of his curse. He walked across the room and picked the blue and white mask which would give his face the final touch of remoteness as he battled his foes. He stretched the mask between his fingers.
"Looks like we will never be rid of each other," was the only sentiment he left behind himself as he pulled the blue and white mask over his face and leapt out of the third story window into the ominous night.
He was no longer Eric Boxer, the twenty-three year old who's life was falling apart. He was the hero who struck fear into all those who sought to do wrong in his city. He was Justice Reborn.
I do not know my reasons for posting, but post I must. ~~Build
"We can't stop here, this is bat country."
--Johnny Depp
"I ain't bi-curious, I'm a man. Why do you think I'm wearing this tight spandex and got all these muscles?" Meatwad