Posts Tagged ‘ #hellcat ’

#TheDefenders Chapter 5 Snippet

Hey all, been a bit busy so sorry for the delay before I finally got this post up!

 

Introducing a new character into #TheDefenders verse in this snippet. So, I hope you all enjoy. If you’d like to read a full chapter or maybe more from the defenders please send any inquiries to me on Twitter or hit my email majinwiru@gmail.com.

 

 

Nyssa

***

The first thing Nyssa heard when she came to was, “Well, this is new! Usually I’m the comatose one…” Her eyes shot open. She found herself staring at the gaunt, pale face of Jameson Smith. This was not a comforting sight, a fact that Jameson was aware of through years of experience. Thus he didn’t blame her for narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “Who are you?” she aksed commandingly. “And where am I?”

 

Jameson gave a polite cough. “I’m Jameson Smith. You are in my house.” He smiled in what he hoped was a charmingly disarming manner. “We’ve—met earlier.”

 

Nyssa’s eyebrow shot up slightly. Her eyes remained very narrow. “I think I vaguely remember that. Are you the one who felt me up?”

 

“Oh, for the last time, you weren’t felt up!” snapped Jameson.

 

This answer was in many respects unfortunate, as it caused Nyssa’s eyebrows to arch higher. “What do you mean, ‘for the last time’?”

 

Jameson’s eyes widened in stark terror. “Something that has nothing to do with the subject at hand?” he suggested hopefully.

 

Jameson was something of an expert in withering glances, due to a combination of natural disposition, and extensive training. He was quite capable of making a brave man whimper, then wet himself with one screw faced glance. And with such expertise, he could say that Nyssa’s gaze was the visual equivalent of thumbscrews, being fully capable of making an utter sociopath break down and confess to years old crimes.

 

Jameson gulped, and managed a soft laugh. “I really think we should leave vague uncertain happenings in the vague uncertain past, where they will continue to be vague, uncertain, and never spoken of again. Ever!” He smiled broadly, then glanced nervously away.

 

Nyssa took a deep breath. “Listen, I can sympathize with your—difficulties, but realize this is not a situation that engenders trust.”

 

“Oh, come on!” said Jameson, annoyed. “Do I look like the kind of man who preys on helpless young women he finds on the street?” He winced, “Don’t answer that.”

 

Nyssa screwed up her mouth. “Actually the fact you asked had me looking for a blunt object.”

 

“You’ve given that up?” asked Jameson with a note of hope.

“You don’t look that formidable,” replied Nyssa. “I think I can take you.”

 

Jameson blinked. “How courteous of you to tell me that.”

 

“Please step back. I don’t want to have to hurt you.”

 

Jameson looked at her. She had an odd way of speaking, actually—a slight accent, which was to be expected, though Jameson couldn’t for the life of him place it, and a very formal tendency in her diction that was very—off­putting.

 

He had no idea why he’d thought she was so amazingly attractive. It had clearly been a momentary lapse of reason.

 

Especially comparing her to Ashley.

 

Not that he had done that.

 

He had no idea why he suddenly felt so guilty.

 

Nyssa stared at him. “Are you always so fidgety?”

 

Jameson fidgeted awkwardly. “What are you talking about?”

 

“That would be a yes,” murmured Nyssa.

 

Jameson blinked, then glared at her. “You know, I face a lot of trouble, and a lot of annoyance, so you’d think I’d be used to it, but in fact all that happens is I get more and more irritated,” stated Jameson, gesturing emphatically. “And now you come along, ask me for help, and then start picking me apart like a freaking game of Jenga, and it’s all I can do to not lose my temper—”

 

“What was that?” asked Nyssa, startled. “Before the part about you losing your temper?”

 

“Jenga,” said Jameson. “It’s a game where you stack these blocks, and you start picking them out of the stack, and putting them on top of it—”

 

“No, before that. I asked you for help?”

 

“Yes, and I felt pity, and gave it to you, an action for which the universe has seen fit to mock me once again,” said Jameson.

 

Nyssa stared at him for a moment, then glanced away. “I see. My apologies, My remarks were—unfair.”

 

“Also catty, sarcastic, and cruel,” noted Jameson. “But thanks for the apology.”

 

Nyssa placed her hands on her hips. “I’m starting to regret it.” As Jameson opened his mouth, she gestured that she wasn’t finished. “But please—I have been on the run for some time now and it has damaged my courtesy. Also, you’re appearance doesn’t exactly inspire trust.”

 

“Oh, thank you,” muttered Jameson. “People are just bowling me over with compliments today…”

 

Nyssa took a deep flustered breath. “Look, let’s just this out on different footing.”

 

“Sounds reasonable.” Jameson shut his eyes. “So, Nyssa—”

 

“How do you know my name?” she snapped.

 

“You told me earlier,” he stated calmly. “Now, where do you come from?”

 

“I’d rather not say,” Nyssa answered curtly.

 

“What’s your full name?”

 

“That’s really not important.”

 

“Is there someone I should contact?”

 

“I really don’t know.”

 

Jameson frowned severely. “Well aren’t you a kettlepot of useful information? I already feel my hostility dissolving in the face of your open nature and exceptional trust.”

 

Nyssa shut her eyes. “I couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to,” she said quietly. “The truth is, I don’t remember.”

 

Jameson blinked. “Amnesia?”

 

Nyssa stared at him. “You seem skeptical.”

 

“It’s greatly overrated,” noted Jameson, “People forget things for awhile, but rarely the vast tracks that tradition grants to amnesiacs.” Jameson thought that over. “Except the senile, and they lose most of their faculties. It’s not a pretty sight.” He glanced back at her. “So, what do you remember?”

 

Nyssa thought that over. “I know my first name but not my last. I know a great deal about your culture, but I don’t know how I learned it, and I don’t recall my own. I know your language, and though it sounds idiotic, I know it isn’t my language, but I don’t know how I know that, and I don’t know mine.” She blinked.

 

“The only thing I can recall about my family is that I had an uncle who died before I was born…” She glanced at Jameson. “Does the name ‘Namor’ ring a bell?”

 

“It doesn’t even register as a name,” said Jameson, “though since the sixties, anything is possible.”

 

“Jameson! We’re back!” came Karen’s voice.

 

Nyssa glanced at Jameson. “Who—?”

 

Jameson sighed. “My associates. You can trust them.” He shook his head. “Though if you’re going to jump at everything, I can just check you into a nearby asylum…”

 

Nyssa shut her eyes. “I was being chased by people!”

 

Jameson nodded. “You mentioned that when I picked you up.” He glanced at her. “Any idea who they are? Or has that also been conveniently blanked from your mind?”

 

“They haven’t introduced themselves,” stated Nyssa flatly.

 

Jameson seemed to be about to reply to that when Karen burst in holding a platter. “Ta da!” She placed the platter in front of Nyssa. “Your dinner is served!” She yamked off the cover.

 

“Well, that certainly took you long enough,” groused Jameson. “Hey, wait is that—”

 

Karen beamingly displayed the meal. “Your very own sushi platter!”

 

“You blew the money I gave you on sushi?!!” screamed Jameson.

 

Karen recoiled nervously. “You said to get food…”

 

“I was thinking ramen! Soba! Something cheap, and noodle­based! Not a very expensive sushi platter!” He looked the platter over. “You even got fatty salmon…”

 

“Jameson?” asked Karen quietly.

 

“That was my food money for the next two weeks…” muttered Jameson. “If I want to eat, I’m going to have to dip into my personal savings, which are not in the best shape right now.”

 

“Um, we’ll help…” offered Karen.

 

Jameson stared at her in disbelief. “No you won’t. You guys don’t have any money. That’s why you leech off me.”

 

“I can’t eat this,” announced Nyssa.

 

“What?” said Jameson suddenly.

 

Nyssa glanced at him awkwardly, then glanced down at the platter. “I can’t eat this. I’m a vegetarian.”

 

Jameson blinked. “Even for fish?”

 

Nyssa’s jaw clenched. “Especially for fish.” She looked Jameson. “I’m a pacifist, Mr. Smith, who holds all life sacred.”

 

“Oh, come on!” yelled Jameson. “They’re just fish! They don’t feel pain! I know—I’ve been fishing! I hooked the same fish five times! And had to keep throwing it back!”

 

Nyssa scowled “They do too feel pain! They just lack long­term memory! Can you imagine what that’s like? To be in horrific pain, and have no idea why?”

 

“Very easily,” muttered Jameson. He rubbed his temples. “Look, you claim that you can’t remember where you come from and what happened to you, but you do recall you’re a pacifistic vegetarian who’s inordinately fond of FISH!”

 

The pair glared at each other for awhile. Finally, Nyssa turned away. “I’m going to take bath. I need one. And I’m not going to eat that fish. That is the end of our discussion.” She walked out of the room.

 

Jameson watched her leave, then sat down and helped himself to the platter.

 

Karen blinked. “Jameson?!”

 

“She doesn’t want it, I paid for it—I will eat it then.” He scowled. “I am going to get some enjoyment out of this, because frankly, I’ve had enough trouble.”

 

Karen nodded slowly. “Oh.” She coughed. “Can I have some?”

 

“No.”

 

****

 

Jameson/Dr Strange

#TheDefenders Snippet Dr Strange vs Hellcat and Son of Satan

Hellcat

Hey all. Just a quick blog update before I head to work. Will spruce things up a bit more later on when I get away from work, until then hope you all enjoy!

 

Everyone give a special birthday shout out to #insomniacfamily member Shoom Isaacs today!(March 17th)

 

**

 

“So,” muttered an AIM member, “which of us will get the U-ray?”

 

Someone cleared their throat. “I believe the correct answer is ‘none of you’.”

 

It took everyone a moment to realize that the speaker was a pale young man in a rather expansive cape that had somehow wound up standing in the middle of them. He fidgeted nervously, as all eyes went on him. “Mind you—I’m just guessing. No need to take it seriously…”

 

“Who are you…?” said Sagittarius suspiciously.

 

“I’m Dr. Strange,” stated the young man with a nervous chuckle. He raised his hand. “Now, please back away from the van so that this whole affair ends to the satisfaction of all.”

 

“Or what…?” muttered a HYDRA agent menacingly.

 

A shimmying vortex appeared in Dr. Strange’s hand. “Or else, I will unleash the POWER OF THE TEMPEST!” A great blast of wind sent most of his opponents off their feet. “Winds! Buffet them! Lightning! Stun them! Rains! Umm…get them wet…” Elemental powers surged around him, tossing around the various agents as if they were kindling. In a few moments, most of the agents were lying prone on the ground, with the exception of those who were lying prone in trees, and prone on the tops of buildings.

 

Jameson glanced around, surprised. “That went immensely better than expected,” he commented quietly.

 

At that moment an arrow buried itself in the ground at his feet.

 

“Halt evildoer!” came a high voice.

 

Jameson rolled his eyes and whimpered. “Oh, perfect…” He turned.

 

“I don’t know what you’re doing here,” announced Karen in a lofty tone she considered awe-inspiring, “I just know that I don’t like it.”

 

Jameson sighed. “Well, it’s good to know you put a lot of thought into this…”

 

Karen leveled another arrow at him. “Hey! No mocking of my epic struggle against darkness! I demand you explain yourself…”

 

Jameson began to massage his forehead. He was really starting to wonder what this job was going to do to his health even if he did manage to avoid being eaten by something out of an H.R. Giger picture. “Look, you strange Halloween costume wearing girl, I really don’t care what you think—”

 

It was at that moment Jameson heard the sound of something hurtling through the air at great speed. He took a step to the right. And then two more, just to stay on the safe side.

 

Junichiro landed uneasily next to him, about three steps off.

 

Jameson glanced at him, then at Karen. “Pardon me, is this your pet?”

 

“Son of Satan!” yelled Karen. “You were supposed to get him with a flying tackle!”

 

“I tried!” shouted back Junichiro. “He sorta moved on me!”

 

“Oh, I’m tired of these constant excuses…” Karen muttered.

 

“Son of Satan?” stated Jameson flatly, eyes watching Karen with a combination of levity and despair.

 

“That’s right!” chirped Karen. “He’s Son of Satan, and I’m Hellcat!”

 

“Of course you are,” said Jameson with a pitying nod.

 

“Hey, we’re an up and coming superheroic duo!” She stated proudly.

 

“I’ve no doubt.” Jameson replied.

 

Karen pouted. “You should take us seriously.”

 

Jameson sighed. “Look, I’m guessing you two were bitten by radioactive wombats or something along those lines…”

 

“That’s not our origin at all!” cried Karen. “You see one day, I went to this old well—”

 

“I don’t care about your origin,” muttered Jameson. “My point is just because you’ve got X-ray vision doesn’t mean you should go blithely skipping off to make the world safe for fruit pies! Leave it to the professionals.” Even when they’ve only had a week of training and don’t quite feel up to the job, he added internally.

 

“We are professionals,” said Karen. “Professional good guys.”

 

She was, Jameson thought, exactly the sort of person who got themselves and others killed. Often in a slow, painful manner. “Look, normally I’d be nicer about this, but the truth is I reached my crazy crap limit an hour ago, and all I want to do is finish my work here, get home, soak in the tub, and come up with a compelling reason not to take the toaster in with me.” He took a deep breath. “So please, just let me get done here. And just—be careful.”

 

“HA!” said Karen triumphantly. “Nice try villain! But unfortunately for you, that Jewel shard in your pocket gives the truth away!”

 

Junichiro glanced at her. “Can I grab him now?”

 

Karen nodded. “You can grab him now.”

 

Junichiro grabbed Jameson by the shirt. “All right creep, I don’t know what your game is…”

 

“Well—I like Reversi…” Jameson coughed. “Look, about the shard—I’m really just holding it. For someone else. Really.” He flashed Junichiro a grin.

 

Junichiro snorted. “A likely story.”

 

Jameson shut his eyes. “You seem very sure of yourself for a man covered in scorpions.”

 

Junichiro glanced down at his shoulders, then blinked. “Sc-scorpions…?” He let out a piercing scream and dropped Jameson, then began to beat wildly at his shirt. “Get them off! Get them off!”

 

Jameson stood up, dusted off his cloak, and glanced at Karen. “Now, as for you, you’ve begun to irritate me, so I suggest you go do a mazurka.”

 

Karen stared at him, puzzled. “What’s a mazurka?”

 

“A sort of jig,” replied Jameson.

 

“They’re crawlin’ up my back!” screamed Junichiro. “Oh my God! They’re crawlin’ up my back!”

 

Karen coughed. “What’s a jig?”

 

Jameson began to squint in a manner that suggested a great deal of annoyance. “A variety of dance known for its energetic motions, and the fact that it can be danced solo.”

 

“Oh!” said Karen.

 

“They’re wrigglin’! They’re wrigglin’! Oh-oh-no-did I just feel a STING? Please no!”

 

Karen raised her bow. “I don’t think I’ll do it.”

 

Jameson’s eyes widened. “Oh, crap…”

 

Karen loosed her arrow.

 

Jameson shut his eyes, and raised his hand in panic.

 

The arrow dissolved in midair with an audible pop.

 

Jameson opened his eyes, and glanced up. He looked around for a moment, and then gave a relieved laugh. “Great. All my internal organs remain internal.”

 

Karen gulped.

 

“There’s one crawlin’ up my neck! There’s one crawlin’ up my neck!” squealed Junichiro.

 

Karen grabbed him, angrily. “Junichiro! I need your help!”

 

Junichiro screamed. “Don’t get ’em angry, Karen! They might sting!” He began to twitch. “Oh, NO, PLEASE, NOT NOW!”

 

Karen frowned. “There are NO scorpions on you!”

 

“Can’t you see them? Big hairy ones—with claws—an’ stingers, drippin’ with venom…”

 

“No scorpions!” shouted Karen.

 

Junichiro calmed a moment, then glanced himself over, surprised. “Umm, Karen?”

 

Karen glanced at him, concerned. “Yes?”

 

“Why’d I think I was covered in scorpions? Hell, why’d that frighten me anyway?”

 

“He did some evil mind thing on you,” said Karen, glaring at Jameson.

 

Junichiro looked at him and snarled. “Nobody plays with my mind.”

 

“Is that an issue of principles, or do they just have problems finding it?” asked Jameson.

 

Junichiro drew his sword, and rushed at him. “That’s it! You’re dead, freak!”

 

I’ve got to stop insulting these people, thought Jameson. They’re all so…touchy…

 

Junichiro slashed at Jameson with a mighty blow that would have cleft him in twain, had it actually hit.

 

Jameson stared at the bare patch of ground the Tetsaiga was presently lodged in, then glanced at Junichiro. “That was close.”

 

Junichiro jerked his sword free, and took another swing.

 

“I’m sorry about the scorpions, all right?” stated Jameson. “Does that make you happy?”

 

Junichiro grumbled to himself. It wasn’t that his opponent was especially fast—in fact he didn’t seem to even dodge his blows. He just had a way of being somewhere other than where you aimed…

 

Junichiro took another swing, screamed to himself, and then followed with a heavy swipe down that should have by all rights left Jameson with a very large gap in his skull. “Will you just get hit?” screamed Junichiro in frustration.

 

Jameson stepped slightly to the side. “Sorry, but while I’ve no doubt it’s a fascinating experience to be skewered by a gigantic blade, I’m going to have to pass on it. My deepest regrets.”

 

Junichiro was about to try for another swing, when the answer came to him. Don’t aim… Just attack… He charged forward, and managed a wild stab.

 

Jameson just barely managed to grab the sword as it plunged towards his skull. “Look…” he muttered, as Junichiro pressed Tetsaiga towards his head, “I thought I made myself clear—NOT getting skewered by the sword…” Slowly a reddish glow spread over the blade as Jameson tried to push it back through an act of Will.

 

He succeeded. Barely.

 

“I’m not letting you beat me!” screamed Junichiro.

 

“We can call it a draw!” cried back Jameson. “I find that solution very admirable!” Despite his efforts, the sword was creeping forward, towards his rather vulnerable skull.

 

It was at that moment that something neither of them was expecting happened.

 

“SIT!” cried Karen.

 

Junichiro fell forwards with enough force to unbalance Jameson, who fell backwards with a few feet away from the half demon. His falling also tore loose Tetsaiga. The blade soared briefly in the air, then fell to the ground, where, Jameson could not help but note, it landed only inches away from wiping out the existence of the Smith family name in all future generations.

 

“What’d ya do that for?” cried Junichiro to Karen as she rushed forward.

 

“I’m so sorry!” said Karen plaintively.

 

“Well, that’s more like it…” muttered Junichiro, as he righted himself.

 

Karen ran past him to Jameson. “We thought you were a supervillain! We really had no idea…”

 

“That,” muttered Jameson, with icy dignity, “was obvious.” He took a deep breath. “But you’re forgiven! Go buy yourself ice cream! Some place far, far away!”

 

Junichiro started. “Bu-but…” He let out a low scream. “What’s goin’ on?” He pointed at Jameson. “We were fightin’ him!”

 

Karen gave him a glare that immediately made Junichiro wish he were somewhere else, and quite possibly someone else as well. “Junichiro! Don’t you realize who he is? He’s a superhero!”

 

Junichiro blinked. “How’d ya figure that?”

 

Karen gave a cheerful laugh. “Through logic! He’s got a sacred jewel shard—but he isn’t using it! Only a good guy would do that, ’cause all bad guys are out for as much power as they can get. And ’cause no ordinary man could grab Tetsaiga, I realized we were with a fellow superhero!”

 

The look on Junichiro’s face made it clear he didn’t think much of her logic.

 

The furtive glance on Jameson’s face made it clear he didn’t either, but that he also felt no burning need to dissuade her.

 

Karen missed that glance, even as she went to grab his arm. “Like I said, I’m so sorry about that mix-up.” From her tone, a person would guess this was about a mistake involving house keys instead of a potentially deadly struggle. “We’re thrilled to meet you!” She turned to Junichiro, and gave him a pointed glance. “Aren’t we?”

 

“Yeah,” said Junichiro. “Thrilled.”

 

“So…” Karen paused, clearly puzzled. “Hey, I didn’t catch your name…” she stated cheery.

 

“That’s because I didn’t say it,” replied Jameson dourly.

 

“Oh.” Karen gave him a piteous look.

 

Jameson shoved his hands in his pockets, and glanced around awkwardly. “Dr. Strange.”

 

“Wow!” Karen beamed at him. “That is a good name!” She glanced at Junichiro. “Isn’t it, Son of Satan?”

 

Junichiro grimaced. “Well, it sure as hell beats MINE!” He leaned forward urgently. “Can we at least go back to our REAL names in private, Karen? This is gettin’ ridiculous…”

 

“Quiet, Son of Satan!” hissed Karen. “And call me Hellcat!”

 

Jameson walked ahead quietly. They seemed busy, which meant he could just take care of the shard here and leave.

 

“Hey! Whatcha doin’?” said Karen cheerfully.

 

Jameson shuddered slightly. “Just taking care of this pesky little sacred jewel shard…”

 

Karen gave another enthusiastic nod. “Oh, Son of Satan and I can help! We have a duty to collect those things…”

 

“About time you remembered that…” muttered Junichiro.

 

Jameson glanced around. Something was wrong, and he had an awful idea what it was. “That’s nice,” he said absently.

 

Karen gave a cheerful laugh. “I just want to say this is an honor.” She leaned forward so that she dominated Jameson’s field of vision. “We’re eager to learn at the metaphorical feet of an experienced superhero such as yourself.”

 

“Speak for yourself,” said Junichiro peevishly.

 

“Junichiro!” whispered Karen harshly.

 

“He covered me in SCORPIONS!”

 

“Not really,” pointed out Karen. “He just made you think you were. Which makes it your fault.”

 

“OH COME ON!” cried Junichiro.

 

Jameson was holding his palm to his forehead as if in great pain. “Umm, Hellcat—I have my first lesson for you.”

 

“Really?” said Karen.

 

Jameson nodded. “When trying to apprehend a deadly superweapon powered by evil magic, do not fight your fellow heroes so that villains can get away with said deadly superweapon.”

 

Karen mused on this. “Doesn’t seem like that will happen too often…”

 

“Oh, once is enough,” muttered Jameson, as he looked at the back of the SHIELD van, where the U-ray was only conspicuous in its absence.

 

**

 

The Doctor is in.

Doctor Strange

More from #TheDefenders

Sup guys? This blog was ‘sposed to drop earlier today while I was still in my coffin recovering from an overnight yet for some reason it never posted. I guess it wasn’t meant to be? Anywho, had something really exciting happen from me yesterday when I had an actual writer from Marvel comment on one of my tweets!

 

Took me completely off guard! I guess this means I might be a bit closer to being acknowledged on a bigger scale? …or maybe he just stumbled across it. Eh, anywho, I’ll be using today’s post to introduce two more characters into the world of Jameson Smith aka Dr Strange. Please read on below and then give me some feedback when you’re finished!

 

*************

 

 

Charles Kerekes, when introduced to attractive women at parties, usually gave his profession as “monetary distribution agent”.

 

This was a fancy way of saying “thief”, which is precisely what he was. However, one generally doesn’t say that to people at parties, especially when one is trying to get into their pants.

 

Of course, Charles had other reasons not to state his real profession—he wasn’t very good at it, for one. For example, just last week, while robbing a bank in Kennesaw, he’d miscalculated the night watchman’s schedule, and had been spotted at the very beginning of the job. He’d been forced to run with what little money he had already gotten, which turned out to be only five thousand dollars. Even worse, the bank had turned out to be yakuza owned, and so soon he was on the run not only from the law, but from a group of very large, menacing men, most of whom had chopped off their own pinky fingers at some point or another, and were thus eager to share the experience.

 

Charles had made the very sane decision to leave Kennesaw for Terra, but had blown most of his haul doing this, and so now was in dire straits. Lacking the resources for a big job, and not wanting to draw to much attention to himself, he was now reduced to petty stick-ups.

 

Such as the young couple he was presently holding at gunpoint. The pair stared at Charles in shock, since they, like many young people, thought of crime as something that happened to other people, usually in other cities, or even landmasses.

 

“Just hand me the money,” Charles explained, in a slow, calm voice. “There’s no need to try anything heroic.”

 

That was when the arrow shot past, inches away from his face, and buried itself in the wall behind him. “There’s ALWAYS a need to try something heroic!” shouted a clear, high female voice. Charles turned.

 

She stood there, silhouetted in the lamplight. She wasn’t very tall, and looked to be quite young. She wore a yellow jumpsuit, with a blue cowl with cat’s ears, her long black hair flowing behind her. A bow was in her hand, arrows held in a quiver tied around her waist.

 

Charles gulped. He was definitely not in any condition to take on a superhero.

 

The girl glanced quickly at the couple. “Just get away! I’ll take care of this crook. There’s no way the likes of him can stand up to the claws of Hellcat—and SON OF SATAN!”

 

As the couple took her up on her advice, the apparent Hellcat looked eagerly to her side. After roughly a minute, she hissed loudly. “Son of Satan! Don’t leave me hanging here…!”

 

A loud groan emanated from the shadows. “Do I have to do this?”

 

Hellcat pouted in a rather sulky fashion. “Yes!”

 

With a long sigh, Son of Satan slouched into view. He was a young man, clad in a rather archaic red kimono that someone had seen fit to scrawl a rather crude pentagram on. He wore no shoes, which was odd—he also had dog-ears, which was odder. Silky white hair hung down to his waist while a samurai sword hung at his side. He regarded Charles with a look that combined resignation with sheer boredom. “I am Son of Satan,” he announced in a dull monotone. “Tremble, before my wrath, evildoer.”

 

Hellcat glanced at him in a reproaching manner. “You could at least put some feeling into it.”

 

Son of Satan rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms. “Look, Karen, I just think this really stupid, is all…”

 

The girl’s eyes went wide. “HEY! We talked about this! It’s Hellcat! I have a secret identity to protect!”

 

“Oh, no!” Son of Satan shouted in mock horror. “Now he knows your one of the million or so girls in Terra called Karen! Whatever shall we do?”

 

“Junichiro…” snarled Karen—then brought her free hand up to her face in shock. “I meant, Son of Satan…”

 

Charles felt a sudden sense of relief.

 

“Oh, wow, you’re really stickin’ with this ‘no names mentioned’ rule of yours,” laughed Junichiro. “Man, why’d I ever agree to this…?” He began to walk away.

 

“Hey! Don’t you walk out on me!” shouted Karen. “I’ll remind you who’s got the upper hand here!”

 

“Right, right…” muttered Junichiro, walking away.

 

“Umm, excuse me…” interjected Charles.

 

“Oh you keep out of this!” Karen stated forcibly. “You’re not worried, Junichiro? Not worried in the slightest that I’ll say, si—”

 

At that moment, Charles fired his pistol in the air. “I’d just like to say,” he began calmly, as he pointed the pistol at them, “That I really seem to have the tactical advantage here. After all, I’m a man with a gun, while you’re a girl with a bow, and a freak with a sword.” He smiled at them. “So please hand over all your money.”

 

“That’s what you think!” shouted Karen. With surprising speed and grace, she fit an arrow to her bow, and released it. The arrow sped quickly over Charles’s shoulder, and buried itself in the wall behind him.

 

Charles’s smile turned into a grin. “Missed.”

 

It was at precisely that moment that the wall behind him exploded, tossing him to the ground, and causing his gun to fall out of his hand and skid away.

 

“Umm, did I do that?” Karen asked quietly in a tone not unlike that of Jaleel White’s.

 

Junichiro gave a slight nod. “Yep.”

 

There was an awkward silence for a moment. Finally, Karen coughed slightly. “Oops.”

 

Junichiro glanced at her oddly. “That sort of thing never used to bother you.”

 

“I never used to worry about getting sued.”

 

Junichiro gave an understanding nod. “Right. Lawyers. You mentioned them once…” He scratched his chin. “Don’t they suck blood, or somethin’?”

 

Karen blinked, then thought it over. “More or less.”

 

While the pair chatted, Charles crept forward to grab his gun.

 

Unfortunately for him, Junichiro noticed him.

 

In the amount of time it takes a man to blink then cough, Charles found himself being hoisted into the air, by a very angry would-be superhero. “You don’t learn, do you, creep?”

 

Charles gulped. He hadn’t noticed it before, but Junichiro had claws. And fangs. And a rather unpleasant glint in his eyes. “PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE DON’T KILL ME—I’LL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT!”

 

Junichiro laughed darkly. “Oh, yeah, like you’re not goin’ to just turn around and try to get us some other way if I let you go…”

 

“Son of Satan!” chirped Karen disapprovingly. “You can’t kill him!”

 

Charles sniffled. Listen to the girl, listen to the girl, god, oh god, listen to the girl…

 

Junichiro gave a snort. “It’ll save us a lot of trouble.”

 

Karen raised a finger, and started to admonish him. “Superheroes can’t kill people. Not unless the villain has killed somebody, and then they have to make it happen by accident.”

 

Junichiro stared at her, puzzled. “How can you do that?”

 

“Well, like, you fight on a mountainside, and they pull out a super weapon to beat your weapon, only they misjudge how powerful it is, and the mountainside collapses, burying them in rubble.” Karen explained helpfully.

 

Junichiro scratched his head. “That seems like a pretty complicated way a handling things…”

 

A blissful smile appeared on Karen’s face. “It’s the way of the superhero, who strongly respects life enough to bludgeon people into unconsciousness, instead of simply killing them.”

 

Junichiro narrowed his eyes. “Right.”

 

Karen glared at him. “Just take care of the bad guy!”

 

Junichiro gave a hasty nod. “Sure thing.” He raised his fist, and drew back his arm in preparation for a terrific uppercut.

 

“Hang him up on the fire escape!” shouted Karen. “The one near the bakery!”

 

Junichiro sighed, then jogged over to fire escape, and leaped up onto it. He glanced at Charles. “You trust this suit?”

 

Charles gulped. “It’s hand-tailored.”

 

Junichiro nodded. “Good.” He hung Charles up on the side of the fire escape, using the jacket as a snag. “Hope you trust your tailor.” He leapt away.

 

Karen gave a triumphant grin as he landed before her. “Well, now we just go to a phone booth, and inform the police, and then—this looks like another job well done by—HELLCAT and SON OF SATAN!”

 

Junichiro gave a slight cough. “You know—this the first time we did this.”

 

Karen visibly deflated. “Umm—right.”

 

The pair walked off together.

 

“And it wasn’t that well done,” added Junichiro.

 

“Shut up, already!” cried Karen.

 

*************

 

 

 

Newest defenders

Hellcat and Son of Satan

 

….please don’t sue me Marvel or Rumiko Takahashi. :). I acknowledge that these characters are not mine and do not own them i’m just making use of them in a work of fiction.

 

Please drop some feedback!

MESCTV

Life Is MESC

msherringsays

The life of a middle school language arts teacher. Not to be taken to seriously. Kapeesh?

H I P L O O T

#thelootedlife

KunoichiJen

When You Give a Ninja a Blog...