Issue #2: The Silver Hair


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As Asano's power raced through him he felt the insane power of it and was afraid. The pain… the color and taste of it was very dominant. But then the pain turned into a numbness, pain and numbness together. A buzzing, shaking, humming of power inside his skin. The aura of blue white energy radiated around Asano like a storm.

Asano still understood little about his curse and gift of a power. It burned inside him and caused him pain during and after his use of it. Its power was like an insane stimulant. It made his body stronger and faster. Made his senses and perceptive computation ability quicker and brighter. Sometimes even that was a double edged sword. He had to fight against it most times, like fighting against the tide of water at the beach. It could overcome him he feared; and he might be lost in the pull of it. About all he did understand of his power was that he knew he could summon it with his anger. Another danger as it took a dark, hard anger to summon it, a place that Asano did not like to go. The past.

But he had to now face that place. Lives were at stake. While Asano did not care for most humans or their society in general, he felt that life itself was something different. No one has the right, he thought…with some anger.

From where he stood behind the mailbox, he could see the mutant with silverhair barking orders. Across the street more police had arrived, two cars. The mutants had taken cover behind the overturned Bank Vehicle. Which stood perched in front of a small two story building with a large glass storefront window. Though now the glass was scattered in all directions on the street. As Asano watched an arch of black lightning struck and officer. The officer flew back 20 feet, his combat shotgun falling to the ground like a child's toy before such power.

It was going to get worse, Asano grimaced inside. The silverhair hadn't killed anyone yet, but with his wild enhanced senses Asano could tell that silverhair was having a hard time holding back. His face had that crazed light of one who enjoyed the wild abandon of the sadist. Asano knew because of his own past… of himself and of people he had known and… dealt with. If things escalated here, death would surely be on the heels of such violence. Just then another cop car stopped by on Asano's side of the street

A bullet wizzed by the silverhaired mutants head. The bullet lit off a spark of dark energy as it passed his black lightning aura. "You PEASANTS!" he said in that haughty speech of his. "I am losing my patience."

Silverhair walked towards the officers cowering behind their cars, in full disregard of the danger presented by their weapons. His face seemed to be contorted by wild glee and anger. A flash of energy blinded Asano's enhanced vision; there was a storm of black lightning across the street. Arcs of it flew in every direction. In the center of that storm was the silverhaired mutant. When the storm passed there was nothing awake in a ten meter radius of the mutant. All the officers were down, their cars scorched black where the dark energy had hit them.

"Damn it Charlain! You could have hurt us too," the hispanic woman yelled at the silverhair. Charlain is mister silverhair. Who was now busy now inspecting his handiwork while the other mutants were getting the rest of the money. The hispanic mutant was busy talking "at" him, while the big red one was standing around nervous and docile. Charlain lifted up one police officer and used his lighting to fling the man across the pavement.

"Charlain you are getting out of control," said one of the mutants, fear in her voice. Her tone more reminding than, scolding.

"Oh shut it you peon." Charlain said as he smirked at the hispanic mutant. "I know what I'm……."

The silver haired man didn't get to finish his sentence as Asano's struck lightning fast. In one great leap Asano flew across the street, trailing his blue white aura behind him like a comet trail. Asano's blue/white aura was flashing wildly. Asano's blow struck the Silverhaired mutant squarely in the face. The blow throwing him back into a building wall.

Asano was staggering though, to the outside observer it would seem he had to fight to keep under control. His aura flashed a bit then subsided some. Too much I don't want to kill him, Asano thought with some effort. But it was hard to control his increased strength, it required quite a bit of focus from his mind to handle it. For every time he drew upon his power the level of its enhancements varied wildly. It took time to realize how much to hold back or to push himself. He didn't really have that much control.

"Who the Hell is this joker," yelled the big red mutant, looking wide eyed at the silver haired mutant on the ground. Then he seemed to remember to get angry at the situation. He grabbed a nearby light post. His huge muscles bulged and rippled as he pulled it up out of the street. The red mutant used it as a club swinging it at Asano with inhuman speed. It struck the spot where Asano was standing leaving a cloud of blue white fire. "I got him in one blow!"

"No fool look up," the Hispanic mutant said pointing.

The big red mutants swing was fast but Asano was faster in his powered-up mode. He was able to see the superfast swing at something close to normal speed relative, as his enhanced body included enhanced senses and reaction times. The pole had come and Asano jumped high over their heads. Too high, with some effort Asano righted himself in the air and prepared his attack. His blue/white aura flared as he struck down at the red mutant. He missed, his punch striking the pavement with such power that it cracked and caved in, leaving Asano in a small crater. Recovering he looked up, only to see a huge fist coming towards him. Asano was thrown across the street from the force of the blow, leaving a small crater in a brick wall. His aura fluttered as if a candle in flame. Asano struggled to his feet. "This isn't as heroic I pictured it," he laughed to himself aching. Am I already running out of power?

A surge of fear passed through Asano, if he couldn't maintain his power and it left him he might be as good as dead. The "Pain" was creeping through his power buzz now. That was not a good sign.

His aura flared again and the pain subsided again beneath the buzz of his aura power. Across the street the rest of the mutants left as he recovered himself. But Big Red and Silverhair still lingered. "Just Great," he sighed.

Big Red picked up a chunk of the broken sidewalk and flung it at Asano. Asano yelled, and dived into the deeps of his rage and pain, flaring his aura greatly; he batted the concrete aside breaking it in two. He moved towards the big mutant while dodging arcs of energy from Silverhair. Asano saw an opening and dropkicked the red mutant with such power that he flew back into a small corner store doing immense damage to the building. Asano flinched, he hadn't intended to hit so hard; he was having trouble maintaining control now. The power in him got increasingly harder to control as time went by, like his focus was being burned out slowly as the power flow itself increased and decreased wildly.

In the background he heard police sirens approaching.

"I see that I am dealing with one on level with myself," the Silverhaired man said. "Yours is an immense strength, I've never seen Oni hit so hard. But do not consider me as lower tiered as my companions." Charlain said his eyes shining like light blue diamonds. "Indeed your energy of light seems a perfect counter part to my own power. Let me introduce you to it." Charlain flung his hands up, his dark energy crackling around him. The black lightning struck Asano fully, his blue aura being smothered by the darkness. It forced Asano down on his knees almost overwhelming him. Enduring the pain he forced his way to Silver hair, pain was something he was familiar with, he fed on it. The man's eyes were wide with shock as Asano fought through the dark lightning and jumped through the storm delivering a palm strike to his chest. Silver hair flew back into the street. Asano was smoking from the black lightning and his blue white was fading and flickering. He was about to follow up but was struck from behind; dazed Asano fell to the ground, looking up in time to see the mutants flee. A crumpled mailbox lay over his back.

Alone, weak, and tired Asano finally had to power down but immediately regretted it. He had used too much power. As the energy rushed to leave his body he spasmed, the damage registering on his now normal body. The pain he now felt was intense white hot shards coursing through his entire body. He fell to the ground using one free hand to keep the blood from gushing out of his mouth. The spasms and pain were sending him to an alternate dimension of existence, he could not think, his brain could no longer handle it. There on the street by the armored van he passed out, just as multiple police cars arrived on the scene.

--

It was getting on in the night as the sun had finally set. The fleet of police lights drew more and more attention to the terrible events that happened here. Large crowds had gathered to inquire what happened, regular officers where trying to keep everything under control. After what had happened a small amount of terror and misunderstanding had began to build. The ingredients to a riot…or perhaps even mob justice. CSI had begun to scour the scene to gather as much info as possible. Detectives had begun to round up and begin questioning any witnesses to the crime. And Emergency Medical personnel had arrived to see to the wounded, one wounded person was particularly important to the police officials at the scene. But surprisingly there were no dead.

"So Sgt. what can you tell me about what happened here so far? Why the hell do my streets look like a war zone." Said Lt. Woodend. He was the typical hardened old police officer.

"What you see here is another act of terrorism by Mutie filth Lt!" spat Sgt. Rosenthal. "I'm telling yah they're a menace. No regard or respect for the law, no restraint. And we can't arrest 'em with those heretical powers. My boys are having runs with these freaks and I'm telling yah Lt…." He paused calming down from his rant. "What we have here is a robbery of an armored vehicle headed for 2nd Regional Bank on Hammon Street. By our witnesses' accounts, a gang of freaks attacked and overturned the vehicle. Then using their freak powers forced entry into the vehicle. "

"Sgt. that still doesn't explain this destruction."

"Sir we have reason to believe that the damn freaks got into some sort of scuffle. Which ended up damaging or destroying multiple buildings and this street here. About what I'd expect from such degenerates. Oh…We also have other damage the street over."

"And we have one of these…things in custody?"

"Yes sir. A young Black male. But don't let his appearance fool you, he's a freak; we got multiple witnesses pointing him as the main one fighting the others," Rosenthal said, pointing to the unconscious Asano with barely veiled disgust. "He's in terrible shape though, his mutie buddies must have left him to take the fall. We have him sedated and in stable condition and will take him down to the station for questioning. I'll brief you on the rest later, I need to see to some things." The wild look in his eyes incidentally did not phase Woodend.

"Get to it then Sgt," said Lt. Woodend, he waved over another officer. A young woman in plain clothes approached. "Detective Masa, I have multiple detectives working this, I've decided to include you as well. You'll also be responsible for finding the mutants cohorts. I hear you've had experience dealing with these so-called freaks. They will have to pay dearly." He observed her slight flinch at the sound of his comment, which caused him to frown. "A problem Detective?," he growled.

"Nothing…..Its nothing sir," She said softly. " I can handle it… I might have a few leads already."

"Good," said Woodend as he was walking off. Looking over his shoulder he added. "You've seen the damage these things can do Masa. Try not to get yourself killed. And try not to get yourself killed because of some sort of PC sympathy." And with that he left to supervise the rest of the police in the area.

"Just great," Masa sighed as she walked off towards her car. She already knew where to go to find some info but she didn't look forward to it.

She looked over at the unconscious young mutant as the officers lifted him haphazardly out of a pool of blood. Her heart didn't seem to like the fact that he was being loaded into the back of a police wagon and not an ambulance.

Masa had been one of the first responders to arrive after the action had died down. It wasn't much she could have done for the boy so she had began to work over the gathered gawkers and possible witnesses. From the picture she had pieced together she didn't seem to think what went down here was what the other officers on the scene thought. But Rosenthal would hear none of that. In the end there wasn't much she could do now. But the look on Officer Rosenthal's face kept appearing in the back of her mind, unsettling her. And with the tensions in the city the way they were…. She felt a need to look out for the boy.

But then Masa slapped herself. This kid was a potential suspect. And probably a mutant with powers beyond normal. She was a police officer. And he was a potential subject she kept telling herself. She had to keep telling herself.

She got into her vehicle and headed down to Mutant town, thinking of how to get in contact with Fritz or maybe Walton. How she would deal with them, appease them, but her thoughts kept going back to that horribly injured young mutant. And in the hands of an officer like Jim Rosenthal.

--

Down in the labyrinth of sewers, the capillaries that made up the underground of New York City, Charlain fumed.

His body ached from the damage he received during the heist. His body was damaged, chest sore, arm flaring in pain perhaps even broken. These things were incidental though. .

Even in his considerable pain Charlain was angrier at something else. Or more someone else. He had been touched, sullied by that meddling mutant How DARE he place his hands on me!! Charlain raged in his mind. That degenerate meddling uncouth peasant! Everything was going according to plan, those mundane officers were down, and the monetary gains to his crew were insight. Sure he and Oni had began to get a tad out of hand but…. Things were going…

Despite his injuries Charlain punched the wall. "That Perennial Bastard!" he yelled.

"Charlain! Your arm," said Rosia. A short woman of hispanic heritage. Her expression mingled somewhere between concern and fear of him. She knew Charlain was descending into one of his dark moods. Which from experience were both dangerous and sometimes quite painful.

"I am quite fine you foolish woman," said Charlain, his eyes crackling with dark energy and darker things. She sidled over towards Oni leaving him alone to his pain and anger. Unbeknown to them, Charlain relished that pain; it was a physical manifestation of his internal feelings. Something that he was not truly able to deal with. Not that I would let these charlatans ever know that.

To someone of Charlain's compulsions image was of paramount importantance. Is it not what his father always told him? And Charlain's father always made sure his lessons were never forgotten. To let these underlings see him weakened by his battle that would not do. He would never allow that. Through force of will he was holding himself to the full height of his noble bearing.

Bearing…

To think what his parents and associates would think of him if they could see him now. Here he was a member of the noble house Temuele… And I am in a Fething sewer! This had better be worth it…I am about tired of leading that Bastard Greywolf errand teams.

Charlain had come a long way in his miniscule eighteen years. Half a world away from his birth home of stature to… This filth.

Charlain currently resided as part of a tribe of mutants living amongst the streets. It had only been a few months but Charlain had already ingratiated himself in their little tribe and had even rose to what some considered "The Second," behind the leader of the pack. Which, oddly enough to be annoying, was a feral powered mutant called Greywolf. Charlain was not surprised by his rise though, for someone of his obviously superior stature and abilities there could be no other outcome.

He looked at the others, many of the mutants around him were barely functional, no more than merely above the primitive human animals they now hided from. These, in common mutant slang, were known as groggies, the barely awakened. Some in the tribe, like Rosia, were known as Betas, mutants with particularly helpful or harmful abilities. Though Rosia's own gift was also a heavy burden. Her power though great, the ability to "melt" inorganic and organic material with the touch of her hands, also trapped her in a prison. She couldn't even touch herself for short periods of time before her hands started to melt her own flesh. Let alone anything else around her.

Now Charlain, and other mutants like him, were known of as Alphas. More commonly taken from the term alpha dog than the official Alpha classification used by the government. Just as betas were known more as being pre-release versions of final products out on the market. Alpha mutants were mutants whose powers were more than helpful, powerful beings far above human cattle.

It had not taken Greywolf long to become aware of the fact that Charlain was particularly potent. And so Charlain usually led these field teams on Greywolf's stranger and stranger errands, which Charlain had become aware were for an entity above even Greywolf. Though Greywolf tried to conceal it, Charlain was sure that Greywolf knew that Charlain knew about his secret liaisons.

It also hadn't taken much time for Charlian to begin extending his tendrils of power through the tribe trying to assert his own control over them. But like any pack or tribe there must be an Alpha Dog, and Greywolf had taught Charlain a lot about his place. Or so Greywolf thinks… Charlain was hoping to learn enough and gain enough power for a requiem with Greywolf. It was in his nature to be contrary and he subconsciously always sought out someone to set himself against. In the distant past that was his father which had not always turned out well. There had been others though… But for now he had to bide his time, especially as he had not been able to find out about Greywolf's secret contact.

The group of mutants wandered down seemingly random paths in the sewers. A mutant named Giblet, was leading the way. He seemed to know exactly where he was going. And as Charlain though of it, the mutant did seem to be at most relaxed down here in the sewer arterials that ran under New York City. Giblets skin was sensitive and it did seem to require more moisture than most. It was cool and damp down in the undercity, and dark too, as his eyes were particularly sensitive as well. Originally Charlain had not known why the young mutant wore shades all the time, at first he thought Giblet a fool fop until it was explained to him. Of all the mutants Giblet was particularly close to being Charlain's main associate. Thought that could have been a factor of Charlain knowing Giblet recognized his dominance.

Charlain hopped a pipeline and almost fell. He used his hand to arrest his fall into the wall. The wrong arm. And pain flared in his vision. He grabbed that pain and used it to keep him warm through his trip under the city.

--

When they returned to their "headquarters", an abandoned factory somewhere on the waterfront district, Charlain made a large pretense of being pissed off at the whole day's affairs loudly. Using the facade to go to his quarters and rest and heal his injuries. He did notice Rosia trying to be unobtrusive as she looked after him, that odd look of fear of him and worry in her eyes that Charlain found particularly arousing.

He lay in his bed with quite a bit off effort. Knowing that he would pay in the coming days for allowing his body to be mistreated in such a way. It would be quite a few tough weeks, especially as he would be fighting not to let his injuries show. He hadn't needed to do that for Greywolf's sake, Greywolf would see through the act, and Greywolf had no need to act on it as he thought Charlain particularly cowed. The pretense of invincibility and image was usually only for those he considered his lesser.

He laid there for a while trying to sleep, but it wouldn't come, despite his tiredness. He lay there feeling his fatigue and his pain.

But thoughts of pain turned his thoughts to the actions of the day that gave him that pain, and one particularly meddlesome mutant. Charlain readied himself to feel that red rage of anger and hatred. But surprisingly it did not come as he had been expecting. And yes it was there but tempered somehow. Now when he thought of the mutant he had a longing as a sublayer to the rage.

The mutant was a strong foe, taking on Charlain and his crew. In Charlain swirled a host of confusing emotions, unsettling and frustrating him as Charlain was not one easily able to deal with such feelings of nebulousness.

The slight against him would definitely have to be avenged. And with all the deep cruelty of Charlain and his ancestral memories. It was the Temuere way. But there were other emotions involved as well. The mutant had even weathered his abilities in that battle. So that mutant was obviously an alpha too. That ignited another emotion in and of itself. A worthy opponent to set himself against.

Yes. Charlain thought he would have to find that interfering mutant. But then what….


Next Issue! : The Wind Surfer and the Model.


-Ok sorry about the wait. I had some things at work taking up my time. I think I will focus on a few more chapters but alas I will need to divert some time to my other fiction projects. Hmmm, if only I focused on maybe 2 or 3 projects I could make faster progress. But I have like seven other fics to work on. My mind wants to see all of them to paper. Shame too it is fun to write….

-Well looking back on it, I talked a lot of pain in this chapter. It is one of my underlaying issues that I like to write about. Mental and Physical. More of a personal experience thing. I guess I was really feeling it at the time as it sort of wormed its way into the work quite heavily. More on that latter though.