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Around Town - Stories

Post-Session: 9

A look at what happened during and/or after Session 9.

Story - Night Stalking

Game Date: 8/31/2004
Location: San Francisco, California

Who: Prime

Like a gargoyle perched atop the courthouse roof, the black-clad figure silently hunched over the edge of the supermarket. His dark eyes scanned the cart-strewn asphalt wasteland below like a vulture picking out its next meal. His cape rustled in the gentle breeze, fanning out behind him like a set of ebon wings. Then, the plaintive cry of 'shoplifter!' rang out as a figure bolted through the sliding glass doors. At last. Action!

With a muffled 'humph', the figure dropped to the ground below and let loose with a mighty cry of, "Halt in the name of Black Bat, legendary dark hero of nine successful comic series and a line of highly popular decorative plates!" When this battle cry did not, against all probability, have the desired effect, his eyes narrowed and the tension was released with a muffled, Oh. Hamburger. Why doesn't that work in real life?', then the figure shrugs and holds his gloved hands out in front of him.

Almost instantly, a dozen tendrils of brilliant blue energy course between his outstretched hands, blowing away the gloves in a thousand pieces like a neglected paycheck in the washing machine. The tendrils of energy twined around and danced atop the metallic orange fur beneath as a volley-ball sized sphere of cosmic energy formed between the figure's paws. A slight shift of the palm, and the sphere hurled towards the fleeing suspected shoplifter, growing as flies, until the target is encased from ankle to neck in a glowing energy that grows more solid with each passing moment.

With a triumphant grin, the caped figure approaches his trussed up prey. Then pauses as realization dawns. "Oh. Um. Sorry, Mr. Security Guard. I thought you were. Um. Err. Never mind. I'll just be on my way..." With a mighty leap, Prime soars into the sky, cape flapping behind him. Flapping, then unfortunately snagging onto a passing light pole by an unlucky gust of wind. Instead of a graceful line, Prime found himself flying in an ever tighter circle. There was barely enough time to squawk, "Oh, Sh...," before he found himself face-to-face with the light pole. There was the sound of ripping fabric as the cape gave way beneath the strain and Prime found himself landing with a thud on the concrete below. As stars and planets wheeled overhead, Prime grumbled, "Okay. No capes next time." His gaze fell on the bits of melted fabric still clinging to the furry backs of his hands and added, "And no gloves... Maybe the whole dark prowler of the night costume thing was a bad idea in general... I wonder if I can get my deposit back at the costume shop..."


And so began the mighty battle of wit and will between Prime and Mr. Twilliger, owner of the Discount Costume Emporium and the adjoining Potato Hut. Dark and terrible were the words exchanged that day, as each fought with the ferocity of a starved dog over a fresh bone. But in the end, Prime emerged in triumph, having had to pay the entire replacement cost of the costume, as well as a hefty sum for emotional distress, but in return receiving an all-you-can-eat pass to the potato buffet. An error in judgment that Mr. Twilliger would regret for many long years to come.

Record Last Changed Date: 5/5/2007

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