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Tales from Silicon City: Dark Omens

By Psion

All Rights Reserved

Silicon City, central Californian metropolis and home to all manner of metabeings; some heroes, others just trying to live regular lives in spite of having powers, others still became villains either by thought or deed. Yet for all participants, this was neither a good nor bad thing, it was merely a thing much like brushing one's teeth or cleaning their house. No one in this particular dance saw it as anything more then that. The same could not be said for some of the spectators...

The Hedonists were a cult formed during the Aphrodite City Crisis, depraved voyeurs that worshipped the perverse puppet masters responsible for the devastation that consumed the city in upstate New York. After the entities known as the Brothers were destroyed and the city finally reclaimed, the cult went underground and fled westward. Settling in Silicon City with a number of their deities' "holy" relics, the cult's leader Loco rallied his followers with a proclaimed vision. If they could successfully recreate the conditions that consumed Aphrodite City, their beloved patrons would return. To that end, the most talented members of the order studied genetics, biochemistry, and engineering. Not enough to become particularly accomplished in any discipline but skilled enough that they stood an unfortunately good chance of creating the goddesses they craved, horrifically fatal lab accidents not withstanding. At least that's the gist Rivetgal managed to gather from the files recovered during a raid of a major Hedonist cell...

Standing in an observation room in the lower levels of the DSA regional headquarters situated in downtown Silicon City, the armored Golden Labrador Retriever watched as an unmasked Hedonist sat patiently at a table in the interrogation room next door, staring intently at the one-way mirror the All-American Inventor watched him behind. A second later Dozer ambled his way into the room, his hooves clicking heavily against the observation room tile. The big, well-rounded gray-fur donkey definitely cut an unusual appearance for a super soldier but Rivetgal knew him too well to judge by first appearances. Standing a few inches taller then her and almost twice as wide due to a pronounced beer gut given to him by a nanite-enhanced metabolism, hard green eyes looked back at her as the canine gadgeteer regarded him with a quick glance. Were it not for his super-strength and a handful of other "tank-like" superpowers, Dozer would have probably been laughed out of the DSA. Rivetgal shook her head, she never considered herself so vain that she assumed certain physical appearances were a requirement for being a hero. Besides, it wasn't like she didn't find something fetching about a soft-bodied male... But that door was closed, the canine was busy seeing someone else and she strongly suspected that so was he. Besides, none of that particularly pertained to the matter at hand.

"So what's this guy's story?" Dozer asked, oblivious to Rivetgal's thoughts.

Turning back to the fox Hedonist still twiddling his thumbs in the next room, Rivetgal shook her head. "To the rest of the cult, his name is Aaron Sellers. However, it appears those Hedonist robes are nothing but pockets, this was found on him after we booked him during the cult raid." She began, handing the donkey a leather wallet.

The ex-Army super soldier flipped the wallet open and read the government issue ID inside, his eyebrows raised as he made a note of the FBI badge. "Special Agent Frank Miller, that almost sounds as fake as his other name."

"That's what we thought, but after calling up the local Bureau office it appears that isn't the case. Agent Frank Miller was assigned to go undercover and infiltrate the Hedonist cult with his partner Agent Nathan Brewer. Unfortunately there lies a small problem." Rivetgal explained. Seeing her coworker regard her quizzically and motion for her to continue, she sighed. "When we raided the cult's hideout in that abandoned school, we successfully captured and detained about twenty members. Agent Brewer is not one of them; unfortunately neither is Loco or the four remaining cultists that stand to give us the most trouble; all members of Loco's inner circle known as the Creators. Apparently Loco has four mad scientists and an equally insane hedge wizard responsible for pushing forward his grand vision of recreating what happened in Aphrodite City. While we have Leroy, the one responsible for the attempted kidnapping of five local women to inject them with blackmarket super soldier serum, in custody, we still haven't found Nocturn, Machine Wolf, Kay-Nein, and..." Rivetgal paused as she double-checked the file. "And Voodoo the Omniscient."

"Modest-sounding fellow isn't he? Is he the group's magic-user?" Dozer quipped with no small amount of dark sarcasm. As one of the DSA agents that was sent to Aphrodite City he was not particularly happy to encounter any reminders of that unpleasant assignment so soon.

"According to the profile he's a pathological kiss ass that doesn't really have a single original thought in his own head, perfect for being one of Loco's lieutenants. Oddly enough though he's not the hedge wizard, though he certainly has a background in chemistry."

"So basically we still have a lot of work to do? Damn, I was hoping to be able to take some time off with Black Vespa this weekend."

"Considering what the Hedonists did in Aphrodite City, I think we'll all be due for some vacation when this is over." Rivetgal replied. While having not been to Aphrodite City herself during the battle to take it back, she had read the reports. Evidence linked the Hedonists to multiple cases of violent crime within Aphrodite City; home invasion, assault with a deadly weapon, and other heinous transgressions that made even the hardened super-cop shudder slightly. A storm was brewing, a storm that would probably tax all of the heroes of Silicon City emotionally, registered and vigilante alike. The only real saving grace any of them had was that the storm would be tempered not so much by the skill and tenacity of the state's champions, but by the Hedonists' own shortsighted stupidity...

Pacific Cove, a sleepy little seaside town situated along the Californian coast about halfway between San Francisco and Los Angeles along the state's legendary Route 1. The smell of the sea salt spray hung heavy in the air as the lapping surf of the ocean echoed throughout the small community. Pacific Cove's population barely numbered more then a hundred souls during the off-season and was little more then a small, weathered vacation town for college students spending spring break away from the big, expensive, touristy spots. As it was currently in the off-season, no one really noticed five males move into one of the vacation homes normally reserved for visiting fraternities.

Inside the weather-beaten vacation duplex, the five Hedonists sat around an unclean dining room table in dire need of some polish and held an impromptu meeting. No one was smiling, everyone was wearing their most sullen expression after being forcibly ejected from Silicon City, their delicate foothold in the state was becoming more difficult to maintain by the hour. Loco had left for the other cells scattered up and down the West Coast, recruiting and preparing them for an eventual move into Silicon City. That was currently not going to happen, the DSA raid had wiped out what was supposed to be the main cell for the order, that was supposed to be the crown jewel for the architects of a second coming of Aphrodite City. Now all that remained of their most promising chapter was the five of them, four Creators of the inner circle and one able initiate. The odds were firmly stacked against them but their new surroundings looked promising, a nice little town where every day was bikini weather. Now to just get set up, take a deep breath, and figure out how to salvage this situation.

The night was spent accessing the basement and unloading equipment before the neighbors noticed the three pickup trucks crammed full of stuff in the morning. The vehicles' presence and the cultists' sudden arrival could be easily explained away, why the trucks were packed with tools, scientific equipment, and boxes upon boxes full of books with unsettling occult symbols could not. The four Creators worked to set up and partition their workshop in the basement while Acolyte Bronislaw Paxton was given the unenviable task of sprucing up the rest of the house. Unlived in for several months out of the year and poorly maintained by the fraternity that owned it, the vacation duplex and the grounds around it bore heavy signs of neglect. From the overgrown, almost hayfield-like, front and back lawns as well as the cracks in the driveway, to the state of the interior... the kitchen in particular was poised to give deep-cover FBI Agent Nathan "Bronislaw Paxton" Brewer nightmares that rivaled anything else he had done on this assignment and that was saying something given the vile nature of the Hedonists. Oh well, no rest for the wicked, he decided with a reluctant sigh as he found a vacuum cleaner and started making the downstairs appear presentable. Carpets were cleaned though there was a certain funky smell to the living room that he couldn't quite place while the upstairs bathroom finally looked like it wouldn't give him an infection just by walking through it, now came the kitchen... Gritting his teeth, Bronislaw got to work scrubbing counters and large appliances that had been abused by the culinary experiments of fraternity brothers who shouldn't be allowed within five miles of a stove. Fraternity brothers that had a lot in common with the four idiots downstairs now that he thought about it.

Considering some of the fairly delicate things each of them was trained to tinker with, the basement laboratory-workshop the four males finally finished assembling hardly looked like a safe, let alone professional, workspace for any of their respective crafts. Kay-Nein's enchantment table was a cluttered mess of material components, spell books, and guides for consulting with creatures that even wizards infinitely more powerful then him, like England's Lady Arcana, gave a wide berth. But then again, to the relief of the world around him, the black and gray striped wolf discovered that conjuration and summoning creatures from beyond space and time was far too much work to do correctly. It was much easier to take advantage of simple rubes by slapping together a few cheap parlor tricks and lazily crafted spells.

Sitting cross-legged across from an elemental foundry, the blue-eyed wolf tossed in a few scraps of brass before reflexively running his fingers through his short black hair. Closing his eyes and exhaling, he started chanting the spells that activated the arcane runes of heat and artifice carved into the haphazardly arranged stones and brought the foundry to life. The molten brass levitated into a ball suspended by pure mystical energy and began to take shape, forging itself into an ornately shaped bracer. While the others with their precious technology were still trying to decide what they wanted and plan it out, Kay already knew what he was going to do for the next stage of their scheme. A single bracer enchanted with a simple spell known as The Warrior's Blessing, the only hard part was linking the bracer to an amulet he'd be assembling some time tomorrow. A simple and straightforward idea but there was a certain kind of elegance in that.

Outside the partition set up to keep Kay's arcane regents from permeating through the shared workspace and mucking up the delicate electronics the other three depended on, Machine Wolf sat at his designated workbench, twirling a pencil between his fingers and stared blankly at a pad of notebook paper in front of him. Despite his name, not even a hundredth of a single percent of his body was artificial; the Australian Hedonist's nickname stemmed from his specialization in cybernetics, particularly low-end nanite based ones. His other nickname, Momma's Boy, stemmed from a fixation with maternal figures that his rivals frequently bullied him for back when he was an acolyte; yet they quickly changed their tune when Loco saw his technical skills and anointed him as one of the inner circle. Right now though, he had a challenge to design a heroine for the next stage of their plan and zero ideas for what he wanted to do. He thought about talking to one of the others but no, they were too jealous of his brilliance to take his ideas seriously so instead he continued to stare blankly at the notebook, daring the blank pages to say something to him. An idea was bound to come to him sooner or later and it would be a good one, they always were good ones no matter what anyone else said.

Nocturn sat at his workbench, the only one of the three techheads who had his space meticulously organized. If there was going to be a mishap in their lab, it wouldn't be on his side, everything from his tools on the wall to the shared machines placed near the center of the workspace were set up to his exacting standards. Unfortunately the laboratory was still disgusting, probably the fault of the other three, but there was nothing to be done about it. His perfect little engineering workshop was gone, the equipment would have been lost as well were it not for a few pulled strings in the evidence departments of the DSA and the SCPD. Unlike the others though, he had an idea for the next phase. A perfect idea, it was impossible to be wrong, it was his idea after all. Drawing in a notebook, he began to sketch out a rough diagram. It would be impossible to do it precisely until he knew what measurements he was working with, but he could assemble the power source and some of the other key components while he hammered out the particulars.

Voodoo had a grin on his face like he was thinking of a funny joke as the domestic canine chaotically finished setting up his chemistry equipment. He knew Nocturn and Momma's Boy would think of something involving mechanical technology and Kay would have some sort of magical doodad and they would at least be effective. But he had no talent for magic and didn't really care much for it or mechanical technology; things like power armor, gadgets, and spells tend to spoil the fun or worse, opened up super heroics to people who shouldn't be heroes, people who looked terrible in spandex. No... the only way to create a proper heroine was through chemistry. The right combination of drugs was the only way to achieve the desired result. With his chemistry set tested and working correctly, Voodoo turned to a notebook full of drug recipes and started reading, perhaps a tiger would be a suitable test subject.

In the duplex above, Paxton had finished cleaning the kitchen to the point where he felt like he could cook in it without vomiting, he would have to make a note that beer and grape jelly didn't mix. He wasn't sure what the frats were thinking when they tried that particular combination but the results of that experiment were definitely all over the counter and the stove. With the cleaning done, he found a small closet with a HVAC vent positioned directly above the Hedonist laboratory and shut himself inside. Pulling a small notepad out of his pocket, he wrote down everything he could hear going on in the room below...

"Arrgh, I can't think of anything!" Machine Wolf growled as he buried his face in his hands, black hair hanging like a long mop as he shook his head in frustration.

"What's the matter Momma's Boy, can't come up something that would impress our glorious leader Lo-" Voodoo began with a laugh, his voice dripping with a distinct southern twang and inciting his cohort to nearly pull his hair out.

"Crikey! Will you just shut the fuck up Voodoo? Loco's not here and kissing his arse isn't going to turn the tables on the DSA for kicking us out of Silicon City! Besides, we all know you're going to pull some unimaginative, half-baked idea out of your arse while the rest of us work our balls off to come up with something that impresses Loco." The Australian-American deviant snarled at his cohort.

Watching through the grates above at the two man-children staring daggers at each other, Paxton observed the fight that was seconds from breaking out when a strange thing happened. Nocturn rose up, pulled out a massive leather-bound book out from underneath a workbench, and set it down on Machine Wolf's workbench. The FBI spy had never seen this book before and judging by the puzzled expression on the cyberneticist's face, neither had he.

Without waiting for a question, the spindly fruit bat started talking as he walked back to his corner of the workshop. "If you really are starved for ideas, read that book and see if anything strikes your fancy. Either way those passages were penned by The Brothers themselves, written about a fantastic world that inspired the changes they attempted to make to Aphrodite City so if you value your position in the inner circle, do NOT use the book as coaster for your beer." Nocturn explained as he walked away.

Wolf rolled his eyes, parroting the brown haired bat's pompous prattle with his hand, but opened the hefty tome to a random page and started reading softly all the same. "Alright let's see what the Great Ones have for us chosen mortals... A chicken with a gun that encases people with eggs... a rat that secretes bioweapons... and nothing cool like a heroine with the power of lullabies.... Hmmm, lullabies..." The lupine cultist mused thoughtfully as he finished reading. Closing the book and carefully setting it aside, he started to go to work in earnest, a mad glint in his eye as the wolf started jotting down notes and writing down lines of code for the colony of medical nanites he was laboriously culturing in a magnetic containment unit.

From his position above, Paxton held his breath and wrote for a little while longer before returning to his other duties. The others would eventually come up and laugh at him, cleaning and maintaining the chapter house was "woman's work" to be done by acolytes if a woman wasn't present but it helped the bear think and focus his mind off what he had witnessed. At a glance it looked like the most innocent thing a Hedonist could be doing but he knew it was only a precursor of things to come...

Their initial projects underway, the Creators returned back upstairs as Bronishaw continued to finish up tidying up. The four males ignored him as they each took a seat around the now cleaner dining room table and ordered pizza before arguing about what to do next.

"I say we start looking for our heroines right now!" Voodoo argued, always the horndog. One had to wonder if his urge to kiss ass was pathological or a trained response for getting some tail.

"And I say we still need to start drafting super villains first!" Nocturn shot back, always the pragmatic one. "What's the point of having superheroes if they don't have anyone to fight? What are they going to do, solve real world problems?" The slender, short bat laughed with a flash of teeth.

"How are we going to handle the supervillains? Each of us design one same as the heroines?" Kay asked, getting a groan from Machine Wolf.

"That's fine... except for the fact that Voodoo and I are the only ones that will have enough material left over after we're finished with our heroines. You two going to leech off us like you normally do?" The lupine mad scientist asked with a scowl. It was comments like this that reminded Paxton that the lines between the four cultists were redrawn on an almost hourly basis. Gods help the opposition if these idiots actually tried to seriously work together.

Voodoo held up his hands and shook his head. "Alright, where do y'all think we're going to get us some supervillains? Can't hire any super-mercs, even the ones that would look at our offer are out of our price range."

"And we can't go spring some from prison, even a minimal security prison is beyond our abilities... Do you have any ideas Paxton?" Nocturn mused, causing the whole table to look at their sole acolyte, staring at him manically.

At this point the bear felt a chill down his spine. He could play dumb or he could try to answer the question; one placed part of the blame for whatever happened next on him, the other invited them to come up with something potentially worse on their own. Both choices sucked horse balls but a choice had to be made nonetheless. "Well, honored brothers..." He began, putting on the persona of the slavish groupie. "Didn't Loco tell us the story of how the Great Ones chose and imbued five ordinary mortals? There are many frats and sororities here that disenfranchised members for scandalous things, perhaps we could use this?" He suggested, silently hoping that whoever they picked out with his suggestion, the two fledgling supervillains would be stupid enough to make damage control an easy fix. Oblivious to his inner thoughts, the four Hedonists looked at each other, smiling. They liked the idea; they liked it a lot...

Finding promising candidates for the "game" was regretfully not Paxton's job, the Creators kept him busy with finishing fixing up the house and performing menial tasks in the laboratory while the others were out. While it prevented him from sneaking a message out to his handlers to let them know his assignment was on the express train to disaster city, the time in the lab left largely unsupervised was fruitful in a number of terrifying ways. Even though much of it was outside of his skill set, reading the lab notes on each Hedonist's project made him painfully aware of how advanced certain members of the cult were becoming at essentially manufacturing low-powered metabeings for their own amusement. And then there was the thick leather book that Nocturn had shown Machine Wolf...

Even reading a few pages of the book was enough to cause the deep-cover cop to question his grip on realty. What he was reading was so stupidly outlandish it couldn't possibly work, not even the published comics were this absurd. It couldn't be real and yet... Paxton made up his mind right there, first sign of this world bleeding into his; he was taking his family to his father's old hunting cabin. If Aphrodite City were any indication of how things would go down, such an event would destroy civilization as he knew it. Meanwhile, his housemates were having more success then he'd be comfortable knowing...

Finding the villains turned out to be easier then expected, the college organizations that owned vacation homes in Pacific Cove made no attempts to hide who controlled their property. Afterwards it was a simple matter of searching for any recent scandals reported on the Internet before they found two promising candidates that actually lived fairly close by, ones they had decided to call Love Bites and Devastator.

Devastator was a recently expelled fraternity brother that the Hedonists took one look at and smiled. His personality and the reasons why he was expelled brought back memories of the glorious villains the Brothers created for Aphrodite City, a male who knew what he wanted and was not afraid of doing whatever it took to get it. There were some concerns about the authenticity of his credentials, these days' false claims and so-called social crusaders made it just that much harder to find a good sociopath. However, upon discovering that his two victims were both in the middle of a long stay at the local ICU with multiple broken bones, there were no more doubts, this was the one.

Love Bites was a sorority sister with a history as sinister as it was mysterious, one of those individuals that people always find something unsettling and "off" about but no one knew why; no one that felt like talking about it that was. Stories ranged from her being a fitness nut with a level of pathological cruelty that would get most males either executed or imprisoned for life to being some sort of sultry blackmailing temptress. The truth was probably something relatively ordinary by comparison but didn't change the most important fact; there was something about this vixen that normal people found disturbing. Unfortunately for Pacific Cove and the surrounding area; when normal people say "disturbing," Hedonists say "exciting." Needless to say, her large brown-furred breasts were not the only reason why the Hedonists couldn't wait to recruit her; now to find suitable heroines and figure out how to recruit and empower their villainous candidates.

Finding suitable heroines and arranging a potential "first encounter" scenario like the battle between Gonzales and the mighty Shield turned out to be harder then the four cultists realized. Their search took them deep into another town further inland, to the tranquil community of Sunnyvale. A largely agricultural town surrounded by miles of vineyards and orchards halfway between Pacific Cove and Silicon City, Sunnyvale was a classic, shining example of Small Town USA and Main Street... the perfect stage for the battles that would ensue. Keeping the fights out of Pacific Cove would afford the cell a safe place to hide if their project ever attracted the attention of the DSA or ever-watchful vigilantes. The Hedonists' stay in the town wasn't long but it was long enough, a stop at the local diner during the lunchtime rush revealed four promising candidates for the pending games. But their time would have to come later, now the four needed to finish creating their villains...

The moment he saw who the Hedonist priests brought in, Paxton knew the two strangers were trouble. He did his best to avoid laughing at their chosen names and the quickness that they took to them. Devastator was an intimidating moniker if a bit generic while Love Bites was just... stupid really. Still, he knew with a glance that neither of these people were the sort that he could say that to their faces if he valued breathing.

Devastator was a male timber wolf of roughly average height and fairly athletic build, long gray hair tied back in a quick ponytail and dressed in a pair of denim jeans, sneakers, and a worn t-shirt for some Greek fraternity the bear didn't recognize. He also wore the smug "the rules don't apply to me" smile of a casual narcissist, his blue eyes regarding the other potential supervillain with an interest that no sane male would consider polite. Unfortunately Love Bites seemed to only have eyes for Paxton...

Love Bites was an exceptionally well-curved vixen with a seemingly perpetual sultry smile, a walking stereotype if Paxton ever saw one. Like Devastator, she was reasonably athletic, if a bit top-heavy. Brown fur, black hair, and pale green eyes, LB's body language was typical of someone who was used to charming her way into getting what she wanted. Yet there was a strange air that hung around her, something was off about her that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Something that made the way she looked at him all the more unsettling. The four Hedonist creators sat on the worn second-hand sofa and watched the two hopefuls expectantly. Finally the vixen broke the silence.

"So you are the Hedonists everyone is looking for." Love Bites began, as much a statement of fact as a slight barb. Like most people, Paxton imagined, the vixen likely expected the five of them to look a lot less ordinary. Hell, out of the five of them, Bron was probably the oldest and most likely to look like he secretly belonged to a cult. The rest were probably only slightly older then Devastator, still young enough to pass for one of the college crowd and mentally just as mature.

Without waiting for anyone to answer her rhetorical question, LB continued. "Since I can guess why I'm here, the fact that I'm here with... Him makes it obvious already." She began, shooting a glare at Devastator who promptly snarled back at her. "So let's skip to the reason why both of us are giving you the time of day, the superpowers. What are they, when are we getting them, and what exactly do you want us to do with them?" The vixen asked, Bron noticing that Devastator seemed to have recanted his original nonverbal disapproval. The tone of this meeting was changing quickly.

Clearly oblivious to the fact that this was ceasing to be an interview and becoming a negotiation and slightly annoyed that "super boobs" wasn't going to play along and be simple eye candy, Voodoo made a big show of clearing his throat. "Well then sugah, to answer your last question, we're gonna make you a star like the Brothers made the Aphrodite Ten. You're gonna to be so famous the whole nation... no, the whole world is gonna to be talking about you..."

"What powers are we going to have?" LB repeated.

"You're both gonna be so infamous, so unspeakably nefarious, that the Brothers themselves will come back from the dead and lead us into-" Voodoo continued on, now clearly ignoring the vixen.

"THE FUCK ARE OUR POWERS GOING TO BE?" Apparently even Devastator could only tolerate so much of the Hedonists' usual blathering, effortlessly redirecting any displeasure he had with Love Bites towards the four idiots presently wasting his time.

Voodoo blinked, clearly taken aback by the wolf frat's sudden outburst. LB's sighed and massaged the bridge of her nose. "Just so we're all on the same page, you're talking about the same five villains who either died or disappeared so completely that even Lady Arcana can't find them right? I think I can speak for both of us when I say that is not a career we want to model ours after. In that case, either get to the meat of why we should be interested in your offer or we're going to walk out that door and have a nice chat with Pacific Cove's sheriff about the five squatters that half the state of California is looking for." LB shot back, the conversation had acquired a "back and forth" quality that a poorly written BDSM story could only envy.

Paxton fought to keep his expression unreadable during the conversation. What a surprise, he thought sarcastically; the two potential supervillains had their own ideas that didn't perfectly mesh with the Hedonists own plans. Perhaps there was hope for the world after all. At least there was until Nocturn took over the discussion.

"Voodoo is a chemist that can concoct a number of different of physically augmenting serums and compounds. On the other side of me is Machine Wolf, a cyberneticist that can construct and implant various nanite colonies into your body, giving you most of the benefits of cybernetics without the unsightly mess of mechanical implants." The bat explained; Devastator and LB's growing impatience with Voodoo's pretentious prattle was infectious. On the positive, both of their candidates seemed intrigued by the Australian's specialty.

Frowning and looking visibly put off, Voodoo crossed his arms with an audible "Humph!" Paxton didn't need to be psychic to tell whom the Dixieland canine wanted to work on. The others ignored the sulking dog, pushing along until they came to an agreement. Finally, the Hedonists were able to coax the unformed supervillains into their basement laboratory and sedate them long enough to begin the operation.

"Why did y'all shut me out and take theirs and Momma's Boy's side like that?" The suavely dressed chemist snarled at the others once Devastator and Love Bites were both appropriately sedated and strapped to makeshift operating tables.

"Isn't giving superpowers to people we can't control a really good way to get our arms ripped off?" Paxton asked innocently, if the bear weren't so concerned with maintaining his cover he would have bitch-slapped that damn dog already. Could he possibly make it any easier for him to spy and undermine the operation from the inside?

"The acolyte is right, we already have enough plates spinning in the air as it is. Besides, the Brothers trusted their villains to use their own initiative. Maybe we can gain something by doing the same." Nocturn argued as Machine Wolf siphoned off some nanomatter and injected it into each of his patients.

"This is about as much as I can give each of them. I can program the colonies to self-replicate and expand over time once we get the basics set up though." The Aussie explained to the others as Voodoo stormed off to his corner of the workshop.

A second later, the male returned, brandishing a chemical spray gun loaded with heaven only knew what. The others barely had time to dive out of the way before Voodoo sprayed down both villains with his own homemade mixture, a cocktail of drugs seeping through their pores. As the other males rose up and realized what Voodoo had done... this time Paxton did hit the other male, with one of Nocturn's wrenches. The southerly canine barely had time to turn around before the other Hedonists tackled him and pressed him against the wall. In an instant they were all arguing, accusations and insults flowing like a river as Devastator and Love Bites were momentarily forgotten amidst cries of "what the hell were you thinking?" Yet behind them, the two volunteers were changing...

In the midst of what could have easily been mistaken for a reenactment of a Three Stooges skit, Kay-Nein turned his head towards the two villains. What he saw made him stare and shake his head to make sure he wasn't imagining things. When it was obvious that he wasn't, he turned to the others and shouted. The fight momentarily forgotten, the five Hedonists stopped and stared at the unexpected results of their handiwork.

During the scuffle it was revealed that Voodoo's chemicals were a stock physical augmentation serum, originally enhancing strength, agility, and endurance. Instead of causing a fatal reaction within the host as the others had feared, the sudden injection of foreign chemicals had caused the nascent nano-colonies to develop an interesting adaptation. Both LB and Devastator's skin and fur had developed a squishy, elastic quality similar to rubber or soft plastics. As the two test subjects stirred, Machine Wolf took a risk and accessed the computer monitoring the nanomachines. Reading the lines of code, he shook his head in amazement. "I don't believe it... I don't believe it. Not only are they not dead but I didn't even know nanites could do this..." The mad nanotechnician exclaimed as Love Bites finished coming around.

While both patients were restrained to prevent accidental injury, the restraints might as well have not been there for how effortlessly Love Bites slide out of them. The brown "rubber" vixen twisted and wiggled her way to freedom with a rubbery squeak of her joints. Her eyes went wide at the sound and promptly caused the female to look at her hands. She stared at her elastic body for what felt like an eternity, her expression an unreadable mixture of emotions as LB tried to do the first things that came to her mind. Paxton quietly went back to being the covert observer and made a quick note of her apparent abilities and what she tested first. Initial experimentation revealed she could transform back into her original form, contort her limbs in normally impossible positions, stretch limbs including her jaw and tongue much to Paxton's silent unease, and inflate herself to a still unknown extent. Quickly puffing up before shrinking back down to her normal figure, the vixen's face fixed into an ecstatic smile as she closed her eyes and slipped a hand down towards her crotch. "Oh yessssssss. Yes, yes, yes, this is everything I could have ever wanted." She crowed, eliciting a mixture of negative reactions from her benefactors. Apparently they didn't like it when the woman was pleased.

"What the fuck did you guys do to me?" Devastator yelled, decidedly less thrilled then his female cohort. Slipping out of his binds with a bit more effort then Love Bites, unused to his new elastic figure, the rubbery wolf started to regard the Hedonists with a feral snarl before his stomach began to swell up like a balloon. Hands reflexively placed on his inflated gut, Devastator's cheeks puffed up in prelude to a riotous belch. One punctuated by a large gout of flame that scorched the cinder blocks on the far wall a permanent shade of black. As the five Hedonists scrambled to put out the burning partition, Devastator blinked in disbelief then grinned evilly. "On second thought, I think I can get used to this." He recanted, his eyes twinkling maliciously as he was clearly already thinking of a good first test of his abilities...

A little while later...

The Tau Chi Beta fraternity was a typical college fraternity in Silicon City; loud, boisterous, and more then a little obnoxious. Yet even they had something resembling a heart despite their flaws, taking the evening off to deliver flowers and cards to two females hospitalized by an expelled brother before heading off to enjoy a timeless frat tradition, bar-hopping. Subsequently no one was around the chapter house as Devastator flattened and squeezed his now elastic body under the locked door and snuck into his old frat house. Puffing back out and clad in his new black bodysuit studded with white biohazard symbols, he rose to his feet and looked around with a malicious grin on his face. Time to see if the rest of the guys still kept the beer where he remembered before the fireworks began....

The kegs were in the basement exactly where he remembered them being, a stack of slivery metal five gallon drums in a large refrigerator tucked away in the corner. Tearing the spigot off and lifting the first keg above his head, the elastic wolf put the heavy container to his lips and chugged. His rubbery stomach bloated outward as he finished the first cask, sloshing with fluid like a water balloon. An entire five gallons of beer and not even a slight buzz, he mused and poked his inflated belly with a small measure of disappointment. Shrugging, he helped himself to another keg and another after that, his rubbery body bloating and becoming increasingly spherical as he guzzled down one keg after another, tossing empties in a random pile behind him. Finally starting to get the buzz he craved once finishing with the kegs, the stretchy supervillain stumbled and waddled his way back upstairs, his gut reaching to his knees as it audibly sloshing about with beer.

Waddling about like a giant rubber ball with stubby legs, rubber boots gently thumping against the cool tile floor, Devastator navigated the frat house's underused kitchen as he made his way towards the refrigerator. Leaning forward and lying on his stomach like a giant waterbed, the fledgling supervillain quickly emptied the appliance of anything edible. Most of it was leftover pizza but there was still plenty of bottled beer for him to finish off, chugging the last of the frat's alcohol supply to wash down the taste of stale pizza. Devastator suppressed a minor belch, grateful he learned to get his firebreath ability under control, as he finished eating. Rolling back up to his feet, the wolf had started to wobble and lumber his way towards the living room when he heard someone opening the front door. Perhaps there was more food in the house after all...

The early arrivals recognized Devastator as quickly as he identified them, four scrubs that could never hold their liquor as well as the rest of the fraternity and always ending up leaving early. They on the other hand clearly didn't expect to see their former pledge brother, particularly not bloated up like a cartoon character imitating a giant water balloon and audibly sloshing around with fluid. By the time it occurred to any of them that they should do something, the abusive bully already was. Inhaling deeply, he sucked in and gulped down the nearest frat brother, eyes rolling up towards the ceiling as he felt the tasty morsel squirm and struggle all the way down into his gullet. The remaining three promptly turned to run but it was no use. Devastator inhaled a second time, lifting all three males off their feet and sucking them towards a gaping maw that had no trouble fitting the entire trio in at once. The fledgling supervillain took a moment to savor the sensation, three tasty furs swallowed down to their shoulders, arms flailing in his mouth as they tried to reach for anything that they could use to pull themselves out of his nightmarishly elastic maw. Once he had his fill of giving them false hope, the voracious wolf ended the game with one final gulp and sent them diving into his interior swimming pool full of beer. Yeah, he could really get used to this...

The deed done, Devastator turned his attention to the gaseous pressures building inside of his body. Time to sign his initials on this place. With a mighty "Frrrbbht!" the rubber wolf farted a plume of methane into the living room, soon filling the space with a foul-smelling, low-hanging fog. "Damn, I'm amazing." He coughed as his eyes began to water slightly, still impressed with his capacity for gross behavior despite his discomfort.

Waddling out, smiling as he felt the swallowed frat boys swimming around in a massive pool of beer and stale leftovers, the empowered bully turned his head back towards the open doorway behind him. One extraordinary "BURRRRRP!" later, he belched a fireball into the living room. The resulting combination of intense heat and concentrated methane sent the entire building up in a whoosh of flame. Rolling himself up into a ball, the contemptible Devastator bounced away. By the time the fire department arrived with the wail of sirens and the flash of red lights, California's newest supervillain was long gone. Time for him to see what Love Bites was up to then have a good long talk with her about something that had been on his mind since their argument with those Hedonist losers...

"Getting a serious spare tire there Barrage Balloon, what the hell have you been eating?" Love Bites greeted as the two elastic-fantastic supervillains met in an abandoned lot on the outskirts of Pacific Cove just as the sun began to rise on a new day. The "spare tire" the vixen was referring to were the final remains of his night-time rampage, to Devastator's surprise his binge had not turned completely into vile gases he could use for later, instead his flat chest had ballooned into a big, pillowy beer belly that hung against his knees like a flabby apron. Yet also to his surprise, the wolf found himself fond of his fleshy expansion. It was a trophy, proof of his ruthless exploits, and a growing testament to his capacity for evil. And besides, it wasn't like the rubbery vixen had room to talk.

"Speak for yourself Thunder Love, I could ask you the same question." The ex-frat insulted back with a proud pat of his bulging gut. The vixen had definitely been working on developing a more hourglass physique to counter-balance her original top-heavy appearance. Thighs thicker then a grown male's torso swayed like a metronome as she took a daring step towards him, smiling with a faint "well you got me there" expression on her face before her expression turned serious once more.

"Are you going to try and insult me or is there an actual reason why we're meeting without the idiots?" Love Bites rebutted while compressing her gains and shrinking down to her original size.

Devastator sighed and sucked in his gut, like that his chest was flat again. He wasn't sure how long either of them was going to keep up that act, he wasn't that savvy in the sciences but even he knew there was only so many times one could compact something before it stopped being effective, but then again it wasn't like he wouldn't have to keep this up for very long if the two of them were on the same wavelength on at least one topic. "I've been thinking. Yeah haha, dangerous I know. But I've been thinking about what you said back when we were arguing with Fancy Pants, is it really true that all the villains from Aphrodite City are dead?"

The vixen nodded. "Dead or vanished without a trace, no one can find even that backstabber Red Storm. Like I told that ass-kissing punk, that's hardly the kind of career that inspires people. Why do you ask?" She replied, running a hand down her hip, clearly liked having to hide the proof of her exploits as much as he did. Still, the Hedonists were notorious for their displeasure with the relative diversity among actual superbeings... at least the two of them wouldn't have to put up with their crap for long if this conversation was going where Devastator thought it was going.

Her cohort in crime stared at her for a minute before deciding to just say what was on his mind. "Look, it doesn't take a genius to figure out you don't trust me. Frankly the feeling's mutual anyway. That said, I still trust you more then those four jokers and their groupie and I'd bet my powers you feel the same way too." He began, jerking his thumb in the direction of the Hedonists' hideout.

The vixen nodded with a sinister grin, gesturing for him to continue; so far it appeared they were on the same page. "So, what do you say to this idea; we play along with whatever they have planned for the moment but once things start going bad, we turn on them and wipe them out?" He asked, waiting for her response.

Love Bites rubbed her chin and thought it over with a sinister flick of her bushy tail. "Mmmm, I like the sound of this idea. Two things though; first is that... well even you should realize that the Hedonists are going to demand a healthy share of our loot so do you agree to keep most of what we find between the two of us?"

Devastator actually hadn't thought of that but now that she pointed out he could easily see himself getting shortchanged by that. He nodded in agreement. "Sounds fair, I guess I can trust you that much."

"You should, neither of us will gain anything by double-crossing the other if this goes the way Aphrodite City did." The vixen replied as she thought something else over. "I think I can find us some acid-proof containers for hiding our share of the spoils."

"Why acid-proof?"

"So we can hide them in the one place those idiots shouldn't be crazy enough to go digging through, our guts. Don't worry, I heard of a smuggler that uses them all the time for slipping contraband across the border, I should be able to get us enough to store a nice mattress fund in case these idiots don't know how to be proper criminal masterminds." She replied causally.

Devastator nodded, that made sense to him. Considering how much he just ate tonight, a couple little plastic containers weren't going to encumber him that much. Still, there was the other thing she mentioned. "Okay then, what's the second thing?"

"When and not if we have to turn on them I want the groupie, Paxton I think his name was, for myself. While the others are left for the police, I want to take him with me."

"Why?" He asked suspiciously. This sounded like a bad idea.

"Because I think he's cute. What? A girl's got to have at least one vice." Love Bites protested angrily.

The wolf shook his head, that still sounded like a bad idea but if that is what she wanted then fine, it wasn't like they were going to stay being partners once they left these Hedonist nutjobs hung out to dry. "Alright, alright, so we got a deal then?"

The vixen smiled and nodded. They had a deal and shook on it, now it was time for the two of them to get some sleep before their patrons decided to send them on another and probably less exciting caper then tonight's exploits...