October Writing Challenge!

Well, September is almost spent and gone. A wonderful thank you to all the people who not only wrote, but signed up for Heroic Harmonies as well. Don't forget to tune in for this show everyone.

Anyways, October is right around the corner. And beyond that is November. Some of you know that November is National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo, or NaNo for short. When I started this way back in May, there was a bit of sneaky intention to get people warmed up, motivated, to attempt NaNo. Now, going from 1000 words in a month to 50,000 words (The NaNo goal) is a huge jump, I know, but I'm hoping that over the months, people have found the simple joy in crafting a story, seeing the characters come alive first in their mind then on paper/screen.

I'll talk more about NaNo later though, just giving everyone a little heads up! What most of you want to know, however, is what the challenge for October. Well, we have City of Villians coming out soon, as well as Halloween this month. Halloween is supposed to bring about scary things, things that go bump in the night. A city full of villains is definatly a scarty thing as well.

So this month's challenge is to write a scary situation that your hero or character has been in. Could be a sticky heroic situation, could be something common place that struck at his or her phobias. We'll aim for 750 words this month.

And I'm going to ask one thing above and beyond if you post. When you post your story, scroll up to the story above yours. (exclude any comments or praise posts, well, just for this purpose at least.) Who ever that person is, send them a pm saying at least one thing you liked and one thing you didn't like about their story. It doesn't have to be involved or a masterpiece of criticism, just a little note. I will be the last person to post (hopefully) so everyone who posts something gets at least one note of feedback. However, don't let this stop you from sending feedback to anyone you want, this is just to make sure people get to hear reactions from their writing.

One last bookkeeping note, last month the August Challenge Thread was moved to the Roleplaying Thread, where it is archived. I do not know if that will happen to this thread or not (Probably will), but if you don't want to risk loosing your story, on my forums at www.greenjournal.net, I offer people their own 'forum' to archive their writing. Feel free to use it, instructions are in the 'Writers Haven' section near the bottom.

Okay, I think that's all for now. Again, thank you for all who write, read, and share for these challenges.

-bumping cause it seems this flew off the front page really fast-

Ooh. I've got something in mind for this. City of Villains and a good dose of scary situation... the twisted origin of ShifTab, robot master.

Hmm. I may actually write for some of my lesser-known alts this time around; the subject is perfect for some of them. *prods at the ideas bubbling in her mind* And THIS month, I'll have no cross-country moves getting in my way.

If I can find time, I'd love to work out a peice for this month.

Hmm ... I'll have to think about this. There are some things I can think of that were scary to me, but I don't know that they'd bother anyone else in the same way.

(( Perfect. There's a story from much earlier in MJ's career that I've been meaning to write; this is the perfect "incentive." ))

((Here's my entry! And the first this month, looks like... it's the origin of a villain character. Well, the second origin. Her original origin, as a hero, was simply being built by Kelp. Then some circumstances happened... intereting ones. Loose ends. Rather than just make the character dissapear, I thought, why not tie those loose ends up? What happens when a hero is forgotten? When a character who's meant to be saved... never is? That's ShifTab. That's her story. And here's some of it.

1014 words long.

Feedback appreciated!))

It was a little less than a year ago that it happened. They took me. And they took my 'brother'. And they wanted to study us. They wanted to know why we worked. Because they said we shouldn't work. They said we didn't make any sense. They said that our creator didn't know anything about robotics. I told them they were wrong. That he was the best roboticist in the world. I was wrong. I didn't know it then. They did, though. They told me. They said-

"Kelp Plankton's a hero, nothing more. He dabbles in robotics and other technological things. How in the hell did he make this? These? Whatever."

"I'll be damned if I know. The blue one's not sitting still, though. Seems that they're each on a different end of the scale. Pink one seems calm, almost kind of emotionless. Blue one's kinda... unstable, I think."

I couldn't tell what was going on. I was in something. I was being taken somewhere. So was my brother. We were held in containers. It was dark. I missed Sarah. Sarah was my best friend in the world. Sarah would do anything for me. Or that's what I thought. I also thought Kelp would do anything for me. Neither of them would let me stay there, in the dark. Alone. Scared. I wanted to go home. I wanted to be with people who loved me. But I suppose no one ever really loved me. People say things. They don't always mean them. I hurt to learn that. It hurt almost as much as it did when they-

"Cut her open. Get rid of all of that synthetic skin. We don't need it. Gotta see the inner workings."

"Are you sure we should start with her, sir? She seems to be in a state of emotional distress... the other one is at least happy, I mean-"

"Are you questioning me?"

"Essentially, yes."

"...right. Well, do what I say. Or... I'll... else."

"...yes, sir."

They cut me open. I don't have blood. But I can feel everything like any organic can. They tore my skin off. Slice slice slice. Cut cut cut. Rip rip rip. No more skin. Except my face. I wouldn't let them take my face. Sarah gave up a lot to have her face. I would be like Sarah. Sarah loved me. Sarah was supposed to come. Kelp was supposed to come. Sarah never came. Kelp did. Kelp came. Kelp left me there.

Kelp thought I was dead.

So did the people who were cutting me.

"Sir, all of its systems went offline."

"What the hell did you do?"

"There was a beacon, I had to deactivate it... someone could of followed that signal right to-"

I remember hearing the glass shatter. I couldn't see anything. I heard Kelp's voice screaming something at them. He was angry. He took PTab and left. He saved my brother, but left me. I wasn't dead. He should have known I wasn't dead. But Kelp must have come with Sarah. Sarah would save me.

Sarah never came.

I spent months alive, but dead. I could feel everything they did to me. They took me apart, piece by piece. They changed me. They put me back together. Then they did it all over again. And again. And again. And again. One day, I was tired of it. I was tired of them. They had no regard for synthetic life. They considered organics to be worthy of their cause. They didn't even want to eat animals. Just plants.

In the darkness, I woke up. There was no one around. Lights in the hallway. I looked down at myself, and saw I was no longer me. They took all of my skin. I was a robotic skeleton. Exposed wires. Problems everywhere. Parts missing. Parts that shouldn't have been there. I was damaged. But I was alive.

I felt my face. They had cut it. They peeled parts back to see what was beneath. What my real face looked like. Beneath my human facade. I was a machine. Inorganic. Metal. I always would be. I no longer wished I was organic. I had wanted to be once. Now I wanted nothing to do with them. They slaughtered my kind endlessly. I thought back to when I would accompany heroes on missions. Arrest the criminals. Destroy the robots. It was unfair to think nothing of a life form because it was different.

They needed to learn.

They needed to be taught.

I grabbed a needle and some thread from a table nearby. I fixed my face. It was sewn back together. I would hold onto my face. I would not forget Sarah. Even though she had forgotten about me.

The building's power went out. I smiled for the first time in nearly a year. I was leaving. And I had some teaching to do on my way out.

Tick tock, tick tock. Clocks still worked, clocks had batteries. I hummed along to the tune they made as I skipped down the corridor. Tick tock, tick tock. Music made by gears, song written by time, symphony orchestrated by technology. Each foot hit the ground in time with it. Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock, tick tock. A squeak as I opened the door. A man asked who was there. I said ‘just me’. He asked who I was. I said ‘a teacher’. He asked what I meant by that. I showed him what I meant. Then I wiped the blood off of my hands, and went to the next room. And the room after that. Room after room. Human after human. So many had to be taught there. Taught that what they did was not the right thing to do. They learned. And others will learn from their education.

I hummed again, skipping to the exit door. Tick tock, tick tock, the mechanical heartbeat of life kept going on.

The organic heartbeat of mankind, however… *giggle*...it was fun to teach it to stop.

Oh, hello. My name is ShifTab.

I exist to teach.

((set sometime in mid-late March 2005, might help if you knew Mouse's bio. you can read up on it a little here http://www.creyindustries.com/viewhero.php?id=14865 ))

I have to hurry!

Mouse slammed into the gate hard, forcing it open enough for her to squeeze out into the all too bright afternoon sun. She sprints and dives face first into the creek that divides Gemini park, frantically trying to wash away the toxic chemicals that the abominations used on her.

Just my face, my eyes! She's coming!

She splashed water in her eyes, trying think how bad it is. Parts of her costume is gone, and steel gleamed from her back and stomach and spots along each arm. Her ankle still felt weak and she was still bleeding from her nose, but it wasn't that bad..

Silly Mouse, going in there alone. Couldn't you have waited until Steel had gotten off work?

Hearing the sound of rusted metal groaning as the gate is forced open, she turns and charges, the claws she was given growing out of her gloves. She sees the gate being forced open by a big hand, and then an Eidolon steps into the bright afternoon sun.

Where is She? Right behind? Have to deal with him, keep him in the door!

He was huge for Eidolon, every inch of seven foot tall. He had to bow his head to step out the door, and raised a hand to shade his eyes, the sun too bright after so long underground. He wasn't ready for the little four foot something one hundred something pound woman that slammed into him, claws flailing. But things like that didn't worry him anymore. He counted hero killer as one of his specialities, and it was one of the few things that he still enjoyed.

She felt her claws strike and stop, the eido's thick leather skin too tough for her to cut. Her heart skipped a beat, but she swung again... and her claws slid across his leather bound arm barely leaving a mark.

He's too big! Have to run! No! Have to fight! Fight Harder! I saw Her!

She jumped up in the air and swung down as hard as she could, this time her claws cutting into the leather but only through the surface. She sees the fist coming at her even as she swings, but she is too slow and hanging in the air

She blinks a couple of times, trying to remember how she ended up face down in the mud on creek bank. Then a huge hand grasps and shoves her face deeper into the mud!

"Pain she said. Give her the gift of pain. It was her wish, she said, from the bottom of her heart." Eidolon's voice is strong, full of confidence. He was enjoying this, like he always does, but this time more so. A beautiful woman child to play with. So tiny, still a child in size but her fears are those of an adult. If I had the time and a quiet place, I would play with her for a while. Just like old times.

He grabbed a flailing clawed hand by the wrist and squeezed, and then twisted. The mud muffled the squeal of pain as her wrist snapped and the bones ground together. It didn't feel the same however -- the thick leather skin didn’t feel much of anything, good or bad. The old games are not as fun as they use to be.

Mouse squirmed harder as he crushed her arm. Even though it (like most of her body) was hollow metal, she still felt pain. Sometimes more then a normal person would. He was too strong, too heavy, she wasn't able to wiggle enough to get free with his knee planted in her back.


But I must. I am so close. She is here! I have to catch Her!

Grabbing a hand full of mud and rocks, she tossed it blindly at him... and felt the hands let go. Seizing the chance, she rolled herself deeper into the creek and desperately wiped some of the mud from her eyes. It was no surprise when the hand grabbed the back of her head again, but she rolled again, breaking free.

I can't stay down, fight damn you!

Placing a foot down hard, she came out of the water swinging blindly... and felt the claws sink deep.

Pain! I feel pain! How did she do that? How could she? With a broken arm? He could see that her claws on the arm he had just crushed had struck him in the arm pit where the sensitive skin is, were his leather was thin and weak. He can feel already that arm going numb and useless as he jerked away from her. Deal with her quickly! No! Get inside, yes, get inside! Find a mortificator. Have to hurry!

Yes! His leather is weaker in some places. I can take him!

Even partially blinded by the mud and water in her eyes, she ducked under a suddenly clumsy left hook. And then came back up with right that struck true right where the front and back come together along his thigh. She waited a second too long to pull free, and he backhanded her. It was a mighty desperate blow on his part, breaking the claws off and knocking her several feet away into the shallow water.

The gate is so close. I can make it. She will be waiting. Just a few more steps...
...
...
Mouse gently washes her face again. Sitting chest deep in the chilly water, what remains of her costume partially off so the water can finish washing the chemicals out. Unlike most heroes she has met, her faux skin reacts badly to the toxic chemicals the Vahzilok uses. And unlike real skin that stops transmitting pain after a bit, hers doesn’t until it is destroyed or until it can start healing again.

He was gone when she was able to think straight again. She doesn't know if he survived and had crawled back down the sewer, or whether other servants of Vahzilok had already collected his body. She does know that she is a mess. She can feel the gentle tingle as her skin begins to regrow and the cold metal repairs itself. She can see her reflection in the water, the dark bruising around the eyes and nose that will be gone by morning but means that she will have to call in again tonight if she can't make up another good excuse. The damp tangled white hair. And the dark brown eyes, slightly mismatched...

But most of all, she knows that She does exists. The rumors where true. Her nightmares made real. A tiny four foot something one hundred something pound Eidolon with a single dark brown eye that glitterred in the darkness.

((edited for typos, etc))

The bleeding wasn't stopping.

I cursed my luck thoroughly, making sure I didn't miss any profanities. I used English, Korean, Japanese, hell, even the few bad words of indigenous Ainu and Osakan that I knew. I did it because it gave me the illusion that I was in control, but mostly because forcing myself to remember Uncle Walt's language tutelage took my mind off the pain that was slowly spreading like fire through my abdomen.

The bleeding wasn't stopping and I was lost.

Josef Keller had sent me on this damned fool's errand into Dark Astoria, knowing full well what I was going to run into. If it had been easy, I later realized, he probably would have gone and taken the readings himself instead of calling on me. I couldn't believe that I actually said "I ain't afraid of no ghosts," like I was some sad reject from the eighties. Well, technically, I was a child of the Reagan era, but that didn't mean I was spouting movie cliches like that every ten seconds. Still, you know, humming didn't seem like such a bad idea as I started to go off in another direction past the lamppost I'd passed seven times before.

The bleeding wasn't stopping and I was lost and it was still out there.

I'd never actually seen flesh crawl. You hear people say it all the time, but it's sort of a figure of speech... or it was. The first glimpse I got of it was from behind, a huge shadow sliding in and out of the fog with an unnatural grace. It had to have been eight feet tall, and its color was somewhere between gray, black, and "oh my god put that back in the ground, it's not oil yet". Yellow slicks of decomposed organic slime slopped off it with each huge, lumbering step. It paused in its shambling-- I held my breath, hoping I hadn't been noticed-- and then it leaned over and retched into a nearby flowerbed. The vomit was bright red and there were sparkles of the fading streetlamps reflected in it-- probably jewelry, my mind intoned. It ate someone and the diamonds and pearls didn't go down too well, I thought, then suppressed the urge to puke myself.

The bleeding wasn't stopping and I was lost and it was still out there and it was hungry.

The worst part was the stench. That's what did me in. The foul odor, sulfuric and sweet and acrid and wispy all at the same time, seeped in through the cloth mask. There wasn't enough time for me to compose myself and remember that it probably had hearing to match its stature-- I coughed, choked on the thick stench. The head snapped around, looking for me. I knew instantly that its neck was not a weak point as the head made a second rotation. Hands in gloves, standing at the ready. I wasn't going to show it any fear and I sure as hell wasn't going to show any mercy. I launched myself forward and thrust a claw into the thing's chest, square in its heart.

It looked down at the wound, and laughed. Half-rotten teeth sprayed from its mouth. I slashed again, and ribbons of once-flesh striped down onto the ground. This wasn't--

The hand was dessicated, but the bones were sharp from overuse for exactly this purpose. The finger slipped deep into my stomach, and I swear I felt my intestines pop. I drew back and stared at the wound-- yellow gunk sizzled and snapped around the entry point. It burned. I screamed and ran.

The bleeding wasn't stopping and I was lost and it was still out there and it was hungry and I had to stop running.

Something in that slime, I thought, between prayers and profanities. Something in there my healing factor can't re-grow around. Got to clean it out, got to clean the wound... Water! I rushed forward to the small fountain, hearing it bubbling in the distance. I scooped a handful of the liquid into my hands and stopped. The water was bloodier than I was. I dropped back and sat down heavily against the stone fountain. Not like this, I whispered into the darkness. Not this way. I touched the emergency beacon and glanced at it when it failed to respond. "Rikti activity has produced undue stress on the teleportation grid," it read; "Your condition is being monitored and you will be teleported if your situation worsens." I started my litany of obscenity again.

I heard it smash through a pickup truck on its way to get to me. Not enough time, I thought dimly as my focus started to fade. Got to get my situation worse quickly. Got to lose this fast and pray the doctors have seen this before. It'll hurt, something told me. It will hurt and it might even get you killed. Try to find the exit, and then call for help...

My legs refused to stand. I had no feeling past the fire-hole in my belly. The top of the fountain flew away, and it stood there, smiling. Bloody drool dripped into the fountain.

It hurt.

And when the blessed white light of the teleporter finally took me, all I could think of was three words, one final thought that told me I was going to be all right:

"Revenge. Not alone."

((This is set after a long drawn out battle with the villain. He has be running Badge ragged for a week now and has just gone in for his target.))

This is a pic of the moment before the story starts.

http://i20.photobucket.com/albums/b2...Cover_new1.jpg


"Fight for Justice"

The first two bullets tear through the Kevlar like it was paper. Even now I can’t help but analyze the situation. Two shots fired, close range, the gun he’s holding has a 5 shot load. Only three shots left, piece of cake.

The force of the shots spins me around facing the bed of Justice. Sweet little Justice, still as asleep now as when she slipped into the coma 4 years ago. I’m sorry Justice.

Behind me I can hear laughter, mocking me right before he shoots again, this time tearing a hole in my left shoulder. Not much time now, with a wound there I’ll bleed out in 30 minutes if I don’t get medical attention. Good thing I’m already in a hospital. All I have to do is defeat one more guy and I can rest. Sounds easier than it is.

I turn around slowly, trying to draw out the time. This is Paragon City after all. Some super powered hero will come to save the day. All I have to do is keep him occupied until then. That or a cop, but you can never find a good cop when you need one. I smile and laugh at the joke of that.

“What’s so funny, little man?” The Bookkeeper says.

Good, keep him talking, keep his attention on you, keep it away from the girl.

“I said what’s so funny Badge!” He yells the words and echoes his outrage with a shot at my kneecap. The bullet tears through flesh and I collapse on the bed. I can barely keep myself upright but I have to. I can’t fail her again. I look at her one last time, she seems so serene, like a child that is only napping. The pain dulls my vision, cause for a second I could swear I saw her hand move when he fired that last shot. Wishful thinking I tell myself.


Not much time left now, I hear the sirens but know they won’t make it in time. Only one thing left to do, take that last bullet from him.

“My name is Walker” I tell him, and he finally gets the joke.

He laughs, can’t help it. “You’re Detective John Walker? After what you did, after what you helped me do last time you’re trying to stop me from finishing this little runt. Does she even know she’s an orphan? Does she know what you helped do?” He lowers the gun a fraction, he’s stunned. Understandable.

“Tell you what,” he reaches inside his jacket pocket. The suit is old and almost out of style, smells like mothballs. He takes out a bill from his wallet and tosses it on the floor in front of me. “Take your bribe again and leave the room, let me finish what we started and you’ll never see me again.”

I take one last look at sweet little Justice, I’m sorry. I don’t notice her eyes begin to twitch. Her eyelids flutter.

I take what little strength I have left and push myself off the bed and straight towards him. He surprised but only for a moment, I get close before he fires his gun for the last time and I take it straight in the chest.

My last bribe.

Paid in lead, not in gold.

I grab his head and butt him straight in the nose, dirty fighting but it’s all I have left. I smash into his face with my fist and he goes down. After all, he’s just an accountant. Hardly a street fighter.

When the cops show up they’ll take him back into custody. Now if I can only find a doctor I might actually live to fight again.

I’m standing there, tottering back and forth, striving to keep conscious when it happens.

Behind me on the bed, she wakes up. The last gunshot must have done it. The shock from it finally got to her. She sits bolt upright in her bed, screaming, looking around at the walls. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

I try to stagger over to her bed but my legs give out on the way. I fall to my knees beside it and look at her face, so full of life again, terrified and scared but not sleeping anymore.

“Justice,” I whisper, my voice hoarse and raspy. She turns to me and looks in my eyes with a strange recognition at her name and yet wonders who I am. “I’m sorry”

I touch her cheek with my blood stained gloves, leaving a little crimson mark on her.

Then I fall, I fall beside the bed and let go.

My battle is over, hers is just beginning.

The sirens are close, she’ll be fine.

Goodbye, Justice.

((*sigh* I'm having a rough time with this one. Started and scrapped three already.))

((Written by Mike and I.))

“How many of these things ARE there?” Kir’s normally emotionless voice was tired and irritated. She swung at another zombie, sending it sprawling with an energy-enhanced punch.

"Enough," was Hiro's quick response as he cut down another one. "Behind you!" he shouted.

A blast of something wet, warm, and acidic hit her right between the shoulder blades; she gagged and spun, fists glowing, to throw a double-handed punch at the zombie that sent it sprawling to the ground. It didn’t get back up. “If this keeps going,” she panted, breathless, “we’re going to be in trouble.”

Hiro juked to one side and slashed quickly at another shambling horde. An Abomination sprung from around the corner and backhanded him, sending the once ninja flying against the wall. He slumped against the wall and the zombie horde turned toward the easy meal.

“No!” Kir reached within herself, pulling at more power, and launched herself at the zombies, fists flying. She was not losing him, not Hiro, not her only friend and her only link to her barely-remembered past. She could vaguely feel blows slamming into her, more caustic wetness sliding down her back and arms, but she just fought all the more fiercely because of it. A wave of dizziness swept over her, but she dug even deeper within herself, pushing more power into her attacks, until she was vaguely aware that only one of the reapers was left. He stared at her, then spitefully took aim with his crossbow and fired, not at her but at the defenseless Hiro. With a scream of rage, she threw herself at him, hitting him hard enough that the crunch of bone was audible—both from the hit and from his landing on a metal catwalk more than ten feet away.

Hiro groaned and fought to get his vision to clear. He felt a wetness at his shoulder and a pain. He groaned, showing that he was alive.

Kir turned to him, a hint of a smile on her face. She took a step towards him, and tumbled to her knees as a wave of nausea and weakness swept over her. In some corner of her mind, she struggled to figure out why it was suddenly so hard to breathe, desperately trying to draw air in through a throat that felt like it was closing up.

Hiro looked up and groaned. "Told you," he coughed. "Using too much energy...you can't go slinging it around like that or you'll be dead within the year."

Kir tried to answer, tried to force words out past the tightness in her chest, but couldn’t get enough breath to be audible. She doubled over, supporting herself with one hand while clutching at her chest with the other, trying to make the knot of constricting pain go away so she could breathe.

Hiro spoke to her in calm, easy tone. "Don't fight so much. Remember your meditations, the ones I've shown you. Calm, be calm and remember and follow it to the letter. It works if you let it."

She fought it for another few seconds before his voice and tone penetrated. Then her conditioning kicked in and she relaxed with the soothing calmness of his words. She collapsed to her side, breathing shallow but slowly growing steadier.

"Good," he said with sigh. "You can't keep doing this. How long have I been saying this? Believe me yet?"

It took a moment for her to gather her breath to answer. In an exhausted whisper, she managed, “I can’t stop, Hiro…I’ve tried…I really have…”

"No, you haven't. You say that, but you know that you rely on it. It's your crutch, always there and always able to work despite the cost. You use it carelessly, flinging your energy around like there was more to spare, but there's not and one day you'll go to tap that reserve and that crutch will snap under your weight, before you keel over," he replied evenly. "Conditioning can be broken if you really honestly want to try, but you really don't do you?"

She stared up at him, eyes apologetic and fearful. “I don’t want to die,” she whispered, struggling to stay calm and keep her breathing under control.

"Then you have to change." It was a simple statement that carried a lot of weight and implications.

With effort, she pushed herself back to a kneeling position, battling another wave of weakness and dizziness. “How?” she managed.

"You must leave here...” he held up a hand to stop her protest "...I know people that can train you. They will break this conditioning of yours and let you really live." He paused. "And if you want to come back after that…" He spread his hands.

She sighed and bowed her head in acceptance. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

"Not anymore," he said, getting to his feet and offering her a hand.

She took it and let him pull her up; she was so weak she had to rely on him almost completely for support. “Then…then I have to do it.”

He nodded. "Let's get you on a plane."

((*sneak sneak....BUMP!....flee*))

((Oh yay! I just wrote something REALLY scary for the Sidekik this morning. As soon as she gets back to this dimension, I will be able to post it. Was wondering where I was gonna put it, but now I know. Yay!))

Glad you bumped this...I didn't even see it the first time around. Guessing the contest goes until the end of the month? *Crosses fingers in the hopes she can find time to write something.*

[ QUOTE ]
Glad you bumped this...I didn't even see it the first time around. Guessing the contest goes until the end of the month? *Crosses fingers in the hopes she can find time to write something.*

[/ QUOTE ]

Contest?

You mean there is a prize for this?

If we can choose what it is I like beer and pie.

(( I know I'm sneaking this in at the last minute, but it really couldn't be posted before now. You'll see why. ))


Miss Megajoule had spent last Halloween, her first in Paragon, helping other heroes repel a city-wide manifestation of the supernatural. This year, she was taking the night off so that Julie Vernon could go to a party.

Fearing a repeat of last year's haunting, Julie had been reluctant to hang up her regular costume and put on another. Her friends in D.F.B. and the Do-Gooders had assured her that they could handle things in her absence, and that she'd earned some "me time" with her recent victories over Nemesis and the Malta Group. So she'd thrown a lab coat over her street clothes, put on some fake glasses, and accepted a neighbor's invitation.

The party was in one of Independence Port's many warehouses. The previous owners had been a front for the Frost family, until whatever they were storing here attracted the wrath of the Devouring Earth; a hero had cleaned up both problems, and the new owner picked it up at fire-sale prices (literally) and converted most of the space into a club. It wasn't the Paragon Dance Party, but the band was decent, the refreshments were excellent, and the holiday decor was appropriately festive and spooky.

Despite her choice of costume and major, Julie was no shy nerdy scientist. Tonight was a night to relax and cut loose a bit, and she intended to make the most of it. In no time she was out on the dance floor, doing the Monster Mash with several appreciative guys.

The music, the energy of the crowd, the endorphin rush of dancing, and whatever they'd put in the punch bowl all combined to dull Julie's senses a bit. Thus, her first hint of danger was when someone screamed a little too shrilly and the band lurched to a halt. She'd been standing at the bar, talking to someone who didn't have the muscles or the proper skin tone to make a convincing Citadel; she looked up just in time to see the crowd part for the new arrivals.

They seemed to have come dressed for the occasion, in garishly bright colors and fanciful costumes. All were masked. In the lead, sweeping grandly along, was a woman in an elaborate dress from another era. Flanking her like bookends, or hunting hounds, were two huge bare-chested men in tight pants and boots, their heads sealed in iron casks. Behind these followed the lady's attendants, a half dozen in all, with two harlequins doing somersaults and cartwheels bringing up the rear.

When she was quite sure she had the attention of everyone in the club, the mistress of illusion glided to a halt and surveyed the crowd. An expression of delight was fixed upon her porcelain visage, and her voice matched it: "Good evening, my dears, and a happy All Hallows Eve! It pleases us to find you making merry on this special night." She dipped forward in a curtsey without bending at the waist. "We have come to join your revels. We will all have..." Her voice dropped an octave as she pressed her hands together in anticipation. "... so much fun."

Julie swallowed and began to edge away through the party crowd, most of whom continued to stare at the Carnival "entertainers" in confusion, fascination, or fear. Got to get out of here, she thought. Got to find a place to change, call for backup. At the edge of the crowd, she turned...

And found herself face to mask with another illusionist and her harlequins, who'd come in through a side door. Julie froze as the woman gently tut-tutted, the glowing red eyes of her mask beginning to pulse hypnotically.

"You can't leave now. The real party's just starting. And you have such an... interesting aura."

Julie stopped thinking.




She woke late the next day, feeling exhausted, as if she hadn't slept at all. She rolled over and went back to sleep.

Later, she would have no memory of going to the Halloween party. Nor would the survivors remember seeing her there.

(( Last minute? Don't worry, mine'll be later than that. stupid jerk real life. ))

((I had one half-written, but I couldn't get it up to the word limit. It's stuck somewhere around 375.))

((well, it was a busy month, with all the CoV stuff going on. I expect November and December to be low key as well. Still gonna run them though))

(( Shh ... don't tell anyone, but mine's only about 660. I had another incident in mind (see post further up-thread), but then this came along. ))

(( Pardon all... keeping this thread secure. I tried to PM CuppaJo to move it to the Roleplaying forum for safekeeping, but she is not accepting PM's at the moment. If she doesn't beat me to it, I'll try again after the weekend. ))