Jason knew about the story of Spring Hills Gulch. Everyone did. It was in the history books; with a picture of Valkyrie standing beside it in a leather jacket and boots, a telephone pole slung over her shoulder.

Over fifty years ago, a young Sarah Constance Larsen had been at home when the Pinkertons came for her father to 'talk' about the ongoing strike at the local mines. Eyewitness accounts varied, but Sarah's father had a broken arm, and the Pinkerton men were never seen or heard from again; though the neighbors reported that their truck was seen flying through the air and disappearing into the gulch.

The small town had become a veritable black hole into which strikebreakers vanished for the next few weeks; and when the feds came in to intervene, they found themselves brought to a screeching standstill by the young woman; who despite being only 19, was well over seven feet tall, and apparently had no limit whatsoever to either strength or durability.

When her father had turned up dead the next day, she'd become an 'Avenging Valkyrie'; destroying every piece of property and person associated with the name Pinkerton; and still to this day anti-union activists speak quietly and avoid public notice for fear of another assault by the Titan.

The feds had ultimately brokered a truce, of sorts; they wouldn't mess with her, she wouldn't mess with them; and despite finally acquiring a similarly gifted titan over a decade later in the form of Spike, they still never sent a federal agent across Spring Hills Gulch city limits.

To some, she was a hero. Despite her turn to crime, founding the 'Valkyries' 'Motorcycle Club', and running the Gulch like a petty dictator from her home by the cliffside, her strike against the Anti-Union criminals was still hailed in some parts. But to the rest... she was a thief, a mass-murderer, and a monster. A monster who, on very rare occaision, had seen fit to help the US government with something like an alien invasion or giant monster.

And the person whom Jason was slated to meet in the small, unassuming brick house ahead... which currently had six motorcycles of various description parked out front, and a single heavily overweight, balding man with a nasty sunburn sitting on the front porch, shotgun in hand. A real shotgun, classic, pump-action, not one of those new ones.

For a moment, he regretted taking the van. Driving up on a motorcycle would surely leave a better first impression. No helping it now. He parked beside the bikes, and slid out, stretching for a moment... before pulling on the same worn cowboy hat he'd walked into Top's office with.

This place was... stark. A ravine, the same one she'd supposedly started out by tossing those Pinkertons in, was a hundred meters or so behind the house; and this might very well be the house she'd grown up in.

As he approached the door, the biker outside gave him a nod.. and whistled. The front door slammed open... and Jason looked up... and up... at a woman who was not in the slightest bit pretty, but he would never have the audacity to say it to her face. Even thinking it while looking at this... monster of a woman seemed risky.

He'd charged head-on at a man that looked like a demon statue forged out of metal a few months ago, but this hard-nosed blonde woman in a leather jacket adorned with various norse insignia and the 'Valkyries' logo scared the piss out of him. Almost literally as she stomped forward. All of the thoughts in his head about how to hurt her led to absolutely nothing. He could peg her in the eye with one of those anti-armor grenades and she wouldn't blink. He was half tempted to sprint for the van; he was sure he could outrun her at least. But she could probably just throw the van before he started moving.

She stopped right in front of him; up close, she looked even bigger. Was she really only seven foot nine? It felt like a dozen feet from here... and stuck out her hand. "Titanslayer! Welcome to Valkyrie ranch. Come on in, I've got work for you."

He shook her hand; she squeezed with carefully calculated force; enough for him to feel it, but not enough to grind his bones into paste; and turned, walking back inside. She glanced at the man on the porch. "Davis. Go get Butch. Tell him to leave that toy sword of his." Before heading inside.

Four men were sitting around a table, playing poker as the two stepped in. None of them paid much attention to Valkyrie or Jason as she settled in on an expansive couch, and nodded at a recliner. "Make yourself comfortable. Drink?" She offered a bottle of... Jack.

For a moment, a flashback of the night before passed through his head, and he grimaced. "Ahh... no." If Valkyrie had the same idea as that Swiftblade lady, he'd be a corpse. "Sorry, drank a bit too much last night, had a rough morning."

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"Thats nice. Now drink. You'll need to be tougher than that for what I've got in mind for you." She pressed the bottle forward more insistently... and Jason reluctantly took it... and given the lack of glasses, took a swallow straight from the top.

"Excellent. Now. You're smart enough to know that just because you killed Lightning doesn't mean you can kill any Titan, right? That if you fuck with me, if I get even an inkling that you're out to cause trouble for me and mine, Zeus, Odin, the president of the United States, Jesus, and all the saints won't be able to stop me from turning you into a splatter on the pavement?"

This thought had already gone through his mind, though he knew Lightning or some other speedster could, at least, stay away from her as long as they wanted. Or, well. So long as they were alive.

"Yes, ma'am. I have no intention of messing with anything of you or yours, and if you hadn't passed the message for me to come, you would never even see me. Now that we've established that you're a badass and I either need to do what you say or run like the goddamned wind, what did you need?"

She leaned forward, slapping her hands on her knees with so much force a shockwave passed through the room. "Alright. I've got a son. Butch, twelve years old. Goes by Butcher, for the world's most dumbass code names. Little dumbass is already goddamn huge, and the doc tells me that by the time he's full grown, he'll be just as strong as me, but with even more mass to make use of it. I need somebody to take him out and about for a bit. Bring him on a few jobs, show him the country. Get a feel for things before he's an unstoppable juggernaut."

She leaned in even closer, merely inches away. "And if the little fucker can't keep himself under control when I'm not around, I need to know about it so I can put him down before nobody can."

Jason gave a slow blink. "..You heard someone killed a Titan... so you called him in to babysit your twelve-year-old?"

The house suddenly shook; as a burly figure entered the room. A massive, hairless body, almost as wide as he was tall, and at least a few inches taller than Jason; looking like a nightmare version of a Linebacker that could push back an entire NFL team.. stomped in, wearing a 'Sailor Moon' T-shirt and cargo pants.

"Oh, hey, mom. Who the hell is this?"

Jason looked him over. Bullet-resistant skin. The AP grenades would do bad damage to him... broken bones, broken organs. The eyes.. definitely not bulletproof. On the other hand, he was much tougher than any ordinary human... probably Jason included. And, well. He was twelve years old and over six feet tall.

Valkyrie pulled to her feet. "This... is that Titanslayer you've been going on and on about... though his code-name is actually Eyeball. He used to wear a helmet painted like one. He's been considering putting a crew together for some work. I figured I'd put in a good word for you."

The boy... it felt strange calling that enormous slab of meat 'Boy'.. looked at Jason for a moment. His guns, his hat. Then, at Valkyrie; and ran towards her, slamming into her with enough force that the air pressure blew all the cards off the table, sending the four men scrambling with angry muttering to find everything and get it back in order.

"You're the best, Mom! I'm gonna be the best villain ever!"

She absently patted him on the back. "Of course. Now go get packed up. I think you're gonna be on the road for a few days."

Jason grimaced. What the hell sort of job could he pull that would need a walking slab of meat like that? "Sure. Me and your mom need to hash a few things out. Make sure we don't mess with any of her plans... or those of my friend Nicky."

The boy turned, sprinting out of the room like a rocket; tearing a fist-sized chunk out of one doorway as he ran. Jason stepped closer to Valkyrie, speaking quietly. "So he saw me on TV, got obsessed, and you figured hey... he'll respect this guy?"

"Pretty much."

"... I have no jobs planned. I was gonna do whatever I needed to keep Nicky happy, then head north to retire."

"Thats fine. Teach him to think. Plan. And get a few more people in. I'll bankroll the first job, even. The fed pays me about a million dollars per kilo of neutronium I give them, so I've got plenty for whatever you need."

Jason looked at his feet, thinking it through. Being able to see further than three seconds would seriously come in handy right now. Should he just run the hell out? Maybe settle in Australia; no way in hell Valkyrie could find him there. Egh. No. Maybe she'd threaten to destroy his hometown if he didn't show up or something.

First things first. He needed to find a target. Something worth the effort of stealing. Then he could put a team together... and figure out something not -too- dangerous for Butch to do. And hopefully not start reliving his army days and putting himself in the hospital.

"Alright. Mind if I hang out here in town for a couple days and make some calls? I'm gonna need to get Butch some armor. He's bullet... resistant... but he needs something to protect him if things get serious."

Valkyrie tilted her head for a moment. "You can tell that just by looking at him, huh. What exactly is your power, mister Eyeball?"

"Are you gonna kill me if I don't tell you?"

"Nah, my son would be pissed. And honestly, I owe you one; I've hated that Lightning fucker for years. I might pop off a finger or two though."

"I guess I'll have to risk it, then. Probably best to keep it under wraps as long as possible... and if I were the feds, I'd have your phone tapped and be listening to everything we say in here."

"Hmm. I'll allow it. For now. Don't keep him -too- safe. If he never gets hurt, he'll grow up to be an insufferable little prick."

Jason nodded at her, stepping out the door. Okay then. Yeah, retirement is out the window for a while. Jesus Christ, would she want him to keep the kid around for years? And if he's past six feet at twelve, whats he gonna look like at twenty?

Well. Time to put a team together. Just needed to figure out who to call first.