Thursday, September 18, 2008

044: New-Found Wealth

Which should Charleston choose?
Choice A: Continue running towards the plane (0 votes)
Choice B: Try to get them to wait for him (2 votes)
Choice C: An elaborate third option which would somehow stop all planes from taking off, allowing him to easily get on the plane. (6 votes)
Instead of going with one of his easy options, Charleston chose to pull an elaborate trick to stop all the planes from taking off. He had seen a movie once where two young men pulled down an air traffic radio tower, but they had the aid of a car. While Charleston was strong, he doubted he was as strong as a car. If he had access to a phone and a willingness to be incarcerated, he could call a bomb threat into the airport. Perhaps he had some sort of previously unseen and unmentioned power which could aid him in this?

No. He did not.

Hold on! While he may not be as strong as a car, he was still stronger than the average person. He was sure that the air traffic radio tower had some sort of delicate piece of equipment on it which he could dislodge with a well-aimed rock. He turned on his heel and made a mad dash for the tower, keeping an eye out for largish rocks. Finding only a few, he decided to make the most of what he had, and when he reached the tower, he began hurling the rocks at anything that looked delicate. He had four rocks.

The first rock missed the tower entirely, comically knocking out a pedestrian. The second rock hit a satellite dish, causing it to hang limply. A third rock hit an antenna, which fell onto the satellite dish and knocked them both down.

Charleston had one more rock.

He was about to throw it at another bit of the tower, but then realized it could do more good by being thrown at Anderson's plane. Charleston turned and did so, hitting something on the plane's tail.

All across the airport, planes stopped. On the edge of sight, Charleston saw some security guards and mechanics coming out of the building, no doubt to see what was up with the tower. He walked away from it nonchalantly, and headed towards Anderson's plane. No one was leaving it, and so Charleston started pelting the door with pebbles. Eventually, this solicited a response.

The door open and Player One looked down upon Charleston. After a moment, he said, "What do you want?"

"I need to talk with Anderson Smith!" shouted Charleston.


"It's about something important!"

Player One disappeared, and was replaced with Anderson Smith.

"What?" he said.

"You owe me! You and King and Lucky!"

"What are you talking about? We already saved you from those vampires. What more do you want?"

"You know. What with..." Charleston suddenly remembered something vital. Namely, the fact that Anderson had been in the thrall of someone else during the crucial moments of the battle. He was unlikely to remember anything, and was therefore a dead end. Or was he? The man was in a private jet, after all. "I'm sort of down on my luck right now. I could use maybe a place to stay. Can I sleep on your couch or something?"

"If we let every homeless guy we save sleep on our couch, we would need more than one couch. So no. Sorry."

"How about some money, then? Please?"

Anderson sighed. While he was financially well-off, he hadn't gotten that way giving money to random hobos. In the deepest recesses of his mind, however, something told him he should probably do so, at least this time. He took out his billfold, extracted several bills, rolled them up into a wad, and tossed it down to Charleston. "If you ever come to Detroit, you might as well look us up." The door closed.

Charleston counted his money, and was pleased. He was once again a naturalized citizen, and he had enough money to do pretty much whatever he wanted to. Life was suddenly filled with options, his eyes having been opened to a wealth of things he could do.

Perhaps he could become a private investigator? Maybe a member of the Paci Custodis, if he could find out how? Then again, he did possess powers beyond those of most mortal men, a prime characteristic of a superhero. There was also the return of CAST, which Charleston could probably join.

Hold on one second. Why choose between them? With a bit of effort, he could become all of them. At least, he probably could. It was a distinct possibility, and Charleston knew where it all happened: a city called Detroit. Only two questions remained: how he should get there, and if he should get something to eat before he embarked on his journey. Life was looking up.
QUESTION ONE: How should Charleston get to Detroit?

QUESTION TWO: Should he eat before he leaves?

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