11/21/2023 02:32 PM  Righteous Lad™ Annual #1 Righteous Lad Annual #1What was meant to be his day off from Civil Duty was quickly changing and being imposed upon by a stalking hostile. A returning threat, no less.  Tyson intends to attend the premiere release of a new DC film at his local cinema theater, but one of the fairest warnings he has ever received from an associate comes back to chop down on him with canines of a harsh reality -- the necessary need to be incognito.  The young man does nothing to really differentiate Righteous Lad from Tyson Luthur - nothing besides a change of attire and perhaps a minor tweak in his vocabulary. No hoods, no glasses, hair adjustment, or even color eye contacts. Thus, it's all too easy for Malware to track him down. With his extraterrestrial high-end tech makeup, it takes only accessing as many cameras as he can to find a match for the hero who thwarted his plan back when he first came to Earth.   Now here they were. Tyson, none the wiser, sits among others within a packed room while the villain observes from his place levitating overhead, concealed by his transparent camouflage.  Unaware of Earth customs, the alien android refrains for the time being. The movie is around ten or so minutes in, which is time spent alternating his mechanical eyes between the big screen and his target, delaying his endeavor only to study the movie and his adversary's interest in it. Soon enough, an assumption clicks within the machine's mind.    { "A public programming facility for humans... This is likely where those like him undergo a conditioning process to embody the virtues of those shown in this presentation." } is the thought that crosses the android's mind before he finally makes his move. Just as Tyson brings another handful of popcorn to his parting lips, half a dozen steel tendrils descend upon him swiftly and latch on. They wrap around his neck, arms, legs, and torso before lifting him from his seat.   "What the--!?"  DHOOM! KRASH! CRRRSSSH! KROOOM! Left wall, right wall, ceiling, and down to the floor - fortunately without harming a pedestrian - Tyson finds himself being slammed around before those tendrils squeeze as tight as they can around him while simultaneously lifting his body. More swept up within a state of confusion than actually affected by any level of pain, he tries to gather his wits in the midst of the assault. Others within the theater scatter in panic, rushing out to safety.   "YOU again!?" The Chicagoan hero practically exclaims with a look of disgust and shock on his face once he comes face to face with his attacker.   "So you do remember me... Good.  I left this planet last time with a poor grasp of what its inhabitants were capable of -- what abnormal lifeforms lay in the river of malleable flesh that runs predominantly through it. But I come, better prepared, to eliminate you now before I reinstall my control over the masses of this watery planet." Malware informs confidently.   "Not going to happen. I wasn't going to let you have your way seven years ago, and I'm not... Going... To.. Start NOW!" A brief pacing in speech as Tyson begins fighting against his restraints, inevitably flexing enough to break free with his unearthly strength - something Malware may not have gotten to examine as precisely as he thought. As scraps of metal plummet to the seats and floor, Tyson lunges at the android with a right hook - a strike Malware evades by leaning back while floating in retreat. The hero persists, closing in while attempting to land heavy blows. Perhaps telegraphing too much, his adversary weaves out of the way of every last one of them with minimum effort - and on the 6th punch, Malware uses Righteous Lad​'s own momentum against him. Tossing the male by the forearm and sending him crashing through several walls and soaring outside.   "Perhaps I was a bit too hasty... Clearly, I didn't make enough adjustments. However, that can easily be compensated." Malware muses to himself as the fragments of himself he lost a moment ago suddenly shift to monochrome liquid and rise to rejoin his body. His attention then shifts toward the enormous screen once more, and his eyes begin to glow. A light projection emits from his sockets and creates a rift in the media before him, his intent being to bring villains from the movie out and into the real world.   His plan, Malware's scheme, is promptly compromised when Righteous Lad returns. The wrist cuff on the hero's right hand releases nanotechnology that materializes his trademark suit upon his person as he rushes the android down, tackling him through that very same rift, only to come out of an identical movie screen elsewhere. The two roughly land in the middle of a drive-in movie parking lot, much to the shock of the attendees, where their fight continues. It doesn't take long at all for eyes to redirect to the young man in black & green and the android - an exoskeleton being wearing a hooded white cloak.    KROOOOM!!   The sound of Malware's metal tendrils lashing out all at once to smash Righteous Lad into the ground, but only managing to strike the pavement is all it takes for the civilians around to panic and flee for their lives.  After jumping back a short distance out of the way of the attack, the hero lunges forward to grip one of those snake-like limbs and swings. Using all the might he can muster within a shallow windup to throw the android skyward like a missile. The latter ascends involuntarily and away from the innocent bystanders - though manages to use his adaptive capability to briefly create small thrusters on the palms of his hands, his calves, and back to deplete all of his momentum and bring himself to a halt. When he does, there's just a short moment of 1.5 seconds before Righteous Lad catches up and collides into his midsection with a flying tackle, taking him further up beyond the clouds. Malware reacts in time to use both of his arms and tendrils to pry the hero off him before entering the abyss of space, resulting in the hero flipping yards away. Quick to take back control of his balance, Righteous Lad rushes in yet again and his adversary does the same. With keen eyes, Malware is able to react and maneuver his body in a way to where leaning his head at an angle results in Righteous Lad's punch missing completely while his own fist successfully meets with flesh and sends the other male soaring away at breakneck speed. The android perseus and closes in within 3.7 seconds. He grips the hero's forearm with the intent of tossing him down like a meteor. Tyson thwarts the attempt by gaining a grip of his own and spinning his body to steal the momentum and toss the android downward instead.   Malware plummets and pierces through the clouds in an instant, quickly coming upon a crash landing. The android just barely manages to stop his fall in time with the tip of his foot a mere inch from meeting the barren ground below. He looks up afterwards and in time to see the hero coming swiftly dropping above his head.   TOOOOOOOOOMMM!!!   Tyson's attempt of stomping the android into the ground with unimaginable force only manages to result in him crouching within a deep crater. The mass of dust settles from the impact and he sees that his target is floating at a distance. The two silently stare one another down for a moment, each likely assessing the best tactic to reclaim the advantage in the next clash. Eventually, Malware readies his tendrils of steel while imbuing them with high voltage electricity - at the same time, Righteous Lad's emerald green eyes begin to shift to a shade of gold that steadily grows in light and heat that rivals the sun's blazing warmth. Just as the two are about to go on the assault again, a sudden explosive shockwave interrupts their bout and sends an aggressive wind blowing by. A disturbance that comes from the city that stands no more than 6 miles away from where they are. What follows next is a powerful feral roar strong enough to cause Tyson to grimace in pain and clamp his hands over his ears, and draw the androids immediate attention to analyze the source throw various visual adjustments including but not limited to scoping vision, infrared vision, and x-ray lenses that allow him to peer through buildings.   "A peculiar specimen…" Malware comments, then briefly shifts his sights toward Righteous Lad again. The latter is opening his eyes again and eventually returning his stare. "...Perhaps next time. For now, an opportunity has made itself known."    "What?" The remark from the android draws an expression of confusion across the young man's face. In the next moment, his adversary suddenly clashes the tips of his tendrils to discharge a flashbang that plays hell on Righteous Lad's senses and causes the hero to fall to a knee. It's then Malware suddenly takes off at high speed and leaves the other alone. "Hnnnngh! Jesu–uh-! Jeeze… What was THAT ?" He regains his wits and eases back up while holding a corner of his cranium. He takes a moment to look around for any trace of the android, eventually giving up and ascending skyward to fly his way back to the city. He misses it, but he passes a billboard with the words 'Welcome To Metropolis City'.    The hero wanders aimlessly above the town, but his eyes and ears open for anything concerning. That very thing reveals itself to be a sudden eruption of sound that resembles the crackle of lightning. He hurries over toward the source just in time to metal tentacles dragging what appears to be some sort of imposing monstrosity that looks familiar in a way. Gray skin, spiky bones protruding from his flesh all all over, the physique of a man-beast.  Tyson touches down upon the street, but by then that rift is gone without a trace.  "What was that Doomsday…?" He questions while arching a brow. Then a realization dawns on him and horror seeps in. "Did he just drag DOOMSDAY away!?"   "Dooms… Day? That's what its name is?" A voice from behind the young man questions, snagging his attention. He turns and finds himself looking upon none other than the Last Son of Krypton, Superman. Adorn by his New 52 redesign as blood trickles down the side of his face.   "Superman!? Dude, no way!" Tyson exclaims with a bright smile as he approaches the taller male. "It's… YOU. It's really you!!" He adds, though the urgency of the moment reminds him that this isn't really time for this when he notices the man taking a moment to wipe the blood from his brow. "...Are you okay, Kal-EL?" He asks softly and with concern at the forefront of his expression. The question earns him a skeptical frown from the Man of Steel.   "I'm fine, but… how do you know that name? That's not public information." The kryptonian responds. "Just who exactly are you?" As he asks that question, his companions - members of the Justice League - arrive on the scene. The Flash, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, Cyborg, Green Lantern Hal Jordan, and Batman.  The sight of them is enough to make him both nervous and awestruck.    "Oh man… This is… This is so crazy.." Tyson murmurs under his breath, staring like a deer in headlights.   "Superman, what happened? Where did that thing go?" Batman questions.   "Some sort of metal man–.. An android, I think… suddenly came and took it away via some sort of portal he made from thin air." Clark answers.   "I see." The Dark Crusader briefly scowls in thought before looking the stranger over. "Is this a friend of yours?"   "No, never met him before. But I'm there with you… I'd like to know who he is, too." Superman responds. "Got a name?"   "Oh, me? I-I'm Righ- Ahem! I'm Righteous Lad! But… I'm not from this world. I technically shouldn't be here. This is all Malware's doing."   "Malware?" Wonder Woman questions.   "The android Superman spoke of. He's a dangerous being capable of manipulating media on a whim, and that's just one aspect of what he's able to do. If Doomsday caught his attention, then that could only mean he's planning on weaponizing him somehow."   "Manipulating media? Like, TV shows and stuff?" Hal Jordan asks.   "Tell us EVERYTHING." Batman demands right after. template credit. 0 Comments  Report Post

10/08/2023 06:55 PM  Righteous Lad™ #7 Righteous Lad #7"Uuuugh…" Righteous Lad groans as his consciousness returns to him, eventually easing his way into sitting up as he holds the side of his head. "He's awake!" A familiar feminine voice announces, drawing the attention of the hero. Turning his head, it's there Tyson sees Alexecute lowering to kneel beside him on the grass beneath him. "Hey, you okay, boss?" She asks while placing a hand atop of his shoulder. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little dizzy. What happened?" He asks.   "I'M what happened." Hurleon reminds him, giving a cheeky grin as he leans against a nearby tree with his arms folded. Surely enough, flashes of their fight come rushing to the forefront of his thoughts.  "Oh yeah… At some point, I couldn't tell what was happening anymore." He admits, sighing while leaning back on his hands afterwards. "Where are we, anyway?"   "A field near the Southwest mall. I couldn't really bring you back to HQ because of those guys." Alexecute answers, motioning toward the bunch behind her with a tilt of her head. It's then someone else steps forward to stand beside the heroine and tower over the sitting male. The blonde from before. "My apologies– Righteous Lad, was it? I know our sudden and admittedly brazen visit hasn't been one of the friendliest, but I assure you that I'm here for a good reason. Will you lend me your ear and spare some time?" The male requests just before extending a hand in offer. With little delay, Righteous Lad reaches to accept the help and rises to stand on his feet. His companion, Alexecute, also stands. "Sure. Asclepius, was it? I don't understand what's going on, so I'm all for hearing an explanation and sorting things out peacefully." Righteous Lad responds.    "Yes, that is my name. But before we resume, would you be willing to tell me your real name?" The blonde inquires, earning a skeptical look from the hero. "My real name…? Like government name?"   "Your name at birth. Your TRUE name." The blonde specifies, causing a brief state of surprise to overtake the other' s face.    "It's… Konnence." Tyson answers reluctantly.   "Oh? I see. Were you told the meaning of it, by any chance?" Asclepius prods further.   "Yeah. Yeah, I was… My birth mother gave me  that name and told me it means He Who Shines With Warm Radiance In The Coldness of Hel." He obliges. The blonde blinks curiously and even more of his doubt fades from his thoughts.   "Wait, your real name is Konnence? And THAT'S what it means?" Alexecute questions while arching a brow and crossing her arms. "What does that even imply? Like… you're the warmest thing from a super hot place like Hell?" The question draws a visibly uncomfortable look onto Tyson's face.   "No, no… HEL as in H.E.L. Not H. E. Double hockey sticks. She says it's the coldest place within the nine realms. Even so, that's still not too much better. HEL is not only my birth mother's name, but it's where bad people go to suffer in the afterlife. It's a place that's also called Niflheim. I don't fully know if she was referring to herself or Niflheim, though." Tyson elaborates.   "So my suspicion may very well be correct, then. Perhaps… Tell me, what is the Olympian Sun God, Apollo,  to you?" Asclepius chimes in to question. Yet again, a question that draws a look of discomfort upon Righteous Lad's face.   "He's… he's…" The hero struggles to find his words. He knows the answer, but there's complications that make him hesitant to be upfront. The painful contrast of lying also nags at him. "It's not important. I'm just a guy who grew up in America and he's from somewhere far away. There's nothing else that needs to be said about it." He finally answers.   "I know you're his offspring." Asclepius states with a solemn stare and firm tone. Righteous Lad, Tyson himself, blinks and freezes with a sense of horror creeping into his skin.   "W-what? Who told you such a thing like tha–"    "I was there observing you two on the day you came to Mount Olympus, Konnence." The blonde interrupts sharply. "Granted, I didn't pick up much, but I had noticed my usually calm and collected father was unusually hostile when talking to you. I had no idea what could have caused such a reaction from him, but I didn't pester him about it. Even so, a part of me wanted to know the truth. That feeling had gone ignored and was buried away up until the last time the Aessir Gods visited Olympus. I noticed a peculiar but admittedly brief interaction between him and a woman wearing black and jade. Their body language gave the implication that there was a bit of history between them. Under twenty-five years and this being the only the second time Odin and his kin came to our home. Odd, no? How old are you now?"    "...I'm twenty-three." Righteous Lad answers after a brief pause.   "Exactly the number of years ago the Aessir Gods first came to Mount Olympus." Asclepius affirms.   "Ha! So he really is a bastard child." Hurleon comments crudely.   "Look, it doesn't really matter what I am. I'm here and he's there. We're from two completely different parts of the world and we've been getting along just fine. You're only going to make problems by poking around like this." Tyson argues.   "There are many things to fear in this life, but the truth SHOULDN'T be one of them. Nor can I ignore how my soul aches to have certainty in this ordeal. It MUST be uncovered. It MUST be brought to light. My mother and her offspring deserve that much." Asclepius presses further.   "And then what? Watch your family fall apart?"   "We will adapt as needed under the freedom of truth and clarity. Respect us enough to grant us that chance, Konnence."   "And I'm just supposed to live free of guilt afterwards? You're asking me to instigate and possibly dismantle a family household…" Tyson informs his half brother.   "A household that you have every right to be a part of and speak upon. We cannot allow father's misdeed to go unchecked. He violated his sacred bond with my mother. Does she not deserve to know and the chance to decide on how she comes to terms with it? Come with me and let's embrace this endeavor together, brother." Asclepius stands firm in his intent as he presents his proposal and offers a hand to Tyson. The latter internally debates with himself over the offer. While he does feel this man, whom he's only now learned is his older brother, makes very compelling arguments - a part of him dreads going out of his way to possibly ruin someone's life in any way.    "...Are you sure about this? There's no telling what could happen if we do this." Tyson questions to make certain that this is indeed what the other wants.   "I am sure as I possibly can be. I have no reservations about doing this." The blonde confidently assures.   "Okay. I'll go with you, then." And with those words, Tyson extends a hand of his own to shake his brother's waiting one. Afterwards, his attention shifts toward Alexecute. "I'll be back soon. Let everyone know that everything is fine now."   "Are you sure about this, boss?" The teen questions while shooting him a wary stare.   "As sure as I can be, I guess. It'll be fine, though. We'll be back to doing the usual tomorrow." Tyson responds.   "Then let us be on our way and not waste any more time. The day will not stay with us for eternity." Asclepius announces and turns where he stands. He goes on to pluck out what seems to be a figurine of a platform. A stone ring with a railing that nearly forms a complete circle. He walks forward to place at least 40 feet of distance between himself and the others before setting it down upon the ground. Afterwards, he retreats back to his original place and speaks the words: "To Mount Olympus shall you return me. So says the son of Apollo and Kyrene." At his demand, the object he left on the ground is abruptly struck with lightning from the clear blue skies. After the flash of blinding light passes, the small model is massive in comparison to its former size. The others, including Hurleon, approach to step up onto the stone platform that bears the sign of Zues on its surface. "This'll be the fastest method back to Mount Olympus. Let's be on our way, brother." The blonde beckons before joining the others.   "Magic… He knows magic. Uhh. Guess… guess I'll see you tomorrow?" Tyson tells Alexecute in the form of a rhetorical question as he begins walking backwards while giving his 'goodbye'.   "Yeah, for sure. I hope. Just be careful, okay?" She bids him goodbye and waves him off. He waves back before turning around completely and hustles his way over to the platform. Nearly as soon as he passes through the opening, a near completely transparent silver dome takes shape around the ring. In the next moment, the platform begins to rise into the sky and fly off into the distance. template credit. 0 Comments  Report Post

10/08/2023 06:52 PM  Righteous Lad™ #6 Righteous Lad #6T H A C K ! Righteous Lad just barely raises his arms within a tight X-formation to block a strong blow from the hostile stranger who came looking for him - a hit that sends him soaring back for miles, crashing through a playground set before he manages to maneuver into a rolling backflip and begins skidding along concrete and grass. His right hand trying its best to get a grip and slow himself into a complete stop, eventually succeeding when he nears the sidewalk behind him. "This guy is strong…" The hero utters under his breath with a soft look of disbelief on his face. Just as he rises to stand at his full height again, he spots his adversary approaching. Advancing in a mad dash beyond any human or animal capability and kicking up thick clouds of dust in his wake.  "Tch! I can't let him keep me on the defensive!" And with those words and burning determination, Tyson abruptly kicks into a sprint of his own. Faster and within a blur that just couldn't be kept up with. The two meet at a center point, where Tyson claims the advantage and quickest strike - a lunging knee to the stomach that knocks the wind out of the other, who nearly goes limp. The only thing keeping the snow-white haired male from flying back is Tyson's sturdy grip on his shoulders. Releasing, his adversary winds up stumbling backwards while holding his midsection, and it's during that moment that Tyson moves forward via gliding with flight, allowing the soles of his boots to slide along solid ground again as he closes off the remaining distance with an uppercut. The other's chin shoots skyward upon impact of a thunderous DHOOOM! Not a strike he puts all of his effort into, but he's quick to deliver several more. T H M P! A left hook to the stomach. T H W A C K! A right right hook to the jaw.    Just as he's preparing to throw his next punch, he catches sight of his peculiar opponent wearing a teeth-bearing grin despite having his head jerked by a solid blow.  [ He's.. He's smiling? Am I holding back too much? ] The hero ponders to himself and hesitates for a split second. From merely tossing another halfhearted punch, he shifts to the intent of hitting the other young man with all of his might. A punch so strong, it cuts right through the air and leaves shreds of blurry lines in its trail. K R O O O O O M ! ! ! The contact causes the ground beneath their feet to fracture and crumble with the threat of caving into a 4 meter radius crater, the Shockwave travels far enough to blow paper whisking away into the wind, trash cans to fall over, windows of cars within a mile of the area to shatter instantly, and even send hats flying off people's heads.    However, the other doesn't budge an inch. Not only does he not even move a single step, but he's also caught the hero's fist within the palm of his hand. A sight that makes Tyson stare as if the very unthinkable just took place before his very eyes. "I put… NNNGH! I put everything behind that one!" Righteous Lad comments while attempting to pull his hand away. His efforts are to no avail.  "Hah-heheheh… That was your best shot, huh?" The other asks rhetorically while arching a brow in utter amusement. "Not even the black sheep of Apollo's kin has what it takes to challenge my strength. Though, that's not necessarily your fault… No, it's simply the way of life. You're either born weak or born blessed to be one of the strongest!" The male continues, suddenly applying a tighter grip that makes the hero grit his teeth in discomfort. "So, listen well, weakling. I am the son of Hercules, the strongest God to ever walk Mount Olympus. My name is Hurleon, the second strongest man to ever live and the greatest to ever bestow his undeniable presence to the world!!!" The prideful young man exclaims with excessive vigor as he squeezes even harder around Righteous Lad's hand.    "Aegh!?" That discomfort was genuinely beginning to hurt more than Tyson is willing to put up with. In an attempt to get loose, he takes a swing with his free hand, aiming for Hurleon's face. However, that fist too is caught in the very same fashion. His adversary applies more pressure and makes the hero take a reluctant knee while quaking behind struggling. [This guy is too freakin' strong!] Righteous Lad comments within his own thoughts. In the next moment, unable to do anything about it, Hurleon suddenly yanks him forward and seamlessly releases his hands finally, resulting in Tyson stumbling forward until his shoulder makes contact with the other's middle.  "Prepare yourself, son of Apollo!" Without more than a second of delay, the absurdly strong foe wraps and locks his arms around Tyson's waist, effortlessly lifts up into a suspending sitting position, and delivers a devastating powerbomb that violently shakes the ground. Quaking that could be felt for who knows how many miles around, and not only that, but the ground gives out into a massive crater seven feet deep and 24 meters in radius. There's barely anything left of the park after that destructive slam.   Nearby, within a 24 story tall hotel, a certain blonde stirs awake from the commotion. Yawning big and loud, she stretches her arms above her head while arching her back. "What's all that noise…?" She asks of no one in particular, presently lying atop of the counter in the kitchen of the private suite she snuck into. She rolls over to slip off and stand on her feet, knocking over several empty bottles of wine she downed last night. She didn't mind the loud cluttering too much, and the corpse she left in the master bedroom sure as heck couldn't mind, either. The hitwoman uses a gloved hand to wipe the sleepiness from her eyes as she travels toward the nearest window, military boots thumping along the wooden floor as she lazily saunters onward. The platinum blonde soon peels back the curtains, lifts the window, and leans out to take a look. Turning to her left first, seeing nothing of interest, then to her right, where she sees two beings in the distance within a massive uneven ground of dirt. Fighting, no less. She squints, wondering if they were truly the source behind all the ruckus. "What in blue milly hills is going on over there?" Hardy utters as the breeze coming in stir her thigh-length Dutch braids just enough to cause them to sway a bit.   Back at the fight between the two men, Hurleon follows up a soccer kick after slamming the hero down into an awkward position of bending in half, sending him violently slamming into the side of a parked van.  "Ta'HUAK!" Tyson grunts when his back meets the vehicle, then ends up sitting within a forward leaning slouch. [No way this guy is this strong… I.. I actually felt those. He actually hurt me…] Tyson observes within his own mind before looking up, seeing beyond the raven tufts of hair hanging in his face that the male was approaching in a casual fashion.  [But I can't give up now… I have to keep fighting and beat him somehow.] Righteous Lad reasons with himself and begins climbing back up onto his feet. "So you're still well off enough to keep going, then?" Hurleon smugly questions upon seeing the hero rise again. Coming to stop seven feet away, tilting his head back snobbishly as he grins. "Ready when you are." A firm answer, along with a scowl of determination, is given from the hero. Hurleon's lips flat line stoically and he lowers his before his brows adopt a frown of their own. "Then show me your worth!" Roaring those words, the two then lunge at one another. However, Righteous Lad allows the other to take priority. When the other takes a swing, he sways out of the path of the incoming fist with a lean to the side. Nearly just as he does, he grabs onto the male's forearm, carries him upward a dozen feet, and transitions into spinning. Tyson builds and builds on his speed until a whirlwind - no, until a thin tornado takes shape around him before he tosses his foe away like a rocket taking off for the stars. Sending Hurleon screaming into the distance.  [Take. Him. Down!!!] Tyson barks at himself within his own mind. Hands clenching into tight fists, the hero takes off in the next second at light speed while leaving behind a sonic boom. He catches up with his adversary with ease and delivers a swift, yet powerful blow that abruptly shifts Hurleon's momentum into a downward fall. Taking off with another sonic boom, Righteous Lad swoops down to strike with a just as powerful hook that sends the other soaring horizontal now. Another burst of speed and the hero delivers another punch, but this time from the opposite side.  KROOOM! KROOOM! KROOOM! Several more heavy hits ping-pong the flightless being within the air. Tyson decides to end his assault with his strongest attack yet. A double hand hammer strike that clears away the clouds upon that explosive impact and gives his adversary a taste of what it's like to move at light speed. Straight for the sandy beach below. D H O O O O O O O M ! ! ! A massive mushroom-shape sand cloud rises up from below and reaches beyond the altitude Righteous Lad hovers at. A look of concern bleeds into his scowling features as he hopes he didn't go overboard. He couldn't see much past the rainfall of sand, but his answer comes in the form of liquid tendrils snapping up to wrap around his ankles and drag him down until he's slamming onto the sandy surface below, as well. While waving descending sand out of his face, Righteous Lad sits up and soon gets a visual of what did such a thing to him. Standing ten feet away is none other than Hurleon, cracking his knuckles one set after the other while a dozen tendrils from the very ocean itself sway in anticipation behind him. "You've got to be kidding me…" Righteous Lad utters under his breath.   "That was quite the display you put on. You've got more fight in you than I thought! But now we do this back on the ground… I won't fall for that again!" Hurleon declares before lunging forward to drop a ground pounding punch atop of the hero. Tyson rolls out of the way moments before the other lands, and gets back on his feet. Both men refuse to allow the other to turn the momentum in their and charge each down for a slug fest. The first from both results in their fists colliding with a powerful shockwave, then the two take turns throwing more fists. The second from Tyson misses by way of Hurleon weaving his head out of the way, then the tanned male takes his turn with a straight jab aiming for the face. Righteous Lad blocks it with an X-formation of his arms and then throws a right hook for the other's jaw - an attempt cut short when Hurleon raises his left forearm diagonally to block it, then retaliates with another straight with his right fist. Or so Tyson thought… Just as the hero raises his arms to block his face again, his opponent reveals his attack to be a faint. A trick to fool Tyson before using his left to deliver a gut punch. The hit knocks the wind out of him and his guard drops, opening him up for a TRUE straight right that roars with an explosive impact and causes the hero's head to jerk back.  [Man, that kind of hurt!] Righteous Lad notes, but there was no time to think about pain. Hurleon steps forward to throw another punch, and in his desperation, Righteous Lad throws one of his own, as well. The two men both land their punch on one another, but it's nothing that linger on at all. The two go right back to measuring up their mettle in a bare knuckle exchange. This time however, Righteous Lad focuses more on counterattacking for a bit. Focusing on his vision and adjusting to fight in place using light-speed, it begins appearing as if they're attacking simultaneously, but there's a half a second difference. Hurleon gives a straight again, Tyson ducks while dishing a jab to the stomach. Hurleon throws a left hook next, and Tyson sways out of the way while whipping out a hard right hook to the kidney. Hurleon goes for a turning backfist for the hero's face, and Tyson avoids it by ducking and throwing out an upward left jab to the chin. Upon stunning his opponent enough to take a step back, Righteous Lad takes lead and pours it on relentlessly. He circles Hurleon at a speed that renders him 'invisible' and throws a myriad of punches like a machine gun, hitting all over the other's body. It gets to a point where it seems like all Hurleon can do is raise his arms to block his face. However, the only thing accumulating is his level of annoyance, not pain.   "What… AN ABSOLUTE INSECT!!" Hurleon shouts in frustration, gesturing with an aggressive beckon of his hand to call upon the ocean itself. At his command an abrupt large wave comes crashing onto the shore and flopping onto them with a sizable splash. It's all it takes to throw Righteous Lad off enough to stop in his tracks. An opening Hurleon takes despite being just as stopping wet, hitting the off-guard hero with a thunderous blow to the jaw. "I'm not going to let you get away this time!" He exclaims and makes certain to stomp his foot down atop of the hero's to pin his footing in place.  Forced to engage in a straightforward fight again, Tyson does his best to get familiar with the pace. Alas, this time the tanned- skin male is giving an onslaught. Tyson's initial response is to guard his face as much as he could, but that soon changes. [Don't go on defense… don't go defense, don't go on defense!] Tyson shouts at himself and decides to go blow for blow with the other. A grave mistake on his part. He blocks one last punch and then lowers his arms to take a swing of his own. He connects, but it doesn't do anything beyond briefly forcing Hurleon's head to turn from the momentum of his fist. Then he takes a blow to the face. Tyson throws another - a much harder one - but it has the same effect as before. An incoming punch connects with his own face, and it too was harder. Tyson tries again and this time holds nothing back. He winds up trading with an even stronger punch that rocks him into a daze.  [This guy…] Another devastating punch lands on Tyson. For a second, everything goes black and all function of his body leaves him. What gives it back and returns light to his eyes is yet another blow to the face. [A monster… He's a freaking monster!] Suddenly, Righteous Lad becomes a punching bag and it becomes difficult to tell up from down, and for the world to stop spinning. After half a dozen consecutive blows, Hurleon gives his final 7th - the very one he pours all of his might and weight into - and sends Righteous Lad flying with a booming contact that resembles lightning of dark and heavy stormy weather striking the earth.  Righteous Lad flies like a missile from a beach in Hawaii and all the way back to Illinois, coincidentally winding back where the fight began. Smashing into the side of a building before gravity pulls his limp body down to collapse onto the sidewalk below - the peers of Hurleon laying witness to the display.  "Maaaan. He's really roughing that guy up, huh?" A male from the group comments, though receives no response from the tall blonde beside him. Soon, Hurleon also returns to the scene by way of leaping miles upon miles, and lands nearby. Though, he wasn't the only one.  "Boss!" Alexecute cries out as she zips onto the scene with lingering traces of electricity buzzing around her body. Her presence draws the attention of the others, even the son of Hercules. "Get away from him!" She shouts, but just as she begins running toward her fallen comrade, Asclepius cuts her off and stands in her way. "Be calm… We didn't come here to kill him." The blonde calmly informs her. Behind him, Hurleon cracks a grin and resumes making his way over to Righteous Lad without further interruption. "What, you just came here to beat him senseless!?"   "No, that's not–"   "If you think for one second I'm just GOING TO STAND HERE AND DO NOTHING-" The heroine sharply cuts in while clenching her fists. Her eyes begin to glow while concentrated electricity begins sparking aggressively around her hands. Though, she too is interrupted. "It's over." Hurleon announces while holding Righteous Lad like a sack of potatoes in his right arm.  "...Over? You…" Alexecute struggles to speak the dreadful question, but she's given clarity right after. "He's still alive, mortal. And we finally have the evidence we were seeking." The tanned male informs as he approaches the two. Another smirk takes shape across his face. "Congratulations, Asclepius… It's an Olympian, alright." The male announces as he proceeds to hold Righteous Lad up by the back of his neck, allowing them to see the hero's bruised face and the trail of liquid gold running down from his nose. Asclepius and Alexecute both look upon the hero with wide eyes. "Is that…. His blood?" She questions.   "Gold. He does have the blood of an Olympian God." The blonde comments with a newfound frown settling onto his face.   "What exactly does that mean!? You came here JUST to see his blood-type?" Alexecute barks.   "I came here to confirm a suspicion of mine and discover the truth. And now… there's little doubt in my mind that this man really is my younger brother." The blonde answers solemnly.  template credit. 0 Comments  Report Post

10/08/2023 06:51 PM  Righteous Lad™ #5 Righteous Lad #5[ Back At The Silver League Headquarters ] "It's almost unreal how every lead we had and could've had just went up in smoke. Literally." The Crow comments just as he leans back into his seat and crosses his arms. "It is..." Righteous Lad utters with his elbows resting atop of the table he and the rest of his team are sitting around. His hands held together in front of his mouth as his jade green eyes stare blankly at the surface beneath his arms.   "You should have just shared what you knew sooner. Maybe we could have salvaged something long before that explosion went off." The Crow nonchalantly adds.   "I should have..." The hero in charcoal black and cyan responds in the same low-energy manner, then goes on to speak more. "Maybe those guys that we took in could've been saved, too. Maybe I should have asked them questions, as well... See if they had any unique information or knew any more significant names amongst their movement."   "Hey, don't be so hard on yourself. I didn't expect any of this, either. They didn't really seem like much of a big deal at first." Alexecute throws in a notion of reassurance.   "That hardly matters. Big or small, we should've been able to take them down fast. Crime doesn't just standby until we all have free time to deal with it. Every second counted, and a day was wasted in vain." The Crow counters.   "Hey, cool it, will ya? It was an honest mistake. For all we know, that place was booby-trapped to go up in flames the second we tripped over a wire or something." Matrix chimes in this time.   "Maybe... But he still has a point. If nothing else, I could have at least investigated the building myself the day before." Righteous Lad calmly admits.     "It's not exactly a great start, but the data they stole from the MOBA company will undoubtedly allow them to make plans for their next move. We can be more precise and quick to decapitate their schemes at the bud. The flash drive I found back in the CEO's computer has not even a single file on it, however I was able to discover it was transmitting to a lot of different places in the US, China, and Russia. I'm not entirely sure what sort of conspiracy it's implying, but they obviously have peers in different places." The Crow informs the group. Righteous Lad looks toward him right after.   "China and Russia?" Tyson repeats.   "That's right. However, there's no solid evidence. We can't go making any sort of baseless assumption. We'll just end up looking like a bunch of paranoid fools." The teen warns.   "What, what? Is there something we should know about China and Russia?" Matrix asks while shifting her focus between the two males of their team.   "Yeah, I think I get it, but I think I might need it elaborated, too." Alexecute adds.   "No, not necessarily. Theories of political intent without evidence is nothing short of promoting partisanship. For the time being, we have nothing solid to go off of. We have to wait and see if anything else they do can give us more crucial information." Righteous Lad explains.  It's then that the building's emergency alert begins going off, drawing the attention of every single samaritan inside, including Righteous Lad and company.   "Should we check it out?" Alexecute asks after a moment of silence between them allows the alarm to whine without interruption.   "Yeah. Yeah, maybe we should go and see what's up." Tyson answers before rising up out of his seat. His teammates do the same and follow him out of the room, down the stairs where the sight of a sea of their peers can be seen heading toward the largest gathering in the facility. The band of four join the rest in heading that way, as well. As a horde they enter a massive circular room with a navy-blue carpet flooring bearing the initials 'S.L.' in bold white letters at the center and an enormous supercomputer that takes up 1/3 of the wall in the room. The screen before them is 30 feet in height and 50 feet in width, allowing every single eye to see what's on display. A radar bearing an identical shape to the structure of the US on the globe, and one with a red ping giving off waves. One of the members of the establishment sits at the chair and hovers his hands over the wide panel in front of their screen, and soon a holographic keyboard presents itself. He uses it to zoom in on the distress signal and answer the call.   "I think I just got through! H-hello? Hello?" The first thing to pop up is the face of a young woman with wavy blonde hair that cascades down the majority of her face and a domino mask with lenses that hide the color of her eyes by presenting them as monochrome pupils.   "We're here. What's going on, Glitter Pop?" The one sitting at the computer asks.   "There's weird guys who came out of nowhere. The local authority told us they just showed up out of nowhere and started causing damage in the middle of traffic." She explains - just before the sound of a flying car smashing into a nearby building rings out, startling the girl enough to cry out with a shriek. A masculine voice in the background then begins speaking.   "I urge you to stop wasting our time, humans! None of you have the mettle to face the likes of us, so lay down your pitiful attempts and just tell us where the young Olympian God who lives among you resides. Come now, the sun will not sit still while you stall!"    "Is he... talking about Captain Righteous?"    "Maybe, but I'm not sure. Judging by how vague he's been this entire time, I don't think they really know either." Glitter Pop answers. The onlookers inside the Silver League begin talking amongst themselves, filling the room with low and incoherent murmurs. "Look, just send some help, okay? Especially heavy hitters! These guys are strong and flinging us around like dolls." She requests. "I think... I think they're talking about me... But..." Righteous Lad contemplates outwardly under his breath, soon realizing he's missing just one too many clues to piece it all together. Anxiety and a hope of resolving the conflict peacefully, the young man begins taking his leave. Moving at a speed that renders him but a barely noticeable blur as he exits the building and immediately takes flight. He arrives at the scene in just a blink and a half. So fast, that his voice can be heard on Glitter Pop's live communication feed a moment later.   "Hey!" He calls out to one of the tallest of troublemakers firmly - the very one who pauses midway of chucking a cop car with two officers inside of it. The four beings who stick out like a sore thumb, all shift their sights onto the raven-haired newcomer. "I'm not 100% sure how close I am, but I think I know whom you're here for. Put down the car and we can talk this out. Clear up the confusion." The hero suggests calmly with a solemn expression. His approach seems to amuse the one holding the vehicle - the male cracks a smug grin. This one has a muscular and lean physique underneath a somewhat revealing attire. His skin is a tanned complexion that's decorated by a few tattoos on his arms. Though his short hair is as white as snow and his eyes a shade of steel silver, he appears to be, at most, 21 years of age. Lastly, he looks to stand at about 6'3 feet tall.   "Heh. Very well. At least one of you pests has some decency." The male of white hair obliges with apparent disdain before casually and outright tossing the car like a football into the air down the street. "Not like that!" Righteous Lad shouts as he lays witness with disbelief. With another gust of wind, he takes off like a bullet to beat the patrol car where it's bound to land horribly and levitates upward to catch the flipping vehicle between his arms sideways. His right arm hooking underneath while his left over the roof. "I got you, I got you..." He assures the two inside while carefully lowering to solid ground to set them down. "You guys okay?" He asks afterwards, now bending down to peer through a window. "Y-yeah... Oh, man.. Yeah, I think we're good."   "Thanks for the save, Righteous Lad. I thought I could see my life flashing before my eyes for a second there!" The two respond.   "I'll take it from here, okay? You guys did plenty being brave enough to answer when people were in need of help." He smiles softly and gives a nod at the pair before ascending a few feet into the air and floating his way back to the band of troublemakers. On his way, one of the officers spare a moment to lean out a window and shout words of encouragement.   "Kick some tail, kid!"    Soon, Righteous Lad's boots come to meet the surface of the street again with around six or seven feet of space between him and the arrogant individual from before. "Amusing display... I suppose worthless bugs could only value other worthless bugs." The male comments, then proceeds to lift and fold his arms across his chest. "Is that all you see these people as? Not very fair, don't you think?" Righteous Lad responds.   "Fair? The weak are owed no such luxury. Such fragile beings... Blink and they'll age right into dust, as well! I can't even tell humans apart from one another."   "Fragile or not, that doesn't take away their value as living beings. Their lives hold value to me and to others. Mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers. Just because you don't care, doesn't mean someone else caring is less important." Righteous Lad reasons. His words wind up removing the other's grin and replacing it with a look of mild annoyance. "...What utter and useless drivel. The human species are NOTHING compared to the Olympian Gods." The male responds, now taking his turn in earning a disapproving frown from the hero. "I grow bored of this pointless debate. You said you could take us to the Olympian God who lives here in this region on Earth. Fulfill your claim or remove yourself from my sight." The tanned male adds and demands firmly. Swallowing a lump in his throat, Righteous Lad lifts a hand and places over the flag symbol adorning his chest. "You're looking at him..."   "YOU? You're the son of Apollo?" The other questions as if taken aback. "I am, but look... I would appreciate it if you didn't go back home and spread that little bit of info around. It's kind of a sensitive subject." Righteous Lad requests. Not concerned with the hero's concern, the white-haired male cracks a toothy grin while looking over his shoulder at one of his companions. A tall blonde with long blonde hair, fair skin, and sunny-orange colored eyes.     "Seems as if we found him already,    Asclepius.   How confident are you in this sap's words? I can check to see if he's telling the truth if you'd like." The male offers with mischievous delight. The two exchange looks for a moment before the blonde shuts his eyes and gives a reluctant nod. And with that, the male with snow-white hair returns his attention to Righteous Lad once more and begins sauntering closer. He rolls his neck  in a circle and rotates his shoulders as he walks, stopping until he's standing side by side with the hero and facing the opposite direction. "Hey..." He calls to Righteous Lad without looking toward him. "We're taking this very seriously, you know. So I'll ask you one more time... Are you TRULY the bastard son of Apollo?" He proposes the question with a serious scowl upon his handsome features. The other, the hero in charcoal black and cyan, looks up and to the side where the other stands. Standing his ground, Righteous Lad answers as clearly as possible. "I am Apollo's biological son with no shred of a doubt about it." Is the answer given.   "I see." The tanned skin male utters before another grin he cannot hope to fight back takes form across his lips again. He lifts a hand and sets it upon the hero's shoulder. "Then you wouldn't mind if I pry undeniable proof from you..." Choice of words that lead to Righteous Lad arching a brow.   "What do you mean by--" Before the hero can finish that question, the other abruptly grabs hold of him with both hands, takes him for a couple of spins, and then tosses him away with such tremendous force, that the sound barrier is broken upon release. In just a split second, Righteous Lad is crashing through countless buildings, leaving debris of glass, bricks, metal, and stones in his involuntary wake. By the time he slows into tumbling along the street, bouncing off the roof of a few cars as he does, he's far over in Washington D.C. He ends up face down when he finally stops, but not out. In fact, he seems to be in a slight daze than any actual pain when he begins pushing himself up onto his knees. He looks toward the direction he came from and sees a sizable hole in the last building he smashed through, blinking in disbelief as he drinks it in. However, he isn't given any more time to gather his thoughts. His assailant was closing in and dropping down from above.   "DEFEND YOURSELF, SON OF APOLLO!" The being roars as a psychotic toothy grin takes up his entire mouth.   template credit. 0 Comments  Report Post

10/08/2023 06:48 PM  Righteous Lad™ #4 Righteous Lad #4After work, Tyson arrives at the Silver League headquarters around 7:30pm. Presenting as his "alter ego", Righteous Lad, as he walks in through the building's front entrance.  It's awfully difficult to truly get an estimate of the facility's size, but it serves as the heart -- the gathering point of heroes and aspiring heroes. So massive in size, that you couldn't necessarily be blamed for thinking it was some sort of ultra museum or one of the world's most prestigious colleges. In addition, its exterior and interior are modeled after the White House, though 3 & 1/2 times larger in size. At the very top of the building sits a massive steel stand that holds up a coin-like structure with the initials 'S.L.' on it in bold lettering.   The inside is bustling with life that keeps an ambience of meshing chatter constant throughout its nexus of a hall. People from all over the USA, hailing from different states thanks to the convenience of either individuals' powers or the advanced science of teleportation technology - particularly machinery called "Port Booths". Thanks to the financial and technical backing of the American Deeds Association, which is a renown group made up of America's most famous and adept superheroes that work very intimately close with the US government. The finest representatives of America, in fact. An opinion the general populace of the world shares of them.   Along the stainless marble floor within, Righteous Lad's cyan boots audibly 'clack' against the firm surface with every step he takes. As of this moment, he's on his way to his team's usual meeting spot. A room just on the second floor and right next to the left diverging stairs. He arrives soon enough and enters the room, where Alexecute and Matrix were already inside waiting. The space was just about like any other. Fairly large with a round table at the center, several chairs and two loveseats available for a group with a handful of members. Privacy was rather limited, given the hidden camera inside - though it was something every other room inside the building has, as well.   "Yo, boss." Alexecute greets with a subtle raise of her hand.   "S'up, R.L?" Matrix greets without tearing her eyes away from her cell phone screen for more than two seconds.   "Evening, you two. As soon as The Crow arrives, we can--"   "I'm here." Before Tyson can finish that thought, the teen in black enters the room and circles around others. He then sets a puffy envelope down onto the table. "And I think I might have stumbled upon something interesting... Something interesting that could become an issue very soon." He informs the others, piquing the curiosity of the three.   "What is this?" Righteous Lad asks as he picks up the bulging evidence of The Crow's claim.   "Are those jars inside of it?" Alexecute asks while studying it with narrowing eyes. During, Tyson proceeds to open it and pull out one of the two containers inside.   "Experimental substance made to amplify the powers of experiments like you, or Power Inheritors. It's something new and definitely would be in demand amongst those who don't know any better. Or even the desperate..." The Crow answers her. While explaining. Righteous Lad holds up the barely hand-size up to eye-level to examine the radiant liquid inside. Honey in color and vibrant enough to be an independent light source in the dark.   "So, it's true, then." Righteous Lad comments softly.   "So... It's a drug that can improve people's powers? You think it's dangerous?" Matrix asks.   "Yes. Given I heard it straight from the mouth of a seller I interrogated hours ago. He told me there can sometimes be unpredictable side effects, something he claims his boss explained to him. Cardiac arrest, mutations, comas, internal swelling and rupturing. They call it Neon Nectar."   "Woah. Kind of sounds like an alcoholic drink." Alexecute states.   "It's just like what the guy I carried off to the station told me... He was injected with this stuff too, I believe. We need to crack down on this immediately and find out where it's being produced." Righteous Lad tells the others.   "Agreed. The sooner we snip this in the bud, the better. You said you had a lead the other day, right?" The Crow asks.   "That I do." Righteous Lad responds, pausing a moment to fish out the folded piece of paper in his pocket. "The guy I took to the station wrote down some information for me. Address, time of their next meeting, the date, and other potential hideouts." He goes on to explain before handing the paper over to the solemn teen in black.   "What...? Why would they meet at a potentially compromised location?" The Crows questions as he furrows his brows skeptically.   "I was wondering that, as well. But I have no other leads. I was honestly hoping they were just incompetent enough to be that slop--" Before Tyson could finish his thought, the sudden ringing of his cell phone interrupts him. With little delay, he plucks out his cellphone and takes a look at the caller I.D. He's a bit surprised to see it's from the Chicago police station, nonetheless he answers it. "Hello?   Yeah, this is him.   Uh huh. What is it?   ...what? All of them? But--" By now, the other three were staring once his tone shifts to one of concern. "Okay, okay... I understand. I have to check up on something immediately, but thank you for informing me of this.   Yeah...   Yeah, you, too." And with that, the call comes to an end.   "Who was that? Is everything okay, boss?" Alexecute asks.   "That was the chief from the police station. The... The group we apprehended... They're believed to have been assassinated or coordinated suicide. All of them dropped inside their cells." He answers dishearteningly.   "Are you serious!?" Matrix practically shouts as she shoots up out of her chair.   "Oh my Gosh..." Alexecute murmurs under her breath.   "Tch. I'm not surprised... They were probably told to give up information in a deceitful way that could buy them time or were sold a complete lie." The Crow theorizes while folding his arms.   "Whatever it may be, there's one more I have to check on. In the meantime, you three can head on over to that address and see what you can find. Just please be careful if you decide to go." Righteous Lad gives his parting words to his team before turning to leave the room with haste. Sadly, he couldn't depend on his ability of flight to get to his destination - not when it's past 6pm and the night begins creeping in to claim the sky above. Such was the duality of his capabilities. Come sunrise or sunset, natural abilities shift and exchange, and right now he doesn't have access to the ability to traverse faster than the speed of light nor the ability to fly. However, he was still far faster than the average human and grounded animal. The young man was able to travel up to the rate of 101 mph on foot.   While making his way toward the exit, he makes sure to avoid both bumping into anyone and tearing one of the doors down from his momentum while heading out. However, once he is outside, he takes off with a mighty gust of wind into a mad dash. Heading straight before making a sharp turn to swiftly make his way down the block.  Once he comes up upon the corner and promptly leaps into the air with great force. Not too much, just enough to allow him to jump onto the rooftop of a nearby building. From there, he makes his way to the CPSD by jumping from building to building, regardless of how tall or short they were. It takes around three minutes or so for him to reach his destination. After making one last and especially careful jump, he lands in the middle of the trafficless street below that's a straight shot toward the station. He bolts onward until he closes off the rest of the distance, then eventually brings himself into a skidding halt in front of the building. The young man hurries inside and immediately begins calling out for assistance.   "Excuse me, sorry! Can someone help me out here? I need to check up on someone I brought in the other day. It's an emergency!"   "Woah, woah there. What's the issue, son?" Out of the bunch who turn their head toward the male's sudden appearance, it's one of the female officers who approaches to confront him.   "I think the individual I brought in yesterday may be in danger, and I want to make sure he's okay." He answers her.   "I haven't heard anything going on here, but I'll do what I can to help. Do you know his name? Maybe some sort of description of him?" She asks in turn.   "He told me he goes by number forty-five. He's about my height more or less, kind of on the large size in weight, was wearing a mask, and... I believe he was placed inside some sort of specialized cell because of his power."   "Aaah, okay. Yeah, I think I know who you're talking about. Follow me, then." She instructs and then proceeds to lead him toward the area they keep potentially hazardous suspects. They head through a pair of double doors and travel through a spacious corridor. Walking straight before taking a left at the third available turn, then a right at the very next one - where a more secure door lays in waiting. She plucks out an I.D. card from her person and swipes it through the card reader beside the door, then punches in a five digit code on the number pad that's right beside the swipe device. A buzz goes off and she pushes through the doors to allow him inside. The room was eerily red. An overwhelming shade of red, in fact. Instead of iron bars, cells were in the form of transparent boxes with steel doors being the only way to either enter or leave them. They two pass several doors before eventually halting at the fourth within the L-shaped room.  "Hey, Gerald! You've got a surprise visitor today." The officer informs just before stepping aside and gesturing to the hero to step forward in front of the glass square window on the door.   "Oh, thank God! You are okay. I was really worried they might've gotten you, too." Tyson comments upon seeing #45 sitting inside through the window.   "Righteous Lad? Dude, what are you doing here? And what do you mean by... Gotten me, too?" #45 asks as he rises up from his cell bed and moves toward the door.   "I'll explain, but first I need you to tell me if you've been having any suicidal thoughts at all."   "Ou-what!? No, man. I don't wanna' kill myself. Why would you even think that?" #45 asks in turn.   "Alright. Well, the other foot soldiers, including Pierre, collapsed in their cells a few hours ago. They've all been checked and... They're all gone. I want to make sure that doesn't happen to you, as well."    "Oh my God... You're... You're serious?"   "I am." Righteous Lad assures.   "Christ, Dude... Those were a lot of guys. Are ALL of them really dead?"   "That's what I've been told. Do you have any idea who or what might've caused it?" Righteous Lad asks.   "No, not really. I haven't a single--.. No, wait. Maybe it could've been the false tooth Pierre gave us. He said 'it'll be our way of getting out and reuniting somewhere safe if things got bad', when he gave it to us. I lost mine the day we went to carry out the plan. Hoo boy... Good thing I did, too." #45 explains.   "Poison, then. Alright, I appreciate you sharing that with me. I better get a move on and meet my team at the place. There's no telling what's going on right now." With his business concluded at the station, Righteous Lad departs from the building and begins making his way to the far opposite side of the city.   Meanwhile, the others - The Crow, Alexecute, and Matrix - arrive just in time to lay witness to an abrupt and fiery explosion. The location they were meant to investigate, a storage warehouse, just went up in flames. From a rooftop nearby, the three watch as the structure crumbles and burns under the relentless caress and crackle of flames consuming it. The Crow, much like the others, comes to realize that whoever was behind the terrorist attack wasn't as dumb as they might've initially thought.   template credit. 0 Comments  Report Post

10/03/2023 01:54 PM  Righteous Lad™ #3 Righteous Lad #3"Do you have everything you need?" "Yeah, I have everything."   "Everything?"   "Yes, mom... I have everything. I have to head out now if I want to make it on time by normal means." A little back and forth ensues between the young man and his mother as he finishes up tying the last of his shoelaces on his right converse sneaker. A young man with a very fair and slightly pale complexion, shaggy and somewhat short raven hair, eyes a neon-like jade color that anyone would swear glows if they were standing near him in a dark room, a lean and strong physique adorn by a white t-shirt, red sport wristbands on each wrist, fitted blue jeans upheld by a stylish belt with studs all throughout its length, and of course the pair of red gym shoes on his feet. He looks to be no older than 18 judging by his youthful, yet strong features and his height of 5'11 & 1/2.   "Alright, just making sure. Buuuuut... I do think there is one last thing you're missing on your way out, Tyson." The mother insists in a rather singsong tone while presenting a gesture. Her arms extend and spread expectantly as her son stands up from where he's sitting. Without failure or hesitation, Tyson turns to face and approach her welcoming arms for an exchange of embrace. The mother hugs him with thorough affection, while the young man minds his strength while returning the effort to the best of his ability. "That's my boy." She says affectionately and gives him a few gentle pats on the back before their hug inevitably ends.   "I love you, too, mom." Tyson responds with a grin, soon bending over to pick up his gym bag from the floor and places the slang over his head. "Alright, I gotta' go." He tells her and follows up by leaning in to place a kiss onto her cheek. "Bye, mom. Bye, dad!"   "Have a productive day at work, son." His father calls out from the living room.   "Bye, honey." His mother bids him farewell in turn before he heads on out, then shuts and locks the front door as he heads down the steps of their porch.    With haste behind his steps, Tyson  hustles his way to work -- a clothing & accessory chain store that focuses on selling merchandise that derives from the ever-lasting and ever-changing fashion trends that hail from the subculture of punk, goth, and everything else in between.  Nearly halfway through the ten minute walk, his cell phone begins vibrating within his pocket. He plucks it out, sees that it's from his co-worker, Alexecute, and accepts the call before bringing the device up to his ear.   "Hello?"   "Yo, boss. Don't suppose you're willing to share what you learned now? I saw your text about waiting until the next meeting, but you know there's no real team privacy in that building. Moochers will hop on our case like flies nosediving right into a pot of honey." Alexecute reasons, presently sitting at her bedroom desk. Her right hand supports her chin, while her left mindlessly taps her mechanical pencil away at the wooden surface in front of her.   "Yeah, I know, I know. But it's the most convenient place for all of us to meet without possibly sharing or giving away too much personal information."   "B'aah... C'mon, we've been teammates for practically two years now, and I even have your phone number!"   "Yes. Yes you do... Which you're only supposed to call me through for emergencies." Tyson reminds her.   "I know, but I've called you plenty of times now. We're super cool. Plus, my parents even have your number, too. You're like... My albino cousin at this point!"   "Your albino cousin, huh...?" Tyson repeats with a tone skeptical as the look he makes at hearing that phrase.    "Yeah! I trust you with my life. I don't think there's ever been a time you've let me down. You're like, if Mr. Incredible had a son. Jr. Incredible!"   "Oh... Well, I'm flattered, Alexecute. I hope the day that I unintentionally do, doesn't come too soon, then. But still, I don't think you should toss caution to the wind and just share everything with me. Or anyone outside of your immediate family for that matter. What we do is pretty dangerous, after all." Tyson stands his ground on the subject.   "Hang on."   "Hang on--?" DING! A sudden notification alert takes Tyson by surprise. Curious, he briefly holds the screen in front of his face to what just came through. "I see numbers and letters, Alexecute... I'm not opening that message. Delete it. Please." Tyson firmly, yet politely demands of her.   "What? I just wanna' show you how much I trust you."   "That's swell and all, but this is an inappropriate way of showing it. This is becoming a little way too weird..."   "It's only weird, because you're making it weird. But fine, I'll delete it. But we should definitely hang out sometimes. All of us. As a friend-team." Alexecute proposes.   "I'm almost double you guys' ages. You're better off just hanging out amongst yourselves, if anything."   "Now you're going to make hanging out as a group weird, too? C'mon, boss. Even baseball coaches hangout and go get pizza with their Jr. league team. It'll be exactly like that."   "Listen, maybe someday I'll consider it. Maybe. However, I'm about to clock into work, so we'll have to save the discussion for later." Tyson informs her as he closes in on the store.   "Wait, you're already at the SL headquarters?"   "No, not that clock. A different job. We'll talk more later, though, okay?"   "Fiiiiine. Talk to you later, boss." And with those final words from his peer, the phone call comes to an end. Just as Tyson reaches the front door, no less. He slips his phone back into his pocket and enters the store, where his co-worker is preparing to open shop. The bell above the entrance alerts her to his arrival.   "Ey-he-he-he-ey, look who it is. What's up, homeskillet? Flip that Closed sign around for me?" Serenity, the young woman he usually works with, asks of him. She stands at 5'5 in height, her skin a rather pasty shade of white, her eyes hazel colored, her hair jet-black and shaved at the sides of her head while evenly trimmed bangs rests just above her brows. The back of her hair is styled in a high bun with a black & white checkered bow tie neatly holding it in place. Her attire is made of a black sweater that layers over a white button up shirt, several loops and stud earrings decorate her ears, a skull ring on her right middle finger, every one of her nails painted black, a studded and black & white checkered belt rests lopsided upon her hip and over the knee-length black skirt she's wearing, and lastly - a pair of shin-high converse shoes, black as everything else on her person, are on her feet. Along with her solemn and rather gloomy fashion, her tone usually sits at an odd mixture of aloofness and kind.   "Oh sure, no problem." Tyson responds and immediately obliges her request. Afterwards, he heads toward the back room behind the counter to put away his bag and punch in for work. "Ready for another exciting day of work?" He asks while exiting the room.   "Oh, absolutely. What could be more exciting than working here for a whole ten hours a day?" She sarcastically responds, then reaches into one of the pockets she's personally sewn seamlessly onto the sides of her skirt for a stick of gum. One that she unwraps and practically tosses into her mouth. It was likely going to be another normal day at work for the two.    However, elsewhere and just a measly few hours later, a youth clad in black stalks the inner city rooftops of Southside Chicago, leaping from building to building while keeping an ear open for trouble. He keeps his eyes peeled for questionable activities on the streets and back alleys. He also alternates between listening to his surroundings at times, and the micro ear-radio that's tapped into the CPD frequency of the nearest police patrol car, at other times.  Up to this point and still going, things have been uneventful for the half past hour. Though, he knows that won't last too long in this district. He grew up within the area, after all. Things haven't changed since four years ago and it's in need of some crime cleaning. Every bit counts in his eyes.   Soon, he comes upon his final leap for the time being. He steps up onto the ledge of the current building he's on to scale the jump. Across from him he sees an iron structure of stairs hugging the side of the next building over. Definitely a bit of a distance, but nothing that makes him second guess himself.   He backs up until he's somewhere near the center of the current roof, then immediately shoots forward into a sprint. He kicks off just as he comes up on the very edge and soars using his momentum. Knees slightly bent and feet parallel of each other–   K L A N K !   He lands immaculately upon the third level railing with the balance & precision of a feline and uses his outstretched arms to aid in keeping him stable. Just until he hops down onto the surface and begins ascending the remaining flights of stairs. Once at the very top, he puts his pique level of gymnastics to use and runs up the few feet of wall before him to reach the ledge of the roof, easily hoisting himself up upon doing so.   It's here he plans on remaining stationary for a little while. Turning to his right, he heads toward the ledge while plucking his cell phone, which also doubles as his mobile tech support, from a pouch on his utility belt he specifically designed to hold it. He lowers into a crouch, balancing upon the balls of his feet with his knees spread in opposite diagonal directions. He punches in the password of his lock screen. During, two men step out of an apartment and onto the fire escape just two floors down. Nothing that draws his attention for longer than three seconds. That is… until they begin chatting.   "Man, I really need a smoke… You got a lighter on ya?"   "Yeah, I got one." Within a moment, the sound of the mentioned item's tiny metal gear being flicked twice follows. There's a pause as the smoker takes his first inhale and exhale.   "This uhh.. Is this their first time doing this sort of thing?"   "Bro, this is like my third time. Had to find more people to help, and they're definitely just as green as me. Guys are gonna' give me a heart attack with the way they're handling the dope I'm supposed to be pushing." And there it was. Admission from the stressed dealer himself – the very phrase that snags The Crow's attention. A sudden and irrational rage swells up within the Chicagoan Samaritan, and it takes great restraint for him to keep from squeezing his phone too hard. It's all he needs to hear to put aside what he was doing.   As the two continue on to chat, the teen raises to stand while tucking his phone away again. He moves to where he climbed previously and turns his back to the edge of the roof, then listens carefully… Using the sound of their voice to form a guesstimation of where they're standing. One that eventually leads him into taking two steps to his right. Then? He throws himself off the building with a backflip…   "--Yeah, my student loans are a bit–" Before that thought could finish, The Crow comes in hurling himself and drop kicking one of them after gripping an iron step above and using it to swing with all of his momentum.   "Oof!"   T H U M P !   The attack sends the smoker's associate thrashing against the brick wall beside the door they came out from.   Upon landing within the rather compact space, the masked samaritan reaches to retrieve twin onyx colored rods from the largest pouch that hugs his right thigh. They're fist-size initially, but they extend by eight inches once he pushes the 'top' buttons on the surface. He flips them to hold the mechanical clubbing rods upright afterwards.   "Hey, what the hell!? Who are yo–!?   ACK!?   AH!   Ough!"   T I N K - T A C - T H M P !   The sound metal rods connecting within a swift combination rings out, and ends up with the smoker collapsing into the corner of the fire escape.   After knocking one down, the other gets back up and immediately rushes to try to grab the masked patroller from behind. However, the youth was quick to react. In addition, every bit of movement was made obvious by the metal structure they were on. He anticipated the attempt. Thus, he turns to deliver an uppercut to the chin with an elbow, dropping the guy unconscious. His attention then settles back onto the dealer in the corner who was just beginning to collect himself.   "You like selling, huh? Like the money you take for putting that garbage out on the streets?" The masked samaritan asks nonchalantly as he creeps closer. The man panics and clumsily reaches to pull out a gun from his back pocket. The exact moment he raises it and tries to take aim, The Crow smacks it harshly out of his hand with a club. The firearm then falls and clacks on the pavement far down below.   "Hey, man, be easy, alright?"   "Be easy? Nah, can't do that. You did the ONE thing I cannot forgive.." The teen responds and accusingly points a club.   "L- look, I'm sorry, okay? You want money? I got money! We can work something out here, bro. Just be cool!"   "Money? I don't want your MONEY!!" And a beating ensues. The man bawls up into a human ball and uses his arms to protect his face.   "You.   Filthy.   Insufferable.   Bastard!   All of you!   Make me…   SICK!!" Each moment of him speaking was accompanied by a swing and the sound of metal hitting skin and bone. It continues on for a little while longer, no remorse as the criminal cries out in pain from nearly every blow.    "Alright, alright! Stop! Stop, stop, STOP!!" The dealer pleads when he could take no more. His plea is heeded, but only after the masked hero delivers one last strike to his bicep.   "Yeah, you're done!? Huh!?"   "Yeah, man. No more drugs.. No more drugs!"   "GOOD. Good…" The teen breathes out, turning away and moving a few steps as he collects himself and his breath.   "I'm sorry, man. I just needed the extra money, ya know?" And it's those very words that earn yet another violent reaction from the masked teen. The youth abruptly turns around and renders the older man unconscious with a thrusting kick to the face.   "There's always an excuse behind ruining innocent people's lives." Timothy murmurs to himself, then shifts his focus toward the door they came through. A likely entree into a drug operation.  He reaches into one of the pouches of his utility belt and retrieves three gray pallets that were nearly the size of golf balls before crouching near the door. His free hand reaches to grip the doorknob while his other carefully clutches around the pallet. He inhales.   Then exhales.   He finally twists the knob and pushes the door open, immediately tossing the gray orbs inside as he does. In a matter of seconds, a smoke screen fills out the entire room, obscuring the vision of all within it. As the men inside complain and comment on the harmless smoke, The Crow makes one quick adjustment before heading inside.   "Activate infrared settings." He commands, and his mask fulfills his wish. Afterwards, he charges inside and shuts the door behind himself. Within seconds, the sound of pain driven grunts and blunt beatings ensue.   template credit. 0 Comments  Report Post

10/03/2023 01:52 PM  Righteous Lad™ #2 Righteous Lad #2 "So, would you like to tell me what all of that was about?" At his leisure, Righteous Lad flies over the city. Far above enough to where the pedestrians below look almost like ants.   "What? No! I've got nothing to say to you!" The criminal the hero was securely holding by the armpits responds.   "No? You were willing to take a handful of lives back there... You sure there isn't anything you want to tell me?" Tyson presses calmly.   "Nope. My lips? Are sealed. And that's that."   "Huh, alright. Then tell me a bit about yourself."   "What could I possibly tell you, dude? You want me to tell you about my upbringing or something? You're not pulling one over on me." The stubborn criminal responds.   "No tricks. I just want to know a bit about you. Got a name?"   "Pffft! Like I'd just help you I.D. me."   "Well, where we're going, it's going to happen either way. The station will certainly figure out who you are. But if you're really so against telling me your real name, how about an alias?" Righteous Lad suggests.   "An alias? Well, I guess go by 45 when I'm on the job."   "Forty-five?"   "Yeah. Like, foot soldier #45." The masked man answers.   "I see... Seems a bit odd. That guy, the one with the French accent, implied that he isn't too fond of individualists. Are you really comfortable being a number in someone else's ideology? Giving up who you are for the sake of someone else?"   "Well, when you put it that way, that does sound pretty awful. But you know, he did make some good points. He told me I didn't have to spend my life slaving away at a job that means absolutely nothing in the long-term, and that I deserve better than the fat cats who sit at the top, raking in the benefits of the hard work people like me put up with." #45 answers.   "That's... A rather flawed way of looking at things. Sounds like that guy has an unhealthy, counterproductive, and spiteful view of the world. May I ask what was your previous job?"   "An employee at McTowners. Helped with cooking mostly."   "Ah, I see. Did you hate working there?"   "Hate? Ehh... Not really. It seemed alright for a while, but after meeting Pierre, I was able to see it for what it truly was."   "Interesting." Is all Righteous Lad says before he begins descending, eventually placing #45 down onto his feet atop of the roof of a tall building. The act draws confusion over the foot soldier's face.   "Hey, what gives? You're not gonna' leave me up here, are you?"   "No, of course not. Just thought we'd stop here and talk a bit more. You hungry by any chance?" Righteous Lad asks. In turn, he receives a skeptical frown from the other. Some times passes. More or less twenty minutes or so, and the two are now sitting side by side on the ledge of the roof while having lunch together.   "Mmmph... Mmm! Oh man, this is like--" Righteous Lad takes his first bite of his burger and is left fumbling over his words at what could only really be described as a radical raid on his taste buds.  "Like...! I don't know, it's just unbelievably good!"   "Right!? I told ya, dude. The crispy Spicy-sweet jerk chicken sandwich is totally legit! It's pretty much the best chicken sandwich in the US. Maybe even the whole freakin' world!" #45 Boasts with absolute confidence before he begins taking a crunchy bite out of his own burger. The two sit in a moment of brief silence to savor their meal. Several bites and nearly an entire minute later, the foot soldier speaks up again. "So, uhm... Righteous Lad?"   "Yeah, man?" The hero answers just as he finishes swallowing down another bite.   "I know I was sorta' giving you a hard time before, but I am genuinely curious on your take on this whole worker's fair treatment thing. You don't think Pierre had a good point or two at all?"   "I think. . . I can see where he may be coming from a bit. I'm sure it's not encouraging at all to believe that everything you do goes unacknowledged or that your job isn't enjoyable at all. It's totally understandable to want more out of life, though. That's the fire of ambition that tries its best to provoke us into chasing something bigger and better." Righteous Lad responds, then takes a pause to take a swig from the straw of his medium drink.   "Huh... Yeah, that makes sense. I could see that." #45 comments as he digests the food-for-thought.   "And that's the thing! The big catch that a lot of people seem to overlook and pretend isn't a big contributing factor. The fortitude of ambition. It's easy for anyone to say that they deserve the finest in life, but it's... Dude, it's so devastatingly sad how many people don't have the drive to push themselves to go for it." The hero goes onto explain with sadness lacing his words - the same sadness he looks toward #45 with. Then he continues. "Of course, that's not to say that everyone in life can share the same luck. You know what I mean? If we could all win the lottery, then it wouldn't have the weight and gravitation it has on people now."   "But, don't you think it could be nice to get rid of it? You know, luck based things in life. Everyone starts in the same place, has the same resources, and is able to go through the same legitimate system to get somewhere better in life if they want something more." #45 proposals.   "It sounds nice, but like what I mentioned with the lottery, that would devalue what it means to be successful. Sure, it sounds groovy and I don't want anyone to struggle, but... Living in a world like how you're describing would actually mean setting the bar three times as high and making it difficult for every milestone someone reaches to mean something significant. On top of that, there's no definite way to control free will. To control the preferences of the common civilian. Even if starting a business becomes 200% easier, there's still the matter of competition of services. Some people would still fail due to preferences."   "Oh... Hm. I think... I think I see what you're getting at now. Everyone can't be winners."   "That is the truth of the world, I feel. But that doesn't mean the little guys, the employees, aren't important. They matter very much. They're the ones who help businesses flow and continue on, after all. Fry cooks, cashiers, stockers. I appreciate them all and what they do." Righteous Lad assures before finally taking another bite out of his sandwich.   "You know, that's pretty nice to hear from someone like you! Sort of thought those were kind of low grade jobs that losers get stuck with."   "Hey, a working civilian is an admirable civilian in my opinion. There's absolutely nothing wrong with working those kinds of jobs, or wanting to do it long-term." After finishing that thought, the hero takes another swig from his drink. Silence, to the best of its ability, creeps as the two spend the next family long moment finishing up their meals. #45 is the one to speak up while they set their garbage inside the plastic bag Righteous Lad along with him from the restaurant.   "I think I made a mistake... Now that I think about the things you told me, I kind of see things differently. What was I thinking, honestly? I had to be out of my mind to think that those kinds of changes would come within a week or month, anyway."   "Hey, it's alright. I think it's cool you're willing to admit that what you got yourself involved in wasn't a wise choice. It's the first step to redeeming yourself!" The hero expresses with a bit of enthusiasm as he reaches over to pat the other on the back a few gentle times.   "Thanks, man. I'm glad you actually stopped me before I took things even further than we already did."   "Me too! Speaking of which-- That thing you did when we were in the air... The exploding thing. What's that all about?" Righteous questions.   "Oh, that. Well, it's sort of like a power I had since the day I was born."   "To... Blow yourself up? I'd imagine it'd be hard to live safely with that your whole life."   "Oh, no-no! Before I met Pierre, the most I could do was like a lame party trick. At best, I could go off like a smoke bomb you can get from the store. Usually burned my clothes a bit each time I did it. But then Pierre gave me a shot of this power amplifying stuff and made it 50 times stronger!" #45 explains.   "Power amplifying stuff? Can you tell me more about it? Was it a supplement? A drug?" Righteous Lad asks while arching a brow.   "He did call it a drug. Said it was a special substance he got a good deal on from the black market."   "Huh... That sounds rather concerning. Are you doing alright?"   "Yeah, I'm fine! The shot gave me a little pep up. I felt energized, nothing else besides that." #45 assures the other.   "I see. Would you mind telling me about Pierre's entire operation? Common meeting place, plans, and possibly even associates who might've helped you guys get into the building. Those sorts of things." Righteous Lad requests.   "Oh sure. I can help ya out with that, man. Got a pen and paper? I can write some of it down for you, if you want." Soon after their talk, Righteous Lad continues his task of delivering the foot soldier to the CPSD, the cousin location of the CPD that specializes in handling proceedings for Power Inherent Humans, or 'P.I.' for short. They land in front of the two story building and enter.    "Well, well, well..." A masculine voice that's both study and smooth as waxed oakwood makes itself heard. It belongs to a man with a rather imposing stature. He stands at 6'5 in height with a broad, but buff physique underneath his work uniform. A gold sleeveless shirt with the department's branding and initials on it, as well as a badge that sits on the upper left side of the shirt's breast region. A pair of aviator shades obscure his blue eyes while his officer's cap nearly hides every strand of his blonde curly locks. His skin is the shade of olive. "If it isn't the Boy of Tomorrow. How ya doing, champ!? And who's this fella with you?"   "I'm doing pretty good, sir! And this here is number forty-five, a P.I He was an accomplice to the hostage situation downtown. You know, the one in that large business building."   "Oh, is that right? So, what are we dealing with here? Vision blasts, projectiles, deadly poison, super speed, mind control, or even telekinesis?"   "No. He's uuhh... Explosive. Like a bomb, in fact." Righteous Lad answers with a sheepish smile. Far less amused and far more concerned, the officer stares with an alarming look on his face.   "Watalski!! Gonna' need a containment room prepped and ready to go asap! Chop, chop!" The blonde shouts across the room and emphasizes with a couple of claps of his hands.   "Ah-- I'm not going to stop you, Officer James, but I would like to add that I don't feel he's a threat. He's also very willing to comply." Righteous Lad chimes in. The hero then turns his attention toward #45.  "Right, man?"   "Y-yeah! Totally, I am very willing to be super cooperative." The former foot soldier responds.   "I hear ya, kid. But if it's all the same to you two gentlemen, I'd still like to put him somewhere secure where he can't potentially hurt someone. Sorry, but better safe than sorry." Officer James insists. Barely seconds after, a couple of armed escorts approach to guide #45 toward the specialized cell.    "Later, Righteous Lad. Thanks again, by the way." #45 bids his farewell.   "Of course, man. I have faith in you! I know you'll easily turn your life around for the better." Righteous Lad responds in kind while giving a farewell salute.   "Good job, R.L. I'll file this in myself and make sure you get the credit for bringing the guy in." James assures the hero.   "Appreciated. Though, there is something else I'd like to report. #45, the guy I just brought in, told me about their base of operations and affiliates. I have an address and names on a piece of paper with me." Righteous Lad informs before retrieving the mentioned paper from the pocket of his black leather hoodie and handing it over.   "Interesting. I'll report it in, but what's your assessment on this? Think it's something simple enough for the authorities to handle personally?"   "Maybe. But I was hoping to hear your take on the severity of it. I was also told they have access to some sort of drug that can drastically amplify the powers someone has. Could be even more dangerous guys, maybe not... #45 seemed to be the only P.I. amongst his group. How do you feel about it?"   "Huh. That does sound pretty risky. Maybe it'd be best to let you handle this one, too. Just to be safe." Officer James answers with his features knitting into a concern frown as he hands back the piece of paper.   "Alright then. I'll take care of it. They're planning on meeting up in three days some time during the morning, so it seems best to wait and see if they do." Righteous Lad responds as he pockets the paper again.   "Sounds good. Anything else?"   "Nope. Just gonna' head straight home."   "Cya, then. You be safe out there, kid." Officer James nods.   "I'll do my best to do what I can, sir." Righteous Lad replies as he turns to leave. From the grounds outside of the building, the young man takes to the sky and flies his way home. Midway of his travel, he presses and holds his point & middle fingers over the lower back of his right hand where the sleeve of his costume reaches. After four seconds pass, the suit begins breaking down into tiny particles and gathering at a focus point upon his wrist. They combine and give shape to a gray sports watch, concealing the nanotechnology that his suit is made from. A moment later, he descends down two blocks away from his residence and jogs the rest of the way in his civilian clothes.   template credit. 0 Comments  Report Post

10/03/2023 01:50 PM  Righteous Lad™ #1 Righteous Lad #1 [ Present Day ]   Overhead, sunlight shines down upon the city of Chicago on this fair afternoon. The weather is rather chilly and sitting just below 57 degrees, but it's business as usual in the busiest section of Illinois' most famous town. Crime-fighting was certainly a part of that agenda, as well.   "Matrix, got five heading down north side."   "Got it, Boss."   C R A S H! - C R A S H!   Like laundry being tossed into a bin, a handful of masked assailants go flying from the 48th floor of a 51st story tall corporate building in the most casual fashion. The one responsible, the divine lad in charcoal black and adorning cyan, isn't so uncaring of life as his actions may lead anyone observing him up close to be. No, he's just awfully confident in his team. Rightfully so, truth be told. After using the first two to shatter a couple of windows, he handles the rest of the armed culprits in the same manner. With speed like lightning, zipping from one to the next. And strength that is only surpassed by only one individual on Earth, tossing them as if they were weightless - inefficient as even paperweights. At the very foot of the building, a heroine calmly sets up a 'safety net'. She gestures as if she's spreading out a scroll upon a table, and uses her mere thought to construct a transparent zero gravity space that reaches widely below the screaming criminals falling toward it. Naturally, the crowd of pedestrians nearby watch with suspense and dreading anticipation, expecting a gruesome ending for the five.    "OH MY GOD!!"   An exclamation of panic shouts from the crowd as dire gasps and screams follow when they are getting dangerously close to meeting with the ground. However, one by one, they stop short and almost abruptly. The confused bunch caught up within the weaver's 'web' were floating almost ten feet above the steps of the building. Murmurs of curiosity and praise begin replacing the suspenseful atmosphere. A smug look spreads across the greenette's face - the one who willed such an unnatural change to a fraction of space - as she makes another gesture. Motioning as if she was boxing in something between her palms, which results in the wide invisible field shrinking into a large see-through box, huddling the criminals together in the process. She turns and takes a prideful bow before the onlookers.   "Thank you, thank you! I know, that was totally amazing, wasn't it?" While she gloats to the public, Righteous Lad ascends to the 50th floor via jogging up the stairwell.   On his way up, a familiar sound begins creeping up the absurd levels of stairs. A constant coursing of electricity that grows louder by the passing nanoseconds. He doesn't have to stop and look to know it's none other than Alexecute who's following him up. In fact, he witnesses her passing him by with his inhuman senses. He's, as well as her, capable of observing what the human eye can't quite follow. He might've been standing still to her, but she was clear as day to him and moving at what he often subconsciously mistakes as normal speed. Nonetheless, his teammate beats him to the top. And when he comes up to the last flight he needs to climb to reach the appropriate floor, there she stands. Leaning against the wall with her arms folded across her chest.   "Hey, Alex." Righteous Lad greets with a simple smile as he casually peels open the door and heads beyond it. Of course, she follows right behind him.   "Did you seriously throw them out the window?"   "I... Did. I shouldn't have, but I did." The two begin as they tread through the corridors of the floor.   "You know, I'd expect something like that from Mr. Pain, but you? I kinda' thought you'd be a little more responsible than that." Alexecute chides.   "Don't take another step!" There in waiting stands another armed and masked culprit with his rifle trained on the two . One Alexecute prompt takes care of with a swift electricity bolt from her palm that sends the male slamming into the wall behind him before he falls onto his stomach.   "I know, I know... And I've been thinking about it this whole time. I got too comfortable and got carried away." Tyson explains as they turn at the next corner.   "Hey, what the h-"   T H W A C K!   After abruptly snatching the gun out of the next criminal's hand who was likely coming over to see what was going on, Righteous Lad carefully strikes him in the face with the butt of the gun and knocks him out cold.   "It was a dumb way to go about it, and I'm sorry for it. I hope I didn't upset you too much." He concludes right after, turning to look upon her with an apologetic expression.   "Nah, it's cool! It's cool, Boss. Just wanted to make sure you weren't going Episode III Anakin Skywalker on us. Now come on, let's clear out the rest of the floor." She gives him a little push with her forearm before continuing on.   "Righteous." A term he speaks with a newfound grin curving his lips upward.   "Uh huh.    Yup.   You bet cha'!   You guys should totally follow me on Instagram @MayTricksO6. That's may as in 'may I', and tricks. T. R. I. C. K. S. Then the letter 'O', followed by the number six. You can find my Twitter handle and official YouTube page in my about me, too!" Down on street level, Matrix self-promotes her social presence while giving autographs and answering the simplest questions from the crowd standing behind the border of the perimeter. Though a tad peculiar to do at such a time, it was understandable to some degree. Monetization was a common motivation in the field of Samaritan (Or superheroism, as some prefer).   During, another hero begins descending from above. A figure clad in black with minuscule glimpses of silver, gliding down with outstretched arms and bent knees, being aided by the jet-black cloak puffing out behind him.    "Matrix." The hooded male in black -the solemn teen of the group- calls to her just after landing within a brief crouch. He rises to stand at his full height of 5'7. His lean figure is obscured almost entirely by his long draping cape. On his face, right over his eyes, is a mixture between a domino mask and a headband that hides most of his facial features. Purple oval-shaped lenses are what he's constantly looking through, and all anyone sees.   "Oh. The Suicide Boy returns." Matrix dismissively responds, signing one last autograph before she gives him her undivided attention.   "Matrix..." He nonchalantly repeats, unamused by her remark.   "Relax, relax. I'm just messin'. The boss is still on the top floor, and I think Alexecute may be up there, too."   "Any more apprehended culprits?"   "Hm. I don't think so. Haven't seen any more of them since the last handful Righteous Lad threw out for me to catch."   "I see. Then I'm heading up to-"   B O O O O M ! !   Before he can finish that statement, a roaring and fiery explosion erupts high above and over the building just as many pieces of shattered glass fall to the sidewalk. An accumulating mass of gray smoke begins spreading shortly after the visual of violent orange and red fades.   "WHAT... was THAT?" Matrix questions of no one in particular. Her associate and teammate goes from a wide-eyed expression, to glaring intensely at the upper floor, where another window had been broken.    "I'm going to need a boost."   A moment before the explosion...   T h u m p .   The last body of the armed militia guarding the office up ahead falls unconscious onto the floor after a flick from Righteous Lad's finger to the gunman's forehead. The long hallway is littered with over two dozen of them, as well as their dropped guns, by the time the two civil servant heroes finish taking them down.    "And that is the last of them." Tyson announces with a grin, dusting invisible filth off his hands in the midst of speaking.   "Yeah-" Alexecute pauses briefly and takes a moment to survey their surroundings.   "Yeah, that's definitely it. They're done."   "Time to greet the biggest fish of them all." He declares and begins treading forward with Alexecute tailing behind. Upon reaching a set of double doors, he reaches out to grab hold of the handles and simultaneously twist them with the utmost care. He pushes and pulls... All he manages to do is rattle the doors.   "Huh... it's locked."   "What?" His comment earns a curious glare from his teammate.   "It's locked."    "No, I- I heard you the first time. I'm just confused as to why that's a problem... for YOU."   "It just seems kind of rude to ruin a pair of perfectly good looking doors like these, you know? You think... they'll open them willingly if we ask?"   "Are you serious right now!?"   "I just want to be considerate, is all. A smashed office door just seems inconvenient for a businessman. There's also property damage..."   "You're actually serious... I can't- Dude, open the gosh darn door!"   "Okay-okay. Just let me try to be a little careful here. Maybe I can get it open without totally ruining them."   "NOW, Mr. Canadian Nice." Alexecute presses with a scolding stare. Hands at her hips as she impatiently taps her right foot.   "Alright.." He responds softly and obliges her demand. He takes a moment to inhale, then exhale with a sigh. With an abrupt thrusting kick, he barges his way with a B L A M !   Sending one door falling three feet away onto the floor, while the other barely hangs on by its one intact and loose hinge. The two head inside the spacious room, coming to stand across from two masked men standing behind a desk. Their hostage, the owner of the building, sitting in his leather office chair with a pistol making contact with his temple.   "It's over. The rest of your accomplices are either apprehended or unconscious, so it's best to just give it up now." Righteous Lad informs them.   "And you think that foils our efforts up to this point? You have no clue what our motives are, boy. No IDEA what we're prepared to sacrifice for our cause." The thinner of two, the one holding the hostage at gunpoint, retorts with a strong French accent behind his voice. He also looks to his right to his partner before the two nod at one another.   "Alright, you got me there. What is your intent here, huh? Does it even matter? Is it worth it to be caught up in a situation like this and to have your life ruined?"   "Oh-ho-hooo.. More than worth it. What we'll accomplish in this lifetime will be felt through several generations to come."   "What are you even talking about?" Tyson's tone is nothing short of doubtful. However, a peculiar sound begins grazing his ears. Low and whirring. He looks toward the heavy set guy who's wearing a trench coat, and seems as if there was a faint gold light shining inside it.   "I'm talking about the end of this life you've grown so accustomed to." The gunman begins as he uses his free hand to grip at the hostage's four-wheel chair and brings him around to the front of the desk.   "Your patriotism, your values, your ideas, your native tongue, your fears, and even your wants will all be lost with you and the generation of today." The apparent leading head of the armed group goes on to explain. Though, Tyson finds himself only able to half pay attention. He was divided by the distraction of that growing whirring sound and the other talking, constantly shifting his eyes between the two.   "We will crush the horrendous surface that sits atop of a misguided foundation. And-"   "Hey, do you hear that?" Alexecute chimes in with a questioning scowl upon finally being able to hear that growing noise. It's also then Righteous Lad swiftly closes in on the heavy set accomplice with a sudden burst of speed, and pries open his trench coat. An illuminating shiny sphere of energy is what he sees floating at navel level of the man's body.   "Alex, handle that one for me." Is all he says before promptly grabbing the accomplice by his sweater and taking off, effortlessly shattering an office window before curving to fly upward above the building. He adjusts to use both hands to hold and bring the masked man up to eye-level while ascending.   "I don't know what you guys were intending to do, but you NEED to desist. It's not worth giving your life up over." Tyson tries to reason.   "I... I..! I don't need to do anything, you government pigeon!" Though briefly swept up in a moment of fear, the masked man eventually finds his voice and nerve. Suddenly, his entire body begins to radiate with energy under his clothes.   "What are you- "    B O O M !   Before Righteous Lad could finish that notion, the man within his grasp discharges that accumulated energy in the form of a powerful explosion that envelopes them both instantly.    "Holy Fishbuckets..." was all Alexecute could murmur out after collecting herself and moving toward the broken windows. The explosion had knocked all three of them down inside the office, and seeing what came to be right after was chilling. She could have been caught up within that fiery blaze. Possibly dead or in agonizing pain.    She squints at the massive cloud of smoke, pondering if that was even remotely enough to take out Righteous Lad. He was tough for sure, but she wasn't sure just how HOW tough he truly was.   "Aagh... That fat blubber of a fool. Why didn't he do that sooner?" The voice of the armed criminal draws her attention, and in time to see him recovering on the floor while rubbing at his temple. Just until he spots his gun on the floor nearby. By the time he reaches out to grip the handle, the heroine's boot comes stepping down onto the hollow end, pinning it in place.   "Hi again." She cheekily greets when he looks up. Then a swift soccer-kick to the chin follows up, knocking him out cold. "And good night." After dealing with him, she moves to check up on the hostage nearby.    During, another individual joins them - propelling like a human rocket, and immaculately losing his momentum just in time to enter through the opening where tall sheets of glass used to stand. His cape flapping as he lands within a crouch.   "Huh? Oh, it's just you, Crow." Alexecute comments after looking his way. Her attention settles back onto the older man sitting on the floor.   "Can you stand, sir?"   "Y-yeah, I think so."   "THE Crow." The teen corrects stoically.   "Huh?"   "It's THE Crow." He repeats as he begins examining the room. What catches his attention almost immediately is the desktop computer on the office desk, and what was displayed on screen. Behind his lenses, his eyes shift toward the tower below, where something even more curious awaits.   "Oh, come on... we all know the THE part doesn't really matter." She responds whilst helping the civilian up onto his feet.   "It actually does matter. I didn't choose the name just so people could butcher it, Alexecute." He retorts, now crouching to pluck an unusual black USB drive from a port. At the backside of it was a small tail-like antenna with two tiny flashing green lights at its split tips. His eyes narrow at the implication of its design.   "I'm just saying, it's normal for it to fall off. Happens all the time, to be honest. People won't always refer to you as The Crow. You're kind of meant to grow out of it." Alexecute rebuttals as she helps the building owner settle back into his seat.   "What are you even doing over there?"   "Investigating, of course. I think they were transferring data from this computer using this peculiar flash drive as a funnel device. A mini mobile server, of sorts." The Crow shares as he raises to stand again.   "By the way, where's Righteous Lad?"   "He's-"   "I'm here!" Swooping down to levitate right outside of the window is none other than the young divine himself, unscathed and holding the unharmed superhuman offender by his pits.    "You guys carry on and share your findings with the rest of us later. I'm going to see about getting this guy into a comfy indestructible cell. Catch ya soon!" And with that, he heads off into the city.   "And don't forget the guys in the hallway!!" He shouts out from afar.   "Something told me he'd be fine."   "Oh n-no... This is pretty bad. You said they were transferring data? That desktop had sensitive data on it... Schematics and private information! It could compromise not only my company, but my business partners, as well!" The company owner blurts out in horror.   "Then these guys definitely got what they wanted. How'd they even get this far up?" The Crow questions before slipping the flash drive into a pouch attached to his utility belt.   "I'm not sure. Security should have seen them!"   "Then this was an inside job. Whoever these guys are, they have reach and resources. Likely an ideological cult of some kind." The Crow nonchalantly reasons.   "Oh, definitely an ideological cult. I'm almost sure frenchie over there was ready to hand us a pamphlet about their exciting new vision for the world. Total drone for sure." Alexecute comments, moving to lean against the desk while folding her arms.   "Then we better get on top of this and take care of them a.s.a.p. We can likely interrogate that one for details about their organization. Though, I'll definitely do some digging if I have to in the meantime." template credit. 0 Comments  Report Post

10/03/2023 01:48 PM  Righteous Lad™ #0 Righteous Lad #0[Five years ago.] The door of the room swings open as a man in a suit and a clipboard in hand leads the way inside, flicking a light switch upward and revealing an awfully simple interior as he does. A table with a pair of chairs at opposite sides sits at the center, a light bulb hanging above, and what the young man following inside assumes to be a one-way viewing window. The mentioned latter looked to be at least a college freshman - standing nearly six foot tall, a head of shaggy hair, and wearing an attire with an obvious patriotic color scheme that consists of a white T-shirt with 'U.S.A' written in bold letters on the front, a red & blue thin open track jacket, blue jeans, white wristbands bearing a single red star, and a pair of worn, red converse high-top sneakers on his feet. You wouldn't guess it, but he even made sure to wear blue socks, too. "Have a seat, if you will." The interview requests as he proceeds to claim the seat closest to the window. The young man settles into the other. "Alright, so what's your deal here, kid? No mask or costume–" "But, this is my costume…" "I mean a real costume. You're wearing civilian clothes. You look like a mormon kid from the 70's. I bet you don't even swear, do you?" "...My mom doesn't like hearing it in the house, even if it's just on TV." "Yeah, I figured. You look like a momma's boy." "Oh, come on…" "Relax, kid. I'm just yanking your chain a bit. Get an idea of what kind of person you are. In all honesty, you seem like a good guy. Don't care for masks, by the way?" "I-I didn't… really think about using one. I saw–" "You saw big name heroes do it, and thought that you could do the same. I don't have to explain the importance of a secret identity to you, do I?" "No, I know the risks. I know." "And you still couldn't be bothered to at least wear a baseball cap and some shades?" "I thought I'd be fine. With my powers, I thought I could work around it." "Junior, you're underestimating just how gruesome this lifestyle can be. You get to help people and do other good things, yes. But you INEVITABLY piss off the most unpredictable people out in society. Some will screw with your personal life to get back at you, and some will do just for sh*ts and giggles. It's not always pretty out there, son." "Ah man, that sounds intense… I don't want to get my folks caught up in anything crazy…" "Yeah, so you better be serious about this. I won't tell you what to do, but just know that face scanning is a real thing and one of the leading causes of tragedy in this business. With that said, what can you do? What are your powers?" "I… I can burn stuff with my eyes, I can sort of fly - still getting used to it -, lift heavy stuff, see things from very far away, hear things far away, run really fast. Uuuhh.. Blue fire breath, freeze things that I touch, and… survive huge falls." "Huh? What kind of weird power set is that? You aren't taking experimental drugs, are you?" "What? No! My mom would be heartbroken if I started doing drugs. I know it sounds weird, but it's true. And… there's a really bizarre catch to them." "A catch, huh? What sort of catch?" "I can only fly and use my eye-zap power during the day, and my fire and ice powers at night." "That some kind of birth defect? Are your parents chimeras or something?" "No, no.. But.. Uuuhh.. Uhm. How do I put this without sounding weird?" "Kid, I've seen and heard plenty of weird stuff. You couldn't surprise me even if you wanted to." "All right, I'll just… I'll just say it, then. … I'm… a God." "Huh. Okay, I'll just dot down here that you're an egotistical mental case with a superiority complex." "I knew it was going to be taken that way… I should have just said Superhuman." "Relax, relax. It was a joke. It's not too common, but there are other 'divine' descendants who work in the business." "Oh, really?" "Yup. Captain Righteous is one of them." "You serious?" "Yup, very serious." "Man, that's gosh darn cool!" "Gosh Darn cool… Yeah, you definitely had a great upbringing. Never change, kid." "What, did I say something weird?" "No, not at all. Now, how tall are you? Guesstimates are fine." "Maybe… 5'11-ish? 5'11 and one half." "Alright. Green eyes, black hair, gender is male, and your Hero Moniker?" "Oh, it's Righteous Lad!" "That's really what you're going with, kid? You're going to take your chances riding the big guy's coattails?" "Yeah. I-I think it's different enough. I like the name." "Let's just hope he and his legal team think so too for your sake. Age?" "I'm nineteen." "Just nineteen? Thought you said you were a God earlier?" "I am. At least, that's what my birth mother told me… I believe her words." "Huh? Who exactly is your birth mother? Actually, who's your father, while you're at it?" "Uuuhh… The Sun God Apollo, and Hel, the Goddess of Death." "Wow. You're like the embodiment of Yin and Yang. Now, who are your adoptive parents?" "I… I don't really feel comfortable sharing their names." "Smart. Very smart, kid. How about your real name?" "My name? I guess my real name is technically Konnence." "...Konnence what?" "I don't think they gave me a last name. I don't even think THEY have last names." "Kid, there's no way you can be in the system without a last name. Don't you have a government name?" "Oh, yeah. It's Ty– wait. Should I really be telling you that?" "Good catch, good catch. A little sloppy revealing a few letters of your name, but good enough. Avoid doing that when you're on the job. Or else you may one day find your home infiltrated by killer ninja androids." "Killer Ninja Androids?" "Yup. Cold blooded sons of bitches. Once showed up to one guys' kid's birthday party… Turned it into a Punch Party if you get what I mean. Very tragic day. It's why secret identities are important." "Hmm. . ." "Date of birth?" "December 1st, 1979." "Alright. And occupation?" "...Do you actually need to know, or is that another trick question?" "Of course it is, kid. There may be hope for you yet as an official superhero. Do you prefer working alone, or are you willing to work with a team?" "I wouldn't mind working with a team. Sounds like it could be a fun and uplifting experience." "You say that now, but you really start to question the kinds of people that sign-up for this line of work. Gray areas mostly, but there's a pinch of 'em you sometimes have to stop and wonder about. Just choose your friends wisely, kid. And remember that you don't have to be a follower." "Oh. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, but it's hard to imagine people doing good and heroic things for the wrong reasons. I guess monetization could be an argument of morals." "Ah, you're aware people can be shallow at times. Good! You'll find the kind of crowd you can roll with in no time. Since we're on the subject, why don't you tell me YOUR reason for doing this." "I… want to prove something to myself and someone. I want to prove that I'm worthwhile and help those in need. I'm not entirely sure what else to do with my powers, so I'd thought saving people would be a good way to make use of them." "Self-worth dilemma, huh? Not a terrible motivation. You do seem genuine. Aaaand… that'll do it. We'll see about getting you put into the system, creating a separate record for your alter ego, and getting you an official Samaritan ID." "Oh, really? Righteous, man!" "Uhh– Just one thing though, kid. You either change your name or swap out a different color scheme. For branding sake. You don't want to end up being caught in someone else's shadow before you even begin. I'll even help you get a personalized costume made, but something has definitely got to give here." "Man… that's not as righteous as I thought…" . template credit. 0 Comments  Report Post

08/20/2023 04:28 PM  Righteous Lad: Olympian Bloodline 2 T H A C K !   Righteous Lad just barely raises his arms within a tight X-formation to block a strong blow from the hostile stranger who came looking for him - a hit that sends him soaring back for miles, crashing through a playground set before he manages to maneuver into a rolling backflip and begins skidding along concrete and grass. His right hand trying its best to get a grip and slow himself into a complete stop, eventually succeeding when he nears the sidewalk behind him. "This guy is strong…" The hero utters under his breath with a soft look of disbelief on his face. Just as he rises to stand at his full height again, he spots his adversary approaching. Advancing in a mad dash beyond any human or animal capability and kicking up thick clouds of dust in his wake.  "Tch! I can't let him keep me on the defensive!" And with those words and burning determination, Tyson abruptly kicks into a sprint of his own. Faster and within a blur that just couldn't be kept up with. The two meet at a center point, where Tyson claims the advantage and quickest strike - a lunging knee to the stomach that knocks the wind out of the other, who nearly goes limp. The only thing keeping the snow-white haired male from flying back is Tyson's sturdy grip on his shoulders. Releasing, his adversary winds up stumbling backwards while holding his midsection, and it's during that moment that Tyson moves forward via gliding with flight, allowing the soles of his boots to slide along solid ground again as he closes off the remaining distance with an uppercut. The other's chin shoots skyward upon impact of a thunderous DHOOOM! Not a strike he puts all of his effort into, but he's quick to deliver several more. T H M P! A left hook to the stomach. T H W A C K! A right right hook to the jaw.    Just as he's preparing to throw his next punch, he catches sight of his peculiar opponent wearing a teeth-bearing grin despite having his head jerked by a solid blow.  [ He's.. He's smiling? Am I holding back too much? ] The hero ponders to himself and hesitates for a split second. From merely tossing another halfhearted punch, he shifts to the intent of hitting the other young man with all of his might. A punch so strong, it cuts right through the air and leaves shreds of blurry lines in its trail. K R O O O O O M ! ! ! The contact causes the ground beneath their feet to fracture and crumble with the threat of caving into a 4 meter radius crater, the Shockwave travels far enough to blow paper whisking away into the wind, trash cans to fall over, windows of cars within a mile of the area to shatter instantly, and even send hats flying off people's heads.    However, the other doesn't budge an inch. Not only does he not even move a single step, but he's also caught the hero's fist within the palm of his hand. A sight that makes Tyson stare as if the very unthinkable just took place before his very eyes. "I put… NNNGH! I put everything behind that one!" Righteous Lad comments while attempting to pull his hand away. His efforts are to no avail.  "Hah-heheheh… That was your best shot, huh?" The other asks rhetorically while arching a brow in utter amusement. "Not even the black sheep of Apollo's kin has what it takes to challenge my strength. Though, that's not necessarily your fault… No, it's simply the way of life. You're either born weak or born blessed to be one of the strongest!" The male continues, suddenly applying a tighter grip that makes the hero grit his teeth in discomfort. "So, listen well, weakling. I am the son of Hercules, the strongest God to ever walk Mount Olympus. My name is Hurleon, the second strongest man to ever live and the greatest to ever bestow his undeniable presence to the world!!!" The prideful young man exclaims with excessive vigor as he squeezes even harder around Righteous Lad's hand.    "Aegh!?" That discomfort was genuinely beginning to hurt more than Tyson is willing to put up with. In an attempt to get loose, he takes a swing with his free hand, aiming for Hurleon's face. However, that fist too is caught in the very same fashion. His adversary applies more pressure and makes the hero take a reluctant knee while quaking behind struggling. [This guy is too freakin' strong!] Righteous Lad comments within his own thoughts. In the next moment, unable to do anything about it, Hurleon suddenly yanks him forward and seamlessly releases his hands finally, resulting in Tyson stumbling forward until his shoulder makes contact with the other's middle.  "Prepare yourself, son of Apollo!" Without more than a second of delay, the absurdly strong foe wraps and locks his arms around Tyson's waist, effortlessly lifts up into a suspending sitting position, and delivers a devastating powerbomb that violently shakes the ground. Quaking that could be felt for who knows how many miles around, and not only that, but the ground gives out into a massive crater seven feet deep and 24 meters in radius. There's barely anything left of the park after that destructive slam.   Nearby, within a 24 story tall hotel, a certain blonde stirs awake from the commotion. Yawning big and loud, she stretches her arms above her head while arching her back. "What's all that noise…?" She asks of no one in particular, presently lying atop of the counter in the kitchen of the private suite she snuck into. She rolls over to slip off and stand on her feet, knocking over several empty bottles of wine she downed last night. She didn't mind the loud cluttering too much, and the corpse she left in the master bedroom sure as heck couldn't mind, either. The hitwoman uses a gloved hand to wipe the sleepiness from her eyes as she travels toward the nearest window, military boots thumping along the wooden floor as she lazily saunters onward. The platinum blonde soon peels back the curtains, lifts the window, and leans out to take a look. Turning to her left first, seeing nothing of interest, then to her right, where she sees two beings in the distance within a massive uneven ground of dirt. Fighting, no less. She squints, wondering if they were truly the source behind all the ruckus. "What in blue milly hills is going on over there?" Hardy utters as the breeze coming in stir her thigh-length Dutch braids just enough to cause them to sway a bit.   Back at the fight between the two men, Hurleon follows up a soccer kick after slamming the hero down into an awkward position of bending in half, sending him violently slamming into the side of a parked van.  "Ta'HUAK!" Tyson grunts when his back meets the vehicle, then ends up sitting within a forward leaning slouch. [No way this guy is this strong… I.. I actually felt those. He actually hurt me…] Tyson observes within his own mind before looking up, seeing beyond the raven tufts of hair hanging in his face that the male was approaching in a casual fashion.  [But I can't give up now… I have to keep fighting and beat him somehow.] Righteous Lad reasons with himself and begins climbing back up onto his feet. "So you're still well off enough to keep going, then?" Hurleon smugly questions upon seeing the hero rise again. Coming to stop seven feet away, tilting his head back snobbishly as he grins. "Ready when you are." A firm answer, along with a scowl of determination, is given from the hero. Hurleon's lips flat line stoically and he lowers his before his brows adopt a frown of their own. "Then show me your worth!" Roaring those words, the two then lunge at one another. However, Righteous Lad allows the other to take priority. When the other takes a swing, he sways out of the path of the incoming fist with a lean to the side. Nearly just as he does, he grabs onto the male's forearm, carries him upward a dozen feet, and transitions into spinning. Tyson builds and builds on his speed until a whirlwind - no, until a thin tornado takes shape around him before he tosses his foe away like a rocket taking off for the stars. Sending Hurleon screaming into the distance.  [Take. Him. Down!!!] Tyson barks at himself within his own mind. Hands clenching into tight fists, the hero takes off in the next second at light speed while leaving behind a sonic boom. He catches up with his adversary with ease and delivers a swift, yet powerful blow that abruptly shifts Hurleon's momentum into a doward fall. Taking off with another sonic boom, Righteous Lad swoops down to strike with a just as powerful hook that sends the other soaring horizontal now. Another burst of speed and the hero delivers another punch, but this time from the opposite side.  KROOOM! KROOOM! KROOOM! Several more heavy hits ping-pong the flightless being within the air. Tyson decides to end his assault with his strongest attack yet. A double hand hammer strike that clears away the clouds upon that explosive impact and gives his adversary a taste of what it's like to move at light speed. Straight for the sandy beach below. D H O O O O O O O M ! ! ! A massive mushroom-shape sand cloud rises up from below and reaches beyond the altitude Righteous Lad hovers at. A look of concern bleeds into his scowling features as he hopes he didn't go overboard. He couldn't see much pass the rainfall of sand, but his answer comes in the form of liquid tendrils snapping up to wrap around his ankles and drag him down until he's slamming onto the sandy surface below, as well. While waving descending sand out of his face, Righteous Lad sits up and soon gets a visual of what did such a thing to him. Standing ten feet away is none other than Hurleon, cracking his knuckles one set after the other while a dozen tendrils from the very ocean itself sway in anticipation behind him. "You've got to be kidding me…" Righteous Lad utters under his breath.   "That was quite the display you put on. You've got more fight in you than I thought! But now we do this back on the ground… I won't fall for that again!" Hurleon declares before lunging forward to drop a ground pounding punch atop of the hero. Tyson rolls out of the way moments before the other lands, and gets back on his feet. Both men refuse to allow the other to turn the momentum in their and charge each down for a slug fest. The first from both results in their fists colliding with a powerful shockwave, then the two take turns throwing more fists. The second from Tyson misses by way of Hurleon weaving his head out of the way, then the tanned male takes his turn with a straight jab aiming for the face. Righteous Lad blocks it with an X-formation of his arms and then throws a right hook for the other's jaw - an attempt cut short when Hurleon raises his left forearm diagonally to block it, then retaliates with another straight with his right fist. Or so Tyson thought… Just as the hero raises his arms to block his face again, his opponent reveals his attack to be a faint. A trick to fool Tyson before using his left to deliver a gut punch. The hit knocks the wind out of him and his guard drops, opening him up for a TRUE straight right that roars with an explosive impact and causes the hero's head to jerk back.  [Man, that kind of hurt!] Righteous Lad notes, but there was no time to think about pain. Hurleon steps forward to throw another punch, and in his desperation, Righteous Lad throws one of his own, as well. The two men both land their punch on one another, but it's nothing that linger on at all. The two go right back to measuring up their mettle in a bare knuckle exchange. This time however, Righteous Lad focuses more on counterattacking for a bit. Focusing on his vision and adjusting to fight in place using light-speed, it begins appearing as if they're attacking simultaneously, but there's a half a second difference. Hurleon gives a straight again, Tyson ducks while dishing a jab to the stomach. Hurleon throws a left hook next, and Tyson sways out of the way while whipping out a hard right hook to the kidney. Hurleon goes for a turning backfist for the hero's face, and Tyson avoids it by ducking and throwing out an upward left jab to the chin. Upon stunning his opponent enough to take a step back, Righteous Lad takes lead and pours it on relentlessly. He circles Hurleon at a speed that renders him 'invisible' and throws a myriad of punches like a machine gun, hitting all over the other's body. It gets to a point where it seems like all Hurleon can do is raise his arms to block his face. However, the only thing accumulating is his level of annoyance, not pain.   "What… AN ABSOLUTE INSECT!!" Hurleon shouts in frustration, gesturing with an aggressive beckon of his hand to call upon the ocean itself. At his command an abrupt large wave comes crashing onto the shore and flopping onto them with a sizable splash. It's all it takes to throw Righteous Lad off enough to stop in his tracks. An opening Hurleon takes despite being just as stopping wet, hitting the off-guard hero with a thunderous blow to the jaw. "I'm not going to let you get away this time!" He exclaims and makes certain to stomp his foot down atop of the hero's to pin his footing in place.  Forced to engage in a straightforward fight again, Tyson does his best to get familiar with the pace. Alas, this time the tanned- skin male is giving an onslaught. Tyson's initial response is to guard his face as much as he could, but that soon changes. [Don't go on defense… don't go defense, don't go on defense!] Tyson shouts at himself and decides to go blow for blow with the other. A grave mistake on his part. He blocks one last punch and then lowers his arms to take a swing of his own. He connects, but it doesn't do anything beyond briefly forcing Hurleon's head to turn from the momentum of his fist. Then he takes a blow to the face. Tyson throws another - a much harder one - but it has the same effect as before. An incoming punch connects with his own face, and it too was harder. Tyson tries again and this time holds nothing back. He winds up trading with an even stronger punch that rocks him into a daze.  [This guy…] Another devastating punch lands on Tyson. For a second, everything goes black and all function of his body leaves him. What gives it back and returns light to his eyes is yet another blow to the face. [A monster… He's a freaking monster!] Suddenly, Righteous Lad becomes a punching bag and it becomes difficult to tell up from down, and for the world to stop spinning. After half a dozen consecutive blows, Hurleon gives his final 7th - the very one he pours all of his might and weight into - and sends Righteous Lad flying with a booming contact that resembles lightning of dark and heavy stormy weather striking the earth.  Righteous Lad flies like a missile from a beach in Hawaii and all the way back to Illinois, coincidentally winding back where the fight began. Smashing into the side of a building before gravity pulls his limp body down to collapse onto the sidewalk below - the peers of Hurleon laying witness to the display.  "Maaaan. He's really roughing that guy up, huh?" A male from the group comments, though receives no response from the tall blonde beside him. Soon, Hurleon also returns to the scene by way of leaping miles upon miles, and lands nearby. Though, he wasn't the only one.  "Boss!" Alexecute cries out as she zips onto the scene with lingering traces of electricity buzzing around her body. Her presence draws the attention of the others, even the son of Hercules. "Get away from him!" She shouts, but just as she begins running toward her fallen comrade, Asclepius cuts her off and stands in her way. "Be calm… We didn't come here to kill him." The blonde calmly informs her. Behind him, Hurleon cracks a grin and resumes making his way over to Righteous Lad without further interruption. "What, you just came here to beat him senseless!?"   "No, that's not–"   "If you think for one second I'm just GOING TO STAND HERE AND DO NOTHING-" The heroine sharply cuts in while clenching her fists. Her eyes begin to glow while concentrated electricity begins sparking aggressively around her hands. Though, she too is interrupted. "It's over." Hurleon announces while holding Righteous Lad like a sack of potatoes in his right arm.  "...Over? You…" Alexecute struggles to speak the dreadful question, but she's given clarity right after. "He's still alive, mortal. And we finally have the evidence we were seeking." The tanned male informs as he approaches the two. Another smirk takes shape across his face. "Congratulations, Asclepius… It's an Olympian, alright." The male announces as he proceeds to hold Righteous Lad up by the back of his neck, allowing them to see the hero's bruised face and the trail of liquid gold running down from his nose. Asclepius and Alexecute both look upon the hero with wide eyes. "Is that…. His blood?" She questions.   "Gold. He does have the blood of an Olympian God." The blonde comments with a newfound frown settling onto his face.   "What exactly does that mean!? You came here JUST to see his blood-type?" Alexecute barks.   "I came here to confirm a suspicion of mine and discover the truth. And now… there's little doubt in my mind that this man really is my younger brother." The blonde answers solemnly. 0 Comments  Report Post

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