Ultimate Central: The Fanfic - volume 6

DIrishB said:
Over there.
Click to expand...

No, I moved it. It was in my way.

It's over there now. Please leave it there.
 
The next issue, the "Houde Happy Hour" is on Thursday.

(Man, I should've called it that.)
 
If Bass beats me, I am not going to read this.
 
Doc Comic said:
Sore loser.
Click to expand...

It was a joke. :wink:

Besides, I'm not the one who was going to leave because no one voted for me.
 
Bass said:
ULTIMATE CENTRAL #43
"I Am The Ultimate Houde"​
All-Houde issue! Broken, beaten, and alone, Ultimate Houde travels up the mountain of Erymanthus and down into the town of Pholus, to confront its tyrant - the magical Trevor!

Set before Nurhachi's Christmas Special, see the three amazing guardians of Pholus, and Ultimate Houde's dramatic confrontation with magical Trevor. It's sword versus sorcery!

From the writer critics are calling "Hype-Lord", marvel at the return of an old Avatar and the convictions of Ultimate Houde in the next exciting issue of Ultimate Central!
Click to expand...
BADGERS!
 
ucff43cover2jh.jpg


SIXTEEN DAYS AGO​


A Long Road Winding Up A Mountain

Winds ripped through the air, biting onto the world. A solitary figure strides up the stone-rock path, trudging through wet mud. The air, always moving, is fresh and rejuvenating, as it thrashes in from the sea tides so close by and so far down. Spots of cold rain, unceremoniously burst as they hit the floor. Grass, torn by winds, still grows up from the malleable mud. Fresh life smells. Muscles sieze and everything feels further away as the instinct of the brain tells the body it should be curled into a ball, protecting itself from the harsh weather.
But not so for Ultimate Houde.
Through rain, gale, and mud, he treads up this forgotten path, so seldom trod, for his quarry.
He passes by foundations built in stone, silently telling stories of past glories so long now lost, so long now taken away.
The cold is a blessing, for it grants numbness from pain. Houde's injuries are no longer so occupying his mind, and in some strange way, he misses this. The pain kept him focused. But no matter, for he knows he will endure much before he finds his rest.
His boots are ragged, reminiscent of burnt rubber, his clothes torn by claw and horn. His body beaten and broken by metal and bone - and lightning. His gloves more a broken wish for warm hands, than protection. Every move aches.

All he carries, all that is with him; only binoculars, and a small frog-shaped hook, attached to scrounged silk.

Still he marches.

He comes at last, to the summit. The grey clouds form fog, blurring his vision to the bottom of the valley. He smells a fire. A warm fire. But not so warm to him. His resistance to fire, to heat, means it will take much for him to feel at home again.

But he is not here for fire.

Perched at his tower, is the flying man. His heart beats like the wings of eagles. And from his warm tower, he sees to the bottom of the valley. He sees the town of Pholus, all of its inhabitants. He sees them and they know. He is watching them. They dare not. He sees them. He sees Houde. He knows he's been walking up Mount Erymanthus, but with the beating he'd already given him - the flying man never believed he would reach the summit. He turns and smiles at Houde.

Houde sprints for the tower, and the flying man beats his heart and ascends to the air. From high above, the flying man drops rocks onto Houde, who drives past them, and hops his way up the flying man's tower. More rocks fall, and so does small, light rain, so cold, it feels like ice, and Houde slips. A rock falls, dislocating one of his shoulders. Houde plummets to the ground, and moves, writhes and turns the landing to his advantage and sets his shoulder. He yells, but makes no sound, the pain and cold steal his breath before he can make it.

The flying man descends, circling to pick up the scraps of Houde.

Houde musters what strength he can, and stands up, darting the frog-shaped hook into the flying man's leg. The flying man bawks in pain, and attempts to flee, but the hook is attached to a silken ribbon, and holding onto the other end is Houde. He pulls with all his might, and the flying man flies in the other direction. Houde cannot ground the flying man, and the hook rips through flesh and drops to the floor. But the hook is designed to do more damage on the way out than in, and the gaping hole in his leg, grounds the flying man.

In the cold, wet grassland, on the hard stone-rock path, the flying man grabs his leg, screaming. Houde grabs a brand from the fire and runs to the flying man, and with one swift hit to the head - the flying man will never scream again.

Houde rests a moment, and uses his binoculars to start out over Pholus. He sees the people, but more importantly he sees the guards, he sees their movements and their shifts. He sees all.

They will not escape.

When the site Ultimate Central began giving people incredible abilities, its creator, Ultimate E created a team of heroes to bring justice to the world and deal with the astounding effects of the site. Of those affected, one claims no allegiance, instead wandering the globe looking for his long lost girlfriend. He is Ultimate Houde.​


~ NURHACHI PRESENTS ~
ULTIMATE CENTRAL
THE FANFIC
"I AM THE ULTIMATE HOUDE"
Volume 6, Issue 43, By Bass​


Ultimate Houde - surreal man with ninja skills, and a sword that can create flame and cut through reality

Pholus

Small rock huts baked into wetlands and stone, streets cascading and all leading to the castle in the centre. Fires burn all across, lighting the now silent night sky into a warm orange-purple. Wooden wheels creak throughout the streets, horseshoes tap on stone. A held back town, surrounded by a wall, hidden from the rest of the world. Kept secret and alone. And for one reason. Magical Trevor, the tyrant-wizard of Pholus, drunk on his own power.

The stone walls of Pholus pose a challenge. Not so when Houde first arrived at Pholus, for then, he was a welcome guest. But that welcome wore out quicker than most, and Houde would be content to move on, as he has done in the past. But not this time.

Past the walls, there are four entrances, one for each direction, and all are constantly guarded. Houde cannot pass them without being caught, and his journey would be cut too short.

On the jagged sides of Erymanthus, Houde holds himself onto the ledge. His gloves wear against the wet rock, his bones shiver in the cold winds. Upside down, crouched, he looks directly beneath him, at one of the look-out towers. The look-out is being brought a warm meal. Houde will wait for the second guard to leave, at least that way, if he survives the forty foot drop, he'll just have to contend with one guard.

But the rock is wet - and his gloves slip.

Plummeting backwards through the air, Houde takes no look at the quickly advancing lookout tower, and throws out his frog-shaped hook, hoping for it to take hold in the side of the mountain.

It does.

Then, it doesn't. It cannot support Houde's weight and just flies out of the rock face, and small rocks and pebbles falls from the whole. He can't stop himself from falling, and he lands with a terrible thud onto the cone-topped lookout tower.

The thud is noticed by the guards who move to investigate, but see rocks falling off Erymanthus above, and sigh in relief - and in boredom.

Houde, with nothing to grip onto, slips off the edge. Using his frog-hook, he embeds it into the cone-top, and holds himself up with his bad shoulder. He yells, but once more he has no sound to make. Pulling his legs up, he waits for the second guard to leave.

And leave he does. The guard sits down for his meal, and Houde tackles him from above, swining in underneath the cone top, dropping him with a single kick.

A kick perhaps too powerful, as the lookout drops over the side of the tower.

The soldiers shout.

Houde looks down and sees a garrison.

Soldier: "It's Houde! He's come back! Sound the alarm!"

The soldiers run to the ladder and begin climbing. Houde kicks the ladder off the tower and, balancing on the rung with expert equilibrium, he jumps off onto the townspeople's rooftops.

His feet slide a little upon landing, but he keeps going, he runs and hops over rooftops as alarms ring and people yell. He will get to the castle.

Arrows flit through the air, and Houde deftly escapes them all, but cannot retain his balance, and one jump too far, he slips and falls, into the fire-heaths, in the town square. The town square, is lit up with pyres, flickering in the coarse breeze. Statues and idols designed as furnaces, burning. A heat haze envelops.

Smelling the burnt embers, and his own clothes burning, Houde sneezes, and gets up out of the fire, putting out the fires on his quickly falling apart robes. Houde himself, is, strangely enough, pleasantly warm.

Grabbed by the scruff of his neck, Houde is pounced upon, and pressed into the stone and fire floor of the square. Claws slice at Houde's back, shredding his coat. Although he has yet to see his assailant, Houde is convinced it is the pride of Trevor's army, it's general. Faster than the eye, a true hunter with long red hair, he uses gauntlets with huge claws instead of the regular weapons of his soldiers. He likes to be close to his prey.

Houde tries to stand up, but the general just knocks him to the floor. Another claw drags, slower and more deliberately this time, across Houde's back. The general moves his head closer to Houde, he smiles and growls…

General: "Your head will be mounted, onto the walls of my barracks."

The general flashes the smile of a predator, his carved teeth glinting in the fire-light, rancid meat on his breath, sniffing his nose at Houde.

Houde thrusts his jaw out and bites the general's nose - off. The general recoils in agony, Houde spits out the nose and grabs the general. His men, watching the fight, a fight they've witnessed many times before, but never with this outcome, draw their arrows and fire at Houde. Houde grabs the general, and props him up like an inhuman shield. Flecked with arrows, the soldiers gasp in horror, and stop their volley. The general, barely able to move, is helpless as Houde, using the general's claws, removes his head.

The body drops to the floor, and Houde holds the general's head up high, by its mane, it hair, long and red.

The soldiers terrified, awe-struck, do not stand in Houde's way as he strolls up to the castle.

Every step Houde takes ricochets through his body in a desperate attempt for rest. But Houde does not do so. His knees buckle, his ankles twist, but he arrives at the gate of the castle, brandishing the general's head. The guards, in terror, open the castle doors. Houde drops his arm and continues his march. The soldiers try to flee, but they cannot turn away. They must watch.

The castle is lavish, warm, the winds are swallowed up by the space. Hand crafted, every stone. Perfected details. A cave of wonders, for unlike most castles, this one does not build up into the winds, but down into the fresh molten air of the earth itself, it burrows deep beneath the wet soil. A castle cave.

Houde makes his way through castle cave, and to the chamber of Trevor. Walls of soil and ivy, sculpted into walls are ornaments. To Trevor's inner sanctum, the doors are stories high. The guards do not open the doors for Houde, for they cannot. There is no key to open them from the outside.

Klink klink.

Crafted metal on padded down earth echoes through the hall, and is soon swallowed up.

The goliath snorts with reluctant impression towards Houde and how far he has come. The goliath, standing nine-feet tall, bearing a face that has been hit and bitten and cut many times, with his brutish hands, slams the top of his helmet, covered in spikes. He cracks his leather knuckles.

Houde sees his sword, thrown on the floor inbetween him and the goliath. The challenge is obvious.

Houde jumps for the sword, but the goliath gets their first, and rams Houde into the wall. Rock smoke and mud dust rises into the stagnant air as Houde bounces off the wall, and then the floor. The goliath laughs with boast. Sadly, his arrogance is not unjustified. He has never failed.

Houde stands to his feet as the goliath saunters up to him. Houde feints left, then darts right, hoping to get past the goliath and too his sword, but the goliath grabs him and lifts him so effortlessly into the air. Houde uses the momentum to swing out of the goliath's grip, land, and dart between his legs. Again the goliath grabs him, but now with both hands and holds him off the ground by his shoulders. How can something so big, move so fast?

Krunk.

The goliath, with his spiked helmet, headbutts Houde. The spikes puncture his face, his jaw cracks, and some of his teeth shatter.

The goliath smirks smug at Houde. Houde, unable to raise his head, but raising his swollen and bleeding eyes, stares the goliath defiantly. He spits out one of his teeth aggressively into the goliath's face.

The goliath chuckles.

Houde, in desperation, head butts the goliath. It hurts. But not the goliath.

The goliath chuckles.

Houde tries to lift his arms up, but because he is being held up by his shoulders, he can only move his forearms. He does so, resting his hands on the goliath's arms. And surreptitiously palms the frog-hook. As the goliath raises Houde for a final headbutt, Houde stabs the goliath's arm.

Bellowing in torment, the goliath chucks Houde far into the air, but Houde deftly uses the momentum to slide down the goliath's arm. Reaching to hold onto anything, Houde falls to the goliath's helmet. He grabs onto it, but it slides off the recoiling goliath, and Houde slides down his back with it. The goliath tears the hook out of his arm, which hurts even more. He throws it away. He turns to Houde, who is barely able to stand up, shaking the helmet as a shield. The goliath in disgust, slaps the helmet to the floor. Houde seizes his moment and thrusts the binoculars into the goliath's face. The binoculars shatter, tearing Houde's hands - but the blind the goliath.

The goliath stumbles, blind and flailing his fists, moaning and bawling. Houde, enraged, picks up the goliath's helmet and punches it into the goliath's stomach, winding him. The goliath drops to his knees and tries to breathe. Now Houde's height, Houde pounds the helmet into the goliath's head. He drops to all floors. Again. He's flat onto the floor. Again. The goliath will not be getting up. Again. Again. Again. Houde, his body waving back and forth, stands over the goliath's body, and yells a laugh at him, but it's little more than a single loud burst of air, for Houde cannot muster more.

Dropping the misshapen helmet, Houde staggers over two his sword. Bending over to pick it up, he does so with a single swing, for he knows if he were to stay too close to the ground now, he would not get back up. His vision blurry, the world swimming around him, he stumbles to the doors. Houde has been inside them only once before. He haphazardly uses his sword to cut a teleportational gateway and steps through, arriving on the other side of the doors.

The inner sanctum is a huge tower, ascending and descending, of cloud and light. It makes the softest ground, like warm snow.

Trevor, the wizard-tyrant of Pholus, steps off his throne. Houde stammers towards him.

Trevor: "Hah. Look at you. You can't even walk."

Houde keeps coming towards him. Trevor's feigned humour at this situation fades.

Trevor: "What do you want? We let you go! We let you live! You have your sword! WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT?!"

Houde continues. Trevor raises his arms into the air, his long sleeves pulling back as lightning spreads across to his fingertips like veins.

Trevor: "One more step! I'll kill you! YOU'LL DIE!"

Houde… stops. He stands, his body turned to the side, and his sword behind him, as if waiting to be drawn. His bones ache. His tongue swims in the iron of his blood. He smells only salt. His muscles ache with every breath. He can feel bruises forming, swollen lumps, his eyes blackening. His head is light. He turns his eyes and stares at Trevor. Trevor's eyes are wide open, he's frozen in place, waiting for Houde to move. Houde places all his weight into his back leg, he focuses and concentrates. He starts to sink ever so into the cloud floor. He blinks. Each blink makes it harder for him to see, the blood flows into his eyes, each time it makes hit harder for him to raise his eyelids and stare Trevor in the eye. He stands a dozen feet away. Trevor reaffirms his position, in his current state, Houde could never reach him before he was struck down. But still Houde stares at Trevor. Trevor stares at Houde. With all his weight on his back leg, he lifts his front leg forward and steps forward. And Trevor unleashes lightning. Houde cuts a portal behind him, and with his weight back, just falls through it.

Trevor convulses and spits blood. He looks down and Houde's sword is in his belly. Standing behind him, in the same position, is Houde, his sword behind him and through his foe. The gateway, now in front of Houde, fades. The lightning dissipates. Trevor falls.

Houde takes a bronze globe from around Trevor's neck, and, with his sword scraping along the floor, shambles through the castle… until he comes across a vault. Houde has been here only once before. He has seen this. The vault has no normal lock, but a round, bizarrely indented hole. The globe fits in like a key and spreads out into four pieces. Houde pulls them open, and the vault opens into Trevor's treasury. Gold, art, food, and relic fill the vast expanse.

But Houde cares not. He continues inward, until he finds, shackled and in a lonely corner, a goblin like creature who has not seen daylight for weeks.

Ultimate Houde: "Rene. I'm here to take you home."

THE END


NEXT ISSUE - WHO CAN CHANGE THE WORLD? ​
 
Houde if freaking insane crazy !

Loved it you definately know how to write action scenes. Sweet jesus That was cool.

and the cover.....:rockon:
 
Bass, you really have made the best part of waiting for your issues the covers...

Although I have to hand it to you, you are fantastic at writing battle scenes.
 
Good... a short issue... good, good...

And the cover is grand.
 
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