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#13737142 Apr 17, 2018 at 05:05 PM
333 Posts
Isn't the answer "Jinn, Why not?" :P :P

Have you SEEN his abs in some of his art? It's like DANG. :P
[Also I'm not sure Thundrax would fit in that cake.]

Teleios Clone Mark II: I wish Teleios would create some perfect women. It’s lonely out here!
Snookums! The Snookii! Homicidal Cheerleader! Klepto Elf! Molly! East Briar Institute
#13737870 Apr 18, 2018 at 06:10 AM
328 Posts
#13737127 @Jarnefeldt wrote:

Jinn, why? Jinn, stahp.



More like Jinn keep going.
#13737965 Apr 18, 2018 at 08:04 AM
122 Posts
Sweet. You can deny it all you want, but everyone wants a piece.
PRIMUS Database - Artos | Black Ice | Jinn
#13747825 Apr 20, 2018 at 05:07 PM · Edited over 4 years ago
333 Posts
Glad you guys liked it! :)


This one is for SonofAsgaard. Happy birthday :P
It's something of a reply to: This.
"K"


"Franklin, huh? I never woulda guessed that was your real name. You always seemed more like a... like a Morris maybe, or a Murray. I mean guys named Murray will mess you up."
Linden leaned a shoulder on the finely carved headstone and looked around. It was warm in the late afternoon sun and the polished stone glinted like an expensive car. The graveyard was smallish, and on a hill behind an old church. The new leaves of ivy crawling up over the wall by the gate rustled in the slight wind and the swift shadows of birds coloured the grass.

"I know the fuzz still has your body, and it's not you-you in there." She gestured with one hand at the mound of heaped earth. "It's the sentiment of the thing, really. Closure. A last monument to who you were by your friends and the people that knew you best. All that shit." The blonde girl tucked a loose wisp of hair behind one ear and looked at the headstone again. She didn't look more then sixteen, lean and leggy yet with just enough curves in all the right places. She wore scuffed jeans and a black T-shirt with RAMONES scrawled across the torso. "Fuck. Franklin. I never expected to be sittin' here you know? I wonder if you saw this comin'. They say you went kinda crazy there, shot up the hospital on some kinda vendetta against a chick. She your baby-moma or somethin'?"

The earth of the gravesite had settled. It was a few days past the burial and most of the mourners had long departed. A few wilted flowers and tokens remained resting in the dirt. It was kind of depressing really, she reflected. Dirt and a box of memories, and that's the best anyone could get, sinner or saint. At least the dirt still smelled good, the clean damp smell, like a newly turned garden. That rich loamy ... earthyness. Was there a better word to describe it then that? She wasn't sure. She made a mental note to check a thesaurus when she got home. "I dunno if we were really friends-- Franklin. Maybe we were. If we weren't I suppose I wouldn't be sittin' here. We're both super soldiers, made to kill, made to like it. It is satisfying." The girl paused then, looking out over the graveyard, and past it at the woody hills beyond, the town in the distance. "Is that why they put you here? It's a good spot for sniping. And the view ain't too bad either."

"Saved each others life -kinda- a couple times, owed each other a favour or two, knew some of the same crowd. Maybe that's normal in this line of work. Hell if I know. We shared a couple drinks. I dunno how you could stomach some of that cheap-ass piss. " She patted the edge of the gravestone fondly. "But I always admired your style. You had good taste in clothes, and even better taste in hardwear. You made what we do look easy, and I know it ain't. Plus you made it look good doing it. Anyone can look badass --but you took it one level above. If that means anything to ya."

The girl looked around the graveyard again and sighed. Then she shifted into a crouch and slipped one hand into the loose dark soil and dug a small hole, maybe a foot deep, maybe a little more. She blocked the dirt from sliding back in with one hand, and with her other reached into a small plain backpack, and pulled out a wrinkled brown paper bag. From that she removed a glass bottle and held it to the gravestone, as if for approval.
"If I remembered right, you fancied this brand." The sun flared off the curves, a hot white, throwing shimmering amber onto the grass beyond. Then swiftly she tucked it into the hole and packed the earth around and over it. "Where ever you are Franklin. Have a drink on me."

Then Linden stood, dusting off her hands, batted grass off her blue jeans and picked up the back pack. She shouldered it, looked around the quiet graveyard a last time and shrugged at the headstone. A Robin sang in a tree down the block. "Be seein' ya K." She waved and walked out, into the world once more.

Teleios Clone Mark II: I wish Teleios would create some perfect women. It’s lonely out here!
Snookums! The Snookii! Homicidal Cheerleader! Klepto Elf! Molly! East Briar Institute
#13819783 Jul 21, 2018 at 11:25 PM · Edited 4 years ago
333 Posts
Linden isn't stalking the doctor, I swear! They just live in the same town?


Linden liked to watch people, and not in the creepy sort of way... though she did occasionally stumble onto that. It's amazing what people did when they thought no one was watching. It was both stress relief and entertainment for her and the news she got this week? Was particularly stressful. One hand idly strayed to her lower stomach and she frowned to herself.
The young blonde had set up in westside in the wrecked but stable upper floors of what had probably once been a office building before Doctor D hit the city, and the urban blight afterward made the area worse. Black Betty- her favorite sniper rifle- was set up in a broken window with a good field of view.

She had watched a brown-haired hobo meander from trash can to dumpster to refuse pile, searching them for plastic bottles and other recyclables. She watched an elderly lady tug on a lame-wheeled cart full of groceries down the cracked sidewalk, topped off with a large parcel of toilet paper. Why did one old lady need that much? She didn't want to think about that too long. And over there a group of teenage boys in gang colours getting tossed around a dirty alley by a couple of those baseball uniformed weirdos. Honestly, urban renewal by baseball bat, really?

Then... up there on a rooftop a surprisingly familiar figure, slumped amid the ducts and pipes. He was facing something and she moved Betty slightly to follow the direction he looked, to watch police milling around a fish market. Interesting. Linden never understood the point of robbing one of those. You had to be REALLY hungry, right? She moved the rifle sight back to the figure then blinked in confusion as he jerked up as if startled and gestured and seemed to yell at... nothing? She scanned the rooftop. Except for some sleepy pigeons cooing on the ledge, there was no one up there.

"Damn Crackbaby, for a doctor you got some bad habits." She watched him light up a smoke and puff and keep talking to the air. Maybe there was someone invisible up there? The blonde couldn't tell.
Then Linden blinked. He had fallen over like he had been poleaxed. Hit? Shot or something else? She couldn't tell from this angle. Slowly the girl started to dismantle the gun, and clean it, looking out the broken window in his direction now and then- though without the scope he wasn't visible. It was about a half hour after that, with everything else packed away but the sight, she looked through it once more, and he was gone.
The pigeons however, remained.

Teleios Clone Mark II: I wish Teleios would create some perfect women. It’s lonely out here!
Snookums! The Snookii! Homicidal Cheerleader! Klepto Elf! Molly! East Briar Institute
#13831329 Aug 06, 2018 at 10:32 PM · Edited 4 years ago
333 Posts
Linden.



July 10 2018.
FUCKSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHIT
*The above scribbled out, the line below reads only*
At least it was Kevin.


July 13 2018.
Shot clone K today while she worked on her car. Four times then I shot her jaw off. Virth okayed it: she needed some work done.
Then I shot Virth, because the sunnivabitch knew for a couple weeks and said nothing. He's pissed at me. It may have been a bad idea. But I felt better after doing it.
Looks like I'll have to take summer school. Promoting Lyraa to Cheerteam captain.


July 27 2018.
Took a vampire home from the goth bar today. God he was a mess. But he has a great ass and amazing hair. Letting him use Safehouse 3. Turns out he's trying to reform after like five hundred years of mangling the female population of his kingdom in Elfland. Also his boyfriend knocked him up. HOW? I almost don't want to know.
Hasn't tried anything funny though and he's got some crazy stories. Will see how it goes.


July 29 2018.
Michel has decided his cover story will be Mike, my brother recently returned from years in Europe after a failed business attempt. Which works. We're both blonde and he's kinda skinny. I know Missus De Alfonso next door has been eyeing him, but that's okay, she's half blind. Knows all the neighbourhood gossip and the mooks leave her alone. Which is good, I mean Safehouse 3 is in the shitass worst part of town. Had to explain "urban blight" of the rustbelt to Michel today, he didn't expect it here.
Also we went to Ikea and got some stuff to fix the place up. He said he'll probably be staying a while.


July 31 2018.
Turns out Michel is something of a handyman, he ripped out and redid the leaking roof over the second bedroom. I had a bunch of buckets sitting in a plastic kiddie pool to catch it when it rained, but this is much better. Getting it properly done was more then I wanted to spend on Safehouse 3 but he did a really nice job. He's sent for his last two "Blood Knights." They're some sort of necromantically made metahuman bodyguards I guess. He's worried about his boyfriends men arriving to shank him. One did show up, name of "Kris the Immortal" but he was very polite about it. He killed a bunch of the giant spiders on his way in, storm sewers in this part of town are full of them. I don't know if they were a lab experiment gone wrong, a villain's pet or what, but they're big and aggressive and their bristles itch if you get them on your skin. I think they're some sort of tarantula.
I think he's going to leave Michel alone.


August 1 2018.

The elf found Michel and me as I was showing him around town. We were just out of the local history museum and she came running up, batted Michel in the knee with her baseball bat of rusty nails and tried to spit on him. Since she spits acid it's good he blocked it.
There was a big argument and it was WAY too public for my taste so we retired to an alley. She called Han, and Michel teleported out before he arrived. And then the elf got even more angry with me and threw a knife in my leg.
The cook's been training her well, she hamstrung me right off. I'm fine now though. She apologized. Didn't go back to safehouse 3 because I know she and Han would follow me right there.


August 2 2018.
Went off and talked to my handlers at UNTIL today. I hate going down there. The shrinks are so goddamn smug. Ground Control didn't have anything for me, and I think Major Tom is plotting things again. Scuttlebutt says he tortured one of Michel's boyfriends minions to death in the spring. Something about people from alternate dimensions not having human rights? There was an inquiry and he got suspended a month without pay, but he's back now.
Grey, one of the guys at Ground control asked to see me after we were done. She doesn't talk, I think she's got some sort of sonic based magic. She admits to being on the Dark Side of the Force. Which is how she knew I had "problems". She's the only person that told me I had other options then keeping it. Which I have been told is not an option... but it was nice that SOMEONE said that.
Michel scolded me for being a selfish prick today. Said I reminded him of him in his youth. But I liked hurting people too much and I wouldn't learn from going to jail. Also told me he didn't think I was really a sociopath.
I don't know if that's true.


August 4 2018.
Michel scolded me again. There's some irony there, the warlock-vampire that's been mangling people for like five hundred years is telling me I'm unrepentantly worse then he is. [Is that a word? Note to self: look it up.] He told me his boyfriend is looking for a wife, haha, maybe I'll run off and join the Vikings for a lark.
I keep puking in the morning now. God this sucks.


August 6 2018.
I have joined the Vikings. Michel said he washes his hands of me. This place is pretty cool, but it isn't what I was expecting, like, at all. It's big, and has this martial-Victorian sort of feel. Michel's boyfriend talked to me for like two minutes then handed me off to some snake bitch who told me she'd fuck me over if I didn't toe the line. They gave me this fabulous dress - its beautiful but goddamn, how do chicks walk in these? because my normal clothes aren't "appropriate attire". And then I sat around "Emperor Sigmund's" audience hall for a couple hours. Really comfy chairs, I'll give him that. Turns out he really IS being pressed to marry, and finally decided to marry one of his generals. I think that's the snake bitch's mom. I got handed off to "Kris the Immortal"- the same guy that came to see Michel. Turns out he's got a harem and I'm Wench Number Eight.
The other chicks are pretty chill, they offered to teach me magic. But I'm wondering if this wasn't a bad idea.

P.S. I hope Kevin is okay. I left him a note. That is such a crap way to break up with someone. He's probably pissed.

Teleios Clone Mark II: I wish Teleios would create some perfect women. It’s lonely out here!
Snookums! The Snookii! Homicidal Cheerleader! Klepto Elf! Molly! East Briar Institute
#13928700 Dec 25, 2018 at 06:47 PM
333 Posts
Have you met Consuelo yet? I know some of you haven't. She's the daughter of Snookums and Icarus, a psionic geneticist from another galaxy. In a family of clones, they had the baby the "old fashioned" way. She'll be a year old in January.

"Baby's First Christmas"

Consuelo woke slowly and with a touch of confusion. She sat up in her crib, kicked off the blanket and looked around. The building was quiet, the usual soft hum of machinery from the labs, the stasis tank in the corner unused and gently bubbling away.
The baby was a meta but so far the only powers she had shown in her just-short of one year life was astonishing psionic abilities. She knew her older brother Daedalus was asleep in his room in the basement, felt the familiar presence of her Mother and Father together, and that of her uncle Ithikos further down the hall. Outside she sensed the scruffy coyote that had taken to lairing under the woodshed out back over the summer. She loved listening to her "Dog-thing" sing.
But to her mind there was someone else here, a stranger, and that had woken her. It wasn't a bad presence, or a dark one, or full of strange alien thoughts, or needed help in desperation, like some that came to this old building. They were warm and happy and... comfortable.

Consuelo stood and carefully grasped the top bar of her crib and heaved herself over to hang, feet dangling for a moment, until she dropped to the floor. One of her toys, a plush duck was beside it and distracted she reached to pet it. then she felt the stranger again, moving now, in the living room, amused and...enjoyment? flashing up to her, and she left the duck and crawled to the nursery door and reached for the knob and like she had seen everyone else do. Without her touching it, it turned, the door opening just a little, and she scampered off in her brown puppy-dog onesie down the long dark hall to the kitchen, past that, to peek around the edge of the couch. And it was there she saw the stranger, a tall man, shadowed slightly by the bright lights of the family's Christmas tree, twinkling merrily.
He wore a long burgundy coat of some thick fabric, with a slight pattern in the weave, trimmed in a soft ermine fur. His pants were darker, nearly a charcoal and his fur-topped boots came to mid calf, black and lovingly polished. His beard was silver grey and braided with a golden ring holding it in place and his cheeks and nose were a bit pink, as though he had just spent some time outside. He was bending to put something under the tree.

Consuelo had never been the most people-friendly baby, not too thrilled by the strange mental touch of other people, ones she didn't know, wanting to hold her and fuss at her.... but she toddled right up to the strange man and hugged his right boot, about the only part of him she could reach, burbling happily.

The man looked down in surprise- then chuckled, and knelt to brush the girl's sleep tousled hair. "Hello Consuelo."
She coo'd softly at her name.
He grinned, and from the plate left on the side table beside the tree, where Daedalus had left cookies, and now were only crumbs, he picked up a small morsel that hadn't been there before, a reindeer-shaped animal cracker. "I do not think your Mother will object." He murmured and gave it to the baby. Consuelo took it and gummed it quite happily, letting him go to sit on her rump beside the table. It tasted of cinnamon and brown sugar and she ate it quickly.
The man kept an eye on the baby as he bent to put more items under the tree, a few small ones on the table, all lovingly wrapped and ribboned. A folded note was placed beside the empty plate.
Consuelo drooped, staring at the man, at the gentle light of the tree, and didn't stir when the stranger took a small silver snow-flake embroidered blanket from his bag to wrap around her, and, making a little space amid the gifts, laid the baby down.

The clock in the kitchen chimed Midnight.
The coyote outside looked up at the soulful stars burning coldly overhead and whispered hoarsely. "Ya'at'eeh Kishmesh."
Her little fingers curled over the soft hem and Consuelo closed her eyes. The man waited a moment to make sure the baby was asleep- then picked up his large bag, winked at her, and touched a gloved finger to his nose... and vanished.

Leaving one little girl with quite the story to 'tell' psionicly in the morning, when her family woke up to see with glee what Father Christmas had left them.

Teleios Clone Mark II: I wish Teleios would create some perfect women. It’s lonely out here!
Snookums! The Snookii! Homicidal Cheerleader! Klepto Elf! Molly! East Briar Institute
#14237271 Oct 28, 2019 at 05:39 PM
333 Posts
-For a writing prompt!-
"The Walk Home"

"November is... Nilch'its'osi. That means..." Billy Nez paused, and sipped his slushy for a moment. English was still not quite comfortable with him. "Slender Winds. December is the month of Big Winds."
"So no Halloween down south?" Linden grinned at him, walking along side. She was about a head taller them the slim Navajo youth, though they seemed of a similar age. They had just stepped out of a small convenience store, passing the window hung with posters advertising the local lottery and a hand written note looking for a lost cat. The blonde girl had walked in to buy a coke and Billy had been there, comparing prices at the slushy machine, so she bought two of those instead, the big ones. That way they both could have the half-frozen overly sugared glop.
"In the calendar of, ah, Spiritual events, no. But it is celebrated a little, now. There is the costumes and the candy and many pranks and sometimes, frightening stories. The children like it, and it reinforces some of the behavioral taboos, as well as an excuse to have fun. The towns are small, and many live outside, so they have parties at the chapter houses and schools." He nodded, shaggy gray-brown hair bobbing. "Halloween itself is... Doo Hoshkal Ba Haz'a. The thirty-first of October." He gave her a sly look. "I like to bob for apples with the pretty girls."
"Billy- I'm married" She cackled, waving her cup full of neon blue.
"Still pretty."
"Besides, the school decided that was unsanitary after all the clones, uh, well." She frowned at her cup, then smirked. Her companion eyed her. "They took the 'bob' part literally, BOOM! Right into the tub, water and apple chunks and clone spit all over the floor."
Billy blinked, obviously picturing that in his mind's eye and doubled over laughing. "Aoo', yes, yes, I can see them doing this!"
"Don't choke on your slushy, man!" She gave him a pat on the back as he made a hoarse wheezing noise.

"Ah, ah, it is like Keshmish, it is an excuse to come together and have a good time." He straightened up, shrugging, and she could see the flop of his canine ears hidden under his hair.
"So you only tell certain stories then?"
"Aoo', yes. That is how it is done." He smiled, showing a fang. "Like Coyote stories are only told in the Season when Thunder Sleeps- winter. Long ago, in the boarding schools, the children were there for the summer, so many of the summer stories were not passed down. They get lost, like the ceremonials, the language, unless they are used. People forget."
"That.... seems kinda a shame, but I can understand why it happens. Bet you know the coyote stories?"
"Oh, all of them. And the Coyote Way. They say though, that it is lost now."
They walked a little in silence, shaking condensation from their cups. It was a warm October, not quite Indian Summer perhaps, no real frost yet, but the trees were turning nicely, scarlet and gold and that rich deep green of the dusty evergreens that lined the suburban streets made a strong contrast.

"Okay, what do they call pumpkins?" She nodded her blonde head at a row of them neatly lined up on the front step of a house, orange and warty and waiting to be carved. The hand rail was wrapped in a sparkly black tinsel garland. Several hand-made 'ghosts' out of twine and what looked like old pillowcases dangled in the tree nearby. Linden smiled.
"Pumpkin is... Naayizi. In Spanish Calabaza. We eat them, they are like squash, they have been grown since man came to this world." Billy looked at the gathering on the step and sipped his slushy. There wasn't much left to it, he'd been thirsty and it made a rude noise in the straw. "The ones you carve we say they are Naayizi lich'ii'igii." He repeated it slowly so she could hear each of the gutturals that made up the phrase.
"Naaay izee liccccheee igeee." Linden knew she was saying that completely wrong, but she tried. Navajo hadn't been included in the translation tapes she'd come equipped with.
"And now, you know why they used code talkers in the war, hmm?"
"I admit if I heard that over the radio, I'd be wondering what the hell it was supposed to be, yeah." She nodded, and tucked a wisp of pale hair behind her ear. "So... what are these... taboos you mentioned."
"Uh." Billy Nez stopped on the corner and ran a hand through his hair a little awkwardly. In the afternoon light she could see the blunt claws that tipped his fingers. "There are stories of course, gossip, fantastic tales about Ch'iidii, the ghosts that are left when people die... and..." His voice lowered. Not quite a whisper. "Navajo wolves. You would call them witches. They bring harm to people. Normally you... do not talk of them, because one does not know who might be a wolf. You might be one, or" He quirked his lips, an odd habit as she'd never seen him point a finger at anything. "That woman there, or that man waiting on the bus bench. One does not speak of them to strangers out of fear for getting one's attention. They will make you sick, or kill your horse, or cause your sheep to sicken. You will know it is there because it will climb on the roof of your hooghan. East, then north then west and south and east again. All things begin in the east, and that is where the door should be, so you may greet Dawn Boy with song and a pinch of pollen. But they do it wrong, they do all things wrong, as they must."
"But aren't you...?" Linden let that thought trail off, looking at him.
"By nature yes. I was born that way, because I am Ma'ii, The Coyote, and when I came to live with men, the witch gossip followed. Here it is... easier. There are enough of your meta-humans, aliens and strange beings that," He raised a hand to his face, indicating his canine features, the claws, the ears, the too-sharp teeth. "This is nothing of note. I am Yee Naaldlooshii. For men to become such as I..." He hesitated, glanced around. The sidewalk was empty. A bus had come to pick up the people they noticed earlier.
"You must break the taboos very deliberately. They say usually you must murder a relative. A sibling is best, or your father." The distaste was evident in his hoarse voice.

He fell silent for some time. Linden wasn't sure if he was gathering his thoughts, or if that was all he had to say on the subject, when he spoke again.
"You have a new job. The man Naswood. You would do well to be wary of him. He also is one who Goes About on All Fours."
"Jesus, Billy, how the hell do you know that? I haven't even met the guy!" She laughed, half shocked, half amused. "I haven't met most of the people I'll be working with yet."
"I know this. He is my Uncle." Billy simply nodded again, as if he was quite sure.
"Well... okay then?" She was never entirely confident when Billy was messing with her, and when he was being serious. Though to be fair, that might come out of his being half a coyote. They were supposed to be tricksters, right? As for that Naswood guy being an uncle, Billy had mentioned some complex chain of clans and family ties and stuff in the past, maybe he was his uncle in some distant way. Or, perhaps he had simply gone and looked up other Navajo. There couldn't be that many in Detroit, could there? She shrugged at him.
He stared at her, those glowing amber eyes intense. He didn't normally look at a person when they spoke. He said it was a politeness he'd been taught when young. But he was looking at her now. She... supposed checking into the guy's file wouldn't hurt, right?

And, as if he knew her thoughts Billy smiled, and tore off the domed transparent plastic of his cup, then leaned back to gulp and guzzle the last wet crimson chunks of that fake watermelon drink. They slid into his open fanged mouth. She could see the marks on his face clearly in the sunlight for once, and was again never sure if they were old scars, or some sort of tribal marking, or just odd pigmentation of his skin. A few yellowed leaves fluttered down onto the worn cement.
He waved lid and cup happily, and grinned at her. A small tan dog in a fenced yard growled at the pair, and showed teeth to Billy. He glanced down at it, said something quickly in Navajo she couldn't quite catch, and the dog's growl turned to a whine, then a row of frightened fur lifted on its back and it went yipping across its yard. While she was puzzling that out, he turned to her.
"Your sister is making costumes for the little ones. Coyote, though they look more like gray lions. I am pleased by it and they will be very cute. She has given them most impressive tails." The tan dog watched him from the safety of a bush as they resumed walking. Linden noticed Billy now had a bushy tail curving out of the waistband of his worn jeans, thick fur with a black tip. She reached out to give it a pinch, and he gamely swatted her hand without even really looking.
"Tomorrow, yes? I will get a pumpkin and roast it for you. I will get a Hatch chile and I know where corn is still in season! This I will cook for you, to show how it is done. And while the oven is still warm, we will make Pepitas from the seeds of the calabaza. Tomorrow, aoo'?" Billy had a plan, it sounded tasty.
"Heh. Okay. I have a shift at the animal shelter but after that, should be fine? I'm off at seven thirty." She chuckled.
"Perfect! It will take some time to roast the Naayizi. I will get a big one."

They turned up a familiar street, up one of the driveways, past a trimmed lawn of dying grass and the pair stopped at the side door of a unassuming house. Bright window clings of fall leaves and black cats and fat orange pumpkins dotted the lower white-painted windows. Linden pulled a key-ring out of her coat pocket, and looked at him.
"Tell your boy "Hello" for me, and your parents also, and make kisses at all the babies." Billy smiled toothily, and held up his empty slushy cup. "Thank you for this. I forget how good the junk food tastes." He winked at her.
Linden chuckled and half-turned to put the key in the lock. "Ya'at'eeh Billy. I'll see you later, 'kay?" She heard an answering chuckle, and looked back, just in time to see the soft dusty motes of a rainbow dissipating in the shadow of the garage. The Navajo was gone. The slushy cup was set neatly by the curb where he had been standing. The girl shook her head and bent to pick it up. "That guy, I tell you..."



Teleios Clone Mark II: I wish Teleios would create some perfect women. It’s lonely out here!
Snookums! The Snookii! Homicidal Cheerleader! Klepto Elf! Molly! East Briar Institute
#14237328 Oct 28, 2019 at 10:17 PM
1485 Posts
Perhaps you should change the thread title. How about, "Deathless Doodlings"? 😎
#14238421 Oct 30, 2019 at 04:10 AM
333 Posts
i'd need to add more pictures then :P

Like this?
Or this.
Maybe this one?

Teleios Clone Mark II: I wish Teleios would create some perfect women. It’s lonely out here!
Snookums! The Snookii! Homicidal Cheerleader! Klepto Elf! Molly! East Briar Institute
#14252769 Nov 22, 2019 at 03:21 AM · Edited 3 years ago
333 Posts
Linden has a secret. A big one. Only a select few are privy what happened and why she took a year off school. Or why she suddenly had grown two inches when she came back. Or wears a very pretty ring on her left hand.
But she had to tell someone...


Linden sat on the autumn-dry grass of the graveyard in worn jeans and a battered black Ozzy shirt and scrubbed at the faded stone markers in front of her with a wet sponge. A pile of weeds and dry leaves and other wind blown detritus sat piled behind her, she had spent half the afternoon tidying the two grave sites. It was her biannual sojourn to the cemetery, to clean, and think and to talk, to the two long-dead once-married villains someone had decided should be her parents, long ago.

“...So that's why I took a year off. I tried to run out of my life. Out of town, out of the school, away from everyone I knew, UNTIL, all of it. Make a new start where I was just another face.” She scrubbed hard at a patch of greenish lichen. “Thinkin' about it, I suppose it was pride. I might not be much, but I didn't want to go down as an unwed teenage mother, even if I was one. So I... left.”

The lichen wasn't coming off, she moved to some dried on guano instead; the cemetery had a good sized crow population. She frowned at it and dipped the sponge in the soapy water. “Turns out more people were worried about me then I expected. I figured maybe Virth, but he was still kinda pissed I shot him. Snookums, yeah, Molly. You guys wouldn't know Molly, She's the mastodon at the school, kind of the mascot. She's awesome. She's nicer then most people. She wrote us a note asking if we were angry with her. Kevin took the boys down to meet her today. Heh. Kevin followed me over there. How I dunno. Maybe Michel told him, or Luiz, or Kristin. Those two have their own convoluted romance goin' on. She's the daughter of the emperor, I actually worked under her. He's the grandson of the emperor's enemy of his youth, I guess you'd say.”

“I ran away, Michel magiced me over to his subdomain of Fae with a letter of introduction, and they thought maaaaaaybe I should marry the prince, but neither of us were keen on that, guy has his own harem, right? And when they found out what I do, so they put me in their spy department and I got to fill out their files on earth organizations, political institutions and all of that sorta stuff. And be a secretary on the side.” She considered the spot where the guano had been, then picked up her things and moved around to the back, to scrub the rear of the stone.

“They speak a variant of English over there- or they did around me, to be polite I think, it's a little old fashioned soundin' but that only makes sense. After a week or so of exposure my inbuilt language capture started to translate the local lingo, I think it had a Latin base originally, with French and Polish...? added in as people from here fell through to over there.”

“Anyway Kevin followed me and I was really starting to show, and Kristen's mother, one of their generals, decided it was unseemly that we weren't married- or maybe she wanted to get in good with Kristin, and Luiz- family politics, right? Worked out, she arranged we have a local ceremony. It was this like neo-Viking style, like out of a movie, the clothes alone were fantastic, and the food after was just incredible. I have no idea if the wedding is legal here, but it'll be a year in November. You get married in black over there, is the custom, not white, and that was interesting. They made us matching magitech hero suits as our gifts, Kevin and I. They thought the idea of us being capes 'rather quaint' and that amused me to no end. Turns out it's super useful with my new job- go figure.” Linden considered the stone, then tucked a wisp of pale blonde hair behind her ear.
“Kevin would hitch a ride with Luiz when he came to visit Kristin, so we'd spend the weekends together. It was... nice. Different but nice. I could have made worse boyfriend choices then Kevin, you guys might have liked him.” She unfolded herself and walked the few feet to the next gravestone, and rinsed the sponge to start cleaning that one.

“Actually havin' the kids damn near killed me. Kadin and Kateb, February third. They came early by about a month, though the stuff I read said that first time with twins, that's kinda normal. But it really messed me up. The doctors put the wammy on me and knocked me into a coma for a week, just so I'd regenerate. The babies were fine though. I'm really glad Kevin was there for them, even if we couldn't keep them, you know?” She looked at her boots, frowning.

“The emperor fancied him self something of a scientist, their sort of science, alchemy, magitech, all that. He decided to 'Fix' me, given he had the opportunity to tinker and I was in no shape to argue. He saw my psychopathic traits and decided that wouldn't do, and he... did something while I was unconscious. He took out some of the genetic locks too, the ones that kept me looking sixteen, so I basically hit puberty in three days, grew two inches and aged two years before he put them back on. Damn glad I wasn't awake for that, it just sounds painful.” She stared at the stone, flicked off a beetle and started to wash the rock.

So now I am married, had two kids, Twin boys, can fly, sorta, and have actual functioning emotions. Not like before where I just faked them? No, I actually feel them now. I'm still not sure – months later- if I feel the right emotion for the situation, but I can still fake it with the best of them, it seems to work out. And he did leave me an 'off button' so to speak, so when I'm working I won't have any distractions that way.”

“Oh- just a sec, I brought pictures. I know you can't really see them, but... well.” She dried her fingers, pulled out her smart phone from the inner pocket of her motorcycle jacket and dialed up pictures. Baby pictures. Two identical boys, with green-blue eyes and sandy blond hair, in onesies, cuddled up with stuffed animals, in the bath, held by her, held by a tall lad who could only be Kevin. The babies age as the photos progress, held by the clones, held by a different couple, human woman, red skinned man with slightly exotic features. The boys with a smaller set of pink twins. The boys in a double pram, the boys playing with blocks on a blanket. Linden was silent as she flipped through them, pointing each one at the stones.

“We couldn't keep them. We both knew that. Just out of high school, no jobs, his Mom is up in Alaska, got her own bills to pay, and Virth he adopted all the clones. I... I mean if it had happened a couple years later, we're both older, and settled in, that would have been a different story. Virth and Rachel took them. So they... didn't go far, they're my brothers now, not my sons." She flipped back to the other couple. “I had to stay out of their house for a month and a half, the boys kept subconsciously responding to me, not to Rachel as 'Mom'. That... was a little awkward. I went to space, helped out the Malvans.”

The blonde chuckled softly. “Not a job I expected to do, that's for sure. Got a commendation from the Phazor, their emperor. Then Rachel had her own set of twins. Heh. Those guys... They knew they were going to have some, and adopted my boys anyway. Of course with Virth's species you're knocked up for eleven months. I suppose I had an easier time of it.” She shrugged at the graves, thumbed the phone off and tucked it away.

“And then I got an actual assignment from UNTIL, I got a new job- kind of probationary thing, but it'll pay the bills. Going to start work next week with a local super team. Actual heros, not just capes. We'll see how that goes. It's an excuse to wear my super-suit, if nothing else.”

Satisfied the second stone was as clean as she could get it, Linden squeezed the water out of her sponge and went to tip the dirty suds from her bucket onto the roots of a nearby tree. The girl came back and bent to scoop the debris into it and set the sponge on top.
“That's... kind of where things are at now. It's been an interesting year to say the least. I'm not sure if it's.... been entirely a 'good' year but that's how it went.” Linden looked down at the graves and smiled. “I hope you two are... doing okay. Mom, Dad, I'll see you later, okay?”

Teleios Clone Mark II: I wish Teleios would create some perfect women. It’s lonely out here!
Snookums! The Snookii! Homicidal Cheerleader! Klepto Elf! Molly! East Briar Institute
#14324407 Mar 11, 2020 at 04:27 AM · Edited over 2 years ago
333 Posts
Hello Diary. I haven't used you in a while.
I'm going to call this entry "Jumping the Shark".


Let me preface this with a bit of explanation.
Two weeks ago I got "captured" by some mooks, and they shoved me in the trunk of a stolen car with fifty pounds of smack. Because I had "seen too much" they rolled the car off a pier into Lake Michigan, and figured they'd get someone in a dive suit to get the goods later.
They didn't figure that I was a meta and adapted to the situation, which was dark, cramped and the lake is really really freaking cold in February. Or that modern cars have those little trunk-release levers somewhere inside.
I got out of there fine, and knowing what they were doing half-swam and half-hauled the car up to a boat ramp. Took forever but I knew the police would need it for evidence.
I get it out like twelve hours later, call the police, and they examine it, yes it's stolen, yes there's smack in the trunk, yes I was in the trunk, yes I'm a meta and didn't drown. Yaddayaddayadda. Great, they have evidence I can identify the mooks, that's fine. The shit hits the fan when the car's brake glitches and the stupid thing rolls back down the ramp. I run around behind to catch it before it goes back in the drink.
I'm in four feet of water and out of nowhere I get bitten by a Zambezi shark, on the hip. A CYBORG Zambezi shark no less. The expressions on the policemen's faces was honestly priceless. It's a bull shark in Lake Michigan, the urban legends are true.

Anyway got the car out of the lake -again-, got the shark out of the lake, it chomped me up pretty good, but thankfully I regen. So that started my search for the supervillain putting sharks in the lake, cause cyborg sharks don't happen naturally, and there is like two hundred miles of locks and canals and stuff the shark would have to swim up to get in there to begin with. Why it's an urban legend.

I looked into bull sharks, how they worked, how they survive in fresh water, it is a really fascinating process, they can regulate their body's salinity- its hard on their kidneys and they pee a lot more then they would in the ocean, but they can thrive in freshwater. That's where they get the name "Zambezi", because of a big river they're in, in Africa.
Like you've seen "Jaws" right? who hasn't. It's loosely based on a true story of killer shark attacks in New Jersey in like nineteen sixteen, I think it was. Shark mauls people at a beach, mauls kids playing upstream in a creek, that kind of thing.

I baby sit some of my half-sister's kids, their dad, it turns out got rid of a bunch of sharks the last supervillain put in there, about three years back. I found that out after, so that's kinda neat. I put on a bunch of "Sharkweek" videos while I was there doing research, they ate it up, no pun intended. Hours and hours of shark documentaries and they LOVED it. How three and four year olds can pronounce the Latin species names amazes me. Anyway, I brought them some rubber squeaky sharks, it's their new favorite toy for the bath.

The police let me keep the teeth of the shark that bit me that were, you know, stuck in me, so I used some of the investigative machines a the place I work now, it's cool, I help out one of the local super teams. My first UNTIL assignment. They have like, EVERYTHING in there, just in case, even have a crime lab set up in their offices. I checked the teeth there, then brought the samples over to East Briar, and ran them through the bio lab there. The school's biology head thought my lab prep "rather shoddy"- but helped me with it and confirmed the sharks hadn't been in fresh water that long. Given that Zambezis have a year-long gestation, and mate in late summer or early fall, there isn't likely to be baby sharks swimming around.
Though that is the theory, it's a really big lake. There could be ones that have been in there longer... but no more then three years, right?


That brings us up to now.
I spoke with some of my co-workers, and while they all agreed having sharks in the lake was very very bad, none of them had any practical ideas to get them out of the lake. Had some amusing ones though, but I don't think they'd have worked. Plus, there is no "Aquaman" on our super team. That would have made it easier all around. Anyway, I have a friend on another super team. He works with my adopted father, and the kids I baby sit's dad. Guy had a lot of implanted cybernetics that he needed to stop a super threat, a while before I knew him. He recently had them mostly removed as they were starting to be detrimental to his health. I knew he had a boat, and hadn't used it in a while and asked if I could take it "fishing" for the weekend.
He got all eager and asked me what I was looking to catch, Trout? Bluegill? Perch? The usual stuff you find in Lake Michigan. When I said "sharks" he gave me this amused look and told me he'd be coming along... and didn't I know that was just an urban legend?

It's actually good that old man Shield came along cause it turns out the supervillain dirt bags that designed me left boats off my list of vehicles I can pilot. You'd think if you're preprograming your carefully crafted superhuman killer with all the ways they might need to off someone you'd give them a way to get to their target over water. I guess they didn't think that one through. It's just one more of many many ways I am dis-satisfied with my creators.

We got an early start on Sunday and went hauling the boat across the state, got it to the lake fine, got the boat in the water and puttered out to some warm murky shallows- it seems from the information I'd gathered Zambezis prefer that sort of hunting ground. Probably why I got bit on the boat ramp. I brought a bucket of... scraps and bits and things... from the local butchers and used it as chum, oh that was disgusting. Really really really nasty. It was slimy and smelled just awful.
Old man Shield was up front with a normal fishing line, telling me about the lake and the kinds of fish you could get here and some of his boating stories. You know the ones, the "And the fish was THIIIIIIIS big, honest" kind. It was really interesting though, guy loves fishing and hadn't been out on his boat in a long long time. I guess leading a super team must be really stressful because he just relaxed, like this was the best thing ever. I've never been on a speedboat before, freighters, yachts, that kind of thing yeah. But he had a nice set up, it was comfy and the sun was warm and then... there was a fin.
Shield looked at it, and looked at me, like he was almost surprised I hadn't been messing with him, almost. Without a word he then set his line into a pole rest, pulls a combat knife out of his boot and dives over the side.

Just- SPLOOSH! I had figured if we spotted one to come back with like a shark cage and lure them in that way, like they do on Discovery Channel. I mean, I did bring a Greener harpoon gun for the deck and a little spear gun, just in case- but no, he took it to the next level. Five minutes later the shark bobbed to the surface. He'd gone all Crocodile Dundee and wrestled the shark until he could shank it.

He's floating there beside the boat, treading water. "Reel it in kid," he says to me then. "And tie some floats to it. We'll tow it back to shore." I hear him mutter something like "Sharks with laser beams, how original..." and then there was a splash and a bigger fin, and up from under the dead one comes a ten footer, right at Shield. He scrambles into the boat, really undignified and the shark just misses his foot, takes a chunk out of the dead one instead. Guy turns to me and says "Give me twenty minutes." Then takes a length of chain from a tool box under one of the seats and his knife and dives in again. I'm kind of flabbergasted, I know some of his powers, like he regens and stuff but, just BOOM, out with a knife, over the side, I did not see that coming. I flailed around the boat some, and swore up a storm. When I leaned over the edge- I couldn't see much more then some bubbles and the anchor chain going down into the depths.
So I tie up the shark a little better, and it's oozing goop in a puddle around it. And I wait, and I wait, and I check in with a co-worker who sensibly tells me to call in harbour patrol annnnd then the big shark bobs to the surface. Shield breaks the surface three feet away, grinning at me like this is the most fun he's had in a while, treading water again. "Saw another one below kid, you picked a good spot!" Takes a breath and back down he goes!

I tied up that shark too, with some floats we brought. We probably should have brought more floats, I had to improvise after a while. He was down there long enough I started to get worried so I got my little spear gun and went in too. Luckily for me, I, unlike my half-sisters, am buoyant enough I can still swim, not just sink. The water was absolutely freezing. It had been cold in the car trunk, but out in the open water, oh it was miserable. It might have been tolerable in one of those thermal wetsuits, but I was just in my swimsuit and it sucked. It took me a few minutes to get adapted, and then I followed the chain down and there he was... wrestling another shark, seven foot and a bit, with the chain wrapped around it's head so it couldn't bite at him. This one had a lot of cybernetics built in, and had a blue-green laser- one of those ones that works decently well in water- strapped to it's head, and that was shooting off. Had a sort of strobe effect on the blood and bottom silt they were kicking up. It was really surreal, watching that.

It looked like he had things well enough in hand when another came up from behind, and got me on the shoulder. I'm a bit tougher then I look so while it made a mess of my upper arm and side, I wasn't going to bleed out or anything serious. I got it through one beady black eye with the spear gun and it let go, so that shark and I had a few rounds under the boat.
Everything I read said that Zambezi sharks are solitary until breeding season, which March is obviously not, so this many of them together suggested they followed the chum trail, or ...OR... we were close to the villain's lair. I marked the spot, and am going back overland to see if I can pick anything up around there next weekend.

By the time we finished with those sharks, and got them hooked to more floats on ropes behind the boat we had six bobbing there, in a giant pool of blood and icky bits. Shield's fishing line had amazingly gotten a bite while we'd been down there, and he had a nice looking brown trout. We put that guy on ice for later. They recommend not eating too many Lake Michigan fish because of accumulated chemicals, and not taking any bottom feeders, but one or two now and then won't be enough to hurt even normal people. Being metas Shield and I have it a bit easier, we can tolerate a lot more. He told me he has a recipe he pairs with brown rice that I'll love. He knows I'm a vegetarian, he teases me about it at team barbeques and stuff. I do like wild rice though, he's got me there.

We cleaned ourselves up some, and figured if there was six sharks here, lets expand the blood trail and see if we couldn't get any more. It being March and damn cold out despite the sun, we saw next to no one on the water. Which was good because can you imagine the awkward questions that could have gotten? So we towed the sharks around for a few more hours before we got one. Little one, only about five foot, it was the smallest of the lot. Then five miles off we got another two, about six foot each, and fifteen miles out one last one, an eight footer. It was starting to get dark by then and stacking the sharks was getting a bit clumsy, they're big, and while Shield's boat is of a good size, we had ten sharks floating back there! Also not enough floats so we were hooking the soda bottles from our lunch onto the ropes to try to keep the things buoyant.


And that was about when the Fish and Game boat zoomed up with its spot light all "Stop the vehicle" right, wanting to see our fishing license and boat papers and stuff. It was really good that Shield was on a super team and affiliated with PRIMUS or that could have gotten really really awkward. The officers on board kept staring at the floating sharks. I think they were wondering if maybe this was a film prop.
As it was, once they got over their initial surprise at what we had caught, they thanked us for removing a "dangerous invasive species" from the lake... and asked that we call in to their office first the next time we came down for shark removal. Someone on shore had seen us messing around earlier and called us in thinking we were poachers I guess. Or maybe drug runners picking up dumped packages. Anyway Fish and Game wanted a shark carcass for their studies, because they thought it was an urban legend too. Shield told them where he parked his truck and they said they'd send someone over to collect the thing. The officers said they would keep an eye out for sightings and let us know if any were spotted, as well as look for the possible villain lair on the shore, for anything suspicious. Which is pretty cool of them. I suppose they'd get blamed for "killer shark mauls child on public beach" otherwise. That done we towed our sharks back to shore.

When we arrived sloooowly towing the sharks on their improvised floats the local police and another Fish and Game warden were waiting by the pier. It was the same guys I'd spoken to over the stolen car, which was useful and saved a lot of explaining. They obviously knew each other, standing there having a smoke and chatting. The police brought an enclosed trailer for the shark carcasses to not cause a panic carting them away, even though it was pretty late by that point. It kind of felt like a movie, the not-quite real sense of detachment, everyone hauling the sharks in, tagging them, measuring them, checking out the cybernetic attachments, the laser weaponry and all that stuff lit by the various vehicle headlights. Most of the people were pretty surprised. A couple mentioned there had been some shark sightings like three years ago that another meta took care of. That is when I realized I knew who had cleaned them out- but I didn't want to say anything, and asked Shield in the truck later. That was kind of cool and kind of disappointing at the same time. Three years and another batch of sharks? Talk about your unoriginal villains.

Shield's boat took a LOT of scrubbing, there was blood and gunk all over the place. We hosed it off really well while the carcasses were being loaded up then had it be inspected for that zebra mussel thing, but it was fine. The police said they'd have someone check the cybernetics in the sharks, and dispose of the bodies. I gave them my number in case I could get a set of jaws for my room, a little momento of my shark adventure. They weren't sure. I'll see if they call later. I did get more shark teeth, but they were literally all over the boat.
Then we had the long long drive back across the state. The moon was lovely and there was next to no traffic. Shield figured we'd have to do a few more pass throughs periodically over the next few months. He was going to see if his team AI had an underwater drone that could be set to watch for activity in the shallows, maybe see where the sharks were coming from. I agreed that was a good idea, and knowing the AI, cheeky bastard he is, he'd have a ball with it. Probably attach his own laser gun and go shark hunting in the deep.

He stopped for coffee at an all night joint on the way back to Detroit and somewhere after that I fell asleep on Shield's shoulder, kinda awkward, but he's pretty chill. I cranked the seat down and he let me use his coat for a pillow as he hummed along to some old folk song on the radio, with the volume way down low. The sun is rising now and I'm back at the school dorms. I had a shower and patched the bites up, they don't even need bandaids at this point. I'll have shark hickies for a couple days though. I expect I'll need to write out real reports for my team and Shield's team and everyone else for their records, but later.
Right now, I'm going to bed.

Teleios Clone Mark II: I wish Teleios would create some perfect women. It’s lonely out here!
Snookums! The Snookii! Homicidal Cheerleader! Klepto Elf! Molly! East Briar Institute
#14949126 Apr 05, 2022 at 03:36 AM
333 Posts
Writing prompt: "The Second Day of the Destroyer"
-

-From a manuscript found in a burnt cabin, buried by the fireplace in a metal Folgers coffee can. It's only partially there, many of the pages have been burned away. It looks like the building was sliced in half and later burned down.-

My name is William. I grew up in Detroit. I lived through Destroyer day. Sometimes in my dreams I relive it. I lost my Wife that day, my job, and a lot of friends. They were digging through the rubble for weeks. At first you could hear screams, then moans but after a few days there was nothing. And the smell, they had dogs find the bodies by the smell. It was worst because the blast made parts of the city below the waterline, so you had the river mixing in with the sewage, and the corpses floating up. Parts of the town were intact, somehow, entire blocks just dropped down into the hole, like you could walk in for business the next day. Other parts there was nothing left. Just enough to make you think you recognized something. Where a tree had been, a painted curb, the melted slag of a mailbox- that sort of thing. It was surreal.

I didn't do very well for myself after that. I couldn't hold a job, and they closed all the factories when they started to rebuild anyway. Couldn't have Detroit Iron marring their perfect new city of the Future. The doctors told me it was PTSD and prescribed me some pills, but booze was cheaper and then after a while I couldn't afford even that. I'm not proud of myself- the way I live, what I do. But I get by.

I still live in Detroit. It goes by another name now and it has a wall to keep people like me outside, away from the- what do they call it? Gentrification? But I'm still here.
The thing is I never thought it could happen again. We thought Destroyer was dead. We hoped he was. We were wrong: it did.


This time there was no asteroid, no mind control satellites, nothing like that. No. Things just... ended. I don't know how long it took for him to set it up, maybe they were always there, planted in secret and just waiting for the signal to be sent. Maybe his agents put them there, or he teleported them in from space. I heard he can do that.

He took control of the broadcasting one afternoon, all of the TV satellites, and radio too- just to make some great speech and wank off about himself, how he was superior and we all needed to let him rule us. He gave us a week, he felt generous. Honestly I thought it sounded like the usual villain claptrap they all spout on about. I've thought the younger villains keep swarming to Detroit because Destroyer destroyed it, so they all have to take their shot to prove they're on his level. It's not a popular opinion, I keep it to myself these days.

There was the expected public outcry, which didn't surprise anyone. Lots of grandiose speeches from world leaders and billionaires and movie stars defying him. Lotta superheroes too, even a couple big name villains got interviewed, and they told him where he could go and how to get there. I enjoyed watching those, they were funny. The stock market tanked for a day then started to rise. There were massive public protests, people flooded into the big cities for them. Not just in America, but in Europe and Africa and south America too. All over. I can't help but wonder if he wanted that. Everyone being in confined spaces, together, on live TV.

Because that's when he blew up all the capital cities. All at once. They have footage from the space stations of the explosions going off, it looked like movie special effects, I saw the video a while later. Ripples of them, flash flash flash, across the globe. And the live feed flickered and then went to snow on the screen. Just for a second before the 'technical difficulty' screens were slammed in place by whoever was left.

I heard they were some sort of fancy fusion bombs, kept in safety deposit boxes of banks, all over the place. I don't know if that's true, that's just the most plausible story I heard. Left these big glassy fields where the cities once were. Not even radioactive either, like a nuke would have been. Just big fields of burnt glass, glittering in the sun. I had a look at what was left of Chicago on our way west. Miles and miles of glass, and a slight concave crater. It was more sad then spooky.

People rerouted power and video connections and screamed bloody murder, because really, that's all it was. The heroes that survived the first round swarmed out looking for Destroyer, and so did a lot of the villain groups, like Viper, the assholes in yellow. Destroyer blew up everyone equally- hero, villain, normal people. All the military went on high alert, but really, those guys are useless against low rent villains- what was a tank or a guy with a rifle going to do to Destroyer? Bounce off his armor and annoy him? And most of the heroes didn't survive when the blasts went off. Sure they can throw cars and have eye rays and what have you- but most of 'em couldn't bounce a bullet, let alone gettin vaped. Thats how Billy Two put it, 'getting vaped' I think he saw it in a video game.

In a strange twist he left Detroit alone. Like he had blown it up once already, why bother to do it again. That's my guess anyway, I don't really know. But it stayed in one piece. Just with... half it's infrastructure blown up nearby.

I'm only alive because I had a truck, not a good truck, back in the day you'd have said it was a lemon, and it leaked oil like a sieve. But it was enough to get us out of town and me and some of the fellows I know: Billy Two, Jim, Duke. We all piled in, put our stuff in the back and left. We figured to drive somewhere quiet, camp a few days and wait for everything to blow over. We never believed it would be as bad as it got. Jim had a radio, one of those LL Bean emergency ones you have to crank. Thats how we heard it all go down. Again.

We saw the flash as Chicago went up, way off on the horizon. Everything lit up like flash photography, just for a second, in the daytime and the ground shook, just a little. I guess the old 'Duck and Cover' drills I had to do back in school stayed with me, 'cause I grabbed Billy Two and hit the dirt. I had some friends in Chicago. I never thought I'd lose more like this, not a second time.

Jim's radio picked up some CBC. The canucks always had some strange broadcasts, odd humor, hockey stuff and folksy music but now it was just... lists of places that were glassy craters, and directions for what people "impacted by the disaster" should do. "Impacted". It made it sound so insignificant, like a tornado or a flood. And yet they just kept on listing places that simply weren't there anymore. The anchorman was trying to stay professional but you could hear the disbelief in his voice. And the little shocked pauses that said he had known someone from that city.

A few times we saw fighter jets overhead, then the big robots chasing them, aerial dogfights you wouldn't believe. I envied the skill of those pilots. I wept when I saw them crash down in flames and smoke. A few times we saw supers flying, but they were going south mostly, usually before dark.
We started running low on food and that's when the survivors came. The first few we asked for news and shared what we could- but more came, and more, and we had to move deeper into the country. They stopped asking for supplies by then, and started taking, usually at the end of a gun. We lost the radio that way.

The group after that shot Duke and took our tents. You have to be pretty low to steal from a hobo, but at that point they were no better off then we had been. Wasn't much we could do for Duke. All we had between us was a bottle of aspirin and a fifth of whisky- and Lord, that did nothing for him. He passed on three days later.

We lost Jim with the truck a month later, in Iowa. We'd been going to get some gas; sometimes you could find a pump at the smaller gassos that still had some in it. One of the big robots landed nearby and said something on its loudspeaker. Billy Two hustled me out the passenger side door, and off down a gulley but Jim, he was filling the pump and his hearing was always bad. It was worse now with no batteries for his hearing aid. When he didn't respond the robot used its laser eyes. The whole place went up like the fourth of July, and Jim, he never saw it coming, the poor stubborn bastard. We saw one of the big gas tanks burst out of the parking lot, like a steel rocket ship, all the fumes in the empty tank just lit it up. Always had been warned about the gas fumes, I had no idea that could be the result. I miss Jim. I known him for at least twenty years, always ready with a joke or a kind word, no matter how bad off he was. He was a good sort.

We're holed up in a cabin now, somewhere in Utah I think it is, up in the mountains. It must have been someone's vacation getaway. There was crayon art on the fridge when we busted in. Made me sad to think about the kid that put them there. Had they made it out? I doubted it.
We've fenced everything off that we could, like a palisade in some old western movie, with the spike tipped logs, and dug up the driveway and chunks of road for a few miles around. Anything to make it more inaccessible. There are plenty of trees nearby for firewood, and we mostly figured how to trap animals. Well squirrels mostly. They're all bones and nearly no meat, but it's something.
I found this notebook in one of the cupboards and thought I would write all this down. The first time round the doctors told me writing down my thoughts about this stuff might help. I never noticed it did much other then make me think on everything even more. But this time... it'll help Billy Two when I'm gone, he's a good kid and I'll hate to leave him alone. And maybe when things get better out there maybe it can go in a museum. That would be nice. It would be good for people later to try to understand what happened. At least as far as I can understand it.

Hubris and fear and grandstanding, and people trying to do what they thought was right, and it made everything so much worse. Maybe we did need Destroyer to lead us. Maybe he was right and all the politicians and supers and everyone was wrong. I don't know. He's in control now regardless.
Was that his goal for doing all this? To drop us back into something more... manageable, to make us harder, stronger. I can't imagine there are many villains left at this point. Or supers either. People have to get by on ingenuity and brute strength just like our forefathers must have. I'm guessing now though, I haven't heard any news in months, what's actually going on, what he wants. The best we can do is keep our heads down and carry on as best we can. Hopefully in a few more years it will all work out and we'll have more civilization again, the way we remember it.

Next week I'm going to go down into town and see if there is anything left to scavenge, some canned food perhaps. Billy Two really likes tinned pe--

-It becomes unreadable after this point.-

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