First Night on the Town

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

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

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

Second Temporal Tuesday

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

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

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

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!!!”