Free The Other Eight by Joseph R. Lallo

aloud. He gritted his teeth and crumpled the
paper. “They’ll pay for this! They will pay! They will forever
curse the day they passed up the chance to join forces with me, Bottleneck!”
    He turned viciously back to the taxi—just in
time to see it drive away. His shoulders slumped. “Every. Single.
Time…” he muttered with a shake of his head.

Chapter 11
    The
meta-human condition tends to take three basic forms with regard to
working with others. I’ve classified these as Lone Wolf, Dynamic
Duo, and Team Player. Team Players believe that they should unite
with other heroes (or villains), and each member has a crucial role
to play. Dynamic Duos gravitate toward a pairing, with one-half of
the pair typically having more substantial powers and a greater
amount of experience, while the other half has low-level or
undeveloped powers, and youth. This is the standard hero/sidekick
pairing, and it is notable that most frequently the sidekick is the
one that initiates the partnership, essentially aspiring to a
secondary role. The Lone Wolf is, as the name suggests, much more
interested in working solo. This is by far the most common mindset
in the meta-human world.
    Excerpt from The Psychology of the Meta-human
Condition by Dr. Richard Liefeld
     
    After the jubilation of advancing to the next
round of selection had worn off, the bus ride to the boot camp
became remarkably silent. Not entirely silent, as the open-topped
troop carrier made for a very windy ride, but there was little in
the way of conversation. Many members of the group found their eyes
wandering to Nonsensica, no doubt due to the colorful “uniform” she
wore. The green-skinned Chloroplast caught his share of sideways
glances as well. The real star of the ride, though, wore a badge
marked “Primadonna.” She had attempted to make a similar fashion
statement as Nonsensica, but in many ways had been a good deal more
successful. She was wearing a snug pink and black spandex leotard
with matching tights. Around her waist she wore a tutu-like
micro-skirt, and a silver headband with the markings of a swan
perched on her head of lustrous blonde hair. Unlike the rather
meagerly proportioned Nonsensica, however, Primadonna had the hips,
chest, and legs that comic-book artists typically crafted such an
outfit to showcase. She was clearly well aware of it, too, because
rather than the utilitarian boots that Nonsensica wore, she had
selected sleek high-heeled boots that reached her knee, and the
chest of the leotard sported a rather immodestly plunging neckline.
Somewhat spoiling the look was the purse she had clutched at her
side, and the wheeled pink suitcase she’d brought along. Nonsensica
eyed her with sizzling anger.
    “No sense us just sitting around quietly. You
heard the doctor. We should get to know each other,” recommended
Phosphor. “What say we go around and say our names, powers, and
where we’re all from. I’ll start. My name’s Phosphor, I can pull
endless fluorescent bulbs from my bag, and I’m from just outside
Carmel, Indiana.”
    He turned expectantly to Chloroplast. The
young man was dressed in a way that likely would have drawn
attention even if he didn’t have green skin. His head was shaved
completely bald, and at first it seemed that he had no eyebrows,
but in reality they were just the same green color as his skin. He
wore a leather jacket, open in the front, with no shirt underneath.
His body didn’t have an ounce of fat on it, though there wasn’t
much in the way of muscle, either. The result was an oddly
stretched-out greyhound-like physique. He wore tattered jeans with
numerous holes, and black boots that he had neglected to tie.
Glancing around to see that he was now the undivided center of
attention, he rolled his eyes.
    “My name is Chloroplast. I’m from Venice
Beach, and I have the power of photosynthesis,” he said, as though
he was doing everyone a tiresome favor by doing so. Without being
asked, he went on to