Thursday
14:20
SDN Claremont
James looked at his monitor flickered, and suddenly, re-established link. Still glitching out. None of them were tracked, not where they'd gone.
"Team? Team, whatever you did, carnival's coming down.....I don't know how you did that, but nice work." He called into the blind, not sure at all if he'd get them back. He'd lost comms for at least the last few minutes, and had no idea what had happened there.
There was a little euphoria, which was quickly killed when Kat looked up.
"Holy shit. They did it." She was still shocked, which even by her standards, was saying quite a lot. Not a lot shocked her. A group of clowns, doing this? Well, in any case, it got messy after this. The other employees looking up were all in shock, and well, relieved too that relatives, friends, children were coming back down.
Kat was a little more matter of fact.
"This goes way over our paygrades. Debrief is gonna be a bitch. Lotta three letter agencies are going to call." Kat broke the tension, whoever else was in the office also craning their heads up. Phones, anything, capturing the carnival slowly, surely coming down from the sky. The brown-haired Director looked at him, sighing, James without reply.
"You're worried about her." She just went point blank, as he stared back, and lacking the courage of a hero, or perhaps the powers of one, couldn't make the words at first.
Of course he was.
"Family's all you've got, isn't it. It's your strength and your weakness. Careful, James. Remember what's involved." Kat added, as James sighed.
"Of course it is. But I'm worried about the rest. Blackstar. Asteroid. Eclipse. Madcap. They're good heroes." He didn't make much of a noise, before moving away from the window, seeing his phone buzz.
"I need to get that." The dispatcher ran across, seeing Valerie's name crop up. A suitable distraction.
Probably best not to miss that call. His heroes would come back on screen soon, and they'd all regroup, and head back to office once the carnival was back to earth.
Thursday
14:21
Gaggles Carnival
Lightning Girl kept on producing power to the point she thought she found, but like all things, it ran dry. Nowhere near enough. Asteroid had closed distance, Hat Trick had tried to get in close, but none of them had. It felt like chasing a shadow.
And there was Madcap, where metaphorically, the smoke cleared.
Sophie dropped slowly, landing to the ground of the carnival, hearing the balloons deflate, the ground moving as other heroes were present to carry this place up. Other heroes that could stomach the weight of holding a now quickly falling. Other branches had resources, and any flying hero that could carry the weight and keep it from hurtling to earth was on a dispatch to save lives. Eclipse was missing, that was worrying, but she trusted he could hold his own with his blades. There were a lot less clowns than what she remembered seeing. That was for sure.
Not those of the clowns, and well, not those of Gaggles, as she realised her bolt hadn't hit into the smoke into target. But Madcap had finished the job. Ended this.
She looked at the body of Gaggles, then Madcap. And put her hands on her knees, exhaling hard, looking back at him again, the others, and nodding, having little in the way to add. She turned her head towards the Helter Skelter, then back.
She wanted to say something. Something moralistic. Something that she knew was a lie. All of this was. Sophie didn't blame Madcap for it. She'd watched her own self do the same to Xylotam on Monday in front of Hat Trick when he tried to talk him down. He did what he had to to stop the threat. Arresting would be ideal, but alas, instead, a lifeless scumbag was what they had.
It wasn't justice, but it was bringing calm to order. She couldn't argue without being a hypocrite. She knew that deep down, so instead, had no words, aside from her solitary confirming nod.
This was over. This was done. Finished. And they were all spent.
First.
Civies. Best to tell them this was over. The words hadn't left her to tell the team, normally, she'd have them, but they just didn't. Not anymore. Nothing seemed to make any sense. It all flashed too fast.
And walking across, she hobbled now, power fully having left her. She trundled her feet one after another on the the dusty boulevard of stalls, and came finally to that big helter skelter where families, teens, kids, all sat, terrified.
And they looked at her with fear as she pushed aside the canvas, wincing back, one of them holding a club forwards.
"We're coming down safe now. Sit tight. We'll get you home." Sophie uttered with her usual flowery northern British accent, leaning against the canvas of the helter skelter, coughing up blood and quickly turning her head to the outside of the canvas to half-puke it out.
Why were they....
Ah. Yeah. She was missing her cowl and her face and suit were covered in blood, and now, sick, when she poked her head through canvas. The wound had turned half her side and her cape into a dirty, brown-red stain of not what blood looked like in the movies, but what it did when it reacted with dust and grime, coupled to her regenerative ability. Right.
So she backed away on that note, before dropping down off her feet and leaning hard against the material and blood she'd coughed up, her vision giving a haze, on the outside.
Her body catching up on a debt that she was now going to pay.
The static of radio started to come back in, as Sophie checked her wrist-mounted watch, all vitals not looking too great. Electricity was particularly low in her stream. It would come back. It always did. Just that it had to pay off her choices.
"Dispatch, carnival is secure. A-Team's on fumes, civies safe, I think there's people holding us up. We need medical, urgently...." She uttered, holding tight against her side, not really caring if anyone ran over. Not wanting to know. Not wanting to be seen.
No idea where Eclipse was. She hurt too much to think about it. He could look after himself, she was sure of that. Blackstar, she was.... probably in need of a hug. But not now. Hat Trick, he was going strong, his ice was back, and the man was a mountain. It'd take a lot more than all of this to kill him. Asteroid, well, he was hurt too. But what could she do for him?
What could she do for anyone. Feeling sorry for herself was all she had, even though she was trying to push that feeling down and be useful.
Strange what being without a mask did. But a stab wound did much worse, as she sat there, by the entry, and seemed almost motionless, left hand on knee, pulled in tight, as she looked at all the bodies before her, wincing every time the electricity in her heart pulsed, trying to stitch together a deep knife wound.
A memory flooded in.
Three Years Ago
23:18
London, United Kingdom
The night sky fizzled with colour, activity, and more importantly, the lights of the heart of London.
Sitting there, she hadn't gone back to base. Night shift teamer in London? Well, this was an opportunity not to be missed, rather than sitting in the offices in Southwark.
No, rather sitting on the side of the Walkie Talkie's (otherwise known as The Fenchurch Building) roof, feet dangling over the edge, she clicked her hands and arms together, hands out stretching, thinking she was right where she wanted to be. 38 storeys high and in the glass-framed skyscraper core of London's core.
Looking on at it all. Facing Canary Wharf, the cranes and towers of the skyscrapers there with a small gap inbetween of smaller blocks, and in the far distance, London City Airport, and beyond that, Hackney, and the Dartford Crossing and all the grim industry of east London. But north of that, Stratford and the London Stadium, visible perfect from her little vantage point. London from this height was great. Few big, big tower blocks, and the city of 10 million basically bent to her view from this place. And all the skyscrapers on the other side. A hell of a place. And in a city like this, with data centres, transformers, there was so much power to take, harness, use, it felt like she could hum happily on anything and everything it had to give.
Her white cape billowed, her carbon-black mask sat tight against her face, her boots tapping against the glass, humming along to Bastille. The office workers were all but gone, but the lights in their offices were still on. She tuned out to that. This was the high life. The autumnal cold didn't even phase her, and while she was getting used to this a lot faster than she would have liked, every now and then, she pinched herself to realise she was finally here. It wasn't America, no, not the mythic land where SDN really was kicking ass, but SDN London was still a high brow place to be.
She put her hands out and then to her side, and looked out. Thinking about it all. James had long since gone home. They had a flat share in Maida Vale, and the perk of working central London was that she got to take an extremely short commute into work. He was somewhere behind her, in that glowing yellow mess of the west of the city, near Paddington. She'd have to try and be quiet coming in- even if the Velux window meant she could usually sneak home without taking the front door, being out this late wasn't even something of her forte.
She looked on at the reflections of a night city, the honking of horns every now and then, and down past her feet. Learning to fly really kicked the shit out of learning to drive. And when it came together, it felt magical.
Her mind was taken away as her headset sprung to life, and Dispatch had a job.
"Lightning Girl, we've got a report of a stolen violin, suspect is headed towards Piccadilly Circus. Dressed in a black leather jacket, carrying a violin case. Need you on it. Suspect looks like they're headed for the underground......violin is a near priceless artefact.."
"Yeah, on it, dispatch. Talk me through the maze when I'm there." And with a graceful push on the edge of the building, and a push out of static, she fell.
And the static built and built, and suddenly, erupted.
From the back of St Paul's Cathedral, and into the sky of skyscrapers around it, Lightning Girl was in flight, and well, blazing through the City of London.
The very heart of London, skyscrapers, red buses, noise, even at 11:20pm at night.
And through the fine late night dew, the City of London's various financial buildings reflected off her white suit, as she did in their glass, turning hard at the Gherkin, named because it was a giant glass skyscraper shaped like one, the classic, iconic skyline of it all on the horizon, the Tower of London and Tower Bridge behind, in front, the London Eye, and to her left, the pointy, towering Shard. Flying past a glass skyscraper, she caught a glimmer of her reflection.
The red hair had gone completely about six months ago. A blue tinge was put into the lower locks, to give her some colour at least, and she was pale white now. A changed character entirely. Gone was any trace that Sophie used to recognise, her growth spurt had stopped a few years ago, and at this point, she realised whatever was in that comet had probably started to taper off. The urge calmed down, but it fed on what she threw at it. Power led onto power.
But enough rubbernecking. Lightning Girl had places to be. And while she wasn't skilled on The Knowledge that cab drivers used to memorise every single road, every landmark, nor every in and out of a city that felt as far away as New York did to her given her origins in Manchester, but she could cut a lot of that out because she didn't navigate by roads. Just skyline. Flying over busy streets where thousands were out revelling, there was one job at hand that she had. Covent Garden and Leicester Square, with all its theatres, the Houses of Parliament further down the river, it was truly, a spectacle for anyone that could have dreamed what success was, but not for her attention right now. All the Georgian and Edwardian architecture was beautiful, mixed in with the more modern glass-fronted buildings. She wondered why she was even thinking about America. Wasn't this enough?
But there, after no time at all, it was. Piccadilly Circus. In all its glory, digital displays on, a big fountain and no end of London Black Cabs and activity into the night. Lightning Girl found her landing spot and made a note not to accidentally blast civies away from her like she had when starting out, picking an isolated spot and just dropping in, elegantly. Without throwing anyone out of the way, she dove in like a bird of prey, and pulled herself feet first at the last second, already spotting her point to land, pushing hard into feet and hands.
Slamming down, she caught quite the eye of drunk revellers and tourists at nearly midnight, but she wasn't here on a social call, gently patting the ground rather than punching it and into concrete, leaving a mark. She was here to stop a priceless violin being taken. Another easy call for tonight. Apart from separating a fight, going to a networking evening as a guest speaker, well, it made sense to be on this sort of job. The comms in her ear provided an update, the dispatcher realising she was here now, and in position.
"Suspect's running towards Bakerloo, Met Police presence is also in the area." The voice in her ear called, the handler nervy, acutely aware of just the value of what was at stake. Holy shit, how did violins cost that much?
"Yeah, yeah, on it." She called back, not much time being spent as a couple of the crowd took a picture of her in blur, but running down stairs at the Underground Station opposite the displays, she was virtually skipping each bank of the steps, using her static to abate the fall and charge through.
Running through corridors, her cape fluttered behind her, as she saw police chasing after the man with the violin, and was already faster. Without kevlar on, and with a metabolism like hers, of course she was now outrunning police officers in pursuit. Of course she was. Even at the nature of what she had, she'd been drinking hard on power tonight, and well, that meant she had plenty of give. Her lungs were hurting, but she was not stopping now, especially since the police looked to have lost line of sight on the perp.
She knew where to go. She knew tube lines now, after a few years of living here. Maybe not above ground, but going through the subways, the tiles and lit up maze of London was one that the white-caped heroine could run around as versatile as she could the bits above ground. A crowd of people stopped and stared at her, and the ticket inspectors even seemed a little confused as to why she would be taking a train.
Lightning Girl didn't really have time to explain to any of the high-vis wearing TFL staff what she was doing, not when the price was as eye-watering as it was. The police were talking to them to let them through, and one by one, moving in, the sight of police not slowing Lightning Girl down. She knew they were going to help and deal with this after, but she was faster. Quicker. More reactive. And more importantly, going to make sure the thief didn't run.
And straight up high-jumping a ticket barrier using a hard leap with a little electricity to propel her over, coiling into a tight roll and leaping back to feet, as she kept on charging, literally and metaphorically, the escalator the number one place she could cut a corner next.
Escalators on the London Underground were enormous, massive things. They headed into the depths of the Earth, and many a fool had tried to rush down them and got very hurt.
And with what would be a stupid move for most, she threw herself down the metal banking to the side and skidded, hurtling past people, giving a wry "Sorry!" and "Excuse me!" with her hand at back to hold her from skidding down the metal slide like a ragdoll on the super-smooth metal. She skidded by advertisements and a constant queue of people, cape billowing behind, white and light-grey suit lit up by the bright, bright lights.
Her skidding down the elevator side was made more impressive by the fact it was almost 40 foot of it, at a sheer angle, and most of the time, people impaled their crotch on an plastic advertising hoarding before they got to the bottom that was situated in the middle of the metal slipway, or just yeeted at mach-christ out into members of the public at the bottom, usually while drunk. Lightning Girl was neither, she had it as a party trick, before leaping off at the end, coiled roll, eloquent as ever.
Not her first rodeo, as she clattered with her intensity against tiled floor, running towards Bakerloo southbound, seeing the man in question, with a rather large violin case. That had to be him. Had to be. She was after him, and already, realising he had a train to catch.
He looked behind and looked at the board, pushing through a crowd, adjusting his hat, hoping to fuck she'd not notice. Not in this crowd. This wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want any of this. But he had no choice. Made the wrong deals with the wrong people. And had nothing left to lose. Hoped it would go smoother, but one run in with a security guard and fucking....SDN were on his heels? Shit, where was that train, he could try and dodge her there, maybe go north, not south, find a way out and keep moving, through the crowd, knowing she'd lose sight and not figure out.....But Lightning Girl did. And she wasn't going to electrocute people shoving past the last night crowd, so she took a different route around. The corridor to the side, running around people coming off the train from the other Northbound platform, before slowing, turning, and seeing him, cutting across between the two pillars.
And she emerged from the hollow as he came to the end of the platform where he tried to tuck in, pushing him over as he ran into her with a hard bolt that sent him almost five meters back, watching as he scrambled on the floor, trying to stand up and put distance between them and her. But there was no way it would work. Not with the crowd behind that were confused. Lightning Girl put a hand out and yelled.
"Put the violin down, carefully....NOW!" She yelled, the power building, as she knew that at least it was in a case. Tazing him would be the best thing. But there were a lot of people.
A priceless violin. It had to be saved.
It had value in the millions, and a Stradivarius like that was worth at least £3 million pounds if not double, dating back from 1710. It was one of one, almost bespoke, a violin made for Queen Anne around the time that the Acts of Union that put the United Kingdom into existence was made.
It wasn't so much an instrument, so much as it was a piece of history itself.
As the police ran around the corner on the far side of the platform, Lightning Girl was no longer alone, cape blowing in the breeze from the Underground's trains that went through. Compared to outside, the heat was searing, the smell was of smelly hot food, but the breeze always surprised anyone not used to it- the wind of trains coming by created a gust that carried her cape.
"You don't get it! I don't get this to them, I'm...." He tried to yell, before Lightning Girl cut his spiel off by shocking him, blasting his arm, an opening created by him moving to the platform edge. Enough talk. He wasn't parting with it. And knowing what it was worth, better to get it out of his clutches. Then she could taze him properly.
The bolt was targeted precise, direct. At this range, now child's play to her as it shocked him, making him scream out, but release was easy enough.
The violin case was thrown from his reach, as she stared him down, more fierce, thinking he was lucky he hadn't. The energy building and growing, growing and growling. Screaming. She was recouping her breath but it was like so much of it wanted to keep going. She directed that into her mind.
"You're surrounded! Hands up, on the ground now, NOW!" She barked, the noise of the underground cars and the screeching of the rail even beaten out by her voice, even those of the crowd. And he looked scared. Almost ready to comply, looking behind at the crowd, and a group of day-glo yellow Metropolitan Police officers, who truly had him surrounded.
The thief blubbed, looking straight at Sophie, with a look of despair. There was nowhere to go. Nothing to lose.
"I'm sorry. I don't have a choice." He exclaimed, as he looked at his options. One side of the platform was the heroine that shocked him. The other was police who would certainly arrest him there and then, and had numbers. The third, was the tracks.
He thought it through.
And it was like nothing, as he turned to the right from where Lightning Girl faced him down, and lept, and....
"No!" She yelled, realising all too soon what was going on.
She saw a clown appear where the leather jacketed man with black hair had been, almost morphing out as they looked back at him.
With that weird fucking wig, that mask. Like all of the clowns she'd been killing, looking right at her, as Sophie watched on at him, staring right into what felt like a dozen souls.
And it wasn't fast enough for her to react as she heard the horn of the tube train ring.
Sophie screamed awake.
That blood. That mess.
All of it. It ran like a strand that came back.
Kicked on by the Carnival.
Week 2
Friday (a week after the Carnival)
08:04
Devore Heights, Los Angeles
A day off after work hadn't been enough to rest. A weekend off neither. Nor had the last few quiet days. It had been nowhere near.
The debrief, talking it through. What she'd.....they'd done. What they saw. All of it for SDN and some three letter agency that dealt with major incidents like this, and would take it to people beyond them. This sort of thing usually went that way. Mass casualty event, meant massive paperwork.
James was in his boxers, peeking around the door, as Sophie pulled the sheets up, in a cold sweat, wiping her forehead.
"You okay?"
Sophie shrug her shoulders, sort-of-laughing, trying to brush this all off. It was fine. It was fine to yell at 8am in the morning. Totally fine!
"I'm fine, honestly!"
"You're not fine." James sighed, as Sophie went to talk, but he cut him off, like the bastard of a big brother he was, being supportive and all. "I nearly went deaf, fuck, you absolutely didn't discharge all your power. Don't go sleepwalking on me either. Not when you're....."
"Oh, yeah, I had considered not all of it went into the pole, you daft twat." She laughed, poking back, as James walked in, sitting down at the end of the bed, as Sophie cleared her throat, sitting up. "It's fine."
James knew she didn't want to push it. But he had to. Not because it was uncomfortable, but because it was his sister. "Soph. Please. Tell me. I don't like it when you're this scared. If it's the carnival then..." James reassured, hand on bed above the quilt, looking across, even in his boxers just knowing it was probably important to talk it through.
"Well, it was the train and the Stradivarius again."
"I thought we talked that one through. And we'd worked it out. Nothing you could do. Guy was off his face. And had a debt to a loan shark."
"I know, James but just.....clowns brought it back for some reason. There was a clown there. All the people I killed."
"Shit.....yeah, it was a heavy one. We should schedule something in with occupational therapy, at least get you some...."
"No, James. I'm telling you, I can't just go to some therapist and explain to them what happened, because it's not fucking normal. Doing this job isn't something that someone can just wave away when it's us or them. It's not like anyone at occupational therapy....or anyone else without powers would understand. It isn't something you can turn off by talking it through, you're all there is. Look, with great...."
"Power, comes great responsibility, what are you, spitting spider webs out of your hands?" James interrupted her, Sophie retorting back.
"That guy in New York does. And it means even if it was....the only way out, it's still playing on my mind. Whether I like it or not."
"That guy, is on a list for a reason. And look, if you think it's duty, work, whatever, and I'm the worst person to tell you, but it's okay to talk it out. Especially if it comes back a lot. We're a team." James said, taking the cup of water Sophie had been drinking from to hand, and walking to the doorframe. "You did everything to the book. Same with the carnival. Not your fault Madcap snapped his neck. Not how most SDN heroes would do it, but hey." He finished, as Sophie cut him straight off.
"Management didn't see it that way. London. That is. They can see this as whatever it was." James turned his head, sighing. Sophie was talking about the tube train still. Not Madcap. Weird.
"Well, management also had no choice when SDN's Head Office starts calling, did they? Nor did Superhuman Response Unit in the documents I read because again, guy was off his face on drugs. And the same for the.....clown incident. That was beyond fucked up, so many breaches were made at City Hall, so many lacks of checks, so many bits of paperwork weren't done, I'm shocked they didn't find out all the OSHA violations let alone the fact half of them were violent felons working with children. So yeah, fuck it, some clowns died." James paused for breath.
"Uh, *some clowns died*. Christ." She shook her head, as she realised James wasn't getting this. Not understanding her at all.
"Okay, many clowns died. And you're here because you're good at what you do, Soph. Blaming yourself for stuff like that isn't in your control is going to kill you. Madcap's actions aren't yours. Nor are Gaggles. And killing a few people in self defence isn't that either. You know that's what comes with what you do. And if I'm not going to help, or a therapist, then what?" James added, sighing, going back to the earlier thoughts he had of it all. "I was proper scared you'd died because you put yourself at risk, and I'd....." James sighed, stopping entirely, as Sophie sat up.
"What, you think I'd hang back instead of saving civies?"
"That's not what I..."
"You here to babysit me then? Tell me what's right? Is that it? You have any idea...."
"No, I'm not...."
"James, again, I'm not your little sister anymore, I can look after myself. I got hurt, I can heal. Got my arse turned over, turned some of theirs back. I can do all of this, the house, the job, the life, without your help. You don't have to protect me or hold my hand at every turn, okay?" She spat honest, true, in a way she couldn't with anyone. Not anyone at work, home, anywhere.
"Yeah, but not when you wake up screaming! I'd say it to anyone!" James seemed almost exasperated, forgetting he was talking to a hero. He sighed, shaking his head, breathing out more than he would like in thought. "You know what I meant. When you got hurt, you know I cared. Cos I thought you were fucking dead. Okay? And you matter a lot." James couldn't make the words he hoped he could.
She sighed, sitting up, looking across. Fine.
Fine.
"I know you care. Just.....fuck. I don't know. Can't sit on it. The gala is tonight, so I can't take a mental health break now. Not when some therapist is going to be no use to me, so let's leave it. Look, we're these.....*Heroes of Claremont*, all in the local news, press, interviews, asking us. Shit. Especially not when half of the West Coast is planning on looking at my finely veiled arse, according to Instagram." Sophie joked with the last element as the two laughed, almost as if they were papering the crevasse-sized crack in what happened there with some comedy, that kind that even James didn't like, but knew it was his sister's choice to make. For any better or worse. She could look after herself. That was left unsaid as the conversation settled, Sophie taking it in a direction before James did.
"And the other half I need to try and put a good word in with. You know what it means to me." She said, coming back around to that topic again. James didn't want to stir shit, but felt like it was a conversation they'd had. One he had to check in with her.
"Do you think it's any different to this? I know it's the good life but....it is a lot....more.....you know. It isn't like anything you've done before." James asked, as Sophie shrugged, head against backboard, ruffling her hair, turning her feet to carpet so as to be on level with James, even in spite of her height difference.
"I like the A-Team. Like, Blackstar's lovely, Asteroid too, Eclipse is a bit shadowy but he's nice behind it all. Madcap maybe not. But.....I didn't move all this way for Claremont. I hoped......I'd see the stars, you know. After doing my graft, do some proper hero work with less paperwork, and more outreach. Clowns are one thing, but you think Black Rose or Technocrat were doing the rounds at a carnival? They're not htere. They're doing the cool stuff heroes do." Sophie chuckled, almost scared to admit to herself that it was a childish dream, smiling at the thought.
A dream she hadn't even imagined 15 years ago. Let alone even ten, really. Not until the seed of what she'd started seeing had been firmly planted. That there was only one place she wanted to be.
One that she was trying to make real. The house, LA office, sunshine, meant she was kilometres now, not thousands of kilometres, from that dream.
"Yeah, but you are doing cool stuff heroes do. And back home is....also like that?" James retorted, knowing it was a risk to argue. But a worthwhile point.
"Back home there's rain, it's crap. And a lot of things I don't want to go back to. We shouldn't....go back to that, James. All that mess. You know what I mean and.....this sunlight does wonders for me. And anyway, the biggest heroes aren't sitting in London anyway. You see them here. Everything's possible here. How many actresses, musicians, everyone, you know? And here I....we are in the furthest end of LA. Desert's that way, but we're in the city of angels. And isn't that something." Sophie mused, sitting up, trying to at least let her positivity in, rather than shit on her brother. Which would be easy. Too easy. They'd argued before but were old enough now to realise to move forward.
"I mean...I'll back you no matter what. This is your dream, Soph. But it's a lot." James resigned almost, not wanting to say what he really thought. It was pretentious, stupid, and well, hollow. Like most things in LA.
"And what's your direction now? Paperwork? We really going to talk dreams?" She barbed directly under his ribs with that one, chuckling as he got a bit more serious.
"Yeah, well sometimes I wonder what the hell I'm doing. I don't know entirely yet, but I don't wake up screaming. Nearly did after the clowns once I saw the pictures. I know not like you saw." He replied, shifting his position against the doorframe, Sophie rolling her eyes pretty hard at that. Chuckling, knowing she had a point from earlier James might have gotten, but beginning to realise she might have to deal with that a little after all.
"Yeah. It was a shit day at work. But.....what can we do. Can't just run away for the hills. Pretend it doesn't exist. Gotta face your demons no matter how much money you earn." Sophie shrugged, knowing it wasn't exactly like they were any further. But with small talk, it usually wasn't like it went further and further.
"Skepta said that." James interrupted. His eyebrows raised.
"How the fuck do you know that?" Sophie looked almost shocked. This was new. She hadn't seen him in a while, and she did not remember sharing that song like with him.
"I didn't just listen to The Stone Roses since you've been away. And anyway, I wish I could run away sometimes. What the fuck am I doing....I shouldn't be this attached to the team either, like you. I should take up Max's offer and head north before Valerie decides she wants to kick my ass. For some reason perhaps we didn't see something, spot something and they'll....." James started, Sophie looking across.
"Oh? Speight Consulting didn't see a shitload of clowns coming?" She asked, realising he was under his skin, both giggling a little.
"No, how could I tell a bunch of scary looking clowns were going to kill loads of people. Anyway, the team are a nice bunch. Proved they're more than criminals. First time in a long time I care about work which is why I was worried. That isn't just spreadsheets. Actual hero work, dispatching, you know, the stuff that actually matters. Even if last Thursday was the most batshit day I think any of us have ever had. Fuck. That was insane." James said, keeping his lips tight as Sophie leaned forwards, scars now visible more in the morning light.
"You're scared to tell me something because you're waffling. I know it. But, I'm a good sister. So, I'm not going to press you on it because, unlike you, I'm not a dickhead who wants to know it all." She stood up and covered her modesty with a loose grey t-shirt that had MUSE printed on it, chuckling at him, with a set of jogging bottoms, something at the least for breakfast.
The conversation broke as James let her by, himself going to her spare bedroom, his bedroom, and getting something to at least cover the fact he was shirtless too.
"Soph?" James asked, as his sister turned her head, halfway to the kitchen, the conversation now more of a yell, rather than an intimate one.
"Yeah?"
"Just don't accidentally taze the Governor of California tonight even if he is a clown. I know we all think it, but it's really important you don't for your job prospects. Or else Valerie is going to turn you into paste."
She replied with a simple static shock she'd grown used to giving when James emerged from the room, as James swore, and she got the last laugh in, heading straight to grab breakfast, and with it, pack her day bag, including the dress she took off the coathanger, elegantly folding it to fit inside her SDN backpack, a gentle zip with it next to her gym fit giving her the satisfaction, walking along and talking back.
"Death by snu-snu? Valerie would absolutely be my pick. Clowns didn't get kill me. I'd say she could send me to Valhalla anytime." Sophie cackled from across the house, as James shook his head, yelling back himself, voice raised. Short of caps lock, but, loud.
"Yeah I don't think she's gonna send you there softly, look, I think she'd just smash your brains in with the nearest cutlery she could find. Or Kat would turn into me and probably stab you or some insane shit!" James casually taunted her yelling back across the hall, as she laughed, reacting back with a call across the house.
"But it would be so worth it!" She chuckled, knowing shit-talking was still on the menu, in spite of how heavy the talk was.
Verbal abuse was common between the siblings, giving each other enough shit was a coping mechanism for plenty of things that had gone down. It was a sign of affection. Despite the earlier argument.
She slung it onto the kitchen table, sighing a breath as she looked back.
"I've got oats, you coming or nah?" Sophie yelled across the house, as James ran out, chinos and shirt on, nodding.
"Yeah, go on." James added, buttoning his shirt as he walked into the kitchen, the thought on his mind. Sophie's white hair was still a mess, but today she had her new 3D-printed mask to use again over her messy spare mask that she had when she started out that was more angular and like a pair of goggles, the mask on the table next to her overnight oats and blueberries, where the two siblings got bowls and spoons ready and for the first time in a while, shared breakfast.
And the acceptance James might actually listen to rap. Fuck. That was a realisation about him that almost shocked her more than A, getting hit by a power line, and B, the fact of all plans in life he had, he didn't have one right now.
He listened to rap music at all?
[center]
Friday
10:21
Interstate 15, Los Angeles
The commute was the usual for James, and Friday did not let up.
With Dr Dre this time around. That song Sophie mentioned skipped to this on his playlist. Fuck, it decided to choose golden era rap, which was normally not his marmalade, but it fit his rage of sitting still at 2mph in eastern LA County and it was, what it was.
Stuck in traffic. He shouldn't have been cranking this shit, but it blocked out his thoughts. Like that intro scene from Office Space. Something like it. Something fucking like it.
Sitting there, looking up, looking as a couple of caped figures made their way in. While he was sitting on traffic on the interstate with the A/C fan whirring away to keep his cool. Last time this week. 2nd to last time this month.
The filled up thermos full of actually decent Little's Coffee. Again.
Sophie was certainly scared.
Shit, no doubt she was. After everything, EMTs had sorted her wound, James had regrouped the team, and it all got heavy. It was a blur. It was all far, far too much to take in. No end of interviews. No end of debriefs. No end of work.
It went on into the weekend for him. The team were all off. Recovering. He had papers. Interviews. Calls. Fucking no end of discussion as to what he knew. What the team saw. Everything else.
Then looking after her once she was out of hospital.
Sophie was at home drawing power all weekend, getting a new cowl 3D printed from the siblings' mutual friend, suit off to SDN's seamstress services for repairs to cover the whole.
The week had been a quiet one.
Day by day. Papers by papers. Dispatches that did nothing. Claremont was being covered fairly heavily to let the team recover, one by one, members of the team coming in off sick leave. Meta-Man had come back, that one was new, but he was with Claremont's B-Team. Guy wasn't a total miserable piece of shit this time around. But no doubt that chapter wasn't entirely closed, James guessed.
Back into drive.
Off the freeway ramp.
Down the clogged road.
Beep, beep, motherfucker. Why did you cut in?
Fucking bullshit traffic.
This fucking city. Insane clowns. A team he really shouldn't have been getting into.
Why was he?
What was he thinking?
He was nearly there. No time to think that too much now.
And pulling in. Finally at SDN Claremont. Finally in an actual space. Though the car park was filling earlier, because people were getting angry they had to leave their cars outside due to how small the parking area was.
---/-/-/
Car locked, backpack on, and through the doors, sun beating down already and making him wish he put on sunscreen for the journey in.
"Morning."
"Morning!" Samson was more excited than James was.
James was not in the mood, thermos in one hand, backpack over shoulders, off-white striped blue coloured dress shirt on with grey chinos, usual shoes, and CONSULTANT badge on as per usual.
Outsider to it all here to keep doing what he did best.
Into the lift.
Ding! Doors open.
Big yawn.
Another day in paradise. At least, it was Friday.
(@anyone to catch up with James)
Going into the offices, James was met with.....some witch was in the far corner, putting her hand up as she saw James. She had been arguing with Mattieu, as the dispatcher just sighed.
He knew who this was. She looked tactical, oddly, a brunette with a olive witch's hat, what looked like half a bush on her shoulders and back, lots of tattoos of vines and an awful lot of butterflies tattooed on her open sleeves beyond her olive t-shirt, with what looked liked an AK in her hands that had a wooden staff in it, as he sighed. It was like the second time this week he had to deal with this.
"Miss......Dylatowa, we know, wrong office. Matt doesn't like you spraying extraction glyphs on the wall when you get sent here. By....we're genuinely not sure who in SDN Central Europe. You can't keep coming here and spraying the wall." James broke up her arguing with Matt, but strangely, already saw James coming.
Like she'd heard it already.
The witch was a seer, after all. That he had figured out the first time when Matthieu basically couldn't do anything about her movements when she was running around the office trying to look for an exit, and seemed to grab at thin air because she seemed to almost foresee every single move. She was just playing polite, as the witch looked up at him.
"Kurwa. Every fucking time....I'm killing that sorcerer. Can't ever get the address right, Alan is full of shit! And I told you, the glyphs wipe off with foam! I can see it when I fucking go, kurwa!" She grunted with the hardest Slavic accent you've heard and swearing like a sailor that completely went against her druidic sort of look, moving on, shuffling her boots against carpet. Before Matt could get a word in, she was breaking out a glowing neon pink spray can and spraying a hex into the wall, before suddenly disappearing before anyone had the chance to yell at her as, vanishing into smoke.
James sighed, as Raul walked on by, looking at the fading glyph on the wall that left a small stain, wondering just what the hell that was.
"Who was that?"
"Eh, some witch who keeps accidentally being sent here over and over again when they send her to jobs. You ever like hit copy on an entire work group an email?" James noted, as if this was just any other Friday. And another thing he had to deal with.
Raul looked at him, and just gave a polite nod, like all things here, just that was how it was.
Like all things.
Like fucking everything.
"It's that. I'm sure she'll tell the Polish branch to do a.....spellcheck. Anyway. Morning." James simply uttered, before leaving Raul and Matt to their confusion in what they weren't sure was a pun or just a technical term, wondering through the office, leaving them to both continue incanting computers, and cleaning up the messy dust and spray paint that the mystery witch from an altogether different world had left behind. This time, hopefully she wouldn't come back.
James sighed, as he thought about it all going down once again, walking to his desk, waving to Martha in her office, and Kat, who was on a Teams call, but even managed to get a wave in. The carnival, the insanity that had brought. The debriefs. The sheer amount of blood he'd had to deal with. His hyperactive mind drifting there again.
End to end reporting. The amount that was so significant it was actually taken off his desk and given instead to SDN's central admin team, because the FBI, and no end of other three letter agencies that monitored heroes were interested in just what the hell had led to that happening. He sat down and tried to push that out of his mind. But failed to. Man. It was fucked up.
But there was a plushy monkey there sitting in his chair that he realised right before he sat down.
Who had put that there?
The sticker on the back of the monkey's head explained who when he picked it up and put it in front of his face, to any observer, a moment in comedy gold.
"YOU"
Okay, that broke him a little, as he nearly spilled a bit from his thermos, picking up the monkey and placing it next to Felix, who eyed up the monkey with a death stare, whilst James rolled in his chair.
That monkey meant that it was almost certain that Lightning Girl had found a way to find the plushies, and return one to Blackstar and Hat Trick. The panda and polar bear respectively. She didn't have enough hands, coins or energy left to find one for Asteroid, Madcap and Eclipse, but, she would find a way to make them something in crochet. James always saw she had a project on the go, and after the Llama, it felt like that had devolved into about five depending on setting and her complete lack of ability to sit still when she had voltage in her veins.
The computer in front of him whirred into life, as he flicked open his laptop, and peeking over the booth, sighed. A certain meowing noise however, brought him back around.
Felix pawed at his legs, as he smiled, breaking out from his morning monotony, picking him up with a gentle scoop and giving him lots of fuss, to keep him away from his new guest.
"Aww. Hey little guy." He smiled, his phone buzzing with the meeting update from the police.
Rescheduled Meeting with Claremont PD, 5pm. They had theories on what linked the recent crime wave in Claremont together, but like all detectives in this town, their theories were just suspicions, rather than fact.
SDN had nothing to give them, but Felix, this little cutie, he had all the time in the world as James stroked his tiny little ears, and his cute little toe beans, realising what he wanted to do. He wanted food, he was playing nice. Well, James thought to himself, Felix had certainly been trying this morning, and with the small ball on a stick placed under his desk, with a teeny bit of catnip and lots of wet tuna feed, at least one of the two of them this morning was being productive.
An email flickered in. HR. Timesheets.
This was going to be a really fucking long day, he sighed to himself, peeking over at where Martha sat, and pushing down the urge to tell her to get fucked.
If you couldn't tell, James had no end of distractions. Felix was welcome, but god, he had no end of the other stuff.
Friday
11:50
Underground Gym
SDN Claremont
(@anyone who would be in the gym!)
Lightning Girl was be in the gym again, the pre-work-workout once again occupying her. Without the usual suit, she had opted for a white set of tights and a white stretch vest that covered her core, with a bit going down to her elbows and wrists, hopefully keeping some modesty. She didn't want the suit to stink, not in case plans changed.
She was strong. She told herself that carrying the heavy weight, swinging it over her shoulders.
But what if he was right?
What if he had a point?
What if Quickdraw was at the Gala?
He said that he saw what happened. Everything at the Carnival. Hoped she was okay. And that she was welcome to visit. What a sweetheart.
She didn't really want to think it over too much. That wasn't a healthy thought to mix in with her own worries, as she continued to make gains to lose pains. Mental and psychological, to herself, at least.
Pushing hard, the wound at her side was mostly healed, in the sense of, it wasn't causing her pain or worry anymore, and while it left a fun little scar, it would probably disappear itself which was good.
Weight back to floor, she peeled on the cable loose against her side and let it run in to the wall, the power filling up colour to a vivid oversaturation, before releasing it and gently tucking the thing aside.
With cable firmly put away, if any other heroes had been in the gym with her, she made a nod to notion she was heading to the changing room and quickly throwing gym fit into a bag, deodorant on to make sure she didn't stink out the place, and the costume back on again, before bolting back upstairs. The marks of brick, and blood had almost 99% been removed, but the teeniest residues always stayed, which was her lesson for picking a white costume.
She hadn't spoken with Eclipse much since the festival, thinking about it. She hadn't remembered seeing him on the roof coming in, but then again, she'd always been here a little too early.
Friday
12:49
Break Room
SDN Claremont
@everyone
The whole team were back in the break room again, as the microwave went ping, and James took out the microwaved burger and nearly burnt his hand moving it onto a plate.
"That has so much unhealthy shit in it, it's going to kill you." Lightning Girl poked at the bun, leaning against the countertop, as always, giving needless commentary.
"I thought your power was electricity. Not being a nutritionist." James yoinked the plate away back, from the always watchful eye of Lightning Girl, James looking to the group.
"Alright everyone, we're on for half a shift today. As I'm sure you all know, the SDN LA County Annual Gala got moved.....again.....to today, at 6pm, and we are all invited. Be back here for 5:30 and dress formally, as per the Slack message. No flying, because you're getting a limo to pick you up." James said, leaning against the table."Enjoy yourselves when you go. After what happened last week....heroes don't always get the recognition they deserve, but you all absolutely do. But let's get through this afternoon first, yeah? Have a good one." James added, picking up the plate with one hand and a mug with the other, Lightning Girl nodding.
"Aye, Captain!" She mocked him with a salute, knowing that having her motherfucking brother as a dispatcher was just still so stupid. It was, wasn't it. After all they went through. All the worry he had, the injury, the other dispatches, this, this was still real.
James had no more words for that, as he looked to the rest of the team, sighing, but cracking a smile, taking them in. What a colourful bunch they were. And a bunch he needed to get onto the headset for, ready for 1300 hours so they would actually do some work.
Meanwhile, Lightning Girl took her part-knitted, pink and grey highland cow that she was making a plush crochet out of, and got to work. Having sucked in plenty of energy from the nearby transformer again, she was feeling a little less down than she had earlier. And having a mask on, that at least meant she felt a little more....this.
"I really should stop teasing him." She chuckled, speaking to maybe nobody in particular.
