BoloOfEarth

What is this "thought" of which you speak?

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."

Madame Might
 
Helen Clarkson was asked to portray the comic book character Madame Might for a photoshoot. And that is where fate takes a hand. Because one villain thought it would be funny to actually give her powers while another thought it would be good to kill her in front of witnesses, Fortunately the first one struck before the latter. And Helen was able to shrug off the bullets and take down the bad guys. Now she operates as Madame Might. See the powers have not worn off, and the first villain thought it would be authentic to gift Helen with Madame Might's mindset as well.

Hero Girl...Strange Visitor from another planet...   Or was it “Born with inhuman powers, Hero Girl must fight to defend a world that hates and fears her....   Or maybe.. “After getting powers from a paper cut from a radioactive comic book, Hero Girl strives to live up to the words of her dead grandmother April: With great Powers comes great responsibility.”   She could never keep track off all these retcons! Well, the next universe reboot would clear things up. Probably... on the bright side, she really liked this new costume! Tres Golden Age!   Jenny Harper was a quiet introverted child, keeping to herself, often losing herself in her father's library of comic, both vintage and modern. He'd died shortly after Jenny was born and her mother, a distant woman, retreated even more in her grief. She was never deliberately abusive or cruel just closed off. Jenny never lacked for anything she needed but affection and assurance. She grew up quiet and alone, reading both comics and reams of adventure fiction. A more physical girl might have been a Tomboy, but the cerebral Jenny had her adventures in her imagination, putting herself among the four colors heroes she read about. She was allot like her father, a fact that drove a deeper wedge between the child and her mother. She reminded her too much of her dead husband.    Sensing this but reading it as antipathy, Jenny retreated further, guilty for something but never knowing what. Eventually, she came to blame herself for her father's death. That must have been what made her mother so sad. She should have done something to stop it. A hero, like the ones she read about would have. But she wasn't a hero, just a girl.    When Jenny was 13, her mother's depression finally became to much for her and she committed suicide. Jenny found her body,to late to be of any help.    Again.    Something broke inside her. Despair, self loathing, anger... Jenny's fragile psyche shattered but something was unlocked inside her as well, a great and potent power that burst outward, driven by her desire to fix things, to fix....everything.    In that instant, the world was reshaped. To some extent. And Jenny was reborn. Now a 20 yr old intrepid reporter for metropolitan newspaper (that hadn't existed before) she had a secret identity as the blonde power house Hero Girl!    But there was more, Jenny's unstable, instinctive power not only catered to her wish to be a hero, it drew on her fantasies of being in the comics she loved, bringing them to life. Jenny knows she's actually in a comic book and her world driven by the narrative rules of the medium along with the whims of writers and a sometimes fickle public.   Being in on the 'reality' of the situation gives Jenny certain advantages. Sometimes she can read the captions and thought bubbles and get insights that would be otherwise impossible, step between “panels” and transverse incredible distances instantly and other bizarre feats, even sweet talking (or arguing) with the writers and other beyond the 4th wall to various ends.    As Hero Girl, her powers and appearance very widely, driven by the whims of the 'writers'. She manifests forms derived from stereotypes drawn from comics and the various ages and subgenres of superhero stories from brooding  Iron Age avengers to Silver Age boy (girl) scouts and her personality adjust to match but Jenny's perky optimistic core is always present. She likes the pictured version, a silver age heroine of  great physical power, the best but accepts retcons with grudging good will. They never last long anyway. Her past or 'origin' adjust accordingly as well but some things are constant. Her parents are both alive and well (sometimes happily married, sometimes troubled or even separated depending on the tone of this particular series), her father figure is constructed from idealized faint memories and fantasies of her father with her mother sometimes as a darker figure occasionally a sympathetic villain, one in need of help.    Jenny's powers are such they occasionally create other figures to help drive her narratives but usually just subtly steer things in proper direction. Her reality sculpting powers don't often alter the larger world in overt ways, most of their effects are very subtle or focused on Jenny. She is completely unaware of them and truly believes she is a comic book character. Observant characters could notice the odd inconsistencies that spring up around her as reality is reshaped to cater to her delusion and deduce what's happening. For  example, if she is a 'brick' what she can do with her strength will be extreme even for comic book physics (crushing coal into diamonds, lifting entire intact buildings by one corner, and similar feats).   Investigative efforts could discover the odd holes in her background(s) and in the histories of people generated by her powers and other oddities (everyone has heard of the paper she works for but no one can remember beyond the last copy they read and any back issues only go back a year and all the stories are about superheroes mostly written by Jenny). Psychic or magically gifted beings might sense what is going on with Jenny and the extreme but largely unconscious and latent power within her. That could make the naive, troubled girl a target for malicious forces seeking to exploit, control or even steal her power.  After all, she is still an intelligent but young girl inside and a manipulative figure could easily take advantage of that. 

"Fear the furious fumes of Foxbat's flaming - fingfong falls?  Dammit, I almost pulled off a V for Vendetta there! Wait here, I'll be back after I check my villain thesaurus app...."

'Put 'em up, put 'em up ! Which one of you first ? I'll fight you both together if you want. I'll fight you with one paw tied behind my back. I'll fight you standing on one foot. I'll fight you with my eyes closed..'

Normally, I shy away from reading comments on websites, but the first one that I saw there had a great nickname for Trump that I need to remember:  Dolt 45.

Normally, I shy away from reading comments on websites, but the first one that I saw there had a great nickname for Trump that I need to remember:  Dolt 45.

How did Taylor Swift get lifeguard Mitch Buchannon to dance ?
 
 

What did the vacuum cleaner say back to the ceiling fan?
 
 
 

One thing Trump has achieved: A lot of us are realizing, or remembering, how important such fuzzy and archaic concepts as "honor," "character," "tradition," and "trust" actually are to maintaining the sort of society we want to live in.
 
Back when I attended the University of Washington, I heard a talk from an emeritus professor who was one of FDR's advisors back in WW2. Early in the war, there was debate about media control. Should the government try to suppress news about military defeats or domestic labor unrest?
 
He said no. He argued that "The government of the United States must never be seen to lie." Or even to hide the truth. His reason: "If our enemies see that we tell the truth when the truth is bad for us and good for them, they will believe us when the truth is good for us and bad for them." Roosevelt agreed.
 
The payoff came at the end of the war. The administration knew the US was going to defeat Japan eventually, and began planning for the war's end. This led to what the professor called the most narrowly targeted propaganda campaign in history: aimed solely at Emperor Hirohito and the few other people with real power in the Japanese government. The message: Though we demand unconditional surrender, we in fact offer some conditions. There will be no revenge -- and the Emperor will live. In this, it is safe to surrender.
 
And the message was believed. Not to undervalue the importance of nuking Hiroshima and Nagasaki, but the professor argued it was just as important that the Japanese government -- in particular, Hirohito himself -- believed the back-channel promise that he would be spared.
 
I have remembered this story every time it has come out that the US government or president has lied through its teeth. When strict honesty was the rational strategic choice in the greatest danger the country faced in a century, what's your excuse for lying now?

I believe the excuse, although Trump would never admit it, is self-interest. His past actions show a pattern of decision making based on whatever would be best for him, personally, whoever else was involved.

If you want to go full on weird how about the weakness fields from Hancock? Her children are litteraly her weakness, in their presence she's just a well built, very healthy woman, when seperated she becomes Super. She bears the seperation soley to create justice in an unjust world...?

then we have something in common. But then understand I'm one o those whacky guys who sees North  America and South America as two different Continents and just plain "America" as a country. Yes, I know many have decided it's one continent... but it's two. I know because Teddy Freaking Roosevelt sealed the deal it that way by arranging a canal! Thanks Teddy!
 
So to all my fellow North Americans be ye Canadian, Mexican, or whatever. I say rock on 
 
And I hear South Americans are lovely people too
 
EDIT: And yes, of course I Know  you can call the country 'The United States' if you want.  That's two thirds of it's name  but if someone calls me a yankee or a "USian" or a  Gringo don't expect me to answer. Pet peeve. I try to respect what others prefer to be called, so I expect the same in return. Not singling you out, LL. But like I said, pet peeve.
 
 
EDIT EDIT: And I apologize. I'm probably being very defensive and unnecessarily so. I seem to be in a bad mood today

Dude. If that's you lashing out in a bad mood, I'm going to have to declare you one of the nicest people I know. It's like a puppy nibble compared to my mildly cranky responses.

So, the players got to meet (actually rescue/capture) Major Vasilov, as well as encountering a Shadow Creature summoned by Darkforce.  The best part was when Shadow Boxer figured out that the hero team was being spied upon through nearby shadows -- which is usually his gig. 
 
The plot involved the Boston Commons (at Secession Squad's behest) kidnapping the son of a certain unnamed political figure when said son was secretly meeting with Vasilov.  The Commons captured Vasilov as well, and had staged things to look like the hero team was responsible for the kidnapping.  When the heroes found out about Vasilov, they further researched Red Alert enough to learn a bit about Mother Russia. 
 
During the actual rescue mission (mainly the heroes wanted to clear their own names), as they were preparing to teleport out, they realized they couldn't force Vasilov to go with them.  So their mentalist used a Mental Illusion on him to make herself appear to be Mother Russia and convinced him to go along willingly.  (And yes, the mentalist knows how to speak Russian.)  All in all, a successful mini-introduction of Red Alert.
 
Many thanks to all for your suggestions and comments.  I plan to use them to further flesh out Red Alert, as this team will likely play a part in future adventures.

Are you nuts? Who wants to have sex with a reactor? Sure, your thing will glow, but not for long enough to makit worth it!
 
Neon lights vs bioluminesence

Two teams. The, "Shield" team is the public one, defenders of Russia. Team, "Sword" is covert ops.

But the symbology is a little backward, The hammer represents the industrial proletariat and the sickle represents the agricultural workers. They're not weapons. Plus modern Russia eschews overt Soviet symbology. Save that stuff for cold war settings, really.
 
The Federal Security Service do continue to use the old KGB sword & shield badge, but with the soviet emblem replaced with the Russian Federation one. Same job, same symbolism.
 
The Russian Federation patriotic colours are red, white and blue. The national emblem is this:
 

 
I could see a flag suit called Russian Eagle (Русский орел - Russkiy orel); white bodysuit with the shield on the chest and blue and red trim. The rider is St George killing a dragon with a spear, so there's another image you could run with. Make him from Georgia for a double dip of patron saint.

Hmmm... I don't want the element to be too common, because I don't want the PCs to have ready access to it.  (Plus, I made her powers not work in the presence of an Uncommon element, and I don't want to redo all of that.)  Though I could make it a relatively rare Earth element that her home world didn't have.  (quick research - just found this listing of radioactive gems that might be useful.  There's even one called - I kid you not - Coffinite.  Though I'm inclined toward Chevkinite, which was named after a Russian general-major who was chief of staff of the Russian Mining Engineers Corps.)
 
Truly Evil GM Moment -- I could still have the meteorites (kinda like the sound of stalinite), which the players will immediately latch onto... but it doesn't have any effect on her at all.  ("Why are you waving that rock in my face, Honey Badger?  Is that supposed to be some American humor that I just don't understand?")
 
As to General Zima, that's an idea.  One of his kids, or grandkids, could be a member of Red Alert.  I'll have to think on that.  Thanks.

((OFF TOPIC)) 
This is an aluminum foil recipe. Serves one. Make multiple separate packets if you are serving more than one.
 
Chicken part (I'm a white meat guy, so it was usually a breast)
1/8 to 1/4-inch thick slice of a medium onion
Garlic powder (two scant pinches)
Dried oregano (two scant pinches)
Bottled Russian salad dressing (two generous teaspoons)
 
Comment: The Russian dressing has honey in it (most salad dressings don't) which makes the baked juice have a nice glaze to it. Other dressings are a real step down.
 
Lay out the foil. Cut the onion slice in half. Separate the rings of one half of the slice, and array them on top of the middle of the foil.
 
Sprinkle a pinch of garlic powder and pinch of oregano over the onion.
 
Pour 1 teaspoon of the salad dressing over the onion.
 
Lay the chicken part atop everything.
 
Repeat the first few steps: separated onion ring halves, garlic powder, oregano, salad dressing, but everything goes on top of the chicken.
 
Roll up the foil to make a sealed packet. Take care to bend the ends up, and don't puncture the foil, so the juice doesn't escape the packet while cooking.
 
Bake on an oven sheet or pizza pan. Starting with a cold oven and a frozen chicken breast right out of the freezer (c'mon, what bachelor remembers to thaw anything?), set your oven for 400 F and the timer for an hour.
 
I prefer to serve this with rice; put a mound of rice on the plate, pick open one end of the packet and pour the juice over the rice. Then open the packet the rest of the way and put the rest on the plate. Strangely, Worcestershire sauce is a good table condiment with this.
 
Note only the knife and the cutting surface and knife are dirtied in the prep process. No pans, unless the foil leaks. Fairly long cooking time, but tasty enough to prepare and serve for a prospective S.O. and even prospective mother-in-law.
 
Five stars. Joe Bob says check it out.

The sad thing is that Putin almost certainly hasn't had to invent anything in relation to control of the press and fixing elections. Those were all well established during the Soviet and Yeltsin eras, and he just inherited them. Of course as ex-KGB he was very familiar with them as well.
 
Things were really bad when Putin took over and he genuinely did a lot of good in stabilising the country. No one would have benefitted from Russia falling further into chaos in 2000, except maybe China. Even Gorbechev admits that Russia really wasn't ready for democracy and things were going to have to be rolled back. He ultimately may be taking notes from China and be building a compromise economy and polity.
 
Meh! Enough real world stuff! Play Vladimir Vladimirovich however you choose - evil bastard, paternalistic patriot, mind controlled 4th Reich puppet or Alien Android! It's sufficient to have had the discussion to explore the options.
 
Actually, here's an idea... in a superhero world maybe the relentlessly macho V.V.Putin is himself an enhanced being. I'd be thinking super-soldier/bionics, though Mind Control or super-persuasion powers could fit right in.
 
Or bitten by a radioactive bear! Yowza!

There's a range of more or less nasty options, depending on how you want your Putin to be.
 
I'd tend to have him tread very carefully in regards to Mother Russia's family. Genuine protective custody would be my default. He will want to be working with this person and not against her. Making it so she can't find them? I'd not buy that. Giving them new lives and guarding them carefully, as with MCU Hawkeye's family, which earns her gratitude and establishes a level of dependence? That's more Putin's style, IMHO.