Punching bad guys in the city is way better than bein' one in prison.
Not that I was really a bad guy. I just made a bad decision. Or two. Or four. I never felt like I did anything to violate my probation, but I guess when you romance the daughter of a billionaire, the daughter of a influential religious leader, and the daughter of one of Crey Industries chief scientists -- all at once -- one of them daddies is bound to have enough pull to get a judge to send you back to jail. Or maybe all of them did. Of course, if I hadn't been involved in that bank robbery when I was fifteen, I wouldn't have been in trouble to begin with.
But two years in Cell Block X -- a facility built just for li'l ol' me -- wasn't that hard to deal with. It gave me time to think and once a week Mr. Kirby would come and talk to me, kinda let me know that the hard times would pass. He wasn't no stranger to trouble, having made some mistakes of his own -- and him a lot older than me -- but he's come through it all right. I come through it all right too.
I've been keepin' a low profile since I got back, tryin' to get a feel for the new city.
Not that Paragon's not still Paragon. If anything, it's even more Paragon now than it was before. But it's just... different.
Maybe it's 'cause I was away when whatever happened happened, but I noticed it right away. Some of the people I knew before hadn't aged a day since I last saw them, even though it had been a couple of years. Others had gotten older just like me. And these people exist side-by-side and don't bat an eye about it. Oh, they talk their theories about what happened and what didn't happen, but there ain't nobody knows anything for sure. I guess that's the one thing about Paragon that ain't changed -- it's still the weirdest fricken place on Earth.
But anyway, I'm back and I'm ready to make a name for myself. I used to just go by Wyatt Wyborn, but hell, when you google that, it brings up my mug shots. The name I'm gonna make for myself is... (da-da-da-daaaa!) Hurtproof.
Pretty awesome, huh?
"Wyatt, don't tell me, Wyatt Wilson no that's not it, Wyatt Greenman no definitely not, Wyatt Wyborn! Yes, that's it." Paragon Avenger said.
"Hello, P.A., so you remember me." Hurtproof said.
"Yes and I'm here to take you back to the Zig." PA replied.
"No, you don't understand, they released me." Hurtproof explained.
"And what if I don't believe you?" PA asked not asking.
Hurtproof showed The Paragon Avenger his duly signed and notarized release papers.
"Forgeries, obvisously, you spelled 'Paragon' wrong."
"They are not forgeries, the typist made a mistake, it could happen to anybody." Hurtproof pleaded.
The Paragon Avenger fired his blind power.
"If you have gone straight, you won't mind waiting here while I check out your story."
"You buzzard! I'm blind!" Hurtproof screamed.
"It's only temporary."
Just them a call came over the Paragon Information Network, (PIN), that listed all the recently released from the Zig.
"According to PIN you've been released. Sorry about blinding you."
"Not as sorry as you're going to be, once I regain my sight." Hurtproof threatened.
"Look, no pun inten..., I mean you can hold a grudge or you can join "The Paragon League of Heroes" the super group for which I'm the executive director." Paragon Avenger informed.
"Why should I join you?" Hurtproof was still fluming and still blind.
"Well, what do you want to do with your powers?"
"Right now, kill you."
"Let's say after that, you want to go back to the Zig?"
"Not really, no."
"We fight crime..." PA started.
"And blind innocent heroes." Hurtproof interrupted.
"The occasional accident happens."
"You call this an accident, I'm frigging blind!"
"It will pass, but who will you be, the bank robber I threw in the Zig or a super hero like me?" PA asked.
"Well, I haven't decide...hey I can see!" Hurtproof said as his vision slowly recovered.
"Don't look at the Sun, your eyes aren't ready."
"Good tip, you know PA, you're all right."
"So will you join my super group?" PA asked.
"Can you use a tank of a hero with a less than glorious past."
"No. Just kidding, we sure can." PA joked.
The Paragon Avenger took Hurtproof on a tour of the super group base.
(no, Hurtproof didn't laugh)
"Here I am in this stupid warehouse. Doing --- well --- doing what I have been doing for some time. That's right; I'm knocking heads together and beating-down anybody who tries to stop me. Man, it feels good to be back at it. In the Zig, they basically don't let you beat on anybody. I suppose it's for the reputation of the place as a reformatory institute, but I really think it's because the guards want to have all the fun themselves. There is however a slight, no make that major wrinkle in this whole thing. I'm not working alone." Hurtproof thought to himself.
"Ok, you go left and get the attention of that group over there. I'll send in my Phantom Army and buff you." The Paragon Avenger said.
"OK, Haffe." Hurtproof replied tossing in a little Spanish for no reason.
"I hate it when he talks French." PA said.
"You see what I mean. It is going to be a long season." Hurtproof thought to himself.
Hurtproof went into the room just as PA had instructed. The duo worked well together, but each believed that he could probably do a better job alone. For his part, the Paragon Avenger felt that Hurtproof was there to bolster his Phantom Army. Hurtproof was glad to be out of the Zig, but the current arrangement almost felt like prison. He might put it this way, "Teaming with PA feels like driving your dad's pick-up truck with him sitting next to you. It's all do this and do that and don't do that while he's looking over your shoulder. I want to go solo, but hell; I would probably be teamed with some other clown anyway."
"You wanted to see me?" He asked. Hurtproof didn't even know that Ms. Liberty had an office in Steel Canyon or anywhere for that matter. He always just assumed that she hung out in Atlas Park, all-day-long.
"Yes, come in Wyatt, I mean Hurtproof, come in. Close the door." Ms. Liberty was guinely pleased to see him.
He closed the door behind him and sat in the chair in-front of Ms. Liberty's desk. Ms. Liberty sat down behind her desk. She opened a drawer and pulled out a thick file-folder and plopped it on her desk.
"So what is all this about." Hurtproof asked.
"You."
"Me?"
"Yes, you. This is your file. As you can see it is very extensive."
"Thank you, the ladies like it too." Wyatt said trying to be amusing.
"Do you know who I am? I can send you back to the Zig, or make it so you never even existed."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Look, I'm trying to help you."
"I don't need any help."
"Yes you do. Paragon Avenger is an excellent start for you, but before we can fully trust you."
"What do you people want? I robbed a bank. I went to prison. I want to start over."
"Yes, but are you fully committed to justice? Are you a rogue or a vigilante?" Ms. Liberty asked.
"Neither! I am a hero!!" Hurtproof said starting to get upset.
"You, a hero, don't make me laugh."
"Name it, I'll do it. Assign it, I'll complete it. Give me a name, I'll arrest him." Hurtproof said very seriously.
"Ok, ok, big shot. We have evidence that Some Nut With A Gun shot up the Vanguard base on Peregrine Island."
"Really, you want me to find some vandal."
"No! Some Nut With A Gun is the name you wanted. Some Nut With A Gun is a superhero."
"You want me to arrest a fellow superhero?"
"Well, if it is too much for you, I could assign it to Flower Night."
"The blaster with breadstick powers?"
"No, that's Flour Knight, or is that Flour Night. Anyway, Flower Night is a blaster, so called, with archery skills."
"Wait, do you mean The Flower Knight, from Outbreak and Ouroboros?"
"No, she is Flower Night, without the 'K', anyway, just bring in Some Nut With A Gun."
"Will this prove that I'm a loyal Hero?"
"It will be a good start."
"Ok, I will arrest Some Nut With A Gun." Hurtproof promised.
"Whatever happened to more simple names like Auquaman, now that is a name."
They both laughed.
He sipped his beer slowly. Yeah, he was no lightweight drinker. he used to mix Bourbon, Rum, Vodka and Gin together. He called it 'The Nasty'. The name along made his old acquaintances shy away. The pale brown color looked unappealing as well. Although it really didn't smell too bad, it was named for its taste. Tonight was different. He didn't want to see how much he could drink before he had to throw up, a little game he used to play with his friends. He wasn't trying to screw-up courage to rip-off a gas station or all night Quickie Mart(c). He was simply killing time...waiting.
A good-looking slender man approached him. "Wyatt?" He asked.
Hurtproof looked up from his beer. "Are you wearing glitter?" He countered.
"I have a sparkly personality and a face to match, scooch over." The stranger replied.
"Look, you're cute and all, but I don't swing that way."
"Oh get over yourself. Now slide over my dogs are barking."
Hurtproof moved over a little to let the glitter guy sit down.
"Thank you, now I understand that you are looking for a guy."
"I told you, I don't swing that way, do a have to rearrange your face?" Hurtproof insisted feeling insulted.
"Oh please, you are definitely not my type."
"Why, what's wrong with me, not that I care." Hurtproof said not knowing why. He had never been rejected by a gay guy before. He had never been accepted by a gay guy before either.
"Where do I begin..."
"Ok, ok, never mind, why are you here?" Hurtproof interrupted
"For a modest fee, my agency can help locate just about anybody in the city, on the isles or even in Praetoria."
"How much we talking, and how do I know I'm getting what I paying for?"
"Excellent questions, first we have several bundle packages and saver plans to fit any budget."
"Get lost."
"Typical, alrighty how's 5000i grab you?"
"Wow!" Hurtproof replied in shock.
"And another 5000i after the job is done."
"I just want to find him, not put a contract out on him."
"Why didn't you say so? Oh never mind, 300i for good info about his last known where-a bouts."
"Sounds good."
"And 1000i for his current where-a-bouts."
"You don't miss a trick."
"And another 1000i and we forget to tell him that you're coming."
"You ought to be locked-up." Hurtproof admonished.
"Usually I do the locking-up and then I ..."
"Enough! Promise me you will NEVER give me any details concerning your---hobbies."
"Oh you are a prude. Give me two grand and Some Nut With A Gun will be your---playmate."
"How did you know..." Hurtproof started.
"It is my business to know, now 2000 portraits of Statesman, please."
Hurtproof reached into his wallet. He carefully counted out the 2 G's. He tossed the money on the table, and with one very quick and graceful movement, the sparkly stranger gathered the money and slipped it into his pocket.
"Aren't you going to count it?" Hurtproof said sarcastically.
"Not here." The stranger got up. "We will be in touch." The strange slide around the corner.
"Oh hell no!" Hurtproof exclaimed. He got up and went after the stranger, but as he rounded the corner he could not see sparkles anywhere. "Great, just great; I just blew 2000i"
Nobody dared to laugh.
After his disappointing encounter with Expletive Man, Hurtproof wandered into Talos Island. He had never been to Talos Island before. It seemed so tropical, like the old TV show Miami Vice he used to watch on USTV. USTV is an over-the-air classics television network. They would have blocks of programs back-to-back that had a connecting link. For example, Miami Vice and Nash Bridges block, shown around 6am, they called it The Dawn Don Johnson. Many a morning he was lulled to sleep by the Dawn Don Johnson. He had decided to go to Talos Island on a hunch. He had heard that Mr. Sparkles hangs out on Spanky's Boardwalk.
Paragon City is such a nice or rather interesting place. In Atlas Park, for an example, there are the local villain groups and attractions. The mood or flare of that zone is completely different from Steel Canyon. And Steel Canyon, with it's tall buildings, is completely different from Kings Row. And Kings is no way even close to Independence Port, except that they share a war wall and gate. And even though Independence Port has miles of shoreline, it is nothing like Talos Island. And Skyway City is just out there, but Croatoa beats it in strange.
Hurtproof was in Talos Island to go sight-seeing. He had paid Sparkle good money and he wanted good results. The desserted wooden planks echoed his footsteps mocking him. It almost sounded like they were saysing, "Nobody here, now". He ignored the wooden planks and saw a glimmer. It was a sparkle or piece of glitter laying on the walkway in front of him. He bent down to get a closer look and wham! He was stuck from behind with a very solid object.
He woke up in a soft bed.
"Where am I?" Hurtproof asked.
"Now there, there you got a nasty knock on the noggin." The female voice said with a motherly tone.
"Ow, how did I get here?" Hurtproof asked through the pain.
"I found you laying on the boardwalk. So my dad helped me bring you here, Calvin. I undressed you and put you to bed." The teenager said.
"Where are my pants?" Hurtproof asked in surprise.
"They're over there on my hope chest, I've never seen purple underwear before, Calvin."
"Why do you keep calling me Calvin?" Hurtproof asked.
"Well that's your name, silly, it says so on your underwear, Calvin Klein."
"You never heard of designer labels, what kind of weirdo are you." Hurtproof stood up tossing off the covers and grabbing his pants.
"Oh my." The teen exclaimed turning her head away, but then peeking back.
Hurtproof put on his pants, found his shoes and put them on too. Crossing the room to the door, he turned back towards her and said, "Where's the bathroom?"
"Down the hall to your left." She replied and started sobbing.
Hurtproof left.
"Hey, you look lost? Can I help you?" Necrophillia asked.
"Maybe I can help you." Hurtproof stared at this stranger. She had that "Come to your doom, boys" look that he liked so much.
"Ok, first things first. Are you now or have you ever been a super-powered being?" Necrophillia asked.
"Lady, whatever you say."
"Of course, but I need to know if you are a super." Necrophillia redirected. She was used to guys falling all over themselves trying to impress her. So many of them end up in her zombie army.
"Oh, yes, I am a super." Hurtproof replied regaining his senses.
"Great, so here is a copy of a secret document detailing what happened to the superheroes who used to run around the city" Necrophillia stated handing him a manila envelope. Hurtproof took the envelop and put it in his coat still staring at her.
"Can I buy you coffee, a drink, a new car?" Hurtproof asked back under her spell.
"Oh, sorry, I still have that silly power on, there." Necrophillia said turning off her placate power.
"Aaaaeeeeeh, don't turn that back on, ever. Man!"
"Sorry, well I must be going."
"Wait a minute, I need you help." Hurtproof admitted.
"What is it?"
"I'm looking for Some Nut With A Gun."
"Striga Isle, the place is crawling with Family Gunners." Necrophillia replied in her I'm-being-helpful-voice.
"No you don't understand. I was walking down the boardwalk, and somebody whacked me up-side the head. Now, am looking for that guy and this other hero named Some Nut With A Gun."
"What do you want with Some Nut With A Gun?" Necrophillia asked wondering why this guy was looking for one of her friends.
"Ms. Liberty told me to bring him in to erase my ... to bring him in." Hurtproof answered nearing blurting out about his former lifestyle.
"I see, I used to be a Praetorian myself and I know ..."
"I was no lousy Praetorian!" Hurtproof exclaimed.
"Look, I'm liking you less and less."
"I used to be a villain, OK, I'm just trying to get in good at Hero Corps."
"I can help you there; they love me." Necrophillia bragged.
"I'll bet."
They both laughed.