Hello [ Guest ] . Please Login or Register.
Apr 30th, 2017 at 07:58 am
Send This Topic To A Friend Print

Click here to disable ads!


Fallen Angel - (Read 144 Times)
 
+Share
grent
the Grentacular


Member is offline

DOOT

Send PM


Posts: 4,825
Post Icon Posted: Dec 13th, 2015 at 01:12 am

BLAST FROM THE PAST MOTHERFUCKERS. Wanna read about characters who aren't even here anymore? HERE'S THE PLACE TO DO IT.

Chapter 1: Impact
Many ancient civilizations believed that a falling star signaled an angel falling from Heaven to Earth; on this night, however, the "star" plummeting from the sky bore something far more sinister. As the meteorite broke apart in the atmosphere, something within it awakened. The heat of entry restarted a series of chemical reactions previously suspended by the coldness of space. Slowly at first, but gradually quickening, neural impulses (or something akin to them) became apparent within the mysterious substance in the meteor's core. By the time the previously space-faring rock collided with the ground, an almost fully-functional being had been reborn from what was minutes before nothing more than debris floating about in space. The crater formed by the impact was massive, especially relative to the small organism which now slowly escaped from its recently space-faring prison. Nevertheless, the "angel" freed itself and made its way up to the rim of the crater long before any of the residents of its newly found home stumbled upon the gaping hole that signaled its arrival.
The team had been at the crater for approximately an hour when the man in red goggles discovered the meteor. It wasn't particularly large; its length was no more than the size of the average Brawler's forearm, and its diameter was roughly the same as that of the head of the man examining it. There was a palm-sized hole in its side, revealing a smooth, hollow interior, this last fact being of much interest to the man continuing to stare at the piece of space debris.
"Dr. Wut," he called to a woman investigating a nearby part of the crater, "I believe I've found out crater-forming agent."
"So it wasn't McJesus after all," Dr. Wut said to herself. The Geological Investigation Team, along with everyone else in the Void, knew that the vast majority of the craters in the region were the direct result of the super-powered inhabitants of the whitewashed world. The Brawlers, as they were called, often engaged in "Brawls" in the huge, white field outside the largest (and, quite possibly, the only) city in the region, Brawl City. The motives for such battles varied depending on the Brawlers involved; some fought for fame and fortune, others fought for fun and stress relief, and a select few fought for such personal reasons as revenge. Regardless of the reason a Brawl was started, one thing could almost always be counted on: massive collateral damage. When outside the city limits, this damage, at first glance, was indistinguishable from geological events, meaning Geological Investigation Team was almost always sent on wild goose chases. Intrigued by the possibility of a legitimate geological find, the doctor made a small jump and slid down the side of the crater to meet up with her teammate.
"So what've we got, Ghost?" she asked the man staring at the meteor.
"It's... unusual at best," he replied, "The outer part is a dense material that, in actuality, is closer to pure metal than rock."
"So? It's uncommon, yeah, but on my 'wierdness scale,' that doesn't even rank 'slightly odd,' let alone 'unusual.' "
"That's not the unusual part, this is," Ghost said, pointing towards the hole in the rock. "It's hollow on the inside, much too smooth to be a space geode. On top of that, this hole looks like it was caused by internal pressure."
"You mean you think something pushed its way out?" Dr. Wut made it a point to keep an open mind (the Void was known for its highly unlikely events, after all), but the idea that an organism could survive inside a rock in space for an extended period of time, continue to be functional, and not be completely destroyed when the meteor carrying it entered the atmosphere and crashed into the ground was far-fetched even for this world.
The two members of the Geological Investigation Team were so focused on the find that they didn't notice a third member of the team approach.
"Weird as it sounds, I think that's right," the third teammate said. Dr. Wut and Ghost both looked up at the figure almost simultaneously. Like many brawlers, he appeared to be mostly human (two eyes, two ears, two legs, and such), but with a few very noticeable exceptions: two purple pincers extended from his shoulderblades, and he had a long tail tipped with a scorpion's stinger. Dr. Wut was secretly glad that the majority of the Geological Investigation Team's assignments occurred during daylight; the insect-like appendages produced a terrifying effect at night when there was no light to illuminate the kindness in the man's face.
"What do you mean, Scorpion?" Dr. Wut asked.
"Please, Doctor, call me Tristian outside of Brawls. Anyways, I saw a path over there that looks like it was formed by something dragging itself up the side of the crater."
"Do you have any proof that whatever made that path didn't fall in after the crater was formed?" Dr. Wut asked.
Tristian smiled. "I'm an archaeologist, Doctor, not a scientist. I never have proof; I just make guesses based on what little evidence I can gather. In this case, it looks like something came out of that rock and crawled up to the top of this crater."
"As far as I see it, that's out best theory so far," Ghost said. "Based on the size of the crater, the meteor was significantly more massive upon impact than it is now, there is an indication that something forced the rock open from the inside, and Tristian found a trail leading out of the crater." He looked at Dr. Wut from behind his thick, red goggles. "It sounds like something got out."
"Alright then," Dr. Wut said. "Let's find it. Do we have any leads?"
"Well, the trail stops at the top of the crater, but there were some footprints nearby," Tristian noted. "Maybe if we find out who they belong to, their owner might be able to tell us something."
"No need to look too far for the originator of the tracks. I found this on our way into the crater," Ghost said, producing a red card from his pocket.
"Well then, Tristian, I need you to send Calamity down here to help us out," Dr Wut said, taking the card and examining it. "Then go find Inu. This could be very, very dangerous."
Report Post IP Logged



Click here to disable ads!


grent
the Grentacular


Member is offline

DOOT

Send PM


Posts: 4,825
Post Icon Posted: Dec 13th, 2015 at 01:14 am

ONE POST AT A TIME, AS IT WAS MEANT TO BE.

Chapter 2: Descent
The "angel" that fell from the sky some 10 minutes earlier was nearing the top of the crater created by what had previously been its prison when something nearby made a noise. Some creature was walking just above the crater, close enough that the angel could feel its footsteps through the ground. The creeping angel moved more slowly now, but still headed for the source of the footsteps: a small, centipede-like creature that had risen from underground, disoriented by the recent impact. The oversized insect was known as a voidworm, a species of animals in the Void known to burrow several thousands of meters underground. Unfortunately for this one, the voidworms were almost completely helpless above ground, so there was nothing it could do when the angel pounced. Within moments, the voidworm was overtaken by the extraterrestrial being. The angel, however, had only moments to revel in its triumph when it sensed the footsteps of a much larger creature approaching.

Tristian approached the Geological Investigation Team's trailer near the top of the crater. He never really understood why the team needed a trailer, let alone why Doc Wut insisted upon taking it to every site they investigated. The trailer was equipped with everything needed for a year-long excavation, but the longest assignment the team was ever given lasted five hours (most of which involved the team untangling themselves from three hundred pounds of licorice, but that's another story). The only two things the team ever used it for were to take refuge from abnormally averse weather conditions and to store their lunches. As raccoons were not falling from the sky, Tristian assumed Calamity was using the trailer for the latter, an assumption which he confirmed as he entered the trailer and saw Calamity taking a bite out of a roast beef sandwich.
Tristian, along with hundreds of others, had always been fascinated by Calamity's sandwiches. Calamity, who controlled earth and plants, felt that he could not eat plants out of what he called "professional courtesy," so he used a special bread made from meat. No one except Calamity knew exactly how this bread was made or what was in it; many scientists had performed tests on pieces of it, but the only discovery unanimously agreed upon was that it "tastes like chicken" (to quote Doc Wut from her article "What the Hell is this Crap?" featured in Totally Scientific Journal, volume 13, issue 37). Calamity waved to Tristian as he chewed his mysterious meal.
"Wath up?" he asked through the half-eaten bite of meat sandwich.
"The Doc needs your help," Tristian responded. "We think we might actually have something this time."
"Coo," Calamity responded, then swallowed the food in his mouth. "I'll be out in a minute."
With that, Tristian left the trailer and headed for Brawl City. Calamity, meanwhile, finished his sandwich quickly and headed into the crater to meet up with his teammates. He greeted them cheerfully, as he often did when his stomach was full.
"So I hear we might actually be doing something interesting today! Whatcha need from me?"
"We need an earthquake scan." Doc Wut replied. The technique she referred to involved Calamity using his control over earth on a very large scale to cause a controlled earthquake. Similar to a bat's echolocation, Calamity could then feel the waves from the quake and tell what lied buried underground nearby. Although this was the first time it had been used for a mission, Calamity's earthquake scan had been used in the past to uncover valuable buried artifacts (which the GIT sold to museums and private collectors to finance their operations).
Doc Wut and Ghost sat down as Calamity crouched on one knee and placed his hands on the ground. The void began to tremble, barely noticeable at first, but slowly evolving into an intense quake that could be sensed miles away. After a few minutes, Ghost looked up at Calamity. Something was wrong; the scan was longer and more intense than usual, and Calamity's face showed a clear trace of confusion along with his usual deep concentration. Ghost became worried as the earthquake became more and more violent. He was no longer able to sit on the ground; instead, he bounced up and down like a small child in an inflatable house. Even Tristian, already nearly a mile away from the crater, was having trouble standing. Calamity's face became more and more strained as the ground shook harder an harder. The ground began to crack.
"Calamity!" Doc Wut yelled, breaking him out of his trance-like focus on the scan.
"Sorry..." Calamity said weakly, raising a hand to his head. Even he was surprised at the magnitude of the quake. He slowly rose, still dizzy from exerting himself so much.
"Obviously you found something rather interesting," Doc Wut said, "care to share with the class?"
"Voidworm tunnels," he said, still quite winded.
"Surely you wouldn't have wasted all that energy mapping out the tunnels for fun, though," Ghost said. "What was so interesting about them?"
"No voidworms," Calamity replied, still lacking the breath for a witty retort (though a few had come to mind). "Checked for a whole cubic mile. Found nothing."
Doc Wut and Ghost looked at each other in shock. Voidworms were the most populous species in the Void, and in spite of the fact that a single nest could have thousands of miles of underground tunnels extending from it, an active nest had a worm on average every three to five feet. An entire cubic mile of empty tunnels was unheard of, and as the voidworm had few natural predators, the doctor couldn't think of anything that could possibly have cleared that large of an area without completely obliterating the tunnels.
"You sure it wasn't disease? Or something a long time ago?" Ghost asked. Ever the skeptic, Ghost never believed anything until all possible alternatives had been investigated, which made him invaluable to the team. Doc Wut had, admittedly, been rather surprised when she had first met him outside of a Brawl; in combat, Ghost was known for his unique fighting style that implemented elements of fencing, capoeira, and schizophrenia. The doctor had always assumed he was actually insane (as was not uncommon for Brawlers) before he demonstrated his knack for critical analysis and his eye for detail.
"Yeah," Calamity responded, at long last regaining his breath, "they made some repairs after our unidentified plummeting object here made its ever so graceful landing here. Even if there were a new worm superflu that could kill them that fast, I woulda found corpses."
"So they either all got eated, dissolved, or retreated," Doc Wut concluded. "No matter which way, I don't think whatever the threat was could have gotten to the nest core yet if it come in after our meteor hit, so pack up, boys; we're going digging."

Tristian arrived at the Brawl City Limits, still concerned about Calamity. He had never felt his teammate make such a powerful quake before, and certainly not for a scan. He hoped Calamity's abilities weren't lapsing; in a city full of superhumans, it wasn't uncommon for one of them to temporarily lose control of their powers. This happened to different Brawlers for different reasons, but it seemed like a severe cold could send most into an accidental power frenzy. Since the team might finally be on to something, this would be a very bad time for one of the key members to get sick.
"Besides," Tristian thought as he crossed the city limits, "I kinda like the guy."
Tristian soon passed by Mr. Tavern, the westernmost building in Brawl City and the first sign of civilization since the GIT trailer. At first, Tristian had planned on passing it without even a second glance (he was on the job, after all), but after some thought, he decided that one of the bar's "regulars" might be able to lend a hand. He pushed open the saloon-like double doors feeling (as he always did when entering Mr. Tavern) a little like a cowboy. In spite of the fact that the bar was almost completely full, the only person to look up at Tristian as he entered was Mr. Handy, the bartender. He was an oddly dressed man; his standard outfit consisted of a long brown trench coat, and thick goggles which, in spite of being clear, somehow managed to always reflect enough light to hide his eyes. Like many residents of Brawl City, however, his clothing was by no means the strangest thing about him. Mr. Handy was, in fact, a Brawler with the rather unique ability to spawn an unlimited number of floating, disembodied hands he referred to as his "helpers." These helpers floated silently around the tavern, carrying drinks, orders, empty glasses, and, (of course) bills while Mr. Handy sat behind the bar mixing drinks. Tristian shooed away a helper holding a pad for him to write his order on as he approached Mr. Handy.
"Heya, Scorpion," Mr. Handy said (Tristian had given up on getting Mr. Handy to call him by his real name long ago), "you have something to do with that earthquake not too long ago?"
"That was Calamity," Tristian explained, "he was scanning underground for the Geological Investigation Team not too far from here." Tristian became even more worried about Calamity; the earthquake must have been even stronger than he thought if it had been significant enough to notice this far out.
"Ah," Mr. Handy said, quickly losing interest in the conversation and not trying to hide it in the least, "can I get you something to drink?"
"No thanks, Mr. H. I was actually looking for AJ. . ."
"Hey, Tristian!" a distinctly feminine voice said from a nearby booth. The owner of the voice raised her arm, forearm disconnected at the elbow and floating a floating a short distance from the rest of the limb, above the booth seat to show her position. She turned around to look at Tristian. "I'll be with you in a sec," she said, nodding towards the man sitting across from her.
"Well then," Tristian said, turning back towards Mr. Handy as he sat down at the bar, "I guess I'll take the usual while I'm waiting."
"Atta boy!" Mr. Handy said, creating two more helpers to get Tristian's drink. Tristian was one of the few underage regulars at Mr. Tavern, so his usual drink was easy for Mr. Handy to remember. The first of the newly dispatched helpers grabbed a glass from the shelf and filled it with cherry-flavored Diablo Cola (the most popular cola in Brawl City) while the other went to the freezer behind the bar and got a scoop of vanilla ice cream. The two helpers met, combined ingredients, and presented the finished beverage to Tristian.
"One Cherry Diablo Float-shake." Mr. Handy announced. "Make sure you pay before you go," he added with a grin. Tristian chuckled. Even if Mr. Handy's helpers didn't forcibly prevent customers from leaving before settling their tab, Tristian would have made sure to pay in full, and Mr. Handy, along with most of Brawl City, was well aware of that. Tristian was widely regarded as one of the most trustworthy Brawlers, having even befriended some civilians who were infamously suspicious of Brawlers. He sipped his drink.
"Wonderful as always, guys," he said to the two helpers that had served him his drink. They each gave him a high-five before retreating behind the bar to make beverages for other customers. Tristian continued to sip at his drink intermittently as he waited for AJ to finish talking to the man at her table. He turned around on his stool and leaned against the bar, watching the other patrons of the tavern. Mr. Tavern was a unique place in Brawl City; there were few other establishments with a clientele balanced so well between Brawlers and civilians. Tristian had always wondered why this was; in general, most civilians avoided places that Brawlers frequented out of fear that a Brawl might break out (although spontaneous Brawls were incredibly rare and almost never happened in a privately owned building). Some people suggested that, because of his helpers, Mr. Handy offered such great service that civilians were drawn to the tavern regardless of the Brawlers; others said it was because the tavern was so far from the center of Brawl City that the civilians felt more at ease. Tristian couldn't settle on a reason he liked Mr. Tavern so much either, but he did, so he kept coming back.
"Tristian!" AJ called as the man she had been talking to rose from his seat at the booth. Tristian left some money on the bar and carried his half-finished drink to his new seat across from AJ. There were two things everyone who sat in the seat that Tristian now occupied noticed no matter how many times they had been in the seat before. The first was the lily in a small vase at the table. AJ felt at home around plants, specifically flowers, and the lily was her favorite. It kept her calm even when Mr. Tavern was at its loudest and most rambunctious. The second thing people noticed when sitting across form AJ were her looks; she was undoubtedly one of the most physically attractive Brawlers, and one of the few who got her powers' from her parents and not from a freak accident or any number of other highly unlikely events that were know to empower numerous Powers in spite of the odds. Her mother (who was an angel, as countless men who tried to hit on AJ liked to remind her through their pickup lines) passed along a slight mutation of her limb-removing power, resulting AJ's eerily floating forearms. Of course, AJ was more known for the power which she inherited from her father: spontaneous hyperpyrokinesis (or, in layman's terms, the ability to create explosions from thin air). Regrettably, she lacked the control over this power that her father had and would often accidentally cause explosions when she sneezed, a problem made exponentially worse by her perpetually clogged nose. To avoid property damage, Mr. Handy kept a stash of tissue boxes next to AJ's usual booth, a fact which she took advantage of as Tristian sat down. He was amazed at how gorgeous she looked even when she was doing something as unattractive as blowing her nose. He was secretly glad that she was significantly older than he was; had they been the same age, he thought, he almost certainly would have tried to gain her affection and, like so many others, would have failed miserably. Peculiarly, AJ was completely unattracted to anyone, inside the bounds of Brawl City or otherwise; she generally preferred the company of the plants in the Brawl Wildlife Preserve to that of any potential love interests. In all likelihood, she would have spent all of her time there if it weren't for her need of food and, in turn, money. It was for this reason that she started her business, and it was because of her business that Tristian paid her a visit in Mr. Tavern this day.
AJ brought Tristian back from his introspection by blowing her nose a little to hard and accidentally creating an explosion at the end of the tissue.
"Sorry," she said, visibly embarrassed by her lack of control over her powers. Her expression shifted quickly back to her usual beaming smile, however, as she was never one to dwell on things. "So what do you need, Tristian?"
"I'm a little low on ammo. Could I get, um," (he paused to check his wallet) "five clips?"
"Sure thing. Still using that pitiful 9mm I assume?" She waved a helper over to their table, adding, "I still say you'd do better with a revolver; more power, but you could still take the recoil pretty easily 'cause of all the Brawling you do."
"Maybe next time, AJ; I want to use a gun I'm comfortable with for now."
"Alrighty then." She signaled the helper to get Tristian's order. "Out of curiosity, what does a nice guy need five clips for? I was under the impression you only used your gun for target practice."
"Well. . ." Tristian looked around to make sure no one was listening in on their conversation, leaning in so only AJ could here him. ". . . a meteor hit the void last night. It looks like something might have been inside it and gotten out."
"Something dangerous?"
"I don't know," Tristian said, leaning out as the helper brought him his clips, "but better safe than sorry."
"Works for me," AJ said with her characteristic joyfulness. "That'll be 100 B."
"Thanks," Tristian said, putting the money on the table and taking the clips from the helper. He drank the last of his drink and placed the empty glass where his ammunition had been.
"Good luck!" AJ said as Tristian headed for the door. She touched the flower at her table. For some reason, she had a bad feeling about the meteor Tristian mentioned, but after a few moments of looking at her lily, she forgot all about it.

Doc Wut surprised even herself sometimes. As she looked at the GIT trailer, she felt a rush of pride for her work. After all, designing the trailer so that it could transform into a drilling vehicle was not only a feat of considerable engineering prowess, but it also demonstrated a profound level of foresight that simply was not found in the members of the general population. Admittedly, she was slightly disappointed that Tristian had to miss the maiden voyage, but unfortunately the mission was too urgent to wait for him; she would simply have to demonstrate the machine for him later.
"What's the status of our beacon, Ghost?" she asked. Voidworm tunnels, if followed straight down, always ended at the nest core of the hive, so to find the core, the team simply needed to drop a round tracking beacon down the nearest tunnel and wait for it to stop. In this case, Doc Wut's engineering abilities resulted in a machine that could drill faster than the beacon could roll, and as she refused to run it at anything lower than maximum speed for its first run, the team had to give the beacon a head start before digging.
"Based on the average depth of voidworm nest cores, the beacon should be approximately two-thirds of the way there. If we start digging now, it should reach the core between 73 and 59 seconds before we do." Ghost reported.
"Alright, that sounds like a good enough lead," Doc Wut said. She reached for a large red button on the cockpit console (one conveniently labeled "GO!"), paused for a moment to ensure that the other two passengers had their seat belts fastened, then slammed her fist down dramatically on the giant red button, beaming excitedly. The drill on the now-transformed trailer hummed as it began to spin. As its rotation hastened, Doc Wut couldn't help but fidget like a little girl eagerly anticipating her first roller coaster ride; she was always giddy when testing her inventions (even though she was absolutely certain they would work), especially when she had an audience. When the grill had reached maximum speed, the trailer automatically started to drive into the crater. Doc Wut could barely contain herself as the trailer picked up speed, and it was all she could do not to squeal like a schoolgirl when her latest masterpiece broke through the ground at the bottom of the crater (she was able to refrain, mind you, as squealing would be unbecoming of a professional, but it was difficult). She turned around in her chair and was pleased to see that Calamity was fascinated with her invention; Ghost, however, had already resumed tracking the beacon. The doctor turned back around and began to calm herself down; pride was permissible (and even encouraged) in small bursts, but it was more efficient to think when one was no longer swimming in a sea of self-satisfaction. Still, it took her longer than usual to get over her triumph; in fact, she would most likely have reveled in it even longer had Ghost not spoken.
"Doctor," he said, "We have a problem." These words instantaneously sobered up the doctor, as they would to anyone who knew Ghost's definition of the word "problem."
"What is is?" she asked.
"The beacon seems to have gone into extended free-fall."
"What does that mean?" Calamity asked.
"It means that it's not rolling anymore," Doc Wut said, "it's falling. How wide is the tunnel it's fallen into, Ghost?"
"A hundred yards, at least; it still hasn't hit the other side." Voidworm nest cores were know to be between one and two hundred yards across; it was clear that the beacon was now where the core should have been. Doc Wut was now worried on several levels. First, she had underestimated the mysterious voidworm-destroyer; whatever it was, it moved faster than she thought physically possible, and that did not bode well for anything in its path. More immediately, however, she was concerned about the fact that she and her crew were headed to a drop of unknown depth that would most likely kill them and ruin her newest invention in the process. She immediately put the drilling machine into full reverse, but it was going too fast; Doc Wut's trailer-turned-drill broke through into the massive underground pit before it could stop, and fell, crew, cargo and all, into the underground blackness.
Report Post IP Logged

grent
the Grentacular


Member is offline

DOOT

Send PM


Posts: 4,825
Post Icon Posted: Dec 13th, 2015 at 01:15 am

Boom, padding the ol' post count some more.

Chapter 3: The Hunt
The angel's confrontation with the larger inhabitant of its latest conquest-to-be was short-lived, with both parties leaving virtually unharmed. The angel collected itself and proceeded down the hole that its first prey had emerged from and was almost instantaneously confronted by another voidworm. It had made short work of the first voidworm it had encountered, and used the knowledge it had gained from the previous conflict to dispatch of this voidworm even more rapidly. The angel was a fast learner; for example, it learned of the voidworms' hive mentality after this second opponent, and thus was able to defeat the third and fourth worms easily, in spite of their ambush attempts. Learning something new after each opponent, the extraterrestrial made the long journey to the voidworm nest core rather quickly. It had learned from its enemies that this was the location of the queen, a massive entity capable of digging miles into the planet. The angel descended into the core.

A boy with short, white hair and a red T-shirt looked longingly out of the third-story window of his school, Brawl City Middle School, at the crowd of people below. He often wondered why he had to go to school; he knew for a fact he was going to become a career Brawler when he grew up (he had even started to fight a few matches in the Arena on weekends to augment his allowance money), so he should be able to skip these boring English classes for the rest of his life and join the never-ceasing masses below. He was certainly a talented Brawler for his age, and one of the youngest to have competed in the Arena. In all likelihood, he could have made a good living out of being a career Brawler, even so early in his youth, but Brawl City law dictated that children had to attend school until they were at least 16, so there was no escaping Astro's Chronicles for now. Of course, this hardly prevented him from getting the attention of his friend, a green-skinned boy in the next seat over whose head, topped with a gold-colored crown, was on his desk.
"Chris," the white-haired boy whispered, gently nudging his friend in an attempt to wake him without attracting the attention of their teacher.
"What, Shackles?" the green-skinned boy mumbled in response. "I was having a good dream." DryChris the 1337th (Chris for short), like his red-shirted companion Shackles, was a young and talented Brawler who had participated in a number of Brawls at a young age. He too planned to become a professional Brawler when he grew up, but unlike Shackles (who spent all his time in school wishing he was not, in fact, at school), Chris slept.
"I wanna be outside," Shackles said, turning back to the window.
"And I want to be asleep, but you don't see me bothering you to tell you that."
Shackles sighed loudly, too focused on the crowd below to notice that he had attracted his teacher's attention. Unfortunately for him, his teacher was a civilian, and one with a considerable dislike for Brawlers. She tolerated the Brawler children in her class because she was legally obligated to, but that by no means forced her to be nice to them. On this day in particular, her temper was even shorter than usual (as her car had recently been destroyed in a Brawl), so she hardly tried to hide her contempt when confronting Shackles.
"And WHAT is the problem today, Shackles?" she asked, causing a much larger disruption than the white-haired Brawler she was addressing.
"Why do I have to be here?" he responded, feeling more confrontational than usual. This was the third time this week his teacher had made a scene, and he was tired of it. "I'm just going to be a Brawler when I grow up. Why do I have to read all these crappy books?"
"THESE BOOKS ARE CLASSICS!" the teacher roared, "DO YOU THINK YOU'RE ABOVE READING GREAT LITERATURE BECAUSE OF YOUR ABILITY TO DESTROY SOCIETY?"
"Nope," Shackles said with a calmness that further angered his already enraged instructor, "but I do think you're a total bitch."
"GET OUT OF MY CLASS, DEMON CHILD! YOUR KIND IS A SCOURGE UPON THE PLANET!"
Both Shackles and DryChris (who had been fully roused by his teacher's screaming) quickly rose at this last outburst and assumed their fighting stances. Shackles summoned a small amount of Red, one of two substances he was able to manipulate. Red was a fluid substance that Shackles could superheat to melt through substances or inflict severe burns on, say, a Brawler-loathing teacher. The classroom emptied almost instantaneously, with the students who occupied the room only seconds earlier now watching from the hall. Shackles, although severely annoyed with his instructor, was unwilling to give up his morals to deep-fry her, so he used the Red to melt the window he was looking through earlier. Despite the fact that his classroom was on the third floor, Shackles, like most other Brawlers, had acquired an almost superhuman resistance to injury through constant fighting, and was able to jump down to ground level without so much as a bruise. DryChris then climbed into the window frame and prepared to jump out and join Shackles, but, after a moment's pause, turned around and faced the classroom again. The students who had been in the room (along with their teacher) looked through the classroom door in a mixture of fear and awe. Chris looked directly at the teacher.
"Fuck you," he said, raising his middle finger to her. Almost instantly, a bomb formed from thin air in front of Chris, almost comically labeled with a large "F." The students quickly scattered as the teacher sealed the classroom's blast door (this was hardly the first time in the school's history an event like this one had taken place). DryChris jumped out the window as his F-Bomb exploded, resulting in a rather cinematic exit (Shackles would later give it a 9.5 out of 10, with his only complaint being that he was not yelling as he leaped). The young, green Brawler hit the ground in a roll, then proceeded to run the front gate of the school with Shackles.
Tristian heard the explosion from two blocks away, but wan't frightened by it in the least. Even the non-powered civilians of Brawl City were used to explosions (and other loud, destructive occurrences) going off at random in the city, and generally thought nothing of them unless they were certain a malicious Brawler was responsible for them. Knowing his proximity to the school, Tristian didn't even consider this possibility and turned around, curious as to who just escaped from a day of subtraction and subordinate clauses. He got his answer when Shackles and DryChris came running around the corner.
"Heya, Scorpion!" Shackles called when he saw Tristian. Though the two had spoken a few times at the Arena, Shackles had not met Tristian elsewhere, and was thus unaware of his naming preference.
"Hey, Shackles. Hey, DryChris. I assume you were the ones who just blew your way out of school?"
"Yep!" DryChris replied, beaming at the fact that his work had been recognized by a Brawler older than he, even if only by a few years. "What are you up to?"
"I'm looking for Inu," Tristian replied. He saw no reason to lie to the kids, as they most likely would have been fascinated rather than frightened even if he told them all he knew. Still, he added "Geological Investigation Team business," to be absolutely sure they lost interest before they asked any more questions.
"Cool. . ." Shackles said unenthusiastically. It was very rare to find someone who remained interested in a conversation after the GIT was mentioned, and Shackles, with his schoolboy's short attention span, was apparently far from an exception. After a moment of thought, however, a look of excitement returned to his face. "Can we come with you?"
"Yeah!" DryChris chimed in. "I don't think they're gonna let us back into school today. You could keep us out of trouble!" Tristian found this argument far from compelling as, in spite of their recent behavior, Shackles and DryChris were far from the destructive type. Still, he thought the relatively dull GIT work might convince them to stay in class in the future.
"Alright," Tristian said, "just as long as you promise not to get in the way."
"Awesome!" Shackles said, high-fiving his green-skinned companion. "We get to hang out with Scorpion!" The older Brawler smiled.
"Call me Tristian," he said, and led the trio towards the circus where Inu worked.

Calamity had always been curious what it would be like to be an astronaut, so he was glad that he now had the opportunity to experience zero-gravity. The GIT trailer had been falling for several minutes now and had reached terminal velocity, meaning that gravity no longer affected the occupants of the trailer in relation to the trailer itself, as Doc Wut had explained to him. Frankly, he didn't care about the science behind it; he just wanted to eat Tasty Meat Cubes (the Void's most popular meat-based snack) without the constraints of gravity. While he was enjoying himself, Doc Wut and Ghost were trying to find out exactly how long they would continue falling.
"Echolocation isn't working," Ghost reported. "There's some sort of interference at the other end."
"And we've already passed the beacon," Doc Wut said, "so we can't use that."
"Wait," Calamity said, "how'd that happen? Wasn't it ahead of us?"
"Due to its significantly smaller mass, the beacon does not overcome air resistance as easily as the much more massive trailer we're currently in. As such, it has a smaller terminal velocity and, although gravity accelerates all objects at approximately the same rate, it will travel at a lower maximum speed," Doc Wut replied. That was the second explanation the doctor had given in the past fifteen minutes that Calamity hadn't really wanted to hear the entirety of. He decided it was time to stop asking questions and resume eating his snacks. Meanwhile, Ghost and Doc Wut continued their attempts to determine how long they had before their descent came to an unpleasantly sudden stop.
"Run the interference from the echolocation through the speakers; maybe we can come up with a way to negate it," Doc Wut suggested. Ghost pressed a series of buttons on the console in front of him and the trailer's surround sound speakers (the doctor had spared no expense) began to broadcast the noise outside. The sound now emanating from the audio equipment was virtually indescribable by every language known to man, but was instantly recognizable to anyone who had heard ti before.
"Calamity," Ghost called to his teammate, who was now doing somersaults next to the (thankfully locked) mini-fridge in the trailer, "you may want to buckle back up."
"Huh?"
"We're headed for the Negasphere." The Negasphere was one of the more peculiar locales on the planet that hosted the Void; it was about 100 miles below the surface and had the unique property of inverting every property of matter within its range. White became black, bitter became sweet; even gravity was inverted, a fact which Doc Wut now planned to use to her advantage.
"Calamity, I need you to redirect the momentum of the trailer with your vines the instant we hit the Negasphere."
"Didn't we alread try my vines? I couldn't grow them thick enough in time to catch us."
"I'll only need you to redirect us, Cal," Doc Wut replied, "you'll be working with gravity instead of against it this time, so the vines shouldn't snap." Calamity shrugged and buckled his seat belt, a task which he barely had time to accomplish before the exit of the tunnel he and his teammates were plummeting through came into the range of his plant-growing abilities. Many a gardener had given up their trade after witnessing Calamity use his powers; what took normal people years to accomplish, Calamity managed in mere seconds. Dozens of vines erupted from the hole, growing quickly enough that they might be confused with snakes. The vines thickened as the trailer approached, and encircled the drilling machine as it entered the Negasphere. Calamity then swiftly used the organic ropes to change the direction of the trailer, releasing the vehicle flawlessly once the motion was complete. Doc Wut pushed a lever to her right, bringing the trailer's wheels up to match the speed at which the ground was flying by beneath the trailer. The trio hit the ground with a jolt, after which the doctor slowed her machine to an eventual halt.
"Well then," she said, "that wasn't so bad!" Her smile and excited expression hid her true thoughts, however. In her mind, she heard only one thought, echoing and repeating itself until it was a cacophony: "What the hell dug that hole, and what could it do to us if we find it?"

Tristian and his two truant companions arrived at the massive circus grounds rather quickly. DryChris commented about how all the huge tents made the grounds look like the campsite of a race of colorblind giants while Shackles, who normally would have responded with a witty comment of his own, ran off in search of cotton candy. Tristian realized instantly that his plan of "boring" the kids back into school had failed miserably, and made a mental note to take the duo on a more "normal" assignment in the future to give them a more realistic ideo of what the GIT actually did. The damage already having been done, however, he decided to let the boys enjoy themselves as he inquired about Inu's whereabouts.
"He's got a show starting in ten minutes," the ring-toss operator informed Tristian. She pointed to a tent a few yards away. "Tent number 36. You can't miss it."
"Thanks," Tristian replied. He turned to find the boys when he felt the operator grab his shoulder. He looked back at her inquisitively.
"Sorry," she said, slightly embarrassed by her own impulsiveness, "I just wanted to say I'm a huge fan, Scorpion." The girl behind the booth smiled at Tristian, who suddenly realized how little attention he had initially paid to her appearance. He took a better look at her, this time noticing her long, blond hair, bright green eyes, and tight white tank top, the last of which showed all of her shoulders, much of her back, and more of her chest than Tristian was accustomed to seeing (not much considering his occupation as an archaeologist). He was instantaneously intimidated.
"Oh, um, thanks," he fumbled, "and you can call me Tristian."
"Okay," the ring-toss girl said, smiling wider, "I'm Sierra."
Shackles, who had made his way over to the shooting gallery with DryChris, nudged his friend and motioned towards Tristian and Sierra. "Looks like Tristian got a new girlfriend," he said with a chuckle.
"Hey," DryChris replied, also laughing, "I thought he was supposed to be here on business!"
"Ladies and gentlemen," a nearby loudspeaker announced, cutting off shackles before he could make a "business" innuendo, "the Brawl City Circus would like to invite you to see the amazing Inu the Agile in Tent 36, starting in only two minutes! Once again, Inu the Agile will be performing in tent 36 in two minutes!"
"I gotta go," Tristian said to Sierra as Shackles and DryChris approached, holding up a giant plush toy of SeƱor Dante, the sidekick of a famously commercialized Brawler named Diablo King.
"Yeah," Sierra said, "See ya later, maybe?"
"Uh... yeah," Tristian replied, still intimidated by the fact that an attractive girl was speaking to him, "see you." He then led the boys to Tent 36, ignoring their suggestive glances and nudges. The trio had just taken their seats when the lights in the tent shut off. Moments later, a spotlight suddenly shone on the center ring, where a ringleader (in standard ringleader attire) stood.
"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, prepare yourselves!" he said to the crowd. "The man you are about to see will bend your minds with his feats of balance and dexterity! He will shatter your concepts of the limits of the human body! Needless to say, don't try this at home." A soft murmur of laughter rolled through the crowd. "Now," he continued, "let me introduce to you the amazing, the wonderful, the jaw-dropping, Inu the Agile!"
When he heard the ringleader say "jaw-dropping," Inu took his cue and leaned forward, silently dropping from his bird's nest at the top of the tent, conveniently hidden through a combination of shadows and misdirection. In fact, Inu thought about the idea of misdirection a lot. In many ways, his act was much like a magic show; dozens of times during his performance, he would trick his audience by appearing to go in one direction, then reversing and proceeding in the opposite direction. By studying crowd reactions, Inu found that he could make a good stunt into an excellent one by making it a surprise of sorts for the audience, and as an entertainer, Inu knew that the audience was the most important thing in the tent.
As the announcer finished, the spotlight moved upwards to Inu, now in mid-dive and falling quickly. The audience gasped. Inu lived for that gasp, that crowd reacting to his performance. It was his drug of sorts; it gave him a high and he loved it more tan anything else in the world. He deftly hooked his feet around the tightrope suspended some 30 feet above the ground and shifted his body weight in such a way that he could redirect his momentum upwards to a trapeze bar. He caught the bar and lifted himself to a standing position, bowing as the audience applauded. Inu loved his job.
Inu flew through the air, performing his entire routine flawlessly, as usual. Even Tristian, who was familiar with Inu's now mostly-forgotten Brawling history was impressed; Inu had earned a reputation for agility in the Arena, but he obviously had trained even harder after leaving it behind. What was even more surprising, however, was that his powers had nothing to do with a single stunt in his act. Inu used a magic deck of cards in the rare times he wanted to attack something. This deck had a number of enchantments on the cards, most notably those of fire, water, electricity, plant, and heart, each with correlating effects when thrown at a target. It was a card from this deck that led Tristian to Inu; if Inu, who quit Brawling because he discovered that he detested violence, resorted to using his offensive abilities, something very out of the ordinary must have happened by the side of that crater. For Tristian (who hadn't learned of the massive underground tunnel yet), this was the most unnerving part of the case so far.
Tristian and Inu had become good friends during Inu's short Brawling career, so despite the fact that Tristian had only seen Inu twice since he joined the circus, the partially-insectoid Brawler had no trouble getting to Inu's trailer after the show. Inu greeted his old friend and his two truant companions with his characteristic cheer and friendliness.
"Hey, Tristian! Long time no see!" he said, "and who might these two be?" he added, gesturing at the boys.
"I'm Shackles."
"And I'm DryChris!"
"Oh yeah," Inu said, "I thought I recognized you two! You're those two new Brawlers everyone's talking about." Shackles and DryChris beamed, excited that someone so famous had heard of them. The boys held out posters they had bought at the souvenir shop, asking for Inu's autograph; instead, Inu insisted that he receive their autographs in return. "After all," he said, "with how well you guys are doing in the Arena, these'll be worth big money soon!" Tristian smiled. Inu was a showman through-and-through, but he was especially good with children. Tristian remembered the acrobat telling him that he focused on making sure the younger audiences were entertained because they were more likely to spread the word about going to the circus than adults.
Tristian had to remind himself that this was an assignment and not a personal visit, so he shifted the conversation towards the reason he came. "I hate to say it, Inu, but I'm actually here on GIT business," he confessed. "We found one of our cards near a crater that was formed sometime last night. I know you don't usually like to use your powers offensively, so I can only assume something out of the ordinary happened. Mind sharing?"
"Sure," Inu began hesitantly, "although I don't really like talking about it. I went to go check out the crater when I saw a voidworm right by the edge. It looked like it was writhing in pain or something, so I got closer to take a better look. That's when it attacked me."
"Attacked?" Tristian asked, surprised. Voidworms seldom even acknowledged the presence of other species. An attack was virtually unheard of.
"Yeah, I guess it was rabid or something," Inu said. "I was able to dodge it pretty easily, but but I was worried it might hurt someone else, so I... well. . ." Inu paused for a moment to wrap his mind around what he was about to say. ". . .I cut it in half."
"Oh, shit." Tristian said.
"I know! I know!" Inu said frantically. "I didn't mean to be so brutal but--"
"No, that's not it," Tristian interrupted. "We didn't find any voidworm corpses out there. It's far enough out that any scavengers couldn't have gotten there before we did, and voidworms just ignore their dead above ground." Tristian thought for a moment. "I should report in." He pulled out a long-distance communicator that Doc Wut had designed for the Geological Investigation Team members and tried to call the doctor, but only heard static in reply.
Report Post IP Logged

grent
the Grentacular


Member is offline

DOOT

Send PM


Posts: 4,825
Post Icon Posted: Dec 13th, 2015 at 01:16 am

I don't even really remember what happened in this story, just that it was a masterpiece.

Chapter 4: On the Move
The angel, riding atop the voidworm queen, descended deep into the planet. Nearly an hour had passes since the angel had coerced the giant, organic drill into her downward journey when the ground she pulled herself through gave way and the pair fell into the Negasphere. The queen lay helplessly on her side and, having no way to right herself, was no longer of any use to the angel. Thus, the extraterrestrial invader consumed her. Almost immediately after it had finished absorbing the massive creature, it heard another creature approach, one similar to the creature that had escaped its grasp earlier, but this time accompanied by some kind of transport. Upon noticing the hole the angel had just helped to create, this new creature made loud noises, perhaps in surprise. However, the reason mattered not to the ange; all it needed was the distraction. It crept noiselessly up to the noisy intruder and, when close enough, pounced upon the creature and wrapped itself around its newfound prey. As it did so, it learned things from the being, a "human" as it called its kind. The angel learned about the vehicle the human had been piloting, about the Negasphere in which it now found itself and, of most note, about a place where it could find hundreds of thousands of other creatures to feed upon. Tempted by this prospect, the angel coerced the human to pilot its vehicle towards this place, known to its residents as Dare City.

"Damn," Doc Wut said, looking at her communicator, "I guess several miles of dirt even block signals from my devices." She looked up at Calamity, who was leaning against the GIT trailer, and Ghost, who was scanning the ground nearby with a variety of tools. "So, gentlemen, do we have any leads?"
"I'm picking up a lot of electromagnetic residue here," Ghost reported, "from the levels, I'd say there was a MineScouter around here recently." The MineScouter, manufactured by the Dare Mining Company, was the primary vehicle of choice for excursions into the depths of the planet. It used a unique Electromagnetic Resonance Drive that allowed the relatively small craft to hover a few feet above the ground. The downside to this drive was that it produced a large amount of electromagnetic "exhaust" that disrupted all nearby electrical devices that weren't protected by an expensive layer of EM shielding. While this fact made them impractical for use in surface activities, they were optimal for underground work, where most equipment was shielded anyways.
"This far out, it's probably a private venture, not associated with any of the big digging corporations," Doc Wut concluded.
"And 'cause Dare City has a thousand times as many MineScouters as Brawl City, that means we're headed to Port Charon, right?" Calamity asked. Dare City, the only city even remotely comparable in size to Brawl City on the whole planet was, interestingly, located on the exact opposite side of the globe. As dark and crime-filled as parts of Brawl City were, Dare City was still worse. It was a city driven by industry and manufacturing; instead of an "industrial district," it had a single "non-industrial district" where the rich and powerful of the city resided. The less fortunate souls were forced to take up residence in apartments and houses that were effectively surrounded by smoke-spewing factories that never seemed to cease. Because of the immense distance between Dare City and Brawl City, a number of entrepreneurs dug from the surface into the Negasphere to reduce the shipping distance between the two cities. The result on Dare City's side was Port Charon, the ferryman to Hell, although most people joked that they couldn't tell which side was supposed to be Hell.
"Right," the doctor said, calibrating the navigational system on her PDA. "Let's go."

"Shit, where the hell are they?" Tristian asked no one in particular, instinctively waving his communicator around in an attempt to get a better signal. Shackles, DryChris, and Inu followed him out of the circus star's trailer.
"Maybe they're just too far away?" Inu suggested optimistically.
Tristian shook his head. "No, these were made by Doc Wut herself. Designed specifically so we could contact here even if she was in Dare City. I've been able to get in touch with her through ten feet of concrete encased in fifteen feed of lead four thousand feet below the surface of a lake of chocolate. I'm not sure if there's anything that could stop this signal."
"Wait, why were you in a four-thousand foot deep chocolate lake?" Shackles asked.
"That's neither here nor there," Tristian said, the subtle blush of embarassment briefly crossing his cheeks, "besides, we have more important things to worry about right now. Like finding the rest of my team."
"I bet he had a kinky girlfriend," DryChris suggested, completely ignoring Tristian's attempt to dodge the issue.
"I dunno, man. Sounds kind of expensive for a fetish, don't you think?" Shackles responded.
"Well maybe if she was that into it she just saved the lake from last time. I mean, if that's the only way she gets off..."
"So much for the innocence of children," Inu said under his breath.
"GUYS I DIDN'T HAVE A KINKY GIRLFRIEND. CAN WE GET OFF THE SUBJECT?!" Tristian yelled a little louder than he intended. The red tint of embarrassment passed once again over his face as he inadvertently drew the eyes of everyone within the rather considerable area in which his outburst could be heard. The color had just begun to fade when a familiar voice came from behind him.
"I don't know, Tristian, I think everyone needs at least one kinky ex so they can realize how sane the rest are," the cheery, songlike voice interjected. Tristian turned to find the blonde ring-toss operator he met not long ago. Tristian's face turned almost purple. Sierra chuckled. "Did I hear you guys needed a ride? I just got off and I've been looking for a good adventure."
"Sure!" Shackles accepted, seemingly forgetting the fact that he too was a tag-along.
"Great!" she responded, "My ride's in the parking lot."
The parking lot for the Brawl City Circus was massive, almost as large as the circus grounds themselves, and filled with the most diverse assortment of vehicles in the cosmos. In addition to the traditional automobiles, there were numerous spacecraft, bicycles, two time machines (which were actually the same time machine on two different trips), three seagulls attached to a miniature sleigh, a unicycle (of particular note because it remained mysteriously upright), a spider-shaped robot, a whiteboard with wheels, a submarine, and a set of three Moon Shoes*, just to name a few. Of all the vehicles present, though, one stood out as the most obviously designed for killing: an enormous red double-barreled tank. The immense death machine immediately drew the attention of the two younger boys in the group.
"Wow! Awesome!" Shackles said, running up to the tank, "I want one!"
"Sorry," Sierra said, "They don't come like this. I had to modify this baby quite a bit to create the mobile destruction machine that stands before you."
Tristian, Shackles, and DryChris turned to Sierra with shock on their faces. Inu chuckled at their expressions.
"Sierra, you can't just drop that on people you've just met," he said, "remember, you look like a sweet, normal young girl, not a Brawler. You're going to give someone a heart attack some day."
Sierra shrugged and climbed into her tank, followed by the other four travelers. She drove off the parking lot and into Brawl City.

It was closing time at Mr. Tavern. AJ was cleaning her table and organizing her receipts as Mr. Handy's "helpers" escorted the remaining patrons outside. She took a sip of her drink and reached across the table for an order she had laid there earlier, accidentally knocking over the vase which held her lily in the process. The sound of the vase shattering against the floor briefly attracted the attention of Mr. Handy, who dispatched a fresh pair of helpers to the back room to retrieve a broom and dustpan. AJ retrieved her flower from amidst the fragments of wet, broken glass. She fell eerily silent as she mused upon the fate of the flower. With as many dangers as it faced on a daily basis, it was really no wonder the vase finally fell. In spite of how it may have appeared, it was quite fragile, as was its ability to sustain life. Now that it was gone, however, there was little that could be done except pick up the pieces and move the lily somewhere more habitable. Luckily, Mr. Handy's helpers arrived to do so; the two that had been sent to the back room began to sweep up the shattered remains of the vase while a third, previously unseen helper arrived at AJ's table with a glass of water to serve as the lily's temporary new home. As AJ placed her flower into the makeshift vase, she heard a rumble outside the bar that sounded suspiciously like a tank driving by. Assault vehicles were far from rare in Brawl City, but for some reason AJ felt a chill run down her spine. Somehow, perhaps as a result of her recent musing on the condition of her flower, she felt as though the tank was a warning sign of some rapidly approaching unknown catastrophe. She felt more at ease as the sound off the tank faded into the distance. When it couldn't be heard any more, she resumed her bookkeeping.
After several hours, Doc Wut, Ghost and Calamity finally reached the underground freight elevator to Port Charon in the doctor's drill-trailer. Doc Wut fastened her vehicle to the elevator platform that was to be their ride to the surface.
"Alright, gents," she said upon reentering the trailer, "fasten any loose objects and then yourselves. We wouldn't want anything accidentally stabbing us in the face before gravity switches back to normal." After double-checking everything, Doc Wut activated the revolving platform with her PDA. Each team member's blood rushed to their respective heads momentarily when the platform turned upside-down, then returned to normal as the platform exited the Negasphere and gravity was once again reversed.
While the elevator ride up wasn't nearly as quick as the GIT's particular method of descent, it was optimized to be as rapid as possible for economic reasons, and withing minutes the trailer arrived at Port Charon. Unlike in Brawl City, there was very little regulation in Dare City, and Port Charon was a shining example of this. If the port had been under Brawl City's jurisdiction, the Geological Investigation Team would have been subjected to a barrage of scanning devices and, if they were particularly suspicious (which they were), full cargo searches before they would be permitted to enter the city. In Dare City, however, once the designers of the station had ensured that the more important mechanisms were as damage-resistant as possible, they made everything fully automated and simply left the station open for public use. As such, when Doc Wut stepped out of the trailer to unfasten it from the platform, she didn't think it was too odd that there was not a single person in the entire port aside from its most recent arrivals.
Calamity, who had never been through Port Charon, was astounded by both the incredible scale and intricacy of the machines in the station and the state of apparent decay shown in the thin coat of rust that covered nearly every metal component in the massive complex. In reality, the fact that the rust was so thinly spread showed how frequently the facility was used, as the countless factories, refineries, and other manufacturing complexes of Dare city spewed a potent mixture of gasses that, among other things, caused most metal to rust at an extremely accelerated rate. Giant cranes towered thousands of feet above the team. Higher still was the dome that enclosed the port, creating what appeared to be a rust-colored sky that somehow managed to be more pleasant than the actual atmosphere surrounding Dare City.
Doc Wut restarted the engine on her drilling machine and drove to the giant, garage door-like mechanism that serve as the exit from Port Charon. The door rose automatically at the vehicle's approach, gradually giving the three passengers a clear (considering the air at least) view of Dare City from atop the hill on which Port Charon stood. As the door slowly revealed the city, however, the doctor's eyes slowly widened.
"Oh... my... God..." she heard herself say.
Dare City was in the process of being completely destroyed. Several districts already lied crumbled in charred heaps. Most of those that still stood were on fire or exclusively contained buildings that, for all intents and purposes, should not have still been standing. In the distance, an explosion blew out a huge chunk of a tower, causing it to become unstable and crash into half a dozen other buildings. Charon had done his duty; he had taken Doc Wut, Ghost, and Calamity from their world and ferried them to Hell.
Report Post IP Logged

 
 
A great way to get more members is to spread the word about your forum:
Bookmark and Share


Click here to disable ads!



This forum powered for FREE by Hyperboards v2.26
Get your own Free forums & free message boards today!
Terms of Service | Privacy Policy


.