Powers

Once again, the inspiration for a story comes from somewhere unexpected.  I was experiencing the Kansas City Renaissance Festival with my wife and oldest son.  We watched some jousting, sampled a turkey leg, listened to some choirs, and flew through the air on a zip line.

One fun area was an arena in which competitors could battle anyone and everyone with soft foam swords for 15 minutes.  They also had a small field where you could fight a knight with a live blade after a brief yet detailed lesson in swordsmanship.

One vendor carried a range of mock-up weapons of different materials.  There were scimitars, bastard swords, great swords, hand axes, and hammers.  Plastic versions sat embedded in bales of hay.  Wooden samples were grouped in barrels.  All of this combined to spark a new story in my mind.

For most people, toy stores are filled with play things and items of childish joy.  For me, they are so much more.  Inside are tools, comrades, and, most importantly, weapons.  In my hands, anything intended for fun can become a real version of itself.  A plastic chainsaw becomes a roaring tool for felling trees.  A toy pistol turns into a full-fledged deadly firearm.

My personal favorite is foam swords.  I get a special feeling each time a lightweight handle shifts in my hand and becomes a leather wrapped grip.  The sword becomes heavier as the blade extends and shifts from a dull gray to the shine of steel.  I have to keep myself from giggling with glee as what was once a plaything is now a deadly weapon in my hand.

Now, don't misunderstand me.  It doesn't matter what the toy is made of, my touch has the ability to turn it into a real weapon.  A wooden sword becomes just as metallic as one made of plastic or foam.  Firearms are just as lethal whether originally plastic, aluminum, or even soap.  They will be loaded with a single magazine.

My ability does have its limits.  After the rounds are exhausted in a gun, it becomes a toy again, but broken and useless to anyone now.  Swords also have their limits.  After wielding one

All of this started when I was a toddler.  It only took my parents a short amount of time to figure out why my stuffed dogs kept disappearing and real puppies appeared in my room.  Back then, the transformations seemed to happen at random.  My parents learned to give me generic toys that didn't represent anything in reality.  Until I was 12 or so and learned how to control my ability.  Then things got real fun.

These days I have become particularly popular at the toy stores and imitation weapons vendors at the local Ren Fest.  Some of the sword guys actually make custom blades for me without knowing what I actually use them for.  Just that I buy lots of their products.

I have also become a degree of infamous in the back alleys at night.  I'm not fighting super villains in flashy battles up and down the streets.  I am stopping muggers and watching out for innocent people walking the streets.  I wonder what the toughs and macho jerks that I beat down would say if they knew they were getting knocked around by a toy.

What is a super power you wish you had?  Is it one that exists in the comics or a completely new one?What would you do with such a power?  Let everyone know in the comments.

Combat

We have spent weeks in the trenches.  So much longer than headquarters told us we would be here.  The people we are fighting were supposed to be pushovers.  The plan was to march into town and set ourselves up in the middle of town.  There our captain had a prepared speech he would give.  His words would inform everyone in the small town that they were now under our jurisdiction and control.  Even though they would be subject to our laws and regulations, we would be leaving their current leaders in place.  That's how things were supposed to happen anyway.

We came under fire as we crested the hill outside the town.  It was precise fire from the trees lining the road.  There was incoming from so many different directions, we didn't have any time to locate any of the shooters.  A handful of the newer recruits fired randomly into the trees.  The order to retreat was given and everyone fell back in a disciplined group. We cleared the trees and the attack stopped.  Five bodies lay on the ground.  The soldiers that had fired at the town citizens were all dead.  Their remains would be left there until our mission was completed.  At that time, we all thought it would only be a few hours longer than originally planned.

We could only assume those dead soldiers were still laying out in the open where they had fallen.  It had been impossible for us to get that close to the town again.  During the weeks since we had lost more friends and fellow soldiers.  We never saw the residents themselves.  Just heard shots ring out as soldiers tried to maneuver out of our covered positions.  More often than not, the soldiers that had become uncovered would then fall.  The morale of the entire squad was lower than ever.  Even our rations were running frighteningly low, despite the decrease in hungry stomachs that needed filling.

The captain had tried to communicate with headquarters.  They kept repeating that we had to be mistaken.  Their reports said the residents of the town were all unarmed.  According to the people safe and sound behind their office doors, this mission was a cake walk.  No reinforcements were coming and  we would be extracted once it was confirmed the town was under our control.  At this point it seemed like we would be fighting here to our last man.  An end that was getting closer faster than anyone expected it ever would.

With so few of us left, I now find myself the second in command.  Only the captain himself outranks me.  Should he fall, I have sworn to myself to ignore headquarters.  When the decision is mine, we will surrender and let the residents take us all prisoner.  There's nothing they could do to us that would be worse than sitting here waiting to die.  Is there?

Musical Interlude

There are a number of writing challenges out there.  Some come as suggestions in an email.  Others can be found on websites offering authors the chance to post the results.  Occasionally they seem to come out of nowhere.  

I was having a conversation with my sons about boy bands.  A pun was made that included the names of a couple of popular bands.  This ignited a spark of inspiration.  It came to me that I should try to write a story that included the names of some bands hidden in the tale.  To fit the narrative, I did alter some band names to the way they are pronounced and not the "official" names.

It is a time of war.  The government was giving massive incentives to citizens in order to get them to join the military.  So much so, there was a big time rush to recruitment centers to sign up.  The media was proud to broadcast numerous stories of victories.  The exact nature of the enemy was never announced.  Nobody seemed to want to know who we were fighting as long as we were winning.

It seemed like everyone was willing to fight and risk dying to maintain the upper hand over an enemy they didn't know.  The people came from all walks of like.  Hard workers from the backstreet.  Boys from rich neighborhoods.  Girls who had only been competitive on the pageant runway.  All for one purpose, signing up and getting their incentive.  It seemed like you only had to point a finger.  Bang, you had a new recruit.

Regardless of their background, all of these raw recruits were sent to train at boot camp.  As soon as the fresh arrivals, the new kids on the block as it were, got a quick lesson in military discipline.  In order to field the best fighting force, they would all be equally transformed from boys to men.  After a few months of intense training and combat practice, everyone would be shipped out.  Once at the battlefield, they would be given only one direction.  Win at any cost.

It would be only after a day's hard combat and numerous losses that the true enemy would be revealed.  There was no real enemy.  The troops were being commanded to fight each other.  Survivors would be sent back to the battlefield again the next day.  Regardless of who won, victory could be claimed by the leaders that kept sending recruits in to fight themselves.

Did you see the names for all 7 bands?  Can you write a sentence or phrase with another musical group's name?  Let me know what you think in the comments.

Game Time

There are any of a number of adventures you can take on a daily basis.  Various universes to explore.  Personalities to experience.  Opportunities to either help or hinder, build or destroy.  With the activity I have in mind, here are just some of the things you can enjoy.

A swarm of dragons covers the sky.  Paths through the clouds appear before them as they swoop high over the ground.  The paths curve and bend through near misses between soaring bodies.  Occasionally unlucky dragons collide or run out of sky, only to disappear entirely.  Until, at last, only one is left to rule the heavens.

Money changes hands.  Land is bought and sold.  Homes are built and upgraded.  Entrepreneurs haggle and try to make their money work hard for them.  They acquire utilities and collect fees each time their associates utilize what they have to offer.  Risks are taken that may cause an individual to end up behind bars until they serve their time or pay to get out.  Ultimately, the victor is the one with the most money at the end.

Monsters are attacking a major metropolis.  They throw buses against buildings and scatter the denizens that live inside.  Walls are toppled by breath attacks.  Unfortunate citizens are consumed by the monsters to fuel their rage.  At times, even the monsters themselves are harmed by the actions of the other attackers.  The final monster standing rules over the destroyed wasteland that remains.

Not every family is happy or particularly successful.  Some are menaced by mice, Others become trapped on a train.  There is even a chance a member of one of these unlucky families might be terrified by topiary.  The only favor someone can do for these suffering families is to help them end their suffering by shuffling off their mortal coils.

A team travels through caverns and castles.  They encounter monsters and collect treasures.  During each battle, members of the team may help their mates to defeat the powerful beast, or slip something to the beast itself to keep their "friend" from becoming too powerful too soon.  Regardless of the result of combat, laughs are shared between the teammates.

All of these adventures are very easy to experience.  Just go to your favorite local game store and pick them up.  Each one is a board or card game.  In order they are Tsuro, Monopoly, Terror in Meeple City, Gloom, and Munchkin.  In these times of digital downloads and electronic devices everywhere, board and card games can still be just as enjoyable.  Just get some friends and/or family together and have an afternoon of games.  

With a little luck, it might become a regular event.

Busy Times

Ok.  I will admit it.  I missed the last two updates.  My real world job became a lot more time consuming than expected.  I have also had to spread thin what little spare moments I had left.  I had to wrap up editing on my new book and format everything to get it ready for publication.  I have also had to pick up supplies for my first solo sales in a booth during the upcoming Pioneer Days Festival.

With all that on my plate, I simply have not had enough in me to come up with new blog posts.  There hasn't been enough room in my brain for new stories to develop and start banging around.  With that in mind, I present a cheap dodge to coming up with something new today.  Here is an excerpt from my new novel, coming out very soon.

As they leave the system, Christian leaves his cabin and relieves Traylor in the pilot's cabin. She leaves the small space and climbs down to the otherwise empty galley to grab a bite to eat. She fails to notice as a figure appears out of nothingness behind her. The figure walks and stands directly behind Traylor as she is hunched over, eating. The new figure makes no noise or sounds. No breath fills the figure's lungs. No indications of soft footsteps on the hard deck. The figure simply stands directly behind Traylor, unnoticed.

Traylor continues to eat, looking up only when chewing to glance at the monitor displaying the relationship between the KRENNET and the other ship. She continues to eat, enjoying the peace and quiet of the galley with Christian piloting the ship and everyone else asleep or otherwise enjoying themselves in their cabins. She enjoyed being with the other members of the small crew, but sometimes being by herself was preferable.

As Traylor once again looks down at her food to get another bite, the figure behind her vanishes. Less than a second later the figure is sitting in the previously empty chair to Traylor's right, just at the edge of her peripheral vision when she eventually looks up again.

Traylor catches the edge of the figure in the corner of her eye. She jumps back in her chair, moving away from the table and preparing to defend herself from this sudden invader. Traylor finds her heart is racing faster than she thinks it ever has. She doesn't know where this other person came from or what their intentions may be. She only knows that her ship and the rest of the crew must be protected.

“Crystal! Alert the others, there is an invader in the galley!” Traylor yells up to the AI's audio pickup above the table. She keeps here eyes on the figure still seated at the table. The unexpected guest is a female human with long, blonde hair, smooth olive skin, and eyes of the deepest blue Traylor has ever seen.

Once things are finalized and the book is fully released, announcements will be made on Twitter and Facebook.  Until, then go, read, enjoy.

Satisfying An Addiction

It seems like the government is finding new things to ban every day. Some of them are banned because they are more harmful than good to the human body, regardless of how they make that same body feel. Other things are banned “for the public's own good,” whether it's any good or not.

Regardless of why something is banned, people will find a way to satisfy their desire for it. Even if it something they didn't have such an extreme need for when it was easily and legally obtained.

There is more garbage on the worn pavement than in the cans and dumpsters that line the alley. Numerous fixtures extend over beaten doors, but only one currently emits any light. Two dark figures stand in the weak glow. The shadows around them merging with the night above.

One figure is hunched inside their coat. Their hands moving nervously inside the deep pockets. Head down and shoulders hunched, she appears to want to avoid being noticed by the only other living soul in this ill-reputed area of town. While she is no stranger here, this place makes her nervous and afraid. It is only her strong desire, her almost physical need, for what can be acquired here that would drag her down to such a neighborhood.

The second figure is full of confidence. He stands straight and proud. This is his area. The scum that reside on these streets are his people. The businesses that operate here, legal and otherwise, do so at his leisure. He doesn't just live here, he is an absolute king. So much so that even the snobs from the richer parts of town seek him out in order to satisfy themselves.

“Welcome back my dear. You have returned sooner than I expected. I figured my last 'shipment' to you would have lasted you at least another two weeks.”

A look of concern crosses the otherwise happy face of the man. “You haven't been sharing my product with anyone else, have you? You know that is against the rules. If the wrong people found out about my little side business, you would be cut off from your supply forever.”

The huddled woman shakes her head vigorously, her voice shaky with nerves and fear, “No! I haven't shared with anyone else. I haven't told anyone else. I just had a few unexpected.....rough days. It took more than usual to calm me down. That's all. No risk to you.”

She stands a little straighter and her words lose most of their timbre. “Besides, I would lose more than my source if you were discovered. I would lose my entire inheritance. I would lose my very livelihood. A conviction, even for mere possession would make me a pariah in my social circles. You would just serve your time and come back to your operations, the same as before. Time behind bars might even get you a few new customers. I would be completely ruined. If either of us has to worry about the consequences of the authorities find out, it's me.”

The man waves his hand and nods in understanding. “Settle down, settle down. It just seemed a little unusual, that's all. In my experience, unusual is not generally a good thing. It causes me concern and I don't like to be concerned.”

He pulls out a small notebook and extracts a pencil from the metal spiral binding the pages. “Now, let's get down to business. What is it you would like today?”

The woman gives a nod and starts considering her request. “I want the good stuff. The stuff direct from South America. Don't you dare try to pawn any of that weak crap from Pennsylvania either. I'd rather eat mud than even touch that junk.”

He makes a few quick scratches in his notebook and looks her in the eye. “South America, eh? That isn't going to be cheap. It's getting harder to move product across some of the borders involved. It's actually easier to get stuff from parts of Europe or even Israel these days. Are you sure you wouldn't want some from there?”

“Expense doesn't matter. You know I can afford anything. Europe's stuff is decent, but they cut it with too much other stuff. It's still good product, but I want more purity. I want it direct from the source. I want it from South America. Colombia, Brazil, where they know what they are doing.”

A couple more notes are made on paper. “Fine. Suit yourself. South American it is. Delivery should be in about a month and a half.”

“A month and half? I can't wait that long. I need some now! I ran out yesterday and I can barely hold on as it is.”

“Hey, you want the good stuff, it takes time. I already told you borders are getting harder and harder to cross. Part of the trip will have to be made by cruise ship and that takes two weeks just to arrange. If you want anything quicker, I have a few samples on me. A couple of manufacturers you haven't tried yet. However, these will have to do you for now. The only other thing I have on hand is the 'Pennsylvania mud' you despise so much.”

Her hands fly out of her pockets and shake as she extends them to him. “Oh yes, please. Give me some. I need something now. Then I promise not to bother you again until the shipment arrives.”

He reaches behind his back and draws forth a thick pouch with a zipper holding the top closed. One hand holds the pouch by the bottom while the other slowly opens the zipper. The sounds of the the metallic teeth being separated echoing off the brick walls lining the narrow space. Once the zipper pull finally reaches the end, he slides his hand in and pulls out an array of small baggies. Each one contains a few ounces of the precious substance the woman has come to purchase.

He starts to extend the handful of baggies towards the woman, but quickly yanks them back, the plastic mere milimeters from her touch. “Don't get too excited now. We still have to discuss payment. Your usual amount, this time from South America. Plus these sample to tide you over. That should come to about three thousand, five hundred dollars total.”

The woman's face becomes contorted as she is obviously at war with herself. The price is more than she is expecting. She can still easily afford it, but it is considerably more than her usual amount. Hiding an expense that large won't be easy. Her desire for what he is dangling before her eyes is enough to inspire an idea.

She reaches back into her own pockets and withdraws three pieces of plastic. “Here, here you go. You can take what you want from my credit cards. I can say I made some random rash purchases. Nobody will look into that.”

He shakes his head as he begins to replace the baggies inside the pouch. “No can do my dear. I'm not your corner clothing store. I don't have the processing service that all your favorite retailers have. I can't take plastic. It's too easily traced. Too many bureaucrats getting their hands in my pies. This is a cash only transaction.”

Her hands begin to shake more than ever as she puts the useless hunks of plastic back into her pockets. Her voice picks up its old quiver again. “What about jewelry? I have some rings on me and there are some gold chains my mother never wears. She'd never notice if they went missing.”

“Nope. I can't pay my suppliers with the presumed value of things that are probably going to end up being reported as stolen the day after I deliver to you. I said cash, I need cash. You want what I have, you pay me what I want.”

“But.....thirty five hundred dollars? I can't get that much cash. My dad calls if I even get $100 out of an ATM. They don't care how much I spend, they just want to know where I'm spending it and that doesn't happen if I carry too much cash around.”

He quickly closes the zipper on the pouch and returns it to its hiding place behind his back. He flips his notebook closed and slides the pencil back into the spiral binding. He turns to leave the alley as she drops to her knees, sobbing. “Call me again when you have the money. I will hold the price for you for 48 hours. Any longer than that and my lack of patience makes the costs go up.”

Her sobs become pleading wails for him to do something for her. Wails that are only heard only by the one person whose business ethics and lack of other morals give him no desire to help the suffering soul in the alley.

As he turns from the dark alley onto a dimly lit street, a single thought crosses his mind. “All of this fuss and hassle over chocolate. Who'd have thought it?”

If chocolate were to be completely banned in America, do you think you could live without it? What is something you don't think you could survive without should it become illegal?

Taking Over The World

Villains the world over all have their own reasons for wanting to take over or destroy the world.  Some of their plans focus on defeating the hero, others just want their bidding done without question.  Regardless of why or how they try to complete their plans, would hero stories be worth reading if it weren't for powerful villains?

Finally, all of the pieces are in place.  I have planned for every contingency.  I have backup plans for my backup plans.  There are escape routes for my most dedicated personnel. Even some of the common cannon fodder may survive to serve me another day.  No big loss if they don't, they were just scum I hired off the street.  What remains of them can just as easily return there.

The expenses for this endeavor didn't make a dent in my total assets.  Which is fortunate because I will need to grease a few more wheels in order to maintain my position once I sit on my throne.  It would be a shame that so many people compromise their morals for the right amount of cash, if that fact didn't open so many literal and figurative doors for me.  Police officers in my pocket.  City officials looking the other way while licenses are handed out and permits are violated.  State legislators fighting laws that would hurt my plans, but actually help their constituents.  A few campaign contributions, some donations to the right charities, out and out bribes.  If any of them knew how much I had squirreled away from my business practices, legit and otherwise, they would demand so much more.

So much control.  So many people respecting and fearing me.  All of this from someone that couldn't even control his own life for so many years.  A drunk for a father.  A mother that was pregnant almost as often as she was high.  Siblings that were too busy getting into their own trouble to notice me doing what I had to in order to survive.  A beloved neighborhood pet or two disappears, only to be returned once a reward is offered.  Money that wouldn't be missed vanishes.  Car tires go flat just when I happened to be close enough to help, for a small fee of course.  Such subtle beginnings for a man that is about to rule the world, even if only from the shadows.

Now, in a matter of hours, my plans for the night will begin.  Those that are fated to be hurt will be hurt.  Those that must die will die.  As the dust clears, everyone will know my name.  They will look up to me and cheer for my leadership or quiver in fear of my anger.  It is only right that I take my place above everyone else.  I wonder if I should choose the material for my statue, or give the people the impression of control by letting them "decide."

If you were to rule the world, what is the first thing you would do?  What would your enemies fear about you the most?