CCC #143: Blue Paris

Lets try something simple (ish), something interesting (hopefully), and something open (I expect 10,000 entries).

Your story must start with these words: This is Blue Paris

It can be in quotation marks as if being said, it can be just the beginning of a sentence with a comma after Paris...however, whatever but it starts with these four words This is Blue Paris, in English.

What is Blue Paris? Well that's up to you! A person, a chemical, a music track, a new superhero or villain, a secret project, an announcer at the 1924 World's Fair setting the scene...it's up to you. Tie it into an existing world, throw it into the X-Menverse, have it bite Robin Hood's head off, it's your story you take us on a ride but you have to have ONE ORIGINAL CHARACTER in your tale created specifically for this story.

Let's have 15 days to write starting today on the 7th of May, Australian time, and end on the 21st of May at 11.59pm Australian time (click link to check the clock)

Write well, have fun, see you at the finish line. And remember: This is Blue Paris

@wildvine could you pin this and unpin CCC 142 please, or any other mod

Let's wrangle the writers: @cbishop@mrmonster@sundown89@oscuro@richgenx@the_impersonator@waezi2 and

@dngn4774@tommythehitman and @turbinail@firestarter1@arctika and @bravebold and everybody :)

@batkevin74: Nice. I have an idea already. I just hope I get a chance to write it.

@batkevin74: This is so vague and random and I LOVE IT SO MUCH. I was expecting some sort of historicity given your skills with alt history stuff, but this is even better because I'm bad at alt history. Great prompt! I'll start turning my gears immediately

@wildvine: :)

@ficopedia said:

@wildvine: :)

And by "Batsy," I meant Batman, not Batkevin74. ;)

The Millennium Dome, London, 2024

“This is Blue Paris!" The young man with the two-hundred-dollar haircut broadcast to the assembled people at the Annual International Defence Armament and Security Equipment Expo, pointing to the intercontinental ballistic missile that rotated under lights as if it was a new car. "A four hundred kiloton nightmare that comes with the latest A.I technology inbuilt into the warhead. Has a range of over twenty thousand kilometres, which for our metrically challenged American friends is about twelve thousand miles."

The crowd murmured in awe as the young man's voice echoed through the vast expo hall. Amid the audience stood a figure, unnoticed by the throngs of attendees. Clad in a midnight black suit, dark aviator glasses, slick black hair he kept one eye on the sales pitch extolling the virtues of such devastating weaponry, the other upon a group of men gibbering in Farsi.

"Just to clarify, we don't provide the warhead, that's up to your government or the shady Uzbek contingent at stall B65," the young man joked as he slapped the missile. "Blue Paris by the Dassault Corp is the next generation of weapon!" As the audience applauded, the man made his move. He discreetly approached the group of men, his movements silent and precise as he glided through the dispersing crowd. With a swift motion, he slipped a small listening device into the pocket of the nearest man, casually bumped into him, and then fobbed over him about being sorry for his clumsiness.

"All good," grunted the man in heavily accented English as he watched the man walk off.

“Your tick is on the dog,” he whispered into his cuff.

“Good job, Agent Hellstone,” came the reply in his ear. “Observe and standby.”

Agent Hellstone nodded as he headed towards the weaponised food table sponsored by McDoonall’s. The items were as impressive as they were devious; plastic explosive burgers, heat seeking fry missiles, poison cheese shuriken. The woman with red hair that could only come from a bottle smiled at him and started to sing the praises of the death food, but he wasn’t listening. His mind drifted back to the day he joined the US war machine...

__

Sudan, 1991

The SEAL team moved in quickly to secure the area. The caves had just been hit by a pair of GBU-28 Bunker Busters, a combined 8000-pound strike that shook the very earth!

“CLEAR!”

“CLEAR!”

“Command, we have a negative on the mujahadeen group.”

“Standby Cougar Two...”

“Sarge!”

Sergeant Alan Flossberg turned to his heavy weapons specialist to see what he was pointing at. Lying on the ground amidst the dirt was some sort of shattered shale circle, in the centre a twitching humanoid figure with a smouldering piece of paper in his hand. “Command, we need Captain Baba on scene asap!”

“What’s going on, Cougar Two?”

“We have a magical disturbance that is above my pay grade, Command.” Flossberg signalled to his men. “A possible demon or...”

“That,” the words came from within a cloud of pearlescent green smoke that materialised near Flossberg before coalescing into the form of a man in a stylised black army uniform. “Sargent is a devil. Seems Bin Laden and his cohort were trying to make a deal with a devil.”

He stepped forward and grabbed the paper. “Seems the bombs disrupted the summoning...I need a pen or pencil, stat!”

Flossberg fished a pencil from his side pouch and handed over, the man jammed it into his wrist to draw blood, then scrawled upon the paper, the fresh crimson absorbing into the paper.

“Contract wasn’t completed, but it is now.”

The creature wobbled to its feet and glared at the man holding the bloody paper. With a sigh it spoke. “Yes master, how can I serve?”

__

“Targets on the move, Agent Hellstone.”

He nodded at the voice in his ear and began to follow the men as they wandered through the expo of weapons. Hellstone was the name they gave him; he didn’t have one. Devils don’t bother with them, except Lucifer but he was special. He was bound to serve Captain Baba for as long as he remained alive, a fact the US military exploited by keeping him in tip top shape with round the clock security and medical care. Baba was more protected than the President and the healthiest 68-year-old on the planet.

The contract that Baba had altered made Hellstone essentially a servant to the US military in whatever capacity Baba and his superiors saw fit. Being a devil, he could change his shape at will, summon fire, speak all human languages, teleport; which made him an essential asset. Currently he was on secondment to the C.I.A and Homeland Security to stop weapons falling into the wrong hands aka anyone who wasn’t America’s friend and a few who were. He longed for the day where he’d return to the pit, to bask in hellish flames away from the pettiness and stupidity of the humans. This would continue for as long as Baba remained alive and they kept him as far away as possible from Hellstone.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Hellstone stopped in his tracks as he saw man in a grey suit, Chesire smile, and a cane that would make any pimp jealous.

“Jerahmeel!” Hellstone hissed, smoke faintly wafting from his ostrils and ears at the presence of one of the Heavenly Host.

“Jeremy is fine, devil” he stated. “Still working for the Americans.”

“I am bound, chicken boy. I have no say in the matter. You on the other hand, deliberately work for The Russians.”

“The Lord moves in most mysterious ways, does he not?” Jeremy chirped as he started walking the same way Hellstone was going. “It’s a cosmic chess game, we are but pawns...well you are, I’m more of an...”

“A$$#0lLe!” Hellstone spat. “Move or I’ll call in my masters, they’d love to have an angel in the basement.”

“Would you like to know where Baba is?”

Hellstone stopped in his tracks. “Why?”

“Is that a yes?”

Hellstone paused and looked at the angel in human form. “They call us deceivers and liars. I have a job to do.”

Hellstone shoulder checked him, a brief burst of flame occurred between them.

__

Quibbletown Naval Space, Tumon Bay Guam

Agent Hellstone stood in his room having completed his mission. It was technically a cell as he'd never bothered to do anything with it. It was where he spent his time when not following the orders of his human masters. Neat sets of tally marks he’d clawed into the steel covered two walls. A mark for every day he’d been imprisoned. He’d tried to escape many times but being bound by a contract meant it was nigh on impossible.

He simply waited. He didn’t need to eat, or sleep, or breathe as devils didn’t do that. He longed for the day that Baba died, hopefully by his hand, but it would release him and Baba’s soul would be his to drag back to the pit to extract revenge for years of earthly torment.

A blue light glowed in the corner, Hellstone sighed, it meant more work. Not that the work was hard, it was never ending. Even Lucifer rested on the Sabbath and he was the wickedest one of all.

@batkevin74: McDoonal's. Lol

The Pitbull’s Revenge: Blue Paris

Trap Card activated! One of my hobbies is archiving unusual McDonalds incidents, rumors, myths etc. One of the neat factoids I've found is knock off restaurants will use legally distinct variations on the name to trick people into visiting and avoid legal repercussions.

Tangential, it's a fairly common trope in creepypasta to have the protag encounter a well known establishment with a misspelled name or bizarre logo etc. If I may don my honorary tinfoil hat, given the supernatural nature of the story above this could be a hint at otherworldly forces at play a la The Angels, Devils and Squid trope. Or it could be a typo.

I assumed it was one of Batkev's near-alike names, like that time he had characters playing Mokepon, or like the time I had characters mention Spiffy Lube. :)

@cbishop:

@wildvine: lol

Stupid Terra Nova why didn’t I put you in Paris!

@mrmonster: Ah, y'got me. I went into this going, " 'Pittbull's Revenge?' Where did Pittbull appear before? Was he a Macaque villain? Did he fight The Pink Bunny?" Looked on your FOP page- nope. Quick and dirty as usual- it was a fun read. :)

Surely there's a portal on the island somewhere? ;)

Blue Paris Down

“This is Blue Paris, or at least the last attempt to retrieve it.”

The footage from the ground team showed the man running full-pelt through the undergrowth before something impacted him from behind, knocking him to the floor. Shifting the feed, another fleeing agent slipped and fell down into a dark space as another person dressed in a SHIELD blue jumpsuit leapt over him, pursued by a dark shape running on four legs, long plume-like scales sprouting from its body. As the feed rolled over again, the body camera of the last member of the SHIELD team showed a massive black and white lizard tearing his chest apart, viscera dripping from its lips.

“The retrieval team we sent in to recover the Blue Paris satellite array was killed within twenty-four hours. Eight men with over 500 accumulated hours of real-world jungle warfare thrown away—that’s why we’re bringing the four of you in to take over their mission.” The woman dressed in a black tunic and trousers, a pair of scythes strapped to her back, announced as her second in command, dressed in green ballistic armour, charged the blades contained within his gauntlet.

“What makes this rainforest so dangerous?” The bulkiest member of the assembled mercenaries, a lowland gorilla wearing a red beret with two ammo belts of bullets and grenades, slipped over his chest and grunted. “I’ve fought in the Democratic Republic of Congo, Columbia, Myanmar, and Timor Leste, and I’ve never seen creatures like those.”

“Have you ever been to the Savage Land?” The man in the ballistic armour buzzed in a robotic voice as one of the mercenaries, a man dressed in a ghillie suit and armed with a flamethrower-esque weapon, slotted additional grenades onto his leg bracer.

“I have.” A woman dressed in light-powered armour had golden cicada wings sprouting from her back. “I was hired to break up a Roxxon operation, wildcat mining for vibranium. If this place is as bad as that, I can understand why those men were eaten alive.”

“This place is worse, Golden Cicada.” The woman, armed with the scythes, replied. “We have allies and humanoid civilisations in the Savage Land; this place is pure natural aggression fuelled by some malign intelligence.” She added as she tapped the screen, bringing up the schematics of the Blue Paris array. “If it weren’t for the danger posed by Blue Paris, then we wouldn’t be sending people in. The array was launched by Иф, a Russian foreign coercion front, during the Hydra Civil War and was used to attack Paris, hence the NATO reporting name for the array.”

“What shot it down?” The man in the ghille suit asked as the fourth member of the team dressed in jungle camouflage, several mechanical arms strapped to the back of the ballistic vest she was wearing, looked up at the light on the drop bay that flicked from red to green.

“Nobody; it de-orbited.” The woman answered. "Okay, Black Seven, it looks like we are at the drop-off location. Quick go over the rules; my name is Silence, I’m in charge, and when I’m indisposed, Mainframe is.” She explained as she pointed to the figure in green armour, “We have a two-mile hike to the crash site; odd readings are preventing us from getting closer, so gear up and let’s get green and very mean.” She announced, as the mercenaries grabbed their gear and headed to the drop zone, the doors creaked open to reveal a green rainforest surrounding a clearing burnt into the foliage.

“Look at that; the vegetation is already beginning to recolonize the area.” The man in the ghille suit gasped.

“Focus Weed Whacker; the jungle is alive and very hungry.” Silence told him as the gorilla grabbed a massive shotgun and walked to the edge. “Retro-rockets will fire automatically at the set altitude. On my mark, we step off.” She added as she took a step to the edge of the bay. “Ready, mark!” She snapped as she stepped off the edge, falling towards the clearing, the others following her, the rockets on her boots flaring as she drew level with the treetops, slowing her descent until she touched down on the burnt ash of the clearing. One by one, the others touched down safely, swirling cinders rising from the impacts.

“It looks like SHIELD cut a path to the array.” Golden Cicada buzzed as the gorilla walked up to the trail and bent down. “Even if the weeds are already beginning to recolonize the path,”

“SHIELD didn’t cut this; it’s a game trail bulldozed by a multi-tonne animal or animals.” The gorilla replied as he traced a footprint with three short, hoof-like toes on one end. “We need to be careful; the herbivores are often more aggressive than the predators.”

“Guerilla Gorilla is right.” Silence sighed as she drew one of her scythes and looked into the dark tunnel formed by the rainforest understory. "Four-Arm, take point with Mainframe; keep an eye to the side of the game trail as well as directly ahead of us.” She ordered as the woman with the mechanical arms pulled four pistols from her belt and prepared them to defend themselves.

**

Four-Arm’s cybernetic arms scanned the vegetation, their IR scanners straining to see through the darkness as Mainframe led the group. Within minutes of entering the tunnel, the light had faded, day now akin to night, screams and shrieks echoing from the thick green curtains surrounding the mercenaries.

“This place isn’t right.” Weed Whacker hissed as he swung his chemical sprayer as a pair of dark shapes darted above them.

“This rainforest is primaeval, truly primaeval." Guerilla Gorilla grunted as he put his foot down and winced. Looking down, the talking gorilla saw that his foot was trapped in a cage of vines with recurved thorns, and blood was beginning to leak out of the cuts. “This stings!”

“Hold up.” Silence ordered as the group came to a stop. “Weed Whacker, swap out with Mainframe; I doubt we have more than one of these things out here.” She continued before bending down, removing one of her sickles, and cutting through one of the walls of the cage. “Golden Cicada, can you get the antiseptic out of the first aid kit?”

“On it.” Cicada buzzed as Weed Whacker blasted a jet of herbicide at the ground, the plants withering and burning. Removing a first-aid kit, Golden Cicada opened the box, pulled out a small, clear bottle, and handed it to Silence as she cut away the last fragment of vine was cut away. Administering the antiseptic, Silence noticed the blood dripping on the floor, a small grey-skinned lizard slinking towards it, lapping up the blood. Shooing the lizard away, Silence stood up, her eyes darting to shapes moving in the trees.

“Can you keep going?” Silence asked, as Fore-Arm’s cybernetic arms beeped as the picked-up movement.

“I can.” Guerilla Gorilla snorted as the mercenaries saw swarms of grey-skinned lizards climbing up and down the trees and stalking the forest floor. “And we should.” He growled as the lizards darted towards the mercenaries in a swarm, climbing up the mercenaries, biting the exposed parts of their flesh, and slinking under clothes. Screaming, Weed Whacker surged forward, blood pouring down his cheeks.

“Weed Whacker, get back here!” Silence snapped as the others chased after him, only to see Weed Whacker rush through a stream before stepping into a deep pothole, falling below the surface, coughing and spluttering.

“Mainframe, go after him!” Silence ordered as Mainframe charged past her and dived into the hollow, emerging three seconds later with Weed Whacker’s shuddering body, a foot-long catfish clamped over the foot of the mercenary.

“He seems to be paralyzed." Mainframe stated as he flicked out one of his blades and stabbed in under the fish's jaw, leaving it open and cutting through the jaw muscles. Grunting Guerilla Gorilla grabbed the fish by the tail and pulled it off Weed Whacker’s leg. “He needs triage and medical care.”

“We don’t have the manpower.” Golden Cicada chirped as she fluttered her wings, pushing the last of the vampire geckos off of her body. “We’re all wounded, and he is just going to slow us down.”

“Mainframe, bring Weed Whacker with us.” Silence commanded as she stepped onto the surface of the water, pink ripples radiating from her bootsteps. “We need to keep moving; as bad as this jungle is, we need to be the ones to secure the weapons apparatus.

**

Fore-Arm came to a stop as her mechanical arms screeched a warning before powering down. “We have a radiation warning.” She stated as she looked back to where Mainframe was shaking and buzzing.

“We must be in one of the island’s nuclear barrens.” Silence swore as the ground began to vibrate underneath her feet. “The radiation should have died down to habitable levels long ago, though.” She stated as Fore-Arm took one of the pistols from her locked mechanical arms and swung it towards the source of the vibration.

“We need to get the game trail!” Guerilla Gorilla roared as a herd of animals that resembled a hybrid of camel and rhinoceros smashed through the undergrowth and came running towards them. In the three seconds that it took for the stampede to reach them, the mercenaries darted in different directions.

**

Fore-Arm darted in the undergrowth to the right of the path and suddenly realised there was a dip into a gulley, causing her to crash through the undergrowth before coming to a stop, suspended in a tangle of vines. Looking down, Fore-Arm swore as she looked down to see herself suspended at least thirty feet above the ground.

“Override Code: Osnick.” Fore-Arm gasped as her arms depowered for ten seconds before the motors powered back on, some mobility restored to them. “I need to climb out of this.” She groaned as she caught sight of a green, armoured centipede scuttle across her arm. Wretching, she swatted at the arthropod, her weight shifting slightly and one of the mechanical arms slipping out of the vines, cradling it. Seconds later, more centipedes came crawling along the vines, causing Fore-Arm to swift and turn more vines, sloughing off her frame until the last one slipped away and Fore-Arm plummeted before reaching the end of the vine, her neck snapping.

**

Golden Cicada sprung leftwards into the undergrowth, the thorns and vegetation slashing through her wings and ripping the armour to shreds before she landed face down in a pool of mud. Getting to her feet, she removed her broken helmet and dropped it onto the floor.

“I’m leaving.” Cicada buzzed as she looked at the odd vegetation around her and came to a stop as she spotted rustling vegetation. “Silence is that you?” She asked as whatever was in the underbrush moved away. “Get back here!” Cicada screamed as she fired a sonic blast at the undergrowth—the scream of a wounded animal crying out. As the scream died down, more rustling began behind her, causing Cicada to spin around, just in time to see a bird as tall as her with a hooked beak swing at her. Blasting it away, Cicada felt a second attacker hit her from behind, a beak like a butcher’s hook slashing through her shoulder.

Screaming in pain Cicada saw a third bird approach, limping on one foot from her previous attack, and loom over her as she fell to her knees. Looking up, she saw the wounded bird swing its beak down into her skull, causing her to see no more.

**

Guerilla Gorilla and Silence leapt up, the later hovering on sonic vibrations, watching the stampede run past. By the time they had passed, Weed Whacker’s body was crushed, lying in a halo of footprints and trampled circuitry, and Mainframe’s head was compressed and lying upside down in a three-hooved footprint.

“Mainframe.” Silence sighed as she dropped down and picked up Mainframe’s head. “Speak to me.”

“System damaged; seek triage.” Mainframe groaned as Guerilla Gorilla dropped down and walked over to where he had dropped his mini-gun. the barrel bent and buckled. “We lost Fore-Arm and Golden Cicada.” She sighed as she flipped open part of the machine’s skull and pressed a button. “I’ve set the triage location; if you want to head back, I can push on alone.”

“I don’t back down.” Guerilla Gorilla grunted as he removed a machete from his leg sheath. Smiling, Silence clipped Mainframe’s head onto her belt before drawing her two sickles.

“Then let’s finish this.” Silence hissed as the remaining pair of mercenaries headed further down the game trail.

**

Cutting through the screen of vegetation, Guerilla Gorilla stumbled into the clearing where the Blue Paris satellite had crashed. Following him out, Silence drifted over to the machinery, placed Mainframe’s head down next to the satellite array, and tapped a button below where the jaw should be.

“Scanning weapons chamber, internal biological contaminant detected.” Mainframe buzzed as Guerilla Gorilla loomed behind Silence.

“The satellite’s body looks intact; it survived re-entry and impact well enough.” Guerilla Gorilla grunted as he went to touch the satellite, only to stop as Silence shot him a look.

“There shouldn’t be contamination inside the firing container.” Silence told him as she held her hand out, sonic vibrations rattling the firing chamber. “Unless there was more to the weapon than meets the eye.” She added as the door to the firing chamber popped over to reveal tubes filled with coagulated blood and a half-rotted corpse hanging from the array. “Mainframe, run a scan.”

“Scan-complete, biological specimen is registered as Maximoff, Wanda.” Mainframe informed them as Silence lowered her sickles.

“So, this is what happened to her after Onslaught.” Silence sighed as she looked at Guerilla Gorilla. “I don’t know if she’s alive. I know we have orders to recover the weapon core, but I don’t know how much she’s worth saving like this.”

“Then let’s make sure she doesn’t fall into another’s hands.” Guerilla Gorilla snorted as he removed a charge from his belt. “Thermobaric charge; it should vaporise anything organic.” He added as Silence grabbed Mainframe’s head and took a step away from the satellite. Setting the explosives, the remaining mercenaries ducked behind a smashed solar panel, as seconds later, the weapons chamber of the Blue Paris array immolated. The boom of the explosion caused the sounds of the rainforest to stop, and the wildlife was silenced.

“Mainframe wirelessly bore into the firing data.” Silence sighed as she turned to look at the undergrowth. “Let’s head to the egress point.” She added as the pair of mercenaries headed back into the undergrowth.

**

Silence and Guerilla Gorilla smashed out of the undergrowth as they reached the triage area and the area where their dropship was hovering above. Standing in the clearing, a grey-skinned figure dressed only in a belt made of human teeth carved out of obsidian glass with an elongated skull and no nose stood watching them.

“Ebony Command, we have an unknown factor here.” Silence stated as she looked at the figure, her hands clutched on the sickles.

“Who are you?” Guerilla Gorilla growled as the figure tilted its head before disappearing in a puff of foul-smelling grey smoke.

“A mystery for another day.” Silence replied as she looked up at the dropship. “Although perhaps it’s one that should never be solved.”

_________________________________________________________

Provenance and Notes

@wildvine: It was a deliberate change of McDonald's to McDoonal's to avoid any possible infringement but close enough so you know who I'm talking about (just like Mokepon as @cbishop correctly points out) possibly even a nod to Coming To America with McDowell's :)

I like that I inadvertantly tied that in with my angle & demon motif

I look forward to see what you hit us with

5th Column Comics: The Paris Dome Crisis

5th Column Comics: The Paris Dome Crisis

Just outside of Paris, France:

" 'This is Blue Paris.' That's the translation of 'C'est Paris Bleu' - a sign held by a young Parisian woman standing at the perimiter of The Parisian Impact zone. 'S'il te plaît, je veux partir' just below it in smaller letters: 'Please, I want to leave.'

"Only three days ago- some eleven years after The Great Impact of Indigo City- there has been a remarkably similar incident just behind me in Paris, France. The blue gas that was rumored to have flooded the streets of Indigo City in 2013 is clearly evident here, because it's trapped inside a giant energy dome - a force field that is simply being called The Paris Dome- and it has yet to dissipate.

"Early reports from Interpol indicate that after The Great Impact, France, like other countries all around the world, began research and development on ways to protect its major cities against alien attack, even though that has never been confirmed about Indigo. The crash that happened here sheared through the Eiffel Tower without warning, and apparently struck the French research facility, activating the Dome by accident. The blue gas, with everyone who was in Paris at the time, is trapped inside.

"Attempts to communicate with those inside the Dome have been troubled. The Dome emits a constant, low-pitched hum, somewhat like the sound you'd hear when standing under electric power lines, and it has both soundproofed the city, and cut off all forms of electronic communication between Paris and the outside world.

"That's what has brought people to the perimiter of the Dome with signs. It has been the only way to talk to people on the other side. The girl with the sign- who would not identify herself, but the world has dubbed Paris Blue- was among the first to the Dome's edge where she was greeted by press, and instant fame.

"So far, no one has been in a hurry to find a way to disable the Dome, as by Day Two of The Paris Dome Crisis, crowds of people seemingly disfigured by the gas flooded the Paris streets, and even attacked the walls of the Dome itself. Paris Blue disappeared in the confusion, and has not been seen since. Her sign lies trampled in the dirt after the stampede of zombie-like people.

"The world is still scrambling to understand what is going on inside the Paris Dome, as the lockdown of Indigo City has never been lifted. There are rumors of a special government agency that was formed to handle the unique problems in Indigo being mobilized to come to Paris. We only know its initials at the moment: C.B.T.F. 'T.F.' is being assumed as 'Task Force.' No one is sure what the 'C.B.' stands for, although speculation abounds.

"We will continue to cover The Paris Dome Crisis with updates as they become available. For the French desk of Vital News Now, I'm Nevar Farr."

Indigo City, Headquarters of the Carrier Blight Task Force:

"Director... who are you?" asks Agent Rhonda Carter as she enters the director's office.

"You were on the right track," says the man at the desk, closing a file. "Name's Fred Cho. I'm the new director of the CBTF."

" 'New?' What happened to Director--"

"--Replaced," Cho says firmly. "Senator Rusche didn't like the way the Carriers were handled in 2017, and cleaned house of the upper ranks. Just came down today. Apparently, he was just about to clear the red tape for it in 2020 when the pandemic hit, and it was delayed until now."

"Never thought I'd be glad to not get that promotion," says Carter.

"About that. I need someone to head up the unit going to Paris. Your jacket's impressive," he says, pointing at the file he had closed when she came in. "You want the job?"

"I'm your woman, sir," she says with a salute.

Cho grunts. "I'm happily married, Carter."

Carter only smirks.

"Pick your team, get 'em scrambled, and have their names on my desk by morning. You leave by 1800 tomorrow. Paris would have blown already if it weren't for that dome."

"Yes, sir. Anything else?"

"That's it," says Cho. As Carter turns to leave he adds, "Oh, by the way, you're a captain now."

Carter's head snaps around at that. She smiles like she can taste the power. "Yes, sir," and she leaves the office.

Cho looks towards the door for a few seconds after she's gone, then shakes his head as he picks up another dossier. With a chuckle, he says, "Her file said she's ambitious. Fred, old boy, I hope you haven't created a monster."

35th floor of Tour First, Paris, France:

I don't know what happened to our city, but it is in total chaos. There was the crash. Then the dome. Then the gas. The press on the other side of the dome. And then... those things. Are they really zombies? When they attacked, I panicked. I threw my arms up to shield myself, and then... nothing happened. I opened my eyes, and they were walking right through me! I backed up, trying to get away, and found my back up against the dome.

I panicked again, and found myself somewhere else. There were more of those monsters. A couple of them grabbed me, and tried to bite my arms. I screamed, and their teeth broke on my arm. There wasn't a scratch! I punched one, and its head exploded! I'm pretty strong now. That freaked me out, and I was somewhere else again.

I was in an open square, and there were more of them coming. I looked around, and I spotted Tour First. I wished I was there, and then I was. I've been here ever since. I had to clear the floor of some of these monsters, but I managed well enough. There are some normal people here- they helped. They fought with whatever was at hand. Some of them died.

When it was all done, we sat chairs in front of the elevator doors to keep them open, so they wouldn't bring more of those things here. We used the emergency stop buttons at first, but that set off the alarm bells, and it was maddening. Luckily, someone with a key for it was on this floor, so we were able to turn them off.

We're holing up here for the time being, trying to figure out what's going on. We can't get internet. Can't get calls out of the city. People are panicking all over. I've been seeing different colored bright flashes all over Paris. I guess there are others like me- with some kinds of abilities, I mean.

I wrote notes back-and-forth with press outside the dome, and they said the world is calling me Paris Blue, because of my sign. I like it, so I told the people here to call me that. They also said there's help coming. Some kind of Task Force. I hope they get here soon. And I hope the blue gas clears up. I don't like it here, and I want to go home.

Notes	Characters, etc.
Copyright:	Story and characters ©Chrrs Bishop, 2024. Except for the 5CC things. See "5th Column Comics (5CC)" below.
Original Characters (OC's):	Blue Paris (as a nickname of Paris, France) [Parisian Impact Zone] Fred Cho (Director) Nevar Farr Paris Blue The Paris Dome (The Dome) The Paris Dome Crisis Rhonda Carter (Agent; Captain) VNN (Vital News Now) unnamed wife of Fred Cho
5th Column Comics (5CC):	Blights Carriers Carrier Blight Task Force (CBTF) The Great Impact Indigo City Senator Rusche
Pics I made:	This is Blue Paris Please, I want to leave [MS Paint] I'm Neva Farr (VNN logo) [MS Paint] CBTF logo (found a free logo maker) [5CC- feel free to use this logo]
Pics I found on the Internet:	...sheared through the Eiffel Tower... [screenshot from a movie] Energy dome concept sketch Her file said she's ambitious [added Rhonda Carter's name in MSP] And then... those things. [futzed with in MSP] Tour First [actual building in Paris, France]

See you on the voting thread, peeps! :^D

@cbishop: Okay that is amazing...

@wildvine: That sounds interesting indeed...

Thanks, Sun'. :)

we have ourselves an actual smackdown writeoff