Thanksgiving: First Encounters with Plume IS roommates

Keeping with my goal of one themed post for every month (last month's was Uncle's Taxi Ride for Halloween), here is this month's themed post. Its Thanksgiving, of course (someone needs to show that fat man that November belongs to turkeys, not reindeer). Unfortunately, with work, all the video games released this month, all the TV shows I've been following, The Magicians (just finished and on my way to buy the next book), and my general laziness, I haven't had time to write a Thanksgiving story. Instead, you'll just have to deal with some true stories this month.

Thanksgiving, or at least what I can remember about it from elementary school, was mainly about cut-out hand turkeys and vests made of paper bags. Its also about being thankful for what you have, but you don't want to hear those stories and, more importantly, I don't want to tell them. To get out of this, I'll also accept that Thanksgiving was about first contact between the Pilgrims and the Native Americans. No, I don't know if this is true but I'm the one writing, plus I need a transition sentence to put these themes together so I can finally start writing. Anyways, today you'll get some of the first meeting stories I had with my Plume IS dormmates (I think that's a real word) when I spent a semester studying abroad in Japan a couple years ago. If you're wondering why you don't see your name on this list, its probably because I have a different story associated with you (trust me, I have one for everyone I met at Plume IS), and this is just meant for those first encounter stories. More than likely, some of these stories may not be the first meeting but they are at least early enough that I'll believe they were. And if you remember things a little differently than I do (or a lot differently), please feel free to leave a comment correcting me on it.

Welcome to Plume IS. red circle=my room

Yutaro a.k.a. "Yuty"

Literally, the first person I met in Japan (not counting the customs officer who confiscated my beef jerky or the taxi driver who looked at me like I was playing a prank on him when I handed him the address to the dorm). Honestly, I'm just happy you were awake to let me in the door or I probably would've spent the night sleeping outside and freezing my ass off (if you don't remember, my flight that day was delayed so I ended up arriving after what was supposed to be closing time). Thanks to you, not only did I get to spend my first night in a bed, but I also got a quick tour around the dorm and directions to the Lawson at the corner to get some dinner. Unbeknownst to me, though he was our R.A., Yuty would come and hang out with us all the time, from just hanging out in the lounge to guiding us around. Meeting Yuty would also become the bookends to my trip as he was also the last person I saw before getting on the train to the airport, though that time was to smoke on my balcony after my room check. Just to let you know, if you're reading this, after standing for two hours on the train to the airport making sure my bags didn't fall over, I thoroughly regretted giving you my last pack of cigarettes. There are few times I can remember when I needed a smoke so badly as after that train ride.

Terry

When I think about it, I probably met Terry just a couple hours after meeting Yuty on my first day in Japan. After a four-hour delay, an 8-hour plane ride, a bus ride to Yokohama, a taxi ride with a driver who I swear never once checked his blind spot when changing lanes, and getting lost right next to the dorm, I was thoroughly exhausted when I got to Plume IS. By the time I managed to get some cup noodles and a bag of chips into my stomach all I wanted to do was sleep in my freezing cold room (I had yet to figure out how to change the temperature on the A/C). That's when I heard a knock at my door. After determining that I wasn't dreaming, I struggled out of bed to find this guy standing at my door. To this day, I'm still not sure what Terry said, only that it had something to do with "tomorrow around noon" and "forms". The next morning, not quite remembering if it was a dream or not, I ended up just sitting around my room to see if someone was actually going to come by. Turned out it wasn't a dream and we ended up going to pick up those Registration cards with Julia and Yesle (both of whom I rarely saw ever again). Surprisingly, Terry ended up living on my floor so it was pretty cool having someone just as new as I was living just down the hall (especially since the only other first-semester people I ever saw on a regular basis were Hui Hui and Jane and they lived two floors up, I think...maybe just one?)

Rahel and Ricarda

Its a kind of embarrassing story but I'm sure we can all look back on it and laugh. Well, I met the two of you in the hallway on our floor at quite literally the same time (that's right, did I forget to mention that both Rahel and Ricarda also lived on the fourth floor?). I'm pretty sure that I either asked the two of you a question about something or else made some lame joke which caused you to regret ever engaging me in conversation as these tend to be my typical reactions when surprised by people I haven't met before. Actually, it might have been the two of you warning me never to cook fish without warning everyone else on our floor first, possibly under penalty of death. Anyways, I can't remember quite what happened... just that I kinda forgot your names right after we met. Not that I forgot your names were Rahel and Ricarda, but that I forgot which name belonged with which person I just met (I promise I've gotten better at remembering names since then). So... for about a week I think that whenever I would refer to the two of you when talking with someone else, I would just say your names really fast so it would come out as "rahelandricarada" or "ricardaandrahel". Eventually I would get everything sorted out and we became good friends, the end (I assume you're probably swearing at your computer screen right about now...)

Jane

Its a pretty short story, but memorable since you would actually be the first person I met outside the dorm. If anyone reading has been paying any attention, all the settings for these previous stories take place within the walls of Plume IS. But back to the story. I'm wandering around the Lawson Hyaku-en (it differs from the typical Lawson because EVERYTHING is only 100 yen), grabbing food like cup noodles and coke as well as a couple of random things like chopsticks and bowls. Its still only my second week in Japan and I'm still getting used to everything as well as still going through a whole mental list of things that I need to survive when suddenly this girl comes up to me as I turn into the aisle. I'm pretty sure its because I was still in the daze that comes from living in a new place, but I seriously only remember you hurrying right to me to ask if I was living in the dorm down the street and I think mentioning that we should find the other first-semester people to hang out together (unfortunately, I forgot what your room number was so I couldn't call you to come out with Terry and I).

Ben

Okay, no joke, I know I've asked you several times, but how is it that you are only in Japan for a semester and everyone in my dorm (not your dorm) knows you? So I got to Japan and even before I met up with you again, whenever I tell ANYONE I'm from Hawaii, they immediately ask, "Do you know Ben T.?" (since we already had a Ben in Plume IS, I guess you became Ben T.). The only thing I could figure was that you must've gotten in with the local Shin-Kawasaki yakuza and now control the flow of prostitution, drugs, and manga in and out of the city. But, back to the story. The dorm goes to Ueno Park (I think) for Hanami when I hear everyone start yelling and shouting as you turn the corner. In complete awe, I still have no idea how you did it, but, seriously, you should've just asked if you could move into our dorm.

Allison

I think the first time I met Allison was the first week of classes when I tagged along with Ben and Allison on their own exploration of Daikanyama. By this point I'd gotten used to the fact that Ben knew everyone in my dorm better than I did. I'm assuming I got in the way of most of the pictures both of you were taking that day. Mostly, I remember walking around Daikanyama, taking pictures and wandering into interesting shops. It was actually a discovery to me that even the smaller sections of Tokyo itself could have their own distinct personalities separate from each other. I think this trip was definitely the inspiration for using my Thursdays to explore when I could.

The Okonomiyaki Party (I think I spelled that right...)

A lot of you might be wondering why I'm not writing about our first encounter... well, I can honestly say its probably because I met a lot of you at the dorm welcoming party. Let's see, I remember being surprised by just how many people spoke German in our dorm (Thomas, Yuty, Dinah, Rahel, Ricarda, Stefan). as a side note, I did try to take German back at UH, but that went so horribly that I ended up dropping the course. Just the same, how many people spoke Korean (Suel, Amy, Terry, Hyemin, Julia, Yesle). I remember confusing Lindsay for Michelle since everyone kept asking if I met Michelle when I mentioned that I came from Hawaii. I also met Michelle. I remember going for ramen with Austin, Jon, Sunny, L, and probably some other people I'm missing after we ran out of Okonomiyaki. And I remember Sunny laughing for the longest time, though I cannot remember what was so funny.

The Ashtray

Honestly, I don't remember the first time I used the ashtray outside the dorm. Originally I used to smoke down by the river while I wrote crappy stories (none of which I've even looked at since I got back). but it turned out to be a good friend to visit every once in a while. I would go down with my pack of Marlboros, a bottle of coke, and a bag of chips just to sit on the ground, write, and occasionally scare anyone who came down to toss their garbage out at night in that barely lit area.

Drunken Alan

What can I say about drunken Alan? I remember I first met him (as did everyone else) at Allison's birthday party at this Izakaya we went to.

photo courtesy of Allison, I think...someone took it

I don't remember a whole lot about the first time I met drunken Alan except that he gave away a lot of my cigarettes that night and that he almost made us miss our train because he decided to sit down on the platform and didn't want to stand up when the last-fucking-train-that-night finally arrived. Magically, he left the next morning and I made it to class the next day.

The Sovereignty (part 3)

“Peter, is that you?” The smile on my face disappeared and I immediately turned into a caught child. Standing by one of the cars was Jeffrey, his blue police uniform fitting perfectly like an obsessive-compulsive robed in anal-retentiveness. It made sense that his Power would be to sense danger or anything else that disturbed the status quo. From the day I accidentally told Blaine about Jeffrey’s ability he’s used every moment they meet to use his mind control on him, failing everytime so far.

“Jeffrey could get us out of this,” I said, looking sideways at Blaine. He looked back at me and winked.

Blaine dropped the two bottles. As they shattered and caught everyone’s attention, he took control of Jeffrey just long enough for him to give the warning for everyone to drop to the ground. And why wouldn’t they believe him, his only power was to sense danger after all. Every cop dropped to the ground and tried to bury themselves in the dirt.

            The two of us bolted down a side alley and turned down the next street, ducking into a hole-in-the-wall convenience store. When I was sure none of the cops followed us, we headed home. Blaine headed just up the street to his apartment not even a block away (which I think is the real reason he likes drinking at Gray’s Tavern). I, however, needed to go up several blocks back to mine and Jeffrey’s apartment. It took another half hour to walk there, but I needed the time to calm my nerves as well as the money I saved from not hailing a taxi.

The Robbery

            I woke up the next day with the sun already shining bright through the open window and the sound of rush hour traffic already dying down. I was on the couch in the same clothes I wore the night before. Even though I knew no one was home all day yesterday, the apartment was still spotless and smelled like cleaner. It was part of Jeffrey’s morning routine to wipe down certain dust collecting parts of the room with disinfectant such as the coffee table and all the door handles. He also like to spray his chair and the couch with air freshener, which from the smell I think he did this morning even though I was sleeping on it.

            On my chest I found the notepad Jeffrey used to write messages he thought were important. I have not forgotten about last night. The two of you better start working on your excuses. And change your clothes before you go to work. Have a nice day. I tore out the page and crumpled it up before tossing it on the floor. When I first moved in with Jeffrey in my freshman year in college, I would throw his notes on the floor just to annoy him. Unfortunately, now I think Jeffrey just sees it as my reply that I got his message.

            Except for its unusual cleanliness, the apartment looked like it was put together with your typical My-First-Apartment starter kit. Everything in it from the fridge and microwave to the bulky TV set and the couch I was currently lying on was second or third hand, some from places that made me itch from just thinking about them. Standing out from the collection of used furniture was Jeffrey’s chair – a black, leather recliner he bought with his first paycheck. No one except Jeffrey sat in it. No one.

            Dragging myself off the couch, I wandered down the hall to my room. Resolving my pants from last night were still okay for another day, I grabbed a clean shirt and the only tie from my closet. After making a mental note to buy a new tie I headed out the door.

            With an hour before I started my shift, I walked over to the deli just a little farther up the street. However, along with an empty wallet, I only found about two dollars worth of coins and a couple of pepper shakers. I used the coins to buy a bag of chips and walked to the bank. Two Supers flew by, heading up the street. Three police cars heading in the same direction with sirens blaring pulled over to the side to allow the iconic blue and silver motorcycle to pass. It had no flashing lights or sirens, but when Captain Shield was on the road, everyone got out of the way. The motorcycle parted traffic where it could at this hour and cut through the rest like a surgeon operating with a battle axe. After all, when you’re invulnerable to most bodily harm, you don’t care about bouncing off a car or three (or five by my count before he turned at the next block). Looks like The League is out in force, I thought as I straightened my tie and walked into the bank.

            Inside, the afternoon lines were already starting to form. I hated working on payday Fridays. By closing time, I had been complained to seven times about how slow the lines were moving and why we didn’t open up another window. After the first couple of times explaining how I had no control over how many people we had working, I gave up and just nodded in agreement. Unfortunately, there were about twenty people still in line and the manager didn’t allow us to leave until everyone was helped. I swore silently as I called the next person to my window.

            Don’t get me wrong, I needed the overtime pay like a prostitute needs johns. The extra pay was the only way I was able to make rent as well as pay off a portion of my student loans every month. Still, I hated dealing with so many customers just because the boss refused to open anymore windows, leaving just two tellers everyday to handle the lines and complaints.

            I handed a customer three hundred dollars in crisp, twenty dollar bills when I heard the crash. Both of the security guards stood from their seats on either side of the door. Ex-League members from what I remember. The lights flickered and my hair stood on end. The air crackled and it felt like I was inhaling fire. One of the guards blasted the other with a lightning bolt, cutting his right arm clean off. No blood, only the smell of cooked flesh. Then he ran head-first into a wall, leaving behind a bloody stamp and falling unconscious to the floor. Standing at the entrance stood a figure in a large, completely buttoned-up black coat, the hood pulled over his (at least I thought it was a he) head. He, or maybe she, wore a demonic, green and red mask, complete with yellow fangs sticking out from the mouth and mirror lenses over the eyes.

            There was something in the demon-mask’s walk as the figure moved into the center of the lobby, a playful showmanship in its strut, like a magician about to make the entire building disappear.

            “Ladies. Gentlemen. Victims. Though you may not recognize me, I assure you that I have the full backing of The Sovereignty. As you should have guessed by now, I am here to rob you.” The figure waved its arms in grand gestures as he/she spoke with its voice masked electronically, alternating between the deep bass of a thunder’s boom and the high-pitched squeal of a thirteen-year-old boy-band groupie. “Now, on the ground,” the demon-mask said, lowering its hands. Simultaneously, all the customers dropped to the ground, the looks of fear disappearing from their faces.

            I looked down just in time to see the light from the neutralizing wave emitter at my feet turn from green to off. I kicked it once, twice. Nothing happened. A duffel bag hit me in the face. “Fill that up,” the figure said after tossing another bag at the only other teller. “And don’t even think about touching the silent alarm.” And now I was fucked, I thought as I realized my finger had been firmly placed on the button since the demon-mask walked in.

Uncle's Taxi Ride

I finished as a finalist in the newspaper's Halloween Fiction Contest! Okay, so I didn't win and you'll have to scroll down the page to the second to the last paragraph just to find my name mentioned among the twelve other writers in the article, but I'll take the ego boost. I think Billy Madison said it best:

And yes, that was my actual reaction. Anyways, I can't find my story on the newspaper's website so I guess they're not going to sue me for posting it myself. Happy Halloween!

Uncle's Taxi Ride

Through the chill-fogged windows, shapes manifested here and there within the mist, darting around the cab like the wind personified. Suddenly, a gust of wind hit the side of the taxi like a battering ram. Before the passengers could let out a scream another gust slammed the other side of the cab, rocking it off its wheels.

            The wind banged the cab around several more times before settling back to circling the taxi again. Mary and Lucas Connor peered out the windows, hoping to see something on the side of the mountain road through the frosted windows. Uncle, their taxi driver, assured the couple everything was alright and that they were close to their destination now, the most haunted spot on the island. “I like to think of the strong winds as spirits trying to get at our souls,” Uncle said with a raspy laugh.

            Lucas looked out his window, not seeing anything except the shadows slowly building in the fog. To him, the haunted places they visited today all lacked the same thing – a haunting. To him, the spookiest thing the isles offered wasn’t the places Uncle drove them to, but rather Uncle himself. The only thing he did know for certain was that Uncle was not his real name, and only because he told them. “Just call me Uncle,” he had said when they first got into his cab outside the hotel. “No one’s able to pronounce my real name anymore. It’s much too long and much too old.”

Mary spotted a handprint on the window. It was definitely an adult handprint, the palm impression slightly darker than that of the fingers. It wasn’t the normal, oily, greasy handprint on glass. Instead it looked as if the cold personified stamped its mark upon the glass. Curious, Mary placed her hand on the impression only to quickly pull back. It was cold, not just to the touch but to the soul – freezing her inside as well as out.

 “Looks like we’re here,” Uncle said without slowing the taxi. The scent of decay filled the cab, turning their eyes to Uncle. The man looked back at the Connors; his eyes glowed an eerie red and sank into his skull, like lava in a volcano pit, like the entrance into Hell. His skin began to pale, other parts yellowing, and some sections even peeling away to reveal the bone underneath. His white teeth, smiling in greeting, transformed into a predator anticipating a feast.

            Mary and Lucas screamed from the backseat of the cab. Inhuman laughter echoed through the cab, drowning out the screams of the passengers and the protests of the wind. The sound was enough to rattle the cab and unhinge Mary and Lucas Connor. Mary placed her hand on the glass, looking for an escape. Instead she felt the pressure of another hand coming from the other side of the glass. She screamed and withdrew, clutching onto Lucas for hope.

            Outside, the ghostly faces peered in, letting out inaudible screams. Some raced away back into the fog. Some stayed, banging themselves into the sides of the taxi. And the face closest to the glass, with defeat in its eyes, mouthed the words, “I’m sorry.” With that, the ghosts darted from the taxi as it disappeared into the mist.

            Later that night, a taxicab pulled into a mysteriously empty stall in the front of the hotel and Mary and Lucas Connor got out. Up on the sixth floor, the Lee family tried their best to sleep through the windstorm battering itself against the window. Outside, the Connor’s joined the others in their pounding and screaming, knowing well it was all the warning they could give, and knowing well it would go unheeded.

The Sovereignty (part 2)

I looked around behind the bar where we both hid. Blaine and I had been getting in and out of trouble since we were nine years old. There had to be a way out of this. If the bank found out we got involved in a bar fight, they would fire the both of us. Unlike Blaine who seemed to have no problem finding a job after moving to Central City, it took me three years after graduation, waiting at two different diners, several office temp jobs, and a couple months of unemployment before I could swallow my pride and ask Blaine to put a word in for me at the bank as a teller. I needed this job. Jeffrey would kill me if I couldn’t make rent for the third month in a row, or worse, kick me out of the apartment.

“How about helping us get the hell out of here instead of drinking every damn bottle you can get your hands on!” Blaine drained his current bottle. After taking a look around the back of the bar, he started tossing several small, glass containers at me.

I managed to catch a few of the vials while the rest shattered on the ground around me, scattering salt and pepper all over the ground. “Maybe you can blind them with those,” he said with a laugh. I tossed one of the shakers back at him and, reluctantly, decided to pocket a couple of the pepper shakers. It’s not like I had a better idea.

The neutralizing wave emitter in the cabinet caught my eye again. “I think I just found our way out of here,” I said. I yanked the box out of the cabinet and almost had a panic attack when the battery pack dropped out from the bottom. The light shut off and an energy blast shot over the bar and phased through the wall into the building next door. Quickly, I reconnected the battery pack and strapped it to the machine with my tie. I changed the range to 3 feet, hoping that the machine still had enough power to completely shut down all Powers at that range rather than just weakening them at 100 feet.

Blaine, unimpressed, shrugged and grabbed another beer from the cooler as well as putting a two more in his pockets. “I guess I can take these to go,” he said as he got to his feet and immediately took hold of the nearest Doppelganger clone. He liked to explain it as not pure mind control, but rather planting “suggestions” in someone’s mind (as far as he knew, he could only control one person at a time). The target could disobey, but the euphoria from following the command was so overwhelming and intoxicating that anyone on the receiving end didn’t want to defy them. He decided to send the clone charging straight into a group of Supers fighting amongst themselves. Apparently, by copying Captain Shield the clones also inherited some of his super strength because it took down at least seven other Supers behind them as well.

I jumped over the bar and was immediately punched in the face, dropping the box on the ground. My head snapped back and I tasted blood. Dizzy and blinded by a bright light, I reached around the bar, looking for the black box. I felt someone push me into the bar and tilt my head up.

“Wait!” I shouted, “I’m normal. No powers. Not a Super.”

I heard laughter until my eyes came into focus. Before me stood a Super dressed in an open red trench coat, completely unbuttoned and shirtless to reveal his toned physique. It was the shimmering, red gauntlet materializing around his right fist and forearm that caught my eye. “Looks like you picked the wrong day to wander into Gray’s Tavern, tourist.”

He swung his fist and the shimmering, red gauntlet headed for my head. As it got closer, I saw the little details put into the gauntlet and was impressed, like a swimmer is in awe of the shark’s teeth. The red material didn’t form just a single piece of armor, but a full-fledged gauntlet. The red material looked like solidified light as it created a solid piece along the forearm and back hand as well as dozens of tiny plates over the fingers to allow flexibility. Most impressive was the bonus spiked knuckleduster. I dodged at the last moment and the gauntlet collided with the bar behind me, exploding a section of the counter as well as cracking fissures in the far wall further back. My ears rang and I could feel the sting of splinters in my skin as I looked up to see the red gauntlet winding up for another punch.

            “Stop!” I closed my eyes and brought my empty hands in front of my face, bracing for death. Time passed. Too much time. I opened my eyes to see the shimmering, red gauntlet stopped inches from my face, shaking and struggling to surge forward as muscles rippled like they’d just hit a wall. The look on the Super’s face was blank except for a drugged smile. Blaine stepped out from behind him and grinned.

            “You did want him to stop, right?” He handed me a bottle he took from the bar and tapped two fingers on the Super’s forehead. “Come on. He’ll barely feel it.” He paused, smiled. “Until tomorrow, that is.” The Super started to sway and I wasn’t sure if it was from the euphoria of obeying Blaine’s command or if he was already trying to resist the mind control. Either way, he just tried to kill me knowing that I wasn’t a Super, I didn’t have any powers to fight him with. I forgot about the brawl going on around me and looked at the bottle in my hand. It asked to be smashed and the Super certainly deserved it. I lifted the bottle … and tossed it at the wall, spraying glass and beer on Supers with a lot more to be worried about at the moment.

I found the neutralizing ray on the floor and brought it close to the Super, shutting off his red armor. Blaine took control of another Captain Shield clone and ran him to into another group of Supers, giving us a straight line to the door. “By the way,” he said, “you also have that same stupid face when I use on you too.”

Before I could respond with a witty comeback of my own, we were out the door and in front of a squad of police cruisers and a dozen riot officers in full gear – body armor, neutralizing rifles, and disruptor shields. I dropped the box and slowly raised my hands in the air. From the corner of my eye, I could see Blaine raising two beer bottles he’d apparently snuck out with him. I let out a sigh of embarrassment but at least we were out. 

So it took a little longer than I planned but I finally got the second part finished and I promise I'll try to pick things up in the next part and get into the main story already. I'm already seeing some problems but I'm hoping I can fix those as I go. If you're wondering about the title (The Sovereignty) I'm hoping I can get to that in the next part or the part after that. And yes, there is a good excuse for taking so long: I finished a story for Halloween (I'm thinking about doing a theme short story depending upon the month or something like that) and the TV started its fall season of new shows and episodes and as one of my oldest friends, I feel an obligation to watch them. Also, its the MLB playoffs and though the Braves are out I'm still gonna watch the games I can.

The Sovereignty (part 1)

Gray's Tavern

            I downed the last of my beer and tried once again to convince Blaine it was time to leave. It wasn’t late; I just hate drinking at Gray’s Tavern. It wasn’t the prices, which were pretty standard for your local bar. The place also had a decent location and a good size to seat the regulars as well as anyone who wandered in out of curiosity with a long bar, a couple of tables, and several booths in the back. Actually there wasn’t really anything bad about Gray’s Tavern at all, it’s just that I hate drinking at a bar populated with superheroes and supervillains alike.

Blaine wouldn’t hear it. “Come on, Peter. Happy hour isn’t even over yet,” he said as he ordered two more beers. I let out a sigh and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror behind the bar. I brushed my hair back to the side and readjusted my tie. The rest of our coworkers from the bank left about a half hour ago when two pyrokinetics started launching fireballs at each other, setting their table on fire as well as some of the surrounding walls. The fact that the place didn’t burn down nor the rest of us reduced to ashes before the bouncers tossed them out proved they weren’t A-class Supers like Phoenix or Dragon. They probably weren’t even B-class either. Possibly just some small-time punks looking for trouble when they’ve had too much to drink. The bouncers, as well as a few patrons who had their nachos roasted and drinks boiled, took care of them easily.

            I looked around the room, though not really expecting to see the more famous Supers. Some patrons were still dressed in costume as if they just got off work as well (or trying to avoid anyone finding out who their secret identity was). I saw Captain Shield and Pandora shooting pool, his stick resting on the table while he held his pool cue above his head. The remaining members of The League played cards with the members of The Titan Three in one of the booths in the back (which they surprisingly did often when they weren’t arresting them for bank robbery and property damage). Supers were, after all, just normal people who needed to unwind and Gray’s Tavern seemed to be the place a lot of them frequented. Perhaps just for the company of those who were just like themselves.

            It’s no surprise that Blaine felt right at home here. I sat on my stool, nursing my beer while he made jokes with the other Supers at the bar and ran his fingers through his blond hair in what he imagined was an enticing manner. Unlike me, his tie was currently around the neck of the bartender who continued to tease him by dissolving into smoke everytime he pulled her closer. Blaine always was more of a people person. Plus he had some basic mind control abilities. Not enough for anyone in The League or The Sovereignty to take particular notice, just the basic D-class, possibly C-class on a good day.

            Suddenly there was the sound of a bottle smashing on a skull and the bar went silent, which was never a good sign (fights occur at Gray’s Tavern nightly and the band never skips a beat, much less stops, unless a lot of shit’s about to hit a really big fan). I turned to see Captain Shield, leader of The League, covered in broken glass and drenched in whiskey. Forming a circle around the table was The Doppelganger and roughly a dozen of his clones, all of them looking exactly like Captain Shield except the blue and silver of his costume was inverted on the clones. One of the clones grabbed the arm of Pandora, pulling her out the seat and behind him while muttering something about cheating on his brother (I wasn’t sure if he meant The Doppelganger himself or The Doppelganger’s actual brother, if he had one).

            Pandora touched the clone’s forehead and instantly his body began to decay, from rotting flesh to bare bones to dust. Captain Shield grabbed the closest clone and threw him into the far wall and the sound of every bone in its body breaking echoed throughout the bar. This seemed to signal for the rest of the bar to erupt. Old rivalries awakened and new ones sparked as strength met speed, elementals challenged technopaths, and other powers I’m almost certain are still undocumented went flying indiscriminately around the room.

However, not everyone who came here was a superhuman. Some normal people just wanted a chance to catch a glimpse of their resident Supers, or perhaps catch one or two of them unmasked when they’ve had too much to drink (secret identities paid out in the five figures if you could find a newspaper to sell a picture to that wasn’t afraid of a Super bringing down their entire building the next morning). The curious types always wandered into Gray’s Tavern to see what Supers were like in their down time away from saving or destroying the world. The adventurous come to Gray’s Tavern to see the almost inevitable fight that is sure to break out. And right now, they were all definitely getting their monies worth. Cameras were going off left and right, only to be met with a fist, kick, or a stray blast of something or other.

I, being one of the normal humans, jumped over the bar to find Blaine already there, helping himself to a beer he’d clearly just taken from the cooler.

“Shouldn’t you be out there, fighting with your fellow Supers?”

He laughed, grabbed another beer and tossed it to me. “Hell no. Using mind control in a cramped place like this is a sure way to get blindsided, especially with all of them just randomly attacking each other.”

The various crashes, smashes, and screams on the other side of the bar started to get louder. Jets of flame, lightning, and psychic beams flew over the bar, destroying whatever bottles were left. “Shouldn’t this place have security measures for something like this? A-class bouncers? Stasis fields? Neutralizing waves?”

Blaine laughed again and tossed his bottle over the bar and into the mob. “You really think your local bar prepares for something like this?” He opened up one of the cabinets below the bar. Inside was an uncovered black box filled with neon red tubes and smelling of exhaust. It was a neutralizing wave emitter (I recognized it from the one we have under each teller desk at the bank). From the color of the tubes, which were normally green, and the burning smell filling my nostrils, it clearly wasn’t built to cancel the amount of abilities going off at the moment, but was doing the best it could (which was probably why we all weren’t buried under rubble yet). “There’s probably a couple of these around the bar, but it doesn’t look like it’ll do any good with all those Supers, not to mention half the members of The League, out there.”

“I told you we should have left earlier,” I said as I pulled my knees into my chest and sat on the floor. I looked over at Blaine, still drinking any bottle he could take from the cooler without poking his head above the bar. Between the two of us, I was never the planner but right now I wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of here. I only needed to get passed the mob of Supers in an old-fashioned, alcohol-fueled, bar brawl.

This will be my first time posting an incomplete story. If you're hoping for the next part of the story to follow as quickly as the other stories did (see Mr. Thompson or The Final Case for Detective Jones), well those were finished when I posted them. So far its just this, a rough section on how Peter and Blaine make it out of the bar, and a rough outline of the story. I'm hoping that this will eventually turn into a bigger project than the other short stories I've got, though we both know that hope will probably fade into just wanting to put in a proper ending to the story. Fingers crossed for part 2 to be finished in a couple of weeks and the hopefully part 3 next month...