Nothing is True. Everything is Connected.
Sylum Advent 2020: December 16th

Sylum Advent 2020: December 16th

This Advent there is a series of Snippets or Timestamps from a variety of stories & characters. Some of these will become larger stories, some will be as is.

Title: Lizard Signal
Author: Bj Jones
Sylum Timeline: 2017
Summary: Hannibal sent out the signal for help
Author’s Note: This particular snippet was inspired by: Welcome to the Party (feat. Zhavia Ward) – Diplo, French Montana & Lil Pump

‘Lizard Signal! Need assistance with a bad guy. A really bad, bad guy with bad friends.’

The text had gone out to those Hannibal trusted the most. It wasn’t often he sent out the lizard signal, but this was beyond him, and he really needed the help. Don was keeping an eye on him, as he fixed some blood, to help the wounds that were healing.

He had gotten the number, two days ago.

This wasn’t unusual.

For the past few years, he had received many of these. He learned quickly not to ask too many questions, Mr. Bird with Mr. Attack Spy – scared the living hell out of him. Also turned him on, but he wasn’t going to admit that outloud. Hey, the power they oozed was addicting. Mr. Bird could destroy nations, Mr. Attack Spy could destroy the world. Yet the two adored each other to no end.

Couple goals.

But this time it was different.

The phone told him that Mr. Bird and Mr. Attack Spy weren’t in the city. He panicked for a moment, but gave himself a pep talk, and started doing the research. It was nice when the computer gave him the information that he needed.

Six Mile Syndicate was moving into a new territory. Hannibal remembered the bastards, they had attacked a church a couple of years ago, Mr. Attack Spy had become a daddy … his kid looked alot like Paul – even had his ‘Jedi skills’. It had taken him longer than it should’ve to realize Paul was a Mutant.

A Mutant that came from a powerful family.

Hannibal had Carter and Lionel for back up, but obviously these guys had learned from Tupac’s fuck up.

They were organized and heavily armed.

Lionel had gone down first.

Carter tore through them, defending her partner.

Hannibal took out at least half, but paid the price in bullet holes. He may be a Vampire, but it was enough that it would put him down for a few days, he didn’t have Deadpool’s healing skills – nor his crazy no matter what anyone said.

Don had been terrified, hell he had been terrified.

“I’m calling for help.” Hannibal downed his third blood packet, and shifted the icepack on this thigh.

‘Lizard Signal! Need assistance with a bad guy. A really bad, bad guy with bad friends.’

“Zoe politely informed me that Carter wasn’t in the city, and Lionel was still recovering.” Don ran a hand through his Mate’s hair.

“Good.” Hannibal didn’t want either one of them near this situation. Though he was sure Carter and Zoe would be having words, it’s what Mates did, they protected each other. He liked the cop, she was a damn good Hunter. A few more years, she’ll be top notch. Parker was talking about sending her to Chicago to work with Sam Steele, then maybe over to Serenity to work with Bunyan.

Lionel knew his limits, told him he would sit this one out. But when the bullets stopped flying, call him in, he can do what he does best … cover tracks.

‘What trouble have you gotten into? – P’

‘Do you know what fucking time it is you fucking asshole! I’m letting Yasuke beat your white ass for waking us up. Fuck. Fucking to early for dealing with this fucking shit.’

‘I’ll get coffee into him, before he flies to New York just to kill you.’

Hannibal chuckled at the text messages.

‘Gang that tried to take over a neighborhood two years ago got caught while shooting up a church, has decided that if it didn’t work the first time – it should work a second. This time hitting a community center full of old people.’

‘Fucking assholes.’

‘And you’re calling us why? – P’

‘Cause this time they are better armed and actually learned a few things. Got my ass shot, and two of my team went down. Lucky already dead so will recover.’

‘Will send flight information, once I get grumpy out of the shower.’

‘Fuck all of you.’

‘Yasuka, I’m actually in Japan, I will meet you at the airport.- P’

‘Bring the Lizard Army!’

‘I’ll let Dan hit you – P’


JFK – International Airport

Paul Mallory unhooked his seatbelt as soon as the Airbus settled at the gateway. He stood, smiled at the Flight Attendant, who handed him his coat, it was a breezy 10 degrees with a windchill factor of -5. He pulled the coat tight, slipped on his gloves, then grabbed his leather satchel, and swung it over his chest, letting it rest on his lower back.

She gave him a sly smile, slipping a sheet of paper into his pocket before moving past him to help another passenger. Paul rolled his eyes, pulled the phone number from his pocket and tossed the note into the first trashcan he found in the terminal.

He pulled out his phone, to see at least three different messages from Joshua, who sent updates on Blue, and bitching that Houdini disappeared … again. He replied to check the Harry Potter Themed room, he likes to play a Slytherin.

‘The sad thing you’re not kidding.’

‘After I save Hannibal, I’ll be coming home for a few weeks. Told M need time off.’

‘That squee you heard from England was David, reading over my shoulder. The scream you heard was ‘Hermonie’ finding the snake.’

‘Next time call Harry.’


Paul put his phone away, smiled at the TAS Officer, as he handed over his passport. “Every time I come back, I forget how cold it is.”

The guy snorted, checking over the passport and papers. “How long were you in Japan?”

“Two weeks, attended a conference on the Etymology of Paper. I was presenting, ‘Paper: Fundamental in the History of Revolutions’. I teach at NYU, in their Library and Archive program.”

The guy stared at him for a few moments, then handed him back the passport. “Sounds like a thrilling time. Welcome home, Dr. Malloy.”

Paul gave him a nod, bore them enough, they will shove anyone through the line so they don’t have to listen to some enthusiastic professor. Just as he exited the Passport Control, he could hear his fellow passengers.

“I can’t stand. I have no fucking legs you wanna be mall cop!”

Paul turned slightly, to see Yasuke in a different line being stared at. He made his way out to the waiting area, it didn’t take long to find Hannibal sitting at a Starbucks. He sat down next to him, blessing all the deities when the Hunter handed him a coffee.

“I’ve got twenty on Dan getting out before Yasuke.”

“Double, Yasuke is out before his Mate.”

Hannibal gave him a look over his hot chocolate. “You have an insider tip.”

“Dan was already at the mall cop stage.” He inhaled the blessed latte, then sipped the hot drink.


Yasuke took a calming breath, did a Hail Mary in his head, then gave the Agent a small smile. “Is there a problem?”

“You’re from Japan?” He asked, looking back down at the Passport then back at the man in front of him.

“Yes. Born in Tokyo.” He bit back the groan, there were times he had no problem screwing with perceptions, but today he didn’t have time. “Why?”

“Do you have any other ID?” The poor agent couldn’t stop glancing between the Passport and Yasuke.

He pulled out his Driver’s License, only to bite back the heavy sigh at the wide eyes. “Anything that shows your name?”

“What’s wrong with my name?” He asked, grabbing the ID and putting it back in his wallet, then holding up his AMEX card, luckily it also had his image.

“It’s just…”

“It’s what?”

“Michaels Yasuke?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, giving the man an intimidating look. Ignoring how badly he butchered the pronunciation of his name. “For you westerners, it’s Yasuke Michaels. Yasuke is my first name. I was named for the first black Samurai.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Is there a problem with my paperwork. I have an appointment to keep.” He pulled his tone, trying to at least try to be nice.

“I’m not sure this is real.” He put the Passport down, and gestured for his supervisor. “It seems fake.”

“Why, because I don’t fit your profile? Is it because I’m a six foot two black guy?” He gave up his patience, staring down the guy.

“Sir, I need you to calm down.” The Supervisor gave him a condescending smile as he stepped up to the desk. “What seems to be the problem?”

“Your Agent has not only insulted me personally, but my culture and heritage. Just because I don’t fit your narrow standards of what a Japanese person should look and sound like, he’s accusing me of lying.”

“Michaels Yasuke?”

He took a deep breath, sometimes he swore these guys do this shit on purpose, looking for a fight. “Yasuke is my first name. Traditional Japanese naming conventions, the surname is first.” He gave them both a look. “Which as a TSA Agent you should know that.”

“You have to admit it looks odd.”

“My father was an American soldier, who married a Japanese woman. I look like dad. Would you like my whole family history, DNA, first born kid…”

“You don’t have to get snarky.” The Supervisor gave him a disapproving look, then glancing over at security, then back at Yasuke – showing him how much power he had.

“I’m here on business, attending a conference at the UN, ironically discussing the sharing of culture and traditions in a shrinking world.” He put down the paperwork, showing his letter from the UN, along with his ID from the University of Tokyo, and a letter from the Japanese Prime Minister. ‘Yeah that’s right bitches lets start an International incident because you want to show the black guy who has the power.’

The Supervisor’s eyes went wide as he glanced over the documents, then shoved them back at Yasuke. “Well you should’ve just told us the truth.”

He ignored them, took his paperwork, the now stamped Passport, putting all of it in his satchel, and then put both hands together and bowed slightly. “Arigatōgozaimashita.” As he walked away, he could hear them bitching, wondering what he said to them. Ironically it was a simple thank you, but he’ll let them think that he just sent dishonour on them, their family, and their cow.

As he headed for the exit, he paused then laughed. “You look way too content.”


Dan stayed in his seat until every last bastard exited the plane, then had to wait until the one of the flight crew brought his wheelchair. One of the stewardesses barely gave him the time of day through the whole flight, only bothering to fill his drink on occasion. The other, made sure he was comfortable, and brought extra blankets. She had given him a smile, stating her ex boyfriend had lost a leg in a car accident, and remembered that he was always cold. He gave her a bright smile, and made a note to email the airline to get her a commendation. Simple things like that, made flying easier.

Twenty minutes later one of the deck crews brought him his chair, unfolded it and made sure to stay behind Dan as he shifted into the chair, the smaller version that was easy to maneuver in crowded areas. He gave the crewmen a nod, then the stewardess a wink, then rolled off the plane, almost crashing over the very large edge between the plane and access tunnel.

“Be careful sir.” The first stewardess called out to him.

He flipped her off, then made his way down the tunnel and out into the terminal. The airline had someone waiting for him with another wheelchair. “What, you thought I could walk down the gangway to get to the chair?” He huffed and rolled on by, not giving them a second look.

He had to admit that over the past fifty years, a lot had improved for people with disabilities. He remembered trying to get around Chicago, when he came home from ‘Nam. Nowadays there was a lot more accessibility, and he was thankful. Always appreciated those who took true efforts to help, not those who wanted to help the cripple because they felt guilty for some shit reason.

At least he had a fast pass through Passport Control.

He stopped at the terminal, reached up and slammed down his US Passport, paperwork from Homeland Security, paperwork from Japan, documents showing his job in Japan, his birth certificate from Chicago, Military ID, and Japanese ID. Next they’ll want a pint of blood, hell he already gave a few of those and his legs.

“Sir, can you put your eyes at the retinal machine.”

“No. I can’t.”

“Sir, its procedure.”

“I can’t stand. I have no fucking legs you wanna be mall cop!”

The guy startled then actually looked at who he was helping. “Oh geeze, I’m sorry it’s been a long day, and I’m only half way through a second shift.” He gave Dan a soft smile, then brought out a second set, that was portable. “Here try these.”

Dan gave him a shrug. “Hey I get the tired shit, man.” He let the gizmo do it’s thing then handed it back. “Second shift?”

“I got called in when someone didn’t show up. It’s not too bad, I get overtime, which is good, I’m going back to school, so the more money the better.” He took a few moments to look over the paperwork. “You work with people who have disabilities, that’s cool. How’s it living in Japan?”

“Same view as Chicago.”

The guy snorted, trying hard not to laugh. “I’m sure you hear it all the time, but thank you for your service. It’s not much, but well they send soldiers out and don’t do much for them afterward so at least I can say thanks.”

“What are you going back to school for?” He was never comfortable being thanked. Appreciated those who were sincere, uncomfortable but tolerated those who felt they had to, and despised the wanna be militia that think having a subscription to Stars and Stripes made them part of the ‘brotherhood’.

“Teaching.” He gave him a half smile. “Not quite what you would expect from a TSA Agent, but I love history, and after floundering around trying to be something I’m not, figured time to go and be who I am.”

“Hey.” Dan made sure the kid – though he looked like he was pushing thirty, as far as he was concerned they were all kids – was looking at him. “Don’t let anyone, tell you how to live your life. You thank me for my service, well kid – I lost my legs and some of my friends to make sure you can go to school and be a history teacher and if anyone bitches I’ll kick them in the ass!”

He laughed lightly, handing him back his paperwork. “Thanks for being patient with me, Lt. Taylor.”

“It’s Lt. Dan now.” He gave the kid a wink, stashing the paperwork into his satchel. “I mostly fly into Chicago, but come to New York on occasions. I look forward to the day you’re not here.”

“That has got to be one of the weirdest compliments, I’ve received!” He gave him a quick salute. “Have a good day, sir.”

Dan wheeled himself over to the waiting area, yelling at least two people who wouldn’t get out of his way. Then cursed out the third who walked right into him. “Pay attention asshole.”

“How am I supposed to see you sitting in the middle of the walkway.”

“Get your nose out of your phone, and look where you’re going.” Dan rolled his eyes as the guy flipped him off, then laughed when he tripped and slammed into the wall.

“You look way too content.”

Dan glanced up at his Mate, who looked tired. “I got the rare good TSA Agent, I see you got the asshole one.”

Yasuke just took a deep breath, looked heavenward, then crossed himself. “Shall we go find out what Hannibal wants, I’m actually surprised you’re still here.”

“You know those fiends are betting which ones of his gets arrested, so figured annoy them by both showing up.” Dan moved his chair, to start heading out to the small welcoming area.

“You totally placed a bet that we would both get out at the same time.”

“Well yeah, he woke me up at one in the morning, the ass owes me coffee and cash.”

Yasuke chuckled following his Mate into the waiting terminal. Now they just needed to figure out what to do about this gang.


  1. najean1

    Aha! I love Yasuke… A TSA agent should know international naming conventions. I also love Lt. Dan and how he made a bet that the two of them of them would arrive at the same time to the meeting with Paul and Hannibal. Great snippet! I hope this will be part of a longer story.
    —-Naj 😀 ❤❤

Leave a Reply to Kathie Guazzo Cancel reply

%d bloggers like this: