DasBroot

First few episodes of the Punisher.
 
Despite personally being lukewarm to the source material at best I am enjoying it.

If you cannot forgive old movies, probably best you avoid watching them, reading old books, talking to old people, reading history, and thinking about things you're unfamiliar with, uncomfortable with, or are new to you.  Maybe some bubble wrap to snuggle in.

BIH Charles Manson
 
It might be possible that someone in this world could shed a tear for the "loss" of this man. 
 
I'm not sure I'd care to meet that person.

Funnily enough Steppenwolf was used in an episode of Justice League Action - in the first episode I'd ever let my 4 year old son watch.
 
He teleported Superman to a red sun planet and started beating him up.  My son was watching between fingers: He asked 'is he going to die' at which point I said I was turning the channel - he's still too young and it was ok to be scared - to which he protested that he wasn't scared and took his hands down (for all of 10 seconds).  Afterwards he walked around the house doing a 'superhero' voice for an hour (and it was cute/hilarious listening to him speaking as deep and gruffly as he could (Batman was also in the episode)).
 
That's... basically my only knowledge of the character. But due to context I probably won't forget him now.
 
 

Little quibble here but it's unlikely any woman in your gym is at 5% or less (at least not if Serena Williams is the benchmark for 5%).  Or men - it is *incredibly* difficult to get to and maintain healthily (since it's close to the magic 3% number).
 
The women in those new costume photos, for example, are closer to 12%.  Which is as a percent or two lower than I was ever able to get 'naturally' (I was power-lifting, not bodybuilding, so it wasn't my main goal - dropping fat is just the easiest way to inflate your lift to body weight ego/boasting metric)
 
On the costumes themselves - yeah, Mad Max / Xena all the way. It doesn't look blockbuster - it looks 90s TV,

Actually it is something we agree on, unfortunately both sides have quite a few of their constituents who don't get what we are describing as gun control.  You'd be surprised but I can get on the automatic weapon bandwagon to some extent, perhaps to a large extent.  But, their does seem to be too many liberals of whom also seem to think gun control=no guns.  That is what gets some conservatives nervous. 
 

I made a 100% edible roasted Alien Facehugger out of chicken and crab - and have been told I'm not allowed to make it for Thanksgiving this year.

The people who are willing to notice it have already done so. Polls suggest that may be the majority of Americans. The remainder don't want to notice, or don't care.
 
I'm reminded of the quotation from Stuart Chase: "For those who believe, no proof is necessary. For those who don't believe, no proof is possible."

I'm still holding out for Giant Meteor, myself.

(More about Eel's relationship, he gets advice, I'm not sure its good advice, but it's what came out at the time)
 
 
 
The meeting broke up. Lady Obsidian had to hit the lab and continue her work. Pinprick, having shrunk Megahicken and then tussled with Dark Lord Charming was going to call his son and keep touch. I wasn't sure what Tornado and Valorosa were up to, but I was seriously considering asking the latter out for dinner.
I was starving. I hadn't realized how long it had been since I ate something.
 
I seriously considered having the chicken. Revenge would be had Extra Crispy this evening.
 
Maybe Ariana and I needed to talk, maybe I needed to let her talk, and listen for a bit. If Fox was right, I had been missing a lot, and she had a lot on her shoulders. I had thought I was the one thinking where this relationship would go. Turns out, Ariana was three steps ahead of me after all.
 
A part of me felt irritated that she hadn't talked to me about this. Telepathy is not one of my powers, and how I'm supposed to know without knowing, barring clairvoyance, was beyond me. On the flipside, mostly I felt- bad. There had been clues, and I had missed them. Fox had to point them out to me. Now that she had, a few of them felt obvious.
Maybe I really was a clueless dumbass?
 
Yeah, I decided dinner and me using my mouth only for eating while Ariana talked might be best. I went looking for her before I decided on drumsticks or wings. Ah, who was I kidding? I always went drumsticks.
 
I heard two voices, a rich confident masculine one, and the other, a delicate feminine voice I had grown to adore hearing in my ear in the morning, both with that touch of Mexican flavoring that made them almost musical, at least to these North Carolina ears.
 
Fortunately for me, it was in English.
 
"I just worry he's not going to change, never going to want more," Ariana said, "he doesn't seem to care for anything but-" words failed her.
"Except for saving the lives of strangers, and stopping bad people from doing bad things," Valentino returned, "And he's got a thing for protecting post offices."
"It's not fair putting it that way," She said in a tone of irritation that she was as annoyed with him having a point as she was with him taking up my side, "We already knew he was brave, selfless, and noble-"
 
And good looking, I wanted to add as I found myself pressing against a wall to avoid being seen if they came this way. Was I eavesdropping? Yes, yes, I was.
She continued, "-It's what drew me to him, it's why I feel the way I feel about him, but now? I want more, more  for him than he himself does, and," her voice caught in a way that made my heart ache, "maybe more for us. That's only reasonable, isn't it?"
 
"Let me understand this, he was everything you thought you wanted," Valentino said gently, "Now, you have decided that may not be enough. And somehow, he's not only supposed to realize this all on his own, he's supposed to change his priorities, his very life, like that? I'm not sure reasonable is the word I'd use. A man, even a good man, is a man, Ariana- not a set of clothing that can be touched or tailored. In your head, you know this. It's your heart that's confused. The only person who can change a person is that person. I'm sorry. Be honest with him, and hope, that's all you can do but don't get so excited about what might be you lose track of what good you've got."
 
"Lose track of it, Tino? Don't you see, if I weren't so happy with what I had, it wouldn't hurt so much to think on how I may end up having to walk away from it, from him. I'm scared and-" And then, the voices stopped.
 
I thought I heard a soft sob, and soft mutterings of reassurance.
 
And, I found I didn't have the courage to see what exactly what was going in that hallway, even if I had a very good idea.
I couldn't face that.
 
I wouldn't know what to say, and if she spurned my attempt to make it right, my putting a hand on her shoulder; her pushing both away?  I don't think I could have taken that.
I never felt more like a wuss than I did that moment as I walked away to hunt down a meal that I realized would now be a lot less satisfying.
For the first time in a long while, I felt a powerful need to take this damn mask off.
 
Aaron opened the door to our apartment with a buxom black clad chick on his arm. The busty woman with him had short hair with a ripple of colors not to be found in nature. Not that Aaron Mitzhim is typical himself. A Punk Rocker looking for the chance to sell out, so he could support family, Aaron has the mohawk, nose ring, and vulgar t shirt. Yet, he never fails to visit his grandmother at least once a week and make sure she's okay. He seemed to thrive on riling even his own fans, but I'd gotten to know him, and as alien as he was to this Southern Boy, I'd come to realize one thing about him.
 
Aaron Mitzhim is good people.
 
He was also a surprised person as his eyes fell on me on the couch. I was a classy sight in my sweat pants, Panthers tee shirt, and bare feet with my mouth tearing into an extra-crispy drumstick. Con-Air was playing on the TV, and quite deliberately so, as I'd put it in the DVD player. I really did use the apartment for sleep chiefly. If you discounted slumber, I was here infrequently at best.
 
"Oh, Sorry, Aaron, ma'am," I realized I sounded more country than usual. I guess my mind was so preoccupied that my accent was on maximum, "I can ah, go somewhere."
"Uhm, hey," The woman said, giving me an uncertain look, then Aaron an eager one. Yeah, he was gonna score tonight.
I started to rise, then Aaron surprised me. He turned to the girl and said, "Hey, ZJ, I'll catch you another night. We'll get it jumpin then." He said it with such confidence that I was a bit amazed. He really thought she'd just go along with that and score with her later at his convenience?
"Cool," she shrugged, kissed him, and slipped out.
 
My jaw nearly fell open at that, "How do musicians do it?"
 
"With style, my talentless friend," He flumped next to me, rather rudely snatched a wing from my bucket, and then said, "Who died?"
"You're lucky you didn't take a drumstick, buddy," I grumbled, then said, "How did you know I was down?"
 
"Oh please, just because you're rarely here doesn't mean I'm blind, man. You told me you were a private kind of guy, and that if I asked you no questions you'd tell me no lies. Cool by me. But I do notice things, and you only put Con Air in the player when you're depressed or really feeling down," He said.
 
"Hey, heroic southern boy undeservedly goes to jail, serves his time, saves the day, and gets a few good one liners out all so he can get back to family with honor. I'm telling you the film is an underappreciated masterpiece," I insisted, and perhaps not for the first time.
 
"Uh huh," Aaron tore into the meat and looked at me, "Now, back to the core subject. Who the hell rained on your parade? Did your favorite football team lose again?"
"Please, if you knew my father you'd know I've been used to cheering on bad teams and rolling with it," I grinned, but I could see he would keep pressing, "you know Ariana, right?"
"Hot sexy short spicy?" He answered, "yeah, you two are serious. She dump you, man?"
 
"No, but I'm worried she might," I confessed to him, "It, it's gotten more serious for her than I thought, and I feel the same way, but, I –"
"Whoa, wait, you two feel the same way about your relationship? I mean, both of you are getting thoughtful about where this might go, so it's scary because it could be so good?"
"Yeah," I said a bit annoyed he'd cut in. If he was going to have me confess he could at least let me explain, " I mean it could. It really could."
"Congratulations man," He grinned.
 
"Dude, I just told you she might dump me, because I'm not, well," How to explain this without talking about Eel? "I've got no direction, no ambition, nothing practical anyway, and she's worried if she lets it get any more serious she's going to watch me get hurt and get hurt herself. And hurting her is the last thing I want to do, but I- none of the regular stuff, the nine to five, the making big bucks, none of that appeals to me. I'm not called to that. I mean, I'm willing to do it, to make the rent-"
"Good news for me," He munched.
 
"-But," I continued confused at his chipper attitude, "They say you can only change because you want to change, because of what you want. You can't do it for other people."
"True, too true," He threw the wing bone away and started to reach for another one, "You have to have your own reason to want to change. You've got to have something a bit selfish involved or it's just a sham unfair to others as well as yourself."
 
Annoyed, I nevertheless tilted the bucket his way towards him, "So you see my problem, why are you looking so hunky dory about it?"
 
"Hunky Dory? God, people still say that in this century?" He shook his head and I couldn't help but noticed this time he'd snagged a drumstick. Oh, he was pushing his luck and didn't even know it, "I'm happy for you, man, because most people don’t' get that far. The fact you're afraid of losing what you got is proof that it's a blessing to have. And you even have something you want, just for yourself, selfish as get out."
 
"What's that?" I was almost sure we were speaking different languages right now.
 
"Ariana," He said, "You want Ariana. Not just to practice the infinite combination of the numbers six and nine in all their many sacred geometrical sets, but you want her maybe the big L-O-V-E. All this time, I pretty much guessed you were shacking up at her place instead of staying here. It's all in how you look at it. You can't change for her, but maybe for yourself to get her? That you might manage."
 
"That almost makes sense," I confessed after a moment, "But how do I know it's for me too and not just for her?"
"Don't tell her, try the change, and see how it goes. If it works for you, hey, you let her in on it, if not, then you learned something wasn't for you, that it didn't work for you, and no more chance of her leaving you than before," He bit down, "It's like the movie Grease. A lot of people whine about how Sandra Dee had to change herself to get Danny forget that Danny changed too. He went from Rebel to Jock. Now I'm sure a lot of folks will go "But ..she tramped it up", never mind that she was still, as far as we know,  a one man woman. Hell, she made up her mind it was him. I know a lot of girls who dress more conservatively but act a lot more trampishly than that in real life. So why did she change? Just to get his attention? Or maybe she was tired of being scared of her own sexual power. Maybe she liked the look and didn't care if she got judged as a 'bad girl' anymore. I'm sure I'm reading some wrong things into it. But the way I see it? The two of them both seem a lot happier with the changes. Even on their own, Sandra would have had guys lining up and had good friends to pal around with. Danny bragged about lettering. Maybe they did it to win each other, or even a meeting in the middle, but they also learned more about themselves. What you have here is a chance for self-discovery of who you, Caleb Lambert are. Why automatically assume it's a loss that this chance has opened up?"
 
The metaphorical dawning happened, and I admitted, "Aaron, you're a genius."
 
"Nah, I'm a musician. I've got like the power of hundreds of love songs, and just as many 'finding myself musical moments' to draw on," He waved it off, "So what now?"
"I am watching the rest of this movie," I told him, "Then, I have things to look into. A few of them actually for myself, and if I end up wowing my girl so much she squees, that's just gravy."
"Fine, we'll watch the redneck hero save the day," He leaned back and enjoyed the food, "But whoever you change into?"
"Yeah?" I looked at him curiously.
"Make sure he pays his rent at least until I can find a new roomie?" Aaron asked.
"Deal," I smiled "And, thanks." When the movie ended, with the folksy hero triumphant (as it always should be) I got up. There were things to look into.
Maybe I was going to do somethings for the wrong reasons before this was said and done, maybe I'd do it for the right and get it right, but since when was I the sort to quit before I began?
 

(Continued)
 
It turned out, others didn't agree. I'd gotten word to soak in the tub and heal up before coming to give my part of the report. I took a pretty quick one to be honest, my earlier plunge had already set the healing in motion.
 
"But I was the one who pushed to engage Firebug," I tried to explain for the third time. Somehow blame was not sticking, not just to me anyway and frankly, not much at all, "This is my fault."
 
I felt oddly possessive about that.
 
"Permission to slap this chauvinistic rookie silly?" Arctic Fox inquired of the team leader.
 
"I'll consider it," Lady Obsidian said. She was wearing her armor. Maybe she had put it on to come to our rescue but too late, or maybe she just thought it was smart to keep it handy with a team like Apocalyptic in town. She shot me a look, "I doubt very much, Eel, that you held a gun to Fox's head. She had seniority, and while aren't that rigid overall, Mabel would not have gone along with you if Fox hadn't agreed."
 
"Yeah, well, I-" I sighed "Okay, I just don't want to anyone else to suffer for my screw up." I shrugged.
 
"Our screw up," Fox said.
"All of our screw up," Mabel chimed in on a nearby speaker.
Lady Obsidian looked us over, then said "Well, it's very nice that you're all willing to share the plank as you bravely march off, but I do think I need to ask one more thing."
"Shoot," I said.
"Okay," Arctic Fox shrugged
"All ears, well, audio receptors," Mabel threw in.
 
"What screw up are you three talking about?" Lady Obsidian said, "Your inability to neutralize one of the toughest pyros around instantly? Or maybe it was a lack of omniscience, so you didn't know how far exactly any other members of Firebug's team would be? Or was it blowing up a vehicle safely over and away from the city rather than let a missile launch randomly due to the not quite fully understood power of a fellow who can jinx anything? Because really, I don't remember being the hard-ass you three seem to assume I should be that I would rip you a new one for any of that."
 
"Team is down a vehicle?" I said and shot a guilty look to Mabel then added, "And we had Firebug and lost her."
 
"He lost her trying to cover me from getting crushed," Fox countered, "So if anyone should be-"
 
"Oh, good lord," Lady Obsidian sighed, "What you are describing sounds like a combination of prioritization and team work. These are good things. Do you know how many villains I've defeated only to have them slip through my fingers and escape to plague the city another day over the decades?"
 
"Twenty-three different villains, forty-three different times," I spoke up, "if you count the Gray Ghost Gang anyway."
Lady Obsidian stared at me.
 
"I read your books," I reminded her, "Figured there might be some you wouldn't mention in them but overall, close?"
The stare continued.
 
"What?" I finally said.
 
"Oh, don't mind me, just ruminating on gifts brought out for show when they'd be better off put to work," The team matron sighed, "Yes, you're pretty close. But it was meant to be mostly rhetorical. The answer 'a lot' would suffice. The point, dear ones, is that the sometimes you can do everything right, and still lose.  You can do your best, and still lose. It's annoying, but it's part of life. Mistakes made? That's par for the course. The worry in our business is making sure no one died for our mistakes, our slips, or our best just not being good enough. No one did. The loss of a vehicle isn't cheap, but it isn't something we can't replace. The loss of one of you? I would have a problem with that. We don't have Firebug in custody, but surprise, surprise, we didn't have her in custody beforehand either."
 
I felt supremely sheepish when she put it that way. I suspected Arctic Fox and Mabel did too.
 
"Okay then," Arctic Fox said, "I have another question then," She tilted her head, "We called for backup. I actually expected someone on the way to us by the time Brute was lobbing a manhole cover at us, or even sooner."
 
I smiled at the memory of that part. Few would understand why. Though I was also curious as to the same.
 
"Tornado and Valorosa found a lead, and ended up in the tunnels under the city, which blocked their radio waves for a bit. Pinprick found an old sparring partner to fight, Dark Lord Charming," She admitted, "So he was a bit tied up. I was the one who left you high and dry, and I'm sorry about that. I'd hooked the frequency tests through my suit and by the time I got everything disengaged, it too late. So, you see, mistakes happened here too."
 
"Caleb," A voice said, and Valorosa rushed forward. Not to kiss me, but give a quick tactile appraisal along my face, and then shoulders, and then chest to check for wounds. When she noticed the blood on my back she gave it a glare as if I had been incredibly rude to have the nerve to bleed all over back there.
 
"Slice's work," I explained, "I healed most of it, and the burns from Firebug," I explained, feeling oddly pleased at all her fussing, unnecessary or not. She was slipping my gloves off to look at the burn marks along my hands and wrists. The soaking had already reduced them to first degree or just light welts. I was okay, but again that pleased feeling at her noticing me again.
 
And then I remembered what Fox had said and realized she hadn't been not noticing me. Far from it, she was thinking about me plenty, thinking about us. Maybe I owed her some thinking about us in return.
 
"I heard, why is Apocalyptic in Costa Sagrado you think?" She asked.
 
"I don't know, but we'll find out," I told her, "We are going to be on their asses twenty-four/seven from now on, at least I am and-"
 
"Ahem," Lady Obsidian was shaking her head, "I'll be happy to say they are priority number two, but our primary focus needs to be the Fumians. Bad as this villain team is, they don't have a reputation for destroying eco-systems or setting whole continents into a war zone of giant robots or the like. Fumians have been known to do that if left alone too long."
 
"Apocalyptic doesn't have that name because they're warm and fuzzy," I said stunned at her choice, "They're stone cold killers. Murder is their goal. The Fumians seem to have profit as their goal." I countered, "It seems to me we should stop the sure to murder over the 'might mess things up'. They've got to be in town for a reason. We need to find that reason and stop them."
 
The others had grown quiet. Ariana/Valorosa stayed by my side and looked tempted to say something, but didn't. Arctic Fox raised a brow. Tornado, for his part, had something of a wince on his face. Lady Obsidian herself? She took off her helm and stared at me for a moment, thinking it over.
 
"No," she finally said, "Eel, nothing is written in stone, but I need every one of us focused on the primary mission, and I need you on board as to what the primary mission is. If circumstances say we need to shift gears, then we switch, but right now, that's my call." There was a tone in that I recognized, it's the tone older women get sometimes get, at least those who have had a lifetime wielding authority they'd earned deftly and efficiently.
 
The only thing that was going to move her was her own choice to move.
But it was the wrong call.
 
I felt sure of that. I could only hope she would come to see that on her own. For now?
"Okay," I said, not bothering to hide my dislike of her call but not challenging it twice, "so what did we learn about the Fumians?" I glanced over at Ariana and Valentino, "you found a lead?"
 
Tornado smiled at that, "Oh yes, we lucked out a bit. Ugly murder scene," He continued more somberly, "But it was my niece here who noticed the treads on one set of foot prints which had stepped in the dirt and mud and… chicken poop, was different, and preceded the blood and such that came after."
 
Ariana was blushing, "I feel a bit silly but uhm, I know some things about shoes, even men's shoes, and the pattern was really off. I thought maybe they could be alien so, I suggested we track those and, well, they lead to an alley which lead to a tunnel. We soon lost them, but found another clue. But that was Valentino who noticed that."
 
"I love a good shoe story as much as the next gal," Arctic Fox said impatiently, "But can we cut to the chase and speed it up a bit? I promise to read the full report right before bedtime."
"The Fumians are in the tunnels, not just using them, but they're in there somewhere," Tornado explained, "Hinges and gates have been un-rusted, corrosion is reversed. And the parts hooked up to the sewers and sewage? It doesn't stink."
"I beg your pardon?" I blinked, "You're literally saying the city's number two smells like-" I searched for a word.
"Odorless," Tornado grinned, "The spoiled guys are using the tunnels to travel and trade from because it's handy, but they're not willing to suck up the scent of poo gas like we savages have to."
 
I broke out laughing at that and others joined in chortling.
"Is the water just odorless, or clean?" Lady Obsidian asked, "Truly clean, and is it safe?"
"Kind of what we're hoping on you to determine," Ariana says, "You see, we brought back a sample vial or three, each from different parts.  We didn't find them again, but figured if we could find the boundaries of where they 'cleaned up' that would give us the ability to, well, triangulate probably isn't the right word but-" she shrugged blushing
"But we can use it to figure out where the hell their main base operations might lay," Lady Obsidian nodded, "Between this and the frequency work, I have my hands full but if it turns out that water is clean and safe, we have an edge to use."
 
"What edge?" I asked curiously.
 
"You," She beamed.
"You want me swimming through sewers?" I wrinkled my nose, probably sounding snootier than I intended.
"Well, I can't do it. You see in pitch black darkness, you breathe water, and swim gracefully and with incredible rapidity – If not you, who better suited, Eel?" Lady Obsidian presented it all in an annoyingly logical fashion.
 
"Why couldn't I have been one of those flying types?" I sighed.
 
"Clearly, God just doesn't love you as much as he does certain others," Tornado, the only 'natural flier' in the group looked up in mock piousness even as his feet lifted from the floor by six inches.
"I think I hate this plan," I said with a sour look.
"Cheer up," Lady Obsidian informed me, "maybe we'll learn is that it's nice smelling, but incredibly toxic just to you, and you'll get off duty."
"Now I feel petty," I grumbled.
"Trust your gut there," She rose "Here is what we're going to do. I –" she looked about "Pinprick isn't back yet? I kind of would like the whole team here rather than repeating everything twice over."
 
As if on cue, Pinprick walked in. He had lost his hat, and smelled of pepper spray. The little guy looked like he had been besieged a mob.
It turned out that wasn't far off, "Dark Lord Charming. Thought I had him. Stinking bastard managed to stumble into a convention center for a meeting of teachers. What to guess what gender dominates the pre-college teaching jobs?"
I raised a brow.
 
"Women," Tornado said with a shrug.
"Women," Pinprick said as if no one had guessed, "A convention with maybe twenty-five guys, and almost two hundred and fifty women of all ages. Guess who Dark Lord Charming 'charms', so they fall almost instantly in love with him upon first sight?"
"Women!" Tornado chimed not bothering to hide some amusement.
"Women!" Pinprick snorted, "Big women, little women, blondes, brunettes, and redheads all charging me, screaming 'leave him alone, you monster!' or 'No! He can change!'. You ever get swarmed by five love struck gingers determined to save their 'one true love' all at the same time? I swear to God, the color Auburn is going to haunt my dreams for weeks."
 
"You're making me want to dye my hair again," Arctic Fox said mercilessly.
"He, he does that?" Valorosa looked more chilled than amused.
"Yeah, he used to be a regular Prince Charming, but then he became evil. Stayed Charming, the jerk, and yeah, he heart-whammies women, wish that was all he did," Pinprick scowled fiercely at the thought, "Anyway, he got away."
"A lot on our plate all at once," Lady Obsidian frowned, "Obviously ladies, we should let the fellows handle Dark Lord Charming. I don't much care for that, but there you have it. Now, let's fill Pinprick in again."
 
Pinprick responded to my story grimly, no jokes, no pokes, no jibes at my expense: That worried me. When the jerk, albeit the lovable type of jerk, of the team refuses to bust your chops, things have gotten serious indeed. The news of the plan of sending me to the sewers didn't even get the snicker I expected.
 
"Sounds like you'll be patrolling alone there, but if anyone can handle it, it's you, Fish Guy. You're good under pressure," He said as he mused it over.
"I'm sorry, did you just compli-" I was not sure I heard that right.
 
"I said don't screw this up and don't come crying to me because I'll have my own job to do, jackwagon," Pinprick declared.
I smiled, "Sure thing, jerkwad."
"Good," He snorted, "I don't have time to train another meat headed strong man on how we operate."
"And I'm supposed to protect the innocent, so I'll try to spare him your 'world's tiniest drill sergeant' act, by staying alive and keeping him from getting recruited," I actually felt my mood lightening.
"Ugh," Arctic Fox sniffed, "Male bonding attempts give me hives."
"I think it's cute," Ariana beamed.
 
"It is not cute," Pinprick, Tornado, and I all insisted at the same time.
 
And laughter broke out from Lady Obsidian at that, and with the matriarch of the team doing that, well, the other two women broke out openly as well.
 
The fairer sex can be very cruel to fragile male egos.
 

(Guess who is in town? Eel might hold a grudge)
 
 
 
I blinked at her for a bit, "Look, all I just want to have- I mean, I'm a good guy. It's just, yeah, being Eel is my calling. Everything else seems superfluous."
 
"Well, you may want to reconsider that stance," Arctic Fox told me, "Because Ariana is part of that 'everything else' now."
"yeah, I-" Then I noticed something in the dim.
There in the night sky, there was a trail of lame, it started at an almost bluish point, then trailed backwards until it finally 'cooled' to yellow and red. One hardly needed night vision to see it, but against my senses that distant light looked even brighter.
 
And I felt a cold sweat coming on, "Firebug," I said with a grim certainty, "it's her. It's Firebug."
 
"What?" Arctic Fox said baffled, "What are you talking about, the dot in the distance? Yes, it could be a super, but how could you possibly be sure it's Firebug?  You have the ability to see in the dark but it's not telescopic" She said, "And from this distance."
 
"I know it's her," I said, "I'm sure of it."
 
She wasn't swayed, "Rookie, speaking as a lady who deals in the other extreme, firepowers are some of the most common form of 'pew pew' powers there are among heroes and villains alike. It may not be her."
 
"Then let's find out," I set my jaw and directed the flying car to give pursuit. In a nutshell? I put the pedal to the metal and gave chase, with Arctic Fox along for the ride complaining in my ear.
"Look, even if, if this is the same group that hurt you so badly before you came here, yes I read the reports, that's all the more reason not to leap into this! Apocalyptic is consistently ranked in the top five most dangerous supervillain teams in North America, some would say the world. This not 'go time' this is 'go tell the team' time."
"So go tell the team, we can do both," I said, "But we need to find out it's her, that they're in town. Otherwise we can't really be prepared, and when one of them is alone, it's the best way to go. See, I'm not just being a hothead about this, I'm thinking logically and gathering intel," I pointed out, then added, "This thing has a missile in in it right?"
 
"Yeah just one for emergency meteor busting and-" Arctic Fox started to explain and then caught herself "HEY! Duke Boy, reign it in!"
"Spoilsport" I said with a sigh but kept gaining.
 
And yes, Arctic Fox was calling in on the com, "Mabel, you might want to let folks know Fish Guy thinks he's spotted Firebug of Apocalyptic and, of course, he's closing in on her trying to get us both killed. Get what data you can on the team, inform the others in case we don't respond back in five… make that three minutes."
"You're kidding, right?" Mabel said, then paused, "You're not kidding. I'll let the others know and remember, firefighting foam has been installed, but I doubt it could handle someone of Firebug's intensity."
"We have foam?" I grinned, "Hey, thanks, Mabel. You're the best!"
 
"Yeah," Arctic Fox said through gritted teeth, "You're the best."
Whatever Fox might be thinking of this plan, I wasn't being completely brainless. We'd informed the team, I had even engaged the cloaking device, though that could be a power drain if kept up for too long.
 
And we were gaining on Firebug.
 
It was her. There was no mistaking. One does not get tortured by a group of people for what felt like hours without remembering a few things about them. Her costume hadn't changed, still on the skimpy side. It wasn't like most men could touch her without experiencing third degree burns. The flickers of blue flame along mostly bare skin made me wince at the recollection of burn marks that had long since healed.
The hovercar started to heat up just from getting too close.  We were miles up, and it should have been as cool as a cucumber, instead the temperature was like an Arizona sidewalk run, and we hadn't even closed the final twenty feet.
 
"It's her," I said to Arctic Fox, "We can take her. We've got the element of surprise, and she's a mass murderer wanted for more crimes than I can list," She looked uncertain, so I added, "We're talking about a woman who once burned down a hospital to get a target. The whole hospital, just to get at one guy. Can we afford to let her get away?"
 
"Fine, let's take her in," Arctic Fox nodded.
 
I nodded black, and flicked the switch for the meteor buster missile.
"Wait, that's not what I meant-" but before Arctic Fox could even reach for it, the switch turned back.
"The hell?" I said, "She's tough, her fire fields are up, she'll probably handle it okay" I clicked it on again.
And again, it flicked off.
 
"What the," I groaned as realization sunk in, "Mabel? Check the statistics, she would probably handle better than you think."
"Honey I don't care if the only thing it does to her is give her gas, you are not launching a missile meant to break apart meteors in the stratosphere or higher over down town with crowded skyscrapers and more about that will surely get hit if she somehow avoids it," Mabel said in a very firm no nonsense tone.
"How about the foam? Can I count on the foam?" I wheedled.
"Fine, though at the temperatures she hits, I doubt it will help much," Mabel would have rolled her eyes if she had biological ones that could be rolled. But the good news I had the two ladies along for the ride in more ways than one.
 
"Fox, can you catch her attention? She's going to notice us soon anyway," I said sure of that much. Indeed, Firebug was already looking around. Maybe she could sense the thermals shift somehow, maybe her heat was distorting the cloaking attempts.
 
Maybe I'd been talking too damn much.
 
She looked up, and that's when Arctic Fox let loose a stream of cold and ice square in the face. It would have killed anyone else, but Arctic Fox did her homework, and had more experience than most folks give her credit for. As much as we had reason to distrust certain government agencies, the data they collected on villains often gave us the edge in knowing when and where to cut loose.
 
Much to my vindictive delight in this case.
 
It was roughly thirty-five feet from where Firebug had been flying, to the dense concrete below.  She smashed into the latter like the sputtering remnant of a roman candle. Her flames dimmed, from the combination of the icy assault and impact. They'd flare up soon if Firebug got the chance.
 
I sure as hell didn't intend to give her the time.
 
"Mabel, a little coating please," I requested, and sure enough, flame retardant foam sprayed over me like an overloaded can of shaving cream. I probably looked ridiculous, but it should let me get at least one good punch in.
 
If I got lucky, one punch might be all I needed.
I dropped down ready to demonstrate a three-point landing all over that psycho's face. Her flames were yellow and red instead of the deadlier blue, and while I could feel the heat, I could take it.
"Whoo hoo!" I yelled, convinced this was going to hurt her a lot more than it hurt me. Let her blast, I'd hurt badly, but I regenerated, she didn't. I bet I could take even flame more than she could.
Firebug's eyes widened and that's when she decided to cheat.
She rolled to the side even as my fist planted itself seven inches deep into the spot where her head had been. The shrapnel resulting from that bounced and burned against that fiery aura that surrounded her always.
 
"Hi, remember me?" I narrowed my eyes as I pulled my hand out of the ground. I wanted her focus on me, not Arctic Fox or even the car.
 
I got my wish.
 
"Yeah, I remember you. North Carolina, right?  You screamed like a #####" Firebug raised her hands and sent a hastily wave of flame crashing into my right side. Well, that would normally be enough to send me screaming.
I'm superhumanly tough, which makes sense as I am a superhuman, and I am tough. But while I don’t faint at the sight of green rocks, I don't take flame nearly as well as I do punches, electrical surges, gravity bolts, acid sprays, and, you know? In retrospect I've been hit with a lot of stuff in a very short time. 
Maybe I should work on my social skills?
 
But that quick shower with the fire-resistant foam took what would send me into a world of pain and reduced it to a rather nasty sting. The layer on my right side bubbled, swelled and dried but it took half of the heat damage for me, or at least muted it.
I could take it this time.
 
Also, I had help.
 
Arctic Fox had created a ramp of ice to disembark the vehicle and was bringing more winter fury onto the scene blasting from an overhead angle. I realized what she was doing, she was trying to prevent little miss Firebug from taking flight again.
 
I had to approve. It was also keeping those normally blue flames down to a level I might be able to manage. I closed with Firebug, not particularly worried about getting hit with the cold myself. That was one temperature extreme I could handle easily. I could swim in the North Sea in December and call it a vacation. I was not exactly phased here.
"You're overmatched, Fox!" Firebug warned, "Ask the redneck here. I got enough fire to burn you both to ash!" a ring of heat and fire exploded outward knocking Arctic Fox on her ass and making me gasp as the right side of me cooked more now that that first layer was dissolved. I still had some protection on my left though and I didn't knock over easily for anyone.
 
And Fox wasn't the kind of woman to be out meaned by anyone, she sneered, "Oh save it, split ends, I've heard about how you operate. Hospitals? What, are you scared of needles? A whole team on one guy? Do you need Mr. Brute to hold your hand when you go tinkle too? Or do you get to use the women's room all on your own?"
A burst of cold and ice flew past Firebug, wide spray, but what got the flame-spewer was pretty minor comparatively.
I grinned as I took the brunt of the ice packing. In someone else, this could lead to frostbite. Not me.
 
"Your aim sucks," Firebug gloated and started to rise up, her normal rocketing speed slowed down by the wet and cold all about her.
"But my team work is aces," Arctic Fox grinned, "Oh, and I wasn't aiming for you."
 
I leaped up and snagged an ice coated hand around Firebug's right leg and squeezed until I heard something under the skin break.
Firebug screamed, and I responded by redirecting her towards the ground where she hit the hard ground all over again.
Was I burned? Yes. But I'd been burned worse, and Fox kept a continuing stream of cold and ice pouring on me to minimize the damage. Heck, she kept tracking me even as I plummeted down elbow out to slam against the flaming buffer that Firebug relied upon for defense.
The normally blue flames weren't looking so hot; comparatively speaking.
 
I could have killed her, I could have crushed a skull, shattered ribs, and had the fracturing bones lance her internal organs.
But heroes don't kill unless it's the only way to save an innocent and even then, we try to find a way. God help me, I was tempted. How many lives would be saved with a psycho with this level of power taken out of the picture.
 
Then I thought about another psycho, Bloodwatch. Bloodwatch was a vigilante in the most vicious and unrestrained sense of the word. Teenagers in streetgangs, car thieves, heck, purse snatches; he would gun any one of them down. One I set a bar, no matter how high, making it acceptable to kill a villain in the name of what they might do, or in her case do again, it would open the gates for a slippery slope I did not trust myself to navigate.
NO way was I becoming like Bloodwatch.
 
So instead my elbow got badly burned, but rather than severing her in half, I just took the wind right out of Firebug's gut. Oh, she'd sport a nasty bruise as well. Foam burst from the flying car again, Mabel turning it outward rather than in the vehicle.
 
And still the snow and ice from Arctic Fox kept a coming. Firebug's flames were no longer white or blue, indeed, the yellow bled out, and only red flickers remained at all.
"Give up!" I shouted at the pyromaniac.
 
"They're here," She said in a punch drunk sing song sort of wheeze.
 
Realization hit me like a bomb. I put Firebug under into the realm of unconsciousness with a quick strike, and told Arctic Fox "We need to get her and go, the others are coming, and," My back ripped open as blades carved into it, spraying blood all over the newly moistened ground that the mix of ice and dueling heat had created.
Slice was here!
 
And the rest of Apocalyptic wouldn't be far behind.
 
"I'll be wanting my associate returned," came a voice popping with authority. It was a voice that had haunted my nightmares for weeks after I'd first heard it. Mr. Brute was stronger than me, tougher than me, and yes, he was a better fighter. One on one I couldn't take him.
 
"You can look up visiting hours in the tank," I seethed, "talk through a plane of glass. Ask her if she's made new friends."
His mask was phantom of the opera like, allowing his expression to show through. It wasn't an amused expression, "you really should watch your back more," A warning.
"That’s why I have friends," I commented as Slice found herself slipping on the patch of ice that Arctic Fox had created, it was the first time I'd gotten a good look at the normal blurring individual, "I watch their back, they watch mine."
 
"Do they? I see two of you, three if you count the car. And even with one down," Mr. Brute smiles, "I have numbers, I have the edge. And, most importantly, I have a probability manipulator who is very angry about you knocking his sister on her ass."
 
"She's had worse, but you know, family pride and all," Dice said. The probability manipulator's eyes glowed. I braced,  only to find neither I nor Arctic Fox was the target.
"Tiger? Foxy?" I had heard Mabel's voice in playful flirtatious banter when there wasn't a job to do quite often. When a job was going, she was often easy going still but professional. This was the first time in a while I could recall her sounding scared, "The missile is active. I can't turn it off. It's going to launch, and I think after that it's going to blow."
 
During this, the villains were not motionless by any stretch of the imagination. Slice got to her feet, cursed, and turned into a blur again once more this time trying to shred Arctic Fox to prevent another frictionless encounter no doubt.
 
"Fox, Weasel!" I hoped I had gotten the combat code right. Still holding the out cold Firebug in my grip, I slammed my foot down hard creating a shockwave that threw both Arctic Fox and Slice into the air. Arctic Fox was ready for it thanks to the rushed combat code that I had, it seemed, gotten right after all.
"Drop Firebug, and help me get this car out of here before it launches the missile!" Arctic Fox said as she took to the ramp she had just created to get altitude.
"But we can still capture at least one of them, if you just freeze-" I started to argue. We had one of them! One of the most murderous villains in modern times and I had her right in my hands. We could reduce their numbers. We could-
Mister Brute shattered the ramp sending Fox falling down into what would surely be a bone shattering grip.
I jumped and caught her before he could, which meant, of course, I had to drop Firebug. Our landing was onto the vehicle, "Mabel, fly it up!" I said through gritting my teeth with fury. I had one of Apocalyptic in my hands, and had let her go.
"Thanks for the save," Arctic Fox said, "Let me return it. No peeking."
 
I covered my eyes. What I wasn’t' seeing would be her snowblind effect. Just like it sounded, photokeratitus can damage the retinas. Unlike the usual type, Arctic Fox could make it happen near instantly. Lady Obsidian tried to explain the science of how just once, but I'll be honest, after the first minute I think my eyes started to glaze and for a completely different reason. I mean, I fancy myself a bright boy, but sometimes Lady Obsidian forgets not all of us have multiple science PHDs.
 
"Safe now, don't think it worked on Mr. Brute, is that going to be a problem?" Arctic Fox called out.
 
"Mister Brute is always a problem," I cursed, "Damn it damn it damn it, I had her! They were one member down. Now they'll be at full strength again."
 
"Hey, Tiger, got an idea how to keep the missile from launching? Because I can't!" Mabel sounded in a panic. Of course, she was supposed to be in control of everything in the vehicle. Instead, she was helpless to prevent a meteor busting missile from launching in the very area.
"How much time left before it launches?" I asked keeping my gaze on the villains below. It was a good thing I did. Mister Brute had grabbed a man hole cover from the road, and hurled it like a frisbee from hell. Well, that stirred a memory.
I gauged, bent down, and caught it before it could smash into the vehicle where it was no doubt meant to bring us down. With a grunt I hurled it back at his face as quickly as I could.
Mister Brute's hand came up, but gravity was with me and caused it to pick up speed and altered the arc to boot. It skipped between the crevice of his fingers and flattened against his face molding to his head.
"Twenty-Six seconds," Mabel was saying, but my eyes were on Mister Brute.
Mister Brute looked impressed, inclined his head slightly, and tipped his hat in a salute of sorts.
The Salute I gave back to my once torturer wasn't nearly as gentlemanly. I know I'm supposed to be a role model kids, but I'll confess said salute involved one finger.
"If you're done with the measuring, I've sealed the missile up so it won't launch and Mabel has this on heading straight up so it explodes harmlessly over the ocean! Jump!" Fox commanded and jumped.
"Damn, I loved this car," and I jumped too.
Ahead of me, the most beautiful intricate glider I'd ever seen, one crafted from delicate crystalline ice that was constantly replenished, soared through the very warm winds that both uplifting and devouring them drip by drip.
I took the old-fashioned way down, I slowed my fall as much one could by spreading my arms and legs. Behind me there was an explosion as meteor buster missile went off inside of the hovercar.
 
"Mabel, are you okay? Mabel?" it was a silly thing to say. Mabel wasn't part of the car, it was something she operated remotely.  She had to be okay, but still, "Mabel?"
 
"What?" Mabel said waspishly.
 
"I was just asking if you were okay?" I said startled at her ire.
 
"I am not okay. I lost control of a system and was helpless to take it back. And you? You just cost me my going out of town clothes. Dammit, Eel, if the team isn't in the base I can't help them anymore, not directly," Sometimes it was easy to forget that Mabel wasn't just intelligent, artificially or otherwise, she was also emotionally aware. She knew laughter, sadness, fondness, and frustration. And my actions had been partially responsible for her loss. Then she added, "And we couldn't even hold onto the one member we did have. They used me to-"
 
"They used a missile, maybe you couldn't stop it, but neither could we," I reminded, "And, I'm sorry. I thought we had her too." The water came rushing up on me, and I arced into a diving position and plunged where the radio waves could not reach.
 
I was pretty sure Mabel wasn't the only one who was going to angry at how things turned out, and as this was all on me, I was pretty sure the others were going to be mad at me too. Lord knows, I was angry with myself.
 It was on me.
 

WRT gun control, I support three things:
1. Keeping guns out of the hands of people who really shouldn't have them--criminals, domestic abusers and people who have been previously found to be a threat to themselves or others
2. Doing any research necessary to determine the best ways to achieve #1
3. If a side finding of the research is that certain weapons or weapon accessories are particularly more likely to impose a greater cost on society than the benefit they might provide, imposing appropriate restrictions on those
 
It may be the case that no specific restrictions on categories or types of weapons are necessary to achieve the primary goal.  

Lord Liaden, thanks for trying to keep things civil and not intending to offend.
 
 
I don't understand how you can have trouble seeing that a fun, friendly sporting activity where everyone goes home with all their parts intact is very different from deliberately killing people. It's always possible that we're having a massive failure of communication here and not talking about the same things. However, it's hard for me to avoid interpreting statements like that in an uncharitable light. What am I missing here?

I really like the superhero theme of 'Is there a man under the mask - and if so, which is the man, which is the mask?' - it's one I commonly use in my characters - and I'm glad to see you take it on, whether you expected to or not.
 
(A disproportionate number of aforementioned characters are basically super powered bums due to how they've answered the question. It's a trap, Eel!)
 
If I had one reservation about its implementation here it's that I would have preferred that the 'mean girl of justice' mainly started the conversation 'She's falling for you and she's worried because - unless you sell out like that Hollywood tool - being the Eel isn't a career, idiot.' and got him really thinking about it on his own from there with most of her points afterwards being self-awareness.  
 
I'm sure that he will be thinking about it  ... but I feel that he dug in his heels against the very notion and was preached to a touch too heavily in this update.  He's defiant, often to the point of stubbornness  - it's one of his dominant traits in my opinion  - but he hasn't often been truly boneheaded.  
 
 

Thank you. I'm not taking our discussion as anything other than a casual brain storming session, so perhaps that's a bit spiral-inducing, but sometimes it helps to examine an issue from all sides.
 
 
 
Let's pause here for clarification, because I think we're talking past each other. There are two issues that have been discussed:
 
1. Basic responsibility. That covers safe operation, understanding of when to use or not use the tool, how to store it and prevent unauthorized access, how not to endanger others when using it, etc. IOW, training.
 
2. Criminal activity. When I'm talking about educational activities, the only kind of criminal activity that those might curtail is inappropriate  defensive use of force. Mass shootings and murders aren't really going to be curtailed by training.
 
 
It's not an attitude towards guns that needs to change. The gun isn't seducing people into killing people. The problem of criminal gun use is not analogous to the smoking problem or the drunk driving problem because there is a HUGE difference in intent.
 
Think about this: When's the last time you think a smoker lit up a cigarette with the intention of getting cancer or causing bystanders health problems from secondary smoke? They don't. There's no ill intent, just a desire to feed a personal addiction, to seek relief from stress, or whatever other reason people smoke. Awareness campaigns work because people are not good about weighing long term consequences versus immediate gratification. That same problem factors into drunk driving.
 
Your theory is flawed because you don't account for intent.
 
I'm not responsible for someone else's intent.
 
As a society, we can influence intent. There have been programs proven to work to curb gang violence, for example, that were posted by me or someone else on the boards a few years back.
 
If you want to look at gun violence as a whole you need to look at motives, then do what you can to remove them.
 
 
So, you're saying that your apples taste better than our oranges?
 
I think American attitudes toward individualism and rebelliousness are definitely part of our national identity, and that a lot of us take those attitudes a bit too far to say the least.
 
IMO, the firearms debate is a symptom of that. But it's just one of many issues that it's easy to get Americans riled up about. The key problem is we're easy to get riled up.
 
 

Edited by me, because I posted on the 100% emotion I said I detested.
 
Let's just say, the reason for it is being accused of being evil because I am conservatives is a sensitive nerve of mine.
 

(Continued)
The others were staring at us, six-inch-tall Pinprick's tiny face had a huge smirk on it, Tornado just had a cheese eating grin he wasn't even trying to hide either. Arctic Fox had a look more like the one you give to that weird kid who keeps making strange stuff out of glue when he takes a seat at class.
 
I sighed, "All right, the rest of you get it out of your system."
 
"What the hell went through your mind," Tornado broke into laughter, "When you first saw that thing?"
"Mostly why does this weird B.S. keep happening to me? " I answered honestly.
 
"Why does this weird B.S. keep happening to you?" Arctic Fox inquired, "Seriously, we talk to aliens, but oh no, that's too mundane for Eel. You have to get tangling with a chickenasaur"
 
"I was going to call it Megachicken, actually, and I don't know," I shrugged, "Clean living? God loves me extra special? I was born lucky but I'm not sure what kind of luck?"
"Are you going to want to eat chicken more than before, or is it ruined for you forever?" Pinprick had to ask.
 
"Actually," I paused and had to think about it, and then answered, "I think I'll be chowing down on chickens a lot more for at least a week? I guess it's kind of petty and vengeful, but that nasty bird gave me quite the scratch and I didn't like it," I nodded, "He wounded my leg. Blood for blood, drumstick for drumstick, by Krom."
"What do you see in him again?" Arctic Fox looked at Ariana, "It can't be his promising career in standup."
"Speaking of careers, I did have to quit," I said, "No Meaty Minstrel for me after the way I bailed."
 
"Isn't that like your third job in a month?" Ariana asked, suddenly looking serious, "Meaty Minstrel, that delivery job, and the that job at the scrap yard?"
 
"Technically that was a month and a week? Why?" I asked confused.
 
"No, no reason" Ariana said but she looked a bit more distant now, "it's fine. Just fine." I was going to follow that up but then she asked the others "So what's the news on the alien side? Trouble?"
"You might say that," Lady Obsidian said, "The Hyadesians say Earth is coming under the attention of less enlightened but still powerful beings. Some tend to be more traditional in their conquest."
 
"Not that traditional is good when it means whole cities could be vaporized," Pinprick muttered.
 
"True," Lady Obsidian agreed before going on, "The ones they really warned us about are the Fumians. They're more subtle than some," She sighs.
"Shapeshifters that take over our government?" I guessed. I know it's lame of me, but I was curious.
"What, and improve the city's efficiency?" Pinprick smiled, "No, these guys are a real threat. Their Method of operation is far more insidious."
 
"Well, don’t' keep us hanging," Ariana threw her hands up, "What do these Fumians do that makes them such a dire threat to the whole planet?"
 
"They sell people what they want," Tornado explained
 
Okay, I'm not sure that explained anything, at least not to me; not at first mention, "So?" I shrugged, "They're operating a business without a permit? This is a threat?"
 
Arctic Fox rolled her eyes, "Rookie, come on. I don't expect you to know the story of Faust, but maybe you've read Needful things? At least heard of the proverbial deal with the devil?"
 
"They're centuries ahead over most Earth," Dr. Vernon explained, "Even in the superhero community what they can do might appear like magic."
 
"And since all of us have seen magic," Pinprick went on, "That's saying something."
 
"Oh," it began to sink in. I began to think of what aliens with technology could offer earthlings. What if you wanted something to finally shut up that obnoxious neighbor's entertainment system that he played way too loud every night?  Maybe you wanted a shorter commute time? Everyone wants flying cars, but how many people would know how to handle them? "So, it's a buyer beware kind of situation?"
 
"Precisely," Lady Obsidian elaborated, "And human money is only one form of payment. They take goods and or services that can have you ending up being a slave on some far away planet in the name of debt repayment. The Fumians are a menace, and they're all the more dangerous because they appeal to what's worst in any population."
 
"How do we even stop that?" Ariana asked the very question I was thinking  myself, "I mean, if they lay low and give folks what they want for whatever price…"
 
"The same way we track down drug dealers and the like if we have to," Tornado explained, "We look for the symptoms, and then track the cause. When they cause trouble, we find the humans that dealt with them and see how they got in contact. This is going to take some detective work, some patience, and, " He gritted his teeth, "It may end up with some people hurt that we wish we could have protected."
 
"It bites, but it's how it is," Pinprick nodded, "Buuuuutt," He stretched it out to get our attention, "We might uncover something in our patrols. Maybe one of us will get a chance to find a deal in progress before it can be concluded? It's a long shot, but we're superheroes. Beating the odds is what we do."
 
There were some smiles. I know we superheroes are prone to a lot of 'lets go  get em' and 'the power of team work' 'arroo' kind of stuff, but you need that. You need to believe you can do the impossible because in this life, being asked to do the impossible will happen. And you're probably going to  be one of the few that can actually try to pull it off.
 
Hope for the best, prepare for the worst, saving the living, bring justice for the dead and shed tears into your beer mugs when you get a chance to breathe. Then start it all over again. That's how you get by in this business, at least, in theory. Some guys never do. I've heard stories of superheroes who saved hundreds, lost a dozen and could never get over the dozen lost. I'm not sure I could either. I've been lucky.
 
My dad used to say that how you dealt with your victories that proved if you could be a gentleman. It was how you dealt your losses that proved you could be a man.
 
Dad cheers for a lot of losing sports teams.
"So, what do these Fumians look like?" I asked.
"Anything they want, technically" Lady Obsidian answered, "Thanks to holographic technology they can look like your standard run of the mill native born Earthman or Earthwoman, they can blend in, make a deal, shift appearances again and lose you."
 
"So, they are shapeshifters" I said, "Kind of. Well, that difficulty level just got trickier."
 
"Actually," Our team leader continued, "that's where the Hyadesians did us a solid. They gave us the frequency range of the holo-emitters. I can work with that," she steepled her fingers, "I can do a lot with that."
 
"Now, Vivian, tilt your head and laugh manically, mwhahaha, embrace your inner mad scientist!" Tornado exulted.
 
We all stared at him.
 
"Fine, let the evil scientists have all the fun," Tornado sulked.
 
"So embarrassing," Ariana sighed. While they were close in age, Valentino was her uncle, and no one can make you sigh like family. To many in the city, Tornado is a swashbuckling super fast flying marital artist who men wanted to be, and women wanted to be with. To Ariana, besides her own father, he was the second greatest source of 'dad jokes'.
 
And, of course, either one would die for the other. Which was a potential problem. Ariana was Valorosa now. She would be fighting by our sides, endangering her life right in front of us. Superheroes protect their team mates, but priority is innocents first, and team mates after. Would Tornado be able to remember that rule for his own niece? I had to wonder.
Finally, Lady Obsidian did chuckle, "Well, I do have one or two plans that might allow me to get my mad scientist on, but I'll hold it in reserve. The good news is I should be able to at least hook the team up with scanners of a sort that will let us see through their illusions so identify them. Odds are better than they're expecting. Now, their actual appearance is rather fishlike-"
 
"Oh, come on!" I blurted before I thought about it, then looked sheepish "Sorry, but we didn't we just do the underwater races attack bit?"
"Relax, hos," Pinprick smirked, "They're air breathers, just their scales are more like fish scales than reptile scales."
"I was going to say 'in some ways'" Lady Obsidian nodded, "if I may continue?"
 
"Sorry," I said sheepishly.
 
"Fishlike in some ways, but they are airbreathers, and have some reptilian aspects as well such as a literal forked tongue but very human eyes. They're also shorter than the average Earthlings-"
 
"Nothing wrong with that," Pinprick shot a challenging look to the rest of us just to try to say something.
"-and not really that strong, though they have gear that can more than compensate," Lady Obsidian finished, "They tend to place profit above all else and yes, they boast about their culture all the time."
 
"Like Americans on Steroids, man" Valentino shook his head.
"Valentino," I pointed out, "You're an American too."
"And I got an ego the size of Texas so, at least half right," he countered.
 
None of us could argue with that.
 
"Mabel," Dr. Vernon inquired, "Any reports from the authorities about the giant Chicken? Megachicken? Whatever we're calling it?"
 
"They found where the rampage began, at a property used for illegal cock fighting" Mabel answered promptly.
 
"No wonder that thing was so mean," I realized, almost feeling sorry for the dumb bird, "It was bred and raised to be. Was anyone hurt?"
"Yes, one of the men at the property was killed, another is in intensive care," Mabel said adding, "Sorry, sweet things."
I winced. I knew, logically, that I couldn't save lives where I wasn't there to save them. I knew that there was a certain dark irony, maybe even a twisted form of karma, in a man who did such a thing to animals becoming prey to one. But, a guy died. Another might yet. And I wished that wasn't the case.
Ariana was also wincing.
"Well, our condolences to the loved ones of the lost and wounded," Lady Obsidian just summed it up quickly then said, "Anything else regarding how it got so large, or the authorities, local and federal, are dealing with it?"
 
"Federal wants to cart it off in a few weeks to study, Local , well," Mabel says, "They have a request for Pinprick to come by and-"
 
"Shrink it down to regular chicken size or smaller again," Pinprick laughed, "Yeah, should have seen that coming. Frankly, I'm with them. I can reduce its size and power both. Besides, not sure sedation will work forever. Can you imagine the size of the pills they're got to be shoving into that thing's gizzard just to keep it out?"
 
"I think they'll use a liquid form," I told him pragmatically.
"It's always liquid with your Fish Guys, isn't it?" Pinprick said.
I sighed. Yeah, they had my back, but my team still thought of me as the new guy, and I'd take a little hazing yet. Who am I kidding? Ribbing each other was part of how some of us coped with the stress. I'd always get poked at a little, still, I could give as good as I got.
"Well, agreed it wouldn't be a small dose," I answered, "Whatever form of medication they're using, they could come up short. They could probably use a little help"
 
"Ha ha," Pinprick grinned, "Nice to see they finally descended," A look to Lady Obsidian, "Can I shoot him now?"
"You started it, Pinprick," Our team leader reminded, "Now if you two boys are done playing? I would like us to act like professional superheroes here? Or is that too much to ask from two supposedly grown men?"
"Sorry, Viv," Pinpricks said, and meant it. Pinprick gave lip to almost everyone, and could be a mean-spirited son of a beach, but he'd walk through hellfire for Lady Obsidian. She'd given him a chance when no one else would. As far as Pinprick was concerned, the good doctor could do no wrong, and I could see why.
 
Ironic that Lady O herself had told me that could be a problem. She'd hinted she wanted me to keep her on even keel and let her know when she crossed a line. I still wasn't sure what to make of that. Jokes and macho displays aside, being the voice of conscience to one of the most respected superheroines on the planet was a heady concept.  And I was sure that there were dozens of folks in the superhero world who could do better. Maybe hundreds.
 
"Eel?" An ahem from her.
I came back to the here and now which was a lot less spooky than the what might have to come into play. I knew my line.
"Sorry, Doctor. Sorry, Pinprick," I said with a head bob, "Back on the matters at hand? I," then it hit me, "Wait, what if the Fumians are behind the giant chicken?"
 
"Pardon?" She asked.
"Where did that come from?" Arctic Fox raised a brow.
"Just now," I admitted, "Think about it, what would someone who runs cock fights want? A bigger stronger co… err Rooster."
 
"Nice save," Tornado muttered low.
"Thanks," I replied.
 
"That actually fits," Lady Obsidian said after a moment, "I think when the survivor is healthy enough to talk to, one of us needs to talk to him. Who wants to check out the location where it first grew to that size and dig around? I'd do it myself, but I need to start work on that frequency."
 
"I've got to go try to shrink that chicken," Pinprick said, "or I'd volunteer to look around."
 
"I'll put some of my detective skills to work," Tornado offered, "Anyone want to work with me?"
 
Ariana didn't miss a beat, "Take me, I could use some pointers in investigating a crime scene. I want to be well rounded now that I'm fully in the game."
 
My jaw opened, "I was hoping we could –"
 
"You're with me, Rookie," Arctic Fox cut in, "With Lady Obsidian working the tech, Pinprick unsupersizing the chicken meal, and those two on detective work, it's up to us to patrol the city and make a show that superheroes are still active in Costa Sagrado."
 
"Sounds like a plan then, everyone gear up and do what they need to do," Lady Obsidian nodded rising, "And make sure you take time for food and sleep in whatever order you need it. It won't do us any good to do this on half energy."
 
And the group began to break up, to my surprise, Ariana wasn't waiting for me. Hell, she wasn't even slowing down.
"Ariana?" I asked, preparing to ask if we could talk.
She flashed me a smile, but there was something forced about it, "I had a meal, thanks. I'll catch you later, I need to get a fresh costume on." And just like that, she waved, gave me another forced smile, and started to pull away.
 
I started to follow anyway. Something was going on, I think? And I didn't like it. We needed to straighten this thing out.
 
Then I slipped on the ice and flopped on my ass while she was turning the corner.
On the ice?
"The hell, Arctic Fox?" I glared at the cold weave brunette and artificially white streaked hair. 
 
"You were about to make a mistake," She informed me, "You were about to force an issue and she's not even ready to tell you what the issue is."
 
"I kind of need to know, don't I?" I said getting up with a scowl. I wasn't sure this was any of her damn business, whatever 'it' was. All I knew is that something happened that had Ariana seeking some distance from me right now and I couldn't fix what she wouldn't talk about. So, we needed to talk.
 
Right?
 
Then Arctic Fox, as if telepathy were one of her powers, said those words that stopped me in my pursuit and guaranteed I'd go along with her on any patrol she wanted.
"I'll tell you what is bothering her," Fox said with an exasperated tone as if she were trying to gather up water into Helen Keller's hands in hope she's notice what should be obvious.
"Yeah?" I said intelligently.
 
"Yeah, only when we're on patrol. Go get changed into a fresh costume yourself, and let's hit the streets. Then, and only then, will I fill you in on why you're a dumb ass."
 
I straightened my back and said with as much dignity as I could manage "It's pronounced Dumas."
 
"Whatever, Alexandre, get your ass in your tights and meet me in the car in five minutes," Arctic Fox strode off with a shake of her head. The very picture of a prom queen stuck with the undignified task of riding herd on the nerds and weirdos.
 
Which is completely unfair of her by the way, because I've always fancied myself the brainy jock type.
 
Five minutes, more or less, later I was in the team's flying car ready to go, "Well?" I looked at Arctic Fox as she slid into the passenger side.
 
"You and Tornado are always quick to grab the driver seat," She sighed, "Boys with toys."
 
"About Ariana and I," I narrowed my eyes.
 
"Once we're up and out and on our way," She pointed upwards, "Not one second before."
 
Sighing, I hit the button, and the roof opened up and the vehicle rose up, up and out, the base closing behind us. In another minute we were over the city streets and on patrol. Patrols were a lot more crapshoot in the old days, but now with algorithms based on crime data and psychological studies and so on, they're more effective than ever.
 
Okay, they're still something a dartboard toss, but at least we're allowed to see the bullseye even if we miss it. Besides, nothing wrong with a quiet night.
 
It would buy me time to get the information I wanted.
 
"So, what the heck did I do to suddenly get the cold shoulder with my girlfriend?" I inquired.
"Relax with the cold shoulder talk. She's not trying to give you that, she's just giving distance. You two have been serious of late, right? I mean, I'm not blind. You're two consenting adults, but it goes beyond that," Arctic Fox said.
"I think so?" I said cautiously, "I mean, I know I'm thinking it's serious, why did she say something about it being serious?"
"She doesn't have to say," Arctic Fox sighed, "Toothbrush in your bathroom?"
"What has that to…" I stopped, "Yes, actually. Both of them, the apartment and the room in the base. Which is weird because she totally has her own room at the base and has longer than I've been here."
"Clueless," She sighed and continued, "Any of your favorite shirts gone missing?"
"She was cold and wanted another layer," I countered. Then again, my STYX T-shirt had been gone for, geeze, had she taken it two weeks ago?  And come to think of it, that baby blue button up was gone too. Looked better on her than it did on me, but that wasn't, "Oh my god, she's got at least three of my tops."
There was something disturbingly insidious about this whole thing, "She even copied my play list for my work out music," I muttered.
"Uh huh, yeah, see, there is a boyfriend, and then there is the boyfriend, and geography is not the point. Ariana has been sneak moving in, testing the waters in ways that should be obvious, but, of course, you're too clueless to catch on. She's committing to you in small ways, but that means she's going beyond the romantic, she's thinking beyond her future, and now thinking about your plural your future. And then you blew off a major factor in your own future right in front of her, and she's got to sort it out before she's sure your future and hers are that tight."
 
"I did what now?" I blinked at her.
"Oh my god you are so clueless," Arctic Fox said with a sigh, "You just lost your job. No, you quit your job, and acted like it was nothing. Now, some money is coming in from your Fish Guy, Eel stuff, but that's an iffy thing and not what you wanted to make a career on anyway, and you put a lot of it to charity. The point is, you just basically drove home that your secret identity's career chances mean nothing to you."
 
"I quit Meaty Minstrel! It's a fast food place. The turnover is huge because the pay is bunk for the sucky hours, poor treatment, and yes hard work. There are almost no benefits, zero. And you're telling me she's mad I quit it? That's crazy," I said.
 
"No, you jackass," Arctic Fox sighed, "It's not that job that's important, it's the principle of the thing. You act like Eel is important, and Caleb is just some guy. You don't show any ambition or even eye on any prize as Caleb."
"Ariana likes superheroes, that part of me turns her on," I said a bit bluntly, "heck, it used to worry me that was all she saw in me. Eel is the guy who gets her toes curling."
 
"But Caleb," Arctic Fox slapped my shoulder with annoyance, "is the guy she is falling in love with. Moron! And you don't give a crap about Caleb. He's an afterthought. So, she's scared. Eel gets her toes curled? Who cares?  She can watch shirtless scenes with some Hollywood studs or read really good romantic fiction for that. Caleb is the guy who, whether he deserves it or not, is getting a grip on her heart. And that is terrifying."
 
I grinned, "You think she's falling in love with me?"
 
Arctic Fox looked at me like she was ready to strangle me right then and there, "Again, you miss the point. Out of the two of you, she is the only one who seems to give a damn about Caleb Lambert."
"I am Caleb Lambert," I informed the crazy lady glaring at me, adding, for emphasis "Duh"
"Caleb Lambert is just a mask to you," She sniffed, "he's someone Eel puts on to blend in with the common folk."
 
"You? You, of all people are accusing me of elitism?" I said with a touch of an edge in my tone, "I have a non-powered room-mate and pay for an apartment"
 
"Only because the superheroine you most admire told you it would be a good  idea, and it would make you a better supehero," She replied, "Caleb has an apartment only because it helps Fish Guy. Caleb has a roommate because Fish Guy needs contact with the normals and that will help him relate better with the 'average citizens'. Caleb is a tool," A pause "In more ways than one.  Leaving the super side totally out of it; When's the last time you felt any pride in anything Caleb Lambert has done?"
I gaped at her.  I stared at her open mouthed.
I searched for words, and none were coming.
"I can save more lives as Eel," I told her finally.
"That wasn't the question," Arctic Fox pointed a finger in my face challenging.
"Caleb is, is, that is, he's- that is I am a damned nice guy" I protested.
"No argument, and yet still not what I asked you," why was she rubbing my nose into this?
"I don't know, I, I try to do the right thing…"
"As Eel"
"I try to set a good example…"
"is Caleb a good example?"
 
Why was she pushing this I didn't have to answer? I didn't owe her an answer. I – I did not want to answer.
 
"Not for a long time," I admitted finally. "I haven't been proud of just Caleb in a long time."
 
"And you wonder why she should be scared of being in love of a guy who doesn't even respect himself? Not fully, not really? You don't look out for yourself, Caleb. And in the battlefield, you look out for Eel, and that means that if it gets serious for Ariana and Caleb, she's going to have to be the one who keeps it real and keeps looking out for you as a couple in the real world because you're sure as hell not going to be. So yeah, you're giving her a lot to think about so either throw her a life saver, or give her some freaking space."

(Continued, rough draft so errors will abound. comments still welcome)
 
People assume that if you have a Southern accent you must have grown on a farm. The truth of the matter is while I have family with farms, I am hardly an expert on poultry. Chicken coops stink, I know that much, so after I grasped the immensity of this things size, I then became illuminated to the intensity of the stench that wafted from it as feathers flew.
"Oh," I made a face after getting the big man back inside a building, "You are one foul fowl. Now let's calm down, and not eat anyone okay?  Nice rooster, good rooster, rather rank rooster" I continued in a voice I hoped sounded soothing while still getting the attention of the Brobdingnagian bird.
Not respecting my extensive vocabulary, the damn thing kicked me a good sixty feet in the air and smashed me through the window of a second-floor apartment. There was the shattering of glass, a woman's scream, and I looked up to see an open bathroom door and a woman desperately reaching for a towel.
I averted my eyes from her and apologized, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, giant chicken!" I pointed to the window!
 "That is no excuse! Chanel 3 always said heroes were menaces and I always thought they were too rough on you guys, but I'm starting to have serious," Her eyes drifted to follow where I was pointing "It's a giant chicken!" Her eyes widened as an angry avian approached.
"What I said!" I reminded, "Get back in the bathroom, close the door, and lay low."
"The size of that pecker is huge," She gaped.
I was being so good right now, I thought before saying "Bathroom, lay low. Thanks."
And I leapt from the window projecting myself with superstrong legs to punch the chicken right in the head!  I hoped to line up the trajectory, so it fell on the street and not the buildings. I didn't quite get the English on it right, and the thing staggered back into a street light!
This thing wasn't just big and strong, it could take a punch that would go through steel!
And yes, I'm aware some animal lovers would be appalled that I just risked what might have been a killing blow on a chicken. To which I ask if you've ever eaten out of a bucket? If you have, then you have no moral high ground.
Zero.
Zip.
 
"Cock-a-doodle-do!" I said and made scratching motions as I tried to lead it away. An area with warehouses would be best. Some of those are empty half the year. It's why villains often squat there. I needed to get this thing away from the heavier populated area.
Apparently megachicken did not like my scratching the ground, miming a rooster. In fact he really, really, looked quite pissed.
"Buh-Ka!" it bellowed and charged.
"And here we go," I said breaking into a full run of my own. In the past I've often lamented my lack of mobility compared to some other heroes who can run at superspeed, fly, or even teleport. To compensate for this, I've been practicing my sprinting. Unlike my swimming speed I won't be breaking any records for that.
 
Have you ever tried outrunning a fifty-foot tall anything? Talk about a wide stride, that damn chicken was on me much faster than I intended. I'd barely gotten another quarter of a block. From the window of another building I could see someone using their phone to record me. Well, if I had any dignity in this before, and I'm not sure how I could. Fish Guy runs from Fowl Giant- Film at Eleven.
 
I leaped, hoping to get some more distance. Superstrength in the legs means you can really hop when you have to; but the damn thing caught me in mid air! One moment I was hitting Olympic high jump levels of altitude, and then SNAP there was pain.
A lot of pain.
The beck hadn't just clamped down on me, it was actually cutting through the skin of the right leg it had trapped and was squeezing harder. What the hell had empowered this thing? I could only imagine what the spurs would do.
If I wasn't hurting and embarrassed both, I might have had the presence of mind to joke about getting a leg up in the world, and certainly threats about eleven secret herbs and spices in the fowl's future would surely have flowed. As it was, I wasn't on top of my quip game.
Heck, I didn't even think to call the giant rooster 'Chicken not so little'
"Let go!" I said and reared my free leg up and plowed it in the side of the face with the force of a wrecking ball. And when it didn't work the first time, I did it again, and again.
Third time being the charm the chicken cried out in pain and dropped me. The bird was really at the multiple shots to its head.
And I? I plummeted to the ground from nearly fifty in the air, slamming into the street below with all the grace of a bean bag with dreams of flight. I rolled to my feet feeling more than a bit tender. I needed to keep pulling this thing away from the populated areas. Protecting innocents is priority one for the New Samaritans.
 
Even if those innocents are idiots.
 
The news van's lights caught Megachicken's attention right away. That, combined with the movement, really drew its attention away from me. And that was something nobody could afford.
Megachicken charged towards this new target and the driver of the van got a panicked look in his face and tried to turn despite the reporter screaming in his ear that they couldn't leave without the story- Smart Driver.
 
I needed its attention again. And to save whatever members of the fourth estate that didn't have the sense to stay away from Poultry that could quite literally bite their heads off. Seizing the bent streetlamp, I tore it all the way out and whipped it around with what I hoped was a challenging bellow and throw it like a drunken Scottish American on steroids at a highland games contest. It struck the back of the chicken where it bent and warped before sliding off the dirty feathers of the beast.
 
I don't know how much the throw hurt it, if at all, but it did cast one baleful eye my way and the chicken chase was on again. I was going slower than before, of course. A wounded leg will do that to you, but at least we were almost at the warehouses and, praise the lord, the news crew wasn't closing in again.
 
They can be taught.
 
I also noticed the chicken was shaken a little, maybe not as quick as it was before after all. That was gratifying. When I kick something in the head, it keeps the old ego bolstered to know said kick is having an effect. That said, it was still gaining again. Possibly because I was challenging it.
"Hey, Buhkaw!" I said over shoulder and held up my hands over my head in what I hoped looked like a bristling comb mimicry.
 
"BuhKaw!" Megachicken thundered back. No, he did not like this challenge at all.  I made another jump, well, hop, towards the warehouse avoiding falling under another talon lash. One more jump and we were in the warehouse parking lot.  Not a car was in sight, no lights in the building were on.
 
I was safe to cut loose and then some.
I turned around and this time when the damn bird tried to kick me, I ran under its legs and took a shot at the right drumstick while the left was upraised. Tough this thing was, but it still needed support and balance. So Roostersaurus came a tumbling down.
 
I nearly got pinned underneath it. Wouldn't that be a hoot? But I had room to move now. I could cut loose, and let me tell you something, aching leg or not? It felt good!
Another leap, another punch to the creature's head and this it felt! Only feathers were really masking the massive bruises I was now inflicting on this thing.  It began to stand up, I tore feathers on my way to prevent myself from falling. They were slick, stinky, and gross and I was going to need a shower after this. I gave him a belly shot on my way down and it staggered again even as I landed.
"That's right, big guy, I've been going easy on you up till now," I grabbed a leg, braced, and exerted myself. I was about to lift something heavier than a post office building. I should know, I had a basis for comparison.
I lifted megachicken up off its feet! And was already to flip it on its back again!
 
What happened next, I did not expect. I should have, but I didn't.
There was an intense rush of wind, a foul-smelling torrent of air, accompanied by sounds akin to muffled thunder, and I? I was rising off the ground. There was a good reason for that. The now panicking chicken was trying to fly! I don't know if whatever had increased its wing size had made it possible, but by the Spirit of the Colonel himself, the damn thing was taking off.
 
And taking me with it.
 
This is my life.
 
"Oh, come on!" I called out as we took to the air together. We were going up, up, and over the warehouse I had worked so hard to lead it to. Then we began to go down again. I don't know. Maybe the chicken got tired. Maybe the forces of science finally noticed and said: This is just too much. No. Just no.
So here we were about to nest on a warehouse.
 
There was no way that roof was going to hold her weight. I guess it wouldn't be superheroing if there wasn't some property damage. Still, I winced as I dropped down to the warehouse, not because my leg was pounding already and landing from that height stung, but because I knew what was happening next.
 
Well, I thought I knew what was happening next.
 
Yes, Megachicken fell down on the warehouse roof. Yes, the roof began almost immediately to buckle and break under it. It flapped furiously and fell through. I could see all that happening.
 
What I didn't see coming was the woman levitating over the chicken, and then suddenly plummeting down like a human cannonball. Once it began, I had quite the show.
There was a horrendous crack, and I think said lady gave the rooster a concussion. Its huge eyes widened, and then it went out. The costumed woman slid rapidly at first, then suddenly slowed and drifted through the air like a ghost towards me. Just as quickly she dropped before me, grabbed me to bring my head down, and decided she wanted to steal a good chunk of the oxygen in my lungs as she laid one hell of a kiss on me.
"Hi," She said when she parted.
I grinned down at her, "Nice costume."
 
What wasn't to like? The costume was green and red, with a few gold touches to break things up. Her emerald top had a V cut edged in gold which showed a tasteful and appealing flash of cleavage but not anything you'd worry about coming part at the first time she got knocked end over end. The red leggings under a gold belt also worked out nicely and, as she wasn't stupid, the boots did not have high heels. It was form fitting and functional, and she even had gloves of gold and green to keep those pesky finger prints from betraying her. The Mask went down to bottom of the nose level.
"Thanks I," She made a face at something, "What's that smell?"
 
"That would be the giant chicken you just clambered all over," I said, "And that I was fighting before that." I started to pull her in for another kiss, but she was having none of it.
"No, no, sorry, not until we've both had a shower or bath, ugh," a firm shake of the head no.
 
"Are you telling I can't kiss or touch you again because of filthy fifty foot tall rooster?" I raised a brow.
 
"that's what I'm saying," Ariana nodded. Ariana is not a tall woman, and she's pretty, so much to her annoyance sometimes every little thing she does is adorable. Combine that with what I said and, I couldn't help what slipped out of my mouth next.
"Gives a whole new definition to cock-blocked" I grinned.
 
She groaned "Okay, you just blocked yourself, I'll decide how long."
 
I grinned at that "Now, you're being mean, miss…" A thought occurred to me, "Wait, what's your superhero name? I mean, I hope you already picked one?"
"I sure did," She grinned, "Say hello to the newest member of the New Samaritans, Valorosa!" Ariana, that is, Valorosa, struck an exaggerated heroic pose.
 
"Valarosa? I-" Then the metaphorical lightbulb came on over my head. I had learned some more Spanish words since dating Ariana "Wait, isn't that Spanish for Valorous?"
"Si," She dimpled, "Your Spanish is really coming along. Though to be fair that is an easy one. Valorosa is indeed the feminine form of Valorous. I kind of stole his name. It’s a good one, and that jerk certainly didn't deserve it."
 
"Kind of?" I raised a brow, "Does Arctic Fox know about this?"
 
"Know about it?" Valorosa replied, "Who do you think suggested it?"
 
"Of course, she did," I said, shook my head, and began to chuckle. Trust the men girl for justice to get a bit of her own back.  You know, normally I don't believe in stealing a superhero's name, but in the end? Valorous had been no hero. He had broken Ariana's arm, in fact, and might have killed her if he felt he had to for his "mission". There are a lot of things I regret in this life. Beating the holy snot out of Valorous and taking his amplifier tech off him? Not even close. And the more I remembered, the more I wanted to punch him again. I could only imagine how rightfully ticked Arctic Fox felt.
 
Yeah, Valorous didn't deserve that name.
 
The Authorities began to come in, firemen, police, and animal control. Exactly what they were going to do with a fifty-foot-tall chicken? I don't know. But the news tonight was going to be interesting.
Valorosa was frowning her chocolate eyes intent. I followed the gaze and realized she was looking at the wounds on my leg.
"I'll heal up in the shower" I promised.
 
"Mmph," She said, "Another reason for you to take one."
 
"Wash my back?" I grinned broadly.
 
"Eww, no," Then a slip of a smile escaped, "But once you've got the first layer off, I might let you wash mine? Would that be too daunting a task for the mighty Eel?"
 
"It's a tough job," my grin widened, "But a man's got to do what a man's got to do."
"My hero" She said dramatically.
 
We left before the press could be allowed closer by the Authorities. Ariana believed, and I had to agree, that fighting a fifty-foot-tall rooster should not be your first act on record as a superhero.  The media would get the word on Valorosa another day.
 
The shower was wonderful, thank you, and obviously for reasons that went well beyond getting clean or even regeneration.  Ariana likes to complain I rushed the first kiss between us all because we defeated a bad guy together. But she kissed back!  About two months into our relationship, we got serious, as in, all the way serious. It was a more mature relationship than I'd been in in, well, perhaps ever, and rather than getting scared about where this was going, I found myself kind of thoughtful about that very thing.
 
Then again, I've been burned by romance as much as anyone else. Don't rush things, Caleb.
 
We had gone to the base, so Mabel chiming in on the wall did not surprise me, "Hey there you two, I'm assuming it's two?"
 
Ariana blush prettily at that, and said "Yes, and you know that. Is the team back from their diplomatic meeting?"
 
"Yes, and speaking of meetings," Mabel hinted, "There's one up in the next ten minutes. All Sammies expected."
 
"We'll be there," I assured "Thanks, Mabel."
The light that was active whenever Mabel was 'in' a room went off, and I smiled at Ariana, "Lot can be done in ten minutes."
 
"yes," She agreed, "But can it be done well? Let's get dressed.  What we can do? We can get fully dressed in clean clothes," A light pat and it looked like that was the plan despite my hopes. Oh well, can't blame a guy for trying for a round two right?
 
What could I say, I'm flesh and blood, young and male, and I maybe in love with her. This is a combination that leads to romantic poetry or at least bawdy hip hop. But here I was hiking on clothes and making sure I was respectable enough for our little group talk.
The base was built into an old mall. At first I was surprised, but after I got over that, I started to realize how brilliant that was. A lot of old malls are dying, but the size is huge, and for those that were closed, they have an area of parking space nowhere near a house or private business. In short, innocents won't be endangered unless we have guests, and most folks don't know about the place.
 
Add to that super tech and this is a really nice set up. And the rooms here are so much nicer than my apartment it is hard not using this place as my main residence instead of the secondary one.
 
The others were waiting in what had once been a food court. Everyone was there, though not everyone was in costume. Lady Obsidian, for example, was dressed in her usual professional classy casual combo. The oldest member of our team, Doctor Vivian Vernon was also our leader. She'd been at this longer than any of us.
 
But even she could be surprised.
 
"A fifty-foot-tall chicken is all over the news, the square cube law has been repealed so often I think it's merely a guideline now" She sighed.

Blitzkrieg Bop - The Ramones

I beg to differ. I played EVE for over three years as my main game and just never bothered with all that sec space heavy PvP stuff. Stuck to Hisec, ran missions, chatted amiably on the Help channel and after about 10 months was keeping my sub up without paying real money because I could earn enough isk doing exploration and epics to fund a PLEX each month. The PvP aspect really comes down to "EVE has the absolute best threats to fight in any MMO". I treat pirate players like NPCs with exceptionally good AI.
 
And I really found the EVE community to be great. There's a limit to how rude you can be when the game actively encourages you to hunt down and ruin an annoying troll. Or hire someone to do it for you.
 
I swapped over to Elite Dangerous when that launched and haven't played much EVE since, but the upcoming shakeup to the free to play in December has me interested again.
 
I would ALWAYS encourage anyone to give EVE a shot. Just remember to only fly what you can afford to lose, don't get all precious about mere replaceable gear, and have fun.
 
And in relation to those "real world costs" from the big battles... no one actually buys those. It's all generated using the in-game economy. Just because you could buy a Titan for x amount of Dollars doesn't mean much - every part of that Titan had to actually be constructed from mining the minerals to building it in a special spacedock in game. 

I've got an angle...

The Adventures of Fish Guy Part DUE!
 
Let me tell you something about superhero costumes; they are a hell of a lot more dignified than what I am wearing now. The buttons around my neck threatened to choke me, the piping was garish, but the real kicker was the stupid hat I had to wear working here. Oh well, at least I was actually getting a shot at working the drive through rather than stuck on fries again.  I was, I thought, getting the hang of it.
 
"Welcome to Meaty Minstrel" I took a deep breath and said the catch phrase they were pushing "Home of the Merry Meat that's the DJ of your belly party. May I take your order?"
 
"I'm sorry?" The customer's voice came on line "Could you say that again?" the voice sounded familiar, latino to be sure, but that was hardly rare in the city of Costa Sagrado, California.
 
"May I take your order?" I repeated as directed.
 
"No, the thing before that," The driver said.
 
I sighed, took a deep breath and said a bit louder "Home of the Merry Meat that's the DJ of your belly party." Honestly, having to say a catchphrase shouldn't make you want to die a little inside.
 
Laughter broke out and other familiar voices came out "Oh god, he said it. Mabel did you have that recorded?"
 
"Of course"  came a feminine purr I knew all too well
 
"Valentino? Is that you?" I said trying not bite the mouthpiece of the restaurant's headset off, "I know it's Mabel." Valentino, aka Tornado, is a fellow member of the New Samaritans: The best damned superhero team in the city!
 
Of course, we're the only superhero team in the city, so some would say the fix on that title is in, but given we (with some help from other superteams) prevented the Eldest from using various undersea nations from rising up in an unholy crusade against the surface; I would say we earned it. They're heroes. They're my friends.
 
"It's not just Valentino, huh, the Fish Fillet any good here?" Pinprick inquired.
 
And sometimes they're jerks.
 
"Really? Really? You guys have nothing better to do than bust my chops about this job?" I groaned.
"Nothing more fun, at least," Valentino said.
"Nothing on this menu is healthy" Another female voice. That would be Arctic Fox. I once called her a 'Mean Girl for Justice' and she's that, but she also had heart ripped out not so long ago when she learned her boyfriend was a black ops government spy out to steal our technology.
Life is complicated for superheroes as a default.
'Try the salad," I suggested. No, it wasn't actually healthy, but it was at the least unhealthy thing you could order as long as it was relatively fresh, "And can we move this along?"
"Oh, the attitude from these people, I ought to lodge a complaint" Pinprick snorted.
 
I made a mental note to not hold back so much in our teams' next sparing practice. Maybe a few more bruises would have them reconsidering hassling me.
 
Okay, yes, unworthy of me but it had been a long shift.
 
Naturally, they all ordered things like the "Fishy Fool Fillet" and the "Dockhand delectables" oh, and yes, a salad.
 
When they pulled up to get the goods though, the coms all went off in our ears instead of Mabel talking through the vehicle itself.
"Big news, Sammies," Our Artificially Intelligent Ally chimed up, "The Hyadesians have landed outside the city. Lady Obsidian says it's probably best we show up in force."
 
"Man, I hate those guys," Pinprick said, "They act polite but they're so damn full of themselves just because they have an advanced culture and try all this 'oh we're so humble but we know we're smarter than you'."
Tornado agreed, "Like Canadians on steroids, man."
 
Seeing my look of confusion at details without the core of it, Arctic Fox added, "Aliens, they've never invaded Earth, but they're waiting for our planet to-" She made air quotes "'uplift ourselves to a state of civilization advanced enough to join the Community of Interstellar Advancement'. They claim they are fond of us despite our provincial leanings."
 
"Wow," I said, and realized something. I was trapped! I mean, if I wanted to keep this stupid job I was trapped, "Guys, uhm, if you need me maybe I can bail but otherwise."
 
"We got this," Valentino assured me, "We don't want all of us there anyway in case something happens in the city, heck, Ariana is-"
There was a loud honk cutting through the conversation. A new car was tired of waiting for its turn to order. Which was terrible timing because I kind of wanted to know what was up with Ariana. She may have been Valentino's niece, but she was also my girlfriend.
 
And the newest member of the team if she'd finally picked a name and costume. I'd trained with her, but she hadn't had her superhero debut.  And now, she was apparently ready and on reserve!  Ariana was a partial, that's not denture wear, that's a term in our community for someone who has enough power to slap a normal around, but isn't up to hanging with actual supervillains.  Valorous, the aforementioned heartbreaker and spy, had been a partial with tech that boosted his power all the way up to 'standard' superhero level.
 
He tried to take our tech, so we felt no guilt taking his amplifier belt and the belts of his squad for our own. Lady Obsidian was one of the most brilliant minds on the planet, and she put that genius to the art of reverse engineering and then improving. Yeah, if that was all set, then at least two of us would be in the city ready to handle trouble while the bulk of the team dealt with alien diplomacy.
 
HONK!
 
"Oh now I want to hit the emergency brake" Valentino muttered "And live here."
"But we've gotta go," Pinprick said "Before I'm spotted hanging out in this cupholder."
"Yeah yeah" Valentino said
"Go guys, we'll hold the fort," I told them.
It was only after they peeled off that I realized they'd left their meal behind. I sure hope they didn't get hangry while discussing the fate of the planet with the alien guys.
"Lambert!" A voice sneered behind me. My supervisor, Madison, was an angry little woman desperate to prove she was in charge at all times. Sad thing is, no one was denying that. Worse thing? Right now, she had the right to be.
"Sorry, problem children in the last car load," I answered, "Drove off without their order and everything."
 
"You have to learn to read pranksters," Madison said with her hand on her hip "This is a real city," She announced, "And you need to drop the country boy naivety," She declared in her usual high pitched condescending tone.
 
This was not the first time she'd all but said 'Hayseed' 'Reckneck' or worse. Madison made little effort to hide her disdain for my accent or where I had come from. She also had some very interesting notions about Coastal North Carolina which were more in keeping with the guys in the Beverly Hillbillies than anyone I really knew in the area. Not that I mean to trash the Clampets, if you read between the lines on those shows they often had more sense than folks gave them credit for.
 
But bigots are bigots, and I'd put up with a lot since we'd first met. I let it roll off my skin mostly. And, like I said, this time, from her view, I deserved it. Keep the traffic flowing is supposed to be rule one at the drive through.
 
"Yes, Madison" I fought the urge to snap a salute and before she could lay into me more I called up the next car, "Welcome to Meaty Minstrel, Home of the Merry Meat that's the DJ of your belly party. May I take your order?" I was well away I was probably back on my way to the frier.
But as the next customer chewed me out for taking too long with the car before them that just peeled off anyway, and then proceeded on their own to be unsure of what they wanted, two things occurred to me.  This was not going to be a good day.
 
And I hated this job.
 
Hate or not, rent was rent, and since I had taken Lady Obsidian up on her suggestion to keep one foot in the 'real world' and get a residence off base, I had my half of the rent for an apartment to contribute.  I spent the next hour going through the grind and work of the fast food industry. My parents raised me never to sneer at honest work; and that's the wise thing to do. But knowing what's wise and taking it to heart are two separate things.
 
And every once in awhile I'd get that look of pity from a customer which was almost as bad as the smug look of social superiority. It occurred to me that when Lady Obsidian mentioned Meaty Minstrel was hiring, it had been yet another pitch for me to get my ass back in college.
Damn it, it was working.
 
Then Mabel buzzed in my ear "Eel, we have a problem. You're going to need to suit up."
 
It is probably very wrong that I almost pumped my fist and said "Yus!" right then and there.
 
Instead, I answered, "What's the situation?"  even as I tried to decide whether to fake illness or a family emergency.
 
"You're not going to believe it," Mabel said "There's a giant-"
 
There was a hellish sound that sounded like a high-pitched foghorn going off with two beats, "BuhKAW!"
 
I looked the window and said to Mabel, "Giant Chicken, a Rooster? Yellow beak, dark plumage? About oh, fifty feet tall?"
 
"How did you know?" Mabel said, "I know it sounds really weird but, wait, how did you guess?"
 
"I think it wants to place an order," I told her as I stared at the giant rooster that appeared to be pecking up a garbage can outside of a laundry mat as the people in it screamed and fled. That was a mistake, the movement drew its attention and it eyed one obese gentleman like he was a particularly tasty grub, "Mabel, I gotta go. See who's available for back up for damage control."
 
"You got it, baby, have a finger licking good time" was the response.
 
Sometimes it's hard being the straight man on a super team, but somebody's got to do it.
 
Madison didn't bother to hide her disgust, "Hey, Gomer, get your butt back to work."
 
I walked right past her, hiked a thumb towards the window, "Giant Chicken. I quit."
 
"what you what?" she said in confusion and then looked out the window "Oh my god, there's a giant chicken out there!"
 
"Good eye" I said moving to the front, "Folks, there's a giant chicken out there. I'd stay inside if I were you."
 
Naturally three morons rushed right out to 'see'.
 
I should have known better, I really should have.
 
Once I was outside myself, I darted around a corner and found a place to change. Oh how I envy the old serials where a superhero could just slip into a full sized phone booth and pull a George Reeves.  Of course, in this day and age, few people need payphones at all, and any booths would be used as porty potties by some drunk.
 
So it's for the best. Shuck one silly fast food uniform, reveal one awesome costume, slip on the mask and it was Eel time.
You have try phrases like that in your head as a superhero. If you just blurt them aloud and it doesn't catch on, you become the butt monkey meme of the month. Not that I've escaped that. My chosen superhero name is Eel, but most folks know me as Fish Guy.
So, yes, I am certainly a meme victim.
 
The giant beak came down as the large man below the megachicken yelled out "I swear to God, I normally eat beef!"
 
I grabbed him and rolled with him to safety. The beak behind us missed, and instead made cracks in the sidewalk. The chicken's beak was fine, and it just look annoyed at having been cheated of a meal.
 
"That," I observed, "Is one tough bird."