The Tales of Sol 77B 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 77B
Aftermath of Mauna Loa Wrath Continued
In the hushed predawn hours, the ringing of the courtesy phone stirred me from sleep. Brian lay beside me, unperturbed by the sound, lost in a deep and peaceful slumber. Wanting to preserve his rest, I swiftly answered the call, keeping my voice low.
On the line, the news I'd been anticipating: Dave had come through, ensuring that my new debit and credit cards had been delivered posthaste and were now awaiting collection at the front desk. With careful effort, I disentangled myself from Brian's death grip --a testament to his affection even in the depths of sleep--and padded down to the lobby.
Once there, I approached the night shift receptionist with an inquiry that extended beyond my own needs, "By any chance, have any of the Backstreet Boys dropped by to leave something here?" My query hung in the air, part of the continual effort to tie up the loose ends left by the day's earlier turmoil.
Upon arrival at the reception, curiosity prompted an additional query--had any member of the Backstreet Boys' crew swung by to leave essentials for the day? The receptionist confirmed, informing me that they were expected to venture to the studio once risen from their night's rest.
Grateful for the receptionist's assistance, I made my way back to our temporary haven. The new cards in my hand were a reassuring reminder that life would eventually settle into familiar rhythms once more. But first, there was much to address, and for that, I needed to speak with Kevin, whose guidance was crucial in times like these.
With a newfound sense of purpose amidst the remnants of upheaval, I approached Kevin's door. My knocks were firm yet considerate of the early hour, announcing my presence and our need to convene, to strategize the path forward through the day that awaited us.
Answering the door, Kevin appeared a vision of sleep-ruffled allure, (he was still in his boxers, after all)-- a rare, unguarded moment that reminded me just how charming he could be, even when sleep-deprived. Had he been more alert, I was certain he would have opted for a more presentable appearance.
Rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn, Kevin's voice was heavy with sleep as he greeted me. "Mike? What's up? Why are you knocking on my door at this hour?"
"I didn't mean to wake you so early," I apologized, my tone hushed to keep from disturbing AJ. "But there's a message for you down at the main desk. Thought you should know."
Interest piqued ever so slightly, he inquired, "What's the message about?"
"It's from the studio," I explained. "They want you there as soon as possible, that is as soon as everyone wakes up."
Kevin processed this new task, stepping out a little more into the hallway. "Is there anything else?" he asked, his mind already shifting gears toward the day's responsibilities.
"Just my new bank cards," I assured him. "That's all the news I had. Your message was the priority." I held up the cards momentarily, then let them drop to my side, a minor detail in the grand scheme of things.
Kevin turned to walk down to the elevator, as much seeing my hot cousin waltzing around in his boxer might appeal to the rest of the occupants "Eh Kev you might want to change first," I point to his clad state
My cousin became beet red as he quickly changed tactics and briefly returned to his room shutting the door behind him, when it reopened, my cousin was not nearly as half-naked as he had been when he first answered the door. Much to the relief or disappointment of the rest of the hotel. In any case, Kevin told me to hang tight while he went to check with the front desk,
After only a few moments, Kevin stepped back off the elevator and walked down the hall. "OK, that makes sense now, but you were correct; the company wants us to report to the studio, where everything will be worked out."
I couldn't help but chuckle as Kevin, still groggy and oblivious to his state of undress, began to stride towards the elevator. "Um, Kev," I piped up, pointing out the obvious, "you might want to throw on some clothes first."
At my words, a sudden rush of embarrassment flushed across his face, turning it a shade of red that would've been comical if not for his evident mortification. With a hasty about-face, Kevin retreated to his room, the door closing firmly behind him. Moments later, he reemerged, this time properly clothed and far less unintentionally revealing, ready to interact with the world beyond his doorway.
Kevin's potential wardrobe mishap was narrowly averted, sparing both him and me the possibility of him becoming unexpected tabloid fodder. Thankfully, he managed to avoid giving the other hotel guests a morning story to tell. With a promise to quickly check the message at the front desk, he left me waiting in the hallway, returning before long to relay the label's instructions to head to the studio. The day was to be productive, free from any unintended gossip-column distractions.
Kevin returned promptly with a stride that bore a newfound purpose. "Alright, your heads-up was spot-on," he confirmed as he approached down the hallway. "The label does indeed want us at the studio. They're setting up to iron out everything there." His tone mixed acknowledgment of my warning with a readiness to tackle the tasks that awaited them.
Kevin and I returned to our rooms quickly; we still had several hours to go, so we both crawled back into our beds. With a happy sigh, I let Brian apply his death grip on me as I fell asleep in my lover's arms.
Enveloped by Brian's arms, a sense of serenity washed over me as he drew me into an embrace that was both steadfast and gentle. In the safety of his hold, the worries of the day receded--matters to be addressed with the new dawn. For the time being, wrapped in the circle of Brian's arms, there was only this refuge of affection. As I nestled closer, the world faded away, and I eased into sleep once more, cradled and adored, secure in the knowledge that I was exactly where I belonged.
The morning light revealed the true extent of the arena's transformation. No longer a venue for entertainment, it stood as a testimony to Mauna Loa's might. With the damage around us bearing silent witness to the previous day's fears and flights, we gathered amidst fallen beams and fractured concrete, collectively partaking in the hotel's offering of sustenance and solace.
Amidst the backdrop of destruction, the studio had risen to the occasion, becoming a sanctuary for everyone touched by the eruption's upheaval -- the artists and their entourage, the vital crew members, and myself.
It was Stacey who cut through the assembled quietude, addressing us once everyone was present and accounted for. A hush fell over the group as her eyes methodically scanned the faces before her -- a mosaic of those bound by recent adversity. "I think I speak for everyone when I say that our gratitude for being safe, for surviving this, is profound," she began, her leadership evident as she voiced the collective relief palpable in the air. Her words wavered ever so slightly, a small sign of the human element that no disaster could completely erase.
AJ's arm came to rest comfortably around my shoulders, a gesture of camaraderie and gratitude. "We owe our lives to Sol, Earth's Greatest Champion," he declared, an earnest look in his eyes as he glanced my way. "Thanks to him, we're all here and able to carry on with our lives, our music, our performances."
His smile was a nudge to our shared secret, an acknowledgment meant just for me. Under the weight of his appreciation, I had to maintain the charade. Sol's identity remained a secret to most, known only to a trusted few within our circle -- the Backstreet Boys, Tony Blake, Frank, and a select number from our team. It was a delicate balance, the duality of my existence, where Sol ended, and Mike began -- or was it the other way around?
The room fell into a respectful silence as the clapping subsided, signaling for Stacey to speak once more. She prepared the crowd for a somber turn with her words, "However, here's the bad news: Due to the damage done not only to this arena but also to the rest of Hilo, management has decided..."
In a moment of conviction, I couldn't let the sentence end so dismally. Interrupting, I proclaimed, "The show must go on." The air crackled with surprise at the interruption, everyone turning to look at me. "Right now, there are people out there coping with loss on a scale many of us can't even begin to comprehend. Some were spared from Mauna Loa's wrath because of Sol, but others weren't as fortunate. The people of this island need hope, a reason to smile, and the Backstreet Boys are the ones who can uplift them," I asserted, locking eyes with each member of our group, willing them to embrace the role they could play in the healing process.
The air shifted as Stacey raised her hand, a soft interruption to the charged atmosphere. "Your enthusiasm is admirable, Mike," she began, her voice a blend of appreciation and realism, "but the logistics are more complex than a simple decision to perform."
My resolve, however, refused to waver. "Then let's take our performance elsewhere--a street, a park, the beach," the idea resonated within me. "Let's show the people we stand with them, offering a momentary escape, a reason to hold on to hope."
Stacey paused, considering the proposal. "Organizing an event of that scale, on such short notice--"
But the momentum was already building. "Imagine it, Stacey--a free concert, a gift to the city of Hilo. It could well be the most unforgettable performance of our careers," I pressed on, my enthusiasm reigniting the possibility. Sol may save lives, but in this moment, the Backstreet Boys had the power to rejuvenate hope and strength within the hearts of those who had lost so much.
"What do you think, guys?" I turned to face the Backstreet Boys and asked.
They looked at each other, then at me, and finally at the audience. They all nodded at the same time. "Let us go," they agreed. The audience applauded and clapped. Stacey smiled and nodded. "All right then. Let us get this done. The power is yours!" she exclaimed, echoing Sol's catchphrase. We all laughed and hugged each other.
Stacy was still skeptical, but she decided, "Let me call management and see what they say. In the meantime, I was supposed to give you guys new debit cards to replace the ones lost when your hotel was destroyed." Stacy handed out their new card, which they gladly accepted. "Now, why don't you guys go out and enjoy Hawaii? We will not be able to do much until we hear from Johnny Wright."
Stacey's realism was evident as she tempered our enthusiasm with her structured game plan. "I'll get in touch with the management and see what they suggest," she said, her decisiveness shining through. "And in the meantime," she continued, presenting us with replacement debit cards provided by the studio, "use these for any needs you might have."
The group's sense of relief was palpable as they accepted the cards. "Take some time to enjoy the island. We'll wait for further instructions from Johnny Wright," she advised, a subtle nod to the respite we all desperately needed.
The day's agenda was laid out clear--while the talking heads and strategists plotted our next move, we were free to explore. The Backstreet Boys clustered together, ready to venture into the subdued splendor of Hawaii.
Our first foray was towards the slopes of Mauna Loa, now a stark contrast to the once vibrant forests that blanketed its sides. Hardened lava flows stood testament to the recent upheaval, turning what once was lush into a stark, desolate expanse.
Nick, surveying the transformed terrain, found solace in hindsight. "Imagine if we hadn't rerouted that lava--Hilo would've faced the same fate," he said, his voice carrying a mix of awe and gratitude.
I viewed the new landscape with a different lens. "Nature has her mechanisms; she's always rejuvenating," I mused aloud. "Sure, the greenery is gone for now, but it won't be long before life finds a way back here. Forests thrive on renewal, after all. It's about making the most of disruptions, and this fresh lava? It's ripe with nutrients that'll fuel the next generation of growth here," I reflected, optimistic about the eventual rebirth of this natural canvas.
Brian surveyed the changed landscape, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I get what you're saying about Nature, love, but it's still a shock to the system," he admitted. Pausing, he let out a sigh. "You weren't even meant to be part of this tour initially, and yet here you are. And here we are, facing this... it really puts things into perspective, doesn't it?" He seemed to be processing the sight before him, searching for context amidst the remnants of upheaval.
At that moment, a tiny butterfly fluttered gracefully onto my outstretched hand, a delicate emblem of Nature's tenacity. "Don't dwell on what might have been, just focus on this moment," I suggested softly, the butterfly's wings a gentle reminder.
Kevin's attention was captured by the colorful visitor in my palm. "That butterfly," he started to say, wonder lacing his tone.
Before he could finish, I interjected, infusing my words with a note of wonder and wisdom. "This little creature is proof of life's incredible ability to persevere," I said, watching the butterfly poise lightly on my finger, embodying nature's indomitable spirit.
With the butterfly still perched on my finger, I spoke with a sense of reverent understanding. "And before anyone asks--as I explained to AJ--Earth truly nurtures all her charges. Even before Mauna Loa erupted, the wildlife had already begun to migrate to safer grounds. They'll return in time, alongside the trees and flowers." I paused, letting the weight of my words settle. "The delicate balance here is maintained, even in the aftermath of such events."
AJ, though, was visibly agitated, a furrowed brow as he gestured towards the stark landscape. "Mike, it's not even about this," his hands swept across the view of destruction. "You warned La'Tola--well, the ex-Director now--and if you hadn't been here, this," he waved again, encompassing the lava fields, "could have been downtown Hilo. Sure, as you say, the ecosystem would've eventually healed, but what about all the lives that would've been lost? Nature regrows, but those people," AJ shook his head, "that neglect could've cost everything." His words echoed the gravity of what had been narrowly averted--thanks to a warning heeded just in time.
My smile was an attempt to lighten the mood, but Howie's usually warm complexion was noticeably paler. "Looking at all this," he gestured towards the unforgiving expanse before us, "it's bewildering to think that people like La'Tola would hesitate to act. I understand you showing us the cycle of rebirth, but it's incomprehensible to us how such a risk could be taken with so many lives when the writing was on the wall."
I sensed the deep-seated concerns behind their expressions, the lingering questions that marred their understanding of paradise. "You all marveled at Hawaii as an exotic paradise, but did you ever consider that this volcanic island might change? That it wouldn't always remain as you know it?" I posed, my tone gentle, prompting introspection.
Their silence spoke volumes as they processed the reality. "It's not about living in fear of the island," I continued, nodding at the butterfly still resting on my finger. "This little one, all the creatures who call this island home--they don't live in dread of the volcano."
Nick's words cut through the silence, his tone a mixture of awe and introspection. "Mike, it's not merely this stark landscape that's gotten to me. It's you -- Guardian, Sol, our planet's defender. Even from a distance, we experienced the magnitude of the volcano's might, how effortlessly it claimed our hotel," he said, his voice tapering into a reflective pause. "And then there's you," he continued, his gaze steady, "how you shielded us from that imminent peril and didn't hesitate to return for those still in danger."
He struggled for a moment, grappling with the enormity of recent events. "I can't imagine what would've happened if Sol hadn't been there. He saved us while we were busy trying to protect Hilo. It's clear as day that we owe our lives to the hero you are when you put on that mantle," Nick's acknowledgment rang with sincere gratitude and a touch of wonder.
A contemplative hush settled over us, each person lost in thought. We turned our backs on the lava-scarred vista, leaving it in nature's capable hands. As we moved away, the band's newfound understanding of the world -- its vulnerabilities, its cycles, and the powers that strive to safeguard it -- was tangible. Sol's actions had sparked a profound awareness that would resonate long after our footsteps faded from the volcanic soils of Hawaii.
Once our excursion to Mauna Loa's site concluded, the collective mood shifted towards a lighter agenda. It was unanimously agreed--it was time to infuse our day with a bit of levity and normalcy. The arena's chaotic abandonment had left us all a little lighter on personal effects, so shopping became our immediate venture.
We teamed up in pairs to peruse the stores; Kevin, AJ, and Howie set off together, their collaboration likely as efficient as it was amusing, while Nick and Brian ventured off down a path of their own.
Rob and I opted for a relaxed pace, choosing to meander along the bustling boulevard, allowing the atmosphere of the busy streets to restore a bit of ordinariness to our lives.
We proposed a rendezvous point--returning to the hotel--ensuring we'd all gather after our respective shopping escapades to continue the day's adventure at the beach, grounding ourselves once more through the sun, sea, and sand.
To be continued
This saga around Hawaii and Mauna Launa was extended with the aid of AI technology, that helped enhance several areas. But it didn't change the content I hope everyone is enjoying this story as much I am writing it.
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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