You walk alongside Franchesca, the classmate who showed up at your front door all of a sudden. Today was supposed to be focused on training, something you realize you have been sorely neglecting. Being a hero isn’t all about having powers, you’ve come to understand. Lobo was simply able to outlast you, and a you’ve caught a few shots from thugs without a lick of training. That doesn’t bode well for you if you intend to keep up the costume antics.

When the smiley goth chick stopped you at the door, you agreed to at least hear what she has to say, the voice in the back of your head nagging about training be damned.

Franchesca strolls beside you, the two of you wandering down the road with no particular destination in mind.She’s wearing a loose sleeveless black dress that kind of reminds you of a mumu, save for the fact that it cuts off just below the knees, and combat boots. Her jet black hair has been let down, dark curls twisting at the end of otherwise straight locks.

It’s a cool, late September morning, and the modest patches of bushes that dot the side road in pre-plotted dirt squares in an attempt to bring some semblance of beauty to the neighborhood have shifted from greens to shades of orange, yellow and red.

You wonder if she’s cold.

“Aren’t you cold?” you ask, breaking a strange silence that had befallen the two of you.

“Nope,” she chirps cheerily. “Why, are you cold? We could head back if you want. We don’t need to be walking if you’re feeling a little nippy. ‘Sides, what I wanted to ask you about doesn’t require nature’s gaze.”

You shake your head, partly because you aren’t actually cold, and partly because complaining about being chilly in a jacket and jeans while a girl half your size in a loose dress isn’t is a little…

“I’m good. You’re just not wearing a lot,” you mention, then continue before she can interrupt. “What did you want to ask me about? Also, how do you know where I live?”

Franchesca bobs her head back and forth in thought. You remember she’s psychic, or at least claims to be, and feel a bit of worry building in your gut. If she really is psychic, she could already know your secret identity. And even if she isn’t that particular KIND of psychic, she could read your mind and find out you have something to hide.

Quick, think of something else! Pink elephants!

“We’ll get to that first one in a second. I asked Cisco to tell me where you lived. He forked over the info after just a few short minutes of interrogation,” she boasts.

>A. Tell her to get to the chase. Your day is already planned out, and you need to know what she needs help with if you’re going to accept or deny.

>B. Point out if she’s psychic, she could have just used her power to figure out where you lived. J’accuse!

>C. You really, really need to get some training done. Ditch her.

>D. ???

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I'm a little late. Sue me.

>>1531679
>B. Point out if she’s psychic, she could have just used her power to figure out where you lived. J’accuse!

>>1531679
>>A. Tell her to get to the chase. Your day is already planned out, and you need to know what she needs help with if you’re going to accept or deny.

>A. Tell her to get to the chase. Your day is already planned out, and you need to know what she needs help with if you’re going to accept or deny.

We need to get training!

>>1531679
>A. Tell her to get to the chase. Your day is already planned out, and you need to know what she needs help with if you’re going to accept or deny.

>>1531679
>B. Point out if she’s psychic, she could have just used her power to figure out where you lived. J’accuse!

>>1531679
>A. Tell her to get to the chase. Your day is already planned out, and you need to know what she needs help with if you’re going to accept or deny.

>>1531708
>>1531722
>>1531739

You take a breath, slipping your hands into your jacket pockets. You’re getting a little impatient. Still, smiles all around, since she’s proving to be pleasant company.

“Yeah, I don’t remember giving Cisco my address, but we talk a lot during school lunch, so it might have come up,” you admit. “Anyway, what’d you need? I kind of have my day planned out, so if it isn’t anything important…” you say, casually letting the sentence hang.

Franchesca rolls her eyes at you, then lets out a tiny huff of a sigh.

“Fine! Fine. If you’re going to be all rushy about it,” she whines, raking her fingers through her inky black hair. “I need a chaperone. A friend of mine was stupid enough to refer my services to someone who doesn’t go to our school. I usually keep the fortune telling localized, so I don’t have to meet up with any creeps.

“So… since you helped me before, with the big angry chick, I thought you might be interested in helping again. I’ll split the money from the fortune. It won’t be a lot, but then again I’m very generous with my prices, so you can’t expect too much.

You briefly recall she charged a kid 300 dollars to tell him his parents weren’t ever getting back together, and that he’d get fucked up.

Cisco told you she was nice. You wonder if that guy is ever really reliable, and realize he hasn’t proven to be. Grains of salt fill your future.

>A.Ask for more information, but be open to the idea.

>B. No. You have shit to do.

>C. ???

>>1531780
>i help you but only if youre open with me

>B. No. You have shit to do.

I kinda want to focus on getting better as a cape, before going after money etc.

>>1531780
>A.Ask for more information, but be open to the idea.

>C. ???
Guess you owe me a favor.

Better invest them favors than monetary. We arent in need of cash anyways

>>1531780
Seconding
>>1531788

>>1531780
>>B. No. You have shit to do.

>>1531780
>>A.Ask for more information, but be open to the idea.
>>C. ???
>Guess you owe me a favor.
>Better invest them favors than monetary. We aren't in need of cash anyways

>>1531780
>???
>How about we bring Sam along?
>She can have my cut, plus as far as intimidating figures go...
Motion to ourself
>You can tell her it was your idea if you want

>>1531788
>>1531795
>>1531802

“I’ll need to know a little more about what this gig might entail before I commit to anything,” you inform the cheery goth.

“That’s fine! I’m just going to visit the client at their home in a few hours, and I want you to come along as back up. Just in case. While I DO know a few guys bigger than you, I have a feeling you’re brave enough to not just bail if things turn sour. Can’t say the same about them. It’ll be cake, I promise,” the girl explains.

“Once the fortune is over and done with, I’ll split the cash with ya. Obviously you’ll get a smaller take, but that’s not important right no--”

You cut her off, growing impatient.

“Alright, alright, I get it. Tell you what, I’m not super interested in the money, but if you agree to owing me a favor I’d be more inclined to accept.”

The two of you finally make it to the end of your neighborhood, the road ending at a busy two-way. Franchesca watches the cars fly by for a moment.

“Sounds… fine!” she agrees, after a moment of faux deliberation. She’s obviously pleased about not having to fork over any dough.

>A. Alrighty then. Agree and keep her company until it’s time for the meet up.

>B. Let her know you’re backing out.

>C. Let her know you’d rather not do this, and insist she not do it either.

>D. ???

>>1531850
>A. Alrighty then. Agree and keep her company until it’s time for the meet up.

She seems to focus on cash without knowing greater consequences. I dont know bout you guys but we can manipulate that later

>B. Let her know you’re backing out.

>>1531850
>A keep her company
try to find more about her ability

>>1531850
>A. Alrighty then. Agree and keep her company until it’s time for the meet up.

>>1531850
>>A. Alrighty then. Agree and keep her company until it’s time for the meet up.

>>1531850
>>1531850
>B

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>>1531850
>>A. Alrighty then. Agree and keep her company until it’s time for the meet up.
>She seems to focus on cash without knowing greater consequences. I don't know bout you guys but we can manipulate that
Good point.

>>1531853
>>1531896
that dosent sound very heroic at all

>>1531853
>>1531858
>>1531860
>>1531862

You agree to acting at her body guard, just this once. Franchesca seems elated, overly so, wrapping her arms around your side in a huge. Feeling a little strange about the situation, you just kind of pat her on the back and wait for her to let go. She does, eventually. The two of you make your way to the nearest bench-- then find your way to the second nearest bench, as the first one is covered in bird shit.

The goth smooths out her dress and takes a seat, and you plop down beside her. You check your phone, and Franchesca is sure to remind you that the meeting is in a few hours, so there’s time to chat. She even suggests breakfast, but you already ate. She tells you she ate already as well, making the entire suggestion pointless.

There’s a short silence, the two of you unsure of what to say. You pipe up first.

“So, about this whole psychic thing. Can you really see the future? I’m not doubting you or anything,” except you totally are, “It’s just I have a hard time understanding this. How’s it work?” you ask her, relaxing back against the bench.

“Of course I’m psychic!” Franchesca retorts, huffing and crossing her arms as if you just insinuated she’s a lying, scheming thief, which you may have indirectly done. After calming down, the girl shakes her head.

“It’s hard to explain…” She starts. “People ask me things, and I can see what they want me to look into. I can’t, like, just see into the future all willy nilly,” the girl explains, crossing a leg over the other and letting her booted foot bounce up and down.

“So it’s conditional,” you mutter, scratching your head.

>A. Chat the time away, and accompany her to the meet up.

>B. Ask her something specific during the time between now and the meet up.

>C. Pop an earbud in and divide your attention between Franchesca and the police scanner app.

>>1531907
Sure it wasnt but better to manipulate the manipulator than getting manipulated.

Backstabbing is dangerous if you are a hero.

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>>1531853
>>1531896
>>1531907
Y'all can do whatever you want.

>>1531907
I was just about the say the same thing.

>>1531912
have her show her abilities

>C. Pop an earbud in and divide your attention between Franchesca and the police scanner app.

>>1531912
>>B. Ask her something specific during the time between now and the meet up.

>>1531912
>B. Ask her something specific during the time between now and the meet up.

ask about her family or why she needed cash

>desire to bang cute goth chicks is intense

>but desire for DC superheroine/villainess booty is also intense

As long as you don't dangle a super goth chick booty in here.

>>1531984
>super goth chick booty in here
who is Raven of the Teen titans

>>1531984
cant we have dual persona date?
Ya know...Goth for normal Rick
DC superheroine/villainess for Vector rick

Dolly for Tiny Rick

>>1531991
I don't recall having met her, yet IC. Did I miss something?

Also

>goth
>leotard
Raven is 10/10 but still.

>>1531995
Yeah, let's cheat on a superheroine. That sound like a great idea. Nothing can go wrong with that.

>>1532003
he will dangle her infront of us
he seems like that type of qm

do they still do the leotard thing for her

>>1531925
>>1531930
>>1531931

You shift on the bench to get comfortable, knowing you’ll be here a while. Franchesca starts chattering on about her friends, half of them she qualifies as ‘B Friends’, the other as ‘A Friends’, then she leans in and whispers about a mystical third friend type. ‘Best friend’. She hasn’t met one of those, apparently.

You eventually grow tired of her conversation topics and pick one of your own.

“Hey, do you mind if I ask you something?” you inquire.

“No. You just did, though,” she says, smiling wide at you. Those dimples show themselves once more. You aren’t sure if she’s mocking you or just being her own brand of quarky.

“Why are you telling fortunes? Do you need the money for something specific?” You ask, suddenly filled with curiosity. It donned on you that Franchesca doesn’t seem like the type of girl who would strive after money for the sake of having it. She has to have a goal, right?

The doe-eyed goth girl watches you for a moment, studying your eyes-- looking for something. Eventually, she either finds it or gives up, shrugging and turning her attention to a jogger who passes the both of you. She watches the running man’s path for a long while.

“I like it,” she finally admits, looking watching the runner.

“That’s it?” you ask, a little disappointed with the answer.

“Well, no. It stems from that, but I like telling fortunes because I get to look into a set future, one I haven’t seen anyone be able to change. It’s like skipping a few pages ahead in a book, or fast forwarding a movie. I think it’s beautiful that there’s a set destiny for all of us,” she explains, looking off into the city dreamily.

You aren’t sure about all that, but whatever floats her boat.

“So why do you charge people?” You continue.

“Didn’t someone famous once say if you love something, never do it for free?” she answers, a question for a question. You chuckle at that, and she laughs with you.

>A. Wait with her until it’s time for the meet up.

>B. Ask something else.

>C. Ditch her like the terrible person you are.

>D. ???

>A. Wait with her until it’s time for the meet up.

>>1531995
You can do whatever you want senpai.

>>1532014
Nothing at all.

>>1532016
>Implying I don't already use outdated but superior versions of characters

>>1532024
>B. Ask something else.

"Has there been anyone whose future you couldn't read?"

>>1532031
I did not type senpai. Weird.

senpai senpai senpai?

>>1532024
>>D. ???
then why not work for the police or something

>>1532038
Ayy. Someone doesn't like the word f .a.m.

>>1532024

support>>1532032

"Just be careful with it. You know what they say' great power comes great responsibility' or something like that"

>>1532038
if you try and use T B H or F A M you get senpai or desu

>>1532032
This

>>1532024
>>B. Ask something else.
>"Has there been anyone whose future you couldn't read?"

>B. Ask something else
" can you read my future"

>>1532032
>>1532042
>>1532088

“So… have you ever been unable to read someone’s future?” you ask.

Franchesca shakes her head, inky black hair swaying in response. “Nope, never. It always comes true. I mean, sometimes the visions are a little interpretive-- Like this one fortune I told for that really tall kid who insists on wear basketball shorts every day of the year? The future I saw for him was just a crane trying to eat fish from a stream absolutely overflowing with salmon, but not being able to get a single one.. A few days later his dad set him up with a job interview. He tanked.”

Huh. Interesting.

You and Frenchesca go on like that, her telling stories and you interjecting every now and again. It’s a pretty one sided conversation, but you can tell she prefers it that way. Maybe seeing futures changed her outlook on this kind of thing, and she’d rather be the one doing all the revealing, rather than the one being revealed to by the universe.

That’s a dumb idea. You’re being dumb.

Eventually, it’s time. The two of you hop up off the bench and take a walk deeper into the city. She’s still a perky ball of energy, but you’ve mellowed out considerably. Franchesca leads the way, taking you through winding city streets and into a neighborhood you aren’t familiar with. It’s a lot nicer than your own, you notice as Franchesca leads you up the steps of a decent sized house. She hops up onto the porch, marches forward and knocks noisily.

A woman answers, middle-aged, african american and tired looking. She’s dressed fairly well, but has that overworked air about her, like a nurse or scientist might have. She barely glances across the two of you before screaming over her shoulder. “Vic! Your friends are here!”

The woman politely invites the two of you in.

Franchesca looks over at you and grins, then walks in. You follow along. It looks like your services aren’t needed. Still, gotta see this through.

>A. Take a seat on the couch.

>B. Stand behind Franchesca, looking menacing.

>C. Touch everything.

>D. ???

>>1532125
>C
We Monk now

>>1532125
>D. ???
Stand behind Franchesca, looking like a wallflower or something. We will be a shadow

>C. Touch everything.

>>1532128
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L_IOsLYVKkY

>A. Take a seat on the couch.

>>1532125
>>B. Stand behind Franchesca, looking menacing.

I swear if you Idiots don't come to a consensus against C you deserve what is about to happen

Okay so apparently there was a terror attack in London awhile ago involving more trucks of peace, thing is my sister is visiting someone over there and hasn't been picking up so we're done for now.

>>1532125
>C. Touch everything.
>D. Be gentle with it.

>>1532176
Hope she is well man.

>>1532176
Christ dude
Fuckin ISIS again?
First phillipines then this shit?

>>1532176

Hope she's doing alright.

>>1532176
oh fuck hope she's ok

the cell towers might be over burdened right now so that's why you cant get through

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>>1531984
Don't worry you can have both in one.

Well fuck, this has been running while i was in the last thread like a sucker.

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>>1532176
>tfw your sister hasn't picked up the phone for hours and then suddenly text "I was busy, met this guy." while you're worrying your ass off.

Fantastic. Just brilliant. Catch you anons tomorrow.

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>>1532809
Wow, that's something
See you tomorrow

>>1532809

At least she's not dead.

>>1532809
hah, yeah thats just like family.

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We're back, first post goes up in Half an hour.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i93I90T90Og

>>1541053
>Cant even hear that track
Thanks for the censorship goldbergstein.

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>>1541053
>Blocked in your country
Fuckin EU.
Captcha: All images with bridges
God damn it I keked

>>1541072
We getting cukd my yuropeens brudda

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>>1541057
>>1541072
>>1541078

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>>1541087

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>>1541087
Don't fucking laugh at us goddamn it it's not funny

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>>1532128
>>1532136
>>1532178

You follow Franchesca into the haphazardly decorated living room, a tacky trio of leopard print couches surround a stark white wooden coffee table dotted with empty glasses, and if you aren’t mistaken, the place smells like equal parts rum and lavender. There’s a huge flat screen hanging from hideous cowboy and indians wallpaper, and lining the three other walls are shelves stacked with everything from lamps, model planes and bobble-heads to high school sports trophies, signed sports memorabilia and family photos. Lots of family photos.

You try your best not to judge the decor too harshly. Your mom was into cow-print on anything and everything, after all. You share the pain the teens in this home must experience.

Franchesca skips over to take a seat on one of the plush couches, smoothing out her skirt just in time for her rump to land. She bounces a few times, and grins back at you, clearly excited about the house call. Strange, she was a lot more nervous about this visit before. You suppose your presence has something to do with her new confidence.

Being the curious gentleman you are, you can’t help but skirt the room, brushing your fingers along the knick knacks lining the shelves, surprised to find not a speck of dust. They either moved in recently, or the woman who let you in is a pro with a feather duster. The sports trophies are particularly shiny. A ‘Victor Stone’ seems to take the prize, totaling three awards and four trophies, all specifically tied to football.

The sudden roar of sneakers rushing down steps snaps you out of your inspective haze. A tall, thick and in shape fellow-- Victor if the photos and trophies are to be believed, lands at the base of the steps leading into the living room with a thud, having skipped the last few steps. He’s a head taller than you, and his hair is shaved short, shaped up nicely, and the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles. He’s wearing a gray T-shirt and basketball shorts.

You peg him as either your age or a senior at whatever school he attends. He grins at Franchesca as soon as he spots her, but when he notices you, you can’t help but notice the smile falter a bit.

You don’t take it too personally. He wasn’t expecting you.

Franchesca waves, all friendly-like, and you follow her example with a polite nod and a “Hey there.”

“ ‘Sup,” Victor greets you, before making his way over to your darkly dressed companion. They shake hands, and when you walk over to stand beside the couch, Victor shakes your hand as well. His grip is firm.

>Continued

>>1541146

Motherfuckin Cyborg up in the house

>>1541146
Aw fuck it's Pre-Incident Victor.

Why do you do this to us Papi?

Franchesca told us to follow so he doesn't get any funny ideas about dating her, wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew lad.

>>1541146


“So you’re the fortune teller my cousin’s been telling me about. Franchesca, right?,” Victor opens, falling into the couch across from the one Franchesca and you are at.

“Yup, that’s me! This is Rick, my faithful bodyguard,” Your perky charge chirps, reaching back over the couch to pat you on the chest. “You’re Victor, right?”

“Damn, you are psychic,” he says, laughing. “Yeah, I’m Victor. Victor Stone.”

“I am,” Fran confirms, but tacks on, “But your cousin-- and your mom just now are to blame for that one.”

“Right, right… Well, It’s nice to meet you. Do you need to set up candles, or get out a crystal ball..?” The big guy asks half-jokingly. You can tell he’s a little unsure about all this. Probably got talked into it by that cousin of his.

“Nope! Just have to see the three hundred, then we can do it right here,” Franchesca explains in a simple tone.

Victor digs into his pocket and produces a fat clip of twenties. He tosses it on the coffee table, then spreads his arms like a showman.

“Booya, there it is. Count ‘em and lets get this started!” He exclaims, rubbing his hands together, grinning like a madman. That apprehension from a few seconds ago is gone. He’s got an infectious personality, you’ve got to admit.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Franchesca responds cheerily, leaning forward to swipe the cash up. She counts it in half the time you could, then tosses you a sidelong smile. You assume that means this is going well, or better than usual at least. Makes sense, in this line of… work? Sure, work. There are bound to be a few deadbeats or over-analyzing worry-warts trying for absolute certainty before spending a dime.

“Perfect. Okay, Victor, what did you want to know?” She asks.

“Alright, um…” Victor trails off, brow furrowing. He’s most likely trying to word his question so he doesn’t get monkey pawed or something. It’s what you’d do, anyway.

Before the poor guy gets too deep into that thought process, Franchesca clears her throat and holds up a finger.

“You don’t only have one question. The money’s for a short session. I’m not going to screw you out of your money for not being able to word it right. Relax,” the girl assures him, canting her head and smiling wide.

>Continued

>>1541198

“Alright… So, I got a football scholarship for this college, right? Not the best, but it’s good. Thing is my Dad keeps pushing me to go to the school he went to-- get into the sciences. He works at S.T.A.R labs, theoretical whatever. I need to know if I’m actually going to make it to the big leagues if I take the football scholarship, or if I should just go with my dad’s suggestion. If I’m not gonna make it doing what I love, there’s no point in not going for the money, right?” Victor asks.

You have to admit, that’s some decent logic. This is an important decision, and while you aren’t sure about Franchesca’s abilities, you did agree to support her with this. If she’s really a scam artist, this might be incredibly fucked up.

>A. Stay silent, let Franchesca do her thing.

>B. Pull the girl aside and have a talk with her. You don’t know if she’s the real thing or not, so she might fuck this guy’s life up for three hundred bucks. Gotta be sure.

>C. Pull Victor aside, and tell him Franchesca’s a scam artist. You aren’t sure whether she is or not, but better safe than sorry.

>D. Write In.

>>1541203
>A. Stay silent

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>>1541198
Please tell me we can prevent this

>A. Stay silent, let Franchesca do her thing.

>>1541203
>>A. Stay silent, let Franchesca do her thing.
She seems to know what's happening

>>1541203
>A. Stay silent, let Franchesca do her thing.

>>1541203
>A. Stay silent, let Franchesca do her thing.

>>1541203
>A. Stay silent, let Franchesca do her thing.
Bodgards dont talk

>>1541203
>A. Stay silent, let Franchesca do her thing.

>>1541206
Not without being super-meta about stuff, doesn't really make sense to go ham when we're just joining for the ride.

>>1541203
>D
Maybe nudge her and show her our concerned face. She must know the weight of this choice

>>1541205
>>1541207
>>1541208
>>1541214

Franchesca leans forward and offers an upturned hand, lips pulling into a gentle smile. Victor looks confused for all of a microsecond before he gets it, and places his larger hand in her’s. The usually cheery goth girl’s eyes flutter to a close, and you watch the fortune telling process unfold without disturbing them. Sure, this might be a scam, but Franchesca hasn’t been anything but kind to you. You hope that kindness isn’t a front.

There’s a pressure in the room, and you aren’t sure if it’s new, or if it was always there. You shift your gaze around the poorly decorated room, but can’t seem to find anything out of order. Bringing your focus back to the pair, you notice Franchesca’s shoulders are shaking, and Victor is looking at you with the expression of someone who just found a chick crying in the corner of a party, and you’re her ride home.

“Uh… is she alright?” Victor whisper-shouts at you, looking back and forth between you and the shuddering girl.

You shake your head, and shrug. You’ve got no idea.

Suddenly, your ears pop, and Franchesca’s eyes shoot open. She pulls her hand out of under Victor’s, and gingerly places it on her lap. She looks visibly shaken by the experience, and this is the first time you’ve seen her without at least a trace of a smile on her lips. It’s a little unnerving. You try and place a hand on her shoulder to comfort her, but she just shrugs it off.

“You don’t make it,” she says bluntly. Her expression is absolute stone.

“...What? That’s it?” Victor asks, raising his voice a little. “You wanna elaborate on that? At. All?”

“You do not make it to the big leagues. It simply doesn’t happen. Is that all you wanted to ask?” The girl asks curtly, crossing her arms.

Victor stands abruptly, barely containing his anger. “No. That’s fine. Take your money and get out of my house.”

Franchesca seems just fine with that, rising from the couch and turning on his combat boots to leave.

>A. Follow Franchesca.

>B. Apologize to Victor, then head out.

>C. Tell Victor not to worry about it, then head out.

>D. ???

>>1541269
>His combat boots.
And suddenly it's revealed Franchesca is a trap.

Her*

>>1541269
>A. Follow Franchesca
He's not going to take her advice... and he'll have no one to blame but himself.

>>1541269
>A. Follow Franchesca.

>>1541269
>>A. Follow Franchesca.
Well our jobs done here, time to go hit on totally not Death.

>A. Follow Franchesca.

>>1541269
>A. Follow Franchesca.
>>1541276
I dont see the pro...wait a minute, this aint my japanese cartoon

>>1541269
>A. Follow Franchesca.
>D. So what he's gonna break his knee trying or something more serious?

>>1541277
>>1541281
>>1541282
>>1541283
>>1541287

You follow the marching goth girl out of the Stone household, and have to doubletime for a minute to keep up with her marching pace. When you reach her side, you notice her mascara is running. She glances at you, then quickly wipes her eyes with the heels of her hands. She whispers cuss after cuss until she’s done, making herself a little more presentable.

After a good five minutes of silence and walking in no particular direction, you can’t help but ask.

“What… did you see?”, you ask in a comforting tone. You can’t help it, there’s biology at work here. Gotta find the problem, even if you can’t fix it.

Franchesca looks at you, frowning. She studies your eyes, before lowering her own to the sidewalk. She shakes her head, indicating she’d rather not answer.

“That didn’t seem like it was your usual psychic fortune telling routine, Franchesca. Tell me what you saw. It can’t have been that bad. What, does he trip and break his leg?” You ask, grasping for ideas.

The girl only shakes her head again, and shields her face with one of her hands, trying to cover up the water works. Yeah, you aren’t getting much else out of her. You try and comfort her again, and this time she’s a little more receptive-- not shrugging your hand from her shoulder, but the damage is done.

----

You walked Franchesca home, making sure not to bring up whatever vision she had again. She thanked you and headed inside after letting you know she hasn’t forgotten about the favor she owes you. Without so much as a handshake, she disappeared into her home, audibly locking her door.

You wander Central City, hands in your jacket pockets, mind swimming with worries and possibilities and options. Franchesca, if she really is psychic, must have seen something pretty terrible to get her to react like that. It’s been nagging you, really, but you decide to push it out of your mind for now. You have more important things to worry about.

The sky is dimming-- only a few hours of daylight left. Captain Boomerang, the imprisoned Captain Cold, the multitude of other criminals and villains plaguing the streets… they aren’t going to wait around for you to socialize and worry about girls. You have to be ready. You have to train.

>A. Visit Carl’s Boxing Gym, get started on learning how to fight.

>B. Head to Central City Hospital. Learn some first aid.

>C. Find an abandoned warehouse in the industrial district. You can practice your power there.

>D. Write-In

>A. Visit Carl’s Boxing Gym, get started on learning how to fight.

Either boxing or first aid. Let's get down the fundamentals before adding our power into the mix.

>>1541341
>>A. Visit Carl’s Boxing Gym, get started on learning how to fight.
Gotta learn how to break those bones better

>>1541341
>B. Head to Central City Hospital. Learn some first aid.

>>1541341
>>A. Visit Carl’s Boxing Gym, get started on learning how to fight.

cool we meet cyborg before he became cyborg

>>1541341
>A. Visit Carl’s Boxing Gym, get started on learning how to fight.
Did someone say TRAINING MONTAGE?

>>1541361
MONTAGE MUSIC

HIT IT!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ES9vRfs2rbA

>>1541341
>A. Visit Carl’s Boxing Gym, get started on learning how to fight.
>D. Look for some classes on Muay Thai or Tai Chi (really, anything full body).

File: Boxing.gif (894 KB, 500x251)

894 KB GIF

>>1541344
>>1541346
>>1541358
>>1541361
>>1541404

You decide getting a grasp on how to not fight like a flailing idiot is a good place to start. Of course, you already know the absolute basics, like not tucking your thumb under your fingers when throwing a punch, and to keep your hands up. The complexities of hand to hand combat are foreign to you, however, and you are very aware of this. Luckily, being aware of what you lack gives you an edge some people never get.

Upon reaching Carl’s Gym, a squat stone building with no real indication of its purpose aside from a small neon red sign reading ‘Carl’s Boxing Gym’ hanging by the door, you get kind of excited. Obviously it isn’t going to be like it Is in the movies, but you’ve always wanted to learn a martial art or fighting discipline. It’s one of those things every guy has planned-- honing his body as a weapon just in case he has to defend himself or someone he wants to protect, but few ever actually go through with it.

You made sure to stop by your house to pack some gym clothes before coming here, and your bag with your workout clothes is slung over your shoulder as you pull open the heavy steel door and head inside. You’re immediately assaulted with a strange aroma resembling dirty laundry bathed in fabreeze. Whoever runs this place, Carl you guess, at least gave it a shot.

The place is almost completely empty, save for two young men wearing protective gear slugging eachother in a dirty ring in the center of the room. You notice the gym isn’t all that spacious, and most of the equipment-- Punching bag, speed bag, mats, some kind of pully machine, are space rather close and line one wall of the room. There’s a doorway at the other end of the room that you assume leads to the bathrooms, and another with the word ‘OFFICE’ printed on a piece of paper on it.

This place is wholly unprofessional.

A squat bald man wearing blue-tinted tea shades and a black track suit suddenly walks into your line of sight, nearly giving you a heart attack.

“Hello! Hello! You came to fight, right? Of course you did. Come, come,” the man encourages you, grabbing hold of your arm and all but dragging you to the edge of the ring without letting you respond. You stumble along, chuckling nervously, and end up watching the fight.

Two men, one shirtless and the other in a tank top are absolutely going at it. It’s hard to see their faces through their gear, but one of the fighters is tan, and has long straight dark hair done up in a pony tail. The other fighter is black, much bigger than his probably spanish opponent.

Ponytail ducks a left hook, responding with a trio of jabs. The larger fighter swings fervently, throwing haymaker after haymaker in an attempt to knock the smaller fighter out-- but he just can’t seem to land a hit, instead earning a few light shots for every one of his missed strikes.

>A. Ask who you presume to be Carl who the fighters are.

>B. Just keep watching.

>>1541452
>A. Ask who you presume to be Carl who the fighters are.

>B. Just keep watching.

>>1541452
>>B. Just keep watching
wheres ted grant man

>>1541452
>B. Just keep watching.

File: Denzels Nigga.gif (3.07 MB, 600x255)

3.07 MB GIF

>>1541452
>Makunoichi Gif

also

>A. Ask who you presume to be Carl who the fighters are.

>>1541468
Hush, child. All in good time.

>>1541452
>B. Just keep watching.

Guys how the fuck do I disable tabs from popping up when I enlarge an img? I thought it was native to 4chan but maybe that's one of the apps I had.

>>1541555
uhh go to setting on 4 chan or your cookies other then that I got nothing for you

>>1541555
Do you have 4chan X? I think it has a feature where you just hover over images and gifs and it'll enlarge it automatically.

>>1541464
>>1541468
>>1541469

You let your gym bag slip off your shoulder as you watch the fighters go at it. Really, this isn’t like anything you’ve seen on television or the internet, not even professional boxing matches. You get the feeling these two aren’t trying to outscore each other or wait out the clock, they’re in straight up combat. You suddenly get the feeling this is incredibly unsafe, and turn to who you presume to be Carl with the intention of protest, but his attention is squarely on the two fighters. You shrug and watch the rest of the match.

Ponytail is a blur, bobbing and weaving-- shooting jab after jab after dodging the larger fighter’s huge swings. You can see the heaving of the big guy’s chest, the glistening sheen forming on his skin. He’s tired, and the constant gloves being thrown at his face and halting his breathing with every impact aren’t helping.

Eventually, he simply gives out after throwing a huge right hook that misses wide. The fighter stumbles and falls to his knees, waving ponytail off with a crimson-gloved hand when he tries to help him up. The fighter pulls himself up, tugs off his padded helmet and throws it at the mat in frustration, then stomps off to the showers.

Ponytail lets out a good natured laugh, an all too familiar one. The Latino boxer removes his padded helmet and wipes the sweat from his brow, then turns to Carl and yourself.

It’s Cisco.

“Damn, you see that? Davie is pissed!” Your classmate announces irreverantly, pressing his weight against the ropes at the edge of the ring. You blink at him, and he notices you-- blinking back.

“Yo Rick! I didn’t know you boxed!” he announces, grinning wildly.

“I’m in the same boat, man. I didn’t know you could fight at all. Those were some good moves, man. How come you never mentioned this?” You ask, a little in awe of the fact Cisco had this side to him.

“You never asked,” he answers simple.

Carl watches the two of you with a curious expression, one that Cisco catches wind of almost immediately. Your classmate frowns, rolls his eyes and pushes off the side of the ring to get his padded helmet.

“Get changed,” the squat man tells you.

>A. Uh… okay? Grab your things and head to the showers, which you assume double as changing rooms.

>B. Ask him why, you haven’t even agreed to anything yet.

>C. Hop up onto the ring apron and have a chat with Cisco.

>Write-In

>>1541575
Yeah thx, I didnt like that feature but it's better than having to close a fucking tab.

>>1541577
>A. Uh… okay? Grab your things and head to the showers, which you assume double as changing rooms.

>>1541585
I find it makes thing way more manageable. Don't even have to click the gif or the webm just hover over it. Convenient as all hell.

>A. Uh… okay? Grab your things and head to the showers, which you assume double as changing rooms.

Time to get fucking crunk.

>>1541577
>A. Uh… okay? Grab your things and head to the showers, which you assume double as changing rooms.
>I don't know bawxing how do punch pls

>>1541577
>A. Uh… okay? Grab your things and head to the showers, which you assume double as changing rooms.

>>1541577
>>A. Uh… okay? Grab your things and head to the showers, which you assume double as changing rooms.

>>1541577
>>A. Uh… okay? Grab your things and head to the showers, which you assume double as changing rooms.

>>1541577
>>A. Uh… okay? Grab your things and head to the showers, which you assume double as changing rooms.

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170 KB JPG

>>1541589
>>1541593
>>1541601

You scoop up your gym bag, hurried along by Carl into the changing room. You pass the guy who was fighting Cisco, who seems to have cooled off and is now thumbing his phone while drying his scalp with a towel. The two of you nod at each other, then you find a place to change. Before too long you’re in a black tank-top and shorts, and back out on the gym floor.

Carl gives flashes you a crazed grin, and you notice a few of his teeth are missing.

“You’re gonna show me what you got, kid,” the squat man informs you, gesturing to a pile of equipment lying near the ring.

Oh.

Cisco gives you an apologetic shrug from inside the ring, already geared up and ready to go. He jabs the air a few times, ducks and weaves, shadowboxing. You scowl at the entire situation. Isn’t this a bit unfair? You haven’t even gotten a single lesson.

As if reading your mind, Carl pipes up. “Hey, hustle! I need to see where you’re at before I decide if I’m gonna train you or not, alright? Not gonna waste my time with wusses afraid of getting punched, so get in the ring or get outta my gym,” the squat man barks at you, before waddling over to a stool to plop down on.

“He did the same thing to me, man, don’t worry about it,” Cisco calls from inside the ring. “Just get your gear on and get beat on for awhile, nothing to be scared about!” He calls, chuckling. He sure seems confident. You don’t expect to be able to take on Cisco in a fair fight, seeing as he actually knows what he’s doing, but you damn well aren’t going to let him roll over you. Gotta try, at least.

After fumbling with the gear for awhile, and getting no help whatsoever, you eventually climb your way into the ring opposite to Cisco, who grins at you in a friendly ‘I’m totally not going to knock you out’ way.

Carl leans over in his stool to grab a metal bar, then slams it on a bell a few times, signaling the fight’s start.

Here we go.

>A. Charge Cisco, swinging with all you’ve got. Gotta take him out quick.

>B. Keep your hands up and try and mimick with Cisco was doing before, dodge and weave, throw a jab or two when you think you can afford it. You’re pretty sure you know how to jab correctly. Maybe.

>C. Get crazy, move around a lot, be strange and unpredictable. Maybe confusing your opponent will allow you to get the upper hand.

>D. Write-In

>>1541690
>>C. Get crazy, move around a lot, be strange and unpredictable. Maybe confusing your opponent will allow you to get the upper hand.
Best way to beat someone who is trained.

>>1541690
>D. Write-In
>Turtle for the first round. See what he's capable of and let him tire himself out a bit.

>>1541690
>C. Get crazy, move around a lot, be strange and unpredictable. Maybe confusing your opponent will allow you to get the upper hand.

At least we'll go down like we lived: memeing.

>>1541700
>>1541690
This. If nothing else, learning how to get our ass kicked will help us

>>1541690
>>D. Write-In
>>Turtle for the first round. See what he's capable of and let him tire himself out a bit.

>>1541690
>C. Get crazy, move around a lot, be strange and unpredictable. Maybe confusing your opponent will allow you to get the upper hand.

>>1541690
>B. Keep your hands up and try and mimick with Cisco was doing before, dodge and weave, throw a jab or two when you think you can afford it. You’re pretty sure you know how to jab correctly. Maybe.

>>1541700
I'll change to this then I like toitle.

File: Rollin'.gif (598 KB, 300x200)

598 KB GIF

>>1541700
>>1541707
>>1541713
>>1541734
Sounds reasonable. DC 80. Roll.

Rolled 13 (1d100)

>>1541739
STRONKKKKK

Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>1541739

Rolled 20 (1d100)

>>1541739
float like a butterfly

Rolled 96 (1d100)

>>1541739

Rolled 100 (1d100)

>>1541739

Rolling

>>1541749
STRAAAAAAAAAAAANKS

File: WellLookAtThat.jpg (30 KB, 268x320)

30 KB JPG

>>1541748
>>1541749
>>1541751
You managed to not get knocked out immediately. Fun.

>>1541756
L8 but still pretty good

>>1541756
THE FUCK DUDE WHY DIDNT YOU ROLL SOONER

>>1541756
jesus fuck anon, what did you eat today.

>>1541771
>>1541770

Not my fault you guys are quick on the draw.

>>1541772

French bread pizza.

>>1541766

Putting your dukes up, you step into the center of the ring, and so does your opponent. The two of you circle for a moment, getting a feel for each others movements. Cisco’s signature grin is nowhere to be seen, his focus entirely on the fight. It looks like he isn’t going to go easy on you, no matter who you are. You wonder what kind of training he’s been doing-- to get that intense a level of focus.

You keep your gloves up and commit to a strategy. It’s not like you’re going to outbox a boxer, so committing to making this a learning experience, you keep your head low and study what Cisco has to bring to the table. When your pony-tailed opponent notices you aren’t making any offensive moves, he rolls his eyes and gets down to business.

Cisco tosses a few light jabs, nothing damaging, but enough to divert your attention long enough for him to skip in and deliver two shots to your gut that send you stumbling back, coughing. You weren’t ready for that. He moves in once again, jabbing, then going for body shots-- but you aren’t about to let the same trick work on you twice. You thrust a glove down and push Cisco’s gut shot harmlessly away, only for him to pepper you with jabs to the face that leave you a disoriented.

You start to see a pattern emerging here, even among all the deception and technique. Cisco is going through motions-- switching between light jabs to the face and heavy straights and hooks to your body. After a few successful parries and a lot more unsuccessful ones, you manage to land a counter hook straight to your classmate’s jaw, sending him stumbling away.

He shakes his head, and breaks that concentration for just a moment to flash you a grin. He’s glad you aren’t a pushover, that much is for sure. You go ahead and smile right on back, earning you a sudden jab that you’re barely able to block.

The dull thrum of pain caused by Cisco’s body shots are distracting, to say the least, but otherwise you’re fine. Cisco has been moving around a lot more than you, though the two of you appear to be around the same level of fatigue. You’ve started throwing out experimental shots, most missing or being blocked, but stick to your strategy most of the time.

>A. Switch it up, get violent. Cisco thinks you’re a defensive fighter, and this is the element of surprise.

>B. Keep it up, stay on the defensive.

>C. Get. Crazy. Be strange and unpredictable.

>D. Write-In.

>>1541866
>>A. Switch it up, get violent. Cisco thinks you’re a defensive fighter, and this is the element of surprise.

>>1541866
>A. Switch it up, get violent. Cisco thinks you’re a defensive fighter, and this is the element of surprise.

Added bonus of letting Carl see this side of ourselves as well

>>1541866
>A. Switch it up, get violent. Cisco thinks you’re a defensive fighter, and this is the element of surprise.

>>1541866
>>D. Write-In.
>Keep our guard low and bait out a hook to the jaw. Duck under and thrown an upper straight for his.

>>1541866
>>A. Switch it up, get violent. Cisco thinks you’re a defensive fighter, and this is the element of surprise.

>First we punch him in the nads, then headbutt him, then roundhouse him in the throat, then finish with biting his ear off. All perfectly legal and normal moves to be found in a boxing match, especially a spar.

>>1541866
>A. Switch it up, get violent. Cisco thinks you’re a defensive fighter, and this is the element of surprise
Attack Attack Attack Attack Attack Attack Attack Attack Attack Attack Attack Attack

>>1541866
>A. Switch it up, get violent. Cisco thinks you’re a defensive fighter, and this is the element of surprise.

Go out with a BANG

File: ALittleBirdie.jpg (44 KB, 500x624)

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>>1541870
>>1541873
>>1541876
>>1541885
>>1541900
>>1541902
Y'all crazy. DC 75. Roll digital chance prisms.

Rolled 52 (1d100)

>>1541910
Time to rock and or roll

Rolled 78 (1d100)

>>1541910

Rolled 11 (1d100)

>>1541910

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136 KB PNG

>>1541922
He did it the absolute madman.

File: ThumbsUpBats.gif (1.55 MB, 500x480)

1.55 MB GIF

>>1541914
>>1541922
>>1541923
Just barely.

>>1541928
With Cisco tossing combinations left and right, and you barely being able to keep up, there’s only one course of action your adrenaline-filled mind can come up with. Attack!

You let out a roar and start throwing punches, wide swings and tighter-- more skilled shots you’ve seen Cisco toss altogether. It’s more of a rush than anything else, a flurry to surprise your opponent, and you aren’t surprised when a majority of your strikes either miss entirely or are blocked. Still, Cisco wasn’t prepared for this, and eventually you land a right cross straight to the pony-tailed fighter’s mouth, the impact reverberating throughout your arm and body. That felt good, not because you’re beating on your friend, but moreso because that felt right. Even if you aren’t sure what it’s called, that execution has to be in the books somewhere.

Cisco stumbles, but steps right back in, jabbing and pounding your body with impacts that make you want to vomit. You’re able to land a few more shots on the guy, but he’s steadily keeping the upper hand. Still, being able to keep up like this completely untrained has to be impressing Carl, and you get confirmation with a ring of that bell. Cisco immediately skips back and tugs off his padded helmet, before letting out a high pitched ‘Woooooooo!’

You struggle out of your helmet and let it fall to the ring mat, sucking air like its no one’s business. Holy shit, you kept up! In fact, you’re almost positive you were about to beat him for a moment. Well, not positive.

Cisco walks over and claps you on the shoulder, grinning like a madman.

“You sure you haven’t done this before? That was crazy, man!” He says jovially.

“T-thanks man…” you manage to say in response, still out of breath.

“Pretty good, kid. You’re allowed back any time. Not now though, I need a burger,” Carl shouts over his shoulder, already walking towards the exit. Strange guy. You wonder if he’s even a half decent coach, but then, Cisco here is a pretty good, so he has to be doing something right.

You and Cisco wash up and change, eventually ending up out in front of the gym, you wearing your jacket and jeans, him in a blue flannel and cargo pants. When the two of you are done chattering about the unimportant bits, school and the like, Cisco eventually asks something of substance.

“So, why’d you decide to come to Carl’s? It’s kind of run down, and the guy only trains a few people at a time. Oh, maybe you heard about the champions thing?” Cisco asks, then rattles off a whole slew of accolades you haven’t heard of. The way he’s talking about Carl, you’d assume the kid was his hype man.

You have to cut him off, eventually.

>A. You needed a workout, and to get in better shape. This seems fine.

>B. You want to get better at fighting, to protect yourself and others.

>C. You are a superhero. This is better than relying on your powers entirely.

>D. Write-In

>>1542017
>B. You want to get better at fighting, to protect yourself and others.
>A. You needed a workout, and to get in better shape. This seems fine.

>>1542017
>A. You needed a workout, and to get in better shape. This seems fine.
>D. Also looks fun.

>>1542017
>>B. You want to get better at fighting, to protect yourself and others.

Also meta for a sec, but if we're gonna do boxing we oughta track down Wildcat.

>>1542017
>A. You needed a workout, and to get in better shape. This seems fine.

>>1542017
>>A. You needed a workout, and to get in better shape. This seems fine.
>B. You want to get better at fighting, to protect yourself and others.

>>1542017

>A. You needed a workout, and to get in better shape.

>>1542017
>>B. You want to get better at fighting, to protect yourself and others.

B is such a boring option

>>1542056
ur a boring option

>>1542023
>>1542029
>>1542031
>>1542037
>>1542046
>>1542049
>>1542052

After a moment of thought, you tell Cisco you came here to learn to fight. To protect yourself, and others, as well as get a good workout and get in better shape. Cisco doesn’t seem to find any issue with that, in fact he gives you an approving nod.

“Same here, t’be honest. My brother’s in the hospital, and dad’s not around. None of my other brothers know how to fight, so if anything goes wrong, I’m kinda the only one who knows how to handle it,” Cisco informs you, tugging the band keeping his hair up free. His straight black hair falls around his shoulders.

“Damn, your brother’s in the hospital? What happened?” you ask.

“Some asshole came at him with a knife. The crime in this city is fucking stupid common,” Cisco spits out, mood shifting suddenly. “I mean, the whole country is screwed. The world too, probably. Central City is a nice place, and even we get stabbings and theft and super villains romping through the streets every once in awhile. It’s stupid. The Flash and Vibe and that guy with the scarf aren’t going to keep up safe forever. We need more heroes, or we need to know how to protect ourselves.”

Cisco pulls out a smartphone, and starts thumbing through applications, looking for the right one. After a moment, he taps a little radio icon, and opens that police scanner app he put on your phone awhile ago. He turns the volume down, but there’s a stream of numbers and letters and callsigns buzzing under your conversation now-- and since you got to memorizing a few codes, it’s a lot harder to just ignore.

“Anyway, It’s cool you’re getting into this. We don’t hang outside of school, but I come here every Saturday and a few days out the week. I don’t know how often you’re planning on coming here, but if you’re still figuring out a schedule just use mine. I can kick your ass more often that way,” he says cheekily, grinning at you.

You punch him in the shoulder in response, and he stumbles away, groaning in mock-pain. That’s better. This Cisco is a lot more fun to deal with.

Suddenly, you register a stream of letters and code phrases, the scanner’s broadcasting for backup at the local museum. Something about an ‘Atypical Threat’, which you’ve come to recognize as ‘Super Powered Criminal’ or strange phenomena heroes tend to deal with. Cisco doesn’t seem to have caught the message, even though it’s being repeated again and again.

>A. Tell Cisco you have to get home, then get out of sight. Get your costume, then get to the museum ASAP!

>B. The police, the Flash, and others can handle it. It’s late. You’re tired. Hang with Cisco then head home.

>C. No time to lose, rush straight to the museum.

>D. Write-In.

>>1542135
>>A. Tell Cisco you have to get home, then get out of sight. Get your costume, then get to the museum ASAP!
The only way we're going to get better is constant fighting.

>>1542135
>>A. Tell Cisco you have to get home, then get out of sight. Get your costume, then get to the museum ASAP!

>>1542135
>B. The police, the Flash, and others can handle it. It’s late. You’re tired. Hang with Cisco then head home.

We're in no shape to fight crime right now.

>>1542135
>>A. Tell Cisco you have to get home, then get out of sight. Get your costume, then get to the museum ASAP!

>We don’t hang outside of school.

Awww, he wants to be friends.

Offer to hang out with Cisco later. We are currently Billy No-mates.

>>1542135
>B. The police, the Flash, and others can handle it. It’s late. You’re tired. Hang with Cisco then head home.

Vibe is Cisco's brother.

>>1542170
No, really?
>>1542169
We're friends with not Death

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34 KB PNG

>>1542170
I feel like a fucking idiot for not catching that.

File: brain problems.png (22 KB, 623x371)

22 KB PNG

>>1542196

Same here.

>>1542200
I dont have the brains problems

>>1542135
>A. Tell Cisco you have to get home, then get out of sight. Get your costume, then get to the museum ASAP!

>>1542135
>A if we aren't totally fucking winded
>B if we are

>>1542270
this

>>1542147
>>1542148
>>1542169
>>1542255

“Hey, Cisco, I’ve gotta get home. My dad will kill me if I’m out too late,” you tell Cisco, using the excuse to jog down the street, your gym back bouncing off your back. “We can hang anytime, man! I’m definitely coming back to the gym!” You call over your shoulder, just to make sure he doesn’t get the wrong impression. No reason to be rude to Cisco. Cisco’s cool.

Your friend whoops a goodbye after you, before heading to wherever he’s headed. You duck into an alley, then check to make sure no one’s looking. Once you’re sure the coast is clear, you begin to build that energy in your gut, the pressure rising and filling your being with strength. You shudder for a moment, still having to keep focused, otherwise the power will activate on its own.

Your eyes shoot open, and the edges of your vision blur, the center a laser-sharp focused tunnel. You’re off, dashing from alley to alley, hopping over comparatively frozen cars and avoiding pedestrians, using hyper-speed dashes to make it home in two minutes flat. You rush inside your home and up the stairs to your room, your dad waving over his shoulder as you pass, sippin’ his coffee.

You slam your door shut behind you, earning you a gruff warning from down below. You wince, hoping your dad doesn’t come upstairs, and start getting suited up. You slip on those friction-resistant tights, then the stylish boots made to resist wear and tear. The gloves go on next, then the bullet proof motorcycle jacket. You strap the watch you promised to wear on, then finally, place the helmet over your head. Fully suited up, you glance at the full body mirror at the edge of your room.

You feel like this won’t ever stop being cool.

---

Skidding to a halt a few blocks away from Central City’s own Museum of Historical.. things you weren’t paying attention to in the pamphlet, you take a moment to get a better look at the situation at hand.

It’s late, almost midnight by your estimation, and the sky is cloudless and dotted with twinkling stars. A slew of police cruisers form a crescent shape around the front of the museum, and spotlights are being shone on the entrance, bathing the already marble building in ghostly light. You were sure to get an update on the situation before you rushed over, and from your understanding, there’s someone in the building holding a few civilians hostage and making demands.

>A. Speed up to the cops and ask them to fill you in on the situation. Hopefully they recognize you as a hero.

>B. Rush past the police and straight into the museum. Nobody’s going to see you if you move fast enough.

>C. Dash around and see if you can’t find a better angle on the museum, figure out a plan of attack or just gather some extra intel.

>D. Write-In

>>1542294
>>C. Dash around and see if you can’t find a better angle on the museum, figure out a plan of attack or just gather some extra intel.

>>1542294
>C. Dash around and see if you can’t find a better angle on the museum, figure out a plan of attack or just gather some extra intel.

>>1542294
>C. Dash around and see if you can’t find a better angle on the museum, figure out a plan of attack or just gather some extra intel.

>A. Speed up to the cops and ask them to fill you in on the situation. Hopefully they recognize you as a hero.

>>1542294
>>B. Rush past the police and straight into the museum. Nobody’s going to see you if you move fast enough.

>>1542294
>>C. Dash around and see if you can’t find a better angle on the museum, figure out a plan of attack or just gather some extra intel.

>>1542294
>C
>D
Hostage retrieval a go go baby

>>1542185
Implying she's not doing her "one day as a mortal shtick every century" but this time for a whole year.

>>1542294
>C. Dash around and see if you can’t find a better angle on the museum, figure out a plan of attack or just gather some extra intel.

>>1542346
I hope she is because then we might actually be able to date her.

>>1542346
Something tells me Death has better things to do than tell fortunes and putz about for an entire year. It hurts, but I think she's out of reach right now.

>>1542390
She can probably do whatever she wants, I see no reason why she can't just make clones of herself to take people to the afterlife. I mean what is she supposed to do if two people die at the exact same time around the world?

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>>1542303
>>1542308
>>1542310
>>1542329
>>1542332
>>1542346

Deciding you’d rather not go into this situation blind, you activate your hyper-speed and dash ‘round the museum, looking for a better vantage point. Strangely, any window you or entrance you find is blocked off or reflective of the outside terraces. Annoyed, you take another lap around the building, making absolutely sure you haven’t missed an opening. Nothing.

This isn’t a complete bust, however. The reflective surfaces blocking the windows give you an idea. You pull out a cell and look up some information on who you assume can be the only local villain behind this. It takes you a moment, but the hoards of internet cape-fanatics don’t disappoint. You find an article on Mirror Master, a blurry photograph of a man in a yellow and green suit posted over some information gathered. You get the bright idea of dashing forward while you read, effectively cutting the time needed to process the information to a fourth.

Unfortunately, there aren’t any conclusive ideas on Mirror Master. He’s either magic or a genius scientist, an illusionist or inter-dimensional traveler using his out-of-this-world technology for criminal purposes. Still, the central idea is static. He’s a master of misdirection and illusion. Maybe you made the right choice not just rushing in there without a plan.

“Listen, let one of the hostages go, and we’ll fulfill one of your demands!” A man in a police jacket announces into a microphone, the device broadening his already booming voice. “You have to understand this won’t end well. The Flash will be here any second.”

There’s no response from the building, but you can hear a low, lazy whir start up. The sound builds ever so slowly, barely perceptible in rising pitch. You aren’t sure what’s happening.

>A. Better safe than sorry, dash a few blocks away and wait for whatever’s going to happen to happen.

>B. Dash over to the police officers and warn them, though they most likely hear the whirring.

>C. Round the building and dash right on in, this time with an idea of what you’re up against. Still risky.

>D. Write-In

>>1542413
>>1542390
>>1542360
Even better, we might even meet her brother, Not!BRIAN BLESSED.

>>1542439
>>B. Dash over to the police officers and warn them, though they most likely hear the whirring.

>>1542439
>>C. Round the building and dash right on in, this time with an idea of what you’re up against. Still risky.
Can't let him finish whatever he's doing.

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>>1542346
>>1542360
>>1542390
>>1542413

You guys need to calm down. She isn't even that ho- Oh.. Oh...

>>1542439
>C. Round the building and dash right on in, this time with an idea of what you’re up against. Still risky.

>>1542439
>>C. Round the building and dash right on in, this time with an idea of what you’re up against. Still risky.

>>1542439
>>B. Dash over to the police officers and warn them, though they most likely hear the whirring.

>>1542452
Then we'd have to eat his shitty cooking while listening to his shitty poetry.
>>1542457
Death's personality is literally the character you wrote.

>>1542457

Please don't change the character due to waifufagging.

>>1542467
Completely unintentional.

>>1542469
Don't worry about that.

>>1542467
Could just be similar, there's only so many different sorts of people in the world, it's when you get to the fine details they get interesting.
Maybe they just share an overall personality type.

>>1542484
I figured it was by chance, but damn if you didn't make almost the exact same character.

>>1542484
Good, so about that Zatanna...

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>>1542454
>>1542459
>>1542460
Alright, well, roll for running headlong into a mostly unknown situation. DC 80.

Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>1542510

Rolled 75 (1d100)

>>1542510
Time to be a hero

Rolled 86 (1d100)

>>1542510

>>1542508
Zatanna is currently still at her own personal Hogwarts with pops.

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>>1542521
YEAH

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>>1542518
>>1542520
>>1542521
Damn. You seem to have pleased the dice gods.

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>>1542521

>>1542413
Well it seems when people die they go to her, not the other way around.

>>1542529

Whatever who you can only assume to be Mirror Master is planning, it can’t be good. A few of the police officers have drawn their sidearms, and a good many more are ducking behind their cruisers, the whirring giving perfectly sound reason to worry. You aren’t about to let this thing reach its climax, not if you’re able to stop it. Building that energy within, you burst forward once, twice, thrice, and line yourself up with the entrance of the museum, straight down the road a few yards behind the police line.

A wide-eyed police officer, freckle-faced and worried beyond her years, glances over her shoulder just in time to spot you crouched in a runner’s posture. She barely has time to process what she’s looking at before you disappear in a blue of motion, barreling down that hyper-speed highway, straight into the museum’s doors.

You burst through the entrance without much difficulty, though you imagine those huge wooden doors were pretty expensive. Oh well, all’s fair in cops and robbers. You have trouble processing the images to your sides, due to your blurred vision, but have a pretty good idea of what’s directly in front fo you. Surprisingly, you spot Mirror Master right away, just standing there holding a gun of some description. He’s shorter than you imagined, and his yellow jumpsuit is ill-fitting.

This is gonna be cake.

You speed forward and throw a lazy jab at the villain’s thigh, looking to snap it and put him out of commission, as you’ve done with a few other bad guys. Your fist, however, passes straight through him.

What?

You skid to a halt, and turn to look at the grinning figure. He turns to face you, looking rather pleased with himself, but his expression twists to one of confusion. He doesn’t recognize you. Good, you can use that.

“And who are you supposed to be?” You hear reverberating from all around you. Shit, is he in your head? No, speakers. It’s hard to tell. The voice is nasal, but raspy at the same time. Altogether unpleasant to listen to.
>Continued

>>1542693
Still they never run into each other and Death does go and do shit besides spending all day dealing with newly deceased.

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>>1542701

Neglecting to answer, you glance around to find the source of the whirring, spotting a trio of hostages-- A little girl with a back pack, an older gentleman, and a young man clutching the little girl protectively. They’re sat huddled near a shattered display of one of the first cameras to be invented, and a short ways off there’s a device about the size and shape of a bowling ball with a slice taken out of it to act as a base. You recognize it as the source of the whirring.

Mirror Master, or at least the image of him, aims that pistol at you. Your eyes widen, and you scramble to speed off, narrowly dodging the blast. After skidding to a halt near the device, you glance back to find the spot you were standing is unharmed. That figure must be there to distract from the real threat. You turn to the device and use your hyper-speed to punt it, absolutely tearing through its components, causing it to explode. You’re tossed back against the far wall, but luckily your invulnerability was active on impact.

"That wasn't very smart, now was it?" You hear reverberate around you. "Maybe try and use your head. Having to deal with amateurs is tiresome."

The civilians are unharmed, but not for long, it seems. Four more Mirror Masters have surrounded them, holding pistols with hexagonal barrels pointed to their heads. Not to mention the room is starting to shift, the entrance nowhere to be seen now. The hell is going on?

>A. Use your speed to dispatch the Mirror Masters holding their weapons to the hostage’s heads. You can’t take the chance that one of them might be real.

>B. Search the premises for any more devices that might be the cause of these illusions.

>C. Screw it, get violent. Crash through anything and everything until you’ve broken whatever it is casting these illusions. You’ll most likely bust up some priceless artifacts, but these people’s lives are in danger.

>D. Write-In

>>1542722
>A. Use your speed to dispatch the Mirror Masters holding their weapons to the hostage’s heads. You can’t take the chance that one of them might be real.

>>1542722
He's probably not even here and he's using cameras and mirror bullshit but eh
>A. Use your speed to dispatch the Mirror Masters holding their weapons to the hostage’s heads. You can’t take the chance that one of them might be real.

>>1542722
>>A. Use your speed to dispatch the Mirror Masters holding their weapons to the hostage’s heads. You can’t take the chance that one of them might be real.
then
>>B. Search the premises for any more devices that might be the cause of these illusions.

>>1542722
>>A. Use your speed to dispatch the Mirror Masters holding their weapons to the hostage’s heads. You can’t take the chance that one of them might be real.

>>1542722
>D. Look, buddy, I know you aren't going to kill the hostages. It's just not your MO. Frankly, I don't want to spend the next hour looking for the real you, either. So...why don't we break even? I secure the hostages and focus on that, you make your escape? Nobody has to have any embarrassing accidents?

>>1542742
>>D. Look, buddy, I know you aren't going to kill the hostages. It's just not your MO. Frankly, I don't want to spend the next hour looking for the real you, either. So...why don't we break even? I secure the hostages and focus on that, you make your escape? Nobody has to have any embarrassing accidents?

I like this.

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>>1542728
>>1542732
>>1542736
>>1542740
>Taking the direct option when mirror master has been hinted at being a master of misdirection and illusory bullshit
Never change, Anons. DC 90. Roll.

Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>1542782
BARRY BLESS MY ROLL!

Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>1542782
Why use our brain when we can use our fists?

Rolled 45 (1d100)

>>1542782

Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>1542782

Rolling

Rolled 23 (1d100)

>>1542782
Fuck I was late, I'll try anyways.

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>>1542790
>>1542792
>>1542797

Rolled 59 (1d100)

>>1542782
Plz be in time.

God didn't want this to happen.

>>1542714
Who never runs into each other? You lost me.

>>1542782
We gotta' learn the hard way.

>>1542846
No one who dies runs into anyone else who dies even if it happens at the same time when they meet death. So she has to have some way to handle when people die without her being their.

I don't really know the flashes enimes at all beside reverse Flash

I found them all to be to stupid

>>1542852
I was speaking figuratively. I didn't mean to imply there was a waiting line. But of course going out and reading a bit just so I don't look like an ass, Death can be literally everywhere at once. And that apparently any mortal she falls in love with has "their downfall assured" which is vague and dumb. But since everyone dies we can assume it means some other fucked up shit happens to them before they die.

She also appeared for a day on earth as a man. And it seems she can only ever take a day off once a century for a single day. I'm not sure. But with all the other "rules" and shit that she apparently has to deal with it's probably pretty safe to say she can't just do whatever, whenever. She still talks to her siblings at will, I think. Fuck if I know. Shit gets confusing when you're looking at decades old comics and retcons and reboots and spinoffs and other shit.

Basically ask Slink, since he's god here.

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>>1542862
>I found them all to be stupid

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>>1542807

Damn it, the hostages! You can’t let anything happen to them. What kind of hero would you be? Drawing upon the energy within, you let it build and then burst forth in a torrent of speed, striking through all four of the mirror images, causing them to shatter and clatter to the ground. What the hell is even going on? He’s supposed to be a master of illusion, sure, but this is pointless annoyance.
You’re starting to think he isn’t even here.

You turn your attention to the hostages, one of which has disappeared. The man clutching the little girl looks up with you with fear in her eyes, while the little girl herself seems more curious about you than what’s going on. She reaches out to touch your helmet, but there’s no time for adorable shenanigans.

“Hey, where’d the old man that was with you go?” you ask the young man, your voice distorted by your helmet’s speaker. The man only gives you a quizzical look.

“What old man? It’s just us,” he answers, voice trembling. “Please, help me and my little sister. We have to get out of here!”

Out of the corner of your helmet’s screen, you notice the old man lying unconscious a few feet away. You gesture for the two to not fret and warn them to alert you if anything weird happens, then jog over to the old man’s side. However, when you reach him, he starts to turn, and distort, and flatten, as if he was a two-dimensional cutout of a person. In his place you see the barrel of some weapon-- and before you can rush off, you’re caught in net, the netting of which is charged with electricity!

You’re thrown to the ground with the force of the net gun, and the pain that courses through you. Every muscle in your body tenses uncontrollably, and you scream in pain. Fuck, this hurts!

While you toss and turn in pain, you notice a reflection on the inside of your motorcycle helmet. It’s a laughing Mirror Master, pointing right at you and chuckling.

>A. Try and use your speed to break free. You have… absolutely no way of getting a run going, but maybe your power can blast you out of this on its own.

>B. Call for the young man to help you. He’s the only friendly in the area.

>C. Ride out the pain. That police officer on the radio said the Flash was coming. He’ll save you!

>D. Write-In

>>1542914
>A. Try and use your speed to break free. You have… absolutely no way of getting a run going, but maybe your power can blast you out of this on its own.

>B. Call for the young man to help you. He’s the only friendly in the area.

>>1542914
>>A. Try and use your speed to break free. You have… absolutely no way of getting a run going, but maybe your power can blast you out of this on its own.

>>1542914
>A. Try and use your speed to break free. You have… absolutely no way of getting a run going, but maybe your power can blast you out of this on its own.
We go in a direction, let's try and work with gravity this time.

>>1542914
>A
Straight. Into. A. Wall.

>>1542914
>>A. Try and use your speed to break free. You have… absolutely no way of getting a run going, but maybe your power can blast you out of this on its own.

>THRASH ABOUT

Fucking mirrors and their tazers.

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>>1542922
>>1542929
>>1542932
>>1542940
>>1542944
Alright anons. Silver lining. Roll for something... special. DC 70.

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Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>1542960
I hope that our ability isn't superspeed, but magnifying vectors of our choice.