This issue happens after LNHCP #29, and Misfits 3 happens before
it, due to the prescence and then lack therof of Cheesecake-Eater Lad. I
originally intended these issues to be 20k tops each, but it seems I
can't keep to that limit. I'm sorry, and the next few issues _should_
drop back down in size.
And well, this issue didn't turn out pretty silly. _Or_ wildly
strange. It's actually kind of a bummer. Oops. Also, as a fifth issue
present to the series, and because it's driving me crazy that I don't
have them, the series will now also have a cover description for each
issue.
Thanks to:
Ian Porrel
Pam VanMuijen
Rene Garcia Villareal
Martin Phipps
Jamas Enright
for the reviews
=========================================================================
DERELICT Press Presents
The fifth issue of
/~~\/~~\ {] /~~\ (^^^ || ***** /~~\
/ /\/\ \ [) ~\__ (^^ || ,' ~\__
/__/ \__\ (} \__/ ( || ', \__/
" Not Much Plot Here Either "
A psuedo-Acraphobe title
._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._.
Perdition sits on the edge of the LNHHQ roof, looking glumly out
at Net.ropolis. Behind her the air is black and twisted, malicous red
eyes glaring out at her greedily.
)()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()
It was still raining back at Net.ropolis, though the storm's
force had lessened a bit. Clouds of raindrops gusted through the city,
and in some places the drains had clogged, sending rivers out of the
gutters and into the middle of the streets.
At the outskirts of the city, through the clouds of wet and wind,
rode a figure on a dark demonic steed. Her ruddy brown hair fluttered at
the tops of her shoulders, and deep brown eyes glared out at anything
that happened to catch her attention. Paytan was cold and wet, her bones
aching with exhaustion. She felt empty inside. In her hand Dirmarw
flickered faintly, faint strands of green running up and down it's
length. She stopped at the city limit sign and dismounted, the dark thing
beside her letting out a high-pitched squeal. It stamped on the hard
pavement, hooved clattering loudly. Paytan closed her eyes and with a
heavy mental push, sent the demon back where it had come from. It hissed
at her, laughing, as the air around it bubble and tore. The dimensional
tear faded silently away behind her and Paytan turned and began to walk
silently back towards the LNHHQ.
-=ð=- -=ð=-
Back in LNHHQ, Brittany was stomping about furiously. She,
Savannah, Fuzzy, Jynx, and that Tad kid had arrived back here a little
while ago. And what had Brittany done first thing? Even before she set
down her things, settled in, or had a long conversation with Tad about
trying to get 10,000 kiwis to follow a flight.thingee home? She had gone
to check on Binky, of course. And what had she found? Her poor burbling
cosmic power, left behind the mixer, his bowl spattered with a strange
green porridge-like substance, and Cheesecake-Eater nowhere in sight! The
cad had gone off on some universe saving quest somewhere, leaving Binky
all alone.
Brit patted the side of the fishbowl from where she sat at her
desk, Binky directly in front of her so he would know he wasn't being
abandoned again. Next time she saw him, that net.hero was going to get an
earful. She was carefully labeling a grass skirt and spear before setting
them in their new resting place on the ramshackle altar over in the
corner.
Our second battle
Us vs. a big kiwi
Villains 0
Heroes 0
Technically the heroes had won, but seeing as how Tad and Jynx
were the ones who carried the day, Brit felt it was impolite to give
credit where it wasn't due. Well, at least they hadn't lost so far. Just
then her door slammed open and Paytan stalked into the room. She looked
sourly at Brit and threw herself onto the bed.
" Paytan! You're back! Are you okay?" Brit grabbed Binky and sat
crosslegged on the floor near the bed, setting the fish down next to her.
Paytan looked up glumly.
" Oh I'm just about as fine as you'd expect. Bloody hell," she
rolled over to face the wall, and dropped her sword to the ground with a
thump. It lay there, glittering dimly in the light. Brittany leaned over
and cautiously patted her shoulder.
" You're sure you're okay?"
" Fine," came the muttered reply, muffled by the bright green and
orange comforter. Brit looked at her friend, worry tightening the skin
around her eyes.
" Well, we checked out the big moving patches anyways. They
turned out to be big bunches of kiwis. We met some interesting people
too, and some of them tried to kill us. You really have to meet Jynx and
Tad. But we're all fine." No reply. "Don't worry, we'll find a way to fix
it."
" Bloody felching hell we will!" Paytan exploded, sitting up to
glare at her friend. "You think we're going to be able to step right up
to the overlord of hell or something and tell him that these demons have
to stop summoning me, or else? You think that'll actually work?"
Brittany's eyes hardened slightly, and she clenched her fists. Then
realizing what she was doing, she stopped and relaxed. But when she spoke
her voice was iron hard.
" If it has to. I'll make it work. If it kills me. Just show me
how to get there and I'll - "
" Yeah right Brit, you and your goddamn cosmic fish," Paytan
slumped back against the wall, all the energy draining away again.
" Yes, me and my goddamn cosmic fish!" yelled Brit. "You think
I'm going to let whatever this thing is just suck you away?! There has to
be a way we can stop it! There's a way to stop everything, you just have
to find it!"
" Don't you think I've looked?! Don't you think I've smegging
tried?! _Nothing works!_" cried Paytan. She threw herself to her feet,
snatching up Dirmarw and shooting out of the room, slamming the door shut
behind her. It was her own fault for hoping. She thought it would help
somehow, talking it out to someone. Guess not. Paytan headed up towards
the roof, the only place in the whole HQ where you could get a moment's
peace.
Behind her, Brittany lay in front of Binky, emotionlessly watching
him burble in the fishowl. She swung her feet back and forth through the
air, purple socks swishing quietly. After a while she closed her eyes.
-=ð=- -=ð=-
It was still cold and rainy outside, a steady drizzle covering
everything outside in a layer of wet. Floatation Girl, Explosion Boy, and
Kid Camouflage sat in a corner booth in a small donut shop in the middle
of Net.ropolis, trying to keep warm. Ever since the Crisis of Infinite
Sidekicks, they'd been out of work. Nobody seemed to want sidekicks
anymore. Oh well, of course all the grandstanders got picked and all, but
people like themselves and Sidekick Squad were always passed over.
And 'plosion had medical bills to pay, after his Zomkick suit
almost killed him when he was apprehended by some LNHers. He'd just
gotten out of the hospital a month ago. The three of them were drinking
hot chocolate with sprinkle donuts, and bemoaning their fate.
" This sucks," said Floatation Girl, slurping at her hot
chocolate moodily. "Heroes don't want to hire somebody who can only fly
straight up or down, and nobody else will hire me becuase I'm one of
`those hero types'. Social discrimination I call it. Spandexism or
something."
Kid Camouflage grunted agreement and poked at her donut.
Personally, she didn't give a damn anymore what those hero types thought.
She'd loved being a sidekick, the adventure, the glory, at least until
she'd found out how little sidekicks mattered in terms of lives. One day
she's out there doing her best at sidekicking, and the next she's this
hulking zomkick, without any control over her own actions or thoughts.
And of course the heroes had saved the day again - they always did. But
did they spare a thought for all the zomkickified sidekicks? Oh no,
never. There had been some half-hearted attempts of course, but all in
all the sidekicks affected by Sidekicks R Us's mad scheme were left to
their own devices. Abandoned.
Explosion Boy glanced over at her, flinching a little. Ever since
the whole Zomkick debacle KC had been an entirely different person. Of
course he'd barely known her before the Crisis, and then only
professionally, but people had often mentioned her cheerful outlook and
penchant for tricks. Now she was moody and mercurial. The three of them
had started hanging out together, for lack of anything better to do in
their spare time. Both he and Float had tried to cheer her up
occasionally but nothing seemed to work. Maybe she just needed time.
Float put down the empty hot chocolate cup and sniffed.
" Hmph. I say we go save the world or something, then they'll
hire us!" she declared. Explosion Boy glanced over at her and smiled.
He'd been trying to ask her out for the last two weeks, but everytime
he'd gotten his nerve up KC had wandered in, all doom and gloom, and
ruined the mood.
" Maybe we could take out an add in the Classifieds," he
suggested. Float perked up a bit at that, grinning at him shyly and
started trying to work out how to word it. Kid Camouflage pitched in a
minute later, and soon all three were at it. They were so involved in
fact, that they didn't notice the man carefully entering the donut shop.
He looked like any other normal Net.ropolis citizen, but with an
odd twitch to his walk, and a crafty look about his eyes. He glanced
around quickly and slipped behind the donut counter and into the shop's
back room.
" Ooooo, put in we're bilingual!" said Float entusiastically. KC
looked at her caustically.
" We're not bilingual," she said.
" Well, I can cuss in Swedish," offered Explosion Boy," Does that
help?" KC glared at him.
" Hey guys, I'm out of hot chocolate. Anybody want anything while
I go get some more?" asked Float as she stood.
" Grab me another donut, will you?"
" Okay," grinned the sidekick, and wandered off towards the
counter. There was an uncomfortable silence at the table, while 'plosion
tried to come up with something to keep the conversation going. He ended
up picking steadily at a soggy napkin, praying that Float would get back
soon. Up at the counter Float grinned and thanked the nice looking man
behind the counter for the drink and donut. She gave him a tip too, the
poor man looked so nervous it must have been one of his first days at
work. Well, she was sure he'd relax after a little while.
" Hey guys! I'm back! Ya miss me?"
" Deeply," muttered Explosion Boy. KC elbowed him in the ribs.
Float slid the donut across the table to KC and flopped into her seat
across the table. The man behind the counter slipped quietly back into
the back room, stepping carefully over the unconscious form of the man
who _should_ have been at the counter, and exited quietly through the
back door.
Just as the faux clerk was getting carefully into an older model
car in the back, a man in a black trenchcoat and four kids were pouring
out of a brown Buick station Wagon in front, and heading at a sprint into
the donut shop. They burst inside just as the three sidekicks were about
to go back to creating their classified add.
" NO!" cried the man in the black trenchcoat. "Don't eat that
food!"
" Hellooooo," muttered KC. "Can't stop a minute without some
psycho or other popping in, can you?" She sighed and stood up, placing
herself between the man and her two companions at the table. Explosion
Boy and Float leaned back to watch the show, Float taking a gulp of the
hort chocolate as she slouched back.
" NO!" shouted one of the girls, and a cloud of bric a brac and
fuzz rose from beneath the botths around her, from under the tables and
the cracks in the walls, flying towards Kid Camouflage. KC, dove into a
roll and came up in front of the girl, socking her lightly in the solar
plexus then dodging out of the way as she fell to the floor, gasping. The
man in the black trenchcoat swung around and grabbed KC's arm.
" No, you don't understand - ," he began.
" The man behind the counter poisoned your food!" yelled the
teenage boy frantically," He's trying to kill you! Don't eat or drink
anything!" Around him the store's other patrons whitened and fled from
the building. Float froze, and dropped the hot chocolate cup. Explosion
Boy looked at her in horror.
" No, Float, you didn't..." he began, then sprung over the table
as Floatation Girl fell onto her knees, shoving her finger down her
throat in an attempt to induce vomiting. Kid Camouflage wrestled her way
free of the man in black trenchcoat's grip, and ran over, the four other
teenagers close behind her. Float gagged, and choked, vomit clogging up
her throat. Her face was going blue around the edges.
" What can we do?!" yelled Explosion Boy. The man in the black
trenchcoat shook his head and did nothing, glancing downwards away from
the sidekick's gaze.
" Oh no you don't," said KC," I'm calling 911." And she was off,
leaping over the counter, half tripping over the unconscious clerk in the
back as she reached the phone, quickly stabbing the numbers into the dial
pad. " Hello, we're here at 13 Brown Street, poisoning case and..."
Back in the front room Explosion Boy was wishing frantically he
had his emergency medical kit with him. All the sidekicks had them, but
her always left his with his costume. Unfortunately he was currently in
civilian dress.
Far away now, the nervous man with a twitch drove casually down
the freeway, whistling cheerfully. Another job well done. Closer,
ambulances were already roaring down the Net.ropolis streets, lights
flashing and horns blaring. Even closer Kid Camouflage was peering back
into the front room, describing the poison's effects the the emergency
personel. And in the front room, Explosion Boy knelt helplessly by
Floatation Girl as her breath grew more rockier and clipped, her
complexion paling noticeably.
The ambulances screeched to a halt in front of the store, moving
Float into the emergency vehicle within a minute, Explosion Boy hovering
over her all the while as they rushed to the hospital.
Halfway there she stopped breathing.
Jenna Torell, aka Floatation Girl was declared legally dead at
3:11 pm upon reaching the hospital. All attempts at resusitation failed.
-=ð=- -=ð=-
It was still raining. The sky was a pale, washed-out grey, rain
drifting from it in a great drizzling mass of wet. The rest of
Net.ropolis was just as grey, the streets a slickery wet color, full of
puddles and wind, the buildings like empty towering monoliths of dull
wetnesss. Paytan sat on the roof of the LNHHQ, looking out over the city
expressionlessly, thinking. Below her, the flight.thingee bay door ground
open with the creaking of metal and gears. One of thingees roared out
minutes later, it's tail lights glowing red in gloom as someone went out
heroing. She watched it soar over the city until it was only two faint
glowing lights in the distance, then turned her attentions back to the
city. No one was out in this weather, only the occasional pizza delivery
boy or lost pet, moving quickly from overhang to overhang to stay out of
the rain. Paytan, on the other hand, was getting soaked, as the roof was
uncovered and wide open to the relentless drizzle.
Paytan stood, hair whipped by the gusts, glaring out at the
universe as if she could stare it into giving her what she wanted.
Freedom. Peace. A smegging bottle of holy water. She sighed then, and her
shoulders drooped for a minute. Then she held her hand out into the air
and concentrated for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly.
Over her hand the air tore open a little, and dropped a small
grey thing into her palm. The grey thing twisted and flickered, made of a
thousand different coils, tiny claws sticking out at odd moments and pale
white eyes, yellowing around the edges and turning grey, glaring at her
carelessly. It's voice was flat and lifeless.
" What is my dutY?"
" What is the balance?" asked Paytan. The grey thing considered
her for a moment.
" The debt favors you heavilY. It shifted a small part towards us
with the last one you summoneD. And a little more with mE. But you still
have much lefT," whispered the thing. When it finished, Paytan crushed it
in her hand, and sent the body back to whatever hell it had come from.
That kind felt no pain, and healed quickly. She wished it didn't. But
then a lot of things she wished for didn't happen.
She remembered two years ago when she was almost sixteen, and
sitting alone in the kitchen after dinner wishing her mom would get home
before twelve so she could say goodnight. It was dark outside, and the
bulb in the kitchen light was flickering, ready to go out. The way the
linoleum reflected the light just so, a dim reflection of the light and
her shadow.
How she heard the faintest of sounds behind her, and turned,
expecting to see the door opening with a weary parent soon to follow.
Instead the air tore open and sucked her terrified into Hell. The air had
opened up hours later and spit her back into the darkened kitchen. She
had sat curled up in a fetal ball for half the night, finally getting up
and walking shakily to her room when the false dawn washed through the
tiny kitchen window. When she woke up the next morning she thought it was
only a very, very bad dream, until she saw the clawmark slashes across
her skin in the bedroom mirror. The next few weeks had been pure hell to
live through, the contant terror of the whole thing happening again
keeping her awake at nights, the emotional scars from the previous
summoning sparking nightmares and vicious spates of crying, and an almost
constant depression. After a month or two, she'd slowly relaxed, felt
safe enough to ease carefully back into her old personality, her old
self. She'd started talking to her friends, and laughing a little.
Then it had happened again. When she'd opened her eyes surrounded
by a twisted black and grey landscape, grey smoke twisting in the sky,
pale white demons crawling over the rocky onyx ground, their blood
pooling in the rocks all around her, she'd almost dropped to the ground,
and tried to go catatonic, or unconscious, or dead. Then one of the pale
white things had looked up at her and smiled widely, revealing rows and
rows of razor sharp skull white teeth. And she felt the voiceless urging
in her mind. Run, it said, run for us so we can hunt. And her body
responded, just like the first time, no longer under her control, and she
ran, the pale white hordes slithering and bleeding after her, howling
screams echoing strangely through the rocks. It was then she'd found
Dirmarw, the sword a broken twisted sheet of iron lying scorched in a
pile of deadwood. She'd almost thrown it away when it first spoke into
her mind, a pale whispering request. But she held onto it, and when she
was thrown back to her own dimension the sword stayed with her.
It'd taken days and another summoning before it convinced her
that it could help, that maybe it could make things better.
It taught her to fight a little, possesing her when she couldn't
do things on her own. It had showed her that she could summon the demons
too, and how to do it. But most of all it wiped out her memories of the
times _she_ got summoned, which was what she needed most, why she didn't
simply toss it in a well when things went bad or got dangerous. Without
that selective amnesia, things would be... worse.
The only good side to the situation was that evidently something
was keeping track of who summoned whom how many times. And the demons
summoned her far more than she summoned them. They owed her, and right
now the scales were tipped in her balance. And she'd better make sure
they stayed that way, because if she went over the line, wiped out the
debt and kept on going until _she_ owed _them_, then things would
probably get a whole lot darker very quickly...
In the meantime she walked a very narrow path, carefully dancing
around any situation in which she'd have to summon anything, hoping that
she'd have more than a few days or weeks until she was gone again, sucked
into the devilands for hours, for fortnights, for whole fricking months,
showing up again with entire sections of her life missing, memories
covered up and plastered over by Dirmarw at her request, but creeping and
slithering still in her subconscious, roaring outwards at night to feed
on her dreams and nightmares. The mind always remembered somehow, no
matter what you did. Made for restless sleep.
And things had continued like that for almost two years,
summoning after summoning, memory after memory wiped out until it seemed
her past was more a patchwork quilt than an actual life. Losing her
friends one by one, driving them away with fits of depression and anger.
Her parents, convinced by her frequent disapearances that she was on
drugs, or working for a pimp. One suicide attempt, failed because the
damn sword had possessed her, forcing her to throw away the pills. Her
life in shambles. Her mind in shambles, dangling just barely above a
nervous breakdown, held up only by what was left of her will, and the
sword's urgings.
Then a month ago, things had changed. She'd come to in the
middle of an inferno, as Dirmarw brought her mind out of the place he put
it in while he was overwriting her memories. She was angry at it for
bringing her out before she got home, terrified of whatever was happening
around her, demons everywhere with their hulking bodies, wicked claws,
and far too many teeth. A scream had boiled up in her throat, and the
sword had spoken, it's ancient hissing voice telling her to look up, that
things were not proceeding as they normally did. She'd glanced up,
looking for a place to run, and froze.
In front of her was a bloody altar, gritty stone covered in
darker stains. A blond girl lay chained to it, staring steadily at one of
her manacles, ignoring the demons and fire around her as if it didn't
exist. And in front of the sacrifice, between Paytan and the altar, stood
another girl, grinning. Surrounded by demons and hellfire, with Paytan
herself in front of her, decked out in some demonic sacrificial gear, and
the girl was _grinning_, a wild laughing look on her face.
" Look, behind you! It's a Jehovah's witness!" was the first
thing Paytan ever heard Brittany say. Half the horde around them spun
around, eyes widening. A second later they realized their mistake, but by
then it was too late. Brittany was among them, laughing wildly and
clubbing demons with their own sacrificial daggers, shouting something
about vengeful goldfish.
Paytan had felt the demons' voiceless order move across the
silent lines of command. Kill the girl. Complete the sacrifice regardless
of the interruption. She had been summoned, and was bound by magic to do
as she was ordered. She had to. She felt her muscles move into action,
felt herself step forward and raise a glittering black dagger with
wraithlike runes burnt into it. Saw the sacrifice's pale grey eyes move
upwards slowly and lock on hers, focusing abruptly into a deep dark grey.
Screamed inside and pulled back, shouting at Dirmarw to do something,
anything, to break the control, and the sword doing nothing, refusing to
respond. Her arms had started downwards, dagger whistling eerily in the
heat, it's point aimed at the sacrifice's forehead. Then suddenly an iron
grasp freezing her hands where they were, sparkling, laughing eyes gone
serious and watching her from inches away.
" I'm sorry," said Brit, and Paytan had felt something pinprick
into the flesh of her wrist, and everything had faded to black...
She'd woken up later, still in one of the hells, with the two
girls hovering over her concernedly. Dirmarw told that for a while she
was out of the demons' control, but refused to tell her why. They'd
introduced themselves, but when she asked Brit what had happened, the
younger girl simply muttered something about luck and glanced quickly
away, then changed the subject.
The search for a portal back home, running away from demons and
spirits, had taken a month. During that time Brit, Savannah and Paytan
had become friends, at first more for survival than anything else. Once,
with an entire horde of minor demons on their tail, Paytan had tried to
get the others to go on ahead to sacrifice herself for the others to get
away. It had seemed logical at the time. The others had something to live
for and she didn't, so what was the problem? Brit had knocked her
unconscious and dragged her away herself. When they got away from the
demons Brittany had given Paytan the cussing out of her life. Literally.
The girl continued for almost two hours, without repeating herself once,
yelling about sticking things out, about ditching one's friends, about
loyalty, honor, and pastrami, among other things. Every time since then,
when Paytan had tried to pull anything similar, Brit would be there,
glaring at her.
Paytan sat on the roof and smiled faintly. It was nice to have
someone care about her, instead of accusing her of drug abuse, or sexual
misconduct. Even if that someone did claim her goldfish was a cosmic
power, and had a tendency to wander into rather dangerous and life
threatening situations herself. After the first two weeks, suicide had
stopped being such a clear choice, and it had been getting less appealing
ever since. There was something about the way Brit dealt with things that
made it hard for Paytan to get depressed about them. Maybe it was her
constant cheerful chatter, or that wild gleam in her eyes she got just
before she was going to pull off something so colossally stupid one would
think it impossible. Or maybe it was the goldfish. Whatever, it was nice
to have a friend, as strange as she was. And even if the whole net.hero
buisness seemed stupid, it was turning out all right.
A particularly hard gust of wind blew across the roof, and Paytan
laughed. She'd better go explain to Fuzzy what happened so the older
net.hero wouldn't freak out the next time. And maybe that Tad person was
around, and Brit could introduce them or something. Paytan walked
carefully to the maintenance door that led back inside the LNHHQ. No
her life wasn't all light and happiness right now, but maybe with a lot
of work and a little help, it could be, eventually...
-=ð=- -=ð=-
" Hey dudette! You wanna see this?" asked California Kid as he
entered the rec.lounge, waving a memo happily. Fuzzy glanced over from
her position in front of the television.
" Yeah. What do you have, Kid?"
" A radical mission from Ultimate Ninja for you and the newbies.
It really cooks!"
" Better than Mouse and Writers Block Woman, I should hope,"
muttered Fuzzy. "Here lemme see it." California Kid handed her the memo,
hurling himself onto the couch beside her and peering over her shoulder
as she read.
" It looks like one of those knarly mad scientist dude types," he
suggested. "They spring up like, weeds and stuff, you know?"
" Yeah, they're everywhere," replied Fuzzy. She paused for a
moment, considering. "Hey CK, do you want to come along on this one?
You've been in the LNH longer than I have, but we haven't seen you around
much." California Kid glanced down glumly.
" Yeah, well, you know how it is. Everybody thinks I'm, like,
really uncool, you know? Nobody even mentions me much anymore."
" Well, we're mentioning you now!" grinned Fuzzy. "C'mon, lets go
round up the kids!"
_________________________________________________________________________
Binky, Dirmarw, Out-of-It Lass, Perdition, and Weirdness Girl, copyright
Jennifer Whitson, 1995. Fuzzy is Public Domain. Floatation Girl, Kid
Camuflage, and Explosion boy are pretty much mine, originally Mike
Escutia's. California Kid is Public Domain.
NEXT ISSUE:
Was caused by a RACC Reviews comment from long ago. Chris, if you
keep sparking storylines like this, you're going to end up with
a weird RACCie of some sort, you know that don't you?
Okay, next issue will be wildly strange, or terribly silly. I
promise.
=========================================================================
------
.sig is living in jungle with pack of wolves and refuses to come back.
