BtVS by Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Marvel U by the parent company and its many artists/writers.
To avoid writer's block, I'm taking refuge in the surreal.
After having a cross-country adventure, which left him better acquainted with the nightlife of Tara's reality, Remy found himself in a building near the Sunnydale University campus outside his sister's door.
Tucking his shades into a pocket, Remy knocked, but he received no answer.
"You know, dis really isn't the kind of thing you leave a note for." He trailed off, hearing one of the doors behind him creak open.
"Hey, would you be looking for Tara?" a brown-haired man asked, stepping into the hallway. "She left a while ago. She was headed out to the local graveyard with a box of supplies for some kind of voodoo ritual or somethin'. Can't say I was paying that much attention."
"For some reason I'm not awfully surprised," Remy said.
"Yeah. Well, you'd probably be better off finding her then waiting here for her... Wait, who are you anyway?"
"The name is Remy. I used to know the family, but I've been out of touch for years. I just found out about her mother's death and, well... Now, do you really think it's a good idea to be tellin' complete strangers a young woman's whereabouts in the middle of the night?"
"The name's Rodney... Trust me. With the crowd she's taken to hanging out with lately, she can take care of herself."
"Hmm, well, thanks for the information." Remy shrugged and was turning to go when something else crossed his mind. "Wait. Graveyard? Anything specific I should keep an eye out for?"
"What? It's a graveyard. It's got tall angel statues. Crypts. You know, the general dead thing."
Remy nodded his thanks and walked away, whistling.
##
Sighing, Rodney shut the door. He sank into a chair and read for a few minutes, until the phone rang.
He looked up and smiled, muttering '10:00 on the dot' before answering the phone.
"Hey, Mr. Maclay? The answer is 'he has red eyes'. Can you wire over the rest of my bonus now?" Rodney drummed his fingers on the table as he listened to the response. "Yep. He was just here. Remember how you asked me to make his life slightly more difficult if I could? Well, I sent him on a wild goose chase into vampire territory.
"No, sir, your daughter's at some high school helping them set up for a play. No chance they will run into each other tonight. You know, when you first knocked on my door and asked me to be your eyes and ears in Sunnydale I had no idea it would be this lucrative. Tell you what... If you increase my 'wage' by twenty-five percent I'll spy on 'Remy' too. Assuming, of course, he survives the night."
Given the life I've led, Remy thought. I wasn't too surprised to find undead in this dimension. This though...
"I've seen the dead raised by pure rage. I've fought vampires both spiritual and viral. I've even come across supposed-to-be-random genetic mutations which mimic your kind too closely for it to be coincidence alone, but, buddy, ya take the cake. Clearly you've been hunting the night for, what, three decades? How is it that no-one's staked you yet?"
The red-eyed mutant stared down the six-foot-tall apparition in a puffy grey wig, a Saturday Night Fever era three-piece suit and extremely thick clear plastic shoes with large fish swimming in them.
"Dude!" the vampire stated, refusing to be intimidated. "This is a costume. You must be behind on your pop culture. Ain'cha ever heard of Disco Stu?"
"Wha? From the Simpsons?" Remy asked, eying the clothes with new understanding. "How do you expect to get any quality huntin' done? If you don' mind me asking. Think your victims will be laughing too hard t' run away?"
"Nah, right now I'm not out hunting," the vampire said, reaching down to push a hidden catch in his belt. "I'm just taking my pets for a walk."
With a loud click a hatch on each of the aquarium shoes opened up, spilling water onto the ground. The fish hovered in place, unaffected by the loss of the liquid, then flew out en masse to attack Remy with their sharp little demon teeth.
##
By the time the fish left the shoes, Remy was already in motion. He threw himself forward, holding his staff in front of him, hoping to dive under the wave of teeth.
His strategy worked as the fish were moving too quickly to react to his change in position, but a lucky one managed to sever a lock of his hair from his head.
Remy's eyes widened as he felt the tear.
He pulled himself to his feet and in one smooth motion, before the falling strands of hair could hit the ground, he pierced the chest of the vampire.
Grabbing the huge wig off the guy's head, leaving the metal staff half-way through the vampire's chest for the moment, Remy charged the hairpiece until it glowed with a blinding light.
The school of demon fish had regrouped by this point, so they sped forward again, aiming for the mutant's back.
"You do not mess with the hair." Remy snarled as he grabbed the vampire by the shoulders, holding the undead guy in place as he moved behind him. Using the vampire as a shield, Remy threw the charged wig into the midst of the oncoming fish.
After a short, gentle arc through the air, the wig exploded violently, drenching the vampire and the exposed parts of Remy in a hail of fish guts.
Feeling a touch on the back of his neck, the vampire stepped forward, grabbed the staff, pulled it from his chest and swiftly turned in pace, hitting Remy on the side of the head before he had a chance to react.
"What the heck did you do that for?" the vampire asked the stunned mutant, as he raised the staff to deliver another blow.
"Oh, I can charge zombies and make dem burst. Jus' seeing if you'd be affected. No offense meant."
"Sorry, pal. I heal. I'm not a shambling pile of dead flesh. Plus," he said, punctuating the words with a strike to Remy's legs. "Walking around Sunnydale with a metal bo? Not very smart. I mean if you were Leonardo maybe I'd be dust instead of hitting you in the head with a hole through my-"
The vampire's words were cut off as someone with a sword standing behind the vampire sliced cleanly through his neck.
The vampire's head had a chance to look surprised before it, his body and the rest of his faux-70's wardrobe puffed into a cloud of ash.
"Everybody knows Donatello had the stick," a short blonde figure said, apparently enjoying her momentary chance to tower above the prone mutant. "Don't you just hate when they forget the classics?"
"Thanks for the assist," Remy said as he pulled himself to a sitting position, the movement revealing what was charging in his right hand. "But his head wouldn't be in place even if you hadn't shown up. Dey call me Gambit."
"Buffy Summers," she said, angling the sword within striking distance of his exposed arm. "Now be a nice obvious-demon-yet-possible-champion-for-good and put down the cards."