New Bait, Fresh Kills! Enter Our Heroes in a Post-Modern Dump of a Conundrum!

It had been a full month since Bartholomew had returned, well, to existence. His story was a long and complicated one, and he'd rather not dwell too much on at the moment. He had found existing again to be a relief, though it did have it's complications. He hadn't fully come to terms that nothing of his previous life had actually happened. None of his loved ones remembered him, and the impact of his movement was completely lost.  The most post-apocalyptic aspect of modern Earth, however, was how unlively everything was. The colors seemed darker and more drab from what he remembered things being, and the people more rude and uncaring, only into themselves and their technology. The most horrifying realization, however, was the death of disco. Now it was simply nothing more then an outdated idea that was mocked, the music barely being referenced or listened to. It hurt his soul to know his favorite genre had been pushed to the side. Maybe that's why everything went to crap, because of people's dismissive attitude towards the genre.

Currently, while trying to figure out just how much he had missed while gone, he had taken himself to Staten Island. He had been shown a grand battle that had transpired a few years ago that destroyed most of New York, and he had heard various things about the event since returning back to the world of the "not erased from the time-stream".  Jumping out a portal out of the "Groove Central" that he had just revisited, he began to explore the modern city. It seemed that most of the damage had been reversed, various houses and structures being able to be seen as he strolled around the streets. He received many an odd glances from them as he strutted from street to street with his hands in his pockets and head lowered. At first he thought he may of seemed suspicious, staring at the neighborhoods and lowering himself, but he soon realized it was his sizable afro and clothing that may him stick out. At least, that's what he could gather from those pointing and laughing at him.  

Finding a place by himself and onlooking the ocean, he sat and pondered his discoveries. How could he help this world? What was his place now? Maybe his otherworldly mentors didn't know how he was supposed to bring back peace, just that he had to. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm down from the stresses of his superhero work, and began humming some Kool and the Gang in an attempt to ease his worries away.
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MEANWHILE...Only a few hundred miles away, there happened to be one of the world's largest garbage dump in America. Those few hundred miles were easily traversed by the remnants of the groove energy created by portal of Bartholomew. Rips in the fabric of reality often have a cost, and it seemed this pulse of power had made it's course to various bits and pieces of metal and abandoned technology. The bits of energy waved in the air, something going nowhere before fizzing out, while some made it's new home in the "junk". An especially large amount made it's way into a rusty and beat up toaster, which rattled about, until falling over to the bottom of a pile of trash as for the first time in decades, a piece of toast sprung out of the toaster. Soon other pieces of trash started moving by shuffling about, surrounding the toaster.

It appeared that Bartholomew wasn't the only one who returned to some sort of existence.

As a teenage Monster Hunter traveling around in a van loaded with what was probably illegal items for a person his age; Seth had found that getting around toll booths was a challenge. You see, Seth was a teenage runaway with a stolen credit card, a stolen van, and a learners permit. Dealing with toll booths? Not exactly his idea of a good time. Plus, there was the matter of getting gas. Luckily, a stolen life size doll he could leave in the passenger seat seemed to be enough for most gas station attendants. Not so much for the toll booth operators. He had used his mothers credit card to survive for so long. Strangely enough, the money didn't seem to be running out. Instead, it seemed to be in infinite supply. This was strange considering he was fairly certain his mother was dead. But... No time to dwell on such matters.

Going through back roads and alley ways was a good way to avoid toll booths, and sometimes he could even find oddities to battle. He felt for the sword that he had stolen from a vampire not long ago. The leather bound handle was cold, and he certainly didn't like having the weapon. It made him feel uneasy. Whatever it was though, it had some magic apparently. The blade drew in light; and forced cold into the air. It was nice on summer days like this.

Seth arrived in New York city. The big apple had a large bite taken out of it a few years back, but Seth was never really all that interested in the historical aspects of it. He needed to find something to do. Vigilante work seemed his best bet. But that was apparently getting sparse with all the heroes.

Seth stumbled upon a man who looked like he came straight from the seventies. Seth, in a feeble attempt not to laugh, drove up beside him.

He rolled down the window on his van. "Hey bro, you need a ride?"

"Thanks dude for the diggin' offer, but I'm just chillin'." Bartholomew looked up at the stranger in the van, continuing to whistle to himself a bit as he paused and looked around at the area. He was a bit surprised by the newcomer, as he hadn't experienced any sort of hospitality since he came back to Earth. He smiled with teeth that reflected light off them as if they were a disco ball, as he gave a thumbs up to his fellow man. "What brings you around here though, hip kat?"

He didn't know why he asked the question, but he simply didn't want the conversation to end. The person had been nice enough to try to assist him if he was in need,  and that more then anyone else had done for him. He wanted to at the very least learn about him, and if anything be able to return his kindness if possible.
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Kindness was a foreign concept to the toaster. All their life he had been used, abused, and thrown to the side. But now with new energy pulsating through them, they were going to be able to change that. Amassing the heaps of thrown away materials to form a in-cohesive body, they began to stand. The "garbage dump" had started to become something beautiful, the piles of forgotten items starting to rise up and become their own, the "dump" becoming home to a small army.

Raising their fist, the other object-based creatures soon followed the toaster's example. The toaster pointed at the nearby city before raising their fist once more, sending the message to the others clearly, as the object warriors gathered together and took off to claim what was there's, and if all went according to the toaster's plan, they would  make the world their junkyard.

Adam was almost to the point of making a meal of his lower lip. This was his first time going out since embracing the whole "hero" thing, and while he survived his last ordeal, he couldn't do anything to prevent the nerves coursing throughout his body. He was in one of the most advanced suits of armor in the world, but still felt vulnerable putting his neck on the line like this. But his sister made a convincing argument and he promised her that he would do something with this scientific marvel they created. He would be Titanium.

And one of the cardinal rules of embracing the hero game is that you always had to investigate strange readings. The time spent working in your lab developing new technologies and studying theoretical physical concepts is also spent with one eye on the monitor, searching for anything...strange. And wouldn't it be his luck that the, likely overpowered, sensors at Military Mechanics picked up a disturbance in the fabric of space-time somewhere in New York.

Why are you even investigating a reality warp...there's nothing you can do about that.

Adam ignored the voice even though that was one of the most accurate things it's ever said. He had no idea what he'd do once he got to this disturbance, but that's what heroes did...at least that's what he thought. But there was no need to worry because once he arrived at the site of the disturbance, there was really no sign of anything out of place. Actually, scratch that.

Shock forced Adam into a full stop. His suit's flight mode granted him incredible aerial agility, so stopping on a dime was no problem. Even flying at well over 200 mph, the 12 foot wings were able to decelerate him almost instantly with minimal effort. The g forces didn't even affect him, since his suit did an excellent job of helping with with that.

What bothered him the most was how out of place the individual at the center of the reality disturbance looked. He had a massive blond afro rising over his head, blue button-down shirt halfway on, too tight pants, and boots. Adam honestly didn't know how to respond; it took a lot out of him to even stop from exclaiming. He simply hovered above the scene, unsure of what to do.

Night Walker kind of just stared dumbly at the man's lingo. [color=#00008B]‘Diggin? Who talked like this unironically? Weird.’ Night Walker decided to pull his van over and strap his sword to his back to walk with the guy. ”Yeah, it's no problem at all man.” Seth shrugged. ”I was just passing through.” Seth said explaining why he had chosen to pull over.

The man asked him a question, followec up again with that archaic slang. ’Hip… Kat?’ Night Walker thought. ”Just driving. I've been driving for a couple weeks now.” He said shrugging off the question.

That's when a group of electronics chose to make their presence known. The junkyard suddenly teeming with inorganic life. He pulled the book out of his coat pocket and frantically searched the pages but finding nothing about Zombie appliances. Which probably meant he was dealing with a new phenomena. Great. He'd have to figure out this on his own. Pulling his sword off his back, he felt a twinge of regret pulling at his soul. He couldn't place why he felt that way. Pulling his deep blue bandana over his mouth, he looked at the weird man.

”Sorry to cut our conversation short. Looks like I'm needed.” He said before trying to rush his way into the junkyard to fight a living toaster...he wondered why his life had become this way.

"You on a road trip or something, eh buddy boy?" Bartholomew was taken back by the young man equipping himself with a sword, along with his vague answers. It seemed like either he was hiding something, or just in general wasn't as social as Bartholomew thought, though he was still better then anyone else the young groove master had come across on this modern Earth.  Thus, he returned to trying to be a kind hearted member of society, at least in the same way the man was being to him. "I guess that's nice. Enjoy the snazzy land of modern America. Well, it's been nice meeting you, but I mainly visited for work and it's time for me to go..."

Turning to leave, Bartholomew couldn't help but to notice the floating man looking down at the city below. Flying people wasn't exactly groundbreaking for Bartholomew, especially for his line of work. But was he suspicious to be flying and examining the area the way he was. Then again, with the lack of knowledge Barth had about the modern day, the man could be a modern cop with jet boots or something. It wasn't best to jump to conclusions when dealing with this sort of stuff.

Before Bartholomew could even take another step, his head began to ring with a sound all too familiar to him. If it wasn't the flying man he had to worry about, something around him was certainly worthy to be cautious of. It wasn't long before the cause of his Funk-Senses going off revealed itself. Appearing in the blink of an eye, in what seemed to be thanks to the effect of super speed, an amassed horde of junk filled the area. The beings of trash all had their hands raised, except for one single being with a toaster head. Digging in himself, he pulled out a microphone, and began to float into the air.

"WE WILL NO LONGER BE OPPRESSED! NO LONGER WILL WE BE THROWN TO THE SIDES AND FORGOTTEN! WE ARE NOT THE SCRAPS OF SOCIETY, BUT RATHER, THE BUILDING BLOCKS OF A NEW ONE!" As the toaster-man reached higher in the air and yelling got more vicious, the other junk-people started to cheer, now raising two fists. "WE WILL NOW TAKE OUR DEBT FROM YOU ALL BUT REMOVING THE TRUE TRASH OF THIS PLANET...YOU HUMANS. NOW, WE WILL RIP AND TEAR YOU FLESH, IN AN ACT OF ARTIST EXPRESSION THAT THIS COUNTRY PROVIDES THROUGH THE RIGHT OF PROTEST. ALSO, THIS COUNTRY IS BASICALLY TRASH. SUCK IT, WASHINGTON."

The toaster then gestured to his crotch, in which a toaster popped out. His trash-crafted peers were amused by this. Bartholomew, however, was not. As the toaster continued his "protest", the junklings began searching out for humans to rip the flesh off of, creating widespread panic from the citizens who were around.  It was unfortunate how common this type of thing was for Bartholomew. On the moment of the junk's arrival, he whispered to himself the ancient word "Sha-Funk", Bartholomew accessed the groove energy within him and began to flash a variety of colors, as he flew into a small group of the junklings and tore them apart.

"Hey y'all, I know what it's like to be called trash. Trust me, I like disco. Imagine what it's like to be a fan of a genre called junk all the time." He kicked one of the junklings who was in the middle of preparing to attack an unaware elderly lady on a jog, as his costume fully formed itself around him. Marvelouserity was now on the scene, and he wasn't going to let the trouble get anymore out of hand then it already had. "Buddy boy with the hellah rad sword, why not you try giving a helping hand over here?"

Adam's shock turned to consternation when the leader of a frickin horde of sentient trash men declared war on humanity. And then his consternation evolved into pure frustration when the young man unsheathed a sword and the disco dancer with the rising sun for an afro transformed into a costumed superhuman.

What...the FUCK is going on here?!

Adam's gaze moved between the unlikely pair just below him and the army of sentient trash beings razing the city in the name of revenge for....being thrown away? Confusion locked Adam in the one spot, this inaction allowing uncertainty to creep through his body. Should he really be involved in something as batshit crazy as this.

A desperate scream breaks Adam from his reverie. His head snaps to the source to the noise to see one of these trash beings, clinging onto the side of a building 6 stories up, yanking a woman out the window by her hair. Without thinking, he surged forward, thrusters accelerating him to that building almost instantly. He inverted himself in order to catch the lady in his arms before swooping up beside the trash being, fist raised.

"Hey asshole!"

The white light of his pulse bolt slammed into the being followed by a tremendous crack. The fiend exploded into pieces. Adam lowered to the ground slowly and freed the woman who screamed a frantic thanks before fleeing. But before he could decide his next move, at least a dozen junk men flooded out of buildings and alleys and surrounded him, shouting about how they were going to "scuff his shiny suit" and "ruin the finish"...he wasn't intimidated.

Adam raised both fists at the opponents, slowly rotating in the spot. It shouldn't be too hard to take out these guys...just somewhat time consuming.

Seth stared at the junklings as they entered the city. He was almost too stunned to do anything. Then, he quickly ran back to his van for his crossbow and arrows; only to find the arrows scattered all around the back. He had no time to actually pick them all up. It wasn't long before the strange disco man called for him to fight - at least that's what he'd think considering he mentioned a quote "Hella Rad Sword".

He quickly ran back with his sword and slammed it directly into the door of a refrigerator. The door swung open and Seth was thrown off. He did his best to roll with the hit. The sword stuck in a refrigerator that was quickly falling over. He stood up from his side, and dashed back into the fray where he managed to keep the refrigerator up long enough for him to rip the sword out and cut the power chord - for whatever good that would do.

The refrigerator made some muffled noises that may have been speech, but it couldn't seem to move from it's front.

"Hey, Disco Dude. I don't suppose you have any tricks up your sleeve to finish this quickly?" A man in a winged suit was doing quite well in the fight. It almost made Seth feel useless.

"Yeah, I got a few cool moves..." Marvelouserity grabbed one of the junklings by their head, spinning the creature's body around so that it would hit and destroy all the nearby trash people. "Let me take a breath here, and I'll add a bit of piazza to this whole shin-dig here..."

Noticing a group of bystanders at a nearby crosswalk about to be attacked, who were so law-abiding that they wouldn't walk when the sign said not to even with their own lives at stake, Marvelouserity took a breath. He wasn't lying he needed a breather. But what he didn't explain was that by exhaling, the air would burst out in a storm of glitter that shot the oncoming junklings back.

"Boom shock-locka baby!" The disco king posed with two fingers pointed straight out, as he waited for his cape to blow dramatically behind it. After a solid minute he remembered how his cape had been switched out for his white coat, which was still white thanks to the groove energy protecting it, or at least some other ridiculous explanation that Marvelouserity really couldn't consider right now. The pile of glitter covered trash didn't seem to be as destroyed as he would of thought, however. Reforming itself, the pieces of trash returned to their humanoid forms, as they began to float into the air while a horde of more junklings used some sort of super speed to appear under them. The trash seemed have somehow gained powers equal to that of Marvelouserity himself.

And it seemed like the trash was now prepared to take THEM out.

"Okay, everyone, I got an idea. Get into my hands..." Marvelouserity spread his legs out, planting them firmly into the ground, with his superhuman strength almost breaking the ground beneath him. He reached his two arms into the air, as if forming a "Y", along with opening his hands. "Just come on. We have no time to dilly-daddle here."

A few moments of tense posturing on both sides ensued. Adam's heart pounded on his armor, but his breathing remained measured. His eyes scanned the mass of scrap metal until a sudden move drew his attention to his left side. A particularly brave trashling decided to take the plunge for his brothers. and dove, headfirst, at Adam.

Dumbass.

Adam turned in an instant and used that momentum to deliver a tremendous punch that sent the trashling's head flying while the rest of his body continued in the direction of his dive. But instead of being deterred, the rest of the scrum took that as a declaration of battle and lunged at Adam as one. Lightning coursed through Adam's veins, charging his thoughts and movements; this was it!

He located the two trashlings nearest to him and, with a thunderous twin crack, they shattered under the strength of his pulse bolts. But they needed a few seconds to charge after each use; and but the wave of metal surrounding him remained unbroken. Thick metal whips the color of concrete slid out from slots in his arms. As he raised his arms in preparation for a swing, arcs of electricity lanced up and down the whips.

With the electric whips now poised to strike, Adam spun in a circle, cutting down the first few waves of trashlings and forcing the rest of them to back off their attack. Once he no longer felt the whips impacting metal bodies, he halted his spin. He had bought more than enough time for his force pulses to recharge and made some space.

He heard the man out of time calling out to him and some other person, asking them to hop on his hands or something. But paranoia flooded his senses the moment he even considered listening to this odd man.

Hell no! He's probably the one bringing these guys to life. It all started with him. I'll have to deal with him once all of these trash...things are destroyed.

The whips snapped back into his armor and he took aim at two more victims. But before he could fire, movement something moved between his legs. That's when he noticed that all the individual parts of the destroyed trashlings were clawing their way towards one another and fitting together to make something...big.

Adam backed away as much as he could from this Transformer-like behemoth. They didn't stop attacking because they were scared of his electric whips; they stopped attacking because they didn't need to anymore.

"Ok maybe I will need these guys' help," he muttered.