Greetings! I am evolution-500 and my characters are Lupo and Malecoda. I'll be

helping out with this story as much as I can, provided that I don't have a

busy schedule. If you have any questions or concerns about this chapter, feel

free to leave a comment.


CHAPTER 5: WOLF IN SMART CLOTHING!

"REPORTING TO YOU LIVE! AND! WASTEEEED!" the maniac shouted, holding his beer can in the air before resuming in a normal voice, "Welcome to another beautiful morning here in Little Bohemia, Metropolis, folks! Another day, another mild display of gratuitous violence!"

"Wow, there's a real turn out today, Malecoda! Look at all these characters gathered here! Can they take on the powerhouse that is Bizarro?!"

"It is very exciting and-"

He paused as bones cracked loudly, causing both him and his companion to cringe, "OHHHHH HO HO HO! THAT had to hurt!"

Seated comfortably on a pair of lawn chairs in front of a small craggy apartment complex near the General Hospital, two figures watched the battle with amusement, each with a beer in hand. Two of the oddest, and arguably most lethal, of friends and enemies, Malecoda and Lupo were the likes of which Metropolis had never seen; their appearances and personalities were as contradictory as night and day. Pausing in his sip, the former cast a glance down to his own person, repulsed by what he saw. With his small dirty and wrinkled black leather jacket, clothes and boots hanging off of his frightening 300-centimeter skeletal frame, he looked like something that hell had chewed up and crapped out, so at odds with how he looked when he had been human.

When I had been human...

Unconsciously reaching up to his face, his hand stopped as it pressed longingly onto the black motorcyclist's helmet, his fingers lingering on its surface. When he was a youth, he was gorgeous. Girls had flocked to him by the droves, and with his charms, he had put those good looks to work.

'A lot of hearts were broken,' Malecoda thought wistfully. Now, things have changed. Encasing his entire head, with a visor completely hiding his features, it also sported a series of hoses from underneath, leading to a large canister strapped to his back. The last person to have seen his face had a look of absolute terror before he had been killed to satisfy the excruciating pain in his belly.

"What are you doing?" a voice demanded.

Pulling his hand back, Malecoda shook his head, along with all those unpleasant memories.

"It's nothing, just remembering the old days." he answered before slipping the straw underneath his visor.

His companion stared hard at him, turning away only moments later to seemingly focus on the battle before them. Without moving his head, Malecoda studied the young man sitting next to him through his visor with resentment.

A teenager no older than eighteen and 185 centimeters in height, he was no less an oddity, though one would have to be scrupulous in order to detect the cheat. Wearing an expensive red dress suit, black formal shirt and shoes of immaculate condition, they hugged his slender and smoothly muscled form. His face, a feature that Malecoda himself was incredibly envious of, was handsome with a striking sharpness. From its raised cheekbones, chiseled jaw, pronounced chin and sharp yet straight nose, along with the thick neatly trimmed black mane of hair with slight sideburns close to each ear, he looked like a wolf that had been forcefully yet carefully fitted into human skin. With the brim of his red fedora keeping his features shadowed, at a glance he would have been able to pass off as normal, an achievement that made Malecoda bitter each time he thought about it. What made his features undeniably inhuman, though, was the ghostly white skin with intricate black axe head-like markings surrounding brilliantly red eyes. Devoid of either pupils or whites, they shone like rubies.

Together, they must come across as jarringly weird. Indeed, even their friendship, or utter rivalry depending on the time of day one would ask them, was something of a mismatch in the cosmos.

On most days, he and his companion wanted nothing to do with each other due to how much they loathed one another. Today, though, was a slight exception. This was one of those days where they would simply say "hey, what the hell?", pop open an 8 pack and just amuse themselves with the stupidity that would occur around them.

Currently, they were playing the role of announcers, watching and cheering as Bizarro kicked the shit out of a collection of assorted costumed characters.

Malecoda tsked with distaste as he studied each individual. From their behaviors, movements, techniques and coordination, or lack thereof, they fell into one of three categories: rookies, amateurs, and wannabe heroes.

Rookies were heroes that were officially recognized as being apart of the Justice League, but their inexperience, lack of discipline and finesse would often get them into trouble.

Amateurs referred to some of the myriad rejects and other vigilantes that wanted no part of the League, preferring to take on crime on their own terms. For the most part, they were an incompetent sort, mostly of the human and psychotic variety with questionable methods, like leaving a bag of burning dog crap at the foot of a gangster's home.

And finally, there were the wannabes, a collection of super-powered twits that got dressed up to fight crime not so much out of any sense of moral obligation, but because they were narcissist bastards hoping to get the League's attention and membership.

'Like me.' the thought came with displeasure.

As more costumes joined, Malecoda started to vocalize cartoonish sound effects whenever one of them was hit by the demented Superman clone; one hero, a big dude who looked like he was made from granite, was given an uppercut. Malecoda let out a long whistle as he sailed far into the distance, both he and Lupo following after his diminishing form with their gazes.

"Damn! I think he just left orbit!" he laughed.

Lupo laughed with him, shaking his head, "This is just too sad to watch."

"Whatever happened to the good ole days when there were actual heroes?" the helmeted figure lamented.

"Probably a bad crop this year." came the reply.

"YOU ASSES COULD HELP US!" a small figure in a green cape, some Robin rip-off, shouted in annoyance, giving them a fixed glare.

Turning to each other to exchange looks, with Lupo raising an eyebrow, they looked back at the figure.

"Nah!" they said at the same time.

Together, they sat and guzzled down can after can. Ducking down as one poor bastard flew into Mrs. Cropley's window, Malecoda turned to his companion. Whether it was the booze speaking, or maybe some scintilla of decency existed within his soul, he started to feel a little uneasy.

"Do you think we should?" he asked.

Lupo shrugged.

"Do what you wish." he replied.

"What about you?"

"I prefer not to waste my talents on morons."

"But you took my case." Malecoda pointed out.

A wry and predatory smile edged itself along his mouth, making him even more lupine in appearance.

"Well, if the price is right, I make exceptions." Lupo answered.

The helmeted man scoffed.

"It's just like you to choose money over those who are helpless." he retorted.

Lupo raised a brow up, dropping the smile.

"'Helpless?' Them? You must have a skewed definition. Haven't you heard the news about the Exobytes?"

"I have, 'Po, but -"

"Then you know that these "helpless" noobs have the strength and powers of every known hero and villain out there."

"This isn't just about money, is it?" Malecoda pressed. "You're studying them, looking for weaknesses in case they decided to go rogue."

"Wouldn't you?" Lupo asked.

"But that's what the League is for."

"And someone has to watch the watchmen." Lupo replied, peering around curiously, "Speaking of which, where are the cops? Why aren't they getting in on this? You would think with this much chaos being spread there would be a blue uniform around."

Malecoda shrugged.

"Coffee break? Maybe they're blocking this area off for the civilians." he suggested before piping up excitedly, "Oh! Look at this! We have newcomers! I think they're villains!"

"Are they?"

He gave a shrug. "Hard to tell these days."

A swarm of costumes came flying toward Bizarro, throwing everything at him, from fireballs and laser beams to missiles, bullets and... bags of flaming dog crap?

The weirdest costume had to be the one that was all sparkly. Malecoda blinked at the sight.

"Hey Lupo, do you see this guy?" he asked.

"Which one?"

"The figure skater/disco ball dude that's so friggin' shiny?"

"Yeah... "

"Who is he?"

Lupo shrugged. "'Sparkle Pants'?"

"Is it really?" the helmeted figure pressed.

"Seriously, with that outfit, what the hell would he be calling himself anyway? Scintillating Fashion Sense?"

Malecoda opened his mouth to respond when "Sparkle Pants" rushed Bizarro head on, slamming his fist into the giant's face before rearing himself back to release a mighty puff of air... in a pink heart shape.

"... Who is this guy?!"

Lupo looked over to one of the closer costumes. "Hey! Hey you!" he called out.

The costume, a diminutive rookie armed with a bow and arrow, dressed in leaves with a green helmet devoid of any features concealing his entire head, pointed to himself questioningly.

"Yeah you, Orchard Man! Come here!"

Slowly approaching the seated figures, he looked at them suspiciously.

"Yes?"

"What's your name?"

"Green Plant, sir."

"Do you know who-" Lupo pointed to the sparkly figure before pausing. "'GREEN PLANT'?!"

The green helmet nodded slowly.

Looking to Malecoda, the two suddenly burst out into a fit of laughter.

"Do you see this?" the figure in red pointed, "THIS is the WORST superhero of all time!"

"Hey!" The rookie snapped, placing his hands on his hips, completely unimpressed by the insult.

"Word of advice, dude - when it comes to code-names, pick something that will inspire fear in your enemies."

"There's nothing wrong with it!"

"I beg to differ."

"It was either that or Yellow Dandelion!"

The two-seated figures stared at him.

"Riiiiight."

'Green Plant' huffed with annoyance.

"Whatever! I don't need your approval! I'm a member of the Justice League! Besides, I don't see you two doing anything! Why aren't you even fighting this guy?!"

Lupo sighed with disappointment.

"I had wanted to, but that was before I realized that Bizarro is nothing more than a child. As a rule, I prefer not to fight the mentally stagnant."

"Me, I'm just here because there was nothing else on TV!" the black helmeted figure happily added.

'Green Plant' stared at him. It was hard to tell what his facial expression was, but it was probably formed into a scowl.

"What do you two want?" he demanded impatiently

"Information." Lupo replied, pointing to 'Sparkly Pants,' "Any idea who this guy is? Don't tell me he's part of the League."

The green figure shook his head.

"No clue. I've never seen him before."

Lupo shrugged.

"Oh well." he said before raising up a can in offering. "Want a cold one?"

'Green Plant' hesitated.

"I can't! I... I shouldn't! I'm on duty!" he squawked.

"Oh come on! Take a load off! Just grab a seat! Join the dark side!"

"You know you want to! We've got peanuts!"

For a moment, it looked as if he was ready to give in when a voice called out, "Don' gehve in, boy!"

Turning to the source, the trio caught sight of a large heavy-set man with red hair stomping over to their position. Dressed in an orange leotard with a black cape, the letters "HC" were stenciled in black across the chest. The man's features were overly thick and squarish, making him look more like a steroid-infused parody of the Man of Steel.

"Haow dah yah trah to cowupt duh yung an' inissint'!?" he said in an obnoxiously imperious tone. Lupo blinked.

"Technically speaking I'm under aged, but you do have a point. How careless of me to not ask." he said thoughtfully. "How old are you?"

"... Twenty-four."

"Well, then, my offer stands!"

"Don' even thank of it, boy!" 'Green Plant' flinched at the giant's tone.

"No need to give him the attitude." the man in red replied as he held the can out for the latter. "Besides, I was gonna offer you a drink as well."

The offer was smacked violently out from his hand, slamming it hard into the side of a fence.

"Yah dah to twy cowupt mah?!" the man in orange roared.

Malecoda blinked.

"He was only offering you a drink." he replied.

"An' wot's en et?! Filt' wit' poisin', nah dout!" the big man said haughtily.

The helmeted man shook his head.

"Just beer." he said, trying to figure if the guy spoke with an accent or a lisp.

"Who are you?" his companion asked, not impressed.

The big man puffed his chest out as he began his introduction.

"Ah em juthtith! Ah em da laow! Ah em HAD COAH!" he said boastfully.

The trio turned to look at each other, puzzled by the garbled response.

"Did you understand any of that?" Malecoda asked the other two men.

"No... " Green Plant said slowly.

"I speak eight languages, Mal, and I didn't even get what he said." Lupo replied.

The helmeted figure looked back to the big man.

"Sorry, can you repeat?"

"Ah em Had Coah, an' ah em da laow!"

""... 'You have a hot coal and you're low'?" Lupo interpreted.

"AH EM HAD COAH AN' AH EM DA LAOW!"

"'Lao'? You're Chinese?" the seated figure in red said with surprise.

"AH AIN'T A CHINK, YA DUM BATHTURD!"

Malecoda blinked underneath his helmet. Wow, what a racist bugger. Beside him, Lupo smirked.

"Wow! 'Bathturd'! I gotta admit, I was called a lot of things, but this is a first." he laughed.

The big man just stared at him angrily. He looked like he was ready to smash anyone within close proximity, causing 'Green Plant' to back warily away.

"AH! EM! HAD COAH! AN' AH! EM! DA LAOW!"

Malecoda saw impatience etch itself onto Lupo's face. The teenager was usually calm and collected, but listening to this obnoxious jerk seemed to be wearing on his nerves, a feat that only Malecoda himself was capable of.

"What do you want, 'Had Cod' or whatever your name is?" he asked.

"Yah'we unda awetht!"

"I think I might've understood that one, 'Po."

"Same here." he replied as he looked back to the giant. "For what?"

The jerk opened his mouth, his features scrunching up. Despite his telepathic abilities, Malecoda didn't have to read his mind in order to tell that this guy was not versed in law. Finally settling on something, the big man roared loudly, "FAWR DITHWEPTIN' MAH ATHOWITATH!"

Lupo smirked.

"See this, Mal? Proof of reincarnation! Stalin has returned!"

"WADDYASAY?!"

"Whoa! Easy, dude." the helmeted figure said in a placating manner. "Would it help if I massaged your nipples?"

Four fun things happened in sequential order. The first were the perplexed looks on the faces of all within hearing distance. The second was the response from the big man's fist (WHAM!). The third was the response from his brain (WHAT WAS THAT?!), while the fourth response came from the side of his head (OWWWIEEEE!).

'Sweet death here I come!' Malecoda thought as he and Lupo were backhanded from their seats, sending them flying into the side of the building.

...

Lupo groaned as he rolled over onto his back. "'Would it help if I massaged your nipples'?!" he said to the helmeted moron with disbelief.

Malecoda shrugged.

"It just suddenly slipped!"

Pushing himself off the ground, the red-suited teen dusted himself off and reached for his fedora.

"Whoever that faggot is, I'm gonna-"

"Hard Core, what are you doing?!" a female voice said in a reprimanding tone.

Looking up, the teen's brain stopped as he saw a gorgeous red-headed hottie with tanned skin. In her late teens to early twenties, she wore a pair of blue bikini bottoms and a see through shirt that left little to the imagination. From the accent, the woman came from the south, Georgia most likely.

"Whoa." Malecoda breathed. "You see this?"

"Yeah."

"How the hell hasn't she been arrested yet?"

A smirk etched itself onto Lupo's face.

"I don't know, Mal, but thank god for small miracles." he replied.

Walking toward her, he watched as she's joined by another tanned figure, a panther chick with ears at the top of her head dressed in black skimpy clothing consisting of a small shirt and shorts that seemed way too tight. Studying each figure as they gave the giant the scolding of his life, Lupo took the time to inhale their scents as a precaution. After all, one could never be too careful. While the big man smelled of sweat and ham, the woman, in contrast had more of a vanilla flavor, albeit from a cheaper brand of perfume. The panther chick, though, smelled considerably more pleasing, a rich jasmine with a hint of peaches, possible Cashmere. Looking at her with interest, he studied every curve to his delight, only to scowl at the discovery of a wedding band on her finger.

"Shit." he muttered.

...

Candice was really unimpressed at the moment. Ever since he had gotten those powers, her brother just had to throw his weight around. It wasn't enough that he decided to dress up in a stupid costume and to disguise his voice in such a way that he sounded absolutely retarded, but ever since his new-found powers, he was nothing but a pain in the ass. She had to issue too many apologies to too many people for him, and she couldn't stand it.

"Shit."

Upon hearing that, she and Catlady broke their gazes away from "Hard Core" to see a young man dressed in red, his features partially hidden by a red fedora.

"Buongiorno." He greeted.

God don't let this be another reporter, or worse a potential litigant.

Hesitating, she waved back in greeting. "Hi. He hasn't been bothering you, has he?" she asked with concern.

"He smacked me into a wall." he said dryly.

Her eyes widened. Goddamn it.

"Oh no! I am so sorry about that! He has a tendency of getting into trouble." she said.

"I know the feeling." he replied, looking over to a helmeted man wearing incredibly filthy clothes as he sat himself back into his chair and guzzled down his beer through a straw.

Turning back to face her, he took off his fedora and held it to his chest as he gave a courteous bow.

"Name's Lupo."

Watching as he raised himself up, Candice stared at him. Though he had finely handsome features in a dark and wolfish sort of way, the alabaster skin, black hair and markings were the first off-putting details that made her hesitate. The most off-putting aspects, though, that made her especially nervous were his eyes; cold, calculating blood-colored orbs that stared with an unusual intensity for one so young, taking in every single detail of both her person and the environment around them.

'Like eyes of a corpse.' she thought nervously before she found the ability to speak, "I'm Stripper."

Raising a hairless brow, the man gave her a curious look.

She frowned. Oh God, not again.

"That's not my occupation!" she explained. "It's my name. Candice Stripper."

"Ah."

Gesturing to her companions, she continued, "This is Catlady."

The panther woman grunted in acknowledgement.

"And I believe you met my brother Hard Core." she said as the big man glared at him hatefully.

"Ahhh, so that's what you're name was." Lupo said thoughtfully.

"Aren't you going to introduce us to your friend?" Candice queried, pointing to the helmeted figure chugging beer after beer in his seat. He looked painfully skinny, like those starving African children she would see in those telemarketed charities.

"He's not a friend." he said to her surprise.

"... Lover?"

"Hell no!" He spat with disgust.

"... Then what is he?"

"A client... although he has now elevated himself to the status of hemorrhoid." he muttered the last part under his breath. "Due to his... condition, I believe it best if you don't meet him."

Candice blinked.

"'Condition?' What's wrong with him?" she asked with concern.

"It's nothing that you should concern yourself with." he waved her off. Tilting his head to side, the red-suited figure turned to face her. "So, what brings you here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" she asked as she gestured to Bizarro, who was in the process of beating some poor bastard repeatedly over the head with another like a club, "We're here to get the bounty on him."

"I take it you're not with the Justice League, then?"

"No, but we would like to."

Lupo crossed his arms.

"So this is supposed to be your audition piece?"

Candice shook her head.

"Not really. It's mainly for business. We run a bar around here called The Blue Dolphin, but the bills are just piling up."

The man in red perked up with interest.

"'The Blue Dolphin,' you say?"

She nodded.

"Yeah, it's just a block from here, around the corner."

"Hm."

Candice nervously watched as Lupo tilted his chin down, deep in thought. She wondered what sort of gears were turning around in there as Catlady spoke up, "So, what is it that you do, Mr. Lupo?"

His lips broke into a slight smile.

"Just Lupo. I'm what you would call 'an ethical soldier of fortune.'" When he said the last part, he had this amused look, as if he had told some private joke that Candice was unaware of.

She raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"Exactly what it means."

Catlady narrowed her eyes.

"You're a mercenary?"

The man in red smirked at the word as he brushed off some unseen dust from his expensive suit. "Don't be ridiculous, mercenaries are outlawed here. No, I go where there's money, my dear. Private investigator, antiques dealer, bodyguard, fighter, if you can provide some expensive and legitimate form of legal tender, or offer items that could guarantee a profit, I can be whatever you want me to be." he said, his voice silky and seductive. Pausing thoughtfully, he added, "Provided that it's legal, of course."

"In other words you're a hustler." Candice summed up in an unimpressed tone.

He shrugged.

"We're all hustlers in a way." he replied, before narrowing his eyes at her. "Now, as a law-abiding man, I believe in the concept of making restitution. I believe some form of compensation should be in order."

The trio gawked at him.

"You have got to be joking!"

"I never joke when it comes to money."

Hard Core stepped threateningly forward.

"Ya wottin' PUNK!" he growled.

"Back off, Hard Core. Let's hear what he has to say." Candice said before turning her eyes back to him. "Be warned, though - if I don't like what comes out of your mouth, I'll let him handle you."

Lupo scoffed.

"'Handle me'? My dear, that sounds like a threat. I'm the best there is at what I do, and that's making a killing."

Though the double-meaning was obvious and he made no threatening movements, Candice felt a barely veiled aura of menace surrounding the smirking red-dressed figure, the kind of aura that would make heads turn and shudder, the sort of reaction one would find in the presence of a very dangerous animal. Looking to her companions nervously, she wasn't the only one to have noticed.

As quickly as it was suggested, it disappeared as he continued, "But enough about that. Option A, you pay me $1500."

Candice's mouth dropped.

"That's crazy!" she squawked. "Like hell I'm gonna pay that!"

"My sentiments exactly," he nodded in agreement, adding with that arrogant smirk, "which is why I suggest Option B, I take you for dinner."

"DAT'S IT! YA'HR DEAD!" Hard Core roared angrily as he prepared to strike.

"Let me finish!" Lupo said sharply, causing him to falter, to Candice's surprise.

Watching as Hard Core settled down, he turned back to face her.

"As I was saying, Option B is that I take you out for dinner. No hokey pokey, no funny business of any kind - just two people starting from scratch, taking the time to get to know one another, and maybe even enjoy each other's company. In return, I'll clear off all of your debts and offer you my services against Bizarro."

She stared with shock.

"You're serious?"

"I am."

"How do we know you'll keep your word?" Catlady asked suspiciously.

His eyes narrowed.

"My word is my bond." came the reply as he held his hand in offering. "Do we have a deal?"

Candice stared at his hand, hesitating.

'Well, at least he's not suing us,' came the thought as she grabbed his hand.

Giving a hard shake, Candice saw the corners of his mouth lift up, reforming into a sharp-toothed smirk.

"A date it is, then." he said.

He turned around and swaggered confidently over to the helmeted figure that was slumped down in his chair.

"HEY!" she heard him say sharply, giving a hard kick to his chair.

The helmeted man sputtered and snorted.

"What?! WHAT?!" he said impatiently.

"Get up, Malecoda." Lupo said with a smirk. "We got a job to do."

As she watched him help his companion up, Candice wondered if she had made some sort of terrible mistake.


SBIND: Hey guys, thanks for letting me know of the errors in the chap-I have taken your suggestions and done the updates. :)

You guys rock, just sayin'. Like always, we appreciate any and all criticism. We aim to please!