December Writing Competition

A great opportunity for writers to showcase their talent.

Moderators: Feral Female, Miles_Warren, Feral Female, Miles_Warren

December Writing Competition

Joined: 24 Feb 2013, 00:05

01 Dec 2014, 19:35 #1

Welcome to the December writing competition :guitar: Please read the rules before entering ... opic=11460

Some important info for this month:

1) Entrants have until December 27th 4pm EST to submit an entry for the competition

2) Voting will then open for entrants before closing on December 29th 4pm EST

3) Voting for non-entrants will then open before closing on December 30th 4pm EST

Best of luck to all entrants


Joined: 03 Oct 2013, 20:56

01 Dec 2014, 23:01 #2

I'll be entering again. I don't know yet if I'll create a new chapter, a stand-alone story or go to one of my non-entered chapters.

Joined: 24 Feb 2013, 00:05

01 Dec 2014, 23:09 #3

Bring your A-Game. Yo could be the first person to achieve "Experienced Creator" rank. Of curse, so could Feral, xMatt and darktruth :lol3:

I will try my best to enter this month. I have an idea for a story. As usual, I probably won't find the time to write a story. lol

Joined: 03 Oct 2013, 08:56

02 Dec 2014, 21:21 #4

I'll be entering the contest again. Looking to achieving another victory and garner a higher ranking. And also check out what everyone else will be submitting this month.


Joined: 27 Nov 2007, 17:07

03 Dec 2014, 11:05 #5

*Throws bonnet into ring*

I'm in. Now to find the time to write the issue. ;)

Joined: 21 Dec 2013, 01:44

04 Dec 2014, 21:26 #6

And I was battling with snakes today... but you will have the possibility of reading it first in two months time :grin:

I have to finish it and then to translate it and then to correct it

You know, I thought so many times of giving it up.
But maybe I should have changed my brain first, the stories appear just out of nothing right there, and I have to write them down...

as for now, I will choose one of my older stories for Dec. competition

Superpowered Human
Superpowered Human
Joined: 23 Aug 2008, 06:32

06 Dec 2014, 04:02 #7

I'll be in with the next issue of The Rift

Joined: 26 Nov 2007, 16:50

08 Dec 2014, 13:57 #8

*throws hat into ring*

i'll be putting a story in this month, not sure if i wanna throw in something from my ongoing series or a new story. *twiddles thumbs*

Joined: 03 Oct 2013, 08:56

11 Dec 2014, 12:27 #9

The Balance of Power


Chapter Seven


Emotions and Revelations


On another World, within another Universe

The Nexus of the Spiritual and Physical World

In a blinding flash of energy, a gateway opens and Hiro-Kala steps forth, exiting the portal created by the amulet and his Old Power energies. His glowing eyes scanned the surroundings, taking in the gigantic, extraordinary temple that he found himself within. All of the worlds elements and energies, everything that is physical and spiritual, formed this place and merged. The very fortress itself was composed of these elements and energies, from the ancient markings to the towering pillars and vast walls.

But none of that mattered to Hiro-Kala. For he was here for a reason, an intricate purpose. A destiny that would be fulfilled once he would obtain the Heart. Everything that he's lost, all that he's suffered and endured, would be extinguished from his mind, body and soul. In the end, this world and its people would yield and kneel before him.

A sinister smile crossed his features as his eyes noticed a brilliant, glowing, oval-shaped object situated atop a short stone column in the distance. Slowly, almost menacingly, Hiro-Kala advances towards the radiant Heart of this world until only a space of four feet is left between him and the relic. He stares at the Heart for a few seconds, almost sensing its powerful energies as it glowed with a brilliant azure-white radiance. Cautiously, perhaps somewhat hesitantly, Hiro-Kala extends his arms and opens his hands as he proceeds to claim the Heart. But something, or rather someone, causes him to stop dead in his tracks.

"Do not do this, Hiro-Kala. It will not end well for you.", A gentle, feminine voice spoke, causing Hiro-Kala to cease his advance to claim the Heart and turn to face the being who garnered his attention.

Indeed it was revealed to be a woman, one of extraordinary beauty, dressed in royal Fire Nation clothing. It was none other than the spiritual form of Ursa, mother of Firelord Zuko and Princess Azula. She had come to speak with Hiro-Kala, to reason with him in hopes that she'd be able to persuade him to end his quest for power and vengeance. She knew what would happen if he would undertake this path, she knew of the consequences, of the fate that would befall him if she could not make him see.

"What do you hope to achieve by speaking to me directly? Seeking to reason with me is a futile gesture.", Hiro-Kala responds, narrowing his eyes at the beautiful spirit of the former Empress of the Fire Nation.

"I act as a mother who cares for her child. And while you may not be my son, nor I your mother, I pray that you will listen to me as if I were. And I hope that by listening to me, it will save you from your fate.", Ursa stated, her face a mask of kindness and concern.

"My fate is none of your concern.", Hiro-Kala hissed, glaring at the mother of Firelord Zuko and Azula.

Taking a few steps forward, Ursa slowly reaches her up to gently cup the scarred, right side of Hiro-Kala's face with her hand. There was no trace of fear or disgust on her lovely features, only kindness and compassion as she gazed at the tortured Oldstrong. She could sense his rage, his self-loathing, his desire for redemption and conquest. If only she could convince him to see, to show him that there was another way that would save his life and prevent further pain and anguish.

"I knew of a young man, whose face was scarred like your own, who sought to reclaim his honor and find his purpose in this world. It was only in time, through the experiences and challenges that he faced, did he find his purpose, his destiny, in this world. You must also take all of your experiences and challenges into perspective, for only then will you realize your true destiny and purpose... before it is too late.", Ursa spoke in a gentle voice, telling the abbreviated tale of her beloved son's quest of finding himself and discovering his true destiny.

For a moment it appeared that Hiro-Kala considered her words, his mind delving into his memories to seek out these truths that were supposedly hidden. But all he could find was a life of pain, sorrow, misery, rage, and utter loss. The death of his mother and the destruction of his world, the murder of his beloved Lihla by his own hand and his imprisonment within the planet K'ai by his brother Skaar. All of these memories, so painful and filled with anger, so much that he could barely contain it. He tightly closed his eyes and proceeded to swat away Ursa's hand from his face, his expression taking on a twisted mixture of hatred and anguish, rage and pain.

"Leave me.", Hiro-Kala whispered, turning away from Ursa's spirit.

"Please, Hiro-Kala, listen to me.", Ursa pleaded only to look on as the Oldstrong continued marching back towards the stone column in which the Heart resided upon.

"Silence!", Hiro-Kala hissed, not even sparing a glance at the spiritual embodiment of the woman.

"It will not bring back your world, your mother, nor the love that you slain with your own hand.", Ursa proclaimed, tears of spiritual essence slowly trekking down her face.

"Leave me alone!", Hiro-Kala commanded, the volume of his voice rising.

"Don't you see? You act out of anger and pain, sorrow and loss. Let it go, Hiro-Kala... let it go before it consumes you!", Ursa cried, urging him to turn away from this dark destiny.

"You know nothing of my mother & father! You know nothing of my brother! And you know nothing... about me. Not of the pain I endured, not of all that I have lost, and not of the sorrow that fills my being every single waking moment of my existence. YOU. KNOW. NOTHING!!!!", Hiro-Kala snarled, bellowing at the top of his lungs as his eyes began to glow and radiate with the Old Power.

The spiritual embodiment of Ursa could only look on in pity, a lone tear of spiritual essence streaming down her cheek. She had tried to make him see in hope that she could save him. But despite her best efforts, she had failed. There was nothing else she could do, nothing she could do to save him from a dark fate. And with this in mind, she spoke to Hiro-Kala one last time.

"I want you to know this, Hiro-Kala, to know that no matter what path you decide to undertake, no matter what horrors you intend to control and unleash upon this world, know that I forgive you. And I hope you will find the peace that you desire... and that the path which you choose will not lead to your death.", Ursa spoke in a voice that was gentle, sincere, and full of pity.

A second later the spirit of Ursa disappears right before the eyes of Hiro-Kala, vanishing in a star-like burst of light. Turning back to the stone column that the Heart was stationed atop of, Hiro-Kala reached out for it with both hands... only for a force-field of energy to surround it. A defense mechanism, a very clever one designed to protect the Heart against those who would wish to steal it. However, there is more than a mere force-field protecting the Heart.

Guardians made of earth, fire, air, and water materialized around Hiro-Kala, their very forms brought to life by the energies of the Heart. Dark golden, silver, and black armor adorned their towering forms, each standing an imposing twenty-five feet tall. These guardians protected the Heart from all intruders who were not the Avatar or those who would seek to use the Heart for evil and conquest. They were summoned to battle Hiro-Kala, to send the sinister Oldstrong into retreat. But could their formidable might compare to that of a being who wielded the Old Power?

"Guardians of the Heart? How intriguing.", Hiro-Kala mused, settling into a fighting stance.

"Don't disappoint me!", Hiro-Kala sneered, an evil smile adorning his features.

With the Old Power surging forth from his body, Hiro-Kala leaps at the towering guardians, a roar of rage and war echoing forth from his throat. He would never surrender, for he had come too far and endured too much to be denied of his conquest of this planet now. May he who dies... die well.


Gamma World, New Mexico

Base of the Hulks

Banner's Lab

Patience wasn't one of Korra's strongest attributes. And she knew it. Still, despite this, it didn't stop her from marching into the lab of Dr. Bruce Banner unannounced. Nearly three weeks have passed since her arrival to this world, and since then she's been confined to the base and the surrounding landscape made up of several thousand acres of desert. There wasn't a second that passed by that she didn't think about her world, her family and her friends. She wanted to go home, she wanted to save everything she loved, and she really wanted to take Hiro-Kala down for good!

"Is it done yet?", Korra asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

"No, it isn't.", Banner answered calmly, keeping his focus on working on the mechanisms of the device.

"Ugh! It's been over two weeks! And you're still not done?!", Korra exclaimed in exasperation.

"If you think you can do it faster, better and more accurate, then be my guest.", Banner replied evenly, walking away from the large metallic device and towards one of the stands to retrieve a few pieces of equipment.

"At least I wouldn't take as long.", Korra muttered under her breath, unaware that Dr. Banner had heard her remark.

Releasing a heavy sigh, Banner walks back over to the mechanism, setting down the pieces of equipment that he retrieved before focusing his attention on the teenage, headstrong, multi-elemental empowered young woman standing on the opposite side of the room. He wasn't used to dealing with teenagers, especially not of the female variety. His own experience with his daughter Lyra, who didn't want anything to do with him, was very limited. Still, being the mild-mannered and reasonable man that he is, Bruce figured that he would be able to rationally speak to Korra.

"Look, this isn't as easy as you think it is. It's not like taking a class in quantum physics. This device I'm working on, the one that'll help you return home, is designed to tear open portals into other dimensions and universes. There is much that has to be done. Not only do I have to make sure it'll work accordingly, but I must also pinpoint the Old Power portal which you came through and manage to synchronize our universe's time with that of your own. Everything has to be precise and extremely accurate, with little to no margin for error.", Banner explains, hoping that this explanation would please the young Avatar as he went back to working on the tech-based device.

"Fine. Whatever. Just get it done and over with.", Korra said in a huff, leaning back against the wall.

"It will be done. You have to be patient.", Banner assures, adjusting a few pieces within the mechanism.

"I have been patient. But while you've been taking your time tinkering, Hiro-Kala has been walking around on my world unchallenged. My family, my friends, my world are in danger!", Korra shouted, her tone of voice rising with each sentence.

"You think I don't know that, Korra?! Do you think I, of all people, don't realize what's at stake here?! Your people, your world, are all threatened. But you have to understand that I deal with these kind of problems and worse on a daily basis. So unless you can contribute anything worthwhile in assisting me, I suggest that you walk out of this room and leave me alone to work in peace.", Banner yells, his last sentence coming out like a low, savage snarl that one would expect more from the Hulk than that of the mild-manner nuclear physicist.

Dr. Banner's angry outburst not only surprised himself, but it also seemed to have caught Korra off guard as well, her expression revealing how taken aback she was of his verbal backlash. Tension could be felt within the room as silence reigned for several long moments, neither Dr. Banner or Korra speaking so much as a word to each other. Piqued and frustrated with the entire situation, not to mention slightly perturbed after being yelled at, Korra turns and storms out of the lab, leaving Bruce Banner alone with his thoughts and his work.

"Excellent way to handle a situation, Bruce. What's next? Are you going to start smashing stuff without thinking things through?", Banner chastised himself, pinching the bridge of his nose.

It was then at that precise moment that Bruce Banner received a response to his own condescension, one that he didn't expect... even though he should have. He was always there. Watching, feeling, and listening to everything that Banner said or did. He was bound to make his presence, his thoughts, known to Bruce Banner. It was incredible that he didn't make his thoughts known sooner.

"It's better than just sitting around doing nothing.", Hulk's voice rumbled in response.

"I see that you were listening... as always.", Banner remarks nonchalantly, staring at the psychic projection of his raging alter-ego that only his eyes could see and acknowledge in the nearby mirror.

"And I see you've finally grown enough of a backbone to tell her off.", Hulk retorts, his tone retaining a serious edge.

"She's just concerned and frustrated. Everything she holds dear is at stake. You and I could relate to her and the situation that she's in.", Banner stated, taking a seat.

"Don't care. We take her home, save her world, and leave it at that.", Hulk replied evenly, narrowing his eyes at the very being whom he reluctantly accepted as a part of himself.

"It isn't that simple, Hulk. I know that we're both aware of how close she is to Skaar.", Banner clarifies, adjusting his glasses as he did.

"She'll end up hurting him, Banner.", Hulk growled, his teeth bared in a savage snarl while his massive hands clenched into fists.

"Maybe she will, maybe she won't. But don't think that I don't know what you're really concerned about, Hulk. And it isn't that she'll hurt him. In fact, it's not about Korra hurting Skaar at all, is it?", Banner countered.

"Believe what you want, Banner. It doesn't change anything.", Hulk said in a low tone of voice, like thunder from a distant storm.

"No, it doesn't. And it certainly doesn't make it any easier for either of us to accept.", Banner said, his voice just loud enough for his alter-ego to hear him.

And with that last response, Banner resumed working on the device as the psychic personification of the Hulk disappeared, continuing to watch on within his/their psyche. It wasn't easy being one of the smartest men on the planet, nor was it easy being a father. He only hoped that in this particular situation, the one involving the bond forming between his son and Korra, would not end in tragedy.


Outside the Base

Several Miles Away

Angry and frustrated, Korra decided to take out her emotional tension on the vast, surrounding desert landscape with her bending. Massive chunks of earth were ripped from the dry soil and either sent flying off in the distance, smashed against one another, or used to shred the landscape with shards of stone. Bursts of fire torched the ground, melting sand and scorching the already baked earth. Lightning streaked across the skies, striking land and earth with incredible ferocity. Gusts of air created miniature cyclones and hurricane force winds, ravaging the landscape made of sand and stone.

However, Korra's aggressive activity did not go unnoticed, as it had garnered the attention of Skaar. He felt genuinely concerned for his friend. If she needed him, which he felt she did at this particular point in time, Skaar would do everything in his power to help her. He approached her without fear or hesitation, baring witness as she lashed out with such ferocity and fury that it'd make even his father smile with pride.

"Korra.", Skaar spoke in a soft tone of voice, announcing his presence to his friend.

"Go away, Skaar. I'm not in the mood to be around anyone. Not even you.", Korra responds, ceasing her attack yet not bothering to turn and face her friend as she kept her narrowed, focused gaze on the horizon.

"I know what you're feeling. I was like you once. I was filled with rage and sorrow. I hated everything. I blamed my father for everything that happened to me, to my world, and to my mother. I wanted to kill him. But when I learned the truth... I changed. I learned that I alone control my destiny, that the choice to save or destroy is my own to decide. In the end, I made peace with my father and found a new world to live on and call home.", Skaar stated calmly, reaching out to rest his hand on Korra's shoulder.

It was then that Korra turned to face him, her face a mask of pure frustration, anger, and sheer outrage. She was right in his face in a second, unrelenting as her arctic-blue irises glared intensely into the green eyes of the Son of Hulk. But he did not back down, nor did he flinch as her words bellowed forth with an intensity that could match the blows she unleashed upon the landscape.

"Is that little story supposed to make me feel better?! Well, it didn't! You don't understand anything I'm going through!", Korra shouted, her hands clenching tightly into fists.

"Yes, I do. You're angry and frustrated. You feel weak and helpless. You think you've lost your world, you think you've lost everything and everyone that you ever cared about. But you haven't. Not yet.", Skaar replied, his tone remaining calm and determined as he once again tried to reason with the female Avatar in an attempt to sooth her raging spirit.

"Just leave me alone, Skaar.", Korra grumbled, turning away from him as she stood in silence.

"Korra... listen to me.", Skaar said, trying to reach out and assure her that he was capable of understanding what she was feeling and going through.

"Get away!", Korra screamed, causing her to unexpectedly enter the Avatar State as her eyes illuminated an eerie white glow.

When the elemental energies began to swirl around Korra's body, the sheer force of entering the Avatar State sends Skaar soaring through the air. He violently crashes against the jagged, dry earth, his back cut open by the sharp rocks. The pain and adrenaline was too much, he couldn't stop the transformation, he was going to change. Gray-white flesh turns green as it morphs and grows painfully in a matter of seconds, transforming Skaar's teenage form into a seven-foot-nine, one-thousand-five-hundred pound hulking being of muscle and bone.

Standing up to his full height, Skaar's long raven hair was whipped around by the hurricane-like winds that Korra created. Focusing his attention on her, Skaar knew what had to be done. He wouldn't let her be consumed by rage and despair, he wouldn't let it turn her into something that she's not. He must show her that all was not lost, that there's still hope.

Advancing until he was directly in front of Korra's hovering form, unfazed by the vortex of elements that lashed out against him, Skaar reaches out with his massive right hand and gently grasps Korra's forearm. This physical contact causes Korra's glowing eyes to avert downward and widen with recognition as she looked upon Skaar in his Hulk form for the very first time. Slowly, he manages to pull her down until her feet settled on the scorched desert soil. Leaning his head down until his forehead rested against Korra's own, Skaar made sure never to break eye contact with her.

"You wanted to see me. All of me. And so I have revealed myself to you. But it's time for me to complete my promise, to show you where and how I became to be. With the Old Power, I reveal to you, Korra, my past, the last days of planet Sakaar, and my journey to this world.", Skaar said as he began summoning the Old Power, his dark green eyes becoming lightning azure-blue in color.

The Old Power energy that coursed through the planet and within Skaar began to fuse with the earth, fire, air, and water elements that Korra's Avatar State had summoned forth. Suddenly, without warning, Korra's head jerked back as she unleashed a horrific scream, her glowing white eyes widening as she felt the Old Power surge into her mind, body and spirit. In that instant, she witnessed all of his memories, each one flashing through her mind as if they were happening right before her very eyes at this very moment. It was as if she were a spirit, a ghost who could only watch on helplessly as these events occurred.

A hellish world of fire and death, a planet known as Sakaar. From a lake of molten lava rises a child, his screams of primal fury and pain echoing across the vast, fiery wilderness. It was a nightmare, one that her mind couldn't even begin to comprehend. A world overrun by monstrous beasts, savage barbarians, and insane shadow priests. She couldn't imagine what it must have been like to go through this hell, to fight every single waking moment for survival, to endure such trials and face such terrifying nightmares. She bared witness to it all through the Old Power.

Then came the silver herald of Galactus, the Devourer of Worlds, who sought to offer this nightmarish world to his master. Even against such omnipotent might, Skaar would not back down. He was determined to save his world, to protect his people, to preserve the spirit of his mother: Caiera the Oldstrong. But it was her very spirit who cast Skaar off the planet and through a portal before offering her soul and that of the planet to the World Devourer. The spirit of Caiera sacrificed herself and her world, allowing the people of Sakaar to get to safety as the mighty Galactus proceeded to consume the vast energies that this world had to offer.

In mere moments, Skaar had lost his beloved mother again and his entire world. Tears of sorrow began to leak from Korra's glowing eyes, trekking slowly down her cheeks even as the memories continued rushing through her mind. Full of rage and grief, Skaar was determined to exact revenge on the one being whom he hated the most. The one who abandoned him in the fires of Sakaar, the one being whom he blamed for the loss of his mother and the destruction of his world: The Hulk.

Their confrontation was inevitable. Skaar helped Bruce Banner, his father's human form, to save the world and its heroes from a terrible threat. In exchange, Skaar would finally get what he desired so very much. He would finally challenge the Green Scar... the Green King... the World-Breaker.

The battle was fierce, the very planet quaking from the sheer ferocity and magnitude of their blows. It would seem that the world would be destroyed, completely and utterly shattered asunder. But something happened, something that made Skaar and the Hulk cease their titanic clash. In the end, father and son embraced one another in forgiveness and acceptance.

It was then that Korra realized that what Skaar had told her was true. He lost his world and his mother, but he had found a new world and his father. He regained what he had lost. He found a new world to call home and a family that was, in many ways, very much like him. By overcoming his trials and tribulations on Sakaar and on Earth, Skaar discovered that his fate, his destiny, was in his own hands and that it was his alone to determine and control.

Seconds later, the memories ceased. It was only then that Korra reverted out of the Avatar State, her glowing white eyes turning back to their original shade of sapphire blue. If it were not for Skaar grasping her shoulders and keeping her form stable, she would have fallen to the desert earth, her body and mind exhausted, a low groan escaping her throat. Then, she heard Skaar's voice, only this time it was different... slightly deeper and more mature than the voice of the teen she had come to know and befriend.

"You don't have to do this alone, Korra. And you don't have to be alone. Not if you don't want to be. Let us help you... let me help you.", Skaar said in a voice just short of a whisper.

She lifted her gaze to stare up at Skaar, locking eyes with him. It wasn't long until her resolve faltered and tears began to well up in her eyes. The tears she sheds proceed to slowly streak down her face in watery trails. Skaar was a bit taken aback when Korra unexpectedly lunged forward to embrace him, her arms reaching up to encircle his thick neck as she nuzzled her face against his cheek before resting it in the crook of his neck. He could feel her sobs, her chest heaving and quaking in her cries as her body trembled ever so slightly. He could not summon any words of comfort. All he could do was hold her, even as he began to transform back into his Human-Oldstrong form.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry.", Korra sobbed in a hushed tone of voice.

She wouldn't release him from her embrace, her arms holding on to him as if out of fear that she'd lose him and everything else that she cared for in an instant. But in truth, he couldn't let her go... not even if he wanted. She needed him now as much as he needed her. She is his friend, and he would never leave her.

For the longest time, what felt like an eternity, Skaar and Korra held each other in their arms. He gently caressed her hair and back with his hands in order to soothe her, seemingly unaware of the few tears that managed to leak from his eyes and fall down to the dry, barren soil beneath them. He would always be there for her.

One thing was certain. They were not alone. And as long as they would have one another, they never would be.


Banner's Lab

Four Days Later

Entering the lab unannounced, the Jade Giantess known as Jennifer Walters walked in to discover that her cousin was still hard at work on the device. She couldn't help but smile as she looked on, remaining quiet as her cousin continued tinkering. If there was one thing she knew and could take solace in, it was that once Bruce was determined to solve something, he wouldn't stop until he succeeded.

"How's it going with the gizmo, Bruce? Making any progress?", Jen inquired, surprising her cousin with a quick hug from behind before walking over to lean against the neighboring wall.

"Yes, I am. But the components that I need would take me some time to build. Time that we don't have. Luckily, I've contacted Reed Richards. He has the components that I need to finish it.", Bruce responds, continuing to stand and focus his attention on the machine.

"That means traveling to Manhattan.", Jen stated.

"Yes, I'm aware of that. And your point would be?", Bruce replied with an inquiry.

"Nothing. But it would be a great chance to take Korra and Skaar with you. Spend some time together, view the sights, let her see the world before she returns home.", Jen suggested with a smile.

"Hmph.", Bruce snorts, brushing her suggestion aside without a second thought.

It wasn't difficult for Jen to sense that something was wrong with Bruce, his reaction to her suggestion involving Korra only providing her further proof in the case. And being the strong, independent, female attorney that she is, Jen wasn't going to stop until she determined what it was that's actually causing her cousin to act in the manner that he's been displaying since Korra's arrival to the base. She had a pretty good idea of what it truly was that was offsetting Bruce, but she wanted to be certain.

"Okay, what's with you?", Jen demanded, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared at her cousin.

"I don't know what you're implying, Jen, because there is nothing wrong.", Bruce said, not even bothering to meet her stern gaze.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. I noticed that these last few weeks you've been intentionally avoiding Korra. I mean, it's almost like you want nothing to do with her, yet you're going out of your way to help her get back to her world. So, tell me, Bruce, what's going on?", Jen asked, her tone of voice deadly serious yet strangely calm.

Releasing a heavy sigh, Bruce reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose before removing his glasses and setting them down on the table. He should have known that he couldn't hide anything from Jen. She always had a sixth sense about these things, especially whenever he was involved. It certainly didn't pay for him to deny it any more, let alone try not to acknowledge it.

"She just makes me so angry, Jen.", Bruce said, almost growling out the answer.

"You, or the Hulk?", Jen inquired with a small smirk, arching her eyebrow ever so slightly.

"Both of us.", Bruce confirmed in answer.

"Why? What is it about her that makes you and Hulk so angry?", Jen questioned further, unrelenting in her pursuit for the truth.

"Why do you ask questions to which you most likely already know the answers to?", Bruce retorts in a deadpanned tone.

"Maybe it's because I want to hear it directly from the source. But I have a feeling that the reason you're so against Korra is because it concerns your son. Am I right?", Jen counters, her voice insightful as one would expect from an attorney.

She did not get a response, not that she was really expecting one. She knew Bruce too well, and she could tell that this topic of conversation wasn't one he was eager to talk about with anyone. Nonetheless, Jen remained persistent in her effort, trying to get her cousin to see the positives that this unique bond that had been formed by Korra and Skaar presented for the two teens.

"Bruce, you should be happy for him. Skaar finally has a friend. A lady friend, I might add. He deserves to have someone other than his family to comfort and connect with him. I think it'll be good for him. Both of them.", She-Hulk said within reason, hoping that she could somehow get her cousin to understand.

"I know, Jen. It's just that... I'm not sure that it will end well for Skaar. I've never seen him take such an interest in anyone before. He cares about Korra. He cares about her a lot. He's already been through so much in his life. And I... I just don't want to see him get hurt.", Bruce reluctantly responds, tightly closing his eyes and clenching his hands into fists.

"And what about Hulk? What is it that he's hiding? What is it that he's afraid of?", Jen probed, wanting to know what both sides were trying to conceal.

"He doesn't want to lose his son. Skaar is all that he has left of Caiera. All that there is to represent Hulk's memory of her and the love they shared.", Bruce confessed, seemingly unaware of the single tear that escaped the corner of his eye and slowly began to tread down his face.

For what seemed like an eternity Bruce merely stood there, his mind lost in the memories of the past. It was only when he felt a pair of comforting hands reach out and gently rest on his shoulders did he respond. He opened his eyes to look upon his cousin Jen, her expression one of compassion, understanding and patience. He knew that she was going to be direct with him, that she wouldn't hold back the truth from him regarding the matter of his son. He was only surprised that it took this long for her to confront him about this.

"You can't protect him forever, Bruce. And neither can the Hulk. Sooner or later, you're both going to have to let him choose his own fate and make his own decisions in life.", Jen stated, knowing that he needed to hear the truth.

It was then that the door to the lab suddenly opened again, this time revealing the very two individuals who were the subject of Bruce & Jen's discussion, Korra and Skaar. The two were dressed in summer clothing attire, with Korra wearing a blue tank-top and a matching pair of shorts, while Skaar adorned a white tank-top and a pair of black shorts. They seemed to be their usual selves, playfully shoving, wrestling and laughing among themselves. It was quite apparent that their bond was becoming stronger with each passing day, their friendship getting to the point that the two were nearly nigh-inseparable. It certainly didn't go unnoticed by either Bruce or Jen, who watched on as the teens came to a stop in front of them.

"Hiya, Jen!", Korra greeted with an almost impish smile.

"Hey, Korra. You seem to be in a good mood. Any reason why?", Jen asks, sensing that something was going on between the two teenagers.

"Not much. Me and Skaar were just having some fun. That's all.", Korra replied with a devious wink towards her partner in crime, further proving that the two close friends were up to mischief as usual.

"Heh.", Skaar chuckled with an almost evil smirk.

"Korra.", Bruce greeted in a stern tone of voice, causing the young woman to turn her attention towards him.

"Heh... What's up, Dr. Banner? By the way, if this is about the bookshelf and the pitcher of water, I just want to state that... it was all Rick's idea!", Korra proclaimed, unintentionally ratting out one of her friends.

"It's not that.", Bruce responds, somewhat amused that she'd just revealed that Rick was one of the leading culprits in one of the pranks that occurred a couple of days ago that resulted in Bruce getting soaked to the bone.

"Oh! Well, then, what is it?", Korra asked, regaining her composure.

"How would you and Skaar like to take a little trip to Manhattan?", Bruce offered in inquiry.

The excitement in Korra's sparkling sapphire-hued eyes and bright smile spoke volumes. She was finally going to get out of the base, she was finally going to venture out and see the world! She was going to Manhattan! She was more than ready to explore the world. But would the world, or more precisely Manhattan, be ready for the fiery-tempered, headstrong, feminine Avatar?


Joined: 27 Nov 2007, 17:07

12 Dec 2014, 11:33 #10

Great entry, GreenScar!

Joined: 03 Oct 2013, 08:56

17 Dec 2014, 13:17 #11

Feral Female @ Dec 12 2014, 05:33 AM wrote: Great entry, GreenScar!
Thank you, Feral! :)

I look forward to reading your entry. :friends:


Joined: 21 Dec 2013, 01:44

17 Dec 2014, 22:24 #12

GreenScar, you can't stand alone for the comp. this month :smileydrunk:
here is my entry:


ROSIE – Just a wearisome beginning, it isn’t always so easy…


Marzanna and Achim Rozek had four children, oh no, not four, but five, as they had just newly found out, that Marzanna was with child again. The oldest was Rosie, she was eighteen, had long, slender legs and equally long, straight hair, that she tied into a pony-tail while going to college, but once at home she preferred to have it plaited instead, on which her smaller brothers loved to swing. The Rozeks were blessed with three boys, year by year; the oldest of them was seven.

Rosie was a serious girl with a steady and calming voice and a brave and keen gaze; that’s why she intimidated her colleagues from the village. But generally it was not a big problem for them as Rosie spent most of her free time at home with her brothers, playing and teaching them. Karol was already going to school so during the week Rosie had first to give him a lift and then she hurried onto her college. When April came Rosie prepared herself for her examinations; she studied in the kitchen, as her mum being in the last month of her pregnancy usually occupied Rosie’s bedroom.


One beautiful afternoon in April whilst in the kitchen Rosie was surprised by her father, who very rarely spent afternoons at home. Even at weekends he stayed in his repair shop, often looking after his sons this way, I mean, teaching them mechanics – Hi Rosie – he said entering the kitchen – Prepare tea for us, in the thermos bottle, please, we’ll be off to my workshop in a while –

– Dad… - Rosie answered him bitterly – Could you help me here in the kitchen, please? Just once. I am getting far behind with my studies… -

Rosie looked straight into his face, but he turned his eyes away – What is to be done here? – he asked – Karol could stay with you to help… -

- Dad! It’s the middle of the week, Karol should be doing his homework, and Xavier and Tony have some drawings on the table in the salon waiting to be finished –

Her father turned to her at the door – Rozi, your are really great and wise – he told her coming nearer – And beautiful… Wow, I missed watching you grow up – he exclaimed touching her chin – Oh yes… your husband will be really satisfied with you… he will… -

Rosie suddenly stiffened not believing what she just has heard – Dad! – she cut him off – Go back to your workshop and allow me to continue my studies -


Rosie passed her examinations successfully, she could choose whichever university she wanted to providing it was located in Wroclaw: her mum required help with raising the boys. So in the end she decided to go to the Medical Academy and travel there daily in the old car that her father had bought for her. And she had a lot to learn and many things to do. Fortunately her dad tried to be home more often in the afternoons, and in the evenings he even took the time to drop in to the kitchen for a while. But even though he did his best, Rosie still felt uneasy in his presence, what with time turned to disgust, and further worsened. So when she saw an advertisement for internships in England, South America or Africa, she immediately prepared an application without consulting her parents. She was assigned to Somalia. Her farewell to the family was like a funeral: all declared her lost forever there, or dead. Aunt Wanda almost beat her, not to mention her aggressive comments. Dad declared, he did not intend to pay her for her journey. Her mum was broken and cried her eyes out.


- Well then, Somalia – Rosie thought looking down at the airport in Mogadishu.

She worked at the local hospital, but soon she realized, that there had to be another medical centre not far away, as sometimes patients with strange scars and clearly enlarged pupils came to her - from afar they seemed to have huge black eyes; someone knew his profession very well and must have had a hidden purpose. But Rosie didn’t manage to find out more, because one night something rumbled underneath, and part of her hospital dropped by several floors underground. To Rosie’s surprise she was not asked for help to evacuate the patients: she had to pack all the medical equipment instead, in a hurry, and equally in a hurry she was taken together with the rest of the hospital’s crew by plane to the States.


She was interviewed many times afterwards, each detail was again and again discussed, finally she was released with some advice to go back home. Rosie however didn’t want that, well, almost a year had passed since she left home, but half of it she had spent in Texas in a supervised centre. One of the agents, who interviewed her, helped her to find new work at the hospital in New York, but she lost this job three months later.

But Rosie didn’t give up, she asked on her own at other medical centers, and one day found an offer in the suburbs. Patients there were rather poor with small insurances; Rosie quickly learned to choose cheaper medicines, and some interventions she had to do on her own. Generally it was a happy time for her, she had friends at work, who met afterwards so often as if they all were one big family.


One day, after a twelve hours shift in the side passage she saw a cart full with gynecological waste; but the medical intern, who took it every day to the incinerator was nowhere to be seen. She came nearer, looked to one crossing passage, then to another one… no one was there, so she decided to inform the receptionist. Passing by the cart she saw, that one of the bags moved. She looked into it: in an opened, plastic bag lay a child, who somehow survived the abortion, it trembled trying to catch its breath, but Rosie knew, that there was no chance for this child: its lungs hadn’t develop properly yet… Rosie was not able to move, she stood with heavy legs, rooted to the spot, and the child looked with its blind eyes in her direction… it was passing away. The peace on its face hypnotized her, thousand of thoughts, her whole life and all her feelings condensed on this very moment. And then Rosie yelled, her despair mixed up with fear and pain thundered through all the passages, and in the end filled her mind. The child was dead. Rosie turned back and left the hospital as fast as she could. She was running until she was out of breath; but she didn’t stop until she reached a small bridge. Her mind was totally empty, she cared for nothing, she wouldn’t even protest, if someone tried to kill her at that moment; anyway, no one would really miss her, well, maybe her mum only… - My mum… - she thought sitting down on a railing, with her face towards the flowing river; she leaned her head against one of the bridge’s upper supports and looked blankly at the water that turned right far in the distance.


I don’t know, how long she was there; she had simply lost count of time…

- Well, well I see that I’ve just lost my exclusive rights for this place –

She heard someone speaking next to her, she turned her head to look at the man: a homeless one, who despite of still nice weather was wearing so many clothes as if he were already preparing himself for the winter time. And he was looking straight at her.

– I…I meant this railing. You sit exactly where you can hear the music of this river –

– I am sorry – Rosie said to the man and, not knowing what to do, she jumped off the railing back onto the walkway.

– No problem - he answered - This music actually can be heard quite well on the whole bridge, but you know, I said this because I was afraid you would… ugh… jump down into the water –

She smiled at him – I am not so desperate –

– But your eyes look that way, they are so swollen as if you cried out half of the river, in such a state you had better not sit on the railing. Good music can be heard also in other places in the city –

– Really? – Rosie became curious.

– If you bought me a chocolate ice-cream, I would show you a special place, where the winds sing. This is actually on my way to the dormitory –

Rosie again smiled nodding to the man.


Not much later they walked together eating ice-creams, in silence. Rosie probably wouldn’t say anything, but she stumbled and the homeless man helped her to regain the balance – Thank you – she whispered.

- No problem – he answered – We all stumble sometimes in our life, but there is also someone near us, who could extend his arm to give us support –

Again they went further in silence, probably towards the local park, so they still must have had a long, straight way to walk, luckily the Sun was setting later on, as it was only just early autumn.

– I’ve experienced it many times already, but today, I think, the star will fall down especially for you, not for me… just see, it thundered, the storm is coming, although there are no clouds visible yet, maybe your shooting star is just now focusing on you … -

Rosie didn’t smile this time – I don’t need stars – she answered shaking her head dissatisfied – I just don’t know, what to do with myself… some longing for a life better than my mum’s lured me out of my home, but whatever I did, it ended tragically, as if I had it written on my forehead: a pity woman. I am a doctor, I always wanted to help people: in Somalia my hospital collapsed, but instead of saving our patients I had to pack up our tools and medicaments, and then I spent half a year in a military base, what for I don’t know till today, and now, here in New York… - Rosie broke off, she was not able to talk about what’s happened today, not even to him.

– Not always a new place means a new life, we pull our own past with us, whenever we want it or not. See, my own trolley is quite heavy - he answered her.

Rosie burst out laughing, the trolley looked in fact overloaded, but she didn’t want to know, what was inside.

– You’re so nice and… so tidy – the homeless man said - But you appear to me very lonely. For me there are many places where I am wanted… needed… And I feel well there, this city is truly mine. And you, big girl, you should look for someone like you too –

– There’s no strength left in me for a new friendship – she answered him with resignation in her voice – I need to keep distance to this world, solitude would be good for me now –

– Eh! Don’t you think it would be selfish: to be able to cure people and not to help them? This is like being gifted a huge birthday cake and not sharing it with others –

- I won’t be the doctor, anymore, I am very sure about it – she answered him abruptly.

But at this moment they both jumped hearing the sirens of fire engines, not far away – So why don’t you ask at the fire-station for a job – the homeless man said to her – You’re tall, well built, I mean strong, not tiny… -

- Me to be a… firefighter? – she asked surprised.

– Why not? – he answered.

They got to the crossing, nearby sat a man playing guitar – I would like to go home now – Rosie declared. So they said farewell to each other – Thank you – she whispered again looking at the man who was going away with his trolley…


This new work was great. Rosie felt relieved of her previous worries: in the city like New York the firefighters had always a lot to do. So she helped with passion whomever she could, she calmed down all the scared children, she even cried together with those suffering. And she stopped to be afraid. Her inclination for taking risk, her bravado, with which she dashed into fire places, let others respect her, but at the same time they were really terrified: each time she rushed into action, they followed her cautiously looking to all sides around, but nothing bad ever happened to her, or to those with her. She was called different names: Passion, Fury, even Hammer - the last one she got, when with a small security hammer only she managed to break down a brick’ wall; well, the wall was old and decaying, but her new nickname remained. Rosie was so happy and so optimistic, that sometimes it seemed to her that she was surrounded by fair, small lights, that looked like tiny flower petals circling around her and the world smelled with a flower scent afterwards. Previous friends from hospital stopped visiting her. And at the fire-station she had only one new one: they rather weren’t close to each other, as the other girl was not so pretty and therefore jealous for adoration given to Rosie by other colleagues. But for the firemen Rosie was truly a top secret: beautiful but unreachable, sad and happy at the same time.


This way one year passed over; Rosie’s thoughts more and more often turned back to the hospital, to Somalia and to home… so she finally realized, that she wanted to visit her parents, especially her mum. That was why she started to save money for the gifts, yes… lots of gifts, she wanted her family to be snowed under with all of them, and this way to say thank you for her life and for letting her choose another place for living.

But one day in late summer, well, you may also think it was an early autumn, the fire brigade received then a call out from the suburbs. When the fire engines stopped in front of her old hospital, Rosie felt suddenly a searing pain around her heart, for a while she found it difficult to breathe. The picture of the dying child returned with a new intensity, as if something, that was with all her strength put into a too small box, finally managed to blow it up. Trembling, with legs turned to lead she got out of the car, but, what she saw just in front of her, overwhelmed her imagination. The building was old, one of the first that were built in this area, with many smaller buildings attached later on and one bigger in the centre with the main entrance. Part of the old hospital was caved in. They were told that something was blown up there, the police was already working at place, and the first patients had been already evacuated, but Rosie stood rooted to the spot and cried: she felt guilty, as many times, and with all her heart she wished for the hospital to be wiped out. And at that moment the world stopped turning around her and it concentrated on the hospital explicitly. Rosie looked at the building and searched in her memory for all the rooms, passages, even beds’ positions in the rooms. After a while she perfectly knew where the most damages took place. She looked back, nodded to the driver as if to make farewell and then started to run towards the entrance in the left side of the hospital..

Joined: 27 Nov 2007, 17:07

20 Dec 2014, 11:09 #13

Wonderful entry, ewkada!

Things aren`t looking good for me to get my entry done this month. I am smack dab in the middle of a contracted novel, and as my mind is terribly linear, all I can think on is my current novel. I will try to get an issue done but it looks like it won't be until next month. =(

I'll still vote and cheer on everyone else though!

Joined: 03 Oct 2013, 20:56

22 Dec 2014, 02:00 #14

Feral Female @ Dec 20 2014, 05:09 AM wrote: Wonderful entry, ewkada!

Things aren`t looking good for me to get my entry done this month. I am smack dab in the middle of a contracted novel, and as my mind is terribly linear, all I can think on is my current novel. I will try to get an issue done but it looks like it won't be until next month. =(

I'll still vote and cheer on everyone else though!
Prioritize, Feral. I think you're the only one of us that has had his or her stuff published and put into print. Hey, one published novel is worth a million wins in an internet contest.

Joined: 03 Oct 2013, 20:56

22 Dec 2014, 02:42 #15

Marvel Star Wars: Arsenal - Chapter Eight

After having been kidnapped by Ti'i Pirates, Antoneid Starek, a brilliant Imperial Engineer escaped from them using a makeshift exoskeleton while being assisted by Yinsen, a Twi'lek doctor and a member of the Rebel Alliance. During his escape, Yinsen was unfortunately killed, but not before giving Antoneid coordinates to a Rebel base. Having either killed the Pirates or tricking them into abandoning ship, Antoneid escaped into hyperspace with an ancient Star Destroyer the Pirates had salvaged...

The Mogrieth System, Twenty-two days later…

Mogrieth was a relatively small world with a breathable atmosphere and, while not frozen over, was on the cold side for most humans. It lacked in abundance of valuable ores and its water supply was limited. In its most temperate regions, scrubby patches of orange and blue grasses covered many of its rolling hills long with the occasional thorn bush, but the majority of the vegetation was made up of green mosses and multicolored lichen that covered just about every available rocky surface. Its native animal life consisted of grub-worms that fed on the roots of the thorn bushes, small furry rodents that preyed upon them and rock-crabs that survived by consuming dead rodents.

It wasn’t a vacation spot. At least no place that Antoneid Starek would care to visit on his normally lavish excursions. It was, however, an ideal place for the Rebel Alliance to set up a temporary base. The star that Mogrieth orbited was an uninteresting cool yellow dwarf. The entire system consisted of four planets, three of which were bloated gas giants whose moons had been crushed by their immense gravities into ice covered boulders that had been scattered into drab looking rings. Mogrieth was the innermost planet and benefited the most from the dim star’s limited warmth.

Since Mogrieth and its system were so uninviting, it was a perfect place for the Rebel Alliance to set up shop. A modest base had been dug under the permafrost on one of the planet’s southernmost continents. The base housed nearly twenty thousand personnel and a hanger held nearly two hundred X-Wing and Y-Wing starfighters along with a half dozen Gallofree Medium Transports. Relatively nearby, a half dozen Mon Calamari capital ships were stationed in the innermost rings of the second planet in the system, a nameless brown and gray gas giant.

When a Venator Class star destroyer suddenly dropped out of hyperspace about a hundred thousand kilometers from Mogrieth, it caused more than a little stir for the small band of Rebels stationed in the system. Three of the six Mon Calamari warships were immediately dispatched to its location after making short, in-system hyperspace jumps. Fortunately for the star destroyer’s sole living occupant, upon exiting hyperspace the ship immediately began broadcasting a menagerie of throaty Ti’i folk tunes along with a sole human voice screaming at the top of his lungs: “Don’t shoot! I surrender!”

About two hours after the ship arrived, the sole human occupant of the ship had been taken into custody, given a security and medical examination then brought under guard to a secure room in the Rebel base.

“First of all, I apologize for the Ti’i music,” Antoneid Starek explained to his guards, both of whom were human and dressed in tan and white uniforms with tan colored dome shaped helmets. “It was all those Pirates had. As awful as it was, it was all I could find in their computers.”

“Fine, sir, just step up onto the holopad,” one of the two guards replied to him. They were both armed, but their blasters were holstered. Still, the presence of the weapons and the fact that he was the Empire’s best engineer kept him on edge.

Antoneid stepped cautiously onto the holopad, a raised set of metallic concentric circles two meters wide, wondering if the Rebel Alliance had possibly found the means to turn it into some sort of torture device. Over the past three weeks, he had already convinced himself that he would divulge anything and everything about the Empire that he could think of to them. If they wanted Imperial secrets, if he knew them, they would know them as well.

Once on top of the holopad in the center of the otherwise unoccupied room’s floor, Antoneid turned and looked at his guards.

“Is this good? Am I supposed to say something? Listen, if you want me to sing, I think I only know the words to one song in Basic. I’m kinda into Bith Jazz and the only singers I’ve been into are these Twi’lek girls…what’s their names…and they only sing in Huttese. Now if you want me to I can…”

“Thank you, Mr. Starek.”

Antoneid nearly jumped. The voice had come from behind him and not from the guards. Turning, he was faced with eight holographic images of people, only some of whom were human.

“Hello?” Antoneid said with a nervous smile.

“You are the Antoneid Starek, correct?” the holographic image of a Mon Calamari asked. Antoneid had only met a few Mon Calamari in his life, all of which were Imperial loyalists. He had always found their expressions hard to read, but immediately he surmised that the man was angry.

Or, at least, very serious.

“I am…your highness?

“ 'Admiral',” the Mon Calamari’s holograph replied. Another holograph spoke up. This one was of a Basilisk, a four armed gray creature with a boney head crest and a bushy mustache.

“According to our intelligence, Antoneid Starek is the Empire’s foremost engineer. A genius. According to our intelligence he is responsible for developing means for more efficient warship construction and a higher grade version of its Twin Ion Engine propulsion systems for its TIE fighter fleet. Are you saying that you are the one and the same?”

“Yes…and I’m defecting. If I could just…”

“Did the Empire install that thing in your chest before they sent you here?” a holograph of a human man asked him.

“No, actually, I did,” Antoneid explained. “It was sort of my means of escape, but I didn’t escape from the Empire. I actually was captured by…”

“Ti’i Pirates,” the Mon Calamari admiral finished his thought. “How did you end up with them?”

“An Imperial traitor by the name of Captain Danal Biet turned me over to them right after a weapons demonstration,” Antoneid explained. “She’s either in league with them or was bribed into helping them. I’m guessing the former and not the latter.”

“The Ti’i are a pack of scum eating vermin,” the Basilisk grunted. “As rotten to the core as the Empire is, why would an Imperial captain decide to risk her career and her relatively safe position as the commander of a ship and join up with them?”

Antoneid shrugged. “Sir, it’s a mystery to me. Trust me, Danal Biet is as evil as they come. Did they tell you that they…”

“Cut out your heart,” the Admiral cut in. “Yes, we’ve read your initial briefing. What is the device in your chest?”

Antoneid looked down at his chest. The shirt the Rebels had provided him with was thin enough for the blue glow of the device of which they were curious about to shine through.

“It’s what I call an arc reactor,” Antoneid said looking up at them. “What it does is…”

“Arc reactors are impossible to create,” the human replied. “You can’t maintain a quantum flux reaction perpetually. The coulomb barriers of individual atoms would be too hard to…”

“Aha!” Antoneid cut in with a proud smile, pointing at the human’s holograph. “That little quandary got every other Imperial engineer and droid I ever talked to! I just can’t understand how no one else sees that the coulomb barriers are not the issue.”

“What do you mean?” the human’s holograph asked with growing curiosity. “Wouldn’t there be an issue with all of the waste heat? I mean really, if it were possible there would be…”

“Pym, save it for later,” the Basilisk grunted. “We need to find out what this guy is up to. I think he’s an Imperial spy and a menace. Now how and why would the Imperials let someone as important as the one and only Antoneid Starek get into the hands of a supposedly treacherous starship captain just so a bunch of vermin could use him as a guinea pig for an arc reactor?”

“Um, a couple things,” Antoneid said with a cautious grin. “First, if you don’t trust me, why would you be tossing around ranks and names? Second of all, the Ti’i had a remotely controlled power source running the artificial heart that was installed in my chest. I created the arc reactor. It was modified from the one that I had installed in a torpedo that…”

“Antoneid,” the Mon Calamari Admiral said calmly. “The reason why we are ‘tossing names and ranks’ around is because any transmission you may be making to your ship or another spy isn’t leaving this room. If we reveal our identities to you, they shall not be uttered by you to anyone outside the Rebel Alliance while you are alive. Isn’t that right, Jajonna Gaemson?”

The Basilisk’s holograph turned and eyed the Mon Calamari’s for a moment then looked at Antoneid again.

“Not while you’re alive,” the Basilisk said with a menacing smile.

“Listen, you don’t need to be so threatening,” Antoneid said with defensively raised hands. “You have nothing to fear from me. The Ti’i Pirates may be ‘scum eating vermin’, but they’re not the monsters the Empire is. The weapon system they had me develop that was being tested just before I was captured by the Pirates is evidence of that. Jajonna, I’m guessing you’re involved with intelligence gathering. Can you let me explain the weapon system before you interrupt me?”

The Basilisk grunted then motioned for him to speak.

“Thank you,” Antoneid said. “Now, I have a droid I brought with me. It’s got the plans in his memory. Well…at least everything but the arc reactor and the miniature hyperdrive system. For security reasons, I keep that information in my head. I’m guessing you’ve reviewed it?”

“We have,” the Admiral replied. “Continue.”

“Anyway, basically, the torpedoes I developed aren’t so unusual or dangerous,” Antoneid explained. “What makes them dangerous is the fact that they are able to communicate with each other over interstellar distances via hyperwave communication systems and are able to be launched into hyperspace. A fleet armed with these torpedoes could destroy its enemies with absolutely no warning and without risking a single soldier or ship. Imagine if your fleet was in orbit around a planet and suddenly torpedoes began to exit hyperspace and rain on them before they could raise their shields. As the torpedoes exit from hyperspace they relay target information back to a single small to medium sized cruiser launching them. Your fleet wouldn’t have a chance. No ship would be quick enough to dodge a torpedo that suddenly dropped out of light speed just meters from its hull moving at maximum velocity.”

“Such a weapon system would make anyone, including the Ti’i Pirates an unstoppable force, given their ability to produce them,” a hologram of another darker skinned human man said, this one wearing a patch over his left eye. “I’m taking it that these supposed torpedoes with these supposed hyperdrives would be powered by these supposed arc reactors.”

“Yes, yes and yes,” Antoneid replied tapping his chest. “The one I have in my chest was modified from one taken from two of the torpedoes that had not been used during the test I was involved in. The other one was taken by the Ti’i Pirates after I…uh…commandeered their star destroyer.”

“With the exoskeleton that was powered by the arc reactor in your chest and made from pieces of one of these torpedoes,” the man with the patch said.

“Exactly,” Antoneid replied. “You have the exoskeleton in your possession now, unless your guys here decided to scrap it.”

“Our engineers at the base you’re in examined the exoskeleton,” the hologram of the man named Pym noted. “And they’re taking a look at the ship you came in. The exoskeleton looks to me like it functions, but, as you have implied, its power source is missing. Otherwise, with the blasters attached to it, it’s a walking arsenal.”

“The power source is in my chest…of course,” Antoneid told him. “And your engineers took a look at my arc reactor after they figured out it wasn’t a bomb. Now, they didn’t tell me anything about its power output. Now, can you tell me what they found out, Mr. Pym?”

The man in the holograph smiled slightly then leaned back in the chair he was sitting in, talking to someone next to him not viewable in the hologram. His audio had been cut as well. Meanwhile, the Mon Calamari admiral nodded as if Pym had been talking to him.

“Well?” Antoneid asked the Mon Calamari’s hologram.

“Our troops can access everything on the star destroyer you brought to Mogrieth except for a large room,” the Mon Calamari admiral said, eyeing him. “Their sensors are showing that it is mostly empty except for some ores and some manufacturing equipment.”

“Oh, yeah, that,” Antoneid said with a grin. “It’s where the Ti’i were planning on manufacturing the torpedoes once they wormed the way of making them out of me. (Didn’t happen.) After I screened the droids on board the ship, wiped some of their memories and reprogrammed them, I conducted a little project of my own in there. It’s also got my entire fortune that Danal Biet had stolen from my accounts and had stored on the ship. I really don’t want anyone touching it, for the obvious reasons.”

“Obviously,” the man with the eye patch replied. “But, if we can’t access that room, why should we trust you?”

“Well, I’m going to allow the Rebel Alliance to use that ship, but I want full access to it at all times,” Antoneid told them. “I spent a little over three weeks on that ship and it’s sort of become home to me.”

“A star destroyer is your personal yacht?” Jajonna asked with contempt filling his voice.

“Well, it provides a lot of security,” Antoneid replied. “And, hey, I’d rather have my own heart back, but a star destroyer will have to serve as payment in exchange for it.”

“Whatever happened to your heart?” the Mon Calamari asked quietly, seemingly disturbed by the notion the Pirates would have cut his out.

“Don’t know,” Antoneid replied. “One of the things I did before I got here was stop and dump all meat products out of the ship’s gantries and refrigerators. They were implying that they were going to feed my heart to their crew…or to me. I survived on greens and veggies, which certainly beat starving to death, but I’m dying for a steak dinner right now.”

“So, why did it take you three weeks to get here?” Jajonna asked. “Nothing in the galaxy takes three weeks in hyperspace to get to.”

“I stopped on the way here,” Antoneid explained. “First of all, to dump out all meat products from the ship like I said. A possible burial at sea for my heart, so to say. I also found a few of the hold out Pirates that were hiding from me. After I took care of them, I rounded up every droid on the ship and reprogrammed the ones that the Ti’i Pirates had programmed. The other ones were working with restraining bolts. After I checked them out, I found out that they had been stolen or captured and were actually pretty relieved that I had ‘liberated’ them from the Ti’i Collective. I had set up Imperial droids to run the ships that were used as targets during the demonstration of my torpedoes, so I was already familiar with how to program droids to operate ship systems.”

“They seem to be doing the job,” the man with the patch told the others before turning back to Starek. “What about this taskmaster droid, EgWa-Ye9? According to your initial briefing, you had it running with your own makeshift restraining bolt?”

“Well, after the Pirates shot it up, its body was nothing but scrap metal,” Antoneid explained. “I pulled its brain, gave it a memory wipe and reinstalled it in the body of an astromech. The droid still has an attitude of sorts, but he’s completely loyal and trustworthy.”

“What was the results of the droid scan, Jajonna?” the Mon Calamari admiral asked.

“It’s clean,” the Basilisk replied. “But like this guy said, it’s got an attitude.”

“I’ll talk to him later about it,” Antoneid told him, rolling his eyes.

“And finally, what of this doctor that you say was forced to remove your heart?” the Mon Calamari admiral asked.

Antoneid took a deep breath. “Yinsen. A Twi’lek doctor. A good man and a husband to a woman named Aeglia, and a father to a young man named Hyol and of twin girls named Skioa and Shiola. I didn’t know him for very long, but I consider him to be my friend and very much my hero. Despite the fact he was forced to cut my heart out, I owe him my life. He wanted me to let his family know that he died a free man. I don’t know what Twi’lek funeral customs are, but I did the best I could to preserve his body. I…I can’t help feel that I let him down, though. He should be treated and remembered for what he was to me – a hero.”

The holograms of the ones interrogating him became silent as they turned and talked to one another for a few moments while Antoneid waited. After they finished silently conferring with one another, the hologram of the counsel’s single human female, a woman that looked to be in her mid to late twenties with short dark hair spoke to him.

“My name is Mon Mothma,” she announced. “I am the elected leader of the Rebel Alliance. I am telling you this because I trust the judgment of Admiral Namor Ackbar, the commander of our fleet and that he trusts you.”

Antoneid’s eyebrows rose. “Wow. Um…really, I’m surprised you would just come out and say that. I mean, if I were you guys, I’d be a little more tight lipped about…”

“I didn’t say we were fools, Mr. Starek,” she quickly cut in with a smile. “Only one of the group that has been speaking with you is present on the base you are at. The Empire knows of all our identities. If you were brought to Mogrieth as a spy, your efforts would have been in vain. In the meantime, the one that is at your base is none other than our chief of security. His main concern is this missing torpedo and the Ti’i Pirates that are wanting to reproduce it. This counsel will now be adjourned and he will speak to you directly.”

“Um, wait, I…” Antoneid said as the holograms flickered and faded out of existence. Before Antoneid could turn, another door to the room opened and the man with the eye patch emerged. He was tall, bald and wore a dark trench coat under which Antoneid could see that he wore a couple of Vinit Mk II blasters, one on each hip.

As the two guards watched, the man walked up to Antoneid and held out a hand.

“Mace Fury,” the man told him as Antoneid shook his hand recognizing him to be the man from the holo. “And I’ve been ordered to take command of your ‘yacht’.”

“Um, I uh…don’t you guys in this Rebel Alliance believe in private property?” Antoneid asked irritably. “I mean, really, do you guys confiscate everything from the people coming to join you to free the galaxy from tyranny and everything? Wouldn’t such a confiscation be considered….?”

“I said I was taking command of it, not taking ownership of it,” Mace replied. “It is still very much your ship, including the estimated 9.2 trillion credits you have in its hold, according to the scanners.”

“9.2?” Antoneid replied. “That much? There must have been a market upswing just before I was captured.”

“I’m also guessing that you’ve been working on a weapons project during your twenty two days in between your escape and your arrival here,” the security director said. “We were hoping you’d be able to share your knowledge, know-how and any weapon system you develop with the Alliance.”

“Uh-uh,” Antoneid said raising his hands. “Listen, after listening to what Emperor Doom was planning on doing with my latest weapon system, I’m not developing anything for anybody. And before you say, ‘Hey, we’re fighting against the Empire. We’re the good guys, etc, etc’, I’d like to remind you that this isn’t the first time someone rose against an evil, Sith led Empire in this galaxy before. Even in Isharetti’s Empire State University, I’ve read their filtered version of history and have been able to deduce that even in the best of circumstances, corruption is liable to form. Listen, even if you…I mean we, the Rebel Alliance are able to overthrow the Imperial government and install a bastion of righteous freedom in its place, I DON’T want to arm it just so the next Emperor that overthrows that republic gets his dirty hands on them. Don’t get me wrong, I want to take down the guys that killed my father and used me my whole life. I’ve helped the Empire by improving its TIE fighters’ engines and improving its factories’ efficiency. I can help the Rebel Alliance the same way, but don’t expect me to every give anyone a potentially murderous weapon like that torpedo I had foolishly developed.”

Mace folded his arms and looked at Antoneid, thinking about what he had just said.

“Antoneid, you’d be surprised that there are many in the Rebel Alliance, including the people that talked to you just a little while ago, agree with everything you just said,” the security director. “I will convey your thoughts and feelings to them. In the meantime, I’d like to introduce you to members of my personal ‘strike force’. They are going to move their personal belongings and equipment onto the Avenger and transfer their fighters into its hangar…if you don’t mind.”

“I…yeah. Yeah, that would be fine,” Antoneid replied.

“Don’t be so worried, Antoneid,” Mace said putting his hand on his shoulder as they walked to the door. The security director motioned to the two guards and they immediately opened the door for them. “My security force acts more like a shield than a sword. As I take command of your yacht, our first priority will be to hunt down and find the ship you referred to as the Silkworm and this missing torpedo that has the miniaturized hyperdrive and arc reactor. If we are going to protect ourselves, we need to be sure that no one else has the potential to use such a weapon against us or anyone else.”

“Listen, I’ve heard of this Dr. Pym you’ve got with you,” Antoneid told him. “From what I’ve heard, that guy’s possibly as smart as I am. He says an arc reactor can’t exist. So if he thinks they can’t exist and can’t be built, I don’t see why…”

“But, the evidence to the contrary sits in the middle of your chest,” Mace told him back. “And, despite his argument to the contrary, he believes you’ve found a way to create the impossible. My fear and the fear of those people you just talked to is that someone is going to take a look at that other torpedo and the arc reactor inside it and eventually figure out a way to create a whole new class of weapons that will turn this entire galaxy into a bloodbath. That’s something I’d like to put an end to before it begins.”

Antoneid nodded. “Agreed.”

“Your private ‘little yacht’ has Pirate codes in its computers along with navicomputers with possible ways to locate not only the Ti’i Collective’s staging bases, but possibly also the way to track down the Silkworm,” Mace told him as they walked down an increasingly busier hallway bustling with Rebel troops and personnel. “I’d appreciate having you along with me because I think you’ve got the know-how to help me accomplish the mission.”

“Thanks…I guess,” Antoneid said as a familiar blue, silver and white astromech droid rolled toward them. “To tell you the truth, I’d like to have some peace of mind about that torpedo as well.”

The droid that Antoneid had seen rolled up to the two of them.

“Hello, sir,” the droid said in Basic. “How did your interrogation go? I hope they didn’t torture you too severely.”

Mace raised the eyebrow above his single eye and stared at Antoneid.

“Heh, heh…” Antoneid laughed nervously in response to the droid. “Director Fury, this is the droid I told you about. I’ve designated him as JR3-V6. I call him Jarvee for short.”

“A pleasure meeting you, sir,” the droid said turning to look at the one eyed man with his own single, red eye. “I hope my master didn’t bore you with an account of his youthful escapades.”

“No, he didn’t,” Fury replied. “I’ve never met an astromech droid that spoke Basic before.”

“Yeah,” Antoneid said, putting his hand on the droid’s domed head. “I figured I’d also install the Ti’i droids vocator while I was installing his memory-wiped brain. I can’t stand all that whistling and beeping astromechs do. If I can make a droid talk in my language, shouldn’t I do it?”

“Yeah…strange though,” Mace said. “Now, let’s go to the hangar.”

“Can we go to somewhere we can eat a real meal first?” Antoneid asked. “I’m about half starved after eating Ti’i veggies for three weeks.”

Joined: 03 Oct 2013, 08:56

22 Dec 2014, 14:56 #16

Feral Female @ Dec 20 2014, 05:09 AM wrote: Wonderful entry, ewkada!

Things aren`t looking good for me to get my entry done this month. I am smack dab in the middle of a contracted novel, and as my mind is terribly linear, all I can think on is my current novel. I will try to get an issue done but it looks like it won't be until next month. =(

I'll still vote and cheer on everyone else though!
How many novels have you published?

How much does it pay?

And what are some of the titles of your novels?

The reason for my asking is because I, too, am working on a novel of my very own. I also have ideas for a sequel, and some other novels planned for the future. So, anything you can tell me would be most enlightening.

Thanks, Feral. :friends:


Joined: 27 Nov 2007, 17:07

23 Dec 2014, 11:40 #17

Great entry, BT!

Thanks for understanding all. I sure do miss my fan fiction tales though. *sigh*

As to your questions about writing/publishing I'd be happy to answer them if I can, Green Scar.

Linking you up to my Amazon author page would be the easiest way for you to see how many books I have published to date. I just signed a contract with my publisher for 9 books in a new hockey series so those are what I'm working on now. ... srch_lnk_b

I write primarily M/F erotic hockey romance but I do dabble in other genres, such as M/M romance, but the M/F hockey series are my bread and butter.

Every house pays a different percentage, but the ones I'm contracted with pay authors 40%. You won`t get rich unless Jupiter is aligned with Mars, your mother is shelling peanuts and a peacock rests on your shoulder the day your book releases. Don`t write for profit, write because you love the craft and to exorcise the voices in your head. =)

If you, or anyone else, has any questions, fire away. I'm always happy to help new authors in any way I can.

Joined: 26 Nov 2007, 16:50

23 Dec 2014, 14:49 #18

Here is my story from the Thunderbolts.

His hands were trembling. Sweat beaded up on aged forehead and after four bottles of water his tongue still felt as dry as the Gobi Desert. Glancing out the small oval window of the small plane, the older gentlemen’s blue eyes darted back and forth, scanning the bare tarmac for anything unusual.

“Mr. Nekhorvich?”

“Guh!” he gasps, turning around the young 20something flight attendant standing over him, “Are you okay?” he asks with a smile.

Pulling out a white handkerchief, Nekhorvich wipes his forehead while drawing in a deep fluttered breath, “Ye-yes. Danke.” He nods.

Smiling at him, the young blond flight attendant leans in close to him, “We were notified you had a fear of flying, trust me…” she says, placing her hand on his shoulder, “…we’ll take good care of you.” She says.

Nodding at her comforting words, Nekhorvich takes a deep breath and reaches for his seatbelt upon hearing the ‘fasten seatbelt’ alert through the plane’s overhead speakers.

*This is your Captain speaking, we are ready to begin our take off to Quebec Canada where we have a scheduled layover and then another continued flight for some of you to Sydney Australia. Overall flight time should be 22 hours, so please make yourselves comfortable and our lovely stewardesses are here to assist you.*

Breathing into a paper bag, the older gentlemen Nekhorvich leans forward between his legs as the planes turbines cause the plane to tremble from its power.

“You okay Vladimir?”

Glancing up, Vladimir Nekorvich looks up at the lovely Daisy Johnson decked in her black trench coat taking a seat in front of him. Nodding at her, Vladimir continues breathing into his brown bag as Daisy Johnson smirks at the sight of the older man hyper-ventilating into a brown bag. Pulling her seatbelt across her waist, Daisy Johnson clicks it into place before brushing aside strands of her short black hair away from her brown eyes as she looks out the window of the plane. Feeling the sudden pull into his seat, Vladimir grabs onto the arm rest of his seat, feeling the momentum of the plane as it speeds down the runway.

Gritting his teeth with anxiety and closing his eyes as he feels the vibrating plane start lift up, Daisy simply shakes her head at the sight of Vladimir ready to explode out his skin with panic as the plane lifts off the ground and soars into a steep climb into the air.

“oh dashka nama.” Vladimir sighs, opening his eyes as the plane levels out.

“You were serious when you said you had a fear of flying.” Daisy quips, smirking at Vladimir’s bushy pepper gray eyebrow arch at her comment.

“I strongly believe that man is meant to be curious…” Vladimir Neckorvich says, “…but from the ground. Flight is for the birds.” He finishes, closing his eyes while pulling down the window shade beside him.

Rolling her eyes, Daisy unbuckles her seatbelt and crosses her legs as she keeps her eyes on the older man, “Well I guess today you are a bird.”

“Unfortunately yes I am.” Vladimir agrees, “I am a bird today and I am glad you met with me Katya.”

Daisy nods, “Anything for an old friend, even if you did not tell your old friend everything.”

Looking around cautiously, Vladimir sees the various businessmen and women occupied on their laptops, headphones plugged in their ears while others remain fast asleep with sleeping masks over their eyes, and leans in close to Daisy, “For your safety Katya. That was all I ever cared for.”
Leaning to the edge of her seat, Daisy Johnson lets out a sigh, “You know I’m a big girl now right? The people I work for are very powerful.”

“Da da.” Vladimir nods, “And this is also why I call you and no one else.”

“So you mind telling me the entire, situation?”

Vladimir runs his hands through his brittle grey hair before rubbing his face with his hands, letting out a stressful sigh.

“We make it.” He says simply before looking into Daisy’s eyes, “A prototype you see. Made to find this, x-gene, and slowly, gradually, cause white blood cells to attack them without causing Leukemia or other cancer you see.”

Daisy covers her mouth, trying to contain her amazement, “Vladimir that is wonderful.”

“Da Katya it is.” smiles Vladimir but lets out a sigh and looks to the floor as his countenance becomes ominous and burdened, “That was til my formula was changed.”

“How so?”

“Katya…” Vladimir says, shaking his head before looking up at her with tearful eyes, “…they are monsters. All of dem, monsters. They take a formula for life, ah-and corrupt it on purpose. They reverse engineer formula, and make drug meant to kill mutant and all relatives with same blood type. They call it Legacy.”

“Are you kidding me?” Daisy gasps, narrowing her eyes at him, “They can – is that why you called me? To get you to safety?”

“Yes Katya, because…” Vladimir pauses, looking around cautiously before turning back to her, “…because I smuggle vial.”

Daisy’s eyes open wide, “Vla-Vladimir, what are you talking about? You have one? On you now?”

“In bloodstream.” Vladmir smiles, tapping his head as Daisy sits back in her seat, shocked “Ah ah see I dink you think ol Nekhorvich no have mind but he have mind still. Even if English is still eh meh…”

Daisy clenches her jaw and leans in towards him, “Vladimir, something like this…you know they’re going to know you did this.”

“Da. Three vials leave uh, one with green broccoli juice.” Vladimir nods, “I take one and make anti-virus.”

“Wah…” Daisy gasps, “…you made the cure?”

“Dah, I make cure.” Vladimir states, “Cure to Legacy Virus. Only.” He says, cautiously pulling out a metal vile with purple liquid.

Daisy’s eyes open wide in surprise before looking up at Vladimir, “You did good Vladimir, you did real good.” She says, patting him on the shoulder.

Vladimir smiles, sitting back in his seat comfortably, “You see why I call, demand flight, something small you see? No attention.”

“Very smart.” Daisy smirks, “No attention, inconspicuous, but the minute we land…”

“We see Fury yes.” Vladimir interjects, “Right away. Virus is in my blood I have perhaps twenty hours before symptom comes.”

“But you’re not even a mutant.”

“Da Katya, but virus is still virus. It breakdown all cells host in non-mutant biology after 20 hour. On 21st hour, organ fail. Two hour later, heart burst…very bad Katya, very bad.” Vladimir says,
“Must have uh, how you say, die-al? Da-eh…”


“yes yes.” Vladimir nods, “Clean blood, remove old, with virus. Once you take blood you will be able to find more yes? Destroy it all at Laboratory.”

“oh we’ll do more than that Vladimir.” Daisy smiles as she puts on her black leather gloves.
Vladimir looks at Daisy oddly, “Why you say this? What more to do Katya?”

Daisy eyes lock with Vladmir as an evil smile comes across her face as she leans in towards him,

“Vladimir…” she sighs, “…I wish you’d stop calling me Katya.” She says.

Vladimir’s eyes open wide, “You-you are not my Katya?” he asks.

Daisy suddenly pushes Vladimir back by his mouth, muffling his scream and stabs him in the neck
with a concealed knife!

“OH MY GAWD!” yells the steward behind her just emerging from the curtain behind Daisy.
Quickly Daisy pulls out the knife while flipping it in her hand, stabs the Stewardness in the leg, causing her to fall into Daisy’s arm as she stands up and snaps her neck.

“OH MY GAAAAAHHH!!” screams a businessmen who is suddenly grabbed by the man sleeping in the seat beside him and is stabbed in the chest repeatedly.

Daisy stands at the head of the aisle, hearing the screams and pleas for help as she drops her black trench to the floor, revealing her shapely figure in a black body suit with a gun strapped to her hip and two thin knives strapped to her forearms. Watching her men disguised as random passengers jump out their seats and kill the passengers seated beside them, she pulls off her brown wig, revealing her thick curly blond hair and drops it to the floor.

Looking down at Vladimir bleeding from his mouth as he clutches his neck gushing out blood, the woman smiles at him while reaching her in her eyes, pulling out her brown contact lenses to reveal her vibrant green eyes; quickly she reaches to the back of her cheek bone and peels off a thin translucent mask film sticking to her entire face as the screams in the plane suddenly stop.

Dropping the translucent face mask to the floor the curly blond beauty stretches her jaw and cracks her neck before opening her green eyes to the six men dressed in black uniforms standing over the dead bodies in the small aircraft, as one hands her a black backpack, “Commandant Belova.”

Looking at her watch, Natasha Belova nods at the pilots door behind her, “Eliminate them.” She orders the two large men who promptly walk past her, begin shooting into the cockpit door as she kneels down to Vladimir.

Hearing him gag on his own blood and cough his life away, Belova rummages through his pocket as his condemning eyes look at her in shock the men break into the pilots cockpit. Hearing four quick shots in the cockpit, Belova pulls out Vladimir’s wallet and taking the metal vile, Belova looks at him stare at her as the plane goes into a diving incline.

“For what it’s worth…” Belova says but pauses for a moment peeling a thin tape, containing a nano-chip in the middle, off her throat, and clears her throat, “…it’s business.” She says in her Russian accent.


Standing up, Belova puts on her black knapsack and clips its straps around her chest and full chest before quickly strapping the vile and wallet to her utility belt.

Holding up her three fingers, Belova puts on her black glasses and grabs hold of the above storage railing to steady herself, “NOW!” she shouts.

Immediately one of the men presses down the button of the control in his hand, causing an explosion to blow off the door. Instantly the howling wind sucks each man out the plane as the cabin pressure is released with Belova streaking out the plane and bathed in the bright sunny skies and greeted with wintery cold-air howling in her ears.

Plummeting in the gale force winds over a snowy wilderness, Belova blond hair whips in the wind as she spreads her arms and legs while looking down at the plane barreling towards the wilderness in the distance and pulls out a silver pen from inside her black sleeve. Watching the small plane crash into the icy slopes and skid down to the Evergreen trees coating the wilderness grounds, Belova presses down on the top and immediately sees the deafening explosion bursts out the middle of the plane with a fiery fireball lifting into the sky as black smoke bellows from the sight.
Pulling on her ripcord, a black parachute emerges from her backpack, slowing her descent over the snowy wilderness. Hearing the cold gusts of wind howling her ears, Belova pulls out the metal vial, looking at the purple liquid with a smile.


MISSION FILE 102 SUMMARY 1 the Caribbean

Standing in front of two open terrace doors in a darken room, Daisy Johnson remains as still as she can be with her eyes closed, listening to the waves crashing on the beach several feet away.

Opening her brown eyes, Daisy Johnson steps off the wood floor to the warm sandy beach as sunlight filters between the palm trees hanging over the entrance of her terrace doors and before breaking into a sprint to the blue waves before her, “Woo hoo!” she shouts.

With a thrust of her hands, the sand beneath Daisy’s feet thrusts up a sandy column, launching her into the air as she swan dives into the salty warm waters. Submerged under the crystal blue waters, Daisy kicks her feet, swimming to the sandy seabed as water fills her ears and runs her hand along the sand. Holding her breathe with bubbled cheeks, her brown eyes search swiftly and eagerly til she spots what she is looking for. Grabbing it with one hand, Daisy inverts her body and kicks her feet up, gasping for air as she breaches the surface of the glimmering waters with a smile as warm Caribbean sun hits her face.

Looking at what she holds tightly in her palms, Daisy looks at the purplish sea-shell with mother of pearl inside, “Love these things.” She mumbles as she floats in the water.

With a simple wave of her hand, Daisy hears the rumble under the water as soft sand raises up from the seabed to her feet, gently ushering out the water to the beach with ease.

Shaking her feet as the cold hits her skin, Daisy scampers to her small huts open doors as she looks at the shell in her hand.

She had to get it cleaned if she even thought about wearing it, she thought.

Making her way past the bedroom to the open kitchen pilled with pots and pans, Daisy runs the facet water, rinsing off the sandy shell eagerly. Holding up the shell over her head, Daisy looks upon the shell’s mother of pearl glisten from the little light coming between the shades.

“Are’nt you a beautiful little thing…oh goodness I forgot.” She sighs to herself, “UGH where is it?” pushing aside pots and pans in the sink before quickly grabbing out a small gun and turning around to the wall behind her, shooting a straight line across the wall before seeing a man dive onto his back on the floor in front of her bedroom door, holding his hand out!

“FREEZE!” she shouts, thrusting her hand out to him as sand erupts through the floor filling in his gun barrel and pulling the man by his legs, waist, hand and torso into the sandy ground!

“DAISY DAISY!!” shouts the man.

Daisy Johnson clenches her square jaw, stalking toward the man in her orange bikini with her gun aimed at his head but lowers her gun at seeing the assailants face, “Nick! WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!” she shouts, looking at Nick Fury buried up to his neck in sand, “I COULD HAVE KILLED YOU!” she shouts.

Nick raises his eyebrow, “You think it'd make it that easy?”

Hearing a click behind her, Daisy looks over her shoulder at Maria Hill smiling at her with a gun aimed at her head from behind, “Good to see you Daise, you mind?” she asks, nodding at Nick.

Rolling her tongue in her mouth, lifting up her gun as it swings on her finger while flicking her arm up, causing Nick Fury to be throwing out the sandy floor and back onto his feet.

Handing Maria Hill the gun as she lowers hers, Daisy bumps Maria’s shoulder as she walks past her while Nick shakes the sand out his leather coat.

“You know how long its gonna take before I don’t feel sand up my crack!” Nick grumbles.

“Not long enough.” huffs Daisy, running the water from the kitchen faucet and filling a glass with water.

“So, how is…?” Maria Hill pauses looking around the shabby hut and the King size bed with rolled up sheets, “…vacation?”

Daisy slams down the cup of water, turning around to Maria Hill, “Like you don’t know?”

“Well I am asking.” Maria swiftly retorts.

“Because you drugged the guy I slept with and maybe questioned him for a hour so you’re just asking to be nice.” Daisy snaps, folding her arms and tilting her head, “Still the girl with a stick up your...”

“As are you.” Maria smirks, “Doesn’t matter though, you still copied my haircut.”

“Oh don’t flatter yourself.” Daisy grunts, running her hand through her short hair.

“I hate to interrupt this lovely conversation.” Nick Fury says, sitting down on the edge of Daisy’s bed, “But we have a situation and coming to the tropics in my leather coat should tell you that I’m already here longer than I planned.”

Rolling her eyes, Daisy lets out a huff, “I’m not coming back.”

“It’s been two months your vacation is over.”

“I’m sorry but its just beginning.” Daisy counters, “I don’t work for you, you Sardonic Old Man! I quit, remember?”

“No I don't. What I remember was Agent Quake, throwing a four year old tantrum because a member of her team killed…”

“Murdered.” Daisy corrects through her clenched teeth.

“…murdered…” Nick acknowledges, “…a mass murderer and now you’ve…taken up this glory hole.” He says, raising his arms up and looking around the hut, “I swear if you were any more off-grid we’d be neighbors.”

“I’d shoot your dog.” Daisy says with narrowed eyes.

“It’s time to come back Daisy.” Maria Hill says bluntly, “Your decision to leave wasn’t yours.”


“When you work for a black ops SHIELD team who has whole files redacted and black inked paper than next seasons Walking Dead script, than Maria is right, you make no decisions.” Nick says, “You go, when we say so and we need you.”

Daisy turns around, leaning over the counter, “I don’t murder. I don’t execute. I save lives I am…”

“Living In a $%^& bubble.” Nick says, standing up from the bed, watching Daisy’s shoulders lower, “If you think our methods are too harsh, fine. You’re allowed your point of view, but I run my point of view all over yours when you clock into work.”

“Which is why I’m NOT working for you!” Daisy counters.

“And you’re going to want to come back.” Nick says, tossing photos to the bed.

Daisy glances over her shoulder to bed, seeing black and white photos of a plane crash.

“What happened another Helicarrier crash?”

“No, a scientist was killed.” Nick informs her, “A scientist that work for Sublime International, remember the company you…’

“The one I went undercover after my first year from the academy and took down, yes I remember.” Daisy recollects, “And if I’m not mistaken, when I was done, that company burned down to the ground.”

“Yes well it seems that their lead Chemical Bio-engineer Vladimir…”

“Neckorvich!” Daisy exclaims, turning around, “He was my informant. He…”

“Apparently tried to contact you.” Nick finishes, “And when we couldn’t get you, you came and got him onto this flight.”

Daisy’s eyes open wide as she turns to the photos, “That’ s impossible.”

“We know.” Maria says as Daisy turns to her, “Which is why we need you to…”

“Tell you guys who did?”

“No we know who did it.” Nick states, “But why?”

Daisy narrows her eyes, “You don’t come to me without working theories, you never do. What’s
going on here.”

Maria looks at Nick who glances at her and nods.

Maria draws a deep breath and looks at Daisy, “It seems like your friend Neckorvich, went back working with a shadow company for Sublime International after they went under. We heard rumors they were developing a biochemical weapon. Seems like Neckorvich was heading up the project and…”

“Was gonna do what we did the first time around.” Daisy mumbles, “He'd learn all the details before he called me. Made missions a cake walk til it was an art. He was an ace like that. Cut off the head, never the body.”

“Well it seems he found some way to smuggle whatever it was they were developing out, because
he contacted ‘you’ and ‘you came.” Maria says, looking at Daisy arch her eyebrow at the statement, “Than the plane went down, with him.”

“Who did it?” Daisy asks, tightening her fist, “Was it Hydra? Is this retaliation?!”

“No.” Maria sighs, “It’s Belova, it’s one of us.”

Daisy’s eyes open wide and looks at Fury looking at her coldly, “Are you kidding me?”

“We think that whatever it is they got from Neckorvich, they’re gonna sell or release but Belova…”

“Was a level 10 agent!” Daisy snaps, “I’m not, i mean, wasn't even that.”

“Which makes you perfect for infiltrating and getting to her.” Nick says.

“WHOA WHOA!” Daisy exclaims, waving her hands, “I’M NOT infiltrating Belova and…and…no. It won’t work, she isn’t even into girls and…’

“We know.” Maria interrupts, “We need you to formulate the team that will infiltrate her team or whatever she is running out of Sydney and bring her the man she had strong connections with in the past.”

Putting her hands on her hips, Daisy raises her eyebrow, “And who is that?”

“Fantomex.” Nick says, watching Daisy’s eyes snap to him at the sound of his name as her face reddens.

“What.” She says with a deadpanned look.

“We ran simulations, he’s our best choice, best option.” Nick sighs.

Daisy folds her arms, “I’m not talking…”

“Before you say anything that sounds like ^&* !@# on a stick…” Maria interjects, “…I just want you to look at this photo.” She says, holding up an image of the crash site, “And tell me if your crap has any thing on the 50 innocent people who got killed because of Belova, or if your issues surpass the millions in jeaporady because of her and a bio-chemical weapons…”

Daisy looks at the photo and clenches her jaw and looks at Nick looking at her.

“…if you do, than fine I get it.” Maria says, “But if not, than I gotta say, if you say no, not only will I really not like you more than I do, but I won’t be able to respect you because you’ll be just as bad as Belova and truly deserve this little HOLE you dug for yourself on this island.”

Daisy clenches her jaw at the sentence but looks to the floor, saying nothing.
Nick nods, “Good, we’ll see you at 900 hours tomorrow. We’ll send a helicopter, you know, because heiicarriers crash.” He smirks

“I didn’t say yes.” Daisy snaps, watching Nick and Maria walk away.

Nick looks over his shoulder and smiles, “You didn’t say no either.

Daisy simply closes her eyes, drawing a deep breath.

Somewhere in SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA –

Walking down the white concrete stairs, the blond Yelena Bulova, decked in her form-fitting white shirt and white shorts, steps down to the dark wood floor home she owns. Walking by the wall to ceiling windows on her left, Yelena walks with a spring in her step past the living room with white furniture and a black bear rug at its center; taking a deep breath and wiping the sweat from off her forehead, she makes her way to the open kitchen where stops before a tall Officer wearing his U.S. Army uniform stands in her kitchen.

“Well…” she huffs, “…I didn’t think you’d make a personal visit, I’m honored, I think.”

“You said there would be no collateral damage.” The officer states, pointing his stubby finger at her, “You said…”

“That I wouldn’t be traced and I wasn’t.” Yelena says, brushing by the older officer to her refrigerator, “I was efficient, fast and I got to say I impressed even myself.” She says, pulling out a tall bottle of water that she quickly starts drinking.

“Yes and I just got a call from the president telling me that Nick Fury is trying to reassemble his team.”

Shrugging as she pulls down her bottle of water, Yelena shakes her head, “So the old man decided to get his band back together, what? After what four weeks of inactivity, that’s normal.”

“Not for him. Never for him.” The Officer states firmly, “He is a bull-dogged toy soldier. Its bad enough we have Captain America running out there in the world trying to fight for peace and justice in the…”

“American Way?” Yelena smiles.

“NO! According to how they think Justice works.”

“Which isn’t good for your wallet eh Kernel?” Yelena smirks, watching his face redden. Waving her hand, Yelena shakes her head, “I’m only joking, on that, but I don’t tell you how to run your house so don’t tell me how to run mine.”

“I’ll tell you how to do that if I’m bankrolling…”

“You’re an investor.” Yelena interrupts, pointing at him with a steak knife, “I mean, I have money..” she says, waving her knife around, making the Kernel put his hands up worriedly and back away, “…I have resources and I’m just doing a SMALL SMALL job for you!” she says, backing him into a corner.

“And I’m worried that you’re recklessness will cost you AND me both more than what we bargained for.” He says, backing into her metal stove as she threatens him with the blade.

Yelena, pressed up against him with her knife to his army green chest, smiles at him swiftly tosses the knife over her shoulder. The Kernal watches the steak knife flip through the air over the kitchen island-counter and stab into the top apple amidst her fruit bowl by the window.

Looking at her, Yelena winks at him before backing away, “I know you’re worried, but i'm not, so shut up! I got the Legacy Virus, that was just one part of this entire plan.” She says, pat drying her face with a dish towel, “Now that I have it, I have to get the cure, cause the demand for the cure and then profit off it. Nothing interrupts that process. I have it all under control but you though, i see i don't. So take some advice, take a chill pill or a Cialis, calm down and don’t visit me unexpected anymore unless i call you.” She says, walking out the kitchen.

“And how will you deal with the Thunderbolts if they come to your doorstep? With your bravado or your debunked B.W training?” The Kernel asks.

Yelena stops at the threshold of her large kitchen, turns on her heels and points to the Kernel, “I’m the BEST Black Widow there ever was…” she snarls, “…and if they come after me, if ANYONE comes after me I will do the same thing I’ve always done, disarm, disable and then disembowel.” She snaps, watching the Kernels eyes open wide, “They don’t scare me. If S.T.R.I.K.E. didn’t scare, these rookies won’t either.” She huffs, storming away.


Under the bright pale moon, positioned in a wet alleyway with a flashing florescent pink light over a black van, inside Daisy Johnson holsters a small silver pistol in her short black pea-coat, clipping it securely in the concealed gun-holster on her shoulder.

“Sure you ready for this?” ask a shield agent who sits ready at a laptop.

Daisy lets out an annoyed snort before looking at the agent with an annoyed glare as she buttons up her coat, “Wish to heaven everyone would stop asking me that?” she grumbles, pushing the small translucent radio transceiver-bud in her ear.

Nervously turning back to his computer, the agent adjusts the frequency for the communicator, “Just that some of wonder why you came back is all.” The agent mumbles.

Rolling her brown eyes, Daisy runs her hand through her short black hair before grabbing the handle to sliding door, “I wonder why myself sometimes.” She replies before sliding the weighty door open and hopping out.

“Well it’s an honor to –

Daisy slams the door shut, rocking the van with the agent gulping and raising his eyebrow as he slowly turns back to his computer, “…work with you.” He mumbles.


Walking down the dirty damp alleyway under the moonlight, Daisy clenches her jaw from foul stink rising from the sewers filling her nose. Between the odor of the vomitus sewer water and the blinking pink overhead sign bathing her in its glow every few moments, she could barely see the concealed Service Door entrance 50 feet ahead; the Service Entrance to the ‘Colonnade’ Night Club.

She hated night clubs. All the noise, all the chest-thumbing bass, the deafening noise and crowds…

No, she had to focus, no matter how much a Tahitian Beach with unlimited Mai Tai’s sounded right now, she a job to do.

Approaching the Service Entrance of the club, Daisy could see the entrance guarded by two men in cheap shiny suits under a small grimy florescent light. The two brawny men both wearing dark sunglasses at night no less – screamed ‘This is the secret entrance’ by their obvious appearance – idiots. Idiot-Thug No. 1 had a thick gold chain around his neck while Idiot-Thug No. 2 wore gold rings on each finger of his left hand. Cheap bouncers at a sleazy night club…this was the best way to get in.

Seeing one of them lean away from the door and look at the Black Van parked up the alley, his eyes shifted onto the short-haired brunette walking to him in her black jeans and black pea-coat, keeping her hands in her pockets.

“Hey Princess…” one of them says upon seeing Daisy approach, “…I think you and your buddy’s are lost!” he says, pointing to the black van but Daisy doesn’t stop her march towards them.

“Yo maybe she’s lookin’ for a lil action huh? Don’t want her uppity tah’ do girlfriends knowin’ she lookin’ for some action huh?” the other one says as Daisy stands in front of them.

Looking up at them both, Daisy could see they were both easily 6’2, probably weight 230-250lbs.

Letting out a sigh, Daisy smiles at them while narrowing her eyes, watching their ugly faces crease a smile.

“Well you know…” she says seductively as she steps closer to one of them, but swiftly she kicks in his right knee as he cries out in pain over the crunching sound of broken cartilage as he drops on his knee in pain screaming while Daisy grabs the other man’s crouch, hearing him howl like a wolf to the moon, paralyzed from the pain as Daisy glares into his eyes, squeezing harder and harder.

“AH AH PLEEEEEEEEEEEZE!” the man shrieks, but screams in pain as Daisy pulls down the mans jewels, forcing him onto his knees.

Seeing the other man struggle to get up, Daisy swiftly kicks him in the face with her steel-toe boot, watching him drop face first before letting go of the first thugs crouch, hearing him gasp in a high pitch voice as she swiftly twirls around and rams her knee into his temple, driving his head into the brick wall.

Watching them both slump to the floor, Daisy looks up at the door with a steely gaze and touches the side of her earpiece, “They’re down.”

“Deal with it Bukowski, I’m going in.” Daisy says, pulling a keycard off one of the men on the floor, waves it at a panel before hearing the door unlock. Yanking the door open, Daisy steps back as a plume of gold glitter flies out the door and onto her; clenching her jaw, Daisy looks inside to the dark club as deafening music fills her ears with flashing lights flickering about to the beat of the DUB step music.


Inside the dimly lit yet outstandingly loud, Daisy grits her teeth as she pushes past the packed crowd of people. Surrounded by wall to wall amounts of people, Daisy looks up and gawks in shock at the sight of bikini-clad women dancing in the gold human-sized cages overhead as gold glitter rains down on everyone, causing an instantaneous roar of glee from the revelers.

Shaking her head in disgust, Daisy holds one hand over her ear as she pushes past a loud speaker blaring the lyric, “YOLO! YOLO” amidst the fog-horn being sounded from the dreadlock wearing DJ pointing on the platform, pointing at the crowd. The roar from the crowd, the pulsating beat of the deafening speakers makes Daisy vibrate from the intense bass as she can barely hear her own thoughts, let alone feel her heartbeat.

Finally pushing past the last of the happy revelers, Daisy turns around, looking over the crowd and sees various security goons swiftly making their way to the back exit. They found the men she beat up, she had minutes if anything.

“HI YOU WANNA DANCE!” shouts a lady in a black cocktail dress with glitter sprinkled on her face and drink in her hand.

Daisy smiles and pushes the lady by the face to the floor and quickly hops over her, making her way to the back of the room under the overhead walkway and walks down the dark corridor. The deafening music echoes down the hallway as people continue in their illicit activities as she takes no time walking past them where the corridor opens up to another smaller room where an elevator can be seen.
Immediately as she approaches a man in a black suit steps out, blocking her path.

“YOUR LOST!” he shouts over the loud music.

Daisy shakes her head as she puts her cups her hand behind her ear, “THE BATHROOM YOU SAID!”

The man rolls his eyes “Dumb broad…” he grumbles and leans down to the woman’s ear, “I SAID-

Daisy quickly grabs the man by the back of his neck and slams him head first in the wall, cracking the concrete on impact before swiftly driving her knee into his face, breaking his nose and forcibly drops him straight down to the floor face first knocking him out.

Standing back up and taking a deep breath, Daisy looks up at everyone in the dark corridor behind her, staring at her in shock.
Narrowing her eyes at them, everyone begins rushing out the corridor
Looking at the thug on the floor, Daisy reaches down and takes the man’s keys clip to his belt and immediately spots a key lock under the elevator call button.

Making no waste of time, Daisy grabs the key and insert it under the elevator call bell. As soon as she turns the key the elevator door opens, greeting her with a dense purplish black light illuminating inside the inside the car.

Clenching her jaw, Daisy steps inside the elevator car and sees only one button going up. Punching the button, Daisy watches the door slowly slide shut, sealing off the deafening club music from outside.
Dropping her gold glittered pea coat to the black reflective floor, Daisy zips up her tight fitting black Kevlar body suit to her neck, ruffles the gold glitter out her short brown hair and removes her silver pistol from her holster.

It was quietest in the elevator. The reflective walls all round Daisy made her tense. Looking at herself from all angles, Daisy could only see a pissed off woman. A woman in her late 20s, in a club, with a gun in her hand and all she wanted to do was hit something. 3 people down and still more to go, Daisy could feel that nothing was relieving her anger, instead it was growing, more and more as the elevator jolted slight and slowed to a crawl as it approaches the Penthouse floor.

Sliding the out the magazine to the gun and checking her bullets, Daisy clenches her jaw and at the sight of the gun. She hated herself like this. She felt irriational, petty, yet, in the back of her mind…she really wanted to do this.

Grabbing her attention like a boxer in a ring, Daisy hears the ‘ding’ of the elevator ring in her ear. Her brown eyes narrow and focus the reflective metal door that slides open.

Marching out the door the hard-wood floor, Daisy glances on her left, she was in the penthouse behind one-way mirror glass, but Daisy turns her attention to the crowd of guests and stops in pure shock.

It was purely night and day. So much so night and day that any more so and the environments would be a cross between Inception and Bipolar episode!

Classic Beethoven music fills Daisy ears from the piano player on the far left corner as chattering men in black suits and women in elegant gowns buzz about the room in socially acceptable laughter, conversing throughout the loft and out by the terrace with the Eiffel Tower as the evening backdrop with distant red glimmers of fireworks to boot. All while the waiters in tuxedos hold out silver trays with champagne, walking about like choreographed dancers to the piano music, serving the guests.

It was infuriating, purely infuriating. He was such a pompous, arrogant, self-entitled, narcissistic fornicator that the mere idea of him portraying himself like something other than the depraved lying, carnal pleasure wanting, immediate gratification man-whore that he was along with all the other people thumping below in the club downstairs was beyond nauseating….


Daisy brown eyes shoot to the waiter holding the silver tray of broiled prawns’ sautéed in butter with parsley snips as garnish.

Daisy simply closes her eyes and clenches her jaw in frustration.

He knew she was there, she thought to herself. They were cooked to perfection, the aroma was inviting and he knew exactly how she liked them, but it wasn’t complete, they had to be served with a glass of…
“Mademoiselle?” Daisy looks to her right, seeing another waiter with a glass bottle, “Glass of Chateu Latur?”

That was it. The prawns were one, but the $800 dollar bottle of her favorite champagne caused Daisy to nearly hunch over like a woodland creature as a growl of frustration emanates from her.


“DON’T CALL ME…” Daisy shouts, immediately raising her gun over her head, shooting into the ceiling, getting everyone’s attention as they look at her, “EVERYONE!” she screams as chunk of plaster falls to the floor beside her as her eyes narrow at the crowd, “GET OUT!”

The screams ensue, the trays drop, glass shatters, and footsteps clamor together like a stampead of cows searching for escape. Daisy stands by the elevator, glaring at everyone scatter down the other hallways, emptying the loft within moments, only leaving the red balloon floating in the apartment. Hearing a door somewhere close as no one is left inside, Daisy keeps her eyes fixed to the long white couch facing in the terrace door with one man still seated there.

Raising her gun to his head, she stalks towards him, seeing him unperturbed by her presence. His arms still stretched out over the couch with a glass of champagne in his hand, the white mask still over his face, Daisy slowly approaches him from behind until she reaches the side of the couch with the cautiousness of a cat, her eyes fixed on him until they narrow at the sight of his mask covered face.

“Fantomex.” Daisy growls.

Wearing a white mask that only reveals his blue eyes and a pair of white boxer shorts and white tube socks, Fantomex turns to her, his smile still evident under the white mask.

“Daisy, so glad to see you.” He says, raising up his champagne glass, “Didn’t think you’d make it on time.”

Daisy clenches her jaw, “Shut up you son of %^&*!” she snaps, “GET UP!”

“I’m sorry my dear but you know how my parties go…” he says aloofly, rolling up his mask just over his mouth as he sips from his glass, “…mmm that’s good, yes I get quite exhausted after all my…” he points point behind her.

Daisy takes a step back from him and glances over her shoulder, to his dark bedroom and sees a person under his white sheets.


Closing her eyes, trying to erase what she sees, Daisy turns her attention back to Fantomex, her eyes glassy with tears, “I really hate you.”

Fantomex slowly puts down the champagne glass, “You hate yourself.” He corrects.

“What?” She says in disbelief.

“You heard me my little Dai…”

“DON’T!” Daisy shouts, cutting him off but closes her eyes, tensing up as she feels herself about to lose her temper and opens her eyes again, affirmed to do this right, “Get your things…” she states firmly,”….we have a job.”

Daisy can still see the Frenchmen raise his eyebrow under his white mask, “A job? With the team? I quit, remember? So did you if I recoll…”

“Well I’m back.”


“Don’t patronize me, I hate it when you do patronize me.”

“I mean it. You love your job and you’re very good at it. Its wonderful seeing you work.”

“Sometimes I wish I was deaf and wore a hearing aid so I wouldn’t have to hear you love the sound of your own voice so much.”

Fantomex smiles and stands up from his seat, watching Daisy still point his gun to his head, “Oh I missed you Daisy. I really did. I always felt, connected with you.”

“Like you felt connect with the whores in the bed back there?”

“That’s not…” Fantomex sighs, “…I don’t…its not the same. Its never the same. I’ve missed you.”

“An I’ve missed not having shot you.”

“You and lots of other people.” Fantomex smiles, watching Daisy still remain motionless with her gun raised to his head, “Is this why you’re here like this? I watch you. Tore through security more brutally I think because they knew me. You know the medical bills you just costed me…”

“Rob some rich widow’s house, I’m sure it’ll cover it.”

“Already did.” Fantomex smiles, “Had to think ahead about what you’d do but I didn’t see this coming though.”

“What? Being 30 years old and lonely?”

“Thirty-four actually, but no. Just, seeing you again, standing there in my loft, with a gun to my head and having not pulled the trigger.”

“I’m considering if its worth all the paper-work and the explanations I’ll have to give Fury versus getting you killed in the field and consider it service to humanity.” Daisy snaps.

Fantomex lets out a short chuckle before clearing his throat, “So dark…” he says, stepping over the table, “…I wonder where my dove lovely charm went to.”

“It went on temporary leave.” Daisy says, aiming the gun to his head, “Something about a dirt-bag toying with her heart, keeping secrets, oh and sleeping with a terrorist that he then shot in front of her.”

“Guess that’s still the issue, huh?”

“It will always be the issue Fantomex.” Daisy sharply replies, “The charming Frenchmen, who can’t decide if he’s a good guy playing the bad guy or the bad guy acting like a good guy. I say it’s the latter.”

“It’s not like that Daisy.” Fantomex says seriously.

“Oh really!?.” Daisy scoffs, “Well I guess til you make up your mind it’s no wonder why Nick Fury call you to work, again.”

“Good ol’ Nick.” Fantomex huffs before turning the night cityscape view of Paris, “You ever wonder why he calls me so much but needs you on this ‘team’?”

“Because if you get shot you won’t come cryin’ n’ moanin’ like Tony Stark to his P.R. rep about another released sex tape?”

“In part yes…” Fantomex nods, “…but he knows I do the job that needs getting done. Pulling the trigger, I’m there, for you”
“I can do just fine without you.”

“Then why haven’t you been sleeping?”

“Have you been spying on me?” Daisy asks, her voice gripped with anger.

“I know I’m…complicated…but meant it when I told you that I lov-“

“I SWEAR if you finish that sentence Pierre I’m shooting you in the crotch and I’m not saying sorry.” Daisy growls, lowering her aim to his crotch.

Letting out a sigh, Fantomex nods, raising his hands, “Okay, I’ll stop.”

“JUST…just…” Daisy grinds her teeth, glaring at Fantomex with his hands over head in his white boxer shorts, “…shut up.” she mumbles, lowering her head as a rush of emotions come to her face.

“I’m sorry my little dove.”

Daisy closes her eyes as he face reddens.

“I’m sorry that I hurt you Daisy. But if, in some small way, this can be a consolation, Madame Viper, she just a job, she didn’t mean anything.”

Letting out a laugh, Daisy shakes her head as her eyes get glassy with tears, “Yeah Pierre…” she says, raising her pink eyes to him, “…that makes it all better.”

The growling silence and the slight emotional break in Daisy’s firm face causes Fantomex to gulp as he sees a tear roll down her firm cheek; watching Daisy lower her gun and simply stare at him, Fantomex turns away, allowing Daisy to wipe her tears as she sniffles.

“So where’s the job?” Fantomex asks.

“Sydney.” Daisy replies, letting out a sigh before looking out to the view of the Eiffel Tower, “It’s in Sydney.”

“So what do we have, Tycoon? Evil Organization? A female clown with a mallet containing a bomb?” Fantomex asks but watches Daisy toss over a small touchscreen device to his couch.

Picking it up, Fantomex turns it on but drops it to the table and looks at Daisy walking away from him.

“Be at the Charles De Gaulle Airport tomorrow at 0900.” says Daisy, walking away from Fantomex who remains speechless, “We have plane in the Hanger, Wade and Songbird will meet us in Sydney.”

“I’m not going.” Fantomex snaps, “I’m not doing this. This is too personal.”

“Thunderbolts don’t do Personal, you of all people should know that Pierre.” Daisy snappily replies while standing in front of the elevator before turning to Fantomex standing in front of the open terrace doors, “Besides, It should be simple for you. It’s just a job right? Means nothing.”

Fantomex clenches his jaw, watching Daisy step into the elevator as the door closes behind her.

Left alone in the loft, Fantomex looks down at the touchscreen device, seeing a blond woman’s picture on the screen. Letting out a sigh, Fantomex sits down next to the device and rubs his eyes, “Yeah, just a job.”

So you killed’em?



Shaking her head, Daisy turns away from the small window and looks at Nick Fury seated across from her in the luxurious leather seat, “You didn’t KILL him did you?”

Daisy Johnson folds her leg over the other while unfastening the buttons of her pea-coat, “No I didn’t.”

“Good.” Nick Fury says, sitting back in his seat and looking out the small window of their plane, “You should have let me talk to him.”

“I handled it.” Daisy retorts.

“Don’t get defensive.” Nick cautions.

“I’m not defensive.” Daisy insists glaring at him as Nick raises his eyebrow at her, “I did my job end of story.” she states firmly, “Why do you always, make these things feel like its about trust?”

“This is about trust.” Nick replies, “You said you’d go get him, you said you weren’t motivated by revenge or rage.”

“I am motivated by my duty, which is voluntary I might add.”

Nick smirks and leans back in his seat, folding his arms as he looks at Daisy Johnson cutting him a steely stare, “No, no I-I think , in hindsight, that pulling you off that island wasn’t so hard because I think you're so blinded by inconsolable rage against this guy that you don't care who you hurt or use.”

“That bullcrap and you don’t it.”

“Fine then I’m wrong.” Nick smirks, turning his attention to the window, “Just be careful out there, because when you can't tell your friends from your enemies, it's time to walk away from all this.”

Daisy clenches her jaw, turning away from Nick as he looks at her and shakes his head with a smirk. Hearing the engine turbines humming, Nick turns his attention to the aircraft door as Phil Coulson in his black suit nods at him, “I’ll get us ready for take off.”

“Not yet.” Nick replies, “We have one more.”

Daisy sighs and looks at her watch aggravated, “If he’s not here now he’s not coming.” She retorts.


Daisy looks up at Fantomex dressed in his white coat with black markings at its edges while wearing a white body suit, white mask and holding a metal suitcase in hand.

Nick raises his eyebrow at him, “I miss the good ol’ days when black was the only color.”

“You envy.” Fantomex replies, stepping side and closing the door behind him.

Daisy looks up at Fantomex keep his blue eyes focused on Nick and then to the seats behind him, “Private jet? You’re payroll open up for us this time Nick?”

Fury smirks, “Yeah, all for you and for what you have to do.”

“Well its not just me you know.” Fantomex replies, taking off his gloves but glances over to Daisy in her seat, staring out the window, “It’s all of us, this a team effort.” He says, but sees Daisy not so much as even look at him.

“You all ready?”

Fantomex looks over at Agent Coulson sticking his head out from the cockpit, “Hey uh, I’m about to take off so you mind strapping in? Gonna be a bit of a bumpy ride.”

Fantomex nods, sitting down in the luxury seat as he looks over to Daisy who cuts him a brief glare before putting a sleeping mask over her eyes.

“Yes indeed it is.” Fantomex mumbles.

To be continued…..

Joined: 21 Dec 2013, 01:44

23 Dec 2014, 15:44 #19

wow Spidey, it's great to see you again at the comp.!

Joined: 26 Nov 2007, 16:50

23 Dec 2014, 15:50 #20

thanks ewkada! I hope its to everyone's liking.

Joined: 21 Dec 2013, 01:44

23 Dec 2014, 16:01 #21

GreenScar: you must be very different from me because you cause me think a lot about the world described in your stories in a different way you do,

like the matter of fire:

fire was never an attribute of a hellish world to me, fire means energy. But because my dad died due to fire, fire actually means to me, that something may be lost. I know, I know, it is my very personal experience.

and again the sense of the loss comes in line with your story, where you developed fire as hell's companion and Skaar losing his home-planet and his mother.

actually that difference that leads to similar conclusions makes me enjoy your world very much

Joined: 21 Dec 2013, 01:44

24 Dec 2014, 01:47 #22

@ BT: Mace Fury, great introduction, I really like Nick, this is why I was shocked when I saw him dead in the Winter Soldier. And I welcomed his “resurrection” very much then. BT, please, don’t kill him in your story for good.

Joined: 03 Oct 2013, 20:56

24 Dec 2014, 09:25 #23

ewkada @ Dec 23 2014, 07:47 PM wrote: @ BT: Mace Fury, great introduction, I really like Nick, this is why I was shocked when I saw him dead in the Winter Soldier. And I welcomed his “resurrection” very much then. BT, please, don’t kill him in your story for good.
I don't plan on killing him. My Mace Fury character is very much based on Samuel L Jackson's Nick Fury and Mace Windu characters.

Joined: 27 Nov 2007, 17:07

25 Dec 2014, 11:15 #24

Super entry, SS!

Merry Christmas to all who celebrate.

Joined: 03 Oct 2013, 20:56

28 Dec 2014, 02:34 #25

Miles_Warren @ Dec 1 2014, 01:35 PM wrote: Welcome to the December writing competition  :guitar:  Please read the rules before entering ... opic=11460

Some important info for this month:

1) Entrants have until December 27th 4pm EST to submit an entry for the competition

2) Voting will then open for entrants before closing on December 29th 4pm EST

3) Voting for non-entrants will then open before closing on December 30th 4pm EST

Best of luck to all entrants

It looks like the time for submissions for this month's contest has ended and entrant voting has begun. I'm thinking Miles might be busy, so my recommendation is to include Feral Female in the PM, just in case Miles can't respond.

These are the entries that are in this month's contest:

1. The Balance of Power -Chapter Seven: Emotions and Revelations - GreenScar1990
2. Rosie - Ewkada
3. Marvel Star Wars: Arsenal - Chapter Eight - Big Thunder
4. The Outstanding Thunderbolts - Mission File 102, Summary 1 - silverspidey4ever