Second String Heroes Episode 1.1

It was the time of day in the Northwest when the spring sun transitioned from late afternoon into evening. Everything was brightly lit, almost blindingly so. With the golden sun illuminating the tops of the evergreens and the quirky rows of houses in the northern part of the city. Cars were parked along the street with more arriving and leaving from moment to moment as people got home from work and went on their late day errands. Bicycles and people walking passed each other on the sidewalk, most waving or nodding hello in a friendly way.

 

 

 

*bing bong*

 

*knock, knock, knock*

 

More insistent, *Knock, Knock, Knock*

 

An older woman’s quavery voice comes distantly through the old wooden door. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” A brief while later she speaks again through the door “Who is it?”

 

“Poppy’s Pizza delivery ma’am.  You placed an order. For a...” The pizza delivery driver pauses a moment while he checks the receipt “A large extra cheese with pepperoni and mushrooms with the cheese glazed crust.”

 

“Oh you were so fast! I don’t have my money ready. Give me just a moment to go get it.”

He fakes a smile. “Well ma’am, under 30 minutes or it’s free.  I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

Standing in the late sun on the front porch the delivery driver begins to fidget impatiently, playing with the zipper on his black and blue armored leather motorcycle jacket. Tugging on the black bandana tied loosely around his neck. Removing and readjusting the bright red mesh baseball cap with the Poppy’s pizza logo on it, which happened to be a pizza with a slice out of it wearing a chef’s hat. Trying to polish the scuffs out of his over buckled mid-calf square toed boots on his blue jeans.

 

Off in the distance from the direction of downtown the sound of an explosion rumbled, momentarily startling the singing birds into silence. The driver glances back over his shoulder south towards the city’s downtown, becoming visibly more impatient at each passing moment.

He mutters under his breath as another rumble this time followed by a drawn out crashing sound erupts from downtown,” Come on, come on.”

 

The front door cracks open revealing the little old lady standing there with a tired old flower patterned purse.

 

“How much was it sweetie? My memory is not what it used to be.”

 

“Twelve eighty two with tax and delivery fee.” Holding out the receipt.

 

She cracked open her purse digs around and pulls out her wallet. Each motion taken with the infinite care of the elderly. After what feels like an eternity she pulls out 12 dollars in singles. “I have exact change in here, just let me find it.”

 

The explosions and rumblings are now joined by crashes. All of which seem to be increasing in pace and ferocity.

 

“50, 55, ooh a dime, 65, 68. Oh dear I don’t seem to have any more change.” She reaches back into her wallet and pulls out an additional 1 dollar bill. “Here you go young man. Keep the change.”

 

Calling “Thankyouverymuchma’amhaveaniceday.” over his shoulder as he stuffed the money in his company branded zippered change bag, he bolts for his car. The delivery driver pauses a moment to chuck the hat and the warming bag onto the back seat of his third hand blue, white and primer grey Ford Focus and guns it toward downtown Seattle.

 

 

5 minutes, 2 run red lights and a near miss with a taxicab later Crusader arrived at the scene of the battle and got out of his beat up car. He adjusted the black bandana that covered his lower face, tugged the chainmail coif into place over his mussed black hair, tucked it into his black and blue jacket and checked the seating of his enchanted sword in its belted scabbard.

 

He looked out over the street where his teammates were fighting for a moment, bolts of electricity, purple hued magic and the occasional chunk of shattered concrete flying through the air.

 

Crusader popped his knuckles and spoke “It’s time to get..” just as he was knocked down by a flying newspaper box.

 

 

Glancing over in the middle of the brawl Grande smiled slightly as Crusader’s car pulled up

And just as quickly frowned as he saw him crumple from the impact of the wayward newspaper box.

He looked over up and to his right. “Betony!” he shouted at the attractive young blond-haired woman hovering nearby “Crusader took a hit.” He pointed quickly at the prone figure. “Use your magic to help that Estúpido up, we weill probably need him!”

 Betony looked at where Grande was pointing and gave a pained sigh of a teenager who was told to clean her room or take out the trash. Chanting a quick spell under her breath she fired off a bolt of bright purple energy at the huge 4 legged robot that was advancing in her direction. As it staggered back into a near-by car she glided over to her prone companion, her long blond hair and white flowing gown streaming out behind her.

 

 “This fight is taking way too long. I still have to study for the biology test I have to take tomorrow.” She muttered to herself as she came to rest on the ground. Her sandaled feet landing in the grit and debris thrown up by the fight, next to the groggy hero.

 

Pulling out a curved bronze dagger with a handle made of a pair of twined snakes and taking a pinch of herbs from a leather belt pouch Betony began to chant in a language that was old when man first came to the British Isles. A pale purple cloud formed in front of her quickly enveloping Crusader who started to twitch slightly and groggily sat up.

 

“Uggh, what hit me?” He glanced up at the frowning blond druidess who gestured to the dented Seattle Times newspaper box. “Oh... Thanks B.” He blinked hard and shook his head trying to clear it. “Wait isn’t it a Thursday? Didn’t you say something last week about you having cheer practice and a math test tomorrow?”

 

“Duh” her tones frustrated “but it is biology and stuff. But robodork and electrojerk decided to hit the bank. And Grande being a ‘Grande sized Moron’ thought it would be a good idea for us to try to stop them before they did too much damage to Third Avenue. But with him crashing into everything, it is not going to happen as easy as he thought. And that pretty much kills all my study time tonight.” She completed with an eye roll.

Betony and Crusader looked toward the melee in the center of downtown Seattle that was continuing to erupt in front of the US Bank. A vaguely Victorian styled eight legged brass and steel crab centaur robot with highly polished brass and steel accents was using oversized pneumatic fists to try to pummel a short shirtless dark skinned man in a bright red and white luchador mask with slightly too tight matching pants. The short luchador dodged most of the attacks and appeared to be cursing in Spanish.  Every time it struck out at him and missed knocking divots into the city street, a cloud of steam would billow out from the pipe organ shaped pipes on the back of its shell and shoulders. It was a wheezing clanking bubbling loud mechanical monstrosity surrounded by a cloud of white foul smelling water vapor and smoke.

 

In another nearby part of the melee a tall blond bipedal female wolf in what looked like a leather bikini faced off against at a laughing man in an executioners hood with a glowing axe made out of yellow electricity. She bounded off of buildings, light poles and parked cars while dodging his attacks. The hooded man’s muscularly rippling arms stuck out of hit loose sleeveless shirt and had tattoos of stylized lightning bolts zig zagging all down them.

 

“B, who are those two?” Crusader asked as he stood up.

 

Looking at her smartphone Betony did a quick internet search.

 

“The guy with the axe is the Electrocutioner. He shoots lightning and can make weapons and whips out of energy. Other than his powers he is physically normal though. And not surprisingly a total nut job. He is wanted for multiple robberies and is a person of interest in a few murders in Southern California,”

She did a quick scan again. “And that big loud dork is Abominatron: The Steam Powered Terror. Seriously. That is its complete name. It is pretty much what it looks like a tough huge smelly robot that punches and shocks things.”

 

They looked at each other at the same moment. “Shocks things?”

 

At that moment a handful of hidden hatches popped open and a dozen Tesla coils of various sizes sprouted from its arms and back and began to hum, rising in pitch quickly. Arcs of energy ran between them like Jacob’s ladders accelerating in speed. A bright blue bolt of electricity shot out of its clenched fists slamming into Grande, throwing him four or five blocks through several parked cars.

“And so fall all who oppose the might of Abominatron: The Steam Powered Terror!” A harsh artificial voice proclaims from a brass grilled speaker mounted in the creature’s armored chest. Its arms ratcheted back into place and the low electric hum began to build again, abet at a slower pace.

 

“Ca … Grande!” A concerned cry escaped from the blond wolf woman as she turned and bolted toward the downed luchador.

“And we lost Tasha.” Crusader drew his sword and looked toward the robot “Looks like it is my turn at bat.”

“And it looks like you and I will have to hold off the electric twins until they get back.”

 

Natasha bound down the street at top speed, the shaggy blond hair on her head and body streaming out behind her. She was in such a rush that she sometimes used her arms to propel herself forward faster occasionally dropping onto all fours. In her flight she bounded off of whatever gave her the clearest path the pile of twisted metal that now housed Grande, be it walls, streetlights or even the occasional car. Her worry and concern for Grande made her push herself even harder than what she normally would. As she ran the breeze of her swift passing caused her nose to twitch as it picked up the scent of her singed fur. A reminder of several of the Electrocutioner’s near misses.

 

She cringed at the scent “Uggh, I hate the way my burnt hair smells. Especially with my wolf nose.”

But even then as she ran down the street the scent faded as her burns and singed fur healed and grew back with unnatural swiftness to its normal state before she finished her flight.

 

 The body in the mangled pile of cars lay there unmoving, but not from lack of trying. Grande struggled futilely at the jagged and bent shards of metal pinning him in place. Anyone else would be in extreme pain or life threatening danger, but not Grande, he was just mad. “Estúpido robot. He’s not allowed to have electricity too, just punching. That is cheating. How would he like it if I deid that too. I need electricity gloves or something. Si, that would be muy cool. I wonder who I can get some from. It shouldn’t be too hard, right?” As he tried to break free by struggling again, the knifelike edges of the twisted metal pieces press tighter against his legs. Leading to an unfortunate situation.

 

*riiip*

 

“Oh, no,no,no,no, no. Not my last pair of hero pants. I’ll never be able to match some new ones to the mask!”

 

The wolf woman catapulted herself off of a lamp post and landed next to the pile junked cars with a heavy thump. Her sensitive ears could hear swearing in Spanish coming from the bottom of the pile which caused her to sigh in relief. With grunts of exertion she began to bend back some of the metal, and throw the glass and plastic out of the way to free her trapped comrade.  As she got closer to him she called into the rubble, “Hold on Grande I am coming.” Her voice was a surprisingly feminine growl.

“Tasha, eis that you? Help me out of theis mess. I need to show that Estúpido robot who is boss. He has to learn that you can’t zap Grande into a few cars and get away with eit.”

 

A few moments passed as she worked her way down, chunks of metal and other debris clattering to the ground all around her. “Carlos why do you go after the big ones? You are only invulnerable. Not super strong.” She chuckled, “One of these times you are going to be knocked so far and buried so deep we will have to call Molareon to help dig you out.”

“It’s a machismo thing. A chica like you wouldn’t understand.” Grande tried to move again as his teammate pulled at the metal trapping him. “And you’d better not call Molareon; I hate that mole guy heis eyes creep me out.” The sounds of more metal bending and rivets popping “Be careful with that stuff I already have some tears in my hero pants. I don’t want to be on TV in my briefs!”

More sounds of metal bending. “I still can’t believe you call them hero pants. Call them part of your costume or something. “

 

With a final heave Natasha tore apart the last barrier of metal parts and opened up a wide enough gap to for Grande to get loose from his automotive iron maiden. He is greeted by a sloppy werewolf tongue across his mask. Grande sputters “Loca mujer loba now eis not the time for that. We need to get back to the action.”

 

As they begin sprinting back to the brawl Grande looks over to Sun Wolf with a thoughtful expression. “Do you happen to know anywhere I can get electric gloves?”