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Post by fenix on Dec 6, 2010 10:40:42 GMT -5
9 AM. If he hurried up, he could make it to work on time. However, if he waited until after his shift ended, the Family goons in this warehouse would have packed up and moved onto another location, which meant more time spent searching for them, and the chase had gone on for far too long for his tastes already. No, this ended right here, right now.
Guards were a bit sparse this early in the morning, most people by this time were either already at work, or zooming in toward the office praying that the boss wouldn’t notice them sneaking in through the back. Works to his advantage, though, means they weren't expecting a raid. If he was just quiet enough....
THWACK!
Oh, well. Stealth was never his strong suit.
“Yo, Frankie, what was tha- Hey! Who are you?!”
WHAP!
A baseball bat to the stomach left the other guard in a crumpled heap on the cold ground. “Trust me on this one. You’re going to want to stay down.”
“S.... screw... you....”
BONK!
With the Family Blackjack passed out, Man With Bat was free to enter the compound and find the records that the police were looking for in one of their many ongoing investigations.
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Quarter ‘til 11. If Steve was lucky, his boss wouldn’t be in yet and he wouldn’t have to hear any whining about how he was almost late. Oh how Steve hates it when his boss whines like a little-
Wait. Why is there police tape surrounding the store?
“Excuse me, officer? What’s going on?”
“We’re performing a full investigation. According to documents that a hero recovered this morning, this place is a front for a Family money laundering operation.”
Oh....
Well, shit.
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Post by fenix on Dec 14, 2010 19:12:01 GMT -5
[One Week Later]
Steve lay face-down on his couch. There wasn’t really much reason to get up during the days anymore, no job to work at, and he didn’t have enough education for the work that was available. His “night job” was more of a charity work, and his roommate had bailed to sleep at his new chick’s place. Rent was due in a few days, and Steve didn’t have enough in his bank account to cover the entire thing by himself.
“Forecasters say this this winter just might be the coldest in Paragon history, Chuck. Who knows, we might even finally see some snow.”
“That would certanly be something, Diane. In other news, more refugees from the dimension known locally as “Praetorian Earth” have....”
And it was going to start snowing soon. Could things get any better?
“...had this to say.”
“It’s amazing how... festive everything is here. Back home, we never celebrated Christmas.”
Shit. Christmas. Need to get gifts, too.
“...Interesting to see how it all plays out.”
“Thanks, Tom. The PS238 basketball team won a victory over-”
Steve turned off the TV. No real point in sitting around the house, he should probably be out turning in applications that will be ignored, or finding someone who wouldn’t mind a roommate for a little while. If worse comes to worse, he could always sleep on the couch in the NUL base... right?
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Post by fenix on Jan 20, 2011 17:59:54 GMT -5
“Now, Mister.... Porter, is it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now, you are aware that we do offer jobs for several companies to anyone with a meta-human registration card.”
“That’s right.”
“However, it seems that you do not actually have any superpowers.”
“Not... as such, no...”
“Yes, well, unfortunately all of our job openings at the moment have requirements that are... beyond your current abilities.”
“There aren’t any openings?”
“Mister Porter, if you could run at 90 miles per hour, or fly directly to certain offices, we could give you a position as a courier. If you had any official training, we could get you a position as a bodyguard. However, it appears that you do not actually have any meta-human abilities, beyond the ability to swing a baseball bat. I am afraid we cannot help you at this time.”
“Oh. I see.”
“If you wish for us to contact you if a job fitting your... abilities, you may leave your contact information at the front desk. However, I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”
“Oh. ...Well, thank you for your time, sir.”
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Ah, damnit. There’s another job opportunity down the drain. Still, the interview was more then Steve’d gotten from the Civilian unemployment offices, they’d not even let him in the door. And who’d blame them? The only job skills that he’d brought to the table were the ability to swing a baseball bat at people, customer service experience, and that he’d taken down a pedophilic brain in a jar once. ….Maybe he could apply for a job at Walmart or something? No, no... Too much self respect still, Steve had a long way to go until he hit that level of desperation.
So, it was another trip bac to the New Urban Legends base, another night of sleeping on that lumpy couch, and another night of stale Pop-Tarts for dinner. “God,” thought Steve, “I wish that they’d go out to get some new food, or something. I mean, jesus. Just once, I’d like to have a form of protean that isn’t a can of beans, and that wierd red juice bag in the back of the fridge has to have gone off, it tasted like old pennies.”
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“Nah, brah. That’s all I know.”
“You must now something. You owe far to many debts to The Family to be hiding anything. Now tell me, where is the man known as Man with Bat?”
“Man with... Oh, you mean Steve! Dude, guy was a prick.”
“Where is he!?”
“Dude. I dunno.”
“Hey, Boss. This guy is an idiot, want me to get rid of him?”
“Dude, all I know is that he walked home from work, I didn’t really talk much to him out of work, brah.”
“Stop saying ‘Brah’, you braindead-”
“Sir, wait. If what this man is saying is true, then this ‘Man with Bat’ worked at our gas station that he shut down.”
“Really? Wow. What an idiot.”
“Yes, sir, but that also means that we have his home address. We can suprise him in his own home.”
“Very good. Dispose of this... trash, and then we’ll take care of this... ‘Bat’ man.”
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