To WeAreTheWorld, the only element of Harley Quinn I intend to borrow heavily from is that snippet about Dr. Psycho. The parodying all was a bit "much", and won't influence the wider world of Earth-16H.
SOME of the Flanderization was funny, but not all of it. "Single Dad" Kite Man was more compelling than... whatever the fuck Harley Quinn gave us.
To OmegaDelta, no, the intent was that he was comparing himself to Psycho Mantis, who was able to "possess" Laughing Mantis "from beyond the grave". The farther back into the Metal Gear timeline you go in-universe, the harder it becomes to separate Fact from Fiction for... pretty much everyone else.
As for "the next villain"… Well, we'll see if the "working" part of his "working vacation" counts.
To Thefallenjedi66, Kite Man's collapsible glider is basically a step down, or maybe "a step to the side", from Batman's own glider-cape, so I couldn't help but take an interest in it. Not to mention, unlike Batman's rig, Kite Man's leaves him "hands free", but I digress.
To Raidentensho, I think the name "Jokermobile" is an intentional jab at Batman's naming convention. As for Virgil and Emerald… It's up in the air honestly, but that I was able to make the "harem" angle work earlier than I had initially planned, well, anything is possible; my stories tend to take on "a life of their own" as they're being written, so if there's enough support from the fans either in the Reviews section or the Discord...~
*THE ENGLISH CHANNEL*
Atlantic Ocean
March 10 , 10:53 AST
"Hey," Mercury suddenly spoke up out of nowhere. "When we get to England, we should cross that street the Beetles did," he hummed eagerly as he, Emerald, and Ventus crossed the Atlantic in one of Real Fashion's private jets.
"That's in London," Emerald deadpanned.
"Doesn't mean we can't still do it," Mercury pouted. "We can make it a little day trip~"
"For once, I actually agree with him," Virgil said practicing with his makeup. "The three of us're supposed to be 'playing tourist' as our cover, so why not recreate the most iconic album cover in musical history?"
"I mean… you aren't wrong, but I don't like it when you and Merc actually agree on something," Emerald pouted cutely.
"What, you upset he's better friends with me than you?" the silver-haired teen grinned.
"Pfft, as if," Emerald pouted defensively as she reached over her armrest and hooked Virgil's elbow with hers.
She was happy to be taken into his confidence regarding the House of Secrets, but it also was a little frightening she couldn't talk about it to anyone else in any way, shape, or form. Especially since Cinder would really, really, really want to know about what was essentially a magical Tardis in the shape of a Victorian-era mansion.
Of course, as someone who'd stolen her fair share of treasure, she could understand Virgil's own desire to keep it to himself and his insistence that information on it be kept "in-house".
Truth be told, she was actually happier he wasn't a complete pushover. Sure, "Vincent" was meant to be "the conservative one" in their new trio with her being "the exotic one" and Mercury being "the bad boy", but at least he wasn't a total square. Too many models she worked with were either too strait-laced or too hedonistic, but Virgil was just the right blend of conservative where everyone was looking, and rebellious where everyone was not.
Learning he was in a legit three-way, as in one everyone was in on, came as a bit of a shock, but the fact that he could flat-out atomize people when he really cut loose, added a healthy amount of fear to the burgeoning respect he was building up from her.
Mercury on the other hand was of the opinion that he could "dodge lightning". And sure, his composite alloy prosthetics weren't likely to turn him into a lightning rod like his first set of legs were, but…
"So have you been to Europe before?" Virgil asked interestedly.
"Bitch, we've been everywhere~" Mercury chuckled good-naturedly.
"What he means is, yes, we're well-traveled," Emerald reiterated, smoothing things over between Cinder's faction and him.
At first, she'd been skeptical when Cinder had more or less sub-contracted them over to some kid with a high-tech battle suit, but after hearing about his activities in Hub City, she was beginning to realize what Cinder saw in him as a potential ally. As for what Cinder herself had been doing… On-paper, she was living it up as a model, stringing handsome bachelors along, maybe laying down with one or two to keep the public interested, but off-the-record, she was sure Ms. Fall was still working toward her ultimate ambition; something Virgil had yet to be brought into confidence about.
"Speaking of, Merc, where are you from?"
"I grew up in Leeds. Nothing happened," he huffed brusquely discarding most of his usual levity.
"Say no more," Virgil said throwing up his hands. "And I'm sure you two probably know all about my backstory. Everyone else around here seems to."
"Total honesty, I'm wondering why you crossed state lines so many times," Mercury hummed aloud.
"Probably the same halfwits who kept passing the buck with Winslow Schott Junior," Emerald deadpanned.
It was a little bit infamous that the son of Winslow Schott, more-colloquially known as "The Toyman", was bounced from foster home to foster home- "Like a little toy that nobody wanted." -according to one of Lois' infamous after-incident reports/articles. Of course, only reason they knew anything about the American foster care system was because what happened there was the foundation of Virgil's moral character, and probably explained his many deep-seated neuroses.
He'd be harder to manipulate, sure, but Mayer wouldn't have taken him on and left him as the suit's pilot if he were a complete sucker. And morally-flexible assets were always more valuable than those that'd dig their feet in the sand at the first sign of ambiguity at the absolute worst of moments.
You don't send Angels to do the Devil's work.
"Honestly, I never really put any thought into it. One foster home was the same as any other; only difference was when and how things turned pear-shaped."
"Well, yeah, I mean, how the hell do North Korean spies clear screening?" Mercury deadpanned.
"Sounds like a plotline for a wacky sitcom episode," Emerald added.
"I just chalked it up to someone in foster care being on the take, or a complete rube," Virgil sighed. "So what do you think of our handler?" he asked turning to the back of their private plane, eyeing the tagalong Mayer had assigned them.
She was a short, rotund woman with light skin, pale blond hair in a bob, wearing a conservative beige-colored suit. Her sneakers on the other hand were tie-dye and quite flashy, as were the glass bead bangles on her wrists. When introductions were made, they quickly figured out she was a bundle of sunshine, though whether it was a tactical choice to draw attention away from the three of them if any/all of them absconded or just how she acted out in the public eye, they had yet to figure out.
And of course, the only reason they were being as-candid as they were, was because Mayer stated quite-explicitly that she was in on more or less everything. Three models travelling the world on their own, that draws attention, but three models and a chaperone…? A lot less conspicuous.
"Eh, as long as she doesn't cramp our style," Mercury shrugged as he kicked up his feet.
"I hate to agree with him, but I feel more or less the same," Emerald sighed.
"Still, if she's going to cover for us, we should at least have a good working relationship," Virgil hummed.
*Flushhhhhhh*
"What was that?" Emerald blinked.
"Uh, a toilet," Mercury deadpanned.
"I know that you idiot! I mean, who flushed the toilet?!" she demanded turning to the ensuite.
*Click*
"Morris?! What're you doing here?" Virgil gawped incredulously as a familiar Welsch corgi padded out, a harness and leash in his mouth.
"Oh my gosh! He's so cuuute~!" Emerald gushed girlishly, causing Mercury to roll his eyes.
*Poomf*
"AAACK! What the hell is that thing?!" she screamed as she leapt into Virgil's arms, changing her tune when the Dijiang 'loosened his belt' as it were.
"Hey, cool headless chicken-pig!" Mercury grinned excitedly as he got on his knees and beckoned the mythical beast over.
"Um… Tadaaaaaa," Virgil offered as Morris chirped up at Mercury before offering the silver-haired teen his belly.
"I mean, I knew you were magical, but I didn't think you were that magical," the greenette said with an embarrassed flush as she extricated herself from his arms. "How'd he even get here?"
"I just accept that he can teleport," Virgil sighed as he took a seat on the floor and waved the Dijiang over.
"Well, looks like this trio has a new mascot~" Mercury grinned as he eagerly scratched the entity's fluffy tummy.
"I'll play nice as long as he's a corgi," Emerald pouted, causing Morris to trill irritably in her general direction.
"Don't worry, Morris. I love you just the way you are," Virgil soothed, causing Morris to crawl up into his lap.
*THE ENGLISH CHANNEL*
Calais, France
March 10, 19:57 CET
The actual crossing of the Atlantic took them around seven hours total, so by the time they arrived, it was around 8pm Central European Time after adding another five hours to their watches. With the sun setting two hours hence, there was no way for them to spot the White Cliffs of Dover from across the channel, so the three teen models, and their adorable mascot, decided to indulge in the local nightlife.
Emerald and Mercury were actually recognized, not too hard considering their Real Dye made them stick out like sore thumbs and they'd been part of the European circuit for a while before Virgil met them. "Vincent" of course, being an American up-and-comer on the fashion scene, was a little more obscure in Europe and only recognized by proximity. Heck, half the time Morris got more attention than him.
Not that his ego was so fragile he took offense to playing second fiddle to "a dog". Fame in the industry would either come to him, or it would not. What was important was having "an honest day's work" to be proud of while he did his "dishonest work" on the side.
After letting his new friends indulge their fans and their "image", as well as skirting some awkward questions regarding a potential "ménage à trois" that Emerald deflected like a champ, the three teen models, their mascot, and their chaperone settled down for dinner in a lovely French restaurant (colloquially called "a restaurant") that generously allowed for "emotional support animals" in anticipation of an early start the following morning. Especially since they had to adapt to the timezone.
*THE ENGLISH CHANNEL*
"Snails? Really?" Mercury asked with a level stare.
"Just so I can say I have," Virgil waved off as he plucked one of the gastropods from its shell and threw it back.
"How's the taste?" Emerald asked curiously as she picked at her fish.
"Mouth-feel is like clams, taste is like salty mushrooms," Virgil hummed as he ate. "Not the worst thing I've ever eaten."
Short story made shorter, the "worst thing" he'd ever eaten was foraging for food in NYZ. And the less thought about that Hell on Earth, the better.
Especially since given recent revelations about the paranormal world, Hell was probably a place you could legitimately go to; and you didn't even have to be dead for it!
" . . . Gimme one of those snails," Emerald sighed after a moment, Virgil sliding his plate and the tiny fork over. "At least they're swimming in butter and garlic," she said before popping one back.
"How is it?" Huggins asked over her salad.
"Not the worst thing I've ever eaten either," the greenette shrugged.
"Why? What's the worst you've ever eaten?"
In response, Emerald leaned over to whisper into his ear-
"Dumpster diving. In the middle of summer. In Cairo."
"Oh, wow, that is bad," Virgil shuddered, but also flattered Emerald chose to share.
"Get a room, you two," Mercury huffed with an eye-roll.
"What, jealous?" Emerald asked looping Virgil's arm again.
"I can already see the French tabloids," Huggins hummed to herself.
And where was Morris during this byplay?
Sitting in a fifth chair "like a person" and nibbling on breadsticks.
*THE ENGLISH CHANNEL*
Calais, France
March 11, 7:15 CET
The actual mission itself involved Virgil literally walking the Nanosuit across the Strait of Dover, the narrowest part of the English Channel between England and France which separated Great Britain from continental Europe and marked the boundary between the Channel and the North Sea. Emerald and Mercury would be shadowing him on a moderately-sized yacht, while their chaperone monitored whatever adjustments the suit made to itself.
The Strait of Dover itself was only "a scant 33 kilometers" or 20 imperial miles, its depth ranging from 120 to 180 feet, 35 to 55 meters according to the local metric system. While all of this was well within the Euphotic Zone where sunlight was readily available and photosynthesis was possible, what was actually being tested was the Nanosuit's ability to withstand nautical pressures, convert said pressure into energy for auxiliary functions, and also recycle the pilot's air supply. At 120 feet the pressure was around 53 psi, nearing 80 psi at the 180 feet range; in comparison, scuba divers on average could only handle depths of 130 feet before the pressure became too much for them.
While it was true that this sort of testing could've been done in a lab somewhere with a pressure tank and a treadmill, or just doing laps around a private island that C.E.L.L. had sway of, putting the suit through its paces like this was more-indicative of "real-world conditions" since, functionally, he'd be crossing both open fields and rugged terrain, and a sterile test environment tended to be somewhat "slanted" towards unreliable in terms of information-gathering.
It was highly doubtful this iteration of the Nanosuit would be able to walk into the heart of… say, Atlantis; in fact such a trip might require a wholly over-specialized suit lacking many of the bells & whistles taken for granted in the prototype model. But the day's little sojourn was above all else meant to test peripherals; radar imaging, underwater jets aka "hydro-thrusters", the nanobots' ability to reliably accelerate blood flow through the body and comfortably supply more oxygen to the brain and muscle tissue, etc. Little quality-of-life things like that which would truly enable the Nanosuit to become "the next step in combat evolution" and corner a rapidly-expanding market.
As a "just in case" in the event of random shark attack, he'd been given a harpoon gun and an HF Machete, the alternating current powered by the suit itself similar to how such tech was fueled by combat cyborgs' built-in power sources.
The actual use of the oscillating blade wasn't nearly so visually dramatic as say… a Lighitsaber underwater, but the "thrumming" of water around the blade was definitely noticeable, and Virgil had no idea what its usage would sound like to the locals given water carried sound better than air.
*THE ENGLISH CHANNEL*
"Virgil, how's everything holding up?" their chaperone asked in her perpetually peppy lilt. "You haven't turned into a fart submarine or anything have you?"
"Everything's holding up just fine, Huggins. And no, no I haven't," Virgil replied into his helmet.
The night before he'd avoided gas-inducing foods for this very reason; best not to throw too many variables into the day's testing. Doubly-so because he didn't want gas to be the reason he triggered his emergency airbag.
"It's a little murky down here, but all in all, it's basically hiking with extra steps."
"That's what I said!" Mercury blurted.
"You sure you're feeling okay?" Emerald asked more-concernedly.
"I mean… I don't feel like my heart's gonna explode. Only reason I can move as well as I am now is because of the nanotech in my system," he replied, his footsteps kicking up silt as he trod along.
The sunlight was still visible from above, more and more as the sun got higher in the sky, but it being winter and all, he was fairly certain he'd have croaked of hypothermia even with a conventional wetsuit.
"It's… really quite beautiful down here," he hummed after several moments, panning his head so the suit would get as much footage as possible.
"Eh, I'll wait for the movie," Mercury hummed dismissively.
"This is 'the movie', dipshit," Emerald huffed. "You see any fish down there? I've been scuba diving in the Bahamas, but never around England."
"Actually, that's the weird part…" Virgil said warily as he took hold of his machete. "There should be cod, herring, whiting, hake, pilchard, and mullet down here," he listed off as SECOND fed the prevalent information directly into his brain, "but so far…"
"So farrrrr…?" Huggins asked in her usual peppy lilt.
"It's like something scared all the fish away."
"Like in the movie Jaws?" Mercury suggested.
"No, Merc. That would be retarded," Emerald deadpanned.
"Hey, heads up, Vee. I just picked up a contact on your seven."
"I saw it too, Huggins," Virgil replied as the indicator in the corner of his HUD chimed. "Not big enough for a shark, and I've still got Armor Mode."
"Well, maybe if you keep walking forward it'll leave you alone?" Huggins offered.
"Well now you've just jinxed him," Mercury deadpanned.
"Merc, we aren't talking causality here…" Emerald deadpanned.
"Ohshitit'scomingrightatme!"
"Hey Em, how's your fucking flipflop taste?" Mercury snarked as Virgil whirled around with hydro-thrusters, HF Machete raised as he came face to face with… a Selkie?
From what records he skimmed through at Argus, Virgil had learned that "normal" Selkies were just Atlanteans with the lower bodies of seals instead of fish; another strain of "Impure" Atlanteans whose ancestors grafted aquatic lifeforms (and/or their traits) to their bodies in order to adapt to the sudden sinking of an entire continent. The whole thing happened so-long-ago and so-suddenly, no-on on land or sea could tangibly agree on what had caused the great cataclysm, only that something caused an entire super-continent to sink below the waves practically overnight. The fact that anyone survived was only due to its sophisticated magi-tech.
The thing before him however… It looked like the monstrous cross between a man and a leopard seal, only three times the size of a man, and its wide jaw was filled with sharp teeth like daggers. Held in its hands was a crude weapon like a spear, maybe a bident, but when the thing's presence made his neck-hairs do corkscrews like when that cellar full of discount vampires opened up in Hub City…
[Speed Mode]
The Nanosuit hyper-accelerating the nerve impulses through his body, both in signals received and instructions delivered, the Beast-Selkie slowed before him; though that still left it pretty damn fast.
Stepping into its next charge at a speed no land-walker in the sea had the right to, with CQC he moved the thing's melee weapon aside with one hand while mercilessly thrusting his machete into its hide with the other. Its magical pelt offering only a token resistance to the science-powered blade, he raked the oscillating weapon down its abdomen opening up his belly, filling the water with crimson. The thing desperately trying to hold its spilling entrails in with both hands, Virgil plucked its discarded bident out of the "air" before skewering the thing's brain through its open mouth. The beast-selkie shuddering for a couple seconds as it died in horrible agony, the next moment Virgil eapt up before pinning it to the ground, panting into his visor after his first fit of underwater combat. Something that most-assuredly was not on the day's menu.
" . . . Okay I'm just gonna come out and say it," Emerald hummed aloud once the fighting stopped. "What?! What the FUCK?!"
*THE ENGLISH CHANNEL*
Obviously, some form of magical debauchery was occurring in the English Channel.
Of course, you didn't have to be a magical genius to figure that much out.
By and large, such things weren't wholly uncommon in Europe. As a matter of fact, the average citizen in Europe was more-likely to believe in magical involvement in anything "weird" than the average American, given how rich Europe's folkloric history was with the occult. In fact, given America's relative youth of around roughly two centuries, it was understandable why even with the native shamanism of the original peoples, that Americans themselves were still hesitant to believe in capital-m Magic. Doubly-so when conservative Catholic organizations killed anything remotely believed to be magical with a literally religious zeal. And as an aside, Virgil never did get a straight answer whether or not any actual witches were burned at the stake in Salem...
Thankfully, however, the Atlantean Embassy at the UN had a hotline dedicated for the sighting of magical marine life when it acted strangely (read: violently).
True, at least half the calls were cranks from people (read: assholes) who didn't treat Atlantis with the respect it deserved, but after Huggins called in the "Abominable Selkie" that had been fought, it came about that Atlantis in general put out a bounty on such abominations given the magical properties of their pelts. That the pelt in question was a hundred times more valuable than normal sealion skin, and also infinitely more legal, was just a pleasant boon on the side.
In USD that was around $3,200 per square foot, and at three times the size of a man, the "Abominable Selkie" had roughly 66 square feet of pelt to give. Deduct the cost of processing since Huggins and her "diver friend" weren't interested in the meat, and they were looking at a happy windfall of a little over $200K.
Mercury was ecstatic and told Virgil to smear himself in the blood and entrails so he could bait more, but Emerald and Huggins were of the opinion that he should put a tracker on the body, leave it for drone pick-up by the nearest C.E.L.L. branch, and keep on walking. It was entirely possible that the Director would authorize a continued foray to hunt magical man-seals once the oxygen-recycling capabilities of the suit had been more-thoroughly tested, but Virgil just accepted that his "hike with extra steps" would involve fighting aggressive wildlife.
Exactly like the last time he went hiking.
*THE ENGLISH CHANNEL*
The English Channel
March 11, 10:26 CET
"Hey Vee o' pal o' best buddy of mine. How many pelts does that make now?" Mercury grinned eagerly a couple hours later.
"Ten… Ten abominable sea lions…" Virgil sighed after laying the most-recent one to rest, pinned to the seafloor.
And honestly, it wasn't even about the money anymore; nor was it about people being turned into sealions and/or sealions being made 'into people'. It was the fact that anyone other than him might get hurt by these things, and unlike the starving children in open-bracket {Name Any African country} closed-bracket, what was happening around him right now, he could actually do something about.
Unfortunately, it wasn't only monster sealions that were down there…
"I've seen enough anime to know which holes these go in~" Mercury ginned.
"Dude, that is just sick… and wrong!" Emerald retched, also watching the feed.
"Yuck. Talk about wrong-sick!" Huggins groaned from her place over their shoulders.
"I DON'T NEED THE PLAY-BY-PLAYYYY!" Virgil raged as he was man-handled by a feral, blood-red, twelve-meter squid with barbed suckers, golden dinner plate-sized eyes, and a hubcap-sized beak. "DIE! DIE! DIE!"
The armored teen hacking wildly at the tentacle holding him, the chromatophores on its skin making black eldritch runes writhe like worms, the Nanosuit hardened with [Armor Mode] as the thing attempted to open him up like a tin of sardines. The teen feeling like he were dropped into an industrial press, its flesh offering greater resistance to the oscillating blade than the beast-selkie from before, triggering [Power Mode] as well in exchange for a dip in his battery, Virgil was finally able to cut the tentacle free.
"EAT IT!"
Whipping out his harpoon gun and jamming it in his mouth, right as he was about to fire into the heart of his captive audience, the thing's eyes widened in awareness before another tentacle whipped out. The armored teen sent pinwheeling with the force of a vehicular collision, blood stained the inside of his visor as he smashed through a boulder, warning klaxons blaring as kicked-up silt filled his vision.
"Vee! Vee, use your airbag!" Emerald pleaded desperately.
"W-What? And let you guys wind up… like those old-timey… maps…?!" he bit out as he pressed himself into the silt and used his [Cloak] to vanish, the feral squid jetting overhead, its severed tentacle already regenerating. " . . . Decreasing buoyancy by an additional ten percent…" he muttered, SECOND transmitting his instructions to the suit causing it to vent air through the seams.
"Vee, what the hell're you doing?!" Mercury cried from his end.
"Only option I've got is to fight, and I can't do that if I'm floating like a buoy…" he answered as he rolled over and pushed himself up, the nanotech coursing through his veins already easing his suffering. "Hey! Hey, over here ugly!" he said snapping out his light and flashing it, the feral squid whipping around and shooting at him like a crimson torpedo.
[Speed Mode]
The world slowing around him, muscles straining under the weight of the Dover, leaping to the side and taking a CQC stance, he leveled his flashlight under the barrel of his harpoon gun and blasted the feral squid straight in the eye. Bar-shaped pupil dilating almost painfully slowly, the next moment a composite harpoon skewered it in the eye, sending the thing reeling with a horrid squeal that raked against his brain like nails on a chalkboard. The teen leaping onto the passing tentacle and stabbing his machete into the writhing meat like a climbing piton, its barbed suckers undulated painfully against him as he climbed up its body like something out of Shadow of the Colossus, or maybe God of War.
In its desperation to free itself of the pest attacking it, the giant squid whipped its tentacles in the silt and attempted to scrape him away, the armored teen digging in his heels until he struck bedrock. The thing jerking to a sudden stop, with his slackened buoyancy Virgil was able to slingshot his way up to the thing's collar, skewering his machete under the mantle like a shot harpoon. Grabbing on for dear life as the thing zig-zagged through the murky water to shake him, bucking like a greased broncho, whipping up his legs, he quickly heel-kicked the pommel of his machete with a nauseating-
*SQUIRT!*
"FUWAAGH!" Virgil cried as the thing crashed fin-first into the ground and bucked him in an arc like a motorcycle, the teen tumbling over rocks and silt before coming to an undignified stop back-down, the shadow of their yacht overhead between him and the sun's light.
"Huh. Well…" Huggins hummed aloud once the alarm klaxons stopped.
"That was a thing…" Emerald hummed.
"How much you think that thing's worth?" Mercury grinned as the thing's tentacles fluttered in the currents.
"Not even on your life…" Virgil deadpanned as he pat himself down, checking for hull breaches. "I think I'm still okay. I'm gonna get my machete back, make my way over to England, and then sleep this day off like a baaaaad hangover."
Toggling the compressed oxygen tank and increasing his buoyancy, like he were moon-walking he bound over to the body in large, louping steps. Mounting the fallen squid and staring at its mantle, a tiny black nub of metal protruded from the collar, blood thick like syrup bubbling up from the wound toward the surface as its chromatophores slowly bled to white.
*Squish*
*Squash*
*Sclurtch*
"Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew."
"Vee, you're wearing a suit, how can you feel any of that?" Mercury deadpanned as his acquaintance got wrist-deep inside an overgrown calamari platter.
"Tactile senses, probably," Huggins hummed. "External feedback's important."
"What's taking you so long?" Emerald asked.
"Suit's almost completely drained. Even though it's using the Piezoelectric Effect to constantly generate energy so I can move at all down here, using so many Modes and nanobots in succession almost zeroed me out. I shudder to imagine what would've happened if I went down to zero down here…"
"Oh, don't worry. Unless you activated the Override, Life Support is always given priority in energy allocation," Huggins offered.
"Well that's good to know…"
*WHOOSH!*
"What was that?" Emerald gulped.
"I've got a baaad feeling about this," Virgil groaned as he slowly worked the HF blade free.
"Airbag… Airbag. Hit the airbag right now!" Emerald cried as something huge blotted the light from his camera feed.
"Ohhhhhh fuck me…!"
*THE ENGLISH CHANNEL*
Dover, England
March 11, 10:46 WET
John Constantine more than anyone in the magical world knew what it was like to get into the muck of it. Almost like that one yank who did dirty jobs on camera because apparently there was a market for that sort of thing.
Which was why, as someone who was used to being saddled with the shite jobs no-one wanted to or could do and not getting a lick of thanks for it, he appreciated a laid-back day with the "Justice League of Europe" when some total knob happened upon an ancient vault of pre-Cataclysm Atlantean magic and used it to fuck with the local wildlife in a weekly "take over the world" spiel.
As for the membership of this bootleg legion of capitalist face-punching super-friends, there was Jason Blood who didn't feel like bringing the other guy to the party; Godiva, some British chick with long prehensile hair that'd check the boxes of pervy Japanese teenagers and single men everywhere; Shining Knight, a legit Arthurian knight with magic swag and a horse from Merlin who got Marty McFly'd into the modern day; Knight and Squire, Europe's bootleg answer to Batman and his under-aged love slave Robin; and Crimson Fox, a French dame with super-everything, pheromone powers, and metal claws.
Of course, not everyone could magic their way across the whole of Europe at will like he could, so Europe's representatives in the UN pulled a few strings, offered some bribes, and sent some under-aged interns a few peoples' way and got the "Justice League of Europe" limited access to the Zeta Tube network that the Americans enjoyed. The "Justice League of Europe" couldn't travel globally like the legit Justice League could, but it helped them all stay mobile, and Constantine certainly appreciated the occasional magic-free warping in case Morty the Troll ever came knocking for the money he owed… whoever he owed money to that week.
He was going to pay the bloke back, he swore on his mum's grave!
Anyways, this magical bloke was a right pain in the bleeding arse, what with him turning poor sods into fish-people and terrorizing boats with giant squids and whatnot. And of course, there was the bloody monologuing!
"Foolish heroes! You'll never be able to stop… my ambition!" the man shouted as he slammed a coral-tipped staff into the dock they were all fighting upon, the waters at his back churning before a massive "demonic" shark burst through the surf, arcing through the air like something from bloody Sea World.
Now, normally sharks are already killing perfection, having changed very little apart from size since they were technically dinosaurs, so this ugly bugger basically had spiky bone armor on its dorsal side, and was about 12-ish meters, or "forty feet" as the yanks called it, long. The legit runes carved into it were also cause for concern as it dove for Shining Knight and his magical flying horse, intent on making a meal of them both.
Which was why it confused all in attendance when it under-shot the jump, landing on its side and coughing up blood as it had some kind of seizure.
The fighting actually coming to a pause as the thing up and died on them, the next moment a jet black machete dragged its way down the length of its unarmored belly, spilling blood and entrails all over the docks. Crawling out of the gaping hole a moment later was some bloke in a high-tech diving suit and a red visor covered in slime and effluvia, something tucked under his arm as he tumbled out of the belly of the beat with a wet *SPLAT!*
"Glugh! Smells like bloody shite and moose piss!" Constantine retched as he held his nose.
Sure, he'd smelled worse in Europe's magical underbelly, but it wasn't like he was so-inured to the rank scents that he wouldn't plug his nose when something especially foul coughed itself up.
Or in this case cut its way out like a Chestburster. Which the magical world had by the by.
No amount of whiskey could ever make that moment go away. Not even the good shite!
The slime covered figure getting to his feet, everyone staring incredulously at him, the man's crimson visor panned from side to side before eventually landing upon the magical local who stared gob-smacked at the thing that cut its way out of the demonic shark he'd just summoned from the briny depths.
" . . . . . . "
" . . . "
The next moment the diver scraped a license plate off his slimy ass and chucked it like a ninja star, clocking the magical asshole in the throat. His hands going to his neck as he gasped for breath, dropping his magic scepter, without even sparing a second glance the slime-covered diver turned on his heel, adjusted his package under his arm, and walked to the edge of the dock before stepping into the water with a *splash*
" . . . Well that made my job easier," Constantine said as he picked up the crazed wizard's staff and snapped it in half over his knee, freeing the poor sods from their mind-control.
They were still hideous fish-people, but he was sure the Atlanteans had something to fix that with.
Or not. Either way, it wasn't his problem anymore.
"Now, where can a guy get a fuckin' pint around here?" Constantine asked as he slipped the magically-charged piece of coral into his pocket.
*THE ENGLISH CHANNEL*
Dover, England
March 11, 11:34 WET
Following his departure from the shark's belly, Virgil returned to the bay and walked out to sea to meet back with the boat. Most of the wrong-sick washed off in the briny water, but some of it held onto his armored hide persistently, so he had to scrub himself down with a brush before Mercury would even think of letting him back onto the boat. Once he did, he snuck his way back onto the boat with the help of Emerald's meta-ability, peeled the suit off, and recounted what they had missed through the bathroom door as he gave himself a very hot shower.
Nothing actually got through the suit, but it was the principle of the thing.
"You chucked a license plate at him..." Emerald deadpanned at the sum of Virgil's recounting as he stepped out of the modest shower, clad in a fresh change of clothes and toweling off his hair.
"There were other heroes there. I just broke the stalemate is all," Virgil sighed as he tried to eat some apple slices Emerald prepared for him.
He didn't have any appetite after literally becoming food, oh the irony, but the gesture was appreciated, nonetheless.
"Still, hard to believe that mega-shark just swallowed you whole," Mercury hummed as he stared at what Virgil had plucked from the belly of the beast and taken back with him; an old-timey treasure chest of black wood the color of a starless sky, speckled with moss and barnacles, the steel banding rusty with age (and also barnacles), the clasp at the front featuring a silver skull & crossbones. "What was this doing in there anyway?"
"Sharks will eat anything," Virgil sighed tiredly as he tried and failed to choke down an apple slice. "Found all sorts of weird shit in there. A rocking chair, an anchor, a chainsaw..."
"Huh. Neat," Mercury hummed as he reached over to pick the lock.
*SMACK!*
"Ow! Son of a bitch!" he cried as Emerald smacked him upside the head.
"Idiot! Can't you see that thing's cursed as hell?!" the greenette demanded as she jabbed a finger at the treasure chest Mercury tried to open.
"There's no purple aura around it or anything…" Mercury pouted as he nursed his head.
"That's only in cartoons and anime, dipshit!" Emerald snapped.
"I agree with her, that thing is cursed as hell," Virgil hummed as just looking at the thing gave him 'the Willies'; to him, it was a sudden and overwhelming 'clammy' sensation across his skin, starting at the nape and shooting down his spine before spreading to the rest of his body.
"So we ain't opening it?"
"Not today we aren't," Virgil huffed. "Not if you still want that Beatles photo."
"I do like interesting photography," Mercury hummed aloud.
"Then we're in agreement. This thing only gets opened after it's been 'scrubbed'," Virgil said as he threw a towel over it, if only so some passer-by didn't see it at an inopportune moment. "Huggins, we ready to go?"
"Yeah… There's a little fish-stink on the case, but at least it's not a 'fart submarine'," the round woman chuckled, while off to the side, Morris whimpered and covered his snout with his paws.
"But seriously though, is that giant squid worth anything?" Mercury inquired, causing Virgil and Emerald to groan tiredly, the two slapping their foreheads.
*AN*
Yes, this was a Red vs Blue reference. I've just always been fascinated by the idea of walking under the water in a super suit, even before The Shisno Paradox, so this was especially fun to write. Huggins being their "chaperone" whenever the three of them travelling also makes some measure of sense, as someone who can make excuses for them overseas would get them a lot less scrutiny whenever they have to take an… "enthusiastic walk".
Anywho, I hope to hear from you in the Reviews section, and I'll see you all next timer in Chronicle of Zhu.
Until next time!
But first, a Deleted Scene because I wanted the "chapter" to end on Mercury's witty dialogue.
*DELETED SCENE*
Virgil, wanting to change tack from the thing that tried to molest him like something out of a 19th century woodblock-print, decided to change tack toward whether or not dying as food was technically ironic.
Five minutes in and he deeply regredded not talking about the squid, because the three of them wasted... an ungodly amount of time with that malarkey as Huggins pulled in their boat well away from the thing that ate him.
Eventually, such talks about irony did come to an end, Virgil's mental exhaustion only deepening, even if his appetite had been able to return somewhere along the way.
"I am going to need... so much booze and sex to make that moment go away," Virgil groaned as Huggins moored their yacht.
"Well, if you want to get shit-faced, you're a year short; but if you absolutely gotta have sex ASAP, I think your newest fangirl might be up for spreading her legs~"
"Shut up, Merc!" Emerald hissed, her ears as red as her eyes as she drew her hand back.
*SMACK!*
"Son of a bitch!"