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Adroit Comics, Capital City Mysteries, Curtis Perry

It had already been a month since the last time I had met my brother for lunch. It seemed like not too much had changed in the last few weeks. Shavonne and I were still having the same disagreements, though we hadn’t broken up. However, there was some movement in my ongoing Adroit investigation.

I looked around the crowded subway car. It was amazing how every person in that tiny space had a story that could fill volumes of books. Each and every person there had experienced life changing events, and the memories were all held within their hearts and minds. My heart and mind couldn’t help but feel heavy if I thought about my own story for too long.

It was far easier to focus on everyone else’s problems.

My patience was wearing thin with main stream reporting. I was just getting so tired of the bosses trying to hide the fact that Adroits were real! I knew they were real. The good news was that more and more people were beginning to see the truth. It was hard not to. With all of the reported sightings of super power humans, anyone should be able to see what was really going on.

But with hard nosed, money hungry publishers like that gruff, old George Wilson running things, the truth would never get out. There was no way he would risk upsetting anyone important, or influential, especially not with so many big budget advertisers lining his pockets.

I had experienced the pitfalls of Wilson’s pugnacious profit driven publishing time and time again. I’d felt the sting of fury as my hard-hitting editorial submissions were rejected and ultimately ended up in the rubbish bin. It had happened more times than I cared to count.

The subway car rumbled as we sped through the tunnels. Of course, there were maybe a hundred diners between my apartment and Ronny’s Diner, but this one had been my favorite for years now. When I first moved to Capital City, it seemed like I ate every meal there. Even when my cash was low, the owners always made sure I had something to eat.

Now, it was tradition. And, to be honest, it was the only place in the city where I truly felt at home. Ronny and his wife Rhonda had always made me feel welcome, and Dexter too, no matter how rough he may have looked. Though I looked forward to seeing my brother, our last meeting had been so strange. I had never seen Dex act like that before.

Truth be told, I’d been uneasy since our last lunch. My mind had been pondering over what could have caused such a transformation. He mentioned something about a new program, and a job, but he didn’t say too much else. That weird staring thing wasn’t sitting well with me either.

As the subway came to a halt, I prepared to make my way out of the car. As the people around me did the the same, I couldn’t help but remember how I’d found Dexter on this very subway line years ago. He had been missing for a year or two, when suddenly, he just appeared on the train.

At first glance, I knew it was him. How could I not know the face of my older brother? But for a moment, I second guessed myself. “It can’t be him,” I thought to myself. It didn’t matter, I knew the truth, and I had to say something to the man.

It was hard, but he was happy to see me, and I felt the same way. That’s when I found out that he’d been drifting around the city from shelter to shelter, just trying to find his way in life. That day we had lunch at Ronny’s, and it’s been our tradition ever since.

Walking up from the underground station, my eyes had to adjust to the light. People hustled and bustled by me, tending to their ever so important business. I had business to to tend to as well, but first, lunch.

I still couldn’t shake that uneasy feeling that had been following me for the past month. Hopefully things were going well for my brother, and all of this angst would have been for nothing. My steps brought me closer to the doorway of Ronny’s Diner. My eyes scanned the street in front of the building for his familiar smiling face.

Dexter wasn’t there.

No matter how crazy his life may have been, he always arrived before me. Even the time that he ended up in the emergency room with a broken arm, he was still there before me, cast and all. This was definitely a change. An unwelcome change.

Maybe he was already inside waiting at our table. I didn’t see him through the window. The table was empty, waiting for us to arrive as always. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and walked into the busy restaurant.

“Hey Curtis honey!” Shouted Rhonda from behind the breakfast bar. “Where’s Dex?” She asked.

“Hey Rhonda, how’s it going? I wish I knew. This is his first time being late for our lunch.”

“I’m sure everything is ok. He’ll probably show up any minute. Your table’s waiting for you honey. I’ll be right over.”

I just nodded at her and headed to the table.

In my heart, I really hoped that Rhonda was right.

To be continued . . .

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Capital City, Curtis Perry, International News, Local Government, National Government, New Sienna

By Curtis Perry – Investigative Reporter

Royal General Donovan Vonderdom — a name that strikes fear in hearts of many men. He has gone down in history as the youngest Royal General to ever be appointed to the New Sienna Royal Guard. Though some speculate that his eldest son, Adonis, may be the first to break that record.

Pompous, demanding, and unyielding are words that some have used to describe him. Though the public at large believes he’s a hard-working royal with a heart for philanthropy. The truth is, he does a great job of putting his best foot forward to keep the public on his side. However, those closest to him aren’t quick to share their truest opinion of him, for fear of the consequences.

The VOND Corporation is one of the biggest companies in the world. With diverse holdings that run the gamut of industries, Donovan’s enterprise is beyond impressive. There are very few that rival his profit margin, and even fewer with same level of relentless pursuit towards success . . . No matter the cost.

Some attribute VOND Corps overwhelming achievements to Donovan’s keen business sense. Others say its due to his ruthless nature. Regardless of how the company has grown over the years, it takes hard work and dedication to stay on top. It seems like the retired general has a talent for making things happen.

His pockets run deep and his influence reaches further than most would believe. However, though he wants to be, he is not invincible, nor invulnerable. And he is certainly not all-powerful. Though he would have you believe that he is.

Donovan has seen more than his fair share of battle. To be honest, he misses the fight. He looks back on his days of combat with fondness and a sense of nostalgia. Those were his good old days. He is, without a doubt, a warmonger in the purest sense of the word.

Centuries ago, his family built their fortunes in war, battle, and weaponry. So it should come as no surprise that VOND Corp’s key projects fall into these areas of interest. However, the man is shrewd and posses a brilliant mind. His corporation‘s investments, acquisitions, and holdings are so complicated that even the most seasoned detectives could get lost in the search, and never find their way back to Donovan.

He’s got big plans underway with his sights set on higher profits and more power than he has ever gained before. However, things are not going as planned and the retired general is certainly not alright with that. It’s his way or his way, and that’s the way it always has been.

But times are changing, and someone has decided that they’re coming to bring down Vonderdom in a major way. He has made many enemies in his life, so the suspect list is far too long. The search for the party responsible for robbing his banks won’t be an easy one. However, that’s where those deep pockets come in handy. At least that’s what he thinks.

Soon Donovan Vonderdom will have to realize that money can’t buy everything, especially not protection from the Militia.

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Adroit Comics, Capital City Gazette, Capital City Mysteries, Curtis Perry, National Government, New Sienna

In the land of New Sienna, there are many folks who like to bury their heads in the sand. Fearful of the truth, they go about their lives, desperately fighting to survive in a hostile world. Things always seem to be getting worse, as though all of the world is erupting in chaos. The bad news: Chaos is on the rise. The good news:, There is always hope.

My name is Curtis Perry, and I’m a reporter. Well, I suppose that I’m actually much more than a reporter. This curious life of mine began as the son of two mild-mannered immigrant farmers, haling from the Island of Keepaton. Very religious, they always told me stories of the ancient days. They were very certain about The Creator’s plan for our lives, and the existence of divinely appointed protectors sent to defend us all from Darkness. As a child, it was hard for me to truly understand much of what they taught me. It seemed so far-fetched. That was until one of those fabled protectors showed up and saved my family.

I was only ten years old. It was the middle of the night when our house caught on fire. I tried to wake my mother and father, but they’d somehow been knocked unconscious on the kitchen floor. I screamed for help and remembered what my parents had taught me. It was then that I prayed.

Suddenly it seemed as if everything stood still. The flames stopped flickering; I couldn’t even hear myself breathing. My line of vision became filled with a brilliant golden light. My senses were overwhelmed and I felt an unexplainable peace.

In the blink of an eye, I had been transported safely outside of our burning home. I looked down, and my parents were laying on the ground beside me. When the firefighters and police finally showed up, I told them my story.

Of course no one believed me. They chalked it up to adrenaline-induced-delusions. They also decided that I was the one who saved my parents from the burning building. That could be the only explanation, as far as they were concerned. Thankfully, my parents believed every word I said. The experience only increased their faith and mine. From that moment on, I was sure of two important things. Number one: The ancient stories were undoubtedly true. Number two: The powers-that-be had no intention of letting that truth get out.

Nine years later, in 3058, I was drafted into the Royal Military. Of course, yours truly wasn’t too keen on the idea of fighting someone else’s war, but I had little choice in the matter. It was there that I gained an even deeper understanding of the way things truly work in this world.

Its been 15 years since I left the Royal Military. Now I’m a single, disillusioned, retired soldier-turned-reporter. Frustrated, under-paid and over-censored, I am ready for a new chapter in my life. For so long, I’ve been fighting for the truth and working to make a difference in a city that doesn’t really seem to care. But I can’t give up now. One day, these words will be read by someone who dares to believe the truth. That someone is you.

Will you open your eyes to look beyond this superficial facsimile of reality? Or will you too be destined to live in the illusion? If you’re the former, then keep reading. If you are the latter, I suggest you turn back now. The road ahead is rocky and filled with impossibilities. It certainly ain’t for the weak of heart.

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