basic_powers: (hiding in plain sight)
"Why can't I come along for this?" Cecil asked Tyler for what was the third time in the last fifteen minutes as his friend had just sprung the news of a possible interdimensional party being thrown in the next few months. They'd just spent the last hour working out their coverstories for the event when Tyler had stopped and said he'd have to talk to someone about permissions for this.

"I didn't have to ask permission to rescue you from the Rock of Challenge*!"

"That's because, one you were traveling with Malphast who is on their okay list, two, you're haven't been their employee before. This is just a courtesy call so their monitors don't blow a gasket."

"You've been employed by them before??"

"Yes, during that whole thing with the Frozen North Horrors**."

"So wait, you got paid and everything, right, some cool gadgets..."



It took a better part of the remaining afternoon to find the payphone he needed and to dial the passcode numbers on the card. There was the responding dialling and click from the other line before someone picked up.


"Blue Moon over Kansas, calling to report."

-"Identity confirmed, connecting to reporting officer."-

Tyler sighed as the on-hold music played, waiting at the payphone. He didn't mind much hold music, but listening to 'hello my ragtime gal' so many times while waiting for his contact to pick up was a pain in the butt.

-"Hello Moon Shadow, what have you got to report in person?"-

"You know I'd rather talk to you guys in person. Besides that, my paper reports keep getting 'lost'."

-"*sigh* I suppose that's someone in the US end again...I'm very sorry about that."-

"You're not the only one, I think I know who's causing it on my end, but legally getting them to stop is..." Tyler shook his head. "Anyhow, I thought I'd give you a heads up that I'll be bringing some people from Milliways over for visits."

-"You know, we're alright with Dr. Stantz, why would you...oh lord."-

"...uhm..yeah most of em are going to be non-human, but I think I can handle it if I never take more than two home..."

-"...there's nothing I can do to talk you out of this? The head of the ministry is starting to take a special interest in your case."-

"Nope, too many people've let me visit their worlds, and I really ought to pay it forward. And at least one birthday party."

He could hear the groan from Agent Korpan on the other side of the phone, and waited. The grownup probably had to drink his peptobismol again.

*Frozen Horrors, Frozen North, a Ray Stantz production
**PS238 #23
basic_powers: (1935!tyler)
"In other news today, the police are warning citizens that there have been a rash of house-break ins and robberies. Please be advised to keep your windows and doors locked when you leave and when you are in your house. Events have been reported ranging from all over the city..."


"Hey Tidy! You got a request pick up over on 36th!"

"What's the package?" 'Tyson' hefted his bike over one shoulder and a messenger bag over the other, jogging up to the dispatch kiosk.

"No saying, just that you're to get there to pick it up." Neal, the current shift and dispatch supervisor shrugged, Tidy Tyson always had to ask who he was going to and from sometimes. He just chalked it up to the guy wanting to keep his nose clean. Some outfits for couriers ended up with some damn shady characters, and it wasn't always worth the extra scratch for the trouble. "They asked for you specifically. Guess you're making a name for yourself over in that part of town."

"Well, if a good name'll earn me some more good clean money...can't save enough, you know?"

"Hey, ain't you worried about your place, with all these break ins goin on?"

"Nah, I live in too poor a part of town, this Calgary Catburglar's only been hitting middle class places and upwards." Tyson snorted, reading over his other morning deliveries. "Sides that, my bike's the most expensive thing I own."

"...yeah about that..."

"What? I modified it."

"Most people don't modify a Schwinn B-9."

" Look, all I did was fix up the chain on a busted model and made the front and rear crowns to hold a wider tire, and adjust the handlebars." Tyson gave Neal a look. "Nothing illegal, couple of the other guys've done it. Makes for tires that handle the snow and ice better."

"Whatever you say peaches. Don't be late with that sheet."

"Later Neal." Tyson was already out the door, swinging on a helmet and getting his bike down into the slush of the snow.


"Also in the community news today, Martin Thadgradger, age 54, leader of the Veteran's Support Society, suffered from some sort of collapse in his home today. He is in the hospital at this time, as doctors are looking for a cause to his sudden breakdown. Friends and family members wishing for support can visit the.."


"Mr. Reeves, you are impeccable with your timing and delivery as ever."

"Thank you sir," Tyson smiled and bowed with a slight semi-formal salute to the cleanly dressed man. "I hope to be of service to you in the future."

"Perhaps you will, I have friends who could always use your...unique talents in the future. In the meantime, have a good day, here is your tip."

"...Thank YOU sir,!" He exclaimed looking from the wad of 10's in Mr. Goldschtein's outstretched hand. "I'll remember this."

"Yes, I'm sure you will." The man smiled, closing the door and watching Tyson 'Tidy' Reeves as he got back onto his bike and made his way speedily down the street to his next assignment. "Well, your thoughts on him as a footsoldier?"

" improper place for someone with such obvious intelligence and devotion to the cause, but we'll see if he is true later. You're quite certain he's the burglar?"

"Quite. I had him studied for being a...lesser soldier, until I noticed an odd correlation between his delivery stops, and who was robbed. It's just speculation, but it is interesting."

"We'll see how he fares...would he strike us?"

"Never, too loyal to the party."

"Hrrm. We could use someone like him. Have him watched closely."

"Yes, sir."

Outside Tyson smiled, three blocks away as he recieved every word from the rapidly dissolving radio transmitter. There would be no trace that he had heard every word of that all.
basic_powers: (Adult!Tyler-considering)
Dear Journal,

12th day in the Calgary. Thankfully, have been able to get job as a bike-courier for various packages. Amazing how nice things can be when you change your location frequently. Got decent deal in pawning off valuables to various shops, enough to pay for a place to stay, and buy a decent used bike. So nice to have a roof over my head and some privacy when I sleep. Not very secure, easy for someone to get in through the window here, so the 'jar of fat' is being kept somewhere else for now.

Have begun casing out a few places to try and refill the jar with, pickings look a bit slim but I think that there a few nests around here that I can steal a few eggs from. Will go exploring tomorrow.

He set down the pen and looked around the shabby little apartment which could have fit into his living room in Seattle. There was a bed, a sink, a bike in here, a small stove for cooking, the window to the fire escape and not much else save for his bag that had the basic essentials a man of this time period would need. Toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, 2 changes of regular clothes, one spare outfit, two pairs of Converse Jack Purcell sneakers, a heavier winter coat that had two special gloves hidden in the lining, along with a set of theives tools, his real audio journal thumbstick, and a very special pad of paper.

'Tyson 'Tidy' Reeves' sat back in his chair thinking, he'd sold himself as being a somewhat reliable bike he'd have to set himself up as a thief, not one who went for big scores at jewelery outlets, or the like, but one who did home invasions. This...this would not go over very well unless he let the big guy know first.

He drew the curtains shut, reached into his bag, removed the special pad of paper...and began to write. Maybe if the big guy of Canada would be watching the matching one like a hawk right now.

Red Panda

Tyson 'Tidy' Reeves

Report: Settled into Calgary, have cover as bike courier. Voice subtle National Socialist props at casual events, not at work. Working to build reputation as 'intelligent house-thief', most likely what the targets will be looking for, plan to keep track, pay back double what taken. Respond.

The words sank into the paper and disappeared. How long before there would be a response.
basic_powers: (1935!tyler)
Dear journal,
Miss Squirrel's offering to teach me how to box today, since I have a lot of free time around the lair...

"Okay now just put your feet like this and keep your weight on the balls of your feet, Short Pants."

"Kay." Obediently Tyler did so moving closer to the punching bag set up on a spring and looking towards the fearless fighting female for further guidance.

"Awright now just lean forward and give that punching bag a good left jab."
-phunt!- -sproooong- "Hey I-"
-grooonk- -thunt!- -thump-

Tyler looked at the punching bag on his butt, bewildered with a glove-covered hand going to his right eye.

"Uhh..Boss? We got any icepacks?"

Dear journal,
I've been here over two weeks now. I miss TV and books so much right now. I caught myself wishing Cecil or even Zodon were here.

So far no luck on the coaster portal working yet, but they keep saying give it time.

Meanwhile I've been exploring the Lair and some of the caves whenever Miss Squirrel and Mr. Red Panda have both been out. So far nothing much except for some tubes and the workshop, which has a lot of gizmos and other things in it that might be interesting later.

Soon as they're out I'm going to take a flashlight and start exploring the caverns and tunnels.

Tyler, while being very well-behaved and trustworthy for a child his age and size, does have limits to his patience and his ability to put up with the same routine day after day. After the moment he doesn't hear either of the masked do-gooders talking in the lair or in any space where the sounds would carry to it. Scooping up his backpack he started along one of the tunnels to see where it'd come out.
basic_powers: (1935!tyler)
Dear Journal,
I've been staying with Miss Squirrel and the Red Panda for a couple of days now. I don't think the Red Panda believes that I did take out two armed goons with a can of beans. That's okay though, because then he doesn't ask questions about how I did it.

Living in the 1930's isn't so bad, the food's better than the cafeteria food...which really isn't saying much. But at least it doesn't get away under its own power. Speaking of, they haven't asked what the putty egg is yet.

The clothes here are weird. Miss Squirrel brought me a couple of sets of clothes, since the one I was wearing was starting to smell a little ripe. I don't think they've invented elastic waistbands yet, so I've got to button everything up. Oh. And suspenders will give you a wedgie when you sit down if they're on too tight.

Mr. Red Panda is also letting me practice my lightsaber katas, I didn't bring it along with me, but I think he gets the gist of it being a sword made out of light. I don't have much for classes, or homework here, so I've got a lot of time to practice.

That's all for now, I can hear Miss Squirrel and the Red Panda coming in, so I'd better get back to bed before they come in here...

With that, the little boy tucked up his notebook, turned off the reading lamp and quietly scampered back to the storage cave that was his room for now. For a few minutes he listened to the echo-distorted sounds of the masked do-gooders discussing something that sounded important. Then, tucking the notebook under the sleeping bag on his cot, he crawled into bed and settled down for the night.

Maybe tomorrow Dr. C would figure out how to send him home.

One could always hope.
basic_powers: (zonked out)
After an examination at the musuem, it wasn't long before Tyler was politely blindfolded and put into the backseat of the car. It isn't anything new, and he really understands the need for secrecy, even if currently he has all the directional and navigational ability of a drunk seagull in this town, the duo DOES need to keep their lair (or is it lairs?) a secret.

He's still trying to figure out everything else aside from getting home in his head as the drive starts, going over the times in his head. He left in the afternoon, was still on afternoon time when it was late-night in Toronto and unfortunately despite Constable Parker's best efforts, he didn't sleep well last night.

Suffice to say, the boy is jetlagged to heck and back as the adrenaline rush of finding out his friend is ok wears off.

Which is why, much later (after another musical sting) the boy is fast asleep in the back of the car and snoring into his elbow as the car pulls into the lair.
basic_powers: (zonked out)
Somehow, despite, or maybe because of his own fear at being trapped in this time and place, Tyler managed to fall asleep on the cot of Cell #18 last night, curled up with his backpack for a pillow.

Jake and Sully haven't noticed who else is in the cells farther down, by now having awakened with the groans of people who have very bad headaches and a desire to consume a lot of asprin.

It's 8 am...and all's quiet for now.
basic_powers: (upset)
For several moments Tyler waited, watching the shadows and the hallway for any signs that the police officer was coming back at all to talk to him. After a few minutes he was entirely certain that the coast was clear.

Never in all of his life had he been so very grateful that he'd gotten a backpack with more secret compartments than a chinese puzzle box. He dug around, fingers brushing past the daffy putty egg and it's controller, and the keychain that activated the armor boost, until his hands found the compact long-distance communicator and headset. He had no idea what the range on this thing was in this world but...he had to at least try.

He checked once again to see if anyone in the shadows, windows, or hallway was watching before he flipped open the little video screen and tucked the bluetooth set into his ear. goes nothing.

He tried turning the dial until he didn't get as much static anymore...

"Hello? Mr. Revenant?"

Nothing...except more static.

"Mr. Revenant...come in please..."


"Mr. Creepy guy from the castle?"

"...Hall of mirrors?"


Finally something did come in..and Tyler strained to hear what was being said, hoping it was someone..anyone.

~Hello my baby, hello my honey, hello my ragtime gal.... !!~

For a while he listened to what was coming in over the communicator...before turning it off, closing it up and tucking it back into the backpack. Then he hugged his knees to his chest and buried his face in them talking to himself very quietly, trying not to freak out and cry.

He had never felt more alone. He had once. But he was well and truly alone here.

"I will not fear. Fear is the mind-killer, the spark-destroyer that brings total obliteration. Where fear leads I do not follow; where fear forbids, I go as needed. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain...."
basic_powers: (waugh! omgwtf)
Tyler jolted, jumping up at the sudden touch of someone's hand on his shoulder as Enzo was inside the tree house. He fell forward, face first into a puddle of grim and slush, and got up coughing to look back at what had grabbed him when he saw his surroundings.

He wasn't near the treefort anymore.

I'm pretty sure I'm not in Milliways anymore... Tyler thought as he looked around, wiping the muck off of his clothes. He was in some kind of back alley, between two old brick and wood buildings with a bunch of junk, paper and debris collected in the corners. Pretty sure this isn't Kansas either.

There were voices, people talking outside of the alleyway, he could hear them, but not make out what they were saying.

I bet I've fallen into the past. AGAIN. Tyler thought to himself creeping up towards the voices slowly to see if they were friendly.
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