Sometime...in the distant future of 1985.
*Beep*
Hey, kiddo. It's me.
Varla and I were just thinkin' about you. Hope you're well.
Look, son, I know I wasn't...great. I could have been better. I know you're out there, kickin' butt. Makes me proud. But...I'd really like to see you again. Your bedroom is here. Keepin' it clean. The others boys and girls have been askin' about you too. If you find yourself 'round these parts, kid...well, come home. I miss you.
I love you.
*Beep*
----
A violet mist fell across the burned out walls of the castle. The ruins of Castle Di Sangro were said to be cursed, haunted--ever since the mysterious fire that broke out there in the 1960s. The locals avoided it. Those who knew better, those who knew of the Alchemists and their dealings, whispered about the ruins. There were legends, of dark experiments gone amok, that still roamed the forbidden dungeons and catacombs beneath the castle.
Hungry things, lurking in the dark.
That didn't seem to bother the tall, muscular man who walked through the wreckage and the ash. An owl, roosting the archway of a still-intact window, watched the intruder. He was big. Broad shoulder. A giant. If there were thing stirring in the dungeons, they would do well to avoid staling him.
Salim Netjeer approached the dais, drenched in moonlight, and smiled. "Been awhile," he said, to nobody. He looked around the broken castle, specially--the symbol carved into the floor, a snake swallowing its own tail.
"The Great Work," Salim said, taking to their stairs. "Is that what they hoped to accomplish here? Should know better than to try and change the world too quickly. Heh. Learnt that the hard way."
The tall man stood in the center of the circle. What he sought was here, still, surely. The Divine Chalices might now safely lay in Aradia's new vault--a joint jurisdiction of Aradia, the UN, and the Central Church.
Still, there were other artefacts yet beyond their knowledge.
The wind picked up, slightly. Overhead, Salim watched an owl take flight. "Hmm. Not here," he mumbled. He looked towards the rubble of the broken ballroom, where he'd saved Mr. Iron from Recida, some years back. How ironic--he'd rescued the man who ended up besting him. Time was funny like that. Not even the Eye of Osiris saw that one.
But the power to see the threads of the future were lost to Salim now--perhaps a divine punishment. Or maybe Mr. Iron's piledriver had blasted that part out of him.
So it didn't surprise Salim when he went to take a step and found that his foot was suddenly stuck to the ground. He looked at this leg.
No, not stuck. Frozen. Petrified.
Salim watched the wave spread across his body, from toe to head. He was slowly turning into stone. The stone circle around him glowed, dull. He should have seen it coming. He didn't.
He smiled. If he was going to turn to stone, then he should at least maintain a dashing pose, right?
The transformation was quick. Man one second, statue the next. The castle stood again, silent, for a moment, until the gentle sound of footsteps on granite interrupted the serene ruins.
The woman in black robes approached her work, admiring the handsome, stone man. She lowered her hood, letting fall ringlets of jet black. The middle-aged, she was ageless. A startling beauty.
The woman stood on her toes and placed her face close to the statue, kissing Salim's frozen lips. "My little Samuel was right to find you so attractive," the woman said, in a honey-soaked voice. "And Recida a fool for trying to make an alliance."
The woman twisted the snake bracelet--fabricated in the same image as the symbol on the ground--on her wrist. The eyes glowed blue, matching the aura emitting from the Alchemist. Not just an alchemist of course--a magi as well. The woman's glyph, Dynamis, burned brightly in the ruins, illuminating everything in ethereal light. She leaned forward, picked up the statue as if it was feather-weight, and slung it over her head, holding it high. She walked back from whence she came.
"Like mother, like son," she said, her musical laugh echoing off the stones.
---
*Beep*
[This is a secure voice message from the Office of the Director of Aradia's Department of Research and Defense. It is intended solely for the recipient, and will erase itself within one hour]
Hey Buck, it's Lil. Um...life's pretty weird, now, I guess. They made me director. Can't believe it. Still have nightmares about what happened here, but I'm getting better. It helps that I beefed up security.
Oh, and you won't believe it, Slayer is working as one of my agents. He's actually a really good guy. A bit scary about his sense of justice, but...I think he just needed something to protect. Putting people's strengths to where they're most useful. Something I learned from you spellbreakers.
On a lighter note, definitely loving 80s fashion more than the 60s! Music kicks butt. And it looks like spellbreaking is more popular than ever. I wanted to ask though...have you and Spike...er...patched things up yet? I know you were mad about him and Vahni.
Give him time, Bucky. He'll wake up and realize what he's missing. I won't tell anybody how you really feel about him of course. I won't break your kayfabe...or whatever you call it.
Anyways, that's what's up. So strange. The world has changed so much, but I remember everything that happened...
Too bad we missed out on the 70s, though. Disco looks like it would have been fun. Well, I gotta' go. Buck. I hope you're doing well. And...I don't care if you're the scariest heel since Vahni Rage...you BETTER call your dad soon, or I'm comin' after ya! Lova ya, bud.
*Beep*
-----
The long-haired, muscular babyface, struggled in Buck's iron grip as the man in black choked him, several inches off the canvas.
"B...Buck..." the trainee choked. "We....we're friends. Why ya' doing this?"
Outside the ring, watching with a cigar tucked between his lips, the masked Serpent took a long puff and smiled proudly.
Scruff ran along Buck's strong chin, a compliment to the tufts of trimmed, dark body hair across his chest. Months of training had turned Buck into a beast--six feet of lean muscle. Wild Buck wouldn't waste having to wash his signature gear during training; he wore all black today. Only his signature neck bandana, a good luck keepsake from his old friend and current nemesis (Spike), showcased to Serpent and the wide-eyed trainees that he knew his band.
Buck looked up at his trainee (what was his name again?) and smiled kindly. "You're doing, great, bud!"
For a moment, the jobber let out a sigh of relief.
Buck spiked him into the mat, slamming him down hard. The canvas shook. All the trainees winced. Serpent smiled, ear to ear.
"Ungggg...." the poor, broken body at Buck's feet tried to peel himself up. Buck pressed his bootheel on his neck.
"Get up," Buck said, coldly. "Get up, weakling." He took his boot up. "Do as your heel tells you."
"N...no..." the boy whimpered.
"Hmmm." Buck's eyes flashed green. A phantom rattlesnake, what the helpless trainee had mistook for a tattoo, uncurled from around Buck's bicep, slithering down his hand, and locking eyes with Buck's 'training dummy'. Its eyes glowed the same as its master, as it bore its fangs.
The beaten, young man's own eyes suddenly matched the glow. "Ye....yes..."
"Yes, what?" Buck said sweetly.
"Yes...m-m-master." The trainee's eyes watered as he got to his knees.
"Jefe, stop this," the other trainee seated next to Serpent pleased. "You know what happened to the last guy Buck did this to!"
Serpent merely held up his hand. Wait.
The long-haired jobber, weak on his knees, stood and faced his bewitcher. Buck lifted up his chin with his finger, forcing him to make eye contact. He patted his cheek, twice.
Everyone held their breath.
Buck shrugged, turned, and began to walk off. Then, he reached behind, jumped up, and brought his 'friend' down to the mat, slamming his neck into the mat.
"AGHHH!"
Serpent smiled, putting his cigar out on the floor. He yawned. "Someone get the medic, please."
Smirking, Buck dusted off his hands and exited the ring, looking back over his shoulder once to laugh at the broken, twitching jobber he'd wasted. "Anybody else want their neck broken today?" he asked, slipping through the ropes.
Serpent met him out back. Buck had skipped the shower, not wanting to run into the others, and was already dressed in his plain tee and jeans. He drank deeply from a water bottle, and gave Serpent a dark glare as he approached him.
"Problem?" Buck asked his father's old nemesis.
Serpent took the rudeness in stride. "Your animalistic abilities show great promise, hijo."
Buck shrugged. "Next time put me up against someone less weak. I need to sharpen my claws."
"Don't you worry, my wayward son. Training has only just begun."
"Good." Buck didn't have time for him. No matter where he trained, there was always some older man trying to tell him what to do. Serpent was a bit of a creep too. Still, Buck's father wasn't going to give him the training he needed. Colt would only hold him back.
"Spike pulled a rabbit out of his hat with Rage and King Anubis," Buck said, turning towards the dusty warehouse across from the training ring. The desert wind swept over Serpent's compound. "I need to make his defeat unquestionable. One sided."
Buck kicked his black cowboy boots into the dirt, punctuating his statement. He had nothing more to say to his coach. That'd do. Serpent, ever-patient, narrowed his eyes but said nothing. He'd learned how to best manage Buck. He was a tool that just needed more sharpening; the perfect weapon to turn against Colt.
When the time was right, of course.
Buck crept around the back of the warehouse, happy to be away from the others. At least the other guys and gals at the GSA had personality. Buck found himself missing them.
Then, he shook his head. He would not be weak. The GSA was dead and gone, as far as Buck was concerned. He was a spellbreaker without a league, and he preferred to keep it that way--a ronin, assassin, already making waves.
Grrr...
Buck's ears were keener now, ever since his glyph has awoken, granting him the gift of borrowing the claws, fangs, venom, pheromones, and blood-thirst of wild animals. It helped his hearing too. He picked up on the low growl, coming from his left.
A tarp ran the length over a stack of concrete tubes (this had been a construction site, til Serpent had moved his gang in an re-appropriated it). A shape at the back of one of the tube's caught Buck's attention.
He sniffed, tapping into one of the several 'beasts' he'd retained inside. The wolf. Whatever the creature, it smelled like canine. Coyote, maybe? No, a dog.
Buck drew closer to the concrete tube and knelt, sticking his hand out. "Hello?" He re-focused and drew from the power of the rattle-snake. Serpent had taught him how to use that one. It could beguile.
No, Buck decided. Stag. He instead released some of his pheromones, a more gentle way of influencing others. He didn't want to control the mind of the beast hiding inside the tube. It was obviously scared (Buck could smell fear). It just needed to know he wasn't something to fear (he wasn't).
The shadow slunk closer to the entrance, wary. Buck could see it now. It was a dog, and a rather large one. Black, with patches of gray. A mutt, with some aspects of husky. Might have even been a hybrid, some wolf or coyote in it. It had only one golden eye--the other was missing. A mostly mended gash was visible across its neck.
Buck's heart sunk. "Hey, boy. What happened?"
The dog bared its teeth at Buck and growled.
Poor thing had been injured; Buck hoped by way of other animal. Because if it was human, then that no-name jobber was going to get another friend in the emergency room tonight.
"Don't worry," Buck said, holding his hand out for the scared dog to sniff. "I may be sort of a bad guy, but I like animals more than humans. Won't hurt ya, bud."
The dog sniffed Buck. It was still wary. Smart, Buck thought. It's always good to be a little suspicious of others.
"Looks like you've been kicked around. I know the feeling, huh, outlaw."
The dog raised its head up and looked at Buck. You...aren't like the other ones.
The Glyph of Physis granted its host the ability to understand the natural world--but animals didn't 'speak' the same way humans did. Theirs was a world of instincts and emotions. It was easier, in many ways, to understand animals than humans.
This big guy here wouldn't bite him.
The young man removed the bandana around his neck and reached out. He knew he was safe. He needed to convince his new friend here that he was safe too. The dog lowered his head, allowing Buck to wrap the bandana around his neck, giving him some padding for his wound.
Buck leaned back. "Hey, looks real good on you!"
The weary animal laid down, tired, and allowed Buck to pet him.
"Yeah, you're good." Buck smiled. Finally, someone around here worth his time. "You wanna be my bud? I used to have a friend named Zeus, but he's back with...an annoying person I used to know." Hmm. You know, a mascot friend might not be so bad. Can I sic you on jobbers?" Buck laughed.
The dog raised his head and opened his mouth, letting his tongue out. Poor thing was missing a few teeth too.
"I'll feed them to ya, bud! HAHA, is that a 'yes'? You like the name 'Outlaw'?"
The dog suddenly sat up. Though it didn't growl, its attention was intent, focused somewhere behind Buck.
Buck stood and looked over his shoulder, towards the empty water tower on the compound. "Huh? What is it, boy?"
He sensed someone watching.
There. A shadow. The silhouette against the sun.
"Your new nemesis!" came the strong, cheerful voice.
Buck clenched his fists. "Spike!? That you? Quit being a dick and come down and face me like a real Spellbreaker!"
No, that couldn't be...
"GRRR! Don't even mention that name!"
Buck readied himself, Outlaw by his side. He waited and watched the shadow JUMP from the top of the tower. Buck's heart skipped a beat. Oh great, this chump is gonna' break his own damn legs before I get to!
The boy fell, and as he did, he became a fireball.
BOOM!
The spellbreaker slammed into the earth, 'super-hero pose' style, sending up a torrent of flame. Clad for a fight, in white, gold, and red, the colorful spellbreaker with the anime-boy hair removed his yellow, sharp goggles.
"Hey there!" His smile was infectious. "Sorry, were you expecting a sailor?"
The young man wore a flashy, fire-themed robe--just like the spellbreakers from Japan. Buck already assumed this punk was from Okami, the main fed over there.
"You some kinda' clown?" Buck spat.
The opposition grinned at him. "Better than Hot Topic cowboy, or whatever it is you're trying to pull off, emo boy." His robe became as flames, burning off his body--revealing a snug pair of white, gold/red flame patterned trunks with a phoenix emblazoned over the front.
A sexy clown, at least, Buck suddenly thought. Not bad. Very beat-up-able. He licked his lips. "An afternoon snack. Just what I wanted."
The tall, tan hero (who was very easy on the eyes) looked like he'd stepped out from one of the anime Buck and Spike used to watch together when they were high. The hero hunk pointed a finger at Buck. "I'm more meal than you can handle! And..and..." he stunned. "You'll get diabetes!"
An awkward silence passed. Mostly...because Buck was struggling to come up with something rude to say.
The evil cowboy scratched his head. "Er...the only one who is going to leave here with a medical condition is YOU. After I get done kicking your ass!" Buck clenched his fist. "You...you'll need a new ass!"
The challenger blinked, and blushed. "Oh. I mean. Huh. I guess we're both still new at trash talk." Then, his eyes shifted downward, to Outlaw. "Awww...what a cutie!"
Outlaw looked up at his new friend. Which one do you think he's talking about?
Buck spat. "HEY! PAY ATTENTION! You gotta' be a babyface loser. All bark, no bite."
Outlaw growled. Hey! I resent that remark.
The lean, fiery, and muscular spellbreaker made a quick gesture with his hands, almost like a dance, striking a pose. "Your reign of terror ends here, Buck Tamberly. For I am fire's champion!"
Buck blinked, jaw hanging open. "...Huh? What the hell?"
The hero did it again, with a flourish of flame. "The handsome, muscular guardian of justice. I'm Phoenix J!"
Buck said nothing. The newcomer said nothing. The desert wind carried a tumbleweed across their path.
Outlaw laid down next to his new friend, and yawned. What a loser.
"Yeah, I agree!" Buck snapped, shaking his fist at this red, white, and gold idiot. "I don't care who you are--or even IF you're kinda' sexy--I'LL KICK YOUR DAMN TEETH IN! FLAMER!"
"Dang, the boys didn't tell me you'd be this cute." The punk with the crazy hair and cute smile leered at him. "I'll still teach you a lesson! By the wings of the mighty phoenix, I will punish you!"
LAUGHING!? This...this fiery freak was LAUGHING? Buck growled. "Come over here and fight me, dude!"
Phoenix J shrugged. "Love the fighting spirit, Buck!" The hero ran his hand through his spikey hair, trailing flames. He looked him up and down, blushed, and smiled. "Looks like my ex has good taste, I'll give him that."
Buck blinked. "Ex!?" Does he mean...Spike?
Phoenix J walked up to Buck, without fear, and grabbed his hand--Buck was too shocked (and too knowing) to try and pull a fast-one on him.
And even he had to admit...this Phoenix J freak's smile...was kind of adorable.
"Heh." Phoenix scratched the side of his face, charmingly, blushing. "This future needs a new hero. Nice to meet ya...villain." He winked.
Buck lowered his head. Then, he smirked. "So you want a fight, flamer? You just got one."
That was the spirit.
Phoenix J flexed his muscle, the one bicep flex he taught his ex, Spike, years ago. "You got it, Wild Buck. Let's rumble!"
The End...
...For now.
No comments:
Post a Comment