My name is Jessica Chambers...and I'm the fastest woman alive. I'm what's called a Metahuman, an individual with supercyclic DNA that causes fluctuations that basically lead to metabolical and/or cellular abnormalities. These abnormalities happen to just be darn near god like manifestations of all sorts of abilities. And mine....mine was literally handed down from my parents. Strength from madre, speed from padre. Since I was 11 years old I'd knew about these powers, and my parents did their best to guide me in a way of light so that I would never run into darkness. Dad even gave his life in the very same path...but this...
This was just insane. And I felt like no one knew about it but me.
I stood underneath a metal pillar supporting the train tracks above my head that ran through Manhattan. Gold sparks of lightning flicker around me for split seconds before coming to a halt. Full in uniform, I zip to the tracks above in a blink, more lightning sparking around me. I shake my head in disbelief at the sight across the street. I thought I was going crazy. It was my high school, but it wasn't my high school at all. It was right where my school is...or was? The block, the square feet, all of it was exactly the same. However, the structure, the colors, and the landscape was all different. I knew my old high school, the one I used to walk around in, laugh and talk to friends in, that I used to crush on boys in (discreetly), but this new building that had come overnight threw me for a loop. This was a high school, but upon seeing the name Midtown High,I scratched my head at knowing it literally was never here until that moment.
Now here I was, looking at yet another one of these energy rifts. This made the 3rd one that I've found so far. The first in Gotham City. I'd come to the conclusion after the 1st rift that no one else can see these rifts, seeing as how one was in the middle of the street in Times Square and people were walking by it, and even through it. The rift had no effect on the people whatsoever, and I can't just walk up to them and touch them in civilian clothing unless I wanted to expose what I was to the world. I finally managed to find myself a rift that was secluded, in the yards of some academy for "gifted youngsters" upstate New York that I never heard of. From my prior knowledge of the last one it seemed to emit some sort of quantum yet subatomic energy, aka dimensional. As in the energy is a separation of time and space. Once I'd tapped into the Speed Force for the first time I learned that the two are negligible when it compares to the actual point in which both meet. These rifts reminded me a lot of that, and it seems they are the point in which both meet has clashed with another point in which time and space meet....again. Confusing, I know.
I was too paranoid to say anything to mom right now, not like she was the speedster anyways. She wouldn't have the slightest of what's going on. I log the GPS location of this new rift I found and I put it in my Notes app on my phone with the others. I walk down the sidewalk of Downtown Gotham blocks from the university, making my way to a store to get my usual dose of an energy drink and some Doritos. Balancing this hidden Meta life along with college classes and endless thesis papers, All the speed in the world won't help me outrun this lag of life I'm experiencing. Between asking people what happened to my old high school and them not remembering, and these rifts... I started to suspect something was moving in this universe. Something big.
I walk into the store, with the clerk giving me a smile. I return a mild one and push up my glasses as I lock an eye on some Red Bull and a bag of chips. Not even seconds later the door chimes as another person enters, and in broad daylight my attention from my snacks are interrupted by the shouts of a man in a hoodie with his hood up wearing a skull cap. He flashes a snub .38 in the petrified clerk's face. I freeze in my tracks, the con doesn't even know I'm there. Didn't bother to look around! Jeez. I look around myself to make sure no one else was in here. There wasn't. Without another nanosecond I watch the world around me slow down to almost stop-mo as I run to ram the man out the way, while taking the time to remove the gun from his grip, empty the chambers, and toss them in the trash. I make a concise point to return directly to the exact spot and posture I was in before I ran, as time resumes as normal and the man flies across the floor with gold lightning flashing across the store. I push up my glasses with a finger onto my eyes and slowly creep to look at the unconscious man. The clerk looks at me surprised, and I fake an expression of the same.
"Whoa....what did you do!?" Clerk: "I din' do nothin! One moment I'm looking at the gun the next...he flies across the floor knocked out!!! I...wait, I could....could I be a....one of those meta-thingys the news speculates on?? Hah!! Maybe it WAS me!!!" "....Yeah, either way...you should probably call someone, and here's the money for my items. I'm going to go now. You have fun Mr. Metaman." Clerk: "Hmm! Yeah of course, be on your way citizen! I have this under control! Have a great day!...wait, I may need a witness!!!"
I was already gone. Long gone, and I thought the day couldn't get any more weirder. I begin walking back to the college to where my dorm was, Martha Wayne Residence Hall. Once there, another day filled with studying for class and whatever the heck is going on. Just another day in the life of Jesse Quick, a nickname dad used to call me.
_____________________________________________________________LATER THAT NIGHT
My eyes are droopy as I literally drop in and out of consciousness. I'd been up for about the past 38 hours now. The good thing about being a speedster was the increased metabolic process, as well as cellular. I could sleep for 2 hours and feel well rested as if I slept 8 full hours. But for right now I had to finish this research thesis if I was going to get this national grant from the Wayne Foundation. My paper was "The Impact of Superheroes on Society." It was one that I'd started a year ago when I started college. Almost 12 months later I have national recognition from state officials, politicians, heck even senators, science experts, psychologists, and the President them self. Such with that came the everlasting pressure on me. I'd read 2 psychology textbooks full through today just to help me more on this paper. Sounds like a lot, but I actually read both in about 2 minutes...how about that speed eh?
It's not like I could use it elsewhere, I mean...I could use it, but I don't want to. The world is full up enough as it is with vigilantes and superheroes, with a fair share of villains as well. The LAST thing I needed was being exposed as the daughter of Johnny Quick and Liberty Belle. Dad was dead and mom was in a very secretive lifestyle. Only a handful knew that I was her daughter, only a bit more even knew she had a kid which is why she left her cape and bell behind. Thinking about her and the sacrifice dad made gave me a small burst of energy. I look out at the night sky, as if dad was listening.
"Okay...finish this paper."
I brush a missing persons poster out of the way I found earlier to get to my psychology notes and newspaper clippings of superhero related events. Most of them were Justice League stuff. That's all the world cared about anyways. Superman this, Wonder Woman that, and oh God the debates on if The Bat was real or not. I shook my head at the thoughts. The Flash was real though, this much I knew for a fact. Dad used to run with the old Flash...pun intended. His name was Jay Garrick I think, but after he ended up missing or something, everyone thought Flash was dead...until he wasn't. Until one day Flash appeared again in new suit; it was bright red and yellow as opposed to the crimson shirt and metal bowl for a hat. Something told me this wasn't Jay, but I never got to see his face behind the mask. He was too fast for even me at the time. Rumor has it is that he's dead for real now, but you never know with heroes. I start typing up my paper->
The Impact of Superheroes on Society.
By Jessica Belle Chambers
Gotham University
We can't take a look at the psychological influence of heroes and their superhero feats without also looking at where they came from, and why they hold so much of an impact on society. Some argue that superheroes are integral to world society. This claim comes from the reflection of American social change in many superhero endeavors since 1938, also assisting in the increased popularity and renown of the great in superheroes. World War II prompted The Nazi era famous Hitler-punching heroes such as The Watchmen (first gen) and the Justice Society, and with the coming of The War on Terror following September 11, The Batman's myth dealt with government oversight, akin to current issues of government surveillance or US foreign policy led by the presence of Superman and Wonder Woman. Superman educated children about unaccounted landmines in former Yugoslavia, not a superhero feat, but a very human thing to do as if he were a teacher, and technological changes in the 21st century manifested most noticeably in the current development of Wayne Tech & Lex Corp sponsored products, both of which have been endorsed and condemned by superheroes.
Very human elements in heroes have also addressed societal issues, with the revelation in of some heroes being homosexual reflecting changing views on homosexuality. However this has not always been carried out in what would be called an ethical manner, with some citizens and figures appealing to the masses, for example, by introducing the idea of a Batwoman as a "lipstick lesbian". Bullying, Racial tensions, you name it...all have been directly influenced by a catalyst of diverse and spectrumized group of heroes and vigilantes. So these and the evolution of superheroes have reflected historical trends and addressed societal problems, but what about the narrower relationship to the individual, rather than the wider community? Importantly, the relationship between them and societal factors is not unidirectional, with a strong direct impact on individuals. Did you think the Green Arrow woke up one day and said "Hey, I want to become the world's best archer and protect my citizens from the terror of the world. Why? For no apparent reason..." Nope, he did not. There were preceding events in this world of the mighty and unknown, some would even say he worshiped the idea of Batman which led to his Robin Hood spin off on the vigilante he's become.
It is not an unusual sight to see a child running through the yard with a Batman or Superman cape, battling imaginary supervillains and saving the world, one treehouse at a time. Pretend play is an important part of a child's development between ages two and seven and is often greatly impacted by the concept of superheroes. Pretend play helps children learn language and develop an understanding of theory of mind (that others may have a different perspective to themselves), and allows the expression of emotions, both negative and positive. But, what about the rest of us? What do WE cling to? Since the arrival of the idea of superheroes beginning in the WW2 era, this psychological dependency and emotional stimulation has increased by factor of 52% alone on the topic of dependency and relativity of a singular subject, in this case, superheroes. Total percentage of every action, event, trending topic, motive, and inspiration regarding said idea (again superheroes) being the #1 reason of causality (state in which something occurs) ...get this, a whopping 616%. Unbelievable. Now you tell me, because I'm not here to debate positive vs negative impact. Millions of lives have been saved, places, days...yet also lives have been lost, bartered, compromised...and places...well-beings, sanity too. But I digress, you tell me... does this impact seem like more that a iconic idealization to you? Or can we all agree that we're starting to see the crater of an influence that it really is...one that is addicting like a drug? Or maybe...one that is as embracing as a worldwide phenomena linking and uniting all of us together in solidarity?
You be the judge.
I hit save on my laptop and high five myself at the killer last touches I put on my paper. Hopefully Bruce Wayne, Lex Luthor, Ray Palmer, or heck even Ted Kord would see this as interesting and offer me some sponsorship. STAR Labs would obviously be the ideal dream. I wanted to add the death of some superheroes to it....like dad, but I heard these things lose points if you make it personal. I take a deep sigh and look out the window again as the sun starts to rise. I smile, seeing dad's face in the sky like an illusion. I get a text on my phone from one Archimedes Grant, a rich young snob I have to tutor from time to time because his folks spoil him to the point he feels he doesn't have to get good grades because he's basically a multi millionaire and when he does they smile and buy the best tutor money can buy. Such arrogance and ignorance, and yet he'd probably still get in to Yale. Ugh.
Arch Grant=> 'Hey J Bell, ma said that I should text you so you can stop by later and tutor me? She'll pay you your rate plus a little extra, got a boring ass physics text coming up :/ anyways, maybe we can Netflix and Tutor? ;) '
I roll my eyes and put my phone down at the snot's little text. He was only three years younger than me but I swear I've seen zygotes with more maturity than him. I hit the bed and get some sleep, knowing my naps will only be 3 hours tops, and I'll feel back in the zest of life once again. That and I'll need about 10,000 calories to consume today. Which is everyday actually. I'm surprised my roommate isn't back yet, she usually is. She said she had to do something about her friend whom she hasn't seen in a while, and no one seems to know where she's went. Probably decided to drop out of the hell called college and live a happy life. Wouldn't blame her. Slowly but surely, my eyes fall into a quick, deep sleep.
My name is Stephanie Brown... and I'm the coolest girl alive. No, not really. Do people really stay stuff like that about themselves? Seems a little conceited if you ask me. And, you probably are, because though I'm narrating this in my head, it's possible I'm also talking out loud. I do that sometimes. So far, only when I'm alone or around people I'm really comfortable with.
Which is good, because not only do people not think I'm crazy, they don't get to find out about my secret identity.. identities. I've went through a few names behind the cape. It's a long story.
That's about to enter a new chapter. After struggling with part-time classes, part-time jobs, and part time vigilante justice, I finally seem to have gotten my big break. I'd been pretty well spamming the country with applications for scholarships, because hey, I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and dog gone it, people like me. Well, the spam finally paid off - that's got to be a first for spam doing any good - and I landed a full boat scholarship to National City University. I had to actually look them up to find out where they were.
Big college, good rep. Buut it's in California. I've been a Tri-State area girl all my life, sometimes in Jersey, sometimes in New York. So, going to the west coast, well, it's going to be a big move for me.
And I can't exactly do it in this costume. The whole Bat-franchise has always been a Gotham thing, with occasional dips into surrounding areas. Now don't get me wrong, I loved being Batgirl... or one of the Batgirls, at one time there were three of us running around at once. Charlie's Angels, much?
But I don't want to make waves, or cause confusion in California, so I have some super tailoring to do.
Plus, I need a cool new name. Former sidekicks of the Bat often get neat new names like Nightwing. Sometimes not so neat. I mean Red Robin, really? A little imagination please?
I think it over for a long time, and play with designs, incorporating bits of my various costumes from over the years, and finally... it looks done.
National City, prepare to meet the Heron.
What, you didn't think just because I moved and got a full time gig at a college that I'd stop the crime fighting, right?
I even have my own jam. A song from one of my favorite singers. Check it.
Police sirens wailed through the streets as the multiple squad cars sped through the busy streets, urging civilians to get out of their path they weren't injured by accident. The whole of the NYPD had heard about the bank robbery over the police radio, but they were still unable to believe it. A man in a giant robotic suit just strolls into a bank, manages to hack into the server and transfers thousands of dollars from each of the vaults to a remote account that the police couldn't access? Either the man who orchestrated the break-in was a genius, or he was just as screwed up as everyone else in this city. Despite not knowing anything about the robot-suit or the man controlling it, the police force did know that it was their job to stop the robotic criminal before he could escape. But, given the fact that the suit was just a few inches shorter than the size of a fully grown elephant, it was hard to imagine that "losing him" was even possible.
And yet, the criminal had seemingly disappeared shortly before the police showed up. Now, squad cars were roaming the city in a desperate attempt to locate him
"Captain Stacy! Do you copy?" one of the police officers heading northbound called out into his communicator, staring ahead at the road while his partner drove the vehicle. Police Captain George Stacy, who was in a squad car driving westward (to create a perimeter and try to locate the robber), grabbed her police communicator and spoke into it clearly. Carter, can you see the metal-man? Did we find him?" He demanded, his voice calm and full of authority.
"Negative, he's still hiding. But a witness claims she saw the perp heading towards the OSCORP building." Officer Carter asked, looking around at the city nervously. He didn't know wether or not to believe that a man in a gigantic suit of armour was roaming around the city, but after the Lizard incident... He was wiling to expect anything.
Captain Stacy sighed and slammed his hand against the wheel as he continued to drive, frustrated with the apparent lack of success. "Damn! Follow the lead, Carter. If he's headed to OSCORP, than we need to find him."
"Think there's some kind of connection?"
"Doubt it. Norman Osborn might be under a lot of stress dealing with cleanup from the Lizard incident, but he's not about to orchestrate a bank robbery. He's not that type of a man..." Captain Stacy explained before telling all available squad cars to move towards OSCORP. At the very moment he pulled out of the right lane to head for the OSCORP building, a giant robotic man came crashing through the alleyway adjacent to his vehicle. Swinging its arms, the robot sent multiple cars flying, flipping the vehicles and knocking their passengers around dangerously. Captain Stacy had little to to react and soon after watching the robotic man charge towards him, he was flung into the air, screaming at the top of his lungs. He shut his eyes, refusing to see the ground he would soon be impacting against... But instead, he felt himself jerk forwards as he momentum was suddenly stopped. Opening his eyes with confusion, Captain Stacy looked ahead of him, noticing that he was inches away from the ground. Before he could ask what was going on, somebody knocked on his window. Turning his head, he saw the form of a masked man, donned in a red and blue uniform emblazoned with the patten of webbing, a large black spider in the middle of his chest. The masked man motioned for him to roll down the window, turning his hand like a crank. As the police captain obliged, the vigilante began to speak. "Hey! Captain Stacy, right? Alright, I'm gonna make this quick because I gotta go hunt down Mr. Big and Tall over there. First off, I'm a huge fan. Love what you've done for the force. Secondly, you need to tell your men to get civilians out of the way. I'll try to subdue him as fast as I can."
Looking towards the masked man with an expression of shock mixed with confusion, Captain Stacy asked "Who are you?" The masked man, giving him a nod, looked off into the distance and squeezed two of his fingers against his palm, which fired a strand of what resembled webbing towards another flying car, safely catching it in a net like he had done with all the others. Turning his attention back to the Captain, the masked man said "Me? I'm just your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man. Now if you'll excuse me~"
Looking off into the distance again, Spider-Man ran on the roof of the squad car and jumped into the air. Pointing his left hand towards a building, Spider-Man fired off another web and tugged on it, forcing himself to rapidly swing forwards. He continued this action, shifting from the left hand to his right, swinging through the city while he pursued the gargantuan robotic menace currently tearing up the streets. Once he was above the criminal, Spidey dropped out of the air and landed on the robot's shoulder, latching onto the thick metal plating with incredible ease. The robot's head turned to face Spider-Man, who leaned a shoulder against the large man's head and said "Hey, how's it going? Name's Spider-Man. Call me Spidey, "Amazing", just not 'late to dinner', eh? Listen Metal-Head, we need to have a little chat. How's about you pull over and we--
Before he could finish his sentence, Spider-Man was roughly grabbed by the head and tossed forward like a baseball. Once again, Spider-Man had gotten a little cocky and had completely ignored the tingling sensation in the back of his head that warned him of danger. Luckily for him, Spidey managed to flip himself in mid-air and land on his feet, taking up a battle stance as the robotic man stopped in his tracks. "HEY, LUGNUT! Didn't your mother tell you it's rude to interrupt people?" Spider-Man called out. The robotic man simply growled in anger before a deep and booming voice began to speak to the super hero.
"Spider-Man! I've 'eard of ya, punk! You're 't little puke what locked up Shocker!" screamed the man from within the ginormous suit of armour, balling his fists in rage. Smiling under his mask, Spider-Man looked at the criminal and shrugged. "You know "the Cushion"? Man, I haven't seen that guy in months. How's ol'Shocky handling prison?... Actually, I don't want to know. I've seen Shawshank. There's no beating around the bush, he probably got fu-" taunted Spider-Man before the giant metal man rushed towards him. Using his reflexes to his advantage, Spidey jumped out of the way and fired off a blast of webbing at the suit's feet. Easily, the suit tumbled over, landing with an audible thud and leaving a small crater in the ground. "And he's down! Ladies and gentleman, looks like there's a new champion in the ring!"
Pushing himself back up off the ground and tearing the webbing off his feet, the armoured criminal looked at Spider-Man and grunted angrily. "You're jus' as annoyin as they's said you was! I was gon' to try and git outta here, but I think I'd rather kill ya. Got any smart-ass comments about that, Spider?!" the man screamed, looking back at Spider-Man with cautious eyes. The masked hero placed a hand on his chin, pretending like he was thinking. Looking at the criminal, Soider-Man said "Not really, but I do have a question for you, Screw-Head. Do you have a cool super villain name? Everybody's gotta have a cool super name, so if you don't have one then I guess I'll make one up for you. How's "The Rusty Hummer" sound?"
Smashing his fists together menacingly, the criminal only chuckled at Spider-Man's comment and replied "They call me "Juggernaut", Freak. An' right now, I'm gon'a squash ya!" Racing forwards quickly, the Juggernaut swung his massive fists towards Spider-Man, forcing the young hero to jump into the air to dodge the attack. However, Spidey was slammed in the chest by the man's fist when he performed a rather unfair uppercut, but he got Juggernaut back by blasting him in the face with a layer of webbing. While Juggernaut shouted vulgarities towards the hero for blinding him, Spidey got to work. He moved around to the Juggernaut's backside and climbed up his back, looking at the wires on the neck of his costume. Obviously, they were important, so Spidey did what he did best: Mess with the bad guys. "Ooh! What does this wire do?" he called out in a childish voice, quickly ripping one of the wires apart. Instantly, Juggernaut's legs gave out and he collapsed to the ground, still screaming at Spider-Man. "Oops! Hang on, I can fix it!" he exclaimed before he began to rip even more wires out of the suit, deactivating different parts of the costume as it lost power. The arms looked up, them the chest, and finally, the head. Now immobile and rendered completely safe, Spider-Man climbed off of the Juggernaut's body and walked over to his head, tapping on the thick steel plating. "Alright, pumpkin, I gotta go. Playtimes over. Don't worry, though! The cops will be here soon to help bring you to your nice, comfy prison cell, so everything is fine! You might also want to have whoever designed that hunk of junk suit to reconsider the design. I mean, come on. Valuable wires that you can't afford to break? That's basically begging me to tear them out!" Spider-Man explained, kneeling down so he could speak directly to the head. Even though his voice was muffled by the ground, he could make out a few words: "Go", and "Yourself", with a very rude word tossed into the middle of those. Shrugging as he stood up, Spider-Man looked back at the Juggernaut and said "Oh, and say "Hi" to Shocker for me." before he began to spray a message on the side of a nearby building in webbing. Once the message was finished, Spider-Man walked over to a civilian and told her to call the police so they could arrest the Juggernaut. Once everything was sorted, Spider-Man pulled out a smartphone from his utility belt and checked the time. Oh crap, he thought, kicking himself mentally, "I'm gonna be late for school. Again." Running as fast as he could, Spider-Man jumped into the air and began to swing off towards Midtown High, hoping he could get there and change before the first bell rung.
Dear NYPD,
This is "the Juggernaut". I've deactivated his suit of armour by locking its joints, so you should have no problem transporting him to prison. If you're going to get him out of there, I'd recommend using either a can-opener or a buzz saw. That armour's petty thick. It's not Vibranium, but it seems to be a synthetic version of the metal, so you should be able to cut it open. Anyways, hope this helps!
- Your friendly neighbourhood, Spider-Man
PS. Any webbing you see around the city will dry up and fall apart in an hour, so don't worry about cleaning it up. Its all organic and safe for the environment! See? Even super hero's like to help out Mother Earth!
Swinging casually through the city he now called home, Spidey bobbed his head in tune with with song playing over his headphones, which were neatly tucked over his uniform. As the guitar solo, a barrage of "Bow Bow"'s and "Na Na"'s escaped his lips as he jammed along, throwing his left arm out to the side as he fired off another strand of webbing, soaring over the crowded streets below. As he swung by, some people called out his name happily, chanting in support of his fight against crime.
He had ventured down to Gotham just this past summer, having moved into a small apartment down by a place called "Crime Alley" ("Yeah, seriously; they called it 'Crime Alley'. That's like me talking a trip down 'Mugger Way', or ''Bad Guy Boulevard'") and had been attending Gotham University for the past few months. He was studying for a Science Major in Physics while majoring in Photography, and at least thus far, Peter was maintaining an almost perfect record. He was attending classes on time, getting assignments completed when he should, and generally doing what was expected of a College student... All while maintaining his responsibilities as Spider-Man.
The public shift for Spidey was probably the biggest change for the world at large. Seeing as how most people saw the Spider as a symbol of New York, the sudden relocation of the web-head to Gotham City was a bit of a hard pill to swallow. Gotham was already known for its array of dark, brooding vigilantes who stalked the night... But a quick-talking guy who climbs walls and shoots webs? That was practically unthinkable.
As for his job, Peter was still actually working for the Daily Bugle, but he wasn't taking photographs anymore. Instead, he worked as one of the Web-Designers on the Bugle's website, making sure the server was still working while doing weekly maintenance checks. But now that Peter was further from New York, he couldn't really do the whole 'take pictures of Spider-Man' thing anymore. However, he has since taken up as the head photographer for the "Gotham U. Gloss-Over" (the university's free weekly newspaper), often finding himself having to either take photographs of the various on-campus occurrences, or of one of the several vigilantes traversing the rooftops at night (including himself on occasion).
But it was a breath of fresh air! A Brand New Day! A diff--
Spider-Man's spider-sense suddenly went off, shooting a wave of tingles through the back of his skull. "Huh?" Spidey muttered, turning his head around so he could look backwards. However, his web-strand was suddenly cut in half by a mysterious blade that seemed to come out of nowhere. His head shot upwards as the web was cut, but Spider-Man was quick and fired off another strand, pulling himself over to a nearby rooftop.
Taking a moment to figure out what was going on, Spidey scanned the crowd for signs of life before he noticed a strange bird-like man soaring up from the ground, aimed directly at him. Rolling out of the way, Spidey got into a battle-ready stance as he watched the familiar form of Adrian Toomes, aka "The Vulture" soar overhead.
"Hello, Spider. Long time no see."
"Oh, hey Toomes!" Spider-Man replied, staring down the member of his rogues gallery as he tucked his headphones back into his utility belt, "What's up? How's Rykers?"
"Better, now that I'm out."
"Don't suppose there's a chance you were released on good behaviour, huh?"
"Heh. I've missed these little retorts... Shame they'll stop when you're dead."
"So what brings you to Gotham, Baldie? You in the middle of a robbery and thought you'd say hi?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Well... Yeah. That's why I asked."
"Let's just say I got what I came here for."
"Adrian~, didn't they tell you sharing is caring during group therapy?"
"Oooh, I'm going to enjoy this."
"Getting your butt handed to you for the 98th time?" Spider-Man said as he began extending his fingers, ready to fire a blast of webbing at the Vulture, "Yeah, I'm gonna have fun too."
Before Spidey could act, his spider-sense started going nuts again. What? But Baldie hasn't done anything yet. he thought, preparing to attack Vulture just in the off chance he had done something.
But then, the blade-like object that cut his web earlier came back; a small remote-controlled Vulture drone.
Oh crap!
Unfortunately for everyone's friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, some things never change.
It was just another day for me. My alarm beeps and I blindly smash at my phone to stop the alarm. Before a full second could muster I was up and in the bathroom brushing my teeth, gold lightning arcing silently as I did so. This was the perk of not having a roommate. Everything was perfect for me. Privacy, peace, and security from the ways of the world. Especially with everything that's been going on here lately. First the Batman is rumored to go MIA....which is funny considering he's a myth, but now in Gotham there are reports of a red and blue hero swinging through the streets shooting webs like some kind of...spider fetish freak. There were a few pics, not really clear enough to make out full detail, but it interested me. In the dark sector of Gotham, you needed your Batman, your Flash, Superman of course, and the Amazon....but....a web slinging pajama boy? What the hell was happening to this world. This is exactly what my paper is about, the influence of superheroes on society.
What if one day some 4 year old kid wants to be Superman and tries to stop a shooting and dies? It seemed like I was the only one that was looking at the surreal nature of things, and no one else seemed to have looked at it the way I did. And these rifts...remnants of space and time that are out of place. I started to think it could be Flash, but no one has even heard from him since the went toe to toe with Zoom. Mom says he probably got absorbed in the Speed Force...just like dad did. I sigh just thinking about it. I'd definitely have to go check sometime soon, secretly of course. Three rifts, one in Gotham, one in Times Square, and another upstate New York, at that Academy for Gifted Youngster's....Xavier's? I'd never heard it before, how'd it get there? Was that another place like my high school? I graduated from Queens High, but somehow it changed to Midtown. Googled it and no record even shows a Midtown....this is crazy! After about 5 minutes I'd taken a shower, ironed my clothes, put my clothes on, and groomed my hair and gathered my school supplies for class. Being fast had its perks. This was my life now, college and being normal. I had a mind to try to find the Justice League, but they all have been AWOL for quite some time. The closest activity I got was Supergirl, whom was making a name for herself over in National City. I didn't know Kal even had family left, revealing herself to mankind a year ago. Seemed like she was in good hands, I think that organization called the DEO works with her. No one knew the DEO existed, not even me. They're no ARGUS, but they get things done. My phone buzzes as I get an email from STAR Labs. My eyes grow big and I sit down and breath, before opening the message.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Internship
Info: To Ms. Jessica Chambers, Sophomore, Gotham U: Major - Chemical Engineering.
Ms. Chambers,
We have reviewed your application for this term of internship here at STAR Labs, and unfortunately we regret to inform you there are no temp or part time positions open for you. Your academic record speaks volumes beyond recognition and your research thesis on The Impact of Superheroes on Society has garnered you a lot of attention and professional networking from some very high caliber individuals. Sadly as I said there are no temporary nor part time positions...
Because we want you as a full time trainee with pay. If you think that we haven't been monitoring your work and progress as a young woman you're mistaken. With a record like yours, you have open access to doors anywhere such as the likes of MIT and even ARGUS, but the fact you chose to select us as an interest in the sciences shows us your passion for science. The position is yours should you accept. You only need to call to confirm.
With respects, Silas Stone
Chief Researcher of STAR Labs.
My eyes lock to the message as my heart drops for a tiny bit, before I scream in joy to the top of my lungs and kick my legs up and down from excitement. I do a little silly dance and gather my composure and brush my hair back. This was everything I wanted! Groundbreaking research and tech to advance my cause as well! It was too good to be true! I send a text to my mom and tell her about the good news. I'm sure she'd be happy. She didn't want me in the superhero business, that was dad's dream. She wanted me as normal as possible. I still remember the arguments my parents had over my path. Dad felt like mom was restricting my limits and freedom to be who I wanted, and mom thought dad was just trying to raise someone long enough to crack the speed force and succeed where other speedsters couldn't. They both were right. I try my best to respect both, especially dad. What I wouldn't give to see him again...
Text from: Mom - 'Oh wow honey that's wonderful! I'm so proud of you that's your dream job right? Call me later we'll plan a celebration.'
I smile and place my backpack on, and leave my dorm and lock the door. I walk down normal pace to the outside of the Marta Wayne Residence Hall and exhale with the brightest look on my face, looking up at the sun and feeling like Superman. I head to my first class, Physics. I was ready for the day to be over, and I also have to tutor the no good snotty rich kid Arch Grant. I wouldn't let that get me down, I don't think anything could at this point, not even walking around and seeing all these missing persons posters...seems like more and more and being posted daily. Strange.
Fantasy, Sci-fi, Modern, Magical Realism, Slice-of-life, AU, Post-apocalyptic, mythology, time travel, fandom, romance, slow burns. Well, basically anything except for what is stated in the "Don't Like" section
My name is Kara Zor-El and I am not your average girl. I can bend a metal pole with ease, hear a cricket chirp miles away, shoot lasers out of my eyes and fly. Sounds familiar right? Like another person who can do all those things? Like some extraordinary super man? Yeah, I know what I did there. Kind of intentional.
Now you may be wondering, "how can she do that? Is she related to Superman?" Actually, yes! I'm his older cousin (I know, I know. I don't look older than him, but it's true), and I, too, came from Krypton. Long story short, I was sent after my then baby cousin to Earth, but for some reason my pod took a detour and I ended up being twenty-four years late. The once adorably cute Kal-El had already grown to the hero you know and I pretty much stayed quiet until a year ago when I revealed myself after saving my adoptive sister from a plane crash.
Still following me? I know it's a lot to take in, but it's not as bad for you as it was for me. I mean, imagine arriving on a new planet and finding out you can lift a car with one hand. But I'm here now, and just like my cousin, I also bear my family crest as I fight crime in my own city. Earth may not be Krypton, but it's my home now and I will defend it to my dying breath.
So what should you call me? Easy: I am Supergirl.
Night has fallen. The road on a modest little boulevard was quiet; a breeze blew by, rustling the leaves on the trees. A bird, red and orange in color like a flame, lands on the asphalt, pecking at the seeds and nuts as it searches for something edible.
There is a faint wailing. The bird looks up, trying to figure out where it was coming from. The west? He cocked his head and he was bathed in a blinding light. Startled, the bird took to the air as a car careened by followed by another. The second car had blinking red and blue lights on its top and was also the source of the wailing.
"Dispatch 5-9, we're on Dox Avenue and in pursuit of a white Ford similar to the one in a bank robbery earlier today. I repeat, we're on Dox Avenue and in pursuit of a white Ford similar to the one from a bank robbery."
"Copy that."
The Ford swerved on a corner, tires screeching as it made a sharp turn.
"We gotta lose'em, Harvey," said the passenger of the getaway car. She looked back at the police car; a few sacks of money bobbed on the back seats. "This can't go on forever."
"Relax, Bailey. I know National City like the back of my hand." He took another abrupt turn, driving over a residential property and managing to squeeze between two neighboring houses. The police car was right after them, but Harvey kept weaving in and around the little neighborhood. Numerous times the car hit fences and various garden décor, but he kept driving. After some time, Harvey noticed he had managed to put some distance between them. He took a right and then another, driving into a dark alley and turning off the ignition. Bailey and Harvey remained quiet, watching the rearview mirror as the police car passed by. They sighed in relief and after a few more minutes, backed out of the alley, cheering at their successful getaway. The couple drove onto the highway and past a sign that read 'Leaving National City.'
"Goodbye National City! I came to you a poor girl, now I'm leaving as a rich woman," cackled Bailey.
Harvey smirked. An orange sign with the words Road Closed flashed by. Harvey could see a portion of the highway had been taken out, cones and construction equipment all over. Just before that was an exit into the next highway that was an alternate route out of the city. Harvey prepared to take the exit and then they were spinning, as if propelled by a strong gust of wind. But wind can't do that, right? Not unless there was a tornado except there wasn't any tornado. The couple screamed, clutching each other until they were hanging over the edge of the broken highway.
"Move! Back up, back up, back up!" cried Bailey.
"I'm trying, I'm trying!" Harvey pulled the car in reverse, frantically stomping on the gas. It was fruitless as the car was hanging at an angle where neither of the wheels were touching the asphalt. The force of Harvey's foot, however, caused the car to swing back and forth until it tipped over. The two could only watch as the ground fast approached. Then, as if straight out of a movie, they were flying; their car moved around the construction site, taking a few loops and dives. Finally, after the fifth loop, the car was gently placed back onto solid road and Harvey was the first one out with tears streaming down his face.
"It's a little too late to be going out of town, don't you think?" said a voice. "I mean, Labor Day was, like, two weeks ago."
The couple looked up to see a woman standing—no, floating—in front of them. A long red cape billowed behind her as she regarded the two in a ha-ha-you-got-caught look
"Supergirl," Bailey groaned.
"Hiya!" Supergirl waved. "I hope you enjoyed the ride!" She dashed into the car, ripping off the seat belts and using them to restrain the couple. With Bailey and Harvey tied back in the car, Supergirl effortlessly lifted the vehicle and flew back to National City, depositing the car in front the National City Police Department. The police car that was chasing after them earlier had returned, both of its passengers carrying a sour look until they saw Supergirl.
"I believe you were looking for these two?" she asked.
"Y-y-yes!" One of them exclaimed excitedly. The other could only look in awe. "Thank you, Supergirl!"
"Just offering a helping hand," she patted the car and took off.
She flew high into the sky and stopped, looking down at the illuminated city. No matter how many times she flew overhead, she will never tire of its beauty. It was the first place she chose to go to on her own ever since she arrived on this planet. National City. Her city, her home. She appreciated the view for one more second before flying back to her apartment.
I have been alive for well over two thousand years now. I have been mortal, I have loved mortals. I have killed and been killed.
Much of that time I have spent defeating the monsters that threatened mankind. There have been too many to go over in great detail.
There has been some sort of great cosmic interplay recently. I only know because of the conflicts my immortal family had found itself in. Two versions of all of us. Each with slightly different experiences and personalities. Two versions or perhaps three, of Olympus being forced to merge together.
Two Zeus's met and decided that our potential conflict would be decided through combat.
I was one of the ones selected to fight for my family, for my friends... for my world.
I found myself fighting … myself.
I cannot say how long we fought he and I. Equally matched in both skill and strength of body.
In the end, when I was nearest to defeat. Things came unbidden to my mind. Images of battles won.
Images of tragedies endured. The memory of digging mortals out of the remains of the ruined twin towers. Memories of my friends the Avengers. Memories of lovers, of blood brothers like Thor Odinson and Captain Steve Rogers.
I endure. I have won a place in this new world. Demon rum has no hold on me now. The need to constantly prove myself and seek new glories is gone. I am a representative of all I hold dear in this place.
I am a protector, not entirely the Hercules of old. I am now the beginning of the Hercules of the future.
I have decided that I need to move, find a place near the center of things in New York, but big enough in its own right.
The city of brotherly love, Philadelphia. I present my case to my friend Tony Stark, the man of iron. He agrees to help me and his people are very helpful. My stipend as a reserve Avenger pays most of the cost and Stark covers the rest. My home is a small three story building. My living quarters was in the middle floor. Stark's and Shield's security provided a feeling of security and privacy in my new home. The bottom floor is a garage with a workout area and storage for Vehicles and personal weapons. The upper most floor a small pool and guest rooms.
My headpiece has been improved by Stark technology. Radio, cell phone and even targeting assistance for my new high tech shield weaponry. I have a vehicle, improved by shield, a gift from my friend Steve Rogers. A four wheeled motorcycle with a huge 8 cylinder engine. I am identified as an Avenger, a licensed weapon carrier by Shield.
I consider myself an odd combination of anachronistic warrior and modern guardian. I try when I can to let Philly P.D. handle mortal issues. I wont turn my back on its citizens though. I don't fly... I don't shoot beams from my hands or my eyes. But few on this new world are as strong or have been through as many battles as I .
"Growing up dirt poor is never easy. By all accounts it was the same for my case. In the eyes of many other kids I was noting more than white trash, fit only be ridiculed and beaten. Oh that happen quite often, believe me. Instead of breaking under the pressure, I was in fact inspired to prove them all wrong.
So applying myself I chose rise above my surroundings and become more than what others thought or saw. That determination led me through high school graduation with full honors, in spite of the odds and into my enlistment with the Army Rangers.
Eventually I became part of the elite unit GI JOE, under the direction of SHIELD. It is often hard and bitter work, beyond what most regular folks could imagine, yet I wouldn't trade it for anything. To be best of the best in service to my country and to my brothers and sisters in arms, is my upmost goal in life.
I will not settle for anything less."
One Year Ago
The Balkans, Europe
Scum
Wayne Sneeden thought with great distaste, as he looked through the scope of his sniper rifle at his target from more than four hundred yards away. The said target was a gray haired man with a clean shaven face, a bit overweight by the waist, but with greedy blue eyes, wearing a dark sweater surrounded by a pair of two tall bodyguards, baldish twins it seemed.
His name was Edmund Sawell, a former Lexcorp employee who turned into a freelance arm dealer. The rotten apple doesn't fall far from the tree the ranger considered to himself as he kept focus on Sawell.
Beachhead had situated himself well at an ruin apartment in the late afternoon, observing the scene from below. Judging by the look of things, the dealer was having a hard time, arguing with a small group of men in makeshift uniforms, belonging to an infamous local paramilitary.
They were gathered at an empty parking lot, with Sawell and co. beside their jeep. Beachhead center his aim upon Edmund Sawell, specifically at the center of his fat mass, and continued to wait.
The objective was mostly straight forward, kill the dealer, but make sure it looked like a local hit. Hence why his choice of weapon, a rugged Dragunov sniper rifle, that is very common in this region. He could shoot now, but Beach wanted to wait until negotiation gotten more heated between the two parties, so it can be even more incriminating for the militia.
According to Intel, Sawell was promised protection in these negotiations, so if he died, future merchants of death will be more hesitant to sell their products here.
Two birds, one stone.
Thinking so, Beach watched as Sawell threw up his hands in utter frustration, shouting no doubt curses at his hosts who were responding in kind. Slowly but surely the ranger pressed down on the trigger and fired.
Within seconds, the bullet struck Edmund Sawell, in the heart, collapsing backward, taking everyone else by surprise. Without hesitation, Beachhead got up from his sitting position at the window in one of the apartment, running out of the room, the soldier wasn't staying for whatever kind of reception he would be given.
"Mission accomplished." Beachhead whispered, making his escape at full haste.
I'm a bad, bad man. That's something I've come to grips with, over the years.
I reckon there hasn't been a sin I hadn't been intimately familiar with, a deed I don't think I ever turned down in my line of work. You know what we call that? A friend of mine said it was 'being human.' You fall and you sin and you look it in the eye, you tell it 'not today.' Everyone's evil in some way, everybody has that sort of twist in their soul. I'd have been inclined to disagree, but this friend of mine? Well....
...Lets just say he was an expert on sin and leave it at that.
He saw something in me, despite my actions. Something that compelled me to take the plunge and look into his eyes. I saw everything I was, all the pain...All the hate. All the things that made me, me at the time. I stared into that fire and was reborn. Now here I am, slurping down takeout stew and watching the streets as night falls and the predators come out to play. God, its bright.
I can't abide too much light, but it helps me hide better. This is a new world to me. The monoliths of concrete and glass, the sounds! The rumble of machinery and the stars outshone by man-made lights. Its incredible.
But some things remain the same.
I hear a scream down below and my eyes focus, piercing the dark as I see what's going on. Just another mugging. Small fry, nothing new. Certainly not related to my current mission. I just had to walk away. This was a scene that repeated a thousand times over in Gotham City. I couldn't be there for all of them and it'd be like doing a barn dance with a wildfire- No matter how many I stomped out, I'd never be able to put em all out. Just walk away and nobody would know.
Except me.
I finish off the stew and drop down.
------------
Stupid, stupid! This was Gotham City. Didn't matter if the Batman and his people patrolled, it was still dangerous. Stupid to think that Batman would be here if you begged, stupid to forget Gotham had teeth and devoured the meek and weak. Her mugger held up a knife, prepared to kill and she closed her eyes.
And opened them in confusion as she heard the last thing she expected in Gotham City.
It was the sound of a horse screaming.
From the darkness, a lasso whipped out around her mugger and dragged him into the darkness, a flash of green, eldritch fire lighting up the one who intervened.
He rode a skeletal horse, the source of the glow and the noise, hands dragging away her mugger. Dressed like the Wild West version of the Grim Reaper, all he was missing was the star as red eyes blazed with a fury that promised dark retribution.
The mugger fainted.
And so did she.
When she woke up, it was at the GCPD and reports of a rider on a skeletal horse of green fire would be in the newspaper the following morning.
--------
I watched the dawn and sighed out. Necromancy was a skill I had used before, but the horse was a new idea. I'll remember that for sure. One thing was clear, it made travel a lot easier and sometimes made my work that night easier. Nobody dead...I guess I wasn't thirsty.
I'm a bad, bad man. And that's something I've come to grips with. But nights like this, when I see the chance to do some good? Yeah...Yeah, it feels great. Makes me think I can lie to myself a little more each day. I hadn't an idea of what was going on in the Vampire Nation just yet, but one thing was clear. This world had changed but some things remained the same.
Gotham could take care of itself, but if I wanted answers? I had to understand the world I found myself in. It was time to hit the big city.
This was it. Jason was finally going to kill The Joker once and for all. He knew that Bruce wouldn't do it, and after Joker blew up that preschool and murdered about a dozen kids, Jason decided he had enough. Todd made his way over to a laundry chute to sneak in. He had intel that Joker was hiding out here, and he had no other lead. Jason entered the chute and slid down, dropping into a dimly lit room. "Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall!" The first swing of the crowbar came out of no where and hit Jason straight in the chest and breaking two of his ribs. "Humpty Dumpty had a great fall! All the kings horses and all the kings men-" Another hit, more ribs broken. "Couldn't put Humpty together again!"
Three months had gone by with nothing but torture day in and day out. Joker had repeatedly tried break Jason's will, but to no avail. Until this day. Joker had Jason strapped to a wheelchair with a garbage bag placed over his head. He heard footsteps and sprung up, hoping to God that it was Bruce. "Batman?! Is that you?!" Jason called out before Joker pulled off the bag and looked at him dead in the eye. "Batman's not coming to save you Jason." Jason looked back at Joker with a terrified expression on his face. "He'll come." Joker sighed and placed his hands on his shoulders. "It's been six months now, Jason. I think it's time to face facts!" Jason snapped back at Joker. "Screw you!" Joker sarcastically jumped back before laughing. "That's the spirit! You're a real chip off the 'ole Bat-block!" Joker sighed once more before leaning on the wheelchair. "Not that it'll do you any good." The expression on Jason's face turned from anger to sorrow before he looked down. "Why won't you just kill me?" Jason said quietly. Joker shook his head and had a disappointed look on his face. "What? I'm not going to kill you! Oh, no no no no no. You're my sidekick now, Jason. Imagine it! You and me out on the streets starting fights, picking on the weak. A regular dynamic duo! Just like Bats and that new kid of his." Jason shook his head in disbelief. "No! He wouldn't!" Jason yelled. Joker pulled out a photo of Batman and the new Robin, Tim Drake. "Really? So this isn't Batman then? Weird, the pointy ears are usually a dead giveaway." Jason put his head down in defeat. "No..." Joker sighed and put the photo away in his jacket. "I didn't want to show you that photo, really I didn't. But, well, it was the only way for you to get closure. Now, I know it hurts..." Joker then grabbed a crowbar that was laying on the ground before lining up a shot at Jason as if he was playing golf. "But sometimes you gotta be cruel to be kind!" Joker swung the crowbar and hit Jason directly in the chest. All that was heard was a grunt from Jason as the wheelchair was pushed back into the darkness.
Eight more months of the torture went on, and Jason's hatred for Batman only grew during that time. On the night that Joker took over Arkham, Jason managed to escape. He stole money from Bruce's account and used it to train an entire army. He also partnered with Scarecrow for one thing: to kill Batman.
Present Day It had been seven months since it happened. Jason had been keeping tabs on Bruce and his sidekicks when a rift appeared right there in front of him. Curious, Jason grew closer to inspect said rift only to literally fall through it and land in what appeared to be regular Gotham City. Confused, Jason walked around the city and found everything to be relatively the same, aside from a new monorail that had been built. After further inspection, Jason realized that this world was much different than his own. For starters, Joker was still alive. He saw this as somewhat as a positive, because now he got to kill him along with Bruce. But there was also some new division of the government called SHIELD, and some new super freaks like an Iron Man or Spider Man. Hell, there was even another group called the Avengers. But the most important thing was that Jason pretty much didn't exist in this universe. No men, no apartment, no money, no anything. Stealing the money from Bruce was easy, once again. Apparently everything about Batman was the exact same here, which gave him all the more reason for vengeance. Jason couldn't build up an army anymore, but rather he just made a small gang, appropriately titled "Arkham Knights." He also managed to purchase an old warehouse from Cobblepot to provide as some sort of safehouse for his gang to train and such. Though he wasn't in his own universe, he still had the same goal: Kill Batman and Joker.
Finally, this so-called working vacation of mine has started. As they say, It's off to bang! Unfortunately not the kind of bang one feels during a good workout, or the kind of exciting happenings that lead to success. No, this bang was more of a literal "things literally getting blown off and ruining your plans for the day in National City" kind of bang.
As we discussed, Tyler Fenwick is here as part of a series of visits to the United States to market our newest building protection technology to Lord Industries. Our experience with the current threats of the day having been much more in control at home in Canada than it is the US, we actually have time to prepare for the next metahuman or power-related disaster before it comes along. Therefore, we have developed ways of providing security for the normal person in this superpowered world and have further begun to make it economically viable in commercial and up-scale residential settings. Our collection of enhancements, materials, and engineering techniques are able to provide some measure of satety for the common man who is trapped in a world full of people with powers far beyond their own. While we are already making mountains of money selling this "F-Proof" technology internationally, here in the States our products have yet to really take hold, mainly because of so much of the activity of "people with powers" seems centered on this country.
So our cover story is that we've come to market and discuss the needs of potential clients, while the real agenda is to find out what is going on here. There are those that feel the biggest threat to Canada's national security actually is the United States.
Not that we in Canada really have cause the complain, the United States has been a good neighbor for several generations now. Also, they are the heroic sort of neighbor that always seems to rise to the rescue of all of the nations on the street whenever somebody wants to come along and conquer or eat that street. Hmmm... my analogy is starting to sound silly, but I think it makes a good point.
There's been a lot of noise coming from that neighbor recently though, metahumans this, mutants that, terrorists this, gods that, alien invasion this, undead things that. For the most part, they've managed to keep these things on their side of the border, but the explosions can't help but be unnerving.
Particularly when they seem to be accumulating all the fireworks they can. Wayne Enterprises, Stark Enterprises, LexCorp, Lord Technologies: all companies mostly centered in America who make all the things that make the world go boom and hurt people! According to our numbers, literally most of the things that make the world go boom are centralized with our neighbor to the south. That's what is disturbing people.
So many crazy people with powers live over there already, and now they are assembling arms? I believe in good relationships with our neighbors and letting people do what they want, but this is just way to much not to be upsetting. We're not the only ones, either. You've got to consider the feelings of some of the other players in the global HMA such as China and Russia. Not to mention the crazy teenagers in the neighborhood who like to blow things up and keep screaming how they hate the United States all the time. I'm sorry United States, your neighbor to the north really does have every reason to be getting suspicious. We're still friends, but seriously, why don't you tell us a little bit about what is really going on over there?
The media isn't that much of a help. Seems like everybody's got an agenda, but who has the truth? The government? Hard to think about approaching something like this when the President just answered why he's been lying to the rest of the government about his sex life by challenging them to define the word "is".....and then everybody let it go at that! The financial sector? Seems they are riding on something called a housing bubble that tends to be a very bad idea for everybody except the bankers themselves. The population? Hard to take them seriously when the keep moving into the same high-rise buildings that get destroyed every time one of the "people with power" take a mood.
No, neighbor. I'm afraid we're going to have take some liberties and spy on you to find out what you've got going on down here, and that's the sorry truth behind the real agenda of Tyler Fenwick aka, the Red Panda.
It was supposed to start today, a simple talk about our products with some of their people in National City, when there was a terrorist attack that ruined everybody's day. Using weapons of course, which is a bit circular. I mean, if you own most of the world's defense contracts and somebody comes at you with weapons aren't you most likely in some sense attacking yourself?
Might increase the chances of me actually selling something a bit, though we don't have too much specific to harbors.
That's about it, really now I'm stuck in this hotel room waiting for the meeting to be rescheduled. Awful, the things they put on television these days.
Oh yes, I almost forgot who is listening to this. I'll think you'll get a kick from this grandpa. One of the people who ran the terrorists off appeared to be wearing a squirrel suit. Not exactly a grey form-fitting one, and I didn't see if she could fly or now, but a squirrel suit just the same. Of course, when grandma called me ten minutes after the attack on the harbor (slipping just a bit aren't you?) and I told her about it her first reaction was "Did you get her number?". To be honest, I could have used a chauffer. I think my current chauffer's nerves are pretty much shot. Hours later and he's still on edge. I guess he's not used to getting shot at, wouldn't it be nice if everyone was more like him?
Who knew how I got here I remember Kulan Gath summoned a Master Spell which turned everything and everyone in the greater New York City area into medieval versions of themselves, except of course for Spider-Man, who Gath wanted to torture with the knowledge of what is true. After the spell had been in effect for some time, Gath began drawing supernatural beings to the area, forcibly bringing out the worst in each and every one of them in order to convert them to his guards and soldiers. When Gath let loose the darkness within Johnny Blaze, he made the worst mistake he'd ever made. Inside Blaze laid a dormant Demon by the name of Zarathos, commonly known as the Ghost Rider, who, once freed, snatched Gath's powerful Amulet from around his neck and took over as ruler of the realm.
Recent history for me but I remember dying so how am I still alive I feel conflicted the spell That had been cast on me had weakened but was still present !
"Noting is more important to me than family. Sure I'll admit I give my brothers a hard time, it's just my way of keeping them on their toes. The truth is I'm sick and tired of living in the shadows that we have always done. Master Splinter says that people on the surface won't understand and will even fear and hate us. Maybe so, but those whack jobs in long underwear, that Mikey worships seem to manage just fine with all of the attention, like that nerd in the spider outfit.
Let's also not forget, the mutants, I mean the other mutants. Sure they take a lot of crap for having those crazy powers, but most of them still choose to live out in the open, regardless of the risk.
How come they get to and we can't? April likes us just fine and so does Casey...well okay he got issues, more so than me but that besides the point. So who cares about what everybody else would think, we can handle anything come our way. Just ask the Foot what happens when you tangle with us, let me give ya a hint, it's not G rated.
We're ninja, I understand, stealth is one of our greatest assets, but there must be something more to it, come on. When I go up, topside at night, I see how the so-called normal people act. Often they waste their lives like half eaten candy, while we have to remain hidden so not to rock their boat. To think the others wonder why I'm so mad all the time. Whatever, I'll settle for a good fight, some pizza, and my family, but I still believe we can't keep hiding forever like we're bigger freaks than anybody else.
New York City and its darker sister, Gotham were prizes dear, despite the opposition. And this was discounting every would-be hero in spandex included. In New York City alone, the Underworld was a jungle and the predators, mighty indeed. From the Hand and their master Wilson Fisk in Hell's Kitchen to Cottonmouth in Harlem, the battle was one waged on many levels from the mystic to the alien.
Not that in times of need, they didn't flash their strength now and then. New York City belonged to him and no alien invading force, no has-been organization from a long-dead time and no hero would take that from him. From the Spider in Queens to the bulletproof figure in Harlem and his partner of the iron fist, all the way down to the Devil in Hell's Kitchen. It took a predator to be a predator in New York City.
And if there was anything the man knew, it was the law of the jungle in all its stark glory.
Which brought him down to here. Though he nominally remained within New York City, for tonight he was content to leave his holdings in the hands of Hun and Karai. And if need be, the Elite were likewise around should anything untoward occur. Because sometimes, you needed to take a personal hand in things. To let other criminals know just who exactly, they were dealing with.
And just why it was a good idea to not annoy him so.
Gotham City docks, a standard trade where the Penguin would be waiting for him to finalize a deal. To all intents and purposes, Shredder was alone and out in the open, briefcase in hand he waited for the little man to approach.
Penguin peered upwards, his cigarette holder rolling to the corner of his mouth as he peered through his monocle. Finally, he spoke when it was clear the other would not volunteer a greeting.
"Well Mr....Shredder, I must say I wasn't expecting you in person tonight. Still! Welcome to Gotham City! How do you find it?"
There were glaciers less cold then those eyes within the armored helm. By his side, the gleam of his signature claws drew attention and subtly, the bodyguards of Penguin slowly placed their hands on their sidearms. A gesture that drew no reaction, save a cursory glance before focusing that intensity on the Penguin. In a voice low and rough, the Shredder replied.
"As filthy and twisted as always, Mr. Cobblepot. But then again, I should have known better than to expect more from such an abode of rats."
"You can call it whatever you like, so long as you remember our deal. We're shipping your special cargo at no small risk, let me say to my operations."
Shredder chuckled. It was more terrifying than his silence as he said with relish, looking out at the skyline of the city.
"The Batman. If your men are as good as you said, then obviously there is nothing to fear...Is there?"
With the air of a man eyeing a path for land mines, Penguin went over his recent doings and relaxed a hair.
"Of course. Now then, lets see the money."
"There is no money."
Penguin blinked.
For a long moment, he stood there in shock before taking a wary step back and glancing behind with eyes wide.
His bodyguards had vanished without a sound. Shredder dropped the briefcase, its distinctly hollow noise echoing as he stepped forward, deliberately as he spoke.
"Your last three shipments with my special cargo have been turning up short, Bird Man. I expect several things when a man or freak enters into business with me....And one of them, is to never betray me and mine."
"I have done no such thing-!"
Shredder gripped him around the throat and with terrifying strength, lifted Penguin to eye level as he brought him close.
"Think carefully on the consequences of lying to me and mine, Bird Man. Think on all that means....Now tell me again about my cargo."
"If there is a problem, rest assured my organization will do all they can to correct it!" Penguin squeaked as his feet kicked the air. Shredder contemplated him thoughtfully before dropping him. Rubbing his throat, Penguin looked rueful but remained prudently silent as he took back his top hat. Shredder crossed his arms before turning to leave.
"I will send my people to be a liaison with yours. To ensure that all is well."
"See here, you can't-!"
Shredder turned immediately and Penguin's eyes went wide as the claws came to his throat.
He pulled his claws away and straightened up.
"We'll be in touch Bird Man. And if this is an attempt to play on my good nature...To waste my time and my resources, then I will come back and personally pluck you from beak to tail."
Penguin blinked and in that blink, like a bad dream the Shredder had vanished. Leaving an empty briefcase behind and more of a tendency to jump at shadows. He scowled and walked back to his car.
"Bloody ninjas."
------
I am the Shredder. Master of the Foot Clan, future overlord of the Underworld. And there is no police, no government...And certainly no freaks who can prevent me from my destiny!
Each strike told him more than almost anyone could imagine, as he made his way away from the docks.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
He thought to himself, who, if anyone he should tell about this development.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
He was on sidewalk now. "Ugly Joe's." he muttered to himself. Where to go? The Bat and he didn't see eye to eye when it came to dealing with people like these. Not even close.
"Need a hand?" The raven-haired woman in the bright yellow outfit offered. Not that he could see the colors. He could however, smell the perfume, lemon-scented leftovers of some eCig that made him almost choke. But instead, he did something most blind men didn't think to do. He shook his head.
"I appreciate the offer, young lady, but I've been finding my around with this cane for many years." He replied and kept walking toward the monorail that would take him across the border into New York City. After a moment, he wondered why he had been so polite. It wasn't really like him.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Sitting on the monorail he thought back. And smiled. "Maybe... Maybe I do need a Hand after all. Heh-heh."
"I suppose I have one of those faces." Stick said, of course not changing the direction he was looking. "I really wouldn't know" He tapped his cane a few times. "I don't have the luxury of checking my look in the mirror."
Batman wholeheartedly despised Metropolis, whenever he visited. Far too gaudy and bright for his tastes, it was an art deco nightmare. All bright lights and rounded surfaces, it was difficult to get a grip with the Batclaw on the skyscrapers. But needs must and he had promised Clark as well- Gotham was in good hands, for now. And while he protected Metropolis for a bit, he could perform a little side project of his own, concerning the new world.
Namely, how it happened and how to fix it.
Lexcorp was a dead end in that regard, Luthor wasn't involved in the least and even with Oracle scouring the information databases, it would take a long time. There was so much more to consider now, more heroes which he begrudgingly admitted was better than the alternative. And they had seen the alternative, in the form of all these reports.
A vampire nation, recognized....A terrorist who could manipulate metal. Every can of worms opening up, as villains tentatively reached out their hands to make new alliances or new enemies. It had to stop and soon, before things got worse.
More then it already was anyway. He had done all he could though. The best minds assigned, his resources devoted to seeking out a means to an end, even tentative alliances formed such as Wonder Woman with the Avengers. All that he could do now was keep watch over Metropolis for tonight while Clark was busy, and trust in those who he worked with that they would do their best.
He scowled and leaped off the building side as he vanished.
The room was dimly lit, and the only thing that was visible to the camera was Jason Todd tied down to a chair.
"Have you got something to tell the nice man, Jason?" Said an all too familiar clown sounding voice.
"My name..... is Jason Todd." Said Todd quietly.
[BCOLOR=#000000]"Who d'ya hate?"[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=#000000]"...Batman..." The camera then zoomed out and Joker finally came into view.[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=#000000]"Excellent! Of course you do. Did ya get that Bats? Kid's not yours anymore. He's mine! Mine, mine, mine! To do with as I wish." Joker then approached Jason and paced around him. "Say, I never asked. What's the big secret? Who is the Big Bad Bat? Tell me."[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=#000000]"Of course, sir. It's-" Before Jason could finish his sentence, Joker turned around and shot him directly in the stomach, causing the chair to break and Jason to fall onto the floor, lying motionless.[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=#000000]"Never could stand a tattle tale. That's why I prefer to work alone. No one to spoil the punchline." Joker grabbed the camera and walked over to Jason, zooming in on his body. "You should try it sometime. After all, you've seen what happens when you drag your friends into this crazy little game of ours!" [/BCOLOR]
The room was dimly lit, and the only thing that was visible to the camera was Jason Todd tied down to a chair.
"Have you got something to tell the nice man, Jason?" Said an all too familiar clown sounding voice.
"My name..... is Jason Todd." Said Todd quietly.
[BCOLOR=#000000]"Who d'ya hate?"[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=#000000]"...Batman..." The camera then zoomed out and Joker finally came into view.[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=#000000]"Excellent! Of course you do. Did ya get that Bats? Kid's not yours anymore. He's mine! Mine, mine, mine! To do with as I wish." Joker then approached Jason and paced around him. "Say, I never asked. What's the big secret? Who is the Big Bad Bat? Tell me."[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=#000000]"Of course, sir. It's-" Before Jason could finish his sentence, Joker turned around and shot him directly in the stomach, causing the chair to break and Jason to fall onto the floor, lying motionless.[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=#000000]"Never could stand a tattle tale. That's why I prefer to work alone. No one to spoil the punchline." Joker grabbed the camera and walked over to Jason, zooming in on his body. "You should try it sometime. After all, you've seen what happens when you drag your friends into this crazy little game of ours!" [/BCOLOR]
