Fan Fic

Any Fan Fic with Tbolts I will gladly post. Drop me a note! Now sit back and enjoy a good read!

A Quiet Place by JohnTFS. Submitted Jan 23 2001               Charcoal and Jolt featured

My name is Charlie Burlingham and I have a problem. Well, a decision, really. Since I've already kidnapped someone, I have to decide whether to commit cold-blooded murder as well. I'm also a superhero, which brings its own set of problems. The screaming guy I'm dangling over this cliff isn't a supervillain. He's actually a kid my own age, give or take a few months. Maybe I'd better start at the beginning. Going back through it all might give me some fresh perspective. At the very least it'll be better than listening to the begging of the guy I'm dangling over this cliff. ***** It all started this afternoon. Actually, that's not true. There were other things that happened to set things in motion, but I need to start the story somewhere. I guess I should have expected it to happen sooner or later. It's not like Mick and the 89ers have gotten better over time. I guess I'd better explain about them, too. The 89ers are a bunch of racist bullies who pretty well seem to run the school. Even the teachers shy away from them. I'm a black guy (a real one, unlike some people I could name) and Hallie's Asian. She's also partially paralyzed on her right side from when she got killed by being shot in the head. She's a superhero too, called Jolt. Superhero life can throw you some messed-up curves sometimes. Fortunately, superhero life has a few compensations, too. Hawkeye got a hold of Iron Man, who also spent some time paralyzed. Iron Man and MACH-2 (who's the "false" black guy, but still okay) modified some circuitry and build Hallie this leg-brace thing to help her walk. She controls it with this glove she wears. She can't go faster than a slow walk and she has a lot of trouble keeping her balance, but at least this way she won't need a wheelchair. She still cries a lot, though. I hear her at night. I know I'm jumping around with this story, but telling it is harder than it sounds. For one thing, Mick just wet himself and smell is getting to me a little. For another, I'm just not used to sharing thoughts and such with other people. I learned early on that the best policy for dealing with others was to keep my mouth shut unless ordered to speak. It's a hard habit to break. Before I became a superhero, I was a supervillain, believe it or not. All the Thunderbolts are, except for Hallie. I wasn't a supervillain for very long because I messed up my first job, which was to help the Secret Empire take over this town. The Thunderbolts came in, and sent me and my bosses in the Empire running for the hills. That's one reason I decided to join them when I ran away from the Empire to keep from being tortured any more. I figured that folks who were that tough could probably protect me. It didn't work out completely that way, of course, but that's another story and I want to tell this one. Anyway, Mick and co. didn't like Hallie because she was Asian, because she wasn't scared of them. The fact that she was pretty much helpless outside of her "Jolt form" probably encouraged them. It's been my experience that bullies prefer to target folks who can't (or won't) fight back. ***** When I mention that to the dangling Mick he cries and pleads a little more. I guess he just doesn't appreciate irony. ***** Forget it. I better get on with this. I was late to meet Hallie after school because I had to get some make-up assignments. I'd missed some school due to a bad cold. Actually, it was because we had to go to Latveria and rescue somebody, but that's yet another story. I'd just gotten the homework assignments and gone outside. I knew there was trouble because of the laughter. There's a lot of differences in laughter, did you know? There's the giggle kind, where you hear something funny. There's the screaming, gasping kind when somebody tickles you. There's even a full-blown bellylaugh. I laughed like that at the psycho-dog scene when Atlas rented <U>There's Something About Mary</u>. Hallie tried to tell us how gross and disgusting it was, but we didn't buy it because she laughed some too (even though she did try to hide it). She doesn't laugh much anymore. This laugh was a sniggering chuckle. It was the laugh of somebody who was hurting somebody else and enjoying it. It was easy to recognize because I heard it a lot when I was in the Secret Empire. Sometimes I even laughed like that myself. Around the corner of the building I saw what was so funny to them. Mick and two of his pals had surrounded Hallie. They looked a little like a wolfpack about to bring down a newborn fawn, except that I've learned in Biology that wolves are generally more decent than these guys could ever hope to be. The worst part was that I understood where they were coming from. I like Hallie. She's my best friend in the world, I think. But sometimes, for brief flashes of a second, I despise her. I look at her and see this slobber-voiced, crippled thing where my friend used to be. In the Secret Empire, she would have been put down like a lame horse. The Empire loathes weakness and it left its mark on me. "Just leave me alone, will you?" Hallie asked, although it came out more like "Jusd leeb be alode" because part of her face is paralyzed. She didn't sound scared, or even angry, just sad and tired. I hated to hear that tone in her voice. "Whatchu gonna do if we don't? Swing down from bell tower?" Mick asked with a snicker. "Hey, maybe she'll drool us to death!" guessed Sam, I think his name was. It's horrible to admit, but that did sort of gross me out too. She swallows it most of the time, but sometimes it'll just drip out through her lips. We all mostly pretend not to notice it at the base. She still knows we do. I lie and say it doesn't bother me, but she knows I'm lying and I know it hurts her. I wish I could make it better, but I don't know how. I stopped to think about the drool because I had to. If I'd thought another second about those guys I'd have killed them. I still wanted to. Just go Charcoal and burn them down 'til there was nothing left but ashes and bone a stink on the wind. I cut a couple of bloody crescents in my hand when I made a fist, but it worked. I wanted to kill them, but I wouldn't. At least not right now. Not right in front of Hallie. "Oopsie-slantie!" called Jim as he darted up to shove Hallie books out of her arms. The wind started to blow some loose pages away. That's when I said. "Leave her alone. Now." In a situation like this, attitude is key. If you're angry or upset, your enemy will sense it and take advantage of it. That's why I was speaking in a calm, reasonable tone. "Whatsamatter, Cole? You afraid I'm gonna mess up your little doggie here?" That was Sam. Sam tends to be brave in groups of his friends. "You wish. My bite's a lot worse than my bark!" Hallie called out. In the clear, strong voice she used to have, it would been a good comeback. Now it sounded like "You wiss. By bybe a lod word thad by barg." Some spit ran down her chin, too. In felt sad and a little disgusted. I'm pretty sure she saw it too because her shoulders slumped. "Give me one good reason to interrupt my fun, coon-boy." That was Mick playing the stateman-leader, I guess. "Because there's still a few teachers here. Because picking on a small crippled girl is a pretty pathetic way to get your jollies," I said. I shouldn't have let that crippled girl part slip out, but I was still mad. "And because if you don't, I'm going to hurt you." Among some of the things I learned as a "young soldier" for the Secret Empire was how to make people afraid. That was actually taught as a class there. Let's face it, jackbooted thugs are no good to the Empire if they can't scare people. Once again, attitude is the key. After he broke my friend, Derek's, finger by bending it back until it snapped, (Derek was whispering and got noticed) Elite Watson clued us in. "First, you have to be calm. You have to make a cold, quiet place in yourself where you can concentrate. Let your emotions wither and die in that cold place. You can't be distracted by fear or anger or mercy. Let your victim know that he is nothing to you." "You think you can take all of us?" Mick sneered back at me. There was an edge of fear in his voice. "Yes, I can," I said. "If you bother Hallie, I'll come and I'll hurt you, Mick. If your friends bother her, I'll come and I'll hurt you. Do you understand?" Elite Watson would have been proud of the quiet, oh-so-reasonable tone in my voice. It sounded like I meant every word of it. Even Hallie turned a pensive, disturbed look my way. For a second I thought he was going to push it that one last step. I almost wanted him to, but he didn't. "Screw the coon 'n' his slant. We got places to be." Mick said to his entourage. I don't think they bought his act either, but they were leaving and it was over. Almost. Once they got a little bit away, Sam turned, scooped up something from the ground and threw it. It looked like mud at first, where it hit Hallie on the leg, but it turned out to be some dog poop. Hallie tried really, really hard not to cry in front of me but she didn't quite pull it off. After we got her cleaned up I asked her, "So, how'd you like the bluff I ran on those guys?" I could see her relax a little when I said bluff. "It was a pretty good bluff," she said. We went back to the base and I got caught up on my homework. I had to because I was going to be busy tonight. ***** There's a second part to Elite Watson's lecture on fear and threats. You see, you also have to mean what you say and be willing to follow through on it. That's harder than it sounds. See, most people aren't "natural born killers." Most aren't even "natural born hurters." Depending on your view, people have an inborn resistance (or inborn weakness) to hurting members of their own species, especially in cold blood. It takes a lot of time, effort and patience before that resistance stops being a factor. As I stood outside Mick's house, I reflected that it was a useful thing that the Secret Empire put so much time, effort and patience into my training. My "superpower" (that word sounds really stupid when used to describe what you can do) involves carbon. I can harden my body to diamond hardness. I can radiate flame and fly. I can also turn myself soft and stretch my body into many forms. That means I can, oh, say, stretch up to Mick's window and look inside. It's more than a little creepy to see a poster of Captain American side by side with one of Nathan Bedford Forrest. Forrest was a Confederate cavalry office and became one of the founders of the Ku Klux Klan. I know this because I missed that question on Mrs. Dulhicky's pop quiz and I hate to make the same mistake twice. It's a funny thing to think about, but no house can be totally secure. Even with the doors locked and the windows closed, there are still cracks and gaps. I exploit this by gradually sliding my hand under Mick's window. It hurts a little, but I've had worse. Pretty soon I unlock and open the window. Throughout all this, Mick's been sleeping the sleep of the righteous. Well, the self-righteous, anyway. He's wearing checkered flannel pajamas, which is good since I really don't want to touch him. Things move pretty fast after that. I reach in, grab him and yank him out the window. Before he's more than half-awake, I expand my form to create a diamond-hard "carrying case" for him. I distantly feel him pounding inside me like a dying old man's heartbeat, but I ignore it. I also try really hard not to think about him being "inside" me, because, well, it's just too gross to think about. Pretty soon we're at the cliff and now I have to decide what to do. I think about in my quiet place and reach a decision. I drop him off the cliff. Even inside I hear that awful despairing scream he makes as he falls. Then I catch him before he's fallen a hundred feet. As I carry him back home, he makes noise. It's funny to me. Hallie's crippled and twisted in body. Mick's crippled and twisted in his soul. I almost pity him. Almost. I gag his mouth with soft coal and break one his toes, the middle one on his left foot. It's harder to do than I thought it would be. Not physically, but mentally. Part of our training in the Empire consisted or torturing and killing animals. First lizards and frogs, then cows and horses and finally monkeys, puppies and kittens. I never liked it, but I did it. It was pretty much "you do it to Fido or it gets done to you." Sorry Fido. I guess my time with the Thunderbolts has changed me some. I'm not quite sure if that's good or bad. Somebody has to make the hard choices, after all. "He did tell you he'd hurt you, didn't he, Mick?" I remind him. Mick manages a nodding motion and I tell him to remember that for next time. I also explain how it'd be in his best interests not to mention this little meeting because I like my privacy. Then I leave. ***** There's one other thing bothering me, though. I couldn't kill him. I wanted to. It probably would have been the smartest, safest way to shut down the 89ers. Without Mick the Mouth, they'd probably go back to sniffing glue or hustling lunch money or whatever it was they did before they found a Cause. I guess that cold, quiet place inside me isn't quite big enough to accept murder. Yet. Techno put some pretty bloody and realistic video games in the computer while he was impersonating Ogre. I guess even an evil robot-villain needs some downtime once in a while. It's not like puppies and kittens (thank God), but it'll do. I just need to invest a little time, effort and patience…

Click here to email JohnTFS comments

Rootless by Samy Merchi. Xforce is also invovled, but this story has a wonderful emphasis on Moonstone, really digs into her personality.

3) This story has been written by Samy Merchi <samerc@mash.yok.utu.fi>. Any commentary in the form of compliments or critique is welcomed, and eagerly hoped for. So go ahead and drop me a line telling me what you thought, okay? It'll make my day. ;) 4) This story is being archived at least at my fanfic page at <http://www.utu.fi/~samerc/fanfic/index.html>. Previous parts can be found there if needed. ********************************************************************** DRAMATIS PERSONAE: Mirage. Sunspot. Meltdown. Warpath. Siryn. *********************************************** * X-FORCE/THUNDERBOLTS -- ROOTLESS, Chapter 4 * *********************************************** DRAMATIS PERSONAE: Moonstone. MACH-1. Songbird. Atlas. Jolt. < This story takes place > < after page 14 of THUNDERBOLTS #15, > < and after X-FORCE #71 and VALENTINE'S NIGHT > PREVIOUSLY IN ROOTLESS: During their trek thru America, X-Force, consisting of Danielle 'Mirage' Moonstar, Roberto 'Sunspot' Da Costa, Tabitha 'Meltdown' Smith, James 'Warpath' Proudstar and Theresa 'Siryn' Rourke Cassidy have come upon the small town of Boulder, Colorado on their way westwards. However, little do they know that the town of Boulder is currently home and haven to the fugitive former supervillains called the Thunderbolts, consisting of Karla 'Moonstone' Sofen, Abner 'MACH-1' Jenkins, Melissa 'Songbird' Gold, Erik 'Atlas' Josten and Hallie 'Jolt' Takahama. X-Force had dinner at the Kozy Kot restaurant where both Abe and Melissa work, and there was some mild flirting between Roberto and Melissa, which caused some strain in Abe and Melissa's relationship. After Abe and Melissa get off work, they're confronted in an alley by Roberto, who flirts with Melissa, and thus causes Abe to attack him. He knocks Abe out, and then tells Melissa that he intends to call SHIELD so the Thunderbolts will be brought to justice. < ROOTLESS, Chapter 1 > Melissa and Abe then informed the rest of the Thunderbolts of the situation, and they decided to have a 'talk' with Roberto about the whole matter. The next morning, as X-Force left Boulder and headed northwards along a road from the city, they were suddenly ambushed by the Thunderbolts who demanded to talk to Roberto... < ROOTLESS, Chapter 2 > And last time, we started the obligatory fight-scene, where among other things, Karla got nailed by a psionic arrow of Danielle's... < ROOTLESS, Chapter 3 > ...and this time, we'll finish it! *** "...GUILTY!" The word impacts onto your ears like a whipcrack, but not a single muscle on your face moves, as you watch the juror, Mr Rogers, who seems familiar somehow, in grim silence. Not a single muscle in your entire body moves, after your head turns to regard the judge, and your eyes narrow in defiance. You watch the other woman with a harsh, unforgiving stare, already knowing what Judge Walters would say. But you don't care. It doesn't matter to you. She's not you, and only you matter to yourself. "...and so..." the voice goes on, and you notice you've already missed a good part of what the judge has been saying, lost in your own thoughts "...Karla Sofen, for your crimes as Moonstone, you are sentenced to death by lethal injection, to be carried out on July 4th of this year at Riker's Island penitentiary..." You wait. You sit in silence, like those words mean nothing to you, until two police officers grab your arms, and lift you up from the chair you're sitting in. If you only had your powers, you'd rip their arms off for even daring to touch you. But even still, no expression on your face. Don't give them the pleasure, right? You're not afraid, are you? You're in control, aren't you? You're always in control. They just don't know it. Right? You walk quietly with the policemen, to the car waiting outside, and one of them roughly puts you in the back seat. "I bet your wife left you because you beat her", you hiss in response, and from the way the officer freezes for a moment, you know you hit the nail right on the head. And you smile, knowing that you're Karla Sofen, and you are in control of the situation. You know the men holding you better than they know themselves, even though they've barely said a word to you. You read their mannerisms, the things they say to each other when they think you're not listening, you watch how they react to newspaper headlines as you pass a newsstand on the way to the car... You're a psychiatrist, Karla Sofen. You're always in control. Of everyone. Except yourself? Is that why you always keep so emotionally distant from everything and everyone? You don't want to end up like the pathetic sheep who let their emotions rule them, you want to see them rut around in their feelings, you want to see them wallow in everything that humanity is -- because that makes them readable. Predictable. And you don't want to be readable, predictable to anyone. Because then you'd be weak. And it could be used against you, like you use everything you read about other people against themselves. Your smile slowly fades, as the weeks pass in Riker's Island. You take your pleasure where you can get it. You incite your cellmate to beat up a woman who's been accosting her, and your cellmate goes into isolation, and you get the cell all to yourself. You convert another prisoner into some obscure anti-materialistic religion you once read about, so she'll give you a few chocolate bars she's been scrounging away. The woman who tried to rape your cellmate tries the same with you, and within five minutes, you have her on the floor of the shower room, weeping like there was no tomorrow, without ever having even touched her, as you bring up buried memories of her dead son, her harsh parents who beat her almost daily, the disappointment in the eyes of her lover after she was found guilty of murder... And you smile, Karla Sofen. You smile, because you're in control of the situation. You know that you know the other inmates better than they know themselves, and they're at your mercy. You take your pleasure where you can get it, and you can get it from knowing that you're in control. But being in control of the other inmates isn't enough when the day comes. The hour comes. You're escorted out of your cell. And as your footsteps ring out hollowly against the stone floor, and the priest walks before you, reciting some prayers, you realize something. You're afraid, Karla Sofen. You're afraid. As much as you try to deny it, when you reach the last room you'll ever be in, and see the chair, your eyes widen in terror. You suddenly realize that it isn't you who's in control. You're not in control. You can't do anything about this situation. Not a cursed thing. Not one single thing. Your breathing goes shallow. Your head starts going dizzy, your eyes blurring. Your mouth is dry, your lips cracking. You're not in control. You're not in control. You're not in control. Those words ring thru your mind, time and time again. You struggle helplessly, screaming and resisting, but it doesn't help, as you're put in the chair, and restraints put on to hold you in place. You scream in terror, tears streaming down your eyes. You don't want to go. You don't want to die. You must be in control. You have to be in control. You have to be. You have to be able to control this situation somehow. You must be able to save yourself. You can't. You're not in control. Was it worth it, Karla Sofen? Was it worth it, never to feel anything in your life? Never to feel real friendship. Never to feel love. Never to hold a man in your arms, hearing him whisper in your ear that he loves you, and actually know that he meant it. Never to have anyone who'd be willing to sacrifice their lives for you. Never to find anyone who could fill that empty place in your heart, because you never let anyone in. You were a cold, calculating woman, Karla Sofen. But you're here, sitting in the chair, anyway. And as you see the doctor in front of you, testing the syringe by squirting a bit of liquid out thru the tip, do you think it was worth it? You're crying, you know. Crying like on another July 4th almost three decades ago, when you were out watching the fireworks on a dark night on the lawn of the house your father had just bought. You tripped on the garden hose, and hit your head on a rock on the ground. You cried so much your father thought you'd never stop. But he held you, and it stopped eventually, and you felt better. Who's going to hold you now, Karla Sofen, now that you've pushed everyone away? Who's going to make things better? You feel the syringe plunge into your arm, and you scream, scream louder, scream more helplessly, scream in more terror than you've ever felt. Your life isn't in your own hands anymore, Karla Sofen. It's in other peoples' hands now. And you never trusted anyone but yourself with your life. The only person who could come to do a last-minute rescue is yourself. And you're restrained. You're alone. Did you have dreams, Karla Sofen? Did you ever fantasize of a real life? A husband, children, a house, two cars, a picket fence...? ...no. No, you really didn't, did you? That would have been emotional, thinking about love, happiness, safety, things normal people take for granted. You shut out emotions. You never felt a warm emotion in your life after your parents died, and you decided that shutting love out, being in control, was the only way to survive. You feel a cold emotion now, Karla Sofen. You feel terror, as your throat's raw with screaming, tears streaming down your cheeks. That will be your last emotion. "You know", Theresa lightly remarked to Songbird as they dogfighted in the sky, "your constructs're made o' sound." She narrowed her lips, letting out a sharp, inaudible, supersonic whistle. "All I need t' do's produce a counter-wavelength, an'..." "Oh no!" Melissa gasped, as suddenly the pink wings carrying her aloft dissolved into nothingness, and she fell a few dozen feet, to the ground, the air knocked out of her lungs as she fell onto her back, her eyes blacking out momentarily. "Way to go, Terry!" Tabitha smiled from across the road, as she saw the last Thunderbolt go down. "You're...nnff...not getting rid of me...that easily", Melissa growled, as she got up, her backside aching like it had gotten slammed by the Thing. "Just watch me!" Theresa replied, and swooped down towards Melissa from the sky, pulling her fist back to drop the Thunderbolt down where she was standing. "There's a word for that where I come from", Melissa muttered, as she waited, watching Theresa approach, and then, at the last moment, grabbed her, and used her forward momentum to throw the redheaded mutant right into Meltdown! "OOOFF!!" "UMPHHH!!" Tabitha went, as Theresa slammed against her with the force with which she intended to take Songbird down, and more. The two women collapsed in a heap of tangled arms and legs. "It's 'stupid'", Melissa said sharply, as she watched, without a smile, her wrestling maneuver succeed. "Well, you're not gonna get to try that on me, Songbird", Danielle Moonstar said, as she pointed her bow and arrow, both of seething psionic energy, towards Melissa. "I won't have to", Songbird simply replied. "I'm a psychiatrist", came a positively freezing voice behind Danielle. "You think you're going to beat *me* with mindgames??" Dani whirled around, with reflexes trained for years by the best, but before she got halfway around, a powerful energy pulse erupted outwards from Moonstone, knocking her back by several dozen yards, and she landed roughly on the desert ground, unconscious. "I swear I'm going to kill her", Karla hissed sharply, then sighed and shook her head. Anger wasn't logical. Stay in control. Don't be predictable. Don't be readable. Don't be weak. "Gather them all up, Songbird. I'll go wake up the others." Melissa nodded once, and a low sonic hum filled the air as she created pink solid-sound ropes, manacles and chains to immobilize X-Force with. "Josten, get up, you miserable excuse for a soldier!" Moonstone hissed into Atlas ear. "What, you think we're here for a summer camp or something?? Get your butt up right this moment or it's grass and I'm a lawnmower, GET IT?? You think you can just give up and run away into sleepyland? Well, you're wrong!" she snapped harshly. "I won't let you! You think you'll just get kicked out so you can run more if you don't wake up? You're wrong. You're off to clean the toilets with your toothbrush so fast your head will spin off your shoulders if you don't open those eyes RIGHT NOW!" "Unnh..." Atlas groaned softly, as his eyes started opening, and looked at Karla. "Anyone ever tell you you'd make one hell of a drill sergeant, Moonstone?" Karla didn't answer, her interest in Atlas having been little other than to get him awake as soon as possible, and she next headed over to MACH-1, and knelt down beside him, rapping her knuckles against his helmet a few times in a knock. "Time to wake up, sleepyhead", she cooed softly. "People are waiting for you at work, Abe. You know they can't get anything done right in there without you there to take care of them. They can't get things going without you, darling. Come on", she said softly, tapping the helmet again a few times. Abe Jenkins' eyes opened in a flutter, and they looked at Karla confusedly. "I just had the weirdest dream..." he said as he started getting up a bit, and winced slightly as electricity sparked at a few places where the armor had been damaged the most. "I don't think I can do much until I get a chance to work a bit on this armor..." "We'll have time, Jenkins", Karla simply replied in as cold a tone as she ever wore, and then stood up. "Go make sure Songbird can keep our prisoners secure." She then headed over towards the last fallen Thunderbolt, Jolt. "Good morning, honey", she whispered softly into Jolt's ear as she picked the teenage girl up, to cradle Jolt softly in her arms. "Mommy's here, Hallie. Mommy's here, and she'll never leave you again, that's a promise. What do you want to do today, honey? Want to go see the Statue of Liberty? Or to a zoo? Or to a concert? I know how you love music, Hallie..." Some time later, X-Force started waking up, and found themselves not only bound by a variety of bonds by Songbird, but as well held in the mountain-crushing grip of Atlas' gigantic fist. "And now", Karla said in an icy tone, "whoever you are, you're going to LISTEN to us." "You think you can hold us?" Roberto asked, his eyes burning brightly with bright white energy, threateningly. "Cool it, 'Berto", Dani whispered. "If they wanted to kill us, they'd have done it already. I say we hear them out." "At least *someone* has brains here", Songbird commented dryly. "Shh, Songbird", Karla said, and then looked over to Dani. "We don't want to hurt you", she then said, simply. "We're not villains. We *were* villains, yes. But we changed, when we posed as heroes. Without us, the planet would be under Zemo's power. WE stopped him, after he mind-controlled the Avengers and the Fantastic Four. If you don't believe us, then you're making a mistake. You can check out story from Iron Man. We only want a chance to show the world that we've turned." X-Force remained silent for a few moments. "Convenient", Roberto said after a while. "We let you go, we go ask Iron Man, and he says your story's a lie." Tabitha frowned slightly, thoughtfully. "Think, 'Berto", Dani said sharply. "If they were still villains, why wouldn't they have killed us while we were unconscious?" "If they're telling the truth, they deserve a shot at making this work", Jimmy commented. "Aye", Theresa nodded. "I was a criminal once, wit' me uncle Tom an' the Juggernaut. But I changed me ways." "Do I have to remind you of...Him, 'Berto?" Dani asked. Roberto frowned as he was reminded of having been the terrorist Reignfire, and how he was accepted back into X-Force after that. He didn't reply. "They're telling the truth", Tabitha said after a while. "How d' you know?" Theresa asked. "You learn a lot of things in the streets... Like telling what's a lie or a bluff. They're not lying." Theresa frowned a bit, and then looked over to Moonstone. "All right", she nodded. "We believe you, an' we'll be lettin' ye go." "Hang on", Dani frowned. "Why did you guys come after us in the first place?" she asked, looking at Karla. "Because", Songbird interjected, pointing at Roberto, "HE said he was gonna turn us in to SHIELD!" X-Force, Roberto included, blinked at that statement, and the four other members turned to look at him. "Well, this is another fine mess you've gotten us into", Tabitha remarked. "I've done no such thing!" Roberto claimed loudly. "I've never seen any of you before!" Karla turned to look at Melissa, who shook her head emphatically. "It was YOU!" she screamed back. "YOU knocked Abe into a wall, and threatened you'd turn us in!!" Roberto's eyes narrowed. "When?" he asked sharply. "After we got off work", MACH-1 replied. "8 pm or so, yesterday." "But that can't be", Dani interjected. "We were -- We were...uhh..." Then, she blushed slightly, and went quiet. "Jesus!" Tabitha blinked incredulously. "How often DO you guys go at it???" Dani just sighed quietly, and looked down for a moment, before looking over to Songbird. "You're the waitress", she finally realized, and blinked. Then, she controlled herself. "Look, I was with 'Berto at that time... There's no way he could have done that. It had to be someone else, impersonating him." Karla's eyebrow rose a bit, and she frowned thoughtfully, then cursed silently, as her eyes widened. "Oh no", she said quietly, under her breath. "What's wrong, Moonstone?" Hallie asked, frowning at Karla's expression. Everyone looked at Karla curiously, but before she could explain, MACH-1's voice said what she was about to. "Zemo", he simply said, taking off his helmet, a grim expression on his face. "Yes", Karla nodded. "Zemo and Techno." She sighed, and looked towards the town. "They know where we are." Melissa's eyes widened slightly in fear, even as Erik's forehead furrowed in the same emotion. Techno snapped his fingers, as he hovered high in the sky, his sensory equipment keeping tabs on X-Force and the Thunderbolts, recording all the available input. "Oh well", he muttered, and his bootjets flared, and he briefly checked all his systems as he soared off thru the clouds, southwards, towards a castle in Mexico, including the recently-used image inducer and voice disguiser circuits. "Baron?" he spoke into the radio link. "Looks like this plan's fallen flat on its face... But don't worry", his mechanical face smiled. "I can Fix things. Ever heard of a guy called Graviton...?" [1] [1] For more on Graviton, see THUNDERBOLTS #17 "...you're sure you don't need any help against this Zemo guy?" Tabitha asked, X-Force having been put down, their bonds dissolved, and the two teams now conversing amicably. Karla glanced at the expressions of the Thunderbolts, then shook her head. "I don't think we're heading off to confront him anytime soon", she replied, and looked over towards Atlas, knowing how much he inwardly sighed in relief at her statement. "I'm sorry I blamed you", Melissa told Roberto with an apologetic expression. "Don't worry about it", Roberto smiled back, and bowed down to take her hand into his, and kiss it lightly. "If it'll lead into meeting you again, you can blame me as often as you want." "Watch it", Abe snapped at Roberto, and put his arm around Melissa's shoulders, pulling her back a bit from Roberto, and then muttered quietly into Melissa's ear, "At least Techno got him pegged good..." "Yeah, he's very charming", Melissa smiled innocently at Abe, then wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him passionately. "And you're silly when you're jealous." Erik sat silently on the ground, the top of his head nonetheless higher than the roof of a one-story house. Jolt sat on his shoulder. "...mutants, huh?" she asked Jimmy. "I've never met a mutant. Well, except for Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch, but that wasn't a meeting, really..." Jimmy grinned slightly. "And I've never met anyone altered by Arnim Zola, so I guess we're even, huh?" He tapped his fist against Erik's thigh. "You pack a pretty mean punch. I don't think even the Juggernaut hit that hard..." Erik didn't hear the words for a few moments, his eyes locked elsewhere, and then turned to look at Jimmy. "Hu-hm? What'd you say?" Jimmy's eyes followed Erik's, to where he had been looking, to the redheaded Irish woman, and he smiled slightly. "Beautiful, isn't she?" "Just...reminded me of someone", Erik replied quietly, looking down at the ground as his thoughts went elsewhere...or rather, were there such a word, elseONE. "It can be hard leavin' behind all that one's been, all their life", Theresa said to Karla. "Thankfully, me uncle Tom tried t' shield me from his criminal life until he sound out about me mutant powers, so I hadn't been one f'r long before th' X-Men brought me to me Da, an' I changed me life 'round." "No...no it isn't", Abe replied, as he and Melissa walked closer. "But the choice to turn around is the toughest. Once that's past...the hardest part is behind. Not that the rest's gonna be any cakewalk though, but..." He shrugged a bit. "Finding a new future is never easy", Roberto commented. "X-Force have been fugitives once or twice ourselves. Thanks to my lovely Danielle, we're on good terms with SHIELD right now, but we've had our scuffles with them." "'Your' lovely Danielle?" Dani asked, quirking an eyebrow. Roberto smiled and silenced Dani with a light kiss to her pouting lips, and then looked back to Karla. "If there is anything we can do to help --" "I can try to talk to Bridge and explain your situation", Dani offered. Karla smiled slightly. "That would be appreciated", she nodded to Dani. "But other than that..." She shook her head. "I don't think there's much you or anyone can do. Besides spread the word. Tell your various X-friends to not attack us on sight." "We kindasorta ditched'em", Tabitha answered. "We're not much in touch with them anymore." Karla smiled dryly. "Talk about analogies..." she commented. "Seems we've both strayed a wee bit from our roots", Theresa smiled in return. "You from your villain friends, an' us from th' X-Men." "And we're both trying to make new lives", Hallie smiled. "Except you're wanted fugitives", James said, "and we're not. And, ironically enough, you try to make a new life in one place, while we try to make a new life 'on the run', in a way." Hallie smiled faintly. "Weird, isn't it, how things go?" "Speakin' o' goin'", Theresa interrupted, "we'd best be gettin' on our way if we want t' make it to the next town 'fore sunset. It was a pleasure meetin' ye, Dr. Sofen", she said, briefly shaking Karla's hand. Karla didn't reciprocate with another pleasantry, but instead looked to Dani, briefly. Then to Roberto, even more briefly, and then nodded, once. "Thunderbolts -- let's go back home." Erik shrank back to normal human size, and Melissa hummed softly, forming a solid-sound platform which carried him, Abe and Hallie, then lifted off into the air, Karla flying southwards alongside the others. X-Force gathered their backpacks and other things from the side of the road, and then glanced up and down the road. Tabitha frowned, and sighed. "Still no car in sight", she commented, and started trudging northwards along the road. "I really hate this." "You hate everything, Tabitha." "No I don't. I like a good, hot, long bath. And a soft bed. And a %&# $@&£ car that actually WORKS." "Okay, *almost* everything." "Oh shut up." "99 bottles of beer on the wall, 99 bottles of beer..." "SHUT UP!" came several voices. High in the air, the Thunderbolts kept flying back towards Boulder, and Moonstone glanced back over her shoulder, towards X-Force walking off. They were a family. She had seen it in them. In their gestures, in their tones, in their words, in their everything. X-Force was a family. She then glanced to her side, at the four Thunderbolts, and by the way they were talking, chatting and smiling at each other, she knew that they -- if not yet, then at the very least soon -- would be one, too. Except for her. You can never have a family, Karla Sofen. You can't make that commitment. You can't love and live with others. To you, there is always...only yourself. And you know that when you get sentenced to death, one day, there won't be anyone to put their life on the line to save you. And that, in the end, is the saddest part, Karla. X-Force and Thunderbolts might all at the moment be torn from their roots, but the thing is, as long as there's life, there's hope. And the roots will regrow. If not to some place, then to the people around you. It's human nature to grow attached to places and people. It's human nature to live and love. And you deny yourself that. You deny yourself the family, and the chance for love that might one day save you. You're a cold and calculating woman, Karla Sofen. And that is why you will always be ruthless and... ...rootless.

Moonstone versus Warbird. Warbird won our Versus Poll, how did it go in this Fan Fic? Read and see! Story by Van Plexico

Ms. MARVEL #27 by Van Plexico "A Thin Line Between Love and Hate!" "That's IT, Moonstone! I've had ENOUGH!" Ms. Marvel pulled herself to her feet, wiping absently at the small trickle of blood-- blood!-- running down her jaw, from her lip. Moonstone crouched, waiting, ready. Her metallic costume bore testimony to the violence of her first clash, seconds earlier, with the Fighting Fury. She glared back at Ms. Marvel, eyes narrow. In an instant, they had clashed once again. Ms. Marvel surged forward, lashing out, her gloved fist homing in unerringly toward Moonstone's chin. The two shapely female forms collided savagely, bodies twisting together as they tumbled head over heels across the floor, hands at one another's throat. They exchanged punches once more, even as they rolled about. Carol sought to pull away, to gain some distance to prepare another attack, but Moonstone would not allow it; the golden-clad villainess kept the fighting close, kicking and punching and occasionally striking with a burst of energy. Carol endured the onslaught and returned in kind, and slowly began to think that this fight could go on forever, with neither of them ever able to gain the upper hand. But that wouldn't cut it. Because, even as the two blonde powerhouses battled, mere yards away, in the next chamber, Captain America drew ever closer to death. Death at the hands of a hate-filled and heavily-armed mob, a mob wishing nothing more than to slay the star-spangled Avenger with their bare hands. Carol Danvers fought on in a sort of autopilot mode, then, as her mind searched back, over the events of the past few days-- the events that had led her to this point… ***** Earlier… "I think you were right, after all, Carol," Captain America said softly. "Going out in costume was the right call." Captain America and Ms. Marvel sat at a private table in one of New York City's finer restaurants, one of the few that didn't object too strenuously to super-heroes dropping in. The menus lay open before them, but neither had glanced at the pages yet. They were still eyeing the tables around them, both of them somewhat surprised-- and relieved-- that little in the way of a fuss had been raised by their arrival. Cap had objected to going out in costume, at first, because he'd felt certain they'd get no peace from fans, critics, and other rubberneckers. But Carol had done her homework, found a restaurant where not only the food was good, but the usual clientelle would take their visit in stride. "It just goes to reason, Steve," she replied, "that if we're going to be seen together, then better it be as two known associates, than as two civilians. Because if we're spotted as civilians by someone who knows one of us, they could put two and two together, and…" Cap nodded. "Right." He lifted the menu, scanned over it. "I have to admit," he said quietly, glancing back at her, "I was somewhat startled when you… asked me out." Carol smiled. "You didn't think I was attracted to you?" Cap pursed his lips. "I didn't think about it, one way or the other, to be honest," he replied. Carol considered. This was the one man who could say something like that without giving any sort of offense. He was Captain America. He thought about bigger issues, larger ideals. If he hadn't considered that she might like him, then he simply hadn't given it any thought. Satisfied, she smiled again. "To be honest," Cap continued, "my reaction probably came from the fact that I grew up in another era. Back then, women rarely came across as… boldly… as you." At this, Ms. Marvel couldn't resist a laugh. "Well, hey, I'm supposed to be the poster girl for women's lib, right? What else was I to do?" This time they both laughed. Carol turned her attention to the menu. "So-- what to eat? For our first date, it should be something memorable--" And of course it was at that point that the waiter rushed them, brandishing a butcher knife. Cap caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, and instinctively raised his shield arm. The shield, however, rested on the floor, leaning against the table leg. Recovering his control instantly, Cap caught the waiter's arm and used a judo move to throw the man over the table and across the floor. Captain America and Ms. Marvel were both on their feet now, scanning around, seeing the other patrons fleeing in shock from the waiter with the knife. After making certain the civilians were safely out of the dining room, Cap strode forward, confronting the man with the knife. "Alright, buddy. That's enough. Drop the knife and--" The waiter screamed in anger and lunged forward again. Before Cap could execute his own move, Carol had already moved forward, catching the man in mid-leap, smashing him to the floor. Before anyone could blink, Carol had the knife wrenched out of his hand and her foot planted firmly on his back, pressing him to the floor. "Nice work," Cap started to say-- but then, of course, he saw the entire kitchen staff, as well as the customers who had fled moments earlier, all rushing back into the room, armed with whatever knives and utensils they'd been able to grab, teeth bared, their eyes filled with hate. ***** "Hate…" Ms. Marvel wrestled away from Moonstone and backhanded her, gaining just enough separation to take a deep breath and then strike out again, her fist smacking the villainess roughly across the cheek. Moonstone gritted her teeth and struck back, savagely, sending Carol to her knees. "This is it, Danvers!" Moonstone grinned evilly as she moved in again. Ms. Marvel struggled to rise, blinking in surprise. "'Danvers--?' You said--?" "That's right-- I know who you are! But you know what? I don't care! Don't care at all! All I want to do now-- is beat you into a little, blonde pulp!" Something was nagging at Carol's mind, though she found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. This isn't like Moonstone, she thought to herself. She's a schemer, a manipulator. She lives for useful bits of psychological insight that she can turn against her enemies. She wouldn't just casually toss something like that away, and resort to physical violence. She's behaving irrationally-- even for her! But something else was bothering Carol, just out of reach of her thoughts… Moonstone's fist brought Ms. Marvel back to reality. "Daydream all you want, Danvers-- it's only making my job easier!" The lithe blonde leered at her. "I'm going to beat you to a pulp! Do you understand me? A PULP!" Ms. Marvel backed away, on the defensive, knowing that something wasn't right here. "Someone's manipulating you, Moonstone! Can't you tell?" "Don't try to distract me," Moonstone hissed back. "You can't get into my head! I'm a psychiatrist, remember? And you-- if anyone's ever needed a psychiatrist, it's YOU!" Moonstone raised a balled fist. "Here-- LET ME PRESCRIBE SOME HELP FOR YOU!" BA--WHAMM!!! ***** Earlier: Cap and Ms. Marvel had been forced to fight much more cautiously than either would have liked. They instinctively knew-- understood, from their years of experience-- that something was controlling these people. Why else would random diners and waiters and chefs suddenly attack them, with a single-minded sense of purpose and hatred? So they fought, and tried not to seriously hurt anyone; and the attackers fought, and tried to kill. By the time the diners from other rooms of the restaurant, as well as people from the street outside, began to fill the ranks with reinforcements, Cap and Ms. Marvel knew the battle could not be won here. They'd fled, Ms. Marvel blasting through a wall-- the only wall they could reach. On the other side, they'd found themselves in a darkened room. Before they could react, gas had sprayed into their faces, and they'd fallen, unconscious. The next thing Carol Danvers knew, she was facing a maddened Moonstone, and Cap was holding off yet another army of killers. Which brings us back around to the present: ***** Carol reeled back from the vicious blow, staggering. Moonstone pressed forward. "Actually, here's a second opinion. All I care about right now is seeing you DEAD!" She unleashed a blast of energy, a blast that Ms. Marvel only narrowly avoided, flinging herself backwards and away. Maddened, furious, Moonstone twisted her voluptuous form about, her long blonde hair streaming behind her as she launched herself into the air and hurled herself toward Carol. Ms. Marvel did likewise. They barreled towards one another WHAMMM! The two women clashed, hard. Both dropped to the floor, reeling. Carol recovered first. She lunged at Moonstone, and the two women again crashed to the floor, first one, then the other on top, pummeling the other with blows. Carol's sash was stripped off; Moonstone's golden armor shattered in places and fell away. Within moments, the two women stood glaring at one another, their tough hides intact but their somewhat less impervious costumes in tatters. They were both nearly naked, now, but neither seemed to notice, or to care. All that occupied both their minds was the utter annihilation of the other. Moonstone lashed out with a blast, but Carol, summoning her deepest reserves of strength, ducked under it and caught the villainess with a savage uppercut. As Moonstone reeled back, Carol swung a roundhouse punch that laid the Thunderbolt out on the floor. Before Moonstone could recover, Carol was upon her, both fists smashing repeatedly into her face. "Ms. Marvel!" Came a shout, from somewhere… Moonstone's facemask had long since shattered and fallen away; only Karla's unprotected face absorbed the blows now. Blood splattered from her lip and her nose. One eye swelled. Still, Carol attacked. "Ms. Marvel! CAROL!!" The voice-- the shout-- finally penetrated Ms. Marvel's brain. She hesitated, just long enough to look around. It was Captain America, who had made it halfway into the room, only to be buried beneath a sea of attackers. His arms and legs pinned within the mass of humanity, Cap nonetheless had his head turned so that he could see the two battling women, and was shouting, again: "CAROL! STOP IT!!" The buzzing in Ms. Marvel's head continued, but she fought to regain at least some of her senses. She looked down, and saw a strange sight: Moonstone, nearly unconscious-- or nearly dead!-- and nearly naked, too-- lying beneath her. The woman's face was bruised, bloody, and swollen; and now that Carol thought about it-- or was able to think about it-- her own face felt as if it must look fairly similar. "What-- what am I doing?" she whispered. Moonstone could only moan in response. Carol's thoughts cleared a tad more. Things began to make sense. Something in her head clicked, then. "It's hate, don't you get it, Moonstone? HATE!" Moonstone's head was buzzing, both from the beating and from… something else. "Whu-- what?" Ms. Marvel gazed into the shadows. "He's there-- in the darkness. Filling us-- both of us, as well as that crowd that wants to kill Cap-- with hate!" Moonstone, still mostly insensate, peered dizzily into the shadows. "Wha--? Hate?" She pulled herself unsteadily to her feet. Ms. Marvel pointed. "THERE!" And from the shadows, a figure emerged. He was clad head to toe in dark robes, and a black, pointed hood covered his head, revealing only glinting, darting eyes. "The Hate Monger!" Carol grimaced in revulsion. "Ahh ahh-- not quite," the dark figure replied. "I am called… XENOCIDE!" He gestured at the two women. "I bring you the gift of xenophobia! Fear the different, the unknown. Destroy it!" The power seized Ms. Marvel's and Moonstone's minds again, and they glared at one another, murderous thoughts dancing in their minds. But Carol shook her head, hard, and turned back to Xenocide. "NO! You won't do this to me again!" Before the dark-robed figure could react, Ms. Marvel leapt towards him, punching him in the jaw. He stumbled back, the hood falling from his head. "No." Ms. Marvel stared at his face, unbelieving. "No way." Karla regained enough control over herself to look as well. She gasped. "It can't be!" The face of Adolph Hitler glared back at them. Ms. Marvel shook her head. "No…" And the man with Hitler's face screamed one word, the sound echoing in Carol's and Karla's heads: "KILLLLLL!!!!!!!" ***** ***** ***** NEXT ISSUE: CAP! HITLER!? And the FINAL SHOWDOWN-- Ms. Marvel vs Moonstone!

Back to Fan Page Central