Titans: Chapter Two *HF*
By DarkWolf
Titans
Chapter Two – Stir Crazy
Monday
NYC
Khalid Hunter slammed the door shut on his truck and fired up the engine. “Stupid corporate suits…” he muttered. Khalid couldn’t believe they wanted him to change his image. You’re gaining popularity, they told him. Studies show that some changes in your image would draw in some more consumers. Rat bastards! Music isn’t about consumers, it’s about emotion. It’s about life; it’s about art! It is never about consumers!
Khalid muttered under his breath as he headed away from the corporate building and toward the airport. What a way to start a day. He looked at his watch, and saw that it was 9:45 a.m. Jeez. He had to be in Dallas in at least eight hours, and knowing the airports, he’d be late. At least the concert wasn’t until 8:00 p.m. Two nights in Dallas, two in Houston, then one in San Antonio and he’d be done with this stupid three-month tour. Well… it wasn’t that stupid. At least he was getting to perform, but the damn schedule was so rigorous. He’d be glad when it was over and he could redirect his attention to writing music and to Hellfire Court business.
***
BHC Grounds
Abby Gannon, a.k.a. Rogue, the Black Queen of the Black Hellfire Club, sat in her office watching a TV monitor. Playing on that TV was Justin’s 2:00 a.m. training exercise, and Abby watched intently, her head resting on her hand. This was the second time she had watched it, and she was split between admiration for Justin’s skill, and concern over the fact that he was coughing up blood. She had not forgotten the incident at the meeting two weeks ago, nor had she forgotten the time it happened since, when Justin had been working on his car (it was his Plymouth or something like that) and suddenly collapsed and began coughing up blood on the bumper.
He never would admit that he was sick, much to her aggravation. Nor would he admit that he was having nightmares. Her bedroom suite occupied the other half of the floor his suite did, and well, when a man with 400 lbs of ultra dense muscle mass fell off his bed and onto the floor, you felt it. And heard. She would have to do something about that.
On top of Justin’s health problems, she had a lot of members who were going stir crazy. DFA, AquaPyro, Draco, Storm, and Rune had all said something about the lack of missions, and the lack of excitement. They easily grew tired of all the politics they were required to handle. She had to admit, the HTR just wasn’t doing it anymore. She could use a mission herself.
***
Voriah Cayne, a.k.a. DarkFallenAngel (or DFA for short), sat in the classroom at the BHC Dragonfire Academy. It was just her, Aquapyro, Chastity, and Epyon, and Draco. Collectively they were known as Dragonfire. They were training to be the best of the best, and to take their place in the Courts when necessary. For now, they acted as an elite strike force for the BHC.
Just not today. Today, she was listening to Kyle Eccelston (that’s AquaPyro), give his lecture on the social and economical ramifications of the Second World War on smaller, poorer countries like Shmazmabodia. At least she thought he had said Shmazmabodia. She never could keep them little pissant countries straight. Needless to say, she was bored. The Dragonfire team had not been out in almost a month. The last time they had gone out, it was to stop some whacko from blowing up a building (which, as she was told, held pro-mutant politicians that should be protected). It had been a cakewalk.
What she wanted was a challenge. She wanted some excitement. She wanted to do anything but sit here and learn about SHMAZMA-FREAKING-BODIA! She dropped her head on her desk with a loud thud and groaned.
***
Nate Sommers scribbled notes down on a paper, and shoved them into a drawer in his desk. He was running late. Dragonfire would be finishing their classes in about… thirty seconds, and he was supposed to run them through their paces in the HTR today.
Life had been pretty slow lately. The world was being quiet for once, and the Inner and Outer Courts were getting much needed training time, as was Dragonfire. A mission would be nice, but there was something to be said for monotony. For instance, you could say, “Hey, I still have my head on shoulders!” or “At least my ass isn’t being handed to me in a Ziploc bag.”
Still. A mission would be nice.
END CHAPTER TWO
<-- FOOTER BEGIN HERE -->
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Sic Temper Tyrannus
DarkWolf, TBK - "When somebody loved me, everything was beautiful..."
a.k.a. Rexy
High Commander Monkey
True King of Siam
President of Everything
The Animal Man
Un Caballero
'Qui'st'l'caballo, amigo.
Harb/Cronos isn't the ONLY one who can qoute Latin!