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Current A Perpetual Motion Engine of Anxiety and Self-Loathing

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So there I am, in Sri Lanka, formerly Ceylon, at about 3 o'clock in the morning, looking for one thousand brown M&Ms to fill a brandy glass, or Ozzy wouldn't go on stage that night. So, Jeff Beck pops his head 'round the door, and mentions there's a little sweets shop on the edge of town. So - we go. And - it's closed. So there's me, and Keith Moon, and David Crosby, breaking into that little sweets shop, eh. Well, instead of a guard dog, they've got this bloody great big Bengal tiger. I managed to take out the tiger with a can of mace, but the shopowner and his son... that's a different story altogether. I had to beat them to death with their own shoes. Nasty business, really. But, sure enough, I got the M&Ms, and Ozzy went on stage and did a great show.

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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.”
<Snipped quote by Hound55>

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


Forever doomed to be... irritatingly slightly damp!
*Vigilante waves in anti-magic artefact*
The accursed Richards!
You're going to have to instruct what exactly you want if you cannot approve me, which makes me feel like a lousy XMen story reader.


It's more familiarizing yourself with the thread itself, than as a general reader of any particular comics.

Hell, your character can deviate from what appears in the comics. A lot of the best stuff does.

Personal word of advice, I'd probably steer clear of the time machine, myself.


Run…

“Run, Ted! Run! You’re gonna miss the bus!” Carter yelled from the school bus!

Ted’s legs pumped like pistons, he slapped on the door. The driver sighed and hit the brakes, pausing to make a point before he opened the doors.

“Thanks, Mister Ditko. Sorry, I’ll be early next time!” Kord said, climbing the steps with big strides.

The driver gave a tilt of his head, gesturing to the seats.

Ted waded through the aisle past rows of younger children in seats before slumping down into one at the back of the bus from the g-forces caused by Ditko’s lead-foot.

“Man, I thought we were both gonna miss out there! You know you’re my only ticket in, dude!”

Ted had aced a privately set science test competition called 'The Children of Tomorrow' provided to all schools along the Eastern seaboard. The top 25 students would be permitted to bring a friend for an all expenses paid trip to the Baxter Building at Four Freedoms Plaza in New York City.

When the Principal discovered that Ted had won and intended to take Carter Johns, “All-expenses paid” became a “hitching a school-bus already on a set excursion to the Amtrak station, train ride there, train-ride back, fully chaperoned at all times, I’ve got my EYE on you two, don’t you DARE make us look bad” trip.

# “In New Yoooooork! Con-crete jungle where dreams are made of, There’s nothin you can’t dooo!” #


“Stop that. You’re setting a bad example for the fifth graders.” Scolded their supervising teacher.

Ted turned to Carter and whispered. “In school bus. Me-tal death trap where dreams are a no show… where singing’s a no-no…”

The pair broke out with laughter.




The Blue Beetle sprinted up 7th avenue. Past West 36th… 37th… He turned over his right shoulder and saw Wonder Woman and the metal-clad menace fighting far above the city. Ferocious marauding citizens infected by drones were in pursuit, and even if they hadn't been he had no time to stand around and watch. Spotting another pack ahead of him, he started to run to the left side of the street and then made a hard cut, veering back to the right. He slid over a parked car and turned down West 38th never breaking stride, with this new pack merging with those already giving chase.

His legs burned, his cheeks puffed as he turned a deep scarlet. He was nearly halfway there, but he certainly was not out of the woods yet.




The pair stood in the lobby meeting one of the benefactors who had paid for their trip. The chaperoning teachers had long since been ushered away. They would be notified at the conclusion of the day’s activities, so they could once again return children home.

Reed Richards.

He looked maybe in his late 30s. Slender. Spoke crisply. There was never any hesitation prior to using large or awkward words. Which suggested to Ted both a lack of pretension and condescension, although many would suggest the presence of those words was evidence enough of the former. Ted wasn’t sure what to make of the man, he’d certainly never met anyone like him.

A large tank of a man who was built like an NFL linebacker said something in his ear. Richards smiled and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Welcome, Children of Tomorrow! I’m just being notified that necessary preparations are complete and they are now ready for us upstairs. If you’ll line up by the express elevators, we’ll all proceed to the laboratories in four groups.”




Ted looked over his right - aghast with what he was seeing - but never slowed for a second.

Wonder Woman and Stryfe had plowed into the Empire State Building with a force strong enough that the foundation girders themselves had begun to rend themselves asunder. There was a monstrous echoed creak of steel and cracking concrete, as if a colossal metal beast had yawned. The Blue Beetle urged his legs onwards, his chest ached.

The sun was eclipsed as he crossed Broadway. For a second Ted thought the building had bent back on itself and might have defied physics by collapsing on him, but then he realized the sun had disappeared for another horrifying reason.

The sky just behind him had turned black from the swarm.

Ted screamed.

He fell to the street.

He slammed the button on his glove.

The darkness engulfed him. Swallowing him whole.




Ted and Carter stepped out of the express elevator into the bright light of the laboratory. Ted stood agape. Carter looked nonplussed.

“Maaan, I’m getting the sense that we skipped out of school for a school of a different kind.” Ted’s friend whined.

“Whoa, is this…?”

“Gamma converter, for the internal super-thermal conductive high-fission engines. There’s four, surrounding a vacuum-diffusion cooling core.”

“You’re going to space? What about the redundancies?”

Reed was slightly taken aback. “Redundancies?”

“Well, yeah. This will be all well and good for space travel. But what if it overheats prior to breaking orbit. Surely you have redundancies? I mean if you try and use that cooling system prior to escaping the atmosphere-- sure, maybe you get up to high altitude where the air is thin, but you’re still going to be sucking in oxygen. Oxygen and nuclear fission… I mean what nutcases are going to be crazy enough to be flying this thing—?”

The large man walked past again, hearing little Ted get worked up. He looked to calm him.

“Hey, Hey! I’m going to be one of those nutcases. It’s OK, kid. Reed here thinks of everything.”

“Oh YOU’RE going to be flying that thing?”

“Hey, Ted… Calm down.” Carter pulled on his friend’s arm.

“Well, yeah. Me and the Doc’s wife, her kid brother and his ball 'n chain to be…”

Ted pulled his sleeve free, and shoved a finger in the large man’s face.

“Well, hopefully one of you makes it back to tell the world what it’s like to get up to 2,150 Kelvin… because if those engines overheat before you breach the upper atmosphere, what you’ve got here is an expensive Three Mile Island in a can!”

A college aged kid walked over, seeing the commotion. “Hey kids, who likes robots? You want to see the robot we lent out to NBC when they made H.E.R.B.I.E’s Kids Hour?”

Ted Kord and Carter Johns were diverted away, much to the former’s chagrin. Reed looked at the engine component and rubbed his chin, deep in thought.




Ted very gingerly got to his feet after convulsing on the bitumen for a few seconds. The whole swarm had rushed past. ‘Dead’ drone bugs fell to his feet as he swept them off his Blue Beetle suit. He hurt like hell and still felt twitchy.

“Note to self: I have to put more insulation in this suit if I’m ever going to run a current that strong through the metal-mesh ever again...”

He cracked his neck and back and started jogging onwards until he felt limber enough to return to his full sprint, quickly turning up 6th Avenue. He took the opportunity to glance back over his left shoulder to check on the progress of Wonder Woman’s fight with Stryfe. He could no longer hear the creaking groan of steel and glass.

They were gone.

Wonder Woman.

Stryfe.

The top of the Empire State Building.

“Oh… Oh no.” As he began to realize what had happened. What WAS happening.

He’d rushed past the corner of West 39th, and broke into full sprint. He knew he didn’t have long. He heard the terrifying crash which confirmed his worst fears. He saw the dust rise. He saw the dust race towards him down 6th.

The distance between the Blue Beetle and the 40th Street junction shrank.

The distance between the dust cloud and the blue hero shrank even faster.

He jumped and slid across the front of a parked car as he looked to cut the corner for the sanctuary of 40th Street. He felt the car lift from the rushing air beneath him. He pushed off and dived, rolling behind the protection of a building as the dust cloud billowed past, rattling store fronts and triggering car alarms as it enveloped everything in a brown haze.

He panted, sucked up air as fast as he could, looking across the street at Bryant Park.

He got back to his feet and lumbered on, cutting through the park.




Ted and Carter were sat at a desk in the laboratory. Ted looked around. All the twenty-five winning students and their friends were seated in pairs in a five by five setup. Carter wasn’t wrong. Looked like a classroom of a different name. With Reed supplanting himself at the head of the class in a teaching role, speaking to them all.

“Ted, this-- this is not really for me, dude…”

“Shhh… At least let’s hear them out.”

A fresh-faced blonde woman walked around the tables, distributing equipment. She looked young, perhaps a post-grad college age, but couldn’t be much older. She piqued Carter’s interest briefly when they interacted, but he quickly returned to distraction once she had gone.

“Teeeeeeeed…” He whined and put his head on the table.

“Thank you, Susan.” Richards said from the front of the class once she was done.

“Today, my Children of Tomorrow, we’ll be experimenting with some applied chemistry to actually solve some problems that are often relevant in--” Ted tuned him out.

“You’re right. Class by another name. What do you want to do?”

“Wanna get tossed out? We might even have time for gaming by the time we get home.”

“Catalyzed decomposition of Hydrogen peroxide?” Asked Ted.

“Is that--?”

“Yup.” Ted smiled.

“That thing you just said, then.” Carter pointed, with a smile crossing his face.

“We just need a place to sit and watch.” Ted said.

“I’ll get on that. You get on the science.”

The two friends winked and set to work at their own tasks.




The Blue Beetle ran onwards, he was only a few blocks away from Four Freedoms Plaza now. He’d been there years earlier. When it was owned by Reed Richards and his wife Susan Storm. Before the Storm/Richards Scientific Society took over the estate in their stead.

Before the accident which saw them never return.

Ted was intimately familiar with the layout of the building. Reed Richards had planned on significantly upgrading the in-house security measures, but Ben Grimm had been busier with his other training roles in preparation for the exploratory mission, just as Reed himself was kept too busy with the logistical requirements and research required for such a mission.

As it was, they had indeed taken their experimental new craft of Reed Richards' own design. It combined super-thermal conductive nuclear fission engines and a design-based vacuum diffusion-cooled core. In order to maintain optimal temperature, the ship could vent using the vacuum of space itself to rapidly cool the core intermittently. It was a revolutionary new idea, but Ted’s prediction had been eerily close to the mark.

As the ship neared a cloud of rich cosmic radiation, the automated regulatory cooling function activated. Pockets of oxygenated nitrous had been captured within the cloud and were practically injected into the core by diffusion.

It was at this point the remaining life expectancies of everyone aboard the craft dropped to a period that could best be measured in seconds. Thinking quickly, Reed Richards jettisoned their holdings - a Negative Aperture the craft had been carrying for safe off-world experimentation - in the hope that the craft could get clear. The idea being that once beyond the cloud they could again cool the core through diffusion in open space, and safely re-gather their instrumentation once the danger had passed.

However they were too late. Scientists believing the oxygen sent the core’s temperature spiking to meltdown, as the diffusion cooling system also drew in cosmic radiation. What effect the cosmic radiation would have had interacting with the gamma converter, or if there was even time for the entire situation even came to that are questions that few have even acknowledged beyond the broadest speculation. Containment was certainly breached, and the five explorers would likely have either perished from the rapid rising heat, or some flammable internal materials in the heavily oxygenated environment seeing the structural integrity of the craft itself compromised with de-pressurization and exposure to the extreme cold from the vacuum of space becoming another possible cause of death.

Gruesomely ironic, given the means of their ship's propulsion.

Potentially meaning the five involved may experience drastic rising heat for a fraction of a second before suddenly finding themselves unprotected in open space in extreme cold, floating in the cloud of curious cosmic radiation that brought about their demise.

At least those remain the best working theories…

It was considered the worst space related disaster since the Space Shuttle Challenger Mission - with many believing they were already tempting fate by giving the ship that name after the initial mission of Challengers which had seen such questionable luck - Barely managing to defy death themselves, back in their 1957 mission. It also did a lot to end the magic of manned space travel of that era. With drones, robots, rovers and robots doing the bulk of the work in the funded missions in the years beyond.

But Ted had hoped to change that.

He staggered out of the greenery onto West 42nd Street near the New York Public Library, and kept running. Only a few blocks to go.




Ted had snuck his materials over to his station, and Carter had found the perfect place for the pair to watch it all unfold.

Ted poured out hydrogen peroxide with oil and detergent, he then mixed some rich green dye to potassium iodide and kept them separate. He took a string of caps that Carter Johns had brought from home tucked away in his boot and carefully arranged his selection of apparatus.

He elevated the test-tube containing more than enough potassium iodide using a ring-stand, over the large volumetric flask containing the hydrogen peroxide solution.

He repeated this several times until he had a row of several tall containers taking up space all over his desk.

Finally, he took a long length of string and cut it into several sections. Placing one end of each piece of string in the test tube and dangling the other ends in the opening of each the volumetric flasks. He set his fuse for the caps Carter had brought and the pair walked quickly away from the table, making sure not to run and raise suspicion.

But not quite doing a good enough job.

The large man from before looked over and saw Ted’s work as the pair rushed away, and wrongly assumed they were going to fetch Doctors Richards or Storm.

“That’s that smart mouthed kid who was giving Reed grief before. Hey, Johnny! Come get a load of what this whizz kid’s been doin’." He stood over the desk and looked down at all the flasks.

The one who had suggested they all check out the robot started to walk over, but then recognized something on the table. Not the experiment itself, but the string of caps they had run around the desktop. He opened his mouth to callout to the larger man, then thought better of his warning, closed his mouth and smiled.

“Now what in the name of Aunt Petunia do you s’pose these kids were doin’ over here?” Ben Grimm exclaimed, deep in thought.

He watched little green dribbles of potassium iodide slowly siphon out of the test tube and roll down the strings towards the flasks, and tilted his head in contemplation.

Then the caps went off.

BANG! BA-BANG! BA-BA-BA-BA-BANG! BANG! BANG!


Ben Grimm staggered back from the desk and then his focus sharpened, looking for the culprits.

...just as the first drips of potassium iodide hit the hydrogen peroxide. The chain reaction worked swiftly, as the catalyst hit the highly concentrated hydrogen peroxide.

Green silly string-like foam shot up the necks of the long flasks and covered the big man.

“Johnny! Reed! Suzie! Help! The little monsters slimed me! Ahh! It’s hot! What’ve they done?!?”

Reed rushed over to check on his friend. He furrowed his brow.

“Oh. I see. It’s the rapid decomposition of hydrogen peroxide.” Reed mused, quickly evaluating the situation.

“It’s hot! What’ve they done to me?!?”

“It’s exothermic, Ben.” Reed said, carefully stepping back.

“What does that mean? Am I going to be OK? Why are you backing up? Where are those brats?!” Ben fired rapid questions.

“You’re going to be fine. It just means that the reaction releases energy through heat. That is to say, the foam will be quite warm. I’m backing up because I don’t want green dye all over my clothes…”

“And as for the culprits…” Johnny said, pointing to a vent.

“Cheese it, Ted!” Carter stopped laughing long enough to give the signal to bolt.

The pair quickly crawled on hands and knees through the vent, bypassing an adjoining room, they came out near the elevator bay. Carter hit the button and Ted pried the elevator doors open. The elevator was only one floor down.

“You’re kidding me? You’ve seen Die Hard too much…”

“Are you going? Cos I am.” Ted said, holding the doors open.

Carter sighed. “To the end of the line, Ted.” He dropped into the darkness down the shaft and landed with a thud on the lift below. Ted stepped through and dropped just as the four hit the elevator bay.

The elevator went up a single floor and dinged, Ben Grimm stepped inside, flicking the switch to stop the lift. He climbed up the handrail and opened the ceiling panel...

“Ah-Ha!” He exclaimed, poking his head through. “Huh… I coulda sworn they’d have been up here.”

Ted and Carter clung to the counter-weight as it raced down to the express elevator floor, as the lift it was connected to went to the top floor of the building.

“Yeah, this is incredibly dangerous.” Carter uttered.

“So’s letting that big guy catch us after what we just did.” Ted replied.

“So what’s the plan now?”

“We wait until another lift pulls up right by us. We drop on that one. We ride it to the express elevator stop. Drop through the ceiling panel, then go down to the lobby and out.”

“You make it all sound so simple… I know you’re just making this up as you go along.”

Ted shrugged whilst clinging to the counter-weight.

A few minutes later, the pair of friends dropped through a ceiling panel, and stepped out of the lift.

...right in the path of one very unimpressed Dr Susan Storm.

“Aww Hell… I didn’t see you there...”




The Blue Beetle ran across Madison Avenue and found himself in the lobby of the Four Freedoms Plaza. He crossed the floor to the elevator bay and pried a set of doors open. He looked up.

The elevators were locked off on one of the top floors of the building.

Ted stepped back from the shaft and considered what this could mean.




“What’s your name?” Reed Richards asked.

“Carter Johns.”

“That means nothing to me.” Reed rebuffed bluntly, turning and pointing at his partner in crime. “You! What’s your name?”

“Ted Kord. He’s here with--”

“Ah. There it is. Engineering leaning. Your test suggested a favour towards practical science application over the theoretical. One of the few high scores to do so, in fact. It made me wonder if we tilted the test too strongly towards the theoretically minded-- Hey! I’m still talking!”

Ted’s attention wavered. He looked beyond the scientist at the things that were happening behind him, as the other three tried to make sure they got all of the foam off of the large one. Ted stifled a laugh.

“Yes. You are. You’re still talking. And you haven’t said anything since we got here.”

Carter Johns looked on at his friend in shocked amusement, disbelief at his friend’s boldness. Sensing how impressed his friend was spurred Ted on further.

“I win some science competition that my school makes me take, and the ‘prize’ is I get to be stuck on the Amtrak with my teacher for a day, for what? An extra chemistry lesson? To see a robot and the deathtrap you plan on trying to go to space in? No. If that’s what this is, I don’t want it and I don’t need it. I’ve been to museums at home. My Dad’s taken me to the Kennedy Space Center before. All of this…? This isn’t a prize to me. I’m being punished for doing something successfully. You’ve set broken incentives, if I were back home we'd be playing video games by now.”

Carter stifled laughter at the audacity of Ted telling off the renowned scientist.

Reed looked at Carter, considering him and his part in the fact this adolescent was speaking to him in this way, and then smiled knowingly.

“Johnny, could you come and take Carter here to the gallery? Show him the simulation center. Maybe fire up some games. I’m going to speak with Ted alone for a few minutes.”

The college aged young man led Carter away. Ted threw him a reassuring confident grin.

“Why did you do that to Ben and to the lab?”

“I just told you, I don’t--”

“I heard what you said in front of your friend. And I saw you keep glancing at him for his approval. And I saw how his impression of you affected what you were saying. Ted, you care far too much what other people think about you.”

Ted closed his mouth.

“Do you want to know what I think? Because a lot of people do, generally. I think you’re used to being the smartest one in the room. I think you’re used to dealing with teachers who you’re quite possibly smarter than. Which I empathize with, it’s not an easy situation to deal with either as student or teacher. And I think-- well, you told me yourself, that you’re used to taking every test with the mentality of what success in it can do for YOU. Not every test in your life is going to work that way. Finally, I don’t think you respect what you have. Which is probably the greatest failure in your education so far.”

Ted opened his mouth again and nothing came out.

“The testing process is for gathering information. Data. Nothing more, nothing less. Incentives, generally, can tamper with results. No. You’re not getting any kind of scholarship here. Or cash prize. Or ‘Storm-Richards internship’ that would pave the way to a fast-track career in science that would allow you to slack off. It was to identify bright young talents, and to provide a place for free thought and open experimentation without the same shackled structure of the school system.” Reed dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a fistful of carefully made pins.

“These pins are electromagnetically coded. They operate the magnetic security readers on the doors and elevators throughout the building. Including to the fully stocked, unmonitored laboratory for the Children of Tomorrow.”

Ted was staggered, he couldn’t move and was speechless - generally a new experience for him -, Reed Richards walked on.

“I’ve gathered my data. For a while I was curious, your test results were interesting and you even had my attention for a while with your comments regarding our spacecraft. But now, upon further evidence I see that you’re just a loudmouth seeking attention. Striking at anyone you see as being viewed as an authority figure in order to garner further approval from your friend.”

“So thank you, Ted Kord.” Reed Richards lobbed him a pin. “Congratulations on joining the LAST class of the Children of Tomorrow. Thanks to you, I think I’m quite sure I’ve received all the information I need from future generations. If you’ll please wait here in the elevator bay, we’ll have your friend sent out.”

Ted couldn’t remember feeling more alone than at that very moment. And Ted’s memory was impeccable.




Ted jogged down the steps from the second floor, back to the first. He’d have to work fast now, he'd used his old pin - usually kept as just a bitter reminder - to force the call on the elevator down to the floor above. He quickly pried open the elevator doors, holding them open with his foot. He fumbled inside his belt pulling out a second grapple line.

He heard a “Ding!” as the elevator finally hit the floor above. He reached up and attached the grapple line to the undercarriage of the lift. He heard feet shuffle back inside the lift. The Blue Beetle couldn’t see, but it seemed a fair bet by his assumption that they were armed, checking on who had managed to call the lift down to the second floor in the first place.

Yes, he knew the Four Freedoms Plaza. And he knew that nobody who worked in this place would willingly have had anything to do with any of this madness.

The lift carried the Blue Beetle onwards and upwards. Hopefully to answers and a resolution to all of this.
He HAS popped in and out... but yes. Can't be sure he'll answer. Still, season 2 is a little ways off and he should only be a few days at the worst case scenario, @NinaDivine. Should have an answer soonish.
Ryand'r wouldn't be gender bent. You might be thinking of Komand'r.
Depending on my motivation early this week, Cap and/or Arsenal may be joining the fight at Four Freedoms Plaza. Just have to figure out how to tie off some loose ends.


Catch you there...
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