Perspectives: ReciprocApril 2013

[Static Bolter]

(( Okay so I know we were sort of talking about doing these using old versions but given that there was such a nice resource all written up I thought I might have a stab at writing the first piece set in Advent. Hope it's okay and nothing's too far out of character Ducky. ))

(( Also FIRST ))

The twisted metal archway that marked the entrance to the Advent Living Museum had been cordoned off by police barriers about twenty minutes ago, but thankfully Alexis had made her harried trek towards the scene via rooftop, having already been above the city when she'd first heard the chatter over the police scanners. From there it was a simple (though moderately terrifying) leap over the high stone wall and down, down, down into what had turned out to be the gorilla habitat. The young heroine took a moment to concentrate as fractures in her legs re-knit, her teeth grit to keep control of the pain that was fading away. With another glance around, awkwardly making eye contact with a wizened old ape that was industriously exploring its left nostril, she hopped across the moat that separated the habitat from the wall and scrambled up onto the pathway. That fall had been tiring enough, but there was work to be done.

Alexis was unfamiliar with the zoo's exact layout, but the sounds of shouting and flashing lights of a few more police vehicles were easy enough to follow. At her approach one of the officers glanced up, then swung round and raised his sidearm, his eyes widening. "Sarge, we've got another one!" he announced. Alexis blinked and raised her hands in a placating gesture as another police officer turned to look at her. "I'm not another one!" she breathlessly answered in a rush. "I'm here to help! Err...another what, anyway?"

The sergeant grunted and relaxed his stance, gesturing to the other officer. "Lower your weapon, Jenkins." His attention returned to the series of sectioned off areas beyond the cop cars that blocked the walkway. "He means another 'mythological hero', miss," he continued. "We got ourselves a bona fide crazy; broke in about forty minutes ago, yelling something about testing himself. He's in with the big cats somewhere. We're just holding here 'til someone figures out what the game plan is with the keepers."

"He's...testing himself with the big cats?" Alexis asked, somewhat nonplussed. She stepped up beside the police sergeant and peered down the wide paved walkway that led towards the zoo's more dangerous and popular animal exhibits. The booming sound of a man's raised voice was echoing back faintly, his laughter and shouting just barely drowning out the noise of a number of distressed-sounding roars and growls made by Advent Living Museum's regular inmates. The few policemen standing at the barrier seemed to be waiting expectantly, their attention on Alexis. She opened her mouth, but couldn't quite think of anything appropriate to say. "Well..." she finally began, "I'll just go ahead and...see if I can sort that out then." Clearing her throat, the young woman slid across the hood of the police car, careful not to snag the edge of her toga on anything. She readied her bow and trod forward towards the riotous sounds ahead.

As Alexis rounded the corner towards the observation deck that overlooked the lion enclosure another booming laugh split the air, ringing with bravado. A jagged looking hole had been smashed in the thick plexi-glass window that generally separated man from beast; the hole was currently serving as an exit for a well-built man in perhaps his early thirties, with long shaggy hair and a well kept beard. "Well fought, my worthy adversary! Take this moment to prepare yourself for another bout!" the man declared, dusting off his hands. He was absolutely covered in scratches and clawmarks, but seemed to pay them no mind, dropping back to his feet with an air of determination and satisfaction. He was also completely naked. Alexis cleared her throat and averted her eyes, though the sound served only to draw the man's attention. He readied himself to face attack, then paused ask he took in Alexis' appearance and straightened with a proud grin stretching across his features. "Ah! Gentle nymph! Have you come to honour mighty Hercules? Forgive me, the deed is not yet done! Fear not though, I shall dispatch my foe after a moment's rest."

This information took a moment to process. Alexis loosened the slack on her bowstring, glancing from the muscled lunatic to the hole in the lion exhibit and back again. "...were you just...wrestling a lion?"

"The first of many trials to come, oh fair and lovely nymph. The beast has proven himself to be more of a challenge than I had first believed, but I am confident. The mighty Hercules cannot be bested!" The madman paused for a dramatic pose and Alexis was forced once again to momentarily avert her eyes. "Look uh...maybe it would be a good idea if you were to put on some trousers? I mean...wouldn't want that...scratched..."

"A man needs all his faculties unrestricted to engage in the noble art of wrestling!" Hercules replied in a decisive tone, then shook with another pleased laugh as an angry roar burst from the long grass on the other side of the thick glass wall. "My opponent is impatient to die, beautiful nymph! You should await me here."

Alexis sighed and raised her bow again, readying to fire. If that man was a demi-god she'd hope she'd know. Besides, it was 'Heracles', not 'Hercules'. "You need to stop this, sir."

"Stop?!" the man asked incredulously, as though the idea of not committing cat-ricide had never occurred to him.

"You can't kill that lion," Alexis explained, her tone taking on the special sound reserved for small children and mental-patients. "That's Arnold. He lived through the fire. He's like a city institution."

"And I shall treat his pelt with honour, wearing it proudly once I strip it from his hide!" Hercules explained, though the last part grew louder, seemingly as a threat to the creature still in his cage. The roar that followed suggested Arnold recognised the tone, and didn't like it.

With a frown Alexis lined up her shot, holding the string taut with one of her specially tricked out flash arrows ready to fly. "If you won't stop, then I'll have to stop you."

The naked madman laughed at this and treated the young heroine to a winning smile. "I do like a woman of spirit! Once I have dispatched my foe and the trial is done then I shall allow you to detain me as much as you wish, lovely nymph, but not before." He turned towards the hole leading to the lion enclosure. On reaction Alexis let the arrow fly, aiming for the wall by Hercules' head, however his arm snapped out and hand closed quickly around its shaft as though the effort were nothing. Hercules turned back to hold the arrow forth with another proud grin. Then it burst forth with white, blinding light.

The tint of Alexis' goggles was designed to withstand the flash, but at such range even she had to blink twice to fully recover her sight. She took two faltering steps back when she noticed Hercules' expression, his face all screwed up. The arrow snapped in his fist. "That was a mistake, little creature. I shall have to teach you a lesson!"

Alexis turned and fled back down the pathway towards the police cordon, fumbling to draw another arrow in the hopes of slowing down the naked male specimen of madness that was hot on her heels. Spinning mid-run she loosed another arrow, the capsule attached to its tip bursting on contact to release an oily payload across the ground behind her before she continued on. Sadly her pursuer avoided the obstacle with a single fluid leap, then kept loping closely behind her. The officers at the barrier snapped to nervous action when they saw the two heroic figures bearing down on them, the undisciplined Jenkins firing off a volley of bullets as Alexis dove back across the hood of the nearest car and rolled to her feet. Hercules laughed loudly as his skin amazingly turned the shots aside with barely a graze.

"Behold the power of the son of Zeus!" The madman raved, bending to find purchase on the metal frame of the police vehicle with his hands, then slowly lifting it above his head with a faint grunt. The policemen scattered, firing a couple more ineffectual shots as they radioed for immediate backup. Alexis gasped, yet her gaze was fixed just behind the imposing figure before her.

With a loud and enraged snarl Arnold the lion lunged for his foolish, fleshy attacker's unguarded leg, having clambered out of the cage that had held him for so many years in search of revenge. The man let out an exclamation of pain and surprise as he dislodged the big angry cat and kicked him away, however the damage was done; while bearing such a burden Hercules lost his footing and toppled over, the heavy police car dropping down upon him with a resounding smash. Arnold roared and raked his claws across the car door with a screech of metal as the fight was denied to him, then turned in search of his next prey.

Tail waving slowly with each step, the lion stalked closer to Alexis, readying to spring forward. The young woman backed just as slowly away from the big cat, trying to keep what distance she could as her brain worked feverishly. There were a couple of strategically planted trees nearby, but nothing close enough for her to scramble up before the lion reached her. She could maybe hop into a nearby enclosure, but given that a quick glance showed it to be housing a trio of bears she didn't think that would be a particularly good trade off. She couldn't shoot Arnold either, she'd just worked to keep someone else from killing him and wasn't going to risk spoiling that now. She'd have to stall; surely the police would be back with the zoo keepers any moment now?

Arnold got impatient and lunged forward, his powerful front paws outstretched with wicked looking claws extended. Alexis rolled to the side, her heart beating wildly in her chest at the narrow escape. Taking a few more slow steps away from the stalking cat as he readied for another lunge she blindly felt across the fletching of her various arrows, weighing up what options were left to her. Another flash arrow? It would probably just make Arnold angry. Sticky arrow? That was designed more for hampering people. ALL her arrows were designed for...wait. Her fingers closed around one slightly larger bolt. It hadn't been perfected yet; even with the lightest polymer threads the missile was heavy and inaccurate, but she was close enough that accuracy didn't mean much...

The internal debate was answered for her when the furious lion leapt in attack once more. Alexis' hand snapped up and loosed the overlarge arrow straight for her feline assailant; the force of the bowstring sent a shiver along the shaft so that it began to come apart, splitting outwards into a mesh of fibres that closed around the lunging lion's body. Arnold roared in surprise and confusion at suddenly finding himself caught, but his momentum was enough to bring him crashing forward the rest of the way towards Alexis as she struggled to use the last split second to duck out of the way, catching a flailing swipe of claws across her thigh in the process. She'd bought herself enough time though, as Arnold directed his attention to shredding the net he'd been enveloped in the cavalry arrived, keepers racing to attempt to tranquilise the angry cat and police rushing all over the scene shouting directions to each other.

Alexis got back to her feet with the help of the police sergeant she'd spoken to previously and after working to heal the nasty fleshwound on her leg turned to point towards the car where the unfortunate Hercules had been pinned, but stopped in surprise with her arm outstretched when she saw the vehicle left on its side; little more than a depression in the ground marked the man's presence. The sergeant grunted softly as he surveyed the scene. "Don't worry miss, he can't have gotten far. Crazy guy like that is bound to turn up."

"That's what worries me," Alexis replied with a soft frown.

[Black Starbeam]

(( Much like Bolty, I know we weren't setting these in Advent, but I thought it would be fun. ))

Before we get started with this month's installment, a quick word from the King:

This month we have a special guest writer for you to enjoy, Loyal Subjects! Widely celebrated film producer and actor, Gavin Jones has graciously agreed to step in to write this month's issue for us. You may be familiar with Gavin's work on many of his own films such as Seeking Amber. Now, relax as Gavin takes us on a ride he likes to call...







Early evening was always an enjoyable time of night, but especially on a Friday. Scores of people flooded the sidewalks, filling the air with the sound of merriment as they enjoyed the end of their working week with their friends and colleagues. They drifted into and out of a variety of bars along Tavern Alley in Advent City's entertainment district. It was a good time of night to be a hero. People were still happy, but hadn't yet drunk enough to start doing stupid things or to fall prey to those doing stupid things. It was time to relax.

High above Tavern Alley, one such hero sat upon a gargoyle that jutted out from a high-rise. His eyes scanned the streets below from time to time, but he wasn't concerned with patrolling right now. Like the crowds below, it was time for him to relax and enjoy the calm before the storm. He sat with his back propped up against the building, his legs resting along the gargoyle's back and his large, bat-like wings extended out fully to either side of his body. In his brown-furred arms rested a Gibson Flying V, being quietly strummed through some chord practice. The soft tones of his strumming joined the sounds of merriment below. The sounds of drinking salaried workers were picked up by his hypersensitive ears, snippets of conversations, glasses clinking, people laughing, pool balls clacking together as darts thunked into the soft dartboards and a Woodrow Wilstoch cover band started the opening riff to The Future is Comin'.

The Freaky Noisebomb paused his practice at the sound of the song and started to play along. He opened his elongated mouth to the clear evening sky and began to amplify the tones of his guitar, bellowing the classic rebel anthem into the night. Some of the people walking along the streets below began to stare up into the sky, looking for the source of the music. He continued to play after the band had finished the song, shifting into another song, one he'd written in high school. If he had nothing else, at least Chad Jefferson still had his music to rely on. The lyrics burned through his mind as he played, reminding him of the Chad he once was, the carefree, invincible youth.

He dramatically increased the volume as he blasted into his guitar solo, overshadowing the band for many of those walking along the street many stories beneath him. He dropped a killer E-major moments before the unmistakable crunch of shattering glass a few blocks away intruded on his quiet night. He stopped mid-solo, eliciting a displeased sound from the crowd below, but he needed all his attention for a moment. There were only a few outcomes from breaking glass. Either someone had already had too much and broken something, a member of the bar staff made a mistake, a bar fight was breaking out or... something else. The next few seconds of sound would tell him what one it was. They would tell him if his relaxing evening was about to become infinitely less relaxing.

He scowled as he heard the crack of gunfire ringing out from roughly the same place as the shattering glass. His evening was about to become infinitely less relaxing. He slung his guitar over his shoulder, adjusting it so that it sat along his spine, resting between his wings as he spread them outward. He dropped forward, falling towards the ground to gain some momentum before spreading his wings again, catching the air and propelling him at speed along Tavern Alley. The sight of an enormous man-shaped bat silhouette caused the crowds who were taking the time to look upward to gasp audibly, but he wasn't interested in winning popularity contests right now. His ears twitched as he tried to hone in on the sporadic bursts of gunfire. He banked left, swinging down an alleyway and catching a gentle updraft, increasing his altitude. His ears continued to twitch more and more before suddenly zeroing in on a target.

A slightly taller building than the others around it was the source of the gunfire. It had clearly been rebuilt after the fire in a far more modern style than the buildings around it, glistening with mirrored windows and chrome. Without an easy way to see in, there was only one way to verify what he'd heard. The Noisebomb raised both furred arms to protect his face and slammed into the window with full force. Shards of glass tinkled to the ground around him as he tumbled head-first into the room, to the startled and surprised looks of cowering people in cocktail dresses and suits.

Chad stood up and took stock of the situation, worried for a moment that he'd crashed the wrong party. It was then that he noted three goons with semi-automatic weapons moving amongst the crouched party guests, brandishing sacks full of diamonds and valuables. Six more stood around the outside of the party, focusing their weapons on any guests that thought they might like to take advantage of the distraction. At the center of the room, what must have once been a spectacular crystal punch bowl now lay shattered on the ground, the red punch staining the carpet under the scattered shards of crystal and fruit. In its place on the table, there stood a tall man with his arms spread wide, wearing a black domino mask and a set of tights that left nothing of his well-muscled form to the imagination. The colours shifted on his tights in a disorienting manner, seeming to have no discernible pattern. His biceps bulged at the fabric as he held his arms outstretched and a smile broke his face.

"Welllllll gentlemen. It looks like we have a party crasher. Other than ourselves that is! Go ahead sir, introduce yourself." he held his hand out to the Noisebomb, inviting him to speak.

"ME? I'M THE NOISEBOMB" he responded, standing proudly as he looked over the assembled hoodlums, trying to come up with a plan in his head.

"Theeee Noisebomb? Well, it looks like The Noisebomb needs to find his inside voice. Gentlemen? What do we do with intruders?"

The Noisebomb's hearing caught the sound of nine weapons being cocked and readied to fire. He sprung away from the shattered window, hiding expertly behind a stone statue as bullets thunked down into it, sending chips of marble spraying across the room. Over the constant chipping of stone and explosions of gunpowder, Chad was just able to hear the man's voice ring out again.

"How careless of me, I forgot to introduce myself. I am Post-Production, at your service."

Thoughts ran through the Noisebomb's head as he considered his options. He let out a quick hypersonic screech, just enough to distract people and popped his furred face around the side of the statue. Everyone in the middle of the room was shaking their head, the gunmen, the hostages and Post-Production. The gunmen circling the crowd, however were completely unaffected by the sonic assault and continued to fire. Chad noticed just in time to take cover behind the statue again as bits of plaster started bursting out from the wall behind him. It was then that he noticed the first anomaly. The sounds of gunfire weren't actually coming from the barrels of the guns, but a few inches below that. It took a moment for him to figure out why, but the pieces fell into place as he noticed that the gunmen on the outside of the circle only seemed to be able to hit the wall.

"... THEY'RE NOT REAL." the Noisebomb attempted to whisper.

Realising he'd blown any surprise that he'd managed to earn, he jumped into action, shoving the statue away from him and allowing it to topple forward onto the ground. He spread his wings and jumped onto the fallen statue, retrieving the Flying V from his back as he did so.

"HEY BOYS. YOU DIDN'T LET ME FINISH MY SOLO."

With that, he blasted out the last few notes of his chord progression, using his voice to amplify the sound and directing it at each of the gunmen in turn. The three in the middle were sent soaring through the air, their sacks of stolen goods flying, showering gold and jewels onto the hostages. One by one the men hit the wall with a solid kludd and slumped into unconsciousness. He slammed his hand across the strings one last time to strum out a final chord, using his voice to spread it across the room in a wide burst. Everyone in the room staggered back a step except the six gunmen standing on the outside of the group. They opened fire on him, but Chad, confident in his new knowledge ignored them, focusing on Post-Production himself.

"I KNOW YOUR LITTLE TRICK, BRO."

Post-Production glared back with a sneer, hopping from the table with a short, jaunty step. The gunmen surrounding the room began to disappear slowly, leaving only the hostages, three unconscious henchmen and Post-Production himself.

"Verrrrry clever Mr. Noisebomb. But if you think that's my only trick, you're very much mistaken."

The muscular villain snapped his fingers and the lights in the room went out instantly, only to very quickly be replaced with a series of flashing lights in a range of colours. When the lights came back on, The Noisebomb was completely surrounded by Post-Production. Seventeen copies of the grinning man stood around him, all looking completely identical and all staring at him menacingly, with nothing but blackness beyond the ring of copies.

"It's verrrrry simple, you see. You desperately flail for your life, then one of us chokes the life out of you. No more hero, I get my diamonds, everyone's happy."

The Noisebomb's ears perked up at the sound, trying to pinpoint the speaker, but to no avail. The noise seemed to come from all directions at once. Whoever this Post-Production guy was, he was good. But the Noisebomb wasn't out of tricks yet. He let out a scream that bounced around the area. Post-Production chuckled at him.

"Isssss that all you have, Mr. Noisebomb? What can you trust when you can't trust your own eyes?"

The Noisebomb swung his Flying V like a true axe, bringing it crashing into the side of the true Post-Production's head. The illusions dropped as the muscular villain coughed up a mouthful of blood and fell to the ground in agony. The Noisebomb inspected the damage to the guitar as the room returned to normal around him. He leaned forward and offered Post-Production a toothy grin.

"I'M BLIND"

[Alexis Apollo]

((Vis! I wrote you a story! I hope this in some way resembles Sean!))

It's time for another installment of Reciprocators: Perspectives! In this week's issue... Sean Casus, aka mutant superhero Hypersonic, takes a break from crimefighting to take a beautiful woman out on a date to the ice skating rink. But the date soon turns into a disaster as he must face-off against the most dangerous kind of villain: a jealous ex-boyfriend!

I admit, I was really nervous, since this was my first date since I got paroled. Even worse, Maggie was really good looking. Tall and curvy and long brown curls and man, her smile... So I was sweating bullets trying to remember what girls liked to do on dates that wouldn't bankrupt me. She beat me to it though, asked if I wanted to go to the ice skating rink.

It took me a while to re-learn how to skate, but we had a lot of fun. She's from Toronto and studying to be a geologist. She really likes hockey and soft pretzels and Mad Men. I wasn't sure at what point I should mention that I'm a mutant ex-felon vigilante; the night was going really well so I thought maybe that's better second date material.

I was gathering up courage to ask if she wanted to go out again, maybe go to a hockey game sometime, when out of nowhere this hockey puck clocks me right in the side of the head, POW! Since I'm balancing awkwardly on skates it knocks me right on my ass and I'm seeing stars for a few seconds. At this point I figure it was some punk kid and I'm looking around for the little shit that threw the puck, and that's when I see the guy.

There he was at the opposite end of the rink, a big tall dude in--I kid you not--mecha hockey armor. He had a real New York Rangers meets Power Rangers look going, pointy black chrome and a metal hockey mask with glowing red eyes. He had this oversized hockey stick in his right hand, and strapped to his left arm was some kinda Megaman cannon. Turns out it shoots hockey pucks, because he fires another one, but this time I'm prepared and focused enough to sap all the momentum out of it and it falls about ten feet short.

Suddenly everyone on the rink freaks out and runs for the exits, leaving just me, Maggie and Goalie From Hell. I'm torn right about now, thinking oh Christ, I am not in the mood for a superpowered fight right in the middle of my date, but on the other hand I'm thinking, it's time to step up and be a hero, protect the public, impress the girl. So I get between hockeybot and Maggie, and I turn to tell her to run, but she doesn't look scared at all. No, in fact she's got this look on her face of total embarrassment.

I've no time to ask her what's up though, because Wayne Regretsky points his stick right at me and shouts, "You and me! Right here, right now! One-on-one!"

"Who tha hell are you?!" I yell back, and I'm trying to keep from laughing. This guy, it was just pathetic. Arachnos and their cheesy spider fetish I could deal with, but a crazy guy in a robo hockey getup? Come on.

"My name..." he growls, banging his stick against his chestplate for emphasis, "is SLAPSHOT! And I'm gonna put you on ice!"

He starts popping off more shots in my direction, bang bang bang! I'm sapping the energy from the pucks as fast as I can, but he just keeps firing, and I gotta find somewhere to shed all this excess energy before I melt a hole in the ice. Suddenly it dawns on me: Instead of trying to stop the pucks, why not send them right back at the bastard? It takes a little more focus, but I start slingshotting those pucks around my body, flinging them right back in his face.

Of course, the suit he's wearing could probably withstand an artillery shell, so the pucks just bounce off, no matter how much speed I put into them. I'm hoping he runs out of ammo soon, when suddenly Maggie starts shouting at him.

"KEITH!" she yells. "Keith, stop it!"

I turn to her, and say, "Wait-- you know this freak?!" and that was a mistake, because while I'm distracted one of the pucks gets through and nails me right in the gut, knocks all the wind out of me, and I crumple like tinfoil.

While I'm flat on the ice gasping for air, "Keith" stops shooting and raises his stick in celebration. "He shoots he scooooores!" he says, and--get this--he starts making cheering crowd noises. Yeah. I would've laughed if it wasn't painful enough just trying to breathe.

Now Maggie, she gets mad. She skates right up to the guy, gets up in his face, fists balled. "Keith! Quit it! You're hurting him! I told you it's over! We're done!" And then it dawns on me... geez, All-Star here is Maggie's psycho ex-boyfriend?!

Slapshot tilts his head and just stares at her like her words aren't sinking in. He lifts his mask and I get a look at his face: Square jaw, stubble, grease paint under his eyes, nose all bent out of shape from too many fractures... and of course, hockey hair. Long, sweaty hockey hair.

He just stares dumbly at her, points a gloved finger in her face. "No! It's not over! We're a team! You're my puck bunny, forever!" He shoves her out of the way, turns his attention back to me. "And I'm gonna pound any hoser that touches my girl!"

Slapshot starts closing on me, slowly thanks to the enormous suit of ridiculous armor he's wearing. "All right, you wanna play? Fine..." I mutter. I'm back on my feet and royally pissed off; I'm through playing games with this punk.

There's a small crowd gathered at the edge of the rink, some peewee league hockey team, and they're cheering me on. Slappy roars and is bearing down on me, bracing for a hard shoulder check, and I know if he reaches me I'm in for a world of pain. But I got a surprise for him...

He's about ten feet away when I take a deep breath and let loose everything I've got in one powerful low-frequency shout. BOOM--The concussive force of the sonic blast shatters the ice ahead of me, and when it hits Slapshot he just gets absolutely blown away. I can't imagine what it sounded like inside that metal suit. He tumbles head over skates and lands flat on his back, sliding all the way back to the far wall.

====================

"And that's when the crowd goes wild." Sean leans back in the barstool, a wide grin on his face. "Game over."

The Black Starbeam nods. "Good work." The faceplate conceals his mouth, but Sean thinks he can spot the signs of a smile in his glowing yellow eyes. "So what did she say?"

"Huh?"

"Maggie. You asked her on a second date, right?"

"Well, uh... she was pretty upset, ya know? And I got outta there before the cops and the media circus, so..." Sean trails off with a shrug, taking a swig of his beer.

Starbeam nods. "I see."

The two Reciprocators sit in silence for a while, watching the news ticker scroll by on the TV over the bar. Sean presses the cold glass bottle against his bruised temple where the puck nailed him.

"You should have gone for the second date."

Sean rolls his eyes and tips back his beer. "Geez. Talk about a Monday morning quarterback..."

"That's football."

"Yeah I know."