A few weeks after the bank heist. A note came in the mail, it had the AVIA’s seal of approval. It was an invitation to take part in a conference in midtown, anyone who was a licensed hero from all over the nation was expected to be there. And in the envelope there was also a lollipop, which I believed was agent Smith’s way of personally addressing me.
Why couldn’t that bitch just sign her name like a normal person I did not know.
I almost crumpled up the wasteful piece of paper and chucked it into the trash can but then I thought about some more. The house was getting dusty and mom was gone. This was the perfect day to go out on patrol, talk to any number of people outside. Maybe just free run for the hell of it.
It was quiet.
Quiet leaves you with an empty feeling. Nothing to bother you and also nothing to do. Like some kind of invisible cage, it's weird.
But quiet wasn’t a part of the Doe household, not without that bullshit clock at least.
I pulled the wrapper from the lollipop and stuck it into my mouth.
The Apostates were walking on my lawn. A nice clotting lawn. And the city wasn’t going to save itself. New Geweld needed Heroes.
So I made up my mind. My costume was staying inside my closet and the tanktop and short shorts I wore weren’t going anywhere. I went to the living room and sat on my mothers spot, took out my guitar and amp, turned on the TV to whatever channel and started to mess around. I plucked the coils and tuned it after every headache. Relaxing sucked.
Some kind of cowboy show or movie was on. Westerns were all the rage with kids those days.
The main character was some lady, she wore a ridiculous frilled jacket, it was lime green, and her hat was made of leather. She walked through this absolutely dry, desolate town, you could feel the blistering heat just by looking at it. The people looked terrible, like they were pulled straight from the ground, but anywhere she went they smiled. They smiled and laughed despite all that came out where raspy hisses. The kids ran up to her wearing rags with their hair all knotted and with a feral demeanor. She did tricks, twirling her pistols, juggling them, shooting at clay jugs while blindfolded. Every once in a while she actually fought somebody, a bandit or a native would waltz into town and threaten people. Always looking for water or food, pointing their weapons at people who could barely stand up straight. The lady would come and sort them out quickly, she was a really good shot too. The bad guys run away never to be seen again, and the town cheers. The lady is smiling, like she's the savior.
TICK-TOCK
Do you ever shut up?!
And at the end she stood by the saloon, the only building in town with lights on, leaning against a wall with a bottle of something in her hand. The town was still dry and the people looked terrible.
TICK-TOCK
The lady had an unreasonable expression on her face, like she woke up and had to come to terms with what she was staring at, took a swig from her drink and then the credits rolled. What a weird-ass show.
TICK-TOCK
Finally, a tune came to mind and I began playing ‘The Wind Cries Mary’, for the silly little cowgirl on the screen.
There I was, in the County Courthouse.
Everyone was seated on the large curved jury stands and in the gallery. AVIA agents stood in front of the imposing bench that the judge would usually sit in, and above it was the grand ole’ flag. Thirteen red and white stripes, and a blue box in the corner with a snake cut up into nine pieces. There was a dull bronze plaque underneath that had the phrase ‘Join or Die’ engraved on it.
And a great golden sword, stabbed into the cracked floor, stuck in the middle of everything. It once belonged to Godspeed, yet it did not glow or sparkle, it wasn’t polished and pieces of the blade were chipped away. A long thin hair of bright red cloth was tied to the handle. Many Heroes had tried to pull it out for a great and powerful reward, but failed to do so. Some people believed Godspeed left it there as a reminder to all of us about our responsibilities as Superheroes.
Thinking about it only made me more upset. He was important to a lot of people and it was a shame he disappeared when he did. Or perhaps it was for the best?
Fortunately it was so loud that I was compelled out of my thoughts.
Heroes from all over the city and its outskirts from other states had made their way to New Geweld for this meeting. Some big, some small. Most didn’t have their own action figures or HQs or were barely into their twenties. So I was among peers, hungry and ambitious upstarts ready to make their mark in history.
I wore my rabbit costume as I thought it was appropriate, but left the mask resting on the desk in front of me. I had no reason to hide my identity and many others did the same as well. I was punctual and arrived exactly when it said the meeting was to begin and to my surprise, it was damn near packed by then hot and stuffy air smacked me in the face as soon as I entered. I found my seat on the jury stands, the people next to me wouldn’t stop talking. I didn’t get into any conversations because they didn’t interest me, I was here because the Apostates needed to be stopped, so that meant talking business, not playing socialite.
But I found some way to entertain myself.
One Hero either wore an ape costume or he was actually an ape, must have been taller then the wolfman I fought, smelled almost as bad too, had tried to sit down on one chair but he almost crushed three people in the process. I couldn’t suppress the grin on my face!
One of the almost victims of the ape’s carelessness, some kind of lizard quasi, didn’t take offense but the other guy who looked like a horned devil with bat wings got pressed and gestured his hands towards the apemans face like he was trying to crush his massive hairy head from a distance.
They both just stood there.
Devilman’s gestures didn’t seem to be doing anything.
A disappointed frown casted down on the devilmans face and the apeman remained… oblivious to what was happening. His face looked quite bestial, who knew what they where thinking.
Until a… bug… it sounded and looked like one… flew up to the giant and told him that the devilman called him a “weakling”.
Next thing I knew, the big fella picked him up with one hand and threw the little devil across the room. I was sure someone would catch him, any number of Superheroes could. But that did not happen. He instead crashed through one of the many large windows that lined the courtroom. A loud cheer rang out at the sound of shattering glass.
Was it bad I cheered with them?
Probably.
Then all of the sudden, I felt someone bump into me from behind. I turned to see some girl wearing a strange bird mask, fur collar and a sleeveless yellow vest trying to pass by me.
I told her, annoyance sizzling out of my breath “You know you can say excuse me?”
Her shoulders got tense and her heart was pounding really fast. She gave a very pressured “sorry” followed by a lot of nonsense that I didn’t care for. Just say sorry and move on, don't tell me your life story. Then she stopped, gasped and took off her mask. She had lush black hair, olive skin, a nose that was as prominent as an eagle's beak and beautiful avian eyes.
She said, in an excited tone, “DD?!”
Something about her was familiar.
Until I smelled her.
Ahyoka.
Immediately I wrapped her around my arms, locking her into a warm embrace. She squealed as she returned the love back, partially because I was squeezing a bit too hard. I should have known, although her costume looked different compared to the one she had back in school.
She asked with utmost sincerity and interest how I was still alive. To which I asked if she really thought that low of her old tutor and also why she didn’t just fly over.
“You weren’t my tutor, you were just a concerned roommate!” she said.
“Oh yeah? And what makes you say that?”
“You didn’t charge me a thing.”
I squinted my eyes at her, puckered my lips and put on my best street thug voice, “Delayed billing bitch. Hand it over!”
Soon enough our laughter joined the wild ruckus around us.
We caught up on everything since graduation. I asked about her tribe, she asked about the Heights. Ahyoka, or Thunderbird as was her Hero name, was based on a town further out west and answered agent Smith’s call to arms. Ahyoka figured it was a good idea to make it big in the city, the government paid her less because she was a tribal and worked in a rural area.
We also talked about stupid shit, hair twirling nonsense. Even though we both went to the most prestigious Superhero academy in the Americas didn’t mean we had the concept of responsibility down to a formula. I was impulsive and she mimicked my every action back then.
In the midst of our talk, Ahyoska said, “Hey D, you’re a nerd. Tell me who those fellas are.”
She pointed to the other jury bench across from us. The Heroes sitting there looked different from the rest of us, an aura of confidence radiated from their laid back postures. Costumes were of higher quality, fancier equipment, their skin looked smooth and without blemishes or scars. They had all their white pearly teeth. Yet they laughed just like the rest of us at the commotion and arguments. They were the hotshots, old money folks, or particularly wealthy people our age, generally they came from long lines of superpowered quasi families. Sure, they looked cool, and if I was a kid I’d have liked to have some of their merch. No doubt those fellas had the resources to take on bastards like the wolfman and RatKing. But something I did notice was how uninterested they seemed. Their laughter sounded… bored. I guess I could relate, I’d rather be out on the streets but wouldn’t they want the clout? To put some extra notches on their belts in order to prove they have what it takes and not appear as coddled rich kids? Or were they forced to be there?
One of the bored Heroes was the infamous Noble IX.
Wearing a knightly helmet and white tabard with a red cross over his chest, . His arms and legs had bullets lined across his armor and gun holsters on his hips, boots, underarms, and probably in his royal undies. Some kind of rifle-ax was leaning against the wood behind him. He sat there with his shiny spurred boots kicked up on the wooden desk, arm slung over the back of his chair as his head kept turning in circles. In his other arm was a very large and compensating revolver that he cocked and uncocked. Out of all the commotion in the room that was the most irritating!
Noble IX was a legacy Hero, the ninth one to bear the name. The Noble family was quite old, older than this city probably. They are from the Belt State down south where it's all hot and wet. As well as being one of the few families part of the aristocratic class here in the states.
They were Heroes by title only from what I read, not having to go to school at all to get their degree. They had a habit of shooting first and asking questions later, especially when it came to nonwhite people or certain quasi. Hell they didn’t even like their “own”. They had huge forts across the land, hoarding food that their peasants harvested. And if people got brave… well that's when the shooting started.
What was this guy doing here? Trying to redeem the family name? Regardless, if I caught him doing anything bad in my city I’d crush him like a soder can.
I told Ahyoka all of this, and her face remained unchanged. Until she slowly put two and two together and said she didn’t mess with him while furrowing her brow.
But unlike the rest of the Heroes sitting on the jury box there was one wearing something quite… generic, but in the best way possible.
He wore a blue cape with a popped collar, a silky red one-piece, matched with blinding white gloves and shoes, and a black belt with a silver buckle of the initials: SB. His blonde hair had a tiny curl on the front of his forehead and a blue domino mask over his steely blue eyes.
Sir Blue.
I think I still had a poster of him in my room. And since I got to see him in person he smelt just as good as he looked. Wasn’t a beef cake by any means but he was broad with the body of an athlete and a stoic visage. You could easily imagine yourself being carried in his strong arms as he whisked you away from danger. He wasn’t talkative and when he did it was to the point. Lets just say he was laser focused on what mattered: protecting people.
He was a Legacy Hero that actually had a history to be proud of. His family, The Blues, immigrated here, banished from their homeland for being Quasi, and they became the most humanitarian Hero Agency of all time.
“You falling for the boy scout, D?” Ahyoka smirked.
I blushed furiously and gently slapped her arm. I didn’t fall. Falling is for the weak!
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