Disclaimer: They don't want to sell it, so I don't want to buy it. DC, CN, WB, and Sam Register can keep TT as long as they want.
Author's Note: Still two reviews… I'm beginning to think people don't like me. If you read, please leave something in the review box. Maybe the next reviewer can get a mention in the story… I'll figure out how later. Anyway, this chapter contains a lot of talking, which is my writing specialty. If you don't like dialogues, flame me, or something, so I at least know you read it.
Ch. 2: A Speedy InterrogationWithin the frigid confines of the Steel City Prison were countless criminals, from seedy mobsters to hulking monstrosities. Deep in its underbelly, in a sub-basement level completely isolated from the rest of the facility, was the most infamous, and dangerous, inmate. Shackled to a rotating platform suspended off of the ground, he was hardly a threat, and the massive machinery that rerouted his power supply to keep him deactivated only ensured that. More importantly, the computers constantly monitored his highly-evolved brain, preventing him from using his trademark mind-controlling abilities, making his escape impossible. Then again, the enigmatic man known only as Brother Blood had made dramatic escapes in the past.
The bed whirred as it shifted to a vertical position, turning the unconscious figure to face the cell door. The automated doors hissed open, allowing a single small form to enter. His footfalls echoed on the stone ground as he approached the sleeping cult leader, who was now about as formidable as a small toaster.
The visitor looked toward the surveillance camera on the far wall and flashed a thumbs-up. Almost immediately there was an electronic buzz, and the evil headmaster stirred ever so subtly. The buzzing increased, gradually becoming a hum. The prisoner continued to stir, then convulse. He let out a soft, but still painful, moan, which soon became a deafening shriek. His dull gray robotic coverings began to glow a dull maroon, which continued to amplify until his entire body was coursing with a blood-red light. His flesh eyelid tightened, then snapped open, viewing the world again for the first time in weeks. Brother Blood lived once more.
The H.I.V.E. leader panted heavily for a few seconds, surveying the holding area around him. He was dismayed that he was still in this accursed establishment; a man of his caliber deserved a more spacious and dignified cell, or at the very least one with a comfortable bed with linen sheets, and perhaps a private shower.
There was a sharp whistle, drawing him out of his personal thoughts. He looked down to meet his guest, a teenaged boy wearing a form-fitting scarlet jumpsuit, the insignia "S" sewn onto the left breast. On his back rested a quiver of arrows, which nicely complemented the longbow on which he was leaning. Fiery orange hair topped his head, and a thin black mask obscured his eyes, as well as his true identity. His lips were just slightly upturned, forming a cocky smile.
Brother Blood broke into a grin for the first time since his humiliating defeat. "Ah, my old student. Hello, Speedy."
"Hey, Blood," the archer responded. "Long time no see. 'Course, I'd rather have kept it that way."
"And to what do I owe the honor?" the cybernetic schoolmaster inquired smoothly, despite the obvious sarcasm.
"Well, old pal, it seems our cousins on the west side are having some troubles," Speedy replied in an equally sarcastic manner. "You know anything about their dilemma?"
"I'd love to help an old pupil, but I'm a bit tied up at the moment," Blood said with a smirk.
"Listen, Blood, cut the crap!" the young hero snapped, his entire attitude altering. "I know you know what's going on in Jump City, I know you know the people behind it, and, I don't know how, but I know you engineered it! So just give me the who, how, and why, and I'll leave you to your rotting!"
"Perhaps I would give you your answers," the mastermind snarled, "if you weren't being so blasted vague! Now, let's begin anew, shall we? If you would be so kind as to provide me with the necessary details, perhaps I could provide you with the needed who, how, and why. Agreed?"
"Alright," Speedy sighed, "I'll play along. Three hours ago the Titans West were stopping a robbery and got into a fight with the robbers."
"Hardly unusual," Blood smugly noted, much to the frustration of his interrogator.
"Hardly," growled the young Robin Hood, grinding his teeth. "The three crooks were a little strange this time…"
"How so?" the egotistical fiend asked innocently.
"Your so… eh, that is, your kind of strange," Speedy shot back, tripping up a bit in his rage.
Blood looked genuinely perplexed, offering only a blank stare in response to the Titan's question, along with a small snicker for his slipup. "I really don't know where you're going with this thing," he said after an extended pause.
"Cyborgs, you idiot! Three of them, each one just like the lovable original! And you're the prime suspect, seeing as how you're the only one besides Bumble Bee to have read his blueprints! So why don't you just give me my answers so I can go home and chill? Otherwise, it'll be a really bad day for the both of us!" By the end of his outburst, the furious archer was nearly hyperventilating, and one could almost swear he was literally spewing flamed and smoke.
That said, it was the arch-foe's turn to make his verbal attack. "Very nice theory, my boy," he purred, "but it does have a few holes in it. For example, how do you propose I masterminded the creation of three cybernetic crooks and a robbery while unconscious inside of this blasted prison cell!?" So intense was the villain's counterstrike that it blasted Speedy straight out of his yellow boots.
The boy scratched the back of his head, mentally replaying what had just occurred. "You… really don't know anything about what happened?" he asked incredulously, not prepared to trust the man who had brainwashed him and forced him to fight against his friends and fellow crime fighters.
"Nothing," was the dry response.
"Nothing? Like, at all? You know, any leads or names or whatever? Nada? Zip?"
"That is what I said," Blood groaned, tiring of the monotonous conversation with the egocentric youth.
"Well, you seem to be sincere…" Speedy pondered, stroking his chin, "…but I'd better make sure. Time to turn up the pressure a little."
The Eastern Titan abruptly jumped, hurling himself at the maniacal villain's metallic bed. His feet slammed into the polished surface with such force that it was thrown back into a horizontal position, parallel to the floor. Speedy's trained hand blurred back to the quiver, snatched one of the arrows, and set it at the ready, his powerful arm holding the bow as steady as a knocked out Cinderblock. The projectile hovered inches above the madman's half-titanium skull; only a lone lad's grip stood between him and an excruciatingly painful experience.
"This is a shock arrow," the boy said, both his voice and face stone, frozen, dead, and otherwise expressionless. Any flicker of the wisecracking kid who had entered scant minutes ago had been completely snuffed out, replaced by some sadistic beast, more coldhearted than Blood himself. "This baby'll fry up your circuits real good. I'll ask one last time: do you know what's going on in Jump City?"
"N-n-no!" the cyborg stammered, his nerves, gut, and backbone draining from his body, leaving his remaining flesh nearly free of pigment. "I swear, I don't know! You're the first person I've spoken to since I was thrown in here. Honestly!"
Speedy quirked an eyebrow, observing Blood for a moment, understandably dubious of the man's credibility. Finally, he lowered his weapon, carefully replacing the arrow. He flashed a grin at his former master, gave him a small salute, and promptly kicked the human portion of his face. He hopped down to the floor, the sound of the impact once again reverberating off of the walls. Without another word, the teen superhero exited the lonely chamber, mechanical door slamming noisily behind him, leaving the inmate engulfed in shadow, save for the red light of his own hardware, which also eventually died.
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
"…got nothing," Speedy's voice cracked over the communicator. "To be honest, he seemed even more confused than you did. Sorry."
"That's okay, man," Cyborg sighed, his downcast head nearly touching the floor. "It ain't your fault. I'll keep lookin' on my end."
"And we'll investigate here. You never know, you know?" There was a pause. "I hope you find what you're looking for, man," Cy's comrade said sincerely.
"Me too, bro. Me too." The video screen clicked off, leaving the android alone to sort out his complicated dilemma, which was steadily becoming more perplexing. If Blood didn't make those things, who did, and for what purpose? That psycho was the only one he knew to have read his blueprints, besides Bee, of course. Who else could have known how to build those mediocre windup toys? Frankly, it infuriated Cyborg to no end. With a frustrated howl, he slammed his prosthetic fist into the bulletproof window, leaving a fine pattern a cracks behind.
"I am wondering if you are truly as chilled as you say you are," came a voice, sweet as assorted candies and gentle as a kitten's purr. Cyborg turned to see the fair alien princess floating just above the Recreational Room steps.
"You mean 'cool' Star," the mechanized man corrected, "and I'm beginning to wonder about that myself. It just makes angry, knowing that someone can just make a bunch of mes and turn 'em loose."
"With much respect to you, friend Cyborg, the are not you. They are merely enhanced as you are. They are much meaner than you would ever be. Please do not 'flip up'; you have seen what it has done to Robin."
Cyborg sighed heavily, but offered her a genuine smile as his thanks. Starfire always tried to assist the other Titans in times of need or doubt, making her something of a guardian angel to the team. She was also immensely intelligent, though she often thought of things in terms of emotion rather than logic. It was also difficult to take her seriously when she didn't know Earth phrases as simple as "flip out".
As soon as the Tamaranian girl had exited the room, Cy heaved another sigh, throwing himself heavily onto the couch, lost once more in a sea of loose ends, desperately trying to match them up before they suffocated him. When one doesn't have a single clue, it proves a trying task. He hadn't felt this helpless since…
Since his father repaired him after the lab accident. The Titan's glass eye brightened, his spirit filled with renewed hope, as well as a minute sense of dread.
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
Silas Stone hunched over his cluttered desk, scrawling a formula onto a scrap of paper, mumbling strange things, brilliant things to himself, ideas that could alter the course of mankind. He paused, staring at the equation for a moment, hands trembling. He grunted in frustration, in humiliating defeat as he furiously scribbled it out, grumbling about what a fool he was, about how ludicrous his hopes and dreams were now.
When he was a respected man, an energetic young scientist straight out of college and into the field of black-hole studies, Silas Stone was a genius. But now, shunned by the scientific community, gray-haired Dr. Stone was a genius no more, just the silhouette of a great man, a rambling widower who spent his nights alone, fruitlessly attempting to find acceptance. It came as a surprise, therefore, when a shadow fell over him. He hadn't been expecting company; he never did.
His weary, gray eyes drifted up, drinking in the sight of the boy… the man… he had never truly expected to see again. It was a teenager with an athletic build, a tower of muscle. Yet it wasn't organic muscle: it was metallic, sophisticated electronics crafted by the hands of a master, of a genius. Dr. Silas Stone shed a single tear, a stinging, painful tear long overdue.
"Hey, Dad," Cyborg said, his tone burning with a deep hatred. "It's been awhile."
Author's Note: And there's the title. Despite it being mostly talking, this is my personal favorite chapter. I feel it is better written than the previous; I always was better at writing character. Still, I'll have a few more fight scenes, and they won't sidestep the action. I threw Star in there as an afterthought, just to have another character play a somewhat significant role. I hope I wrote her well enough. Speedy was there because I'm a Speedy fan boy, and I reveled in making him do soft anti-hero stuff; after all, he is the "bad boy" of the group. Anyway, please review, it would help immensely. Flame me, I don't care, just do something!
Next Time: Cyborg is desperate for help, and his father may be the only one who can provide it. But what caused Cy to despise this man so much? Mushy conversations and a possible flashback ensue! Plus, the culprit is revealed, so you won't want to miss it!