S
Six Million Dollar Man
Guest
Original poster
They soared over Canterbury City-- The strangely designed squadrons were rising and diving, pelleting the buildings below with bullets. The means to defend the people were assembled in haste, the weaponry lacking and their usage uncoordinated-- The appearance of the giant dirigible airship and its fighter planes was an attack that no one saw coming.
At the center of it all, at the bridge of the airship was a wealthy terrorist-- a man known to others simply as "The Blimp Pimp," a wealthy socialite from Europe who saw fit to command aerial fleets of dieselpunk style planes. And he was clad in his formal military attire, with all sorts of stolen badges pinned to the coat, as he straightened out his tie and put on his goggles, running a finger over his penciled in mustache.
(The Fighter Planes: http://wall4all.me/walls/art-design/aircraft-dieselpunk-ixlrlxi-retrofuture-1012263-1600x1200.jpg
The Airship: http://th08.deviantart.net/fs71/PRE/f/2010/063/e/1/airship_carrier_by_emppyrean.png)
The Airship: http://th08.deviantart.net/fs71/PRE/f/2010/063/e/1/airship_carrier_by_emppyrean.png)
It would happen that on days like this that the Ensemble Elite would handle things-- being that they were some of the most popular "heroes" in the United States at least, and powerful enough to hold their own when faced with an Earth-shattering crisis. At least when they felt like it, or gave them publicity. They had risen from the ashes of the Pantheon of Peace-- an institution that had existed since just before World War II, until the group was slain in battle by an unimaginable enemy-- so unimaginable, that the event in question ended with the events erased from the minds of those who'd witnessed anything to do with it.
And with the pantheon of benevolent beings seen as gods-- but really no more than people who saw they had the means to help others, was the death of heroism in the very word "Super-Hero". For a time, only those crazy enough rose to try and do what they interpreted as good-- a half dozen of those involved in the attempt at a new resurgence of superheroes being gun-toting psychopaths.
But there was nothing they represented besides insanity, hatred and anger- the very things their enemies bred to destroy the world. The Ensemble Elite was thought to be a return to the old ways but with modern sensibilities-- the fallout of the vigilante madmen, their edgy and overly-cynical ways still resonating.
But... perhaps there was still hope that there would come a day when one could be called a Super-Hero. A super-hero that could stand for something righteous-- to show the way for a society in need of guidance where it would make war with itself.
-
EPISODE 1: Some Assembly Required
And just then, a fighter plane was struck by a raw bolt of uncompromising golden light, whose vastly superior and awesome might wounded the side of fear itself!
Just then, the plane began to drop. People scrambled to get out of the way, most being able to escape what would be the craft's crash-site. But there was still a handful of people leftover who weren't nearly as mobile as needed-- but this was not their fault.
And it seemed someone agreed with that.
As the shadow of death hung over them, it was once again illuminated by rays of light-- empowering, inspiring and as warm as the sun itself. And they saw his cape flowing in the wind as he hefted the aircraft with both hands, gently setting it down on a section of the street that was empty. The figure-- The Contender, AKA Harvey Peterson, turned to make sure no one was singed by stray chunks of hot steel.
He gave his gaze to the innocent. And their fears were alleviated, when they saw the nervous smile of a second stringer super-hero in place of injury and the darkness found in the end. Even the pilot of the fighter plane was pulled out-- and despite the injuries,
Her green hairs and costume appeared from above, as she hovered down to inspect what he'd done. Jupiter Jones had been right behind Harvey, the two of them being the best flyers of the group, most familiar with aerial maneuvers.
"Excellent work." She complimented. "The others are at the airfield taking one of my jets-- they'll try to infiltrate the Blimp Pimp's airship while you and I tackle the fighters that have been deployed."
The Contender nodded. "I'll meet up with them once they get here, Miss Jones. For now, I'm up to keep casualties at little to none."
And the two swooped off to higher altitudes...
And with the pantheon of benevolent beings seen as gods-- but really no more than people who saw they had the means to help others, was the death of heroism in the very word "Super-Hero". For a time, only those crazy enough rose to try and do what they interpreted as good-- a half dozen of those involved in the attempt at a new resurgence of superheroes being gun-toting psychopaths.
But there was nothing they represented besides insanity, hatred and anger- the very things their enemies bred to destroy the world. The Ensemble Elite was thought to be a return to the old ways but with modern sensibilities-- the fallout of the vigilante madmen, their edgy and overly-cynical ways still resonating.
But... perhaps there was still hope that there would come a day when one could be called a Super-Hero. A super-hero that could stand for something righteous-- to show the way for a society in need of guidance where it would make war with itself.
-
EPISODE 1: Some Assembly Required
And just then, a fighter plane was struck by a raw bolt of uncompromising golden light, whose vastly superior and awesome might wounded the side of fear itself!
Just then, the plane began to drop. People scrambled to get out of the way, most being able to escape what would be the craft's crash-site. But there was still a handful of people leftover who weren't nearly as mobile as needed-- but this was not their fault.
And it seemed someone agreed with that.
As the shadow of death hung over them, it was once again illuminated by rays of light-- empowering, inspiring and as warm as the sun itself. And they saw his cape flowing in the wind as he hefted the aircraft with both hands, gently setting it down on a section of the street that was empty. The figure-- The Contender, AKA Harvey Peterson, turned to make sure no one was singed by stray chunks of hot steel.
He gave his gaze to the innocent. And their fears were alleviated, when they saw the nervous smile of a second stringer super-hero in place of injury and the darkness found in the end. Even the pilot of the fighter plane was pulled out-- and despite the injuries,
Her green hairs and costume appeared from above, as she hovered down to inspect what he'd done. Jupiter Jones had been right behind Harvey, the two of them being the best flyers of the group, most familiar with aerial maneuvers.
"Excellent work." She complimented. "The others are at the airfield taking one of my jets-- they'll try to infiltrate the Blimp Pimp's airship while you and I tackle the fighters that have been deployed."
The Contender nodded. "I'll meet up with them once they get here, Miss Jones. For now, I'm up to keep casualties at little to none."
And the two swooped off to higher altitudes...
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