Mean Streets

Goodbye, this blog

2008-09-14T09:59:00.002-05:00

This blog is officially defunct.

You can go to Metahuman Press for the updated version of Mean Streets.

4.3 Double Crossed!

2008-05-14T19:41:00.000-05:00

“You screwed us! You let our people die for nothing at fucking all!”

Jack Flash didn’t back down from the fury Bulldog projected. They stood on the veranda outside the Kennel, the Dogpack’s home base. The other senior members of the Dogpack flanked Bulldog, and none of them looked too happy. Jack knew this would happen, had even planned for it, but he didn’t think they would be quite so violent about it. He silently cursed himself for being too damn trusting in the basic decency of human beings. If the Divide should teach anything, it was that such a thing did not exist.

Jack Flash held up his copy of the DVD-rom. “I did what I had to do. We needed the information that Skull could provide to us, but we had to get it out of there. This contains the only surviving data on Devastation Day. With it we may be able to finally—”

“We don’t need your true believe bullshit, Flash!” Bulldog looked over at Chihuahua. The Bitch looked Bulldog’s way, and the small deformed man at her side followed her gaze.

“Let me take him out, boss. We don’t need his ass anymore.”

Everyone in the room stood silent as Chihuahua slowly reached up and scratched his elongated nose. He nodded.

Bulldog grinned, and Pitbull moved to his side. They closed in on Jack. Jack took a step back and contemplated his chances of living through an extended battle with an entire street gang. He figured it at absolutely no chance at all.

“Look, guys. I know I—”

“Call your men off, Chihuahua. Flash leaves with me.” All eyes turned towards the street. An aging man sat on the back of a seventies-style stunt bike. Though it looked as though it had suffered thirty years of use, the motorcycle was nearly silent as it idled. The man on its back pulled the half-mask off of his head, revealing craggy skin and a receding hairline. He gave his audience a cocky grin beneath his scruffy beard as he dismounted his bike.

“You’ve got every reason to be mad at this chump, but I can’t let you hurt him, Chihuahua. He works for me now.”

“You have no say here, Double Cross. This is Dogpack territory. We respect you, but we won’t let you stick your nose in to our business.”

Double Cross walked towards Chihuahua. He gave Pitbull and Bulldog each a nod in turn as he passed them. The Bitch he gave both a nod and a smarmy grin, before he turned his attention back to Chihuahua. “You really want to call me out on this, friend? I’m old but not so old that I couldn’t kick all your asses, ‘specially with Jack here at my side.”

Chihuahua gritted his teeth. A low growl rose from his throat as he stood unmoving before Double Cross. Jack Flash looked on with mixed anticipation and worry. He was ready for a fight though, if it came to that. He didn’t think it would though. Even the Dogpack wasn’t stupid enough to cross the meanest son of a bitch in the Divide.

“Fine,” Chihuahua said. “You want the sorry bastard you take him. But if me or any of my dawgs see him in our territory again, he will wish we let him die quick and easy today. You get me?”

“We hear you.” Double Cross looked over to Jack and gave him a wink. “And I promise that good ol’ Jack here wouldn’t even think of bothering you or your people again. And I’m nothin’ if not a man of my word, right?”

“Just take him and go.”

Double Cross looked at Jack. “You heard the man. Let’s roll.”

Double Cross turned to head back to his bike. Bulldog cut him off. “I should tear out your throat you son of a bitch.”

Double Cross shot forward with blinding speed. After images streaked behind him as he struck a swift and brutal chop to Bulldog’s throat. Bulldog staggered back and fell to one knee. He clutched at his throat as he struggled for air.

“That could just as easily been a killing blow, hombre. Don’t get in my face again.” Double Cross walked away from the struggling man. He went straight back to his motorcycle. He climbed in to the leather seat, yanked the mask back over his hair and eyes. Jack walked up behind Double Cross and looked at him and the bike.

“Don’t just stand their gawking like a damn fool. Climb on the back of the bike before the pack changes their mind and tears you a new asshole.”

“Yes, sir.” Jack scurried on to the seat behind Double Cross. The older man kick-started the cycle (with barely any engine noise) and pulled out in to the streets. Within seconds they were cruising down the wasted streets of Old Detroit, zigging and zagging around loose rock, people, and massive potholes. Jack feared for his very life as the old man put on the speed.

They shot down the streets of the Divide and Jack knew they could only have one eventual destination. It was time to go to the Q-Zone. One way or another, the Antagonist’s days as the boss of bosses would soon be over.

*****

“You got it?”

Gigolo chuckled at the question. “You got the money?”

Conundrum hissed through his ever-distorting features. The degen’s skin constantly shifted around his body coupled with the elasticity of the bones beneath made him a constantly-changing mass of skin. Most people would find the result utterly sickening. Gigolo had seen much worse in his years.

They stood in a blasted out wasteland. Very near the epicenter on the Day of Devastation, not even foundations stood here. A few shabby huts stood scattered over the empty grasslands, but no one inside them made any motion. They knew better than to do so in the presence of the Great Question’s leadership.

Conundrum signaled to one of the two midgets that stood several feet behind him. Both wore full bodysuits, one in blue with an “S” on his chest, the other in red with an “A” on his chest. Shock and Awe scurried to Conundrum. Each carried a knapsack. They dropped them between Conundrum and Gigolo.

“There you are,” Conundrum said. “Five million US in each bag. Everything you might need to make your life outside of the Divide. Now give me the disc.”

Gigolo smiled, showing a mouthful of gold. He reached in to his large chinchilla-fur coat. He produced the DVD-ROM and put it in Conundrum’s hands. “That’s the only complete copy of the disc, so be careful with it. You don’t want to have to pay me ten million more for another copy.”

Conundrum took the disc from Gigolo and examined it. He handed it to Awe. “Verify the authenticity please.” Awe scurried away to their jeep, where the final member of their party sat at a laptop. The scrawny young man couldn’t be out of his teens, but he quickly took the disc, inserted it in to the computer, and scanned it. He gave Conundrum a thumbs-up.

Conundrum’s face suddenly contorted. A moment later he looked exactly like Gigolo. “Thank you for your efforts, sir.”

The sniper’s bullet caught Gigolo in the back of the head, near the top of his skull. His face exploded outwards before the bullet lodged in the ground only inches from Conundrum’s foot. Blood and brains splattered across Conundrum’s new face. He slowly grinned as he wiped it away.

“Get the coat and the cane, boys. Then burn the body” Shock and Awe ran to retrieve it. Conundrum bent down to look at the blank eyes of his victim. It was times like this he enjoyed his work.

He raised a closed fist in the air. It was the prearranged sign. Just over a hundred yards away, an empty patch of land atop a large hill shimmered. When the shimmer faded, Kimono stood in its place. The gorgeous Asian assassin was naked except for the high-powered rifle in her hand.

“Hurry to the jeep,” Conundrum said. “We must return to Antagonist and show him our success.”

4.2 Cathouse

2008-05-08T10:06:00.000-05:00

Bob Cat blinked his eyes open. His head throbbed but otherwise everything seemed to be in working order. He sat up and ran a hand through his black hair. It took him a few moments to realize he was on the couch of the loft he shared with Death Ray. Ray was in the kitchen making breakfast. The smell of bacon and eggs filled the apartment. Ray gave Bob a nod as he turned back to the frying pan.

Bob struggled up and off the couch. Every part of him ached, but it was better than the alternative. He had already died three times, and he had no plans to suffer through another revival anytime soon. “You got any of that for me?”

Ray looked his way, nodded and waved him over. Bob sat down at the small fold out lodged between the kitchen and the living room to enjoy a breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast. He was chewing his sixth bite of egg when the buzzer sounded. Someone was downstairs at their door.

Having been unconscious for several hours, Bob doubted highly it was any of his lady friends which meant it was almost certainly a client. He couldn’t remember the last time they had a paying gig. All this freelance “helping out” as Ray liked to call it wasn’t paying the bills. Bob leapt from the chair and ran down the stairs to the first floor.

He threw a smile on his face as he yanked the door at the bottom of the stairs open. “Hi, can I help you?”

A tall man, thin but well muscled, stood in the door. He wore his hair short and as brown as his eyes. He stood up straight, government-issue straight. Bob wondered which government.

“My name is Conrad Thierry,” the man said. “I’m looking for Bob Cat and Death Ray.”

“Well you found us. I’m the Cat.” He gestured past him. “I assume you’re not here for breakfast, so come inside and tell me how we can be of assistance.”

“Good.” Thierry pushed past Bob and in to the small hallway opposite of the stairway. He continued in to the small room Ray and Bob used as an office and sat down at the vacant secretary’s desk. He promptly threw his feet up on it and looked at Bob.

“Please make yourself comfortable,” Bob said.

“Is your partner available, Mr. Cat?”

Bob nodded before he turned to call Death Ray down the stairs. Ray was already at the top of the stairs and on his way down. “Here he comes,” Bob said. Ray reached the bottom of the stairs, and he and Bob went in to the office and took two of the remaining seats. “Now what can we do for you?”

“First, I would like to put in on record that you two are not my first choices for this mission, but my superiors seem to think considering your past history that you are the best choices for the task at hand.”

Thierry pulled a thick envelope from inside his jacket pocket and threw it on the table. “My superiors at ACTION have come across information that another so-called Norn Stone has been located in the northern areas of the city, in a region called Pisa. Are you familiar with the Stones?”

Bob nodded. He tried not to salivate at the very thought of the Stone. The Norn Stones first appeared shortly after the Devastation. They could be used to channel massive amounts of energy, but prolonged skin contact would cause them to absorb in to the human body. Anyone who absorbed one would then become a metahuman. If a metahuman did the absorbing, his powers would increase several times over. Only a few of the longest residents of the Divide ever came to possess them, people like Mister Mayor and Antagonist. Though dozens existed none had been seen in months.

“Everyone in the Divide knows of the Stones, Mister Thierry. Everyone here dreams of getting one for themselves.”

“Our information within the Divide is limited but we believe it may be in the hands of one of your fellow metahumans, a Venus de Milo. We know little beyond what our satellite scanners can read.” Thierry gestured to the envelope on the table. It was stretched in the middle by what could be nothing other than several bundles of cash. “In that envelope you will find one hundred thousand dollars for each of you, Mister Cat, Mister Ray. I am here to hire you as unofficial agents of the United States government in this endeavor. I want you to enter the so-called Pisa region, locate the artifact, and return it to me. If you do so, we will quadruple the money found in that envelope. Each. As well as another artifact which you will certainly be interested in, Mister Cat.”

Bob reached down and opened the envelope. He found several bundles of hundred dollar bills inside. He showed the envelope’s contents to Death Ray. Ray just nodded.

“What is this artifact you’re talking about, Agent Thierry?”

“It’s a certain sword. A Japanese-made katana. No known name exists for it, but it possesses innate magical abilities. You should be familiar with it, as I believe it’s the missing part of that ensemble you wear, Mr. Cat?”

A greater man might wonder how the United States government had uncovered so much of his history, but Bob could only think of the sword. He spent months looking for that sword after he recovered the rest of the costume, but never found it. Now he could feel it within his reach.

“We’ll do it,” Bob said.

Death Ray reached out and turned Bob back towards him. He gave his friend and partner a glare. Bob could tell he was in no way pleased.

“What? We need the money.”

Death Ray just shook his head in frustration. He snatched the money out of Bob’s hands, turned, and started back up the stairs. He slammed the door shut at the top.

“Don’t worry about him,” Bob said to Thierry. “I’m not sure why he’s so moody right now, but once we take a down payment, we guarantee we finish the job. He and I will be a team when we go in to Pisa. We’re partners and all that even with all his anger management issues.”

“I don’t want excuses, Mister Cat. I want results. Can you deliver me the Norn Stone and do it within the next week?”

“You can count on us, Agent Thierry.”

“You’d better hope so. Because if you fail in this, Mr. Cat, you will find yourself with a powerful enemy in the United States government.” Thierry suddenly smiled, which only served to make him look even creepier. “But that’s not going to happen, is it?”

Thierry patted Bob Cat on the shoulder. He placed a card in Bob’s hand before he continued on his way to the door. “I expect a status report in forty-eight hours. Do not disappoint me, Mister Cat.”

Thierry whisked through the door and out in to the street. Bob watched him go until Thierry turned. The sun’s glare caught Bob’s eyes. He blinked and turned away for a moment, but when his eyes returned to the street, Thierry was gone. Bob pocketed the card and rushed up the stairs to find Ray.

4.1 The Awesome Titan!

2008-04-17T03:41:00.000-05:00

Johnny B. Goode felt like he was flying. It was like all the movies of the cool metas on TV, only way faster. He could feel the wind whipping through his hair, the power of the air currents all around him, and the freedom of soaring though the sky. It was like heaven. Johnny had just one problem.

He couldn’t actually fly.

Johnny struck the earth at several hundred miles per hour. Dirt and rock exploded beneath him and created a storm of dust around him. Slowly he rose from the hole his fall had made. He brushed the dirt from his remaining clothes as he cleared his head.

The area around him looked utterly barren. Dirt, some stones, an occasional patch of grass, but nothing more than that. It reminded him a bit of the parks when he was a kid, back before the destruction, but way less cool. No jungle gyms at all; he couldn’t even find a slide.

He did see a massive wall though. It stretched as far as the eye could see, taking time only to curve to cover both his right and left as he followed its trail. He couldn’t remember ever being this close to the dividing wall before. Jack was always warning him, telling him again and again, “Stay away from there,” or “You could get hurt in the…” What was it? The DMZ, that’s what he called it.

He didn’t see what was so bad about this DMZ place. It seemed sort of nice, quiet.

“Unidentified metahuman!” Johnny looked up from the dirt and back to the wall where the voice was being projected over loud speakers. He wondered if they were talking about him, so he pointed at his chest. “You have entered the line of demarcation. Withdraw immediately or we will open fire.”

Fire? The word reminded him of his battle with Mister Mayor. Sure, Jack used it too, but he was nice enough never to keep it away from him. Not like that other guy back in Downtown. He was mean.

“I don’t like fire.” He spoke the words softly. Jack always told him that he needed to make sure people could hear him when he talked. “No fire!”

They didn’t throw fire at him, but they did start shooting his guns. Johnny scrambled away as bullets rained down around him. He knew they couldn’t really hurt him, but he still didn’t like them. They stung.

“Hold your fire, men!” Johnny looked for the fire again, but he only saw a red, yellow, and white streak descend from the sky. At least the soldiers stopped shooting their guns.

The metahuman did several full circles over Johnny’s head as the young man watched in awe, before he slowed and alighted on the ground just in front of Johnny. Johnny recognized the slicked back black hair, the white costume with its gold logo, the red boots and capes. He would recognize Titan anywhere. He remembered reading the legendary metahero’s comic book back when he was just a kid.

“You’re Titan!” Johnny jumped up and down and clapped. “You’re so awesome! I used to have all your stuff. The toys, the lunchbox, even your movie on videotape! You’re the coolest ever!”

Titan arched one prominent eyebrow. “Er… yes, son. That is me. What are you doing in the demilitarized zone?”

“The whatsit?”

“You are from inside the Divide aren’t you?”

“Well, yeah, sure, but I just—”

“You are not allowed in this area, son. The demilitarized zone is the line of demarcation between the Divide and the United States. No one is allowed to enter or leave through it. Any trespassers are to be shot on sight.”

“Oh, that explains the guns.” Johnny shuffled his feet like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I didn’t mean it or anything. It was all an accident.”

Titan patted Johnny on the shoulder. “I’m sure it was, son. This Divide business is a dirty sort, but you and I both must follow the rules of law.” He glanced back at the wall. “If you allow me to escort you back to the boundaries of the Divide, we can end this without any further violence.”

“Are you going to fly me?”

Titan looked at the gleeful excitement on the face of the nearly seven foot tall man in front of him. “I suppose that can be arranged. Turn around and raise your arms up a couple inches. Keep them locked there, okay?”

Johnny nodded. He felt Titan’s hands touch the back of each of his upper arms. Less than a second later, Johnny felt his feet leave the ground.

“Woo hoo! Thanks, Titan, this is great!”

“What’s your name, son?”

“Johnny. I don’t really have a last name no more, but my friend Jack calls me Johnny B. Goode.”
Titan curved in a half-circle in the air before suddenly starting a zigzag motion. Johnny again whooped with joy.

“One more question, Johnny. How old are you?”

“Uh… well…” Johnny fell silent.

“What is it, Johnny?”

“Well, Jack told me never to tell anyone I don’t know really well how old I am.”

Titan gently descended to the ground at the edge of the DMZ. Johnny clapped with joy at his ride and Titan gave him a broad grin.

“Now who do you know better than me, Johnny? Didn’t you say you owned all my toys and read all my comics?”

“Well, yeah, I guess so.” Johnny scratched the whiskers on his chin. “I just don’t want to make Jack mad. He’s been a real good friend to me.”

“I promise not to tell if you promise not to tell.”

“Okay, Titan, as long as you can keep a secret.” Johnny leaned in close to Titan’s ear. “I’m fourteen,” he whispered.

“How is that possible?”

“I’m a little big for my age.”

Titan glanced back at the border wall only a few hundred yards away. He turned back to Johnny. “It is a travesty you’re forced to stay here, Johnny. But I can’t do anything to change it, at least not right now. I promise that I will find away to make this blasted place whole again. I swear it.”

“Gee, that’s mighty cool of you, sir.”

“Will you be able to get home all right, Johnny?”

“Sure. I’ve done it a lot of times. I mean, I’m fourteen, not eight.”

“So you are. Farewell, Johnny. Be careful and I am certain we will see each other again.”

“I sure hope so, Titan. You’re the best.”

Titan only smiled as he rose in to the air. He shot off a quick salute to Johnny which Johnny quickly and excitedly returned. Then he disappeared in a flash of movement.

Johnny couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as he headed back to home.

3.4 The Battle for Downtown

2008-04-09T07:42:00.001-05:00

“This ain’t right, Jack. I think I’m hurtin’ him!”

Johnny B. Goode paused for a moment from the smoldering ruin of a city street as he looked up at Jack Flash. Steam and smoke rose up from damaged pipes somewhere far below. Imbedded in the cement beneath him was the limp form of Mister Mayor.

“No, don’t stop, Johnny!”

Johnny couldn’t hear Jack as Mister Mayor shot upright and threw the massive young man off of him. Johnny crashed to the ground landing hard straight on his blond head. He groaned and rubbed at his head as Mayor turned his focus back to Jack Flash.

“Now that wasn’t playing very nice was it, Jack? It isn’t like you to play dirty in our little games.”

“Yeah, well maybe I’m getting over that.” Jack lit up again and propelled another wave of fire in Mister Mayor’s direction.

“You know you can’t hurt me with that, Jack. Your fire won’t do anything to me.”

Jack gave Mayor a wry grin. “Who said I was aiming for you?”

The natural gas in the air suddenly ignited in an explosive burst. Jack braced himself and closed his eyes, but Mister Mayor had no such luck. He cried out at the sudden blinding flash of light all around him.

Jack opened his eyes to see Johnny strike out at their metallic foe again. “Don’t let up this time,” Jack yelled. “You have to keep him down if we’re going to have a chance at this!”

“Yes, sir,” Johnny said. “I won’t let you down, Jack!” Johnny rained blow after blow down on Mister Mayor. Mayor struggled to fight back, but the blows drove him to his knees.

A flash of flame shot down from the skies above and engulfed Johnny. The young metahuman cried out as his skin and hair instantly started to burn. Jack looked up to see a short-haired Caucasian drop from several floors up in the building before him. He wore matching sweatpants and sweatshirt, but both were burning away from the halo of fire surrounding him.

Jack cursed under his breath. Another flame-wielder, could this day get any worse? He hurled a pair of fireballs towards the newcomer, but he deflected them away from him with bursts of his own fire.

Mister Mayor turned and delivered a massive blow to Johnny B. Goode as Johnny still struggled to put out the flames burning him. The blow caught Johnny unaware and sent him flying several stories skyward. He crashed down several blocks away.

Jack backed away from the other fire-guy and Mister Mayor. He knew when he was in trouble.

An engine revved some distance away. All three faces turned as Skull Solo flashed in to view on the back of his Harley. The bald, tattooed biker sneered at all three men as he kicked the bike in to gear. Jack cursed his luck at the arrival of another Cabinet member.

But Solo went straight for Mister Mayor. He let his bike slide out from under him and as he flew through the air, he raised both hands towards his former commander-in-chief. The skin around his face, hands, and arms went translucent as he activated his acid touch. Mayor cried out as Solo’s hands wrapped around his shoulders and melted the metal beneath them.

“Go!” Solo yelled.

Jack wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He turned and ran. He caught Chihuahua’s eye in the middle of the Dogpack’s forces. He gave a nod, which the Dogpack’s leader returned.

“Pull back!” The call rose up over the gang. Some confusion ran through the rank and file, but they all quickly turned to leave.

Jack cursed himself again and again. The fight was over today, and they had lost.

*****

Mister Mayor roared in pain at the turncoat’s touch. He had given Skull Solo everything, and now the bastard stabbed him in the back.

“I’m tired of being your sycophant, you psychotic bastard!” Mayor could see Solo’s clenched jaw through his translucent face. The skull seemed to glow brighter as Skull renewed his attack. “You’re going to die, you big metal fuck!”

Fire engulfed both of them. Solo screamed in pain as he panicked and threw his clothes away from him. He dropped to the ground and rolled to put out the flames.

Mister Mayor capitalized on Solo’s sudden distraction with a brutal kick to the head. Solo’s head snapped back with a brutal crack. Solo lay silent on the ground. Mayor turned to the new arrival. “Who are you?”

“My name is Able. I apologize for forcing myself in to your affairs, but it seemed like you needed the assistance.”

Mayor gave the man a lopsided grin. “I suppose so. Welcome, Able, rest assured you have made a friend today.”

“I don’t seek friends, only allies. I was hoping we could help each other, sir.”

Mister Mayor laughed. “A man after my own heart. I like you, Able. What is it you want?”

“Just to get to know this city better. I have come to the realization that without that knowledge, I will never find that which I seek.”

“So be it. You take a position with my Cabinet, and we will teach you the who, what, and wherefore of our little country. Who better than the mayor, eh?”

“Agreed.”

Mister Mayor gave him a broad grin as he let his massive metal form shed away from his skin. He shrank several inches down to his normal size. “Come on then. We have a victory to celebrate today.”

3.3 A Piece of A

2008-04-02T09:20:00.001-05:00

Everyone called her A. Mostly ‘cuz of her most obvious feature, but A liked to think it also stood for attack. She was the baddest bitch in all of Gold-Digger’s. And damn if this honky bastard wasn’t going to make her show it.

She took him for an easy mark when she first saw him. He seemed like the type of cat who would either cave and pay a little for the show or go down with little fight. Instead the pot-bellied redneck wanted to scrap and she was more than willing to oblige.

A knew this shit. She had been in scrapes and brawls since she was a kid. Growing up on the streets she learned how to fight at the same time she was learning to make money from her other assets. Now she could hold her own with the best of them. Nobody could match her with her ‘chuks or the rest of her arsenal, and she fought as dirty as the minds of Gold-Digger’s clientele.

She whipped the nunchuks around and straight at white-boy’s head. He threw his already injured arm up. A sharp crack radiated through the room as the bone shattered in a second place. White-boy shrugged off the injury without even a wince. He pushed forward and drove a shoulder straight in to her gut.

A stumbled back at the blow. She struggled to keep her footing and by the time she regained it, the honky had retrieved an aluminum baseball bat from the floor beside him.

With the bat in hand, she recognized him. They called him The Everyman. He protected a small district a couple blocks north of here. She knew he was a meta, knew he was tough, but now she planned to find out just how tough.

She twisted and threw a blow out with the nunchuks. They struck against Everyman’s bat as he parried. At the same time, A reached for her bracelet and yanked another charm free. Seconds later, she held a full sized scimitar in her other hand.

Everyman swung his weapon. A deflected it away with a stroke of the blade, and then brought the nunchaku up and around the bat’s base. The chain wrapped around the bat, and she yanked back to pull it away from her foe. Everyman’s hands slipped away, but as they did he flipped an almost invisible switch on the handle of the bat.

Electricity raced out the bat, through the nunchuks, and straight in to A. She shook and shuttered as time seemed to stop. After an interminable five seconds the bat clattered to the floor and A dropped down to one knee beside it.

She started to pull herself up, but Everyman’s boot caught her across the right side of the face. She dropped down on her hands and knees. He landed another foot to her gut. A dropped to the floor as she gasped for breath.

Everyman reached down and yanked her up by the red extensions weaved in to her hair. “Bitch, next time you pick a fight make sure it’s one you can win.” He shoved her face back in the floor and A could only hear his feet as he walked away.

Everything went black.

“A! A, wake up!” She opened her eyes. Another woman stood over her in a camouflage tank top and matching cap. Her reddish brown hair was pulled back in to a ponytail. Her large chest stretched the shirt to its limits as the woman stroked a stray hair out of A’s face.

“T?”

“Yeah it’s me, baby girl. What did you go and do to yourself?”

A looked around. They were backstage at Gold-Digger’s. She realized she was on the dressing room couch as a pair of half naked women walked past. She rubbed her aching cheek as she sat upright.

“I picked a fight I wasn’t ready for. That’s all. Next time though I’ll make sure the bastard burns for hurting me.”

T leaned in and kissed her. A sighed as T’s hands ran down her body. The pain seemed to melt away from her as T pulled back and gave her a smile.

“Don’t you worry,” T said. “The bastard will get his. All of the misogynistic bastards in this city will.” A couldn’t help but smile back.

3.2 187

2008-03-26T18:23:00.001-05:00

As Death Ray pulled himself from the broken remains of the bar, he heard the sound of clapping from behind him. He turned and felt the bile rise in his stomach.

187 gave Ray a cocky grin. At only five feet seven inches, even with his heavy musculature, the young Latino didn’t look like much. But the blood red symbiote embedded in his bare chest told those in the know otherwise. The strange creature blanked 187 with an invisible field that absorbed kinetic energy and channeled it back in to 187’s own muscles. His weapons were nowhere to be seen; he wore only slacks, an open shirt, and dark sunglasses. A step or two behind him stood Gena Rator, his aide, companion, and a metahuman herself. She could infuse anyone with increased strength and energy or enhance their metahuman abilities. Right now, as she was dressed in a slinky gold number with four inch stilettos to match, she served as little more than the redhead eye candy on 187’s shoulder.

“Aren’t you just a sorry fucking sight?” 187 said. “I mean seriously. Venus fucking de Milo did this to your ass? When the fuck did you become such a sorry son of a bitch. You trying to make me think I came back to the D for nothing?”

Death Ray glared daggers at him, but he could say nothing in return. He knew 187 from back in the day, back before he ever met Bob Cat. He remembered their partnership. He remembered the bastard stabbing him in the back.

“I guess it’s a good thing you’re as tough a bastard as you are, Ray. I know you will be past all these weak ass injuries in the next couple of days. Damn good thing, as otherwise I might not get the chance to take you out now. Wouldn’t want my big return to D-town to be for nothing, would I?” 187 took one swaggering step forward. “I’ve been waiting a long ass time to get another shot at you. But I sure ain’t going to take it now. I want you at one hundred percent when I kick your ass. No excuses from either one of us this time.”

Ray grimaced. His leg was broken, but he ignored the pain as he hobbled towards 187. 187 came forward as well, and the two men met in the middle of the empty bar. They stood just over a foot apart, staring down one another. Neither man would budge for a moment.

187 slowly grinned. “You ain’t getting me to fight you now. I’m picking the place and the time on this one. You hear me?”

Ray nodded. He had no other choice. If 187 wouldn’t fight him here, he didn’t have a way to make him.

“Figured you’d see it my way, even if you don’t have that dumb-fuck Bob Cat around to do your thinking for you. Well, not conscious, anyway.” 187 chuckled as he looked over at Bob Cat, still crumpled unconscious on the floor of the bar. He turned and walked back to Gena. He turned and reached down to wrap his hand around her. It started on her waist, but quickly slipped lower.

“Now if you don’t mind, me and this hot young thing have a night out on the town ahead of us.” He pulled her back in to him and planted a kiss on the side of her neck. “And even more exciting things back at my loft.”

187 laughed again as he guided Gena out of the bar.

Ray walked over to check on his friend. He would see to Bob Cat for tonight. Tomorrow he would be back on the hunt for his old enemy. This time, he would make sure 187 would not walk away.

3.1 In to the Garden

2008-03-05T18:46:00.002-06:00

The creature knew only one name for itself. Dumpster. They laughed when they said it, but he did not care. The name fit him and he was not one to complain. His body looked like something that was once human, although he had no memory of being so. He remembered very little before the fire. He awoke from the fire in, aptly enough, a dumpster. His skin bulged at strange places, and his spine bent at a strange angle. One shoulder rose as high as his bulbous head, and the hair that grew upon it melded with the tangles atop his head. His face would make even Quasimodo shutter. No nose was visible, just a slight slit where a nostril might be. His mouth was little more than a twisted slit below the nostril. One massive eye bulged on the right side of his head. The other twisted off on his left cheek, giving him a view of his side at all times. His skin festered and rotted on his body, and more than one insect resided in the legions upon his frame.

He lived on the streets of the Divide, in the small strip of land that split the Q-Zone from City Center. Most people called it the Alley, although Dumpster did not know that it was because of its long narrow shape. It served as a demilitarized zone between Mr. Mayor and his Cabinet and the forces of The Great Question. Only the lowliest of the low in the Divide stayed for more than a few moments in the Alley. It consisted of one street, its name long lost, and the buildings on either side. Past those buildings one would walk in to one of the opposing territories. They were Dumpster’s people, no matter how they treated their would-be protector. Dumpster walked the streets of the Alley, always looking for the next good deed he could try, and almost certainly fail, to perform.

That was exactly what the creature was doing far below Able. Able watched from a top one of the blasted-out buildings of the Alley as Dumpster made its way through. He didn’t know quite what to make of this metahuman presence, but he knew it certainly wasn’t the one he sought. Nonetheless something seemed to draw him to the strange figure. He couldn’t quite place the feeling, but he knew that this monstrosity was connected to his goal. He made his way down to the surface on a drift of heated air and made to follow him.

Dumpster didn’t seem to notice his presence. If anyone on the street realized he was following the creature they didn’t seem to care. The monster shambled farther down the street, making good time on his scrawny legs through the hovels that made up most of the homes of the Alley’s residents. He suddenly turned and shambled in to a building, and Able struggled to hurry through the cluttered street to follow.

He threw open the door to the building to find little more than a loose stone frame burned black on Judgment Day. A stairway lead down to a doorway. The door swung closed just as Able entered the building. He rushed down the stairs and yanked at the door handle but it would not budge.

He felt the shambling presence of Dumpster move farther away. Able rested his hands on the door handle and pumped his flames in to it. The handle melted in his hands, the lock with it. He easily shoved the door open and made his way up another set of stairs.

Dumpster sensed the other like him as he entered the Garden. He didn’t know who this strange power source was behind him. He didn’t really care. The Secret Garden was a place of peace, and all who found it could visit at least once.

Able followed the creature in to a strange clearing. They were still surrounded by the broken buildings of the Alley, but above them the sun shone brightly. No layer of smog and haze covered this place like it did the rest of the city. Which would serve it well, he supposed, as every inch of stone and earth was covered by some kind of vegetation. Dumpster made his way through it, but even his oversized feet and strange gait didn’t seem to disturb any of the plant life around him.

Able walked in to the garden, as he already knew he was exposed to anyone who wanted to see him here. Dumpster turned to look at him. The larger of the half-man’s two eyes opened wide to study Able as he walked by.

“What is this place?” Able said.

“Is the Secret Garden, it is,” Dumpster said. “Is most glorious place, filled with much goodness and light. Yes, sir.”

Able ignored Dumpster as he continued in to the garden. It seemed to stretch out all around him, yet the space was rather small.

As he turned to examine a tropical flower he doubted could ever grow in this northern clime, a figure emerged, seemingly from the forest itself. He wore a simple robe, dark brown in color. His hair and long, flowing beard matched the lavish green of the vegetation around him. A few inches behind him, a girl also appeared. She looked no older than fourteen, but Able had been to enough brothels in his time to recognize the air of youth on someone much older. He figured her to be at least nineteen or twenty, even though she didn’t even reach five feet. Her hair was pink, her nose and lower lip each pierced. She wore a halter top, large black boots, and a pair of tight abbreviated jeans. She sneered at him as he looked her over.

“Who are you?” Able said to them. “What is this place?”

The bearded man reached out and stroked a lily growing from the wall. The flower seemed to reach out as he touched it. In seconds it grew even larger and lusher in his hand. “Our friend Dumpster has the right of it. Though this place has no name, the Secret Garden is a good enough name as any.”

He looked to the young woman beside him. “My companion’s name is Flower, aptly enough. Like Dumpster before her, and you now, she found her way here by accident. She has returned time and again to experience the comfort given by the Garden. As for myself, I have had many names over the year, but you may simply call me the Gardener.”

Able looked at the deformed creature, the girl, and the Gardener each in turn. He tried to grasp at just what the hell was going on around him. Dumpster and Flower both read as metahumans in his sixth sense, but the Gardener… Never before had he seen anything even closer to the Gardener. His aura glowed like that of a metahuman, but despite the glow of power, he still read as a baseline human. Whatever or whoever this Gardener might be, he wasn’t normal.

“What is normal, Able? Normal is a word used by conformists to try to define something that does not exist.” Able glared at the bearded man. Gardener smiled. “Oh, yes, you’re an open book to me. I can feel your hatred, your fears, your wants, your needs. I know the name you hide from the world, and I know what you seek and how you can find it. But I ask you this: will finding your treasure really solve anything?”

Able flew towards the Gardener. His hands burst in to flames as he grabbed the man by the robe and lifted him in to the air. “Don’t play games with me or I will burn you and your garden to the ground, old man!”

The Gardener smiled at him. “You are welcome to try, but I doubt your flames could overcome the magic of this place.” He twisted his arms around and grabbed both of Able’s wrists. Despite the flame that sheathed them, they did not burn the old man. He pulled Able’s hands away from his robe.

“No harm can be done in the Garden. It is the nature of this place. The power that lies here protects all living things that enter it. It grants them energy, vitality, and life. It is nature empowered. All grow in the Garden, not just the plants.”

“Why? What does all this mean?”

“You will come to understand in time, Able. For now you should remember this place of power.” He poked Able in the chest, just above the heart. “Do you feel its power working on you? Remember that feeling. If you embrace it, let it change you, you will be able to visit the Garden many more times. If you refuse it, I doubt you will ever find your way back here again.”

Able shook his head. “You’re all insane. You ascribe some strange power to what is obviously just another fluke in this damned place. I don’t care about your Garden, I just want to get out of this place and continue my search. Somewhere in this godforsaken hole I will find what I’m looking for.”

Gardener shook his head. “I doubt very much you will find what you are looking for. I do not even think you truly know what that is.” He gave Able a weak smile, but the young Canadian’s calm, cold demeanor did not change. “Very well, have it your way. I know not its exact location, but you will find what you seek in City Center. Let the forces that reside there guide you to your target.”

“How do you know this, old man?”

“I know of everything that passes by these walls. It is enough to know the happenings of this scarred land, if not bring change to it.” He looked towards Dumpster and Flower, before he turned back to Able. “That I must do one person at a time.”

He shook his head and walked away from Able. He turned to glance over his shoulder. “I suspect your quest is only beginning, sir. I beg you to reconsider your path, else it be too late. Flower will lead you out.”

“What the fuck?” Flower’s abrasive tone came as a shock after the Gardener’s calm, reserved demeanor. “Why do I always have to be the goddamn tour guide and shit? Fuck that noise, Gardener!”

Able grinned until she turned and glared at him. “Come the fuck on if you’re coming,” she said and stomped past him.

He followed the girl back down the way they came, but now the door seemed newer, better built. The lock was whole, undamaged. She reached down and turned it. The lock clicked open and they passed through in to what looked like a vacant office building.

“Where are…”

“City center,” Flower said. “Ain’t that where you fucking want to be?”

“Uh, yeah, yes it is.” He walked over to the glass windows and peered down in to the streets below. A battle raged beneath him in the streets. He could clearly make out Mr. Mayor and some kind of flaming man in the midst of two small armies of locals battling one another. “How did we get here? The door…”

He turned, but Flower was gone. He threw the open the door. Inside he found a mop, broom, dustpan, cleaning chemicals. The normal things one might find inside a broom closet.

Silently cursing, he turned to watch the battle play out below.

2.4 Assault on Downtown

2007-12-05T18:13:00.000-06:00

Downtown was on fire.

Jack Flash looked at the flames in his hands, but he could do nothing about it.

The Dogpack were insane. He wanted only to stop the Cabinet before they could retake power over the Divide. The Dogpack wanted the same, but they were willing to sacrifice hundreds of lives to accomplish their goals.

He knew he couldn’t stop them. He was powerful, but not powerful enough to take either the four powered members or their hundreds of dawg-soldiers. I started this anarchy. It’s on my head. But if all these people are going to die today, than I am sure as hell going to make sure Mr. Mayor goes with them.

“You stupid fucks!”

Jack Flash turned to see Witchqueen’s portal close behind her. Matrix, her cyborg lover, stood beside her and it was his voice that rang out.

“You fuckers are going to come and burn down my fucking town?” Blades unsheathed from his finger-tips, each three inches long and razor sharp. Pitbull and Bulldog were unfazed by the threat, as they charged in, their dawgs following.

Jack Flash turned his attention away from them. Neither the Dogpack nor the Cabinet was his major concern.

No, he was arriving right now.

Mr. Mayor swooped down over the crowd and landed only feet away from Jack Flash. His blue eyes glowed as the aura faded around him. His body shifted from flesh to metal, and Jack Flash found himself standing only steps away from a solid steel monster who wanted him dead.

“You’re a damn fool,” Mr. Mayor said. “You know you can’t hurt me. Your fire doesn’t hurt me and I doubt any of these fools you call allies can do anything either. So leave now or I will take action against your territory as well as the puppies’.”

“I can’t do that, Mayor. This needs to end tonight.”

“Have it your way, Jack. But I’m no monster. You have been a worthy enemy and I will regret ending your life today.”

Jack lighted up his full flame aura. His clothes burned away as his entire body was engulfed by fire. He couldn’t cause any damage to Mr. Mayor, but he sure as hell planned to make the man hurt.

Mr. Mayor charged towards him, but Jack leaped in to the air. His jump took him up several stories. He knew Mr. Mayor couldn’t follow without dropping his metallic form. From his vantage point, he could see Pitbull swing his chain at Witchqueen, only to have the weapon pass through her as she went intangible. He saw Bulldog and Matrix as they traded blow after blow with no noticeable effect on either man. He watched as the people of Downtown took to the streets to take on the invasion of the city by the dawgs.

Chihuahua pulled his barely clothed concubine along by the chain on her neck as the blind man walked in to the midst of the melee. Behind the pair came dozens of canines of all shapes and sizes. They looked almost like some kind of retinue, but far angrier. The dogs were ready to fight, and they immediately started taking their aggression out on the people of Downtown.

Jack reached the peak of his jump and immediately used his flame powers to create a thermal beneath him. This allowed him to slow his descent. Mr. Mayor waited beneath him, ready to catch his prey.

The damn fool doesn’t know he’s right where I want him.

A streak of white and blue struck Mr. Mayor from behind. The metal man stumbled forward at the blow as his attacker came to a stop. Johnny B. Goode looked up at Jack, a dopier grin than usual on his face.

“Keep hitting him!” Jack said as he dropped back down to the ground.

Johnny was a good kid, a simple soul who grew up in the wrong town with the wrong kind of people around him. He was a natural meta, always as exponentially strong as he was slow on the uptake. He could take a beating and dish one out like the best of them, but all he ever wanted was to be hero. He first started to follow Jack around over a year ago. At first he was just a pain, but Jack quickly realized he wasn’t going away. So he did the exact opposite of everything he thought wise and took the kid as a sort of sidekick. He sent Johnny on the easiest of missions, usually the ones that brute force could easily solve. Like kicking the crap out of a would-be ruler that thought he was invincible.

Johnny struck a double handed blow across the back of Mr. Mayor. The concrete splintered beneath Mr. Mayor as his body was driven down. He looked up at Jack as he stood over the injured mayor.

“Keep it up until he’s out, Johnny!” Jack looked in Mr. Mayor’s eyes as he struggled to get to his feet. “Beat him down until he can’t move anymore!”

“But I might hurt him, Jack.”

“He wants to kill us, Johnny. We don’t have time to play nice. Do it!”

Johnny nodded. He drove a boot down in to Mr. Mayor’s back and continued to stomp the man farther in to the ground.

Jack turned back to the rest of the battlefield. He leaped off to help Bulldog against Matrix. This fight was still a long shot, but they might just have a chance now.

*****
In the shadows of a nearby alleyway, the biker known only as Skull Solo watched the battle. He knew he should be out helping his fellow Cabinet members in their fight, but at this point he didn’t much care. His time with the boys was over with now.

“You sure this will work?”

A man in a large, ruffled cloak walked up beside him. The rest of his outfit matched the cloak in audacity if not color. Multiple colors, none matching, all made from various man-made fabrics, mostly polyester. Anyone who saw him would immediately recognize the Gigolo. And any of those people, at least in this part of town would immediately try their hands at killing him.

No one caused more problems for Mr. Mayor than the Gigolo. Nobody.

“Yeah, this will work. With this data I will be able to crippled Downtown and take out Mr. Mayor once and for all.”

“And the money?”

“Twenty million Canadian waiting for you as soon as you hit the border. I’ve got my boys on the outside waiting to smuggle you through the fence.”

Skull pulled the DVD-rom from his vest pocket and placed it in Gigolo’s hand. “Then I guess it’s good doing business with you, boss.”

Gigolo smiled and patted Skull on the back. “Yes it is, my friend. It most certainly is.”

2.3 Death Ray's Return

2007-10-17T10:10:00.000-05:00

The din from inside suddenly turned to screams, and Death Ray knew that, like it or not, it was time to bail Bob’s ass out of the fire again.

He rushed back through the kitchen door just in time to see a massive cyborg raise his weapon to strike. At blindingly fast speed, he whipped the ray-gun from his belt and fired.

The blast caught the cyborg’s left wrist and sheered straight through it. Off balance the axe tilted away and sliced through the air just inches from Bob’s skull.

Someone grabbed Ray from behind. He whipped around to see his foe but saw nothing, even as the grip tightened on his shoulders. He suddenly choked as he felt Venus de Milo’s touch burn in to his skin.

He dropped to the floor and gasped at the pain. He let the ray-gun fall from his hand as he reached to his back. He yanked one of Venus’ detached arms from his back and slammed it down against the floor. Across the room, Venus cried out. Ray felt the other hand’s grip loosen and fall away.

His back still burned, but Ray retrieved his gun and climbed back to his feet. Ray shoved his way through the crowd, trying his best to get to Venus before she reached the exit.

A metal fist struck him alongside the head. The blow took Ray off his feet and he fell hard on his hip. His gun fell from his hand and slid several feet away as Wargod moved in for the kill.

Ray swept a foot out but instead of tripping the cyborg, he only managed to bruise his foot against its solid steel leg. Wargod reached down with his remaining hand and grabbed Ray by the throat.

Wargod lifted Ray up by the neck, and at the same time began to crush the life out of him.

Ray silently cursed as he raised his hands up and clawed at Wargod’s face. His fingers caught against Wargod’s raised right optic sensor. Ignoring the pain it caused him, Ray drove his fingers in to Wargod’s fleshy forehead and ripped the bionic eye away.

Wargod roared in pain and confusion. Ray felt the grip loosen around his neck. He took the distraction as an opportunity to bring his legs up. He drove them in to Wargod’s chest and pushed away. He felt his collarbone snap as he yanked free of the cyborg’s grip.

Ray tumbled to the ground and rolled up on to his knees. He reached down beside him and picked up the ray-gun from the floor.

Wargod turned towards him just in time to take the blast from the ray-gun in his remaining optical unit. The cyborg roared in confusion as it lost all vision.

Ray stood up and scanned the room for Venus. He knew she wouldn’t leave without her servant, but he could not see her anywhere.

“Over here!” At the sound of her voice, Ray turned back towards the bar. She stood atop it, but she was not alone. She held an unconscious Bob Cat by the hair, as she stroked his face with her free hand.

“If you don’t want to see your friend’s skin melt from his face, I suggest you drop your weapon.”

Ray grimaced as he lowered his weapon to the ground. Despite all the dumb shit Bob pulled, Ray still loved the kid like a brother. He couldn’t just stand by and let him die.

Wargod moved past him and straight towards Venus as she continued to talk. “We’ve got what we came for, and despite my hatred for both your asses, I really don’t feel like fighting to the death today. So if you let me and Wargod teleport out of here, I will let your little friend here go. Agreed?”

Ray nodded.

Wargod reached Venus’ side. Venus pushed Bob Cat in to Wargod’s free hand. She began to gyrate her hips on stage. A few drunken stragglers began to cheer at the free show.

After several seconds of dancing, a blue glow began to radiate from her skin. It coalesced in to hundreds of particles of floating light. The particles floated away from her and formed a ring. After a few more moments, the ring flashed to life and formed an iridescent blue rift in space/time.

Venus stepped towards the warp, but she stopped short before entering it. “By the way,” Venus said as she turned back towards Ray. “I’m a liar.”

Wargod threw Bob Cat’s limp form through the warp hole. Ray cursed. He reached down and yanked the gun from the floor as he sprinted towards his opponents.

Venus walked through the portal, followed two steps behind by Wargod. Ray pushed himself forward and dove towards the warp-hole.

It closed just as he reached it and Ray found himself hurtling in to the bar. He crashed down hard and felt his arm and several ribs break on the impact.

Ray pulled himself upright. He reached down, grabbed his arm, and shoved the bone back in to place. Damn it, he thought. Why does every night out with Bob have to end up like this?

He dragged himself towards the door. It was going to be a long night. He had a rescue effort to mount.

2.2 Enter The Everyman

2007-10-03T16:09:00.000-05:00

Gold-Diggers wasn’t the usual type of joint John Simmons liked to frequent. The beer was good, some of the least watered down in the entire Divide, but the entertainment just wasn’t his style. All the Latinos and black girls just weren’t his style. Give him a blonde with big boobs rather than this booty-shaking any day.

He shrugged the complaint off as he downed another Michelob in two gulps. He tapped on the counter and the bartender hustled another glass out of the tap. At least the drink is good, he reminded himself. And with the tab covered by the locals, the price is definitely right.

John enjoyed his task as the people’s Everyman. He enjoyed getting free drinks, he enjoyed the attention of his fans, and he most definitely enjoyed the ass-kicking his job entailed. For the first time in his life, he felt almost happy with who he was. And it scared him.

He finished his current beer, his tenth of the night, and signaled the bartender for the next. The bartender’s eyes narrowed a bit probably at the thought of all the free beer he was serving, but he served it up anyway. John looked down in to it and contemplated just how much his life had changed since the early days of the Divide.

He didn’t like thinking about that. He took another swig of beer and silently wished Pinaretti would find her way here. The city councilwoman had kept her job from the days back when it was a legitimate position in Detroit right through the reigns of both Mr. Mayor and the Antagonist. She was good at her job, and even those opportunistic, evil bastards recognized it. Unfortunately for them, she also served as his source of information on the comings and goings of the current political circles. In exchange, he happily protected her constituents as judge, jury, and executioner of anyone who would dare attack their thirty-five blocks.

And the sex with Jan was damn good too.

Unfortunately for Everyman, thoughts of Antagonist and sex made him even more depressed. He couldn’t help but think of Barbara, his bitch of an ex-wife. Most guys only had to deal with hatred issues when it comes to divorce, but not me. I have to deal with her, her psycho, city-controlling boy-toy, his minions, and my brainwashed little boy.

Vic, I’m sorry, kiddo. A better dad would never have let that happen to you.

John grunted and downed his beer. He pounded on the bar to get another beer sent his way.

God damn Jan needs to hurry her ass up, he thought.

He felt naked skin brush against his arm as someone sat down in the seat next to him. He glanced over as the new arrival ordered a shot of Jack.

He found himself looking at one of the booty-shakers from on stage, and damn, did she have a lot of it to shake. A light skinned black girl in a garish red wig, a cut-off t-shirt that must have been taped on to her chest, the usual shiny faux-gold jewelry, and a pair of coochie-cutters that left the bottom half of her ass in view of the world.

He thought for a moment about what Jan might look like in that outfit. Damn nice. He grunted and shoved the thought away before returning to his beer.

The stripper apparently wasn’t done with him. She shoved him hard in the arm. Had he expected the blow, John could have easily shrugged it off, but coming from nowhere it pushed him off balance on his stool. He straightened one leg to stop himself from falling to the floor.

He pushed back his first urge to attack and turned to look at the girl.

“Hey, you dissing me and my girls? Cuz I don’t take well to any little white boys coming in here and not at least going to the trouble to make sure me and my sistahs get paid. You feel me?”

“No, I don’t feel you, lady. I don’t give a shit about you or your skanky ass friends. I came here to have a drink. Do you ‘feel that’?”

“Look here, bitch-boy. I don’t care who your ass be, big mucky-muck local hero or whatever. You dis me and my girls and I will kick your ass.”

John leaned over and looked at her shorts. He smiled a drunken grin. “I think it would be way easier for me to hit yours. Now get the hell out of here.”

He started to turn back to his drink just as the girl brought her shot glass hard in to his face. The blow caught him flat-footed and he fell back and out of his seat. He landed hard on his own ample but far less attractive posterior.

“I told you not to treat me and my girls like that. Now I’m going to have to beat your bitch ass.” She yanked one of the charms that dangled from her bracelet free. John watched in shock as the charm suddenly enlarged in to a full-sized nunchaku.

John rolled away as the stripper brought the nunchuks down where he lay only moments before. Tile splintered on the floor. John glanced back towards the bar where his own weapon still sat propped against this side of the table.

His vision came back up just in time to see the nunchuks swing back his way. He threw up his left arm as a sacrifice. He felt the bones shatter as the stripper’s weapon struck. He instantly willed the pain away.

John quickly skimmed his body back across the rapidly clearing floor. Using his good arm, he pushed himself easily back to his feet. His steady drinking now over a minute gone, he could feel his body already erasing its effects. Normally he hated his inability to sustain a good drinking buzz but in this case he thanked his lucky stars.

“Bitch, you just made a big mistake,” he said. He raised his remaining good arm in a boxing stance.

“The name’s A, Everyman. Just A. You remember that when your ass is sitting in the hospital in the morning.” She lunged forward. Everyman shook his head and wished he could have just one night of peaceful drinking.

No, I don’t, he thought. I love this shit.

Once again, it was time to kick a whole lot of ass. Literally.

2.1 Inside the Q-Zone

2007-09-27T09:06:00.000-05:00

As Able entered it some distance behind Mouthpiece, the Q-Zone seemed highly overrated. The Q-Zone was famous even outside the Divide for its randomly occurring “wild zones”, areas where reality shattered and the laws of physics had no meaning. Anything could happen in a wild zone. The stories made it seem like the things popped up every few seconds, but Able saw nothing of the sort. He kept his eyes open nonetheless as he focused his metagene detection ability forward.

He could feel several more metahumans in the Q-Zone, but most seemed to be congregated somewhere ahead. As they neared and Mouthpiece slowed down ahead, Able could see the edges of the crowd formed in the Q-Zone’s center. Able scowled. The only thing he liked less than Americans were groups of Americans.

He pushed his revulsion to the side and pushed his way in to the crowd. As he stepped forward he could see a raised dais in the center of the crowd. Mouthpiece joined his compatriots on the dais. Able recognized the Great Question’s commander Conundrum as well as his two dwarfish sidekicks. A woman dressed like an American cowboy hovered a few steps behind Conundrum. Another man, cloaked in a robe covered in druidic runes, stood off to one side.

The crowd cheered their leaders with reckless abandon. Able felt like he had somehow found himself in some B-movie third world country, where the population mindlessly loved their evil leader. Something here wasn’t right; a tingle in his spine reiterated it.

Conundrum listened to a few words whispered in his ear by Mouthpiece. He smiled. Mouthpiece stepped forward and the crowd went quiet to listen to his proclamation.

“The enemy of the people of the Q, the American’s vile agent Mister Midnight, is dead! He fell at my hands only minutes ago. The Great Question takes another victory in the control of our great Divide!”

The crowd cheered with perfect timing.

“No!” A figure leaped from within the cheering crowd. The multicolored rags she wore fell away in mid-air. Beneath it, she wore a white costume that glowed with light as she floated down to the ground on the stage.

“I will avenge my partner’s death. Prepare to die, Mouthpiece.”

The two midgets moved in to protect their leaders, but the man in the druid’s robes stepped forward. “Shock, Awe, hold,” he said to his compatriots.

The midgets dropped back a few steps. The robed man pulled his hood back revealing rows of nappy dreads. “Doctor Dawn, welcome to the Q-Zone. I plead with you; do not throw your life away here today.”

“It’s you that will die today, Antagonist. You and all your kind!”

Antagonist looked around at the members of the Great Question, both on stage and off. “You’re surrounded by hundreds of my men, Dawn. I rule this city while you’re just a pathetic pawn of an inept government. I will give you one more chance, stand down and leave.”

“Never.”

Americans and their showboating, Able thought. If the fool of a woman would have struck from her position in the crowd, Mouthpiece would be dead now. Instead she placed herself in hopeless odds with no chances of victory. Idiot.

Antagonist shook his head. “Great Question, stand down. I will deal with this fool myself.”

Doctor Dawn dove at the Great Question’s leader but Antagonist shot in to the sky above her head. Dawn answered with bolts of concentrated light fired in Antagonist’s direction, but he answered with a raised force field. The lasers ricocheted in to the sky.

Antagonist dropped the field and unleashed his own devastating blast of force that drove Doctor Dawn hard in to the ground. Dawn’s flowing outfit began to glow even brighter. Able shielded his eyes as he felt what came next.

A blinding light filled the courtyard. Able uncovered his eyes as Dawn’s glow faded back to normal levels. She struck out with another series of blasts in Antagonist’s direction. The ruler of the Divide answered with a shield of his own energy.

With a scream, Antagonist unleashed another blast of pure force. Dawn flew back several feet before crashing in to the solid wall to the back of the dais.

Antagonist walked over to Doctor Dawn’s unconscious form and grabbed her by the chin. He took a moment to look at the woman’s face before he turned to Mouthpiece. “She is yours to work with, Mouthpiece. I will expect her ready by this evening’s festivities.”

“Yes, my liege.”

Antagonist turned to the crowd and raised his arms in victory. The crowd cheered.

Savages, Able thought. Americans at their worst. Nevertheless, he was thankful for the display. None of the metahumans here possessed what he needed. As it should be. I would rather die than make allegiance with this body before me.

Able turned and made his way out from within the crowd. He felt one more metahuman presence nearby. Best to check it, then leave this godforsaken hole forever.

Antagonist

2007-09-14T18:59:00.000-05:00

Antagonist

Dex: 06	Str: 03	Bod: 05	Motivation: Power Lust
Int: 09	Wil: 08	Min: 06	Occupation: Gang leade, supreme ruler of the Divide
Inf: 08	Aur: 09	Spi: 09	Resources {or Wealth}: 014
Init: 023		HP: 070

Powers: Emotion Absorption (Energy Blast, Flight, Force Field): 25, Energy Blast: 4, Flight: 4, Force Field: 4

Bonuses and Limitations: Emotion Absorption is an automatic action when around Antagonist’s followers. Whenever in the Q-Zone, Antagonist can be counted as having 18 APs of absorbed emotions in reserve, usually distributed evenly around his powers.

Skills: Charisma: 12, Detective (law): 7

Advantages: Area Knowledge (the Divide); Government Credentials (high); Expansive Headquarters; Gift of Gab; Omni-Connection; Scholar (business)

Connections: Crime (low), Great Question (high), Skull Solo (low), Street (low)

Drawbacks: Authority Figure; Dependent (Jaena); Enemy (Everyman); Enemy (Jack Flash); Enemy (Mr. Mayor); Minor Psychological Instability

Background:
Real name: Anthony Goen IV
Marital status: Single
Known relatives: Jaena (daughter), Anthony III (father, deceased)
Group affiliation: leader of the Great Question
Base Of Operations: Q-Zone
Height: 5'9" Weight: 194 lbs.
Eyes: Black Hair: Black

Powers and Abilities:
Antagonist feeds off the strong emotions of others and can channel them in to his own abilities. This fuels his telekinetic abilities to fly and project force fields and blasts. With his loyal supporters in the Q-Zone behind him, Antagonist has a vast store of energy.

In addition, Antagonist is a skilled manipulator. With the powers of his aide de camp Mouthpiece to support him, Antagonist projects a mind-numbingly charismatic presence which gives him the ability to lead many individuals in to following him.

History:
The heir to the Goen steel fortune, Anthony Goen grew up as a rebellious young rich kid, undisciplined and unwatched. He fell in to a life of sex, crime and drugs, but it wasn’t until he impregnated his African American girlfriend that his father took an interest in his son’s fall. The elder Goen beat his son to within an inch of his life. During his recovery, Anthony’s father declared his son his official heir and set out to brutally manipulate the younger Anthony in to a rightful heir to his empire. Anthony’s daughter Jaena was left with her mother and a large trust fund in exchange for mother and daughter’s silence.

The elder Goen died days after Anthony’s twenty-second birthday and Anthony quickly took total control of his father’s holdings. Within two years, Anthony expanded them in to a vast multi-venture empire. One of the fields he financed study in was metagenetic research, in hopes of unlocking his own metahuman abilities. His researchers cut costs left and right, performing experiments on prostitutes and the homeless with little care for their subjects’ well-being.

*CLASSIFIED*

His fury at the destruction of the experimental materials proved short lived as he found something in the explosion had activated his own metagene. Goen left Detroit for the south of France where he would live for the next several years. Meanwhile, Detroit was ravaged in the Endstorm, and in the aftermath, the Divide rose from the ashes.

Five years later, Anthony, now richer than ever, received word from his former girlfriend’s mother in the Divide. His ex was dead and his daughter Jaena was ready to see him.

Wanting to drive the final nail in his father’s coffin, Goen moved in to the Divide to retrieve his daughter. Once there, he found an empire ripe for the plucking. Gathering together Conundrum, Mouthpiece, Cowgirl, Shock, Awe and the rest of the forces of the Great Question, Goen worked behind the scenes to take control of the Q-Zone. For months, no one knew who the Great Question’s mysterious leader, known only as the Antagonist, could be.

Jack Flash uncovered Antagonist’s existence. Antagonist quickly found himself regularly battling Flash as well as the hero of the people known as Everyman. His manipulation behind the scenes lead to both men’s repeated defeat. With his two greatest enemies out of the way, The Great Question attacked City Center. Antagonist dethroned Mr. Mayor and took control of the Divide itself.

His manipulations lead to his recruiting of Everyman’s ex-wife Barbara and son Vic, whose presence served to keep the hero at bay. In utter control of the city, Antagonist now seeks to increase the size of his empire past the borders of the Divide, while from within the city’s own heroes fought against him and his control of the city.

Personality:
Antagonist’s motivations are closely guarded, known only to himself and his confidants in the Great Question. His one true desire is power, and he will do anything to acquire even greater levels of it. Lascivious by nature, Antagonist keeps a harem of several women to serve his “needs” at any given time. Antagonist shows a different side around his daughter Jaena whom he treats with care despite her utter lack of respect for him.

Barbara Simmons (also pictured)
Barbara is the ex-wife of John “Everyman” Simmons. She has normal human (2 AP) stats but for the following: Dex: 3, Body: 3, Int: 4, Detective (law): 6, Weaponry (firearms): 4

Barbara, called Babs by the members of the Great Question, is a masochist at heart. She revels in the pain she causes her former husband, and is easily the proudest member of Antagonist’s harem.

The Everyman

2007-09-05T10:05:00.000-05:00

Everyman

Dex: 05	Str: 05	Bod: 05	Motivation: Thrilll of Adventure
Int: 05	Wil: 08	Min: 07	Occupation: Vigilante
Inf: 06	Aur: 07	Spi: 06	Resources {or Wealth}: 005
Init: 018		HP: 035

Powers: Mind Over Matter: 12, Regeneration: 4, Systemic Antidote: 10

Skills: Martial Artist: 5*, Occultist (occult knowledge): 4, Thief: 5*, Weaponry (melee, missile, exotic): 5*

Bonuses and Limitations: Weaponry (exotic) only applies to his electrified bat

Advantages: Area Knowledge (The Divide), Double Jointed, Iron Nerves, Local Hero, Stabilization

Connections: Councilwoman Pinaretti (high), Jack Flash (high), Street (high)

Drawbacks: Debt (Rob Vile), Enemy (Antagonist), Public Identity, SIA to Beer, Traumatic Flashbacks (to crucifixion;, uncommon, triggered by having hands tied)

Equipment: Electrified Bat [Body: 7, EV: 3, Lightning: 7] Limitations: Lightning has a range of Touch

Background:
Real name: John Simmons
Marital status: Divorced
Known relatives: Barbara (ex-wife), Victor "Vic" (son)
Group affiliation: None
Base Of Operations: Simmons residence in the southern portion of The Divide
Height: 6' Weight: 220lbs.
Eyes: Blue Hair: Blond

Powers and Abilities:
John Simmons possesses the ability to shut off his pain receptacles at will. This allows him to remain active in combat far longer than any normal human. In addition, his body possesses enhanced healing abilities and a high level of resistance from poisons and disease.

A trained street brawler, The Everyman carries a bat which possesses an electrical charge that he uses as a dangerous offensive weapon. Simmons is never seen without his bat near at hand.

History:
Little is known of the history of the Everyman before he gained his abilities. A native of Detroit, he gained his powers sometime either shortly before or after the city’s destruction. He became one of the city’s earliest vigilantes, although his earliest endeavours were often fights with reformed villain Double Cross. To this day, Simmons and Double Cross don’t see eye to eye.

Unlike many other metahumans remaining in the Divide, John Simmons had a wife and son. His lack of desire to keep his identity secret led to them falling in to dangerous situations and his wife Barbara would eventually leave him while he was out on the town. This brought about even more binge drinking by the Everyman and in turn even more rowdiness.

The Everyman was one of the first men to challenge the Antagonist and his minions in the Great Question. But he fell victim to the Antagonist’s mind games over and over again. Ultimately, he fell to the Antagonist and his two newest recruits: his ex-wife Barbara and son Vic. They watched in cold blood as Simmons was crucified and left to die on the edge of the Q-Zone.

Simmons was rescued by the residents of his own neighborhood. Nursed back to health he met Councilwoman Vanessa Pinaretti, a thirty something former alderwoman who remained in her position of power under Mr. Mayor’s reign. She helped him to find a new place as a community leader and protector, and he continues his quest to clean up the Divide and defeat the Antagonist once and for all.

Description:
See picture. John Simmons usually wears simple street clothes, most often a pair of ragged blue jeans and a wifebeater.

Personality:
John Simmons is a blue collar slag at heart. He likes to drink, he likes to fight, and he likes to have a good time with the ladies. But despite all this, he does have a layer of emotional instability, mostly related to the betrayal of his former wife and son. He will do just about anything to convince them to leave the Great Question, and in turn it fuels his undying hatred for Antagonist.

Don’t know what these stats mean? Buy a copy of Blood of Heroes for more information!

1.3 Celebration's End

2007-08-24T17:39:00.000-05:00

Bob Cat laughed as he wrapped his arms around the shoulders of two beautiful women. As the redhead to his left laughed, she swayed against him obviously very drunk. The black girl to his right rubbed her hands all over his chest and arm, obviously high on something much stronger. Bob didn’t much care. Between the drink, the drugs, and his horde of fans around him, Bob was feeling no pain either.

Death Ray sat in the corner. The silent vigilante didn’t quite understand his partner’s “unwinding”. This frivolity left them opens for any kind of attack and therefore put the people of the Steelworks in even more danger of attack at the hands of any rogue metas. The more he thought about it, the angrier it made him. His rage slowly burning higher, he decided the best course of action was simply to leave. He nodded in farewell to the bartender and took his leave of the club.

Bob didn’t even notice. He was ready to call it a night himself. He pulled the women towards the back room. Like all the clubs in the Steelworks, this one had a private room set up in back just for his use. Well, mine and the ladies, he thought.

The two young women followed him gladly, but even if they hadn’t, he really didn’t have any worries. Any of the women in the club would be ready for him at any time. And I’ll get to all them soon enough.

A low rumble from somewhere outside the front of the club built to a level that drowned out even the grinding beat of the industrial music blaring through the club. Through the haze in his head, Bob couldn’t quite figure out what the noise meant. Was someone doing construction work at two a.m.?

The front wall of the building exploded inward, sending shards of concrete in to the packed crowd. Light radiated from the street and in the midst of it, a nearly seven foot tall man stood in the shattered remains of the wall. All but the lower right half of his face was covered in solid steel as was the entire left half of his body and his right arm.

Bob Cat, even through his stupor, recognized the bioengineered super-warrior known as Wargod, even as Wargod brandished his vibro-axe against the nearest drunken reveler. And where Wargod was, Venus de Milo won’t be far behind.

As if on cue, the light from the street flashed and disappeared. An olive-skinned woman stood just behind the savage cyborg. She wore nothing more than a wispy cover-up. Draped over her shoulders, the wrap barely covered her breasts and fell down to wrap around her torso. But the cover-up was a thin white cloth which allowed anyone who wanted to see anything they wanted.

Bob Cat gaped for a moment like he always did when he first saw Venus, but he focused as the supposed goddess raised her arms. The limbs suddenly detached at the shoulders and shot in to the crowd. The hands of the flying limbs quickly wrapped around the throats of two panicking partiers. Almost immediately, her two victim’s skin began to decay as her very touch drained the life from them.

That’s more than enough, Bob Cat thought. He released his two dates and shoved them in to the back room. Without losing a beat, he continued forward at high speed and pushed himself up and over the first club-goer he met. He spring-boarded up and off the confused man and pushed himself up and over the rest of the crowd. He came down straight at Wargod, his claws bared.

His claws scraped against the bigger man’s armored face but only left superficial damage. Bob flipped away again just in time to avoid a sweep by Wargod’s vibro-axe. But when he landed, the drink and drugs took their toll as his feet wobbled under him. Wargod raised his free hand and fired a pair of slugs in to Bob’s chest. His cat-suit absorbed some of the damage, but Bob could feel the fire in his chest at the sudden shots.

Wargod kicked Bob Cat in the side of the head. Bob fell back to the floor as Wargod hovered over him.

The massive cyborg raised the vibro-axe. “My lady commands your death,” Wargod said in his mechanical voice. “Prepare to die.”

Bob cringed and closed his eyes as the axe swept down towards his head.

1.2 Going to the Dogs

2007-08-08T10:51:00.000-05:00

You have got to be crazy, Jack! Only a crazy man would willingly throw himself to the dogs like this.

Jack Flash groaned at his inadvertent joke. From his rooftop purchase, he could see down through the warehouse’s skylight. All four members of the Dogpack’s inner circle, along with dozens of wild dogs, frolicked at the group’s Olympic size pool. It’s now or never, he thought. He took a deep breath, pulled open the skylight, and dropped down in the midst of the Dogpack.

It took only seconds for Pitbull and Bulldog to leap from their revelry in the pool straight at the sudden invader. Jack threw himself backwards to avoid the massive fist of the hirsute, pug-nosed Bulldog. He bared his teeth as he charged again at Jack, but Jack rolled away from the attack. Bulldog’s momentum took him several feet past where Jack now stood.

Jack flamed both arms on. He aimed carefully and unleashed a blast of flame straight in to the oversized degen’s posterior. Bulldog yelped as his swim trunks smoldered and burst in to flame.

Jack turned just in time to see Pitbull’s chain strike before it wrapped around his neck. Pitbull’s face showed strain even past his wild eyes as he willed the enchanted chain to pull tighter around Jack’s neck.

Jack summoned the flames around his entire being, but the chain’s magical properties protected it from melting away. He could feel himself running out of oxygen. He fell to one knee as his flames died out.

“Please,” he said with what was left of his voice. “I didn’t come here to fight you.”

The various canines in the room circled around Jack. They sat down on their haunches and studied him as he choked to death. Pitbull stood just beyond them as he willed his chain ever tighter.

“Stop!”

The chain’s grip loosened slightly as Pitbull turned to look at Chihuahua. The leader of the Dogpack stood only slightly taller than his namesake. Completely blind, he held a chain linked around the neck of the barely clad woman known only as the Bitch. She stood silently behind him and through their mental link, served Chihuahua as his eyes.

“You have sixty seconds to explain yourself, human, before I let Bulldog and Pitbull tear you to pieces. Start talking.”

“The…chain…”

Chihuahua and his consort’s gaze both turned to Pitbull. “Loosen your grip,” Chihuahua said. “Just enough to let him talk.”

Pitbull nodded. Jack instantly felt the chain loosen around his neck.

“Better, much better.”

“You have forty-five seconds now,” Chihuahua said. “Explain your business in the Marked Territory or die.”

“Yeah, right,” Jack said. “As I said, I didn’t come here to fight. As it stands I have absolutely no problem with any of you or your gang. As far as I’m concerned, the Dogpack is one of the few forces in this mixed up pile of shit we call a city that I don’t worry about. But we do have something in common; something that all of us need to worry about.

“His name is Mr. Mayor.”

Bulldog guffawed from behind Jack. “The Mayor’s gone, fool. The Questions took care of him months ago. Those bastards stole victory right out from under us.”

Jack shook his head. “I wish it was that easy. The Mayor and his Cabinet have been working for weeks. Building up their forces, securing their power center, and preparing an attack on the Q-Zone.”

Chihuahua nodded. “And an attack that large would spill out over most of the Divide. Including our unfortunately poorly placed territory. Is that what you’re trying to say, human.”

“That’s what I’m saying. And the name’s Jack Flash, if you don’t mind.”

The Bitch whispered something barely audible. Chihuahua’s oversized ears twitched as he heard every word several feet away.

“We have heard of you,” Chihuahua said. “You have many enemies, Mr. Flash. Why would you think we would help you mount an attack on the Mayor’s forces?”

“Because I know as well as you do that the only thing you hate more than the Great Question is Mr. Mayor and his Cabinet. And I know you want to see him back in power even less than I do.”

Chihuahua smiled his toothless grin. “You are wiser than I would have guessed. If what you say is true, the Dogpack will stand beside you. What is your plan?”

“I see only one chance for success,” Jack said. “We have to go in now, before they can strengthen their power base anymore. With your help, we can hit them like lightning, take out the Cabinet, and remove Mr. Mayor from this world once and for all.”

Chihuahua shook his head. “I don’t like it. It runs too many risks. It—”

“It’s our only chance. Are you with me or do I go in alone?”

Bulldog and Pitbull looked to one another then to the Bitch. They both nodded. The woman whispered again. Chihuahua smiled. “The decision is unanimous. The Dogpack stands with you, Mr. Flash. When do we attack?”

Jack smiled. “Can you get this chain off me first?”

Chihuahua laughed. The chain fell from his neck as Chihuahua and the Bitch moved in to stand beside Jack. “Come, join us, and you can give us all the details.”

Jack rubbed his neck and nodded. “We’ve got only hours to work over this plan. Let’s get to work.”

1.1 Able's Arrival

2007-08-02T12:58:00.000-05:00

Able felt the bile rise in his throat as he stepped off the bus and on to the streets of the Divide. He knew that the city lived under its own rule now, but he could still taste the unsavory American spirit in the air. Detroit may be gone, he thought, but all its vileness remains.

Able watched the other thirty or so Canadians on the bus exit the bus and head off in to the streets. Most looked confused by the blasted surroundings, though a few seemed to know where they were going. None had been to the Divide before; buses to the city-state ran only one way.

Able didn’t care. He knew his quest must continue here, whether he liked it or not. He retrieved his small rucksack from beneath the bus and exited the terminal.

The sign above the bus station exit told him he was now in Hardcore City. Well known even before the Disaster as a haven for crime, the westernmost district of the Divide was now little more than a blasted wasteland. Some of the worst metahuman battles in the days following the Disaster occurred here and like much of the city, no one ever bothered to repair any of it.

Able stood outside the bus terminal and closed his eyes. He concentrated and activated the oldest of his stolen powers. He could feel the darkened taint of hundreds of degens and the warm glow of over a dozen metahumans. A haven for metahumanity indeed.

Two distinct metahuman signatures sparked his interest. Both strong, both very close to one another. The second seemed to be following the first. No better place to start, Able thought. If I have to go through every metahuman in the city, I will find what I’m looking for.

Able focused his extra-normal sense on the two meta-signatures and started after them. The two metahumans were just over four blocks away and conveniently enough on his way out of Hardcore City. They moved slowly, far slower than he could move. Able sped up to a brisk jog. With his sweatshirt and backpack, he could look like a jogger. Only a moron would jog in Hardcore City, but Able knew he could handle any threat that came his way.

He got a few strange looks, but no one was ready to match his glare let alone try to start trouble. With the other metas much slower pace he was able to catch up to them in just over six blocks. He ducked in to an alley about half a block away from the man in the rear and watched.

Both men had their backs to Able. The man in rear, dressed in black from head to toe followed after the man in the lead. He kept to the shadows, which seemed to thicken as he moved in to them. The man farther ahead, nearly a block from Able was flanked by four normals, all dressed in multiple garish colors. Clown colors, Able thought. They have to be Great Question goons.

The Great Question were the current rulers of the city. Able knew little about the street gang and its leader Antagonist. Only one member of the group had any real notoriety outside the Divide: Mouthpiece. An infamous Middle Eastern business man turned metahuman yes man, Mouthpiece served as the public voice for the Great Question.

And he was walking only a block away from Able.

Mouthpiece turned and for a moment, Able wondered if he might be in for a fight. Instead Mouthpiece’s gaze went to the nearby shadows where the man in black seemed to have disappeared.

“Come out, Midnight,” Mouthpiece said. “I tire of this cat and mouse game.”

The man emerged from the shadows, but the darkness seemed to follow him as he walked. “That’s Mister Midnight to you, Mouthpiece. I am here to take you out of the Divide and in to custody.”

“You have no authority here, Midnight,” Mouthpiece said. “And you have no chance in hell of defeating me, let alone the entire Question.”

The shadows shot forward in four tendrils and wrapped themselves around Mouthpiece’s goons. The tendrils of pure darkness squeezed and Able could almost hear the cracking of each man’s bones as Mister Midnight crushed the life out of them.

“Your Question goons can’t help you,” Mister Midnight said. “Today you die, Mouthpiece!”

“You’re a fool, Midnight. You’re a fool who doesn’t even know why he’s in the Divide. You don’t want to kill anybody, especially me. No, you just got lost on a mission and wandered in to the Divide by mistake, didn’t you?”

Able thought Mouthpiece must have gone insane. Who would stop to tell a preposterous story in a life and death battle? But Midnight hesitated at the words. He seemed confused and unsure of where he was or what he should do.

Mouthpiece smiled and opened his mouth wide. He inhaled sharply and Able had just enough time to cover his ears.

A blast of concentrated sound smashed in to Mister Midnight’s chest. Midnight’s midsection twisted unnaturally as bones shifted at the sledgehammer-strong blow. As Midnight wavered on his feet, Mouthpiece inhaled. The next blast shattered Mister Midnight’s skull.

Mister Midnight’s corpse wobbled for a second longer before it dropped to the sidewalk with a wet thud.

Mouthpiece closed his mouth. He took a few calming breathes as he checked his three piece suit. He brushed some imaginary dust from his lapel before he turned and started back towards the Q-Zone, now alone.

Able waited for Mouthpiece to get about a block farther away before he ran out to look at Mister Midnight’s corpse. Between the full body costume and the misshapen body beneath, the figure no longer even looked human.

Bob Cat

2007-07-26T12:55:00.000-05:00

Bob Cat

Dex: 09	Str: 05	Bod: 06	Motivation: Anti-Hero Thrill of Adventure
Int: 06	Wil: 07	Min: 07	Occupation: Vigilante
Inf: 07	Aur: 06	Spi: 08	Resources {or Wealth}: 006
Init: 026		HP: 055

Powers: Danger Sense: 5, Mystic Sense: 5

Bonuses and Limitations: none

Skills: Acrobatics: 10, Charisma: 7, Martial Artist: 8, Military Science (tracking): 6, Occultist (occult knowledge, ritual magic): 4, Thief (escape artist): 9, Weaponry (melee, missile): 9

Bonuses and Limitations: none

Advantages: Attractive, Gift of Gab, Lightning Reflexes, Local Hero

Connections: Death Ray (high), Gena Rator (high), Mystic Community (low)

Drawbacks: Dark Secret (*CLASSIFIED*), Enemy (*CLASSIFIED*), Limelight, MIA to being center of attention

Equipment: Cat’s Claws [Body: 12, Claws: 8, Clinging: 2, Spritual Drain: 4] Limitations: Spiritual Drain has a range of touch

Catsuit [Body: 12, Invulnerability: 18, Regeneration: 6, Running: 6, Speak With Animals: 7] Limitations: Invulnerability only works when reach max negative body; Invulnerability only has 9 uses per person (Bob has used up 3); Speak With Animals only works on felines.

Background:
Real name: Robert Luna
Marital status: Presumed Single
Known relatives: none
Group affiliation: sometimes partner of Death Ray, ally of Gena Rator
Base Of Operations: Steelworks district of The Divide
Height: 6' 2" Weight: 195 lbs.
Eyes: Blue Hair: Dark Brown

Powers and Abilities:
Bob Cat possesses a pair of cat talismans which have granted him several abilities. His Catsuit grants him regenerative abilities, as well as literally giving him 9 lives, 3 of which Bob has already used. The suit also allows him to run faster than any human, at speeds equivalent to the cheetah. He can also communicate with any feline while wearing the suit.

His Cat’s Claws work mainly as an offensive slashing weapon, but can also be used to dig in to walls and climb. At his command, the Claws can also work to literally drain the spirit from his foes, although Bob fears this attack almost as much as its victims.

Bob possesses an inherent tie with the mystic which gives him both the ability to sense the usage of magic nearby him as well as to read when attacks towards him will occur. This serves to make it very hard to suprise Bob Cat in battle.

Bob is an accomplished fighter, equal to if not greater than his partner Death Ray. He possesses a wide variety of training in fields such as tracking, escapology, weapons, and the occult. The origins of these abilities are still shrouded in mystery.

History:
Robert Luna’s history between his childhood growing up in nearby Battle Creek, Michigan, and his arrival in the Divide remains a mystery. A seemingly normal child, Luna left home after graduating high school and did not return to the area for over a decade.

When he did, Robert Luna was gone and the bombastic vigilante Bob Cat stood in his place. Bob initially harassed the local gang populations, including both the Dogpack and the Great Question. After only a few weeks, he met Gena Rator. Gena kept him focused on actually trying to help the people of the Divide and also set up the partnership between Bob & Death Ray. Bob & Ray have since become good friends and staunch allies and work to carve their own destiny in the Divide.

Personality:
While his partner is grim as all get out, Bob Cat is a hyper-active, over-excited metahuman who can never quite be quiet. he stays in good cheer almost constantly, and is obsessed with being the center of attention in public. His attitude has made him something of a local celebrity, and even the metahuman rag sheets report on his life despite his current location. Privately, Bob is a little less happy as he constantly worries that his actions of the past will come back to haunt him....

Don’t know what these stats mean? Buy a copy of Blood of Heroes for more information!

Jack Flash

2007-07-17T12:25:00.001-05:00

Jack Flash

Dex: 06	Str: 03	Bod: 05	Motivation: Upholding the Good
Int: 06	Wil: 08	Min: 08	Occupation: Vigilante
Inf: 06	Aur: 08	Spi: 06	Resources {or Wealth}: 004
Init: 020		HP: 060

Powers: Flame Being: 4, Flame Project: 8, Gliding: 6, Jumping: 6

Skills: Charisma: 7, Detective (clue analysis, law, legwork, police procedure): 6, Martial Artist (assault, battery, blocking): 6, Scientist: 4

Advantages: Area Knowledge (the Divide); Expertise (bio-chemistry); Local Hero; Silent Assistant (Cowgirl); Stabilization

Connections: China Doll (high), Double Cross (high), Everyman (low), Johnny B. Goode (high), Street (high)

Drawbacks: Dark Secret (death of son), Enemy (Antagonist), Guilt (death of son), Unluck

Background:
Real name: Jack Brigham
Marital status: Presumed Single
Known relatives: Francis (son, deceased)
Group affiliation: sometime partner of Johnny B. Goode, sometime ally of Double Cross
Base Of Operations: Q-Zone
Height: 6'1" Weight: 220 lbs.
Eyes: Brown Hair: Black

Powers and Abilities:
Jack Flash possesses the ability to generate an aura of flames around his body and projectself-generated flames at will. His mutation also allows him to leap to great heights, although a harmless fiery after image follows him on his jumps. While in the air he can also manipulate heat to effect air currents and allow himself to glide even farther than a jump would normally take him.

Thanks to training from his mentor Double Cross, Jack Flash possesses above average fighting skills as well as detecting skills.

In his past life, Jack was a grad student in chemical engineering and he still can call on his past training when needed.

History:
Born and raised in old Detroit, Jack Brigham was working as a lab assistant in a bio-chemistry lab in the pre-collapse city. His boss, an old grade school friend named Anthony Goen, worked on metahuman enhancement technologies. **CLIPPED**

Jack found himself the subject of a project to activate his latent metagene. The process worked and Jack erupted in an inferno which left the facilities destroyed and third degree burns on his still unstable body. Jack fell in to a coma and remained in a hospital as a John Doe for months.

Upon awakening he found Detroit in ruins and the first days of Mr. Mayor’s reign as the leader of the newly renamed Divide underway. His family gone, his villainous boss gone, and nothing left to him but his new powers, Jack vowed to become the defender of the southern-most districts of the Divide. Although initially hated for the destruction he caused in the city, he soon came to become better respected during a fight with a mind-controlled Everyman. He would protect the district for over half a decade while learning to control his powers at the side of his mentor, aging villain turned metahero Double Cross.

Unfortunately his neighborhood would soon fall under the sway of the Great Question, a gang of metahuman thugs lead by the Antagonist. With the district renamed the Q-Zone, Jack found himself embattled against thugs and metahuman members of the Great Question. He could do little to stop the Antagonist’s rise to power and eventual takeover of the entire Divide.

Now loved by the people but under warrant of death by the Divide’s goverment, Jack Flash continues to fight the good fight with only his friend and protege Johnny B. Goode and his ally, confidant, and lover China Doll at his side. But thanks to inside information

Personality:
Jack Flash is a hard man, careful to show his emotions. But deep down he is still the loving father of his youth. But now his focus has moved to the residents of the Q-Zone. He will do anything to protect “his people” from harm, and will beat himself up over every failure to do so. Jack refuses to back out of a conflict, and he will always fight until he can fight no more, even if it means a brutal beating. Jack’s love life reflects his loss of his son as well, as he will not let himself fall too hard or too far for any woman.

Death Ray

2007-07-09T17:46:00.000-05:00

Death Ray

Dex: 07	Str: 05	Bod: 08	Motivation: Anti-Hero Responsibility of Power
Int: 05	Wil: 06	Min: 08	Occupation: Vigilante
Inf: 04	Aur: 05	Spi: 06	Resources {or Wealth}: 006
Init: 020		HP: 075

Powers: Invulnerability: 16, Mind Over Matter: 6, Regeneration: 6

Bonuses and Limitations: Regeneration only affects Body

Skills: Acrobatics: 9, Martial Artist: 7, Medicine (first aid): 7, Military Science (danger recognition, demolition, tracking): 5, Weaponry (exotic): 7

Bonuses and Limitations: none

Advantages: Ambidextrous; Area Knowledge (The Divide); Iron Nerves; Lightning Reflexes; Local Hero; Stabilization

Connections: Bob Cat (high), Gena Rator (high), Street (high)

Drawbacks: Enemy (187), Enemy (Double Cross), Enemy (Mr. Mayor), MIA to suicidal actions in battle, MIH of 187, Serious Physical Restriction (mute), Socially Inept

Equipment: Ray Gun [Body: 6, EV: 6, Range: 6, Regeneration: 4, R#5] Regeneration only works on on Ray Gun, and is un-affected by the R#

Background:
Real name: Ray Paris
Marital status: Presumed Single
Known relatives: none
Group affiliation: sometimes partner of Bob Cat, ally of Gena Rator
Base Of Operations: Steelworks district of The Divide
Height: 6' Weight: 205 lbs.
Eyes: Brown Hair: Black (shaved)

Powers and Abilities:
Death Ray literally possesses the ability to defy death. Ray regularly puts himself in situations that would kill a normal man, only to quickly heal from his injuries in a matter of a few hours. Unfortunately, he can still feel the pain, but over the years his pain tolerance has grown to allow him to operate even under intense injury.

Ray is a trained fighter and often enters in to physical combat with much more powerful foes, unafraid of what damage they might do to him. In addition to his hand to hand combat skills, Ray carries a science fiction-esque blaster weapon he calls his “Ray Gun”. Although unreliable, the ray gun allows him to blast more powerful foes easily from a distance.

History:
Little is known about the history of Ray Paris before the coming of the Divide. Unconfirmed reports of training in Japan exist, but none that have been proven true. All that is know for certain is that Ray came to the Divide shortly after the signing of the closure order by the United States government. He took the name Death Ray and despite his inability to speak quickly became one of the citizenship’s premiere defenders against the tyranny of Mr. Mayor.

His new found popularity brought him in to conflict with the city’s last surviving member from its days as Detroit, the aging villain turned hero Double Cross. The ensuing feud would destroy massive amounts of the city and cost both men much of their standing in the community. Mr. Mayor used the anarchy to cement even greater levels of power and incarcerate Death Ray in an experimental metahuman holding facility.

In the facility he met the metahuman bounty hunter 187. The two men, along with the bioenergy power Gena Rator, helped each other to escape, only to have their partnership quickly turn sour on the streets of the Divide.

Gena Rator quickly introduced Death Ray to his newest partner, Bob Cat, and the two men quickly have become celebrated defenders of the oppressed citizens of the Steelworks district of the Divide.

Personality:
Death Ray gives a whole new meaning to the word grim. He seems completely devoid of humor at all times and remains focused on his unending goal to lead the people of the Steelworks and the Divide in opposition to any of the other would-be rulers of the city. He knows he was given his powers for a reason. He revels in any chance to use them for the greater good, even to the point of putting himself in harmful situations he could avoid.

Mouthpiece

2007-07-05T18:33:00.000-05:00

Mouthpiece

Dex: 05	Str: 03	Bod: 05	Motivation: Power Lust
Int: 07	Wil: 04	Min: 05	Occupation: Spokesperson, Gang Representative
Inf: 07	Aur: 07	Spi: 05	Resources {or Wealth}: 008
Init: 018		HP: 030

Powers: Hypnosis: 6, Sonar: 8, Sonic Beam: 9, Sound Nullify: 6

Bonuses and Limitations: Sonic Beam can also be used as a Diminishing Area Effect; When used as an Area Effect, Sonic Beam works at -4 APs; victim must be able to hear Mouthpiece for Hypnosis to work

Skills: Charisma: 14, Detective (law, legwork): 6

Bonuses and Limitations: Charisma works as a Power, and can be effected by other powers (such as Neutralize or Scramble) that can effect other Powers

Advantages: Area Knowledge (Q-Zone); Gift of Gab; Leadership; Omni-Connection; Rich Friends; Scholar (business, oil industry)

Connections: The Great Question (high), Antagonist (high), Crime (low), Mr. Mayor’s Cabinet (low), OPEC (low), Street (high)

Drawbacks: Debt (to Antagonist); Enemy (Jack Flash); Forced Exile (Egypt); MIF of The Everyman; Minor Psychological Instability

Background:

Real name: Fareed Mahfour
Marital status: Legally seperated
Known relatives: Rachel (wife, seperated), 2 unnamed sons
Group affiliation: The Great Question
Base Of Operations: The Q-Zone district of The Divide
Height: 5'11" Weight: 175 lbs.
Eyes: Brown Hair: Black

Powers and Abilities:
Mouthpiece can project sonic waves to a variety of effects from an implant located in the vertebrae at the back of his neck. He can use these to a variety of effects, including Sonar, a beam of sonic force, and voice modulation to create a hypnotic effect. Additionally, Mouthpiece possesses a metahuman knack for talking, and he has often used this power to convince people to see things his way. This “super-charisma” is his key usefulness to The Great Question.

History:
Born Fareed Mahfour in Cairo, Egypt, Mouthpiece was the heir to a vast fortune in oil. His father died under mysterious circumstances on the family yacht during an excursion with the then 12 year old Fareed. Though the death was suspicious, Fareed was never charged. Using his innate metahuman powers, he instead found himself running his father’s company within two years.

He continued his education during his early days as CEO and graduated with a Masters in Business by age twenty-one. He quickly became known in the business world for his shrewd and often cruel tactics, and he expanded the family fortune several times over.

At twenty-two he married Rachel Tanner, an English woman living in Egypt. She quickly bore Fareed two sons while Fareed continued to use his powers to expand his empire. But Rachel had her own plans for the future of the company, and none of them included her husband. Shortly after, Fareed&8217;s thirtieth birthday, her plan went in to action, as she hired a hitman to murder the Chief Operating Officer of the company and frame Fareed for the murder.

With every sign pointed to him, Fareed could not bribe his way out of a trial. He quickly found himself thrown in to jail and much of his personal fortune torn away from him by Rachel when she seperated from him. Using his last ten million, he bribed a judge to commute his sentence to time served and quickly fled the country to avoid his wife’s hit squads. Rachel would quickly align herself with the coup presented by Ozymandias and take control of Egypt south of the Valley of the Kings, renaming the country the Thirteenth Dynasty.

Still fearing for his life, Fareed traveled to eastern Europe, where he paid doctors to implant an experimental device on his vertebrae that granted him sonic powers. With his wife’s hitmen still on his trail, he moved to The Divide. The city-state was the only power in the world to have recognized the Dynasty as a country. The non-aggression treaty between the two rogue states forced Rachel to call off her agents and left Mouthpiece free to act within the limited radius of The Divide.

Seeing his chance for power limited within Mr. Mayor’s Cabinet, Mouthpiece quickly aligned himself with the metahuman gang known as The Great Question and their leader, the enigmatic Antagonist. His abilities and natural drive for power quickly brought him to the fore front of the group, and he now serves as their spokesperson, negotiator, and regular public face.

Personality:
Mouthpiece is soft-spoken in private, but in public quickly becomes a master orater. He can convince anyone of just about anything and, given time, has been known to make friends of hated enemies. Mouthpiece yearns for unlimited power, but is willing to wait for it, even as Antagonist controls the whole of Divide. His patience allows him to bide his time as he waits for the right time to pull a coup on Antagonist and Conundrum and become the true force behind the Great Question and supreme ruler of The Divide.

Able

2007-07-02T16:04:00.000-05:00

Able

Dex: 09	Str: 04	Bod: 06	Motivation: Anti-Hero Power Lust
Int: 08	Wil: 07	Min: 07	Occupation: Adventurer
Inf: 05	Aur: 07	Spi: 06	Resources {or Wealth}: 004
Init: 024		HP: 040

Powers: Adaptation: 22

Bonuses and Limitations: At the start of Mean Streets, Adaptation is used for Detect: 8 (Bonus: Discerning), Flame Being: 6, Flame Control: 8

Skills: Acrobatics (climbing, dodge): 7, Artist (painter): 5, Charisma (interrogation): 7, Detective (clue analysis, law, legwork): 6, Martial Artist: 7, Thief: 7

Bonuses and Limitations: none

Advantages: Ambidextrous, Connoisseur, Double Jointed, Iron Nerves, Read/Write/Speak French

Connections: None

Drawbacks: MIH to all things from United States, Minor Rage, Socially Inept

Background:
Real name: unrevealed
Marital status: Presumed Single
Known relatives: None
Group affiliation: None
Base Of Operations: The Divide
Height: 5'11" Weight: 185 lbs.
Eyes: Blue Hair: Brown

Powers and Abilities:
Able possesses the ability to mimic any other metahuman’s abilities he sees in use. He particularly likes to change powers on the fly during a battle between multiple metahumans, switching between various enemy’s abilities to keep them off guard. He also enjoys getting in to close quarters combat with his opponents where he often will surprise them with his unarmed combat prowess.

Though he can also adapt Skills, Able rarely does unless he needs talent with Vehicles or Weaponry. He sees using other’s skills as “cheating” his own ability.

History:
Almost nothing is known about the history of the man called Able before his arrival in The Divide off a bus from Canada. He appears to be about twenty-five but outside his status as a Canadian citizen, no information on his origin or history before coming to the No Man’s Land has yet been revealed.

Able has come to The Divide despite his dislike of America in search of someone or something, but beyond that his motives remain unclear. He seems to have a strong hatred for most of the “heroic” activities of the local metahuman populace, and seems more in tune with the “order” as it stands beneath The Cabinet.

Upon his arrival off a bus from Quebec, Able quickly began his reconnaissance of the city by following Great Question member Mouthpiece.

Personality:
Able is anything but a friendly sort. He seems naturally belligerent towards literally everyone he has met since arriving in The Divide. He makes no efforts to be socially accepted and outside a love for his Canadian home, does not seem to care about anything but his own quest for power. His motivations still somewhat unclear, Able seems fine with letting the ongoing battles between metahumans continue around him while he continues his mysterious search.

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