Depths of Emotion

Dagon sat in the churning darkness of his home. The Trench King was in a mood particularly fowl as the eternal night reigned on in his churning kingdom. Absently, he plucked a fish from the waters around him and released a bit of power transform it into one of his children, or as the surface called them, his “deep ones”.

“Welcome to the Abyss, child. Your role will-“ Before Dagon could finish his introductory speech, the newborn deep ones eyes became pale and it floated upside down. Without a moments hesitation, Dagon sent for a mystic. The hagfish deep one slithered into his court, and examined the body. “I see the issue, my liege. The black water has taken him.” The Hagfish stated, and now Dagon could smell it in the waves. Oil.

When Dagon surfaced, the great green moon was rising from the horizon. His voice was tight, as the cyclonic tube of water formed around his waist and he bellowed. The oil rig workers, having been working tirelessly to clean the catastrophic oil spill just off the coast of New York, were admittedly shocked as the lord of deep waters stepped barefoot onto their platform. The hag wove a spell over the furious king, and he spoke to the people of the city.

Rusty was in for a long shift if he wasn’t careful. He was sitting behind the grill, trying his best not to fall asleep. Granted, other than burning some patties he would probably be fine. Ever since he realized he was a metahuman, burning himself on the grill at Burgerzilla www hardly even a concern. But generally taking a nap while grilling was grounds for termination… if the building didn’t burn down first.

Rusty was one of the first people to hear the voice in the sky, sounding like the fury of a storm while still carrying a human cadence. “People of New York.” The monstrous figure in the sky said. “Some of you may know me as Dagon. I have been cordial with you thus far. Only drowning those cities that have been harmful to me, and trying to only send you a warning. You have had enough warnings. I am on an illegal offshore oil rig that your politicians have allowed. An oil spill has caused the dying off of my people. Your heroes are fools. Defending a system that ultimately caress nothing for you, or these laborers who undoubtedly do the same.”

There was screaming, as the deep ones feasted. “Consider this your first punishment, humans. New York is forfeit and will belong to me by the end of this night. You may leave or you may stay. I truly do not care.” The face shifted into something more bestial, and then… as the moons light touched him; it shifted back into a normal, if incredibly handsome, human man.

Rusty scratched his scales with his claws. “Guess I won’t be getting overtime pay.” Said the red dragon to the leprechaun behind the counter. “Damn, Joey. You get shorter?” His voice rumbled. Rusty squinted, lifter his hands in shock and screamed in panic. He clocked out and spread his wings, taking off towards the pier. Whatever Dagon was doing, it couldn’t be good. And if it was connected to this? Rusty had to do something.

New York was in chaos.

That was the only way to describe it.

Sheer, undiluted chaos.

It made no sense to the green-haired girl, sneaking a quick smoke break on the street corner. There wasn’t even looting; at least that she could handle. No, it was just running around aimlessly, some screaming, a few crying. She’d never seen the like, and Elaine has been around for a fat minute. Things had never been this weird; not even after Dr. Nekrodium destroyed the city. Sure, she was a cop then, didn’t dabble in the hero business, but she distinctly remembers everyone looking to their heroes for help.

A cloud of smoke clung to her in the cold night air as she exhaled, a flick sending the lit cigarette flying into the horizon. Yeah, that wasn’t the case anymore. All the great heroes of the past were dead or gone; the greatest heroes buried beneath the ground they swore to protect. It had a tragic irony, really, Shakespeare would have loved it. The now-empty streets echoed with distant screams, but it was safe enough now for Elaine to make her move. The leather jacket that shrouded her slender, tan arms was tossed behind her with careless abandon, disappearing in a shower of emerald sparks, leaving her only in the tight black camisole, riding up to reveal a navel with a stud pierced through the bellybutton. The tight camisole was juxtaposed sharply with the loose military-style fatigues she wore.

Emerald beams of light burst from her, streaking towards the oil platform; a pathway, formed of glistening energy. It hovered in midair, formed from thought and will and concentration. Elaine didn’t notice how it glowed brighter than it should, nor the condensed aura of emerald filling the area around her. It was practically a beam of light, shooting into the heavens and parting the clouds, filling the area with the emerald moon. This Elaine noticed. She stopped in her tracks, suspended above the cold, choppy waters of the Atlantic ocean. It was .. magical … and enchanting … and in that moment her body warped. Bones snapped and she let out a howl as she felt her bones warp and shift; claws burst out of the soft pads of her fingers, ears parted her hair, and with a ripping sound, cat-like legs ripped free from her shoes. To top it off, a tail pushed its way out of her spine with a sound like water draining down a sink.

It came to a rapid conclusion and Elaine clutched her (somehow more prodigious?) chest in shock. What the hell was that?! Slitted eyes aimed at the massive figure she could make out in the distance, newly sharp teeth gritted in rage. The green bridge flickered for a moment, a crimson color creeping through, and then suddenly Elaine was there. Suspended in air for just a moment, another green construct bloomed into existence, giving her the leverage to spin, bringing her clawed foot down on the shoulder of the creature that had just finished announcing the destruction of the city her son goes to high school in. The result was catastrophic; regardless of whether Dagon blocked or not, the sheer force behind it sent a shockwave powerful enough to shred the steel of the oil platform, sending the metal behemoth to the ocean below, and blow out the windows of skyscrapers kilometers away.

Elaine didn’t yet notice this.

She plummeted to the ocean, coming to a sudden stop as she projected a green barrier inches from the water. As if on instinct, a green layer surrounded her, acting as armor as she gritted her teeth. Newly sharp claws flexed as the catgirl growled a most inhuman sound, before clearing her throat and struggling to control the animalistic rage inside her. She straightened, though never let her guard down - she bounced on the balls of her feet, arms and feet in a traditional boxing pose - and instead took a deep, calming breath. It didn’t work, but it was worth a try.

”Whatever you did to me,” She spat through clenched teeth. ”You better fuckin’ fix.”

It took every ounce of her prodigious willpower not to the thing in front of her to shreds. Though … with a name like “Lord of the Deep”, she was expecting more slimy sea-creature and less hunky model. Aw, well, these can’t be helped; he wouldn’t be so attractive with his face rearranged.

The forces of Dagon raged against the pier, and Rusty had to act quickly to stop it from collapsing into the sea. Wherever there was a break, Rusty placed a glowing red bracket. Rusty flapped his wings, trying to get off the ground, sure that other heroes would handle the civilians. He saw the endless waves of… normal people under the water and shuddered involuntarily. Whatever these things were normally, he had no doubt they’d try to tear Manhattan apart.

Dagon grinned, his hands dripping the blood of one of the oil dock workers. He looked to the green cat girl and actually laughed at her. ”Now why would I do something as stupid as… that?” Dagon vaguely motioned his hand towards Elaine’s cat ears. ”Another worthless human dry skin. Tell me, are you here to offer me a deal, like the fool Mammon? Or are you perhaps here to fight me for this symbol of human arrogance? I suppose it doesn’t matter either way.” A swirling vortex of water consumed Dagon and brought him into the air.

”Because the Drowned King hasn’t come to play games!” Dagon motioned the water into a solid cylinder and directed the tube towards Elaine and jettisoned himself full speed towards the Catgirl. If she failed to get out of his way, he would strike with his full force.

Meanwhile, the red dragon found his way to the oil platform and started looking for Dagon. His head felt weird though. It was almost… like he was dreaming. Suddenly, Rusty shot up slamming a constructed red gauntlet into the face of the woman who had her hands on him. She was bald, with black eyes but not necessarily unattractive. Rusty placed her around 40. Maybe early 50s. When she spoke, it was as if instead of breathing air all her life, she smoked cigarettes. ”The red Dry-Skin has awoken! We must slay him before he reaches his majesty!

Rusty looked around, and sure enough. He was still on the pier. But… the people were gone now. They seemed to have either left or been captured. Rusty grinned. ”Just because I’m a dragon now, you think you can slay me? Fat chance!” Rusty slammed his palm against the wood of the pier and watched the red liquid ooze out of him. It covered everything. Rides, food carts, the stuffed animals… and it all came to life.

”Tsk.”

This scoff was the only response Elaine made in response to Dagon, instead taking the opportunity to rip off the shirt she was wearing, leaving her only in her black and green sports bra. There was something about this man that was dangerous; maybe it was the massive Willpower aura he was exerting, or the strength and power he commanded when he spoke. Whatever it was, it made Elaine uneasy; her ears started to twitch and turn, as if anticipating a surprise attack. But no, all of his minions were prepared to attack the red dragon boy, leaving just her and Dagon alone. That was fine with her; she preferred this fight solo.

Just as Dagon came to the apex of his climb, and Elaine cracked her knuckles, the city began glowing. More than just the lights and sounds of the city, every individual in the city began to glow a light green, then quickly grew in intensity. And Elaine, her eyes began to glow, like emerald flames in the pit of them, intense enough to cast light on the rest of her face. Though there was no outwards physical strength, there was something … different about her. Her body surged with power and it was all she could do to not laugh out loud.

”Oh, you fucked up now!”

He charged at her, propelled by water at tremendous speeds, but Elaine was now powered by the city. Millions of souls that she had to defend, each lending her their cry for help. A green shield blossomed in front of her; she didn’t think it would hold, not entirely anyway, but it gave her time. Green light enveloped her knuckles, and at this her muscles flexed, seeming to increase in density and strength. As the light burst away, green gauntlets with emerald studs adorned her fists; each glove had the image of a tiger on the back of the knuckle. She was prepared, and as Dagon slammed into the green barrier, it shattered, unable to withstand the sheer force at which he was rushing, though it did slow him; at the same time, however, Elaine threw her full might into his jaw. Along with the tremendous force of the punch, another, even more mighty force hit him; a sudden blast of energy, twice the power that Dagon had hit the construct with, slammed into him at the same time.

Assuming these both hit, something interesting would happen; a burst of green sparks, from any place hit, would fly out, only to turn black and disintegrate, and Dagon would feel as his urge to kill mollified just a little bit. Elaine scattered backwards, her tail twitching with excitement, and she rubbed her nose with a cocky attitude, as if that made any difference. Her smirk faded as he saw Dagon still standing, whether she slugged him or not. This was one tough sunofabitch.

”kay, yer perty tough, handsome, but I’ve fought tougher. Bring it, fish boy.”

---

The shore was a mass of Deep Ones, their fishy bodies soaked through with slime and ocean spray. To any normal person, walking nightmares best to avoid. But Sachiko grew up in a world of dark dreams; she lives it every day, with Namur whispering in her head. To her, this was a buffet. Her soft paws padded on the ground, darting from cover of rock to rock, waiting for her opportunity then BAM! Striking from the shadows, her jaw clenching on the back of their head and killing them in an instant. Afterwards, she dragged the body into the bushes to consume later, sometimes hiding them in cupboards of the suf shops and ice cream stands on the beach.

She loved seafood.

But something was wrong; she felt her body twisting, changing. Her tail sucked into her body like somebody was sucking a noodle, her ears disappeared like dust off her head. The voice inside her hissed angrily; it was unhappy! But Sachiko didn’t feel any different. Jumping from the shadows, she landed on one of the fish people, extending her claws to rip into the hard parts of him that made them stop moving; but as she did, black, twirling energy that reeked of magic appeared, tearing through the creature like gutting a fish. She shrieked, a cat-like sound, then looked rapidly in each direction. Namur was telling her something, but she didn’t listen; instead, her ears perked as she heard a roar-like cry. A Dragon!

He was beset by food, but that was okay, Sachiko would help! She leapt, flying dozens of feet in the air just in time to avoid the red wave, and landed on the back of one of the food. It barely had enough time to screech in defiance (Sachiko was beginning to pick up the language, it was something like “Dangit”), before her fangs sunk into its pulsing blood part. With a jerk of her head, she ripped its meaty bit out, blue-grey liquid squeezed out of it, and she used its forward momentum to jump again, this time landing next to the dragon thing! Well, he certainly didn’t look like any dragon Sachiko had ever seen, but that was okay, they’re all different.

”Hello, Mister Dragon! Wassa goin’ on? Who are these fishy thingies?” Despite understanding what she was saying, Rusty would only hear a series of grunts and animalistic growls.

The woman - or, rather, girl - that had just landed in front of him was an odd sort. Though pretty, her short-cropped blond hair was matted and filthy, same as her clothes; rags covered her bust and lower body, ripped and torn from many excursions. She was covered in fish blood and guts, but seemed completely unbothered. Perhaps most odd, she didn’t stand like any normal human would; she was crouched on all fours, like a cat ready to pounce and a smirk on her lip like the cat that got the cream.