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The Adventures of "Fish Guy" (Superhero fiction)


Hermit

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I see one problem with The Further Adventures of Pogo. One of the supporting characters (I think he talks to fish?) has a steady girlfriend. That kind of moves a character in the direction of having a finished arc. Have you considered writing in a Satan-like character who causes the relationship to have never existed? Just a thought. 

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  • 2 weeks later...

 

(Good deeds of a past book come in the form of an unexpected sky blue savior!)

 

I had grabbed the items I would need on the way, of course. A flare gun, a knife, and a note.  Of course, the knife was the copy we made of Slice's. The note was a long term plan with a fallback of sort with a big assumption I was going to live. The flare gun? I was looking forward to that one.

 

I chose a location near water but not where Mister Brute would think about, at least I hoped. Given our past encounter he might indeed be very aware of the lines under the city's surface, but the point was I had a chance to break ground, literally, and dive under that way if I had to. It also would provide Pinprick another option for escape.

"You ready yet, Eel?" He called up from his position on the ledge.

 

"Ready as I'll ever be," I nodded and embedded the knife into the note using it like a tack on a bulletin board.

 

The note read: Mister Brute, I have what you want. Meet me at dawn tomorrow at the same location we met last time, and challenge me man to man, and you'll get it. We have all the independent heroes. So, you might as well give up on that. It's the only CURE for our current standoff. Any other option, anything else, and you could really FRACTURE your chances for retrieving it.

 

Then I took the gun, and fired it straight up into the air, the trailing spiraled up, up, up and then bloomed into the shape of, some kind of generic tuna. I blinked and probably said something rather impolite.

 

"Fish signal," Pinprick called out from his spot, "Yeah, that'll send em running."

 

"It's supposed to look like a frickin' eel," I fumed, "I was very specific about that."

 

Pinrpick's chortle didn't sound very supportive, "Yeah, that's your biggest problem."

 

I grumbled, "Fine, let's get ready, you hide, they be here soon." And the worse thing is, the plan counted on it.

 

Hiding for a six-inch-tall man isn't hard.

 

Good news? Apocalyptic showed up. Bad news? Apocalyptic showed up.

 

To my amusement, at least two of them didn't look good. Slice had a fresh costume, but her hair was still half burned, and I suspected her third degrees were still at least first degree. I shouldn't laugh, burns are some of the ugliest wounds you can get, but she was obviously a quick healer, and frankly, it was nice to see Firebug hit a worthy target for once. Firebug herself? Well, she flew so maybe it didn't matter as much, but I thought I saw some sort of support for that ankle I had broken earlier.

 

Me? I was standing pretty fresh so, you know, I was going to die, but at least I could say they had good reason to hate me now.

 

Mister Brute took lead before them, and spoke, "Why do I have a hard time trusting this? You're confident, and you're angry with us, but you're not a fool. Yet you send up a signal, and don't seem surprised it's us."

 

"Thought I'd issue an invitation," I Jerked a thumb at the knife and note, "Wanted to be sure you found it."

 

Mister Brute glanced at Slice and nodded. There was a rush past me, and then a blur past the other way. I held very still hoping she didn’t' try to stab me in the throat on her way by.

 

The note was already in Mister Brute's hands. He wore a mask, but I liked to imagine that least part of what it said caught him off guard and maybe even made him nervous.

That's right, Jerk, I know it's a cure and not a weapon.

 

Then he began to tear it in half, then quarters.

 

"Ridiculous," He snorted, "Why on Earth would I let you choose the time or place? Even if you really do have every independent superhero as you claim, I can just move to policemen. Or reporters, or whoever is unlucky enough to be handy. You fancy yourself a superhero. You and your team will do anything and everything to protect said innocents. It allows me the advantage of time, location, heck, maybe even players. You have nothing on me."

 

"Except the knowledge of the very special someone in your life who so badly needs a Fumian cure for Cancer," I glanced at his team, "How do you guys feel about that? I mean, I hope he's paying you something, because you all seem relatively healthy. Well, maybe not you, Firebug. How's the ankle?"

 

"You son of a –" Blue flames roared around her but Brute stilled her with a gesture.

 

He was scrutinizing me, trying to figure out how much I really knew.

 

I put on my best shuck and jive face and answered the unspoken question, "You think I can't learn things? The prize you seek told a lot. And we have some very good detectives on our team."

 

In truth, the detective was Tornado, and while he was indeed good and looking into it, like the rest of us, he had his hands full, so we had no idea who Mister Brute was trying to save. I just knew whoever it was had to be precious in a personal way to a man who didn't otherwise value human life.

 

But I sure wasn't going to let my ignorance show. I gave my best smug look.

 

"So, that one on one looking better now?" I said.

 

"No," he answered, "I don't know how you found out, I'm not even sure if you know as much as you claim, but I do know this whole encounter feels funny. You're chatting me up? Why?"

 

Before I could answer, the Fumians did. A hologram appeared in front of him, a Fumian furiously ranting, his scaled face bulging with rage "We had a bargain! You are supposed to keep the superheroes off of us, and yet somehow they're tracking us down, we've lost over five reported merchants already, if they get the other ten you will find no help from your offspring from us, Mister Brute! He will die of his cancer. Is that what you wish? Now, I insist you-"

 

Whatever the hologram was going onto say was interrupted, by me, as I charged through the hologram and body checked Mister Brute as hard as I could. I should have gone after Dice, but the others would follow Brute's lead, and I needed his attention on me.

 

If it weren't for the distraction of the message, I wouldn't have been able to hit him flatfooted. But as it turned out, I drove him into his team mate Dice, who he clipped, before skidding another twenty feet and smashing into the corner of a building.

 

The office was closed at this hour, another reason this area worked for me.

 

Mister Brute rolled up quick like a professional athlete getting off the mat. Dice seemed startled and was slower. I got the feeling the luck bender wasn't used to getting dinged in these scuffles.

 

I wanted Mister Brute to lose his temper, instead he called out, "Candle-wall Cuisinart,  Miss S."

 

"On it," Dice's eyes glowed.

 

"Damn it," Firebug hissed as if she hated what was just said. Flames erupted from her as she rose up. I readied to dodge the fireball only to find out the flames were not targeting me, not directly anyway. A wall of red and yellow burst in a ring around me. I was surrounded in a circle of flame.

 

I couldn't see beyond that.

 

Then Slice was there, passing through the flames like a finger through candlelight. Her knives cut into my flesh, the replacement not as deeply. Later I would worry if she noticed the difference, right now I was just grateful I only had one gash in me rather than two deep ones.

 

I readied to leap over and out of the ring of fire, only to slip! I freaking slipped and stumbled catching a part of my leg in the fire.  Knives plunged into my back, direct thrusts this time, as I was a sitting duck for it. Bad luck, a flaming prison, and super speed cuts were all combining to trap me. I swung wildly and was rewarded with another cut, this one along my arm.

 

Somewhere through the pain, my brain kicked in and reminded me I had a deux ex mystica in my pocket. I reached for it, "Istvha Mirro" I called out.

And suddenly there were others of me scrambling around. Some in the flame, some in the circle, and some, I presumed from the comments of the villains, out of the circle.  The duplicates worked well. I mean, the ones that were in the flame actually looked in pain, the ones with me struck various heroic swinging poses. I certainly couldn't tell the difference. They even had matching wounds.

 

"Damn it, Dice, wake up!" I heard Mister Brute's frustrated yell.  With a grin I realized that outside of my vision, Pinprick must have gone to work. His arrows, he had told me before, did a lot more than shrink folks. Enchanted, if he was telling me the truth, with the powers of Faerie, they could also put folks into deep sleep, or even act as love potions (Though he admitted to almost never using that option).

 

Suddenly I wasn't having as much trouble getting up. I guess with Dice asleep, my bad luck had, for the moment, ended.

 

Slice spent several attacks on my duplicates inflicting wounds that meant nothing to me upon them. This bought me plenty of time to leap out successfully at last, and land down outside of the flames. Unfortunately, Firebug wasn't in reach, and I didn't have Arctic Fox's protection anyway.

 

She was currently shooting a rush of blue flame through one of the Eel copies which blackened and splintered the ground beneath it.

 

Beneath it? That reminded me of the second part of my plan. I was lucking out so far. Was it too soon to engage in retreat? Yes, yes it was. And I wasn't going to leave without Pinrpick anyway. I had left Slime behind earlier. I wasn't going to do that to another hero ever again.

 

The punch from Mister Brute sent me up against a wall twenty feet away hard enough to leave a divot. Mister Brute was dealing with me himself.

 

"Slice, go rescue the Fumians, I can pluck this particular thorn in our collective side with my own two hands," He gave me a hard jab to the face, "Have you been practicing, boy?"

My response was a right hook close to his ear and the comment of, "You tell me."

 

The way it staggered him was gratifying. He swung back, but I sidestepped near an illusion of me, and he hit the wrong one.

 

I had an advantage? Son of a gun, I had an advantage.

 

Stepping in and out of the illusion closest to me that was mimicking my attacks anyway, I hammered a series of hooks, jabs and lunges. He fired back, but half of his blows were falling on the wrong target. He grabbed what he thought was my arm to put it in a lock only to find he had grabbed a true phantom limb. I rewarded him with a shot to his ribs.

I might be able to beat him.

 

"Firebug! Get Friendly!" He bellowed.

 

That couldn't be good, I realized.

 

Firebug had been trying to figure out which me was real with individual shots, even as she turned at the command, and let loose a fireball with Mister Brute himself as ground zero for the explosion. The flames probably hurt him, but it was clear he could take fire a lot better than I could and I was right next to him.

 

I hate fire.

 

And fire hates me.

 

I felt my skin boil, while Mister Brute's biggest problem was that fancy hat of his was smoking and a comparatively mild set of burns.

Worse, Mister Brute is smart. I saw a smile part his lips as his eyes danced even in the brightness of the flames and he pulled a round house on me that loosened my teeth and made me see stars.

 

"What do you know, the flames go mostly through the illusions, but not you, nice tell," He grabbed me by the throat and slammed down to the ground beginning to snuff the life out of me. I punched once, twice, and feared my windpipe might give out.

 

I wondered where Pinprick was, only to see he was dealing with Slice. Slice had tried to leave only to find herself with a small man on her shoulder. How he got there I don't know, but I did realize he was shooting her in the head, little arrows had nailed her like an acupuncturist gone mad. She was still full sized, which meant either somehow, she was immune to that effect or he didn't find it tactically sound to shrink her, so he couldn't use the difference to avoid her weapons.

 

Still, those blades, if they hit, might cut him open like a great sword on a munchkin.  And her precision wasn't slowed down much despite her injuries.

 

Case in point, she whirled in a fast spin and Pinprick found himself hanging on for dear life. And I? I was about to lose the last of my oxygen.

 

I hit, I kicked, and the ground shook, but I couldn't break his grip. He ignored the duplicates, and then another wave of fire hit us both. Things were turning gray.

I was blacking out.

 

"Firebug, help Slice shake that nuisance and go already! We lose the Fumians and we lose everything," Mister Brute snarled and began to beat me against the ground over and over. I think I felt blood behind my head, and I was pretty sure it was mine, "Where is the cure?"

 

Pinprick cried out in pain and out of the corner of my eye I saw him get cut along his right side and flung off. Gasping, he fired an arrow at Mister Brute, trying to save me I suppose, though for a moment I had a nightmarish mental image of the man shrinking but still keeping hands around my throat and severing my head in a darkly comical fashion.

 

Instead, nothing happened.

 

"Whatever you're trying, imp," Mister Brute grit his teeth, "You'll find it doesn't work on me."

 

That's when I shattered the asphalt and concrete beneath me. Bits of stone and rubble fell into the water below, the splashing sound was music to my ears and Mister Brute and I started to tumble. Then the bastard caught himself with a free hand, the other still around my neck.

 

"Clever, Eel, but I'm not done with you yet," Mister Brute flung me away from the edge. Another three arrows bounced off him, and he snorted, "Pinprick, isn't it? Haven't we established you're having trouble affecting me?"

 

I landed in heap a good thirty feet away landing in what had been a bus stop, grateful to take in air even if every breath hurt like the devil. Pinprick didn't look much better than I did. He was lucky that Firebug and Slice were already heading off (finally) to go aid the Fumians.

 

Pinprick nodded, "You're absolutely right," And he shot another arrow in a high arc which shot past Mister Brute and landed instead between his legs at the bricks of the ledge.

Bricks that shifted and shrunk to the size of children's toys.

 

"Works pretty good on the stuff you're standing on though," Pinprick called out, "Eel! Bench him!"

 

I grabbed a chunk of the bench I'd just broken through, and flung it at the tottering Mister Brute. It broke against him and shattered, but it was also enough force to send him tumbling down into the waters below.

 

I meant those waters for my escape, but they might serve pretty nicely as his delay, "Brilliant, Pinprick. Can we get the hell out of here now?"

 

"Kind of the plan," He shot another arrow to a flag pole and swung near me, "I'm being honest here, Eel. I'm losing blood with every step. How are you?"

 

I took him in my hands, carrying him like a baby, not that I would ever describe it that way where he could hear me, and began to run. I tried to hop once, to get more distance, and then groaned in pain, "Okay, running it is."

 

"You mean limping," Pinprick muttered, "Turn the corner, get out of visual first, then distance."

 

I did as he said, and he was right, I was moving like a wounded wildebeest, "I outsmarted myself, was going to use the underground water so we're not as close to the beach as I'd like."

 

"We're screwed then, yay," Pinprick said calling in, "Mabel, Firebug and Slice are on their way. nearest vehicle?"

 

"All vehicles are getting wounded to safety, do you need one? I can redirect."

 

Pinprick and I exchanged a look at each other, and both answered, "We're good."

 

"Okay, if that changes, let us know," Mabel said, "And others are warned about the incoming ladies."

 

Once that was over, I stumbled onto a street, one with far too many people on it. When there's a butcher with the ability to break tanks with his bare hands, five is too many. 

There was a hand on my shoulder, I jerked up and turned to see… a mailman.

 

"Hey, you don't look so good," The skyblue uniformed postal worker said, "Your friend doesn't either."

 

"Supervillain on our tails, cold blooded killer type, he's going to have more help shortly and I hate to sound like a wimp, but I can't take him alone. Any minute now he could come through the area and kill my friend or I. Y'all need to get out of here," I slurred.

 

He opened up the back of his vehicle, "Get inside, both of you."

 

"What?" I blinked in confusion, 'Look, my name is Eel, and I'm not sure you understand."

 

"I know exactly who you are," And he pushed me through into the back to curl into a fetal position on a top of packages and bags yet to be delivered and closed the hatch behind me, "You're Eel, the Fish Guy. You're the man who held up a post office to save the stamp pounding lives of my brothers and sisters in the building.  You held it when they got out. Then, you saved our Christmas bonuses and maybe even a job or three by keeping that building aloft long enough for them to salvage it. You didn't let the terrorists win. When you did that?  Whether you realize it or not, you became one of us. "

 

He didn't look back as he got into the driver's seat, not even a glance in the rearview mirror, which is good, because I'm sure the expression I wore was one of utter confusion bordering on W-T-H-edness.

 

"You are my brother in blue, and today, you and your wounded team mate are also my packages. I will deliver you, and neither rain, nor sleet, nor jerkass villain will stay me from this sacred duty." He began to drive off, not gunning it, but there was such a profound look of dignity on his round face that I swore that if he were part of a parade, he'd be the guy holding the colors and that flag would never ever touch the ground.

 

"Thanks," Was all I could think to say to the man who was making this a truly surreal moment, "Mister…?" I turned the ignorance into a question.

 

"Postman Bert Newell, Letter Carrier Veteran for seven years running now," The man said, "You can call me Bert. Like I said, you're one of us," He drove on, "that guy you were talking about, he look like a cross between a 1930's mafia boss, the phantom of the opera, and a steroid junkie?"

 

"That's him," I said, "He's in view of your mirror I take it?"

 

"Yup, and he's ticked, but no one is getting hurt. It will probably never occur to him that you might be in here," He turned the corner, "We postal workers are easy to overlook. We are as constant as the sun in our movement, and just as often ignored, and yet still we bring what we can of our light to the world." He drew forth his CB like device, "This is Postman Bert Newell, I am going to be behind on deliveries today, please pivot someone else instead of me as I will be taking aforementioned greater time to complete the usual appointed route."

 

"You are delayed?" Said a woman's voice, sounding like she had just heard the Pope declare he was skipping Mass this morning, "Are you feeling well, Bert?"

"I'm fine," Bert said with resolve, "Honorary Postman Eel and one of his team mates is in my vehicle and injured. I'm helping them."

"Bert, I'd ask you if you were joking but I know you don't have a sense of humor," The woman replied, "Permission for delay granted, and others will pivot if necessary. Tell Eel, well, hell, tell him we've got his back."

 

"Roger that, Post Officer Janice," He said, and put the device down, "We've got you covered, Eel. Where to?"

 

I needed water to heal more quickly, but I'd still regenerate albeit slower. Pinprick was worse off than I was. I looked at Bert, took a breath and told him to drop me off about a block away from the base. I was tempted to tell him to take me straight to the base and give its location and trust him, but it wasn't just my secret. And he was already taking a tremendous risk, "And drop us off behind a building or something so no one will see us if you can?"

 

"You've got it, honorary postman Eel," He picked an empty area for an out of business carwash, allowing us a chance to slip out as he opened the hatch then stepped aside, "Consider yourself delivered."

 

And he saluted me.

 

Carefully shifting Pinprick to my left arm, I saluted back, "You serve your pony express ancestors proud, sir." I tried to say it with a straight face, because even if I was still baffled, I was grateful, and incredibly aware that his smuggling Pinprick and myself out had just saved our lives.

 

He smiled at that, and puffed up a little, "Good luck from here on, I have to return to my duties."

 

"Are all post officers as tough as you?" I asked him as he got behind the wheel and ready to pull off.

 

He looked at me, "We're in a town with super-battles. The wimps wash out, the cream rises, and the men get separated from the boys. Or the women from the girls in the case of my sisters in the cause."

 

"Of course," I nodded slowly, "I won't detain you any further from your appointed rounds."

 

And he drove off.

 

And I lurched on at the fasted shamble I could manage to get my friend to safety.

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Woot!  Double woot!

 

The save there toward the end had the same good feel as the firemen taking out Livewire to save Supergirl.  And it's nice that what comes around, goes around. 

 

Some of the dialogue at the end was a bit hokey, but in a good way IMO. 

 

As to Pinprick and Mister Brute, high Power Defense is a b***h, ain't it?

 

I was tempted to post a "what's up" yesterday in this thread, but decided not to since Hermit said it was being an ugly month.  Turns out I didn't have to.

 

And I'm ashamed to say that I just made the mental connection of "Slice and Dice".  Are they siblings?  And with Firebug's help, can they make Julienne fries?

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6 minutes ago, BoloOfEarth said:

Woot!  Double woot!

 

The save there toward the end had the same good feel as the firemen taking out Livewire to save Supergirl.  And it's nice that what comes around, goes around. 

 

Some of the dialogue at the end was a bit hokey, but in a good way IMO. 

 

As to Pinprick and Mister Brute, high Power Defense is a b***h, ain't it?

 

I was tempted to post a "what's up" yesterday in this thread, but decided not to since Hermit said it was being an ugly month.  Turns out I didn't have to.

 

And I'm ashamed to say that I just made the mental connection of "Slice and Dice".  Are they siblings?  And with Firebug's help, can they make Julienne fries?

 

Oh, Postman Bert Newell is an over the top indulgence on my part, I admit it. :) He's cheesy, but also fundamentally decent. Also, let's face it, postmen in a world full of super power battles probably do deserve our respect. *Salutes Willie Lumpkin*

 

Yeah, I don't want Pinprick to have a 'push button defeat villain' win button so Mister Brute isn't so easy to get rid of. Though Pinprick, being the experienced hero he is, adapts on the fly pretty well.

 

And yes, Slice and Dice are siblings. :)

 

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So who does Apocalypse usually fight and why haven't they shown up yet?

 

I'm assuming that there is a hero or at least a team in the Fishverse that is more in line with their power level. Otherwise they would have taken over the world by now. You've introduced a mega tough villain team, somebody has to be keeping them in check.

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  • 2 weeks later...

(Sometime after this, I hit my 50,000 but also hit a wall so it maybe slower still after this, sorry)

 

"Sweet Asimov's spectacles," Mabel said, "Tiger why didn't you tell me you and studmuffin were in that bad a shape?" A gurney rolled up to us almost as soon as I entered the mall.

 

I rolled onto it, and Pinprick was on top of me, out cold, as the gurney rolled us quickly to the medbay I had to ask, "Wait, Sweet Asimov's spectacles?"

 

"I'm trying out new exclamations akin to when biological lifeforms call on the deity of their own creation tales, just to see if it helps relieve stress. I've been tense of late because you guys keep getting chopped up and not taking care of yourselves," A slight emphasis on some of the words implied this was highly inconsiderate of us.

 

Now in the medbay, waldos gently grabbed up Pinprick with a support and begin tending to his wounds. Me? I was dumped unceremoniously into a tank full of water.

 

It felt like heaven, "I'm not sure I should encourage you to take even your symbolic deity's name in vain, but then I don't know if I have a right to gripe. I can slip when I'm upset. Also, bit clunky, the Asimov's spectacles thing."

 

"I'll work on it, you heal up," She said, "Maybe rest."

 

"Nuh-Uh," I said in my best impression of an unruly seven-year-old, "First, I want to know how the others are doing. Did they get all the Fumians? Anyone else on the team badly hurt? I can soak elsewhere if you'll need the medbay space. Firebug and Slice, are they engaging my team mates already or did we warn them in time? Is the spying device built into that replica knife working at all?"

 

"Anything else while you test my multitasking capabilities?" Mabel said as she used small lasers to cut and stitch our smallest team mate up.

"Yeah, could you check on a postal worker named Bert Newell? See if he's back on duty and safe?" The thought occurred to me just then and there I was embarrassed to say. I had assumed he'd be fine, but better to be sure.

 

"No indication of trouble for him," She said answering the last request first, "We have GPS and audio, on the replica, but I'm using intermittently. Currently there's not much data coming in of use. It looks like Lady Obsidian has sent both Firebug and Slice into retreat, and yes, several Fumians are captured and very, very unhappy with the failure of the muscle they hired. Other members of the team have experienced some injuries-"

 

"Which ones?" I sat upright ready to get out of the tub.

 

"I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you over the sound of your sploshing around trying to get out of the medbay while I'm making sure you get healed, care to lay down and try again?" Her normally sultry tones weren't nearly as velvety right now.

Grumbling I leaned back, "Who was hurt," then I added, "Please?"

 

"Artic Fox is hurt, nothing lethal," She went on, "And Tornado got hit pretty bad, but he heals fairly quickly as well."

"Okay," I said, feeling a bit guilty that my first thought was that I was so glad it wasn't Ariana, "So plenty of room in here for two more I guess."

 

"You guess correctly," Mabel said, "Besides, it will take them take them time to lock all the Fumians up in our holding cells of dubious legality."

 

Yeah, you can't just throw folks into a cell and detain them, even if they're wearing masks and you stopped them mid crime. The ACLU, the Police, and anyone else interested in due process frown on that. Hence the often applied 'of dubious legality' addendum we slapped on the rooms we had for short term holding.

 

It would not be the first time we broke those rules I suspected, but it made many of us, including Lady Obsidian, twitchy when we did. I know it bothered me a bit.

 

Not that I'm that cozy with those committing crimes, but mistakes and misidentifications happen, and there's stopping crime and then there's issuing punishments out after, and imprisonment is a punishment. So, yes, big ethical quandaries there.

 

And yet, these were aliens, literal not even born on this planet and didn't bring a passport aliens. The US government might want them, but it wouldn't be likely for the purpose of legal process. They would want them for the same reason we did. They would want the Fumians' secrets.

 

Arctic Fox came like a rolling thundercloud. Her expression was one of righteous indignation. The injury along her side was nasty, odd ring like bruises as if she'd been struck by a blunt pole several times. I could tell that when she plopped down and lifted her costume enough to reveal it without betraying modesty. But that wasn't what had her so angry. A section of her hair, that brown with white streaks she so carefully cultivated, was missing a chunk about the size of a small fist. There was no getting around that. There was a hole in her hair and it looked like more of it might fall off any second.

 

"Ah, I couldn't help notice-" I gestured a bit nervously with a finger towards the left side of her hair.

 

"You snicker at my hair, we will go several rounds, and I don't care if are resistant to cold, I will find ways to make it hurt," She said testily.

"I believe you," I assured her to placate, "Anything I can say to make it ah-"

 

"Probably not," Arctic Fox replied, "Sorry, there is no good spin you can put on this."

 

"Noted," I said. Ah well, I tried to be supportive team mate guy.

 

"I'm fine, Ariana, fine stop coddling me," the words were assuring, but the voice was a painful rasp. Tornado came in battered and blooded on the back of gurney.

 

"You're bleeding internally, that is not what I call fine," Ariana said as she pushed said gurney in and moved her Uncle.

 

Odd dynamic between the two of them; Technically, Valentino was her Uncle, but due to some generational pauses and dynamics, he was less than a decade older than his niece, and so the relationship was often more like big brother and little sister or close cousins than anything else.

 

"I was bleeding internally, by now it's probably sealed," He corrected, "I heal too. Not as fast as your boyfriend, but I'm good."

"I will decide what is good and who needs what medical attention," Mabel said, "Really hot and spicy, you're going to take that shirt off one way or another and we're going to make sure you heal back right. We'll need you all soon enough. I've got him, Ariana, don't you worry." Waldos went to work, some with needles on the end.

 

"Oh I'm gonna hate this," He said right before he got injected in the neck, "I was riii-" And then he was out like a light.

I started to get up from my tub, "Okay, two of them in, I need to get up. Really, I'm healing fine and I want to know what's going on in detail and-" And there she was again, Ariana. She was exploring my wounds with her deft tan fingers, exploring me in away that was almost intimate even if it wasn't meant romantically.

 

"Shush," She said.

"Hey," I noticed some of her bruises, "You're hurt too."

 

"Scrapes, light bruises," She told me, "Mabel can confirm. Just, please, take care of yourself for once. Okay? Can you do that, just for once? " Her chocolate eyes got very large, "We'll have to go into the fray again, soon. I know that. But for now? You won't help stomping around. You won't help trying to keep constantly on top of the news. So please, Caleb. Just close your eyes and let me imagine you safe and fine and -" A pause and a deep breath, "And okay. Okay?"

 

"Okay," I agreed, closing my eyes. I'm stubborn, not stupid. If a woman I cared for deeply was asking me to keep my yap shut and soak for just a half hour more, I could and would do that.

 

She said something in Spanish, it was a mumble but I think it was "Thank God."

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1 hour ago, BoloOfEarth said:

Very nice, Hermit!

 

I was just thinking earlier today that it would be nice to have another installment of Fish Guy... and here it is!

 

So, now I'm thinking it would be nice to be holding a winning lottery ticket while Danica McKellar gave me a massage...

 

 

And here you are getting a massage from a steam roller while holding a parking ticket.

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  • 2 weeks later...
  • 3 weeks later...
  • 3 weeks later...

(RL has finally hit a , well, I wont' call it a 'good place' but somethings are settled)

 

 

Weirdly, I did not count down the clock. In fact, for a moment, I almost nodded off. Maybe the weird hours and exertion were winding down even my stamina.

 

"Eel," Mabel sounded almost reluctant to wake me, "Eel, I've got news. The listening device has collected some very interesting things. I've gathered what I considered most relevant, cleared out excess noise, and got it ready to present. If you want the original, it's still available. I fully admit to being able to miss things too."

 

"Hit me with it," I said, sure she would patch it through to the others if she hadn't already. More likely they were still scaring the hell out of the Fumians. I still wasn't sure how I felt about that.

 

Voices came over the speaker:

 

"He knows about Billy?'

"He claims to know about Billy," Mister Brute clarified, "But it sure seems likely. Exactly how he discovered it is a mystery to me. Then again, with Lady Obsidian on his side, it isn't as if he wouldn't have an excellent scientist to help determine the nature of the temporary formula."

"Fat lot that's going to do us," Dice said, "the payment is shot, our money, your son's cure, since the Fumians got rounded up. When I catch that little bastard."

"I cut him for you," Slice mollified her brother, "He's lucky his intestines stayed in."

"I want Fish Guy" Firebug fumed, "I want him burned to a crisp! And that Fox b*tch too!"

"Our goal, is the cure. Without the Fumians, we do not have a cure. Without the cure, we cannot help Billy while he rots in the Englehart cancer ward. Fish Guy's death is not the goal, it is, at best, a perk, at least until we get that cure back. And to get the cure back, that means getting the Fumians back."

"Are you going to see Billy again? When what we need to do is force the New Samaritans to release the Fumians?" Slice said coldly.

"No. I won't see Billy again until I have the cure. Fish Guy agreed to meet with me, man to man. No way am I trusting him to play this straight. Superhero code of honor or not, you do not let your foe determine the location and time of a battle," He said flatly, "We need a specific target in this city to hold hostage. Not just random fires and deaths."

"Damn it," Firebug's voice again, "Can I set a building on fire anyway?"

"No, we nearly lost you and Slice to Lady Obsidian earlier. And let's be practical, even with the injuries we've inflicted on them, the New Samaritans are turning out to be dangerously well matched against us. We have injuries of our own. I don't have the patience for a war of attrition, and we might just lose a direct fight. We trade them, our hostages for the Fumians and their tech. As for who our hostages will be? I need time to think on that."

 

"That's all I have right so far, Tiger," Mabel said, "But I think I hit the high notes. And before you ask, I'm already checking records of the cancer ward at Englehart for anyone named Billy, Billy, or William. I think it's safe to assume we're looking for someone young."

 

"Mabel, if I weren't dating, I'd really push for Doctor Vernon to help build you that robotic body just so I could lay a kiss on you now," I told her.

 

"Aww, you tease," She chimed, "And to answer other questions, Valentino is raring to go. Pinprick is on the mend but may not be in the best condition to fight. Not sure that will stop him. Arctic Fox has a trim to salvage her vanity with a new hairstyle, and I suggest you act like it looks fantastic."

 

"Good advice," I nodded and rose from the water. My own wounds were completely healed. I was refreshed and ready to go, "I'm going to seek out Lady Obsidian and see how that end of things are going. I don't suppose there's any chance they just had the real cancer cure in their pockets."

 

Not waiting for an answer, I opened the door to the bio room, noticing Doctor Bench staring in shock at the microscope, and a group of lab rats bouncing about energetically.  Lady Obsidian was in her armor, save for the helmet, which she had taken off. She was sitting in a chair looking stunned, an expression of agog I had never imagined on her.

"Something wrong? Are the Fumians not talking?" I asked.

 

"They had the cure for cancer," She turned to me, her eyes were wide with, I swear, it looked like she might break into tears of joy, "They really did have it right on them. And, now it looks like we've got it too."

 

"I think I need to sit down," I said.

 

"Join the club," She patted a seat next to her.

 

"It's amazing. The rats are completely cured," Dr. Bench, "not a trace of leukemia in any of the samples."

 

"There's got to be side effects, what about the monkey paw effect?" I remember what they had said.

 

"Why do you think I'm not out at the local hospitals right now acting like Oprah on a bender?" Doctor Vernon said to me in that 'only half joking' way people get. Then she mimed, "You get a cure for cancer, you get a cure for cancer! Everyone gets a cure for cancer."

 

I couldn't help it, I laughed, "Still in testing stages and more then," I nodded. That would be the ethical thing, though when I thought of folks who were on a biological death row, it was hard not to bend ethics juuuuust a bit more. Another thought, "And the Fumians? How did you get them to, ahm, tell you all this?"

 

"I told them we would set up a transmitter that sent signals into space towards areas they hadn't had a chance to expand into yet, and let everyone in those systems know what scam artists they are. And I'd use their own Subspace radio transmitters to do it. Of course, I'm not sure how the damn thing works, and it might take me awhile, but after seeing the commercials we were playing, they decided not to risk it," she said curtly "I also promised them if they helped, we would take only the cancer cure. And not propel our world three centuries ahead. I wouldn't do that anyway, but they don't know that."

 

"Ha," I smiled again, "Is it just me, are we about to change the world?"

 

"Within two years maybe less? Yes," Doctor Bench said excitedly, "Within five? I think we can wipe it out of North America. Ten?  The world."

 

I couldn't blame the man for being excited. For all the danger we were still in with Apocalyptic, the truth was that if Doctor Bench survived and had the samples to study, eventually he'd find a way to replicate the cure.

 

"Now," Dr. Vernon said, "Now we can focus on Apocalyptic. And yes, Mabel has filled me in. We need to figure out who their prime targets are going to be for hostage taking. I suppose we should warn the mayor and some other city councilmembers."

 

"I'm not so sure the target will be someone politically important, or even sympathetic," I said, "He knows we value life of any sort. Even those others don't consider. So, it's possible he'll try it. I mean, yes, hospitals and orphanages are possible, but it's also likely he'll target prisons or the homeless population. Heck anyone. I really don't know how we're going to narrow this down unless more comes in on the bug we've built into the knife."

 

"Well, there is a chance of that happening," She said, "In the meantime," She looked up, "Mabel, keep your standard camera rotation on the city in full view. Firebug, at least, should stand out like a sore thumb."

 

"Sure, I'm on it, boss," Mabel's artificial but purring tones assured her, "I- we're getting a message."

"From whom? Mister Brute?" She stood up.

 

"Worse," She answered, "It's the Hyadesians they know we have the Fumians, and they know we have their technology. They want to talk to us. In fact, they're insisting on it. They tell us we can't be allowed to have the cure for cancer at this stage."

 

"Allowed?" Dr. Vernon's jaw set.

 

"That was the word," Mabel confirmed.

 

Lady Obsidian put her helmet on, and hit her general communication through out the base, "Attention all New Samaritans, and any other superheroes who wish to assist. If you are in the shape to fight, be prepared.  It may come to that. It looks like the advanced species is not ready for us to have a cure for cancer. We don't consider the Hyadesians enemies, but I think if diplomacy fails, we're going to have a ugly disagreement. If it comes to that, pull your punches. We do not want a war."

 

 And she moved to the monitor area, as did Tornado, Valorosa, Arctic Fox, Slime, a nervous looking Pogo, and myself.

 

"Pogo, we didn't mean you," I started to say.

 

She crossed her arms defensively, "I helped with the Fumians right? And, it's cancer right? Lots of lives on the line. You can try to send me away but I'll just come back again. Even if it ruins my chances of being in the program."

 

"Let her stick around at least for the talk, Eel," Lady Obsidian said, "She's earned that."

 

An image came on the screen. The Hyadesians looked like elves, or angels, minus the pointed ears. Their skin was a sky blue, and they gave off a very soft illumination from their eyes.

 

"Doctor Vernon, we meet again," The fellow, I think it was a fellow, very pretty for a guy, said.

 

"Yes, Ambassador La'Vesh, we are," There was a pause in the way she said the guy's name that made it sound like to pronounce it properly, you had to contemplate a hiccup for a half second then decide not to go through with it, "I understand you wish the Fumians. I certainly would prefer to turn them over to you rather than our government, but I would ask you let us hold them for a few more days."

 

"You realize that is not possible, the Fumians are too dangerous in their knowledge," La'Vesh said, "Their technology is too advanced. Even the cancer cure you seek."

"And how did you know about that we even had all this?" She inquired.

 

"Our job is observation," the ethereal alien said matter-of-factly, "We do come to your world as observers, and dispense some minor guidance as we deem suitable."

"Then why are you now insisting on condemning so many humans to death," Lady Obsidian demanded, "And you didn't answer my earlier question either, not really. You're clearly spying on us somehow."

 

"Actually, one of the Fumians had a concealed transmitter disguised as a scale. Rather than be 'robbed' of all technology, and then brought to us anyway, he tried to negotiate. We told you, bargaining is what Fumians try to do. We applaud you limiting yourself to just one advancement, and one with such a good cause, but it is more complicated than you realize. We condemn millions, in order to save your species."

 

"Explain?" Lady Obsidian said.

 

"My government does not believe you are ready for the complete truth of the matter," La'Vesh explained, "you are a child species, playing with increasingly adult technology. We ask you to trust in our greater maturity in these matters."

 

"Just because we're a younger species than you doesn't make us children," I said in what I hoped was my best Bab-Five protagonist tone.

 

"Yeah! What he said!" Pogo declared with overly youthful exuberance, somehow making me feel I just lost more points than I gained for my display of Terran confidence.

 

 

 

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6 hours ago, Lawnmower Boy said:

Yay! Pogo's back. (And that Fish Guy.) 

 

...

I can't wait until Canada has the technology to travel the stars, condescendingly lecturing other species. For now, I guess we'll just have to stick to America.  

 

Hey, Americans got compared (IIRC) to the Fumians so.. you know, better off? :)

 

I try to distribute cheap shots evenly

 

EDIT: that said, if it really did offend you and others please let me know. I might take it out ... I'm supposed to entertain readers, not tick them off.

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1 hour ago, BoloOfEarth said:

I like the new installment, though it seemed an odd place to stop.  Looking forward to the next part.

 

That's because there wasn't/isn't anymore. I hit an impasse of how it would exactly go down. Then hit a roadblock for months, I even jumped ahead a bit...but now I Have to decide what happens next...

will there be a fight (Because, comic book heroes)

Will there be talky talky reasoned debate?

If a fight, who wins? Because we don't want the heroes seeming unstoppable, but then it is their book?

 

etc

 

I know one result from this and that would be major spoiler territory

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1 hour ago, Hermit said:

 

That's because there wasn't/isn't anymore. I hit an impasse of how it would exactly go down. Then hit a roadblock for months, I even jumped ahead a bit...but now I Have to decide what happens next...

will there be a fight (Because, comic book heroes)

Will there be talky talky reasoned debate?

If a fight, who wins? Because we don't want the heroes seeming unstoppable, but then it is their book?

 

etc

 

I know one result from this and that would be major spoiler territory

Just go back and reread what you wrote. Sometimes that allows you to pick a better path for the story.

CES

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On 4/26/2018 at 10:27 AM, Hermit said:

 

That's because there wasn't/isn't anymore. I hit an impasse of how it would exactly go down. Then hit a roadblock for months, I even jumped ahead a bit...but now I Have to decide what happens next...

will there be a fight (Because, comic book heroes)

Will there be talky talky reasoned debate?

If a fight, who wins? Because we don't want the heroes seeming unstoppable, but then it is their book?

 

etc

 

I know one result from this and that would be major spoiler territory

Well, just to mix in some...I think you should go for 50/50 the heroes get a fight they don't want, and find a way to win for a negotiated peace. "We have our own strenths, just because we are yong does not mean we can be treated as less than equal" you know, comic book stuff. ?

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