Post by Dru Tha Merc on Feb 23, 2011 23:10:09 GMT -5
It’s dark here… Dark in Los Angeles. The first person to show up on the rooftop, the first of our many players wears violet robes, a deep electric hue as they land calmly, quietly, coolly on the roof parallel to the building where all will go down. Skin of a caramel complexion, crimson, blazing eyes and strange hair of uncommon white, braided up into cornrows. He can be no one else besides the superhero Nocturne. He strolls forward, steely grieves equipped as he makes a motion in the air and lights a small flame at the end of his index finger. His left wrist and hand is governed in a wicked looking gauntlet, his right arm only protected by a bracer of sorts.
The wooosssh of a brown duster flutters behind the superhero, his cowl and robes fluttering for a moment before he turns around to see a man waving a cowboy hat and making a motion. Nocturne only nods slowly and sniffs the air for a moment. His lip curls and his eyebrow raises.
Nocturne: You have the smell of female whore vampire on you. Don’t you ever get tired of killing those blood-gulping skanks?
Deadeye offers a grunt before he walks up and crouches down besides Nocturne; taking out his longbow and checking it carefully, once, twice for a few nicks and scratches. He eyes Nocturne up. Deadeye has the look of cowboy meets Indiana Jones, but you take a look in that man’s eyes and you see the confidence of a man who knows he can outshoot fifteen men with Assault Rifles, with just three arrows…
And he’s done so before.
Deadeye: Son, I reckon it’d do you well to face a few vampires once and a while. Gets the blood pumping, and from the look of you these past two years… I can’t remember the last time your blood WAS pumping.
Nocturne: Har-har. Are they coming?
Deadeye: Paragon wasn’t too keen on doing anything in secrecy… You know him, even with everything that’s happened with him, and Mia, and the Honor Guard and so on, he’s got to be the Boy Scout. Well, at least try to be the Boy Scout. As for Titan… Well, Chris hasn’t seen Paragon in a while and they rarely get to have much contact these days with all the teams switched up and mixed around.
Nocturne did not have to wait much longer it seemed. A shimmer of green, purple, and gold and there stood the Angel City Avenger, The Paragon of Virtue… Or as few people knew him by day, Jeffrey Nash. Domino Mask, glowing Eidolon Bands on his arms, and that… Strange, ethereal symbol that at times, Nocturne could not describe any better than an upside-down pyramid.
That’s what it reminded him of, to say the least. Standing by with Paragon, the one and only Chris Burton, one of the few public superheroes these days… Titan. The power to grow at will, Nocturne had always thought it was a strange power, but ask anyone and Chris thought ‘magic’ was the very same oddity. Didn’t take away D.J.’s respect for BurtonTECH's CEO to say the least. Deadeye strolled over to shake hands with Paragon and Titan. Nocturne watched the three of them for just a moment and nodded slowly, not moving from his perch on the rooftop.
Paragon: What’s wrong, Arcanus? Too emotionally distant to say hi? Offer a high-five? No intricate threat of beating me at Halo: Reach?
Nocturne: Nocturne.
Paragon: …I can’t call you that.
Nocturne: It’s my name now.
Paragon: It doesn’t have to be.
Deadeye and Titan looked at each other, before Titan felt to interject, moving about in his dark-blue super-suit, the glorious blue ‘T’ on his chest now shining under the lights of the city.
Titan: You see anyone, yet Arc—err… Nocturne?
Nocturne: Not a soul. Whoever’s making this move, the new Crime Syndicate wants nothing to do with it, obviously. Ever since that Cypher guy died, there’s been a vacuum for crime, especially with all those new super weapons hitting the streets. Got Baseball Bats that give off a constant vibration, a single hit would liquefy a man’s skull out of 'is head.
Titan: I’ve actually been wondering, who has been getting their hands on all this weaponry, especially since WrenWorks has been out of business for a while since they got found out for all the black market weaponry. Wasn’t Cypher on their payroll?
Deadeye: Supposedly. Now there’s someone new on it.
Nocturne: Druid.
Paragon: Say what?! That little jerk kid who used to say he was gonna run the Honor Guard? How’d he go from super-powered prick to full-blown bad guy?
Nocturne offered Paragon a grin for just a moment. For Paragon it almost made him feel as if he was talking to, and interacting with the Darius James (Or D.J., depending on who you ask) of old. That was a smile from Arcanus. Not this brooding… Nocturne.
Nocturne: We have your sidekick, Kid Virtue to thank for that. When I left the Sons of Honor, Kid Virtue took my place, and Druid’s place as leader. The kid was likeable, funny, confident, and just about everything Druid was not.
Eventually Druid snapped and… Hit ÜberGirl, in a fit of abusal anger. That didn’t go well, especially since Lacey had a crush on Kid Virtue. They start dating, Druid gets kicked out of the Honor Guard, The Sons of Honor and... Yeah.
Deadeye: Druid tries to make it on his own, but he starts making shady deals with the criminal underworld and before you know it, he starts getting crime families to steal Burton’s stuff, which just doesn’t fly in Chris’s world. Scary thing is he starts making good with common man. All the masses love him... And hate Darius here.
Nocturne: Gotta love that no one wants to believe some two months of brainwashing, but everyone is just okay with a superhero who makes deals with criminals so they turn their attention to us.
Paragon: Okay so I get why each of you are here. Darius has hated Druid since the day the two met them. Hank, you will use any reason to clean the streets up, and Chris, that’s your tech these crooks are using to sell to other hoodlums and inner-city gangs but… Why am I here?
They all look at each other… Not sure what to say, or how to say it… Nocturne sighs and stands up finally before he walks up to Paragon and takes his left hand, in Nocturne’s own. Jeff only laughs sheepishly.
Paragon: Haha, sorry Deej but I’m not your type. I knew something was up with you being friends with Prototype, and having the hots for Maiden America… I mean she kind of has that man-walk---
The Angel City Avenger realizes for a moment Nocturne put something in his hands. He looks down to see that in his fingers… Broken goggles. Broken goggles that allowed someone who couldn’t see in normal light, to see perfectly fine. Deadeye could only whisper quietly.
Deadeye: We… Figured out who offed Black Shadow, and his wife and kid a few months ago. Druid was the only one not accounted for that night and we recently heard him bragging to Delilah, in the hopes of working his way into Drake Murderhorn’s new Syndicate.
They all know what’s coming next. They’ve all known the Paragon of Virtue too long to not know. First the sizable gems on the Eidolon bands glow, from that neutral purple, to an intense blue, causing the broken shards of the goggles to fit back to where is necessary, to make the goggles whole… Then the gems turn orange… Bright, bright orange… And Paragon’s eyes glow orange… He tries hard, his hardest to control flames that may come from his eyes and he sighs.
Paragon: You must promise me something, Arcan-… Nocturne.
Nocturne: Yes?
Paragon: I know in these last two years, you and Hank… You guys have become part of this Superhero Black Ops regiment, the so called ‘Domino Program’. I know you guys have been… Taking lives in the name of peace. You… You have to promise me, D.J. that no matter what, you won’t kill Druid. Not this time. If he escapes prison, then fine, I… I won’t be able to stop you in time, I don’t think, but… He believed in being good once, regardless of being a snarky jackass.
…He deserves a second chance.
Nocturne sighs slowly and nods, removing his cowl for a moment to look Paragon in the eyes.
Nocturne: I promise, Jeff… However we agree. If he doesn’t get better, he doesn’t make an effort... I won’t be held responsible for my actions.
And so Nocturne turned away as Titan made a pretend sniffle and blowing of the nose.
Titan: My little man of virtue is all grown up with his big boy hair! I’m so proud, I might throw him a Bachelor’s Party.
Nocturne: Wait, you’re getting—
Deadeye: Boys! I think we have pressing matters on attention!
The four superheroes turn around and catch the view from their rooftop perch. Pale face, bright red hair, and freckles on his cheeks, a sallow smile and uncaring eyes. That was Druid all right.
TO BE CONTINUED… NEXT ISSUE!
---
Niles Markie watched as Dru Dallins looked up from the comic book he had been forced to read. He stared at his manager in a combination of confusion, and borderline amusement. Every week was something different with Niles, that’s what he had to admit. Every week was something always different.
Dru: Honor Guard comics. What does this have to do with me beating Josh Eagles this week? Help me understand, nigga. Really. Try me.
Niles can only offer a laugh as he sips his martini, and stares out his living room’s balcony. The pair meet today in Niles’ spacious three story mansion. Niles had felt that a living room deserved to be lived in, so his entire second floor was essentially his living room. Now the two sat, out on the balcony on a sunny morning, and the first thing Dru had been given on his walk through the door…
A large assortment of comic books. Honor Guard, The Muse, Paragon of Virtue, Titan, Arcanus, (later re-titled Nocturne), C.R.A.S.H., Black Shadow, Mortanius, Deadeye, Crimson Turbo, Action Squad, Sons of Honor, Prototype… You named it, and Niles Markie had a copy of it, as long as it was part of the HCC line. House Chat Comics was the company name, and although all the original writers had disappeared, quit for other ventures, (like vagina, and working on storylines for Mortal Kombat games we hear), their legacy and company still went strong…
…
And they still got paid royalties.
Niles: I remember when I was anxiously anxious over my first Honor Guard comic. It was the issue where Frostbite beat Prototype’s time in the training room by a second and everyone loved him for it. Then there was a secondary issue, a week in the life of Prototype. Amazing issue.
Truly amazing.
Okay Dru… Time to explain. I want you to read the last issue of that Nocturne volume. It’s Nocturne versus Druid. The reason I want you to read it is because I feel you can learn from it about yourself taking on Josh Eagles. You are just like Nocturne, you’ll find, and Eagles is just like Druid.
I don’t want you to read that whole issue where Nocturne, Titan, Paragon and Deadeye deal with all the crime families in Los Angeles in one fell swoop in the building.
Dru: …Why not, negro? That sounds like that hot shit, that swollen kinda junk.
Niles: Just trust me. You trusted me before and made Daevin Dushane pray to his various pagan Jamaican gods.
Dru: Alright I guess… Let me read this issue about Nocturne and Druid then. Is this like, their final meeting? What’s Druid’s powers anyway? …Or Nocturne’s for that matter? They’re a bit vaguely defined.
Niles: Druid is a geokinetic, hydrokinetic, pyrokinetic, aerokintetic. He controls the forces of fire, water, earth and wind. As for Nocturne…. Well, he’s magically magical.
Dru stares vaguely at Niles, before he rubs his fingers with his temple.
Dru: He’s gay.
Niles: He’s not gay.
Dru: C’mon son! Purple robes? Super-powers that involve ‘magic’? He’s a flamer.
Niles: Okay, okay… His powers are specifically like making things happen, got me? He can melt ladders into the ground, he’s got incantations and all kinds of junk. Can freeze time and make portals, turn people into frogs, make it rain donuts, all kinds of foolishness. Just trust me, you are him, Eagles is Druid.
Dru: NIGGA, MY NAME IS IN DRUID’S NAME! He controls the forces of earth! Nocturne is just MAGICAL.
Niles: Nigga, hush. Just read.
---
The image is a darkened room, a warehouse where Druid stands. Similar to Nocturne he wears armor in certain sections of his body, grieves of silver and black, an entire armor leg-plate, with a waist-wrap of brown, images of the four seasons, indicative of the power that Armand Masters, known to the public as Druid holds. His hair is a ginger red, gelled up exquisitely and as he slouches a little lower in his chair, cleaning an assault rifle, calmly taking it apart then putting it back together. He doesn’t look up in the darkness in the corner.
Druid: Come now, Darius… You aren’t gonna come and see your friend, your old pal Druid? I heard you’ve been busy, playing janitor to the underworld. Me though… Hah, in the streets they call me a man of the people, they even call me a champion.
Out of the shadows, Nocturne slowly begins to come out into the light of flickering lamps attached to the ceiling. Nocturne’s eyes blaze crimson once more and he waves his fingers, setting aflame a crate of nearby weaponry prepared for the streets. He stared coolly, viciously at Druid, who only offered a smile, wicked and obtuse to his former teammate made adversary.
Nocturne: Finally it has all come to an end, hasn’t it Armand? You are hated amongst the superhero community, nothing short of a traitor, a villainous, evil traitor who sold out his own, on his own.
Druid: I was never evil Nocturne… Not even for a moment, not even for a second. People of our ilk, heroes, they have no forgiveness for me, but you, I will never understand how people, how superheroes can accept you, even when all of the general public despises you.
I go through life as this herald of what is right in this world. Sure, I have deals, crooked, crooked deals with all these crime lords, yet the general public understands and loves me for it. I keep criminals off the streets by having them destroy each other, and people like you. In return, I grant them protection, keep them out of prison.
They listen to me, they understand I could kill any one of them with just a sneeze or a blink.
A blink, Darius.
As if to show by example, Druid stares ahead at a crate and merely blinks at it. A sphere of whirling, hurtling wind encapsulates the crate, before water vapors rip from the air and freeze over the crate… With that, finally the crate’s tomb of ice begins to crack and shatters, destroying the crate utterly.
Nocturne stares and scoffs.
Nocturne: I’m supposed to be impressed by something I can do just as easily? Listen Druid, and listen well. Myself, Deadeye, Paragon and Titan, we’ve destroyed your headquarters. The place where you were making all your business deals and situations. We’ve wiped the place clean. Every mob boss, crime lord, and their various syndicates… Shut down. It’s all over… We’re gonna bring you in, bring you to justice and—
Druid slowly stands up and stares at Nocturne with a sense of disgust, an air of disgust actually.
Druid: You were brainwashed… Broken mentally and turn asunder by Drake Murderhorn, tortured for days… Weeks, until your mind was turned against the Honor Guard. You hurt people, so many people. Everyone in that time would not give up until you were back on our side. Back on the side of good.
Not me, D.J.
I hated you. I hated you the day I met you, the day we saw each other, I saw you as nothing short of a parasite, not good enough of a human being to dry-clean my superhero costume. For what though, I wonder. Why is it, why was it that, as I beat you to an inch of your miserable life, as the people of the country, watching our superhero bout televised, as the normal, the common man cheered me, revered me and ever revere me today…
Why did everyone hate me? Why did everyone with a power-set hate me? Despise me even before then.
Why?
CAN YOU TELL ME, DARIUS?! WHY DO THEY RESPECT YOU, WHEN IT IS I WHO HAVE THE FAVOR AND LOVE OF SO MANY COMMON, NORMAL HUMAN BEINGS?!
WHY DO YOU GET THE RESPECT OF THE SUPERPOWER COMMUNITY?!
…Tell me, and then die.
Nocturne stares calmly at Druid, before pulling his hood down and flashing a long, ornate scar running from the side of his left temple to his chin. Long since faded, but still visible enough for Druid to remember…
To remember that HE was the one to give that to Nocturne.
Nocturne: No common man sees me as a likeable person, sure, Druid. You can tell any normal human that enchantments, or brainwashing, or science had something to do with it, but they don’t believe it, because as a whole, they respect none of us. They fear us, they like us, but they never respect us.
As for the superpower community… You ask why they respect me, and not you Druid? Because I do not walk around every day believing without a shadow of a doubt I am god’s true gift and son. I don’t walk around with two sticks up my ass and one stick down my throat. I fly through the skies, I stop the bad guys, I put my life on the line, because it’s not enough to claim yourself champion…
It’s not enough to claim yourself the world’s hero, the champion everyone needs… The champion that everyone deserves. Even if you supposedly prove it by beating the best of the best, you will never be respected Druid. You will never earn the respect of anyone who stands by and sees you because you are in our way.
You are competition who doesn’t do it the right way.
You don’t have our respect Druid… Because you don’t want it. You believe you are better than all of us.
…Or maybe…
Somewhere deep inside, in places you don’t like to talk about…
You know for sure. You are not better than any of us. So you choose to act out, abuse women and--
Nocturne felt a hiss of wind fly by his cheek, and then a stinging sensation. Druid had cut his cheek with bare wind. Nocturne sighed and began to roll his sleeves up.
Nocturne: Paragon made me promise… Not to kill you. That you deserved, like everyone else a second chance.
…I will keep that promise, Druid… However, when I am done with you, you will WISH I took your final breath.
There were no more words, merely the double-action of fireballs, one of magical creation, a bright violet, the other, of pure and concentrated flame. Druid moved, throwing out fireballs with reckless abandon, as Nocturne had already disappeared.
Teleportation likely, was what Druid figured. He turned around, barely quick enough to realize a crate missed his head by inches. Another crate, and another. Nocturne stood by for a few moments more and then disappeared once again in the shadows.
For Druid it was---
---
Dru: The hell, I was reading that, nigga-wich!
Niles snaps it away from his fingers and looks at Dru with a grin, and takes a seat.
Niles: What did you learn Dru? What did you learn?
Let me know what you realized about yourself, and about Mr. Eagles.
Dru silently stared at Niles Markie, before he nodded.
Dru: He doesn’t like me, he thinks I’m a waste of space, that I am scum, that I am below him and I am less than nothing. He thinks I’m a waste of talent, as well, and doesn’t see why anyone should respect me.
He sees himself as above everyone else. That he flies as an eagle so to speak, and everyone else is just a fuckin’ egg. Josh Eagles is better than everyone else… That’s how he reasons it.
Niles: What else?
Dru: People either fear or respect me… And even though all those fans boo me, more than they cheer me… There is not a damn person in the locker room who respects Josh Eagles because all of us… Every one of us sees Josh Eagles as nothing else but a fuckin’ bitch ass placeholder. A mark that eventually one of us is gonna come, and chop him down.
Eventually.
Does it matter if I win or lose this one, Niles?
Niles was silent for a time, trying to decide how best to explain to his client what this all meant.
Niles: At Knighting Dru, we watched you put Daevin in a place he’s never been before. A place of hell and pain. A place that there was no God and no love. There could not be any less then annihilation in what you accomplished. Josh Eagles…. Yeah people love Josh Eagles and yet none of his peers respect them. Yes, Dru… You are Dru Tha Merc and yet no one loves you and you may be no man to be cheered by the fans…
But whether you win or lose Dru…
You are respected.
Make a statement.
If Josh Eagles, if that guy thinks that you ain’t worth giving a shit about…
You should make a statement. Callaway was the first of many guys in the locker room who are gonna teach Josh Eagles the meaning of the words, "Fuck you, and the horse you rode in on."
It’s high time Dru… High time…
Niles let Dru finish the statement.
Dru: It’s time Eagles ate crow.
To Be Continued…
The wooosssh of a brown duster flutters behind the superhero, his cowl and robes fluttering for a moment before he turns around to see a man waving a cowboy hat and making a motion. Nocturne only nods slowly and sniffs the air for a moment. His lip curls and his eyebrow raises.
Nocturne: You have the smell of female whore vampire on you. Don’t you ever get tired of killing those blood-gulping skanks?
Deadeye offers a grunt before he walks up and crouches down besides Nocturne; taking out his longbow and checking it carefully, once, twice for a few nicks and scratches. He eyes Nocturne up. Deadeye has the look of cowboy meets Indiana Jones, but you take a look in that man’s eyes and you see the confidence of a man who knows he can outshoot fifteen men with Assault Rifles, with just three arrows…
And he’s done so before.
Deadeye: Son, I reckon it’d do you well to face a few vampires once and a while. Gets the blood pumping, and from the look of you these past two years… I can’t remember the last time your blood WAS pumping.
Nocturne: Har-har. Are they coming?
Deadeye: Paragon wasn’t too keen on doing anything in secrecy… You know him, even with everything that’s happened with him, and Mia, and the Honor Guard and so on, he’s got to be the Boy Scout. Well, at least try to be the Boy Scout. As for Titan… Well, Chris hasn’t seen Paragon in a while and they rarely get to have much contact these days with all the teams switched up and mixed around.
Nocturne did not have to wait much longer it seemed. A shimmer of green, purple, and gold and there stood the Angel City Avenger, The Paragon of Virtue… Or as few people knew him by day, Jeffrey Nash. Domino Mask, glowing Eidolon Bands on his arms, and that… Strange, ethereal symbol that at times, Nocturne could not describe any better than an upside-down pyramid.
That’s what it reminded him of, to say the least. Standing by with Paragon, the one and only Chris Burton, one of the few public superheroes these days… Titan. The power to grow at will, Nocturne had always thought it was a strange power, but ask anyone and Chris thought ‘magic’ was the very same oddity. Didn’t take away D.J.’s respect for BurtonTECH's CEO to say the least. Deadeye strolled over to shake hands with Paragon and Titan. Nocturne watched the three of them for just a moment and nodded slowly, not moving from his perch on the rooftop.
Paragon: What’s wrong, Arcanus? Too emotionally distant to say hi? Offer a high-five? No intricate threat of beating me at Halo: Reach?
Nocturne: Nocturne.
Paragon: …I can’t call you that.
Nocturne: It’s my name now.
Paragon: It doesn’t have to be.
Deadeye and Titan looked at each other, before Titan felt to interject, moving about in his dark-blue super-suit, the glorious blue ‘T’ on his chest now shining under the lights of the city.
Titan: You see anyone, yet Arc—err… Nocturne?
Nocturne: Not a soul. Whoever’s making this move, the new Crime Syndicate wants nothing to do with it, obviously. Ever since that Cypher guy died, there’s been a vacuum for crime, especially with all those new super weapons hitting the streets. Got Baseball Bats that give off a constant vibration, a single hit would liquefy a man’s skull out of 'is head.
Titan: I’ve actually been wondering, who has been getting their hands on all this weaponry, especially since WrenWorks has been out of business for a while since they got found out for all the black market weaponry. Wasn’t Cypher on their payroll?
Deadeye: Supposedly. Now there’s someone new on it.
Nocturne: Druid.
Paragon: Say what?! That little jerk kid who used to say he was gonna run the Honor Guard? How’d he go from super-powered prick to full-blown bad guy?
Nocturne offered Paragon a grin for just a moment. For Paragon it almost made him feel as if he was talking to, and interacting with the Darius James (Or D.J., depending on who you ask) of old. That was a smile from Arcanus. Not this brooding… Nocturne.
Nocturne: We have your sidekick, Kid Virtue to thank for that. When I left the Sons of Honor, Kid Virtue took my place, and Druid’s place as leader. The kid was likeable, funny, confident, and just about everything Druid was not.
Eventually Druid snapped and… Hit ÜberGirl, in a fit of abusal anger. That didn’t go well, especially since Lacey had a crush on Kid Virtue. They start dating, Druid gets kicked out of the Honor Guard, The Sons of Honor and... Yeah.
Deadeye: Druid tries to make it on his own, but he starts making shady deals with the criminal underworld and before you know it, he starts getting crime families to steal Burton’s stuff, which just doesn’t fly in Chris’s world. Scary thing is he starts making good with common man. All the masses love him... And hate Darius here.
Nocturne: Gotta love that no one wants to believe some two months of brainwashing, but everyone is just okay with a superhero who makes deals with criminals so they turn their attention to us.
Paragon: Okay so I get why each of you are here. Darius has hated Druid since the day the two met them. Hank, you will use any reason to clean the streets up, and Chris, that’s your tech these crooks are using to sell to other hoodlums and inner-city gangs but… Why am I here?
They all look at each other… Not sure what to say, or how to say it… Nocturne sighs and stands up finally before he walks up to Paragon and takes his left hand, in Nocturne’s own. Jeff only laughs sheepishly.
Paragon: Haha, sorry Deej but I’m not your type. I knew something was up with you being friends with Prototype, and having the hots for Maiden America… I mean she kind of has that man-walk---
The Angel City Avenger realizes for a moment Nocturne put something in his hands. He looks down to see that in his fingers… Broken goggles. Broken goggles that allowed someone who couldn’t see in normal light, to see perfectly fine. Deadeye could only whisper quietly.
Deadeye: We… Figured out who offed Black Shadow, and his wife and kid a few months ago. Druid was the only one not accounted for that night and we recently heard him bragging to Delilah, in the hopes of working his way into Drake Murderhorn’s new Syndicate.
They all know what’s coming next. They’ve all known the Paragon of Virtue too long to not know. First the sizable gems on the Eidolon bands glow, from that neutral purple, to an intense blue, causing the broken shards of the goggles to fit back to where is necessary, to make the goggles whole… Then the gems turn orange… Bright, bright orange… And Paragon’s eyes glow orange… He tries hard, his hardest to control flames that may come from his eyes and he sighs.
Paragon: You must promise me something, Arcan-… Nocturne.
Nocturne: Yes?
Paragon: I know in these last two years, you and Hank… You guys have become part of this Superhero Black Ops regiment, the so called ‘Domino Program’. I know you guys have been… Taking lives in the name of peace. You… You have to promise me, D.J. that no matter what, you won’t kill Druid. Not this time. If he escapes prison, then fine, I… I won’t be able to stop you in time, I don’t think, but… He believed in being good once, regardless of being a snarky jackass.
…He deserves a second chance.
Nocturne sighs slowly and nods, removing his cowl for a moment to look Paragon in the eyes.
Nocturne: I promise, Jeff… However we agree. If he doesn’t get better, he doesn’t make an effort... I won’t be held responsible for my actions.
And so Nocturne turned away as Titan made a pretend sniffle and blowing of the nose.
Titan: My little man of virtue is all grown up with his big boy hair! I’m so proud, I might throw him a Bachelor’s Party.
Nocturne: Wait, you’re getting—
Deadeye: Boys! I think we have pressing matters on attention!
The four superheroes turn around and catch the view from their rooftop perch. Pale face, bright red hair, and freckles on his cheeks, a sallow smile and uncaring eyes. That was Druid all right.
TO BE CONTINUED… NEXT ISSUE!
---
Niles Markie watched as Dru Dallins looked up from the comic book he had been forced to read. He stared at his manager in a combination of confusion, and borderline amusement. Every week was something different with Niles, that’s what he had to admit. Every week was something always different.
Dru: Honor Guard comics. What does this have to do with me beating Josh Eagles this week? Help me understand, nigga. Really. Try me.
Niles can only offer a laugh as he sips his martini, and stares out his living room’s balcony. The pair meet today in Niles’ spacious three story mansion. Niles had felt that a living room deserved to be lived in, so his entire second floor was essentially his living room. Now the two sat, out on the balcony on a sunny morning, and the first thing Dru had been given on his walk through the door…
A large assortment of comic books. Honor Guard, The Muse, Paragon of Virtue, Titan, Arcanus, (later re-titled Nocturne), C.R.A.S.H., Black Shadow, Mortanius, Deadeye, Crimson Turbo, Action Squad, Sons of Honor, Prototype… You named it, and Niles Markie had a copy of it, as long as it was part of the HCC line. House Chat Comics was the company name, and although all the original writers had disappeared, quit for other ventures, (like vagina, and working on storylines for Mortal Kombat games we hear), their legacy and company still went strong…
…
And they still got paid royalties.
Niles: I remember when I was anxiously anxious over my first Honor Guard comic. It was the issue where Frostbite beat Prototype’s time in the training room by a second and everyone loved him for it. Then there was a secondary issue, a week in the life of Prototype. Amazing issue.
Truly amazing.
Okay Dru… Time to explain. I want you to read the last issue of that Nocturne volume. It’s Nocturne versus Druid. The reason I want you to read it is because I feel you can learn from it about yourself taking on Josh Eagles. You are just like Nocturne, you’ll find, and Eagles is just like Druid.
I don’t want you to read that whole issue where Nocturne, Titan, Paragon and Deadeye deal with all the crime families in Los Angeles in one fell swoop in the building.
Dru: …Why not, negro? That sounds like that hot shit, that swollen kinda junk.
Niles: Just trust me. You trusted me before and made Daevin Dushane pray to his various pagan Jamaican gods.
Dru: Alright I guess… Let me read this issue about Nocturne and Druid then. Is this like, their final meeting? What’s Druid’s powers anyway? …Or Nocturne’s for that matter? They’re a bit vaguely defined.
Niles: Druid is a geokinetic, hydrokinetic, pyrokinetic, aerokintetic. He controls the forces of fire, water, earth and wind. As for Nocturne…. Well, he’s magically magical.
Dru stares vaguely at Niles, before he rubs his fingers with his temple.
Dru: He’s gay.
Niles: He’s not gay.
Dru: C’mon son! Purple robes? Super-powers that involve ‘magic’? He’s a flamer.
Niles: Okay, okay… His powers are specifically like making things happen, got me? He can melt ladders into the ground, he’s got incantations and all kinds of junk. Can freeze time and make portals, turn people into frogs, make it rain donuts, all kinds of foolishness. Just trust me, you are him, Eagles is Druid.
Dru: NIGGA, MY NAME IS IN DRUID’S NAME! He controls the forces of earth! Nocturne is just MAGICAL.
Niles: Nigga, hush. Just read.
---
The image is a darkened room, a warehouse where Druid stands. Similar to Nocturne he wears armor in certain sections of his body, grieves of silver and black, an entire armor leg-plate, with a waist-wrap of brown, images of the four seasons, indicative of the power that Armand Masters, known to the public as Druid holds. His hair is a ginger red, gelled up exquisitely and as he slouches a little lower in his chair, cleaning an assault rifle, calmly taking it apart then putting it back together. He doesn’t look up in the darkness in the corner.
Druid: Come now, Darius… You aren’t gonna come and see your friend, your old pal Druid? I heard you’ve been busy, playing janitor to the underworld. Me though… Hah, in the streets they call me a man of the people, they even call me a champion.
Out of the shadows, Nocturne slowly begins to come out into the light of flickering lamps attached to the ceiling. Nocturne’s eyes blaze crimson once more and he waves his fingers, setting aflame a crate of nearby weaponry prepared for the streets. He stared coolly, viciously at Druid, who only offered a smile, wicked and obtuse to his former teammate made adversary.
Nocturne: Finally it has all come to an end, hasn’t it Armand? You are hated amongst the superhero community, nothing short of a traitor, a villainous, evil traitor who sold out his own, on his own.
Druid: I was never evil Nocturne… Not even for a moment, not even for a second. People of our ilk, heroes, they have no forgiveness for me, but you, I will never understand how people, how superheroes can accept you, even when all of the general public despises you.
I go through life as this herald of what is right in this world. Sure, I have deals, crooked, crooked deals with all these crime lords, yet the general public understands and loves me for it. I keep criminals off the streets by having them destroy each other, and people like you. In return, I grant them protection, keep them out of prison.
They listen to me, they understand I could kill any one of them with just a sneeze or a blink.
A blink, Darius.
As if to show by example, Druid stares ahead at a crate and merely blinks at it. A sphere of whirling, hurtling wind encapsulates the crate, before water vapors rip from the air and freeze over the crate… With that, finally the crate’s tomb of ice begins to crack and shatters, destroying the crate utterly.
Nocturne stares and scoffs.
Nocturne: I’m supposed to be impressed by something I can do just as easily? Listen Druid, and listen well. Myself, Deadeye, Paragon and Titan, we’ve destroyed your headquarters. The place where you were making all your business deals and situations. We’ve wiped the place clean. Every mob boss, crime lord, and their various syndicates… Shut down. It’s all over… We’re gonna bring you in, bring you to justice and—
Druid slowly stands up and stares at Nocturne with a sense of disgust, an air of disgust actually.
Druid: You were brainwashed… Broken mentally and turn asunder by Drake Murderhorn, tortured for days… Weeks, until your mind was turned against the Honor Guard. You hurt people, so many people. Everyone in that time would not give up until you were back on our side. Back on the side of good.
Not me, D.J.
I hated you. I hated you the day I met you, the day we saw each other, I saw you as nothing short of a parasite, not good enough of a human being to dry-clean my superhero costume. For what though, I wonder. Why is it, why was it that, as I beat you to an inch of your miserable life, as the people of the country, watching our superhero bout televised, as the normal, the common man cheered me, revered me and ever revere me today…
Why did everyone hate me? Why did everyone with a power-set hate me? Despise me even before then.
Why?
CAN YOU TELL ME, DARIUS?! WHY DO THEY RESPECT YOU, WHEN IT IS I WHO HAVE THE FAVOR AND LOVE OF SO MANY COMMON, NORMAL HUMAN BEINGS?!
WHY DO YOU GET THE RESPECT OF THE SUPERPOWER COMMUNITY?!
…Tell me, and then die.
Nocturne stares calmly at Druid, before pulling his hood down and flashing a long, ornate scar running from the side of his left temple to his chin. Long since faded, but still visible enough for Druid to remember…
To remember that HE was the one to give that to Nocturne.
Nocturne: No common man sees me as a likeable person, sure, Druid. You can tell any normal human that enchantments, or brainwashing, or science had something to do with it, but they don’t believe it, because as a whole, they respect none of us. They fear us, they like us, but they never respect us.
As for the superpower community… You ask why they respect me, and not you Druid? Because I do not walk around every day believing without a shadow of a doubt I am god’s true gift and son. I don’t walk around with two sticks up my ass and one stick down my throat. I fly through the skies, I stop the bad guys, I put my life on the line, because it’s not enough to claim yourself champion…
It’s not enough to claim yourself the world’s hero, the champion everyone needs… The champion that everyone deserves. Even if you supposedly prove it by beating the best of the best, you will never be respected Druid. You will never earn the respect of anyone who stands by and sees you because you are in our way.
You are competition who doesn’t do it the right way.
You don’t have our respect Druid… Because you don’t want it. You believe you are better than all of us.
…Or maybe…
Somewhere deep inside, in places you don’t like to talk about…
You know for sure. You are not better than any of us. So you choose to act out, abuse women and--
Nocturne felt a hiss of wind fly by his cheek, and then a stinging sensation. Druid had cut his cheek with bare wind. Nocturne sighed and began to roll his sleeves up.
Nocturne: Paragon made me promise… Not to kill you. That you deserved, like everyone else a second chance.
…I will keep that promise, Druid… However, when I am done with you, you will WISH I took your final breath.
There were no more words, merely the double-action of fireballs, one of magical creation, a bright violet, the other, of pure and concentrated flame. Druid moved, throwing out fireballs with reckless abandon, as Nocturne had already disappeared.
Teleportation likely, was what Druid figured. He turned around, barely quick enough to realize a crate missed his head by inches. Another crate, and another. Nocturne stood by for a few moments more and then disappeared once again in the shadows.
For Druid it was---
---
Dru: The hell, I was reading that, nigga-wich!
Niles snaps it away from his fingers and looks at Dru with a grin, and takes a seat.
Niles: What did you learn Dru? What did you learn?
Let me know what you realized about yourself, and about Mr. Eagles.
Dru silently stared at Niles Markie, before he nodded.
Dru: He doesn’t like me, he thinks I’m a waste of space, that I am scum, that I am below him and I am less than nothing. He thinks I’m a waste of talent, as well, and doesn’t see why anyone should respect me.
He sees himself as above everyone else. That he flies as an eagle so to speak, and everyone else is just a fuckin’ egg. Josh Eagles is better than everyone else… That’s how he reasons it.
Niles: What else?
Dru: People either fear or respect me… And even though all those fans boo me, more than they cheer me… There is not a damn person in the locker room who respects Josh Eagles because all of us… Every one of us sees Josh Eagles as nothing else but a fuckin’ bitch ass placeholder. A mark that eventually one of us is gonna come, and chop him down.
Eventually.
Does it matter if I win or lose this one, Niles?
Niles was silent for a time, trying to decide how best to explain to his client what this all meant.
Niles: At Knighting Dru, we watched you put Daevin in a place he’s never been before. A place of hell and pain. A place that there was no God and no love. There could not be any less then annihilation in what you accomplished. Josh Eagles…. Yeah people love Josh Eagles and yet none of his peers respect them. Yes, Dru… You are Dru Tha Merc and yet no one loves you and you may be no man to be cheered by the fans…
But whether you win or lose Dru…
You are respected.
Make a statement.
If Josh Eagles, if that guy thinks that you ain’t worth giving a shit about…
You should make a statement. Callaway was the first of many guys in the locker room who are gonna teach Josh Eagles the meaning of the words, "Fuck you, and the horse you rode in on."
It’s high time Dru… High time…
Niles let Dru finish the statement.
Dru: It’s time Eagles ate crow.
To Be Continued…
