Outlandish Tales from WWII - Issue #1: * in America!

[Harrigan]

OUTLANDISH TALES OF WORLD WAR II
ISSUE #1: * IN AMERICA!

Fort Wilson, Virginia, U.S.A.
Monday, November 15, 1943
9:05pm

Cold rain beat down on Jacob Kearney, rattling off his helmet, soaking his overcoat, pounding the shadowy countryside that surrounded him. Ahead, through the fog and mist, he could see the lights of Fort Wilson. It was well after dark and the drive had been a harrowing one, but Kearney had refused all offers of help or transport in getting to his destination. A damp, typewritten letter clutched in one of his hands, he approached the gate and waited until the MPs there noticed him.

Coming out of the gatehouse, the two soldiers walked through the muck and signaled for the stranger to make his intentions known, eying him warily, unsettled by his appearance. When the gas-masked man held his paper aloft, the younger of the two men took it and read it, rain drizzling off his nose.

“Yeah,” he said after squinting and reading it, “the brass has been expecting you. I’ll let ‘em know you’re here.”

The other soldier had un-shouldered his M1 Garand, the semi-automatic .30-06 carried by most of the U.S. forces fighting in Europe, Africa and the Pacific. “I read about you,” he said evenly. “And you can’t carry no weapons onto the base. Private Moore, collect his weapons. He should have a gas-bomb or something on him somewhere.”

Cauchemar * his head, still not speaking, but before the reluctant private could act on the order, a pair of headlights flashed through the night and a jeep pulled up to a stop just inside the gate. Captain Fred Stevens jumped out and ran to the gate, relieving the two soldiers with a look as they saluted him.

“Glad you could make it,” the officer said, extending his hand. “I’ll take it from here, Corporal. We’re expecting just one more – but he… well, he might not come in through the front gate.” Turning back towards the waiting jeep, Stevens jogged off. “Come on – the briefing’s going to start soon.”

* * * * *

The drive across the base wasn’t a long one, and Cauchemar soon found himself escorted inside what looked like a large, low-roofed hangar. The place was nearly empty; a half-dozen people mingled among a scattering of folding metal chairs, all of which were positioned around a projector and large, white screen. Several soldiers stood by in the back, on guard, and both a blonde military dame and a high-ranking General stood near the front of the room, her with measured precision and him with no small amount of impatience etched on his craggy, expressive face.

The old mystery man knew several of the people who had gathered, garishly-clad individuals who’d answered the same summons from Uncle Sam that he had. They were known by many names – crimefighters, vigilantes, masked men (and women, Cauchemar noted), heroes – it seemed to depend on the day of the week and the mood of the reporter as to what evocative terms were used. Cauchemar himself had certainly been called worse.

There was American Rubber, a short, wiry man in a star-spangled getup; the Sky Marshall, a helmeted hero with a jet-pack, ray-gun and penchant for aerial acrobatics… Blockade, a shield-carrying, olive-drab garbed brute of a man who looked like he could punch out a Studebaker. Lady Paramount was there too, dark-haired and slim, absolutely radiant, standing out like a golden coin in a handful of gravel. Last was the Unknown Soldier, a ghostly, eerie patriot who was at least thus far keeping to himself.

As Cauchemar approached the group, the knock-out blonde at the front spoke up, absently smoothing her tie down the front of her khaki blouse. “Thank you everyone, for coming. We’re now just waiting for one more invitee. Your patience is appreciated – the General hopes to start the briefing in the next ten minutes.”

[OOC: Okay team, six of you are there. Feel free to chatter amongst yourselves and make small or big talk. Once Major Meteor joins in, we’ll start rolling. Major, feel free to write your entrance – no need to wait until the final build is complete. BTW, I’ll generally keep the OOC chatter in the other thread, but it’s fine in the IC thread provided it’s at the bottom of the post and is called out like this is. By way of background, you’ve all received official letters from the government recently saying your help is desperately needed in the interests of national defense. That’s about all you know at this stage...]

[bigsteveuk]

Blockade (Status: Normal, Hits: 100)

Jack looked round and considered the room, Christ was the war effort going so badly?; he thought to himself, special powers or not these guys were half trained civilians and Jesus look at em. He guessed stealth or infiltration wasn’t on the cards as it looked more like a freakin circus than a military unit, though saying that the dame was pretty easy on the eye. The sooner they all had a good haircut and got in some fatigues the better.

[kevperrine]

AMERICAN RUBBER (Status: Normal, Hits: 100)
aka. Dr. Kenny Kirby


'Geez louise!... that's Lady Paramount... an the Sky Marshall... an... Holy Cow - Blockade?!?!! WOWZERS!'

Like a kid, Kenny thought to himself, quickly wiping the mustard off his cheek. Dr. Kirby had finished twelve hot dogs with three more still on the tin plate the nice man over at the mess-hall had given him... Strange as it was normally he'd still be hungry - over a dozen cony's but never full due to the stretching of his stomach. The only thing that countered American Rubber's flex-capacity appetite was something big enough to draw his attention away...

And this sure did it!
Taking Kenny back to his childhood, seeing all these heroes - just like back in the funny papers when he was a kid. Darn-tottin'! It was folks like this that got his mind to workin' to make his pliability-serum in the first place...

But then...
Dr. Kirby glanced about and down. ... Hardly any of these folks were in the bright colors he remembered reading in the Sunday comics...

Feeling a bit out-of-place, American Rubber's form naturally slouched a bit deeper than any natural man could, Dr. Kirby's shoulders molding behind some of the others in the room... He'd not been in the public like some of the others, he'd not been on any missions... And the reality of the danger this could be started to set in. He thought of Maggie...

His attention skipping again... Glancing up to see another darkly clad man walking in, completely missing the other ghostly form in the room.
....Maybe his costume colors were... a bit too much for real war? He thought, with melancholy...


Trying not to look concerned - while looking for contact, ANY eye contact from these... "mystery men".

[Heroglyph]

Lady Paramount (Status: Normal, Hits: 100)

Lady Paramount walked forward with a warm smile, extending a hand towards Cauchemar

"Bonjour, Cauchemar c'est un honneur pour vous rencontrer" (Hello, Nightmare it is an honor to meet you) she said in French.

[OOC: If we want to say you knew her dad (Billy Oklahombi) in WWI, them maybe Cauchemar can pick up on a family resemblance, or body language initially, since he doesn't know her secret ID at this point.]

[Saker]

Sky Marshall (Status: normal, Hits: 100)

Jesse stood near a wall and watched the new guy enter with the gas mask. That must be Couchemar. He looks scarier in person. He worked a mission with Greg two years ago, so I better be careful. He's supposed to be a detective. He thought to himself.

He watched Lady Paramount head over to greet Couchemar. She and Jesse had already exchanged pleasantries having worked a mission together a couple of months ago. However, the Sky Marshall helmet made his voice deeper and reverberate a bit, so it's not like chit chat was easy or suave. She wouldn't go for an egghead like me anyway. He sighed.

Jesse returned his gaze to the general. He hadn't met one that he liked yet. They were either ignorant, full of themselves, wanted miracles, or all of the above. He used his telescopic vision to examine his decorations in detail planning to investigate their significance later. The dame looked nice but military. Jesse had already examined her decorations earlier.

He had also already reviewed the two new guys and didn't want to stare. The red, white and blue clown looked like a real freak. The shield soldier looked like a hard case. Uncle Sam must be desperate if they need all of us. He wondered.

[BeardedDork]

Cauchemar, Normal, 80 Hits

"Bonjour, Cauchemar c'est un honneur pour vous rencontrer"

The detective's, attention was breifly drawn away from the Sky Marshall, to the attractive Native woman greeting him in French. He took her hand firmly and shook it politely.

He considered her bone structure while internally composing his reply. She was not Micmac, or Huron, Montagnais perhaps? No, her accent was Continental, not Quebecois, she did look familiar though, he thought.

His voice buzzed through his mask, "Bonjour Madame, parlez-vous Anglais, mon Français n'est pas aussi bon qu'il l'était. Ah, excusez-moi." (Hello Ma'am, do you speak English, my French is not as good as it used to be. Ah, excuse me.) He punctuated his final sentence as if he had just noticed something.

He parted with the lovely Lady Paramour, to greet his old friend the Sky Marshall and extended his own hand in greeting, "Good to see you again, have you lost weight? You look good he add, almost as an afterthought." he asked in greeting his buzzing voice sounded interrogative.

OOC I apologize for my poor French, it's been years since I used it.

[urbwar]

Major Meteor (Status: Normal Hits: 80)

As he blazed across Maryland's night sky, Major Meteor chided himself. "The General is going to be peeved that I'm late for this pow wow. At least I have a legit reason; those saboteurs would have done some serious damage at the Brooklyn Navy Yards if not for that tip the FBI got"

Changing direction so that he'd start to face the direction of Fort Wilson, the Major slowly picked up speed. He normally hated bond rallies, but being at that one in Times Square turned out to be a good thing. As an acting officer in the US Army Air Corps, he knew that punctuality was expected of him.

He had read the telegram before heading south. He recognized some of the names of these "Mystery Men" being assembled, as well as Blockade, another government operative. Something bigger than saboteurs in Brooklyn must be going on if the military is recruiting masks.

"As old as I am, I'm still new to all this "hero" stuff. I may be powerful, but I'm still a novice. Hope I don't * things up!"

Gritting his teeth, the Major hit his top flight speed, his meteor shield leaving a fiery trail in the night sky...

OOC: Just wanted to throw in what my character is doing before he actually shows up to the meeting

[Saker]

Sky Marshall (Status: normal, Hits: 100)

Great. Here he comes. Lady P barely slowed him down. Must be an odd bird. Jesse thought to himself watching Couchemar approach.

He firmly shook the proffered hand and replied, "it's been awhile. I guess the Marshall has taken its toll on me." The toll was Greg's life, which isn't a lie. He continued to himself.

"How have you been?" Jesse attempted to steer the conversation toward Couchemar or the mission. "Do you have any idea what this is all about?"

[BeardedDork]

Cauchemar, Normal, 80 Hits

"Do you have any idea what this is all about?"

Cauchemar paused before answering. "I don't know, I suspect." He looked Sky Marshall up and down before he continued, "There are rumors of a direct assault coming here at home. I'm sure, we'll find out soon enough."

The Detective selected a seat and removing a small notepad and pen from the breast pocket of his coat sat down.

[Harrigan]

Career military man Jack Starr knew both the officers in the room, along with a number of the GIs and their NCOs. He also recognized the woman, Mae Winters -- she was an analyst with Roosevelt's new Office of Strategic Services. A bit of a brainchild, she knew German, Japanese, Mandarin, French and a half-dozen other languages. She was also a knockout, and that never hurt. Creamy skin, great gams, one of those boom-boom bullet-bras that all the sweater girls were wearing -- she was tough to keep your eyes off of, especially with her new off-the-shoulder hairstyle. Jack hadn't seen her since his recovery -- he'd have to remember to ask her about Larry Tumbler, Patrick Wagner and the other OSS agents he'd met.

Across the room, Captain Stevens noticed Kenny Kirby's seriously slumping shoulders and got his attention. "Hey -- American Rubber, right? Captain Fred Stevens, US Army. We appreciate your coming, son."

[OOC: PM to follow, bigsteveuk]

[Heroglyph]

Lady Paramount(Status: Normal, Hits: 100)

"Bonjour Madame, parlez-vous Anglais, mon Français n'est pas aussi bon qu'il l'était. Ah, excusez-moi." (Hello Ma'am, do you speak English, my French is not as good as it used to be. Ah, excuse me.) He punctuated his final sentence as if he had just noticed something.

"No problem," Lady Paramount said in English. She scanned the room and noticed Blockade scowling at the assembled heroes.

"Why so glum, chum? " she asked. "My name is Lady Paramount by the way. Isn't this a gas? " she said, clearly excited to be included in the room with the other heroes.

[bigsteveuk]

Blockade (Status: Normal, Hits: 100)

“* she makes that uniform look good”, Jack thought as he gazed appreciatively at Mae, but given the cold shoulder he was getting he guessed he was still in her bad books. Suddenly his thoughts were broken.

“Chum, if you check the bars, son, that’s Captain” said Jack turning and realising his faux pas
“Sorry Miss, apologise for my rudeness, I was in a world of my own, I am Jack Starr and who would I have the pleasure of addressing” Jack said offering his hand.

[Heroglyph]

Lady Paramount (Status: Normal, Hits: 100)

"No apology necessary, Captain" said Lady Paramount, while shaking his hand. "I'm called Lady Paramount...and ladies don't give out their secret identities, until at least the third date," she says with a good-natured wink. "Any idea what this is all about? "

[Saker]

Sky Marshall (Status: normal, Hits: 100)

Cauchemar paused before answering. "I don't know, I suspect." He looked Sky Marshall up and down before he continued,

He suspects! He said as much. Jesse cringed to himself. What gave me away? I used small words like Greg. He couldn't possibly have detected any slight accent that I picked up living in Boston for ten years of school through this reverberating helmet. Maybe I didn't use a pet name for him, like pal or buddy? He tried to relax near the wall again but couldn't quiet his concern.

It must be the physique! Even after wearing this rocket pack for months, I'll never fill out the outfit like the football player that Greg was. I wonder what he's going to do? In nervous curiousity, the Marshall's telescopic vision started detailing every thread and fastener of the back of Couchemar's outfit.

[urbwar]

The 2 MP's looked up from the gatehouse as a flaming object came towards them from the sky. Both men panicked, running out of the gatehouse into the rain. The flaming object slowed as it got closer, until it was hovering over them. The MP's looked up, astonishment on their faces as they looked upon a glowing, white haired man in a blue uniform with red gloves and boots...

"Sorry to frighten you boys. I was running late for the meeting, and didn't want to hold things up too much. I should have probably slowed down a mile or so back. Sometimes I forget that I look like a real meteor when I'm flying that fast!"

The two MP's continued to stare up at the glowing man. One of them finally gulped, then snapped to attention, giving the glowing man a salute. "Welcome to Fort Wilson Major. The General is waiting for you. The others are all here"

The glowing man replied "Thanks Corporal. Keep up the good work!". before flying slowly upwards, and towards the building where the briefing was being held.

The two MP's walked back into the Gatehouse, oblivious to their being soaked. They just made a real life American hero!