csyphrett

The Capybara is at home on land or sea. And for the villain encountering him, capable of scent marking.
CES

The hero known as Master Bengal is known to be a buddhist, thought to be a monk descended from the Shaolin, and practices the Tiger style of kung fu. Master Bengal has displayed chi mastery and his Tiger Claw technique is known to rip an opponent to shreds.
CES
  

The hero known as Vasu Shastra is able to create objects by warping reality to fit what he needs. He is a support member for the group, but villains have learned that a builder with a good control of his power can wreck things.
CES   

Byangoma makes his living as a fortune teller, helping those in need with kind words and necessary wisdom. He has joined the rest of the heroes where his ability to divine answers and know the future has allowed him to stay one step ahead of criminal schemes.
 
Byangoma passes himself off as a beggar, but a bird motif is always present.
CES     

That last tourist needed a little more ketchup
CES

That last tourist needed a little more ketchup
CES

The villainess  known as Polka Dot loves to lead people on a merry dance parade with her accordian. She has been known to snarl up areas for hours as her victims cavort along behind her.
CES  

Check your roster. Everyone should have nine picks.  The last pick is wed at five pm. 
Psybolt
Location: Tombstone
Cowboys
1 Mattie Ross (True Grit)
2 Tom Sawyer (Tom Sawyer)
3 Laura Ingalls (Little House on the Prairie) 
4 Hawk (The Revenant)
5 Tonto (The Lone Ranger)
Monster: Pennywise (It)
options
1 Little Bill Dagget (Unforgiven)
2
3
 
Old Man
Location: Devil's Tower
Cowboys
1 Mani (Brotherhood of the Wolf)
2 Brisco County Jr (adventures of Brisco County Jr)
3 The Lady (Quick and the Dead)
4 Dr King Schultz (Django Unchained)
5 Hannie  Caulder (Hannie Caulder)
Monster
options
1 Micheala Quinn (Medicine Woman)
2
3
 
Pattern Ghost
Location: Hell on Wheels
Cowboys
1 James West (Wild Wild West)
2 Kwai Chang Caine (Kung Fu)
3 Brett Maverick (Maverick)
4 Thor Gunderson/The Swede (Hell on Wheels)
5 Captain Nemo (Mysterious Island)
Monster The Thing (The Thing)
options
1 Dr. Moreau
2 The Pinkertons
3 
 
Csyphrett
Location Deadwood
Cowboys
1 Rowdy Yates (Rawhide)
2 The Man with No Name (A Fistful of Dollars)
3 Preacher (Pale Rider)
4 Josey Wales (The Outlaw Josey Wales)
5 Will Munny (Unforgiven)
Monster
options
1 Jonah Hex
2 Kid Colt
3 Rawhide Kid
 
Doc Shadow
Location: Abilene, Kansas 
Cowboys
1 G.W. McLintock  (McLintock)
2 John T Chance (Rio Bravo)
3 Jake Cutter (The Comancheros)
4 Cole Thorton (El Dorado)
5  Nathan Brittles (She Wore A Yellow Ribbon)
Monster
options
1 Kirby York (Fort Apache)
2 The Ringo Kid (Stagecoach)
3 The Calvary
 
Sociotard
Location: Pueblo Village, New Mexico
Cowboys
1 Liz (Brimstone)
2 Sam Jones/Chaa-duu-ba-its-iidan (The Missing)
3
4
5
Monster :He Who Walks Behind the Rows (Children of the Corn)
options
1 The Ben Wade Gang (3:10 to Yuma)
2
3
 
Cancer
Location: Fort Sumner, New Mexico
Cowboys
1 Pecos Bill
2 Yosemite Sam
3 El Kabong
4 Sheriff Woody
5
Monster Judge Roy Bean
options
1 Murder Steer
2 El Muerto
3
 
Watchman Mark IV
Location San Francisco, 1855
Cowboys
1 Jim Duncan (High Plains Drifter)
2 The Sundance Kid (Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid)
3 John 'Doc' Holliday (Tombstone) 
4 Fee 'the Kid'Herod (Quick and the Dead)
5
Monster
options
1
2
3
 
Clnicholsusa
Location Kansas City, Missouri
Cowboys
1 Jess Haywood (Shakiest Gun in the West)
2 Jacob McCandles (Big Jake)
3 Thomas van Leek (El Diablo)
4 Slim Honeycutt (Cowboys)
5 Charlie Schwartz (Cowboys)
Monster The Grand High Witch
options
1 Deekin Scalesinger
2
3

2
We took the train up to the Upper Qiloth. We talked about anything but the case.
Omes wondered how many aircraft plied the air over the country. His search for the
missing aircraft from a former case continued, but so far he had not found a match.
 
It was the same with the face of the man we had talked to before he tried to machine
gun us in a trap set in a warehouse on the same case. Omes was abusing his illegal
link to Metropole to find the man, but nothing had come of it.
 
The explanation for these two facts was simple. The man had never been arrested, and
the numbers Omes had gleaned belonged to some other aircraft.
 
He might have to start over if he wanted to hunt down the mastermind, and he wasn’t
ready to give up yet.
 
I was of two minds about this.
 
As a cat, I was proud that he was hunting prey on his own. He couldn’t rely on me to
watch out for him and show him how to do things forever. He had to take down prey
on his own.
 
On the other hand, the man he was hunting was ruthless and had tried to kill both
of us with exploding minions, and a machine gun in the middle of a warehouse. He
could easily get killed trying to hunt this murderer down.
 
As his guardian, it was my duty not to let that happen. I hadn’t figured out how to
accomplish that yet.
 
The train rolled to a stop into the Weymouth station. I waited for Omes to open the
door for our berth before stepping out in the hall. Omes dropped the strap of a bag
across his body as he followed me down the length of the car to the door.
 
He had told me he put contents of the bag together to help us since we didn’t know
when we would run into another scheme of our mastermind. He didn’t want to have
to deal with someone burning up in front of us if he could stop it.
 
I dropped down to the platform, tail twitching. No one seemed to be looking for us.
That was good.
 
Omes stepped down. He looked around. He pulled his bowler on and headed for the
station’s exit.
 
I followed. I kept an eye out. No one was supposed to know we were coming. If
someone did, they had gotten it from Almeins. That could lead to another set of
conclusions to be proven.
 
“Hello, boys,” said Constable Barhart. She wore the great blue coat of her profession
and giant hat over her short hair. She smiled at us as we stopped short.
 
“Cat,” said Toby, the police dog. His furry bulk was a pile on the seat of the police
carriage. You couldn’t see his eyes through the hair, but his brain was cycling as he 
took in our information.
 
“Dog,” I said back. “Move over.”
 
He shifted his bulk enough to allow me to bound up on the bench. I settled with tail
twitching as I sat.
 
“Constable Barhart,” said Omes. He tipped his hat back with his ungauntleted hand.
“What do we owe the pleasure?”
 
“I was just curious how you were going to find this memory,” said Barhart. “The
Inspector doesn’t want you wandering loose on your own also.”
 
“Inspector Stroud still angry about what happened the last time we were here?,” said
Omes.
 
“Yes,” said Toby.
 
The last case we had conducted in the Upper Q involved a magician summoning
strips from a soldier that he had stabbed. We had tracked the man and his gang down
to his headquarters. We breached the invisible wall around the barn being used and
then a fight broke out. Omes killed the mastermind by allowing the field to slice the
man in half. Stroud was not pleased by that.
 
The situation was made worse by my old army trainer seizing everything and giving
Omes and me a pass for what we had done despite the illegality of it.
 
“He’s even more angry at the Army, and the old lady doctor in charge,” said Barhart.
 
“Dr. Karen is a little eccentric,” I said.
 
“Is that right, Fluffy Wuffy?,” Constable Barhart asked with a smile.
 
“You would not be the first person in a uniform I have left to rot somewhere,” I said.
I rubbed an ear.
 
“Touchy,” said Toby. “I got Comfy Womfy.”
 
“Did you like it?,” I asked.
 
“Yep,” said Toby. He shifted slightly. He gave me the dog grin of his breed.
 
“I hate you,” I said.
 
“I know,” said Toby.
 
“This is all well and good,” said Omes. “I don’t think we need a Metropole escort
everywhere.”
 
“Sorry,” said Barhart. “We have our orders. We’re to keep an eye on you no matter
what.”
 
“Since you’re here,” said Omes. He climbed up in the back of the carriage. “We need
a lift to the Daniels estate.”
 
“And why would you need that?,” asked Barhart.
 
“I want to see the lay of the land,” said Omes. “I can’t investigate from out here.”
 
“We can’t let you break in,” said Barhart.
 
“Of course not,” said Omes. “We’ll do our burgling when you have some other
job to do.”
 
“That doesn’t make me want to let you out of my sight,” said Barhart.
 
“Don’t worry, Constable,” said Omes. “If we uncover some criminal conspiracy,
you’ll be the first to know.”
 
“That definitely doesn’t make me want to let you out of my sight,” said Barhart.
 
Omes waved a hand at her to drive. She gave him a look of irritation.
 
“Go ahead, Cassie,” said Toby. “The quicker we give them the tour, the faster we’ll
be shut of them.”
 
“All right,” said Barhart. “But no criminal activities.”
 
“We just got here,” said Omes. “How much can we do with you two sitting on us?”
 
The dog made a sneeze bark of a noise that conveyed his feelings perfectly.
 
Barhart climbed up on the bench. She whistled at the clanking horses that pulled the
carriage. The mechanical horses started down the road, pulling us along stolidly.
 
I let my senses roam out. Several different animals walked close by, but didn’t want
to challenge us. Hordes of insects went about their business. Several humans were
mating out of normal sight.
 
Constable Barhart pulled the carriage to a stop in front of a gate in a stone wall.
She looked over her shoulder.
 
“As you can see, there’s no way for you to get in,” said Barhart. “I think you can go
home with a clear conscience.”
 
“Wait here,” said Omes. He swung over the side of the carriage. He pulled his coat
around him as he walked over to the gate. I jumped down and followed at a safe
distance.
 
He pushed the call button for the house. He stood back and waited.
 
“What are you doing?,” I asked.
 
“Seeing if anybody is home,” said Omes.
 
“Why?,” I asked.
 
“Because knocking on the door is better than climbing the wall with the authority
sitting at our backs,” said Omes.
 
“What happens if no one comes to the gate?,” I asked.
 
“Then we head back into town and get some sleep,” said Omes. He smiled. “We still
have three more days before we have to head home.”
 
“Don’t freeze the police and break in,” I said.
 
“I would never,” said Omes. The rest of him said that had been what he was thinking.
 
“A log lies better than you,” I said.
 
Omes made a noise and pressed the button again. He watched the grounds intently.
 
“We might have to accost Miss Daniels in the street in the morning,” said Omes.
 
“We’re going into town and getting a room?,” I asked.
 
“Let’s do that,” said Omes. He took one last look through the bars of the gate. He
frowned at what he saw. “Let’s go.”
 
I followed him back to the carriage. He climbed in the back. I jumped up on the
bench. I leaned against the big hairpile and closed my eyes.
 
I already knew Omes was planning something. I could feel it. His brain had cycled
down like it always did when he was thinking about doing something risky. I had
a feeling that as soon as he could get clear of me, and the local representatives
of Metropole, he would be back at that gate and breaking into the place.
 
I could put him to sleep. That would take care of the next eight hours. He wouldn’t
like it, but it was better than attacking a place in the middle of the night when you
didn’t know what you were getting into.
 
I had done enough of that when I was in the Army.
 
Barhart rolled into town, pulling up in front of the only hotel I could see. I jumped
down and looked around. Living creatures, human and otherwise, had left their traces
along the way, but nothing was close.
 
“Thanks for the ride, Constable Barhart,” said Omes. He dropped down to the street.
“We plan to move out in the morning and find out what we need.”
 
“We’ll be here to pick you up,” said Barhart. “You don’t make a move without us.”
 
“Wouldn’t think of it,” said Omes. He waved as he walked into the hotel.
 
I slipped through the door after him. No hands meant I couldn’t open the door on my
own. I trailed behind him to the counter.
 
“We need a room,” Omes told the counter man.
 
I jumped up on the counter. I recognized the counter man. He recognized me.
 
“It’s you,” said the counter man.
 
“Yes,” I said. “We need a room, please.”
 
“All right,” said the counter man. He handed over a key. “How long are you staying
this time?”
 
“Two days maybe,” said Omes. He took the key and put it in his pants pocket. “Thank
you.”
 
“No problem,” said the counter man. “Enjoy your stay.”
 
Omes led the way to the stairs. He headed up to the room. I kept on his trail. He
opened the door for me and we went into the room. He flung himself down on the
bed.
 
“What are you thinking?,” I said. I jumped in the window sill. I balled myself up to
nap.
 
“I think we need to get a look at Celeste Daniels,” said Omes. “That lies the key to
moving forward.”
 
“How do we do that?,” I asked.
 
“I don’t know yet,” said Omes. “When I do, I’ll need you to take a look at her. Maybe
this is something natural.”
 
“You know something I don’t,” I said.
 
He didn’t answer the accusation. He closed his eyes and went to sleep.
 
I closed mine and tried to drift off. Cats are known for being able to sleep anywhere
at any time. On the other hand, we don’t need to sleep much in any given day.
 
Omes was gone when I woke up minutes later. I growled to myself. I should have
known he would try to get into the estate without me.
 
And I couldn’t open the door to get out of the room. I was trapped like a rat.
What were my options?
 
I looked around the room. I found the screen. There was only one thing to do. I had
to call for help. Who did I call?
 
I only knew three people in the countryside. And the dog. I doubted he had a screen
to answer my call. Stroud would be more trouble. Barhart would be home by now and
 
I didn’t have that number. That left the third person.
 
I pawed the screen and dialed the army base switchboard. I hoped she was home and
could help me.
 
“Hello, how can I direct your call?,” asked the operator.
 
“I need to talk to Dr. Karen,” I said. “It’s an emergency.”
 
The voice put me on hold. I waited patiently for someone to come back to the phone.
 
I had to get out of the hotel room and track Omes down. I doubted he had decided
to have an early morning snack.
 
“Hello, Witsend,” said Dr. Karen. “How can I help you?”
 
“I need you to come to my hotel room,” I said. “I think Omes is doing something
stupid.”
 
“I’ll be right there.”

The Copper Breach
1
I sat in the sun window and watched the street outside. Dust floated in the air. I
rubbed my ear with a paw. A cart rolled up outside. The visitor looked up where the
house should be, but Addison had the house spinning outside time and space.
 
“Are you expecting company?,” I asked my roommate Omes. He looked up from the
papers on his desk. His expression said no.
 
“Addison?,” he asked. He pushed his work into a case and placed the case between
his desk and the wall.
 
“You have one man at the dock,” said the voice of our landlord. “Should I allow him
inside?”
 
“Let’s see what he wants,” said Omes. “Maybe a case will clear some of the cobwebs
in my brain.”
 
The house stopped spinning with a thump. The outer door opened so our guest could
enter. As soon as he was in the foyer, Addison started spinning the house again.
 
Omes stood, hands in his pockets. He watched our visitor step in the parlor. I waited
in the window sill. If our guest turned violent, Omes depended on me to wreck him
before he could do anything.
 
It was my pleasure.
 
“Murdock Omes?,” asked the visitor.
 
“That’s right,” said Omes. He extended a hand to point at the couch we kept for
visitors and my napping when I wasn’t in the sun window. “Please sit down. What
can I do for you?”
 
“You seem young to be an investigator,” said the man. He wore sandy boots, dark
breeches and shirt. A tan coat completed the ensemble.
 
“I get that a lot,” said Omes. He smiled. “What can I do for you?”
 
“I don’t know,” said the visitor. “Now that I see you, I don’t know if you can help me.
This is about a woman.”
 
“I see,” said Omes. His expression said he didn’t see at all. He looked at me. I rubbed
an ear. Normally, I like to enjoy my time off. I decided that maybe I should take
things in my paws.
 
At the very least, it would get rid of the oaf so I could go back to napping and
enjoying the sun on my fur.
 
“Why don’t you state the problem?,” I said. “Then all of us will know that you’re
beyond help, and you can quit wasting my time.”
 
He looked at me with irritation. I looked back at him with boredom. I was getting
ready to suggest to his nerves that his face was on fire. That should liven things up
for a few minutes.
 
“Dr. Witsend is right,” said Omes. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what the problem
is.”
 
“My name is Bernard Almeins,” said our visitor. “I am engaged to be married to a
young woman named Celeste Daniels. The problem is Celeste says she doesn’t know
me, and I should quit trying to talk to her.”
 
“That seems straightforward,” I said. “Find yourself a new mate.”
 
“I can’t,” said Almeins. “I can’t move forward unless Celeste dissolves our contract,
but since she acts like we never met before I ran into her, there’s no way I can get her
to listen and sign the paperwork. And I don’t want to do that. I want to know what
happened to her. I feel like something has. I think someone erased her memory of
me.”
 
“That’s a strong conclusion to arrive at, Mr. Almeins,” said Omes. “Do you have any
evidence for it?”
 
“I have pictures of us together,” said Almeins. “I have letters. I have a souvenir of a
trip we took together. And she didn’t recognize me. I looked her in the eye, and she
seemed afraid of me for accosting her in the street.”
 
“What do you think, Witsend?,” asked Omes. The neurons fired in his brain. His
blood was stirring up like an old hound on the hunt. He wanted to take a look at this
at the very least.
 
“There are several medical and chemical conditions that could cause a partial
amnesia,” I allowed. I have never heard of one subject being deleted except as
something from a Ministry of War test trial to redact specific information from the
subject while leaving the rest of the brain intact. It usually caused the subject to fall
into a paranoid state from the paperwork I saw.
 
“Where did this take place?,” asked Omes. “We’re going to have to look at this
woman for ourselves.”
 
“Also there might not be a cure for this condition,” I warned. “You might have to
consult with an advocate and see what you can do about your legal responsibilities.”
 
“I live in the Upper Qiloth,” said Almeins. He handed over a card. “That’s my address
at home.”
 
“Where does the young woman live?,” asked Omes. “We might need to look around
her place to check for any chemical problem.”
 
Almeins took the card back and wrote on it with a pen. He handed the card back. 
 
“All right,” said Omes. He put the card on his desk. “We’ll go up to the Upper Qiloth
for you and see what we can see. I can’t guarantee that we’ll be able to do anything
to repair your relationship.”
 
“I just want to know what happened,” said Almeins. “Two weeks ago, we were
talking about our wedding, and now this.”
 
“Has anything happened in the last two weeks?,” asked Omes.
 
“Not as far as I know,” said Almeins. “Her father has come across some copper
deposits on their land, but I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
 
“Did he find the copper first, or did your fiancé lose her memory first,” asked Omes.
 
“I don’t know,” said Almeins. “I think it was about the same time, but I’m not
sure because I hadn’t talked to Celeste for a couple of days which was odd,
and then I heard about the mine.”
 
“All right,” said Omes. “I want you to go home. I have some things to do here
in the city, and Dr. Witsend will have to rearrange his schedule. We’ll be up to
look at your young lady the day after tomorrow. Whatever we can do, we will.”
 
“Thank you,” said Almeins, standing up. His gaze fell on a captured explosion sitting
on the shelf by Omes’s desk. It rested next to the skull Omes had found earlier. “What
is that?”
 
“A souvenir from a case.” Omes smiled. “Don’t worry about things. We’ll do what
we can for your problem, or recommend someone who can do something.”
 
“Thank you, Master Omes,” said Almeins. “I would like to know what happened.”
 
“Who doesn’t?,” said Omes. A smile crossed his eleven year old features. He gestured
for the man to precede him out of the parlor. There was a thump of Addison touching
reality, then Omes was back with a touch of glee in his air.
 
“What do you make of it, Witsend?,” asked Omes. He rubbed his hands together.
 
I rubbed an ear, gave him a look, and then closed my eyes. I leaned against the
sun window to enjoy the beam of light on my fur.
 
“Oh, I see,” said Omes. “You’re going for this is a nothing case that will have nothing
consequences.”
 
I didn’t admit that was what I thought.
 
“But you see, I don’t care,” said Omes. “We’re looking into it anyway.”
 
“I thought you were a detective, not a fixer of lost romance,” I said. I decided
to enjoy what I could of the Sun Window. We weren’t going up to the Upper
Q in a few days. I could already see that.
 
We were going as soon as Omes made arrangements for things he was working on,
and as soon as I called Elga.
 
“This has something more about it,” said Omes. He sat down at his desk. He touched
the screen that waited for him to dial out. Another screen ran faces through it. A third
had been set up to search property files. “And I can’t do anything until my searches
come back.”
 
Constable Barhart appeared on the screen. She smiled when she saw Omes at the
desk. Her boss, Inspector Strode, had been our biggest helper in Metropole, but we
had soured the relationship by killing a summoner and involving the army.
 
“Murdock Omes,” said Barhart. “How have you been?”
 
“I’m fine, Constable,” said Omes. “We’re coming up to the U. Q. We have a case
there. I was wondering if you could tell me anything about the Daniels family. I
understand Mr. Daniels found a copper strike recently.”
 
“That’s right,” said Barhart. “Cedric Daniels made his money in mining. He owns a
lot of land on the edge of the Bend. Sometimes things pop up there that he turns it
into a small fortune.”
 
“Family?,” said Omes.
 
“Married, wife is a society witch. One daughter, Celeste. She is supposed to be
married to a Bernie Almeins in a month from the gossip columns. He’s rich too. Made
his money in spools if I remember right.”
 
“Spools?,” asked Omes.
 
“He supplies most of the world with them from my understanding,” said Barhart.
“What’s the case?”
 
“I’m supposed to find a lost memory,” said Omes.
 
“Good luck with that,” said Barhart. “Let me know if you need my help.”
 
“Thank you, Constable Barhart,” said Omes. “I’m sure that this will be an easy fix.”
 
She laughed at him before she cut the connection.
 
“So part of the story checks out,” said Omes. He looked up train routes to take us up
north from the city.
 
“Are you sure you want to get involved in this?,” I asked. I opened my eyes.
 
“If not us, who?,” he asked.
 
I looked at him with I hope the condescending stare that cats have favored for
generations.
 
“Please, call Elga, so we can leave,” said Omes. He stood up. “I want to wrap this
up as fast as possible.”
 
“All right,” I said. “Things should be light for the next few days anyway.”
 
I dropped down from the sill, crossed the room, jumped up on the desk. I pawed
Elga’s number on the screen. She was off today too. If she was home, that would
make things easier.
 
“Dr. Witsend?,” said Elga Spangler. Her bright eyes and short blond hair gave her a
look of energy. She was my nurse/assistant/office manager. “I thought you were
taking a lazy day.”
 
“That’s every day, Mrs. Spangler,” put in Omes.
 
“We’re going out of town, Elga,” I said. I ignored my roommate for the moment. “I
need you to trade around for say three days.”
 
“I’ll call the office and check,” said Elga. “Another case, eh?”
 
“Omes thinks he can fix broken hearts now,” I said. I rubbed an ear.
 
“Overconfidence,” said Elga. “I’ll fix it for you, Dr.”
 
“Thank you,” I said. I cut the connection.
 
“Overconfidence,” said Omes. “I don’t have that.”
 
I gave him another look.
 
“We can catch the train and be in the Upper Q by midnight,” said Omes. “And we
will have time to eat before we go.”
 
“The Club?,” I asked.
 
“The Club,” agreed Omes.

1
He felt the tugging on his form again. He looked around at his home. He had finally
gotten the flowers just so. If he left, he would have to start over.
 
His tiny space shook from the outside pushing on it. If he didn’t stop that, his place
could be completely destroyed. He couldn’t have that. He hadn’t put a tree in and
nurtured it to lose it to the world.
 
He needed to look into things. Why couldn’t his space not be linked to the Earth. It
was at the edge of the Dreamtime. If he could move it, he wouldn’t have to put up
with repairing everything when there was trouble on Earth.
 
He reached into the air and pulled open a hole. He stepped through the opened door
from his garden to the real world. He took a moment to link to the people in the city
as he looked around for the trouble that had summoned him.
 
He paused at the sight of men in identical tan body suits with face masks running into
the local stores and coming out with loot in their hands. He surveyed the scene. The
group of identical men were everywhere.
 
A group of the robbers surrounded a security guard trying to stop them. The uniform
went down under the onslaught of hundreds of fists and kicks.
 
“Hey!,” he shouted as he charged forward. “Stop that.”
 
All of the masked men turned at the sound of his voice. They smiled at him. He didn’t
like that at all.
 
“So it’s Tribe, is it?,” said the group, each mouth taking a syllable of the speech. It
was like listening to a wave at a sports stadium. “Come to stop me, wanker?”
 
“I guess so,” said Tribe. He wondered where that name had come from. He had not
called himself that. “I want you to stop what you’re doing. You can leave after that.”
 
“You want me to stop what I’m doing?,” said the group in a mockish high voice.
“And you’ll let me leave? Really?”
 
“Yes,” said Tribe. Why did these humans make things so difficult?
 
“I don’t think you understand,” said the man in tan. “I’m Clonus. I can do whatever
I want, whenever I want. Why don’t you stop a purse snatcher or something? That’s
about your speed.”
 
“I’m not trying to arrest you,” said Tribe. “I just want you to stop doing this and move
on and do something useful. If I have to resort to violence, you won’t like it.”
 
“You and what army, wanker?,” asked Clonus. More of him appeared as some of the
group continued to carry off their loot.
 
“Is that how it’s going to be?,” asked Tribe. He looked down at his thin, brown hands
at the end of  his thin arms. He hated using violence. “All I want is a peaceful
resolution to this problem.”
 
“Think again,” said Clonus.
 
An expanding flood of fighters charged Tribe in a human wave. He noted the rest not
actively fighting him were making off with their loot. He grimaced as the first punch
tried to knock his face off. He blocked with one arm, and punched with the other. His
opponent blew apart like a bursting bubble.
 
So he could get rid of them with single punches. That was good.
 
He took a punch to the face. It hurt, but linked in with the city, his body should repair
the damage almost instantly. More punches and kicks followed. The pain built up
from the impacts.
 
He could lose the fight if the Clonus clones kept hammering him. He needed to get
some room so he could think of a solution to his problem.
 
Tribe straightened, flinging his arms wide. Criminals shattered when they hit anything
solid. He had cleared a space to fight from. He had to capitalize on his effort.
 
He grabbed one of the masked men and swung him like a bat. Weapon and targets
went up in a cloud of dust. He grabbed a fist reaching for his face and swung that
clone through the crowd. Some of the duplicates blew up as well as his weapon.
 
Tribe leaped clear of the cloud. He had to stop the thefts. Stopping the villain seemed
out of reach for the moment.
 
He realized he wasn’t going to be able to do either with the way Clonus kept
expanding his army.
 
The stolen goods surged away from the battle he was conducting against the
increasing wave of duplicates. Ten more popped into existence with every one he
punched apart.
 
There was no way he could combat that tide.
 
The clones began disappearing as he punched several in the face. He paused as they
ran down the length of the shopping area as they vanished.
 
Tribe paused. What did he do now? His enemy had escaped. The property was gone.
Things should go back to normal unless Clonus had more places to rob.
 
He didn’t know how he was going to fix the damages caused to the stores. Maybe this
was something the owners could do for themselves.
 
Clonus had overwhelmed him. He had not contested with another with that skill set
in a long time. Suddenly fighting an army had set him back.
 
Clonus was not going to stop. So he had to be stopped by someone else. Did he
handle that, or leave it to the police?
 
He decided to go home. He had to fix his space. If Clonus struck again, he would
have to do something to intervene.
 
He didn’t like it, but he didn’t see anything else he could do. He needed a way to deal
with a horde of Clonus clones if he wanted to stop the man from making off with
anything he wanted. That just wasn’t in his skill set, and he needed time to try to think
of a solution.
 
He hated to admit defeat, but he had been beaten by the army of duplicates.
 
He let the link to the city’s denizens go so he could open a door back to his home in
the Dreamtime. He stepped through and closed the door behind him. He looked at his
wrecked garden. He had to put things right before he could relax and watch the
moonglow.
 
He needed to find a way to prevent damage from events from the outside. He knew
that people’s fears were what had shaken the space earlier. There was nothing he
could do about that. The Dreamtime responded to the waking world’s fears and joys.
He picked up a turtle that had been turn over on its back and set it on its legs. He
watched it trundle away. That was the easiest fix he could see in his garden.
 
How did he fight a one man army? Clonus would not stop until his greed was satiated.
Maybe what he had stolen would be enough. Maybe it was only the start.
 
He needed to research tactics he could apply against his enemy in case the man struck
again. He didn’t want to fix his space every time the clones attacked.
 
He sat down on the ground. The grass reformed and took shape, springing up around
him in a circular lawn. Some of the blades danced.
 
He pushed out a bubbling brook broken off from the Big River that ran through the
Dreamtime. It flowed in rivulets constructed to carry it among the flowers he grew,
and water the animals that might be attracted to his place.
 
He put together bushes and trees to edge in the garden of colored flowers coming
back to life. He smiled as the trees waved their limbs with happy expressions on their
knotty faces.
 
He nodded. He used four rocks to mark off the edges of his domain. In the vast
landscape of the Dreamtime, his part was so small he could walk across it in a few
minutes.
 
It was also unstable thanks to his connection to the outside reality. Anything that
stirred up enough of the human minds touching the Dreamtime, caused the vast reality
to shake its contents in the hopes of averting the mental problems that might come
into play.
 
He didn’t want to be the official representative of the uber nature he lived in, but
he was the one who could reach out and minimize damage.
 
Tribe noted his turtle friend had come back with a host of his friends. They settled
next to the flowing water and croaked at him.
 
He smiled at the display. He wondered what else was going to try to make his refuge
their home.
 
He watched the turtles and wondered how could he stop a one man army from
overwhelming the city and taking anything he wanted.
 
What was the solution to the problem?

1
He felt the tugging on his form again. He looked around at his home. He had finally
gotten the flowers just so. If he left, he would have to start over.
 
His tiny space shook from the outside pushing on it. If he didn’t stop that, his place
could be completely destroyed. He couldn’t have that. He hadn’t put a tree in and
nurtured it to lose it to the world.
 
He needed to look into things. Why couldn’t his space not be linked to the Earth. It
was at the edge of the Dreamtime. If he could move it, he wouldn’t have to put up
with repairing everything when there was trouble on Earth.
 
He reached into the air and pulled open a hole. He stepped through the opened door
from his garden to the real world. He took a moment to link to the people in the city
as he looked around for the trouble that had summoned him.
 
He paused at the sight of men in identical tan body suits with face masks running into
the local stores and coming out with loot in their hands. He surveyed the scene. The
group of identical men were everywhere.
 
A group of the robbers surrounded a security guard trying to stop them. The uniform
went down under the onslaught of hundreds of fists and kicks.
 
“Hey!,” he shouted as he charged forward. “Stop that.”
 
All of the masked men turned at the sound of his voice. They smiled at him. He didn’t
like that at all.
 
“So it’s Tribe, is it?,” said the group, each mouth taking a syllable of the speech. It
was like listening to a wave at a sports stadium. “Come to stop me, wanker?”
 
“I guess so,” said Tribe. He wondered where that name had come from. He had not
called himself that. “I want you to stop what you’re doing. You can leave after that.”
 
“You want me to stop what I’m doing?,” said the group in a mockish high voice.
“And you’ll let me leave? Really?”
 
“Yes,” said Tribe. Why did these humans make things so difficult?
 
“I don’t think you understand,” said the man in tan. “I’m Clonus. I can do whatever
I want, whenever I want. Why don’t you stop a purse snatcher or something? That’s
about your speed.”
 
“I’m not trying to arrest you,” said Tribe. “I just want you to stop doing this and move
on and do something useful. If I have to resort to violence, you won’t like it.”
 
“You and what army, wanker?,” asked Clonus. More of him appeared as some of the
group continued to carry off their loot.
 
“Is that how it’s going to be?,” asked Tribe. He looked down at his thin, brown hands
at the end of  his thin arms. He hated using violence. “All I want is a peaceful
resolution to this problem.”
 
“Think again,” said Clonus.
 
An expanding flood of fighters charged Tribe in a human wave. He noted the rest not
actively fighting him were making off with their loot. He grimaced as the first punch
tried to knock his face off. He blocked with one arm, and punched with the other. His
opponent blew apart like a bursting bubble.
 
So he could get rid of them with single punches. That was good.
 
He took a punch to the face. It hurt, but linked in with the city, his body should repair
the damage almost instantly. More punches and kicks followed. The pain built up
from the impacts.
 
He could lose the fight if the Clonus clones kept hammering him. He needed to get
some room so he could think of a solution to his problem.
 
Tribe straightened, flinging his arms wide. Criminals shattered when they hit anything
solid. He had cleared a space to fight from. He had to capitalize on his effort.
 
He grabbed one of the masked men and swung him like a bat. Weapon and targets
went up in a cloud of dust. He grabbed a fist reaching for his face and swung that
clone through the crowd. Some of the duplicates blew up as well as his weapon.
 
Tribe leaped clear of the cloud. He had to stop the thefts. Stopping the villain seemed
out of reach for the moment.
 
He realized he wasn’t going to be able to do either with the way Clonus kept
expanding his army.
 
The stolen goods surged away from the battle he was conducting against the
increasing wave of duplicates. Ten more popped into existence with every one he
punched apart.
 
There was no way he could combat that tide.
 
The clones began disappearing as he punched several in the face. He paused as they
ran down the length of the shopping area as they vanished.
 
Tribe paused. What did he do now? His enemy had escaped. The property was gone.
Things should go back to normal unless Clonus had more places to rob.
 
He didn’t know how he was going to fix the damages caused to the stores. Maybe this
was something the owners could do for themselves.
 
Clonus had overwhelmed him. He had not contested with another with that skill set
in a long time. Suddenly fighting an army had set him back.
 
Clonus was not going to stop. So he had to be stopped by someone else. Did he
handle that, or leave it to the police?
 
He decided to go home. He had to fix his space. If Clonus struck again, he would
have to do something to intervene.
 
He didn’t like it, but he didn’t see anything else he could do. He needed a way to deal
with a horde of Clonus clones if he wanted to stop the man from making off with
anything he wanted. That just wasn’t in his skill set, and he needed time to try to think
of a solution.
 
He hated to admit defeat, but he had been beaten by the army of duplicates.
 
He let the link to the city’s denizens go so he could open a door back to his home in
the Dreamtime. He stepped through and closed the door behind him. He looked at his
wrecked garden. He had to put things right before he could relax and watch the
moonglow.
 
He needed to find a way to prevent damage from events from the outside. He knew
that people’s fears were what had shaken the space earlier. There was nothing he
could do about that. The Dreamtime responded to the waking world’s fears and joys.
He picked up a turtle that had been turn over on its back and set it on its legs. He
watched it trundle away. That was the easiest fix he could see in his garden.
 
How did he fight a one man army? Clonus would not stop until his greed was satiated.
Maybe what he had stolen would be enough. Maybe it was only the start.
 
He needed to research tactics he could apply against his enemy in case the man struck
again. He didn’t want to fix his space every time the clones attacked.
 
He sat down on the ground. The grass reformed and took shape, springing up around
him in a circular lawn. Some of the blades danced.
 
He pushed out a bubbling brook broken off from the Big River that ran through the
Dreamtime. It flowed in rivulets constructed to carry it among the flowers he grew,
and water the animals that might be attracted to his place.
 
He put together bushes and trees to edge in the garden of colored flowers coming
back to life. He smiled as the trees waved their limbs with happy expressions on their
knotty faces.
 
He nodded. He used four rocks to mark off the edges of his domain. In the vast
landscape of the Dreamtime, his part was so small he could walk across it in a few
minutes.
 
It was also unstable thanks to his connection to the outside reality. Anything that
stirred up enough of the human minds touching the Dreamtime, caused the vast reality
to shake its contents in the hopes of averting the mental problems that might come
into play.
 
He didn’t want to be the official representative of the uber nature he lived in, but
he was the one who could reach out and minimize damage.
 
Tribe noted his turtle friend had come back with a host of his friends. They settled
next to the flowing water and croaked at him.
 
He smiled at the display. He wondered what else was going to try to make his refuge
their home.
 
He watched the turtles and wondered how could he stop a one man army from
overwhelming the city and taking anything he wanted.
 
What was the solution to the problem?

We're doing South American heroes in the other thread. Let's put together some South American villains.
 
The Conquistadores are five villians based in South America that aid each other in influencing their governments and other villains to accomplish their goals.
CES

1
He felt the tugging on his form again. He looked around at his home. He had finally
gotten the flowers just so. If he left, he would have to start over.
 
His tiny space shook from the outside pushing on it. If he didn’t stop that, his place
could be completely destroyed. He couldn’t have that. He hadn’t put a tree in and
nurtured it to lose it to the world.
 
He needed to look into things. Why couldn’t his space not be linked to the Earth. It
was at the edge of the Dreamtime. If he could move it, he wouldn’t have to put up
with repairing everything when there was trouble on Earth.
 
He reached into the air and pulled open a hole. He stepped through the opened door
from his garden to the real world. He took a moment to link to the people in the city
as he looked around for the trouble that had summoned him.
 
He paused at the sight of men in identical tan body suits with face masks running into
the local stores and coming out with loot in their hands. He surveyed the scene. The
group of identical men were everywhere.
 
A group of the robbers surrounded a security guard trying to stop them. The uniform
went down under the onslaught of hundreds of fists and kicks.
 
“Hey!,” he shouted as he charged forward. “Stop that.”
 
All of the masked men turned at the sound of his voice. They smiled at him. He didn’t
like that at all.
 
“So it’s Tribe, is it?,” said the group, each mouth taking a syllable of the speech. It
was like listening to a wave at a sports stadium. “Come to stop me, wanker?”
 
“I guess so,” said Tribe. He wondered where that name had come from. He had not
called himself that. “I want you to stop what you’re doing. You can leave after that.”
 
“You want me to stop what I’m doing?,” said the group in a mockish high voice.
“And you’ll let me leave? Really?”
 
“Yes,” said Tribe. Why did these humans make things so difficult?
 
“I don’t think you understand,” said the man in tan. “I’m Clonus. I can do whatever
I want, whenever I want. Why don’t you stop a purse snatcher or something? That’s
about your speed.”
 
“I’m not trying to arrest you,” said Tribe. “I just want you to stop doing this and move
on and do something useful. If I have to resort to violence, you won’t like it.”
 
“You and what army, wanker?,” asked Clonus. More of him appeared as some of the
group continued to carry off their loot.
 
“Is that how it’s going to be?,” asked Tribe. He looked down at his thin, brown hands
at the end of  his thin arms. He hated using violence. “All I want is a peaceful
resolution to this problem.”
 
“Think again,” said Clonus.
 
An expanding flood of fighters charged Tribe in a human wave. He noted the rest not
actively fighting him were making off with their loot. He grimaced as the first punch
tried to knock his face off. He blocked with one arm, and punched with the other. His
opponent blew apart like a bursting bubble.
 
So he could get rid of them with single punches. That was good.
 
He took a punch to the face. It hurt, but linked in with the city, his body should repair
the damage almost instantly. More punches and kicks followed. The pain built up
from the impacts.
 
He could lose the fight if the Clonus clones kept hammering him. He needed to get
some room so he could think of a solution to his problem.
 
Tribe straightened, flinging his arms wide. Criminals shattered when they hit anything
solid. He had cleared a space to fight from. He had to capitalize on his effort.
 
He grabbed one of the masked men and swung him like a bat. Weapon and targets
went up in a cloud of dust. He grabbed a fist reaching for his face and swung that
clone through the crowd. Some of the duplicates blew up as well as his weapon.
 
Tribe leaped clear of the cloud. He had to stop the thefts. Stopping the villain seemed
out of reach for the moment.
 
He realized he wasn’t going to be able to do either with the way Clonus kept
expanding his army.
 
The stolen goods surged away from the battle he was conducting against the
increasing wave of duplicates. Ten more popped into existence with every one he
punched apart.
 
There was no way he could combat that tide.
 
The clones began disappearing as he punched several in the face. He paused as they
ran down the length of the shopping area as they vanished.
 
Tribe paused. What did he do now? His enemy had escaped. The property was gone.
Things should go back to normal unless Clonus had more places to rob.
 
He didn’t know how he was going to fix the damages caused to the stores. Maybe this
was something the owners could do for themselves.
 
Clonus had overwhelmed him. He had not contested with another with that skill set
in a long time. Suddenly fighting an army had set him back.
 
Clonus was not going to stop. So he had to be stopped by someone else. Did he
handle that, or leave it to the police?
 
He decided to go home. He had to fix his space. If Clonus struck again, he would
have to do something to intervene.
 
He didn’t like it, but he didn’t see anything else he could do. He needed a way to deal
with a horde of Clonus clones if he wanted to stop the man from making off with
anything he wanted. That just wasn’t in his skill set, and he needed time to try to think
of a solution.
 
He hated to admit defeat, but he had been beaten by the army of duplicates.
 
He let the link to the city’s denizens go so he could open a door back to his home in
the Dreamtime. He stepped through and closed the door behind him. He looked at his
wrecked garden. He had to put things right before he could relax and watch the
moonglow.
 
He needed to find a way to prevent damage from events from the outside. He knew
that people’s fears were what had shaken the space earlier. There was nothing he
could do about that. The Dreamtime responded to the waking world’s fears and joys.
He picked up a turtle that had been turn over on its back and set it on its legs. He
watched it trundle away. That was the easiest fix he could see in his garden.
 
How did he fight a one man army? Clonus would not stop until his greed was satiated.
Maybe what he had stolen would be enough. Maybe it was only the start.
 
He needed to research tactics he could apply against his enemy in case the man struck
again. He didn’t want to fix his space every time the clones attacked.
 
He sat down on the ground. The grass reformed and took shape, springing up around
him in a circular lawn. Some of the blades danced.
 
He pushed out a bubbling brook broken off from the Big River that ran through the
Dreamtime. It flowed in rivulets constructed to carry it among the flowers he grew,
and water the animals that might be attracted to his place.
 
He put together bushes and trees to edge in the garden of colored flowers coming
back to life. He smiled as the trees waved their limbs with happy expressions on their
knotty faces.
 
He nodded. He used four rocks to mark off the edges of his domain. In the vast
landscape of the Dreamtime, his part was so small he could walk across it in a few
minutes.
 
It was also unstable thanks to his connection to the outside reality. Anything that
stirred up enough of the human minds touching the Dreamtime, caused the vast reality
to shake its contents in the hopes of averting the mental problems that might come
into play.
 
He didn’t want to be the official representative of the uber nature he lived in, but
he was the one who could reach out and minimize damage.
 
Tribe noted his turtle friend had come back with a host of his friends. They settled
next to the flowing water and croaked at him.
 
He smiled at the display. He wondered what else was going to try to make his refuge
their home.
 
He watched the turtles and wondered how could he stop a one man army from
overwhelming the city and taking anything he wanted.
 
What was the solution to the problem?

i'm going to put up rules for the draft monday maybe. I am still trying to decide what I want to do.
CES 

Have we heard from Log today? 

There's Hermit's Fish Guy on the NGD
CES

There's Hermit's Fish Guy on the NGD
CES

This is the biggest dinner I have ever caught
CES

This is the biggest dinner I have ever caught
CES

he does embody the seven sins so i guess that's something
CES

he does embody the seven sins so i guess that's something
CES

Thanks, Dan. I have been interested in this movie and watched the trailers and the easter egg things. The fact they brought back the Iron Giant is like whoa.
CES
 

The stacks being blown up in the trailer is the overt beginning of that.

Oh yeah...that was a major part of it.  It's been a while, but from what I recall, the latter...half?...quarter?...of the book was mixed between real-world and the Oasis.