Darkstar

DARKSTAR GETS PWNED

dedicated to Katherine.

The video began with a vaguely annoying but unfortunately catchy tune–all jangles and bells with a background “wonk wonk” that might have been a kazoo. From the sides and corners, violet color rushed toward the center to meet in an exploding starburst, the last lingers of black screen bursting away.

Amber letters faded in to glow against the violet for a long moment–

DARKSTAR GETS PWNED

–before being replaced with: Ha ha, just kidding. The screen changed to a black background with a miniaturized screenshot of the video to come and the words: Not that this h4x01 is laughing.

The miniature video expanded to fill the screen. There was the icon of a pause button in the middle of the video screen. There was a click sound as the button depressed.

The video began to play. Starting with a closeup view of a broad shallow bowl of food.

“What is with the upside-down hat-bowls? I’ve been seeing them everywhere lately. It’s kind of… oh, sh.” The video jostled before focusing on something to the left of the person holding the camera.

An amused snort. “I don’t know what’s goin’ on, viewers, but maybe we’re about to get lucky. Let’s observe.”

The video zoomed in on a two person table currently occupied by a handsome dark haired man wearing sunglasses indoors while eating a grilled cheese sandwich–one of the cafe’s specialties. There was a half-closed laptop shoved off to the right of his placemat, the screen dark.

A stringy haired man was passing by the left-side of the table. His arm was still stretched a bit behind him to where his fingers were letting go of the USB flash drive he’d stuck into the laptop’s open USB port.

“Uh oh,” the video recorder sounded gleeful for the drama to come. “Hope I don’t have to talk to the cops.”

Then faster than the camera’s frame speed could keep up, the diner dropped his sandwich and snatched the criminal’s hand. “What are you doing?”

It was a blur interlaced with editor provided snapshots that showed the diner twisting the other man’s hand and jerking upward with enough force to snap the criminal’s forearm into a grotesque angle. “Wah!

“Oh shit,” the video recorder breathed. “A meta.”

Other than that quick shout–“Wah!“–the criminal was surprisingly quiet. He was staring at his mangled limb with white-rimmed eyes while air visibly puffed over his lips, causing the paling flesh to quiver.

The diner was still holding the criminal’s hand, glaring at him. He pulled the USB flash drive out of his laptop and held it up. “What is this?”

“I-duh-buh…”

With a cold sneer, the diner shook the criminal’s hand, eliciting a loud shriek. “Don’t piss me off. What did you do to my computer?”

“I… I’m sorry. I… It was a bad ducky. Your shit… your shit’s fucked, man. Please. I’m sorry.”

“Bad ducky?”–A violet pulse of light–“Bad ducky!”–built around the diner’s body. Pulse, pulse, pulse, pumping out more light until he appeared to be covered by a two-inch thick digital filter. His tee shirt when he stood clearly displayed the words: “The Golden Rule: Treat me good” beneath the violet light. His clothes were clearly visible, but his face–it had taken on a familiar gaussian blur.

“Darkstar!” the video recorder gasped out quietly. The video shook a moment before steadying, though the angle had changed slightly. The rims of the video recorder’s glass of water and glass of soda became visible, as did a good expanse of white tablecloth.

The standing Darkstar and the man he restrained were still fully in view. The criminal’s face had been transformed into a caricature by his absolute terror. A spreading wetness covered the crotch and thighs of his jeans. His mouth opened and closed, but only formless sounds came out. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down with his gulps for air. He stared into Darkstar’s face as though incapable of looking away.

He’s so beautiful,” the person recording the video breathed. “I can feel him. Oh God, I can feel him. He’s in my skin. My lungs. My hair. How did I ever live without this? He’s so beautiful.”

Darkstar was frowning at the man he held. “Do not fall apart on me here. What the fuck did you do to my computer? Smash and grab or just smash? Huh?” He shook the man, making him cry out before going limp. Darkstar gave him an extra shake before dropping him. “Dammit. He’s out of it.”

Darkstar sat back down and opened the laptop. The dark screen had been replaced by a revolving Laughing Man icon from the Ghost In the Shell anime. He tapped a few keys on the keyboard.

“Dammit!” Darkstar closed the laptop lid with an audible “thwick” sound.

He sat there for a long moment, then reached for his half-empty glass of soda. He chewed on the straw end twice before draining the glass in a single suck.

Darkstar stood up and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. Arrows and hearts appeared on the screen to point out the outline of his muscles. ‘MARRY ME‘ tracked across the screen quickly as he tossed money onto the table.

Darkstar tucked the laptop under his arm and strode out of the cafe, stepping on the criminal’s leg in passing. There was the sound of bone breaking. He didn’t look back.

As the camera stealthily lifted up to track Darkstar’s exit, the cafe was revealed to be half full. The patrons were staring after him in mute awe.

After he left the building, a standing waitress dropped into an available chair. She clutched the collar of her shirt with one hand. “He was in my section. I didn’t even know.”

A violet blur streaked across the sky, disappearing into the distance.

The video ended with violet words on a black screen: Where Darkstar goes the Darksters follow.

=THE END=


*

“Darkstar Gets Pwned” is part of the Darkstar the Death God stories.  Events split when the Kanon-verse Darkstar leaves his universe after the events in All That Remain.

As he left the Kanon-verse, there were many possibilities of where he could go and how he could end up. Some versions died in attempting to live and others found the wonder of being normal, but in Darkstar the Death God… things get a bit meta.

One of the events that causes Kanon-Darkstar’s story to split into Darkstar the Death God is the events of “Darkstar Gets Pwned.” Because he was recorded with his face exposed, Darkstar’s secret identity is revealed and the media does not hesitate to dig up every secret they can find out about him. Including the events in “Qu’est-ce que c’est,” which is an alternate version of the events in the canon story “Black Friday”, and is the point where Kanon-Vereint was twisted and warped until he had absolutely no hope of ever being the superhero he dreamed of.

In canon, Sandra exerted her psionic ability on Vereint multiple times before he Manifested and gained his mental safeguards. During “Black Friday,” which featured much lesser events than took place in the Kanon-verse, Sandra used her ability on Vereint to keep him from panicking.

She has wiped his mental self several times in the past.

In a cut scene from Allies & Enemies–it was deemed to be filler and I okayed the cut to shorten the manuscript length–Melissa is terrorized by seeing Sandra lost to her grief. In that moment, she doesn’t see the kindly older woman that’s been her adopted grandmother. No, she sees something twisted and dark.

One of the main differences between the canon and Kanon universe is Sandra. Depending on how she was raised, we see a different Vereint.

Even in the Variants, the mother-son/mother-daughter construct is very important in shaping their personalities. William and Simon began from the same egg and sperm yet are completely different mentally–in William’s universe his father left when he was a toddler, while Simon never met his father. Both had the same mother, though she was caught up in different circumstances and the result is William, who remembers his mother with fondness and love, and Simon, who remembers her with an ever churning mixture of love, regret, and distress.

Even the Melissa’s come with their own differences. In the Panic Pure universe, she is the prey of the Arianetta Killer (the same man that attacks Danny). In From Diamond to Coal she is William’s first Great Love, and her life was cut short by tragedy*. And in the Kanon-verse, she never received the boost in metability that canon Melissa gets (from being close to Vereint and Warrick in her formative years), but she still tries her best to be a hero–just a different one than Blue Devil.

And of course, canon Melissa is out there hurtling through the universe, contaminating every world she comes across. She is their Prometheus.

While Damian Prince cuts a swath of destruction.

In Abstract -z- apologies for concurrence for no other post could be let out.

I’m having a hard time meeting anyone’s eyes. I feel strange and out of sorts. I’ve got reddish-purple bruises appearing and disappearing at my finger joints. Like I hold my mug in my left hand and for hours later my fingers look like they’ve got liver spots.

I did fine for years without medication. Really I did.

I mean sure, in that time period I probably had more “Here’s money if you let me marry her” proposals than the average person, but it was Nevada! A lot of Mormon guys take their sister-wives cruising. Like, “See, they’re happy and alive. You would be too.”

It didn’t take me long to realize that polygamist Mormons are not like the Amish. Sure, the ladies’ outfits were similar, but he was dressed like Colonel Sanders.

I was fine without meds for years. The problem is that when you start thinking you need them, it’s too late. You’re already off the rails, with imaginary car door slams and an ever encroaching sense that They are out to get you. Whether it’s the police or the tax man or some stranger busting in–the fear is real. And the cause is a lack of vital nutrient in the brain.

Sometimes I have bad days. And even if I’m up, it’s still a bad day because my mood is outside of my control. Angry, empathetic, enthusiastic–they shouldn’t be anything. Except sometimes they’re all too much.

You start talking about something you really love and enjoy. Everyone’s interested and onboard. Until suddenly they’re not or you’re not and it’s awkward and weird but you don’t know how to leave the room.

This guy, he keeps going on about garbage–“The problem’s already been solved, but I still think we should have used #4 switches. I know they’re not going to switch over to my idea–did you see what I did there? :wink:”–but they could at least…”–but you feel bad for him. He’s showing emotions and making gestures to emphasize his points, he’s distraught and you’re trapped in his sphere of nonsense because you can’t get up the wherewithal to hurt his feelings in even the tiniest of ways. Even though there’s a million other things to talk about.

And all those little annoyances that come with a ramped up sense of empathy translate to a bucket load of irritation. Which on top of a runaway sense of enthusiasm, leaves very little room for thoughtfulness. Instead it becomes snapped out responses and an assumption that other people are following the conversation happening in my head. Who knows, maybe some people are.

What it all comes down to is that I fell apart and I never put myself back together. Now I’m lost without a clue but I’m trying.


I’ve been writing more Darkstar stuff lately. “Just Another Titanic Tuesday” features the Darkstar from the Kanon universe.

His life started darker than canon-Vereint’s, or at least that’s the way it’s become. It seems to fit though. There had to be more than no-Warrick for him to conquer all of Megacity and be okay with millions of thralls.

Darkstar tried so hard to be a hero, but it was doomed to failure. It couldn’t work in a world where Sandra Georges was sentenced to life in a penitentiary for criminally insane metahumans.

“Black Friday” was a different event for Darkstar. And it’s made him both darker and more desperate for any happiness he can get.

I’m making “Just Another Titanic Tuesday” into a story game. It will also be a book, but I think the game is a nice bonus.



JATT: King of the World
We can’t all be the king of the world. Sometimes it’s like candy: It melts away in the rain.

Just Another Titanic Tuesday

Chapter One: King of the world

Somewhere out there, past the universe where everything went good and right, there’s the universe where Blue Ice died before they ever had a chance to meet. And in that universe, Starburst became Darkstar and there was never anyone that he loved enough to be Vereint for.

It never felt as though he lost track of himself. It was more as if he’d never existed at all.

Darkstar wallowed in the adulation of his thralls. They would do anything for him. But it was empty, because they didn’t really love him. They loved whatever image his power impressed upon them, whatever unmatchable deity they dared to liken him to.

He’d existed in something like contentment for years. He’d been the king of the world and nothing could bring him down.

Until there was a rip in spacetime and his alternate universe self was looking at him with tragic eyes. For a moment, he’d fully understood why other people found him beautiful. Then that other-Vereint–that not-Darkstar–had opened his mouth: “When are you going to get off your ass, dickbag? People are fucking dying here and you’re playing king of the motherfucking world. Stop being a shithead! Help us. Now.”

And because it was some other universe version of himself making the demand, he’d stepped up and helped.

Because of him multiple worlds got saved. And he felt like shit, or maybe he felt like a shithead; either way, he found himself feeling dissatisfied with his life.

He didn’t blame that other Vereint. If he had a love to protect, he’d move heaven and hell too. It was just the emptiness he hated, the realization that he’d been living an empty life full of empty gestures.

It was at his lowest point that he decided enough was enough.

If that other-Vereint could come to his world, what stopped him from moving to another? It wasn’t like he had to fear attack–if anyone managed to take him out, he figured they deserved the honor–and there wasn’t anyone he felt like giving a goodbye to.

Vereint was driven by the growing sense of purpose to contact Dr. Zee. He knew the superscientist could be trusted–the man was Charm-addled to the point of cruel humor–and he was undeniably brilliant. There was a reason the League of Superheroes went to him with their biggest problems despite the hefty price he attached to his services.

On the day he contacted Dr. Zee and explained what he wanted, Vereint took an hour long walk in a park first. Far away from Megacity and its oh-so loving citizens, he welcomed the anonymity of a charcoal gray hoodie, a black baseball cap, and a pair of dark sunglasses.

He was just one more person amongst a crowd of people as he crossed streets and entered the open gate of the pretty park with its duck pond and rolling green hills. He strolled the paved paths and purchased a hotdog from a white aproned vendor. Nobody pointed and stared, he could pretend that he was anyone; and with the last bite of hotdog he finalized his decision.

Let’s blow this popsicle stand, he thought.

And something that felt a lot like hope passed through his chest.

/END

Title: Caspian Dukes and His Best Friend’s Husband
Author: Harper Kingsley
World: Heroes & Villains
Frame set: Allies & Enemies, “Good Times”
Characters: Caspian Dukes, Vereint Georges, Warrick Tobias, Melissa Kim
Pairings: Vereint Georges/Warrick Tobias
Genre: friendship, superhero, meta
Summary: Vereint and Caspian go see a movie together.

“I’ll have to remember that,” Caspian said.

“Lock it, put it in your pocket. Now we’ve gotta run if we want to make it on time.” Vereint lifted the shopping bags out of the cart with one hand and caught Caspian’s sleeve with the other. “Come on.”

Caspian followed him out onto the street. The movie theater was only a few blocks from the store.

* * *

They were nearly alone in the theater. It was nice not to be packed tight with a bunch of strangers. They were able to enjoy the movie as though they were alone.

“That was a great movie,” Vereint said as they left. He dropped his cup in the garbage with a slosh of melty ice. He shook the last few pieces of popcorn into his mouth before crumpling the bag and throwing it away.

“This was a good idea,” Caspian said agreeably.

“Let’s go pick up that stuff and take a taxi home,” Vereint said. “Unless there’s something else you want to do?”

Caspian shrugged. “I’m good. Maybe we should bring something back for Warrick and the kid?”

Vereint thought. There were some bananas at home and plenty of chocolate sauce. “We could stop off for some ice cream. Banana splits sound really good.”

“Score!” Caspian grinned.

They walked to the locker Vereint had rented. They’d had a good time and Vereint felt like the night had been a success.

Which was when the man with the gun stepped out of the alley. He wore a ballcap low over his eyes and had pulled his scarf up over the lower half of his face. “Gimme all your money,” he growled.

“Really?” Caspian asked.

Vereint looked around. They were the only ones in this corner of the street. He saw a group of laughing people disappear into a restaurant, a slender girl reaching out to touch a Chinese lantern in passing. They were alone with the wannabe mugger.

If they had been two different people this would have been a terrifying situation.

“I said, gimme all your money,” the mugger barked aggressively.

“Do you know who I am?” Caspian asked.

“I don’t give a fuck,” the mugger said. “Give me the money or I start blasting.”

Caspian stepped in front of Vereint, a rather gentlemanly action. “Look, no one wants to get shot tonight, but no one wants to hand over their wallet either. At the same time, I don’t think you would like what would happen if you pulled that trigger.”

“Oh yeah, what are you going to do?” the mugger asked. His finger tightened on the trigger.

Caspian was remarkably graceful as he lunged forward, his hand slapping the mugger’s arm with a deceptive lightness that resulted in the loud crack! of the ulna breaking. Caspian kept moving forward, his right leg twisting around the would-be mugger’s to bring him down to the ground.

The man screamed and clutched his broken arm, which flopped limply. Vereint took one look before grimacing and averting his eyes. That arm looked disturbingly gross.

“You’re hurting me! You’re hurting me!” the man screamed, wriggling in Caspian’s firm grip. “Fuck you, man. You’re hurting me!”

“You tried to shoot me,” Caspian said. “You’re lucky all you got was a broken arm.”

“Fuck you! Fuck you!”

“Real nice,” Caspian said, holding the guy with one hands while pulling his phone out of his pocket with the other. “Good thing there’s no kids around or I might have to break your other arm. Now quiet down before I get testy and really hurt you.”

“You can’t do this to me. I have rights.”

“Shut up.” Caspian held the phone to his ear. “Yeah, hi, hello, this is Caspian Dukes and I’ve got a downed mugger near the corner of Lotus and Sprout Street. Can you come pick him up? Ha, yeah. Thanks.”

Caspian stuck his phone back in his pocket and smirked at the would-be mugger. “And that’s that. Someone will be by to pick you up shortly.” He lightly flicked the back of the man’s head when he started cursing in response.

Vereint glanced at his watch. “About how long is this going to be?”

“They said it would be about eight or ten minutes,” Caspian said. “I usually have priority, but this is just a mugger, not a supervillain. I don’t think they’re going to show up with lights blazing.”

“Right.” Vereint hooked his thumb down the street. “I’m going to go to the locker. That way we can leave as soon as they pick this guy up. That okay with you?”

“Yeah, that’s cool,” Caspian said.

“Okay. Then I’ll be over there,” Vereint said. “Don’t leave without me.”

Caspian waved at him. He was completely comfortably crouching next to the supine mugger. Never mind that he was in civilian clothes, he looked ready to burst into action at any moment. It brought a nostalgic smile to Vereint’s lips–back when he’d been a superhero fanboy, pictures of Caspian Dukes had been on his collectible list. To get a picture of Caspian dressed like a normal guy hovering over a baddie would have blown teenaged Vereint’s mind. He would have framed the print and hung it on his bedroom wall.

Even though he was an adult, there was a part of him that would always be a product of that boy’s life. And Caspian had been one of young-Vereint’s heroes.

TBC…

*

Check out “Allies & Enemies” at: All Romance Ebooks, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, BookStrand, Goodreads, iTunes, Kobo, Less Than Three Press, Smashwords. — superhero, urban fantasy, mm, drama. Darkstar x Blue Ice.

*

And for your enjoyment:

“2NE1: Can’t Nobody”