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Thursday
2:06pm
Finale

(( ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ: n/a | ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ: @Auragreedia/Madcap, [various] ))

She couldn't breathe.

No, wait -- she could, she could. It just hurt. A lot. So much that her body was trying not to breathe without her mind consciously making the decision.

Ow. It was on the right, somewhere. Lower rather than higher. Did she have a broken rib? Wow. First broken bone. Exciting.

And suddenly she wanted to start bawling because no one knew.

First bone breaks were supposed to be for wild childhood shenanigans where your parents freaked out and rushed you to the hospital then got annoyed at you for sticking stuff down in your cast later. They were for college roadtrips with your best friends when things got a little too rowdy and you and the gang got to go spend your Thursday night in an ER together.

Right? Right? That was what it was like in the movies.

This wasn't the movies. Alaine blinked the blood out of her right eye again. No, this was some whacked-out carnival with a bazillion clowns, and she... what was she doing?

She shifted a little and was immediately greeted with full-body pain, plus the discomfort of smashed wood under her palms. Ah, right. She was out of juice. She'd dived out of the air and tackled Gaggles off Madcap and now... Her ears were ringing, but she was pretty sure she could hear Lightning Girl shouting.

Bad shouting or good shouting? ...Sounded like communicating. Not screaming. Okay. That was good.

Alaine tried to push herself up again and managed it that time, though one of her hands slipped a little where she was trying to brace against what probably used to be the counter of the stand she'd barreled into. When she glanced at her hand, she saw the sanguine smear her gloved fingers had left and felt her stomach drop.

It had happened again. She'd done it again.

Bile rose in the back of her throat and she struggled to hold her guts down, even as everything started assaulting her senses all at once. The pain, the residual vertigo, the nausea, the voices, the memories, the panic.

No no no no, she hadn't wanted to do it again. It was like speedrunning the five stages of grief.

Denial. She couldn't have done that again -- it wasn't the same. It wasn't the same. She'd had to.
Anger. Why? Why couldn't she have just kept her good streak going, why did those stupid clowns have to make her do that?!
Bargaining. Maybe it wasn't so bad -- they had been bad guys, real bad guys, and they'd been trying to kill everyone. Her, LG, civilians, everyone. Maybe it was something she could live with.
Depression. Except it wasn't. It wasn't something she could live with. It was going to be like the month after the first time. She wasn't going to be able to sleep or eat or think straight, and she was going to be in so much pain because she deserved it and it was going to hurt and she'd have to writhe in the dark of her apartment alone.

Alaine felt herself starting to hyperventilate despite the extreme discomfort in her ribs.

Acceptance. She'd done what she'd done. It was over. She couldn't take it back. She couldn't stop what was coming.

Her hands were shaking. Everything was shaking. She was breathing too much and not enough at the same time, her head spinning, screaming in the back of her mind -- whether it was her or the stars she didn't know, and she was losing the ability to think long enough to figure it out.

Not now, she begged herself silently, still outwardly trying to get up despite the overwhelming dismay building in her chest. Now now not now not now please this is such bad timing--

She heard more than saw Hat Trick's approach, and she managed to drag her head up while still on her hands and knees. Focus. Focus on something, anything...

Counting heads. Like she had for years growing up, walking at the back of the group. Brook, Grace, Ezra, Elijah, Joy, Mom, Dad. This time she was counting teammates -- Lightning Girl, Asteroid, Hat Trick... Ah. Well that wasn't comforting. That was only half the team.

An especially deep, panicked breath had pain lacing through her lungs and Alaine winced, stuck on her hands and knees amid the rubble for a moment more as she fought two battles at once.

“Why did the clown stop making jokes?”

Fuzzy vision focused in on the speaker. Gaggles? Gaggles... and Madcap. She focused on the later briefly, adding that to her team headcount. Good, he wasn't dead. At least her dive had maybe helped him out, rather than just made the evil clown king disappear.

Alaine gritted her teeth, pushing off her hands and sitting back on her knees. A small movement, but her entire body seemed to disapprove. Strongly.

“He lost his head.”

Blinking thickly, she frowned over at Gaggles and Madcap, the latter of the two holding the former around the throat. Deathgrip. She knew what was happening even before the manic laughing -- Lightning Girl's call to cuff the clown wasn't going to be followed.

The sharp snap and sudden silence brought no visible reaction from Blackstar, who just sat there on her knees, struggling to find a way to breathe that didn't hurt. In the back of her mind, there was some part of her that still wanted to be mortified. In the front of her mind, there was a much fresher part of her that thought Madcap should've torn Gaggles head clean off.

Like she could've done.

Oh God, there was the nausea again. She tilted her head up and back, something in her neck protesting the movement -- but it helped a little with the sickening feeling.

She could feel, in her core, the carnival dropping -- but not as fast as it should've. She didn't bother trying to puzzle through why.

Madcap was looking at all of them, hands spread like he was waiting for some kind of decree. She didn't have one to give.

Blackstar bit the inside of her cheek, hard, and forced herself to her feet. Another headcount. Lightning Girl, Hat Trick, Asteroid... Madcap. No Eclipse, anywhere. He was probably tied up somewhere else. Yeah. Just tied up.

She shook her head, feeling like her brains were mush in her skull. Back to business. She could be miserable later. A lifetime of putting everything and everyone else first meant she was well-versed in biting back her own discomforts to make sure what needed to be done got done.

She could be miserable later.

---

It was easy enough to dodge going to see Alan back at headquarters. If anybody asked, Blackstar was quick to chirp that she had a healing factor. "It'll be kicking in any minute here, I'll be fine! Focus on the others, I'm good."

She hated lying. She never used to lie, ever, and now it felt like every other word out of her mouth was some tall tale or another.

Yeah, she had a little kick to her body's natural healing ability, but it just took off the edge of the healing process. Broken ribs generally took 6-12 weeks, so she'd be better in 4-8. She probably should've let Alan of Plymouth slap some morphine spell on her or something, but...

Looking at herself in the bathroom mirror, mask still on, still covered in grime and blood, she knew why she didn't.

She deserved the pain.

It was supposed to hurt, after what she'd done.

Alaine started to tug her mask down, ignoring the searing pain around that right eye. But as she saw her face starting to emerge in the mirror she felt an overwhelming sense of apprehension and turned abruptly, putting her back to the counter as she finished pulling the mask down, letting it hang around her neck. A glimpse at the inside revealed a good bit of blood around her right eye lens, and she huffed softly to herself.

She was still in public, despite the bathroom being safely empty for the moment, so her guard was still up. There was still more hurt on the way. It'd hit when she was at the apartment probably, alone, out of the public, free to crash and burn.

She wasn't looking forward to it. It was going to hurt. It was really, really going to hurt. The panic started rising again, tangible in the back of her throat. But she deserved it. Breathing quickened, lungs burned. Her eyes were starting to sting again.

Alaine tugged off her gloves before looking at the red-stained fingers made her start fighting nausea. Her hands were bloodied underneath, but that was her own blood, from split knuckles. That was fine. Grabbing the backpack she'd brought in from the locker room she moved for one of the stalls, starting the laborious process of stripping out of her uniform. Normally she wouldn't have bothered until she got back to the apartment, but she wasn't going to be able to fly to her window and slip in that afternoon. She didn't have enough energy. It'd have to be walking.

Which was going to hurt.

Stripped out of the uniform, she changed into the civilian clothes she'd brought in the backpack, just in case she'd needed them -- dark jeans, black t-shirt, black hoodie. All of it went right on over the blood and gore and open wounds, no effort made to bandage herself up yet. She didn't have enough first aid supplies in the backpack for that, and she wasn't about to let anyone at SDN know her "healing factor" wasn't already in full swing.

Slipping out of the bathroom in her new, almost full-coverage civilian look, Alaine first made sure no one was around to see her bare face before making for her locker. She had a black, cloth facemask, like people wore when they were sick sometimes, and a pair of sunglasses… she was pretty sure she’d just dropped them in the locker the other day.

It crossed her mind to go find Jet. He hadn't looked too good last she caught a glimpse of him, but she’d bolted right down to the locker room almost as soon as they got back to SDN.

He wouldn't want to see her. He'd probably just want to get himself checked out by Alan then head home and pass out, get some sleep. That would be best for him, definitely. What would she even do? Ask if he was okay? What was the point?

God, sleep sounded so nice. She doubted she'd be getting any any time soon. Alaine grimaced as reaching back into her locket sent a stab of pain through her shoulder. Ah, right. She'd been stabbed back there... shallowly, but she probably should've looked at that in the bathroom. Too late then.

There. She felt the mask and sunglasses and pulled them out, quickly putting on the mask and planning to go find that one back door she’d scoped out early in the week. Only, as she turned to do just that, she caught sight of herself in the locker room mirror.

Aw, yikes. She looked… well. Like she’d gotten beaten up by a bunch of clowns. With her hood up, the shadows across her face made her eyes look dark.

Hesitating briefly, she trudged closer to the open sinks and the mirror, looking specifically at the gash in her brow, above her right eye. No wonder she’d been blinking so much blood out of her vision… it was still bleeding a bit, plenty of dried and drying blood smeared all around her brow, her temple, her eye. It looked like it was swelling, too. Lovely.

Alaine hesitated yet again, then stepped a little nearer and tugged her mask down under her chin. The red tear-tracks were still scrawled down her cheeks, and fortunately her nose and busted lip weren’t bleeding anymore, but it didn’t look pretty.

She started to inhale deeply only to stop herself short as pain laced through her ribs, altering the breath to something shallower.

There was a sound behind her. Whether it was just a natural building sound or someone entering the locker room, she didn’t stop to figure out and instead hastily trying to yank the mask up – only to forget she was still holding her sunglasses with that same hand. Said sunglasses subsequently hit her right in her injured eyebrow and Alaine doubled over, snapping out an agitated and very Southern, “OW! Doggone it, son of a frickin’--”

She cut herself off, hissing through a grimace and thumping her fist on the counter weakly. Of course, doubling over had made her ribs ache again, and had stretched out that stabbed shoulder, so, like an idiot, she’d only hurt herself more. “...ow…”

Sucking in a shallow breath, she stayed slightly bent over, trying to keep her unmasked face out of view of whoever might’ve just come in. Weakly waving her arm with the unstabbed shoulder back in the general direction of the locker room, she managed, to whoever might be there, “Sorry – s-sorry, I’m fine…”

Said person approaches slowly- feet dragging just a little as they do. “H-hey- S-Bee- relax- hey- it’s just me.” Each word feels like he has to carefully chisel it from glass. The edges of each piece coming off in his hands.

Jet’s in rough shape. His face is mottled red, black, and blue. Blood vessels burst over the places of impact. He’s been relying on the pure battered shape of his face to protect his identity at this point- having gone maskless since they’d arrived back at SDN. His right eye is swollen shut, and his left one looks like he burst a few blood vessels in it too. Black bruises color his cheek bones. He was going to look even uglier tomorrow.

In his right glove at his side he’s clutching a half melted ice pack. His left one hovers about waist level fingers pointed in Blackstar’s direction. He does not touch her. He just- wants to.

Actually he’s not sure he’s ever wanted anything else more than he wants a hug right now.

That’s probably the painkillers talking- someone gave him a shot of morphine in the medical bay upstairs to tide him over til he got to bed. They figured he had some sort of tolerance. Nah. The injection had immediately felt like the descent on a rollercoaster- but- up? It’d erased the pain, but now it was a dull ache. It wasn’t going to last much longer.

Alaine stared at him, at least with one eye. Her right was squinting a little.

“Jet–” God, he looked awful. Concern twisted up her stomach in knots and before she knew it she was dropping the sunglasses on the counter, already halfway to reaching for him but stopping herself before she could bring her arms up.

“Are you okay?” Jet’s getting a bit more comfortable with speaking now. But his tongue feels fat and slow in his mouth. He tilts his head- and motions vaguely at her side. “Hopefully you got patched up?”

Alaine bit back several different responses before finally managing, “I-I’m okay. I’ll be fine.”

She hesitated. “You look– I mean… you got…?”

The words wouldn’t quite come out right, but she could see the icepack. He must’ve gotten seen to. But suddenly she felt like she needed to go back up there and make sure they’d done everything they possibly could for him.

She saw his hand out of her peripheral, the one not holding the icepack. Her own hovering hands moved on instinct, both going to fold shakily around his, curling over his fingers and palm. She hated her bloody hands and she hated she was touching him with them but she couldn’t help it – she needed it. She had to.

After a moment- he can’t help himself. “Was that-? An accent?” There’s a smile in Jet’s voice, and one side of his mouth quirks up. A dimple appears despite the bruising.

How was he cute? How was he cute like that, looking like he’d been curb stomped by twenty clowns, his poor face all black and blue and red and one eye almost swollen completely shut–

“Uh– y-yeah,” she squeaked, clearing her throat a little and huffing out something that was half a laugh and half something distressed. Somehow she’d completely forgotten about her own pains; it still hurt, it just… wasn’t important anymore. “Yeah, sorry, it – I’ve been told it, um, twangs. Sometimes.”

Mostly when she was particularly animated about something. She tried to tone it down because she felt like people didn’t take her seriously when she was legitimately mad because she was just “y’all”ing and “ain’t”ing and “doggone it all”ing the whole time.

A frown tugs at Jet’s lips.

“Are you okay?” she asked, any amusement fading to concern as she shifted just a little closer, searching Jet’s face intently, eyes dropping to scan him over like she had to double-check the work of the qualified medical team upstairs. “Are you really okay? Do you need anything? Do you need help getting home?”

Forget about getting herself home, this was way more important. She could fly for this. She’d make it work somehow.

Alaine’s close. Close and- looking at him. He takes half a step back, but his hands seem to do the opposite. His fingers curl, hooking themselves tighter to hers. He blinks- trying to process her back to back questions. “Uhhh- I’ve been- better. I’ve been worse. I-” He pauses, mouth getting ahead of his head.

“I could- really use a- uh-” Come on Jet- you’re holding fucking hands. That’s like friendship 2nd base over a regular hug. “a hug?” He’s not thinking straight- maybe this is weird. They met practically yesterday.

Alaine blinked, and her mind started trying to spiral again. Was that a bad idea? Was that a good idea? She hadn’t hugged anyone in about two actual years. She was going to start crying. Would that weird him out? She didn’t want to accidentally hurt him. Was that a consciously-asked question or something concussion induced? Was he concussed? She needed to talk to the medical people upstairs. What if it wasn’t? Why did he want her to hug him? Hadn’t he seen her at the carnival, didn’t he think she was–

Something that wasn’t her mind and might have very well been her heart went ahead and made a decision.

He hadn’t even fully gotten the request out yet and she was already closing in, hands gently letting go of his as her arms looped around him instead. Bloody fingers curled tight against his back as her head dropped lightly against his shoulder, and when she expected to be assaulted by a thousand thoughts and worries–

Her head was quiet. No insistent stars flickered behind her eyes, no anxious energy prickled in her veins.

It wasn’t the most idyllic of situations, no… her rib was hurting and her face was hurting and he was probably hurting too, and they both smelled like blood and sweat and smoke, and they both looked absolutely abysmal.

And somehow, it was the most at peace she’d felt since… forever, really. She couldn’t remember the last time. She couldn’t believe it.

Ignoring the pain in her chest, Alaine let out a deep, shaky sigh against Jet’s shoulder. She wanted to tell him he made it quiet in her head, she wanted to tell him she’d felt his gravity at the carnival and it had kept her from losing her mind but – that wasn’t his problem. She didn’t want him to feel any kind of obligation, she wasn’t asking for anything. Plus, she was afraid if she opened her mouth then she wouldn’t be able to get anything out without blubbering.

So she just kept her mouth shut and closed her eyes for a minute, holding on to Jet and his gravity for what little while she could.

Alaine's arms encircled him slowly. He stiffens, anticipating a zing of pain. There is none. She’s so gentle that he sucks in a breath- filling his lungs just a little too full. A tiny quiet gasp, one that feels like a cool burning in his esophagus. When her head rests on his shoulder he has to thank the people upstairs once more for the morphine. It dulls his aching body. He's so happy that he's only mildly uncomfortable.

When he leans his less injured cheek against her forehead. He barely registers that it happens. Time is getting a bit blotchy for him. His left eye flutters open after a little while. One of his arms is wrapped around her shoulders, the other is around her mid back. The warmth of the woman in his arms is like a blanket on his nerves.

“Thanks.” His appreciation spills out softly.

Alaine took a breath to respond, but she immediately felt that lump in her throat and knew she’d better not… so instead she just nodded faintly, a gentle motion he could probably feel against his cheek.

Vertigo spikes, and he feels his body begin to tip to compensate. The hypoxia from the thin air was not doing him any favors. Reluctantly he lifts his cheek from her to speak.

“And- I uh- could call Rey to come and get me. I’m half expecting him to be waiting for me at my place. Are you okay to fly?”Jet is starting to feel a little silly not having a car in L.A. He didn’t want to impose on her, and it seemed to be coming up a lot. But there was always ridesharing.

Still struggling with feeling a little choked up, Alaine shook her head ‘no’ before she caught herself and hastily nodded out a false ‘yes’, only to feel bad immediately and shrug out an indecisive bob of her head instead.

“I… could manage,” she answered, clearing her throat lightly in an attempt to get rid of that shaky note in her voice. “I mean, I’ll. Um. I’ll figure it out.”

Trying to skip past it, she asked, her eyes doing yet another concerned sweep over him, “Do you have a phone? I’ve–” Oh. She only had her real phone in her locker. …Well, he could use it to call some friend of his. Nobody could track that to Blackstar. Probably. “I-I’ve got one you can use if you need. And you – I could give you my number, too. If you want. I mean if you feel like you might need anything, um, later. And Rey’s not available.”

Jet rests his cheek on her head once more. “Yeah, let’s call Rey. He’ll help us get home. How far are you from my place?” It’s not firm, but it’s assumptive. He can’t imagine the wind burning a facial wound. He lets go gently, catching himself on the counter beside them. His stomach swoops lightly.

She made a muffled huffing sound against his shoulder before he pulled back, trying to feel exasperated or anxious or something like that, something she probably should’ve been feeling. Instead she just felt overwhelmingly grateful, and still kind of emotional, and very very tired.

Pulling back a little herself as Jet let go, she let her arms slip away from him, one hand lifting to hastily wipe across her eyes. “Uh…” Her puzzling over the distance between their places faltered for a second when she saw him wobble, hand twitching instinctively; but he caught himself and she relaxed partially.

“Uh… I’m not really sure,” she admitted. Flight distance wasn’t too bad, but flight distance wasn’t too bad anywhere. She knew how to get between their places in the air, but if she had to do it from the ground she’d be completely lost.

Alaine hesitated briefly as she turned to the backpack she’d left sitting on the counter a moment ago, reaching in to feel out her phone under her discarded and bundled-up suit; she had to take a second to boot it back up, a red and blue image of a dragon lighting up the lock screen as she spoke again.

“It’s, um… River Valley,” she managed to remember the name of her apartment building. One that struck her as odd, given it wasn’t in a valley nor near a river. Maybe it was just trying to sound ritzy to disguise the fact it was one of the cheapest options available. Quickly unlocking the phone and handing it over, almost a little shyly, she tried not to look like she was watching everything he was doing.

It wasn’t that she really had anything to hide, nothing that he’d be able to find unless he went looking at her texts and found her family’s addresses or something. She was just a little embarrassed that he might see her home screen, which was a picture of her at probably ten years old, beaming ear to ear with braces while holding up a fat tabby cat that was probably half as big as she was.

When she hands him the phone, the first thing he does is put his contact in. ‘Jet 🚀’, he presses the camera button, holds it up and takes a picture of the hot mess that is his face.“There, now you’ll remember which Jet it is.” Then without further thought he punches in Rey’s number.

“Thank goodness,” she mumbled, unable to help a weak grin of amusement.

One ring, two, and it picks up. An older warm voice answers the phone. “Hello-? Jet?” There’s a lot of worry in his best friend’s voice and it makes him wince. He guesses the news coverage was pretty intense.

“Rey- I’m fine.” He catches the look Alaine gives him and amends his statement. “Well- mostly- I’m just banged up.”

“That looked brutal- are you at the office?” In the background he hears the man pick up his full keyring and the chime of his door. A warmth bursts in his chest.

“Y-yeah. Me and-” he looks up, meeting Alaine’s eyes, and then quickly up at the ceiling. “-a friend need a lift home- do you mind?” He sucks on his bottom lip.

“I’ll be there in fifteen.” He hands the phone back to Alaine after he hangs up. His chest feels tight, thankful that Rey is his family. “Rey’ll be here in fifteen. Let’s get out of here.”

She took the device back, casually shutting it completely off again before sticking back down in the bottom of her backpack, which she proceeded to gather up and tug over her right shoulder to avoid that aching stab wound on the left. The sunglasses went on and the facemask went up as they made their way outside and waited, but after about two minutes she’d resolved to take them off again once in the safety of Rey’s vehicle. They were really irritating the various little injuries scattered across her face.

Rey drives an old wide pickup with a bench seat. Jet climbs in first. He sits with the gear box between his legs, which leaves plenty of room- and a seatbelt- for Alaine beside him. In the driver seat is Rey- he’s wearing a purple Lakers jersey. The color reflects onto his cheeks, turning his normally copper-toned black skin a cooler color.

Alaine’s face automatically started to crack into a smile at the sight of the old pickup, but the motion hurt so she muscled it down. It reminded her of her dad’s truck. Climbing in after Jet, she let her small backpack sit in her lap, proceeding to remove the sunglasses and tug the mask down under her chin again. If Jet trusted Rey, she figured she could too… plus, she hardly looked like herself at the moment.

“Rey- this is Bee. Bee- this is my best friend Rey.” Rey leans forward around Jet, offering a wave.

Alaine returned it, a touch embarrassed about the state she was in. But Rey had kind eyes, and that – plus the way her leg rested against Jet’s – put her at ease. “Hi. Thank you for the ride.”

“Hi Bee, nice to meet you.” Rey leans forward to wave politely with a kind smile. The older man is shifting into gear the second he hears Alaine’s seatbelt click. He takes the opportunity to knock into Jet- it’s careful on account of how banged up he looks- but it’s also a warning. A hundred words in one action.

Seatbelt safely on, Alaine sank back against the worn seat, wincing a bit but letting out a small, relieved sigh. Thank God she didn’t have to walk home. Now that she was sitting, the exhaustion was hitting hard.

Jet reaches over Rey. That earns him a scolding- “Hey man- watch it I’m trying to drive here.” He plucks the phone from its stand on the left side of the wheel. Unlocking the phone with a swipe code is muscle memory.

Very quietly, the GPS begins directing them.

Sleep wasn’t going to come easy, if at all, when she got back to her apartment. She knew that already. She felt alright at the moment – mentally, anyway – between the depletion of cosmic energy and Jet’s grounding presence, but once that was gone?

Alaine cringed a bit, not wanting to think about it. Instead she sank a little in her seat, subconsciously gravitating towards Jet in the middle until her shoulder nudged him.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, specifically to him, leaning back and closing her eyes for a minute as the rumbling of the old pickup created a familiar kind of white noise.

With a brief nod, he presses his ankle against hers. The connection point lights up his nerves like a Christmas tree. “Yeah Bee- literally- any time.” Jet replies softly.

It’s a little while until they make it to Alaine’s apartment, but when they roll up, Jet finds himself wishing they could all just go back to his place. But that’s not in the cards. Despite the meds wearing off, he shifts his wait to the edge of the bench after her. His feet dangle above the ground, and Jet freezes.

He wants to get out, and walk her up to the door. There’s a lot they didn’t talk about. Like- when he’d gotten his shit kicked in- he never thanked her from hauling him off the ground. How they might explain their 15 minute break if asked. Or about where their carnival prizes ended up- he’d win her a new one. He just needed the chance.

Looking back at Rey, he’s surprised to see the old man looking out the driverside window. Jet feels like he’s tucked in a safe little valley between two of his safe people. He’s not sure he’s really ever had two at the same time. This observation prompts his anxiety to claw out of the void he’s stuffed it into.

The mask came back up, though Alaine hesitated to put the sunglasses on because of how they messed with her right brow. Slipping out of the pickup once it had stopped safely, she pulled the backpack back over her shoulder and was immediately reminded that she’d just been beaten up by a million crazy clowns. Ow… Wow, she already knew tomorrow was going to hurt.

She hesitated as she glanced up at the building, not looking forward to the walk in, not looking forward to the confined space of the elevator, not looking forward to the empty silence of her apartment. Just thinking about spending the next few days off rotting there alone made her wish they hadn’t been given the extra downtime. She’d rather work through the pain than sit in it.

Alaine sucked in a shallow breath and decided she ought to thank Rey again. Anything for one less minute she had to be alone.

Alaine turns to face him as Jet reaches out. His powers are still under the weather- but he can feel their beings laying on the picnic blanket of the universe. This was something he did when he was separated from Rey in prison. Check that he was upright, around, moving like normal. Detecting someone across a prison was great practice for him. Once, he’d done that, and something had been wrong.

Alaine’s bright eyes interrupt the resurfacing of that memory- and he swallows. His chest squeezes- and he attempts once more to slide from the bench seat. A shot of pain shoots down his neck and he hisses.

“Hey–” She reached out with the hand not currently holding her sunglasses, gently catching hold of his arm. “You okay?” She was frowning, but it was a concerned expression. Hopefully that came through the grime and blood and the mask over the lower half of her face. “Be careful…”

Was he trying to get out? What for? Alaine searched his face, realizing she felt that tug again. The way she had in the middle of everything at the carnival. Something in her chest, stirred up by the dread of being alone with her own misery all weekend, suddenly seemed to settle.

Inwardly, almost subconsciously, she let out a breath of relief. Followed immediately by a little exasperation at herself. She knew the best thing for him was probably to go home and sleep – maybe be with Rey, who knew him better, who’d know how to help him. But–

But she wished she had actual food up there in her apartment. Or a couch. Something. She’d take ibuprofen if it meant she’d feel good enough to try and make something for a just-got-our-asses-kicked-but-hey-we’re-still-alive dinner. Of course it’d been a hot minute since she’d made real food, but she’d try. She could invite him up. She could invite Rey up too. Was that crazy? It wouldn’t be denying herself the pain she deserved if it was to help somebody else. Right? That would be okay, wouldn’t it?

Alaine swallowed, realizing she was still holding onto Jet’s arm. Holding onto that gravity, pretending it was keeping her boots planted right there on the curb. “...You’re gonna be okay, right?” she asked. Maybe that was rude, given he had a best friend in the truck right behind him who was probably more than capable of making sure he was okay… but she couldn’t help it.

Jet feels his blood heat when she reaches out. “Y-yeah. Rey’s gonna patch me up the rest of the way. This is old hat for us.” Rey grumbles quietly.

“I’d–” The words were coming out before she could think to double-check them first. “I’d invite y’all up but I– I don’t have, um… seating.” Literally. Unless they were cool with sitting on the counter or the floor. She knew it wasn’t really a good time for hanging out, she just wanted to make sure he could take a break before going again, if he needed it.

…She just wanted to know he was okay, really, and there was no way for her to know that if he left.

And, selfishly – so, so selfishly – she didn’t want to be alone.

You’re an adult. She could practically hear her mom’s voice in her ear. Being an adult means doing things you don’t like. You’ve got to do things on your own.

Jet offers her a smile, “text me later.” He has to stop himself from pulling her back into the cab. “I'll let you know when I'm settled too.” It's friendly, but there's a very obvious softness.

His other hand covers hers. A light squeeze. And then he's swinging his legs back into the truck. “I need to go before I fall over on either of you.”

Alaine swallowed her protests and nodded, holding onto his arm for a second more before he was pulling himself back into the truck.

“Okay–” She bit back another ‘be careful’. “I’ll… see you Monday, I guess.” She managed a small smile, leaning a little to bob her head to Rey and add, “Thank you again for the ride. It was nice meeting you.”

Alaine stood back then so Jet could actually close the passenger door, lingering on the curb as the truck pulled away. She tried to focus inward for a second, honing in on that grounding feeling she knew was Jet’s gravity; still unused to the practice and lacking the full force of her cosmic energy, she seemed to fumble a bit at actively reaching for it. But she managed, and stood there for a moment more even after the pickup was out of sight. Little by little, she could feel the distance stretching out between them.

It was a little depressing, actually.

Taking a breath, she finally turned to the building to start the dreaded trip up to her apartment. It took her a little longer than she would’ve liked, thanks to someone stepping into the elevator ahead of her which prompted her to immediately change course and make for the stairs instead, as if she was in good physical condition to climb six flights of stairs. Still, she’d rather physical pain than a potential panic attack in the elevator.

The backpack was dropped on the floor the second she was inside her place, door nudged shut behind her and locked. She didn't bother turning the light on in the main area, simply shuffling through the dark to her room and the bathroom, where she did finally flip on a light. Now would begin the unpleasant task of patching herself up, but she paused before she started to pull her phone out of her hoodie pocket.

She unlocked it and opened up her contacts, staring at the new one.

Jet 🚀. His poor face looking up at her from the contact icon made her wince a little in sympathy before she moved to send a text…

…And then just stared at the textbox blankly for five minutes. That probably made it about twenty minutes since she’d parted ways with Rey and Jet, since it had taken her around fifteen to get up to her place with all the breaks she took on the landings between floors.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of hesitation, she typed out something simple. He just needed her number after all, it was simple. She didn’t need to overthink it.

Hey, it’s Bee.

She paused, then deleted the cold-sounding period and replaced it with a waving emoji.

Hey, it’s Bee 👋

Yeah, that was better. Alaine sent it, then set her phone down on the counter, gave herself a grimace in the dingy mirror, and got to work.

It finds Jet- laying on his back on Rey’s kitchen island. Between the several stories of steps into his building and Rey's spare bed, Rey had driven to Jet’s place, added food to Ducky's tank using the week slow release feeder, collected Jet's go bag- of course he had one, and his phone.

“If you would just let me cut it off-” Rey complains as he painstakingly removes Jet's uniform. The blood has started to adhere fabric to wounds, and for the first time since he got it, he hates his costume. Rey pries up a section at his side and Jet swears loudly.

“As much as I hate it right now, this thing is technically on loan to me.” Jet tries to recall the cost he'd assume for ruining it further, but can't. Rey swears under his breath.

In his hand, his prepaid phone buzzes. An unknown number and a friendly hello. Hovering the phone close to his working eye- he saves her contact as ‘✨️Starshine✨️’.

“So you like her huh?” Rey asks, an eyebrow quirked up at him.

Jet chokes- “well- she’s- uh- she’s my coworker- uh.”

The older man waits for a straight answer.

“I’m really that obvious?”

Rey hums out a yes. Jet quickly types a message back to her- not wanting to leave her on read. ‘Hey Bee- at Rey’s. You holding up alright?’

“Well- yeah. I don’t know her well yet- but it’s- so different than it was with anyone else. She’s- not like anyone else.” There’s a sense of wonder in his voice.

He’s brought crashing back down to Earth with the burn of antiseptic.

---

The red tear-tracks took some scrubbing, but she got them off her cheeks. The blood crusted on her eyelid was a little trickier but she managed that too after a while, tediously cleaning the split in her brow above where all the blood had been coming from. It probably should've gotten a stitch or two. Instead it got some hydrogen peroxide and a couple of butterfly bandages, with a messy medical tape and gauze situation on top for the bleeding. It was swollen, too. She'd have to find something to put ice in.

Wasn't much she could do for a split lip except clean it, same with the busted nose. At least those had both stopped bleeding. Her right ear was a little bloody, but the injury seemed surface-level since her hearing didn't appear to be impacted. The bruises forming were inevitable, nothing to be done for those but more ice, assuming she had enough on hand. Any other cuts and scrapes were dealt with, scattered all over her body but mostly on her arms and torso.

Aside from her brow and that broken rib, the stab wound on the back of her left shoulder was the only other bad injury. Tricky to get to, too. Alaine refused to let herself wish someone was there to help. Everybody had their own wounds to lick. She focused on the act of giving herself first aid, fighting the mental despair with a simple, one-task train of thought. In the end, although her shoulder also probably needed stitches, it got an even messier butterfly bandage, gauze and medical tape job. She found some velcro wraps too and wound it haphazardly around her upper torso and over her shoulder to hold her gauze work in place, looking critically at herself in the mirror but knowing it'd just have to do.

Locked in with a one-track mind, she pushed herself to her feet and padded back into the kitchen, opening a drawer and grabbing the one bottle of pills kept there, muscle memory making her sore hands start to twist the lid off as she headed blindly back for the bathroom... before she realized what she was doing.

Blinking and looking down at the bottle of ibuprofen in the hallway, Alaine stared at the label for a second.

...Where did she get off, taking pain killer? What right on Earth did she have to try and take the edge off the pain she was feeling?

She deserved it. Like a medieval monk whipping himself as penance for his sins, she had to pay for what she'd done.

With a sudden surge of self-hatred she wrenched the lid off, storming into the bathroom and upending the bottle of pills over the toilet, proceeding to throw it, empty, into the trash and vehemently hitting the flush before she could second-guess it. Tears stinging her eyes she stepped back, catching sight of herself in the dingy mirror.

...Who even was that, looking back at her?

Alaine turned the light off.

Her phone had buzzed a while ago but she hadn't stopped to check it yet, busy with her first aid. Alone in her room then, however, she finally went to check the screen and blinked quickly a couple of times so she could actually see.

Hey Bee- at Rey’s. You holding up alright?

She sucked in a deep breath to bolster herself and instead stopped herself mid-breath as her side flared with pain; of course the sudden hitch in air sent her into a cough, which didn't feel much better. She sank onto the bed, wheezing, and attempted to lie down.

Ow. Everything hurt.

Holding her phone up in front of her face once she finally got herself situated in a way that felt as little painful as possible -- Alaine started to tap out an automatic response.

Yeah, I'm fine.

She scowled at the three-word draft. No, I'm not fine. She hated lying. She'd hated lying since she was a kid and that was all she'd ever done. I'm fine. It didn't hurt. I'm not scared. I want to go. I'm fine. It'd only got worse -- now she was insisting she'd never been at that cartel compound in Arizona, she'd never killed an innocent old man and run, she was in control of whatever alien energy was coiled up in her body--

Alaine grit her teeth, feeling the intense urge to just let it out, somehow. Throw the phone. Scream. Draw something. None of it was an option, so she was left with the usual number; seething in place until the boil had tempered down enough for her to take the pot off the stove and pretend it hadn't burnt.

After a few torturously long minutes, she finally lifted her phone again. Deleting her first attempt, she tried again. I'll be okay.

That was more honest. She sent it, hesitated, then typed again. Make sure you eat something.

The text was sent before she could overthink that, too, and she put her phone down on the bed, gingerly folding her hands over her stomach and staring up at the dark ceiling.

Nothing left to do but spiral.

---

---

After a week of laid-back dispatching, Alaine was feeling a little better. She was still full of aches and pains, and her broken rib was going to take a couple more weeks to be healed properly… the swelling had gone down in the various places she’d been dealing with it, and most of her other injuries were all covered by her suit. The black-on-black one, which she’d gone right back to on Monday.

She didn’t like the way blood showed up so obviously on the black and white one.

For the most part, aside from favoring of that right side of the ribcage or left shoulder – Alaine was pretty good at acting like her lie about a fast-acting healing factor was real. She was still a bit bruised up in the face where her mask didn’t cover, and her lower lip had still obviously been split last week, but if someone brought it up she was sure she could come up with something about why that hadn’t healed up already.

Getting back to work was a relief, honestly, even with the residual pain. She would’ve almost rather worked through the weekend and the worst days of the initial recovery, rather than sit in her apartment and… spiral. Or rot. Or exist in agony without any form of distraction whatsoever.

Or whatever she’d been doing in that run-on sentence of a weekend.

Making it to SDN on Friday, she was without the joyous flight of the previous week; Gaggles Carnival had apparently snapped her into a very, very serious mindset, at least for the time being, and she took her morning commute straight to work and back again in the evening.

That morning, though, she didn’t take the trip alone. In her backpack was a small, golden friend; when Lightning Girl had managed to recover the various stuffed animals she’d collected for her teammates at the beginning of their carnival dispatch, she’d brought back the tote bag Alaine had been using to stash Panda safely away. The tote also held, stuffed securely under the giant teddy, a couple pairs of “Giggles”-themed sweatpants and t-shirts, and two more stuffed animals, much smaller – a little red and black bear, and an adorable golden puppy.

The latter had been freshly laundered, and Alaine had gone out of her way the evening before to buy a white ribbon for it… said ribbon was currently tied around the puppy’s neck in a bow, and Alaine fiddled with it as she made her way down to the gym in SDN’s basement. When she’d asked someone where Lightning Girl was, they’d pointed her that way.

Sure enough, upon entering, she found the white-haired heroine hard at work. She wasn’t in her usual suit, instead wearing a sleek gym set that was still nicely reminiscent of her suit.

Alaine was relieved to see LG seemed back to health, at least mostly if not completely. She’d been worried about that stab wound, as much as it had been bleeding, and she was always a little worried that other people did what she did – saying they were fine when they really should’ve just gone and gotten medical help.

But no, Lightning Girl seemed properly on the mend. Physically, at least, who was to say how she was doing mentally. Alaine was pretty sure Gaggles’ deathfest had messed with all their heads.

Clearing her throat a little, she walked further into the gym, puppy in arm. “Hey, morning. Hope I’m not interrupting a set,” she greeted, managing a small grin. She’d specifically waited to try and catch LG between sets, but of course she didn’t know what routine the other heroine was following. “I, um…”

Suddenly she felt awkward. She glanced down at the stuffed animal she held, then gently held it out to Lightning Girl. “This is for you. I was going to give it to you… uh, well. Last week. But something happened with a bunch of clowns, so. Got kind of derailed.”

Weak joke, but she wasn’t entirely sure how everyone else was coping yet. “I cleaned him up,” she assured LG, as an afterthought. “But I get it if it’s like a… uh, very unwanted reminder of one of the worst days ever.”

The white-haired, white gym-costumed heroine turned her head hearing the door open, seeing the heroine in her black on black variant of a costume walk on through, injuries covered, for just about the most part. Lightning Girl could just, just faintly tell there was something up, maybe not all of it, but everyone’s healing factor worked differently. She didn’t really ask others, same way you didn’t ask about names, or other things….

But in any case, she was glad to see Blackstar was back on her feet. Everything had been a blur that afternoon. All of it. From being in hospital for a check up, to just seeing the team again on Monday, it had all not quite sunk in yet.

It was why that morning that dream had come back. Not called for, wanted, known. But seeing the dark-energied heroine brought a smile to her face, placing the kettlebell down into the ground with a hard thump into rubber matting. And with that tote bag, with a golden retriever like. Lightning Girl ran across grabbing her rubber gloves as Blackstar walked in, almost making the usual mental note to go for them just in case. Blackstar was mysterious, but she could half imagine the face, given she wasn’t wearing the full mask like before- her black hair hiding some red that only more recently LG had managed to spot.

“Blackstar…..awww, you really shouldn’t have. Thank you!” Lightning Girl smiled, hugging the shorter heroine, squishing the dog between them both before gently rotating it around, noticing the little ribbon that had been attached. Her face was full of glee, as Sophie took off her mask, indicating comfort around Blackstar. She’d already seen her face. Not exactly like it was going to make much difference.

“Yeah, lots happened with the clowns. That is an understatement. And don’t worry, you’re not interrupting. I’m just lugging a kettlebell until my shoulders hurt. I don’t have a plan…..I’m not that organised. Just pretending to be.” She chuckled, gently placing the pup down by her gym bag, kneeling and giggling, looking back. “You know, somewhere in that darkness there’s a heart of gold in there, Blackstar. That is so sweet of you….difficult as that day was, thank you for thinking of me. Guess you found my equivalent.” Sophie smiled at her with at least some self awareness, before standing up, stretching out, realising she should probably push the loose power cable out of the way before Alaine shocked herself.

She breathed out, sighing, leaning against the far wall, just grateful. Happy. So pleased with this all. But knowing Blackstar’s affection, as nice as it was, also came from that gentle worry about….well, that day. With her mask up, Sophie wondered how Blackstar might see the costumed heroine that was Lightning Girl, as right now, she felt like she was in the ether between them. Probably for the best. This time without the blood at least.

“How are you holding up? Sorry if you’re not used to the face, it’s……well, I’m realising you probably saw it, so no point pretending to hide between us. It helps me divide from who I am at home to this.” She added, her words trailing a little towards the end. She shook her head. “Like my innie and outie.” She chuckled with reference to the only comparison she had recently seen with James on TV, shaking her head, her white hair, a tiny, tiny fragment of blue tip in the end of her white locks revealed as she turned, the mark of where she’d been hit in the head still just about visible without the mask. That was taking longer to heal, but she was lucky to have a head of locks to cover the cut.

Alaine was still stunned from the hug. She’d been standing there in pretty much the same place since it happened, and she’d probably look more surprised if raising her eyebrows hadn’t hurt and forced her back into an easier expression.

She swallowed, still not fully in control of her emotions from last Thursday. Having her powers get such a hold on her seemed to leave her struggling to get things under control again. Or maybe that was just the lack of sleep. …Or a myriad of other things, actually.

“Oh, uh. Y-Yeah,” she finally spoke up, brain whirling as she seemed to try and catch up on everything LG had just said all at once. Somewhere in that darkness there’s a heart of gold in there. Lightning Girl was probably just being funny, but Blackstar felt a lump trying to form in her throat.

She blinked, focusing as Lightning Girl took her mask off; Alaine had a similar thought to the one she’d had at the carnival last week, that the white-haired heroine somehow didn’t look all that wildly different without the mask. Like she was Lightning Girl with or without it.

At least the pretty came through much better without the blood and grime. Alaine’s head tilted slightly as she watched the other heroine moving around, noting the injury still slightly visible and what looked like a little blue dye in the white hair. It was probably so easy to dye her hair different colors. Alaine bet if LG tried that holo hair style it would look so cool.

Blinking and refocusing yet again, she cleared her throat and gave a small shake of her head. “Oh, no, it’s fine. I mean, I’m not used to the face, but – you just look like you.” She shrugged a little, though the movement was less pronounced with her left shoulder. “...Which I guess isn’t great to hear if it’s how you divide home-you and work-you.”

She managed another small smile, mildly apologetic. She wasn’t trying to say the mask didn’t work, and she obviously didn’t know at-home Sophie… in the simplest sense, as far as she knew, LG was just LG, even without the mask. But she meant it in a good way – even if that was her civilian face, Lightning Girl still looked like someone Alaine could imagine being a hero.

“I’m, uh – I’m doing fine, though,” she answered that question finally. It was half-true. “I mean, better than last week, anyway.” That was true, at least.

Alaine debated removing her own mask. But… well, LG would see her busted eye if she did and then her lie about healing would be blown.

Also she had a sudden feeling of horror in her gut at the idea of Lightning Girl connecting the slaughter Blackstar had committed with Alaine’s face.

That’s not me, she wanted to say. But was it? She didn’t know. That was almost as bad.

Speaking of. Alaine took a deep breath – or started to, and cut herself off with a wince. She kept trying to inhale and calm herself down while forgetting about that broken rib. Pushing through, she frowned a little as she glanced down, absently scuffing one booted foot against the floor.

“Speaking of, um. Last week.” She cleared her throat again, shifting to look at LG where the latter had leaned against the wall. Her black-gloved hands fiddled together, feeling her partially-healed knuckles under the dark material. “I’m…” Her throat felt dry all of the sudden. “I’m sorry about… I’m sorry I was… um. The way I was. Near the end, there. I mean I’m sorry you had to see… that.”

She felt she had to apologize. She didn’t like what she’d done, even if maybe she’d had to do it. In any case, the distaste in her voice was palpable at the last word, as if she was talking about some ill-behaved evil twin.

Lightning Girl shook her head, knowing Blackstar was full of doubt, worry, concern. Maybe Sophie should have had more of that herself, but between them, there was nothing to say.

Even in spite of the private worry she had internally, she wouldn’t let it out at all. She wasn’t going to let Blackstar feel bad. Not one bit. That wasn’t happening on her watch.

“Don’t apologize, Blackstar. You saved a lot of lives that day. We all did. Sometimes it isn’t about the means, it’s about the ends. And they really wanted to kill us, so……what choice did we have. A shame we had to live through it but sometimes, being a hero is just doing things most people can’t. We need to try and be strong for them. Even if we’re not inside. And that can be hard.” She replied, gently bending over and picking up a bottle of water, sipping away to replace the electrolytes she’d began to set fire to the moment she started lifting what looked like a weight that would look like to most to have the density of a neutron star.

She didn’t admit to Blackstar that with the last trailing words, yeah, she knew it. Not the same way, but she knew that feeling. The nightmare this morning. Just stewing. Playing it back. Things done different that could have happened. And so on.

“I’m sorry you had to come over and save my stupid arse from being overrun by clowns who wanted to cut me up like a steak. Fucking hell. That was really, really dumb of me. Word of advice, Blackstar, do as I say, not as I do….if I’m going to be some sort of mentor, that shit, that was stupid of me to put myself in that position without thinking.” She retorted, shaking her head, leaning against the wall.

Dividing home her and work her. Was she really not that different? Maybe it was true. The mask didn’t cover much of her face at all, it was literally a cowl from nose to forehead, and with white hair, she stood out like a lemon in an apple orchard. Blackstar maybe saw deeper into that than Sophie would have liked. It was that filter, the thing that stopped the two sides of her crossing. The mask was someone who Sophie wasn’t, and right now, without it, she was realising those two were very much blurring. More than she perhaps had realised they had.

She decided to change the topic rather than talk that over, looking to the kettlebell shaped object between the two of them. Maybe to take things away. Shoved in as awkward as could be, but, it was better than talking last Thursday. For a lot of reasons even LG didn’t want to really dwell on.

“Hmm, on another topic…..and I know you’re not a fan, but do you fancy giving this kettlebell a lift? You look like you’re strong but I was curious what you thought. You know, just in case you need to carry the entire team or something.” Lightning Girl bonked the big thing with her foot, and it made a dull, low-toned donk, as if to justify just how dense it was, with a gentle chuckle, playful as ever, trying to keep the topic diverted and lighter.

Blackstar’s foot kept scuffing absently at the ground as Lightning Girl assured her they’d done what we needed to do, which sometimes meant doing things other people couldn’t. It was oddly reminiscent of what James had been saying earlier last week, when handing her the form for arm severation. Was severation a word?

She shook her head slightly. Was she really being strong for the people who couldn’t be when she just… went psycho on a threat? Maybe that argument worked for the carnival, but what about in Arizona?

“Yeah. Hard,” she mumbled, lost in thought. Remembering the feeling of stabbing into someone so hard that her fists were in his lungs.

LG speaking again pulled her out of her thoughts and Alaine blinked, looking over and immediately shaking her head. “Hey, no, you couldn’t have known there were that many clowns. There were, like, a bazillion of them. I got overwhelmed really quickly at first too, I don’t know where they all came from.”

That question still sat a little uncomfortably in the back of her mind. Who exactly had she been killing, anyway?

She’d almost hit Lightning Girl with one of her energy blades. It was something that had hardly left her mind at all since it happened. What was that lapse? Weariness? Being on edge? What if it was just some horrible, dark part of her that didn’t care what she was aiming at and just wanted to kill?

Alaine didn’t fully comprehend what LG said about the kettlebell, just catching that she’d been asked to lift it. “Hm? Oh, yeah, sure.”

She stepped over, mind successfully distracted as her train of thought shifted. She didn’t know how heavy it was, but it looked like it weighed a ton. She knew for sure she could lift at least two tons when needed, so… of course, it had been a while since she’d had to and she’d never done it while recovering from being beaten to a pulp by clowns.

Alaine huffed a little, lightly kicking at the weight with her boot like she was trying to judge the heft of it before crouching to lift it. Her form was less like someone who knew what they were doing in the gym and more like someone who did a lot of manual labor.

Of course she forgot about her stupid broken rib. She’d only lifted the kettlebell a few inches when she was abruptly reminded of said rib and faltered, biting the inside of her cheek to stifle an undignified sound of pain.

You’re fine, you’re fine, she chanted at herself mentally, huffing and continuing to lift. You have to at least pretend you’re fine, idiot…

“Hah. Heavy,” she mused, adjusting her stance a little and, with some effort, straightening almost completely. But dang it that rib hurt, and she was forced to casually lower the weight again and let it hit the matted floor with a soft thud.

“I could lift it,” she insisted, giving the kettlebell a dirty look. “I think I’m still just a bit tired.” Understatement of the year. “I’ve picked up cars before,” she tacked on, as if further substantiating her claim.

Alaine paused, then added simply, like it was a simple matter of fact, “If I need to pick something up, I’ll pick it up.”

Not minding the change of topic, all things considered, she glanced over at Lightning Girl curiously. This was the second time she’d found the white-haired heroine in the gym, but she wasn’t sure how much of LG’s strength was power-induced and how much was just built muscle. “What’s the heaviest you’ve… lifted?” she asked, not sure about the correct terminology. There were different kinds of lifting, right? Like benching was different than lifting? She really wasn’t too sure.

Lightning Girl chuckled, putting two hands and carefully dragging it along, the thing now beginning to feel heavier in her grip than it had earlier. Blackstar still was hurting a little, that was an unforeseen side effect, but, she had a point, probably given her powers relied on the heat of the moment. Based on at least, everything Sophie had seen so far. She was clearly hurt though. Sophie might have healed faster, but she was lucky enough that with enough electricity, the wound could stitch back up quickly enough. For Blackstar, she was still clearly hurt.

“Heaviest I’ve lifted? Uhh…..good question. It was a real blur, but probably a couple of tonnes. Van drove over someone and I just, uhhh, pushed until someone dragged them away.” Sophie replied, not touching on Alaine’s moves, but well, keeping off that. An interesting question she posed back, mind….

“Well, you know where to find me if you do want to carry things…..weirdly, it’s not my thing that I was…..ever into. Just helps me build a bit of strength I guess so the powers sit nicer. I can’t explain it entirely. None of it really makes sense. I’ve had this 14 years. And I’m still finding out stuff.” She was so matter of fact, not really dwelling too much, not if she wanted to add to her internal monologue of all the insane shit no person should have ever seen.

And as awkward as Blackstar was, in the quiet of the gym, with nobody else, something else leapt into her mind.
Something she’d been meaning to ask, actually, quite a long time. A suspicion she had for a while, the same one she had about Asteroid. Something personal to herself, a projection in a way.

“Blackstar, if you don’t mind me asking, how did you get your powers?”

Alaine blinked.

“How did–” She started and stopped again. “Oh. Well.”

She’d never told anybody, had she? Not aside from John, anyway. Would it hurt? …Well, it’d probably make her look like a hero baby, only having gotten her powers about two years ago while LG had apparently had hers for over a decade.

“Um. I was in–” Alaine started and stopped yet again, not sure how much she should really say. Did it matter that it had happened in Arizona? Maybe not, except that the cartel incident had also been in Arizona. Had LG heard about that? Maybe not, it had been Arizona news but maybe not California news…

Blackstar hesitated. “I was out in the hills, around two years ago. And, um… well.” She huffed out an awkward little laugh. “It’s kind of vague. I don’t really know what happened for sure, there was just… a shooting star? A meteor. I guess technically a meteorite because I think it came down and whacked me in the head. Or something.”

She shrugged, once more favoring that left shoulder slightly. “I woke up in the impact crater. It looked like an impact crater anyway, a little shallow one. Still, if it was enough to do that, I don’t really know how come it didn’t blow me open. Anyway.”

Her boot was scuffing at the floor once more, but that time it was more absent-minded than nervous. “It fried my phone though, and I don’t know how long I was out. I wandered back to some town and–”

And accidentally killed a sweet old man who was just trying to help. And then made the conscious decision to run away and leave him there on the sidewalk.

Alaine went very still and quiet for a second before shaking it off. “The blades just sort of… popped up. I found out I could fly because I had some weird dream and woke up in the air, started experimenting from there.”

She glanced over at LG, wondering if that sounded legitimate enough. It was all the truth, for once, save the lack of detail about the discovery of her cosmic blades and the omission of the exact location.

“Yeah, not very impressive I guess. And not very long ago either.” She huffed out an embarrassed laugh. “Dang, fourteen years for you though, huh? I feel like a baby.”

Sophie laughed on that last comment, smiling as she folded her arms to her gut, leaning against the wall, thinking on that.

Damn, she was really new to this. Two years to be able to do all of that was impressive. Alaine had come a hell of a long way. To go from no powers to a costume in two years, well, that was something immense.

“That is impressive…..wild how fast you got into it!” She smiled, confident as ever, trying her best to big up her new work bestie. And thinking on her own progress. 14 years. It had been a lot of work. No less the time in the forest, the attempts to fly and failing, and constant work. It hadn’t been given easy to her. It felt like making the most out of the power took all the work it did.

“I barely had control two years in so you’re doing well. I could barely project a bolt. I would either just cascade shock everything around me or produce less electricity than an electric fence on contact.The former meant I basically started deflecting people away from me. Which is fun when you’re a teenager.” She added with a sigh thinking back to those times, knowing that Alaine seemed visibly nervous.

So she tried to take some heat and swing it back to her. Not for selfish reasons, more just so Alaine didn’t feel worried. Sophie seemed to astroturf that statement heavily, not giving it the inflection that maybe came with what she had just stated.

It was creeping in more and more. Sophie thought all Americans were so confident, positive mindset people, and yet here she was, from a rainy, cynical country, outdoing them. Was it just what being nearly blonde was like? Or was it her covering her own tracks?

She put that thought out of her mind thinking about the rest of what Alaine had said.

“Yeah, it’s been a while. I guess I had my suspicions, cosmic themed and all. For me, it was a comet fragment that got me, not an asteroid though. Landed in a park back home in Manchester…..then put a bolt through me when I went to look at it. Next thing I know I was in hospital and everything that seems to make a current would be pulled to me. Like it’s a magnetism, it seems to just absorb and my body just seems to…..I’m not sure. Like the more electricity I take on, the more I seem to be alive, but the more volatile I feel. It’s been a long process….taming it was hard. So yeah. You might be a baby relative to me, but honestly, this has been a long process.” She was open about it. “But worth it. There’s no call to the void, yet……it’s I guess just a suspicion I had when I saw you and Asteroid were all astral. And I wondered how it affected you.” She replied, her voice slowing, as if she was getting more contemplative. And all over the place. She needed a stab of power before they went back out, because she was clearly spent from carrying silly heavy weights.

She sighed, looking at her hands.

“Weird isn’t it. Something falls out of the sky and here we are. Never asking, only receiving some of this insane shit. And choosing to do something with it like this.” She chuckled, her fingers crackling a little. “I wasn’t always like this, but here I am I guess.”

Perking up a little when LG started talking about her own origins, Alaine shifted in place a little as she listened. She would’ve gone and leaned against the wall as well, though she didn’t like the idea of leaning on that left shoulder. Besides, she could see Lightning Girl’s face better, standing somewhat across from her. She liked being able to read the other heroine’s expressions without the mask.

She was happy to breeze past the comment about how quickly she’d gotten into it all, herself. Maybe that had been a bit iffy of her to mention… It really was kind of suspicious that she’d only been at it all for two years, give or take, and had already gotten a suit – two, technically – and a job at SDN. That was all John’s doing, of course… Alaine could only hope everyone just assumed she’d somehow done it herself. The one thing he’d made sure she knew was that, if anyone asked, he didn’t exist.

Alaine kept her mouth shut on the topic of not being in control, thinking it probably wasn’t a good idea to mention that she wasn’t entirely sure she was in control herself, actually. Definitely wouldn’t be smart to mention she’d nearly flung a cosmic blade at Lightning Girl during the clown fighting, either.

A pained smile slipped across her face briefly at the mention of a “call to the void”. God, if LG only knew.

“...Huh. You’ve been calling Asteroid my doppleganger, but it sounds like we’re some sort of cosmic sisters with that origin story,” Alaine mused, her smile softening into something a little more genuine, a little more at ease. “Weirdly similar… I never saw any fragments of whatever hit me, though. If something did hit me. I’m just kind of assuming.”

For all she knew, the darn thing was embedded inside her somewhere. She hadn’t been to a doctor or gotten an X-Ray since it had happened and she wasn’t about to, so it’d probably just be a mystery forever as far as she was concerned.

Alaine squirmed just a little, a subconscious movement when Lightning Girl mused about wondering how the astral stuff had affected her.

“Yeah,” she huffed out a faint laugh, amused by LG’s phrasing at the end. “I guess.”

She hesitated a second, internally debating, before piping up again. Gesturing at the white-haired heroine with one gloved finger, she asked slowly, “So, you’re… you’re having to consciously control all that energy, all the time? Does it ever – I mean, if you don’t mind me asking – does it ever, sort of…”

Ah, how to describe it. Alaine frowned a little as she tried to figure out how to word it. “I don’t know. Does it ever drive you crazy?”

Sophie gave a rare sigh, almost as if suddenly, Alaine had found a corner of the armour that she hadn’t been wearing up. Like nobody asked that question the way a hero did. James had, doctors, family, anyone who realised she had that power in her veins. But it was like nobody had actually come in that close.

But in a strange way, through her own pain, Sophie hoped Blackstar might understand her own. Fear less. Worry less. Understand this was a shared experience. And one maybe she was a few years beyond in this process.

She sat down and leaned against the wall, legs sprawled out as she looked up. “When I go home, I just push all of what’s inside me into an earthing point. The static pours out of me without much drama. It’s why I don’t shock people when I’m not like this, and I guess, I got used to it. But when I do, I push out all of the energy that makes me…..well, larger than the sum of my parts. It’s the same when I’m spent. Or if I really, really throw a lot of power at something. Like I nearly did at Tsunami. It just….goes to ground. Being maximalist is easy when you’re wired up with more energy than you know what to do with.” She began, sighing, shaking her head.

“Then once it goes, I’m normal. At least until my body starts creating current on its own, it’s like how your nervous system produces bioelectricity, except, it seems to do that on a much, much quicker scale. Like everything about me. So as long as I ground myself regularly, I’m fine. Moment I don’t, I naturally build up to enough electricity to taze most people on contact. Which was a problem until I realised I had to put effort into grounding. But that’s not the worst of it.” She continued, looking right at Alaine, chuckling, shaking her head. Revealing her neck, and her hair, and the bits that her collar would have covered- going down to the top of her back where a braid of river-like lichtenburg scars seemed to foam like a delta.

“I’ve lost all the colour in my hair, got scars all over, and my body metabolises in a way that makes no sense. The more I sit here working out, the more my body seems to be able to take without making me want to pass out when I’m throwing bolts, because it’s like it’s transferring from a battery to a circuit I can make with anything I focus on, whenever I want. And everything else. But it’s constantly a fight because the moment I stop physically working, my body’s capacity to that is limited. My energy I can control when it’s close in. But electricity as a force is wild, untamed, and it doesn’t pick what it goes to when everything’s a resistor, Blackstar, it will find the easiest path when it wants. It doesn’t drive me crazy. It just means I have to be a lot of different people and wear the same face. The mask is a divider.” She breathed, shaking her head. Trying to think how to explain it.

“It’s like…..when the power’s in, it’s vivid. I can see colour, it’s like synesthesia. Makes me feel like I’m more alive, so much more……substantive. Like every part of me, amplifies up. What you’re seeing is who I am, just turned up to a thousand. Like I can think faster but get to the same ending I would normally. When I’m not, I’m like anyone else. And while I want to be Sophie, I suppose I can’t be her if I’m moving this quickly..” She mused, taking a bottle of water from the side. Exhaling. A name drop too. Not that at this point it felt like Lightning Girl had much left to hide.

Well, shit. She hadn’t expected to dump that out.

“I guess I didn’t have a choice. I end up being this thing and doing good with it, or……and, you have to admit, electricity is a hell of a fucking villain power. I mean come on, if you could do this, you’d find a way to scare kids.” She shocked a nearby pipe with a bolt, her usual party trick, a flash near blinding but enough to prove the point. “So yeah. Fun.” Sophie shook her head, sipping a little more water away, thinking back to Alaine’s earlier comment.

“Maybe we’re more similar, you’re right. Sisters. Hah. Maybe. Asteroid, Comet, same big unknown rock that makes us……superhuman I guess. But if it’s any advice from me….all of this gets better. You have to find what works for you. It’s a blessing and a curse. It doesn’t matter where it comes from, I think, just remember that if you can do good, inspire people, then you’re doing more than most with what you’ve been given. But make it work for you so you can live with yourself. Don’t fight it all the way. And don’t let it run you over. Find peace with it. It’ll never get easier. But you can make yourself stronger, Blackstar.” She shook her head, chuckling. “I guess I’m just what people want to see me as. White hair meant white costume. Besides. Yellow was taken by Wasp-Man in Manchester. Yes. It is that dumb.” She shook her head, sipping water down, sighing.

“Sorry. No easy answer to if it drives me crazy or not as I don’t know any different. But, silver lining, I have always got your back if your phone needs charging.” She chuckled, giving a double finger guns, and a wink, making her laugh through her trauma dump a little more.

Alaine tilted her head, listening with a thoughtful expression on what was visible of her face. She hadn’t expected so much information. But, as someone who enjoyed knowing things – she wasn’t complaining. Besides, it was nice to learn more about LG. Despite the fact that they were talking about the superpowers that made them something beyond human – it humanized the white-haired heroine.

Sophie. Alaine blinked. Had LG meant to tell her that? Or had it just slipped out, like she’d let her own name slip with Jet? She didn’t say anything for the moment, not wanting to interrupt.

Lightning Girl – Sophie – said she supposed she hadn’t had a choice. Alaine wondered how many heroes ever had.

She studied the lichtenburg scars peeking out from under the other heroine’s collar, finding it odd that Sophie’s powers had come from some cosmic fragment, yet ended up making her look like she’d been struck by lightning. That would’ve been Alaine’s guess, honestly, if someone had asked her how she thought LG got her powers – a lightning strike, or some kind of crazy storm.

The fact she’d gained her explosive powers from some comet fragment made Alaine wonder just how much about the cosmos there was yet to know – for herself, and for humanity as a whole.

All of this gets better. Alaine’s pale eyes shifted upward, watching Sophie’s unmasked face again as the white-haired heroine went on. Inspiring, just like she always seemed to be. Alaine thought that was probably just who Sophie was.

And she did feel inspired, there was just… something… off. Not with Sophie or what she was saying – more like something off in Alaine’s own chest. Like she wanted to say “yeah, I can do that!”, but something in her, deep down, knew she couldn’t. Or knew, at least, that she’d messed up too big already to ever be able to live with herself.

Alaine swallowed, keeping the thought a thought for the time being rather than vocalizing it. “...Yellow, huh?” She grinned slightly. “That’d definitely look good with the white hair. Most colors would, actually.”

She fiddled absent-mindedly with her black-gloved hands, adding in amusement, “If you do ever feel like going bad guy, though, give me a heads up so I can conveniently retire.”

Lightning Girl as a villain would kick her ass, probably immediately. Alaine didn’t fancy getting toasted.

She hesitated briefly then, finally, moved a little closer and carefully lowered herself to sit on the mat nearby. Not leaning up against the wall, but still a friendly distance. Alaine crossed her legs, now fiddling absently with the top of one of her boots as she spoke again.

“And, uh… thank you. For the encouragement. And the advice. I know I’ve just kind of been standing there whenever you’ve talked to me about this hero stuff, but… I just…” She shrugged honestly. “I don’t know what to say. I’m not exactly great with words. But–”

She glanced over at Sophie. The black lenses of her mask hid her eyes, but she hoped the white-haired woman could feel her appreciation anyway. “–Thank you, Sophie, I mean it. I really appreciate it. …Finding peace with, um… whatever’s…” She made a vague motion at herself, indicating her powers. “...That might be harder said than done, but I’m trying.”

Her hand dropped, briefly sinking to rest over her ribs before she shifted it away and went back to tapping at the side of her boot.

She wanted to say more. But she knew what would happen if she did – or at least she convinced herself she knew.

Alaine shook her head a little. “...The scars are cool, by the way. I’m assuming that came from the comet and not you accidentally lightning-striking yourself?” She paused, frowning curiously. “Can you even zap yourself?”

Sophie chuckled, shaking her head. It didn’t quite work like that, but, from someone that wasn’t in her shoes, who she was showing this all to, the inner workings of the thing that had transformed her life from just some regular girl into this woman that now had the ability to put a quick end to anyone she came into contact with, and the ability to fly.

“Uhhhh, not quite. Yeah, the scars were from the comet. Not from shocking myself, but I guess it’s because my skin is all a conductor. I mean, when I do this…” She stood up and walked across to the cable tucked out of the way, and yoinked on it, realising it was probably time to get back upstairs soon and go. Visible was better than anything, the high voltage, three phase cable an industrial one someone had routed through here and LG had managed to….splice for her own supply. Matt got a solid supply of tea if he didn’t report it to building management.

With cable in hand, she shoved it against her side and suddenly animated, eyes turning white, a faint halo and the smell of ozone erupting, as she then threw it back down, having drawn enough in. She tucked it out of the way and placed a rubber cap on the end as she’d botched it before, knowing full well that if that hit Blackstar, it would probably hurl her across the room. If it hit her heart, it would kill her. On an Alternating Current, the electricity would normally hurl someone away- particularly a high voltage, three phase supply that was designed to make sure an entire building got power, not just a house.

“That is a bit better. So now, I’m very, very live compared to before..”

She walked across, sitting back down on the mat it as she thought back to the earlier comments. The scars from all of this were a painful reminder. Sophie didn’t see it as pretty, so she found it amusing that someone else looked past her face and found it to be neat.

She’s trying to be sweet, Sophie, because she’s clearly scared of letting you down.

Scared? She wasn’t sure but like Felix, maybe just shy. But something was certainly up. Like Blackstar had something inside of her she wasn’t sure if she wanted to show. She was new, so maybe she was scared of making mistakes. Or showing something she didn’t want to. It was understandable, everyone had that fear, but even so, if Lightning Girl’s face was on the side of a bus, she was billed up as this premier heroine, why did it feel like even without the suit, without the mask, there was still that inertia inside the dark-haired heroine opposite her?

Maybe like Felix, eventually, she’d loosen her hair a little with time. But then again, Sophie knew that if the mask hadn’t slipped when she was at the carnival, maybe she’d have been a little tighter with things too herself.

“All you can do is try, Blackstar. That’s what being a hero is about. Doing the best we can. If you like, I can mentor you a little. But, I can help you. Even if I can’t sometimes help myself get things wrong. That’s what friends are for. But I think you’re already going to kick my ass because you’re good at this work already. So don’t worry, I wouldn’t want to be bad because I know you’d absolutely mess my day up.” She smiled, and laughed, reassuring, knowing it wasn’t going to help, but Blackstar needed a softer approach. Someone to gently pull her in, and well, give her a bit of a mentor.

“Though maybe don’t mention my name to anyone else. I don’t mind work and personal mixing but maybe not just yet.” She chuckled, shaking her head, Sophie knowing that it was an accident about the name, but the genie was firmly out of the bottle. She was tempted to ask about where Blackstar came from, given the accent, and it definitely wasn’t local. Talk about something else. But she wasn’t comfortable talking given that meant James would be brought up. And again, whilst it was a secret that was going to eventually spill, ideally when one of them left, she’d rather not talk about it given she was a professional. And did not want to give up any ideas that he had any bias towards her. Which he didn’t. Right?

She shrugged, looking to the horizon, then back at Blackstar. “I wonder……the dark energy blades on your arms, how did you find out you could use them that way? Sorry, I guess I never met another heroine that had cosmic powers. Same with Asteroid, actually. I mean, dark energy seems like it could be volatile. People can barely find it in a particle accelerator. And you seem to make it stick to you. How does it feel?” She asked, looking to Blackstar’s arms. “Have you tried doing anything else with the dark matter? Like the blades are cool, but I wonder what else you could do. I heard it’s like anti-gravity. Literally a force like it wants to spit out how we see reality whole.” Almost more out of curiosity, or at the least, to get her thinking about it. The power was relatively new- and Sophie hadn’t been able to fly until a few years in. She hadn’t been able to use an EMP-like blast until the last few, requiring a hell of a lot of energy to just smash bulbs and make circuits overload by making it all eyes on her. At the carnival, she had given it a small try, but even she wondered what was possible. Who knew what Blackstar could do, as a teeny bit of Sophie’s dorkery began to emit, the bit of her that James’s influence had absolutely crept it on.

Alaine had jumped a little when Lightning Girl shocked herself – or, rather, to be more accurate: sucked in electricity from that cable she’d noticed earlier. It made her look like some kind of angel for a second, all glowy and vibrant. Her eyes glowed but it looked warm, at least to Alaine. Not the cold, smoking light from her own eyes when she was invested in her powers, which just looked… otherworldly. Again, at least in her own opinion.

Sophie’s powers, although cosmically-induced, seemed comfortingly terrestrial. Alaine wasn’t sure where Jet’s powers had come from – she should ask – but even with his spacey theme, it felt similar to Lightning Girl in that it was familiar. They were all familiar with gravity, they’d all seen lightning, the science behind both was well-known and stuff you learned in grade school.

But her? She was foreign, even to herself.

Briefly tugged into memories of dreams or nightmares she’d been having since it all started, Alaine was pulled from her reverie as Sophie came back over, sinking back to the mat again while shimmering faintly like the sunlight in the high atmosphere.

She managed a lopsided little grin as the other heroine assured her the ass-kicking situation was the other way around, and Alaine shrugged slightly. “Well, I’ll take all the help I can get.”

At the mention of not spilling the white-haired heroine’s name Alaine was quick to nod, expression briefly turning serious again. “Nobody keeps a secret better than me,” she returned, remembering last second to smile and bob her head light-heartedly; that said, there was something almost eerily somber in her tone, like she wasn’t kidding at all.

Despite her attempts to look casual, LG’s next question made Alaine freeze for a beat. Like someone in an interrogation room who’d just been told that one critical piece of evidence had been found.

She swallowed thickly, reminding herself to breathe as Lightning Girl went on, musing about the dark energy Blackstar used with a curious tone.

…The dark energy blades on your arms, how did you find out you could use them that way?

She could see it in her head, as clear and sharp as if it had happened right before she walked into the gym.

Stumbling along in the early morning hours, feeling like she’d been asleep for three days straight, the rising sun stinging her eyes. Some kind of foreign drone in her head, in her blood, an odd tugging sensation in her veins, heavy confusion. A silhouette at the end of the alley, concerned eyes and wrinkled hands reaching out to help. Her own shaky hands reaching out in return, scared, desperate–

“...It just – happened.” Alaine cleared her throat, realizing her voice sounded a bit strained. She looked down at her lap, avoiding looking at LG as the fidgeting returned full-force. “I wasn’t trying to do it.”

The way she said it was less like someone recalling a memory and more like someone pleading to be believed.

She cleared her throat again, like that would help. Blinked quickly several times under her mask, trying to will away the inevitable twinkling in the corners of her vision that rose at the memories.

“It’s not sticking to me exactly, it’s… it’s inside me. It’s less like it’s sticking to me and more like it’s just… manifesting.” She remembered trying to explain it to John once, a few months ago. She hadn’t been able to describe it very well then, and as this was the second time she was attempting it, she doubted she’d do any better. Especially since it wasn’t like she understood it herself.

As for how it felt? She really didn’t know how to answer that, so for the moment she skipped to the next inquiry. “I haven’t really tried to do anything else with it, no.” The next admission slipped out without her pre-considered approval, and was more of a sullen mumble. “...All it does is destroy things.”

What was the point of experimenting? Learning new ways to kill and maim people? Alaine had enough on her conscience.

She took a breath, remembering that time to keep it short and not expand her lungs so much that it bothered her rib. “As for, uh… how it feels…” She trailed off, debating it mentally. “It’s… like…”

Her fingers flexed absently. “...It’s like a lot of things,” she said finally, though she knew that wasn’t very illustrative. “It takes anything I feel and runs with it. Especially the closer I let it get. I see them all the time, they’re always screaming something at me.”

Alaine blinked, feeling her face go a little warm as she realized that probably sounded more than a little crazy. “The, um. The stars, I mean.”

Ah, now she really felt stupid. Stars didn’t talk. Sophie was going to think she was insane and hearing voices.

Maybe she was, though.

“It’s like Jekyll and Hyde,” she tacked on, although that felt lame and still like the wrong comparison. Her powers weren’t some separate entity in her head, like she wanted to believe they were. When she did horrible things, there wasn’t anyone else pulling the strings in her mind. She was still fully present the whole time, if a little overwhelmed.

That was what made it so awful.

“Okay, well, not exactly. It’s just… it’s just like there’s something there, besides me – but it is me. It’s in my blood, I feel it there. It’s there now, tugging. It tugs. Upwards, usually. That feeling helped me figure out I could fly, but, at the same time, it’s – disorienting. Stars are…”

Alaine bit the inside of her cheek for a second. “...Violent.”

She was still avoiding looking directly at Sophie. “I, uh – I’m sorry, I know that doesn’t make a lot of sense. It’s hard to explain in human words.” You are human, idiot. “I mean you understand it better when you’re… it. Stars feel more than they talk.” Wow, that was such a normal human thing to say.

Memories of her dreams prodded at the back of her mind, scenes of floating in the endless cosmos and feeling like she was supposed to be a star, but wasn’t. It was an odd mirror of what she felt like there, a lot of the time – like she was supposed to be a human but… wasn’t. Not quite.

It was stressing her out. Sitting on the floor like that was making her think of sitting in her apartment, and her rib was really starting to protest the position – especially as her breathing started to quicken slightly.

The constant stars twinkled like looming, brilliant vultures and she winced, feeling that cosmic energy starting to prickle in her veins. She was going to start spiraling again. A star without an orbit.

“I need to find J–” Alaine started abruptly, only to swiftly correct herself mid-name. “--ames. J…ames. James. I think I forgot to fill in my timesheet for yesterday.”

Guilt stabbed at her chest for lying to Sophie, even if it wasn’t like it was a really important lie. She didn’t need James, she needed Jet. She felt like a pathetic little cosmic leech, spending that past week of work reaching for that personal gravity of his whenever she’d started to lose it… which was way, way more than usual.

Dang it, she’d been doing so much better. She never used to get those stupid panic attacks when she was younger, and then it had been so, so bad after Arizona. She’d been getting better, especially over the past year, but last Thursday seemed to have majorly set her back. She could only hope it was just a temporary thing and wouldn’t take as long as last time to get better.

Jet helped. He didn’t know it, but he did – and she couldn’t help it. She hadn’t had him last time, she hadn’t had anyone. It had been horrible. She didn’t want to feel like that again.

“We should probably get moving, anyway,” she added, trying to sound casual and not move too fast as she carefully got to her feet again. “I’m sure we’ll be getting a debrief here before long.”

She hesitated, then offered Lightning Girl a black-gloved hand to help her up. She realized a second too late that might be tricky with all the electricity the other heroine had just sucked in, but she wasn’t about to pull her hand back then.

“And – I mean it, really,” she added, looking sincerely at Sophie. “Thank you. For all the support and advice, it’s… it’s nice. It really means a lot to me.”

Sophie reached across to where her gym bag was, and scooped one of her gloves on, before crawling over and taking her hand. In what would have seemed a bit of an awkward pause, but one that she knew was probably best. Safety first, Blackstar!

She took the hand and clambered up, nodding as she reached over and grabbed the bag, hucking it over her shoulder. “Yeah, we should probably get moving. And don’t worry about it. It’s what heroes do, Blackstar.” She winked, giggling a little, pointing to the changing rooms, knowing she had to get dressed and return back to costume. “Right, I need to go get changed. Catch you later, alligator.” Sophie smiled, turning her head over her shoulder, her hair following as the white-clad heroine thought to finish up their earlier chat.

“And don’t worry about explaining it either. We also wouldn’t be superhuman if there wasn’t something odd about us.” Sophie smiled, trying to pass off her reaction to earlier, before splitting away.

Blackstar was still nervous, Sophie thought. Like really, really nervous. Had Sophie poked something inside her, deeper than maybe she should have. Was it something she was trying to hide? And if so, how bad could it possibly be? All heroes had issues, fuck, half the team were Phoenix Programme, actual, legit, criminals? So what had she done that she was so worried about? Was it impressing people, or was it she’d gone around mass murdering as a hobby? Or worse? Sophie didn’t know. And couldn’t, but something sat with her, but heading into a booth, she sighed, thinking that today was the last day of the week, but man, it was a half day and yet all paid. And she’d get to meet Quickdraw. And she’d get to finally go to Hollywood. Not as a tourist, but as a heroine. Though she wasn’t sure how the others may react to that.

Alaine started grinning a little in spite of herself at the brief pause between her extending her hand and Sophie taking it – though she did appreciate the effort taken to avoid a workplace accident form.

She huffed in faint amusement at that last comment, though she thought it was more like something was wrong with her than just “odd”. Still, she also appreciated the easy way LG handled it – not pressuring, not making Alaine feel like she was being interrogated. Sophie seemed good at that.

“Right. In a while, crocodile,” Alaine returned naturally, momentarily reminded of parting ways with her sisters and how it almost always ended in some silly phrase like that. She shook the nostalgia off. “Good luck with your dispatches today.”

With one last glance after the white-haired heroine, Alaine took a breath and turned to head back upstairs.

---

Upon arriving at the breakroom on her own, having left LG to change out of her gym set and back into her suit, Blackstar perched herself next to Asteroid immediately. Whether he was already there or she had to wait for him to arrive, he'd find her coming to sit next to him either way.

While James microwaved his hamburger -- a sad state for a hamburger to be in -- and Lightning Girl eventually arrived to debate the healthiness of it, Alaine quietly pulled her backpack around to her lap and dug around for a moment before finding what she was looking for. Producing a red and black teddy, she gently set it on the breakroom table in front of Asteroid.

"Lightning Girl found our stash," she explained, trying to sound casual about it.

Not like, upon receiving the recovered tote bag the other day, she'd had her first non-essential outing in probably a year to go get all the stuffed animals cleaned up and given a little something extra. The cute bow collar for LG's puppy -- and some extra stuffing for the red and black bear, who was also now wearing a light gold chain. It wasn't an actual expensive chain, just the sort of thing used for jewelry-making, but it looked enough like the one Jet had been wearing at the bar the previous week. She'd had to call Grace to figure out where to purchase such an item, as well as get her younger sister to walk her through how to do the stuffing and stitching. She may or may not have had a bandaid or two on under her gloves, due to her extreme rustiness with using a needle.

Alaine knew she could've just left the bear at Jet's locker, like she had with the fish food, and he'd probably have to go drop it off at his locker before dispatches anyway -- but she'd wanted to actually give it to him.

She adjusted the chain around the teddy's neck then sat back, tossing Asteroid a small grin. "Better take good care of him or I'll take you to court for custody."

"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."

The SDN LA County Annual Gala. Aw, shoot. She'd forgotten about that -- and hadn't actually thought she'd need to remember, because she hadn't expected she'd be invited. Probably would've helped her mentally if she'd checked Slack like he mentioned...

When James looked around at his A-Team she managed a strained smile and a double-thumbs up, trying not to look like he'd just announced the worst thing ever. Dress formally. How was she supposed to do that? Wear the one t-shirt and jeans she'd just washed the blood out of? Oh God. She'd have to call John.

Or -- no, scratch that. She was a little nervous about calling John at the moment. During the week she'd received a text from him on her second phone, which had turned into a call that nearly made her melt through the floor with anxiety. Lots of warnings about how similar the clown carnage looked to the cartel incident, questions about why she'd done it, how -- trying to make sure she was in control of it and not the other way around, which she'd struggled to answer.

All in all, he'd seemed a touch tense with her. She'd been left feeling like a scolded dog. Calling him up to ask if he could produce her some formal attire in a couple of hours felt like a bad idea.

Plus, she was so... picky. It was why her mom had given up trying to go clothes-shopping with her when she was probably fourteen. There was no way John would be able to find something, first try and on such short notice, that she'd be able to stand wearing for a couple of hours. No, she'd just have to figure it out on her own.

Before she started getting too upset about the situation, Blackstar swiveled her attention to other things. Like Lightning Girl producing yarn and crochet hooks to start working on something pink and grey. The amount of times she'd seen Grace sitting around, crocheting away with a huge bag full of yarn sat next to her... For a split second, she could almost imagine that was Grace sitting over there, not so far away at all.

But she blinked and the vision was gone, leaving Lightning Girl with her half-finished project. Alaine let out a quiet breath and fiddled with the straps of her backpack in her lap. She might've tried for a little light conversation with the others while they waited for the first of their dispatches to come rolling in, but she felt like she'd used up her conversation battery for the day with Lightning Girl down in the gym, at least for the time being. Instead she leaned back in her seat, stifling a yawn and stretching out her legs to rest a bit in the meantime with Asteroid's calming gravity next to her. Even a few minutes of "resting" was relieving after the monumental lack of sleep she'd had so far that week.

---

Lampshades on Fire - Modest Mouse

Asteroid was fully suited up in his normal uniform, Rey had dropped him off at the front door like a parent nervous for their kid’s first day. It’d been one hell of a week, Jet spending the majority of it stretched out on his best friend’s couch. At one point on the second day, Rey’s mom had dropped by. That old woman scared Jet on a good day. But when she came in and saw a beat and bloodied Jet on her son’s couch?

Oh she was an unhappy woman.

Her son, she’d only relatively recently gotten back from the prison system?

Jet’s almost sure Ms. Margrove did more damage with her purse than most of the clowns could do with a baseball bat. The thought made him shiver and refocus on the present. From the shared work terminal he watched as James rounded a corner headed for his desk.

Quickly- he hits print. He’s hoping to catch up with his supervisor and check in. Last week he didn’t get to his timesheet after the clown-tastrophe. With three broken ribs, how could he? James hadn’t ribbed him about it yet, and he was still trying to make up for his slip of judgement with the old knitting ladies.

Like sure- it probably was harmless. But as a person from the UK- he wasn’t sure just how familiar James was with MJ as a substance. So- regardless of the habits he may have had in the past- he was an SDN hero now.

Which- like James said during the briefing- carried a lot of weight. That weight felt heavy on his body in general since the fight. He didn’t know where that left the team. He’d been going through the team slack when a photo had appeared. A selfie of an- Egyptian Goddess-like figure? They were working with demigods now?

Where did that leave the rest of the team?

As he hurries after James, his eyes catch on the leaderboard in the common area. His name hasn’t moved a ton on the board since the team’s comments at the bar. But, did that mean anything when your team couldn’t prevent what was likely the largest mass casualty event in recent memory in L.A.?

He hoped so. He needed this job.

Turning away from the board, he sees Raul standing in front of a weirdly smudged looking wall. He makes a mental note to stop by to see if he needs any help.

But first, the timesheet.

He approaches James’ desk- and in real time he can see his soul die- just a little bit. James’ is peering over the wall to glare at Martha- the HR lady in their section of the building. A chuckle rises in his throat.

”What’d Martha do to you? He’s smirking, but he’s wearing his mask so what does it matter?

Their team’s tiny kitten bumbles around James’ desk, getting comfortable- and surprisingly ignoring the new plushie desk ornament he’s got. Jet leans over, cooing at Felix, rubbing between his ears with three fingers.

Jet pulls out his paperwork from under his arm, and sets it in what he presumes is James’ incoming mail slot. ”I put the values in too- but I know they like to have paper copies of stuff, so I just hit print while I was standing there.” It’s an overexplanation. A desperate plea to be taken seriously by the person who was the first line of defense for his job.

Asteroid takes advantage of his full face mask, and really looks at James up close for the first time. He looks like someone who takes himself just a bit too seriously- Jet can relate- but that because of that has really made it. It makes his chest squeeze. Would his father be proud of him if he had a fancy consulting job like James’?

No- the only career his father approved of was banking.

Afterall, how else was Jet supposed to take their family to the next level of wealth? Not that they needed any more fucking money. Memories of his mother draped in beautiful gowns adorned with- her favorite- pearls.

”What’s the- mask situation for the gala? I wasn’t really sure how that would go-” Jet trails off awkwardly. He knows that a lot of guys would look at him sideways for worrying about something like that so far ahead of time. But there was something about the way that James dressed himself that made Jet think he might not even blink twice at the question. Plus- this is the kind thing you were supposed to ask your supervisor- right?

Asteroid turns to face the breakroom, remembering that his sewing kit is stashed in one of the upper cabinets. With- directions to the next payphone he’s supposed to take his mother’s call. Strangely- it was probably the safest place he’s ever put a print out like that. ”You meet Ikret yet? She’s got a really interesting- look?” He very nearly says costume, but then becomes immediately worried disrespect like that would cause a smiting of Jets of sorts.

---

Asteroid is the first one in the breakroom, he’s after his sewing kit. He reaches above the fridge, and finds the solid clear blue case right where he left it. Inside is a folded up print out of google maps- directions from the post office by his place to the payphone he should expect a call at.

He pops the case open ”This weekend, good thing I had a shift today.” His tone is anything but jovial.

Tossing his meal prep in the fridge, he takes a chair beside the table. That’s where he starts counting safety pins inside the kit, doing mental math on the number of people who were going to need their pants hemmed at the last minute before the Gala.

"Lightning Girl found our stash," she explained, trying to sound casual about it.

When Blackstar lands in the chair beside him, he is surprised that he doesn’t jump at the new intrusive presence. He’d been a bit jumpy since he was in prison. The realization feels a little like the feeling of driving down a large hill fast. A swoop starting above his heart and landing in his gut.

His mouth opens and closes at the sight of the bear he’d fully intended to give to her. It looks different. Its black and red fur looks extra stuffed, and a new- gold chain? Hangs from its neck. Being in the building, his gloves aren’t on, so when he reaches forward to touch the chain he’s able to hook the tip of his finger into one of the links.

"Better take good care of him or I'll take you to court for custody."

Jet can’t help it, he tries, but a laugh breaks out of him. It’s bright, happy, and it lasts- for about a second before he doubles over. His left hand presses against the right side of his rib cage, the act of laughing being a bit too much muscle activity for his not-quite-mended bones.”And here I was filling out paperwork for child- er- bear support. I wasn’t even expecting joint custody.”

He wishes he was looking at her- at Alaine’s eyes. Not the expressionless portals of her mask. He hopes she understands- but presses because he can’t afford it. He can’t afford her to get the wrong impression here.

The man beneath the Asteroid costume leans forward, close enough to whisper, but not close enough to alert suspicion if anyone were to come in.”Alaine- I won this for you.” His voice is steady- but quiet. Soft- but sure. ”It reminded me of you. But now- he reminds me- of me?” There is surprise and may just a little bit of embarrassment in his voice as he examines the chain.

Whatever she says doesn’t really matter for what he says next- ”You’ll just have to give me the opportunity to win you another.”

Jet leans back slowly when LG walks in, but he finds himself examining her in every gravitational equation he can come up with in the room. If he wanted to pull her chair closer to him- he’d only have to apply this much force, in this vector, and apply this much to account for the friction of the chair legs. That would cause one of her thighs to land just between his. And if he moved the table in tha-

His brain is a mess of Alaine flavored equations when Ikret walks in. The new face shakes him free for a few moments. “Hey- welcome to the team.” He reaches forward and offers them a fist bump. He hopes their casual nature extends to expressions of greeting like this, and he’s not about to learn that a fist bump is some sort of grave error against a goddess.

James’ speech knocks Jet off his footing for a moment.

Enjoy yourselves when you go. After what happened last week....heroes don't always get the recognition they deserve, but you all absolutely do.

Asteroid is a joke when stacked up next to the room of heroes around him, and fuzzy memories of clowns beating the shit out of him seem to prove that to his subconscious. But he nods along and offers a bit of a clap in response to James’ pep talk.

”Must be quite strange for your first day on the team to end with a Gala dinner?” It’s genuine- he’s pretty sure he’d have had a heart attack if it were him. He’s sure he would have shown up out of costume, and that makes him sweaty.

Hat Trick walked up to the police line and dumped not one, not two, not three or four, but six alive...heavily beaten but alive clowns. Freshly beaten no less. He sighs and dumps them at the back door to one of the prison wagons. He growls, "There's quite a few more in there. If you're people go on a sweep look for where parking signs should be, I made sure to place the ones I could find again near them." I dusted his hands off, then headed over to where the team is gathered, "Well that was a good day don't you think? Little fun, and then a lot of fun."

The big bruiser groans and stretches, "Civvies safe, Clowns and Clown Prime defeated. What else is there to do? Oh!"

Tyler Ermineskin whips out his phone and begins to post up updates for the Socials.

As people head back to the Office the big hockey fella, actually calls a cab, not bothering to skate back again. Everyone looks like they'd been through the wringer.



He hurts.

Aches even.

So much pain!

Adrenaline is a helluva drug. He'd limped into the SDN building that morning, the tension of the fighting and all. He leaned back in the chair he'd claimed. Opening his eyes and peering at James, "Atleast put some back bacon on that thing to make it worth eatting!" He called to James when he pulled that burger out of the microwave.

He groaned and stretched in his seat, tensing up then trying to stretch his body from head to toe. Until a rather audbile pop in his shoulders and back, "Ohhh hell yes."

Then asked, "So, half a shift of Dispatches then? or just go running off to the Gala?"

He nods, "Fine, but the Gala ought to be fun. Black Tie huh? Let's see how many people actually show up like that. I can wear one of my "Power Suits" Hat Trick laughed then skipped to his feet, "Oh damn I need to go and stretch, still so achey!"

Friday
12:45
James's Desk
SDN Claremont

Paper Trail

@SonnetNSunbeam

It had been a long morning. And the lunch was still continuing, not that James had stopped. Not since he had two jobs to do and his pay to get. James was typing away on his personal consultancy laptop, but his thoughts were interrupted as the black-suited, gravity controlling hero caught him by surprise, a moment of panic.

”What’d Martha do to you? He’s smirking, but he’s wearing his mask so what does it matter?

James sighed realising who it was, turning in his chair, trying to keep his serious face on yet releasing a chuckle as he seemed to release. Ah, yeah, it was Asteroid. Ah, of course. He was meant to bring his timesheet over, that was way, way overdue. That would be it.

"Oh, hey, Asteroid. Holy shit you caught me there. Forgot how light footed you can be. Well, I think it's more what I've done to her. I think she wasn't expecting me to put her through this many forms after the Carnival. Which we're still doing. Copious amount of paperwork for a mass casualty event. It's not just you."

James chuckled, shaking his head seeing Blackstar about to draw his own papers, leaning forwards, his tone of voice dropping in volume.

"And between us, I think she mindreads. Nod twice if I'm thinking of cats, Martha....." James peered over the parapet, seeing Martha do nothing at all bar stay buried at her PC, as he sighed, shaking his head, wondering if that trick would ever work, looking back at Asteroid with a certain look of disappointment. "Never works."

Jet pulls out his paperwork from under his arm, and sets it in what he presumes is James’ incoming mail slot. ”I put the values in too- but I know they like to have paper copies of stuff, so I just hit print while I was standing there.” It’s an overexplanation. A desperate plea to be taken seriously by the person who was the first line of defense for his job.

James peeled his hand across and skimmed, shrugging.

"Eh. It'll be fine. Paper is helpful though for Phoenix Programme stuff. You really don't want to know how painful timesheets are. We all have to do it though...." James seemed almost nonchalant, as if he was thinking on what Sophie said earlier this morning. Blackstar had been nice the other Thursday, before all shit hit the fan. And they were nice people. But he had to be professional. Keep his distance, even if that meant sometimes pushing away when someone was pushing in. He could be polite, at least.

He did glance at that leaderboard behind him. And the names on it, the A-Team doing well for Claremont considering, well, it made sense given they were the premier team of this suburban, boring branch. One of the few things Kat and James had argued with management over, it was stupid, a piece of 70s tech that needed to be ripped out, that served little purpose other than ego. But they insisted, James admitting, hey, for some people, that stat was important. A-Team were doing good, very well, all things considered. They were up against the rest of LA, and while the results were promising, thanks to James's knowledge, it wouldn't last forever. And especially not when the team was chopping and changing. Altering. Shifting like sands. Ikret seemed to be quite a metaphor, as James looked back at Asteroid, watching as the hero was eyeing him up. Sizing him up.

Wondering who was in there. James knew they must have had their questions. Why was a consultant in charge of the team's dispatching? How was it he didn't have powers? And really, James should have been developing them out. But James took him in, in reverse. He was clearly confident, had something about himself, had a swagger, but that amount of prison time and still being normal, damn, it was impressive. But he had that fear. That slight nerve. That and coming out swinging in all of this. He really wanted this, he had to have a reason. Whatever that was, James didn't want to read too much into it. His KPIs were keeping crime low and non-compliances that way too. Asteroid was ticking that for him.

Even if the astral hero might not have known that entirely, as James leaned back, nodding in a confident pose, knowing he was trying to strike conversation over something even he found mundane.

"Appreciate that though. Gets it all clear for the weekend. Means we can do our actual job. Just a thing SDN insists upon rather than trusting any of us that we're productive." James chuckled, knowing that it certainly would leave a mark on them both- in rather differing ways. If Asteroid was trying to keep this job, trying to keep his career on the line, so he didn't end up back in prison, then James was just trying to get paid, and stay in his too, without any more fuss. And speaking of fuss, well, James didn't really think much on the question Asteroid had next to ask, as he adjusted his glasses.

”What’s the- mask situation for the gala? I wasn’t really sure how that would go-” Jet trails off awkwardly. He knows that a lot of guys would look at him sideways for worrying about something like that so far ahead of time. But there was something about the way that James dressed himself that made Jet think he might not even blink twice at the question. Plus- this is the kind thing you were supposed to ask your supervisor- right?

James shrugged, looking at Asteroid's mask, looking around, seeing how it worked. It was part of his suit, less cowl, more just.....part of it as a component.

"Ah, yeah. Yours is.....quite covering. I think it's fine. Or you could use a different mask. Weirdly, I have a lot of Lightning Girl's lying around with lots of other generic mask templates made, just in case. Carbon black as it turns out is quite easy to batch print at a 3D printer." He replied, a nonchalant response, as if this was normal small talk. Conceal yourself in front of the power brokers of LA, and well, some very important people. He hoped that was enough, and it seemed like that as Asteroid was about to go, before he turned and looked back to James with one final question.

”You meet Ikret yet? She’s got a really interesting- look?” He very nearly says costume, but then becomes immediately worried disrespect like that would cause a smiting of Jets of sorts.

James turned his head, chair having already been turned, as he shrugged, knowing her backstory. He'd already read her file. Known the reason she had no need for an induction, no introductions needed. A fallen star from the land of Downtown, and her name wasn't Blackstar, but oddly, one from the Middle East and the Mid-West. Asteroid was worried, he could already tell that. Fear about what Ikret was? Or just fear he had comeptition?

"Not just yet. But she's.....quite different, yeah. Famous as anything too. I'm surprised she's on our team. But I'll take reinforcements. Especially given we're being asked to cover more ground lately." James seemed nonchalant, knowing more than he would let on, but not letting it slip to Asteroid, knowing the pause was awkward.

And before he turned back to work, another thing did pop into his mind.

Something Asteroid did need to know.

"Oh, and Asteroid? I did get some forms from Head Office the other day. Pascal wants to talk to you next week. Liaison guy, at the start of the process to get you off Phoenix. Since you'll continue to work here throughout parole. Not sure if I'll even see it to completion to be honest, as it takes time. But I hope it works out for you. You seem like good people." James said, knowing that Asteroid might not have known who that was. Pascal Florent was SDN's Phoenix Programme Liason. Snakebite, of all people.

And well, what that meant for Asteroid was he might be coming closer to the end of the line. That maybe meant he was closer to the end of the line, but as close as the end of the line was, James knew that for any criminal, that was easier said than done. Committing a crime, doing time, that was easy. Trying to avoid doing it again was harder than your first time as they said.....and James didn't want to think what ocean of problems Asteroid had, but right now, it was at least something for him to look forward to.

James seemed genuine in that moment, nodding to him, as his phone buzzed....."Shit, sorry, I need to get to that."

And with Asteroid walking away, James had a line to take.

"Hello, James Speight, Speight Con....I mean, SDN, how can I...."

---

Friday
13:01
Break Room
SDN Claremont

New Blood

James had headed out of the room soon enough, already back to his desk, but Lightning Girl had managed to continue fiddling with her llama, seeing Asteroid and Blackstar sitting there being all, cute and everything.

Her brother had talked about how the team was coming together, as Lightning Girl looked across to Hat Trick, rolling her eyes. Wondering if he knew about a certain two of them really coming together in a certain way. But he was stretching instead.

@BigPapaBelial

He groaned and stretched in his seat, tensing up then trying to stretch his body from head to toe. Until a rather audbile pop in his shoulders and back, "Ohhh hell yes."

Then asked, "So, half a shift of Dispatches then? or just go running off to the Gala?"

He nods, "Fine, but the Gala ought to be fun. Black Tie huh? Let's see how many people actually show up like that. I can wear one of my "Power Suits" Hat Trick laughed then skipped to his feet, "Oh damn I need to go and stretch, still so achey!"

"I don't think they meant super, super formal. But something that doesn't make you look like you got dragged off the street. I'm sure it'll be fine." Lightning Girl definitely wasn't going for a black dress, that much was for sure. Quite the opposite.

"But yeah, lucky us. Half day, some dispatches, then big fancy gala. Woo." She smiled, trying to hide her excitement for actually not working and instead, preening for camera and in Hollywood. Now that, that was something. Finally, after weeks it felt like of anticipation, the day could not be delayed, not by logistics, operational rearrangements, or motherfucking clowns. But that thought was interrupted entirely by the sound of wings beating, and a mug falling down, and a silhouette that dominated from the moment she entered.

@Ezekiel

So much as came in like a bird of prey resting talons into a branch, so much did Ikret catch Sophie's eye.

Like a counterpoint to all those thoughts. Ikret was suddenly catching all the light that Sophie thought she might have had.

Oh, she'd heard, and seen, all about her. Everything. But why here?

"Sup." Punctuated suddenly by the 'pop' of the bubblegum she began to work on purely for dramatic purpose.

A hello was needed first, so Lightning Girl stopped biting her tongue, realising she should probably fill silence, as what felt like one of the longer serving members of the team. Sophie expected to see her, but in person, oh, shit, the winged woman was all presence, in person, very different to just what she may have imagined. Smooth as absolute butter, there in her white suit with her teal and red, with that mask of hers. It couldn't be anyone else. And Lightning Girl had a funny feeling that the mythical winged woman knew it.

"Oh, hey Ikret! Welcome to the A-Team! Pleasure to have you with us, saw nothing but good stuff of you on socials." Lightning Girl was already far too excitable as she replied to the American-Egyptian's simple introduction, letting Asteroid get in first. No handshake, a simple wave, as right now, she was still drawing power and would therefore likely taze the newcomer.

Ikret felt immediately larger than life than the image that Sophie tried to project. More like she was in limelight. Of course Ikret was. She had so, so many followers on Instagram. And the other platforms. An Egyptian half-deity? Or whatever roots she had to it? Well, of course, falcon lady was all about her image. She was a hell of a heroine, and had been kicking a ton of ass from the few reels that she'd been seeing around socials. Popping her bubblegum, there was like an almost.....art to what she did. Lightning Girl had never been that. She had just looked nice for photos, in reels, in anything. Ikret took that to another level from what she'd seen. Made the world bend to her look. Like she knew the way to be in it.

So why was she in Claremont, not Downtown? Had she made a mistake that bad? The transfer was one thing, when she saw it on Slack, but this was still hard to comprehend in person. The white-haired Brit seemed to be rather matched by the black-haired Horus-like woman, perhaps more in some areas. Why here though?

Perhaps mistakes just happened. Sophie thought about that a lot, what with the Carnival, the door, Tsunami, among the others. The many many other things that she's rather not let her mind palace float into, as the white-suited heroine adjusted her cape and her mask, clearing her throat.

But Ikret had too? Nah. Or at least, well, this wasn't going to last long. Ikret was a big deal. A serious deal. Phoenix Programme maybe? But even then, what had she done, murdered a bunch of guys?

”Must be quite strange for your first day on the team to end with a Gala dinner?” It’s genuine- he’s pretty sure he’d have had a heart attack if it were him. He’s sure he would have shown up out of costume, and that makes him sweaty.

Lightning Girl had absorbed far too much electricity. She was far too chatty, looking to Asteroid and Ikret.

"I mean, she's as famous as anyone there so she'll be a natural fit. And I mean that suit.....wow. It looks so much cooler in person. If that's the sorta stuff they get in DTLA, call me envious. Anyway. Welcome to Claremont, and I am sure you'll do amazing here, like your socials say." Lightning Girl paid a compliment, almost coming from her place of wonder, that and having millions of volts running inside of her, turning her vision from colour to almost an oversaturated, contrast turned up to max, kind of mess.

"So, I'm Lightning Girl, and yes, the accent isn't from around here. That's Blackstar, and she wields cool dark energy blades." She notioned, knowing Blackstar was shyer than Felix, but, she was going to shout out her work bestie. Not talking about her own powers but the accent was getting odd. But hey, it was self explanatory. Mostly.

"Then there's Hat Trick, who has cryokinetic powers. And the power of calling hockey plays really loud." She chuckled, arms wide as if she was introducing, before nodding back to Asteroid.

"And Asteroid, who can manipulate gravity, and his own." Letting them all speak for themselves, but, of course, bigging up her co-workers. As cringe-y as one would, filled with lots and lots of potential energy.

Maybe the opposite of a person that Ikret would have enjoyed being around, or maybe enjoying the same airy celebrity, as Lightning Girl stuck her comms in her ear, hearing James call out the first dispatch. Blackstar was up, just a simple welfare check. And then the next, for the electricity-based Brit. Lightning Girl stood up with two-thirds of crocheted Highland Cow in hand as she put it by her bag, marked up "LG" with a sticker on the top of it and with her gloves back on, sighing, looking across to Ikret. Lightning Girl might have been more of a classic, the white-haired, black masked, white-grey suit and white cape combo something of a vintage, but Ikret looked eternal. Probably because she was, too. That was always the thing about mythical beings, she could never tell just how old they were. Her height, and well, her volume implied she wasn't any old bird-person, but definitely of Egyptian myth. A myth translated different across Instagram.

"You are a lot taller in person, not gonna lie.....shit, I'm up. Anyway. Shout if you need anything!" She was still going, shaking her head and laughing as she put her contraption to drag power out of the socket nearby, and with it, broke into a gentle jog, cape billowing behind as she left the team behind, no time to waste for work.

---

Before Ikret would leave the room, the others thinning out for dispatches, James would find a moment to catch her, dispatch headphones around neck.

"Hey up, Ikret. I'm James, the Dispatcher from the Slack channel. Before you go, mind sorting this paperwork before you go? Admin stuff. And I believe you're still on standard SDN comms and tracking, right? If so, I've already got you on the line." James put a clipboard in front of her, with the transfer forms, the last bits he needed to get her onto the system, tapping his headset as if to indicate what he meant.

Ikret was quite the hero, but in Phoenix Programme, well, that painted a very different picture of what had gone down. But it was enough to know a profile of her, from the reports, the homework he always did.

And how to hack someone who loved their own ego. Someone who was used to worship and praise, and well, that took a totally different approach than to say, Blackstar, who needed encouragement. Asteroid who just needed a little quiet reassurance. His sister, who he still did not know how the fuck worked. So he was going to take a punt at Ikret.

He had no powers, but his power was knowing how to nudge those with. Not always successfully, granted, but the team worked because of it, well, so far at last. It kept him out of trouble, in paycheck, and most of all, with a vested interest to make sure everyone on the team did well. It came from being a Development Consultant. There was no project too big. Well, Madcap might have been his match, but he was reassigned after all.....

The American-Egyptian heroine was next on his list, and well, he thought now was probably as good as a time as ever to discreetly lay the cards out.

"I know this wasn't what you expected. But look after the branch, I'll look after you. We can see about when we get you back to DTLA if you behave on the Phoenix Programme;, the results should come easy for you, yeah?" James was ready to take her paperwork back, knowing full well that while that stick approach wasn't always gonna work, being super sincere wasn't either. But a little bit of carrot? Perhaps, maybe that would do it. And later, things might clear themselves up.

"So don't worry, plenty of room for fame here. Clean start and everything!" James tailed off, as another call came through his ear from the call handlers, making him jog away before Ikret could get a full response in to that last sentence, aware that things were certainly getting going, James heading to the dispatch station filling up with tasks.

---

Friday
13:20
James's Desk
SDN Claremont

Cue the Montage

It didn't take long for the computer to log all heroes online, and for the mug to hit the tray next to it. The papers to be signed off.

James clattered away at keyboard, sipping down Earl Grey and lifting the SDN branded mug, the heat of the sun still beating down. Fuck, it was hot here. The air con wasn't doing shit.

The day had so far been a chill one. But with an earbud in one ear, the scene was set, as he started to receive the first calls.

Soundtrack: The Last Dinner Party- Call Me

From some of the heroes going to a fair and giving out leaflets about SDN, to telling off kids spraying graffiti, AGAIN, on the Wal-Mart, to regular neighbourhood patrols. The map covered La Verne to Pomona, and inbetween, was their little slice of the San Bernadino Valley.

As far from the glitz and glamour as someone like Ikret could be, she was still getting attention wherever she swooned around, on the minor dispatches to help the subscribers of Claremont. So was Lightning Girl, posing with a group of schoolkids at a meet and greet, to Asteroid and Hat Trick, out on a job to go move some soil for the Claremont Botanical Gardens, to Blackstar, out and about as a background figure at the opening of a new shop in the City Centre.

James sipped tea, as he called in more, the hours clocking by, occasionally taking off his headset to grab a glass of water, before sitting back down. Another call. Another dispatch. It was a steady day, a standard kind of thing. Heroes coming and going in his office. Lightning Girl giving Felix a pick-up and a scruff, to Matthieu throwing Felix some tuna, to Kat coming by and leaning against the office cubicle, sizing up each of the heroes, to Martha reluctantly collecting the tray of papers by his desk.

From Blackstar to Asteroid, to Ikret and Hat Trick, to Lightning Girl, who rambled away about something or other, before heading out again, running off the balcony, and into flight, the montage continuing with heroes doing what was their 1-5 shift today. Mundane, boring, nothing exciting that wasn't a mass casualty event, but sometimes, the rent needed paying and not having to stretch legs too much helped.

Call Me? James certainly felt like half of Claremont was giving him a ring via the call handling team that managed the subscribers, but the heroes that were on his dispatch were getting it done, and well, it was seamless. Mostly. Every now and then a minor issue, a discerning look from James, but, you could almost imagine it, but he kept drinking tea to push the pain away in getting it done. They were back out, and back to work, points hitting leaderboard, as the office ticked away.

From 1pm to 3pm, the clock ticked on by, almost like a blur. A lot of teas and coffees drank by the team, a lot of small dispatches, a routine, standard sort of day at the office.

Yet it had been a day without any actual, serious, unhinged violence. How serene.

But, a few bigger jobs had come back up and come in at the same time. Compared to the insanity of the clowns last Thursday, and okay, a few big jobs in the week where some criminals had to be taken down a peg or two, that trend of lacking violence seemed to continue, as the next jobs seemed to all have one common thread.

Lots of people needed lots of help, and only heroes could save the day, as James leaned up, adjusting his headset mic.

---

Rescue Team

"Okay, Blackstar, need you on a Search and Rescue mission. Somehow, some hiker has ended up being teleported into the San Gabriel Mountains, no idea how he got there, and he needs saving. Can you go look for him? Gonna patch you into Los Angeles SAR, they'll have more info on the situation. Head north towards the San Gabriel Mountains and standby for further info." That was the first. Okay, that made sense. Flying hero, someone to go explore a lot of ground. Her or Ikret made sense, but James had a certain trust with Blackstar that she would live up to standard.

Next up, a physical job.

"Hat Trick, I've got a crash on Interstate 10, lotta traffic. Driver is okay but PD can't seem to shift the obstacle. Think you can free that up?" That one also made sense. Someone who could . Now, what about....okay, that one? Shit...

"Asteroid, Claremont Zoo are calling and uhhh...they have a bit of a situation. They're reporting a lot of cougars are on the rampage. And they lost their tranquiliser gun. Reckon you can sort this situation out?" James put him to it, thinking that the animal lover may not have been ideal to sort out a bunch of big cats, much, much bigger than Felix, but gravity might be a good tool there. Perhaps. And that left two more on the deck. One which was fairly serious, all things considered, and either of his two remaining heroes would have fit.

"Ikret, got a fairly urgent one. Light aircraft in distress, track east of Ontario International Airport, looks like it's got failed landing gear. Sending you a pinged location. See if you can save the occupants, and ideally, not crash the plane into any urban areas."

Then the last job.

A shit one, quite literally. But one he needed a hero maybe a little more well rounded for, and that happened to be his sister.

"Okay, Lightning Girl....I've got an incident at the local sewage works. Power's gone down, can you hold their manual pumps up until the backup unit comes back online?"

He didn't want to take any bias for looking like he was sending his sister to certain jobs, but in this instance, the sad truth was, it might have actually have been the one he would have had to pick out.

The daggers that were shot from Sophie back at James as she jogged out of the break room and out of the balcony to catch flight felt like they said it all, as she left the building, shaking her head in thinking that of all days, all the fucking days, why today?

---

Into the Wild

@cosmiccowgirl

Blackstar's comms would be filled by the sounds of the Search and Rescue operator, who was managing this particular incident. Odd as it was, but then again, a random guy on the street being dropped into the middle of the mountains, far, far from any road, was extremely not in their wheelhouse. SDN's though, maybe. She would have likely been heading north, and while it was out of Claremont's usual zone, heroes joined SAR missions whenever they were needed beyond their borders- particularly when things turned out this way.

"Blackstar, thank god you're on the line! Okay, we've narrowed it down to four grid co-ordinates from his phone call, but we can't still see him.....can you look around for him? If you find the guy, he's in an orange shirt, sounds like he's quite hurt because he fell into a tree....if you can pull him out, get him to hospital as soon as you can!"

It wouldn't be much to go on, but Blackstar was an eye in the sky, and she had wilderness to cover in the big mountains north of LA.

---

A Sticky Situation

@BigPapaBelial

When Hat Trick would turn up to Interstate 10, in the blazing heat of the late sunshine, he'd find out just what was causing the issue.

A semi truck had turned over, and was leaking no end of yellowy-gold substance across the road, with the silver tanker jack-knifed at a complete halt, blocking two lanes. The truck driver sat dazed, a bit banged up, but fine, and in no need of urgent medical care. The police seemed to have that handled. The tanker wasn't completely blocking the road, and while traffic was gonna be bad, it could have been much, much worse. Clearing the trailer would be hard, but wasn't the main problem it seemed.

What the police didn't have handled, was the massive silver tank that was turning the concrete highway into a sticky mess second by second as honey turned to crystal, and the car on its side next to it that had been sloshed and covered in it when the tank started leaking out that had been hit by the truck. A couple of civies were stuck comically in what looked like the sweetest substance known, and nobody knew how to get them out. And their car too, now getting embalmed in sticky honey. That seemingly, was attracting a lot of bugs, pests and unsurprisingly, bees that were feasting on nectar.

One of the traffic officers waved to Hat Trick, and pointed it out, the cryokinetic hero now growing in recognition around these parts.

"Hey, Hat Trick! Over here! Can you help us get those guys out of the sticky stuff, and the car too? We'll get traffic moving through once ready!"

---

Rumble in the Jungle

@SonnetNSunbeam

When Asteroid would turn up to the situation at Claremont Zoo, what he would find was not wild animals on the rampage.

It was not wild cougars that had been unleashed, chasing women and children, though they were running away, as were terrified looking zookeepers.

Instead, it was about six or so older women, brawling with a group of what looked like teenagers with cameras, who had realised they'd fucked with the wrong group of people. A prank gone very, very wrong, and it would be hard to tell who was in the right, and who was in the wrong.

"Dammit! You promised there would be men in heat here! Not just some crappy lions!" One of the older women slapped what looked like a prankster with a video camera with a bag, another hurling a porcelain tiger at one of them as they ran away, but at this point, the red mist had all but descended.

James wanted to laugh at the sight on the CCTV, he really did, but being the serious dispatcher he was, pressed his hands into his face, realising what they call meant.

"Cougars. They meant that kind of cougar. Asteroid, up to you, mate. You're an expert on this sort of thing, aren't you? See if you can bring this one to a peaceful end. Or at least, bring some order back to this chaos so everyone can enjoy the zoo again." James finally cracked, shaking his head, knowing the grannies he'd dealt with before were probably beyond that definition.

But, at this point, James wondered if maybe, in a strange way, the universe delivered a funny comeuppance in this sort of situation to the pranksters, and maybe, even Asteroid for getting stoned a few weeks ago. Not that James would have known, of course, but karma was a hell of a cosmic thing. A few of the gamekeepers were running past the gift shop, which only left Asteroid against many angry people on both sides that he had to defuse somehow.

---

Air Traffic Control

@Ezekiel

Ikret's comms would be updated as she would head towards the airport, James keeping her patched in.

"Got a track on the aircraft, looks like a couple inside. Up to you how you handle it, try and avoid bringing the plane down over any populated areas, but fuel will be running low." James looked on at the aircraft track, this one quite a real threat. Shit, this one had potential to go sideways. But same time, Ikret was capable. She hadn't been on DTLA's roster for nothing. And while James had lost Fenomaman, and a few other heroes from the roster, gaining Ikret had been a serious reinforcement to the team's capabilities. The light aircraft was in a slow orbit around the airport, and with fuel running low, Ikret would have her pick of choices to get occupants down to safety.

---

---

Friday
1:06pm
SDN Breakroom

(( ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ: @SonnetNSunbeam/Asteroid, [@Ezekial]/Ikret | ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ: @BigPapaBelial/Hat Trick, @FourtyTwo/LG + James ))

The sound of Jet laughing immediately quieted ten different worries she hadn't even known she'd had. Of course that number jumped right back up again when he doubled over, hand going to his ribs in a gesture she was now very familiar with, but it was more worry about him than anything else.

"And here I was filling out paperwork for child- er- bear support. I wasn’t even expecting joint custody.”

Alaine snickered softly at that, pain wincing through her side but not as much as if she'd let herself actually laugh. "Hey, a growing bear's going to need all the parenting he can get, I imagine."

He was leaning towards her. From the outside looking in, he wasn't that close... to Alaine, it felt like he was very close. She went rather still, eyes wide behind her mask.

"Alaine- I won this for you.” His voice is steady- but quiet. Soft- but sure. "It reminded me of you. But now- he reminds me- of me?”

Had she not been so distracted by the quiet way he was talking, she probably would've found it funny that he and Sophie had both seen stuffed bears and thought of her. Instead she was still just staring at him, brain stuttered to a halt as she mumbled a surprised, "...Oh."

"You’ll just have to give me the opportunity to win you another.”

Jet leaned back then as Sophie -- Lightning Girl -- entered, and Alaine didn't reply; but the pink spreading across what was visible of her face probably spoke for her.

There was screaming in the back of her head again -- but it wasn't the usual, language-less star-screams. This time it was just her, squealing and giggling mentally like a giddy kid.

Hat Trick entered eventually, chatting with LG briefly and mentioned the Gala before groaning about the aches he still had from last week, which was way too relatable... Alaine forced herself to pay attention to Lightning Girl's response about the Gala, noting the dress code expectations and wondering how she was going to manage it. Sophie sounded eager, at least -- Alaine could see through that attempt at hiding excitement. It was probably a big deal for an important hero like her. She probably already had a nice outfit ready. Dang it, were there dress shops around that had, like, off-the-rack dresses? That was a thing, right? The only experience she could really draw any ideas from was when she'd gone wedding dress shopping with her sisters and mom and grandma, for Brook's wedding.

But trying to figure out what she going to do was stressing her out again and she really didn't want to be stressed right then, so Alaine casually shifted a little in her seat, legs stretched out -- and let one boot lightly rest against Jet's. Just enough that it could be unintentional.

The sight of two big, angel-like wings being fit through the door eventually made her start thinking about something other than the man sat next to her, and Alaine blinked a couple of times as she processed what she was looking at.

"Sup." Punctuated suddenly by the 'pop' of the bubblegum she began to work on purely for dramatic purpose.

The bubblegum popping burst the brief air of statuesque, goddess-like presence the newcomer held, and Alaine's head tilted to the side subconsciously in curiosity. She remembered he Slack message then about a new hero -- Ikret, right? She was stunning. From the curves to the suit to the wings... she looked like she ought to be on a runway somewhere.

Alaine was quiet for the moment as Jet spoke up, greeting the newcomer; he was joined by LG, who introduced her teammates enthusiastically. When she was noted, Blackstar sheepishly uncrossed her arms to lift one hand in a small but friendly wave. Finally speaking again when there was a pause in LG's introductions, she offered a light, "Howdy."

A little light conversation, then the dispatches started rolling in; James picked her for a welfare check and Blackstar stood, pausing briefly to tap Asteroid's shoulder with her gloved knuckles. "Seeya later, Louie," she hummed, grinning at him as she shortened one nickname into another without really even thinking about it.

On her way to the balcony she gave Ikret a relaxed, two-fingered salute and a nod. "Hey, good luck on your first day." She was no Lightning Girl, but she hoped her friendly tone came through.

And with that she off, on to the dispatches for the day.

---

"Okay, Blackstar, need you on a Search and Rescue mission. Somehow, some hiker has ended up being teleported into the San Gabriel Mountains, no idea how he got there, and he needs saving. Can you go look for him? Gonna patch you into Los Angeles SAR, they'll have more info on the situation. Head north towards the San Gabriel Mountains and standby for further info."

After so many mild dispatches, a more serious one coming in through her earpiece immediately had Blackstar's attention.

"On it," she replied to James, stepping off the rooftop she'd been idling on while waiting for another call. Soon James had patched her through to SAR, and she listened as the operator explained the situation. Random guy on the street one minute, in the middle of nowhere the next?

Wormhole, Alaine thought to herself matter-of-factly. That should probably be a bigger issue. If it were her, she'd be asking the guy where exactly on the street he'd been and blocking the area off, just in case.

She could see the mountains coming up; she'd been out that way before on her pre-work, early morning flights. She was pretty sure she'd gone streaking through the sky above them like a shooting star just last week, actually.

"Blackstar, thank god you're on the line! Okay, we've narrowed it down to four grid co-ordinates from his phone call, but we can't still see him.....can you look around for him? If you find the guy, he's in an orange shirt, sounds like he's quite hurt because he fell into a tree....if you can pull him out, get him to hospital as soon as you can!"

"Alright..." She thought for a minute. "Orange?"

"Yes, and in a tree."

"Gotcha."

Blackstar let her flight path shift upwards as she approached the mountains, arcing high into the sky. She had good vision and she knew it -- she had a feeling that if she got high up enough to scan the whole grid area, she'd have a better chance of spotting the lost man than if she tried flying low.

She curved over the mountains, turning midair to study the ground below. Orange wasn't a natural color, so she had hopes it'd be easy to spot. Of course, if he was sort of buried beneath a bunch of foliage or tangled up in a tree, that might make it difficult... She supposed she'd do an overall sweep first, then go in for a closer look if--

Oh. There he was.

Alaine fumbled to a halt midair, registering the flash of orange she'd just seen far below. Twisting around, she dropped into a quick dive, pulling up before she smashed into the trees and righting herself so she could float down.

"Hello?"

"Here! Help!"

Okay, yeah, that was him. Blackstar pushed a few broken limbs out of the way, bracing one boot against a thicker branch and leaning into the foliage to spot her displaced civilian; the orange shirt was a bit dirty and ripped, and he did look a little worse for wear -- but overall he seemed alright.

"Alright, bud?" Blackstar asked, extending a hand; he took it, wincing as he carefully edged towards her down the wide branch he'd managed to perch himself on. "Y-Yeah, I think so... I mean, k-kind of... I think I might've broken my leg though, it hurts like hell..."

Gripping his hand, Alaine shifted around, maneuvering amid the branches and glad for the lenses over her eyes as a small limb whacked her across the temple. Ignoring the lingering pain from the events of the past week, she lifted the man in a bridal carry, being very careful of the leg he thought was broken. "Okay, here -- let me get you to the ground and set that leg for you, yeah?"

The guy was more than willing to sacrifice a couple scraps of his already-ruined shirt, and it only took Blackstar a minute to find a couple of good sticks to brace on either side of his lower leg. Crude but efficient splint made, she gingerly picked up her passenger again and made a swift flight to the hospital the San Gabriel SAR operator directed her to. Emergency services were waiting when she touched down, setting the man on the stretcher they provided; she stepped back to let the nurses take over, but before she could turn to leave she heard him call out.

"Hey!"

Blackstar paused, pivoting on a heel to look back. The man waved to her from the stretcher. "I bet you hear it all the time, but thank you! Really, I've got kids--

Please! Please, I've got kids--

Alaine blinked, ignoring the urge to make a motion like she was physically shaking something off.

"I was just on the way home... if I fell out of that damn tree, hell, I might not have made it back to them." The guy laughed faintly, letting out a breath of relief and calling, as the nurses began to wheel him away. "So thanks! Keep up the good work!"

Blackstar stared after him for a second before throwing on a quick smile and waving after him. "Ha -- yeah, no problem! Get better soon, yeah?"

She saw him throw her a thumbs up before he and the nurses disappeared into the hospital, and she stood there for a few seconds more before taking a deep breath and ignoring the burn in her ribs. Clearing her throat, she turned and pushed off the ground and into the sky again.

"Alright, James, got it wrapped up and headed back to Claremont."

Judging by the time, that might just be her last dispatch of the day, she reasoned.

After that was the real challenge -- a social event.

Yay.

After suiting up, Hat Tricked checked the work phone. Seeing the Dispatch.

He stands for a moment or ten, I beg your finest fecking pardon? He messages back then shakes his head, Verified on my way out.

Soon he's racing down the streets, watching the streets as he goes power strides as he skates. And at the same time he cycles through his songs so as he pulls up to the site music begins to play. He pulls up next to the police officer. Then looks at the scene, "What the hell?" He took in the situation and nods, "Okay...okay...get your people out of the site for a second or two. And tell the ones in their car to shield their faces."

He then shocked everyone as he turned back around and raced back up the I-10. Zipping between waiting cars. Giving high fives as he passed cars and people reaching out in greeting. He heads about half a mile down the road before turning back, and pushes hard, building up momemtum. Police and First REsponders quickly move out of the way. The people in the trapped car ducking and shielding themselves.

As he gets closer a new song plays. Ice and cold already crawling up his legs and arms. He grits his teeth and giving a skip-hop movement, he punches an arm forward crying out, "Eureka Flow!" a cold spray of cold air and snow slush spraying out over the honey, the gathering insects and car and silver tanker.

Now why you may ask? A few reasons. One - Honey crystalizes and hardens in the cold making it easier to move and to manage. Two - The cold causes most insects to go into preservation mode, staying grounded and weathering the icey tempertures. And three, it creates a fantastic cool path in the Cali heat for first responders to get to the trapped car. But he may have overdone it just a teeny tiny lil bit, as his cold snap spray power, causes a faux snow fall to start around the crash site. Hat Trick looks up and hum, "Well hells bells I didn't think I could do that." Said as the First Responders start to climb the hardened honey and ice sheet to make it to the car. Hat Trick then walks rather then skates up and helps the Rescue Crews to reach the trapped folks in the car. He grabs one of them who's covered in a thin layer of slightly hardened honey and a very faint rime of cool slush and helps them free of the car, "Well hello there aren't you a sweet thing." He says and gets a swat across the chest from the young man who he's helping.

With a chuckle they get the pair free of the car, and out of the honey trap. Yes I just said that.

Once free and clear the clean up begins. Hat Trick helps out again, the layer of ice and cold still around his arms. The big cryokinetic hero skip step forward and calls again, "Eureka Flow!" Recrystailizing the honey, and this time a black cloud of flies, bees and other sweet seeking insects fly rather then stick around. Shovels and scoops come into action. breaking up the solid mass of golden sweet. Hat Trick spraying it a few more times while clean up continues and traffic moves around the accident.

As things wind down HAt Trick hums, "This is a great calamity all that sugar." The cop who greeted him nods, "Tell you what." The cop looks at him, "This could have been worse." The First NAtions man says. The cop blinks, "Eh? How?" Hat trick grins, "It could have been maple syrup. This would have been millions spilled in cash rather then thousands." The cop swats him this time. Many people forget Hat Trick is Canadian, bacon, poutine and maple syrup are national treasures.

With the clean up winding down, Hat Trick checks to make sure everything is copacetic before turning around and hopping the railing and using some ice to slide down to the ground below. He whips out his phone then.

Dispatch successful. That was alot of Golden Treasure wasted on the road. Heading back to the building to suit up for the Social gathering.



Hat Trick makes it back to the SDN building about 40 minutes later, having stopped a time or two for pictures and PR moments. Gotta give the people out there the show sometimes.

As he climbs the steps rather then skates up them he stretches, "I'm gonna be dreaming about honey and maple syrup tonight I just know it!" He says in James' general direction as he passes making for the locker rooms. "Best suit up proper for this..."

And disappears inside.

About 20 minutes later he comes back out, headed for the breakroom, out of his hero suit and in his "HERO" suit. A four piece purple and gold formal suit. A power suit in all the right words. Golden buttons, on dark purple silk and linen. Braided wrist cuffs, golden cuff links, a powerful purple tie with golden thread woven through it. Boot cut trousers in dark royal purple. He's even rebraided his hair so it hangs down in back in a single long black plait.

And into the breakroom for a cuppa before finding out what the plan for the Gala is.

---

Lampshades on Fire - Modest Mouse

Jet stared at the scene in front of him in abject horror. What really sent him was the comment about men in heat. He already knew he was a dead man walking in this crowd. A mask? Dangerous- he could be anybody under it, and his suit did betray he was more fit than Average Joe. He saw the posts about booktok girlies on the internet.

This was going to be a nightmare.

The porcelain tiger the woman threw smashed into the floor within a few feet of him. “Jesus.”

"Cougars. They meant that kind of cougar. Asteroid, up to you, mate. You're an expert on this sort of thing, aren't you? See if you can bring this one to a peaceful end. Or at least, bring some order back to this chaos so everyone can enjoy the zoo again." James finally cracked, shaking his head, knowing the grannies he'd dealt with before were probably beyond that definition.

Asteroid groans into the comm system. ”Wrangling Cougars at the zoo, got it James. I’m starting to think it’ll be tough to escape.” He takes a deep breath and then approaches the woman with his hands held palms out in front of him. Like he really was trying to calm a wild animal.

The older woman, Mrs. Porcelain to Jet in his brain straightens up. And for a flicker of a moment he saw echos of her past life. Her standing at attention in front of a group of young people. Oh- no. ”Ma’am, I’m Asteroid, SDN hero. And I think-”

He is within three feet of her when her arm lashes out and throws the entire display of porcelain tigers to the floor. Jet grimaces beneath his mask. He tries to recall if that’s paperwork SDN has to file, or just the business with their insurance company. ”Listen sweetheart- I was promised men, and best I can tell you’re the only one in a fifty foot radius.”

Previously unnoticed, the women have closed in on him from every angle. A chorus of affirmative cheers makes him jump.

A shiver runs up his spine. ”Listen ladies- I heard there’s a Phenomaman look a like competition a few blocks over! We can get back on your bus and head over there.”

The women begin to break things all around them. The manager’s depressed whimpers can be heard from behind the counter. He pivots to reassure the woman that he’ll be able to get it under control when Mrs. Porcelain takes this opportunity to jump on his back. He lifts her with ease, but he swallows with discomfort. ”Forward, march.” the woman barks from his back. The women around him at once turn and begin moving toward the bus.

Guards at the gate give him sympathetic looks as he approaches the party bus pimped out by the retirement home. The feather boa lined windows were what surprised him the most. After dropping Mrs. Porcelain at the top stair, the other women begin to climb in after him.

One of them smacks the back of his knees with their cane and he stumbles forward. The older women then begin to climb or shimmy over him until just one is left at the bottom of the stairs. She’s wearing sunglasses and holds an extendable pole in her hands. He pries himself from the stairs, feeling a bit bruised from the clown events. He’s sure a few old ladies would have hurt a lot less prebroken ribs.

He reaches down and grasps her hand lightly. ”I’ll help you up, Ma’am.” The woman says nothing but takes his hand and proceeds up the stairs.

”Anyone not accounted for?”

A chorus of mumbles as they discuss. Suddenly a shrill voice from the middle of the bus pipes up. ”Anybody see Darlene?”

Asteroid sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he pivots to the bus driver. ”Shut the door and don’t let them out unless it’s dire circumstances.”

He ignores the driver's protests as he marches back into the zoom. In the middle of the entrance zone there is a fountain. Inside the fountain is a family of Mallards. And Darlene. Presumably.

”You Darlene Ma’am? Your friends are looking for you.” Asteroid stands at the edge of the fountain. Inside, Darlene is stretched out like it is actually a hot tub. The Mallards float stiffly on the other side of the fountain from her.

He examines her after there is no answer and finds that she is wearing a name badge with ‘Darlene’ and ‘Alzheimer's’ in big block letters.

Jet reaches into the fountain and is able to retrieve her and stick her back into her overturned wheel chair. A lazy smile doesn’t leave her face as Asteroid pilots them back to the bus.

Where they find a concerning scene. Inside, the driver stands in the middle aisle, hands over his face while several purses rain down on him. It isn’t until Asteroid has Darlene safely tucked into her seat that the driver rushes the front of the bus. ”We’re leaving.”

Asteroid begins to protest but it is interrupted by a purse to the face. More follow, and as they pull away from the curb he fully steps into the shoes of the driver. Being pelted by every angle by purses.

When they finally make it to their destination, Mrs. Porcelain drags him inside. They approach the desk, where three unbothered women sit, eyes glued to their computer screens. ”See girls, I told you I’d get myself a chaperone!”

These errands double the time Asteroid thought he’d be gone for the dispatch, as he is forced to run around with Mrs. Porcelain.

”James- I think I’m swearing off old ladies for awhile” He reaches the breakroom last and he finds his pockets are inexplicably stuffed with Werther’s Original candies. He offers them to everyone in the room slowly.

Friday
15:05
Claremont Sewage Works

Royal Flush

Landing down by the side of the terrified looking sewage works, orange day-glo outfit wearing engineer brushed her hair aside and looked up to Lightning Girl, the gantry overlooking the tanks that made up the sewage works, from her control tower that felt hopelessly useless. For such an emergency, it felt strange that there were no firemen, police, anyone else at all. The sewage works were glad to have SDN on subscription given that engineers these days felt harder to come by than heroes.

"Thank god you're here! The main tank's gonna blow, we're totally out of power, and the overflow sluice is jammed! Swirlers treating the sewage are out, so we can't even seperate the slurry!" The engineer exclaimed, pointing down at the alerts on the display in their control room, and outside, seemingly nothing going on. Lightning Girl was not a sewage works engineer, so she seemed perplexed, because as far as she could see, nothing was urgently wrong.

She had to assume that she was here rather than the engineer because the process would require a lot more than just technical knowledge. Best to ask the engineer for that though, Sophie reasoned.

"The overflow's jammed?"

"Yeah, we can't move it on our emergency power! Can you bring us back online?"

She shrugged, the white-caped, white haired heroine and power, being a combo made for measure. That was her. All over, that was literally her. Push enough of her power into the system and bring itb ack online.

"Sure, why not! What do I have to hit?" She replied, with confidence, but wanting not to break anything like last time. How hard could it be? Very hard, so best to take some time, she reasoned, the engineer pointing a gloved hand out at it.

"Okay, so we need power down there at that panel at the end of the main settlement tank. That'll get the tanks treating again, and it won't build. If worst comes to worst, and the system doesn't reactivate even if you give it power....you'll need to somehow activate the overflow sluice into the secondary tank, by going down that ladder there, and lifting it manually using a turnwheel. Then running across to the secondary tanks and getting power going there so those swirlers activate and treat the water, before we dump all of Claremont's crap into the LA river."

"What if I don't?" Sophie's chirpy voice asked, wanting to know the stakes. Please, don't let it be an explosion of shit. Please.

"The overflow'll blow off all its seals, and you don't want to know." The stakes were set appropriately then. Do, and stop a major environmental disaster, don't, let it happen, and turn an average day into a hell. About what she feared, mostly.

Lightning Girl did not want to imagine it. Already from here, the smell of poo was considerable. It was like a hundred million craps, condensed into one hot, spicy melange of disgust. The odourisers were dead given the power was out, so the sooner it was back online, the better. She nodded to the engineer, with a noble sort of look, and made a move to leap off the gantry and elegantly throw herself into the metal grating and concrete below, running along the side of the enormous main tank.

She ran around the corner and found the control panels, beyond the remote system the main engineer was trying to operate, to no avail as the power had died out. Punching the box and grabbing the lead, Lightning Girl reasoned this was as good of a place. It had to feed into the main system. So this had to work.

And throwing as much power as she could into it. Grabbing a hold of the unit and trying to dump it in....and it chugged, and chugged, and then, the motor seemed to spark back. The motor that had turned the enormous ladle-like swirlers, that separated the water from the sludge in the tanks had come to life, and then died back.

Fuck. That wasn't working. Motor was dead. Okay, even if power was back, that thing had been fried, beyond anything putting voltage would fix. Lightning Girl couldn't tell, and in the end, it didn't matter. She wasn't gonna be able to get the pumps going manually and do anything, as the unit malfunctioned, no longer wanting to play ball. Unless she wanted to clamber over the parapet and physically move the stirrers, but that would be like trying to use a spoon to move the ocean.

In any case, it didn't matter. The fact was, the main tank was getting more full, and the drain wasn't working into the next one, so, it was time to do Plan B. Which was, as the engineer asked, see if she could manually turn open the sluice, LG turning as her cape fluttered, making a beeline for that marker. A painted marker existed on the wall, as Lightning Girl realised this was worse designed than Chernobyl. Except unlike Chernobyl, the consequences weren't exactly nuclear, but at the place she was standing, they may as well have been. Radiation she could deal with, her body didn't seem to really care much about it given her regeneration, it seemed to just absorb the energy. Sewage though? Shit, well, shit was shit.

Soundtrack: Georges Bizet- Carmen (Instrumental)

And who the fuck put an emergency release that close to the emergency sluice gate? It was on a gantry above the pipe between the main tank and the secondary, between the two massive open-air tanks. It was a cavernous place, about three storeys of void below her, the emergency lighting only left on creating an eerie glow. It all seemed stupid.

But time was of the essence as it sounded like the tank was physically getting pressurised, which no sewage tank was going to last long dealing with. It was going to burst if she didn't do something. And that was one hell of a way to die, LG wondered. She would take getting beaten to death by clowns over this on her gravestone. It was morbid, but hey, it kept her in perspective. If you weren't laughing, she thought to herself as she clambered down the ladder, you were crying from how strong the smell was in the chamber.

She ran from the stairs down going to the gantry to where a turnwheel sat by a pipe, used to move up the sluice on the gantry, below her like a chamber of secrets that was more a void of the worst kind. One that would take all the overflow from the main tank into the next chambers, and given the state of the plant, probably out into the LA River. So this wasn't a "win", for anyone at all, not the least LA's wildlife, but it would preserve the plant and LG could probably work out another plan later to get the secondary containment swirlers up and running.

The klaxons still kept going, as the valve began to turn as she hefted it hard with her power, before getting stuck, the gate opening a bit. Some of the hell was released below her manually, but not all of it. The klaxons continued to blare, as the pressure on the plate built, and built, yellow lights flickering around, bouncing off the black of her mask and the white of her suit, as she gave it everything, feeling the entire joint that the gate was on sever off the bracket, suddenly trapping stuck. And as if that wasn't bad enough, her pushing meant the the entire turn wheel just snapped, Lightning Girl swearing as she realised the door was physically jammed now, fully understanding the gravity of the situation. It had been blown off the hinges, but she'd opened a stream when she needed to open a lake's worth of sewage out.

But there was more than a lake behind that door.

And then, the creaking got louder, and louder, higher in the tank above the door.

And it turned from a deep clank to a loud shriek as the sound of it didn't release pressure, but seemingly, encourage more flow towards it.

Lightning Girl realised the entire tank had started to crack along the side, the pressure release meaning the entire thing was going to shear. It was breaking like a dam from the gantry, and before she could think, maybe she could leap up and hold it, maybe there was something in the handle she could salvage, maybe she.....

The metal sluice gate burst as well as the entire bottom half of the tank by the emergency release, releasing not just the material below her feet in the gantry, but above her, where the release absolutely shouldn't have purged.

It wasn't a stream anymore. It was a tidal wave, going out of one tank, into another.

"Oh, shit!"

---

Trying to flush the toilet, James tsk'd, pushing open the stall and looking to Matthieu, who was vigorously trying to unblock a toilet. SDN Claremont's cleaner, was not having any luck either.

"Toilet's still blocked here." James sighed, as Matthieu replied the same too, knowing it was a bullshit day here.

Still, could be worse, as the Brit walked back out, headed to his desk, nodding to the call centre team from across the room who had kept the dispatches in hand, picking his headset on, hearing constant, total complaining. The whole team might.

Friday
15:25
SDN Claremont

Frictionless

"Fucking bullshit! Plant's on emergency measures, but you are out of your fucking mind sending me there James!" He shook his head, sighing as his sister complained, realising fuck, she would never forgive him. But ah well. A job was a job, as he looked out of the window, the kind of laugh quietly forming off comms that came from laughing at a funeral. At least nobody would believe he had his favourites anymore. And she hadn't died so again, positives, it was a low risk job on system but no doubt a high one to her.

It wouldn't be fair to the reader to describe the smell, but, a rough guess could be made of Lightning Girl trying to stay above the clouds as she flew back. With only a provisional wash at the sewage works' staff showers, it wasn't a great look.

Backup treatment was now online, but the rest of the sewage plant had been now a fairly major disaster given how much sewage had decided to detonate it. The whole thing was now the matter of the water company to suck up and take to adjacent sewage treatment works, before it really stank out the neighbourhood. She'd left them with at least an electricity supply hooked up, but it was still a major repair, the kind that took more than one woman with a mobile battery. Not much anyone could do now, but hey, short of sending Waterboy, who the hell would have figured that one out? Did she short it? Or just get really unlucky? Maybe Asteroid would do better? He had smarts on him. Or maybe not, as it turns out from his dispatch comms.

Lightning Girl landed back down by what looked like an emergency exit on the ground floor by SDN Claremont, static shocking the thing and yoinking the door without ripping it out this time, running through past Samson, who had spotted her on the way back from a bathroom break.

"Damn, you smell like you crawled out of a sewer...." Samson commented, his hellish kitten with little paws up on the desk, looking at her, as Sophie scowled, almost so much as growling, and beyond fuming. Bullshit. She'd fucking kill James, sending her to a sewage works? On Gala day? Was he trying to sabotage her chances? Bastard!

She wasn't sure at all what to make of any of this. The smell wasn't entirely going to go. She looked in the mirror with disdain, the white of her suit worse than getting blood all over it. This was going to take way more than a dry clean. She walked into the shower, thinking about how once the secondary tanks were fixed things were fine, but the plant had been damaged more than it should have been, she'd ended up having to bolt her way out of that situation.....and right now, was in that sort of mood where she didn't want to think anything over. With a punch of the button in the showers, she hoped the stink that made a skunk seem like Chanel No5 was going to dissipate, at least, until she could grab the ocean of perfume and face wash she'd brought in her pack up in the breakroom.

With which, she did head on up, suit still sodden and powers absolutely trying to overload the smell, more like a damp ozone, petrichor to be specific, rather than sewage sludge, using paper towels to dry off the ballistic cordura and her face. The perfume as she would learn, did little for now, running up the stairs, checking her watch.

There was still 80 minutes of the shift left. Well, better get back to it, as she sighed, jogging through the office trying not to stay in one spot too long, looking at the sunset catching the horizon outside the windows. Running past her brother she would only give a deathly glance to James- before getting to the smoking area, easily leaping off the balcony as she blasted away, back into sky, trying to find a perch ready for the last stint.

---

Friday
16:58
James's Desk
SDN Claremont

End of Play

Another hour ticked on by. The last dregs of busywork, which was nothing really that notable. For heroes, if it wasn't fighting kaiju, speaking in front of hundreds of people, solving bomb threats, it wasn't going to be. But a gala later, and that slice of Hollywood they were getting to go to, well, that seemed a little different to other Fridays at work.

"Guys, that's us for the day. Everyone, RTB."

As the shift would come to a close, James had the chance to catch up with each hero individually. Sophie, understandably, had avoided James when she came in, still mad, but at least less mad because it was the end of shift, and now, gala time.

Blackstar returned after and might have been in the wake of the electricity-based hero, and she had pulled off quite a successful job earlier on that was a remarkably well executed task. James took an earbud off, and stood up, so he could peer over his half-cubicle better. He didn't often get to see the heroes individually come back from jobs, not beyond small talk.

@cosmiccowgirl

"Nice one, Blackstar. We should probably chat about it properly, but you are on fire, given how that shift went, and SAR couldn't speak highly of you enough. Like, check the leaderboard. I'm not a big fan of it, but, scores don't lie." James pointed to the tick-over it made, and Blackstar's name had clambered higher.

She was 2nd for the branch, behind a record that. Ahead of Lightning Girl, even Payback's hot streak over the week before. For LA, she was in the top 5% of deployed heroes, which for a new starter, was inconceivable. But aside from one or two fails, her deployments had been near flawless, especially in the major ones, two being significantly above KPIs related to completion time and success rate. Beginner's luck? Well, the roll of things she'd been on, maybe she just had that.

"It might not last forever, but honestly, end of month bonus will be very tidy if you keep this rate up by month end. SDN is pretty good at looking after people, not sure if you read it in your contract, but performance bonuses are sweet. Even if you're new." James shrugged, leaning against his desk, looking Blackstar up and down, knowing the shy dark energy heroine was still like Felix, getting used to people.

Blackstar was secretive, cautious. Phoenix Programme could be like that, sure, but a hero on salary? She knew what she signed up for. Being in the line of danger, being daring, confident, all of it, and was still, shy despite performing. And it wasn't an act, a mystery cloak kept to add aura or mystery. Blackstar just genuinely came out that way, and from the heavily redacted personnel file that James had, he knew she was trying to be careful about her past.

Although speaking of the usually shy feline, Felix had turned his head up to her after crawling between James's trousers and decided to flop onto Blackstar's boots, as if he was begging for attention. The mackrel tabby had found a nice bit of her laces to scritch himself against, and seemed content as ever, looking up at her with expectant eyes. Mostly because he'd been microdosed on a bit of catnip that Blackstar had brought in. For a growing boy, Felix was now getting tangled up in his green.

"Aww. He likes you. I think he knows who brings him the best supplies. He was off his face earlier. Super cute." James added, humoured by it, as he leaned back, finishing his cup of tea.

--

@SonnetNSunbeam

Asteroid was up next. He looked a little dishelved. He'd been out there what felt like hours with the old women. Poor bastard, James thought, as he let Blackstar go and looked over to him. Two black suited heroes, both with astral powers. Were they siblings too? Nah, Asteorid sounded like a preppie, Blackstar a southern tone.

"You really gotta learn when to say no to old ladies, Asteroid, I don't need to give you a training course to tell you that....." James chuckled, hoping that he wouldn't take too much offense, but a little gentle banter would go a while. As far as James could tell, he hadn't killed anyone in prison, so he was probably safe on that front.

"Anyway, keep up the good work, even if that was a miss, can't get 'em all. Diffused the situation at the cost of losing yourself to them, that's what I wrote in the report. Anyway. I'll catch up with you next week about that parole paperwork yeah?" James went back his comment from earlier, knowing that Asteroid had that to hang onto at least. And even in a low, he could offer some reassurance now.

---

@BigPapaBelial

The same went for Hat Trick, the upbeat, hockey-ready armoured Canadian a weird parallel to Matt, when James really thought about it. But he was getting it done. Reliable, always there, and smelling sweet, not shitty.

"Hey, big man. Nicely dealt with the tanker. Clean work. And thanks for the reminder about PR bits. Appreciate you covering a bit more than you're used to." James commented, realising he did have something for him.

"Clara faxed this across to me. Regional Marketing Lead, as you know.....shit, sorry, I mean Sunburst. She says she wants to catch up at some point next week with you, no idea what it was about. You'll probably make sense more than I do, but it's more on team-specific PR, billboards, marketing, that kind of thing here, and something she said you might be able to support on. Don't worry about it, but I nearly forgot." James said, passing across a stapled together booklet of papers, containing a bunch of emails, Hat Trick likely to be in the loop but James just giving a reminder.

Clara had emailed James to get onto Hat Trick while he was out working the streets, so, it seemed an appropriate time now to pass things on.

"I'll let you get dressed, should be a big night for you. I'm sure you'll have some showstopping suit, if I know what you're like...." James joked, smiling, looking over as the next hero was on their way in. "Anyway, see ya laters." He nodded, letting him go, knowing the man had places to be, suits to put on, and things to prepare for.

---

@Ezekiel

Last, but not least, Ikret. She may have been last back, but James guessed she'd likely wanted to have finish sooner, or at least, was trying not to raise attention on the first day as a fallen Icarus. Majestic as ever coming back inside, sarky, and James thought to call back to their earlier chat, picking up where they'd left off earlier.

"Nice one. For someone who tells me they doesn't behave, I'll take that. Turns out you know what you're doing, who'd have thought." He chuckled with a lick of sarcasm, looking over the heroine, fiddling with the pen in his hand.

"Things can get a bit more mental around here, so today's a chilled day. And, some of the other heroes will appreciate someone who's a good operator in the team when it does get hairy. Have a chat with them when you get a chance. They'll look up to you a lot. Blackstar definitely will have to, cos you know, you're taller." James added with a more serious tone yet keeping a lick of sarcasm in the end, not having much to say, the doors opening on the far side with two navy-blue uniformed police officers not moving too urgently being his cue to have a catch up of his own.

"Ah, yeah, they were coming by. Nothing to worry about, local liason meeting. Changing rooms are downstairs as I imagine you've already decided to dress up very fancy. I think we're all meeting by reception in half an hour." James turned off the console as with that, and stood out of his chair, letting Ikret get going, and before the team would head off, getting his meeting in with the fine officers of the LAPD.

---

Friday
17:10
Meeting Room
SDN Claremont

Bad Boys, Bad Boys

James sat in the boardroom, as the two police officers sat from across from him. The office was mostly quiet now, given the heroes were getting dressed, sorting their own admin out, and getting ready to go for the Gala. James had his own business to sort here first though, and a tux to quickly fit into after it was all said and done.

He sighed looking at the board that the two officers had brought in, and reflecting on what they'd just been talking about. It was a bit too heavy for a Friday night. But Superhero Liaison was literally what he'd done back in the UK's Superhuman Response Unit, a quasi-government monitoring agency that worked with police and GCHQ to co-ordinate resources and allocation, as well as deal with superpowered villains on a daily. Not quite like SDN, because in the US, they basically did that themselves. Having the police on side though, that was handy, and they had their own interest to stay ahead of the curve. Keeping the city's heroes on side too, was plenty enough.

"So you think that Pyress.....Queen Bitch, and Kevin the Destroyer, of all people, are linked? And Gaggle the Clown wasn't."

The female officer leaned across, nodding. Officer Hayle, as far as James had gathered. She'd been there the night things went down at the Claremont College dorms and Lightning Girl had come out on response, so she knew full well how supers worked. She spoke up first.

"Gaggle worked alone. That's an NSA problem, not ours. Whereas those there.....we're working on leads and we think there's something to it."

The board seemed ominous. How was a flame-throwing drug dealer, a roided up manosphere college student, and a narcissist that threw explosive glitter were linked, while in prison? Some link existed to Red Ring, sure, but what link at all? James didn't know what to say.

"Sure." James seemed skeptical, but not without reason. Of course there would be a ripple effect. Some gangsters fighting each other. It would happen. He didn't have anything to add, really, because he wasn't paid to investigate the root causes of crimes. He was there to manage a team of sometimes fuckheaded, sometimes decent heroes that would get the job done when other resources didn't work. Or subscribers dialled SDN's number before 911.

The older of the two police officers in the room leaned forwards, more, sighing.

"Listen. Only reason Officer Hayle thinks we should talk to you is because you're the only people that can fight supers on their own level. We don't have time for heroic bullshit. We need to find out who's in control of what's left of the Red Ring in the San Fernando Valley. And we are thin on the ground, so any suggestions are welcome." The Lieutenant began, sizing up James. As if he could control it himself. James knew that wasn't the case, as the senior officer across from him continued.

"We think there's the usual suspects. People they report to. But someone else is steering Shroud's empire from the shadows. Moving drugs. Guns. Augments. Contraband. Real threats. And that's why we're really interested in them. They weren't acting alone. Someone told them to come here to Claremont, and stir up trouble. And whoever is in charge, they're a step ahead of us. They took out half the suspects that were robbing banks and stores this week in Pasadena. We think something's up because the usual shtick ain't happening." He pointed to the board and pulling back, the post it note with a question mark on it, black pen on pink paper, probably saying it all.

And the lines detached out, with some question marks to a few others. Doctor Helix? Brick Frog? And lots of other unknown, shady figures. It seemed odd to have them there, but it felt like none of them were necessarily the mark they were looking for.

Great. A stereotypical cop that was nearly at retirement and didn't like supers, and his protégé, a young, bright-eyed cop that looked up to supers. No way this wasn't gonna be a cliche even worse than it was. James sighed, shaking his head, thinking on the last few months. The news, what had come out. All of the mess with the Red Ring. Fuck, that was an intense one Torrance and DTLA had dealt with. Sophie told him about the flames across the other side of the city. All manner of shit turning upside down. Nowhere near as bad as '92, but still, an insane blowout.

"Red Ring, huh? Thought they were all behind bars. Whoever's left has a lot to live up to Shroud's reputation." James reacted, as Officer Hayle sipped down her cup of donut-shop coffee, cutting off her superior, the Lieutenant likely to react worse.....

"They're trying harder without making it known who they are. And they seem to be choosing order over chaos right now. No big bank jobs, jewellery store heists, nothing this week. They're sucking up all the work all the gangs left behind, tested us with....who we arrested. We've come across a lot of gangland murders.....all of them are brutal. Making it clear they're not interested in petty squabbles. Detective Bureau think they're cleaning loose ends." Officer Hayle's way of putting it was loose, but the Lieutenant's wasn't.

"That of course, you don't get called out to deal with." The Lieutenant seemed almost pissed off. Like SDN was taking all the glory. And the LAPD weren't getting their share of any, rather, just the misery. James had to empathise with that. Wrong person to point that at, though.

"Someone seems to be doing this much, much more organised than just a normal gang, they....they're like the cartels but with villains. They know how to avoid hitting the hornet's nest, mostly, avoiding SDN. Stirring things up with heroes in direct fights seem to be off their cards. They're picking up business, and hoping we don't notice. We have no ID, nobody's snitching, everyone keeps saying it's Red Ring, and nothing more." Officer Hayle replied, as James folded his arms, leaning back.

"So then why are you here? All due respect, I'm...."

"Look, we thought it might be best to liaise with you. Whatever they're doing, this clearly goes higher. And your heroes are going to see things we don't. Find intel, weapons, caches, everything. Find something that puts this together. Because there's a good chance we don't, they'll get bolder. Start making plays Shroud wasn't willing to. They're not in this for revenge. They're in this for dominance of the market. And once that happens, they'll do whatever it takes to protect their bottom line. Including going after the LAPD, and supers." Officer Hayle added, cutting off the Lieutenant's thoughts, given she had taken the imitative to put this whole thing forwards.

"So you suggest we hit them first. Wherever they are. Right. That changes how we do things, Officer.....and that's above my paygrade. We're not a private militia for hire. We're a first response, under licence, independent. Tell us where to go when you have a bust and we'll go." James stated the obvious, wanting to see how this played out. He had to be careful here. Not like around Valerie, but more because saying the wrong thing, would get him in a whole heap of legal trouble.

"Maybe, but whoever at the top is going to keep pushing all of our resources until we push back. Hard." The Lieutenant cleared his throat, "I'm not putting my people at risk. I need a little more co-operation from SDN, James." He seemed to imply it was James's responsibility to do that a little more strongly than it was SDN's.

The circus had earned them plenty of plaudits locally. The Lieutenant wasn't so convinced.

"Well, I suppose you pay SDN to do that. We'll keep our ears to the ground. We've got a good team here, so when we know something, you'll know. I can't do detective work on top of running the A-Team." James replied, hoping that would be enough. It wasn't, as the Lieutenant leaned forwards, cutting off the younger officer.

"Back in the day, villains were put in ADX. Now it's all bullshit because I know Asteroid is out. Let alone Madcap and Eclipse. Jesus. Motherfuckers are probably drinking all that Kool-Aid." The Lieutenant seemed to play his cards there and then.

James didn't react, as even Officer Hayle seemed surprised, a little taken aback. She wanted progress, at least something, but fuck, was Dan Mason being an asshole right here and now to their best lead. He was jaded. Beyond done with this. Didn't care about how he came across, as she looked to James with a certain glimmer, beyond an offical capacity yet eschewing one, that it wasn't the line. James knew that Madcap in the B-Team wasn't his business to comment on, but even so, he was glad he couldn't make a reply to that and the junior officer did.

"Look, we need to put pieces together on why they came to Claremont in the first place. We think whoever it is, knows how the Red Ring's people worked. And before things escalate, we appreciate any help. If you know anything, anything at all, call us direct. We need to work together here. I know you need to go, so....." She added, the officer aware their time was up, and James hadn't been a helpful lead.

Standing up, James walked to the door as the other two shifted out of their seats, the day turning into night faster and faster outside the office window.
"Got it. I'll get in touch. Thanks for coming by." James really didn't have many words. It was a lot to take in. And he was burnt out. Who knew, a consultant could get tired and run out of energy for work, this kind at least. He'd come back to them with something more proper, as he held it open, looking out, all heroes gone, all likely getting set up.

"I believe I've got a social engagement. We'll catch up next week." James held it open, as the two police officers took that as a sign to leave. They were here on a social call, more than a formal query or questioning down at the station. So with that, what felt like an impromptu update was done.

The team would have 30 minutes to get changed, and James messaged the team to meet at the reception area when everyone was ready. He'd already did his End of Shift Report, and all the paperwork that nobody in the team really needed to know about.

All his stuff was done, and well, that meant only one thing. Giving Felix a quick stroke, he reached to his bag and pulled out the vaccum-sealed bag, opening it up, and chuckling. This better have fucking fit, he thought to himself, as he took off his work shirt and started to get changed.

Bit by bit, it all came together, as he headed to the break room, finding Hat Trick.

@BigPapaBelial

"Ah, shit. I forgot to mention, we're downstairs. Looking good. You look like you're from, what's the game.....ahh, forget it." James would only be seen by Hat Trick in his Gala suit, and well, it was a rather traditional tux, no power, nothing quite like what the large Canadian had. Hat Trick would realise what James was dressed in, as they headed to the lifts and made their way down.

Saints Row, that was it! He didn't want to say it now, James feeling like Hat Trick would occupy a lot more of the lift than him, but then again, nothing got past the Canadian, on ice, in the office, and no doubt, in the PR with this event no doubt.

---

Friday
17:29
Locker Rooms / Reception
SDN Claremont

Glitterball

Lightning Girl had just about finished. Looking in the mirror in the women's locker room, she smiled, a teethy, white grin with red lip on, as she adjusted her glove a little, making a move towards the doors. The others hadn't emerged yet, so the surprise was still on.

Soundtrack: Purple Disco Machine, ÁSDÍS - Beat Of Your Heart

Stepping out from the changing rooms downstairs and into the reception, Lightning Girl re-appeared, albeit suit removed, and someone else entirely on display. The dress was a shimmery, holo-like silvery-like colour, a bandage dress that seemed to take different strands of bandage-like fabric across her chest, with one larger piece in the abdomen and legs. It pushed her chest out but seemed fairly modest for what some might have compared it to a strapless design, albeit did come with a cut in the left leg that went up to the hip at a tuck of fabric, showing off a slice her pale-coloured leg, Lichtenberg scars visible. The same at her upper arms, where her muscle and her scars could be seen, like braids and rivers that seemed not to take any logical path from when she'd first been hit.

A set of silvery, rubber set gloves, up to her elbows obscured the rest, having a very shiny sheen in them. With her white hair parted over one side of her head, carbon fibre mask still across eyes and forehead, this seemed like a version of Lightning Girl that Sophie had wanted to unleash for a very, very long time. A version of shine, probably far more than anything Valerie would have been comfortable with. It showed off her beauty, her easy charm that hours ago, was nothing much beyond the white hair. It magnified her out, and with a pair of white heels on, put her to a height where she might be breathing in Hat Trick's air.

But Lightning Girl reasoned, forgiveness was easier to get than permission, right? And well, Ikret would likely have something just as shiny up her sleeve, Sophie guessed. Two shiny heroes was better than none. Or as it turned out, three, given Hat Trick's suit.

James and Hat Trick would appear from out of the lift, tuxedo on, having gotten dressed in the empty offices upstairs. A budget Bond? Well, the suit hire place had basically laughed at him with the fact he was British, but well, it was all they had in his size. He didn't have a full bore business suit that would fit the gala. So, tux it was. It strangely worked for him, black bow tie and he adjusted his smart watch on his wrist up to his cuff.

She looked across to her brother, a grin forming on her face, looking to the others. Who were all dressed up just as pretty, and no doubt, had their own swell as they would come out one by one.

"You look like Bond if he had problems with sunburn, James." Lightning Girl simply blurted, giving into impulse upon seeing him.

James folded his arms across his chest, sighing. "Well, you're such a try hard. Didn't someone tell you that you didn't need to be a mirrorball?" He jabbed right under the ribs.

The Gallagher brothers were one thing, but the Speights were without announcing any knowledge that the team would have, still a little their own. Instead of taking that on, Lightning Girl looked to Hat Trick, and his beautiful looking suit, glancing to the others with a "are you seeing this shit" kinda look before opening her mouth.

"Well, aren't you looking dapper. Purple and gold. You're feeling all regal, aren't you. Unlike our dispatcher, who's just a discount secret agent." She said with her most elequent, 19th century stereotype of a Downton Abbey accent in full, knowing Hat Trick would likely lap that up, because if he didn't enjoy a good PR occasion. The man was a lovable, gentle giant and while he may not have had the glamour of other heroes, he certainly had the glitz and was every workplace's feelgood guy.

Lightning Girl looked to the others as they turned up, seeing lights come on outside. Their ride was here. A blacked out limo that could fit the team, from the lightning-based Brit's ego to the wings of Ikret.

"Ready?" She asked the others, watching them come in, one by one, ready to give all the compliments when they turned up.

Because walking outside, with a door already open, the now capeless hero wasn't waiting for an invitation but instead threw herself headfirst, pulling herself up, leaning back in against leather.

"Okay, this is the good stuff! I mean they told us we can't all show off by turning up and flying or leaping there so this was it but.....we're going in a limo to Hollywood! Ahhhh!" She nearly shrieked, as if 17 year old her, as would literally anyone that would have been her age, now got to live out a fantasy, aged 29. This was the stuff of dreams for Lightning Girl, maybe not for some of the others, even to Ikret, another day. But to her, it was pretty sweet.

"Like genuinely, as a kid I never imagined this would happen. I know it's a work occasion but come on, this is cool, right? Oh, we should probably get a photo in while we're here!" Lightning Girl asked the others, a genuine smirk on her face, in spite of earlier's incident.

She seemed to have an ability to remain cheerful, but the main reason was that she had taken on lots more power when returning, and made a very strong mental note that she was going to have to be careful to touch, as she pulled out her phone from a pocket inside the dress, one she was very grateful to have. Leaning back, she posed her head in, and beckoned for the others, even Blackstar, who was no doubt cringing. A teethy grin, because she wasn't going to forget this moment for the world.

And even for James, a smile grew on his face, from earlier, from all the chats he seemed to have, her obsessive, almost demanding want to be there coming over more than anything. This was her dream, he told himself. And for one night, even if the smell of poo needed a lot more perfume than Sophie was expecting to cover, he had to be only a little bit proud of himself even in spite of this being work. Sitting at the end as the others all folded themselves in, from the tall Hat Trick to the.....width, mostly due to wings, Ikret, to Lightning Girl having to make sure her dress didn't catch on a seatbelt. Once that was done, the limo set off and they were Hollywood-bound, and it was only a matter of time until someone discovered that a bottle of Champagne had been left inside across from where they were sitting.

In dapper suit, much more fashionable then his normal power suits he wears when he's not in his armor in fact, Hat Tricks alterego, Tyler Ermineskin, comes out of the office. He's even tied a few extra feathers into his hair, pulling on his First Nations Heritage as well as his kickass fashion sense.

He skips down the steps, and even does a little tap dance step as he comes down. The man can be multi-talented when he wants to be. Reaching the last step he grins and points at the car, and flashes a thumbs up, "Eh-yo team, we're all looking good." The fashion crazy when he's not smashing heads crazy Canadian grins broadly.

Slipping into the car he nods, looking around, "Well damn they gave us one of the swankier limos for the trip." He brought out his phone and checked the Gala Guest list, wondering who they might meet along the way. As he looked at it he stopped, "Oh...well hello."

And begins to pour out a little bubbly champagne, no he's usually not in for alcohol, but sometimes you need to indulge. Just try not to get shitfaced on the light stuff, usually hits you the worst down the line. He picks up a flute, "Come on, let's get a little loose before we hit the real party." He smiles, "Hey everyone..." He lifts his phone and snaps a team photo, "Hehe, that's going on the socials."

Seconds later, the Claremont SDN official Xit pings.

@ClaremontSDNofficial @Team A @ClaremontHeroNews

Posted by - Tyler Ermineskin SDN PR

The just taken photo.img

And here is the Wild A Team, suited, dressed and booted, on our way to The SDN Gala in Hoolywood.

#Party! #Damndemlegs #Idontdrink #butiamasocialdrinker #ifyouhaveadrinkthensocialI

Tyler chuckles, "Hmmm no that won't get us into trouble. There have been worse hashtags posted by more popular Heroes and SDN PR reps."

---

---

Friday - 11:34am - Lunch

(( Collab : @SonnetNSunbeam/Asteroid & @cosmiccowgirl/Blackstar, [various] ))

Alaine was out of ideas. She couldn’t call John, it was pointless by then – only a couple of hours until the end of the shift, and there was no way he could find her something that quickly. She didn’t even know where he was, he might’ve been on the other side of the world and totally unable to help her even if he wanted to. Which was debatable.

She’d searched up some dress shops and clothing stores but had only managed to stop by one so far; but she'd never had a body that fit right in un-tailored, standard sizes... aaaand nice dress stores couldn't tailor your dress for you in an hour or two. You had to set aside, like, a month for that. Or so she understood.

Obviously she was getting a little nervous about the situation, but there were still a few stores she might be able to try.

Alaine let out a heavy breath, touching down on the roof of some apartment building and perching there a moment. Reaching into her jacket, she pulled out her phone – the real one, not the burner. She didn’t have Jet’s number on the burner, and she continued to be mildly horrified at herself for just casually carrying it around because of that.

Unlocking it, her gloved thumbs pulled up their texts. There weren’t too many – she’d been hesitant to message too often, for fear of becoming annoying.

Jet hadn't given her too much back. And he texted like he talked. With punctuation and everything. What he did send were a few random pictures.

Above the blinking line in her message box, was a grainy photo of two mallard ducks in a fountain. It'd been sent a little while ago.

Hey – you wanna get lunch together?

She sent the text off without letting herself worry too much. Yeah, she genuinely wanted to hang out if he felt like it, but maybe she had ulterior motives. She had the impression Jet knew what he was talking about when it came to clothes – he might let her pick his brain a bit, ask for suggestions…?

Alaine shook her head at herself slightly. Her lack of a formal dress wasn’t his problem… And she’d already literally googled dress shops. What was she hoping for, magic?

A word bubble appeared and disappeared on the screen a few times, a response popping into view. Short and sweet.

Thought you'd never ask. Any ideas?

Alaine absently scuffed one heel at the edge of the building’s roof as she thought for a minute, then typed up a quick suggestion.

There’s a food truck at June Vail Park?

Otw

Upon getting a confirmation text from Jet, Alaine tried to regulate her suddenly-quicker heart rate. She’d seen a flyer for the food truck at SDN, they were giving discounts to heroes. Normally she didn’t really even take lunch breaks at all, but if she was going to ask Jet to come hang out with her during lunch then she’d really better have a lunch.

She got to the food truck in record time – flying came in handy – and took a moment to peruse the menu. Seemed like it was just classic American stuff, cheeseburgers and the like.

When she spotted Jet she immediately perked up, subconsciously floating about an inch off the ground. Jet didn't notice her at first, but then his posture straightened. A lazy wave raised as he jogged closer.

“I’m buying,” she announced, before he could even say hello. She followed it up with a grin, adding, “And I’m not just offering because we get a hero discount, promise.”

Jet laughs. “Oh yeah? What makes me so special.” He offers her a fistbump. Inside the suit he locks down the urge to offer a hug.

Alaine caught herself before she just put her hand over his fist like a weirdo, gently returning the fistbump. “Well, your winning personality, of course,” she responded lightly, before tacking on with a chuckle, “And the fact that you’ve paid for me twice already, so. It’s only fair.”

Jet’s face gets hot under his mask- completely knocked off guard by her teasing him. “Okay- okay- I guess I concede.” He raises his hands in surrender. “I hope they've got fries.” He bounces on the balls of his feet, trying to let out some of his nervous energy.

Once they had their food, Alaine offered Jet her hand, her bottled water and cheeseburger held in the other. She didn’t explain herself, but when he took her hand she lifted off the ground and brought him with her, careful not to move too fast. It's gentle but she feels the tug of his gravity observations. The act of observation making something more quantum exist inexplicably.

There was a gazebo farther in the park, she’d seen it on the way in, and there were already too many people around the food truck eyeing the two heroes curiously; reaching the gazebo, she carefully lowered them down – but landed on the flat roof of the little building instead.

“How’s your shift going?” she asked as her boots touched the roof, and she gingerly let go of his hand once he had his footing as well. “You ready for tonight?”

Jet fights through the bite of his burger to speak. “Not really, I'm debating what color jewelry to wear. I've already finished my clothing though- I had to hem the jacket sleeves and pants. You?” He pops a fry into his mouth, with his left hand. On his too bright phone screen he navigates to Rey's chat on his phone. There is a photo of him swimming in an oversized black jacket. He turns the phone clearly towards Alaine. Beneath the photo, Rey's response is visible.

Looking like the hat man over there. 🤣

He swipes down and a relatively well tailored black suit coat with red embellishments appears.

Sipping her water, Alaine leaned over slightly to look at the screen turned in her direction, despite really not needing to. A small smile curled her lips at the oversized jacket and Rey’s response, which she couldn’t help but see; what was visible of her expression turned to interest at the second image, and she tilted her head a little. “Ooh, that’s perfect.”

Ah, he’d look so handsome in that. Those were her favorite colors too, black and red – she was getting the feeling he liked those particular colors as well.

She blinked, leaning back slightly and correcting,
“I mean – it looks really nice.”

Having a bite of her cheeseburger to stall, she pretended to be contemplating her own reply. Though, when she spoke again, she wasn’t quite addressing the question yet.

“You should wear gold. Gold is so pretty with black and red like that.” Alaine might not have been the most fashion-forward of her sisters, but she did know how to pair colors.

“I wear a lot of gold jewelry so I can never tell if I'm just biased on a decision like this.” He brings a hand to his lips, thumb idly stroking his bottom lip.

She cleared her throat lightly, glancing out over the park from their elevated spot. It was hard to get out a coherent response when her mind couldn’t make itself up on whether to be honest or just keep her worries to herself.

“I’m never ready for social events,” she settled on finally, knowing she needed to say something and thus opting for a joke. Until she blurted immediately after, “But, uh, no, I don’t have a dress. Yet.”

That was a pretty big “yet”, given the fact they were probably… four, three hours from the point where she’d need a dress? “I kind of forgot about it and I don’t have anything on hand. But!” She shrugged. “I’ll probably have a little more free time between dispatches here, it’s been pretty slow. I can probably find something.”

Alaine was trying to make it sound like as little of a problem as possible, and she was quick to change the subject. “That’s so handy, though, that you can do your own tailoring. I wish I was better at that sort of thing, but I nearly killed myself just trying to stitch up our kid this week.” She wiggled her gloved left hand and the bandaids hidden on her fingers underneath, grinning again – “our kid” referencing the black and red bear she’d presented him with earlier.

The Asteroid mask looks strange when Jet's mouth is hanging open. Which it does the entire time she is talking. “It's cutting it pretty close, do you-” he pauses trying to hash out how many ways he could offer help. “Want some help figuring that out?” Jets not even sure how he's gonna help. He just wants to and that's enough for him to offer.

“Oh, nah, no, it’s okay,” Alaine began automatically, ignoring the fact that she had literally considered the whole point of lunch being asking for his help when she texted. “Really, I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’m a master procrastinator, ha, I do this all the time.”

As her old school projects could attest, she wasn’t new to waiting until the last minute to do something. It had always turned out fine… uh, academically. She’d never really pushed things so far with social stuff. …It’d still probably be fine. Honestly, just coming clean about it to Jet was making her feel a little less daunted.

“It’ll be fine,” Alaine said again with another shrug, as if trying to will a “fine” outcome into existence.

He takes a moment to catalog the fabric stash at his apartment and Rey's house, in his mind. Ideas about a Red and Black dress come up first. Something elegant, cinched fabrics. The thought of the dress hugging Alaine's curves makes him swear under his breath. He clears his throat- “I might be able to hit up some old connections- or-”

Inspiration strikes Jet like lightning. A memory of his mother, in a dress slightly too big for her at one of his father's business engagements. Shimmering fabrics, a deep color. It's moments like this when he wishes he could just pick up the phone and call her. Mrs. gilded cage herself.

But he just got this burner phone and he really didn't want to get another.

“My- mother-” he chokes on the word a little bit “has maybe the perfect dress for this. It's just a little big on her, she's- about 4 inches shorter than you. It was beautiful, but I don't think she's worn it in probably a decade. But that woman never throws anything out.” A plan is starting to sketch itself out in his mind.

Alaine looked over in surprise, staring at Jet wide-eyed behind her mask. Was he really suggesting she borrow a dress of his mom’s? Wasn’t that, like, girlfriend-of-three-years-that-your-mom-adores-like-her-own-daughter level borrowing? She almost felt shy. “Oh– well, uh…” Honestly, how did she answer? It would help her out a lot…

He's wondering how much worse her closet has gotten in the years since he's been home. There was never time for him to learn the gravity signatures of home before they'd shipped him off to juvee and then finally prison. In fact, he never posted bail. His father had refused to be associated with a criminal, didn't matter that Jet was his son. Jet suppresses a shiver, and then continues to explain.

“Okay here's what I'm thinking- on the way back from our last calls, you run back to my place and grab my clothes. I'll sneak over to my parents, slip in, grab the dress, slip out. Then we can get dressed in the locker room at the office.” When it comes out of his mouth he realizes just how reductionist he's being about the situation. This would likely be one of his hardest break-ins yet, and it was into his own childhood home.

Great. Yeah. He can do this.

She was staring at him again, half-eaten burger in one hand and water in the other like she’d completely forgotten about them.

“I mean – are you sure?” Alaine finally replied, remembering the food and drink in her hands just long enough to switch both over to one hand, using the other to reach up and pull the top half of her mask down. She felt like she needed him to see her eyes.

“Look, if– if you’re really, absolutely sure that’s okay–” Okay with his mom, yeah, but… okay for him, too. He hadn’t ever talked about his family, but he’d been open enough about Rey… which made her think his relationship with his family might be complicated. “–Honestly, that would really help me out.”

She paused a moment, then added, giving him the most meaningful look she could manage, “You really don’t have to, though. If it doesn’t work out for any reason, really, don’t sweat it. Also, though, if you end up needing a hand or anything… just let me know.”

Alaine just gazed at him for a second, whether he was meeting her eyes or not. Wow. This guy… this guy. She didn’t know what to think, but everything she was feeling was very warm and fuzzy.

Jet took his cue from Alaine and pulled his mask off. He glanced around and felt pretty secure that no one was paying attention to them up here. At least at the moment. His eyes are just a little watery, but it's hard to tell what from. Adjustment of the light without his mask? Probably.

“If it doesn't work out, I'll still show up with something.” Quick as lightning he reaches out with his gravity to identify her measurements.

He's made it through his burger by the time they've finished scheming and he takes a moment to sip his drink quietly and just spend some time in her company. “This was really nice Bee, thanks for the invite.”

She huffed out a little laugh, tugging her mask up into place again. “Thanks for coming, Louie.”

“Do you usually get carry out for lunch?” He crumples his trash up and sweeps the crumbs off the edge of the gazebo’s roof.

“Ha, no,” Alaine replied, grinning widely. It was an ambiguous truth, which she’d always thought she was pretty good at. Of course, if one pieced together the fact she never brought a lunch to work and that she didn’t usually get carry out for lunch…

Jet filed that into a different file folder. One for after the emergency of the gala. He reaches slowly and rests his hand atop hers for a moment. “I should get going, James is dispatching me.”

Her hand moved without her brain’s permission, turning over to grab his briefly. She could hear that beep of connection in her earpiece and knew she was probably about to get handed another dispatch too.

“Yeah. I’ll see you later.” Her fingers tightened around his fractionally, the lightest of squeezes – then she made herself let go, giving him a small smile. She stepped towards the edge of the roof, getting ready to take off herself but pausing to add, “Hey – be careful, okay?”

---

---

James lets them know they're going to have a touchpoint before the day is over. He's coming back from his last dispatch of the day, and he's tucked a set of civies into a small bag he's carrying with him.

Tossing glances in every direction, his finger twitches and the manhole cover in front of him bursts from the ground. Sewer steam puffs out around it. When it clears, he scales the ladder inside and as soon as he's cleared the opening, the cover clatters shut.

The boots on his feet make a familiar sound against the debris and gravel at the bottom. When he turns his head he reaches up to turn on the flashlight on his motorcycle helmet. He has to fight a recoil at the memory of his helmet smashed and broken on pavement.

So instead of relying on light- he relies on his memory and his gravity to keep from falling into the sewage. Once a little ways in, he swaps into civies and stashes his uniform so that he can change before his meeting with James. He's across town very quickly this way- not having to worry about grades in elevation or cameras tracking him.

About two blocks from his father's estate, he scrambles up and out of the hole. It's here that he throws his net out and is overwhelmed by the sheer amount of stuff to analyze. So he has to get closer. Swearing, he ducks back into the sewer and pushes through his better judgement.

Before he knows it, he’s lifting the manhole cover right behind the property. He'd go to the one directly in the wine cellar but even Jet's not that ballsy. He wonders at what his father might actually do at this point. Sure this is entering- but is he breaking anything if he flips the lock with his powers and no one is wiser?

Jet's pulse hammers in his chest at the thought- would he go back to prison? Would his mother cover for him this time? Black spots haze the edges of his vision.

B A C K S L I D E

He's barely 16 again, standing in court- his father standing in the back of the room. A ten year sentence with possibility for probation handed down like it was a mercy. For an accident. The horrified look on his mother’s face. The- glint- of evil in his father's eyes. He spent years convincing himself it was the trick of the light- but with every unanswered letter- each day without any supporting funds in prison- he grew to understand the depth of his hatred.

Or at least he thought he did. Then he was served a notice by the same lawyer that had failed to represent him fairly. Mr. Beck was a round man, with tiny spectacles, and short stature. Years later Jet might call him sleezy. “I'm sorry kiddo-” normally Jet would've snarled at the man, but he was so torn down by the entire experience he was barely talking at that point. A boy with a buzzed head, dark purple bags under his eyes, that wouldn't make eye contact with his own lawyer. “Your father wanted to make sure you were delivered this paperwork and that you signed this acknowledgement of separation from the-” the lawyer stumbled through it “-from the Road family proper. They feel your powers are an indication of your commitment to another- another family- one of evil. Jesus-” the lawyer stands up tossing a file folder across the table at him.

Jet never saw that man again. But he never stopped seeing the words he delivered. Words that were carved into every surface imaginable- haunting him. Sometimes written in blood on tile after a brawl in the bathroom over resources. Scratched into the mirror in the morning. On the back of his eyelids, every, single, night.

He's shaking, holding onto the ladder by the time he comes back to himself. What is he doing right now? Maybe he can find Alaine a gown somewhere else. Alaine. Bee. Blackstar. Starshine. She deserves a beautiful gown- and- he wants to tell his mom about her.

So Jet does the unimaginable. He pulls himself out of the sewer, dusts his pants off, and walks around to the front of the house. A large wrought iron fence, embellished defensive spikes reaching toward the sky. A flip of the lock and he's marching up the front walk right up to the front door. Four loud knocks.

His mother answers the door- because he knew she would. Mr Roads is never home. His mom bursts into tears and ushers him inside the door. She fusses momentarily, but he's able to reassure her after a bit of coercion.

Inside her closet, presumably a place with fewer recording devices, he tells her about a special girl. One that's driving him crazy and somehow keeping him sane. With ocean eyes and a kind smile. His mother hugs him and he has to laugh to keep himself from crying out at the rib pain. She gives him three dresses to choose from and Jet is pretty sure he knows which one she'll choose.

They arrange their next meeting, which is way sooner than is probably advisable. Then he gives her the call line to SDN just in case his father flies off the handle at him being there. Hopefully he won't even notice.

Jet leaves out the backdoor and carries the choices back to Alaine. His heart feels like it's going to beat out of his chest.

---

---

Alaine had at least remembered to text Jet for his apartment number; she remembered the building, of course. She’d tried not to, but she couldn’t help picking it out when she flew over that side of town. And now that she knew what floor he was on, well. She’d probably be remembering that too.

Was that creepy of her? Kind of, maybe, but like – unintentionally. She just remembered stuff.

She touched down on the roof of the building; the door up there was locked, but that wasn’t much trouble for someone who could just melt through it with cosmic energy. Not that she was going to do that, of course.

Jet also told her which window was unlocked in case of emergency. It was a mid-sized window so she didn't have any problems slipping inside.

Jet’s apartment immediately had Alaine feeling at ease, though that might’ve just been because it looked like someone actually lived there. She stood still for a moment upon entering, taking it in – wow. A couch. Now that she thought about it, when was the last time she’d ever actually seen a couch? She’d just been at work or in some couch-less apartment, or maybe running to a grocery store, 24/7 for the past… while. That and the small TV were practically luxury to her after living in barebones rooms for so long.

And the ceiling. Red. That was unique. Did the apartments come that way, or had Jet done that? She liked it. The way the afternoon sun looked on it was perfect.

Dragging her gaze down, the sunlight caught on something else – a fishtank. Alaine’s face lit up and she bounced over, bending down to wave in from a respectful distance.

“Hi!” she greeted, grinning at the goldfish floating around inside. “You’re Ducky, yeah? Nice to meet you. I’m Alaine. Or Bee. Or Blackstar. Whatever.”

The goldfish seemed to be looking at her, but she wasn’t 100% sure. Alaine shuffled a little closer, dropping her voice. “Has Jet talked about me at all? I mean, I guess we’ve only known each other a couple of weeks – but that’s like half a month, right?”

Ducky’s fins waved slowly back and forth. Alaine shrugged. “Ah, you’re right, I’m crazy. Sorry. You look great, by the way, I love goldfish. Okay, I’ll leave you to it…”

She straightened up, glancing around and reminding herself to get back on track. Suit. Where was it…? She spotted what she assumed was a closet, walking over and opening the door to peek in.

“Ooh,” she mumbled to herself as flipping the light on revealed a walk-in closet; she wouldn’t have known it was carefully organized at a first glance, but she could tell everything seemed to be squared away. A bit of blue caught her eye – she thought she recognized that jacket he’d told her about two weeks ago, when she gave him a lift from the bar.

Unable to resist, Alaine reached out and touched the sleeve lightly. She bet he looked nice in it. And she missed having her own favorite articles of clothing.

She shook her head slightly, getting back on track again. Ah, there was the suit. She went to retrieve the ensemble, admiring Jet’s handiwork up close. And… jewelry? Maybe she should grab some for him.

A little more searching around – respectfully, of course – and she found a couple of boxes that both held gold. She wasn’t sure why there were two different boxes, but she assumed it was just an overflow situation. And she wasn’t sure which items Jet might want, specifically, but…

After some deliberation, she’d finally picked out a handful of things. Maybe more than was necessary, but that was just so he had options. There was a lovely gold watch with a red face that was literally the perfect match to his suit, so she was sure to grab that and tuck it, along with the other accessories, very carefully into one of the inner pockets of her jacket. It zipped up so she’d be sure not to lose anything, and Alaine retraced her footsteps to make sure she left everything just the way she’d found it.

Suit and shoes in hand and jewelry in pocket, she gave Ducky a little wave and said bye, then ducked out of the apartment.

---

James' voice took Alaine out of her thoughts; she'd just touched back down on the balcony and strolled into SDN, Jet’s suit held in her arms – hopefully non-conspicuously. People might just assume it was whatever she was wearing for the night… if they didn’t notice the men’s shoes. She was on her way through the office and down to the locker rooms when James’ voice made her pause.

"Nice one, Blackstar. We should probably chat about it properly, but you are on fire, given how that shift went, and SAR couldn't speak highly of you enough. Like, check the leaderboard. I'm not a big fan of it, but, scores don't lie."

Blackstar blinked -- not that he could see it under her mask -- and stopped to look at the board he indicated. She hadn't even thought about that thing, much less glanced that direction, since she started working. It seemed James wasn't just messing with her though; her name was up higher than quite a few others. Even Lightning Girl.

She probably should've felt proud of herself. Instead she just felt her stomach turn over queasily. What good was a leaderboard when the people she really wanted to think she was doing a good job didn't think so? Her family didn't even know what she was doing, who she was. And John -- she was pretty sure John was doubting she was as in-control as she said she was, and that was the big thing he was always insisting on. Stay in control. Who knows what might happen if you let these powers get the upper hand. You always have to be in control.

"It might not last forever, but honestly, end of month bonus will be very tidy if you keep this rate up by month end. SDN is pretty good at looking after people, not sure if you read it in your contract, but performance bonuses are sweet. Even if you're new."

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Well--" No, she hadn't read her contract. John had told her to just take it and sign it, so she did. "Ha, I'll try to keep it up, then."

She could feel him looking at her. Alaine glanced back James' way and found, yet again, her instinct was right; he looked like he was studying her. She couldn't read the expression on his face.

What did he see? Was he suspicious? That couldn't be normal, for someone only a couple of weeks in to be second on the branch leaderboard. Right? Did he think she was a plant or something? John hadn't told her what exactly he'd slapped together to be condensed for her personnel file. Some stunts he'd had her do in her new suit to look hero-y, that was in there she knew, but what else?

What was James thinking? It was driving her mildly insane. What if he knew about other incidents, seemingly unrelated to her at first, but now the similarities were appearing? She wished she could read minds, just to make sure he wasn't putting pieces together. Surely he wasn't, though. He couldn't. Unless he could. Unless he was. Unless he did. Did he know?

The stars flickered warily at the corners of her eyes. She could feel the color draining from her face, so she was glad the majority of said face was covered.

"I-I'm sure it's just beginner's luck, though," Blackstar tacked on, both to try and explain it away and to lower any expectations he might be forming. She cleared her throat lightly and tried to act as if her mouth hadn't gone dry, offering James a small smile that she hoped didn't look nervous.

She was going to try to say something else to derail the topic but a little furball suddenly appeared and trotted over to her. Alaine shut her mouth, going very still as she watched Felix approach; when he flopped himself against her boots, some of the tension in her body visibly relaxed.

"Aww. He likes you. I think he knows who brings him the best supplies. He was off his face earlier. Super cute."

As James spoke again she bent down, carefully scooping the kitten up with one hand and loosely holding him against her chest. Felix bonked the top of his head on the underside of her chin and an involuntary little smile tugged at her lips.

"...Yeah. I know where to get the good stuff," she joked lightly, gloved fingers scratching around Felix's ears before migrating under his chin. His purring intensified and he stretched his neck out to prolong the scritching. “Yeah? Yeah…”

Her voice went high-pitched, Southern drawl growing a little more pronounced with the babytalk. “Ain’t that right, lil’ guy? Yeah? Auntie Bee knows whatcha like. I know what all the animals like, I’m an animal person. I used to have a–”

She stopped, catching herself and remembering she was in the office still; giving James a sheepish grin, she shrugged and gave Felix one more little stroke before stepping over to reluctantly but gently deposit him back on the consultant-dispatcher’s desk.

“Well. I’m glad he’s happy,” she said, switching back to her usual voice and addressing James. “And, uh – thanks for the heads-up about the leaderboard. I’d better go get ready for this gala thing, though – guess I’ll see you in thirty?”

Or twenty-five, she was cutting it kind of close. With that she straightened up, gave James a little salute, cast one more hesitant glance back at the leaderboard, then turned to head down to the locker rooms.

Making it down, she carefully hung up Jet’s suit; she didn’t know much about nice clothes, but she did know suits needed to stay flat or they’d wrinkle up. She didn’t know how fast said wrinkling happened, but the way her mom used to fuss about it she’d think it happened in mere seconds.

---

He took the dress down into the sewer with him.

That- was probably a choice, but it was the safest way he could figure to check if he was being tailed. He held the clothes up with gravity as he swapped back into his uniform in his original spot. Then he hightailed it back to the office. He hung the gown in the locker room in a stall. Looking it over once, he straightened it on its hanger before locking the stall from the inside and then basically running up to the cube farm.

He passed Blackstar on his way in, mouthing to her ‘locker room’, before pivoting his attention directly to James. He’d probably taken too long of a break- maybe James would say something about that?

"You really gotta learn when to say no to old ladies, Asteroid, I don't need to give you a training course to tell you that....."

Asteroid felt like a dead fish with the dead pan expression under his mask that he didn’t feel the need to police. The events of the rest of the day had thankfully erased the painful memory of an old woman’s heel from his spine. Now- his nerves were revisiting it. Ouch.

He tinted his response with a lighthearted laugh- ”Yeah I do seem to get an inequitable amount of calls with elderly though. Would my dispatcher happen know anything about that?” Jet’s head tips and his shoulders shake just slightly from laughter. It’s a very visible display, trying to compensate for his lack of positive facial expressions.

Not only does Jet need this job. Jet- likes this job. Maybe even loves this job. The realization has his stomach dropping to his toes.

"Anyway, keep up the good work, even if that was a miss, can't get 'em all. Diffused the situation at the cost of losing yourself to them, that's what I wrote in the report. Anyway. I'll catch up with you next week about that parole paperwork yeah?"

Okay now his stomach is somewhere beneath the Earth’s crust. The gentle reminder of their previous conversation. Of his conditional employment, and James’ belief and investment in him. Jet feels like he’s about to fall over with the weight of the emotions of the day.

”O-oh yeah!” His voice is uncharacteristically high-pitched so he tries again. ”Let me know if you need anything from me- I really- I really like this job. I’ll see you at the Gala?”

He gives James a thumbs up and hustles over to the locker room after Alaine.



When he rounds the corner to her locker, he calls out- “Hey Bee.” It’s two breathy separated beats.

“Got your suit,” Alaine announced on spotting Jet, motioning to the outfit and smiling as she added, “I love your apartment, it’s so pretty! Ducky says hi, also.”

She put her hands in her jacket pockets before feeling a weird shape on the inner lining and abruptly remembering the rest. “Oh, and– ah, here…”

Alaine removed her hands from the outside pockets and fumbled with her jacket, finding the correct inner pocket and unzipping it to retrieve the articles of jewelry. “I brought some of your jewelry, I just kind of picked what looked like it went with the suit. Wasn’t sure how much you wanted so I probably got too much, but at least you’ve got options?”

Suddenly she was feeling kind of nervous, and she wasn’t sure if it was because her jewelry-selecting skills were about to be judged, because of the chat she’d just had with James, because she was about to have to put on a dress, or because there was a whole gala to attend. Probably a bit of everything.

Jet wants to hug her. Like, arms around shoulders, pull her directly into his arms and just hold her. She remembered jewelry? He holds his hand out to receive it and the world spins under his feet. It’s- perfect. Some of it he would have chosen- some not- but definitely not the watch. Somehow, she’d found the most important accessory he owns.

His gold watch with a red face. It was the watch his mother gave him on his 15th birthday. The one before he was arrested. Before the incident, he never took it off. It was likely the start of his appreciation for gold jewelry.

It was on his person when they booked him. When he walked away from prison, not having anyone to pick him up, he shoved it into his underwear. Terrified that someone would rob him and take the last thing he owned.

There were so many times he nearly hawked it to feed himself. His powers always convinced him that was the wrong decision. Or- reversed it, when necessary. Jet’s banned from a large number of pawn shops in L.A.- not something he’s proud of. But a fact nonetheless.

Suddenly the mask is stifling him and he pulls it off aggressively. His eyes are locked on Alaine’s mask. His eyes are unreasonably soft- he feels tears prick his eyes but gravity keeps the evidence below his eyelids. A fun trick he learned in prison.

The way he starts her name is a slip and slide of syllables- “A-S-Bee, this is perfect. Thank you-” a laugh- “I can only hope I did half as well.” His face splits into a grin as he motions to the changing stall. ”I set them up there. Let me know what you think, you can wear some of the stuff you brought me jewelry wise.”

Alaine felt her heartbeat skip just a little when she caught the way he almost said her real name. She tried to tamp it down, about to assure him that literally whatever he brought was fine, when he caught her off guard by saying she could even wear some of his jewelry.

Oh, he was so sweet. Why’d he have to keep doing that? She couldn’t wear the man’s jewelry, he’d literally already done so, so much for her–

But she couldn’t get the protest out, stuck staring at him from behind her mask as he took the jewelry. The way he was looking at her was making her feel all sorts of ways. She couldn’t even remember how to talk – but she was overcome with the sudden thought that she ought to be hugging him.

“R-Right. Uh – thanks.”It was the best she could do, and with that she offered him a small smile and quickly turned on her heel to go see what this dress from Jet’s mom looked like.

It was stunning. Simple but elegant, off the shoulder, some tulle that seemed to make a sort of trailing cape – and all a beautiful red color that made her eyes happy. Alaine tugged her mask down and her gloves off, starting to reach for it but hesitating.

It looked so nice. And expensive, probably. And, just… not like something she was supposed to be touching. Yikes, when was the last time she’d even worn a dress?

She swallowed her misgivings and powered through, shutting her brain off just long enough to strip out of her suit and carefully pull the dress on. She couldn’t see herself properly just by looking down, and there weren’t mirrors in the stalls – she at least managed to get the subtle zipper up in the back, but there was an extra clasp under the ruched neckline that she couldn’t quite get. Maybe she could ask Jet.

Hair down, she did note a strand of red falling forward past her shoulder and remembered her peekaboo dye job; she had an idea of some kind of low bun she might be able to manage to hide it, especially since the ends of the red were fading a bit and looking less vibrant. It was a pretty unique color situation, so she was worried that if she just let everyone see it they’d be able to spot her as a civilian outside of work with no trouble.

Jet turns and grabs his clothes after she enters the stall. With her in the stall, he changes in the open, leaving on his white undershirt and underwear. It doesn’t take him long to put on his pants, belt, and shoes. But then he takes a minute to fix and gel up his hair in the mirror in the locker.

When Alaine stepped out of the stall she was fiddling with her hair, trying to get it into that low bun – focused on the task and the time, she hurried over to the mirror next to Jet, starting to say with a faint laugh, “I almost forgot I had this red in my hair, I–”

And about then she actually looked at him in the mirror, words dying in her mouth as she completely forgot what she was going to say. He didn’t even have the jacket on yet, but that was kind of what she found so attractive about it. Just him in his nice pants with his undershirt, hands in his hair. With no mask to hide it, the bright blush on her face was pretty obvious.

“Y-You look nice,” she managed, staring for a second before catching herself and clearing her throat. Right, she needed…to…

And it was about then that she caught sight of herself in the mirror and was left at a loss for words again, slowly stepping back so the mirror could catch more.

Her first thought was that that dress really was too nice for her to be touching, and her second thought was that maybe she actually looked kind of pretty.

Of course, the third thought was her mom’s voice in her head, suddenly butting in to exclaim in dismay over her bare shoulders and slight cleavage and the way it clung to her hips and–

Yeah, that was why it was always years in between every time she wore dresses or tried to look nice and feminine. There was always something wrong with it every time she did, at least according to her mom. She was sure her mom was just trying to be helpful… but Laverne Barrows was also literally the tiniest woman ever, so every little curve on Alaine was always too obvious. It was a weird mix of feeling pretty but also criticizing any tiny thing, which led to her usually just giving up and going for the more coverage, less attention option.

“Do I look– okay?” Alaine asked uncertainly, tentatively adjusting the off-shoulder sleeves and suddenly feeling very exposed. She could see the random freckles on her shoulders that she used to swear lined up like constellations, but now she just saw spots. And her hair looked messy. And the dark circles under her eyes were a lot more noticeable now that she was staring at herself without a mask…

Her hands shifted, adjusting the dress around her waist, fiddling with the cape-like train, playing with her hands in front of herself – all of it little anxious movements that weren’t really doing anything. “I think – I-I don’t know. I don’t know about nice clothes. I look weird. Not the dress, the dress is beautiful, I really owe you and your mom one, but – I look weird in it. Don’t I? Like I’m not supposed to be wearing it?”

Jet’s jaw is hanging open through her ramblings- only partially absorbing the words that she’s saying. But then she says something that makes him put the brakes on immediately. “Woah hey- not at all. You look” Jet swallows, letting his eyes trail down her frame and back up. “Absolutely stunning Alaine.” He practically whispers her name. “I honestly think this dress was basically made for you as it is.” He presses a finger to the top of her shoulder, and gently pushes. Making an attempt to get her to turn.

All her nervous fiddling had tapered off near immediately, her hands going very still as Jet looked at her. She felt a subtle shiver run all the way from the soles of her feet to the top of her head and had that same feeling that she was supposed to be hugging him right about then.

“Let me check the back.” Jet’s eyes find the undone clasp, and then immediately find the ceiling. He’s desperate to press a kiss right above it. “Is it okay if I do this for you?” A beat passes and then he’s offering her an out- “I can always use my powers if you’d prefer.” The tops of his cheeks are red, and the hair is standing up on his forearms.

“Oh – no, yeah, please,” Alaine replied, voice a bit higher than usual. She cleared her throat lightly and laughed a bit, glancing over her shoulder at him then quickly looking ahead again. “You can just use your hands, I don’t mind.”

Jet takes the answer and slides closer to her. The side of his hands collide with her upper back as he uses his powers to at least help him pull the clasp open with a bit more precision. It was his ex’s favorite parlor trick. His chest squeezes at the memory of his lover turned bitch and he swats it away as quickly as it appeared.

When the clasp is secure, his fingers linger on it for just a second. The heat from her skin warms him and he averts his eyes to the ceiling once more. When he lets go, he feels the loss in his chest.

Alaine swallowed, her hands again fiddling in front of her again – for completely different reasons that time. “Thanks. And–”

She turned around, finding she was quite a bit closer to him than she’d realized. She felt heat flush her face again but she didn’t move away, looking right at his collarbone briefly before her eyes went up his throat and finally settled on his face again.

“–Thank you for doing this,” she went on softly, gesturing vaguely at herself and the dress. “Seriously, I really – really owe you one. And your mom. Was she okay with it? I mean – uh, you don’t have to answer that, sorry, I don’t mean to pry.”

Jet’s mouth moves just a little slower than normal in response. “Oh- she was so happy too. I think she’s only worn this once, and she loves to share clothes.” He gives her a genuine smile, but there’s something about the way the light hits his eyes that’s wrong.

She thought, maybe, that there was a half-truth in there. But she hardly had room to wish it was a whole truth, as many half-truths as she’d told him. “Well, make sure you let her know how much I appreciate it, yeah?”

Aside from figuring out the mask situation, all she had to do was throw on the slip-on shoes she’d brought in her backpack – not the fanciest of options, but she figured the dress could hide those, and she could always just hover around if she needed to.

“Do you need any help?” she asked, blinking and adding with a faint laugh, “I did get the right stuff, I hope?”

Shrugging on his coat, he hands her the intricately designed red and black pocket square. “Help me with this?”

Alaine bobbed her head with an affirmative little hum, adjusting the fold of the pocket square before stepping closer to tuck it into the breast pocket of his jacket; she fiddled with it maybe a moment longer than was really necessary, but her artistic eye wouldn’t be satisfied with an uneven look.

With their outfits situated and hair done, all that was left was the shiny stuff; Alaine hesitated to actually reach for any of it for herself, thinking she’d just wait until Jet had what he wanted out of the lot. He holds up the jewelry and offers her some of the spare stuff. A chain necklace and a bracelet. He offers each to her and helps her put them on. He puts on one of the remaining gold chains.

Of course, she couldn’t help suggesting a certain piece or two for him herself – and when he reached for the watch she felt a sudden tug in her chest.

“Here – um, let me.” Alaine reached out, gently catching his hand; with her own free hand she reached for the red-faced watch, handling it carefully. It felt expensive. Gingerly turning his wrist over, she wrapped the gold band around him, brows furrowing slightly as she fastened it – not too loose, not too tight. Her fingers were warm against his inner wrist as she tried to both not touch him too much but also touch him as much as she could, probably standing a little closer than was necessary.

“This is a really pretty watch,” she mused, turning his hand over again to observe her work and adjusting the timepiece superficially. “Where’d you get it? Or is that a question I shouldn’t be asking?” she added jokingly, glancing up at him with a little smile then down again.

“How about I tell you later? What I’ll say is you picked my favorite watch.” He smirks at her, but pink dusts his cheek bones. It’s a vulnerable piece of info- maybe he’ll get there. Maybe he won’t.

“Ohh okay, okay, so this is totally a super secret spy watch, huh?” she teased, satisfied with the watch and glancing up again in time to catch that color on his face. That only made her want to know more… but, again, as many secrets as she kept, she hardly had a right to demand more. “That’d probably be my favorite watch, too.”

Finally letting go of his hand, she moved to go retrieve her backpack from her locker and grab those slip-on shoes – along with digging around and praying those old prototypes were still in there from when John had been asking her what she liked. Luckily there was one – black, of course, and a lot more revealing than usual, only covering a portion of the top of her face. It didn’t have the shaded lenses, either – not for a prototype.

“Should we head back upstairs?” He slides on the mask that only covers his eyes, and he’s suddenly feeling very un-Asteroid like.

Leaning against the counter with one hand, Alaine slipped her shoes on then straightened up, looking in the mirror to make sure she had the mask situated correctly on her face. Seeing so much of herself made her stomach churn a little nervously, but she tried not to think about it.

“Yeah, probably,” she agreed, clearing her throat lightly and pulling her anxious gaze from the mirror to look at Jet. Her eyes glanced quickly over him, at first assessing as if trying to make sure he wasn’t missing anything – but it turned appreciative as she looked at his face again, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“I like being able to see your eyes,” she declared, head tilting slightly as she looked over at him. Something else occurred to her then, and she felt her face growing warm as she asked, “You, uh – you don’t mind that we’re… kind of matching?”

Alaine gestured between the two of them. The red, black, and gold theme they were sharing was obvious. It wouldn’t be too crazy for others to make the assumption that they were matching on purpose.

Jet flushes at the comment about his eyes. “I don’t mind.” The words were out before she could second-guess them. “But, I mean, um. I can try to stay on the other side of the room from you so it’s not so obvious,” she suggested, half-joking. She would though, if that was what he’d prefer.

They’re moving through the door back to the general populous by the time he can answer her. “Somehow prefer it- actually.”

---

When Blackstar and Asteroid made it up to reception, Hat Trick, Lightning Girl, and James were already there. They all looked absolutely stunning, and Alaine had to remind herself that she could actually be seen staring with her new mask so she hurried to get her facial expression under control. The fact that she had to worry about that made her anxious, on top of everything else.

Lightning Girl was currently poking fun at their dispatcher, calling him “Bond” – which Alaine found funny, because he was already halfway there with the first name James. She couldn’t help thinking the way they poked fun at each other was almost sibling-like, but she supposed if they’d been working together for years they’d probably have the same tone.

The dispatcher was looking dapper in his tux though, and she could definitely imagine him playing James Bond in a movie. Hat Trick was decked out too, looking absolutely royal in his purple, black gold suit. She wondered how much it cost to get a suit made big enough to fit his hulked-out form. And speaking of costs, she was scared to know how much something like Ikret’s dress would be priced. It glittered like real diamonds – maybe they were – and the new heroine’s wings paired with the ensemble just made her look all the more effortlessly priceless.

If anyone looked directly at her Alaine offered an awkward smile, but otherwise seemed like she was trying to avoid making eye contact – hyper aware of the fact that she was not in her normal high-coverage suit. It was like putting on a dress had reverted her back to day one at SDN, making her all quiet and shy again.

LG, dressed in an absolutely gorgeous, silvery dress that made Alaine think of some kind of ancient moon goddess, directed the group’s attention to the limo pulling up. Shimmering, Lightning Girl led the way outside and practically launched herself into the limousine, her infectious enthusiasm obvious as she gushed over the luxury accommodations.

"Okay, this is the good stuff! I mean they told us we can't all show off by turning up and flying or leaping there so this was it but.....we're going in a limo to Hollywood! Ahhhh!"

Jet laughs and starts to look for a sunroof on the limo. “Maybe we can do limo sunroof karaoke on the way back. What should we duet- LG?” He tosses his friend a smile.

Alaine remained quiet, though she was in awe too. She’d never been in a limo before either. She hardly felt like it was anything she deserved.

She caught hold of Jet’s arm, mumbling a nervous, “Can I sit by you?”

Jet covers her hand with his own and smiles at her. It’s clear permission, but he doesn’t say a word.

"Like genuinely, as a kid I never imagined this would happen. I know it's a work occasion but come on, this is cool, right? Oh, we should probably get a photo in while we're here!"

Blackstar did indeed cringe a little at the suggestion of a photo, especially given she practically felt naked with her change in mask. Still, she did lean in when Lightning Girl motioned for everybody to be part of the action – that said, she still ducked her head slightly behind Asteroid’s shoulder so her whole face wouldn’t be in the picture. Jet holds up a peace sign, obscuring the features of his nose and mouth in doing so.

A second later she saw Hat Trick's phone coming out too, and that picture she knew would be going on socials so, again, she leaned back just enough to obscure half of her face behind Jet as the image was snapped.

Jet repositioned for this one as well, but was less successful, only obscuring his mouth and some of his nose. Oh hell- guess that will have to do.

Friday
17:52
Inside a Lincoln Town Car
Claremont, Los Angeles

Very Important Heroes

The team made their way to the limo, and one by one, clambered in, James holding to let Ikret in, dazzling in her diamonds, followed by Hat Trick, suave as ever. It wasn't long until champagne and bad ideas came around.

@SonnetNSunbeam

Jet laughs and starts to look for a sunroof on the limo. “Maybe we can do limo sunroof karaoke on the way back. What should we duet- LG?” He tosses his friend a smile.

"Well, Asteroid, that depends how many vodka martinis you and I drink. Who knows, maybe it'll be more than a duet!" Lightning Girl's tone was way, way more sultry than she probably made it out to be, realising Blackstar was probably looking at a frightened horror, like a cat looking almost alarmed at its owner.

"Like Blackstar might join in and sing too, I mean, if we keep drinking champagne!" She chuckled, trying to wriggle her way out of that one, leaning across and turning up the stereo in the back a little bit as if to mask that.

Smooth. You fucking moro..

Soundtrack: Marlene Shaw- California Soul

Oh, Lightning Girl would sing that if she was more drunk, she got an appreciation for the classics from her brother, who smiled, still having little to say, apart from a wave of champagne at her, Sophie realising she hadn't touched hers yet from the table in the limo. It wasn't the booze, it was definitely her trying to poke at Asteroid, knowing what she knew between her and Blackstar. Making him feel it a little, but, that was part of the fun, she reasoned. The thrill of the chase, as she took glass to hand.

So a flute of champagne in hand, and the suggestion of another photo from Hat Trick. Lightning Girl leaned forwards, grinning, letting Hat Trick get his obligatory social media shot in. And watching as he typed away on his phone, his big hands against small phone making her giggle.

@BigPapaBelial

Tyler chuckles, "Hmmm no that won't get us into trouble. There have been worse hashtags posted by more popular Heroes and SDN PR reps."

She double checked him, as her phone buzzed at her, checking the tag, the fact there was a mask there perhaps not revealing how Sophie's eyebrows went up, yet her eyes rolled back to see if the goblin inside her head was also seeing this shit, leaning up around a corner before leaning back out.

"Cheeky fucker!" She giggled with a little biting British sarcasm, poking at his side with a not insignificant jolt, her exposed leg in the shot from what Sophie had seen- not that well, that was the problem....maybe it wasn't really. She sipped down more bubbles and sighed,

The others seemed rather content. Blackstar was quiet, nervy, close to Asteroid and trying to hide. But holy hell, was she pretty. That dress was beautiful, nothing flashy, regal, but red and black, wow, it popped and brought her to life. It suited her, even if Lightning Girl wondered if based on everything she knew, Blackstar even had owned the dress herself.

Then there was James, not really with anything to say. He seemed to still be defusing himself, still coming down from the big meeting he had gone in. What did the Claremont PD want with him? Was it linked to the carnival, or something else? Red Ring? Who cared.

Going through the interstates of LA into sunset, the big skyscrapers of DTLA got closer and closer, and the A-Team were en-route to the biggest event of the year. The big lights, big city, and most of all, the absolute glitz and glamour of it all coming close.

This was quite a different vibe to Claremont. But from the glimmery diamonds of Ikret's dress, the red and black of Blackstar, the purple of Hat Trick, silver of Lightning Girl, to the suave black of Asteroid, the team seemed rather ready for going uptown.

---

Friday
18:42
The Grand Cayman Hotel,
Hollywood, Los Angeles

Stars In Their Eyes

The limousine would pull up and the beautiful, white-fronted visage of The Grand Cayman Hotel, located just off Hollywood Boulevard was hosting the annual SDN California Gala, the celebration of all things corporate hero in the state, but more importantly, the single most important event of the social calendar for SDN LA's high rollers.

Like the Catalina Wine Mixer, but with less incentive to sell helicopters, more incentive to keep the Governor sweet, local city councillors engaged, and more than all, keep SDN's profile high among stakeholders and the people who mattered. Heroes were always in demand, and it didn't take just supervillains to justify SDN's role in a metropolis's utility services. Other firms may have competed, but SDN had this patch, and they weren't relinquishing it anytime soon. The City of Angels was protected by an army of supers that kept the chaos at bay, day or night, and this was their celebration.

The Art-Deco era building had been a long standing structure here in Hollywood, and its white stone facade was covered in posters, beyond the Mediterranean - inspired palm trees and spikes of colour that broke up its vintage appeal, and it was now in full view through tinted glass.

"Here we are. Wow. I've only seen this on TV." Lightning Girl said almost as if to nobody, as James nodded, taking it all in for himself.

"Yeah, A-Listers out tonight. And us. Valerie must have a secret caring side of her I didn't think existed. Or is setting us up for something." James replied, thinking back to why they were here together at all.

"The Carnival, good performances? The star power of east LA? Come on James, don't overthink. For once. Enjoy this." She replied, getting the mood back on track, not wanting anything to let her down, even if she very much implied in sarcasm some parts of that.

Because with that comment, the door to the limo was opened, and with it, revealed the red carpet, photographer blasting already, catching silhouettes through darkened limo glass.

Lightning Girl smiled, but in particular, looked to someone inside as she shuffled across, dress gliding on leather. Blackstar. The only person in this moment she knew would be terrified. She didn't know much in this life, but she knew of all things, Blackstar was scared. There was a different vibe to her, not like Hat Trick, Ikret, maybe not even quite Asteroid or James. She looked like she felt out of place. Scared to deal with people. But Sophie knew deep down it would be good to give her that confdience.

@cosmiccowgirl

"We'll be fine, Blackstar. Promise. You look stunning by the way!"

It was easy for Lightning Girl to say, because being closest to the door, perhaps a little selfishly, strategic, of course, she put herself as that face. And yet Lightning Girl had confidence to share, heel clicking into carpet, pulling forward and elegantly pushing forwards onto two heeled feet.

As she faced down cameras, grinning, every single childhood dream was coming to life. The fame, the glory, of finally being all that she wanted to be. Sophie was so far gone, so far removed, so out of reach of this. And it almost felt like it lived up to everything she dreamed. Walking on soft red carpet, hair parted to one side, able to feed from the metaphorical electricity of it all.

And emerging into the photography, the snaps got the rest of the team arriving on the red carpet, media kept to a limited figure given the nature of this event, tight and focussed, not wide and diffuse. Having heroes on security made sure no paparazzi that didn't belong would come. It was VIP, exclusive, and more importantly, a showcase of what SDN could do, curated. And well, the guests already seemed to suggest that.

James could already pick up a few senior managers in the crowd too. Blonde Blazer, SDN Torrance's branch director, seen chatting to a punkish looking heroine who seemed extremely grumpy to have to be dressed up formally. Mr Mephisto, SDN Burbank's manager, a wiry bald looking guy who still was the biggest creep of all of the directors in his black and red tux. And what seemed like a smaller, afro-having guy who wore Aviators like he stole them, James not being able to make the name out of that guy, but being sure he was a manager in.....fuck, Downtown San Francisco? He couldn't remember, yet was last out of the car and the first to twig those, among the many, many others.

Capes were gone for suits and dresses, for the most part- though from a weird looking Andromeda-descending alien to what looked like a straight up bipedal alligator, getting them formal seemed the biggest challenge of them all walked by James as his sister continued to preen, sharing photos with Ikret wherever she could, and with other members of the team, willingly or not. Following behind his heroes, Lightning Girl posing for more cameras, James couldn't help but grin as he tried to overcome the fact he was absolutely not this crowd.

Many heroes would kill to be here, and sure, a few branches had sent from San Francisco, San Diego, Sacramento, even a few out of towners from Vegas and Salt Lake. But James? Well, he wasn't one of them. He was a tagalong. An accessory, but as he looked to Asteroid, walking alongside him, he chuckled, shaking his head.

@SonnetNSunbeam

"I suppose it's how the other half live. I think that champagne bottle cost more than my rent." James commented dryly, knowing Asteroid was made of money, at least, he had been in his past life, current circumstances being different. He let Asteroid come back to him, before moving on, the big doors wide open, and the lobby leading straight to the ballroom.

Among all the heroes, the real highlight of the show was the Hollywood Six and in even the internal posters, they seemed to be the dominant advert. SDN Hollywood's premier team, and from what the SDN Claremont team would know, probably the best team in all of LA, if not the country. Some would say it was all show, all for tourists, media, optics, but others would probably say it was the finest bit of advertising that SDN had in the land. Their best heroes, given an opportunity to kill it on high profile, sensitive jobs that didn't need violence, but a pretty bunch of faces. People who could easily double up in movies too, or easily represent SDN's various specialisms when needed. Each seemed to be an expert, dedicated to one or two of the attributes that James would have sat looking at daily.

---

The Hollywood Six

Walking into the ballroom, they'd find just those heroes, doing what they did best. Poking their head a long way above the parapet on their home turf. Past the mere accessory of a lobby at the Grand Cayman, the stage was set, draped in banners and curtains, round tables and chairs all postured around, with crowds inbetween filling every gap. The lighting was moody, a haze making everything shimmer a little under chandelier light. For a five-star hotel, this place was giving 1920s vibes that felt unchanged from when the hotel was built (in spite of plenty of modern technological updates), from the gaudy Art Deco architecture to the shine of the silver-backed chairs.

Spotting the Six wasn't too hard, based on the posters and what the team might have loosely known before. On posters, billboards, media, it was always different to reality, seeing it in person, out of costume, but she could twig each.

The easiest was a tall, well muscled, black-tie wearing, pasty looking socialite, although his look seemed to have a weird digital shimmer in his cuffs.Technocrat.

A non-cover for Lucas Aster, Fintech executive with his longer fair coloured locks, who seemed to effectively be both his high-tech, crimefighting detective and billionaire self at the same time tonight. He'd usually be out with a high tech exoskeleton, all coated up in black ceramic carbide armour and a blue-hued lynx-like mask, a thruster pack and a claimed IQ of 180. It made him the guy you called for high profile cases, investigation, civil protection and for preening around when he wasn't busy running around making money by night and single handily boosting his own ego by day. He may have had none of his gear right now, but he was still a certified genius who'd invested in a hell of a squat rack while reading Descartes, the kind of finance bro Sonar would aspire to be. It also made him a certified prick, that at least made him fit the profile of Hollywood and it's corporate heroism. He was too self interested to care about who came in, for now at least.

Lady Liberty was, as ever, attracting all the photography by an SDN branded backer, that kind you'd find in. In a stunning blue, white and red number that revealed way too much cleavage that anyone else would have gotten away with, coupled to her lightly copper hair was proof even Lightning Girl or Ikret weren't too much in this town. A heroine that was America's sweetheart, coming up from rural Colorado, and hitting the perfect mix of vigour and charisma, being crafted by SDN into probably one of the most marketable heroes in the US. A star in every sense of the word, within an inch of her life, picture perfect. And with the kind of power that maybe wasn't all too far off Phenomaman, super strength, flight, and the ability to beam energy out of her hands. Resilient as hell, but also, fast. Lightning Girl would blush at the sight, because that was one hell of a thing to see in person. If Technocrat was an asshole, she prayed that Liberty wouldn't be, because Sophie had pictures of her when she first became a hero, that Facebook-famous turning into someone who had their own merch line.

And not too far, off from her, the sound of laughter, a deep tone from a lanky, yet instantly distinguishable hero. Fastlane.

A classic speedster, maybe not as fast as Track Star, but his yellow and black costume, dreads and Jamaican chill made him an icon that brought island vibes to red-hot speed. Being able to be a first responder made him ideal to get places fast. Not much more, but, he absolutely nailed that down in a world where speedsters were relatively rare. In a dapper looking mustard yellow suit, he looked every part the suave, easygoing islander that had made it big in LA. With a gold chain on, he gave his iconic pose, an archer's pull, and grinned, laughing heartily, absolutely seeming to be the most sincere of all of the Six, even if his charisma wasn't as classic as that of Liberty, nor that of another member of the team Lightning Girl could hear, but not see yet.

Beyond Fastlane, a nearly as dapper, tan-suited Texan, looking like he was going to sell oil rather than attend a Gala was her real interest. Still with Stetson in hand, this was clearly Quickdraw.

He was still armed, openly, two revolvers at hip. But it was like props at this point. Sophie had already known about him, but James reminded himself what he'd read. Fastest gunslinger in the States, not particularly super like the others, but had a knack for solving problems, talking trouble down, and when it came to it, stopping threats with an encyclopaedic knowledge of bullets. Hence why the revolvers were inseparable to him. Lightning Girl spied a look at him, and mid conversation, he peeked at her, the two catching a glimpse across the room. His look was broken by a crowd, where Lightning Girl's eyes drifted to someone more inconspicuous.

Quietly, skulking in the corner, a dark, burgundy haired, lithe looking, almost tactical-like black dress wearing heroine, the dress more like a body glove than something too elegant, face unmasked yet....somehow not quite right. Flat heeled too.....she was tactical.

So that would be Black Rose.

Even in plain sight with distinctive red hair, she seemed to almost dissolve into her background. But that was the way she liked it, her face somehow distorted as if her nose, or her cheeks, or her lips, something, something wasn't quite aligned to the rest, yet it seemed human. Not a shapeshifter, no, of someone curating who she was. Optical camouflage, silenced pistols, grappling hooks, the kind of arrangement that the CIA would call science fiction were her normal arsenal, and while she may not have had regular powers, she had the kind of tech, and the capability that made even supers wince, a combination of intelligence and lethality. It was strange to have her in Hollywood, but, she had her reasons, so at least people believed. Was it retirement from some special forces gig? Or hiding in plain sight? Who knew. Who wanted, to know. But she flicked a butter knife back into into the buffet cart like it was a frisbee and it didn't even clink. She saw the sight of Blackstar, and her eyebrows flickered up.

Soundtrack: London Grammar- Intro

And yet among all of them, the most notable was actually on stage. It would sound like the heavens opening up. A hero that didn't seem to fit the mould, but in Hollywood, perhaps she just did.

Calliope.

A Greek demi-goddess, white toga-like dress wearing, long black haired siren. Siren in the literal sense. The ability to use her voice to shrill, captivate, charm, break glass, open people's minds through almost a mythical level of charisma, well, that did things here. Maybe not the way the other heroes could, but, with a Muse on your side, you could convince most to spill their thoughts. But more than all, it sounded like pitched perfection. As she sang, the violin behind her picked up, as if her own vocal chords seemed to strum it alive more than the violinist playing them could. She had an aura, almost a sort of pull, that would make anyone around her seem almost small. Calliope caught the sight of diamonds walking through the door, and she looked to Ikret, her voice trembling a teeny bit seeing her, realising the other goddess from antiquity had come back. But the voice continued.

The team would be getting snapped on the ballroom, in front of a SDN-branded event canvas, Lightning Girl preening in front, happy to be joined by any others that came along with her. But from afar, each of the Six had their eye. Curious as to faces they hadn't yet seen. Faces that had punched far above their weight.

But before they could do that, the A-Team were interrupted by the brute that was Valerie Halliday, towering over the group, even Hat Trick. The SDN Regional Director made a point of intercepting the group, able to almost cover the distance between anyone else that would come to talk to them. She absolutely stank of Chanel, and in a shimmering black dress, she seemed to magnify every part of her ability to stop the fuck out of anyone that didn't agree. No gloves, because with arms like that, concealed carry wasn't an option for an immortal warrior.

"You made it.....finally. Don't fuck this up. Especially you two." She stared evils at both Ikret and Lightning Girl, the latter looking at the other with a look of bewilderment, as the Viking queen seemed to sigh, looking on as the Governor shook hands with Technocrat, somewhere at a far table, James nodding, Valerie almost ignoring the puny mortal of the group. Brave he was, nothing of value he had to add right now.

"Governor wants to talk with me. Keeping all of your sorry asses, and corporate in contract.....and you didn't bring Madcap at least, James. Keeps us in with a fighting chance. That and Blackstar seemingly posting numbers even Liberty's struggling to match." She sighed almost nonchalantly, looking across, knowing the concierge had fucked up the job making that fix for her, clearly, and she would have to take matters into her own hands. Oh well. Best to do a job properly herself, she thought, James now having nothing to say, unlike his attempt earlier, Valerie finishing her point. Madcap being taken off the team and reassigned had probably given James a few years back on his life, albeit not those taken by the stress of the carnival.

"Your table is there. When you're called, come up, don't say anything stupid. Shake hands, look good. And enjoy your night. This ain't gonna be regular." And with that, Valerie stared only a little bit of daggers at the group, before moving away, leaving them all likely speechless. That voice, a husky, raspy tone sounded aged like a wine bottle, East Coast for sure, but with the hints of her Vinland heritage.

----

James chuckled, shaking his head, waiting until Valerie was out of sight, the group together by that canvas board.

"This is mental." He had no further words, chuckling and smiling, still a little in shock. He wasn't even sure where to begin. Gone was the serious, absolutely in control dispatcher. He seemed to actually be having fun. Like for a brief moment, despite every part of him telling him this was fake, bullshit, a lie, all of it, this felt a little bit special. A little bit like something he could see his sister loving the idea of. And looking across to her, she seemed to be trying her hardest to contain.

Lightning Girl in the interim was still trying to play it cool. Trying. But her eye had caught a nearby drinks trolley, halfway between where they were and their table. Not that it was likely they would get the table with what was going on. There were so many crowds standing, talking amongst each other, not sitting down, it almost felt redundant to get to where they'd be right now. Not without being accosted, taking in the scene.

"Ikret, what did you do to piss Valerie off? Please tell me this isn't a long running thing." She asked, as James tsk'd.

"Everyone has, if you spend enough time in the hero game in LA. Or happen to exist in any point in the last thousand years between here and Newfoundland. I think she's quite chill now, compared to the rumours I heard." James merely remarked, as Sophie giggled, giving into that part of her that just wanted to stir shit. She was polite, nice, friendly, but every now and then, it hit, and Valerie was enough distance away that she wouldn't be getting Blood Eagled if she made the comment.

"Well, she has thighs like she ends bloodlines. She probably still does." LG blurted naughtily, as James sighed, looking up at her, as Lightning Girl walked on over to Blackstar, something about tonight just making Lightning Girl all sorts of odd. It was a party, after all.

"Seen Lady Liberty over there? I thought I grew up looking up to her. But she's actually a lot shorter than I thought in person. So cool though. I'm not worthy, Blackstar!" Lightning Girl giggled, knowing she had been almost shielding Blackstar from it all, trying to lean casually against the upstanding table, looking over.

"Then over there, that's Black Rose. I think you two have a lot in common. Quiet. Highly effective. Red haired. And you both have black costumes. But she can turn invisible, soo......when we getting that?" Sophie teased Blackstar about that strand of red she'd seen poking out of the back of that hair. And looking across, seeing....her.

"And Tsunami. I almost fucking forgot." She wasn't in the Six, but Tsunami had been relocated to DTLA. Family connections. Or some other bullshit. But she was here? And in that scaly blue dress of hers. Bitch. Ikret may have wanted to stay out of pictures with Lightning Girl, but Sophie was staying the absolute fuck away from her. Not after last time.

She tried to hide, but it had brought itself out, Lightning Girl not wanting to open wounds up, leaving Blackstar to it after chatting. She walked across to Asteroid, seeing his suit, realising the two astral heroes had unintentionally matched.

"You're a match. But, so are....yeah. Damn. We need to be more creative next time. I hope there's a next time. I mean...." She cut herself off looking at Ikret, who James pointed towards the table, rounding up the others.

"Come on then, we heading over?" He asked, knowing it was time to get to their table, after they'd all enjoyed the entrance, taking it in, and Lightning Girl fixed her gloves, a smile back, shrugging.

---

---

Friday
6:45pm
SDN California Gala

(( ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ: @FourtyTwo/Lightning Girl, [@Ezekial]/Ikret | ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ: @BigPapaBelial/Hat Trick, @FourtyTwo/James + various, @SonnetNSunbeam/Asteroid ))

Oooohhh this was not good. She was so stressed out and they weren't even at the gala yet.

Asteroid said something about karaoke to LG and that briefly distracted Blackstar, making her think of that night a few weeks ago now at the hero bar where he and Madcap had sung some karaoke together. Jet's dramatic performance had been cute. And his voice hadn't been half-bad, either. If he sang again she wouldn't mind at all--

"Well, Asteroid, that depends how many vodka martinis you and I drink. Who knows, maybe it'll be more than a duet!"

Blackstar's head snapped slightly to the side, pale eyes wide as she stared at Lightning Girl for a second before remembering her eyes were actually visible at the moment and swiftly looking away again. That had sounded suggestive. But Sophie didn't mean that, surely? It almost seemed like she was hopped up on excitement without even having any of the champagne yet.

Caaaaaalllmmmm down, Alaine chided herself mentally, one leg bouncing anxiously where it was crossed over the other. She took a deep inhale.

"Like Blackstar might join in and sing too, I mean, if we keep drinking champagne!"

"Ahaha!" Blackstar registered her name and laughed automatically, though she was immediately horrified by the robotic sound of her own voice. Quickly clearing her throat, her smile was a little more tense than she'd like as she added, "Ah, hah, uh -- I don't drink, so, uh, it'll be a hard sell."

Weak, but it would do. At least it was a coherent sentence.

Looking at the rest of the group, she wished she was an empath. If she could just siphon off some of the cheerful excitement of Lightning Girl and Hat Trick, or even the cool nonchalance of Ikret, she'd be good to go. But maybe that was the right track to be on -- maybe she could just trick herself into being chill.

Like Ikret. Yeah. ...Well. Ikret actually didn't seem "chill", exactly, it was more like effortless elegance. Even with two giant wings crammed into the limo she somehow looked blasé -- in the sophisticated sense -- like being encrusted in diamonds was just a regular Friday night for her.

Alaine tried to pretend that was her. That she'd done this a dozen times before, that she totally wore very nice dresses all the time and hobnobbed with the rich and powerful and famous all the time... and she definitely didn't want to crawl out of her own skin... and they all definitely wouldn't immediately see through her act and nail her to the wall...

Lightning Girl laughed and Blackstar blinked, letting out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. Her hands were fidgeting relentlessly in her lap, and she was mentally thanking Asteroid for letting her borrow that gold bracelet -- turning it around and around her wrist was giving her some small outlet for her nervous energy. She was trying really hard not to just latch on to his gravity again, even though it'd be so easy and so nice with him sitting right next to her... but no, she was trying to keep herself from developing a dependency. He wasn't always going to be around. He wouldn't want to be. So what was she supposed to do, fall apart?

No. No, she was a tough, strong, independent woman, and she always had been, and she always would be, and she didn't need anybody or anything ever.

...Although a hug would've been very appreciated right about then.

It seemed like she blinked and the next thing she knew, the limo was pulling up to the gala. Alaine pretended she was adjusting her necklace but in actuality she was casually checking her heartrate.

Ah. Racing like a rabbit about to be mauled to death by a pack of wolves. Great, yeah, that was great.

She could already see the flashes of cameras up ahead through the windows and felt her stomach drop. Shoooooot she hadn't thought about cameras...

The stars' incessant screaming in the back of her head was threatening to give her a headache before she'd even gotten out of the limo, and she could feel her breathing trying to keep pace with her rapid heartbeat.

You're going to make yourself hyperventilate. God, if only her body would listen to her head. No matter how many times she told herself she was fine, her nervous system refused to get the memo... that had always been something she'd struggled with, but it had gotten ten times worse when that stupid shooting star whacked her in the head.

Speaking of stars, they were burning so bright at the edges of her vision she was starting to get scared she was going to have a reaction she couldn't control. Blackstar sank back in her seat a little, again hiding slightly behind Asteroid as she tried to regulate her breathing and force down the increasingly-anxious cosmic energy.

Lightning Girl and James were talking but their voices were reaching her ears in a muted way, like she was underwater.

"Here we are. Wow. I've only seen this on TV."

"Yeah, A-Listers out tonight. And us. Valerie must have a secret caring side of her I didn't think existed. Or is setting us up for something."

"The Carnival, good performances? The star power of east LA? Come on James, don't overthink. For once. Enjoy this."

Alaine nodded slightly to herself, even though Lightning Girl had been talking to the dispatcher and not her. Don't overthink. Enjoy this.

Yeah, but since when had she ever enjoyed something like this? Uhh oh, right, never. She hated big fancy places. She hated big crowds. She hated dressing up and feeling like a fraud.

The stress was being tempted to turn into rage. The stars were coaxing it out and she could feel it, like something physical sticking to her ribs and trying to work its way up her throat. She wasn't sure if the flashing in her eyes was the cameras outside the tinted windows or the flickering stars forever in her vision. Maybe both. She was disconcerted by the fact that she couldn't tell the difference.

That made it worse. Her body started reacting before she could stop it, and she knew the second her eyes started smoking light. Like floating when she was asleep, it was a physical response to the cosmic energy that she hadn't figured out how to control, and Blackstar immediately shut her eyes. She had no idea what it looked like from the outside, whether the light was still glowing through her eyelids or drifting up past her lashes.

Okay. Okay, okay, she thought, taking yet another impossibly deep inhale that had her bruised ribs screaming in protest. This is okay. At least it hides your eyes. Right?

The limo doors opened and Alaine's eyes snapped open, but she couldn't see anything properly. Between the stars and the photographers, her vision was a mess of lights. She stifled a groan, rubbing a hand over her eyes that were still smoking cold light, irises and pupils completely hidden by the glow. If nothing else, it'd make focusing on her face a nightmare for cameras.

Blackstar was the last one out of the limo, trying not to glower but not wanting to smile, either.

@FourtyTwo

"We'll be fine, Blackstar. Promise. You look stunning by the way!"

Eyes leaking starlight, Blackstar glanced over as Sophie offered a word of encouragement and a compliment. "Thank you," she mumbled, but she wouldn't have been surprised if the noise around them drowned it out. That said, it didn't go unnoticed how LG put herself out in front of the cameras; there weren't that many photographers around, but even one was too many as far as Alaine was concerned. She felt relieved to see the white-haired heroine taking the brunt of the flashes, and she knew her own glowing eyeballs would help hide her identity, but she lifted a hand to shield her face anyway. She hadn't been paying attention if SDN corporate had sent down word about smiling for cameras, and frankly, she didn't care.

Blackstar certainly didn't linger on the carpet, making a beeline for the indoors and having to work extra hard to keep her feet on the ground. She would've killed for a little of Asteroid's gravity to stick herself down -- she was having enough trouble regulating her breathing and trying to get her eyes to stop bleeding luminescence, let alone making sure she didn't go drifting off like a wayward comet.

It didn't matter how sophisticated the noise was in the hotel -- like the cameras, just a few voices was too many for Alaine's crowded head. The singing from the actual goddess on the stage was beautiful, but the stars' screeching was too obtrusive to let her properly appreciate it. Once she was in she didn't scan the room like she might have had she been a little less jittery, instead just keeping a hand up over her glowing eyes like she was embarrassed of them, falling back in the group in an attempt to hide behind any one of them. Which was easy enough, since she was apparently the shortest one there. In fact, ducking between Lightning Girl and Hat Trick pretty much completely hid her from view.

Occasionally glancing out from under her fingers -- her hands still bearing somewhat bruised up, scabbed-over knuckles -- she did spot a few figures she recognized. Not from personal acquaintance, but because... well, everybody recognized those heroes. Her gaze lingered longest on Lady Liberty and Quickdraw; the former because younger Alaine had always liked the iconic American-ness of her and the closeness in their ages, and the latter because something about the cowboy hat and revolvers felt comfortably familiar. Probably because she'd spent so many nights watching the old western channel with her dad.

Don't think about Dad, she pleaded mentally as soon as her mind started conjuring up images of her old family living room, with the old worn armchair her dad always sat in and the thrifted pillows her mom had re-covered and the infomercials playing on the TV between episodes of The Rifleman and Clint Eastwood movies.

Ah, great, now she was homesick again.

Blackstar, still struggling to manage her breathing and avoiding the photo op, hurriedly scoped out the edges of the room for a good place to go be a wallflower. But before she could act on her plans the team had been approached by Valerie, looking intimidating as all get out, as was to be expected. Alaine dropped her hand from her face, if only because she didn't want to get called out for it.

"You made it.....finally. Don't fuck this up. Especially you two."

Who, Lightning Girl? Ikret? That baffled Alaine. Those two, in her opinion, looked the most like they were supposed to be there. They were literally sparkling. Also Hat Trick, who seemed charismatic and down to earth enough to fit in just about anywhere.

"Governor wants to talk with me. Keeping all of your sorry asses, and corporate in contract.....and you didn't bring Madcap at least, James. Keeps us in with a fighting chance. That and Blackstar seemingly posting numbers even Liberty's struggling to match."

Being specifically named made her go very still for a second, blanching as if Valerie had just put a hit on her.

"Your table is there. When you're called, come up, don't say anything stupid. Shake hands, look good. And enjoy your night. This ain't gonna be regular."

When you're called? Come up?! Blackstar felt properly sick but she swallowed the anxiety-bidden nausea, glancing at James when the dispatcher eventually spoke up. Mental. Yeah. At least he seemed like he was enjoying himself, judging by the smile. That was good. He and Sophie started bantering again in that sibling-y way they did, and Blackstar felt herself stuck in place, trying to decide if she could actually get to their table or if it'd be pointless since nobody else seemed to be sitting.

Where was Asteroid... she turned just slightly, catching sight of him nearby and focusing briefly on the red-faced watch on his wrist. Watching the tiny gold hands tick, trying to imagine the steady sound of it in her head and pretending that was her heartbeat. Slower than it currently was.

Focusing a great deal of her mental energy to the task of imagining her heart as a red-faced watch with gold hands, the shine of Blackstar's blazing eyes started to dim -- she might've just been getting a hold of it when Lightning Girl's voice startled her back to a full glow.

@FourtyTwo

"Seen Lady Liberty over there? I thought I grew up looking up to her. But she's actually a lot shorter than I thought in person. So cool though. I'm not worthy, Blackstar!"

Alaine swallowed thickly and quickly forced a smile. There was a joke to be made about height, probably, but it wasn't coming to her.

"Then over there, that's Black Rose. I think you two have a lot in common. Quiet. Highly effective. Red haired. And you both have black costumes. But she can turn invisible, soo......when we getting that?"

The red hair bit immediately had Alaine's hands jumping up to the back of her head, hastily trying to hide any inkling of red peeking out from under the rest of her mousy hair and the low bun she'd attempted. "Ha... yeah... I'd kill to turn invisible..." It might've been an awkward-sounding response, but she meant that with all her heart right about then. If she could turn invisible she wouldn't be hanging around any longer than she had to, just long enough to establish she had been there.

"And Tsunami. I almost fucking forgot."

"Oh?" Alaine glanced over in the direction LG had looked, still trying to adjust her hair. She spotted the blue-themed heroine in question, silent for a moment before saying simply, "Well. Let me know if she starts winding up again." She would soooo much rather be in a fight. So much. Honestly, she would be happier back at the clownfest. Social interaction was so much easier when the interaction was a fistfight. Which was awful to think, and she really shouldn't be thinking it, but she was, and now she was upset at herself again, and--

"You look really nice," she said to Lightning Girl, trying to casually thank her for taking the spotlight with the cameras. "Those photos are going to look amazing. The lights on that dress make it look--" Ah, actually, she could see the light from her eyes reflecting off the silvery material. She'd hoped that had stopped already. Alaine pressed on. "--look like starlight."

She paired that with a weak smile. "Ha. I oughta know."

Genuinely. The stars trying to fill up her peripheral vision could've blended right into Lightning Girl's dress. "You and Ikret both. Y'all--" Her voice cracked a little and she quickly cleared her throat. "Uh, you both look amazing."

Speaking of... Ikret might actually be the perfect person to go linger behind. For one, those big, majestic wings were practically a wall, no one would see her. For two, who would look at Blackstar when there was a diamond-studded, model-bodied angel in front of her? Yes, perfect.

...Was that rude? To use Ikret as a distraction? ...Maybe? Alaine didn't really think she'd mind, if she even noticed. It was kind of a roundabout compliment.

Her eyes drifted to the side, following Lightning Girl's departure and the man she approached, dressed in his dashing black and red and gold. Alaine's gaze lingered for a second unintentionally. She'd thought Asteroid was handsome ages ago, and she'd thought he looked amazing in his suit in the locker room, but seeing him from a bit of distance in a setting like the gala... wow. He looked so...

...Far away.

Alaine swallowed the lump that had suddenly risen in her throat, deciding not to think about that strange, tugging sensation in her chest. Instead she turned to set her sights on Ikret. Time to become as invisible as she possibly could...

With the practiced movements of someone who was used to skirting around people and avoiding attention, Blackstar sidled her way towards the winged goddess reincarnate. Intending to just casually stand in the shadow of her wings, she was almost there when she thought she heard Asteroid laugh. Maybe it wasn't him at all, maybe the stars were evolving and now mimicking familiar voices -- or maybe it was just some other random guy who sounded like Jet. In any case, Alaine's course was derailed embarrassingly quickly as she turned to look, catching a glimpse of LG and Asteroid chatting; looking back mid-step, she realized a server with a tray of drinks was walking right past her.

They saw each other right about the same time and she could see the split-second panic on his face. Obviously he couldn't really yank back with that tray in his hands, but he did lurch slightly as if instinct almost made him do it. Alaine caught herself, quite nearly colliding with him -- she, likewise moving on instinct, threw out a hand that hit a glass and almost tipped it over, only she managed to catch it instead as she turned sharply to avoid hitting the rest of the tray.

Whirling to a halt, drink in hand, she and the server shared a somewhat bewildered look before the man sucked in a breath and continued on his way towards the tables, leaving her to turn and realize she was actually right in front of Ikret.

@Ezekiel

Looking with wide, glowing eyes between the drink in her hand and the winged woman, Blackstar realized just how close she'd come to knocking a whole tray of drinks right into that million-dollar-looking dress.

The thought was almost enough to make her nauseas again. She was far from the relaxed, casually-saluting woman who'd wished Ikret good luck on her first day earlier that afternoon.

"Yikes, sorry, that was close." Alaine cleared her throat, paused, then extended the drink in Ikret's direction with a sheepish smile. "Uh -- do you want this? I'm assuming it's champagne -- I don't drink. If not that's fine! I can just... set it... somewhere."

Somewhere behind her she heard James and glanced back to see him pointing at them and beginning to direct everyone to the table. She wasn't sure if she'd feel better sitting down or not, because technically that was being stuck in one particular place. Standing up and walking around was a bit more stressful but at least there was the feeling of being able to run -- or fly, in her case -- if she really needed to.

And she might need to, the way things were going. She could still feel her heart pounding painfully fast in her ribs, and she knew her stupid eyes were still glowing, which was starting to get embarrassing because somebody was going to figure out sooner or later that it wasn't a voluntary thing she was doing for the sake of giving herself a little more anonymity. It was probably annoying, too. Was it hard to look at? She'd actually never really looked at herself when her eyes were smoking light like that before, just caught glimpses. Mostly because it had only ever happened in very high-stress or high-power situations, like a fight.

Her mind was going a hundred miles a minute and she really wished someone would just give her a shake and tell her to cut it out, because obviously mentally scolding herself wasn't working.

Blackstar cleared her throat lightly again, mouth feeling so dry that she was almost considering having a swig of one of those drinks anyway. "Your dress is stunning, by the way," she said to Ikret, starting to turn to head for the table but somewhat obviously waiting for the winged woman -- more out of a desire not to walk on her own than genuine politeness, if she was being honest. "I've never seen one like that. Those, uh -- are those real diamonds?"