The Angels of Sayang
Posted 04 July 2012 - 09:58 PM
Also, "“How does having Communications Jammer help us to murder children?”"
Posted 04 July 2012 - 10:27 PM
Posted 04 July 2012 - 10:52 PM
Posted 05 July 2012 - 11:01 AM
I told you Remington was going to be a badass..
Oh darn . I should've known what you meant when I read ch 1. Yeah, he's been pretty badass but it's not as fun when he's evil! Then again that's probably just me thinking up possible epilogue stuff for how in the hell he'd deal with it if/when he gets broke free of it. Basically I think this sick puppy's got some pent up isses to work out .
That aside, yes. Yes he is being badass. What Pseudo said about the dolphins or something!
Posted 06 July 2012 - 04:36 PM
An unconscious man in a mask lies flat on his back. A circle of women surround him as he begins to stir. They are little more than silhouettes in front of a warm, glowing light, floating just out of reach. One of the women shakes her head. Their voices echo in the man’s head like cascades as he wakes.
“Told you he’d make it,” says a blonde in shining blue body armor next to her, “Now pay up.”
“There’s no way,” the other replies, “No freaking way that holy water actually— Why don’t they use this stuff in hospitals?”
The other woman seems to roll her eyes at this.
“The short version is that Helenas hates doctors. She thinks they’re heretics, blah, blah, blah.”
The man begins to stir. He reaches out towards the silhouettes in front of him.
“Am I… Am I dead?”
The blonde leans over him.
“Yeah C-money, you’re dead. You died martyring yourself on earth. This is heaven, and we’re your virgins.”
Someone behind her laughs. The Conspiracist shakes himself, then sits up on the table.
“Ha ha, very funny Jill.”
His vision becomes a little bit clearer. The visions of female forms become more distinct and the glare from above turns into a shop light dangling from a chain. The room is more than a little grime stained. There are motorcycles lined up across the back with two retired Chevys squatting before them. Rusty tools hang from the wall. He touches his face; the mask was still there.
“We found that on the road beside you,” Sarah says, “Sheila filled us in on the gunfight. She also mentioned how she left you there to die.”
“I also think I mentioned getting shot in the gut,” Sheila says, “so shut it.”
The Conspiracist nods at this. He looks towards Jill.
“Good. Hate to get shot for no reason. Where are the others?”
Jill doesn’t answer immediately. The Conspiracist observes the girls as they exchange glances.
“I see,” he says, “How did they die?”
“We’re not sure they even died” Jill says, “When Sarah and I got there Merci was gone. Along with, well,”
The Conspiracist slams his knuckles onto the table.
“I swear; I’m going to kill Reynolds and his little cop girlfriend.”
Sheila’s laugh cuts the moment sharply.
“You’re might have already taken care of half of that.”
The Conspiracist looks to Jill. Jill’s face doesn’t change but her voice begins to creak as she speaks.
“Jesse was in the cop car when arrived. I tried using the holy water, but it was too late.”
“Jill, I’m sorry I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. She’s better off dead than living the way they left her anyway... But still, I’m going to make those Sayang bitches pay, as long as you think you’re still in this.”
“More now than ever,” he says, “In Jesse’s honor I promise we’ll get the rest of them back.”
“Oh, how sweet,” Sheila croons sarcastically. Everyone turns back at her, even Georgia and Cutey give her some looks, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Sarah pushes her way next to Sheila.
“What the hell’s your problem?” She asks.
“My problem is that while I’m glad to have this ugly bastard’s gun at my side, we all seem to be forgetting one eency teency little thing. We’re down by two and with Tony’s bitch back at his side, those jabroni’s now know our whole big plan.”
“Speaking of,” Conspiracist says, “Is that why we’re hiding in a garage now?”
“Yeah,” Sarah replies, “We were afraid Sheila’s place was compromised now that they have Merci on their side. This belongs to a friend of a friend, so you’re welcome. No one aught to know we’re here. But Sheila is right, we do need a new plan, Merci’s going to tell them everything.”
Jill hears Jack’s voice in her head. She repeats what he says back to the group.
“We aught to attack soon,” she says, “The longer we wait the longer they’ll have to prepare and update their defenses.”
“Are you sure,” Sarah asks, “They’ve got Merci on their side; plus, I heard a rumor on the street that the bouncer from Kameleon got attacked and is missing. The one witness mentioned a were-wolf. Not sure what that means, but I gotta imagine it’s related to this. And then you have what happened to Talon.”
Conspiracist hops from the table.
“Don’t tell me, he defected to the new evil empire too.”
“No, they just killed him,” Sarah says “Or broke him I guess. You can’t really kill an android. Here, I’ll show you.”
Sarah, Jill and Conspiracist walk further into the garage. Sheila snaps her fingers at Cutey and Georgia and they all leave out the back door to do a perimeter check and/or smoke break.
Sarah reaches a grease pit in the center of the garage and grabs a hold of the dangling remote to the inspection table raised above them. She presses the down button and the table slowly descends with the motionless purple android lying on top of it. The round hole in the center of its head is all but impossible to ignore.
“So why exactly are we keeping him?” Conspiracist asks. Sarah shrugs.
“Ask her,” she says looking to Jill.
“Not me,” Jill says, “I wanted to try and pawn him for more bullets. Jack had to convince me to haul his heavy robotic ass in here. I’m still waiting for an explanation on that one.
:All good things in time. Lets just say I may have found a way to throw a curveball at them they won’t be expecting. As of right now we need to get to work. Ask your buddies if either of them have experience with Soviet grade robotics or military AI programming software.
“Ok. So Jack wants to know if either of you know anything about robotics or AI software.”
The Conspiracist answers first.
“I know how to repair a ‘65 Mustang,”.
:Great. We’ll just stick some wheels on his limbs, shove a V8 in his ribcage, then ride into the compound on his buttcheeks.
“I actually have some experience with robotics and AI’s,” Sarah says. Jill raises an eyebrow as she looks from Conspiracist to Sarah.
“What? It’s true,” Sarah says, “Clyde One had an integrated AI that I implanted myself from some software I ‘scavenged’ from Khazan General Robotics. Granted his body was that of a motorcycle and not of a guy, but the process should be similar.”
: Oh, I like this babe. I reaaalllly like this babe, Jill. Ok, here’s the deal, Sarah and I will try to repair this guy’s cyberbrains. You and C-Money have the important duty of lifting heavy things for us. We have to do something that is usually done over months with custom parts costing thousands each; unfortunately we only have a few hours and the contents of this garage to work with. First things first, find the saw they use to cut through car doors; I need to open up this guy’s skull.
“You should have simply shot him in the head! Blasted his skull against the pavement!”
The assembled ‘Angels of Sayang’ have convened in a large hallway outside the darkened boardroom. Everyone is there, save Thomas Jackson. As Keijo continues to berate him, John does little more than lie against the wall holding an ice bag to his head. Tony looks on with sick glee as John squirms under the boss lady’s words. As Tony smiles, Merci drapes her arm around his neck and nibbles at his ear.
“Completely amateur,” Keijo says, “It would have been so simple. You’ve done it a million times. Put the gun to his head and squeeze. Or better yet, throw him in the trunk so we could add him to our cause. It’s bad enough that you let detective Harper die. What the hell were you thinking?”
“I don’t know,” John replies,” I guess I wasn’t thinking straight. I don’t know why. Maybe because I suffered a massive concussion.”
He looks towards Merci as she suckles on Tony’s ear.
“Speaking of which, it would be nice if our team medic would bother to do her job and help me heal from the injuries I sustained saving her from the killer car crash that her ally started.”
Merci stops caressing her boyfriend long enough to respond.
“First off Reynolds, stop being a baby. Second, Conspiracist didn’t crash anything until you shot him. And third, I’m not the team medic; I work with Tony, and only with Tony, and Tony says you gotta walk it off.”
Tony shoots John a snide glance of contempt, then speaks.
“Well, even with Reynolds’ failures aside,”
“No matter how massive they may be,” Sylvia adds dryly.
“The Angels are more dangerous then we first assumed,” Tony finishes, “I don’t think any of us could have predicted that they would attempt to co-opt the Syndicate. If not for Sheila and the others, the remaining Angels would no longer be a threat. Even though they’re cornered now, a cornered dog is at its meanest. If I were in their shoes, I’d try something drastic. Merci, tell the others what you were saying about that communications jammer you stole?”
“The little pervert inside Jill’s head wanted to use it to block Walker’s special project. It could stop us from using our biggest weapon against them. Slightly clever now that I think of it.”
Remington grunts in amusement.
“Then we should destroy them without it. That technology is nothing but a crutch. No convoluted plans, no mercy, we hunt them down one by one and rip the flesh from their bones.”
“No,” Tony says. The wolf growls from the back of his throat. Tony does his best not to notice.
“We need to use every resource at our advantage,” he says, “Walker’s neural inhibiter could help bring them into to the light. We need to destroy this Comm Jammer. They’ll have to be close to use it, and the moment they do we’ll know. Ms. Walker, once that jammer is down I expect your device to be operational.”
Walker shifts her feet as all the eyes in the room land on her.
“Almost,” she says, “Considering all the trouble I had with the ‘Jack Problem’ last time, I’ve been trying to come up with a solution to eliminating him. A solution which someone was supposed to be helping me with…”
“Again,” John says, “Massive concussion. Speaking of which, can I be excused to see a neurologist or something?”
Keijo raises her head suddenly. Her eyes go glassy and she remains silent as if listening to whisperings no one can hear. A smile stretches across her mouth.
“It seems your whines have been answered by Sayang, Mr. Reynolds. She has brought you a doctor, or something…”
The elevator behind them dings. The group turns to face the doors as they open. Two people emerge. The first is Thomas Jackson; the other is familiar, but different. Her hair is the color of low cropped hellfire, her seductive leather armor is as black as satcloth and covered with steely spikes. The impression is of something distinctly impure, vile, and unacceptable. John stares towards her.
“Helenas?” the woman says, “No. Call me Hecatess…”
Sylvia rolls her eyes again. Behind her Keijo nudges Thomas Jackson.
“How’d you manage to finally turn her?”
“Her mental defenses fought the effects of the parasite at first. So then I added two more. I think I might have overdone it; the first thing she said once they took hold was that her old vestments did not suit some one with her ‘unholy intentions’, and said something about imparting horror onto all who beheld her. So we got some new clothes and cut her hair. I assumed it was a woman thing.”
“Well, it’s not my style,” Keijo replies, “but it seems to be working for her”.
Hecatess strides towards John, her leather boots clacking against the floor. His mouth hangs open as he stares.
“Ok, now I know that I have brain damage.”
“Shhhhhh,” she says. She takes a vial of water, dips her finger into it and brings it to his forehead. She traces the circular symbol of Ouroboros against his forehead.
“Oh Sayang, who is in all of us, awesome be her name. Give me this day your will, and may I do your will onto others. Lead me far into darkness and deliver me from the light. For thine is the chaos, the pain, and glory forever, amen…”
The red splotch in John’s eye rescinds, the cuts on his face and arms begin to close and the pain in his bones lifts. Keijo watches with no amazement, then walks into the center of the group.
“Well then, we’re all here now, and you all know your duty. This is where we complete our mission, and destroy the Angels of Mercy, forever….”
The van rumbles down the dirt road. The sun was finally beginning to sneak over Khazan’s sides and the light creeps its way into everyone’s eyes. Jill rubs her nose as the light begins to poke at her eyes. Sarah sits across from her.
“You ok?” she asks.
“Yeah,” she mumbles,
“You sure? You look a little green.”
“Just a little nausea. Its just been awhile since I slept I guess, and this van ride isn’t helping. Maybe I’m just feeling a little sick from earlier. The bad fish.”
Sarah doesn’t let that one slide.
“Really. Are you sure it isn’t something else?”
Jill shrugs but doesn’t answer. Georgia is driving, Sheila is in shotgun. Cutey is leaning sleepily against Conspiracist’s shoulder; he doesn’t seem to notice. Talon’s body was sitting upright at the very back-end of the van; Jack said he was still buffering, whatever that meant. The comms jammer sat in the center of the van taking up everyone’s leg space but doesn’t so much as hum. Sarah and Jill’s words are the only things filling the van other than the grind of the tires on the dirt.
“You and your sister were close?” Sarah asks.
“No, I mean, not as much as we could have been. We didn’t see each other much. I went into the U.S. army, Jesse moved to Khazan and became a cop, so it was mostly Christmases and birthdays. But she was still my sister and all, you know.”
“and its just that…” Jill stalls a bit. She leans her weight against her upright rifle.
“The last time I talked to Jesse I asked her to look into some crazy cult in Khazan. The Church of Natural Order. It wasn’t official police business, and she always hated feeling like he big sister’s tool. But she did it. She did it for me… then they captured her and used that little parasite monster to… well, so that was really the last time I really talked to her.”
“You did your best to save her Jill. At least you saved her from becoming more like those monsters.”
Jill shakes her head.
“But I asked her to look into it. I told her to investigate Sayang for me. If I hadn’t, maybe then.”
“No Jill,” Sarah says, “You couldn’t have known.”
“But I made her.”
“Jill your sister was a police officer. She did what she did because she knew that somebody has to be able to protect the people from people like Sayang. She did what she did because she wanted to keep others safe, not because you made her.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Jill says. She pauses a bit, then leans against the back of the van with slight relaxation.
“You seem to know a lot about this,” she says, “you ever lose someone close to you?”
“Yeah,” Sarah says, “It wasn’t too long ago. I didn’t know her that well, but I didn’t take it that well either. I kind of spiraled for awhile. I mean there were a lot of reasons for that, but she was one of them. Then she came back from the dead again, so I guess I felt a little better about all of it.”
“Yeah, sure… wait, what?”
The van comes to a stop. Merci leans over her seat to the ones in the back.
“Its game time kiddies. Everybody knows their position. The heroes can get out here; me and my girls can work the jammer. We meet up at the south side of the compound when it’s over.”
“Right,” Conspiracist says, “but there’s one more thing.”
He pulls out Helenas’s old bandolier belt of holy water and passes a bottle to everyone on the team and leaves one for the android in the back.
“Take these. It’s Helenas’s special holy water. You already know what its healing abilities did for me, but it can do more than that. It can purge ‘evil’. In this case that means the little squirming parasites controlling the Angels. If you get injured use a little to heal yourself, but if you come across an angel or other hero under Sayang control you might be able to cure them.”
“How?” Cutey asks.
“You have to get them to drink it.”
“That seems unlikely to work.”
“Don’t worry about it Honey,” Sheila purrs, “We won’t need it. I may be working with you all, but that doesn’t change things with Tony and his little bitch. I see either of them and its Bang-Bang and bye-bye to their head.”
Jill ignores Sheila and places the holy water into an ammo box on her belt. It takes a little shoving but it eventually fits. There is a sharp beep from the android in the back of the van.
:Buffering complete…AI 101, ‘Jack’, download complete….
“Well,” Jill says, “I guess he’s ready…”
Slag begins to wake. She was never really asleep, but her brain had stopped for a time. She felt like she had been teleported; one minute she’s fighting a werewolf in an alley, the next she’s lying against gurney in pale room. She can see a humming computer just within her peripheral vision. Everything below her neck is dead weight. She manages to turn her head to the side and spies a woman in a white lab coat. The woman is tall, has rectangular glasses and black hair with red streaks running down the sides. She hovers over a large computer terminal. Slag manages to stutter out a few words.
“What… where am I?”
Sylvia turns back to her subject.
“You’re in a little shit stain of a Sayang encampment. I wish I had somewhere more suitable to house my equipment, but it will have to do for now.”
“What? I don’t… who are you?”
Sylvia leans over Slag. She reaches inside a small cardboard box next to the gurney and yanks out a pair of latex gloves. She carefully pulls them on, then gently grabs Slag by the chin.
“Tell me your name?”
“Its Emily… Emily Levent…”
“I see. Emily can you count backwards from ten for me…”
“What… what does that matter?”
“Just a simple neurological test,” Sylvia replies, “ now if you please.”
“No,” Slag replies, “Why does my head hurt, why can’t I move, who are you, why am I here, and what are you doing to me?”
“Please, you answer my questions, I’ll answer yours.”
Slag rolls her head back and stares at the light above her.
“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.”
“Excellent,” Sylvia says, “just excellent. I was afraid the inhibitor had done permanent damage but it seems to be mostly harmless.”
Sylvia takes out a pocket light and shines it into Slag’s left eye. She watches the pupil response as she speaks.
“It’s a device that allows me to affect your brain through radio wave manipulation. Consider it an ‘anti-think’ device. Basically what happened was that the Children of Sayang wanted to talk to you so I used it on you and brought you here. That’s why your head hurts. Right now its set to a frequency that only effects your motor functions. That’s why you can’t move anything below your neck; your brain can’t function long enough to send an impulse to those regions.”
Slags pupil reacts to the light naturally. Sylvia moves to the other eye. Panic has finally entered into her subject’s confusion as she begins to realize the seriousness of her situation.
“But why?” Slag answers.
“Because Ms. Levent, we saw you talking to those Angels of Mercy. We wanted to ask you what they were planning.”
“But I don’t know. I left, I didn’t want to join them. You’ve got to believe me.”
“Oh I do,” Sylvia says as she puts the flashlight back into her pocket, “Merci told us as much when we kidnapped her. Its ironic, you were the only one who tried to avoid danger and you were the one who got caught first. Unfortunately without any inside information on them you don’t really present much of a reason for us to keep you around.”
“So you’ll let me go?”
Sylvia finds this amusing for this reason. She reaches under the gurney for something.
“No, I’m afraid not. Everyone has some value to Sayang. Remington, that were-wolf you fought, wanted to eat you. I suppose he still might when I’m done.”
Sylvia finds what she wanted. She pulls out a large silvery drill the width of a needle that has been attached to a long cord. She grabs Slag by the chin once more.
“I thought you could be more than just a lamb to the slaughter. I thought you could be a guinea pig. Now hold still, this is going to hurt a bit.”
She slowly brings the needle to scrape against Slag’s forehead. The girl on the table breathes rapidly; her eyes go wide. The drill is about to meet her skin. Then the computer behind Sylvia starts to whine and beep plaintively. Sylvia turns towards the screen. A monitor displaying the frequency of her radio signals suddenly goes flat.
“Oh… that’s not good.”
A burning embrace catches her arm. She looks back to see Slag clutching her wrist and pushing the needle away. There isn’t so much as a witty comeback before a fist of smoldering ore cold cocks her.
Posted 06 July 2012 - 04:38 PM
The buzzing starts. Tony was on the compound surface when it happened. He pulls out his two way radio and presses down on the speak button; all it does is buzz with random static. He knows what this means. Merci looks at the radio by glancing over his shoulder.
“The radio, its being jammed…”
“Yeah,” Tony says, “They’re here early.”
Tony whistles. Reynolds, Remington, and Hecatess are close enough to hear him. They come running, or slowly strolling in Reynolds case. Tony yells authoritatively.
“It’s time boys. These jabronis are making their move, they’ll be here any second. Capture if you can, but by no means allow them into the basement complex.”
“ I shall rip the bones from their flesh,” Remington says.
“And I shall impale them like the victims of warlords old,” Hecatess says,
“yeah,” John adds, “and I’ll shoot them in the head or something.”
Tony motions towards Hecatess and Remington.
“You two spread out, cover the ground floor” He then turns to Reynolds, “You I want downstairs with Sylvia. Let her know the assault’s begun, and tell her that the second that jammer stops scrambling our radio waves, I want the neural inhibitor running against anyone without the gift.”
“You want me to grab Jackson too?” John asks, “He’s still in his little research lab.”
“Jackson can defend himself. Get to Sylvia.”
“And what about you Mr. Boss man?”
“I’m going to shut down that damn interference jammer.”
Clyde II spins through the compound spitting mud across Atlas Initiative goons. They aim their guns towards Sarah. She glances their way and the men slam to the ground, foam issuing forth from their lips. Another squad in camouflage gear appears around the edge of a barracks. Sarah sees them, but before she can fry their brains, said brains splatter across the barrack walls. Sarah looks behind her to see two figures in shimmering metal dash through the fence towards her position.
The first one is Jill in her bright blue armor; she fires her assault rifle in wild sprays towards the Atlas men. The other is what remains of Talon and half a Chevy Chevelle. The silvery plating that once hung on his left shoulder has been replaced by folded mauve door frame, and there is a fuming exhaust pipe sticking from his forehead. A lumbering Atlas thug jumps out of storage shed, shotgun in hand. He lifts the gun towards the back of Jill’s head. Sarah sees him go for the shot, but she is not the first to act; the new and improved Talon snatches the gun and snaps it with a stiff karate chop.
“Wapow!” he shouts.
The android then lets out a flurry of metal-fisted rabbit punches into the man’s gut.
“Oh yeah, oh yeah,” he shouts in a distinctly now non-Russian accent, “how ya like me now!”
Jill meets up with Sarah. They watch their newest ally continue to beat the tar out of the thug long after it was necessary.
“Wow,” Sarah says, “he’s uh, really ‘enjoying’ himself isn’t he?”
“Well he’s never actually had a body before,” Jill says, “what do you expect? At least this way he might finally learn to how hard it is when you actually have to be fighting the fight, rather than just backseat driving. Jill turn left, turn right, no what are you doing. Stop. Wait, I meant go backwards.”
The android finally lets his opponent drop, then jogs over to Jill and Sarah. Gunshots ripple in the air around the compound.
“More of them,” Sarah says.
The android laughs.
“Ha. They are no match for me, the greatest Angel of Mercy of all. For I am… SuperJack!!!!”
“Whatever, ‘Super Jackass’. You think you can help Sarah keep their forces tied up, up here.”
“Sure babe,” Jack replies. The voice is more mechanical than she was used to, but she could recognize that annoying tone even when it wasn’t coming from inside her head. Jack’s cannibalized body begins to vibrate and whine. He becomes a purplish blur as the shaking goes extreme, until finally his body splits into six different Jacks. They all manage to smirk at Jill without the possession of mouths.
“Isn’t this great babe,” they say in stereo, “Buy one Jack, get five free!”
“Oh yeah, I’m giddy… not like one of you wasn’t more than enough.”
“Nope, can’t put me down babe, I’m in too good of a mood.”
Jill shakes her head and dashes off towards the base. Sarah grins towards the Jacks and starts Clyde II back up. She and the Jacks speed off towards the sound of approaching troops.
Thomas Jackson’s subterranean lab is tiled and white except where red swirls of blood linger around the central drain. The floor has been washed down recently. The lights are painfully bright, the only shadows exist behind a series of pillars that cut through the room. On the wall there is an armory of sharp tools with sinister purposes. Next to them are jars of brine with squirming creatures inside. The parasites are hideously black centipedes, grown so large that only one can fit in a single pickle jar. The room is mostly bare save these things, a small desk, and a large chain dangling from the ceiling. A pair of manacles hang off the chain.
Thomas Jackson stands over the small desk. He is mixing clear colored drugs in a vial. The creak of an opening door comes behind his back.
“Damn it what do you want now Reynolds?”
“I’m not Reynolds, and all I want to do is talk”
The Conspiracist stands in the doorframe. Jackson swivels and draws his gun; the Conspiracist leaps as Jackson fires. He dodges behind a pillar in the room, then pokes around the side to let out some covering fire. Conspiracist’s shots force Jackson to move. Jackson topples the desk and takes cover behind it. His opponent withdraws behind the pillar. Jackson pulls both guns to his hand, the standard glock as well as the special paralyzer revolver.
“I want to help you Jackson,” Conspiracist calls out, “I know what you’ve been doing. We know about the kidnappings. The kids. We can cure you.”
Jackson eyes everything in the room, possible cover positions, routes to escape, makeshift weapons, everything.
“Cure me?” Jackson scoffs, “You can’t cure a monster friend. You can only kill it.”
“You’re not the monster Jackson. The monster is that thing they put inside you.”
Jackson spies the large lighting fixture that glares above the Conspiracist’s position.
“No, I am the monster. All Sayang did was allow me to reach my full potential, and I’m just fine with that.”
He raises the glock and fires into the lights above the Conspiracist. They shatter and rain sparks and glass downwards. Conspiracist jumps from the lights and emerges from his cover. He turns and fires towards Jackson, shooting the glock out of his hand. Jackson fires three paralyzer shots as Conspiracist dashes towards him. Conspiracist moves agilely enough to dodge two shots, but as he tackles Jackson the third hits his arm. The paralyzer round forces his arm to go numb. His gun drops.
Then he tackles Jackson to the wet tiles and begins clubbing him with his one good arm. Jackson responds in kind. He attempts to bring the paralyzer against Conspiracist’s skull. His opponent sees this and flips off of him quickly.
As the Conspiracist slides off another paralyzer round explodes against the ceiling. He dives and finds Jackson’s gun has slid deep into a corner. He reaches for it.
Both men spin towards each other, two shots are fired. A bullet enters Jacksons ribs, and a paralyzer round breaks against the Conspiracist’s head. Jackson stops. He touches his chest, a red spot appears there, first just as a dot, then it grows. The Paralyzer gun drops from his hand. He looks to Conspiracist.
“Wow,” Jackson says, “You actually shot me…. So this was your cure?”
Jackson collapses backwards, bleeding but not quite dead. The Conspiracist manages to stumble to his feet and walk towards him. Jackson’s body and mind were still in shock. He doesn’t recognize that there’s holy water being poured down his throat till it begins to take effect. His wound heals fast enough to be seen by the naked eye. He also feels something crawling up from the back of his throat. It scratches as it makes its way up. His lips part to make way as the parasite creature makes a slithering escape. It’s body steams in the holy water and it screeches in agony as it crawls from Jackson’s mouth and onto the floor. The Conspiracist ends its suffering with a shot from the glock; the creature’s head explodes into a oily black mist.
Then Conspiracist begins to feel the effects of the paralyzer take hold. He suddenly feels tired, very weak. His eyes slowly close and he collapses back to the floor.
Tony and Merci slog through the thick forest. It was distant from the compound but Tony knew they would be up ahead. There was an old cabin in the nearby hills. It was defendable, and close enough to the compound that Merci said that the comms jammer would still be able to shut down all radio signals.
Tony approaches the cabin slowly. Lights are on in the windows but the curtains are drawn. He scans the ground and finds tire-tracks. He holds his hand back against Merci; she stops.
“What is it?”
He examines the tracks closely. They were heavy, from a van maybe. Looks like Sheila and her gang were here. But something’s wrong. Were they leading away from the cabin?
An engine starts behind them, blaring headlights shoot out to blind them.
He pushes Merci into the woods and out of harms way. The van charges and Tony leaps. It continues forward at full speed and plows through the side of the cabin.
Tony stands to his feet and gestures towards Merci. She rises and starts moving to regroup with him; then machine gun fire sprays the forest between them. Merci takes cover behind a tree and Tony is forced to flee away from her.
More gunshots fly from the cabin towards him. In the early morning light he can escape unharmed while still firing more rounds towards them. Sheila and Cutey move out of the cabin and spread out into the forest. Tony realized their plan now; they had no intention of protecting the jammer. They wanted to separate him from Merci then hunt him down. It wasn’t bad as plans go, but it would take more than that to take out Ma De Luca’s boy. Tony lifts his gun and begins stalking through the deep forest.
Sarah and the Jacks had pretty much cleared the compound at this point. A litany of Atlas Initiative thugs lay unconscious on the ground with broken bones and shattered psyches. The Jacks were slapping high fives and Sarah was taking a victory lap on Clyde.
A shot rings out, a long spike shoots into the ground right before Clyde’s front wheel, the bike knocks itself sideways, and Sarah comes tumbling head first over the handlebars. The Jacks run to her side and lift her up. She is mostly unharmed, but Clyde has gained a few scratches.
“You ok?” Asks a Jack.
“Oh whoever did that is sooooo dead!”
A voracious cackle strikes down from the roof of one of the nearby barracks. Hecatess stands over the pair, her rifle in her arms. The Jacks look up at her.
“Damn,” one says, “High heel boots, leather skirt, and whatever you call that black top thing. Got to admit that maybe, just maybe,”
“We’d like Helenas better this way,” finishes another.
“Fear me, for I am Hecatess” She calls out, “I am the arm of Sayang, let her vengeance reach forth and crush you into nothing but dust to be scattered in the winds.”
“Ugh,” says the first Jack, “still not loving the wordiness.”
“She won’t be able to say her own name when I’m done,” Sarah says. She stares Hecatess and sends a mental blast her way, but it wasn’t going through as easily as it usually did. Something was impeding her. A Jack grabs her by the shoulder.
“Woah Chica,” he says “Don’t do that, she may be annoying right now but she’s one of us. Just let us handle her.”
“Handle me?!” Hecatess screams, “I am death, I am destruction, I am the gatekeeper to Tartarus.”
“Oh please,” the lead Jack calls out, “Give up Helen. There’s one of you and like seven of us!”
All the outhouses in the compound slide open revealing massive elevators. A platoon of armed thugs flood out and surround the heroes. One of the approaching enemies is bigger and much hairier then the others. He leaps over the other soldiers and lets out a soul-shattering howl. Remington rears up and looms high over Sarah and the Jacks.
“Ah man,” a Jack says, “I forgot about this guy.”
“Hey Jacks,” Sarah asks, “you guys don’t actually have minds do you?”
“A.I. means Artificial Intelligence. So no, I guess not.”
Sarah slips a metallic eyepiece from her pocket and slides it over her head. It begins to hum ominously.
“Because I’m not sure how good my aim’s gonna be.”
Sylvia is furiously typing at the large computer. Large error messages pop up in blaring green.
“Come on, come on,” she yells at the monitor, “ why won’t you just f*cking work!”
Jill stands a few steps behind Sylvia, her rifle leveled at her back. Sylvia freezes, she can see the armor clad, gun toting blonde aiming for her head in the reflection of the screen.
“Turn around slowly,” Jill says, “hands in the air. Now.”
Sylvia does. Jill smirks a bit when she faces forward.
Sylvia scowls in response. Her eye is still black and purplish from where Slag slugged her. Jill gestures away from the computer with slight nods of the barrel of her gun. Sylvia slowly walks away from it.
“So, you must be Jill.”
“And you must be that bitch that tried to hack my AI, it’s a pleasure.”
Sylvia slowly descends from the computer’s raised platform and stops at the gurney inexplicably sitting in the middle of the room. Jill holds the gun in one hand and uses the other to toss a bottle of water at Sylvia’s feet.
This time its Sylvia who smirks but Jill can’t tell why. She gets a look in her eyes like she just won something.
“You know I hear you’re a pretty bad shot. Why should I believe you could even hit me?”
“Are you kidding? At this range I’ll hit you and everything around you. Now shut up and drink.”
“If you’re going to shoot,” Sylvia says, “you might as well get it over with now.”
“Stop stalling. I don’t want to kill you and you don’t want that either, so just drink the water.”
“I said. If you are going to shoot… then you aught to shoot NOW.”
Jill stands baffled by this sentence till she realizes that Sylvia isn’t even looking at her. A cringe of ‘oh shit’ runs across her face as the gun blast comes from behind her. The round thumps against her head and shatters. A paralyzer round.
Jill topples to the ground. She reaches for her gun but a boot slams down on her hand. Her whole body feels a little wobbly. She glares up to find Johnny Boy Reynolds aiming a paralyzer revolver at her head.
“Hey Jill. Welcome to the team.”
The gun blasts again, pain ripples on her skull; a paralyzer round had hit her forehead at point blank. Everything in her mind goes quiet for awhile.
Posted 06 July 2012 - 04:41 PM
Tony fires into the brush. The figure dodges out of the way. It had to be Sheila. Tony could have sworn he shot Cutey awhile back, but whatever happened to her, she had disappeared into the forest. With Merci still gone, it was only the two of them.
“Eh, you still breathing Sheila, baby?”
Sheila stands behind a thick coal black oak, reloading her pistol. She peeks over a thick branch. The forest is mostly still, the wind swaying small branches.
“Yeah, De Luca. I’m still alive. What about you?”
She sees nothing through the forest cover.
“Oh, can’t complain,” Tony replies from somewhere in the silent, tangled army of trees, “Why don’t you and I talk this out. We could play on the same team again. You’d actually like Sayang; it’s just your kind of place. Whadda ya say? You and me working together, just like old times.”
Something black flaps against a knotted brown tree trunk. Sheila slowly creeps towards the tree, her pistol raised.
“Old times, Tony?” she replies, “Old times ended when you killed Big Lou, Pretty Pete, and dumped me for the flavor of the month.”
As she moves closer to the tree she recognizes the black flapping object as the tail of a suit. Tony’s suit. Sheila smiles.
“Plus, now you’ve got that fine little thang at your side, do you expect me to share you? And even if we agree to kill the little bitch, what makes you think I’ll take you back?”
Tony doesn’t respond but Sheila doesn’t need him too. She circles around his position, attempting to conceal her approach, but still feels compelled to monologue.
“I want nothing to do with you Tony”, Sheila jumps from the brush with her gun raised, “Consider this revenge from the Bottoms!”
Sheila points her gun into an empty suit. Tony slides out from a burned stump and points his gun at her backside and fires twice. Sheila falls, her gun tumbling into the brush. Tony presses forward, his barrel aimed towards her skull. Sheila flips herself over and glares contempt into him as she bleeds. Tony doesn’t so much as flinch.
“I could call Merci,” he says, “this isn’t over. You can still Join Sayang. But I have to know I can trust you not to let old grudges get in the way. What do you say China Doll?”
She uses what’s left of her strength to spit on his chest and give him the bird.
“I’m from Laos, asshole.”
He raises his gun once more.
“It’s too bad,” he says, “You would have been useful. Stupid, but useful. Oh well, I always have Reynolds for that.”
“Tony, stop,” a voice calls out.
Tony looks back to see Cutey Honey, Georgia Girl, and Merci. Cutey’s submachine gun is pressed against Merci’s temple. Merci keeps her hands raised; her eyes plead with Tony.
Tony keeps his pistol aimed at Sheila who can’t help but laugh, blood sputtering from her lips as she does.
“Kill us both De Luca,” she says, “It’s what you deserve.”
“No,” Cutey says, “You can let her go Tony. We let Merci go, and you let Sheila live.”
“Why should I trust that you’re not just going to spray us both down once you’ve got what you want?”
“Because we need Merci,” Cutey says, “Sheila’s bleedin’ out. She agrees to heal her and I’ll hand over my gun. Georgia and I are at your mercy, pun not intended.”
“Tony,” Merci says, her hands still raised high, “This sounds like a pretty good plan from where I’m standing.”
“Give her the gun and send her over. I promise, no harm will come to Sheila.”
Sheila hacks at this suggestion but can barely speak up to object. Cutey turns the gun around and places the handle into Merci’s hands, then steps back with Georgia. Merci smirks and levels the machine gun towards the two. She slowly reaches Sheila who doesn’t look too good. Then she looks to Tony.
“What do you want me to do with these two? Blow some pretty new holes into their bodies.”
“No. They can join us. Sayang needs more female blood, and I’d love to watch Sheila suffer when me and the New Bottom Girls take over Lowtown.”
“Yeah, we could do that,” Merci says, “orrrrr,”
Merci slams the gun against Tony’s head. He’s stunned, but doesn’t go toppling to the ground, and shakes the blow off after a few sideways steps.
“You traitorous little—”
Cutey and Georgia lunge onto him from behind. That’s enough to take him to the ground. Tony thrashes but the ladies hold down tight. Merci jumps on top of his stomach. She drops the gun and slips out a now half-empty water bottle and unscrews the cap.
“Sorry baby, but you’re gonna thank me for this later.”
She attempts to pour the water down his throat; Tony clenches his teeth and the water simply splashes against his face. Georgia pinches his nose and Cutey grabs his jaw, they slowly force his mouth open and the holy water drips in. Tony instantly begins to convulse. His mouth spreads wide and the revolting parasite comes skittering out, screeching in agony. Cutey grabs the bug and wrenches it from Tony’s throat, then dashes it against a nearby tree.
Tony breathes heavy for a moment. The ladies slowly get off of him and Merci helps him to his feet. Tony clutches at her arm as he rises.
“I can’t believe… the things I did… to you, to others…”
“Its okay Tony,” Merci replies, “its all over baby.”
“Ahem,” Cutey coughs, “Not entirely over.”
She nods towards the bleeding Sheila. Merci nods back then walks to Sheila’s side. She bends down and pushes Sheila’s mouth open. For Tony she shoved holy water down his throat, for Sheila she shoves in her tongue. She lingers over Sheila who remains too weak to push her off. Merci lets out a few emphatic hums and moans as she repeatedly darts her tongue inside the girl’s lips. Saliva is swapped.
Sheila’s eyes slowly open wider, her muscles begin to twitch, her strength returns, her wounds heal. She groans in annoyance. She places a hand on Merci’s shoulder and shoves her back hard.
“Get offa’ me!”
Merci falls back. If this offended her she doesn’t show it. If anything she seems merely amused. Sheila wipes off the excess saliva with disgust as if she was the one who just had a parasite come squirming out of her throat. She stands and looks towards Tony and her gang. There is an awkward pause. Georgia begins to giggle.
“This isn’t funny!” Sheila yells.
Georgia holds back the giggling, for all of five seconds. Sheila whips around and snatches her gun from the dirt. Rather than blow them all away she simply holsters the weapon and pushes her way through the woods.
“This isn’t over between us De Luca. Not until I bury you.”
Before long Sheila has disappeared into the trees. Georgia girl comes after her, still giggling in spurts. Cutey Honey stays back with Merci and Toni.
“I guess I owe you one hell of an apology,” Merci says.
Cutey moves those two wonderful dolphin lips of hers into a smile.
“Didn’t do it for you,” she says, “I did it for us, for the Bottom. We’re still going to kill you two, but we’re going to kill the Tony and Merci who killed our boys, not their evil twins. It’s like that Jill chick said about her sister; killing you with those things in you would be doing you a favor, and we aren’t doing you any favors Merci.”
Cutey bends down and snatches the machine gun from the forest floor. She brushes the dust from its sides and kisses the side.
“But I have to ask why you just did that. I mean, even after clearing you and Tony we still had another bottle of holy water. That could have healed Sheila just as easily.”
“Maybe,” Merci says, “but that wouldn’t have been nearly as annoying.”
Cutey brings the dolphins together once more.
“I guess that’s a good enough reason. I’d never say it to her face, but sometimes Sheila just needs to be taken down a notch or two… anyway, I’ll be seeing you around. Don’t expect to get the same deal twice. This isn’t over, not until y’all end up wrapped in plastic in a sewage ditch….”
She then turns and walks off into the woods with the sun glowing against her honey painted hair.
Sarah focused her mental attacks towards any who came near her. She mows down the Atlas thugs like blades of grass before a scythe; but they just keep on coming. Three of the Jack clones were already down with giant claw marks ripped through their insides. The other three continued to beat the snot out of any thug who got close enough. A violent gunshot rings out; Sarah ducks, a Jack jumps in front of her and takes a metal spike to the torso. Its spasms briefly then ceases to function. Hecatess laughs in the distance. Sarah turns towards one of the two remaining Jack androids.
“Can’t you guys just gang up on her or something?”
“We’d try,” says one of them whilst kicking an Atlas thug in the jaw, “But every time we get a break in the combat—”
Remington speeds by and takes the android out like a speeding car. It’s shred into pieces near instantly.
“That happens,” says the remaining Jack.
Sarah tightens her fist. She can see Hecatess arming another round and smirking her way.
“Screw this, I’m taking her out.”
Sarah focuses. The eyepiece hums to life. Her glare concentrates on Hecatess. Her opponent stumbles, but unlike the goons before, does not immediately go down. Helenas strains to fight back.
“None shall deceive an agent of Sayang from her duties, for in chaos I see the truth…”
Remington pounces down near Hecatess. He recognizes that she is in pain and searches for its cause. He finds Sarah glaring at her and puts one and one together. He dashes forward on all fours; the remaining Jack was too far away to intercept him and Sarah was too focused on Hecatess to adjust in time. He ran nearer and nearer, his jaw wide and dripping with foam. He vaults at her as a living projectile; he’s intercepted in midair, knocked off course by something heavy like a softball sized comet. It burns like one too.
Remington crashes down but manages to deftly adjust to all fours. He watches as a being covered in molten iron tackles its way through the Atlas men like they were bowling pins. Slag peers out from within her volcanic armor.
“What’s wrong big guy, not up for round two?”
A lightning fast punch clocks her and sends her tumbling back to Sarah. Her impact on the ground is enough to shake Sarah out of focus. Attacking Hecatess wasn’t getting her anywhere; that evil chick must have some sort of mental defense she figured. She eventually notices Slag dripping burning metal onto the pavement.
“Yeah,” Slag says, “ I just forgot how hard that guy punches.”
“Right. Hey, didn’t you say you weren’t coming with us?”
“Wasn’t given much of a choice. Long story, maybe better saved for another time.”
The Atlas goons had thinned down to about a dozen and were concentrating on Jack. Slag and Sarah stand to see Remington and Hecatess bearing down on them. Sarah smiles.
“Tell you what, you want to switch? You take the other leather chick and I’ll handle big furball over there?”
“You kidding me, I’ll take that deal easy.”
Slag begins charging towards Hecatess. As she leaves, Remington sees his opportunity and pounces. Once more he sails through the air towards Sarah. Sarah gives him one hard look and her mental attack is sent. Remington’s eyes go blank. He crashes to the earth with a thud at Sarah’s feet. She yanks her holy water bottle out of her pocket.
“Man…we should have just done that from the beginning.”
Meanwhile, Slag was still barreling down on Hecatess. Hecatess fires a shot with glee, her target doesn’t even bother to move. Why should she? The silver round imbeds itself in the molten iron and is stuck like a pickup in the mud. Hecatess’ eyes open wide.
She quickly tries to reload once more as Slag builds up more and more momentum. Hecatess prepares the rifle once more and fires quickly; the round stabs the armor, but does not pierce to skin. Slag is within ten feet now, and Hecatess can’t reload fast enough. Slag’s tackle is like getting hit with a two legged stack of bricks. They both hit the pavement.
Hecatess struggles to escape the weight of a Buick pressing down on her. Slag refuses to let go. The burning metal singes Hecatess’s body as it creeps and flows around her, but she only screams out in anger.
“You think you can harm me? This is nothing like the fire of hellfire I can experience.”
“Maybe,” Slag says, “But you certainly aren’t going anywhere.”
Hecatess tries to break away but the fiery metal flow was already cocooning the both of them. The last Atlas thug falls down beside them; the remaining Jack android stomps onto his head and the man dies with a gasp. Jack then walks over to the two women held tight in the embrace of the molten iron shell.
“Do it quick,” Slag yells to him, “kill her before she gets out.”
“Sorry love, can’t do that.”
“What? I thought you were some like super-kill-guy Russian android assassin?”
“Hmmm? Oh, no. Other guy, same body. I’m Jack. We spoke on the phone earlier. Don’t think about it too hard. As for her, I can actually do something a little better than kill her.”
The purple android pulls his holy water bottle out from somewhere. Slag doesn’t see any pants, so she doesn’t bother asking where he was holding it. He reaches in and opens Hecatess’ mouth open as she squirms against the boiling steel. The holy water spills around her mouth, but at least some of it manages to get inside. Hecatess’ body convulses a bit ,then her mouth opens. A blackened parasitical centipede comes crawling out, soon followed by a second, and then by a third. The trio of squirming, screeching invaders try to retreat out of her body, but find themselves crawling into the lake of molten iron that covers their host’s body. Hecatess’ blood lust subsides, the woman inside her returns.
“Oh my… I’m free. Finally free…”
“Yeah,” Jack says, “you can thank me later. Hey, Bouncer chick, you want to let her go? She should be fine now.”
For some reason she trusts the android; Slag relents and lets Helenas go. Helenas’ clothes are slightly singed and her body bears a few burns, but is otherwise fine. Remington and Sarah approach from a ways a way. Slag stares at the wolf beast intently. Sarah notices this and waves to get her attention.
“Its okay,” she says, “He’s okay. Just had a little bit of a bug, ya know?”
“Yeah,” Slag mutters, “I hear it’s going around.”
“Then I think its time to eradicate the source,” Remington growls. His voice carries anger, resentment and guilt all at once, “I’ll find Keijo and her mentor and personally eradicate this disease…”
Jack helps Helenas to her feet. She clutches tightly at her rifle and her voice is shaken.
“How… I have been corrupted. I am impure.”
“Hey, don’t talk like that, “ Jack says, “you’re not impure. You were just sort of possessed. And now you’re un-possessed. You’re still just as pure and arrogantly preachy as ever. Here, watch: God Damn it.”
Helenas slaps the android across the face.
“Do not swear in God’s name you heathen abomination of machines.”
“See,” Jack says, “exactly the same.”
“But what I did, what I… What I’m wearing.”
Slag steps into the conversation figuratively and physically.
“I think you look nice. Besides, at least its better then having your clothes burned off because you just covered yourself in molten iron.”
“Speaking of,” Jack says, “So Slag; you and me, we’re both made of metal, and neither of us are wearing any clothes. I think it’s a sign.”
Slag sighs. Across the compound the outhouse elevator rings and then opens. Five people stream out so fast Slag can only get a partial glimpse at them. Then the elevator explodes outwards and a massive slithering insectoid beast crawls from the Earth. Its body is nothing but leathery shell and insectoid black carapace. It gnashes razor teeth against one another and yells out in hunger……….
Posted 06 July 2012 - 04:44 PM
This begins concurrently with the last section, not consecutively.
For second time in less than eight hours, the Conspiracist begins to wake himself from unconsciousness. He’s still in Jackson’s lab and Jackson is still there. Jackson is staring at the shelf of glass jars filled with the vicious, squirming parasites.
The Conspiracist rises to his feet and makes his way to him. He sits kneeling before the rows of insects. His gun rests in his laps.
“You don’t know the things I did here. The things I did in this room. I’m a monster.”
“No Jackson,” Conspiracist says, “That wasn’t you. You aren’t the monster, those things are the monsters. You were just another one of its victims.”
“It didn’t make me do what I did,” Jackson replies, “it just took away the guilt, the self-loathing. Deep down I always wanted to do those things. I have no excuse, and I can’t blame my actions on a bug when all it did was give me what I always wanted anyway.”
The Conspiracist kneels and places a hand on Jackson’s shoulder.
“When I called you my friend earlier, I meant it. I know you Jackson, and I’d like to think I know what makes you, you. That knowledge of right and wrong, that guilt, that self-loathing, without that there’s no you. It’s what keeps you in line. It’s what separates you from the monsters. What that thing did here, it wasn’t you.”
Jackson nods. Conspiracist pulls him to his feet. Jackson then suddenly raises his gun and fires.
A jar on the shelf explodes and the parasite inside it is blown into a black paste. Its brothers in the other jars begin to struggle against their glass barriers. Jackson says nothing, his eyes staring straight out of the mask. He fires again; another jar explodes. Shot after shot rings out as Jackson eliminates the parasites like targets at a carnival shooting gallery. Then there’s only one left. It shrieks and pounds against the glass with its thorax. The final shot comes from Conspiracist.
“So, then, they’re gone.”
“No,” Jackson says. The words come slowly, as if he needs to drag them every step of the way.
“There is one still missing… he took it just before you came.”
Jill was still out of it as Reynolds heaves her onto the medical gurney. He moans.
“Forgot how heavy this suit was. I’ll be glad to finally get her out of it.”
Sylvia doesn’t laugh at his jokes, but then again, she never laughs at his jokes. She produces the same long silvery drill she tried using on Slag. Reynolds glares at the object.
“So what exactly is that thing?”
“A neural uplink drill cable. Needle goes through her skull into the frontal lobe. I’m not sure where exactly this A.I. was planted in her brain, but that would be my best guess. Though if I’m wrong it could scar her brain tissue.”
She aims the needle at the pinnacle of Jill’s forehead near her bangs.
“As I always say, there must be sacrifices for knowledge. As long as they’re not mine.”
Sylvia presses a button on the drill’s side and it begins to whine and spin. It descends towards Jill’s skin slowly. Reynolds nods, somewhat confused.
“Why don’t you just use the USB port?”
Sylvia stops millimeters from Jill’s face.
“The USB port on her back,” he says.
Sylvia pauses for a moment with the needle still in hand.
“Well… Yes, obviously we’re going to use that.”
She places the drill to the side and moves to her computer terminal. Reynolds flips Jill onto her side and begins to unlatch the body armor protecting her. Behind him Sylvia scrounges for a USB cable in the tangled mess of wires inside the small cabinet next to the computer.
“Why didn’t you mention this earlier?”
Reynolds heaves Jill’s breastplate off and slides it to the ground.
“You never asked. I wasn’t even sure what it does, but I thought we aught to try it before you shove a needle through her face.”
He slides his finger down her spine till he finds the USB port just a few inches below her shoulders.
“How do you even know about that?” Sylvia asks.
Reynolds shrugs, “when you spend time looking at a woman’s backside certain things tend to stick out, tattoos, birthmarks, USB ports. It catches your attention… Though I must say, something does look different.”
Sylvia finds a tangled USB cable among the cabinet and yanks it out. John examines Jill’s body, looking for something. Something had changed about her, he knew it. Reynolds paces around to her front end.
“Wait a minute… I see it now. It’s all so obvious. She is different…I think she went up half a cup size. I swear these things are bigger…”
“Reynolds please drag your mind out of the cave,” Sylvia shoots back, “You can ogle her chest later. For now, help me jam this into her backside.”
“Wow Sylvia, phrasing?”
Sylvia doesn’t bother to respond to this. She and Reynolds plug one end of the cord into the towering computer then pull it taught so that it can reach the spot on Jill’s back. Just as soon as the plug enters the hole, Sylvia jumps over the unconscious woman and approaches the computer monitor. With a couple quick keystrokes Sylvia skims through the computer’s menus. The monitor shows the option to download from the uploaded USB port. Sylvia clicks, then stares at the screen. Her mouth drops.
“What? What is this?” she demands of the machine, “What the hell does ‘AI currently on leave’ mean? How does software go ‘on leave’?”
“Screw it,” Reynolds says with a sigh. He flips a revolver into his hand and walks up behind Sylvia, “this was a boring evil sub-plot anyway.”
Sylvia turns towards him just fast enough to catch a speeding pistol-whip to the side of the head. She collapses face first over the computer console. John spins the gun back into the holster.
“I’m sorry to do that Sylvia babe, you got a beautiful face, it’s a sin to damage it like that. That and the possible concussion you probably just received from being knocked out twice in a few hours. That’s really bad for you, trust me.”
He picks her up and leans her limp body against a nearby chair. Blood trickles down from the blow.
“However the good news is that maybe it’ll kill a few brain cells in there. That’ll be good for you, I think. Maybe then you can stop worrying about becoming a living encyclopedia and just get laid for once.”
Her body now comfortably positioned in the chair, John leans back.
“You see I sort of lied earlier; I do find smart women sexy, I just happen to find young, dumb, bimbo blondes a whole lot sexier. Speaking of, you sit here, I’ve got something to do.”
John crosses the room. He yanks the USB cord out unceremoniously and steps up to the gurney Jill lies on. He hops on top of it with her, and straddles her body. He pats her cheek; Jill doesn’t respond.
“Well well Jill, here we are. I’ve been waiting to do this for some time. I had to turn evil, kill your sister, and knock you unconscious, but I finally got what I want, and you are infinity more cooperative then you’ve sometimes been in the past.”
He drags a finger down her face, her neck, across her tank top, then stops. He quickly pulls it back.
“But then again, what is this? Its not like we haven’t done this before. And even though I get what I want, it’s only till you wake up. At which point you will most likely try and kill me. Where’s the fun in that? It’s a one night stand. I’m getting too old for one-night stands, and you ain’t a kid either. Plus, I think I may actually be in love with you. Weird, right? So that’s why I decided to get you a little something.”
John reaches into his pants pocket and grabs a hold of something. He draws his hand out; there’s a squirming, thrashing, screeching parasite between his fingers. He takes a hold of Jill’s chin.
“I was going to get down on one knee, but that’s never been my style. I even got you a diamond too, but I figured mind control was probably a better bet to get you to say yes. So then, Ms. Jillian Harper, will you join me as we cause endless chaos in the name of Sayang, till death or inevitable betrayal do us part?”
John waits, the parasite shrieks, and Jill says nothing.
He brings the parasite to her face. The creature begins to slither up her chin and to her mouth. It moves its tiny legs against her lips trying to pry them open. John reaches down and peels her lips open with his fingers. Jill’s eyes begin to flicker. John grins slyly.
“Don’t worry Jill. It only hurts in the beginning, trust me. Just close your eyes, don’t gag, and breathe through your nose.”
The parasite slips its head into her mouth and begins to descend down. John holds her lips apart as she feebly resists. Then he gets shot in the back.
Instead of dying he just feels numb and paralyzed everywhere beneath his shoulders. He manages to crane his neck to the side. His masked nemesis has appeared at his side.
“Hey, Reynolds,” Conspiracist says.
A punch across the jaw sends him tumbling off the gurney and onto the tiles below. The Conspiracist reaches out and nabs the parasite before it can finally claw itself all the way down Jill’s throat. He tosses it to the floor where it slithers around for a bit before the Conspiracist puts his boot down on it with a hard crunch.
Reynolds tries rolling to his side, the numbness still upon him. He sees Jackson approaching. Jackson nods to Conspiracist,
“I need the water.”
“I used all of mine on us,” Conspiracist says, “here, Jill probably has some.”
Conspiracist spies Jill’s bottle shoved tightly into an ammo box slot. He yanks it out and tosses it towards Jackson.
Reynolds tries to fight back as Jackson pours the bottle of holy water down his throat. He shakes his head violently, screaming and cursing every foul word he knows. All the fighting doesn’t stop the water from entering his body. He convulses, the paralysis wears off, and a fat black bug propels from his mouth. Jackson takes it and squeezes till his palm is filled with its greasy black blood.
Jackson helps Reynolds to his feet. Reynolds blinks, and breathes in rapid bursts.
“Hey Reynolds,” Conspiracist yells, “what did you do to Jill? She won’t wake up.”
“Oh, that. She’s just out of it. I hit her with two of Jackson’s paralyzer rounds.”
“I can’t believe I ever gave those to you.” Jackson mutters.
The Conspiracist scans the room and finds the other unconscious woman propped up in a chair in the corner.
“What about her?” he asks.
“Yeah, she isn’t as well off,” Reynolds says, “She’s still got a parasite in her. That and she’s been knocked unconscious twice, and I think the last pistol whipping was slightly more brutal then necessary.”
“Right,” Conspiracist says, “Unlike all those pistol whippings which have just the right amount of brutality.”
Jackson tosses the water bottle back to him. Conspiracist crosses the room and tips Sylvia’s chin up. The water flows down her throat and the parasite crawls out with far less fuss. The blood on the side of her head clears up and her eyes flicker open. Sylvia coughs back into consciousness. The Conspiracist stops pouring water just before the bottle taps out. He quickly squishes the final parasite and helps Sylvia out of her chair.
“Uhhhh,” she moans, “what happened?”
Reynolds begins counting on his fingers.
“You were kidnapped, had a mind-control parasite inserted into your body, went evil, designed a doomsday device called ‘the neural inhibitor’, got punched out by some chick, then tried to download Jack from Jill’s brain. Then I pistol whipped you, and then you woke up, and then it was now.”
Sylvia rubs her forehead.
The Conspiracist approaches Jill and pours what little remains of the holy water down Jill’s throat. She wakes, but the bottle empties out too soon. Reynolds leans over the body.
“Jill are you okay?”
“mmmmm, there are ladybugs under my skin…”
The Conspiracist quickly turns to Reynolds who shrugs in response.
“What,” Reynolds says, “Don’t look at me. All I tried to do was shove the big insect down her throat, I don’t know anything about anything else.”
“It’s just the paralyzer,” Jackson comments, “It works a lot like a general anesthetic. Like you’d get at the dentist or something. Jill, do you still have numbness in your limbs?”
“The ladybugs are trying to fly away… why you fly away ladybugs?…bzzzzzzzzzzz.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Keijo waits in the parked limo, scanning the business section of the Khazan Guardian. A limo in Moebius isn’t unheard of, but it draws attention far too quickly. The Church of Order initiate in the driver’s seat drums his fingers against the steering wheel impatiently. The streets outside are silent in the warming morning glow. A door opens on the near side of a bordered up office park. A man in a tan suit walks out; Keijo turns her head at just that moment, as if she senses his appearance before she even sees him.
The man in the tan suit was carrying a clichéd silvery attaché case. He walks directly to the car and knocks on the window. Keijo opens the door and he slides in.
“Everything went ok?” Keijo asks.
The man nods.
“Just fine. Interesting guy though. Shook his hand; afraid I might have to get it amputated now.”
“Trust me,” Keijo says “if Scourge had infected you with anything, you would have been dead before you reached the sidewalk.”
She gestures towards the case and he cautiously passes it to her. Once it’s in her hands he slowly sits back against the cushions of the limo, putting distance between himself and its contents. Keijo opens the case; six vials of something with an appearance as innocuous as saline sit between foam cut outs. Keijo smiles with glee.
“Miss Namura,” the man says, “ Are you sure its safe to be around those things?”
“Nothing to worry about. And please, call me Keijo from now on Detective… I’m so sorry, what was it again?”
“Villas. Detective Martin Villas. I was Jesse’s partner, and shortly before her accident she introduced me to the Church and helped me get my ‘gift’.”
“Yes, poor Jesse. She was quite reliable… oh well. I guess that makes you my new Jesse, doesn’t it Detective Villas?”
He nods. His eyes are almost too blue, his face too open, and all of him far too innocent to be trusted.
“I will follow Sayang wherever her prophet shall point me.”
“Excellent. Then lets get started, shall we? The first thing I need is—”
Keijo stops suddenly, her eyes roll up, her mouth hangs open. The detective leans in.
She stays there, frozen in the moment, listening. Then her head drops back down and everything returns as it once was.
“So sorry detective. It seems something has gone wrong with our plan.”
“Wrong? Is there anyway I can take care of it for you?”
“That’s sweet of you, but I think it’s unnecessary. It’s just a minor setback in a major operation. Sad too, I had always wanted to see if the neural inhibitor actually worked. But don’t bother yourself with it; I just sent an old ally onto it.”
“Let me guess, the infamous Legion I’ve heard so much about?” the Detective’s voice tweeks like an excited schoolboy as he says the name. Keijo shakes her head.
“No, Legion is needed elsewhere at the moment. Besides, he would be unneeded overkill in this situation. I sent someone a little bit more experienced in handling these particular troublemakers. Not as destructive as Legion, but hardly what you’d call subtle. However, what you can do for me is knock on the driver’s window and tell Chet to head to the church and not the compound. He’ll know what you mean.”
The detective nods and follows his prophet’s words. She meanwhile places the case at her side and traces her finger around its silvery metal.
John helps attach the chest plate to Jill’s body. It clicks on with a heavy thunk. He then places her assault rifle in her hands. She clasps it to her chest with both arms.
“There you go,” John says.
“Mmmmmmmmmmmmkay,” Jill replies still in her daze, “Hey John boy, you said something earlier. When I was lying down you were saying a lot of stuff. A lotta lotta stuff. What was it?”
“Huh. Oh that; it was nothing. Don’t worry.”
“Mmmmmmmmmkay. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Where’s Jack? Jaaaaaack?”
The earth shakes. Everyone in the room notices it. Jill stumbles a bit at the vibration.
“Jack? Is that you? Did you just shake up my head?”
“No Jill,” Reynolds replies, “That wasn’t in your head Jill, that was real.”
“But my head is real… How dare you say otherwise. That’s mean, I’m not talking to you anymore.”
John sighs. The ground shakes again. This time everyone is sent stumbling back by the force. Jill falls flat on her ass and can’t stop laughing. The pristine floor ruptures into chunks as something sharp, jagged, and fleshy, stabs its way upwards. The Angels slink backwards with Reynolds pulling Jill along the floor while she makes motorboat noises.
The stabbing limb strikes upwards again. This time it curls back down and grabs a hold of the floor. The limb is sharpened at one end like a pincer and is basted in bloody red slime. Muscles beneath the taut-pulled skin begin to bulge as the limb pulls the rest of its host’s mass through the floor. A form emerges with dozens of spindly legs, snapping pincers, and whipping tails, all colored black like the parasite bugs but covered in that crimson ooze. Its mouth, if it could be called as such, parts sideways to reveal rows of teeth clogged with fleshy gunk and bits of unprocessed bone. Its jaw is unhinged like a serpent, allowing the mouth to contain those oversized dagger. Its face is like a man’s only over stretched and turned leathery black. Reynolds stares at the beast as it alternatively shrieks and roars. Its form was inhumanly huge, but once he saw that face, he almost instinctively knew what he was looking at.
“Is that… Parasite?”
“Whoa,” Jill says as she struggles to her feet, “that is one ugly ladybug.”
The creature manages to push itself completely out of the hole it had just created, then turns towards the Angels. Its mouth hangs open. Jackson pulls his gun out.
Conspiracist and Reynolds follow suit and draw their weapons, four pistols are aimed towards the beast. They all fire.
Shells fall like sand in an hourglass. The beast shrieks as bullets dig into its head and torso. Jackson, Conspiracist and Reynolds shoot every bullet they have into the creature. Then they run out. The creature oozes blood from every hole. It gnashes spiny yellow teeth and steps forward. It is not happy. John lowers his weapons.
“Damn. So, run?”
“Run” Jackson and Conspiracist say in tandem.
They sprint and the creature begins to awkwardly scrape and claw its way closer to them. Its first steps are slow but it begins to gallop as its legs stretch further. John tugs Jill as he runs; her legs work about as effectively as if they had been made of Jello.
“Johnnnnny, slow down; my legs are still all buzzy”
“Jill come on, you have to run.”
“I can’t. Can’t, can’t, can’t . Will you carry me?”
The beast is lurching closer. Conspiracist is already at the elevator door and jabs the call button repeatedly. Sylvia runs in behind Jill and picks her up by the shoulder; John lifts by the other shoulder and they carry Jill across the room as the beast whips at their heels with scale-plated tendrils.
“Thanks,” John says.
Sylvia huffs as she carries the blonde as well as the plated titanium armor all around her.
“Yeah don’t mention it.”
“And sorry I pistol-whipped you earlier. I know it was a crappy thing to do, and even though I was turned evil, it really wasn’t,”
“John is now the time?”
He shuts up until they reach the elevator where the doors almost magically open just as they need them. They all slam inside and Jackson elbows the close-door button. The parasite creature’s talon scrapes against the sides of the doors as they close. The elevator floats upward. They can all still hear bestial shrieks and the sounds of fierce pounding against the solid door to the elevator shaft. The Conspiracist shakes his head.
“I really hope it can’t claw through metal.”
Another sound, the sound of giant monster shearing through metal doors like phonebooks, then echoes up the shaft. The Conspiracist sighs.
At the top of the shaft the elevator opens in the false outhouse and the five Angels pour out. They’re running away from the elevator, gaining ground, when the creature explodes out of the shaft shredding the elevator outwards. It claws its way after them and shrieks. Reynolds stops tugging Jill and stands his ground.
“Running doesn’t seem to be working, and shooting it just makes it angry. I’m up for new ideas.”
Parasite runs closer. Then something speeds into it like a bolt of furry lightning. The insectoid creature howls in pain as Remington begins pounding it with his fists. It wraps a thick pincer around the werewolf and flings it airborne; Remington comes flailing down but is caught by Slag. The impact isn’t even enough to knock her off balance. Remington quickly pounces to his feet; Parasite roars back.
“Ugly f*cker ain’t he?” Slag says.
“You don’t know the half of it,” Remington snarls, “Whatever you do, don’t get near its mouth.”
Remington springs away; Parasite lashes towards him with a giant tendrilly claw, but only bashes the pavement. Slag pools molten ore in her fists and starts letting out volleys towards the beast. It hisses as the ore burns and begins slashing its massive limbs in her direction. A holy spike impales one of its claws against the ground. The creature pulls the spike from the ground with ease, uprooting chunks of earth as it does. Helenas stands behind Slag and loads another round into her rifle.
Jackson and the Conspiracist reload and join the group piling on attacks at the frenzied creature. Sylvia carries Jill a little safer distance away. As Reynolds reloads his pistols the android Jack dashes up to his side.
“So, let me guess,” Jack says, “That’s Koji.”
“Yup,” John says, “All twenty enraged feet of him… wait, didn’t I kill you?”
“Hmmm? No, different guy, same body. Its me, Jack. Speaking of, how is my old apartment doing?”
“Jaaaaaaaack, John was mean to me,” Jill moans from the ground, “He shot me, then proposed, and tried to shove his centipede down my throat, and said that my head isn’t real.”
Remington is tossed through the background behind them and the parasite creature squirms closer. John and Jack remain unaware of its proximity.
“Oh,” Jack replies, “So I see you’ve met ‘high Jill’. Yeah, she can be fun like this. What was that about you proposing?”
“It wasn’t what it sounds like,” John says.
“Really. What about shoving your centipede down her throat?”
“That one is actually exactly what it sounds like. But we can talk about this another time. Right now we have to deal with Super-Parasite over there.”
“Yeah, sure,” Jack says, “I’ll come up with a tactical outlay on it. He should be dead in no time.”
A fleshy spear the width of a telephone pole shoots through Jack’s chest. The other end is attached to Parasite’s widening maw; it whips the leathery tongue back and Jack is reeled into the rows of teeth. Parasite shreds the android into pieces, then ejects it back onto the ground, unpleased by the taste. John sighs.
Slag, Helenas, Jackson, Conspiracist, and Remington continue shooting, burning, or punching the beast, but only seem to draw more of its ire. John watches this and shakes his head.
“Come on Reynolds, think. What would Jack do? What would Tony do? This thing’s body is stronger than before, its muscles are bigger, and it can chase you down like a dog…”
“Mind…” Jill mutters still stupefied.
“Agility, body, strength, mind,” she says, “Its transformation raised its agility, body, and strength, but Koji seems to not have much mind left. So you attack its mind.”
John pauses. He turns and sees Slag getting slashed across the arm. Boiling metal blood spills in an arc. Remington picks her off the ground before the monster can finish her off, while Jackson and the Conspiracist pepper its head with more fire. John turns back to Jill.
“Jill, that is like, the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard. How would I attack its mind? I don’t have any mental bullets.”
“Well just shoot it in the head.”
“That doesn’t make any sense, the head is still a part of the body. I might as well just try waiting around hoping it dies of a massive aneurism.”
The creature lets out a screeching moan that draws his attention away. It whips its head back and forth violently, spews spit like a sprinkler, then collapses onto the earth with a crash. Its eyes roll over and its spiny tongue lolls uselessly on the dirt. It exhales one final breath, then dies. John just stares at Parasite’s blank face, his own mouth gaping open. Jill begins to slowly make her way to her feet.
“Ha!... Told you it would work… You so owe me a soda now.”
“But, but, this doesn’t make any sense. What the hell just happened?”
John watches the creature lay there, motionless. A young grey-eyed woman walks into his peripheral vision and struts towards the creature. He doesn’t recognize her, but takes note of the odd mechanical eyepiece strapped to her head. The woman reaches the creature just as the others begin to slowly creep nearer.
“Huh,” she says, “It was okay for me to waste this one right? He wasn’t another one of your teammates right?”
“No,” Remington says, “that one was an enemy. Is he—”
“Dead?” she asks. She then kicks it hard in the head. No response.
“Yeah. He’s pretty dead.”
“Man,” Remington says, “After all these years… I was really hoping I’d get to do it.”
The Conspiracist holsters his pistol.
“For the record, we softened him up for you.”
Sarah flips the eyepiece off.
Posted 06 July 2012 - 04:45 PM
The sun had risen high by now, and it’s close to eight in the morning. Jill glugs away at the fresh water bottle then hands it back to Helenas.
“Are you ok?” Helenas asks.
Jill’s mind begins to clear. She looks Helenas up and down.
“Am I ok? What about you? What are you wearing?”
Helenas turns cherry red and grits her teeth.
“I would prefer not to speak of it.”
“You look like you just escaped from the biker gang in Mad Max.”
“I said I don’t wish to speak of it!”
Sarah walks towards the pair. She holds a decapitated android head in her hands and tosses it to Jill.
“Here. Are you going to put him back inside you again?”
“Yeah,” Jill says, “Well probably. I mean, not for awhile. It might be nice to go a few days in peace.”
Further away, the Conspiracist approaches Remington and Slag who sit together on an outdoor table.
“Remington. Glad to see you’re not trying to eat me anymore. I’m guessing you got that out of your system?”
Before he can answer, Slag says it for him.
“Oh yeah, he’s still a little grouchy, but at heart he’s just a big, fluffy, puppy. Aren’t you boy? Yes you are, Yessss you are.”
“Biiiiig Flufffffy Puppy…”
She begins to tussle the fur around his face and seems less than inclined to stop. Remington is hardly pleased, but Conspiracist says nothing to divert the conversation.
Meanwhile Tony and Merci converse with Jackson, Sylvia, and Reynolds. They are all standing over Koji, “Parasite”, Ito’s monstrous corpse . Merci can barely tolerate looking at the thing.
“Sorry I couldn’t be here to help put this thing down,” Tony says, “So, what exactly happened to Koji to turn him into this?”
“I think he fully transformed,” Jackson answers, “Everything we’ve seen before must have only been a half transformation. He turned into the total monster he was on the inside.”
“Then why would Keijo keep him around like this?”
A gurgling comes from the monster’s body. The men all whip their guns towards it. The creature’s gullet bursts and a half dozen blackened larva stage parasites come squirming out. The men all pull their guns away as they watch the creatures begin to slowly die outside of their host body. Sylvia picks one of the abominations up between her fingers as it enters its death throws.
“Huh. So, that’s where these things come from.”
Tony glares down at the revolting grubs.
“So, what, Keijo kept him around so he could spew out monster babies?”
“I guess,” Jackson replies, “makes about as much sense as anything else she’d do.”
Jackson and Tony continue speaking. Sylvia examines the creature and Merci has retreated from the scene. Reynolds slowly backs away from the group and looks towards Jill. She’s back on her feet and Helenas and Sarah are hovering nearby. Jill nods towards him.
“Hey John, can I talk to you for a minute?”
He stares back sheepishly.
“Ummmm, yeah, sure.”
He and Jill walk a ways off from the other groups. Jill turns her back towards them and speaks to Reynolds as quietly as possible.
“So I wanted to talk about what happened earlier.”
John looks down at the ground.
“Yeah, I got to apologize for that,”
“Don’t bother,” Jill says, “I know you well enough to separate what was you, and what was the parasite in you. At least I thought I did. But I wanted to know if you at least partially meant what you said back there.”
“I don’t know Jill. It made me do those things, and also it didn’t. It took away inhibitions and doubt, so yeah, some part of me wanted you badly enough to kidnap, assault and murder. But that part of me is gone now.”
“Maybe,” she says, “But the parasite was just feeding on the ambitions you already had. I mean, you and I have, well you know. What was going to become of that?”
He laughs, but nothing’s funny.
“I don’t know. I didn’t really think about it. Why can’t we just go back to the way things were. Awkward office romance stuff, but with guns.”
“Yeah, that’s not really going to work for me anymore. In fact, we kind of have to decide pretty soon.”
John raises an eyebrow.
“How soon exactly?”
“Well, I’ve been having this nausea lately…”
In the distance Helenas, Sarah, and Merci watch the two.
“What do you think they’re talking about?” Sarah asks
“Perhaps they are planning on further tactics now that everyone is free.”
“Tactics huh? Is that what the kids are calling it today?”
Merci doesn’t explain further, so Helenas redirects her attention back towards the pair in the distance. Jill says something short to John. He pauses after she speaks. Helenas can’t hear the words, but she can tell he seems to be stammering as he replies. Jill speaks again, once more only saying only a few words. John nods and breathes out heavily. He replies with something else very short, then smiles. Jill smiles too and grasps his hand. They walk back towards the group. Helenas meets them halfway.
“I hate to intrude, but, well, honestly what the hell is going on? What’s wrong?”
Jill and John both look to each other. John nods towards Jill. She looks towards Helenas.
“Well, yeah,” she says, “about that. Nothing’s wrong per-se, but we’ve got good news and bad news. Bad news is we’re quitting the Angels of Mercy.”
“Wait, what? Why?”
“Well the good news is its not forever,” John says, “At least not for Jill. I actually have been considering semi-retirement for some time, and after all this, well, it seems like a good excuse. Jill might be back later if being around me drives her to kill.”
“Which means there’s a good chance I’ll be back as soon as I can. This is really like a sabbatical for me. John and I have some things to work out, but even after that’s done, I won’t be back for at least nine months to a year. ”
“I don’t understand,” Helenas says, “Why would you two choose this so quickly, why now, why only give yourselves nine months…Oh…Ohhhhhhhh.”
“Yeah,” Jill says. Helenas sort of half-sits, half-collapses onto the ground. Jill plops down next to her.
“Sorry we didn’t tell you what we were doing earlier, but we were afraid you wouldn’t approve. We didn’t tell anyone. Well, Jack knew, but it was kind of hard to hide it from him. Anyway, while we’re gone I want you to keep the Missing Hour cell busy for us. Hire some new blood. Can you do that for me?”
“You have my word. I will continue the fight. But I don’t want you to forget me.”
“Helen, yesterday I promised that I would kill you to stop you from becoming corrupted by an evil cult. There’s no way we’re forgetting you. I want you to be with us every step of the way. Especially when I’m screaming in pain and I need a holy water epidural. You wouldn’t want to let doctors heal me, would you?”
Helenas grips her fists tight.
“Arrogant, self-righteous heretics spitting in God’s eyes.”
“Right, them. And I promise you that if it’s a girl we’ll name her Jesse-Helenas.”
“NO PROMISES,” John yells from the distance.
Helenas nods and hugs Jill with tears in her eyes. Jill stands and leaves with John while the others continue examining the scene. They walk away from the compound and into the glare of the sun. Helenas watches them become dots in the distance. She then wipes her eyes, then quickly looks around. She spies Sarah standing alone and leaning against the side of a barrack. Helen leans against it with her.
“So, you wouldn’t happen to be looking for a job?”
Posted 06 July 2012 - 04:46 PM
Posted 06 July 2012 - 05:52 PM
I'd like to point out now that Sarah Maroon has officially been a member of all four teams and her canon is all ballzed up. I like this one though, so I'm gonna shlepp her over to the Angels
Posted 06 July 2012 - 06:45 PM
Posted 06 July 2012 - 07:28 PM
Posted 06 July 2012 - 09:21 PM
The only thing I didn't get was the description of one of the girls lips being like two dolphins. I think I know what you meant, just not sure why you decided to describe it like that. Sounded awkward to me. Also, The Conspiracist felt really campy with the team here. He's really not that nice, but other than that great job.
Posted 06 July 2012 - 09:40 PM
Posted 06 July 2012 - 09:42 PM
You really killed him off? I assumed he'd make some crazy comeback.
Posted 06 July 2012 - 10:06 PM
You really killed him off? I assumed he'd make some crazy comeback.
Dead, Sarah fried his brain.
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