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The Adventures of "Fish Guy" (Superhero fiction)


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Shush, you. I'm too busy worrying I turned folks off with the lovecraftian elements

Lovecraftian elements aren't necessarily bad. You can combine them into Lovecraftian compounds. Like salt, which is said to be essential.

 

Lucius Alexander

 

 

If I described it as "a two headed camel" that would not capture the full horror of it, for you would think of the kind of bicephaly that is not an uncommon deformity, though such things are usually born dead or die soon. And it was not deformed, it was as well formed in its way as an earthly creature with its own logical symmetry - oh, so symmetrical it was! - but it was a symmetry impossible to terrestrial life, utterly alien and repellent to me. The old sorcerer called it palindromedary, "that which runs each way alike." One could only approach it from the front, it was literally impossible to come at it from behind. Nothing could be behind it, for it had no behind to be!

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Shush, you. I'm too busy worrying I turned folks off with the lovecraftian elements

 

Everything's better with Lovecraft!

 

(singing) 

Nothing you can make that can't be unmade.

Not a person around that can be saved.

Nothing you can do because they will get to you in time.

It's easy.

 

All you need is love... craft.

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In which a team mate falls into a trap!

 

A dream like that is not the most pleasant way to wake up. The surreal images were still in my head, and were fading slower than I'd like. I tried not to make much of it. Clearly the combo of a shrimp dinner and all this Fish Guy/Atlantis talk had set my subconscious into creative overdrive. I suppose if I were a telepath or otherwise psychically sensitive, I'd be worried. That, however, is not one of my gifts, and frankly I'm glad. Too many  with mental powers end up with mental problems. If you can't filter things out, folks avoid you because you're constantly if involuntarily spying on them and you probably get access to some pretty ugly stuff that might destroy your faith in humanity. And if you filter it out, people still worry.

 

No thank you, I'll stick to bullet proof and super strong; that people understand. I hit the shower a few minutes, letting the cascade of water refresh and restore me. A thought occurred to me.

 

"Mabel?" I called out curiously.

 

"mmm my, what charming flanks on this particular bit of marine life," A voice purred in the bathroom.

 

"Mabel!" I said again, and grabbed my towel and wrapping it around my lower half hastily, "You're in here?"

 

"Eel, you did call me?" She reminded.

 

"Yes," I said, "Yes I did, I got curious," I blushed, "People are okay with you having access to the bathrooms?"

 

"Oh I get curious too. Very curious about the biological condition for example," There was a very throaty chuckle and then, "First. I don't hear you so much as you saying my name triggers a device in the bathrom that then allows me to interact. In case of emergency. Secondly,  to my disappointment, and perhaps your relief, shy thing; I don't have visual in there. I hear you, and that's all."

 

I was blushing furiously, which was ridiculous, "Oh," I centered myself, "And the bedroom?"

 

"Same thing, but I can beep or hit an alert to let you know to call out to me as they're probably news. I can scream from the hallways or send one of the cleaning bots to wham against your door until you finally pay attention to me," I could almost imagine a woman shrugging, "What girl likes being ignored?"

 

"I can't picture anybody ignoring you," I admitted.

 

"Awwww, that's sweet. Now, just for future reference, you'll see in almost every room at least one small panel, no bigger than a light switch with a tiny light on it? That's another way to contact me, but also gives you a code for what the status of the base is. Green means all is go, walk around without your mask if you want. Blue means we a non- team guest who is trusted by one of us, so you decide if you trust them too, page for more info etc. Yellow means we have a guest who is in but none of us fully trust, or a situation is arising that may go very badly. Be ready. And red...."

 

"It's hit the fan so get my costumed butt out there and get ready to save the day with the others?" It wasn't a hard guess.

 

"The sir is quick," She said pleased, "Anything else I can help you with while we're talking?"

 

Actually, a lot of questions rose to mind about Mabel. Don't get me wrong, I rather liked her voice, and I'd be lying if I didn't say the visuals I imagined of what body might go with a voice like that intrigued. But was she a true artificial intelligence or just incredibly advanced but actually unfeeling? Who made her? It really didn't seem like the sort of personality Lady O would program. So what was the story there?

 

I also had no idea how to bring up a questions like 'Are you a real person or just a model?' without sounding like a complete ass. So instead, I got dressed in my costume, because a blue light was on and asked, "Whose guest is here?"

 

"Pinprick," She answered, "His room is close to yours so you might meet his very special visitor." Mabel sounded amused by something.

 

"And I kind of crashed on night patrols last night, do we shifts or something?" Patrols are not really that effective at fighting crime directly if you're just randomly running around.  However, it has been known to reduce crime in area if superheroes are seen patrolling. That's why for every 'dark avenger of the night' who you never see, there are usually two garishly garbed heroes who fly over head trailing light or something. 

 

Now, for real comedy, one has to turn to the stories of those break and enter criminals who hammered their way into a house unaware it belonged a to a 'dark avenger of the night'. If said DAN has any detective skills at all, those poor jerks are in for the worst twenty four hours of their lives, I don't care if they only stole a TV set and that spare bag of pork rinds. Of course, it's also possible said dark avenger has wired the house with more traps along one door that Copperhead Road has along its entire length.

 

"Well, the doctor has a suggestion list of where and crimes peak in the city but each New Samaritan sets his or her own patrol path at their own discretion. You can access it directly from the network interfaces here, or just ask me and I'll give you the skinny," Mabel answered in her way, "After 3 AM even most of the scum are hitting the hay, but it builds again through out the day. As you're new, there will be someone playing tour guide to you on some of your first patrols still. How busy will you be today?"

 

"I need to hunt for an apartment and job, I guess," I sighed wistfully. This place would be so great, but if the grand dame of the city superheroes tells you not to lose your contact with the people of the city, she's probably right, "The job? Well, depends on what I can get. Maybe something flexible hourwise would be best. Less chance of getting fired for rushing off to save the day. I can postpone the hunt for either I suppose."

 

"Why don't you take a daytime patrol with Tornado after breakfast?" She suggested, "A nice young Southern gentleman like yourself should start with the easy stuff like bankrobbers and streetgangs before meeting the really scary threats."

 

"Like Californian supervillains?" I raised a brow about to remind her that with the Miscreants now under my belt, I'd done that.

 

"Like the cost of California rent," I could almost hear the smirk.

 

 

 

It turned out I was actually pretty close to Pinprick's room. I wasn't going to pry, but the door was slightly cracked open and I heard voices. One was Pinprick's, the other? 

 

"You have to save the girl," the young voice insisted, "It's what heroes do."

 

"I took out the bad guy," Pinprick responded, "She looks safe up there. So she waits awhile, big whoop."

 

Okay, after the worry about Mabel spying on me, I realized even as I did it what a total hypocrite I was being by peeking in but hey, I was a solo hero. What most call snooping, we call 'proactive patrol'. 

 

Within the room, I could see furniture had been co-opted, cushions from a couch were stacked like building blocks, and action figures were everywhere. Note, I said action figures, not dolls. No doubt the distinction would be very important to the boy who was moving them around and positioning them with dedication of a movie director of a high octane action thriller!  On the top of one cushion was a female action figure ,I didn't recognize the franchise. 

 

Below was an overly muscled blue action figure with a perpetual look of rage. He had a tiny arrow sticking in him, and was downed. It was clear he had been defeated by the mighty Pinprick, hero of Sofa City.

 

"Dad," the boy said with all the frustration of said director dealing with a prima donna star who wanted to change his lines willy nilly, "She could fall."

 

"Looks stable," He said after another glance, "As long as we don't knock it over."

 

"She might need to go to the bathroom," the sandy haired boy wheedled.

 

"She should have gone before she got kidnapped," Pinprick countered.

 

"Daaaaaad," The boy said in that tone of vexation.

 

"Fine, fine," An arrow was launched, and trailing to it was indeed a gossamer thread that caught the room light just so. As if by magic, which I guess it was, the strand seemed to almost float Pinprick to the couch cushion's highest point, "What now? I get her down she gives me a kiss or something?"

 

The boy made a face, "Don't be weird, dad."

 

It would appear this was not one of those action movies with tacked on romantic plot.

 

I snickered. I couldn't help myself. And Pinprick heard me. His eyes fixed on me, and he made a warning gesture, making a 'zip lips' motion, then follow it up with a quick thumb across his throat motion, finally followed by two fingers going to his eyes then pointing at mine.

 

I'm fairly bright. 'You tell anyone and you die, I'm watching you'  doesn't exactly require an understanding of American Sign Language.

 

However while he missed me, the boy did notice his father's gestures, "Dad, what are you...." He turned to see me, and looked at his action figures, and then back up at me, as if ready for whatever judgement I was about to bring down, "uhm, hi?"

 

"Hi," I observed from the door, "Cool set up. Is this really the end of the scene?"

 

The boy's eyes brightened, "Nah! See, that's when the hero gets tricked and it turns out it was all just a disguise to lure him here to his dooooom," He pulled out another figure, some sort of winged woman with a pretty evil look, then the boy confided, "He'd defeat her, but only after escaping from her death trap."

 

"Glen," Pinprick said his son's name with irritation, "The only reason I came up here was because you hounded me to do it."

 

"Yeah, but if this is real you would have done it," Glen countered, "Because you're a hero, and heroes do the right thing even if it gets them hurt. "

 

"What idiot told you that?" Pinprick snorted.

 

Glen blinked at him, "You did, the last time you got wounded."

 

I can take a blow from a crow bar wielded by a dock worker, and I still think I hurt myself a little holding my laughter in at the look on Pinprick's face.

 

"I don't remember that," He crossed his arms, and then, perhaps to change the subject, "Glen, this is our newest member, Eel. Eel, this is my son, Glen. I got him for the day so we were... hanging out."

 

"I saw on the TV," Glen grinned as I was introduced, "You're strong!"

 

"Thanks," I said, "A pretty common power."

 

"Yeah, but you also go into the ocean...." Glen said enthused, "And that means you must be super tough, I mean, you can go down really deep right?"

 

"Yeah," I said, surprised the kid was making the connection, "You learned about ocean depths in school?"

 

"Some," He agreed, "Oceans are cool. The pressure down below can buckle steel, and you can go down there? Awesome."

 

"It's not that awesome," Pinprick muttered.

 

"Come on, dad! You only protect 1/3rd of the planet, he protects two thirds of it because most of the world is ocean! That's why ocean heroes might even be cooler than archers."

 

"He protected North Carolina, then flew over here," Pinprick explained irritably, "And since when aren't archers your favorite?"

 

"Since Mrs. Mackabe told us about oceans," The boy said, "But I can like archers too."

 

"My tax dollars working against me," The Lilliputian archer muttered.

 

"To be fair, your dad has a point," I said, "I'm the Rookie here, and I haven't protected that large an area, but I'm working on it. With his help."

 

Did I imagine it or did Pinprick shoot me a surprised but grateful look?  I wasn't sure why. I hadn't done much.

 

"Cool," The boy said now beaming at his dad again, "Yeah, dad can show you the ropes."

 

"Well, I better let you get back to ambushing your father, "I told Glen, "It it was good to meet you."

 

"You too!" The boy said, and then turned back to his harpy whats it, saying in a overdone shriek of a woman's voice, "Foolish hero, you have fallen into my trap as I knew you would ! mwhahaha!" then Glen spoke normally again, "And then she knocks you out."

 

"Don't I get a saving throw or something?" Pinprick grumbled.

 

"What's a saving throw?" His son inquired.

 

"A term's that's making daddy feel very very old and far less cool than he wants to be the more he thinks about it..." was the last thing I heard as I slipped out of the room so I could finally chuckle safely.

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Ah yes, stories about dimwitted crooks picking the wrong house or apartment to break into, those are always good for some chuckles. And the Copperhead Road reference brought a smile to my face. Some home owners it turns out are proponents of the Castle Doctrine... the Frank Castle Doctrine, that is. ;)

 

I'm also reminded of a news story about two idiots who tried to mug, of all people, Chuck Norris. Yes, you heard me right, that Chuck Norris. Apparently the two brain-trusts thought all the martial arts he did in movies and on TV were fake. Needless to say, it didn't end well for them.

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Ah, I do likes me some supers doing everyday things. Quite a bit of red marking to do in there; but it's all golden.  :thumbup: :thumbup:

 

Oh yes, if I ever get to a proper editing stage, the prose will bleed rivers for the crimes against English I have perpetuated.

(And I'll still miss things!)

 

And thanks. Pinprick has gotten a lot of fleshing out, and he maybe the cowbell of this band (As in "I've got a fever ,and the only cure is more Pinprick") as I find his voice easy to slip into.  However, I hope to work some more for Tornado in as well when he takes Fish Guy patrolling.

 

 

 

that's the opposite of true. 

 

 

Good scene with Glen. 

 

I'm not the biggest Lovecraft fan myself, but if it helps, I will say this is a superhero genre for good or ill, which means less helplessness and madness, more hope and punchy punch!

 

Glen will not be directing that. The kid is a tyrant.

 

 

 

Ah yes, stories about dimwitted crooks picking the wrong house or apartment to break into, those are always good for some chuckles. And the Copperhead Road reference brought a smile to my face. Some home owners it turns out are big proponents of the Castle Doctrine... the Frank Castle Doctrine, that is.  ;)

 

I'm also reminded of a news story about two idiots who tried to mug, of all people, Chuck Norris. Yes, you heard me right, that Chuck Norris. Apparently the two brain-trusts thought all the martial arts he did in movies and on TV were fake. Needless to say, it didn't end well for them

 

Yay! Someone noticed the song reference! On these boards I'm not surprised but I am happy. Yeah, mugging the monster (or whatever the trope is called) appeals to my petty side. But I maybe giving away too much.

 

Speaking of Frank Castle times, yes, Eel will eventually meet Bloodwatch.

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In my head, it will all make sense as things are unveiled.

 

In actual performance? We'll see. Dream sequences can be kind of a gamble. *Crosses fingers* 

 

Oh well, hope folks enjoyed today's effort.

There isn't some villain in the wings who messes with people's dreams? Come now. You could call him ... L. Marcus!

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Yay! Someone noticed the song reference! On these boards I'm not surprised but I am happy.

Of course we noticed. One of my friends plays a character based on the song in a Monster Hunters game. My character even refers to his as "Copperhead."

 

Oh, and I like dream sequences.

 

Lucius Alexander

 

The palindromedary says we based that character on the version in Susano's famous "characters based on a song" found in Surbrook's Stuff and in a thread right here on herogames.

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OK, I got on a bit of a riff today, and it turned out I wrote more than usual in one day. I'm gonna split it up a bit. In this segment, we meet Ted. And honestly, I'm not sure why that feels like it might be of cosmic import.

 

"Enjoy your breakfast?" Tornado inquired after I had adjusted to the communicator going in my ear. The vertigo sensation was quicker this time.

 

"Mabel's a pretty darn good cook," I answered, "I had a breakfast burrito."

 

"That's the great thing about California, my friend, you can get real Mexican here," He said with such casualness I guess I didn't bother to hide my bemused expression, "What?"

 

"We have real Mexican food in North Carolina too, and real Thai, and real Moroccan Cuisine," I pointed out, "Usually with actual people of those heritages running the restaurants, but when I was in New York City for two weeks everyone there thought that it must all be grits and pig's feet and that only they had the secret of real culinary diversity."

 

"Bah, New Yorker's have no imagination," Tornado sniffed and I could tell an old rivalry was at play here, then added, "But I get your point. Pardon, my state pride may have turned into regionalism." To his credit, he looked chagrinned.

 

"It's okay," I assured him, "I know that there are going to be some fusion foods I've never tried here before, though we experiment with that in the South too. I love me a good bacon Blini…"

 

"A bacon bilini?" he said, "You took a Jewish food and…"

 

"It's not always Jewish," I said.

 

"Clearly not, not once you put bacon in it, no," He followed me to the hovercar.

 

 Pinprick wasn't with us, and for once, even if Mabel was going to driving it, I wanted in the Driver's seat.

 

"Now, a good Southern Style BBQ quesadilla deep fried? Mmm mmm…" I kissed my fingertips as if recalling a fantastic meal from grandmother's plate, "hard to beat that. Goes great with hog jowls."

 

"You're yanking my chain, man" He got in the other side of the vehicle.

 

"About the jowls? Yeah…" I smiled, and off we went.

 

The car shot up through the still opening roof, and hit the Costa Sagrado sky. This time, there was no emergency to fly to, so I got the second easy kind of looping tour I had once before. The sun was shining, and the weather was perfect. My own regional pride aside, I must give the edge to Californians there. Mediterranean climates are wonderful.

 

"Let's hit the residential areas," He said, "After the bulk of people start their nines to fives, there's a brief spike in everything from full on break ins to jerks taking packages off doorsteps."

 

"Boldly protecting your e-shipment from Big Online Company number three," I muttered shaking my head.

 

"The ballads will be epic," the local hero nodded sagely.

 

The residential area he had chosen first was a mix of repetitive far too close properties and surprisingly bright colors. I guess when your houses resemble each other, you start painting doors, trim, shutters and roofs in as many bright colors as possible. From above, it was quite lovely. Even the roofs that had faded mixed in with the brighter ones to make a kaleidoscope of hues. At least where I was from, most new houses embraced more neutral colors like gray or beige, and while sometimes stately, that could also be a bit drab.

 

"Okay, Mabel, we'll take it from here," Tornado assured her, then looked at me, "Jump out anytime."

 

"We'd cross more terrain in the car," I said, feeling a bit dumb for stating the obvious. This also brought up one of my short comings as a superhero. Like I had demonstrated before, I can jump amazingly far, but I always feel silly bounding around. There's very little dignity in squatting, launching, landing with a thud, and then starting it all over again. Also, it can be hard on the terrain if you're not careful. I don't run at superhuman speeds, and a standard walk or even jog in costume invites… social commentary. I'm a swimmer, but as everyone knows, that requires a liquid medium.

 

"Hey man, think of the criminals who might be out there," Tornado raised a brow, "They see a cop car just breeze by fast… you think they're that discouraged? Nope. They figure those cops are gone one minute after they're seen and won't be back anytime soon. Now, if cops get out of their car and move around on foot…  suddenly the would-be crime culprits got better places to be."

 

"Point," I said, and leaped over the side. Another twenty foot drop or so, another painless landing.

 

Tornado had a more casual glide out of the vehicle, and the car rose up and out, ready to return when we called Mabel on the com.

Speaking of which…

 

"Test Test, just making sure the ear piece is working," I smiled and added, "over."

 

"Roger that, mi amigo," Tornado's chuckle came in loud in clear through the ear-piece, "There we go. I'll take high ground, you take the low."

 

"And I'll get to Scotland before you," I answered without thinking about it. Oh well, what the heck, I had ridden in a bus in costume, I could stand walking around in one… in broad daylight, in a neighborhood of folks who didn't know me.

 

Man, I missed bank robberies already.

 

For Tornado, it was easy.  I was pretty much redundant, as he moved so quickly, and unrestrainedly so, that he could have scoped the whole neighborhood in the time it took me to walk a half block. He shot through the air like a peregrine falcon, fast and agile. Only his circling back to keep me in his sights now and then restrained him at all.

 

Okay, for the first five minutes, I felt a bit silly. Then? Well, I met Ted.

 

Staggering out of his house in a pair of pajama bottoms and a ratty T-shirt, Ted blinked twice as the great golden orb above as if it should have at least warned him, then shielded his eyes and saw me. His T-shirt had a cartoon pony on it, and a slogan saying 'It's Brony at the top'.  He was too far gone, facial hair wise for five o'clock shadow, but I couldn't quite call it a beard. His age was hard to place, could have been as young as twenty five or as old as thirty two.

 

"Hey, Brah," He waved, "I'm Ted."

 

"Uhm, Hi Ted," I said, "I'm Eel. How you doing?" This was kind of odd, but I was raised that when folks said hello, you at least said hello back, and yes, even if you don't care, you are polite enough to ask them how things are with them, their family, etc. Southern hospitality is based a lot on smiling and nodding and waiting for whoever to please walk away.

 

"Not to bring you down, Eel, but I'm in a bit of a panic," He said in a voice so laid back, I'm not sure we agreed on what the term 'panic' meant.  He didn't elaborate.

 

Okay, I thought, I'll bite, "What's got you panicked, Ted?"

 

"Well, first… if you're a supervillain, my life could be in danger," He said with an easygoing matter of fact combo that was kind of endearing. I mean, I suspected he might be stoned out of his mind, but after my talk of regional stereotypes I didn't want to presume that about just any Californian I met.

 

"I'm a superhero," I reassured him, that is, if he really needed reassurance. If he was fearing for his life, he really wasn't putting much energy into the terror, "I'm a member of the New Samaritans."

 

"Bitchin," He gave a thumb's up, "The Sammies are tight. Good folk," He paused, then looked left, and looked right, "Respecting her agency and all? I would totally do Fox."

 

It was the second time that day I had nearly swallowed my own face trying to contain a laugh, "I see. Thank you for entrusting me with this knowledge."

 

"It's cool man, you seem alright," Ted said, "now that I know you're not a villain."

 

"The other reason you're in a panic?" I coughed into my hand.

 

"What's going on?" A voice popped in my ear, "Everything okay?"

 

"I'm not sure," I responded tilting my head to the side and muttering trusting the mandible action to transmit sound like they told me it would for these things, "I have a gent here in a panic, but that panic appears to be the only thing keeping him from slipping into a coma. Also, is our team nick named the Sammies?"

 

"Yup," Tornado sounded amused, "So, yes, you are Fish Guy of the Sammies."

 

"My life is now complete," I said, then noticed that Ted was staring at me, "Sorry, Ted. I didn't mean to be rude. Team mate buzzing in my ear, I'm still getting used to how the com works. You were saying?"

 

"It's cool, now a days half the conversations I see are folks talking to mid air," Ted said, "And they don't lock us up for it like they would have decades ago. Brave New world…" He yawned, "Pardon. I was saying Emperor Norton is missing."

 

"Do his subjects know?" I said, feeling clueless.

 

Ted actually laughed, well, it was more like a 'heh' sound, but it was sincere, and his smile showed great mirth, "Oh right. You might know… the first Emperor Norton was this awesome historical guy… Emperor of the United States, Protector of All Mexico. Fantastic dude who lived in San Francisco. You should totally look him up. The Emperor Norton I'm looking for Is my cat, well, more like I'm his human, but I'm a bit worried, you know?"

 

I winced. It wasn't exactly a cat in the tree thing, but it could easily lead to that. I mean, I don't want to cop an attitude, but there are real crimes going on out there. There are actual human beings who are lost and at risk. Cat lost and found is really a bit…well, it's not very superheroic.

 

"He's like, a silver tabby and …" Ted began to describe the feline in highly needless detail, including Norton's preference for tuna over salmon.

Please don't ask me to help find him, I chanted in my head, trying to will the universe to give me a pass here, please don't ask me to help you find him….

"…and that's why I suspect he and I get along despite our political differences," Ted finished his description, and then tilted his head at my with those big ultra- relaxed eyes with just a hint of concern in them, "Could you help me find him?"

 

Oh, sweet mother of god…

 

I wanted to say, but kept it to my head as I plastered on a smile and said, "Sure, Ted. Let's…look around."

 

I touched my ear, "Hey, Tornado, we're looking for a silver tabby and… stop chuckling man, I can hear you. Anyway, with your speed…"

 

"Sorry, man, I'm already helping someone else, " Tornado assured me, "The Borlyn sisters are having trouble moving a washing machine."

 

"The Borlyn sisters better be sweet old ladies with blue and or gray hair," I muttered.

 

He spoke back in an offended tone, "Sir, we help people of all ages when called, even attractive young twins of Swedish descent, shame on you for your limited criteria of who and who does not deserve our aid. Now go find that cat, rookie."

 

As I glanced down the street where Tornado was indeed talking it up with two well-built blondes that could have been swimsuit models, swim suit models with sexy accents no doubt, I realized that, friendly as my team was to me, I was still, in their view, on the bottom of the totem pole.  And yeah, given a choice of chores, I was going to be the one cat wrangling, at least for the first month.

 

"Maybe if you got some of that tuna and brought it out here?" I suggested to Ted and resigned myself to Kitty retrieval.

 

"An hour and a half," I grumbled, "I searched for Emperor Norton for an hour and a half while you were being cooed at by Heidi and Inga," I shot a look at Tornado.

"Jealous?" He asked.

 

"Yes," I nodded vigorously, "And how."

 

"I really did have to help them move a washing machine," Tornado explained.

 

"I have superstrength and heightened stamina.I'm built for heavy lifting!"

 

"Don't yell," Tornado said but as that smile was still on his face, I figured he was more amused by my agitation than offended, "The important thing is, you found the cat, and both of us made friends. You with Ted, and I with the Borlyn sisters."

 

"Trade ya," I said without hesitation.

 

"You're too young to be such a bitter man, my friend," Tornado sighed, "Now, patrolling is almost done, we're in a grateful neighborhood, the sun is still shining. The birds are singing ...the stoners are petting their cats."

 

"So much hate," I muttered.

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Every world needs their evil organizations, so here's the next part where...well, you'll see.

 

 

"Tornado, Eel," Lady Obsidian's voice popped through the coms, "G.O.A.T. is on the loose near Claremont Park, everyone else, myself included, is…" I thought I heard the sound of thunder, "occupied. We can handle ours, but you two need to get to Claremont Park, now."

 

"No time to call the hover car then," Tornado observed then directed, "Spread your arms, we're about to get friendly."

 

"Like this?" I said spreading out into a sort of a T shape. As soon as I did so, Tornado hooked his arms under my own and lifted me into the air. I suppose I should be grateful. There are other, more undignified ways, to be hauled about. Frankly, this would be murder on the pits for another guy, but my physical limits can handle ocean depths and bullets. I can handle the under arm wedgie.

 

"Whoa…" I said as we streaked off. Despite this position being the opposite of aerodynamic, we were really moving! While super strength wasn't his power, Tornado was an athlete and a hand to hand fighter, and if he was straining to carry me about like this, I didn't hear a peep of complaint. Then again, there was very little worth joking about right now.

 

"I had heard GOAT was more organized here," I said glad for the com because as fast as we were going, I'm sure my voice was twenty feet behind me as soon as I said anything, "They're not so big in the North Carolina."

 

"You guys are lucky, here the Generous Obstacles to American Terrorism are thriving," he said their full name with disgust.

 

G.O.A.T. is one twisted organization. Yet more proof that bad people will take perfectly legitimate concerns to dark-dark places. No one knows who started it, but it's mission statement is that they wish to end American military and economic aggression abroad. That we are not supposed to be the world police and not only do we spread chaos to other nations in our attempts to do so, we cheat and starve our own as we neglect the many problems here and we need to look inward. Hardly the most offensive ideology I've heard even if, personally, I think it is simplistic.

 

The problem is their means. G.O.A.T. commits domestic terrorism hoping to force national and state governments to forget about other countries, and turn more military resources inward. Members of G.O.A.T. didn't just choose their name because it's a short easy to handle acronym. They see themselves as willing sacrifices. They will go to jail, or even die, in their efforts to make Uncle Sam pay attention to the problems within its own borders. Even if they must become the problem to make it happen.

 

Naturally, G.O.A.T. hates superheroes with a passion. When one superhero can take down a squad of their blaster carrying zealots, well, it means that we're both reducing the damage they hope to cause, and taking them on instead of police and militias. One member of G.O.A.T. declared superheroes to be "Traitors to American Peace."

 

Yes, he really said that, without any grasp of irony or hypocrisy.

 

We came upon Claremont Park, which had dozens of G.O.A.T. Troopers, blaster rifles in hand, and those helmets with a goat head charging in the colors of red, white, and blue. Remember, a lot of these whack jobs believe they're being cruel to be kind to America. While every member had his own reasons for doing what he did, the official stand by G.O.A.T. is that they're the only real patriots left in America.

 

Whoever was funding the organization did not skimp. SWAT uniforms are frailer than the gear handed out to the lowliest G.O.A.T. goon. It's not powered armor or exo-suits (Thank goodness) but the point is, they would have conventional law enforcement out geared and out gunned.

 

Speaking of guns…

 

"Is that a pulse cannon?" I blinked at the cutting edge siege weapon four of them were positioning. A huge blast shot from it, and a burst of energy released! We were too late!

 

Fortunately, they hadn't calibrated the angles right. What should have devastated a federal building instead grazed it, but even that caused a fissure along its side.

 

"Yeah, you say you're tough?" Tornado had also winced at the near destruction of the place, "Tough enough to smash through a pulse cannon?" His hands were shifting, grabbing one leg and  I realized what he was planning.

 

I stiffened, made fists, and braced, "It'll break before I do." I promised. Actually I wasn't sure of what this model was composed of, or if it had unseen energy field tech. It's possible it would break me even as I broke it, but given how many people were probably in that building it was already charging up for another blast at?

 

Well, in the hero game we call that an even trade.

 

"Via Con Dios," I thought I heard Tornado say as he picked up speed, and then released me before arcing up in a perfect right angle high into the sky!

 

My own motion wasn't going to be as pretty! The sheer velocity behind me meant I wasn't in danger of hitting ground first. Tornado knew his stuff. But the weapon before me, already the size of a pickup truck, expanded as it filled my vision. I had closed on it faster than you can say ….

 

Boom.

 

Metal shredded, wires popped and torn lose lashing at my skin! The impact rattled my teeth. It was like the belly buster from hell off a high dive, only with artillery sized death ray rather than a pool's surface to cause it. It was indeed tough, but I was tougher and my earlier boast proved not to be empty.

It broke. I didn't.

 

It took me a moment to clear my eyes; the groan came instantly. The mangled remnants of the Pulse Canon were fifteen feet away, and the scattered crew that had been manning it were out cold, though I didn't see any injuries. Their uniforms must have shielded them from the shrapnel.

 

In the meantime, Tornado was kicking ass! He wasn't the fastest speedster, I'd been told that. Well, a sports car isn't as fast as a plane, buy you still don't want one running into you. More than that, he was a skilled hand to hand fighter!  Flight gave him a lot of free reign to used circle and crescent kicks at angles folks weren't used to defending against, and he used them like Bruce Lee's Latino love child! Even the armor the G.O.A.T. goons were sporting only protected them so much.

Tornado dodged a burst of blaster fire from one guy, weaving between the individual rays of it, closed, and struck the visor of said gun man with an open palm, shattering the visor and knocking the guy into la la land. Another G.O.A.T lobbed a grenade at him, despite the fact his compatriot was right there only six or so feet below the heroes' feet.

 

"Tornado, grenade!" I called out.

 

I didn't know if he heard me or just noticed on his own but he whirled in a circle, caught the grenade in one hand as smoothly as you please, and then threw it high into the air where it exploded doing no harm to anyone.

 

I was not about to leave all the fun to him. Another squad of goons, realizing their pulse cannon was destroyed, decided to complete the mission without it and went charging towards the Federal building that was grazed earlier.

 

 I do not run at super speed, but I was faster than them. I snagged one by the scruff of his collar and body slammed him down hard. That was all it took and he was out of the fight. I looked at the other four, "My name's Eel. Throw your guns down, on your knees, hands behind your backs!"

 

No reasoning with fanatics, they all pointed their weapons at me, and one of them yelled, "For a Peaceful America!" And they blasted me!

 

I waded in, teeth gritting. I won't lie and say it didn't hurt. It stung like hell. There's weren't bullets I could just shrug off, this were concentrated weapons of force that hit with far more pressure, and despite their plans suddenly having two costumed monkey wrenches thrown into their works, the G.O.A.T. troopers were still fairly coordinated. They were aiming for what should be my vulnerable parts… eyes and head, joints… my groin.

 

So yes, it stung.

 

I grabbed one riffle and just broke it right in front of the guy, the steel of it warping under my grip. Out of the corner of I could see some of the Troopers had popped smoke hoping to get an edge on Tornado. He just did that swirly arm thing speedsters do and blew the smoke away, then raced by each one with multiple strikes that left each nutbar reeling.

 

"I hope we're not keeping score," I admitted in the com as I kicked a G.O.A.T. Trooper in his ass, launching him against a nearby tree, "Because if we are, I am way behind."

 

I could hear Tornado's grin over the line, "You're forgetting the four at the pulse cannon, Eel," He reminded as he redirected one charging agent into the path of another zealot causing the two to collide with a painful thunk.

 

"Oh yeah," I said, "Thanks, I feel better!" I brought an elbow against the chest of the one trying to climb my back and use some sort of high tech vibrating knife.

 

Who knows? It might have hurt me, but not with him having a possible broken rib and all. While he contemplated his life choices, I moved onto the last one.

 

"Oh course," Tornado continued, "Now that you mention keeping score…"  The blue blur that was Tornado shot up to my last foe, grabbed him in some sort of wrist lock, then whirled him around and around multiple times before sending him crashing into another guy a full fifteen feet away. Before I could even curse my surprise, Tornado followed that path himself, went over the unconscious duo, and found another set of two which he simultaneously clotheslined! They went down gasping.

 

"Oh come…" I started to protest even as he dodged another shot ducking under it, closed with yet another fellow, and disarmed the man before knocking him out with his own rifle…. "On." I finished lamely, "Save a few for me?"

 

Only one G.O.A.T. guy was left, running away without any rifle I could see, "You want him or shall I…" I figured it would take me longer but…

 

The normally playful Tornado's eyes widened, "He's not running away!"

 

Only then did I realize in looking for the rifle, I'd missed the grenade the G.O.A.T. was carrying! More than one actually, and he wasn't going to throw them, he'd already pulled the…

 

Tornado struck before the grenades did. One moment he was near me, the next he was a streak of motion veering to the G.O.A.T.'s side and knocking him away from the building… and more. He gave a  super speed SHOVE to the guy, and I realized not only was he trying to keep the grenades from exploding near the building, he was hoping to push the terrorist far enough on the other side to save the man from his own grenades.

 

It was not a complete success, the grenades exploded, the goon was about ten feet clear when they did and then got blow another fifteen. Tornado, not an idiot, had tried to peel back but was also thrown, carried by the explosive wave and smacked into the federal building!

 

I was running towards the scene as soon as I realized my oversight, but it all happened so fast I felt like I was moving in molasses.

 

In winter.

 

I know others come first, that superheroes look after even scum ball lives, and that any one of us knows we might die and we respect the others in this calling feel the same. But when I got there, it wasn't the G.O.A.T. trooper I went to. I bent down right over Tornado.

 

"Oh please, Jesus let him be alive," I was babbling, praying, something in between. I removed enough of his costume to check his pulse.

 

"Oh thank God," I said with relief. He was out, deep out, but he wasn't dead! "Okay, fine you win the contest, and you so earned the twins. Don't scare me like.."

That's when I heard the crack.

 

I looked over the building they'd been trying to destroy, "Oh no," I muttered.

 

The slight fissure from the earlier pulse cannon graze was not so slight anymore. While the worst of the explosion had made a crater in the street, enough of the blastwave had added to the minor damage to make it major! That building, was about to fall over.

 

I glanced at some nearby cars, immediately discounting some of the newer hybrid models. Steel. I need steel, preferably grade A Pittsburgh to Detroit piece of Americana that might…

 

"Yes!" I seized the SUV as soon as I found it and flattened it into a more column like shape with one or two good slams before shoving it against the building to slow the fall. Then I ripped out a street lamp pole, and positioned it as well. High and low, got em both.

 

Both would, eventually, bend, break, and that building might come tumbling down. I shot a look at the G.O.A.T. fanatic who had dropped the grenades. Despite what my darker angel told me, I hauled him up over my left shoulder before taking Tornado over my right. A quick leap, and they were clear.

 

"Please tell me you guys are done with whatever you're doing," I said on the Communication line as I turned back to the building and braced against it. I wasn't as well positioned as the car or pole, but I could handle more, a lot more! So  I braced, and held up the four story building with my  gloved hands as best I could!

 

"We've taken out G.O.A.T. but they've damaged a building… four stories, solid brick. It's going down if I can't hold it, and I'm not sure how long I can. There may be innocents in there, Torando is out cold. Please tell me you can hear me!"

 

"We hear you, Tiger… " Mabel assured me, "I'll send the car around to help speed transport of any innocents in the area."

 

"Thanks," I muttered. That was something at least.

 

"Eel, listen to me, I'm still busy, but you've got this," Lady Obsidian told me, "Now, how much do you know about engineering?"

 

"I played with legos as  a kid," I confesed, "And I'm using someone's SUV and a street light as  aids to brace."

 

"Describe the damage of the wall to me, and I will guide you…" She informed me,  "I'm on my way, but just do as I say, and you should be able to hold it long enough to make sure any innocents get out, and then you can let it fall."

 

"I can't let it fall," I said stubbornly.

 

"It's just a building, Eel," Lady Obsidian said, "Just a thing."

 

"It's not just a thing, I don't even know what this building is beyond the fact it's Federal, but it doesn't matter. It's a symbol now at least. They wanted it down, they wanted it broken. If I just give up on it…" I gritted my teeth, "If I let it fall, they win. If they win, they use it to inspire other nutbars.  I'm not walking away from this without trying to stop that from happening. This building's my baby now and you are not taking my baby away from me."

 

There was a pause, "Your baby? Really?"

 

I winced, "Okay, it sounded better in my head… I mean, I got going…good start, then I kind of meandered…. Point is I'm not gonna let It fall, ma'am."

"First things first, we make sure innocents get out and then I'll argue about it… Load bearing 101," she said with calm.

 

And I listened. I answered her questions about the nature of the crack. Had it broken outward or inward, and what the difference meant. Was it really brick, or was the merely the exterior appearance… etc. I answered, listened, and did what I was told to keep that building up.

 

It turned out a total of twenty seven people had been in that building. They had actually huddled in tight against walls when the noises and cracking went, figuring the building would be safe. Mabel got their number, called their office, and calmly explained that the building was trying to tilt over and spill into the street and could they please get out of there?

 

Anyone who says government workers don't know how to hustle did not see the same crew I did, I can tell you that!

 

"Is there anyone else?" I called out after what felt like an eternity of holding the building up, but I knew was only minutes. The light post had broken about two minutes ago, but that SUV remnant was holding in tough.

 

American Made! That's what I'm talking about.

 

I knew it was a silly thought, but those G.O.A.T. psychos had tried to co-opt my country and I'd be damned if I'd let them own patriotism entirely.

"Everyone's out," Mabel said, "You know, tiger, you can let it go now?"

 

"Nope," I said hoping I sounded fresh as a daisy though I suspected I was more akin to ragweed right now, "I'm good. SUV and I have got this. Just two good ole boys keeping it steady."

 

"Oh, Lady Obsidian is going to love this news," Mabel said. She had already picked up Tornado and taken him to the base for healing, well, a mail man had helped put the hero into it. Then again, he seemed as smitten with her voice as any fellow would be so he probably didn't mind at all, because she flirted outrageously with him.

 

Authorities were gathering up the G.O.A.T. members. Talk about Federal, these guys were a mix of military and men in black suits with earwigs, shades and no sense of humor. They gathered up every bit of tech they could find.

 

Reporters watched with their best cameras from a safe distance.

 

So really, the only life in danger was mine.

 

Nope. Not letting this building down, "If you can take it," I told the SUV, "I can take it"

 

That's when the SUV finally gave up the ghost and buckled forcing me to scramble to take on the extra weight.

 

"Oh, come on, man!" I told the SUV, "Represent!"

 

Quitter.

 

I wasn't sure I could handle this anymore. How long had I been holding this up? Were the others still in a fight? Where was Lady Obsidian and…

Suddenly the weight was gone, not reduced, just flat out gone. Something had shoved me away from the wall, but rather than having a building fall on top of me, I turned to find it not only being held by bands of force energy but actually shifted back into proper place.

 

Lady Obsidian had arrived! And she had arrived prepared. Her armor was used photonic energy and force field tech as weapons and tools all the time, but she was also carrying some odd staff with ends that looked a bit like tesla coils. I would find out later that it was a kind of extra battery so she wouldn't tap out of juice despite the huge project. She hadn't arrived alone either.

 

A construction team moved in unafraid.

 

"Are they going to be okay?"

 

"Oh yes, now that everything is in position again, they can replace what's damaged fast and brace it," Lady Obsidian said kindly, "Eel, are you okay? You look dead on your feet."

 

I probably did. I had never used my full strength for so long. Every muscle in my body ached, and it would be worse tomorrow, I could tell. I wiped the sweat from my brow, "I need some rest, but I'm good. Thanks."

 

"Good," And her voice snapped, "Get your stubborn white ass into the hovercar and get back to base. Right now, young man! We will talk later about you valuing a post office building more than you do your own health!"

 

I winced and fell into the back seat of the car so Mabel could take me off. I had saved a Post office?

 

Yay?

 

 

"A real friend wouldn't laugh," I said sourly to Tornado who was laying in the medbay bed.

 

Naturally, he broke out into laughter. It would seem his injuries were pretty minor, bruises really. While not supertough, he had managed to 'ride out' the explosion and smack far better than I thought he would, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he finally stopped, "It's just, we saved a Post office?"

 

"A fancy one," I said defensively, "The mailboxes and nice entrance were on the back side mostly, so it's only natural we didn't notice. Also, turns out that three months ago, it had been a military recruitment center before they found a better place and the city put it work for the mailmen instead."

 

"Ah, so G.O.A.T. may have either been targeting the post office, or more likely, still under the idea it was a symbol of the military," He nodded.

 

"Yeah," I said, "But boy, do I feel dumb. I mean, sure, I needed to hold it up until everyone got out, but after that…" I thought about what I was about to say, then realized it wouldn't be true, "Nope. I guess I still would have denied G.O.A.T. the satisfaction. It was worth it."

 

"Has Lady Obsidian lectured you on this yet?" Valentino inquired.

 

"Not yet, she's been too busy, I think I'm scheduled for it sometime tomorrow," I admitted.

 

"Oh, then you don't really know if it's worth it or not," The speedster countered.

 

I must have made a face, because he laughed again.

 

"Told you someone was slacking in here," Pinprick's voice came from the door at the laugh. I turned to see not just Pinprick, but Glen!

 

I was surprised the kid was still here, but it looked like he had his backpack and was actually ready to go and the boy himself confirmed that as he moved right to the unmasked speedster and said, "Valentino! I'm heading home now back to mom, but dad said I could come in and give you my get well soon card," Glen lowered his voice sotto, "I put it your secret ID name on it instead of your hero id name, so no one would know I knew a hero if it ever got discovered, but now that I think about it, it may now endanger your identity if someone breaks into the base… so if you need to, don't be afraid to burn it." The boy said sagely.

The card in question was a homemade thing, with bright colorful designs with the level of artistry you'd expect from a kid. Which is to say, not much, but with enthusiasm!

 

Valentino looked it with reverence, "Burn it? No way, I'm saving this like a collectible and cashing in years later when you're famous. Don't worry," His own stage whisper, "I'll keep it on lock down until then."

 

Glen looked left, looked right, and gave an exaggerated wink back.

 

"Okay okay, you gave your card, say your good byes and let's get you to your mothers and the Ralph," Pinprick said.

 

"Bye, Valentino, bye Eel! Great work today!" he assured us, "You guys must really like getting your mail on time."

 

"Come on, come on.." Pinprick shooed his son along while we waved to them both.

 

When they were gone I looked back at Valentino who actually was taking care with the card, "You and Pinprick's son seem to get along," I commented.

"Why not?" He grinned, "Great kid, and besides, Pinpirck tolerates my little niece."

 

I chuckled at the image of what some little girl might make of a six inch tall man who might resemble a living doll begging to be sat down for a tea party, "You got family?"

 

"FFfft, I'm Latino man, I don't got family, family's got me… and there's not get out jail free card for that," he assured me, "Heck, my niece will probably show up when my mom does tonight."

 

"Awww, " I grinned, "that's sweet. Sometimes I miss my folks."

 

"We got phones, Fish Guy," He reminded with a smile.

 

 "You're right," I nodded, maybe it was the near death experience I  had almost seen today, or the one I was worried about when Lady O had her own 'coming to Jesus' moment with me tomorrow, but suddenly getting in touch again with my own family sounded like a good idea, "Pardon me, I got a call to make."

 

Valentino waved as I headed out.

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The mark of a true Hero.

 

Saving cats is a pretty big deal to some folks  :yes:

There's a "going postal" joke in there somewhere...

 

I hope to have fun with that ...Lady O may think it was foolish, but the noble Fraternity of Postal workers...their memory is long. And at least one of the mail men of this fair city is...

frankly a bit off.

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I liked both parts today, the second a bit more than the first.  And I really do like Ted.  Favorite line:  "…and that's why I suspect he and I get along despite our political differences."

However, I do think there's no real transition between Eel talking to Ted, and then talking to Tornado.  It felt disjointed to me.  At first, I thought he was saying "An hour and a half" to Ted, like he was setting a time limit on the search.  Perhaps something like:  "An hour and a half," I grumbled to Tornado after we finally found the tabby.  It's nothing major, but I felt the need to point it out.

 

And hey, Eel should be happy it wasn't a snake named Fluffy.  :winkgrin:

 

Overall, though, well done.  Still enjoying the heck out of it.

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I liked both parts today, the second a bit more than the first.  And I really do like Ted.  Favorite line:  "…and that's why I suspect he and I get along despite our political differences."

However, I do think there's no real transition between Eel talking to Ted, and then talking to Tornado.  It felt disjointed to me.  At first, I thought he was saying "An hour and a half" to Ted, like he was setting a time limit on the search.  Perhaps something like:  "An hour and a half," I grumbled to Tornado after we finally found the tabby.  It's nothing major, but I felt the need to point it out.

 

And hey, Eel should be happy it wasn't a snake named Fluffy.  :winkgrin:

 

Overall, though, well done.  Still enjoying the heck out of it.

 

 

Mmm, yeah, in retrospect I can see how it might have been jarring. Sorry about that.  That's something I'll need to tend to if I get to an actual editing stage. 

 

I admit to being curious how folks feel about G.O.A.T. Evil organizations are a staple of the genre. And sometimes they're just twisted "Anarchy, that I run!" kind of 'logic' applies to them if you scratch their surface at all. My own thought is GOAT would bring folks together who might otherwise be tearing at each other's throats... with a "America is bad it should be punished" mentality in one faction, and a "America is wonderful, it needs to stay away from an evil world and better itself" in another... and so on. I am not slamming one party or the other, but rather some of the weird mental gymanstics fanatics of any stripe embrace.

 

Also, I was kind of tired of reptilian motifs for villain groups (Cobra, VIPER, Hydra, Kobra, etc ;) )

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