Pacifista

One Piece: A Golden Age, A Dark Age - The Boozehound Chronicles

Chester crashing to the ground, Lina remained on her rear, catching her breath. Blood still stained her from her fight with Saff, and once again she'd exerted herself.

"I-is it over?" the king asked. Saff and Cerulean still lay defeated on the ground, as did Chester in his victory. From further ahead, Johannes still seemed conscious, though bloody. He panted, "I hear no mortars, or the sounds of soldiers storming the place, meaning your comrades still hold their ground, for now. I would hope the soldiers of the country are beginning to mount a counterattack, but if we can strike at their morale..." Johannes began to stand, but his leg caved out from under him. He nearly fell, and would have had Lina not caught him with her shoulder.

Looking to the king and queen, she said, "Keep my idiot safe, we might be able to end this ourselves." In tow with Johannes, the two moved.

---

Every breath he caught a valuable one, Macario continued to push back the attackers. Some had already gotten through, and he was getting more tired with every bout, but even Vermilion had taken a few licks by this point., his intimidation leading to cautious, slow burning strategies. In attrition, Vermilion would win out easily. Similarly too cautious to try and end things decisively, Macario laughed, "I'm trusting those idiots after all..."

Throwing a Xun just to keep the men rattled, Macario grinned, but before things could continue, a voice rang out, silver shining from the balcony of the castle.

"Cerulean is defeated!" Johannes cried. "Melonberry's hero won't stop there as long as you Four Color Companies continue your fight, so lay down your arms or his comrades and I will fight you to your last!" The man stood firm, clearly wounded but confident, he words shaking the hearts of those still stopped. The Azure company mooks were unmatched in the owner of their individual troops in the Blue, but Johannes' Balder Knights still head their ground despite being outnumbered. The Verdant Company had its leader defeated, and their mortars had been taken out on the first go round, its remaining men having already retreated as luck was not on their side. The Quartz Company had not been in the thick of things regardless and had no more stakes beyond logistics, which mattered little as everything fell apart. Vermilion gawked at the announcement, his men tittering in anxiety, some even making a retreat. "No way Cerelu-"

The clamoring of footsteps approaching, Macario snarled, Vermilion's guard well dropped. He was only able to let out one "Glack" while Macario went with "Li!" Fist catching flame, Macario's fist slammed into him, the man himself catching fire and bowling into his troops, the heat quickly spreading. Some went went to quench the outbreak, while many simply had no more direction with Vermilion's defeat, scattering like moths. Patting his fist out in the dirt, Macario let out a laugh, flopping to the ground. "What a damn mess..."

---

Stepping back, Johannes continued to catch his breath.

"'Melonberry's hero?'" Johannes repeated. Lina admitted, "He's going to be infamous one day, so I figure the king and queen wouldn't want to be linked to 'Chester D. Arnold'. He saved my town though, so the Companies would know him for that."

Looking back over the battleground, which was beginning to quiet, Johannes hoped, "Let's pray we don't need him again."

---

"No conformation on Cerulean yet but Vermilion was beaten!"

"What!?" Goldenrod spat, flopping back in his wheelchair. Teeth gnashing, he slammed his fist against his armrest. "And no word from Saff yet?" The messenger shook his head.

Goldenrod seethed. Kobicha and Chadwick had the misfortune of running into Kuhn, who'd technically beaten Viridian without taking any damage. Part of Goldenrod wanted to swarm him with the entire army, but he was hardly alone: forces from other islands were mobilizing as it was. If they were inside the castle they'd be defensible but as of now they were in the open, and he was the only executive left standing.

"Send some men to retrieve Saff, secretly. We're leaving, let the other armies keep making noise to keep attention off of us in the retreat."

The Quartz goon nodded. "Yes sir!" Another taking Goldenrod by the wheelchair, he began to roll off, the man hissing, "Just a bunch of pirates."

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

_{Location: El Diablo Air Force Base, (Navapo, New Mexico)}

Seeing Green – 1.03

---

_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: 1.02

“So...what happened?”

Perking up at the voice, Bruce looked over from his bed to see Betty coming in. Right now it was mercifully quiet. The Base had a med-bay but it was now completely unoccupied, sans one bed. Betty winced as she approached. Her causal tone had likely been to alleviate any concerns Bruce might have had for her feelings, but either way, Bruce wasn’t in the best of states. His skin was burned red, especially the neck, back, and shoulders. The medical gown he wore under the light sheet covered much of it, but with as pasty as he normally was he knew full well the burn showed. His hands were more or less alright, but both of his feet were suspended, not in casts, but heavily bandaged. The doctor insisted he shouldn’t be walking at all for a day or so, and not extensively for more than a week, to which Bruce could only promise that he wouldn’t be taking any more desert expeditions any time soon.

While the military doctor hadn’t really pestered Bruce on the why, Betty wasn’t going to be so dismissive, and Bruce was about ready as he was going to be. Fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose, Bruce cringed at the pain of his sunburn, letting out a groan, “Oh god I...I got mad again.” Shame was more than evident in his voice as he hid his face somewhat. “Road rage. A couple guys in a van almost hit a kid on the road.” Leaning back against his stiff, flat pillow, his hand rubbed across his forehead, palm over one of his eyes. “I remember getting out of my car and yelling at them. I turned away and they jumped me.” Betty’s eyes went wide. Bruce’s innards tightened. Lying always made him anxious, but the truth was even more baffling and fearful.

He had no idea. He was there then he was gone, waking up in the middle of nowhere. He wasn’t hurt, just missing his glasses and phone. His story wasn’t completely implausible, except for that he had held most of the anger during that whole encounter.

However, where he could no longer get mad at this whole situation, a dark look crossed Betty’s face, her hand gripping her purse tightly. “That...I can’t...oooooh!” She hissed. Bruce winced, doing his best to keep his face neutral. “Sometimes I hate this city. What did they look like? Where did it happen?”

Letting his hand flop to the bed, Bruce murmured, “I don’t...really remember where it happened, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was driving. I think I know vaguely where it was... One of them was fat I think?” Bruce felt his insides pulse again. He was never one for lying, let alone to Betty. Biting the inside of his lip, he clenched the toes of his wounded feet, mentally grimacing at the pain. But even as it hurt, there was some satisfaction, a part of him knowing he deserved it.

Standing briskly, Betty said, “I’m going to head out for a bit.” Expression loosening she admitted, “You’re looking a little pale, should I get the doctor?” Letting out a breath, Bruce felt himself sinking into his bed as tension left his body. “He said he’d be back.” Betty gave a curt nod, before moving to the door. As soon as she reached it, it burst open, shoving her aside. Chest broad and decorated, gray mustache bristling alongside his anger, Bruce could feel his heart sinking lower with ever thundering step. He didn’t even need his glasses: even with his eyes closed he’d have known damn well who was coming. Towering over Bruce’s bed, General Ross shook his head. “Look at you. I’ve never had someone under my watch be so utterly inept at the basic duty of being at work on time.” Bruce’s breath came slowly, but shortly. His mind seemed to lock up, hair standing on end, body stiff in anticipation. “You know full well of the expectations shouldered on me, both from my superiors, my peers, those under me, and above all myself. Through some fuck up of fate, you’re in charge of the Gamma Stream Project. And now it’s going to fall even further behind. And that reflects on me.” Ross put one hand on the frame of Bruce’s bed, leaning in. Bruce couldn’t have replied even if he wanted to. “You being injured from walking of all damn things doesn’t mean you can’t come up with a gameplan. I want timelines, and-”

A stern cough fro mthe other side of the room stole Ross’ bluster. Stuck still, he turned over his shoulder, spotting Betty, the woman staring daggers. Ross slowly turned back to Bruce, releasing his hand from the bed and taking a half a step back. Giving Bruce a nasty look, he turned back to Betty, “Betty! Didn’t see you there. I should have known.” A flat smile on his face, he said, “If I knew-”

“Fuck off dad.” Ross didn’t move his eyes from her, after a moment he held his hands out helplessly. The awkwardness was punched through as the door opened again, Betty stepping away as the military doctor stepped in, nodding at the General. Ross gave Betty a nod. “I suppose I’ll just fuck off then.” Disaffected expression on his face, he kept his gaze forward as he took his leave.

Breath coming a little easier, if only slightly, he kept to himself as the doctor looked between him and Betty. “We can keep him overnight, but he’s technically not military personnel, so this is really a matter of his health insurance.” Betty gave a slow nod. “We’ll work that out tomorrow then.” The doctor saw an empty glass of water at Bruce’s bedside, taking the excuse, “I’ll be back with some water and I’ll make sure you get some rest.”

As he slipped out, Betty almost made to follow, but stopped. “Oh, I almost forgot.” She reached into her purse, pulling out a glasses case. Bruce let out a sigh of relief, stretching out his arm for her to hand it off. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning when you can leave.”

Bruce gave a thankful nod as she finally left, Bruce alone in the spacious room. Cracking open his case, he withdrew a silver rimmed pair of spectacles, much like his other ones. Putting them on his eyes, he felt relief as everything became clear. Well, mostly. His eyebrow furrowed as he noted a slight disparity, his vision not quite as clear as he remembered. Realizing Betty must have grabbed an older pair by accident, he left out a light sigh, glad he could see regardless, and even more glad she was there for him. He reflexively tried to roll over, feeling drained, but his legs didn’t take much comfort at the odd angle, and they were starting to ache from the intense walking, far more than he’d done in years. Lying back in his bed, he was out before he knew it.

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

_{Location: Chihuahuan Desert (the outskirts of Navapo, New Mexico)}

Seeing Green – 1.02

---

_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: 1.01

Thumb sliding across the phone screen, blue eyes skimming a list of headlines, Elizabeth Ross adjusted her posture, crossing her legs the other way. One hand going to the hem of her black pencil skirt, her eyes shot up to the desk at the man in uniform, turning his Dallas-style mustachioed face away from her gaze ‘casually’ scratching the back of his head as he yawned. Rolling her eyes, she flopped her phone down, asking, “Can you page him again?”

Nameplate reading ‘G. Talbot’, the Staff Sergeant shrugged before turning to his internal phone line and picking up the receiver. Letting it hang, he asked, “What did you want to see him for again?”

Betty’s eyelids fluttered, breathing thrown off slightly. Keeping her cool, she reiterated, “I would like to see my boyfriend.” Her emphasis was pointed. She continued, “Look, I know security is tight after the accident, but...”

Talbot scowled, “What accident?” Looking around, he said, “You aren’t supposed to know about any accident.”

Are you fucking serious? Betty didn’t say the words, but Talbot’s sharp reaction was ample enough evidence to show that expression was all she needed. Holding up his free hand helplessly, he muttered, “I can’t just let a journalist in without permission.” Eyebrows raised, he added, perhaps playfully, “I mean, maybe we can work something out...”

Betty could have thrown her phone through his face. Science advocacy was a bit more broad then just journalism, but she knew damn well that Glenn was trying to earn some kind of favor, because he always did. Or always tried. Arm pulling back, she flexed as though she might toss the phone at him, but only for a moment, quickly bringing it back around to her face. There was a moment of hesitance as she went through her priority contacts, thumb hovering over ‘Dad’. “I can see what the General has to say if you’d like.” Betty hated pulling the ‘dad’ card, but being with Talbot was honestly worse. Eyes darting to the phoneline in trepidation, Talbot complied. Picking up the phone, he rolled his chair back and turned away, calling it out. Letting out a frustrated sigh, Betty's hovering foot tapped the air lightly as she waited.

Hanging up the phone, Talbot came back to the desk. “Uh...Banner still hasn’t show up.”

Betty stared for a moment, before shaking her head. Going to her contacts, she phoned Bruce. Letting it ring, she knew it wouldn’t have reached him if he were actually in the lab where it wasn’t allowed, but at the moment he could be anywhere. Yet the phone only rang fruitlessly. “The person you are trying to reach is unav-”

Hanging up, Betty glanced behind her, as if Bruce might show up in the waiting area. Turning back, eyes finding a vacant spot on the floor, her mind was abuzz as she postulated on just where that man could have gone, or what he could have gotten himself in to.

---

First was the dream, the rush of the desert speeding before him.

Second was the heat of the dirt he rested on, its painful scent. Third was the breeze, the dust it carried lost, confused. Fourth was the harsh beat of the sun, so furious.

And finally was the terror. Bruce took in a sharp breath, coughing and hacking the dirt and dust that came with it. Grunting and groaning, he pulled his arms out from underneath him and crawled to his knees, mouth dripping globules of spit as he tried to drain the dirt out of his mouth. His breath couldn’t seem to regulate as more and more information brought him more and more confusion. His glasses were missing: he couldn’t see well, but he could tell he was in the middle of the desert, blurry rocks and dry shrubs spattered in the dusty flats. It was still day, but the sun was dipping even lower in the sky, closer and closer to tinting the day orange. His feet burned, bare against the ground. His pants felt loose, several of the seams broken. His shirt was in tatters, only hanging on quite literally by threads. The cold sweat on his skin might have made the breeze more comforting, even as dirt stuck to his skin, but it did not calm him. What he last remembered already seemed distant, the anger he’d felt well drowned out by his current emotional cocktail. Desperately skimming his pockets, his phone was gone, but he had his keys and his wallet, (for as good as that would do him).

Trying to make out anything he could, he stumbled to a shadier spot, crouching under a medium sized rock to get out of the blare of the sun. With one thing out of the way, however small, Bruce’s mind tried to figure anything useful, pushing back his confusion as a dread set in. legally blind without his glasses and in the middle of the desert, the very real possibility existed that he would die. The Base would be wondering where he was since he didn’t show up to work, but god knows how many hours it would take before they really got to searching, and what reason would Bruce have to be out here? Betty would be dragged into his mess too. She wouldn’t rest until he was found (bless her), but Bruce didn’t want to worry her if he could help it. But could he? Out here in the nothing? Picking a direction and going would be dangerous, but the phrase ‘do or die’ was one he couldn’t shake from his thought process. He needed direction, and if he was lucky he wasn’t that far. But then again, if he were lucky, he wouldn’t have ended up in this situation in the first place.

Turning about, Bruce stooped and scrambled up onto the rock, the tallest thing within a few meters, taking a seat on the surface. Grimacing as the sun’s heat met him yet again, he bore it as he kept his eyes peeled. Rubbing his forehead with the back of his arm to keep the sweat back, he skimmed the horizon, straining to pick out some kind of landmark. Color was about the only thing he could really see in his blurred visions, any shape distorting ever so slightly. But among that was light, and from his position he swore he could make out points of light reflected in the sun: vehicles in a parking lot? It was the only thing that stood out from the tanned stone and stumpy shrubs, and with only one option before him, he didn’t feel like he had much choice. He had to move. Now. Or else he wasn’t going to make it back.

Hoping, praying, Bruce dared to make his way. His feet did not take to the movement kindly. Wearing shoes outside your whole life really dulled you to just how much there really was to feel underfoot. Cracks in the ground became falling hazards, Bruce ultimately blind to them. Every little rock poked at his feet, his reflexes demanding he flinch away but his mind fighting that notion, gritting through the pain and discomfort to maintain his course. After some time he stopped himself in some shade, removing what remained of his shirt. It barely covered him as it was, so while his pale complexion was set to burn a nice shade of red, he could at least protect his feet, even if only a little. Guarding his heel and toes with bindings from the scraps of his shirt, he continued on, but the reprieve only lasted so long before they inevitably came undone, the little protection they offered short lived as it was. Feet now totally bare and god knows how much desert lay in front of him, the dirt only became more of an issue. The longer he walked, the more he could feel it grind him down. Sandpaper had its name for a reason after all, and as the walk went on, blisters forming, then bursting, skin went red, rubbed raw, before splitting. The stinging as blood became matted in the dirt, wounds coated in dust was only bearable as Bruce tried to focus on the reflections still in the distance, steadily becoming closer as the sunlight fractured into orange. Even if the area’s temperature was becoming more temperate, the cold that was coming only made Bruce worry more, as he was certainly just as unprepared for that as he was for this.

Crushing day turned to foreboding night, even the moonlight could not make up for Bruce’s lacking eyesight. And yet, somehow, his tenacity allowed him to press on just long enough as he stumbled face first into a chain link fence. Falling back onto his rear, he looked, but he simply could not see it, though the sound was unmistakable. Beyond he couldn’t make out much of anything through the darkness, but he didn’t need to. One hand on the fence, he picked a direction and went, the fence allowing him to brace himself as he went along, praying it would take him somewhere.

But instead, it took others to him. The barking of dogs in the distance sent a wave of hope, then a wall of anxiety and dread in the face of not knowing what he was getting in to. Looking around, he saw lights bobbing out from the other side of the fence, shapes moving alongside. Letting go of the fence, Bruce took a step back, waiting for their arrival with his hands raised. A voice called out, spouting Spanish, Bruce only making out a bit of it. As they made it ever closer, Bruce sputtered, but no words came out, his throat too dry. Covering his mouth and trying to make due, he finally gagged, “No hablo m...mucho español. Solo un poco. I-” Bruce stopped, a series of coughs bursting from his chest before he groaned, “...speak English.”

To tired to even look up as lights looked over him, Bruce heard, “Hey he needs medical attention!” He nudged his partner, yanking the dog on its leash back, before pulling out a walkie to call it in. The other grasped the fence, looking around, likely trying to figure where Bruce was to go from here.

Bruce dared asked, “Where am I?” The guard’s head shot to him. Bruce couldn’t see much with the flashlights ensuring they only appeared as silhouettes. The guard answered, “El Diablo Air Force Base.”

Relief flooding through him, Bruce kept his hands where they could be seen as he sunk to his knees, bloodied feet taking any reprieve they could get. Voice raspy, he let out a low laugh simply out of relief.

“Sorry, I’m late for work. I got here as fast as I could.”

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

_{Location: Present Day Navapo, New Mexico}

Seeing Green – 1.01

---

_{Interaction(s): None}

Previously: N/A

The sound of tires against pavement screeched, the scent of burnt rubber permeating in moments. “Oh fuck oh god auuugh... What the fuck.”

Hands gripping the wheel of is pickup, Bruce Banner gawked at the streets before him. Watching the green coupe crossing the highway he’d just been about to turn on, he pulled his car over, leaning out, intent on a shaken child with a backpack, who’d simply been heading home when that car went up on the sidewalk, barreling towards him before turning off at the last second, all right in plain sight, rubber based smoke still floating about.

“Are you okay!?” Bruce found himself shouting. The boy nodded his eyes wide, Bruce’s intensity likely not helping, but Bruce was focused now. Snapping his head back to the road, he stepped on the gas, the other vehicle still visible in the distance. Blaring past his turn, he pursued, streaming forward well past the low speed limit, keeping trail as they turned. The day was hot and dusty yet again in Navapo, meaning there weren’t a whole lot of people about off the main roads in this afternoon, giving Bruce ample room to follow, keeping pace until they pulled into an old shopping center, a few cars parked outside but no one about in the heat. As they pulled in front of a smoke shop, Bruce slammed into the space just past them, taking his keys and storming out of his car as the driver came out of his. They couldn’t have looked much more different, Bruce in his glasses, white dress shirt, and dark gray slacks, with the driver in a tank top and black bandanna, his face thin and stubble blonde. He watched Bruce incredulously as he approached, anger more than evident on his face.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he demanded, on guard but not aware anything was even wrong. Bruce’s eyes might have shot out of his head. “D-di-did you not see the kid you almost hit?” Bruce felt his arm trembling, his glare harsh, but even though he was no doubt going to be late for work, even though he no doubt looked ridiculous, none of that was anywhere in his mind. “You went up on the curb because you weren’t paying any goddamn attention!”

Pointing a finger, the man spat, “Hey I didn’t see shit, and I didn’t do nothing, now you step off, bitch.” Gait thundering, he moved on, ripping open the door and going inside. Bruce stared daggers at the neon signs filling the entryway before his attention was pulled away by a passenger, the driver’s Hispanic friend having pulled himself out of the window, looking at Bruce over the hood, claiming, “He wasn’t close to hitting him, relax man. Shit.” Flabbergasted, Bruce had no more words, the man going back into the car and pulling out a phone, busying himself in its screen.

Standing there, completely dismissed, none of Bruce’s anger was going to just fade away. He could call the cops, but more than likely the kid had moved on by now, spooked and just wanting to get home, and Bruce couldn’t know how much the family would actually press the issue with no evidence and barely an incident to even speak of. And yet, he couldn’t shake his feelings, he mind dwelling on the worst case, the kid no longer having anything ever to say, how the parents might have felt, that sheer devastation. Friends at school needing to be explained what it meant when he was never going to come back. Bruce’s fist continued to tremble, his breath coming on tensely. Moving to the backs of the vehicles, he glanced at the license plate of their car, then to his own, which just last night had nearly hit something innocent, and not without guilt at the near miss.

And then, Bruce was gone.

---

Those within the smoke shop, a tired cashier behind a thick plastic barrier and the blonde driver, had only just been making a typical transaction. Neither had any expectation or explanation when the green coupe had come barreling through the entrance, showering the room in glass, hitting the cashier booth and shifting its trajectory, knocking the driver in the leg and merely shaking the cashier physically and mentally. By the time the dust had settled, the authorities swooping in for cleanup, no one was more or less aware of what the hell had actually happened. Security cameras only took footage from the entryway itself, the only part visible from outside was the grill of the coupe before it suddenly rushed forward into the building. Both the passenger and driver walked away with some injuries, but no one had seen what had happened at all, and the evidence was left...wanting, to say the least. The passenger remembered hearing or seeing nothing until the car was launched forward, and the only unusual evidence on the car was a dent on the rear. Both driver and passenger insisted it hadn’t been there before, and it was too small to be from an impact, or at least not one that could have thrust the car into the building. More likely someone driving had simply backed in to another vehicle unknowingly. With no conclusive evidence, the only remaining line of thought turn to ‘metahumans’. The unexplainable could easily be pushed away, fears still lingering from recent events making it so much easier to accept, at least personally. Legally, paying heed to the public spooks of ‘metas’ or ‘muties’ wasn’t looked highly upon, even if the thought was always there in the back of the mind. But while it may have been brought up as a possibility, it was just as quickly dismissed: no evidence or witnesses, and no potential suspects, superpowers or no. The case went ice cold just as quickly as it came in, in spite of its heated onset.

---

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

Incredible...

T H E H U L K

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^{_{B R U C E B A N N E R ♦ N U C L E A R P H Y S I C I S T ♦ N A V A P O ♦ I N D E P E N D E N T}}

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:

---

^{"No one likes me when I’m angry, not even me."}

Generally speaking, Bruce Banner will simply be my take on the familiar character, with some changes to enable more potential of being someone heroic. But the Hulk actually becoming a hero won’t be an easy journey. At the start, Bruce has yet to even truly realize the fallout of the experiment that has irreparably changed him. He’s still living comfortably with his college job, a girlfriend, and her dad who hates him, but as his anger comes to bubble at the surface, it’s only a matter of time before everything crumbles around him. And it will, beginning a life of being on the run for a man who just wants to be better.

C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:

---

It’s easy to see the appeal in wanting to explore anger, such a core human emotion. Through Bruce I intend to play a character who’s burning want to act had been held back by his own insecurities and fears, but now has an outlet for his repression, one that will come at a great cost until the day finally comes where he can control himself. I plan to write him as an empathetic person, tending to put himself in the shoes of literally anyone else, and in turn connecting to them, extreme cases forcing him to embrace his desires and turn into a guardian demon, blowing up out of uncontrollable emotions for the sake of another. He won’t be doing wholly good until he manages to control himself, but his actions may not be wholly bad either. Through that righteous rage he may one day be a hero, but good intent doesn’t necessarily lead to good results. Even if his journey to being a force of good turns out to be shorter than I might expect at present, he’ll still be a character who can all too easily hurt that which he doesn’t want to hurt, and demons from his past (his father in particular) will always be there.

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:

---

Notable Characters in Bruce’s Story:
Betty Ross – Childhood friend and current girlfriend of Bruce.
General Thaddeus “Thunderbolt” Ross (to possibly become The Red Hulk) – Protective father of Betty and member of the US Air Force.
Brian Banner (to become The Purple Man) – Bruce’s estranged father, not set to reenter his life until the world knows of his identity as The Hulk.
Rick Jones – Lab partner and work friend of Bruce’s.
Major Glenn Talbot – Air force member and acquaintance of Bruce’s.

Other Potential Rogues:
The Abomination (Emil Blonsky)
Flux (Benjamin Tibbets)
Leader (Samuel Sterns)

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

Pen bouncing against his forehead, Bruce’s hazel eyes snapped open, body jerking in his seat as he looked for the source of the offending projectile, mind on alert. Rick chortled, “I’d wonder if the accident just made you sleepier, but then I remembered you’ve always been like that.”

“Hrmn,” Bruce grunted, hand scratching at his brown stubble and adjusting his askew glasses. Turning his chair back to the computer screen, half finished data entry still glowing at him, Bruce withdrew into his seat, head lolling over the back of his chair, the man groaning, “If this town didn’t have so many dogs barking at all hours...”

The edge of Rick’s lip twitched, “It’s not Betty keeping you up? Or, I guess it’d be mutual.”

Hunching back over his keyboard, hands going to work, Bruce admitted, “We might as well sleep in different beds. I get home late and she gets up early.”

“I was talking abou-”

“I know. Exactly what you are talking about.” Rick gave a knowing chortle as he turned back to his business. Bruce looked at the clock to see he was still stuck for a few more hours, but Rick said, “You wanna leave early? I can finish up for you.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow, not knowing Rick to be so charitable with his free time. “Really?” Rick glanced around at the nearly empty computer lab at the base. “I don’t have much else to do. Get some sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Heart soothed with eternal gratitude, Bruce logged himself off, gladly taking off into the evening air of Los Diablos Air Force Base. The setting sun started to bring in the chill of the desert night, but it wasn’t a long walk to the parking lots from the lab. Slipping into his dingy pickup, Bruce let out a sigh of relief. Head leaning back, he turned to see the lab again, one hand grasping at his chest, the spot where he was struck with the beam of radiation that should have killed him. It was his own fault, since he took no heed to the security policies he’d had to explain himself, but mostly he was glad that aside from the hospital bills and the worry, it really hadn’t caused much trouble.

The Navapo streetlights were dim and dirty as Bruce mumbled his way through the light drone of the town in twilight the windshield of his car was framed in dust, only the footprints of his windshield wipers having only just left space enough to see. Turning through a light, a sudden motion made him jump, slamming on the breaks. His pickup jerked to a stop, Bruce looking out his slightly open window to see a mangy mutt skirting off, clearly panicked. Yelping noises echoing in his brain, Bruce flinched, suddenly crushed with a wave of remembrance, the memories hardly nostalgic, going back to shortly before the accident. Cringing, the pace of his vehicle slowed, suddenly a bit less eager to get home, but a sluggish pace did not steer him away from his course, and he drove in his apartment complex no less guilty. Mind still racing, replaying dogged memories he couldn’t seem to shake the more he thought about them, he stumbled to his door wishing he could think of just about anything else. As quietly as he could, he unlocked the door and slipped in, not even turning on the light as he peeked in, spotting the light of the television blinking about the living area, a shape unmoving under a blanket on the couch. Door closing with but a faint hush, lock clicking closed, Bruce kept his step light as he moved in deeper.

“I’m not sleeping you know.”

“Oh jesus!” Bruce gasped out at the noise, hand jumping to clutch his chest, the man stepping back from shock. Catching a breath, he cracked a smile, as did Betty, his overreaction quickly becoming a source of amusement. Finding it in him to laugh at his foolishness, he joined Betty on the couch, taking a seat. “You’re home early.”

“Rick took over,” Bruce explained. Glancing at the TV, ads for some drug with about a million horrible possible side effects playing, Bruce’s mood shifted back to before the door opened, shoulders slumping. Betty took notice, shifting out of her light blanket a bit, mid length dark hair rolling back over the shoulder of her white t-shirt. Not even giving her the chance to inquire, Bruce admitted, “I almost hit a dog. On the way back.”

Slumping back, Betty groaned, “It’s Navapo, I’m surprised they aren’t barking up a storm right now.” With her leaving the subject on the ground, Bruce noticed he’d been fiddling with his fingers. So did Betty. “What?” The woman sat up, torso poking out of her blanket as she put the TV out of her sight. Bruce couldn’t help but swallow, heart starting to pick up pace even from just her appearance in the scattered TV light. “A little while ago, before the accident...with the dog...” Bruce murmured. Betty closed her eyes in understanding, moving to the remote and lowering the TV’s volume, quickly saying, “I’m sorry.”

Bruce stopped, blinking as he glanced at her out of the side of his eyes. Even in the low light he could see her slump. “I...you were trying to protect me.”

Bruce flinched, “But I didn’t...I don’t get angry like that. That’s not me.” Grasping and putting pressure on one finger, he heard that yelp of pain echo in his head again and cringed at himself. It hadn’t even been a particularly big dog that went for them, went for Betty, but Bruce put all his strength into that kick, and then had to watch in shame as it trudged away in pain. Betty admitted, “I got mad at you because I didn’t realize what had happened.”

Bruce sighed, “But I didn’t have to do it.” Betty watched him as he kept his head down, reasoning, “I could have just...yelled or something. Spooked it a little.” Betty was quiet, slowly reaching out a hand, resting it on his knee. Bruce felt his body tense, and his hands stopped fidgeting, but he did not push her away. He never would. Betty said, “Well, what happened, happened. Maybe if there’s a next time...”

Bruce winced. “I don’t want there to be a next time. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Betty gave him a look. “I’m tougher than that.” Bruce knew. Taking her hand off his knee, Betty kept quiet as Bruce let out a breath of relief. Separating his hands, he took a breath before making a request. “I’ll do what I can but...if you feel like something’s wrong, could you...”

“...try and stop me?”

Betty tilted her head, hair falling over her face as she smiled knowingly. Grateful for everything, knowing he didn’t deserve a thing, he couldn’t quite look at her, though a smile found its way to his face. Looking up to the TV screen, actors moving about in intense silence, it became blurred as Bruce choked back tears. Standing up, he swallowed, managing to say with just enough of a casual tone, “I’m getting a shower.”

“Please,” Betty remarked, taking up her relaxed spot on the couch again and reaching for the remote. Bruce felt the edges of his lips twitch as he moved out, amazed at her ability to flip between the sincere and the sarcastic. Amazed at her everything.

If anything happened to her, Bruce didn’t know what he would do.

P O S T C A T A L O G:

---

Seeing Green

1.01
1.02
1.03
1.04
1.05
1.06
1.07

A Fresh Set of Eyes

2.01
2.02
2.03
2.04
2.05

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

<Snipped quote by Pacifista>


Your sheet is approved! Welcome aboard and hold on tight, things get a little crazy around here.

@Lord Wraith

Glad to be aboard, looking forward to joining in!

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

I have updated my submission for approval. @Lord Wraith

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

Don't worry, I won't be spooked off that easily. Or do worry, maybe? :B

Thanks for the welcome, I'm excited to get to writing come season 2. I've got a bit of the sample done and hoo boy do I have some fun plans in mind.

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

I looked at the sheets just not all the sub characters. ;~;

I also didn't realize the 'man all the main guys have been used' was a sentiment with history. I'll just curl up into a ball of ignorance and die now. :D

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

I never said 'taken' or not, lol. Even if they aren't in the game, there are still takes on many of those characters in the thread's history, and I'd just defined 'major' by the biggest stuff I know, only really considering the main 7 leaguers (from JL/JLU) and the main 6 Avengers (MCU). Plus I was wrong even by my own arbitrary standard I was thinking of since I forgot the Hawks and Black Widow, so derp on that.

I should be able to finish the sample post within a couple days (Wednesday at latest) but I'm waiting for word from IceHeart either way.