MissKyo

No, just PM me and let me know when to meet you...the banks are parked in Pocket D and since they're only level 4 I'm not really wanting to move them around, lol.

Akemi shifted slightly, turning her head back and forth to follow the conversation between Paxtera and the draconian folk. Turning to Sam Winston, she asked, "are you going to open that package, or stare at it? It's not ticking. I'm pretty sure it's not a bomb."

[ QUOTE ]
Hmm start with 5 mil? 1 mil pot every week so if no one wins at the end of the month you could get all 5 ?

[/ QUOTE ]

So 1 mil jackpot every week, whatever doesn't get won goes into a mega pot at the end of the month? Sounds good to me. Anyone object?

Stop that with the math! You're making my head hurt...

It's a preference thing, really. People who want to use Team Teleport can use Team Teleport, people who want to use Group Fly use Group Fly.

Okies.

Hey guys...if you come up for an idea...and this is for anyone...and you PM me the details and say "I need x amount for prize money"...I am probably going to pm the details around the to the other members of the "committee" anyhow and ask them to vote...just so you're forewarned.

It might be easier to post it here and get feedback in most cases. ^_^

It can be slotted. She's got Flight and Teleport pools. I realized (when watching Charlie run triage, no less) that TP + Heal/Rez is more helpful than "Oh no I died trying to get to you...but here's a wakie for when that mob gets off your head."

I like the Lotto idea. How much do you need for prizes each week, Kult?

Also, for the Tailor idea, someone would have to go ALL the way to the tailor with them and back, Taxi-style, either by sidekicking and sprinting through the zone or by Recalling friend. I volunteer my fairy for this, she'll have Team Teleport on one of her builds anyhow and that way I could take 7 at a time.

[ QUOTE ]
Since we're throwing ideas... how about a "What Not To Wear / Extreme Makeover" contest for those newbies who desperately want to change costumes but can't get to the Tailor in Steel Canyon in one piece ?

[/ QUOTE ]

I like this. In fact I LOVE this. We could also give out costume recipes with the salvage and inf for them!

And guys, don't forget redside-villains need love too. Anything we do blueside I am hoping we can also do redside for as long as the funds hold out.

Kult, if you want to run a lotto, run a lotto.

We haz teh moneys!

But if I were going to do a lotto, I'd give numbers only to players under level 20 or 1 year of vet rewards...but that's just me.

Akemi stepped back to give Sam access to the door. "It's your mail, Mr. Winston...maybe you had better be the one to sign, in case it's official or something." She kept a grip on the top of her bag, though-if this delivery guy were going to try anything, she was the closest, and she'd be ready.

I get the feeling I'll be running any PvP events we decide to do...

Okay, we got people, now we need event ideas...what's coming up in March? *checks calendar*

March 17 is Saint Patrick's Day and the calendar I'm looking at says that March 19 is the first day of spring.

Soooo...spring themed costume contest? Maybe?

[ QUOTE ]
I know everybody tells me that 16 posts sine the game came out is me just running my mouth to excess, and this is slightly off topic but it just occured to me that there is no way to track the number of people you save on the street.

[/ QUOTE ]

This has nothing to do with this thread.

"Busy day!" Akemi exclaimed. This time, she was the one to pull open the door. "Hello...can I help you?" she asked the official-looking man with the official-looking smile. A delivery man, she thought to herself. Just a delivery man. Unless he was another automaton...but would Nemesis send two in ten minutes to the same place? No, she thought, probably not. So this guy probably was just a delivery man.

Cool beans, thanks guys!

Getting back to the topic of the thread...which is not my avatar...

Thankies to Stale and Arch for volunteering, thankies to Sooner for agreeing to help out (even showing up is a big help sometimes! ^_^) and Grey, I am possibly going to recruit you since you didn't say yes or no...

I'll leave this thread up for the next few days, then start gathering ideas from the people who signed up, but if you have an idea already (even if you don't want to sign up) you can also post that in the thread as well and we will probably use it.

I asked for ideas on how to put the excess influence and infamy we have from NPWN to work for the community, and the answer I got was to form a committee dedicated to hosting events that would give the inf away as prizes. I've been pondering on this for a while, and I guess now is as good a time as any. The name stays New Player Welcoming Committee until someone thinks of a better one.

If you would like to sign up for the committee, comment the thread and let me know; I'm looking for people willing to organize and host all kinds of events, from costume contests to hide and seek to PvP tournaments.

You'll be able to design an event and have the prizes provided out of the budget-we can even use it to purchase recipes and other prizes.

We have 482,001,059 influence and 137,001,078 infamy, raised from the Player Auction and donations, to give away. If we have enough fun with this, it might become an ongoing thing-we might try to have another Player Auction this year and do more stuff. The possibilities are endless!

If no one signs up to help out, I'll just start holding costume contests every night, but that could get boring fast.

So, anyone interested?

Chapter Eleven: Hide and Seek

Three weeks, five days, and seventeen hours. In that amount of time, Steampunk Charlie had visited a total of two-hundred and ninety-four different dimensions, looking for a copy of a book: Electronic Service, Unit #16. The book that would allow Charlie to rebuild the Interocitor, the device which had flung his fiancée and himself from the year 1883 in his home dimension of Gamma Phi 31-7 to present-day Paragon City.

As he stepped from the portal back into the laboratory at Portal Corporation, a voice blared out from the loudspeakers.

“Exploration trip number 294, Epsilon Delta 44-8 complete. Any luck Charlie?”

Charlie recognized the voice as that of Major Semiens, who had been there just as long as the weary Hero, and sounded just as tired.

“No luck so far. Just a few million more Clockwork roaming around a deserted city,” the weary Hero called back. “Would you care to tell me why we can’t just open a portal to my original dimension? I’m certain the book would have survived a hundred-odd years with no problems at all.”

Tina Macintyre walked over to where Charlie was sitting on the ramp leading to the Portal, her recovery team in tow. “Sorry Charlie, but the coordinates to Gamma Phi 31-7 have been lost to us ever since Barnes disappeared, months ago. We keep trying to recover them, but the computers keep telling us that there’s no such place. The good news, though, is thanks to your efforts, we have a much more complete map of the surrounding dimensions. That is of immense value to us, even if you never do find the book.”

“Well, that’s all fine and good, but we need the book if I’m to ever rebuild the Interocitor. But for now, my armor needs recharging and repairs, and quite frankly, I need a rest,” he said, as he pressed a button on his belt, changing back into Professor Winthrop. “I haven’t even seen my Group in a week! And while I’m sure they’re doing fine without me, I miss my friends. Are you certain that they can’t come along on a few of these expeditions? More people searching would make things go much faster.”

Major Semiens, walking down the ramp from the observation booth, was quick to reply. “I’m sorry Professor, but as you know, we’ve had to place a Top Secret classification on this project. Statesman himself requested that we give it the highest priority possible. So until we get an accurate copy of the book, you’ll just have to keep searching on your own.”

The Professor walked over to a table where all the “inaccurate copies” from his previous dimension-hopping trips were laid out. Titles ranging from “Electronic Service, Unit #4” all the way to “Electruneec Serfeece-a, Uneet Noomber Seexateee, Bork Bork Bork” (And wasn’t that a strange world! Completely populated by beings made of felt!). But none of them contained the instructions so desperately needed.

Macintyre placed her hand on the Professor’s shoulder. “Go home and get some rest. We need to recalibrate the equipment for the next series of runs anyway. Take a few days, and we’ll pick this back up when you get back.”

The weary Professor gave a sigh. “That’s exactly what I intend to do. Would Monday be too soon to start searching again?”
Semiens checked his ever-present clipboard. “No, actually, that would be just about right. We’ll have the equipment ready, and you’ll have time to make any needed repairs. Shall we say 9 a.m.?”

Later that evening, a shadowy figure moved among the consoles in the secured lab. After a few minutes, the Portal opened up, and two tall, metal-clad figures stepped through.

“Are things progressing according to plan?” one of the beings asked.

The shadowy figure approached the two, kneeling at their feet. “Yes, fathers, all is on schedule. This world will fall beneath your might very shortly.”

The second figure laid its hand upon the subject’s head. At this touch, the kneeling figure’s very form shifted. Changing size, shape, and color. Shifting like water from a lab coat, to red and blue spandex, to military khaki, to brass and rust, and back. “You have done well, our son. And you will be rewarded for all your hard work. Keep us informed.”

The two beings turned and made their way back through the Portal, leaving the figure kneeling on the ramp.

As the Portal closed back in upon itself, the figure rose. “Yes fathers, and as soon as I have taken over this world, I will return to our home and destroy you both. Both worlds shall be mine, instead of being ruled by weak fleshlings such as yourselves!”

Unbeknownst to the figure, an observer, high up in the rafters of the ceiling was watching. With nary a sound, the observer pressed a button on their belt, and disappeared through a teleportation aperture.

We're up to Chapter Ten: Betrayal and Forgiveness of the Strange Saga of Steampunk Charlie in the Roleplaying section.

Chapter Ten: Betrayal and Forgiveness

Steampunk Charlie wasn’t mad. Far from it. He was royally pissed. In fact, you could almost go so far as to say he was “steamed,” if you were the type of person to use such horrible puns in pleasant company.

Upon receiving word from Mary 637 of the Mary Brigade that the people who had betrayed him were in fact his old friends Rick Davies and Officer Freitag, the Professor wasted no time in heading to Davies’ office, after, of course, a quick stop by the Defenders Base to retrieve his tesseract belt.

Arriving at Davies’ office, he found the administrator of D.A.T.A. poring over activity reports.

“Plotting my next downfall, Richard?” the Professor asked.

“Professor! It’s good to see you! What can you tell me about this new super group you met today? Aside from their Hero registration data, we don’t have much on them yet, and I...”

Davies was quickly cut off as the Professor pressed a stud on his belt buckle, activating the tesseract armor for his costume. However, instead of the usual top hat and driving coat, a much heavier, bulkier, more menacing version of Charlie’s steampunk armor emerged, encasing him immediately.

Davies’ eyes grew wide, with a mixture of admiration, and just a touch of fear. “Wow Professor, that looks…fantastic! I never had any idea you were working on a suit of heavy duty armor!”

As wisps of steam started appearing around the joints of the armor, Charlie spoke. “You also had no idea that I would find out about your little plot to make me forget about Mary, did you.”

“What are you talking about Professor? Is something wrong?” Davies quickly began stammering.

Steampunk Charlie made a quick gesture, and a small ball of lightning coalesced into being next to his left shoulder. “Shocky Jed, this is Richard Davies. If he moves, incapacitate him, but nothing over about level four intensity, I think. I have a few questions for our dear friend.” The ball moved towards Davies, and hovered just inches away, pulsing almost as if it were alive.

Davies eased his hand towards a drawer in his desk, only to receive a sudden streak of electricity from the glowing orb. With a yelp, he jerked his hand back immediately.

“I’d suggest you sit quite still, Richard. Shocky Jed is quite literal in following my instructions. Now then, I do believe it’s time you explained yourself.”

Davies rubbed at the scorch mark and stared at the steam-powered Hero. “Professor, what has gotten into you?”

Steampunk Charlie folded his arms across his chest and stared at Davies. “Your little plot to make me forget about my fiancée and begin trying to rebuild the Interocitor was overheard, Richard. Mary 637 told me everything, and Mister Zero at the club confirmed it. In fact, he even had it on video. If that blasted machine meant so much to you, why didn’t you just ask me to start right away trying to rebuild it?”

“Professor, please! You have to understand! We need that Interocitor immediately! But the staff psychologists said that you were about to go off on your own to rescue Mary! If you had done that, you’d never survive! And we need you! Between Lord Recluse and his people attacking, and the Rikti invasions, Paragon City is falling apart at the seams. Freitag and I acted in your best interests, honest! Once we have a working Interocitor, we can put an end to the invasions, and deal with Recluse! And that will allow us to get you home safe and sound, with Mary!” The beleaguered director looked quite remorseful.

The Galvanized Hero stood there for a moment, thinking. Then, with another gesture, his armor collapsed back in upon itself, revealing the immaculately pressed suit the Professor always wore. “Shocky Jed” faded from sight. “Very well, Richard. I wouldn’t be able to call myself a gentleman, much less a Hero if I didn’t give you the benefit of the doubt.”

Davies stood up, a wide grin crossing his face. “Sure thing, Professor. Still friends?” he asked, holding his hand out towards the Professor.

“Of course, Richard,” the Professor said as he shook hands with the young man. “And I’m terribly sorry for Jed shocking you. It still needs a bit of refinement.”

Davies grinned. “How about we head over to the lab, and work on that? And you can show me what else this new armor of yours can do. While we’re at it, what do you need to get started on the Interocitor?”

As the men headed out the door, the Professor replied, “Well, the first thing is to procure a copy of the book: Electronic Service, Unit Number Sixteen. Once we have that, we can probably begin fabricating components right away.”

A few minutes later, Officer Freitag and Rick Davies walked into the now vacant office.

Davies seemed quite disturbed. “I dunno chief. I’ve not seen the Professor since this ‘Mary Brigade’ showed up. And the only info we have on them is their Hero Registration files. Do you think this is a new plot by Recluse?”

“Actually, I think old Charlie has just gotten himself a fan club. After we screwed up the other night at the club, it’s the best thing for him. Give him a few days, and he’ll be right back to work. Even a Hero needs some time off,” the Detective said with a slight grin. “Besides, this city always needs more Heroes. Say, do you smell ozone? Smells like something electrical shorted out in here.”

((LOL @ steampunk sheep...))

Chapter Nine: Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary

“Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow?” the Professor muttered under his breath as he eyed the bevy of identical young women before him.

All the girls giggled at this, and then their apparent leader replied, “With silver bells, and cockle shells, and pretty maids all in a row.” She gestured to the girls standing to either side of her as she said the last line of the famous poem. “Of course, I’m sure you have a lot more serious questions than that.”

The Professor looked perplexed for a moment. “Yes, quite a few, actually. But where are my manners? I’d offer you ladies a seat, but while Atlas’ foot is quite to my liking, proper young ladies such as yourselves deserve better accommodations. Shall we retire to a nearby establishment for lunch?”

As the Professor and his new acquaintances left the Plaza, Rick Davies was watching their every movement from his office, a bemused look upon his face. “Looks like things just got a lot more interesting for old Charlie. Sarah,” he called to his secretary, “Can you get me the file on a newly formed Hero group called the Mary Brigade?”

However, Davies wasn’t the only person watching the group make its way to lunch, and other eyes that were watching weren’t quite so benevolent…

Over lunch, at the Up-and-Away Burger (the Professor had protested greatly, but as is usual, the majority ruled), the Marys had answered most of his questions.

“One thing that I don’t quite understand,” the Professor asked, dabbing this mouth with the paper napkin, “You say that you are all registered super heroines who decided to band together after reading about my small misfortune in the newspaper. But why? It’s obvious that my fiancée is under some form of mind control by Lord Recluse. Once I rescue her it will be a simple enough matter to correct this. Why base your entire careers upon such an insignificant event?”

“Because we know that you can’t do it alone. Besides we have some information that you’ll find very interesting,” Mary 637 answered immediately. “You see, we know for a fact, that the woman you met in Pocket D was not your fiancée.”

“Oh, and I suppose it was one of you, then? And all this is just a ruse to spirit me away to some villainous lair?” the Professor asked, trying to stifle a laugh.

Mary 952 leaned past the professor to snatch up the salt shaker. “No, Professor, we hadn’t even thought of forming the Brigade at the time. But a few of us, namely 637, 826, 574, 448, and I were there when your meeting took place. And as for spiriting you away, we may look like defenseless girls to you, but…”

She held the salt shaker out on the palm of her hand, and gestured towards Mary 574. 574 hesitated for just an instant, before twin beams of brilliant light shot out of her eyes and vaporized the salt shaker completely.

The Professor paled considerably. All the girls giggled for a moment, and then Mary 448 said, “But like 637 said, we’re here to help you. If you’ll let us, that is.”

“So all you young ladies have been gifted with super-powers?” the Professor asked, recovering quickly.

Mary 826 was quick to reply, “Well, we weren’t all, like, born with them or anything, but 637’s dad is the technological genius, Adrian O’Brien. You know, Captain My...Ouch!”

She was silenced by a quick jab in the ribs Mary 574, who angrily whispered, “Secret identities, remember?”

“My father is a technological marvel who agreed to help us out by supplying us with a few devices for the girls who have no super powers,” Mary 637 quickly finished. “But, there’s something bigger we need to discuss. Girls, a bit of privacy please?”

The other members of the Brigade quickly stood up, grabbed their trays off the table, and left, standing just outside the restaurant.

After a few moments, 637 continued. “You see, like I was saying, a few of us were at the club that night, up on the balcony. And we noticed something. First, if that was the real Mary, why did she come into the club from the Blue door? Getting there from the Rogue Isles, she would have entered through the Red door instead. So whoever that was, they were from here in Paragon City! And, on top of that, I overheard a couple of men talking after she left. You were set up, Professor, by the two men who have helped you the most!”

Akemi considered the question, stowing her sais away in her knapsack again. "Some heroes get paid to bring in criminals," she finally answered, "and sometimes civilians give them money for helping them, too. There's a bounty system in place in a few areas, too, I know. Then again," she added, turning to look at Johnny, "some heroes don't take any money at all. They live in their supergroup bases and work a second job instead. To me, it seems like, if you're paying someone to save your life, if they're not doing it out of the goodness of their heart and a wanting to help, then they're not a hero, you know? But everyone has to eat." Fastening the bag closed again, she slung it over her shoulder and perched on the arm of a couch where she was able to observe the Nemesis automaton. "Not to mention, some of the people I've met, they've seen horrible things...they need a little extra, for therapy in whatever form they take it in."

Chapter Eight: The Brigade Strikes!

Professor Charles Winthrop worked feverishly in the workshop, running from laboratory bench to equipment rack to fabrication table, building and experimenting at a frightening pace. The only sign that anything was different this time, as opposed to his regular routine was the telltale greenish-yellow glow about his arms and legs, showing that he had convinced some other Hero to administer a hyperactivity “speed-boost” upon him.

Normally, this would not be a problem, but as two of the members of his team watching him from the doorway, the celebrated Defenders of Time, knew, he had been in this state for nearly a week.

“The old man’s still at it,” quipped the red and silver armored Airborne Avenger, glancing at his friend.

“Yes, and if he doesn’t stop this foolishness soon, he may end up burning himself out,” replied the mystic Thommn, watching the Professor speed around the lab. “Who boosted him this time?”

“No clue. Probably whoever was near the Base Portal when the last boost wore out. Personally, I think it’s time we put a stop to it.”

After a few minutes, the glow began to fade, and the Professor began to visibly slow down.

“His boost is about to give out. I believe it is time we stopped him, before he brings harm to himself,” said Thommn.

Airborne Avenger looked towards his mystic companion. “You’re right. Let’s grab him by the base portal.”

When the Professor noticed his speed boost wearing off, he set down the components he was working on, and headed out of the workshop towards the lobby. He was certain he could find a hero nearby to re-boost him. Seeing his fellow Defenders standing between himself and the portal drew him up short.

“Hello friends. No time to stop and chat right now. I need to run out and pick something up so I can finish this project I’m working o…” He was quite startled when, without saying a word, both Airborne Avenger and Thommn grabbed his arms. “What are you two doing? Unhand me this instant!”

A voice behind them caused the Professor to stop struggling.

“Charles, we’re worried about you. You’ve been working yourself into a frenzy for nothing,” said the diminutive but powerful Sally Burns. “Please, let us help you,” she finished, as she reached around the Professor, and removed his tesseract belt.

Airborne Avenger looked down at the tiny heroine. “Got it Sal?”
“Yes, and I’ll go lock it into the vault so he can’t get into any more mischief for a bit,” she replied, as she fluttered off towards the workshop.

“Why are you doing this to me? Have you all gone insane?” the Professor sputtered, as his teammates dragged him forcibly towards the base portal. “I need my belt! Without it, I can’t access any of my equipment! And if you toss me outside, I can’t get back in without it!”

“Exactly, old friend. We’re going to make you take a break for a while. You need the rest,” Thommn grinned briefly. “Or would you rather be turned into a frog?”

Sally Burns came fluttering back into the lobby. “Besides Charles, it’s only for a few hours. I promise, I will personally bring your belt back to you in just a bit,” She smiled up at him sweetly. “But, only after you’ve gone for a walk, and gotten some sunshine. You still have your communicator, so if you really need us, just give a call.”

The three Heroes shoved the Professor through the portal, and watched on the remote monitor as he unceremoniously landed in a heap just outside Atlas Plaza.

“Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?” Airborne Avenger asked, watching the Professor pick himself up and dust off his clothing.

Sally Burns, the “den mother” of the Group answered immediately. “Yes. After what that horrid woman did to him, working himself to death isn’t going to do anyone any good. He needs rest, and time to sort things out.”

As Professor Winthrop walked across the Plaza towards his favorite “brooding spot” under the statue of Atlas, he failed to notice the crowd of Heroes and civilians gathered around, most of which were staring at him, muttering to each other as he passed.

He sat down with his back against Atlas’ left foot, and closed his eyes, resting in the bright sunshine for the first time in several days. Perhaps his friends were right; he was pushing himself far too hard, trying to keep his mind off Mary, and what she had said to him.

Had Lord Recluse brainwashed Mary so thoroughly that she honestly believed that her fiancée was some sort of villain? Could anyone have that powerful a grip on the human mind? And if so, what did that hold in store for anyone else the supreme ruler of the Rogue Isles got his taloned grips into?

As he sat there basking in the warmth of the sun, a shadow crossed over his face. “Probably a civilian wanting another autograph,” he thought, not hearing the surprised mutterings of the crowd around him.

He opened his eyes slowly, and looked up at the person standing before him, who looked quite a bit like Mary. For that matter, several of the people standing around him looked surprisingly similar to Mary. In fact, they could almost be identical copies!

He rose quickly to his feet, visibly disturbed by the sight before him. A veritable phalanx of “Marys”! Was he going out of his mind? Was this an attack by some insidious new villain? Or perhaps the effects of being continually speed-boosted for nearly a week?

“Professor Charles Edward Winthrop, I presume?” the young lady standing before him, her hands on her hips, asked. “We are the Mary Brigade, and we’re here to help you,” she said, a slight grin moving across her face.

"Multiple dimension Nemisises...Nemeses? Nemesises? I don't know. Anyhow, the one from here is Nemesis, and the one from the Professor's original home dimension is the Clockwork Nemesis, as far as I can tell. It's an extremely confusing story." She walked over to the automaton and stood looking down at it. "So, are you, like, an A.I. or something? I agree with Kia...you don't sound like you're following programming."

((Okay, this chapter is a sad one for Valentine's Day. You have been warned!))

Chapter Seven: Reunited

Professor Charles Winthrop, better known as Steampunk
Charlie, sat at the table in the noisy nightclub, looking slightly stunned. Flashing lights, loud thumping music, and strangely dressed people assailed his senses. But through it all, he remained as composed as always.

Sitting across from him, the immaculately dressed DJ Zero watched the Professor with a well trained eye. “It’s gonna be okay, Chuck. Just stay calm. After all, she knows you’re here waiting for her.”

“Mister Zero, please do not call me ‘Chuck’. And I am quite calm, thank you very much.” The Professor snapped, as his hands visibly shook on the table between them. “I am simply a bit anxious at seeing Mary again after all these months.”

“Man, that’s wild. Here you’ve been trying to get a rescue operation going to get her back, and all this time all you had to do was show up here. When Ricky called me asking if I’d set up a meeting for you, I was floored. But I’m always glad to help out a Hero.” Zero grinned at the Professor. “So how’d you guys come up with this plan, anyway?”

The Professor’s eyes glazed over for just a moment, as he thought back over the events of the past few days. He was working in the laboratory of the Defenders new base when Rick Davies called him, saying that a strange letter had arrived at D.A.T.A.’s office for him. He hurried over, to find that it was a handwritten note from Mary, asking him to meet her at a club called Pocket D. Davies had immediately called DJ Zero, pulling strings to get a membership pass for the Professor. DJ Zero had gone out of his way though, and given the reluctant Hero a full access VIP pass, and agreed to arrange a bit of extra privacy and security for the couple’s long-awaited reunion.

As the Professor related this information to Zero, the DJ’s smile grew even wider. “Unless I miss my guess, Chuck, there she is now.” He motioned over the Professor’s shoulder, towards the elevator.

The Professor spun around quickly, and jumped up out of his chair. It was! Walking towards him was Miss Mary Cottington, as beautiful as the first day he ever laid eyes upon her. The world around him seemed to fade away, leaving only the image of Mary, reunited with Charles, at long last!

As Mary reached them, DJ Zero laid his hand on the Professor’s shoulder. “I’ll give you two a bit of privacy. If you need anything, just ask. I’ll be nearby.” With that, Zero lifted off the floor, and hovered up to the top of the gigantic speaker stack in the middle of the dance floor. From that unique vantage point, he could monitor all the goings-on in his club, but be nearby in
case anything went wrong.

Mary reached her hands out to the Professor. “Hello Charles, darling. How are you?”

The Professor took hold of Mary’s hands. “My beautiful Mary! Oh, how I’ve missed you! Not a single day has passed that I haven’t tried to come up with a way to rescue you! And here my wonderful, intelligent, beautiful fiancée has found a way to rescue herself! I couldn’t be happier!”

Mary smiled as she looked at the Professor, who had tears of joy shining in his eyes. “Charles, dear, there is something we must discuss. You see, I arranged this meeting to tell you something very important.”

“Oh, of course! I’m terribly sorry, my darling. I seem to have lost all my wits. Please, let us sit and talk,” he rambled, as he pulled out a chair for Mary, and then sat down across from her at the table. “Would you care for some refreshment?”

Mary composed herself for a moment before answering. “No, thank you, Charles. I can’t stay for more than a moment. I really just came to say that, well, it’s over between us. I’ve been seeing what you have been up to over in Paragon City on the television machine, and in the newspapers. And I just can’t bring myself to marry a man who would debase himself by carousing with such questionable people.”

Mary stood up, as the Professor sat there, pole axed.

“Goodbye, Charles. I don’t think we shall see each other again,” she said, as she turned and made her way back to the elevator.

As she left, DJ Zero came floating back down, and put his arm around the Professor’s shoulders. “That’s a tough break, Chuck. Everything I’d heard made her sound a hell of a lot classier than that. Anything I can do for you?”

The Professor, instead of replying, simply slumped in his chair, and began openly sobbing into his hands.

On the balcony above the seating area, two shadowy figures quietly discussed the scene taking place before them.

“Do you think he fell for it?”

“Oh, yeah. Hook, line, and sinker. Now the real work begins.”