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Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

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Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

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Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

Well there's a post up for anyone with a spare weekend with no obligations whatsoever to devote to reading something ridiculously overlength...

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

T H E H O M E O F H A N K P Y M & J A N E T V A N D Y N E

---

^{Present Day | Manhattan, New York}

Ted had woken up alone and fully dressed on his hotel bed after a night of drunken debauchery on the town in New York city with his good friend. A night which involved a lot of drunkenness, but minimal actual debauchery. None, if you’re looking for an exact number. His head had a dull ache and his mouth had been so full of fur he couldn’t be sure he hadn’t been licking rats.

It had been 5 AM and Ted had decided he could probably have a quick shower and then still have had enough time to walk to Hank and Jan’s complex. A brisk walk in the cool Manhattan morning air would probably be the best thing for his hangover, and he wasn’t wrong. Getting out of the shower he started to put on a shirt, before he remembered the tone of Hank’s original messages. He sighed, unbuttoned his shirt, before he went to his bag and took out his Blue Beetle suit, putting it on before he got dressed in a full suit over the top, just in case it took too much of his time prior to the Expo.

He had stepped out into the chill and immediately felt thankful for the added thermal layer of his other suit, before walking swiftly towards his friend’s home. He remembered the first time he’d been to the complex. “The complex” was the only suitable description for the place. The living quarters were in complete service the laboratory, almost as if to be an afterthought. And a less kind person than Ted might suggest that it was far from the only complex that Hank Pym had…

Last time Ted was here he had stayed a little late on Jan’s request. He could tell they seldom entertained, and she was clearly enjoying the fact that they had a visitor Hank actually liked and kept him sociable and out of the lab for a few extra hours of the day. Ted had gone to use the bathroom and sent his father a quick message that he wouldn’t be stopping over that night, because he’d been held up in New York. After washing his hands he’d passed Hank, and the squirrely blonde man jumped and made an expression like he’d just been caught.

He was struggling with the cap off a bottle of pills.

Ted had said “Do you need any help with that?” And that had only triggered more fear in Hank. He’d held the pill bottle behind him, as if to try and hide what Ted had clearly already seen.

“C’mon. I’ll open it for you.”

Hank had gone non-verbal from a massive anxiety spike, and held a clenched fist to the side of his head. He held the bottle out, almost in surrender. The fear on his face was palpable. Ted tried to break the tension with a joke.

“You’ve got a prescription for this, right? I’m not aiding and abetting you in using crank, or whizz, or fizz… Hank?”

Hank was still on a razor’s edge, but he seemed to be able to verbalize again, albeit in a limited capacity.

“Fizz..?”

“Yeah, you know how it is, Hank. All these kids out there these days… All hopped out of their gourds on... Fizz.” Ted smiled, with humour in his voice.

“No-- I-- I have got a prescription. PrescriptionS.”

“Well, good. You go get yourself some water, and I’ll crack this open for you.”

“Ok-- Okay.”

“People need pills, buddy. I’ll never think less of you for taking stuff you’ve got to take.”

Hank walked away to go and get himself a cup of water, whilst Ted looked down at the bottle. He applied the pressure to beat the childproofing and twisted the top off. He left the bottle of Lithium capsules on the counter and turned around.

Jan had been looking at him with a smile.

* * * * *

Ted got to the complex at 6:50 and waited out the front for a while. Hank had a thing about punctuality and tended to make a point of it if you arrived early or late when there was an agreed upon time. It was generally a lost cause to try and make it on the dot with whatever Hank’s own clock said the time was, but remembering the tone of the messages Ted decided to at least make a concerted effort to not start things off by agitating him.

A few minutes later he hit the buzzer.

“Hank, it’s Ted. I’m here.”

“It’s 6:58. I wasn’t-- Wasn’t expecting you until 7.”

“That’s OK. It’ll take me two minutes to make it up the driveway.”

“You’re early.” He said. Ted could hear some faint fast tapping in the background, before Hank shut the intercom off and buzzed him in, not expecting a response. So much for keeping him from being agitated, Ted thought as he pushed through the front gate. Ted took the opportunity to reset his watch to “Hank-Time” as he started the long walk.

Ted got to the front door and knocked.

The door suddenly burst open, taking Kord slightly by surprise, as his friend rushed through and hugged him.

“Whoa, Hey Hank. How’re you going?”

“Good. Good-good-good.” Hank said. “And it's good to see you, Ted. Thanks for coming.”

“That’s alright. Can we get off your porch though?”

“Oh. Sure. Sure-sure. Come on in. You want chai? Coffee? Soup? Ovaltine?”

The pair went inside and closed the door.

“Not… just yet. How’s things? You sounded like you had a problem. Where’s Jan?”

“Problem? Ah. Need help. Yes-yes. Sure.”

“And Jan?”

“Gone to work. Part of the problem.”

“Part of the problem? Oh shit. What have I got myself into..?” Ted thought to himself, thinking the Blue Beetle suit probably couldn’t help with… whatever the hell this problem was.

“I’m trying to fix everything. I’ve done it, but she’s bee-- She’s been touching my stuff. Can’t work. Chaos.”

“Chaos?”

“Things have been moving. Disappearing. Can’t work. I need my things-- I need everything where I put it. I HAVE A SYSTEM.” Suddenly he spoke considerably louder. Not yelling at anyone, or with a sense of outrage. Just louder. As if he were emphasising a point, but without the change in cadence that would normally join it.

“OK, Hank. You have a system. First thing’s first though, I have to use your bathroom. It’s been pretty cold out there, you understand?”

“Oh. Ok. Sure-sure-sure. I’ll be here. Want anything while you’re gone? Chai? Coffee--”

“No, Hank. Just the bathroom for now. Then we’ll see what we can do. ...With all of this.”

Ted walked down the hall to the bathroom. He locked the door behind him, sat on the seat and whipped his phone out. Firing a message to Jan.

“Is everything OK with you and Hank? He asked me to come here yesterday. I’m here now and he looks like he’s off his meds, he’s blaming you for wrecking his work. He said you’ve gone to work. Is everything alright?”

He hit send. Decided he did actually need to use the toilet, got off the seat and flipped the lid. He rocked his head back, which still had the dull ache and nausea of his hangover, and let the stream flow with his eyes shut. He got startled by the sound of the Star Trek intercom whistle and lost control of his stream somewhat, swearing in the process. He re-gathered himself, finished and dried off the splash zone, before pulling his phone out and seeing what Jan had to say.

“Wait...”

He cursed again at himself and the situation for making a mess over an unnecessary message. He quickly set his phone to vibrate and waited. He closed the lid and went to press the flush, before deciding to hold off in case Hank heard it and assumed he was done. He turned and sat down. Suddenly the phone erupted and he hit the button to receive.

“Hi.” He whispered.

“Hello. Where are you?”

“Bathroom.” Ted mumbled quietly.

“OK, well, he’s bee--”

“Ted, are you alright in there?” Hank suddenly asked from the other side of the door.

“Uh… Yeah. I’m OK. Kind of made a little bit of a mess.” He answered honestly.

“...you know how you asked me before if I wanted anything?”

“Yes. Chai? Coff--”

“Maybe we could have breakfast together. 7 o’ clock was pretty early, I didn’t grab anything to eat at the hotel before I left.”

There was an uncomfortable pause for a few seconds whilst Hank considered this.

“Hotel?”

“Yeah. For the Expo. All the plans get organized in advance through the company. I’ve been staying at a pretty fancy place uptown. But I didn’t leave myself enough time to get anything to eat before I came here.”

The pause was much shorter this time.

“Ah. OK. Cereal?”

“Ah, no!” Ted quickly responded. “Have you got any bacon and eggs?” Ted quickly started to scramble thinking for breakfast items that would take longer to cook and keep him busy during the phone call. “And waffles? Maybe some french toast if you don’t have waffles?”

Hank considered this. “Is that-- is it usual for that? I thought it was only customary to offer tea or coffee or some kind of beverage.”

“Well, we’re pretty close friends, Hank. And I haven’t had breakfast this morning… and you keep yourself pretty busy in that lab, so I’m assuming you haven’t had breakfast either…”

“I haven’t had breakfast either. I don’t often ha--”

“Yeah, see. We’re close good friends, and neither of us have had breakfast yet. Social norms that’s pretty regular. Above board and usual. All of that.”

“Hmm!” Hank replied, somewhat pleased, having formed a new conclusion about his understood social norms. “Ok. I think we have eggs. Probably bacon. I don’t know about waffles…”

“If there’s no waffles, that’s ok!” Ted called back. “You know how to make french toast?” Ted called back, trying to make sure Hank wouldn’t return to inform him of the household’s groceries list.

“Uhh…” Hank pondered, reluctant to try something new and foreign.

“French toast is easy. You crack some eggs. Whisk them all together. Dip bread in the egg on both sides and fry it. I’ll sort out everything in here, and then I’ll see how you’re going in the kitchen, yeah?”

“OK. Bread in eggs, fried, if no waffles. Sounds easy enough. I’ll get started.”

“OK, Hank! Catch you in a bit!” Ted yelled as he heard Hank walking away from the door.

Ted leaned into his phone with his eyes shut. None of this was comfortable.

“Are you there?”

“Yes. As I was saying, he’s been off the rails lately. I was going to suggest you go home. He often gets a bit obsessed when he’s working on something really big, but I’ve never seen him like this before. He won’t take his medication. He lashes out sometimes.”

“He-- he hasn’t hit you, has he?”

“No, no. Verbally. He’s never done anything like that. He’s only just been off his pills recently…” Ted nodded, as if she could see him. “...I feel guilty. I’ve been leaving earlier for work, because I don’t really know what to do. But at the same time, he’s off his pills and…”

“...and you know he probably shouldn’t be left alone off his meds. So, guilt. I get it. Alright. Well, how far away are you?”

“I can be home in about 30 minutes.” Ted heard her sniff. He suspected she had been crying over this, if not over the past few days, then at least was fighting it off now.

“Well, I’m going to try and get him to take his pills. And then, if I know Hank he’s probably gone into overdrive and made more bacon, eggs and french toast than he and I could possibly eat between the two of us…” Jan chuckled on her end of the line. “...and we’ll all have breakfast and talk this thing out. And it won’t just be you then. OK?”

“OK, Ted. Thanks.”

“Good.” He replied.

“Oh and Ted…”

“Yes?”

“Mr Clean is under the sink. Please don’t leave my bathroom a mess.” He could hear her smiling as she hung up.

Ted looked down at his phone.

BWAH-HA-HA-HA-HA!

* * * * *

“Hey Hank! All sorted in there. How’s everything going in here?”

Ted walked in the kitchen and realized he should probably have told Hank how he likes his eggs. There was a plate waiting loaded with eggs every which way but loose, and an empty carton which previously held 18. He was working on the bacon now, and had a loaf of bread on standby for when he finished this task. Like the eggs, the bacon was being cooked and organized in various levels of crispiness.

“Buddy, we’ll just set this to simmer, and you can go take your pills for the morning.” Ted said, turning down the burner.

Hank furrowed his brow.

“I don’t know. They-- they make things dull and fuzzy. They hurt my work.”

“Well, at the moment your work seems to be cooking all of the bacon, eggs and toast on Earth… so I think we could probably stand to shift down a gear.”

Hank thought about this.

“Besides, since I’ve gotten here you’ve been speaking a mile a minute. What’s going to help you more. Having to explain everything to me 4 or 5 times because I can’t keep up, or your pills? You’ve done fantastic work on your pills in the past. And you wanted me here, so you clearly want me to hear something.”

“You’re right.” Hank agreed. “Don’t-- don’t start on the french toast without me.”

“I won’t. I’ll just finish the bacon, then I’ll wait for you. You said you’ve never made it before. You take your meds and we’ll both make the french toast. It’ll take a while for the pan to heat up again, anyway.”

* * * * *

The pair put the fourth slice of french toast that passed Hank’s “golden brown” metric on the plate…

...which made for 14 slices of french toast total.

“So we’re done!” Ted exclaimed, as Hank smiled. They carried the plates over to the table just as Jan got home. Hank stopped and looked at her.

“Hi, Hank. I told work I’d be taking a home day. It’s my name on the door, they can last a day without me.”

“Ha!” Ted chimed in. “I say the same thing.”

“You called her.” Hank said, his face screwed up in displeasure.

“I did. No way we can eat all of this alone--”

“Don’t.” Hank cut him short. “You called her before we finished. The time doesn’t work out otherwise.” He exhaled quickly through his nose, realising he’d figured it out. “From the bathroom. You never made a mess in there at all.”

“Actually, I did.” He said to Hank, before turning to Janet. “Again… sorry, but yeah, the Mr Clean did the trick…” Back to Hank. “But yes, I called her from the bathroom.”

“Why?” He glowered.

“Because you’re my friend and I worry about you, and I figured if I was worried then Jan probably would be too.”

“I have been worried too, Hank.”

Hank stood sullen, before Ted broke the silence.

“Anyway, the food’s going cold. Can we eat and talk?” He pulled out a chair for himself.

* * * * *

The three sat eating and talking. Ted and Janet had been explaining their concerns to Hank, who mostly ate and listened.

“You get more and more obsessed on your work, and it’s a cycle, Hank. You start, then the obsession builds, then everything else comes second, then you miss your pills for a cycle because you’re so busy, then you decide your pills make it harder to do the work so you stop taking them, and then you become someone else. And someone who it’s very hard to live with, Hank.”

“Well, I finished now…” Hank justified.

“You finished?” Ted interrupted. “Wait, you actually finished. You ‘fixed everything’?”

“Yes. That’s what I was telling you before. I was up all night last night working, and I did it. I fixed everything.”

“What exactly do you mean, ‘fixed everything’?”

“The answer to everything. Poverty, hunger, shortage. Resource shortages. Probably greenhouse gas emissions too, with carbon trading probably even better than my nanite clouds to repair the upper atmosphere.”

“But… how?”

“Come look.” Hank said. The three got up from their table and walked to Hank’s lab.

Hank’s laboratory overwhelmed the complex, it was a brief walk through the living quarters and took up the vast bulk of the grounds. The trio were soon there, looking at Hank’s recent works.

“I worked all night, but finally I finished. The first four samples. Some testing is still required, but the mathematics checks out, Ted. And you know what it means when my math is sound…”

Hank put a helmet on and activated it.

“I took extra care with protecting my work, since Jan has been moving my stuff.” He said sullenly. Soon a slow moving stream of ants crawled out from a colony set in a transparent ant-farm wall and traversed the floor, going under a large set of shelves on the other side of the room.

“What in the name of..?”

“It’s the helmet. My own design.” Hank said, as if it were enough to explain what they were seeing.

“You can talk to ants?”

“Talk? No. Ants lives are not such that we could really comprehend. They communicate various basic commands via pheromones. Go here. Food. Predator. Rival colony. Dead to be removed…”

“Pheromones…” Ted muttered to himself, but apparently too loudly.

“Well, yes. But that would be too complex. We don’t understand scent that well as a species, Ted. What the helmet ACTUALLY does is tap into the electromagnetic wavelength that the ants sensors utilize and send messages to their major nerve center. Cut out the middleman. Forget scent, pheromones and chemical sensor readings. Straight to command.”

“So no, Ted. I can’t talk to ants. I command them. With the helmet.”

“This is amazing in and of itself, Hank!”

“Is it?” He asked, swivelling back in his chair again. “It has very limited practical use, I’d have thought. But it does come in handy when working with small tech… or hiding my recent work.”

The ants returned bringing back a test tube rack that barely fit under the shelves with three vials inside.

“There! She’s been touching my stuff again!” Hank cried. “What did I tell you! There’s supposed to be FOUR!”

“Me?! But how? I didn’t even know it was there.”

“I don’t think this was Jan, Hank. You just said it yourself before. You’ve been working all nighters, and Jan’s been leaving early for work. There wouldn’t have been any time between when you finished and she left.”

“But wh--”

“Lang.” Jan said, looking at Hank. “I know you’re not going to want to believe it Hank, but this has to have been Scott.”

“Who’s that?”

“We hire cleaners through Red Ant, but Hank likes to stick with people he knows. He met Scott and he always seemed like a very nice guy. But he did have a past. His background check did reveal a criminal record and he has served time for burglary.”

“Scott..?” Hank said glumly.

“Well, we probably can’t do anything about him right now, unless he’s at a Red Ant facility..?” Ted supposed, “No, the complex is a special separate assignment. We wouldn’t see him again until his next shift.”

“That’s what I thought. But what we can do is find out if what he stole is likely to work, or if it’s potentially dangerous. How exactly does it work, Hank?”

“The-- they’re a new particle I discovered, which are capable of traversing between dimensions and carting mass. Using these I should potentially be able to grow - or hypothetically shrink - different objects by increasing or decreasing the space within molecules and shunting missing or surplus matter across dimensional lines as required.”

“Hank… that sounds a lot like you’re telling me that you can grow and shrink virtually any object infinitely or infinitesimally” Ted said, rubbing his head, “--which I would tell you is impossible and insane if it weren’t for the fact that you had what you claim is the means to doing just that brought to you by ants that you can apparently talk to.”

“Comm--”

“‘Command’, yes Hank. I’ve got that. Thank you.”

“Well, I guess we have to test it on something. Any ideas?” Janet asked.

“I think we have to jump straight for the worst case scenario.” Said Ted. “Organic material. What if he uses it on himself? So who else says we get to making some bigass bacon? I’ll go get the plate…” Ted went back to the kitchen and left the husband and wife alone together.

Hank looked down at his shoes. “I’m sorry I blamed you for touching my stuff.”

“It’s more than that, Hank. You scare me when you get like that. I get scared because I don’t know what you’re going to do. I get scared because I don’t know if you could do something so bad that I wouldn’t love you anymore. And I get scared because of the thought that something could happen that might make me not love you anymore. I need you to take your medication. Everything else, we’ll be able to get though. But when you don’t, you get-- you wind up in places where I worry I can’t even reach you.”

“Ok. You’re right. I’ll-- I’ll make sure I take my meds. In fact--” Hank smiled. “In fact, I think I might start working on something, something that I think might be able to help me with keeping organised and on top of things like that...”

“Ok. Humongous ham, bigass bacon, prodigious prosciutto, Comin’ right up!” Ted said, as he returned with the plate of bacon.

“You already used ‘Bigass bacon’.”

“Well, I’m proud of that one…” Ted replied. “Now where do you want this?”

“I’ll have that.” Hank said, taking the plate and setting it down near a large device.

“This is a particle projector. It’s one of a few devices I created to infuse the particles into an object…” He said to Ted, pushing in a vial of his special particles, before sneaking Jan a worried look.

“‘A particle’… ‘The particles’. I think it’s about time we stopped pulling punches and name them what they are Hank. Pym Particles. After their discoverer. The alliteration alone makes it...”

“Scien--”

“‘Science is it’s own reward’. ‘We don’t get into science for the honours and naming rights, but to further the quality of’ blahblahblah I’ve heard you say it all before Hank. This may be the single most important discovery in human history. It may end hunger and poverty in our lifetime. So let’s stop mincing words and project those Pym Particles already, Hank!”

Hank Pym’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, and he shrank beneath the console, figuratively. He flicked the power switch and waited for it to warm up. A few seconds later a light on a button glowed green. It was ready for use.

“Wait…” Halted Ted. “This is the time, where somebody here should probably say something profound, and of significant weight to match the moment’s importance in scientific history… However I can think of no such words that could possibly be equal to the boon for mankind that is making bacon more plentiful.”

Jan smiled, but rolled her eyes.

Hank poked his blonde head around the console. “Can I go now?”

“Absolutely.”

* * * * *

T H E H O M E O F H A N K P Y M & J A N E T V A N D Y N E

---

^{Present Day, Midday | Manhattan, New York}

The bacon was indeed bigass. And preliminary testing was looking good so far. The bacon’s molecular structure appeared to by stable. Hank had said, there were theories out there where attempting to shrink or grow an object beyond its normal capabilities would likely render that object unstable and liable to explosion. But as he suspected the use of Pym Particles - a name he was still loathe to use himself, despite Ted’s continued pressing - seemed to prevent that instability. The theory being that similar matter that would make up the bacon was being diffused from across dimensional lines and had been infused in the now much larger bacon, allowing for its continued stability.

Or something like that. It was all very new to Ted and the science may as well have been magic, as far as Ted’s limited grasp of the new fields in particle physics that had just been birthed on this very day went.

“Should probably make sure he gets some sleep.” Ted suggested to Janet.

“I will.” She said. “I’ll let him at least set up his larger tests, and then I’ll tell him to get some sleep. Once there’s not so much for him to do but wait for the results. You know Hank…”

“Yeah. I know Hank.”

The two were sitting in the living room with the television on, whilst Hank was hard at work in his lab, running a full battery of tests.

“So, do you think Hank will be alright?”

“As alright as we both can expect.” Janet grinned. “Thanks for coming and doing this.”

“You know, if you’re ever need help like this, you BOTH have my details.” Ted replied.

“I know. I just-- Things like this feel like they should be our problem. I didn’t want to go dragging our friends in.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better about any of this, consider me family, and drag me into this kind of stuff. Kicking and screaming like the annoying little brother if necessary.”

“OK. But you’ve no idea what you’re in for. How long are you in the city for?”

“Well, the Expo’s on tonight but-- Wait, is that Stark? Turn this up.”

Janet had the TV on an Entertainment News channel, Tony Stark was making a red carpet styled appearance, with jaw-droppingly stunning women on either shoulder, as he spoke to the interviewer looking debonair with perfectly manicured facial hair and wearing a full tuxedo.

“Are you kidding me?! He’s wearing a tux like it’s a Gala Ball to a goddamn Expo? Well, that’s that I suppose. I can’t pull of a tux at an Expo. At least I don’t have to worry about competing for style anymore, he’s blown me out of the water before I’ve even shown up.”

Jan turned to Ted. “Did I really just hear the C.E.O of Kord Omniversal say he couldn’t compete with Stark and was planning to give up without even trying? Ted, I’m stunned. What would your shareholders say?” She said, feigning shock. “Besides, you now happen to be family with one of the most stylish fashion designers and models in New York City, and therefore the world. And SHE is saying you absolutely could pull off a tux at an Expo!”

“Hey, that’s right! You are big in fashion, maybe you can help me!” Ted replied. “Can you find me three of your model friends who could blow those two he’s standing next to out of the water?”

Jan hit him. Repeatedly.

“No, you jackass. But what I can do is get you fitted for an even better tux and put you through to someone who can maybe do something about that hair.”

“So I’m not going to get a JVD original tux?”

“I can’t say I make too many tuxedos in high women’s fashion. But…” she turned around and grabbed her purse, flicking through the pockets for a specific business card. “...these guys DO owe me a favour, and they’re the best in town. They’d probably also take it as something of a challenge.”

“Oh come on, the hair wasn’t enough of a dig?!”

“I meant, to out-big Tony Stark on this kind of stage at late notice…”

“Yeah… nice save.”

“I thought so too.” Janet smirked. “I’ll measure you up here. You give them the figures, they’ll sort you out free of charge.”

“Wait, what?”

“Get up and spread ‘em.”

“You’re being very forward with new family members and I don’t know that I’m feeling very comfortable with this…” Ted laughed, and stayed seated.

“Or is it because you’re wearing the suit underneath?”

Ted sat slack-jawed.

“I’m in fashion, Ted. I can tell when someone’s wearing something thick under a business suit. It’s affecting the way it sits. Beyond which, you’ve flashed it through your sleeve a few times today already. Can I see it?”

“How did--?”

“I’ll level with you. It wasn’t all me, Ted. Hank actually noticed that Blue Beetle character in Boston was using your tech. He keeps an eye on the new products your company announces they’re working on out of interest. I just put the pieces together to get that it was you. I think it’s good, what you’re doing. Adventurous, bold, brave, whatever… honestly, it looks fun. So whip off your suit and let’s see it.”

“Hank knows?” Ted asked.

“He knows. He’s my husband. No secrets and all of that. But he’s the only one.”

Ted sighed, reluctantly flipped his tie over his shoulder and undid a few of his shirt buttons, revealing the Blue Beetle suit underneath.

“Oh you know how to tease a girl! Barely giving her a glimpse!”

Ted did his buttons back up, only offering a glare to her mock whoops of delight.

“Is there any chance at all I could be fitted for this tux without them knowing? Maybe we take the measurements here and I just pick it up from there?”

She pulled a tape measure from her purse, and her eyes flashed. “When I’m finished with you Ted, nobody's going to know a thing.”

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Documentation gets stacked and shuffled. Fingers run across the edge as hands flick through the pages, gauging the length. The full document is turned on it’s side and tapped twice on a home office desk to straighten and square the sides. A bulldog clip placed over the top to secure it, before it’s put in a small, heavy-duty safe kept within a desk drawer, the drawer itself protected by lock and key.

The man wanders across to his private bar, pours himself scotch on the rocks. He swirls it vacantly as he stares out the window contemplating the full ramifications of what he has just done, their likely consequences, and the following moves he’ll have to be mindful of making. He looks back at the desk briefly, with no remorse, no morality for the consequences, only a thought for his own personal vulnerability.

Satisfied he’s given enough thought to the ramifications of his decisions for now, he takes his glass and leaves the confines of his home office for his living room. He sits down in a fine velvet chair, turns the television on to a 24 hour news network and watches the clockwork of the world.

* * * * *

Gloved fingers frantically glide around a keyboard, the slap of keys echoing uncomfortably loudly through the empty pitch-black office. In the depths of his mind the Vigilante knew he SHOULD be alright; security only swept through the floors three times throughout the night. But the times were largely unpredictable. The building’s security officers were generally lax, and frequently lost track of time. He could have as much as 4 hours, or they could walk through any second.

He saved his changes, confirmed his desire to do so and breathed a sigh of relief as he set the computer to stand-by mode. Done. Now the window of his vulnerability was down to however long it would take him to safely get out of the building.

He stayed clear of the elevators. That was the easiest giveaway, since the movements of the lifts were monitored centrally and visible to anyone working the security office. He kept mainly to the shadows, knowing the internal cameras cycled through sequentially every few seconds. It was impossible to know which would be viewed when. But fortunately, the same lax security officers were the ones monitoring those cameras. So long as he wasn’t too flamboyant, chances were they wouldn’t be paying too much attention. Hopefully. He noiselessly crept up five sets of stairs, before he heard voices and saw the swinging light of a flashlight above him. Silently he slinked back down one floor and melted away into the shadows. The tapping of black office shoes on linoleum were followed by an increasingly loud murmur of two men discussing some inane local sports result or another, as maglights swept across the floor searching for potential trespassers and the imaginary under the routine pretense of doing work. The Vigilante tucked himself tighter into his hiding place as if he could feel the warmth of the spotlight.

Seconds passed and so did the security guards. The man in black watched as they went down the stairs, and crossed the floor and decided to take the other stairwell to continue back up. He made good time as he felt confident that there would be no surprises on his way up now, keeping to the sides still but racing on quietly towards the roof. The Vigilante got to the top floor and the final door to the rooftop outside, which was a wired-up heavy fire door, but he had come prepared. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wired by-pass, carefully attaching clamped wires to both sides’ contact points before taking a beat to breathe. Finally he shoved the heavy door open and winced in anticipation of it all going wrong and triggering the fire alarm, but it had worked perfectly. He slipped underneath the mess of loose wires, holding the door open with his foot. He pinched one end of the wire and pulled it through the door, trying carefully to let the heavy door close as gently as he could control. Finally, he yanked the wire back through the tiny gap in the door. He recoiled the wire quickly and stuffed it back in his pocket, pulling out his grapple gun and walking to the rooftop’s edge.

And just like that. He was gone.

* * * * *

Isaac tossed his keys in the bowl on his kitchen countertop. He got changed and grabbed a beer out of the fridge. He habitually flicked the television onto the news for background noise as he busied himself around the house. He took stock of the sugar in his storeroom, still fine for the week, even with how much he would go through. He vacuumed his empty closet again, just to be sure, before putting it away again in its own power-docked nook on the wall next to it.

He went back to the television and watched it for one cycle. Nothing of importance was happening. He turned it off and started hauling bags. He loaded up the small nook with a familiar amount and made one final pass of the house, checking lights were turned off. The house was black as pitch and felt completely devoid of life. It was the lonely hour between 2 and 3 am, but Isaac’s day was still at its start. He walked into his closet, flicked a familiar switch and let the randomness of quantum uncertainty pick his destination.

* * * * *

Isaac took note of the purple painted closet as he stepped out into Lost Haven’s early afternoon. The purple symbolized he was in his French Quarter rental on DuChamp. He stepped around the closet and grabbed the vacuum from it’s nook, carefully clearing the floor of all the scattered excess sugar granules. He grabbed some keys from the bowl on the kitchen counter as he walked out into the brisk Maine afternoon air.

He’d left his school things at his Little Ulster house, after a quick stop he’d be ready for the rest of his day.

* * * * *

He pulled up to Lost Haven University having retrieved his laptop and bag. Since it was early enough for him to do so, he figured he should put in the appearance and earn the capital for all the days he’d be too busy protecting one of two cities through wanton acts of violence to ever pretend to take notes and pay attention.

He pulled up in the carpark and hit the central locking button; the final precaution to car theft, with the first being his junker’s general aesthetic. The car looked the part of belonging to a regular broke college kid, even if the driver looked considerably older.

He cut through the sports fields to make his way to the Law building, only to see a familiar kid racing across the green to get to him. He cursed quietly under his own breath.

“So..!” The young man enthused, seemingly continuing a conversation Isaac didn’t remember having. “Tryouts for fifteens have to be coming up soon!”

“Yeah… about that. I don’t think the new guy has any interest in me doing that anymore. I’d be surprised if he doesn’t kill the program.” Isaac replied in his thick Terrarian accent.

The younger man looked crestfallen. “The new Dean?”

“With a capital ‘D’. Yeah. Don’t think he likes me very much. Still, not done yet. We’ll go through the motions ‘til he does, I s’pose.”

“I’ll-- I’ll talk to him! Maybe I can get him to understand.”

“You’re more than welcome to try. I can’t hang around to talk. I’ve got class. Probably missed too many as it is.”

“Ok. I’ll handle this. Don’t you worry about this! I’ll handle it!” The youth called back over his shoulder, having changed direction and started running towards the Dean’s office.”

“I’m not worried about that.” Isaac said once he was out of earshot. “I’m worried you’ll either succeed or he’ll think I put you up to it…” He muttered to himself as he started to jog to the Law building.

Isaac got to the lecture hall just as freshmen were starting to pour in. Isaac decided he’d pick a seat on an edgerow in case he had to make a hasty exit due to “other business”, but close enough that the lecturer wouldn’t think he wasn’t engaged in the lesson. As he walked down the steps towards the front one of the more game first years spoke up.

“So, what are we learning today, Teach’.”

“The class is on your schedule, kid. Do I look like a ‘MIZ Pearson’.”

“I don’t think it’s my place to judge you on how you’d fill out a skirt.” The youth responded, and he turned to fistbump a kid sitting behind him.

Isaac stood and stared at the source of his irritation, sucking one of his rear molars and contemplating the costs and merits of caving in the head of a kid who needed a fake ID to buy alcohol. He was sitting 4 seats into the row, Isaac could visualize taking one broad jump onto a desk, a short step down into a seat for stability, grabbing him by the scruff of the shirt and hurling him down to the floor of the lecture hall. Maybe he couldn’t throw him the whole way there. Maybe it would take a bounce or two.

Isaac grinned at the thought, and turned to continue walking down to his seat..

“Nice comeback.” The grinning youth said.

Isaac turned back. “Amazing. If your father could have accurately said that to your mother 20 years ago nobody would have to deal with this kind of shit from you right now…”

The grin dropped off his face. “Ooooooooh!” the kid behind him yelled, “Savage! He got you, bro!”

“That better?” Isaac asked, putting his laptop on his desk. The other students around kept jeering the kid who got put in his place by the older man. His face was reddening more and more by the second. Sensible heels clicked down the aisle and it was clear the class was about to start. As an attractive woman in her mid to late 20s, or possibly even very early 30s, walked to the the desk at the front of the class.

“Alright, alright, get yourselves organized I want to jump right in today. Mr Brunson, is there any chance that could be possible or are you going to be a distraction for the first five minutes again. This is college now, not high school, none of you have to be here if you don’t want to. If you want to walk out those doors, that’s on you. Just don’t blame anyone else when your parents ask why you squandered the opportunity and you’re left paying student loans with nothing to show for it.”

She put her things down next to the desk, retrieved a stack of stapled paper from an expensive legal briefcase and left them on the edge of the desk itself. She turned on the class’ recording device so the lecture could be turned into an audio file for anyone who would be taking the class online. She then went and started to wipe the board clear, still talking loudly over her shoulder.

“I’ve marked your freeform essays, they’re up here at the front. Feel free to retrieve them at the end of class…”

She wrote “TORTS” in big letters across the board

“Alright, does anyone know what a ‘tort’ is? ...Brunson, if you or your pal Overton, tell me it’s a dessert, so help me.”

But Danny Overton was in no mood to tell anybody anything. His forehead was still such a deep shade of crimson from Isaac’s comment it looked like you could fry an egg on it.

A hand sprang up from the back of the class.

“You don’t really have to put your hand up here…”

The young girl eagerly spat out “FITTED CAB!”

Brunson laughed from his seat and shook his head, and the rest of the class broke out laughing as well.

Ms Pearson chuckled from the front as well, but quelled the class. “That’s actually not as bad an answer as it first sounds, and we’ll get to that by the end of the lesson. Your sister took this class too, didn’t she Miss..?”

The girl blushed in embarrassment, “Heather-- I mean, Miss Fox. Heather Fox.”

“Ok, Heather. Calm down. It’s just class. I know what you meant, even if everybody else here doesn’t yet. But at the moment we’re talking more broad strokes. What, just as a general definition, is a tort?”

“Oh! Umm-- a tort is, like, any kind of harmful thing which someone could be responsible for in civil law.”

“Thank you, Miss Fox. That’s exactly what we’re looking for.” She turned and wrote ‘Harmful Thing’, ‘RESPONSIBLE’ and ‘Civil Law” on the board and underlined each.

“And as Miss Fox was kind enough to jump ahead and spoil us for the next answer, examples of the primary actionable torts can be remembered as…”

She turned and wrote the following letters on the board:

F
I

T

T

E
D

C

A

B

“--Now did your sister say what this means?”

“Umm… The first is false imprisonment, then one of the ‘T’s is trespass, I think. Something-something assault and battery..?”

“Well, you got over half of them…”

Ms Pearson turned and filled in the gaps:

F_alse

I_mprisonment

T_respass

T_respass

E_motional

D_istress

C_onversion

A_ssault

B_attery

“Hey! You screwed up, You wrote ‘Trespass’ twice.” Danny Overton piped up, now seemingly cooled down from the earlier burn.

“Not a screw up, but good point. One is for trespass upon land, and the other is for trespass upon chattel or personal property.”

“Which one’s which?” Chimed in a voice from the back.

“What do you mean?”

“Which ‘T’ is land and which ‘T’ is for cattle.”

Ms Pearson turned to look at the student, then turned back to the board, then finally back to the freshman in frustration.

“Does it matter? This is just to help you remember what the main actionable torts are.”

She turned back to the board and wrote ‘(land)’ next to one of the ‘T’s.

“And it’s ‘chattel’, not cattle.”

She wrote ‘(chattel)’ next to the other. Then drew an arrow with two heads linking the two descriptions showing they were interchangeable ‘T’s.

Isaac sat, listening and found himself staring intensely at the list. He was pretty sure that at some time or another, over the last ten years he was responsible for having done every single thing listed on that board.

And furthermore, at the conclusion of these courses, once he has graduated and has his law degree he knew he would still intend to continue doing so.

It took him ten minutes to realize that whilst he was listening to what was being said, he was far too engrossed in his own head to really be making sense of any of it. It was just white noise to his thoughts.

He wondered if that would always be an apt metaphor for law in his life.

And so the lesson continued.

* * * * *

The class concluded and students walked to the front of their class and found their essay in the alphabetically sorted stack at the front of the class. Isaac took a few seconds to catch on that students had been packing their stuff up to get ready to leave, he’d lost track of time and was taking loose notes on his laptop. As a result he was one of the last ones to get to his feet, as he saved his file and put his laptop on sleep mode, putting it in his bag.

The last dozen or so essays were strewn across the desk, but Isaac was the only one left. Presumably the remaining papers belonged to students who were away and would be taking the day’s lecture online.

“Good to see you decided to come in for a class.” Isaac heard behind him, as he flipped through the papers. “And your choice of essay topic was very interesting as well.” Isaac finally found his work in the loose papers and turned to face the voice’s source.

“Thanks.” He replied. “I guess…”

“Well, it was meant as a good thing. Sorry if that came across as catty at all. Guess I’ve still got my ‘teacher’s voice’ turned way up.”

Isaac smiled in response.

“And I meant it about your paper. Most people usually just write some egocentric paper on what they think I want to hear in terms of why they decided to take law. ...When generally it’s because they had the grades that allowed it and Mommy or Daddy pushed them that way.”

Isaac took a chance on what he could get away with. “Is that speaking from personal experience?”

Ms Pearson laughed. “Maybe a little.”

“It’s hard to blame them though. They’re kids.” Isaac said. “If you don’t give them a topic of course they’re going to talk about themselves. I have to be honest, I wasn’t even sure what I was going to write on. Freeform essay. It’s too broad. Too many options.”

“That’s true.” She replied. “But the main point is to figure out how they’re writing to start with so things can be fine tuned later. Add layers... how to properly use footnotes. It’s a process.”

“So you’re saying mine was overkill.” He smirked.

“Not at all. It broke up my night when I was marking all the others. Interesting choice of topic. What made you pick it?”

“General legal guidelines for a liaison department between self identifying superheroes and law enforcement? Well, we’re in Lost Haven. At LHU. it seems pretty pertinent doesn’t it? Topical. I mean, its pretty clear I'm new in town.”

“I suppose so. Is that what brought you here? Interest in capes and demons? I must say you don’t look the type.”

“No. My father died. I spent a few years travelling the world. And what I realised was that it’s a fast changing world… but it wasn’t going to change in the one way I wanted it to, so I figured I should probably at least go back to school and figure things out with some sense of normalcy.”

She chuckled. “Try again.”

“Pardon me?” Isaac said, surprised at her response.

“If you were looking for the stability of routine, you’d be at classes full time and not have taken a wide array of courses that seem to be almost completely available online with no personal attendance requirements.”

“There’s a difference between wanting to fall back into routine and normalcy and feeling completely comfortable that you’re ready for it. Set myself up with a bunch of online courses, and if I don’t feel I can face the world some day… I don’t have to.”

“Ah-huh. And how do you explain away taking on coaching a team..?”

The Hell..?

“Well, for one thing that wasn’t my idea. Second, so we don’t just make this a one-way street, Madame Prosecutor, what’s someone like you doing teaching freshman law? You were once the most promising young lawyer the DA’s office, I’d heard you were inline for a promotion that would have made you one of the youngest Assistant District Attorney’s in the state’s history and then you left before it was made official. What happened there?”

The lecturer stood agape.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’re not going to spin me a story that there’s a second Josie Pearson, are you? And as best I can tell it’s a lot less unusual for a prospective older orphoned student looking into his teacher’s credentials than there is for said teacher to be looking into a particular student’s extracurriculars and other classes… particularly with as attractive a student as is in this case...”

She turned a deep shade of crimson and spluttered.

“Alright, the last bit was unfair and just me poking the bear. But I think we can both agree, when just meeting people, perhaps an open interrogation isn’t the way to go. Particularly when that person just mentioned their father died.”

“OK. Perhaps, some of that wasn’t entirely unwarranted.” She said, as her skin tone started to be restored and a smile started to crease upon her face.

“So maybe this’ll do better. Josie Pearson? Isaac Fontaine.” He held his hand out.

She took his hand in hers. “Isaac Fontaine? Josie Pearson.”

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

America in 2008:

"Anyone can be President!"

America in 2016:

"No, no, no... you don't understand. ANYONE can be President."

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

*sends smoke signals to @Byrd Man like we had to in the old days*

"U UP? WANNA COLLAB?"

*Waits for winds to take message across the Pacific and change direction for reply*

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

Don't box Ted Kord in. He makes his own rules.

...if that's ok with everybody else.

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

That's DareDevil season one done, folks. Bar an epilogue to wrap up, I've finished season one and will now start planning season two and my second character.

Please, please, please if anyone has any critique, feedback, review, or general thoughts and/or feelings on the character, the season as a whole, any individual posts, plot points, etc etc I welcome it all with frightening fervor.

EDIT: The post catalogue at the bottom of my sheet is fully up-to-date for anyone who needs refreshers in the history or anyone who would like to just read through from start to finish.

@Roman

I don't want to say too much to spoil it for anyone who hasn't read it yet, so I'll hold off until people have more time to get caught up... but you've certainly left it in an interesting place to see what comes next.

Almost like "this is where MY Daredevil story starts" as you're kicking off from a place where obviously the comics would be loathe to tread.