Marvel Iron Age: Lady Deathstrike #1

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Time_Phantom

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#1  Edited By Time_Phantom

Marvel Iron Age: Lady Deathstrike #1

Osaka, Japan

Day:

The Hand since its beginnings as a society of assassins has since the Iron army’s control over Japan has turned into a legitimate business of sorts. They keep crime low all over the country and public members are well respected and answer to the Iron Hall in Tokyo. Some factions wish to go back to the old way.

“Now, Boss Harada,” Boss Harada was the regional leader of the Hand. He sat in his office in an Osaka high rise, overlooking his city. His body guards lay in pieces all over the floor; blood splashed the walls, and soaked the carpet. Above him stood a girl that had to be no younger than thirteen, she had a grim smile on her face and she was covered in blood.

“We’ve had this conversation before.” She grunted driving her over sized katana through, Boss Harada’s chest. “You may be content with being the Iron Army’s whore but I am not.”

The leader of the head tried to speak, but only blood came gargled out of his mouth. “What was that?” She asked, putting her ear to the man and at the same time driving the blade deeper. “I am now the eternal leader of the Hand?”

She ripped the blade from, Harada’s chest. She looked up in the balcony above her stood dozens of ninja, wearing red uniforms, the glow in their eyes suggesting unknown cybernetic implants. “Any objections?” She asked with an almost childlike innocence.

They all stood straight and saluted. “When the five fingers of the hand come together for a single, unified purpose the hand becomes an object of unwavering power!” They all say in perfect unison.

The girl pulls a cloth from Harada’s pocket and cleans her sword. “Good.”

Tokyo,

Club Nagoya:

Former S.H.I.E.L.D agent Ngumi Takada sat at the bar, downing another glass of Captain and coke. “Another!” She demanded. She was restless for the last two days she had been staking this club out. She could ignore the flashing lights, she didn’t mind the poor service at the bar and she didn’t much care for the fact that people stared at her. “It is like none of them have seen a sword before” she thought. But the music. A mix of swing, rap, and electronica! She hated it so much.

“I really miss the twenty first century.” She lamented. She scratched at the bar, waiting for her drink. Her drink slid down to her, a note was under the glass. It read:

Boss Goto will see you, upstairs.

Ngumi left her drink at the table and made her way to the dance floor, were a spiral staircase lead up to the VIP lounge, a smoky, soundproofed room. From here a black tinted window blocked the strobe outside. Ngumi got up there the first thing she saw were just three body guards wearing domino masks. Sitting on a large couch, with a woman in his lap was a short fat man, with a cigar dangling from his mouth. “I’m guess from all the stereo-types in the room, you’re Boss Goto?” Ngumi’s asked, scanning the room at a glance.

“You’ve been coming here every night for the last two nights.” He said, in a voice that sounded like ground gravel. He gestured to his guards and they walked toward the former shield agent.

“We need your blade, ma’am.” One of them said reaching out to, Ngumi.

Ngumi rolled her eyes and took the man’s hand. She twisted it and thrust it upward, breaking his wrist. Before the other two could draw their weapons, Ngumi whipped behind them so fast they didn’t notice her drawing her sword from her back and before they knew it, her blade was tucked under their chins. The blade’s edge pressed against their throats, and blood trickled down from their necks. “I haven’t killed anyone in days so if you don’t want this conversation to turn into a murder I suggest you speak up.”

Boss Goto laughed, a billow of smoke blew from his mouth. “Very good! But—“

Ngumi could barely hear it over the music, but the sounds of foot steps behind her was unmistakable. She swung her sword around and it was stopped in mid air, the clank of metal meeting metal rang in the room. “Really?” Ngumi sighed.

“Ah!” One of the body guards charged her with his sword pointed at her. Ngumi took a step back, letting the guard go forward with his charge. The other two from before did the same. Ngumi rolled out of the way and let them go ahead. On the other side of the room, one of the guards pulled their blade out of the wall, shortly after a man wearing the uniform of a Hand ninja materialized on front of him and slumped on the floor.

“Are all Hand ninja that loud?” Ngumi got into a defensive stance and readied for the next attack. The three guards raised their sword for another attack, Ngumi let them get close. With one swing of her sword she ran the blade’s edge across the throats of all three guards. Nearly decapitating them, “You need better henchmen.”

Boss Goto was petrified and didn’t dare move. The woman he was with let out a loud shriek and ran from the room, bumping, Ngumi on the way out. “Now, Boss Goto what I’m about to do to you is very unprofessional and immature.”

As, Ngumi walked closer to Goto, he reached in his jacket. Ngumi threw her sword and pinned his arm to his chest with it. “But I think when you really want a certain kind of message to be sent you have to toss professionalism aside.”

Osaka, Japan

Later that night:

The eternal leader of The Hand sat in her new office and stared at the man giving her a report. He was one of the ninja; she recruited to take out the other boss’s not a part of her plans for the organization. “Our assassin’s made it to, Boss Goto’s club.”

She walked around in circles, admiring the still blood covered architecture. The top floor had wide swooping arches, wood paneling on the walls and floor and a marble stair case that lead to her desk. “And?”

“He was dead when we got there and his guards as well.” He answered, his voice shaken.

“Did anyone see anything?”

“No.” the ninja answered. He pulled a data pad that contained a picture of the now deceased, Boss of the Hand. She took the data pad. Boss Goto lied on the floor, stripped down to his underwear. On his chest were carved the words: Deathstrike.

The girls eyes grew wide and a smile stretched across her face. “Oh, Ngumi. You make everything so exciting!”

Authors Note: If you read this while my school computer was being strange and turned this into a wall of text then sorry. Fixed! Please comment.

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joshmightbe

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#2  Edited By joshmightbe

Great job, got kind of a kill Bill vibe to it.

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batkevin74

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#3  Edited By batkevin74

@Time_Phantom: I concur with @joshmightbe: it's a Kill Bill-esque vibe and be god it's good! There's a bit of mystery on who the OTHER woman is, I'm hoping she's new with some links to the past. Good work.

Also @Time_Phantom said: This isn't a long time, two nights in a row. 4, 5, 9 yes but 2 she could be there for the weekend ;)

“You’ve been coming here every night for the last two nights.”
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Time_Phantom

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#4  Edited By Time_Phantom

@joshmightbe: @batkevin74: Well it is the start of a revenge story. And Batkev, you've got to look at the way, Ngumi is. She goes in doesn't make any attempt to talk to anyone and she sticks out like a sore thumb with this 2200 crowd. That and a few months ago her face was plastered as one of the "terrorists" responsible for the Chicago Inccident. People recognise you when that happens. And the late Boss Goto is a little paranoid. (Leaders of the Hand are turning up dead.)

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tomdickharry1984

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#5  Edited By tomdickharry1984

Whisltes Kill Bill theme and axiously waits for more :)

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batkevin74

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#6  Edited By batkevin74

@Time_Phantom: I get that now, but working in a bar like I do 2 days is nothing! But this is really good man and I like that Ngumi is getting to stretch her new found wings.