Choose Your Own Blogventure

2008-10-16T00:00:00.000-04:00

New content over at the Meekrat Entertainment Group.

2008-10-14T01:14:00.000-04:00

CYOB is going on a brief hiatus. The adventures of Charleston Charge will continue shortly.

050: Siege of the Torture Chamber

2008-10-09T23:55:00.001-04:00

Freeing the captives would give them some extra manpower, so Charleston decided to that first. He wished he knew exactly how many super-villains in lab-coats there were, but figured they were scientists. What threat could they pose? He made his intentions known, and the team went through the doors carefully and began freeing the captives. Player One and Player Two were the first to be freed, followed by Shrugs. They were all placed in the main room, while Santos waited with them to make sure nothing happened to them.

The next two to be freed were Captain Depresso and the Forgiver. Charleston carefully opened the door, and was hit in the back of the head. He fell to the ground and received a vicious kick to the side.

"Wait, this is that Charleston Charge guy," said Captain Depresso, "He's on our side."

"Looks like I'm the one seeking forgiveness this time, old chum," said the Forgiver, helping Charleston up, "We thought you might be one of the Gemini Twin Troopers, or even worse, one of the actual super-villains."

"It's fine," said Charleston, "Good to see you two up and going. Want to help us take this place down?"

"Yes," said Captain Depresso, "Yes, I do."

"Same here," said the Forgiver.

They went to the next room, but both Fadeaway and Charleston made sure no one opened the door: it contained the patchwork men. The closet was quickly opened, and Benji and Pilate were freed. They were mildly sluggish, but seemed happier out of their cages. Both animals went to their masters, who greeted them warmly.

The final room continued the elongated Slink-E. Charleston opened the door and wondered how the heck he was going to do this. He was saved from making a decision when Double O came in and scoffed.

"Hanging around while I do all the work? This is why you'll always be a sidekick, Slink," he said, walking over to the device which held the sidekick's feet in place. Double O wore battle-armor, lacking any powers of his own, and he lowered his gauntlet at the device and blasted it. Slink-E whipped around the room, eventually going through the wall due to the momentum he obtained.

"So much for stealth," said Fadeaway.

The doors at the end of the hall opened, revealing a trio of Gemini Twin Troopers. They lowered their guns, but Slink-E whipped his closed fist at them, striking each of them. Three more took their place. Fadeaway turned intangible and flew directly at them, their bullets whizzing through his body and hitting Double O's battle armor without harming anyone. Fadeaway solidified his hands and threw two of the troopers against the walls, knocking them out. He picked up the third and heaved it at their ranks. The Forgiver and Meerkat began using some sort of martial art on their ranks, while Fadeaway, Double O, and Slink-E simply began punching things. Captain Depresso and Land Captain were fighting back to back, and the animals were running around doing whatever they could.

Charleston, meanwhile, pushed his way past the melee and tried to find the super-villains and their captives. They were nowhere to be found. Suddenly, energy surged through the air, and all the Gemini Twin Troopers were gone. At this point, Charleston noticed that the room was slowly growing shorter.

"Clever," he said, as everyone else looked up, "Everyone clear out!"

Unfortunately, the doors shut at this point. The Meerkat went over to open them and was shocked for his trouble. Double O's ordinances were useless, and Fadeaway couldn't pass through it. A drone with a video screen dropped from a small hole in the ceiling, and floated over to them. The Red Scare's face appeared on the screen.

"So many little rats, all caught in my trap! How gleeful! You have ten minutes to live. I suggest using this time to make peace with whatever deities you have. Fare thee well."

The drone vanished into the ceiling.

"People with super-strength, do your best to keep the ceiling from crushing us," said Charleston, eyeing the doorknob, "I think I've got an idea!" He ran over to the door and lifted up his bionic leg, and savagely kicked the doorknob. Each time, he was mildly shocked, but on the seventh kick, the doorknob came loose and fell off the door, leaving a small hole. Double O, Fadeaway, and Slink-E all sprang into action.

"Good job," said Double O, doing his best to help hold up the ceiling effortlessly, "If any of us could shrink, we could escape."

"Meerkat," said Charleston, ignoring Double O, "You think Pilate can squeeze through the hole?"

"He'll get shocked," said the Meerkat. Pilate perched on his shoulder.

Charleston took off his coat and slipped his sleeve through the hole, "That should provide him with enough insulation."

"I suppose he'll have to try. Won't you, buddy?" said the Meerkat. Pilate chittered, and scrambled down his master. He climbed up the coat, and with some effort, he made it through the hole.

"Now what?" said Captain Depresso.

"Fadeaway, can you get through the ceiling?" said Charleston.

"No, it's an ultra-dense material. I can't get my molecules through it," said Fadeaway, doing his part in keeping the room from crushing them.

"Then we wait," said Charleston. The ceiling slowly made its way down, until everyone was nearly bent double. At that point, however, a smashing noise started coming from the door. With each smash, the door bent inwards a bit, until they were torn from their hinges.

"Hola, friends!" said Santos, squeezing underneath the sinking room. Pilate scrambled over to his master. Santos steadied himself and hefted the room up, and there was a metallic crunch. The room had stopped moving, and the heroes quickly exited.

"You see what I did there?" said Double O, "Classic nick of time rescue. This is why I'm the best of us."

Charleston ignored him, and stared at the room which was now resting slightly below the top of the doorway. "Can you guys pull the room down?"

The super-strong heroes stood side by side by side by side, with Santos in the center, and gripped the floor of the elevator room. Fadeaway counted down, and all the heroes began to strain once again. Within minutes, there was another metallic crunch, and the room dropped to their level, knocking all within the room to the ground.

Charleston picked up a piece of pipe which had no doubt played a part in their initial freedom from the room and stepped purposefully into the room. He held the pipe like a baseball bat, and intended to use it as such. The Meerkat, Captain Depresso, the Forgiver, and Land Captain filed in behind him, allowing the super-strong heroes to catch their breath.

The green scientist was the first to his feet, being a plant/man hybrid who called himself Doctor Greenthumb. He shot tendrils at the heroes, but these were sliced to ribbons by the Meerkat's claws.

"Captain Depresso, he's a plant guy. If I smash his head, will he live through it?" said Charleston, remembering that Captain Depresso was a walking encyclopedia of super-heroes and villains. He would have to find out why, some day.

"Yeah, but he'll be down for a while," said Captain Depresso.

"Good," said Charleston, bringing the pipe around in an arc and smashing Greenthumb's head in. He made a noise half like a sigh and half like a yelp and slumped to the ground.

The little blobby thing was next, now wearing a lab-coat. He had, indeed, once been a man, but genetic experiments had left him a blob of protoplasm. He was called Doctor Degenerate. Benji cornered him and barked at him continuously. There was not a whole lot Degenerate could do in a fight.

Suddenly, the room filled with freak-fish.

"Energy blasts!" shouting Charleston, swinging his pipe madly, "Does anyone have them?"

"I have the best!" shouted Double O, and energy arced through the air, taking out the fish. Liana Koleyna stood in the corner, wearing a bloody lab-coat over her super-outfit.

"I've got this one," said Land Captain, striding over to the Witchyologist. Charleston couldn't hear what was said over the next few minutes as the pair shared a hushed conversation. It ended with Liana on her knees, crying. Land Captain walked back over to Charleston and placed his hand on the young man's shoulder. "She'll be giving us no more trouble tonight."

"Aren't there more?" said Charleston.

"They're lab-coat super-villains," said Captain Depresso, "Unless they have a battle-suit or something, they'll mostly try to hide behind others. These are the only ones with actual super-powers."

Charleston nodded. He walked over to Doctor Degenerate, and said, "Where are the prisoners that were in this room?"

"The other scientists took them away!" whined Degenerate, "You'll never find them now!"

"Yes I will," said Charleston, holding the pipe purposefully, "I will find them, and find out where they took Edolie, and if anything untoward has happened to her, I'm holding you responsible."

"I'll never talk!"

"Whatever," said Charleston, turning towards the door. He stopped, and wondered for a moment. There was a chance Edolie was still somewhere in the asylum, and if so, he should go with the super-heroes and clear it out. Even now, CAST agents were coming in and leading the lab-coat super-villains away. Greenthumb's face had already begun growing back. However, if she wasn't still here, then time may be of the essence and he should set out to find her immediately. She was, after all, the only partner he had who hadn't died yet. He wanted to keep it that way.

What should Charleston do?
-Accompany the heroes in clearing out the rest of the asylum
-Leave to try and find Edolie

049: Hallway to Hades

2008-10-06T04:42:00.002-04:00

It seemed obvious which path Charleston should take. He turned to the Meerkat, Graves, and Clarence and motioned for them to take the left hallway. When no one made a move, he said, "Let's go left. I don't think they should have torture rooms."

"It might be some crazy turn of the century asylum," said Graves, "They tortured people all the time."

"Unless we went back in time, I doubt that it's a turn of the century asylum," said Charleston.

"No, you retard, I mean it could be run like one. Isn't a super-villain running it? Aren't they usually crazy as hell?"

Charleston pondered this for a moment, and had to concede that yes, it was entirely possible that the super-villain in charge was running it like a turn of the century asylum. "However, what if he's not, and he's just torturing people? Your friend Player One could be getting tortured right now."

"The gamer fag? Eh, no skin off my nose."

Charleston debated bringing up the priest's colorful language, but realized it would be a lost cause. Instead, he pursued going down the left hallway, "Still, if someone is being tortured, we have to help them. What if the sidekicks are in there?"

"If Pilate is down that hallway, then things are going to get pretty ugly," said the Meerkat.

"Sidekicks are worthless piles of crap," said Graves, "Besides, I'd be more worried about the freaking radiology wing. What sort of asylum has radiology? That's x-rays and stuff, right? You don't need x-rays to tell if someone is crazy. Besides, look at the signs."

Everyone did so. There was a small placard above the middle doors, telling what was on the upper floor. The radiology lab also had a placard. The left hallway's sign, proclaiming it to lead to torture rooms, was hastily written on a piece of cardboard with glitter glue. Someone had gone through the trouble of drawing several flowers on the sign as well, for no apparent reason. It was wedged in the door-frame, covering another placard.

"We're going left anyway, but perhaps we should take down the sign and see what it's covering," said Charleston, reaching up and taking down the sign. The placard underneath said "Recreation Room". He stared at it for a moment, and turned to Graves, "You're the asylum expert. Do they usually have rec rooms?"

"I guess so," said Graves.

"I mean, my only real experience with asylums is from that one 'Nightmare on Elm Street' movie. You know, the one that took place in an asylum," ended Charleston, sheepishly.

"The thing I don't get about 'Nightmare on Elm Street'," said Clarence, who had been doing things which would not be very polite to repeat, "is why they went all the way across the country to play video games."

Charleston and the Meerkat looked at him blankly, and Graves merely dismissed Clarence's idiocy with a wave of his hand. "Don't bother correcting him," said Graves, "You'll just start a loop of stupid."

The quartet stood in silence for a moment, until Charleston said, "Well, we're going left, then."

"It's probably a trap," said Graves.

"It's also entirely possible that they converted the rec room to a torture chamber, isn't it?" said Charleston, exasperated, "Isn't it?"

"Whatever. Let's go get ourselves killed because you're too stupid to know when you're walking right into a trap."

"Listen, I'll go first. If it's a trap, then you'll hear me screaming. If it's not, I will calmly walk back here and let you know. Deal?"

"Yeah, I guess."

Charleston slowly opened the double doors, and slid into the hallway. There was damaged medical equipment strewn about, and the fluorescent lighting flickered on and off. He breathed deeply, and immediately regretted it: the air on this side of the door was putrid. He picked up a length of pipe, and walked carefully down the hallway, half-expecting to see something appear suddenly in the flickering lights and dash towards him.

He made his way down the hallway to the first side door without incident, and slowly opened the door and looked inside. Player One and Player Two were inside, their wrists tied together and their mouths sharing the same gag. They appeared to be unconscious, but otherwise unscathed and therefore moderately safe. He went across the hallway and peeked into the adjacent door, finding Shrugs strapped to a bed. There was a hand-drill covered in green goo on a table next to him, but Shrugs looked unhurt despite this. In any case, it would probably do to continue this search with a bit more haste.

The room next to Shrugs' held the Forgiver and Captain Depresso, both heavily bruised and hanging from their ankles. Charleston carefully walked to the device holding the two heroes up, and lowered them. They were both unconscious, which was probably just as well. He carefully laid them on the floor, and continued to the adjacent room. It had several CAST agents, a few of whom had worked for TYRIS. Someone had apparently decided to take them apart like puzzles and sew the limbs back on wherever, and therefore the agents looked like mismatched children's puzzles. Charleston quickly closed the door and continued down the hallway. The next door was a broom closet, in which Fadeaway's Benji and the Meerkat's Pilate were stored in cages. Both were asleep, but otherwise looked fine.

The next room contained Double O's Slink-E, stretched to his maximum length with a ball-gag in his mouth. He filled the entire room, and Charleston had no idea how to help him, despite the pleading in the sidekick's eyes. He quickly closed the door, and tried not to vomit. The next door contained more CAST agents. They were in jars, and Charleston immediately closed the door and failed not vomiting, and he suddenly felt heavier. There was one more room, behind double doors at the end of the hall, and Charleston slowly made his way towards it. He didn't want to open the door just yet, but unlike all the other rooms which were dead-bolted, this one had a keyhole. Charleston knelt down and made use of it.

Liana Koleyna, the Witchyologist, was sitting on a stool by a table with various surgical implements upon it, studying them. Edolie DePrit was strapped to a mildly inclined table in a hospital gown. There were several more CAST agents about as well, most of them still whole, if not unscathed. There was another man in a lab-coat about as well, standing in front of a table where electricity sporadically blazed through the air. Charleston could not see who was on the table, and was quite glad for that. The final person was a green gentleman in a lab-coat, with a bandage on his arm. Charleston guess that this explained the green goo-covered hand-drill. He stood up and turned around, and walked quickly to the end of the hall and through the double-doors.

Land Captain and the Neo-Bassets had arrived.

"Well, I've found the strike force everyone's sidekicks!" said Charleston, leaning on the doors.

Fadeaway, the Meerkat, and Land Captain looked at him expectantly. Double O stared indifferently at the back of his own hand.

"Well, the good news is that Benji and Pilate look like they're just fine, just drugged. Either they weren't planning on doing anything to them, or they haven't gotten around to it yet. Slink-E is stretched out, and I didn't want to free him yet. The strike force looks okay, for the most part. They do have some people in a room at the end of the hall, though," he said, hoping Land Captain wouldn't ask about Liana.

He did.

"Uh, well, she's in the room."

"Then we have to go rescue her!" said Land Captain.

"I don't think she needs rescuing," said Charleston, slowly.

"What do you mean? Is she dead?"

"No, she's-"

"She's doing some torturing, isn't she?" Charleston nodded, and the blood drained from Land Captain's face. The superhero continued, "I sort of figured it would be something like this. I always hoped it would end up differently, but I guess once you start genetically engineering flying freak fish you can't really go back."

Santos began trying to comfort the distraught Land Captain, but Fadeaway pointed to Charleston and said, "Did you have that thing on your coat outside?"

"What thing?" said Charleston.

"The red thing on your back," said the Meerkat, "The thing you didn't have when you went down that hallway, but have now."

Charleston quickly removed his coat and threw it on the ground, hoping it wasn't ruined. There was a giant translucent red blob on it. It sprouted two eyes, a mustache, and a mouth.

"I was once a man!" it warbled deeply, "And I'll not tolerate your interference with our experiments!" It slid off Charleston's coat cleanly and slipped under the double-doors leading to the end of the hallway.

"I'll follow it!" said Fadeaway, vanishing. A few minutes later, he reappeared, white as a ghost. "You could have warned us about all the sick stuff back there."

"Sorry," said Charleston.

"Anyway, that room at the end of the hall? Pretty much every super-villain ever to don a lab-coat is in there, with a bunch of Gemini Twin Troopers. They were about to do something to that poor girl, but I stopped them sneakily."

"Thank god," said Charleston, hoping to God that this wasn't going to turn out to be another incident like the one that occurred in South Carolina, "Any supernatural people?"

"Not really."

"Graves and Clarence, you guys go let Agent Villain know what's going on. The way should be clear, right?"

Santos nodded, and said, "Si."

"Okay," he said, as the priest and the fat man exited through the tunnel, "Now, should we free the captives first or go right for the end of the hall?" When no one else answered, Charleston knew it was up to him to decide.

What should Charleston do first?
-Free the captives
-Head for the end of the hall

048: Agent Villain

2008-10-02T02:18:00.003-04:00

It would probably be better for Charleston to get some rest, he realized, and so he closed his eyes and went to sleep. After a few minutes, Land Captain looked back at him, his face becoming one wrought with guilt.

"Ishmael, drive for a while. Liana and I have to have a talk," he said.

"Aye aye, Land Captain," said Ishmael.

"Why do I have to lie to him, Liana? Out of all the people in this universe, he's the only one who hasn't actively tried to do me in," said Land Captain.

"As members of the Astounding Superhero Syndicate, we have to keep some of our secrets," said Liana. She was wearing a traditional witch's costume, save that it was made of black scales.

"He already knows our secrets, and besides, I didn't have to lie to him at the courthouse."

"You rushed off without telling anyone where you were going, sweetheart. If you had checked out with the Embryonic Man like you were supposed to, then you would have been told that loose lips sink ships."

"That's another thing I don't like."

"Outdated expressions?"

"No, the other members of this team, if you can call it that. We're not a superhero syndicate, we're Mark King's personal army-for-hire. He says jump, we say how high. Am I the only one who gets that?"

"You have to realize that most of our teammates have less than astounding powers, and the ones that could strike out by themselves have ties to Mister King. This is the only chance they have to do some good."

"What about you and me, then? I've been a solo act for most of my career, and you certainly don't have any ties to King."

"If you want us to be a dynamic duo, honey, then you're going to play by my rules. If I can make some money doing this superhero thing, I'm going to, and the Syndicate by-laws state that no super-hero can have non-civilian romantic entanglements outside the Syndicate."

"It still stinks like rotten fish. Besides, Charleston is probably going to think he's going insane. One minute, Ishmael is sentient and the next he's just a souped-up car?"

"There are ways of dealing with Charleston, my dear."

"We're not dealing with him. He's my friend."

Liana sighed, "I knew you wouldn't see it my way." She took out a syringe and, before Land Captain could react, injected him with its contents. He instantly fell asleep. "Thank you so much for putting Ishmael in autopilot before taking your nap, dear."

Hours later, Land Captain and Charleston awoke, still inside Ishmael. They were in a heavily wooded area, and there were noises on the edge of hearing. Dangerous sounding noises.

Charleston yawned, "I thought we had to meet at a warehouse or something."

Land Captain rubbed his neck, "Apparently someone altered our course. We've been out for hours."

"You went to sleep, too? How could you do that and keep driving?"

A battle raged in Land Captain's mind. In the end, he decided to ignore Charleston's question, "I wonder where we are. Let me pull up the GPS system. Ah, we're in Ohio, outside Cleveland. I'm guessing the asylum is close by, and those are the noises we're hearing."

"Well then, let's get over there and see what we can do to help. Hey, where's Liana?"

"A very good question," said Land Captain, starting Ishmael. Moments later, they pulled up to a group of individuals in blue jumpsuits adorned with gadgets. A priest, a fat man, and a thin man with a boxing glove were standing off to the side seemingly doing their best to ignore everything. The Meerkat and the Neo-Bassets were standing on the other side of the blue jumpsuit-adorned group, looking worried. Various headlights lit up a barricade while screams floated over from the asylum.

A man in a suit looked up at Charleston and Land Captain as they exited Ishmael. He had an eye-patch and was missing a tooth, and was scarred. Charleston recognized him as Agent Villain.

"About time you got here," he said, "I'm running out of bodies to throw at these people. They've taken down the strike force and, surprise surprise, captured everyone's significant others and sidekicks. This includes one of my agents, so I’m a bit pissed off at the moment. No one kills my agents but me."

Charleston assumed he was being metaphorical or something, and said, "What should we do?"

"Charleston Charge, isn't it? For starters, you can do something about those robots," said Agent Villain, pointing to several drones floating outside the asylum.

"Robots would fall under superhero jurisdiction as well, wouldn't they?" asked Land Captain.

"I'm not sending any of my people in there until those robots are taken care of, but if you want your group of costumed nothings to go after them, go right ahead."

Charleston and Land Captain walked over to the Meerkat and the Neo-Bassets. All of them looked quite distraught.

"We're going to try and take care of those robots," said Charleston, "We'd appreciate your help."

The Meerkat exhaled, and smiled, "Finally! I was wondering when he was going to let us do something. They've got our sidekicks, you know. My Pilate, Fadeaway's Benji, Double O's Slink-E. They took the Witchyologist, as well, and some CAST agent with funky hair."

"Edolie!" said Charleston, angrily, "Okay, so what's the plan? Do we know what the robots can do?"

"Basic drone robot stuff," said the Meerkat, "Lasers, mostly. Lasers and pinchers."

"The Neo-Bassets can take care of the robots," said Fadeaway.

"Okay, then I can take you two and tunnel into the asylum while they're distracted. Go get the Paci Custodis. The CAST agents are refusing to go in until Villain gives the order, and he says he won't do that until the robots are dealt with. They can be cavalry."

Fadeaway took flight, grabbing Santos before he confronted the robots. Double O waited a moment, and followed bellowing something about the day being saved due solely to his efforts. Charleston went over to the Paci Custodis, and was greeted with cold indifference.

"Hey, priest," he said, remembering the harsh treatment Land Captain had received, "We're going in. Are you going to stand around all day, or are you going to help us?"

"Yeah, we were just waiting for you to show up. Come on."

The Meerkat had already started digging. Land Captain tactfully ignored Father Graves, and Clarence bounced along happily. Ben kept staring at Charleston with rapt fascination, which Charleston tried to ignore. They entered the tunnel, and emerged in a room full of Melonheads.

"Mutant freak things!" shouted the Meerkat, "Who gets these?"

"Fair game!" shouted Graves, pulling out a gun and shooting one, its bulbous head splattering against the wall. Clarence followed suit, while Ben pulled out a lighter and lit his oily-rag covered boxing glove on fire.

"KITSUNE FISTO!" he shouted, punching a melonhead and setting it on fire. It screeched. While the Paci Custodis carefully slaughtered many of the melonheads, the Meerkat skillfully wove between them, taking them out with careful nerve-pinches. Land Captain utilized a variety of fighting techniques, and Charleston made a note to ask him where he learned such things. For his part, Charleston lashed out with whatever limb was available.

Minutes later, any melonhead that was not dead or unconscious had run away, which left Charleston and his group with a difficult decision. The room had three ways out, not counting the tunnel. Ben had also just realized his hand was on fire, and was screaming. Charleston took a deep breath.

"Land Captain, take Ben outside and see how the Neo-Bassets are doing and meet up with us as soon as possible." Land Captain fired off a salute and helped Ben back into the tunnel. Charleston turned to the rest of his group, and opened his mouth to speak, but closed it immediately. The middle way led to stairs, and was presumably the way the melonheads had gone. The right way said it went to radiology, and Charleston was unsure if asylums were supposed to have radiology labs. He was sure, however, that they should not have torture rooms. This is what the left way proclaimed itself to be. Before he gave his orders, done based solely on the fact that people seemed to be listening to him, he needed to choose a path...

Which way should Charleston go?
-Up the middle
-Left
-Right

047: The Mystery of the Land Captain

2008-09-29T22:57:00.004-04:00

A bit of meta before we begin:
This is the 50th Choose Your Own Blogventure post! Hooray! More excitement when we hit the fiftieth actual story installment. Now, your paltry dose of prose:Charleston came to a decision.

"Hey, I'm going to talk to your car," he said.

Land Captain chuckled. "Why would you talk to ol' Ishmael? He's not a talking car, not like Friday. That was my old car."

Charleston looked at Land Captain's reflection the rear-view mirror, awe-struck, "What?"

"This car is pretty fast and all, but nothing compared to Friday. Poor Friday got destroyed bringing me to this universe, though, and then I got a new car."

"From who?"

"I'm not sure," said Land Captain, "I don't actually remember."

The rest of the ride was spent in silence. Charleston stared out the window, and made a mental note to track down Mister Lucky as soon as he was able. Either the mass memory-change was having some adverse effects, or something much more sinister was going on. Besides, he had heard Land Captain refer to Ishmael as a sentient car after the trial. He would have to keep a close eye on his friend to make sure that his mind didn't deteriorate any more. Besides, he knew nothing of Land Captain's history save that he fought aliens frequently. He would have to get to the bottom of this mystery that was the Land Captain eventually. For now, he had to prove himself to CAST so that he could possibly join them.

"Do you know who's going to be there?" said Charleston.

Liana handed him a print-out, and gave him a sad sort of smile. He knew how she felt: how long would it be until Land Captain forgot about her, or about Charleston? When would he stop reverting? A problem to think about, but for another time. He looked at the print-out:

Shrugs, Player One, and Player Two would be representing the Paci Custodis in the strike force. Clarence Claybourne, Father Graves (no first name was given for him), and Ben Johansen would be there to provide back-up if back-up was needed. Charleston remembered all of them but Ben, and they had seemed professional enough about things when they rescued him from the False Prophet. He made a quick mental note to find the False Prophet, preferably with a few members of the Paci Custodis, and kick his pointy teeth in.

In addition to Land Captain, the superhero community would send the Forgiver and Captain Depresso. These four would make up the strike force. Back-up would be there in the form of the Meerkat and the members of the Neo-Bassets: Fadeaway, Santos, and Double O. Their sidekicks would not be included in any part of this mission. Charleston assumed this included Liana Koleyna, who may just be there for moral support.

There was not a list of CAST members. Well, there was, but every name was blacked out.

"Where are we going, by the way?" said Charleston, "I mean, are we going straight to this asylum or do we have to meet up with everyone beforehand?"

"They gave me coordinates," said Land Captain, "So I'm following those."

"How long?"

"Nearly an hour, it looks like."

Charleston nodded, and wondered if he should take a nap before they got there, so he could be well-rested for the trials ahead.

Should Charleston take a nap?
-Yes
-No

046: CAST Away

2008-09-25T02:20:00.001-04:00

Which path should Charleston take?
Paci Custodis - 1 vote
CAST - 4 votes
Superhero - 0 votes

While he was a natural for super-heroics, having attributes beyond that of a mortal man, he wasn't sure that's what he wanted at the moment. After all, with super-heroics you get super-villains, and he didn't feel like gaining an archenemy. Joining the Paci Custodis would allow him to do something he had some experience with: fighting the supernatural. However, he knew how hard it was to find out how to do so and, if Jimmy Swift was a Paci Custodis, then they obviously weren't that picky. He would like to be in an organization with a little more prestige than that. An organization like CAST, the Clandestine Alliance of Stealth Tactics. He was surprised they were still around, however, and he would have to find out more about them if he wanted to join. Well, there was only one thing for that. To the library!

He called down to the front desk to get directions, and was met with ignorance. Not only did they not know where the nearest library was, but they had no idea why he would want to go there. Was the hotel's wireless connection not enough for him? When Charleston replied that he had no computer, they laughed at him and hung up. Charleston sighed, both for the concierge's lack of professionalism but also for the state of the library in today's culture. Well, there was only one thing to do: acquire a computer. He once again called down to the concierge and requested a computer. This was met with less derision, and several hours later, Charleston was the owner of a brand new laptop, and began to struggle with it.

In the past, he did have a personal computer. However, it was sent over by the now-defunct TYRIS and set up by their technicians, including the internet connection which was the current cause of Charleston's distress. He clicked on the help button, cursing the touchpad while he did so, and was given a list of things he may need help with. Eventually, he managed to establish a wireless connection, and the first thing he did was find the nearest library. As it turned out, there was one down the street, but it was closed now. No matter. He went to the CAST web site and found that there wasn't one. It dawned on him that a clandestine spy organization wouldn't have a web site, and decided to try Wikipedia instead. This yielded the following information:

"CAST, or Clandestine Alliance of Stealth Tactics, was founded in the 1970s to combat the menace of Zodiac and other unconventional international threats. CAST had many agents at its disposal, though they received retroactive fame from the memoirs of Nate Houlihan, the former agent Seven-in-One, which detailed the missions of an elite squad. Other notable agents include Agent Big Fish, Agent Man-in-Charge, Agent Pheromone, and Agent Villain."

There was no mention of the recent reformation of CAST, however, which seemed like something which would be important. He wondered if being able to join CAST was something you worked up to, and he rather hoped it wasn't. Then again, if he could somehow get the word out to them, perhaps they would allow him to join them. He simply had to do something really spectacular and preferably legal. It would also help if it was something he could accomplish within the space of one day, as he was impatient. In fact, he was so impatient that he shut down his laptop and hit the streets looking for something to make himself known. Thirteen labors rolled into one, more or less.

Hold on, hold on. He recalled Player One or the Forgiver saying something about an asylum in Ohio where a super-villain was assembling an army of super-villains and other psychopaths in order to take over the world or something. That was an unconventional threat if he ever heard one, and if the new CAST was anything like the old one, it wasn't something they would take lightly. He went back to his hotel room and dialed 911.

"911. What's your emergency?"

"I have news of an imminent threat to national security! I need to speak to CAST!"

"What's your emergency, sir? Also, I have no knowledge of any organization of that name."

"There's a super-villain in Ohio who has taken over an asylum and he's going to use the super-villains and psychopaths there to take over the world!"

"We need to patch you into someone who'll actually know what you're talking, sir," said the operator, and moments later another voice replied:

"Agent Operator speaking. What's the imminent threat to national security?"

Charleston repeated himself.

"Gotcha. Thank-"

"I want in on this."

"What? You can't just say you want in on this. That's not how it works."

"I used to work for TYRIS!"

"You and everyone else, buddy!"

"My name is Charleston Charge!"

"Yeah, sure. You're the fifth guy who has tried that. Hold on, we know to deal with you."

Charleston was put on hold, and was quite unamused by Agent Operator's attitude. It would seem politeness was dead. The other end clicked back to life, and the voice made Charleston's heart flutter.

"'Ello?"

"Edolie?" said Charleston.

"Charleston!" said Edolie.

He could hear a brief scuffle on the other end, and the next voice was Agent Operator's: "Well, that and the confirmation I received from the voice recognition software I booted up is good enough for now. We'll send someone to pick you up. We'll want you here for the planning."

Charleston hung up, quite pleased with himself. He put his laptop into a pillowcase so that it wouldn't get damaged, and slung it over his shoulder. He put on his hat and went to the lobby of the hotel. Two hours later, a familiar car pulled up. Charleston walked out the door calmly and made his way to the car.

"Ahoy there, buddy!" said Land Captain, rolling down Ishmael's window, "You'll have to get in the back this time. Liana's come along for the ride." Liana waved politely from behind Land Captain.

Charleston sat down, and after greeting Land Captain and Liana, asked a question which had plagued him for the past several minutes: "I thought you guys were with the Astounding Superhero Syndicate, not CAST. What gives?"

"We're working in conjunction for this case, along with a few of those Paci Custodis. They've got word that there's all sorts up at that asylum, and they want to make sure we follow that Agreement of theirs."

Charleston nodded, but another older question arose in his mind: Ishmael was not an ordinary car, and may have been immune to the memory block instated by Mister Lucky. He had to find out somehow, and the easiest way to do this was ask. He wondered if he should ask Ishmael before or after they took down the asylum...

When should Charleston ask?
-Before
-After

045: Menace of the Manakeet

2008-09-22T02:37:00.001-04:00

Should he eat before he leaves?
Yes - 5 votes
No - 1 vote

Charleston entered the waffle house, the sweet aroma of his favorite food wafting through the air. How long had it been since he had delicious waffles? Drenched in syrup, covered in butter, the occasional berry bringing itself to the forefront of his taste buds to let him know that yes, despite all of life's ups and downs, there would always eventually be waffles. Nearly lifted off his feet by the heavenly smell of fresh waffles and real maple syrup, he sat down at a counter and ordered the waffle house's signature Waffle Family Buffet: his choice of any four varieties of waffles, brought to him as he finished each four-waffle portion, and an amount of toppings bordering on the obscene.

How should Charleston get to Detroit?
Plane - 0 votes
Train - 4 votes
Automobile - 1 vote
Bus - 1 vote

Several hours later, Charleston emerged from the Waffle Family Buffet, filled with waffle-y goodness and slightly sticky. Now, he had to turn his mind to other matters. Namely, how to get to Detroit? As far as he knew, the planes were still delayed. Besides, he was reasonably certain one of the security guards had seen him. He could always use his money to rent a car, or even buy a car, but there was the slight snag that Charleston had never gotten his driver's license. While this was usually not a problem, as he was a careful if somewhat nervous driver, he thought that a man who had so recently been arrested and tried in the Supreme Court should not be driving without a license. He could also take a bus, but he had heard stories from Edolie and Player One about the sort of crazy people who drive those buses. He was sure it was an isolated incident, but he really didn't want to take any chances. That left the train. Charleston marched through the streets of town, right to a traffic cop, and only paused a moment when he heard him holler stop. A moment was all the traffic cop needed, and he tackled Charleston before he was hit by a semi-truck.

"Are you mad?" said the traffic cop, helping Charleston up, "You have to pay attention. This is a serious city, and I am a serious cop."

"All right," said the mildly-confused Charleston, going to brush some dirt off his hobo-clothes and deciding the effort would be futile. He continued through the streets of town, paying close attention to traffic signals and on-coming traffic. As he got closer to the train station, he toyed with the idea of resuming his march, but decided against it. They may think he was some sort of terrorist. He walked up to the ticket booth, only to be greeted with a door being slammed in his face. A smaller door opened in the center of the larger door, and a long nose poked out. It was shaking with either anger or fear, and really looked quite comical.

"What do you think you're doing, hobo?" said the nose.

Charleston began to think that, perhaps, he should have bought new clothes. He would keep a note of it in his... he had no notebook, or little tape recorder. They had been taken from him. He was hit with a wave of remorse, a biting sense of longing for his former life. Things had not been simple then, of course, but he did not want simplicity. If he did, he would remain a hobo. No, he wanted problems to solve. Adventures to choose. A little tape recorder he could say things into. A fedora-like hat, like the one which had just been stolen off his head by some punk kid while Charleston was thinking of how good things used to be. Well, he would get them in Detroit, and by hook or by crook, he would get there. No nose was going to stand in his way! He turned to face his nasal nemesis, and was taken slightly aback by the nose's disappearance. He tapped lightly on the tiny door, and the nose once again poked out.

"Why did you do that?" asked Charleston, hurt.

"I don't got time to stand around while you daydream. Now, what do you think you're doing, hobo?"

"I'm no hobo. I'm a man who's down on his luck and freshly innocent, filled to my non-existent gills with waffle-y goodness. I, sir, am a paying customer who wishes to purchase a ticket to Detroit!" A little old lady applauded him politely.

"You look like a hobo, and everyone knows hobos don't ride in with all the non-hobos. The whole system would break down if we let you do that."

"I'm paying for a ticket, you aural antagonist!"

"Aural's ears, dim-bulb, and I don't care if you're buying the whole damn train, as long as you look like that you ain't riding with the decent folk! Good day!" The tiny door slammed, leaving Charleston brimming with rage and feeling wounded. He hoped the nose suffered heavily this allergy season, and he stomped off to try and think of what to do.

What did hobos do? Why, they rode the rails, of course. Except as far as Charleston was aware, they never really had a destination in mind. Then again, he knew very little about the traditions of hobos. No doubt he would have eventually learned them, but now he was merely a transitory hobo/non-hobo hybrid. What he did know was how to break into a train station and find out when the next train to Detroit was coming. He did so, Charleston stood by the tracks and waited for his train. In the wee hours of the night, it came, and he leapt onto it. Holding himself up with one hand, he opened the door of what he hoped was a nice, dry car and swung himself in.

He was not alone.

Motley Shakespeare had set up a desk in the car, with a candle burning in an old tin can. He was writing on a piece of old washed-out newspaper with a pigeon's feather as a quill. He looked up from his writings.

"Who, pray tell, are you?" said Motley Shakespeare.

Charleston wondered what he would do in the presence of the actual Shakespeare, and applied this knowledge to his current situation: "Charleston Charge, at your service."

"Oh, what foolish youth, to think that one such as him could provide a service to one such as I. What laughter is to be had. A-ha. Ah, but perhaps he can be of some assistance, at that. A man comes, he who guards the train, and it is beyond the prowess of even my words to stop him from creating trouble for me. Perhaps if this Charleston Charge could use his strength where my wits have proved lacking, then he may ride this train to his destination with my blessing."

"I guess I could do that."

"You bring me great cheer. Go wait atop by mobile domicile, for he arrives shortly."

With a shrug, Charleston climbed on top of the car. A few cars down, silhouetted in the moonlight, he saw a man checking the cars and prepared himself. Nothing could prepare himself for when the man looked directly at him, and charged bellowing a bird-like squawk. As the man drew closer, Charleston saw that he was no man at all, but rather a man/parakeet hybrid with a face full of feathers and a beak, and wings for arms. His feet were bare, and taloned. So perplexed was Charleston that he barely had a chance to dodge the man-parakeet, this manakeet.

The manakeet chortled at the moon, turned to face Charleston, and began warily circling him. Charleston poked his head back into Motley Shakespeare's car.

"You didn't tell me he was some sort of man-bird!" shouted Charleston.

Motley Shakespeare shrugged, "Having known no other guards, I simply assumed all of them had his characteristics. I shall take care in the future not to make such rash assumptions."

Charleston quickly pulled his head out of the hole as the man-bird pecked. The wind made Charleston's coat flutter and he struck a pose. The manakeet got into a defensive position and chortled. Knowing absolutely nothing about this manakeet save the fact that he had somehow been employed as a guard, Charleston decided to trust his instincts. They told him to hit it. As the manakeet crouched down, Charleston kicked it in the face with his bionic leg and it flipped itself into the air. It flapped its wing-arms madly, and other than slowing its descent, nothing happened.

Charleston loved his coat. It had been with him through thick and thin, and while it was showing its age now, it was still a very good coat. He may have lost his hat, his tape recorder, and all sorts of dignity, but he still had his coat. However, if he wanted to get to Detroit and possibly get a new coat, sacrifices had to be made. After all, it wasn't like he could sacrifice his hat. He pulled off his coat and sprang at the manakeet, who leapt backwards. Reflexively, it went at him with its talons raised, but Charleston was too quick and too lucky for it. He grabbed its ankle and threw his coat over the creature's head, and while it struggled madly against its make-shift trap, Charleston wrapped his arms around it and walked to the edge of the car. In one swift movement, he launched the manakeet off the train. It flapped its wings madly and landed safely, but a bit dazed, and Charleston watched it disappear into the distance. He fired off a quick salute, and went back to Motley Shakespeare.

"Is he dealt with?" asked Motley Shakespeare.

"I threw him off the train."

"Well done."

Motley Shakespeare continued writing, occasionally dipping his quill in an inkpot. It was the only thing in the boxcar that was new.

"How long until we get to Detroit?" he asked, lying down in the hay.

"Less than a fortnight, more than a night."

"Sensational."

It took three days to get to Detroit, most of which Charleston spent wishing that Motley Shakespeare was much less haughty. He had no idea what Motley Shakespeare thought of him, but a quick look at one of Motley Shakespeare's manuscripts hinted at a character of great strength but little intelligence that guarded a genius playwright. When they reached Detroit, Charleston simply left the boxcar without a word to or from Motley Shakespeare.

The first thing he had to do was set up a base of operations from which he could re-equip himself and ponder his next action. Ah, and shower several times. Life as a hobo was a dirty one. He found his base in a moderately nice hotel which asked no questions when he paid in cash. He had them bring up a new outfit to his room, as well as some other necessities. As he emerged from his seventh shower, there was a knock on the door and the bellboy dropped off some fresh laundry and a package. Charleston tipped him, and laid the clothes out on the bed. Other than the undergarments and shirt, everything was tan. He put his new especially long coat and fedora-like hat in the closet, just for a little while, and put on the rest of the clothes. The shoes were a sort of hard-wearing dress shoe, almost a boot. The tie had red stripes with dark green spots on it, and it made Charleston's eyes water if he looked at it for too long.

Charleston stared at the closet, and stepped towards it, each step a step towards destiny. He reached in and pulled out his especially long coat, relishing the act of putting it on. Then, with breath held, he reached up and pulled out the fedora-like hat. With a certain amount of reverence he placed it on his head. Only one thing was missing, but he had not yet opened the package. He did this quickly, and pulled out an MP3 player.

This was not what he wanted. Who the heck gave him an MP3 player when all he wanted was a tape recorder? He angrily cycled through its options, and came upon once called "voice". Cautiously, he selected it, and it brought up a menu, one of which was "record voice". He selected it, and brought the MP3 player up to his mouth.

"Hello hello hello, this is Charleston Charge," he said. He stopped the MP3 player, and selected the recording. He could hear nothing, and then realized he should put the tiny headphones into the MP3 player. He did so, and tried listening again. This time, he heard his own voice playing back to him. He nodded, and put the MP3 player in his coat's interior pocket. Watch out world, Charleston Charge was on the case!

Er... the only question was what that case was. Despite all his downtime, he was still no further along with deciding which path he wanted to go down. Once again, he pondered his options. He decided that being a super-hero was sort of like being a private investigator, and so he rolled those two options into one. So he had three options: trying to join CAST, trying to become a Paci Custodis, or trying to become a superhero. Each one was fraught with excitement and danger, and this suited Charleston just fine.

Which path should Charleston take?
-Paci Custodis (Supernatural hunting)
-CAST (Espionage)
-Superhero

044: New-Found Wealth

2008-09-18T01:33:00.000-04:00

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.

"Why?"

"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?
-Plane
-Train
-Automobile
-Bus

QUESTION TWO: Should he eat before he leaves?
-Yes
-No

043: Land Captain's Lament

2008-09-15T00:45:00.000-04:00

Should Charleston go celebrate?
Yes: 6 votes
No: 2 votes

Charleston decided to go to the celebration, if only to get some free food. Living on the streets, even for such a short time, had shown him the importance of never passing up a free meal. Jimmy Swift instructed Charleston to follow him, though Jimmy immediately got into a car and left him standing in front of the courthouse. He stood there, watching the car drive away, when another car pulled up. The window rolled down, and Land Captain told Charleston to get in.

After a few moments, it became clear that Land Captain was doing the speed limit. This baffled Charleston.

"Since I joined the Astounding Superhero Syndicate, I've had to limit the use of Ishmael's speed to times of emergency. They're also working on getting me situated in my secret identity."

"You have a secret identity?" asked Charleston.

"You don't think I was born with a captain's hat and a love of justice, do you?"

"What is it?"

"I trust you, Charleston, so I'll tell you."

Land Captain did so, and Charleston nodded. It was a normal sounding name, but had a certain rightness to it. After a few moments of somewhat awkward silence, Charleston decided to ask a big question.

"Land Captain, do you remember when that picture of us was taken? The one Swift showed you."

"I assumed someone was trying to pull a fast one. Is it real?"

"No, of course not."

The pair drove on, gradually closing in on Swift's car. Ishmael was deftly dodging obstacles, and another thought struck Charleston.

"Does Ishmael remember that picture?" he said.

"Well, it's a fake, isn't it?" replied Land Captain.

"Well, yes, but if we can find out more about the picture, perhaps we can track down who took it?"

"Ah, we can't do that. Ishmael and I thought that telling the Superhero Syndicate that he's a sentient car was a bad idea."

More silence. Charleston leaned over and whispered "we need to talk" into Ishmael's air vent. As the low-speed chase continued, something became increasingly apparent. Either Jimmy Swift was half-heartedly trying to lose them, or he had no idea where he was going. Lacking any way of communicating with him, Land Captain and Charleston chose to simply continue following him. In fact, they followed him right to the airport where he and five other people exited the car. It had obviously been cramped, and judging from the droopiness of one passenger, not a very pleasant ride. Charleston turned to Land Captain.

"Pull in front of them dramatically," said Charleston.

Land Captain nodded, and did so, swerving to a stop in front of the sextet. Land Captain then emerged from his car with a stylized step while Charleston merely opened the door.

Player One, the droopy passenger, looked at Land Captain with a bemused expression. "You totally stole that from Speed Racer."

"It's homage," said Land Captain, leaning against Ishmael.

Player One shrugged as Jimmy Swift, Clarence Claybourne, Father Graves, Anderson Smith, and Morrey Roberts stopped around him. Morrey, suffering from motion blindness, ran into Clarence who took no notice.

"I thought we were supposed to be doing some sort of celebration, Mister Swift," said Charleston, walking around Ishmael.

"You did?" said Jimmy, adjusting his tie, "You did. Well, yeah, we're going to celebrate here. At the airport. On a plane. With hookers and blow?" Jimmy turned to Anderson hopefully, who grimly shook his head. "Okay, no hookers and no blow. Plenty of booze, though. You like booze, don't you?"

"Not really," said Charleston.

"I don't either," said Land Captain.

Swift turned to him belligerently and looked him up and down, "You're the guy. The lying superhero guy. No one invited you, sailor boy, so why don't you pack up your tights and drive off into the ocean or whatever it is you do?"

"Yeah. Go sodomize some other sailors, you salty seaman," said Father Graves.

Land Captain looked at him, mouth agape. Charleston was about to say something comforting, but Land Captain raised a single hand. He looked at Charleston, eyes brimming with tears, "It's all right, Charleston. I know when I'm not wanted. I'll find some way to get a hold of you once you get settled in. It shouldn't be too hard. It's time I should be shoving off, anyway. Liana is probably worried about me, and I have some superhero duties to perform up north."

"Give my regards to Liana," said Charleston as Land Captain closed Ishmael's door.

"Give mine to Edolie," said Land Captain, as he drove off.

This remark confused Charleston, but there were more important things at hand. He remembered why he had been arrested in the first place: he was looking for Anderson Smith who was now right here in front of him.

Or, at least, he had been. Anderson and his group were boarding a private jet. Charleston ran after them, but as he did so, his bionic leg began to malfunction. He had to get on that plane in order to talk to Anderson Smith, which would somehow ease all his troubles. He would also punch Jimmy Swift in the face as soon as he could manage.

He had seconds to decide a course of action: he could continue running, hopefully catching the plane before it left and his leg gave out entirely. He could try to shout to them over the din of the airport, hoping that they would wait for him to board. The third option was an elaborate plan that suddenly spawned into Charleston's head, which was to somehow delay all flights at once, allowing him to easily catch the flight.

What to do, what to do...

Which should Charleston choose?
-CHOICE A: Continue running towards the plane
-CHOICE B: Try to get them to wait for him
-CHOICE C: An elaborate third option which would somehow stop all planes from taking off, allowing him to easily get on the plane.

042: The People of the United States V. Charleston Charge

2008-09-11T00:22:00.002-04:00

Breaking the fourth wall: I tried to do something different with today's segment. I think it turned out all right.

How should Charleston plead?
Guilty: o votes
Not guilty: 3 votes
Insanity: 0 votes

IN THE SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES

THE PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES,
Petitioner
v.
CHARLESTON CHARGE

Washington, DC
(Date removed)

The above-entitled matter came on for oral argument before the Supreme Court of the United States at 11:14 a.m.

APPEARANCES:
DHARMA H. LAWSON, ESQ., Washington, DC; on behalf of the Petitioner.
JAMES SWIFT III, ESQ., Detroit, MI; on behalf of the Respondent.

PROCEEDINGS
(11:14 a.m.)

CHIEF JUSTICE JOKAVICH: We'll hear... who are you? You, the second stenographer.

PLAYER ONE: I'm typing this for the Internet!

CHIEF JUSTICE JOKAVICH: I'm afraid that's not allowed, son. Bailiff, take away his computer.

(I am going to use sneakily Anderson's phone to text the trial to myself, and I will transcribe it later. I apologize if it's not courty enough for you, but I suck at texting.)

CHIEF JUSTICE JOKAVICH: Ms. Lawson.

MS. LAWSON: Mr. Chief Justice, and may it please the Court: Charleston Charge is--

CHARLESTON: Don't I have to say what I plead?

CHIEF JUSTICE JOKAVICH: Order! Order! This whole case is highly irregular, and so you will have to bear with us as I attempt to make sure this farce of a trial continues apace. The only things Mister Charge are actually charged with are illegally emigrating from the lost city of Uhld and gross vagrancy. Mister Charge, how do you plead?

CHARLESTON: Not guilty. I may have been a vagrant, but I was a clean vagrant.

CHIEF JUSTICE JOKAVICH: Fair enough. Miss Lawson, the floor is yours.

MS. LAWSON: All of my arguments are for the other things Mister Charge was charged with. If it pleases the court, I shall continue acting as if he was still charged with these things.

CHIEF JUSTICE JOKAVICH: Highly irregular, but I'll grant it.

MS. LAWSON: Thank you. First and foremost, how do you explain the fact that you are in these photos?

CHARLESTON: I have no idea why I am in those photos, and if I'm not charged with this--

MS. LAWSON: Just answer the question, Mister Charge.

CHARLESTON: I don't know. Wasn't I supposed to take an oath?

MS. LAWSON: I'll ask the questions here. The photos, Mister Charge. Explain them.

CHARLESTON: I told you, I don't know anything about the photos. It's obvious they were faked, since look, that guy? The one who's been torn in half? He's standing right there. Oh my god, that one is my lawyer. I knew I had seen him before.

MR. SWIFT: I object!

CHIEF JUSTICE JOKAVICH: What do you object to?

MR. SWIFT: The other lawyer is woman! Lawyering is a man's job! Her job is to get under this desk and--

CHIEF JUSTICE JOKAVICH: Mister Swift, I will not have such sexist behavior in my courtroom.

MR. SWIFT: How about this sexist behavior?

CHIEF JUSTICE JOKAVICH: Mister Swift, please step off of your desk and pull your pants back up. No one wants to see that, and was this not already a farce of a trial, I would have you escorted from the courtroom. Miss Lawson?

MS. LAWSON: Thank you, your honor. I call Joseph "Scoop" Griswald to the stand. Mister Griswald, how do you explain these pictures?

MR. GRISWALD: The darnedest thing. One minute, I was on my way to South Carolina, following my pal the Moonman Marauder, and the next I was back in Detroit with a camera full of pictures. No one else seems to know anything about where I took the pictures or anything.

MR. SWIFT: I object!

CHIEF JUSTICE JOKAVICH: Mister Swift, please. There is nothing in Mister Griswald's statement to object to.

MR. SWIFT: He's lying.

CHIEF JUSTICE JOKAVICH: How is he lying?

MR. SWIFT: I think it's staged. Rehearsed. Besides, I want to call my witness.

CHIEF JUSTICE JOKAVICH: Go ahead.

MR. SWIFT: I call Land Captain to the stand! That's right, everyone gasp! All right, you Communist bastard, what do you know about these photos?

LAND CAPTAIN: I'm not a Communist, sir. I know nothing about the photos.

MR. SWIFT: I know you're lying. A man might hang if you don't tell the truth.

LAND CAPTAIN: I'm not lying.

MR. SWIFT: So you're putting Charleston Charge up a creek without a paddle. That's all, your honor.

F'HAAT TOHTOA: Hold everything! I have come with damning evidence!

CHIEF JUSTICE JOKAVICH: I was expecting this. Hello, Mister Tohtoa. What do you have?

MISTER TOHTOA: I have here a signed certificate of naturalized citizenship belonging to one Charleston Charge, and signed testimonials from several people detailing that he was a model homeless citizen.

CHIEF JUSTICE JOKAVICH: I'll allow it. Jury, go make your deliberations.

JURY FOREMAN: We're pretty sure he's not guilty, your honor.

CHIEF JUSTICE JOKAVICH: Wonderful. This court rules in favor of Charleston Charge.

--

Swift came up to Charleston after the trial amid the media circus that had surrounded the newly-innocent man. It was a very unorthodox trial, and had succeeded in making Charleston an instant media darling. Swift invited Charleston out for a celebration. Charleston pondered this for a moment, and wondered if he should go.

Should Charleston go celebrate?
-Yes
-No

041: Not Without My Lawyer

2008-09-09T18:22:00.000-04:00

Which lawyer should Charleston choose?
Gil Ardo: 0 votes
F'haat Tohtoa: 0 votes
Jimmy Swift the Third: 4 votes

Charleston sat in a nondescript little room, unfurnished save for a table, chair, and desk lamp. There was a large window on the west wall, which he assumed people were watching him through as he doubted anyone would let an exterior window get that dirty. There was also the obligatory door, which was not so much a furnishing but a door. He had been given three files to look at, to further help him choose a lawyer. A federal agent had assured him that it was basically a formality, and there was already a labor camp in a third world nation awaiting him.

"What are the charges against me, again?" said Charleston, looking at the lawyer files.

"Are you sure you want to discuss this without your lawyer present?" said a man in a severe suit and sunglasses. A wire ran from a device in his ear into his suit coat.

"I don't really care. You've already assured me that it's futile."

The man slammed his hands on the table, and pointed at Charleston, "Let me make this clear. We want to do this as by-the-book as possible, Mister Charge, and so you have to choose a lawyer before we tell you anything."

"Fine. I choose this one. The one from Earth," said Charleston, holding up the file on James Swift the Third.

The agent took the file and held it up to the window. A few moments later, a thin, arrogant looking man was shoved into the room. He had an ill-fitting gray suit on, and was carrying a briefcase. Charleston could have sworn he had seen him before.

"Did you have all three of them just waiting outside?" asked Charleston.

The agent laughed malevolently, "Are you dense? Why would we do that?"

"Yeah, I suppose-"

"We already had Ardo and Swifty here to try them for incompetence. You made the wrong choice, boyo. Now, you want the evidence we have against you? Exhibit A, you worked for TYRIS and were an instrumental part of its operations, it would seem. You had six times as many missions as any other insurance agent."

"I liked my work."

"Nice try. No one likes their job. Exhibit B," said the agent, pulling a tabloid out of his coat, "Go ahead. Take a gander."

Charleston stared at the front of the tabloid, which bore the headline: "SUPER BATTLE IN SOUTH CAROLINA"

The story, with photographic accompaniment, detailed the battle in horrific detail. There were pictures of everything: the dead, the return of the Paragon Platform (which was actually in every newspaper), the army of villains, and one of Charleston himself sitting with Land Captain with a less-than-flattering caption below it.

How could this be? The whole event was wiped from everyone's memories, and he was darn sure no one took any pictures or anything. Except for Photogra-She, though Charleston recalled that her photos had been primarily of the amazing Serial Hang-Man. He was only in one of the tabloid photos. Ah, but that was the thing. Photos had to be credited to someone, and Charleston looked at the name.

Scoop Griswald?

"Who the hell is Scoop Griswald?" said Charleston.

"Oh god," said Swift, "Don't get me started on that bastard. He's some guy who works for a newspaper up in Detroit. Not a real one, a college one. He claims that real newspapers dilute the news, or something. Now, Mister whatever your name is, I think you should plead guilty. I mean, they have a picture of you at whatever this thing was."

"What would I be guilty of?" said Charleston.

"Counts of insurance fraud, conspiracy, vagrancy, indecent composure, and who knows what else. I don't really care. They tell me you're guilty as hell, so it's really up to how much time you want to spend in jail."

Charleston was continuing to regret his choice of lawyer. "Can't I plead insanity? Or, I don't know, NOT GUILTY?"

Swift laughed, "Yeah, if you actually want to try. I've seen the evidence. It's airtight. You're screwed."

Charleston sighed, "They have a picture of me, and I bet you that Land Captain won't even remember it being taken."

Swift stared at him, and began mouthing random words at him, and eventually smiled a devilish smile. Charleston looked at him quizzically. Swift sighed heavily, "You may have just bought yourself something. Land Captain... that's a superhero, right? I read about him in the paper. Yeah, if you can get a superhero to lie about you, then you might actually have a case! So I guess it's up to you what you plead."

"Shouldn't you give me advice? And shouldn't that agent have left at the beginning of this conversation?"

The federal agent was standing in the corner with his arms crossed. He slowly shook his head, and made obscure hand gestures. Swift returned them, and the pair seemed to reach some sort of agreement. What it was would forever remain a mystery to Charleston.

"Nope. So I guess it's guilty, not guilty, or insanity. I guess the trial is in half an hour, so you better choose pretty quick. I’d still suggest guilty, so we can get the whole thing over with."

Charleston sighed, and began to think.

How should Charleston plead?
-Guilty
-Not guilty
-Insane

040: Objective Detroit

2008-09-03T08:32:00.002-04:00

Whom should Charleston seek aid from?
Mark King: 1 vote
Anderson Smith: 3 votes
Mister Lucky: 2 votes

Charleston stood outside the library, staring at a stone lion. Mister Lucky obviously found you if he needed you, and it might be hard to get a meeting with Mark King. Anderson Smith, on the other hand, was basically a normal guy. A normal guy who seemed to be able to act as the conduit for powerful beings, but a normal guy nonetheless. Therefore, he would be the easiest to find. The only thing was getting to Detroit. A week ago, he could have simply contacted TYRIS and they would have sent Land Captain, but Land Captain was already in Detroit and Charleston had no idea how he could reach him. Therefore, this would take some ingenuity, which was pretty much the only thing Charleston had left.

Hold on just a second. Anderson Smith was a member of the Paci Custodis. Perhaps Charleston could find some of them in South Carolina, and they could help him go north. It was worth a shot, at least. The only thing was finding some, as they were quite secretive.

Hold on another second. Charleston was unsure of how it happened, but maybe he could become a Paci Custodis and learn all of their secrets and how to contact other members. He was sure they had some sort of hidden network, since so many had been at the battle. The only question was how to become one. He could ask Anderson...

Oh wait. He was engaging in paradoxical thinking again.

Then again, was he even eligible? He was born in a far-off mystical country and was already imbued with super-human powers and a weird sort of mysticism. Perhaps this rendered him ineligible to receive the special powers of a Paci Custodis. He sighed, and walked off to find a homeless shelter for the night. Barring that, he could find a church. They were supposed to give people shelter, right?

Eureka! A church! If there was anywhere that might know about the Paci Custodis, it would be a church! He sprinted off to find out, and eventually happened upon a relatively small Roman Catholic Church. The nightly service was letting out, and he let himself in after the few church-goers left. He made his way to the alter, tipping over candlesticks as he did so. A priest came out when Charleston was looking inside the organ.

The priest coughed loudly, causing Charleston to startle and hit his head. He muffled a curse, and pulled himself out of the organ.

"What do you think you're doing?" asked the priest.

"I'm looking for something about the Paci Custodis. They're a group of people who hunt things like vampires and werewolves."

The priest stared at him for a moment and then nodded, backing slowly away. "Ah, yes. One moment, please. I'll go get what you require."

As the priest went into a back room, Charleston sat down on a pew and smiled. This was going great!

A half hour later, the priest had not emerged from the back room but Charleston didn't notice this. He had fallen asleep. He also didn't notice two burly policemen come into the church, and he stirred only slightly when they put him in handcuffs. He finally woke up when they stood him up to walk him out of the church, but was too groggy to do anything. He fell asleep in the squad car, and woke up when they reached the police station. Mild confusion turned to horrified shock as Charleston realized he had been arrested, but what for? He asked.

"Sleeping beauty is finally awake. That's a shame, I bet some of our other pals would love to see if their kiss woke you up," said one of the cops.

"That was in very poor taste," said the other.

"I'm just being funny."

"No, you're being offensive. Now read him his rights."

The first officer did so.

"You can't arrest me for messing around in a church," said Charleston, trying to remain calm, "Can you?"

"This isn't about messing about in a church. The government is pretty darn sure you had something to do with that whole Paragon Platform thing a week or so back. There's a bunch of reports of a bunch of super-villains and super-heroes and God knows who else coming here, and then just vanishing. The government smells a conspiracy."

"Why didn't the FBI or CIA come arrest me, then?"

"We're turning you over to them ASAP, sleeping beauty. We already know you're going on trial. There are only three lawyers in the entire country who would take your case."

"Is it that hopeless?"

"Not only is it that hopeless, but you're a homeless guy. These three are the only ones stupid enough to do a hopeless case pro bono."

"Who are they?"

"Well, the first one is some electric squirrel guy from some planet that exploded. He's named Gil Ardo, and I don't think he ever won a case. The second one is a dog-man named F'haat Tohtoa from some planet that didn't explode. The third one is pretty much human, his name is Jimmy Swift the III. I guess they're all pretty good lawyers, despite everything."

Charleston went into deep thought. Electric squirrel, man-dog, or human? He wished they had told him which one

Which lawyer should Charleston choose?
-Gil Ardo
-F'haat Tohtoa
-Jimmy Swift the III

039: Charleston Charge, Hobo at Large

2008-08-31T00:44:00.002-04:00

The week after the battle... or, as the world at large knew it, the return of the Paragon People... was not a good week for Charleston Charge. He had woken up the day after the battle to find himself unemployed and under investigation by several government agencies. By noon, he was also homeless, all of his assets seized. Lacking anything else to do, he attempted to travel to the city of his birth, the Lost City of Uhld. This was hard to do when you were under investigation by the government, however, and he eventually decided to go out for some delicious waffles. This is also surprisingly hard to do when you are under investigation, with your assets seized.

By the end of the day, he was unemployed, homeless, hungry, thirsty, and penniless. He found fifty cents to use at a payphone, but was unable to find a payphone, and so he bought a bag of chips which only served to make him thirsty and moderately less hungry. Since he had no means to contact his friends, he could also be considered friendless. In the span of one day, he had become a virtual nobody, forced off the grid.

The rest of the week had been a continuation of this state of events. Eventually, he was able to find a soup kitchen and a trash can with a fire in it. He wondered if he was ahead of the game, as far as being a member of the hobo community was concerned. After finding a clean piece of cardboard and a permanent marker, he was sure of it. After pondering it for a bit, he decided to write down "Will work for food", which was a very clichéd thing to write, certainly, but concise. Towards the end of the day, he made plans to find a park and learn a talent he could put to good use. After all, he had a hat which money could be thrown into.

The next morning, exactly one week after Charleston had become homeless, he found a newspaper on the bus. He had begun using the public transportation system several days earlier, and each day he saw new bits of the city from his mobile headquarters. To his surprise, there was a minor article about the dismantling of TYRIS from which he learned that most of the agents were being absorbed into the new CAST, an endeavor supported by many people whom Charleston recognized from the battle. Several more gifted agents - the reporter's description - had been accepted into the Astounding Superhero Syndicate. Charleston noticed that he was not mentioned at all, and slowly realized that of all the agents of TYRIS, he was the only one who got screwed. Well, he and Robin Banks, but Robin was also being cared for in one of the city's top hospitals for an extreme bipolar disorder. Charleston was out on the streets reading discarded newspapers.

He had been shown an entire world he had not known, and it had been snatched away from him with ease.

He would have cried out angrily against Fate at this point, but did not want to get kicked off the bus. Not until he got to the public library, in order to use its Internet. Once he was at his stop, he departed the bus and screamed at Fate. Then, he went into the library to use its Internet.

The first thing he did was look up the current roster of the Astounding Superhero Syndicate. He had a hunch he knew whom would be added, a hunch which was quickly verified. Land Captain and the Witchyologist were the two newest members, alongside such luminaries as the Forgiver, Serial Hang-Man, and Mark King. He nodded quietly to himself, and continued to surf the web. He looked up Anderson Smith, and found that he worked for the Detroit branch of a major television channel. Coincidentally, the headquarters of the Astounding Superhero Syndicate was also in Detroit.

Mister Lucky was not on the Internet, except in some anecdotes about the Basset Hound Brigade and reported sightings over the years. Obviously, you only found Mister Lucky if he wanted to be found. Charleston had a lot of time and a lot of experience with finding people.

Charleston logged off, and stepped outside. Someone was going to help him get out of this situation, whether they wanted to or not.

Whom should Charleston seek aid from?
-Mark King
-Anderson Smith
-Mister Lucky

038: Always Remember, Never Forget

2008-08-27T03:58:00.002-04:00

Continued from 037: Here Comes Mister Lucky

"How did you get here?" said Charleston.

"I flew us here," said Vinny Fitzgerald, "Eh yo, there's our plane." Vinny had crashed it on top of the bear machine, meaning that the amount of bears would not increase. This was fortunate.

Mister Lucky nodded. "My name is Mister Lucky, and today's your lucky day! I'm going to fix all this right up. But wait, there's more! Someone's gonna pay! All right, Frinky! You're up!"

Mister Frink looked like John Rhys-Davies to a point where the resemblance went from uncanny to just plain creepy. "I shall kill you one day, Mister Lucky. Depend upon that."

"Just do it, Frinky! Work your special brand of magic!"

"It's impossible for the fighting to stop!" said Frink, and the fighting stopped rather quickly. Dick Douglas, the Basset Hound Brigade's detective, looked over at his manservant Jojo Jenkins and punched him. "See? I'm right! Violence is eternal."

"Now I need Edolie DePrit. If she'd get out of the car's back seat, we could fix things up," said Mister Lucky.

Edolie peeked out of the back seat sheepishly. "How did you know?"

"Just lucky, I guess! Now, I need you to hold hands with Frinky here while we get things back to normal! You'll lose your powers, though, but not your messed up hair. Also, I don't care if you're okay with it because this is bigger than you!"

"Oui, monsieur," said Edolie, slipping back into her accent.

She and Mister Frink held hands. They both began to glow, much to Frink's dismay.

"Say, is it possible for Clarence Claybourne to be alive again," asked Mister Lucky.

"It's impossible!" said Frink.

Clarence's body regained some measure of vitality and trotted over to Frink and Edolie.

"All three of you hold hands. Mark, you hold hands, too. Good. Now, is it possible for everything to go back to how it was before this whole fight started?" said Mister Lucky, "I think it's witchcraft!"

"It is impossible!" said Frink.

"Yeah, this fight was witchcraft," said Clarence.

Mister Lucky stood next to Charleston, and began to explain: "Both Mister Frink and Clarence Claybourne have this sort of field around them that allows them some measure of reality manipulation. I think it's because Frinky is so stubborn and Clarence has the imagination of a brick. This power, coupled with Edolie's ability to warp reality gained from that machine she destroyed, should get us back to how it was. Only thing is, everyone will remember it for a little while. You, me, Mark King, and that Anderson Smith fella have to have ourselves a talk."

"Do you know if it'll work?" said Charleston.

"If I'm lucky!" said Mister Lucky with a wink.

A small orb of power manifested between Frink, Clarence, Edolie, and Mark King. It expanded until it engulfed the entire area. Not everything went back to normal. While the multitude of bears, monkeys, pyramids, and dogs vanished the Paragon Platform did not. All who died returned to life, with the curious exception of Tal Andreos. Later, it would be discovered that she had been horribly mutilated and sexually abused by a robot. The Spork Avenger once again became the Spork. Plasticine Cube, Metallic Spheroid, and their friends were sent home. The nursing home was rebuilt, as well, though the house the False Prophet lived in was still destroyed. However, this was still the problem of so many heroes and villains in one place. Mister Lucky had a plan for that, too, and he snapped his fingers.

"What do you want," said yet another Double O.

"Right now, I just need you to get all these heroes and villains back to where they belong," said Mister Lucky.

"Fine, whatever," said Double O, and moments later, the only people left in the area were Charleston, Mark King, Mister Lucky, and Anderson Smith.

"If things worked out how they should have, then everyone should remember something big happened here today," said Mister Lucky, "If we're lucky, then they'll just think it was the return of the Paragon People. Anderson, I need you to get to work on that. We can blame the house on Bad Higgins, I guess."

"Right-o, Mister Lucky," said Anderson.

"I still need you here for now, though. We have to talk to Charleston here. Not you, though, but your two bosses."

Anderson sighed, and let his mind wander.

"Now then, a few decades ago me, Mark, and another guy met up and discussed the whole supernatural and superhero problem. We decided that the super-naturals would leave the super-people alone, while the civilians should be just that. Innocent bystanders at most. It would seem, though, that there's a thing that's sort of undermining everything. A little thing called TYRIS. Well, Charge, what's it all about?"

"They sell insurance," said Mark King, "In fact, the Astounding Superhero Syndicate buys their insurance directly from TYRIS."

"Most Paci Custodis do as well," said a voice through Anderson Smith.

"I had no idea," said Charleston.

"I believe you," said Mister Lucky, "However, who was it that sent the Paci Custodis off to fight vampires and pretty much started this whole thing?"

"Robin Banks? He's just my manager, though. I doubt he'd do anything evil," said Charleston.

"Check the name, kid. He's bred for trouble. I bet if we investigate enough, we can bust this whole TYRIS scam wide open and get things back to how they were, more or less."

"If you think that's best."

"I do, kid. I do."

-

The investigation turned up several disturbing facts. One, Robin Banks had been the Dispatcher for several years after disclosing the Dispatcher's secret location to the Mafia. He used his connections to scam people into buying insurance, and to use TYRIS as his own personal army. The case of the giant frog, in fact, was merely an attempt to blackmail a herpetologist who lived nearby. In the end, Robin Banks was jailed for dozens of counts of insurance fraud and hundreds of conspiracies. TYRIS was shut down, leaving Charleston, Edolie, Land Captain, Liana Koleyna, and countless others out of jobs.

While most people who were present had only the vaguest idea that something big had happened that day, Anderson made sure they thought it was the return of the Paragon People. A few people were given the task of never forgetting what happened: Mister Lucky, Mark King, Anderson Smith's bosses, and Charleston Charge.

One person was given the task of always remembering all the lives that had been lost that day, all the senseless violence, and to never stop remembering.

That person was Robin Banks.

Choose Your Own Blogventure is going to be taking a short break while I polish up what we have so far. Stay tuned for the future adventures of Charleston Charge, though! It should be fairly soon.

037: Here Comes Mister Lucky

2008-08-27T03:06:00.004-04:00

Continued from 036: The Battle Erupts

The heroes were outnumbered and suffering heavy losses. Dry-Man, Fadeaway, Captain Depresso, Solar, Dismembro, Serial Hang-Man, Photogra-She, Player One, Player Three, and many others had fallen in battle. Breakneck was doing her best to whisk her fallen comrades to the medical tent where several doctors had set up. Unfortunately, only a few were actually competent. Doctor Bob Smith, who may be a centaur, was one of them. The other was El Scientist Magnifico. The other doctors were Steve the Wanna-Be Doctor and Doctor Marth, who had a degree but got it because his roommates kept dying. Needless to say, things were looking grim.

Charleston sat on the hood of Ishmael with Land Captain by the tent.

"Where's your girlfriend?" he said, sipping cocoa.

"She's out there with her fish."

"My goodness. Hey, you're a superhero. Why aren't you out there?"

"I'm not good at these all-out brawls. I may pop in, in case they need me."

"I think they do."

"I hate to interrupt," said Ishmael, "But I'm receiving a list of the fallen."

"Say it," said Charleston, who had become quite pale.

"Captain Depresso, deceased. Player One, deceased. Shrugs, deceased. The Forgiver, deceased. Player Two, deceased. Fadeaway, deceased. Shizamablock, deceased. Papery Pyramid, deceased. Clyde the Embryonic Man, deceased. Dismembro the Dismembered Man, deceased. Serial Hang-Man, deceased. Photogra-She, deceased. Dry-Man, deceased. Solar, deceased. Benji, deceased. Vehigirl, deceased. Clarence Claybourne, deceased. Tal Andreos, deceased. Jimmy Swift III, deceased. Ben Johansen, deceased. Liana Koleyna, deceased. Shall I continue?"

"No," whispered Land Captain, "That won't be necessary."

"We didn't have that many people to begin with," said Charleston, "Then they got those armies. We never stood a chance."

"I need to get out there. If I don't make it back, take care of Ishmael for me. You've been a good friend, Charleston."

Charleston nodded, but was silent as Land Captain ran into the fray. Minutes later, Ishmael began to drone on again:

"Land Captain. Deceased."

"Ishmael. Shut the hell up," said Charleston softly.

Charleston sat in silence, and waited for the fighting to be over. He guessed, though, that even if the villains won they would continue. When they won, he should say. He decided that he would have to do something, and he hopped off the car and began to stride off into the battle.

A firm but friendly hand on his shoulder stopped him. Charleston turned, and came face-to-face with two men in suits, one of them a battered Anderson Smith.

"Are you Charleston Charge?" said the one who was not Anderson.

"Yes. I need to get out there. Better to die now than wait for death to find me," said Charleston.

"My name is Mark King, and I speak on behalf of a select group of individuals when I say I can't let you do that. We're the good guys, after all. We'll win out in the end."

"I just listened to a good friend die, and many others besides."

"I know, and I'll be Mark King it down in my report. Get it?"

"Now is not the time for puns!" shouted Charleston, "You bastard! You utter bastard, standing here and making puns while men and women risk lay down their lives!"

"I know what I'm doing, son. Now watch. See that, up in the sky?" said Mark King, pointing.

Charleston strained his eyes, and saw a tiny dot become gradually larger.

"Is that a gyrocopter?"

"Indeed. It's the European branch of the Astounding Superhero Syndicate, and just the first wave of reinforcements."

The gyrocopter crashed into the giant Nazi mech, taking it out. Several figures erupted from the remains of it, taking the fight to the villains. A man in a sphere flew into battle and began shooting balls at the armies of bears and monkeys.

A Scotsman with a box leapt in front of Watt, and bellowed, "Do ye want to see what's in me box?" He opened it and pulled out a large rubber hammer which should not have fit into the box. He hit Watt with it, but was cut down from behind by a Middle Eastern man in a robe. Before anyone could react, he exploded.

"Llwellyn, deceased. Scottish Box Man, deceased. Kinetosphere, deceased. Scooter, deceased. Englishman, deceased. Captain Monocle, deceased. Britain Sandy, deceased," said Ishmael, unbidden.

The Middle Eastern man emerged unscathed. Charleston turned to Mark King again, who simply put his forefinger to his lip. Charleston watched as the good guys were pummeled.

Elsewhere, Wyandotte Thompson, who had helped Player One and Shrugs begin their quest, arrived being ridden by a full-sized brachiosaur. This was Brachiosaur B. Brachiosaur.

"Please, Brachiosaur, I can't carry you much farther!" whined Wyandotte.

"Brachiosaur!" said Brachiosaur.

Before they could reach the battlefield, a monkey with the head of a tyrannosaurus rex blocked their path.

"Brachi!"

It was a stalemate.

Back at the battlefield, everyone had mysteriously stopped. A robot shaped like an ass was walking through, singing a song, followed by a marching band. The band was whining about not eating in months, but the Ass-Bot paid them no heed. Hero and villain alike watched as Ass-Bot marched his way through the battlefield, but once he was gone, the battle raged on.

Plasticine Cube and Metallic Spheroid were having a difficult time of it. While they were adept at fighting pyramids, other things were beyond them.

"For once, I wish the Flesh-Pod and Ostrypus were here!" said Metallic Spheroid as he rammed a bear.

"I do as well!" said Plasticine Cube as another bear slashed him, "PAIN!"

Spheroid rushed over to him. "Are you all right, my friend?"

"I am damaged. I fear I shall not make it."

"No! I shall not lose you as well on this day!"

"It is too late. I... am... off..." Plasticine Cube said no more.

Metallic Spheroid turned to the bear and rammed it as hard as he could, screaming while he did so.

"You have taken all my friends!" he screamed, running in a circle, "I shall have no more of this tom-foolery!"

"Not all of them!" said a bean-shaped green creature with a golden energy-filled hat.

"The Mikep!"

"I brought some friends, too! In fact, one of them sort of brought me here because I had no idea what was going on, but now I'm here!"

"Hey, I'm going to go hang out with Doctor Derangemo instead," said a bird-thing named Cruton, "See you later."

Mikep was too busy to notice. Elsewhere, a vampire who looked vaguely like Willy Wonka had gone into a blood rage.

"BANGLES!" he cried, savagely attacking the dogs, even as one devoured an Asian member of the Bicycle Pozze.

"Oh, hey!" said Graves, who was nearby, "You'll just be hungry an hour later!"

"Instead of the Asian eating the dog, it's the dog eating the Asian!" replied Ethan.

Ethan and Graves' eyes met, filled with rage.

"Mine was better," said Graves.

A gnome in a pointy hat stood on a dish high above the battle and he incanted spells. Below, another Double O fought valiantly with a sword. There were a lot of Double Os.

Motley Shakespeare had gathered several members of the Pozze and converted them into a theater troop, which was performing for several hobos around a trash-can.

"Sammiches?" said one, who was heavily armed. This was Baggy Brigadier.

"Sammiches," said the other, who was Baggy Johnson.

The nefarious Baggy Satan was also there, deciding some time ago he liked this better than doing any actual work.

The battle stopped again, as three figures ran onto the battlefield singing a song:

"Napkin Man, and the Spork! Fighting crime, and doing stuff! When they get home, they'll eat pie! It is called Hero Pie, and it is made with cherries or apples! The Spork likes cherries, but Napkin Man does not!"

More loudly than the first bit of song, they shouted, "It's innuendo!"

Napkin Man wore a flannel shirt and a napkin mask, while the Spork merely used Sporks to fight with. The third member of the team, the Napkin Vixen, wore three napkins. One on her face, the other two covering her chest. Napkin Man was an enigma to most people there, and when the fighting raged on and he gave his life for Napkin Vixen's, no one really cared but the Spork and Napkin Vixen. The Spork screamed with rage, and declared himself to be the Spork Avenger.

Charleston stood on the sidelines with Mark King, who was still holding him back.

"It's working itself backwards," said Mark King.

Charleston knew he would get no answer if he asked what.

The next person to arrive was a young man with a large sword. He punched out Shoshy Raphael and vanished.

After him, however, a plane appeared in the sky and several people sky-dived into the fray to take care of the Zodiac. Leo Leopolous declared his intention to kill agents, and the fight was on. Fighting most valiantly was Agent Villain, a brilliant double agent. He even made it look like he was attacking his own allies, he was so dedicated. In the sky, the Paragon People returned on their platform and joined the fight.

"Is that what we were waiting for?" asked Charleston, awed by what he was seeing.

"No."

It was then that Charleston noticed a single man in the middle of the battlefied, dancing the Charleston. He was slightly amused by this, but he also felt a supreme amount of hate. The battle stopped, and he could hear the man singing:

"Charleston, Charleston, Cha-cha-cha-cha-Charlie Charleston. Da da da, I'm better than you!" sang the man.

An imp materialized, and the man tried to dance away from the imp. He did not succeed, and vanished when the imp touched him. Everyone applauded, and then continued to fight.

"Thank God!" said a voice from behind Charleston, "I hate that guy! Now what's all the trouble?"

Charleston turned to find himself face-to-face with Mister Lucky and the original Basset Hound Brigade.

"Is this what we were waiting for?" said Charleston.

"Yes," said Mark King, "This is it."

To be concluded in 038: Always Remember, Never Forget

036: The Battle Erupts

2008-08-27T01:50:00.001-04:00

Continued from 035: The Villains Assemble

The gathered heroes stared at the incoming villains.

"Are those pyramids?" said Dry-Man, "Which villain is that?"

"They're new," said Captain Depresso, who had found himself on the front lines.

"Pyramids and monkeys?"

"They're new, too. At least, new to me."

"Shambling undead."

"We got those," said Player One, readying his gun.

"I estimate that we're pretty screwed," said Clyde.

Lsadfsagi appeared, "I bring hope."

"What?" said Captain Depresso.

"I bring hope."

A sphere, two cubes, and a pyramid manifested.

"Where did you bring us?" said the Metallic Spheroid, though Lsadfsagi had vanished. When he realized this, he cursed softly in binary.

"This is obviously the real world," said the Plasticine Cube, "Though why he brought us here, I have no idea."

"Yo, this is whack. Whickity-whack," said another cube, made of charcoal and dubbed Shizamablock.

"Hey guys, I think maybe we're in trouble," said the Papery Pyramid, "Look over there!"

"Legions of evil pyramids!" said Metallic Spheroid, "Also, other things which will no doubt hinder us!"

"Ah, but over here we have what appears to be assembled heroes!" said the Cube, "I see now why we were brought here!"

"ACTION!" said the Spheroid and Cube together.

"Are you guys done? We sort of have to go defend the world from an army of evil. I'm pretty sure that's Hitler over there," said Dry-Man.

"Indeed," said Cube, "Onward to action!"

"Dude, what the hell?" said Dry-Man to Captain Depresso, "Seriously."

Captain Depresso shrugged, as the amassed heroes sped forward to meet the villains, and the battle was joined. Members of the Paci Custodis fought valiantly against the hordes of the supernatural. Superheroes fought their villains, and at times each other, somehow not dying despite the odds against them. The shapes fought just as well as the heroes, and truth be told, everyone was having a better time than they had had in a while.

"Leave no hero standing!" shouted the Red Scare over the din as he held the Forgiver in his lobster claw.

"You owe me something," said the Forgiver, kicking the Red Scare in his side, forcing the Red Scare to drop him. He landed on his feet, and pounced at the Red Scare, punching him in the jaw and knocking him to the ground. He applied pressure the Red Scare's throat, and leaned in closely. "An apology."

Red Scare looked at him, befuddled.

"Do it!"

"I apologize," said the Red Scare.

"That's all I needed," said the Forgiver, standing up.

Player One was standing nearby, finishing off a ghoul. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" said the Forgiver as the Red Scare crawled away.

"You let him go. He's just going to go off and do more evil."

"He apologized. You have to believe in the power of forgiveness, chum."

"You have entirely too much honor. I mean, look, he just cut the top off a fire hydrant and threw it at the Moonman Marauder. Does he look repentant?"

"I'll do things my way, you do things yours," said the Forgiver, sprinting off to dole out justice and forgiveness to some deserving soul.

The battle raged on. The Astounding Superhero Syndicate assembled, fighting off monkeys and whatnot.

"Dismembro!" shouted Go-To Guy, "Get to it!"

"I can't do anything," said Dismembro, who was a mere head, "I told you, my limbs don't listen to me anymore. I think my left foot might be on its way, but past that, everything is everywhere else."

"Serial Hang-Man?" shouted Go-To Guy.

"He hung himself," said Dismembro.

"Well, that is what he does," said Go-To Guy, "Photogra-She?"

"She's off taking pictures of the battle and Serial Hang-Man."

"Good work, I guess. Two Places at Once Man?"

"Here!" he said, and another man some distance away shouted, "Here!" Both were fighting random psychopaths.

"Well, good to see we're all doing well," said Go-To Guy, and he flew off to fight the giant Nazi mech.

Thus the battle experienced its first casualty, that of the Serial Hang-Man. He got better quickly, and went off to hang himself somewhere else.

Dry-Man faced off against his hated foe, Hydrox, launching bubbles of dryness through his form. Hydro Knight snuck up behind him, leapt in, and began swimming around, causing Hydrox to become quite disoriented. Out of the blue, however, a manatee in a suit leapt into Hydrox, dislodging Hydro Knight.

Hydro Knight gasped at the sight of his sworn enemy...

"Man O. Tee! The Sea Cow of Crime!" said Lifeguard Kitty, who could talk and breathe underwater due to a complex back-story.

"Ha ha! You thought you could do something like this without catching my attention? My flippers are in all manner of crime, and you can't touch me because I'm endangered!"

Hydro Knight and Man O. Tee stared at each other for what seemed like hours, until Hydro Knight muttered, "I hate you."

Doctor Greenthumb used his power of photosynthesis to harness the power of Solar and erect a giant tree-monster, which joined the giant Nazi mech, the Texan, and America's Fastest Growing Criminal in creating general havoc. Solar, significantly weakened, dropped to the ground and found himself at the mercy of the Unibear, a loose cannon bear on a unicycle who was good or evil depending on how well he could keep his balance. In this case, he managed to keep steady and went on to maul Doctor Greenthumb.

"Oh lord," said Solar, "The bears are coming."

On the sidelines, a man who looked like a dirty Shakespeare hopped off a boxcar. This was Motley Shakespeare, and he began writing about the battle before him. Two others leapt off behind him, and they began shooting monkeys with a ray gun which caused them to do nasty things to each other. Motley Shakespeare sighed, and continued writing.

The Neo-Bassets were squaring off with the Crazy Azz Crocker Park Bicycle Pozze. This amounted to several members of the Pozze riding their bikes around the Neo-Bassets and trying to be gangsta.

"You guys are all white!" shouted Fadeaway, "Except him! He's Asian!"

"Don't be a hat-ah!" said the Asian one.

Fadeaway knew better than to punch them, since he had super-strength and they were young punks. He had no idea how they had gotten all the way to South Carolina, really. Benji, being a dog, did not care how young they were, and he attacked one, knocking him off his bike and into the ground.

"Bad dog!" said Fadeaway, "Bad... dog?" He looked up, and saw several man-dogs striding the battlefield, shrugging off nearly everything thrown at them. He turned and came face to face with a lion.

A lion riding on a larger lion.

"What?" said Fadeaway, making himself intangible.

"Honey!" said the lion.

"Okay."

"Let's kill agents!" said the lion, both attacking Fadeaway.

Nearby, more Gemini Twin Troopers appeared as if they had been hiding behind stray air molecules, and they began shooting. A cyborg appeared with a nun and a black man dressed for the disco. An English policeman wearing rocket-boots sped through the air. A man in a Pharaoh's crown instructed a squadron of women to begin the attack. Several more less interesting people stood around angrily. Doctor Aquarius saw this and smiled, for Zodiac had arrived from the depths of time. Leo Leopolous, the king of the lions. Leroy Cancer, their leader and a cyborg. Sister Mary Naida Virgo, who may have been a Vatican double agent. Balthazar Scorpius, the Mastakat, ruler of the disco. Captain Rocket Fumblecorn, crooked bobby. Gamblin' Pharaoh Pisces McCool whose true name was very long, and his Strikeforce of wives. Gem Aries and Wether Tourus, who were basically there because their names corresponded to signs of the Zodiac.

Captain Depresso saw this, and became even more depressed and distraught.

"How dare you not invite the Nantucket Dragon Group?" said a voice from behind him. Captain Depresso turned to see Shoshy Raphael, who had a white coat draped over his shoulders and a ring. To his left were a British pickpocket, a monkey, and a Native American. To his right, a mad looking-man in a robe and a stage magician.

Captain Depresso did the only logical thing in this situation, which was to turn and run. He was too late, however, as the man in a robe reached into his basket of eggs and said, "No one runs from Guy Magistro!" and hurled an egg at the retreating figure, knocking him to the ground. Magistro began pelting others with various colored eggs.

"The Amazing Rando shall make you disappear!" said the magician to Dry-Man, though he merely kicked him in the groin and knocked him down.

Guerdon Trueblood, the Native American, merely began punching Dry-Man.

"Blimey!" said the pickpocket, "This looks like a task befittin' Simon MacCockindale and his Monkey!" He managed to pick Dry-Man's pockets, despite him not having any. Dry-Man was thoroughly beaten.

"Enough fun! We must summon Baggy Satan to ensure our victory! Earth!" said Shoshy Raphael, holding up his ring.

"Wind!" said Guerdon Trueblood.

"Water!" said the Amazing Rando.

"Fire!" said Guy Magistro.

"Momentum!" said Simon.

"Oy! What's all this, then!" said a demon from the netherworld, the nefarious Baggy Satan.

The Nantucket Dragon Group all laughed maniacally while someone who looked like a typical vaudeville villain planted spherical bombs in places to trip up the heroes. This was Snippley Marrowind, and he was quite evil.

Elsewhere, a bear made of moldy pizza joined forces with a man in a bear suit and another bear, both who shot a disturbing liquid from their claws. They ravaged many people.

A giant of a man began to stride the battlefield, golden and glimmering with an afro like you would not believe. He had a disco ball embedded in his chest, and he shot lasers and all who touched him went into hallucinations. He spoke with two voices, and bent in ways no one should. This was Disco, and he could pleasure himself... orally.

More bears, monkeys, pyramids, Gemini Twin Troopers, and wanna-be street toughs seemed to materialize by the second. The bears were being produced by the mysterious Bear Machine, at least. The heroes began to be overwhelmed by sheer numbers.

Then, from nowhere, salvation.

To be continued in 037: Here Comes Mister Lucky

035: The Villains Assemble

2008-08-27T00:36:00.002-04:00

Continued from 034: The Heroes Gather

It had begun not too long ago, after the rescue of Player One and Shrugs. The Red Scare, after regaining consciousness, had become quite angry since he was looking at the dismantling of his plan, looking at what had become of his life. He was nearly forgotten, able to be stopped by a pitiful green creature, able to be tricked by some powerless fool.

This was not to the Red Scare's liking. Not one bit.

He looked at the computer Player Two had used to send his message, and nodded. Now he had their location, and he had a virtual army to command. However, it was still not complete. This was to be his supreme vengeance, perhaps his final attack on a world which continued to reject him. There were others like him, this he knew. He opened the files on the computer and began to read the entries of the super-criminal inmates:

"Hydrox. Formerly petty burglar Burt Easton, turned into a creature comprised entirely of water. Prefers a dragon-like form. Enemy of the New Paragons."

"Doctor Greenthumb. Formerly a respected scientist until he turned himself into a man/plant hybrid. Enemy of the New Paragons."

"America's Fastest Growing Criminal. Accident imbued him with the power to grow and shrink."

"Bootman. He wears a single over-sized boot which grants him indestructibility and some measure of control over his personal gravity."

"The Master Trawler. Pathological liar and notorious pirate."

"The Ohioan. Former Fifty Statesman with the powers of flight, empathy, and perfect balance."

"The Texan. Former Fifty Statesman with the same powers as America's Fastest Growing Criminal."

"The Child Wrangler, a cowboy-themed villain who kidnaps children and warps their minds."

"Watt. William Hewlitt. Powers of electricity."

"Wiper. He performs mind-wipes."

"Bad Higgins?"

Red Scare scoffed. Charlatans, each and every one. Amateur criminals in the truest sense of the word. The fact that they had been put into an asylum proved that. There were so few from the old days left, though. So very few. There was one, however, who was still going strong, and perhaps through him the vengeance of the Red Scare could be complete. He went to a safe in the wall and opened it, pulling out a dusty old walky-talky. He clicked it on and waited several minutes, until a voice on the other end demanded to know who it was.

The Red Scare smiled. "Doctor Aquarius, this is the Red Scare. I request your assistance against a league of heroes we have not seen in some time."

On the other end, Doctor Aquarius stared dumbfounded at the walky-talky. "All reports said you were dead, Red Scare."

"You know as well as I do that the only way you can be sure someone is dead is to grind their body to dust and make a pact with the Devil to ensure their immortal soul remains trapped in the afterlife."

"Well said. I know of some young miscreants who can help us, all over the state of Ohio."

"Ohio?"

"Surprisingly, it has turned into some sort of hotbed for villainy. I believe it has something to do with a dimensional rift situated here, or perhaps mere coincidence. It just so happens that I am also mentoring a group. I lead them, though I let them think they lead themselves. I have managed to secure three Gemini Twin Troopers to aid me."

"Excellent. I shall send you an address over the Internet. This shall be glorious, and perhaps we can deal with all these pretenders in one fell swoop."

The walky-talky clicked off, and Doctor Aquarius stared off into the distance of middle Ohio. Filled with corn and farmlands, and unspeakable evil. Granted, the unspeakable evil was mostly centralized in Athens, where a young man had taken it upon himself to lead a Fifth Reich and somehow secured the aid of Hitler himself, turned into a cyborg, and a giant Nazi mech. The rest of Ohio was little better. To the north, a roving gang calling the Crazy Azz Crocker Park Bicycle Pozze menaced the customers of a shopping center. Lycanthropes roamed the village of Linndale. Sandusky had its sinister sisterhood. Aquarius himself had taken up residence in Tiffin, and had secured himself a spot in a group of ne'er-do-wells there: the Infarious Eleven.

In addition to Doctor Aquarius himself and the three Gemini Twin Troopers, there was the figurehead leader El Presidente, a deluded young man who dreamt of power. The sinister ventriloquist Ernie Indiana utilized his rod puppet Ramses Bert in some sort of criminal endeavor. There was also the Armani Yeti, strong and fierce and on loan from the mafia. Ah, and the Pianoman who could memorize minds with his music. He realized that the team did not have eleven people in it, but paid it no heed. They would have to do.

-

Some time later, Doctor Aquarius and the Red Scare met with their various super-villains outside of South Carolina, ready to ambush the heroes who no doubt waited there.

"We were followed," said Doctor Aquarius.

"By whom?" replied the Red Scare.

"Hey everyone! I'm Chuckles Fairbanks, the Clown Pimp of Crime!" said a clown who had followed them.

They ignored him, and continued speaking. "Did anyone competent follow you?"

"I did," said a disembodied voice which solidified itself into the demon Purga.

"Who are you?" said the Red Scare.

"We seek the same end," said Purga, "I come to offer my assistance. In addition to your mutants and psychopaths, I can lend the aid of demons, vampires, and all matter of evil creature. In fact, it would bring me great pleasure to do so. I bring those wronged by fate and one who now calls himself Mikep, a small green creature-"

"We accept your aid, Purga," said the Red Scare, fire in his eyes.

"I shall bring the Magical Asexual Monkey Person, ruler of thousands of chimps. Doctor Degenerate, once brilliant but a literal former shell of himself. Dox, shapeshifter. Squibbons Johnson, a bizarre combination of undead squid and machine. Also, the mentioned demons and whatnot."

"We meet again," said another voice, stilted, and it manifested itself into a computer wearing an elf hat.

"One of yours, demon?" asked Doctor Aquarius.

"That is Lsadfsagi, whose powers are great. He is filled with malicious whimsy, however, so beware," said Purga.

He clicked his mouse, and a legion of pyramids appeared, at their head one with a goatee and another who was tiny. He then vanished.

"Pyramids?"

"INDEED!" said the goateed Pyramid, "We shall aid you in your evil quest! If you are doing an evil quest."

"All right. I think this will do. Is everyone ready?" said the Red Scare, turning to the legions of villains that had been assembled and finding them to his liking. Watt flew from the ranks and clashed in the distance, returning soon after. "What was that?"

"Scouting. We allowed to kill them?" said Watt, engulfed in electricity.

"I don't see why not."

In the distance, the nursing home exploded.

"We can consider that to be our signal. Attack!" shouted the Red Scare, leading the legions.

Doctor Aquarius sighed, and turned to Purga. "I just wish my comrades from Zodiac were here."

Purga smiled, leaving it behind like the Cheshire Cat, and said, "That can be arranged."

To be continued in 036: The Battle Erupts

034: The Heroes Gather (Part One)

2008-08-27T00:34:00.003-04:00

Should Charleston contact TYRIS?
Yes: 4 votes
No: 1 vote

Charleston figured he might as well contact TYRIS, and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. He was somewhat amazed that it had not been taken from him, but oh well. He dialed TYRIS, got a message about how all active agents had been dispatched, and was told to leave a message in return. He had a guess about where they had all been dispatched to. He put the phone back in his pocket and squinted as he and his group exited the basement and into the light of the sun.

Ah, wait.

That wasn't the sun.

It was two men grappling in the air, each emitting brightness so strong it nearly blinded Charleston. As they dimmed, Charleston noticed they were only the first to arrive, and they were a bit down the street.

"The nursing home," said Player One, "This is going to be pretty bad, isn't it?"

"It already is," said Go-To Guy, "It's going to get far worse before the day is done, I fear. Charleston and Edolie, you two had better find somewhere safe. Preferably somewhere miles away, if you can manage it. Hold on, where did she go?"

Edolie had, in fact, vanished, leaving Charleston alone. "I'll be fine," he said, "I'll just try not to get involved."

Go-To Guy sighed and turned to Shrugs, Player One, Player Two, Graves, Clarence, the Forgiver, Captain Depresso, and the man in the business suit. "We should get over there. No doubt we'll be needed." They left.

"You look like you need to take a seat, friend," said a voice from behind Charleston.

He turned to find Land Captain, sitting on top of Ishmael with a thermos filled with hot cocoa.

"We should probably hang back for a while. I doubt we'd do much good."

Charleston nodded, and climbed onto Ishmael's hood. Up ahead, fights were breaking out.

-

Go-To Guy carried the Forgiver to the rest of the super-heroes. They landed among their allies, the Astounding Superhero Syndicate, who was hastily making plans of attack.

"Where's Mark King?" said Go-To Guy to Clyde the Embryonic Man, who was, as mentioned, a floating telepathic telekinetic embryo.

"I dunno," said Clyde.

"Is everyone else here?"

"El Scientist Magnifico went to establish some sort of medical tent, along with Steve."

"The one who wants to be a doctor?"

"Yep. That jerk-ass."

"As long as they're out of the way. Who else is here from our team?"

"Dismembro, Photogra-She, Two Places at Once Man, Serial Hang-Man, and I have word that our European branch is one their way with Sitting Tricky Pillow Man, Captain Monocle, the Englishman, Scottish Box Man, Britain Sandy, Llewellyn, and the Scooter. They're bringing some guy named Kinetosphere, too. Sounds like trouble to me."

"We need all the man-power we can get, Clyde. Hopefully it'll be enough. Are any others here?"

"Well, there's the New Society of Paragon People..."

-

During World War Two, a team of super-beings arose to combat the Axis of Evil and various other ne'er-do-wells. These beings were called the Paragon People, and in the opening months of the 1950s, they vanished along with their mobile base. Recently, a new team dedicated to the ideals of the original Paragon People arose: the New Society of Paragon People.

"I don't want to do this," said a dark-haired young man in a black and blue jumpsuit with a symbol on its chest of a drop of water with an X through it.

"We have to combat the forces of evil!" said another young man with sandy blonde hair and a bright yellow jumpsuit. He was glowing.

"I'm fine with combating the forces of evil, I just don't think we should do a roll call."

"It'll be fun! I'll go first!" He struck a pose and shouted, "Solar! Infused with the power of the sun's atomic heart!"

The dark-haired young man half-heartedly struck another pose, and said, "Dry-Man. Who can't get wet."

"This is pretty stupid," said a young woman dressed like an aviator, "Vehigirl, who drives you guys places."

"Breakneck!" said another young woman in a skin-tight purple and blue suit and a helmet, "Generic speedster!"

"Bag-Man!" said a young man in a blue jumpsuit and a matching domino mask, "I can pull things out of a bag! Seriously, Solar, you're the only one of us who actually thought this through. We have better things to do than shout out our names."

"Right you are, Bag-Man!" said Solar, "Off to fight evil!"

-

"..and the Neo-Bassets..."

-

The Neo-Bassets were another legacy team, though their precursors were simply adventurers from the 1920s. They had vanished some time ago, but their legacy lived on. This is why it was a legacy team, really.

A young man dressed in a yellow and green jumpsuit was carrying a dog in his arms and a luchadore on his back. A man in armor flew next to him with what appeared to be a human spring. They landed.

"There you go, Benji," he said, letting the dog down. He let the luchadore off his back, and said, "You too, Santos."

"Gracias, Senior Fadeaway," said Santos.

The man in the power armor landed, and struck a pose, "Worry not, fair city! Double O is here, noble protector! I shall single-handedly save the day!" The human spring next to him coughed. Double O did not lose a beat, and added, "With my sidekick Slink-E." Another cough. "And the rest of these hangers-on. Onward to justice! I am Double O, the best and only hero this world needs!"

-

"...and some random solo heroes."

-

Captain Depresso sat on a rock, waiting for the fighting to start so he could get away from it. Before he could do so, several other people walked up to him.

"Captain Depresso?" said an athletically-built young man in a skin-tight suit with meerkat markings on it. He had brown hair, combed into a widow's peak, and a black domino mask. A meerkat sat on his shoulder.

"Yeah?" said Captain Depresso.

"I'm the Meerkat. This is my partner Pilate"

"I'm the Moonman Marauder," said another man wearing those moon-shoes. He wore a gray leotard with a purple cape and cowl. He had a silver belt.

"I'm Hydro Knight," said a man in a suit of armor with gray skin, with a cat dressed like a lifeguard, "This is my sidekick Lifeguard Kitty."

A man dressed in black, much like the Forgiver but with a cowl, said, "I'm the Nightflier."

"So?" said Captain Depresso.

"No one knows more about superheroes and super-villains than you," said the Meerkat, "We were wondering if you'd like to team-up with us."

Captain Depresso hopped off his rock, and shrugged, "Why not? We're all going to die anyway."

-

"That's all for the super-guys?" said Go-To Guy.

"It should be," said Clyde, "I can't keep track of everyone, though."

"Well then, let's get out there and see if we can't keep the property damage to a minimum."

Behind them, the nursing home exploded. The voice of Double O said, "It was Bad Higgins!"

-

Player One, Shrugs, Graves, Clarence, and the man in the business-suit were with several other individuals.

"Anderson," said Player One, "I think we should get out of here. We're all screwed. There's going to be Spanish Ninja Robots all over the place."

The man in the business-suit shrugged and said, "I think we'll be okay. I mean, look, we brought Ben..."

A thin young man with a boxing glove wrapped in oily rags raised his fist.

"Kyle..."

If the first young man was thin, this one was positively emaciated with thick glasses. He seemed to have an unhealthy tint to his skin.

"Tal..."

An athletically-built woman wearing a red beret scowled.

"Mortimer..."

A goat bleated. Anderson was growing increasingly uneasy.

"Chimchim..."

A monkey shook his cage.

"Morrey..."

This man looked normal, except he was standing perfectly still and he looked slightly frightened, as if he could not see.

"...and Jimmy Swift!"

"I'm a lawyer! I don't even know what I'm doing here!" said a thin, arrogant-looking man.

Player One turned to Anderson, and said, "Why the heck did you bring all these guys?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time."

-

Player Two was wandering around the battlefield, and found a chubby young man in a helmet wandering around as well.

"Player Three?"

"Player Two?"

"All right! If Player Four was here, we could have a bona-fide reunion! Player One is over there somewhere. Wait, are you one of us?"

"You mean a Paci Custodis?"

"Yeah."

"Sure am."

"Hot damn!"

"Let's team-up! You and I always did make a great team."

"I'm not gay, Two."

"Never said you were, Three."

"All right then."

-

A young woman dressed in dark clothing drove up on a motorcycle with a sidecar. A bubbly blonde girl was in the sidecar, babbling incoherently.

"What are we doing here, Player Four?" said the blonde girl.

"There's going to be trouble," said other woman, "We need to be here to help make sure things don't get out of hand."

"You think Player One is going to be here, don't you?"

"So what if I do?"

"Nothing. Just nothing."

In the distance, the nursing home exploded.

"It's already starting," said Player Four.

To be continued in 035: The Villains Assemble

033: The World That's Coming

2008-08-24T01:24:00.002-04:00

How should they hit them?
Hard and fast: 4 votes
Slow and stealthy: 1 vote

"You're talking to several men of action, chum. What do you think?" said the Forgiver.

"We're all dressed in black," Player One replied, "Except for Shrugs and E. Are you sure you want to go in? You're wearing a flowing white robe. The last time I saw someone try to do that they got torn up pretty badly."

"What happened to them?" said E.

"They fell down some stairs."

"I think I'll be all right."

"All right, then. Let's hit them hard and fast!" said Player One, stepping towards the glowing portal. He stopped and turned on his heel. "Superheroes and E, are you the not killing kind?"

"My parents were killed by a fiendish man in an alley," said the Forgiver, "Since that day, I swore never to take a life. Even an unlife."

Captain Depresso shrugged and opened his mouth to say something, but then just nodded and said, "Not intentionally, anyway."

"I'd rather not," said E.

Player One sighed. Here he was, going into a portal filled with a bunch of vampires, and he was stuck with three people who'd be too busy trying not to get killed to be of any use. He was thankful he had Shrugs with him, who he knew to have no qualms when sending a vampire to its eternal rest. Player Two's methods, however, were a closed book to him. While they had known each other for years, the last time they actually spoke to each other was before either one became part of the Paci Custodis. Still, he was a Paci Custodis. That had to mean something, and therefore, he had a plan of sorts.

"Shrugs and Captain Depresso, you two try to get as many of the minor vampires out of the way as possible. Player Two and E, try to find this Charleston guy and get him out of here, taking care of whoever gives you trouble. Forgiver, you and I will go after the False Prophet," said Player One, to several nods. Player Two, however, stood with arms folded.

"Why do you get to go after the Prophet?" said Player Two.

"I've never seen you fight vampires before. If were playing some video game with Players Three and Four and these guys, I'd put you on my team in a second. Right now, though, we're trying to rescue some guy and take out some vampires and I have no idea how well you can do that I really don't want anyone to die tonight. Well, none of us. Or that Charleston guy. As many vampires as we can get, though."

"Fair enough," said Player Two, standing next to E.

"All right, then!" said Player One, "Weapons ready, everyone! Well, Paci Custodis! I'd suggest you civilian-type people pick up something once we get in there."

Player One pulled his modified video game gun out, and made sure he had some spare cartridges and a knife. Shrugs had decided to use a crossbow with headless bolts, but he also had a rifle, just in case. Player Two had what appeared to be some sort of cannon, which he could apparently club people to death with, should the need arise.

Two by two, they entered the portal. It was empty and dark inside for a moment, and then it erupted with a hellish red light. A demonic purple entity sat upon a disc, and smiled fiendishly at the sextet.

"I am the demonic entity Purga," he said, flapping his immense wings and gesturing towards the sextet, "What do you seek here?"

Player One stepped forward, "There were supposed to vampires in here. All I'm seeing is you."

"I know of the False Prophet well. He has served me for centuries, in fact, and so at times I feel the need to intervene. I'll not let him fall to the likes of you. How foolish to think that you could just barge in and destroy a being who has been alive longer than the lot of you. The things he has done and seen and your only thought is to destroy him. What purpose would that serve?"

"One more dead vampire, and maybe all of the people he bit would be human again."

"Why would anyone want to be human?" Player One began to speak, but was hushed by Purga, "None of you are worthy to speak on behalf of humanity. All of you have either been tainted by divinity, or aspire to be as one who has. Since none of you have wronged me, I shall let you live."

Player One sighed. Every bone in his body was telling him to try and kill this demon, but his mind was asking how they would get out of this red room if the demon died if that happened. Eventually, the mind won out, and had an addendum: "Could you let us have Charleston Charge, though? We sort of came here to rescue him."

The demon looked shocked. "Charge?"

"Charleston Charge."

"Perhaps I have been too hasty in my defense of my False Prophet."

"From what I hear, it was his ex-girlfriend what done it."

The demon waved his clawed hand at them dismissively, "You can kill her, then. A few others who have been having ideas above their station, as well." The sextet vanished from the realm of Purga, and the demon began to ponder. "It appears that we shall have a problem soon enough. A Charge. No matter, we can easily take him from his protectors. Some assembly required, of course!" He threw back his head and began to laugh maniacally, well-aware that there was no one around to hear his joke, and there was little chance they would have gotten it anyway.

The sextet, meanwhile, reappeared outside the stone doors which led now to a simple hallway. The darkness took the shape of several young ladies, one of whom was leading Charleston Charge on a leash.

"I hate girl vampires," said Player One, "It almost feels wrong to take them out."

The lead vampire held out her hand, motioning for her comrades to stop. "You speak to the Mouth of the Prophet. What do you want?"

"Him!" said E, pointing at Charleston.

"He's such a docile thing, though, and I doubt any of you could reverse what I've done to him. The only way you could do that is by slaying the False Prophet, and you can't do that. I doubt you could even destroy me. Why-" Before she could say another word, a bullet tore through her head.

The sextet froze as the body slumped to the ground. From behind them, they heard voices.

"Women should keep their mouth shut," said a priest who was standing on the stairs.

"Graves?" choked out Player One, "What are you doing here?"

"Not now, gamer fag!" said Graves as another man in a suit came running down the stairs with a mallet, bringing it up as one of the vampires leapt at the inattentive Player One.

"PIE FLOWERS!" he shouted with obvious glee as he broke the vampire's jaw.

Player One shrugged and began shooting the remaining vampires, along with Player Two and Shrugs. An overweight man in a dress was attempting to tear off Charleston's head, however, and was quickly stopped by Shrugs.

"We need to keep that guy safe, Clarence!" shouted Player One as he pulled out his knife and stabbing one of the vampires, "He's Charleston Charge but I think he got turned into a ghoul!"

"Men can't get changed into ghouls, that's witchcraft," said Clarence as Charleston began to convulse.

"Ghoul, not girl, you stupid fu-" began Graves as more vampires came from the tunnel, drawn by the sounds of battle.

"Language!" said another voice.

The Forgiver, who had backed into a corner with Captain Depresso and E, looked up in surprise. "Go-To Guy?"

"In the flesh, Forgiver. Now, what... what's going on here?" said Go-To Guy, looking at the carnage ensuing.

"Vampires!"

"We're not supposed to fight vampires," said Go-To Guy, quietly. He then flew upwards and put his weight against the floor of the house, and suddenly the entire house was pulled off its foundation, exposing the remaining vampires to the sunlight and causing them to retreat, leaving Charleston behind. E ran over to him and helped him up as Players One and Two attempted to stop the businessman with a mallet from chasing the vampires, and a cacophony ensued:

"What happened?" said Charleston.

"You were changed into a ghoul, but that gentleman in the dress changed you back," said E.

E and Charleston looked at Clarence, who smiled toothlessly at them.

"Whatever. I think I'm over Lauren now, Edolie," said Charleston.

E, or Edolie, smiled at him, "I'm glad."

"Why is everyone here?" said Player One.

"We got a message from a Player Two," said Go-To Guy.

"So did we," said the man in the business-suit, trying to hide the mallet and looking slightly embarrassed.

"When did you send a message?" asked the Forgiver.

"When we were in that asylum. I sent out some emails and stuff," said Player Two.

"I thought you were tying up the Red Scare."

"The who what now?"

"The scientist with a claw for an arm."

"You know, I forgot all about him."

"Hold on, the guy who tried to build a wall around the United States?" said Charleston, "I thought those were all just stories."

"Everything you've heard is real, Charleston," said Edolie.

"I've heard a lot! Also, how are you alive?"

"I dived into the water, and emerged changed."

"Hold on!" shouted Player One, and everyone was silent. "So what I'm hearing is that Player Two sent out a message to every superhero group and Paci Custodis in the area, in a room with a seriously bad guy in it. Did you at least turn off the computer?"

"Slipped my mind," said Player Two.

"So some super-villain knows where all these superheroes are probably headed, a super-villain with an asylum filled with hideous mutant freaks, psychopaths, and other super-villains."

"At least I kept my mouth shut with the demon."

"Oh crap."

Charleston sagged in Edolie's arms.

"Just be glad he put down the wrong address," said the business-man, "We stopped at that nursing home because that's what the message said."

At this point, everyone in the basement paused, and shared glances with each other, and eventually setting their gazes on Player Two.

"Should we even leave this basement?" said the business-man, staring at the stairs which lead to nowhere.

Minutes passed, and eventually they went up the stairs, one by one, into the sunlight, into the world that was coming, and they all prayed they weren't too late, little realizing that they had always been too late.

Charleston only wondered, as he went up the stairs, whether he should contact TYRIS or not. It probably didn't matter, but he still wondered.

Should Charleston contact TYRIS?
-Yes
-No

032: Six to Salvation

2008-08-20T03:19:00.000-04:00

Should Player One and Shrugs join forces with Player Two, the Forgiver, and Captain Depresso?
Yes: 5 votes
No: 1 vote

Moments later, Player One had defeated Player Two, a fact partially attributed to the judiciously applied pillow-case of Justice, utilized by Shrugs in an attempt to get things over with. Before Player One could begin another game, the Forgiver unplugged the television and placed Player One in a chair.

"I was kind of too busy to think about whether or not you guys should come with us, so just give me a few more minutes and I'll get back to you," said Player One.

Shrugs hit him in the back of the head and pointed to the Forgiver, captain Depresso, and Player Two. He gave them a thumbs-up, and nodded while heading towards the door.

"I'm glad that's settled," said the Forgiver, fastening his cape, "Onward to the Rentawagon!"

The quintet left the hotel room and piled into the Forgiver's rented van before they realized they had to pay the bill. The Forgiver went to square things away, and several currency and bureaucracy-filled moments later, he returned and started the van.

"Onward to South Carolina!" he cried, leaning out the window slightly, "Let the unrepentant know that where they are, the Forgiver will go!"

Player One, sitting behind him, snorted and made a unintelligible but obviously disparaging comment about the Forgiver's rhyme which he and Player Two proceeded to laugh at. It was no skin off the Forgiver's nose, however, and the quintet was off to rescue Charleston Charge.

Days later, kept on track by the Forgiver and Shrugs, the quintet arrived in South Carolina. After a brief rest and recuperation session, they piled back into the Rentawagon and made their way to Charleston Charge's location. Player One passed the time by looking out the window:

"Box house, box house, box house, all these freaking houses look like boxes, nursing home, box house, box house. My God, how are we going to tell which one it is?"

Shrugs, who had purchased a chalkboard and some chalk at an outlet mall, wrote "We have address" on his chalkboard, and smacked Player One. Shrugs had not enjoyed the trip. He proceeded to write down the address for the benefit of the Forgiver.

"The street number is 12076?" asked Player Two.

Shrugs wrote, "Yes ???"

"No reason," said Player Two, doing his best to look nonchalant.

Shrugs made a mental note to inquire about this later, if the opportunity presented itself. He could not do so now, as the van stopped in front of a small house. A cloaked woman stood outside, as if waiting for them. This was because this was precisely what she was doing.

Player One and Player Two had a minor tussle trying to get out of the van, and both collapsed in a heap on the street. Shrugs stepped over them. Captain Depresso and the Forgiver exited their respective doors, both having obtained the front seats.

Player One stood up, using Player Two to right himself, and smiled at the robed woman. "Hello, E! I was wondering what happened to you on the bus."

"I was required elsewhere, but I've now returned. I see you have brought allies."

Player One nodded and said, "Sure did! Two superheroes and another Paci Custodis. I've known this guy my whole life."

"Shall we continue?" said the robed woman.

The quintet expressed half-hearted agreement, and followed her into the house. The remains of Rocky Rode had been picked clean by something, though no one wanted to imagine what. They went through the house and into the basement, finally standing in front of the portal Charleston had entered some time previously.

"They'll be expecting us, no doubt," said E.

"So we either hit them so hard and fast that they can't see what's coming, or slow and all stealthy like ninja," said Player One, "Which one do you guys think is best?"

How should they hit them?
-Hard and fast
-Slow and stealthy

031: Asylum to Remember

2008-08-15T01:37:00.002-04:00

Should Captain Depresso let Player Two come?
Yes: 6 votes
No: 1 vote

Captain Depresso shrugged and said, "Why not?"

"Hurrah!" shouted Player Two, "Drinks on me, everyone!"

"On your tab, you mean, ribbit?" said the Loveland Frog, his froggy eyes filled with bitterness.

"Whatever," said Player Two, grabbing a random bottle of beer and chugging it, "Do either of you have a car or anything?"

"No," said Captain Depresso, pouring out his bottle of beer, much to the Loveland Frog's chagrin.

"I only use vehicles in times of extreme duress. It interferes with my tracking ability," said the Forgiver, refusing his bottle.

"We don't need to track anyone now. It's an asylum outside of Cleveland," said Player Two, "How hard could it be to find?"

"You're right! Onward to repentance!"

The Forgiver exited Loveland's with a flourish, Captain Depresso with his shoulders hunched and his eyes on the ground, and Player Two hastily grabbing his belongings.

Two weeks passed, and all three men were in desperate need of a shower and a shave. Captain Depresso had become even more miserable, and the Forgiver's tracking skills were the only thing keeping the trio alive in the wilderness. Unfortunately, he specialized in tracking people, and not animals, and Player Two was the only one willing to do any sort of hunting. Captain Depresso's self-centered sulk, however, made him a curiosity to the local wildlife. This saved time, in the long run, and all three men were eating parts of a squirrel, roasted on a spit with an acorn in its mouth.

"You know what? This is almost the worst part of my life so far," said Captain Depresso, looking forlornly at the squirrel and slowly becoming Captain Seething-With-Rage-and-a-Gnawing-Hunger, "That's saying a lot. What I want to know is, how did none of us realize that Cleveland is a major metropolitan area and is bound to have a pretty large outside of area. Especially since we all operate in major metropolitan areas. Now, if either of you were with the Neo-Bassets, I could kind of understand. They operate in a small town, after all, and outside of it is pretty limited, kind of. Also, they're in the country, so they'd know if there was an asylum anywhere near them. Also, they all have super-powers."

"I've kind of got super-powers," said Player Two, gnawing on a branch.

"You only have super-powers when some sort of supernatural entity is about, and I doubt any of them would be helpful right now."

"So I guess you two don't want to start a superhero trio, then?"

Captain Depresso had no superpowers, unless you counted nigh-limitless reserves of depression within his soul a super-power. However, at certain times, he could utilize a stare with the intensity of a thousand imploding stars, which did no damage but made it clear that if you kept talking then he would break his super-heroic oath of non-killing just to shut you up. Player Two got the message, and continued gnawing on his branch silently.

The Forgiver watched all of this with a concerned expression. He felt that, as the elder of the three, he was somehow responsible for the two young men. He had never seen Captain Depresso like this, except perhaps before his accident, but he had encountered members of the Paci Custodis before. Player Two's abilities were not to be discounted, especially since you were probably in trouble if they perked up. All in all, he thought that he should do something to diffuse the situation, and so he smiled and said, "Let's all start a sing-song!"

Perhaps it was providence that made the bulbous-headed flesh-eating midgets attack at that point, or perhaps it was just coincidence. Whichever one it was, the three men sprang into action, somewhat limited by malnutrition. All three were used to the lackluster sleeping arrangements they had encountered on this impromptu camping trip. Player Two quickly turned his branch into a club, and began whacking midgets while shouting various quotes from Nintendo games. The Forgiver, highly trained in most martial arts, was using his own body as a weapon, knocking out midgets left and right. Captain Depresso half-heartedly slapped at them as they came near.

"Captain Depresso! Use your rage!" shouted the Forgiver as he picked up one of the midgets and hurled it at another.

Captain Depresso thought for a moment. He had an image to keep up, but the only people out here were a fellow super-hero, a Paci Custodis, and a bunch of flesh-eating bulbous-headed midgets. Not only that, but he had not always been Captain Depresso. He had once been a rich, well-rounded, happy person and that had been taken away from him so dramatically that it had launched him into a constant state of mid-level depression. He was also quite hungry, and needed to hit something badly. Since the Forgiver was his friend and Player Two was his ally, that left the midgets.

He lashed out with a fist, remembering how it felt to actually fight crime instead of sulking at it, and taking out a midget. He laughed, and said, "Take that, you melon-head!" He felt the old repartee come back to him, as well. The trio fought valiantly for some time, but soon the twin threats of exhaustion and the sheer number of melon-heads doomed them. One by one, they fell, each fully expecting to be some melon-head's dinner. Instead, like ants picking up a ham, each man was carried away to an ominous building on a hill, silhouetted against the moon, surrounded by ornate wrought-iron gates.

Why yes, that IS the asylum they were headed to.

They woke up, strapped to tables with various medical tubes poking into them. The melon-heads were caged, and a tall thin man in a lab coat stood with his back to them, staring out the window at the forests surrounding the asylum.

"Wha hoppened?" said Captain Depresso, noticing that he had been left in his so-called costume. None of this bode very well.

He heard a sigh from both sides.

"Now he's going to monologue," said Player Two.

"Of course he is, he's the Red Scare!" said the Forgiver.

The man turned around, revealing a right arm which was a giant crab-claw and a bearded face. He snapped the claw, and smiled a sinister smile.

"Indeed I am," he said.

"Who?" said Player Two. Captain Depresso groaned.

The Red Scare stormed over to Player Two, but began pacing back and forth and waving his arms around while he spoke. "I am the Red Scare, you insolent whelp! Once upon a time, I fought the forces of both the Basset Hound Brigade and CAST, but it was my opus that proved to be my undoing. After yet another defeat at the hands of the agents of CAST, I turned my attentions to benevolence, to the protection of the United States of America, a land which I hold so dear that I began constructing a massive brick wall around it. Yet, once I completed the wall at the Mexican border, a small green creature and his companions confounded me by exploding and destroying my beautiful wall. At this point, I went mad and made my way north in pursuit of this creature and committing random minor atrocities in my wake. Eventually, however, I was stopped in my pursuit by that infernal Moonman Marauder and his so-called pal, Scoop Griswald. How I hate them! I was imprisoned here, alongside other so-called mad scientists and super-villains under the pretense that no one would think of looking for us in Ohio. It was mere child's play to take over this asylum and turn it over to a new goal: the capture and brainwashing of various super-beings! Soon, I shall have an army with which to take over Ohio, and then the world!" He began to laugh maniacally.

All three men were silent, and the Red Scare put his open claw to the Forgiver's throat.

"Say it!" he commanded, "Say it!"

"Say what?" said the Forgiver, trying not to swallow.

"Call me a fiend and tell me I'll never get away with it!"

"All right. You'll never get away with it, you fiend!"

"Ah, like audio ambrosia. The green creature never called me a fiend, either. Someday I shall find him and make him pay for his insolence."

"How many soldiers do you have? Also, what the hell are those things?" said Player Two, motioning to the melon-heads.

"None, alas. It's quite hard to get heroes and the more powerful class of super-villain admitted to an asylum, regrettably. However, I have the Player One and the Shrugs, and they led you three to me. A plan emerges like Venus on the half-shell! A thing of simple beauty, oh yes! Using you three as bait, I can gather more and more super-beings, each none the wiser about the true goings-on at this asylum! Glorious!"

"Fine, but what the hell are those things?"

"They were already here. Some sort of experiment, I think. Quite useful, and actually very easy to train. I wish I stumbled upon them years ago."

"At this point, I would like to say that the Paci Custodis are not allowed to tangle with super-villains, so you should just let me go," said Player Two.

"It's too late for that," said the Forgiver, "In fact, I'd wager we'll all in this pretty deep."

"I have a question," said Captain Depresso, "What happened to the super-villains here?"

"Oh, they're still here, as well as many garden-variety psychopaths. All in all, I'm quite well off, but there's nothing like the psychological edge of pitting one's erstwhile allies against each other. Indeed, my scheme shall have a magnificent pay-off, the stuff of legends!"

"This really blows. I mean, seriously. Also, I thought we had to save Player One so we could help him save some other guy? That other guy is probably dead by now. Ah, and wouldn't someone have come looking for us by now?"

"They probably are, and they'll just use our various tracking devices to find us, most likely, and once they find out what they're up against, if they haven't already, why, you'll have quite a fight on your hands, Red Scare," said the Forgiver.

"Yeah, I have two jobs, and one of them is bound to be looking for me!" said Player Two, "One of those jobs includes a bunch of monsters, by the way. You're in for some SFB, Red Scare."

"Ha! You expect me to fall for that? You three are expendable!" said the Red Scare.

"Expendable like those little strings you used to get in action figures," said Player Two, "You'd throw them away and find out later how much you needed them. We're like that."

"Captain Depresso, can't Fadeaway become invisible and intangible? He could sneak in here without any effort!" said Forgiver.

"Yeah, he could," said Captain Depresso, "Maybe Clyde is just using our minds as a listening device, too. Perhaps this whole thing was planned from the start, just to catch you off-guard and put an end to your evil scheme, Red Scare."

"You're just trying to frighten me. Also, that metaphor was awfully forced."

"OH MY GOD LOOK OUT THE WINDOW!" said the Forgiver with such force and surprise that everyone looked out the window. He quickly slipped out of his shackles and tore the tubes from his arm, and grabbed something heavy-looking from a table. He used this to hit the Red Scare in the back of his head, and the super-villain slumped to the ground. The Forgiver looked at his companions and smiled, saying, "Good job keeping him talking while I undid my bonds. Let's lock him up and alert someone to the goings-on here."

"Don't you have to make him apologize?" said Captain Depresso.

As the Forgiver spoke, he undid the shackles of Captain Depresso and Player Two, "Young man, I have been stuck out in the woods for two weeks with little food and very little hygiene. I am dirty, hungry, tired, bearded, and on of those melon-heads took a chunk of meat from my leg. I'll come back and get my apology after a good meal, a good night's sleep, a nice hot shower, and a shave. Also, with about three dozen other super-heroes so we can get this place back up to snuff. Let's find Player One and Shrugs, and get the heck out of there."

As Captain Depresso and the Forgiver left the room to search for Player One and Shrugs, Player Two saw a laptop lying underneath a table. He picked it up, turned it on, and uploaded the room directory. He recognized some of the names, but kept searching until he found Player One and Shrugs. Before he turned the laptop off and told his companions of this news, he opened the laptop's Internet browser and, after looking some things up, he sent out an email. Neglecting to turn off the laptop, he hurried after the two super-heroes to free Player One and Shrugs.

-

The Forgiver, being rich, was able to afford several hotel rooms where Players One and Two, Shrugs, Captain Depresso, and the Forgiver spent listless several days recuperating. Players One and Two, who had not seen each other in years, were overjoyed to be reunited and spent most of the time playing video games on the hotel's television. After forcibly separating the pair from it and making them shower and shave, the Forgiver held a meeting.

"From here, the only two people who really need to go are Player One and Shrugs. I figure we're in deep enough trouble as it is, so it won't hurt if the rest of us tag along to provide some support. If you two want to, of course," said the Forgiver.

"I'm game," said Player Two, "That was a pun."

"No it wasn't," said the Forgiver, "How about you, Captain Depresso?"

"Yeah, sure, why not?" said Captain Depresso, who had defaulted to his normal mindset.

"Will you have us?" said the Forgiver.

"Let Shrugs and me think it over for a minute," said Player One, "Or until I kick Player Two's butt at Super Smash Brothers again."

"So you'll be thinking about it forever?" said Player Two with a smirk.

"Shut up!" said Player One.

Should Player One and Shrugs join forces with Player Two, the Forgiver, and Captain Depresso?
-Yes
-No

030: Loveland's

2008-08-03T02:14:00.002-04:00

What should Clyde do?
-Contact the Forgiver telepathically: 9 votes
-Leave the Forgiver a note: 0 votes
-Leave a note for someone else to do it: 0 votes

Clyde pondered his predicament. It would seem that the lazier he wanted to be, the more effort he had to exert. However, the very essence of being lazy was exerting as little effort as possible. He decided to just contact the Forgiver telepathically, and then go off for a smoke. Despite being an embryo, he was well within the legal age to do such a thing. He concentrated, and soon established a rapport with the Forgiver:

"Hey, Forgiver! We got a mission for you. You need to find that Captain Depresso jerk-ass and head to some asylum outside Cleveland. Got it?"

"Indeed I do, old chum," thought the Forgiver, who looked a bit like Zorro without the hat and mustache, and also white as an egg, "The Forgiver will find him, and together we'll do that which we need to do. Which is what, exactly?"

"You need to find this dick-wad named Player One and bust him out. Apparently, the asylum they put him and his pal in isn't on the level. That's what they tell me, at least."

"I'm on it. I'll find Captain Depresso, or my name isn't the Forgiver!"

"Thanks," said Clyde, closing the rapport and heading off for a cigar.

Meanwhile, the Forgiver was standing outside an especially strange bar, coincidentally in the downtown Cleveland area. He turned to a young man who was staring down at the ground. Like the Forgiver, he wore nothing but black, but he wore no mask. He had no loved ones to protect, and this was why he called himself Captain Depresso.

The Forgiver turned to Captain Depresso, and said, "Clyde said I should find you. You've been found, old chum. Now how's about you and I go in and find this murderer?"

"Yeah, sure. Whatever," said Captain Depresso, following the Forgiver into the bar.

All the occupants of the bar stopped and stared at the newly-arrived superheroes, and the superheroes did the same.

Captain Depresso looked up and then looked at the Forgiver.

"Is that Bigfoot?" he said, pointing to a large humanoid in a suit. Or, at least with pieces of suit fabric stapled to him.

"I believe that's the Armani Yeti," said the Forgiver, stepping back towards the door, "He's part of the Infarious Eleven."

"Infarious?"

"The leader is an idiot. In any case, if he's here, then I've no doubt our troublemaker is somewhere around here."

"I thought we weren't supposed to do stuff like this. We're superheroes, and they're supernatural creatures. We could get in trouble."

"Ah, that's where you're wrong. Bigfoot and whatnot, they're classified as crypto-zoological creatures. So we can do what we please with them, they're fair game."

"Why are they here, though?"

"This is Loveland's," said a new voice, belonging to a relatively average looking man stepping out of a backroom, "Where crypto-zoological creatures and various other supernatural beings can come to get away from people like you. Who are you two, anyway? White Zorro and Super Emo Kid?"

"I'm the Forgiver, and this is my associate, Captain Depresso. Who might you be, as if I needed to ask, Player Two?"

"Yeah, I'm Player Two. Is this about that guy? Or should I say, that vampire piece of crap? I'm supposed to kill them! It's my job!"

"Tell that to my dead parents!" shouted the Forgiver as he lunged at Player Two.

Player Two tried to drop and roll, but was too late, and soon the Forgiver had him pinned to the ground, with a baton pressed against his throat. The Forgiver leaned in so close that his nose was nearly touching Player Two's, and said, raspily, "Are you sorry?"

"I don't want trouble!" croaked a voice from behind the bar, "Ribbit ribbit!"

"There'll be no trouble if this sinner repents!" said the Forgiver, turning to the speaker, the bipedal Loveland Frog.

"Yeah, fine! I'm sorry!" said Player Two.

"Do you really mean it?" said the Forgiver.

"Yes!"

The Forgiver stood up, and held out his hand to Player Two, who cautiously accepted it.

"Is that it?" said Player Two, brushing himself off.

"Unless my associate has anything to say about it."

"Meh," said Captain Depresso. Neither he nor anyone but the Loveland Frog had really cared about the brief skirmish between the Forgiver and Player Two.

With a flourish, the Forgiver turned and said, "Well then. I guess we're off, then."

"You never said where we're going," said Captain Depresso, kicking the floor arrythmically.

"We have to find some guy named Player One. He's stuck in an asylum outside Cleveland," said the Forgiver.

"Player One?" said Player Two and Captain Depresso simultaneously.

"Indeed, old chums."

"I like him. He's not too bad," said Captain Depresso.

"I haven't heard from him in years," said Player Two, "I want to come with you guys if you go get him."

"That's up to Captain Depresso," said the Forgiver.

"Uh..." said Captain Depresso, avidly aware that he had quickly been put on the spot.

Should Captain Depresso let Player Two come?
-Yes
-No

029: Astounding Superhero Syndicate

2008-07-30T01:29:00.002-04:00

Who should GR... er, Player One call?
Home: 1 vote
TYRIS: 1 vote
Last resort: 4 votes

Player One sat in his cell. To his disappointment, it was not one with the classic bars. Instead, they put him into a plastic room in a strait-jacket. Apparently, Shrugs was also incarcerated in some way in the same building, obviously suffering from some sort of insanity. Player One knew that he and Shrugs were the sane ones here, the ones who could see beyond the exterior into the decayed red eyes of the interior. However, he still had an ace in the hole: the one phone call any prisoner is entitled to. Shrugs was also, technically, entitled to a phone call but his refusal to use modern technology forfeited this privilege. Player One had asked if he could use Shrugs's phone call, and was starkly refused. Now, he had to figure out who to call, an exercise which had so far resulted in failure due to injections and beatings and whatnot. He breathed deeply, sat on the floor, and closed his eyes: he needed some help with this. As he breathed, he found himself transported, at least psychologically, to a world out of a fantasy novel. He was dressed in a green tunic, and was free of the strait-jacket, but still couldn't move his arms. Oh well.

A princess walked up to him and curtsied, "Greetings, Player One. You have need of my wisdom?"

"Indeed I do, fair princess. I've been thrown in a dungeon because they think I'm crazy, and I can send a message to only one person."

"You need to decide which person will do you the most good?"

"Yes. I could call my housemates."

"They would most likely chastise and punish you for leaving. Did you not say that most of them seem to dislike you?"

"Yeah, I think they do, at least. I could call TYRIS, the ones who sent me on this quest."

"There are others who can complete it, should you fail. Do you have anyone else in mind?"

"I have a lot of other people in mind, but either I don't know where they are or they'd be unwilling to help. There is one person, though, who's not too bad and doesn't think I'm too bad either. He's a superhero."

"Perhaps he is the one you should call, then. Fare thee well, Player One. Godspeed!"

Player One woke up, and began shouting for his phone call. Half an hour later, they brought him a tranquilizer and a phone. After they undid his strait-jacket, they handed him the phone and he clumsily but accurately pushed the buttons.

"Hello, is this... that thing? The Astounding Superhero Syndicate?" he said, feeling the effects of the drug.

"You have reached the Astounding Superhero Syndicate," said the answering machine, "Please leave your name and emergency, and we will get back to you as soon as possible, citizen."

"Aw, man. This is Player One. I'm the guy what tried to get in on your team thing. Well, I'm on a quest but now I'm in an asylum outside of Cleveland, and I sort of need help getting out, so I was wondering if you could get my pal out here to bust me out. You know, he's all sad and stuff. Could you get him here? Thanks a lot." Player One dropped the phone, and looked up at the guard, "I got the machine, could I have another call?"

"One call, crazy-pants," said the guard, slamming the door and turning off the light, leaving Player One in darkness.

Player One mused that this was becoming a very complicated mission.

-

Two days later, two members of the Astounding Superhero Syndicate stood by the phone. One was a statuesque gentleman, adorned in a suit of primary colors. He was Go-To Guy, the World's Mightiest Mormon. The other was a giant floating embryo. This was Clyde, the Embryonic Man, and he had neglected to tell anyone that Player One had called.

"Guy's a jerk-ass," said Clyde, projecting his words directly into Go-To Guy's head.

"Language, Clyde," said Go-To Guy, "Just because you don't like Player One doesn't mean his distress is any less important than anyone else's."

"He wanted Captain Depresso, it sounded like. Only thing is, we can't find the guy. He's not really a member of anything right now, he's just sort of wandering around being an emo jerk-ass."

"Language, Clyde," sighed Go-To Guy, "Do we know where he is?"

"Didn't you hear? Player One was arrested. They threw him and his pal into jail for being crazy, thank God. Why should we send anyone to help him?"

"I thank God every day for these powers, my wives, and this life I've been given, Clyde. Besides, I had El Scientist Magnifico run a check. Those cops and that asylum aren't on the level! We need someone to check it out, anyway, and I was thinking we could send the Forgiver to track down this Captain Depresso and the two of them can check out the Asylum. Perhaps they can help him with his quest, too."

"The guy murdered some people."

"He claims they were zombies."

"Yeah, well, whatever. I'll get on the horn and get Forgiver to track down Captain Depresso. I just hope you know what you're doing, Go-To Guy."

"God guides my path," said Go-To Guy, walking away.

"Jerk-ass," said Clyde to himself, "Aw man. I don't want to talk to the Forgiver. Bastard's intense! Maybe I can just leave him a note, or something. Maybe I'll just leave a note here so someone else can take of it. Man, I need me a smoke."

What should Clyde do?
-Contact the Forgiver telepathically
-Leave the Forgiver a note
-Leave a note for someone else to take care of it

028: Player One and Shrugs Revealed

2008-07-23T23:09:00.003-04:00

What should GR do?
Ignore the bus driver: 0 votes
Watch the bus driver from afar: 6 votes
Watch the bus driver more closely: 2 votes

The following is a look into the mind of GR:

"The driver should be watched. I don't want to go up there and actually sit by him, though. I'll just sit here and watch that driver. I will focus all my attention on that driver, and I will watch him with a ferocity seen only in lost jungle tribes. He will know he is being watched, and when I'm done watching him he'll feel like a new man, I will watch him so hard.

Okay, I must have been watching him for a few hours by now.

Forty seconds.

I've only been watching him for forty seconds?

Whatever. I'll just sit back, relax, and start watching him again. A little bit less intensely, maybe. I need to make sure my eyes are in this for the long haul. In fact, maybe I should look out the window every so often so they don't get too strained or tired. Not too long, though, because that driver needs to be watched, for some reason, and-

Was that a cow?

No. It was a rusted-out pick-up truck. Yes, the driver needed to be-

Was that a cow?

Oh my god yes, it was a cow. It was a brown cow and oh my god there's another cow! There's a whole flock of cows or whatever! A herd of cows? Yes, a herd of cows and it was right out there out the window!

I'm going to that window over there, where the action is. This is just fantastic. So freaking amazing. Amos is still asleep, good. E must be in the bathroom or something, because I don't see her anywhere. Oh well, who cares about her when there are cows to be watched. Many, many cows-

Oh. My. God.

Are those buffalo?

It is buffalo. This must be a buffalo farm or something, because there's a bunch of buffalo right there and this might be even greater than the cows. Few things could top-

Are those emu?

I feel like I just did the most amazing thing ever about fifteen million times. I feel simply amazing. Any regrets I had about this bus ride are gone, and I am prepared to say that is was one of the greatest things I have ever done. There is absolutely nothing that could top this trip, and the best part is that once we're done in South Carolina, we'll be coming back this way and I can see the emu, buffalo, and cows again. Maybe I can pick up a second-hand Nintendo DS or Sony PSP in South Carolina, so I have something to do in between watching the animals. Yes indeed, there is nothing that could upset this trip.

Wait, wasn't there something I was supposed to do?

Something about the driver?

Hey, there's a train!

Hold on. Hold on. I'm remembering something... something the driver said when we first started.

Oh shit. I think we're in trouble."

So ends our look into GR's mind.

At this point, the driver was speeding towards the train and the momentum of the bus was far too great to stop it in time. Both train and bus were screwed, but perhaps there was something GR could do to at least save a few lives. The train looked as if it was a freight train, which was good, as it meant none of the cars had people on them. Perhaps a few hobos, riding the rails, but they knew the risk and could handle themselves.

GR thought quickly. In times of great stress, the body does odd things. It made GR see supernatural beings as pixilated ducks. Before his very eyes, the driver turned into a duck. It looked rather comical, driving a bus and being a pixilated duck, but GR was not amused. He pulled out his gun and shot the driver. He would worry about the consequences of this later, as right now he needed to get himself and Amos to some sort of safety.

Ah, the bathroom! It was small, and he and Amos could steady themselves for the crash in there. He quickly woke Amos, and dragged him into the bathroom.

"Brace yourself, Amos! We're going to crash!"

"Nods!"

As they braced themselves, GR mused that he should have paid closer attention to that bus driver. He closed his eyes and waited for the impact.

It came, and GR's head was bashed against the side of the bathroom and he knew nothing but darkness for quite a long time. He did not have a pleasant awakening, as he woke up strapped to a gurney. On the plus side, he was alive. On the minus side, he was strapped to a gurney. Ah, and there were police officers, talking with Amos. He hoped they didn't notice he was...

Ah, one was walking towards him. He was quite screwed.

"Player One?" said the officer, pulling out a clipboard.

"No, my name is Game R. Mann. I'm on official business. It's classified SFB, so I can't tell you about it."

"Don't mess with me. I know you're Player One. You fit the description, we ran your prints through the computer, and your modus operandi matches what we have on file. We see that you've killed again."

"He died in the crash?"

"He died from a bullet through his head, matching the bullets we found in the gun we took off you."

"He was a zombie! So was the other guy! It's my job to kill zombies! It's his job, too!" said Player One, alias GR, motioning with his chin towards Amos, "His real name is Donovan MacCaulkovich, but we call him Shrugs! It's because only speaks in what he thinks is onomatopoeia!"

"Shakes! Shakes!" shouted Shrugs, alias Amos.

The officer stared at him and said, "So what you're telling me is that you two go around killing people."

"No, we kill zombies and vampires and that which should remain dead!" replied Player One.

"Even if you weren't Player One, I think we'd still have to bring you in for being a psychopath. Your friend is coming, too, though right now we've got nothing on him."

"Don't I get a phone call?"

"Yeah, once we get to the station. You get one."

As they wheeled Player One's gurney into the back of the ambulance, he wondered two things. How were they going to clean up the immense destruction caused by the bus knocking the train off the track, and who should he call?

He could call him, and see if anyone was there to help. He could also call TYRIS, as they, in a roundabout way, had caused all this. There was also one other person he could call, but it was a last resort, and he really didn't want to call them. He had plenty of time to think about it, though.

Who should GR... er, Player One call?
-Home
-TYRIS
-The last resort

027: Talking to E

2008-07-20T03:54:00.001-04:00

Yes: 7 votes
No: 2 votes

GR was very bored. He turned to Amos and said, "I'm going to talk to that woman, I am."

"Shrugs," replied Amos, who reclined in his seat and went to sleep.

GR made his way up the bus to the woman, and sat down next to her.

"How about this trip, eh?" he said, "This has got to be the longest bus ride I've ever been on, and I didn't bring anything to do. I'm bored as all get out."

The woman turned to him, "We just left."

"I know, but really, I'm so bored. So, what's your name?"

The woman paused and turned to the window. She sighed and said, "E. You may call me E. I know who you are, young man. I know full well who you are."

GR froze. "What do you mean?"

"I know who you are. I know what you do. I know what you've done. I know why you're on this bus. I know everything about you and your friend."

GR's mind had begun to race. He was beginning to regret talking to E. He would try to bluff his way out of this: "What do you mean? We're just two guys, on our way to South Carolina for a business trip. On business. We're going there on business."

E turned to him and smiled, "Don't worry. I'm here to help you."

GR arched his eyebrow and asked, "Are you one of us, then? A member of the Paci Custodis?"

She shook her head, "I'm something different."

"Civilians and super-heroes aren't really allowed to get caught up in this."

"I'm above those as well."

"What are you, then?"

"I have no reason to tell you that."

"You have no reason not to tell me that."

E laughed. "You'll find out in time. I know this for a fact, because whichever path you take, my true self will be revealed to you. As much as I don't like it, I need you and your friend right now."

GR thought about this for a moment. "Us in particular or just two guys who shoot things?"

"Any number of guys who shoot things," said E with a smile, "I can make do with you and him, though."

GR nodded and began to look out the window. After a few minutes he sighed, and looked at E again. "Why are you wearing a hood?"

"Would you like to see?"

"Hey, I don't want any funny business. I've got me a lady, somewhere out there."

"It's nothing like that."

"Okay then. Let's see."

E pulled back her hood, revealing her hair.

At first, GR was confused as to why this was a big deal. Then he noticed that the hair kept changing its color. E pulled the hood back over it.

"You're not a supernatural, are you?" said GR.

"Nothing like that. If I were you, I would keep a close eye on the driver. I think there's something off about him."

GR nodded and went back to his seat. Amos was still asleep, which allowed GR to put his mind to the question at hand. Should he ignore E's warning and the bus driver as well? Perhaps he should try to be subtle about it, and watch the driver from here. Then again, perhaps he should make sure the bus driver knows that he's being watched. He was sure he had plenty of time to think about this.

What should GR do?

-Ignore the bus driver
-Watch the bus driver from afar
-Watch the bus driver more closely

026: Beginning of the Bus Trek

2008-07-16T03:04:00.001-04:00

When should Amos use the bathroom?
Now: 5 votes
On the bus: 3 votes

Amos stood up and bounced from foot to foot, pointing towards the bathroom.

GR sighed, and said, "Yeah, go ahead and use it now. The bus isn't even here yet."

"Nods!" said Amos, dashing off towards the bathroom.

GR rifled through his bag. He brought several t-shirts and a lot of guns. Not normal guns, however: these were old video game accessories which had been repurposed to shoot actual bullets. Basically, he had taken the plastic casings off the accessories and managed to shove actual gun parts into them. Amazingly, they worked, and gave him the element of surprise. Barring pixilated ducks, no one really expected one of these to do any real damage. Many still had the cords attached to them, which GR would use to garrote people. Well, not people. Zombies and whatnot. It was difficult to garrote things which didn't breathe, but he managed. After all, fighting the supernatural was basically his job. It came with a few perks, but also brought with it a sort of low-level psychosis. In times of extreme stress, GR...

Well, we'll just see what happens to GR when the time comes.

Amos, meanwhile, was having trouble with the bathroom. He also suffered from psychoses brought about by his job, a sort of reality warping work-related stress. As mentioned, it made him speak only in what he thought was onomatopoeia but was actually a mixture of onomatopoeia and saying the names of basic actions. He also found himself unable to use anything invented after the Civil War, which meant he could not drive a car. He could ride in one, yes, but he had to shut his eyes and hum tunelessly while doing so. He was dreading the bus ride to South Carolina. The bus station's bathroom was actually quite clean and nice, but Amos's affliction ignored this, and focused on the fact that it was rich with plumbing. Yet, he had to use the bathroom and they were in the middle of a city. The bus might have been easier, with its bathroom being basically a mobile outhouse. Amos sighed, and began to focus his willpower to overcome his affliction, at least for a little while. After several minutes, he was able to focus on the unbelievable cleanliness of the bathroom, which came as quite a relief.

At this point, GR was going through Amos's things. He had no real reason to do so, other than that he was bored and forgot to bring any sort of portable gaming device. There were several Civil War-era uniforms there, all for the Confederate side. GR knew that this was not because Amos was a die-hard Confederate, if such things even still existed, but rather because he used to enjoy participating in Civil War re-enactments. When Amos's afflictions first began, he was wearing the Confederate uniform, so it was only by purest chance that Amos didn't dress as a Union soldier. Amos had also packed several Civil War-era weapons, all of which were in perfect working order. He took care of his things, did Amos.

"Cough." said a voice from behind GR, who was fooling around with one of Amos's crossbows.

"That's onomatopoeia," said GR, turning around, "Good job, Amos."

"Cough cough," said Amos, pointing from the crossbow to a concerned-looking police officer.

The blood drained from GR's face. He was, after all, a fugitive and he was about to travel south, and both he and his companion were heavily armed. He tried to smile at the officer, who just stared.

"The 5:15 to South Carolina is leaving in ten minutes," said a pleasant female voice over the loud-speaker, "Please make your way there."

Something about the voice struck GR as wrong. Not unpleasant, mind you, but wrong. He and his compatriots had taken the bus several times, and it was always a gruff masculine voice. Not only that, but this new voice really had no idea how to do its job. GR noticed that he was still holding the crossbow, and that the police officer was walking slowly towards them. GR put the crossbow back into Amos's bag, and then handed it to Amos. He picked up his own bag, saluted the police officer, and he and Amos walked quickly towards the bus. The police officer was about to say something when the loud-speaker came on again.

"Would all available security please report to the central bus terminal? Thank you. Repeat, all available security is to report to the central bus terminal."

The officer looked at GR, shook his head, and hurried towards where he assumed the central bus terminal was. GR and Amos looked at each other, shrugged, and walked onto the bus. They sat near the back, but soon found that the bus had only one other passenger. GR could tell it was a woman, but she was wearing an odd hooded cloak. He assumed that he and Amos weren't the only ones to receive the call from TYRIS. He stared, unashamed, at the back of the woman's head while Amos began whittling again. Soon, a shifty-looking man in a bus driver's uniform entered the bus and sat down in the driver's seat.

"Attention all passengers. Thank you for choosing the bus instead of a car, or a plane, or even the freaking train. Oh god, I hate the train. It's on a track. A track. What sort of sense does that make? Then you have to plan all your travel things around where the tracks go and it's all just too much trouble. Freaking trains. I swear, if I see a train coming, I am going to build up speed and ram that mother-" there was a high-pitch screech "-train right off the damn track. In any case, our trip is going to take a while, about three or four days which includes stops. All three of you have room to make yourselves comfortable. Enjoy the ride."

GR was still staring at the back of the woman's head. He wondered if he should talk to her or not, and continued staring as the bus lurched forward and began the long trek to South Carolina.

Should GR talk to the woman?
-Yes
-No

025: Undercover Amish Agents

2008-07-13T00:39:00.004-04:00

Who should they call?

CHOICE A: Known Paci Custodis: 7 votes
CHOICE B: Young Paci Custodis with everything to prove: 1 vote
CHOICE C: Some crazy guy: 1 vote

In a large metropolitan city which will go nameless, two men sat on a couch watching television. One was thin and pale, and wore a black trench-coat and predominately black clothes, including a glove on his right hand and a pair of absurd goggles. He was young. A man in a confederate soldier's uniform sat next to him, with a day's growth of beard. This man was a bit older.

"You know, I've been thinking about 'Wife Swap'," said the young man.

The man next to him shrugged, and said, "Shrugs."

"Do the husbands who get their wives swapped get to have sex with the wife they swapped for?"

"Shrugs."

"I mean, the wives do just about everything else, right? It's not too far fetched an idea, eh?"

"Shrugs."

"Yeah, you're right. I wouldn't want to sleep with half these women, either."

They sat in silence for a few moments. The phone rang, and the young man stared at it. He looked at his companion.

"I think I should just let the machine get it. Probably not for either of us, anyway."

"Nods."

The machine picked up the call. The outgoing message was mainly unintelligible, but that was all right, because you only called if you knew who you were calling and they wanted you to be able to call them. The incoming message began: "Hello, this is Robin Banks. I work for TYRIS, and a cult of vampires gathered up around this fellow named the False Prophet has taken out two of our agents. One was there for a meeting with his spokeswoman vampire person. The other was actually there to avenge the death of the first agent and for personal reasons. In any case, I think this upsets the agreement you people have with the vampires. Don't bother calling me back or anything, as it's not an emergency or anything. Just thought you'd like to know."

The phone clicked off. The young man and his companion looked at each other.

"Think the others will want to look into that?"

"Shakes."

"I'll go look up stuff on the False Prophet. You stay here and... watch television. I thought you couldn't do that?"

The other man looked at the young man, and pointed to his eyes. They were closed.

"Eh... all right."

The young man left the other man to his own devices, which included whittling a block of wood. By the time the young man had come back, the block of wood had been whittled into a slightly smaller, less blocky piece of wood.

"Well, the False Prophet is pretty bad news, but he's supposedly a bit southeast of here."

"Shrugs."

"Where are the others?"

"Shrugs."

"Furthermore, why didn't they take us with them? Not like we're any good sitting at home watching television."

"Nods."

"Yeah. If one of them were here, we could just go with them and take out this Prophet guy, take a nice little break in South Carolina when we're done. Oh, or we could go to Georgia and see Williams Street."

"Shrugs."

"Is Georgia even close to South Carolina?"

"Shrugs."

"You should know, Mister Confederate Soldier Man. Whatever."

"Points. Shrugs."

"You know I can't drive because I don't have my license, and I'm technically a fugitive. Why can't you drive? Oh wait, I know. It's because you won't use anything that was invented after the Civil War, you Amish piece of trash."

"Shake fist!"

"You know that's not onomatopoeia, right? That's just saying actions."

"Nods," said the man, and then, very deliberately, "Shrugs."

"Well, maybe you should care about the difference!"

The young man crossed his arms in a huff, and the other man continued whittling with a smirk on his face. Half an hour later, the young man spoke.

"We could get in contact with that one guy. The one who works for-"

"Nods!"

"Yeah! He could probably get us a driver and everything!"

"Nods!"

The young man picked up the phone, and quickly dialed a number, and a put-upon voice answered, "Hello, Bra-"

"Hey! It's me! The one who lives with-"

There was a deep sigh, and then, "Yes, I know who you are. What do you want?"

"I want to go to South Carolina, but I can't drive or anything. You can help though, right?"

"Why should we help you get to South Carolina?"

"Adventure! Basic goodness! All sorts of reasons! Oh, and my roommate can probably hook you up with a better job."

"Really? You think he'd do that?"

"Maybe! It couldn't hurt to help us out!"

"Okay, I'll send a car. Just talk to him, okay?"

"Will do!" said the young man, slamming the phone down, and flashing his friend a victory sign.

The pair ran off to pack, and then sat around for an hour waiting for the car to arrive. It was a Pinto, and as it honked its horn, a hubcap fell off. A weary-looking man was in the driver's seat.

"Sorry I'm late, fellas. My boss wouldn't let me just send a car, and told me to go myself. Then he made wait until my lunch break. So I can just about get you guys to the bus station, and give you some bus fare. How does that sound?"

The young man was torn. While he could have walked to the bus station himself, he didn't like being outside for too long or paying for his own bus fare. So, all in all, it was a good deal, and his companion agreed. They threw theirs bags in the trunk of the car, and hopped into it.

"We should have codenames," said the young man.

"Nods."

"I'll be... Game R. Mann and you can be my uncle Amos. You can be an undercover Amish secret agent or something, but we won't tell people that part, because it's a secret. I can be your plucky young partner who is not Amish, and so we clash and generally have a good time. It'll be great."

"You're insane," said their driver, "That name is stupid."

"Amos is a good name!"

"No, your name."

"I'll go by GR."

"That's only moderately better. Why are you coming up with all this nonsense anyway?"

"I like fun."

"Whatever. Here we are, and here's your bus fare. Hope you have a safe trip, kind of."

The newly-christened GR and Amos stepped out of the Pinto and took their bags. GR bought two tickets to South Carolina, and then the pair waited. Amos tugged on GR's sleeve.

"What?"

Amos looked at him with a panicked expression.

"You should go to the bathroom now. Then again, the one on the bus might be cleaner. I don't know, Amos! And we've only moments to decide!"

When should Amos use the bathroom?

Now
On the bus

024: A Ghoulish Fate

2008-07-09T01:35:00.001-04:00

Leave her alone: 0 votes
Contact TYRIS: 3 votes
Go in alone: 4 votes

Charleston opened the car door, and said, "I've decided. I'm going in alone."

"You sure about this, Charleston?" said Land Captain.

"Dead sure," replied Charleston, reaching into his jacket. He pulled out a long brown envelope and handed it to the Land Captain. "If I'm not back within the week, give this to Robin. Now get out of here, otherwise they might come out here and get you." He shut the door.

Land Captain saluted him, and drove off. Charleston took a deep breath, put on a pair of silver gloves, and marched up the sidewalk and into the house's basement, to the stone doors. He reached out to touch it, and it swung open to reveal a dark hallway.

"I was sort of hoping for some sort of portal, honestly," said Charleston, reaching into his coat and pulling out a flashlight. It hit the darkness but did not illuminate it. He turned it off and put it away as a young woman in a flowing white robe came through the doorway. She had fangs.

"You're expected, Charleston Charge," she said, holding out her hand.

Charleston took it, and was whisked through the door. After many twists and turns, they stopped in a circle of light. It seemed to come from nowhere.

"The Mouth of the Prophet wishes to speak with you," said the young woman, sinking into the darkness.

A blond woman, dressed in a sensible skirt and jacket, stepped into the light.

Charleston smirked, and nodded, "Lauren."

"Charleston. I see you didn't get my message."

"I got your message. I just ignored it. I've come to rescue you from the False Prophet."

"I don't need or want rescuing. I'm far happier here than I ever was with you."

"You're just being hypnotized or something. Oh, and you killed a man in cold blood. If you aren't being hypnotized, then things might go poorly for you. That's against all sorts of laws."

"I know all about the laws, and the agreement. Don't lecture me."

"Oh, but do you? The agreement clearly stated that, should a civilian arrange a meeting with a vampire, then that civilian was not to be harmed in any way otherwise the vampire would be subject to eternal imprisonment or death. Rocky was a civilian. He was not a super-hero or a member of the Paci Custodis. He was just a man who came here to sell you insurance, and you tore off his limbs."

"I did it to send you a message, but you didn't care. You still think we have a chance to work things out, don't you?"

"You're probably under the False Prophet's vampire glamour or something. I refuse to believe you'd become so degenerate and immoral that slaughtering an innocent man to send me a message sounds like a good idea."

"Perhaps I've always been this way, deep down."

"You have not. You used to cry when we saw road kill, for god's sake."

The pair stood in silence for a moment, staring into each other's eyes.

"What went wrong?" said Charleston.

"You were never there," said Lauren.

"I can be there now."

Lauren narrowed her eyes at him. She snapped her fingers, and two young women in flowing white robes emerged from the darkness and grabbed Charleston's arms.

"What are you doing?" he said, putting up some token resistance.

"You want to be with me, Charleston Charge. So be it," said Lauren, pulling out a letter opener, "Open his mouth."

Another girl came from the darkness and held Charleston's mouth open. Lauren took the letter opener and slit her wrist, and held the bleeding vein over Charleston's mouth.

"Now you can be mine forever, Charleston," she said as she forced him to drink her blood, "Just be glad I chose to let you live."

A week passed.

Land Captain arrived at the office of Robin Banks with the envelope Charleston had entrusted him with. He placed it on Robin's desk, and Robin opened it.

"He says that if we've opened the envelope, then we're either very impatient or he's been gone for more than a week," said Robin, "It goes on to say that we should just consider him lost."

"We can't do that, sir," said Land Captain, "Charleston is a good man. A bit misguided and impulsive, but a good man nonetheless."

"I agree," said Robin, "Unfortunately, due to the agreement, neither you nor TYRIS can do anything about Charleston's disappearance other than take a passive role in helping him out of this mess."

"What's the agreement?" said Land Captain.

"Around the bicentennial, super-humans and super-naturals were on the rise and everything was a giant mess. Werewolf hunters were taking on mad scientists, vampires were fighting super-heroes, and it was just a generally terrible time. So representatives from each community - super-naturals, supernatural hunters, superheroes, super-villains, and somewhat normal folk - got together to decide what to do. It was a pretty simple solution. Superheroes would only fight super-villians, supernatural hunters would only hunt super-naturals, and normal folk would just keep on going on with their lives and occasionally be swept up in some grand adventure."

"The Mouth of the Prophet killed a man, though. Isn't that breaking the agreement?"

"It sure is. So all we really have to do is get the word out about that, and so we have to decide how."

Land Captain nodded.

Robin coughed, and pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen, "They'll all accomplish the same end, really, it's just the means that will change. I, personally, know some supernatural hunters. They're called the Paci Custodis, you know. Supernatural hunters in general. I doubt we could get the whole little group I know down here to get things done, but we could probably get a few."

"Some tried-and-true hunters, then?"

"You could put it that way, yes. If we don't want to wait for them to come down from Detroit, I know there's probably tons of freelancers in the area who are just dying to get in on the whole scene. We could put an ad in their little newsletter or whatever."

"Youngsters with everything to prove."

"Sure. The final option is a roll of the dice. We put out the word that the False Prophet's lackeys broke the agreement, and hope for the best. The problem with this is that some of the Paci Custodis are insane. We may be getting more than we bargained for with them."

Land Captain was silent.

"No summary?"

"Crazy hunter who may end up killing us all?"

"Works. So, what do we do?"

Land Captain shrugged.

Who should they call?

CHOICE A: Known Paci Custodis
CHOICE B: Young Paci Custodis with everything to prove
CHOICE C: Some crazy guy

023: A Most Productive Meeting

2008-07-06T03:56:00.000-04:00

CHOICE A: Interview the agent after the meeting: 3 votes
CHOICE B: Use a mini-camcorder to record the meeting: 6 votes
CHOICE C: Ask Land Captain to use his car to listen in on the meeting: 0 votes

Charleston woke up on his couch, still fully dressed, with the television still on and a half-empty bottle of Yoo-hoo sitting on the table. Groggily, he picked up a legal pad and flipped through it. He had written down several plans, and the one with the most pros was using a mini-camcorder to record the agent's meeting with the Mouth of the Prophet. There were only two cons, one of which appeared to be underlined several times and circled, but some errant drops of Yoo-Hoo had made them illegible. He shrugged, and looked at the clock. It was half past six. He was wondering if he had enough time to change clothes and sleep in his bed for a bit when his phone rang.

"Land Captain here. The meeting is set up for an hour after sunset."

"Huh. Big surprise," said Charleston, now looking forward to sleeping in an actual bed, "Any word on the agent?"

"New fellow named Rocky Rode. There's a bit of a situation, though. "

"What's wrong?"

"Weird stuff has been going on all day."

"Weird how?"

"Someone spent half an hour going down a hallway, for example. And the office supply closet gained a few dimensions. Robin thinks it might be back-lash from that thing Edolie smashed."

"That shouldn't happen," said Charleston, under his breath. It was something to worry about, yes, but the Mouth of the Prophet was more important at the moment. "Should be nothing. Tell Robin it should be nothing. On the way here, after you pick up Rocky, tell him I'm tagging along to make sure he's doing all right, and that we're going to record his meeting for quality purposes."

"Aye aye. See you around eight tonight." The phone clicked off, and Charleston, who had been changing into pajamas, brushed his teeth and slept in his bed for twelve solid hours. It was a deep, dreamless sleep.

He woke up, got ready for the meeting, and ate some delicious waffles. While he enjoyed his waffles, he was also getting a little sick of having them all the time. He made a note to go shopping later, so he would have something to eat other than waffles. He found his miniature camcorder and tripod, and waited. Land Captain and Rocky arrived precisely at eight. He got into the backseat with Rocky, and Land Captain began to drive.

"Hello, Rocky. New to TYRIS?" said Charleston with a smile.

"Yes, sir. They've told me stories about you, sir." said Rocky, shivering. Charleston noticed that he was wearing an action suit, like Edolie. He did not look nearly as good.

"What have they told you?"

"They say you're a brilliant agent, but you have bad luck with keeping your friends. Is it true that the five partners you've had died?"

"No."

"Okay, that's good, because-"

"Only two of them are dead, for sure."

"What happened?"

Charleston sighed, having told this story a thousand times before, "The first one was killed by panther-men created by a mad scientist. They got loose and liked his cologne so much that they mauled him to death. The second one is technically sort of undead now, as he was bitten by a zombie. I would have put a bullet through his brain, to keep him from coming back, but I lost my gun a while ago. The third partner was abducted by aliens, so he might not be dead. The fourth partner was absorbed in the Kly'tx collective, so he's technically still alive. He just lost his humanity. The fifth partner is just missing after she blew up this machine that was warping reality."

"Wow. I'd hate to be your partner. No offense, sir."

"I doubt you'll have to worry about it. Did Land Captain tell you what was going on?"

"Yes. He said my interview was going to be recorded. Except, aren't you on vacation?"

"A clever subterfuge. Good job noticing."

"We're here," said Land Captain.

"Good luck, Rocky," said Charleston, handing him the camcorder.

Rocky took it, and saluted him. Charleston moved to the front seat and began drumming on the dashboard. He looked at the clock.

"Rocky hasn't even entered the building yet," said Land Captain.

"Oh," said Charleston, looking out his window, "This isn't the comedy club."

Instead, it was a fairly small, but nice, house in the suburbs. Little bushes lined the walkway to the door, each concealing a tiny lamp to illuminate the sidewalk. Rocky entered the house when the door opened mysteriously, closing again after he entered.

Charleston drummed on the dashboard some more. After a few minutes, he asked, "Can Ishmael tap into the camcorder?"

"He sure can."

"So he could let us know when it was done and we could go get food or something."

"I guess so. Shouldn't we wait here in case Rocky needs help?"

"Ishmael can go four-hundred miles an hour or something. We can go through a drive-through and be back here before anyone knows we're missing."

"All right, then. Where to?"

"I think I saw a Wendy's up the street."

"Done."

To the untrained eye, Ishmael would have seemed to simply vanish. While it was gone, the door opened again, and a blonde woman placed the tripod at the end of the walkway. After she re-entered the house, Ishmael reappeared and Charleston burst out of the car.

"DAMN DAMN DAMN DAMN DAMN!" he shouted, grabbing the camcorder and throwing it into the car. He ran to the door of the house, and kicked it down. He went through three rooms, and found what he was looking for: Rocky had been dismembered and hanged with his own intestines. There was a message on the wall: it said Leave Me Alone. Charleston stared at the scene.

"Basement. This house probably has a basement," he said, resisting the urge to vomit as he stormed through the house, looking for a basement. He found the stairs which led to the basement, and hurried down. It was a very nice basement, as far as basements go, and it had mysterious stone doors set into its northern wall. He stared at them for a little while, and went back to the car. He sat down heavily, and tried to avoid looking at Land Captain.

"Play the tape, please."

The tape started.

Rocky appeared on the screen, with an empty chair behind him. "This is agent Rocky Rode, of TYRIS. I am about to have a meeting with... what was your name, miss?"

A voice from off-screen said, "The Mouth of the Prophet."

Rocky sat down, with the back of his head to the camera, "The meeting is about the possibility of providing insurance and security to the many holdings of..."

The Mouth of the Prophet was still off-screen, "The one I speak for. We both know that's not what this is really about. We know it's actually about a sad man who can't let go of his past and thinks he can make things how they were again with his fists and a minimum of thought."

Rocky's voice began to crack, "Actually, it's about insurance and stuff."

"Oh, no. I know why you're here. Does he think I don't know how he smells? Besides, I saw him in the car you drove up in. He needs to be sent a message."

Rocky rose from his chair while he screamed, and his arm separated from his body. The blood covered a hand, which smeared itself on nothingness, shaping a mouth. It came towards the camera.

"I've made my choice, Charleston. Leave me alone, or I swear to you that what I'll do to you will make what I do to him seem like a fun time."

The mouth moved away from the camera, and the blood-covered hand moved towards Rocky's other arm.

"Stop the tape," said Charleston, "I never want to see that again."

"What will you do now?" asked Land Captain.

"A man just died because of me. My mother and father died protecting me, all my partners are gone because I never thought things through, and my girlfriend is a crazed vampire," said Charleston, "What if I'm some sort of jinx? Everyone who's ever been around me for too long dies, or just disappears."

"Just bad luck," said Land Captain, "Was that her, though? Your girlfriend?"

"I think so. I can't believe I forgot that vampires don't show up on film. It sounded like her, though."

"Well, what are you going to do? As you said, she just killed a man. A TYRIS agent. You only got mauled by fish a bit, and everyone at TYRIS was pretty upset. What happens when someone dies on duty?"

"We contact someone on the outside, whose job it is to deal with stuff like this. TYRIS isn't about revenge. It's about the compensation and prevention of loss."

"So are you going to contact TYRIS?"

"I don't know. Maybe I should leave her alone. Except a man died because of me, and because of her. If I contact TYRIS, though, then the circle of violence just keeps going. They'll contact someone, or a group of someones, who'll probably die going up against her and that Prophet guy. If I go in alone, then no one else gets hurt but me, and perhaps that's for the best. Maybe I'm a key cog in this whole thing, and if I get taken out, the rest of the circle of violence stops going. I don't know, Land Captain. I just don't know."

What should Charleston do?

-Leave her alone
-Contact TYRIS
-Go in alone

022: Making Calls

2008-07-02T00:42:00.000-04:00

CHOICE A: Find some way to set up contact with the agent being put in charge of the case: 0 votes
CHOICE B: Set it up so that Land Captain becomes involved, and go from there: 4 votes
CHOICE C: Wait to see if the place buys insurance, and then just find out the address of the Mouth of the Prophet from there: 0 votes

As Charleston walked to his front door, he realized that the optimum to most situations was bringing in Land Captain. There was just something about the man, a sort of Midas touch that turned problems into gold. There was still the problem of getting the Dispatcher to accept the assignment for dispatching, and the further problem of getting Land Captain involved. Charleston had an idea, though. He picked up his phone, and dialed the Dispatcher.

The phone rang, and someone picked up. After a brief coughing fit, they said, "Dispatcher."

"It's Charleston Charge."

"Hm, yes. Heard about the frog assignment. Sorry about your partner. Aren't you on vacation?"

"Indeed I am. It's just that I was at this comedy club earlier tonight, and some guy attacked the comedian. Oh, and I think there's a bunch of vampires involved."

"We are not the Paci Custodis, Charleston."

"I know, I know. I'm not saying we should go in there and start beating the crap out of anything with fangs. After all, they're just sitting around their bizarre comedy club being weird. If some psycho is coming in and making trouble, then perhaps they should benefit from insurance or security. That's what TYRIS sells, after all."

"So you are saying that we should send someone to give them an unsolicited estimate?"

"Maybe call them up and offer the services, and wait to see what happens."

"It just so happens that, shortly before you called, we did receive a call from a comedy club about a man matching your description coming in and thrashing their comedian. They do want insurance and security, and it would seem we've you to thank for this."

Charleston was silent for a moment, "Oh. There are aliens, too. Better send Land Captain to drive."

"Really, Charleston. I've known you since before you started working for TYRIS, I know when you have an ulterior motive. This is about Lauren, isn't it?"

"Yes," whispered Charleston, sadly.

The Dispatcher sighed, and said, "You can't use TYRIS for your personal problems, Charleston. It reflects badly on the company."

"I know, I know."

"As such, I shall be forced to forget we ever had this conversation. The agent is being sent in the morning, and I suggest you speak to Land Captain tonight. As I understand it, he usually goes to bed and wakes up rather early when he's not on a case. Since it's you, however, he may be more than willing to take your call. Good night, Charleston." The phone clicked off, and Charleston called Land Captain.

He answered on the first ring, with "Ahoy, Charleston. How's the vacation?"

"Going fairly well. Hey, you're driving an agent to some comedy club tomorrow, right?"

"Aye aye."

"Is Liana coming with you?"

"No. She's back at her lab, rebuilding it. I guess she's going to try to create fish which are more resistant to mercury poisoning or something."

Charleston sighed with relief. He knew she was reformed, more or less, but that didn't change the fact that Liana had attacked him with fish.

"Can I ride along?"

"I don't see why not. Is this about that girl of yours?"

"Yeah. Is it that obvious?"

"Does a compass point north?"

"I need to talk with the agent before hand, try to get something planned. I have some idea of where she might be, and this meeting tomorrow might help with that."

"Fine with me, buddy. I'll leave it to you to work out the particulars. I need to get some sleep. See you in the morning."

"Good night. And thank you."

"I'm saluting right now," said Land Captain, "Good night."

Charleston hung up the phone. All he had to do now was figure out what to do for tomorrow. He could either just wait and ask the agent about the Mouth of the Prophet after the meeting. Alternatively, he could give the agent a miniature camcorder to record the meeting. They could claim it was for quality reasons, or something. Heck, he could probably even ask Land Captain to use his car to watch the meeting, though he doubted the superhero would go for that. He would figure it out, and then sleep for a bit. He could probably use the rest.

WHICH SHOULD CHARLESTON CHOOSE?
CHOICE A: Interview the agent after the meeting
CHOICE B: Use a mini-camcorder to record the meeting
CHOICE C: Ask Land Captain to use his car to listen in on the meeting

021: Warren and Lauren Peace

2008-06-29T00:59:00.001-04:00

Fight: 1 vote
Run: 4 votes
Bluff: 3 votes

Charleston realized that the thing he wanted most in the world right now was to be away from these people, and away from this place. He needed to run. If he wanted to run without them following him, though, he needed a distraction. He looked down at the prone form of Tim Aneric, and came up with one.

"Hey! Before I knocked him out, Aneric said he was going to buy drinks for everyone!" said Charleston, side-stepping towards the door, "But you have to stay in here to get them! No following or attacking me!"

Many of the patrons shrugged, and went back to what the were doing before Charleston had knocked out Aneric. A few shrugged and went to the bar. An old man was left where the crowd had been. Charleston looked at him, bewildered. The old man noticed, and smiled at him.

"I likes me my disco," he said, "You had probably better get going, though, before that tubby bastard wakes up."

Charleston nodded, and walked out the door. In deference to the fact that he wanted to get away, he walked quickly. As he exited, the bouncer stopped him.

"Well, what do you think of our Tim Aneric?" he said, smiling like a shark.

Charleston looked the man up and down, and decided to be frank with him because he was leaving anyway. "To be honest, I thought he was the worst comedian I've ever seen."

The man smiled some more, and said, "Got a good eye on you!"

Charleston nodded, and walked away from the club. The only thing he knew now that he hadn't known before was that a woman called the Mouth of the Prophet hired comedians for the club. Ah, and that the club was the most bizarre place he had ever been to. He hated it, and hoped he would never have to go back there. After all, he wasn't after the club, but was after his girlfriend. However, he suspected that the Mouth of the Prophet and his girlfriend were one and the same. He really wished he had someone to walk and talk with at this point.

"Tell me about her," said a voice from behind him, "But don't turn around."

Charleston wished that people would stop coming up behind him and talking to him. "About who?"

"The one you're looking for."

"I recognize your voice, you know."

There was silence.

"Was that you at the club?" said Charleston.

"I thought I was doing a decent job of disguising my voice."

"You just have a bandana in front of your mouth, don't you?"

"They said it would work!"

"It only really works on people you don't know."

Silence again.

"I'm guessing you have your reasons for this, so I'll let you have your fun. You want me to tell you about her, then?"

"Thank you. And yes."

"Her name was Lauren Peace. She was the sister of my third partner, Warren Peace."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Never mind. Tell me about Lauren."

"Not much to tell, really. We dated for a bit, I thought things were going well, and then wham. She gets bitten by a vampire and absorbed into his little cult. Then she disappeared."

"What do you mean you thought things were going well?"

"I mean they were. Everything was fine. I'm sure if I can just find her and free her from the vampire's curse, then she and I can go live happily ever after."

"Of course."

There was a rush of wind. Charleston turned, and saw that no one was there. Now he had to plan his next move. If the Mouth of the Prophet was seeking out comedians, than Charleston either had to make friends with some comedians, or become one himself.

Hold on one second, thought Charleston. He worked at an insurance and security company, and a man had just been assaulted at the club that very night. A club which had many supernatural patrons, at that. It was the very sort of place TYRIS had been founded to sell insurance and security services to. The only thing was, he couldn't go in there and sell anything as he was not only on vacation, but he had also been the one who had assaulted someone at the club. He was sure doing something like that was both unethical and illegal.

However, he could get someone else to sell insurance or security to the club. Doing this was probably also unethical and illegal, but far less risky. He could send a message to TYRIS tomorrow, in order to get an agent in there. The agent would hopefully talk with the Mouth of the Prophet, and Charleston would be able to find out if the Mouth was Lauren. Of course, he would have to find out some way to rendezvous with the agent, but that shouldn't be too hard. He just had to choose the proper way to phrase the message.

He could either write down in the message that it was a special sort of mission, which it was, and that Charleston was to be contacted before and after the initial meeting. Or, he could insinuate the esteemed talents of the Land Captain were needed, so that Land Captain would be driving the agent to and from the mission. Then he could set things up with Land Captain from there. He could also just wait and see if the club bought any insurance or security, and look at the completed application. All three options were doable, and gave Charleston something to think about as he walked home.

WHAT SHOULD CHARLESTON DO?
CHOICE A: Find some way to set up contact with the agent being put in charge of the case.
CHOICE B: Set it up so that Land Captain becomes involved, and go from there.
CHOICE C: Wait to see if the place buys insurance, and then just find out the address of the Mouth of the Prophet from there.

020: Indecent Proposal

2008-06-25T00:21:00.001-04:00

Dumb: 3 votes
Cool: 5 votes
Angry: 1 vote

Charleston sipped his Yoohoo, and wondered how he should handle things. He really wanted to just punch Aneric right in the face and demand some sort of information from him, or at least punch him some more. Perhaps kick him a few times, in his soft bits. Then again, he was in some sort of bizarre comedy club that was some sort of night club as well, with a bar that looked like it had been taken from the ship. Any sort of hostility might somehow upset the delicate balance, and the patrons may descend upon him like so many freak-fish. Charleston did not feel like getting the living daylights beaten out of him tonight, at least not so early in the night. There was also no way in hell he would play it dumb, especially not with Tim Aneric. Cool it was, then.

"What sort of drink does Aneric like?" said Charleston to the bartender.

"Aneric mainly likes his booze, my good man," said the bartender, wiping a glass, "Mainly likes his mix drinks. The ones with the funny names."

Charleston thought about this for a moment, and asked, "Actually funny names, or funny according to him?"

"He comes here with the straightest face you ever saw and orders Fuzzy Navels and Sexes on the Beach. Everyone else giggles, because who seriously orders those without a smile, but Aneric? He just drinks them like a man."

"Well, when you see him walking over, mix him up something. I'll pay."

"You'll pay for what?" said a voice from Charleston's shoulder. He turned, resisted the urge to punch, and looked up at Tim Aneric.

"Anything you like, Mister Aneric. I got your message."

Aneric sat down, ordered a Vulcan Mind Meld without cracking a smile, and said, "I gathered, because you didn't leave."

"So, why did you want to meet me?"

"I find you terribly attractive. You have that whole detective chic thing going on, and I just find that so damned hot. I'm willing to offer you five million dollars for one night."

Charleston had stopped with his drink halfway to his mouth, and was staring straight ahead at the mirror behind the bar. The trained part of his mind registered that he, the bartender, and Aneric all showed up, as did a good number of the patrons. A few didn't, but was acceptable, and encouraging. Perhaps the vampires still had their hands in this place, after all. Then he coughed, and said, "One night what?"

"What do you think?" said Aneric, trying to put his hand on Charleston's thigh.

Charleston turned, "Sorry, I can't do that."

"Two million for six hours?"

"No. I'm not a prostitute."

"One million for two?"

"No."

"Ah, you're a detective. How about fifteen minutes of making out for information?"

Charleston paused, and looked over at the bartender, who shrugged. He had no idea why he was looking at the bartender, but perhaps he could still make this work in such a way that he could get the information without actually having to touch Aneric.

"I get the information first," said Charleston.

"It's a deal, sailor. Your place or mine?"

There was no way Charleston wanted Aneric to know where he lived, nor did he want to go to Aneric's residence.

Aneric stood up and slapped Charleston on the back, and said, "Just joshing you. Wanted to see how far you'd go to get to the bottom of things. Now, what do you want to know?"

Charleston took a deep breath, counted to ten, and downed the rest of his Yoo-hoo. "Who runs this place?"

"No idea. I got hired by some blonde woman, she said she was the Mouth of the Prophet. Whatever that means."

"Means a lot, actually. Where did you meet her?"

"Contacted me by phone. She said she saw my act and thought it'd be perfect for this club. Weird club, though."

"I don't get out to many clubs, but yes, I did think it was pretty weird."

"They pay well, and the audience is usually appreciative, but really? No music? Just my jokes and the laughter of the audience? What's up with that?"

"I intend to get to the bottom of it."

Aneric stood up, and pointed his dart gun at Charleston.

"I won't let you ruin this for me."

Charleston kicked him in the shin, and hit him over the head with a stool. He turned, and saw the club patrons staring at him, mouths agape. Some of those mouths had fangs. The bartender had ducked behind his bar.

Charleston sighed. He could stand and fight, run, or make some sort of excuse. He had seconds to decide.

019: Tim Aneric

2008-06-22T00:20:00.004-04:00

CHOICE A: Pay the cover charge: 5 votes
CHOICE B: Bluff his way in through the front: 2 votes
CHOICE C: Bluff his way in through the back: 2 votes
CHOICE D: Sneak into the back: 2 votes

Charleston was standing in line, trying to decide what to do. He would much rather sneak in through the back somehow. It would just make things so much easier for him, and he would feel much better about it. Unfortunately, he passed the alley before he was able to think of a plan of attack. Oh well. He would just turn his attentions to figuring out a way to get through the front. He really didn't want to pay the cover charge, after all. Perhaps he could say he was a critic or something. All in all, he really should have thought about it before he got into line. At this point, it would be quite foolish to leave the inexplicably long line. Charleston really disliked this line, this whole stupid comedy club thing. Especially the ridiculous notion of a cover charge. Admission, he would understand. He would have still tried to get out of paying it, but would be more willing to pay it than some stupid cover charge.

Charleston looked up from his thoughts, and saw that he had come to the front of the line. A muscular bald man in leather looked down at him, and said, "You goin' in?"

"I'm a critic?" said Charleston.

"You got a press pass?"

"It's for a blog," said Charleston. He had no idea if people with blogs really had any sort of authority, but really hoped they did. After all, some tech kid at TYRIS kept going on about how much authority his blog had. That had to mean something, didn't it?

"One of you people, eh? Well, you gotta pay the cover charge like everyone else."

"How much is it?" said Charleston, with a sigh.

"Fifteen bucks."

"Is this Aneric guy any good?" he said, handing over twenty dollars.

"You're the critic. You tell me after you sit through his act."

Charleston stood there for a minute staring at what he supposed was the bouncer. A bouncer for a comedy club? This whole thing was bizarre.

"What you waiting for, Hudson Hawk? Get in there," said the bouncer.

"My change?"

"I'll consider it a tip."

Charleston sighed, and went inside. At this point, he didn't want to make a scene. He went through the club's lobby, which looked like the lobby of an exceptionally good hotel. It even had a concierge at the desk. Charleston went though a pair of double doors, and stopped for a moment, and then went back into the lobby. He pulled out his tape recorder, and began to speak.

"Warehouse that was previously headquarters of a vampire cult is now some sort of comedy club. The outside looks like a dance club, the lobby looks like a hotel, and the actual club part..."

Charleston peeked through the double doors again, shook his head, and said, "I think I died when that instability cabin blew up, because none of this makes a bit of sense."

He went through the double doors. There was a bar in the corner, with a black man in a red vest selling drinks, looking like something from the "Love Boat". There was a chubby man on the stage, probably trying to be funny. There were people dancing in cages, and other people convulsing around them. Seizure-inducing lights were being projected everywhere, and over the loudspeaker, he could hear the comedian and the laughter of the audience. Directly in front of the stage, there were five rows of seats, with ten seats in each row. Charleston walked warily through the club, trying to avoid touching anyone, and sat down.

The comedian pulled out a live chicken, and said, "All right, all right, how about this one?" Then he snapped the chicken's neck and tore it in half. The audience laughed, while Charleston just looked at Tim Aneric with a mixture of confusion and horror.

Aneric wiped the blood off his glasses, and threw the chicken on the floor. He looked at the audience, and said, "Okay, okay, watch this." He stood on one foot, and hopped to the other one. "That was a Wyoming flip, everyone. A Wyoming flip." Once again, laugher. Real laughter, not polite laughter. Charleston was becoming increasingly confused. People were dancing to this man and the laughter he somehow induced?

"Okay, okay, watch this. I need someone from the audience. You there, Dick Tracy, come up here!" said Aneric. Charleston waited to see what happened. "Hey, Dick, come up here!"

Charleston chuckled, thinking it was an actual joke.

Aneric became angrier, "You there, in the back row. The guy in the stupid hat and long coat. Get up here!"

Charleston looked around. He was the only one in the back row, but he thought his hat was nifty. In any case, he stood up, and pointed to himself.

"Yes, you! Get your ass up here!"

Charleston made his way to the stage, and he noticed that everyone in the club was staring at him, with smiles. He stood next to Aneric.

"Look at the audience, you son of a whore," said Aneric, "Okay, okay, watch this." Aneric pulled out a gun, and pointed it at Charleston. He pulled the trigger, and a dart shot into Charleston's neck. The audience laughed uproariously, and Aneric patted Charleston hard on the back. He fell onto the stage.

"Good sport, good sport. Someone get this man a drink!" said Aneric, pushing Charleston off the stage.

Someone helped Charleston up, but he was too dazed to see who it was. They helped him to the bar, while everyone clapped, and sat him down on a stool.

"What'll it be?" said the bartender, washing a glass.

"Do you have... Yoo-hoo?" said Charleston, "I like Yoo-hoo. I like waffles, too, but you probably don't have any of those."

The bartender nodded, and poured him a glass of Yoo-hoo. Charleston tried to drink it, but most of it poured onto his shirt. Someone came by with a slip of paper. The bartender read it, poured Charleston another glass of Yoo-hoo, and handed the note to Charleston.

It read, "I'll meet you after the act. TE."

Charleston looked from the note to the stage several times, and drank his Yoo-hoo, more competently this time.

"Sort of wish that lady who brought you over stayed," said the bartender, "Most interesting hair I ever seen."

Charleston looked up from his glass, "I knew a lady who had interesting hair. Knew a few. One had living hair. She was a weird one."

"Nothing like that with this one. Just kept changing color, sort of."

Charleston sat up straight, and looked around, "Where did she go?"

The bartender shrugged, and washed a glass. Charleston stared into his. He remembered what Land Captain said, about people cheating death, and downed his glass. If it had been her, then she probably had her own reasons for leaving so quickly, and would make herself known eventually. Besides, he was here to find information on vampires, and perhaps this Tim Aneric could help.

Charleston could play it dumb, play it cool, or play it angry. He probably had a bit of time before Tim's act ended to decide.

HOW SHOULD CHARLESTON PLAY IT?
Dumb
Cool
Angry

018: Charleston Begins his Quest

2008-06-18T01:31:00.002-04:00

CHOICE A (Investigate the last place he saw the vampire cult): 6 votes
CHOICE B (Hook up with a group of hunters): 3 votes
CHOICE C (Solo it and hope for the best): 0 votes

Charleston's leg was still rather stiff, but he was able to walk without a cane. He knew that this might be disadvantageous, considering how a cane could double as a stake, and he was going to investigate vampires. He still remembered the conversation he had with Robin Banks and Land Captain before submitting his vacation request:

"You said you would either go and investigate the last place you saw the cult, meet up with a group of hunters, or solo it and hope for the best," said Land Captain, "What's the difference between the investigating and soloing it?"

Charleston shrugged, opened his mouth to say something, paused, and shrugged again.

"You weren't going to just blindly wander around, were you?" said Robin, looking over Charleston's request.

Charleston shrugged again, and said, "Maybe."

"So you were just going to wander around and wait for something to happen. No plan and no partner. Where were you planning on doing this wandering?"

Charleston shrugged again. By this point, he had taken off his hat and was holding it in front of him like a shield. He was also looking at the floor, downcast, like a child who had been reprimanded for shaving the cat.

"Also, you refuse to sign the form stating that Edolie DePrit died while on a mission. Why?"

"They didn't find a body."

"Exactly."

"If they didn't find a body, then there's no proof that she's dead."

"He's right," said Land Captain, "Even then, sometimes it's hard to tell. In one of the universes I traveled to, there was this woman who was possessed by a cosmic force and she kept dying and coming back. Heck, look at Jesus Christ. They beat the living daylights out of him and buried him, and he came back three days later."

Robin pinched the bridge of his nose, "You're not helping, Land Captain."

"Just saying. Vampires and zombies, too, but I guess that's a bit different."

Robin sighed, and looked at Charleston, "So you've decided to go to the place you last saw this cult?"

"Yes," said Charleston, "It's a warehouse downtown."

"Are you taking anyone with you?"

"No sir. Edolie said she would help me, and I have faith she'll turn up eventually. Besides, I wouldn't want to put anyone else in harm's way for this. It's personal, after all."

"I reiterate, how is this different from going solo?"

"Well, if I went solo, I guess I'd just wander around dark streets and hope for a vampire to get me. Then I'd get information from him."

"Or you'd become an undead, at which point we'd have to cancel your benefits package and you'd be effectively fired."

Robin signed the vacation request form, and waved to Charleston, "Good bye, and good luck. Hope to see you back soon."

Land Captain shook Charleston's hand, and said, "If you ever need any help, don't hesitate to call me. Ishmael, Liana, and I will be there in a jiffy."

"They're Group LC," said Robin, "It seemed best that way. Now get out of here, you're wasting your..." Robin looked at the vacation request form, "Three years of vacation. Good lord."

Charleston stood up, put on his hat, and walked out the door, "See you soon!"

Now Charleston was standing outside the warehouse. When he had last seen it, it was an abandoned warehouse where the vampire cult had made a sort of shrine to their dark lord.

Now it was a club.

A comedy club.

Not only that, but a popular comedy club.

Charleston sighed. There was a fifteen dollar cover charge to get in, which he thought was rather absurd. He was also pretty sure that only night clubs had cover charges, and thought the word admission might be a much better fit. But no, the sign said cover charge. The comedian, or at least the performer who claimed to be a comedian, was a man named Tim Aneric. Charleston had never heard of him, but there was a line outside the club. Leading to the front door, where there was a cover charge. He had managed to figure out that a cabin was disrupting space-time and creating giant frogs, but was baffled by the fact that there was a cover charge. Chances are, there was also a side or back entrance as well, for staff and talent. He thought for a moment, and came up with four ways to go about this. Other than going home and forgetting about the whole thing and living off vacation pay for the next three years, that is.

The first way would be to pay the cover charge to get inside. The only problem was that this offended Charleston's sensibilities to a point where it hurt his mind. The second way would be to bluff his way inside through the front door, something closer to his heart. There was no outright sneaking into the front door, however, which is what the side door was for. Side doors were made for sneaking. He could also bluff his way in through the side door. He was bound to think of something.

He got into the line, confident that he would think of something before he reached the alley leading to the hypothetical side door.

Which should Charleston choose?
CHOICE A: Pay the cover charge
CHOICE B: Bluff his way in through the front
CHOICE C: Bluff his way in through the back
CHOICE D: Sneak into the back

017: The Frog of Chaos

2008-06-15T01:59:00.000-04:00

Hey, it's the author here. Sorry to get all meta on you, but before we begin with today's session, I'd like to know something. How many of you checked the comments for the previous session?

The reason I ask, see, is because I played a bit of a trick on you. Very unethical and a bit unfair, I know, but I was feeling very mischievous last time. What I did was finish off the last session and give the actual choices for this session in the comments section. You can still go back and read it, if you like, and it wasn't a life-altering choice.

Oh, and for what it's worth, Charleston did end up eating the turkey Lunchable, which was the false choice A. Now, on with this week's session!

Choice A (Find the plopper): 4 votes
Choice B (Investigate the cabin): 3 votes
Choice C (Take a rest): 2 votes

There was another plop. Charleston stood up, clapped his hands once, and said, "Let's find that phantom plopper!"

He held out his hand to Edolie, to help her up, and she said, "That is a ridiculous name." She brushed her hair from her face, and Charleston marveled at how it seemed to shift its color depending on how the light hit it. He wondered why he hadn't noticed it before.

He smiled at her, tipped his hat, and replied, "Then let's find it and give it a proper one, eh?" He twirled his cane, surprised at how cheerful he was. After all, he was basically trapped around what appeared to be a man-made lake with something large, separated by things from a disturbing netherworld by nothing more than a music puzzle. On the other hand, he was trapped with an attractive young woman in a skin-tight suit. Granted, with Charleston's track record, she would end up dead or otherwise taken out of the picture by the end of this adventure. He was mildly surprised it hadn't happened already.

"How do you intend to catch the creature?" said Edolie, looking pensive.

Charleston paused. Right now, catching the creature was fairly impossible. They had no equipment, and unless Charleston wanted to wrestle it to the ground and hog-tie it with vines, there was pretty much no way it could stay caught. Then he pulled the spare Lunchable out of his coat and tore it open. He tossed the dessert and drink to Edolie, and started placing a trail of meat, cheese, and crackers. As he placed the crackers carefully on the water, he motioned for Edolie to step back. She had eaten the dessert and drank the drink. They both hid in some convenient bushes, and watched the crackers.

Several yards from the shore, two bulbous eyes broke the surface of the lake, staring in the direction of the scattered Lunchable. They moved quickly towards the crackers, and the giant frog broke erupted from the lake, devouring the crackers. It began to try to eat the salami and American cheese, but was unable to get them off the ground.

Charleston crawled to a slice of salami, and held it up. The giant frog stared at him, and moved toward him carefully. It opened its mouth, and Charleston tossed it the salami. The tongue came out, snatching the salami in mid-air, and the frog looked expectantly at him. It looked like the same frog Charleston had encountered some months ago, but there was a subtle feeling of wrongness about it. In fact, this entire area was wrong. The colors were much too vibrant, the water was much too pure. Now that he looked at it closely, this entire area was too symmetrical. And in the middle of it, a cabin. He felt Edolie's hand on his shoulder, and felt her breath on his ear as she whispered. It made him shudder.

"What do we do now?"

The frog was still staring at him.

What should have been a routine cryptozoological mission had turned into something that had forced Charleston and Land Captain to deal with aliens, mad scientists, unstable terrain, and nether-creatures from a disturbing beyond. And in the middle of it all, an oasis of something which was all too perfect, some sort of high-definition reality. Except there was a slight blurriness to everything as well, everything except Edolie and the frog. Charleston looked at his hand, and it was as clear as Edolie.

"I think I know what's going on," said Charleston, softly, "I think I've figured it out. We need to get to that cabin, though, and our amphibian friend is going to help us."

Edolie nodded. Charleston knelt down as well as he could and picked up some more meat and cheese.

"Try to get on the frog while I feed it," said Charleston, "It's going to take us to that cabin."

Charleston looked at the cabin, and began stepping back. The frog followed him, showing an amazing affinity to processed meat and cheese. It hardly noticed as Edolie climbed onto its back. Once they were back enough, Charleston carefully turned the frog around. He hurled the cheese and meat into the air, and crawled on top of the frog while it snatched each piece from the air. He carefully wrapped his arms around Edolie, taking care to be gentlemanly about it. He noticed she was blushing.

"Hold on tight, Miss DePrit," said Charleston, "We're going to go on a wild ride."

He removed one of his arms, and raised his cane. He brought it down hard on the frog's backside, and quickly held onto Edolie again. The frog croaked, reared, and leapt through the air, landing in the water several yards from the island the cabin was on. It was at this point that Charleston discovered that his bionic leg had not been modified for aquatics. He began to sink, and while he was sinking, he noticed that the island was anchored by several cables. He hardly had time to think about this when Edolie grabbed his jacket and pulled him to the island's shore, such as it was. He gasped for breath.

"Do you need the kiss of life?" said Edolie, kneeling in front of him. She looked quite concerned.

Charleston spat out water, and held up his hand. Once he had enough air in his system again, he smiled and said, "I'm fine. I'm fine." In the back of his mind, he reminded himself about his girlfriend, the one who had been seduced by a vampire cult.

It was a small island, really, about the size and shape of a moderately sized above-ground pool. The cabin was also quite small, perhaps as big as a four vending machines. Charleston used his cane to help himself up, and he walked over to a tree. Or, what looked like a tree. The bark was too smooth, and the leaves were actually a jumbled mass of green. He pulled out his tape recorder, and began documenting all he knew about this island.

Edolie poked at the other tree, which was exactly like the one Charleston was by, and said, "Why is it humming?"

Charleston paused, and listened. The island was, indeed, humming. Facts were congregating in Charleston's head, and all he had to do was sort them out. He walked over to the fake cabin, and saw that it was not a cabin at all. It was simply some sort of box painted to look like a cabin from far away. It, too, was humming.

"I think I know what's going on here," said Charleston.

"What is it?" said Edolie.

Charleston took a deep breath, and smiled. He liked doing this.

"I don't think this lake is man-made. I think those Alogrins made it."

Edolie gasped, "Why?"

"Well, Land Captain said that they had found a way to hang out in-between dimensions. Something like that would require either a massive power source, or some sort of thing causing the fabric of time and space to weaken. I think this island is that thing."

"Why the lake?"

"Well, remember what I said about water not being affected by things like unstable terrain? They made the lake to be a sort of buffer, as they didn't want to totally obliterate the planet just yet. This island is just floating, tethered to the bottom by cables. I don't think they wanted to create all this unstable terrain, however. I think a common frog made it to this island and was somehow transformed into a giant frog, some sort of frog of chaos. Wherever it went, it caused some form of chaos. Since it lives here, the chaos field emanated from it, creating the unstable terrain."

Edolie thought about this for a minute. "Shouldn't we be affected by it as well?"

Charleston chuckled, and said, "We already are being affected by it. Your hair was red before, wasn't it?"

She nodded.

"It changes with the light, now. It looks quite nice, I'm just worried about the effects it'll have on reality."

"What about you?"

Charleston shrugged, "It's affecting my mind. I'm becoming more and more obscenely cheerful as time goes on. I know how to fix things, though. Or at least, stop them from getting much worse."

"How?"

"I need you to get back to shore. I'm going to implode this thing," he said with a laugh.

"How are you going to do this?"

"I'll just shock it with my cane," said Charleston, "These things are pretty delicate."

"How will you get back to shore?" she said, staring at him. She paused for a moment, and added, "Will you be able to get back?"

He smiled, and then he was chuckling, with tears in his eyes. He was looking at her, and then he doubled over, laughing more and more. He dropped his cane, and said, "There's really no choice here. I have to do this, otherwise the unreality is going to spread farther and farther. Those tunnel things, they'll take over the world." He laughed more and more.

"Go and win back the woman you love, Charleston Charge. I will come back to help you with your task. This I swear," said Edolie as she knelt down to pick up the cane, and then she brought it down heavily on Charleston's head. "You are wrong, Charleston. There is a choice, and it is mine," she said, as he slipped into unconsciousness.

Edolie had been trained by the French secret service, yes, but she originally been a champion tri-athlete. She pulled Charleston into the water and swam across the lake to the other store. She breathed heavily for a minute, grabbed Charleston's cane, and swam back across. She looked at the cane for a moment, and pointed it at the pseudo-cabin.

Charleston woke up at this point, and was just in time to see the blinding flash of the cabin imploding upon itself. He shielded his eyes from the blast, and then braced himself as reality righted itself with a wave of force. The tunnels and their things were gone, as were the musical trees. The unstable terrain stabilized, everything became a bit more real, and the gap between universes closed in upon itself.

"Edolie?" whispered Charleston, with tears in his eyes once again, and then he passed out once again, wondering if there was some way she could have survived. He could not think of one.

Charleston woke up in the back of Ishmael, Land Captain's car. It was remarkably comfortable. What was more, someone had changed his clothes and mended his wounds. He no longer felt obscenely cheerful, but rather quite melancholic. The feeling worsened as he recalled what had happened to Edolie.

Land Captain seemed to materialize out of nowhere, and handed Charleston a mug of hot cocoa.

"Liana is using her fish to try and find Miss DePrit," said Land Captain, "Want to tell me what happened?"

"We had to save the world, and she decided to kill herself to do it," said Charleston, sipping the cocoa, "I was going to do that."

"Are you jealous?"

"No. I just can't imagine why anyone would give their life for mine. This is about the fourth or fifth partner I've lost, Land Captain."

"I know how it is. Way back when, I was flying around in space. I had a space car, and right by my side was a woman named Maria. She was everything I had ever hoped for in a woman, in a partner. Then, one day, we had to make a difficult choice. I was all set to give my life for the universe, but really, I just wanted to save Maria. She had the same idea, though, only she wanted to save me. So I know how it is."

Charleston and Land Captain stared at the horizon for a minute, with the silence being broken only by Charleston sipping his cocoa.

Charleston broke the silence: "A space car? Seriously?"

"That's right," said Land Captain, "Just wanted to let you know you have a sympathetic ear."

"I appreciate it. You have one too, if you ever need it."

Land Captain smiled, and gave Charleston a salute. Charleston returned it, and gave him a weak smile. At that point, he dropped his cocoa on the ground. The reason for this was clear: a giant frog had just come tearing through the trees and landed in front of him. It stared at him, and when no lunchmeat was forthcoming, it croaked, and leapt back through the trees.

"Looks like you've made a friend," said Land Captain, standing up. The frog had knocked him down.

Charleston nodded, "That frog shouldn't exist anymore. It should have gone back to being a regular frog."

Land Captain shrugged, and then waved at the returning Liana. The flock of freak-fish followed her.

"Any luck?" said Land Captain.

"No," said Liana, "There wasn't a trace of her."

Charleston was still staring at the gap the frog had made in the trees. Edolie had promised she would help him, after all. He only wondered how she would manage it. Besides, there was no body.

"What next, Charleston?"

"The woman I love is out there somewhere," said Charleston, "And the only way I'm going to find her is by kicking some vampire butt. There's no doubt about that, the only question is, what route should I take?"

Land Captain smiled, and said, "That's the spirit!"

Charleston smiled back, "I can either go to where I last saw her silly little cult, hook up with a group of hunters and kick vampire backside until we find who I'm looking for, or I can solo it and hope for the best. What do you think I should do, Land Captain?"

"I'd join a group, but it's really up to you, isn't it?"

Charleston nodded. It was always up to him.

WHICH SHOULD CHARLESTON CHOOSE?
CHOICE A (Investigate the last place he saw the vampire cult)
CHOICE B (Hook up with a group of hunters)
CHOICE C (Solo it and hope for the best)

016: A Difficult Choice

2008-06-11T01:13:00.002-04:00

Fight the slaves: 6 votes
Find the sequence: 5 votes

Charleston knew what he had to do. Edolie might be quite a competent fighter, but Charleston had the edge of a body honed by years of training in the lost city of Uhld. Not only that, but Edolie could move faster than he could at the moment. In time, the handicap of a new bionic leg would become the advantage of a bionic leg he was used to. He had no idea what the leg could do, but that would come in time. Right now, he had some things to fight. He kicked himself off the nearest tree into the first thing, and he fell with it into the tunnel. In the distance, he heard Edolie cry out something, but his mind was on the battle. While he beat the thing into submission, heard the now familiar tones of the musical trees, and smiled. The Earth was not very happy about things like unstable terrain, and would put up as much of a fight as it could. The musical trees were the evidence of such a struggle, the Earth's last ditch effort to allow its defenders to stabilize things. Charleston stood up, the thing-slave at his feet. It had died the moment the tunnel things had touched it, and so he felt no remorse that it had entered its final slumber.

Then Charleston realized that he was now in the tunnel, but close enough that he could still see Edolie running through the clearing and hitting trees. He could still hear the tones, but they were faint. So now he had two missions: he had to get back to the clearing while fending off the thing-slaves. However, then he looked around, and realized that he not only had to battle the thing-slaves, but the tunnel things themselves.

He held up his cane like a sword, scowled at the nearest antagonist, and brought the cane down hard. It cracked the thing's skull, or what Charleston assumed was its skull, and it howled. He pointed it at the monkey-like tunnel thing he had seen before, still playing with its rocks but now with an unmistakable malevolence, and pressed a button. They weren't labeled, and were indistinguishable from each other, so it was a gamble. Gas shot out, and the monkey-thing screamed. He turned and brought the cane heavily into another thing-slave, then jabbed it into another thing. He pressed another button, and felt what could only be described as a poit. Charleston had been hoping for the electric shock, and made a mental note to label the buttons somehow. Since the dart did absolutely nothing, he pressed the other button and an electrical shock ran through the thing. Charleston nodded as the thing writhed and fell to the ground. This was incredibly easy, and this fact made Charleston uneasy. He looked up, and saw several thing-slaves heading out of the tunnel. He swung the cane heavily around himself while spraying gas, idly wondering how much gas was in the cane, and ran through the cleared path. He pressed the dart button three times while swinging the cane in a small arc, hitting three thing-slaves. It only annoyed them, and they turned to Charleston. He punched one in the fact with his silver-gloved hand, took a small amount of joy in the act of punching someone in the face, and used his cane to launch himself into the air and he kicked the other two in their faces, and then trod heavily over their bodies. He was in the clear, and just in time: he heard the sound of wood scraping against wood. Edolie had found the sequence. He felt her hand grab his arm, and the pair ran through the newly opened doorway. It was not a tunnel, but a gateway into a stable area.

There was a plop, and the door scraped close.

The area they found themselves in was heavily wooded, with a large body of water in the middle. Charleston noticed that it was edged with cement: a man-made lake. In the middle of the lake was a small cabin with a tree on either side of it. The poor devil who had lived there was probably dead by now, consumed by the things.

"What do we do now, Charleston?" said Edolie, her face flush from trying to find the sequence.

Charleston was not remotely winded, and he took a small amount of pride in this fact, "Well, something is plopping around here. We could either look for it, or try to get to that cabin. We could also maybe take a nap. Hey, I think I have some Lunchables in my coat somewhere, we could eat those."

"Lunchables?"

Charleston searched through the inner pockets on his coat. "Oh yeah. They're these little lunch things for kids. It comes with meat, cheese, and crackers. Some of them come with a drink and dessert, too. They're good."

"Wouldn't the meat and cheese go bad?"

"I've got a special pocket that keeps things fresh indefinitely. My coat is more than meets the eye, Edolie."

Edolie nodded, with a worried sort of smile.

Charleston finally found the pocket which contained the Lunchables, and he pulled some out. He had three. One was turkey with cheddar and wheat crackers, another was ham and Swiss cheese with butter crackers. The third was salami and American cheese on butter crackers. Charleston scowled at the Lunchables. The drinks and desserts were inconsequential. Indeed, this would be his most difficult choice yet...

WHICH SHOULD CHARLESTON CHOOSE?
CHOICE A (Turkey, cheddar, and wheat)
CHOICE B (Ham, Swiss, and butter crackers)
CHOICE C (Salami, American, and butter crackers)

015: Musical Trees

2008-06-08T01:41:00.000-04:00

Left: 6 votes
Right: 0 votes
Straight: 1 vote

Edolie was becoming impatient.

"Let's just go straight!" she said, attempting to pull Charleston along.

"No," said Charleston, "Chances are, going straight would just lead us into an infinite loop."

"What about going right?"

"I don't trust going right. I don't trust it at all."

"Then we are going left?"

Charleston nodded, "I've got a good feeling about going left." He put his hat on Edolie's head and pulled it down over her eyes. "There might be some mind-melting terrors from beyond our world in the tunnel. As long as you don't look at them too closely, they'll leave you alone. In your case, I think it'd be best if you saw nothing at all until we came out of the tunnel."

Edolie nodded, and held the hat over her eyes with her free hand. Charleston fixed his hair a bit, and started into the tunnel. There were indeed terrors from beyond their world in the tunnel, indescrible in their appearance, unknowable in the terror they could evoke.

One of them, looking like a monkey made of bone and stone with hollow eyes but much more terrible, took one rock and tapped it on another in an arrhythmic beat. It stared at Charleston and Edolie as they hurried by.

They left the tunnel and came to a clearing with five trees in it and no other tunnels. Charleston took his hat back from Edolie and put it back onto his own head. He walked to each tree and tapped it with his cane, and each one made a metallic sound.

"This is worse than unstable terrain," said Charleston, "This is magic. Someone, or something, is trying to get through to this world and they found some sort of opening. It might have been those Alogrins Land Captain talked about, or it might be something far more sinister. In any case, whatever is going on here is much bigger than an abnormally large frog or some aliens. The worst part is that we might be stuck in this forest."

"We tied the string to a log," said Edolie, whose eyes betrayed her concern.

Charleston gently pulled the string. It fell to the ground, and when Charleston pulled it to him, he saw that the end had been chewed through. Edolie looked at it with horror.

"We might be screwed," said Charleston, "We can't go back the way we came because every time we go through the same tunnel, we increase the chances of being noticed by those things. Even if we did make it through the tunnel again, we would probably end up somewhere else entirely. Also, unless I miss my guess, there will still be nightfall."

"What happens at nightfall?" said Edolie, pulling Charleston closer to her.

"I've been in one of these situations before. My partner and I decided to try our luck with a tunnel, and those things got him. At first, we thought he had just been freaked out by those things. Instead, they turned him into a walking shell of a man. Over time, he lost his hair, his skin, everything, until he was just a skeleton, kept moving because those things never told him to stop. Since he was out of communication with them, he just stood around and did nothing. If there are any in these woods, though, they'll be in communication with those things, and they're nasty."

There was a plop from the other side of the clearing, opposite the tunnel. Both Charleston and Edolie turned towards it, and then they went over to investigate the wall. There was a hairline crack in it.

"Does this mean we are not stuck?" said Edolie.

"If we can figure out a way to open the door, we might stand a chance," said Charleston, trying to lever the door open with his cane. It wasn't working.

Edolie thought for a moment, "The trees made a noise when you hit them, did they not?"

Charleston nodded, and then looked at Edolie with a smile, "It's some sort of sound puzzle! Five trees, five different notes! All we have to do is figure out the proper sequence and the door will open, hopefully!"

Edolie smiled, "How much time do we have before night falls?"

Charleston looked at the sky. The sun was nearing the tree line. "There's not much time. There are five trees, and I think we can safely assume that, since this puzzle stems from nature itself, that each tree can only be hit once in the sequence of five. I think that's twenty-five different sequences, though I could be wrong, I'm terrible at math." He undid the string tying his hand to Edolie's hand, and felt a bit sad about this. He pushed the sadness aside, however, and pulled out a marker. He wrote "1" on the nearest tree, and marked each tree with a different number.

He walked over to the One tree and tapped it with his cane, then repeated the process with trees Two through Five. The door ceased to open. He tried again...

"One, two, three, five, four. No."

"One, two, five, three, four. No!"

"One, five, two, three, four. No, damn it!"

"Five, one, two, three, four."

"One, two, four, three, five."

Edolie watched as he went from tree to tree, again and again, and she shuddered when a wolf howled in the distance. Charleston stopped and stared at the tunnel. Any moment, the slaves of the tunnel-things would emerge. If they could open the new tunnel, it could lead to salvation. In fact, it was their only chance at salvation, since there was no way they could last the night against a constant siege. Someone would have to fight them off, and someone would have to continue trying to hit the right sequence.

"Edolie, come over here," said Charleston, still staring at the tunnel.

"Yes?" she said, walking over to him.

"Any minute now, those things I told you about are going to start coming. One of us could fight them off while the other tries to get the sequence. I want you to try and get the sequence while I fight," said Charleston.

"No. You are not yet able to fight against so many. I shall fight, you shall solve the sequence."

"I'm slow right now, but I don't really need to be able to run to fight these things. We can't both fight, or both try for the sequence, either. We'd never last the night if we fought, and if we both tried for the sequence, we'd probably keep messing it up."

A tunnel-thing slave walked through the tunnel, bits of flesh clinging to its skeleton. Its eyes were empty. Charleston and Edolie looked at it, and turned to each other. Charleston knew he had to move quickly if he wanted to be the one to fight the slaves, and he had to decide now.

014: Lost in the Woods

2008-06-04T03:52:00.002-04:00

Wait for Edolie: 4 votes
Don't wait for Edolie: 0 votes

Charleston could not, in good conscience, abandon Edolie to her fate. She had many redeeming qualities, after all, and Charleston was sure that, together, they could wrap up this frog thing quite quickly. He sat down on a fallen tree and waited for Edolie.

Fifteen minutes later, he was still waiting for Edolie. He hopped off the fallen tree, grimaced as he landed hard on his bionic leg, and then stumbled back through the woods. He decided to retrace his steps, and eventually found himself right back by the fallen tree.

He pulled out his tape recorder, "More nonsense: after leaving Edolie DePrit by a pond, I decided to go back for her. Despite going straight back the way I came, I ended up back by the fallen tree. Something fishy is going on here."

Charleston knew what to do in this situation: he pulled a spool of string out of his pocket, tied one end to a branch, and began walking, making sure the string remained straight. He wound up back by the fallen tree, with the string still perfectly straight. He sat on the fallen tree again and sighed deeply. He hated unstable terrain.

While he debated about what to do, Edolie came into the clearing, following the string.

"Charleston! Why did you run off and leave me?" she said.

Charleston shrugged, "I thought you might want to change out of your wetsuit."

"It is not a wet-suit. It is an action-suit."

Charleston nodded. Many of the newer agents were opting to wear action-suits, all purpose suits which gave them maximum mobility while showing off their physiques. Charleston was unsure why they needed to wear them while selling insurance, but appreciated their use in a case like this. Besides, thought Charleston, Edolie filled her suit out nicely.

"Why is there a string?" she said.

"I was checking for unstable terrain. Unfortunately, I found out that it was."

Edolie sat next to him, "What do we do?"

Charleston tried to remain professional, and reminded himself of his vampire-possessed girlfriend. "Well, in some cases, there's naturally unstable terrain. You just go in the loop a few times or check for it, and it stabilizes for a bit. Then there's unnaturally unstable terrain, which is terrible since you can't figure out which way is which. Something is probably causing it."

"Oh," said Edolie, looking sadly at the ground.

Charleston felt his heart break a little at the thought of her sadness, tried hard to remember himself and ignore her, and he cursed and blessed whoever assigned Edolie to him. Then he heard a plop, coming from the same direction it had before. Both he and Edolie turned towards the sound.

"I think whatever is making that plop is making the terrain unstable," said Charleston, "I think it's trying to draw people towards it."

Edolie hopped off the tree, and asked, "What if it's a trap?"

She held out her hand to help Charleston down. He gladly took it. "I've a brand new cane and a young woman in an action suit. I'd say we'd be giving it a pretty good fight." Edolie smiled, and Charleston forgot why they were there for a moment. He recovered himself, and added, "I don't know how far away the plopper is going to be. We might have to go through the unstable terrain a bit, and if we do, well, there are some things that live in unstable terrain. Things which are pretty terrible, Edolie."

"I laugh at terror!" said Edolie, "Ha ha ha!"

"You can't be flippant about this," said Charleston, "This is serious business. You mustn’t interact with any living creature except me until we get to a bit where the terrain has settled down."

"I will hold your hand, then, so that we do not get separated. Good idea, yes?" She grabbed Charleston's hand.

"Yes," said Charleston weakly, "Very good idea."

"How will we know when the terrain is stable?"

"We'll know if we come to a large body of water. Water is naturally unstable, so it's unaffected by unstable terrain. This doesn’t mean some of the unstable creatures don’t live in it, though."

Edolie nodded.

Charleston stared at her for a moment, and then at the spool of string. He untied it from the branch and gave it a good yank, bringing it towards him. He took a length of string and wrapped it around his and Edolie's joined hands. Then he tied one end to a branch again, and the pair set out. Shortly after, they encountered a fork in the path. The woods had become quite dense, but there were three large hollow logs. They were dark inside, but looked large enough to walk through.

"Which way?" asked Edolie.

"I don't hear any music," said Charleston, "Sometimes you can hear music coming from a certain tunnel. It's sort of creepy, but quite helpful. So I guess we leave it up to chance and go left, right, or straight."

Edolie nodded, and Charleston hoped that they would choose the correct direction. He would hate to die in these woods.

013: Edolie's Fury

2008-06-01T00:54:00.001-04:00

Liana's laboratory: 0 votes
Up the stream: 9 votes
In the woods: 3 votes

"Well," said Liana, "The best place to find frogs is upstream."

"Brilliant idea," said Charleston, "Except I just realized that we probably can't go upstream in this thing. Unless we have some sort of boat."

"No boat," said Land Captain, "Mister Banks did send two pairs of fancy water-shoes, though."

Charleston stared at him in disbelief, "He sent water-shoes on a mission with a man who is walking with a cane?"

"Well, maybe you can build a little raft and Miss DePrit can sort of drag you along, Charleston," said Land Captain, "Liana and I will stay here and set up a base."

"Why aren't you coming?"

"I can't stand the water, sir."

"You're a captain, though!"

"The Land Captain."

Charleston pondered this for a moment, and then nodded, "Yes. Yes you are. Do we at least have some tents we can take with us in case it takes longer to get upstream than I think it will?"

"I have already prepared the supplies," said Edolie, "We are ready, Mister Charge!"

"I like your gumption," said Charleston, tipping his hat.

"Thank you, Mister Charge. Liana has gone to fetch a rubber raft she kept in her lab. When she returns, we can depart."

Charleston nodded, and exited the RV. The last time he had been here, Liana had attacked him with a school of murderous flying fish. He hoped this time would go better. Liana emerged from the very lab she had attacked him in, with a self-inflating raft. She inflated it and placed it in the water. Edolie put the supplies in the raft, and beckoned Charleston forward. He eased himself into the raft as Edolie put on a pair of water-shoes and a skin-tight wetsuit.

Well, thought Charleston, at least the view will be nice.

The pair set out, with Charleston trying not to stare at Edolie’s backside. Unfortunately, it was the most interesting thing to see. Ten minutes later, they came to the end of the stream, to a small pond. The raft completely covered it. Edolie helped Charleston out of the raft.

"Well," said Charleston, "I've seen this frog. It couldn't fit into this pond."

Edolie nodded, "I have heard your report. I do not think any frog lives in this pond, to be honest. It is not the right sort of place for a frog."

Charleston could not help himself, "So you say there are no frogs here?"

"There are no frogs here."

"Ah, but there's one frog here," said Charleston, pointing at Edolie, "You're French! You're a frog!" He laughed.

Edolie looked at him coldly, "That is not funny, Mister Charge."

Charleston laughed some more, and said, "I know, it's terrible. I just couldn't help myself."

Edolie went from cold, to pouty, "I thought we might be friends, Mister Charge, and then you go and make fun of me." She turned around. "You make me sad. Why do you do this?" She began to cry.

Charleston's heart broke. "I'm sorry, Edolie, I just thought it would be funny, is all."

The tears vanished, and she turned around and poked him in the chest, "It is not funny, Mister Charge! Why do you make fun of me for my own amusement? I cannot help being French! The only one who could receive any amount of joy from your terrible joke is you! There is no one else here!"

Charleston backed away from Edolie’s fury. "I'm sorry, Edolie, I really am. I didn't know-"

"You did not know? You did not know? Oh, I shall make fun of her and not know it would hurt her! I read your file, Mister Charge! It is no wonder your girlfriend left you for a vampire, if you are this rude!" Edolie’s hand shot to her mouth.

Charleston looked at the ground and covered his face, "She was under mind control, or something. He had a glamour on her I think. Someday I'm going to go free her, and we'll be happy. Until then, please don't mention her. It hurts too much to hear about her, to know that I might never get to see her again, to hold her again. I can win her back, I just know I can, if I just get a chance. I don't care what anyone else says. I can win her back." He turned around.

Edolie and Charleston stood by the pond for a moment, in silence. In the distance, there was a plop.

"I am sorry, Mister Charge," said Edolie, "I was out of place to say that."

Charleston said nothing.

"Please, Mister Charge!" said Edolie, stepping forward and putting her hand on his shoulder, "Please do not hate me! We have only known each other for not even one day, and I do not want us to get a bad start!"

Charleston put his finger to his lips, and shushed her.

In the distance, there was another plop.

"Did you hear that?" he whispered.

"Do you think it is the frog?" asked Edolie.

"Maybe. I think we should go after it."

"Yeah," said Charleston, "Get the capture stuff out of the raft. I need to take some notes."

Edolie trotted over to the raft, and Charleston pulled out his tape recorder. He sighed happily, and turned it on, "During a brief verbal confrontation with my partner, I heard what sounded like a plop in the distance. We suspect it may be the frog we are looking for. Edolie has gone to get supplies, and then we are setting off after it." He put the tape recorder away as Edolie walked back with a satchel.

"This will be all we need, Mister Charge," she said.

Charleston took Edolie’s hand, and looked her in the eyes, "Edolie, before we go, I want to apologize for what I said. It was very rude of me, and I'm usually not like that. I have no idea what came over me."

Edolie was blushing, and she smiled a little, "I would also like to apologize. It was unprofessional of me to bring up your personal past, Mister Charge."

"Well, we have time to make it up to each other. Oh, and call me Charleston." He pulled his hand back, smiled, and walked off in the direction of the plop. "Hopefully you'll live! All my other partners have been killed or otherwise disposed of in the line of duty!" He tipped his hat to her, and walked off into the woods.

"Are you making a joke again, Charleston?" said Edolie, with a chuckle. After a few seconds, she said, "Charleston?"

He was already out of earshot, adapting nicely to his cane and bionic leg. He honestly did hope Edolie would live, and therefore stopped for a moment to plan his next course of action.

He could continue on without Edolie. This would give him the chance to investigate by himself. Unfortunately, this would also leave Edolie alone in the woods. Charleston distrusted the woods, and really didn't want to leave Edolie in there alone.

Then again, if he waited for her, she would be put directly into harm's way. He could protect her better, but the fact remained that all his other partners met their fate when Charleston was there to watch. It was a difficult choice, but one he had to make quickly.

012: Edolie DePrit

2008-05-28T00:41:00.002-04:00

Ubreakable fiberglass cane: 2 votes
Cane with a concealed blade: 2 votes
Techno-cane: 5 votes

Charleston Charge was quite angry. Nurse Melody had insisted on dressing him, and her bedside manner left a lot to be desired. The pants had been an especially dire trial. He had steadfastly refused to put on his long coat and fedora-like hat, and they were now draped on the back of the wheelchair he had been forced to sit in. As he was wheeled through the front doors of TYRIS, he saw Land Captain standing with Liana Koleyna and another woman. An RV with two trailers latched to it was behind them.

"Ahoy, Charleston," said Land Captain with a salute, "I'm still assigned to drive you for this mission. They've also put me in charge of keeping Liana out of trouble, so she's coming along too. She's not too crazy anymore, though, so you don't have to worry."

"Not really all that worried, Land Captain. I am wondering who she is, though," said Charleston, pointing at the other woman.

"My name is Edolie DePrit. I am your assistant," she said.

"I see," said Charleston, whose eyes refused to stop looking at Edolie. He blinked several times, and then looked back over to Land Captain, "What's in the trailers?"

"Well, we'll be doing most of our living in the RV. The first trailer has our food and other supplies, while the other one has some other supplies. Paraphernalia, you might call it."

Charleston narrowed his eyes, "What sort of paraphernalia?"

"Well, Ishmael's in there, for one thing."

"What else is in there, Land Captain?"

"Liana's fish."

"The ones that mangled my leg?"

"They might come in handy, Mister Charge! Besides, Liana says they're really well trained. They won't attack anyone without her telling them to."

"I want to hear it from her. Is this true, Liana?"

She blushed, then nodded and smiled.

"Why are you being so quiet?" said Charleston.

"She's sort of embarrassed about the whole evil genius thing, Mister Charge. She should get over it eventually, though."

"Yes. I see," said Charleston. He thought for a moment, and then turned back to Edolie, "What are your qualifications?"

"I was trained as a field agent for the French secret service with a concentration in medicine. I promise you I will not slow you down while we pursue the frog," said Edolie.

"Wait, we?"

"Well, yes. While you have your new cane, it would not wise to send you wandering around the woods by yourself while you adjust to your new leg. I will be your partner, your constant companion, your shadow."

"How are you in the woods, though?"

"I've been given what I've been told to be the proper attire, and a quick lesson in forest survival. So I am adequate for our purpose."

"Oh. How did you know which cane I wanted? I only decided last night."

"I was not the one who ordered your cane. Someone merely assumed you would want this one," said Edolie, proffering a box.

Charleston opened it to find the titanium-reinforced techno-cane. He took it out of the box, and weighed it thoughtfully. "Edolie, help me up. I would like to try out this cane."

Edolie held out an arm, and Charleston used it to stand up. He wavered for a moment, and then placed the cane on the ground. When he thought he had attained some balance, he let go of Edolie's arm. He was unsteady for a moment, but managed to remain erect. He took an experimental step, and found his new leg to be nearly indistinguishable from the biological one. He took his coat from the back of the wheelchair, having Edolie helping him into it, and then he picked up his hat and placed it carefully on his head.

"All right, I'm ready," said Charleston, heading over to the RV. Edolie helped him into the passenger seat, while Land Captain prepared to drive. Liana and Edolie went into the back of the RV.

"Where to, Charleston?" asked Land Captain, "I know we're off to find the frog, but where should we set up camp?"

"Well, we could set it up in front of Liana's lab. We could also go into the woods, or follow the river."

"Pretty much the same choices we had when we first went to find out if the frog existed," said Land Captain.

"Pretty much." Except, this time, they had someone who knew the area with them. Charleston chose to take advantage of this. He turned around, and said, "Well, Liana, what do you think?"

011: One Froggy Mission

2008-05-25T14:54:00.001-04:00

Charleston Charge and the Frog of Chaos: 6 votes
Charleston Charge and the False Prophet: 5 votes
Charleston Charge and the Lost City of Uhld: 0 votes

Charleston thoughtfully chewed his delicious waffles. It had been a month since Land Captain had rescued him from Liana Koleyna, and he had almost completely healed. In any case, he was more than able to leave TYRIS and pursue a goal or two. He knew what he wanted to do, too. He would seek out the cult of the False Prophet, and hopefully free his girlfriend from the False Prophet's thrall. It would take some work, and some time off, but he was willing to do the first one and had plenty of the second one coming to him. He hit the alert button, and a nurse who looked like a fertility goddess came in.

"Yes, Mister Charge?" she asked, her voice low and gruff.

"I would like a vacation form, Miss Melody," said Charleston, "Oh, and some more waffles."

An hour later, after the form had been filled out and returned and the waffles eaten, Robin Banks arrived, with a smile on his face.

"So you're ready to leave, Charleston?" he said.

"Sure am."

"Then we should celebrate!" said Robin, throwing some confetti at Charleston.

He picked up one of the larger pieces, and saw that it was his vacation form, shred to bits. He looked over to Robin, who radiated smugness.

"You're still on assignment, Charleston. After you bag the frog, or at least find out what its deal is, then you can take your vacation."

"You're a jerk, Robin."

"Hey, it's not me. This order came from the Dispatcher himself. Too many agents have been taking missions to exotic locations only to quit them and take two weeks of vacation."

"My mission is in a forest, and you know how much I hate recreational camping. I always attract every weird creature within a ten mile radius. It's hard to relax when every cryptozoological creature, escaped government experiment, and alien pet around is bothering you."

"Then you'll be pleased to know that you won't be going on this assignment alone, and we've provided adequate shelter for the duration of the mission."

"You mean I have to stay out there until I find the frog?"

"Certainly. Land Captain says you were quite interested in finding the frog, after all. You should be pleased."

"I was interested when I didn't know I'd be forced to spend who knows how much time in the woods."

Robin shrugged, and said, "You leave tomorrow. I've sent someone to fetch your clothes. You've no way out of this, by the way, so don't even try."

"I wasn't even planning on it."

"Certainly. Now, since you're technically handicapped now, with a bionic leg, we thought it would be wise to supply you with a cane and an assistant. While you do not have the choice of assistant, we will allow you to choose your cane. We know how much you like choices, Charleston."

"This is pretty much the worse choice you could give me, Robin."

"What with you setting off to finish your mission tomorrow, we thought it'd be wise to just give you a small choice to make. Keep your mental reserves as full as you can, and all that."

"You're a saint, Robin."

"Here's a brochure with all the fun and interesting canes you can choose. Have fun, Charleston."

Charleston sighed, and looked at the brochure. Three canes caught his eye: one was a fiberglass cane, supposedly able to break through cinder blocks. Potentially useful, thought Charleston. The other was a simple wooden cane, at least on the outside. Its head came off, revealing a long, thin blade. It had its charms, certainly. The third was, by far, the most technologically impressive. Its head had several buttons on it, and it was apparently able to fire darts, shoot out gas, and emit electrical shocks. It was made of finished oak with a titanium center.

Well, thought Charleston, I might as well choose.

010: Attack of the Wichthyologist

2008-05-21T03:57:00.002-04:00

Try to disable Koleyna: 3 votes
Hide, then surprise Koleyna: 4 votes
Block the door: 2 votes

Land Captain came to a decision.

"Safety first!" he said, quickly driving down a side-street so he could bring the car around to the back of the TYRIS building, and then everything went black. Moments later, Land Captain awoke to find that the goggles had disengaged themselves. He took off his hat and rubbed his temples, then looked out the window. The blue fog had lifted, and the world was filled with people again.

"My readings indicated that Professor Koleyna-" said Ishmael.

"Wishyologeist," said Land Captain, "Witsh... witchyologist."

"-has entered the building. She is headed to the fifth floor, to what I assume is Mister Charge's room."

"I have to go shtop her," said Land Captain, opening the door. Or at least trying to open the door. After several failed attempts, Ishmael opened the door for him. Land Captain tried to step out of the car and fell on his face.

"Are you all right, Land Captain?" said Ishmael.

"If I don't stop her, if I don't, then she'll kill Mister Charge with her fish," said Land Captain.

"Yes, but you're clearly in no state to go after her."

"Why dint you tell me about this?"

"I did not know how the human body would react to being disengaged."

Land Captain placed his hand on the hood of the car, and whispered, "Shock me."

"Excuse me?"

He raised his voice, "Shock me."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"I'm not giving you a choice! SHOCK ME!"

"Very well," said Ishmael, shutting his door. He emitted a small electric shock. Land Captain shook for the duration, then fell to the ground. Ishmael backed away, and tried to whisper, "Land Captain?"

Land Captain leapt to his feet, sizzling slightly, and he pointed to Ishmael. "No need to worry, Ishmael. That was just what I needed! Off I go!"

"Godspeed, Land Captain," said Ishmael as Land Captain dashed down the alley.

When he turned the corner, he collapsed against the wall. With some effort, he managed to work his way down to the door. A woman in a purple suit held the door open for him as he grabbed onto a plastic tree in the lobby. Both man and tree fell to the ground, causing the security guard to investigate.

"What happened to you, man?" asked the security guard, "Did you get that fish bitch?"

"She's in the building, but in another dimension," said Land Captain, "You need to get me to Mister Charge's room immediately. She's going after him."

The security guard, having worked at TYRIS for several years, did not question Land Captain. In any case, the superhero was a mess. The medical ward would be the best place for him. The guard helped Land Captain to his feet, and walked with him to the elevator. As they waited for the elevator, the guard reached for his radio.

"All available units, we reports of a possible extra-dimensional disturbance in the med ward. This is not a drill. All available units report to the med ward."

Several guards ran into the room as the elevator came, and they all piled into elevator with Land Captain and his helper.

"What's the plan, sarge?" asked one of the guards.

"Try to take her down without killing her. The same doesn't go for her fish friends," said Sarge, gently helping Land Captain into a corner, "Keep in mind we're probably going to be doing this in a hospital room with an injured man inside, as well."

The other guards were silent.

"We're pretty much screwed, aren't we, sarge?"

Sarge was silent. Then he nodded. The doors opened, revealing a perfectly calm hallway. Two more guards were stationed outside Charleston's room. Sarge led the other guards to the door of the room, which was still open. Inside, everything was peaceful.

"What's going on?" asked Charleston, sitting there and hitting a cup of gelatin with a spork.

Several guards walked in and stood by Charleston's bed, aiming their multi-purpose weapons at the opposite wall. They were set to give off a wide electric pulse, designed to react with a creature's nervous system in such a way that it turned off. Sarge remained in the doorway.

"We've had reports that there may be an attack on you," said Sarge, but was unable to continue because the door slammed into his face. He fell to the ground, blood gushing from his nose. Land Captain, who was sitting on the floor by the elevator, had rolled up his sleeves, revealing silver sleeves underneath. He hit his forearms together, and his entire body began to shimmer. He crawled over to an unused IV drip, used it as a support to get himself up, and then quickly made his way towards Charleston's room. He was halfway there when the screams started. He began to hobble more quickly, and finally reached the door, ramming into it. It burst open, and Land Captain fell to the floor and became covered in blood.

Koleyna, who had perched on the foot of Charleston's bed, turned to Land Captain. Charleston was unharmed, but his gelatin had been ruined. He looked shocked. The ceiling was covered with fish, and occasionally a drop of blood would hit the floor.

"Who the hell are you?" she said, stepping off the bed.

"I'm Land Captain, and you must be the Witchyologist."

"I've heard of you," said Koleyna, crouching down in front of Land Captain, "My employers had an awful lot to say about you. Imagine how pleased they'll be when I tell them my fish made a snack out of you."

Land Captain was stricken, not because of the threat, but because she hadn't noticed what he had said, "I've already taken care of your employers, Witchyologist," spat Land Captain, "Now it's your turn, Witchyologist."

She laughed. It was almost pleasant, and there was a cough from the bed.

"Why do you keep saying Witchyologist?" said Charleston. All in all, he was remarkably calm.

"It's her, Mister Charge," said Land Captain, "I figured that she's a fish doctor and not too nice, so she's the Witchyologist."

Charleston nodded, "Makes sense. Pretty clever, too."

"Thanks, Mister Charge."

"You made up a super-villain name for me?" said Koleyna.

"Sure did, miss," said Land Captain, "Now, if you'll just-"

"You made up a super-villain name for me," said Koleyna. She had tears in her eyes.

"Kind of figured with my motif and all, you could be my arch-enemy," said Land Captain, "You could wear a witch's outfit made of fish scales or something."

Koleyna sat down, tears running down her cheeks, "I think that's possibly the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me... Land Captain, was it?"

"Uh, yes, miss."

"All my life, I've had to do everything by myself. They always gave me such independence, and then thought I was okay being by myself. No one ever thought to ask if maybe I wanted some sort of aide, or if I wanted to help my grandfather catch fish. They just assumed I didn't. Then those aliens came, and they left me alone, too, to make their fish to take over the world. I've always been all alone. No one has ever really thought about me," said Koleyna, wiping away tears.

"No problem, miss. My pleasure. Now, about the arch-villain thing..."

Koleyna stood up, and walked over to Charleston's bed.

"I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused you, Mister Charge," she said, reaching out a hand, "I know I'll probably be going to jail for assault and multiple murders, but I really am sorry about all of this."

"Yeah, I heard the whole thing," said Charleston, "Crappy life, lashing out. I'll put in a good word for you. Besides, the only guard who's actually a human being is the sergeant. All the others are things called flesh-pods."

"Thank you, Mister Charge," said Koleyna, walking over to Land Captain. She reached out a hand and helped him up. "And thank you, Land Captain." She put her arms around him, said, "Maybe when I'm done serving my sentence, could I look you up?"

"Sure, miss."

"Please, call me Liana," she said, "I don't think I'd want to be your arch, though. How would you feel about a partner?"

"I'd have to run it past my car, first, but I think I'd like that."

The sergeant came in, his nose bandaged up, and said, "All right, Professor, I'd hate to interrupt, but you've got a debt to society to pay."

Professor Liana Koleyna nodded, and said, "One more thing, officer." Then she kissed Land Captain.

Charleston chuckled.

After Liana was led away, Land Captain was helped into a wheelchair and both he and Charleston were moved to another room. The freak fish seemed reluctant to leave the room, and workers were even now installing a piece of Plexiglas over the door. No one was sure about what could be done with the fish. At Land Captain's request, Ishmael had been told how things had gone. The car seemed pleased.

Later that day, while Charleston and Land Captain were enjoying some delicious waffles, Robin Banks arrived with a smile on his face.

"Good job, Land Captain," he said, extending a hand which Land Captain shook, "You really came through for us. I've got good news, too. Since the flesh-pods are artificial constructs owned by TYRIS, Professor Koleyna is being released into our custody, if that's all right with her assault victim. Charleston?"

Charleston nodded, his mouth full of waffle.

"Excellent," said Robin, "I'm glad to see you're both recovering. I'd like you to discuss what you'd like to do next. When you figure it out, just call the Dispatcher."

Robin left the room, and Land Captain and Charleston finished their waffles.

"How do you feel, since you saved the day?" asked Charleston.

"I feel pretty good, Mister Charge," said Land Captain, "I'm glad it ended how it did. I sort of hope I get to see Liana pretty soon, though."

"I think it'll happen," said Charleston, "Employees get a whole load of fringe benefits, one of which is being rewarded for saving the lives of other employees. What are you going to do next?"

"I'm going to go back on my normal driving assignments. I don't have the knack for selling things, after all. I have the potential to do the most good on the move. What about you, Mister Charge?"

"You can call me Charleston at this point, Land Captain. Well, I have been giving it a lot of thought. One of the things I'd like to do is go back and find out what was up with the giant frog. That's been bugging me since I got over the fact that I have a new leg. Seeing you and Liana like that, though, got me to thinking about my girlfriend."

"You have a lady friend, Mister... Charleston?"

"Well, I did. I haven't seen her in several years, though. The last I saw of her, she was being led into a vampiric cult led by a guy who called himself the False Prophet. I tried to get her out, but I think she was under mind control or something. I'd like to track her down, maybe kick some vampire ass."

"Language, Charleston."

"Sure, Land Captain. Vampire behind. Kick some vampire behind. I have some vacation time coming to me, so it wouldn't be a drain on the company. I might also go back home for a little while."

"Where do you live?"

"Not where I live. My home. It's a city called Uhld. Oh well. I've got some time to think about it."

At this point, the sun set, and somewhere miles away, a giant frog plopped into a man-made lake.

009: Wichthyologist

2008-05-18T00:10:00.000-04:00

Full speed ahead: 3 votes
Let Land Captain drive: 0 votes
Use... the goggles: 6 votes

Ishmael's synapses fired off, running complex scenarios involving each decision. In the end, only one seemed acceptable: letting Land Captain use the goggles. Ishmael also rationalized that, should Land Captain be rendered comatose by the use of the goggles, then he could whisked back to TYRIS. If Ishmael was rendered nonoperational, then Land Captain would be stuck in this weird world between dimensions for who knows how long?

"I have reached my decision," said Ishmael, mere seconds since Land Captain had beseeched Ishmael to make his decision quickly, "I shall allow you to use the goggles."

"Excellent," said Land captain, grabbing the goggles that were lowered in front of him, "Let's go catch ourselves that ichthyologist witch!"

Land Captain paused, holding the goggles in his hands, and then a smile spread across her face, "My god, that's what I'll call her! I'll call her the Wichthyologist!"

"Need I remind you that time is of the essence?" asked Ishmael.

"No, just thinking out loud."

"One last thing. I've been wondering, you told the Alogrins that there was an easy way and a hard way. What was the easy way?"

"Fighting them was the easy way. The hard way would have been not punching those blasted aliens. I never said it was hard for them, did I?"

"I suppose not."

"Now then," said Land Captain, placing the goggles over his eyes, "How do these work?"

"In a few moments, after the cranial nodes calibrate, my headlights will convert to makeshift visual apparati, allowing you to see through them and sense what's coming. As thus, you'll be able to move my form freely and with only a moment's thought. It'll be just like walking."

"Really?"

"No. However, the actual mechanics of the goggles are so hopelessly complex that I am forced to make things up in order to spare your mind. After all, the stronger your mind is, the less prone you'll be to the mind-shattering effects the goggles may have upon you."

Land Captain paused for a minute, and then said, "I just felt my ear sizzle."

"That was the goggles. Think about moving."

Land Captain did so. The car lurched forward. He lurched several more times, and then the car started moving forward smoothly. It gradually picked up speed, eventually moving so fast that the car was a blur, moving past the buildings, all enveloped in a blue fog. There were no people or vehicles visible in this world between dimensions, though, something Land Captain would have to figure out later. He assumed that, since people and vehicles were static objects, they didn't appear here. It made as much sense as any other explanation.

Ishmael's voice rang in Land Captain's ear, "I'm picking up the readings of an Alogrin jumper unit. It's charging up, but well past the fifty percent mark."

"We should get there in plenty of time," said Land Captain.

"It takes several minutes to disengage from the goggles. I am not giving you the option of forgoing that process, as the chances that it would break your mind are nearly one hundred percent."

"So what choices do I have?"

"Either you could try to pin her under the car, though you'd have to stop slowing down now in order not to kill her. This would have the benefit of allowing us to stop her from entering the real world and attacking TYRIS with her fish. There is the fact that she may have some sort of verbal control over her fish, and therefore she may be able to attack you while you're defenseless."

"Not sure I like that."

"The second option is that we hide somewhere around the TYRIS building, which would allow you to disengage from the system without error. It would also allow me to recharge enough to jump after Professor Koleyna-"

"Wichthyologist."

"-Professor Koleyna and hopefully stop her. This has the added bonus of the element of surprise, something this situation would greatly benefit from."

"Is there a third option?"

"I'm guessing Koleyna wants to enter the building and pop up in Mister Charge's recovery room. We could pull in front of the door and hope for the best. Whatever you'd like to do, Land Captain. We're coming up on Koleyna quickly."

Land Captain's mind raced. What should he do?

008: Ishmael's Decision

2008-05-14T00:00:00.001-04:00

Barge in: 2 votes
Sneak in: 10 votes
Decide later: 0 votes

Land Captain continued drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, and then suddenly stopped. "It seems to me that we really don't know what's on the other side. So what I'm thinking is that you activate your cloaking device, and then we proceed full speed ahead."

"Aye aye, captain," replied Ishmael.

They entered the portal, and wound up right back in front of the laboratory. Only everything was enveloped in a sort of blue fog, and the Alogrins were standing all over the place. None had noticed Ishmael's arrival.

Land Captain leaned over to Ishmael's stereo, and whispered, "Drive as slowly as you can into the woods. I've got some more thinking to do."

Ishmael did so, managing a sufficient blend of speed and stealth, and with a bit of luck they parked several yards away from the tree line. Once they thought they were safe, Land Captain exhaled. He had been holding his breath.

"Where are we, Ishmael?"

"We appear to be on Earth. The same Earth, no less. We know the Alogrins have technology to jump from universe to universe, and I know how it works, as it's the technology I use. However, they seem to have modified it to deposit them in between the jump."

Land Captain nodded. He remembered how a group of Alogrins had contacted him to see if he would track a group of evil Alogrins who had designs on the destruction of the multi-verse, and how they had modified his Buick Electra to be able to jump between dimensions and do all sorts of other fancy things.

"Wasn't that tunnel thing the jump?" asked Land Captain.

"Indeed, but right now we are in mid-leap, so to speak. Closer to the Earth we currently reside on, yes, as being directly half-way between the two universes would no doubt tear us apart," said Ishmael.

Land Captain nodded, "So right now we're between dimensions with a group of evil aliens and a demented ichthyologist. How's the atmosphere?"

"Everything appears nominal."

"Gravity and all that okay?"

"Aye aye, captain."

Land Captain smiled. So far, life in this universe- or more accurately, the universe they jumped from- had been all right but a bit dull. A little driving here and there, yes, but up until now the most excitement he had experienced was delivering Charleston Charge to TYRIS. Now, he had his old group of foes, and what was potentially a new archenemy. He couldn't wait to go head-to-head with her.

"Take off your cloaking device, Ishmael. It's time we made ourselves known. Then switch to manual. I know you don't like it, but sometimes in life there's just times when a man has to take the wheel."

Ishmael did so, and Land Captain set his hands on the steering wheel, at 10 and 2. He checked his mirrors, buckled his seat-belt, and then turned off the car. He took a deep breath, turned the key, and let the engine's purring engulf him. This is what he lived for. Not driving people around, not trying to figure out what the heck to do. He could do those, yes, but they didn't complete him. But right now, at this very moment, this is what made his life worth living. Just a man, a car, and a group of perps waiting to be collared.

He put his foot on the gas pedal and drove out to meet his foes. Despite the short distance, he was still able to gain enough speed to drift in front of the lab. With one swift movement, he turned off the car and unbuckled his seat belt. Before the car had come to a complete stop, he had already opened the passenger's door and dived through it. He hit the ground with a roll, and came up with his fist connected with a surprised Alogrin's chin. It fell to the ground, and Land Captain grinned. He managed a back-flip, landing on the top of Ishmael, and he stood up, hands on his hips, and looked down at the shocked Alogrins.

"Remember me, you scurvy dogs?" he shouted. The Alogrins were tall, thin, and deep blue with egg-shaped heads and bulbous black eyes. The ones who had a streak of decency had taken to tattooing little emblems on their chests, which none of the Alogrins here had.

The Alogrins were hushed, and one stepped out of the crowd. He was a bit taller than the rest, and a lighter shade of blue, his eyes had white specks. Land Captain knew these were the marks of an elderly Alogrin.

He began to speak, and the special circuitry in Land Captain's hat translated the words, "Don't meddle in the affairs of your betters, Land Captain!"

"I'm looking for Professor Liana Koleyna," said Land Captain, "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way!" He sighed, knowing that that was a very clichéd thing to say.

The elderly Alogrin clenched his fist, and thrust it at Land Captain. The surrounding aliens nodded, and advanced. Land Captain laughed, and leapt off the car, kicking the nearest Alogrin in the chin. He picked up the fallen alien, hefting it above his head, and hurled it at several more of them. They fell. Land Captain knew that the Alogrins had never been able to fully compensate for Earth's atmosphere, and so they usually relied on sheer numbers to overwhelm their Earth-based foes. In space, it was a completely different matter, but here and now, Land Captain had the edge. He launched himself into the biggest cluster of Alogrins, and began throwing kicks and punches. He grabbed the wrist of an Alogrin who had tried to punch him, and yanked the alien with such force that it was hurled behind him, knocking out several of its fellows. Soon, the entire cluster was taken down, and the remaining Alogrins maintained a safe distance.

"So, do you want to tell me where she is?" asked Land Captain, fists still clenched, "Or do I have to take out the rest of you?"

"You win, Land Captain," sighed the Alogrin elder, "She claimed she needed to finish a job, and headed off down the road in one of our vehicles." He pointed down the road, in the general direction of TYRIS.

This fact was not lost on Land Captain. He walked over to the Alogrin elder and did his best to look menacing, growling, "What did she take with her?"

"Some of her creations and the jumper we gave her," said the Alogrin, shrinking back, "Please don't hurt me," he added in a whisper.

Land Captain turned, "That fiend! I've no doubt she's planning to finish off Mister Charge, or perhaps that entire branch of TYRIS! I've got to stop her!" He ran over to Ishmael, but before he got in, he turned back to the Alogrin elder and said, "You lot have until I get back to clear out of here! If I catch you in these parts again, I'll make you walk the bloody plank!" Hoping his threat was sufficient, he climbed into Ishmael and started the car.

"Well done, sir. I've transmitted a report of this to what passes as the Alogrin authorities, so it'll most likely get cleared up. However, I do have some bad news."

"Can't it wait? We have to stop Koleyna!"

"It can't, sir. Being in a state of mid-jump is wreaking havoc with my programming and power reserves. If either gets too low, you may not be able to return."

Land Captain drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, and said, "What does that mean, exactly? I mean, I know what it means, but how does that effect me?"

"If I use my maximum speed to reach Koleyna, there is a chance my programming will buckle from the strain of being in two places at once. Likewise, if I allow you to drive, then there is a good chance my power reserves will run dry. They are not recharging as efficiently in this in-between world as they would in a normal universe."

"I could drive at your maximum speed," said Land Captain.

"You're a good driver, Land Captain, but not that good. Even with the lower risk of crashing into something, you may impact with Koleyna, killing both of you instantly."

"I could use... the goggles."

Ishmael was silent.

"I said, I could-"

"I know what you said," replied Ishmael sharply, "Do you know what you risk if you use the goggles?"

"I risk losing my mind. I know they allow my brain to directly interface with your body, Ishmael. I would become the brains of this car. There's a chance I might not come back, that my mind would be outweighed by yours, but you know what? There's a madwoman out there, heading towards a building filled with people. People with friends and families. People just trying to do their jobs. She plans on setting a bunch of freak-fish on those people, to tear them to shreds. She would come out of nowhere, without warning, and I doubt many of those people would survive. If I don't take this chance, those people will die. If I don't take this chance, you might die, too. I may be the Land Captain, but I'm still just a man, and what man can honestly say his life is worth more than the lives of a building filled with people? What man can say his life is worth more than that of his dearest friend? Not I, Ishmael. Not I."

"You might turn into a vegetable."

"Better a vegetable who tried to do the right thing than a man who stood by and did nothing."

"It's my decision," said Ishmael.

"Then make it," said Land Captain, "Make it quickly."

Ishmael knew his options: Go full speed after Koleyna and risk losing his mind, let Land Captain drive and risk losing his life, or let Land Captain use the goggles and risk losing Land Captain himself. Ishmael knew what Land Captain wanted, but it was his decision...

The poll finally started working, so that's a good thing.

007: The Alogrins

2008-05-11T15:01:00.002-04:00

Go to the laboratory: 8 votes
Look Professor Koleyna up in the phone book: 0 votes
Google Professor Koleyna: 5 votes

Land Captain continued drumming on the steering wheel. He adjusted the car's mirrors, and then stared out the window. Eventually, he came to a conclusion.

"You know..." he said.

"Yes?" replied Ishmael.

"The criminal always returns to the scene of the crime, so this professor should return to her laboratory. In fact, she probably thinks that since she took out Mister Charge, then we'll leave her alone," Land Captain said, starting the car, "Well, we'll show her a thing or two, won't we?"

Minutes later, the pair was back in front of the laboratory. Or, at least, where the laboratory had been. The building and all the fish were gone, with only a tiled floor to mark where it had once stood. Land Captain walked the perimeter, occasionally kicking to see if the building had simply turned invisible. This was not the case, and he went back to Ishmael to think.

"It seems to me that Charleston saw Professor Koleyna vanish herself away. Well, what if she could vanish the building away, too? Unless she's able to just sort of change time and space, something like that would leave a lot of residual energy," pondered Land Captain, "Ishmael, run a scan on the area. See if there's any sort of energy build-up. No idea what to look for, but I'm guessing it'll be pretty easy to spot."

"Aye aye, Captain," replied Ishmael, who started beeping. The headlights turned a shade of green, and their light scanned the area. A minute later, the beeping stopped, "You were correct, Land Captain. What's more is that I've the energy signature in my data banks. You probably won't believe this, but it's-"

"It's the Alogrins again, isn't it?"

"Aye aye, sir."

Land Captain sighed, "It's always those blasted Alogrins. It's always been them. You crash your car through their ship one time, and they never seem to let you forget it. I wonder what they want now. In any case, it'd be a step down from destroying the multiverse."

"Aye aye, captain. What course of action do you suggest?"

"Do you still have that doohickey that lets you follow energy signatures? The one we followed the Alogrins with during our last set of adventures? I figure we use that to find out where this building- and the professor, most likely- are."

"Affirmative. Keep your hands and feet inside during the transfer, unless you'd like to add a hook or peg leg to your motif."

Land Captain did so, and after he closed the door, Ishmael's hood ornament began to glow. The glow engulfed the car, and then a whirring noise filled the air. There was a flash, and both car and man were traveling down what appeared to be a stylized tunnel of light. Land Captain knew that this was just the car shielding him from the unspeakable horrors that dwelt in this space between worlds, and that were the shielding removed, he would most likely be reduced to a gibbering mess of a man. There was a dark spot at the end of this tunnel, and Land Captain knew that this was their destination. Ishmael stopped short of the dark spot, and hovered in the ether.

"What gives, Ishmael?"

"The Alogrins are on the other side, as well as a woman who has engineered demonic fish. Barging through may not be the best course of action, as they may be waiting for us."

"They were never waiting before," said Land Captain.

"We were chasing them before. As such, they were always trying to stay one step ahead of us. This time, whatever they're doing, they're not trying to get away from us."

"True," said Land Captain, "For all we know, this could be the Alogrin home world. I know not all of them are evil, but enough are that the chances of us arriving in a friendly area are pretty small to begin with. Since we're following a trail, the chances get a lot smaller."

"Any ideas, captain?"

"Well, we could barge in and show them a thing or two. Chances are they're just standing around doing nothing, right? Only thing is, that would give us away too early. We have a job to do, and we'll only get one chance at it. I know you've got a stealth mode, though, so we could probably activate that and sort of sneak our way in until we find some friendly natives." Land Captain drummed his hands on the steering wheel, and then added, "Only thing is, we don't know what we're getting into with this. We're pretty fast, though, so we could probably make the decision right after we go through the portal. It'd be risky, but I'm a superhero. My job is to take risks."

Land Captain mulled over his choices: Barge in, sneak in, or choose after he went through the portal?

006: Land Captain Sets a Course

2008-05-06T02:03:00.001-04:00

Land Captain sat in his car. He had gone to the R&D department, gotten the special skin-tight armor, and marched out to his car to the cheers of the TYRIS employees. Nearly all of them knew of the occupational hazards of working for TYRIS, yet they had a special place in their heart for those who willingly harmed their fellow employees. If a wendigo or something attacked you, well, that was to be expected. It was a wendigo, after all, you can't reason with them. However, when a person willingly did harm to an employee, then it was on. And so it was with a proud heart that Land Captain marched out the doors of TYRIS. He opened the door of his car, and he waved towards the building to the sound of one last cheer. Then he sat down, and put his head down on the steering wheel.

"I've really done it this time, Ishmael," said Land Captain, "Ol' Land Captain has really bitten off more than he could chew."

"You've battled aliens and super-villains across several universes. You have saved those universes several times. You should have no trouble with some genetically engineered fish monsters," replied Ishmael.

"No, it's not that. It's different this time," said Land Captain, picking his head up a little bit and then slamming it back down, "Those were just friendly battles. Nothing serious."

Both car and man were silent, and then Ishmael said, "What are you talking about?"

"You know. I've never had an archenemy."

"What about the aliens? You fought them consistently for several months."

"It's not the same. They were more of a casual combatant. A bunch of faceless drones and whatnot. Not one of them stood out in any way. I'm sort of hoping this professor woman is the one."

"The one what?"

"You know. My archenemy. She uses fish to fight her battles and she's some sort of witch. Some sort of fish witch, I suppose. I wonder what she'll want her name to be?"

"Aren't you jumping the gun? You've no idea if she'll even be an arch. For all you know, she could be sitting sadly in her laboratory and regretting her actions."

"I don't think so. Any woman who'd use fish for evil is... well... evil."

"Please don't get your hopes up, Land Captain."

Land Captain sat up straight, put his key in the ignition, and said, "Land Captain doesn't need to get his hopes up. He knows which way the wind is blowing!"

Ishmael was silent, and then attempted to sigh, "That doesn't even make sense. Where shall we head, Land Captain?"

"I suppose we should head to the lab, maybe."

"We could check the phone book to see if Professor Koleyna is listed anywhere."

Land Captain tapped his hands on the steering wheel. "We could also Google her. See what university she went to and talk to her professors. We could see where she's coming from."

Land Captain and Ishmael sat in silence. Ishmael knew that Land Captain was more of a fighter than a thinker, and was not very good at things like this. He turned himself off, and waited.

005: Attack of the Freak-Fish

2008-04-30T00:06:00.002-04:00

Fight the fish: 7 votes
Run from the lab: 2 votes
Call for help: 5 votes

If Charleston ran or called for help, the freak-fish would no doubt lunge at him and devour him. The only way he could potentially survive is to stand and fight. He adjusted the silver gloves he had put on earlier, and then ducked quickly, pulling a table in front of him. He needed all the help he could get. Unfortunately, his swift action seemed to have startled the freak-fish into attacking. They let out some sort of weird noise, sort of like a garbled shriek, and several of them hit the table. A lot more of them made their way over the table. Some broke their jaws on Charleston's special gloves, and he managed to take out quite a few of them. However, their numbers were too much. Soon, his clothes were in tatters and his body, while much more resistant than a normal human's, was bleeding. He opened his cell phone and speed dialed headquarters, but was too weak to say anything. He dropped the phone, and as he took what he thought was his last breath, he heard someone shout.

"Git off him, you bloody bastard fish! Git off him!"

It was too late for Charleston, however, and he fell into unconsciousness. The fish left him, however, and the man who saved him placed him on a table and tried to dress his many wounds.

An hour later, Land Captain arrived with another agent. He was a nebbish-looking man with thick, round glasses. The man who saved Charleston stood outside the lab, drinking a bottle of beer. He saw the two men, wiped the foam off his mustache, and stood up.

Land Captain was on the man instantly, pushing him against the wall and shouting, "Who are you and what happened to Mister Charge?"

"Name's Edgar. Edgar Koleyna. 'Fraid this is all my fault."

"How so?" asked the nebbish-looking man.

"I'd like to know who I'm speaking with before spilling my guts, sir," said Edgar.

"My name is Robin Banks, and this is the Land Captain. He has a strong sense of justice. Now, what happened and why is this all your fault?"

"I used to joke with my granddaughter, I did. I used to tell her that someday I was going to catch me a fish and teach it how to eat human flesh. When my grandkids would act up, I'd have 'em put one hand in, then the other hand in, and then they'd have no hand no more. I was just joking, honest, but then my granddaughter just got it into her mind to breed fish that could do just that," said Edgar, wiping away a tear.

Robin stared at him. "The both of you do know that there are fish that naturally eat human flesh, don't you?"

Edgar shrugged, "I guess she did. I did, too, it was just my way to joke like that. Never thought it'd see a man killed, which I guess answers the Land Captain's second question."

Land Captain let Edgar fall to the ground, and then he ran into the lab. He came out carrying Charleston's bloody body.

"He's still alive, but barely," said Land Captain, "We need to get him to a hospital."

"Screw the hospital," said Robin, "We need to get him to TYRIS."

Land Captain nodded, "We'll put Charleston in the trunk. It's special. He'll be safe there."

Robin nodded. Land Captain put Charleston in the trunk, and then the trio sped towards the nearest TYRIS office. When they arrived there was a gurney waiting for them. They moved Charleston from the trunk to the gurney, and then went into the building to meet with the head of the office. Land Captain, Robin, and the office head listened to Charleston's tape recorder.

"What should be done about this, sir?" asked Robin.

"While we do not frown upon mad science and its actions in general, when it is used against one of our agents we must take action! Liana Koleyna must be apprehended and her experiments destroyed."

Land Captain coughed politely.

"Yes?"

"I would like to volunteer for that job, sir. She's a super-villain, basically, and I'm a super-hero," said Land Captain.

"Your enthusiasm is noted and appreciated, but this woman has a very dangerous fish at her disposal," said the office head.

"Well, I'm the Land Captain. I think I could probably take on some fish, with the right gear," said Land Captain.

"Very well. Report to our research and development department. You'll be outfitted so that you can take this witch in."

Land Captain saluted, and marched out. Robin and the office head watched him leave, and then Robin said, "How much of a chance does Charleston have?"

"He should live. The man would have probably healed eventually if we dropped him in the woods somewhere. With our help, he should be back on his feet within the month. At least, one foot. His left leg was torn up quite badly, and may never be the same even with out help."

Robin nodded, "That's good to know. He's one of our top agents."

"Indeed he is," said the office head, "I just hope that Land Captain can bring in the witch that did this to him."

-

Should we join Land Captain as he goes to fight Professor Koleyna, or watch Robin Banks as he does BUREAUCRACY?

004: Stamp... stamp... stamp...

2008-04-27T00:00:00.003-04:00

Call in a specialist: 2 votes
Sneak into the lab: 7 votes
Make amends: 6 votes
Follow the path into the woods: 0 votes
Follow the stream: 0 votes

Charleston's thirst for knowledge was great. Specifically, the knowledge of what lay within the lab. The two most prudent paths for him would be to apologize to Professor Koleyna, or wait for her to leave the lab and sneak into it. He thought about both scenarios for a bit. Truth be told, Charleston was only a man of words as long as it related to insurance. He also had a way with women, a way which usually left him injured in some way. The only woman he had ever dated was bitten by a vampire and was currently a member of the vampire's cult, and it was pretty much Charleston's fault this happened. Therefore, the course of action was clear: he would wait until Koleyna left the lab, and sneak in. All he had to do was wait...

An hour later, he was still waiting when Land Captain returned with Charleston's new boots. Charleston was sure Land Captain's arrival had made Koleyna stay inside the lab, just to be spiteful. Grumbling, Charleston put on his new boots while Land Captain rambled on about how he had thwarted an alien abduction attempt on the way there. Then, an idea struck him. It was a terrible idea, but it just might work.

"Well, I guess the frog is not going to show up today!" shouted Charleston, towards the lab, "I might as well leave, gee golly gee whiz!"

Land Captain was befuddled, "Are you all right, Mister Charge?"

"Just play along!" whispered Charleston, who then raised his voice, "Yep, just a false alarm I guess!"

Land Captain touched the brim of his hat, and then got into the car. Charleston got into the back, vainly trying to see if Koleyna was watching. He could not see, and soon they were off. A minute or so later, Charleston had Land Captain stop the car.

"I'll call you when I'm done here, Land Captain," said Charleston.

"What are you going to do," asked Land Captain.

"Make my way back to the lab through the woods. I figure that if Koleyna doesn't see me, then she'll be willing to leave the lab for a bit."

"You're a clever one."

"Not really. It's one of the oldest tricks there is," said Charleston, getting out of the car. He watched Land Captain drive off, and then began walking down the road, his long coat flapping in the wind. He held onto his hat - something resembling a fedora, but not quite a fedora - and looked up at the sky. It was turning gray. Charleston groaned, and trekked on. Then, he realized something: Land Captain's car could go fast. Quite fast, and in quite a short time. Therefore, he had no idea how far away he was from the lab.

Then the rain came. The drops came down like tiny little daggers, stabbing at Charleston's face and wetting down his hair. Drops dripped down his back. He put up his color and scrunched his shoulders in an attempt to stave off the wetness. He buttoned up his coat so that the things he put in its inner pockets wouldn't get wet, and he stamped down the now muddy road. By now, it was more swamp than road. As he stamped, he thought he heard something else stamping. He stopped, and listened:

Stamp... stamp... stamp... stamp...

It was coming up the road, whatever it was. Panic and curiosity rose up within Charleston, and he knew he had few options...

The stamping was too close. He had to make a choice now, and he had no time to think. He dashed off the road, hid behind a tree, took out his tape recorder, and waited.

Stamp... stamp... stamp...

Charleston watched as a giant non-anthropomorphic frog hopped down the road towards his hiding place. He clicked on his tape recorder, and began whispering.

"I have visual confirmation of the rumored giant frog. It is non-anthropomorphic, about as big as a Buick, I think, and it appears to be relatively healthy..."

Stamp... stamp... stamp...

"Each hop takes it, oh, maybe ten yards? It doesn't appear to be trying, though. I'm guessing it could take a much larger jump if it actually tried. I wonder if I could ride it..."

Stamp... stamp... stamp.

"The giant frog has stopped right in front of me. It's not looking at my hiding place, it's just sort of... sitting there. Like it can sense me or something? Do frogs have some sort of... froggy-sense? Could be worth looking into."

There was a flash of lightning and the roar of thunder. The frog let out a monstrous croak, quickly turned around, and let loose with a mighty jump. Charleston ran out from behind the tree.

"I can still see it, and I'd say it jumped around seventy yards, give or take. Ah, wait, I know..." said Charleston, pulling a gadget out of his pocket, "I'll use the digital tape measure."

He wedged a small spike into the back-most part of the frog's footprints, and then stopped. The frog was still sitting there. Charleston shrugged, and then ran towards it. When he got closer, he shouted gibberish at it, and the frog jumped again. Charleston knelt down where the frog had sat.

"The giant frog was scared of me. Curious, but I guess that means it's not a natural giant. Perhaps some sort of mutation. Or maybe it's just a coward. In any case..." Charleston held the digital tape measure at the back-most part of the newly vacated frog prints. It read 74.6 yards. "The frog jumped about seventy-five yards."

There was another flash of lightning, roll of thunder, and monstrous croak. Charleston clicked on his tape recorder as the croak echoed through the woods and said, "That was the frog." He put away the digital tape measure and tape recorder, and then began trekking after the frog. If he was lucky, he might be able to catch it. If not, then at least he was keeping busy.

Half an hour later, Charleston saw the lab in the distance. At this point, he could not do much sneaking since he was sopping wet, but he intended to try to sneak into the lab regardless. He walked into the woods, sighed as his feet sank a little into the mud, and made his way towards the lab. As he walked, the mud sucked at his boots. When he was close to the lab, he stopped and realized that there was no way he could figure out if Koleyna had left or not, since the lab had no windows. He did hear the distinctive noise of rain bouncing off a tarp, and this did little for his mood. He had intended to sneak into the lab through the hole in the roof, and the tarp would make things very difficult. Coupled with the rain, the task would be nearly impossible without any sort of gear. Charleston pulled out his tape recorder, said, "Note to self: always bring climbing equipment" and put the recorder back into his pocket.

After pondering what to do, Charleston picked up a rock and hurled it at the door. He did this with several rocks, and eventually Professor Koleyna opened the door. Charleston tossed more rocks away from the lab, and Koleyna closed the door. Charleston sighed deeply, but then Koleyna opened the door again and left the lab. She looked around, then placed her palms against each other and closed her eyes. A flash of light erupted from the ground, and she was gone. Charleston dashed for the door, and once he was safely inside he took out his tape recorder and said, "Fish doctor is not what she seems." Then he walked over to the table with the notebook on it, and was rather shocked to see that the notebook was no longer there.

"How dare she take measures against my snooping!" said Charleston to a curious carp.

This gave Charleston some pause. If she had taken preventative measures against his snooping, why was the door unlocked? No doubt she would have done that first, if she wanted her activities to remain a secret. Only then did he realize that he could no longer hear the rain on the tarp, and that the part of the lab that was under the hole in the roof was becoming drenched. This was troublesome, and Charleston turned towards the door only to see the notebook taped to it. He quickly pulled it off the door, and flipped back a few pages.

Charleston read the page several times, finally exclaiming, "A freaking tree put a hole in the roof? Seriously? A tree? I went through all that trouble just to find out the hole in the roof was an act of nature?"

He flipped forward through the notebook, and read the last page:

"Dear Mister Charge,

You should really have known better. No means no, especially when it comes to insurance. Your curiosity is an attractive trait, but as they say, curiosity killed the cat. Here are some other tidbits to satisfy your curiosity: I have dabbled in mad science. My efforts have produced a fish combining the ability to survive outside of water of a mudskipper, the mouths of a piranha, the ferocity of a barracuda, the mobility of a flying fish, and the ability to cling of a clingfish. They also have heightened intelligence and a sort of hive-mind. I hope you have fun with them.

Sincerely yours,
Professor Liana Koleyna."

In the darkness in the corner of the lab, Charleston finally noticed the light glinting off hundreds of shiny teeth. This was going to be painful, and he had few options. He could probably take out a few fish, but there were several dozen of them and only one of him. He could also run from the lab, but that would only be a temporary measure with the hole in the roof. The final thing he could do was call for assistance. At least, the final thing he was willing to do. What was worse is that he had only moments to think of a solution...

003: Professor Liana Koleyna

2008-04-23T01:00:00.000-04:00

Investigate the building: 15 votes
Follow the stream: 7 votes
Go into the woods: 2 votes

Charleston knew a good field agent would follow the stream. After all, a giant frog would inevitably live close to the water. Then again, it may have been a wood frog or possibly a giant toad. Charleston wasn't too sure, but believed toads and wood frogs lived in the woods. Therefore, it would be prudent to follow the forest path.

Then he realized he was wearing his nice shoes. Well, then, there was no way he was going to blindly traipse through the woods in his nice shoes. He looked over at Land Captain.

"Hey, Land Captain," said Charleston, pulling out his wallet, "If I give you some money, can you go get me a pair of boots? I think I'll need them."

Land Captain took the money, fired off a salute, and said, "What size?"

"Eleven and a half or twelve. Thanks."

With that, Land Captain sped off. Charleston reevaluated his options. The woods and stream were out. That left the damaged building. He took a pair of silver gloves out of his pocket and put them on, and then walked over to the building. He knocked on the door, just in case, and then opened it.

Inside the building was a laboratory which would have been quite clean if not for the section of roof that had fallen in on it. The three walls that remained standing were covered in aquariums, and each aquarium had a single fish inside. The one closest to Charleston had a goldfish in it, except its coloring was exceptionally metallic. In fact, the sunlight glinted off all the fish in bizarre ways. Charleston took out a tape recorder and mentioned this. He put away the tape recorder and walked over to one of the lab's tables and began paging through a notebook. He went to the latest entry, and then took out the tape recorder again.

"Latest entry is dated yesterday. It's an inventory of experiments lost due to some catastrophe. Possibly the giant frog? Maybe one of the previous entries will shed some light on this..."

Charleston was about to turn the page when someone grabbed his wrist and coughed indignantly. He followed the hand's arm to a chest, and then quickly averted his eyes.

"Sorry, ma'am. I had no idea you were female." He hoped the woman didn't notice he was blushing.

"Who the hell are you and what the hell are you doing in my lab?" said the woman, still holding onto Charleston's wrist.

"Your lab? One second," said Charleston, pulling out his tape recorder with his free hand, "Damaged lab belongs to... what's your name?"

She glared at him for a moment, and then said, "Liana Koleyna."

"Belongs to Liana Koleyna. Miss-"

"Professor."

"Professor Koleyna, my name is Charleston Charge. I have come here on behalf of the TYRIS Group due to reports of an abnormally large amphibian. He quite possibly sits on a log in the swamp playing the banjo while singing about rainbow connections."

She gasped, and said, "A giant frog?"

"A giant frog. Do you have any information?"

"I'm just an ichthyologist, Mister Charge. I'm working on a way to make fish more resilient in order to withstand water pollution."

"I see. I won't bother you about the practical aspects of such an endeavor, but I will ask you this: would you like to buy some insurance? We offer a special rate for mad scientists. Since you're already a scientist, you could perhaps work on making some sort of composite fish to gain the 'mad' label."

She glared at him again, and then asked, "Would it cover the damage to my roof?"

"Well, no, since it's already damaged. If it's damaged again, however, we would be able to offer full coverage if the damage is a result of mad science. If you want additional protection, say, against a giant frog, you'd have to buy additional policies."

"I'm sorry, but I'm not interested. I think you should leave, Mister Charge," she said, dragging him out the door. Once he was outside, she slammed the door.

Charleston shrugged, straightened his tie, and said, "She refused to elaborate on the giant frog. Also, no further clues as to why the roof is damaged. I am going to investigate."

He walked over the building and noticed a distinct lack of windows. There were also no tracks on the ground. No tire tracks, no frog tracks, no tracks of any kind. Furthermore, from this angle, it looked like the roof had simply caved in. Then again, he was no forensics specialist. He could call one in, though. He filed this away in a mental databank.

Another thing he had noticed in the lab was the distinct lack of a refrigerator or any sort of cooking apparatus. Koleyna had to eat, and perhaps he could sneak into the lab while she was gone. Yes, it was a bit unethical, but if it helped him get to the bottom of this, then it would be worth it. Then again, he could just try to make amends with Koleyna and get his information that way. Barring that, he could always just wait for Land Captain and follow the path into the woods or the stream. One thing was certain: he would not yet give up. If he gave up, there was a good chance he would get fired.

Charleston walked over to a large rock and sat down and began to think.

The Last Metapost

2008-04-22T00:35:00.003-04:00

Two things:
1) I've noticed that there's a lot of voting the first three days that the story is up, then like no voting at all. So we're going to try a new update schedule. New bits of story will go up on Sundays and Wednesdays.

2) In order to stifle superfluous metaposts, any new news will go up on the Choose Your Own Blogventure Message Board. So keep an eye out, I guess.

002: The Land Captain

2008-04-15T21:07:00.003-04:00

Fifteen minutes later, after eating some delicious waffles, Charleston had come to a decision. He was not really in the mood to deal with things he might not be able to see, and might not even be there. This ruled out everything but the giant frog, and seriously, how much of a problem could a giant frog be? He should be there and back before dinner. He pulled out his phone and called up the Dispatcher.

"Is the giant frog assignment still available?" he asked.

There was some static, then an obviously disguised voice said, "Indeed it is, Mister Charge. The car has already been sent to take you to your destination. Have a nice day, Mister Charge."

The phone clicked, and Charleston went outside to find a man dressed like a captain standing by a Buick. The Buick's back door was open and the captain was grinning like a madman.

"Are you the driver the company sent?" asked Charleston. Several times in the past, he had been kidnapped by various opponents to his company. He found it paid to ask these kinds of questions, because at the very least it gave you plausible deniability.

"I sure am, Mister Charge," said the driver, "You can just go ahead and call me Land Captain."

Charleston raised an eyebrow, "Land Captain?"

"I'm a superhero. I generally fight aliens. I've saved the universe a few times, you know. Me and Ishmael, here."

"You named your car Ishmael?"

"Sure did. We can chat more in the car, but we'd better get going."

Charleston nodded and got into the car, and the Land Captain got into the driver's seat. He pulled some switches, turned the key, and they were on their way.

"Do you know the way there, Land Captain?" asked Charleston, fighting the urge to doze off.

"Nope, but Ishmael does," said Land Captain, "He's pretty smart as far as cars go."

Charleston knew he would have to keep an eye on this Land Captain. He seemed to be insane, but the Company wouldn't send a madman to drive him, would they? He was about to pass a comment about the unlikeliness of a superhero working as a driver when he realized that the car was going a wee bit too fast. The world outside was little more than a blur.

"Land Captain! How fast are we going?"

"Fast as we can, sir! Speed is of the essence, and ol' Ishmael here can go pretty darn fast. Don't worry, though, we won't run into anything and no one will see us. Like I said, Ishmael is a special sort of car."

Charleston nodded, then quickly buckled his safety belt and tried to dig his nails into the car's seat. He closed his eyes and prayed they'd be there before...

The car stopped.

Oh thank whatever gods there were, the car stopped.

"We're here, Mister Charge!" said Land Captain with a smile, then he chuckled, "Don't worry, I've been assigned as your personal driver. You'll get used to ol' Ishmael eventually."

All the blood drained from Charleston's face. He had faced down demons and hydras in the past with a knowing smirk, but this car was something altogether different. There was something unearthly about it, and Charleston decided he would some day find out what it was.

"Ah, before I forget," said Land Captain, reaching into his pocket, "When you're done, or when you need a ride, just give me call." He handed a card to Charleston, who took it and shoved it into his pocket.

"Thanks a million. I'll be sure to do that."

Charleston had barely gotten out of the car when it zoomed away. He let out a sigh of relief, and then looked around. He was surrounded by woods. There was a damaged building nearby, and it was built by a stream. Off to his left there was a path leading into the woods, away from both the stream and the building.

He wondered if he should investigate the building, follow the stream, or go into the woods...

001: The Assignments

2008-04-08T19:48:00.001-04:00

Today felt special, Charleston had to admit. He had no idea why this was so, but there was just something that made it unique. He'd have to be a bit more careful today, then, since the last time he felt odd some goblin creature tried to gnaw off his leg. In any case, it was time to find out what he had to deal with today. He logged onto his company's website and followed the arcane hints to the current assignments page. He allowed his mind to wander for a second as he recalled the story behind the hints.

Long ago, his branch of the company had a fellow called the Dispatcher. In the days before computers, he ruled over the mail room and sent up messages most urgent to the various insurance agents. He had a bit of a knack for knowing which agent was best suited to which job. As the technology improved and the Dispatcher grew older (and he was quite old to begin with), he learned all the skills he needed to keep his job. Once the company started allowing employees to log in from home, he began making sure only employees and the exceptionally sharp could make it into the system by instituting the hints. It was a good system, and it kept out the riff-raff. Unfortunately, no one had seen the Dispatcher for several years, and it was widely believed that he had either come up with an advanced artificial intelligence to handle the chores of dispatch, or that his soul had entered cyberspace and haunted the company's web site. Charleston had very few thoughts on the matter, and was simply glad the system worked. A bit too well, however, as he had four assignments waiting for him.

There were two kinds of assignments, really: the appointments and the ones where they just arrived. The first assignment was one of the latter: a man had recently purchased a house that was somewhat deep in the forest. There were reports of him walking in his sleep and trying to pry the iron grate off an abandoned well, and the whole thing reeked of some sort of possession. Charleston groaned, because you never knew who was doing the possessing. He jotted down "Possessed Somnambulist Homeowner" into his notebook.

The second assignment was from a rural area, and unsurprisingly, had to do with crop circles and mutilated cows. Apparently, there were also unconfirmed reports of UFO activity. The smart money pointed to aliens, and so Charleston wrote down "Clichéd Aliens" in his notebook.

The third assignment was a cryptozoological thing, with rumors of some sort of giant bipedal frog mucking about. Charleston wrote down "Giant Frog" and wondered why the heck anyone would need insurance against a giant frog. Perhaps the area had some insect farms or something.

The final assignment was actually requested by the potential customer. She was sure her house was haunted, though she could be just paranoid. Charleston recalled that seventy-five percent of last year's appointments ended up being false alarms. Which is not to say that they weren't fruitful: people prone to calling up the company were also prone to buying insurance. After pondering this for a moment, Charleston wrote "Potential Haunting" in his notebook.

Charleston logged off and closed his computer, pondering over which assignment to take...

Charleston Charge and the Company

2008-04-07T19:20:00.001-04:00

The man's name is Charleston Charge, and he's an insurance salesman. Well, that's not entirely accurate. While he does sell insurance, he also does some claim adjustment. The main thing he does, though, is special jobs his employer needs done. Not anything illegal, mind you. The guy's as straight-laced as his job allows. It's just that the insurance he sells is no ordinary insurance, and sometimes a bit of a special touch is needed to make sure things go right.

The company he works for is Tahmores, Yair, and Ruggiero Insurance and Security Incorporated, commonly abbreviated to TYRIS Inc. It was founded by Rudolf Tahmores, Anthony Yair, and Theodore Ruggiero in 1871 in South Carolina. TYRIS began by offering insurance against the various supernatural elements that had begun to haunt plantations but soon branched out into selling insurance against any sort of supernatural, occult, cryptozoological, extraterrestrial, and just plain weird phenomenon. If you're the sort of person whose house is infested by the damned souls of a million angry orphans, you call the company.

Charleston's branch (a company like TYRIS is a global operation, after all) consists of himself, several other go-to guys, and several specialists. This is not to say that Charleston is too shabby at protecting himself. He's able to deal and take more punishment than any mortal man should, but he doesn't like telling that story much. The dispatcher for his company, who lets people know where they might be needed, and where they've been asked to come. If they come uninvited, though, you'd best listen to them: they know what they're doing.

What This is About (FAQ)

2008-04-04T18:43:00.001-04:00

Welcome to "Choose Your Own Blogventure". Here I'll be answering some questions about what, exactly, this is.

1) What is "Choose Your Own Blogventure"?

You may be familiar with the "Choose Your Own Adventure" books, where you would be thrust into an unlikely situation and be forced to work your ways around myriad paths until either coming to a gruesome end or coming out on top. Well, this is kind of like that but not quite. It's more like the Super Mario CYOA books, in which you would decide where Mario went and he would eventually come to a gruesome end or come out on top. It's not even like that, though. This is how things will be done:

-I will post part of a story. At the end of the part, you'll get several paths for the main character to follow.
-You will vote on which path you want the main character to follow. All three options will have something pre-written for them.
-The main character will do what you want him to.
-Repeat

2) What if the main guy dies during the course of this?

I guess we'll have to dredge up a new one, then.

3) How long will each story be?

It's one never-ending story, but each plotline will take several months. I plan on updating this weekly, so we'll see how all this goes.

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If you already have a blog with the name "Choose Your Own Blogventure" (which is quite likely, but I'm too lazy to look) then let me know and I'll change this blog's name.