by Jay Phillips
Journal Entry
[Found on page 39 of the journal]
Note: The following is an interview of Fire Maiden and The Ice Queen in a pre-war magazine designed and sold to men. The article was published somewhere around three years before the war. Could only find the one page and not the rest of it.
Today I was granted the absolute best assignment I could have ever been given in the entirety of my life. Today I was asked to interview the, at least in my opinion and the opinion of the majority of men who read this fine publication, greatest superhero duo on the planet, Fire Maiden and The Ice Queen. These two have beauty, brains, and the ability to set you on fire or freeze you then shatter your bones. What’s not to love?
After much debate with their manager (yes, superheroes have managers. What a world we live in today), it was decided that they would come to my place for a nice casual interview. Then, I had to go and change my pants. With clean pants, a stack of notebooks and several number two pencils, I sat at home, more than prepared for what was about to come.
Much to my dismay, the duo didn’t fly in or arrive by ice slide, but instead, they showed up in a chauffeured black limo. Fire was dressed casual, wearing a simple pair of jeans and a tight t-shirt. She had her long blond hair put in a simple ponytail, and the little make-up she wore brilliantly complimented her luscious face. Ice, on the other hand, went all out in her skimpy baby-doll style dress and very high heels. I could also tell she wasn’t wearing a bra since, well, let’s just say that a woman who can freeze anything she wants is probably always cold. Ice’s trademark snow white hair was in an up-do (whatever in the hell that means, I had to ask one of the female staffers how to describe her hair), which made her look more prepared for an awards show than a sit-down interview at my place.
The atmosphere around them remained quite relaxed throughout the night, and the two super heroes, and might I add the two most beautiful women I have ever been this close to before, let me ask pretty much whatever I wanted. What a night.
Axiom Magazine: So you two seem to be a very tight duo. Have you always been this close or is this something recent?
Ice: Definitely recently. Before our powers came in, I couldn’t stand her. She was such a goody-goody.
Fire (to Ice): I liked you.
Ice: We were just two extremely different people when we met.
Axiom Magazine: And where did the two of you meet?
Fire: High school. But once our powers came in, I discovered that I could control fire---
Ice: And I could control ice.
Fire: So it just kind of made sense for the two of us to team up.
Axiom Magazine: Wait, high school? If you don’t mind my asking, exactly how old are the two of you?
Fire: I’m nineteen, and Ice is eighteen.
Ice: Don’t worry, we’re both more than legal.
Axiom Magazine: I think you just reassured 99% of our readers, and me. So what made the two of you take to the streets as costumed crime fighters?
Fire: I really thought we could make a difference, change the world, fix the problems plaguing this generation and the next.
Ice: I thought we could be become famous and then rich.
Axiom Magazine: Lofty aspirations.
Ice: Thank you.
Axiom Magazine: So in high school, the two of you hit the streets and stopped crime throughout Southern California. What kind of crimes did you encounter?
Fire: We ran into everything from bank robbers and carjackers to kidnappers and rapists.
Ice: But we really didn’t get to encounter the big stuff until we joined The Seven.
Axiom Magazine: That was my next question. How has life in The Seven been different from the old days of crime fighting as a twosome?
Fire: Now we don’t just handle the little crimes, but we also deal with things happening to the whole country, and sometimes, to the whole world.
Axiom Magazine: So is the leader of The Seven, Agent America, as much of a hard-ass as we all think he is?
Ice: The Agent is a brilliant leader, and I think I can speak for both of us here when I say that I trust that man without a doubt. I would follow him into the mouth of Hell itself and back if that’s what he asked me to do.
Fire: Same here.
Axiom Magazine: So a personal question, have the two of you ever double teamed a guy?
Fire: We double team people all the time. There was this one guy. Ice froze him to the ground, and I burnt the gun out of his hand. It was great.
Ice: I don’t believe that’s exactly what he meant, Fire.
Axiom Magazine: Not exactly.
Fire: Oh, that.
Ice: Truthfully, I’ve been trying to get her to do that with me for years, but she’s just too much of a prude. I’ll convince her one of these days.
Continued on page 169
_______________________________________________
“Well shit,” The Detective said as he walked into The Ice Queen’s spacious penthouse apartment. The living area, which seemed empty despite several sofas scattered about, featured a cathedral style ceiling stretching to at least twenty feet tall. A huge fireplace sat inside of one wall, and the far wall was nothing but a giant window, displaying the entire city skyline. The only thing missing was a bear skin rug. “Nice place, was the Taj Mahal not rent controlled? Or I guess the commute would have just been too much.”
“Have I told you to go to Hell lately?” she asked as she threw her keys onto a coffee table which sat in the middle of three leather couches and a very large television.
“Not in the past five minutes or so,” he answered, still standing five feet from the closed front door and staring at the place in amazement.
“Then consider yourself told.” She pointed to a room to his immediate left. “The kitchen is right there. If you’re hungry, there’s food.”
He was hungry and bloody, not to mention tired. Just a few hours ago, the thought of running around the city with a beautiful former super heroine, getting shot at, and discovering corpses all around the city was truly the last thing he thought he would be doing with his night. Life was strange. He walked into the massive kitchen. Food sat everywhere. There was fruit on the counter and fresh bread next to it; he opened a cookie jar shaped like a bear. It was filled to the top with homemade chocolate chip cookies--- not store bought, actual homemade cookies. He took a couple out and ate as he looked around.
He walked over to the silver refrigerator and opened it. His jaw dropped open, nearly spilling the half eaten cookie from his mouth. He hadn’t seen this much food in one place in over a decade. The people of the world, neither the normals nor the super powered, didn’t live like this anymore. The war had cancelled trade practices throughout the globe. Economies didn’t support this kind of indulgence. No wonder this guy wanted to kill The Seven, he thought to himself. Maybe the guy was just hungry and was going to use murder as an excuse to raid their cabinets.
Ice walked into the kitchen. “You find anything to eat?”
“I found a cookie,” he answered, holding up one of the half eaten chocolate chip concoctions he held in his hand.
“My personal chef, Juanita, makes those,” she said in return. “Aren’t they fucking delicious?”
“I had a personal chef in prison,” he said, holding his hand over his mouth to cover the other half of the cookie he was still trying to chew. “His name was Bubba, and he personally poured a ladle of goop onto my tray three times a day, every day.”
She stopped and looked over at him. “You were in an isolated containment unit in a maximum security prison for super powered individuals. I sincerely doubt there was anyone named ‘Bubba’ there.”
“There was,” he replied, a slight smirk on his face. “He telekinetically pulled down the porch roof on his family’s double wide, killed his entire family and seven dogs.”
She visibly tried to hold back a grin. “There are times I hate you.”
“I know. That’s the usual re
action I get from pretty women.”
“I can’t imagine why,” she said as she lightly chuckled under her breath.
The doorbell rung. They both jumped a little as the sound echoed through the massive apartment.
“That should be Fire,” she said as she walked to leave the kitchen and answer the door.
“Can’t Jeeves get it?” he asked, knowing the reaction it would evoke.
“Who the fuck is Jeeves?” she asked as a tiny smile appeared on her face. It was probably there, he assumed, against her will.
“I just figured you would have a butler named Jeeves.” He followed her out of the kitchen to the living room. “You and Jeeves just made sense together. Maybe he could have married Juanita. Then you would have had a whole indentured servant family. It could’ve been sweet.”
She looked through the peep hole. “It’s Fire. For God’s sake, please, just be quiet.”
He put his forefinger next to his lips and made a sound like air leaking from a tire. “I’ll be good, but only because you asked so damn nicely,” he whispered.
She shook her head from side-to-side and opened the door. A blond woman leapt through the door, throwing a bag on the floor and wrapping Ice in a tight hug.
“Oh my God,” the blonde cried breathlessly. “Gabby, are you okay?” The blonde pushed Ice back a little and looked over her body, like a mother checking her toddler for boo-boos. “When you told me what happened, I was so worried about you. And poor Adam, I don’t know how I’m going to break that to Emily. I haven’t even tried to tell her yet, and I know she’s going to feel it off of me before I do. Oh God, then there’s Billy and Anthony. Are you all right?” she asked again, double checking Ice for injuries. “If anything happened to you---I just couldn’t bear it.” She grabbed Ice again, pulling her in for another tight hug. “Do you know who did it? Were there any clues? What did The Agent say? How close was the bullet that almost hit you? How many times have I told you, you have to start taking better care of yourself? It doesn‘t matter; all that matters is that you’re okay.”
The Detective chuckled. He had never heard someone say so much without breathing.
Ice stepped back a couple of feet. “Fire,” she said, “I’m fine. I’m fine. Nothing broken, no bullet holes, barely even scraped.”
The blonde turned towards The Detective. “And you,” she cried out, lunging towards him and wrapping her arms tightly around his ribcage. “Thank you, thank you so much for saving her from being killed. I know she hasn’t said a word to you about it, so I’m going to do it for both of us. Thank you so much.”
“I didn’t do anything,” he said, holding his arms awkwardly above the blonde’s body, unsure whether to hug her back or just keep them in the air. “I just---”
“You just saved her life,” the blonde said, squeezing him tighter. “She told me how you pushed her out of the way of the bullets, and she said that if you had not been there, she would be dead now. And how you got shot in the process.”
A grin grew across his face. “She did?” He turned his gaze toward Ice. She rolled her eyes at him and looked in the other direction.
The blonde pulled away from him. She was a pretty woman, a woman he could tell was once gorgeous, but had now redesigned herself as a mother and a wife, with beauty becoming less of a priority. She was slim, not well endowed, with shoulder length blond hair, and she smelled like baby powder. But she had a face that was almost perfect, a face that had probably made more than her fair share of men melt, which seemed fitting for a woman people called Fire. “I am so sorry. Here I am hugging you without properly introducing myself. My name is Pamela Blaze,” she said, holding out her hand for a shake. He went to take her hand, only for her to grab his arm instead, pulling him in for another hug.
Ice laughed. “I should have warned you that Fire Maiden is a hugger.”
“Blaze?” The Detective asked. He decided not hugging back was a fight he wasn’t going to win, so he put his arms around the blonde and returned her squeeze.
“My maiden name was McAllister,” she answered, releasing him from her grip and pulling back. “But wouldn’t you know it that a woman who can cover herself in flames and shoot fire from her hands would marry a man named Richard Blaze. He can turn invisible, which is really annoying, especially since he only does it when I need him to do something.”
“Where are the kids?” Ice asked, coming to The Detective’s rescue.
Fire turned towards her old partner. “They’re at the house with Emily.” She seemed to tear up a little. “Oh God, Gabby, how am I going to tell her about Adam? It’ll break her heart.”
“Just wait,” Ice replied, “after we stop this guy, I’ll come over, and we’ll tell her together. I won’t let you do this alone. I promise.” Ice reached over and gave her a hug, revealing a side of The Ice Queen he had never seen before: a side that had feelings.
“Do you think you can stop this guy, Gabby?” Fire asked.
Ice pulled away from the hug and held her old partner by the shoulders, looking her in the eyes. “I don’t want you to worry about it. I want you to worry about you, those two babies, and Emily. Where’s Richard right now?”
“He’s in Shore City for business. Why?”
“I want you, the babies, and your sister on the first plane out of here,” Ice said in return, a sense of urgency in her voice. “Tonight, first thing tomorrow, as soon as possible, I need you to fly to Richard and stay there until this is all over. Okay?”
Fire tried to speak. “But---”
“No buts,” Ice interrupted. “As soon as possible, okay?”
“Okay,” the blonde said, visibly giving in to her friend’s demands. “Oh, I almost forgot.” She turned to The Detective and reached down to retrieve the bag she brought in with her. She handed it to him. “It’s one of my husband’s shirts. I hope it fits. You’re a little bit bigger than him, but it should be close.”
“Thank you,” he said, looking inside the bag which held a white button-up shirt. “I really appreciate it.”
Fire reached over to him and pulled the trench coat away from his left shoulder. “Oh my God,” she said when she saw the bloody shirt he was wearing. “Ice, this is still bleeding out. Do you want me to redo the bandage for him?”
“No,” Ice answered without hesitation, guiding the blonde towards the door. “I’ll take care of him. I need you on that plane.”
“Fine.” Fire reached over and kissed Ice on the cheek. “Now be nice to him; he’s a keeper.”
“A keeper? I took him out of prison tonight. How’s that a keeper?”
The blonde gave her friend one last hug. “You know as well as I do that being locked up doesn’t mean what it used to.” She looked at The Detective. “Have you ever killed anyone?” she asked.
“Not today, no,” he answered.
“See, Gabby, he hasn’t killed anyone at all today. That’s a keeper in my book.”
“You need a new book,” Ice responded, pushing her old partner out the door.
“I have a quick question,” The Detective said, just as the blonde turned to leave. “Does the phrase, ‘They’re not the family you deserve,’ mean anything at all to you?”
Fire stopped and looked at him. He could hear her heartbeat speed up; he could smell the little bit of sweat that broke out on her forehead. “No, nothing at all,” she lied to him.
“That’s okay,” he replied, not ready to force the issue.
Ice pushed her friend out the door. “Go. I don’t want to hear from you until you’re safely out west.”
She shut the door. They could hear Fire yell, “I love you, Gabby,” as she walked down the hall.
“I love you too, Fire,” Ice said in a quiet voice only she and The Detective could hear.
“Gabby?” he asked her, his now trademark smirk covering his stubbly face.
“Tell you what, 616,” she said as she smiled at him. “I’ll talk real names with you when you share yours.”
&n
bsp; He nodded. “Fair enough, princess.”
She pointed toward a hallway on the other side of the room. “The shower is down the hall and in my bedroom. You need to wash that old blood off, so I can get you patched back up before you bleed to death.”
“Didn’t think you cared,” he replied as he walked towards the hallway.
She shook her head from side-to-side. “Go now, before I change my mind and let you bleed out right here in the middle of my goddamn living room.”
He chuckled as he walked, looking back at her just to see the annoyed look on her beautiful face.
_______________________________________________
Journal Entry
[Found on page 78]
Note: The following is a speech given by the Canadian Prime Minister five years ago after a failed takeover attempt by several super powered operatives.
(The Minister sits at his desk, presumably in his office, wearing a black suit. He is visibly injured with several cuts and scrapes spread across his face. His nose looks broken.)
The Prime Minister: I speak tonight not only to my fellow Canadians, but also to the rest of our friends in the free world. Tonight, Canada resisted a takeover attempt from an armada made up of super powered soldiers. While I will publicly admit that some of these men and women were our own Canadian brothers and sisters, the majority of the attackers were American, acting on orders from our southern neighbor’s self appointed dictator, Bruce Rogers, the man once known as Agent America.
These murderous invaders targeted both our House Of Commons and my private home, hoping to use the old idea of dividing and conquering to their advantage. Luckily for us, our government’s private security team, made up of both normal humans and super powered operatives, was more than up to the task of defending this great nation. And while several losses were amassed on our side, brave men and women who will always and forever be considered amongst this country’s greatest heroes, this attacking force was decimated by our defenses, proving once and for all that a coalition of “normals” and “supers” cannot only survive together but thrive together.
