Tales of the Parodyverse

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L!
Sun Oct 15, 2006 at 12:53:16 am EDT
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Playing Catch up
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Playing Catch Up


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Goth Haven.
Whispering Pines Apartment Building.
3rd Floor.
Apartment 3a.

Laura Smith is wrapped in a blanket she got from a woman back in Wakandybar. Laura was laying on the couch & is watching TV. This has been her life for the last few weeks. She hasn't really left this apartment since the day he left. She lives across the hallway, her apartment is more nicely furnished (in part to being the daughter of a some what famous Wakandybarian Scientist) but she just feels safer in Ben's apartment.

Laura has been monitoring the news, via Ben's crappy thrift store TV & via her laptop. She monitors for mentions of her homeland (still missing), Ben or his group (last she heard they we're near the US/Canadian border for some reason), The FMRC (they have been too quite for some reason) & about the world at large. There have been decisions made that she didn't think were right but she still stands by her home away from home country.

Laura sends off another E-Mail & like all the rest they come back undeliverable. "Dad, where are you?" she mumbles out loud.

Just then the top news story for the hour comes on: Goth Haven's very own super heroes (or what's left of them) are being released from jail. The station she was watching (KYRO) along with every other major local News stations has at least one camera down at the Goth Haven Central Police Department's main lobby for the Mayor J. Thomas Macklinberg's press conference.

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"On behalf of the City of Goth Haven: We're sorry. We should have know that you were being controlled some how." The Mayor said to Jet Starscream in front of various TV Cameras' & Photographers. The two men were both decked out in their finest suits. Macklinberg in Armani, Starscream in St. Sylvain.

"Sure, no problem." Jet said, with a cheesy grin, as he shook the mayor's hand. Jet squeezed a little hard then he normally would have.

Standing off to one side, near the back of the crowd were Janet Marrow & Dr. Jack Austen, the people behind two of Jet's former Teammates: Inter-Planet Janet & The Golden Guardian. Both of them were dressed like everyday people. Jack was wearing a white dress shirt, a black pair of slacks & a matching suit jacket. Janet was wearing a modest red blouse & a knee length black dress. They were in jail with Jet, too. But, seeing as they aren't as newsworthy as he was they weren't getting an televised apology. They weren't even going to get an apology period.

"How much do you want to bet me that Jet wants to punch the Mayor's face in right now?" Jack whispered into Janet's ear as they stood their smiling & clapping along with the rest of the crowd.

"I don't think their is enough money in the world to cover that bet." Janet replied.

The fourth remaining member of their group, Oliver Templar, the nocturnal detective known as Nite-Owl, watched the proceedings from a darkened corner in the Station's Lobby. Like Jack & Janet, he isn't newsworthy but he likes it that way.

Out the corner of Janet's eye, she thought she saw familiar red & yellow blur. Janet turned in that direction & whispered "Shawn?"

Jack heard her say something & turn his attention away from the conference. "What?"

"It's probably nothing but I think I just Shawn out the corner of my eye." Janet said as she looked around for their former teammate.

"Ok. It would make sense that He'd return around now. The Team has been cleared of all wrong doing. So, he must of heard is slowly down to resume his life."

"Yes, that's probably the reason. But, what if Shawn can't slow down?"

Jack was about to reply, but stopped & thought Janet's comment over a bit.

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Back at Ben's apartment, Laura mumbled out to no one but herself "Where are you Ben?"

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Alaska.
The Kloshee Ilahee Fishing Village, a few hours drive from Anchorage.

Ben Hermes was asleep but that doesn't last long. He is awakened by a sound: the sound of scratching on canvas. Ben's eyes opened after a few minutes & then slightly pissed says "What?" He wanted to sleep, they had a long night.

"Wake up. We've got training in 40. There's breakfast if you want it" came a voice from outside Ben's home away from home. The Voice belonged to James Milton, the super hero in training known as Billy Goat. But, is Ben's experience he should call himself Billy Ass.

As James laughed as he walked away, Ben groaned as got out of his sleeping bag. He got dressed up in the Uniform the organization he used to belong to gave him. He also put on his parka as he exited his tent & stepped into the cold crisp morning. Ben stretched, he'll be glad when training is over so he doesn't have to live in a Tent & can go back to life in Goth Haven.

He trudged over the cold frosty ground over to the cooking shelter, the gang was all there. Well, most of the gang was. Dreama Garner, one of the team's resident mystics', had gone AWOL a few weeks before they left the East Coast. They had lost contact with The Amazing Rando, the other mystic on the team, since communications in between dimension. It had been cut do to some fancy space science that Ben didn't understand & decided to tune out when it was explained to him. The last member of this rag tag bunch of misfits, Morty Jones, choose not to come. He was fine working with Mama Sarah & the wilderness of Alaska is not the most Wheelchair accessible.

Once Ben was close, he asked "What's for Breakfast?"

"Well, we've got your choice of Pancakes or Waffles & your choice of syrup. You'll need to heat up a bit, it does tend to congeal in the container out here. We also have some French toast, a couple types of eggs, your choice of meat: bacon, sausage and/or ham. We also have three types of juice: Orange, Apple & Grape." Clayton Greenhawk said cheerily. Mr. Greenhawk is a friend of Mr. Summers. And as of late he is also the group's weapon trainer/cook. The AWOL members of C-Class are staying on his acreage.

Ben got what he wanted for food & sat down on one of the logs around the camp fire. It was warm & tasted so good. Ben savored ever bite.

As he did, another trainer came out of the brushes. He was an athletic looking man, that helped betray what age he really was. He wore dark grey slacks, a pitch black turtle neck. Ben was always amazed that he never wore a wintercoat. Mr. Torrie said he didn't need one. His face & hands showed some signs of aging but not much, again betraying his age. His grey hair was cut in a crewcut fashion. On his back was a gun metal grey circular shield. He was Victor Torrie, the group's hand-to-hand fighting trainer. Ben doesn't like him, he pushes him to hard & he calls him Benny.

"Greetings." Mr. Torrie said.

There were scattered greetings.

"No. I said Greetings!" Mr. Torrie corrected. Everyone replied back this time, even Mr. Greenhawk.

"It's good to see your all dressed for combat. I trust Mr. Milton has informed you all about today's activities."

He didn't get a real positive reply. He half expected that.

"Well, we'll start off with an hour or so of exercise to get the heart pumping. Then, on to a some martial arts training. Rounding out the morning with some hand to hand training. Then, some food & you'll be spending the afternoon with Clayton & Gordon."

Ben still hadn't gotten use to people calling Mr. Summers' by his first name. It was always either "Mr. Summers" or "Matthew", but never "Gordon".

"Well, I'll see you over by my campsite in.." Mr. Torrie paused to check his wristwatch "20."

There were scattered replies.

"Good." Torrie said & walked off.

As Ben ate his bacon, he wondered when they could go home. He also wondered what was happening out in the world. Mr. Torrie and Ben guess Mr. Summers agreed with him that they would not getting from the outside world. It apparently clogged up the mind.

This fact didn't stop Mr. Summers from taking Clayton's beat up old Chevy pick-up truck to the nearest store to get the newspaper. With what he's piece together he's glad he took his kids out of that environment that was brewing up in Parrodipolis. But, he near that it would quickly reach Alaska & that his kids needed more training much to their dismay. First he needed Vic to beat the false training he was forced to give to them by the FMRC & then they could start a new.

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The Parrodipolis Office of The Federal Meta-Human Resource Center.
Ruben Holcomb's Office.

"Jane, can you get Miss Waltz on the line." The Acting head of the FMRC said into his intercom.

"Which, sir? The Legionnaire or the Geneticist?"

"The latter."

"Yes, Mr. Holcomb."

Ruben went back to looking over the confiscated files he got from the Government's secret vaults.

"That Zemo was a tricky old bugger. I never would of thought to look there."

Holcomb smiled an evil smile.

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TO BE CONTINUED



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