The Shit-Town Saga

New Agartha part 2

The Resurgence…

Tusk was hit by a volley of energy bolts from U’ntari soldiers before he leapt into the formation and began swinging his massive arms; the aliens who were not impaled by his massive spikes were sent flailing into the air. Behind him, Grandma Punch, Hellbender and other denizens of Agartha fought back against the wave.

“The Knight asked us to go to the front lines but he never came to the fight himself?,” Tusk roared, “What’s that shit all about?”

Nearby, Raphael and his Felidae Guard helped push back against the aliens. The cat-like guards fought using bladed weapons while Raphael launched empathetic attacks. As there was a lull in the battle, Raphael took the opportunity to respond to Tusk, “I know that man’s heart. If he isn’t here, then there must be a good reason,” he indicated the group gathered down the street, “Meanwhile, there are others who are fighting by our side.”

Tusk turned in the direction indicated and witnessed the armored hero Dragonfly alongside The Horseman and Gatorback taking on a U’ntari super soldier. Nearby, the strange heroes known as Canary and Jack Straw took on a platoon. Tusk snarled and continued to fight his way through the alien forces, “Why would I trust them any more than the Cavalier? We’re teaming-up against the aliens today but tomorrow’s gonna be different! Just watch!”

Now…

Bullets bounced off Tusk’s chest as he stomped through the doorway, “We knew you’d show up,” he roared as the SWAT team retreated outside the derelict apartment building, “We helped you fight off the aliens but that wasn’t enough, was it? You won’t let us live in peace. Come back again and there’s gonna be a war!” The team got into their armored vehicles and pulled away while Hot Mess hurled fireballs in their direction. As Tusk watched the police officers retreat, he crossed his arms in complete satisfaction. Above, Agarthans shouted jeers and threats from the windows.

Across town, Danny Slade arrived in an alley near Hudson Bay. There was history in that alley that stretched back to Colonialism but he never paid attention to the full story. A crude drawing of a scarecrow’s face was scribbled on the old, weathered brick wall. Danny awkwardly looked around before calling out, “Hey,… Straw Man. Ya here?” A gray mist emerged and the tall scarecrow appeared, still wearing the torn black cloak and hat that he always wore.

“Daniel Slade,” his voice was raspy and measures, “What brings you here?”

Danny always hated the way Jack Straw spoke as well as the abnormally deep voice, but he needed help, “I want to get a group together and make a concerted effort in helping the city,” Danny explained, “I wanted to see if you were interested.”

“Are you attempting to reinstate the Street Force?”

“No, the band’s not back together,” he said in exasperation, “Look, out of everyone on the team, you and me are the only ones still operating so I was just wondering if you wanted to help me out is all.”

“As you know, I am an agent against fear. I fight against dark forces in this world that threaten the innocent.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Danny groaned, “Maybe you wanna help out the needy? Do some charity work or something?”

“I am dedicated to fighting supernatural threats and I do not interfere in social matters.”

“Yeah, okay. Forget I asked,” Danny waved him off and left the alley, “Ooga-booga, ya creepy bastard.”

Underground, the Cavalier made his way through an abandoned subway station as curious eyes followed him. As he approached a large mound lit up with sparsely spaced lights, he was met by a lion-like man and a woman who resembled a snow leopard. The former was called Mane and the latter was Snow. He cautiously stopped once the Felidae Guards stood in his path, “I’m here to see Raphael.”

“I didn’t hear anything about that,” Mane snarled menacingly.

Nonplused, Cavalier responded, “Trust me. He’s gonna want to hear what I have to say.”

Soon, Cavalier was brought up to Raphael’s apartment which was littered with large bookshelves and kerosene lamps. Raphael sat on a desk, legs crossed while reading, and when he noticed the Cavalier entering, he calmly closed the book and hopped off, “Hello, Cav. I don’t have to be an empath to know something’s wrong. Your body language says it all.”

“I ran into some of your people on the surface. Apparently, Tusk’s gone into real estate. He’s putting his ‘Pure Bloods’ into abandoned buildings to live and it’s only a matter of time before the whole situation blows up. There’s already been a few altercations with the surface.”

“He has been… quiet recently,” Raphael folded his hands behind his back in contemplation, “He and many of his followers were last seen in the Deeper Tunnels in self-imposed exile, or so we thought. As you know, there’s been a great deal of conflict between Pure Bloods and Late Bloomers.”

“I understand that but now that fight’s going to the surface and we all know shit’s about to hit the fan. What can we do about it?”

“I wish I had done more to pacify Tusk and the others,” he answered regrettably, “If it’s all right with you, I’d like us to go to the surface together. Our first order of business should be to find all locations where Tusk’s followers are staying.”

“Fine by me. I know a good place to start,” Cavalier showed Raphael the message Commissioner Reins had sent earlier that day.

Soon, the two men found themselves positioned on a rooftop overlooking a dilapidated tenement building. “Do you have an idea of how many are in there?,” Cavalier asked.

“Far too many for us to make a move,” Raphael admitted, “There’s hostility and lingering fear. I assume the police have already been here. What else have you learned from Commissioner Reins?”

“I’m kind of a wanted man these days. He can’t directly communicate with me so any contact is brief and on the DL. I have no idea what’s been going on or what the cops plan to do next.”

“You said you found Grandma Punch and Hellbender in another part of the city. We could get some information from them.”

“Chances are, ‘Bendy and Punchy’ packed-up after our fight so there’s no use going back there. We can ask around and find some other hiding spots, though,” he thought to himself for a minute, “I know of one guy we can talk to and I know where he works, but unfortunately, I’m not allowed inside,” he pointed to Raphael, “You shouldn’t have any problems, though.”

“Who do you have in mind?”

“Old friend of yours.”

The Broken Sword bar was a known hang-out for criminals, particularly super villains. The agreement was that no ‘business’ was allowed on the premises while law enforcement and superheroes were banned from doing the same. To enforce these rules, the metahuman known as Blockhead was hired as a bouncer. Due to his immense strength and durability, he was the logical choice to keep the peace in a place where drunk metahumans might cause trouble in various ways – such as demanding to be served while refusing to settle their tabs.

The Desolation Brothers, better-known individually as Roughneck and A-Tack, weren’t real brothers, as evident by the fact that the former was Filipino and the latter was African-American. They were tag team partners in an underground metahuman fighting circuit that operated in the 90s and 00s. As was often the case at the time, Power Grid provided several fighters with Neutronium, resulting in the two men gaining muscle where none would normally exist in the human body. The fighting circuit eventually died off and the Desolation Brothers found themselves doing odd jobs; when business wasn’t great, they had a habit of not paying for drinks.

“It’s real simple,” Blockhead told the two men as they squared off behind the bar, “Come back when you have money. Take this any farther and it’s on you.”

Roughneck was the first to attack, his level of intoxication making him just aggressive enough to be a threat but not so drunk that it threw off his balance. “We said we’re good for it!,” he charged at the bouncer with a readied haymaker.

Blockhead caught Roughneck’s fist, casually palming thousands of pounds of force, “Remember, this is on you.”

A-Track, who was in a similar state of drunken aggression, rushed forward to assist his partner. Blockhead pushed Roughneck’s fist to the side, forcing him into a backward swing that connected with his partner. When A-Tack took the unexpected hit, he stopped to pinch his bloody nose while his eyes watered, “Gawd damn, blud!”

Roughneck apologetically tended to his partner, “Aw, shit! Sorry, bruh.” A-Tack brushed him off and advanced once more with a flying kick. Blockhead caught his heel, then raised both arms, sending his opponent into a wild backflip. A-Tack’s food landed on the top of Roughneck’s head with enough force that it dropped him to the pavement, leaving a small crack. As the two men picked themselves off the ground, Blockhead grabbed both of them and slammed their heads together like a Three Stooges bit. They then fell in an unconscious in the dirty alley.

When Blockhead turned to go back inside the bar, he noticed the Cavalier in the shadows, his black cape draped along his shoulders, nearly camouflaging him against the darkness. “Aw, shit,” Blockhead placed his hands on his hips, “Last time a guy wearing that suit showed up here, I got jumped for no reason and the bar got a new name. I hope this isn’t some kinda tradition.” Michael was reminded of when his mother was killed and his father came to the bar asking for questions. It was a situation that earned it the name Broken Sword and led to the traumatic slaying of Springheel-Jack.

“That was a rough time for everyone, believe me,” he told Blockhead, “But I’m not looking for trouble.”

“You might end up finding it anyway.”

“Relax, I haven’t even tried to enter the building or anything. I just gave a ride to an old friend.”

Raphael emerged from the shadows next, which made Blackhead lower his defenses slightly, “Hey, man,” Blockhead’s demeanour became somewhat friendlier, “I’m okay with you coming here but we got strict rules about these guys,” he pointed to the Cavalier.

“I know. We’re here because some people from Agartha are claiming abandoned buildings in the city as their homes.”

“So what? They’re abandoned, right?”

“But it’s brought them into conflict with the police and we want to avoid bloodshed.”

Michael spoke up, “The 90’s Cavalier managed to convince the cops to let the Agarthans stay in the underground tunnels… The cops are gonna be less likely to take my side.”

“Not my problem.”

“You were given powers through illegal experimentation like many of us,” Raphael pleaded, “You almost lived with us permanently at one point, so I know you care about Agartha. If you’ve heard from any of them recently, tell us so we might help them before there’s further conflict.”

Blockhead furrowed his rocky brow in consideration before speaking, “So… My old buddy Archfiend shows up here sometimes,” he motioned to Raphael, “You know Archie, I’m sure. So, he’s been here with a couple friends, lately. I assumed they were from Agartha too since… y’know. Anyway, a few weeks ago, they got lit and started talking and getting excited about having a new place over in Little Italy. I thought it was weird they weren’t underground anymore but I didn’t ask any questions,” he shrugged his shoulders, “That’s all I know. No details other than that.”

“It helps,” Raphael told him, “Thank you.”

Cavalier flew Raphael to Little Italy in the Dragon, hoping to use his empathy powers to locate them. “I’m not a telepath,” Raphael explained, “But I can detect strong emotions shared by a group of people, particularly if it’s localized.”

As Cavalier flew, he turned his head slightly toward Raphael, “So if you don’t mind me asking, how did you develop powers? I remember Tusk once calling you a Late Bloomer, which means you weren’t… born this way.”

Raphael removed his shades, displaying his hollowed-out eyes which were void of flesh around the orbital sockets and contained empathetic energy inside, “I used to be a very violent man, taking what I wanted. When I learned about the Power Grid’s services, I decided I wanted superhuman abilities as well. As you know, safety wasn’t always a guarantee in those black market labs,” he replaced his glasses, “My deformity wasn’t as severe as others but being given empathetic powers was enough to open my eyes,” he smiled a bit, “… No pun intended.”

“I guess knowing what other people struggle with is a good way to mellow out,” Cavalier agreed, “So, are you picking anything up?”

Raphael tilted his head, “There are… maybe four people, all in close proximity… All angry… They’re moving in the same direction.”

“Which way?”

“Turn left.”

****

Commissioner Reins sat behind the desk in his office while District Attorney Chelsea Kassia sat across from him. “We’re lucky none of our men died while dealing with the Agarthans,” Reins told the DA, “If we’re going to take on entire buildings full of metahumans, we’ll need bigger guns and I think you know who I mean.”

“The order is to arrest the Cavalier on site,” she reminded him, “We’re not accepting help from a wanted vigilante,” she sighed, “But you’re right to say we need more muscle out there.”

“Gatorback’s still in good standing with the NYPD,” Reins offered, “I’m sure he’s up for it. Apparently, he’s been looking for ways to help out recently.”

“I was thinking something bigger. I want the mutants brought to heel as quickly possible with no chance to retaliate. I’m not abiding another warzone in my city.”

“Dragonfly? I can put in a call to the National Guard…”

“We’re law enforcement and if we’re gonna get help, it’ll be from other cops,” she stopped there and met Reins’s eyes.

“Other cops?,” Reins asked curiously and then the realization dawned on him and he perked up, “Oh…”

“I wanna contact Interpol. IMD,” she told him, “We need Badges here.”

“I think it’s a bit premature for that,” Reins explained, “We took care of this situation ourselves in the past, before the IMD was even formed. I’ll get Gatorback on the case and see if things calm down.”

“Okay but if he fails, we call the Badges.”

“Doesn’t seem like we’ll have much of a choice at that point.”

Continued…