The Adventures of Justice Girl
“Unhand her, you villainous beast!” I shouted. It was early Saturday morning, and I had hoped to sleep in and perhaps catch up on some fan mail before having to deal with my Saturday evening shift on super-patrol. But on the one Saturday when I want to relax a little, what happens? Johnny Nightmare decides to rob a bank. And not just any bank - my arch-nemesis was targeting the biggest bank in Chicago. The superheroes that had the morning shift (Ice-19 and The Fifth Ace- fresh out of The Academy, they were as green as could be) were off dealing with several building fires and another one of Doctor Diabolical’s giant robots on the north side of the city, and the cops had their hands full with Johnny’s minions, the Bane Brigade. Naturally, dealing with Nightmare himself fell to me, so I had to get up, slip into my ever-tightening latex uniform and go to work early.
Who knew the life of a superheroine could be so much work?
“I’ll let her go,” Johnny sneered in his trademark slithering voice, “when you give me the codes to the vault! Then you can have your precious little hostage back…” He tightened his grip on her neck and lifted her higher as she scrabbled at his arm, trying desperately to gain purchase on his black leather sleeve.
“Alright, Nightmare, give it up!” shouted the police from outside, “We’ve taken out your minions and we’re coming inside!”
“Damn!” Johnny cursed, frantically looking for an escape route, “This isn’t over yet, Justice Girl!”
“Yes it is Johnny. Yes it is.” I replied coolly, taking a step towards him. I reached for my utility belt - if I could just pull out a sleeping gas canister without him noticing, I could defuse the situation before the cops came in and muddled everything up like they always did.
“No… No!” Johnny shouted, frantically stuffing cash into bags with one hand while holding his hostage with the other. “I will NOT be defeated by some two-bit superhero!” He tightened his grip again, and the girl began to turn blue.
“Stop!” I shouted, completely violating everything I had ever learned at the Academy, “You’re hurting her!” Before I knew what I was doing, I was running at him. Suddenly nothing else mattered - Johnny Nightmare could rob a hundred banks for all I cared, as long as he didn’t lay another hand on that sweet, innocent young girl.
The sweet, innocent young girl who I found suddenly sprawled on top of me, her soft, sweet breasts pressing into mine, her face regaining its natural, beautiful color, her blue eyes like pools of crystal water looking down at me…
Johnny Nightmare, laughing manically as he escaped onto the roof with a sizeable portion of the bank’s coffers. The police, yelling loudly, checking everything despite the fact that the action was over. Countless hundred-dollar bills fluttering around me from all the commotion.
In short, a completely botched mission.
I shook myself, trying to regain my bearings. Whatever had triggered it, my momentary lapse had cost me - Nightmare had thrown his hostage onto me, knocking me flat on my back so that he could escape. I could still hear him cackling maliciously as his private helicopter whisked him away from the roof.
Ah well, at least this beautiful young girl was safe. She couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, and she had already been held hostage by a supervillain. “Are you alright?” I asked, examining her neck. It had a large, red handprint on it, but her breathing seemed okay. That was a relief - she probably had a beautiful voice, and I would have just died inside if Nightmare had ruined it.
I shook myself again. What the hell was I doing? Rule 47 of the superhero handbook: Be kind and polite to bystanders and hostages, but don’t get too attached. This can cause distraction from the mission at hand, which in turn could cost you your life, or worse, everyone’s lives.
I set her down quickly (but softly), and took a few steps back. “Sorry, Miss, I really must be going,” I mumbled, blushing despite myself, “Ask the police to check your injuries - I’ve got to chase after Johnny Nightmare.”
As I turned to fly away, I heard her weakened voice cry out in gratitude, “Tha… thank you, Justice Girl.” Her voice sounded like a chorus of angels, singly softly and sweetly, and only for me. For a few moments I wished I didn’t have a job to do - I wished I could stay a while, learn this girl’s name, get to know her over coffee, stroke her silken hair, strip her out of her clothes, kiss her passionately…
I was startled out of my perturbing fantasies as I hit my head on the marble ceiling on my way out. Nothing like a minor concussion to top off my morning…
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I stopped Johnny Nightmare, of course, but only after a heart-pounding helicopter chase over the skies of Chicago. He nearly escaped again, though, as my mind was elsewhere during the entire fight (not literally, of course - that hasn’t happened to me since I my last battle with Alistair the Bizarre). Every few minutes, another image of that girl would pop into my head, distracting me from the work at hand.
I finally returned to the Justice Cavern at noon, sore and confused from the morning’s events. My distractions had nearly let one of my many, many nemeses get away. I’d already caught enough flak from the Consortium when Captain Contemptible escaped after a pitched battle with Vice Versa, Jack Frost and myself. We finally found him in a submarine in Lake Michigan, which Jack Frost promptly froze. Of course, then we had to deal with the repercussions of having just frozen a large portion of one of the Great Lakes… It still gives me a headache just thinking about it.
I took a few super-aspirin and slumped down into my super-couch. Johnny Nightmare was safely behind bars now, and I had a few hours to myself before my actual shift. I turned on a 24-news station - vain as it was, I wanted to see the media’s coverage of my latest escapades.
“After an aerial chase, Chicago’s favorite hero finally caught super-villain Johnny Nightmare, sending him back to maximum security prison. Authorities are still baffled as to how he escaped in the first place. We go now to Andy Cage, our correspondent at the scene of the bank robbery that started this morning’s excitement. Andy?”
A grey-haired reporter stood outside the bank, which was sealed off by bright yellow police tape. “Thanks, Susan. Eyewitness accounts indicate that at around ten o’clock this morning, Johnny Nightmare and his Bane Brigade burst into the Chicago Federal Reserve Bank. Nightmare, wielding what witnesses have termed a “sadness ray”, fired at tellers and security guards, whereupon they assumed the fetal position, sobbing uncontrollably. Police arrived on the scene, but were met with staunch resistance from Nightmare’s minions. As Nightmare gathered up the spoils of his latest crime, Justice Girl arrived on the scene. She was momentarily distracted by a hostage situation, allowing Nightmare to temporarily escape, but quickly flew after him and destroyed his helicopter.
“With us now is the hostage from this morning’s crisis,” The camera panned to the left, revealing the blue-eyed beauty from this morning.
Hostage, I quickly corrected myself. Blue-eyed hostage. Blue-eyed, spectacularly beautiful, silken haired hostage.
I blinked a few times, focusing on the screen.
“Could you tell us a little about yourself, Miss?”
She spoke with the chorus-of-angels voice again, “My name is Jenny Kingston, and I’m a graduate student in synthetic neurobiology at the University of Chicago.”
“Fascinating,” intoned the reporter in the standard I’m-somewhat-interested-in-whatever-it-was-you-just-said-but-I-have-a-story-to-report-so-let’s-get-to-the-heart-of-the-matter voice, “And what brought you to the bank this morning, Miss Kingston?”
“Well, my girlfriend and I just broke up a week ago, and I had been living in her apartment…” If she had said anything after that, I completely missed it. I sat in a trance for a few moments, the same phrase repeating itself in my head: “That girl is a lesbian and single?”
Before I could stop myself, I was out of the Justice Cavern in less time than it takes to blink. Literally.
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“Well, my girlfriend and I just broke up a week ago,” I explained, “And I had been renting an apartment with her. I needed to pay her for the last month’s rent, so I went to the bank. The rest is history, I suppose.”
“Fascinating,” repeated the reporter, clumsily rushing into discussing Justice Girl, “What was it like to be rescued by Chicago’s favorite hero?”
I stared out into the crowd for a moment before answering. There were a lot of people, but that was to be expected after a major event like this. They stood restlessly, like a literal sea of bodies - waves moving throughout the crowd, ebbing in and out. I saw a blur in my peripheral vision and suddenly remembered that I was still doing an interview. I shook myself back to the matter at hand. “It was nice, I suppose. I’m glad I got to live, I suppose.”
I bit my tongue - I was repeating myself out of sheer nervousness. The reporter stared at me for a moment, realizing that he wasn’t going to get anything spectacular out of interviewing me. Suddenly he raised his hand to his ear bud. “The chief of police? An exclusive?!? I’ll be right there!” He cut to a commercial and waved his team over to the inside of the bank.
My face turned red as I walked away - I had looked like a complete and utter fool on what was probably national television. And after announcing my school and department, no less! I’d never hear the end of it from the everyone else…
“Don’t be so hard on yourself - you did just fine.”
My face turned an even brighter red as I realized that I had been saying all of my thoughts out loud. I looked up - a tall, brown-eyed brunette woman stood on my right. She was about my age, although her eyes betrayed a worldliness that I envied. She looked and sounded oddly familiar, but I couldn’t quite place where I had seen her before.
“You don’t have to humor me - I know it was awful,” I grumbled, fishing for additional sympathy, “Did you see the way that reporter ran off?”
“So?” The woman responded, her eyes twinkling with kindness, “I was more interested in your story anyway.”
“Really?”
“Oh, certainly. The police held off the Bane Brigade, sure, but you were held hostage by Johnny Nightmare and you lived to tell about it! Not to mention the fact that you met Justice Girl.”
“That’s true,” I admitted as we rounded a corner, “Actually, can I tell you a secret?”
“Sure,” she smiled.
I blushed again for speaking so frankly to a woman I had just met on the street. “As Justice Girl flew out of the bank, she seemed distracted - when I thanked her, she hit her head on the marble ceiling.” The woman shifted uncomfortably, but continued listening. “And I heard it took her longer than usual to capture Johnny Nightmare…”
“What are you saying? That Justice Girl has a crush on you?”
I blushed yet again, then blushed even more for having blushed so much. “Actually, I was trying not to say that, but I guess I was suggesting it, yeah.” I relaxed a little. “It’s just an idea, though. I mean, she dated Billy Liberty for years - I somehow doubt she’d be interested in girls, let alone a clumsy one like me.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said my mysterious companion coyly, “You should never judge a book by its cover. Maybe you were pretty enough for her to realize that she likes girls.”
I chuckled somewhat derisively at the thought.
“Don’t laugh!” my companion blurted, “I mean, I’d date you.”
Now it was her turn to blush. She averted her gaze after her sudden outburst, trying not to look at my face. “Er, how’s your neck doing, by the way?” she asked, gingerly trying to change the subject.
“My neck?”
“From the situation this morning. Hell, if I had been held aloft by Johnny Nightmare, I’d try to forget it too…” My mysterious acquaintance cleared her throat awkwardly, still trying not to look at me.
“Of course, of course,” I mused, “But how did you know about that? The police haven’t reviewed the security cam footage yet and I didn’t mention it in the interview…”
My companion cast her gaze around frantically before her shoulders finally slumped and her head fell, crestfallen. “I knew this was a bad idea,” she muttered, “I knew I’d screw this up!”
“Screw what up? Wait, are you a psychic or something?” I asked, puzzled, “That’s cool, I guess. You should tell the Consortium - we can always use another hero. Just try not to read my mind too much.” Now it was my turn to chuckle awkwardly.
“No, nothing like that,” she sighed, moving her hands behind her neck for the latch of her pendant. She hesitated for moment. “Oh, what the hell, we’re close enough anyway”. As she undid the latch, her clothes faded, giving way to a blue spandex outfit and a red cape. “Remember me?”
I could feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment and flattery just before I fainted.
------------------------------------------
“Remember me?”
Jenny’s face burned red for a moment before she collapsed. I caught her, fortunately, and backed silently into the abandoned building that held the secret entrance to the Justice Cave. I carried her down through the secret entrance and laid her down on the super-couch. The TV was still playing the live footage of the bank - I muted it. As I sat next to Jenny, I could hear her mumbling various phrases over and over through her unconscious state - “Justice Girl… a crush… me? No no no no… not that pretty…”
I sighed and stroked her blond hair delicately. “You might not realize it, Jenny,” I whispered, “But you are that pretty. Pretty enough for me to call in my last favors with my ex-boyfriend so that I could swap my evening shift just to spend time with you, an act that I’ve just realized is incredibly ironic. Pretty enough for me to realize that I’m a - hell, I don’t even know what I am anymore. A lesbian? Bisexual? Pretty enough to draw a superhero into a spiral of confused realizations and reevaluations.”
“That pretty, huh?”
I looked down to see Jenny looking up at me, smiling and blushing slightly. Hell, I probably was too. I smiled hesitantly, unsure of what to say. We lapsed into an awkward silence for a few moments before I finally spoke up.
“Look, I’m really sorry about all this. I should have dealt with this myself before finding you… Instead I impulsively showed up at the bank. I was hoping to get to know you before revealing my identity, but I didn’t really have a choice back there.”
“That’s okay,” Jenny smiled as she sat up, “It was flattering. Really.” She kicked her legs out onto my super-ottoman, relaxing a little. “There’s just one thing bothering me - you mentioned ‘a spiral of confused realizations and reevaluations’. When did this start, exactly?”
I shifted uncomfortably, averting my gaze. “Are you sure you want to talk about this? Even after the… debacle a few minutes ago?”
“It’s not a problem. I’m not expert, but I did go this once myself. It’s the least I could do after you saved my life this morning.”
I sighed, resigning myself to the situation I found myself in. “Well, alright, if you really want to know…”
“I really want to know.” She replied. I looked over at her - I had expected her to be acting out of pity or guilt, but instead she looked sympathetic and respectful. She seemed genuinely interested in helping me figure this out.
I allowed myself to relax a little. “Actually, it started this morning,” I admitted, “When I first saw you in the bank. I don’t know what came over me - I mean, I dated Billy Liberty for seven years. I can’t be gay.”
“Alright, so you’re bi. That’s fine - I’m bi myself.” She laughed at her own unintentional pun. “In more ways than one.”
“But I thought…” I stammered, “I had always thought that bisexuality was just a phase…”
Jenny was taken aback. “And where the hell did you get that idea?”
“I didn’t mean to offend you - I only learned this from some gay friends of mine from a long, long time ago. I mean, they’d probably have I better idea than I would… They had always told me, ‘people are either gay, straight or lying.’”
Jenny stood up, pacing furiously. “I’ll let you off the hook, because you saved my life and all, even though you really should know better. We have even more to discuss than I thought… Just when did you meet these ‘friends’ of yours?”
“In my junior year of high school, just before I was shipped off to the Academy…” A terrifying thought crossed my mind. “Oh God, The Consortium! They’d kill me if they found out. I mean, it’s not like I can keep this hidden forever - the police will review the security footage and someone will notice that I wasn’t myself… They’re probably looking at it right now… They’ll figure it out… This is bad… really, really bad…”
Jenny stopped pacing, sitting down next to me and hugging me tightly. I realized that I had subconsciously curled into a fetal position. Here I was, Chicago’s star superhero, in uniform no less, and I was curled up in fear. “It’s okay, sweetie,” Jenny soothed, “I’ll be here to help you through this… Like I said, I went through the same thing myself…”
I sniffled - the proud superhero in me wanted to die of embarrassment, but the sane part of me didn’t care anymore. I looked up at Jenny, tears clouding my vision slightly. “‘Here’ as in…?” I asked weakly.
She laughed softly and broke the embrace. “As in ‘here’ to help you deal with your sexuality. We can talk about dating later.” She smiled sweetly - at least I hadn’t completely screwed this up.
My mood lifted a little - a silver lining to every cloud, I supposed. “Well, how long do you think this will take? I mean, I’ve got to cover the morning shift tomorrow…”
Jenny laughed again, her voice as angelic as ever. “This isn’t exactly a spur of the moment decision, Justice…” She paused. “You’ll have to tell me your real name sometime. But people don’t just wake up and think to themselves ‘You know, I think I like guys and girls. I must be bi. Okay then.’ It’s a process of ‘realizations and reevaluations’, as you mentioned. It takes time.”
“Time… It’s funny you should mention that…” I commented, suddenly rejuvenated. I stood up and walked over towards the blue sack on my dining room table. I picked it up and untied the golden cord, holding it closed with my fist. “I defeated Professor Chronitis on one of first missions back in 2000, just before The Consortium finally declared that they should be the sole keepers of items looted from villains and other evil-doers rather than the individual heroes who did all the work. I always knew this would come in handy…”
Jenny stood up and walked over to get a closer look. “What’s in it?”
“Time.” I opened the bag a little, allowing the light blue gas within to escape. The TV froze as if someone had paused it. The air grew dry and stale, and Jenny’s watch stopped ticking. “You see, Professor Chronotis had discovered a way to convert spare time into a gas, allowing him to use stored up moments when he needed them most. Of course, he always used them for evil, which is how I wound up with the bag in the first place.
“A few years ago I finally figured out how it worked, and I started storing up some of my time - a moment here, and hour there. I’ve just released it all - it should give us a day or so to get to work through everything. At the end of that time, we’ll re-enter the timestream right where we left it. Sound good to you?”
She leaned against my shoulder and grabbed my hand. “That sounds wonderful…”
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“Re-entering the time-stream in three… two… one…” The air moistened once more, and my TV resumed playing coverage of this morning’s escapades (or yesterday’s, from Jenny’s and my perspective). Once Jenny’s watch resumed ticking, I exhaled in relief.
“What was that for?” inquired Jenny, puzzled.
“Oh…” I stuttered, “I’d never actually tried that before... I wasn’t sure if it was going to work properly.” I tried to avoid eye contact with her for what must have been the tenth time in recent memory.
She stared at me in disbelief. “You mean to say that you used a previously untested device on us.”
“Us?” I questioned mischievously.
Jenny’s mind caught up with her words but I held my hand up to silence her before she could correct herself. “Too late my dear,” I grinned mischievously, “Freudian slip or not, you can’t take it back.”
Now it was her turn to avoid eye contact. The ‘reality pause’ had had its fair share of these moments - while we had certainly worked our way through most of my issues and misconceptions, occasionally Jenny would make a comment implying that I was more than just a troubled soul to her. Sometimes these were clearly intentional, but a few of them had been accidental, which embarrassed her to no end, as she had revealed more than she meant to, I suppose.
We hadn’t actually talked about dating yet, but it seemed to be a foregone (if distant) conclusion, as things were progressing on their own rather nicely, if slowly, of course. Neither of us were about to rush into anything - I still wasn’t sure if I had the courage to admit these recent developments to anyone besides Jenny, let alone the public at large, who I would have to tell eventually. They’d find out one way or another anyway, but it was probably better if I told them up front - if I was ‘outed’ by another source it would seem as though I had been keeping a secret from them, which would immediately cast a dark cloud over the entire issue. Not a good starting point from a PR perspective.
Still, public or no, the last 16 hours helped me become more comfortable with myself, which just this morning I had thought impossible. Things were looking up.
So naturally the moment I thought that it all went to hell.
My TV went black, tuning itself to the top-secret Consortium frequency for an urgent transmission. The screen was a cold and clinical black, with a thick green line running across its center.
“Justice Girl,” the voice intoned flatly, the green line bending up and down with the incoming sound waves, “In light of recent developments, we would like you to report to Consortium headquarters in San Francisco. Bring your standard utility kit and anything you may have used in the last 72 hours. We thank you in advance for your promptness. That is all.” The TV resumed playing the news.
Jenny stared at me, then the screen, then back at me, unsure of what to say.
“Recent developments?” She asked weakly, hoping the voice had been referring to something else.
I softened my gaze and tried to sound confident, even though I was terrified. “I think we both know what those are. I told you someone would find out - the Consortium is rather vigilant that way. I have to go - if I don’t, they’ll send a retrieval team, and that would be bad for everyone. Hopefully the meeting will be relatively short - with any luck I should be back in a few days. We can continue talking then.” I turned to walk towards the hallway that led to the Justice Hangar, where I housed the Justice Jet. “The exit’s on the right,” I stated flatly, unable to face Jenny, “It takes you straight up into an abandoned building. Don’t let anyone see you on your way out.”
The room was deadly silent for a few moments as I trudged away towards my inevitable fate. I wanted to give Jenny a proper goodbye, given that I might not be coming back, but I couldn’t bring myself to let her see my fear-stricken face.
As I mused over my inability to face Jenny, I suddenly found her beside me.
“I’m coming with you.” She said matter-of-factly. She held her hand up before I could interrupt, “It’s not like I have a summer job or anything. No one will miss me. Ordinarily we could just continue our discussion at a later date, but it sounds like you’re going to need as much confidence as possible before you deal with the Consortium. The flight’s several hours long - we’ll have plenty to talk about.” She stepped closer and grasped my hand, allowing our fingers to intertwine. “Consider me moral support, good company and encouragement all wrapped up into one. Besides, I’m not going to let you leave without me with no explanation. There’s no time for one now, so I’ll have to hear it on the way.”
I blinked at her for a moment - I did want her with me, I just hadn’t had the courage to ask. I nodded somewhat solemnly.
“Good. Now then, tell me a bit more about the Consortium. I mean, I’ve heard of them, but mostly just in passing in news clips about superheroes. Who are they and how can they hold such authority over you?”
I recited the official line from the Consortium handbook as we walked to the Justice Jet: “‘In 1977, the country was in turmoil - superheroes were becoming a more noticeable public presence, compared to their occasional appearances in the late sixties and their covert government work in the fifties. Police unions were rioting due to what they perceived as a major threat to their place in society - vigilante superheroes. To combat rising public opinion against vigilantism, The Consortium was conceived as a transparent organization to show the public that superheroes were just trying to do good in the world, and not trying to undermine the police,’” I explained as we climbed into the cockpit, “‘As the police strikes finally stopped, The Academy was created to train superyouths to control their powers and learn the techniques necessary for field work.’
“Unfortunately, since there’s still a national ‘demasking’ bill - which would require superheroes to turn in their masks and take on civilian identities - sitting around in Congress, just waiting to be passed, The Consortium needs positive public opinion to survive. Any missteps against any demographic could lead to anti-vigilante sentiment turning into anti-hero sentiment in general, and dissolution of The Consortium would surely follow - a victory for villains everywhere. To avoid that, they try as hard as possible to maintain a low profile, avoiding politically risky moves and allowing the focus to shift towards individual heroes and their accomplishments. Their viewpoints aren’t stated explicitly, but they aren’t too hard to figure out based on their actions. Of course, if you disagree with these unofficially stated viewpoints, you don’t have to join. You could always be a vigilante.
“But as I mentioned, The Consortium was formed in response to rising public sentiment against vigilantism. No matter how much good you do, if you aren’t a part of The Consortium and you’re a superhero, you have to demask according to the anti-vigilante laws.” I checked a few gauges and flicked a few controls. The Justice Jet roared to life as one of the walls of the underground hangar opened up so that we could take off.
“And what if you don’t? What if you refuse to obey the law?”
“Well, that would make me a criminal hero, wouldn’t it? A contradiction in terms - every time I saved people, they’d thank me and then promptly call the police - if they didn’t, they could be fined under the anti-vigilante laws,” I explained as we flew into the afternoon sun. There was a slight drizzle - after the adventure at the bank, clouds had begun to roll in. “There’s still a very strong undercurrent of loathing for vigilantes - it’s faded since the seventies but it certainly hasn’t gone away. Still, no matter how many citizens wouldn’t mind being saved by a vigilante, there will always be a rather vocal anti-vigilante minority pushing for my arrest if I went rouge. The classic ‘slippery slope’ argument - ‘If we don’t stop the vigilantes now, there’ll be more and more of them until the police are out of work!’” I scoffed at the ridiculousness of it all.
“It’s happened before,” I continued, “Back in the early days of the Consortium, Freedom Lad was the star hero in San Francisco until he made some politically radical statements. He was asked to retract them or turn in his mask. He refused, but continued to save people in staunch violation of the anti-vigilante laws.” As if to fit my mood, the rain grew heavier. Must have been a thunderstorm rolling in.
“And what happened to him?”
“He was jailed, of course. With all the criminals he had put away over his last five years of crime-fighting. We can visit his grave, if you’d like.”
Jenny cringed and stared out of the window for a long moment before speaking again. “And what about you? What will you do?”
“The way I see it, I have four options. Turn in my mask, resign myself to a teaching job at the Academy, go vigilante or apologize to the conservatives and hope for the best.”
I leaned over to Jenny and kissed her forehead, my confidence returning, “And I’m sure as hell not apologizing to anyone.”
We flew onwards into the evening in complete and utter silence, aside from the patter of rain against the Justice Jet and the occasional crack of thunder.
“Storm’s getting worse,” Jenny commented.
“We’ll pass through it soon enough…”
A few notes:
The title and the name of the titular character were originally intended to be simply placeholders until I thought of something better, but they stuck instead, so I kept them.
I've been posting this on facebook for my friends to read and comment almost as soon as I finish writing each section, and I only just recently gave it a quick polish (in other words, I know it's not exactly a masterpiece yet).
Yes, my canon is pretty much a combination of Watchmen and Union Dues...
Also, I know that skipping the over those hours of paused reality is a total copout, but I felt that that the story would be better served by looking at the implications of the conversation, not the conversation itself. The conversation itself would be rather boring, actually. Boring and long. I keep changing how long they have reality paused for, but I think in my latest revision it's 16 hours o_O (some of which is spent sleeping, obviously), and I don't want to write 8-10 hours of conversation.
If you want, I can start posting the sequel chapters, but again, they'd be rather rough
