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Bargoyle's Waifu

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User Image “Go to the roof, they said. Scout out a location, they said. It’ll be easy, they said.” Adeline huffed to herself as she adjusted the bag around her side, making her way through the empty city. It seemed appropriate to send her along, someone so built for sneaking in to place. But truthfully, Adeline was far from stealthy. She preferred her fighting style, tearing through and punching stuff in the face. Chains around one’s arms were certainly not a subtle touch.

Pulling down the wrap around her mouth, she took a break, smelling the decay. Paradise. What a bunch of garbage. Even though it had been ten years, she remembered her own city. San Francisco was so glorious. She would take the trolley into Chinatown, skipping school once or twice. The sun would shine and she would feel at peace. Now, she was wrapped in a deep, red cloak with a red scarf around her face, a brown bag wrapped around her hip.

The wrap went back up as she stepped through the dusty building of what was like the international district of the city. The signs were in Korean, from what she could make out, making her way to the roof. Once there, she looked around, pulling out binoculars. It had been such a pain in the a** to get something on her own, but people didn’t truly trust her. Adeline had a history with the man leading the Nets, and that made her a liability.

But Adeline wanted the same thing everyone else did. Addy wanted to be able to wake up in a bed in her own room, feel the sun on her face, and not be afraid. She wanted to be known as Addy, and not Ghost. She hated feeling like a ghost, at that.

Plopping down, she made herself invisible, looking around to see what was going on. Each faction was inching their way in, and so far Supers were on the outskirts still. Slipping the binoculars back into the bag, she sighed, audibly, glaring at the city, “You are a poorly named city, Paradise. I’mma call you ‘Shitshow’ because that’s what’s gonna happen.” Not that the city could hear her, but she liked to think she hurt its feelings.

Years. It had been years since she joined up with the Supers. They had found her, mostly dead, blood caked around her. A healer had been called in and she was saved, but the scar across her chest, going from her collar bone, would always remain. It was a reminder to Adeline not to trust people, specifically not Nets. Specifically not humans. The man who had been so willing to give his life for her had become a symbol of hate. He ruled with an iron fist, which was literal because he had made one of his arms completely metal. It was the one he wielded his hammer with. A sledgehammer. How cliche, right? She huffed again, audibly again, feeling sort of grumps as she stared at the quiet city.

Early morning was always nice to explore. It meant she was going to be left alone, and given she was unable to be detected even by heat signatures with her ability, it also meant she was mostly safe to be out in the open.

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Always something for me to do, Shaelyn thought idly to herself as she strolled fairly casually through the street. Not one to approach anything with any sort of stealth or caution she hadn't even made an attempt to sneak or hide herself. Today she was wearing a sundress that was tattered at the bottom and had perhaps once been a vibrant bubblegum pink but after years of sun damage had faded into a pastel. They didn't match the combat boots she'd found herself wearing consistently with the steel toes, at least not much, save for the faded pink ribbons she'd found to tie them with as a slight breeze tickled her knees. So much to do! There was no jacket protecting her pale shoulders but there was a large black scarf that had been wrapped around her neck and mouth to protect herself as best she could from inhaling the toxins.

Doesn't matter as you are going to die anyways. The voice whispered to her and she absently nodded her head in agreement. She'd sown a pocket into the dress which held one of her most valuable treasures which she turned on now. The large black headphones had already been on her ears but now she turned on the MP3 player to songs and names she could only vaguely recall by now. The music awoke her limbs and drowned out the voice which did attempt to speak again but was lost to the lyrics

'Eyes huge, so little left of something
Cracks and clues, he's crazy as a straw
Why denied, does no one care or nothing
How, you ask, I ever last so long'

Her head began to bob to the song as she hit the repeat song finding it comforting as her body began to dance of it's own accord to the lyrics her feet pounding and bringing little puffs of dust up as she continued. Find the Nets, kill the nets, maybe die? It didn't matter it was all the same. She had to protect Adeline. Just like when they'd been found. She'd already been captured and they'd thought her skills wonderful-quite lovely as she was close to indestructible. Some of the testing they'd done had pushed her to nearly mad or maybe it had pushed her to insanity? Perhaps. No worries about that tho, not now, she had to help. Help Adeline help her like she couldn't help before. At least she was safe now, and she swallowed hard thinking about her as she continued and the song finally changed. It caused her to pause for her dancing for a moment until a womans words blared into her cranium and a twisted smile took her lips.

'Oh,Lord, heaven knows
we belong way down below
Way down below,way down below
Way down below,way down below

I've had better days,man
I've seen better days'

With this she took the opportunity to effectively find any Nets this far out. Putting her hands around her mouth to hopefully push out the sound she shouted "Hello boys! Come and get me! I'm here and all pretty for ya! Nice and ripe for the takin'!" At the end she giggled and continued to dance. Back up or no she was ready for it. Those vibrant blue eyes sparkled with mischief as she continued her parade down the middle of the street their color popping with the black she'd smeared around them. Perhaps with enough control (Ha! As if she had it!) she could force a pinpoint amount of force into someones skull and crack it. Perhaps it was something she should consider practicing. It did sound like it would have merit, They'd explode like smashed watermelons!

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"This is certainly not what I had planned for today..."

A huge chunk of concrete landed with a thud as Howard continued to clear out the front porch of a long since abandoned town home, another casualty of the end of the world no doubt. A few minutes more and the front was all clear. The big man wiped his brow and turned the knob of the battered door. He was mildly surprised to find that the door was actually locked. "Guess it's only polite to knock first" he thought to himself as he charged his shoulder into the area of the frame where deadlocks are known to be. The door gave up the ghost without too much effort and Howard found himself in the hallway of a rather spacious mudroom. He thought to himself how nice this place must have been before society turned and began to devour itself: Kids playing out in the yard, parent looking on happily and looking forward to growing old together, maybe playing with a few grand kids, ten years ago the possibilities were endless.

But not anymore.

The only thing that stirred in this dead space now was him and a cloud of dust that decided to keep him company. He stepped over broken picture frames and toys as he made his way into the living room. The air immediately turned from stale to rancid as his presence disturbed a group of flies feasting on what he assumed were the most recent occupants of this home. They were all lined up on the couch, tattered blindfolds covering the remnants of their faces and various means of their demise etched on their bodies from bullet holes to a large hunting knife still buried in the biggest one's chest. He pulled the knife out and wiped it off before sliding it into his belt and making his way upstairs.

***


Howard returned with a newly acquired backpack filled with various odds and ends and headed back towards the door. He paused at the family again with silent reverence and as he did his eyes trailed to the hand of the smallest one. It was clutched to who Howard could only assume was his sibling or parent and it became immediately clear why no one in the home made it out alive. The tin one's hand was no longer a hand but a very sharp looking claw that resembled a scythe more than a hand. He tightened his grip around the bag and moved towards the door. He furiously scratched his beard before dropping the bag at the front door and turning back to the disease. "******** me."

***


Howard stood over the freshly disturbed dirt and walked away with his new bag slung over his shoulder. It was a pointless gesture in this world now. Showing people sympathy usually ended up turning on you and dead were only as good as the stuff they left behind in their pockets but... just because he world turned to s**t didn't mean that he had to follow suit. He was human a long time ago and he would only hope that someone would do the same for him. Besides, this is the only way he could repay them for ransacking their home. The dead have no need for money.

Funny enough, the living didn't either anymore.

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User Image"Come! Have a seat. Your teeth will rattle out of your head, at that rate!" Artos beckoned, voice silky and inviting, as he addressed the young man standing before his large oak desk. He leaned back with elbows rested on the arms of a wingback chair, and steepled his fingers before him.

The man he spoke to continued to tremble visibly. But, with great trepidation, he slowly lowered himself into the room's only other seat, an elegant wooden chair. His gaze remained locked on the floor. Artos took a moment to examine this shivering specimen. Shoulders pulled inward. Hunching. Avoiding eye contact. Knees pressed together. Hands clasped. Shaking, slight perspiration. These thoughts flitted through his mind in blinding succession, and it took him only a moment to render his assessment. This man had not struck Artos as one quick to cower, during their previous interactions. This did not bode well for their business together this evening.

"Darek. How have you been? You seem ill," Artos remarked, adding just a tinge of concern to his tone. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, taking on a perfect mask of tender worry. Darek's shoulders relaxed just a smidgen. Enough to show that his mental wall of fear and caution had cracks in its foundation. Inwardly, Artos smiled.

"I've b-been alright, sir." That was too quick.

"Are you sure, son? It's alright. Perhaps I can help."

Darek's trembling abated slightly, and the shadow of hope tinged his features. "Well..." he began, hesitant. "I got all but one of those shipments of bullets I wanted to sell you. A rogue gang attacked the fifth one in the Roughs, but after that I sent my own men to escort them here. They had some big fights, and I lost a couple of the crew... but we made sure to get them all here for you!" Derek's eyes lifted for the first time, a note of cheer entering his voice. Artos continued to examine him, now expressionless.

"May I see an example of the ammunition?"

Darek took a second to process the request. Perhaps he had been expecting some sort of praise for his efforts. But the young man recovered after a moment and began fumbling in the many pockets of his dingy coat. "It's here somewhere..." he mumbled. Rustling of fabric was the only noise that broke the otherwise absolute silence. "Ah-HAH!" he exclaimed, and finally held up a single .50 caliber cartridge. Artos gestured slightly, indicating for Darek to come closer. He did so, placing the bullet upright on the desk. With a delicate touch, Artos picked up the cartridge and turned it over in his fingers. In his peripheral vision, Darek began to visibly fidget. Soon, Artos spotted the reason why - the neck of the cartridge was slightly malformed.

"These have been reloaded." Artos stated this flatly, as a matter of fact rather than suspicion.

"I-I don't know..." Darek started to mumble, clearly forming the beginnings of a lie in his mind.

"Were you hoping that I wouldn't inspect one closely?" Artos asked, tone still flat. Darek, wisely, remained silent. "Well," Artos began as he placed the bullet upright on his desk, "The terms of our agreement were clear. You know that I only wanted factory-made unfired rounds."

"... Yes s--" Darek gulped, voice catching. He tried again. "Yes sir."

"Why did you neglect to honor these stipulations?"

"The new ones... they're rare, now, really expensive stuff. I can't afford all of them right now, food is really sca--" Artos held up one hand, cutting off the sentence.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you. But I had to make sure that there wasn't a good explanation for this betrayal of my trust in your business before I did this. Have a good... well, that would be disengenuous to say at this point. So, instead, I simply bid you adieu." Artos loudly rapped on his desk twice, and a large man opened the door behind Darek.

"No, sir, please! We can try again, I can get what you wan--" his voice cut off abruptly as the guard, a very large and very bald individual dressed simply in a black turtleneck and trousers, grabbed him from behind.

"Mr. Dash, what's the offense?"

"Deceit and misreprentation of goods. Make it quick, if that's alright. I'd quite like some tea."

Barry, the guard, nodded curtly. Darek was still babbling frantically. Heedlessly, the guard abruptly shifted his grip until he had his hands around the young man's jaw. He twisted, emitting a single grunt with the effort. Artos sat like a statue, hands clasped gently under his chin, and didn't flinch when the sickening crack rang out. Barry made sure to catch the freshly-made corpse before it hit the carpet, and began dragging it from the room. He paused in the doorway.

"I'll be back with that tea shortly, sir. Just gotta take out the trash."

The ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of Artos's lips, and he bobbed his head in acknowledgement. Barry made such a good butler. And his green tea was... to die for.

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Today was a lovely day.

No sarcasm, no irony, no powerful delusions. It really was a good day. As far as AJ was concerned, anyway.

The weather, while not the best thing, certainly let things off to a good start. The sun was up high and bright, but the clouds were mindful enough to help keep its modesty, making the city of Paradise not as hot as it could be. It happened more often than you'd think for the end of the world, but even then it was still a welcomed sight. But the best part was that AJ was allowed to be doing what he loved, and going it alone. Don't get it twisted, he could enjoy the company of others well enough...but he did his best work on his own.

Work. Yeah, that's right, supposed to be on the job, AJ thought to himself, twirling his wrench absently before letting it rest on the shoulder. He gave a humorless laugh, as the words of his 'superior', a man who called himself Breakstorm, played over in his mind: 'This is a recon mission. Scout the area, mark points of interest, locate potential threats, gather information. But try to come back alive, ya hear? I don't wanna loose another team.' Team? AJ, Adeline, Shaelyn, and Howard weren't any more a 'team' that the Supers were a proper organization. Shae seemed constantly determined to get herself and everyone around her killed because reasons among other random nonsense, and Howard could easily be set off by some of the most innocuous things which was dangerous when the man could blow you up with only a minor inconvenience to himself. Only Adeline seemed to have her wits about her...but she came with her own set of problems. How the other Supers viewed her was largely based on her past with the leader of the Nets, which was general knowledge. Despite putting in more work than most others, she wasn't given the respect she deserved. They resented her – mostly behind closed doors but just often enough in the open – and it was likely she resented them right back. Wanting revenge – and you couldn't convince AJ that she wasn't out for it – kept her going, more than simply just trying to do her part for the way effort.

They weren't a team. Adeline was sent in to scout, and she was doing so alone, further in. You couldn't get Shaelyn to keep too far away from her best friend, so she came along. Howard and AJ were supposed to have their back, in case things got heavy...but AJ was certain that the only reason he was sent was so that he could mind all three of them.

“Yeah, I need to stop,” AJ said finally, shaking his head, smirking at himself. It was a good day. He couldn't let himself be bothered by potentially being made to babysit his fellow Supers. Beside, he had his job to do. “I think this was the place.” Turning the corner, AJ's face broke out into a large grin, as he was proven correct. He stood before a modest junkyard and what used to be an auto repair shop attached to it. It was heaven, especially to a scavenger like himself. No doubt anything worth true value would've long since been looted or ruined by time, but there was always that small hope for that diamond in the rough. And even random scraps could prove useful. Gotta keep the little machinery they had patched up and running, right?

He hit the garage first. Trying the door, he found that it was locked or otherwise barred. But that wasn't a problem, not for a Super such as himself. Tendrils of smoke trailed from his body, and suddenly AJ dispersed into a cloud of smoke, motes of ashes drifting about was well. In this form, AJ could easily seep in through the cracks in the door as if it were nothing. He reformed in the space of a heartbeat, looking around the space with a grin. There wasn't much to be hand in the garage, tools that he already had or couldn't hope to use, but just being in the auto shop made him feel at home.

The junkyard, however...that's where the money was. Of course, the cars were junked, unusable. At least, unusable for anyone that didn't need metal to salvage to patch things up. This was a treasure trove, as far as raw material went. There were even cars that had salvageable parts; apparently this place was something of an impound lot, or just people dumped old rides here. Spark plugs, ignition coils, break pads, filters, a bunch of other things. “This really is a paradise!” AJ said, chuckling to himself, as he began his work of salvaging what he could bring back with ease. The rest would have to wait till he could come back with some more capable hands and not troublesome ones. But by the time he finished, he had enough materials to – if he were still wandering the wastelands of the US – probably make bank in a decent enough settlement. Wouldn't get him a king's ransom here….but hey, you did the best you could. And this was certainly good.

Bargoyle's Waifu

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User ImageBy now, Adeline had sprawled onto the roof itself. She had cleared some debris out of the way, making her own little space, per usual. Her pack was nestled to the side, the young woman's form clad in mostly black. Black cargo pants, hanging low on her slender hips, a pair meant for someone larger than she. Her black tank top clung to her figure, the scar evident across her chest. That is, were she visible at all. The young woman knew well enough to know to hide herself when out. Sure, it took concentration to make herself completely invisible, but that was how she liked it. Total solitude. Out here, on the outskirts of town, in the Internation District, was where she felt at home.

She recalled sitting in Golden Gate Park on one of her weekend days. She would go in the summer, reading books, The Hunger Games open to a chapter she had read a thousand times before. Her phone was next to her, Facebook buzzing alive with information. That was before everything went straight to hell.

Her ears perked open at the sound of shouting, a voice known to her as Shaelyn. Shae was... different. She liked different. Addy had felt at home with different. Shae had taken to her, and visa versa. Shae had won back her trust after it had been stolen from her. Hearing her voice now, Adeline smiled, almost leaping to her feet, knocking over a few things to the side, making more noise than necessary, "Shae! Shut your yapper!" She was smiling widely, waving at the young woman.

It would take a moment before Adeline would realize she was invisible, shaking her head a bit as if waking from a daze. Her form materialized, visible now on the roof, her pale skin exposed. It was a rareity, to be sure. Adeline was incredibly self-conscious about the scar. For a woman who could make herself intangible, she sure did manage to procure a lot of wounds.

Never the less, she smiled and waved, waiting until she was sure Shae had seen her to collect the red wrap. She pulled it around herself, covering some of her face and the rest of her upper body, warmly taken in by the cloth that had certainly seen better days. Ghost, she had called herself. And she always felt she was one. A part of her had died when Alain left her, and never did the woman feel she ever existed really anywhere. Shae seemed to fit similarly. It was part of why the two got along so well, truly.

Leaning over the roof, she pulled down the cover from her face, speaking quieter, "Hey, why are you in town? Anyone else wandering around?" Not that Addy was looking for more company. She wasn't. But she did at least care about the Supers. Even those she didn't know well, Howard, AJ... they seemed all right.

It was then a gunshot caught her attention. It wasn't that she thought there was fighting, but it was that gunshots were not common. Sitting up, she withdrew the tablet from her bag. Supers weren't Nets by any means, but they definitely had some technology. Zipping through some of the intel she really should have read more detailed, she looked under "Arms and Weapons: Nets" and spotted the name 'Artos'. He wasn't located far from here, which was enough to make Adeline nervous. She spoke again to Shae, "Get up here, please. Something isn't OK." She looked nervous, her eyes giving her away. Artos wasn't just a man to be aware of, but that he had ties to Alain made her more nervous.

Alain was near.

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Shae had moved one of the headphones off of one ear in order to properly hear any threats issued in her general direction after her shouting. Nothing from the enemy came at her but when she heard her name from one of her favorite mouths she turned her eyes attempting to look for the source. It was difficult to determine seeing as how the songs were still blaring into one ear. It had to be Adeline and she knew darn well Shae couldn't see her if she wasn't visible, obviously. It was an odd relationship they held as she'd been one of the people to help her escape and when she finally spotted the woman who had become visible she eagerly drank the view that was presented.

It had always been there hovering beneath the surface but she wouldn't ever let it out knowing that the person of her affection wouldn't return it. There was also the fact that Shae herself understood that she was nearly completely batshit crazy. The shock of red, the scar, the long hair it was all parts of the woman that she admired. She'd stay by her side in any way possible. Whatever it took to keep her happy. Although there were others she spoke to and associated with she was the fondest of Adeline.

"Hey,why are you in town? Anyone else wandering around?" Her voice was smooth and Shae began to move towards her as she responded "Havin' fun of course. Oh yeah I'm sure around somewhere.." she waved a hand as if brushing off the question. They could handle themselves each one of them was more than capable of handling some riff raff and if they weren't Shae would run her heart out to make it to them in time to help. She lived for the pump of adrenaline through her veins: sometimes it was the only way she could feel alive.

Could always just die, you know. Would save you the trouble The voice whispered to her and she absently shook her head at it not warranting a response. She reached the building and was looking up at her before climbing up as she heard the gunshots echo. Adeline seemed nervous about the gunshots which only caused Shae to climb quicker. She'd mentioned something about coming up but she hadn't even heard it worried that her friend was going to be too worried to handle things effectively.

She squatted down next to her once she'd reached the top and watched her waiting for a response or any information on what was going on. Perhaps they should find the others it might work better for all of them.

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Mads' slight frame walked the destitute land with his newest mindless, who strode in front to give him shade; he was a large, former super with skin tougher than steel, he was, for all intents and purposes, a very effective meat shield. He had tried to defect, so he met a defector's end; the decision to turn him mindless was not a popular one, a fair trial system was in place after all but Mads assured them that it was him or the traitor, which was not true. Not true in any sense of the word.

Sec...sector...cle...clear...

A thought invaded his mind, a secret thought; one of his scouts, half a mile north. She was special, very special, no one but Mads truly knew to what extent. He had never opened up about her but the identical rings they shared led people to a false truth, a truth he was more than happy to let them live in.

Head east a quarter mile.

The telepath was nothing compared to what she used to be merely being able to parse fractured words, an unfortunate side effect of the process but ultimately worth it for Mads to have complete dominion over her. Not only was she a great scout, she served as a link between him and his other mindless, while being convenient it also served to perpetuate the idea of Mads as something otherworldly; these creatures, these fallen men and women would give in to his every, wordless whim.

His final mindless amplified a part of him he had felt since the day he had fought to live; an intuitive connection to the earth, like they were spirits intertwined. He could smell the salty air of the sea in the desert sometimes and soft breezes that no one else seemed to feel; it was jarring at first like he was being haunted by all those that had lost their fight that day but now it comforted him. With this also came the pain this planet had felt over the years past, disaster after disaster bringing forth chaos and bouts of excruciating pain, the pain would subside when he slipped into another dimension. He wished that he could remain inside sometimes but the longer he stayed the inevitable would happen; pain would give away to rage and he would return to wreak this new found havoc on whoever was closest.

He was a mile west, Mads could faintly feel him, he had not got himself into trouble.

The sun wore him down, thin beads of sweat began to trickle down his forehead, as one splashed into his eye it was then he realised that his brute lagged behind. He stopped and turned noting the slow movement and waterfalls of perspiration that cascaded over his expressionless face.

He held up a hand and the creature came to an abrupt halt, he lifted his shirt; his Intravenous had run dry, it was the only way to keep these things on their feet and were it not for Shae's diamond fingers being able to break his skin, this thing would have died weeks ago. He pulled from his coat a full IV, a simple solution to hydrate and offer the necessary nutrients; which meant that his brute would eventually shrink down to a frame smaller than his own. It was a shame to be sure but there would be others.

With his IV fixed in place it was not long before Mads had once again one-upped the sun.

Mads, as he was wont to do, found himself questioning why he was trudging through this wasteland, he had helped secure Paradise when it was an unknown quantity and could feasibly be the salvation that everyone wanted it to be. But now here he was; a man of rational, calculating thought knowing that it was a farce, putting his life at risk so he and the rest of the 'team' could keep control. Either Paradise means something different than it used to or the people that called themselves their leaders knew something the rest did not and judging by everyone's underwhelmed response at finding heaven on earth he must assume the latter.

He say Gun...fire...n-not far a-away.

Tell him to stay, you hide and focus.

He closed his eyes and concentrated, feeling out for his mindless; he felt an even deeper connection with earth at that moment, it was euphoric, he felt part of the ground and the wind.

His eyes opened bolt fast, he took his brute by the shoulder and with a whisper they were both gone.

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Howard's ears perked up to a sound in the distance, he couldn't quite make it out but it was more than enough to garner some interest. He had a general idea where the sound was coming from so he mentally mapped out the destination and slipped into the nearest side street. It wouldn't do well to be spotted before he could formulate a plan right? The side streets were cluttered with rust, metal, and debris but it was easy enough to navigate. Howard's eyes caught the figure of someone or something traversing a building but since he couldn't make it out he decided not to try his luck. He watched and tried to stay as concealed as possible while surveying the area. There was nothing special about the place other than the ample high ground afforded by the buildings. He still couldn't find the source of the sound though and that was starting to make him uneasy. "Where the hell is everyone else anyway?" The thought crossed his mind as he kept quiet and waited for the sound again and continue on. Today was turning out to be more eventful than he imagined, or hoped for. He tapped the grip of his newly acquired knife as he waited for something else to happen. Howard was never one to eagerly jump into a fight but that all changed when the world did. Gutting another human being left a sour taste in the mouth... though that could have been the bile from the stomach turning experience of his first kill. He pushed the thought from his head though, he'd cross that bridge if and when the situation came to it.

As he sat there waiting for something to happen, his mind floated as it was want to do when the quiet started to fill his ears for to long.

***


A little time after the world went to s**t he found himself wandering, No place in particular, he didn't expect much else to exist anyway. The silence consistently reminded him maybe this was truly the Rapture. Maybe his sins piled up and were one too many to make it to the pearly gates. Though it was humid and looked the part, he expected hell to be much different. That idea started off as mere whimsy, just his self deprecating depression weighting on his back as he crossed barren landscapes and seas of charred metal and crushed bloody corpses. Maybe it was this weight that led him to eagerly share that burden with the first group of people he found: they seemed equally happy to see another human being besides themselves and eagerly welcomed him to the fold. Most were the last remnants of a group of military reservists that ventured from their barracks looking for signs of life and supplies. Howard wasn't a fighter nor did he have any real world skills beyond the power to offer someone a moderately comfortable couch and a sympathetic ear but he was willing to learn, if only to keep the madness that scratched at the back of his mind at bay.

This went on for a a while, Howard couldn't tell how long. He long since abandoned the notion that keeping a running record of days passed would be of use to him. It didn't take a shrink to see this once small band of soldiers was getting larger and beginning to establish a hierarchy of senior members, their sense of superiority and entitlement growing in tandem. Then came the worst day Howard could remember in a long time: The day the roving camp came across an abandoned gun range. Oh how the "Generals" celebrated at the instant increase of firepower they had at their disposal now. Small camps and groups with knives and sharpened sticks were no match for the power of an automatic weapon. The smell of blood and bile seemed to permeate Howard's skin and clothes. "This must be what a corpse feels like" he would think to himself when it got particularly hot and his clothes got particularly...fragrant. This wasn't a band of humans anymore, they were slavers, monsters, demons; and Howard was no different. He hadn't killed anyone like the others had but he hurt indiscriminately under the auspice that he was doing what was best for the team, that those he took from were knocking on death's door and the reaper had a strict policy about personal effects, so why not? He was someone important when he was with these people: They gave him food, shelter, and even a title of general of their group. They even had a name now: The Blacksteel Battalion. It had a cool ring to it, he thought, and that was enough in times like these. For all their faults he loved these men and women dearly, however blind he was to their misdeeds.

Howard's power manifested on a rainy day. He knew that because he remembered the taste of fresh mud and blood in his mouth.

The Battalion had just raided another camp that proved too prepared for their guerrilla style tactics and Howard was captured as he attempted to escape for days he was tortured. The enemy demanded the whereabouts of his comrades but he stayed tight lipped, offering them the opportunity to keep their miserable lives if they released him but his offer fell on deaf ears. Eventually his captors slipped up and left a bit too much slack on his bindings after a particularly heartfelt torture session. He slipped from the camp under the cover of night and didn't stop until he made his way back to the Battalion's camp. He was exhausted when he reached the camp, the overjoyed sounds of his brothers and sister brought a smile to face as his eyesight got dark and the ground seemed to rise to meet his face.

The sound of thunder startled him as he sprung up. He looked around and noticed he was in a makeshift infirmary. Howard thought it strange that the room was empty save for him and got up to look around. He parted the fabric of the tent and was immediately greeted by the lick of flames and screams coming from every direction. Before he could even process the scene an indescribable pain erupted from his left side and brought him to his knees. He tried to brace himself with his hands and immediately toppled to his left side. A short ways away he spotted something familiar. It took him a couple of seconds to realize it was his left arm.

"So glad you could make it! I thought you had died somewhere on your way back here! Today must be my lucky day!"

He knew that voice. It was the voice of the man that led the charge during most of his torture sessions. "W-why? How...?" it was the only thing he could think to say that wasn't a bloody scream of agony. "I'm glad you asked" The man walked over to Howard's arm and kicked a little dirt on it before stomping on it and grinding his foot into it a bit. "You led us here. We followed your tracks. You think it was a coincidence that rope was a little looser than usual? Please." He spat before continuing. "You and your 'Blacksteel Battalion' have gotten pretty famous, and arrogant as of late. So popular in fact that when we found out you were in the area we made sure to formulate a plan to catch one of you and get your location to wipe you all out before you could retaliate. You were good to hold your tongue that long but your own feet betrayed you Mr. Howard." Howard's body stiffened as he heard his name roll off his former captor's lips and it was very apparent. "Oh, wondering how I knew your name? Here." The man carefully put down his blood soaked machete and dug into a large messenger bag slung over his shoulder. He pulled out an object and rolled it over to Howard with a carefully aimed kick. As it slowly rolled to a stop and Howard's eyes focused in on the object his stomach turned as he realized it was a head. The head of his best friend and tent mate. "We offed him first. Stupid kid thought I was you! 'Howard, Howard!' little s**t was overjoyed. Well until he got within shooting distance. I'm a shitty shot so I only winged him but I'm killer with a blade but I guess you already know that." He laughed and gave Howard's arm a few more stomps for good measure. "He was just a kid..." It took the machete wielding man off guard to see Howard stand up, death and fire shining in his eyes. Howard's humanity was gone, it had been seeping out slowly since the end, since the world didn't make any sense, since he found himself relishing the savory meat of sewer rats like they were five star meals, since he saw corpses as opportunities to rifle through a fresh set of pockets; but this kid, he still had that. He had only been in the Battalion for a little under a month, he was only allowed guard duty but he hung on Howard's every word when he dispensed advice or instructions. He was such a sweet soul. He would soon be corrupted and be reborn a monster like all the rest of them but he had time. Time that was cut short by... "YOU!! He was just a kid, I'LL KILL YOU! At that moment there was a blinding white light and an explosion. The last thing Howard could remember at that moment was the look of terror on his captor's face and a serene feeling of calm.

Howard woke up a few days later on the back of a rolling cart surrounded by familiar faces: Survivors of the raid. They told him that the light had come from his severed arm and it had completely wiped the Machete Man out leaving nothing bloody smudge. Howard was apparently no better. When they checked the aftermath most of his left side was gone and he wasn't moving much. Out of respect he was going to be buried but he remains started squirming and screaming as the first pile of dirt hit him. Scared the s**t out of most but the most senior of the Battalion basically mummified him and took him along. Whether it was morbid curiosity or a sense of duty no one could say but they took him along. As the days passed he started to look a little better and his wounds began to reform, albeit with a bloodcurdling scream to accompany it. Howard looked down and lifted a heavy blanket to see his legs were still missing but it hit him like a ton of bricks that he was lifting the blanket with his left hand purely out of reflex. He lowered the blanket and sat in silence for a long time. This would be the first of many explosive experiences Howard would have as a member. Howard wasn't sure this was a blessing or curse but he resigned himself to deal with it.

That rainy day was the death of Howard Gatlin and the birth of Gatlin: The Flesh and Blood Cannon of the Blacksteel Battalion.

He hated the name but it scared the s**t out of would be enemies and if that meant less bloodshed he could live with that.

***


The crash of sheet metal snapped Howard out of his daydream followed by a scrawny looking cat darting down the alley.

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User ImageAnother dead lead.

His eyes, a deep blue, fell to the floor of the office he had inhabited. It was still along the outskirts of the city, a quadrant only identified by the lights and sounds emitted from it. He was not afraid of people knowing where he was. He wanted it. He'd never have admitted it, but Alain was praying that Adeline would come back to him. Whether she was there to kill him or kiss him, he would allow either.

Standing, his large form grasped the sledgehammer at his side. His body weighed an incredible amount due to his enhancements, so he was slow. But he was lethal. His body moved forward and people seemed to tense around him. A few guards visibly changed their affects and form but Alain said nothing. The man with the literal iron fist only moved.

His movements must have alerted those below him because the young woman in charge of security came skittering forward. She was pretty, in the way a magazine model is pretty, but she was never someone Alain took to. Her blonde hair was chopped close to her head, her eyes a sort of speckled silver and green from the bionic enhancements. She saw all cameras, all security, and it all went into her eyes, "Sir, we've yet to track any solid leads on the unenhanced, but we have reason to believe some of the mutants are on the outskirts. We're not sure when this showed up, but a figure seemed to... appear just a moment ago in the international district."

The woman strolled along with Alain, stopping only to make a few images appear on a large screen before them. Alain would see a figure cloaked in a gorgeous scarlet cloak. He didn't need to be told more than that, or that there was more to go on, because that was enough. It took his strength not to trace where he knew the outline of her jaw was, or where he knew the scar had settled on her features. Instead, he lifted a hand and smashed the screen.

Beside him the woman lept back, "Sir! I'm sorry we can send out-" She was cut off by a heavy hand raised, "Enough! No. Let them stir." He wasn't going to explain anything to the twit standing beside him. None of them would understand if he explained that the only person to ever love him was standing on a roof. None would comprehend if he told them that she was his only weakness, both literally and figuratively. Addy could penetrate the entirety of his setup without once being detected. Her skills were finely sharpened before they had parted ways and he doubted much had changed. She was still stubborn. Still stupid. Still stunning.

He ran a hand through his hair and turned, holding the hammer still and made his way down the stairs. Looking at Alain one might notice that he was strong, but the depth of that would be impossible to guage unless you touched him. His skin was skin, but beneath that was armor. He had walled his body away. His heart. His everything. He had made himself a terror and a force to be reckoned with. He was born anew while Adeline had gone on to live her life as a ghost.
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