csyphrett

With my domains out of the way, I am placing the Watch Tower at the center of the world. This is where the forces of good go to rearm and reequip. Millions of heroes/adventurers are constantly entering and leaving the city, and it has never fallen to any enemy force foolish enough to try to sack it because its inhabitants are armed to the teeth and inflict so many losses that an army could die on the fields outside the city before they could breach one of the walls. CES

Brady didn't actually lose anything in the collapse other than the stock which was inflated value, and probably his pay for his endorsement. He will probably lose more in the lawsuit. My boy is always don't get involved with anything like crypto or nfts because anything can make them worthless and you are out your investment faster than stocks CES

Cape Fear 3 1975- Wes woke up. He had to get his clothes out of the bathroom and figure out what he wanted to do. He decided that he should avoid the paper’s office. If someone was looking for him, that was where they would try to get a line on him. He was better off not letting them find him so easily. So he needed a typewriter to turn his story into something that could close some of the trouble off. Where could he get one? Did he dare go out and find one to bring back to the hotel? Should he be wandering around in the daytime at all? How many people would Delveccio spare to find and kill him? He decided that he should wait until nightfall and get a typewriter then. He could type the story up and hand it in to Clancy, or wait until the next day and just hand it in to the day desk. Delveccio might not know he survived the fire. Why give him a free pass of information by walking around where his minions watched everyone going about their business? Wes looked out the window. He could wait until nightfall. His flat form made it possible for him to sneak around even if he had to do it naked. He needed to research on clothing if he wanted to keep using the form to break into places and steal evidence. He wished he had paper to write down his thoughts. Then he could turn his thoughts into something that could be polished into a respectable story. He made a mental note to get some and a pen when he went out again. He put out the do not disturb sign on the door. He didn’t want the maids to see his bloody suit before he could get a replacement and throw it away. One call to the cops might be enough for Delveccio to home in on him. That was in the records too. He decided to try to make any kind of connection he could before trying to turn his story in. Once he had everything in hand, then he would fly over to the paper and drop the thing in Clancy’s tray. Wes wondered if he should have let things go. There were other stories he could have dug into. There were other menaces out there threatening the public. He had turned this into a crusade, and crusades got reporters killed. He decided he was in until he could do something to stop Delveccio. The mob boss would want him dead as a doornail after the theft of his records from his accountant. There was nothing he could do about that except hide until someone other than the local police took the gangster out of the picture. Once Delveccio was gone, Wes could turn his attention on the other criminal masterminds making Northern California a terrible place to live. He decided to be sneakier with his new body so he didn’t have to hide in a hotel room and hope that he wasn’t going to be murdered. He could use less excitement in his line of work. How did other heroes operate to keep their masked faces separate from their real faces so their enemies didn’t track them down and try to kill them. He knew what had happened to the Hazard Scouts, and the Mark, and knew that keeping things separate wasn’t a guarantee of safety. He figured his example should be someone like the Rocket. He flew around, he helped out, no one knew who he was. And the Rocket still flew across California. An interview with him would go in a file of other interviews with other reporters, but a talk about costumes might net Wes something to wear in his other form. Then he could worry about other issues involved with being a flying flatworm. And he didn’t exactly have a plan to keep living now that he was hidden from his hunters. The Rocket might be able to give him tips about keeping his real face separate from his masked face. That would be worth an interview in itself. He had no idea how he could arrange a talk with the old vigilante. He laughed at himself. He was too far away from talking to someone who had been flying the skies under his own power for thirty years. He might as well get on a plane and fly to New York in hopes of attracting the attention of the Mark. He might as well try to fly to the moon the next chance he got. Wes looked out the window and put his list of things to do in the front of his mind. As soon as he had a typewriter, he had to write his story to turn in before the deadline. Then he had to make sure he had pieces of the records ready as evidence. The main thing was keeping out of sight while the underworld looked for him. Delveccio would kill to get those records back. He had to get the story out while keeping his head from anyone trying to cut it off. Once everything was out in the open, he could go back to reporting on how the police handled things. He had no illusions that the police would pursue the mobster with due diligence. Just reporting on their corruption was enough to have them try to retaliate against you. The reporter had put abuses out on the wire and attracted the attention of others to the problem. Some things had changed, but not enough to give Wes confidence that the beat cop that picked him up would not hold him for Delveccio’s men to put a bullet in him inside the police station. It was better being out in the open and avoiding Delveccio as much as possible. He wanted to believe in the police, but he was in the camp that vigilantes at least tried to protect you from problems. They very rarely made your situation worse just from standing around. Wes liked the idea of helping people from the shadows. He doubted he would be taken seriously thanks to his power of turning into a frightened flying carpet. Wes nodded when he saw the sun going down. It was time for him to call Clancy, and get a typewriter. Then he could work on his story and turn it in. It might not get Delveccio off his back, but it would give him something else to think about in the immediate future. He pulled on his ragged suit. He needed to get new clothes and throw the old one away. It looked like someone had thrown a bucket of blood on it with knives cutting it. It belonged to a slasher movie villain, not an honest muckraker like himself. He decided that maybe clothes would be needed before the typewriter. Then he could get one of those and call Clancy. Then he could finally sit down and write his story. He took the records he had stolen and hid them under the bed frame. He doubted any hotel maid would move the bed to make it. He went to the window. Now all he had to do was wait until it was dark enough to conceal him and then he could jump from his window and fly down to the ground. How hard could that be? He didn’t want to think about what would happen if he jumped and his new ability didn’t come on. He would hit the street hard enough to be flat. And once he started shopping, he would have to think about staying concealed while he went about his business. He didn’t want a flood of hitmen following him to his new home and trying to put holes in him. He nodded when it looked dark enough to him. The stars were out but he should be a cloud against them and not some inhuman monster. He touched the tattoos on his hand and jumped. He flattened into his flying form and expanded out of his suit. He carried the clothes to another hotel across the way and descended that fire escape to the ground. He got dressed as soon as the effect wore off and started walking. Now his next trick was to break into some place and grab some fresh clothes without getting caught. Then he could scrounge up a typewriter. He could have made better time flying across the city, but he didn’t need to do that. It was better if he walked on his target when they were closing and then sneaking in. Then he could get what he needed and take off. The main problem was any place with an alarm system. He would have to learn the alarm codes, or smash and grab. His other self gave him a lot of options for exits. He could maybe squeeze through the cracks of doors if they were wider than he thought. He might not be able to get through a key hole and didn’t want to test that unless he had to. He definitely didn’t want to try to get through the key hole and turn back to his normal self. Either he would be squeezed out of the key hole, or cut in half when his body tried to expand into that tiny space. Finding out was something for emergencies while he was trying to get out of locked rooms with murderous thugs trying to kill him. Wes found a clothing store on the verge of closing. He transformed and skirted around the check out counter to slip into the changing room. He hid himself on the ceiling when he heard someone checking the changing rooms for customers so they could tell them to pay and get out. He waited until they were gone before dropping to the floor and condensing into his normal body. He listened as he got dressed again. He definitely needed some kind of costume that changed when he did. All of this dressing himself was starting to get on his nerves. Why couldn’t he have got a better power from the meteor strike. Turning yourself into a flying carpet was okay but he would rather be invisible and flying. That would be better than being a stretching menace in his opinion. He wondered if there was someone he could consult other than the Scouts. There had to be someone out there familiar with the problems involved and capable of coaching him into using his abilities better than what he was already doing. Was this how villains came into existence? First, they had a power. Then they started using it to take what they wanted, and then they became full fledged menaces. Was he becoming a menace with his need to conceal himself, and having to steal until he could get out of the trouble he was in? Did he want to know the answer to that question? He decided that when he had Delveccio off his case, he would throttle back on stealing, and doing unethical things that he would call someone else on. Until then, he had to do what he could to survive and get out of trouble so he didn’t wind up like Marsden. He didn’t know if his other self would help him survive being cut to pieces and dropped out in the middle of the ocean. And he didn’t want to find out. The lights went out and he heard the door locking up. He needed to wait before he tried searching for something to wear. There was always a chance they forgot something and came back inside the store. When he was sure he was alone, he exited the changing room and looked around. The place was empty and the alarms were only on the doors. He could get out without setting them off if he was careful. He expected that he could escape any jail if he wanted to as long as they didn’t know about his other form. It was better that no one knew about his shopping. No one could press charges if they didn’t know he had been on the job in the first place. He picked out two suits and everything that went with them. He put his new belongings in a bag to carry with him. He looked around for another exit other than the doors. The last thing he needed was to set off the alarms and let someone know that he had been stealing clothes to replace his rags. He found an air vent he could get into next to the back wall. He worked the screws out, and used his ability to get inside the metal shaft. He pulled the grate back into place and turned the screws the best he could with no fingers. He worked his way to another vent below the air conditioning unit on the roof. He changed back to normal and had to wait for a few minutes before he could change back and work the screws loose on this grate and move it out of the way. He put the cover back and flowed back to his room at the hotel. He stored his new belongings in the closet before thinking about how he could get a typewriter.

I need a third domain. Has anyone picked Exploration as a domain? CES

Since both truth and courage are gone, I am going to have to pick Righteousness as my second secondary domain. CES

As the god of heroes, Clarkent Kal's main goal in the world is to do the greatest good for the greatest number of people. His secondary domain is always about Justice, not law. CES

In this multiple world, only Clarkent Kal stands up for champions, adventurers, delvers, and anyone who wants to chase a dream for the greater good. If you are a paladin for the good, fighting a lost cause, putting down a lich in a crypt, and have a cleric to call him, maybe you too can be uplifted by the God of Heroes. CES

Read Burner by Greany. The Gray Man has been offered a job to strike at Russian intelligence finances. The result is a chase for a banker and his cell phone CES

I got a pacemaker, Cat got a blood clot. That's how it goes sometimes CES

Trapped in the hospital for the week. Watched a bunch of Ghost Adventures (Wife wanted it), Bones, Castle, Spongebob Squarepants (Wife wanted that), Forensic Files, Bad Boys 1 and 2, and Captain Marvel and rewatched part of Ant man and the Wasp. CES

The Republican speaker of the house here in NC is accused of using his position to trade favors for sex. Tim Moore is also one of the people behind HB2, and other things. CES

I'm willing to go forward whenever CES

Hunter Biden pleaded guilty to nonpayment of taxes, and entered a program to defer a charge of buying a gun while intoxicated and lying about it. Republicans lose their minds. He's the new Hilary. CES

The Title is the Making of Gallifrey. It looks like I am over. Just cut the last pick. CES

No surprise there. This was the base of the Lee-Ditko feud and why Ditko didn't work for Marvel for years until he created Speedball with Roger Stern's help. I admit that a lot of people outside comics wouldn't know that the three first Marvel creators didn't get along and Lee was responsible for DC and independents getting Kirby and Ditko work. CES

Cape Fear 2 1975- Wes decided he could hold out at the Capriano Hotel for the next few hours. He just needed a place where he could wash up and think about getting new clothes without having the police called on him. Some of the police worked for Delveccio. So he was on the east side of the city. The Capriano was on the west, near the beach. How did he get there without a car? Could he become the monster again and fly there? Was that part real? He decided it had to be since he had to pull his clothes on after reaching the streets. He didn’t relish flying around naked. He wondered if there was something he could use for clothing when he transformed. Maybe there was something out there he could cover himself with when he transformed but he had never heard of such a miracle substance. He decided to think about that when he got to the hotel and found an empty room he could hide in until he could figure out what he was going to write with the material he had stolen. Maybe he could call around and find something he could use. There had to be other heroes with clothing problems out there. How did they handle things? He touched the four diamonds on his hand and changed into his two dimensional other self. He pulled himself out of his clothes and wrapped part of flat body around them and his files. He took to the air and headed toward the beach. Wes swam through the air. He was glad it was nightfall hiding him, but he really needed clothes he could wear in his flat form. He reached the hotel roof in plenty of time. He also didn’t want his power running out while he was doing something extremely dangerous. Maybe some kind of rubber suit that stretched when he stretched and returned to normal when returned to normal would be the way to go. How did he get something like that? He pulled on his clothes on the roof and went to the fire escape. He climbed down until he reached a window at the end of a hall. He jimmied the lock with his pocket knife and climbed through the window. He needed to find an empty room without letting the clerk know he was hanging out on the premises. He might be able to use his power to sneak around and search the register. He could just sign himself into a room and then sign himself out when he was ready to go. Being flat would make him hard to see, and he could stretch a lot so he could hide most of himself while he was getting a room. He nodded to himself. He could do that instead of his original plan of just taking a room and hoping he wouldn’t be discovered by housekeeping. And staying under a fake name would help him against Delveccio when the man got around to looking for him. If they checked the car after the explosion, they knew he was still out there with the material he had taken. At this point, he wasn’t sure he could admit he had the material. He paused as he entered the stairwell. He sat down on the steps. Did he actually have any proof of wrongdoing since he had taken the evidence from someone’s home? Had he poisoned the well with his actions? Was he going to end up like Marsden? He still had to get a room, and get some rest. Then he could puzzle out the rest when he was fresh and ready to go. At least every time he transformed back, he felt better. Maybe turning into a flying ribbon was healing up the damage from the car crash faster. He liked that. At one point, he couldn’t walk, and now he could. He still had some pain, but it was nothing like what he had felt right before he had been struck by that meteor. He worked his way down to the lobby of the hotel and cracked the door open to look out. He saw the desk clerk sitting behind the desk, book in hand. He needed to sign in while the guy was distracted. How did he do that? The clerk was bound to see him even if he was flat against the floor. Why were things always tougher than they had to be. Wes looked at the clerk. The man refused to move under the intense gaze. His nose was in his book. He touched the diamonds on his hand and slipped out of the stairwell. He reached out and took a better look at the clerk. The man was sleeping. That made things easier. He grabbed the registration book and slipped back into the stairwell. He looked for an empty room to match the keys on the pegboard behind the clerk. He filled in a fake name and an address for one of those rooms with a tentacle formed from a corner of his body. He snuck the book back and grabbed the room key. He waited for the transformation to wear off before putting himself back together and heading up to his new room. So he had two goals. The first was to get out from under Delveccio’s sights and publish his story with the checked over information as a basis. Either that was enough to spur the police into taking a better look at the mob boss, or it wasn’t. In any case, he would have to look for reprisals for the rest of his life. No gangster sat there and took it while a reporter pried into their affairs and wrote stories about them. Examples needed to be made like Marsden. The second thing was to get some flexible clothing for the weird other form he had. Once he had that, he could try to use the flying flatworm to keep digging into any mobster that happened to set up in town. A mask to cover his face would be helpful if his power ran out and someone saw him doing the type of extracurricular digging that got reporters news prizes, and papers sued for slander. He doubted he would step out in public like the old Scouts, or the Mark. It was rough enough to be a reporter. Being a reporter and a masked man seemed a little too much. He wanted to write his stories and blend in as much as possible. Throwing down with someone like Doctor Sybil was not something he was ready to try. It was good thing the Doctor was dead and buried on Mars. Everyone knew he was there. No one knew which mountain he was buried under. Wes had no desire to look for the body either. Sybil had fought against the Mark during the war, trying to carve out his own empire in the middle of what Hitler was trying to do. The fact that he almost killed the Mark, and had killed some of the other heroes of those years earned him no pity from the reporter. And he had succeeded in forcing the Mark out of the public spotlight as a force for good even if he couldn’t enjoy that victory. Wes took off his clothes and thought about washing them. He decided he could wait on that until he knew what he was going to do. He did look in the mirror and found he was covered in bruises and cuts but they looked days old, not what he had earned in his trip down the mountain. Could the transformations be putting him back together, fixing the injuries he had taken? It could be. No one knew what powers did to a person. He might have lucked out and got something that would heal him up if he didn’t die immediately. Maybe he could take a bullet, but decided it was foolish to try to find out how much of a shot he could take. If he got shot, and healed that up after becoming the flatworm, that was one thing. Jumping in front of the bullet was just asking for trouble in his opinion. He wondered how heroes found out what they could do. That was something he could write a story around as long as he didn’t reveal his new power. He decided to shower and get cleaned up. He would have to get clothes from somewhere else before he could back out in public. He had to plan on how to get around anyone watching the paper so he could turn in his work. He could write his story anywhere, but he had to show the evidence and turn it in person. He couldn’t expect the paper to open itself to a lawsuit just on his word. He had to back up anything he said because the truth was an ultimate defense against such a lawsuit. Wes settled on the bed and decided to get some rest. He didn’t have a long time before someone tried to find him. Eventually, Delveccio was going to learn he was still alive. They would then try to fill out him full of holes. How much could his other form take if someone did shoot at him? Could he heal that up using the tattoo to change? Wes scratched his eyebrow and thought about what he could do. Maybe he should go on the offensive and do something to Delveccio to persuade him to stop looking for him. What could he do where he didn’t end up like Marsden? He thought about his new ability to break in some places because he could fly, and was like a blanket. He could elongate some of the corners to grab things, but he didn’t seem to have a lot of fine control. He didn’t seem to need to breathe, so what could he do with that? He already had records that he could publish if he could get to the newspaper bullpen. He could write everything up and then use his stolen files as a check. He could give copies to the police, but everyone knew they supported Delveccio and would try to stop him for their mob boss. He didn’t know what he could do next. He had to keep moving if he didn’t want to be taken in. Even though he had a room under a fake name, eventually someone would turn him in and goons would be on his neck. He thought he could get to the paper if he could get across the city to the newspaper without changing back in the middle of the flight. He could use the roof access to get down to the bullpen and his desk. The only problem was would there be someone waiting to take him away once he tried to type everything up and finish his story. He would have to be ready to call up his flat body to do things before he could be exposed in the public. He didn’t like the nudity aspect of things either. Turning back in the middle of doing things could be embarrassing or problematic depending on what he was doing at the time. He didn’t want to be naked in the middle of breaking into Delveccio’s house. Wes could get a typewriter and write his story in his stolen room. Then all he had to do was submit the story with copies of his evidence. Then he could just watch out for the goons because they would be looking for him to retaliate. They couldn’t let him live to testify on the authenticity of the records he stole. He wasn’t a member of the police. It didn’t matter how the record fell into his hands as far as proving things against Delveccio. He would face jail for burglary while the mobster faced jail for money crimes. And if they went to the same prison after their trials, Wes would be dead in a matter of days unless he used his ability to escape. He gazed up at the ceiling and wondered how long could he stay in the hotel before he was reported to Delveccio, and someone showed up to kill him. How long would it take for him to write his story? How long did his transformation last? What was going on with that? Would it kill him? The meteor strike Clancy told him about had to be the explanation for his new ability. It didn’t tell him how long he had to live if the ability went rogue on him. He needed to push for someone other than the city police to investigate his claims. He needed to find a better place to hide. He needed a place only he could get in and out of with his new flattening power. He needed not to wind up like Marsden. Wes decided that if he wanted to keep using the flat body, he needed to talk to an expert who could point him to something he could use. He couldn’t call Mr. Robot since the murder of the Hazard Scouts. Who else could he call? Flanagan Solutions might be the people to call about a sizechanging suit. There were rumors that they had come up with clothes to handle powers since the war. They might be able to give him something he could use. At the worst, they could direct him to another company he could use to get the thing he needed if he wanted to keep using his power. He made a note to check into them. If he could get them to help him out, that would make things that much easier for him. He wondered if there was a story behind the company. There were rumors that the first Rocket was connected to them, and some guy in armor in New York. How many other heroes did they help out over the years? He could do a set of stories based on that if he could turn anything up. He could follow links to everyone to whom they had provided equipment. If they helped him, he could write it from an insider’s perspective. He doubted they would want this business in a spotlight. He had heard rumors but Flanagan kept their problems to themselves. There had to be a connection to the Rocket. Why didn’t they use that to get more business for their company? He decided that was some of the questions he could try to answer while he was writing their story. A noise came from the hall. Wes glanced at the door. Maybe laying on a bed in sight of the door was a bad idea. He slid off the top of the bed and slipped into the shadow of the mattress. He waited for someone to break in his door. The sound of someone retreating from his door caused him to breathe again. What would he have done if it was someone looking for him? He would have had to use his flat body to attack. How effective would that be against someone with a gun? Wes frowned. Maybe he should try to leave town. Maybe that would throw Delveccio off enough that he could start his career over in some other city. He couldn’t count on that. They had run him off a road and then shot at him when he tried to get away from the crash. A small forest fire starting hadn’t stopped them from trying to kill him. If the explosion from the meteor and his body change hadn’t happened, he would be dead because his legs had stopped working. Now he was hunkered down, but eventually he would have to move. He wasn’t looking forward to that. Either way, he couldn’t call Clancy from the room. The lines could be checked, and that would lead anyone with the knowhow back to the hotel, and then the false registration. He could expect gunmen to show him the bottom of the ocean after that. He could call from a phone booth across town. He could return to his new room with a typewriter. He could write the story and get everything done before Delveccio could stop him. The rest would have to play out in the court. He might be just as much as a fugitive as Delveccio, but he would be alive and on the run with some worry of killers trying to track him down to settle the score. He should have went into some other line of work. You didn’t worry about people trying to kill you when you worked in a factory. Wes closed his eyes and tried to get some sleep. The next day would be busy.

I am going to option Quib-Quib from the Circuits of the Lion CES

I need three options. I think I will pick the Master to get on the time shennigans, the daleks who want to use the genesis device against the klingons, and Space Ghost who is trying to figure out what is going on CES

I think i will be at three picks by the time I get home. I'll try to catch up when i get home CES

Thanks Cygnia. I have seen him in old television shows like the Twilight Zone and didn't know his name. CES

I am going to option Klingons. CES

Who's the guy behind Cosell? I feel like I know him but I can't place the face. CES

About the Tesla thing, two things from recent memory stick out in regards to accidents and such. Musk ordered the radar taken out to make a cheaper car. That contributes to the car not being able to tell if you are driving into a lake, or a wall, another car, whatever might be on the road. Autodriving Teslas have been shown to slow down traffic because they can't read signals from other drivers. I know I want a car like the ones in Minority Report, Star Trek, and so forth, but I don't think Musk is the right guy to spearhead such an action when the computerized map (which is one of the things used for the car) at the job will take a delivery two streets away and show that it is five counties away, or tell the driver to cut through someone's house. CES

You seem way too smart to have ever been an MP. CES

I think I am down three picks, so I need my lower deck guy, and two options. I am optioning Conrad the planet maker, and the High Evolutionary. My lower deck guy is the T-800 CES