in...
WEIRDER THINGS
pt. 2
Metropolis / United States:
May 17th, 2019 - 04:03 PM | Metro Tower - Midtown
The long elevator ride finally came to an end. Comet could hear it begin to slow down as it reached the bottom level of the Metro Tower. He stepped out of the sliding doors and walked down the long hallway along the side of the colosseum like area. Making his way towards the viewing room and control station he passed several small windows along the side of the War Room that more or less helped with airing the place out should anybody use gas based attacks be it the high tech holo-droids or the heroes themselves. The setting looked like a wrecked downtown area during the night time. There were fires, smoke, holographic civilians in peril, the hard light projectors could make it look like anything. Hollywood would kill for this sort of technology and atmosphere.
As Adam Blake made his way into the viewing room he could tell that Robotman had been wrong about who was down here. Comet expected to see Booster Gold and Blue Beetle, however what appeared to be kicking ass in the simulation was Mister Terrific. There were several viewing screens showing the War Room from different camera angles in the room, a water dispenser, several chairs, as well as an entrance into the control booth. When Comet entered the viewing room the timer read less than five minutes were left in the session and three civilians had yet to be rescued with one enemy left to be defeated and one ally still standing.
Michael Holt, Mister Terrific himself, was in a most unheroic position at the moment, hanging head down from a suspended cable a few feet up in the air with only his own feet saving him from plummeting face-first into concrete. Rather than distressed or troubled, however, the World’s Greatest Athlete looked amused, downright smiling with his arms crossed nonchalantly, and he held on strong despite the clear sway of the line barely holding his weight aloft. And upon closer inspection Comet might be able to tell that the would be hero was not only observing his artificial teammate engage with the enemy, he was humming something to himself under his breath.
“When a problem comes along, you must whip it...”Battling on the dark street, kicking up the water sprayed by a busted hydrant as they dipped, dived, ducked and dodged around each other in a bizarre, manic struggle, were virtual representations of
The Whip Shelly Gaynor and the villainess
Syonide. Both women, clad in their “less than modest” costumes and armed solely with their long and flexible lashes, kept their distance as they tried to match each other's movements, looking to time the crack of their whip to the moment their rival was busy retracting her own. For a life and death struggle it was equal parts dance-like and almost comical, though the mother and two young children cowering in a shattered storefront nearby certainly didn’t seem entertained.
“THREE MINUTES REMAINING” blared the intercom, as it had every 60 seconds since the five minute mark.
Though Syonide’s electric whip was a non-factor with both of them prancing around ankle-deep in water, the simulation data pegged her as more experienced than Gaynor who had seemingly retired early into her career. Adjusting her plan to suit the coming end of the scenario, the villainess began slowly reducing the distance between them and finally seemed to slip up. Shelly’s whip cracked and wrapped itself around Syonide’s, pulling it back towards the heroine who seemed to positively beam at the prospect of victory in this near mirror match. She did not see the opening for the feint it was, didn’t realize the extra weight and tangled scourges made her return slower and clumsier.
“Oooh that’s a wrap there.” called Terrific, finally letting himself drop. Rather than a breakneck tumble the hero descended with practiced, almost gravity-defying grace, flipping his body over mid-air to stick a perfectly balanced landing on his feet. World’s Greatest Athlete, and it was indeed a wrap. Before Gaynor could ready her weapon once more Syonide had closed the distance between them, dropping the unpowered heroine with a faceful of loosened pavement slab and clinching the deal via one mean punt to her downed opponent. Focusing on a lone weapon to the exclusion of all else had plenty of issues, but it’d been an enlightening look at whip combat for Michael.
“TWO MINUTES REMAINING!”, blared the intercom once more as Terrific dusted himself off and advanced confidently.
Syonide had recovered her own whip and taken The Whip’s as well, and now she approached the last remaining civilians with weapons in hand and clear ill intentions in mind, perhaps looking to take out the frustrations of her battle on someone who couldn’t fight back. And that’s about as far as she got before a python-strong arm wrapped wrapped itself around her neck and another pushed her head down, steel-strong biceps and forearm applying irresistible pressure to her carotid arteries and restricting blood flow to the brain. In less than 10 seconds the rear naked choke had done its work and Syonide was out cold, and Mister Terrific let her limp body fall to pose arms-spread for the “cameras” of the observation window.
“HOSTILES ELIMINATED, CIVILIANS SECURE, TARGET OF OPERATION CLEARED. SYSTEM SWITCH TO STANDBY MODE!”
With a satisfied, confident look on his face and a relaxed stroll, Terrific left the now void grey room and made his way to the observation deck, knowing he was being watched but with no idea who it was.
“Hahahaaa, hell of a rig you’ve got going on here. Not quite the real thing but you can set up some crazy scenes huh?” he spoke out without even looking at who he was talking to.
There it was again. When the Comet looked at the monitors of Terrific’s victory he could see the wandering left eye of the Weird. From different angles. This had to be real, didn’t it? The Comet hoped to catch good vibes from Terrific going in, but was a bit puzzled the new hero chose to also entertain himself with a pair of buxom women in somewhat suggestive clothing and bearing whips. If his mind wasn’t all over the place Comet might have had a different opinion, he just happened to be in the middle of a mental meltdown. When the hero exited the War Room and complimented the facility, Adam just kinda spoke telepathically entering the room in a hurry having already programmed the next simulation.
“It isn’t anything like what I’ve seen in space…” he projected with his mind in passing.
He lifted himself in the air and suddenly the room went black. Stars began shimmering in the artificial sky and it was clear Comet wanted to be at home again in space. The void was calming, and the surrounding asteroids provided sufficient target practice. He projected himself across several space sectors where months before joining the JLU the Weird saw his untimely death at the hands of
a blue skinned man who just waved his hand.“There’s nothing left of him. The guilt must be getting to me. Never figured out who or what that blue skinned man was. The League’s files have nothing on him, even their records about the known Multiverse…” Adam Blake thought to himself before activating a new scenario in the War Room.
“Control Panel… load scene C-4. Difficulty set at eight. Five enemies. One star cruiser.”The War Room began shifting somewhat, however remaining in a space environment, until a large bus sized personal Thanagarian star cruiser materialized with nearly a half dozen wingmen soldiers like those the founding five Leaguers faced years earlier.
- Ω / Hex
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