Legal information: We don't own anything, but pity me, because I'll be in basic training. T_T

A Bad Day Pt. 2

Author's note:

Shiney: Well, here we are, and I've got good and bad news. The bad news is that I've enlisted in the U.S. Air force, and will be gone for about 2-3 months. However, Tramp will be helping out, taking over, and posting a number of one-shots we've worked out in advance that have no effect on the continuity, and yet still provide some of that writing you people just lurve. So while I've got a little more than a week left, this is the last you'll here from me for a while.

The-Tramp_Truffle: Truffle here Shiney your sacrifice will not be in vain! But lets try and tone down the fan service I kinda want a story without my characters ending up whores….which they all ways do. Sad face T-T.

It had been a long couple of hours after the incident at the bank, Johnny Appleseed had gone into a depressed slump after some minor explanations to the police and various minor repairs to her systems. It had been a very hard day, and now she was heading home, ready to relax, and tell Price about how horrible her day was, and get some words of commiseration from her good friend, but before this had happened she had slummed through the alley ways of the San Francisco trying to get rid of horrible times long gone, of memories she didn't feel like thinking about. The rays of the day burning down the sky as it turned from bright to a deep red hue as she slowly entered the entrance to the apartment. Going up a flight of stairs saying "Hi" to certain neighbors and such, but mainly she just wanted to just tell Price how horrid this day had been.

As she entered the apartment, she found that Price was home when she got there, once again. This time, he was covered in several bandages across his torso, easily visible through his shirt, and his arm hung in a sling and cast. "What the FUCK happened to you this time?" She yelled, almost tossing something at him. "Fight club." He said dismissively, as if this was completely normal. Anger, frustration and a number of emotions had made themselves apparent through the ordeal and now she was about to let it out on Price. Energy and lightning crackled beneath her fingers and she looked down at the floor and it slowly died as she hiccupped a small second and turned. "I'm tired Price…I'm tired of the day I can't seem to have a normal day anymore and I need to wash my hands of some blood." She said and just turned away not wanting to have a fight with him but not wanting to deal with his secrets either.

Price sighed himself. How was he supposed to reveal to her, that he was going out, risking his life, and getting hurt just because he couldn't stand to be weaker than her? He couldn't see a good solution, but now he knew that he had to find something to get better. He had to find more strength, more power. He almost died today, and so he had to get better, but how… More than a little upset with the whole situation, he went to his computer room, and began running some search programs. It was time for medical research.

Meanwhile, in a heavily armored van with a well-hidden machine gun mounted within the hood, several people stood in the back area looking at the looted bills and bullion. "You guys know I'm not licensed to be driving, right?" Amy called from the driver's seat, which met with several long moments of silence as both Lucas and Vanna were hesitant to admit they'd been so hasty as to not think of their driver's problems when they had told her to take the wheel earlier. "Well, just remember, pedestrians are ten points each." Jack said, to which Vanna quickly responded "No, they are NOT!" Amy just sighed from the driver's seat, thinking that she was the most mature one there. "I'm not an idiot…" She muttered to herself as she went after the secret route they had taken to reach the well-protected city.

They had a secret route in, once which no one knew about, and allowed them to be one of the few groups of people to bypass most of the defenses in the continental united states, and attack nearly any city they chose. Now was the ripe time to be attacking San Francisco, so they made the most of their attacks there. The Hellraisers were a small group, but dedicated to the Last. With varying ideals and goals, they were strong, varied, and thus far, by picking their battles carefully, had received little to no competition. Potent even against superheroes, they each had to give thought as to how those rookie capes had held them off for longer than most more experienced heroes. Jack was unconcerned, happy with burning things and spending time with his friend, Lucas, and his daughter, Amy. Maybe some more opportunity to burn other heroes later... Lucas was concerned, but not overly so, it was just a hurdle to be overcome. Vanna was utterly ambivalent, a mercenary through and through. It was a game of economics, science, and shifting loyalties. But few were so kind to her as her new family… As for Amy, she stared at the cut on her hand, disconcerted. He hadn't seemed magical, obviously not strong. It had seemed a regular sword, not some mechanical marvel. How had it cut her? She had taken missles before and walked away with not so much as a scratch.

Price sat at his expensive office chair, mumbling darkly to himself as he popped his painkillers. This sucked. He had found ways to enhance his muscle tissue, but it was going to be expensive therapy. He could afford it for busting drug dealers, but no matter how you looked at it, it was a lot of money. But he had to learn to beat people with powers, even though San Francisco should have been protected from super villains, he knew he'd have to face the type again. Moreover, he had bought several books about esoteric fighting techniques, hoping to become more resilient to pain, but it was mostly religious mumbo-jumbo. But some of it looked interesting. But it was moot. No matter what resources he had, he couldn't do ANYTHING until he was healed. He looked over to where it sounded like bass music was thumping through the walls from Johnny's room. Maybe he could just spend some time with Johnny without it being ruined, but he knew that even that was high hopes…

Johnny had meandered to her end of the apartment that Price had graciously gave her when they had gotten there since it came with its own bathroom. She had to be kind of careful when taking showers which basically meant to do a little override to deactivate the more electric parts of her. She discarded the tattered jeans that were covered from dry wall particles and other such things. Her shirt came off next and soon enough she had all of her clothes off her curvaceous body and she lightly stared at her reflection. The circuitry was mainly in her biceps and triceps but it showed as it went down to her hands. Her lightly tanned skin was mostly untarnished again the circuitry ran down her legs and her feet. As she flipped off the light it went pitch dark, except her body, her hands and feet glowed like the electricity that sparked from her powers and at the small of her back glowed a small chip that glowed green around what looked like an old scar already faded to white. She sighed and tapped her fingers against her back and her neon green hands and feet dimmed to nothing more than a flicker as nothing but the sound of water dropping was heard.

After a long shower of trying to scrub away memories that haunted her she stood up letting the water droplets drip down her body between her breasts and down her toned stomach and between her thighs. She didn't feel like doing much anything but going to sleep. She sighed softly and wrapped herself in the soft towel and walked out barefoot into her room and decided she needed a nap and wake up to waffles. "That's what I need some rest and waffles in the morning…" she said and lightly opened to her room which was mainly decorated with a galleria of paraphernalia of rock bands and books covered her…well book shelf where it was almost full to bursting with books and the occasional movie. She sighed as she took a look at her hammock: She liked the floating feeling it gave her. But the main attraction to the room was her entertainment center which featured a ungodly huge sub woofer for her stereo as she lightly picked a remote and pressed a button. It started off with a great guitar solo with kick ass drum only to be ripped open by the lead guitarist and she went to her closet to grab her pajama pants and when she opened her closet shock crossed her face and then a small smile. She lightly pulled out the dress she had picked out from her shopping trip it was already hung up and she knew Price was behind it. She lightly set it back and decided tomorrow was another day…maybe she wouldn't give too much of a hard time.

What she did decide to do, was go down to the police station, and get some information on the strange assortment of villains that had attacked the city. Sure enough, at the nearest station, there were already heroes going back and forth, trying to figure out how villains had gotten past all of the carefully constructed defenses without alerting a soul, and then disappeared much the same way that they came. She found a spare terminal, and used the background chatter to look up names. Lucas D'Vampe. Age unknown, estimated upper fifties. African American, unknown origin. Wanted for Drug sales, Drug Production, Arson, Murder, Armed robbery... The list went on for a ways, and Johnny thought back to the older man she had attacked. Back in the Rogue Isles, Lucas went into their secret hideout, which from the outside was nothing more than a Podunk little cave in the wall. But his interior decorators and engineers had done more than enough. Inside, it was well lit, luxurious, and spacious in a kind of cuboid way. There were several massive rooms and halls, excavated in a grid like fashion, white stone, hardwood floors, and even a zen garden. He smiled as he reached into his coat pocket, fingers brushing his new focus for his magic as he went for his favorite cigars. He had lost his old focus, a heinous crime in the eyes of voodoo practitioners, but he had left all the tradition and religious mumbo jumbo behind. He was playing a new game now, and brought a new set of powers with him. No more was he some small time thug looking for some born-again religion. Magic was magic, and voodoo was a kind of magic he loved. But he had put together money from growing drugs, enhancing them with magic, hired minor street gangs to start him along his way, and now pulled the rag-tag group that was called the Hellraisers together with his own blood, sweat, and lots more of his enemies' blood. It was off to a rocky start, but between the main four of them now, he had no doubts they could overcome any obstacle, so long as they were careful.

Back at the police station, Johnny went to the next name. "Vanna" (Presumed name) Name unknown. Caucasian. Origin unknown. Age unknown, suspected mid thirties. Wanted for illicit sales, illegal weapons and R&D, sales, terrorist acts, armed robbery, and murder. Vanna stepped through the small archway of the cave, heading into her lab. A small fold of bills flew behind her, and the two spec-ops looking people grinned behind their night-vision gasmasks. Payment for a job well done, that was how Vanna secured her PMC dealings. That, and supporting them with highly reliable shielding technology helped a lot, too. She went into her lab, grunting sourly when Jack wished her well. She was a businesswoman and scientist. However, she had to admit, this new deal was nice, she might start to loosen up some to her new family. She stepped out of her suit coat, slipping into a voluminous lab coat and laying her modified rifle on a workbench, grabbing her tool case. Maybe it was just her age catching up to her, since she was old enough to be Lucas' grandmother, though she still looked the right age to be his daughter. She smiled a bit as she began to remove the emitter matrix from the assault rifle. Who said that horrendous accidents in a lab couldn't be a good thing? She had never felt good about working in a Nazi R&D team, but the past was the past, and considering she had aged almost two years over the last sixty, she was looking forward to a long future, and lucrative, so long as Mr. D'Vampe kept up his part of the bargain.

Johnny raised her eyebrows as she cruised to the next file. Jack Bale. Candidate for Interpol's most wanted. Age 24, Caucasian, Origin Rogue Isles. Wanted on over six hundred counts of murder, seven and forty counts of arson, destruction of government property, destruction of private property, assault, sexual harassment, cruelty to animals, impersonating a member of law enforcement, impersonating a medical professional, drunkenness in public, public nudity… Johnny felt an anime-style sweatdrop forming as she scrolled down a list that just went on and on. "What the hell is this?" She muttered to herself. The Jack in question went down to the zen garden, the demonic face mask in a big smile as usual. He turned to the fireplace that was completely empty, before bursting into huge gouts of flame. He enjoyed working with an old friend like Lucas. He never tried to get inside Jack's head, or tell him that there was anything wrong with him, or to try and 'help' him. Lucas just wanted Jack to do his job, and with plenty of opportunities to burn things, Jack was more than happy in his line of work. He looked at Lucas like a benevolent old uncle. Well, as much as anyone as disturbed as Jack Bale could.

Johnny sighed as she looked at the next file, almost sighing in relief. Amy Bale. Age 17, Caucasian, Rogue Isles. Wanted on forty counts of destruction of government property, private property, assault, and manslaughter. The girl looked relatively normal, well, as much as any girl with red cat ears in a mane of fire engine red hair could look. Pretty too… Amy practically leapt into the zen garden, grinning at a job well done, though she was still a bit perturbed about the heroes, she was home, and they had more money. A job well done! She saw her adoptive father, Jack, as she walked in, and her grin got wider as she caught him in one of his few moments reminiscing. She had always had a hard life, abandoned on the streets for as long as she could remember. Starving, fighting over garbage to survive. But when she had started to grow, she had started to get strong. Soon, she was taking everything she needed to survive, and then Lucas had found her. He had offered her kindness, nice things, and compassion, and she had fallen like any kitten- or girl- would have. She viewed Lucas as a surrogate grandfather, and used her abilities to the benefit of the family, and then she had met Jack. More zany than even her, crazy, and destructive, but there had been something, some sort of strange, severely twisted paternal bond between the two, and then, well, the rest had been history. One quick trip to the courthouse, and the new father-daughter pair were laughing joyfully as they demolished the burning wreck of the courthouse. She climbed into the tree in the zen garden, reminiscing as she reached into her robe for an old photo, her cheeks quickly heating as her fingers came in touch with a weird figurine of sorts made of polished wood. It had been Lucas' old voodoo focus. She didn't know magic, but she had wanted it, and the thing always caused her to feel… Unusual. Now a bit older, she knew what those feelings were, and it only made her more determined not to give it back. Besides, Lucas had replaced the old one anyway…

Johnny scooted away from the computer, sighing as she rubbed her temples. This was a group of intelligent, capable psychopaths, if there ever was one. She felt out of her league. She needed to start trying to become stronger, but at the same time, she made a mental note that somehow, she wasn't going to let these people get away with whatever they wanted. It was time to start trying to become a better hero…

Six and a half weeks later, Price sat on the bed in the state of the art physical therapy clinic, having his pre-procedure interview with the physician in charge. "I'm not sure why you were scheduled. I don't deliver these services except for people actually in NEED of regenerative tissue therapy. You won't be here long." Price smiled. "I'm here because I'm a hero, I'm in need of a fighting advantage, I've signed a waiver, and I have what I need to pay." He said, handing over an envelope. "Inside, is a waiver I had drawn up by my attorney. You could cut my head off with a hacksaw and you would be without blame." He said. Sure enough, when the physician opened the envelope, he saw an extremely well-written contract, and a large fold of bills. A large fold of large bills. He gulped, taking a moment to compose himself before putting on reading glasses to go over the contract. A moment later he said "Well mister Price, I think we're in business." Price shook his head. "Price is my legal name, this is off the records. I'm mister Smith here."

Author's Note:

Shiney: Well, there you go. My last real chapter for a while, but don't fear! It's only a temporary exile, and I've left my partner in crime with a good number of base materials to post (Some of them good, some of them to make you lose your lunch, and some of them, I have no doubt will cause ceaseless requests for fanservice. _)

The-Tramp-Truffle: Partner in crime is here! For those few of you to believe in us…..! Good luck your gonna need it, now I need a frickin cigarette.