“The Fix” - Another Story From My Sleep

I love it when I’m just the camera in a dream, not the one the camera focuses on. It’s probably the closest I’ll ever get to lucid dreaming, and it’s usually indicative of a good mood the prior day. This one actually occurred to me about a month ago. The whole thing was pieced together over TWO sleep sessions. This one convinced me to - mayhap - compile my weird story dreams into an anthology of sorts. Still working out the kinks on that minor epiphany.

Apologies if the writing appears stream-of-consciousness-ish. It’s just a summary of events…and I was excited. I know, not much of an excuse.

A blind hacker/fixer who wears specially-affixed sunglasses for blueprint read-outs - named Tactile - moves to a new town and is introduced to the underground black market via an old friend, a big black guy named Tomb Eric Root.

At a makeshift club called “The Neutral Zone” he sets his sites on a woman who is a notorious street warrior and gang leader.

He asks said friend - now known as Tombs - to set up an introduction. Even though his friend informs him that the gal - Jeri Planck - hasn’t dated a man since she KILLED the last one.

(I.e. She’s only dates women.)

But before Tombs can even set up an intro, his lover and right-hand-man - a burly Asian named Min Yun - jumps HER gang in plain sight outside the club. Min - an excellent fighter - succeeds in killing her two male bodyguards, but is quickly dispatched by her. Barely left alive. When Tombs, Tactile and Min return to their boss - a guy named Quade Quake - they explain the failure. Quade takes Tombs aside. He explains that he never expected Min Yun to survive but is glad he did. However, Quade has to use him as an example. He gives Tombs an order:

“A finger should do. As a warning and a lesson.”

Tactile uses this as an opportunity to get in Quade’s good graces and offers his unique talents to dispatch Jeri Planck. Tombs and Tactile also leave to carry out Quade’s order, slicing off an index finger of Min Yun. They meant to accomplish this anonymously, but there was a mix-up. Tombs is found out. Said lover confronts him at The Neutral Zone that evening.. The club owner - Rue-B Lo-Fi - tells folks to clear the dance floor and erects a holographic boxing ring as a joke (on Tactile’s advice). Tombs wins the fight, and informs Min Yun that he and Tactile hatched a plan to leave Quade’s gang. He doesn’t care, seeking to kill Tombs for the missing finger. Tombs kills him instead.

In the ensuing brawl, Tactile makes his move on Jeri. Her three other female compatriots try to interfere any which way…but he cleverly dodges them…or outright parries a blow. However, instead of killing her, Tactile kisses her. She returns the affection, impressed that a man could get that close to her without dying. Tombs fight finishes. Tactile and Jeri are making out. Epilogue, Jeri replaces her two male bodyguards with Tumes and Tactile.

Tactile is approached by one of the three female members and she says, “You know, you still have to allow Jeri her women. In return, she’ll allow you men.”

Tactile explains, “Sorry, I like women.”

Girl: “Damn, you’re gonna have a problem there. So does she.”

Tags: cyberpunk, dream, romance

“Title Zero” - A Superhero Comic Synopsis

So, a friend of mine (Aaron) and I were yacking one day about potentially collaborating on a project; a superhero thing, no less. Like there aren’t enough of those. However, after our brainstorming conversation concluded, I set out to run some errands. The notion would NOT leave my head.

In the span of that drive, I plotted a few details down for how we would do one. Upon returning home, I spent the next three or four hours hammering ‘em out. This is the result:

TITLE ZERO SYNOPSIS:

The year 2001 was known as the birth of the “true millennium”. While the fears of the many subsided with the Y2K changeover, there were still those that awaited the successive year with equal parts fascination and fear. For an event was expected by some - an educated few - that could alter the destiny of humankind forever. Their reservations were correct.

For on January 1^st, 2001, the Rhea Cascade happened. A leyline singularity unlike any other; an energy surge of untold power. It didn’t happen in one area, but many. The strongest nexus of which surrounded the plot of land where the as-of-yet Pantheon High School was to be built. The government took notice of this and acted quickly. Referring to the top minds of the science and fringe science communities, a conclusion was reached.

Pantheon High would indeed be built, but not as any normal school. Rather, a Petri dish of sorts. Under the guise of a public school funded under a “Title Zero” government grant, students from all walks of life would populate it’s halls; children whose test scores indicated a potential for greatness. The government would see what would happen to them on a hotbed of metaphysical energy…and wait.

It did not take long. Although 75% of students were unaffected by the invisible “surge”, a quarter of them began exhibiting paranormal traits. The onset was subtle at first. Girl-A would get a top grade on an English test, even though she was a recent immigrant. Boy-C would run a full marathon on a meniscus tear. The top 1%, well, they went farther.

The Pentagon’s patience had paid off. Six students exhibited abilities only heard of in comic books, and better still…their powers were growing. The problem remained of what to do with the other 25%. Superpowered teens were unanimously considered a threat if left unchecked. By the end of June 2001, the Expulsion Directive was carried out.

While prolonged partial exposure to the Rhea energy opened the gate to newfound abilities, a concentrated pulse had the opposite effect. A student exposed would have their powers stripped. Problem nullified. However, once a student was torn from their newfound talents, a part of their very being was ripped from them as well. Some officials likened it to a spiritual lobotomy. Expelled students either fell into an incurable catatonia…or died.

The chosen six were put through a rigorous training regimen. Their identities were shrouded in secrecy. Official designation at Pantheon High was “En Passant”, or less formally; the Chess Team. Their codenames were the six player pieces on a chessboard; King, Queen, Rook, Knight, Bishop and Pawn. In one year’s time, they were ready for field work as military-sanctioned field operatives. That is…until the incident.

2009. No students have exhibited the same level of talents as the original En Passant group until now. These six - under the mentorship of a new Chessmaster - pick up the mantle their predecessors left behind. The difference is none of them know of the Expulsion Directive or the founding principles of the Title Zero program. Secondly, none of them can stand the sight of each other. And lastly…

They have the power within them to become gods on Earth.

If they don’t destroy it first.

CHARACTERS:

Professor James Laxis:

A former college professor with a doctorate in psychology, students often refer to this shifty, bearded - but amiable - man as Profo Laxis. Or Jimmy Hat. He is the Vice Principal of Pantheon High and the new Chessmaster for En Passant. Getting the new group together, however, has proven a rather daunting task. Luckily, he has a few tricks of his own, namely partial clairvoyance. He can see the future up to “ten steps ahead”, which allows him to plan for most eventualities.

Most.

His reason for taking up the mantle of Chessmaster, aside from his unique Rhea-influenced abilities is his personal attachment to the Title Zero project. His daughter, Blue Laxis, was the former Queen of En Passant…and current leader of Shogi.

Leroy Hayman:

A transferred sophomore to Pantheon High, this tall, built African American male is the envy of all his peers. Smart, cunning, charismatic, and completely aloof. He turned down the opportunity to run for Student Council. His test scores are through the roof, and - despite his best efforts to the contrary - he maintains a B- average.

His abilities are all in his mind; literally. Telepathy, telekinesis, pyrokinesis, if there is a mental trait, he can master it. That is, aside from psychic abilities, which Mr. Laxis seems to have over him.

He is the new “King” of En Passant. Designation: “Checkmate”.

Philomena “Mena” Silver:

Towering most sophomores at five-eleven, the Amazonian Mena Silver was the only one from her class to be accepted on the varsity cheerleading squad. Although considered a high honor, what they really wanted her was for support. After all, her physical prowess was obvious. Regardless of her build and size, she is strikingly beautiful and she knows it. The results of which means she never dates anyone below her height; a strict rule.

Her abilities are fairly self-explanatory. She possesses superhuman strength…with an added twist. If the need arises. Her skin pores secrete an alloy coating, sheathing her in metal. “Silver”, indeed.

She is the new “Queen” of En Passant. Designation: “Endgame”.

Hugh Lincoln:

Hugh is a sophomore, and a very well-known one at that. In his very short run of the school thus far, he has racked up an impressive array of credentials - from cafeteria larceny to pep assembly pranks. The odd thing is, no one on the faculty appears to hate him. Students on the other hand, are split down the middle. Some want to worship him, others want to rend him limb from him.

They’d have to find him first.

Hugh has a talent with light. He can bend it to his will. From bending the light around him, rendering him invisible, to condensing a lightwave to a single (and deadly) beam. He isn’t one to be crossed lightly. Luckily he usually only uses his powers to annoy.

He is the new “Bishop” of En Passant. Designation: “Jester”.

Kira Lightfoot:

Studious, silent, and shy, Kira spends most of her time delving into a book rather than traversing the rigmarole of high school. She mostly keeps to herself, and if ever called upon…she can never be found. There’s a reason for that.

Kira was imbued with the slight manipulation of space-time. She can teleport and freeze time at will with a simple thought. The duration and length of these episodes depends on her level of concentration, which is usually easily distracted.

She is the new “Knight” of En Passant. Designation: “Elle”.

Jin-Wray Carwin:

This Amerasian tenth grader has always had a plan. School was but a step in that plan. Sports, only a means of honing his body. ROTC, only a means of instilling discipline. Some would blame his parents for this narrow-minded focus. Nothing could be further from the truth. This was all him. What was not in the cards, however, was superpowers.

But he’d adapt.

Jin possesses an exceptionally strong life force, one he can harness, shape, and throw at hypervelocity speeds. He can even alter the pressure and size of the impact just by his stance or expression. Don’t ever call it a “chi bolt” or “fireball”, though. He would take offense.

Then probably throw one at you.

He is the new “Rook” of En Passant. Designation: “Ballistic”.

Theodore “Theo” Payne:

Always the understudy, never the actor. Such is the freshman life of the confessed of ”theater geek”, Theo Payne. His dream was to perform as Hamlet at least once. Instead, he was drafted to light detail and tech work. It didn’t help that he was quite good at it. Affable and well-liked, though he was, none considered him talented enough to take the stage. Occasionally he’d get a bite as a member of a Greek chorus or a dancer, but that was it. He never got his curtain call, and it was starting to show.

His moment to shine would come in another form.

Theo has the most unique ability with the greatest amount of potential. While it may seem that all he is is an “elastic man”, in reality he’s a shape-changer. Aside from altering his form and size at will, he can also mimic anything that he touches once; be it person, place or thing. What has not been told to him, though, is this ability might evolve past mere mimicry.

He is the new “Pawn” of En Passant. Designation: “Puppet”.

Tags: Comic, High School, superhero

“Marshall Joe” - A Story from My Sleep

I suppose a little explanation might be in order. The day prior to this write-up, I had just ended a graveyard shift. I managed a two-hour nap before I had to meet a friend for tea. Several cups of tea later (heavily-caffeinated, year-aged stuff), I dropped her at her second locale. The friends there - a charming couple - were also homebrewers and still had some of their self-made IPA on tap. Three pints, some “Afro Samurai”, and copious amounts of water later, I returned home. It was about 7PM-ish. I finally crashed around 8.

Four hours later, I awoke. The dream I had was another one of “those”. From time to time, I dream in story form. As in, I’m not the main character, and it follows a linear plot. Thus far I’ve cataloged…oh…six or so. I’ve had three in the last two weeks.

The one you are about to read, I have no excuse for. Perhaps a steady diet of Dos Equis “Most Interesting Man in the Universe” commercials, sleep deprivation, and Google hits to pornstars named “Joe” are to blame. I haven’t a clue…and frankly, I don’t want one. It’s glorious.

MARSHALL JOE

“He preceded his reputation because it wasn’t fast enough.”

“He found the original Writer’s Block and chiseled an image in his likeness.”

“He rediscovered magic in order to light a cigar.”

These are a few of the tall tales ascribed to Joseph Noble; philanthropist, ethnographer, adventurer, writer…pornstar.

The world simply knows him as “Marshall Joe”.

Although he looked rather average, plain he wasn’t. Born into a life of privilege, the son of a brilliant industrialist, and raised on a near-mythical private island - dubbed “Marshall Stallion” by his father, after his wild horse commune - young Joe grew weary of everything coming easy to him. Education, games of chance, women, there was nothing that he couldn’t attain. He simply believed things were easy and they were. That striving to outdo himself became his only weakness, for he was never satisfied.

He set out to prove or disprove myths and legends as a means of stumping his good fortune. Nothing succeeded. While the amount of legends was innumerable, any he turned his attention to were either revealed, debunked, or exploited. Usually to the betterment of humankind.

He successfully traversed the Bermuda Triangle, then later built a beach house on it. By hand.

Atlantis? It became the first underwater casino - the profits of which went to combating world hunger.

When adventures rooted in Old World mythology proved too pedestrian, Joe turned to the more esoteric; such as discovering the lost Mudworm People of the Midwest. A tribe of Minnesotan settlers-turned-aborigines that lived among (and fed off of) giant-sized worms. He lived among them for a week, even adopted a mudworm as a pet.

As his fame grew, so did the need to capture his likeness on camera. Too bad every actor in existence paled in comparison to the actual man. Hollywood blockbusters made about him starred him. Even the inevitable pornographic parody of his exploits featured him in the title role. It became the first crossover hit since Deep Throat.

Still nothing could quench his thirst.

Then an opportunity came from the last place he ever thought to look - the island of his youth. Rumor had it that Noble MetaWorks, the company his father built from the ground up, was involved in the cocaine trade. Not just any cocaine, but powder chased with a rare mineral compound - native to the island - that instilled a state of pure bliss. Describing the experience as a “high” simply didn’t do it justice, it was like being spanked by Buddha himself, then tossed back to reality…naked. Inevitably, addicts committed suicide, but the market was on the rise. Joe had to put a stop to it.

On his return to Marshall Stallion Island, Joe personally oversaw the day-to-day operations of the company, all the while keeping his eyes and ears open for any hint of a hidden drug lab or mining operation. As he dug further, flashbacks from his childhood grew more prevalent. Joe recalled a time - around five years of age - when he discovered a lone robot on the beach. Big head, bug-like eyes, E.T.-ish. For the longest time he thought it only a childlike fantasy.

Until he saw it again.

The robot led him to a series of mini-mineshafts, operated by small men - shadow-black in color, glowing white eyes. Human-sized derricks burrowed into the ground, unearthing something that glowed. He remembered these from his childhood as well. The largest he dubbed “Old Smokey”. The shadowy natives - Little Smokeys. His old memories were coming back to him.

Until he was knocked on conscious.

Joe awoke the next day, covered in white powder, dumped in a cheap motel room, his name on the evening news, and his company under investigation. Overnight, his godlike reputation came a-crashin’. Brow-beaten, downtrodden, broke-as-a-joke, the immortal Joseph Noble finally knew failure.

Like that would stop him, though.

With a renewed sense of purpose, Joe strives to uncover the mystery of Marshall Stallion Island, uproot the drug conspiracy that tarnished his good name, and perhaps seduce a henchwoman or two.

For Marshall Joe only knew failure so success could be that much more sweet.

Tags: adventurer, ethnographer, Joe, philanthropist, pornstar, writer