Why so serious?

[Guest]

To say that Alfred was nervous would be an understatement. One would think that after defeating dozens- well, not exactly dozens, because there had only been about six- of horrifically superpowered villains, a person would lose most of their fear of the mundane, but Alfred was apparently the exception. He stood before the polished double doors at the front of the Angel City Gazette, drawing confused stares from the people who had to walk around him on the sidewalk.

This was it. He could do this. If the boss liked him, this could be his big break, the foot in the door he needed to start his career as a journalist. If the boss didn't like him... Well, that was it. Dreams out the window, down the toilet, totally destroyed. Alfred swallowed heavily.

But he couldn't walk away now. He'd summoned up the courage to schedule an interview, and now here he was, standing before the doors with his portfolio in hand. Sucking in another deep breath, he started forward, pushing open one of the doors and breathing in his first taste of Angel City Gazette airspace.

He could do this. He could do this. Oh god he was terrified.

[Damsey]

Arthur knew that he wasn't the friendliest guy in the world as well as the most happy one. He was almost always seen wearing a frown wherever he was. It's not like he's angry or anything, he just never found it necessary to smile. Ever since he was a little boy, he had always been bullied. Everyone always made fun of how huge his eyebrows were and they were all disgusted by it. They also made fun of how frail he is and how his bark is worse than his bite. He doesn't let it bother him because most of them were all wankers who don't know anything about life and just goofed off. But, he gets lonely. He doesn't have anyone to talk to because no one would listen. It's a good thing that his fairy and unicorn friends visit him regularly to ease his loneliness. He wonders if he'd be able to find someone who could save him from loneliness... Would there even be someone who would be willing to do such a thing?

Anyway, back to work. Arthur has been searching for a decent Journalist. His former applicants just quit because they can't stand his attitude. They said that he had always criticized them too harshly. Why can't people nowadays accept constructive criticism? It's not like he cared or anything... right?

It was almost time to send another one in... He wished that he wouldn't scare this one away. He took a sip from his tea and tried to put on a smile for the next applicant.

"Come in."

[Guest]

Alfred had lost track of how long he'd been sitting in the lobby, waiting for his interview. He'd busied himself with sorting through his portfolio once, twice, and then a third just for good measure, because who knew what they looked for in a journalism portfolio here? When a sharp, accented voice beckoned him inside, he leapt to his feet and scurried over to the door.

Professionalism, Alfred, he reminded himself, looking down at his clothes. No horrible wrinkles, no crumbs, no stains of unknown origin. Good. He squared his shoulders and pushed the door open, striding inside as though his stomach wasn't full to the brim with nervous knots.

"Hello, I'm Alfred Jones," he said to the man seated behind the desk. He couldn't bring himself to really get a good look at the man- the nerves were killing him. His eyes flittered anxiously over the man's shoulder to stare out at the skyscrapers he could see through the window. They were much easier to look at than the man who just might end up being his new boss. "I'm, uh- I'm here for my interview?"

[Damsey]

Arthur took another sip of tea as he waited for the next applicant.

"Yes. I know that, Jones." Is this Jones trying to insult him? Of course he knew that Jones was there for his interview! He is not stupid! He tried to calm down by taking another sip of his tea. He didn't want to scare another applicant.

"So let's get started then, shall we? First of all, let me ask you... Why do you want this job?" This is what he always asks his applicants. He wonders how Jones would answer this simple question.

[Guest]

Well, this man didn't seem all that friendly. Alfred winced. He hadn't even been invited to take a seat. "Um, why do I want this job? Well, I've always wanted to be a journalist, ever since I was a little kid." He did his best to give a charming smile. "And I mean, the Gazette is the best newspaper for miles around. I read it every morning."

That wasn't a lie. Every morning before breakfast, Alfred would pick up the paper and skim through it, both for mentions of himself and for any tips on just what he might be facing next. Bank robbery? Escaped prisoner? Mysterious death? He was on it.

After a moment of silence, in which Alfred hovered awkwardly above the nearest chair and cast quick glances at his possible boss- Arthur Kirkland, the nameplate on his desk said- he gave another small smile. "Can I sit down?"

[Damsey]

He was surprised. Normally others would just take a seat and not ask him if they could sit down. And no one ever gave him smile. They were always too busy staring at his eyebrows and then they forget to say what they need to say. His face turned pink.

"Y-Yes. You may sit down." He mentally scolded himself for stuttering. HE was Arthur Kirkland! Arthur Kirkland does NOT stutter! But here he was, stuttering and blushing like a school girl.

"Um, right. Next, Why do you think that you are capable of doing this job?"

[Guest]

Was Kirkland... blushing? Alfred's smile grew stronger, easier, and the knots in his stomach loosened a bit. Maybe this wouldn't be so hard after all. He settled down into the chair- not too relaxed, though, he still needed to show off his professionalism- keeping his portfolio between his hands.

"I'm a great researcher," he said in response to Kirkland's question. "I'm quick and smart and I can think on my feet. I've lived here all my life, so I know all about the city. Plus, I have my own motorcycle if I need to get somewhere far away."

[Damsey]

Okay... he really needed to stop looking at Jones. His smile does weird things to him so he looked down and fixed some of his paperwork.

"Oh, Is that so? We'll just see about that Mr. Jones." He wasn't convinced just yet. So far, his answers were all good but would he be able to give the answer to the question that he was about to throw him next?

"Okay. Last Question. Imagine you are placed in a room with Adolf Hitler when he is only 3 years old. You have a gun, know exactly what he does during world war 2 and will not be charged in any way if you choose to kill him, but at the time he is just an innocent baby, would you kill him?" He waited for Jones to laugh at his question, just like all the others did.

[Guest]

Now that was a shock. Alfred sat there for a moment, stunned, as the question repeated itself in his brain. Baby Hitler...? He swallowed heavily. The right thing to do would have been to kill him. But that was only what a part of him said. The rest insisted that no, even if he was going to grow up to become Hitler, Alfred had no right to kill a harmless child.

He met Kirkland's eyes squarely this time. "I don't believe in fate or destiny. If I was left alone in a room with a baby named Adolf Hitler, I'd just do my best to make sure he didn't grow up to be a monster. I couldn't kill him, not when he had a chance to become something else."

[Damsey]

He was shocked. He never expected an answer like that. Jones was a really weird kid. But it's a good kind of weird. He was truly impressed and that answer made up Arthur's mind.

"Jones, you're hired." Arthur smiled. He looked down, trying to hide it from Jones. If only everyone were a lot like you... then this world would really be a better place. "You can start tomorrow morning. Your work hours will be from 8:00am to 6:00pm. Don't be late."

[Guest]

And now Kirkland was smiling, and Alfred couldn't help but grin as well as the knots in his stomach morphed into happy butterflies. "Thanks, sir! You won't regret it, I promise."

The work hours would be long, and some of it would be tedious, he knew, but he was in. He was a professional journalist now. Nothing could bring down his spirits! He made his way out the door, down to the elevator that would send him back to the main lobby and then on with his new life.

The moment the elevator doors opened into the lobby, the alarms went off.

[Damsey]

"Yes, yes. You better keep that promise, Jones!" He said as he watched Jones walk out from his office.

Arthur sighed. Well, at least I didn't scare him away like the others... and I think we could get a long. He returned to fixing all of his paperwork. He was just about to take another sip from his tea but then the alarms went off. He jumped in surprise and spilt some tea over himself.

"Bollocks. What's happening?" He didn't expect anything to happen.

[Guest]

By this point the sound of alarms was as familiar to Alfred as the annoying little yippy dog that lived in the apartment next door. He cast a quick, searching look out across the lobby, taking in the sight of the secretary cowering behind her desk, nearby chairs overturned, unconscious security officers, the large front doors smashed and twisted. Obviously this wasn't a mere punk trying to rob the place.

Alfred dashed out of the elevator towards the nearest restroom. Hopefully the secretary wouldn't see him- she looked pretty panicked. Once inside, he locked the door firmly behind him and flung his portfolio to the floor. Papers scattered across the tiles, but he didn't need them now.

In one practiced move, his shirt was wrenched off of his body, revealing the tight blue spandex across his chest, and the vibrant red coyote plastered upon his torso. Pants and shoes were flung off next, and then his glasses. Those regular clothes found themselves dumped into the trash can. Cowboy-style boots were shoved on over his feet.

He wasn't Alfred Jones anymore. Now, he was the front-page-making, crime-fighting, super suave hero, Coyote Soldier.

[Damsey]

He immediately went down to see what was going on. He saw that everything was a mess. Just what is going on here? He walked closer so that he could see exactly what was going on. But then, he felt something being pressed against his back.

"Put your hands up if you want to live!" Oh, Jesus Christ. Right after that, he saw the security guards on the floor, knocked out cold. He was scared so he put his hands up just as he was instructed. He can't believe it. How did these guys get in so easily? And what did they want with his company?

"W-what do you want?" He asked, stuttering slightly.

"I want all of your money!" The man demanded, pressing the gun closer to his back.

"I-I don't have any money..." He glared at the man.

"LIAR!" He pushed Arthur to the ground. Arthur landed on his face and tried to get back up again but was stopped when the gun was pointed at him. "If I were you, I would start giving all of my money right now."

Arthur was scared but he didn't want to show any fear to the man so he glared at him. "I told you that I don't have any money!" He yelled at the man. He quickly realized that it was not such a good move because the man could easily kill him then and there. But, if he had given the man all of the company's money but still killed him, that would be making a fool out of him and he refused to be made a fool.

"Too bad. If you gave me the money, then I would've spared your life." Where were the police? Aren't they going to come here anytime soon? Arthur closed his eyes and waited for the gunshot that would eventually kill him. Well, I've had a not so good life but here are others who've had it worse, right? Haha, well... at least he won't be able to make anyone miserable anymore.

[Guest]

The bathroom door flew open with a resounding smash. Alfred winced slightly- he'd used a little more strength than necessary, and that door, and possibly the wall, would definitely need to be fixed when this was all over. But now was not the time to be worried about a stupid door!

His gaze slid across the lobby, searching for whoever was behind this break-in. The secretary was still hiding, sobbing quietly into her hands. One of those security guards was in need of serious medical attention if the blood seeping from his head was any indication. And then Alfred's eyes settled on the two men on the far side of the room. One was obviously a criminal, judging by the ski mask and the gun held between his hands. The other...

Alfred gasped. The man on the floor, the target of the masked criminal's gun, was none other than Arthur Kirkland. So this was a robbery, huh? A gang going in search of a rich place from which to steal money? Alfred glanced back over the at the ruined front doors. No, there had to be something more. Mere robbers couldn't have done that kind of damage.

"Hey!" he yelled, hand sliding down to grab the whip coiled around his belt. He snapped it sharply against the ground, and it cracked with the force of a sonic boom. Both the secretary and the masked bandit's gazes immediately whirled to stare at him. "Let the newspaper man go, and I'll let you off easy." He grinned his cockiest grin.

[Damsey]

"Ow! What was that?!" Arthur opened his eyes and saw that the man was no longer holding his gun but holding his hand tightly. He turned around and saw a man wearing a weird costume that resembled an animal of some sort.

The burglar glared at the man wearing the strange outfit and glared. "Tch! Let us off easy? Who do you think you are?!" The burglar asked in a challenging voice as he tried to pick up his gun.

Arthur looked at the man intently. He looks so familiar. Where had he seen someone like that before? It was at the tip of his tongue. He knew it, but he just couldn't remember...

"Boss! We found it!" Arthur snapped out from his thoughts and turned to one of the burglar's accomplices. He turned pale when he saw that they've found all of the best articles that they had been planing to publish by the end of the month. Bollocks.

"No! Give those back, you wankers!" He got up and tackled the burglar's accomplice. He tried to get the papers back but the man was just too strong.

"Tch! Just take everything you can and go!" The 'boss' ordered. He still tried to stop the burglars but everything went blurry as he felt a sharp pain from his head.

"C'mon! Take him with us! He'll make a good hostage!" He felt himself being carried away and everything went black.

[Guest]

Alfred barked out a laugh. "You don't know who I am? Come on, I've been all over the news!" Okay, maybe not all over- he'd only stopped a few high-profile criminals. But still! "Now come on, why don't you let go of the boss man over there and put down your weapons, and we can just talk this over like good, regular people."

He wasn't really expecting them to listen, and they didn't let him down. But he did have to admit that he was surprised by what one of the robbers brought out. Newspaper articles? Who stole newspaper articles? Well, he guessed they were a big deal to some people.

And then everything became a little more stressful when Kirkland was knocked unconscious and hefted over the masked burglar's shoulder. Alfred let out a soft curse. Dealing with armed villains was one thing, but dealing with those same armed villains while they were in possession of an innocent hostage was another. His thoughts whirled as he tried to come up with a plan, flitting from the whip still in his grasp to the modified guns strapped to his belt to the staircase that the robbers seemed to be running towards. He would have to catch them off guard.

Though his whole being cried out for him to pursue the thieves, he waited until they were out of view before dashing towards the ruined front door. A crowd had gathered outside, who gasped when he came into view, but he ignored them in favor of twisting to stare up at the lowest windows of the building. How high were they? Could he reach them?

There was only one way to find out. Uncoiling his whip again, he swung it back and then lashed out with it, aiming towards one of the flagpoles protruding from the building's facade. It looped firmly around the base, its thicker tip keeping it locked in place. As quick as he could, Alfred began to pull himself up along the whip, using the brick wall as stepping stones. Due to his strength he could move pretty fast, but he was just hoping he would be fast enough.

[Damsey]

Arthur started to regain his consciousness. Ugh. What happened? Where am I? From the looks of it, he was being carried up to the top of the building.

"HAHAHAHAHA! We've got all of the articles that Francis' needs and we've got some money for ourselves! Good job, boys!" The burglar laughed so hard and it made Arthur's head hurt even more.

Suddenly, the boss' phone rang.

"Yes. Who is this?...... Yeah! Everything went well! We've got all the articles you wanted!... What?... The building?" Wait. What did they want with the building? Arthur tried to lean closer without being caught. "Burn it? Why would we do that?... That's a good idea, boss! That way, they can no longer be called the #1 newspaper business in the city!"

"Leave my company alone!" Arthur shouted. He realized that he completely blew his cover by doing that. He mentally cursed himself for being too impulsive at times. Everyone turned to him.

"Well, well, well. You're awake? That was fast. Hmm... What to do with you?" The boss turned to his phone once again as everyone held Arthur tightly so he wouldn't get away. "Who was that? Oh, he's nothing. Just a hostage we got so that we could escape... What?... Kill him? But why?..." Arthur's eyes widened. "Oh, I see... Okay, sir. You can count on me." The burglar kept his phone in his pocket and walked towards Arthur. He pointed the gun at his forehead and smirked. "Well, I guess this is goodbye."

"BOSS! The weird guy from before! He's coming after us!" An accomplice said. The boss immediately looked at the glass window and saw that they were really being followed. Arthur felt a bit relieved and hoped that the man would come soon.

"What?! Then shoot him! Shoot with all you've got!"

[Guest]

Though he'd known the building was tall, Alfred had not expected it to be this tall. His muscles were straining and aching, and not for the first time he made a mental note to look into building some kind of flying device. Climbing this way, no matter how strong he was, took way too much strength and focus. He couldn't risk being caught off guard like this.

But finally, finally, he was starting to approach the highest levels. He didn't know exactly where the thieves were taking Kirkland, but he'd caught a few glimpses of them through lower windows as he passed, and they seemed to be making their way up to the top. Whether that meant the highest floor or onto the roof itself, Alfred couldn't be sure, but either way, he was going to be there in time.

It was as he passing by the second highest set of windows that he heard a shout. He immediately lifted his head to stare upwards, eyes wide. Who was that? What had happened? He hadn't heard any gunshots or resounding screams of pain, so it couldn't have been anything too horrible...

Oh, wait, he thought that too soon. Now there were gunshots, smashing through the windows, resounding from the walls, and they were all focused on him. His cover had been blown.

"Shit!" Alfred threw himself sideways, trusting in his whip to keep him from plummeting all the way to the ground far below. His free hand slid down to grasp at one of the guns strapped to his side, and by the time his feet came into contact with the wall again, he was armed and ready to fight back. He clicked off the safety, aimed towards the window where the shots were coming from, and fired once, twice, a third time.

The bullets, which he had designed and modified himself along with the guns, seemed to howl as they flew through the air. The glass of the window shattered as the first bullet passed through it. The bandit inside, who must have been the one shooting at Alfred, froze, throat gurgling as blood bubbled up inside it. All three bullets had lodged themselves firmly in his torso. He swayed, eyes rolling up into his head, and then fell forward out the window. His body flapped limply in the air as it shot downwards and landed with a sickening crunch on the pavement below.

Alfred winced. If only they had just put down their weapons and come quietly... He hated having to kill people like that.

[Damsey]

Arthur watched them shoot the man below. He felt so useless. He's been nothing but trouble to man who has been trying to catch the bad guys. He wanted to help him somehow so he looked around for something he could use. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do.

Suddenly, he heard a howl and an accomplice fell out of the window. The other accomplices stopped shooting and stared for a while.

"Boss! What do we do now? We're almost out of bullets!" The accomplices started to panic.

"Don't worry! We're almost there! Our helicopter would arrive soon and we'll be out of here! That monster won't be able to catch us then! Just keep on shooting!" The boss tried to convince his comrades but they were starting to have some doubts.

They finally reached the rooftop and found that the helicopter was not yet there. The accomplices started to blame one another and the boss was clearly getting irritated.

"WILL ALL OF YOU SHUT THE HELL UP?! Everything is going to be fine! The helicopter would arrive soon! We'll just have to stall the the 'hero' while we wait for it!" The boss was starting to panic as well. It was evident in his voice.

While everyone was panicking, Arthur went to get the articles that were stolen and hid it inside his suit. It was a good thing that all of them were distracted at the moment. But then, the boss stared at him.

"Hey... We've got a hostage! We'll use him to stall for more time!" Arthur's eyes widened as he was grabbed and pushed towards the edge of the building.

"Hey, 'Mr. Hero'!" The burglars called out to him with a mocking voice. "Still chasing after us, aren't you? Well, what would you do if I pushed this man off this building?!" He challenged. The burglars seemed to be too confident about what they were doing. Arthur was terrified. He had always been afraid of heights. And being pushed to the edge of a really high place, he really wanted to scream. But his pride would never let him do that. He felt like he was about to faint.

[Guest]

So that was one villain down, several more to go. Alfred kept pulling himself upwards, ignoring the strain on his body. He could soak in a warm bath later, after he'd saved the day. At least he wasn't being shot at anymore.

He was nearly to the rooftop when he heard a clear, piercing shout of, "WILL ALL OF YOU SHUT THE HELL UP?" The grin that stole across his face was uncontrollable. Dissent among the ranks of the bad guys was always a good sign. He continued his climb.

And then stopped abruptly once more when he heard himself being addressed. Alfred turned his gaze upwards, expecting to see the big bad boss holding some kind of super weapon and directing it down at him. His whole body went numb when he saw not a weapon, but a man. Arthur Kirkland was being held at the very edge of the roof, close to toppling off to a nearly certain death.

This wasn't good. Alfred had to think fast, come up with some kind of plan that would save Kirkland's life, and hopefully get himself out with only a few cuts and bruises. But he was at a major disadvantage. Where the robbers had solid footing, Alfred was still pressed tight against the side of a building. He had nowhere to run- as far as targets went, he was a sitting duck, and no heroic plans were leaping out at him. He needed more time.

With that in mind, he unwound one hand from his whip and raised it in a gesture of peace. "Hey now, there's no need to do that." He did his best to give an easy grin, even as his mind hastily looked for some way to turn this to his advantage. "He's just a regular guy. There's no reason to kill him. Can't we settle this between just us? No one else involved."

[Damsey]

"Yeah, right. A regular guy that's caused us so much trouble!" The man smiled as the hero raised his hand. Arthur tried his best to keep his balance but he is finding it really hard to do.

"Let go of me!" Arthur tried to loosen the man's grip on him by kicking the man.

"Ouch! You little son of a bitch!" The man pushed Arthur off the building while the accomplices' eyes widened.

"WHY'D YOU DO THAT FOR? HE'S OUR ONLY HOSTAGE?! NOW WE'RE GOING TO GET CAUGHT!" One of the accomplices yelled.

"Don't worry, boys. We won't get caught... Our ride will be here any second. The hero must choose between getting the bad guys and saving a life." The man laughed.

Arthur let out a girlish scream that he never knew he could make. He didn't mind, though because he was about to die. He closed his eyes as he waited for him to reach the ground.

[Guest]

Well, there went any extra time Alfred had been hoping to get. This was it- act now and save a life, or continue to try to stop the robbers. The choice was obvious.

With a powerful kick of his legs, Alfred flung himself away from the building. One hand remained firmly tangled in his whip, the other reaching out into the air to grasp at the falling form of Arthur Kirkland. That hand managed to seize Kirkland's belt. Gravity and momentum both kicked in at once, and Alfred nearly cursed as his wrist was wrenched downwards. Still, he refused to let go, instead pulling Kirkland's body tight against his own and twisting himself so that his back slammed into the building instead of Kirkland's front.

After a moment of silence in which he mentally cussed out anything and everything that could possibly have been related to the sharp pain in his hand and the dull ache spreading across his back- oh boy, those were going to be some huge bruises- Alfred smiled down at the man he had saved. "Hey there, you okay?"

[Damsey]

He opened his eyes when he felt something, or more accurately, someone pulled him upwards with his belt. He looked up and saw that the hero had chosen to save him instead of chasing the bad guys. Arthur felt himself being pulled to the other man's chest so that he wouldn't get hurt. When they landed, Arthur landed on top of the hero safe and sound. It felt nice being held like this.

He came back to his senses when asked if he was okay. "I-I'm alright!" Arthur said and he quickly got off of him. "I... I'm so sorry!" Tears started to gather in his eyes. No one has ever done something like this before. No one ever tried to save him so he kind of expected the man to just leave him there to die. He was happy but at the same time, he was sad. He was sad because he hurt this man.

"A-are you alright? Do you need any help? I could call an ambulance if you want!" Arthur panicked. Arthur had so many questions he wanted to ask but what he wanted to know the most was the identity of his hero.

"Um, if you don't mind me asking... would you mind telling me who you are?"

[Guest]

Once they were on the ground, Alfred couldn't help but chuckle at the frantic words pouring out of Kirkland's lips. This was nothing like the man who had hired him earlier. "Don't worry about me," he said with a grin. "This is what I do. Don't feel bad." He ran one thumb beneath Kirkland's eyes, gathering up the small amount of moisture that had begun to build there.

The crowd was beginning to press in around them, shouting praise and asking questions and demanding answers. Alfred looked around at them all, beaming. He was certainly going to be more well-known after this, even if he hadn't managed to catch the thieves.

Speaking of which... Alfred turned to look back up at the roof of the building. A helicopter was landing there, probably some kind of getaway vehicle for the robbers. He frowned up at it. So he couldn't punish those criminals, not yet at least. Oh well. That would be a job for another day.

When he heard Kirkland's question, though, his smile faded slightly. Of course Kirkland would want to know the one thing he couldn't tell. Alfred wasn't willing to give up his whole life to the spandex suit and bullwhip- he needed a little bit of normalcy too, and if people found out who he really was, well, he'd lose all that.

"Sorry," he murmured, resting one hand on Kirkland's shoulder. "Can't tell you that. All that really matters is that I'm Coyote Soldier, and I saved your life, right?" He patted Kirkland's shoulder once, trying not to wince at the pain that shot through his wrist, before pausing. "Those burglars- they didn't steal anything from you, did they? I'm sorry if I couldn't get it back."

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