The Tales of Sol 73 By Joe at3unit3@yahoo.com
This is a fictional story it is not intended to imply that any members of the Backstreet Boys, Nsync, or 98 Degrees are gay, or any of the other celebrities mentioned are homosexuals. If you are not old enough to read these stories do yourself a favor and don't get caught. The same goes for those people whose countries have these sites made illegal. And for everyone else enjoy
Captain Planet and related characters were created by R.E Turner and copyrighted by AOL Time Warner Company and Trademark by TBS Productions
Babylon 5 and all related characters and props were created by Michael Straczynski and copyrighted by Warner Bros.
Star Trek and all related characters created by Gene Roddenberry. Copyright Paramount
Transformers and all related characters, and props are trademarked by Hasbro Inc. Copyright Rhino Home Videos and AOL Time Warner Entertainment CO
He-Man, She-Ra, related characters, and props are trademarked by Filmation 1980s
Buffy, the Vampire Slayer, Angel, and all related characters created by Joss Whedon. Copyright 20th Century Fox.
Batman, and all related characters created by Bob Kane. Copyright DC Comics and Warner Bros.
X-MEN and all related characters were created by Stan Lee. Copyright Marvel Comics and 20th Century Fox.
To those who've been reading Tales of Sol. I want you to know that while there is sex in this story. That is not is sole purpose and yes I do hope the sex sense makes you all hard and gets you off.
Sol is an adaption from my childhood favorite show Captain Planet and the Planeteers, The cartoon showed us that the world can be a better place if we took a few moments to care for it.
Tales of Sol is meant to express hope.
It also shows how music can have an impact in our lives. While I don't know if my favorite bands 98 Degrees, Backstreet Boys, or Nsync have ever read this. They saw me through some of the hardest moments of my life and offered in their own way hope. To them, I say thank you.
I dedicate the Tales of Sol to all of my brothers and sisters of the US Armed Service past, present, and future.
I like to thank my friends whom I had the privilege of showing these chapters with. They helped with editing and inspiration,
John Rivera, Albert-Russ Alan Rivera-Odum, Derbe.D. Hunte Yvette Ortiz Samuel Diaz Jr for all their help in Making The Tales of Sol an enjoyable story to write.
And I have a few other names starting with the beginner of this universe.
James is the author of Tales of a Real Dark Knight. I still hope to reconnect with you dear friend and all the rest of this series.
Blake the author of Tales of a New Phoenix
Jeremi author of the Tales of Young Mutants
I am adding a few more remarks. I have entered into the 21st century of AI editing, I have been using various AI programs to help with grammar checks, clarity, and improvements to my story.
This story was edited with the help of GPT Workspace, Grammarly, Microsoft Copilot, and Quillbot AI software.
AI Use Disclosure: I used GPT Workspace to generate some text for my story, Grammarly to check my grammar and spelling, Microsoft Copilot to write some code snippets, and Quillbot to paraphrase some sentences. I verified the accuracy and originality of the AI-generated content and cited the sources that I used for reference.
References:
GPT Workspace. (2024, January 9). Version 1.0. [AI tool]. GPT Workspace Inc. https://gptworkspace.com/
Grammarly. (2024, January 9). Version 5.6. [AI tool]. Grammarly Inc. https://www.grammarly.com/
Microsoft Copilot. (2024, January 9). Version 2.3. [AI tool]. Microsoft Corporation. https://copilot.github.com/
Quillbot. (2024, January 9). Version 4.2. [AI tool]. Quillbot Inc. https://quillbot.com/
The Tales of Sol 73 Hawaii
I turned around in the morning and felt something poke me in the back. After feeling a very familiar item, I maneuvered it so it could poke in the right place. from the sound of sighing. The new position of that thing yielded extremely good consequences. My beloved exploited me once again while he was sleeping. Being sexual with Brian as he was fulfilling his goal at the moment was really sensuous. We were both breathing heavily as I gave it my all, experiencing my own sexual cravings. Brian closed his mouth and placed his tongue against my ear, immersing me in warmth and dampness.
"Mike" murmured, "I love you so much," in my ear. "I love you, Brian, now and forever," I grumbled back.
Our bed trembled with our fervent kissing. We rapidly attained our climaxes and breathed a sigh of sexual bliss. "Mike, I am not above fucking you in my sleep."
Of course, now that we were both awake, Brian was more than happy to carry out whatever dream he was experiencing while I let him fuck my ass.
Now he was genuinely fucking my ass, and we were enjoying every second of our lovemaking.
Coming down from our sexual euphoria, we simply lay in bed, massaging each other carefully, running our hands over each other's penises, and even pinching each other's nipples in soft and loving gestures as we savored the calm morning.
I let out a giggle and stated, "I certainly enjoy these sessions and will always be open to helping you live out your dreams."
Our tongues were lazily playing against one another as we gently stroked different bare body areas while keeping our lips together. All I could think of was how much I adored this man. I could feel the same sensation as the man slowly moved my balls in his fingers.
We haven't had many moments to ourselves like this. "Dave was right; I needed this." I exhaled, happy. This was a really nice way to begin my Hawaiian vacation.
Brian began to remark, "Mike, we both needed this after that business with that crazed wizard and our crazy tour schedule," but I interrupted him.
It wasn't time to chat about psychos with ego problems; it was time for us, and I shifted Brian's hand so he could gently insert his finger into my ass. Brian fingerfucked my ass, prompting me to groan quietly. Between gasps, I wrapped my arms around him, adding, "This moment is for us alone."
Brian took his finger out of my ass and stopped acting like we were having sex, simply to hug each other. I was more than satisfied; the warmth established between us was beyond pleasant.
We remained in that position for an extended period of time, the length of which is unknown.
We weren't even looking at the clock when we awoke at dawn to a tap on the door. We both sighed, annoyed. Getting out of bed, his lovely ass offered me something to gaze at other than the door. He spoke with irritation. Brian insisted, "Yes?"
"Guys, Howie and AJ want to visit Mount Kilauea," Nick's voice filtered through, muffled yet clear in intent. Nick, at least, sounded apologetic as he delivered the news.
Brian shot me a glare, not at me but at his bandmates's poor timing, shaking his head
Brian offered a hesitant confirmation, "Alright, Mike and I will join. Just give us some time to shower up."
My love turned back towards me and I got a full view of his naked body "Damn I want to stay here and see you walk around just like that," I pouted
Brian playfully grabbed his dick and stated, "I'd rather stick this back in your mouth, love,"
And he did, as he approached the bed and placed his hand on the back of my head, guiding his penis to my lips. I took Brian's push into my mouth, causing us both to groan. But we couldn't go on. Brian took his penis out of my mouth, and we both groaned in sadness.
Brian took the covers off of me and decided to have some fun instead of taking my hand. He placed his hand on my cock, sending shivers up my spine. "Come on, Mike, let's get a shower." Gently tugging on my erection, he encouraged me to get out of bed.
Following his example, I crawled out of bed, Brian's hand never leaving my dick. Once on my feet and using my dick, he dragged me to the bathroom, where he continued to hold on to me as we waited in the air-conditioned bathroom for the shower to heat up.
We took our time in the shower and applied body wash to each other, paying special attention to our dicks and asses. We shot cum several times while cleaning each other. I was loving sucking the water off Brian's nipples, and my boyfriend was not stopping me.
We were eager to see Kilauea, but we knew everyone else was, so we had to end our makeout sessions, but not before giving each other a blow job and finishing our shower.
After drying off and readying ourselves for the day's adventure, AJ's voice came again, louder this time, his impatience palpable. "Come on, Brian! Mike! Time to go!"
"Hold your horses!!" Brian called back, offering a final word as we dressed.
We then heard Kevin coming to our rescue: "AJ, leave them alone!"
Our delay drew us out enough to prompt an intervention from Kevin. "AJ, they'll be out when they're ready."
"But we said we'd go!" AJ protested, his voice growing distant as he resignedly walked away from our door.
"We said we'd go when they're ready, AJ," Kevin angrily countered
His comment faded as they retreated down the hall. "But at the rate they're going, we might miss our chance," AJ grumbled.
By then, his words had given way to the privacy of the hallway, leaving us to finish preparing for the day's adventure at our own pace.
The commotion beyond our door reached a comical peak, with Nick chiming in to advocate for our moment of peace. "Give them a break. They don't have these quiet moments often," he tried to mitigate the barrage of good-natured jeers. The three of them continued to argue.
Brian and I were laughing while trying to get dressed. They started making up silly insults that had nothing to do with anything at some point in their bickering, like "You are as slow as a snail!" or "You look like a pineapple!" or "You dance like a monkey!" Brian, of course, had to join in the fun, shouting things like "You are as dumb as a rock!" or "You smell like a skunk!" or "You sing like a dying cat!" Because we were laughing so hard, getting dressed was even more difficult.
I stayed out of the fray, though I could not keep a straight face. I had tears streaming down my face, especially when the noise they were making was loud enough to wake the dead, which became apparent when I heard Howie jumping on the bandwagon and making his own witty remarks.
When Brian and I were finally ready, we opened our door, emerging from our room, to find four guys with ugly mugs grinning back at us. "What is all this ruckus about anyway?" I asked.
grinning like the cat that ate the canary, AJ beamed with joy. "It is about time you two lovebirds decided to join us," AJ said without missing a beat.
Brian said, "If some guys had just let us sleep in, we would have been ready sooner." He then grumbled,
Brian retorted with a playful glare. "We'd have been out here sooner if someone hadn't turned the corridor into a zoo," he grumbled. Then, feigning annoyance, he questioned the day's plans: "So why are we trekking to a volcano again?"
AJ pointed a joking finger in my direction. "Blame your eloquent boyfriend here," he said. "Made the idea of Kilauea so intriguing last night that now I can't resist wanting to see it with my own eyes. Beats any guidebook description."
Suffice it to say, our day was set for an adventure filled with sights, sounds, and likely more banter with the Backstreet Boys, all thanks to the impromptu nighttime discussion that had piqued AJ's curiosity.
The way AJ seemed genuinely curious about Kilauea made me feel a sense of accomplishment. True, the prospect of spending the day wrapped up with Brian was still a tantalizing one. As Brian voiced our mutual longing to linger in bed a little longer, the room resonated with understanding.
"If we waited for that, you'd be back in Philly before we managed to step outside," Nick chimed in, his laughter underlining our group's dynamics.
Even amidst the jest, Kevin stepped in with a touch of earnestness. "We have to remember that it's their time," he reminded us all, offering a protective wing to our partnership.
Grateful for the sentiment, I bypassed the exchanges to pull Kevin into an embrace that held the weight and warmth of family bonds. "Thank you, Kev. Your support means the world," I said, heartfelt gratitude in my hold.
Kevin's reassurance was definitely family-oriented. "You're family, Mike," he replied, echoing my sentiment as we separated from the hug.
AJ, ever the energetic impetus, broke the short-lived tender moment. "Alright, enough of this mushy stuff; let's hit the road--daylight's wasting," he declared with good-natured urgency.
We were then met by Stacy Wilkins, part of our touring framework, stepping in for Tony Blake. "Guys, an expert guide will lead you through Kilauea. Tony okayed this because Mike's with you--he trusts your safety to him if anything unforeseen comes up," she explained with professional calm.
Feeling a mix of importance and jest, I quipped, "Feels great to be indispensable."
Stacy couldn't help but chuckle at the comment, though her tone turned sincere after. "Tony has complete faith in you to shield them from any danger."
Outside awaited a sleek conversion van, from which a young and strapping islander stepped forth. Introducing himself as Tag, he broke into a welcoming smile.
Howie's whispered observation reflected a hint of skepticism. "An expert guide, and he's what? Just 19?"
Regardless, Kevin led our introductions with respect. "Hello, Tag. I'm Kevin; this is AJ, Howie, Nick, Brian, and this is Michael Pennock, a dear friend of ours."
When Tag reached me, his handshake was firm. His curiosity struck a chord. "Are you also a singer?"
Suppressing a mischievous grin, I played along. "Only if I aim to incur the wrath of Pele," sparking a shared laughter.
Tag, understanding the jest, nodded. "Ah, so you know the legends of our land then?"
I offered a nod of recognition. "I've been to Hawaii before; my last visit was aboard the USS Carl Vinson in Pearl Harbor."
In recognition of my familiarity, Tag asked, "So, you know our customs?"
The depth of my understanding of the island's lore extended far beyond naval ports, but I kept it simple. "Let's say I'm pretty familiar with the local customs," I responded, eager to embark on the day's island adventures.
Tag's warm smile remained as he ushered us towards the van, guiding us into a comfortable configuration with Brian and I tucked in the back, Nick claiming the front passenger seat, and Kevin, AJ, and Howie settled into the middle, making sure Tag couldn't see what was happening in the back row. Our hands intertwined, and Brian and I stayed connected as Tag navigated the vehicle through Hawaii's diverse landscape.
The journey to Mount Kilauea was dotted with striking contrasts of verdant forests and the starkness of black lava rock. Along the way, Tag graciously shared stories and historical insights about the volcano, his voice tinged with the deep respect native Hawaiians hold for their land. He impressed upon us the might and the mystery of Pele, the sacred goddess of fire and volcanism, sharing how her domain was to be treated with the utmost honor.
Arriving at Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, Tag distributed helmets and gloves, carefully ensuring each of us understood how to wear them for our safety.
In a seamless motion, Tag passed out walkie-talkies. I slyly synced the communication frequency with my combadge during the act of donning my gloves. The discrete tap of a button linked the two, and I covertly inserted an earpiece, adjusting the radio's volume. With these precautions in place, any chatter any whisper from the Earth, would not evade my heightened vigilance.
Stepping out of the van to stretch, the sharp scent of sulfur filled our senses, a potent reminder of the volcanic activity that lay just beyond. Eyes turned in unison to Kilauea, the awe-inspiring landmark before us. As the sight filled our view, I allowed my mind to reach out to one of Earth's most dynamic elements, probing the emanations from the volcano with a subtle attunement.
The subtle tremor from the night before--now that Mount Kilauea lay before me, it was clear the disturbance had not originated from this volcano. A mental note was made, a promise to investigate the source, for the Earth's undercurrents spoke to those willing to listen, and I was her willing guardian, attuned to her every murmur.
As we observed the volcanic activity, the suspenseful dance of molten earth occasionally erupted into the sky. Volcanic bombs soared and burst, their fiery trajectories ending as they plunged back into the inferno from whence they came. It was a spectacle of nature's raw power, held at a safe distance, but I remained vigilant to any shifts.
Brian, sensing a shift in my focus, quietly reached out, "What's going on, Luv?"
"Nothing to worry about," I replied, my tone light but full of assurance. "I'm just dialing into our surroundings," I said, gesturing toward Kilauea's formidable presence.
Knowing the prudence of caution in such an unpredictable setting, Brian nodded and then questioned, "What are you picking up?"
The Earth's dialogue with me had become more than whispers--it was a symphony where I had learned to isolate every instrument. "We are currently standing next to a stable active volcano," I concluded.
Brian's eyes remained fixed on the volcano. "Having you here, attuned to this place--it's a good reminder to stay on our toes," he murmured, grateful for the added security my presence afforded.
Tag, our guide, distributed flashlights next and emphasized the importance of staying together. He led us down a trail peppered with stark signage that cautioned of the inherent perils. The destination was Halema'uma'u Crater, Kilauea's heart, which often housed a mesmerizing lava lake.
As we drew nearer, each sensory signal heightened--the oppressive warmth, the acrid bite of sulfur dioxide, and the saline trace of the sea. Peering down into the crater, we saw the liquid heart of the Earth in action: a vast, churning expanse of magma that danced with captivating intensity.
Nick's reaction was soft, almost a whisper of reverence: "This is incredible."
Tag nodded. "Truly. But remember not to venture too close." He imparted his wisdom, borne of respect and caution. "Lava is a capricious force. At times, eruptions can send debris skyward, or new fissures might suddenly yawn open. So watch your step."
Each of us absorbed the sight before us, deeply moved by the raw and unbridled spectacle of the planet's inner workings. In that moment, we were mere specks against a backdrop of enduring natural change, reminded of our place within a world far grander and more powerful than ourselves.
Tag's caution about the unpredictability of the volcano's activity was well-founded. Even with my heightened elemental senses, I knew that the languid yet volatile behavior of the lava below could shift at any moment. The notion of safety was an illusion here, much like the 'foul line' aboard the USS Carl Vinson--cross it, and you could find yourself in the path of an F-14 Tomcat. Here, the line between solid footing and seething geothermal danger was equally narrow and distinctly more perilous.
As we continued our exploration, Tag regaled us with the mythos of Pele and Numaka, the goddesses said to have crafted the islands we tread upon. Their tale, rich in cultural heritage, lent us a mystical lens through which to view our surroundings. Brian's receptiveness to these stories warmed my heart, showing his willingness to embrace beliefs beyond his own.
Navigating Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, we encountered occasional tremors--gentle reminders of the volatile power beneath our feet. Amidst this, I stayed watchful, my readiness an invisible shield around us.
It was during one of these quakes that I foresaw the dire need for intervention. Tag was just a heartbeat away from crossing into the unknown when the earth quaked. Acting on instinct, I reached out, gripping his shoulder firmly and pulling him back to safety as the ground crumbled, revealing a 20-foot drop into a fiery chasm. As I drew him back, I could feel his heart hammering through our brief touch. The shock was evident in his eyes as he looked down, grappling with the close encounter.
"How in the world?" Tag stammered, the incredulity clear in his voice.
Kevin voiced his appreciation, understanding the gravity of my intervention. "This is why our tour manager had made Mike's present non-negotiable if we wanted to go on this guided tour. for this very reason," he said, his arm wrapped around my shoulders, expressing gratitude and relief.
Tag was visibly rattled, a testament to the unpredictability of the natural world--even for those well-versed. "I'm trained for this; I should've seen it coming," he muttered, still in disbelief.
Seeking to assuage his concerns, I assured him, "Until that tremor just now, there had been no warning. The ground was as secure as we could predict--no one's at fault here," I said in an attempt to soothe the tense atmosphere.
Our brush with danger served as a stark reminder: the pulse of the Earth is beyond human foresight and respect for her untamed landscape is not just wise--it's essential.
Tag swiftly turned the incident into a teachable moment, underscoring Mount Kilauea's capricious temperament--ever a reminder of the inherent need for constant vigilance in such a dynamic environment. We navigated carefully around the newly altered terrain caused by the minor slide, acutely aware of the landscape's shifting moods.
Feeling reassured by the steadiness beneath us once more, our tour resumed. We moved further away from the volcano, finding a spot deemed sufficiently safe for a brief intermission. It was the perfect photo opportunity, with the impressive vista of Kilauea providing a dramatic backdrop. With camaraderie and good humor, the Backstreet Boys took turns posing and kindly invited Tag to join in, capturing memories of brotherhood and adventure.
The session was uplifted by Tag's bright, beaming expression, seemingly mirroring the vibrant life of the island itself. This guy was a huge Backstreet Boys fan.
However, amidst the lighthearted activity, I couldn't ignore the sight of another tour group in the vicinity. An ominous sign followed: a sudden earthquake caused by the well-known volcano to move more magma out of its mouth, making it heavier and spilling over the mountainside. a volcanic bomb shot up into the air due to Kilauea's relentless activity. Instinctively, I muttered a concerned, "UH OH!"
Brian's attention snapped to me, his query quick and sharp. "Mike, what's wrong?"
I indicated the rumbling that was now making its way to us: "It's time to wrap this up, Brian. The situation's looking shaky," hinting at the imminent threat that loomed over the distant group.
Tag's recognition followed, dismay lacing his voice: "That's Shelley's group! She should never have taken those people that close to Kilauea!"
Firm in the gravity of the moment, I urged, "Tag, can you get us back to your van now?"
Without hesitation, he responded, his alarm matching mine, "Absolutely!"
The time for leisure had abruptly ended. "This trip ends here, and the Backstreet Boys are heading back," I stated, clear and authoritative. There was no room for discussion; safety was paramount. This, after all, was precisely why I was brought along on the tour--my presence wasn't just about protection. It was about preemptive action, about ensuring that a day's outing didn't turn into a disaster.
A silent consensus formed as we left the beautiful but dangerous grounds of Kilauea, returning to the sanctuary of the hotel. Understanding the urgency, we started our journey back. Everyone had a lot of pep in their steps as we made our way back into the van
I purposefully held myself back while watching the Backstreet Boys retreat to safety. I purposely took the wrong turn. I had to make a special call that no one but the Backstreet Boys could hear. Once Tag had the guys out of sight, I turned to see Kilauea continue to spout her wrath onto the land, confronting the volcano's fierce exhibition. Required someone more suited for the task. I said, "Guardian has no choice but to sit this one out too. Okay, my friend, this one has your name on it!
Amidst the tension and urgency, I had to act, making a calculated detour to buy myself the necessary time. The moment called for a bold intervention, and I was prepared to answer it. When it was clear the Backstreet Boys were safely on their way, I prepared for the necessary transformation.
A thin sheet of paper-thin volcanic material, a combination of fire and earth, shot out of Mount Kilauea, infusing itself with water vapors and flowing down towards me on the winds. All the elements of the Earth were combining; all that was missing was the heart. The ball of energy descended on me, infusing me with their power.
Through our union, I was lifted higher and higher into the air; I was transforming from ordinary Michael Pennock into Earth's Greatest Champion, Sol
Tag had been so preoccupied with getting everyone into his van that he had failed to realize someone was missing Tag's panic surged as he noticed my absence. "Where is your friend?" he exclaimed as he came to a stop. The potential repercussions of leaving a guest--especially one associated with the internationally renowned Backstreet Boys--were grave. His anxiety mounted as he frantically tried to spot me amidst the chaos.
But the transformation had been swift, and a bright flash, followed by a thunderous boom, confirmed my ascent. The declaration boomed across the landscape: "By the Powers Combined, I am Sol!"
Below, Howie watched the colors of dawn streak across the sky, his confidence unshaken. "Mike will be back with us soon enough," he informed Tag, his voice a steadying force.
"Leaving your friend to die would mean that I would have failed in my job!" Tag was very alarmed.
Howie wasn't concerned, "We will vouch for you, saying you were instructed by our bodyguard to get us to safety."
"But?" Tag gulped in fear
Howie warned, "If you do not get us out of here like Mike wanted, you will have more reasons to be concerned.
"But?" Tag tried to get a word in, but Howie cut him off, "We must put our trust in him, heed his counsel, and leave."
Tag's worry gave way to disbelief. "Are we really safe to leave? Will your friend make it?"
Trying to remain calm but failing, "Can this Sol really stand up to the goddess Pele?" Tag asked.
"Sol is more than a match for her," AJ stated confidently, "and he has the support of the entire planet."
Nick, hardly wavering, reinforced the group's trust in me. "Sol's got this. Mike will catch up."
Their eyes traced my journey as I combated the rages of Kilauea. I wielded the elements as an artist wields a brush--twisting tornadoes, erupting stones--an elemental symphony conducted to ensure safety for those trapped by Pele's anger.
Kevin couldn't keep the awe from his voice. "Incredible," he whispered, watching me work amidst the volcanic tumult.
Then, amidst the spectacle, Sol appeared to plummet from the heavens, eliciting gasps from the onlookers.
Tag's face was drained of color. "."At one point, they all witnessed Sol seemingly fall from the sky and strike the ground.
Tag feared, "I thought you said Sol could handle Kilauea! You were certain Sol could manage this!"
Amidst the uncertainty, Brian remained tranquil, his faith unbreakable. As the earth shifted and rose, he simply observed, knowing that Sol's fall was part of a grander scheme.
Sure enough, the large section of upheaval land--a portion of the very ground upon which the tour stood--manifested my protection. Brian's voice carried resolve. "Sol has everything under control."
In the face of nature's fury, trust and belief fused among the bandmates, strengthened by the display of my might in the guise of Sol. With their faith held steady, they waited for Sol's return, knowing that I would soon rejoin them, having succeeded once again as the guardian of Earth and the champion of their safety.
Sol watched with a hint of annoyance as the rampaging Kilauea suddenly stilled, the voracious lava flows ceasing as he safely deposited the tour group onto solid ground. "Oh, sure, now you decide to behave," after he carefully set down the ground with the tour standing on top. "I swear these gods and goddesses just do things just to get attention," Sol remarked
Tag, clad in relief and concern, scrambled to check on his colleague Stacy, who'd ventured too close to the volcano's wrath. "Shelley, are you alright? What were you doing getting so close to an active volcano? That was far too risky." His voice wavered with a mix of sternness and fear.
Before she could muster an answer, a man from the touring party intervened. "That was on me," he confessed, sheepishly presenting a candy wrapper. "It was my fault," a man on the tour said before the tour guide could respond. Tag wondered what he meant.
The man said, "Ms. Susan was telling us about how we should not offend your goddess Pele," and he held up a Snickers wrapper. "Well, I was sort of littering," the man admitted, embarrassed as everyone except Sol glared at him for his carelessness. "I didn't think it would be so literal," he said, trying to defend himself."
As the group directed frustrated stares at the man's inconsideration, Sol remained calm, neither condoning nor condemning the mishap. "Littering is definitely not on the volcano visit checklist, but acknowledging the mistake is a good step. Let's not attribute a full volcanic response to it, though," Sol commented objectively.
Tag quickly came to the man's defense, connecting the geological occurrences to natural events rather than any perceived offense. "Pele has her ways, but a Snickers wrapper isn't likely to summon her ire. We've had tremors all week, and the volcanic bombs are part of Kilauea's routine activity. They're unpredictable once airborne," Tag reassured the group, trying to allay their guilt and fear.
His concern then sharpened as he turned back to Shelley. "We're supposed to stay clear of danger zones for a reason," he said with emphasis, his worry for his colleague's safety overriding any anger.
Shelley's attempt to justify their proximity: "We were on the trail, and I didn't--"
But Tag's reprimand was cut off mid-thought by a sudden realization. "Wait--Oh! Shit! Mike's still out there! We need to ensure he's safe." Panic began to take hold as he remembered my presence, prompting them to look around hurriedly for any signs of me.
From the backdrop of smoky woodlands, Coughing could be heard "I knew I should have taken a left at Albuquerque," Mike coughed as he emerged from the woods with a staged, light-hearted complaint. "And here I was thinking cartoon navigation was reliable," feigning the aftermath of a slightly comedic misadventure.
The group, taken aback by my non-heroic entrance, found themselves caught somewhere between relief and confusion. Everyone except the Backstreet Boys, who were accustomed to my antics, looked puzzled to see Mike--just Mike--instead of Sol unraveling from a heroic encounter.
"Mr. Pennock, how in the world...?" Tag's question trailed off, unable to fathom the sight.
Brushing volcanic ash from my person, Brian hurried over, brushing more soot out of my closely cropped blonde hair, concerned about the underpinnings of his swift actions. "Are you alright, Mike?" his voice was laced with worry.
"Don't worry, I'm perfectly fine," I reassured him with a slight cough, subtly perpetuating the ruse of my stumbly excursion. "I was just trying to keep up when a wrong turn led to a little run-in with a tree."
My explanation was tinged with humor. "Sol thankfully plucked me from my fiasco, much like a wayward bird bewildered by the volcano's threat."
"I think we get the picture," Brian interjected. Understanding that the ruse needed no further elaboration, Brian cut me off. "The most important thing is that you're safe," he said, accepting the narrative for the sake of the concerned onlookers.
With Kilauea's temper settled for now, we returned to the park, resuming our educational journey around the base of the volcano. This time around, the tour was seamlessly insightful and free from unforeseen drama.
Through the day's events, Brian's pride visibly swelled, his joy uncontained as he walked alongside someone who was both his dearest and a bona fide superhero. Indeed, there's a unique joy in loving someone who surprises you, in being close to a person who brings a touch of the extraordinary into your everyday life. And as the day unfolded into a series of postcard-perfect memories, it wasn't Sol's heroics that were the highlight--it was the simple yet profound pleasure of shared experiences at one of nature's grand spectacles.
To be continued
And this is where I end this chapter. Hawaii is going to be more than just a fun and excitement of tropical paradise. Guardian is going to find out that there is no such thing as a day off when it comes to protecting the Backstreet Boys and the Planet.
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I also recommend the following stories it was because of them I got into writing in the first place.
"Tales of a Real Dark Knight" by authorjames
"Marvel Knights" also by authorjames
"Tales of the New Phoenix" by Blake
"Tales of a Superhero Band" by Leo
"Tales of a Young Mutant" by Jeremi
"Tales of a Thunder God" by Tony Justiss