Night of Blood (Part 3/4)

~EARTH ZF-025, WORLD OF BUILD~ 
 
There was a long, protracted silence after Kamen Rider Kiva had spoken those words. Night Rogue still reeled from the full-on kick to the face he'd recieved, mask gently smoking. Kamen Rider Build was still on his knees, clutching the wound inflicted by his enemy's blade. And Blood Stalk stood there, taking it all in as the two Smash behind him looked uncomprehendingly at the scene and growled.

Stalk was the first to speak. And, as usual, what he said threw everyone there off.

"Oh, my God, it's Batman!" he cried.

Kiva dropped his stance and turned. "Dude, we've been over this. I'm not Batman."

"Shut up, you're totally Batman!" Stalk looked as thought he wanted to start hopping up and down on the spot. "Come on, do the voice! The growly Christian Bale one!"

"No," groaned Kiva.

"Come on, do it! Do the-"

Stalk was interrupted as, with a grunt and a hiss, Night Rogue came to his senses and pulled himself upright. The shattered glass of his visor, a spider-web of cracks over the yellowish bat-shape, was plainly visible as he turned his head to face Stalk. It looked as though somebody had driven a truck straight into his face - which, given how hard the kick had been, was an apropos comparison.

"Stalk," he growled, "what are you doing?"

Stalk shrugged with almost casual nonchalance. "Who, me? I've been doing the thing you wanted me to do. And I gotta say, I'm doing a better job of it than you are right now. Seriously, you let the comic book nerd get the jump on you?"

Rogue said nothing, too focused on getting back to his feet to come up with a retort. But Stalk's words had a more immediate effect on Build. He immediately began to rise as well, ignoring the pain of his wound - though it made him wince behind the mask - to try and focus on the red-clad invader and his words. And perhaps it was because the words held more significance to him, but he managed to get back to his feet a lot quicker than Rogue did.

"Thing?" he demanded, voice sharp. "What thing?"

It was then that Stalk seemed to notice him. "Oh, hi. Nice colour combo, by the way. Red and green really suits you! Too bad I chose it first, but-"

"Stalk." That was Rogue, already losing his temper.

"Oh, right." Stalk gestured to Rogue and turned to leave. "This way, if you don't mind." And he began to saunter off down the corridor as though he were on the red carpet.

"Wait!" Build moved, dashing to try and catch up with the cobra-masked warrior. But he had to come to a stop, because two other figures suddenly barred his way, snarling.

"Oh, you know," crooned Stalk, "I'd love to stay and chat, Build. I really would. But these guys..."

"...they're kinda overprotective."

Stand By Me

WARNING: The following post contains material that certain readers may find upsetting. Reader discretion is advised.

~AUSTRALIA, EARTH ZF-02~

Approx. Twenty Years in the Future...

"Bee?"

"Yeah, Vee?"

The fire crackled, a badly-applied splat of scarlet and orange against the inky black canvas of the desert sand. The sky above was not quite dark, the last flickers of an evening sun daubing the edge of the horizon in duck-egg blue that faded to navy. Stars dotted the plane like the painter of this ongoing metaphor has lost all patience and was now just randomly flicking his brush at his own easel in frustration with the world in general. And, at the very edge of the splat, sat two figures - one blond, the other brunet, lazily draped within the back seat of a mud-splattered car of unidentifiable make.

The brunet, Vee, had turned open, honest green eyes towards his companion, Bee, as he spoke. His voice was the voice of the quiet, gentle European boy down the road who helped with the shopping, and should not have come from what looked like a wind-battered drifter, sand and grit stuck in his spiky brown hair. He looked too young - both did, somewhere in the awkward transition between teens and adulthood. And yet their dishevelled appearance granted them the look of people who had been dealt a bum hand in the great poker game of life, and had no choice but to keep plowing through the dirt to carry on.

"You ever wonder how long we've been doing this?" Vee continued.

Latest Update

Hold onto your tentacles, ladies and gentlemen, because it's time for...

INKOPOLIS LUNCHTIME NEWS! With your hosts, Callie aaaaaaand Marie!

"Helloooo, everyone! Hope you're having a good afternoon, viewers - we've decided to take this programme to the Salt-Tea Cafe as we sit down for coffee!"

"Which is what we do every day, but whatever."

"And we start off with the biggest thing to start the Lunchtime news with - the latest in Hero Watch! And whilst most of these brave, selfless types that call themselves the Kobbers are rather elusive and hard to capture on film, our ink-redible team-"

"Oh, my Cod, you actually went there."

"-managed to do what no other news corporation has done until now! That's right - we've finally got exclusive footage of that brave, dashing, very-obviously-handsome-"

"Stick to the script, Callie, jeez."

"...WE GOT FOOTAGE OF OOO!"

"Yes, after actual weeks of trawling around with our hidden cameras, we managed to catch that mystery masked man in action. About time too, I say."

"And this, viewers, is what we saw!"

Rule of Three

~LAS VEGAS, AT ABOUT LUNCHTIME~

It wasn't even Kobber season yet, and already there was trouble in Las Vegas.

It all began when a cafe exploded. This is not what cafe's ought to do, especially in the middle of the lunch hour, and thus the wave of panic that swept across the area was quite justifiable. It wasn't just the cafe itself that was evacuated, mind - every soul close enough to the buiding took to their heels with screams of terror, trying to put as much distance between them and the source of the explosion as they could before things got any worse. Because, in a world where superhumans regularly tangled with monsters, crime lords and otherworldly horrors, things were definitely going to get worse.

And they did, in short order, as the gangly insect monster emerged from the smoking shell of what was once a nice place to eat.

"Bah! Boredom and inspid stagnation!" thundered the mantis-like creature as he scraped his hooked talons other each other. "I was told this would be a city of excitement, where heroes came out of the woodwork every year!" And with a growl of effort, he swiped his forearms through the air, sending slices of purple energy sailing forwards to cut deep into the pillars that upheld part of a nearby bank. In a trice, the stone columns fell apart, bringing most of the overhang above with them in a shower of dust and rubble, and more screams emenated from the terrified pedestrians as they ducked under tables and into shop hallways, trying to find shelter from this unnatural event.

Not that the monster seemed to care very much at all. In fact, as he left the area of the care and turned to walk down the street, he seemed to be much more occupied with something else. His orange eyes, narrowed in a permenant sneer of haughty distaste, seemed to scan the panicking crowds in the same manner a cat eyes up a mouse just before the pounce, as if seeking something or other among them. Evidently, he was not finding whatever it was he sought, as growls of frustation left his mandibles at every other pass, until finally he seemed to give up and come to a dead stop in the middle of the street, blades and carapace glinting ominously in the sunlight.

"Where are they, then?" growled the monster at last, adressing the crowd at large. "Where are the mighty Kobbers, who effortlessly destroy every evil that goes up against them? Are they all too scared to try and stand against the all-powerful, all-destroying Kamakiri Majuu?! Come on out, you miserable wretches, and I shall-"

He was interrupted by a distant noise. A noise that was strange for not only having no apparent source to explain itself, but for being the sort of noise one does not expect to hear anywhere in the world. A noise that had seemingly no meaning by itself, and left the civillians, who had before been cowering in terror of the monster attacking them, as confused as their assailant was. A noise that was getting louder, as if it was approaching at a rapid pace, and was growing closer by the second as the source drew towards the chaotic scene taking place in the streets of Las Vegas.

And the noise went:

HAWK! TIGER! GRASSHOPPER!