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Post by Shinko on Sept 19, 2016 16:21:02 GMT -5
Hey everybody! This thread will be for posting any artwork or stories that you've created for your missions! Just remember not to post anything until after the narratorpost for the round after you finish the mission has gone up! Please also keep in mind this thread is only for posting your works, not for chatting about them. You can chat about the works here. |
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Post by Jayeee on Sept 19, 2016 16:52:16 GMT -5
I guess i'll kick things off with my Round One mission submissions: DUDE BRO™ IS LAID BARE - AND NOT IN THE USUAL WAY!
We reveal all the secrets and scandals that DUDE BRO™ doesn’t want you to hear about, in a special feature exclusive to our very own I Can’t Believe It’s Not Hero magazine.
By Marcia Troofool
As I saunter down the Heraclia Main Street towards the office in my gorgeous pink heels (more about those on page 7), I am already bombarded by DUDE BRO™. His face lines almost every single shop - DUDE BRO™ themed sneakers are stacked neatly outside Sampson’s Shoe Emporium; DUDE BRO™ endorsed bagels filled to the brim with pork and soaked in beer are arranged neatly on the Mabel’s Bagels cart; a vodka flavoured DUDE BRO™ jelly that promises to wobble as much as DUDE BRO™’s hips do vibrates precariously in the window of Bake & Shake; and who could wrench their eyes away from DUDE BRO™’s Totally Awesome Gift Shop, displaying such items as DUDE BRO™ masks, DUDE BRO™ body chocolate and DUDE BRO™ brand underwear. I’m told that the life-sized cutouts of DUDE BRO™ himself are stolen on an hourly basis, so a batch of over fifty of them are printed daily.
Every one of my senses has been inundated by DUDE BRO™ by the time I reach the office every day. There’s no doubt that he’s popular - I can even spot a couple of those DUDE BRO™ life-sized cutouts standing next to various desks as I look around now, and it’s not the Christmas Work Party without somebody receiving some DUDE BRO™ eau de toilette. Even I can admit to getting a little twinkle in my eyes when I spot him at an event, or watch his entrance at the season premiers.
So why the article? You may be asking. Well, in walking to work every day, seeing that perfect face, I couldn’t help but wonder just what his weakness is? The ever-reliable Bill Sinclair has put a strict embargo on any media outlet reporting on the official weaknesses of Superheroes in the show for fear of the nefarious sorts reading up and gaining a big advantage over the stars, but Bill did seem far more exasperated when I managed to question him on just why DUDE BRO™ was so popular. Did I detect a hint of jealousy? Surely not from the legendary Bill Sinclair, but many of the previous heroes didn’t occupy themselves with the level of theatrics and product placement that DUDE BRO™ seems to have excelled in. It’s a different kind of heroics, that’s for sure.
But in spite of this embargo, some intense research into the character, personality and daily habits of DUDE BRO™ has revealed some startling information. Having often thought that DUDE BRO™ seemed just a little too handsome, charming, affable, polite, muscled, lovable and all-around perfect, I came to the conclusion that something must definitely be amiss. Little did I suspect to find such a treasure trove of faults in the seemingly faultless DUDE BRO™.
Hair
One of DUDE BRO™’s most distinguishing features is surely his hair. But a little sleuthing found something very shocking inside his shopping basket one day. It’s no secret that DUDE BRO™ likes to do his own shopping at Flormart to enhance his personable nature, but never did anyone expect to find a bottle of hair dye rolling along his conveyor belt. My notepad almost fell out of my hands when I saw it. Those luscious blonde locks are fake, and who even knows what his real hair colour is. Well, this reporter was not to be deterred, and upon questioning Cashier Rachel - who preferred to remain anonymous - she claimed that DUDE BRO™ buys at least one bottle of blonde hair dye every week. In a never before heard scandal, I can reveal that DUDE BRO™’s real hair colour is none other than: a slightly darker blonde. You heard it here first, those beautiful blonde curls are actually a little bit darker. Rachel declared that she once saw his real hair when he came shopping one day, and being the vice-treasurer of the Flormart DUDE BRO™ fan club, she knew that it was slightly off the usual colour. I made a quick exit as Rachel devolved into shouting her admiration of DUDE BRO™ to the entire store, but that shocking truth has me so reeling that I had to sit down outside and take a quick sip of my DUDE BRO™ chocobeer latte. Maybe he’s not quite as perfect as we had first thought.
Body
With that nugget of information fresh in my mind, I had to delve deeper. I had developed a taste for DUDE BRO™ related stories, and made my way through Heraclia searching for any scandal that I could find. I didn’t expect what I found in the least. At first I wasn’t even sure that I wanted to relay this to the public, but in the name of true journalism, I know that I must.
I managed to arrange two separate meetings regarding DUDE BRO™’s iconic gold and white costume, from two costume-makers themselves. One claims to be the designer of the current costume - whose name we are sworn to keep secret as she is the top designer we all know and love, almost a superhero in her own right. The other makes the bold statement that he designed DUDE BRO™’s very first costume. His name is Clifford Wanzbizniz, and he revealed to me a very alarming secret.
In return for this tidbit of info, I agreed to print his name along with a full-page advert you can find on page 47, but it was a small price to pay for what I learnt about that skin-tight outfit of DUDE BRO™’s. At first glance, it simply leaves very little to the imagination (something we are all thankful for), but Clifford revealed that those defined muscles might not quite be the real thing. “It certainly wasn’t uncommon for heroes to have a little foam padding added to their costumes, especially in their early outfits,” Clifford announced to me. “I remember DUDE BRO™ very well. Could barely get him to stay still long enough to measure him up, he was always running around at top speed, jumping at the bit to get out to the public and save some damsels. Doesn’t seem like he’s changed much.” There’s a hint of disdain for the premier hero here, I suspect due to the change of designers. But nonetheless, I was eager to learn more of the padding. “Well, DUDE BRO™ especially wanted his padding to look like abs and pecs. That was just about the only thing he was specific about. I’m bound by contract from revealing any concrete information about a hero’s bodily form, but let’s just say that it might not be what people expect.”
Upon hearing this horrifying revelation, I raced back home to write some notes but had to take a rest on my DUDE BRO™ chez lounge. Those famed DUDE BRO™ muscles we all know and love might be fake? I perished at the thought, and was lucky enough to arrange a phone call with his current designer to try and confirm this. “Oh, you know I can’t reveal something like that, darling,” she said at first. But after some gentle prodding, she admitted, “I will say that never have I seen a body quite like DUDE BRO™’s. Padding the muscles, you say? The only thing he might pad is-.” Sadly she had another phone call at this point and had to leave, but there was certainly no denial. Might we have been deceived this whole time?
Purity
I simply had to save the most frightful news for last; so utterly outrageous that I was left bed stricken at the news for some time. After putting out a request for DUDE BRO™ related stories to the public, I was overloaded with heroic adventures. To be frank, most of it was fanfiction, and as much as I love perusing The Tale of Fireflyman and DUDE BRO™’s loins, I had a job to do.
That’s when I came across something truly scandalous. Multiple claims that DUDE BRO™ was having an illicit affair with a woman named Tiffany. As an honourable reporter, I know a lot of Heraclia, and the name Tiffany was one I knew well. As a television reporter, she was always on the news. But this time, would she be for the wrong reasons?
I managed to accost Tiffany in the streets after calming down from the initial news. As usual, Tiffany had nothing interesting to say, except for, “Look, I am so tired of these accusations about affairs. I haven’t even met DUDE BRO™.” A standard denial, before she muttered, “This is just like last time.” Those words confirmed it. This isn’t the first time such a rumour has swirled around Tiffany, and i’m sure it won’t be the last. The animosity she has for me and my high level of journalism obviously meant that I couldn’t get any more information from her, but it looks like the truth is finally out. DUDE BRO™ and Tiffany? I get chills just thinking about it.
So there you have it. A neatly compiled list of the secrets and lies of the famed DUDE BRO™. Fake hair, fake abs, and a secret affair. Surely it makes you question whether we actually know anything about these heroes. Is somebody who can’t even come clean about his muscles (or lack thereof) to be trusted saving the people of Heraclia? It had started out as a fairly standard day for DUDE BRO™ - he had already given a record number of performances for the pretty ladies of Heraclia and it was only 10am!
But heroism often came in the most unexpected of places. Or not, as the case turned out to be when DUDE BRO™ was stopped by a stunning blonde in a blue dress. She waved him down as he’d been practicing his smile in a shop window.
“Oh, thank heavens you’re here! You are simply divine on television, I watch you while eating my two sticks of celery every evening,” she exclaimed, clasping her arms around the superhero.
Giving her a dashing smile, DUDE BRO™ placed one hand on his hips and the other around her waist. “Well isn’t this a picture,” he said, hoping that the cameras would pick it up for the newest Hero City ad. Oh, who was he kidding, they watched his every move.
“What seems to be the problem, hotstuff? Up for a special dance at your place?” he offered.
She shook her head, something that almost made DUDE BRO™ question just how hot she was. Nobody as good-looking as her would turn him down - that was for sure. “I’m afraid there’s just no time for that. Mr. Meowington III is stuck up this tree, and I need some assistance retrieving him. I knew that you’d be the perfect person for the job.”
DUDE BRO™ glanced up at the tree he hadn’t even realised that they were standing under. Sure enough, a small white kitten was perched on a branch just out of their reach.
It wasn’t much of a secret that DUDE BRO™ liked dogs. However, he liked women even more. And who was he to deny such a request?
“Have no fear, that’ll be no problem for me and… my… superspeed?” His voice trailed off as he pondered this. Just how exactly was superspeed going to help him here? It wasn’t as though he could just run up the tree at speed and grab the cat - the tree was way too small for him to stop before the end of the trunk anyway. Why wasn’t Bouncy Boy here?!
“Wait, I know,” he yelled, slightly startling the woman. “You wait here, sweetcheeks. I’ll be back before you know it.”
DUDE BRO™ dashed off towards the centre of Heraclia, leaving a trail of dust behind him, but had returned in 10 seconds flat.
He proffered a box in front of him. “Perfect, isn’t it?” The box showed a picture of a trampoline with DUDE BRO™’s face in the middle of it. ‘Assembly Required’ was written in large black letters.
“Hey, they don’t call me DUDE BRO™ for nothing. I’ll have this ready in no time, and that kitten of yours will be safe and sound in your arms while you’re in mine.”
It took DUDE BRO™ approximately 3 hours and 45 minutes, 7 more trips back into the centre of Heraclia to buy replacement parts and tools, fifteen iced cappuccinos, and one set of ripped up instructions because superheroes don’t need to be told what to do.
Panting when at last a trampoline sat underneath the tree, DUDE BRO™ gave a slightly winded grin of satisfaction at the woman, who had all but fallen asleep.
It took only a couple of test jumps before DUDE BRO™ reached the cat - if nothing else, he was very good on his feet!
DUDE BRO™ returned from the tree adorned with scratch marks and cuts on his face and arms, and a claw-bearing kitten in his outstretched hands.
The woman jumped to her high-heeled feet with a squeal and grabbed the cat tightly into her arms. She squealed again. The cat purred. DUDE BRO™ moaned.
“Oh, let me take you inside to clean up a little bit. There must be something I can do to thank you?”
DUDE BRO™ pumped his fist into the air. Mission accomplished after all. |
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Post by Ginz ❤ on Sept 19, 2016 16:56:11 GMT -5
Mine isn't very exciting, but I figured I'd share anyway! Here's my commercial for Hero City featuring Dossier Dame: [Wide shot. Time lapse of Heraclia as the sun comes up and people start flooding the streets. The camera slowly zooms in to HCN headquarters, where Dossier Dame is standing at the entrance, with her hands on her hips. Back to real time.]
Dossier Dame: Ever wonder what a day in the life of a hero is like? Well, you’re about to find out!
[Cut to a montage of Dossier Dame doing various heroic things as dramatic music plays, such as picking a lock with a bobby pin and making a grand entrance, cutting a wire to defuse a bomb that’s about to reach the end of its countdown, and outsmarting shadowy villian silouettes in various ways]
Narrator: Isn’t that exciting?! But why settle for a day when you can follow in the footsteps all your favorite heroes for a whole new season of HERO CITY! Introducing new heroes and exciting surprises, but keeping all the good things you love about the people whose job is to keep Heraclia safe! Tune in to watch your all-time favorites making a return, including beloved veteran Dossier Dame!
Dossier Dame: [Pausing in the middle of a staged ‘fight’ to look at the camera] Being a hero is a life-long commitment! Join me and my collegues in our daily fight against crime!
[Fade to black. Hero City logo appears, along with the airing times for the show]
[Scrolling text at the bottom of the screen: Remember to show your support for your favorite heroes on Chitter using the hashtag #HCN] |
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Post by Celestial on Sept 19, 2016 17:04:50 GMT -5
Drew Tabitha getting some flowers from a fan. ^^ |
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Post by Draco on Sept 19, 2016 17:47:39 GMT -5
To make things a bit easier to find, just going to continue to edit this one post. Round 1Wonder what was going through Kizuna's mind as he sat dazed and confused on stage in front of live people? As Kizuna sat on stage, staring blankly out at the crowd, ignoring the fact he should have left the stage a while ago, he starts to think. He’s been thinking a lot, but right now he was thinking on how everything has started. In a way he was always setting out to be a hero, but not a super hero. In fact he was setting out to be a doctor.
About eight years prior to the present time, Kizuna was just a medical student. He wasn’t some genius or anything, but he was getting by. He walked through the hospital he trained at, hair shiny and well kept, face bright and full of color, a sparkling smile; he was practically a cliché movie star pretending to be a doctor. He walked up to a patient he was in charge of helping. It was a nice old lady, always in high spirits even though she was constantly in pain. Kizuna has been doing everything he could to help her, but nothing seemed to work.
“I’m sorry I can’t help you more. Both the head doctor and I are both looking into some way to help you out.”
“It’s ok,” she smiled at him, “I’ve grown used to it. I’m only here because my son forced me, otherwise I would just be at home putting up with it.”
He smiled back and walked out of the room scribbling notes down. There had to be something besides just giving her a ton of pills… Everything they did showed nothing should be wrong. The pain was never in the same place for long. The doctor was now just going with the idea that it was old age, and wanted to prescribe some random pain killers. Sure that would work, but they were a bit expensive, and she didn’t really want to take more pills then she was already taking.
The next day he was sitting down next to her taking notes on what hurt that day.
“My right leg a bit,” she said.
“Right leg, got it,” he replied.
This continued a bit, her arm, left hip, right pinkie, her neck, a tooth, a headache, and a few other things were all hurting today. All random, all made no sense. As he sat there, now chatting with her over random things, he started to feel a weird feeling in his leg, then his arm, hip, etc. Everything he noted down, he started to feel a bit of pain from those places as well. He ignored it though, thinking it was just some stress and maybe some form of hypochondriac like symptoms from the stress. He stands up and excuses himself, thinking he should go lay down for a bit. Before he could leave the room though, she gets his attention.
“For some reason, I usually feel better when I talk to you.”
He smiles and leaves the room and makes his way to the staff room to relax.
This would go on for another year with different patients, random people on the street, and so on before he finally realized what was going on. It took a little while longer to figure out he can transfer the pain as well as take it onto himself. It would still be another year before he decided to run around in a costume to help people. It was hard work, especially in the early days, but things seemed to work out. He worked in a small hospital, ran around fighting crime, was somehow popular with the people, and here he was part of Hero City for a few years now. And for a lighter story of just doing his duty... Kizuna is running down the street chasing a not so big deal villain. The villain in this case is Super Agility Fast Pace Velocity Swift Stream, amazingly that is after he changed his name and knocked off about a dozen other words. The one problem with this villain, he is the exact opposite, and Kizuna was just walking slowly after him for about two blocks now after he robbed a lemonade stand. He yawned and looked around only to find a little girl crying. Thinking this might be real work he actually ran over, leaving the not so fast villain to slowly “run” down the street unhindered.
“What’s wrong miss?”
“My cat is stuck in the tree,” she says as she points into possibly the tallest tree in the neighborhood.
Looking up into the tree he could barely make out the shape of a cat way up in the branches. He gave an awkward laugh.
“Don’t…. Worry… I’ll save it,” he slowly begins to climb the tree.
Sniffing a little, “What about the bad man walking down the street,” asked the girl.
Kizuna glances over to the man, “I’m pretty sure I have another hour before he reaches the corner…”
He continues to shuffle his way up the tree. He was glad he was someone fit, or else this would be terrible. But who was he kidding? This was pretty terrible anyways, this tree was larger than most of the houses in the area. It took roughly thirty minutes to reach the cat, and at that point he noticed something was wrong. The cat wasn’t moving. He poked it, and nothing happened. He glanced down at the girl, then back at the animal.
He calls down to the girl, “Uhh, what’s your cat’s name?”
“Patches! Because of all the patches he has!”
He looks closer and notices the cat’s button eyes staring back at him.
“I’m pretty sure he’s hurt, his fluff has been coming out of his tail, then my brother threw him into the tree,” the little girl said innocently.
He looks at the tail of the cat and notices the white cotton fluff poking out. He sighs and picks up Patches.
“Ok, I got him! I’m coming down!”
The little girl happily dances around, as Kizuna slowly makes his way down the tree. On the last branch his foot slips and he falls about twelve feet to the ground, right onto his back. The stuffed cat falls lightly onto his face. The girl happily picks up the toy cat.
“Thank you! I’m going to get mom to sew him up with that logo on your back,” she happily says as she skips off into the house.
Kizuna sticks a thumb up into the air, and then slowly rolls over onto his front. He looks down the street and see’s the villain still walking down the street. He gets up and slowly continues his earlier chase… Round 2Kizuna online Kizuna adjusted his doctor’s coat as he sat at his desk. It’s been a bit of a slow day; a new start hero making a name for himself showed up with a leg cramp, another one scrapped his knee, and an old lady came in for a checkup. On slow days like this, he usually took a nap, went heroing, or checked on what the world wide web had to say about him and the other heroes.
He booted up one of the more popular hero web forums, HERC (Heroic Empathy Rocking Chat). He figured they didn’t fully think of the name and just wanted the acronym. He scrolled through some of the latest chat posts and one caught his eye.
‘KIZUNA TH LAME by TotesFastGuyNoReallyFastIAm9’
Sighing to himself, he clicked the post to read what was inside.
“Going to start out strong, Kizuna needs to retire! He’s a old man that needs to just go sleep somewhere. Look at the guy he looks like hes about to fall a sleep all the time!!! Sure he might have been a great hero back in the day of the dinosors but now hes just old news. He needs to get with the times and vanissh. My grandma likes the guy, that’s telling you something right there. And has anyone ever actualy seen him do anything heroic? I don’t get how he’s supposed to be one of the top heros. You here rumors from time to time, but really, they’re just rumors. I think hes a frod of somesort. probably saved that Sinclair guy’s life or blackmailing or something. Like really, can we all agree hes a loser and just ignore him. I’m going to start a petition to kick him off of Hero City next season. He’s just a joke.”
After that there was a link to a petition site to get him kicked off with about a dozen or so signatures. Some of the responses to the post argued in his favor, but several others were agreeing with the poster.
Kizuna was down on himself a lot, but this was going a bit too far, even for him. Stretching a little, he logs into HERC.
“D0C_B0ND123”
He scrolls back to the post and begins to write up a response.
“For the record Kizuna is only 29, 30 tops. He just looks older than he is because of his abilities. The guy goes out daily and helps people all over the city. He’s tired because he works day and night, both as a Super and as a Doctor. So when he’s not resting, he’s saving lives all the time. So of course he looks tired all the time. And then there are people like you who go around acting all high and mighty about how he’s a terrible person. That he’s too old. How he’s a fake. Ooh look at me, I’m a know it all who can go around saying whatever I want online because no one knows who I am. Meanwhile that poor guy is out there trying his hardest, for people like you. Then he probably checks sites and stuff to see what people think of him, and reads something like that horrible opinion of him. He probably goes around helping the city with the idea everyone hates him, but he does it anyways. You’re the kind of person who doesn’t deserve saving, but will get it anyways.”
Kizuna sighs and hits the ‘Post’ button. He waits a few moments for new replies. A few people agree with him. A few people continue to argue in Totesfast’s opinion. Within minutes a whole flame war begins and the thread gets locked and deleted.
“My work here is done.”
He gets up, stretches, and leaves the room back to work. Everyone needs a lazy day It was a windy and sunny day, a great day to be outside, however this setting was not outside. It was instead in a dark room. The windows were shut, thick curtains blocking any light from entering into the cave of an apartment. On one side of the room the light of the tv glowed onto the paled skin Kizuna. His eyes glued to the television, his hands glued to a remote.
It was one of his rare day offs. He had a proper day off from the hospital today, only a major emergency would call him in right now. And when it came to being a hero, any day was a day off if he wanted it to be, and today he wanted it to be. He had just received the new boxset of the new magical girls series that was popular online right now. He watched a few episodes online and ordered it as soon as it was available. So there has been sitting for the past ten hours… It was a fifty-four episode series, and so far he has only finished the first twenty. So he had a ways to go.
There was a knock on the door, and knew instantly what it was. He paused the show and slowly left the imprint left on the couch, and shuffled over to the door in his slippers and robe. There was another knock right before he opened the door. The nurse from his work was standing there, a little annoyed, holding a large bag.
“Once again, I am your savior and brought you food. Why can’t you ever go get it yourself?” She glared daggers at him, but tried to hold back a small laugh seeing his fuzzy pink slippers with googly eyes on them.
“Because people start asking me questions… The doctor part is bad enough, having random people show me rashes or asking about weird things that they don’t have wrong, but then they ask the hero part of me for things,” he sighs slowly taking the bag of food from his nurse.
“And like the hero you are, you can’t say no, and then you end up laying around the office for several hours instead of working.”
“Exactly!”
The nurse rolls her eyes, “Well some of us have real work to do. So I’ll be going, see you tomorrow,” she turns to walk away.
“Actually, about that,” he softly laughs, “I might be out sick tomorrow…”
She quickly turns back around and grabs the collar of his robes, “No! You are not going to be out sick tomorrow! You are coming in, and you’re doing your job! Either it be as a doctor or a hero! You’re not going to spend two days sitting around in this cave watching cartoons!”
“Anime…”
“Whatever! Get into work tomorrow, or I’m going to get you myself!” She storms off.
Kizuna sighs and closes the door. He shuffles back to the couch and goes back to watching his show. Unwrapping the gyro he eyes it, “I said no tomatoes…” Sighing he picks them out and goes back to watching his show…
The next day, there was banging on his door, and screaming. Kizuna sat under a blanket staring at the tv screen. The door itself currently hand a fridge pushed in front of it to, it also muffled out the noises from the angry lady on the other side.
“Hehehe, only a few more episodes…” Round 4A trip to a shadier part of town... Kizuna sat on the train in disguise. He was on his way to a shadier part of town, one unseen by most people. He needed information, and he had a source that could possibly give him some. Though he had to go in disguise to keep others from finding out, hero or villain, both could stir up trouble. The train stops and he hops off.
For the normal person, this was just a normal part of town, people were walking around, people were shopping at a few stores, everything was totally normal. He stands outside an alley, looking to make sure no one follows, as he steps into them. Walking to the end of the alley he reaches the side of a cliff side. This part of town happened to be build right into and along the mountain area, and this spot happened to have a small cave. Entering it he walks down a dimly lit tunnel, then reaches a set of naturally made stairs. He carefully walks down them until he finds dimly lit cavern, small shack like buildings inside.
One could say these were a sort of hidden slums of the city, but they would be wrong. At first look, yeah sure they were, but on closer look you would find they are villainous. Each was either a newbie villain trying to make a name for themselves, and set up a makeshift “lair” of sorts, or what he was looking for, a black market shop for goods and information.
Walking through the thin crowd of people, most stayed away and kept to themselves only shooting glares, he made his way to one of the bigger shacks in the area. This place was probably the oldest here, probably the first, though no one knows for sure. Slick Ermine’s Lair Emporium, the best place to find things you need, for a price. Kizuna steps into the store and is instantly greeted by a loud groan of annoyance.
“Kiz, what are you doin’ in ere!? I tol ya to send me a text if ya need info! You’re goin’ to give me bad business coming in here like that,” a tall thin man with a slicked back white mullet stood behind a counter glaring at Kizuna.
Looking down at himself Kizuna was confused, “But I’m in disguise. No one can tell it’s me!”
“Ya doofus! Puttin’ on one of them doctor surgery mask things doesn’t count as a disguise! Ya don’t even change your outfit,” Slick Ermine beats on the counter a few times.
It was true, Kizuna was still wearing his normal hero uniform, the only change to it was he was now wearing a surgical mask. He was smart, he could perform surgery, he could tactically plan out an attack, but he was not a master of disguise… So now Kizuna just stood there, in the doorway, shrugging at the angry white haired man.
Sighing Slick Ermine waved at him to get inside, “So what do ya want?” He practically scurries across the floor as he moves to the front door and switches the sign to closed. He then leads Kizuna into a back room, which was connected to a larger cave full of merchandise and show pieces of odd and strange things. “You know the deal, ya need it, I probably have it. I just got a nice shipment of sea bass with waterproof lasers attached to their heads,” he points to a large aquarium of fish shooting lasers at the glass and… each other…
“I was always partial to carp myself…”
“Laser parts, earthquake machines, unstable mutagens that makes you part cabbage, sharks, puppies that shoot lasers from their eyes, you name it I got it or can get my hands on it. But knoin’ you, ya want info.”
Kizuna shrugs with a small smirk, “You know me to well.”
“Welp, you’re out of luck right now. I ain’t got none that’s worth sellin’. Ya know me, I won’t sell unless I know it’s good. Now get outta here and text me next time! Take the back exit,” he points to the back of the cave to a small door.
Kizuna sighs and walks out the door, through a long tunnel, through the sewers, and out a manhole in an alley in a better part of town. He always hated leaving that way… And he ended up with no info, heck he didn’t even get to ask. He sighs to himself again and goes walking down the street. He’ll text Slick Ermine later so he knows what to look for. Round 6So deep within the forums honoring Hero City lurks old entries about past seasons. This is a review of the first time Kizuna ends up in a fight on the show... What did people think of the last episode of Hero City? That new guy and his sidekick are pretty interesting, but I don’t see what’s special about them. Kizuna isn’t all that flashy, and Scrub is just cannon fodder, but somehow they get the job done? Anyways let’s talk about last night’s episode.
So first there was an accident that left people hurt, and the first to the scene was Kizuna and Scrub (if I didn’t live in this town, I would think this was staged). So there they are helping people, and things seemed ok, but then the big bad villains showed up! He was that new guy that has been showing up more lately, The Crab, the giant lobster man who really needs to rename himself... Apparently The Crab caused the accident, and decided to continue his rampage now that Kizuna was there.
Now this is the first time we’ve seen Kizuna and Scrub actually fight, and like I said earlier, it’s just weird. So The Crab started out by throwing things at the team, who dodged with dumb luck. And this is when things god odd, did anyone see Kizuna trip Scrub? Scrub just hit the ground hard and rolled down a hill of rubble, but The Crab is the one who yelped in pain. The Crab got angry and attacked Kizuna, joined a few moments later by Scrub. Things got pretty cool by this point, they ducked and dodged over and over, but the whole time Scrub was the one who kept getting hurt and kept going. And even though the heroes never lifted a finger to attack, the villain kept looking more and more hurt!
Now during all this the show cuts around to other heroes doing stuff, and back to the Kizuna fight from time to time, because nothing seemed to be changing. The duo dodged around all clumsy like, Scrub would get hurt, and The Crab would be the one wincing in pain. Sometimes no one got hurt and he would still fall over in pain or something. Does Scrub have some sort of special power? And why is Kizuna the hero? He doesn’t look like he’s doing anything but direct Scrub from time to time and make comments at Crab (Though his comment about the name change was needed… I personally liked the name Rowdy Lobster).
So in the end of this fight The Crab is on the ground breathing hard as if he was in terrible pain. Kizuna is tying up Crab, and then there was Scrub. He sat down near the injured people and looked like he was going to pass out. Something is really up with that. I know these two are new, buy why didn’t they tell us their abilities? And sometimes it looked like Kizuna was using Scrub as a shield at times. Poor kid… Anyone else have any thoughts on all of this? not a part of the mission, but some extra details Scrub quit after that season. Round 9Even heroes make mistakes, especially when they're new. Kizuna sat alone at a restaurant counter staring at his lunch lost in thought. He was wondering how to spice up the show from his perspective a bit. He was sure that one way to help would to get into fights, but he didn’t like fighting all that much. He could hold his own, but it tended to leave him bruised and in pain later. He sighs as he sips on some soup thinking back to a time before he joined the show and first started to use his abilities to fight crime…
--
He didn’t have many sources to find crime, but one at the hospital keyed him in about a possible illegal fight club. Apparently people were coming in battered and bruised on a daily basis, but refused to talk about what caused it. And the catcher was they always seemed to know each other. So Kizuna had been tailing one of these men around. They ended up in an old abandoned warehouse, a makeshift fighting ring was made in the center, and people were cheering on a fight.
“Jackpot,” whispered Kizuna. He snuck around to get a better look.
People were pile driving each other, clothes lining each other, and beating each other over and over in the ring, and the others just kept on cheering. To make things weirder, many of them were in costumes.
“A villainous fight club, this is great and bad… Maybe I should see about calling in some help,” said Kizuna to himself. That would be a good idea, if he actually knew anyone at this time.
The costumes might work for his advantage though. He looked down at himself and what he was wearing. This being his early days, he was still hiding his identity. He wore a black set of scrubs, a small cape, and both a surgical mask, and some bandage wrappings around his eyes with holes in them.
“I might just pull this off!”
He steps out of his hiding spot and pushes his way through the crowd. Many of them protesting and are annoyed by him. He makes his way into the ring and stands in the middle.
“Ok folks, this fight club is over. I’ll let you off easy and allow you to leave if you don’t start this stuff again. You got that?”
Most of the people looked confused, very confused actually. One of them walks into the ring and taps Kizuna on the shoulder.
“Excuse me… Unless you’ve signed up for cla,” the man, wearing a red speedo, wasn’t able to finish his words before Kizuna swung around and knocked the unsuspecting man onto his back.
“I would rather not fight you. Just give up now, and no one will get hurt,” said Kizuna as he struck a pose.
The crowd booed at him, many throwing out insults and screaming at him. A few more men entered the ring and unlike the first man they swung first. Each of them connected knocking Kizuna down on the ground. He quickly grappled and pulled them down as well, and beat on them to keep them down. However it wasn’t very effective. These men were built to fight, trained to fight, and Kizuna was… Trained in medicine.
The fight didn’t take long. He was being tossed around like a ragdoll in the ring. Occasionally he would use his powers to cause some confusion among the men, but for the most part they were at a total advantage. When one got hurt or tired, they would just trade out for another fighter. As soon as it started Kizuna was left on the ring’s mat battered and bruised, fighters standing around him laughing and walking away.
Kizuna clenched his fist, “I can’t let you villains get away.“ He was trying to force himself to his knees, but a voice stopped him.
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” said the man in the speedo. “If you were smart, you would just lay there and listen,” he waited a moment and saw no change in Kizuna, “ok then, don’t take my advice, but you’ll still listen. We aren’t villains, this is a training gym.”
Kizuna looked around the room without moving his head. He could see punching bags, weights, and other training equipment. Looking back down at the floor he let himself flop onto it. “So you’re telling me… I attacked a gym and lost? This is embarrassing…”
The man laughs, “it sure is. Now from what I could see, you don’t have much in training for fights do you?”
Kizuna shook his head, “not really…”
“Then let’s make a deal. Word of this doesn’t get out, but you come and train here. We do everything here, so you might pick up a style that suits you.”
Kizuna flipped over onto his back and starts to laugh, “It’s a deal.”
--
Kizuna pushed his empty plate to the side, still thinking. After he recovered he learned that the place was indeed a legit gym. It specialized in all sorts of styles like the man said, and he did pick up a few things from them. He also helped out with some on the spot medical assistance.
“Perhaps I should hit the gym… It’s been a while since the last time I was there. Maybe the guys can help me out in finding a way to spice things up.”
He pays for his meal and leaves the restaurant. |
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Post by Moni on Sept 19, 2016 18:07:29 GMT -5
Why would Fireflyman get drunk? Well, what other reason is there?! (warning: may burn your eyes. proceed with caution.) When Fireflyman had first learned about drugs, he marveled at the ways humans used them--to change their environment, to hunt animals, to treat the sick. Humans used drugs for less ... important tasks as well. Drugs were sometimes taken for social purposes, like friendly or religious gatherings, and sometimes for personal purposes, like trying to simply pass the time away or to self-medicate.
For a long time, Fireflyman did not quite understand people in the last category. Now he did.
The bartender stared wide-eyed at the insectoid crime-fighter before him as he took a gulp of his fourth bottle of vodka. It was presently half empty. He'd considered refusing to give into Fireflyman's inhuman order of vodka, something about how he technically wasn't allowed to sell so much alcohol, but this bartender happened to be afraid of insects, and while Fireflyman was mostly man and less firefly, his large compound eyes, thin wings, and pincers that draped over his lips like deformed vampire fangs were enough to force the forty-something employee into silence. The sickly green glow he exuded was merely icing on the cake.
Streaks of gold and the continuous clicking of a phone camera zoomed behind Fireflyman. The source was the undergarments of a blond "hero" who had been "blessed" with super-speed, and he'd stopped every so often to shove someone and chat up a girl, or even "grace" her with one of his... "special" dances, whether she wanted them or not. With an idiotic parting phrase, he left some sort of communication device with every woman he interacted with.
When a man tried to sneak one away, the device was snatched from his hands. "Sorry, bro," the hero said. "I only deal with the ladies."
Fireflyman sighed. His movements slowed, he slid the vodka bottle aside to look at the handwritten letter below it.
Our dearest lightening bug, the end of it read in clean letters decorated with serifs. And if you should ever feel despair, just remember that Jesus' love permeates throughout the world, and it will never leave you.
The letter was signed by a certain Sister Angelica and a list of children who attended a catholic school here in Heraclia--he didn't know which. While he was not a particularly religious individual, Fireflyman had appreciated the sentiment and had stuck the letter in his wallet, and only now had he thought to read it over a second time.
"Fireflydude!" DUDE BRO's voice.
In his drunken state, Fireflyman could not stop his venom from leaking out of his ventral glands and into his mouth. Everyone who saw the toxin drip from the the edge of his pincers made sure to leave at least a meter of space between them and Fireflyman.
"Hey, yo, Fireflydude! Thanks for showing me this place! There's tons of hot chicks here--and some of them, man, I think I'll be pretty busy the next few days." He winked and tilted his hip forward. "If you know what I mean."
Unfortunately, Fireflyman did know what he meant. "Wow, good job, DUDE BRO," was the only thing he could manage to muster sarcastically; his brain was gradually turning off. "And you did it all without--"
After many failed sparks, a slow, malfunctioning circuit in his brain stopped him from saying the original ending to that sentence, which would have possibly introduced a very dangerous concept into DUDE BRO's head. Fireflyman rubbed his aching head and contracted his burning stomach.
Maybe there was such a thing as too much alcohol.
Oh, Fireflyman, try to be social for once! he remembered thinking. Invite one of the other heroes for a nice outing! It'll be fun!
"I know, right!" DUDE BRO leaned in to whisper into Fireflyman's ear. "There's this one that I might not have time for, you know, she has too much hair on her body. Can you believe it? Total turn off. Dude, I don't want to feel like I'm with a man, you know? I don't know if I can really get with that. And who can trust the cooking and cleaning abilities of someone like that?"
Fireflyman really didn't know what to say to that, except: "Do you have any respect for women?" Or anybody?
"Respect... for... women?" DUDE BRO looked legitimately confused. In other words, he looked as he always did. "Does it have anything to do with scoring them?"
"Well, uh... erm... not really."
Fireflyman was unlucky enough to be a literal spotlight--that sentence from anyone else would have bored DUDE BRO. "See, that's your problem," DUDE BRO said. "Dude, lemme tell you some life advice. If she doesn't have a nice rack and can't make protein shakes, she's not worth it. Remember that, and maybe you'll a fraction of chicks that I do."
Was that... advice? Fireflyman stayed silent and instead took a long, cherishing sip from his bottled. There was no such thing as too much alcohol.
DUDE BRO disappeared in another speedo-shaped golden trail once he'd set eyes on a woman entering the bar. Fireflyman exhaled a deep, alcohol-leavened breath and returned to his drinking, pulling the letter from the catholic school his way. For a few moments, he thought about the possibility of a higher power watching over him, and that possibility gave him some comfort, even when he was in earshot of DUDE BRO's voice.
Besides, at least there wasn't a planet filled with DUDE BROs all over. Right? Because if that existed, it would mean that if there was a deity in this world, it was a horrible, sadistic one.
That thought prompted another gulp of vodka.
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Post by Thorn on Sept 21, 2016 4:43:03 GMT -5
What does Nyx Nightshadow do in her spare time? Read all the totally actually scandalous scandal right here! (or preferably, don't read it. Just skim it. Then the writing may seem less terrible. But I wanted to post because some details- her first season outfit, for example- might be useful for other players to know)
It was a little before midnight. Nyx Nightshadow sat huddled in a blanket, tapping at her tablet, breath condensing before her eyes in slow puffs. Predictably, she was on Rollr. Somewhere between the sixth and seventh pages of the ‘HCNpremiere” tag, she discovered that she had a new notification.
Hey Nightshadows48, take a look at this!
Nyx’s eyes flickered up to the painting in question. It looked familiar…there was something about the face, that attire, that strange window near the neck with the glowing circular pendant in full view…
It finally hit her- her first season. This was Nyx, back when she’d thought that black leather and way too much eye make-up was the height of cool. My nose doesn’t even look like that she thought, cringing, as she scrolled down to view the rest of the comments.
The alleged artist: “Nightshadow used to be cool. Here’s my little tribute to the anti-hero we knew and loved.”
Somebody even worse: “OMG I remember this one! =D Dem chains! My favourite part!!! <3”
It was beyond Nyx to comprehend why this unwelcome memory had suddenly risen up out of the depths of cyberspace. Her first instinct was to ignore it, but this didn’t suit the persona she was going for with this blog. No. In her fabricated role of a die-hard Nyx fan, she had to take an entirely different approach. After a moment’s thought, she typed in the simple but suitably positive “cool”. After another moment, she added an exclamation point and a heart-eyes smiley to the end. Then a second exclamation point, just to be sure.
And then she sat up in her chair, closed her eyes, and slammed her face dramatically against the keyboard.
“Whyyyy,” she moaned. “Mike, whyyyyyyy? Why must I be constantly haunted by my own mistakes?!”
Mike said nothing, but she was used to that. Besides, she was happy enough to just sit here and mope. She still had the mortifying picture open in front of her, which probably didn’t help (and which, she noted, was already more popular than her own sketches of the far more respectable later costumes– she wished she’d sold the outfit instead of dismantling it, it would have been worth a fortune).
Surely there was somebody who could help her out? Who could create a virus which would delete all the offensive pictures and fanfictions, or…no, Espin wouldn’t be much help here. He would laugh in her face and tell her to stop wasting his time. She flicked through her contacts, each carefully named to avoid revealing too much lest somebody else should stumble upon them. Traitor might be fun to call, they’d be asleep…she could let it ring for ten seconds, just long enough to wake them, and then hang up before they answered. True, they’d be able to see it was her, which took most of the fun away…who else was there?
French fries on toast.
One of her incognito persona’s more tolerable co-workers, ‘French fries on toast’ was code for ‘Caitlin Banks’. They’d bonded over a shared hatred of working concessions. Perhaps she was still awake? Perhaps she’d be able to talk? Purely for the purpose of forgetting this latest embarrassment, of course. Nyx Nightshadow did not truly make friends with ticket sellers, she was so much better than that.
Nyx quickly typed out a message:
Cate, you up?
The reply was under a minute in coming. Nyx wasn’t surprised- even at work, Cate never let herself stray too far from some form of communicative device.
Yeah. Sup?
Can’t sleep. Scrype?
One moment.
The screen lit up. A holographic image of a familiar young blonde woman flickered into view above it. She extended both hands imploringly.
“Kat! We missed you at work.”
“Yeah,” Nyx rubbed her arm reflexively. “I wasn’t feeling great. Wanted to make sure it wasn’t the flu.”
Cate made a face.
“Urgh. That why you can’t sleep?”
“Naw, that’s completely different. Found an embarrassing picture from high school, I had…questionable dress sense, we shall say.”
Cate laughed, and Nyx drew back and prepared to make some bold statement, before she bit her lip and reminded herself that this was not Zenith. They weren’t trading barbs. She was just Cate and she was just laughing because, obviously, the idea of the super talented and fashionable Katherine Thompson having an embarrassing wardrobe was just too ridiculous.
“Tell me about it,” Cate was saying. “I have this photo from a school dance- I’ll show you, hang on- it’s just the worst…drat, where did I put it…”
A blinking light appeared on Nyx’s screen. Cate’s image was replaced by a scan of a lady in an impressive pale-blue gown that made Nyx think of Cinderella…and then Cate, red-faced and with an adorable braces-laden smile, but wearing the most atrocious lacy grey/green/blue combo and some kind of collar which looked like it was trying to throttle her with horrible, dreadful, bronze-and-blue claws.
Maybe that leather catsuit wasn’t so bad after all.
“Are you colorblind?” she blurted out, without thinking.
Cate’s lips twitched. “Funny. Yes, actually. But now it’s your turn. Show me this horrible photo of yours.”
Nyx kept her expression neutral, but her heart sank. What should she say? She couldn’t show her the artwork…did she have some other cringe worthy picture she could use? She started to flick through her tablet, hoping that she might have something left over from the right time period- or which looked like it could be from then, at least.
“Na, I’m…suddenly feeling it’s not so bad after all.”
“Aww come on, Kitty!”
Nyx didn’t hear the rest. The screen had come to rest on an old selfie of herself, curled up on the couch of her previous apartment, in a shockingly bright red woollen sweater. She remembered this sweater well- her mother had sent it to her, and while it was seven shades of atrocious, she’d put it on just before this photo just to demonstrate what a Good Daughter she was and how Exceptionally Happy being in Heraclia made her.
It was an ugly sweater, there was no denying it, and would do very nicely for this purpose. With a melodramatic sigh, Nyx gave a wry smile and sent the photo through to Cate.
There was a moment’s pause, the other woman’s eyes flickering up to where the photo had just now appeared in Nyx’s place
“Aww…no, that’s cute! I like the little bat, it’s very sweet- very you!”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I dunno what you were worried about.”
Phew. Crisis averted. They talked a little longer, about the recent weather trends and the ‘Hero City’ premiere (yes, no, ten thirty-one, DUDE BRO is hilarious- Zenith was looking off form though amirite?), and then Nyx made her excuses and shut off the device. The picture still existed, it was still there, but some of the initial shame had gone out of it. At least people still appreciated her, after all. Despite what the artist’s comments said, they must still like her if they were willing to draw artwork of her, right? Perhaps she should take that into account. The chains weren’t so bad, after all- perhaps they, at the very least, could be incorporated into a later design.
Everybody has a favourite convenience store: whether it’s because it’s the most usefully located, boasts the friendliest staff, or has the most delicious snow freeze. So when Nyx Nightshadow decided she should get some evil snacks on her way up to the lair, there was only one place she considered going.
She flung open the doors and took a step forward, standing with her arms raised and her hood up, head tilted ever so slightly downward to cast a respectable amount of shadow across her eyeline. Although this was Nyx’s favourite place, she had never been here in costume before. A bell tinkled and a bored young man scribbling at a crossword looked up and, to her annoyance, only looked marginally less bored.
“You lost as well?” he asked, as she approached the counter, having to raise his voice to be heard over the unusually noisy fridge. “Three doors down, can’t miss it. Costume’s nice- cloak’s all wrong though.”
Nyx set her jaw.
“That is because some filthy do-gooders decided it would look far more pleasing in shreds,” she hissed. “Thus I shall have to make do with this lesser substitute for the time being. Now, employee of the Express-O-Mart, I am here to browse your highest quality goods.”
She stalked over to the long double-sided shelf in the middle of the store, glancing only briefly at the swirling slushie machine atop the counter as she did. Normally, Nyx would order a mixture of blueberry-and-raspberry slushie (because blue and red were obviously the best colours, being her colours, after all), but this was not the time. Today, she needed something to share with the group. She wasn’t sure about the others but she, at least, would enjoy these triple-chocolate-fudge cookies. Nyx squinted at the nutritional information, then huffed and spun about, extending her arm and sending three packets flying smoothly onto the counter.
The cashier didn’t even raise an eyebrow. “Is that all for today?”
(note on that last one: there's a Hero City themed costume party three doors down, that's what that bit was referring to). |
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Post by Mostly Harmless (flufflepuff) on Sept 22, 2016 19:12:56 GMT -5
So the melody isn't quite ready but Hero City now has a theme song. |D
Every day, distress is where they shine
Stopping and reversing ALL THE CRIME
From all corners of the earth
They'll compete to prove their worth
After a long, suspenseful wait,
It's time for Hero City!
Powered, blessed with smarts, or underdogs
Natural-born, cursed, gifted with cogs
Keeping justice in their own way
If evil lurks, they're here to stay
Guaranteed they'll be on all the blogs
The stars of Hero City!
Above the common man who cheers them on,
For glory 'mongst themselves, with brain and brawn
They'll challenge without any stop
We don't know who'll come out on top
Come, young and old, tune in, stay drawn
To... Hero City!
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Post by Celestial on Sept 23, 2016 13:20:24 GMT -5
I doodled Tabitha getting a cat out of a tree.  Specifically Arthur, the doofus of the two. Nobody ever said it had to be as part of hero duties. (And yes, Tabitha is wearing casual clothes, what is this madness?) |
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Post by Twillie on Sept 23, 2016 13:48:24 GMT -5
Hm, I wonder what happened to Ryder and Lady Drake... “...And that’s what I’ve been telling him lately,” Espin finished. “And he followed through on what I asked. It all seems to be working.”
“Good,” Natasha replied, her face hard, “With the amount of time I’ve been spending with that boy, it’d better be working. Honestly, between him and work, there’s never a second to-”
They stopped, cutting their conversation short as they realized that they recognized two of the figures ahead. It took them a moment, but those two weren’t hard to place after their appearance in yesterday’s show. There was no mistaking the woman’s fiery red hair and distinct appearance as she idled, even though she wore civilian clothes. Near her was a large bike and an appropriately sized burly man next to it, examining his bike as he took off his helmet.
“You should’ve seen it, Drake,” the burly man spoke before laughing. “That burglar’s face. He thought to run until he got so scared of me that he just stopped and surrendered the goods.”
Lady Drake swallowed the piece of sandwich she was chewing on and let out a short laugh. “Nice, Ryder. They think they’re so nimble and quick, then they run into something faster. ...I wonder if it was the same one that broke into the vending machine near the stage last night.”
Ryder blinked as he sipped his soda. “Really? How do you know?”
“I walked there to get something myself to find the police investigating it. Apparently someone robbed it that night. Maybe it’s the same petty thief.”
“Hard to know; there’s so many out there. But that just leaves me to run them down or drive circles around them till they give up. Not a lot of people want to face me.”
The two of them continued to talk before Espin realized he was staring. He walked behind a house hiding the view of the block so that they were out of sight of the heroes, beckoning Natasha closer.
“Who knew they were friends,” Espin whispered. “Anyway, we’re incognito, but even so, try not to stare too much when we walk by.”
“Walk by?” Natasha stared at him as though he was mad. “Don’t you realize the opportunity we have here? Barely anyone else around, two on two…” She mouth curled into a greedy smile. “We could make sure they’re out of the picture, and out of our way.”
“What, right now?” Espin looked around, a frown on his face. “...Sure, there’s not many people around, but there’s still some, and we haven’t revealed ourselves. Besides, I’m not a fighter; you’d be doing most of the work yourself, against two people.” He peered out to the heroes. “...Unless I could get to the bike, then maybe I could do something to that brute… But not while those two are standing there. I touch that bike while they’re looking, and you’re out a doctor.”
“They won’t stand there forever, you know,” Natasha grumbled, “Just wait. Looking at how much that guy’s had to drink, he’ll have to leave sooner or later. Once he goes, I can take care of the other, and you can go for the bike.” Peeking out slightly from their hiding spot, she scanned the area, stopping when she noticed a nearby alleyway.
“There.” Natasha pointed in its direction. “I can take whichever one is left over to there, and you let me know-” she patted her purse, indicating the small communication device inside, “-when you’re done on your end. I’ll make sure he comes after her.” With an extra laugh, she added, “And I’ll make sure it’s quick for her as well.”
“You’ll make sure?” Espin asked, an eyebrow raised. “How are you going to…?” Then he paused. “...We’re supposed to be keeping a low profile, remember. There’s nothing low profile about killing a hero. Maybe if it looked like an accident, but not your way. Disable her, yes; make sure she won’t stop us later. But don’t make it so the heroes are after our throats before we’re ready.”
Natasha opened her mouth as though about to retort, but after receiving and then giving a hard glare, she remained quiet and scowled.
“... Not my preference, but I can do it. And I guess we wouldn’t want to ruin the show later.” Looking back at the heroes across the street, they both appeared absorbed in their own affairs, currently unaware of any activity outside. “Looks like a good time for me to move. I’ll keep an eye out for you, and once you walk out, I’ll make sure you’re alone with the bike.”
Espin nodded. Natasha crept from behind the house onto the open sidewalk again, keeping the two heroes in her peripheral as she casually strolled down the road. Once a reasonable distance, she crossed the street and darted into the alleyway, ready for Espin’s signal.
Neither of them moved right away, watching the heroes carefully, waiting. Espin briefly wondered if this would work, if the two heroes wouldn’t just ride off. But he supposed Natasha had a point; if the opportunity did come along… Well,the fewer heroes to get in their way, the better.
Each minute passed like an eternity. But it wasn’t too long before Ryder straightened up, crushing his can.
“Alright, well, I’m gonna go in a moment, take a leak, grab something for the road. Watch my bike, will you?” Ryder asked.
“Of course, I’ll even chauffeur it for you while I’m at it,” Lady Drake quipped as she rolled her eyes. “But sure. Gotta finish my sandwich anyway. If you leave me hanging too long, I’m leaving without you, bike or no bike.”
“Always the charmer,” Ryder said a smirk. He then turned and walked towards the building before pushing open the door, out of sight. Espin peered out and nodded as he casually walked closer to the bike, looking down and trying not to appear too interested.
Natasha wasted no time.
“Aaaaaaah!!” She shrieked, “Help! I’m being robbed!”
Her screams echoed through the alleyway and onto the street, and within a split second, Lady Drake to leapt from her spot by the bike and rushed to the call of distress. Natasha let out another blood curdling screech before trailing it with heavy sobs, eventually dying away as she pressed closer to the shadows of the alley. By the time Lady Drake arrived, it appeared abandoned. Natasha let out another series of whimpers, weak as though injured, making sure to lead the hero right to her.
“Hello?” Lady Drake called out, slowly walking into the alley, “Where are you?”
She stopped right within touching distance of Natasha. However, her back turned away from the woman in the shadows, and there was no warning when Lady Drake suddenly found herself gagged and unable to escape.
Meanwhile, once he was sure that Lady Drake was not coming back anytime soon, Espin walked faster towards the bike and began to examine it. He didn’t see any witnesses, but that didn’t necessarily mean there weren’t any. So at first, it would be better if he was just a fan examining Ryder’s bike,at least at first. And it gave him an opportunity to look at the components. He had to be quick; even with Lady Drake out of the way, Ryder could be back at any moment, depending on how long he dawdled. Espin didn’t want to take it to chance. His mechanic garb helped give the idea to pedestrians that he was just someone hired to work on the bike, but if Ryder came out to see him…
He doubted that would go so well.
His brow furrowed as he examined the workings of the bike. There were so many things he could do to it given enough time to read more on motorbikes, but he didn’t have that time. He could put a small explosive in there if he had one on hand, but even then, he’d have to place it carefully for it to have any effect. But he did have a general idea how motor vehicles worked. Once upon a time, he used to have a car of his own before he moved to the city and realized he didn’t need one. (It was expensive to maintain anyway.) There was the motor, the engine, the brake…
...Of course. Keep it simple, he reminded himself.
He worked his way to the front brake of the motorbike and got quickly to work, pulling out a tool and reaching in, messing with the brake system...
It wasn’t too long before he heard a door open. Espin mentally cursed and finished what he was doing before ensuring everything looked normal before retreating and going the opposite of the door Ryder had probably come out of. He walked onto the street and tried to appear like he was just walking by before he hid by a building nearby and looked back to see Ryder approaching his bike quizzically.
Espin attempted to look calm, but he tensed. Oh no, did he notice something about the bike? If Ryder realized that his bike has been tampered with, the plan won’t work…
“...Drake?” Ryder asked aloud. He cursed. “Drake, I told you to watch my bike! Honestly, only a few moments, not even… Drake!”
Espin resisted a sigh of relief, and he reached for a device on his wrist. He pressed a few points on the screen before pressing down on a button on the side.
Natasha’s purse buzzed as Espin gave the signal, and with a chuckle, she whispered in Lady Drake’s ear, “Our turn.”
The gag around her mouth faded away, although her arms and legs remained bound. Placing a hand near Lady Drake’s back, from it Natasha procured a sharp blade, slowly extending it outward…
Lady Drake took the opportunity to let out a piercing screaming, struggling against her and trying to turn her head as far back as possible and attempted to shoot fire at her assailant. In between fire breaths, she called out: “Ryder, over here!”
Ryder wasted no time. Judging from the screams and the fire and the bursts of light coming from a distance, he was able to pinpoint the alleyway. He quickly put on his helmet and ascended upon his bike; he could make it if he ran, but he’d make it even sooner on his bike.
He turned it on and wasted no time pressing the accelerator, zooming close to the alleyway. He knew his bike well. He knew just how long it’d take to get there, just how to stop, and just when to start braking. He did, after all, have a good set of brakes.
It’d be simple. The roadway was empty enough, so he could change his direction last minute, let himself skid to a halt just in front of the alleyway, and take it from there, facing the situation himself. Just when he felt he was getting close enough, he turned and applied the brakes.
Immediately, he knew something was wrong. The brakes didn’t work right away, and when they did, it was… crooked. He intended to turn to face the alley, but he was going the other direction… Towards a solid concrete building.
“No no no!” He applied the brakes, but only the back brake was working. It still wasn’t enough; the front brake did most of the work, and even then, he could feel himself losing control of the vehicle. Only one thing left to do; he turned his vehicle as fast as he could, hoping to avoid the wall and decelerate gradually.
But it was no use. He was going too fast. He turned, but not before the back of his bike hit the wall, creating a resounding CRASH. Ryder slammed into the wall before being thrown off the vehicle onto the concrete of the road. He lay there, bloodied and unmoving, albeit breathing.
”RYDER!” Lady Drake screamed, hearing the crash from where she stood. She didn’t get it… He knew his bike better than he knew himself. How could he…?
No time for that. She struggled even harder against Natasha, slamming her foot down hard in an attempt to crush her opponents while continuing to breathe fire at her.
Once she heard the crash, though, Natasha swiftly refashioned a bind around Lady Drake’s mouth, smothering any flames coming her way. Her grip on the hero began to slip as Lady Drake struggled even greater then, kicking where she could and throwing around her body in the hopes of bucking off her assailant. Natasha gritted her teeth, making one last effort to hold tight before growling, “Alright, time to finish-”
One hand maintained the restraining ties, the other fashioned a long blade that shimmered into existence and cut through the air like a missile honing in on its target. It sliced a painter’s stroke into Lady Drake’s back, and her cries muffled against her bind. They slowly died down into small whimpers. When no more noise was to be heard from her, Natasha let the ties slip away, dropping Lady Drake’s body to the concrete with a painful thud. The knife disappeared as well, any blood previously staining it now dripping onto the unconscious body at Natasha’s feet.
Outside the alley, there were already people starting to gather, stepping out of their buildings before gaping in horror at the sight of Ryder’s crash. Espin was among them, both of his hands covering his mouth in mock horror. There were low murmurs moving through the crowd.
“S-someone call an ambulance!” someone in the crowd finally cried out.
“I’ll do it!” another called out. Espin felt internally thankful that he didn’t have to do it. Still, he stood in the crowd for quite some time, blending in with others and allowing others to rush over to help and offer first aid.
Checking that all eyes were on the accident and not towards her, Natasha quietly snuck out of the alleyway. She made a mock gasp and mimicked the expressions of those surrounding her, eventually joining Espin at his side while doing so.
“You ready?” She murmured to him.
Espin made a slow nod before lowering a hand and looking away. “I… I can’t look anymore… I need to…” He turned around and began to walk away, leaving the crowd to it.
After they walked some distance Espin spoke up again, in a low, quiet voice. “Right. I assume Lady Drake’s out of the way, but not dead? Anyway, that was a success. We won’t be hearing from them anytime soon, I feel.” He added this with a small smirk.
“Yeah, yeah…” Natasha rolled her eyes at his question, “A knife slice to the back, but nothing too deep. Assuming that when the ambulance comes they’ll see blood in the alley, they’ll take care of her before she bleeds out.” The corner of her mouth twitched into a smile. “That was pretty great, though. And wasn’t I the one that told you what a great chance this was?” She nudged his arm a little, smirking while doing so. “Not only was the time and setting right, but your little outfit proved useful, too."
Espin sighed. “Yes, yes, you did… with some corrections,” he added. “...But yes, that did go well.” He then looked down at his outfit, a frown on his face. “...It is useful; it’s helped me more than once. I just wish it were more… fitting. What kind of doctor wears something like this? ...And yet it has more utility than my other one...”
“What kind of doctor?” Natasha cocked an eyebrow, “You’re not supposed to be a doctor right now, you’re a mechanic. Just like how I’m not actually Asian, in case you forgot?” She snorted. “It’s called a disguise for a reason.”
“Yes, I know… It’s just… When I’m actually being myself, I like my other outfit… But I’ll miss the utility of this one when that happens. If only I could look as good in my other outfit and still have as good access to my tools as I do with this one…”
“Ever heard of a utility belt?”
“...True, it’s just hard to find one that doesn’t clash with a… professional look. ...But maybe it’ll be worth it to look…”
“Try the Internet; I promise you somewhere they have exactly what you want.”
“Yes, if it’ll get here in time for… well… you know what.” Espin paused before looking at his watch. “...Speaking of which, your break is almost over and I’ve got a client. We should get back to where we need to be.”
“Yeah, I had to beg my manager to have even this long.” Natasha crossed her arms and met Espin’s gaze. “See you at the show?”
“Of course,” Espin said with a smirk. “Me and our friend will be there.”
Natasha grinned. “Perfect.”
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Post by Jayeee on Sept 23, 2016 14:00:29 GMT -5
A quick word from our favorite Eyescream Bro: After news broke this morning that DUDE BRO™ was no more, and BROVERINE™ had risen from those gold and white ashes, Heraclia was torn down the middle. Some declared that the yellow spandex left even less to the imagination (if that’s even possible), while others claimed that those golden speedos were so iconic that there was simply no replacing them. DUDE BRO™ merchandise has skyrocketed in price, while BROVERINE™ goods are now being churned out en mass.
We at Hero Not Zero were lucky enough to arrange an interview with the winner of Hero City’s previous season: Eyescream Man. Many knew him as a close friend of DUDE BRO™, they were often seen banding together to take down villains or fight over who would get to take a woman back home. But today, we hope to find out just what we can expect from DUDE BRO™ in this season of Hero City.
HNZ: We’re very grateful that you could take time away from your new business venture to come and talk with us, Eyescream Man.
Eyescream Man: No problem, as long as you come to my little shop when it’s open, that is!
HNZ: We wouldn’t dream of going anywhere else. But moving swiftly onto the topic of today’s news, what do you make of the new BROVERINE™?
Eyescream Man: To be honest, it wasn’t a surprise to me. Anybody who knows him like I do was always aware that he had so many ideas and gimmicks in his brain. It was only a matter of time before at least one of them saw some daylight.
HNZ: Is that to say that we can expect more of this in the future?
Eyescream Man: Oh, I don’t doubt it. DUDE BRO™ is much smarter than some people give him credit for. He’s got endless plans for the future - this was just one of many. As soon as action figure sales start dropping, he’ll introduce a new weapon accessory, or take a selfie with a stuffed animal that will make millions in sales overnight.
HNZ: Any specific hints on what we can expect to see next then?
Eyescream Man: I’ve been pretty busy with the business lately, and DUDE BRO™ obviously has a lot to deal with so I can’t say exactly what he’s going to do next. But I would expect something pretty patriotic in the pipeline. He loves Heraclia, and the people in it too.
HNZ: All the people? Or just the ladies?
Eyescream Man: Listen, who doesn’t love a pretty lady? DUDE BRO™ is all the rage right now, can you really blame him for wanting a little fun on the side?
HNZ: And what about the upcoming season? How do you think your partner is crime is performing from the early reports?
Eyescream Man: I think he’s doing great. All i’ve heard is talk of DUDE BRO™. People have almost forgotten that I’m last season’s legendary winner. I’ve started to become known as ‘DUDE BRO™’S sidekick’. I’m not bitter though. Not at all.
HNZ: That’s nice to hear. Because we’ve been told so many stories about the two of you. Your adventures were certainly something to behold. Do you have a favourite moment?
Eyescream Man: I don’t know; DUDE BRO™ and I have shared too many moments together to count. We each tried out the whole sidekick game, but it never worked out. Sidekicks just want too much of the glory. But being both allstars in our own right, we were able to share both the glory and other, much more intimate moments together.
HNZ: It’s funny you should mention sidekicks, because it would seem as though DUDE BRO™ has his sights on Fireflyman. Have you heard the reports that are linking them together in the show?
Eyescream Man: Yes, I have been told about their interactions. Like I said before, we’ve both been so busy that I haven’t had the chance to talk to him in person since the show started, and Fireflyman is right there with him. All the time. Every day. So it’s expected that they spend time together. But I know that he still holds me in a special place inside his heart. We went through a lot together. So what if I don’t glow or whatever, I can shoot freaking lasers from my eyes!
HNZ: That’s a… positive attitude to have? We’re glad that you’re so confident in your friendship with DUDE BRO™.
Eyescream Man: You bet I am. Has he even danced for Fireflyman yet? Because you’re not really friends with DUDE BRO™ until he give you a special dance. And I used to get them at least twice a week.
HNZ: ...What a nice gesture between friends.
Eyescream Man: Yes. It was very nice. And very friendly.
HNZ: Well, Eyescream Man, we can’t thank you enough for joining us today. Before we leave, do you have any parting words for DUDE BRO™?
Eyescream Man: Sure! Just keep on doing what you do best, bro. You’ll be joining me in the hall of fame soon enough. |
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Post by Mostly Harmless (flufflepuff) on Sept 23, 2016 14:22:42 GMT -5
Mizshu likes swimming. A lot. XD so she was put up to tell the people of Heraclia something important. [/img][/spoiler] anyone recognize a sea creature in particular...?~ |
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Post by Moni on Sept 23, 2016 17:10:57 GMT -5
ISN'T HE ADORABLE IN HIS BABY PICTURE?  with a bonus snippet of his life! Fireflyman was just a firefly, once upon a time.
And not even really a firefly. He was in his larval form, which meant that he could kind of glow and kind of walk and kind of bump into his fourteen other siblings (he was Son #15), so he couldn't really do much. Most of his brain and body development would happen when he was in the Pupa stage of his life, which hadn't quite happened yet.
So for now he wandered aimlessly on his favorite leaf (it was his favorite because all his siblings had taken the ones with a good beetle's eye view of the top.) He quite liked this leaf. It was a nice conifer leaf that sometimes pricked his soft inner body while he walked, but all in all he found plenty of small, unwitting insects who'd managed to land on here to eat, and more importantly, it was away from the giant spider who lived a few tree-stories down. She--and he was pretty sure it was a she, because he saw it eat its mate once--sat on her web like it was a comfortable, food filled hammock. Even the passing birds marveled at the size of her web.
Sometimes, between the thick leaves of the swamp, Fireflyman--let's just call him Firefly #15 for now--saw the sun. Or, at least, parts of the sun. It hurt him whenever he tried to specifically focus on it, but since his brain wasn't particularly big, it didn't stop him from trying to catch a glance at the sun while he shuffled in his tree. Sometimes he saw an alligator stalk ... whatever it was alligators stalked in the shallow waters. Sometimes he saw a human kill an alligator with a large metallic rod that spat out oversized seeds, and then other humans wearing navy blue trying to stop those humans from poaching the alligators.
But Firefly #15 didn't really pay attention to any of these creatures. Birds really didn't like to eat fireflies like him, because they were toxic and would make the bird act weirdly and then die after consumption. Spiders didn't really go out of their way to eat fireflies, either. However, there was one creature who didn't care what insect it devoured--frogs. Frogs were the absolute, most terrible thing in Firefly #15's life (aside from Firefly #8, who found it hilarious to dispose of its fecal matter on his leaf.). Frogs were gigantic, gross, slimy, bloated giants who lorded over the insect population of the swamp. And just when you thought you were in the clear, a long pink tongue would whip at you and drag you into the abyss of the frog's stomach.
Fireflyman still hates frogs to this day. Don't bring them near him. |
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Post by Thorn on Sept 23, 2016 18:40:39 GMT -5
I'm posting these without context, but I assure you they were for a mission. xP (ft. Thorn's super legit hippo curtains, and the ears of her Stitch onesie) |
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Post by Mostly Harmless (flufflepuff) on Sept 24, 2016 20:11:24 GMT -5
Oh wait I forgot this thing. Edited it for realistic-ness in this universe.
Stan G. Boorish was at his wit’s end. After that absolutely dreadful spectacle his young client created on the premier of Hero City, of all things, he knew there had to be more measures to be taken.
More...drastic measures.
That child would not be comfortable in front of a camera, no matter what, due to that crazy conscience she always carried. Stan shook his head as he furiously typed an email to several of his subordinates. He would get his material, darn it, and he would get a good, quality amount, if only to show her that people liked what she did, she actually helped, and that underdogs could occasionally be counted on in TV shows like this, much less Hero City!
“Just think of it,” he’d told his wife, waving his buttered knife furiously in the air as he spoke, “It’ll be the justice-wielding version of Little Ones and Laurels! Only this time, instead of extreme competition between the children, there will be very few to compete with her uncanny innocence!”
His wife had let him bark, nervously doing the dishes. She felt sorry about the child he was to enlist.
“By all means, dear, do be careful. And don’t break her.” she’d finished, drying the last dish after managing to get a word in edgewise.
***
Stan was determined to get his little dark horse noticed in a more positive light. From the start, it was evident that Mizshu did not want to be there, and persuading her was like nailing jell-o to a wall. She was just too slippery and camera shy and scared of her own powers to cooperate.
“We’ll have to be extra crafty with her to get some show-worthy material,” Stan sighed, stroking his whiskers thoughtfully. “I know just who to send to her...”
***
“Ms. Shoe? Dr. Valor will see you now.”
Mizshu didn’t bother to correct the harried and absentminded assistant but slid off the chair and gingerly stepped into the office.
A man with a warm expression on his face in a white coat extended his hand to her. “Hello, Mizshu, I’m Dr. Valor. I understand you’re a little skeptical about the new season. That’s perfectly understandable. I just want you to know that I work with superheroes exclusively and that I will be able to answer any questions and will help you sort through your feelings.”
The child took Dr. Valor’s hand into her glove out of stony politeness. Her frame was rigid and her eyes large, but she smiled as Mr. Boorish had taught her to for the cameras.
“Ah, Mizshu, there is really no need to act as though you’re being recorded.” Dr. Valor smiled.
“Doctor, please,” Mizshu tugged on his sleeve. “Might’nt we go outside instead? I know it’s a bit chilly but it would make me feel much more comfortable.” The child had no doubts that Mr. Boorish, her agent, was up to something, and he could be recording in that very room that second.
“Of course.”
Those two words thawed the young girl in such a way that a strange transfiguration took place.
“Perfect!” she exclaimed, practically dragging him out of the office. “You know I have always loved the outdoors it feels like there’s no limit, you know? I mean sure you could, in theory, ride a bike every single street and look at every tree ever but has anyone ever dived to the very bottom of the ocean? I should say not, and perhaps it might be boring, for I hear the greatest stretch of ocean way way WAY down there doesn’t even let light come in so why would anyone want to go to the absolute bottom of the ocean in the first place? I guess it’s the same reason people climb a mountain or go on rollercoasters or take extremely long walking trips, just to say they’ve done it. I’ve taken an extremely long biking trip, but I guess that doesn’t entirely count because I’ve taken a car and a boat at one point or two, I don’t quite remember it was so long ago. I used to live really far away, in Brooklyn, where there was a long stretch of absolutely filthy water. But even though there was a bit of a side effect for me, swimming in the Gowanus Canal and all, it hasn’t stopped me from swimming. Have you taken any long trips before? Where are you from?”
Dr. Valor’s experience with superheroes young and old combined did not prepare him for the laughter threatening to bubble up from deep inside him, and he swallowed hard to suppress it.
“The outdoors does provide a sense of freedom and security all at once, yes,” he squeezed the child’s hand. Presently they came to a lovely mountainous view, the clouds lazily sprawling across a lilac sky.
“Was there anything especially troubling you while you were at work in Hero City? What has you stressed the most?” Dr. Valor asked in a voice he would use when trying to talk to a scared rabbit.
Mizshu’s enthusiasm deflated and she flushed, staring out at the sea of color in front of her. “Well...one thing I really never got over was that time the tabloids got ahold of someone who manipulated a photo of me and I swear even though I’m not supposed to that it looks just like me but in a different costume.” She lowered her gaze to her gloved hands.
“There were scores of people who legitimately thought I had scuba flippers on my hands, and wore a diaper rather than the silly-looking underwear on the front of their suits.” She looked at Dr. Valor, and he listened quietly. Much to her relief, he did not take any notes. Finally, someone she could trust.
Fans, young and old, had seen Mizshu in costume and had stopped her in the midst of her coerced hero-ing, daring to ask where the diaper went, if she’d grown out, and where the scuba flippers had gone.
“Oh, Dr. Valor, can you ever think of something so awful? All I do is try not to hurt anyone, and people think they can prove a point!” Her jaw clenched into a thin line at the thought.
“They say, ‘oh, since when did Hero City turn into Little Ones and Laurels,’ and think I’m to blame, but really it wasn’t me who wanted to be on the show at all! Mr. Boorish promised I could help many people and that I could gain control of my powers eventually, but I haven’t seen too much of either yet. He did manage to separate the dust we did know about and keep them in sacks. I never get them mixed up, because they’re color-coded. Green is for healing, black is for poison, though I really don’t see a use for keeping that other than threatening villains who don’t initially want to listen to a child. Honestly, I don’t blame them too much for that, it’s hard to get adults to listen to you, anyways.” A wan, trembling smile lay on Mizshu’s face as her gaze shifted from the rocks below to Dr. Valor. “I’m perfectly happy you’re listening, though.”
Something cracked inside Dr. Valor.
“There is nothing so freeing as permission, and nothing so shackling as lack thereof.” Mizshu sighed. “Mr. Boorish destroyed all of the tabloids he could get his hands on, and promised me that despite this minor setback, if we worked as a team then he and I could rise to the top, whatever on earth that means."
“Well..." Dr. Valor found his voice. “It’s a good thing those papers were destroyed. Time will erase that eventually, so you have nothing to worry about. Do you have any ambitions at all?"
Mizshu shook her head. “No. No goals. I just want to leave and be okay and be happy.”
Dr. Valor was stunned. “I...I guess we’re done for now. Those are goals in and of themselves. You call me if you need anything, okay?”
Mizshu grinned and threw her arms around him. It was the first time she was able to do that to a doctor.
***
“I can’t do this. She’s too....too cute!”
“You realize this is going to take quite a toll on you. We made a deal!”
“ME? You’re the one tricking the child, and I am your senior.” Dr. Valor sniffed, “I simply refuse to go along with it. Revealing something like this would destroy her. Good day to you, Mr. Boorish.”
Stan left the office in a fuming fury. If not even the doctors within HCN would cooperate, Stan would have to find someone who would...his home, his wife, his future little star--they all depended on it.
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