Metadeliquents

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Here's my comic about a team of kid superheroes called The Metadeliquents (http://www.mediaminer.org/fanfic/view_st.php/41023).

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And here's a pic of one of my characters, Punchline the Clown. He's sort of a cross between Batman and the Joker. Once I get my scanner working again (I had to reboot the computer and I loss the disk for it), I'll be posting more pics.

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And here's a pic of Deathtone, a sound-based superhero.

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I also have some pics of one of the main villains in the series, the Alchemist. One pic shows him in his uniform. The other one shows his face at various several different angles and facial expressions. He won't show up until later in the series.

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And here's two pics of a character that will never be in Metadeliqents: Matt Murdock (he has an ironclad contract with Marvel comics).

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Metadeliquents: Issue 7
Rita vs. The Animal Kingdom: Beware the wrath of The Tamer
All characters are the intellectual property of Timothy Weaver, alias, Crossover Maniac.

Hillcrest Institute of Animal Behavior

The room has beige walls and ceiling and a thin maroon carpet. Two tables laying side-by-side took up most of the space inside the conference room. Papers were neatly stacked in a pile in front of each of the attendants of the meeting whom were all dressed in business attire. One of them, a rather short man with ratty hair and a large nose who was shorter than anyone else in the conference room, was fidgeting in his chair while nervously shifting through his papers. A man across the room took notice of his nervous co-worker and gave him a barbed smile as he tapped his neighbor’s shoulder and snickered at the man.

“...and for the last item on our agenda,” a woman in a blue business dress with glasses and red hair done in a bun, “concerns the research, and I use this term loosely, of one of our colleges.” The woman looked towards the nervous man. “Noah Pavlov.”

“Yes, Mrs. Darby.” The man who was pointing at Pavlov earlier winked at him and gave Pavlov another barbed smile.

“Mr. Pavlov, do you honestly think that anyone working for this research facility can make outrageous claims of being able to control the will of animals with a push of a button and still keep our credibility.”

“Ma’am, um...well...I have p...p...proof and...” Pavlov stumbled through his explanation as his co-workers giggled at the man’s expense.

“I need more proof than your homemade clips from America’s Stupid Animal Tricks.” Mrs. Darby took a pink piece of paper out of her briefcase. “I’ll be blunt: you’re only here because our generous head of research took pity on you, but that won’t cut it with me. I want you to scrap your project and write a *real* research paper or else lose your job.”

“But I’ve been working on this for years.”

“I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT!” Darby screamed at Pavlov. “You got until the end of the month and not a day sooner. This meeting is adjourned.”

Everyone made their way out of the conference room except Noah Pavlov who just sat in his seat covering his face while the others glared at him.

“You might as well start packing,” one man gloated.



It was about 10 pm when Mrs. Darby made her way to the parking lot. It was illuminated in the yellow glow of streetlamps spaced every four parking spots. A mangy light brown dog crawled out from under one of the parked cars. Darby tried to walk around but the dog got back in her way.

Darby swung her briefcase in front of the stray dog. “Shoo! Go away!” Suddenly, the animal’s hair stood up, and it started growling and barking at her. Darby backed away from the dog only to walk into something large and furry. She turned around to see another dog, this time a husky trying to take a bite out of her leg. Darby leaped back and running from both dogs only to be confronted by a pack of snarling canines. Foam poured out of their mouths full of glistering sharp teeth.

“I worked too long for some stuck up wench to ruin my plans.”

“Who said that?” Darby shrieked. Then saw a transmitter on the collar of the first dog. “Noah, is that you?” The pack slowly moved in on Darby. “Alright, I’m convinced. It’s a bit overboard, but you made your point.” The pack crept even closer to Darby. “How about an extra $10,000 in funding?”

“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a tightwad?” Darby covered her face with her briefcase and screamed as she was buried under the marauding pack of dogs.





Rita got off the school bus and noticed a brand new red compact car parked just outside the garage. “I don’t know anyone who owns a car like this,” thought Rita. “Could it be Jeremy and his bunch trying to get back their teleporter?” She carefully turned the doorknob and cracked the door opened peeking inside. “TJ, I’m home!” Rita said hesitantly. Not hearing a reply, she slipped off her shoes and socks leaving them besides the door. Tiptoeing through the house, Rita looked in the kitchen and then the dining room. Unable to find anyone in there, Rita walked upstairs and knocked on her brother’s door.

“Come in,” said TJ from the other side of the door. When Rita opened the door, she saw TJ sitting at his desk next to one of the most beautiful women Rita ever saw in her entire life. She had black, flowing hair. Her skin was medium complexion and without a blemish except for a mold on her left cheek. She was wearing a tight white sweater and blue jeans and diamond-studded earrings. “Megami, this is my little sister, Rita.”

Megami strolled over to Rita and stooped down. “You’re TJ little sister?” Rita nodded. Megami hugged Rita who opened her eyes wide in shock that a complete stranger would walk up to her and hug her for no reason. “You look so cute; just like my little sister.” Megami turned to TJ and said, “I don’t know why she said you look....what was the word...docky.”

“It’s ‘dorky’ Megami.”

“TJ!” yelled Rita.

“Don’t tease your cute little sister TJ,” said Megami.

“Megami’s from Japan,” said TJ. “She’s moved here with her parents a year ago. Megami’s been kind enough to let me use her book and study with her.”

“It was the least I could do,” said Megami. She sat back down next to Rita’s brother. “TJ made me feel welcome since I met him. You’re lucky to have such a sweet brother.” She took Rita into her arms giving her a big bear hug. “And you’re brother is lucky to have suck a kawaii sister.”

“That means cute in Japanese.”

Rita smiled. “Oh yeah! What could I have ever done to deserve having TJ as a brother! (Nothing! That’s what. Not even Diamond Joe deserves TJ.) Well, I’ll leave you alone to study.” Rita tried getting out Megumi’s vice-like grip. “You remind of my little sister. Can you be my kawaii little sister from America?”

“Sure, no problem.”

Megumi reluctantly let Rita out of her bear hug. Rita slipped out of the room shutting the door behind her. “What a pig!” she said under her breath. “No wonder why he didn’t want the money for a new book: he’s got a fashion model for a study buddy. And worse, he made me feel guilty about it. Oh, he ticks me off. And she’s a weirdo, too.” Rita started to go back to her room when the phone rang. She picked it up and said “Hello.”

(continued on the next post)

[CrossoverManiac]

(continued from the last post)

“Hey Rita,” said a frantic voice of a young man on the other end. Rita recognized who it was: Randy Taylor, one of TJ’s friends from high school.

“Oh hi Randy, what’s up?”

“Tell your bro to turn on the news right now.”

“Why? What going...”

“Just do it right this second!”

“TJ, Randy’s on the phone, and he said for you to turn on the TV.” TJ heeded the message that Rita relayed from the phone. On the TV screen was the anchorman from PQR Evenings News, Brett Burton. Burton was a man in his late thirties with brown hair and eyes. “...and we go now to our newest field reporter, formally from our affiliate station KTAW 32, Mary Nodell.” Rita recognized her as the reporter that interviewed Diamond Joe two weeks ago. Brett Burton turned his right as if Mary Nodell was over his shoulder. “Hello, Mary,” Burton said dispassionately.

“Hello, Brett. I’m here at the New York City shipyards where we are witnessing the largest single migration of whales to one location in recorded history. Over two hundred whales from 20 different species are now crowding the area around the shipyards. Due to the overcrowding and the rising possibility of mass beaching, it is feared that many of these majestic animals will die unless they can be sent back into the ocean. In addition to the ecological damage, all traffic to and from the ports have been blocked, essentially cutting the big apple off from the rest of the world.” A man gestured to the reporter off camera and handed her a paper. Nodell twitched for a moment in shock. “You’re kidding me,” she said to the man off camera. The man said no to Mary who still couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She then mumbled something to herself just low enough not to be picked up by her mike. “This just in: more than 1000 whales, some of whom are almost 100 feet long, are heading towards this location. Mass whale beach appear to be certain. This is Mary Nodell reporting to you live from the Big Apple.”

“Hey TJ,” said Rita. “I’m going to my room. I have a lot of homework to do, and I could be busy the rest of the evening.”

“Okay, Rita, but you have to clean up the kitchen before you go to bed tonight,” said TJ.

“Sure thing, TJ.” Rita ran into her room and changed into her Gatekeeper outfit.





“But why doesn’t Seth have to come all the way out here,” Calvin Levy, a.k.a. Dusk, griped as he stared across the harbor at the school of whales swimming around the massive cargo ships lining the docks. One of the whales spouted a cloud of mist from its blowhole.

“That’s because he has an appointment with the dentist and his mom won’t let him miss to ‘play with his little friends’,” Gatekeeper replied condescendingly upon mentioning Deathtone’s mother. “And it’s Deathtone. What part of ‘secret identity’ you don’t understand?”

“Sorry.”

“Sorry won’t make everyone forget our real names if you blurt it out.” Gatekeeper tapped Punchline, who was throwing slabs of meat in the air for his giant mutant rabbit, Mr. Whiskers, to catch, on the shoulder. “Can you figure out why all these whales are here?”

Punchline let out a big sigh. “Just when I was having fun...” Punchline took out of his trench coat a tiny black box with a red button. When Punchline pressed the red button, the box exploded into a satellite dish, control box, and oversize headphones. Punchline fiddled around with the control box until he could hear whale songs. “Let’s see what whale songs made the Top 40.”

“Dusk,” asked Gatekeeper, “if I get a boat, could you tow these whales back to the ocean?”

“Are you kidding?” yelled Dusk. “Those things must weigh 1000 tons each.”

“Actually, the largest whale in the world was only 150 tons,” Punchline corrected Dusk.

“Who asked you?”

“Aw come on. Tugboats tow ships all of the time and they’re bigger than whales.”

“Do I look like a tugboat to you?”

“You know,” Punchline interjected, “you could let the ships run over the whales.”

“Punchline!” The Gatekeeper put her hands to her side and leaned forward.

“It’ll be just like the highway, except you’re on a boat...and the roadkill is really, really big.”

“I hope you were joking be...”

“Hold it! Something doesn’t sound right.” Punchline twisted a dial on the control box. “Some of the whale songs aren't coming from the whales.” Punchline picked up his gear and jumped into the water. The others, including Mr. Whiskers, peeped underneath the peer. A minute later, Punchline came up with a silver disk in his hand. It was two inches across and about as thin as a quarter. “How about a little help will ya?” Gatekeeper made a portal above Punchline while Mr. Whiskers picked his master up by his trench coat with its mouth.

“What is it?” asked Dawn.

Punchline dropped the object and pulled out his clown hammer and smashed it. “It was a loud speaker used to trick these whales into coming here.” The moment Punchline smashed the speaker, some of the whales swam away from where the group of young superheroes were.

“How many more are there?”

“I don’t know exactly, but there’s got to be a bunch of’em.”

“Well, go find them while the rest of us can get them.” For the next hour, Gatekeeper was opening portals all over New York Harbor, Dusk’s shadow was rummaging through the water, and Dawn was shooting his lasers at any speaker he cold see while Punchline directed them to the speakers. As they destroyed the speakers, the school of whales thinned out until all of them was gone. Unknown to the children, their actions didn’t go unnoticed to a certain reporter.

“Hey you!” a voice called out to Gatekeeper. Mary Nodell and a cameraman hiked across the docks heading towards her next big break: the new kid superhero team. “You there, the one dressed like a ghost. I have a few questions I want to ask you.”

“Well, too bad,” Rita barked, “I don’t have any answers for you.”

“I have some questions for you, Miss Reporter,” mocked Punchline. “Like, who’s The Tamer?”

Nodell dropped her mike and shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You must. You said it yourself: ‘I can’t believe The Tamer would go this far’. I can read lips, Miss Reporter.” Punchline leaped on Nodell grabbing around her shoulders and cuddled up to her. “Is he your boyfriend?”

Nodell pushed Punchline off of her. “Get off of me you little delinquent.” Mr. Whiskers snarled at Nodell and would have attacked her if not for Punchline telling Mr. Whiskers to heel.

“So, you know who was doing this, right?” asked Gatekeeper.

“I wasn’t suppose to tell anyone until he was finished showing. His name is The Tamer. He got some sort of animal control power. He wanted to make this big entrance before I introduced him to the world.”

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know. I only saw him once. He has a bunch of wild animals escorting him around. Since then, he just calls me from a payphone.”

“Can you call him back?” Just then, Nodell’s cell phone rang. She answered the phone and handed it to Rita.

“You’re that girl that took out Diamond Joe, right. What’s your name?”

“The Gatekeeper.”

“Well Gatekeeper, I’m The Tamer and because you ruined my big opening, not one, but dozens of coastal cities will be invaded by my whales. And it won’t end there. My mastery over animals isn’t limited to the oceans. I’ll make my demands tomorrow after the world has a taste of my power.”



The next day

“More port cities have been invaded by whales.” A blue rectangle formed on the television screen next to Brett Burton’s head along with a map of the US with red dots surrounded the left and right sides of the country. The scene on the television screen changed to a line of cargo ships that stretched out for miles. “The remaining sea ports can not handle the additional ships that once made their stop in the occupied ports causing shortages in gasoline, electronics, and other imports,” the scene changes to a deserted dock, “as well as costing the jobs of thousands of dock workers as well farmers and employees of companies that export goods to other countries.” The television screen returns to Brett Burton. “The President has declared a state of emergency for the entire country. Starting tomorrow, gasoline will be rationed out to drivers in order to advert a possible shortage. However, the President will not open up the strategic petroleum reserve for the time being.” A second person appears on the screen along side Burton. The man wore the red uniform of a circus ring master and a tight, black mask over his face. “The man responsible for this calamity, calling himself The Tamer, will make his demands known on this station.” Burton tapped the paper in his hand on his desk evening them out. “Mr. Tamer. How and why are you doing this?”

“You know better than that Brett.” The Tamer mocked Burton. “No good magician ever tells his secrets.” The Tamer raised his hand and pointed out his index finger. “As for the why, it’s simple: money. Nothing more and nothing less.”

“But why blockade half of the major sea ports in the United States? Why not market your technology?”

“Because it is only a fraction of what I can make by bringing this country to its knees. The US government must pay me $1 billion per month to keep its ports open.”

“It’s not too late to reconsider your demands.”

(continue on the next post)

[CrossoverManiac]

(continued from the last post)

“It is, and this interview is over.” The Tamer almost walked about before he turned back to the camera. “And this is a message to that little brat, Gatekeeper. Get in my way again, and whales will be the least of your worries.” With that, the camera feed from The Tamer stopped leaving only static on his side of the split screen.

“There you have it. One billion in cash to keep the ports of America opened for a month.”

Punchline switched off his little his portable TV and reclined back into his sleeping bag only to be aroused by Mr. Whiskers’ snarling at the bushes.

“Oh boy,” squealed Punchline, “I have visitors.” He hops on top of his rabbit’s back. “Gitty up, horsy.” The gigantic rabbit hopped through the forest until they came across a familiar face.

“I remember you. You were the cop at the museum Diamond Joe looted.”

“It’s Office Alan Hannity to be exact. Could you step off the giant man-eating bunny?”

“Sure.” Punchline slid off Mr. Whiskers. “And what can I do for you?”

“I need to speak to your boss.”




“So you know who the Tamer is, right?” Rita Williams a.k.a. the Gatekeeper took the envelop from Officer Hannity. She looked over the contents: a printout of flight records, a picture of some scientists, and the address of a laboratory.

“I know someone who works at the airport, and this person looked up the airline records for anyone who took a flight to the cities the Tamer sent those armies of whales to. It took a while, but I found one person who might be the Tamer.”

Rita glanced over the printout and noticed that one of the names was circled. “Noah Pavlov?”

“He works at the Hillcrest Institute of Zoology specializing in animal behavior. I don’t think it’s a coincidence. But...”

“But what? Why don’t you arrest him?”

“But it doesn’t prove he’s the Tamer. It’s a bit complicated. What I need for you to do is keep an eye out on the guy and wait for him to make his next move. If you catch in the act, you’ll have all the evidence you need.”

‘By the way, how did know where Punchline was.”

“We kept getting calls about Bigfoot running around the wood. Only Bigfoot doesn’t have rabbit feet.”

“Mr. Whiskers, I told you no walkies before sunset,” Punchline scolded his rabbit while waving his finger at it.

Rita formed a portal next to Punchline. “Come on, we got to pay Noah Pavlov a little visit.”



Next day at the Hillcrest Institute of Zoology

Imagine yourself inside a laboratory. There are three long tables stretching across the width of the room. On top of the tables were animal test subjects: rabbits, insects, two raccoons, and a cat. Five scientists, all dressed in lab coats, were running tests on the animals and taking notes. There were two to each table except for the table in the back. The scientist in the back was a short man, not even five feet tall with thin, ratty hair and a pasty white complexion. He was giving a raccoon commands and taking notes on how it responded. One of the scientists in the front, a woman with short black hair and glasses, pointed to the man in the back of the room.

“Look like Noah finally got himself a girlfriend.”

“That’s mean,” the other scientist, a man with red hair and a gotte, sharply whispered. “You shouldn’t say that about the raccoon.” The man and the woman tried not to giggle but couldn’t keep themselves from doing so. The man in the back, Noah Pavlov, looked up at the two who waved and pointed at him and laughed among themselves. Noah tried to go back to his work, but his test subjected started running around the room in a panic along with the rest of the animals.




“Mr. North, sir,” said a security guard pointing out five costumed children to a tall handsome man in his early thirty sporting blonde hair and an expensive looking dark blue three-piece suit. “Here’s the little brats I told you about.”

“Now, now George,” said Mr. North. “That’s no way to speak to children, especially if they are who I think they are.” He shook Rita’s hand. “You’re the kid superheroes I heard about right? I’m Bob North, head of research. What can I do for you?”

“We’re looking for Noah Pavlov,” said the Gatekeeper. “He works here right?”

“Yeah, what did Noah do this time?”

“He’s The Tamer,” Seth Burrell/Deathtone called out from behind the Gatekeeper.

“Deathtone!”

Bob North shook his head. “Everyone warned me that Pavlov was a bit strange.”

“Try uber-dork,” said a man, also in a lab coat, said while he was passing by.

North made a call on his cell phone. In a minute, Noah Pavlov was being escorted by two burly security guards.

“Bob, what’s going on? The lab animals went nuts and there’s still some running around.”

“That’s her fault,” said Punchline pointing to Rita.

“How,” asked Pavlov.

“Like this,” and Rita shoved Pavlov into a portal leading to a police station.

(continue on the next post)

[CrossoverManiac]

(continued from the last post)


“What the @#$@ are you doing here and who’s this guy?” A cop in uniform cursed. He was sitting behind a desk with Noah Pavlov and Rita’s bunch in front of him.

“What’s going on here is we caught The Tamer,” said Rita as she shoved Noah up to the policeman’s desk.

“But I’m not this Tamer guy,” Pavlov screamed.

The police man folded his hands together and looked sternly at Rita. “You have proof he is?”

Rita handed him the papers Officer Hannity gave him. The policeman looked over the flight records and papers on Pavlov. “Where’s this Hillcrest Institute at? I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s in another state.”

“And how did you get these?” The policeman said holding the flight records in his hand while Pavlov glanced over them.

Rita was about to tell him but then she saw Officer Hannity waving his hands and shaking his head. “We got them ourselves.”

“I can explain. Someone broke into my house and copied my credit card number. I never had bad credit until ...”

“Shut up!” yelled the policeman in Noah’s face.

“Okay.”

“Now, let me get this straight: you kidnapped a man, brought him across state lines, *illegally* obtaining his personal records, and then expect me to arrest a guy that was in another jurisdiction without an arrest warrant?”

“Is that going to be a problem?” Kevin asked sheepishly.

“No, it won’t because I’m arresting you. That’ll solve everything.” But before the policeman could get his hands on the children, Rita teleported them out of there.





“I told you just keep an eye on Pavlov!” Officer Hannity and Rita were at Punchline’s campsite. Officer Hannity was breathing heavily and sweating while Rita slumped her shoulders in shame. “You were supposed to wait for him to make the next move.”

“But why? You gave us proof.”

“You’d think I ask you to keep an eye on him if we could arrest him? Look, I checked; he had an alibi. It’s possible he faked the break-in, but without proof, we have to assume someone else was using his credit card account. That’s why I took evidence and gave it to you. We couldn’t stop him if he tried anything.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hannity.”

“It’s my fault,” said Officer Hannity as he took a deep breath. “I should have told you this before.” Detective Hannity fished in his pockets for his keys. “Listen, if anything comes up, dial my cell phone number.” Hannity then slapped Rita on the back. “You’ll get’em kid.”

After Hannity left, Rita waited around for Punchline, who was suppose to meet up with her and the detective. Rita was about to go off to look for Punchline, when she heard trees being knocked down and bushes shaking. It was Mr. Whiskers hopping through the woods trampling everything its path. Mr. Whiskers stopped right next to Rita, grabbed her by her cowl, and tossed her on his back.

“We’re being invaded!” Punchline sat on top of Mr. Whiskers back stooped over like a horse jockey in a race.

“What are you talking about?” Punchline pointed to the giant black cloud behind them.

“What are those?”

“Bees, angry bees,” said Punchline. Rita, in all of the confusion, wasn’t aware of the buzzing noise from the black cloud. “Teleport us out’ta here!”

“No can do,” the Gatekeeper shook her head. “they might sting somebody else. Besides, we got bulletproof clothes.”

“It’s no good. Bees can crawl underneath it.”

“Isn’t there a factory around here?”

“Yeah.”

“Get me close enough to see the smokestacks.”

“I get it.” Punchline pulled on Mr. Whiskers ears turning him to the right. When they were close enough to see the factory’s smokestacks, the Gatekeeper opened her portals over the top of the smokestacks filling the woods with grey smog. The ground was littered with thousands of bees on their backs twitching. However, Rita’s little trick wasn’t foolproof. All three of the heroes inhaled their share of smog and were coughing and gasping for air. Their eyes were watering blinding them. Mr. Whiskers stumbled around looking for a way out of the smoke. Rita tried opening a portal for the mutant rabbit to walk through but Mr. Whiskers went the wrong direction. Suddenly, a dart hit Mr. Whiskers on the ear causing him to rev up throwing Rita and Punchline off his back with both of them landing on their butts.

“Impressive little trick you have there. I thought the bees would have finished you off by now.” The Tamer mockingly clapped his hands. To left was a giant grizzly bear and to his right a pair of panthers.

“The Tamer,” Rita coughed.

“Did you really think you’d get away with tossing me to the cops?”

“So, you are Noah Pavlov.”

“And I bet you can add and say your ABC’s too, but I’m here for that amazing beast of yours.

“Mr. Whiskers,” Punchline whispered before springing up and grabbing his pet rabbit by the pelt. The Tamer raised a whip at Mr. Whiskers and punched a button on the handle. Mr. Whiskers leaped at the Gatekeeper almost landing on top of her with Punchline still holding on to his fur. The Gatekeeper ran behind an oak tree three feet across hoping to keep something between herself and the rampaging mutant rabbit. Her hopes were dashed when Mr. Whiskers batted the tree with his paw uprooting it despite the old oak’s thick roots. Mr. Whiskers turned his attentions from Rita to Punchline. First, Mr. Whiskers tried turning his head to bite Punchline in half but he managed scoot out of the way. Then, Mr. Whiskers tried bucking him off, but Punchline held on too tight for the rabbit to throw him off. This bought the Gatekeeper enough time to open portal and come out behind Mr. Whiskers.

“Punchline! Let go of Mr. Whiskers!” Punchline formed a portal next to Punchline. The clown child, however, would not let go even when Mr. Whiskers tried hopping on the Gatekeeper again but not before she teleported out of the way. “Punchline! The Tamer’s controlling Mr. Whiskers. He’s trying to kill you.” The Gatekeeper created another portal for Punchline, but Punchline wouldn’t let go.

“Mr. Tamer, sir,” said Punchline crying with tears washing away his clown makeup. “Don’t take Mr. Whiskers away from me. He’s my only friend.”

The Tamer hung his head in his hand. “How pathetic!”

“I’ll work for you if you don’t take him from me.”

“Punchline!” Rita screamed in protest.

“Hmmm,” The Tamer held his chin. “Did you create this monster?”

“He’s not a monster. He’s my best friend, but I did make him.”

“Sure, I can use you.” The Tamer pressed another button on his whip handle. Mr. Whiskers settled down. Punchline embraced the monster rabbit burying his face in his fur coat crying.

“Punchline, you can’t betray us.”

“Get lost, Rita!” Punchline snapped. “I don’t care about you and your stupid gang. Mr. Whiskers need me.”

“Have it your way,” she said before disappearing into a portal.

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So, it looks like the good evil clown is just plain evil. Now the Tamer has the scientific genius of Punchline the Clown and the incredible strength of his pet Mr. Whiskers at his command, can the Metadeliquents hope to stand up against this threat. Stay tune for the next nail-biting issue of Metadeliquents.

[CrossoverManiac]

This is a colored pic of Deathtone.

PS: *Please* critique my work. Someone out there please tell me if I'm doing it right or wrong.

[the_coldest_sun]

Your latest drawing is looking better than the previous ones. Maybe the coloring had something to do with that. I know Photoshop coloring my own drawings greatly improves the overall look, so I started to build more confidence. Then I realized I still can't draw faces. :( Anyways, not too bad so far. Keep on truckin'!

[CrossoverManiac]

Your latest drawing is looking better than the previous ones. Maybe the coloring had something to do with that. I know Photoshop coloring my own drawings greatly improves the overall look, so I started to build more confidence. Then I realized I still can't draw faces. :( Anyways, not too bad so far. Keep on truckin'!

Thanks. It was done in Paint, but I'm hoping to come up with a better paint program. I have to either learn to draw well enough to be just as good as professional artists or find someone to do the artwork for me (I want to publish Metadeliquents someday). BTW: how was the story?

[CrossoverManiac]

Here's a pic of Rita Williams/Gatekeeper, my main character. She's sort of in costume but without her hood and mask and her hair doesn't have white in it, but I left it there because I thought it good (sort of like Rogue and Song Bird).

[the_coldest_sun]

I like the Rita drawing. I haven't read any of the stories yet. I'm lazy that way.

[CrossoverManiac]

Metadeliquents: Issue 8
Betrayal: No wound cuts deeper than the one made by a friend
All characters are the intellectual property of Timothy Weaver, alias, Crossover Maniac.



The Gatekeeper leaned over a desk resting her head in her hands with her elbows on the table. On the other side of the polished oak table was the head of the Hillcrest Institute of Animal Behavior Bob North. In front of him was a sack of papers and a plaque with his name printed on it.

Bob North reclined back into his chair. “So, your that clown switched sides.”

The Gatekeeper nodded her head. “He sold us out for a rabbit.

“I guest it made sense,” North chuckled, “Circus animals, lion tamer, and clown: they all belong in a circus, together.”

Rita didn’t think his joke was funny. “He should have been one of ours.”

“So why are you here?”

“I dropped by Noah’s place, but he wasn’t there. His mail’s been stacking up so I don’t think he’s been there for awhile.” Rita gazed up at North. “You were real close to Noah. Everyone here says so. Maybe, you know.”

Bob North shook his hands. “No, no. Yeah I was closer to Noah than anyone else, but he keeps to himself. I barely know him.”

“Are you sure you don’t know anything?”

“No more than you do.” North laid his hands on the desk and folded his hands together. “So, he really did turn on you. This isn’t some superhero plot?”

The Gatekeeper snorted in disgust. “You know those cartoons when a good guy joins the bad guy and all the other good guys think he’s evil and then at the end of the show the traitor betrays the bad guys and tells everyone it was all a part of some plan to get the bad guy. Well, this isn’t one of them.”





A large moving truck was parked at the loading dock of a rusty old rundown two story steel warehouse. Just inside the large double doors was Mr. Whiskers who was collared and chained to the wall. He drooled over a feeding trough full of carrots, celery sticks, cauliflower, and lettuce. Mr. Whisker’s eyes have a glassy stare devoid of any life of its own for pinned on his left ear was The Tamer’s control device making Mr. Whiskers completely obedient to his master with no will of his own. On the other side of the building was The Tamer stooped over sulking. His once neatly trimmed ringmaster costume was in dishevel and halfway unbuttoned. Peeking through the doorway was Punchline the Clown. His make-up was partially washed away revealing his dark copper skin.

“Mr. Tamer sir,” Punchline said softly, “I gave you their real names and addresses. Me and Mr. Whiskers can go now, right?” The Tamer answered Punchline’s request by throwing a chair at him. Punchline ducked out of the way allowing the chair to pass by and smash itself against the basement wall. “Gee, it’s a shame you know the superheroes’ secret identities, ain’t it?”

“I’m not in the mood, clown.” The Tamer fumed. “The Metadeliquents humiliated me in front of the whole world.”

“Meta who?”

“Your little friends that’s who. It’s what that reporter Mary named you. That Rita girl must have told everyone about my whale callers. The reporter said the sea ports would all be cleared by tomorrow.”

“And now that you know who the Metadeliquents really are, you can put some poisonous snakes under their beds.”

“NO! They made a fool of me in front of the world. Their demise must be as public.” The Tamer pointed to a cage lined with newspaper with a fowl-smelling brown bat hanging upside down inside of it. “I need you to make sound amplifiers small enough to fit on those.”

“So you can make a white noise generator to counter Deathtone’s sonic scream?”

“Bingo. Can you do it?”

Sure, but you’re going to need more than one little brown bat to cancel Deathtone’s sonic blast.”

“That’s why you’re going to build me 300.”

“I can make’em in a week.”

“I want them in three days.”

“I can’t make that many in three days.”

“You know what lemmings are, don’t you? Scandinavian rodents compelled by instinct to drown themselves crossing the ocean. I can make rabbits do the same.”

“Please don’t,” Punchline said in a panicked voice. “I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t hurt Mr. Whiskers.”

“That’s better. What about the others?”

“Dawn needs energy absorbed by Dusk to use his laser power. Once he uses it up, he’s powerless.”

“Blocking out the sun? That can be arranged.”

“But that would free up Dusk’s dark energy power. He won’t have to worry about absorbing too much energy to use it.”

“I can overwhelm him with sheer number. What about Gatekeeper?”

“Leave her to me and Mr. Whiskers.”

“Good.” The Tamer pointed to some equipment on a table. “Load these into the truck while I get *my* rabbit.” Punchline winched at hearing The Tamer’s taunt.





Rita, Seth, Calvin, and Kevin were in a circle on the red carpeted floor. Posters of female pop stars and pictures of Calvin, Kevin, and their mother decorated the surrounding wall. Seth was munching on some burgers and fries he bought at a fast food restaurant.

“So, Punchline sold us out?” Calvin wasn’t too please to see Rita nod her head to his question.

“Maybe this is all some really cool plan to catch The Tamer,” said Kevin enthusiastically.

“You can be real stupid you know that,” Calvin moaned.

“You are right,” said Kevin mockingly, “Punchline has betrayed us.” Kevin nudged Rita with his elbow. “Right, Rita.”

“Kevin,” Rita sighed, “Punchline betrayed us for real.”

“No subbrise dere (No surprise there)” Seth mumbled with a mouth full of food. “Di dry to barn do (I tried to warn you).” Seth swallowed his food. “You didn’t believe me.” Seth took another bite of his hamburger and stuffed some fries into his mouth with it.

Rita slumped over. “I know. Look, I want you all to stay with your families. The Tamer may try to get them if he knows our secret identities.”

Seth spit out his food and nearly choked on what was left in his mouth. “You mean that Tamer guy knows who we are.”

“If I was The Tamer, that would be the first thing I’d make Punchline tell me.”

“And now thanks to you, The Tamer might get my mom and dad and little brother.”

“I don’t know for sure. Punchline might lie to him and give some made-up names. But just in case, pretend to be sick and keep an eye out on your families.”

“My mom ain’t stupid. The last time I tried that, she put me to work all day cleaning up the house.”

“Then clean your stupid house.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Calvin and Kevin’s mother walked into the room. “I can get some of the guys from the animal rights group to keep an eye on them, and I won’t have to tell them why either.” Edith handed Rita a cell phone. “I’ll tell them to call me if anything happens to your family, and I’ll can you.”

“You’ll do that for us?” asked Rita surprised by Edith’s offer for help.

“Anything to stop humans from enslaving animals,” said Edith before she snatched Seth’s hamburger. “And that includes enslaving animals for food.”

Seth jumped up trying to get back his hamburger from Edith. “That’s mine!”

No meat in my house.”

“But I’m still hungry.”

“I have some vegetarian casserole in the refrigerator.” Edith made her way out of the room. “I’m going to give this poor cow a proper burial.”

Calvin pointed to the twin bed to his right. “There a can of Vienna sausages under the bed.”

“You told Edith you threw them away,” Kevin squealed.

“Like you never ate meat.” Calvin tugged on Seth’s pants’ leg. “Don’t let Edith find out.” Seth opened up the can of Vienna sausages and began stuffing his face.

“Can you stop eating, Seth?” Rita fumed. “This is important.”

“I get hungry when I’m nervous.”

“If The Tamer does try something,” said Rita, “I want you all to wear your costumes under your clothes. I’ll teleport you out of class if he tries anything.”

“Won’t they find out we’re superheroes if you do that?” asked Calvin.

“It won’t matter if The Tamer knows who we are.”

“Thanks a lot Rita,” Seth sneered at Rita. “We’re in trouble now.”

“I think things will work out for the better.” Rita remembered the time when Mr. Impossible ‘helped’ Rita, and TJ to stay together after their dad died. “I think Mr. Impossible is helping us without us knowing about it.”

Calvin rolled his eyes. “Some stupid superhero that’s been gone since my mom was a kid is going to help us.”

“Yeah.” Rita turned her head and whispered, “I hope.”



Punchline woke up from his nap inside The Tamer’s truck. He held his hand against over his eyes blocking out the rays of the early morning dawn. There was no one else in the truck and they were no longer moving. Punchline got out and saw that a horde of bats flying around The Tamer who was holding out the tiny amplifiers Punchline made. He placed an amplifier on each one.

“It won’t be long now.” When he was finished, he pointed to a massive city with gigantic skyscrapers rising from its depths glistering with the rising sun behind it. “The Metadeliquents will die in the very city where they made me look like a fool.”

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[CrossoverManiac]

(continued from the last post)

“Do you have to go play tennis today?” Rita stood in front the door with arms extended. Facing her was TJ who was decked out in short pants and shirt with a racket in one hand and a pack of tennis balls in the other.

“Yes I do. I haven’t played tennis in months.”

“It’s not like you can't next week.”

“Actually, it is. Randy won’t have the weekends off for a while. Is something wrong?”

“No.”

“You called me every hour for the last three days.”

“It wasn’t every hour.”

“You almost got me fired from the auto parts store.”

“Your boss is a jerk.”

“That’s because some pesk kept calling his store asking for her big brother.” Rita showed her displeasure with her brother by pouting and turning her nose up at him. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

Rita’s little tantrum subsided revealing the loathing Rita was trying to hide. “I’m scared something going to happen to you, and I’ll never see you again.”

“Look Rita, nothing’s going to happen to me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“It’s not like you could stop it from happening anyway. So why worry?” The two siblings took a time out from their argument when the mood was broken by a ringing phone. TJ grabbed the cordless phone. “Hello?” He answered. His only reply was the dial tone. Rita ducked into kitchen clinking on Edith’s cell phone.

“Rita, The Tamer’s on the news. He’s attacking New York City. He sprung all of the animals out of the zoo and kennel, which would be great if he didn’t enslave them all over again. There are animal attacks all over New York; lots of people hurt or worse.”

“Tell Kevin and Calvin to get ready while I grab Seth.”

“Rita, where you’d run off to?” TJ cried out.

“I’ll see you in five minutes.” Rita clicked off the phone and stuffed it into her pockets. “I thought about what you said. And you’re right. Have a nice trip.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yup,” Rita nodded. She forced a smile for her big brother.

“I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t stray off too far until I come back.”

“I won’t.” Once the family pick-up truck sped off with TJ and tennis racket in toe, Rita peeled off her clothes revealing her Gatekeeper uniform underneath. “I hope New York Harbor is too far for me, TJ,” Rita said as she made a stop at Seth’s house.




“Could he at least until after 12 to take over the world?” A lengthy yawn bellowed its way out of Deathtone’s mouth exposing Seth Burrell’s groggy state along with his half-opened eyes. “I sleep in on Saturdays.”

“I’ll write Tamer a nasty letter for you,” The Gatekeeper said sarcastically. “Now pay attention.”

Dawn shot a light beam right beside the Gatekeeper and Deathtone. “Hey watch it, stupid!” Deathtone yelled.

“They’re here.” Dawn pointed to a horde of snarling dogs and hissing cats heading towards them. Deathtone and the Gatekeeper stepped aside and let Dawn shine an intense beam of light at the pack of animals. The animals stumbled around in a daze.

“You didn’t blind them, did you?” The Gatekeeper asked Dawn.

“Only for a little while,” Dawn reassured Rita. As Dawn was talking, it started getting darker. High above the city, a dark cloud blotted out the sun. The dark cloud hummed a strange, inhuman chant as if some dark force was forewarning the city’s inhabitants of the fulfillment of a dark prophecy. The cloud pulsated; taking in air and spewing hordes of flying insects that strayed a bit before finding their way back into the dark cloud.

“Punchline told him about our powers,” Gatekeeper said with dread in her voice.

“Big surprise,” Deathtone said snidely.

A trash bin slid out of an alley followed by a large shadow. The Gatekeeper pointed to the shadow. “Dawn, I need a light.”

“I don’t know if should use up all of my power.”

“We still got Deathtone and Dusk.” Dawn shined a light into the alley. Punchline and Mr. Whiskers’ profiles glistened in the spotlight. Deathtone screamed at Punchline and Mr. Whiskers sending a wave of destruction plowing through the asphalt street knocking chunks out of it, but, fortunately for the clown and mutant rabbit, Dawn and the Gatekeeper yanked his arm redirecting Deathtone’s scream at a rundown building demolishing it. Punchline and Mr. Whiskers darted out of the alley and into the deserted street.

“Punchline! Wait!” A string of portals opened and closed running along side Punchline and Mr. Whiskers as they made their way down the street. The Gatekeeper appeared and disappeared through the portals as Mr. Whiskers ran passed her.

“You two are idiots!” Deathtone fumed at Dawn.

“Why? Because you tried to kill Punchline?” Dusk said defending his brother.

“I wasn’t trying to kill him,” Deathtone said defensively. “He’s a supervillain and it wasn’t...you know...not kill him.” As they were arguing, a horde of bats flew over the three boys hanging from street lamps and power lines.

“Well, you might have. He doesn’t have powers,” Dawn corrected Deathtone.

“Guys, we got company.” Dusk pointed to the army of zoo animals pouring into the docks.

“No problem.” As Deathtone opened his mouth to let out another sonic scream, a strange humming noise surrounded them. Nothing happened when Deathtone screamed except silence. Deathtone tried again, and just as before, nothing happened.

Dawn pointed up. “Those bats have some weird thingies on them.”

“Punchline you @#$@#$%,” Deathtone cursed. Dusk’s shadow rushed out from under his feet grabbing at the bats that flew just out of reach and still emitting their own sonic attack.

Dawn grabbed Dusk’s shoulder. “Dusk, where’s Gatekeeper. She has to get us out of here.”

Dusk shoved Dawn away. “Shut up will ya.” Dusk’s shadow directed its attention towards the herd of wild beasts encircled the three children. A lion, six rhinos, and three bull elephants charged at the kid superheroes at once. The attacked was repealed by the shadow. It wrapped itself around the rampaging animals smashing them into the surrounding beast. Immediately, several wolves, snakes, and gorillas try to attack while the shadow was dealing with the last wave of attacks but they, too, were stopped in their tracks by the shadow.

“Come on Rita,” Dusk pleaded, “I can’t keep this up all day.”

A buzzard circled above Deathtone, Dawn, and Dusk. On its neck was a tiny video camera. The camera’s signal beamed images to a laptop. The laptop’s screen was the only source of light illuminating the face of the Tamer as he was watched from his hiding place somewhere within the Big Apple.

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[CrossoverManiac]

(continued on the last post)

Rita teleported right in front of Mr. Whiskers holding her arms out. “You’re not any further, backstabber.” Punchline tugged on Mr. Whiskers’ fur. The giant rabbit hopped up the walls of two surrounding buildings until they were on the roof. Rita teleported to the top of the building. Punchline steered his rabbit to walk next to a water tower on top of the building putting it between them and the Gatekeeper. “Was your stupid rabbit so important to you that you stab us in the back, Punchline?” Punchline remained silent as Rita walked closer and closer to him. As the Gatekeeper walked around the water tower, Mr. Whiskers backed away. “Say something @$%@#%$!”

Punchline’s only reply was to toss a large horseshoe magnet out of his trenchcoat at Rita. The magnet slammed into her chest pressing her against the cold metal surface of the water tower. The Gatekeeper tried teleporting away but she couldn’t go through the portal since she was pinned against the water tower.

Rita looked over her left shoulder to the sound of foot steps to her side. The Tamer strolled over to Rita looking her over. “Took you long enough,” said the Tamer to Punchline.

“Had to goat her into standing in the right spot,” said Punchline.

The Tamer stooped over Rita showing the images of her three teammates being overwhelmed by the army of animals on his laptop. “It’s almost like a dream,” said the Tamer intoxicated with power, “I knew I was powerful, but to dispense with you so easily. The world will fear and worship me after I’m done with you.” The villain nudged Rita’s shoulder. “What do you say about that?” Rita wouldn’t answer. He walked up to Punchline who was over almost two heads shorter than him and pointed to Rita saying, “Teach Gatekeeper to respect her new lord and master.”

The Gatekeeper lifted her head and looked into the eyes of her betrayer. She stared into Punchline’s black eyes; looking to see if there was any remorse or sorrow for stabbing her in the back. Punchline’s face was within an inch of Rita’s and said with his hot breath blowing into her mouth, “The Tamer’s is in control. You can’t beat him without your little team mates helping you. Suddenly, the Gatekeeper felt something in her hand. Punchline handed his joy buzzer off to her. “You know what you have to do, right?”

“Right,” said Rita before she slipped the joy buzzer on her hand, opened a portal next to the Tamer, and grabbed his laptop.” The monitor exploded in a flash of white light. The Tamer’s covered his eyes rubbing it before Punchline grabbed his whip and breaking the handle in half.

The control device on Mr. Whiskers’ ear fell off as the mutant rabbit stumbled into the water tower bending the beams on it before leaning on it for support. Punchline wasted no time attending to his pet seeing if he was okay. Mr. Whiskers took notice of his owner and started to lick his face like a mother cat cleaning her kittens leaving none of Punchline’s make up on his face. Punchline couldn’t help but to giggle as Mr. Whiskers’ tough ran across his face tickling him.

Suddenly, the same bear and panthers that the Tamer had with him before rush out of the freight elevator. The bear grabbed the Tamer by the coat dragging him away. The two panthers stood between them and the Gatekeeper and Punchline growling at them; their bodies coiled back ready to spring on the two superheroes if they attempted to pursue.

Punchline reached into his coat pocket and the magnet holding the Gatekeeper to the water tower fell powerless to the ground. Punchline walked towards the two panthers showing neither fear nor hesitation. The panthers leaped into the air with claws extended, but before they could get within reach, Punchline pulls out his clown hammer and nailing both of the big cats in midair. The panthers fell to the ground limp and unable to move.

“Punchline,” Rita cried out, “we have to go save the others.” Both Punchline and the Gatekeeper teleported to the spot where Deathtone, Dawn, and Dusk was only to find they were busy capturing the rogue animals. Dusk was grabbing animals with his shadow while Dawn and Deathtone were tying them up.

“Hey guys,” said Deathtone pointing to Punchline, “Gatekeeper got that traitor.”

“Hold on a sec,” said the Gatekeeper, “Punchline didn’t betray us.”

“What!” said Deathtone, Dawn, and Dusk at the same time.

“Punchline pretended to betray us so we could beat the Tamer.”

“You mean you lied?” Dusk scowled.

“I knew Punchline was pretending. I knew Punchline was pretending,” Dawn singed while jumping up and down much to his twin brother’s annoyance.

“I had to so we could fool the Tamer. Deathtone did a good job trying to blast Punchline.”

“You are such a phony,” Deathtone spat. “You shoulda told us.”

“If I did, you-would-talking-like-this-and-the-Tamer-wouldn’t-be-fooled,” the Gatekeeper mockingly stuttered.

Seth pointed to the Gatekeeper and said to the twins, “You see why I hate her. She’s a big lying phony.”

“Well too bad.”

“But what about the Tamer?” asked Kevin.

“We’ll go back to Hillcrest after we return all of the animals to the zoo and get the Tamer.”

“Like that Noah Pavlov guy’s going to show up again,” said Calvin.

“Just wait and see.”

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[CrossoverManiac]

(continued from the last post)

Four hours later at the Hillcrest Institute of Animal Behavior...

“Mr. North,” said a burly security officer, “those kids are back.” Bob North was walking besides the security officer as they made their way into the building from the parking lot. He was wrapped in a wrinkled white lab coat and his hair wasn’t brushed as if he was getting dressed in a hurry. The two were greeted by Rita and her bunch and two grown men in suits.

“Sorry I’m such a mess,” Mr. North apologized, “I came over as soon as I got the call from my secretary.”

“We’re here for the Tamer.”

“Noah’s not here, but my staff and I are at your disposal. If you need any help, just say so.”

Rita stepped up to North and grabbed the front of his lab coat. “Actually, you’d done enough.” Rita ripped North’s lap coat sending buttons flying all over the room. The security guards’ eyes were bulging out. Some of the scientists passing back stopped in their tracks looking on in shock. The men in suits pulled out their guns from their jackets while holding up their badges. For underneath Bob North’s lap coat was the uniform of the Tamer.

“How,” whispered North hoarsely.

“When Noah stood next to Punchline, they were about the same height. But when Punchline stood next the Tamer, he was tall like a grown up. Noah couldn’t be the Tamer. But then I remembered you. You brought Noah here. You buddied up to him. And you bugged me about whether or not Punchline betrayed us.” The two men in suits garnished a pair of handcuffs that they slapped on North’s wrists. “Now where’s Noah Pavlov.”

“Somewhere down the Hudson River.”

“How could you? You were his friend.”

“I was never that loser’s friend...”




Flashback

Noah leaned against the wall of a dimly lit living room. There was a troubled look in his face. Behind him was a doorway spilling precious light into the darkness. “Why Bob why? What did I do to deserve this? First I got robbed and now those weird kids said I did those awful things.”

“Relax Noah,” said a voice from the doorway. The light from the door was split in half by the large imposing shadow of Bob North. Bob stood right behind Noah. His left hand was behind his back. “Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

“I can’t go to jail. I won’t last a day.”

“You’re not going to jail. I’ll see to that myself.”

“You’re the only friend I have now, Bob.” Noah’s sorrow lightened and a little smile managed to find its way on his face. Noah turned to thank his ‘friend’ only see North with left hand raised up brandishing a butcher knife. Noah held out his hands and screamed before...

End of Flashback



“...with Noah gone, I could get the police to chase after him, and they would never bother me. It was a perfect plan if you didn’t get lucky.”

“Perfect?!?” Rita sneered. “More like pathetic. If little kids could see pass your stupid plan, then grown ups wouldn’t have been fooled.” North vigorously shook his head. “I mean, if you’re going to frame someone, make sure they’re at least the same height. You’re trying for “America’s Dumbest Criminals” or something?”

“I’LL KILL YOU! I’LL KILL YOU ALL.” North lunged at Rita but the two men in suits grabbed him by the arms.

“How, you couldn’t do it with you stupid animals. What makes you think you can to hurt me now?”

“Bob North, you’re under arrest,” one of the men said, “you have the right to remain...”

“I know my rights, moron,” North spat. The two men dragged North off.




The Gatekeeper and Punchline stepped out of the portal back to his camp ground. Punchline looked nervously away from the Gatekeeper. “Um, Rita,” Punchline said as his words awkwardly stumbled out of his month, “why did you lie for me? I really did betray you.”

The Gatekeeper peeled off her mask revealing the same cold unsympathetic eyes that Punchline gazed at her with. “I didn’t do it for you. I did it because you’re on the list, and you have to work for me.”

“So, you don’t really like me,” said Punchline disappointedly.

“Like you!” Rita yelled, “You stabbed us in the back. Why would I like you?”

“I’m sorry, Rita. Please believe me I am. But Mr. Whiskers...”

“That ugly monster!” Punchline’s feelings of sorrow were replaced by anger when Rita called his rabbit a monster. “What about your teammates?”

“Why I should I care about them? Mr. Whiskers is my only friend. You only cared about me making gadgets and doing science stuff for you.”

“And why should I care about you? You picked a rabbit over us. And don’t think about leaving either. Because if you do...”

“I won’t because I feel bad about what I did.”

“I thought so, and no more going on missions with the rest of us. I don’t want you betraying us...again.” Rita was about to leave before she remembered. “Oh, did you tell the Tamer who we really are?”

“No,” Punchline lied.

“Good.” Rita disappeared into her portal.

Punchline sat in front of a makeshift table made from a 55-gallon drum and plywood and slumped over burying his head into his arms. Mr. Whiskers walked over and nuzzled up against him.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Well, the Metadeliquents saved the days but there’s dissention in the ranks. Looks like Rita may need to brush up on her people skills, and she’ll be getting lessons from the most unlikely of sources. Rita gets to play tour guide to a foreign exchange student. So there won’t be any heart-pounding action scenes, but I’ll try to make it up with some pre-teen angst (or as close to it as I can get). And what about the Tamer? Will he reveal the Metadeliquents’ secret identities to the world? Tune in next week, same Meta-time, same Meta-channel (that is so cheesy; Adam West would be proud).

[CrossoverManiac]

I haven't gotten any reviews of this fic one way or another. If it's that bad, let me know then I can at least make corrections.

[CrossoverManiac]

Metadeliquents: Issue 9
Seth vs. the Red Harpy: Seth goes it alone
All characters belong to CrossoverManiac a.k.a. Timothy Weaver

Seth Burrell passed the ball between his beat-up leather glove and free hand while he was on the pitcher’s mound waiting for the final batter. His blue and yellow uniform with the word ‘Panthers’ engraved on the back of the shirt and on his baseball cap was covered in red dust. His face had smudges of dirt on his cheeks and forehead. He squinted at his final challenger, a tall high school student with tree trunks for arms and legs, no neck, and a sloping caveman brow. His eyes could scarcely contain the fires of determination and confidence hidden underneath. “Why you’d even bothered,” Seth whispered to himself, “no one on your team got the ball pass the plate when I’m pitching.” The larger boy, or young man, pointed to Seth and then to the bleachers letting Seth know he met his match. Seth smirked before tossing a curve ball just out of reach of the young man’s bat.

“Strike one,” the umpire called out.

Seth let another curve ball fly out. The young man’s bat almost, but not quite, made contact with the ball. The umpire’s proclamation of a second strike made the young man tense up. He grinded his teeth while squeezing on his bat so tightly Seth could hear it crack under the pressure. Seth let the final ball tear lose from his hand whizzing pass the plate before colliding with the young man’s bat. However, the ball kept going after cracking the bat into splinters on impact. No sooner than the umpire could call the young man out and the Panthers the victors, the spectators jumped the fences and overran the field. The mob hoisted Seth on their shoulders carrying him out of the stadium. Or they would have had not the umpire’s whistle pierce their eardrums.

“Seth Burrell is disqualified from the game,” called the umpire.

Seth slipped out of the crowd and matched in front the umpire. “I didn’t do nothing to get disqualified.”

“You don’t belong to the Panthers. You’re registered to another team.” The umpire gestured to his left. There, in the dugouts, the Gatekeeper and the rest of the Metadeliquents waited. “You’re on their team, son.”

“I’m not one of them, I’m a Panther.”

“Then how come you’re wearing their uniform.” Seth looked at his own uniform. He was now in his Deathtone costume. His baseball cap was replaced by his face mask.

“No, this is all wrong.” The Gatekeeper clapped an iron collar connected to a chain around Deathtone’s neck. The Gatekeeper yanked on the chain pulling Seth towards her.

“You belong to us, Deathtone. You hear me, Seth? Do you?”





“You hear me, son?” A large man with a protruding belly nudged his son on the shoulder trying to get his attention.

“Yeah, dad, I hear ya.” Seth gazed at his father with a lazy eye.

“Are you going to eat that hotdog?”

His wife, a woman with shoulder-length brown hair and green eyes wearing a Panthers’ T-shirt and short blue jeans, kicked her husband on his shin. “Stop taking food out of your own son’s mouth.”

“It’s okay. He can have it,” Seth said scarcely acknowledged the chili and mustered-soaked hotdog he was holding. Seth’s dad thanked his son and jammed the chili dog into his mouth.

Seth’s mom pouted. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Seth’s dad shrugged his shoulders. “Why? Seth didn’t want it.” Just then, the Panthers youth team took the outfield while the opposing team, the Hacksaws, went to bat. “Hey, you’re little brother Jake’s pitching.” Jake was on the pitcher’s mound picking his nose. The Panthers’ little league coach yelled to Jake to get his finger out of his nose and pitch. Jake tossed the ball underhanded to the batter who missed and sprung around and coming within an inch of knocking the umpire’s face mask. Jake tossed another ball underhanded but this time the batter hit the ball. The batter made a quick dash...to third base. Jake didn’t fare much better. The ball stopped next to the pitcher’s mound, and Jake didn’t so much as look at the ball let alone made any attempt to throw the ball to first despite pleads from the Panthers’ coach. The Hacksaws’ coach ran unto the field and pointed to home and then to first base to the young batter who started running to home base. The Panthers’ coach also made a trek onto the field pointing the ball and first base to Jake. Jake picked up the ball and threw it halfway to first base. The batter would have been out had it not been for the catcher at first base also standing idly by.





“Mommy, Daddy, Sef, did you see me play?” Jake jumped into his father’s arms.

“You did great for your first game,” said Jake’s father. Jake’s mom patted him on the head.

“You looked stupid,” Seth spat.

Jake stuck his tongue at Seth. “Mommy, Sef’s being a poop head.”

“Be nice to your brother, will ya,” said Seth’s father.

Seth folded his arms together. “Alright, you did good, Jake.”

“Hey, Seth, you’re class’s up is next.”

“Um, dad, can we go home?”

“No way, Jose, me and Jake wants to watch the rest of the games.”

“Mom!”

“Honey,” said Seth’s mom, “why don’t you want to see your classmates play?”

“Because they kicked Sef out for being a poop head,” Jake cried out.

“You call me a poop head one more time, I’ll kick you’re a...OUCH!” Seth gripped the back of his head where his mother smacked him.

“Cut it out both of you,” yelled Seth’s dad, “or I’ll be kicking butt, yours.”

Seth and Jake settled down to watch the next game. Halfway through the first inning, Seth wasn’t too enthused seeing his classmates playing baseball. He should have been playing too. He was a really good player too. But that stupid Rita and her stupid superhero crap ruined everything for him. “Mom, can I catch the bus home?”

Seth’s mom signed. “Okay! Okay! Go back home. Sheesh.” Seth’s mom grabbed him on the shoulder. “Go straight home. You don’t, you’re going to be in a world of hurt if you don’t.” Seth nodded his head before heading off to the bus stop.





The weekends, so far, was a let down for Seth. First he was dragged out to a baseball game he didn’t want to go and now having to ride back home on a smelly bus with stuck-up commuters for the next hour. The bus stopped at the corner of an intersection. Another group of passengers filed through the door and took their place at an available seat. Seth felt himself being pressed against the window. A rather large woman, without so much as a word, bumped him out of her way. “Hey watch it!”

The woman wagged her finger at Seth. “Don’t back talk me. I’m not your mother.” The woman’s gaze revealed her disapproval of the young boy.

Seth wanted to use his powers on her, but then he’d never heard the end of it from Rita. He let the fat woman’s abuse slide. Seth continued looking out the window since he had little room to turn his head and look at anything else; that and the fact that the woman wouldn’t let him breath on her.

“You know,” said the fat woman, “when I was your age, children were seen and not heard. It’s a shame time’s change.”

“Yeah, whatever happened to the good old days when you were a kid and fire wasn’t invented yet,” thought Seth.

“There was a time children worked all day at your age...” The woman droned on about ‘the good old days’ and how today’s children were all selfish irresponsible brats until the driver clicked on the intercom.

“There is a curfew in effect from 6 pm to 6 am, and the municipal district is now a restricted area.”

“What for,” a man asked in the seat in front of Seth and the rude woman.

“A supervillain’s been sighted heading there fast, really fast. I think they called her the harpy.”

“Red Harpy.” The man looked back at Seth. “She can fly as fast as a jet fighter.” Seth remembered her from the news and that from Rita’s stupid meetings.

The rude woman put her finger on her lips. “Shush! Don’t interrupt when grown people are talking. You’re lucky you’re not my child.”

“And I heard she’ll be here in like the next fifteen minute,” worried the bus driver.

Seth knew there was no time to waste. He tried getting up before the rude woman got up blocking his way. “And where do you think you’re going?”

“I got to get off, right now.”

“Say please, may I get off, ma’am.” The rude woman folded her arms and pouting her lips while staring down Seth.

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[CrossoverManiac]

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“Ggggggeeeeeetttttttttt oooooouuuuuuuuutttttttttttt ooooooffffffffff mmmmmmmmmmmmyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy wwwwwwwwwwwwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.” The rude woman stepped to the side. Seth was about to squeeze through when he decided the woman needed to be taught a lesson. “Pppppppppppppppeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee oooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn yyyyyyyyyyoooooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrrr rrrrrrssssssssssseeeeeelllllllllfffffff. Tttttttttttaaaaaaaaaaaaakkkkkkkkkkkeeeeeeeeeee aaaaaaaaa ccccccrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaapppppppppp iiiiiiinnnnnnnn yyyyyyyyoooooouuuuuurrrrrrrr ppppppppppaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnnnttttttttttiiii iiieeeeeeeeeessssssssssssss.” Warm yellow urine poured on the isle as the stench of feces seeped through the rows of the bus. The commotion caused by the passengers yelling at the grown woman who went in her clothes and coughing from the stench was too much for the rude woman who was covering her face from the embarrassment and crying that the little brat made her do it. The bus driver pulled over to get the commuters to settle down. When he did, Seth slipped passed the driver and got off the bus. He wasted no time heading for the nearest phone booth. Seth balled his fist and shook it. “I know what I must do.” He charged down the sidewalk not slowing down; a spirit of determination and passion possessed his body sending it charging in the nearest phone booth. Seth put two quarters into the pay phone and called Rita’s house.

“Hello,” said Rita.

“Hey, this is Seth. The Red Harpy’s in town. My mom said I had to go straight home. So could you leave me out this time?”

“No.”

“But my mom said I have to go home.”

“And I have to go to buy new school clothes with my brother. I can’t run off without TJ noticing me gone. You have to go without me.”

“You got to be kidding me.”

“It’s not my fault. Blame TJ.”

“What about the rest?”

“Calvin and Kevin are gone to Oregon to save a striped owl or something for their crazy mom. So I can’t get them.”

“What about Punchline?”

“NO!” Rita screamed. “Punchline can’t do missions anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so!” Rita hung up the phone.

“Dang it, Rita sounds like my dad.” Just as Seth hung up the phone, the booth rattled. “That was a sonic boom.” Seth peered into the sky and saw a speck flying towards the industrial district. “Red Harpy.” Seth ducked behind a dumpster and changed into his Deathtone costume and ran wide open towards the speck. But he couldn’t keep up and was running out of breath. Exhausted and frustrated, Seth slumped against a tree. “This is stupid,” he panted. “Rita ain’t helping me. So why should I fight the Red Harpy by myself.”





Punchline stood behind a podium looking over his lecture notes and adjusted the podium microphone in front of a crowd consisting of the stereotypical nerd: thick glasses, bow ties, and lab coats. Noticing his noose was leaning to the left, Punchline gently placed his notes on the podium and straightened the morbid neck tie. He picked up the stack of papers and then tossed them over his shoulders. The papers scattered all over the auditorium. “Hi everybody!”

The crowd greeted him in kind. “Hi Professor Punchline.”

“Today we’re doing something really cool. Mr. Whiskers, will you please.” Mr. Whiskers pushed a table into auditorium. A chain wrapped around the table biding Seth to the table.

“Punchline, this isn’t funny!” Seth mumbled through the muzzle on his face. He struggled against the chains but couldn’t pull himself a loose.

“The specimen doesn’t think this is funny. What’s your conclusion?” The crowd pointed and laughed at Seth.

“Punchline let me go.”

“The specimen is a mutant freak that blows stuff up with his mouth. Ain’t that right, Seth?”

“Punchline!”

“But I told my class we were dissecting today.”

“Dissection!”

“And guess who’s dissecting you?”

Rita was on the side of the table holding a chainsaw. “I warned you not to leave the team, Deathtone. But you wouldn’t listen.” Seth could feel the hum of the chainsaw as Rita cranked up the chainsaw and waved its hundreds of teeth over Seth’s chest.





Once Seth caught his breath, he put his daydreams on hold and started running again. But unlike earlier, Seth could barely make out the speck. “I’ll never make it on foot.” Seth ran some more until he came to a gas station. At one of the pumps, an unshaved man in racing clothes was gassing up his motorcycle. “Hey mister,” said Deathtone, “how fast can your bike go?”

The motorcyclist didn’t divert his attention from filling his gas tank. “This model supposed to be able to hit 210, but mine’s a custom job. I can get 250 easy.”

“Cool. Wanna go for a ride?”





The motorcade consisting of four police cars (two in front and two in back), a black limonene, and two police motorcycle strut through the city wailing their sirens. Judge Wanda Sims stolidly glanced at her escorts.

“So you sentence the Red Harpy to death row?” Officer Hannity sat to her left. The coat he usually wore was folded neatly and placed on the backboard. His gun and hoister which was normally concealed under the coat was now exposed.

“I don’t like the idea of it myself, but for what Carol Bonner did, I didn’t have a choice.” Her wrinkled ebony hand stroke her forearm nervously. She wore a brown skirt and coat and blue blouse.

“You’re okay your Honor?”

“I’m fine, Officer. I survived worse in forty years than a psycho in a bird suit.”

“It’s okay to be scared. Heaven knows I am.”

Judge Sims just turned her nose to Hannity. “Well that’s you, not me.” She was terrified and knew she had good reason to be, but she had too much pride to let anyone know that.

Hannity stuck his hand up to the judge. “Do you hear that?” At first, it could barely be heard over the limo’s engine, but the sound grew in intensity rapidly. Hannity yanked Judge Sims slamming her head in the seat and ducking along side her. Suddenly, in an instant, bright white sparks dispersed themselves all over the interior of the limo and then the roof flew off. Two seconds later, Judge Sims was plucked out of the limo. Hannity looked out of the new sunroof to see the Red Harpy towing Judge Sims behind her before they faded into two dots in the sky.



“Yyyyyyyyyooooooooouuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrr gggggggggggggggooooooooooooooooiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiinnnnnnnnnnnnnnngggggggggggggggggg tttttttttttttttttttttttttoooooooooooooooooooo sssssssssssssssssssllllllllllllllllllllllllloooooo oooooooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ssssssssssssssssssssppppppppppppppppeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeddddddddd ddddddddddddd uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuppppppppppppppppppp!!!!” Deathtone gripped the motorcyclist’s chest with an iron grip. Deathtone’s mouth was almost touching the motorcyclist’s ear in order for Seth’s voice to be heard over the growling engine. The custom made motorcycle weaved a red blur through the spaces between cars that appeared to be standing still.”

Seth scanned the sky for signs of the Red Harpy. She was heading in this direction, but now she was no longer in the city’s skyline. Of course, what could anyone expect: a motorcycle could only 250 mph while the Red Harpy was twice as fast as the speed of sound which was over 1400 mph. No way could he hope to catch her. This wouldn’t be a problem if that lousy Rita was here to teleport him around obstacles like the 18-wheeler that crossing the intersection. Eighteen-wheeler crossing the intersection! Just as the motorcycle was about to run another red light, an 18-wheel tractor trailer crosses the intersection about the same time Seth was. Startled, Seth grasped the motorcyclist’s chest and squeeze even harder. The motorcycle was only a few feet from colliding headlong into the trailer before a sonic blast hammered into the side of the trailer. The metal walls caved in and the frame bend and twisted sending the trailer flipping off the ground. The motorcycle sped through the space between the pieces of the carved-up trailer. Seth could barely catch his breath that was taken from him by his near-death experience. As he was panting for air, the driver started slowing down forcing Deathtone to resume his mind control voice.


A pair of red metallic claws gripped Judge Sims’ shoulders as it dangled from a bungee cord. Judge Sims ceased struggling against its iron grasp. Her face became stern; she didn’t blink once in her starring contest. “Carol,” the judge said with a tone that only an experience leader could muster up, “you have only yourself to blame for the mess you’re in. Killing me won’t make it any different.”

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[CrossoverManiac]

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“Oh please,” chuckled the Red Harpy, “don’t flatter yourself grandma. You’re just bait on a hook.” The judge swung like a pendulum to the side circling around.





“Ttttttttttttuuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrrrnnnnnnnnnn n rrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiigggggggggggggggghhhhhhhh hhhhhhhhttttttttttttttttttttttttttt hhhhhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrreeeee eeeeeeeeeeeee!!!! Tttttttttttttttttttuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrrr rnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiggggggggggggghhhhhhhh hhhhtttttttttttttttttttt hhhhhhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeee eeeeeeeeee!!!” The motorcyclist veered in the direction Deathtone pointed. Overhead, the two specks in the sky were now two women flying towards the city. Deathtone sized up the distance between him and the Red Harpy and let loose a sonic attack. The Red Harpy rattled in mid-air shaking the judge. Deathtone fired another low-powered sonic attack at the Red Harpy and shaking her up even more.

“Hey fish bait,” the Red Harpy mocked the judge, “looks like I got a bite.” The judge responded with a nasty and mean-looking scowl. The high flying villain doubled-back heading and flew to the outskirts of the city to a large grocery store and landed on the roof with Judge Sims on the ground still tethered to the cord and metal claws.

In seconds, the motorcycle slid into the parking lot directly in front of the Red Harpy. Seth launched himself backwards out of the seat. When Seth was first introduced to the Red Harpy, he found it difficult to keep a straight face. But in real life, her costume was the visage of a mythical beast that was part bird of prey, part snake, and part ram. A hawk with wings extended and talons spread open embroiled the chest plate as a yellow outline against the light red background of overlapping sheets of armor. Segments of dark red diamond-shaped plates composed the back side of her suit. Although she had bat-like wings, the Red Harpy’s armor resembled the scales on a red serpent. However, the helmet with the curled horns covering all but her mouth favored a ram.

“Took you Metadeliquents long enough.”

“Meta-what?” said Seth.

“Metadeliquents. @#$%, you kids are stupid. That’s what they call you on the news.”

“I don’t watch the news.”

“Nevermind. Where’s the rest of the Metadeliquents?”

“They couldn’t come.”

“WHAT THE @#$%@ DO YOU MEAN THEY COULDN’T COME!” The Red Harpy’s jet engine growled along with her outburst.

Seth was feeling a little nervous. She’s actually pissed that the good guys didn’t show up to stop her. “Um...they were busy.”

“Oh busy, huh? Well, then, let’s see how busy they are when I cut off yours and and granny’s heads. Your little friends’ll know I mean busy, then. And when I take them out, my rep’ll put even the Tamer and Diamond Joe to shame.”

So, that’s why the Red Harpy waited for me, thought Deathtone. She didn’t care about the judge. She just wanted me, Rita, and the rest of the team. Well, she ain’t getting us. A sonic blast was unleashed from Deathtone’s mouth heading toward the Red Harpy who, within a fraction of a second, rocketed out of its path and back into the air. The blast did cave in the back entrance to the store. Judge Sims was nearly buried underneath the debris.

“Hey watch it, stupid!” The judge snapped.

“Sorry.” Deathtone wailed at the Red Harpy again. He managed to hit her, but instead of knocking her out of the sky, all she did dance around the blows and gain altitude. Deathtone tried again and again but with the same results as before.

The Red Harpy flew in closer to the ground and switched on the loudspeaker on her neck. “Whoa, thanks for the thrill ride, kid. It’s like the old days riding hot air currents on a hang glider. That’s your superpower; blowing hot air, right?” The human chimera laughed. “I’d love to stay and chat but then again you’d be late for your own funeral.” The Red Harpy fired her jet engines and made a loop speeding towards Deathtone. The young superhero managed to duck out of the way only to be lifted off the ground by a gust of wind following in the Red Harpy’s wake and landing on his back coated with dust stirred up by the same wind. The Red Harpy made more passes each time Deathtone was being tossed around by the after suction affect. And each time, the Red Harpy inched closer to the ground.

“Don’t just lay there,” Judge Sims cried. “Do something.” Deathtone launched another sonic blast catching the Red Harpy off guard.

Deathtone pointed to the parking lot and yelled to the judge, “Run to the motorcycle!”

“What motorcycle?” The motorcycle was gone. The driver took off once he was no longer under Seth’s mind control.

“This isn’t my day.”

Suddenly, Judge Sims snatched Deathtone by the hand and led them though the parking lot to a hardware store in the same shopping center. The cashier, who was stacking boxes on the shelves, was alerted to Deathtone and Judge Sims’ presence by the door-chime. She ceased stocking the merchandise and welcomed the two new potential customers. “Welcome to Tool-co. May I help you?”

Deathtone’s mouth twisted into a sour scald. He recognized the woman as the one who was so rude to him on the bus.

“You’re one of those horrible Metadeliquents,” the woman gasped. “You need to get out right now.”

The judge stepped between Deathtone and the cashier. “Hold on a sec. He saved my life.”

“Hmp! Asking those brats for help? I’d never stoop so long.” Just then, the wall on the opposite end of the store was sliced just below the attic by a thin metal blade. Then the wall next to it was cut in half as well. Sliced up tools was tossed around the store. Then the same happened to the remaining two walls. The cashier then grabbed Deathtone by the collar and cried, “Please don’t let me die!” Deathtone tried pushing the hysterical cashier away but her grip was that of a steel trap. It took the top half of the store being dragged off to get Deathtone free. All three of them fell to the floor and covering their head from the falling grey concrete pieces and pink fiberglass insulation as well as the hammers, power tools, nails, and other tools in the store until they were all covered in a fine power of concrete and chunks of insulation. The same metal talons that snatched Judge Sims out from under the noise of her police escort were towing the roof off the house. The tether that the talons hung from retracted back into the Red Harpy’s suit who was circling for another attack.

Seth plunged behind an isle full of hammers and other metal tools. “Let’s see you dance your way though this.” Seth screamed out another sonic blast launching the tools in a shotgun pattern at the flying villain. The tools clanged when they hit her armored body. One item, an electric generator, knocked her in the head and spun her helmet around. She adjusted her helmet and was about to dive-bomb the store when she couldn’t spot either Deathtone or the judge. The Red Harpy landed next to the cashier who was hiding under the counter shivering. The Red Harpy shoved the cashier out of her hiding spot with her foot and yanked her up by her blouse.

“Where’d they go,” demanded the Red Harpy.

The cashier pointed to the back of the store. “In the woods.”

The Red Harpy shoved the cashier and rocketed back to the sky. She managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of Deathtone as he disappeared into the brush.




“Why’d you stop?” Judge Sims gestured with her hand to continue fleeing. “What you’d think you’re doing? Waiting on her?”

“I am.” Seth smirked at Sims. “She can’t use all her fancy moves in here.” The Red Harpy flew just above the trees. “You see? She can’t do anything to us now.” Suddenly, the top of one of the trees came crashing down almost nailing Seth in the head. Its fall snapped off branches from the other trees sending them to the ground. The judge and young superhero’s clothes were covered in bark and leaves. Then, other trees had their tops sliced off forcing the two to travel deeper into the woods.

“She’s trying to bring the trees down on our heads,” said the judge as she led Seth away by the hand. “If we can lose her in the woods and follow the interstate, I know somewhere safe were we can hide until...”

Seth braced his legs to stop the judge from taking him any further and wiggled his arm out of Sims’ grip. “Hey, I’m the one rescuing you; not the other way around.”

“Look, she’s bringing the woods down on our heads. You can’t say here and fight. At least we won’t have to worry about falling lumber where we’re going.” Sims continued back on the path but halted when she noticed Seth was still pouting. “Oh get over it.”

“All right already,” said Seth.





Three hours later

“I didn’t think we’d ever lose her.” Seth was covered with leaves and vines and twigs that he picked up going through the densely vegetated forest.

“You’re not kidding me. Whose idea was it to dress you kids like road flares?”

“What?”

“If you superkids used your brains, maybe you’d wear camouflaged. But y’all have to look cool beating up the bad guys.”

“It’s not my fault. Gatekeeper made me wear it.”

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“Sure she did,” the judge said sarcastically. She took a cell phone out of her coat pocket and dialed 9-1-1. “Hello, this is Judge Sims. Tell the police we’re heading for the chemical plant just off the Interstate in half an hour.” Just then, Deathtone ripped the phone out of the judge’s hand. “Hey, you know better than snatching. You’re too big to be in kindergarten.” Deathtone ignored the bothersome old woman and dialed Rita’s house. The judge tried to get the phone back but Deathtone got just out of arm’s reach.

“I know how to get us out of here. Just let me borrow the phone.”

“Fine, but shouldn’t you be fighting the Red Harpy? You’re the superhero aren’t you?”

The phone clicked on. “This is TJ Williams. No one’s at home right now.”

“This ain’t fair!” Seth roared. “Why’d I have to fight the bird woman? Gatekeeper doesn’t have to. Punchline doesn’t have to. Dawn and Dusk don’t have to. But I do.”

“You poor baby,” said the judge sarcastically.

“And you? I’m the superhero, not you. You’re just being bossy.”

“That’s because you can’t think. For instance, cell phones record the number you dial. Now I have your little friends’ number.” Deathtone tossed the phone on the ground and destroyed it with a sonic blast, which also kicked up a lot of rotten leaves and dirt.

The judge smacked Seth on the back of the head. “You do know you can erase numbers off a cell phone.”

“Sorry.”

“’Sorry’ don’t get me a new phone. Besides, I’d thought you’d want to save the day by yourself.”

“And why’s that.”

“Because you’d get all of the glory; think about it, saving a fellow defender of justice from an evil supervillain. You’d have your name on the news and maybe some medal or something. That’ll show them, won’t it?”





Seth was daydreaming again. He was in his Deathtone uniform except no mask and a rather large gold medal pinned to his shirt. On his left shoulder, a blonde girl in a pink suit cut off at the naval and on his right, Naomi Styler. Both of them leaned their head on Seth’s shoulder while Seth wrapped his arms around them.

“This is Mary Nodell”, the young reporter introduced herself, “reporting live from a parade given to honor a brave, charming, and very handsome young man by the name of Seth Burrell, who rescued Judge Sims from the clutches of the vile and wicked Red Harpy.” The camera panned out and now caravan of floats with pictures of Seth’s face on them and one float with a giant balloon figure of Seth tied to it. The camera’s sight returned to Nodell. “So, Seth, who are these lovely young ladies?”

“I’m Naomi Styler. Before I knew about the real Seth Burrell, I thought he was a loser, but now, I think he’s the coolest and I’m Sethy-poo’s new girlfriend.”

“I’m Seth’s girlfriend!” screamed the blonde-haired girl.

Seth stepped between the girls. “Naomi, Nancy, you don’t have to fight. You both can be my girlfriends.” The two nuzzled Seth’s shoulders. “I can always use one more Mary.”

Nodell begin to blush at Seth’s offer. “And what about your other teammates? Do they get to be your parade even though they left you all alone to fight off the vile and wicket Red Harpy?”

“I’m not mad at them.”

“How kind of you.”

“And how cute you are?”

Nodell blushed some more. “You think I’m cute.” Nodell brushed back her strawberry blonde hair showing off her face.

“Of course. And I wouldn’t leave them out. I’m too nice to do that.”

At the very end of the parade, Gatekeeper, Punchline, Dusk, and Dawn trailed behind Mr. Whiskers who had a blue banner which read, “HOORAY FOR SETH”.

“Hey, Rita,” said Dusk, “why are we in this parade?” Just as Dusk was finished talking, a fart noise was made right in front of them. All of them grabbed their noses.

“We have to clean up behind Mr. Whiskers.” Punchline, Dawn, and Dusk pulled shovels behind their backs.

“Yuck!” said Dawn. “It’s bigger than the one from Jurassic Park.”

“Where’s mine?” asked Rita.

“You didn’t bring your own,” said Punchline. “Looks like you have to you use your hands.” Rita cringed at the thought of doing something so disgusting.

In the front of parade, Seth laughed while Mary, Naomi, and Nancy were hugging him.





“Earth to superkid. Earth to superkid.” Judge Sims rattled Deathtone back and forth trying to get his attention.

“Yeah,” said Seth.

“Are we going to the chemical plant or not?”

“Damn straight we are!” This time, it was Seth dragging the judge along by the arm.





“Where are you hiding?” The Red Harpy was perched on an oak tree talking to herself. “Lost them a mile back.” While trying to decide to continue following the interstate or look for them deeper into the woods, the Red Harpy was distracted by ten police cars, sirens blaring, heading down the interstate. “When in doubt...” The Red Harpy swooped down from the tree and tagged behind the police convoy.





“Whoa!” Deathtone took in the vast complex, which was large enough to fit two football fields in it. The perimeter of the plant was surrounded by a ten-foot tall chain link fence with barbed wire stringing the top with loops divided by a guard station and a crossing guard. The plant was populated by various buildings and equipment. An eight-story office building stood in the far right. Its surface was covered in dark-tented glass. The one next to it was a four story parking garage that was rather empty with cars occupying only the first floor. Three more buildings were on the far left of the facility. One of the buildings was low, only two stories, but it covered a fourth of the plant and on its right shoulder, various spherical and cylindrical tanks for industrial chemicals. Ten of the tanks, red and yellow with rust, were each the size of Seth’s house. A maze of grey pipes crisscrossed between each tank and leading to the next building. It was three stories tall with a giant air vents coming out of the top and an air conditioner, seven feet high, seven feet wide, and seven feet long, was on the side of the building. The final building was a five story dome-shaped building. Its hanger doors were wide enough for a two-lane road to run through it. “So, we just wait for help to get here, right?”

The judged nodded. “This place is built like a fortress. All we have to do is to wait for help to come.” Sims pointed to the right. “It doesn’t look like anyone is over there.” She twisted her wrist and pointed to the left. “We can hide out over there.” The judge and superhero walked to the large two-story building.”

“Thought I forgot about you, didn’t ya.” Judge Sims didn’t know about Deathtone, but her heart skipped a beat. The Red Harpy sat on the roof of the very building they were heading for. “I admit, you gave me the slip back there. I almost gave up, but then you had to call the cavalry. I followed the cop cars here and clipped their tires just after they got off the interstate.” The Red Harpy knocked on her wings with her knuckles. “By the time they get here, you’ll both be in that big courthouse in the sky.” The Red Harpy slid off the roof and fired up her engines propelling her into air. She made a loop and went after Deathtone before he hit the ground. She made another pass this time hitting Deathtone by tilting her wings at an angle and nailing him while he was still on the ground. Deathtone tumbled across the ground. “You’re turn’s next, granny.” Then, the Red Harpy was hit by a sonic blast knocking her left wing into the walls of two-story building embedding her wings into it.

“That hurt!” Deathtone held his left side with his right hand.

The Red Harpy fired up her engines and pushed herself off the wall and hovered above Deathtone. “Tough skin, huh.” Her wings became paper-thin and widened to twice its area. “This is how I can my wings can cut though anything, just like a razor blade. I bet you won’t survive this time.” While running to the dome building, Deathtone fired short bursts of his sonic blast at the Red Harpy who was dodging each one. “That’s right,” the Red Harpy shrieked, “run into the one building with enough room for me to fly.” The Red Harpy’s wings returned to their normal shape and barely fit though the doors. The dome building, apart from for rows of shelves on the side, was empty making it spacious enough for flight as the supervillain predicted. When she flew into the building, she couldn’t see Deathtone. She stopped and hovered in mid-air. He’s hiding in here somewhere, she thought, and glided around the aisles looking them over for Deathtone.

“Hey, bird woman!” Deathtone ducked from side of the door and ran out outside. “Let’s see you dodge this.” Deathtone screamed at the very ceiling.

“I’m right over here, stupid,” mocked the Red Harpy. “I don’t know why I even bother...” Suddenly, the Red Harpy was knocked back into the shelves knocking one over with caused the others to crash into the ground like dominos. “What the @#$@#!” Then, she heard it: Deathtone’s voice echoing throughout the entire building. The entire building was like a makeshift bell. Deathtone’s sonic blast bounced back and forth off

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[CrossoverManiac]

(continued from the last post)

the walls, floor, and ceiling. The Red Harpy made a vain attempt to flee the deathtrap she found herself doped into, but she was being knocked to the sides by a dozen sonic blasts echoing at random across the building leaving her dazed and unable to fly out. Slabs of concrete rained off the ceiling with a few managing to smash into the Red Harpy’s wings denting them. Then one echo hit her jet engine bending the nozzle. She flew around the room uncontrollably until she crashed into the wall cracking a hole into it and falling to the ground.

“Had enough, bird woman,” Seth smirk with the proverbial ‘cat that just swallowed the canary’ look. “You wanted to fight us all, and you couldn’t take me one-on-one. I’m too much for you bird woman.” Then, right behind Seth, there was the noise of footsteps and heavy breathing. The police officers that the Red Harpy ambushed finally made it on foot to the chemical plant.

“We finally caught you,” said one of the officers still gasping for air.

“I caught her, not you.” The officers drew their pistols and pointed them at Seth.

“You are under arrest. Put your hands in the air and keep your mouth shut or else we’ll open fire.”

“We’re really going to shoot a kid?” One of the officers protested.

“Shut your trap, patrolman, and do what you’re told.”

Suddenly, a giant hole was knocked into the wall. Mr. Whispers grabbed Seth by his shirt with his mouth and hopped out of the chemical plant.




“Punchline?” Seth peered up at Punchline riding on top of Mr. Whiskers. “Did Rita send you?” Mr. Whiskers stopped and put Seth on the ground.

Punchline shook his head. “I listened to everything on my police scanner,” said Punchline, “and they said you were by yourself. They also called you names like ‘assailant’ and ‘suspect’. Their moms need to put hot sauce on their tongues for talking dirty.”

“Took you long enough.”

“That’s because I told Punchline he couldn’t come on missions anymore.” Rita was in her regular clothes, so her seething and angry expression was no longer hidden to the two boys. She opened two portals: one to Seth’s room and the other to Punchline’s camp. “You two go home, you caused enough trouble today.”

“Caused trouble?” Seth stomped his foot. “I save a judge from that bird woman.”

Rita walked into Seth’s room and turned on his TV and punched ‘play’ on his VCR. Mary Nodell was on television standing in front of the dome building Seth trapped the Red Harpy in. “Not only did the suspect destroyed a truck carrying medicine to a local hospital, but the destruction of one our local plants has cost a thousand people their jobs. For the good of the world, these Metadeliquents must be stopped.” The camera turned to Judge Sims and a plump balding man with a thick mustache. “Judge Sims, do you have any comments on what sort of jail time the suspect could be facing.”

Judge Sims yanked Nodell by the arm and talked into the mike. “That kid’s a hero. He saved my...”

The bald man shoved Sims to the side. “I assure you, he will be brought to justice and we won’t show any mercy on him even if he eight-years old.”

“I’m eleven and a half,” Seth whined.

“Who cares? You wrecked the whole city.”

“That’s your fault. I didn’t have any help. If I did, then...then...”

“Property damage would be kept to a minimum,” said Punchline, who promptly shut up when Rita gave him a nasty look. Punchline and Mr. Whiskers climbed into the portal.

“What Punchline said: less stuff broken.”

“You’re right, Seth.” Rita sighed. “I left you all alone. And you did your best.”

“Darn right, I did.”

Rita took off Seth’s mask and gently ran her finger over a bruise on Seth’s temple. “Look where she hurt you.” Rita pulled Seth’s head down and kissed his bruise. “That should make it better.”

“Um...Rita?”

“There’s a boo-boo on your lip.” Seth was about to say something, but Rita put her finger on his lips. “Don’t say a word.” Rita leaned into Seth, closed her eyes, puckered her lips, and...

“Seth!” Seth snapped out of his daydream and back to the reality of Rita Williams jumping down his throat. “You said my name. Whadda want?”

“Nothing Rita. Nothing.” Seth walked though the portal to his room. “Things couldn’t get worse.”




Riker’s Island

A row of pay phones ran across the wall. A prison guard stood in front of the only exit from the room waiting for the prisoners to make the one phone call every prisoner is entitled to. On one of the phones, the phone receiver was held up against the familiar face of Bob North. In one hand, he held a piece of notebook paper that was folded in eight sections. He frantically typed in a phone number only to punch the wrong button forcing him to mash the hook. Bob North took a deep breath and glanced over the piece of paper. On that paper were the names, addresses, and phone numbers of the Metadeliquents. North had everything planned out: he would call Rita and tell her if she didn’t break him out of prison, he would tell the world she was the Gatekeeper. He slipped the list back into his pocket as he listened to the phone ring on the other end.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end of the line was that of a young man’s. Maybe Rita’s brother, thought North. Just as he was about to ask for Rita, two men in black suits pulled him away from the phone letting it hit the ground.

“Just where the @#$%@$ are you taking me too!” North yelped out as he was forcefully led out of the room. “Don’t just stand there,” North cried out to one of the prison guards as he tried pulling away from the two black-suited men before they grabbed him with his heels dragging on the floor, “help me!” But Bob North’s pleads were ignored. The other prisoners gazed at the door in shock with only the voice from North’s phone breaking the silence.

“TJ, who was that on the phone,” asked Rita.

“Nobody,” said TJ as he put the phone back on the hook, “probably just a telemarketer.”


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Things aren’t going so well for Rita. Her team is falling apart at the seems and everyone thinks they’re bad guys. And now it looks like someone else will know the Metadeliquents’ secret identities. Is there anyone that can save the Metadeliquents? Well, Rita’s getting some help on her people skills from an unlikely source from a mysterious foreign exchange student. Tune in for the next issue of Metadeliquents.

[CrossoverManiac]

Here's a black and white pic of the Red Harpy.

[CrossoverManiac]

Metadeliquents: Issue 10
Sisterhood: Rita gets a new friend...whether she likes it or not
All characters are the intellectual property of Timothy Weaver, alias, Crossover Maniac.


The silence inside Rita’s room was broken by the electrical arcing of a portal. The Gatekeeper stumbled out of the vortex and flopped on the bed face first and arms extended. The white pillow with frills on Rita’s bed made an excellent muffle for the young superheroine’s pain-wretched moans. Her whole body was sore from her last mission.



Flashback

The sound from multiple machine guns firing on opposite sides of a pothole ridden street and bullets striking metal and brick orchestrated a symphony of death for the inner city neighborhood of Los Angeles. It all started rather innocently. One car cut in front of another. One problem: the drivers of both cars were from rival gangs and let’s just say one of them has been forced into an early retirement. It doesn’t matter who was at fault or even which gangs were involved. The gang bangers wanting to prove themselves now have their excuse to scratch their itchy trigger fingers and use each other for target practice. Worse was the fact that most of their bullets missed their targets and were coming dangerously close to hitting the law-biding residents. The gang bangers hid behind bullet-riddled cars peeking out busted door windows, shooting, and ducking back down. Occasionally, someone would look out their window and then duck back down and pray for an end to the ensuring gangwar.

Gatekeeper, Deathtone, Dawn and Dusk teleported on the corner of the block which grabbed the attention of the warring gang bangers away from killing each other. The Gatekeeper ran between the two sides and held her arms out as if to separate the two. “Stop shooting and put down your guns or else we’ll make you.” The gang members’ reply was to bombard Rita with a storm of lead. Fortunately, Punchline made all of the Metadeliquents bulletproof costumes. However, the bullets still had some effort as they knocked the Gatekeeper back and forth. Punch-drunk and dizzy from her blows, the Gatekeeper collapsed on her knees before hitting the asphalt face first. The Gatekeeper forced herself up and yelled “Everyone duck!” out to her team mates only to notice it was too late. By the time she recovered, Deathtone and the twins made short work of both gangs. The gang bangers were either blinded, reeling on the ground, pinned under Dusk’s shadow, or with their hands and their guns on the ground.

“That’ll show’em.” Rita groaned remembering Seth’s snide remark.



End of Flashback


Rita slowly peeled off her uniform and ached the entire time. As she was getting into her night clothes, her door swung opened with her brother TJ rushing into the room.

“Rita, I need you to do me a really big favor.”

Rita’s replied by throwing a pillow at her brother. “How many times I told you to knock,” she yelled.

“Um, I’m sorry sis.” TJ retreated from the room and then knocked on the door.

“Now, you can come in.” TJ carefully peered his head through the doorway. When he determined it was safe to come in, TJ crept inside and sat on Rita’s bed. “Rita, what are those red spots on you?”

“Great,” thought Rita, “he saw where I got shot.” Rita concentrated for a second. “I went over to a friend’s house and played with paintball guns.”

“Just remember to wear goggles,” said TJ, “I don’t want you losing an eye.” TJ then gave Rita a really big smile.”

“Oh boy,” Rita dreaded, “it must be a dozy.” TJ always goes into suck-up mode whenever he wants Rita do him ‘a favor’, and it usually involves a girl.

TJ patted Rita on the back. “You know Megumi, right?”

How could she forget Megumi? The way TJ gushed all over her made Rita cringed.

“Megumi’s got a little sister named Hitomi and she’s staying with her here, and she’s in your grade. I told Megumi you’d show Hitomi around.” TJ hugged Rita tightly and cried. “You wouldn’t leave that little girl all alone without a friend would you?”

Rita shoved her brother away. “Lay off the guilt trip will ya. You only want me to play tour guide for Megumi.” TJ looked to the side. “Besides, you told me to stop fooling around with my friends because they’d make me flunk fifth grade (actually, she was with the Metadeliquents). I can’t neglect school for Megumi.”

“So how long you want your curfew extended.” TJ looked at Rita with sulking eyes.

“Two hours.”

“Please you already get till 8 pm on school nights and 9 on weekends. That’s enough already.”

“One hour, and I’m not going any lower.”

“If I let you, you can’t let your grades drop or the deal’s off.” TJ held out his hand. “Deal?”

“I want it in writing.”





The following morning

Rita hastily paced around the block. Megumi’s sister was supposed to meet her twenty minutes ago, and she still haven’t shown. Any minute now, the bus will show up. Rita reassured herself that if she did this, she would have more time for her missions and wouldn’t have to worry about meeting her brother’s earlier curfew. Just then, Rita heard the roar of the old yellow school bus’ diesel engine. Well, Megumi’s little sister would just have to wait till tomorrow for her tour. Just as Rita turned the corner, she was bearing down at a stampeding Oriental girl with a jelly donut in her mouth mumbling that she was late over and over again heading straight for her. The two collided head on knocking Rita on her back and the other girl on top of her. Once she pushed the other girl off, Rita picked herself up and wiped the remains of the jelly donut off her face.

The girl clinched her hands together as her eyes watered up. “Gomen naisai! Gomen naisai! Gomen naisai! Gomen naisai! Gomen naisai! Gomen naisai!”

“Gomen naisai,” asked a bewildered Rita?

“It means ‘I’m sorry’. I’m terribly, terribly sorry. I was supposed to meet a girl here half an hour ago, and I woke up late because I had this nice dream about this cute boy...”

“You’re Hitomi Ida, right?”

The girl nodded her head and whispered, “Rita?” The girl started apologizing to Rita again. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to run into you.”

Rita ignored Hitomi’s apology and centered her attention to the bus heading up the road. She pulled Hitomi by her Japanese-style dark blue school uniform with red scarf towards their bus stop. Racing along side them was their bus which drove on by while some of the kids laughed and pointed at the two girls.

“Thanks for making me late,” Rita scolded the pig-tailed Japanese girl who started to whimper and then wailed like a baby who lost his favorite toy. “Wait! I’m not mad at you,” said Rita trying to calm Hitomi down.

“You’re not just saying that?”

Rita pushed back the urge to tell the girl off. “I mean it.”

Hitomi pounced on Rita hugging her. “Oh thank you so much.” Hitomi took Rita by the hand and hopped off to school singing some little song in Japanese.






Rita and Hitomi ran into homeroom as Mrs. Yohringer was making her way out of the classroom.

“Rita,” said the old teacher, “why are you late? First period is halfway over.”

“Mrs. Yohringer, I can explain,” said Rita.

“It was my fault.” Hitomi stepped in front of Rita. “I got lost on the way to the bus stop, and Rita found me. But the bus left her.”

“Well,” said Mrs. Yohringer, “you were late helping our new foreign exchange student. I guess I can write you an excuse for being late for class.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Hitomi smiled at Mrs. Yohringer.

“But don’t make a habit of it.”

Rita gave Hitomi a nasty glare. “We won’t Mrs. Yohringer, right Hitomi.”

“Right, Rita,” said Hitomi nervously as she put her hand on the back of her head.







It was the break after third period. So far, Hitomi kept close to Rita: sitting next each and walking side by side to class. By coincidence, both Rita and Hitomi had the same classes in the period. Rita set down on the bench in the rear of the snack room. Hitomi was making her way to the back with Rita, when a couple of girls got in her way. In the center of the group was a girl with beautiful black hair and blue eyes. She looked arrogant and sure of herself and stood in front of the rest of the girls folding her arms on her chest. Hitomi immediately got the impression she was the leader of the group.

“Can I help you?” asked Hitomi politely.

“No, but I can help you,” said the girl. Naomi looked Hitomi over circling her; sizing her up. “You have pretty clothes.”

Hitomi tugged on her dress. “Oh, this? It’s only my old school uniform.”

“You must be Hitomi.” Naomi smiled when Hitomi nodded her head ‘yes’. “My name is Naomi Styler. My granddaddy used to be the governor and my daddy’s rich. And I’m the most popular girl in school.”

Hitomi closed her eyes and smiled at Naomi. “How lucky you are!”

“Well yeah, and lucky for you, I’m going to save you from being a social dweeb.”

Hitomi touched her chin with her finger. “A social dweeb?”

“Don’t you know who that girl really is?” Naomi pointed to Rita who just noticed Naomi and Hitomi together. “She’s Rita Williams. Her father’s used to burn down buildings till he got caught in one and burned up in it. And she beat me up just when I tried cheering her up after he died.”

(continued on the next thread)

[CrossoverManiac]

(continued from the previous thread)

“That doesn’t sound at all like Rita.”

“Her whole family is full of psychos.”

“But she’s been so nice to me even when I made her late for class.”

“She likes pretending to be a nice girl. Rita’s really evil.”

Hitomi pushed her way through Naomi and her gang. “I don’t care. Rita’s a good person. And I don’t care if her father is evil. Rita’s isn’t.”

Naomi and her bunch folded their arms and leered at Hitomi. “You heard her. She wants to be with Rita. Let’s go. She’s a lost cause.” The girls shoved her as each of them walked by.

“Don’t you believe a word coming out of Naomi’s mouth,” said Rita with anger in her voice.

Hitomi closed her eyes and gave Rita a warm smile. “Don’t worry. I don’t.”

Rita grinned ever so slightly. “Umm, thanks.”




Mr. Wallace was always a consistent man who never changes his routine, and this was reflected in his forth period math class. “Seven times two is 14. Seven times two is 14. Remember class, it is a one and a four.” As usual, the class was bored to tears as Mr. Wallace repeated the multiplication table over and over again. Rita slumped over in his desk wondering why this man was teaching third grade math to fifth graders. Every Monday, Mr. Wallace would go over the multiplication table to make sure the students remember. Hitomi sat two rows to Rita’s right scribbling on a piece of paper. She passed the paper to a plump, short-haired girl next to her left and that girl passed the paper to Rita. Rita opened the note that read, ‘Who’s your favorite singer________________. Mine is Yui Sato”. She wrote on the line and passed it back to Hitomi, who didn’t quite like Rita’s reply. ‘Not now. We’re in class’. Hitomi wrote another note and passed it back at Rita. “Can’t wait. Please tell me_______________.’. Rita wrote on the paper ‘Megaton BBQ’ and sent it back. Hitomi wrote on another piece of paper and sent it back to Rita asking what songs Megaton BBQ sings. Rita passed back the paper. Hitomi read the list of songs: “Death to You All”, “Blood Bath”, “Hollow Point”, and “I Love Hate”. Hitomi’s forehead had a sweat drop run across it. Hitomi passed another note to Rita asking her to stop kidding. Rita had a puzzled look on her face and passed back the note to Hitomi which read ‘Why would I be kidding?’ Hitomi passed her another note changing the subject, unfortunately, the note was intercepted by Mr. Wallace.

“So you like passing notes?” Mr. Wallace said to Rita. “Well, let’s see what was so important that it couldn’t wait till after class Miss Williams: ‘who is your boyfriend’.” The class erupted in laughter.

“Psycho Rita doesn’t have a boyfriend,” laughed brown-haired girl.

“Maybe she has one in jail,” said a red-haired freckled boy. Rita shielded her face in his arms completely embarrassed.






Rita matched off the bus with Hitomi following. She kept her eyes locked to the front of the sidewalk not looking back much to Hitomi’s dismay. “Please Rita, don’t be mad at me.”

“I told you to stop passing notes. I only wrote you back because you wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“I just wanted to know more about you. But instead, you made up that weird stuff.

“I didn’t make up Megaton BBQ.”

“That’s a real group?”

Rita nodded her head. “It’s a heavy metal band. What sort of band is Yui Sato?”

“She isn’t a band. Yui Sato is an idol singer.”

“Idol singer?”

“She sings pop music.”

Rita rolled her eyes. “Not another pop singer.”

“You don’t like pop?”

“Please, it’s all the same.”

“No it isn’t. Heavy metal, now that’s what sounds the same.”

Rita spun around and said defensively, “Megaton BBQ has its own style.”

Hitomi grinned wickedly. “So you really like them.”

Rita glared at Hitomi and quickly turned around. “I don’t know why I’m talking to you. I’m still mad at you. Now the kids have something else to tease me...” Rita noticed that Hitomi wasn’t following her anymore, “...about.” Rita looked around and saw Hitomi talking with two middle school boys hanging out at a gas station. The first one had baggy pants going almost down to his knees and a really long basketball jersey and had a little bit of facial hair on his chin. The second one was wearing short pants and blue button-up shirt with a ninja on it and had long sideburns and spiky hair. Hitomi caught Rita in the corner of her eyes. She immediately ran back to Rita and dragged her to the boys. “This is Rita.” She looked at Rita and said, “I told them all about you.”

“Hey Hitomi,” said the unshaved boy, “Rita is cute like you said.” Rita tried to back away but Hitomi held on to her wrist while looking at Rita with a mischievous smile.

“I still think Hitomi’s hotter,” said the boy with the sideburns. The boy’s compliment was not unappreciated as Hitomi gazed at the boy with the sideburn with starry eyes.

“Hitomi,” said Rita, “they’re too old for you. They look like high schoolers.” Rita wasn’t able to reach the mesmerized Hitomi. “Fine then.” Rita ran behind the store.

At that point, Hitomi took noticed and ran after her. “Rita, I told them you needed a boyfriend. I can’t go double-dating without you.