RKMBs Forums .::Important::. Writer's Block Tales of the New MBL

This thread is meant to present short stories or scenes that don't really fit within the main plot of the New MBL, and aren't really worth putting into a thread on its own. I'm writing some of these, but others are welcome to do so as well. This would be the ideal place for things such as long introductions to new members that would detract from the main story somehow, or "interlude"-like scenes that would likewise detract from the main plot.

The only rules are:

1. Must feature a New MBL character, whether a member or another character that interacts somehow with the New MBL.

2. Must be contained in one post, so it shouldn't be too long, and it should be able to be read on its own.

I'm planning on posting some short stories featuring some underused New MBLers, some supporting characters like Chief Danner, and some antagonists such as General Forrest and the like. Euro, Gooz, or anyone else interested in the New MBL, feel free to add your own.

This is Chewy's character introduction of Audrey from issue #1. Chewy wrote it, I just edited it:



Audrey

A cork popped as the foam came spewing forth from the top of the bottle. A short, balding man in a long white lab coat smiled widely, bringing the bottle down to two flutes sitting on the stainless steel tabletop and filling them with sparkling champagne.

“Well, Charles,” he said, “we’ve finally done it!”

“Indeed,” Charles said as he ran his hand through his goatee while admiring the rather large bulb growing in a terrarium across the lab. “I never thought you and I would be able to collaborate on a project, Walter, what with your work in botany and mine in human genetics, but look at it!”

Charles gestured over to the bulb he’d been admiring. Walter followed his gaze, his grin widening in giddy anticipation. The bulb in the terrarium was indeed beautiful. The pinkish hue of the petals softened a bit toward the base as it faded into a deep indigo. Large indigo speckles decorated the exterior of the would-be flower, adding, Charles and Walter thought, both character and dimension. This plant, doubtless, was their finest creation.

“To us,” Walter said, handing a flute to his cohort. “And... to him!” The shorter man indicated the terrarium.

“Or her,” Charles said, taking his flute gingerly by the stem.

Walter laughed. “Of course, of course... her!” The two men laughed, clinking their champagne glasses together.

For the next few hours, they talked excitedly, sipping champagne and reliving the process of the creation of such an extraordinary organism. As the time passed, neither man seemed to notice when the bulb in the terrarium began to twitch.

“—still amazed at how you were able to amalgamate the DNA like that. Truly, Charles, you are an artist of all things subcellular!”

Charles laughed gratefully. “Not hardly as much as you, cataloguing the various flora needed to augment the process! Your organizational skills are second to—”

His words were cut short as he seemed to see something out of the corner of his eye. Slowly, he turned.

“What is it, Charles?” Walter asked, following his co-worker’s gaze toward the terrarium.

There, behind the glass, the bulb had opened, revealing perhaps the most gloriously beautiful flower either man would have ever seen. Too bad, however, that they were not looking at the flower, but rather at the naked form of a young green-skinned girl standing in the middle of it.

“Sh-she’s... perfect,” Walter breathed, gazing at the girl.

“Indeed,” Charles said, setting down his champagne flute. “It’s female. You owe me twenty dollars.” Charles had thought it was easy money, especially since he had encoded her DNA to be female, but Walter didn’t know that, and Charles thought it unnecessary to tell him.

The two men were in awe of the creature before them—their creature. She stood, her green skin glinting underneath the terrarium’s sunlamps. Her hair was the color of golden wheat, stretching down most of her back. Her eyes were large and frightened as she stared out at the two men before her.

“Magnificent,” Walter cooed, taking another sip of his champagne.

“Indeed,” Charles said, walking up to a small intercom box on the side of the terrarium window. “Hello,” he said after pushing the button.

The woman backed away a bit, her eyes widening in greater fear. A startled scream erupted from her mouth. Then, as though amazed that she could make such a noise, she made it again, alternately covering her hands to her mouth and making the noise.

Charles smiled and turned to Walter. “She’s just like a child.”

Turning back to the window, Charles addressed the girl. “Hello, my dear.” Forgetting her ability to make noise, she backed away again. “No, no, don’t be frightened. My name is Charles. This is my co-worker, Walter. We... well, we created you.”

Her wide eyes darted from Charles to Walter and back again, as though attempting to understand what they were saying. Charles decided to simplify.

“Charles,” he said, pointing to himself emphatically. “Char-les.”

“Char-les,” the woman said slowly, smiling wildly after she had done so, clapping her hands, and then becoming amazed with that.

“Her rate of learning is astounding,” Walter said, nearing the glass. “She’s only been out of her cocoon for a few minutes, and already she can say, ‘da-da’!”

“Indeed,” Charles said. “Now, let’s see if she can say ‘ma-ma,’ eh?”

Walter rolled his eyes, then turned back to the terrarium. Swallowing the last of the champagne, he began patting his chest with his palms. “Walter!” he practically screamed. “Walter! Wal-ter!”

“Good Lord, Walter, she’s simple, not deaf!” Charles said, rolling his eyes.

The girl pointed in Walter’s direction and said, slowly, “Wal... ter?”

“Splendid!” Walter said, jumping about, obviously affected both by the champagne and the excitement of this new creation. “This is magnificent! What shall we call her, then, Charles?”

Charles ran his hand through his goatee, pondering that very question. “Audrey,” he said finally. “Her name is Audrey.”

Walter laughed. “Wonderful!” Then, he began pointing back at the woman crouched in the corner. “Audrey!” he said, pointing wildly. “Aud-rey!”

“Aud-rey,” came her reply, placing a hand softly on her chest. “Aud-rey.”

“I think she’s got it, Charles!” Walter said giddily.

“Indeed.”

Slowly, then, and without warning, the young girl rose and began to walk toward them. However, she did not seem to understand the concept of glass and ran headlong into the pane that separated her from the doctors.

The two men laughed heartily, Walter being almost doubled over, holding his sides.

The woman’s brow furrowed in anger, and she began to pound on the glass with her fists. This only prompted Charles and Walter to laugh harder.

Then, almost imperceptibly, something happened. The plants that lined the window of the terrarium also began to sway against the glass. Slowly, the plants in the lab itself began to sway in the direction of the glass as well. Walter’s collection of hanging ivy began to snake its way along the floor, creeping up the window.

Suddenly, a crack sounded in the glass. Everything stopped. The young woman looked curiously at the slight fissure in the window, then at her fist, then back at the crack. Smiling widely, she began pounding even more furiously on the glass. The crack began to widen, spreading slowly across the length of the window.

“What is she doing?” Walter gasped, having been jerked out of his laughing fit.

“Sh-she’s attempting to escape!” came Charles’ reply. “But, she can’t! She’s not ready!”

Quickly, both men attempted to race to the other side of the room, only to trip on the assemblage of ivy laying at their feet. Now, sprawled on the floor, both men were surprised to feel the ivy begin to creep around their legs, arms, and torsos.

“Wh-what is this?” Charles asked.

“The plants!” cried Walter. “Sh-she must be controlling them somehow!”

Soon, however, the men were completely bound by yards upon yards of tangling ivy. The entire floor of the laboratory was covered in green vines and leaves, making it look every bit as much like a rainforest as a lab.

Then there was the sound of shattering glass.

Slowly, the woman who had just been named Audrey stepped slowly out and onto the floor of the lab, looking around curiously. As she walked, the ivy began to cover up her feet, protecting them from the glass. As she walked over the leaves, they became greener and fuller at her touch.

The vines and ivy began to elevate, and the two scientists soon found themselves suspended in the air.

“Please!” cried Walter. “Let us down! We truly mean you no harm! W-we merely wish to study you! To teach you!”

“Indeed!” Charles croaked. “Do you honestly think you can survive out there... on your own?”

At that moment, the ivy that covered Charles began to jostle about. The scientist screamed as he flailed back and forth. After two moments, the man’s slacks, belt, and overshirt dropped in front of the bewildered Audrey.

For a number of moments, Audrey knelt down, examining the individual pieces of clothing with obvious curiosity. Eventually, through some obnoxious coaxing from Charles and Walter, she had put the clothes on, though the white shirt was oddly buttoned and only half tucked into the khakis, which were too large for her, necessitating her to cinch the belt as tightly as she could around her waist.

Noticing her reflection in the mirror, she walked over to it. After awhile she realized that the reflection was not a new person, but, in fact, herself. She admired herself in the glass.

Turning, then, back toward her creators, she looked up at them, her eyes wide and innocent. “Char-les,” she said. “Wal-ter.”

Then, she placed her hand on her chest and uttered her name, with as much strength and dignity as she was able. “Aud-rey!”

And, with that, she was gone.

***

“Ouch!”

The woman swore silently, popping her finger into her mouth in an attempt to stop the blood flowing from her veins. Of course, if she actually stopped to think about it, she would have realized that she was actually sucking blood from her finger and not really stopping anything at all, but she was in too much pain right now to really think about that.

“What’s wrong?” came a voice from the front of the shop.

“Nothing,” she yelled back, pulling her finger from her mouth. “Just these damn roses!”

“I told you to be careful with those!” the voice yelled back. “It’s bad enough you insist on running around with pruning sheers!”

Flor Dominguez rolled her eyes and walked calmly over to the first aid kit that she always seemed to have near her whenever she was working in the back. She pulled out a Band-Aid, wrapping it around the tip of her finger, which was still trickling blood. Soon, the side of the bandage she could see had a deep stain from where the blood had already begun soaking into the gauze. She sighed and walked back over to her roses.

Flor had only been working at Madame Rossetti Florists in Thunder City for about two weeks now, and already this had been her ninth mishap—her sixth with roses. Flor had, for obvious reasons, developed a bit of a reputation as being accident-prone. And, to be fair, she really was. Who else but she could manage to get several strands of hair eaten by a venus flytrap and not notice it? Only Flor.

Still, Mrs. Rossetti was a kind employer who didn’t necessarily mind an accident here or there as long as it wasn’t serious. To date, none of them had been, and Flor desparately hoped to keep it that way.

Turning back to the sink, she once again began cutting the rose stems to make the corsages for the Carmine wedding when she heard the bell ring in the front of the store. She heard Mrs. Rossetti respond.

“Welcome to Madame Rossetti’s! How may we h—elp!”

Flor cocked her head to the side. It was very rare that Mrs. Rossetti lost her composure. It was like she just stopped, conversation-wise. Peeking her head around the back room door, Flor got a glimpse at who had just walked in the door.

A young woman stood there, no older than she by the looks of her. She had vibrant blonde hair that seemed to go on and on and extremely vivid green eyes. She wore a white button-down shirt and a pair of khakis that were obviously too big for her.

And she was completely green.

Flor, like Mrs. Rossetti, could not help but stare at this odd-looking creature. She seemed to gaze around for a long while, as though she were lost. She did not say a word.

Finally, Mrs. Rossetti got the idea to speak. “M-may I help you, dear?” she asked sympathetically, probably having noticed that the young woman had no shoes on her feet.

“Aud-rey,” she said, putting her hand on her chest.

Mrs. Rossetti looked back, raising a curious eyebrow at Flor, who merely shrugged and pulled herself fully into the room.

“Well, my name is Maria, dear, and this is Flor,” Rossetti said, indicating herself and Flor.

“Mah-ree-ah-dear,” the mysterious woman said, pointing to Rossetti. Then, motioning toward Flor, she uttered, “Floor.”

“No, no,” Flor said, shaking her head. “It’s Flor. You have to roll your tongue on the ‘r’ like this: Florrrrrr.”

The woman furrowed her brow and opened and closed her mouth a few times in succession, as though afraid of what might come out of it. Then, she opened her mouth and said, “Florrrrrr.” Then, with a look of complete excitement plastered upon her face, she said it again. And again. And again. Eventually, Flor had to cover her mouth just to get her to shut up.

“Okay, I—I think you’ve got it now,” she said, taking her hand off her mouth.

“Florrr—”

Instantly, Flor’s hand found its way back over the woman’s mouth.

“Okay,” Flor said, looking to Mrs. Rossetti. “What do we do now?”

“I-I can’t say,” Rossetti said, leaning forward on the floral counter. “What did she say her name was again?”

“Audrey,” Flor answered. As soon as the woman heard her name, she patted herself on the chest and a muffled, unintelligible sound managed to make its way through the closed fingers of Flor’s hand.

“I don’t think she understands much English, truth be told,” Flor said.

“Well, see if she speaks Spanish,” Rossetti said. “That is why I hired you, after all.”

Flor sighed. “Well, we don’t get many green-skinned people in the Spanish-speaking community, Mrs. Rossetti.”

“Well, there’s no harm in trying,” the owner of the shop said.

Sighing again, Flor removed her hand from Audrey’s mouth and turned the girl to face her. “Hola, Audrey. Me llamo Flor Dominguez. Habla usted ingles?”

However, at the mention of Flor’s name, Audrey’s eyes lit up. “Florrrrrrrrrr,” she said again, clapping as she said it. “Florrrrrrrrr.”

Shaking her head, Flor turned to Mrs. Rossetti. “Why don’t you try speaking Italian to her?” she asked.

“Flor,” Rossetti said disdainfully, “my husband is Italian. I’m a Lutheran.”

Flor furrowed her brow, attempting to understand the correlation between Italians and Lutherans when something caught her eye. A lot of somethings, actually.

All of Madame Rossetti’s had seemed to come to life. Every flower in the shop seemed much more vibrant and enthusiastic. So much more alive!

Then she noticed that every single blossom in the entire room had turned toward Audrey, as though she were the sun itself. Flor, her mouth suddenly agape, looked over at Audrey who, noticing what Flor had been seeing, smiled sheepishly and shrugged.

Mrs. Rossetti seemed only now to notice the flowers and gasped rather loudly. About ten seconds after Flor’s realization, Mrs. Rossetti exclaimed to Audrey, “My dear, did you do all this?”

As though answering her question, Audrey walked up to a bowl of roses, which all seemed to be beaming up at her. Leaning down close to the bowl, she pointed to a small bud hiding beneath some of the larger blossoms. Reaching in, she caressed it with her fingers, stroking it gently with her fingertips. Within moments, the bud had opened and fully blossomed as she held it in her fingers.

A stunned silence filled the room.

“My dear,” Mrs. Rossetti said after a long moment, “do you have a job, by chance?”

***

Within a matter of weeks, Madam Rossetti Florists had become the quite the go-to place for flowers in the tri-city area. Residents of Promethean and Thunder Cities—and even a few of the Lightningburghers—flocked to see the flower shop that had, almost overnight, become a full-blown greenhouse/arboritum.

Maria Rossetti was a completely different person. While before she had been a bit stressed, she seemed to be so much happier. Granted, the money lining her pockets was certainly a contributing factor, and there was no doubt in either her or Flor’s mind that the newfound Audrey was the cause.

Upon Audrey’s arrival, Flor’s job had doubled: she was now both a part-time floral arranger and Audrey’s full-time babysitter. It hadn’t taken either Flor or Maria long to notice that Audrey’s problem wasn’t that she didn’t speak English or Spanish or Italian, but simply that she could not speak at all. Rather than wonder about this, Flor had done what her mother had done to get all of her children to learn English when they were young—she nurtured Audrey on a steady diet of public television.

Through the daily viewings of Sesame Street and Mister Roger’s Neighborhood, Flor was astonished at how quickly Audrey had begun to master the English language. Within two days, she was already piecing together full sentences, learning basic math skills, and even showing aptitude with writing as well.

After that, Flor had brought her a stack of books and was amazed at how quickly Audrey had taken to reading them. Starting with Curious George and The Cat in the Hat, Audrey read each with relish, often finishing them very quickly and wanting even more to do. Flor and Maria were both completely flabbergasted at her progress.

“She must be gifted,” Maria said one day, watching as Flor stared intently at an episode of Pokemon on a children’s television network.

“You’re joking, right?” Flor said, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” Rossetti asked, swapping a sprig of baby’s breath for another rose.

“Well, it’d be one thing if we were talking about a one- or two-year-old, but at her age?” Flor asked. “I just assumed she was making up for lost time.”

“Well, to learn so much in just a week’s time—that’s rare,” Rossetti said, nodding.

“True,” Flor said. “Personally, I’m more impressed with her horticultural skills.”

Maria beamed as she glanced over at a wall filled with what, for all she knew, were new breeds of flowers. Whenever she would get bored with watching television or reading, Audrey would wander out into the flower shop and—well, it was almost as though she were playing with the flowers. She would take a couple of flowers—say, a tulip and a daisy—and, within a few minutes, would create an entirely new breed. Maria’s favorite was her cross-pollination of the orchid and the tiger lily, which Rossetti had made into a corsage that she wore constantly.

“She is gifted,” Maria said, looking over at Audrey, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Her mouth was agape as the Bulbasaur on the screen sent several vines toward an unsuspecting Ekans in order to whip it. The young lady clapped her hands ecstatically. “No doubt in my mind,” Rossetti finished, turning back toward the front of the store as the door chimed.

“Welcome to Madame Rossetti’s!” she sang. “How may I help you, sir?”

The next thing Rossetti knew, there was a large metallic cylinder hovering inches from her face.

“Gimme all the money in the register!” the man holding the gun said. “You,” he yelled at Flor, “on the ground with the other one!”

Flor immediately complied, dropping to the floor without so much as a rebuttal. Audrey, who had been up to this moment enraptured with the world of Pokemon, looked with confusion at Flor lying prostrate next to her and then looked back up, taking in the form of the mugger. Her eyes widened.

“Stay where you are!” the man yelled at her, his gun still aimed at Mrs. Rossetti’s head. “Stay there or I kill her!”

Flor looked up, as though worried that Audrey might try something, but she did not. Instead, she merely closed her eyes and began rocking back and forth on the ground.

At the till, Maria looked down at her curiously. “C’mon, lady!” the mugger shouted, jerking her back to reality. “Let’s see the green!”

At that moment, two vines from opposite sides of the store shot towards the man, grabbing his arms and pulling them apart, the gun staying where it was and dropping harmlessly to the countertop. Before the mugger could say anything, a vine shot from behind him, wrapping his head—and most notably, his mouth—in its greenery, while two more vines entangled his legs, lifting him into the air, his body forming a large X in the middle of the store.

His eyes wide and irate, the now would-be mugger thrashed a bit, tugging with all his might at the vines that entangled him. His strength even caused a couple of the vines to tear a bit—that is, until they spontaneously produced thorns, which dug into the man’s flesh. After a few muffled screams, the man stopped struggling, his eyes wide with fear.

Flor and Maria, both agape, gazed in awe at the suspended man, then back at Audrey, whose eyes were now opened and looking sternly at the mugger. “Well,” she said quietly, “he said he wanted to see the green.”

“That,” Maria stammered, “that, Audrey, that was amazing!”

“Seriously!” Flor said, rising to her feet. “How did you... do that?”

Audrey shrugged, shaking her head. Then, silently, she turned back toward the TV.

Even after the police had been called, all Flor and Maria could do was just look at Audrey in awe. Neither of them had ever seen anything like it before.

The following story takes place during the three month period that Hero and Quinn Stevens were hospitalized, leaving Doctor Marvelo, Captain Midnight, and Doug on their own.






Doctor Marvelo, Captain Midnight, and Doug:
Vortexus

It had been one full month since two members of the New MBL—Hero and Quinn Stevens, known only as Generator, Ener-G, or just plain G—had disappeared. The remaining members of the team, Doctor Marvelo, Captain Midnight, and Mickey Dugan—known as Doug—had no idea what had happened to their teammates and had spent the past four weeks searching for them, to no avail.

The trio of remaining MBLeaguers had taken to meeting on a weekly basis, sometimes at the Hogan's Alley Pub, which Doug co-owned, and sometimes at Captain Midnight's rented hotel room, which the good Captain liked to refer to as his “Midnight Cave.”

At the hotel room, Marvelo and Midnight waited for Doug to arrive for the trio's weekly meeting. Doctor Marvelo remained standing during his visit to the Midnight Cave, because the litter-covered hotel room was squalid, dusty, and almost devoid of furniture. Besides a bed covered with threadbare sheets and a pathetic-looking flattened pillow, all of which were covered with old stains, there was just one table and no chairs. Captain Midnight sat on the bed—rather, he sat on the edge of it, bouncing up and down slightly—chattering away about absolutely nothing. Doctor Marvelo could bear the stink of the room no longer and pulled out a handkerchief to cover his nose with. He was sure of it now—he would insist upon the location of their next meeting place, and it would be much more bearable than the Midnight Cave or the Hogan's Alley Pub. The New MBL really did need a decent permanent headquarters. As the acting leader in Quinn's and Hero's absence, Doctor Marvelo would have to put his foot down and insist on proper decorum in the future.

Marvelo had attempted to avoid direct contact with Midnight as much as possible, to no avail. The man was an insufferable bore, and an idiot to boot. He wished that Doug would arrive soon, so that they could each quickly update the other on their progress in finding their missing teammates and leave this horrid place.

The dimly-lit room suddenly started to glow strangely. The air seemed to bristle with some kind of unknown energy that seemed like harmless electricity or cold fire, as the candy bar wrappers and old socks on the floor suddenly began to swirl around in a circle, as if caught in a small cyclone.

“Fascinating,” remarked Doctor Marvelo, almost at a loss for words yet still retaining his almost legendary composure.

The strange phenomenon continued to expand, suddenly opening up into a colorful swirling tunnel like a portal in the middle of the floor. All the dust and any remaining small pieces of paper on the floor began to be sucked into it, but the force of it was too weak to draw anything larger toward it.

“Now what the deuce could this be?” said Marvelo, testing it with the end of his umbrella and finding a slight pull at its tip as he pushed it near the horizon. There seemed to be an edge to the portal, and it looked like a circular drain hole, as the strange energy swirled around it and poured down it like water down a drain.

Captain Midnight seemed nonplussed at the event, as if it happened every day. “Oh, right, I forgot all about it. This vortex thingie keeps popping up wherever I go. Some wild-eyed scientist I told about it made some calculations and said this would probably keep happening at random if I didn't figure out how to control it—said something about me being a 'vortex nexus' or something. Pretty cool, huh? I never have to clean my floor!”

Marvelo looked back with incredulity at Midnight, who was still bouncing slightly on the edge of his bed. He fought the urge to make a comment, simply shaking his head.

“Well,” said Midnight, leaping up from the bed, “let's go, good buddy!”

“Uh-uh,” replied Marvelo. “As remarkable as this phenomenon might be, I think it best left alone. Struth, Midnight, I haven't the foggiest idea how I've restrained myself from murdering you for this long. There's no bloody way I'm jumping into the unknown with you. You're jolly well on your own here.”

“Aw, c'mon!” pleaded Midnight. “You love me, and you know it, Marv!”

“For the last time, it's Marvelo.”

“Please? Pretty please? Pretty please with a—”

“I don't even know why I bother,” said Doctor Marvelo, his gloved hands resting on his temples as they began to throb from an impending headache. He knew neither where the portal led, nor whether he even wished to know. Still, was he not the master of the arcane, the mysterious, and the downright peculiar? This phenomenon bore investigation.

Captain Midnight stood in front of the portal and thought about the situation for about half a second. “Let's go beat someone up!” said Midnight, grabbing Doctor Marvelo and leaping into the portal.

“Wait!” yelled Marvelo, slightly losing his composure.

At that moment, Doug appeared at the hotel room window in the form of a homing pigeon and saw the portal just as his two teammates leapt into it. Within seconds he dove through the open window and flew down into the portal, screaming, “Wait for Doug!”

Moments later, the threesome fell from the height of six feet into a heap on a busy city street. They landed in front of a large building, and the vortex above them disappeared almost immediately afterward. They looked up to see a sign above the doorway before them that said “The Thunder Gazette Building.”

Doctor Marvelo noticed Doug, morphing into his usual yellow-skinned bald form. Doug held up a hand and waved at him with a smile. “Hi Doc,” the shapechanger said.

Midnight moaned in pain, as Marvelo and Doug had landed on top of him. “Did anyone get the number of that truck?” he groaned.

The thought that went through Marvelo's mind was, This is the last bloody time I'm performing a babysitting service for the New MBL.

Marvelo pushed himself up with his umbrella. “Well, this is jolly good,” he said sarcastically. A crowd had begun to form around the three, pedestrians gawking at them in their colorful costumes (or strange skin color in Doug's case).

At that moment, a frenzied bald man wearing a red doorman's suit ran up to them. “What the hell?” he said to himself, looking at the trio he recognized as members of the New MBL. “This has gotta be a joke! It's gotta be Buzz Randall's fault. I refuse to get involved. It's Security's job, anyway!” At that, he strode back into the building while waving his hands in the air dramatically and disappeared inside.

“Where are we?” asked Midnight, groggily rising to his feet. His nose was bleeding, but he hardly noticed when he checked with his finger, because his gloves were dark red.

Marvelo said, “I believe we've arrived in another part of Thunder City. But there are so many people walking around, I can't see far from here.”

Doug pointed into the lobby. “Let's ask that nice man over there with the big gun in his holster.”

He and Midnight went inside the building and approached the blue-uniformed security guard, while Marvelo followed hesitantly.

As they approached, Marvelo warned, “Er, good fellows, we probably shouldn't—”

“Welcome to the Thunder Gazette Building, gentlemen,” the beefy, angry-looking security guard said. “I know you must be here on a friendly visit.”

“The Thunder Gazette Building?” said Midnight. “Why are we here?”

“That's a good question, friend,” growled the security guard. “I'm the chief of security. I'm here to ensure that everyone's safe.”

“Hey, that's why we're here, too, pal!” cheered Doug. Doctor Marvelo suddenly cleared his throat. The shapeshifter didn't seem to notice and said, “Excuse me there, Mr. Security Chief, but we seem ta be lost.”

The security chief, looking very grim, said, “Go away, yellow man—I kill scum.” He narrowed his eyes at the three and said, in a low, threatening voice, “Are you three scum?”

At this point the crotch in Captain Midnight's dark red leather suit became somewhat darker and a lot wetter as the security chief pulled the gun from his holster and pointed it at him. He looked up and saw the security chief give him an evil smile.

“Oh, God, Mr. Security Chief, we're not scum!” cried Midnight, falling on his knees and pleading with both hands pressed together as if in prayer. “We just fell through a portal and came here by accident.”

The security chief looked familiar, somehow. Midnight looked at the chief's name tag.

“Brottakova?” Midnight remarked. “Hey, are you by any chance related to Sergeant Brottakova of the Promethean City Police Department?”

“I was Sergeant Brottakova of the Promethean City Police Department,” the security chief growled.

“Brottakova?” said Doctor Marvelo, recognizing the name. “Captain Midnight, wasn't he the poor fellow whom you—”

“He farted in my face!” shouted Brottakova, whose face suddenly broke into an expression of pure rage as he stared down Midnight. “I lost my job because of you, you crazy fucker!”

“Oh boy,” said Midnight.

“You three are scum!” Brottakova yelled. “I will now proceed to open a can of ass-kick on you!”

“That's it!” said Midnight, fed up. “I've had it with this place. Midnight powers activate!” He gestured with his hands over the floor.

Suddenly, as before, a vortex opened up on the ground before them. Brottakova, startled, dropped his gun and fell backward onto the ground.

“Whoa,” Midnight said, grinning as he looked at his hands in wonder, “a new power! I love it!”

Doctor Marvelo looked at Doug, who shrugged. The two leaped into the vortex, Midnight following soon after them.

The trio landed on the edge of what seemed to be a farmer's field, with Marvelo and Midnight landing on Doug, who had taken the form of a king-size bed cushion. Getting to their feet and looking around, they saw Thunder City on the southern horizon. A major freeway in the west was about a mile away from them, while next to them was a line of thick trees and bushes that acted as a wind break.

“Next time we pay a visit to the Thunder Gazette,” said Marvelo, dusting the dark soil off of his white suit, “remind me to look for Security Chief Brottakova, assuming the poor fool doesn't lose another bloody job.”

“Am I the only one who feels déjà vu right now?” asked Midnight. “Like I've done this before? I feel a bit... confused after that last leap.”

“Quite so,” said Marvelo, “which begs one question...”

“What's for dinner?” asked Midnight, immediately forgetting what he'd said. Doug bent over with laughter.

“What? Good God, man, no! The question is, how did you do it? It seemed like one of the vortexes happened purely by chance, and you had no control over it, while you were able to cause the second one to occur through your own willpower.”

Midnight shook his head. “Marv, buddy, you look way too much into things.”

Marvelo was exasperated at Midnight, though he retained his composure. “You do realize that we've been teleported twice within a few moments and were almost killed, do you not? And if you hadn't displayed some sort of previously unseen power, we'd probably be bloody dead!”

Neither Midnight nor Doug replied.

Doctor Marvelo sighed. “You know, old chap, I really wish that you had a bit more self control.” He began casually checking his umbrella for any sign of damage, followed by a quick search through the numerous pockets in his white suit. “Well, everything seems to be in proper order—my umbrella laser, my gadgets...”

“Stop right there,” said a female voice from behind them.

The three turned around to see three busty women wearing tight and skimpy leather outfits, a blonde, a brunette, and a redhead. They all stood in martial arts poses as if ready to attack.

“Wow,” commented Midnight, whose eyes were fixated upon the womens' ample chests. “Those things are so big, I wonder how they're not falling over.”

“Meh,” said Doug. “In all my years I never understood mens' fascination for ta-tas.”

“Are you joking?” exclaimed Midnight. “They're only the greatest things God ever made! What are you—gay or something?”

Doug shrugged. “Nah, I just don't have any sexual interests, I guess. Probably my species, whatever it is, reproduces in a different way from yours.”

At that moment, a young boy clad similarly in leather leaped from the bushes at the blonde and—knocking her down onto the ground—pushed his mouth between her cleavage and began slobbering all over her breasts.

“Lucky bastard,” said Doctor Marvelo, raising an eyebrow.

“Sean!” shouted the redhead, pulling at the boy in leather. “Get off of her this instant! Bad boy!”

The brunette continued to fix her stare at the three. “Where did you come from?”

Captain Midnight helped the redhead pull the boy off the blonde woman and began talking with them. “Do you girls come here often?”

The blonde and the redhead giggled, seemingly mesmerized by his witty banter—that is, until they surrounded him and hit him with two kicks, one on his chest and the other on his ass. Midnight was knocked flat to the ground. The redhead dug her heel into his neck to keep him there.

Doug, meanwhile, had affixed himself to the boy's leg to keep him from attacking the girl once again. Sean cried, tears beginning to stream down his face, “Get this wee beastie off me!”

“You leave him alone!” cried the blonde, diving at Doug. “Sean's mentally impaired! He doesn't know any better!”

“Some heroes you are,” said the brunette, scowling at them. “Now, I asked you boys a question: Where did you come from?”

Doctor Marvelo smiled and pointed up at the sky with his umbrella, which opened and pulled him up into the air. “Come, let's not tarry any longer,” he said to the others.

"Fine by me," said Doug, who fell suddenly into a crouch and leaped up into the sky, turning into a huge bald eagle just as suddenly.

Captain Midnight, meanwhile, took advantage of the moment that the redhead was distracted to knock her leg away, fling a hooked line into the air, and hook it onto Doug's eagle foot, which pulled him soaring into the air a second later. Midnight let out an involuntary "Ow" as he felt something pull painfully in his shoulders.

The three women dressed in leather and the boy dressed likewise stared at the trio as they soared south in the sky toward Thunder City.

“I guess our Charlie's Angels game is over,” said the blonde, pouting slightly.

***

Twenty minutes later, Doctor Marvelo, Captain Midnight, and Doug were standing in the laboratory of the scientist that Midnight had consulted some weeks earlier about his strange new problem. Marvelo had just finished describing in great detail what had happened to them.

The scientist, named Dr. Geoffrey Wright, was a small, bespectacled, balding fellow around 50 years old. “Good golly, Miss Molly!” Wright remarked, his bulging eyes giving him a wild, insane look. “You really are a vortex nexus, Captain—a 'vortexus,' if you'll pardon my strange sense of humor.” He chuckled at his joke for a few moments. “Now, where was I? Oh yes... Captain Midnight, you must learn to control this strange new power of yours, or a vortex could end up opening at the most inopportune moment. You must find out what you did to bring it on and try to replicate it.”

Midnight shrugged. “I don't know. The first few times it just sort of happened. Well, except for the last time. I guess I just got really scared, but really focused, too, y'know? I knew we were going to die if I wasn't able to open up another vortex, so... so I just did.”

“Amazing!” said Wright. “Simply amazing. Well, I must say that we live in the heyday of metahuman science, with so many new abilities being seen in the news almost every day now. Amazing. Well, Captain, I can't do anything more for you than I've already done, so I must say goodbye with a warning to figure out those powers before they, well... before they figure out you. Ah-heh.”

The three left Wright's laboratory, and Doug left for his home in Promethean City as Doctor Marvelo and Captain Midnight made their way to a nearby rooftop just as the sun began to set.

Marvelo said to Midnight, “Keep me informed about any new developments if they occur.”

“Right-o, Marv,” said Midnight.

“And Captain,” Marvelo added, “perhaps you should wait a while before mentioning any of this to G or Hero, when we see those chaps again.”

Midnight shrugged. “Suits me, I guess.”

“Finally, old chap,” said Marvelo, “I believe it's my turn to choose the destination of next week's meeting. I'll be in touch. Ta!” At that, Doctor Marvelo opened his umbrella and leaped into the air, floating off into the distance.

Captain Midnight just smiled and kept staring at his hands, full of new possibilities. “Midnight powers activate,” he said quietly. Nothing happened. “Midnight powers activate!” he said more forcefully. Still nothing. “Midnight... powers... activate!” he said, straining with all his might to bring back the vortex, but nothing happened. Learning how to use this to his advantage was going to be an uphill battle.