Well hunky dory and howdy do! Here's the latest issue, right
kinda almost on schedule. Next issue will be a part of Flame Wars 3, so
if you haven't read the other parts first things may get a wee bit
confusing....
And I'd like to give a special thanks to RACC Reviews and Michael
Friedman for the glowing review. It's always nice to have positive
feedback. =) =)
Much thankings for reviews guys:
RACC Reviews
Pam VanMuijen
Ian Porell
Scott Johnson
Jamas Enright
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DERELICT Press Presents
The twelfth issue of
/~~\/~~\ {] /~~\ (^^^ || ***** /~~\
/ /\/\ \ [) ~\__ (^^ || ,' ~\__
/__/ \__\ (} \__/ ( || ', \__/
" Making a Splash "
A psuedo-Acraphobe title
._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._.'COVER`._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._.
This issue's cover ran off with my .sig, and will be back next
issue.
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She awoke choking, hacking water up onto the uncaring ground. For
a second she thought she was back home, and had dove too deeply again
into the pool she and her parents frequented during the summer months.
She felt embarassed, and prepared to apologize for her misjudgement of
the depth. It was then she heard the voices chattering around her, and
remembered the truth. Her heart grew black with despair.
She wasn't home at all. She was still here in this horrible
alien place, half drowned and probably surrounded by natives... She felt
the sun shining down gently on her wings, and the ground beneath her soft
and loamy. Slowly her hearing came into focus, and she heard for the
first time the voices of the natives of this land.
" Just great. Some chick with wings just falls out of the sky,
and we're supposed to just come in and save her," said one caustic
voice." The accent sounded wrong, like nothing she had heard of in her
life.
" Well Paytan, we are kinda heroes. I mean we're not really the
best out there, but it's pretty much in our job description, you know?
Unless it's Antihero Week or something. Here, hold Binky a sec, willya?"
replied a second voice, with the same alien accent.
Kismet could hear more voices in the background, a constant
sussuration of mutters and questions. There must be hundreds of them, she
thought. All those people, moving in one place, so close they shouldn't
be able to breathe. She tensed up involuntarily, and tried to force her
panic away. If she panicked, they'd be able to get her without much of a
fight. She had to stay calm, so they couldn't outsmart her. Must stay
calm, and try to hear what they were planning to do to her.
" Well, it doesn't look like she's awake yet," said the second
voice,"I guess we'll have to try and get her onto the back of my
hoverbike and back to LNHHQ. Maybe Organic Lass can take a look at her."
Kismet wondered briefly what this 'LNHHQ' was, and opened her left eye
to a tiny slit, attempting to take in her surroundings. She could hear
someone moving around behind her, and could almost make out a faint
blurry shape standing off to the side. Maybe if she opened her eyes a bit
wider... Then someone touched her. Or more specifically _grabbed_ her
shoulders.
Involutarily, Kismet jerked into a sitting position and thrust
her wings out wildly behind her. She felt them slam into something, and
the beginning of a protest cut off by a rush of air expelled from
someone's lungs. She used her wings to push herself up from the ground
and into a standing position, giving the crowd of ten or so creatures
around her a panicked glance before attempting to leap into the sky.
Her wings stretched open, twin hearts sending blood rushing
through their expanses, and had time to beat downwards once when someone
tackled her below the waist, wrapping their arms around her midsection
and doing an excellent impression of dead weight. Her wings rose up
again for another beat, Kismet hoping frantically that she had gained
enough clearance with that first jump into the sky. She hadn't. Kismet
and the ground met again, as the top half of her body slammed into the
dirt. One of her wings and the lower half of her body were tangled in
whoever had attacked her though, and Kismet kicked at them frantically.
Why were they doing this?! Why?! Why couldn't they just let her
alone?! She screamed and twisted around to slam her fist into the girl's
back. Paytan grunted and held on, wishing fervently she still had Dirmarw
on her so she could beat this crazy chick to a bloody pulp. And where the
hell was Brittany anyways?! Geez, did she have to do everything herself?
Paytan released her grip and rolled away, the crowd scattering around
her.
" Look, we're just trying to help you, okay?" she yelled at the
girl, jumping to her feet. The girl spun at her, eyes narrowed.
" Why do you do this? Leave me, all of you! GO AWAY!!" she
screamed. Paytan rolled her eyes. But the girl did have the oddest
accent...somewhere between Victorian English and something else.... The
girl came at her, and Paytan dodged to the left, noticing Brit lifting
herself up from where she had fallen.
" Britanny!! I - "
" Weirdness Girl!"
" I need back-up here!" yelled Paytan. Brit grinned devilishly
and ran over.
" Only if you'll call me Weirdness Girl," she whispered, then
dodged out of the way as the winged girl threw another punch.
" Oh, bite me!" yelled Paytan, glaring over at the grinning
net.heroine. "We're in the middle of a fight, and you want to argue over
names?! Get serious, Brittany!"
" Weirdness Girl," yelled back Brittany, as the girl came in for
another punch. Brit took the hit to her shoulder, then grabbed the girl's
arm and fell over. She took the girl down with her, getting bludgeoned by
a wildly flapping wing in the process. Paytan growled something
incoherent then planted both feet firmly on the ground.
" Keep her busy for a sec, _Brittany_! I'm going to try
something!"
" Wrfdnyss Gffrl!" came back a muffled yell, as Brittany and the
girl rolled across the ground for another few feet. Paytan sighed and
placed the tips of her thumb, pinky, and index fingers on the sides of
her ribcage, two middle fingers brought in to touch the center of her
palm. She closed her eyes and centered herself, felt her power swell
within her and wash around the inside of her soul. It glowed a sickly
neon green, stronger now from the life she had absorbed from the man in
the helicopter. He didn't deserve it, whispered a tiny part of herself,
but she shoved it down and away and began to funnel the energy into her
shoulders, down her arms, and through the circuit formet by her hands,
back into her center, then upwards again, over and over.
It was peaceful in a way. She could feel it roaring through her,
as if she had become the bed to a river, or the precipe over which a
waterfall soars. Paytan stopped for a second, just to feel it thunder and
ebb, as if she were being swept clean by it. Clean from all her past
horrors, all her memories. She wondered for a moment what it would feel
like if she were more powerful, if she could do things real mages could
do. If she had a chance... then she shook the thought away and opened her
eyes, squinting through the pale green haze that covered her eyes now.
That covered her entire body now, in fact, rimming her in a pale green
glow that clashed oddly with the sunlight around her.
She saw Brittany and the girl wrestling on the ground a few feet
away, covered in dirt and bits of grass. Savannah stood off to the side,
eyes moving slowly across the crowd and towards the sounds of the fight.
She looked frustrated.
" Brittany, get out of the way!" screamed Paytan, feeling the
power swell within her again. Brittany got a knee between herself and the
girl and forced them apart, spinning wildly off to the side as the girl
fell over one of her own wings and onto her back. Paytan took aim,
waiting patiently until the girl had begun to stand again, then released
her hold on her side, swinging her arms out and forwards, directly into
line with the winged girl. A torrent of wild green power rushed outwards
from her, slamming into the girl's body and hurling her back to the
ground again.
It was unfocused, and not very strong, but it was still a magical
blast. Paytan grimaced and tried to force more pressure into her system,
tried to make her bolt count for more, but she wasn't skilled enough. The
energy still washed over Kismet though, whirling torrents of force,
stinking of anger and pain. She tried to hold onto consciousness, to what
she saw as her last chance at freedom, but her strength wasn't enough.
The last thing Kismet saw as she sunk again into blackness was the girl
sorceress, strain on her face, wild green power flowing from her hands.
-=ð=- -=ð=-
At the outskirts of Net.ropolis, there is a run-down parking lot.
Well, actually Net.ropolis is a really big city, with a correspondingly
large outskirts, so it's probably got quite a few abandoned parking lots
and warehouses hanging about. For the mimes and such. But this particular
parking lot, full of dead weeds and lots of trash, belonged to a tiny
abandoned building. The building itself used to belong to one Mama
Rizotti, a strange woman reputed to have a few villain contacts in her
shadier dealings. She was known as a local alcohol supplier to the gangs
of the area, and could pawn the occasional stolen bit of jewelry, if
convinced. Then one day she up and disapeared, and the building was left
to decay. Some think she got tired of the whole illegal buissness, and
left for nicer cities. Others think they just haven't found the body yet.
Whatever Mama Rizotti's current wherebouts, the abandoned
building had recently become occupied again, as had the parking lot.
Resting heavily on the crumbling cement was a beat-up, superfast, T-pack
powered, laser-weaponed, armored, Model 23-50 Lightning (c) Kirbytech
Inc., LNH-cum-JBoNV flight.thingee. There were burn scars down it's
sides, and some of it looked bashed and crumbled rather badly. Scars from
the Junior Brotherhood of Net.Villains brief encounter with the LNH
Misfits. But there were newer scars too - a line of bullet holes near the
cockpit, and the passenger door blown off it's hinges, now leaning
against the outside of the .thingee, waiting for repairs.
Inside the building lounged six members of what currently
constituted the Junior Brotherhood of Net.Villains. The man in the black
trenchcoat, aka Mr.Fossavellus, stood in the center of the room, smoking
a cigarette. His hand was bandaged, and a red spot peeked through the
off-white gauze. He didn't look happy. Around him, on abandoned crates
and a windowsill or two, lounged most of his charges. The Junior
Brotherhood of Net.Villains. He had been given the task of assembling a
junior force of villains for the Brotherhood, which he had done, and done
well. But now the Brotherhood itself was on the run, their far away base
discovered by the government. They had discovered that the hard way, when
they touched down in the stolen flight.thingee, and agents had opened
fire from every nick and cranny of what had once been the most
impregnable of villain bases. Fossavellus sighed, and pitched the
cigarette onto the ground, grinding it out with the toe of his boot. Who
knew where the uncaptured members of the Brotherhood were now. And
wherever they were, they didn't need to worry about a bunch of rookies
giving them away. The Junior Brotherhood would have to make it on their
own for a while.
He sighed, and turned to his charges. A young oriental girl stood
in the corner, in short jean shorts and a tank top, bits of debris and
dust whirling around her in a cloud. Dust, living up to her codename.
Rebecca Drayer was leaning against the wall asleep, using her jacket as a
blanket. She was a minor sorcerous, but a good one. She hadn't chosen a
code name yet. The boy called Mr.Exposition was asleep on another crate,
snoring faintly, his arm dangling off the edge to brush lightly against
the ground. Janey, Hooded Ho'od Win Jr., was crouched at the window sill,
looking out into the parking lot and humming a nonsensical tune. The man
in the black trenchcoat frowned. She was too young for this, really. But
she had been with Rebecca when they were attacked, and the older girl had
insisted that she be brought along. Outside, pacing around the
flight.thingee was Kid Camouflage, sidekick turned villain. As he
watched, she stooped to pick up a bit of metal that had fallen off, and
screw it back in place. She'd insisted on staying outside to continue
working on the .thingee, trying to get it back into good condition as
soon as she could.
Upstairs, out of Mr.Fossavellus's sight, Explosion Boy sat on a
windowsill, staring out at the city slums beyond, his thoughts a mixture
of anger and longing. Anger, because he still didn't know who had tried
to gun him and the others down when they first met. Fossavellus wasn't
any help, and the files he'd been hoping to see had been at the far away
base, if they'd existed at all. So all he was left with was the fact some
men had tried to kill him and his friends, and a name. The Reality. That,
and the memory of Jenna. Because, whoever they were, the Reality had
succeeded in killing at least one person. Floatation Girl, another
veteran of Zomkickifation along with he and Kid Camouflage. His hands
curled into fists, as he ran through the memory yet again. Jenna, lying
on the floor, gagging and choking as the poison rushed through her
system. The ambulance men, rushing around, loading her onto a stretcher,
speeding away to the hospital.
Her body, lying there as the electrocardiogram dropped to a flat
line, a dead constant whine echoing through the room. Her lips, tinged
with blue, scarred with spatters of blood, tiny rubies scattered across
snow. She looked so still there in the Emergency Room, as doctors and
nurses scurried around her, trying desperately to bring her back. A
tranquil pond, set in the middle of a busy roadway. Her body endured the
indignities forced upon it in the attempts to bring her back, and
resisted them just as well. He had stood in the doorway, surrounded by KC
and the man in the black trenchcoat, and all the kids he'd brought with
him, entirely alone. He'd been trying to ask her out for two weeks, but
the time had never felt right. And now he'd never get the chance. No one
would ever get the chance.
EB growled and grabbed an old tin can up off the floor, tossing
it into the air. He flipped on his powers and lifted his other hand up in
a classic setup for a volleyball overhand slam. He hit the can, sending
the exploding piece of trash sailing through the window. He was cuaght in
the tailing edge of it, but he was mostly immune to his own power, and
wasn't bothered by it. And that other emotion running around in his head?
Longing, dancing on the edge of his thoughts and peeking around corners
of his conscious mind. He couldn't believe it, but he was in love.
Jenna's memory still echoing in his head, and he was in love with another
girl. Maybe it was his emotions trying to come back into equilibrium.
Maybe it was life's little joke on him. But he couldn't help it.
Everytime he thought of that girl he just...
And to make it worse, she was LNH. Not only did he have to fall
in love at most possibly the worst time in his entire life, he had to do
it with the 'enemy'. He didn't even know her name. Just the flash of the
sun on her beautiful blond hair, her face, so peaceful in sleep... like
Jenna's cold and pale on the hospital bed, watching him from behind the
grave. Explosion Boy growled again, and turned to look for another piece
of trash to blow up. He stopped cold. Mr.Fossavellus stood silently in
the doorway, watching him.
" How long have you been there?" asked EB caustically. The man
in the black trenchcoat shrugged.
" It doesn't matter. Come downstairs and help us plan. We need
money and materials if we're going to survive on our own for a while. The
Junior Brotherhood of Net.Villains may have started off with an LNH
battle, but we're going to have to drop to thievery for a while if we're
going to survive. Come on." He turned to go back downstairs and, after a
moment, Explosion Boy followed him.
-=ð=- -=ð=-
At first, it was nothing but voices.
"...didn't have to hit her _that_ hard Paytan. Geez, was that one
of the things Dirmarw was teaching you to do?"
" Yes, it was. Now go away Brit, that took a lot out of me and I
need to sit down for a while."
" Okay. Hey, Savannah! Savannah!! How does the patient look?"
" What?"
" The girl you're watching. How is she?"
" Well, she's about to wake up. She has a small bruise on her
left cheekbone, a bloodied elbow, what looks to be a large bruise on her
left shoulder, a small scrape on her side, a badly bruised left shin, a
bruised... " Kismet let the monologue fade into the backround and worked
on clearing her head for a minute. She cautiously flexed her arms, and
found them untied. Why? What game were these people playing, leaving her
untied like this? Did they think she was too weak to escape, that she
would not fight to the death to regain her freedom?! She gritted her
teeth and tried to sit up. She got halfway there, propping herself up
with her elbows.
All the insect people had left but three, two of which had been
the ones she was fighting. Around her stretched grass and a few trees,
unnaturally neat and trimmed. And just beyond, the horrid grey hive of
this place took over again. She could see the shiny things the insect
people used for transport going by, swerving and gliding unnaturally
across the ground. Overhead was the blue, cloudy sky. The only thing in
this horrid place she recognized. Her wings shifted involuntarily, as if
she could simply fly upwards and live their in that familiar place
forever. But she'd already tried that, thought Kismet bitterly, and look
what had happened.
Then one of the creatures stepped towards her, holding a bowl of
something. Kismet tensed and showed her teeth, making eye contact and
glaring at the girl venomously. The girl simply smiled faintly and waved,
stepping closer.
" Hi!," she said," My name's Brittany. What's yours?"
" What need have you of my name, beast? What do you want with
me?!" growled Kismet, trying to look imposing while stretched out on the
ground, barely strong enough to move. The girl, Brittany, didn't bat an
eye.
" I want you to eat. And I want to know your name so I don't have
to go 'hey you! winged girl!' every time I need to get your attention.
Here," Brittany knelt about two and half feet away and stretched out the
arm holding the bowl. It smelled good, and Kismet could feel her mouth
start to water. Brittany smiled encouragingly, and Kismet carefully
forced herself into a sitting position and took it.
The bowl itself was warm in her hands, made of a curious white
material. There was blue stripe around the rim, circling the entire mouth
of the bowl. A protective ward of some type perhaps? Inside was a liquid
of some sort. It looked like soup. Like broth, with bits of other things
mixed in. It didn't look poisonous, but how did she know these people's
food wouldn't kill her? And why were they giving it to her anyways? It
was probably drugged to make her sleep, or worse. She set it carefully
down on the ground beside her.
" I am not hungry," she said, her stomach choosing that
particular moment to rumble hungrily. One corner of her mouth twisted
downwards, and she sucked in her gut, trying to make it stop. Brittany
looked like she was trying to suppress a smile.
" So, I introduced myself. You are?" she asked. Kismet sighed.
" I am Kismet urvYuka, Daughter of the Setting Sun, Last Leader
To Be of the Eastern Towers," she muttered. This was confusing. Why were
they being nice to her? They were insane, living like this. Why didn't
they act like it? Why couldn't she go home? Why?! To her horror, tears
began to build on the surface of her eyes, threatening to spill out in
another minute or two.
" Well, Kismet urvYuka, do you need a place to stay tonight, or
are you planning on finding another pond?" grinned Britanny.
" I... I am not a prisoner?"
" Oh no," growled Paytan," We befriend _everybody_ who tries to
kill us." Brittany glared at her a moment, then turned back to Kismet.
" No, you're not a prisoner. It's kind of a habit around here to
attack people then become friends. It's a superhero thing." Kismet didn't
know what a superhero was, but she decided that these people had some
truly odd customs.
" Yes," she said cautiously," I think that a place to stay would
be good. Now what is this... superhero?"
" It's kinda complicated. Sorta. I'll explain on the way," beamed
Brit. " C'mon, I'll take us all home."
" You're not driving again! I'm walking!" yelled Paytan as she
got to her feet. " I don't need to get nearly killed a third time today!"
" I didn't nearly get us killed! That post _moved_ into the
street, I swear! And we missed it anyways. C'mon Savannah!"
" Huh? Where are we going?"
________________________________________________________________________
Binky, Dirmarw, Kismet, Out-of-It Lass, Perdition, Weirdness Girl,
copyright Jennifer Whitson, 1995. Faq Boy is Jamas Enright's, and used
with permission.
NEXT ISSUE:
THE FLAME WARS III. IT'S HERE. IT'S BIG. COME READ IT OR I SHALL
CONTINUE TO TYPE IN ALL CAPS FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE.
Pt 1 - LNH Triple Play #8
Pt 2 - Limp Asparagus Lad #18
Pt 3 - Fan.Boy #11
Pt 4 - Writer's Block Woman #21
Pt 5 - Misfits #13
Pt 6 - Insanity Unlimited #2
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.sig is living in jungle with pack of wolves and refuses to come back.
