Anon Meme Part 2
Now that we have moved the meme to dreamwidth, all commenting will be moved there as well. The community and posts still work exactly the same and are in the exact same order. Additionally, commenting anonymously works just like on livejournal
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The past was nothing but a procession of memories, a record of the events that built you, broke you, forged you into the person you are and laid the foundations for the one you could someday be. Kotetsu had learned long ago to accept the bad with the good, but when he lay awake at night and the world was quiet, it was the good ones that always played across the theater of his mind.
I. A Hero’s Hands
Kotetsu had never been so scared in his life.
This was insane. He was insane. He wasn’t a hero; at best he was just a crazy kid with delusions of grandeur. At worst he’d be a corpse in blue pajamas.
Itchy blue pajamas.
Fuck.
A hand on his back and a voice in his ear speaking words he couldn’t hear over the deafening whump of helicopter blades and the scream of sirens on the street below. “What?” he bellowed, only half-caring. He was dead man. This hero business had seemed like a good idea until about twenty minutes ago, but now Kotetsu was giving serious thought to a change of vocation.
He heard accountants had a relatively low fatality rate.
A hand on his neck and Ben pulled him close. “I said go get ‘em, Tiger.”
Then he pushed Kotetsu out of the helicopter.
That son of a bitch pushed him out of the goddamn helicopter.
Kotetsu screamed like a little girl, and had the space of a heartbeat to hope no one had caught that on camera before he slammed onto the roof of one of the squad cars, staring at the startled face of the driver through the windshield.
Ouch. Kotetsu shoved himself upright with a wince, holding onto one of the flashing lights for balance. In hindsight, he probably should have activated his powers before he landed.
“Rookie Wild Tiger is first on the scene!”
The voice was distant and tinny in his ear, and Kotetsu squinted against the wind and tore out the stupid earpiece, tossing it aside. The last thing he needed was running commentary when he needed to focus.
Focus, right. The stolen van was tearing down the cleared freeway three cars ahead. Two bank robbers, both armed. Christ, where were the other heroes?
The van suddenly swerved, an arm and a red head poking out of one of the windows and vanishing back inside with an aborted scream.
A woman’s scream.
They had a hostage. No one had said anything about hostages, dammit! Where were the other heroes?
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