ORIGINS Sometime in the not too distant past of the not so distant future, a being of great importance came to be. But first he was a man with one simple wish... Witch Wyzwurd had an intense interest in neuroscience and parapsychological powers of the mind, but wasn't one to believe that wishes ever came true. Not until the great Wishmaster Wreybies heard his lonely call... Although Wreybies was a superior Wishmaster, he was a bit of a sadist; albeit, one with a heart of gold. He knew Witch would grow tired of the PET scanner after awhile, so he couldn't resist throwing in a few bonuses into the grant for Witch's wish. Not only did Wreybies make Witch's wish come true, but he did something he never had done before: he wished to be a part of a grant he had given... Chimmybear was a Wish Princess. Highest in her order. One could hear her alluring chants making dreams come true from miles away. Being a well-practiced Wish Princess, Chimmybear had the knowledge to grant a Wishmaster's wish. Awesome, in the least! Wreybies was never the same again, as stated above, but we'll get more into that later. But Wreybies had a few more grants left in him, and he used one to make Chimmybear's wish true... Very early on in Witch's new reality, he wanted W.Z. Boson eliminated. A bit of a high achiever he is (and a little impatient)... The following grant was Wishmaster Wreybies last one to come true...
DEFINITIONS There is a distinct language in Gluon Man's reality. You will come across these words from time to time. And don't be shy to invent some of your own in the "What's That Word?" thread. Here are some that have already been invented...
THOSE WHO CAN'T GRANT As the plot grows, there will be some forum members who will no longer be able to grant wishes within the Gluon Man storyline. Why? Because they opted to wish to be a being in Gluon Man's reality, and had their wish granted. A list of these forum members follows... Witch Wyzwurd Wreybies (once a Wishmaster) Chimmybear (once a Wish Princess)
The goal is to slowly add to the storyline of Gluon Man! Defender of the Strong Force! Please keep all posts related to this topic. Add in your own style. Be creative. Be inventive! But above all, don't be like Chimmybear and interrupt my introduction! Ok. Introduction complete. Feel free to post...
Many thanks to Witch for taking up the torch! Let us begin... Gluon Man took in the amazing sight of this new universe. Pink marzipan clouds of gas glowing with the radiation emitted by stars of every color. Gumdrop stars like candy spilled across the sky. Realizing that he would have to find some way back to his own universe, Gluon Man pondered his fate. Where to go? How to get back? The time / space vortex was an accident, a fluke of timing and just the right circumstances. How could it be repeated and how to assure that the next vortex would take him home? Gluon Man felt panic grip him somewhere below his chest and above his stomach. W.Z. Boson! Where had he and his henchmen gone? Gluon Man scanned the infinite reach of space surrounding him in search of his archenemies, finding only emptiness lit by a polychromatic blaze of suns. They must have appeared in some other part of this universe. Perhaps even in a different universe than this one. Holding his fists down at his sides, Gluon Man blasted his strong force beams and was soon rocketing across the immense emptiness. He knew that he would have to find help, and that meant finding what passed for civilization in this universe. Meanwhile… back in our own universe…. Chloe Blane stepped out of her brand new seven series BMW and adjusted her elegant charcoal grey business suit. She had an interview today with the CEO of Barxton Enterprises which she had been working on for almost a year. Bradley Barxton was infamously reclusive and few outside of his inner circle ever made it past the thirtieth floor of the Barxton building where he had his offices. Chloe took a deep breath as she strode across the parking lot to the massive glass doors of the Barxton. Inside, the lobby was palatial in its scale and grandeur. “Ok, Chloe, this is your interview. You’ve earned this. He’s just a multi-billionaire. He counts his money stacks like anyone else.” Chloe whispered to herself. “Can I help you?” asked the stunningly beautiful black women at the reception desk. “Yes, thank you. I have a ten o’clock with Bradley Barxton.” Chloe flashed her famous smile. The receptionist did not blink, but there was an unmistakable change in the tone of her voice. “Ms. Blane. Yes. Mr. Barxton is expecting you.” She handed Chloe a key. “You’ll need this to operate the elevator. It’s the last one as you head down the hall.” She indicated to Chloe the correct direction. “Just turn it once to the left.” She looked down again at her computer screen and seemed to remove Chloe from her reality. Chloe took the key and walked the short distance to the elevators. The last one in line had a smaller door which opened immediately upon turning the key. One more deep breath and Chloe stepped inside to meet the most important interview of her career. Her last thought as the elevator doors closed was, The Old Boys at the Daily Photon can kiss my Prada-clad ass.
Ding! The elevator door's chime rang as Chloe reached the end of what seemed to be an eternally long ascension. "Everything is perfect," she quietly assured herself. "My house is perfect. My car is perfect. My suit is perfect." "Oops, I must've dripped some grapefruit juice on it," she thought. "Hmmm... Oh, yah. I have a tissue in my pocket." As the door split at its center to reveal the final length she would step before reaching Mr. Barxton's office, she moistened the tissue with spit and removed the stain. "Now, everything is perfect." Now, one would expect a long hall adorned with exotic plants or a large room holding antiques and fancy artwork on stone pillars to welcome her first steps towards such a highly respected and wealthy man's office, but what Chloe saw was so astonishing she choked on a swallowed gasp, surprised by a beautiful bizarreness. Beyond the doors was a transparent corridor exposing the darkness of space and the Earth far below. "I-I-I'm in outer s-space," her voice trembled in disbelief. Slicing the moment's wonder, a calm man's voice spoke from an intercom fixed into the ceiling of the elevator. "Ms. Blane. Welcome. I'm sorry that I couldn't tell you about the elevator, but, as you know, I must be very selective in who I let contact me. You are safe." "I don't feel safe," Chloe replied as she tried to conceal the magnitude of her apprehension. "Don't worry. I've stepped off of the elevator many times and have yet to harm myself,... obviously. You must leave the elevator now or its doors will automatically close, and it will carry you back down to the main floor. You have no more than five seconds." Not much time for someone to prepare for their first spacewalk. "It's taken me all year to get this interview, and I'm not going to let fear stop me now," she thought as the suddenness of Mr. Braxton's persuasion compelled her to exit. As the doors started to close, she quickly stepped onto the clear floor. Chloe Blane looked back and watched the elevator, that straddled thousands of miles of carbon nanotubes, descend to the Earth. "This interview better be worth it Bradley Barxton," she murmured while floating above the clouds.
The air inside of the elevator was heavy with perfume. Chloe wondered who had previously ridden inside it's confined space before her. Catching sight of her appearance in the reflection of the doors, she adjusted her jacket. It only took a second for her to notice the small red light behind her. Immediately she turned to investigate..."ding"...the doors opened. She turned around just in time to see a small figured man tripping over his feet and fall forward into the elevator. "Oh, pardon me...floor 22 please." He said, gaining his composure while clutching tightly to an orange umbrella. His rumpled shirt was barely tucked inside black jeans, and one shoe lace was untied, no doubt the cause of the stumble. Chloe slowly reached over and acted upon the strangers request. "Great, now I'm a doorman for Bradley Barxton." She thought to herself. "Hi, I am Patsmolang, or Pat as my family and friends call me." The stranger said extending a hand. His hands were soft and quite small. Upon exchanging hand shakes, Chole realised she had seen this guy somewhere before, but she couldn't recall the moment or the place. Her mind focused back on the tiny light behind her.
Back in the Marzipan Universe........ Gluon Man was pressing his strong force beams to their full power. His speed had increased enough that even within the seeming vacuum of space he could feel a slight breeze against his skin. His gravometrosight had picked up what seemed to be the gravity well of a nearby planetary system and he was making his way there. There was one planet in the system that was giving off a very strange wave disruption within the gravity well and Gluon Man hoped that this planet might be his ticket back. Rocketing across the emptiness Gluon Man could not help to entertain, just for a moment, the idea that he might never see his home again. He knew Charm could handle herself. She was a crime fighting powerhouse, but Sdreero Boy… so young and innocent to have been thrown head first into this life. He had already fallen in with a bad crowd once before. And Chloe. Beautiful, nosey, Chloe Blane. Would he ever see her again? As Gluon Man approached the planetary system, it seemed to have few planets with one very large planet in close orbit of the sun. Not a good sign. Large planets in close orbit meant little chance of smaller, rocky planets to support life. Gluon Man continued his rocketing streak over the system and noticed something strange about the giant in close orbit. It did not look like a gas giant. It looked solid. No planet of that size had any business being solid. Gluon man changed his course for a closer look. The solar wind coming from the system’s sun swept across him and interfered with his gravimetrosight. The planet seemed to have a metallic look, dark grey with a dull shine. Gluon Man flew closer and closer until it became apparent that this was no regular planet. It was a Dyson Sphere!
The hallway on the 22nd floor led to the private office of Patsmolong Kinaski. The interior was colorful and elaborately decorated with small toys and large posters of various clowns and circus themes by Pat himself. Walking over to his desk he picked up a small recorder..."Patsmolong Kinaski, day 7...it's 9:55 in the am, the plan is coming together as I met the beautiful Chloe Blane. I don't think she had a clue about me. Next step...operation interception." Pat switched off the small device and set it back on the desk. *ring*...*ring*...Practically jumping out of his skin, Pat looked down at the phone, "Hello, Patsmolong here....yes sir, right on it...no, I don't think I was noticed by anyone....Yes, sir...everything is right on time." Pat wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. Today would interesting to say the least.
At the reception desk of the Barxton building, Monique Dubois watched Chloe Blane make her way to the elevators. She knew Chloe’s type all too well; driven overachiever with a huge chip on her shoulder. She gave in to a brief moment of respect for the woman. You’re pretty, honey, but not as pretty as me. Monique thought to herself. Monique returned her attention to the monitor in front of her. She flicked through the different camera displays until she came to the camera within the private elevator. She thought Chloe looked good in her Prada suit, but felt she herself would have done it more justice. Just then, the elevator reached the twenty second floor and Potsmolong Kinaski got off leaving Chloe alone for the rest of the ride. Monique Dubois shivered. She did not care for Potsmolong Kinaski, and secretly referred to him as Mr. Ki-nasty. With an inhuman feline grace, Monique turned off the display. She reached within her purse to find her cell phone and dialed the number to W.Z. Boson, her boss and sometime lover. The phone continued to ring and then went to voice mail. “Honey, this is Monique. The Blane woman is on her way up. I’ll be tailing her after her interview like you asked. Can’t wait to see you. Dinner, my place. Bring wine. You know the kind I like.” Monique closed her phone and grinned to herself as she thought of the evening she had planned for W.Z. It was strange that he had not answered. His phone was always with him and he always took her calls. Monique knew when to call and when to let W.Z. have time to himself. She adjusted her blouse to its best advantage and waited for Chloe Blane to finish her interview.
The office of Patsmolong was feeling cramped, when Pat decided to get out and a take stroll down to the coffee shop. In spite of being ordered to stay put, Pat was confident nothing would happen in the five minutes it would take for him to get a cup of coffee. "How can I function if I'm feeling sluggish." Pat thought. Standing at the counter of the Java Carousel, Pat could feel eyes staring at his back. He never fully understood how he knew certain things, but he knew them all the same. Something was different this time...something was off. "I'll take a Caramel Latte...large please...yeah, and could you add a shot of espresso for me doll?" He said, trying to shake the feeling he was being watched. Patsmolong took his cup and headed for the elevator, quickly he gave a casual glance across the room. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Suites and and clients drinking coffee and reading the news and one guy, wearing dark sunglass, talking into a micro phone. "What the hell?" Pat thought to himself...taking in as much of the strange man in dark glasses as he could, without seeming obvious. The Black Fedora Hat with a single red feather seemed odd even for this town. He knew this guy didn't belong here. "I have gotta get back to the office and report this guy..but how." Suddenly Pat knew he had bumbled into another mess. Casually he walked out of the shop , down the hall, and into the elevator. The doors were just about shut when a hand reached in and opened them. Pat immediately felt the shadow of dread wash over him...it was the Black Fedora.
As Bradley Barxton sat at his desk waiting for Chloe Blane to cross the heavens, he noted her arrival in his calendar. Chloe Blane arrives: 10:03 a.m. Chloe tapped the transparent floor with the heels of her shoes composing a disjointed rhythm as she timorously moved through the corridor. She had the choice of not looking down, but would there be comfort if she only looked straight ahead? Or up for that matter? Lucky for her, she could see Barxton's office. A massive sphere floating in space, seemingly attached only to the corridor. It was only forty-two steps away. But fifteen more steps would seem a long distance away from Chloe's viewpoint. What's it look like inside? She wondered. Mr. Braxton's door was shiny and metallic. Two large cursive letters made of solid gold were set upon the door's surface: BB. "Bradley Barxton," Chloe surmised as she chuckled at the simplicity. As she ran the three center fingers of her left hand gently over the letters, the door slowly vanished. "Ah, I see you figured out my secret," Mr. Barxton quipped while smiling. Not what Chloe had imagined. Her best guess was that Bradley would be an older gentleman with a bit more serious demeanor. In fact, as the door vanished she feared she had lost her chance at an interview. "I'm really sorry about that," she said while mesmerized by BB's attractiveness. "Security will be up in a second to remove you from my office." Barxton caught onto Chloe's trepidation, so he decided to play with it. Chloe just froze. As if the horrifying walk to his office wasn't enough. "I'm just kidding! Relax. Most newcomers do the same thing. I'm Bradley Barxton, but my close friends call me BB," Bradley said as he stood up to greet Ms. Blane. "But you're not a close friend so you can call me B for now." Not knowing whether to laugh or think he was an egotistical asshole, Chloe buried the confused contemplation, and replied: "Chloe Blane. Nice to meet you."
As Gluon Man cruised low over the surface of the Dyson sphere, searching for an entry point, it suddenly occurred to him that this sphere made no sense. The purpose of a Dyson sphere was to enclose a star and harness its energy, and yet the star of this system lay exposed in the distance. It had always been theorized that even a civilization capable of undertaking such a task would incur such a huge cost that the building of a Dyson sphere would only be done as a last ditch effort to remain in a star system where the star was going dim. Even if this was a binary system, and this sphere enclosed the companion star, the effort to enclose a star needlessly was difficult to understand. There must be something other than a star in this thing. Thought Gluon Man. And then he saw it. A bright flash in the distance. Something had reflected the light of the nearby sun in a pinpoint blaze. Gluon Man rose from the surface of the Dyson sphere and made his way toward the point of light. He flew a zigzag pattern, trying to get the reflection to line up with his course once again. There it was. And again. He tightened his zigzag flight path until the point of light remained stable. Concerned that he might be detected, Gluon Man discontinued his strong force beams and allowed his massive momentum to hurtle him towards his target. A ship. An alien ship in an alien universe headed toward an impossibly immense structure. Gluon Man had had better days. As Gluon Man and the alien ship approached each other, it became obvious that this ship was in scale with the rest of this planetary system. It was huge. An elongated teardrop the size of a small moon with a perfectly reflective surface. Gluon Man flew on and planned how to use this ship to enter the sphere.
"The pleasure is all yours," Mr. Barxton replied, wryly smiling. He must be joking, Chloe requestioned. "Please sit." As Chloe sat down, she peeked at the calendar on B's desk. Something odd was written on it which prompted Chloe to take another glance. The word 'weekend' had its last three letters crossed out and the second letter 'e' was changed to be the letter 'a.' Why 'weak' instead of 'weekend'? She pondered. But this strange wordplay was not interesting or important enough for her to warrant further scrutiny. There were preplanned questions for Barxton she'd ruminated for some time, and she wasn't allowing for distractions. "Mr. Barxton. B. Do you mind if I take notes and record our conversation?" "No Chloe. I'll be recording also." "Mr. Barxton..." "Just call me B," Barxton insisted. Chloe removed an IC voice recorder from her bag and started recording. She always found it helpful to write comments and notes too, in case the recorder failed or she needed to review an answer. "...Ok. B. Be aware that any comments you make from now until our conversation is complete might be used, and of course properly quoted, by the Daily Photon." She paused a moment to allow B to affirm or dissent. B was silent. From experience, Chloe knew that silence meant the interviewee was leery of being asked questions they didn't want to answer. Chloe had to convince Bradley to trust her, so she started with a question that was complimentary: "B. You're the wealthiest man alive. What attributes guide your success?" "Honesty..." Chloe knew that from then on that Barxton had to be honest with her or else he'd take the chance of tainting his superlativeness. "... is my foremost recommendation for becoming successful... in any enterprise. When the bonds of faith are strong between a seller and buyer, the seller owns the buyer in a way." "How do you mean?" "Take for instance my business. I sell planets to clients. I guarantee that my clients possess exclusive rights to any planet they purchase. If I make that claim, but they discover that another company has found a loophole which allows them to sell the same planet, then my integrity would be destroyed, and I'd lose that client. So by providing my client with one hundred percent accurate information, why would they choose to purchase planets elsewhere?" "A fairer price?" Chloe retorted. "And that Ms. Blane is my second rule: fair-pricing. Coupled with an honest guarantee, I maintain solidarity with my consumers." As B proceeded to explain how he maintains a close relationship with his clients, Chloe eyed his calendar again. She was curious if he altered the spelling of 'weekday'. Furtively, she searched the calendar for any instance of the word. 'Weekday' had been changed. As with 'weekend,' the second letter 'e' had been penned over with an 'a', but unlike 'weekend' the last three letters of the word were left unmarked: 'weakday'. Why did he do this? She was perplexed, yet not intrigued enough to ask. As Bradley Barxton concluded his response, he noticed that Chloe was no longer looking at him, but, instead, at his desk, although he didn't know why. "Ms. Blane?" Chloe had taken longer than she thought at scoping his calendar. "Sorry. That's why I always record my interviews." Instead of questioning B about the emendations on his calendar, something drove her to lie. "Um, I suffer from cataplexy, so at times I might fade out (how she hated using the word 'fade') briefly. Let me review." Chloe skipped back the recording on her voice recorder several seconds and listened. Chloe wrote a few words in her notebook then continued to query. Although B became suspicious of her, it was only marginal, so he wasn't bothered enough to end the interview.
(Got your message, Wyzer... Wizer... Damn, how do you spell that?... WHIZBURNER! Yes, Whizburner) So, instead, B...
