Wearing the Cape 6: Team-Ups and Crossovers

Home > Other > Wearing the Cape 6: Team-Ups and Crossovers > Page 33
Wearing the Cape 6: Team-Ups and Crossovers Page 33

by Marion G. Harmon


  Maxima ignored the debate to fly at the staff wielder, only to run into an invisible force that sent her careening through a row of abandoned booths. She bobbed up from the wreckage, forehead-vein pulsing. “Is there any lore from that show that could apply in this situation? Did the wise man have any weaknesses?”

  Sydney shook her head. “He didn’t have any real powers! And that staff is the only bit from his costume!” She used her lighthook to wrestle a huge gun with a chainsaw bayonet away from an equally huge guy in equally huge armor. Finally disarming him, it took her a moment to realize he’d reverted back. “Props on the authenticity!”

  She gave the confused guy the three-second version, then floated back to her vantage point to observe and mull over options. Below her Astra’s ninja ducked and wove with what bordered on super-speed, utterly frustrating the girl’s every effort to grab him. Fortunately, he didn’t seem intent on harm—just on collecting underwear from the fleeing con-goers—which he was somehow able to do right through pants and from around waists without hurting anyone or even tearing their clothes.

  Halo decided the ninja-trick was pretty impressive, but since he wasn’t hurting anybody Astra gave up on him to tackle a… well, it looked like a velociraptor from Jurassic Park, but those were grossly misnamed. Real velociraptors were the size of turkeys and had feathers, but this was the size of a horse. So, probably a utahraptor? Astra knocked it on its side, braced one foot on its hips and popped its tail off. That did the trick and it reverted back to a rapidly deflating inflatable raptor outfit.

  Geeze, navigating a convention floor in that must have been… no, not important now!

  Then the battlefield changed as an array of force walls sprang up throughout the convention hall. Sydney glared accusingly at Crazy Druid before spotting Varia holding hands with a Hispanic gentleman they’d met at another convention handshake lineup a couple of months ago. She sighed with exaggerated relief; he’d gone on the emergency contact list, but had to have already been here at the con.

  The walls helped a lot, but didn’t shut the battle down; they protected fleeing attendees from ongoing fights, but the transformation beams emanating from the staff went right through them and Varia had to continually reposition the walls as victims were transformed within the evacuation groups she herded along. Still it mitigated a lot of the immediate bystander threat, and that allowed Sydney to focus on the problem at hand.

  So, back to Maxima—who was still having no luck. Trying to smash Crazy Druid Guy with tables or blowing up the floor near him to pelt him with shrapnel was as ineffective as charging or shooting at him. The staff just sucked in energy attacks, deflecting physical attacks like its wielder was standing in the eye of an invisible tornado.

  Hmm. Time to experiment a little.

  Since Sydney could only hold two of her orbs at a time and she wasn’t about to drop her shield so close to the bad guy, she landed outside the radius Maxima had bounced off of. Releasing her flight orb, she swapped it with the lighthook to try and bat at the laughing fool. Yep. The energy tentacle twisted aside without hitting him, even when coming from above.

  Ok, so it’s a spherical tornado.

  She looked around at the trashed convention hall. The dealer’s room was emptying, and at least no one had been killed—that she could see anyway, but keeping that from happening was tying up most of the team and she was a nerd, gamer, and comic store owner; all the flattened booths and broken and burned merchandise made her blood boil.

  “Focus, Sydney,” she muttered, shifting her brain into tabletop gamer mode. She might not be military-trained like a lot of the rest of the team, but she had freakin’ skills. A decade-plus of twisty tactical thinking honed in tabletop roleplaying games against some of the worst rules-lawyers, munchkins, and min-maxers anybody could dream of, and on Arc-SWAT she’d found that walking herself through a problem like she was looking for the winning move in a pen and paper dice game often brought her surprising solutions.

  She let her lighthook orb go and struck an arms-folded, chin-stroking thinking pose. “Okay, he’s transforming people at a rate that’s making it difficult to manage, but he should run out of those once we finish evacuating the convention center. Wait him out?” She mulled that over for a moment. Her recent experiences with the team had taught her that battles like this tended to be chaotic enough to make the fluid dynamics of crowds unpredictable. People would run in the wrong directions and get trapped, or might try and hide in bathrooms and under tables, giving him a long tail on his supply of targets. And the longer it went on the greater the odds that someone was going to get hurt. So, no.

  “We can’t trick him into transforming someone dressed as a good guy since everyone who changes seems to either have it in for us or wants to run amuck like the Utahraptor and the Panty Ninja. Hmm.”

  She wondered if they could get the Panty Ninja to help them de-costume people. Maybe, but that would probably only work if their costume primarily consisted of lingerie in the first place. Given how so many anime characters and superheroines dressed, that might actually work. I guess he’s probably already doing that anyway though. “The best bet seems to be to stop it at the source, but we can’t get at him, at least at the moment.”

  Sydney checked again and, nope, Maxima was still having no luck. She’d shifted her tactic to just trying to push into his deflection field, “flying” down into the ground to steady herself and cratering the floor with each dug-in step, but the staff seemed to have some sort of reverse event horizon around it; the closer Maxima got, the harder it turned her away until she was ripped from the ground and spun halfway across the hall. It took a frightening amount of power to be able to do that to Maxima, and it made Sydney wonder what the ultimate purpose of the staff was. This random transformation-slash-possession shtick couldn’t be it.

  I guess I could just ask. She shrugged and walked up to where Crazy Druid’s field just barely began battering the edge of hers. He’d stopped laughing and had started shouting, the words drowned out by the crackle of his defensive field. Sydney had assumed that it was either mystic incantations or general megalomaniac ranting—now close enough to make him out over all the noise, she realized he was arguing with his staff.

  Nope, not crazy. At all.

  “Mighty staff of the mightier Oryxarch! You have made enough guardians to defend you! Waste not your energies! Summon the great ArchoDemoMagus, I am prepared!”

  The staff paid him no heed and zapped a woman dressed as Slave Leia, who jumped on Varia’s back and tried to strangle her with the chain dangling from her collar. Fortunately Slave Leia was only as strong as an actual human woman and other con goers pulled her off before Varia got distracted enough to bring the force walls down. Whew!

  The situation had gotten static. Crazy Druid, who Sydney decided to name The Servant Of, ignored it all to continue arguing with The Staff Of while Maxima tried closing the distance again. Again no luck. Finally servant and staff seemed to agree on the same thing.

  “Perhaps once we have answered your damnable persistence, we will finally be able to complete our sacred task!” he shouted, pointing the staff at a group of con-goers who had been cut off from the exits by an altercation between Hiro and a mechanical beetle from… um, probably one of those short lived lines of toys that weren’t Transformers but were cashing in on their success.

  Who would dress up as one of those? They’d be pretty easy to deal with, anyway. Then Sydney spotted Casey in the crowd. Still dressed as Maxima.

  She’d ditched her jacket, but her hair was dyed and the paint… She couldn’t take off her costume without a serious shower. Oh, no frickin’—

  Frantic, Sydney jammed the priority com button on her wrist comp. “Corner of…” She paused and checked the compass on her wrist. “Yeah, northwest corner of the dealer’s room! There’s a cosplayer dressed as Maxima! Someone get her out of here before…”

  Maxima tried to disengage and the deflection field threw her as she lost
her “footing.” Astra shot across the room, landing hard enough to crater the concrete floor but in time to set and brace herself as a beam of energy shot from the staff.

  Ooh, I hope that isn’t bad. Sydney winced in anticipation—and the beam passed straight through the plucky heroine with no effect at all. Whatever it was, it couldn’t turn her into herself.

  Which meant nothing prevented it from striking Casey, except for her skeevy boyfriend who shoved her out of the way to take the hit himself. Sydney had to give him props, but the beam simply turned in mid-air and stuck her before she hit the ground.

  Oh, shit.

  Sydney always understood intellectually that Maxima was frighteningly powerful, but it wasn’t until this moment that she really felt it. The new Maxima (Fauxima?) rose into the air with an indifference and confidence Sydney had seen so often that she didn’t think about it anymore. Normally Maxima’s whatever’s-happening-had-better-not-annoy-me body language inspired confidence in her allies, but at that moment Sydney wasn’t sure the doppleganger-Maxima floating above them wasn’t projecting a fear aura like an elder dragon.

  Nope—Sydney’s shield was up, and even psychic stuff like that couldn’t get through it. She was just good old fashioned afraid.

  Max rose to meet her and, ignoring Astra and the other heroes between them, the two Maximas hovered in the air glowering at each other.

  Maybe if that’s all they do, Sydney thought hopefully. Like two samurai staring each other down. Then the real one shot up through the roof, scattering ceiling tiles and dust below. Sydney didn’t realized she had holding her breath until the other one followed a second later. Already half way to the ceiling, Astra started after them and then decided not to follow. Smart girl.

  “You idiot!” Sydney turned back to yell at The Servant Of. “One stray shot from either of them could level this entire—”

  “The powers false guardians cling to is nothing compared to the might of Oryxarch! Razer of civilizations! Gardener of conflict! Harbinger of darkness! Sautéer of—”

  A white flash from outside shattered every remaining window in the convention hall with the accompanying boom. Tiles fell from the ceiling and most everyone without powers was knocked on their ass, stunned. In the echoing silence, a thousand car alarms sounded in the distance.

  “…Souls.” The Servant Of finished, his confidence somewhat attenuated.

  “Yeah, ya big dummy, what are you going to do about that?” The teams’ throat mics sucked at picking up ambient sound, so Sydney turned on the one in her wristcom. Hopefully she could get this guy to slip up and spill something useful. Keep talking, crazy-guy.

  Getting him to shut up would have been easier. “Concern yourself not of the future, Orb Maiden! Once Oryxarch the Interminable chooses to reveal himself, all your worries will be at an end!”

  “Yeah yeah, ‘cause he’ll poach our spleens, I get it, so what’s the hold up?”

  “Oryxarch the Turmulent is not beholden to mortal timetables!” The Servant Of waved his arms in the air.

  “But?” Sydney prodded.

  The Servant Of set his jaw and visibly seethed, too angrily sullen for someone who seemed to be winning.

  “I am prepared to serve as his vessel…” He grabbed the hem of his robes and flipped them up exasperatedly.

  Finally Sydney understood. He was cosplaying as Oryxarch!

  “This outfit is a perfect recreation of The Consumer’s accoutrements.” The Servant Of shook his head, his bombastic oration slipping into a frustrated whine. “I… I mean I didn’t hand stitch it all. I used a sewing machine on some of it, but I had to rush when I discovered the staff would be here.”

  “Guys,” Astra whispered over her com. “Do we want to help him transform into Oryxarch?” Yup, the girl had figured it out. The idiot’s costume wasn’t complete enough.

  Dabbler came on. “He might be vulnerable during the transition. And even if he isn’t, we might only have one enemy to deal with once the change is complete—someone we don’t have to pull our punches with.”

  “Or it could make the existing transformations permanent.” Harem suggested.

  Sydney couldn’t contribute to the discussion without letting The Servant Of know others were listening in, so she took a breath and made a command decision, which is to say, she rolled the dice.

  “Well, where’s your helmet?”

  The Servant Of froze for a moment, then slumped. “Geeze! Lewis, you bonehead!”

  He trotted off across the convention center floor, his deflection field pushing Sydney and her shield out of the way. She grabbed her flight orb and followed along just above him, Astra joining her in the air as they watched him search.

  He finally found what he was looking for in the mess of the wrecked hall. The booth had been largely destroyed, but one banner still stood: “Stan’s Movie and TV Props.” A helmet Sydney recognized from their earlier encounter sat on the floor next to a knocked-over table.

  Sydney and Astra gathered themselves as he slowly placed the helmet on his head with the reverence of a crown.

  “And thus, I unleash the darkness,” Lewis, The Servant of The Mighty Oryxarch intoned.

  Several things happened at once. The staff began seriously glowing. Lewis began glowing. All of the transformed cosplayers began glowing.

  Oops. This might not have been one of my best ideas. Beside her, Astra just waited to see what came next.

  The transformed cosplayers jerked, erupting into glowing auras that pulsed and flew back into the staff as—Yes! Thank Kirby!—they all reverted. Visibly gathering its power back into itself, the staff fired an eye-watering beam directly into Lewis. More hugely impressive than the others, this blast of power was practically anti-light, a snaking coil of thorns and tentacles made of purple-black smoke and shadow that obscured Lewis in an inky tornado.

  Sydney wasn’t at all sure if she’d executed a brilliant plan or royally screwed the pooch, but Astra dove at the writhing mass without hesitation. Sydney shot her lighthook at Lewis, who was either screaming or roaring—it was impossible to tell over the noise of the dark tornado’s wind. The seething field battered Astra and Sydney’s lighthook away, but not with the same force as before. Not so tough? Big bad transformation draining you a bit?

  Not enough. Astra dropped to the ground and pushed into the savage coiling wind, battered back and forth. Her cape stood straight out behind her like a full windsock. It had to be like walking into an ongoing explosion, and Sydney could see the girl still couldn’t get close enough to Lewis to pull his costume apart.

  Sydney threw her lighthook out far past the twisting winds to go with the flow and wrap around what she hoped was still Lewis standing in the epicenter, but it vibrated so hard in the turbulence she had to drop her shield and grab the orb with both hands, exposing herself to peppering with the smaller debris caught in the fringe of the winds. Whatever was happening in there, she couldn’t see a thing through the whirling vortex. Then her lighthook jerked.

  Eyes on her feet as she leaned in, Hope nearly lost her footing when Halo’s lighthook flailed out of nowhere to hit her in the waist. Grabbing the energy pseudopod with both hands, she realized that the vector of their opponent’s protecting field had wrapped it around him before flipping it at her, anchoring it. Yes! She leaned more deeply, using it like a lifeline to pull herself closer to the source of the whole mess. They could do this.

  Except Oryxarch had started making some interesting noises, not the typical deep-throated gravelly laughter that seemed to emanate from all cartoon arch-villains. Not a good sign.

  Hope dragged herself closer to the crazy idiot—Why do half the guys who get serious power just go nuts? The wind finally tore her cape from her shoulders, and in the thick of the roaring storm she felt the sudden presence of something else in the vortex besides the wind. The savage gale obscured even her super-duper vision, but she felt too-real thorned vines wrapping around her, trying to pull her arms away from the lighthook.
She fought against it, but it already took all her strength just to inch her way forward.

  Her grip was starting to slip on the smooth surface of the energy tentacle when Oryxarch began growing. Ominous thorn-like spikes sprang from his armor. Seriously? Peachy. Just, peachy. This reality had seemed nice enough, but now it was really starting to suck.

  She held on as tight as she could, teeth clenched, while half-seen thorned vines tore at her arms, and then something smacked her from behind. She yelped, pushed forward, and spun—to see Hiro being thrown back out of the storm, his flying push just enough to shove her into the calm eye. She was in!

  And not out of the woods yet; Lewis was already twice as large now, purple light streaming out from beneath his armor. His head turned slowly towards Hope and more than just two glowing eyes shone from within the helmet. More eyes opened to focus on her as his features reshaped and he looked less and less human.

  No, not at all freaky.

  But Hope had faced Seif-al-Dinn and an enraged Grendel; Oryxarch was only scary. Leaping onto his swelling shoulders, she grabbed hold of the helmet and tried to snatch it off his head. A wave of nausea hit her as lightning danced through her arms and legs, but she refused to let go. Another pull, and she felt it start to give, but the transformation was fighting her. A new spike sprouted from Lewis’ shoulder, shooting right through her boot and—miraculously—between her toes. A second sprang from the side of his helmet, piercing her hand and she shrieked through clenched teeth, but the pain gave her a final shot of adrenaline and she yanked the helmet free.

  She hoped it was just the helmet.

  Resistance gone, Hope tumbled up through the air. Below her Oryxarch , thankfully with his own—albeit mutated—head intact, screamed as the dark tornado blew itself apart. Finally seeing her target, Sydney slid her lighthook down the back of his outfit and up the front before contracting it to tear the whole thing to shreds. In falling pieces, the costume turned into smelly black sludge and splattered everywhere as her teammates tackled the exposed Lewis from three different directions while his mutations melted and slid off him like he’d just stared into the Ark of the Covenant.

 

‹ Prev