Chapter 4: Hammer and Sickle.
Jericho shook his head as he stepped out onto the street, and vowed that he would never get used to Herald's portals.
As he looked down the street, his gaze came to rest on two individuals, apparently intent on causing havoc. One, in the process of battering down a wall, was simply the biggest man Jericho had ever seen. His huge size marked him out as a metahuman, with broad shoulders and a heavyset physique, but what really defined him were his hands, which had to be the size of wheelbarrows.
The other figure, busy chasing panicked shoppers, was almost his complete opposite. Emaciated and unnaturally tall, his sunken cheeks and hollow eyes made him look one step from the grave. One quite small step. His hands ended not in fingernails, but in long, thin claws, with which he was attempting to slash the civilians. Jericho jumped in surprise as he wildly swung, and his claws gouged a deep groove in a brick wall with no apparent effort.
"Alright, you knuckleheads! We can do this the easy way, or the hard way!" Herald decided that now was the time to make his prescence known.
The thin man froze, and alerted his counterpart. "Well, we'd hate to disappoint, so we'll pick the hard way." His voice was a handful of decibels above a whisper.
Herald sighed. "If you insist." He cleared his throat. "Can I convince you gentlemen to surrender?"
This was not quite what the miscreants had expected. "What?"
"Well, this is the hard way."
The thin man chuckled. "Well well, we got ourselves a comedian. Well we're Hammer and Sickle, and we're taking you down!"
"I see you got a friend there, Mr. Sickle. Can it talk?" Herald was enjoying himself far too much.
The only response he got was a growl from Hammer.
"Guess not. I'll read you your rights slowly, then. Titans, GO!"
Hammer barrelled forwards, only to be met by a glowing red fist, courtesy of Argent. The others scattered, and Hot Spot sent a burst of flame billowing towards Sickle, who rolled out of the way with surprising grace. However, he failed to notice the blast of a horn, and got a huge electric shock as punishment for his lapse in concentration.
Meanwhile, Hammer was faring rather better. Argent was having trouble maintaining a shield, with Hammer's fists pounding on it. As Herald and Jericho ran to assist, they saw Hammer finally break a hole in the shield, which splintered like glass, and before she could react, Argent found herself grabbed by the collar and slammed into the remnants of her shield, stunning her. Herald, unsurprisingly, took exception to this, aiming a kick to Hammer's head. It connected, with a sickening crack and Jericho was sure he could see teeth flying, but the next moment Herald was caught in a vicelike grip. Jericho had had enough of this, and decided to get the lumbering giant's attention.
Sickle frowned, beads of perspiration forming on his brow. These diminutive, yet colourful, warriors were proving more of a challenge than he would have guessed. He flipped to the side to avoid another roving tongue of flame, and narrowly avoided a bolt of lightning. His concentration thus diverted, he couldn't react in time to the huge fist swinging at his head.
"Comrade! What are you doing?"
His only response was another fist, which he rolled sideways to avoid. Another blast of the horn, and Sickle suddenly found himself bound hand and foot by glowing red chains. As he tripped and fell, the last thing he saw before Herald's boot sent unconsciousness welling up inside him was a young blonde boy materialising in front of Hammer, as his erstwhile partner in crime was dispatched by a thunderbolt and fireball combo to the chest.
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"Good work guys. I think we just announced our arrival."
I've been here for months, you do realise.
"Yeah, but that's not the point."
"So, who's up for lunch?" Hot Spot asked, hope palpable in his voice.
"I think we can allow ourselves that luxury. Anyone know a place?"
There's a nice burger place just around the corner.
"Sounds good to me."
"Everything sounds good to you, Spot."
"What? A man's gotta eat."
"And how would you know?" Argent smirked.
Jericho silently chortled at this.
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It had been three weeks. In those weeks, Jericho had decided that agreeing to join the team was the best decision he had ever made. The others were great company to be around, they were working together fantastically, the public was behind them (although some of the letters he was getting from the fangirls were…perplexing, to say the least), and in Herald he'd even found someone who could appreciate his music.
At the moment he was sitting on top of the hill, a spot he had quickly claimed as his own, watching the clouds go by as he played. He often came here. It reminded him of his mountain, with the added bonus that he could leave whenever he wanted. His peace was disrupted by Argent, who poked her head up from the hatch that led into the base itself.
"Oi, mate. Herald wants everyone in the main room. Let's go."
Jericho nodded to her, and climbed down the ladder, his instrument in hand.
