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Post by Firebrand on Nov 10, 2018 16:01:06 GMT
Chapter 19
Alex huffed out a breath as the Granbull barreled into him, slobber trailing from the giant canine’s pronounced lower jaw. Hierro shrieked somewhere off to Alex’s left, and there was a flash as the Bronzong fired off a pulse of silver-gray light. Alex flipped over a trash can and seized the lid as he slid to a landing. The Granbull charged in for a second pass, and after spinning out of the way, Alex slammed the metal cover into the side of the brute’s head. The Granbull gnashed its jaws and turned to snap Alex’s hand off only to be drop-kicked by Hierro.
“Nice one,” Alex gasped as he struggled to get his breath back.
It was collection night in Avenbrooke again, and one of the Baron’s capos had gotten a bit rowdy while exacting his toll from the proprietor of Alex’s favorite bodega. He and Hierro had managed to get the drop on the bastard, but the advantage of surprise had only lasted an instant. His Granbull and Bronzong had fought back hard. After a night filled with keeping the peace in Avenbrooke, Alex and Hierro were starting to flag and were hard-pressed to gain the upper hand.
A whistling of air snapped Alex back to attention as the capo swung a metal rebar. Alex acted on instinct, and his hand shot up to catch the club as it arced towards his temple. He locked his arm and gritted his teeth as he held the metal bar in place. His arm ached under the strain, but a second later, Alex had settled into the right stance and threw his weight behind his counter attack, snatching the rebar out of the mobster’s hands and spinning on his heel, knocking the man’s legs out from under him.
The shadows in the alley warped as the man’s Bronzong prepared another attack, but Hierro jumped into the air and grabbed one of the arms coming from the top of the steel type’s head. He swung the bell-shaped pokemon around just as the Bronzong released its pulse of light, and the attack slammed into the chest of the enforcer’s Granbull. The canine dropped with a groan as Hierro hurled the Bronzong into the ground. Alex used his batons to stun the capo and let out a long sigh. “I think I’m going to be feeling that one in the morning, buddy.”
“Hawlucha Man.”
Alex and Hierro whirled to the mouth of the alley where a hulking man in an expensive suit stood with his arms folded. His muscular pectorals and biceps strained at the buttons and sleeves, and Alex dropped back into a fighting crouch. “Giordano. What do you want?”
The Baron’s number two man waved his right hand in a dismissive gesture. “I’m not here to get in your way. If I was trying to stop you, I would have done it while your back was turned.” He walked into the alley and delicately stepped over a puddle, careful not ruin his imported leather shoes. Giordano reached down and grabbed the unconscious capo by the back of his collar. “Mancini.” He smirked before dropping the man unceremoniously back to the concrete. “This hothead could use a little time in Redstone to help him cool off.”
“What do you want, Bruce?”
Giordano shrugged. “The boss asked me to bring you in for a face-to-face.” He jerked his chin towards the mouth of the alley. “I’ve got a car waiting.”
“How do I know this isn’t a trap?”
“Kid, believe me, if the boss wanted you dead tonight, I’d have put a bullet in you while you were busy with Mancini. The Baron just wants to talk, and he’s insisting.” He unbuttoned his suit jacket and spread his arms. “Look, I’m not even armed.”
“All right,” Alex said. “But Hierro rides with me, not in a pokeball. And I’m not wearing a blindfold.”
Giordano shrugged. “Whatever, kid. Not like we’re doing anything illegal.” He glanced at Hierro’s talons. “Just try not to ruin the seats.”
Alex and Hierro slid into the backseat of the black town car idling in front of the alley while Giordano settled into the driver’s seat, his scarred hands wrapped over the steering wheel. When they took off and Alex was able to reassure himself that Giordano wasn’t going to turn around in his seat and shoot them both, he allowed himself to relax against the cool leather seat. Tucked into a shelf on the door were a few water bottles from an expensive brand, and after checking that they were factory-sealed, Alex popped the caps off two of them and passed one to Hierro.
They slid through the streets of Avenbrooke, and Alex could see the flashing blue and red lights of police sirens as the officers of the Eleventh prowled the streets to ensure the Baron’s collection night proceeded without any unnecessary injury. Giordano’s face was an impassive mask as he drove out from the city center towards the docks and the warehouses the Baron controlled.
When Giordano stopped the car in a brightly-lit parking lot and opened one of the back doors, Alex warily stepped out into the light, his hands on his batons. He engaged the heat sensor on his mask, but as far as he could tell, only the three of them stood in the lot, and no assailants waited outside the glare of the floodlights. Alex let Giordano lead him to the front of a small warehouse and open the door. All the boxes and crates had been pushed to the side, leaving a large open rectangle of floor space with a table in the center. A white table cloth and a small candle gave it a veneer of civilization, and Carlo Pirozzi sat at one of the four table settings.
Giordano cleared his throat and glanced down at Alex’s batons. Alex glowered up at the larger man. “These stay with me. If this is just a little conversation like your boss says, then I’ll keep them holstered. If it’s not, then I’m not taking any chances.” Giordano glanced at his employer, and the Baron gave a tiny nod. Giordano shrugged and motioned for Alex to take a place at the table.
Alex had just started to move when a commotion outside made him whip around. Another car had pulled up, and two of the Baron’s enforcers were manhandling a third man out of the car. The bound man snarled and swore, his unkempt silver-gray hair floating around his face. It took Alex a moment to recognize the Ronin, but as soon as Avenbrooke’s other vigilante had been released, he whirled on his captors. “Give me my fucking sword!” he roared. “I’ll gut every single one of you fucking bastards!”
Giordano leaned down. “I did say the boss was insisting. Aren’t you glad you came along willingly?”
Someone tossed the Ronin’s broadsword at his feet, and the older man wrenched it out of its scabbard. His captors drew their guns, but Alex hurriedly stepped between them. “Easy,” he said, putting his open hand just in front of the Ronin’s chest. “Take a second to breathe. I think they really just want to talk.”
“You’re here too?” the Ronin hissed. “You dumbass, they’re just going to execute the both of us.”
“If they were going to execute us, why did they give you back your sword?”
“For fuck’s sake, kid. I’ve just spent the last four months taking out the Baron’s goons. Why the else would they bring me out to the docks?”
From within the warehouse, Pirozzi heaved a theatric sigh. “All of this talk of executions is going to put me off my dinner. I assure you that if I wanted you dead, I would have done so already and spared myself the trouble of setting this up. Gentlemen, if you’re quite done causing a scene, would you please come take a seat?”
Alex glanced at the Ronin and shrugged before turning towards the warehouse. The swordsman grumbled something under his breath and flicked a pokeball at the ground. His Samurott appeared in a burst of light, and after hesitating for another second, he followed after Hawlucha Man. Alex sat down and rested his elbow on the table, knowing full well it was bad manners, and also knowing that he knew would irritate Pirozzi. The Ronin dropped into the next chair, leaning his sword against the table. Hierro and Muramasa crouched behind their trainers. With a wave of the Baron’s hand, all of his men except Giordano left the warehouse.
“Now then,” the Baron said, pouring himself a glass of dark red wine. “In light of all the confusion lately, I thought it might be a good idea for us all to sit down and have a little chat.” He gestured towards Alex and the Ronin’s empty glasses. “Would you care for a drink?”
“I’ll pass,” Alex replied.
“Got any beer?” the Ronin asked.
Pirozzi sighed. “For Arceus’s sake, it’s not like it's poisoned." When neither Alex or the Ronin had any reaction, the Baron sighed. "Fine, suit yourself.”
Alex pointed at the fourth chair. “We expecting company?”
The Ronin pulled out a flask and poured a generous helping of strong-smelling amber liquor into his glass. “Is there some new hero running around I don’t know about?”
“Not a hero, no,” Pirozzi said. “But he does like to make an entrance.”
A shadow in the corner of the warehouse abruptly receded, revealing an utterly nondescript bespectacled man in a modest but well-tailored suit. “I suppose that’s my cue, yes?” He walked over to the table, a Xatu fluttering along behind him. “James Stocks, gentlemen.” He held out his hand, though no one shook it. His bland face shifted, turning up into a mocking grin. Behind his glasses, his eyes hardened to cold flint. Alex felt a shiver run down his spine, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. “But maybe you know me by another name.”
“Lust,” the Ronin growled.
“Precisely,” Stocks said, affable once again. “Carlo, I would love a spot of that wine.”
The Baron stopped just short of pouring out a measure, and instead passed the bottle to Lust. Alex noted the calculated power play, and Pirozzi’s refusal to let Stocks make a servant out of him at his own table. “So why the fuck are we all here?” the Ronin finally said.
Pirozzi opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Stocks held up a finger. “We are here, gentlemen, because unlikely as it may seem, we are all for the moment on the same side.”
“Care to explain that?” Alex said.
The Baron made a gesture, and Giordano let a man in a white suit jacket into the warehouse. The man pushed a cart with a large covered serving dish. The four men at the table were silent as the waiter uncovered the platter, revealing a large roast served with a variety of greens and potatoes. The waiter carved up the roast, plated it, and served it to the four men around the table before pushing his cart back out the door. As soon as the waiter left, the Ronin lifted his plate and dumped the contents on the floor, where his Samurott pounced on it with vigor. Alex glanced back at Hierro, and the Hawlucha shook his head. Cooked meat didn’t often agree with Hierro’s stomach, so Alex gently pushed his plate away.
Pirozzi sighed as he cut up his slice, taking small elegant bites, while Stocks set upon his food with a relish. Alex allowed them to eat for a moment before clearing his throat. “Mr. Stocks, you haven’t answered my question.”
Stocks sat back, wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin and took a sip of wine. “Right, back to business then.” He folded his hands on the table. “As you all know, the Sins recently had a transfer of power. The new leader at the top of the organization is a powerful esper known as Marinette, though she prefers to be called Dominion. Dominion has the power to infiltrate and influence our thoughts, making the other Sins puppets to her will. For now, Avenbrooke has been spared, but we can’t be sure how long that will last.”
The Baron nodded. “I would like to believe that the prowess of my men and the strength of my organization is what is keeping Dominion at bay, but I’m not arrogant enough to seriously consider it. It is much more likely that she simply sees no value in taking Avenbrooke... not yet, at any rate.”
“You two,” Stocks said, gesturing towards Alex and the Ronin, “have defended Avenbrooke for some time against both the Baron and any incursions the Sins have made. Mr. Pirozzi naturally wishes to preserve his own interests here, and Dominion poses a threat to that should she ever turn her attention on this borough.”
“You mind if I smoke?” the Ronin said.
Pirozzi narrowed his eyes. “Yes, actually I—”
“Well,” the Ronin replied, already lighting a cigarette, “go fuck yourself.” He exhaled a plume of smoke not quite in the Baron’s face. “Anyway. How do we know you aren’t here on your boss’s orders? You just said she made puppets out of all of you.”
Stocks raised an eyebrow. “It is a valid question, and while I have given assurances to Mr. Pirozzi that I am acting of my own free will, neither you or Hawlucha Man would know that. You must understand that for all of Dominion’s great psychic power, there are measures that can be taken to shield your mind from an esper’s influence. My power comes from information, and I could lose my leverage if an esper could glean whatever they wanted from my mind, or bend me to their will. I had undergone a strict regimen of mental training years before Dominion arrived in Clarus City, and I can reliably shield my mind from her. To the best of my knowledge, none of the other Sins have the training I do. I allowed Dominion to think she had won me to her cause so that I could work against her from the inside.”
“Why the hell would you do that?” Alex asked.
“She killed Marcus Braun.”
“So this is just revenge for your old boss?” The Ronin took another pull on his cigarette. “I don’t get it. Sounds like Dominion is a stronger player on the board. Why not back her?”
“Marcus was my partner.”
“Loyalty among crooks, huh?” The Ronin slouched back in his chair. “I always thought you all were his subordinates.”
Stocks raised his right hand and flexed his ring finger. A simple gold band sparkled in the light of the electric candle at the center of the table. “He was my partner.” Stocks’ eyes hardened again, and his mouth contorted into a snarl. “She slaughtered my husband. One way or another, I’m going to bring that bitch down.” He took a deep breath and had a sip of wine, bringing himself back under control. “Very few people know about my connection to Marcus. The other Sins were kept in the dark. If anyone knew, they could have threatened me to get to Marcus, and we would not let that happen. But at this point, there is no need to keep the secret anymore.” He let out a mirthless laugh. “Ironic that the heroes of Avenbrooke are some of the first to know the secret that would have destroyed me just a few months ago. Strange bedfellows, indeed.”
“So where do we stand?” Alex said. “You’ve got your vendetta, the Ronin and I have our duty, and the Baron has his interests, and since all of those are in line, we’re just going to be allies now?”
“I thought it might be prudent to ensure we were all on the same page,” the Baron replied, refilling his wineglass. “When Dominion makes a play for Avenbrooke, my men will work to beat her forces back, as I’m sure you and the Ronin will.”
“And how does Lust play in?”
Stocks smiled. “I’ll feed you or the Baron information about Dominion’s plans when I receive it, and you can pass that along to your own allies to sabotage her efforts. You may have already gathered this, but Dominion is certifiably insane, and her plans are as erratic as her behavior. She is incredibly paranoid, and disseminates information on a strictly need-to-know basis, relying on her psychic powers to quash any questioning of orders or dissent in the ranks. But from what I can gather, her efforts have been focused on pushing dream dust.”
“Any junkie on any corner of the city could tell you that,” the Ronin grumbled.
“But that’s only phase one. Apparently, one of the side effects of dream dust is that it gradually weakens the user’s mental defenses, leaving them open to psychic suggestion. It seems likely that Dominion’s ultimate goal is to create an army of somnambulists. She also has been looking into radio transmission waves, perhaps to boost her own psychic range. She has expressed an interest in brokering a deal with the Kuromori, and I fear it will not be long until they fall under her control and are brought into the fold.”
“I have realized that allowing dream dust to gain a foothold in Avenbrooke was a mistake,” the Baron added. Alex noted that he was careful not cop to his own efforts in pushing the drug. “I have instructed my men to forcibly shut down any chemists producing the substance.”
“What about the people already addicted?” Alex said. Behind him, he heard Hierro shifting, and could sense that his partner had puffed out his feathers. “Or the people you were using dream dust to control? What about Pierre?”
The Baron raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Espalier’s situation is unique and has been seen to personally by me.”
“So you’re still using it to control him?” Alex didn’t bother masking the scorn in his voice. “You filthy hypocrite. You’re no better than her.”
The Baron’s icy calm finally broke, and his knuckles turned white around his steak knife. “I bring you here and serve you food from my own table,” he said slowly. “You scoff at my hospitality and disrespect me at every turn. All of this, I was willing to overlook in consideration of our common goal. But now you insult me to my face, and I won’t stand for it any longer. It’s time Augustus and I taught you a lesson in respect!” He flicked a pokeball out, and his Empoleon appeared in a flash of light. Alex and the Ronin jumped up from the table, sword and batons in hand. Hierro and Muramasa exchanged a glance, and the Samurott whirled on Giordano and his Blastoise while Hierro prepared to spring at the Empoleon.
Alex prepared to jump forward and strike the Baron’s arm with his batons before he could draw that pistol Alex saw hanging from a harness in his jacket. Before he could move, Stocks flicked his fingers, his gold wedding band flashing. “That’s quite enough.” His Xatu’s eyes flashed, and Alex found he was locked in place. The Ronin ground his teeth as he struggled to move his sword, and the Baron hissed out a string of curses. Hierro had already leapt into the air, and crashed to the ground. Stocks glowered at each of them in turn. “I had hoped you three would be able to talk like civilized people when the fate of our city was on the line. I thought we were all in accord that Dominion needed to be stopped.”
“I’m not working with him,” the Ronin snapped.
“Damn right,” Alex said. “We may have a common enemy, but that sure as hell doesn’t make us friends.” He was still locked in place, but could move his eyes toward Stocks. “If you want Dominion brought down, then you’ll give us your information when you have it.”
“My boy, your negotiation skills need work.”
“I don’t negotiate with crooks.”
“I see.” Stocks folded his arms. “Even if you don’t agree, the enemy of my enemy is my ally. When I learn more, I will be in touch. But for now, I believe we are finished here. Moira, if you would?”
The Xatu’s eyes flashed again, and Alex had the sensation of being stretched out and yanked off his feet. An instant later, he dropped into a patch of brambles beneath a highway overpass. Alex would have jumped to his feet, but Hierro appeared in the air just above him with a sharp crack, and knocked Alex flat again.
“That motherfucker,” the Ronin snarled as he struggled to extricate himself from a thorny bush.
Alex helped the swordsman to his feet as Muramasa snapped his fangs and tossed his crested head. The Ronin worked to soothe his partner while Alex picked burrs out of Hierro’s feathers and checked his suit for any damage to the nanofibers. “I guess that wasn’t a total loss,” he said. “Now we’ve got someone on the inside of the Sins’ organization.”
“And he confirmed that Dominion is mad as a hatter,” the Ronin said. “So I’m going to take anything he says with a grain of salt. Stocks may be a smart, but when his boss’s left hand doesn’t know what her right hand is doing, I doubt anyone else will.” He fixed his ponytail and strode past Alex.
“Where are you going?”
“It’s still collection night, kid. I’m going to go show the Baron what I think about his lesson in respect.” The Ronin’s eyes hardened, and Alex had a good idea of what he had in mind. “Don’t get in my way. I’m not in the mood to hear you get high and mighty tonight.” With that, he turned and stalked off.
Hierro cooed and gave Alex an inquisitive look. “I don’t know what the next move is,” Alex said. “This is bigger than me, bigger than Avenbrooke. I think we need to talk to Jiro.”
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girl-like-substance
the seal will bite you if you give him half a chance
Posts: 527
Pronouns: xe/xem
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Post by girl-like-substance on Nov 18, 2018 10:49:43 GMT
A fight with a bronzong is an interesting one for Hawlucha Man! He's very often paired up against vaguely humanoid opponents against whom he can use his kickboxing skills, but something completely inorganic in shape and composition – you can't kick or punch a bell unless you want a loud noise and a sore limb – is a bit different; it's nice to see his opponents mixing things up a bit.
It's also nice to check in with the Baron. He hasn't appeared much for a while, possibly because he's mainly an Avenbrooke guy and Alex has been dwelling on the bigger picture for a while. And you know, I actually was wondering a little about what was going to happen to the smaller players on the Clarus crime scene after the drastic change in management on the top level of the Sins; what we've seen of the Baron in particular so far has definitely shown him to be the kind of guy who'd want to have some sort of plan in place to prevent his operation being absorbed into Dominion's.
Hence this familiar scene, where the heroes and their villains all have to team up to face a greater threat. I'll be honest, I really like things like this, so I may not be judging it entirely objectively, but I will say that the variety of different personalities in play does stop it being too clichéd, imo. Like, Lust and the Baron are more similar than not in the way they act and speak, but the Ronin's abrasiveness definitely adds a fun discordant note to the proceedings.
I think there's a 'to' missing from this sentence.
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Post by Firebrand on Dec 1, 2018 1:31:44 GMT
Chapter 20 The winch hummed as it respooled the thin nanofibers, and Alex’s breath caught as the mechanism turned. Then, with a hiss, the thread spiraled off the guiding coil and knotted itself in a thick snarl. “Damn it,” Alex growled. Torstein, the engineer that shared Alex’s work bench, glanced up from his own project and made a sympathetic noise. Alex noted down his observations on the latest failed test and did his best to untangle the mess of cable. His attempts to create a grappling hook had not been going well, and for every modification and improvement he made for his design, it introduced three new problems. The device had to be as small and light as possible to not disrupt his weight distribution during flight, but he had been running up against hard physical barriers when making the mechanism that respooled the cord. Too small, and the cable got tangled, but too large and he wouldn’t be able to carry it with him. Jiro had told the other engineers that Alex was designing the hook for mountain rescue teams and first responders to collapsed buildings, but everyone else in the lab was too intent on their own projects to pay Alex much mind. “Torstein, why don’t you take five?” Torstein looked up from his work, shrugged, picked up his mug and walked over to the lab’s coffee machine. Jiro Sasaki sat down across from Alex and glanced down at the grappling hook prototype. “No luck?” “Nope.” Alex couldn’t hide the bitterness in his voice. “Seems like everything I’m trying just makes it more complicated.” He gestured at the tangled mess of cable. “That’s how my brain feels right now.” “Alex, how are you feeling?” “I… frustrated, I guess?” “How much are you sleeping?” “I don’t know. Not much last night, but I was chasing down this guy who—” Jiro reached across the table and put a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “You’re not taking care of yourself. Protecting the city is important, but you can’t do that if you keep burning the candle at both ends like this.” Alex looked down. “Sorry.” “You don’t have to apologize to me.” Jiro smiled. “Take a break tonight. Tomorrow is Saturday, so sleep in too. I’ll give Isabelle a call, and she can patrol Avenbrooke tonight. Okay?” “But—” “I know crime doesn’t sleep. If there’s an emergency, then by all means suit up. But you’ve got to rest a bit. Order some takeout, have a beer, watch a movie, and take it easy, all right? I’m sure Hierro will appreciate a little rest too.” Alex nodded. “All right. For Hierro’s sake.” ***
Several hours later, Alex sprawled out on the sagging couch in his apartment, a steaming mug of tea perched on the coffee table next to his laptop. He was scrolling through a list of movies to stream, but couldn’t settle on any to watch. The Unovan action flicks and Johtonian kung-fu movies he used to be into had lost their appeal when he started living them on a nightly basis, and he had never been able to sit through a plot-heavy indie film under normal circumstances, let alone when he was antsy about taking the night off. He was starting to wonder if he should have taken Jiro’s advice and had an actual drink, but ever since becoming Hawlucha Man, he hadn’t had much interest in alcohol. Still, the corner bodega would be open for another hour or so, and while he debated whether or not to put on his shoes and walk over, he heard a rapping at his window. Hierro sprang off the back of the sofa, his feathers rising, while Alex grabbed his batons off the counter. The rapping came again, more insistent, and Alex unlocked and slowly eased up the window. As soon as it had raised an inch, a shadowy figure dropped down off the fire escape and shoved it up enough to tumble through the gap. “Thank Arceus you’re here,” the figure said, dusting herself off. “Because I am fucking boned, birdbrain.” “Shadow? What the hell are you doing?” Alex gestured for Hierro to get in position. “How do you know where I live?” The freelance thief beckoned her Purrloin and Haunter in through the window before slamming it shut and ducking into his kitchenette, out of sight from outside the apartment. “I tailed you once, obviously. I was really hoping to catch you before you went all heroic tonight, because I need a favor.” “You need a favor.” “Is there an echo in here? Yes, I need your help.” Alex figured she wasn’t going to jump him, but he still stepped back as far as his small apartment would allow. “What’s the favor?” “So Envy’s been after this Sinnohese diamond for a while, and he contracted me to get it for him. But see, the thing is, I kind of don’t want him to have it. It’s rumored to have some properties that I’d rather not have fall into his new boss’s hands. I contacted the Baron to see if he wanted to take it off my hands, but he’s not interested either. So now Envy knows I’ve got the diamond, and I’ve spent the past three days going from safe house to safe house, but Envy’s goons have been closing in. I have one last bolthole in Greenpoint where I can stash the rock, but I don’t think I’ll be able to get that far on my own. The Sins are on the lookout for me, and there’s a lot of ground to cover between my last safe house and there. You were on the way, so I figured it was worth a shot seeing if you wanted to tag along?” “You want me to protect you from the Sins?” “To make sure Dominion doesn’t get her hands on this diamond.” She opened a pouch on her belt and showed Alex a glimpse of a fist sized, multi-faceted gem that was probably worth more than Alex would make in a lifetime. “It could be the rumors are true and this can amplify an esper’s powers, or the Sins could sell it to buy a metric fuckton of weapons. Either way, it doesn’t look good for Clarus City. That’s the kind of thing you goody-goody types care about, right?” “I… well…” “Listen, I know we’re technically not on the same side here. But I’m trying to do the right thing by this city tonight, and if I don’t get this diamond to St. Wulfric’s church in Greenpoint, it’s going to be bad for a lot of people. I’m at the end of my rope here, and I’ve got no one else to turn to. Are you going to help me, Hawlucha Man?” “This is just a lot to take in.” The Shadow groaned. “I need an answer now. Envy’s people are closing in as we speak.” “You led them to my house?” “I didn’t have a fucking choice!” “Fine. Let me suit up. We’ll be out of here in five.” Three and a half minutes later, Alex and Hierro were racing up their building’s fire escape behind the Shadow and her pokemon. “St. Wulfric’s is in the northeast part of Greenpoint,” the Shadow said. “Just follow me, but if Envy’s guys get the jump on us, I’ll let you take the lead.” “Got it.” “And birdbrain? I know I brought you along to watch my ass, but you could be a little more subtle about it.” Alex felt himself go red under his mask. “I’m not… I don’t mean to… you’re just…” The Shadow laughed and jumped up onto the roof. Alex and Hierro were a step behind her, and together they approached the edge. “So how are we doing this?” Alex asked. “Hierro and I can fly from building to building, but you might not be able to keep up.” “No need to worry about me, Hawlucha Man.” The Shadow unclipped a metal rod from her back and twisted it from side to side. The rod expanded into a long quarterstaff, and the Shadow backed up several paces to get a running start. “I’m as used to operating on the rooftops as you are.” Her Purrloin jumped up onto her shoulder, and the Shadow raced past Alex, using her staff to propel herself further. Alex and Hierro were just behind her, and Alex glanced over at his partner. “So much for a night off, huh?” Hierro chirped and angled for a better landing. When his talons touched down on the next rooftop, he glanced at Alex and shrugged. “Yeah, we probably never would have decided on a movie anyway.” They ran into the first of Envy’s men only a few blocks later. “Shadow!” a rail-thin woman shouted as she sprang across an alley. “The boss is going to have your head!” A knife glinted in her hand, and Alex raced forward to intercept. He activated the electric charge on his batons as the rod caught the blade of the knife, sending the charge down through the metal and making the woman drop the weapon. “You?” she managed to gasp as Alex drove his second baton up under her ribs. “But she…” “Roped me in, yeah,” Alex grunted as the woman dropped. “Ten o’clock!” the Shadow called, and Alex whirled as an Ariados sprang on him. Hierro intercepted the arachnid, hurling it off the roof before pivoting and springing towards two Bisharp that a second assailant had summoned. The Shadow spun her staff around and settled into a fighting stance. Alex noted that she looked far more confident in her hand-to-hand combat than in their first encounter, but a few months of hard training was no match for the years of experience he and Hierro had. “Alecto! Apate! Go!” Her Haunter shot into the air and unleashed a pulse of spectral indigo light, dropping a flock of Golbat Alex hadn’t even seen coming. The thief’s Purrloin darted through the legs of the trainer commanding the Bisharp and gouged at the man’s eyes with wickedly sharp claws. “Back, Apate!” the Shadow called as she rushed in, swinging her staff in an arc. She swept the man’s legs out from under him. As the man dropped, she brought the staff around and shoved the tip into his chest, driving the air from his lungs. Then, she drew a knife from a sheath strapped to her leg and prepared to drive the blade into the fallen man’s throat. “Stop!” Alex shouted. “So long as I’m here, no killing!” “Are you serious, birdbrain?” “If you do, you’re on your own!” The Shadow scowled, but settled for knocking the man out with her staff and sheathing her knife. “I should have left you at home.” A Sableye burst from the darkness, and Alex whirled to knock it flat with his batons. The dark type shrieked as electricity coursed through its body, and Alex turned back to the Shadow and raised an eyebrow. “Good save,” the thief groaned. “We should keep moving, these two aren’t acting alone!” Her Purrloin jumped back onto her shoulder, and they were off again. Envy’s coterie of thieves and enforcers were never far behind. A trainer with a swarm of Beedril ambushed them at Sixth and Laurel, and once they had beaten them off, they were set upon by a skilled knife fighter with a pair of Drapion. Alex and the Shadow had been forced to cut and run from that, only to be waylaid by an enforcer with three Galvantula and Mandibuzz just two blocks later, just at the Avenbrooke and Greenpoint line. Hierro had managed to deal with the electric types while Apate and Alecto subdued the trainer. Alex and the Shadow had kept a Mandibuzz at bay. When the vulture had finally dropped to the roof in a heap of feathers, the Shadow turned to Alex. “Once we’re out of Avenbrooke, this is going to get even harder. Envy has probably called in as many of his cutters as he can to wait just outside the Baron’s territory to hunt us down.” Alex shrugged and holstered his batons. “That’s fine with me. Hierro and I are warmed up now. Think we could lure out Envy himself? I’ve always kind of wanted to take a crack at him.” The Shadow laughed. “Well, aren’t you feeling ballsy.” She winked. “Are you just talking tough to impress me?” “Why would I want to impress you?” “Because guys like impressing beautiful women.” “You see any beautiful women around here?” “Ouch. That’s cold, birdbrain.” Hierro rolled his eyes and made an insistent shriek. Alex nodded. “Right, we’ve got to get a move on. Where do we go from here?” The Shadow sighed and pointed towards a glowing cluster of buildings. “Just keep heading that way. The Greenpoint Galleria is pretty hectic around this time of night, so I figure we might lose a tail in the confusion.” “Or at least hold them up long enough to buy us some breathing room.” “Exactly.” They took off again, but it wasn’t long before the Sins’ men caught up to them. They were darting over the long, flat roof of a self-storage building when someone seized the Shadow from behind. “Where are you going in such a rush?” the man hissed as he placed a gun against the thief’s temple. Alex drew his batons, but the man clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Let’s not be hasty. If you so much as twitch, I’ll blow the little lady’s brains out. Now then,” he said glancing down at the struggling Shadow, “I think you have something the boss wants. If you hand it over, I’ll let you and your friend here walk away.” “Go to hell,” the Shadow growled. The man smirked. “I’ll see you when I get there.” Just as he was about to pull the trigger, the Shadow reached back and squeezed the man’s groin hard enough to make him yelp in pain and surprise. His arms flailed back, and the shot echoed off into the night. Alex was on the man in an instant, clubbing him across the face and knocking the gun from his grasp. The man spat blood and ground his teeth together. “So you want to do this the hard way? Fine! Get ‘em!” Two more figures jumped up onto the rooftops from an access stairway and were briefly illuminated by the flashes of pokeballs. A Weezing, Ariados and Turtonator appeared, and Alex fell in beside Hierro as he braced for a fight. A man with tattooed arms covered in Alolan spiral designs whistled through his teeth, and the Turtonator’s shell began to glow red. Fire erupted from its snout, and the Shadow darted out of the way. The Ariados pounced, giving the fallen man time to retreat to his comrades. Hierro and Alecto worked together to knock the arachnid off the rooftop, and the Haunter fired off a barrage of spectral orbs at the enemy trainers. In response, the Weezing exhaled a cloud of noxious gas that the fire type quickly ignited, making the rooftop erupt in a nimbus of flame. Alex and the Shadow hit the roof as the fire roared over their heads, extinguishing just as quickly. “You see that big guy, the Alolan?” the Shadow hissed. “Hard to miss.” “He’s not one of Envy’s.” The thief cringed. “He’s one of Wrath’s guys, a lieutenant. Looks like Envy called in some reinforcements.” Alex scowled. That certainly complicated things. Envy maintained a network of thieves not unlike the Kuromori across the river, a crew of subtle operators who prided themselves on their ability to infiltrate targets, take what they needed, and get out undetected. The Shadow’s plan had been solid, to deprive their pursuers of their cover and discretion by losing themselves in a brightly lit, densely populated area like the Galleria. But if Wrath’s anarchists were in the equation now, that plan wasn’t going to work. While Envy was a subtle operator, Wrath probably couldn’t even spell subtle. If the Sins wanted the diamond badly enough to deploy Wrath’s mad bombers, they wouldn’t hesitate to cause carnage at the Galleria to get it. The kind of collateral damage that would cause was unthinkable. “We need a new plan.” Alex said. The Shadow nodded. “No shit. I know another way into St. Wulf’s, kind of a backdoor. But it means we’re going to have to loop out and around.” “We’ll have to risk it.” “All right. But first we need to get rid of these guys.” “Leave that to me.” Alex caught Hierro’s eye and raced forward. His partner picked up on the signal and matched his pace. “Focus on the Weezing and keep the bad guys off me as best you can,” Alex said. “When I give the signal, send it my way.” Hierro chirped the affirmative and jumped at the hovering poison type, battering its two heads with a flurry of slashes and kicks. The Weezing moaned and attempted to shoot the Hawlucha out of the sky with a noxious projectile, but Hierro proved too quick. He looped in the air, and the sludge struck one of Envy’s men, knocking the man flat and reducing him to a coughing fit. Alex sprinted towards the Turtonator and ducked under a stream of fire. “Come on, big guy,” he muttered. “Show me what you’re made of.” The hulking fire type moved far too slowly to keep up with Alex, and he kept an eye on its shell. When the carapace was glowing white-hot, Alex whistled. “Now, Hierro!” The Hawlucha jumped up and delivered a two-foot kick to the Weezing’s larger head, knocking the poison type off its axis. Then Hierro seized it by its smaller head and hurled it through the air at Alex and the Turtonator. The Turtonator bellowed as Alex jabbed his stun baton into his chest and sprinted for the edge of the rooftop. The Sins’ men seemed to realize what was going on and ducked for cover. Alex heard the Shadow’s footfalls and Hierro’s claws skittering across the gravel behind him. They had just cleared the gap when a resounding boom nearly knocked Alex off balance, and a fireball appeared just above the rooftop they had vacated. Alex spared a glance over his shoulder to see the Turtonator waver on its feet before collapsing, all of its energy spent. Wrath’s lieutenant and Envy’s two goons were scrambling back up to the roof, their faces blackened with dust from the explosion. The Shadow crowed with laughter. “You’re one crazy son of a bitch, birdbrain!” Alex shrugged. “What’s the new plan?” “Tell you on the way.” They ran off towards the west, away from the Galleria. “You know how Clarus City used to have tons of smugglers back in the old days to get around the Unova embargo? They built all these tunnels between buildings to move the contraband around, and some of them are still there. I know this one in a warehouse that will take us pretty close to St. Wulf’s. I can’t be sure that the Sins don’t know about it too, but it’s a risk we’ll have to take at this point.” “Underground?” Alex and Hierro shared a glance. “Well, if we’ve got no other choice.” Envy and Wrath’s grunts appeared every few blocks, and Alex and Hierro had to be careful to limit the damage of the fire types the anarchists summoned to apprehend them. “Stop playing by the rules!” the Shadow snapped as she hurled a Darumaka into its trainer, and both went down. “This isn’t even your home turf anymore!” “The whole city is my home turf!” The Magmar Alex was fighting inhaled sharply, only for Hierro to drop out of the sky and distract it from producing another gout of flame. “I can’t just let them burn up half of Greenpoint. These old wood tenements will go up like kindling!” The Shadow whipped her quarterstaff around, knocking a Hitmochan off its feet as her Purrloin pounced. “You’re such a goody-goody.” “I’m one of the good guys,” Alex muttered. “It’s literally the job description.” They managed to get clear again, and soon found themselves standing at the head of High Street, the main artery of Greenpoint’s commercial district. Late-night boutiques and fashionable bistros lined the wide thoroughfare, and the buildings were irregularly sized and clustered close together. Alex knew they weren’t going to be able to keep to the rooftops, and they would be forced into the open. The Shadow sensed his apprehension and sighed. “We’ve got no choice. Once we get through here, it’s just another three blocks to my bolt hole, and then we should be in the clear.” She rolled her shoulders back. “Let’s get this over with quick.” Alex and Hierro shot out over the street while the Shadow scurried down a drainpipe. Some of the civilians looked up as Hawlucha Man passed overhead, and Alex could feel their apprehension. They had no doubt seen the explosions from his fights with Wrath’s goons as he fought his way across the borough, and he hated being exposed where this many innocent people could get caught up in the fighting. When he had lost his altitude, he alighted on the street and tried to give a disarming smile as a crowd clustered around him, the air humming with concern. “No need to worry, citizens! Just a routine patrol.” “There you are, you bastard!” Alex looked up and saw three of Envy’s capos sprinting down the street. “Well, crap.” The Shadow blew past him, her staff whipping through the air. She batted aside a shrieking Crobat and sent it flying into another goon’s Mawile as Alecto grappled with a Banette. Alex whistled to Hierro and then raised his voice to the civilians. “Please remain calm and move out of the street! My associates and I will handle this and you can go back to your evenings.” A noxious ooze seethed up from a nearby storm drain, and Alex barely had time to recoil as a Muk burst from the sewers. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” Hierro bounded to the Shadow’s side and took over the fight with the Mawile. The fairy type’s tensile horns snapped and gnashed at the flying type, but Hierro was far faster, able to jump and dodge every move. One of the capos called out a Roserade, and Hierro turned to deal with the new threat. Meanwhile, Alex was trying not to get pinned by the Muk’s sludgy arms while keeping it away from the fleeing civilians. He saw two young men go for pokeballs on their belts, but Alex waved them away. “Let me handle this! You two get everyone clear!” One of the men looked like he was about to argue, but his buddy grabbed his arm and pulled him along. One of Envy’s men whistled to the Muk, and the hulking poison type started to turn its ponderous bulk towards the fight with the Shadow and Hierro. “Oh no you don’t,” Alex growled and seized one of the wrought-iron chairs from the patio of a nearby bistro. He hurled the chair at the Muk’s head, where it sank into the sludge. The Muk bellowed in indignation and wrenched the chair from its head before turning back to Alex. He turned to the open door of the restaurant and saw the stunned customers huddled inside. “Give me something to throw!” he shouted. His fists and batons would be useless against the Muk, but the chair had done something, so it was worth another shot. One of the waiters rolled a small fire extinguisher out the door, and Alex grinned. “Yeah, that’ll work.” As the Muk drew itself up, Alex sprayed it with a burst of white foam. The Muk recoiled from the substance, and Alex fired several more times, driving it back towards the storm drain it had bubbled up from. With each blast from the extinguisher, the poison type’s body became reduced in size as the absorbent foam ate away at it. Before it slipped back through the cracks, its trainer returned it to its pokeball, and Alex turned his attention to the other fight. But Hierro and the Shadow had held their own, and had Envy’s capos on the run. Hierro hurled the Mawile back at its trainer, and sent both of them to the ground. Alecto and Apate ran circles around the Banette before Apate sucker punched it into the recovering Crobat. The Shadow ducked past the Roserade’s thorny whips and used the butt of her staff to knock the grass type sprawling. When Alex joined the fight, he used his stun batons to quickly drop two of the capos, and the third cut his losses and ran off. The Shadow hissed through her teeth and grabbed her left arm. “What’s wrong?” Alex asked. “The damn Roserade got me,” the Shadow said, and moved her hand just enough for Alex to see the tear in the fabric of her sleeve. The wound below was a long, shallow cut, but the skin around it was already starting to go a mottled yellow and purple as the toxins from the Roserade’s claws seeped into the Shadow’s bloodstream. When she saw the concern on Alex’s face, the Shadow waved him away. “It’s going to slow me down, but I can keep going. I’ll get it taken care of at St. Wulf’s.” They took off into the night again, and it wasn’t long before the Shadow dragged Alex into the doorframe of an abandoned three-story building. Her hands shook as she pulled out her lock picks and tinkered with the deadbolt. After watching her struggle for a moment, Alex glanced up and down the quiet street. “No one lives here, right?” “No, it’s been abandoned for at least a decade. Even the squatters don’t come around here anymore.” “Then stand back.” Alex threw out a kick just to the side of the lock, and the door fell back on its hinges with a bang. The Shadow managed a coy smile. “You sure that’s in the hero rulebook, birdbrain?” “Let’s just keep moving.” The Shadow led him into the basement of the sagging building, and Alex wrinkled his nose at the smell of rot and mildew. The Shadow felt around on the floor before flinging back a trapdoor. Hierro shuddered as he looked down into the yawning black tunnel, but Alex rubbed a hand through his feathers. “It’s just for a little while, buddy.” Alex, the Shadow, and their pokemon descended into the depths. Apate and Alecto took off ahead and vanished into the darkness. The Shadow fumbled at her equipment belt before pulling out an industrial glow stick. She cracked it, and soon the corridor was filled with sickly greenish phosphorescent light. They trudged along through the tunnel, and after a little while, the Shadow sagged against the wall. “Just give me a sec,” she said through clenched teeth. She gathered herself up and continued to limp along. Hierro made a concerned chirp and glanced at Alex. Alex nodded and stooped to get under the Shadow’s dangling left arm before standing up to bear her weight. “What the hell are you doing, birdbrain?” Alex knew she probably meant to sound indignant, but she just sounded tired. “I promised you I’d get you to St. Wulfric’s, and a hero doesn’t break his promises.” “You sound like a moron.” “You might be surprised to know that I actually am a moron.” The Shadow’s face brightened up, and she let loose a peal of laughter. “Yeah, birdbrain, I noticed.” Eventually, they reached the end of the tunnel. Alecto and Apate waited at the base of an old wooden ladder, and Alex left the Shadow with her pokemon as he climbed up and raised the trapdoor on this end and inch to survey the surroundings. They were in the basement of another seemingly abandoned building, and once he had ascertained that no one was lying in wait for them, he helped the rest of them up. When they emerged back out on the street, the Shadow nodded towards a church steeple rising above the rooftops. “It’s just over there.” “Okay. Stay with me now.” Hierro and Alecto led the way, while Apate crouched by her trainer’s heels. At this time of night, just a few of the tenement buildings had lights in the windows, and most of the streetlights had turned off. When they finally emerged in the small square in front of St. Wulfric’s, Alex let out a sigh of relief. As he and the Shadow made their way up the stairs to the carved wooden doors of the Arcean church, he heard the heavy tramp of steel-toed boots on the cobblestones behind him. “Found you,” a woman rasped as she ducked out of the shadows across the square. An Arbok slithered after her, and she drew a long, curved knife from her belt. “Get them!” Three more men appeared, accompanied by their pokemon. Alex slid the Shadow off his shoulders, and she slumped against the door. “Damn it,” she whispered. “So fucking close.” “This isn’t over yet,” Alex growled. “We can’t win this, birdbrain.” “But we’re sure as hell not giving up. Hierro! Let’s go!” He and his partner raced down the steps and jumped in tandem to deliver a double kick to a pouncing Liepard. The feline recoiled with a snarl, and Alex and Hierro stood back to back as their foes advanced. Alex knew the odds were long, but he had come this far. Part of being a hero was never giving up, no matter how dark things seemed. The Hammer made no secret that he would always bet on the heroes of Clarus City, and Alex was going to take those odds, even if they seemed long. As their foes closed in, Alex felt Hierro take a deep breath and puff out his feathers. “So much for a night off,” Alex said. When Hierro shrugged, Alex couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, sitting at home isn’t really our style.” The Arbok lunged, but before Alex even had the chance to counterattack, the snake was blown away by a concussive blast of sound. “Bang! Bang!” someone screamed, and two more of Alex’s assailants were lifted off their feet and flung backwards. “Bangbangbangbangbang BANG!” With each vocalization, more of Envy’s goons were hurled back against the surrounding masonry, clearing the square. A dark shape dropped out of the sky and shrieked, making the stained glass windows of the church rattle in their frames. A figure jumped off the Noivern’s back and swung a red guitar around on her shoulder. A Loudred and an Exploud jumped down from two nearby buildings, and Alex felt his knees go weak with relief. “Echo! Am I glad to see you!” “Hawlucha M-Man? Wh-What are you doing in G-Greenpoint?” “It’s a long story.” The woman with the Arbok managed to get to her feet and shouted to rally her stunned allies. Alex switched his grip on his batons and settled into a fighting crouch. “For now, want to help me deal with these guys?” Echo face twisted into a fierce, predatory smile. “Let’s wr-reck their shit.” |
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girl-like-substance
the seal will bite you if you give him half a chance
Posts: 527
Pronouns: xe/xem
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Post by girl-like-substance on Dec 2, 2018 17:32:21 GMT
Of course Alex doesn't get more than fifteen minutes into his night off before crime (quite literally, in this case) comes knocking. And I'm always pleased to see the Shadow again; I think she's a really fun character, partly because of how confrontational she is for someone who's usually kind of on the same side as Alex and partly because she seems to be congenitally incapable of turning down an opportunity to embarrass him. Given that most people are really impressed by him, it's a nice change of pace to have someone who's like, absolutely resolute in her determination to treat him like the kid he is behind his mask. It's also cool that Alex is finally faced with an opponent against which kickboxing is pretty much useless; there are a lot of pokémon that you can't really beat up with your fists or with stun batons, and it's good to see Alex having to figure out a way of dealing with something like that, as with the muk. I liked the creative choreography, too, like throwing the weezing into the turtonator just when it's ready for that exploding shell thing that they do; there's a lot of jumping around and over people in this story, and a fair bit of finding incongruous things to hit bad guys with too, and this fight sequence stood out as being centred on a couple of manoeuvres that definitely weren't either of those things, which is excellent. |
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Post by Firebrand on Dec 15, 2018 4:11:03 GMT
Chapter 21
Envy’s grunts didn’t know what hit them.
Mezzo and Forte hit the cutters with a sonic barrage as Crescita spat pulses of indigo light at any of their foes who managed to stay on their feet. Once Alex and Hierro had managed to catch their breath, they jumped back into the fray. Echo played a loud chord on her guitar and barked an order to Forte. The Exploud bellowed and slammed his right fist into his left palm. Electricity crackled as Forte’s fist was surrounded by a brilliant corona of light.
Hierro darted forward, striking his talons together. Sparks of flame appeared around his claws, and he lashed out with his blazing fists. Forte grinned as Hierro fell in next to him, their fists incandescent with elemental power. The shadows on the church walls danced and writhed as the Hawlucha and Exploud lashed out again and again, driving their foes back. A Pangoro lunged at Hierro, only to receive a tandem attack from both Hierro and Forte, sending it flying into a Drapion and Arbok.
Alex sprinted by and dropped one of Envy’s thieves with a flying kick to the solar plexus. “When did you learn that?” he asked Hierro. “Did Masakado teach you?” When Hierro nodded, Alex grinned. “That’s so cool!” Hierro puffed his feathers up and struck his talons again, making the fires around his claws flare up.
Alecto screamed past them, her spectral purple claws glowing with unholy light. The percussive booms of Forte and Mezzo’s attacks served as a backdrop to Echo’s guitar, and soon her voice rose to join the cries of her pokemon.
“In the night we can’t rest
In the dark we are blessed
And in moonlight we fight all the harder!
We are the brave at heart
In blood and fire we part
And forever we pray for we are…
Blessed and possessed!”
She segued into a chanting refrain, and Crescita dropped out of the night sky with an echoing blast that scattered their foes like leaves in a gale. The woman with the Arbok struggled to her feet and shouted to her comrades. “Pull back! Retreat!”
Alex and Echo let them run, and Alex sank into a crouch to catch his breath. Hierro made the flames around his claws dissipate with a few flicks of his wrists and leaned against his partner. Alex could hear the flying type’s heartbeat thumping in his chest. He glanced over his shoulder at Echo. “Thanks for the save. I owe you one.”
“I think y-you owe me an exp-planation of what the hell’s g-going on here,” she replied.
Alex nodded and got to his feet. He climbed the stairs to the church and helped the Shadow up before pushing open the door with his shoulder. “Follow me, I’ll explain everything in here.”
As they walked up the aisle of the church between the wooden rows of pews, a middle-aged man burst out of the sacristy in his nightclothes. “I heard a commotion outside! What’s going on?”
Alex tried to prop the Shadow up as she started to slump forward. “Please, she’s been poisoned. She said she would be safe here, but I think we just led the Sins right to your front door.”
“The Sins?” the man whispered, before recovering his composure. “Well, yes, the church offers sanctuary for all who need it, and your friend is no dif—”
“Shepherd Matt,” the Shadow groaned. “I really messed up this time.”
The man, the Shepherd, evidently, squinted against the gloom and peered down at the Shadow’s face. “By Arceus. Oh, you dear, foolish child.” He turned to Alex. “Come, bring her here. I’ll do what I can to have her patched up.”
Alex followed the Shepherd into the sacristy, and the priest went into another room and returned with a small cot. Alex helped the Shadow lie down as the Shepherd fetched a first aid kit. “What was it that got her this time?”
“A Roserade, sir. Your holiness? Pastor?”
“Shepherd Matthew will do,” the priest said as he prepared a syringe. He looked at the Shadow’s arm, where the skin had gone a mottled yellow and purple. He tutted and swabbed her arm with a bit of numbing alcohol before administering the shot. “This should combat the venom in her system, though she will need plenty of rest to fully recover.”
“Thank you,” Alex said. “I’m sorry to have brought all this down on you.”
Shepherd Matthew sighed. “Arceus teaches us to look after everyone we can, regardless of whether they are saint or sinner. And your friend here, well…” The Shepherd reached down and touched her forehead, wiping away the beads of sweat that had gathered there. “When she was a child, she was raised at the orphanage attached to my parish. Even though she is old enough now to make her own mistakes, I still feel responsible for her. Are you a religious man, mister… ah, I don’t think I caught your name.”
“Hawlucha Man.” At the Shepherd’s raised eyebrow, Alex shrugged.
“Well, if you insist. I don't believe you've answered my question?”
“I'm not an Arcean, if that’s what you mean. I guess you’d consider me a Unovan pagan, since I light candles for the Twin Dragons on the solstices, but I’m hardly observant. And well, I’m a scientist. I have to see the world as it is, without getting caught up in the metaphysical.”
“I’ll put in a good word for you with the Lord all the same.”
“Thanks. I think.” Alex excused himself from the sacristy and went to join Echo in the main hall. The other hero stood in front of the altar, looking at a large stained glass window. “Sorry for that. You deserve some answers.”
Echo kept looking up at the stained glass window above the altar. It depicted two men, one tall with long golden hair and a sword, the other small and wearing dark robes, holding aloft the four-pronged ring of Arceus; a smaller, stylized version of the large metal ring that hung behind the altar, flanked by a glittering diamond, a sparkling pearl, and a large piece of amber in the lower three quadrants. Above the two men, a jagged avian shape seemed to descend from the heavens, light streaming from its feathers. “It had to be St. W-Wulfric’s, huh?” Echo muttered. “Just my l-luck.”
“Huh?”
“N-Nothing. So wh-what’s g-going on here?’
Alex nodded towards the sacristy. “The girl in there is called the Shadow. She’s a thief who’s crossed paths with me a few times before. She was contracted by Envy to steal a diamond that’s supposed to boost the psychic powers of the Sins’ new boss, but she decided she didn’t want the Sins to have that kind of leverage, so she broke the deal and went on the run. She’s been hunted for days, and she needed me to get her here, where she figured she could lay low.”
“But th-that didn’t work.”
“Nope. I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but it’s probably going to get messy. They’ll be back, and they’ll bring reinforcements. I can’t ask you to stay, but I’m going to do what I can to protect the Shadow. She may be a criminal, but this time, her heart’s in the right place.”
Echo folded her arms and scowled. “You d-dumbass. You really th-think I’m g-going to run away? This is m-my borough, and I’m g-going to protect it. If Envy w-wants a fight, he’s g-got one.”
“Thanks, but it’s not just Envy and his people. He’s tapped some of Wrath’s bombers for backup.”
“Wrath’s guys?” To Alex’s surprise, Echo’s face broke into a grin. “Then w-we’re in luck.” She pulled out her cell phone. “Give me a minute.”
Shepherd Matthew emerged from the sacristy and saw Alex staring up at the stained glass window and the three gems behind the altar. The shepherd pointed towards the man in dark robes. “That’s Saint Wulfric pacifying Zapdos with the power of the Lord.”
“Who’s the other man?”
"Oh, just some barbarian king. It's not important." The pastor pointed to a wooden statue to the left of the altar. It depicted a bearded man sitting astride a Gogoat. A Chatot sat in the open palm of his left hand, and his right was raised in the air, as though delivering a sermon. “Saint Wulfric the Shipwright was abducted and enslaved by northern raiders near what is now modern Coumarine City in Kalos. Over time, he won the trust of his captors, and aided the king of the northmen in quelling a Zapdos who had terrorized their lands, a Zapdos the natives had come to worship as a god. When the beast was subdued, Wulfric undertook his mission to bring the light of Arceus to the lands north of Kalos, and the church canonized him for his efforts.”
“We t-tell the st-story a little d-differently where I’m from,” Echo said as she joined them by the altar.
Matthew’s eyes narrowed. He was too kindly to scowl, but Alex could tell that he was not a man used to being contradicted. “Is that so?”
“Yeah. The w-way I heard it, Saint W-Wulfric was nowhere n-near the Zapdos. King Halvard the G-Golden tamed Zapdos all b-by himself. Wulfric was f-far away, l-leading Halvard’s army to r-retake his throne.”
“A rousing story, I’m sure, but the historical records are all in agreement that Saint Wulfric was a staunch pacifist who abhorred violence. It’s very unlikely he would have led an army.”
Echo shrugged. “That’s just how the st-story goes it in northern K-Kalos.”
A boom from outside cut off Matthew’s reply. Alex glanced over at Echo. “They’re back.”
Echo nodded and swung her guitar around. “M-Mezzo! Forte! W-We’ve got an encore!”
Alex turned to Shepherd Matthew. “Stay here, and try to stay safe.” He whistled to Hierro, and together they raced out the church doors. Crescita was already in the air, shrieking at the new adversaries. Fire and poison types snarled and hissed in the shadows, and the cold glint of metal shone in their trainers’ hands. But one man stood under a flickering street light, a Luxray crouching at his heels.
Yousef al Najem, known to most as Envy, smiled a languid smile as Alex and Hierro bounded down the stairs of the church. “So, you’re Hawlucha Man. I thought you’d be taller.”
“I’m tall enough to kick your ass,” Alex growled as he kicked one of Envy’s thugs in the chest, sending him sprawling into the next grunt in line. But Alex never made it to al Najem; he was tackled by an Arcanine and pinned beneath the fire type’s paws. Hierro was locked in combat with two Bisharp, and a Drapion loomed up behind him. Alex tried to squirm out from under the Arcanine’s bulk, but the canine was heavy, and fire pooled around its jaws. Alex tried to activate the stun function on his batons, but before he could shift his fingers, a Dusknoir burst from the shadows and delivered a sharp uppercut to the Arcanine’s snout. The fire type reared back in surprise, giving Alex the opening he needed. He kicked the Arcanine in its chest, sending it whimpering to the ground. Alex pivoted on his heel and leapt at the Drapion, jabbing his batons up and into the poison type’s mouth and letting loose with the strongest stun setting. Hierro used the opening to whirl around with a spinning kick, knocking the two Bisharp flat.
“Not bad,” al Najem hissed. “But not good enough!” His Luxray’s mane crackled with electricity, and before Alex could think to get to cover, the electric type roared, discharging the voltage.
The Dusknoir whirled and stopped the electric attack with a rippling black barrier. A masked man in a tuxedo put a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Looks like I’m making a habit out of saving your impulsive ass, Hawlucha Man.” The Luxray’s attack dissipated, and the Dusknoir lowered its hands. The Phantom flipped his cape back and glared at al Najem. “Are you done, Envy? Because any child can tell you that after lightning…”
“Comes the THUNDER!” Echo roared. She struck a loud, sustained note that her pokemon amplified into a sonic assault as powerful as any Alex had seen. Envy and his Luxray were lifted off their feet and slammed into the wall at the far side of the plaza. The Phantom snapped his fingers, and ghost types started to bubble up from the pavement, shrieking and howling as they rose into the air, only to rapidly descend on Envy’s reinforcements in a flurry of burning claws and flashing fangs.
The Phantom twirled his cane around and drew a thin dueling blade from the handle. “Echo explained everything to me. My ghosts and I will keep Wrath’s bombers occupied. You and Echo make Envy regret he ever set foot in my town.” He twirled his sword in a fencer’s salute and charged into the thickest crowd of anarchists, screaming a war cry. His Dusknoir swept after him, emitting an exultant hum from the antenna on its head.
Hierro struck his claws together, and fire blossomed around his fists again. Alex settled into a fighting stance and stood back to back with his partner. “I’m never going to get over how cool that is, by the way.” Hierro smirked, and then the enemy was upon them. They ducked and twirled, lashing out with kicks and punches, felling trainer and pokemon alike.
Atop the church stairs, Forte and Mezzo had dropped to a low crouch, their arms rigid to brace themselves against the fury of Echo’s playing. She whipped her head back, her platinum blonde hair framing her face like a halo, before starting in on a new chord progression.
“Across the waves his voice is heard
He rules the seas
I sing the tales of yesteryear
HAIL THE KING!”
The Phantom’s blade flashed in the streetlights, each flicker punctuated by a fresh spray of blood. A Typhlosion reared up, the flames on its back blazing white hot. As it sucked in a breath, the Phantom whipped out his free hand. “Gregor!” His Dusknoir appeared in front of him, and just as the Typhlosion released a torrent of fire, the Dusknoir raised his right hand and conjured another shadowy barrier that drank in the flames. Gregor’s left hand drew back, and a glowing orange and yellow orb appeared in the open palm. Once the Typhlosion had exhausted itself, Gregor thrust his hand forward, hurling the orb at the fire type and sending it into a screeching cloud of ghost types.
“And when we hear the dragon’s roar
The Golden King is here!
With flashing eyes
And thunder’s roll
RAISE YOUR SWORDS!”
Several of the Sins’ enforcers were lifted from their feet by the sonic force of Echo’s pokemon. Despite the powerful blasts, Alex found that he was not hampered by the sound-based attacks like he had been in previous team-ups with Echo. So long as he remained close to the Phantom’s Dusknoir, there seemed to be an insulating effect produced by the ghost type’s constant atonal humming. Alex wasn’t sure how it worked, but it explained why Echo and the Phantom had been such effective collaborators for so long.
Al Najem lunged at Alex, a knife glinting in his hand. Alex retreated a pace before bringing up his baton and blocked the thief’s next strike. He jumped up and delivered a kick to the center of al Najem’s chest, making the man stagger. “You should be honored,” Envy hissed as he came in for another attack. “It’s not often I get my hands dirty like this.”
Alex scoffed. “I can see why you don’t. Your technique sucks.” He switched his grip on his baton to clutch it halfway up its length, in the center of his fist. He struck out with an uppercut just beneath Envy’s ribcage, throwing enough power behind the blow to lift Envy a few inches into the air. As the thief leaned into the punch, Alex head-butted al Najem in the center of his forehead. It was a risky move, and left Alex a little stunned, but the look of shock on al Najem’s face was worth it. “You should just call the retreat now,” Alex growled. “Your boss won’t be happy you lost the diamond, but she’ll be even more pissed if you lost the diamond and got your ass kicked.”
Envy’s Luxray pounced, lightning crackling along its incisors, but Hierro vaulted over Alex’s shoulders and slammed one blazing fist into the middle of the electric type’s face before somersaulting onto its back and laying it low with a dropkick. The Luxray struggled to its feet, but before it could retaliate, Hierro screamed and kicked it down again. Alex rushed at al Najem, swept the man’s legs out from under him, and clubbed the Sin with one of his batons. The man sank to the pavement, but Alex hauled him back up by his shirt collar. “Listen up, asshole. Forget the diamond. Forget the Shadow. Cut your losses and slink off with your tail between your legs.” He shoved Envy against one of the streetlamps. “Look around. There’s no way you’re going to win this.”
The Phantom’s ghost army had al Najem’s goons on the defensive, and any that managed to fight clear were immediately caught up in Echo’s sonic onslaught. Envy himself was bruised and bleeding, but he still managed to crack a mocking smile. “You really think so, Hawlucha Man?” He popped the clasp on his belt, and yanked a drawstring. There was a clatter as the pins were pulled from the grenades al Najem had worn along his waist, and his belt dropped to the ground. Alex released the thief and staggered backwards.
“Hierro, run! Grenade!”
The Phantom whistled, and his ghosts scattered into the night. His Dusknoir seized him and they disappeared into the shadows. A fraction of a second later, Alex felt a heavy hand grab his arm and yank him backwards. He had the strangest sense of being pulled through a narrow tube, and a hot, sulfurous wind blowing on his face. Then he was blinking in the light of St. Wulfric’s, beside the Phantom and Hierro. Crescita had vanished in a flash of red light as Echo hurried Mezzo and Forte inside, and the Exploud threw his bulk against the heavy wooden door.
In the square, there was a bright flash that Alex saw through the stained glass windows. The Phantom let out a breath. “Just a flashbang, thank Arceus.”
Alex smoothed down Hierro’s feathers and turned to the Phantom. “Thanks for the save. Again.”
“Don’t thank me. That was all Gregor.”
Alex inclined his head to the Dusknoir. “I’m in your debt. Thank you.” The Dusknoir’s hum changed slightly in cadence and tone, but it remained otherwise impassive.
“Light on your feet, aren’t you?” Envy’s voice rang out, loud enough that Alex assumed that he was using some kind of megaphone. “Now, I’ve got no wish to storm a church. I’m a reasonable man, and I’ll offer you a deal. If you give me what’s mine, I’m willing to forget this unpleasantness and we can all go about our nights.
“But if you don’t, well. It seems some of the hired help I’ve brought on for this job have called their boss. Mr. Aukai doesn’t share my scrupulous nature or moral code. He will have no qualms digging your corpses from the rubble and taking the diamond from your cold dead fingers. He’ll be here in just a few minutes. You have until then to decide.” The megaphone crackled as al Najem turned it off and then turned it on again. “And before you try anything of the sort, know that I’ve stationed my men at all possible exits. You may have bloodied our noses, but we can hold you long enough to take that diamond.”
“They’re going to bomb my church?” Shepherd Matthew gasped.
“Not if we have anything to say about it,” Alex replied. “Phantom, you can teleport. Take the diamond and get far away from here.”
“Hell no. If Wrath’s coming here, then I’m staying.”
“D-Don’t be so st-stubborn, F-Fancypants,” Echo said. “We c-can’t l-let Dominion get this d-diamond.”
The Phantom scowled. “I’ve been hunting Wrath for five years. Every time, he’s managed to slip through my fingers and run away. But if we keep the diamond here, he’ll be forced to stand his ground and fight. I can beat him, you know I can!”
“This is m-more important than your st-stupid vendetta!”
“What could be more important than taking out the biggest threat to Clarus City?”
“Letting Dominion become an even bigger threat!” Alex snapped. “And there’s more than just the diamond at stake! Wrath has no problem with civilian casualties, and there are too many innocents around here for a fight to escalate. If we can show them that the diamond isn’t here, then they’ll have to leave to look for it.”
“Enough!” The three heroes whirled to see the Shadow standing against the altar, her face pale, but her back straight. “No one’s running, but they aren’t going to get the diamond.”
Shepherd Matthew stepped between the heroes and the thief. “My church is at risk here. If you just give them the gem, that man promised they would go away. That might be the easiest path.”
“Don’t t-trust criminals to k-keep their word,” Echo said.
“We should stand and fight,” the Phantom said. “And if things look difficult, Hawlucha Man and I can keep Wrath pinned while Gregor retreats to take the diamond. He’ll fall back to a secure location, and then when Wrath is in custody, I’ll drop the damn thing into the middle of the ocean.”
“Now wait a second!” the Shadow snapped. “That’s not—”
“Time’s up!” Envy’s voice boomed from outside.
“Little Tepig, little Tepig,” another voice drawled, made hoarse by what sounded like years of heavy smoking. “Let me come in!”
“Oh, g-go fuck yourself!” Echo shouted back. At Shepherd Matthew’s stern look, the heroine threw up her hands and mouthed “Really?”
Aukai tsked. “Then I guess I’ll just have to huff, and puff, and blow your house down!”
Alex heard the ticking noise at the same time Echo did. “Get down!” she screamed. Alex tackled Shepherd Matthew to the floor of the church and dragged him behind a pew. “Forte!” Echo shouted again, and Alex heard the air whistling through the Exploud’s pipes.
Gregor wrapped the Phantom in an embrace and sank into a shadow. “No!” the Phantom screamed as he strained against his pokemon. “No! I need to stay and fight! I need—”
His words were lost as he was pulled into the inky darkness, and Forte bellowed. Alex clapped his hands over his ears and pressed himself to the ground.
And then the world exploded into light, and then fire, and finally dust.
When Alex realized he was still alive and conscious, he reached up and flicked on the thermal vision Jiro had installed on his visor to see through the whirling dust. Beside him, Hierro’s back rose and fell in a regular tempo, and after running a hand through his partner’s feathers, Alex could see no obvious wounds. He then checked Shepherd Matthew, and the man groaned under his touch. Alex’s hand came away sticky with blood, and he switched back to his normal vision. The Shepherd had a cut on his head, but seemed otherwise unharmed.
As the dust settled, Alex saw Forte standing alone in the center aisle of the church, holding a large piece of debris up to prevent it from crushing a shell-shocked Echo. Somehow, the Exploud had managed to use a sonic pulse to turn the force of Wrath’s bomb back on itself and spare the church from complete destruction. The entire front wall was blown open, but everything behind Forte had been spared the worst of the explosion. Alex could see blood running down the pokemon’s arms, and Forte trembled as he struggled to stand. With a final grunt of effort, he shoved the rubble to the ground and sank to his knees, crouching protectively over his trainer.
The Shadow was slumped against the back wall of the church, directly beneath the window depicting the northern king and St. Wulfric subduing the Zapdos. It somehow (Alex refused to call it a miracle) had not been shattered.
Outside, Wrath barked a command, and his men began to advance from the far side of the scarred plaza. Next to Alex, a chunk of rubble moaned and stretched out a hand. Alex hurried to Mezzo’s side and helped the Loudred to his feet.
He needed a plan, and fast. He couldn’t take on all of the anarchists alone, even if he wasn’t exhausted from his pursuit across two boroughs and the earlier fight. And then he saw a rope dangling from the church steeple.
“Mezzo, listen to me.” The Loudred groaned, but managed to stay on his feet. “I need you to amplify something for me. You’ll know it when you hear it. Can you do that? One more sonic boom?” The Loudred grimaced but nodded. Alex gave him a pat on the arm. “’Atta boy. Hierro, what about you?” The Hawlucha rose to his feet, dusted himself off and gave Alex a thumbs up. “This will all be over soon, buddy. But I need you to make one last charge. Do you trust me?” Hierro rolled his eyes, but he settled into a crouch, ready to spring forward at Alex’s signal. “Thank you,” Alex said. “All right. On my mark… now!”
He and Hierro sprinted forward, screaming at the top of their voices. Alex heard Mezzo draw in a breath, but spared a glance over his shoulder. “Not yet! Hang on!”
The first of the anarchists cleared the door, and Hierro fell on them in a frenzy, spinning in a maelstrom of swift kicks and fiery punches. Alex lashed out with his batons, but he didn’t allow himself to become embroiled in the fight. A Scyther swooped down at him, only to receive a face full of flames for its trouble. Hierro pivoted and back-flipped into a Machoke before springing forward and clobbering one of Wrath’s grunts into submission. Alex ran forward and sprang onto the back of an overturned pew, using it as a jumping-off point to clear the heads of his foes and grab hold of the bell rope.
“Mezzo, now!”
The church bell began to toll, and Mezzo amplified the clanging into a sonic shockwave that he aimed straight into the cluster of anarchists. Hierro shot into the air, above the range of the attack, and looped back over Mezzo’s head. The anarchists were stopped cold by the shockwave, and Alex slid down the rope, ignoring the burning sensation on his palms. “Keep it up!” he shouted as he yanked the rope a second time.
Mezzo inhaled deeply and braced himself, gripping the pew beside him hard enough that Alex could see the veins bulging in the Loudred’s arm. Alex shouted a wordless battle cry and set the bell clanging again. This time, the sonic power lifted Alex and the anarchists off their feet. Alex clung to the rope and felt his eardrums pop, and he tried to ignore the trickle of blood running down the side of his face. The anarchists and their pokemon were hurled down the stone steps.
An Incineroar bounded up into the ruined church, only for Hierro to dive down and slam a clawed foot into the dark type’s face. The feline yowled as Hierro bounced off the ground, following up his initial strike with a flurry of sharp punches to the Incineroar’s abdomen. Alex lunged and tackled the beast, knocking it off balance long enough for Hierro to shoot up into the air and spread his wings against the church’s vaulted ceiling. He stiffened his muscles and descended with a wild paean cry, slamming into the Incineroar and sending it flying back out of the church.
The shadows by the ruined fountain in the center of the plaza shifted, and Gregor sprang forth, catching the Incineroar in midair. The Dusknoir wasted no time in contorting its spectral form and supplexing the dark type into the pavement. The Phantom burst from his partner’s back. “Wrath! You’re not getting away this time!” At the sound of his voice, his ghosts reappeared and joined the fight, pressing the anarchists back. Alex and Hierro raced out into the night again as the Phantom drew his dueling blade and engaged Aukai.
Alex jumped over a snarling Banette and spread his wings, soaring out over the plaza and dropping down on Aukai with a kick to the shoulder. The mad bomber staggered back with a snarl. The Phantom whirled on Alex, but before he could say anything, Alex slashed his hand through the air. “You said before that you wanted my help on this. We’re stronger together.” The Phantom gave a brusque nod, and together they set on Wrath.
The anarchist was faster and stronger than Envy, but all of his moves were telegraphed. He wielded his jagged knife with all the finesse of a drunkard, and Alex and Hierro had no trouble dancing back from the obvious strikes. Each time, Alex expected a feint, but none came. The Phantom drove his blade into Wrath’s thigh, and Aukai cried out in pain. He lashed out at the Phantom with his knife, even as his left hand reached into his leather jacket.
“He’s going for his gun!” the Phantom shouted.
“Not a chance!” Alex thrust one baton into Wrath’s chest, and Hierro sprang over his partner’s back to deliver a punch to the anarchist’s face. When Alex heard Aukai’s nose crunch, he swept up with his right hand and slammed his second baton against Aukai’s left forearm, making the bomber drop his gun. Alex kicked it away and forced Wrath to his knees.
Around him, the anarchists closed in, only to be stopped in their tracks by a piercing note from a red electric guitar. There was no sonic blast, only a sound that held all of the combatants rapt. Echo stood atop the church stairs once again, silhouetted by the light behind her.
“I, high king
Sovereign and servant
Holder of divine power
Bestowed on a windswept shore!”
A light flashed behind the stylized Zapdos, and in the glare Echo’s hair seemed to shine brighter.
“Thou shalt know me by my fruits
The abundance in which we grew
The signs and wonders at our feet
Which the grace of the gods reveaed!
My kingdom prospered and grew!”
Wrath’s anarchists saw that Echo’s music no longer posed a threat to them, and they advanced warily, their knives glittering. Echo played on undaunted, her face a stony visage, as though carved in marble. As soon as the first of the anarchists mounted the church steps, a sonic pulse slammed down on them from above. Crescita swooped out of the sky, her black and indigo wings flaring as she stabilized herself and unleashed another pulse. Echo’s face twisted into a savage grin, and she struck a long, lingering note that built into a crescendo.
“I am the fool of Rovengald!
I am the tamer of the dragon Uthald!
I am the servant of the northern people!
The thunder… answers to ME!”
By now, Mezzo and Forte had limped to her side, and with a whistle of wind, they inhaled.
“THE BLOOD OF KINGS IS IN! MY! VEINS!”
Any anarchists left standing were forced to their knees, as though made to bow before the sonic hero. Alex saw them writhe as the force of her song made the blood vessels in their eyes burst and their eardrums rupture. Their pokemon were similarly affected, reduced to trembling at their masters’ heels in the face of Echo’s superior power. Were it not for Gregor’s interference, Alex was sure that he and the Phantom would be likewise incapacitated.
“Well, that was impressive.” Alex’s head whipped up at the sound of Envy’s voice coming from inside the church. Echo whirled, ready to strike another chord. The thief tutted as he stepped out into the center aisle, dragging Shepherd Matthew’s prone form with him. He laid his knife against the man’s throat. “Hand over the diamond, and the good Shepherd lives. Refuse, and he dies.”
Alex gritted his teeth. Keeping the diamond out of the Sins’ hands was important, but he couldn’t gamble an innocent life over a piece of rock. But then, the choice was hardly his to make, because the diamond was still with...
“Wait,” the Shadow said from behind the altar. She heaved herself to her feet and lurched down towards Envy, spreading her hands to show she had no weapons. “Don’t hurt him. He’s suffered enough.”
Al Najem’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Whether or not I hurt him is entirely up to you, my dear.”
The Shadow drew the diamond from a pouch on her belt. “You want this so bad? Fine.” She held it out to al Najem, and just before he took it from her, the Shadow snatched it back. “On one condition. You keep to the terms of your previous offer. I give you this, and you all leave. The fighting stops, and you go report to your boss like the pathetic little Lilipup you are.”
Al Najem scowled at the insult, but his eyes were locked on the diamond in her hand. “Fine. Give me the stone.”
The Shadow tossed it to him, and he caught it out of the air, shoving Shepherd Matthew away from him as he did. Al Najem strode out of the church and snapped his fingers at Wrath’s men. “All right, up and at ‘em. We’ve drawn enough attention for one night.” He yanked the Phantom’s sword from Wrath’s leg and tossed it at the masked hero’s feet. Wrath howled in pain, but al Najem hauled him to his feet and supported his weight. As the anarchists limped off into the shadows, Wrath forced out a laugh.
“You gave your word, huh? But I sure as hell didn’t. Light ‘em up!”
Several of his men pressed the buttons on detonators, and Alex threw himself to the ground as several buildings around the plaza exploded. The screams of people hiding in their tenements filled the air, and fires burst along the shingled roofs. Alex could only watch in mute horror as the aging buildings sagged and collapsed.
The Phantom swept past him. “Come on! If we hurry we can—”
Alex grabbed the Phantom’s arm. “No. We’re needed here.”
“They’re getting away!”
“Let them. We’ll have other chances. There are people here who need our help.”
The Phantom jerked his arm out Alex’s grasp. “Don’t be a fool! The first responders will be here any minute!”
Echo shook her head as she walked over to them. “We are the f-first responders.”
“But the villains—”
Alex grabbed the Phantom’s lapel. “Are you a hero or not?” he snapped. “These people need us. They need you.” He shoved the Phantom away. “So make your choice. Are you a hero, or are you just a vigilante with an axe to grind?”
Behind his mask, the Phantom glared at Alex, but Gregor laid a hand on his trainer’s shoulder. At the ghost type’s touch, the Phantom went stiff, and then abruptly sighed. “You’re right. Some things are more important.” He clapped his hands together and whistled to his ghostly legion. “All right! Search every building! Save whoever you can! If you find someone you can’t help, fetch one of us. Go!” The swarm of Ghastly, Haunter, Banette, and Mismagius dove into the wreckage. The Phantom then snapped his fingers at a pair of Lampent and a Chandelure. “You three, start controlling the fires. If you find anyone still alive, don’t get too close, and let me know immediately.” Finally, he turned to Gregor. “Do what you must.” The psychopomp nodded solemnly and bled into the shadows.
Alex and Hierro worked with Mezzo to shift as much rubble as they could and pull any survivors from the wreckage until the rescue crews arrived. Alex was weak and shaking with fatigue, and his hands were raw and sore. He did his best to wipe the dust from his face and wondered if he could hit up the Phantom for cab fare to get home.
As the EMTs and fire fighters spread out across the plaza, Captain Ito debriefed with the Phantom and Echo. Alex trudged over to the cracked and broken church steps where the Shadow sat beside a rather stunned Shepherd Matthew. “Are you both all right?”
The Shepherd shook himself out of his daze. “A little rattled, but compared to this…” He gazed out at the wreckage of the plaza. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sorry about the church.”
“It’s… well, it’s not ideal. But the grace of Arceus will see us through.” He smiled weakly up at Alex. “And on the less metaphysical side of things, St. Ulfi’s in Ridgewood will help us coordinate the rebuilding.” He rose slowly to his feet. “I’ll need to make quite a lot of calls in the morning but for now… I think I need to lie down.” He trudged off through the wreckage of his church, and Alex sat down beside the Shadow.
“What about you?”
The thief shrugged. “Still a little weak. I think I bruised a rib or two in all the excitement, and the poison still hasn’t run its course yet. But I’ll live.”
Alex hung his head. “I can’t believe that after all that, we still had to give up the diamond. I’ll need to let Jiro know, we need a plan to—”
“I didn’t give them the diamond.” The Shadow’s mouth turned up into an impish grin. “Do you really think I’d go through all the trouble to get it this far only to fork it over at the last second? By Arceus, birdbrain, you really are dense.”
“But… I saw…”
The Shadow rolled her eyes. “A good thief never gives back a prize. Look, I may not have been entirely honest with you. I didn’t come to St. Wulf’s because it’s a safe house. I came for that.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder.
“The window?”
“Not the window, dingus. Below it. The gems on the altar?”
“Uh…”
“The diamond on the altar. Well, it was really a hunk of glass, a little parish like this couldn’t afford a diamond that big.” The Shadow raised an eyebrow. “Still not getting it? Didn’t you notice that the hunk of worthless rock there is almost exactly the same shape as the diamond the Sins were after?”
“You didn’t…”
“I did.”
“You switched them out?”
“I just said that, birdbrain. But I figure little Ms. Exploud over there blew out your eardrums like five times tonight, so I guess I can cut you some slack.” The Shadow leaned back. “Yup, I figure Envy is going to be pretty peeved when he finds out. But by then, I’ll have dumped the genuine article somewhere in the bay, and he’ll just have to think we were all duped. Pretty clever, right?”
“You’d give up a prize like that? Couldn’t you fleece that diamond for enough money to set yourself up for life?”
“The look on Envy’s face when he realizes is payment enough, believe me.”
Alex smiled and rose to his feet with a groan, and Hierro jumped up beside him. “You know, I think I’m detecting an altruistic streak.”
“Don’t get your hopes up.”
Alex smiled. “If you say so.” He paused. “This was almost… fun. Maybe we should do it again sometime. I could make a hero out of you yet.”
“Keep dreaming, birdbrain!”
“Whatever you say, Shadow.” He started to walk away, but the Shadow called him back.
“Bridget. My name’s Bridget. Bri to my friends.” She grimaced. “Well, it would be, if I had any friends.” The thief shrugged. “I figure maybe, on the slight chance we cross paths again, it’s less of a mouthful than ‘the Shadow’.”
“See you around then, Bri.” He started to walk away, but paused. A show of trust like that deserved one in return. Even if she was a crook. He turned back and tapped his chest. “I’m Alex.”
Bridget wrinkled her nose. “If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll stick with birdbrain.” Then she sighed. “Look, I’m going to get serious for a second, okay? I owe you for what you did tonight. I asked for your protection, and you didn’t even hesitate to help me. No, stop, don’t give me that whole ‘that’s what heroes do’ crap. This is hard enough for me to say already.” She shook her head. “You don’t even know me. Hell, all you know about me is that we’re on different sides of the law and that I work for the kind of people who want you dead. But you helped me, and I… I appreciate that. So like I said, I owe you.”
“You’re welcome. But you don’t owe me anything. I do this pro bono.”
“I told you to cut the heroic talk for a second.” The Shadow shook her head. “Even if you say I don’t have to make this up to you, I want to. I don’t like being in people’s debt, so I’m going to find a way to pay you back. I’ve got ears in a lot of places, so if I learn anything that might help you, I’ll pass it along.” She smirked. “Besides, after tonight, I want to stick it to the Sins too.”
“Well, you know where I live. Apparently.”
The Shadow shrugged and held out the fist of her uninjured arm for Alex to tap. “See you around, birdbrain. Try not to get yourself killed.”
Alex bumped her fist. “You too.” He looked up at the sky, already brightening with the first light of dawn, and ran his hand through Hierro’s feathers. “Let’s go home, buddy. At least we can sleep in like Jiro told us to.”
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girl-like-substance
the seal will bite you if you give him half a chance
Posts: 527
Pronouns: xe/xem
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Post by girl-like-substance on Dec 16, 2018 16:25:48 GMT
Saint Wulfric's! Canonised for converting the heathen northerners, huh? Nice to see he was remembered – and in a way that he'd truly appreciate, too. Equally nice to see that people remember the other half of the story, as well; Wulfric wouldn't want Halvard's role in the story undermined, and, well, the guy was a bit conflicted about a Lot of things, so it feels appropriate that even his history is torn between idealised Church folklore and a rather more bloody legend of battle.
Anyway, intertextuality aside, this is a rather different chapter – kind of a siege sorta thing, which isn't something we've had before. And then a really, really desperate crisis with a dramatic turnaround – which, again, that's something kind of different; it's not that Alex hasn't been severely tested before, but this is, I think, the first time that he and his colleagues, even working together, have had to give quite this much ground before managing to salvage the situation. Which, of course, makes it a great opportunity for the next generation of Clarus City heroes to start assuming the mantle of their elders; this is a situation that no single one of them could have resolved, that almost sent them off on their separate personal quests before they all pulled together to learn the true meaning of friendship, and that's obviously the next step in the right direction for them and their careers as heroes. Even the Shadow, apparently!
There's a superfluous 'it' in here.
And an extra P in 'suplexing'.
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Post by bay on Dec 20, 2018 7:41:42 GMT
All right, so I got a bit behind here. I'll play a bit of catch up here for Chapters 19 -21. They won't be in depth as the past reviews, but I want to let you know a few of my thoughts on those at least!
Marcus and Stocks being married is quite a twist for sure. I too thought it was interesting over the possibiity the villians and heroes might have to deal with Dominion together. Not surprising that meeting didn't go well at all at first.
Poor Alex, he really doesn't know when to take a break huh, lol. Quite a lot of high aderdeline fights here as usual. Some of Shadow's and Alex's intearctions are fun, my favorite being this:
Such sass, Alex.
This one is fun too:
All right, now onto the latest chapter. So I take it the St Wulfric references are from your other story, The Halvarsaga? Man, I need to check that one out eventually since the concept of Vikings with Pokemon sounds so cool. Still, thought it's neat you're able to fit that into Hawluch Man's world there.
Other parts I like are Echo rocking hard out there, and the Phantom getting over his revenge mindset. Yes Alex, you and Hierro go to rest finally haha.
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Post by Firebrand on Jan 6, 2019 16:32:02 GMT
Chapter 22
“Mr. Publick?” Jonathan looked up from the paperwork strewn across his desk and blinked. It was the new girl, standing in the doorway to his office. Helen? Hayley. “Will you need anything else tonight?”
Jonathan shook his head. “No, no, feel free to head home. I’ll lock up when I’m done.”
The paralegal nodded and eased his door closed again. Jonathan shook his head and smiled. She was young, and she’d outgrow the nerves soon enough. Coming right out of college and stepping into a role at Avery, Smith, & Wesson was enough to make anyone a little nervous, he supposed. But he had been a partner here for over a decade, and a senior partner for a third of that time. After walking through the same office door for so many years, the sense of awe at working at one of the most prestigious law offices in Clarus City had worn off. Now it was just a day job. And an evening job. And occasionally a late night job.
He went back to marking up the contract on his desk, and by the time his cell phone buzzed, the shadows in his office had lengthened. Jonathan accepted the call and put it on speaker. “Hello honey,” he said.
“Going to be burning the midnight oil again?” his wife asked, her voice crackling as it came through the phone speaker.
“Afraid so. You don’t mind leaving some dinner in the fridge for me?”
“And I'll put the kids to bed. You know, I’m pretty sure they’ve forgotten what their father looks like.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll find a way to make it up to them. Tell them I said good night?”
“I will. You do what you need to.” He could hear the smile in his wife’s voice. “What are you working on tonight? The usual stuff, or… pro bono?”
“For now, just the usual, but I’ve got some pro bono work on the pile too. It’s going to be a late night, I think.”
His wife was quiet for a moment. “Just stay safe, John.”
“I will. I’ll see you when I get home.”
He kept working until the long summer twilight finally faded into night. When his office was plunged into darkness, Jonathan stood up, stretched, padded quietly over to his office door, and peered out. The rest of the floor was silent, lit only by idle computer monitors. Satisfied he was alone, Jonathan removed his cufflinks and set them on his desk. He opened a small coat closet at the back of his office and removed the garment bag within. He quickly stripped out of his slacks, tie, and button-down shirt, and pulled on his other suit. He paused only to take the pokeball off the window ledge before slipping out to the elevators and riding it up to the top floor of his building. From there, he drew out the spare set of custodian keys he had made and unlocked the small closet that led to the rooftop HVAC access. He emerged onto the roof of the office tower, the noise of the city filtering up from the street thirty stories below.
He slid on his blue and white striped helmet and tossed his pokeball into the air. “All right George, let’s go!” His Braviary soared up into the air, beating his wings three times before plunging back down to the roof. Jonathan reached out and ran his hand through his partner’s feathered crown and strapped a simple harness to the flying type’s back. He secured himself with a carabineer and patted George’s neck twice.
They shot out over Clarus City, gaining altitude with each powerful beat of George’s wings. The Braviary weaved through the glittering spires of downtown Clarus while his sharp eyes scanned the streets below for any sort of disturbance. As they shot over Foundry Park, a boom echoed through the steel and glass canyons. George whirled in the air and raced towards the sound as sirens started to blare on the surrounding streets. The explosion had occurred on the third floor of a skyscraper, and chunks of masonry and broken glass littered the street. Figures clothed in black body armor had infiltrated the crowd of panicked civilians, led by a woman with a Pyroar crouching at her heels. The woman raised a machine gun in the air and fired several rounds, making people scream.
George shrieked and dove as his trainer disconnected from the flying harness. Jonathan dropped to the street as George soared back up into the air to engage a flock of hostile flying type pokemon. Jonathan seized the gun of one of the men in body armor, wrenched it from his hands, and removed the magazine before using the gun to strike the side of the man’s head. He dropped with a groan, and Jonathan whirled on the next foe. When he had similarly disarmed and incapacitated the man, he lifted his fingers to his lips and gave a piercing whistle. “Have no fear, citizens! Captain Unova is here!” He pointed down the street. “Please proceed in an orderly fashion to… oh no.” He tackled a woman to the ground as one of the armored men raised his gun. The spray of bullets went wide as George dropped from the sky and struck the man with his closed talons, sending the gunman flying backwards. George pivoted and tensed up the muscles in his wings, sweeping into a Gurdurr and Monferno.
“Thanks for the save, partner!” Jonathan called as he helped the woman to her feet and turned towards the smoldering building. He started to shove his way through the panicked crowd, but the press of people hampered him. He cursed under his breath, knowing that if he didn’t hurry, he wouldn’t be able to stop Pride from whatever she was planning. “Please, let me through! I need to… I’m sorry, please stand aside so that I—”
A shriek sounded above Captain Unova’s head, sharper and more high-pitched than George’s call. A red and white blur dropped from the sky into a knot of Pride’s enforcers. “Citizens of Clarus City!” someone shouted over the chaos. “The police have set up a cordon one block back! Make your way there to receive emergency medical attention. The CCPD will take things from here!”
Jonathan looked up to where the voice was coming from, and saw a young man in a black and red costume standing on the stone terrace of the Clarus Gazette offices. As the crowd started to hasten back to the cordon, he spread his arms wide and jumped, only for the fabric of his wingsuit to catch the wind and carry him aloft. “As for you!” he shouted at Pride’s fifteen or so enforcers. “Get ready for a world of hurt!”
He dropped out of the sky just as his partner pokemon hurled a Croagunk out of the melee. Hawlucha Man drew a pair of batons from his belt and jabbed them into the poison type’s back, and an electric current coursed through the amphibian’s body. Captain Unova whistled again. “Hawlucha Man!”
The winged hero glanced over at Jonathan. “You’re here?”
“Just passing by.” Jonathan turned on his heel and grabbed the wrist of an oncoming man, grasping hard enough that he dropped the knife he was holding. With a grunt, Jonathan hurled him into a charging Primeape, and both man and pokemon fell in a heap.
Hawlucha Man sprinted past, his batons twirling. “I was hoping to stop this before the bomb went off, but Hierro and I were too late.” He delivered a flying kick to an Electabuzz as his Hawlucha jumped into the air to support George. “The Sins are after something in that building, and they sent Wrath in to get it. I’m hoping to lure him out here before he can do any more damage. After my last run in with him, I hear he’s spoiling for a fight to settle the score.”
“So the best way to get him out is to put pressure on Pride?”
“Pretty much.” Hawlucha Man pivoted to stand back-to-back with Captain Unova. “You willing to back me up?”
“Helping out is what heroes do.”
Hawlucha Man grinned. “Awesome. Let’s kick some ass.”
Jonathan lashed out with a kick at one of Pride’s men and signaled to George. The Braviary spun in the air and dropped back towards the ground, using his rigid wings to batter human and pokemon alike, clearing a path for the two heroes. Hawlucha Man and Captain Unova sprinted through the passageway just as a CCPD riot squad arrived behind them. Hawlucha Man spared a quick glance over his shoulder. “Let them handle the stragglers and protect the civilians. We’ve got to take Pride down.”
His Hawlucha partner swooped down and struck its talons together, setting its fists ablaze. It turned on a Cacturne, Weavile and Scrafty that were attempting to flank Hawlucha Man and beat them back with a series of fiery punches and lightning-fast kicks.
George screamed out a warning as Pride turned on the two heroes. Her Pyroar jumped to her defense, only for Captain Unova’s Braviary to tackle it out of the air. Jonathan put on a burst of speed, snatching the woman’s pistol from her hand and dancing out of her reach as he disarmed the weapon. “I’d never hit a woman,” Jonathan said. “But for you, I’ll make an exception.”
“Idiot blowhard,” Pride growled, snapping her whip and wrapping the leather cable around Jonathan’s right wrist. She gave the whip a yank, dragging Jonathan off-balance, but before she could capitalize on the opening, Hawlucha Man blew by the star-spangled hero. He dropped into a crouch and swept Pride’s legs out from underneath her with a spinning kick. The woman rolled backwards and came up with a snarl. “You again?”
“Scared to fight me without your boss backing you up?”
“I don’t need any help kicking your insolent ass.” Pride cracked her whip. “I seem to recall you having a few more allies last time.”
“I’ve got all the help I need.”
Pride’s Pyroar yowled as George sent it flying through the air with a powerful blast of wind. Hierro squared off against one of Pride’s enforcers, ducking under his guard. The Hawlucha slammed a fiery uppercut to the center of the man’s chest before jumping back and delivering a two-footed kick to the same place. The man was lifted off his feet crashed into one of his comrades, and both of them fell to the pavement.
Hawlucha Man barked out a laugh and twirled his batons before leaping at Pride. “Not so tough now, huh?” The woman was forced onto the defensive, giving ground under Hawlucha Man’s rain of blows. One of her capos rushed to help her, but Hawlucha Man ducked under his knife and knocked him off balance. “Captain Unova!” he shouted. “Deal with him!”
Jonathan was on him in seconds, delivering a combination of punches that culminated in a roundhouse kick. The man bent double, and Jonathan grabbed his left arm, hurling him towards a charging Granbull. George screamed down from the sky, talons balled up like fists, and struck the canine with a quick one-two jab before buffeting a Scyther with his wings.
Hawlucha Man threw up his left arm and let Pride wrap her whip around his wrist. She tried to jerk him off-balance, but Hawlucha Man pulled back. Neither one had the strength to disarm the other, and they struggled in a stalemate for several seconds until Jonathan grabbed the whip and gave it a sharp yank, pulling it out of Pride’s hand.
“Thanks,” Hawlucha Man said as he shook out its coils. “Took a bit of a gamble there.”
“Don’t mention it!”
“We’re not out of the woods yet! Wrath’s goons, eight o’clock!”
“Leave it to me.” Jonathan whistled to George and sprinted towards the anarchists emerging from the smoldering building. By now, he and Hawlucha Man had managed to incapacitate or knock out about eight of Pride’s fifteen capos, and it seemed that Wrath had only brought five to reinforce them. Knives flashed in the streetlights as the anarchists braced for a fight, but Captain Unova didn’t falter. Without breaking his momentum, he drove his fist into the jaw of one of the men, knocking him flat before he could even summon a pokemon.
George swooped to his partner’s defense, tackling a Talonflame out of the air and hurling it into a Weezing. Jonathan jumped up for a spinning aerial kick that dropped a second man. A third rushed in, his knife poised to strike at Jonathan’s chest. Captain Unova moved on instinct, sliding his weight back and out of the way before grabbing the man’s wrist and applying pressure. When he dropped the blade, Jonathan drove his fist into the man’s kidneys and knocked the wind from his lungs. In his peripheral vision, he saw Hawlucha Man’s partner diving towards him. He shifted his weight and shoved the man to the side. “He’s all yours!”
Hierro descended in a flurry of claws and talons, striking the man from above before he could recover. Pride’s remaining men had rallied around her, forcing Hawlucha Man to retreat. He fell back to Captain Unova, his breathing labored. “I may have overestimated myself here,” he panted. “They’re tougher than I thought.”
Jonathan cracked his knuckles. “Between the two of us, I think we can take ‘em.”
“Yeah?” Hawlucha Man took a deep breath and settled into a fighting crouch. “Well, maybe we can.” He cast a glance over his shoulder. “Y’know, some of those combos looked familiar. You a Brycen fan?”
Jonathan beamed. “You recognized them?”
“Brycen’s my hometown hero! I grew up on his movies, and I know all his moves!”
“See the man on the right there?” Jonathan said. “When I give the signal, go for something like Liepard Stalks in Snow. I’ll take the guy on the other side with a Servine Creeps Downward. We’ll meet in the middle and go for Pride with a Two Arcanine Subdue Druddigon.”
“I like the way you think.” Hawlucha Man motioned to his partner. “Liepard Stalks in Snow, on his mark.”
Jonathan watched as the Sins’ forces closed in. “Okay, now!” Hawlucha Man and Hierro took off at a sprint, veering right while Jonathan ducked left. He extended his right hand, and George swooped down with one talon extended. He seized Jonathan’s arm and hauled him up into the air, above the chaos on the ground.
Hawlucha Man and his partner closed in on their mark, feinting left, then right, then left again. As the man tried to track their movements, Hawlucha Man leapt at him and delivered an open-handed strike to the man’s chin and followed up with a kick to throw the man back into his comrades’ arms. Hierro vaulted over his partner’s back to strike the man’s Magneton, causing it to discharge its electricity into Pride’s ranks. Jonathan was now over his target, and he dropped out of the sky and onto the capo’s shoulders, tightening his thighs around the man’s neck while the man scrabbled uselessly at his legs. Jonathan boxed the man’s temples, and he crumpled as the next man in the formation brought his gun to bear. Before he could fire off a shot, Jonathan had disarmed him and bludgeoned him with his gun.
George dropped out of the sky as Pride’s Seviper lunged at Jonathan. The Braviary seized the poison type just behind its head, rendering the serpent’s fangs useless. Its tail lashed back and forth, but George soared back up into the air, looping and diving to disorient the poison type before going into a final loop and dropping the Seviper at the peak of his arc.
Jonathan and Hawlucha Man raced towards Pride, but a hulking enforcer stood in their way. “Pansage Conquers Heaven!” Hawlucha Man barked. He and Jonathan both dropped their weight before springing up with a double uppercut, striking the man’s chin simultaneously and causing his head to snap backwards.
“Dragonair Encircles the Mountain!” Jonathan said, and slid his knee behind the man’s leg. Hawlucha Man did the same on the other side, and together they jerked their feet back, sending the man crashing down on his rump. A Scyther sprang at them, only to be grabbed from behind by Hierro and flung back. The Hawlucha whirled in midair and ignited his fists, descending with a powerful punch that surrounded the Scyther in a brief nimbus of flames. “Beartic Catches Cloud!” Jonathan said with a laugh. “With a twist!”
Hawlucha Man grinned. “He watched the movies with me.”
Before they could rush at Pride, an Incineroar tackled Hawlucha Man to the ground. “You again!” someone snarled from behind them.
Hierro shrieked in anger and leapt at the fire type pinning his partner. A flying kick to the feline’s chest forced it into a retreat, but before Hawlucha Man could get back on his feet, one of Wrath’s anarchists knocked Jonathan to his knees.
“Cap!” Alex snapped as he jumped up and disarmed another of Pride’s capos. “Aipom Takes Peach!” Jonathan smirked and drove his right fist up into the anarchist’s groin, buying Jonathan enough time to get back on his feet.
Hawlucha Man whirled as Wrath emerged from the bombed-out building. “How’s that leg doing?” he called.
Wrath snarled, nearly foaming at the mouth. “I’ll kill you, you damned pest!” He raised a plastic remote, and as soon as Jonathan saw Wrath’s hand move, he whistled. George swooped down and snatched the device from Wrath’s grip, depositing in on a gargoyle several stories above street level.
“I have a plan,” Hawlucha Man hissed as the Sins closed in. “You remember the end of Attack of the Dragon Clan?”
“Where Brycen and Mikiko did the—”
“Yeah, and then with the—”
“And finished them off with the, you know—”
“Exactly!”
“That might actually work!”
“All right. You go low, I’ll go high.”
Jonathan dropped low with a sweeping kick while Hawlucha Man vaulted over his back, slamming his batons down on the shoulders of the closest man. Jonathan rose with an uppercut, sending one of Wrath’s anarchists crashing to the ground and clutching his jaw. Hawlucha Man twirled with a series of spinning kicks as he tried to break through to Richelieu, so Jonathan turned his attention on Aukai.
“Go for his right leg!” Hawlucha Man called over his shoulder. “Last time we fought, we got him there, and it hasn’t had time to heal!”
Jonathan moved in, only for Wrath’s Incineroar to jump at him. Hierro dove and grappled the fire type to the ground. Black and crimson flames erupted from the Incineroar’s claws, and Hierro struck his talons together like flints to ignite his own claws. Small explosions erupted from their fists as they clashed. Hierro’s leaps and agile maneuvers checked the Incineroar’s greater size and reach as the Hawlucha bounded into and out of range faster than the fire type could respond. Their fiery fists cast strange shadows as they battled back and forth.
Hawlucha Man let out a cry of dismay as two of Pride’s grunts closed on him and knocked him to the street. Richelieu stalked towards him, her Seviper poised to strike. “Got you now, pest,” the woman hissed as she reached out to take a gun from one of her subordinates.
Jonathan cursed under his breath. “George! It’s time!” He turned his back on Wrath’s men and thrust his arms out in front of him, his fists closed. George stooped out of a dive, driving his wings down like Jonathan’s fists, then swerving in the air as Jonathan whipped his hands into a sloping diagonal line. Finally, he moved his arms to form two parallel lines across his body. Power surged in his veins, and the light from the streetlamps seemed to grow brighter as he took off at a sprint, a wordless battle cry tearing from his throat. He rammed through Pride’s remaining enforcers with a full-tilt, full-body tackle, and used the momentum to leap up into a spinning kick that took out both of the grunts holding Hawlucha Man.
Wrath recoiled. “Those moves look like… no! That’s not possible!”
Captain Unova seized the gun in Pride’s hands and discharged a shot into the pavement before ejecting the magazine. He stood in front of Hawlucha Man and spread his arms akimbo as George dropped out of the sky and grasped him beneath the shoulders and hauled him up into the air. The Braviary turned three times counterclockwise as they ascended, the sounds of gunfire echoing behind them. When they had ascended to the proper height, George let Jonathan go, and he plummeted towards the ground.
Pride’s Seviper lunged as he fell, and Captain Unova drove his fist into the serpent’s face, knocking it back down just as he landed. The force of his impact splintered the asphalt and knocked Pride’s enforcers from their feet, sending several tumbling head over heels.
Pride had fallen to her knees, and Hawlucha Man had regained his feet and his batons. He pressed one to the back of the woman’s head, his hand on the button to activate the electric pulse. The winged hero glanced at Captain Unova as the star spangled fighter stood up and dusted off his costume. “That wasn’t a Brycen move.”
“No, but I thought it was time to lay my cards on the table.” Jonathan took a deep breath and steeled his nerve. The fight wasn’t over yet, and he had just enough left in him for one more. “My grandfather was stationed in Alola back in the war. The locals taught him a few tricks, and those secrets have been passed down my family for generations.”
Wrath shoved through his men. “You don’t deserve those moves!” he spat. “The kahunas denied me my culture, my heritage! So why does a thieving Unovan like you get to use them?!”
Jonathan took another breath. “Hawlucha Man, stand back. I’m going to finish this.”
“By yourself?”
“Not exactly. George!” His Braviary swooped once more, and the streetlights grew in intensity for a third time. Jonathan adjusted his stance and threw a quick series of jabs in front of him, drawing on the last of his power. His muscles tensed and he sprang forward as the Sins’ men bore down on him. With a single punch, he lifted one man off his feet and flung him backwards towards the smoking building, and sent another woman airborne with his other hand. He put his weight on his back foot and pivoted, lashing out with a kick that hit one man and sent him flying back into a leaping Mightyena and a Typhlosion, taking all three out of the fight. Two more punches took out a Mienshao and a Drapion, and then the final grunt was in front of Jonathan, a towering brute of a man that was at least six and half feet tall and nearly as wide, all of it wrapped up in corded muscle. He drew his fist back and launched it at Jonathan’s face, and Jonathan seemed to watch it in slow motion.
Jonathan settled into his stance and brought his hand back. Time for a finishing move, the kind of thing that got a two-page spread in his kids’ comic books. “SKYARROW!” The man’s strike came in, but Jonathan was faster, and slammed his fist into the larger man’s. “SMASH!!”
He heard the bones in the brute’s hand splinter and crack, and watched as the force of the blow travelled up the man’s arm, shattering every bone all the way to the shoulder. The power of Jonathan’s punch exploded outwards in a shockwave that launched the man backwards. Wrath ducked under his subordinate’s unconscious form and darted forward with a knife. “Those moves aren’t yours, Unovan! They belong to me!”
Jonathan moved with superhuman speed, twisting around Wrath’s strike and grabbing his wrist. “Do you know what makes Unova so great? The thing that makes up the bedrock of the region?” He squeezed, making Aukai gasp in pain. “It’s built by people from all over the world who came together and decided to make something more than themselves. Everyone who comes to Unova pours of themselves into it, right into the very foundation. Those Unovans of old decided that culture is better when it’s shared, rather than walled off and kept in boxes. Unova is a tapestry that the entire world wove together, in an effort to create something so much better than the sum of its parts.” Jonathan felt the power within him waning, and knew he didn’t have long. “I came to Clarus City because I saw the same potential here. The tapestry isn’t finished yet, and I’ll be damned if I let you unravel it!”
He pivoted and threw Aukai forward, forcing the anarchist to land on his injured knee. “Unova is in my blood, but Clarus City is my home!” Jonathan clenched his fist and swung out with a punch. Aukai winced and closed his eyes, waiting for a blow that never came. There was a pop as air rushed into the space Aukai had occupied only a second before. Richelieu vanished in a second pop, followed by Wrath’s Incineroar and Pride’s downed pokemon. Hawlucha Man whipped around to see what had teleported the Sins away. A Gothorita pirouetted in the center of the carnage once before winking out of existence.
“Dominion,” Hawlucha Man hissed as the CCPD rushed in from their defensive perimeter to apprehend the downed Sin enforcers. Jonathan sagged as the last of his power burnt out, and Hierro appeared by his side to help him up. George fluttered down, cooing deep in his throat as he tried to take stock of his trainer.
Jonathan reached out and smoothed his partner’s feathers. “I’m okay. Just overdid it a little.”
Hawlucha Man helped him to his feet. “I think you’re done for the night, Cap. We’ll leave the cleanup to the police. Got any place safe you can go?”
“My office. It’s only a few blocks away.” Jonathan started to rest his weight against Hawlucha Man, only for the younger hero to wince in pain. “Oh, sorry!”
“It’s okay. I’ve had worse.”
They limped into an alley, and Jonathan shook his head. “You don’t need to do the stiff upper lip thing with me. If you don’t take care of yourself, you’ll pay the price down the line. I’ve got a first aid kit in my desk; we’ll get you patched up there.” Hawlucha Man started to protest, but after a stern glance from Hierro, the younger hero just nodded instead. Jonathan turned to George. “You scout ahead. We’re going to slip in through the parking garage. If there’s anyone around, I need you to make a distraction.” The Braviary bobbed his head in a nod and shot off into the sky.
Hawlucha Man glanced at Hierro. “Watch our backs, buddy.”
As they picked their way through the access roads and alleys between the downtown skyscrapers, Jonathan probed his side. He’d have a bit of a bruise in the morning, but nothing he couldn’t hide. It looked like Hawlucha Man had taken the heavier blows. He hid it well, but Jonathan could tell he was hurting. While they paused in an alcove as a police patrol screamed by, Jonathan turned to his companion. “You usually cover Avenbrooke, right? Downtown Clarus is a little far from your usual beat. What are you doing in my neck of the woods?”
Hawlucha Man studied Jonathan’s face for a moment before replying. “Have you heard from Sasaki recently?”
“Nope. Haven’t really run into any other heroes since Nimbus Tower.”
“So you’re out of the loop, huh? Okay, let’s see if I can bring you up to speed. Oh, hang on! Let’s go!” They crossed a small square, empty except for a few homeless tramps camped out on benches. When they were in the next back street, Hawlucha Man held up a hand while he probed his ribs. With a hiss of pain, he straightened and motioned for Jonathan to continue on. “I’ve been doing some work for Jiro lately. Like, legit daytime work for Sasaki Industries. So I’m in midtown during the day.
“I’ve also managed to establish contact with a highly-placed mole in the Sins’ organization, and he’s feeding us intel on their operations. I pass that along to Jiro, and he lets the other heroes know so we can put a stop to it. I got word that Pride and Wrath were planning something tonight, so Hierro and I staked it out, figuring it was something we could nip in the bud.” His Hawlucha glanced up at him and huffed out a breath. “Yeah, we definitely underestimated what we were up against. This isn’t the first time we’ve gotten in over our heads. If you hadn’t shown up, we would have been totally screwed.”
“Like I told you, that’s what heroes do.”
Hawlucha Man smiled. “You’re all right, Captain Unova.”
“Thanks!”
“A bit of a blowhard, but you’re all right.”
“Hey!”
When they reached the entrance to the underground parking structure, Jonathan returned George to his pokeball and led Alex into the subterranean complex. Hierro bristled as they descended, but Jonathan only took them one level down, where they took an elevator up the skyscraper to Jonathan’s firm. He unlocked the door to the law offices of Avery, Smith, & Wesson and motioned Hawlucha Man through. When they reached his personal office, Jonathan removed his helmet and fetched the first aid kit from the bottom drawer of his desk. Jonathan gestured with his chin to a small coat closet on the opposite wall. “I keep some gym clothes in there. Help yourself to whatever you need.” When Hawlucha Man started to protest and say that he needed to go back out on patrol, Jonathan shook his head. “You’re at least as exhausted as I am, and in no shape to do any more fighting or acrobatics tonight. Besides, it will be easier to patch you up if you aren’t in that onesie. You can’t take care of Clarus City if you aren’t taking care of your own well-being.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Hawlucha Man quickly stripped out of his costume and pulled on a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants emblazoned with the crest of Castelia University’s law school. Jonathan couldn’t help but stare at the mostly-faded patchwork of bruises on Hawlucha Man’s torso as he pulled the sweatshirt on. “Doesn’t that hurt like hell?” He set a bottle of rubbing alcohol, some cotton swabs, and a hot patch on his desk.
Hawlucha Man shrugged. “You get used to it.” He picked up the hot compress and affixed it under his shirt with a hiss. “The suit protects me from the worst damage, but it doesn’t stop blunt force trauma. What do you use?”
“Kevlar, mostly.”
“Nice. Jiro made the new suit with carbon nanofibers They’re damn impressive, but they don’t do much to stop impact damage. Still, it’s better than the nylon and padding I used to use.”
“Just nylon? Seriously?”
“Had to keep the suit lightweight, or I couldn’t fly.”
Jonathan whistled through his teeth. “You’re one crazy bastard.” He sank into his leather swivel chair with a groan while Hawlucha Man and his partner sat in the two chairs opposite the desk and started rubbing the cramps out of their muscles. Jonathan reached for the other items in his bottom drawer. He set the bottle of scotch and two glasses on the desk and poured himself a generous measure before glancing at Hawlucha Man. “Don’t let the other senior partners know I’ve got this. It’s against company policy.”
Hawlucha Man laughed. “I think your secret is safe with me!”
“Care for a drink?”
“Well, you did say I should call it a night. Why not?”
Jonathan poured Hawlucha Man two fingers of scotch and passed a bag of dried fruit across the desk to Hierro. The Hawlucha seized a handful and happily munched away while Jonathan and Hawlucha Man drank in silence for a moment. Finally, Jonathan set his glass back on the desk. “Do we know what the Sins were after?”
“The target was a package of documents. To the best of my source’s knowledge, the dossier has information on the tests the government performed on Dominion years ago before the esper program shut down. Wrath’s guys were going to take whatever else they could get their hands on to muddy the waters, but I already passed my intel along to the police.” Hawlucha Man shrugged. “I don’t know why Dominion wants that information, since she’s the one who lived through the tests. Our best guess is to keep it out of our hands so we can’t use it against her. Honestly, stopping the robbery wasn’t my top priority. I knew Pride and Wrath were both going to be out in the open tonight, and I thought this was going to be the best chance to take them down.”
“All by yourself? For Arceus’s sake, taking on two of the Sins on your own is virtually to suicide!”
“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve gone toe-to-toe with two of them at once. Besides, I needed to keep my knowledge of the operation quiet. If I tried to contact the other heroes or the police for backup, word could have gotten back to Pride that I knew what they were planning. I thought Hierro and I could handle it.”
Jonathan scowled and plucked a business card from a stand on his desk. He flipped it over, scribbled a phone number on the back, and held it out to Hawlucha Man. “Take this. It’s got my office line, and I just gave you my personal cell number. If you’re ever in a situation like this again, I want you to call me in for backup. With George, I can be anywhere in the city in a flash. We Unovans have to stick together.”
“I… thanks.” Hawlucha Man glanced down at the business card. The rich cardstock was embossed with thick letters in gilt ink, and read “J. Q. Publick - Attorney at Law, Avery, Smith & Wesson, LLP” followed by a phone number and extension. Hawlucha Man glanced up at the law diploma from Castelia University hanging on the wall and then back to Jonathan. “Wait a minute. Your name is John Q. Publick?”
“I’ve gone by Jonathan since I was a teenager. But technically yes.”
“And you’ve got the whole Unovan stars and stripes thing going on.”
Jonathan spread his hands. “Yes, that’s pretty self-evident.”
“And your name… your literal, actual legal name, is John Q. Publick.”
“Yes…?”
“Arceus, really?” Hawlucha Man scoffed and raised an eyebrow at Jonathan’s blank expression. “Wait. You really don’t see it?”
“See what?”
“Uh, you know what? Never mind. Forget I said anything.”
Jonathan shrugged and stretched in his chair. “I think the excitement from earlier starting to catch up to me. I’m going to head home before I crash at my desk again. Let me call you a car to bring you home.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that!”
But Jonathan had already picked up his phone and dialed. “Really, it’s no trouble. It’s a long road back to Avenbrooke, and at this time of night the subways have stopped running. Not that I’d make you take the train anyway. The firm keeps a car service on retainer for when we work late nights, and they operate twenty four hours a day. We’ll just say you’re a paralegal who stayed late, and you can go home and get some sleep.”
“Thanks, Cap.”
Jonathan ordered the car, and was told that it would arrive in just a few minutes. Hawlucha Man gathered up his costume, and Jonathan gave him an opaque shopping bag to keep it in for the ride home. He walked Hawlucha Man down to the building lobby, and they saw the hired car idling outside. Jonathan stuck out his hand. “A pleasure working with you, Hawlucha Man.”
“You too, Cap.”
“Until next time, then?”
“Count on it. Next time I need to bring the fight to the Sins, I’ll let you know.” He walked towards the door of the building, but before he stepped outside, he turned back to Jonathan and struck the iconic Brycen pose, back ramrod straight, arms outstretched and with one leg bent at a ninety degree angle.
Jonathan immediately mimicked the pose, and the two heroes shared a laugh before Hawlucha Man and Hierro stepped out into the night, got in the car, and drove away.
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girl-like-substance
the seal will bite you if you give him half a chance
Posts: 527
Pronouns: xe/xem
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Post by girl-like-substance on Jan 13, 2019 20:12:23 GMT
Another side chapter; these are always fun, when we take a break from watching Alex beat the crap out of seventeen dudes, five bisharp and a gurdurr to see how someone else uses pokémon and basic engineering skills to enact vigilante justice. It's good too to see how integrated Hawlucha Man is into the superhero scene; I get the impression that Captain Unova is so sportsmanlike that he's willing to team up with literally anybody, so maybe that's not such a reliable indicator, but like, the crowd recognise Hawlucha Man and listen to him. That's kind of cool. But this isn't about Hawlucha Man, it's about Captain Unova, and he's … kind of a dork. His one-liners are atrocious, his moves copied from action movies; it's hard not to agree with Pride when she just responds by calling him an idiot. One thing I appreciate about the array of heroes in this story is that they don't just have distinct brands and fighting styles, but they all come at the whole superhero thing from different angles. Vengeful aristocrats, regretful ex-cops, self-aggrandising corporate heads – and this guy, who you kinda feel is just doing this because he's nice and it's the Right Thing To Do. But you know, he gets to bend the laws of reality with his punches the same as anyone else, while delivering a hundred-and-thirty-word speech about how the core principles of America Unova make its people strong and give him the strength to continue fighting and all that. Anyway, in the end, Alex probably says it best: While I'm at it, I caught a few typos:
You've got an extra E in 'carabiner' here. There's something missing between 'feet' and 'crashed' here. Missing a full stop here. |
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Post by Firebrand on Jan 19, 2019 15:36:16 GMT
Chapter 23
Gwen Culain rotated her shoulders back and felt the muscles strain and pop. She let out a low groan of satisfaction as she turned her torso from side to side and massaged her legs. Sitting on a tiny stool in a cramped storage unit all night was boring work, but it paid well. She had enough professional pride not to drink on the job, but workers in any industry were entitled to a cigarette break, so she felt no guilt stepping out into the cool night air to light up. The briny scent of the nearby Ridgewood docks flavored the air, and Gwen heard a sleepy Wingull cry out to its companions in the darkness.
She leaned against the aluminum siding of the storage pod and flicked her lighter, taking a long drag of the acrid smoke and holding it in her lungs for a moment before exhaling. This sort of protection work was about all she could get lately after she had cut her professional ties with the Sins and the Kuromori. She would never be the sort of moral paragon that her parents were, but she figured it was about damn time she found a little integrity and stuck to only hurting the people who deserved it. That said, she didn’t delude herself into thinking she was some kind of hero; she didn’t work pro bono.
One of Gluttony’s stooges had come sniffing around to try and talk her back into a contract, and he didn’t seem keen on taking no for an answer. Gwen had quite literally kicked him to the curb with a black eye and a bruised rib, and that had been the end of that.
On the bright side, with the Sins getting bolder, a lot of wealthy assholes were getting nervous about their junk and needed someone who could help them with their peace of mind. Gwen’s rates and schedule were flexible enough to make her an attractive option, and she had a good reputation for quality service, so enough protection work had been coming her way to keep her bills paid and her whiskey stocked.
Tonight some inventor and entrepreneur had contracted her to stand watch over some of his prototypes. He had explained to Gwen that they were some kind of cutting-edge medical tech that could revolutionize the way pokemon centers worked and increase the efficiency of treatment by an order of magnitude and Gwen had tuned the rest out when it devolved into technobabble mixed with marketing jargon. The contract was simple enough, just stand guard at the storage unit until morning, and a truck would come by to load it up and get it the hell out of Clarus.
Apparently, her employer feared that the Sins would get wind of his prototypes and steal them for their own use, so he was getting them out of the city and to a safe location. The storage unit was just a waypoint to keep them out of the lab they were known to be in. Gwen felt this was a little overly paranoid, since the Sins had shown little to no interest in tech, let alone medical tech, but the guy’s money was good, and this sort of job was becoming increasingly common lately. People were afraid that the big mean criminals were going to take their crap, so the people who were rich enough to send it elsewhere were doing so, and the people who weren’t were willing to pay Gwen to keep it safe for eight hour increments.
It wasn’t glamorous work, but it kept Maximus fed.
And by Arceus, Maximus could eat.
She palmed her Aggron’s pokeball. She’d have to let the big lug out for his nightly stretch pretty soon, but she wanted to savor a little alone time first. Just until the end of the cigarette…
She had just taken another drag when something clattered in the darkness to her right. Gwen raised her metal baseball bat and peered out, figuring it was probably just a Rattata going through the garbage or a feral ghost type making mischief. But the shape moving in the darkness was much too big for a Rattata, and Gwen knew it was time to earn her keep. She let the last of the cigarette fall from her fingers, and she covered the embers with her boot, making sure to muffle the crunch of gravel underfoot as best she could.
When the shape moved slightly, Gwen raised the bat with her right hand as her left unclipped the flashlight from her belt. She swung around and clicked the light on, hoping that if it was just a pokemon, the sudden flash would spook it and she could go back to her break.
The Shadow froze as the beam of light hit her, and over her shoulder, her Haunter shielded its eyes from the glare. “What the hell are you doing here?” Gwen snapped, and the Shadow put a finger to her lips. Gwen realized that the girl’s face was pale with fear, and she was clearly agitated about something. When she opened her mouth to speak again, the Shadow hissed her into silence.
“Be quiet! It’s not safe here!”
Gwen grabbed the thief’s shoulder and hauled her back into the storage unit. She carefully eased the hanging metal door closed and whirled on the Shadow. “Explain.”
The thief sank down onto Gwen’s stool as her Haunter phased through the wall. When she had collected herself, she looked up at Gwen. “So I heard the Baron has a cache of stuff in this facility, and I wanted to scope it out.”
“Don’t you work for the Baron?”
“Yeah, sometimes.” Before Gwen could make a sarcastic comment about honor among thieves, the Shadow shook her head. “That’s not important! We need to get out of here.”
“I’m working a contract. If I don’t stay until morning, I don’t get paid.”
“You can’t get paid if you’re dead!”
“What?”
“The Sins and the Kuromori are here.”
“What?!”
The Shadow let out a shaky breath. “Yeah. I didn’t stick around to get the details, but I saw them near the center of the facility. The Kuromori are here with Saito, Sukiyama, and Tarou, and I saw Pride, Gluttony… and the new boss. The esper.” The Shadow gulped. “And they all both brought big entourages. I’ve been trying to slip through the perimeter, but it hasn’t been easy.”
“They must be making some kind of deal.” Gwen shook her head. Up until now, the western edge of Clarus City had enjoyed an uneasy truce between the Sins and the Kuromori. The Kuromori had made it clear that they had no intention of being subsumed into the Sins’ organization, and after a few early skirmishes, the Sins had been content to leave them alone. A united front between the two enterprises could spell disaster for the civilians of Clarus City. But then, so could a war. “Take me to them.”
“Are you suicidal?” the Shadow cried.
“Someone has to put a stop to this,” Gwen replied. “And we’re the only two people here.”
“You’re insane!”
Gwen shrugged. She wasn’t doing this out of the goodness of her heart. The cops had posted a very generous reward for information leading to the capture of the Sins’ top brass. But to claim the money, the information had to be rock solid. Getting close enough to hear the big boss’s plans was certain to get her a cut.
The Shadow continued to protest, but Gwen was adamant. Finally, the thief relented and agreed to lead her back to where the meeting was being held. “But we’re just going to look. If it looks like a fight, I’m running.”
The Shadow was good. She kept them in the darkness, and well away from the patrols of the crime bosses. As they drew nearer to the center plaza of the storage yard, Gwen saw that someone had rigged up portable floodlights, bathing the courtyard in harsh white light. Shadows danced on the walls of the storage units lining the even byways through the units, and the Shadow hastened Gwen onward. They drew even with a pickup truck parked alongside one of the units, and the Shadow motioned for them to climb up onto it, and then onto the roof of the unit.
They crawled on their bellies along the gently sloping roof, right to the edge of the plaza. Gwen hissed in a breath as she studied the faces laid out below her. The Shadow had been right; Pride, Gluttony, and the esper known as Dominion stood just before them, flanked by their lackeys. A Gothorita swayed from side to side behind the esper. Across the plaza, Saito Kuromori, the patriarch of the ninja clan, stood with his brother Sukiyama and his son Tarou. A Bisharp crouched in front of him, idly flexing the blades on its wrist. The masked form of the Vixen crouched in the shadows some ways off, and Gwen could make out the indistinct shapes of other Kuromori assassins in the alleyways.
“I explained this to your predecessor several times,” Saito was saying. “The terms the Sins offer to join our might with theirs are simply not good enough. My clan was exiled from Johto because we dared assert our independence. For generations, we have maintained that same independence and autonomy here in Clarus City, and I am not about to bend my knee to some new tyrant that offers me nothing more than table scraps. Ms. Richelieu, Frau Mueller, surely you’ve explained this to Miss…. ah, Miss…”
“Dominion,” the esper said, in a high, piping voice. Not exactly what Gwen would have expected from the person who singlehandedly turned the Clarus underworld on its head, but then, who was she to judge? New clients usually thought the Iron Maiden of Clarus would be taller. “Saito, dear, what you don’t seem to understand is that I am offering you the same terms Mr. Braun did as a sign of respect. The state of things in Clarus City is very different from the last time the Sins extended you an olive branch.” She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and raised one elegantly manicured hand to tap her index finger against her temple. “You see, if the urge struck me, I could order you to get down on your knees, lick my stilettos, and beg to join me. If any of your men tried to stop me, I would tell them to drive their knife into their gut, and they would thank me for the privilege.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Tarou snapped.
“Well,” Dominion said with a casual wave of her hand. “I wouldn’t like to. In a negotiation like this, it seems a little gauche. I was so hoping we could come to an agreement.” Gwen could hear the pout Dominion put in her voice, and it made her skin crawl.
“You psychic bitch!” Tarou growled. “I’ll rip your—”
“Oh, do shut up.” Tarou’s mouth snapped shut, and his eyes bulged out as he tried to force his mouth open, but his body rebelled. “Now Suki, darling, why don’t you keep your nephew under control while we grownups have a chat.” Sukiyama’s stoic visage cracked as his right hand moved of its own volition under his suit jacket and drew out a long, slender knife that he laid against Tarou’s throat.
“Holy shit,” Gwen whispered.
Dominion turned back to Saito. “Do you need a further demonstration? If you’d like, I can have half your men line up in front of you and take their own lives. Or hell, why not all of them?” A dangerous edge crept into her voice. “Yes, why not all of them?” The esper swept forward, spreading her hands in front of her. “Tell you what, Saito. Here are the new terms. Either you join me right now, or I wipe out the Kuromori tonight in one fell swoop. I’ll make the whole clan commit seppuku right in front of you, and then once every single one of your assassins are lying dead your feet, I’ll make you take your own life.” She laid a hand on Saito’s cheek. “How does that sound?”
“You’re a monster,” Saito hissed. He glanced over Dominion’s shoulder at Pride. “Julia. We’ve had our differences in the past, but you must know that I’ve always respected you.” He locked eyes with Dominion. “So I can’t fathom why you would cast your lot with an abomination like this.”
Pride’s right hand twitched at her side, but she stiffened and continued staring straight ahead. Dominion’s shoulders trembled with barely suppressed laughter, and she patted Saito’s face again. “So you want to do this the hard way, Saito?”
Gwen shifted her weight, and her metal bat clanged against the aluminum roof of the storage pod. The Shadow whipped her head around to the mercenary, her eyes wide with incredulity. Gwen sucked in a breath. “Fuck.” Two of the Sins’ grunts turned the floodlights towards the source of the sound, and Gwen had to squint against the sudden light. “Fuck,” she groaned again, louder this time. Then she jumped to her feet and whipped her bat around. She leapt from the rooftop and plunged towards the plaza, her left hand hurling Maximus’s pokeball. “Come on out, big guy!”
The first salvo of bullets pinged harmlessly against the Aggron’s armored hide, and the steel type threw back his crested head and roared. His tail lashed back and forth, throwing Sin enforcers and Kuromori assassins through the air, and Gwen swung herself up onto her partner’s shoulder. “Give ‘em hell, Maximus!”
The Shadow’s Haunter strafed the ground with a salvo of spectral fire as the Shadow jumped after Gwen, landing on Maximus’s other side and swinging up to his other shoulder. “What happened to running away?” Gwen asked.
“I was screwed one way or the other. I figured I might as well go down swinging.”
A few enterprising Kuromori tried to use the confusion to attack Dominion. They leapt at her, knives drawn, only to be shoved aside by an invisible force with a contemptuous flick of the esper’s wrist. They drove their own knives into their chests and collapsed on the ground. Their pokemon cried out as their human partners fell, only to be laid low by a crackling field of purple energy generated by the esper’s Gothorita.
Saito’s Bisharp was joined by Sukiyama’s Crobat and Tarou’s Machamp as it grappled with Pride’s Pyroar and Gluttony’s Hippowdon and Honchkrow. Gluttony barked orders to her men to focus on the Kuromori, only to throw herself to the ground as Maximus lifted her Hippowdon and hurled it through the air. The ground type crashed against the side of a storage pod, making half of the structure collapse.
Gwen jumped off Maximus’s back and shoved her way through the crowd. She’d seen the kind of money the police were willing to front for information on Dominion. But if she knocked the esper out and dragged her to a police station, that kind of payday would probably set her up for life. “Culain!” Tarou snarled as reached out to snatch her elbow.
“Hey Tarou,” Gwen said. She ducked as Maximus’s tail whipped by overhead, catching the heir of the Kuromori clan in the chest and hurling him away. “Bye Tarou!”
The Vixen moved through the press, Sin enforcers dropping with each stroke of her flashing knives. Her Ninetales crouched at her heels, fire pooling in its jaws as they raced towards Pride. The Shadow and her Haunter clung to Maximus’s hulking form as the steel type cleared a space in the center of the melee. Gwen counted herself lucky that the Sins and Kuromori were content to kill each other, because if they had turned on her, no amount of combat training would save her from a very painful death.
“Stop!” Dominion screamed. The chaos suddenly halted as every combatant froze in place. All around Gwen, Sin enforcers and Kuromori assassins stood locked in place, their muscles straining as their eyes darted from side to side. Their pokemon snarled low in their throats, incapable of opening their mouths. Gwen shook her head and took a step back.
And then realized that she had taken a step back.
She could move.
She could feel a grin spreading across her face as she stalked through the crowd of motionless bodies. Gwen could see the frozen fighters’ eyes flicking towards her as she broke into a run, dodging and weaving through a forest of petrified forms. Her footsteps echoed in the sudden silence, and Dominion looked up as Gwen charged her. “What? I told you to stop!”
“Here’s the thing, bitch,” Gwen growled. “I don’t take orders from anyone unless I’m getting paid.”
“Stop!” Dominion shrieked. “Freeze! Stop it!”
But Gwen kept coming. She drew her right fist back. “Shut…” She lashed out with a punch that struck across Dominion’s cheek. “The fuck…” She followed up her first punch with a left-handed uppercut to the esper’s abdomen, making the woman double over. “UP!” And then Gwen delivered a killer right hook that sent Dominion staggering backward.
As she backpedaled, she placed her weight onto the heel of one of her stilettos, and the shoe snapped, sending her tumbling to the ground. The abrupt bump, coupled with the shock of Gwen’s trifecta of punches, was enough to break Dominion’s hold over the combatants and the lot erupted back into motion.
Dominion’s Gothorita was instantly at the esper’s side, and the two of them vanished with a crack and a flash of purple light. Warring cries of “Fall back!” and “Press on!” came from both Sin and Kuromori forces, only serving to add to the confusion. Richelieu and Mueller both shouted commands that drowned out by their enforcers and capos, while Saito Kuromori bellowed for order.
Gwen figured it was probably time to bow out.
She sprinted back towards Maximus and jumped up onto his back. “All right, big guy. Let’s get out of here.”
The Shadow glanced over. “What’s the plan?”
Gwen pointed. “Maximus is going to go that way.”
“That’s it? That’s your plan?”
“You ever try to stop charging Aggron?”
Maximus lowered his horned skull and began to plod forward. While he was by no means fast, the steel type slowly built momentum. The warring criminals were too busy with their own fighting to pay much mind to Maximus, except to get out of the way as he barreled by. Just after they cleared the conflict, the Aggron managed to build up enough speed to charge clear through a storage pod, and then another, and then another. The scraps of broken furniture and crushed luggage littered the ground behind them.
The Shadow glanced back and shrugged. “As far as escape plans go… this isn’t bad.”
Gwen smirked. “I figure they would be too busy trying to kill each other that they would leave us alone long enough to get clear.”
“I’m surprised they did, considering you just punched out the top crime lord in Clarus City.”
“Right? The Kuromori better send me flowers.”
“You aren’t worried that the Sins are going to come after you?”
“I’ll admit, the thought crossed my mind. I’ll figure out how to deal with that later.” Gwen patted Maximus’s steel plating. “This won’t be the first tough situation the big guy and I have gotten out of.”
The Shadow winced as Maximus tore through another storage pod. “When Dominion froze us, I thought we were goners. How did you break free?”
“It just didn’t work on me.”
“Like, at all?”
“Nope.”
“How?”
Gwen shrugged. “Hell if I know. Probably I’m just too much of a stubborn asshole.”
The Shadow fell silent as Maximus continued to lumber forward. Gunshots could be heard ringing in the air behind them. Finally, the thief spoke again. “This is going to be really bad, isn’t it?”
“Probably.”
“Like, for everyone. If the Sins and the Kuromori go to war, Clarus City is going to get torn apart.”
Gwen pursed her lips. “Yeah, maybe. But I figure if they’re all too busy killing each other, they aren’t going to think to come after me.” She saw the Shadow glaring at her. “What? Can you blame me if I’m more concerned with saving my own skin?”
“We have to tell someone about this. Warn them, so that they know it’s coming.”
Gwen scoffed. “A gang war like this is going to be pretty hard to miss.”
“But it won’t happen right away! If we go to the heroes, they’ll have time to prepare! They can mobilize the police, prevent collateral damage—”
“The heroes? Aren’t you a crook?”
“I need to get to Hawlucha Man. I trust him… after a fashion. We have an understanding. An arrangement.”
“An arrangement, huh?” Gwen raised an eyebrow.
“I need to get to Avenbrooke.”
“Well, good luck with that.”
“Take me there.”
Gwen whirled on the thief. “Why the hell should I? I don’t owe you or this city anything.”
The Shadow glared back at her. “I’ll pay you. Your standard rate to get me across town to Hawlucha Man’s door.”
“You know where he lives, huh? Is that part of that special ‘arrangement’ you got?”
“Yeah, well, I mean… listen. This will be a hell of a lot faster if we take your motorcycle than if I try to get a cab.”
“This is going to be a damn expensive cab ride.”
“I’m paying for your protection too. Get me across town and make sure no Sin capo or Kuromori assassin kills us en route, and I’ll pay.”
Gwen muttered a curse under her breath. “Fine. You got a deal.” They had arrived at the pod of Gwen’s employer, and the Shadow dismounted from Maximus’s shoulder. “Hang on a sec,” Gwen said. She stood on her tiptoes and from her vantage point could just make out the first rays of dawn striking the top of the tallest skyscrapers in midtown. “Perfect. Let me just close out this job real quick.”
“The Sins could be on us any second!”
“I can’t leave the lot until this job is done.” Gwen pulled out her phone and dialed her employer’s number. After three rings, a sleepy voice on the other end picked up. “Hey bossman,” Gwen said in the brightest voice she could muster given the circumstances. “Your stuff is safe and ready to move out, as promised.”
“What?” her employer slurred. “What time is it?”
“It’s morning, boss. I’m looking at the sunrise right now.” Gwen opened the camera on her phone, snapped a picture of the inside of the storage pod, and sent it to her employer. “That means my contract’s done.”
“I thought you were going to wait until the truck showed up to—”
“My contract just says until morning.” When her employer started to protest, Gwen clicked her tongue. She could see the Shadow growing agitated. “Look, I made sure your product was safe through the night, and fulfilled my contract. I upheld my end of the bargain. I have other places I need to be, so now it’s time you upheld yours.”
The man on the other end of the phone grumbled, but a moment later Gwen’s phone chimed, notifying her that the second half of her payment had been wired to her account. “Thanks for choosing Aegis Security!” Gwen said, and hung up. She turned to the Shadow. “Well, that’s one client who probably won’t be using my services again.”
“There won’t be any clients using your services if we don’t get the hell out of here.”
“Fair point.” Gwen picked up a helmet from the back of her motorcycle and tossed it underhand to the Shadow. “Put that on. You’re an Aegis client now, so I have to do everything within reason to keep you safe. In the interest of saving time, I won’t even ask for half up front.” She returned Maximus, straddled her bike and waited until the Shadow had wrapped her arms around her waist. Gwen donned a pair of sunglasses, revved the engine, and grinned. “All right, let’s roll.”
They shot down the uniform rows of the storage yard, the sounds of distant fighting echoed over the roar of Gwen’s motorcycle. Gwen cursed under her breath as a Rhydon barreled out in front of them, and she had to swerve to avoid the beast’s lashing tail. The rock type bellowed as they barreled past, and its trainer fired off a few shots at their retreating back, but the bullets went wide.
Gwen swung into a wide turn as they passed the storage yard gates, and then poured on speed for the long straight-away that would take them to the expressway. The mercenary glanced into her rearview mirror and saw that several other cars were peeling out of the storage yard, and she pushed her bike as fast as it could go to outstrip them. “Hey Shadow!” she called over the roar of the engine. “I should have mentioned this up front, but if I wind up with any speeding fines for this, that’s going on your bill!”
“Shut up and drive!”
They passed under the expressway overpass and swung into a tight turn to get on the entrance ramp. This early in the morning, Gwen was pretty sure that traffic going into the city wouldn’t be that heavy. On the one hand, that meant she and the Shadow wouldn’t be held up on their way to Avenbrooke, but on the other, it meant that any pursuers would have an easy time tailing them. Gwen gritted her teeth. It was only a few miles from one end of the city to the other, which didn’t leave her much time to lose a tail and disappear, not at the speeds she was going to need to maintain.
Several large trucks were cruising down the highway as she merged, likely hoping to pass through the city early or drop off their wares before the streets got too congested. A few commuters were on the road as well, and Gwen weaved through them before angling towards the Crown Bridge. The black sedans from the storage yard shot onto the highway behind her, and Gwen swung in front of an eighteen wheeler hoping that the truck’s bulk would hide her. The driver sounded his horn in irritation, and Gwen cursed under her breath again.
The highway added a lane as they approached the bridge, but Gwen stayed in the middle. Better for maneuvering, in case she needed to avoid a pursuit. The sedans were gaining, and she guided her bike between two trucks to cover her flanks. Too late, Gwen realized she had boxed herself in, and before she could fix her error, one of the sedans drove up behind her, cutting off the option of falling back. The roar of an engine to her right presaged the appearance to a van in the lane in front of her.
The back doors flew open, revealing a bruised and battered Sukiyama and Tarou Kuromori. “Culain!” Sukiyama shouted. “What the hell happened back there? Who are you working for?”
“I’m not!” Gwen shouted back. “I don’t want anything to do with this!”
“It’s the Baron, isn’t it?” Tarou roared. “Or Petrovna, working against her boss?”
“No!” Gwen ground her teeth together in frustration. “I’m not involved, I’m not on anyone’s payroll! I just saved all of your asses! Shouldn’t you be thanking me?”
Sukiyama scowled. “We need to know how many other players are on the board, Gwendolyn.”
“I’m not on the board! By Arceus, I’m trying to take myself off the board!”
“I can’t just take you at your word,” Sukiyama replied. “I’m going to have to take you in.”
“The hell you are,” the Shadow snarled. “Alecto!” There was a flash of light as a pokeball burst open, and Gwen felt a rush of cold, heavy air as a purple shape shot by her head. The thief’s Haunter slashed at Sukiyama with claws covered in some sort of inky black chitin. When Tarou reached for his gun, the ghost type whirled on him and seemed to double in size as it summoned orbs of spectral blue-green fire. In Tarou’s haste to avoid the attack, he nearly fell out of the van. Alecto plunged deeper into the vehicle, and Gwen heard someone scream.
Presumably it was the driver, because the van suddenly veered across two lanes of traffic and smashed into the barrier in the center of the bridge.
The brakes of the truck on Gwen’s left screamed as it tried to stop before causing a further pile-up, and Gwen was forced to shoot out in front of the truck on her right as more cars veered and swerved behind and around her. The motorcycle darted through the traffic, putting distance between the two women and the remains of their Kuromori pursuers. An indigo blur swept towards them from the left, reaching out with one purple claw to seize the Shadow’s shoulder and pull itself closer.
Alecto clung to her trainer as they shot across the Crown Bridge, the sweeping lines of its suspension cables rising all around them. “That’s one way to lose a tail,” Gwen muttered.
“A little more conspicuous than I prefer,” the Shadow said. “But it worked, didn’t it?” When Gwen grunted in response, the Shadow tightened her grip around the mercenary’s waist. “So who’s protecting who here again? Does this mean I get a discount?”
“Don’t push it.”
They reached the other end of the Crown Bridge and put the West River behind them as Gwen took the exit for the subterranean tunnel that spanned the length of midtown Clarus. The fluorescent lights that lined the ceiling of the tunnel flashed by overhead as Gwen continued to weave through the other cars, flagrantly violating at least seven traffic laws. They burst back out into the early morning sunlight and started the climb up the Concord Bridge. A commuter train rattled along an elevated track that ran along the bridge’s lower level, and Gwen gunned the engine again in a juvenile impulse to race the train across the bridge’s span.
When they had crossed over into Avenbrooke, Gwen was forced to stop at a traffic light. She glanced over her shoulder. “All right, you said you know where we’re going.”
“Straight for seven blocks, then take a right.”
The Shadow was good on her word, guiding Gwen through the chaotic tangle of Avenbrooke streets. Gwen was pretty sure the thief had them cross and re-cross their route a few times, probably to throw off any tail they might have had, but they finally stopped in front of an unassuming tenement building.
The Shadow led Gwen up the front steps, and Gwen studied the door. Solid wood, but the hinges looked old. She figured that a couple well-placed kicks could probably get it off, but that might alert the other tenants and raise uncomfortable questions. Gwen glanced at the Shadow. “So how are we doing this? Are you going to pick the lock, or do you need me to break it down? That costs extra, so—”
The Shadow shot her a look and pressed one of the buttons by a speaker. “Who is it?” a voice heavily distorted by static asked.
“Open up, birdbrain. It’s me.”
A second later, the door buzzed and unlocked. The Shadow stalked up the stairs, but Gwen caught her arm. “Are you sure about this? He’s got no reason to believe us. What if he thinks this is all a ploy by, like, the Baron or whoever? Seems like you’ve worked with him a lot more than I have, but I’ve seen enough to know he’s no fool.”
The Shadow shook her head. “He’s not like that. He’ll believe me. He knows I’ve got no reason to lie about something like this.” She shrugged. “Besides, he may be clever, but his mind doesn’t work that way. Hawlucha Man doesn’t have the mindset for scheming, and he assumes that everyone else is a straight shooter like him.” The thief pursed her lips. “But he is starting to learn my tells when I’m not being completely above-board…”
Gwen managed to bite back a snarky comment as they reached the third floor landing, and the Shadow tapped on one of the doors. It opened a crack, revealing a young man with tousled hair, bleary eyes, and a t-shirt that was only half-pulled on. “Hey Bri,” he mumbled. “What’s the matter?”
“Bri?” Gwen asked, cocking an eyebrow. “So this ‘special arrangement’ has you two on a first name basis, huh?”
The guy, Hawlucha Man presumably, blinked and seemed to notice the mercenary for the first time. “Culain? What the—?”
The Shadow pushed past him into the apartment. “It’s a long story.”
Hawlucha Man stepped to the side and waved Gwen inside too. He ambled into the kitchen and poked a button on a coffee maker. “Hierro and I only got in about an hour and a half ago,” he said with a yawn. “I was hoping to catch a little sleep before work but… whatever.” His Hawlucha perched on the back of an armchair, eyeing the two women warily. Hawlucha Man gestured to his partner. “Oh, settle down. You two want coffee?”
“Yeah. Coffee sounds perfect,” the Shadow said, gliding over to the tiny kitchenette and opening one of the cabinets over the sink to draw out three mismatched mugs.
“You know where he keeps his cups?” Gwen asked, stifling a laugh. “And you’re seriously trying to tell me you two aren’t—”
“We’re not,” the Shadow said emphatically.
“So what did you drag me out of bed for?” Hawlucha Man asked, clearly eager to change the subject.
“It’s bad, birdbrain,” the Shadow said. “Like super bad.” She and Gwen told him what they had seen at the storage yard, and that the uneasy truce that the Kuromori and the Sins had honored for five years was finished. When they explained how they had gotten involved in the fight, Gwen pointedly left out the part where she had been immune to Dominion’s power, and the Shadow hadn’t pressed the issue. No sense in letting the heroes know everything.
At some point in the telling, a Skitty wandered in from the tiny apartment’s other room, and Gwen reached down to scratch the feline under its chin. The Skitty seemed perfectly comfortable climbing into Gwen’s arms and, even though she was a heartless mercenary, she wasn’t about to just dump it on the floor.
Hawlucha Man sipped idly at his coffee. “So you’re saying that on top of everything else, we have an all-out gang war to deal with? And both the Sins and the Kuromori might be gunning for you two specifically?”
“If they aren’t too busy trying to wipe each other out, yeah,” Gwen said.
“The police will need to be put on high alert. The Kuromori don’t have the manpower to take out the Sins, but if the Sins manage to thin their ranks enough, then Dominion would have uncontested control over the underworld in every borough but Avenbrooke,” Hawlucha Man muttered, more to himself than anything. “I don’t know if Jiro has a contingency plan for this. A lot of innocent people are going to be caught in the crossfire if this gets out of control.” He continued mumbling, with occasional glances towards his Hawlucha. Gwen only caught a few snatches, but she heard him say, “The informant never mentioned anything like this.”
“Informant?”
Hawlucha Man shook his head. “I’m in contact with a mole in the Sins’ ranks. I can’t really say more.” He poured himself another cup of coffee. “But I can ask them to pass along anything they hear about you. If the Sins do go after you, I can try to give you a little bit of an advance warning.”
“Thanks.” Gwen was surprised to find that she meant it. Hawlucha Man didn’t owe her anything, but she supposed that was the difference between heroes and people like her.
“You should both go to ground for a while. I’ll talk to Jiro to see what I can arrange for protection.”
“I’m a big girl,” Gwen said. “I can look after myself.” She turned to the Shadow. “Are we done here?”
“Yeah.” The thief had been sitting on the countertop, but she now dropped back to the floor. “Let’s go.”
Gwen left the tiny apartment first, but as she deposited the Skitty on the shabby armchair, she saw Hawlucha Man catch the Shadow’s wrist as the thief walked past. “Stay safe. Don’t take any stupid risks,” he said.
“I’m not an idiot, birdbrain. I’ll be careful.”
The two women left the tenement building. When they reached the street, the Shadow folded her arms. “All right, how much do I owe you? Knowing your rates, I’m going to be forking over a fortune…”
“You got twenty bucks?”
“Twenty bucks?”
“Yeah.”
The Shadow dug into a pocket and pulled out a crumpled bill. Gwen snatched it and stuffed it into her wallet. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah. I gave you a discount.” She glanced at the Shadow over the top of her sunglasses. “Unless you want to pay the full price?”
“Uh… nope.”
“Thought so.” Gwen swung onto her bike and raised the kickstand. “You two are totally a thing.”
“We are not!”
But Gwen just laughed as she drove away, leaving the Shadow fuming on the sidewalk behind her.
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Post by vray on Jan 28, 2019 18:15:28 GMT
Disclaimer: I'm very late for the party I know so this is for Chapter 1 and so far only 1. Will be added to, however, just please pardon my scooting in at the party late, heh.
So before I get into the bit of the commentary, I'd like to say that personally when it comes to it, I'm not that too keen regarding hero fics. However, this one has what I'd conclude as a good start that definetly grips to me in certain ways I'll get to later.
First, I'd like to say I like the way you did the fight scenes since well handling all the characters at once can be difficult to have all in focus. But I think you did well regarding how this "young hero" interacts with the lady along with how the battle plays out.
The second thing that gets me, is your dialogue. I enjoy the cliche-esque lines and the funny banter and the scene with the handcuffs were funny regarding his response. So from what I can tell of this character now, it's that he has a good looking up to this guy "Ronin" who is what I'd consider, does evil for good intentions or at least has some kind of moral obligation. The fact that our main character looks up to this guy after you did describe the body he left is honestly rather head scratching. While we can admire people we see as heroes, something about that doesn't really sound right but to be fair we are just getting to know your main character.
My only sort of issue is the lack of Alex and Hierro interaction since this is the main duo. While yeah, there's only so much interaction you can do in one chapter with one not even able to talk, I do think the scene of them waiting for the police to arrive could be an area to show more of Hierro's personality. He's a Hawlucha and all, that much is clear, though I'm curious to how much of the Vim and Vigor area this epic partner is. I have to say I liked this story and it was a good chapter. Hope you'll flesh things out more as I suspect the next one comprises of his less exciting part of life.
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girl-like-substance
the seal will bite you if you give him half a chance
Posts: 527
Pronouns: xe/xem
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Post by girl-like-substance on Jan 29, 2019 23:08:51 GMT
Oh, I kept meaning to get this one sooner! It's got Gwen, which I always like. And it's also a chapter with almost no Hawlucha Man, which I also always like – that this is 90% just a Gwen and Shadow adventure, apart from the amusing way that the spook and the sledgehammer bounce off one another (so to speak), really adds to that sense that these are a bunch of different lives and stories that are constantly interweaving because they snake through the same city. And that's one of the things I like most about this story, honestly, if only because I don't know enough about the superheroes I'm pretty sure you're referencing to be able to cogently analyse what you're doing with the genre itself, lol.
Anyway, Gwen! I'm not sure if I've mentioned it before, or whether we've even learned her surname before, but it's interesting to put her surname against the new knowledge that her parents were paragons of virtue; her name certainly hints at a fairly heroic lineage, and like, the modern descendants of mythological heroes like Cú Chulainn are probably superheroes and their ilk anyway. (Semi-related side note: it's a nice touch that she drinks whiskey rather than whisky, given her heritage and all.)
It's nice to see her distancing herself from the Sins, too – I've noticed that a lot of the, I guess you could call them side villains? Or more ambiguous heroes? But I don't want to include the Phantom in that, because he's a different sort of ambiguous hero, i.e. a self-centred asshole – anyway, to continue with this sentence I'm butchering, a lot of these side characters, like Gwen and the Shadow, are drifting diffidently towards the heroes, all the while loudly maintaining that it's just because it's sort of good to have some scruples or because Dominion's Sins are bad for business. I get the sense that at some point, it really is going to come down to whether you're with the Sins or against them, and it's good to know that these (really endearing) side characters are probably going to end up on the right side of that particular battle.
Making Gwen immune to ESP is an excellent touch, too. I'd wondered if some sort of psionic resistance, either natural or manufactured, would come into play here, given how powerful Dominion is – and, well, if it had to be anyone from the cast so far, I can't think of anyone better. Gwen's whole deal is that she's the most stubbornly independent person in Clarus City; sure, she says that she's loyal to whoever's currently paying her, but she's also more legalistic than a Faustian demon, constantly slithering out of contracts on technicalities when it suits her, and she goes one step further than that in this chapter, taking on a new client for laughable rates just because hers was the cause she wanted to champion. She does absolutely nothing that she doesn't want to; that's her most definitive character trait. So it makes perfect sense that she's the one person Dominion can't touch.
Speaking of which, it's really satisfying to see Dominion get punched. She's spent long enough being superior and mean that her ability to just sort of assume she can handle any situation (and assume rightly) has been kind of galling. I wonder how she's going to take this, once she's back on her feet? I'm guessing badly, and also that Gwen is probably going to need to watch her back for a while. Perhaps it's that which will end up bringing her into the wider conflict? That's just arrant speculation at this point, so I guess I'll stop there.
One last thing: this is a really action-packed chapter, even by the standards of this fic. It kind of has everything – a standoff, a big fight scene, a car chase, the works. The car chase stands out to me, as something that we don't see too much of in this story – which makes sense, sure, because Alex is after all mostly on foot, but that just makes it the more interesting when we follow a character who drives around and can engage in that sort of thing.
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Post by Firebrand on Feb 1, 2019 23:28:33 GMT
Chapter 24
The armored officer in riot gear grabbed Alex’s shoulder and hauled him behind his ballistic shield as bullets started pinging against the reinforced material. “Thanks for the save,” Alex panted. The officer gave him a nod and a terse grunt. When the rain of bullets stopped as the Sin enforcers hurried to reload, the officer lowered his shield and stepped to the side to allow his Magmortar to advance. The fire type raised its arms and blasted several pulses of molten material into the enemy ranks, scattering them and providing the officers of the Eleventh much-needed breathing room.
Alex glanced over his shoulder and whistled to Jade, the Duosion that was using her psychic power to keep him airborne. Jade lacked the telekinetic muscle of the Bronzong and two Alakazam that responding officers from the Eleventh had brought to the firefight, and so while the more powerful psychic types labored to hold up the tenement buildings damaged in the fighting while the occupants fled, Jade had been charged with erecting psychic barriers to defend the police. When Officer D’Souza, Jade’s human partner, had been injured by a stray bullet and ordered to fall back, Sergeant Matsuri had instructed the Duosion to add “throwing Hawlucha Man in the air” to her list of responsibilities.
Jade might not have been able to hold up buildings, but Alex had to admit that she had quite the arm. Well, in a manner of speaking.
He experienced a sudden lurch as psychic energy wrapped around his torso and hurled him upwards towards the clouds of avian and ghost pokemon locked in combat over the street. Alex spread his arms and let his wingsuit catch the wind as Hierro plummeted out of the sky and struck a snarling Golbat. A building near the police line groaned and started to sag, but one of the Alakazam caught it with a psychic hold as two officers raced inside, shouting for the residents to get out and seek safety.
Alex signaled to Hierro, and together they dropped down into a melee of Sin and Kuromori fighters. Fire crackled around Hierro’s fists as the Hawlucha leaped and struck at every combatant in range. Alex’s stun batons hummed as he cranked them up to the highest setting. Normally, he would show a little restraint in a chaotic mess like this and make sure no one was trampled in the fighting but… to hell with it. Everyone he was up against was a criminal of the highest order that was actively endangering civilians and the police. If they wound up with a few broken bones or a concussion, he wasn’t about to lose any sleep over it.
Brawls between the Sins and the Kuromori had become increasingly common over the last two weeks, with at least two or three erupting across the city every night as the rival factions went to war. But this was the largest Alex had yet seen, and neither side seemed terribly concerned with collateral damage.
Alex gritted his teeth and channeled his rage into each strike. These criminals had brought the fight to Avenbrooke, and he wasn’t about to let them run roughshod through his town. He tossed one of his batons to Hierro, and the Hawlucha deftly snatched it out of the air, turning the motion into a backhanded strike against a Poliwrath. Alex’s empty right hand curled into a fist, and he slammed it into the face of an oncoming enforcer, feeling a satisfying crunch as the man’s nose broke under the blow. Hierro vaulted off a Graveler and jumped over Alex’s head, dropping the baton back down as he did so. Alex grabbed it as Hierro slammed down on a Toxicroak and somersaulted into a Kuromori assassin. A Machoke lumbered through the press and reached out to grab Alex in a chokehold, but Alex ducked under its grasping hands and jabbed both of his batons into the fighting type’s abdomen. He felt as much as saw the Machoke’s body seize up as electricity coursed through its body, and then he heard Hierro’s claws skittering on the asphalt before the Hawlucha leapt and drove a fiery fist into the center of the Machoke’s chest, sending it staggering backwards before it collapsed and pinned two Kuromori under its bulk.
Alex and Hierro whirled to face the next wave of assailants, but before they could engage, they were momentarily blinded by a brilliant surge of light. Alex felt Hierro stiffen next to him, and they instinctively took up positions guarding each other’s back. A howl of wind tore through the air, and when Alex finally blinked the spots from his eyes, he saw Detective Reyes and Sergeant Matsuri standing before a crowd of prone Sin enforcers. Matsuri’s Raichu stood before her, the electrical sacs on the pokemon’s cheeks still crackling with stored power. Bella, Reyes’s Noctowl, beat the air with silent wings, her eyes glowing a brilliant red.
Matsuri trained her gun on the fallen enforcers and their pokemon to ensure they were truly down. “Well done, Kimiko,” she said to her Raichu before looking up to smirk at Alex. “You were doing okay, but we figured our way was faster.”
“Always grateful for an assist,” Alex said, falling into line with the officers from the Eleventh. Reyes’s gun cracked, and a Kuromori dropped to the ground, clutching their side. The ninja’s Weavile turned towards them with a hiss, but Kimiko dropped the pokemon with a quick burst of lightning.
“Dispatch says the Kuromori have reinforcements coming in down St. Laurent Street, and the Sins have backup en route from Twenty-Sixth and Main,” Matsuri said. “They broke through our cordon, so it looks like this party is about to get more fun.”
“We have very different definitions of fun,” Reyes grumbled.
“How are the civilians?” Alex asked as he checked Hierro for wounds. The Hawlucha seemed fine, but they had both taken a bad beating three nights ago. Alex was still feeling it, and even if his partner was putting on a brave face, he was sure Hierro was too.
“Not in the clear yet. Mags and Annabelle are holding up the last few buildings we need to evacuate,” Matsuri said, referring to one of the Alakazam and the Bronzong. “But it’s taking longer than we’d hoped. Lieutenant Garamond has Simon doing as controlled a demolition as we can on the empty ones.” The sergeant pursed her lips to fight down a stream of curses before finally giving in. “Those fucking bastards are gonna pay for this,” she hissed through clenched teeth.
The sharp report of gunfire echoed up and down the street as the rank and file of the Eleventh precinct advanced on the warring Kuromori and Sins. Matsuri signaled Reyes and Alex to advance, and they engaged another group of Sin grunts with Kimiko while Hierro and Bella headed off a flanking maneuver by three Kuromori. Alex lashed out with a roundhouse kick that sent a Sin enforcer stumbling into Reyes’s waiting fist. A pair of brass knuckledusters that Reyes wasn’t technically supposed to have glinted on the detective’s hand as he smashed his fist through the gangster’s teeth. If Matsuri gave a damn about Reyes ignoring regulations, she didn’t show it. With the city’s underworld at war, the only thing that mattered was keeping the innocent people of Clarus City out of the crossfire.
A pack of Bisharp was closing on Alex’s left flank, but before he could respond, a curtain of black and crimson flames separated him from the advancing pokemon. A Houndoom bounded through the blaze, more fire crackling around its jaws. Two of the Bisharp pounced, only for the Houndoom to turn its full fury on them. The canine snarled out a challenge and whipped the hellfire it had conjured into a spiral as it charged through the massed steel type towards their human partners.
The Kuromori behind the Bisharp drew their poisoned knives in preparation to attack, but before they could strike the Houndoom, four shots rang out, stopping the Kuromori cold. Captain Anderson stood down the street, his brown overcoat open to reveal a flak vest strapped to his chest. “Give ‘em hell, Oscar!” the captain bellowed over the din of the melee. The Houndoom howled and set upon his foes with a vengeance.
Anderson ran up the street to join Alex and Matsuri. “The Sins have a Steelix incoming,” he growled as he slammed a new magazine into his pistol.
“Where the fuck did they get a Steelix?” Matsuri snapped.
“Hell if I know. But taking it down has got to be our priority.”
Alex nodded. The buildings on this street were already in bad shape, but if something the size of a Steelix were to engage here, it could level the entire block. “That riot guy with a Magmortar. Think he could put it down?”
“Jefferson and his Magmortar went down to a Rhyperior ten minutes ago.”
Alex cursed under his breath. “I’ll have Hierro distract it.”
“Son, that’s not—”
“Captain. My partner and I will keep it occupied until the Eleventh can figure out a way to put it down.” He flashed Anderson a smile he hoped looked genuine. “Don’t worry. We got this.” He fell back a few paces and signaled to Hierro. “Jade! Get us airborne!”
The Duosion’s eyes flashed, and Alex was hurled upwards. He and Hierro soared over to a nearby rooftop, where Alex could just make out the armored head of a Steelix making its ponderous way down Twenty-Sixth Street. Hierro looked expectantly at Alex. “Okay,” Alex said as he paused to catch his breath. “So I don’t really have a plan, as such…” Hierro made a low, rasping noise in his throat, the sort of thing that passed for an exasperated sigh from the Hawlucha. He struck his talons together like flints, and small flames blossomed around his claws. “Glad we’re on the same page,” Alex said. “The plan, more or less, is to improvise until something works, and then keep doing that.”
Hierro rolled his eyes and launched himself into the air, and Alex was only a heartbeat behind him. The Steelix rounded the corner, flanked by a crowd of Sin enforcers that urged the beast on. As Alex shot past the Steelix’s left flank in a dive, he saw that the serpent’s beady eyes were crazed and agitated. Its tail lashed back and forth, scoring deep rents in the brick row houses that lined the street.
Hierro descended on the creature’s broad head with a fiery strike. The Steelix groaned as Hierro delivered a flurry of blows between the Steelix’s eyes, but the heavy metal plating that covered the steel type absorbed most of the force. Alex made a hasty landing on the street and jabbed his baton at full strength into a clump of the iron ore that made up the Steelix’s body and the giant snake didn’t so much as flinch.
The enforcers and capos turned towards Alex, and he braced himself for a fight. “Hierro!” he shouted. “Slow that thing down!” A Scyther lunged at him, and Alex ducked under its blades to drive his left baton into the center of the insect’s thorax. When the Scyther seized up, Alex kicked it backwards into a leaping Ratticate and dropped a capo with three punches, likely breaking the man’s nose in the process.
It seemed to Alex that the Sins didn’t have the Steelix fully under control, and that they needed all of these enforcers and their pokemon to shepherd it forward to where they needed it. If he could disable enough of the enforcers, the Steelix might disengage. Granted, a rampaging, out of control Steelix posed its own set of problems, but the Pokemon Protective Service would be equipped to handle that.
Hierro screamed as he looped around for another strike, this time slamming into the Steelix from the right flank and making the fire from his punch explode in a supercharged burst the instant before impact. There was a brilliant flash and a rush of heat, making the Steelix recoil. Alex saw Hierro tumble head-over-tail feathers through the air before righting himself and racing in for another pass, heedless of his smoking feathers.
In the moment of distraction, Alex felt someone strike him across the chest with a blunt club, knocking the wind from his lungs. A Golett was before him, its fist poised to strike as three Sin capos closed in. Even if Alex could have called out to Hierro, there was no way his partner could have come to his aid in time. Alex struggled to his feet and took a deep breath. “All right, bastards. You may have me, but I’m not going down easy.”
The first capo moved forward, a knife flashing in his hand. Alex prepared to defend, but before the man could close the distance, there was a sharp crack, a spray of blood, and the man dropped. Two more cracks followed, and the other capos fell in the same fashion. A Granbull barreled through the crowd and lifted the Golett off its feet before slamming it down on the pavement, cracking the rocky carapace that surrounded the automaton.
“Never thought I’d see the day,” a hulking giant of a man boomed. “When the boss told me to go help out Hawlucha Man and the Eleventh, I thought he’d gone crazy.” Bruce Giordano reloaded a double-barreled shotgun and raised the weapon. Alex froze as the gun went off again, and a man three feet to Alex’s right had his head blown off. “But these bastards are fighting in Avenbrooke, and they seem to forget that the Baron always protects what’s his.” Giordano’s Blastoise trundled up beside him and settled into a crouch. With a roar, it shot two blasts of highly pressurized water from the cannons on its back. The geysers struck the Steelix hard enough to fling the serpent’s ponderously heavy head back. The metal carapace that covered its face had already been heated by Hierro’s fiery barrages, and now erupted into a cloud of hot steam.
More of the Baron’s men spilled out of alleyways and side streets, armed with guns, clubs, bats and knives. Alex realized that these weren’t Pirozzi’s rank-and-file, usually pulled from the legions of dockworkers and physical laborers in Avenbrooke’s poorer quarters, the sort of men who would do anything for a little extra cash. No, the men Giordano had brought were the best cutters in Avenbrooke, trained professional killers. Alex had tangled with some of them personally, and had been hard pressed to get out intact.
“Show them what happens when they mess with our town!” Giordano bellowed. “Get ‘em!” The Baron’s men roared in response and surged down the street to where the Eleventh was struggling to hold the line against the warring Sins and Kuromori.
The Baron’s forces crashed into the struggling factions from behind, turning the three way melee into an all-out brawl. The gangsters screamed and pokemon shrieked and roared as the fighting intensified, punctuated by the hollow crack of gunfire. Alex could only watch as the street descended into absolute chaos. Hierro shot out of the sky and tackled Alex backwards as the Steelix shifted its heavy coils, bringing part of them down just where Alex had been standing. Giordano picked off two more Sin enforcers before signaling to the alley behind him. “All right, Espalier. Go earn your keep.”
A slight figure with a wan face stumbled out from the shadows, his weight supported by a concerned-looking Mr. Mime. His black-and-white motley clothes hung loosely on his skeletal frame, and he was so pale that his veins stood out like black webs on his ghostly pale skin. “Pierre,” Alex gasped. The mime briefly met Alex’s eye and managed a sad smile. The esper raised his hands in front of him, palms out, and Alex saw the air behind the Steelix ripple and shimmer, a sure sign that Pierre had just erected a psychic barrier behind the steel type.
“What are you doing?” Alex shouted to Giordano. “We want to keep it back, not cut it off!”
“I’m keeping it right where I want it,” Giordano growled. “We can’t let it rampage through Avenbrooke, so I’m taking it down right here! Genbu!” His Blastoise grunted and shifted its weight, lowering its bulk and angling its cannons. Giordano nodded and patted his partner’s shell. “Give it everything you got!”
Genbu unleashed two torrents of water from its cannons with enough force to drive the heavy amphibian back several paces. And yet Genbu corrected for the recoil instantly, keeping up the steady stream of pressurized water and forcing the Steelix to retreat all the way to Pierre’s wall. Giordano snapped his fingers a Hierro. “You, bird! We’ll need you to finish it off!”
Hierro spared a quick glance at Alex, and his human partner nodded. Hierro took off at a sprint before flinging himself into the air. He swooped around Genbu’s water jets, spiraling and building up speed. He shot past the Steelix’s head, gaining altitude before diving back down at terminal velocity, fire trailing from his claws like a comet. Hierro struck the center of the Steelix’s skull plate just between Genbu’s torrents, throwing up another cloud of steam. The Steelix’s armor shrieked as it warped from the icy cold water and the blisteringly hot flames. Alex saw Hierro shoot up over the steam, turn in a quick somersault, and plummet down again, feet first this time.
When Hierro’s kick landed on the Steelix’s skull, the metal armor cracked and the serpent bellowed as it suddenly went limp and crashed to the street. Hierro bounded off the Steelix’s collapsing form and landed gracefully not far from Alex. Giordano shouldered his shotgun and sucked his teeth. “Not bad.” Genbu grunted and favored Hierro with a respectful nod.
Pierre flicked his hands, and the psychic wall behind the Steelix shattered into hundreds of tiny shards of light that vanished before they hit the ground. The esper sagged against his Mr. Mime. The psychic type ran his hands through Pierre’s limp hair and made small concerned noises while Pierre struggled to take deep breaths.
Up the street, the Baron’s cutters had managed to turn the street brawl into a rout. The Sins and Kuromori that could manage it were fleeing into side streets. The police attempted to go after them, but their numbers had been thinned as well, and they lacked the manpower for a proper pursuit. Alex had no doubt that many of the runners would find their way to bolt holes and safe houses in Greenpoint. Giordano brought two fingers to his mouth and whistled. “That’s enough, boys! If they’re still breathing, leave ‘em where they fell and let the police take care of ‘em!” The cutters immediately broke off and slipped back into the alleyways they had come from, and Anderson’s officers were too exhausted to chase after them. Alex saw Matsuri, Reyes, and a few of the other officers picking their way through the last of the other factions’ combatants and looking for any that the Baron’s men left alive. Those that weren’t in critical condition were cuffed and moved aside so that medical personnel could stabilize the rest.
Giordano smirked. “Redstone’s going to be pretty full before all this is over. To say nothing of the morgues.”
Alex shook his head. “That was barbaric.”
“They would have done the same to us given half a chance, Hawlucha Man. The least you could do is thank me for the help.” Giordano shrugged. “I figure one less criminal, one way or the other, makes your life easier too.” At Alex’s cold glare, Giordano shrugged. “Or maybe not. Tell Captain Anderson that the Avenbrooke Community Fund will help pay for the damages here and make sure the civilians have somewhere to go.”
“That’s surprisingly magnanimous of your boss.”
It was Giordano’s turn to glare at Alex. “The boss keeps his promises. He told you and the Ronin that he would defend Avenbrooke from the Sins and the Kuromori. This is just him making good on his word.” He turned on his heel. “Let’s go, Espalier.”
Pierre limped after Giordano, but Alex held up a hand. “Pierre, wait!”
The esper turned around and managed a faint smile. “Trying to save me again?”
“I… yes. Let me help you, Pierre.”
“It’s a little too late for that.”
“The way they treat you is wrong! Can’t you see that?” Alex took a step forward, and found himself up against one of Pierre’s psychic barriers. He put his hands up against the wall and shook his head. “I couldn’t help you before, and that’s one of my greatest failures as a hero. But things are different now! If you just come with me, we can—”
“No, Hawlucha Man.” Pierre sighed and turned away. “I chose this path, just like you chose yours. There’s no going back now.” Alex could only watch as Pierre and Mimsy disappeared after Giordano. It wasn’t until Alex heard a car drive away into the night that the barrier finally disappeared.
Alex dragged himself down the street past where the police officers and emergency personnel were rounding up the remaining Sin and Kuromori brawlers. Several were dead, and a handful more were clearly in critical condition. Alex was sure that the Baron’s men had been thorough in their work, and very few of them would live to see trial. He supposed he should feel something about that, but he wasn’t really in the mood to be sympathetic to the people who had leveled two city blocks and displaced over a hundred civilians.
He felt his left leg give out as he passed the husk of a recently collapsed tenement building. The police psychic types had done their work well, and managed to make the building fall inward on itself, sparing the row houses on either side from serious structural damage. The building was a pile of timbers and masonry, with the remains of some furniture and piping visible in the rubble. But the stoop had been left almost completely untouched, and Alex let himself sink down onto the stone stairs. Hierro bounded up next to him and made concerned cooing sounds, but Alex assured his partner that he was fine and just needed to rest for a moment.
Reyes and Matsuri made their way over to him, and the detective handed Alex a paper cup of lukewarm coffee. Alex took it with a silent nod of gratitude and let himself take a moment to inhale the rapturous, heavenly scent of slightly charred, mediocre coffee. Matsuri leaned against one of the chipped stone pillars at the edge of the stoop and sighed. “Hell of a night, boys.”
“And it’s not going to get any better,” Reyes replied. “How you holding up, Hawlucha Man?”
“Sore,” Alex said, trying to work some feeling back into his leg. “But I won’t really feel it until the morning.”
“You want us to get one of the EMTs to take a look at you?” Matsuri asked. “Or get you some painkillers?”
Alex shrugged. “I’ve been sore for weeks now. You get used to it.” He tried to manage a bit of bravado, but even to him it sounded hollow. Lately his body had just been a collection of aches and pains, and he woke up with new bruises every day. Jiro and Johannes kept reminding him to take care of his body and his health, but it was difficult to do that when he was putting himself on the line every night to bring down some new threat.
It was just a matter of learning to compartmentalize, pushing aside the minor aches and pains until they just became a mildly unpleasant background noise. He didn’t have the luxury of taking time off to recover, not with the city in the state it was in. Part of being a hero was putting the safety of Clarus City above his personal well-being.
The hero business was all about self-sacrifice, right? Well, Alex figured he was doing his fair share.
Reyes shook his head. “Just once, I’d like a clear-cut win. You know what I mean? Every time we put a stop to these guys, the worst of them slip through our fingers and just make even more trouble a few days later. We can pack Redstone full of these bastards, but they aren’t going to go away.”
“This was a win,” Matsuri said, her tone firm. “We managed to evacuate this entire street with no serious injuries to the civilians, and we’re putting more than a score of dangerous criminals behind bars too. That’s a victory in my book.”
Alex stared into the dregs of his coffee, as if that would give him some answers. “Maybe you’re right.” He winced as he remembered the haunted look in Pierre’s eyes as the esper turned away from him. Pierre had lost his hope, and Alex held himself responsible for that. If he had been able to help the esper when he was first starting out as a hero, maybe things could have been different. But Pierre was right, he had made his choice, and Alex couldn’t save him if he didn’t want to be saved.
But he could stop other people from succumbing to the same despair that had claimed Pierre. Seeing Jiro Sasaki become Blaziken Man five years ago had filled Alex with passion and inspired him to become a hero too. Blaziken Man had been a symbol of hope for the entire city, and inspired others like Alex to take to the streets to defend their homes. But with the Sins growing in power and the city teetering on the brink, Clarus City needed a new symbol of hope. Alone, the heroes couldn't hold back the tide of violence sweeping through the city any more than they could stop the tide coming into the harbor, but if they all stood together… maybe they could end it once and for all.
An alliance of Clarus City’s heroes had once stood ready to put an end to Marcus Braun’s reign of terror, however short-lived. Dominion was a more terrifying foe than Sloth had been, certainly, but if the heroes were all united once again, rather than holding the line and fighting their own private battles in their respective boroughs, then perhaps they stood a chance against the esper and her legion of criminals.
It was time to call in some favors.
Alex pushed himself to his feet and staggered down the steps, past Matsuri and Reyes. Hierro jumped up beside him, ready to catch his partner should Alex stumble. “Hey!” the detective said. “Where are you going? The captain wants to debrief.”
“Tell the captain I’ll catch up with him later. Right now, I need to make a few phone calls.”
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girl-like-substance
the seal will bite you if you give him half a chance
Posts: 527
Pronouns: xe/xem
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Post by girl-like-substance on Feb 6, 2019 23:01:42 GMT
Things are really heating up, huh; we've seen tensions rise a lot over the past few chapters, but open warfare in the streets is definitely a step further still. Maybe more unsettling than that is the effect it's having on everyone's favourite bird furry son; it takes a lot to crack Alex's armour of relentless positivity, and that's what we're looking at here. I get the sense, from the way he fights and the attitudes towards lasting injury he espouses, that he's pretty bloody worn out at this point.
Though I also have to say that even at this point, he's still himself enough to argue with the Baron's goons about collateral damage and stuff when they show up. One of the things that marks Alex's character is how hopeful he is; whenever he hits a point where he feels he's at rock bottom, he only ever languishes there for a moment or two before he finds a new reserve of energy and optimism and talks or thinks himself up into setting off on a new plan. That's part of what allows him to be the symbol he is – for the old guard of the Clarus City heroes, that is; I think the Avenbrooke citizenry probably don't see enough of him at his low points for them to appreciate this aspect of his character – and it really shines through at moments like this.
I have to say, I was … slightly confused about the ending, though? Maybe it's just that I've forgotten stuff from a while back, but I could've sworn that after Dominion's takeover, Jiro told Alex to wait while he and the other senior superheroes came up with a counterattack plan, and that everything that's happened since has been in that lull. So while it made sense to me that Alex finished the chapter being all like we need to make a stand!, the way he went about it as if they weren't already planning to do that seemed odd to me. But maybe I've just forgotten stuff? It's been a while (in real time) since everyone teamed up last.
Speaking of teaming up! I like that even the Baron's coming round now; I feel like almost all the figures of the indie crime world (god, Clarus supports a lot of criminals for a city where approximately 10% of the population by volume are viciously talented costumed vigilantes) we've so far met are starting to come together against the Sins at this point, even if only in fairly narrow-minded ways like the Baron's mafia does here, where they're only intervening because they don't like trouble on their turf. Everything feels like it could tip over into a massive great team-up where the whole of Clarus City comes up against the Sins, which would be pretty cool and also like, the purest possible expression of this fic's spirit, I think.
Anyway, one other thing: I like a good boss fight, and the steelix was an interesting one – but I thought maybe the whole 'fighting it while trying to avoid collateral damage' thing that was raised at the start could have made it more interesting yet if it was made more of, if that makes sense? Like if the Baron's guys are trying to stop it by any means necessary, and Alex and Hierro are like hey, wait, gotta save that building, that kind of thing. I guess I sort of expected it to play a bigger role than it did, given how it was the major concern when the steelix was first introduced.
Hang on, I lied, one more other thing@
'Raticate' has only two Ts.
That's all from me for this time! Definitely looking forward to seeing how things develop from here.
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Post by Firebrand on Feb 15, 2019 21:32:35 GMT
Chapter 25
Salvatore Genovese had been in the business long enough to know that you couldn’t call a job done until it was done, but as he sat in the back of a van hurtling down the Greenpoint expressway, he allowed himself a small flush of pride. His crew had done their jobs well, and they had slipped in and out of the Moirai Institute’s satellite Greenpoint campus as quietly as anyone could have hoped for. It felt good to be back doing the sort of work he was familiar with after all of the plotting and scheming and inter-faction warfare the Clarus underworld had endured for the past several months.
Sal had been tapped by no less than Pride herself to lead this operation, and she had thrown all of the resources of the Sins’ organization behind it. With that kind of support, Sal had his pick of any of the Sins’ membership to bring along on the heist, so he had assembled a crack team from across the Sins’ various disciplines. Three cat burglars from Envy’s stable, a bioweapon specialist that worked for Wrath, two of Greed’s top enforcers for a bit of extra muscle, and a young hacker who Gluttony kept on retainer to disable the security. And of course, he’d tapped the only man in the city he trusted, his cousin Gian, to drive their getaway van.
The operation had been simple enough on paper. The Moirai Institute, Clarus City’s flagship in developing renewable and sustainable energy, had their main campus in a well-secured Lenox Hills office park. But they also maintained a small secret warehouse in Greenpoint to keep some of their projects on ice. The warehouse wasn’t on any official records, and only a few of the top engineers at Moirai even knew it existed. The secrecy and the high-tech security system was supposed to keep anything the eggheads stored there safe, but it also meant that the actual living, breathing security was rather lacking. It had been an easy task for Sal’s hacker to disable the system via a backdoor while Greed’s enforcers took out the handful of security guards outside. Then, the cat burglars had slipped in, deployed the aerosol weapon that Wrath’s scientist provided to take out any security without tripping any alarms before they retrieved their objective, and met the rest of the crew at the rendezvous point.
It had been a clean job with a clean getaway. Sal didn’t know why the new boss wanted the generator prototype he had been sent to recover any more than he understood why the crazy esper had sent Wrath and Envy to blow up half of Greenpoint to get some magic gemstone that apparently didn’t even work, or why she had spent the first few weeks after consolidating her power gathering up radio transmission equipment. That kind of thing was above his pay grade, and he had been in the business long enough to not ask questions.
He and Gian had joined up with Marconi’s crew years ago, almost before he’d started shaving. They’d been a smaller gang, jealously guarding the small bit of territory in Ridgewood they managed to claim for their own, flying under the radar of Eva Muller’s import and extortion rackets. But then Julia Richelieu had shown up and started taking out competitors, and one thing led to another, and now Marconi had been dead for nearly ten years. Sal had always been able to tell which way the wind was blowing, so he fell in line behind Richelieu, kept his head down, and followed orders. Years of working for the boss had let him climb the ranks of her organization, and now he was a competent and respected capo. Sure, he’d never be one of the elite cutters that made up the boss’s inner circle, but she knew he was a reliable guy who could do what he was instructed and deliver results.
When Marcus Braun had shaken up the Clarus underworld, Sal had done well for himself. With Richelieu throwing in her lot with Sloth early and becoming Pride, Sal was able to get in on the ground floor of the Sins’ organization and maintain his comfortable position as a mid-level capo. Even when Dominion had taken out Braun and become the new boss of the bosses, things hadn’t changed too much for Sal. Orders still came down, and he still followed them.
He had only met Dominion once, when she decided to inspect some of Pride’s capos and enforcers for herself. In her four-inch stilettos and pencil skirt, Dominion hadn’t seemed like much, and at first Sal had wondered how this petite woman had managed to take over from the titan of a man that had been Marcus Braun. But then he felt… something, like a hand rifling through his thoughts, running through his brain like a sieve, and he had just known that in that instant, he had no secrets from Dominion. If the new boss had said the word, he would have done anything she asked without hesitation, even if he’d wanted to resist. That kind of power couldn’t be fought against, at least not by someone like Sal.
At the end of her inspection, Dominion had snapped her fingers, and about ten of Pride’s capos had stepped forward. The looks on their faces told Sal that they weren’t in control as they stood in a line in front of Dominion and dropped to their knees. The five blank-faced goons the esper had brought as an escort stepped up and put a bullet through all ten of their skulls. Dominion’s lip had curled as she stared out at the remaining capos and gestured with a lazy flick of her wrist to the fresh corpses on the ground. “They didn’t want to get with the program,” she had said in her high, piping voice. “And now you all know the price of insubordination. If any of you so much as entertain the notion of crossing me, you’ll realize that your departed friends got to take the easy way out. Is that clear?”
Sal had never been more terrified in his life.
So when word had come down from Pride herself that the boss had an assignment for him, Sal had known better than to refuse. If Dominion wanted a miniature prototype generator from the Moirai Institute, then Sal was going to get it for her, simple as that.
He stared down at the roughly square metal suitcase currently between his legs and sighed. Pretty soon, he’d be delivering this into Pride’s hands, collecting the generous payout that he had been promised, and blowing a solid chunk of it on enough drinks to get the whole business off his mind.
Sal had just about let himself relax when the van suddenly jerked, making him and the rest of his crew strain against their seatbelts. He heard Gian swearing up front, and the wheels of the van screeching against the pavement. “What’s going on?” Sal snapped.
“I don’t know, Toto!” Gian shouted back. Only Gian still used that particular diminutive of Salvatore’s name. It had been what Marconi had called him, back in the day, but Gian was the only one still alive to know that. “I’m flooring it, but we’re not moving.”
Sal wrenched off his seatbelt and pulled himself up to the driver’s seat. As he did, he stumbled forward and realized that the floor of the van was at a slight incline; the back wheels had been lifted from the ground. “What the hell?” Sal muttered. And then the front windshield exploded inward and a flash of light momentarily disoriented him.
The back doors of the van flew open, revealing a woman in a pristine white body suit with a gold and crimson mask obscuring her face. Behind her, a young man with cherubic blonde curls dancing around his head hovered a foot off the ground, his hands outstretched. Sal cursed under his breath. Things had just gotten a lot more complicated.
“You’ve got one chance to come quietly,” Volcarona Mask said, twirling a quarterstaff through the air.
One of Greed’s guys, Sal was pretty sure his name was Viktor, drew his semiautomatic and let loose. The esper behind Volcarona Mask didn’t even move, but Sal saw his eyes flash just for an instant. Viktor’s bullets stopped just as they left the muzzle of the gun and hung suspended for a heartbeat before dropping to the floor of the van with a clatter.
Sal seized the case with the generator. “Run!” Pokeballs flashed behind him as his crew hastily exited the van. Pokemon shrieked and roared as they raced for the edge of the expressway that Sal was now noticing was suspiciously free of other traffic. He heard one of Envy’s thieves cry out as Volcarona Mask’s staff whipped around. He knew that as the leader of this crew, he was responsible for all of his people, but the momentary distraction was enough for Gian to stumble out of the driver’s seat and get clear. When the choice was between a stranger and family, he’d pick his cousin every time.
Sal palmed a pokeball and summoned his Skarmory as he neared the edge of the expressway. The flying type understood immediately what Sal intended, having pulled off this maneuver in similar pursuits over the years. As Sal vaulted over the guardrail, he raised his hands above his head and felt Vito’s talons wrap around his upturned wrists. The big bird’s wings snapped as he extended them, and with Vito’s help, Sal descended safely to the street below and Vito looped back to pick up Gian. Sal spared a glance over his shoulder and saw Greed’s two enforcers rappelling down just far enough for them to jump to the street without injuring themselves, while one of Envy’s remaining thieves clung to an Ariados that scuttled down a length of thick silk. The other thief jumped into empty air only to be caught by a telekinetic force produced by his Mismagius and lowered down. Gluttony’s hacker joined hands with his Medicham, and the pair of them jumped after the thief, cushioning their landing with a psychic pulse. Wrath’s bomber (Reina, he thought her name was) swung down aided by her Carnivine’s tendrils.
With the remaining members of his crew assembled, Sal took stock of the situation. He handed off the heavy generator case to Viktor’s buddy (Yakov? Yuri?) since the damn thing was heavy, and the brute had biceps the size of watermelons. The sensible thing to do would be for Sal and Vito to fly off with the case and deliver it back to the boss, but Sal could see Volcarona Mask’s pokemon partner flitting in the air above the expressway, and Vito wasn’t as fast as he used to be. Between the Volcarona and the esper, he wasn’t sure his Skarmory would make it. As risky as it was, they’d have to escape on foot.
And if Sal was honest, he liked their odds. They had been stopped only two blocks outside the Warren, the most notorious slum in the city. Its winding streets had thwarted many a pursuit, and every criminal in the city worth his salt had a bolthole or two in the Warren. Perfect.
“Okay,” Sal said. “So we’ve got two heroes on our tail, and probably the cops too. We’re going to make a break for the Warren. Stay together if we can, but if things get hairy, bolt. If we get separated, we’ll rendezvous at the old Spheal Shipping warehouse. Let’s go.”
The crew obeyed immediately. Sal appreciated that. He’d gone out of his way to pick old hands, people who knew their business and knew how to follow orders. The seven of them sprinted into the shadowy, labyrinthine streets of the Warren. The streets were too narrow for even streetlights, so illumination was sparse. Sal’s crew startled Murkrow, Zubat, and assorted feral ghost types into the air, while Rattata, Venipede and Trubbish picking through the garbage that lined the streets skittered into the shadows. Windows slammed shut and the denizens of the Warren stood clear as Sal’s crew hastened into the depths of the slum. When you lived in the Warren, you learned how to mind your own business.
The heroes caught them when they reached the first large confluence of streets.
Volcarona Mask descended from the sky, heralded by a pillar of blisteringly hot air and a gale that forced Vito to the ground with a rattle of iron feathers. Sal covered his eyes to keep from being blinded by the dust. The young woman wasted no time, setting on them with her staff twirling over her head. She was beside the hacker’s Medicham in a heartbeat, battering the fighting type with a flurry of acrobatic kicks. The young woman seemed to spiral around her staff, rather than the other way around. Sal barely had time to process the Medicham dropping to its knees before Volcarona Mask hurled a flashbang right into the midst of Greed’s brutes, and the brilliant flash of light disoriented the bruisers as they tried to shoulder their guns and call out their pokemon. Viktor had managed to get his Electabuzz out, but Volcarona Mask was upon them with all the fury of some primordial volcanic god long before they had managed to gather their wits.
The Electabuzz and Ariados tried to pounce on her from behind, only to be confronted by Volcarona Mask’s pokemon. The fiery insect beat its wings twice and hurled the other two pokemon back. Reina unslung a shotgun from her back, but before she could fire off a round, the twin barrels of the gun were seized by an invisible force and curved back on themselves with a shriek of rending metal, bending into a loop that rendered the gun useless. The shotgun was wrenched from the woman’s hands by a second application of the invisible force, and the man with the cherubic curls drifted down from a nearby rooftop.
The esper smirked and spreads his hands. “This is usually the part where I say ‘be not afraid’, but given the circumstances…” He closed his hands into fists, and Sal’s crew was lifted from their feet and hurled in every direction. The esper laughed to himself. “You’re all screwed.”
Reina’s Carnivine recovered first, and launched itself at the esper with a snarl. There was a sharp crack as a Kadabra appeared in the air in front of the esper and thrust its spoon into the grass type’s gaping maw. The Kadabra conjured a wall of solid light, stopping the Carnivine’s attack cold. The psychic type raised its free hand and snapped its fingers, generating a small telekinetic pulse that sent the Carnivine flying into its trainer.
Viktor’s partner had called out his Heracross, and the blue beetle had wrenched up a manhole cover from the street. It hurled the metal disk at the esper, hoping to catch the young man unawares, but the esper whirled and stopped the disc without so much as twitching his fingers. “Don’t pick fights you can’t win,” he admonished, and an instant later every manhole cover and storm drain grate within a hundred feet had lifted in the air and began to spin around the crossroads.
Envy’s thieves had snuck around Volcarona Mask’s flanks, and only the glint of their daggers in the moonlight gave them away as they closed in on the masked hero. She jammed her staff into a crack in the pavement and used it to vault into the air, delivering two roundhouse kicks that knocked the thieves backwards. One slammed into a flying sewer grate and went down with a groan, but Gian caught the second and helped him keep his feet.
“Retreat!” Sal barked, grabbing the generator case and sprinting down an alleyway. He heard his crew scrambling behind him as they hastened away from the heroes. Vito rattled into the sky above Sal, using his bulk to shield his trainer from an aerial attack. Vito spared a quick glance over his shoulder to see who had managed to get away, and was gratified to see that everyone except the downed thief was falling in line.
Volcarona Mask started after them, but her esper friend stuck out an arm. “Hang on, give them a bit of a head start.” The kid certainly looked like the posh uptown type, but Sal had never heard of a hero actually being sportsmanlike in the middle of a brawl. Still, he wasn’t about to turn down a stroke of good luck when Arceus saw fit to hand one down to him.
It only took two and a half minutes for Sal to figure out why Volcarona Mask had let them get ahead. That was when the music started.
At first, it was just the sound of a single electric guitar ringing out over the rooftops of the Warren, but soon the noise grew, rising to decibel levels that hit Sal and his crew like a physical force. He saw the remaining thief and the hacker fall to their knees and clutch their ears even as he felt his own teeth rattling in his skull. A single sharp note rose up, and Sal heard panes of glass shatter, and then the noise of the guitar started to fade.
But Sal’s reprieve was short-lived, because then he heard the singing.
“Better you pray, for the night is falling
Heed the call from the heavens
Follow the night, and the soldier’s calling
Bring on the sacrament of the fallen!”
Each word hit like a punch to the gut, and Sal saw Vito crash down on the street. There was a reverberating bellow from somewhere on the rooftops, and a black shape briefly eclipsed the waning moon before shooting into the black night sky. A human figure appeared atop the building at the end of the street, platinum blonde hair streaming behind her as she played another chord on her guitar. Echo had come out to play.
“Come on to the other side
Out of the dark we climb
Gather for the rite, my warriors!
We are the force allied
Into the war we ride
For glory!”
Two hulking shapes dropped down from the rooftop beside her and unleashed another sonic blast in time with the last screaming note of the sonic hero’s chorus. He saw Reina stagger backwards as though struck with a blow. The larger of the singer’s pokemon, an Exploud, drove its right fist into its left palm, and a white nimbus of electricity crackled around its hand. Its companion, a Loudred, Sal saw, opened its mouth wide and blasted the Ariados and Mismagius with a burst of air that sent the two pokemon toppling head over backside.
Viktor ordered his Electabuzz forward, and the electric type bravely leaped into the fray against the Exploud. The two exchanged blows that lit up the street with brief flashes of dazzling light, but Sal could see that the Exploud had the Electabuzz beat. The behemoth brought its fist back for one final blow, and the Electabuzz bravely stood its ground to meet it. Their fists collided with a sound like a thunderclap, and the Electabuzz was thrown backwards into Viktor, and he barely managed to keep his feet as he stabilized his partner. The hacker’s Medicham tried to attack the Exploud as it generated another static charge, but the Loudred blasted it backwards.
Reina and the thief rallied their pokemon and charged at the two sonic pokemon, only to be stopped in their tracks by another piercing chord from Echo.
“Stand by night and heed the call of the fight
Let your minds go wild before the light
Here we stand, the army of the night!
Sworn to Arceus Invictus!”
A Noivern descended from above and punctuated the final line of Echo’s verse with sonic boom that sent Sal backpedaling. He tripped over a stoop and landed on his behind, and the rest of his remaining crew fared no better. He knew that Echo was tough, but she and her pokemon had pinned all of them without breaking a sweat. “I didn’t sign up for this shit,” Sal grumbled to himself. Then, louder, “Run!”
Echo and her pokemon sent them on their way with another piercing scream, and Sal could feel the blood leaking from his ears as he hustled back down the narrow street. His head was spinning from Echo’s auditory assault, and he took corners at random, hoping to find something he recognized to get his bearings. With three heroes on his tail, he needed to find a bolthole, and fast.
He turned down a blind alley and heard his crew panting behind him. The alley stretched between a row of tall tenement buildings, and the moon was angled in such a way as to throw odd, jagged shadows across the cracked pavement. Halfway down the alley, a single man in a tuxedo stood with both hands on an elegantly carved wooden cane. Vito dropped out of the sky and landed in front of his trainer, his steel feathers bristling.
The man looked up and regarded Sal’s crew with a cold stare from behind a white domino mask. He tilted his head to the side, and his face twisted into a mocking sneer. Sal had heard rumors about the Phantom, but he hadn’t know the guy was such a prick.
Still, something about him sent a shiver down Sal’s spine. And that was when he noticed that the Phantom’s shadow was pointing in the wrong direction.
The Phantom glanced down and then met Sal’s gaze. “Figured out my trick, huh?” The man’s shadow grew and split around his body, growing as it did so. The shadows spread outward, covering the entire alley behind the Phantom with a darkness deeper than any Sal had ever seen. A single glowing red eye appeared in the darkness, and a Dusknoir materialized behind the Phantom, emitting an eerie spectral hum.
“We gotta run, Toto,” Gian whispered. “We’ve gotta get out of here.”
Sal could only nod, but just as he took a step back, the Phantom made a low noise in his throat. “Leaving so soon?” He tapped his cane against the pavement twice, and the darkness behind him rippled. Fanged mouths and glowing eyes appeared from the gloom behind the tuxedoed vigilante. The man’s mouth stretched into a savage grin not unlike that of the Haunter hovering over his left shoulder. “That’s just rude.” He thrust his cane out in front of him. “Get them!”
The Phantom’s spectral legion surged forth, a tide of ghost types sweeping down the alley towards the criminals. Their ghostly babbling rose up in a chorus of shrieks and laughter as they bore down on Sal’s crew. The darkness behind the Phantom continued to ripple as more and more ghosts poured out, filling the night sky with a screen of gnashing fangs, glowing eyes, and flicking ghostly fires.
“RUN!” Sal bellowed. Vito shot into the sky with a cacophony of rattling feathers as the ragged remains of his crew turned tail in the face of the Phantom’s ghostly legion. The ghosts’ eerie cries intensified as their prey fled before them, and the Phantom simply laughed as his pokemon surged forward.
Viktor’s partner was seized by a Spiritomb, and a trio a Sableye fell on him with keening shrieks of glee. “Yevgeny!” Viktor roared, but Sal seized the big man’s arm and dragged him along.
“We can’t save him! He’s as good as gone!”
Yevgeny’s Heracross charged at the ghost types, but before he could get close, he was snatched up in the claws of the biggest Haunter Sal had ever seen and hurled back towards the dark veil. The Phantom’s Dusknoir swept forward and caught the Heracross in a bear hug, dragging it back into the darkness, and the bug type vanished.
Sal dodged around a shrieking Banette and saw Gluttony’s hacker and his Medicham dragged into the black void behind the Phantom. He kicked and struggled against the Haunter that grabbed him, but as soon as his head was pulled into the darkness, his struggling abruptly ceased. The Mismagius that accompanied the thieves was set upon by three members of its own species, trying fruitlessly to repel a three-pronged psychic attack.
A Lampent darted in front of Sal, only to be blown away by a gust of wind from Vito. Sal grabbed Gian’s arm and pulled him out of the path of a cackling Gengar before sticking two fingers in his mouth and whistling. The sharp, piercing sound cut through the chaos and got the attention of the remnants of his crew. They formed up and managed to fight their way clear of the ghosts, and after a series of frantic turns, Sal started to get his bearings.
He spied a Volcarona flitting over the rooftops and pulled his ragged crew into a dark side street where they would be protected from Volcarona Mask’s gaze. The Warren was eerily quiet, the dejected residents hiding out of sight and keeping their heads down, reluctant to get caught in the heroes’ crossfire. A single hero in the Warren might have had a difficult time fighting against a crew of Sin operatives, and the people living there might have thrown in their lot with the Sins in the hope for a favorable kickback down the line. But when four of the city’s rising stars converged on the little district, the average lowlife saw the way the wind was blowing and stayed well out of the way.
While he caught his breath, Sal did a quick headcount of who was left. Viktor, Reina and her Carnivine, one of Envy’s thieves and his Ariados, Gian and Vito. Sal gritted his teeth and hefted the generator’s case with a quiet curse. He figured he was pretty strong, but the generator was at least seventy-five, eighty pounds, and he had been lugging it around most of the night. He was tempted to hand it off to Viktor, but he knew that if it came down to another fight, Viktor was much more skilled in arms than he was.
He leaned against the wall of the alley and sucked at his teeth. There was a safe house that some of Pride’s capos maintained nearby, with a passage that connected to the old smuggler tunnels in the basement. He figured if they could get there, they would be able to slip by the heroes, and he could get in contact with Pride’s people to drop the generator before going to ground until the next crisis hit Clarus City and people forgot all about him.
He was just about to brief his crew when a clatter on the rooftops made all of them snap their heads up. Sal muttered a silent prayer that it was just a feral dark type, but he doubted he would be so lucky. A dark shape shot across the sky, and Sal’s fight or flight instincts kicked in. Vito rattled his feathers as something made the fire escape above their heads clang. Envy’s thief pulled a knife. “If it’s another damn ghost, I swear I’ll…” He trailed off, and Sal privately wondered what good a knife would do against one of the Phantom’s ghosts.
Viktor raised his gun, and a black mass peeled off the shadows at the top of the fire escape and descended with a whoosh of broad wings. It dropped right in front of Viktor and brought up two metal batons, one on either side of the brute’s forearm. Viktor’s back stiffened as the air around the batons crackled, and the shadowy figure swiftly disarmed him and kicked the gun between Viktor’s legs, where it spun off into the shadows.
Before Sal could fully process what was happening, the dark figure had whirled on the thief with the knife and knocked him down with a roundhouse kick that sent the knife tumbling from his grasp. Sal caught a brief glimpse of white teeth beneath the man’s dark cowl as he settled into a fighting stance and put his back to the wall off the alley to keep from being outflanked. The disarmed thief snarled as he recovered his balance and charged in again. The shadowy figure’s hand shot out, quick as a striking Seviper, and the thief stumbled backwards, clutching his broken nose.
The Ariados leapt at the man in black, but it was tackled out of the air by a red and green blur. The Hawlucha shrieked as it slammed the arachnid into the ground before turning in a midair backflip to alight beside his partner. “I thought I lost you a few blocks back,” Hawlucha Man quipped. “Thanks for letting me catch up!”
Viktor had regained his wits and rushed at Hawlucha Man with a bellow. The hero was caught by surprise, and he hurriedly danced back from Viktor’s enraged charge. Hawlucha Man reached the edge of the fire escape and jumped up, wrapping his fingers around the metal grate and dragging his body up and out of Viktor’s path. Just as the man passed beneath him, Hawlucha Man dropped down and delivered a kick to the base of Viktor’s tailbone, sending him staggering out into the wider street at the end of the alley. He landed awkwardly, and while he tried to recover his balance, Reina’s Carnivine lashed out with a pair of vines, ensnaring Hawlucha Man’s right arm and left leg. His Hawlucha shrieked in anger, but before he could free his partner, Vito battered him with a wing, knocking the fighting type back. The Hawlucha stumbled across the uneven pavement before finding his footing and lunging at Vito as the Skarmory shot into the sky.
While the two birds battled back in forth in a flurry of flashing talons, the Carnivine pounced just as Viktor came in for another charge. Sal saw Hawlucha Man’s teeth flash again as the young man dropped his weight at the last possible moment. Reina’s Carnivine sailed over his head and collided with Viktor, and both of them tumbled in a heap. Envy’s thief charged in, but Hawlucha Man dispatched him with almost contemptuous ease, sending him crashing into the wall of the alley with graceful, flowing motions. He never even broke his stride.
Reina pulled a wickedly curved knife from her belt and swung wildly at Hawlucha Man, but the hero only stepped to the side as his partner swooped down behind the anarchist and struck her with a kick between the shoulder blades. The woman whirled on the Hawlucha with a growl, but the avian pokemon seized her arm in his talons and dug his claws into her wrist, hard enough to puncture the skin and draw blood. Reina dropped the knife with a scream.
Hawlucha Man continued forward and looked Sal in the eyes. “We can do this the easy way, where you give me the case because I asked nicely. Or we can do this the hard way, where I beat your ass and take it.”
Sal shook his head. “I’m more afraid of my boss than I am of you, kid.”
“Hard way it is, then.”
“You want my cousin? You’ll have to go through me first.” Gian pushed past Sal and spread his hands. The pokeball at his waist burst open, and an instant later, a Doublade had appeared, wrapping its lavender tassels around Gian’s wrists and forearms as the living blades settled into Gian’s hands. The Doublade hummed as Gian gripped its twin hilts. “Let’s go, Dantès.”
Hawlucha Man was suddenly forced onto the defensive as Gian swept forward, his blades flashing with a spectral inner light. Hawlucha Man managed to bring up his steel batons and meet the Doublade blow for blow, but he was quickly losing ground as Gian forced him into a retreat. Sal’s cousin had a longer reach than the young vigilante, and Dantès’ blades added about two feet to that. Hawlucha Man’s attacks relied on him getting in close to his foes and dispatching them with a series of lightning-quick strikes, but Gian and Dantès wove a curtain of steel before them that not even Hawlucha Man could breach.
Still, Sal had to admit he was amazed Hawlucha Man was holding his own. His cousin was undoubtedly the best Honedge fencer in the city, and while that might be a narrow superlative, any street brawler worth his salt spoke the name Gian Genovese with the sort of quiet reverence usually reserved for Arcean shepherds talking about their parish’s patron saint. He could hardly believe his eyes when Hawlucha Man managed to slip through Gian’s guard and score a touch with his baton on Dantès’ left tassel. Gian cried out as his arm suddenly went numb, buying Hawlucha Man precious seconds to breathe.
Claws skittered across pavement as Hawlucha Man’s pokemon partner sprinted to the hero’s side, just in time to drive an uppercut into Viktor’s solar plexus as Greed’s man tried to flank Hawlucha Man. The Carnivine lashed out with another tendril, but Hawlucha Man was too savvy to fall for the same trick twice. He twisted his wrist just as the vine began to ensnare his arm, dropping one baton into his Hawlucha’s waiting talons while he seized the vine with his now-free hand and jerked the Carnivine off balance. With a grunt of effort, Hawlucha Man pivoted on his heel and spun to gather momentum before hurling the Carnivine into the Ariados and its human partner.
He used his remaining baton to fend off Gian while his Hawlucha vaulted over his shoulders, tossed the hero his baton back, and then struck his claws together to set his fists ablaze. The Hawlucha spread his wings and soared upwards to where Vito now circled, startling the Skarmory with an explosive punch.
Sal had heard rumors from some of Pride’s other capos about the winged hero from Avenbrooke. They said that despite his unassuming stature, the kid hit like a truck and moved faster than the eye could track, that Hawlucha Man could take down any ten of Richelieu’s best cutters at the same time without breaking a sweat, that he knew no fear, felt no pain, and that he was possibly even a literal superhuman. Sal had always assumed that those rumors were exaggerations, excuses made by a bunch of incompetents who had been taken by surprise and let their guards down who were trying to save face in front of their superiors.
But now he was a believer.
Hawlucha Man swept Viktor’s legs out from underneath him, and the big man went down. In the second he danced back to catch his breath, Gian seized his opening and swung down with both blades, and Sal knew Hawlucha Man wouldn’t have time to block. Gian knew it too, and his cousin’s face split into a grin.
A grin that quickly faded as Dantès crashed down on an elegant rapier. The Phantom swung his blade around and sent Gian stumbling off-balance. He glanced over his shoulder at Hawlucha Man. “We have got to stop meeting like this.”
Hawlucha Man flashed him a grin as the Phantom countered Gian’s counterstrike with a riposte that darted through the whirling Doublade and sent Sal’s cousin staggering back wrong-footed. The Phantom’s rapier flashed under the streetlights as he and Gian battled back and forth. Dantès’ edges glowed with spectral light, and the Doublade’s spectral buzz grew in intensity. Gian barked out a laugh as he swept down with his right blade.
There was a rush of air as the Doublade’s buzzing was drowned out by a deep basso hum. The Phantom’s Dusknoir had appeared from the tuxedoed hero’s shadow and stopped the descending sword between its broad palms. “How… How did you?” Gian spluttered.
A pulse of black energy burst from the Dusknoir’s antenna, and Dantès jerked Gian backwards in an effort to avoid the Dark Pulse. With Gian wrong-footed, Hawlucha Man swept out from behind the Phantom and jabbed both of his batons into Gian’s ribs and unleashed a powerful electrical current. Sal’s cousin went rigid as the shock coursed through his body. Hawlucha Man disengaged and danced back a pace, but Gian’s reprieve was short-lived. The Phantom appeared at Hawlucha Man’s side, and the two heroes lashed out with punches at the same instant. The twin impacts snapped Gian’s head back, and he fell to the pavement with a groan.
Sal was about to turn tail and run when the music began again.
“Stand by night and heed the call of the fight
Let your minds go wild before the light
Here we stand, the army of the night!”
The Phantom’s ghostly legion bubbled up from the shadows in the nearby alleys as a sonic boom rattled every window in its frame for a two block radius. The ear-piercingly loud wail of a lone electric guitar made Sal clench his teeth, even as the sonic pulse froze him in place. Echo’s Loudred and Exploud crashed down from the rooftops on opposite sides of the street, directing their sonic amplification towards the ragged remnants of Sal’s crew. Sal saw the Exploud suck in a breath, the pipes along the behemoth’s body whistling with the sudden intake of air.
“Lined up side by side and bound we stay
Sent to defy and fight ‘til break of day,
We’re the army of the night, so best you pray!”
Echo stood at the head of the street, her platinum blonde hair flying behind her like a banner as she called down another sonic assault. The Phantom’s ghosts seemed unaffected by the pulsing sound waves generated by her pokemon as they darted in the air above the intersection, howling and screaming with the music. Viktor struggled to his feet and tried to stagger towards Echo, to what end, Sal didn’t know.
Before the man had even gone a pace, a column of blisteringly hot air laid him flat, singeing Viktor’s clothes and hair. A figure clothed in white dropped from the sky, metal quarterstaff whipping around in graceful loops. Volcarona Mask landed with a kick to Viktor’s tailbone and clocked him upside the head with her staff. “You just don’t know when to stay down, do you, big guy?” Reina’s Carnivine lunged at her, only to driven back by a cascade of fiery scales from the Volcarona flitting through the air above them. Volcarona Mask flashed her partner a smile as she used her staff to hurl the Ariados into the Exploud’s waiting fist.
Reina snarled some incomprehensible string of profanity as she fumbled two aerosol cans from her belt. She pulled the pins at the top and covered her mouth as she rolled them down the street towards the heroes. The cans hissed and began to release thick clouds of noxious green gas. “Archangel, you’re on!” Volcarona Mask shouted.
The esper descended and stretched out his hands towards the aerosol cans. The gas they had emitted began to curl back in on itself as the bombs were wrapped in telekinetic bubbles. Archangel snapped his fingers, and the noxious green orbs rocketed skyward. When they had all but vanished from sight overhead, the esper closed his hand into a fist. The two cans clattered back harmlessly to earth, their poisonous contents spent and dissipated harmlessly into the upper air. Reina had drawn her knife and charged, only for the esper’s eyes to flash with a subtle inner light. All of Sal’s people and their remaining pokemon were seized by an invisible force and hurled backwards in random directions, crashing into masonry and light posts.
“Vito!” Sal shouted from where he fell. “Time for Plan B!” His Skarmory lurched into the air and shot over his head as Sal hurled the generator’s case skyward. The steel type caught it deftly in his claws before slashing its way through the screen of ghost types. The Volcarona tried to give chase, but Vito had too much of a head start. Sal sagged backwards against the wall he had collided with and sighed. He wouldn’t be able to avoid a trip across the harbor to Redstone after this, but at least Vito would get the generator to the boss. Even if he was in prison, the Sins found ways to reward those who delivered.
A shriek cut through the din of the ghosts, and Sal saw the damned Hawlucha sprinting over the rooftops. The fighting type leapt and spread its wings wide, flapping madly to gain lift and catch up to Vito. “Aethon!” Volcarona Mask shouted. “Give him a boost!” The Volcarona beat its massive wings, sending a gale out to carry the Hawlucha higher and faster.
“No!” Sal cried. They had come too far to fail, and he silently urged Vito onward. For a second, it seemed like the Skarmory would outpace the Hawlucha, but the fighting type thrust its fists backwards and unleashed two explosive bursts of flame that hurled it forward, giving it just the speed boost it needed to overtake Vito.
The struggle, such as it was, was brief. The Hawlucha rocketed into Vito and drove one fiery fist up underneath the Skarmory’s razor-edged wing. The blow knocked Vito off balance and sent him plummeting, and the Hawlucha hastened Vito’s descent with a kick just between his wing joints.
The Hawlucha glided back to his human partner, his feathers puffed with pride. The Phantom’s Dusknoir slipped briefly away and returned a moment later carrying Vito’s fainted form, depositing the Skarmory on the opposite side of the intersection from Sal. A police helicopter swooped overhead, aiming a brilliant spotlight down on the confluence of streets, and officers had begun appearing from the wider streets of the Warren to take Sal and his crew into custody. With a snap of the Phantom’s fingers, Yevgeny and the other members of Sal’s crew that had been consumed by his Dusknoir tumbled out from the shadows, bound and trussed up, and they too were escorted to the waiting police wagons.
Sal could only watch in mute despair as two officers claimed the generator case from the Dusknoir to take into custody. Despite his best efforts, he had failed his mission, and he had been in the business long enough to know what the price of failure was.
Little did Sal know that within the next twenty-four hours, the case would mysteriously disappear from the evidence lockup of the Sixth Precinct, spirited away to Dominion.
Alex watched as the criminals were led away, and couldn’t help feeling a swell of satisfaction. Certainly, they weren’t the hardest bunch of crooks he had brought down, but they had put up a good fight. Lust’s information on the heist had been good, and it allowed him to coordinate with the other heroes to set an ambush. The coalition between the five heroes had been a resounding success, and Alex hoped that word would quickly spread through the underworld and serve as a warning that the heroes would now be working in concert.
The last time the five of them had all worked together was the Sins’ assault on the city, although they had each teamed up a few times in the intervening months. But when all five of them were working together, Alex felt like they were unbeatable. He ran a hand through Hierro’s feathers and allowed himself a smile.
Edgar was finishing up a debriefing with Captain Ito of the Sixth when Alex joined up with the other heroes. He exchanged a high five with Joshua (although considering the esper was using his telekinesis to levitate two feet off the ground, it was a low five for him) and bumped fists with Ingrid before doing a complicated handshake with Isabelle that she had developed for them on one of their patrols a few weeks back.
“Who kicks ass?” Isabelle asked as they tapped their fists together twice in the penultimate gesture in the handshake.
“We kick ass,” Alex replied as they clasped hands, finishing out the maneuver with a quick fist bump.
“Hell yeah we do!” Isabelle turned to Ingrid. “So I was thinking that for our handshake we can…”
The soft tread of Edgar’s patent leather shoes made Alex turn around. Alex grinned. “Thanks for the save back there. I owe you one.”
“Another one,” Edgar corrected. Then his mouth quirked up in a wry half smile, and he extended his right hand. “You did well out there. I was almost impressed.”
"Almost, huh?" Alex returned the handshake. “You're not too shabby yourself, Fancypants.”
Joshua drifted down so that he was only hovering a few inches off the ground, more or less on eye level with the rest of the heroes, and slung an arm over Alex’s shoulders. “We should do this more often. Those guys had no idea what hit them.”
Isabelle rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on Archangel. You only say that because the birdbrain talked Jiro into letting you come along.” It was no secret that Jiro, Lakshmi and Johannes had always been reluctant to let Joshua partake in the heroes’ usual nightly patrols because of the potential destructiveness of his psychic powers, and that wariness had only increased when Dominion took over the city. But Alex had managed to convince Jiro that having Archangel make an appearance in their operation tonight would pay dividends in the underworld by giving the Sins’ rank and file another class three esper to fear.
Joshua shrugged. “I always enjoy the chance to get some fresh air.”
Edgar wrinkled his nose and glanced around the darkened streets of the Warren. “This is not what I would call ‘fresh’.”
“The H-Hammer th-thinks the f-five of us help Clarus C-City h-have hope,” Ingrid said. “W-We should d-do this m-more often; it g-gives people s-something to believe in.”
Alex grinned at her. “Exactly! The heroes of Clarus City have been fighting the Sins for years, but we’ve never had a team of heroes before. The five of us together can take on anything, and it’s time that the city knew that!”
“A team of superheroes?” Edgar raised an eyebrow. “What do you think this is, some kind of kid’s TV show?” Ingrid and Isabelle glared at him, and the tuxedoed hero demurred, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. “But I suppose a helping hand never hurts.”
Alex looped his left arm around Joshua’s shoulder and used his right hand to smooth down Hierro’s feathered crest, drawing a pleased coo from his partner. Alex met each of the other heroes’ eyes in turn. “The Hammer says to always bet on the heroes of Clarus City, right?” He grinned, and the feeling of fierce joy surging through him helped push aside the minor aches and pains in his muscles. “I think it’s time the five of us start evening the odds.”
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Post by admin on Mar 2, 2019 2:16:36 GMT
So this is kinda sorta a response to something you said in your review to Avenbrooke Blues, but to get right to the point, absolutely, the biggest thing that intrigues me about this fic is the characters. Yeah, I know. I mean, yes, your action scenes are fun, and your plot feels like it’s been really getting off the ground since you introduced Dominion, but, like … I just need to take a second to talk about the characters. They’re just that interesting. That and everyone else has already covered the action territory, haha. To get right down to it, I just. Like the way you handle your background characters. It’s rare to see a work in which the secondaries, the backgrounds, and so on are just so vibrant, with deep backstories and understandable motivations. This is doubly so in fic, where no offense to anyone, of course, but you just don’t have many people who are trained in juggling that many balls at one time, so to speak. What I mean is that characterization is a difficult thing to nail down for your main cast, so a lot of the times in fic, you have minor characters who don’t really get all that much development. By contrast, you have Hawlucha Man, and I think the best example of this—or at least the one that strikes me the most—is the Gunslinger. Now, when I think of the Hawlucha Man main cast, I don’t think of the Gunslinger. It’s Hawlucha Man and Hierro. It’s Echo. It’s Phantom. It’s Volcarona Mask and Blaziken Man and Archangel and half a dozen other characters. It is not the Gunslinger. You just don’t see him interact with Alex as often as anyone else. Yet you know so much about him after that chapter where he gets the spotlight. You know about his backstory. You know how troubled he is and how everything he does is to basically fix his past mess-ups. You even get into his head and feel a little for him by the end of it. (Like, forreal, the chapter starts off by saying Wyatt knew he was a bad man, and given his motivation and just how gruff he is, he just has “I’m doing this because I’m dwelling on how terrible of a person I am, and this seems like a great way to make up for it” written all over him.) And this is a minor character. (One who might actually have been a villain had he not nearly gotten the crap beaten out of him in his apartment, so that’s fun.) So naturally, you get to see a lot of the rest of the cast, and it’s just fascinating because everyone feels not only developed but kinda slightly morally ambiguous people. Heck, even Stocks, a villain gets a nice little stroke of character development with the whole actually-kinda-noble revenge story motivation. It’s my firm belief, honestly, that a story is only as good as its characters. If you don’t have strong characters, you can have all the action in the world, and it will just come off as schlock. But if you have decent characters with interesting motivations, that’s when it gets fun. The other thing I liked about how you handled characters is also something you brought up: the idea that everyone has a choice. Again, you see this with Gunslinger, when he decides, “You know what? Eff this and eff the booze; I’m gonna beat people up like I should’ve done as a cop.” But also, this is a really loose segue into that mini essay about Volcarona Mask I’d promised and kinda wrote separately, haha. But really, she’s a great example of this in action too. It really hit me when we learned about her backstory, but basically, here’s the deal. When you think of genius millionaire playperson superhero who lost their parents as a child, you’d probably think of exactly two characters: Batman and Iron Man. And what’s fascinating about these two is they actually represent two possible outcomes characters who fit their exact profiles tend to fit into. You have Batman, who’s a playboy in person in order to hide the brooding, hyper-serious, genius detective that he actually is. Batman is focused on justice, on avenging his parents, on taking his job extremely seriously, 60s series notwithstanding. Then you have Iron Man, who is a playboy in both of his personas. Sure, Iron Man gets the job done and leads the Avengers effectively, but he’s very, very easily swayed by his emotions and approaches his objectives with lighthearted arrogance compared to Batman’s meticulousness. In other words, both are deeply affected by their parents’ deaths, but while Batman fixated on that until he became the hyper-serious, hyper-focused crime fighter we all know and kinda love, Iron Man’s affected by those deaths in that he never really learned how to cope or properly address his emotions or issues. The point is, though, that they are both very much affected by those deaths. Now, you’ve already talked about how the Phantom is still affected, and he is, and he’s … fun in his own right. But what really gets me is Volcarona Mask because of this: In other words … she got over it. I mean, one could probably argue that Batman is a little of the same, but let’s be real. He hasn’t. Isabelle, however, very clearly has. She’s actively decided that it’s not about cleaning up the city to avenge her parents or anything like that. It’s just because, you know, it’s the right thing to do. And, well, to be fair, it’s fun. But the point is, that’s a choice. Isabelle could walk away from this at any time. Likewise, she could choose to fixate herself on her parents’ death like Phantom had. But she doesn’t. She decides to be her own person and, in turn, be her own hero by rewriting her motivation and finding a positive, productive reason to be doing this. This is pretty rad for two reasons. First and most obviously, she serves as a pretty good foil to good ol’ Eddie. Like, reading these three paragraphs made the entirety of your beach episode side story make even more sense because, you know, deep down, probably Isabelle is the only one who really gets what Eddie is going through … and therefore is the only one qualified to drag Eddie to the beach for once in his life. (I’d like to think that’s a regular occurrence with them. Like, I don’t remember if you’ve ever established that those two hang out, but I’d like to think Isabelle absolutely tries.) But at the same time, it really highlights the nature of choice in your world because whereas Phantom falls into the same patterns as Batman and Iron Man, Volcarona Mask does not; thus, they’re essentially opposites of the exact same character archetype, which is just. Fascinating to watch. Second and kinda in response to what was said on Discord a while back, I just think it’s hilarious that every time you see a genius billionaire orphan superhero, it’s a dude who uses his parents’ death as their entire motivation, but then you have Volcarona Mask, a woman, who’s like, “Nah, I just like beating people up. And it’s for the greater good. But mostly, I like beating people up.” Like, sure, that first chapter is a little shaky in terms of female representation because the only named female character gets beaten up and handcuffed with fuzzy cuffs, but then you have Volcarona Mask, one of the most respected heroes of Clarus City, waltz in and say, “I’m not only physically strong; I’m emotionally strong too.” (For that matter, I like the idea that she’s just super-chill to civilians. The bodega scene was just great.) Actually, late warning, but I guess you can say that chapter really stuck with me for several reasons. Not only was it because of the characterization, but it also brought up something else. Aaaaand now for the crit, in other words. See, the only real crit I have is about the morality. You have a lot of fascinating stuff going on with morals. I mean, just scroll back up to the Gunslinger. Dirty cop redeeming himself just because he got jumped in his apartment? That’s, like, morality whiplash in a sentence. I mean … dirty cop = bad, former dirty cop redeeming himself by being a crimefighter = good, and former dirty cop redeeming himself by being a crimefighter just because he was personally threatened = uhhhhh… *puts a marker somewhere in the vague middle of the good-bad spectrum* But really, the biggest question in terms of morality lie right there in the Volcarona Mask chapter. Let me pull out two excerpts to illustrate what I mean: The thing about these excerpts is that they’re very much coming from someone who’s well-to-do. You can easily say that it’s okay to create giant arboretums (read: unusable space to the public) right in the middle of the city if it’s for the greater good, but in the end … you’re kinda doing more harm than good if you’re not doing anything for the people you’re displacing. Alex ultimately has a really good point here. If it’s not the homeless people who no longer have places to live, it’s the impoverished who’re being priced out of homes. But the question is, if people are being forced out of their homes, where do they go once that happens? To Volcarona Mask, that isn’t a question that matters, but to someone like Alex, who advertises himself as a hero for the people, it really should be. That’s really the biggest thing about superheroes, though, isn’t it? They can only really exist in universes where that isn’t a question. Think of it like this. With Isabelle’s or Jiro’s money, the sort that goes into building armor and weaponry and running entire tech institutes, what would you be able to do? Probably establish effective nonprofits geared towards housing assistance or education in order to give the poor or homeless a chance. And if they did that, then Alex wouldn’t need to ask about the impoverished or homeless; they simply wouldn’t be a problem. However, if you do have a homeless or impoverished population, you can’t really shrug them off because they’re who the greater good is for. In order to establish a world where good prevails, you have to tackle all of the baseline problems. That doesn’t just mean crime. That also means helping those who need help the most, which usually means not the middle-class folks who live in safe neighborhoods. By pushing those people out and making it difficult for them to live (even by taking up space that could be converted into supermarkets, educational facilities, or other things lower-income neighborhoods probably need more than an arboretum), you’re actually kinda doing more harm than good to your city. Doubly so because let’s just say homeless shelters are not very great places to be … and that’s if you can even get into one. Which is to say probably the homeless have nowhere to go unless the Dryad’s pokémon don’t mind sharing a forest. Which then cycles back into other fun things because let’s also just say that tent cities are likewise not great places to be. Anyway, the point is … that Alex has a good one. Like, he has a really excellent point. That is a really good question there, and I actually kinda hope that he thinks more about this and doesn’t allow him to just be satisfied with Volcarona Mask’s answer. As we’ve established with people like Gunslinger, Ronin, even a little bit with Volcarona Mask herself (with the whole “punching people is fun, kids”), it’s possible for heroes to be morally in the wrong. It’s possible for them to do things for shady reasons, and it’s possible for them to be oblivious to the main point of crimefighting. Alex, meanwhile, has always been a bit more of a beacon of justice. From the first chapter, he’s been about being the average hero, and I’d even argue that his motivations are a lot more noble than half of the cast. So if anyone should stop and think, “Hey, what if this thing that the heroes are doing is objectionable and harming the exact people I’ve dedicated myself to protecting,” it’d probably be him. And honestly, you’ve been building him up to have these kinds of moral questions anyway. He is, after all, the focus character, and part of writing a hero’s story is addressing the whole good-bad dichotomy (even if it’s a hella complicated matter, as Alan Moore has argued in both Watchmen and V for Vendetta). That and I’m sure it would be interesting to see Alex fully delve into that argument either way, considering how much he idolizes the hero community and how much they’ve essentially adopted him within a few chapters. On that note, I have one last thing to talk about, and that’s Pierre. It ties in so neatly with Alex’s morality because it often feels as if Pierre is basically an embodiment of that. I have to admit, though, that I’m not sure how I feel about Pierre. I can definitely see some potential in his character—and, in fact, that’s honestly my biggest suggestion: to develop him a bit further. The reason why I say this is because I can kinda see his source. Like, he’s basically Alex’s equivalent of that one scene from Justice League Unlimited. But the thing about that scene—the key to why it works—is the clear backstory between these characters. Although the scene is self-contained, you understand immediately from both visual cues and the way James and the Flash interact with each other. It’s not really a one-way street. There’s a conversation going on, which implies not only a rapport but a deep rapport—stuff with history. This is to say that you can show a character—even a recurring character—without offering up their whole backstory, and the readers can absolutely get what’s going on. But in order to build that three-dimensional relationship, there has to be a back and forth. With Pierre, it’s a bit tricky. A lot of the time, he seems a little too zoned out or otherwise mentally displaced or distracted, so he doesn’t respond to Alex in a meaningful manner to establish the nuances of their relationship. Consequently, Pierre ends up coming off as more of an objective than his own character—something that Alex needs to worry about and use as an argument for why it’s important to clean up Clarus City. However, if we knew more about Pierre’s backstory and saw him reacting more to Hawlucha Man, then his relationship with Alex will become clearer, and those scenes with Pierre will go from being a simple morality argument to scenes that highlight Hawlucha Man’s senses of compassion and justice (just as the above-linked scene highlights those qualities in the Flash). In other words, what I’m saying is that maybe out of all the characters in Hawlucha Man, the one that could use a bit more strengthening is ironically Hawlucha Man himself. That isn’t to say he’s a weak or terrible character. You’ve actually laid a lot of the foundation as it is. I’m just saying that if Alex is given more opportunity to ask those big questions about the little people he’s protecting, then that will strengthen his characters and motivation, which will in turn actually support that entire notion of choice that we were talking about earlier. After all, if we see his motivations and his relationships to the common people/civilians strengthen, then that will make his decision to be Hawlucha Man all the more important, prominent, and deeper. You would actually end up with a title character who straight-up embodies everything you’ve been trying to say all along about what it means to be a superhero. So six pages of excessive talking in short, characters, man. There are a lot of fun ones here. |
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Post by Firebrand on Mar 2, 2019 18:18:11 GMT
minty, re: the morality thing: I mostly agree with you there, and that's something I've been intentionally trying to pull out and make the reader a little uncomfortable about. Because yeah, you do have these heroes who are very well-to-do (like, the three richest people in the city, who all have controlling interests in the three biggest corporations and economic engines in the city), and then you have another class of hero, like Alex, Echo, the Ronin, the Gunslinger, etc., who don't really have the means to tackle these larger looming socio-economic issues, and there are several points (and several more to come) where Alex and a few of the other heroes think something to the effect of "I can't fix the underlying problems in the city that allowed the Sins to happen, but I can beat up enough bad guys to make other bad guys think twice about exploiting those conditions." I've always had this fic set up on a three arc structure, where the first arc was intended to immerse the reader in this city, establish the status quo that this is a setting where heroes and villains regularly duke it out in the streets. Once the reader was accustomed to the idea of pokemon world superheroes and get them hooked with the characters and some cool action sequences, the second arc (starting with Dominion's takeover) was intended to continually ramp up the stakes until things hit a breaking point (which happens in this week's chapter and culminates in Chapter 28, a few weeks from now). Then the third arc was going to tie up those narrative threads, and really get into the idea that for the day to be saved, for good, the city needs to change. One thing that's been tough about this fic is balancing the action I want to write and the character sketches I want to explore with the high-octane plot and also these more subtle things moving largely in the subtext. So in a sense, you're supposed to feel like there's something not quite right here, and that something's missing. Alex isn't really thinking about it much because he's fighting for his life too often to stop and say "Maybe we should improve society somewhat," but that's coming once the second arc crashes to a close and the third arc starts. There's also the fact that this is primarily a shonen-inspired action hero story where characters can temporarily violate the laws of physics if they're cool enough, and I don't necessarily want to get into a lengthy treatise on economic morality and social mobility, since it would bring the careening train of the story to a screeching halt. The closest I wanted to come for a little while was Volcarona Mask and Hawlucha Man's conversation, where the story can acknowledge that these are the underlying issues as to why they have to be superheroes, but also that there's a mind-controlling psychopath running around, and the priority is on stopping her before they work on affordable housing programs. But that stuff is coming, it's just that it's been hard to strike the balance for it in the second arc, and I've been more concerned with addressing it in the third when a lot of things come crashing down, and Alex is in more of a position to start making some hard choices, rather than being swept away in the action. As for Pierre... I'm kind of with you on that one. He's been in the story from the get-go, but as the fic has gone on, I've found it difficult to find scenes where his presence is appropriate, and also keep him from becoming a stagnant character. I wanted most of his and Alex's history to be relegated to the backstory, and for Pierre to be the cast member most negatively effected by the gradual collapse of the city. He's really the result of the failure of these social programs that continually let him down, and he just sort of gave up and decided "well, the bad guys are the ones keeping me fed, so I guess I'm a bad guy now." Again, I have more planned for him in arc 3, and he was mostly absent in this arc because the Baron receded to the background while the focus turned to Dominion, but that focus is going to adjust soon. As I wrote this fic, I started to realize that the best way to tell the story it wants to tell would have been in a 45 minute TV show, where 20 minutes could focus on one group of characters in the A plot (so for example, Alex and a couple other heroes stopping a villain), another 15 minutes could focus on a second group in the B plot (The Baron using Pierre to chip away at Dominion's hold in Greenpoint), while a third group had a 10 minute C plot (the Shadow uncovering the next phase of Dominion's plot on a heist). That would have enabled me to juggle a few more balls, so to speak, and flesh out more of the ensemble cast. I don't like to POV hop in chapters, and avoid it unless it's completely necessary, so I introduced the spotlight chapters to help with that (the conceit behind those being that on a given week, the Hawlucha Man comic book was on a break, so the reader picked up a Gunslinger book or an Echo book to bide their time, with occasional cameos between books that built to a big crossover crisis). While I think that model has worked, overall, being able to have a few minutes per "episode" to focus on the bad guys POV in a B or C plot might have helped to flesh out some of this stuff more, but I'm a bit limited by the medium. If I were to try something like that in written form, I think it would make the overall plot too convoluted and twisty, so I ultimately made the decision to focus mostly on Alex, with the occasional insight into other characters, sometimes at the expense of a few POVs. I realize a lot of this is me just saying "Wait for arc 3  ", but I do value the input. In hindsight, I probably could have balanced some of these subtextual things better, but at the time of writing it felt right for the plot to keep chugging along. I do plan to tie up these loose threads and make the characters have these discussions at some point, but I do worry that I might wind up doing it in a clumsy way. It's going to make arc three a little more difficult to write than the previous two, for sure. And I think no matter how I do it, I won't wind up doing it in a satisfactory way, just because these are big questions, and I like to leave some things at the end of the story unresolved. For all of Jiro and Isabelle's money, they can't fix Clarus overnight, and I want to leave the characters things to work on even after the curtain falls. But tl;dr, it's good you're picking up on these things, and they will be dealt with in some capacity in the final third of the fic. Thanks for taking the time to review!
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Post by Firebrand on Mar 2, 2019 18:23:05 GMT
Chapter 26 Sergei Polovich’s breaths came in ragged gasps as he sprinted for all he was worth. The echoes of gunfire were drawing closer, and his mind raced as he tried to think of a way to escape with his life. He had to assume that if his pursuers knew one of his safe houses, they would know where his other bolt holes were. The best he could hope for was to find a place to go to ground until morning and get himself out of Clarus City until the dust settled. Or maybe for good, with the way the winds were turning. In his haste, he took a wrong turn, but to stop and double back would probably prove fatal as his pursuers closed in. Polovich had been lucky to escape in the first place, and six of his trusted capos hadn’t been so lucky. It was clear that the ambush had been planned from someone inside the organization. Polovich was no stranger to inter-faction fighting, and he knew that honor among thieves was a sham. But he had never expected the betrayal he had been faced with. A baying Mightyena heralded the arrival of a second ambush to head him off. Polovich hurled out a pokeball in front of him, and Polina appeared in a burst of light. The Bastiodon needed no command from her trainer, and lowered her head as she charged forward. The Mightyena and the two cretins who ran behind it were struck with the full force of a charging steel type and hurled unceremoniously to the pavement as Polina barreled onwards. When they reached a neighborhood Polovich knew, a plan started to form. There was a warehouse only two blocks away with an entrance to the old network of smuggling tunnels under the city. He could let the traitors catch up to him there and then use Maksim to bring the whole place down on their heads while he slipped away into the tunnels before collapsing the entrance behind him. This particular access point connected to a much larger tunnel complex that he could hide out in at least until he could get on a train north to Unova. And from there, he could go anywhere in the world, and the bastards would never find him again. He barked a command to Polina, and the Bastiodon swung her head around to change directions. By the time they reached the warehouse and Polovich had shot the padlock on the door, he was wheezing. He had never been built for speed, but a man found himself capable of many things when his life was on the line. When he had identified the trapdoor to the underground, he called out Maksim to stand with Polina. The Metagross braced itself by driving its heavy claws into the stone floor. The steel cross on its face glowed as it summoned its psychic power, ready to attack or defend. Polovich laid his hand on Maksim’s rear right leg and felt the mysterious inner workings of the Metagross humming under his touch. With a nod to his partners, he drew his gun and leveled it at the door. He might be able to pick off a few as they came in, thin the numbers and— The front of the warehouse exploded, throwing debris back towards Polovich. Maksim’s eyes flashed, and a wall of interlocking translucent hexagons appeared in front of the three of them. The violence of the explosion quickly dissipated, and Polovich glared across the ruined expanse of the warehouse at Anya Petrovna. “I am knowing you too well, Sergei,” Greed said as she raised her machine gun. “When backed into corner, you bring down the building; so I am taking that away from you.” She signaled to her men standing behind her, and they all raised their guns. Her Ursaring bellowed, spreading claws stained red with fresh blood. Polovich gritted his teeth. “What are you doing, Anya? I am your friend, your trusted Iron Boyar!” Something in Petrovna’s face twitched, and suddenly Polovich knew. “It’s her, isn’t it?” he shouted. “The psychic bitch! She has poisoned you!” “Shut up, Sergei. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” “Fight her! The Petrovna I pledged myself to would never be so weak as to bow to an unworthy esper!” “Shut up!” Anya screamed. “This is bigger than us! Dominion will allow no dissent in the ranks. There is a list of those who will not accept her. Even if it is only in their minds.” She sighed. “It is because you were my trusted boyar that I must be doing this myself.” She sighted down the barrel of her gun. “If only you hadn’t been such a headstrong ass. I wish it did not have to be this way, Sergei. But for Dominion, it is personal. It is always personal.” She lowered her hand, and she and her men began firing. The bullets bounced off Maksim’s psychic barrier, but each impact left a tiny spider web of cracks, and it took almost no time at all for the wall to shatter into hundreds of glowing shards that drifted to the scarred ground. Polina bellowed and charged forward, only to stopped by two Machoke. The fighting types drove their heels into the ground and pushed back against the Bastiodon. Just when it seemed like Polina might win out, the two Machoke drew back their fists and struck Polina’s shield-like carapace hard enough to crack it. Polina roared in pain as the Machoke continued to strike with ruthless, methodical persistence. Maksim’s eyes flashed as it hurled the fighting types back, but Polina was already lying prone. Polovich shouted a wordless command, but Maksim understood his fury. It sent vibrations down through its legs and into the ground, knocking several of Greed’s men from their feet and buying them precious seconds. But Anya’s Ursaring recovered quickly and charged forward before Maksim could strike again or throw up another defensive barrier, closing the distance between them with uncanny speed. The bear rose up to its full, massive height and raised its heavy arms above its head before bringing them crashing down on Maksim’s central disk with enough force to shatter thick concrete. The Metagross’ eyes went wide and it emitted a strange low groan as it crashed to the ruined floor, its legs prone and almost limp. “No,” Polovich rasped. And then louder, “No!” He raised his gun and fired off several shots wildly. A few went wide, but two or three struck the Ursaring. The pokemon’s thick hide spared it lasting damage, and the bullets seemed to only irritate it. Polovich ground his teeth and turned his gun on Anya. His aim was off, and he only winged her shoulder, not nearly enough to bring her down. The Ursaring roared when he saw the blood blossom on his trainer’s arm, but Greed held up her good hand. “No, Stepa. Let me handle this.” As she closed the distance between them, Polovich raised his gun again, but when he pulled the trigger, the hammer only clicked ineffectually. Petrovna shook her head. “Sergei, you were always forgetting to count your shots.” Her own gun rattled as she fired several shots through Polovich’s abdomen. The pain nearly made him black out, but Polovich managed to glare up into Petrovna’s eyes and spit out a foul oath in their shared mother tongue. “I’ll see you in hell, Anya.” “Until then, Sergei.” And after another spray of bullets, the Iron Boyar was dead. ***
Stocks hated getting his hands dirty. When he had joined up with Marcus Braun, it had been with the understanding that he would be handling the quieter behind the scenes work, doing the enterprise’s accounting and transferring money around offshore accounts. He would help Marcus move their pieces around the chessboard that was Clarus City while the more rough-and-tumble members of their organization took care of the unpleasant day-to-day business. He had no such understanding with Dominion, though his new employer had recognized his value early on as armchair commander. But tonight, she had dispatched him to personally take care of some unpleasant business that entailed him rolling up his sleeves and going out into the muck. It was distasteful in the extreme, but he wasn’t in a position where he could refuse. For one thing, Marinette didn’t take kindly to anyone questioning her orders, and furthermore, Stocks couldn’t afford to show any lack of resolve for the esper’s cause, because to do so would bring suspicion on himself. Dominion had told him and the other five former Sins that she had been tracking down whispers of insubordination and treachery within her organization, and she was determined to stomp it out immediately before the cancer could take root. That meeting had been merely hours ago, and Stocks had received his marching orders to expunge a few of Dominion’s naysayers within his own ranks of informants. There had been no time to send word to Pirozzi or the Avenbrooke heroes to warn them of the citywide bloodbath to come. The orders had been disseminated on a strict need to know basis, and had word reached the defenders of Clarus City prior to the massacre, Dominion would have known she had a mole at the highest level of her organization. Stocks was reasonably confident that his cover was secure, and that his mental shielding had been able to stand up to Dominion’s probing, but he was secretly terrified that while he carried out his orders, Marinette had sent someone to stick a knife in his back too. Besides, he rationalized that the heroes would learn about the Sin infighting soon enough, when the streets of Clarus began running red with the underworld’s blood. He stood outside one of the clubs he owned and used his thumb to twist his gold wedding band in the pocket of his tailored slacks. With a sigh, he signaled to Mueller’s three bruisers to follow him. Marinette had offered him the use of some of Aukai’s lot, but he had politely declined and requested some of Eva’s more dependable hired help. The anarchists were more than likely to burn the entire club down in their zeal, while thugs under Gluttony’s employ could be counted on to only break what they were told. It wasn’t like the whole club had to be razed. Stocks never believed that a few bad apples spoiled the whole bunch. The bouncer at the door demurred at a glare from Stocks’ escort, and the leading man threw the gilded doors open. He raised his pistol and discharged three rounds into the air. “Everyone out!” the man roared, sending patrons and scantily dressed servers scrambling for the doors. Stocks snapped his fingers at the manager as she came to investigate the commotion. “Camilla, bring me Tiffany, Maryanne, Danae, and Marcel.” “Mr. Stocks, what’s going on? We had no idea you were coming, or we would have prepared—” He cut Camilla off with a dismissive flick of his wrist. “This is an audit. Do as I say.” “Yes, Mr. Stocks.” Camilla hurried backstage to find the four dancers, her Sableye scurrying at her heels. Stocks took the opportunity to reach over the bar and pour himself a generous measure of gin. His Xatu hop-flapped behind him and made a clattering noise with her beak. Stocks sighed. “I don’t like this any more than you do, Moira. Let’s not make it worse than it needs to be.” He tossed back the gin and winced. An unpleasant taste for an unpleasant business. Camilla appeared with the dancers, and Stocks signaled to his escort. The three men fired on the dancers, dropping them with shots through the head. Tiffany, Danae and Marcel were dead before they hit the sticky floor, but it took another shot to put Maryanne down. Camilla screamed as her dancers fell, and one of Eva’s men turned to Stocks. “Do you want us to…?” “No, I’ll handle this myself.” Camilla cradled Tiffany’s lifeless form and turned up to Stocks. “Why? Why would you do this? They were just—” “They were passing along information to law enforcement,” Stocks said, keeping his voice icy. “Management doesn’t appreciate trade secrets getting around.” He squatted down to look Camilla in the eyes and drew a pistol from under his jacket. “I know that they were collaborating with the police on your instructions, Camilla. Orders have come down from the top to clean house.” Camilla spat at him, and Stocks winced as the saliva ran down his cheek. “I was only doing what you told me to do,” she rasped. “You mustn’t tell such ugly lies, Camilla.” Stocks rose to his feet and leveled his gun. Camilla stared up at him with naked hatred, but Stocks found he couldn’t pull the trigger. “Moira,” he snapped. “Make it quick and painless.” The Xatu spread her wings, and Stocks felt a chill run up his spine. Camilla’s eyes rolled back in her head and her neck abruptly snapped at an improbably angle. The madam collapsed forward, her hair just brushing the polished leather of Stocks’ shoes. Stocks turned to his escort. “It’s done. Let’s move on to the next one.” As they exited the club, Stocks reached over the bar and took the translucent blue bottle of gin with him. It was going to be a long night. ***
Bri was starting to think it was time she took a long vacation, somewhere far, far away from Clarus City. A cat burglar always landed on her feet, but she knew that sooner or later her luck was going to run out. She just hoped that it would hold out long enough to get her out of the current predicament. She pressed her back up against the smooth wooden eaves of the Niji Kumo Temple and slowed her breathing as much as she was able. She had thought that with the Kuromori and the Sins at each other’s’ throats, she could slip into the temple and liberate a few artifacts out from under the ninja clan’s collective noses. After the assassins had started stomping around in Avenbrooke, the Baron had made it known that he would be willing to pay good money for anything that would embarrass Saito and Sukiyama. Her intel had told her that the temple would be empty but for a skeleton crew of Kuromori guards and the resident monks, but shortly after she had infiltrated the temple, the city’s underworld had imploded. Although the temple grounds were extensive and the main temple complex was set far back from the street, Bri could hear the commotion outside the temple. Sirens, explosions and gunshots echoed just outside the compound. Droves of Kuromori had begun pouring into the temple not long ago, and now scores of black-clothed assassins milled around on the temple floor. Bri was effectively pinned down, but she had begun to wonder if this wasn’t a blessing in disguise. With this many Kuromori around, she was probably safer than anyone else in Clarus City, provided she didn’t get caught. Alecto hovered in the air next to her, the ghost type’s eyes wide with panic. Apate crouched on the beam in front of Bri, her fur on end. Bri reached up slowly and ran her fingers along her Haunter’s hand. She felt the vapor that made up Alecto’s body congeal into something more solid, and the Haunter laced her fingers with her trainer. “It’s going to be okay,” Bri whispered to her pokemon. “We’re going to sit tight here until the party dies down, and then we’re going to sneak out when everyone else goes home. Easy-peasy.” A ripple passed through the crowd of ninjas below, and Bri saw Saito, Sukiyama and Tarou appear behind the temple altar. The giant gilded statue of Ho-oh loomed behind the Kuromori patriarch, and he raised his hands. “It seems that the Sins have turned on themselves. They fight each other in the streets, destroy their own safe houses. Dominion’s paranoia has led her to put the torch to her own organization.” Bri could hear the smirk that had crept into Saito’s voice, even if she couldn’t see it. “Make no mistake, this is a joyous occasion for us. When the Sins have crippled themselves, we will set them ablaze again with Ho-oh’s cleansing fire! We shall take back what is ours, and far more besides!” His Bisharp rattled its blades, and many other ninjas and pokemon below joined in the cheering. There was a crash as the heavy bolts to the temple doors were throw aside and the doors swung open with a pulse of psychic power. A shiver ran down Apate’s spine, and the Purrloin hissed. The Vixen strode into the temple, her Ninetales crouching at her heels. The woman’s polished wooden mask shone in the dim light of the temple, and the crowd parted before her. The steady click-click of stiletto heels against the cobblestones outside presaged the arrival of the Vixen’s companion, and Saito hissed in a furious breath. The Shadow couldn’t see her, but she recognized the esper’s oppressive presence from the chill that raised the hairs on the back of her neck. “Yuuko, what is the meaning of this?” Sukiyama snarled. “You would profane our most sacred sanctuary with this abomination?” The Vixen drew her poisoned knives and raised her gaze to meet her uncles’ eyes. “I have come to claim what is mine.” Saito slashed his hand through the air. “You have even less right than your mother did. The leadership of the clan has always passed through the male line!” He leaned across the altar. “You should have counted yourself lucky we let you live.” A mocking laugh echoed through the temple. “Saito dear, you should be grateful that at least someone in your family is able to see sense.” Bri’s breath caught in her throat as Dominion stepped into the temple, a troop of Pride’s elite capos and cutters at her back. “This is sacrilege!” Tarou roared. The Vixen ignored the outburst. “Uncles, you misunderstand. I am here to claim revenge for my mother’s death first and foremost. The leadership of the clan is only an added benefit.” “The clan will never follow you!” “Enough have cast their lot with me already. And when I am the last surviving member of the Kuromori family, the rest will have no choice.” Dominion glided forward and laid her hand on the Vixen’s arm. “She’s a clever girl, Saito. With the Kuromori joining my forces, I will have complete control of this city, and with my help, Yuuko will make the Kuromori stronger than ever before.” The esper snapped her fingers, and three assassins that had attempted to flank her were flung back to crash against the temple walls. She clicked her tongue. “Done talking, are we?” Bri could only watch as all of the assassins below drew their weapons and summoned their pokemon. But while many of the ninjas advanced on the Sin delegation, a significant number fell on their comrades. The Vixen shouted a command, and her Ninetales bounded forward through the crowd. Fire pooled around the Ninetales’ jaws, and the fox whipped up an inferno as it raced towards the altar. Saito’s Bisharp lunged, only to be consumed in a white-hot corona of flames. The Vixen’s daggers flashed as she danced through the crowd, dropping ninjas with a flick of her blades as the potent poison paralyzed her foes’ nervous system. Dominion’s cutters surrounded their boss, their guns ripping through the Kuromori. Bri watched as Tarou vaulted over the altar and charged into the melee with a roar. The Vixen was on him in seconds, darting past her cousin and plunging one dagger into his stomach. Tarou whirled on her, his eyes incredulous, and Yuuko opened his throat with a backhand slash. Sukiyama’s Crobat dove at her, only to be knocked out of the air by Dominion. As the Vixen advanced, Saito scrambled back against the statue of Ho-oh. “She’s made you into her creature! The bitch is pulling your strings!” “No,” Yuuko growled. She gestured to her Ninetales, and the fire type engulfed Sukiyama in a blast of intense flames. The reek of burning flesh mixed with the scents of blood and sandalwood incense, making Bri want to gag. The Vixen glanced to the side to confirm sure Sukiyama was dead before advancing on Saito. “Dominion isn’t controlling me. I’ve wanted this ever since you killed my mother.” She sheathed one dagger and grabbed Saito’s collar, hauling him to his feet before throwing him down on the altar. Two ninjas ran to help the clan patriarch, only to be blasted back by the Vixen’s Ninetales. The Vixen raised her knife over her head and paused. “Hesitating, Yuuko?” Dominion called. “Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts.” “Just savoring the moment,” the Vixen called back. Her eyes sparkled through the slits in her mask, and she plunged the dagger down into Saito’s heart. The spray of blood dappled her mask, and her Ninetales threw back its head and howled. Bri felt sick, and she saw Alecto shrink into herself. The Vixen raised her bloodstained dagger to the Ho-oh statue. “The Kuromori clan now answers to me!” A group of her traitorous fighters broke off and formed up around her as a bodyguard. “Drop your weapons and curb your pokemon!” Yuuko shouted over the din. “Pledge your loyalty to me and to Dominion, and I will let you live!” Some of the ninjas threw down their arms and surrendered, and those that continued to fight were quickly overwhelmed. Dominion walked through the carnage and mounted the steps to the altar. The esper extended her hand to the Vixen, and Yuuko lowered her head over Dominion’s palm in a gesture of fealty. “Well done,” Dominion said. “Now the war between my clan and your organization is finished.” Dominion shrugged. “Maybe so, but the real war is only just beginning.” She rested a hand on the side of the Vixen’s mask, the one not stained with her uncle’s blood. “With your help, I’ll bring this city to its knees.” Bri pressed herself back further into the shadowy eaves while the surviving Kuromori removed their dead, hoping to escape notice until the temple was clear. If she was smart, she would cut her losses get out of the city as quickly as possible, make a new start somewhere far away, like Sinnoh or Kalos. But Clarus City was her home, and she wasn’t going to stand by and let some psychic freak destroy it. Already, her mental gears were turning as she worked to leverage what she knew and how to pass the information along to the right ears. The damn birdbrain might make a white hat out of her yet. ***
The Ronin’s motorcycle roared as he swung around a tight corner. In the distance, another explosion thundered. People screamed as they fled their homes, as though they’d be any safer on the street. The Ronin gritted his teeth and gunned his bike, pouring on a burst of speed. The city was tearing itself apart, and he was powerless to stop it. Every cutter and murderer he took down just made room for the next one. When he had first become the Ronin, he had scratched a line onto the sheath of his sword for every criminal he cut down, and now the leather scabbard was a mess of tally marks. And still, the city wasn’t any safer. In all the confusion, he’d racked up three more kills tonight. The bastards had been on his list for a long time, and they were too canny for him to catch under normal circumstances. But with the Sins going to war with themselves and the Baron’s men out in force, he had seen a golden opportunity to cross out some names. Another explosion lit up the street in front of him in a brilliant flash. The Ronin swung his bike around to come to a skidding halt as the buildings nearby erupted in flames. Civilians raced out of the buildings, coughing and spluttering in the smoke. As he watched, a tenement house collapsed. Sirens blared all around, but none of the emergency services workers were on this street. The Ronin swung off his bike and spat. The people of Clarus City hadn’t done anything to deserve this. Provided they kept the fighting to the underworld, the Ronin was more than happy to let the Sins and the Kuromori and the Baron’s thugs bludgeon each other to death; one less criminal on the streets meant one less name on his list. But when innocent people were getting caught in the crossfire, that was when he had to put his foot down. He had seen enough civilian casualties overseas. He wasn’t a soldier anymore, but if his city was going to become a warzone, then he was going to take up arms to defend it. A pack of Wrath’s anarchists loped down the street, baying like Mightyena, reveling in the destruction they had caused. The Ronin planted his feet in the middle of the street and reached up to finger the hilt of his broadsword. He blew an errant strand of silver-gray hair from his eyes and settled into his stance. When the bombers started to close in, he drew the sword and cut deep into the leader’s neck in a single smooth motion. The other bombers started to draw their knives and guns, but the Ronin was faster. He slammed his sword into the gut of a second and drew the long knife he kept strapped to his thigh. He drove the smaller blade into the neck of a third before wrenching out his sword and slicing a single deep cut across the chest of the fourth, spilling his guts out onto the pavement before switching his grip and lopping off the bastard’s head. Sometime between his second and third strike, the Ronin heard Muramasa’s pokeball burst open. The Samurott blasted the anarchists’ Magmar with a torrent of water that lifted the fire type of its feet and doused any counterattack it might have launched before whirling on the Toxicroak that had leapt to the third bomber’s defense and impaling it through its midsection with his jagged horn. With a contemptuous toss of his head, Muramasa hurled the Toxicroak’s corpse into a nearby alley. The Ronin wiped the blood from his broadsword with an oiled cloth he had strung through two of his belt loops before sheathing it. The crowd of panicked citizens down the street watched in mute shock as he pushed his hair back and looked down on his handiwork. Any further reaction was cut off by a piercing scream from the third floor of one of the burning buildings. The Ronin peered into the smoke and saw two small figures standing near the open window, silhouetted against the flames. He strode forward and seized the arm of a hysterical woman. “Those your kids?” She shrank back from him, but nodded. The Ronin set his mouth into a hard line. The fire department was nowhere close, and they had other battles to fight. Those kids didn’t have time to wait. Well, the hell with it. He was no hero, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do the right thing. “Muramasa!” he barked. “Keep those fires away from the window. You, kid!” The Ronin snapped his fingers at a shell-shocked kid standing nearby with his Poliwhirl. “Give my Samurott a hand. And hold this.” He unbuckled his sword and tossed it underhand to the boy before untying his faded scarf and holding it out to Muramasa. His Samurott sprayed a gentle stream of water onto the cloth, and the Ronin wrapped the sodden scarf around his face. “Here goes nothing.” He charged up to the door of the tenement building and knocked it off its hinges with a tackle. The smoke burned his eyes as he turned around looking for the stairs. A stream of water shot past him, almost immediately evaporating into steam. “Gonna have to do better than that, Muramasa!” The Ronin made his way carefully to the stairs and started taking them two at a time, doing his best to ignore the searing heat and the smoke that was forcing its way into his lungs. “Come on,” he growled to himself. “You smoked a pack a day for years. This is nothing. This is goddamn amateur hour.” He pounded on each door he passed on the second floor landing, making sure no one else had been trapped by the fire. No responses, so he had to hope that no one had passed out from smoke inhalation. When he reached the third floor, his breathing was ragged, and he could feel the skin on his face blistering from the heat. He mentally counted off the doors until he reached the apartment he had seen from the outside and battered down the door. A wall of fire had spread through the front room, and he ran through the blaze, coming out on the far side with nothing more than some smoldering clothes that he hastily beat out. He tried to shout, but his voice came out as a rasp. He stumbled through the apartment, trying to find the kids he had seen from outside. A misshapen pile next to one of the windows stirred weakly as he reached the last room of the apartment, and the Ronin hastened over to it. The two children shrank back from his bloody, soot streaked face, clutching a catatonic Meowth. The Ronin raised his hands in a placating gesture. “I’m here to help,” he rasped. “I’m gonna get you out of here.” He leaned out the window. “Muramasa! Give me a hand!” The Samurott bobbed his head, and the Ronin ducked down beneath the windowsill as a torrent of water sailed over his head. One of the kids shrieked as masonry and charred wood fell around them. “I said help me, not bring the building down on my head!” the Ronin roared. He gathered up the two children and their pokemon and rushed out of the apartment, vaulting over the flames in the front room. When he got back into the hallway landing, he heard a crash as a portion of the stair down collapsed. He bit off a curse and peered down the stairs. “Okay,” he gasped. “Hold on tight. I think… I think I got this.” He tightened his grip on the nearly unconscious children and took two steps back to get a running start. He sprinted forward and leapt for all he was worth, hoping to land on the far side of the stairs. He landed poorly, sinking to a crouch and feeling his knees protest. The floorboards beneath him groaned, and the Ronin didn’t have time to get clear. “Oh fu—” The floor below him buckled and he plunged down in a pile of burning timbers and plaster. He clutched the children close, hoping to use his body as a cushion for them and to cover them from any falling rubble. He landed hard, and while he didn’t feel anything break, he knew he wasn’t going to be able to get up by himself. It wasn’t the way he planned on dying, but at least they could say he went out trying to do the right thing. A bellow from outside heralded the arrival of Muramasa, who barreled through the remains of the doorframe and immediately began blasting any nearby fires with streams of water that left craters in what was left of the masonry. The Poliwhirl sat astride the Samurott’s back, using controlled pulses of water to beat the flames back from where the Ronin lay stunned. A crowd of men and fighting types followed after him, and began trying to shift the rubble from him and the children. The Poliwhirl’s trainer helped lever the Ronin to his feet. “What the hell are you doing?” the Ronin rasped. “You heroes do so much for us, it’s only right we do the same.” “I’m not a hero.” They stumbled out into the night air, and the Ronin staggered to the street, where he sank into a crouch. Between gasps for breath, he checked himself for serious injuries. The kid picked up his broadsword and held it out to him. “I know who you are,” the kid said. “They say you’re a monster and a serial killer. But I don’t think so. Those kids would have died if you hadn’t been here. You might not believe it, but I think you’re a hero.” The Ronin spat and pushed himself to his feet. “Shut the fuck up, kid.” A tongue of fire leapt up over the tops of the nearby buildings, visible for blocks all around, the worst explosion he had seen all night. The Ronin’s eyes went wide. “That’s in the Warren. Fuck.” He shook his head and tried to gather his wits. “The whole damn Warren is going to go up in smoke if that doesn’t get contained. Muramasa!” The kid reached out and caught the Ronin’s arm. “What can I do to help?” “What can…? I don’t…” “I want to help.” The kid gestured to several of the bystanders. “We all do. This is our city too.” The Ronin sucked at his teeth. He couldn’t send civilians in to take care of something like this. But if the fire started to spread, it was their neighborhood on the line. With the fire department tied up with the rest of the chaos and the Warren’s streets as cramped as they were, it might take too long for the professionals to deal with the fire, and the Ronin sure as hell wasn’t going to let a whole swathe of his town go up in smoke. Okay then. “Get everyone you know with water types to form up a perimeter. Stay on the edge of the fire, don’t try to be heroes. We’re just looking to hold it back.” He slung his sword back onto his back. “Those of you without water types, spread the word for the rest of us. It’s going to take everything we’ve got just to make sure we don’t all get killed. Muramasa and I will go on ahead and try to get more help.” “We’ll be right behind you! You can count on us!” The Ronin raised a signed eyebrow and recalled Muramasa to his ball. He swung up onto his bike and took off towards the blaze, his hair whipping around his face. Saving those kids didn’t make up for everything he had done overseas. Killing the bombers didn’t either. He knew he was never going to completely atone for what he’d done, but tonight, he’d put a little good back into the world and took a little evil out of it. As he roared towards the burning Warren, he steeled his resolve. He was going to take his city back. |
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Post by Firebrand on Mar 16, 2019 16:01:00 GMT
Chapter 27
Alex let out a breath and squirmed around to try to make his suit jacket fit a little more comfortably. It had been a while since the last time he had worn it, and his pectoral muscles had filled out considerably after his months of hero work. It wasn’t ideal, but after a few minutes of preening and adjusting, he figured he had made it as comfortable as possible. He had attracted a few odd stares in the process, but he tried not to let it get to him. Everyone was still on edge in the aftermath of the Purge Night just a few days previously, and particularly sensitive to anything outside the norm.
Alex still had a few healing bruises from the Purge, but all things considered, he got off light.
He squared his shoulders and strode forward into the small plaza in front of the Harcourt Building. Unlike the hypermodern glass and steel spire of Sasaki Tower or the art deco marvel that was the Forbes Corporation headquarters in downtown Clarus, the Harcourt Building was a stolid brutalist block that dominated the Greenpoint skyline. It broadcast solidity and conservatism, befitting a corporation that had successfully steered Clarus City through several financial recessions and depressions. The sound of footsteps drew Alex’s attention away from the building. “It’s an e-eyesore, huh?” Ingrid said as she fell in beside Alex. She was chewing a wad of gum, and presently blew a bubble. “I told F-Fancypants he should t-tear the whole t-thing down and rebuild it, b-but he didn’t go f-for it.”
Alex smirked. “Anything but this would be an improvement.” Ingrid blew another bubble and jammed her hands into the pockets of her jacket. The faded leather was almost completely covered in patches from obscure metal bands; Alex counted at least eight different stylized depictions of Giratina. Alex took in the patched jacket, distressed jeans and steel-toed boots while trying to discreetly smooth the wrinkles out of his shirt and straighten his tie. “I thought Edgar said we should dress up for this?”
“S-Since when have I ever l-listened to F-Fancypants?” She lifted a pair of sunglasses from the neck of her black t-shirt and slid them on. “If he w-wants m-me in his entourage, I’m going to l-look cool as h-hell doing it.”
A car door behind them slammed. “I’m glad you both could make it.” When Alex and Ingrid turned, Edgar Harcourt nodded to them both in turn. Alex saw him take in his ill-fitting suit and Ingrid’s casual clothes, but aside from a quirk of his eyebrow, Edgar apparently decided to take it in stride. Edgar’s own immaculately tailored suit was a dark charcoal-gray, and he had not deigned to wear a tie, leaving his collar unbuttoned with the kind of blasé disregard for business attire only the fabulously rich could pull off. Overall, it was a far cry from the black tie, tails, and diamond cufflinks Alex was used to seeing Edgar in. He passed an attaché briefcase to Ingrid and let his smirk stretch a bit wider. “You ready to have a little fun?”
“L-Lead the way, F-Fancypants.”
They passed through the revolving glass doors into the marbled lobby of the Harcourt Building. Alex had by now grown used to the bustling atrium of Sasaki Tower, and so the subdued hush of the Harcourt Building’s lobby came as a mild shock. A security guard glanced up as the three of them walked past the guard station to the front desk, where a pair of receptionists tapped away on their keyboards. Edgar cleared his throat rather imperiously, making one of the receptionists look up. “Yes, can I help you?” he asked, polite but sounding rather bored and put out.
“I need to get to the executive boardroom.”
“Sir, I’m afraid I can’t just let you—”
Edgar cut him off with a brusque wave of his hand. Ingrid popped her gum. “I sent word to Lorenz two days ago and told the board to expect me.” Edgar heaved an exasperated sigh, and Alex had fight down a smirk. Edgar was really enjoying this too much. “Did they really not pass that along to you?”
“The board meeting’s full agenda will become a matter of public record in a few—”
“As a majority shareholder, I believe I have the right to sit in on the meeting.”
“A majority shareholder?” The man looked up for the first time. “And what is your name, sir?”
“It’s on the building.” Edgar drew a folio of documents from under his jacket and laid them out on the desk. Alex couldn’t make sense of them, but they seemed to include a lot of references to shares and Harcourt Ltd.
Both receptionists blanched. “M-Mr. Harcourt? But it’s been years since you—”
“I’m aware,” Edgar said. “I’ve been away for too long. I think it’s past time a Harcourt was back at the helm of the firm. Now, if you would allow my associates and I to pass?”
The receptionist gestured with a shaking hand to a small device on the desk. “Mr. Harcourt, before we do that, we need to confirm… it’s for security purposes. I’m sure you understand?”
Edgar rolled his eyes and held out his hand. “Yes, yes.” He lifted the retinal scanner to his face and pressed it against his eyes. A small light on the machine flashed, the receptionist swallowed.
“Y-You’re free to go through, Mr. Harcourt. The boardroom is on—”
“I know where it is, thank you.” Edgar snapped his fingers and started towards the elevators.
“Uh, your associates, they need to be vetted and…”
“I personally vouch for them. Where I go, they go.”
“Uh… yes. Of course. Okay.”
The elevator doors slid open, and the three of them boarded. After Edgar had pressed the button for the forty eighth floor and the doors had swept shut, Ingrid doubled over with laughter. “Th-that was hilarious! D-Did you see the l-looks on their faces?” She took a deep breath and tried to steady herself before affecting an exaggerated imitation of Edgar. “‘As a m-majority shareholder’, I almost lost it.”
Alex grinned. “It was a little over the top, Ed.”
Edgar shrugged. “I thought it was a great performance.”
“You n-need to get out more, F-Fancypants.”
“Yeah, how long were you planning that little speech?”
Edgar rolled his eyes and brushed a nonexistent bit of dust from his pant leg. “We’re here. Time for the real show.” The elevator dinged and the doors opened on an elegantly decorated corridor lined with original oil paintings. Edgar appraised the décor with a haughty stare and motioned the other two on. They proceeded down the corridor to a glass-walled conference room with an elegant hardwood table surrounded by gray-haired men and woman attended by a small legion of aides.
Alex cut in front of Edgar to open the door for him, and every head in the room turned as the heir of the Harcourt corporation swept into the meeting. He inclined his head. “Esteemed colleagues of the board, for those of you who may not know me, my name is Edgar Harcourt.” A ripple passed through the room as Edgar turned to a bespectacled man with rather impressive sideburns sitting at the head of the table. “Lorenz, I think you’re in my seat.”
The man shook his head. “This is… you shouldn’t…” He took a breath and gathered himself. “Eddie, I am the chairman of the board, and I am leading this meeting. Whatever you have to discuss, we can do so privately later.”
“You are the chairman of the board in absentia. Effective immediately, I am assuming my place at the head of this company as stipulated in my parents’ will. We can discuss the nuts and bolts of this transition later, Lorenz, but for the time being I will be leading this meeting, and you are in my seat.” Edgar raised an eyebrow, Ingrid popped her gum again, and Alex tried desperately to keep a straight face. After a terse moment, Lorenz stood up and made to move to a spot down the table, but before he could, Edgar seized his arm. “And Lorenz… going forward you will address me as Mr. Harcourt.”
Lorenz sucked in a breath and nodded. “Of course… Mr. Harcourt.”
Edgar flashed a cold smile and slid into the seat at the head of the table, with Alex and Ingrid taking up positions just behind him. “Now then, might I have a copy of that agenda?” When the closest administrative assistant slid him the sheaf of paper, he idly scanned it. “Where were we?”
“We had just finished a review on our second quarter investment performance and a brief on third quarter projections,” a woman down the table said.
“Bring me up to speed later.” Edgar snapped his fingers and held out a hand. Ingrid put the briefcase on the table, popped the clasps, and removed a sheaf of paperwork on top that she then dropped into Edgar’s hand. Alex thought the whole thing looked a little rehearsed, but they were there to put on a show. Edgar laid the documents out on the table and looked out at the board. “I’m adding a new item to the agenda, for your immediate consideration. It is no exaggeration to say that this matter is why I have decided to end my, ah, extended leave of absence and return to the public sphere.” He cleared his throat and handed a pile of documents to the board member sitting next to him. “Take one of those and pass it around, would you? Thank you. Now, we are all aware of what transpired in our city just a few nights prior. The city’s criminal element has finally spiraled out of control, and in doing so they leveled a significant portion of Clarus City. I propose that the board creates a new Harcourt Foundation to invest in and preserve the infrastructure of our city and support the communities that have been ravaged by the Sins’ actions.”
By now, Edgar’s proposal had circulated, and muttered conversations bubbled up as the board saw just how much money Edgar was proposing to move into the new foundation. “Clarus City has been home to Harcourt Ltd. for five generations,” Edgar continued, ignoring the buzz. “And in that time, the firm has enjoyed favorable taxation rates, lax regulation, and little oversight. And what have we given the city in return?”
“We have created jobs!” Lorenz snapped. “We have generated wealth for the city! We have invested in… in…”
“In favorable ventures that insulate the firm from risk,” Edgar shot back. “And in the meantime, the firm has lent money to the average rank and file citizens of Clarus City with predatory interest rates, knowing full well that they would never be able to pay us back. The company that bears my name has for years plunged families into a generational cycle of debt. You may say that the Sins are the ones destroying this city, but the groundwork for that was laid long ago by the Harcourts. It ends now. It’s time we started giving back to the city we ravaged.”
“You think we can change that overnight?” one of the men down the table roared.
“Of course not. But I’m young, and I’m back in control of the company. I’ve got time to put this to rights.”
Lorenz stood up and slammed his hand down on the table. “Your father would never have approved of this!”
“My father was a tight-fisted asshole who’s just as much to blame as the rest of you,” Edgar snapped. “But he’s not here anymore, and I’m going to have to clean up the mess he left me with.”
“What do you know?” Lorenz hissed. “You’ve been shut up in your mansion for years, you spoiled, up-jumped—”
“I know enough.” Edgar waved his hand lazily, and an eerie hiss filled the room. A Haunter bubbled up from Lorenz’s shadow and grabbed the chairman’s collar, jerking him back into his seat. Edgar nodded to the ghost type as it vanished into a cloud of vapor and went on, “I know that by the end of the week, Forbes Corp and Sasaki Industries will be announcing similar efforts in addition to the charity work they already engage in. If Harcourt Ltd. acts quickly, we can look like we’re leading the pack in post-Purge outreach and ride the tide of public goodwill.”
“How can you know that?” a board member cried.
Edgar reached into his pocket, drew out his cellphone, and opened a text message. “If you look past the rather excessive emojis, you can see that Isabelle Forbes told me herself. This company has been given an opportunity to get out ahead of this and completely change public perception of us.” He sighed. “We lost a key opportunity to increase public goodwill after the Sins’ attack on midtown a few months ago. The Purge was far worse than that, and affected far more innocent people. You may think I was a recluse for the past few years, but even shut-ins can read the newspaper. I can see that investors are panicking and pulling out of Clarus City, and that’s bad for our bottom line. If we adopt my proposal, Harcourt Ltd. would be making a significant contribution to the city’s infrastructure and future, which would inspire investor confidence. It may not be enough to singlehandedly re-stabilize the market, but between us, Forbes Corp, and Sasaki Industries, it just might work.”
A chorus of murmurs went up at this, and Edgar cleared his throat to re-center the attention of the room on him. “I’m glad to see at least a few of you are considering this, but whether all of you support it or none of you do, it’s immaterial. My proposal needs just a simple majority approval to pass, which I have already secured. As the sole surviving member of the Harcourt family, I control all of my family’s stock, a total of fifty-one percent, making me a majority shareholder. At this point, a vote is merely a formality. My presence here means the measure passes.”
Lorenz started to say something, but Edgar forestalled him with a raised hand. “It’s perfectly legal and within my rights, Lorenz. I’ve had plenty of time to read the corporate governance bylaws in the exile you imposed on me.” He snapped his fingers, and Ingrid dropped another sheaf of papers into his hand. Alex could tell she was trying not to crack up. Edgar slid the folio across the table to Lorenz. “Believe me, I’ve done my diligence. All relevant passages within the bylaws have been marked and highlighted, in case you don’t believe me. But I think you would know plenty about how the majority shares rule works, since you’ve served as my proxy for the last five years. Now, as I’ve said, the vote is merely a formality, but for the sake of procedure and the meeting minutes, all in favor of the creation of the Harcourt Charitable Foundation?”
A few tentative hands went up, and Alex suspected it was mostly because the board saw the winds changing in Edgar’s favor now that he had reemerged to take control of the company. Edgar grinned. “And the measure carries.” He scanned the meeting agenda and idly flicked his hand. “The rest of this is all routine business and approvals. Lorenz, you know how I’ll vote, so I leave it in your hands. I’ll give you a call later on to set up a meeting about transferring my responsibilities back when I officially resume control of the company, but for now, I have other matters to attend to.” He stood up and swept out of the room, Alex and Ingrid trailing in his wake.
When they boarded the elevator back to the lobby, Ingrid burst out laughing. “Did y-you see th-their faces? I th-thought Lorenz w-was going to b-bust an artery!”
“Is it really okay to just leave like that?” Alex asked.
Edgar snorted. “You think my father ever sat through one of those things? He just breezed in, told the board how he expected them to vote and left. I needed to let the board know I was back, and that I was done letting Lorenz push me aside. If I manage to do some good for this city along the way, that’s even better. It’s about time this company started pulling its weight.”
“How are y-you going to s-swing bring the p-president of this p-place and keep up the n-night gig?”
“I’ll work something out. I’ll probably wind up delegating most of the day-to-day business to Lorenz and the other directors, but I meant what I said back there. It’s time a Harcourt was back in charge, and Lorenz is never going to push me aside again.” The elevator dinged, and they walked out into the lobby. Edgar glanced down at his designer watch. “What do you say we grab lunch?”
“Are you paying?” Alex asked.
“Let’s d-do the m-math, birdbrain. You’re an i-intern, I w-work at a g-guitar store, and F-Fancypants is the p-president of th-third biggest company in the city. D-Damn right he’s paying.” Ingrid glanced sidelong at Edgar. “And we’re n-not going to a n-noodle stand this time, either.”
“Of course not,” Edgar said. “We’re celebrating! I’ve heard of a tapas place that opened a few weeks ago by the river that I’ve been dying to try. What do you s—”
All three of their phones chimed in unison. Alex glanced down at the text and then at the other two heroes. “It’s from Jiro.”
“Must be big,” Edgar said.
Alex was already reading the message. “There’s going to be a meeting at Forbes Manor in two hours. Looks like he’s calling everyone in again, just like when we went against Braun.”
“About damn t-time,” Ingrid said.
Edgar was scrolling through his speed dial. “Looks like we’ll need a rain check on lunch. I’ll bring the car around.”
***
Alex, Ingrid and Edgar arrived at Forbes Manor a short while later and were buzzed through the automated security system at the gate. Edgar told his driver they would likely be there for a while and would call when he was finished. A battered pickup truck with “Reeves Locksmith” emblazoned on the door was parked on the looping front drive, and as Alex crossed the front lawn, an old sedan pulled up. The car stopped, and a petite woman with spiked blonde hair swung out. She glanced at the truck and nodded before turning to the three young heroes.
“Haven’t seen you kids in a while. Holding down the east side, right?”
“Who are you?” Edgar asked.
The woman blinked. “I’m the Cavalier.” At Edgar’s skeptical look, she sighed in exasperation. “What, you think I’m going to ride up here all suited up in broad daylight? You’re not in costume either.”
Alex narrowed his eyes. “I hear you had a busy Purge Night. How long did it take you to get all the blood off your armor?”
“You don’t approve of how I work? I think we’re well past trying to keep our methods nonlethal.”
“From the sound of it, you never really concerned yourself with that to start with.”
Edgar stepped between the two of them. “Hey, easy, we’re all on the same side here.” He extended his hand. “Edgar Harcourt. The Phantom.” He gestured with a quick turn of his head. “That’s Echo, and Hawlucha Man.”
“I figured,” the Cavalier said. “Name’s Sonya Fabron.” She turned back to Alex. “The Phantom’s right, we can’t afford to be fighting among ourselves. You may not agree with what I do, but I can promise you that the only people I’m hurting are the ones who deserve it.” When Alex opened his mouth to respond, Sonya held up a hand. “Spare me the arguments. If you think that letting these fuckers live to fight another day gives you the moral high ground, then fine. But I’m putting my life on the line every time I go up against them, and I’m not letting anyone get away to get revenge on me if I can help it. The Sins never deserved mercy, and now more than ever we need a permanent solution to keep our city safe.”
Alex’s hands were balled into fists, and Ingrid put a restraining hand on his shoulder. “L-Let’s go inside. Jiro w-wouldn’t have c-called us here if it w-wasn’t important.”
“Right,” Alex managed to say. “Let’s go.” He turned on his heel and stalked away from the Cavalier before his composure slipped any further. Edgar and Ingrid fell in behind him, with the Cavalier taking up the rear at a considerable distance. They walked through the lavish Forbes mansion to the secure meeting room at the center of the ground floor where months ago the heroes of Clarus City had laid out a desperate plan to save the Sins’ hostages from Marcus Braun’s clutches.
Isabelle looked up as they approached and forced a smile. “Good, you’re here. Grab some seats, we’ll start in a few.”
Jiro, Lakshmi and Johannes sat around a low coffee table with their heads together in a murmured conversation. Joshua and Newton hung back in a corner of the room. The Kadabra had a hand on the esper’s arm, and Joshua looked troubled. Captain Unova sat on the edge of one of the couches in full hero regalia, his expression grim. Next to him sat a bearded man with a Nuzleaf, who Alex took to be the Gunslinger. The bearded man stood up when Sonya walked in. “Reeves,” she said. “I tried calling you for a ride.”
“I was finishing up a job near the bridge, and it sounded important. I didn’t think it was worth it to double back.” Reeves shrugged, but Alex saw his eyes turn up at the corners as he slipped on the Gunslinger persona. “Sorry, partner.”
“You know I hate it when you call me that.”
“You guys c-carpool?” Ingrid asked.
“Yeah, sometimes.” Sonya slumped down into a chair. “Saves us each a few bucks here and there.”
Ingrid cast Edgar a significant glance. “M-Maybe we should st-start d-doing that. I w-wouldn’t mind using that c-car service every once in a w-while.”
Edgar rolled his eyes. “The car service isn’t cheap.”
“D-Didn’t you j-just m-make a big show of t-taking b-back your company, F-Fancypants?”
Alex sat down next to Jonathan and nodded. “Made it through the Purge all right?”
“It was touch and go for a little while, but George and I pulled through. What about you?”
“Hierro and I were running ourselves ragged all over Avenbrooke. The Baron put some of his capos out to help keep the peace, and once I realized they were actually there to help, we managed to hold things down. All things considered, Avenbrooke got off easy.” He grinned. “Y’know, there were a few times when Hierro and I showed up and the Sins cut their losses and ran. I guess someone’s been putting out word in the underworld that a fight with Hawlucha Man is more trouble than it’s worth.”
“You let them get away?’
“Oh hell no. We chased them into the police’s hands and let the cops take it from there.”
Jiro stood up and cleared his throat. “All right, let’s get started. You know I wouldn’t call you here if it wasn’t an emergency. Just being together like this presents a substantial risk for all of us, but for the time being we can assume that Forbes manor is secure.”
“You’re starting without me, huh?” The gathered heroes turned to see the Ronin standing at the door of the conference room, his hands shoved into his pockets.
Johannes rose to his feet and grinned. “The savior of the Warren! Glad you could make it.”
The Ronin rolled his eyes. “Don’t start that crap with me.”
Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “I heard that if you hadn’t stepped in, half the east side would have gone up in smoke.”
“It wasn’t as bad as that,” the Ronin grumbled. “I just did what anyone would’ve.” He dropped into a chair next to Alex and gestured at Jiro. “You want to do something about this shit, right? Well, I’m listening.”
Alex leaned over to whisper to the other Avenbrooke vigilante. “Decided to be a hero after all, huh?”
“Shut up, kid.”
Jiro nodded. “As I was saying, the situation has gotten dire enough for me to call this assembly of Clarus’s heroes. The Purge has made it clear that the Sins’ war in the underworld has gone too far. Too many civilians are being injured, and with Dominion’s power and influence growing, it’s difficult to know who we can trust. But everyone in this room has been actively engaged in combatting the Sins, and I think it’s safe to assume we’re all on the same side. If you need confirmation of my own bona fides, or those of Johannes or Lakshmi, we’re willing to submit to scrutiny. I don’t want anyone to think they’ve been lured here under false pretenses.”
“We believe you,” Sonya said. “Cut the crap and tell us how we’re going to kick the Sins’ asses.”
Lakshmi favored the Cavalier with a wan smile. “Dominion has proved difficult to pin down. In the early days of her takeover, she moved around her base of operations frequently, which made it hard to track her, especially with her being so erratic. But our information network has recently identified a warehouse complex in Ridgewood that was purchased through what used to be one of Marcus Braun’s more obscure shell companies. We have observed a lot of Sin traffic through that location, and have spotted Dominion herself there on multiple occasions. It appears that this complex has become the main base of the Sins’ operation.
“Unfortunately, we can’t pass this information along to the police. We have reason to believe that Dominion has successfully infiltrated the police force at all levels. If the police force were to plan a raid on the facility, Dominion would hear about it and have enough time to pack up her operation and escape to a secondary location. Jiro, Johannes and I will be launching a surprise attack on the facility in three days’ time.”
Edgar leaned forward. “That’s insane.”
“Not as insane as you might think,” Johannes replied. “After the Purge, the Sins’ forces have taken a considerable hit. The organization is as weak as it’s ever been, even if the rumors about them joining forces with the Kuromori are true. Dominion shot herself in the foot trying to purge her ranks of dissent, and we’re going to take advantage of that.”
“But the Phantom has a point,” Jiro said. “Even weakened as they are, attacking the center of the Sins’ power poses considerable risks. It’s… it’s very likely that the three of us might not survive doing it alone. And that brings me back to why we’ve called you here today. I really can’t ask you to sacrifice any more than you already have, but…”
“You want us to fight with you,” Isabelle said. “Jiro, why didn’t you tell me this ahead of time?”
“The fewer people who knew about this, the safer the operation—”
“Dude. I’ve fighting this war as long as you three, and there’s no way in hell I’m backing out now. I’m going.”
“Same here,” Alex said, rising to his feet.
Ingrid and Edgar stood as well. “We’re in too,” Edgar said.
“After what those b-bastards have done to G-Greenpoint, it’ll b-be my p-pleasure.”
“You couldn’t keep me away if you tried!” Captain Unova said.
Sonya’s lips curled up into a predatory smile. “I can hardly wait.”
The Gunslinger took a deep breath. “You can count on me to have your backs, partner.”
Alex glanced down at the Ronin, and the older man nodded slowly. “I’m no hero, but I swore to protect this city. I’m in.”
Joshua stepped forward. “Dominion needs to be stopped. I’ll do everything in my power to help.” He grinned. “And my power’s nothing to scoff at!”
Johannes grinned at the assembled heroes. “That’s what I like to hear! Clarus City knows that it can always bet on us to keep it safe.”
Jiro took a deep breath. “You all need to understand that this is going to be an incredibly dangerous operation. Bravado is all well and good, but it’s very likely that none of us will survive.”
“We’ve never lost yet!” Isabelle shot back. “Every time we got knocked down, we just came back up swinging harder. That’s what heroes like us do! The city needs us now more than ever, and if you think I’m going to sit on my hands while the three of you go off to fight, you’re insane!”
“I know, but—”
“No buts! You said the same crap when we all went off to fight Sloth, and none of us backed down then either.” Isabelle slammed her hand down on the arm of her chair. “Every one of us has spent months fighting our own battles against the Sins, just trying to hold the line and keep our city safe. If you ask me, it’s way past time we brought the fight to them. Enough with playing defense, right?”
Edgar nodded. “None of us would be sitting here if we couldn’t handle ourselves in a fight. How is an operation like this any different than what we do every night? Sure, we’re facing long odds, but we do that every day. Jiro, we all know the risks. We’ve known them for a long time. We’re fighting anyway.”
“This city is our home,” Alex added. “We know what it might cost to protect it, and we’re all comfortable paying that price. We knew the risks when we agreed to fight; you don’t have to remind us again.”
Jiro inclined his head to the three young heroes. “You’re right. So, we’re a united front. I’m making the full resources of my company available to all of you. If there are any equipment upgrades you need that can be made in the next three days, let me know. I want us going into this at full strength.”
Johannes took the floor. “We’ve all been at this long enough to know that the second the action starts, any plan we make is going to go to hell in a hand basket. But we’ve outlined a general plan of attack, and formulated several broad strategies that we can tailor on the fly when the assault begins.” He picked up a tablet and projected the map it showed onto the room’s larger screen. “The three of us planned to stage our attack from here as soon as it was dark…”
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Post by Firebrand on Apr 6, 2019 2:58:18 GMT
Chapter 28
Alex crouched atop the roof of the low office building, keeping himself in the shadow of the building’s HVAC unit. Hierro knelt beside him, the Hawlucha’s feathers puffed up in anticipation of the fight to come. Isabelle checked the flash grenades on her belt and nodded once when Alex caught her eye. Hidden from sight on other rooftops and in the alleys below, the other heroes of Clarus City were performing their own pre-battle checks. Alex was breathless with anticipation as he waited for Jiro's signal to begin the assault on the Sins’ compound.
Waiting for a fight went against his usual M.O. for hero work. In most altercations he had been involved in, he had dropped out of the sky to surprise his foes in the middle of their criminal activity. Setting himself in a predetermined place and waiting for signals from his allies had become more common as he had teamed up with the other heroes in the intervening months, but even so, every fiber of Alex’s being quivered as he waited for the shot of adrenaline that would herald the start of the fight.
Streetlights flickered on as the last light of the sun sank below the rolling hills west of the city. Isabelle cracked her knuckles and rolled her neck. “Any minute now.”
A sudden eruption of fire near the barbed wire fence of the compound sent the two heroes scrambling. Alex and Hierro hurled themselves into the air as Isabelle summoned Aethon. The Volcarona surged to join the Alex and Hierro, using his broad wings to create gusts of wind that propelled them along and helped maintain their altitude. Alex heard the clatter of hooves on pavement below and the roar of a motorcycle engine. The Cavalier and the Ronin burst from two alleys astride their respective mounts. The Ronin held his broadsword perpendicular to his body, while the Cavalier’s lance and armor gleamed in the light of her Rapidash’s flames. A blue and gray blur whipped through the air beside her, and Alex only caught the briefest glance of the Honedge as it paused to let its trainer catch up.
Gunshots echoed in the evening air, and the first few shots were echoed by a deep basso roar that rattled the nearby windows in their frames. “That would be Forte,” Alex muttered as he angled his body to catch one of Aethon’s gusts. Dark shapes were taking to the air above the Sins’ territory, congealing into a thick cloud of ghost and flying types. But just as quickly as it formed, the cloud dissipated as a dart descended from the heavens, cloaked in a brilliant white light. George pulled out of his dive and whipped around in a tight turn, coming in for another pass as Captain Unova unclipped from his back. Explosions blossomed against the darkening sky as the Gunslinger and Geronimo laid down covering fire for the Braviary.
“Let’s bring the party, birdbrain!” Isabelle shouted. Another strong wind current from Aethon sent Alex and Hierro shooting out over the mangled section of the compound fence, where Blaziken Man and the Dryad had breached the Sins perimeter and had called the attention of the sentries. The Dryad’s myriad grass types pushed back against the hastily mustered Sin forces, splitting the pavement as they summoned lashing vines from beneath the ground. The Rose and Iron legions slammed into the guards’ pokemon, and the Roserade and Scizor pressed against their far less organized foes. A corona of fire erupted from a knot of enforcers as Masakado lashed out with a series of lightning-fast strikes, each hit punctuated by an explosion.
Alex pulled his wings in close, plummeting down and contorting at the last moment to land with a spinning kick that drove a Sin enforcer to his knees. He struck the man’s stunned Electabuzz with an uppercut that snapped the electric type’s head back as Hierro dropped down behind him. His partner’s claws were already surrounded by dancing nimbuses of flame, and the Hawlucha jumped at the thickest knot of Sin fighters with a scream. Alex drew his batons and cracked a Machoke across the face, knocking the fighting type off-balance long enough for Captain Unova to grab its arm and hurl the Machoke over his shoulder and into the pavement.
“Excadrill Bursts Upward?” Alex said.
“Simple but effective,” Captain Unova replied as he settled into a kickboxing stance. “I’ll break out the fancy stuff later.”
Blaziken Man’s armor hummed as he launched bursts of flame from specially designed panels on his palms and the bottoms of his feet. One of the Dryad’s Torterra bellowed as it butted heads with a Bastiodon, and Alex danced backwards to avoid the advancing Rose legion. A whistling of air heralded the arrival of Forte and Mezzo, and the two sonic pokemon took aim at the cloud of avian and spectral pokemon that George and the Gunslinger had been keeping away from the melee. Captain Unova whistled to his partner, and George dove out of range as Mezzo and Forte launched two sonic blasts up into the cloud.
The rush of air and sound disoriented the milling pokemon, sending several crashing to the ground. Those that remained were assaulted by another sonic attack from above as Crescita and Echo descended, and those that had weathered the initial attack were scattered as the Noivern punched through them. Echo leapt from the dragon’s back to land between Mezzo and Forte, and the dragon shot back up into the air to join George in taking out the last of the Sins’ aerial cover.
By now, the alarm had been raised, and more of the Sins’ elite fighters had joined the battle. Alex saw several fighters dressed in the combat blacks of the Kuromori, and took that the mean that the rumors of the ninja clan coming under Dominion’s control were true. The Sin capos were joining the fray, elite cutters and their pokemon who had fought their way up through the Clarus underworld to stand just below the Sins themselves. Alex and Hierro fought back to back in the center of a mob of snarling humans and pokemon, doing everything they could to beat their foes back. The Sin fighters had pressed in so close that their firearms were ineffective, but Alex knew their knives and whips would be just as deadly.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sin operatives and pokemon hurled through the air by the percussive force of Echo’s attacks, and the brilliant flashes of light as Volcarona Mask, Blaziken Man and Masakado cleaved through the crowd to fight beside each other. Aethon wheeled through the sky above them, the fiery scales of his wings blazing like a second sun.
The Ronin had abandoned his motorcycle and summoned Muramasa, and the two of them cut down anyone who was unfortunate to get within striking range of their blades. The Ronin’s face was already spattered with the blood of his victims, and his mouth was pulled back into a rictus of a grin as he drove further into the crowd. The Cavalier galloped past, her lance as bloody as the Ronin’s blade. Bullets were useless against the thick armor she and her Rapidash wore, and her Honedge cut down those who fled before her with ruthless efficiency. “THE TIME FOR MERCY IS LONG PAST!” her modified voice boomed from within her helmet. “EXPECT NO QUARTER!” Explosions from the Gunslinger’s trick bullets exploded around the Cavalier, driving opponents into her path.
In the center of the fighting, a large black mass rose up and began emitting an unearthly hum. The black shape twisted and contorted, resolving itself into a towering Dusknoir. Gregor opened the gaping mouth on his chest wide, and then reached in with both of his hands to pull the yawning cavity still wider. A figure dressed in a pristine tuxedo stepped out of the darkness within, and the second the Phantom set foot on the pavement, his entire army of ghosts surged out of Gregor’s black void behind him, howling and shrieking as they took the skies to harry the Sins’ forces.
A whip wrapped around Alex’s wrist and dragged him off-balance, nearly sending him toppling to the ground. Hierro reached out and seized Alex’s arm to steady him, but in the Hawlucha’s moment of inattention, a Mightyena pounced. Alex dragged his body around, pulling the capo with the whip with him, and clubbed the dark type across the muzzle with his free hand. Hierro reached up and slashed through the braided cables of the whip and drove a kick into the capo’s abdomen. Alex was pretty sure he heard one or two of her ribs crack.
A faint hissing noise behind them was the only warning the Sins got as the Hammer crashed into the fight, his hydraulic-powered fists lashing out at the heavier pokemon and driving them back from his allies. Siegfried and Albrecht charged behind their trainer, clearing a path through the chaos with quick but powerful strikes. “Well done, Hawlucha Man!” the Hammer roared. “But we’ll handle things from here!” The valves in the Hammer’s armor hissed as he brought his fist up and slammed it down into the pavement, splintering the concrete and knocking combatants from their feet. As he brought back his other fist, a Machamp jumped in front of it and pushed back against it with all four of its arms. The fighting type strained against the mechanized armor, the veins in its muscles bulging as it tried to hold the Hammer in place. Johannes jerked a lever at the controls, swinging the arm around and hurling the Machamp away, where it was set upon by the Phantom’s ghosts.
The clatter of metal on pavement made Alex’s head snap up. “Grenades!” he shouted.
“Be not afraid!” A rush of air heralded Archangel’s arrival, and he descended from above with his hands outstretched. The air around him rippled as he manipulated the air into a solid wall to repel bullets. The grenades were wrapped in bubbles of psychic force and hurled skyward, where they denoted harmlessly, with their shrapnel turned in on themselves. Newton teleported to his partner’s side, throwing up a smaller psychic barrier so that Archangel could prepare another attack.
Archangel raised his right hand in the air and snapped his fingers. Sin enforcers and their pokemon were driven to their knees all around the esper as the force of gravity increased on them tenfold. “You think your boss is strong?” Archangel shouted. “Her cheap party tricks are nothing! This is the power of a real esper!” He swept his hand down, and his irises glowed with an inner light as his blonde curls blew back from his forehead. A wave of force swept out from him, sweeping away his foes like leaves before a gale.
Archangel and Newton jumped straight up, soaring ten feet in the air. With another roar, he summoned a much larger psychic wave that tore through the Sin forces, buying the heroes much-needed time to breathe. The enforcers outside of Archangel’s range turned their guns on him, but the bullets were stopped by Newton’s psychic walls, which rippled with each impact.
The Hammer seized his opportunity, charging into the stunned ranks of the enemy, his fists flying. Albrecht and Siegfried were just paces behind their trainer, and the three of them rammed through the massed Sin forces and came out swinging on the other side before wheeling around for a second pass. The Cavalier held her Honedge high, and the ghost type’s blade glowed like a beacon. “PHANTOM! RONIN! CAP! ON ME!” When the three other heroes fell in alongside her Rapidash, she swept the blade down. “CHARGE!”
“Archangel!” Alex shouted. “How about a boost?” The esper snapped his fingers, and Alex and Hierro were thrown straight up into the air, clear through the cloud of the Phantom’s ghosts. At the peak of their arc, Alex spread his wings and made a looping pass to strike out at a shrieking Fletchinder and Pidgeotto. The battlefield below was covered in smoke, punctuated by bursts of light from pokemon attacks. Alex whistled to Hierro and angled downwards, swooping towards a knot where the fighting was thickest. Just before he landed, Alex pulled up and swung around with a spinning roundhouse kick that laid a bat-wielding enforcer flat. His Darmanitan and Krokorok were dispatched by Hierro, and Alex took up position next to Blaziken Man and Volcarona Mask.
“We’ve got company incoming,” Alex said as he swung his batons around. “When I was in the air, I saw Pride, Wrath, Greed and Envy closing in, and they’re bringing their entourages.”
Blaziken Man slammed his armored fist into a pouncing Druddigon and whirled towards where Alex had gestured. “More incoming? Then we need to wrap up this batch fast.” He shot a pulse of fire into the air. “Echo! Time to let loose!”
He was answered by a wailing guitar. “Bring the lightning! FACE THE THUNDER!” Electricity crackled as Forte built up a static charge and lashed out at the mob of pokemon struggling against Echo’s wall of sound, and those that retreated out of range from the Exploud’s fists were blasted even further back by bursts of pressurized air from the pipes on his body. While his partner bought him some space, Mezzo crouched down and slammed the palms of his hands into the ground and braced himself before unleashing a series of ultrasonic pulses that culminated in a long roar that made Alex’s bones vibrate. The concrete beneath their feet trembled as fissures burst open, throwing the melee into further chaos as combatants rushed to escape the earthquake.
“Keep going!” Volcarona Mask screamed, though it was doubtful Mezzo could hear her over the din.
With the earth bucking beneath their feet, the Sins’ forces were thrown into disarray as any kind of command structure broke down. The Gunslinger and Geronimo capitalized on the confusion, herding some fighters into clumps to be picked off by his trick bullets, while isolating other targets to make them easier targets for the Phantom’s ghosts, the Dryad’s grass types, or the Cavalier.
When Mezzo finally ran out of breath and the quakes stopped, the Sins had been routed, with those still standing driven back into their compound. The Cavalier and the Phantom started to pursue them, but Jiro held up his hand. “Heroes, fall back! Round two is about to get started.”
The Cavalier whirled her Rapidash around. “ROUND TWO?”
A mass of black-clothed figures appeared from the smoke, with four of the Sins at the mob’s head. Alex and Hierro settled into a ready stance as the other heroes readied their weapons. The Phantom rolled his shoulders and threw off his opera cape. “Leave Wrath to me.” He whistled to his ghosts and swept his rapier down. The spectral legion surged forward into the second wave of Sin fighters.
The Dryad sprinted past Alex, leaving a faint aura of cardamom in her wake. An honor guard of three Tsareena raced around her in a loose triangle, and the Iron Legion fell in around them. The Dryad unlooped a corded whip from her waist and flicked it out, wrapping it around Pride’s wrist and dragging her into the press. With a quick bit of footwork, the Dryad swept Pride’s feet out from beneath her. Pride’s Pyroar and Seviper tried to reach their trainer, but the Dryad’s pokemon stood in their way.
Pride pushed herself to her feet and drew a curved knife. The Dryad closed the distance between them in a heartbeat, her hands striking pressure points in Pride’s arm and forcing the Sin to drop her weapon. The two of them exchanged a serious of lightning-fast blows, parrying and blocking each other’s’ strikes so that neither could score a decisive blow. “Finally getting your hands dirty?” Pride hissed.
“I’m just doing what I should have done years ago,” the Dryad replied, driving her fist into Pride’s solar plexus. Pride crumpled into the blow and hacked out a cough.
“I wanted to give you the whole world, Lakshmi. We could have had everything. I could have kept you safe.”
“Not like that, Julia. Not for the price I would have had to pay.”
Pride shoved herself away from the Dryad. “Fine. If we’re settling this, I won’t hold back either!”
Alex tried to go to the Dryad’s aid, but the tide of combat pushed him away. Crescita and George looped over his head, darting through the seething mass of the Phantom’s ghosts while Mezzo and Archangel tore up the ground around him. Hierro vaulted over Alex’s shoulders and swung out with a kick at a Mightyena before making the fires around his fists explode. The Hawlucha rocketed up into the air and spun, crashing into a Staraptor and sending the larger bird crashing to the ground.
Volcarona Mask screamed a wordless battle cry as she rushed headlong into Greed, swinging her quarterstaff around and cracking it over the brawny woman’s right arm before dancing out of range. Wrath’s Incineroar leapt at Volcarona Mask while her back was turned, and Aethon was too preoccupied with keeping Greed’s entourage at bay to go to her defense. Alex sprinted forward, tackling the fire type in mid-leap and rolling with it across the ground. The Incineroar snarled and grappled with Alex, pinning him with his claws. Fire burst to life around the Incineroar’s jaws, but before it could bite down, Hierro careened out of the sky and slammed into the larger pokemon.
The force of the Hawlucha’s attack stunned the Incineroar, giving Alex time to roll to his feet. Hierro chopped the air with one talon, a clear signal to his partner that he could handle this fight alone. The Hawlucha’s feathers puffed up as he sprang at the Incineroar again, landing a solid uppercut to the fire type’s jaw. Alex ran to Volcarona Mask’s aid, swinging down with his stun batons on Greed’s back. The woman roared more from indignation than pain, and whirled on Alex, giving Volcarona Mask an opening to kick out her knees.
The two young heroes danced back, and Volcarona Mask grinned. “Gotta be careful. She hits like a truck.”
“But that doesn’t mean a thing—”
“If she can’t hit us in the first place! It’s like you’re reading my mind, birdbrain!”
“You go left and high, I’ll go right and low.”
They closed in on Greed again, one feinting in to draw her attention while the other struck from the opposite side. Greed was reputed to be uncannily strong, and her reach was much longer than that of the heroes, but she was most comfortable with a machine gun, and in the chaos she was forced to rely on hand-to-hand combat. Her raw physical power forced Alex and Volcarona Mask to fight cautiously, but for all her strength, she was sorely lacking in speed, and the two heroes capitalized on this weakness.
Alex cranked up his batons to their maximum stun setting, but despite repeated strikes, Greed stubbornly refused to go down. The electric shocks seemed only to enrage her, and though her fighting became clumsier, the force of her strikes grew proportionally. When Alex misjudged and found himself too close to Greed, he was forced to block instead of parrying and evading, and the force of her punch threw him backwards.
Though Greed’s breathing was growing labored, she didn’t relent in her attacks, and paused only when a sharp whistle cut through the din of battle. Greed’s mouth stretched into a chilling grin. “Finally.” Envy and a group of his thieves fought their way through a knot of ghosts that had been holding back Sin reinforcements from Alex’s fight. Behind them, a pokemon roared and barreled through the ghost types and slid to a stop beside Greed, nuzzling her with a brown-furred snout. The Sin ran a hand through her Ursaring’s fur. “I am well, Stepa. I was waiting for you so that we could crush these little bugs together.” The Ursaring growled and rose up to it full height, baring its impressive fangs.
Alex cursed under his breath as Greed and Envy advanced. The towering woman glanced down at the slight thief. “How is the new girl?”
Envy glanced aside at one member of his group, a woman in a vulpine wooden mask. “She’s earning her keep. Want to step back while we handle the heroes?”
“After I have just done the warming up? It is like you do not know me, Yousef.”
Envy smirked and gestured to his Luxray. “Together, then.” He palmed his knife and raced forward.
“Now, Aethon!” Volcarona Mask shouted. Her pokemon partner swept down on a blisteringly hot gale, forcing the Sin fighters to stop dead in their tracks. “You think you’re the only ones with backup?” she jeered. “Clearly, you don’t know the first thing about how we roll!”
With a series of crashes, the Hammer hurtled through the press behind them, breaking through the battle lines. “No matter the odds!” the Hammer roared. “You can always bet on the heroes of Clarus City to turn the fight around!” He slammed one of his fists into the ground in front of Alex, knocking their foes off balance.
Alex saw his opportunity and jumped up onto the Hammer’s metal arm and braced himself. “Boost me!” The Hammer barked out a laugh and drew his arm back before launching it forward, propelling Alex through the air. He spread his wingsuit wide and caught an updraft that sent him spiraling up over the chaos. He turned in the air and plummeted, crashing down behind Greed and Envy and dispatching two thieves and a Bisharp. The Hammer and Greed were locked in combat; Greed seized one of the Hammer’s iron fists and was straining against the force of the armor to hold it back, effectively stalling the Hammer in place.
Volcarona Mask sprinted towards Greed’s Ursaring and swatted the bear twice across its snout with her quarterstaff. The Ursaring swiped at her with his heavy claws, but the heroine was too swift, jumping back and out of range. “You think you can handle me?” she screamed. “You haven’t even seen me start to get serious!” As the Ursaring swung down at her again, she darted around his descending paw and jammed her staff into a crack on the ground, using the leverage to vault into the air. She wrapped her legs around the Ursaring’s neck, and the hulking pokemon snarled and snapped at her, but Volcarona Mask hooked her staff under her arms and the Ursaring’s neck, freeing her hands to box out the pokemon’s ears. The Ursaring bellowed, and Volcarona Mask jumped off him, delivering a snapping kick to the Ursaring’s back as she descended.
The pokemon whirled on her again, anger blazing in his eyes. The heroine scoffed. “You’ll never take me down!” She dodged around the Ursaring again and hurled two flash grenades into its face, stunning it long enough for her to turn her attention on the Sin fighters trying to flank her. “You can’t even touch me!” As a trio of enforcers closed in, she spun her staff around, knocking all three of them down. “I’m Clarus City’s strongest hero!” She sprinted at the recovering Ursaring and jumped up, delivering a punishing uppercut to the bear’s jaw, snapping the pokemon’s jaws closed and knocking it onto its back. “I’m Volcarona Mask, bitch! Don’t you forget it!”
She snapped her fingers. “Let ’em have it, Aethon!” Her Volcarona swept overhead, whipping up a searing whirlwind that scattered the Sins’ reinforcements and surrounded the heroine in a nimbus of flames.
Greed cried out as her partner pokemon collapsed, and the lapse in concentration was all the Hammer needed to force her down and pin her beneath one of his metallic hands. His laughter boomed over the chaos of the melee. “Way to go, sparkplug!” he roared as he used his free hand to fend off a Krookodile. Behind him, Siegfried spun heavy concrete clubs with ease, battering away any pokemon that drew close.
Alex found himself locked in an engagement with Envy and three of his thieves. As he ducked and dodged around a hissing Ariados, he locked one of his batons against the hilt of Envy’s curved dagger. “I’m surprised they sent you in,” Alex grunted as he pushed back against the Sin. “Your technique still sucks.” Envy screamed something at him, but Alex paid him no mind. He slipped his wrist behind Envy’s guard and dragged the thief off-balance, using Envy’s own momentum to throw him into one of his minions. When his Luxray whirled on Alex, the young hero was thrust behind Albrecht’s protective bulk, and the Hariyama shoved one massive hand into the electric type’s face, pushing it backwards with contemptuous ease.
The crowd of Sin fighters rippled as the Cavalier charged through, her Honedge’s tassel wrapped around her arm and buzzing with pleasure as she cut down any who stood in the way of her armored Rapidash. The attacks and weapons of the Sins’ fighters and their pokemon were deflected harmlessly off her suit of soot-stained armor, and it seemed like nothing was capable of stopping her momentum. Captain Unova ran alongside her, a brilliant white light pouring off his body.
George swooped down and shrieked, making the light around Captain Unova flare. His next punch was followed by a powerful shockwave that tore through the Sins’ ranks. The Cavalier raised her glowing blade high, and her Rapidash reared up on its hind legs, kicking at the air. “VIXEN!” she boomed. “YOUR RECKONING HAS COME!”
The Kuromori woman in the wooden mask snarled and leapt at the Cavalier, and her Ninetales snapped at the Rapidash’s legs. The equine fire type kicked out at the Ninetales, its solid-carbon hooves flashing in the light of its flames. The Vixen’s knives clanged against the Cavalier’s Honedge, but the Cavalier had the better leverage, and forced the ninja back. When Captain Unova made to run to her aid, the Cavalier waved him off. “STAY BACK! HER KNIVES ARE POISONED!” she shouted. “THE MEREST SCRATCH IS FATAL! BUT SHE CAN DO NOTHING AGAINST ME!”
The star-spangled hero instead fell in beside Alex, using his supercharged attacks to give the other hero a little room to breathe. “The fancy stuff, huh?” Alex panted as Captain Unova bounced on the balls of his feet.
“Brycen’s moves have nothing on my grandfather’s techniques,” Captain Unova replied. “I’ll pay the price later, if we survive. But the time for holding back is over.”
A gigantic Muk bubbled up from the pavement in front of the two heroes, its sludgy fists crashing down where they had been standing just seconds before. George shrieked and prepared to dive out of the sky, but before he could, a spray of incendiary seeds struck the side of the poison type’s face. “Stay back, partner!” the Gunslinger shouted from atop a pile of rubble. “Y’all are strong, but that ain't nothing against a varmint like that.” He spun out the cylinder of his revolver and slotted three bullets into the chamber. “Y'all just leave it to me.” He fired off three shots, and the bullets buried themselves in the Muk’s slime. The poison type grunted in surprise, but kept advancing until crystals of ice started to spread along its body, freezing the sludge that made up its form.
The Gunslinger had already reloaded, and fired five bullets into the ice before cycling to the sixth chamber of his gun. The final bullet impacted in the center of the other five, and an electric current coursed through the Muk, which then collapsed with a pained groan. The Gunslinger tipped his hat to the two other heroes before reloading and knocking out three Sin enforcers with his sleeping bullets. “Don’t just stand there, partners! This showdown ain’t over yet!”
The rattle of machine gun fire made Alex’s head snap up. Some of Pride’s capos had broken free of the engagement with the Dryad’s army of grass types, and were now targeting the Gunslinger and Geronimo. They ducked for cover behind the rubble, firing off potshots when the Sin fighters stopped to reload. The Cavalier growled in disgust and kicked the Vixen away from her. “CAP, CATCH!” She hurled her shield like a discus, and Captain Unova caught it with a grunt. “USE THAT AND TAKE THEM DOWN!”
Captain Unova slid the shield onto his arm and took off at a sprint towards the gunners, ducking and weaving to present a more difficult target. The bullets rang against the reinforced metal, and soon Captain Unova was on them. He swung out with the shield, using the metal slab to slam into opponents, human and pokemon alike. Shockwaves radiated out from every blow, destabilizing the Sin fighters and leaving them open to the kickboxing hero’s attacks. In the disruption, the Gunslinger and Geronimo managed to re-enter the fray, covering Captain Unova as he fought.
“Hawlucha Man!” Captain Unova called. “We’ve got this under control, but Blaziken Man and Echo are getting overwhelmed.” He braced the Cavalier’s shield at an angle. “So how about a boost?”
Alex nodded and sprinted towards him. He jumped up onto the shield, and Captain Unova pushed it skyward, boosting it with his extraordinary strength. The energy he expelled manifested in the form of a surge in his brilliant aura, and created a crater in the concrete. Alex shot straight into the sky and saw the chaos laid out below him once again. The Gunslinger, Captain Unova and the Cavalier were surrounded by one knot in the fighting, while the Hammer and Volcarona Mask had carved out a second. Between them, the Dryad’s grass types battled against Pride’s massed forces, and Alex assumed that the place where the Phantom’s ghosts were thickest was where he dueled with Wrath. A cluster of mangled and broken forms, both human and pokemon alike, showed where the Ronin had been. But despite his vantage, Alex couldn’t see Hierro in the fighting.
Echo and Blaziken Man were on the crowd’s right flank, holding back a second batch of reinforcements with the strength of Echo’s sonic booms and Blaziken Man’s strafing flames. Alex dove down to meet them, kicking away a Liepard that was creeping towards Mezzo. Echo’s Loudred and Exploud looked ragged, but they were holding the line still. Echo sucked in a deep breath and signaled to her pokemon before launching into a screaming chorus.
“We’re out of control!
Without any fear of facing the madmen!
Out of control!
Defying the gods of hell!
We are… OUT OF CONTROL!”
The sonic wave kept the reinforcements at bay, and Jiro launched a fiery pulse from his gauntlet, creating an explosion in front of the mob as a further deterrent. Masakado used the temporary reprieve to catch his breath before reigniting the feathers around his talons, showing far more fire mastery than Hierro was capable of. Blaziken Man’s suit hummed and whirred as the armored hero prepared another explosive blast. His helmet clicked as he cycled through the various lenses. “Scanners say that there’s at least another thirty of them inbound,” he grunted. “No matter how many we take down, more just keep coming.”
The pipes along Forte’s body whistled seconds before he unleashed resounding basso roar. Crescita soared overhead and added her own ultrasonic blast to the attack, and the two rippling shockwaves collided some ways distant from the heroes, tearing up the ground between them and the Sins’ reinforcements.
A pack of Mightyena bounded over the rubble behind them, and Alex and Mezzo whirled to deal with the dark types. Alex drew his batons and braced himself for combat, but Mezzo called out to him with a bark. He interlaced the fingers of his hands and nodded to Alex to jump in. When the winged hero complied, Mezzo hurled him skyward with a grunt before slamming his palms against the ground and bellowing. The pavement bucked and cracked from the force of Mezzo’s shockwaves, sending the pack tumbling into a shallow fissure.
Alex glided down and held out his fist to Mezzo. “Nice trick.” The Loudred tapped his fist against Alex's and nodded before whirling around and using a burst of sound and air to knock a skittering Ariados away from Echo.
When Alex’s ears stopped ringing, he became aware of low buzzing hum that seemed to come from all around. Clusters of Magneton drifted into the air over their heads, and electricity crackled between them as they spiraled in a circle over the heads of the three heroes. Blaziken Man and Masakado fired several bursts of flames and red-hot plasma at the steel types, but the Magneton had conjured psychic barriers of hardened light in front of them, and the explosions detonated harmlessly against the shields. Crescita tried to attack the Magneton from behind, but they fired off electric attacks to keep her at bay, driving her back over the main battle. Mezzo and Forte attempted to blast them away, but the Magneton had locked themselves together with electromagnetism, and hardly budged an inch.
A crackling electric orb appeared in the air over their heads, bathing the ground with eerie blue-white light. “N-No way we’ll be able t-to get away from th-that,” Echo said.
“It was a trap the whole time,” Blaziken Man growled, tapping his helmet. Sparks flew from his gauntlet, and Alex could see that the electricity in the air was interfering with his suit’s circuitry. Blaziken Man turned on the two young heroes. “This was obviously intended for me. Leave me here. The Magneton may let you slip through.” When Alex started to protest, Jiro held up a hand. “Bad enough one hero has to go down here. Don’t deprive Clarus City of three.”
“A noble sentiment!” someone called. “But hardly necessary!” An invisible force slammed down on three of the Magneton, stunning the steel types and making the circle wobble precariously. There was a crack as an indistinct shape appeared in the air, followed by an ear-piercing shriek. A multi-hued blur plunged down from above and slammed into one of the Magneton, grabbing onto the cluster of steel balls that made up its core and dragging it out of alignment.
Hierro wrenched the Magneton around and jerked on its magnetic protrusions, causing it to fire a blast of electricity into the Magneton to its immediate left. The second Magneton shrieked as it was overloaded with stimuli, and Hierro swung his captured Magneton around again, jumping off it and kicking it into the Magneton to his right, and both steel types careened out of alignment, destabilizing the rest of the array. Newton and Archangel seized the remaining Magneton in a telekinetic hold and swung them around, aiming the supercharged electric attack into the center of the fighting.
Echo signaled to Forte and played a single note on her guitar. “HEROES!” she screamed. “FALL BACK!”
There was a crack, a crash like thunder, and then a heavy reek of ozone as the Magneton released their attack. The lightning exploded out from the center of the broken Magneton circuit, gouging a deep crater in the ground. Humans and pokemon screamed as they were caught up in the blast, their clothing smoldering with the latent heat. The air crackled with static as the burst of electrical power consumed itself in an instant, and the Magneton swarm fell to the ground.
Hierro crashed down next Alex and grinned up at him. Alex stuck out his fist. “Thanks for the save, partner.” Hierro tapped his claw against Alex’s hand and nodded. The Magneton attack had thrown the center of the melee into chaos, giving the heroes of Clarus City time to pull back to Blaziken Man’s position. The Hammer swept aside a crowd of stunned enforcers with the back of one metal hand as Volcarona Mask leapt over his back. The Gunslinger and Geronimo covered the retreat as Captain Unova and the Dryad fought through the crowd. The Cavalier barreled around them, her Rapidash tossing its head and snorting small plumes of fire. Crescita, George, and the Phantom’s ghostly legion looped over their heads, while the Dryad’s army of grass types fell in around them.
The Ronin appeared at Alex’s side, his sword and clothes covered in blood. “Don’t worry, kid,” the older man grunted. “Not much of it’s mine.” The shadows wavered, and the Phantom burst from the ground, Gregor just behind him. The Dusknoir’s fists were surrounded by dancing purple flames, and his usual spectral buzzing had taken on a sharp pitch.
“I nearly had the bastard,” the Phantom growled. “And he slipped away again!”
Archangel drifted down, and the air in front of the heroes rippled as he conjured a psychic barrier. “We won’t hold them for long, Jiro. What’s our plan?”
Blaziken Man squared his shoulders. “These bastards are just going to keep coming, and we aren’t going to be able to hold them forever. We have to cut off the Arbok’s head.”
“Take out D-Dominion, huh?” Echo said.
“Exactly. Masakado and I are going to bring her down, once and for all. I need the rest of you to keep the Sins’ attention here and make her overextend her reinforcements. You only have to hold out a little while longer.” When Volcarona Mask and Alex started to object, Jiro shook his head. “I should be able to resist her mind control, at least for a little while. If we bring too many people in, she could turn us against each other. I can’t risk any of you falling into her hands.”
“But what if you can’t resist her?” the Ronin said.
“Dryad and the Hammer know what to do if that happens,” Blaziken Man said.
“Better hurry, Jiro,” the Hammer said. “Looks like these bastards are going to try their luck!”
Blaziken Man sank into a crouch beside his pokemon partner, and small jets slid out from the legs of his suit. The internal mechanics hummed as he built power, and fire erupted around Masakado’s ankles. With a roar, the two of them shot into the air on twin columns of flame, arcing high over the fight and coming down some ways distant, only to bound away again on another fiery contrail.
Echo strummed her guitar and nodded to Forte. “HEROES OF CLARUS CIY!” she screamed. “LET’S ROCK OUT FOR ROUND THREE!”
The heroes roared in response and charged forward to meet the Sin lines. The Hammer led the charge, the hydraulic pistons in his suit whistling as he pushed the armor to its limit. He crashed into their lines and scattered enforcers and capos before him. The Cavalier plunged into combat, her Honedge buzzing gleefully as she cut down any who stood in her way.
Archangel launched Alex and Hierro with a flick of his fingers, and the pair of them soared out over the fighting before angling down towards a pack of Bisharp. Aethon rocketed by overhead, and Volcarona Mask dropped down beside Alex. The young woman screamed as she whipped her quarterstaff around, hurling flashbangs with abandon. Her voice rose and fell in a ululating battle cry, and rage was etched into every line on her face as she plunged into the enemy ranks with no thought of safety.
Alex started to follow her, but the Phantom and Gregor swept past him. “We got this,” the other man said as he kicked away a Bisharp. “I’ve been keeping Izzy safe since we were kids.”
The Ronin, Captain Unova, and the Dryad all raced past Alex with their pokemon partners just behind, falling on the Sins in a tide of claws, blades and battering strikes. Echo fought a one-woman rearguard action, using her pokemon to blow sonic bursts into the enemy’s flanks while Archangel hurled stragglers into the concussive waves.
“Conceived by the god of thunder
Walking on the earth
Born and raised with northern brethren
Soon he’ll rule the world!”
The pavement bucked and seized as Mezzo summoned another earthquake, making several half-finished buildings collapse into rubble. Forte slammed an electrically-charged fist into the ground and created a burst of static energy, paralyzing the flock of Murkrow that tried to dive bomb Echo.
“Master of the sword and axe
Training ‘til the day turns dark
Powerful and beautiful
He’s gonna face the demon hordes!”
Alex found himself locked in combat with four of Pride’s elite cutters. Blood pounded in his ears and adrenaline was firing in his veins. He spared Hierro a quick glance, and his partner’s eyes sparkled. The Hawlucha puffed up his feathers and fell on the first cutter with a scream, clawing at their face and kicking in two of their ribs. The cutter’s Vigoroth screamed as it charged in towards Alex, but he sidestepped and cracked the normal type upside the head with his baton as it barreled past, running straight into the second cutter and his pair of Krokorok. A Scyther swept down with its twin scythes, and Alex caught them on his batons, straining against the insect’s bulk for just a moment as Hierro dispatched his opponent and fell on the Scyther with a fiery punch that knocked it off its feet.
The fourth cutter wrapped a length of chain around her arm and signaled her Nidoking. The hulking poison type tried to grab Hierro, but the nimble flying type ducked under the Nidoking’s bulky frame and swept its legs out from underneath it, sending the beast tumbling to the ground. Alex jumped over the Nidoking, taking care to avoid its poisoned spines, and slammed his baton against the metal on the cutter’s arm. An electric current passed through the steel, and her eyes rolled back in her head as she took the full force of the charge.
“Bastard son of lightning
Born to kick your ass!
Bastard son of thunder
Living hard and driving fast!”
Alex saw Newton blink into existence in the middle of a cloud of flying type pokemon and snap his fingers. The Kadabra’s eyes flashed as gravity intensified, and the entire mob of avian pokemon crashed to the ground. Alex whistled to the psychic type. “Get Archangel for me!” Newton nodded and vanished as quickly as he appeared.
“Bastard son of lightning
Sworn to fight and die!
Bastard son of thunder
To the Cold Halls we will ride! YEAAAAAAAH!”
There was a pop as Archangel appeared at Alex’s side. The esper’s hair danced around his face at incongruous angles, and with a roll of his shoulders, the psychic hero hurled back all enemies in a fifteen foot radius. “What do you need, Hawlucha Man?”
“The other heroes are handling things here. I need you to get me to Jiro.”
“You heard what he said! You can’t defend against Dominion—”
“She’ll be too focused on Jiro to see me coming. He shouldn’t have gone without backup.” When Archangel looked torn, Alex persisted. “You know we’re strongest when we stand together. We all teamed up because we knew we couldn’t face her alone.”
The esper nodded. “I don’t like going against orders but… you’re right. Hang on.” He grabbed Alex’s hand and signaled to Newton. The Kadabra put one hand on Archangel’s wrist and the other on Hierro’s back. There was a pop, and Alex felt a rush of wind, and then suddenly he was standing just beyond Echo, clear of the fighting. Archangel took a few paces back and raised his hands. “You two set yourselves. This is going to get you where you need to be, but it probably won’t be terribly pleasant.” He thrust his left hand out in front of him and drew his right hand back to his ear, like he was pulling on a bowstring. Alex felt an invisible force seize him around his midsection and pull backwards. “Ready… go!” Archangel shouted, and Alex was flung airborne and forward.
The howling wind stung his eyes and forced his hands to his sides as he and Hierro shot out across the Sins’ compound. When the drag lessened, they both spread their wings and caught an updraft, spiraling higher as they approached the far edge of the compound.
Jiro proved easy to locate. Fiery blasts shot out from the empty windows of a half-finished tower. The bottom was a concrete structure that probably made for a passable bunker, but the upper levels were just open scaffolding. Alex signaled to Hierro by waggling his wings, and the pair swooped around the tower, catching another updraft and spiraling up around the structure. They reached the apex of their flight and tucked their wings in, diving through the scaffolding and straight down to the half-completed floor below. At the last second, Alex and Hierro spread their wings, turned in the air, and kicked straight down, breaking through the drywall and insulation of the ceiling below and dropping straight into a brawl.
Alex dodged around a Machoke and delivered three quick punches to pressure points on the fighting type’s back, making it stumble forward. Hierro back flipped and kicked the Machoke in the center of its muscular chest, and it crumpled with a groan. The Hawlucha landed and struck his talons together before delivering two fiery punches to a Bisharp. Alex wove around a pair of Gurdurr and struck each of them with his batons before turning on their trainer, shocking the man and kicking him into his comrades.
“What are you doing here?” Jiro barked as he blasted a Machamp with a bolt of fiery plasma.
“Backing you up!” Alex shouted back.
A Weavile darted through the press and lunged at Hierro, Masakado grabbed it by the scruff of its neck and tossed it into a machete-wielding anarchist. The Blaziken glared at the Hawlucha, but Hierro was too preoccupied grappling with a Gabite that had tried to ambush Masakado to notice
Alex fought his way towards Jiro, taking up a position at the armored hero’s back. “You brought us all here because you didn’t think you could fight Dominion on your own. I get you’re trying to do the noble sacrifice thing, but Hierro and I owe you one for helping us. I’m just paying you back, and the others are going to be right behind me.” Alex kneed one of Pride’s capos in the groin, and when he bent double, the winged hero smashed his forearm into his temple.
“You’d deliver yourselves to Dominion on a silver platter?”
“You did it first. But if you’re worried, why don’t we just wrap this up before the others get here?”
Alex could tell Jiro was grinding his teeth behind his helmet. His armor whirred as he locked hands with an enemy Pangoro and tried to push the hulking pokemon back. Tiny jets of fire burst from the bottom of Jiro’s boots and the elbows of his suit, and with a growl he threw the Pangoro through the half-finished wall. “I’ve trained for months to resist Dominion’s mind control. How are you going to protect yourself?”
“I heard from a friend of a friend that you can fight her off if you’re enough of a stubborn asshole.” Alex ducked and weaved around a trio of Scrafty, toppling one with a low sweeping kick and grabbing a second and tossing it at a snarling Liepard. When the third closed in, he kicked it in the chest. “Hierro, you’re up!” The Hawlucha whirled and caught the Scrafty, grabbing it in a lock and kicking it into one of Gluttony’s thugs, and the pair went down in a tumble of limbs. Alex grinned at Jiro. “And I’m nothing if not a stubborn asshole.”
Jiro shook his head. “All right, Hawlucha Man. We’ll do it your way.” He flexed the fingers on his right gauntlet, and the reactor on the palm started to hum. “Good thing I do my best work under pressure. Stand back!” He slammed the palm of his hand against the floor and detonated three explosive pulses. The floor collapsed beneath Jiro’s feet, and he fell through, descending on a plume of fire from his boots. Masakado and Hierro jumped through the hole, and Alex followed an instant later.
Once he had passed through, Masakado hurled discs of fire up through the gap, deterring any pursuers from following them to the lower floor. Jiro’s helmet clicked as he cycled through the various lenses and imagers he had installed. “Thermal scans showed that Dominion and her inner circle were on this level. I was trying to clear out any backup she might have ready to hand.” He turned and shot a fire pulse at the top of the door to the access stairs, bringing down a pile of rubble. “That should buy us some time.” He nodded to Masakado and Alex. “Let’s take Dominion down.”
They blasted through the reinforced door of the bunker Dominion had sealed herself in, and were met by a second, smaller crowd of Sin cutters. Lust and Gluttony stood behind the armed fighters, their expressions grim. “Don’t let them through!” Gluttony shouted, slapping the flank of her Hippowdon. The ground type charged forward, and Hierro raced to meet it. Jiro launched a series of pulses at a Ferrothorn, and the steel type’s spiked tendrils lashed through the air. Masakado stepped in front of Alex and waved his claw in a circular motion, conjuring a wall of light in the air in front of them as the Sin cutters opened fire. The Blaziken held up the protective screen until the Sins had emptied their guns and nodded to Alex before racing into the fray. Alex wove around one of the cutters, knocking the gun from her hands and stunning her with his batons. He kicked away a Mightyena, and when he whirled again, Lust was sweeping down on him with a long, gilded dagger. He paused just long enough for Alex to throw up a baton and block the strike, and pressed his weight against the blade, leaning close to the hero.
“Make it look good,” Stocks hissed. “Dominion can’t suspe—”
Alex decked him.
Stocks fell to the ground stunned, one hand covering his broken nose. Sure, Stocks had always fed Alex solid information and his help had probably saved many Clarus City civilians from harm. But he was still a member of the Sins, and Alex had wanted to sock the puffed-up bastard since the night they met.
“Just keeping it believable,” Alex said with a shrug. Lust groaned and dragged himself away. He wrapped a hand around his Xatu’s leg, and the psychic type teleported away.
“Stocks!” Gluttony shrieked. “You coward! You filthy coward!”
“You got your own problems, Mueller!” Alex shouted.
Hierro had taken to the air, looping up around Gluttony’s Hippowdon and crashing down on top of its maw, slamming its jaws shut with a kick. The ground type groaned as Hierro’s weight forced its head to slam against the ground, and it collapsed with a heavy thud. Gluttony’s Honchkrow screamed and sped towards the Hawlucha, but Masakado interceded, slamming an uppercut into the flying type’s chest as it dove. The Blaziken pivoted on his heel, fire erupting around his wrists, and he put down four Bisharp with as many punches, then swung out with a roundhouse kick that caught the last two Sin cutters and hurled them out of the bunker.
Jiro stalked forward, the reactor on his palm glowing. “Go, Eva. I’ll deal with you later.”
Gluttony slumped against the wall of the bunker, ducking her head and accentuating her double chin. “She’ll destroy you,” Gluttony hissed. “She’ll make you burn everything you love, and then she’ll destroy you.”
“She’ll certainly try,” Jiro replied evenly. “Now stand aside.”
Gluttony staggered out of the bunker’s antechamber, chuckling to herself. Jiro glanced at Alex and nodded as they approached the reinforced door to the bunker’s inner chamber. “Light it up,” Alex said.
Jiro placed his palm against the bunker door and blasted it off its hinges. The warped, smoldering door fell inwards with a shriek of rending metal. Dominion sat within, guarded by four expressionless men in identical suits. Her Gothorita hummed to itself in the corner. The esper herself sat on a lavishly upholstered arm chair, one resting on her temple, the other wrapped around the stem of a martini glass. She placed her drink down on a small table next to her and pursed her lips in an elegant pout. “So you’re here. Finally.” She swept to her feet and sighed. “It’s not polite to make a woman wait so long, you know. I was beginning to think you would stand me up.”
Jiro kept his shining gauntlet level. “Come quietly, Marinette.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Dominion giggled. Her guards had raised their guns, but Dominion lowered her index finger, and all four men holstered their weapons in unison. “I think it’s time the two of us had a talk, Jiro Sasaki.” Jiro went rigid as Dominion turned her gaze on him, and his gauntlet slowly lowered. The esper laughed again. “Oh, Jiro, you know you’re not strong enough to resist me. It’s pointless to try.” Masakado tried to jump to his trainer’s defense, but Dominion flicked her fingers, and the Blaziken’s arms snapped to his sides.
“Jiro!” Alex cried, and started towards him.
“Stop,” Dominion commanded. Alex’s limbs locked in place, and no matter how much he strained, he couldn’t get his body to budge. Hierro’s eyes went wide, and Alex could only assume he was in the esper’s power too. Dominion tutted as she walked towards him. “So you’re the Avenbrooke boy? I’ve heard quite a lot about you from the capos you’ve embarrassed. But to see you in the flesh…” A shiver ran down Alex’s spine, and he felt a strange pressure in the back of his head, a rippling that was almost like fingers running through his brain, sifting through his thoughts. Dominion’s eyes took on a faint glow as she rifled through his mind, and she finally gave a derisive sniff. “Why, you’re not much after all.” She flicked her index and middle finger, and Alex dropped to his knees with a gasp. “You’re hardly even worth my attention.”
“You… arrogant… bitch,” Alex rasped.
“Oh, don’t try to talk tough, Hawlucha Man. What can the weakest hero in Clarus City do against someone like me?”
“It’s not true,” Jiro hissed. “Don’t listen to her, she’s just trying to get into your head!”
“I’m already there,” Dominion replied. “And I must admit, I’m not terribly impressed. You have to push yourself to your absolute limit just to keep up, Hawlucha Man. You’re all but falling apart at the seams. It’s not even worth my time to keep you around as a pawn.” She snapped her fingers. “Jiro, let’s put him out of his misery.”
Jiro raised his gauntlet again and pointed it towards Alex. The reactor in the palm began to glow as it gathered a charge. “No!” Jiro cried. “I won’t do this! I won’t let you strike down the most promising hero we have!” His fingers twitched as he tried to close his fist over the reactor and shut down the charge. Alex strained against Dominion’s psychic hold, trying to move just an inch, to twitch a finger, but the esper’s will pressed down on him like a tremendous weight.
Dominion’s brow furrowed as she turned her attention on Jiro. “I told you already, it’s pointless to resist. Now do as I say!”
The force of her will pressed down hard enough on Jiro that it left him incapable of speech. A wordless scream of defiance tore from Jiro’s throat as he slowly twisted his wrist to point away from Alex. There was a flash as Jiro discharged the pulse into the ground a few feet to Alex’s left, and his ragged breathing came out strangely distorted from the speakers in his helmet. “Don’t tell me what to do,” Jiro hissed.
Dominion turned to face Blaziken Man and lifted her chin to glare into his eyes. “I will destroy you, Jiro. I will make you experience a thousand years of torture in an instant. I will—”
“Shut up.”
Dominion whirled on Alex. “What?!”
Blaziken Man clamped down on Dominion’s arm. “I think you’ve said enough.”
“Unhand me!” Dominion screamed, and Jiro recoiled with a jerky motion. “I’m tired of playing around. I’m ending this n—”
A rumble shook the building. Gunshots and the sound of a commotion filtered through from outside, and crashes could be heard outside the bunker. Dominion snapped her fingers at her guards. “Find out what that is, and take care of it.” The men rushed out of the room, and Dominion tried to compose herself. In the brief lapse in her concentration, Alex regained a tiny measure of control, and he slowly wrapped his hand around one of his batons.
Outside of the bunker, he heard the sound of thuds, metal striking metal, a few gunshots, and grunts of pain. One of Dominion’s guards was kicked back into the bunker, a deep cut across his chest. Alex managed to turn his head enough to see three figures silhouetted against the doorway of the bunker. A golden halo danced around the head of the figure in front, and he raised one hand in the air.
“Be afraid, Dominion.”
He snapped his fingers, and the ceiling groaned as a massive crack split the masonry. Metal screamed and crashed as Archangel tore a massive fissure in the building, letting in the light of the moon from outside, and widening the door to the bunker enough that the Ronin and the Hammer could walk in unimpeded. The Ronin reached down and hauled Alex to his feet.
“You came?” Alex asked.
“I can’t take care of Avenbrooke on my own, kid.” He held his sword in front of him.
The air around them popped and cracked as Dominion and Archangel engaged in a psychic battle. The Hammer’s suit hissed as he guarded Archangel’s back, bullets pinging off his armor. “We’ve got company!” the Hammer called. “And I don’t know how long we can hold! What’s the play, Jiro?”
“Fall back,” Jiro said. “We need to retreat.”
“No!” Dominion snapped. “I won’t allow it!” She thrust out her hand toward Jiro, and the armored hero tensed up again.
Alex hurled his baton at Dominion, striking her forehead just above her eye. The blow stunned the esper, and she staggered backwards. Jiro whipped around and fired three pulses at Dominion’s feet, conjuring a curtain of flames to bisect the bunker. The Ronin tossed a pokeball at the ground to summon his Samurott and threw Alex and Hierro across the water type’s back. He slapped Muramasa’s flank, and the Samurott charged past the Hammer and Archangel. The Ronin raced at his pokemon’s side, his silver hair streaming back from his face as he held his sword in a high guard with both hands.
Jiro engaged the rockets in his boots and shot through the mangled doorway, driving back the Sin reinforcements with a barrage of fire. Masakado ran alongside Muramasa, and the Blaziken had managed to recover Alex’s thrown baton. He lashed out at enemy pokemon with fiery kicks and battered them away with the crackling stun baton. The Hammer surged forward and barreled clear through the debris that blocked the building’s entrance, and Archangel hurled the rubble into the massed Sin ranks. As they left, they heard Dominion screaming orders to her underlings to stop the heroes by any means necessary.
Echo’s wailing guitar shocked Alex back to his senses, and the bellows of the Dryad’s grass type heavyweights punctuated the supersonic bursts. The heroes of Clarus had indeed followed Alex, and now maintained a defensive line in front of Dominion’s command center, cutting off the main body of the Sin cutters. “Took you long enough,” Volcarona Mask quipped to Archangel as the five heroes burst out into the night air. “Eddie and I were about to go in after you.”
“Did you get her?” Captain Unova asked.
Jiro shook his head. “Too strong. We need to pull back.”
“Damn it,” the Gunslinger spat.
“We’ll have to take the west exit,” the Dryad said. “We’ll try to lose them in the Hives.”
The Combee Hives were a local name for the complex of luxury high-rise apartment buildings that had sprung up along the waterfront in Ridgewood, not far from the Sins’ compound. The recent turmoil in the city had stalled construction, so most of the superstructures had remained as just towering edifices of abandoned cranes, naked steel beams, and scaffolding jutting up against the city’s southern skyline. It would be easy enough to get lost in the sprawling construction site and fall back to a safe distance where the heroes could resume their civilian identities and slip back into the shadows.
Jiro nodded. “And we need to go fast. Dominion will get out of there before long, and we need to be gone before that happens.”
The Phantom snapped his fingers, and two Haunter drifted down to hover next to him. “Cornelius, Erasmus, gather the swarm and cover our retreat. Have Titus and the reserves ready to fall back to our position in case things get bad, and tell Echo we’re about to retreat.” When the Haunter shot off, he turned to the Dryad. “Should we use the Rose and Iron Legions to keep them off our flanks?” The Dryad nodded, and set about commanding her grass types.
The heroes prepared themselves for their desperate flight, and the Ronin put a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “You all right, kid? Muramasa can carry you if you need to.”
Alex shook his head. “I’m fine. I’m not hurt. Just a little rattled.”
“Understandable.”
“Fall in!” Jiro barked. “We stay together, and only fight if we have to. Go, go, go!”
They took off over the ravaged ground of the Sin compound, Jiro and the Hammer in the lead to clear a path. The Sin reserve force charged after them with a collective roar, only to be set upon by the Phantom’s ghosts. Forte, bringing up the rear of the column, slid and turned around, blasting their pursuers with a powerful sonic boom, scattering the front ranks. Hierro sprinted up to the top of a rubble pile and launched himself into the air, looping over Alex’s head to protect his human partner. Aethon, Crescita and George flitted in the sky above the heroes, torn between fleeing with their human partners and falling back to guard the retreat.
The rattle of gunfire echoed behind them, and Archangel shot up and turned in midair, throwing up a rippling psychic barrier. “That won’t hold for long!” he shouted. Whenever he could, the Gunslinger and Geronimo spun to launch potshots into the Sin ranks, but the Nuzleaf was growing tired, and the Gunslinger was nearly out of bullets. The Cavalier galloped in loops around the column of ragged heroes, jeering at the Sins over her shoulder and charging off to stop any who managed to break through the rearguard.
After several minutes of hard sprinting, they reached the barbed wire fence that surrounded the Sins’ compound, and the Hammer wrenched it down with one yank of his suit’s hydraulic arm. He waved the rest of the heroes through before tossing the length of torn barbed wire behind them as a further impediment to their pursuers.
When they reached the first of the Hives, Volcarona Mask whistled to Jiro. “Do we stay close or split?”
“Stay,” Jiro replied. “If we have to make a stand, we’re better off doing it together.”
They slowed their pace as they crossed the site, and the Dryad dispersed her grass types into a wider perimeter. They crept from shadow to shadow, and heard the Sin force closing in behind them. After their earlier exertions, Alex doubted they would be able to get away quickly enough if they were ambushed.
The cool breeze off the ocean lifted Hierro higher, and the Hawlucha abruptly dove down and signaled to Alex. “We’ve got company,” Alex groaned.
The Ronin and the Cavalier stepped forward, their blades raised. Jiro strode up behind them and raised his gauntlet, firing a warning shot into the darkness. A crazed laugh rose up from the resulting cloud of smoke, and shadowy figures resolved themselves from the murk. Wrath, Envy and Greed limped at the head of the Sin column, and Pride supported Dominion’s weight just behind them. All of them looked just as ragged as the heroes, but they seemed determined to keep up their dogged pursuit.
Dominion pulled her lips back in a sneer. “No more games! Destroy them!”
Wrath pulled the pin on an incendiary grenade and hurled it towards the heroes, but the Hammer moved just as quickly, seizing an abandoned backhoe in one metal fist and tossing it towards the grenade. The machine exploded, temporarily cutting off the Sins from the heroes. “Run!” the Hammer barked.
A rumble shook the ground as the heroes ran, and the water in the harbor began to seethe as something stirred beneath the surface. With a roar, two towering Gyarados burst from the inky black water and dragged their coils up onto the embankment. They opened their fanged maws wide, and a brilliant light appeared in their mouths. When they launched the beams of concentrated energy, Archangel sprang forward on a telekinetic pulse and threw his hands out before him, hardening the air over the heroes with his will.
A scream tore from his throat as he pushed back against the hyper beams, and cracks began to appear in the psychic barrier. “Get out of the way!” he screamed to his companions. “I can’t hold it!” Just before the barrier broke, he swung his hands to the side, warping the air and redirecting the beam back towards the Sins, scorching a long black line across the ground. The esper sagged and plummeted from the sky, and Captain Unova raced to catch him before he hit the ground.
Archangel had bought them a precious moment, and the Gyarados moved sluggishly as they dropped back into the harbor to pursue the heroes from the water. The Hammer sprinted to the head of their ragged formation and pointed to a nearby crane. “Jiro! Upper right support beam!”
Blaziken Man nodded and shot a superheated pulse at the scaffolding’s base, melting through the metal and causing the towering crane to groan. The Hammer broke off from the group and slammed both of his fists into a second bit of scaffolding, and the crane began to tip ponderously over. The Sins hung back as all twelve stories of it came crashing down.
The heroes put as much distance between themselves and their pursuers as they could, but they didn’t get far until fatigue forced them to stop in the shadow of one of the Hives. Most of them were worn out from fighting, and their breaths came in ragged gasps. Air whistled through Forte’s pipes as the Exploud struggled for breath, and the Gunslinger leaned over to vomit from exertion.
“We can’t fight them all,” the Dryad said, admitting what they all were thinking.
“WE LOST OUR SHOT AT DOMINION,” the Cavalier added. “WE DEALT THEM A HEAVY BLOW, BUT NOT A MORTAL ONE.”
“If a few of us stay here and hold them off, the rest can get away,” Captain Unova said. “It would cost our lives, but enough of us could live to fight another day.”
“I’ll stay.” Jiro squared his shoulders. “It was my hubris that got us here in the first place, and it’s my job to bear the costs.”
“YOU HAVE MY SWORD, JIRO,” the Cavalier said. “I CAN TAKE A FEW OF THEM WITH ME WHEN I GO TO MEET MY MAKER.”
“Me too.” The Ronin turned his head to the side and spat. “This ain't a bad way to go.”
“No.”
They all turned to the Hammer. The older man’s suit hissed as he clenched his fists. “All of you will go. If it’s come to this, then it’s for the best that Clarus City only loses one of its heroes. One who doesn’t have much longer anyway.” His eyes hardened as he dared any of them to defy him. “This city needs all of you, and I’m the only one strong enough to stop them in their tracks long enough for you to get away.” His beard quirked up as he tried to force a smile. “I mean it, Jiro. For once, you can respect your elders enough to grant me my last request without arguing about it.”
The Ronin and the Cavalier nodded to Johannes, respecting the old hero’s choice to die on his own terms. The Cavalier pounded one fist over her heart and turned her Rapidash away, and the Ronin snapped off a salute as he melted into the shadows. After a moment’s hesitation, the Gunslinger tipped his hat as he and Captain Unova followed them and disappeared further into the Hives. When Jiro stepped forward to say something, the Dryad wiped her tears from her eyes, took him by the arm, and dragged him away.
Volcarona Mask shook her head. “Don’t make me lose you too.” Alex could hear her voice breaking. “You can’t, Johannes.”
The Hammer inclined his head to the five young heroes of Clarus City. “It’s going to be all right.”
“N-No!” Echo cried. “How is th-this all r-right? We c-can’t just l-leave you! How c-can w-we c-call ourselves heroes if we do?”
“By making me proud. By defending this city when I can’t anymore.” His suit hissed as he started to turn.
“But you were going to train us,” Alex said. “Without you, how can we do that?”
Johannes managed to smile for real. “Alex, you were already a great hero. There’s nothing more for me to teach you. I’ve been proud of you since the first day we met.” Alex raised a hand to his mouth to choke off a sob, and Hierro took his hand. Johannes turned to Echo. “You too, Ingrid. You were already my star pupil, so now it’s time for you to be a star.”
Volcarona Mask was weeping openly now. “I wouldn’t be who I am without you. After my parents… I can’t do it again!”
“Isabelle, I’m sorry. I wanted to see this through to the end, but… I’m sorry. Your parents would have been so proud of the woman you’ve become. And Edgar,” Johannes inclined his head. “You’re ten times the man your father ever was. He might never have approved of you, but know that I did.”
He turned at last to Archangel. “Joshua, I’m counting on you to keep all of them safe, and keep them united. Dominion is strong, but she’s nothing compared to you. If you stand together, I know she’ll never be able to win.” Archangel nodded and place his hand over his heart. The Hammer smiled and turned away. “Now go, all of you. I can hold them, but not for long.”
“No!” Volcarona Mask cried, and tried to run forward. Gregor’s hand shot out and grabbed her arm, and though the young woman strained against the Dusknoir’s grip, she couldn’t break free. The ghost type loomed up behind the Phantom and pulled Volcarona Mask and Echo into his spectral embrace, opening up a yawning black void that consumed Mezzo, Forte and Aethon.
Tears stained the Phantom’s mask as he and the two female heroes disappeared into the darkness. “I’ll look after them,” he said, just before he vanished.
“Good lad,” the Hammer rumbled.
Alex felt Joshua take his hand. “Goodbye, Johannes.”
“Auf wiedersehen,” he replied.
The wind suddenly howled in Alex’s ears as Newton placed his hand on Joshua’s shoulder, whisking them away.
Johannes watched them disappear and wiped away his own tears. They were all so young. He wished he could have had just a bit more time.
He squared his shoulders and gestured to Siegfried and Albrecht, crouching nearby. “You two don’t have to stay, you know.” The Conkledurr and Hariyama shook their heads and shuffled over to stand with their trainer, one last time. “That’s my boys.”
He pointed to the concrete support pylons that made up the Hive’s foundation. “We’re going to weaken those, and then we’re going to wait until Dominion brings the party to us.”
They didn’t have long to wait. They heard the Sin mob well before it came into view. The tramp of their feet, the baying howls of their pokemon, and the rasp of the Gyarados’ scales along the ground almost drowned out the sound of the Hammer’s heart beating in his ears. Dominion limped to the front of the procession and folded her arms. “So they abandoned you here?” she jeered.
“If you want them, you’ll have to go through me.”
“Just one old man? I’m quaking in my boots.”
“You should be,” the Hammer said, mostly to himself. Then, louder, “I don’t have all night, you psychic bitch! If you’re coming, then bring it on!”
Dominion laughed and snapped her fingers. Her ragged army raced forward, and some of Wrath’s anarchists howled along with their pokemon. They had been bloodied and bruised, same as the heroes, and now they would get to exact their price in blood.
Or so they thought.
“Let them come,” Johannes muttered. He slowly stepped back into the darkness of the half-completed Hive, to the center support beam. When most of the Sins were in the building’s shadow, the Hammer raised his voice again. “Dominion! If you have your sights set on this city, then it’s time I taught you a very important lesson!” He slammed both of his massive steel fists into the central pylon of the Hive, reducing it to a pile of dust and rubble. The Hive groaned and began listing forward, hundreds of tons of steel and concrete caught in gravity’s hold. The building screamed and roared as it collapsed around him, but the Hammer bellowed as loud as he could to make sure Dominion heard.
“ALWAYS BET ON THE HEROES OF CLARUS CITY!”
Some distance away, just beyond the Hives, the five young heroes of Clarus saw the building come down. Isabelle fought against Edgar, trying to run back the way they came. “JOHANNES!”
“No,” Ingrid whispered, sinking to her knees. “No, no, no.”
Alex slumped against the wall of a warehouse and watched as the collapse triggered a chain reaction, bringing down two of the nearby buildings as well. He felt something inside him, a sharp pain in his chest. Another sob forced its way out, and Hierro buried his face in Alex’s chest. Alex held the shaking Hawlucha close, and realized that he was trembling too.
“She’s not dead,” Joshua whispered. “After all that, and she’s still not dead?”
“You can tell?” Edgar asked. The esper just nodded, incapable of saying anything more. Edgar took a deep breath. “Then the real war starts now. Dominion may be alive, and for all we know, the rest of the top brass could be too. We might have weakened them, but they’ll come back spitting mad.”
Alex managed to nod, but couldn’t say anything more. As he watched the cloud of dust from the Hives’ collapse rise up to obscure the moon, he knew what all of them were thinking. Clarus City’s strongest hero, the greatest of all of them, was dead.
Without him, what chance did the rest of them have?
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", but I do value the input. In hindsight, I probably could have balanced some of these subtextual things better, but at the time of writing it felt right for the plot to keep chugging along. I do plan to tie up these loose threads and make the characters have these discussions at some point, but I do worry that I might wind up doing it in a clumsy way. It's going to make arc three a little more difficult to write than the previous two, for sure. And I think no matter how I do it, I won't wind up doing it in a satisfactory way, just because these are big questions, and I like to leave some things at the end of the story unresolved. For all of Jiro and Isabelle's money, they can't fix Clarus overnight, and I want to leave the characters things to work on even after the curtain falls.