The 10th Professor's Adventures: Minisode 3

The 10^th Professor's Adventures – Minisode 3

    Sometimes peace and quiet is all that one hopes for in-between adventures in the multiverse. Sometimes you get a super villain, sometimes you get an errant child in charge of an empire, or sometimes you get something as simple as a child who had their cat run up a tree in fear. It isn't one to question what brings one to the next universe to see, to explore the possibilities. So, during one of their breaks in the void, The Professor found himself eyeing through one of his photo albums again, an elegant Number One emblazoned on the cover and on the spine to denote the incarnation, as he stared at the last page of the album. Lost in memory, he began to smile, remembering the simpler times, as Cynthia screamed in from another room. Without another word, The Professor dove out of his red chair running into the hallway, to check what was wrong, sending the album to the floor, and a single picture falling out of it. The Last Picture. A Man, with Brown hair, sitting in a red velvet chair, facing away from the camera, the walls a slight lime green in tone from the original console room, the doors open in front of the chair. Next to him, a small diner table, with a Sprite sitting on it, as the man overlooks the beautiful stitched up quilt like pattern of the multiverse....

    The Professor lay back in his old chair as he watched what had become of his most favorite sites. There were certain sections of the multiverse he always came by to see, before going off to explore again. He could still hear Starbright yelling at him now, saying they were off schedule sometimes, or hearing bits and pieces of conversation as he wandered the halls on certain hours, like a memory or a phantom of the past. He slowly looked to his old shoes, setting them aside, as he lifted up his ankle, to see the slightly spreading cracked like pattern on it.

    He had been careless. Since deciding on one fateful day to do more than just be a scientist, he was always careful, but he wanted to help others. He could remember now, this fantastic battlefield, that Starbright read in one of her books, and so off they went for study. He can picture the moment, him getting ready for another picture, ready for their research, when he saw it. This little child, barely older than 4 years old, holding a bear, staring. Just staring. At him? At her surroundings? He couldn't tell, not even now, rethinking about that moment, but that was the moment his life...his lives, changed forever. When he decided to help those who the stories don't talk about. The unknown.

    It was on one of these adventures, as old as he was getting, he got careless. Walked right into a villain's trap and set it off, with a poisoned dart hitting him right in the ankle. And now, as he sat there, watching the quilt, he knew. Either old age would take him, take his original face, or the poison would, as he lost the fighting battle with it.

    He eyed to the table, taking the Sprite off of the table and taking a drink before returning his gaze out the doors. “I don't regret it, you know.”

    The TARDIS thrummed in response.

    “I don't. Not one moment. If I could I would want to do it for the rest of my lives. Star would say it was for research, but no. It's meeting them. Meeting the people you don't hear about. You don't see in the pages or the pictures.”

    The TARDIS whirled a bit.

    The Professor chuckled. “Yes, Yes I know, I would have to be more careful....” He coughed, from deep within his lungs. After the coughing fit ended, he slowly sighed. “I am scared a bit, you know....But New Life is, just another adventure, don't you think?”

    Slowly, he laid back in his red velvet chair, taking long breaths, before the breaths became raspy, troubled, labored. “Like following....” He took another breath. “The second star, wouldn't you agree?”

    The TARDIS thrummed sadly, which prompted him to slowly extend his hand to the door, and rub it with his finger, slightly.

    “Don't be sad, Old friend...” He spoke, getting more and more tired with each word. “I'll...I'll be.....alright...” With those words, The First Professor shut his eyes, and went still, as the doors slowly shut in front of him, and the TARDIS took off to parts unknown.

    The Professor slowly picked up the final photo from the ground, staring at it. With a slight smile on his face, he returned it to the final page of the First Photo Album, and returned it to the bookshelf, making sure to clean the spines of the other photo albums as he eyed them over. “One decision, can make all the difference in a lifetime....” He spoke to himself, before giving a chuckle. “Well, Multiple Lifetimes, anyway.”

The 10th Professor's Adventures - Episode 5

 The 10^th Professor's Adventures: Episode 5

Part 1

    Sometimes traveling the Multiverse can indeed lead to boredom. Trying to keep oneself busy without constantly jumping from universe to universe, instead to give the mind a rest is a natural process. Rest the mind to help it wander over the next adventure and adventures to come. It's why the Professor found himself in his console room, reading an old book, silent, wearing nearly made fake spectacles to try them out, as he listened to classic rock and roll coming in from his cassette player. He couldn't help but smile a bit as he read, readjusting his glasses as he shifted in his chair. That was, however, until he heard a loud groan and a frustrated Cynthia stepping out of the corridor, shaking her head a bit trying to get it to comb down, having redressed herself.

    “How long did you want to wait, again, Professor?” Cynthia asked, giving up on her hair and just tying it into one long ponytail, letting it curve up at the end.

    The Professor slightly sighed, pocketing the fake spectacles and placing the book on the end table next to him. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright before we went again. May I remind you, that you did face a Vampire and saw death for the first time in a very long time indeed, being out here in the Multiverse.”

    “Professor...” She looked at him, giving him a slight smile, before walking up to the console, The Professor quickly joining her, beginning to work. “I'm not a kid anymore. But thanks for the worry, I'm fine. It just....You forget sometimes that in stories, and in other universes Happily Ever After isn't a universal right.”

    “Exactly. Stories are told and retold and rewritten and changed, from each one that hears it. We came from a universe in which My People and Her's were locked in an endless war, That was and is their time war. Their war to end all wars. Sometimes there are those who flee to hide. Sometimes there are those who flee to wish to help those downtrodden. Then, as we saw, there are people who flee to do their own bidding, to make their own stake and claim.” The Professor slowly pulled over the screen, eyeing it. “That is why the Unknowns are so interesting to see and tell. Sure the main story is what everyone comes for, but when one gets to meet that one shop owner whose store was demolished by a superhero fight, or a nameless hostage by a second-class villain, or any millions and millions of unknown faces and unknown stories to tell, it fills in the gaps and holes of what is truly important in Multiversal Travel.”

    The Professor worked on the console, as his mind began to wander. “Cynthia, if only you were there sooner....To see the Twin Sunsets on a Flat Desert plain, or the battle for freedom between Interuniversal Foes, heroes and Villains......” He couldn't help but smile a bit. “What I have learned over the years is that when one gets to see these sights, it blinds them to the things that are important, their own stories, and their own experiences.”

    “Which is why you take breaks out here in the void reading dime novels.”

    “Or working on things, whatever to keep hobbies to help.” He looked to his companion. “I am a different man to the ginger haired hero. Age sometimes does not bring wisdom, but experience. But you're right, we've been in the void too long. Perhaps we shall go to another universe. And I've got a clue or two. Well, Let's just throw it to chance, shall we?” With a grin, the Professor pulled down a lever, and the time rotor began to rise and fall.

    The rain poured, as it did every day here in the small little town. A man, holding an umbrella sitting on a bench under an covering , could hear the rain beginning to pour from his umbrella as he tried to get some reading in. On the front cover of his newspaper, it was always the same. Stories about booking decisions, small town gossip, and the one big headline, almost plastered every time. “THE VILLAINNESS STRIKES AGAIN!” in big bold letters. He couldn't bear to read anymore, as he tossed his newspaper into the rain and sat there, listening to the beating sounds. Behind him, however, a shadow would begin to form. A Cloaked figure, moving closer and closer to the man on the bench, him paying no heed.

    His carelessness would get the better of him, as he straightened up on the bench, feeling a black glove on his throat. A soft snicker, almost barely audible due to the pounding of the rain, echoed in his ear.

    “Taking a walk, are we? You should know by now to be more careful.”

    The man tried to speak, but that only lead for him to be stretched back further, spotting long black hair, ending in red points, and a mask on her face with rivets and bolts. His eyes grew wide.

    “Twice now I told them this was MY city, and they pay me no heed. Nothing, no one to test, you move along your simple lives like nothing ever happened. Do you think I am as simple a problem, that'll just go away if you pretend it isn't there?” Her laugh echoed in his ear. “Then perhaps I make it more convincing for them to take me seriously.”

    All the man could utter was a whimper, as he could hear her laughing get louder, and the pain in his neck as he began to feel it being squeezed.

    The Professor slowly stuck his head out of the TARDIS doors, hearing the rain pour down in buckets upon the pavement and brickwork around him. “Ok....” He spoke softly. “Maybe What I was hoping for was a vacation, not Washington State in Winter. But, we go with the punches,. I guess.” He stepped out, rubbing his hands as he eyed where they landed. For an alleyway, it was quite clean, no trash bags, no dirty dumpsters, the walls and ground was clean, and even the old trashcans had a slight shine to them. As he heard the TARDIS doors close behind him, he spotted Cynthia, gripping onto an umbrella and eyeing him with this look of subdued anger.

    “You know, if I had known I would have gotten two showers today I would have worn different clothes...”

    “Oh don't be like that, Cynthia. At least we landed in a clean area, and from what it looks like, it's a moderate sized city to boot!” The Professor grinned a bit, as he stepped out to the edge of the alley. However, just like last time, something felt off to him. People paced and walked around, eyeing each other with scared or hate filled glances, dodging each other every way they could so they wouldn't touch each other. One man walked right in front of the Professor, before throwing his newspaper into a garbage can and storming off, almost getting into a fight with another man who just walked out of a barber shop.

    Cynthia slowly joined him, catching another almost brawl, two women on the other side of the street, swinging high heels at each other, both on opposite arms of a man who clearly looks disturbed and afraid at his predicament. “You sure this is the right place, Professor? A good place for once?”

    “Ok, maybe I overexaggerated...” The Professor spoke, eyeing the catfight on the other side of the street before heading off down the sidewalk. “But at least we're in a nicer location, and I assure you, this time, no Vampi-”

    Then came this loud boom. The force of it did not reach the two, or anyone on the street around them, but the sound carried away sent the two Universal travelers to the ground, as smoke began to rise from a nearby building, forming a skull before dissolving away. Fire trucks, Alarms, sirens began to wail in the distance as the Professor slowly looked to his companion.

    “Ok.” He spoke. “Perhaps We're in the thick of it again.” Slowly rising to his feet, he took her hand, and helped her off of the wet ground, before running towards the scene. “Brave heart, Cynthia.”

    For how close it felt like the explosion was, as the two arrived on the scene it was mayhem. It looked to be an old and abandoned townhouse, the entire front blown out like some kind of cannon or a paper bag with the bottom blown out with air. Bricks, wood, and other debris scattered around the street and block in front of it, still smoldering away from the blast. As the two tried to fight through the quickly forming crowd, they were able to spot the back end of the home, where all of the furniture was thrown out due to the explosion, leaving a single spray-painted message on the back walls of the showing rooms. “HOW LONG, HOW MUCH DAMAGE, BEFORE YOU TOY WITH ME?”

    The Professor almost shivered a bit, backing up a bit against a building nearby to him, and ripping out his old leather bound tome, eyeing through the pages, as Cynthia slightly covered her mouth in shock. “Professor...” Her throat finally forced the word out.

    “I don't know, wait, hang on, surely....” He was panicked, his mind running through ideas and details of this scene, as Police began to arrive, clearing the crowd away. He sighed a bit, pocketing the journal before taking Cynthia's hand. “We have to follow them, Cynthia. We can't stay-”

    “HOW LONG, JERKS?!” A voice in the crowd screamed. “HOW MANY NEAR CALLS BEFORE YOU TAKE HER SERIOUSLY?!”

    The two travelers watched as a small group of angry pedestrians walked up to the scene, yelling in the faces of a couple of the cops, as one pulls out a megaphone.

    “There is nothing to see here, folks, Just a prank mixed in with mistimed Gas explosion.” The officer spoke calmly, standing on the bonnet of one of his police cars, looking directly at the quickly forming crowd. “Just a Prank, We have everything under control here, There is no worry.”

    The Two travelers quickly hurry into a nearby alleyway as more and more people begin to crowd at the scene. The Professor took a deep breath, before taking off with Cynthia, the loud screaming and yelling of the crowd echoing in their ears as they hurried away.

    “The hell is going on here, Professor....” Cynthia spoke, trying to keep at pace. “Where did the TARDIS send us to?!”

    “I'm trying to figure that out, but there's nothing yet, there's no telltale clues!”

    “Are you telling me that a building exploding is not a clue on where we are?! This is different- Way different than a vampire's feeding Frenzy!”

    “I know that!” He spoke, slowing down as they reached the sidewalk on the other side of the alleyway. “We have to ask around, act like locals, find out what is going on. Something is fishy in Denmark, Cynthia....”

    The two looked to each other, before eyeing back at the crowd, watching the smoke pool into the sky, mixing with the rain-filled clouds and sending the ash falling right back to the ground. The Professor cleared his throat as he eyed at the scene. “Something is going on here, Cynthia. We need to find out what, and quickly.”

    As the two took off down the sidewalk, looking for anyplace they could go to find out some information on where they were, in another alley, a shadow began to form. A Robed figure in black, with spiked black boots, torn up black jeans, a black t-shirt with a matching black and silver overcoat....and that bolt and rivet mask. Underneath, a quickly forming grin across the face. “Well now...” The figure spoke. “Do I finally have my own detective to toy with, I wonder?” The figure laughed, as she stared at the man in the green coat, almost licking her lips under the mask. “I wonder who my new detective is...Time to do some digging of my own.” She chuckled, walking off deeper into the shadows.

    As the two travelers entered the dingy bar on the corner of another block, they looked completely soaked. In the path of 4 diners and a gas station in the city, places where people could meet up, and twice they got chased away or got no response to their questions. Trying to catch his breath, the Professor eyed up slightly. The bar was old, must have been around a while, with the 70s wood paneling all around them, the old bar and bar stools, and no tables, just a couple booths where a few patrons have gathered, all gruff looking men, drinking at the end of the day, for a variety of reasons. “.....Quite a rain storm out there....” The Professor spoke, hoping to break the silence. The two actually sighed in relief when they got a acknowledged grunt from multiple patrons, as the two slowly walked to the bar. The bartender was similarly scruffy, with bushy eyebrows, a long mustache, eyes barely opened, a bald head that barely shone in the low light, as they could hear the old television in the corner rattling off a news report or two.

    “What can I get, two tourists?” He spoke, his voice raspy.

    “Tourists?” Cynthia asked, sitting on one of the stools. “How'd you guess?”

    “You're not frightened to hell of workin' day to day. Still got your smiles about you, too.” The man never showed emotion on his face, but you could tell he could at least fell them, as he turned around to face the bottles. “Like I said, what can I get the visitors?”

    “Well I-”

    “Two Club Sodas and a newspaper, please.” The Professor spoke quickly, eyeing around the bar. It's right, the mood did seem a little low, even for what had transpired earlier, something more was hanging in the air. The bartender huffed a bit, but gave a small chuckle, heading to go work the order.

    As the Professor pulled out his research journal again, he couldn't help but notice the old television, crackling on about the news of the explosion. A couple moments go by, silent, as the patrons watch it, and the riot afterwards, before one of the patrons grumbles and goes to his drink.

    “Proudest force we got...” The older man spoke, sitting in the booth closest to the door. “Scared of a dam teenager....”

    “Oy.” Another man spoke up, on the other side of the booth. “Don't belittle it. You know the reason.”

    “The reason?” Cynthia turns to them, the second man goes quiet, walking away to another booth, as the older gentleman coughs a bit before sipping his drink again.

    “The reason why we act like a bunch of sissies and let a dam teenager go around like a dam rebel.” The man spoke, laying back in the bench, as Cynthia joins him, on the other bench. “I tell ya, ever since those superfreaks......” He growls a bit with his old throat, coughing, this time into a handkerchief he pulls from his pocket before lowering it. “Follow the code, they say, they'll get bored, pay them no heed......Like that even works anymore....”

    “What's happened here, Sir?” Cynthia asked, looking into the older man's eyes, as he stares back, full of shame and rage.

    “We got one of them villains in our city, that's what happened. Like out of one them comic books....” Cynthia could hear the Professor straighten up on the stool, quickly turning page after page, like his mind clicked on something.

    “Surely you have a hero to call on, then?” The Professor asked, and a few of the patrons chuckled.

    “This ain't no comic book.” The old man spoke. “We get the bad end of the deal. Just the ones willing to destroy everything, and we get told to just....let it happen. Move on, don't give attention.....Like that works anymore....” Cynthia noticed the Professor stop on a page, head down, reading as the bartender sets the drinks and newspaper down, the Professor pulling a 20 out of his pocket and handing it to him.

    “Keep the change.” He spoke, as the Bartender walked off, taking the paper and reading.

    Cynthia eyed back to the old man, grumbling as he took another sip of his drink. “And so because there's no heroes....The best thing to do as they said, was to just ignore them?”

    “Ignore and avoid.” The old man grumbled. “Worked in the beginning....Then they started picking their own cities to stay in. Vain, they are, and still no one does anything.....” He looked up slightly. “Thanks for being interested in some old man's ramblings, but I think yer drink's arrived.” She nodded, quickly stepping away as the old man sighed, leaving his drink half finished before heading out of the bar, holding his head as he grumbled. “Useless...completely....” They hear the door creak open and slam shut.

    The Professor eyed the front page, folding the paper in half and slowly held it next to the open page of his journal. “A Universe where villains came first....Supervillains....” He whispered to Cynthia as she rejoined him at the bar.

    “Supervillains?” She whispered. “Like, Like actual powers and the whole 9 yards?”

    He nodded. “Usually what happens in stories is the Hero comes first, probably coming to help their town or city, one kids or adult gets jealous, angry, and forms around and becomes a villain. This universe is different. Probably some event came to give out powers and as we saw on the street, with how people acted towards one another already?”

    “....They began using it for themselves...”

    He snapped his fingers, showing her the paper as she took a sip of her Club Soda. “Two killed, 3 robberies, Vandalism, and now a house explosion.” He whispered. “What happens when a narcissist isn't fed attention? You should know, you were almost beaten to a pulp by one in a back room.”

    Cynthia slowly took the paper, eyeing the front page, eyeing the headline before eyeing around for the important bit. “Professor.” She whispered. “There's no picture.”

    “Course there's not.” He whispered back. “Freedom of Speech allows people to write the stories, but when you're under the rule of ignoring the main problem, that means you can write it but no pictures for the main story.”

    “Then we have a Problem, Professor, if we don't know what they look like.”

    The Professor stops, eyeing back at the paper, before eyeing back at his companion. “Good point.” He eyed back at his journal. “Is that why we were brought here, I wonder.....?”

    Cynthia smiled a bit. “Giving hope. Normal Tuesday for us, you know. To help others.”

    “Supervillains are one nasty business to deal with....” He looked to her, but he can't help but give a very faint smile. “But this time we can't wait for the story to catch up to the times. Who knows how many people could get hurt in the wait.”

    “Then what do you want me to do?”

    “If we're gonna do it this time, then we have to be careful. Play cards slowly.” He eyes around the bar, leaning in to make the whispering even quieter. “I need you to go to the library, see if you can get anything similar to the newspaper. I'm going to go back to that house, look for evidence. And Cynthia?” She looked right at him. “This isn't a vampire we're dealing with. You won't be safe by garlic or sunlight or fire or anything like that.” He sighs a bit. “I can't believe I am going to say this....Mind over Muscle.”

    She nods, getting up and taking the newspaper with her, stopping at the door and looking back to him, as he mouths. “Be Careful. Calm and collected. But when it happens, and you need to, fight like you haven't fought before.” He gave her a smile, as she headed out of the bar, the Professor pocketing the journal, waiting a few moments to give space, before he too walked out, leaving an extra 5 dollar bill on the bar for a thank you for the atmosphere.

    The cloaked figure watched from the alleyway as they saw the two figures walk in opposite directions. She could feel the grin begin to form on her face as she could see the man in the green coat eye around before turning back to one of her art pieces, while the woman was walking towards another building. “Splitting up, are we?” She thought to herself, watching as the woman eyed building after building, searching for something, as she chuckled to herself. “Then they are exploring options. Testing me.” She grinned wider. “Then I wonder how, to play this game of theirs. Heroes and Villains.” With a final chuckle, she cracked her knuckles, before silently slipping out of the alleyway, following behind the woman in the leather jacket.

PART 2

    As the Professor explored through the wreckage of the house, he couldn't help but feel off. Every step he took underneath the roof that barely hung onto the damaged remaining walls, he felt like eyes were watching him, as his hand ran along the words on the back wall. “Spray paint...” He spoke, trying to be quiet as to not draw more attention to himself. “Fast acting....But the wall feels hot, like the words themselves were imprinted before the paint...” Taking another few steps, his eyes locked onto a burst open pipe, buried behind what looks to be the remains of a collection of cabinets. As he got lower, he could see something....off about them. The whole length of the pipe, was cold, cold enough to form icicles on it, but where the pipe blew, the pipe must have gotten so hot that it melted some of the plastic, for even at the distance he was looking at he could see the outstretching of waves in it. “...Temperature breath....” The Professor spoke to himself, trying to stay a safe distance from it, even though the gas had long since been burnt out of the pipe. “Close off the valve, freeze it, and then light the explosion point....She really is starting to get annoyed now, if they're doing this kind of damage so brazenly....”

    “HEY!” He heard a voice behind him. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THERE?!”

    Without another word, the Professor took off out of the wreck of the house, as fast as he could, hearing a whistle go off behind him and then footsteps on the wet ground behind him. Hurrying into an alley, he half expected a way out, lose his pursuer, before almost abruptly he found himself face to face with a wall blocking up the alleyway. Dead end. He sighed, backing up against the wall, turning around to see a young police officer, barely 21 or 22 years old, dressed up in an older police uniform as a form of initiation perhaps, but without a word the Professor raised his hands up as the young officer stood at the other end.

    “You could have just walked up!” The Professor yelled. “I was doing some investigation of my own, until you startled me!”

    “QUIET!” He heard the young officer say, shaking with his flashlight and whistle in hand. “Who are you?”

    “My name is the Professor. Believe me, I am not some kind of insane rambling idiot trying to trick you, I meant what I said.”

    “Alright then, “Professor”.” The Officer spoke, walking closer, now barely at least a couple yards away. “What were you doing in that house? Did you not notice the tape?”

    “I told you, I was doing my own investigation, since I heard the Police are following the no contact rule when it comes to Supervillains and their ways of trying to get notice.”

    “It's the safest option.” The Officer repeated, as if from memory out of a book. “Investigating? Or causing trouble? You're lucky I don't arrest you now, poking your nose into business that will only get you harmed.”

    “Get me h- HARMED?!” The Professor yelled. “And you think closing off and ignoring someone doing that kind of damage is the smart thing to do?!”

    “They move on. They always do.”

    “NOT NOW!” The Professor yelled, taking his own step forward as the Officer backs up. “Think about it. Honestly, think, do you honestly think this being would just give up everything after THAT light show?!” The Professor took slow breaths as he backed up the young Officer, thankfully without a weapon, but could still be highly dangerous, since this IS in a universe of superpowers after all. “Tell me, do you even know what happens, at the end of a cycle like the one your problem is making?”

    “KEEP YOUR HANDS UP! BACK UP!” The Officer yelled, but it could tell it wasn't working, as he backed up into a dumpster. “Wh...What do you mean, the end of a cycle?”

    Cynthia, however, was having a much easier time on her end. Having found the library in a small townhouse like building, she found herself crammed into a space barely able to sit let alone move around, as books were stacked up high, on bookshelves around her, thrown around the floor, even some were hung from the ceiling with clamps, just to get more books into the building. As she tried to get any movement she could deeper into this library, she could only spot what looked to be an old lamp, covered up as to not harmed the books, and barely lit, just enough to give light to read. “An abandoned library in a town hall...” Cynthia whispered to herself. “To one so full you have to go through boot camp just to find anything...Next time, he's going to the library...” Each second passed on, as she tried to look at book spines, but the books were far too closed together, creating black shadows that hid the spines. She wondered if she could yelled to the librarian, or if they would even hear her, buried under all this. However, she did not notice or hear the front door being opened, or even the bell, buried under all those books.

    The Librarian, a young woman with a tied up bun in her blonde hair, old 80s styled glasses, and shaky hands, slowly looked up from her desk built right into the wall next to the door. With a quick smile, she watches as a woman with black hair came into the building, all covered up from the rain with a black cloak, so black she was unable to see anything she was wearing. “Hello, Welcome to the small town library.” The Librarian repeated. “What can I get you today, are you looking for something specific?”

    Cynthia couldn't hear anything from her location, but as the seconds went by she had this feeling. This bad feeling, something was horribly wrong. She kept going deeper and deeper into the books, now not so much as looking through them as looking for an exit out. The muffled sounds of the conversation behind her started to get a little heated, she could hear it getting louder and louder, before one of the voices going silent, struggling. Her eyes widened, as she reached the other side of the house, and nothing but wall greeted her. She didn't have time. Taking a breath, she began punching through, using a couple books to keep the dust and insulation away from her face, as she kept punching, trying to tear her way through, as a muffled scream echoed from behind her. The Librarian.

    “Let me explain to you the problem you have.” The Professor spoke, dragging the young police officer with him as they walked back to the front of the house. “Let me explain what happens in these sorts of scenarios. Yes, you are correct, you don't feed their addiction to fame, if one is a narcissist, you were right, but in this situation, when one does not want to leave, you must confront them.”

    “Sir, I'm sorry, but I don't quite follow!” The young officer spoke. “You just said that feeding it is bad, this is what we have been trying to stop! Is people giving them attention!”

    The Professor stopped, eyeing back at him with a puzzled look. “Do you twist words to fit your beliefs in your head or are your ears so full you can't hear me. You have a problem that isn't going to go away because people are looking away, pretending their city isn't in mortal danger. They've taken root. They want action, and now that they have taken root, you must join to meet them.” Slowly, he pointed to the shell of the house behind them. “What happens when one ignores a problem for too long is that they grow rot. A seedy underbelly, people believe they don't need help and try to strive to fix the problem themselves. So the process will continue of more damage and more ordinary people getting involved, until someday those people who try to help look at the people ignoring them for the same reasons that they are ignoring the issue and the problem gets worse.” He eyed the young officer. “Until one day you look in the mirror and all you see is someone who could have done something, stopped it here, proved you could have done something, and then you join in the ranks. You want to stop this problem? You think of solutions, not putting a piece of tape over a fault line and think you've solved the issue.”

    The Officer watched in bated breath as the Professor took his coat, fixing himself up before heading down the sidewalk. The anger was clear on the Professor's face, as he eyed him down, before just waving him away and turning to walk away.

    “Those are your options now.” The Professor spoke. “Either we find out how, now, to stop this, or watch as the city is either destroyed or becomes a cesspool of villainy and hatred.”

    The Officer stood there, shaking in his boots, as he watched the strange man walk away from him. This fear, this overwhelming fear overtook his mind as he began to picture in his head the future this man was envisioning. “No..” The officer thought to himself, as he eyed the man reach the end of the street.

    “WAIT!”

    The Professor skid to a stop, turning back to see the young officer eyeing him, slowly walking over all the while shaking like he was in a fresh winter snowfall. “Wait...” The officer slowly walked up to him, looking right at him. “What do we do, what can we do?.....I want to help, we can't, We can't let this continue on...”

    The Professor eyed him, before finally getting a small smile. “I have an idea. An inkling of one, I believe they have the power to heat up or freeze objects, it would explain how the house exploded, they froze the pipe then heated up a small section, giving it one point of failure, and that force made it into what we saw. Now, water can do amazing things, and we have plenty of it in a rainstorm, but there needs to be a focus. Do you have metal on you, anything? And take some of the stones and bricks here, we needs to find a lamppost.”

    “A lamppost?” The Officer raised his eyebrow. “Why do we need a lamppost?”

    “A Focus point. How rain runs off of buildings at their edges, a lamppost does the same.” The Professor grinned. “Now, The plan is-” Then the city was rocked again.

    Cynthia crouched against a dumpster, holding her head to stop the ringing as debris rained down all around her. This person, this thing was right there and she didn't have a clue. All she could hear was muffled sounds blocked up by all of the books around her, there was no way she could have heard anything coherent. Hell, She was lucky to get out of the building in time, having clawed her way out of drywall and who knows what else to get to this spot. So, as she tried to focus on getting her hearing back, she couldn't see the cloaked figure on the other side, walking slowly up to the corner of the dumpster.

    “My, My....Now what do we have here?” The movement stirred Cynthia enough to turn, as she faced the cloaked figure, her hood now down to reveal her facial features and the bolt and rivet laid mask covering her mouth. “Sidekicks are almost always the way to get the attention, aren't they? Especially when one walks so far away from their partner.”

    “Who....Who....?” All Cynthia could speak, all that she could get out of her throat as she tried to stand, only to be knocked back down to the ground with a well timed punch to the gut.

    The stranger could only help but grin as they stared at her. All this girl was to them was a chance, something to peak her curiosity, as they grabbed Cynthia's ponytail, and begun to drag her away. “Don't worry, Sidekick.” The Stranger spoke. “Soon your hero will come to the rescue. He has to after all, he's in FAR too deep.” And with a laugh, they dragged her down the alleyway into darkness, leaving no trace behind.

    As The Professor arrived on the scene, he could see the rubble that remained. Like the house before it, the entire front had blown out, leaving the frame, books scattering everywhere like bricks, some of them actually helping support broken bits of the house to try and and hold up the remaining structure, embedded into walls, smashed into windows all down the block. The young officer quickly arrived with him, eyeing the new scene, as they quickly got closer and closer to the inferno, watching the fire, a new escalation, burn away what was left of the interior.

    “Dear lord....” The young officer croaked, his throat dry with fear as his eyes traced around the burning ruin of the building. “Like a furnace, or a portal, that fire's burning so hot....” His eyes slowly turned to the Professor, who was looking over, at one of the nearby walls. “Professor? Professor, what's wrong?”

    The Professor took step after step, slowly, letting them echo into the void as he walked over to the wall next to the burning rubble. Sprawled across it, in green pain, was a message. But unlike the one inside the home, this one seemed to have an intended target. “YOUR SIDEKICK IS MINE, FACE ME, LIKE A HERO WOULD.” Slowly, his hands balled into fists, so tight he could hear his knuckles pop one by one. His eyes narrowed, as he heard the officer slowly walk up next to him.

    “Oh my....” Was all he could hear him say.

    “Where would they take her?”

    

    “Hmm?” The Officer asked, looking to the green clad man. “What?”

    “You heard me.”

    “Well, I, How would I, I mean-”

    The Professor slowly looked to him, giving him this cold look. “Think, sir. And quickly. Where would they take my companion? Surely you all had some idea of where this villain would have a hideout?”

    “Well, We have had a few ideas, but you can't be serious, you could be endangering yourself!-”

    “WHERE.” The Professor's eyes burn into him, rage beginning to settle into them as he eyed the young officer. “Where, that's all I'm asking. Let me worry about myself.”

    The officer looked at the man before him, before giving a small sigh. “There have been unrelated reports of warehouse disappearances, around one in particular...”

    “And you didn't trust them because of the given rule, of pretending they don't exist.”

    “How could we have known?” The Professor gives him another look, before taking off on his own, leaving the young officer there. “How could we have known?!”

    Cynthia tugged at her rope restraints as she started to regain consciousness. A slight tinge of anger set over her as she kept pulling and tugging at the rope, hearing the rain impact above her and around her. “Finally...” She thought to herself. “At least I'm not held captive in the rain....” She sighed a bit. Through her travels with the Professor, she had turned slightly into a damsel in distress, not of his own fault or hers, it just seemed to keep happening that way, her ending up on the inside and needing a way to escape. First, after returning to traveling with him, she goes locked up in a Vampire's dungeon for lunch, and now tied up who knows where by a lunatic. So, as she tugged at the ropes again, she tried to get a good look at her surroundings.

    Wherever she was, it was dark. The rain in the now evening sky was hiding most of the natural light, and there was none within this place that she could see. In fact, all she could see was a hole in the ceiling, where what looked like old metal roof tiles were peeled back, like something was ripped out of this.

    “Did you ever get so angry, You thought your teeth would crack from the clenching?”

    The voice in the darkness shook Cynthia for a moment. Her new captor has arrived, it would seem. “I know that type of rage. Only a couple times in my life, though.”

    “Then you know what it is like.” Cynthia noticed as what looked like mist began to float in the air, like one would do when it is cold outside. “You know, when you are bullied, harassed, forced into boxes again and again until there is nothing left of you but whatever was crafted for you. When the stars fell, I finally got my chance to be me. To be myself, and to live again. That was until I knew the price for my life returned to me.”

    “They didn't know....” Cynthia said, hoping to bluff her way to at least get another glimpse of her kidnapper. “We heard from a couple people, they just want to be safe, people attacking others, the cycle just spinning-”

    “IGNORED ME!” The voice screamed. “Ignored me! Everything I have done, I showed them, I tried, break the trends, and I get thrown aside and turned into nothing more than a common criminal. Even now, I was being put in with so many others....Well then, I thought, if that is what you wanted, Fine. I'll show you what a Super villain can do.”

    Cynthia watched as cold breath, breath so cold that it was forming icicles in the air just from the vapor in the air, pass close by to her.

    “All we need to do now is wait.” Her laughter echoed the bound fighter. “All we need to do is wait for your friend. Then I will show them. Show them all.” To punctuate her words, a quick rush of fire, like that out of a starting firework, came close to her, illuminate barely anything, but gave Cynthia a clear look of this woman's crazed eyes, staring back in glee.

    As the Professor stepped up to the old metal encased warehouse, for a moment he considered dropping it. Dropping his mind and running on pure instinct, fighting and swinging, just like the old days, for threatening one of his friends. Standing there at the door, it would seem easy to do so, especially given his temper. The longer he stood there, however, the more he realized how much that would betray himself. He promised himself, he would be different. Fight yes, but also think. Prove that he can be more than what he was given from the deck. So, he began to eye around his surroundings. The warehouse was close to the docks, which looked almost abandoned. No boats, so much trash gathered on the boardwalks, and the rain ruined tarps and paper gave everything an almost spooky vibe that even he had to admit was giving him the creeps. So, as his eyes scanned his surroundings, they finally stopped right onto this older street lamp, about a couple yards away, and his mind began to click. He looked back to the metal building, then to the street lamp, and quickly hurried over to it.

    “Perhaps....” He spoke to himself, eyeing up at the bulb in the lamp, smashed up and broken from the years of use. Quickly, he began searching his surroundings, taking off of the ground an old soda can and crushing it as tight as he can, using some of the waterlogged paper and pushing it onto the edges the can had formed. Then, he got down to the ground, quickly trying to open the lamp's base. “Maybe We don't need to trick her out somewhere, maybe we have everything we need right here....”

    Taking off of the panel, he eyed at the old electronics inside, hearing the buzzing as he let the panel clatter onto the old dock wood. He slowly grinned a bit. “Best not to cut power than try to fix the problem.” He eyed back to the light, throwing the mashed up can into the air, once, twice, then right into the bulb. The wires and glass within the bulb latched onto the can, sending sparks out and raining to the ground for a moment. “It's still live...” The Professor said with a grin, eyeing back at the wiring, then to the metal building.

    The final part needed something easy. A quick move, in order to get the electricity to the metal exterior, The Professor pondered, as he eyed around at his surroundings. Eventually, he grabbed one of the useless tarps, rain-logged, and laid it in the middle between the lightpost and the building, and then rolled two pieces of small pipe, the Tarp was protecting, into position. One, he shoved into the wiring, using his coat pockets to protect his hands, placing the other end on the tarp, in one of the quickly forming puddles. The other, he rolled into position next to the door, ready for the door to swing, to complete the circuit. He eyed at his handiwork, his machine, with a smile on his face, scratching his chin as he worked out how things should go in his head, before turning his attention back to the door. “........Come into my Parlor, Little Fly......” The Professor whispered to himself. “Yeah, Well.....I have a Bug Zapper ready for you, Spider.....” And with that, as gently as he can, as to not complete the circuit he just made, he slipped his way into the warehouse.

    The Warehouse was full. Completely full, on this side. Tall Crates surrounded him, like a Wooden Plank jungle, a couple of the crates having the musk and smell of rot rising from them. “Seems they've been here a long time....” The Professor whispered to himself, moving past them slowly, Stifling gasps and noises when he spotted cobwebs, keeping calm and collected the best he could as he tried to move. The farther in however, the darker it got, Metal sheets having been placed on the inner walls to try and absorb more and more of the sunlight, to hide oneself. When it finally became hard to see barely a foot or two in front of his face, he sighed, taking a good look around before he did something stupid. “Cynthia?” He whispered out. “Cynthia, are you there?” His voice echoed in the void around him, moving slower and slower, as he raised his hand up to feel around the darker and darker area.

    At first he could feel the temperature drop and rise on a dime, like he was nearing a furnace or a malfunctioning air conditioner, but the further into the void he walked, the more he could see particles, frozen drops of water on some crates, on others, deep scorch marks. It is from the embers and the reflection of the light that he could see them at all, this far into the warehouse. “....This is where you tested them, isn't it?” He spoke, in a more firm tone. “Where you ran to, scared and afraid of what was happening. Hell, anyone would. That doesn't mean you use them the way you have.”

    “Isolation. Insults. Tricks, Pranks, every day, no one giving you the time of day because all they see you as is a freak.” The voice took the Professor a bit off guard, as he eyed in the darkness for the source.

    “I was morphed into a Monster. I was told I was mad or crazy for my beliefs on what was out there, Don't try and guilt trip me.”

    “Then you know the Anger. The Resentment. The Rage one gets where day in and day out you are seen as nothing. Seen as lesser than.” The voice started getting closer and closer to him.

    “Yet You don't go around hurting others. You prove them wrong-”

    “No one listened!” Her voice screamed. “NO ONE LISTENED TO ME! Fine. I'll show them. Show them what they created. What they CAUSED!” The Professor is sent flying into a couple empty crates, crashing through the wood. He groaned a bit from the pain, as he eyed around, trying to find his attacker.

    “Stop this!” The Professor cried out. “Stop this nonsense, You know this is wrong!”

    “Wrong?” He heard the voice above him, on the top of one of the crates. “Wrong was passed a very long time ago.” He rolled out of the way, as a burst of fire rushed through from a hole in the top. “Wrong was passed when I looked in a puddle and I saw what had happened to me.” He quickly rolled the other way, as a blast of cold wind came through another, freezing the already charred straw packing material. “Wrong was passed when I asked for help and no one came. Called me a Villain, connected me with those lunatics......” The Professor quickly crawled into the other crate he had busted in, just as she crashed her way inside. The embers on her face gave the Professor a good look. Long ginger hair, down to her shoulders. Those eyes, that stared like daggers. No longer wearing her riveted mask, which revealed her power. Her top lip was charred, slightly, like the lip of a volcano's top, with fire and embers crackling in it. Her bottom lip was ice cold, blue, tiny icicles hung from it like pointed teeth or fangs, as she stared at the man before her. “She called you Professor, your little sidekick. I'm Renegade. And I'm what this city turned me into.” With those words, she goes for a swing, ready for a fight.

    Cynthia could see flame rush into the air from where she was hidden, the crashing into crates, and the screaming from both that mad woman and the Professor. She could hear the fight nearby, which only made her more and more angry, as she tugged at the ropes binding her. Here she is, useless, tied up as her friend is being attacked by some woman and she's can't do anything! She screamed out in rage, lashing out with her bound feet, hearing one of the crates crack open close to her, and her feeling sharp wood close to her leg as she drove her feet.....Sharp. Sharp wood. With all of her strength and anger beating through her heart, she pushed and crawled her away to the crate, putting her back to it, and began jamming it again and again into the rope restraints around her wrists. Again and Again she pulled and ripped at them, hearing the spike splinter but she didn't care. It was like she was fully focused on one mission, to get herself free. She could hear the rope, the fibers be ripped apart as she pulled at them, feeling blood trickle down her fingers from pricking her palm on the sharp wooden spike. Eventually, she could feel the ropes just slip away from her wrists, as she rubbed them to try and stop the rope burn. She took a deep breath, before standing, and heading for the cries of her friend.

    The Professor dove behind another crate, as he heard the wood crackle and smash. Maybe this wasn't as simple as he thought, as he thought back to his trap outside. Even if he was to electrify the outside shell, who knows how long it would hold her if she was alert. The problem got worse however as he felt the rush of air, wood and splinters flying close to him, as the side of the crate he was hiding behind just get turned to dust.

    “Where are you, hero?!” He could hear the mad woman scream. “Thought this would be easy, didn't you?! Try yourself against a girl like me?!” He could hear her laugh, almost giggle in delight from the situation.

    He took in a couple deep breaths, before moving to another crate, and then another. He had to keep distance, as he eyed back, even in the dark, listening for anything that could give her location. All he could hear though was the crackling of embers on old, rotten wood. “Where is she....” He thought to himself. “Her lips are cracked, you could...you should be able to see the fire....”

    That was, before he was sent to the floor by a rush of air. He could hear his hiding spot be torn to shreds, almost like kindling wood, as he quickly got onto his back, to see the girl looking back at him with a grin upon her face, walking up to him slowly, like a predator and a trapped prey. No words, just pure emotion. The Professor tried to hurry behind another crate, but his way was blocked by the coldest of breezes, icicles lodging into the crate he was facing, forcing him further back as she got closer and closer. “Would you really hurt, even kill someone over the pain still in your heart?!” He spoke, forcing the words from his throat. She didn't speak. In fact it was like she was running on autopilot now, the smirk on her face getting wider as she got closer. He shut his eyes, waiting for the eventual strike, or rush of air, when he heard a crack. An audible crack. Like the sound of flesh, hard, against bone.

    His eyes opened quick, to see Cynthia, her eyes flared up with rage, knocking away Renegade with one clear and hard punch right to the cheek. Quickly, he could see the bruising form as her eyes glared at the fighter. “Shoddy knots.” Cynthia spoke, cracking her knuckles. “You want a fight, then fine by me.” She ran for her, ducking from icicles flying her way from the frost breath, as she drilled another punch right to the super villain's gut. “Let me tell you about the man you tried to kill. I have seen him grow. He used to never give the chance I heard him give to you. He's kinder. You could have just walked away, and nothing would have been the wiser.” Cynthia's eyes narrowed, slugging her across the face into her other cheek. “You think just because you got thrown away, that gives you the right to make everyone else miserable? Loom over them like some kind of dictator? “Notice Me or Else”, huh? Then try this.” With one hard uppercut to the chin, the super villain crashed into a nearby crate, and slumped to the floor without another chance to attack. Cynthia cracked her knuckles again. “Glass Jaw. Typical.”

    The Professor's eyes were like beachballs, looking at his companion as she walked back over to him, holding out her hand. “Did she hurt you too bad?” She asked. He shook his head slowly, taking it and slowly rising to his feet.

    “I forgot how strong you got when you got angry....” He said, looking at her beaten opponent.

    “Oh please, you make me sound like the Hulk.” She chuckled. “You were in danger, I came to help. I'm liking this face anyway, I didn't want to see it go too soon.”

Christmas Hoedown verse

 It is that beautiful time of year, where the snow shines like jewels hanging from the trees,

The ground's a mix of sludge, water, and even some fallen leaves,

The family's gathers all around the Christmas Tree, with smiles upon their faces,

If only Christmas photos weren't ruined by Timmy's brand new braces.