Patrimony Comics

Bloodstained Beast

2011-10-24T22:49:00.000-07:00

A child's scream is what finally stopped it. Sent it crawling back into me wounded but very much alive. And it was only then that I knew the true danger of the beast within. Everyone from Teach to Tai warned me of the danger, but I had never listened.

The night had started off well enough. Lunch with the Kevins and Mom as we partied in the Gquen and Teach's honor. Then a movie with Hank, he solved the mystery before I did. Finally dinner at The Victorious Hero where Mom thrilled Hank with tales of The Victor and her. It was at his memorial that things went bad.

Hank had fallen asleep in my arms, so I decided to cut across the park to get him to bed as soon as possible. I noticed something was off as I got nearer to the memorial. Normally I would have been able to see the lights surrounding The Victor's Memorial, but it was darker than ever. Getting closer I found a group of ten men drinking and disfiguring the statue. All but one of the surrounding lights had been broken. My blood started to boil.

I laid Hank down on a bench and called out to them demanding to know what they were doing. Their leader stepped forward and made a few offensive comments about The Victor, then about me. I encouraged him to leave before something happened that they would regret. He threatened Hank and told me to run away. I could feel my whole body turning hot.

The leader started towards me and his men began to follow. I grabbed one of their discarded beer bottles and eased my way towards my target. The leader jokingly told me that the bottle was useless against them. I agreed with him, took a quick look at my surroundings, closed my eyes, and smashed the last light.

As expected, the flash of destroying the bulb left the gang members temporarily blinded; I could hear them arguing and trying to find their way in the darkness. I slowly opened my eyes letting them adjust to the blackness around me. Finding my first opponent I ran up to and quickly took him out with two moves. Well not too quickly I allowed him to cry out before I knocked him out. It had the desired effect of making the rest of his friends suddenly tense.

As they realized that they weren't against someone normal, I let out a cackle and sprinted around the group. As they headed to where I had been seconds before I grabbed the one farthest from the crowd and repeated what I had done to his friend, again letting him scream in pain before letting darkness take him.

Now as they stood confused, I began to taunt them with facts I had gleamed from first seeing them. Mom still sick, Joe? You know Kate hates you talking to other women, Mac. How far into debt are you, Steve?

Finally it was time to start having fun; I pulled out my knife and ran through the crowd, laughing like a mad man. Slashing at their clothes, I let them know I could've easily done the same to them. It also covered me stealing their guns and/or just the clips. Holding my knife in my teeth, I broke the guns down, emptied the clips, and scattered the bullets as I ran back into the darkness. I had been lucky so far that they hadn't remembered they were armed, but I wasn't going to press it by being stupid. Taking a quick stock of the firearms, I soon realized that one of the fools had drawn their gun. Even better.

Settling into a dark corner, I returned my knife to my pocket and took a deep breath and started to throw my voice. Here I am. As expected, my new ally quickly shot where at he thought I was and hit one of his friends. Nice shooting, Tex. Again he fired and hit another one of the gang members. Speaking up from my hiding spot I asked him why he would fall for the same trick twice. Just as I knew he would, the gunman fired away from where I was and into yet another of his friends. Using the final gunfire to locate him, I stalked up and knocked him out, this time making sure he didn't make a sound. Six down, four to go. It was time to teach these fools how badly they had screwed up.

I searched the night for my next opponent. Finally finding one, I slowly circled around him. I sprinted when he could see me and barely moved when he couldn't. I would give a mocking howl whenever I was behind him and flashed him a slasher smile as I ran by. As soon as I thought he had enough, I charged at him laughing. Then just when he was about to react, I leapt over him, and vanished into the treetops. I watched him call out to his friends as I climbed down the back of a nearby tree. Just as I planned. Slowly pulling out my knife, I eased up behind him and slashed at his arm, drawing blood causing the fool to cry out in pain. Grabbing his throat, I choked the sound out of him, but eased my grip enough to keep him awake. I slowly started to trace my knife against his face, never drawing blood, but making it clear that I could at any moment. I told him to mind his manners, to respect those who came before, and to never threaten another man's child. Then I spun and throw him into a tree, knocking him out.

Wiping the blood off on my clothes, I put my knife away, quickly climbed a tree, and watched as the finally three arrived. Taking a deep breath, I throw my voice around them. Run and hide like good little prey. Run and hide. Then I laughed. They scattered in fear. Good.

Running from tree branch to tree branch, I took off my belt and looped it. Spotting the next rabbit, I leapt to the tree above him and lowered the makeshift noose. Snagging the terrified animal I made sure he could breath, and just that, and tied off the other end to the branch I was on. Landing in front of him, I easily dodged his panicked swings and delivered two quick jabs to his kidneys. He tried to cry out in pain, but the noose turned it into a silent whiz. Snapping out my knife, I let what little light there was reflect off it. Again I told him to mind his manners, respect those who came before, and never threaten a child. Then I went behind him and made two long, but shallow, cuts into his back, and tightened the noose until he passed out. Then I loosened the noose and let him hit the ground with a small groan. Unlooping my belt I put it back on and disappeared back into the trees.

I began to circle around seeking the final two, when I realized how much I had overreacted. They had disrespected The Victor and threated my son, but they didn’t need to be hunted down and treated like animals. I needed to get them medical attention before someone was permanently hurt or worse. I reached for my phone when the moonlight touched my hands. Blood from the last gang member had covered my hands. Breathing deep, I could smell the iron. It was intoxicating. No. No, it was clarifying. It helped us decide what was needed to be done.

Putting away my phone, he began to hunt our next target. I should have known that this would happen, my darker half is better at the hunt than me and he enjoys it more than I do. As we leapt from tree to tree circling the area, I marveled at the ease he found the next one. As we dropped out of the tree on to our next opponent, he pulled out our knife and stuck it into the gang member’s left shoulder blade. Then he spun the terrified man, no rabbit, terrified rabbit around and delivered punch after punch making sure to cause the most damage but keeping the man, creature, creature from falling unconscious. Beaten and bloody, we dragged our prey to his feet and twisting his arm made him cry out in pain. Then we called out to his boss, that if he knew what was good for him, he would show himself. He did, but he wasn’t alone, he had my son with him.

Hank was scared, shaking, crying for me. I felt my grip tighten on my hostage, prey, my hostage. He was human and I’m going to treat him as one. So be it, fool. I tried to tell the leader to let him go, but a small growl came out instead. My darker half pulled our hostage closer to his and lowered our knife to his throat. I had never killed anyone, but there was times where I had come close. Gunner, Emerald Elf, and some of the men that I faced when training with Tai could have died by my hand, but my promise to The Victor had stopped me each time; but then, with the blade pressed so close to the man’s throat it was clear that my darker half wanted to break that promise, it only so that he could feel the thrill of the kill. I willed us to wait, to see if the there was another way. My darkness eased the knife, if only for a second.

The gang leader laughed said and said we had a standoff. That even thou I was fast and good, having taken out nine men I must be very good, that I couldn’t get to him before he hurt my son. And because I was so good, he couldn’t get to his man before I gave him a new mouth. I didn’t correct him that it wasn’t me but my darkness holding the blade. A quick look at the man told me everything I need to know. The terror of me taking out the rest of his men was clear on his face. He could snap at any moment. I had to end this quickly but carefully. When I opened my mouth to offer a trade, the beast inside instead told the man to do what he will with the boy, he was of no use to him. Maybe not to you, but he’s my son and I can’t let him die. Quiet you. I sudden felt very light and removed from my body, like something in a dream.

The leader laughed again and told me he wouldn’t fall for a bluff. He didn’t know it wasn’t a bluff. The beast that had been me cackled and threw our hostage straight towards the leader. Either the cackle or sight of his bloody man coming at him, or maybe both, caused the leader to shove Hank to the side as he leapt out of the way. The beast used this split second to knock out our former hostage and to jump onto the now gangless leader. I almost didn’t fell the punches it delivered to the man over and over. I almost didn’t hear the man beg for it, for me, to stop, that he would leave and never tell anyone what happened, if only I would let him go. But it kept hitting even after the man stopped moving and would have killed him if it wasn’t for Hank starting to cry.

Hank was lying on the ground; bruises from hitting the ground had already started to form. I wanted to comfort him, but I couldn’t move the beast wouldn’t let me; instead it moved to Hank and started to yell at him. It yelled about how he had held it back; about how, because of a promise made by a weak willed man it had now been saddled with a child barely out of his teens. I shouted for Hank to not listen to it, to run and hide from the beast in front of him. But I knew it was in vain, the beast was in control and it wasn’t listening. It continued with it’s tirade, about how The Victor had thrown his life away on a nobody, an ungrateful kid gifted with greatness but burdened with a conscience, someone supposedly destined for some importance but would never accomplish it because of feelings of inadequateness. But all that will change with Hank’s death. His death would free it of the weak morality that had chained it for so long.

Snapping out the knife, it let the moonlight shine across. Instead of feeling the normal thrill at the sight, my heart began to pump faster with horror. My son was about to die and was going to be by my hand. I forced everything I had to stop it, to stop me. I focused on the positive that the beast had overlooked. Tai had given me Hank because, of everyone in the world, she trusted me the most. The Victor died saving the son of his partner, and if the rumors were believed, the only woman he had ever loved. While he had been there dying, The Victor had told me to do something with my life. And I had, in the last year alone I had helped a couple of runaways escape their abusive owners, a psychic start a new life, and found a kidnapped child.

Then I started to remember Teach and Gquen, two people that the beast hadn’t mentioned. Gquen had been my first love and probably the only person who always knew just exactly what I had been thinking before I even thought it. The beast hadn’t said anything because it had also loved her, even in my darkest moments I had never acted against my beautiful queen. She had encouraged my darkness, no not encouraged, guided it, directed it, towards helping people and having a little fun at the same time. I might not have been able to prevent her death, but from what I had heard her murderer still jumped at the mention of my name because of the beating I had given him.

Teach. I knew why the beast hadn’t mentioned him, it had been afraid of him. Feared the very thought him because while Gquen had tried to get me to use my darkness, Teach had taught me that I didn’t need it to help others. Use your mind before your fist. Plans could beat an army if you do it right. Violence isn’t always the answer. He would always say this while dodging my attacks and using my on force against me. In fact in the whole five years I knew him, he never threw one punch or kick either during one of my aikido lessons or when we argued about how I was living my life. Turns out a kindergarten teacher with a hobby in criminology isn’t someone prone to violence.

As the memories of Gquen and Teach ran through my head, I could feel the beast’s hold on me weaken, but I knew the fight wasn’t over. As I gained more of solidness I could feel it fighting back all the bad memories that haunt my dreams even now. Gunner calmly leveling the shotgun at Gquen, ending her life even as she fights him. Him turning it on me, only for The Victor to jump in front of the blast screaming my name. The fear that ran through me while I was getting Hank out of Israel. I fought back with the memories of Hank meeting his grandmother. Of Gquen, my queen, calling me her avian knight with her dying breath. The Victor smiling as he died, telling me he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The beast within me took this moment to lunge for Hank, knowing that his death would break me, ending the fight forever in his favor. But Hank screamed and that was all I need to break the last of the beast’s hold. I spun and threw the knife into a nearby tree, imbedding it into the trunk. I turned to see if Hank was okay only to find him unconscious, the stress of the last five minutes proving too much for him.

Picking him up, I cradled him in one arm, while I called 911. I told them there had been a gang fight near The Victor memorial. The operator told me someone would there in minutes; hanging up my cell I could already hear the sirens. I wasn’t surprised by that, even if The Victor hadn’t been the biggest supporter of police, while alive he had helped raise a couple million dollars a year, or left some of his equipment for them use, he had died protecting a cop and her son and that’s not something easily forgotten.

I shifted Hank in my arms and kicked myself into a run heading back to The Victorious Hero. The police would have questions I didn’t want to answer and I needed to found out if Hank was okay. Reaching the restaurant I caught Connor just before he closed up. Not even thinking twice he let us in and went into the back to get his first aid kit. Returning he had me take off my shirt and started to check for wounds. He only found a few busted knuckles the blood rest of the blood had been from my victims.

As I had waited, I had looked at a glass case of one The Victor’s uniforms and caught my reflection. My shirt and fist were soaked in blood and my long hair had been undone giving me a somewhat wild. But what send a small shiver down my spine was the half grin on my face and the darkness whispering in my ear that it will be back and next time it plans to stay around for a while.

A few days later I checked to see what had happened to the gang members. Luckily all had survived, but some, the ones that had been shot, had lost the use of one limb of another. Others, the ones I had knocked out quickly were fine, but had taken the blame for fight. The man I thrown into a tree now walked with a limp and the man I had sliced the back of was on his stomach healing and refusing to speak. The gang leader was still getting surgery for his face and he starts screaming whenever someone turns off the lights at night.

Hank? Hank has barely slept since his “nightmare” and is still afraid the Smiling Man is going to get him. I don’t have the heart to tell him the truth. I may never tell him the truth of what happened that night.

And me? As odd as it sounds, I have had an epiphany about my life. Because of Stile’s Decree, there haven’t been any heroes, but I’m going to change that. I’ve been denying it for too long that I can do more than I have, and because of that the darkness in me has grown, feeding on my fears and doubts. I’m going to become a nonviolent hero that hopefully as will bring light back to the city and destroy the beast inside me; that bloodstained beast that is the true me.

Will I be this generation’s The Victor or its Archie Mage? Maybe I’ll barely be remembered at all like the Bailiff or the Screaming Scud. So I ask you is this an origin story or a horror story? Or is it both? Maybe only time will tell.

The Ten Signs of His Love

2011-02-13T12:21:00.000-08:00

The first of the Dancing With Danger series. It chronclies how The Victor and Officier Huntre went from friends to a couple.

Alicia Huntre never took her hand off her lips as she watched her fellow officers load police vans with Red Rogue and her lackeys. The Thorny Thief had kidnapped the officer but Alicia had gotten herself free and turned the table on the supervillain. But Alicia wasn’t thinking of Red Rogue or her goons; she was trying to figure out how she hadn’t known that her best friend was in love with her. The more Alicia thought about it, the more she realized the clues had been there, all she had had to do was look.

10. The kiss had been her first clue, actually it was the last clue, it just was the hardest for her to ignore. When he had seen her he just ran over and pulled her into a deep embrace.

09. He had run. The brave, unwavering Victor had ran. When they had come up for air, his face had filled with shame and fear. He had apologized for his action and asked her to forget that it had happen. Then, not waiting for an answer, he had left to find Red Rogue and the rest of her thugs. In the ten years that she had known him, The Victor had never left a room without making sure everything and everyone was all right, but this time he had just left.

08. He had yelled. He never yelled. Sometimes he would have to raise his voice to make sure everyone heard him, but he had never shouted. But when she had found him had had one of Red Rogue’s minions by the collar and was screaming into the henchman’s face demanding to know where she was being held.

07. He had said her name. In all the time they had known each other, he had never said her first name. He always called her Officer Huntre or just Huntre. When he teased her he would call her Valkyrie or Val, but he never used her first name. But when he had demanded to know where she was, he had called her Alicia, not Officer Huntre.

06. He let her touch him. The Victor had always been a very out going person. A hand on a shoulder giving support, a thumb wiping away a tear, a hug if needed, but he would always be the one to make first contact. If someone looked like they were going to touch him, he would beat them to it. It was one of the reasons why he was called the Untouchable Man. But not with her, if she thought he was goofing off or needed a good pounding she would hit him or give him a shove and he would let her. She had seen him dodge a fury of punches; he could easily have evaded her, but never did.

05. He made time for her. Alicia didn’t know who was under the mask, but she knows he had to be a very busy man. Between patrolling the city and his charity work, he had to have only enough time for maybe a day job and getting some sleep. But he never complained if she needed help on a case or to vent about her life. He would just lean back and let her cut loose. Then he would give whatever advice he could think of and wave off any thanks before getting back to work.

04. He listened to her. Kind of hard to believe with The Victor, he was renown for his stubbornness. But if she thought he was being naïve or just refusing to see all the facts, she would call him on it. He would ask her why she believed that and nod his head to any problems she might have. Even if he didn’t change his plans or agree with her, he would admit she had a point and let others know of her concerns.

03. He couldn’t stand to see her upset. If she was sick or in a bad mood, he would crack a joke, make a funny face, talk in a goofy voice, honk her nose, or throw a few silly moves in when solving the problem at hand. If all else failed, he would use his dreaded one finger tickle. She didn’t know how he did it but it worked. One minute she would be yelling and the next she would be overcome by a fit of giggles.

02. He smiled when he saw her. Sure, as The Victor he always was grinning, but after getting to know him, she could tell when he was forcing one because it was expected and when he was genuinely happy. Whenever she walked into the room his eyes would light up and his lips would curve up even more.

01. He looked after her. Shortly after they started to work together, he had bugged her to try to have a social life; he even gave her tickets to a show she had wanted to see. She had taken his advice and asked out someone she knew from her neighborhood. The outing had turned sour when on the way home when her date had tried to force a kiss. Before she could react, The Victor had pulled him off her and sent him into the nearest wall. The Victor apologized, saying he only wanted to make sure she was relaxing but had overreacted. He then walked her home and asked her to try again.

That’s it. When The Victor had asked her to try again, she had posed the question of why it was so important to him. He had just looked down and said that at least one of them should be happy then had left before she could respond. Lowering her hand, Alicia decided ten years was a long enough wait. Smiling brightly she raced into the night after a friend who is so much more than that to her.

I Was There

2011-01-22T12:02:00.000-08:00

The Victor breathed slowly as he tried to gather his thoughts. Even though he was an optimistic man, he was about to write a very cynical letter. He wanted to believe that he was going to live to a ripe old age with the red head that lay in his bed, but a hero's job was risky at the best of times and he felt there was trouble in the wings. He had to leave something for Virgil, Alicia's son, in case he wasn't around to give advice.

Finally with his thoughts collected, he began to write:

If you are reading this then the worst has happened.
It doesn't matter how I died, only that I am no longer there to give advice and to pull your ass from the fire.
But know this, I was there in the beginning when you started down this road.
I was there when you started to take responsibility for your actions.
I was there when you started to use your head more and your fists less.
I was there when you started to stand up for others less fortunate.
I was there when you started to give your time to others instead of taking up theirs.
I was there when you knowingly or not started to become a man and less of a boy.
I may not be here now, but I was there when you needed me.
You need only to think of the time we spent together working on my bike or talking,
to know that even though I'm not here anymore in body I will always be there in your memories and in your heart.

Folding up the letter The Victor put it into his war chest and headed back to bed. Dark days may be ahead, but The Victor knew that no matter what his son, Virgil, would continue the fight. And with that thought in mind he could sleep peacefully not knowing what tomorrow might bring.

Midnight Heroes, Late Night Partiers

2010-12-30T08:12:00.000-08:00

This follows the events of The Victor's first teamup with Quiver as told by celebrity columnist Holly Jayne. Again like Thanksgiving with the Patrol and Hope in the Shadows, this is a time when heroes were outlaws, but as this story shows the public loves their outlaws. If anyone is interested in the events that preceded this story, I'll most likely recount the teamup next year's New Year's Eve. Now Miss Jayne's account as seen in the Daily Review, January 1st 1988.

Midnight Heroes, Late Night Partiers

By Holly R. Jayne

Following the exciting events of The Victor's first thrilling team-up with that Captivating Crimefighter, that Bold Brunette, that Amazing Archer, Quiver, The Arrow Queen, against the Neon Knights*, the two heroes were invited by Dick Clark to the Rocking Eve Party. While The Victor turned down all refreshments, save milk and what looked to be vodka, but turned out to be water, the Daring Damsel, Quiver, sampled anything and everything and wowed the partygoers with her extensive knowledge of beverages. The duo danced most of the night away with many of high-profile guests. Again this showed a difference in the pair as The Victor was more stiff and formal with his dancing, even as that Perky Partier, Quiver threw caution to the wind with daring displays of acrobatic skill.

But the biggest surprise of the even came from no other than from The Victor himself. Thou the events that led up to it are unknown to this reporter, The Victor found himself on stage with the crowd cheering for a performance. The hero repeatedly tried to talk them out it until one of the celebrities offered to pay any amount to the charity of The Victor’s chose. After a check for a quarter million was written for the Police Fund, the hero finally relented and stepped up the mike. What followed can not, by any stretch of the imagination, be called singing. The Victor almost seemed to be in pain as he screeched thru whatever the song was. That’s right people; The Flawless Fighter has an imperfection, complete and total lack of music talent. May he never have to use it; if he does the police will be after him for more than vigilantism, but assault with a deadly weapon.

*My overage of the daring encounter can be found in the Daily Review’s sister paper The Daily Reporter.

Dear Santa

2010-12-23T09:07:00.000-08:00

Here's another Victor Holiday Special. This one is told by an eight year old so the spelling and grammar mistakes are on purpose. At least that's the story I'm sticking with.

Dear Santa,

It's Marty again. Thank you for all the gifts you gave every one here. Penny liked her doll and Bryan liked his train set and I liked my bike. But that's not what I'm writing you about. I saw your bodyguard last night. Everyone at the house was asleep, probably dreaming of what they were going to get Christmas morning. Well, everyone but me. Marty snores in his sleep. When he finally rolled over and I was about to get some doze off when I heard a crash. Running downstairs I found a car in the living room. The hole that the snow was blowing in from had to be the way it got in. Two crooks, one really fat and the other really skinny, climbed out and started to argue with each other. After a minute, I was able to figure out that the fatty's name was Travis and his partner's name was Lee. They were arguing over whose idea it was to rob an orphanage on Christmas Eve and if they had lost whoever was chasing them or not. I started to wonder who they were talking about when we got our answers. The chimney exploded with ash making Travis, Lee, and me cough. After the cloud cleared I saw a man seven feet tall wearing a red costume and mask. He throw light from his hands that blinded every body. When I stop seeing stars I saw him tieing up the bad guys. After tossing them into the backseat he pushed the car out of the house. Giving me a friendly wink, he started to wave his hands around the hole making it fill up with some kind of mushy stuff. Turning to me he asked my name as he went around the room and started fixing the decarations and setting the tree back up. The car had made a mess of the place. I told him my name and asked who he was. Checking the gifts to see if they were okay he told me he was the Victor and tonight he was your little helper. Wishing me a good night he went out the door and let out a loud whistle. I ran to the window just in time to see a bright red motercyle pull up out of nowhere with no one driving it. Somehow hooking the car to it he jumped on the hood and whistled. As he rode off I heard him exclaim with a laugh, “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night.” I don’t know when I fell a sleep but Miss Casey woke me up in the morning. Everything was just like it was last night but there was a bike beside the tree with a note for me. The bad guys had ran over mine and the Victor had replaced it for you. So next year I don’t want anything just send the Victor again.

Marty

Thanksgiving with the Patrol

2010-11-25T18:56:00.000-08:00

This story takes place before the events of the on going story. Masked heroes were still wanted by the law and The Victor is still alive and well, but dealing with his first supercriminal The Dungeon Master.

Officer Alicia Huntre presented herself at the front desk of the Royal Hotel at six o’clock sharp Thanksgiving night. She wore a simple blue dress and had her chestnut hair up in a bun. The Victor had told her that it was a causal get-together and that she didn’t need to worry about how she looked, but Alicia had felt that if she was going to dine with the New York Patrol she should dress nice.

She hadn’t known how to react when The Victor had given her the invite. On one hand she should have tipped off her captain to the gathering of a know vigilante group, on the other hand she had been working with The Victor and his allies since shortly after he had began his heroic crusade and had seen enough to know that most of their intentions were noble even if their actions were illegal. Besides she wasn’t sure which of her superiors were in Dungeon Master’s pouch and with the New York Patrol were on the top of his vanquish list, it was better to risk her career than their lives.

Feeling the concierge’s eyes studying her, her mind returned to the task at hand. Returning his gaze, Alicia found him to be a man in his fifty’s with a kind round face and light blond hair, the name tag over his left breast pocket showed that his name was Thomas. Moving around to lead the way, he apologized and explained that she was the first normal guest he had seen all day.

As Thomas talked, Alicia ticked off the guest list and noted things the man didn’t know. "First there was Mr. Victor and with that blue metallic woman (The Victor and Light N Blue) who had blown out all the lights on the top floor last year." Getting on the elevator Alicia had remember The Victor had telling her about that, between fits of laughter. Apparently Blue had been so excited about her first holiday that she had lost controlled of her powers and overcharged and exploded the bulbs. Vic had paid for the damages and had put twice that up front for this year incase something happens. The concierge continued, "Next was a woman wearing a fedora and sunglasses who asked me if I wouldn’t mind being interviewed by her reporter friend, a Miss Jayne. Mr. Victor had asked me already to inform the staff that he preferred no talked to the press, but wouldn’t fault them if they did. I, of course, turned her down." Quiver is always seeking more press Alicia mused to herself. "Even if I hadn’t, that silent man put an end to it by shepherding her into the elevator." And Omni can be a little paranoid, she added.

Getting off the elevator, Thomas led her down a long hallway of rooms, before stopping before one of them. Looking around, Alicia asked, "Did The Victor rent the whole floor for today?"

Giving her a surprised look, the concierge said, "Rent? Mister Victor owns the top floor." To prove his point he nodded towards the door in front of them, instead of a room number there was the stylized V that was The Victor's trademark.

As if on cue, the door opened and the man himself appeared. The Victor hadn't been kidding when he told Alicia that this was a causal gathering. He wore a plain white shirt and a pair of blue jeans, but the image of normalize ended with his face, he still wore his red half mask. Grinning at the two, The Victor pulled out a pair of bills from his back pocket and handed them to the concierge. Alicia noted that they were both hundreds. "Thank you Tom, I can take Officer Huntre from here."

Taking the tip, Thomas responded, "Thomas, sir."

Closing the door behind him, The Victor moved into the hall. "Thomas, of course, Excuse my informality for a moment longer. How is your daughter, Karan? Last we spoke she was still recovering from her surgery."

Thomas' faced lighted up a little. "She's back to her old self, sir. She just got the lead in her school's Nutcracker."

"Nice to hear. Your shift is almost over, why don't you leave early? I'm sure that Karan will love to see you. I'll smooth everything over with the manager."

Thomas thanked him and headed back to the elevator. After watching him get on, The Victor turned to Alicia, "I'm sorry, Officer Huntre, but this was the first time I've had to talk to Tom all day. I normally don't talk about other people's business in public. Now would you like a tour before dinner?" With at he gestured to the end of the hall.

Alicia just crossed her arms and leaned against the opposite wall. "So you own the top floor of one of the most expensive hotels in New York. Why didn't you tell me you were inviting me to your home when you invited me?"

The Victor stepped back as if she had slapped him. A look of embarrassment crossed his face as he recovered and walked towards her with his hands out an apologetic gesture. "This isn't my home, Huntre. I just thought that you might feel compelled to report to your captain if you had known that you had been invited to the New York Patrol's headquarters."

Alicia pointed to the insignia on the door behind The Victor, "So everyone has a room here?"

"Of course, to change or rest up before heading back to their lives or cases." To prove his point he gestured towards down the hall, which Alicia noticed for the first time had the insignias of each of the Patrolman.

Still angry about being deceived, but curious Alicia let The Victor lead her into his room. No, not deceived, The Victor never lies, he just told her that the New York Patrol was having a get-to-gather at the Royal Hotel and let her come to her own conclusions. Whatever anger she had however turned into awe as she looked around his room. Despite being an ordinary sized room, Vic had some managed to turn it into a gymnasium and lab, with room for someone to use either equipment without disturbing the other. Moving to the bed, Alicia found a sketch book that The Victor must have been working in before she had arrived. Picking the book up she noticed that The Victor seemed almost nervous about her having it. Must be like a journal to him, she thought to herself. Getting ready to put it back, The Victor stopped her. "You can look at it if you want."

Flipping through pages, Alicia found designs for equipment, including something called a gravity rope, drawings of his teammates, and several half finished sketches of a beautiful woman that Alicia didn't recognize. Apparently The Victor was human after all.

Before she could ask who the woman was, the lights began to flicker. Following The Victor out to the hall, Alicia found that the lights had brought both Quiver and Omnifarious out of their rooms. While Quiver seemed to be taking notes, Omni seemed to be just glaring at the two of them. Or at least Alicia thought he was glaring at them, his pitch black face mask made it hard to tell what was going on underneath. The Victor just smiled at both of them, "Everything is fine. Dinner will be served in a few minutes, so please finish up."

With that he led to Alicia to the room next door to his. The insignia was of a blue lighting bolt linking two white tesla coils. Knocking as he came in, "Blue is everything okay? The lights are flicking again." Leaving the door open, he went inside. Alicia followed and was suddenly overwhelmed by streaming lights and techno music. The room looked like an arcade, with games lining all the walls. On any space that was open between the games were posters of various sci-fi movies. At one of the games stood Light N Blue intensely playing. Alicia suppressed a grin as she noticed that even Blue was causally dressed with a pair of black jeans and a t-shirt for the movie Tron.

The Victor calmly walked over to Blue and tapped her on the shoulder. Like someone had flipped a switch, the lights turned to normal and the music stopped. After moment Light N Blue turned around and smiled at the two of them, "Greetings Red and Other Red. Is dinner ready?" Other Red, Alicia wasn't fond of the name but it was better than the original Old Red. Old, she was barely twenty-seven.

The Victor just chuckled, "Almost Blue. But I'm here because the lights were flicking again."

Blue appeared to became a little embarrassed, "Sorry, the higher levels of this game was proving difficult. Next time I'm remember to turn on the power vacuum."

Noticing the confused look on Alicia's face, Light N Blue pointed to a red box plugged in the corner. "Something Red designed to balance out my electrical field when my emotional circuits start to cause problems."

Before Alicia could ask more questions, there was a knock on the door. Blue opened it to show Quiver. The famed archer wore a brown trench coat over a purple blouse and slacks. Her eyes were covered by a large pair of sunglasses. "Dinner's ready everyone."

Leading Blue and Alicia out, The Victor turned to Quiver as he shut the door, "Is Conan here yet?"

"Not yet. Why don't you go see what's keeping him while I have a word with Officer Huntre."

Turning to Alicia to he said, "If you don't mind. I also have to see the staff about something."

Alicia just shrugged, "The duties of being a host. I can handle her."

After The Victor was gone, Quiver turned to ask Alicia something only to have her cut her off, "No comment." And pointed to the hidden mike on Quiver's trench coat. "I don't like being interviewed without my consent."

"At least we have something in common," said a grainy voice behind her. Alicia turned to see Omni. Of all the members he was the only one to be dressed in his costume. A pitch black suit and full face mask. To say that he made her uneasy would have been putting it lightly.

"I didn't want you to be here, but," gesturing towards Light N Blue and Quiver, "they thought it would be nice to see the other woman in The Victor's life in a less combative location. I know you can hold your own in a fight. That's all I need to know about you, Delilah."

Uneasy feeling a side, Alicia doesn't take being talk down to very well. Getting into Omni's face, "The name is Officer Alicia Huntre. Talk to me like that again and you'll know how well I am in a fight."

Whatever Omni would have said next, it was lost as a joyous voice boomed down the hallway, "Sorry I'm late folks, but Isaac just couldn't decide what to wear." The whole group turned to see Professor Nice walk off the elevator. With him was a tall dark man of vague origins. His voice had the desired affected as the tense evaporated. While Nice was dressed in trademark vest and khakis, his friend wore a plaid shirt and jeans.

Taking the lead, Conan led the group down the hall towards the dining room. Walking by the door, Alicia noted that insignia of the New York Patrol. Under it was the group's motto, "A hand when needed, a fist when required." The Victor had told her that he had suggested it as joke, but it had stuck. Walking into the room, she realized that this was normally the Patrol's meeting/trophy room. The wall to the right was lined with framed clippings of their various exploits. To her left was a case with what almost looked like a tool belt inside. The words First Case and Professor Mechanic's Tool belt were printed on the side, showed that it was indeed a tool belt.

"One of the few good things he's ever done and it was an accident," Alicia turned to see Light N Blue staring at the belt. Looking at Blue, she realized how human the android could be at times. Right now she seemed like a daughter dealing something she didn't want to.

Before Alicia could think of anything to say, Quiver walked over and led Blue toward her seat saying, "We all know honey, its okay. You're not an accident." Alicia normally didn't see Quiver comfort someone. She was either trying to get people to talk to the press or buy one of her products.

Omni bumped passed Alicia before turning back and giving her what she took to be a dirty look, "The kid's been through a lot. Leave her only." He moved to a darkened part of the room before she could respond.

Thinking it was best to sit down before there was any more problems, Alicia turned to see Professor Nice waiting for her. "Don't mind him. He might be rough around the edges but he means well. Vic wanted me to show you to your seat. Its right beside mine." Raising his hand to stop Alicia from responding, "And please call me Conan."

Taking her seat, Alicia started to admire the setting. The turkey took up a third of the table. Surrounding it was deviled eggs, macaroni, three different kinds of stuffing. and green beans. Even with all the food cover it, Alicia noticed that the table was a work of art. Big and round made of wood with the letters N Y P carved stylishly into the middle. It looked like someone had put a lot of time and effort into the construction of it. She wondered who it was, only for Conan to answer her unasked question. "Our Vic is a talented one." He nodded towards The Victor as he walked in and took his seat. "He spent weeks just trying to figure out what kind of wood to use." Seeing the confused look on her face, he added, "Sorry. One of the drawbacks of being an empath. Always know what someone is feeling."

Turning to greet Vic, she asked, "Did you get everything settled with the staff?"

Looking towards the darkened part of part the table, The Victor said, "I needed them sent a few more meals home with Omni." Noticing the stunned look on her face he added, "He's a skilled detective but sometime he forgets to buy food for himself. Whatever he doesn't want, he'll give to the shelter."

Obviously not wanting to talk about anymore, The Victor called out, "Quiver, why you start us off with what you're thankful for. After, of course, you turn of the mikes." The embarrassed look on Quiver's face sent a small chuckle around the table.
As everyone talked about what were grateful for, Alicia realized that The Victor was wrong earlier. This was his home. A place where he was the father figure of a weird family that did care about each other even as they fought. A family with Omni as the overly protective big brother, Quiver and Blue as the loving but very different sisters, and Conan as the middle child that helped balanced them out. New York was honored to have these protectors call it home, and she was honored to be a part of their family, if only for a little while.

Kiss My Lips

2010-06-02T11:40:00.000-07:00

Even thou they had only been dating for a month, Alicia knew she loved Vic and that he loved her. Despite being ten-years his senior, they didn’t have any problems. In fact, unless someone pointed it out she would complete forget the age gap. But if there was one thing that Alicia could have to complain about it was the way Vic kissed her. He would kiss her hair as they sat together and watched old movies, the back of her hand whenever he held it, her cheek when one of them had to leave, but he never kissed her on her lips.

When Alicia would confront Vic about it, he just shrug his shoulders and say, “I guess I haven’t earned it yet.” What did that mean? He sent her flowers everyday; her fellow officers even asked if she was starting a floral shop with the amount that covered her squad car. Everyday he would take her to lunch; never anything expensive just different from what she was used to. After work he would pick her up and lead her on a private tour of one of the various galleries and museums; always checking with her to see if it was something she would be interested in. Every night they would grab takeout and head over to one of their apartments to watch a couple of movies, swashbucklers if his, musicals or gangsters if hers. If she fell asleep before the movies were over, he would awake her with a kiss to her forehead or if he was in a humorous mood, her nose. And every third sentence he spoke seemed to be either of affection or in search of her wants and needs.

So how did he not earn a kiss? That question bugged her for days, her coworkers, cop and tight alike, even teased her about her obvious distraction. She began to doubt his affection and thought that he might have just been toying with her. But each time, Alicia would just shake her head. No, she saw the way Vic looked at her and what would Vic have to gain from such a game?

Enough was enough, Alicia decided. When Vic showed her his latest charity invention, an indoor park for kids to play in on rainy day, she confronted him again and said that if he didn’t her kiss on her lips they were over. He just nodded his head and said fine. Alicia closed her eyes as she saw Vic lean in for the kiss, but snapped them back open when he kissed her top then her bottom lips separately instead of together. Anger overtook Alicia as she grabbed her boyfriend and pulled him into a deep kiss.

As they parted, Vic mumbled something. If Alicia hadn’t been listening for a reaction, she would have missed it. “Finally” With that word everything became clear. Vic had told her many times that her boldness and independence was what he loved about her the most and would never do anything that he was sure she wanted to do herself. So while she had been waiting for Vic, Vic had been waiting for her. Proving to Alicia that love had a sense of humor, and she was willing to learn more about its hilarity with her golden boy.

The Many Origins of The Victor (What happens when the public doesn't know it)

2010-05-31T11:24:00.000-07:00

Ever since he ended the Channel 13 hostage crisis, people have be trying to guess who and what The Victor was.

At first, matching the cynicism of the time, people believed that he and the other masked vigilantes were part of a massive con, and that they could and would turn on them at any time. Only after he proved himself above the influence by literally pantsing known power broker Steven Manners, people began to believe his claim of wanting to help.

Next, people believed that only someone seeking redemption would choose to take on such thankless job. But no one could agree on the specifics. Some thought that he was a former mob enforcer who had been forced to kill someone close to him. A sibling, a parent, or maybe even a lover, the who didn't matter, just that it made him turn against his employer and make him spend the rest of his life washing away his sins. To support this origin they would point out that his blood red costume could be a self-reminder of his crimes.

Others thought that he had been a crook that survived a near death experince. Again, no one agreed on what almost killed him. Lightening, a car crash, a rivil gang member, possibly even a jilted lover; again the details weren' t important, only that it made him realize the evil of his ways and caused him to want to make up for it. In support of this origin, people called attention to The Victor's never-ending optimsim, saying only someone given a new lease on life could be that confidant that everything will turn out all right. But these theories were discarded as time passed and it became harder to see The Victor as any kind of wrongdoer, past or present.

After that, people thought that maybe he was a police officer, assistant DA, or some other juridical employee working outside the system to fix problems made impossible to solve through normal channels because of corruption and apathy. To back this origin up, its supporters would say the The Victor's familiarity with the law and how things are run point towards someone with training in the legal system. But this speculation of his origin, like the others, was rejected when people realized The Victor spends so much watching after the city that couldn't have a normal day job, no matter how flexible the hours.

That's when people finally found something that everyone agreed with, whoever The Victor was he had to be wealthy. The amount of time he spent crime fighting and equipment he used could only be done by someone with no need for a job but had the resources to meet his needs. This small triumph of everyone agreeing was broken when people went back to arguing about who and why The Victor was.

Why? That's what everyone kept coming back to. People agreed that he had and was still bettering the city, but why was he? The public turned to his personality to see if that could shed some light on the matter. His respect for but impassive attitude towards the swarms of his female fans and women in general led to the belief that he was a grieving widower. He showed no interest in women becaused he had lost his true love and didn't want to replace her even as he fights the world that had her away from. While people granted that this would explain his disinterest in women, most found it hard to see The Victor as anything but cheerful.

His cheerful attitude led to the next stab at his origin. Because he was always smiling, maybe he was enjoying this crusade of his and that was his motive in the first place. He was a bored billionaire who had taken on the task of protecting the city since the odd boardroom brawl held for him; it was just a lark for his own entertaiment. Though people agreed that he was always upbeat, he nevered treated his struggle as a game and didn't have time for those that did.

When looking at his personality just led to more things to argue about, the community decided to focus their attention on his technology. While The Victor never relied too much on his equipment, it was still was impressive. Particularly his steelk (steel like silk) armor and his gravi-rope, experts even agreed that his gear was ten years too advanced to be cutting edge. This revelation spawned the craziest theory of his origin yet, he had been sent from the future to either ensure his utopian civilization or prevent his dystopian one.

If this theory had been suggest when The Victor first appeared, everyone would have laughed it off, but after the third attack from the future and more super-science appearing everyday, it was getting harder to tell impossible from the possible. But when one thought about it, it answered a few questions. The money The Victor had without any apparent job was from the knowledge he had about this era. The Victor was optimistic because of either he knew everything would turn out all right or this time period was better than the one he was from and gave him hope. His apparent disinterest in the opposite sex could be because he has a girl waiting for him or maybe he was raised only for guarding/preventing the past and didn't know how to deal with women. This this theory wasn't discarded like the others, but it also opened the floodgates for the crazier ideas about his origin.

When the time traveler theory wasn't discredited, it became open season for any and all ideas about whom, why, or how The Victor was. Some started to think that he could be an army androids built by a brilliant but eccentric scientist; they said this would explain the gear and how he seemed to be everywhere at times. A few people agreed with the created part but said that The Victor was either rebuilt from the best that have died or grown in a lab from samples taken from the best and brightest out there. Both schools of thought pointed out The Victor's relationship to Light N. Blue as evidence. She was like a little sister to hims and he once stated that anyone who wanted to get to her had to go through him and the rest of The New York Patrol first. A surprising outburst from someone who was normally easy going, but not so amazing if he protecting a fellow artificial from harm. As crazy as those theories were, they only got crazier.

A small group went in a completely different direction and pointed out that The Victor seemed to face a lot of magical or magic inspired villains so he must be magical himself, a supernatural guardian protecting the world at large from paranormal menaces that have escaped their mystical prison. The craziest part of the theory was that he was just a kid who drank a potion whenever The Victor was needed. They claimed this explained his infinite optimism because he was too young to know the evils of the world. If this seems like the craziest theory, you only had to wait for The Victor's death for the wilder ones to come out.

The Victor died during the City Wars, taking bullets meant for someone else. His death effected everyone and everything, but one the things it didn't stop was the mad speculation about his identity. To make matters worse, rumor had it that his body had disappeared from the morgue. With his corpse supposedly gone, people first turned to a paranoid but somewhat logical conclusion. He had been a government operative whose mission had to inspire hope to the the masses and when he died they took away his body to conceal his identity. The conspiracy theorists based this off not only his training and technology but also the way the world before and after The Victor appeared. The public used to be very cynical and unwilling to believe that the world could change, but after The Victor showed up they became hopeful and some even saw a light at the end. Why the government would care about the people's attitude, varied between the theorists, some thought it was to make them spend money, others thought to stop civil unrest, and still others thought it was just for the betterment of the country. Of course there's no real way of knowing since everyone agreed that if the government tried to take credit for The Victor most people won't take them seriously saying they were just seeking recognition for the acts of a great man.

The final two theories about The Victor were the most extreme and most controversial. A small group of people believed that The Victor was either sent from above as an avenging angel or below as a vengeful demon. They alleged that only a divine force could have done all the things The Victor did. This small group also believed that when the time was right The Victor would again emerge and act as god's avenger/wrath.

Whatever The Victor's origin or motive, no one can deny the people he saved or the evil he had stopped and that the world is sadder without him. So whether he was a seeker of redemption or justice, a divine being or just a mere mortal, everyone, friend and foe, pay their respect on this day, May 1st, because he died as he lived, as a hero. And that will never be doubted.

Fourteenth Most Wanted Monday

2010-04-19T14:47:00.000-07:00

Yes, I'm still alive.

Claws: A martial art mercenary who welds sharp bladed gloves, for anyone and everyone.

Real name: Jin Kuzuri
Age: 25
Ethnic group: Japanese
Marital status: Single
Height: 6'0
Weight: 185 lbs
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Black
Known accomplices: Unknown
Abilities: Master of Bagh Nakh fighting blades and Bushido jiu jistu
Group affiliations: Unknown

Fifth Title Thursday

2010-04-07T21:50:00.000-07:00

PC's Enchanted Tales: Retelling of fairy tales with characters from the PC Universe in the reimagined roles.

Thirteenth Wordy Wednesday

2010-04-06T21:54:00.001-07:00

My version of mutants

Avatar: A human that is born with their superhuman abilities and/or powers.

Fourteenth Temporal Tuesday

2010-04-05T23:36:00.000-07:00

Okay here's another scene from the near future.

Virgil wakes up but is still groggy from the sedates. "What's going on?"
The doctor looks up from reviewing his chart, "Go back to sleep, you need rest."
Virgil tries to sit up but falls back onto the bed, "Where's my mom."
Putting the chart back, the doctor leans against the doorway, "In surgery. I'll have the nurse take you to her when they're done."

Thirteenth Most Wanted Monday

2010-04-04T22:26:00.000-07:00

Red Rouge: An aerobatic thief who specializes in medieval items, especially crimson ones, works to her own collection.

Real name: Kathy Lestrade
Age: 45
Ethnic group: Caucasian
Marital status: Single
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 130 lbs
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Red
Known accomplices: Emerald Elf
Abilities: Mistress of most medieval weapons, including the broad sword and crossbow.
Group affiliations: The Spectrum of Evil

Twelveth Most Wanted Monday

2010-04-04T22:13:00.000-07:00

Blue Barbarian: A bloodthirsty savage that rampages around causing destruction just for the fun.

Real name: Ed Jackson
Age: 35
Ethnic group: Caucasian
Marital status: Single
Height: 7'
Weight: 400 lbs
Eyes: Black
Hair: Golden Brown
Known accomplices: Emerald Elf
Abilities: Skilled with most Viking weapons, capable of lifting up to 600 lbs
Group affiliations: Spectrum of Evil

First Night on the Town part 9

2010-04-01T22:42:00.000-07:00

As I barely dodge a right clawed-fist to the face, I reassess my opinions. Talking is not working. The net is gone and if it wasn’t I don’t think it would hold them for long. I could make a run for it, but I don’t think I can outrun them. That leaves fighting. Why does it always end with violence with me?

As the Gargoyle swings their right back, this time talons locked together with their left, I bend over backwards and start throwing insults out. “Missed again. Need practice?”

Seeing my opening, I use my hands to launch myself off the roof and deliver a double kick to their chest. “Or maybe just some rest.”

As my feet strike the Gargoyle’s chest and I release a yelp of pain, I realize I may have underestimated their toughness. It feels like I just tried to kick a solid brick wall.

After flipping onto the roof entrance and crouching down with my shield raised before me, I look over at the Gargoyle hoping for a sign that I hurt them. After rubbing their chest for a minute, they let out a deep laugh, “Hey that tickled” I am sooo dead.

Okay I can’t panic. If I can face Billy with guns, then I can take down this guy. I leap off the entrance, slamming my body, shield first, into the Gargoyle. “If that tickled, this is going to have you in stitches.” Strange, I didn’t feel the impact. Maybe the shield works better than I thought.

Landing a few feet away, I watch the Gargoyle stagger around. Maybe they’ll listen now. “Please give up before someone gets hurt. The “Assassin” is in the alley below, take him and leave.” I don’t know who this person is, but I can’t help but feel like I should trust them, even if they don’t trust me. At least that’s what The Victor would have done anyway.

Fifth Tower Thursday

2010-03-31T21:51:00.000-07:00

Ithaca: Former headquarters for Non-lethal Solutions, current headquarters for the Brain Odyssey and home of Barbra Lysseus, Selma Lopez and her daughter Samantha Lopez. Easily recognized by forest on top, the Ithaca building stands thirty stories tall and is located in downtown Manhattan. Each of the first floor is for greeting visitors. The next twenty-six levels, or floors 2-27, specialize in one area of research or another. The twenty-eighth and twenty-ninth floors are Ms. Lysseus private labs and the thirtieth is the apartment that she shares with Selma and Samantha Lopez. The unofficial thirty-first floor is a wooded wild life reserve that Ms. Lyssues personally maintains and contains any and all animals native to that habitat.

Fourth Titan Thursday

2010-03-31T21:28:00.000-07:00

Omnifarious: A masked vigilante who defends people by assuming different appearances. His true identity is unknown, possibly to himself.

Alias name: Justice Barber
Age: Between 45 and 50
Ethnic group: African-American
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 210 lbs
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Black
Occupation: Crime Fighter
Abilities: Master of disguise, paramedic training, stealth, Zen Do Kai
Group affiliation: The New York Patrol (formerly)

Twelveth Wordy Wednesday

2010-03-31T09:08:00.000-07:00

Audio: A superhuman that has some power dealing with sound.

Eleventh Wordy Wednesday

2010-03-31T09:06:00.000-07:00

Astral: A superhuman that has some power dealing with cosmic forces.

Thirteenth Temporal Tuesday

2010-03-30T04:54:00.000-07:00

Here's another future storyline.

Comic: Nikoli's Journal: Queen of Thieves
Summary: Blindside, Click, & Rev recount how they tried and failed to steal from Nikoli.
Year: Three

Twelveth Temporal Tuesday

2010-03-30T04:45:00.000-07:00

Here's a future storyline:

Comic: Chaos Island
Summary: New York is transported to the middle of the Pacific ocean, and its people, hero, villain, and average person alike, must face a new disaster weekly, sometimes daily for the next year. Includes three deaths and two weddings.
Year: Six

Double the Amount

2010-03-30T04:42:00.000-07:00

Because of family matters and going to the Super Show, I wasn't able to post updates in the last week. To make for this I will be making two posts everyday for the next week. First up two Temporal Tuesdays.

First Night on the Town part 8

2010-03-18T21:40:00.000-07:00

I do a rolling dive to the right and shout a response as the Gargoyle swoops pasts me, “Not me, I just got here.” I hope that I sound brave, but I don’t think I can talk my way out of this.

Coming up from the roll, I turn to face my attacker. The Gargoyle is hovering over me chanting something. A cloud of darkness begins to form between its clawed hands. I don’t know what it is, but it can’t be good. Finally the cloud dispenses and the Gargoyle is holding a dark silver battle-axe. It gives me a cocky grin as it says, “This is going to be fun,” before it charges me with the weapon. I groan to myself as I dodge to my left. This is going to be hard.

The Gargoyle swings back around and I deflect their attack with the shield. Think Virgil, think. Maybe if I use the net… No! I already used it on Billy. This is going to be even harder than I thought.

Maybe I dismissed the talking idea too soon. When the Gargoyle comes around for another attack, I wait until the last second and flip over them. They miss me, but lodge their axe in the roof. As I soar over their head, I try to reason with them, “I’m innocent, the guy you want is the alley.” Turning to face the Gargoyle, I see them struggle to free their weapon, before giving up and starting to stalk towards me. At least I don’t have to worry about the axe anymore.

Fourth Title Thursday

2010-03-17T21:58:00.000-07:00

The Victor's Teamup Journal: A throwback to DaniAllie's Golden Age. It's focuses on The Victor, but is told by the people who fight beside him. Normally self-contained but will have a few cliffhanger issues.

I got the idea from fukujinzuke's SHELL webcomic over at drunk duck.

Tenth Wordy Wednesday

2010-03-16T21:51:00.000-07:00

Asgardian: An Avatar whose powers mirror that of a high-ranking Norse god or goddess.

Eleventh Temporal Tuesday

2010-03-16T15:01:00.000-07:00

Here's a future storyline

Comic: Earth: The New Hell
Summary: Demons and other hellacious creature begin to rise from the Underworld and start to literally raise Hell.
Year: Three

Eleventh Most Wanted Monday

2010-03-14T21:00:00.000-07:00

Bo: Mistress of the staff fighting, she was raised to serve a secret order.

Alias: Jogo E. Scrima
Age: 25
Ethnic group: Chinese
Marital status: Single
Height: 5'8"
Weight: 115 lbs
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Black
Known accomplices: Unknown
Abilities: Mistress of the quarterstaff, escrima sticks, and most forms of the staff and bushido jiu jistu
Group affiliations: Unknown

Cover for Issue 1

2010-03-11T21:37:00.000-08:00

Okay I have a loooong day ahead of me tomorrow, so instead of updating the story, I'm posting what the cover would have been if this was still a comic.

Here's the cover for Issue #1

A person dressed in a dark blue bodysuit and full face mask crouching with a big blue shield strapped to their left arm. Across the person's chest is a white dove with its wings spread open and wrapping around to the person's back. The mask is plain save for the big oval white lens. The shield is round and also has a dove with its wings spread across the center. Behind the figure is three different scenes. In the center, a smooth figure with angelic wings hovers over a burning apartment building. To the left, is a figure on a motorcycle with an unconscious child at their feet. And to the right, is a demonic figure with wings flying into a sniper scope.

Fourth Tower Thursday

2010-03-10T21:55:00.000-08:00

Huntre's Security: The office and home of Virgil Huntre and his son Henri. Located on the top floor of a apartment building in New York's Hell's Kitchen. The apartment is cramp with Henri sleeping on the couch and Virgil sleeping on a hammock over the door.

Ninth Wordy Wednesday

2010-03-09T22:04:00.000-08:00

Aqua: A superhuman that has some power dealing with water.

First Night on the Town (So Far)

2010-03-09T12:01:00.000-08:00

First Night on the Town
The echo of my scream greets me as I swing my legs off the hammock. I listen for any reaction to my waking. No just the regular sounds. Mr. & Mrs. Mowrey in 6I is arguing about his cheating. He’s not; he just doesn’t want her to know that he’s addicted to the retro arcade shop that just opened up down the street. Paige Paige, yes that’s her real name, was taking care of her little bundle of screams down stairs. I hope I’m not the reason for the midnight singing. The city is giving the normal performance of sirens, combating music, and colorful language. I was awakened by the nightmare. By that memory.

Before I can let my thoughts continue I realize my hands are cramping and my lungs are burning. Releasing my breath and my grip, I land on the ground with a silent thud. Glancing over to the couch, I breathe a sigh of relief that Mom took Henri for the weekend. Last thing I need is to keep him up with my nightmares.

I walk over to the dresser and look up at the picture of the three of us at The Victorious Hero, right after I got back of New Orleans. No more putting it off.

I shove the dresser towards the door, hoping this will work. Otherwise I will get a reaction from the neighbors.

The wheels I added move the dresser smoothly until the rope stops it just short of the door. I check to see if the rope can take the strain again. Good, it can. I lean to check to see if the freed floor safe has been tampered with.

Satisfied I stand up and reach under the picture for the key, my eye catching the small print on the bottom, ‘Familia Primus’. I nod inward to myself and repeat the promise to myself. Always family first, nothing else matters.

I crouch over the safe, inserting the key and placing my thumb on the handle’s scanner in one fluid motion. After turning the key and typing in the seven-digit code, I open the safe and look at the third and forth most important things in my life, my uniform and the journals. Which story will Henri want to hear when he comes back? The Thief Wars? Or maybe Coming Home? After pulling out the uniform I quickly close and lock the safe.

I stare at the bundle for a minute, not believing what I am about to do. The shirt is dark blue and has a giant dove on the chest, the wings reaching into the back in almost a hugging gesture, the wing tips almost touching. That wasn’t in my design, maybe its Dad attempt to be close to me. Shaking off the thoughts of family, I quickly get dressed.

I walk back to the picture and flip it over, revealing the mirror on the back. I look confused at my reflection. I stand wearing the uniform with dark blue gloves and boots, my dark hair flowing over my shoulders. What, why can I see my hair?

Then it hits me. You forgot the mask, Virgil. I quickly take the shirt off, put my hair in a ponytail, and tape it between my shoulder blades. Can’t believe I forgot the mask. Bet The Victor never would have.

After making sure I have enough give so I don’t yank out hair, I put on the mask. Its reflective eyes and dark blue skin greet me as I look in the mirror. I muse over my mistake as I put the shield on to my arm. How can I be a symbol of peace and justice, if I’m making mistake before I’m even out on patrol.

I look down at the blue round shield, the bird in the center matches the one on my chest. Running my hand over the rim I look over at my desk and again nod to myself. Guess I’ll have to believe in what Teach taught me: ‘Bluff, luck, and raw talent when you have it.’

It’s time I stop stalling and make my move. I look over my apartment one last time. Hopefully I’ll be back. I walk to the door and start to run towards the side window, sliding the shield onto my back. I dive out the window barely slipping past as I aim for the rooftop below. Watch out New York, here I come.

Running across the rooftops, I test the flexibility of the uniform, leapfrogging over chimneys, flipping through clotheslines, and generally having fun, I should have done this much sooner. Landing on the nearest chimney, I look over the city. So where to start?

From somewhere nearby I hear, “Get away from me! Help!!! So---” Gotta love this city. Time to be a hero.

I head towards where I think the cry came from, listening for anything that will tell me if I’m right. Nothing. The cry belongs to a kid, can’t be any older than ten. Thick Brooklyn accent, what he doing in HK? Guess I’ll have to ask him.

About a minute later, I’m perched on a chimney overlooking the alley where the scream came from. I’m too far up to make out much, but I could see it was two guys standing beside a white van and a third bigger man tossing the kid inside. I was also able to catch the last of the argument that the first two was having.

The first guy, standing the furthest from the van, “I still don’t like it. He’s not telling us why he needs these people.”

The second guy, leaning against the van, “Relax. We’re getting paid well for this gig. Just shut up, do as you’re told, or you’ll blow it for the rest of us.”

“I don’t care about getting paid. I just want---.” I had wanted to hear the rest of the sentence, but thought it would be better to help the kid first. Tuning them out I focus on what I’m about to do. Moving the shield from my back onto my right arm and creep onto the ledge. I’m going to take out the big guy, if I’’ have any chance at rescuing the kid. Taking a deep breath I dive off, holding the shield in front of me and bracing my right arm with my left. This is going to hurt. A LOT.

As I slam it to the muscle-bound goon I realize one thing about myself. I HATE BEING RIGHT. Getting up off the thug, I shake my head and try to figure out if I’m upright or doing a handstand. After I decide my feet are on the ground, I turn to face the other four. Sorry, I mean two. Mr. Question The Money had ran over to check on the sleeping giant while his partner, Mr. Relax had moved to block me from getting to the van. His pose seems familiar.

It starts to sink in when I hear what Mr. QTM says as he tries to wake the sleeping ugly, “Bear? Bear? Are you alright?” Bear? Glancing over at Mr. QTM, I realize he’s dressed more to give a lecture than to commit a crime with his brown vest and khakis. Syd? Turning to face Mr. Relax as he inches closer I finally notice his loose clothing and his fire filled eyes. Davy?

Shooting straight up, my pain forgotten as I stare at them. Running my eyes over each one I start to list their names, ages, and skills to myself. David, or Davy-san as he likes to be called, is the youngest brother of the three with some of the fastest reflexes I’ve ever seen. His karate isn’t anything to laugh at either. Bart, or rather the infamously known Bear, is the middle brother. He normally bench press a 1,000 pounds and is skilled in Greco-Roman wrestling. He once “roughhoused” with a baby grizzly just to say he had. Sydney is the oldest of the Tones Brothers and used to help me plan the heists, when he wasn’t studying for a history test. They’re my old crew, the Sons of Crime. All we need is Billy, and the whole gang would be here.

Davy knocks me out of memory lane with a leaping knee to the jaw. I start to fall towards trashcans behind me and don’t even try to right myself. I shouldn’t be a hero.

Davy delivers a right to the left side of my jaw, making me spit out blood. I used to lead these guys. If Sydney couldn’t stay legit, what hope do I have?

Landing in trash, I just stay there as Davy dives at me and starts beating my face in. I don’t think any of this is karate, but I don’t care. Just as I’m about to blackout, someone shouts enough and Davy stops. Peering out thro one of my black eyes I see a whip around his wrist, pulling him off me. What, the fight got too boring for you?

Forcing myself awake, I stare at the three brothers. Bear has gotten up and is nursing the bump on his head. Next to him is Sydney still pulling at the whip around Davy-san’s wrist. And Davy-san of course was standing over me.

Sydney pulling on the whip again, “I said ‘Enough’, David.”

Davy-san pulls back on the whip, “No, this tight attacked Bear and I’m going to make him pay.” Nice to see the years haven’t change Davy’s need to talk like he’s in an action movie.

Nodding at me as he tightens his grip, Sydney continued, “Not a good idea, look at his chest.”

He glances at me while he continues to try and free himself, “It’s a bird, so what?”

Releasing the whip he places himself between Davy and myself, Sydney points at my chest and almost shouted, “It’s the Dove.”

Davy-san’s face goes white as he lets out a small stream of curses. Great. My father is saving me. I can’t recall what happens next only that after a few minutes I hear the van pull away, very fast. Listening to it speed away, I finally give in to injures and pass out.

The voice comes from out of nowhere, “Hey, pal wake up.” Great. Someone was watching. I was about to tell him to leave me alone so I can beat myself up when suddenly I feel like I’ve drunken to pots of coffee and shot up from the trash.

A man wearing a light blue leather outfit sitting on a motorcycle greets me with a golden staff pointed right at me. “Where’s the boy.” Who’s this guy? And why to I feel like I have a gun in my face.

I stand up and lean against the alley wall for support. The masked man leans back on his bike, but never takes his eyes or golden staff off me. Staring at him, I ask the first thing that comes to mind, “Who are you?” Thinking I add, and why do I feel invigorated?

The Masked Man leans forward and says, “No questions. Where’s the boy?”

Feeling some of my old fire burning again, I shrug my shoulders and say, “Sorry, I don’t do matchmaking.”

The Masked Man slowly leans back and says, “No jokes. Tell me now.” I finally realize the answer my last question as I hunch over in pain, my heart barely pumping.

I look a the Masked Man and finally squeeze out an answer, “I… Don’t… Know…”

Pulling his staff away from me, I feel my heart begin to beat normally. Starting up his motorcycle he gives me a dismissive glance and says, “See it wasn’t that hard. No go home. This is manly work.”

I watch him ride off before I start to climb a nearby fire escape. I’m glad to see someone on patrol, but its odd that I’ve never heard of him before.

About five minutes later, I’m sitting on a ledge overlooking the city. I’ve taken off the mask and laid the shield down beside me. Studying the bloodstains on the mask, I go over what the Masked Man said and can’t think of anything to argue against. I shouldn’t be a hero. Sorry Victor, but you wasted your life on a nobody.

Standing up, I catch my reflection in a window. Intentional or not the Masked Man fixed my face, so at least I don’t have to come up with a lie to tell Mom and Henri. They worry enough about me. Especially after what happened in New Orleans. I’ll worry about what to do about tomorrow, tomorrow. Throwing the mask back on and slipping the shield I leap off the roof to the one below I start heading home to forget this bad idea.

Running across the rooftop I hear someone say, “Freeze.” Great, the police. How can this get any worse? I turn to see a man wearing a black riot mask and bodysuit with guns strapped here and there pointing two large Uzis at me. I had to ask, it’s my personal nightmare man, Gunner.

I try to stay calm as I raise my hands in the air and stutter out a question, “G-G-Gunner?! How did you get out of ‘The Can’?”

Gunner lets out a soft laugh and yanks off his mask. I stare at the face of my former best friend, not believing that it’s him. But it’s him. He still cuts his hair military style and he still has the scar I gave him. It’s Billy. It’s Billy with GUNS.

I’m shaken out of my shock when I hear his answer, “Dad didn’t. I’m the new and improved model. Bye.” I see him raise the Uzis again and open fire.

I dodge to the right and slide the shield off my back. Bullets dig into the roof around me sending up chunks of concrete. I secure the shield onto my arm as I head for the roof entrance. I fake reaching for the door before spinning around the side placing the entrance between me and Billy. It won’t stop him for long, but I just need sometime to think. I need to stop him for he before he hurts someone with those things.

Glancing around the corner, I’m greeted with more gunfire. Before pulling back I can see Billy working towards me. I take quick inventory of his death dealers. He has two Uzis with the max of 50 bullets each, the handguns in his holsters has the max of 17 each, and the peashooter strapped to his hip with the max of 8. I have to plan this right. Billy’s like his father, he hates to miss. If I let him shot at me, but dodge and block at the right times he’ll go through his bullets without a second thought. Guess its time to test the shield.

I leap out from behind the entrance with the shield held in front of me. I dodge across roof making sure that the bullets only hit the shield or the ground around me. Reaching the edge building, I do a 180 flip and dodge back the way I came. I hear Billy throw down the Uzis and pull out the handguns. Good. Two down, three to go. I dodge across the roof two more times, before the handguns run out of ammo.

It’s now or never. I run up to Billy, ready to try out the net only to be greeted by the peashooter to the face. I see Billy’s smirk widen as he says, “Always wanted to kill a tight.”

This didn’t go so well. The gun shoved in my face almost seems to say, “No duh”. Like I’ve said before, Billy’s biggest weakness is his ego. I have to work to that. Looking Billy straight in the eye, I force myself to relax, and ask, “Do I look like a lawyer to you, bullets for brains? Or are you afraid you’ll miss?” I add a slight laugh at the end just to enrage him even little more.

After a second, Billy lets out a dry laugh, “Big mouth for a dead man, but I’ll show you,” and starts to walk backwards. As soon as he’s a foot away from me, I throw up my shield and take aim.

A look of surprise crosses Billy’s face as the tangle net shots out at him. He fires randomly as it engulfs him. Letting out a laugh, and the breath I had been holding, I look at him and say, “Always wanted to trap a triggerman.” I need to work on my material. At least the shield worked, I didn’t have a plan b.

Swiftly taking the empty gun from him, I toss it over with the others. As I drag the netted, struggling, and cursing Billy across the roof, I start to think that this might not be such a bad idea. The Victor most of made some mistakes in his early career, so I’m got to be allowed a few mess-ups, right?

I toss my former best friend down the fire escape and watch as he rolls down the stairs before landing in the dumpster under it. Shouting after him I say, “If anyone asks, you were caught by The Protector.” I silently add, “That’s for Ursula, you bullet crazed buffoon.”

Turning around, I look over the pile of guns. I can’t leave these here, but do I have to touch them? Just the thought of handling those things gives my goose bumps. The only reason I could touch the peashooter was out of reflex. I can’t just leave them here. I slowly walk over to the pile and try to convince myself its not going to come to life.

Grabbing one of the handguns, my mind explodes with a voices and sounds from past. “Batter up, bullet for brains.” A shotgun firing. A woman’s scream. A fight. Metal hitting metal. Sirens. Finally the ever-calm voice of The Victor enters my mind, “Your family needs help, get over yourself and do something. I know you can.” Snapping out of my trace, I find the guns broken down to their basic lying in a pile in front of me. Five years ago, I decided to fight to late. I can’t do that again.

Getting ready to stuff the gun parts into the shield’s hidden compartment, I’m suddenly hit with a feeling of dread. Why was Billy up here in the place? Scanning the rooftop, my dread turns to horror as I see the duffel bag in the corner with a sniper rifle set up right next to it. Scooping up the gun parts, I run over and dump them into the open bag. Please tell me I wasn’t too late.

I lie down and try to look through the scope without touching the gun. I let out a slight, “What the…” as I see what looks like a black gargoyle screaming towards me. I know I’m in trouble because the Gargoyle is growling “Assassin!!!” at the top of its lungs.

Tenth Temporal Tuesday

2010-03-09T11:48:00.000-08:00

Okay, here's a future storyline.

Comic: Dark Days to Come
Summary: The arrival of The Last Hero forces Driver to reveal more about the future and how they must change it. Barbra gets the shock of a lifetime.
Year: Seven

Tenth Most Wanted Monday

2010-03-07T21:38:00.001-08:00

Nth: A Freak with the power to mimic 10 times the abilities and/or powers of anyone around him.

Real name: Nick Thomas Hogan
Age: 25
Ethnic group: Caucasian
Marital status: Single
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 175 lbs
Eyes: Black
Hair: Silver
Known accomplices: Unknown
Ability: Mimicry of the powers and/or abilities of those around him.
Group affiliation: Unknown

Hope in the Shadows part 2

2010-03-06T22:20:00.000-08:00

1987, November 22, 10am:

Doc’s mad. Wounds reopened while I slept. Freaked out my bunkmate. Woke me up two hours ago and started demanding answers. Where was I last night? How was I shot? Who took the bullets out? Why won’t I give him a straight answer?

Doc’s wife patched me back up while I evaded his questions. When he threatened to throw me out, I left.

First Night on the Town part 7

2010-03-05T00:37:00.000-08:00

This didn’t go so well. The gun shoved in my face almost seems to say, “No duh”. Like I’ve said before, Billy’s biggest weakness is his ego. I have to work to that. Looking Billy straight in the eye, I force myself to relax, and ask, “Do I look like a lawyer to you, bullets for brains? Or are you afraid you’ll miss?” I add a slight laugh at the end just to enrage him even little more.

After a second, Billy lets out a dry laugh, “Big mouth for a dead man, but I’ll show you,” and starts to walk backwards. As soon as he’s a foot away from me, I throw up my shield and take aim.

A look of surprise crosses Billy’s face as the tangle net shots out at him. He fires randomly as it engulfs him. Letting out a laugh, and the breath I had been holding, I look at him and say, “Always wanted to triggerman.” I need to work on my material. At least the shield worked, I didn’t have a plan b.

Swiftly taking the empty gun from him, I toss it over with the others. As I drag the netted, struggling, and cursing Billy across the roof, I start to think that this might not be such a bad idea. The Victor most of made some mistakes in his early career, so I’m got to be allowed a few mess-ups, right?

I toss my former best friend down the fire escape and watch as he rolls down the stairs before landing in the dumpster under it. Shouting after him I say, “If anyone asks, you were caught by The Protector.” I silently add, “That’s for Ursula, you bullet crazed buffoon.”

Turning around, I look over the pile of guns. I can’t leave these here, but do I have to touch them? Just the thought of handling those things gives my goose bumps. The only reason I could touch the peashooter was out of reflex. I can’t just leave them here. I slowly walk over to the pile and try to convince myself its not going to come to life.

Grabbing one of the handguns, my mind explodes with a voices and sounds from past. “Batter up, bullet for brains.” A shotgun firing. A woman’s scream. A fight. Metal hitting metal. Sirens. Finally the ever-calm voice of The Victor enters my mind, “Your family needs help, get over yourself and do something. I know you can.” Snapping out of my trace, I find the guns broken down to their basic lying in a pile in front of me. Five years ago, I decided to fight to late. I can’t do that again.

Getting ready to stuff the gun parts into the shield’s hidden compartment, I’m suddenly hit with a feeling of dread. Why was Billy up here in the place? Scanning the rooftop, my dread turns to horror as I see the duffel bag in the corner with a sniper rifle set up right next to it. Scooping up the gun parts, I run over and dump them into the open bag. Please tell me I wasn’t too late.

I lie down and try to look through the scope without touching the gun. I let out a slight, “What the…” as I see what looks like a black gargoyle screaming towards me. I know I’m in trouble because the Gargoyle is growling “Assassin!!!” at the top of its lungs.

Third Titan Thursday

2010-03-03T22:26:00.000-08:00

Blue Beak: The creator of the hero and the superhuman indexes and part-time member of The New York Patrol. His current location isn't known, but many believe him to be at The Museum

Real name: Clive Wiedlin
Age: 46
Ethnic group: Caucasian
Height: 6'
Weight: 160 lbs
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Black
Occupation: Circus Owner/Curator of The Museum (Suspected)
Abilities: Knife throwing, acrobatics, research, and organization
Group affiliation: The New York Patrol (formerly), Dove Empire

Eighth Wordy Wednesday

2010-03-02T22:46:00.000-08:00

Alien: A being not from this earth. (duh)

Ninth Temporal Tuesday

2010-03-01T20:02:00.000-08:00

Here's another scene from the near future, again it's been edited to avoid spoilers.

"Sorry I'm late , let me use the bathroom real quick before we go. It's this way, right?" shoots past and heads into the bedroom
"Not that way!!" races after him
"Whoo! Forget the bathroom, why do you have paintings and sculptures of and in your bedroom?" looks around the room
"Uh..., We better got to get going before we miss the game." turns to leave
"You like , don't you?" follows him
"Mind your own business , I mean it." stops and shoves his finger in 's face
"Fine, I'll drop it for now, but we're talking about this later." starts to leave
"No we're not, because there's nothing to talk about." erases 's short-term memory
"What were we talking about?" looking confused

Ninth Most Wanted Monday

2010-02-28T21:44:00.000-08:00

Helios: An Avatar of light and the son of the assassin Helio, he has sworn to kill the son of Nikoli, in retaliation for his father's incarceration.

Real name: Helio Jr.
Age: 25
Ethnic group: Hispanic
Marital status: Single
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 185 lbs
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Golden brown
Known accomplices: His father Helio
Occupation: Hitman
Abilities: Control over light, able to make hard light weapons and other simple constructs, create the illusion of invisibility.
Group affiliation: Unknown

Golden Age Sunday: Hope in the Shadows Part 1

2010-02-27T23:13:00.000-08:00

Now a change of pace. From the cheerful 90's where heroes were respected to the dark 80's, before the Hero Act was passed, when they were feared and hunted. This one will be told by Omnifarious, the Mythic Manhunter as he has his first teamup with The Victor, The Children's Protector.

Hope in the Shadows Part I

Omnifarious’ Journal:
1987, November 22, 5am:

Just cleaned out another drug house. Took two in the shoulder. The body armor didn’t hold. Need to find something stronger.

Found out that I have some medical training. Had the bullets out and sealed the wound before I realized what I was doing. Arm will be a problem for a few weeks. Don’t know how I know that.

Jones is getting bold. This one had kids acting as his runners. Oldest wasn’t over ten. Scared them off but Jones will just replace them. Can’t figure out why I am angry about that.

Dealers were talking about the pretty boy again. Wears the color of death and can’t stop smiling. He seems to love the spotlight. Makes my job easier. Long as the dealers and cops focus on him I go unnoticed.

Made off with $198,000 of Jones’ money. Should help with the cause. Gave some to the shelter. Rest will buy me a space to work. Warehouse best bet. Better this way. Shelter’s only place I know but too easy to relax. To forget about the cause.

Doc almost caught me leaving the shelter. Almost found my equipment too. He’s not happy with my sleep pattern. Me refusing to talk about how he found me don’t help. Even more good reasons to leave.

Need a story to explain wounds. Worry about all of this after some sleep.

First Night on the Town part 6

2010-02-25T22:50:00.000-08:00

I dodge to the right and slide the shield off my back. Bullets dig into the roof around me sending up chunks of concrete. I secure the shield onto my arm as dead for the roof entrance. I fake reaching for the door before spinning around the side placing the entrance between me and Billy. It won’t stop him for long, but I just need sometime to think. I need to stop him for he before he hurts someone with those things.

Glancing around the corner, I’m greeted with more gunfire. Before pulling back I can see Billy working towards me. I take quick inventory of his death dealers. He has two Uzis with the max of 50 bullets each, the handguns in his holsters has the max of 17 each, and the peashooter strapped to his hip with the max of 8. I have to plan this right. Billy’s like his father, he hates to miss. If I let him shot at me, but dodge and block at the right times he’ll go through his bullets without a second thought. Guess its time to test the shield.

I leap out from behind the entrance with the shield held in front of me. I dodge across roof making sure that the bullets only hit the shield or the ground around me. Reaching the edge building, I do a 180 flip and dodge back the way I came. I hear Billy throw down the Uzis and pull out the handguns. Good. Two down, three to go. I dodge across the roof two more times, before the handguns run out of ammo.

It’s now or never. I run up to Billy, ready to try out the net only to be greeted by the peashooter to the face. I see Billy’s smirk widen as he says, “Always wanted to kill a tight.”

Third Title Thursday

2010-02-24T21:48:00.000-08:00

Time Lines: An offshoot of Other Probabilities, it takes a look at the DaniAllie Universe if it was set in another time, ie. the Dark Ages or the Swinging Twenties.

Seventh Wordy Wednesday

2010-02-23T17:43:00.000-08:00

Ambrosia: A chemical drug that grants the user superhuman abilities and/or powers and usually kills during the first use.

Blog News/ Goofs with Acronyms

2010-02-23T04:38:00.000-08:00

I recently updated the blog and changed a few things around so that its hopefully easier to explore and find what you're looking for. I moved atomic99's playlist higher up the page. Put the followers and keep informed to the bottom of the page, under the posts. Added a search engine that hopefully makes it easier to find past posts. And changed my icon to The Victor that Stephan Legend was kind enough to do for me.

I also added the recently finished Riding Sidecar and the Valentine Special A Hero and His Love to the back issues. Of course it took me two days to realize that Golden Age Sunday abbreviated was an acronym for GAS. I'm not changing it, so let any and all jokes come.

Eighth Temporal Tuesday

2010-02-22T22:06:00.000-08:00

Here's a scene that takes place in the near future.

Virgil is working on his homework in the cafeteria. In the corner he sees Will arguing with Ursula about something. Ursula throws something at Will. Will responds by calling her a selfish wench. Ursula slaps him.

Eighth Most Wanted Monday

2010-02-21T22:09:00.000-08:00

Koga Tana: Mistress of the katanas, she was raised to serve a secret order.

Alias: Tina Kong
Age: 25
Ethnic group: Japanese
Marital status: Single
Height: 5'5"
Weight: 125 lbs
Eyes: Green
Hair: Jet-Black
Known accomplices: Unknown
Abilities: Mistress of katanas, skilled in bushido jiu jitsu, leadership
Group affiliations: Unknown

Golden Age Sunday: Riding Sidecar Part 5

2010-02-21T03:11:00.000-08:00

Riding Sidecar
Part V

I woke up confused with a splitting headache. When I reached for the back of my head, I found my arms were pinned to my side. Trying to tilt my head I quickly become aware that something that was wrapped around my head gagging me. Focusing on my surroundings, I come to the realization that I’m swinging high above the ground tied up by a fuzzy rope. Straining my eyes, I traced the rope to its base only to discover that it was Dorkin’s tail. Great, how was I going to get out of this?

My planning was cut short when I heard The Victor calling up from the ground, “Let her go Dorkin.” Shifting my gaze to the ground I saw The Victor standing beside a tied up Dyer. I really couldn’t tell with the beak, but she seemed to have a smug look on her face. I could see why, this was a hostage exchange.

I didn’t get a chance to kick myself for putting The Victor in this situation because Dorkin started laughing and swinging me around even more. After a few seconds he stopped, leaned off the branch towards The Victor, and said, “Let Buteo go or Ateles let girl go.”

As The Victor and Dorkin stared each other down, I quickly went over what Dorkin just said. Why did he call her Buteo? Why did he call himself Ateles? After a second I remember what The Victor said before we went into the park, “Or as he likes to call himself, Lox.” He also said they were animal enthusiasts with spliced DNA. Studying Dyer for a second, I realize she wasn’t just a mash of varies birds but a red-tail hawk, genus Buteo. Meaning that Dorkin may not have mixed and matched monkey DNA, but that of a spider monkey, genus Ateles. Before I could continue along that line of thought, Dyer/Buteo knocked me off it when she smugly told The Victor, “Your move hero.”

Letting out a laugh, The Victor nodded his head towards me and said, “Actually its her move.” I was thinking that this was going to be my last teamup with The Cheerful Champion but to hear The Victor still had faith in me, even when I was the hostage, gave me hope and removed any doubt in my mind. Well might as well try.

Biting into Dorkin’s/Ateles’ tail, I prepared myself for the fall. As expected Dorkin howled in pain and released his hold on me, falling toward the ground I swung my whip out towards the nearest branch. Securing the hold, I swung feet first into a very surprised Dorkin’s face. Landing on the tree limb, I quickly unhooked the whip and snapped it after Dorkin, wrapping him up in manner similar to how I woke up minutes ago. Activating the grippers in the handle of my whip, I planted it into branch and start to climb down the tree. On the ground I discovered The Victor had called the police and had gagged Dyer with an acorn and tied her to a tree.

It took the police twenty minutes to find us, just enough time for The Victor to locate The Co-Champion and put it back onto The Crimson Sentinel. As the police car pulled away with Dorkin and Dyer we got back onto our respective vehicles. Starting up the bike, The Victor asked, “So what do you want to eat, Detective?”

Confused I looked around trying to figure out who he was talking to, “Who? What?”

I got the answers I was looking for when I heard The Victor laughing beside me, “Sorry, I like to give nicknames to the people I teamup with. I was asking what you want to eat.”

Confused I asked, “You still want to teamup with me, after I almost got us killed? And why call me ‘Detective’?”

Leaning towards me, he flashed a grin and said, “You’re always asking questions and you proved that you can handle yourself. So yes, I still want to teamup with you.”

Geda had gotten away, but The Victor was acting like we had won. I was hungry, so I shrugged my shoulders and said, “Okay, Steve’s Deli, its about a block away.”

Getting the booth Blue Beak and I normally eat at, The Victor ordered, big surprise, a glass of milk and I got a soda. After thanking the cook, who personally delivered our food, he finished the story he was telling, “So Blue Beak looks at Quiver and says, ‘But I was following you,’” sending both of us into a fit of laughter.

As I listen to him tell me another stories about Blue Beak and The New York Patrol, some funny stuff, I couldn’t help but go back to my line of thought earlier today. What caused him to become a hero? Whatever it was, he was surprisingly modest. When the owner offered to pay for our lunch, The Victor just politely declined and asked for the bill. The cook never served Blue Beak or I and we always paid for meals.

Finishing up the lunch, The Victor reached into his belt and said, “You’re missing something from your utility belt.”

After searching my pouches for what it could be, I turned to ask what it was only to find him handing me a small round device with a red v on it. Taking it from him, I started looking it over, “A V-Radio? But I thought only Patrol members have ones.”

Nodding his head, The Victor laughed, “Yes, a V-Radio. And yes only Patrol members can have them.”

Trying to suppress my excitement I asked, “Does that mean…”

The V-Radio cut me off with a booming announcement, “Attention all units, Lox has just attacked the prison transport with Ateles and Buteo. Repeat. Lox has just attacked the prison transport.” Just when I thought the day couldn’t get anymore exciting.

Two minutes later, after The Victor paid the bill and left a sizable tip, a twenty, we were tearing down the street in The Crimson Sentinel and The Co-Champion. The Victor was wearing his trademark grin and I was wearing a similar one. I had the feeling that that day was just beginning and I wasn’t wrong.

The End…

for now.

First Night on the Town part 5

2010-02-19T00:29:00.000-08:00

About five minutes later, I’m sitting on a ledge overlooking the city. I’ve taken off the mask and laid the shield down beside me. Studying the bloodstains on the mask, I go over what the Masked Man said and can’t think of anything to argue against. I shouldn’t be a hero. Sorry Victor, but you wasted your life on a nobody.

Standing up, I catch my reflection in a window. Intentional or not the Masked Man fixed my face, so at least I don’t have to come up with a lie to tell Mom and Henri. They worry enough about me. Especially after what happened in New Orleans. I’ll worry about what to do about tomorrow, tomorrow. Throwing the mask back on and slipping the shield I leap off the roof to the one below I start heading home to forget this bad idea.

Running across the rooftop I hear someone say, “Freeze.” Great, the police. How can this get any worse? I turn to see a man wearing a black riot mask and bodysuit with guns strapped here and there pointing two large Uzis at me. I had to ask, it’s my personal nightmare man, Gunner.

I try to stay calm as I raise my hands in the air and stutter out a question, “G-G-Gunner?! How did you get out of ‘The Can’?”

Gunner lets out a soft laugh and yanks off his mask. I stare at the face of my former best friend, not believing that it’s him. But it’s him. He still cuts his hair military style and he still has the scar I gave him. It’s Billy. It’s Billy with GUNS.

I’m shaken out of my shock when I hear his answer, “Dad didn’t. I’m the new and improved model. Bye.” I see him raise the Uzis again and open fire.

Third Tower Thursday

2010-02-17T23:11:00.000-08:00

Cheant* (The Can) Prison: A supermax for supercriminals, its located in on an isle just east of the Statue of Liberty. Built into solid rock, it stands ten stories tall and two miles wide. The prison is divided into two sections, alpha & beta. Alpha for the super powerful criminals and beta for the average ones. "The Can" is famous for being to only active prison to never have a successful escape, yet. Its also famous for its two most know inmates, Emerald Elf and the Gunner, who have tried to break the prison's flawless record.

*I've found two different definitions for Cheant. The first says it means the falling and the second says it means dearly. Until I find out which it is I will be referring to it be its nick name "The Can."

Sixth Wordy Wednesday

2010-02-17T10:37:00.001-08:00

Alien: A being not of this Earth. (duh)

Seventh Temporal Tuesday

2010-02-16T00:49:00.000-08:00

Nikoli Stile. Thief. Criminal Mastermind. Genius. Trickster. Hero. What can be said about him that he hasn't said himself?

Born Nicholas Stile to Irish immigrants, Henry and Elizabeth Stile in the spring of 1963. Henry was a lifetime beat cop and his wife, Elizabeth made money reading at the local library.

Even at when he very young, Nick showed that he was different from other kids his age. He retained everything he saw or heard, could learn a skill just by seeing some else do it, and solved most puzzles within minutes.

He first made world news, when at the age of 4, he left his parents at the New York Zoo and went home to catch his favorite cartoon. He had crossed town with money he found off the street, borrowed a neighbor's hair pin so he could pick the lock to his parents apartment, and called his father's precinct to let them when the show was over to tell them he was okay. Even after all that, he made the news the next year because he refused to go to an advanced school and would only attend public school with his friends.

He seemed to fade from the public mind, but sprung back when at the age of 15 he moved out of his parents home and had himself declared a legal adult. No one know where he got the money, but he apparently he owned a few pawnshops and loan offices as well as a bar. He again bopped up when he disappeared near the end of his junior year and didn't return until a year later having changed his name from Nicholas to Nikoli. To no one's surprise he graduated valedictorian.

He turned down offers to attend college and left on a ship with a few of his friends, not to be heard of until Superbowl Sunday the following year. Using assumed names, he had payed for two minutes of screen time and gave a speech on how the world was giving into apathy and he couldn't stand it any longer. He declared himself a nomad and said that criminals would be punished under his watchful eye. At the end of his speech 20 of the world's most wanted people were delivered, by mail, to the offices of Interpol, the FBI, and other similar branches throu out the globe.

Seventh Most Wanted Monday

2010-02-15T00:34:00.000-08:00

Seeing how I've run out of villains that are tied to Virgil's past, except for Emerald Elf, I'm going to introduce someone that he will be meeting soon, Adrenalin.

Adrenalin: A thrill seeking millionaire, he commits high risk crimes more for the excitement than for the money.

Real name: Ed Drilman
Age: 23
Ethnic group: Caucasian
Marital status: Single
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 185 lbs
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Blonde
Known accomplices: Unknown
Abilities: Pilot, skydiving, mountain climbing, deep sea diving, expects in explosives, surfing, snow surfing, polar bearing, and other extreme sports.
Group affiliation: Unknown

A Hero and His Love

2010-02-14T08:57:00.000-08:00

He quickened his pace as his heart began to race. Where could she be, his fiery Valkyrie? Their love being tried and true, for him there was only his girl in blue.

He had realized something was a miss when he arrived for their date two hours too late. She had been gone for sometime having written a note "Come Find Me" in a hand most fine.

He had risked all for their first dance because to him this will be his one and only romance. He loved everything about her, but where would she hide, my good sir?

The dark blue of her eyes that were able to see throu any and all his lies. After the incident with the knife, she was the only one who saw all sides of his life.

The flow of of her chestnut mane as they would speed from lane to lane. It would always ended up covering her face by the time they finished a strainus case.

How she pressed lips when she thought he was being too generous with his tips. So set was her jaw whenever she would raise her gun for the law.

As he tried to figure out where to start above all when his cell received the call. Before he could give a reply, his landlady shouted at him something about a pizza guy?

Moving far above the street he headed home to find if this was a trick or a treat. Coming throu his private entrance he realized that he had a witness.

The figure might wish him harm because even in shadow he could make out their firearm. Ready for a rumble he throw out a blinding light and prepared for trouble.

As his eyes adjusted to the light he was greeted by an unexpected sight, for before him was his girl.

He suddenly realized the landlady's fun as he faced down a pizza, not a gun. She wore a grin and one of his shirts that stretched to her shin. As she mouthed, "Here's looking for you, kid" he gave her his smile that he never truly hid.

Happy Valentine's Day everybody. Hopefully you enjoyed this tiny look into my world of cheesy comicbook romance.

First Night on the Town part 4

2010-02-12T00:17:00.000-08:00

Forcing myself awake, I stare at the three brothers. Bear has gotten up and is nursing the bump on his head. Next to him is Sydney still pulling at the whip around Davy-san’s wrist. And Davy-san of course was standing over me.

Sydney pulling on the whip again, “I said ‘Enough’, David.”

Davy-san pulls back on the whip, “No, this tight attacked Bear and I’m going to make him pay.” Nice to see the years haven’t change Davy’s need to talk like he’s in an action movie.

Nodding at me as he tightens his grip, Sydney continued, “Not a good idea, look at his chest.”

He glances at me while he continues to try and free himself, “It’s a bird, so what?”

Releasing the whip he places himself between Davy and myself, Sydney points at my chest and almost shouted, “It’s the Dove.”

Davy-san’s face goes white as he lets out a small stream of curses. Great. My father is saving me. I can’t recall what happens next only that after a few minutes I hear the van pull away, very fast. Listening to it speed away, I finally give in to injures and pass out.

The voice comes from out of nowhere, “Hey, pal wake up.” Great. Someone was watching. I was about to tell him to leave me alone so I can beat myself up when suddenly I feel like I’ve drunken to pots of coffee and shot up from the trash.

A man wearing a light blue leather outfit sitting on a motorcycle greets me with a golden staff pointed right at me. “Where’s the boy.” Who’s this guy? And why to I feel like I have a gun in my face.

I stand up and lean against the alley wall for support. The masked man leans back on his bike, but never takes his eyes or golden staff off me. Staring at him, I ask the first thing that comes to mind, “Who are you?” Thinking I add, and why do I feel invigorated?

The Masked Man leans forward and says, “No questions. Where’s the boy?”

Feeling some of my old fire burning again, I shrug my shoulders and say, “Sorry, I don’t do matchmaking.”

The Masked Man slowly leans back and says, “No jokes. Tell me now.” I finally realize the answer my last question as I hunch over in pain, my heart barely pumping.

I look a the Masked Man and finally squeeze out an answer, “I… Don’t… Know…”

Pulling his staff away from me, I feel my heart begin to beat normally. Starting up his motorcycle he gives me a dismissive glance and says, “See it wasn’t that hard. No go home. This is manly work.”

I watch him ride off before I start to climb a nearby fire escape. I’m glad to see someone on patrol, but its odd that I’ve never heard of him before.

Second Titan Thursday

2010-02-11T08:46:00.000-08:00

Yellow Tail: One of The Victor usual teamup partner and a junior member of The New York Patrol.

Real name: Miranda Wiedlin
Age: 20
Ethnic group: Caucasian
Height: 5'5"
Weight:127 lbs
Eyes: Green
Hair: Blonde
Occupation: College Student/Bounty Hunter
Abilities: Whip mastery, acrobatics, judo, lock picking, detective skills, and motorcycle acrobatics
Group affiliation: Villain Seekers, The New York Patrol (formally)

Fifth Wordy Wednesday

2010-02-10T09:50:00.000-08:00

Air: A Magical Being that draws their power from the sky.

Sixth Temporal Tuesday

2010-02-09T04:43:00.000-08:00

"[Blocked to avoid spoilers], why are you dressed like The Protector."

Whose asking and when will they ask? All will be revealed in the future.

Sixth Most Wanted Monday

2010-02-08T03:42:00.000-08:00

The Emerald Twins: The Emerald Elf's personal bodyguards/assassins, this green duo were a force to deal with. After escaping from "The Can", their current location is unknown, but they are mostly planning an escape for their employer.

Real names: Midori and Jade Inaba
Age: 25
Ethnic group: Asian-American (Thailand decent)
Marital Status: Single
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 125 lbs
Eyes: Green (may or may not be contact lenses)
Hair: Brown
Known accomplices: Emerald Elf, each other
Occupations: Hitwomen/Bodyguards
Abilities: Acrobatics, Thai kickboxing
Group affiliation: The Emerald Empire

Golden Age Sunday: Riding Sidecar Part 4

2010-02-07T02:15:00.000-08:00

Riding Sidecar
Part IV

I cra parked The Co-Champion next to some bushes, took my helmet off, and checked to make sure that my mask was on straight. I was about to throw the helmet into the seat when I realized it was my only way to contact The Victor. I could try to get the radio out, but the helmet would be destroyed. I could just carry it with me, but that would limit my mobility and leave me open to attacks.

I had finally decided to risk leaving the helmet when I sensed someone behind. Spinning to face whatever it was, I found a long brown tail waiting for me. Suppressing a giggle, I curiously stepped closer to it. Yellow Tail meet Brown Tail. I was about to reach for it when it disappeared into the trees above.

Scrunching my face, I went over what I had just seen in my head. It almost looked like a MONKEY’S. Realizing I had been tricked, I was about to turn around when I felt a sharp pain in the back of my head and heard someone laughing, “You try to catch Ateles, but Ateles catch you.” Falling to the ground, I realized I had been worrying about how to find Dorkin, when I should have been worrying about Dorkin finding me.

First Night on the Town part 3

2010-02-05T01:03:00.000-08:00

As I slam it to the muscle-bound goon I realize one thing about myself. I HATE BEING RIGHT. Getting up off the thug, I shake my head and try to figure out if I’m upright or doing a handstand. After I decide my feet are on the ground, I turn to face the other four. Sorry, I mean two. Mr. Question The Money had ran over to check on the sleeping giant while his partner, Mr. Relax had moved to block me from getting to the van. His pose seems familiar.

It starts to sink in when I hear what Mr. QTM says as he tries to wake the sleeping ugly, “Bear? Bear? Are you alright?” Bear? Glancing over at Mr. QTM, I realize he’s dressed more to give a lecture than to commit a crime with his brown vest and khakis. Syd? Turning to face Mr. Relax as he inches closer I finally notice his loose clothing and his fire filled eyes. Davy?

Shooting straight up, my pain forgotten as I stare at them. Running my eyes over each one I start to list their names, ages, and skills to myself. David, or Davy-san as he likes to be called, is the youngest brother of the three with some of the fastest reflexes I’ve ever seen. His karate isn’t anything to laugh at either. Bart, or rather the infamously known Bear, is the middle brother. He normally bench press a 1,000 pounds and is skilled in Greco-Roman wrestling. He once “roughhoused” with a baby grizzly just to say he had. Sydney is the oldest of the Tones Brothers and used to help me plan the heists, when he wasn’t studying for a history test. They’re my old crew, the Sons of Crime. All we need is Billy, and the whole gang would be here.

Davy knocks me out of memory lane with a leaping knee to the jaw. I start to fall towards trashcans behind me and don’t even try to right myself. I shouldn’t be a hero.

Davy delivers a right to the left side of my jaw, making me spit out blood. I used to lead these guys. If Sydney couldn’t stay legit, what hope do I have?

Landing in trash, I just stay there as Davy dives at me and starts beating my face in. I don’t think any of this is karate, but I don’t care. Just as I’m about to blackout, someone shouts enough and Davy stops. Peering out thro one of my black eyes I see a whip around his wrist, pulling him off me. What, the fight got too boring for you?

Second Title Thursday

2010-02-03T23:06:00.000-08:00

Other Probabilities: A book that takes a look at the PC Universe if one or more things had happened or didn't happen one way or another. Its similar to Marvel's "What If?" and DC's "Elseworlds"

Fourth Wordy Wednesday

2010-02-03T11:34:00.000-08:00

Aero: A superhuman that has some power dealing with gas or gasses.

Fifth Temporal Tuesday

2010-02-02T03:55:00.000-08:00

Okay going back to something I did two weeks ago, in fact I just do this every two weeks. Here's another history lesson from the PC Universe.

About a year after the appearance of Father Crime, a eccentric millionaire by the name Edward Mann(Mr. E. Mann) decided to try to take him down. All research into his past has proven that was in fact his real name.

Operating publicly, he tried and failed to take down the supervillain for decades. But, even though he could never take the criminal mastermind he was able to stop his criminal empire from spreading out of Europe.

Everything about Mr. E Mann's methods and looks could be explained. Even though his identity was public knowledge, he wore a mask because it allowed him to see in the dark and scan for evidence. He used a grappling gun because Father Crime legally owned most of the streets and could have charged him with trespassing. He drove a custom car because Father Crime use supped up vehicles to commit his crimes. He operated outside the law because Crime owned most of the government.

Mann retired shortly after Father Crime's disappearance but refused to comment if the two connected. Most experts believed that this would be the end of the costume beings and crazy masterminds, and other vigilantes. It would have been, if it wasn't for Nikoli Stile. But that's a story for another time.

Fifth Most Wanted Monday

2010-02-01T02:14:00.000-08:00

Last week you read about Gunner, this week you'll read about his son Gunner Reload.

Gunner Reload: The son of the first Gunner, he carries on his father's bloody legacy of murder for hire. (I'm working on the name)

Real name: Will Tell Jr.
Age: 21
Ethnic group: Caucasian
Marital status: Single
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 225 lbs
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Reddish-brown
Known accomplices: David Tones aka Davy-san, Bartholomew Tomes aka Bear, and Sydney Tones
Occupation: Hitman
Abilities: Master Marksman
Group affiliations: Sons of Crime (formally)

First Night on the Town part 2

2010-01-30T12:21:00.000-08:00

About a minute later, I’m perched on a chimney overlooking the alley where the scream came from. I’m too far up to make out much, but I could see it was two guys standing beside a white van and a third bigger man tossing the kid inside. I was also able to catch the last of the argument that the first two was having.

The first guy, standing the furthest from the van, “I still don’t like it. He’s not telling us why he needs these people.”

The second guy, leaning against the van, “Relax. We’re getting paid well for this gig. Just shut up, do as you’re told, or you’ll blow it for the rest of us.”

“I don’t care about getting paid. I just want---.” I had wanted to hear the rest of the sentence, but thought it would be better to help the kid first. Tuning them out I focus on what I’m about to do. Moving the shield from my back onto my right arm and creep onto the ledge. I’m going to take out the big guy, if I’’ have any chance at rescuing the kid. Taking a deep breath I dive off, holding the shield in front of me and bracing my right arm with my left. This is going to hurt. A LOT.

Picture of The Victor

2010-01-29T04:26:00.000-08:00

There was no good reason why I didn't update the story last week, but I do plan to update later today. Until then here's a sketch from Stephen Legend from Duck Duck's The Urban Legends and his take on The Victor.

Second Tower Thursday

2010-01-28T00:46:00.000-08:00

The Victor Statue: A life size bust of The Victor located near a playground in Central Park. It shows him protecting a small group of kids from the Emerald Elf. Under the bust is the inscription "A Hero to his last breath"

Fourth Temporal Tuesday

2010-01-26T09:23:00.000-08:00

A scene from later this year.
Set in the room of a hospital.We see Virgil is sitting in a wheelchair beside the bed of a woman in her thirties. Virgil is yelling at the woman, "Was that [removed to avoid spoilers]? Was that my father?!"

Fourth Most Wanted Monday

2010-01-25T01:37:00.000-08:00

Here's a little info on the man who killed The Victor, Gunner. He's now serving a lifetime sentence in Cheant (The Can) Prison for said murder and the known deaths of at least 132 other contract kills.

Real name: Will Tell
Age: 50
Ethnic group: Caucasian
Marital status: Widower
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 225 lbs
Known accomplices: Emerald Elf (chief employer)
Occupation: Hitman
Abilities: Master Marksman
Group affiliations: The Emerald Empire and the Spoiled Warriors(both formally)

Golden Age Sunday: Riding Sidecar Part 3

2010-01-24T04:45:00.000-08:00

Riding Sidecar
Part III

After ten minutes without a trace of the Wild Pack, The Victor parked the bike onto the top of a hill, leaned back, and just listened to the park sounds. His grin seemed unaffected from the lack of progress. It’s almost like he was enjoying the chase.

After a minute of listening to the park animals, I decided to speak up, “How can three animal people just disappear?”

The Victor glanced over at me with a toothy grin, “You really can’t stop asking questions can you?”

Before I could say anything, he continued with a laugh, “I don’t mind, the reason we can’t find them is that they know the land. This is their home. We could be here of weeks and never find them. So we had to let them find us. Isn’t that right, Dyer?”

Dyer? Turning to look in the tree that The Victor had addressed that last line to, I saw a four-foot birdlike woman covered in brown feathers and wearing a backpack. She had been standing on a branch listening to us, until The Victor pointed her out. Jumping out of the tree, she screeched a reply, “Nice trick, scaring away my birds to bring me out. But you wouldn’t bag this bird.”

Kicking starting the bike, we sped after her. After a second, I realized what she was talking about. The bike sounded a lot quieter than it had ten minutes ago. It must have a stealth mode. And The Victor hadn’t been looking for the Wild Pack, he had been making has much noise as he could.

Turning to ask why he couldn’t tell me his plan, he beat me to it; “I needed you to act natural so they won’t catch on.”

After pushing a couple of buttons on the dashboard, he jumped onto the seat and said, “Take the wheel, I’ll get Dyer.”

“Take the what??!” Trembling I reach for the handles only to notice that a set had appeared from the inside of the sidecar. Grabbing them I start to wonder what other tricks the motorcycle had. I would love to see them, if I live that long.

Trying to steer, I was barely about to stop us from slamming into a tree. From beside me, “Keep her steady. It’s just like riding a bike.”

Missing another tree, I shouted back, “Easy for you to say, why can’t you steer?”

“I needed to get the rope from my saddle. Surf’s up.”

“What?!!” Glancing over to see what he was doing, I was surprised to see that he was standing on the seat like a surfboard with a coil of rope across his chest. His grin had grown even bigger. That showed me to laugh at The Co-Champion. I just wished I know how to drive.

Almost getting the motorcycle under control and missing another tree, I hear The Victor shouting “Gotcha!!!”

Looking up I saw that he had lassoed Dyer and was trying to reel her in when he shouted, “Tree!!!”

Turning back to the front, I saw a massive tree in front of us. I couldn’t steer around it and was getting ready for the crash when I heard The Victor say, “Guess its time to test the ejector.”

“The what?” Just when I was getting used to one special feature I was going to learn of another. Something sounding like a high pressed hose kicked on and shot the sidecar and me deeper into the woods.

From inside my helmet I heard The Victor say, “Keep your eyes open for the monkey.”

“What”

“Dorkin, he’s a monkey.”

Now I wished he was giving me more information. How can I find a monkey in the middle of Central Park?

First Titan Thursday

2010-01-21T09:56:00.000-08:00

Professor Nice: A student of the occult, he was a member of The New York Patrol.

Real name: Conan Smith
Age: 25
Ethnic group: Caucasian
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 197 lbs
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Blond
Occupation: College Student
Abilities: Skilled in the occult. Able to project lighting from his hands. Emits a feeling of well being in those around him.
Group affiliations: The New York Patrol (formally)

Third Wordy Wednesday

2010-01-20T12:22:00.000-08:00

Absorber: A superhuman that has the power to soak up one or multiple types of substances.

Third Temporal Tuesday

2010-01-19T12:12:00.000-08:00

Okay for this Temporal Tuesday I wanted to do something different. Instead of giving you a random glimpse into the future, today's will focus on PC's past.

The Patrimony Universe was a lot like ours but split during World War Two. There was a soldier from the UK that almost every tactical win could be traced back to. He was able to plan for anything and anyone down to the second and would never let an enemy survive to learn from their mistakes. But after the war, because of his viciousness and his ego, his superiors give the credit to others and destroyed any prove of his time in service.

Bitter, he turned to crime. Because of his precision and the large pocket watch he carried, the press dubbed him Father Crime. Flattered, he took the name and started to wear a custom tux covered with clocks. He went on to terrorize London for three decades uncaught before disappearing without a trace. But during those decades any criminal worth their salt either worked for or died trying to replace him. Historians would later look back and mark Father Crime as the first supervillain and the first costumed person. The world was never the same.

Third Most Wanted Monday

2010-01-18T09:37:00.000-08:00

You met his brothers, Bear and Davy-san, now its time to meet Sydney.

Sydney: The thinker and heart of the Hired Guns, he works with his brothers for reasons known only to himself.

Real name: Sydney Tones
Age: 25
Ethnic group: Caucasian
Martial status: Widower
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 180 lbs
Known accomplices: His brothers Bartholomew(Bear) and David(Davy-san)
Occupation: Muscle-for-hire/former history teacher
Abilities: Whip mastery and master planner/tactician
Group affiliations: Hired Guns, Sons of Crime(formally)

Golden Age Sunday: Riding Sidecar Part 2

2010-01-17T10:52:00.000-08:00

Riding Sidecar
Part II

On Saturday I was so excited that I showed up an hour early. I hid on top of a tiny garage and waited. I do admit that I was also hoping to catch The Victor off guard and learn his identity. After all, fair is fair. It might have worked if the guy working in the garage I was on was making too much noise. I ended up the hour waving to passing pedestrians and missed The Victor showing up or so I thought.

At 10 am, the garage opened up and The Victor wheeled out his motorcycle. I noticed that he had added a yellow sidecar to it. Without even looking up at me, he said, “Okay let’s try her out.” I guess I really do need to work on my stealth.

I tried to hide my surprise, “Wait, you were the guy making all the racket?”

Gesturing at the sidecar like he was showing off a new car, “Just putting the finishing touches on The Crimson Sentinel’s new feature, The Co-Champion.”

Flipping off the garage, I landed just in front of the motorcycle. I gave The Co-Champion a quick unimpressed glance, and turned to The Victor, “A sidecar? Is that my big surprise?”

Getting on his bike, The Victor again gestured at the sidecar, “It’s more than just a sidecar. Hop in and I’ll show you. Your helmet is in the seat.”

Climbing in, I looked at my helmet. It was golden with a face of a squirrel on the visor. The helmet was polished and the paint had just dried. The detail was amazing, if I didn’t know better I would say The Victor had spend as much time on this that he had on The Co-Champion.

I put the helmet on and I looked up at The Victor; he had just put his helmet, it was crimson with a clear capital V on the visor. He was also wearing his trademark grin. Why did he do this? Not just the teamup, but also the whole hero thing.

Before I could continue with my thoughts, they were shattered by a booming voice in my helmet. “Attention all units, the Wild Pack are robbing the Tenth Ave Pantry.”

The Victor kick started the bike and pulled out onto the street. Trying to find something to hold onto as The Victor made a hard right, I asked, “Okay, what was that? And who are the Wild Pack?”

Giving a slight giggle The Victor answered, “More questions, I see. Well the first one is simple, just the police band, the helmets are designed to pickup any call for backup in a twenty block radius. As for the second, it’s kind of complicated. It’s less of who and more of what. The Wild Pack is a group of animal enthusiasts that have spliced their DNA with that a various animals. They are distrustful of anyone that isn’t part of their group, but they normally don’t venture out of their hideout unless they’re short on supplies. Stay out of their way and they usually stay out of yours.”

After that The Victor went quiet and focused on ducking in and out of traffic. I didn’t mind because I wanted to think over what he said. He seemed big on the exposition giving. Not that I minded, my dad once spent an hour explaining the history of New York Library. I remember Blue Be Dad talking about the Wild Pack before, but only to say that he didn’t want to face them alone.

About two minutes later, we pulled in front of Tenth Street Pantry and parked. The entrance was caved in, like someone had driven a car through it. Police were trying to keep away the crowd of onlookers, but turned to look at us. I suddenly felt exposed. I looked at The Victor to see what to do. He just waved at the crowd then folded his arms and lazily leaned back on his seat. I quickly tried to do the same, but the crowd just ignored me and just stared at The Cheerful Champion.

After a minute, a young officer in his early twenties walked over to us. The Victor sat up, looked straight at him, and said, “Rogers, right? Mind giving me the rundown on what happened?”

The officer to a formal stance and rattled off an answer, “Yes, Sir! Three members of the Wild Pack smashed though the front and took off with over $5,000 in food!”

The Victor laughingly said, “At ease, soldier. Did the Mr. Felder see which members it was? Or the direction they went?”

Rogers relaxed, a little, and said, “He said it was Dyer, Dorkin, and Geda. They went east towards Central Park.”

Kick starting the bike, The Victor said, “Very good. Thanks for the assist Rogers; I’ll make sure Officer Huntre hears about it. Let the officers in pursuit know to back off, don’t try to follow them into the park.”

As The Victor pull The Crimson Sentinel out of the parking lot, my mind went over the crowd and what the officer said. They had acted better in front of The Victor than I did. The crowd had been in awe and the officer had acted like The Victor was a superior officer. I know that the Hero Law gave us some freedom, but that was different. The Victor acted like it wasn’t a big deal, but knowing the names of both the owner and a random officer just show that to him it is. I don’t know who Officer Huntre was, but if The Victor wanted me to he would tell me, in great detail.

Turning my thoughts to the Wild Pack, I realized that they must rob this place a lot if the owner knows them by sight. What could they have used on the door? Rogers said the front door was smashed but there wasn’t any tire tracks on the ground. The Victor said they spliced their DNA with animals, but what animal could smash a steel door?

The Victor broke into my thoughts with a shout, “Why couldn’t they have listened?”

Looking up ahead us, I saw two demolished cop cars torn across the entrance of Central Park. A couple of officers were hanging from a few trees, battered but alive. Feeling like I might regret it, I asked, “Whoa, what happened.”

The Victor hopped off the bike and walked over to check on the cops, “Geda. Or as he likes to call himself, Lox.” After getting the cops onto the ground and giving them an all clear, he got back onto The Crimson Sentinel, and headed into the park. I didn’t know that The Victor had medical training. Maybe a hint to his secret identity.

As we rode into the park, I got a sudden chill. I hadn’t thought that that the Wild Pack would be easy to take down, but now I wasn’t sure if they could be.

First Night on the Town

2010-01-15T00:15:00.000-08:00

It's late, so this is what I have so far.

First Night on the Town
The echo of my scream greets me as I swing my legs off the hammock. I listen for any reaction to my waking. No just the regular sounds. Mr. & Mrs. Mowrey in 6I is arguing about his cheating. He’s not; he just doesn’t want her to know that he’s addicted to the retro arcade shop that just opened up down the street. Paige Paige, yes that’s her real name, was taking care of her little bundle of screams down stairs. I hope I’m not the reason for the midnight singing. The city is giving the normal performance of sirens, combating music, and colorful language. I was awakened by the nightmare. By that memory.

Before I can let my thoughts continue I realize my hands are cramping and my lungs are burning. Releasing my breath and my grip, I land on the ground with a silent thud. Glancing over to the couch, I breathe a sigh of relief that Mom took Henri for the weekend. Last thing I need is to keep him up with my nightmares.

I walk over to the dresser and look up at the picture of the three of us at The Victorious Hero, right after I got back of New Orleans. No more putting it off. I shove the dresser towards the door, hoping this will work. Otherwise I will get a reaction from the neighbors.

The wheels I added move the dresser smoothly until the rope stops it just short of the door. I check to see if the rope can take the strain again. Good, it can. I lean to check to see if the freed floor safe has been tampered with.

Satisfied I stand up and reach under the picture for the key, my eye catching the small print on the bottom, ‘Familia Primus’. I nod inward to myself and repeat the promise to myself. Always family first, nothing else matters.

I crouch over the safe, inserting the key and placing my thumb on the handle’s scanner in one fluid motion. After turning the key and typing in the seven-digit code, I open the safe and look at the third and forth most important things in my life, my uniform and the journals. Which story will Henri want to hear when he comes back? The Thief Wars? Or maybe Coming Home? After pulling out the uniform I quickly close and lock the safe.

I stare at the bundle for a minute, not believing what I am about to do. The shirt is dark blue and has a giant dove on the chest, the wings reaching into the back in almost a hugging gesture, the wing tips almost touching. That wasn’t in my design, maybe its Dad attempt to be close to me. Shaking off the thoughts of family, I quickly get dressed.

I walk back to the picture and flip it over, revealing the mirror on the back. I look confused at my reflection. I stand wearing the uniform with dark blue gloves and boots, my dark hair flowing over my shoulders. What, why can I see my hair?

Then it hits me. You forget the mask, Virgil. I quickly take the shirt off, put my hair in a ponytail, and tape it between my shoulder blades. Can’t believe I forgot the mask. Bet The Victor never would have.

After making sure I have enough give so I don’t yank out hair, I put on the mask. Its reflective eyes and dark blue skin greet me as I look in the mirror. I muse over my mistake as I put the shield on to my arm. How can I be a symbol of peace and justice, if I’m making mistake before I’m even out on patrol.

I look down at the blue round shield, the bird in the center matches the one on my chest. Running my hand over the rim I look over at my desk and again nod to myself. Guess I’ll have to believe in what Teach taught me: ‘Bluff, luck, and raw talent when you have it.’

It’s time I stop stalling and make my move. I look over my apartment one last time. Hopefully I’ll be back. I walk to the door and start to run towards the side window, sliding the shield onto my back. I dive out the window barely slipping past as I aim for the rooftop below. Watch out New York, here I come.

Running across the rooftops, I test the flexibility of the uniform, leapfrogging over chimneys, flipping through clotheslines, and generally having fun, I should have done this much sooner. Landing on the nearest chimney, I look over the city. So where to start?

From somewhere nearby I hear, “Get away from me! Help!!! So---” Gotta love this city. Time to be a hero.

I head towards where I think the cry came from, listening for anything that will tell me if I’m right. Nothing. The cry belongs to a kid, can’t be any older than ten. Thick Brooklyn accent, what he doing in HK? Guess I’ll have to ask him.

First Title Thursday

2010-01-14T11:55:00.000-08:00

Back2Back: A teamup book like DC's Brave and the Bold and Marvel's Marvel Team-up. The name comes from the fighting style most two man teams perform, fighting herds of bad guys with their backs together.

Second Wordy Wednesday

2010-01-13T10:44:00.000-08:00

3T Rooms: Rooms that the W.H.O. use for training and recreation.

Second Temporal Tuesday

2010-01-12T02:58:00.000-08:00

Future Storyline:

Comic: Earth: Threshold for E.T. and other Aliens
Summary: The Van Decan invade Earth, and the only hope for survival maybe the new mystery man guarding the heroes.
Year: Two

Second Most Wanted Monday

2010-01-10T22:53:00.000-08:00

You met Bear last week. Time to meet his brother Davy-san.

Davy-san: The violent leader of the Hired Guns, he sells his karate expertise and his brothers' skills to anyone willing to pay.

Real name: David Tones
Age: 25
Ethnic group: Caucasian
Martial status: Single
Height: 5'8"
Weight: 170 lbs
Known accomplices: His brothers Bartholomew(Bear) and Sydney
Occupation: Muscle-for-hire
Abilities: Karate Master with near borderline superhuman reflexes
Group affiliations: Hired Guns, Sons of Crime(formally)

Golden Age Sunday: Riding Sidecar Part 1

2010-01-10T01:55:00.000-08:00

Okay, here it is. The first Golden Age story. This follows Yellow Tail during her first teamup with The Victor.

Riding Sidecar
Part I

I sat on the edge of one of my favorite rooftops watched the sunset as I toyed with my whip. Dad was out of town doing work for Stile, and all my enemies were in jail. After patrolling for an hour after school, I had only found a purse-snatcher, and he handed it back as soon as he saw me. Bored without a case, I was planning to head back home when I saw him, The Victor.

He was dressed in a crimson bodysuit and half mask, and even though his back was to me chances were that he was also wearing his trademark grin. He was climbing a tree reaching for something. I didn’t know what until I heard him speak, his deep but gentle voice floated up to me, “Don’t worry Molly, I’ll get Cuddles.” He really does get cats out of trees.

I was trying to figure out who Molly was, when I saw the little girl. It wasn’t surprising that I had missed her. The angle from the roof had given me a good view of the street, but the girl was tiny enough to blend into the base of the tree until I looked for her. She was only five maybe six wearing a pink dress.

I ran down a few rooftops and swung across the street. I then ran up the rooftops until I was standing on what I guessed to Molly’s apartment building, all that took me less than a minute. If you’re wondering why I sneaked up on The Victor instead of just letting him know I was there, the answer was simple. The Victor is a legend, and I wanted to know if what I had heard was true or just stories and I could only do that with him unaware that I was there.

In the time I had gotten onto the roof, The Victor had climbed down the tree and handed her a large black ball of fur that could only be Cuddles. The Victor was now leaning on the tree talking to Molly. “Now Molly, I know you love to play with Cuddles, but you can’t do it outside.”

Molly had been hugging Cuddles, but had stopped when The Victor had started talking. Shaking her head, she said, “But he likes the outside.”

The Victor stepped away from tree now, “Molly, you know that’s not true. Every time you let him out he runs straight up that tree and won’t come down. The city scares him, so unless you want to his fur to turn white, you have to keep him inside. Now promise me Molly, that I’m not going to have to get him again.”

Molly sadly nodded and said, “Okay, I promise.”

The Victor produced a lollipop out of nowhere. His sleight of hand is impressive. “Good girl, here’s a lollipop. Now get inside, it’s getting dark.”

Molly again nodded and started to head inside. So he is good with kids too, I thought.

The Victor got onto his crimson motorcycle, The Crimson Sentinel I think, and was waved goodbye at Molly. I pulled my whip out, from the corner of my eye, I could see Molly waving goodbye as I swung after The Victor. I thought if I followed him something was bound to happen.

As I swung into a dead end alleyway I realize just one problem with this. I had forgotten whom I was following. Looking around the alley for someway that he could have given me the slip, I heard a voice from behind me say, “You may want to work on your stealth.”

I turned around to see The Victor leaning back on his bike with his arms crossed a smile on his face, “How can I help, Miss Tail?”

I tried to stutter a reply, “I… I… I…” Okay, so I was a little star struck. I lied a little when I said my reason for sneaking around was to see if he was what he pretended to be. I did want to see if the stories were true, but this was also the first time I had came face to face with a hero this famous. I mean he’s even a celebrity in the masked community.

Without skipping a beat The Victor responded, “You… You… You don’t need to be nervous, Miss Tail. I don’t mean to sound rude, but I do need to be somewhere. Just give me the lowdown and I’ll help anyway I can.”

Suddenly I felt like I was in the principle’s office. Looking down and shuffling my feet I said, “I don’t have a case at the moment, but I thought if I followed you something was bound to happen.” I stopped looking at ground and stared straight at The Victor, “Please, can I tagalong?”

To my surprise The Victor tossed me a helmet and said, “Get on. We can talk about it on the way.” On the way to where, I thought as I got onto the back of the motorcycle.

I held on to The Victor for dear life, trying to stay calm as we rode down the streets. This was my first ride on a motorcycle. I was blushing, but only a little, I mean I was ridding on the back of The Crimson Sentinel, with The Victor. The Victor on the other hand was very relaxed and was talking like we were in his kitchen even as we dodged back and forth between traffic, “Like I said, I have to be somewhere tonight and tomorrow is a school day. So Saturday will have to do.”

Not knowing what was going on I decided to ask a few questions, “Do for what? Hey, how can we even hear each other? And where are we going?”

For a second I thought maybe I shouldn’t be bugging the guy keeping us from slamming into a truck, but The Victor just answered the questions as he took another turn and stopped at a red light, “ Always asking questions, just like your father. Well, in the order you asked: our teamup, there’s a hidden mikes in the lining of the helmet and my mask, and your home.”

“You know where I live?!! Wait, our team up?!!”

Shaking his head with a small laugh, “Yes our teamup. Your father speaks very highly of you, and I had been looking forward to working with you for sometime. Sooner, is better than later.” He is as good as I had heard; I just hoped that he didn’t notice me blushing even more.

The Victor took one more turn and we stopped in front of a construction site. Looking around, I rattled off more questions, “Why are we stopping here? I thought were taking me home. And how do you know where I live?”

The Victor glanced over his shoulder giving me a small grin, “Again with the questions? Okay, this time in the opposite order you asked. Sauce makes your father talk, and I figured you don’t want your neighbors finding out that you are secretly Yellow Tail, the Wiry Teen.”

Pointing to the far end of the site he continued, “There’s the alley behind your apartment, so you should be able duck into room, away from prying eyes.”

After I got off the bike, I was about to ask more questions when The Victor beat me to it, “Oh yeah, our teamup. Meet me Saturday at the corner of Simon and Chambers, around 10 am, I should have a surprise for you.”

As I was hiding my suit and gear in the back of my closet, I thought over what The Victor had said. Blue Beak... I mean Dad had let The Victor find out our secrets identities. I’m going to have to find someway to fix that. He also said he was looking forward to working with me. Why would the famous Crimson Crusader want to work with me? I hope Dad didn’t tell him all our secrets.

After I got ready for bed, I looked up the address that The Victor had given me. Turns out it’s a junkyard, weird. Even weirder was that the junkyard was owned by a charity organization called Winning Back Our Streets. Well I get to work with The Victor; I just had to wait a few more days.

Issue 0: Golden Till The End

2010-01-08T02:19:00.000-08:00

From 1987 to 2002, Manhattan was under the ever-vigilant eye of The Victor. With his trademark grin, trickster mind, acrobatic skills, and his never-ending optimism, The Crimson Crusader faced gangs, disasters, supervillains, and the odd cat stuck in the tree. It would have stayed that way if I hadn’t stopped him.

I watch as he, in his trademark crimson bodysuit and half mask, reaches down from a tree and hands a kitten down to a little girl.

I watch as he waves goodbye to a pair of police officers and a tied up and very unhappy robber, and rides off on his crimson motorcycle. The robber is tied to a light pole and his would-be loot is sitting on his head.

I watch as he, covered in soot, hands a baby to their tearful mother. The firefighters work to contain the building he was just in.

I watch as he just stands in his iconic hands on hips pose, not even entering the dark alley, and sends the pair of thugs into a panic.

I watch as he stands on a float flashing his trademark grin and waving at his cheering fans.

The Victor was loved by children, praised by the police, adored by parents, feared by criminals and celebrated by all.

Well, maybe not all. In the corner of my eye I see a dark green skinned man with pointed ears and long snow-white hair wearing a black business suit glaring at the parade and its celebrated hero.

I see now that Emerald Elf, the Architect of Bedlam, isn’t alone. Behind him is his team The Spectrum of Evil.

The femme fatale with the short black hair in the blood red bodysuit is the much-feared Red Rouge, the Thorny Thief. Standing next to her is a pale frail looking woman in Victorian dress with striking white hair. She could only be Silver Sage, the Murderous Mystic. Towering beside her is a huge dark skinned man of muscles wearing Viking body armor. The Destructive Giant, Blue Barbarian, be he. And finally the militaristic looking man in the Nazi uniform can only be White Warrior, the Fist of Fascism.

I shake with fear, The Spectrum of Evil didn’t take lightly to the Cheerful Champion stopping their various scheming and acts of criminal intentions. From plugging up White Warrior’s plans to purify the city to catching Red Rogue during her latest medieval heist, The Victor was there to stop them. From outsmarting Blue Barbarian during one of his many destructive rampages to defeating one of Silver Sage’s rituals with a last minute save, The Victor was there. No matter where the Spectrum turned The Victor was always stood between them and success.

I watch as they attack the parade. White Warrior is holding the police at bay; Blue Barbarian is cutting down lamppost; Silver Sage is starting fires with her umbrella; Red Rouge is throwing daggers at the hot air balloons; and Emerald Elf is just leaning on his cane, enjoying the chaos. The only thing that got The Spectrum to work together was their complete hatred of the Agile Guardian.

Normally together The Spectrum of Evil wasn’t a match for him, but now they had the element of surprise. I watch helplessly as they corner against the very float he was ridding on moments ago. Each member The Spectrum has a weapon ready to give the killing blow. Emerald Elf has sparks coming off his cane; Red Rogue is twirling a pair of throwing knives; Silver Sage has spell on her lips; Blue Barbarian has his axe raised; and White Warrior is aiming his gun.

I wonder why The Victor is surprisingly calm and what exactly he is pointing at behind. I suddenly feel a ping of hope as The Spectrum looks in horror at the lighting, arrows, throwing knives, and a whip strike the ground at their feet. Of course, when The Victor couldn’t defeat them alone he would turn to his team, The New York Patrol. I see them now standing behind him.

Professor Nice, Student of the Occult, is the preppy looking man in the grey vest and tan khakis with the blank white stare. Light N. Blue, The Walking Battery, stands just left of him, her smooth skin sky blue skin in the bright white power suit giving her away, if not the electricity crackling from her hands would have. Quiver, The Arrow Queen, stands just off to the right from them wearing her dark purple bodysuit and bandanna mask, her namesake bag resting on her shoulder and aiming her bow with one of her many trick arrows. Just over her left shoulder, I can see a man in a light blue bodysuit holding a fistful of throwing knives. He’s wearing a cowl shaped like a bird’s beak, makes sense since he can only the Avian Guardian, Blue Beak. And if there was any doubt of who he was it would be destroyed by the appearance of the teenage girl in the light yellow bodysuit and squirrel mask, his young partner The Wiry Teen, Yellow Tail, twirling her whip. If The Victor needed help he didn’t need to look far.

I watch as The Spectrum is led into prison vans, with The New York Patrol looking on. At the end of the line I see Emerald Elf laughing. I begin the shake and sweat again. Despite all his talents and allies, The Victor wasn’t able to keep that Merchant of Mischief Emerald Elf behind bars for more than a minute.

In fact, of all The Victor’s enemies, Emerald Elf was the worst. I watch as he leaps backwards from the police van, laughing his maniacal laugh. In the van, I can see the charred remains of the two prison guards.

I watch he sells the small bags of the lush green meta-drug Ambrosia to a crowd of dope-eyed teenagers.

I watch as he walks grinningly away from an exploding police station.

I watch him laugh as shots a father of two dead, the new orphans holding each other and sobbing.

I watch as he stands at the head of a table surrounded by his men and divide up the city.

I watch as he grinningly kills one of his men just to shock the others into line.

He killed police by the hundreds, destroyed families, unified parts of the criminal underworld, and generally feared by those around him. Except of course by The Victor. I watch as The Cunning Caviler lands on the table and confront Emerald Elf, who has a look of delight, not fear, on his face.

I watch Emerald Elf and his men being led into a prison van. So the game continued, The Victor would capture that Wily Imp.

I watch as Emerald Elf walks away from a flaming prison van. And that Murderous Madman would escape to spread chaos for another day.

I watch as Emerald Elf converses with a group of cloaked figures. That is until Emerald Elf and his new found allies decided to change the rules.

The Victor, battered and bleeding, shoves me out of the way of the shotgun blast, screaming, “VIRGIL NO!!!” as he takes the bullets meant for me. I awake covered in sweat screaming the name of my beloved; my violent rising tosses the hammock from side to side, threatening to come off the doorway. I awaking screaming, “Queenie!!!”

First Tower Thursday

2010-01-07T00:44:00.000-08:00

Adriana's: A restaurant & bar ran by the owner Kevin Smith (not that Smith) located in Harlem. It is built in the style of a Spanish hacienda and stands two stories tall. Near the waiting room are two shrines one to Adriana, Kevin's late wife, and and the other to Gquen, his late daughter.

First Wordy Wednesday

2010-01-05T22:49:00.000-08:00

From the PC Encyclopedia:

3T (Touch, Tone, Texture) Technology: Projected holographic images that look, feel, and sound like the real thing

First Temporal Tuesday

2010-01-04T22:30:00.000-08:00

Okay here's a scene from Year Three

Trenchcoat, "I'll need some candles."
Selma walks over across the room and stands next to a large cabinet. Opening it up asks, "What kind?"
Moving out of the way to gather some supplies, I can see the cabinet is filled with candles of every size, shape, and color imaginable.

First Most Wanted Monday

2010-01-04T11:05:00.000-08:00

Bear: As cruel as he is simple, this once promising lineman is the muscle for the Hired Guns.

Real name: Bartholomew Tones
Age: 25
Ethnic group: Caucasian
Martial status: Single
Height: 6'8
Weight: 350 lbs
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Brown
Known accomplices: His brothers David(Davy-san) and Sydney
Occupation: Muscle-for-hire/former linebacker
Abilities: Can bench press 1,000 lbs and skilled in wrestling
Group affiliations: Hired Guns, Sons of Crime(formally)

The Schedule

2010-01-04T00:21:00.000-08:00

The PC Universe will be updated on a set schedule. There will be an event everyday, ending with new story at the end of the week.

The events will be:
Golden Age Sunday: A series of cliffhangers set in the Golden Age. They will be about The Victor, but told by whomever he's teamed up with.
Most Wanted Monday: A look at some of the most wanted supercriminals in the PC Universe.
Temporal Tuesday: A sneak peak into future story lines or scenes.
Wordy Wednesday: A word from the PC Encyclopedia

Because I have very little of the following, I've decided to rotate them ever three weeks.
Tower Thursday: A look at important locations from the PC Atlas.
Title Thursday: A look at a comic that I will be doing, eventually,.
Titan Thursday: A look at a hero from the PC's Golden Age.

And finally the main event:
Update Friday: A continuation of the PC Universe story.

Virgil: The Man Under The Mask

2010-01-03T01:21:00.000-08:00

Just like my last post, this a repost from my old blog that has been updated for the new changes I have planned.

Before I start telling the stories, I thought I would tell you a little about Virgil. The best way to describe him is that he is a pacifist with access to nuclear weapons. The pacifist part is literal, but the nukes are figural, but no less lethal. He wasn't always so easygoing, being a hellraiser in his youth, but events in his life changed his views. One such event haunts him everyday.

He hates guns, and believes heavily in gun control. He has a nanadan rank in Aikido, but tries to talk his way out before using it. And he never fights in front of his son, Henri, (pronounced Henry). He splits his time between his son and mother, Alicia, helping his neighbors, and working as a private investigator/security consultant. He considers himself an Independent Investigator, and tries to avoid taking unsavory cases, while working mostly pro bono. And he doesn't date because he views himself as a danger to women.

One final thing to know about Virgil is that he is trying to be the everyman, but he can't be. He has too many things that set him apart from the everyday person and the least is that he's a masked crimefighter.

What's To Come/Why to Read

2010-01-02T00:28:00.000-08:00

For those who've read my old blog, this is pretty much the same post over there, just updated.

I plan on using this blog to test out some stories I'm writing for my own comic universe. They will range from cats in trees to planet conquering aliens. I'm a big fan of play on world and mysteries; so anything from the name of a character to what they say, may hint at something to come. This universe is set in modern times but has Silver Age themes, so many stories will range from tongue in cheek to dead series.

Now the first year in the comics will focus on Virgil Huntre who is about to bring the Silver Age to life. This year also focuses on Nikoli Stile, a walking legend famous for starting the Era of Heroes, and The Victor, a crimefighter who started the Golden Age and whose death also ended it.

Like I said before this is for stories I'm writing, I can't even draw stick figures, so your welcome to submit your own takes on the descriptions. If I like yours and want to use it in my comics, I'll credit for your work and try to find someway to repay you, with a tribute character, some kind of public announcement, or something else.

Now for the reason you should care. I want your honest opinions. Are the stories lame? Did I tell a story in ten chapters that could have been told in five or less? Even tiny things. Did I misspell a word? Did I misuse a word? Did I use a ten dollar word when a dime word would have worked? This is an interactive process, so your opinions will have effect on the way I tell the stories.

Stay tuned for the first story. And please give your opinions.

My Comic Universe, Take Two

2010-01-01T01:29:00.000-08:00

I'm slowly taking down my old blog DaniAllie Universe and reposting the information here and on other blogs that will come out of this. The difference to the old blog include writing it like a book and updating it on time. The first post will come tomorrow, Saturday, and continue everyday until the new schedule is set up, and then it will be everyday, but oddly enough, Saturday. Good luck to anyone who tries to follow me and hopefully this will not become another headache.