T. N - Chapter 62

*Author's note: Well hello everyone! I've been bad, and put off writing this chapter for over a month now...whoops, guess I'm the inactive one now :P 

In this chapter, you'll see something called Aikido, which is a type of martial arts. The basic principle is using somebody's energy when trying to hit you and using it against them. "Sticky hands" is an actual technique that I've been trying to learn for awhile now.

Now back to the story!*

As soon as we landed safely on the ground, I quickly pushed off Heathcliff, and almost fell over as my legs collapse underneath me. Thankfully, I managed to shoot out my hands and break my fall instinctively. I stand back up, pain shooting up my right leg. I must have landed weirdly when I jumped into the helicopter earlier.

I started walking as fast as I could to where I approximated Charlie had landed. He had disappeared just beyond the hill I was on, so I couldn’t see him where I was. As soon as I reached the point right before the hill started to dip, I froze. A familiar monster truck was parked below, and just a few meters off from it was Charlie (still buckled into his seat, the idiot) and a mysterious woman in black. I quickly made the connection between the woman and the truck.

I immediately dropped to the ground partially to avoid being spotted, and partially to stop my leg from killing me. I carefully peered over the edge, and saw the woman and Charlie deep in conversation. From the distance, I couldn’t really see details, but Charlie’s mouth was wide open, so something stunned him. I was skeptical at first, considering that it doesn’t take much to astonish him (I’m just being blunt here), but there was a possibility that this was important. I started to inch forward to get a better look (and possibly rescue Charlie, if that was the case), when I felt someone tug sharply on my injured leg.

I wildly lashed out with my good leg, trying to get whomever it was to let go. My foot grazed something, but it wasn’t enough to hurt anybody. Now if it was Dennis, he would’ve said something by now (he’s been wary of my feet ever since I kicked him hard enough in the shin to give him a bruise that lasted a month). I doubted it was Kent or Heathcliff, as the former would usually pick me up in a more normal fashion while the latter would probably fall on me instead. I lashed out again, and my foot connected with the person’s kneecap.

The person let out a low grunt surprise and pain, and grabbed his knee. This gave me enough time to roll over, get up and ready myself. I quickly glanced over at Charlie and the woman down the hill, but they hadn’t looked up. Good. The last thing I needed was a skilled sharpshooter watching me with her gun.

The man had a sharp, fox-like face, and his eyes were constantly darting. He had a few days’ stubble over his cheeks. His body was solidly built, and I could tell he was at least a head taller than Dennis and probably a few pounds heavier too. He was dressed all in black, much like the woman. However, the front of his shirt was covered in chunks of some shiny (and probably hard) material, with enough gaps to allow movement around the torso while still being protected. He had a set of futuristic looking headphones on, with an eyepiece that covered one eye in green glass. If I may say so, he looked like someone straight out of G.I. Joe.

I tried to make my stance even as possible, but I could tell I favoured my right leg. By the way the man looked at me, I could tell he had noticed too. He immediately started lashing out with his feet, trying to make me fall over. I also wonder if it was out of revenge too. That kick I gave him would probably leave quite the mark for a while.

His moves were very offensive, trying to batter me down with blows. It was a common technique, especially of a person his size. Kyle would often use that technique on Dennis, who being a few years younger and smaller, was often quite defenseless. Thankfully, I learned from his mistakes.

Grandfather had taught me a version of Aikido, where you would constantly move with the opponent, always keeping your hands against the other person’s hands and arms. It was called “Sticky Hands,” a suitable name. As long as you did that, and kept up with the person, it was impossible for he or she to strike, as you would just redirect their energy elsewhere. It was difficult to learn, as it requires great concentration to stay with the other’s person “ki,” or energy. After some practices with Kyle, I managed to master it quickly. To this day, Kyle refuses to spar with me.

The man lunged at me, and I quickly shifted to apply my sticky hands to my opponent’s arms. He tried sweeping my feet out from under me, but I spin him so that he missed his mark. He tried punching me, and all I had to do was move my arm and he nearly lost his balance as his energy went forward without hitting anything.
To a bystander, it might've looked like we were dancing. To the man (I almost pitied him), it was a humiliating experience.
By the end of a few minutes, maybe only 3 or so, he was exhausted from expending so much energy towards useless hits. I was getting tired too, from concentrating on matching the man's moves and flow. That's when I got careless, and he managed to get one sweep of the leg in.
I was surprised to feel my legs suddenly disappear from under me, and I nearly didn't manage to break my fall as I was taught to. But somehow, instinct and training clicked, and I took the man down with me with one final kick in the same knee as before.
The man let out a sharp yelp, and started rolling down the hill. I slowly got up, my right leg shaking even more than it had been before. I brushed the dirt and grass off my clothes, and was about to make my way down the hill when I heard applause right behind me. Turning around, I see the woman in black, clapping.
"Nice work there, Theo. I'm sure he'll be teased later by the others about how he was beaten by a girl."

C.N. - chapter 61

These days, these days, I've clearly been the less active of us two authors on this blog K (oh yeah, and did I mention that I did not read your fantastic Christmas-special chapter until this very evening? Shame! Shame on me!), I suppose a chapter is way overdue on my part...

Wow does an aircraft fall fast when it runs out of fuel. It felt like being on the downhill part of a roller-coaster, I think my heart even moved upward a few millimeters in my chest. No matter how much I pulled the throttle back, I couldn't get the hovercraft to level in a steady decline. We were nosediving straight for the ground, in a plunge to death, like the classic scene in any action movie.
'AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!' Heathcliff screamed continuously in his high-pitched shriek, his arms locked on Theo in a tight embrace, who wasn't hugging him back.
'AH! AH! AH! AH! AH!' Dennis screamed in short staccatos. He and Heathcliff formed dynamic counterpoint with their screams. I was going to join them with a third rhythm when Mr. Kent remembered how we can get out of this situation.
'Wait! Don't panic! I remembered!' Mr. Kent snapped his fingers, pleased he had figured out how to save us.
'WELL WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!!! WHAT IS IT!!!' Theo screamed at him.
'The seats! Of course! How could I have forgotten about the seats!' Mr. Kent shouted, 'They're ejection seats! We're saved!'
'Ejection seats?' Theo shrilled incredulously.
'That's right, the seats here, they have rocket motors beneath them, open up the hatch there, Charlie! We'll blast straight out of this thing!' I recognized Mr. Kent's expression, he was lost in the excitement; it always happened to dad when he's watching football, he'd jump all over the living room hollering madly. Once, he even threw himself out of a window and frolicked for fifteen minutes in our fields (trampling twenty turnips) before he calmed back down.
I opened up the hatch, the air hit me like a football player (I know this feeling because dad signed me up for the school football team in eighth grade, it took a while for him to realize that I wasn't exactly football material, I'll talk about that story later, since what was happening right then was so exciting).
'Five people...only four seats.' Theo said something like that, since stealth mode was still on we could all hear her.
Heathcliff threw his entire self onto Theo and proclaimed, 'Strap me in, I shall be your protector.'
'Aw, how romantic.' Dennis remarked, easing for a moment the urgency of the situation.
'Shut up, Dennis.' Theo said, and reluctantly strapped herself and Heathcliff to her seat.
We all fastened the straps on our seats in no time, and I found out that our altitude was still one thousand feet, the hovercraft seemed to have gone into a last-pitch emergency landing mode, it was attempting to ride the air currents to cushion its fall.
The hatch of the hovercraft had opened completely, we were strapped into the seats in the cockpit, and altitude was at eight hundred feet. Nothing happened.
'Um, something is supposed to happen, right?' Theo asked edgily.
'Yes, something is supposed to happen indeed! Silly me, how could I have overlooked this point, I don't know how to eject the seats from the hovercraft!' Mr. Kent said with a slap to the head.
'You WHAT?' Theo shrieked.
Heathcliff and Dennis, who had stopped screaming when Mr. Kent remembered the ejection seats now went back to screaming in their respective rhythms.
'See, Mr. Wayne was the chief engineer of these machines,' Mr. Kent explained over the screams of Heathcliff and Dennis, 'I'm only the General President of the Justice League. I don't know all the intricate details of how these things operate.'
'Oh dear.' Theo closed her eyes. We were at six hundred feet.
Whether by chance or divine intervention, my eyes fell on a button on the upper left control panel, a red button that read 'eject'.
'Hey! I found an eject button! This can be it!' I said, 'I'll press it and see what happens.' I pressed the button, we were at five hundred feet.
Whoosh!
It was a blur.
I heard the sound of four pairs of rocket boosters igniting one after the other, and the floor of the cockpit gave away.
I heard everyone else scream, and then their voices were gone, drowned out by the howl of wind. The hovercraft continued to fall beneath my feet, but I was no longer falling with it. I felt suspended in midair. The parachute opened and a sharp tug on my seat straps forced half the air of my lungs.
I was in a light free fall. Gusts of wind violently shook the seat I was tied to, my heart was still a few millimeters above where it normally is, and I felt weightless.
The ground neared, a grassy field. The seat crashed right into the ground, and the impact made me regain some of my senses. I got a face-plant in the soil; it was a nice sensation, having my nose right up against the fresh smell of earth. I didn't fell broken, miraculously, just shaken.
The seat tipped sideways. I was suddenly looking at a pair of black army boots standing right in front of my eyes. I followed the boots upward, to legs in black leather tights, then a black sweater waist up, and finally I saw the face. Oh the face! It was impossible at first to believe, I was looking at the face of my favorite actress of all time: Vivien Leigh, in person.
But that is impossible, Vivien Leigh died in 1967, and I don't think she ever dressed like Catwoman. So who was I looking at?
Against arguably better judgement, I think I said something along the lines of, 'Are you Vivien Leigh?'
'Pfft,' Vivien Leigh said, 'I knew that one was coming. No I'm not, and I never understand where people get the idea to ask that question. Let's cut to the chase, I'm Laura Gable, I've been looking for your acquaintances for quite some time, and I must say, that was some nice flying you did back there.'

Happy New Year everyone!
We hope that you'll have much happiness through this new year, and that you'll continue to read this novel as we progress through 2013!

Cheers,

K and G

And We Bring You A Christmas Interruption...

Theo woke up inside of a room that looked rather like her room, except that outside, it was snowing. She had to rub her eyes and clean her glasses to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. The last thing she remembered was that she was in a helicopter…in the middle of summer. She flopped down on her bed, and sighed. “Hey author, or authors…you dragged me out of the story again, didn’t you?” she asked out loud to whoever was in control. No otherworldly voice spoke, but a knock did sound at her door.

She got up and opened the door, where she saw a familiar face. “Hi there…Theo, was it?” asked a boy with shockingly grey eyes. It was those eyes that helped Theo identify the mystery person.

“And you’re Dennis,” affirmed Theo. “You look slightly different.”

“Really?” he cocked his head to the side in thought. “I guess I do. My author never really defined my appearance the first few times he or she wrote the story. Now they started anew, so I guess I have a slightly different look.” He combed his black hair with his fingers absentmindedly and fixed the large magnifying glasses on his face. “It appears we’ve been whisked off to an alternate universe again. I wonder what for this time.”

“Do you know the date?” asked Theo. “I was in the middle of summer, and I don’t think it snows in the middle of 20-plus degrees weather.”

Dennis shook his head. “No idea.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to go find out for ourselves,” she replied, after a brief search around the room for a calendar. She and Dennis walked down the stairs where they found themselves in a large living room that didn’t belong to either of them.

“Hey, it’s you again!” said a voice, and they turned around to see a familiar girl with glasses and a boy accompanying her. “Do you remember me?”

T.N - Chapter 60

Well, I’m not sure if I would agree with the “Angry Magic School Bus” description, but I can work with it. I was hoping for a more realistic analogy rather than one taken from a children’s show, but it seemed to be the only really viable one at the moment.

After I got over my disbelief (I’ve had a weird past month…I don’t think much more can shock me for very long) I started debating with myself as to what the next course of action would be. I mean, this mystery person managed to destroy all of the men down there who were chasing after us. So quite possibly we didn’t need to run away and we could find out whom our new ally is. But then again, they or he or she or whatever was after us and gaining quite a bit of ground (which is usually not a good sign).

Finally, I came to a decision: better to be safe than sorry. I urged Charlie to keep us going as far away from the truck. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go,” I muttered, watching as the corpses of Kyle’s men started disappearing out of sight. I shuddered, and thought about how that easily could be us in a few seconds.

“Well then, out of the pot and into the fire,” said Dennis, trying his best to be lighthearted.

“I believe it’s out of the frying pan, not a pot,” replied Kent drily, and there was an awkward silence. Dennis started tapping his fingers on the window rhythmically, and Charlie started humming some obscure tune.

“Well either way, we’re screwed unless we lose that truck,” I said, and the others nodded their heads in agreement. I looked back, and the truck was still tailing behind us, slowly gaining on us. “Take a sharp turn,” I told Charlie.

He stopped humming and glanced over at me. “Why?”

“Since we’re a smaller aircraft, we should be able to outmaneuver something so bulky, correct?” I asked the others.

“Logically, yes,” replied Dennis, “but right now, logic isn’t really in our favour.”

I couldn’t argue with that, but it was worth a try. I turned to see that once again, Charlie wasn’t at the controls, but rather looking behind him. “You idiot, if you’re going to pilot, stay focused!” I leaned over and yanked the throttle towards me. The helicopter took a very sharp bank to the right, and I could hear sudden complaints as Heathcliff and Kent were flung onto Dennis.
"Watch what you're doing!" said Dennis, pushing the two off of him.
"Well maybe next time be more prepared," I said. I looked over at Charlie, who looked a little startled. He was back at the controls again.
I looked behind me, and saw that the truck was still behind us. "Ok, turn left this time," I said. Charlie did so, causing a pile-up in the backseat with Kent getting squashed this time. 
"Oh come on, stop it already," complained Dennis. 
"I said it out loud that time didn't I? And I'm doing it again in a few seconds." I couldn't help but smile at my brother's obvious discomfort. "Charlie, do another right." 
This time, Kent was able to hold onto the back of Charlie's seat to prevent himself from toppling over, but Heathcliff was still too intoxicated to comprehend my warning. I could hear a clunk as Dennis's head connected with the window, and a muffled "Oof!" as the two collided.
I looked behind me and giggled. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
"Bah," said Dennis, pouting childishly. "After all that, we better have lost the truck." He looked through the window, where to my surprise the truck still was. He sighed. "Looks like we're out of luck."
Of course, at that moment, the helicopter suddenly decided to drop. Several lights on the dashboard started flashing, and there was an insistent beeping noise. I screamed, and I'm sure I heard a yelp or two from the others.
I calmed myself down, as screaming wasn't going to help the situation. "What is that?" I asked.
"It appears we have run out of fuel," replied Kent. "I knew there was a problem with the engine type."
"What do you mean, you knew there was a problem? Haven't you used this before?"
"Actually, I did mean to say that this was a prototype..." mumbled Kent.
I could nearly not believe my ears. A prototype? "You're kidding, right?"
"Uh, no...we've been meaning to test it out the last few days, but with you and your trouble there was no time to. This is the first time it's been flown."
I leaned back and covered my eyes. Great, we were either going to die by falling or by the truck. Absolutely fantastic.

? - Chapter 59

Mr. Dragon's jaw sort of dropped. He had to close it with a hand after he realized it gaping wide open.
Although his face was still bloodied and badly disfigured, Mr. North laughed like he never did before. Mr Dragon shot out his chair, tipping it over in the process, and grabbed for Mr. North's throat. Mr. North, his hands tied to his chair, couldn't do anything about it.
Mr. Dragon strangled Mr. North for only a few seconds, and Mr. North's face was being drained of color, when Mr. Dragon's phone rang.
'Jesus H. Christ!' Mr. Dragon roared in his furious voice, his let go of Mr. North's neck and turned around to his desk to pick up the phone.
'Who the FUCK is this?' Mr. Dragon raged into the phone, his face swelling a brilliant red, emphasizing the swear word in the sentence, which is uncharacteristic of him, because he was was usually a morally principled evildoer who used swear words sparsely, preferring action over blowing steam.
'Woah, Dragon, it sounds like your head is exploding over there!' The voice in the receiver said.
'WHO IS THIS!' Mr. Dragon roared into the speaker.
'It's T-Rex, at your service.'
'Alligator? Is that you?'
'No, no, no, I'm not The Alligator anymore, that's so not a cool codename, I am now THE TYRANNOSAURUS REX!' Mr. T-Rex said excitedly.
Mr. Dragon covered up the receiver with his hand and snickered into his sleeve, barely containing his laughter. Finally collecting his composure, he spoke into the phone. 'You know, T-Rex, why don't you just settle this codename crisis with the title of Mr. Reptile, since you've been pretty keen on reptilian animal names for the past while.'
For a moment, Mr. T-Rex was delighted at the suggestion. 'Why that's a wonderful...hey, wait a minute, was that an insult?'
'Of course it is!' Mr. Dragon began to laugh right into the speaker, 'T-Rex! Really, in the twenty years we've known each other this has to be funniest name you've retched up thus far, no joke, absolutely not!' Mr. Dragon was in an unnatural fit of giggles and laughter, forgetting entirely that at the moment Mr. North was working on untying his hands from his chair with a splintered fingernail.
'YOU! YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU DAMN YOU YOU...DAMN HERETIC!' Mr. T-Rex protested in frustration, 'IT'S NOT FUNNY! THIS IS NO FUNNY MATTER!'
Mr. Dragon laughed harder. 'Oh my dear T-Rexy, you just made my day!' He slapped his knee in glee.
'IT'S NOT FUNNY I SAID!'
Mr. Dragon was hysterical. He was slamming his fist on his table.
'DAMN YOU IN THE NAME OF SATAN! DAMN YOU!' Mr. T-Rex shouted.
'HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!' Mr. Dragon howled, 'Save your holy damnation for the enemy, Mr. T-Rexy, as for me, I'm not worth your while.'
'Well, now, how about this!' Mr. T-Rex huffed indignantly, 'Just now, your men were machinegunned by an unidentified flying vehicle that resembles the Magic School Bus in a really bad mood, how's that huh? Do I have your attention now?!'
Mr. Dragon laughed some more and then the message began to recall some sense into him. Suddenly, he sat straight up into his chair. 'WHAT DID YOU SAY?' He roared into the speaker.
'Ha! You didn't pay attention, well, TOO BAD FOR YOU MR. DRAGON! Because thanks to your insensitivity, I'm not going to repeat what I just said, how about that, huh? HOW ABOUT THAT!!!'
'MR. T-FUCKING-REX! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY!' Mr. Dragon barked, now furious once again. In the back of his mind, he thought musingly, at this rate, I'll have to start taking anti-bipolar medication. I'm getting too old for this job.
'I'M NOT REPEATING WHAT I JUST SAID, SO HA!' Just like that, Mr. T-Rex slammed his end of the phone and the line went dead, leaving Mr. Dragon itching to skin the man alive when he finds him.
Mr. Dragon was about to leave his office to go after Mr. T-Rex and teach him a lesson when a powerful, solid force struck him at the back his his head, knocking him down flat onto the ground.
Decades of Ancient Eastern Martial Arts training had taught Mr. Dragon to detect such types of attacks at split second notice. The leg of a wooden chair shattered against his skull just as Mr. Dragon braced his cranium from the impact and spun back up to his feet and around to find himself face-to-face with Mr. North, freed from his bounds.
Circling each other for the second time in a week, the two ex-friends and current enemies were all set for round two of an martial arts duel, and this time, Mr. North was out for blood.

? - Chapter 58

The Dragon was on a conference call, and he was not at all pleased. “What do you mean, Mr. Vulture? Are you saying your ingenious plan had failed?” he asked.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” said Mr. Vulture’s voice, his accent thickened by agitation. “Just some complications arose…”

“Did the job get done?” asked the Dragon, his voice lowering and softening with every word.

“If you mean the targets were blown to pieces, then yes we did. But one of our people got unfortunately…apprehended.”

“By who?” asked the Dragon, with some surprise in his voice. “I watched these men run, and it seems quite interesting someone would’ve been able to catch them, especially if my…patron over there ensured that there was no one who would be comparable.”

“Well, from what I could glean from one of those who returned, it was one of the guests…they believe it was a male companion of Theo North…”

“Someone with Theo, hmm?” asked the Dragon, mostly to himself. He leaned back in his chair.

“Yes, someone with her,” said Mr. Vulture, his voice revealing his relief at not being the target of the Dragon’s infamous rage. “I can’t say for certain, but do you have anybody in mind?”

The Dragon thought for a moment, spinning his knife on his desk absentmindedly. He closed his eyes and thought back to all the people who would be capable of doing something so He suddenly jolted up, and stopped the knife with the blade pointed towards him. “Was this mystery man dark haired and have a very lean build? And was he whistling to himself?” he asked.

There was some muttering on Mr. Vulture’s side of the line as he spoke to his men, and then he got back on the line. “Yes, to the first two, and they think he was humming one of those popular Western songs.”

The Dragon let out a short bark of a laugh, and leaned back in his chair again. “I thought so,” he said. He smiled, and dialed some numbers into his phone.

“Thought what?” asked Mr. Vulture, slightly confused at the sudden change in attitude. “What?”

“What now, Mr. Dragon?” asked a gruff voice. “You always call for me at the exact wrong times.”

“I apologize Mr. Wolf,” said the Dragon rather sincerely, ignoring Vulture’s questions. “What exactly are you doing?”

There was a whimper in the background, which was quickly silenced by something. Or someone. “Nothing much, just in the middle of tying some loose ends.” There was a muffled shriek of pain, and the Dragon grimaced.

“Could you maybe do that somewhere else? I would rather speak to you when there aren’t any distracting noises in the background,” he said.

“Just give me a second,” said Mr. Wolf. He said something in a foreign language, spoken to quickly to be identified, and then a gunshot rung out, punctuating his sentence. There was a silence, and then the Dragon cleared his throat and spoke.

“Finished, I see.”

“Yes, indeed. So what do you want me to do? I don’t have all day.”

“I’d like for you to gather as much information as you can on the activities and whereabouts of everyone in the North household, all the workers and Justice League men as well. I also want you to keep especially close tabs on Theo North and Charlie North. Vulture here will help you, am I correct?”

“Yes, of course, whatever you need,” said Mr. Vulture, speaking for the first time.

“Why do you want me to do this?” asked Mr. Wolf suspiciously. “Ms. Scorpion would’ve been better for this job as a young woman, or even that bastard Shark with all his ties in that world. What do you want with me, a human trafficker?”

“Let’s just say I trust you with this more than anyone else. As you’ve displayed earlier, you’re quite efficient at getting things done. Plus, you know how to convince people quick enough for my needs,” said the Dragon.

“How much am I getting reimbursed for? I have a lot of work to do you know…”

“However much you’re satisfied with, but that’s after you do the job. Got it?” asked the Dragon. “You either take the job or don’t. Better choose.”

There was a quiet lull in the conversation as Wolf pondered, and the Dragon could almost hear Mr. Wolf lick his lips at the possibility of the reward. “Fine, got it.”

“Great,” said the Dragon. Just before Mr. Wolf could hang up, the Dragon said “This little deal will stay just between the 3 of us, ok? Don’t seek help from the others, don’t say a word about your activities or there may be some…consequences.” Before the other 2 could reply, he hung up on them.

There was a scuffling noise behind him, and some coughing. “You surely have a way with people,” said Damian North in a dry voice. “Manipulating them to your every need.”

The Dragon spun his chair around to face him. “You’re not any better,” he said. “The Justice League…how would you have gotten to the top and gain the trust of every single man?”

“At least I didn’t step over my family to do so, not like you,” Damian hissed, and he could tell he had stepped on a sore spot as the Dragon narrowed his eyes. Foolishly, he decided to continue with it. “Your son was thoroughly neglected, oppressed and was denied the love that you should’ve given him. And Laura, poor sweet Laura, she tried her best to help you, but you closed her off. What else could she do but leave you?”

“You know nothing, Damian! Nothing!” shouted the Dragon.

“I beg to differ,” replied Damian, and a little bit of a smile crept up onto his sore face. “Laura says hi, and hopes you’re doing well.”

Sorry I've been kind of AWOL everybody! I've been doing no writing lately, as I've been busy with life and everything. Here's a long chapter to make up for it, and I hope to get writing all my novels again soon :D