Bluebottle27

Round 2 – Green goes with everything Metro City, like any other city, had both a day-life and a night-life and the night-life was in full swing as Cammy made her way back to the Plaza Hotel she was staying at; neon signs and street lights creating a sea of multi coloured lights lending an almost otherworldly ambiance to the various streets and squares that made up the city as bars and restaurants opened their doors, drunk revellers stumbling out in somewhat unsteady groups, laughing and singing (badly) at the tops of their voices mixing with the better dressed groups from the restaurants. Techno Music bass beats thumped out of the doors of the Nightclubs, loudly enough for you to feel the shockwaves from the music if you got close enough. Groups of youngsters, too young to drink, but old enough to be out and about on their own, made their own entertainment by hanging out together, either in the park or on various street corners engaging in impromptu breakdancing matches, or simply

Round 1 – Setting the stage From time immemorial, there has been the concept of “Power” and of “Strength”. In the dim, distant past of Pre-history, just as today in the animal kingdom, strength and power were synonymous with survival…not just for oneself, but of the species as a whole. The strongest could bring down the biggest and best prey to eat. The strongest could beat all rivals to find the best breeding mates to propagate the species. Any disagreements would be settled by fighting, the winner being the one who was right. As time went on, attempts were made to introduce rules and customs to these fights, thus came the concept of “Civilisation”, though this was a thin veneer at best, a veneer that could crack…or be cracked…fairly easily. Time marched on still further and the veneer grew thicker, less likely to be cracked so easily, and as it did so, the concepts of “Power” and “Strength” found new routes to be displayed; new routes that discarded the notion of Survival

Chapter 2 Late afternoon, early evening The doors to the Illusion Bar banged open, allowing 2 limp bodies to fly through and land in a crumpled heap on the pavement outside. “And don’t come back, d’ya hear!?” a feminine voice roared contemptuously as the doors swung shut. Dusting her hands off, King stalked back to her Bar, a sneer on her androgynous face, the patrons all giving her a wide birth. Standing at 5 foot 9, King was a striking presence with a face that would be referred to as handsome rather than beautiful (though she herself would beg to differ). Her almost innate aptitude for extreme channelled violence, coupled with her skills in Muay Thai kickboxing, had served her well during her time at Southtown…so much so, she had attracted the attention of Mr Big, who had hired her on as a bodyguard/bouncer, promising her a “salary” that would allow her to pay for Jean’s medical bills…the only reason that King had accepted. It also garnered her the respect of many denizens

Chapter 15 10 minutes after returning from dropping the burglar off at the police station the Mask had told May and Misty to assemble in the living room, grabbing the phone and dialling Becky’s number in the process. “Becky, get over here now,” she barked into the receiver. A rather sleepy sounding voice mumbled something on the other end prompting the Mask to mutter “I don’t have time for this,” stick her arm into the receiver up to the shoulder and literally pull Becky into the living room via the phone lines. Getting over the disorientation from her digital journey impressively quickly, Becky blanched at the sight of the Mask’s face on Rally’s body but her shock at her sudden displacement appeared to be well under control. “All right ladies,” the Mask declared as she paced back and forth in front of May, Misty and Becky dressed in a Sherlock Holmes style Inverness cape, deerstalker hat with a meerschaum clay pipe in one hand, “New intel has come to light, intel that can blow

Chapter 1 Southtown – Bay Area, 2012 A.D. Near the Kyokugenryu Dojo “HYAI!!” The unconscious body of a would-be street fighter arced through the air, a bright red boot print covering the centre of his face and smacked into the asphalt of the pavement, rolling a few times before sliding to a boneless halt. “Ha Ha! Howd’ya like that!?” Yuri Sakazaki cheered, setting her kicking foot back down on the pavement. Yuri had her pride and her stint as a hostage of Mr Big…and learning that Mr Big had used her a such to blackmail her own father Takuma Sakazaki into becoming his henchman, simply because he (Big) was scared of him (Takuma) had left her with a desire that bordered on near obsession: that she would never be that helpless ever again. Throwing herself into her Kyokugenryu karate training that Takuma agreed to give her, she was becoming a pretty decent practitioner, despite only being taught the lowest bare bones level…though Takuma and her big brother Ryo would disagree; even

Prologue Nowhere. No-When Darkness. Could it have been a room? A chamber? A wide-open space? It was impossible to tell. The sole source of illumination was a softly glowing object that looked like someone had taken a large geode and cut the top off a la boiled egg to create a small but serviceable table. The glow was enough to show the object was there, but not much else. 3 figures detached from the darkness and grouped themselves around the geode, the glow highlighting their silhouettes, but not much else. “They have reached That point in time,” one of them spoke, the pitch and timbre of their voice identifying them as female. One of the other two spoke up, again identified as a female by their voice; “The crucial point…if they don’t succeed, we may never come to be. What do you recommend?” The third silhouette leant closer to the table. There was no need for it to speak to be recognised as female; the outline was blatantly obvious it was a She. She was, in fact

Chapter 2 Brian was sitting on the living room settee, trying to convince himself to calm down. It had been several hours since he and Samantha had had their almost customary argument, and several hours since Samantha had run off. This was, sadly, nothing new, but Samantha had now been missing for several hours or so longer than she had before, something that, although he would deny it, had Brian worried. He was in the state that many people can wind up in in these circumstances, worried that something may have happened to his sister but trying to remain calm and convincing himself otherwise. Brian, like his father, could be considered a typical average person; he didn’t care much for football, rugby or other forms of contact sports, so he didn’t have the blocky build of a player, but at the same time he was no athletic slouch. He could hold his own academically with grades in the high C to low B category. Similar to his younger sister, he had a somewhat unassuming appearance.

Chapter 1 This is the city. It could be any city, but its not. It’s this one. This is a typical average neighbourhood. Typical average people live here in typical average houses; typical average families with typical average jobs that they drive to in typical average cars. They have….for the most part… typical average possessions and hobbies. Let us examine two of these individuals: Mr and Mrs Winstead of 23 Acacia Drive in the Suburbs. Mr Winstead is 5 foot 10 in height, favours sleeveless jumpers, smokes a pipe and sports a moustache. A computer programmer by trade he works in the big corporation in the city centre, 30 minutes drive away. His wife is 5 foot exactly, bespectacled and works as a secretary for the manager of the local bank. Mr and Mrs Winstead have absolutely nothing to do with this story so they can be ignored from here on out. The main focus of this story is on their children; 17 year old Brian and 15 year old Samantha. Brian, although he does care for