Sunday, June 9, 2013

Dusty Video Box Presents: Overmaster Wars: Delta City Doomsday Act One

Gabriella is the awesome creation of Angelic-Kitten. You can see pictures of her here at

Golden Angel, White Venus, and Shining Star are creations of the spectacular Paulposer: ...Golden Angel can be found here:

B69 is the fine creator of Sundancer and Nightfall:

And Thunderbolt Woman sprung from the mind of Mr. Brad Chung, who is continuing to bring forth new superheroines in the world of heroine peril.

"From Eons Ago, rising from the primal chaos of the galaxy, comes the most ominous figure of all time...the Overmaster! Dedicated to a single objective...the conquest of Earth's superheroines! Only one team dares to battle this intergalactic threat...the Protectors of Justice!"

Overmaster Wars:
Delta City Doomsday: Act I
By M. Hadley

An alarming realization struck the powerful Don of Delta City, Salvador Silvia, as he waited patiently at his table, flanked by his Number Two and a boisterous stripper in a star-spangled bikini. Surrounding him was a colorful cast of rogues: to his left were the sensational Asian criminal siren known as the Empress of Dragons, her entourage of sexy kunochi in barely-there ninja jumpsuits, the circus ringmaster-themed Master of Ceremonies, his clown henchmen, sword-swallower, and the second-in-command of his Crime Circus, the Bearded Lady,. To his right was the yellow and black striped Queen Bee, her similarly themed Hive Girls(brainwashed supermodels all), and the old mad scientist known simply as "The Lord", with his massively overgrown simple-minded behemoth of a son, "The Disciple".

He leaned over to whisper in the ear of Jacob Glass, his Number Two. "I need a costume."

The always reserved Jacob blinked for a second, before replying, "But you are a businessman, sir."

"Aren't you always talking about healthy competition in the marketplace, Jakey-boy?" Don Silvia spat slightly, half in jest, half in annoyance as he ran his coarse fingers through the red locks of the stripper sitting in his lap, snuggling against him.

"We sell drugs and protection, sir." Glass replied without missing a beat. "Not insanity. We're in the midst of madmen, low-lives, and thieves, whose various motivations are all over the place. They are not your competition, sir."

The stripper chuckled heartily at the madmen remark, joined by the Don.

"Yeah, you're right." The crimelord agreed composedly. " It's not like we're losing customers...just, the fear thing...that's what I'm talking about. I worry about my reputation, Jakey-boy. It's not what it used to be. The store owners pay up, sure. But you can see the defiance in their eyes, and its not because of the superbroads prancing around in their short underwear. I only have the muscle-bound mooks in too little suits, armed with pistols, blackjacks, and other forms of crippling technology. How can you compete for fear with a broad that can control carnivorous bees or a man with a mind-controlling top hat and a fire breather that worships him like a god?"

"People put their stock in fear too much, in my opinion." Glass coolly took a sip of his brandy. "Fear turn people against you. Fear makes you lose business. Respect is what you want, sir. something you can buy and sell."

The Don stared at his lieutenant for a second, his eyes narrowing into slits as he considered the possibilities. "You're a good brain, Jakey-boy."

Glass smiled embarrassingly, basking in his employer's praise. "I got the business cards right here. I can pass them out after the festivities. Of the crop, I think Queen Bee and the Empress of Dragons can be bought-"

"Why the hell we're here...and how long we have to wait, Jakey-boy?" Don Silvia moaned, polishing off his liquor in one gulp and slamming the glass on the table as hard as he could without shattering it.

" don't like my company?" the stripper pouted playfully, crossing her arms over her bountiful chest.

"Of course, sweet thing." The Don nudged her chin with his index finger and thumb. "But I have a stripper pole in my office and you'd look better with the Delta City skyline behind you than this seedy setup..."

"Actually, 'Yoshiwara' is a brilliant name for a strip club, boss." Glass smirked, reclining in his plush chair. "Just like the Japanese red-light district, we're here for carnal pleasures, and disarmed at the door. Someone had class when they opened this joint."

"Anybody can read Wikipedia, Jakey-boy." Don Silvia snorted. " got a good brain, nevertheless."

There was a subvert nervousness, uncharacteristic of his superior, that Jacob Glass was picking up on. It was healthy paranoia, one trait vital to the operation helmed by a brilliant leader. The host of the informal get-together was unknown, and his emissaries mysterious. Glass was still baffled by how the hooded figure had effortlessly infiltrated their fortress-like skyscraper headquarters, a feat failed by many of Delta City's superhuman champions. It was as if he had simply materialized within the expansive office of the Don, undaunted by the impressive level of firepower wielded by the mob boss's security.

The voice of the intruder was mechanical, as if filtered through an intercom. He had simply extended an invitation to Yoshiwara, a fresh component to the Don's metropolitan empire. The enigmatic creature waited for no answer. Before the stunned Don could whip out his own golden Magnum, the cloaked being had vanished just as suddenly as it appeared. The Don thought it initially beneath him to play to another's tune, especially someone that was unknown. However, he also thought it a sign of weakness, a crack in the veneer of invincibility he had so long crafted as Delta City's greatest underworld figure, if he did not show his face for the proceedings.

Now the kingpin waited, successfully hiding his bated breath, for what would unfold next. His right hand lingered near his left golden cufflink, a secret summoner for his ubiquitous army of enforcers, stationed in front of the club and hidden around it.

He did not have to wait long. All activity suddenly stopped in the seedy establishment, a freeze frame of colorful characters in bizarre costumes. Even the huge bees flying about Queen Bee's behive hairdo seem to cease with their buzzing, such swiftness as if the very sound had been stolen from their beating wings.

Not a pin drop, or a solid clink of ice against liquor glass.

All eyes were drawn to the stage of the club, where three cloaked figures, living shadows, seemingly materialized out of thin air. The one of the center of their line suddenly sauntered up to the stripper pole and whirled around it like an expert dancer. As its feet hit the ground from the revolution, it began to perform an graceful erotic dance, with sensual moves that rivaled the best Yoshiwara had to offer.

The assembled crooks, shocked and confused beyond measure, did not know initially how to react. But soon, slobbering grunts from the massive Disciple soon incited infectious fervor from the male criminals, with the exception of Don Silva and his lieutinant.

"Fresh meat?" Don gave the stripper at his table a suspicious look.

"Beats the hell out of me, sugar..." the redhead shrugged, a mixture of fear and astonishment on her pretty face.

"I can't say that I dig the Sith angle..." Glass murmured under his breath.

Onstage, the cloaked dancer finshed its routine by sliding upside down the pole and landing neatly on its feet. Then, walking to the edge of the stage before its audience, it reached for its hood and revealed its features, causing gasps of astonishment to explode from the assembled hoods.

The head was a reflective silvery skeleton, with harsh blue spotlight eyes that practically blinded the crowd. The grinning skull, the haunting juxapotation of the Grim Reaper with the sensational sexuality of a pole dancer, hissed menacingly at Delta City's underworld. It was soon joined by the other two, stepping beside her in eerie unison and pulling their hoods from their skulls as well.

Don Silva's finger lingered at his golden cufflink, only to be gently grasped at the wrist by Glass, who shook his head disapprovingly. His Number Two was right. Jumping the gun could be destructive to his invincible image.

"What izzzzz thizzzz?" The Queen Bee droned, slamming an angry fist on her table.

"I gave up a perfect night of experimenting with cheerleaders for this nonsense." the Lord sniffed arrogantly with his long nose in the air.

"Patience." an eloquent, mascaline voice suddenly boomed. "Even those who walk the world of the dark should practice virtues."

"Are you the host of this circus?" the Master of Ceremonies motioned to his clown henchmen to scurry about the tables to search for the voice's source.

The buffonish ensemble did not have to look for long, as all eyes were once again drawn to the stage. The skull-faced figures. still as statues, were joined by a fourth. The being was tall, and rather majestic, clad in strange sleek silvery blue armor that left everything to the imagination. Even the eyes were not visible, being instead devilish red orbs that seemed to burn into one's soul. Razor-sharp bullhorns curved from both sides of the being's helmet, stretching several inches into the air.

A black cape billowed regally behind the egnimatic being as it slowly moved to the front of the stage. The three skull-faced figures stepped meekly aside as the being approached, bowing deeply in unison.

Don found himself experiencing something that had been rendered foreign, ever since he seized power in the Delta City underworld.

Dread. In the limited light of the strip club, the mysterious armored figure on stage resembled the Devil himself.

"I take it that the show...was not to your liking?" the eloquent mascaline voice spoke again, this time radiating from the armored being.

"Lucas beat you to it, buddy!" the Bearded Lady jeered. "The Darth Vader routine is so overdone!"

"Silenzze, you foolzzz!" the Queen Bee growled. "Obviouzzzzly, thizzz man has a reazzzon to call uzzzz together..."

"Call my beauty a fool again, Bee..." The Master of Ceremonies turned towards her and wiped his gloved finger across his throat in a slashing manner.

"Cut if out, you mooks." Glass snarled. "Let the guy have the floor..."

The two quarreling villains instantly quieted down, showcasing the pull Silva had in the metropolis. All attention returned to the caped man in glistening silver blue armor and devil horns.

"Thank you." the being nodded towards Glass and Silver. "Now, questions are part of human nature. You all have them. But I'm sure at the end of my spiel, you won't need them anymore."

"Well...get on with it!" the Disciple bellowed, hurling phlem in the air.

"How can I refuse vigor like that, hmmm?" the armored being laughed, a sinister chortle of gruff thunder. "But honestly, fiends...I would have to start a long time ago, in a lifetime far, far, away. many of us were born into a world of superheroines?"

Various hands shot up around the confines of the small club.

"Yes, those big-breasted powerhouse bimbos have been a staple of society for quite some time now, right?" the being continued. "They have been thorns in our sides, stopping profits, halting our fun...right? We're society's predators! We play a role in people's lives, eh? We make them appreciate them. Without us...society would not care about would be much too easy, and then...much too boring!"

"Hell yeah!" one of the clown minions of the Master of Ceremonies chimed in.

"I had it worst, my fiends." the caped being walked back and forth. "I had a superheroine ruin my entire life. She took employment from my mother and father, and later took their lives. This was BEFORE my jaunt into the dark, back when life was sunny, and full of hope...back when I would have been happy to be some nameless nobody, surfing rainbows through life."

He stopped and pointed to the audience. "You all and I differ in our viewpoints on superheroines. For you, they are simply a hinderance, a nuisance. A fly can be a nuisance. Rain can be a nuisance. But for me...they are a disease, eating away at the body...a subtle danger that can snuff out a life. For me, they are the fly that poison you with germs. They are the rainstorm that destroy homes. They are eating away at this society, destroying our very way of life."

"So what do you propose to do about it, Jim Jones?!" Don Silva exploded. "So far, all I'm feelin' is hot air, and its starting to dry me out!"

"You've dedicated your life to vice, Mr. Silva." the egnimatic character said harshly. "I've dedicated my life to the capture and subjection of superheroines. We are both experts at what we do."

He pointed towards the three skullfaced figures. "Behold, my lovely wives...the greatest expression of superheroine humilation and eradication technology ever conceived. Powered by liquid chloroform, with fifty times the strength of the greatest of bionic women and armed with the most lethal capturing and killing technology ever-"

"Hmmph! I've built robots before!" the Lord sniffed, waving the being on stage off.

Upon an unseen cue, the three skull-faced beings disrobed, revealing shapely female, but silvery skeletal bodies with visual tubes connecting to various joints around their bodies. A bluish-greenish liquid flowed through these tubes, disappearing into the sculptured bosoms of the strange beings. A haze seem to flow about the bodies of the silver trio, as if it was heat.

"Not like these." the caped being chuckled sinisterly. "The Synturions are one of a kind."

"So...thezzz thingzzz..." The Queen Bee's eyes widened fearfully as she gave the three silvery gynoids the lookover. "How do we know they will be able to defeat a superheroine?"

"Because..." the armored man stepped backward while the Synturions stepped menacingly forward. "You get to see them work first hand..."

"God damn it!" Don managed to stutter, pushing his cufflink as hard as he can. He only had time to draw his golden Magnum before the Synturions leaped into the air for the attack.

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