Hound55

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

It's not the future. Batman was active years pre-game and now we have Terry.

Rogue Continuum [CLOSED PENDING REBOOT]

I come out and say I don't have time for this and then Byrd comes along and lights the Presidential Signal and leaves me considering rolling out Kennedy again...

Rogue Continuum [CLOSED PENDING REBOOT]

I want 7 Spider-Men and an Iron Patriot...

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

I had some ideas to bring other former Charlton characters into the game as supporting NPCs, but Captain Atom wouldn't mesh well with the Question so I was planning on leaving him out.

@Simple Unicycle

Heh. Don't rush me.

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

M A N H A T T A N , N E W Y O R K

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^{Less Than A Week Later | I Really Don’t Know How Much More Plainly I Can Put It… Manhattan, New York}

Ted looked to his left at the two people by his side, he looked to his right at the other four.

So this was it, huh? This was the next level of insanity in his life.

New York state senator Henry Knight was almost finished delivering his speech, to his left Max Lord was starting to get antsy, stepping back and forth from the line in anticipation of giving his own speech. It was starting to become more difficult to find a politician to put his reputation on the line for such an announcement, they had been very lucky to find Senator Knight.

Senator Knight finished talking and the crowd started to applaud. Maxwell Lord stepped forward, shook the Senator by the hand and smiled for a photo op, before taking to the podium himself. In the crowd, Senator Knight’s daughter applauded and beamed with enthusiasm. Mainly for the women standing to his right, it had been a common reaction which Ted had found – women thrilled for more positive role models in the hero community in light of accusations towards Wonder Woman and the subsequent investigation. Janet and Bea basked in the limelight as was to be expected, and even Tora enjoyed the more intimate moments when she’d meet with a young fan. Ted couldn’t help but feel pride over the fact he’d been able to help make all of this happen.

The investigation into the MSF Crisis in New York had brought some of his actions to light. They connected him to his message which had been sent out to all towers across New York City, his swift action which had diverted the signal to a single tower to help limit damage, and that he was behind the towers ultimately being shut down at the end. It took him some time to realise what was happening, but he began to discover that certain political elements were trying to publicly attribute as much positive action on that day to the very human Blue Beetle, whilst negative acts seemed to be deflected onto Wonder Woman, Captain America and metahuman elements on the day.

They had wheeled out the small girl whom he had helped save, and made a public spectacle of her. Very little was made of the words she had to say about the Spider-Man and the X-Men member known as Nightcrawler, substantially more was made of the fact that she was returned to her family in his Bug, by him personally. It had taken the Blue Beetle going to the media himself to mention the heroic endeavours of Nightcrawler and Spider-Man which were responsible for her safely getting to the Bug in the first place, but even then, networks often tried to twist the narrative in editorials.

It disgusted him. He was riding high on a wave of popularity, generated by those looking to use him as a blade to carve up a segment of the community that they didn’t like. It had only furthered his conviction for this. Steeled his resolve. Proved how necessary this idea really was.

“—which is why, in light of recent events, Super Buddies Inc are proud to bring you ‘The Embassy’ and can finally announce that we are OPEN FOR BUSINESS!”

Maxwell Lord used a large novelty pair of scissors to cut a large red ribbon in front of the gate. The other 6 didn’t miss their cue and stepped forward to wave to the crowd.

“So, would you lovely ladies like me to show you around the compound?” Max asked.

“Ted already showed us around earlier in the week, once construction was completed.” Tora replied.

“Let me put it this way… Would you lovely ladies like me to show you around the compound and make realistic surprised reaction-shots, whilst this camera crew from MTV’s Cribs follows us around?”

Bea and Janet rushed forward in front of Tora and peeled off two or three different surprised or stunned expressions.

“Yes! …Yes! …mmm—maybe next time.” Max Lord said, pointing from Janet, to Bea and finally wincing before turning down Tora who had made no effort to pose.

The three rushed forward with the camera crew as the gates opened. Ted turned and watched the man in red pick up a small girl onto his shoulders. Hank awkwardly turned and walked towards the gates, Ted threw an arm around his friend – he was clearly struggling with the very public nature of all of this – and took Tora by the hand as they stepped through to their new lives.

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T H E A B O D E O F T E D K O R D

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^{Months Ago, Just After the Conclusion of the Crisis | Boston, Massachusetts}

Ted staggered around his Boston home, picking up comics and action figures, the detritus of an obsolete metamorphosis. The Beetle was dead, it’s limbs in the telltale death throes within its shell.

He’d shot him. Right in front of the world.

And Ted had seen an angle the cameras and reporters hadn’t.

Just before the shot heard around the world he saw murder in the Princess’ eyes.

As bad as Captain America’s action was, he could see it for what it was. Saving their kind from a worse fate.

A sacrifice play of its own kind. But that couldn’t justify the act, surely? That-- That wasn’t what they were. All they could be.

He dumped the books, the toys; the paper, the plastic into a cardboard box. He kicked the box around his house, filling it with the dreams of a naïve little boy. The kid who didn’t understand how the world worked.

The box was getting heavy with hopes, too heavy to toe-poke around carpeted floor anymore. Now he had to lug it. He carried it to his lounge room, next to his TV. He quickly flicked an assortment of superhero DVDs in the box, picking them out expertly, as only one who spends far too much time perfectly organizing his collection can. Then he moved on to the mantle. The two perspex display boxes.

A model car, and a perfectly azure Egyptian artefact.

The two scarabs left to him by his uncle.

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T H E K O R D R E S I D E N C E

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^{Years Earlier, Christmas Day | Boston, Massachusetts}

It was a white Christmas in Boston, which was rarer than you might think. The Kord boys were preparing for a visit from Ted’s favourite uncle. Dan Garrett.

TV and movie superstar Dan Garrett. Jet-setting archaeologist Dan Garrett. Professor and former police officer Dan Garrett.

Basically, the coolest guy in the world.

“Ted! Get the table set! I can’t get everything done myself!”

Ted had zoned out in front of the TV, he was watching an old episode of the Blue Beetle Power Hour. The tape had been played so often static formed on the edges of the television when he played it.

“Ted! Earth to Ted!” Ted snapped back to reality. “Come on, Ted, shut that off. David’s coming too, you know how he got when you played that last time he came down…”

“Oh. OK. Why’d he get like that last time?” The young boy asked, picking up the remote.

“I don’t know. But that’s exactly the kind of question you’re not going to ask when he comes over. They’re family, we’re having Christmas, and we’re going to make sure everybody is welcome. Right?”

“Yes, Dad.” Ted said, waiting for the final Blue Beetle punch and miming a punch of his own, as the onomatopoeic cue card flashed across the screen, followed by the poor late 60’s “frozen” visual effects of cheap plastic wrapping. As the Blue Beetle’s sidekick, the brightly coloured Nature Boy, put the knocked out goons on ice. Ted stopped the tape and turned off the TV. He walked to the kitchen and picked up the plates to set up the dinner table just as the doorbell rang.

His father answered the door, whilst Ted quickly hurried to set the table.

“Hello Dan, and Merry Christmas, David!” He heard his father greet them at the door.

“Uncle Dan!”

“Heeeeey Sparky! How’ve you been, Ted?” He picked the younger Kord up after he reached out for his uncle once he’d come running.

“Great! School’s out, I’ve been working on a go-cart, but it’s been too cold out to test. Oh, and a potato gun that can fire right over the house!” Once Ted was put down he used hand gestures to mime the projectile flying past overhead.

Blood runs down a metal confined face. Reporters gasp.

“Which you will not be using again!” Said Thomas Kord. “After the neighbourhood came to an accord, and forgave Mr Nicholas’ window…”

“Which I will not be using again…” Ted said, dropping his head, before peeking up and giving a cheeky smirk to his uncle.

“Ah-huh…” Said Dan, not believing for a second that it would be the last he heard about the potato gun.

“Ted, how about you go play with David?”

Ted masked his disappointment at not getting to keep talking with his uncle. He’d just put out a new movie, Karl LaFrey and the Plunderers of the Ark of the Covenant, which Ted had begged and scrounged enough money together to see 9 times at the cinema, including the two occasions he’d successfully managed to beg out of his father. It was considerably more successful than the tv series, had sequels planned and was even generating Academy Awards buzz. It had been Dan’s attempt to drag himself out of being seen as a typecast camp tv star, into an even more typecast tv and film star. Which is what tends to happen when you choose to play a character of the same name across both mediums. Ted had ample questions. “Where was Nature Boy?”, “Why no Bee-tle-si dance?”, “Where did the bright costumes go?” amongst others. But he knew David was sensitive about these things, particularly about asking the Nature Boy question, so Ted grabbed him by the hand and led him off to his room.

“Come on, David. Let’s go play!” Ted led the quiet young boy away.

“Egg nog?” Asked Thomas.

“Please. Pass the brandy.” Dan slumped into a recliner.

“That kind of a year, huh?”

Dan flashed his eyes as if to respond with “You don’t know the half of it.”

“Running around shoots, playing to studio heads schedules, PR work, dragging the kid around whilst I’m doing it… I figured when I’d be producing my own movie I’d be able to set my own hours which work better for me, but the extra hours work counter all of that.”

“You think it’s good for him? David, I mean.” Thomas asked, giving him a tall mug.

Dan took a long draw. “I’m starting to wonder. I mean, first I thought, ‘Sure. Why wouldn’t it be? Ted would love that kind of stuff.’ He can’t get enough of it. Great kid. But then, with some of how he was handling the show. I mean that’s why I didn’t push him into the movie stuff. It was too big an ask for him. But you’ve seen him. He’s sad all of the time. Morose. And I can’t get him to break out of that funk. Teacher’s say he can be moody sometimes. And then there’s the episodes…”

Thomas nodded, slowly working on his own drink.

“Still. It’ll be better this year. It’s one of my mandated gap-years. No shoots. I can trickle through PR work here and there. I’ve got a dig planned out south of Cairo this year. There’ll be more down time. I’m bringing his tutor and nanny, and the four of us are going to trek around Northern Africa on holiday for about a month and a half as well.”

“So to a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, then?” Thomas held out his mug, to clink, which Dan obliged and then checked the contents.

“Oh… I’ve finished mine.”

“It’s alright. There’s plenty more.” Thomas grabbed the empty mug and started walking to the kitchen, when they heard yelling and a brewing commotion coming from Ted’s room. The two adults rushed over.

“Alright, alright, wot’s all this going on in here, then?” The worldly Garrett asked, poking his head around the door and nailing a stereotypical British bobby accent.

“I don’t know. We were playing, and then he went up to some of my figures and started wigging out and breaking stuff!” Ted called back.

David was quiet, sullen, and had two figurines in balled up fists as he sat on the bed.

“Ah Hell. Sorry Tom. I think we’d better be heading home…”

“No!” Ted cried. “You barely got here!”

“I’ll tell you what, Sparky. You can get your present early, just give me a moment to go get it.”

Dan worked on gently trying to get David to respond, let go of the figures and get off of the bed. After a while he asked Thomas if he would have any better luck whilst he went and got Ted his present.

“Sorry we’ve got to duck out so soon, Ted. But I had to see the look on your face when you cracked this open.” He reached down and grabbed a box from under the tree, one handed but gently holding it longwise.

Ted looked at it, and then looked up at his uncle. The box was about handspan width and breadth, and just over a foot long in length. The wrapped box held boundless promise. It could have been anything.

“Well? Go on, Sparky.”

He tore at the paper, giving that boundless promise a singular form, as the box’s reality took shape.

“It’s… the Scarab! Oh man! Oh, this is awesome!”

“I got told it’s a 1:20 replica of the real thing I drove around in.” Dan smiled, seeing the joy in Ted’s eyes.

“Crazy. We used to call these things ‘toy cars’, now it’s all ‘collectible replica models’. Now you have fun with that thing, yeah?”

“Oh-ho, you bet!” Ted replied.

Dan tussled the shaggy bed of auburn hair on Ted’s head, which made him flinch and close his eyes, perfectly setting him up for the sleight of hand which came next. Dan brought his hand up behind the small child and dropped a fedora on the young boy’s head. He stepped back with a smile.

Ted felt the strange weight on his head, and the far too big hat dropped over his eyes. He took it off to reveal the obstruction and gasped.

“Costuming had three. I asked and they let me have this one. Merry Christmas, Sparky.” He said with a wink.

“So did you see it?”

Thomas started to walk young David Crandall back through this house, having started to settle.

“Did I see it? I saw it nin--” Ted stopped as he saw his father. “I saw it two or three times. You know, a sensible number of times.”

“Ah-huh…” Dan replied, knowing full well what that really meant. “And what did you think?”

“What did I think?” Ted had a hundred questions, but seeing his cousin David and his state, made the young boy censor himself for a question he felt would be somewhat appropriate to ask. “I thought it was great! I did have one question though…”

“Shoot, kiddo. What did you want to know?”

The sound of a single shot. Blood runs down a metal confined face. Reporters gasp.

“You know that scene, where Karl was running from all those guys in Tunisia, and that one guy with the sword came out, and he was waving his sword all around, showing off like, and then Karl just pulled out a gun and shot him. Why’d he do that? Karl was never shooting people in the tv series.”

“Ah!” Dan said, taking a knee to get himself closer to Ted’s height. “That came about because the studio heads wanted to make sure the movie audience knew ‘This was not your father’s Karl LaFrey’. That he wasn’t going to behave exactly the same as the Blue Beetle in the TV series. It’s the same reason they use his given name instead of Blue Beetle in the title.”

“But I love the tv series!”

“I know you do, kiddo. But the studio heads felt they had to make a statement early in the series. They mandated it. Good news is though, writers can do just about anything now though, with the success of the first one. Maybe one day you can write us a way to take down the bad guys without killing them.” He winked as he got back to his feet and was about tl leave. Ted waved.

He looked up.

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T H E A B O D E O F T E D K O R D

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^{Back to Only a Few Months Ago, Just After the Conclusion of the Crisis | Boston, Massachusetts}

Ted looked up from the car and the blue artefact. Two scarabs of a Beetle past.

He put them back on the mantle. Tears had been streaming down his face.

As he snapped back to reality he could hear the television was on. He looked down to his hip. He drew his B.B. gun.

The television was playing earlier footage from Wonder Woman’s hearing at Washington D.C. Minutes before she’d dropped everything to engage the Crisis.

"The real purpose of this committee is to control heroes and metahumans. Your country's attempts on the previous generations have failed. Now, they have decided to set up this committee to make all of you find the answer. However, this generation of heroes is unlike any that I have ever seen. I've read the writing on the wall. They'll resist your country's attempts at controlling their lives. They'll band together and show the entire world that their powers are meant to protect and defend. Instead of giving in to your hatred, this new generation will only become stronger."

Diana turned around and looked at the people, some of them had their phones out to film her. "I know that I haven't been a perfect role model for them or the whole world. And I have disappointed many of them recently. That's how I know the heroes of today and tomorrow will make me proud. They'll be better than me. They'll become everything the heroes of the past stood for. Now, I have a city to save."

Be better. Be more.

The writers can do just about anything. Maybe one day... take down the bad guys without killing them.

He looked down at his B.B gun. He’d done it. He’d found a way to make a difference without ever needing to kill.

And then when he lost it, he was able to do it again with nothing but a circuit board, a soldering iron, a hotel hairdryer and a shitload of caulk.

Tears dried on his cheeks within the cowl. He sniffed deeply.

“Ah shit… what the Hell am I even doing here?” He chuckled at himself over how ridiculous this all was.

He’d found a way to better the world and he was going to drop everything because the people before him had made mistakes?

No. We’ve got a new Blue Beetle and the writing’s fixed.

Using his glove he remote-started the engines to the Bug. Within fifteen minutes he was amongst the relief effort digging through the debris of the Empire State Building.

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

Looking forward to reading stuff from the new characters on the block...

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

The Inimitable...

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L

THE BLUE BEETLE

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:

T E D K O R D ♦ E N G I N E E R / V I G I L A N T E / H E R O / C . E . O / B L O C K B U S T E R M O V I E M E M B E R
♦ B O S T O N , K . O . R . D E A S T D I V I S I O N / “ T H E E M B A S S Y “ , M A N H A T T A N , N E W Y O R K
♦ K O R D O M N I V E R S A L R E S E A R C H & D E V E L O P M E N T / S U P E R B U D D I E S

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“My greatest strength is an unfocused mind. This is because while you are all thinking of one idea, I’m thinking of five different ideas. My greatest weakness however is an unfocused mind. This is because while I’m supposed to be thinking about one thing, I’m actually thinking of five other things.”

---

Theodore Stephen KORD
5’11”, 184lbs (Don't judge!)
Born: Charlton, Massachussetts (July 4, 1997)
Graduated: Worcester Polytechnic Institute B.S. Degree in Chemical Engineering, Ph. D degree in Aeronautical engineering, Ph. D in Electrical Engineering, B.S. Degrees in Robotics and Mechanical Engineering
Head of Kord Omniversal Research & Development (the company his father founded has 3 locations - K.O.R.D West Division located in Pasadena, California, K.O.R.D Central based out of Chicago and K.O.R.D East Division located in Boston where Thomas Kord first started the company)
Field Leader and Founding Member of the Superbuddies. A team of heroes brought together to do good, and to better human/metahuman relations by showing just what can be achieved through collaborative efforts between the two.

---

A prodigious mind, but flighty and prone to getting himself into trouble, Ted Kord excelled at virtually anything that he enjoyed and put his effort towards. Science, gymnastics, soccer and baseball, with the world in the palm of his hand Ted Kord could do it all and do it all with a smile on his face and laughter in his heart. His life took a sharp turn however, when he was expelled in his senior year of high school due to his involvement in a scandal which saw two thirds of a class cheat their way to perfect scores in major Physics and Mathematics exams. Knowing that his own grades for the year were sufficient to have already graduated, he refused to roll over and snitch out his friend Carter Johns – the one responsible for selling the tests throughout the class.

But whilst his grades were good enough already to have graduated with flying colours, M.I.T did not respond well to news of his expulsion, nor the manner in which it took place.

Some months later, after a number of phone calls and a hefty donation from Kord Omniversal founder and C.E.O Thomas Kord, and Ted was enrolled to local engineering college Worcester Polytechnic.

Given the opportunity to continue his learning, Ted excelled even further in the less structured college environment where he could focus more on endeavours of his own choosing. He swiftly blew through a degree in Aeronautical engineering, having always looked to the stars with wonder and discovered how much easier the college system suited him. Enrolling further in a number of other engineering courses to be one of the more rounded young scientific minds in the world.

But something was missing from the young man’s life.

Ted was on a mission for knowledge, viewing it as the ends rather than the means until he met another scientist named Hank Pym at a symposium in New York. But Pym wasn’t the catalyst for change so much as a mirror to help see himself better through.

The catalyst was a young man in a black suit slinging some kind of organic strand-like webbing substance, who swept through in pursuit of another man. @DocTachyon

The two scientists bonded over how this young new superhero they witnessed could possibly be doing the things he was doing ("It's obvious! A spray dispersal system that fires a resin polymer over a chemical silly-string like chain, solidifying it in the process!" "Are you kidding me? It's clearly some kind of fluid that solidifies on contact with the air!" "Maybe it's actually organic... you know? Maybe it's actually something he secretes inside of him, from in his actual wrists?" "Yeah, sure, whatever. And maybe it's Maybelline..." "..." "..." "BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"), and potential mechanical devices that could mimic his amazing movements and feats of agility, speed and strength. The pair exchanged email addresses and Ted had found what his life had been missing for years. The spark. The joy and wonder from his old high school days.

But this was more than just nostalgia. This was a new path.

“Screw the family business. I want to be one of those guys…”

C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:

Last season was the story of a brilliant, yet flawed young man finally finding a path and slowly discovering his potential despite himself.

This season will see him coming to terms with relying on teammates and people around him on this new team that he has formed, and will also deal with the notions of “family” and “legacy”.

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:

Character and Equipment

Character and Equipment:

Ted Kord – Good natured and affable, unfocused yet brilliant. Ted Kord possesses an eidetic and photographic memory, the ability to demonstrate great logic and deductive reasoning and a love of film (particularly Bond and Mission: Impossible movies). Ted was a gymnast in high school (and a few pounds lighter, but hey, who’s judging…) which plays a heavy factor in his agility based hand-to-hand fighting style.

The Bug – Originally designed by Ted as a prototype for potential space travel (young Ted set his mind to Mars as NASA first began sending probes and rovers) it has since been repurposed for his foray into superheroics. Mimicking the series Star Trek: Enterprise, Ted found a way to provide shielding by magnetizing the airship’s hull. He also found ways to electrify the outer shell to protect it from unwanted boarders. Capable of withstanding the pressures of the deepest sea trench or space travel, the mostly solar-powered Bug is at the bleeding edge of modern crimefighting vehicular technology and Ted’s pride and joy. It’s also controllable by remote, capable of flying or hovering on auto-pilot without Ted needing to be at the helm.

The BB gun – Ted’s primary defensive weapon, the BB gun is capable of emitting either a blinding flash of light, a strong compressed air blast, or a single five second deafening sonic screech. The BB gun is also powered by solar charged battery cells that Ted keeps on his person.

Ted also has access to a ridiculous array of self-invented gadgetry and gimmicks, although most are limited in use and would require the foresight and planning to bring them to utilize.

The Superbuddies

The Superbuddies

Maxwell Lord – A former CEO for a Fortune 500 pharmaceutical company, Maxwell Lord acts as a figurehead organizational leader planted by Ted Kord as a front for explaining where the money has come from in return for a share of the revenue streams. Unscrupulous and money-grubbing by nature, he can be quite a stringent taskmaster in keeping the team on mission to preserve their brand as heroes which makes up his mealticket.


The Wasp – Owner of her own fashion label, when Janet Van Dyne discovered that Ted was engaging in activities as Boston’s latest hero The Blue Beetle she became enamoured with the swashbuckling romantic connotations of the hero life. Outfitted by her husband Hank Pym, who is one of the foremost geniuses in the modern world the Wasp packs a wallop that belies her diminutive size when in costume.


Hank Pym – Generally introverted and reclusive, Hank Pym also has numerous mental issues and social disorders which often cause troubles in his own life and for those who care about him. He very much loves Janet though and has joined the team out of a feeling of necessity. Even though this will actually mean occasionally dealing with people and spending less time at work in his lab. Might just be the smartest person in the world.


Ice – Tora Olafsdotter was formerly a security officer for a branch of S.H.I.E.L.D known as the Global Guardians, who dealt with providing security for foreign dignitaries and private citizens of international importance. She also happens to be Ted’s girlfriend. And a metahuman. Which is not why he dated her. I mean, not that that would be an issue for him not to either. Because he is not a bigot. She is cute, looks amazing in a cocktail dress, and can tolerate Ted’s more irritating quirks which previously subjected him to the single life (which may be a metahuman power in and of itself…). Ted has zero complaints.


Fire – Beatriz Da Costa was Tora’s best friend and almost like a bigger sister for her when the two worked previously for the Global Guardians. She barely tolerates Ted and trusts that this whole thing will soon end once Tora comes to her senses, sees him for the geeky dork he is and dumps him for someone better suited to her. She is extremely open and comfortable with her own body and sensuality, which makes Ted wrap a towel around himself anytime the team uses the on-site pool. She is extremely protective of Tora. At this point Ice is the only reason she’s wasting her time with this whole superhero charade.

Peripheral NPC characters this season:

"Sunspot"
"Dan Garrett"
"Scott Lang"
"Cassie Lang"
"Abner Jenkins"
"Melissa “Mimi/Mims” Gold-Jenkins"
Other characters which are already intrinsically linked to K.O.R.D. in the comics.

S E A S O N O N E S Y N O P S I S :

Season One Synopsis

No sooner had Stark Industries unveiled the Iron Man suit, than Tony Stark announced it was not for sale. Spiking demand for a product that would not be available on the market. Tech giants scrambled, seeing a rare hole in the market. Kord Omniversal Research and Development had a unique problem.

In their B.E.E.T.L.E suit, a high-tech suit designed for exploration in hostile environments, on this world and off it, remained the leading example of similar technology, but its C.E.O Ted Kord refused to push it to market. Objecting to pivoting into a role as a weapons manufacturer on moral grounds.

The suit’s designer, K.O.R.D’s Chief Financial Officer Abner Jenkins, sensing he was not getting any younger and seeing a way he could cash in on his life’s greatest piece of work was driven to seeing K.O.R.D take it to market by any means necessary. Aided by an unknown ally, Jenkins organized an attempt to steal the B.E.E.T.L.E suit at the New York Science Expo by having false information leaked about it being the upcoming flagship product for Kord Omniversal which he would then be able to very publicly thwart, displaying its value and forcing Ted Kord’s hand.

Unfortunately, Ted Kord also had his own plans. Using an all-terrain space craft and numerous tech-based gadgets of his own design, Ted Kord has been moonlighting as Boston’s new hero the Blue Beetle – the eponymous hero of a 1960s television series starring Dan Garrett.

When the thieves, a group of Madison Avenue advertising workers led by Farley Fleeter and naming themselves the Madmen, made a move on the B.E.E.T.L.E they were not only facing down Abner Jenkins in the suit. Also on the scene were the Blue Beetle and a pair of security workers for the organization known as the Global Guardians operating under the names of Green Flame and Ice Maiden. When the smoke cleared, the Blue Beetle was not only able to incapacitate the Madmen, he also successfully captured Jenkins in the B.E.E.T.L.E suit and handed him off to the local New York police.

He also found himself falling ass-backwards into a relationship with Ice, otherwise known as Tora Olafsdotter.

It also saw him form a new idea. An idea that would see him change his Blue Beetle solo act, to an ensemble – a hero team.

Working with a variety of different heroes types, both young and old, under heavy fire in New York’s recent Crisis Ted’s thoughts on what a hero should be have been shaped by those around him who he has come across in his life. Whether they wear a labcoat, wings, or shroud themselves in flame.

S A M P L E P O S T:

Sample Post

So, it’s true confessions time I guess…

I never really studied in high school. Ever, if I’m being honest. I never really had to. I read the text books that we were given for the standard curriculum at the start of the term. Tests would come. And every page of every text book was just sitting right there. In my head.

I mean that’s not the sum total of schooling, let’s be honest. Rote memorization. You have to come to terms with the concepts that the class deals with that are inside the books. But when you can just recall everything and anything that the class is dealing with, the second you turn your test sheet over… you don’t really ever need to pay too much attention in class.

So you drift. Your focus waxes and wanes. You become a dreamer. A class clown. Anything to ease off the monotony of those classes which hold you captive from 9 til 3.

Instead of listening to how the mitochondria are the powerhouse of the cell, which you read about as soon as you got your books, you’re sketching a spaceship that will one day take you beyond the moon. The spaceship that will make you the first man on that red planet, from this blue one which has been sending probes and rovers over for exploratory purposes since the day you were born.

You drew sketches of yourself in the James Bond suit and tie, holding that trademark Bond pose with the Walther PPK skyward.

…and little do you know that the reason you’re wearing a suit before your 23rd birthday has nothing to do with neither space travel, nor espionage.

You’re sitting in the seat your father vacated. The business and the world he left for you early. And still you drift.

But the craft that sits in the covered hanger, recessed into the roof of the Kord Tower isn’t a dream. And neither is the other suit that hangs in your wardrobe. The one you never tell people about.

“Well, if we’re done here ladies and gentlemen. I think we’ll call it a day.”

P O S T C A T A L O G U E:

1. “I mean, even if we don’t have a product here, we could send that in and get $500 off of America’s Funniest Home Videos…”
2. He grabbed his sky wire and looked down the hatch at the lights of the city and rooftops far below. “Well, if I screw this next bit up, at least I won’t have to worry about what I’m going to do for long…”
3. “Whoa! No-no-no-no-no-no… Don’t want to do-- wait… do I?” Ted thought for a beat. “No. Lucrative as that side of robotics may well be… let’s leave that to more… driven men. Shower, delete preference profile ‘looking for a good time’.”
4. “See!” He pointed at her. “Still the boss! Respect commanded!” The elevator door opened. He walked in and turned around. “Now please call ahead so that I can see the Research and Development engineers in my Research and Development company...” He called back to Angela as the elevator doors closed.
5. “I just realized this is the most I’ve been able to speak to a fellow scientist’s wife or girlfriend at one of these events without either her eyes completely glazing over, or outright running away and going to talk with Tony Stark instead…”
6. “Yeah, you know how it is, Hank. All these kids out there these days… All hopped out of their gourds on... Fizz.”
7. “I’m not going to kill him, Jeremiah.” He mumbled whilst deep in facepalm. “I might shave him bald and feed him each of his $5,000 suits, and the expensive Italian loafers he purchased with his undeserved senior executive salary, garnishing it generously with his own hair… but I’m not going to kill him.”
7b. Back-end of Blue Beetle/Spider-Man crossover courtesy of @DocTachyon
8. Tora nodded, and straightened up, hands on her hips. “I should get out of here. Make sure we get your B.B. Suit clear from when the police get here and do their sweep. Did I say that right?”
“No, it doesn’t work like that. B.B. gun is a play on words. You know ‘Pew! Pew!’ like the kid’s toy?” Ted said, making finger-guns.
9. “How do you even put a thing like that on? I mean it looks like it’d hurt your neck anyway, but... Oh he’s wearing gloves! Well that makes sense. You wouldn't put a helmet like that on without gloves…”
10. “That’d be right. You drive around in a hotrod like this, all of a sudden you’ve got every two-bit wallcrawler out to make a buck stepping off the curb in front of you to drop a lawsuit.”
10b. Crisis/Event Spider-man/Blue Beetle team-up courtesy of @DocTachyon
10c. Crisis/Event Spider-Man/Blue Beetle team-up courtesy of DocTachyon
10d. Crisis/Event Spider-Man/Blue Beetle team-up courtesy of DocTachyon
10e. Crisis/Event
10f. Crisis/Event Culmination - Captain America/Wonder Woman/Arsenal/Blue Beetle team-up courtesy of @Lord Wraith, @Webboysurf and @Star Lord
Epilogue. “Just-- please don’t destroy the universe. It has all of my stuff in it and I just got it how I like it.” Ted facepalmed.

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

Booster Gold Appears Courtesy of @HenryJonesJr!

M A N H A T T A N , N E W Y O R K

---

^{Less Than A Week Later | I Really Don’t Know How Much More Plainly I Can Put It… Manhattan, New York}

Tora Olafsdotter and Beatriz da Costa strolled down 9th Avenue on a brand new day. This part of the city was slowly being repaired from the more cosmetic damages sustained from the recent disaster. It had avoided the worst of it. Nonetheless, glaziers’, hardware and paint stores’ business was booming.

“All I’m asking is that you give him a chance!” Tora exclaimed.

Bea looked nonplussed. “You keep saying that. I’m just saying, he’s not terribly impressive.”

“Back on this again…” Tora soured.

Bystanders watched the pair pass, Bea was dressed in a crop top and tight green pants that accentuated her striking green hair. Tora was dressed in a royal blue blouse, that played to the bright New York day. The pair looked fine, but it was Bea who caught the eye of most male passers by.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” She said.

“It’s not all about how he looks. There’s more to him than that.”

“I’d certainly hope so. Otherwise your entire argument is a doughy, short, geeky nerdboy with a horrible Baaawwwston accent.”

“I think he’s cute…”

“You would…”

“He’s trying…”

“And that’s the best thing you can say about him! He’s a trier. A lot of people try. It doesn’t mean anything good is going to come out of it.”

Tora looked hurt. “Bea, please…” She looked up at her larger Brazilian friends with big sad eyes.

“Oh don’t look at me like-- damn. Alright. We’ll give him a chance. Just… stop whining about him. It’s beneath you. HE’S beneath you.”

“Thank you!” She exclaimed, surprised that Bea had given in to her demands. “You won’t regret this!”

“I almost certainly will…” Bea replied. “...but I’m not used to you actually digging your heels in to get what you want. It’s thrown me all off balance.”

Tora bounced over and hugged Bea.

“Alright, alright… I just don’t get why it has to be THIS nerdboy. Give me another week and I think I could have brought Tony Stark to his knees…” Bea flashed her eyes provocatively.

“Eww…”

“You keep saying that, but THERE’S a man…” She licked her lips. “He’s clearly been around the block a few times, and I’m sure he could show you a thing or two you haven’t seen before. Maybe even me.”

“But he’s so disgusting!” Tora winced.

“Pfft. Don’t be such a prude. I trust you won’t begrudge me from going there. We don’t have that job anymore, so it’s no longer unprofessional.” She licked her lips again and sent an onlooking male bystander walking the other way stumbling over some trash cans in the process.

“You wouldn’t!”

“I would shake his world to its very core.” She said, raising her eyebrows to her Scandinavian friend. “And what do you care, so long as it isn’t your doughy Baaawwwston nerdboy?”

“Well, I guess I don’t… I wonder what it was Ted had in mind exactly?”

---

M E T R O P O L I T A N C O R R E C T I O N A L C E N T E R

---

^{- | Manhattan, New York}

Abner Jenkins snatched the cell phone from his cellmate.

“So $20 in commissary?”

“$20 in commissary.” Jenkins confirmed.

Two large inmates stood at the front of the cell as lookouts whilst Abner Jenkins made his call. He dialled a number from memory and waited for the dial tone to end with the person on the other end picking up the call.

“So… How does this change things?”

“You won’t be getting my help.” Abner spoke in hushed tones down the line. “...but I didn’t snitch you out either.”

“So you want just cold off the board? That’s what you’re telling me?” The voice asked.

“It seems fair. All things considered.”

He heard a sigh breathed heavily down the line, which stole his breath as he heard it.

“That’s not really for you to determine though, is it?”

Jenkins pulled the phone away in horror. What had he just set in motion?

“...I’ll tell you what. If you don’t respond, everyone on the outside is off limits. Your wife, distant family, everybody.”

“Respond to what?”

“When it happens, you’ll know.” clik.

The phone had gone dead. “To what? TO WHAT??”

“Hey, Jenkins… Keep it the fuck down! I’ve got a business to run here.” Hissed his cellmate between the two large men.

Abner Jenkins stumbled out of the cell in a daze. Something was going to happen, but what? When? He had a visit from his wife soon, was that it? Should he not go? Was something going to happen to her that he had to ignore?

No. It was unthinkable. Plus, he’d been told that if he didn’t respond to whatever it was his wife and family wouldn’t come to harm. Surely that implied that it wasn’t about Mimi. Right? Didn’t it?

Nevertheless it would be a difficult wait, dwelling on all of the worst things that might possibly come to fruition.

“Jenkins! Visitor!”

Or maybe not...

---

H O M E W O O D S U I T E S B Y H I L T O N N Y / M I D T O W N

---

^{- | Midtown Manhattan, New York}

Ted put his shoes on and checked his tie and suit in the mirror. He left money for room service and a note for Rosita on the table in his hotel room, and stepped out into the hallway. The Star Trek intercom sound signalled a message on his phone, he pulled his phone out and checked it as he stepped into the elevator.

It was from Janet Van Dyne.

“Need to talk. Are you free?”

Ted stepped out of the elevator once he hit the lobby, waved to Julia who was back to working the check-in desk, and dialled Janet.

“You’re free to talk?”

“I’m walking in public, so I might not say a whole lot. But I can hear you fine. What did you need to tell me?”

Ted heard a deep sigh down the phone line.

“We have more news on the whole Scott Lang thing.” ^{“Be careful how you tell him, Jan!”} He could hear Hank yelling in the background. “I’m telling him now. And yes, he knows you didn’t mean anything by it. It’s Ted. He’s your friend.”

Now it was Ted’s turn to sigh. “What is it?”

“Well, when Hank heard about what you had been doing at nights in Boston - and we’re both really proud of you by the way, we saw what you did in the city… that was really something. You really met Wonder Woman?--”

“Jan…” Ted pushed, getting frustrated.

“Well, that’s part of this whole thing. We’d been talking about how proud we were-- I’d been talking about how proud I was of what you were doing back when you first started. Making a difference… Well, Hank kind of-- you know Hank.”

“Janet, what happened?” Ted begged her to get to the point, pinching the bridge of his nose and wincing as he walked.

“Well, as you know Hank had been off his meds at the time, and I guess he was also kind of jealous about the attention--” ^{“I wasn’t jealous!”} He heard Hank holler in the background. “Well, what was it then if you weren’t jealous?” ^{“Well, you were proud of what he was doing and were impressed by it, so I guess I figured that if you found that impressive--”} “This sounds like jealousy.” ^{“I wasn’t jealous! I just thought you’d like this too! I think! I wasn’t taking my--”} “Oh hush. It’s not important anyway. Long story short, Scott Lang didn’t only steal the… Pym Particles. He also took a prototypical Particle Projector that Hank had developed.”

“Particle Projector? Like with Bigass Bacon?”

“Exactly. Except this one wasn’t just a stationary machine like with bigass bacon.”

Here we go…

“I’m not going to be happy with any of this, am I Jan?”

“Probably not. Ted, it was a suit.”

“ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Pedestrians walked on by. This was New York City. A man screaming in the street was far too mundane to warrant much more. "Pipe down, jackass." Uttered one bystander.

“What’s he doing? What did he say?” Hank walked over and asked Jan.

“He’s just screaming at the moment. I’m not getting any actual words yet.” Hank nodded, accepting it as fact and walked back to his workbench.

“So there’s a person out there who can shrink or grow at will. At the proportions of Bigass Bacon?” Ted thought back to the massive size of the plate of bacon on that day.

“Well, good news, no...” ^{“Did you tell him about the conservation of energy limitations!”} “I’m telling him now!” “Hank said--! Sorry… Hank said the conservation of energy principle should prevent Scott or anyone from growing too big, too fast without preparation, because the human metabolism wouldn’t be able to keep pace operating on that kind of scale. The bigger problem, ironically, should be if he shrinks.”

“Why is that the bigger issue?”

“Well, using the suit he should be able to shrink to sizes that might make him all but impossible to find, and he can also control his own mass. Technically he could potentially make himself an inch tall, and still at his regular mass, making him almost impossible to move since you’d be trying to get purchase on a one inch object at that weight. Shrinky Scott sounds like he’d be a lot trickier to deal with, than if he grew.”

“Except if he grew he could step on me.”

“Well, yes. But not for long. And he’d be tiring himself out trying.”

“I think you have a far different idea of what counts as good news than I do, or you’re struggling with your tone of voice. You’re way too upbeat talking about a criminal trying to step on me.”

“Well, there’s no point getting morbid about this kind of thing. I mean Hank feels terrible.” ^{“Sorry, Ted!”} “He just said that he’s sorry, did you hear that? Negative thoughts aren’t going to help fix this though, are they? Anyway, since this is partly our fault--”

“Partly?!?”

“Partly. You mixed Hank up with all your-- Beetle related hijinks!”

Janet could only hear a muffled yell as Ted had covered the phone mic on his end to cry out in frustration.

“--as I was saying, since this is partly our fault, Hank’s coming up with something now that should let me give you a hand in bringing Scott in. So you won’t be all alone out there. Isn’t that something good? So, silver linings…”

Ted mimed biting the phone in extreme frustration.

“Oh, that reminds me! You didn’t eat any of the Bigass Bacon did you?”

“No, why?”

“Well, I didn’t think so, due to the colossal organ failure that’s been turning up with Hank’s tests.” ^{“Did he?”} “I’m asking him! He said no!” ^{“Oh good! I wouldn’t have thought so, what with the colossal organ failure and everything!”} “Hank, please, I’m still on the phone.” ^“Sorry!” “You see, Hank’s had time to understand how exactly this works in greater detail. As he said, these ‘Pym particles’ they’re sub-atomic particles that are capable of transporting mass. But the thing is, what Hank is doing when he uses one of these particle projectors…”

Ted stopped and leaned against a building in anticipation of the worst possible news, given how this conversation had gone.

“The ‘Pym Particles’ are omnipresent. They’re subatomic particles which exist in all things already. What he’s actually doing is activating those particles which already exist so that they transport vast quantities of mass.”

Ted was still waiting for the punchline. “And?”

“Well, that’s just it. The process with the projector ensures a balanced activation of these ‘Pym particles’ across the whole. But there’s still effects when other things interact with activated Pym Particles. Especially through ingestion and absorption, but also through semi-permeable films, liquids, gases… Bacon grease is a really insidious thing, Ted. You weren’t handling it after the experiment were you?”

Ted thought back. “No.”

“Good. I didn’t think so. Again, because of--”

“The colossal organ failure. Yes, I caught that.”

“Exactly. A swollen stomach… small intestine bursting out of your abdomen… Oesophagus that could expand and crush your own lungs… Bacon grease affected skin sloughing loosely off of your body... Still, no harm, no foul. Just glad you’re alright.”

“So-- so much for feeding the world then, huh?”

“Well, not necessarily. Hank just needs to find a way to restore the activated ‘Pym Particles’ to their natural state, once he’s used them to grow the initial food.”

“So, deactivate them?”

“Well, no. That probably wouldn’t be good either. I mean, these ‘Pym Particles’ are MEANT to be able to transport mass and matter. That’s what they do in nature. Sure not to the exponential degree that we have been using them, but Hank says it likely relieves pressure on a minute scale. So deactivating them completely probably wouldn’t be ideal either.”

“Just-- please don’t destroy the universe. It has all of my stuff in it and I just got it how I like it.” Ted facepalmed.

“Ha!” Jan laughed. “Always the jokester, Ted. Anyway, we’ll see you when you’re here next and we’ll go fix this Scott Lang problem...”

---

M A N H A T T A N , N E W Y O R K

---

^{Earlier, Mid-Crisis | Come on now… Manhattan, New York}

"Booster!" a panicked, electronic-sounding voice echoed through her ears as she began to regain consciousness. "Booster we have arrived!"

Her eyes opened tentatively, revealing the panic that had set into the city around her. She could see people running erratically, looking behind them as they did so. They were escaping something, that much was to be sure. But what? And, more importantly, where the hell was she? More, more importantly, who the hell was she? She had absolutely no recollection of who she was, where she was, or why she was here. That was worrying.

Suddenly, the world in front of her blinked out. The chaotic, yet living, city was replaced with one that was dead. Its buildings crumbled around her. Fire raged across the horizon revealing an apocalyptic hellscape. She turned frantically, searching for any sign of life. Had she just been transported to another world? Was she blinking from one existence to another?

Instead of the panicked citizenry of the last world, the only sign of life she saw here were the bodies that littered the city street. Some were in pieces, others lay under rubble, and some seemed to have been vaporized, leaving nothing but the outline of a person on the street from where something had merely wiped them from existence.

"Booster!"

The call of the voice cleared the vision from her eyes, and she was back in the midst of the earlier chaotic scene. In front of her hovered a shining, golden object. It looked like an egg sitting on a golden pedestal, with a blue, unblinking, electronic eye staring back at her, "Ma'am, we've reached our destination, but it seems we've come at, uh, quite an inopportune time. Shall we assist with the situation?"

She stood up, taking stock of how she felt. Outside of being disoriented, she felt fine. Whatever had happened to her hadn't affected her physically, just mentally. Taking stock of her surroundings, she looked past the fleeing people to see what they were running from. A pack of feral-looking people tore after the innocent ones, ready to tear them limb-from-limb.

"Sure...uhh," she looked at the robot.

"Skeets, ma'am," the robot sounded surprised.

"Skeets? Seriously?" her nose scrunched up. "Whatever. How do we help?"

"Do you not remember?" the blue eye fired a beam towards her, which scanned up and down. "Hm. It seems like our temporal travels have affected your memory. Tap the star on your necklace twice."

Looking down, she saw a blue, metal star handing from a gold chain around her neck. She took two of her fingers and tapped it twice. The star seemed to grow and melt across her body nearly instantly, covering her in a gleaming metal skin of blue and gold. She felt the cool metal climb up her neck and form a visor across her eyes. A heads up display began displaying the vitals of the feral humans approaching, showing that they were being controlled by some unknown force.

"We need to cut those hostiles off from the innocent people," she motioned down the street.

"Very well," Skeets bobbed up and down. "Shall I link up and refresh you on your suits capabilities?"

"Sure thing," she shrugged.

The egg swung around behind her, and she felt the metal on her back reconfigure as a port for the device. It hooked up, and instantly she shot up into the air a few feet and hovered there.

"Holy shit I can fly!?" she exclaimed with pure joy.

"You can do much more than that, Booster Gold," Skeets responded as the two of them shot off to intercept the pack of humans.

The pair landed between the pack of aggressors and the innocents. As they did, Booster's hands shot up, and suddenly a force field appeared around the raving group of people. She concentrated and the wall turned into a bubble, encasing them inside. To the AI, she asked, "Okay, any idea where we can put these guys where they're out of the
way?"

"Satellite imagery shows a construction site with a deep foundation pit two blocks to the east," Skeets replied swiftly.

"Perfect," she said and began lifting the bubble off the ground, flying with it. She could see the people inside who were scratching and clawing desperately at the force field's barrier. She could see the pure lunacy in their eyes. They wanted to rip her apart. A woman closest to the edge of the bubble was slamming her head against the barrier in a vain attempt to escape.

Approaching the crater in the street which easily fell a good twenty feet below the sidewalk, Booster placed the raving people inside.

"Skeets, any idea what's wrong with them?" she asked her companion.

"Scanning," the AI responded dutifully. After a moment, it continued, "There seems to be some inorganic matter attached to the brain stem of each affected individual. Readings show this is the reason for the heightened aggression."

"Can we get them out?" was the obvious next question.

"Not with our current arsenal of tools," Skeets answered swiftly. "Unless you would like to remove their heads with an energy blast."

"What!? No!" she yelled back at the AI. "We need to have a serious discussion about excessive force."

Booster surveyed the area. Whatever this was, it was something much bigger than her. At least she figured it was. But she could help. As she stood there thinking about the situation, something the robot had said to her turned a light bulb on.

"Skeets, you said we had 'temporal' travels?" she turned to the robot on her back. "Are we time travelers? Can we use your databanks to find out how to help here?"

"Of course ma'am!" the robot responded excitedly. "Processing..."

ZZZZZTTTTTT

Interference ran through Booster's HUD and ear piece before coming under control.

"Skeets? What the hell was that?" she asked in a panic.

"Sorry, ma'am," the robot was apologetic. "I must be affected as well from our trip, but I have regulated. According to my records, the Roxxon Oil Building is about to be overrun! We can make it there in mere moments!"

"Oil company? Seriously?" she scrunched her nose again.

"Ma'am, thanks to the genius of Tony Stark, Reed Richards, and Ray Palmer, global warming will be solved in a few short years," Skeets explained. "Meanwhile, we can possibly get a reward for helping. We do need to eat and pay for shelter here, remember."

It was a good point. As far as she knew, the trip she took to come here was one way. She certainly didn't remember a way back, and the droid didn't seem to be hinting at the possibility either. She'd need to find a steady income. Plus, who wouldn't want to be famous? She could bleed the oil men off for everything they had and save the world. A real win-win, right? Especially if it gave her time to remember who she truly was.

"Okay, Skeets," she smiled. "Let's get paid."

---

A H I G H – R I S E O F F I C E

---

^{- | Location Undiscoled New York}

Fine Italian leather strides. Cufflinks gleaming. Ash drops from 6 feet in the air. The classic 50s cut Brooks Brothers suit returned to the high-rise building, stuffed full of Farley Fleeter.

“It's out of the equation. You got what you wanted. So let’s talk contract.”

The seat turned revealing the man in green. A unique haircut, the grizzled face of a man who’s gone to war in so many corporate board meetings, he could end most internal disagreements with a raised eyebrow, let alone a grimace or scowl.

“Do I have the B.E.E.T.L.E in my possession?”

“It’s off the board. The market’s cleared.”

“Do I. Have. The B.E.E.T.L.E. In my. Possession? That was the job. Steal the B.E.E.T.L.E armour. Return it to me. Do not try to change the terms of our deal to hide your failings... Frank.”

Fleeter lit a fresh cigarette off the first, and levelled his eyes at the man in green seated opposite.

“This is better. It’s off the board, out of the market. Nobody’s looking for stolen property or you, because there is no stolen property. You’ve got a clear path. You’re welcome.”

Osborn looked at the smarmy ad man who was so brazenly trying to move the goalposts. He wouldn’t raise his voice. He wouldn’t stand. He wouldn’t do him the courtesy of treating him as enough of a nuisance for either to be necessary.

“I suppose you haven’t failed yet. But this certainly wouldn’t qualify as a success. You have been effective in your own form, even if you didn’t do the job. So what would you have me do in this regard?” Osborn posed the rhetorical question.

“You’ve had people’s livelihoods in your hands before, Fleeter. I mean, like myself, you’ve run your own business. So what would you do if you had a bunch of people who show early signs of promise, without actually achieving their tasks?”

Osborn turned his back to the well dressed advertising agent, rotating in his seat to overlook the city below.

“Probation. The B.E.E.T.L.E suit was seized as evidence. We’ll draw up the short term contract for Farley Fleeter Advertising Agency. I think you might find the contract’s final date might align itself with the conclusion of Abner Jenkins’ trial. I will have what I am owed, Fleeter. Or I will be the object of your unending horror. I will destroy your life, and your co-workers lives, and desecrate the ashes. I have dedicated myself to finding ways to make the lives of people who fail me remarkably uncomfortable in the past, you will understand just what that entails. Fleeter, you find me what I was promised or you will find me every bit the grotesque which disgruntled employees have claimed me to be and then some.”

Sensing the terms would get no more favourable, Farley Fleeter turned and left the office. A smile grew across his face as he felt the weight of the Blue Beetle’s B.B. gun close in his pocket. A stay of execution and he hadn’t needed to give his secret chit away, this called for a drink.

---

T H E R O X X O N B U I L D I N G

---

^{Days After the Crisis | Manhattan, New York}

Dario Agger, CEO of Roxxon Energy, strolled out to the podium in front of the skyscraper with his company's name on it in Manhattan. The crisis had past days ago, and the world was starting to come back to normal. But he couldn't be happier. His blinding, bleached teeth reflected the sun just as well as his silver, slicked-back hair. He had always been an oil man, and the business was good. Especially now that he was about to announce something special for the company.

"Well, I'm glad you all could come," he started his remarks. "A few days ago, we experienced something that was terrible beyond words. An attack on every innocent person in this city. The devastation and depravity of those that perpetrated this attack knew no bounds. But luckily, there were others here to protect us. Now, I know there are some out there in the media saying superheroes can't do us any good. That they're a menace. Bull hockey, I say! I saw so many of them trying to help us, and no more than this great woman!"

He motioned to the big screens that flanked the podium, and a highlight reel of Booster Gold's defense of the Roxxon Building played. People oohed and aahed, and rightfully so. She was impressive, as impressive as any superhero was. And now she was gonna be his ace in the hole, a new revenue stream from merchandising and endorsements. He couldn't believe his luck.

"That right there!" he continued. "That there is Booster Gold! The new superhero of Roxxon Energy!"

With that, Booster swooped over the crowd, giving them all a thrill. She pulled up over them and waved, posing for pictures as she did. If the oil man was fully sold on the arrangement, the hero still had reservations. She could use this situation to her benefit, sure. But there was still something gnawing at the back of her mind that there was something really wrong with the entire situation she had found herself in.

Not that she let that affect her smile. There was expectations when you were the face of a company.

---

H O M E W O O D S U I T E S B Y H I L T O N N Y / M I D T O W N

---

^{Less Than A Week Later | Midtown, New York}

Ted’s sullen face blinked to life on the Conference Room 1 screen at K.O.R.D. East division courtesy of KORDEX. Although all things being equal he’d rather be somewhere else. He had a proxy sitting in for him at a land auction, the next step in his plans for life in his “other” suit, and nothing that would be discussed here in this meeting would be particularly pleasing.

Four faces showed on Ted’s screen. Whilst he and Jeremiah sat next to each other on laptops in one of the Hotel’s meeting rooms.

“Angela, is there anyway I could get you to scooch in next to Melody or Randall? You’re an indispensable part of these meetings as far as I’m concerned.”

“Yes, Mister Kord.” She said, as she picked her things up and slid over next to Melody Case, the East Division’s President, forcing her to slide down closer to Randall Truman, before she stopped and chose instead to angle the camera towards the pair of them, leaving the Chief Marketing Officer with his own camera just to himself.

“Alright, at this point I’m pretty sure everyone here has made themselves familiar with the news pertaining to Abner Jenkins.”

“Who would have known that the craggly old fart had it in him to be a supervillain, huh?” Randall Truman spoke up coarsely.

“Allegedly.” Ted spoke firmly, with a scowl in his eyes that came through towards everyone, but was clearly intended for Truman. “And our legal department are in the process of discerning just how spurious those allegations are, Mister Truman. So we will do him the courtesy of not assuming all accusations are indiscretions. Innocent until proven guilty. The country does him that honour, and I think in light of his service and our friendship over these years, the least we could do is match that expectation.”

Ted sighed and eased off as he updated the board on the facts. “I’ve spoken with Legal and at this point the focus is mainly on looking to get him bail.”

“Bail? Tony Stark had his employee Iron Man do this kind of thing all the time, what’s the issue?” Melody asked.

Ted sighed. “The issue is that in the span of a week we can expect the Legal landscape has changed dramatically on how this kind of thing is seen. Obviously no new legislation has had the opportunity to be formed yet, but if you think that a judge isn’t going to be prejudiced by what happened down here then you’re living with your head in the sand.”

“Can’t say he’s not a flight risk either...” Added Randall Truman.

“Mmm. Yes. Very helpful.” Ted muttered sarcastically at his Chief Marketing Officer’s complete lack of tact.

“The reason we’re having this meeting,” said Jeremiah Duncan into his laptop, restoring a sense of order to the meeting, “is to keep the full Board appraised on the situation and also to deal with the matter of the Chief Financial Officer position.”

“Yes. Thank you, Jeremiah. Abner was good enough to file his resignation as a result of this incident, for the benefit of this company he’s worked so hard for all of these years, and as a result we’ll be discussing the now vacant Chief Financial Officer position.”

Ted eyed the monitors like a hawk waiting to see which one of the Director’s would first try and make their move. Curt Calhoun rocked forward to say something and Ted immediately cut him off before he could get a word out. “But it will be a very short discussion…”

“...I will be looking to fill this position from outside. Given the very public way in which this occurred I will be looking to preserve internal stability and not shuffle the deckchairs having multiple Senior Executives come to grips with new roles at the same time in the wake of this. I’ll be looking to interview candidates in the next week. I’m sure a few of you may be very disappointed to hear that this opportunity is being handled in this manner, but I assure you I have not made this decision lightly, and I’m making it with the best interests of this company in mind.”

Melody spoke next, with a probing question, “Wouldn’t our shareholders be more concerned about our stability if they see us respond to such a situation by hiring such a prestigious position from without rather than within?”

“Quite possibly.” Ted replied. “But under the current circumstances I’m more concerned with actual stability than perceived stability. I don’t see it as preferable for a new CFO to have to learn their role on the fly, with no proper hand-over - again, we can’t be sure that Abner will be able to get bail at this point - whilst simultaneously having a Division Director who’s responsible for on site management for a third of the company also coming to terms with their new role. I’m also familiar with everybody’s resumes here. Nobody here has ever held a Chief Financial Officer position in the past with the exception of Jeremiah and I couldn’t ask him to take that kind of hit. I won’t. Jeremiah’s going to be busy enough as it is in the coming days, and his experience will be invaluable in smoothing this public relations nightmare in the first place.”

Ted paused to wait for a response or rebuttal from anyone in attendance, but none was forthcoming. “Well, if there’s nothing else… Angela, could you see that the food goes to…”

“The engineers? Yes, sir.”

“You know what, they had at it just last week. I think given the circumstances…”

“Finance and accounts?”

“Got it in one, Angela.” Or two... On the bounce. Whatever.

Carapax and Calhoun’s monitors flicked off. As did Jeremiah’s. Ted could see Randall Truman walk past the two ladies and presumably out of the conference room.

“Ted, how are you feeling? I heard you took quite a beating.” Melody asked.

Kord was shocked by the question. What did she know? How?

“Hmm..?” He quickly tried to gather, pretending he hadn’t heard the initial question.

“Murray said Abner knocked you through a wall in the crossfire at the Expo.”

“Oh, I’m still a little sore, but I’ll be OK. Paramedics said I broke a rib and sprained my wrist landing awkwardly, but I can’t complain. Not with everything that happened out here over the last week.”

“Oh Mr Kord, that’s terrible!” Angela chimed in with sympathy. Ted saw Melody’s concern drain away rapidly having now heard it wasn’t anything more serious. “Well, I’m glad you’re well. That’s all.” Melody said, somewhat more icily, as she organized her assorted folders into a neat stack and left, clutching them tightly to her chest.

“Have you heard from your father recently as well, Mr Kord?” Angela asked.

“Yes, just before I left to come to New York, in fact. We still keep in touch pretty often.” Ted said, looking down to his pocket as his phone vibrated. As the contact name scrolled across his phone he could make out the caller as “--ord”

“Just a second. Sorry. I have to take this real quick.” He held out a finger to the laptop camera as he answered his phone.

“Yes?”

“The auction just finished.”

“And?”

“And you’re now a New York land owner, kid.”

“Excellent. How much?”

“7 and a half under your top price.”

“Oof.” Ted said, he went a little high, because he wanted to make sure he got it, but it was more than he’d expected. “Alright though, I guess. I’ll talk to you later.”

He finished replying to Angela. “In fact, he’s probably the first person I’ll go and see when I land." He said with a smile as he clicked disconnect on the call he had taken with the contact name “Maxwell Lord”.

"You know how it is. Make sure Dad knows his boy’s safe.”

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

<Snipped quote by Hound55>

Vigilante's legacy lies in all the wet handmarks he leaves on people's clothes.

@DearTrickster

Forever doomed to be... irritatingly slightly damp!