Previously on With Great Power Quest: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=With%20Great%20Power%20Quest

>>4755171
>enlist friends to reach out to various parties
Time to get smart before we all die horribly.

>>4755171
>enlist friends to reach out to various parties
Teamwork makes the dream work

For the nostalgia of best gang in town going out
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KLM4tU8qxQc

>>4755171
>enlist friends to reach out to various parties

We did just recruit a bunch of parahumans, including a teleporter.

>>4755244
>>4755192
>>4755185
locked in

There was no sense doing it all myself, not when I had allies better placed to do it for me. So I'd put out the word, let everyone know. The stone was going to be at Indiana Harbor, first come, first serve.

The story was I was done with totting the thing, sick of the extra risk. If they wanted it, they could have it.

And maybe rie up some loose ends on the way.

I bounded from city block to city block, a human meteor whistling through a cold blue sky. There'd been snow the night before, leaving Chicago an icy wasteland. The city was holding its breath, waiting for the celebration to come with nightfall and the fireworks to go up when the ball dropped at midnight.

A hard year behind us, a hard year ahead. I sat atop Franklin Center looking down on the winter-clad city. Polar winds made me shiver even in the day time, even in the warm embrace of my costume.

Everyone thought they owned this town. The Outfit, the Cartel, the police, the government. Everyone had their piece and wanted more. They were willing to kill, to bribe, to corrupt their way into greater power, greater control. Always wanting more.

But they didn't own the city.

We did. We, the people. The normal, everyday folks and the paranormal together. This was our town and it wouldn't be bought and sold by a gangster, whether they had a gun or a briefcase.

And it was past time each of them learned it.

I watched the sun gleam on Lake Michigan, a crust of ice forming on its ancient waters, fangs of ice rising on its banks, churned by the waters. The Hawk wind howled down from the north, carrying with it all the icy sting of a dying Arctic.

It was time to stake a claim.

"Never in this thing of ours has there ever been a woman made."

It was the backroom of St Christopher's. Cigar smoke swirled in the darkness, cherry red light glowing around her on every puff, the only sound other than the boss.

"We've had women associates, with money on the street, shylocking, earning. But never made."

She wore a pinstrip suit and a nervous glare.

"Your father was with me, your grandfather helped teach me, your great grandfather came out with Al Capone hisself to take this city. Take it from the Greeks, the Jews, the Irish. Make it what it is, and hold it. Hold it against the Polish, the Mexicans, the Russians, the Blacks."

"Your blood is Old Calabrese, since your people first stepped off the boat in New York City. Your family has been loyal, a hundred years of tradition."

"Never in this thing of ours has a woman been made. But never has there been a woman like you. So I give you this chance now, before oaths are made, to walk away. Walk away now because once the oaths are made it no longer becomes you but 'us', no longer I but 'we'. You become part of this, you become part of this forever, it becomes part of you."

"So it's been since time immemorial."

She nodded.

"Do you swear your loyalty to your family? To keep silent in all things, to betray no secrets to outsiders be it by pain or violence?"

"Yes," she said.

"Do you swear to obey your family? To protect it against any threat, to do as you're ordered no matter the sacrifice to yourself?"

"Yes," she said.

"Do you swear to kill for it, die for it, do what's asked of you at any time, at any place?

"Yes."

The boss nodded, gesturing to the table, to the knife and the gun. She picked up the knife. A quick jerk over her palm, a brief sting, and blood leaked down from her hand.

The boss placed a picture of St Francis in her palm. She started the fire, with her own power.

"If you should ever break with us," he said, holding her by the wrists, holding her eyes with his, the intensity of his glare hotter than her fire, "If you should ever betray your family or our traditions, may you burn like this picture, and burn in hell for all eternity."

"I swear," she said.

Then he heleaned over her burning palm, and put a kiss on her cheek.

"Then welcome to the family, Gabriela," he said, "Salamander."

Salamander's grin grew as the lights flicked on overhead and a roaring cheer went up from among the watching gangsters. Happy like she'd never felt, dizzy as they came up one by one, her cousins and uncles, to shake her shoulder or give her their own kiss on the cheek, congratulating her. Made men and capos, her family.

"Happy new year!" Carlo Vecchi said, pulling her into a hug.

Then her beloved uncle, her father's brother, shook her hand without smiling or saying a word, tears in his eyes. She hugged the old man tight like she'd want to hug her own father, and he went soft in her arms.

As all this went on the boss watched, lighting a cigar, wearing his own cool smile.

It's all she ever wanted.

Then her boss' smile dropped as Frankie the Nose whispered something in his ear. The cigar was dropped next, in an ashtray. They went out the back, the boss and the captains, leaving Salamander with her well wishers. Something was going on.

-

Billy Lonegran didn't speak Spanish. He did speak shitty back talk though, in any language. And the back talk followed him in muttered Spanish no matter where he went. It didn't matter he'd switched from biker leathers to silk shirts, or had Navaja's vouch.

He was a gringo. An ugly, English speaking gringo who had betrayed his own people for a job running girls for the Midwest Cartel. Beneath contempt. Even the girls didn't respect him, though he'd taught them to keep their mouths shut.

How did it come to this, he thought. Sitting in a lobby like some jagoff waiting to be called on by an uptight twat while dealing with smirks from brown faces shouldn't even be in this country. They didn't even let him smoke, not in this nice corporate lounge.

He waited. He was supposed to have been seen at 10:30 now it was closing on twelve.

The door slid open. He swallowed at who walked out. Baby Girl had bleached her hair blonde, cut it short, but the leather pants still gripped the same, the sashaying stride hadn't changed, and neither had the press on his crotch when he saw her.

Sullivan wasn't around and thank God for that.

But when she saw him her usually blank face curled into a familiar smirk of contempt.

Goddamn, even her. It was enough to make him spit. He thought about saying something to her, but then thought better on it. He wasn't smart but he wasn't that stupid either.

Anyway, he was being called in by Rodrigo, one of Navaja's 'managers'.

Finally.

He found her before her shrine, in the back room. Rodrigo left them alone.

Nuestra Senora de la Santa Muerte. Our Lady of the Holy Death. Incense burned beneath the grinning skull, dressed in a shawl and garlanded in flowers. Navaja, in a humble black dress, knelt before it, praying.

"What do you know of faith, Billy Lonegran?" she said.

Billy shrugged. "I'm not much of a church goer."

"That wasn't my question," she said, eyes still closed above her hands, "Faith can be in many things. A faith in God, a faith in laws, a faith in the goodness of mankind."

Billy grinned. "Never had much to do with those either."

She opened her eyes. "I have faith," she said, "Faith in a father's love for a child. Faith in violence. Faith in his fear, so that when I hold a knife to his child's throat, he knows I will use it, and he will do whatever he must to keep it from happening."

She put a finger to the skull, running down the dome of the skull. "Our Lady of Death came to me in a vision," she said, "Showed me the way forward."

Then she looked over her shoulder at him, and he was surprised she looked sad. "They say many things about me Billy," she said, "That I was a whore, I was a gangster's mistress, I was the daughter of a big shot who stole her way to power. But I will tell you a secret, and have faith you won't spread it. Because I know you are scared of me, Billy. More scared of me than any love you have for anyone else. It's how I can trust you, in a way."

"I was a nun," she said, "A school teacher in Jalisco, before I came to America, before I became Navaja."

His eyebrows shot up. It was hard to believe.

"The Lady of Death came to me and showed me I was following the wrong path. She showed me a city, far to the north. She showed me no prayers to Christ would save me from myself. Only through her could I be granted...salvation."

A look on her face, eyes wet and wide, transformed the plain faced woman to something else, the image of a stain glass martyr. Billy swallowed, more uncomfortable than ever.

"Your former friends have come to me, to tell me a story and ask for mercy. They've found our package, but they say it will be a fight to claim it. I mean to go take it. You will come with me. Your friends ask in return I spare their lives. Shall I do this?"

He swallowed, thinking about Sully, thinking about Baby Girl. Thinking about his own hide if he gave the wrong answer.

"I think," he said, "You should do what you have to do."

She smiled. "Very good Billy," she said, "Very good."

be back in a sec

The Old Man wiped grease from his hands, considering the question.

"Aren't you tired of working for someone else?"

Sullivan had made a good point.

"With this on our hands we can run things, no more mercenary work. We can be the boss."

The boy had come humbled, asking for an audience. The Old Man liked Sullivan, he'd indulged him, despite his failures. There was something in his outlaw swagger reminded him of himself at a younger time. But he didn't trust him.

Still the question played over in his mind.

"We can rule this town."

The Old Man had seen them come and go, the conquering overlords. All from other places. The Greeks, the Italians, the Mexicans, the Vietnamese. Everyone reaching for a crown over a river of blood.

Paying tribute to lords of their own. The Five Families of Ney York, The Sinaloa Cartel, the Triads and Tongs of who knew where.

Foreigners.

And he had picked up the dregs, he and the original thirteen members of the MC. Black, Asian, Latino, White, it didn't matter. The hotheaded men who fit in no where and needed a place to go. With a simple philosophy. Everyone pays in, and everyone gets looked after. Your bike, your brothers, the road.

Simple living, with money coming from working outside the law for the would-be-kings. And if any outsider tried to come and interfere, they'd be dealt with too.

But to run the show...

"What do you think Hyun?" he asked to his second. It was rare he asked a question.

The Korean lowered his titty magazine.

"I think Sullivan wants back in," he said.

"Is he telling the truth?"

"He brought our brothers back," he said, "You taught me not to trust words, only actions."

The Old Man nodded.

"We'd need everyone," he said.

"I'll put out the call," Hyuk said.

A rumble of rumbles, the Old Man thought.

Then he smiled.

Why the hell not?

>>4755457
oh fuck this is huge
I'm hyped

Wow, this really went to shit.

I sat with the pigeons, letting out a slow breath.

Tomorrow loomed in my imagination, tonight did too.

It was silly to say but I was nervous about Kemal's party. Everyone was going to be there. And tomorrow, there was never a guarantee I'd come home from tomorrow. So if tonight was all there is, and the world is over tomorrow, what was there to do?

The stone was a weight against my chest.

I'd prepared how I could, but I'm only fifteen and struggling to swim.

I'd made mistakes this year, maybe more than I realized. Who knew what was a mistake until the consequences fell? I'd gotten people killed, maybe I'd get more killed yet. Maybe I'd be one of them.

Maybe it didn't matter.

I'd been in a fight, but this was a battle. Waiting for it was something else. The closest I'd felt to this was riding out with Misfit on the I-88 to take the stone in the first place, but even that had been more a plan. Stop the Stunt Crew MC, simple.

What was the plan here but dive into the fight and hope we made it out the other side?

Uncertainty, that was where the fear was.

Fear, I'd found out, wasn't always a bad thing. Fear kept me on edge, kept me from getting too relaxed. But fear run wild just left me a mess of nerves, and was no good to anyone. And everyday it was as if my fears grew. Fear of failure, fear of my loved ones getting hurt. Fear of getting hurt.

I was all Dad had left.

Sitting with the pigeons, listening to them coo, the fluff of their wings. It helped a little but it didn't sort anything out.

Maybe I needed to talk to someone, maybe I just needed to bounce. Maybe cracking a head would help.

Either way, I was done sitting still.

>go talk to someone (who?)
>bounce around, look for a crime to stop
>just take it easy, get ready for Kemal's party

>>4755495
>go talk to someone (who?)
Ivy

>>4755495
>go talk to someone
Kay

>>4755499
This

>>4755554
>>4755499
locked that in

I bounded around town before getting tired, the thoughts in my head not easy to dislodge.

I needed to talk to someone. Someone who wouldn't be scared of what I had to say the way Dad would, or try to tell me what to do. I needed to talk to someone who would listen, and maybe give an opinion but not try to steer me around.

I thought about everyone in my life who I could really talk to and a name came to mind.

Back in my hideout I changed into my normal clothes, then caught the bus up to the north side. I fired off a text seeing if she was free.

She said 'yeah'.

I walk down ice-slick streets, trying not to shiver. Queit suburbs with nothing to worry about, Christmas decorations still up on some lawns, parked cars covered in frost.

The Carver residence was a warm welcome compared to outside. warm enough I took my coat off and hung it up.

"Oh Eric, you looking for Ayesha?" her dad said, coming out of the kitchen with a cup of cocoa and a bear claw, "She's over at Kaylee's."

"No, I'm looking for Ivy," I said.

"Upstairs, getting ready for work. Last shift of the year. Shit, I'm glad I don't have to work new year's eve anymore. Working retail, hospitality, it sucks the fun out of it."

He took a bite of the bear claw.

"Thanks Mr Carver," I said, heading up.

Some kind of up tempo britpop was playing on the speaker as I knocked on the open door.

I caught her dancing, her back to me as she pulled on her shirt, the music too loud for her to hear me, or notice. I watched for a second as she rolled her head back, swaying in time to the music.

I knocked again, louder.

Ivy turned around quick, pulling together her half open shirt, fingers twisting the buttons into place. Little blooms of pink colored under her eyes.

"Hey, you got here quick," she said, turning down the music, "What's up? Sorry, I'm getting ready for work. Those grease pits won't clean themselves."

"Nothing," I said.

She had the guest bedroom, across from Ayesha's. A pink paintball gun sat on her dresser, photos attached to the mirror. Photos of her and Ayesha, some people I didn't know. A photo of Grace when she was healthy, feeding a horse in a stable. Nothing of her parents.

Nothing of me either.

"So nothing's up," she said, sliding a book into her bag, "You're just here to say hi, even though we're both going to the party tonight. Yeah, that tracks."

"Something then," I said.

"Something, okay we're getting somewhere," she said, "Slowly but surely. So what something?"

'I'm going to be waging war tomorrow and I'm scared.'

But my throat was tight. I didn't want to say the words.

"Is it school stuff or the other stuff?" she said.

I swallowed. "....the other stuff," I said.

A concerned look flickered over her eyes. "It must be bad," she said, "If it's got you spooked. I don't think I've ever seen you spooked, not about this stuff."

"Not...bad," I said, "Just...yeah, okay, kind of bad."

Ivy sat down on her bed. "You don't have to talk about it," she said.

"I don't want you to be scared," I said, "I don't want anyone to worry."

"There's no better way to get someone scared than to say 'don't be scared'," she said, "Something big is going down."

"It's not like I'm not always in danger," I said, "It's just...more of that."

"There's a fight tomorrow, a big one," I said, "The kind of fight where it's not...not impossible I don't walk away."

"When do you turn sixteen?"

It wasn't the question I expected from her. It shook me out of my thoughts.

"Uh, March 15th," I said.

"So not even three months away," she said, raising up two and a half fingers. She nodded to herself. "Okay here's the deal. You survive this fight so I can get you a birthday present. Something good. Don't worry, I'll think of something. Something worth living for. Shit, those are easy to find, right?"

"Nah, you don't have to-" I started.

"Yes I do," she snapped, standing up from the bed. She glared hot eyed, so hot I thought my face would start to burn. "You don't get to dump this kind of thing on someone and then say 'don't worry about it! It's cool!' You don't get to do that Eric, you selfish asshole."

"Hey," I said, "What's with the hate?"

"What's with me?" she said, "You come here looking scared, talking scared, and the second I try to do something you're acting all chill about it. I know you're scared Eric, you don't have to front."

"Ivy, look, I just don't need you-"

The look flashed over her face, the sudden hurt, was a knife to my gut.

"To do anything!" I finished, "To do anything but listen," I said, "I just need someone to listen."

I was trembling. I grabbed her arms, as much to steady myself as to stop her from drawing away.

"I just need you to listen," I said.

"I'm scared," I said, "You're right. I'm always scared. People think I'm brave but I'm the biggest coward you've ever met. And tomorrow, tomorrow is the scariest shit I've ever done. It's not just a scrap or a fight or...this is a battle. A real battle. People are going to die and I might die and if I die I'll be gone and Dad will be alone and I just don't...how can I know that and still go, Ivy? How can I do that to him? And I'm so fucking selfish because I know that's not going to stop me from going. What kind of person does that to someone they love?"

Then she hugged me, she pulled me into a tight, warm hug.

"Jesus Christ," I whimpered into her hair, "Jesus Christ what the fuck am I doing?"

"It's okay," she said, "It's okay. You're okay."

"Oh God Ivy," I said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't put this on you, I shouldn't."

"No," she said, "It's okay. You're okay."

"I'm not okay," I said, "I'm an asshole. Putting this on you." I tried to pull away, but she pulled me back.

"You're fifteen," she said, "You're scared. It's okay. I'm scared too."

"Don't, please, I shouldn't have-" I said.

She cupped my face, smiling.

"I'm always scared too Eric," she said, "Worrying about you. I..."

Her eyes widened, her breath drew back into her throat. Now she looked scared. A new kind of fear woke up inside me.

"I need to get ready for work," she said, pulling away from me.

>let her get ready for work
>pull her back

(I'll be back tomorrow)

>>4755647
>let her get ready for work
"I'm gonna make it through tomorrow. Then I'll do what I wanted to do just now. Not in the heat of the moment or for a quick comfort but because it's the way things should have been this whole time."

For me, the bond between Kay and Eric has always been more superficial than with Ivy. I think this moment could help Eric finally see that. Kay would've just told him not to do this crazy plan tomorrow. Ivy understands that we need to and won't stop even though she's scared.

>>4755647
>let her get ready for work

>>4755647
And this is why Ivy is a best and Kay is a shit. Also, who do we go to to unpack our baggage?

>>4755647
>let her get ready for work

Man this is a tough situation. I think Eric should break up with Kay before going for Ivy, but breaking up with Kay the night before this crazy ass battle seems like a shitty idea. But I really do think Ivy is for us what grandma is for grandpa, which is what Eric should be looking for.

>>4755647
>let her get ready for work

>>4756236
>But I really do think Ivy is for us what grandma is for grandpa

Big disagree. Ivy is another grandpa. She needs someone to keep her sane, she can't help keep us sane.

>>4755669
Support
>>4756248
I think the most recent update is proof that you're wrong but we can definitely agree to disagree. Maybe seeing how Kay reacts when we tell her about tomorrow will help show the difference. And if we don't tell Kay at all then that shows a pretty serious issue in the relationship.

>>4755669
>>4755676
>>4755931
>>4756248
>>4756262
locked in

"Okay," I said, letting her pull away.

A hot worm of shame squirmed in my gut. I couldn't help but think about Kay, and what I'd felt for a moment there as a betrayal. Whatever I was feeling in the moment, it wasn't worth hurting Kay over, and it wasn't right over.

But as I watched Ivy flick out her hair to tie it back in a bun, shame started surrendering to something else.

"Ivy," I said, "I'm going to make it through tomorrow."

She looked back to me, a stray lock of blond hair falling artfully over her face.

"I know," she said, tucking it back.

"And when I'm through it I..." I paused, unsure what I wanted to say, what I wanted to tell her. "I'll see you at the party," I said, turning for the door. I stopped halfway out. "Sorry about putting this on you," I said, "I just...needed to talk to someone about it, and the only one I could think of was you."

I didn't look to see how she took it but it was a minute before she replied.

"See you tonight, Miller," she said, picking up her bag.

She went out and I went downstairs, not sure what to do now I was alone in the Carver house with only Mr Carver for company.

"You okay son?" Mr Carver said, clicking off the tv.

I shrugged. It was a loaded question with me. How the hell was I ever doing?

"You want some advice?" he said.

"Not really," I replied.

"Too bad, 'cause you need some," he said, "I got you coming in and out of my house, I figure a talk is due. Now listen. Don't go trifling around. You want to be with a girl, you be with the girl. You don't want to be with a girl, you leave the girl. And you don't go by half and play around with a girl's feelings, not when you're with someone else, or you'll get a painful lesson."

"Understand?"

I shrugged, but said 'Yeah.'

"You're a pack of kids," he said, "You aren't set for life yet, you don't have to take it serious, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't try to be decent. Have fun but don't hurt anyone."

He leaned back in the chair, a thoughtful look in his eyes. "I'm being a sagacious oldhead today."

"You jus' wish you had a son to lecture," I joked as I was heading out, "Happy New Year Mr Carver."

"Happy New Year Eric," he replied.

I hit the cold blast of air outside feeling a little better about somethings and a little worse about others. One thing I did know, I was going to make it through tomorrow. The question was, with Kemal's party looming, was I going to make it through tonight?

Bass thumped the house, a pulse in the middle of the street. I'd seen the pictures already, a stack of pizzas, a couple of kegs, people already vibing in the heated jacuzzi on the back deck.

Kemal- 'Za enough for everyone.

Night was on and the cold was up but everyone was out anyway, heading to clubs or house parties or over to Millenium Park to watch the ball drop while listening to some live music played in the cold overlooking the half-frozen lake.

Winter didn't mean shit when Chitown meant to party.

Cars lined the street, classmates getting dropped off or picking out, chatting excitedly, building themselves up, sinking into the vibe. Energy coursed through the groups heading up the lawn to the big house Kemal called home.

Kemal had it to himself, the elders all jetset off to Qatar for some big get together Kemal had put off joining in on. I'm not sure what Kemal's parents did for a living but he said his dad was a 'futurist', whatever the hell that meant. What it did mean was he earned big bucks flying around the world for various conferences and meetings. It was a family trade too, Kemal's uncles and aunts were all somewhat connected in a big technocratic clan of Arabian idea merchants.

Whatever, it left the house free during the holidays, with Kemal mostly unsupervised.

I knew the party was going to be big but it was bigger than I'd expected. When Kemal said he'd invited everyone, he hadn't been talking out his ass.

There were people I expected. Rufus, Hunter, most of my friends in the basketball team, and my other pals like Dane and Zeke. But also the nerds, Chad, Ben and Annie, who I'd never seen at a party before tonight. They looked uncomfortable, Ben tugging at his collar, Chad, checking his hair. And it wasn't all nice surprises like that. Bryan Kusich and the football team were there, Bryan shotgunning a can of beer before wiping it back behind his shoulder, some narrow faced cheerleader under his arm. Last time I'd seen Bryan he'd tried to stand over me, get me to back down and roll on my belly after I'd caught his cousin Jeremy being a little turd.

If Kemal had a bad habit it was looking for the best in everyone, including oversized bullfrogs like Bryan Kusich.

The other Brian, Brian with an 'i', was hanging around with his arm in a cast, looking like he was holding to sell, the middle class, soft imitation of a corner boy. I wondered briefly which of the gangs supplied him with the party drugs he dealt. I doubt even Brian knew.

I was thinking that right as an arm hooked through mine and a kiss struck my cheek.

"Hey good looking," Kay said. I looked down at her freckles, her smile, neon light reflecting over her green eyes.

Ayesha waved behind her, Malcolm with his arm over her shoulder.

"Hey," I said, holding her hand.

We walked up the rest of the way over the cold crisped grass.

"Yooooo!" Kemal came swaggering through the front door wearing oversized sunglasses and a long Hawaiian shirt. He pulled me and Kay into a hug. "You guys came! Fuck yeah, the party is starting now!"

Despite the house already being full, Kemal had a way of making us feel like the center of the party. He had that gift with everyone he met.

"Hey Kemal," Kay said, "You're graduating in a couple of months, right? Do you know what college you're going to?"

"NYU baby," he said.

"Oh yeah? My cousin is going to Juilliard," I said, "Maybe you guys can meet up."

"Juilliard, that's so fuckin' cool," he said, "I'd definitely roll with one of your cousins, even if they're only half as cool as you."

Like I said, he has a way of making people feel good about themselves. I couldn't help but smile. He had a way of making you believe it.

"We got 'za in the kitchen, beer in the keg, and a party anywhere you look," he said, "So have fun, cut loose. Let's blow this shitty year out in style."

The bass line buzzed through me as a drink found its way into my hand. Kay led the way through the mess, Ayesha and Malcolm behind us, a couple of couples naturally forming. We found our friends on the couch in the living room, Daphne, Rufus, Hunter, Zeke, with Dane coming back with a pizza box for all of us.

"This year suuucked," Zeke said, taking a slice.

"Yerp," Rufus said, taking his own.

"Next one is going to be dope though," Hunter said.

"You sure about that?" said Dane.

"Got to be," Rufus said, "It would really need to put the work in to be worse."

"Have a little faith, Roof," Daphne said, "We made it through this one, and we've got a lot to look forward to. We've got our fine friend Kay performing in Les Miserables, we have the Winter Ball, and then, after all that we've got Spring Break."

"Me, I'm looking forward to summer," Hunter said, "I'm sick of snow. Get some sun in, get on a boat. Global warming can't happen fast enough, turn Chicago into Malibu already, get some bikini babes around."

"Don't joke," Ayesha said, sliding into a seat, "It's not funny. But...y'know a bit of sun couldn't hurt."

"I like the cold," Dane said, "It makes me appreciate the warmth."

"You would you freak," Rufus said. The word 'freak' turned the laughter awkward, the moment uncomfortable. Rufus took a long drink.

"Hey, did you see the nerds were here tonight?" Zeke said, elbowing Kay.

"Oh man, Kemal invited those guys?" Kay said, rolling her eyes.

"They aren't so bad," Ayesha countered.

"I think its cool, you know, seeing them come out," Hunter said, "If you gave them a chance maybe you'd see they aren't so bad. Ben's pretty cool, and Chad knows everything about anything. Even Annie's pretty funny when you start to get her."

"Mr Hunter I'm surprised," Zeke said, "Are you becoming a geek? Are you going to be playing Yu-Gi-Oh soon? Should we put in together and buy you a body pillow?"

Hunter wriggled uncomfortably. "I'm maybe putting together a Magic deck," he admitted, "I had a lot of time doing nothing with my busted arm."

"It's cool you're seeing past the high school cliques," Malcolm said, "It's all bullshit. When you're at college you'll see it never meant anything. Hell my room mate at U of C, he's my best friend now but in senior year I wouldn't even have talked to him."

"I guess maybe we should give them a chance," Kay said. "And you know this year hasn't all been bad. We've got real, actual super heroes now. It's so cool!"

"And super villains," I muttered.

"And we've got Eric," Ayesha said, clapping my shoulder, "Blown in on the hawk and we're glad he did."

I took a long drink to hide my blush.

"So what do you think Eric," Zeke said, "Good year or bad?"

>good
>bad
>shrug

>>4757171
>I'll make it better

>>4757171
>good
Practice that optimism we preach
Definitely had some bad moments but we also saw a lot of good ones

>>4757171
>bad
but I think bad years are when you learn the most about yourself so I'll take it

>>4757177
I'm sure you didn't mean it this way but I got a real sultry sexual proposition vibe from this write in

>>4757171
>>4757177
>Good
>I'll make it better

>>4757171
>shrug
It’s certainly more eventful

>>4757190
also what do you mean by I'll make it better? the years over

>>4757198
For the next one, or you know, not dying painfully tomorrow.

>>4757198
They could mean they'll make it a really good next few hours? I assume the ball hasn't dropped yet.

>>4757171
>shrug
Lots of good and bad, but it's definitely a crazy time to be alive

>>4757209
Eric isn't really known to be the life of the party

>>4757218
Hey man I'm just guessing, I didn't vote for it

Party crash moment when?

>>4757171
>Good

>>4757281
>>4757190
>>4757179
locked in with 'good'

I mulled over the question as I considered the beer in my cup.

"It's been a rough year," I said, "Moving to Chicago, losing Mom." Getting beat up and put in the hospital, seeing more death and murder in a few short months than most saw in a life time. Running up against psychopaths and villains who haunted my nights. "But there's been a lot of good too," I said. Getting my powers, saving people, taking down bad guys. "I didn't have a lot of friends back in Indiana, not real ones. I didn't really have much going on. But now I've got basketball, I got the team, I got you guys."

"Aww," Kay fawned, squeezing my hand.

"We've been through some real rough times," I said, "But there's been good times too. Just kicking it in the Loop or goofing off after school, parties like this with good people. We've got a lot to be happy about."

"It's true," Rufus said.

"And you know, the super hero stuff is pretty cool," I said. Being one was, at least. I couldn't pretend there wasn't a core of joy to it even under all the darkness. Leaping through the sky with the wind whistling down, the feeling of having stopped something awful in its tracks, and standing over a bad guy beaten down.

"Super heroes now, monsters tomorrow," Hunter said, "You be careful about that."

"Man, cool it with that," Rufus said, pushing Hunter with a self-concious look to Dane.

"I'm not saying they're all bad," Hunter said, "But I heard stories about compounds of para-freak communities in the south side, building up for something. I mean, you'd tell us if they were planning something, right?"

For a second I thought Hunter was talking to me, but he was looking to Dane.

Dane rolled his eyes. "Sure Hunter, I'll let you in on the master plan for humanity's overthrow," he said, "Dude, I don't even know any other para-folk, not in real life anyway. There's a discord server I'm part of, but I'm not sure if they're legit or just roleplayers."

"Roleplayers?" Ayesha said.

"Yeah, people who go online pretending to be paras for clout," Dane said, "It's all kinds of shitty. You can get a real following faking powers online. You learn how to spot them though, or I have anyway. But you know, I'm up late." He had a self-recriminating smile.

It was interesting. I hadn't thought on it, but I was kind of disconnected from the para-community. Until I met Thunderchild I didn't even know there was one. Separating out my para-self from my normal self, I guess it meant I 'passed'. It was a weird feeling.

"Anyway," I said, "This year wasn't all bad, let's make sure next year is better."

"I'll drink to that," Ayesha said, raising a toast.

The night thumped on toward midnight. There was a splash of bodies slipping into the heated jacuzzi, laughter winding its way through the music. Last I saw of Ayesha she had Malcolm's tongue in her mouth all pressed up on the couch, while Hunter peeled off to hang out with the nerds, make sure they were comfortable.

Me, I stood in the kitchen eating pizza, listening to Daphne go on about nothing with one of her girlfriends.

It was a good night so far. It didn't make me forget about tomorrow though.

>look for Kay for a private talk
>just enjoy the vibe of the party
>cut loose, I might die tomorrow

>>4757331
>look for Kay for a private talk
>Then let our other friends know before we go home
If we go down, our face and they're narrative will be out there first thing.

>>4757331
>just enjoy the vibe of the party

I would much prefer a victory AFTER party with our other friends

>>4757331
>look for Kay for a private talk
Wouldn't be right to just tell Ivy. And it's time to see her reaction to us prepping to die.

>>4757331
>look for Kay for a private talk

>>4757331
>look for Kay for a private talk

>>4757336
I don't think telling anyone other than Kay is a good idea. Honestly I'm even worried about telling Kay, she might be desperate enough to stop tomorrow from happening that she could do something dumb

>>4757424
Well, we'll find out.

>>4757331
>just enjoy the vibe of the party

>>4757390
>>4757369
>>4757344
>>4757336
locked in

sorry got caught up with something

still catching up with something!

got a really long, rambling call from a family member

finally wrapped that up

you ever get into one of those calls where they don't know when to stop talking?

either way back to it

>>4757609
It's the worst when you make it clear that you're trying to escape the conversation without being impolite and they just keep goin

I went looking for Kay and found her talking with Peyton, the two cheerleaders talking about something or other. I wasn't really listening, my focus was more on talking to her. She needed to know about tomorrow. I needed her to know about tomorrow.

Swallowing down the last of the beer, I took her by the arm.

"I need to talk to you," I said loud enough to be heard over the music.

"Talk?" she called back. I nodded. She waved goodbye to Peyton, following me upstairs.

We went to Nasim's room, passing a couple making out on the stairs. It was unoccupied, her skateboards hung up on the wall, sneaker collection arranged underneath it.

Kay moved to the bed with an excited little smile. "I wasn't expecting this until midnight," she said, running her hands over the quilt. The music thumped under our feet.

"It's not about that," I said, though her legs were inviting under her skirt, and the half light off her cheek and along her neck painted her in light and shadow, deepening her smile to something mature and alluring. "It's uh, it's Hotspur shit," I said.

"Yeah, what kind of shit?" she said, leaning forward.

I coughed into my hand. "I've got a thing tomorrow," I said, "A big thing, a dangerous thing."

"Yeah?" she said, blinking up at me with those large green eyes.

"A fight," I said, "Only a real fight, you know."

"No," she said, frowning, "How is it different from the other stuff?"

"It's bigger, I guess," I said, "It's...it'll change things, I think."

"Change, how?" she said, "I don't understand Eric."

"I know," I said, "I don't talk to you about this stuff very often, uh. So I think maybe I should because...because I'm scared, Kay. About what could happen tomorrow. About me getting killed, or my friends."

"Oh well that's easy then, don't go," she said with a smile, "You don't have to do this stuff. You can take off the mask whenever, right?"

My fist tightened. "It isn't just about me, Kay," I said, "I have friends who...Misfit and Thunderchild are both being framed and these are the guys..."

"Thunderchild, the bank robber?" she said, "And Misfit, she's the murderer right?"

"They're innocent," I said, "Framed."

"I mean yeah, that sucks," she said, "And you should help them but....but they aren't like you, Eric. You're different."

"How?" I said, "How am I different? I'm a para-freak just like them, and they'll do the same to me if they can."

"But no one knows," she said, "You can pass for normal. You're only Hotspur because you want to be, you can stop whenever you want."

"I mean, like, you've done enough right?" she said, "And if you're scared about what's happening tomorrow, you can just sit this one out."

"What?" I said. She blinked again. "No, I...this was my plan, I can't back out. I don't want to back out. I just want you to know what's going down and I want you to know that I...I'm scared, Kay. I'm always scared, but now."

"Jesus Kay, I might die tomorrow."

Her brow creased in concern. "Come on Eric, you're scaring me now," she said, "Why not just...not worry about it? Come on."

"I'm trying," I said, "I'm trying but I just...I can't stop thinking about Dad...about Mom. About you, and everyone else. About my friends. I could be getting them all killed, Kaylee. For sticking my nose where it didn't belong, for trying to play hero."

"You are a hero," she said, her face creasing deeper, her eyes growing wet, "C-come on Eric. This isn't like you."

"No," I said, "No, this is exactly like me, I just don't tell you, I don't tell anyone. The constant fear. I'm scared I'm running toward a cliff I can't see and I'll get you killed like I got Shelley killed or those people I couldn't save from Ooze or everyone else and I-I-I don't know how to stop. Even if you did I don't know if I can stop, I don't even know why I started I just...."

"Shit!"

I was on my knees and hit the ground. The music down stairs skipped as the house shook on its foundations, my knuckle imprint left in the floorboard, glowing white. Someone downstairs yelled out.

Up on the bed Kay had retreated to the corner, eyes shining with tears and fear.

I didn't mean to scare her.

"Are you...okay?" I asked.

She sniffed, wiping her eyes. "Why are you asking me that? I should be asking you," she said, "What's wrong, Eric? Why are you yelling at me?"

"I'm not yelling at you, I'm just yelling," I said.

"Well I don't like it," she said.

I looked up at her and her tear stained face. Maybe this wasn't fair, maybe I shouldn't burden her with it.

And if she did know, what would it change?

>tell her everything
>keep it to myself

>>4757673
>keep it to myself

Kay once again proving herself to be worst girl

>>4757682
Also we should talk to Misfit about this. We've done so before and she understands this life better than most

>>4757673
>keep it to myself
She doesn't get it at all

>>4757673
>keep it to myself

what else would we be telling her if we voted to do so? I feel like we already sorts spilled the beans about tomorrow

>>4757744
everything with Houndmaster and all the other blood, guts and misery Eric has seen.

>>4757673
>keep it to myself
Kay wouldn't get it, all the terrible shit we've seen, the lines we've crossed and the ones we thought about crossing. She's a normal girl who wants a normal life, with a normal boyfriend who just plays hero on the side. She thinks Hotspur is just a thing we do instead of a part of who we are.

>>4757750
>>4757713
>>4757703
>>4757682
locked in

We need to sit alone and center ourselves before the big fight. Clearly Eric is freaking the fuck out and support from others is nice and all but some of that support has to come from himself as well.

I looked at her scared in the corner of the bed.

And I locked that part of me up.

She wasn't ready for the truth. Maybe she never would be.

"I'm sorry," I said, "I shouldn't have yelled at you."

"It's okay," she said, "I get it. Why don't we go back downstairs and join the party?"

I nodded. Yeah, maybe we should.

Back downstairs the clock said 11:30 and everyone was getting ready for the ball to drop.

Ivy had shown up, come in while we'd been upstairs, still wearing her work clothes under her purple jacket. She caught my eye and smiled.

I opened my mouth to say something, but before I could Nasim was in front of me with a cup of pop.

"What were you doing in my room?" she said, scowling under her hijab.

"Nothing," I said. She tapped her foot like she didn't believe me. When I looked up Ivy was talking to our friends, Dane, Ayesha, Zeke, nodding along to something they said.

I looked down to Kay, holding my hand, holding her hand, her attention fixed on nothing but looking awkward, uncomfortable.

The clock was ticking to the new year.

You had to kiss someone at midnight, right?

I looked at Kay and felt the unspoken words churning inside me, the fear and the horror she didn't want to know. People cheered around us, laughing, talking loud over the thumping stereo.

The clock ticked over. 11:45.

The glow of the light seemed brither, the smells sharper, the sounds stronger on my ear drums.

11:55.

>Kiss Kay
>Kiss Ivy
>Walk away

I'll be back tomorrow

>>4757764
>Walk away

>>4757764
>Walk away
I'm kinda scared Kay will snitch about our identity, but we need to find a way to end this relationship as amicably as we can. This doesn't seem too bad.

>>4757764
>Walk away

>>4757764
>Walk away

>>4757798
Considering the shitshow getting ready to come tomorrow, she'll see one way or the other there isn't just a, walk away option.

>>4757764
>Walk away.
Shark was right in the end.

>>4757764
>Walk away

>>4757798
Support

We're only 15, changing girlfriends isn't the end of the world.

Also, thanks for the new thread QM, would have participated earlier but I've always get lock out with my ip

>>4757764
>Walk away
NO WAY FAG

locking that in

Between Kay and Ivy I looked outside. The house was packed with people around the tv, around their phones, waiting for the ball to drop, ready to cheer and celebrate the new year.

I slid out to the back porch, wanting to be away from the hot press and blanket of sound. Wanting to be alone, wanting to be cold.

The midnight sky, bright with stars and the silver grin of the moon. Mist wisped from my lips as I looked up. Looking at the stars, I thought about Mom. I always did. I thought about home, and shivering in the backyard as she played with her brass telescope, teaching me the constellations, wondering at the vastness of the cosmos.

I found the North Star, Polaris. Mom's voice drifted through my memory.

'The North Star, navigators have relied on it since ancient times. Even though its always moving, traveling light years at a time in the cosmos, to us it remains fixed in place. If you're ever lost, Eric, you can always look to the North Star to find your way.'

If ever I felt lost it was right now, as the countdown began to the new year.

"Five! Four! Three!"

The star shone down, one among billions, shining that little bit brighter than the rest. How many centuries of travel was it away from us? Was there another planet there, with another boy looking up, looking for answers from our star bright in their own night sky? Or was it dead, a zombie light still shining from an ancient corpse?

"Two! One!"

Were any of those stars still living, or were they celestial ghosts, calling out across time and space?

"Happy New Year!"

But it was just a star, it had nothing to say, and soon it disappeared as fireworks open across the night with distant pops, bright flowers of red, green and blue spreading out over the darkness and swallowing up the starlight. A cheer rose up behind me, music pumping up again as the party returned to full swing.

I didn't need the North Star for guidance. I needed Mom. I needed her to help me figure out what I was feeling and what to do. But she was gone, like those stars above. The light still there but the star itself gone, just a memory, an imprint on the sky.

"Hey."

I checked over my shoulder. Ayesha checked her glasses, smiling.

"You okay?" she said, "I saw you slip out."

I didn't answer right away. I looked back out over Kemal's backyard.

"I'm fine," I said.

She came up next to me, leaned on the railing.

"Do you want to know when I realized you were cool?" she said.

"I'm not cool," I said.

"It's not the sport stuff. I know plenty of jocks and they mostly suck. It wasn't even the thing with the Creep. No, I knew you were cool when you auditioned for the musical and bombed," she said, "Like, you had no business even trying out you were so bad, but you did it anyway. You gave it a shot."

"I'm not looking for a pep talk," I said, "I just want to be alone. Is that cool?"

"Sorry," she said, "Yeah, I can be a bit nosey. I guess I just...saw you looking lonely in a crowd, lonely with your friends, and I wanted to let you know."

"Know what, that you think I'm cool?" it came out harsher than I meant it.

"That I see you, Eric," she said, and put her hand on my back, "And you don't need to talk or tell me how you feel, but if you ever want to be alone with company, well..." she stopped talking to demonstrate, looking up at the fire works, red light washing over her brown cheeks as her smile faded into something melancholic.

And we stood quietly in the start of the new year, watching the fire works fade against the vast darkness of the night, as the party continued behind us.

New Year's Day.

Indiana Harbor.

East Chicago.

I showed up early. Whatever riot of emotion I'd been going through the past few days had settled to a deadly stillness, kept banked by the power pulsing through me. Now my nerves were cold, all the troubles of yesterday left behind me. Cold as the fangs of ice jutting up on the Chicago shoreline from the waters of Lake Michigan.

I waited, watching the half frozen waterline, watching the waters churn around the ice fangs rising out against the bank. The stone weighed in my breast pocket.

Today we were going to settle a few scores. Or maybe start a few new ones.

A motorbike revved in the distance. I didn't need to check to know it was Misfit.

"Chilaquiles," she said to the guy riding behind her. Thunderchild. "If a Mexican joint can't pull off chilaquiles, its trash."

"See I was thinking nachos," he said.

"Chilaquiles is like nachos but even more basic," she said, "It's like, would you go to a burger joint that can't put together a decent cheeseburger?"

"I feel you," he said.

The kind of nonsense conversation to hide their own nerves. Misfit slung off her bike, raising a hand up to me, perched on a water cooling tower. She wore her grinning skull mask, her cherry red wrench holstered at her hip. Thunderchild had evened out his stubbled hair, found a better fit of clothes. I dropped from the water tower to join them, landing in a crouch.

"Happy New Year," Misfit said, punching my arm, "You ready to start some shit?"

"I'm ready," I said.

A car came down, driving slow. When it slowed to a stop Grit stepped out. He wore a red bandanna low on his eyes and the same fleeced lined coat. He didn't especially care about hiding his identity.

"So here we are," he said. We clasped hands at the wrist, he did the same for Thunderchild then Misfit. "This your band of brothers? We ain't the Avengers."

"Waiting on a couple more people," I said.

"Who?" Pratfall said behind me. I jumped with a sharp 'shit!' She smiled. "Me?"

I don't know when she turned up, but she was there in her red and black tights, her jester's crown jingling. She sprung a one handed hand-stand.

"Today shall be a day to live in infam-," she started to say, but then lost her balance, landing hard on her head, sprawling out among us, "Ow!" She sat up, bells jingling, shaking her head. She grinned blood stained teeth, a trickle of red running down her white face paint. "Alas, alay, I've already fallen this day! Sing sweetly at my funeral, fair friends, and remember me!"

Grit looked from her to me, his expression flat but a mild annoyance in his eyes. "Who the fuck is this?" he said.

"You'll learn to filter her out," I said, as she sprung a handstand into a backflip, landing on her feet with a bow. Misfit clapped. Thunderchild swiped at her clapping hands with a discouraging frown. Don't encourage the jester.

"So we got a play?" Misfit said, "Or do we just wait for the fuckers to show up and start swinging?"

She looked to me, they all did. Pratfall with bright eyes, Grit with crossed arms and a frown, Thunderchild eager and intent. Misfift waited coolly, we'd been through something like this before together.

>I figure we'd just improv, play it by ear
>write-in a plan of action

(now is the time to figure out a plan if you want. if its a good one, it will affect bonuses. I'll leave the vote open longer to give you guys time.)

>>4759487
>Jester and Grit ride together, presuming we don't have a Satalite aimed at us right now, nobody should know we are together. Baring our late arivals we add more or less to your group as needed, and you'll be the Calvery.
>They know me, Thunderchild, and Misfit are together, so me and him will be in the open while Misfit keeps a flare ready to distract them.
>Everyone remember a route through any and every gang infested area you can handle hiding out in to throw off the scent of any worms they sent out. Caught two in my bed the day after and got lucky, so if we gotta run, we drag them through whatever shit we can to get away.
>If anyone has any ideas to add, throw them up.
All I can come up with

>>4759487
Start off with senses at maximum from a hidden vantage point to get an idea of where the battle lines will be drawn and where the biggest threats are.

Fight as a unit by default, splitting up if necessary with Thunderchild transporting paras where they're needed, or out of the battle if they're badly wounded. We'll stay more mobile and jump in to assist as needed, taking out enemy paras and heavy hitters whenever possible. Grit can use his power to raise walls, giving us cover and controlling which of the different groups are fighting which.

Weren't we gonna hit up shark? I was gonna see if he could create a massive tidal wave at a pivotal moment in the fight.

Make sure everyone is aware of Salamander, Sundowner, Hound master, and Semper Fi's powers.

>>4759487
>First thing first the stone, and of course decoys, if Grit can at least make them look similar. They won't stand up to any professional scrutiny but in the chaos to follow I don't think it'll matter
>Speaking of Grit he and Pratfall can hide underground until things pop off
>I think that pratfall and TC should be in charge of making sure the stone leaves with us, or hell if shark shows up, give it to him discreetly
>Meanwhile we'll be front and center with our known associates Misfit and TC
>The main idea is wait, or stall until someone volatile i.e. salamander shows up and egg her on until she blows
>After that we get the hell out through the underground, head to the liquor store and have pint waiting for this to all blow over.
>secondary obj make sure blood worm bitch can't track us anymore

>>4759546
I think we should always have the stone on our person

it would be a good idea for you guys to try and bring your ideas together into a single option, so I know what to write

>>4759647
This might be a situation where you have to take what makes sense from each option as best you can

>>4759647
Ok so we have
>>4759519
>>4759546
>Keeping Grit and Prat hidden until the fighting starts, and the rest of us front and center.

>>4759533
>TC teleporting our team during the fight is pretty good. We should go with that.
>Grit walling off areas is a given

>>4759519
>As are Misfit's flares

>>4759546
>And as many convincing decoys as possible

Everything else should be dealt with as it happens

Then on getting out we have
A.>>4759519
>Go into hiding in a ghetto
B.>>4759546
>Go into hiding underground

Either way I really think we have to deal with the blood worms permanently in this fight.

This is an ok mash up of what we have so far.

I think.

>>4759647
Change my vote>>4759519
so that its the same plus what ever everyone else adds too it>>4759533
>>4759546
>>4759611
I got work in the morning, just do the common sense thing and run it together with parts that make sense. Good night ya'll, don't be pedantic about the write in votes not being one thing for no reason.

>>4759741
Oh and
>A or B escape plans
We do both or neither depending on who is still conscious enough to escape and guide they're respective groups.

okay, locking in the plan

"I got an idea," I said, "But first I've got to ask, Grit, can you make doubles of this?"

I pulled out the stone and held it out for him.

"Ooh!" Pratfall said, tilting her head from side to side, "What is it?"

"A whole lot of bad news," Misfit said, "Me and Spur tore up a highway to keep the bad guys from getting it. Now they want it back."

Grit spun the stone around in his hand, frowning. Then he tapped the ground, a thin column of cement rising up. He handed it back, cracked his knuckles, then slid his fingers into the column. Eyes closed to concentrate, he pulled his hands out, with three discs nearly identical to the stone.

"Give me time I could have done some polish," he said, "But they should do."

I took them off him. Same weight, same size, but the duplicates had rougher surfaces. It would pass though. I hoped.

"They'll be coming heavy," I said, "We need an escape plan. You think you can make a tunnel or something?"

Grit shrugged. "Yeah maybe," he said, "If we got to book I can make an exit. But I'm not a machine remember, I can run out of gas."

"Well keep an idea of how to get out of there if things go south, but either way I want you and Pratfall out of sight until the fighting starts. Your main job will be making sure we don't get shot to death, walls and cover. Fuck anyone up as well."

He thumbed his nose, then frowned at Pratfall. "We'll await your orders with baited breath!" she said with a perky salute, "Let your word be the trumpet sound to battle!" His frown deepened.

"Misfit, I need you waiting in the wings too. Cook up a big bang for the party."

"Shit yeah, I'll light up their fuckin' night," she said.

"Thunderchild, you'll be with me," I said, "They'll be expecting us, but be ready to port where you're needed."

"Can do," he said.

"And you guys be careful. They'll have their own freaks, with plenty of guns behind them. Keep an eye out for Salamander, she's a crazy chick with the Outfit with fire powers and a mean kick. There might be a guy called Sundowner too, he-"

"I met Sundowner," Grit said, "He muscles for the Triads sometimes, makes these copies of himself, illusions."

"Yeah," I said, "Then there might be a messed up cat called Houndmaster. No powers but he's a psycho. And if they're bringing the big guns we might have to deal with Semper Fi. I fought her once and believe me, she can tie you in a knot."

"Figured her for a jackboot," Misfit said.

"Scab's the one you need to really be careful around," Thunderchild said, "Her tracking worms aren't all she can do. She's got mind worms too, latch on to the back of your head, turns you into her puppet. Hurts like fucking hell too." He touched the back of his neck, covering a lump of scar tissue I hadn't noticed before, wincing.

Shit, didn't know about those.

"And yet there might be dragons more," Pratfall said, "Who can say what tricks are waiting up their voluminous sleeves?"

"That your word of the day?" Misfit said.

"Can't plan for what we don't know," I said, "Stay loose, guys, be ready to think on your feet."

"We got you," Misfit said.

"Okay," I put my hand in like this was my team before a game, "What time is it?" I asked, their hands joining mine.

"11:30 I think," Pratfall said.

"11:28 but my phone could be wrong," Grit said, checking the time.

I sighed. "No guys, its...its game time."

Realization dawned in their eyes. "Oh," Thunderchild said, "Yeah yeah yeah, okay, game time."

Great.

Now all that was left was the action.

"Okay," I said, "Let's rock."

The meeting place was out by the water, open-ish ground. Where ever my friends had pocketed themselves I hope they hid themselves well. Thunderchild stood next to me, his coat whipping around his legs in the strong winter breeze.

There was a warehouse in spitting distance, a place to dip to when things got sour.

I planned to make this as sour as possible.

We heard them before we saw them, the whoop of helicopter blades, three black spots on an open blue sky, coming in right when they said. And they weren't the only ones. Cars, more than should be in this area. A lot of cars coming in, parking sharp. Then over that the rev of engines, motorbikes, a lot of them, white shells gleaming in the sunlight.

Baby girl and Sullivan had done their job, they'd got the word out.

Italians in track suits. Mexicans in silk shirts. Bikers in motorcycle leather. And the helicopters, growing larger, starting to circle above.

High noon.

Frankie the Nose wore a pinstripe suit with a fedora pulled low, a red rose in his lapel. Salamander stood behind him in suspenders and pin-stripe slacks, the sleeves of her shirt rolled up, hair shaved fresh at the sides. Frankie snarled, Salamander grinned.

I didn't recognize Navaja at first. She wore a nun's habit, her face painted like a sugar skull, wide white eyes rimmed in black. It was too real to be a Halloween costume, the fabric too thick. A plain silver cross hung from her neck. Beside her Sundowner smiled an awkward, bulging eyed smile, Billy Lonegran on the other side looking scared. Her men came heavy, more than a few had AKs dressed up with nickle plating.

The Stunt Crew MC buzzed in to a stop. An old man I didn't know pulled off his white helmet, squinting into the sun. He was Latino, age turning his dark skin yellow. Sullivan was on his right, Baby Girl on his left, her sword close to hand. Guns, knives, pipes, a feral group ready to throw in.

Then I was almost knocked back as a helicopter dropped to hover above the frozen shore, the force of its propellers rippling through the assembled gangs.

Scab stepped down, foot clicking on the ground. She wore a black suit and red tie, sunglasses, stray hairs from her dark bun whipping over her face. Behind her stepped down the kind of special forces jagoffs we'd tussled with in their little black ops fortress. Next to the heavy soldiers she was almost petite. She kept a neutral expression, looking over the arrayed gangs.

High Noon.

And with me in the middle.

"So," Scab said, standing before the military chopper, "This wasn't the deal."

A heavy gun dipped and fell in the carriage of the chopper behind her. Heavy fucking gear.

Fire inside me kept my legs from trembling.

I forced myself to grin, though she couldn't see it under my mask maybe she'd hear it in my voice. "I only said I'd bring the stone," I said, "Never said I'd make it easy for you."

"Commander Xenia, we have a bead on Hotspur," the lead soldier said, his rifle raised up.

Scab raised a hand, turning her head to the arrayed gangsters. "Easy Lt Grove," she said. She stepped forward. "Did you kill my blood worms?" she asked.

I nodded.

A slight tick in her cheek was her only expression. "And you stole my favorite playmate. Hello Shabaz, good to see you."

"Fuck you Scab," he said.

"I don't know what you hope to achieve here," she said, "But Dr Auken expects me to return with the stone."

I pulled it out of my pocket. "You mean this one?" I said, "Or this one?"

I pulled one of the fakes out of another pocket. Thunderchild smiled and pulled out another fake. I couldn't see her eyes through the sunglasses, but new a glare was hiding behind them.

"Well if you're going to get it," I said, starting to back away toward the gathered gangs. Then I turned around, holding it up. I could see the hunger on their faces, the pent up violence waiting for a trigger to unleash. The wind of the helicopter blew a gale through us, chilling even a winter day. "If any of you want it, come and get it! It's up for grabs!"

I threw the stones up into the air.

"Now!" Xenia barked.

And then the shooting started.

>roll 3 x 1d100+25 dc 80

let's go

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Fnt307dw4k

Rolled 100 + 25 (1d100 + 25)

>>4759820
let's fucking gooooo

Rolled 10 + 25 (1d100 + 25)

>>4759820
Fingers crossed

>>4759829
.....

>>4759829
holy shit
of all the times to crit

>>4759829
YOOOOOOOOOOOOO

>>4759830
Ignore that

crit successes trump crit fails too

local superhero is fucking invincible

Rolled 75 (1d100)

>>4759820
Rolling for the fun of it

sorry, I'm trying to plot this out around the crit-success

crit-successes do more than just have Eric succeed

so this is going to be a minute

>>4759829
LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOO

>>4759829
Fuck yes
We're gonna live forever!

The barrel of the heavy gun rose on the helicopter, putting the fear of god in me. The fears I'd been holding in crashing out of where they'd been kept.

Faces flashed before my eyes.

My friends, my family. Everyone I loved. Dad. Mom.

The gunner slid back the bolt, the grin under his reflective lenses telling me all I needed to know as he found me in his sites.

Fire flooded through me. The pulsing hot flame, a torrent pounding through my body, blinding white. I touched the edge of something I'd last felt on the roof tops of downtown Chicago, battling Houndmaster and his drones. I took a step forward.

Thunderchild grabbed me as the gun ripped open. The world sucked in around us, then exploded outward in an earth shaking boom as we appeared overhead. The machine gun roared, tearing up cement chunks from the dockside quay.

We floated in the air for a held moment as chaos broke out beneath us. Outfit goons and cartel thugs exchanged fire with each other and the special ops team. The other two helicopters circled overhead, looking for a place to intrude. Gunfire swallowed angry shouts, with the rev of engines over it all as the Stunt Crew MC threw in. Sundowner split into triplets, a shimmer in each duplicate as they began to split away. Baby Girl's sword gleamed as it slid from its scabbard. Fire began to envelop Salamander's hands.

All for the scattered stones across the dockside.

Except for the one still in my breast pocket, glowing white hot against my chest.

I could feel it, a beat inside it, beating in time to my own. Not to my heart beat but to the drumming beat of my power galloping through my veins.

And as it did the fire in my mind took hold, a blinding white inferno.

The world beneath us slowed to a crawl, the guns raised, the words half shouted. Thunderchild drifted down beside me, his coat rippling back with a languid, unnatural slowness, his eyes wide and a word half said forming on his lips, the vowel long escaping from his throat.

Under us the ground shook, stone walls rising from the ground as hot flares of light bloomed in the chaos. Misfit rode out from the warehouse, front wheel of her motorcycle raised, fingers slowly clicking in front of her with points of light beginning to flare from pinpricks around her fingers. Pratfall tumbling beside Grit with a cheshire cat grin, Grit swinging his stone hammer in both hands, shouting a wordless battlecry.

I saw the helicopter suspended above the waters, the haevy gun chewing up the earth, Scab adjusting her red tie before it.

And I moved. A meteor blazing, kicking off from Thunderchild's momentum.

Steel crashed around me screaming as I shot through the helicopter, then the hard stinging slap as I shot through the thin icy crust on the waters. It closed in around me, closing me into an icy darkness, as above my head an explosion boomed. And with the slap of ice water the world sped up once more.

Helicopter parts shot through the dark water around me, with the dark clad shapes of men.

I blew out the air in my lungs as I kicked for the surface, and burst up, out, gasping. I slithered up onto the wet dock, flame licked metal scattered across it.

Scab's glasses had come askew. She stared at me with one bared eye. Then the flesh on her hand opened up, and a long slug slid out.

It wasn't a blood worm. It was wet and glistened, its back ridged as if with steel plates. She whipped it over head, then lashed it down at me.

I bent back, feeling the rush of it swing by, then bent forward on its return, boxing training heightened by the terrifying power taking hold of me. The stink wafting off her, acid and rot. The worm-whip sliced for my head and I ducked under it. It struck Lt Grove instead, sliced through his shoulder into his chest. It caught on his rib cage. He spat up blood, moaning in horror hands shaking at his body split open.

Scab frowned, then with a jerk of her arm ripped the steel worm through the rest of him, slicing him in half. What slopped out at the feet of his comrades had them scatter back swearing. Scab kept her attention on me.

I danced around her whip, stepping in, closing her reach. Then, when I was near, I caught the base length of her steel worm, the length of it whipping around my arm, cutting in with a stinging bite.

"No," she gasped as I pulled her forward. I grabbed her wrist. She punched at my head with her free hand. Then with a grip on her worm and a grip on the hand it grew from, I pulled.

The scream of agony from her throat as I ripped it out of her body caused a second's pause in the fight. It ripped out with a spray of blood and ichor, the worm limp in my grip. She shuddered, color gone from her face, vomit welling in the back of her mouth. I kicked her away, tossing the dead worm to the ground, crushing it under my boot heel. She clutched her arm to her side, moaning, unable to get her feet under her.

I stalked toward her.

"Take a message to your masters," I said, kicking her over, "Chicago is under my protection. No more blood worms. If I see one, if I even think there's one, I'll come back to your hole in the ground, and this time I won't leave until the job is done. Understand?"

I looked down on her, this creature who had turned her gift to wicked use.

On her knees she nodded, tears and snot streaming down her face, wounded arm shaking under her.

She was done.

But the fight wasn't over.

A jaw distended against the blow of Grit's hammer, then an arm, then a leg. It seemed to have no weight in his hands until it met a target, with nasty results. Until it swung, and shattered on Salamander's returning punch. Cement dust coated his face, then blood when Salamander's fist took him in the nose, staggering him back. She sliced an axe kick down on his head. He stomped the ground, a pillar rising to intercept, but her foot smashed through it with a gust of flames. A vicious smile chased him back.

Thunderchild grabbed him by the fleece collar and Salamander's fist drove through nothing, flames bursting around her arm as the boomed rolled over her. They reappeared among the cartel thugs, Grit snorting out blood before stomping up another hammer, swinging it along the ground to swirl up a ring of stone fangs, driving up into the cartel gun-thugs, bullets cracking off the cement now covering him.

A melee swirled around the fake stones, a fake Sundowner cut down by Baby Girl's sword. She ducked the bullet of the real one, rolling low to thrust her blade through a cartel chest, Sundowner himself dipping back before splitting in three, then four, then five, bullets coming from all around.

I looked for Pratfall.

Stunt Crew MC Had her in a circle, kicking her one way, punching her the other, sending her spiralling and flopping around, the bells on her crown jingling. She was a ragdoll in the grips of a shark. I moved for her as Thunderchild appeared, but when he grabbed her she pushed him off with a mean little smile.

"Now for my jape to play," she said through bloody teeth, and sucked in a breath, beinging her hands together in a loud clap.

The kinetic shockwave burst over the dock. Stunt Crew were flung away, bouncing off hard stone the way a body shouldn't. It stopped me dead, braced against the impact, almost bowling me off my feet too.

She bounded with a laugh, her stinging slap on a Stunt Crew cheek hitting harder than Grit's hammer. A childish stomp on a man's toe crushed his foot inside his leather boots. She back flipped away from a swung pipe then flipped back forward, kicking him in the chest with both feet and firing him through the battle to smash through distant Lake Michigan ice.

"Remind me not to fuck with Pratfall!" Grit yelled, swing his way toward me.

There were gangsters around us, and still two helicopters up overhead, circling, military vultures waiting to pick over the carcass of the battle.

I pointed to one and Grit nodded. Stomping the ground he grew a pillar, then with his hammer swatted chunks of stone toward them. It caught the rear propeller, smashing it off, then the next cut through its tail, and the chopper began to spiral.

"Misfit!" I yelled, pointing at the last one.

She nodded, rubbing her hands together, a light bomb growing between her palms. Thunderchild grabbed her by the collar and in a boom they were gone. I scanned for them in the sky, and caught sight of the bright orb just as it hit the front of the last chopper.

A blinding flash lit up the sky, so loud it swallowed all other sound, light so bright I tucked my head even with my goggles. Then, with an awful drum roll, sound returned with sight, and there was nothing left of the chopper but falling parts.

Fuck. She really could do some damage if she wanted to.

Gun fire burst around my shoulders.

One of the black ops soldiers held a gun in a single fist, barrel unsteady but thrust toward me, water pouring off him. The gunner from the chopper, he sneered as he shook.

"Para-freak," he snarled. I tensed, ready to move.

A spray of water was his only warning, then a strangled shout silenced by crushing jaws closing around his head.

Shark reared up, the head going with him as the body dropped the other way. He grabbed a fleeing soldier, and as the man screamed casually tore him in half.

"Fire-bearer," he said, gore staining his teeth, "Evil's scent drew me here."

"What the fuck is that?" Grit yelled pointing with his hammer, ready to start swinging.

"An ally," I said, pushing his hammer down.

I looked back over the roaring battle, the chaos, the death. Navaja in her nun's habit, directing her men's fire. Frankie the Nose hiding behind a car while a bodyguard fired over the hood. The old man clutched in Sullivan's lap, gasping for air over a bloody white jacket, tears in Sullivan's eyes as he cradled him.

There was still plenty of fighting left. The stone burned hot against my chest, throbbing in time with my own hot thoughts, a war drum calling me to fight.

>we've won, let's get out of here
>the battle isn't over, let's finish this

back tomorrow

>>4759998
>the battle isn't over, let's finish this
With new heights come new enemies. Let them know the name: Hotspur

>>4759998
Damn, we just human missile'd a helicopter. Did we ever give Grant a heads up about this crazy ass plan? Was she going to try to make any arrests?

>>4759998
>the battle isn't over, let's finish this

Navaja seem a bit untouched, salamander could be taken down a peg or two. The choppers could still be a problem

>>4759998
>we've won, let's get out of here
We've had no para casualties and our message has been heard loud and clear. Let the gangs keep going at it if they want. We can't exactly take anyone prisoner, and even if we did they'd just be replaced. I double checked the last thread and Ms. Grant doesn't know shit about this operation.

>>4759998
>we've won, let's get out of here

>>4759829
Jesus tap-dancing Christ to crit where it was needed most

>>4759998
>the battle isn't over, let's finish this

>>4759998
>>the battle isn't over, let's finish this

>>4759998
>We won, let's skedaddle

>>4759998
>the battle isn't over, let's finish this

I've been trying to shake this cold all day but its just getting worse, so no game today.

I'll hopefully be well enough tomorrow

File: Funny Egypt Mom.jpg (122 KB, 750x789)

122 KB JPG

>>4761495
Get well soon then. Have some funny Egypt mom.

>>4761495
Take all the time you need

>>4761471
>>4760551
>>4760097
>>4760013
>>4760006
locked in

"We should book," Thunderchild said, taking a knee.

They were tired. Grit panted, his chin covered in a crust of blood, Pratfall nursed a swelling black eye, Misfit breathed hard. Only Shark, newly arrived, was still fresh.

But the fighting wasn't over.

"No," I said. There were too many cartel gun-thugs still standing for my taste.

Clusters of fighting litered the dockyard. Cartel and Outfit goons exchanging gunfire from behind the cover of their cars, Salamander brawling with Stunt Crew soldiers, and still a fight over the fake stones.

Sundowner picked one up, the stone crumbling in his hands, and threw away the rest as crumbling dust. Baby Girl ran up on him, sword low at her side, and when she sliced he ducked his head, dividing into two, one of him lunging left, the other right. Baby Gurl turned and cut down the fake Sundowner, the one left now running for Cartel safety, splitting into two, then three, then five, gun shots slicing through a fake.

"The fight isn't over," I said.

The hot stone burned against my chest. I looked out over the battlefield, seeing with different eyes. A dark mist choked this place, swarmed it with growing, lashing limbs with every scream of pain or dying gasp. It grew from the criminals as they brawled, pulsing, feeding on the hatred, the terror, the violence. Silver light speckled in the darkness, fading in the black mist.

I stepped forward, the icy lake behind me.

When I did the attention of a gun turned my way. The rifle roared, the bullet meant for me. It cut through the air but seemed slow, slow enough I ducked aside. Behind me Grit raised a concrete wall, the bullet puffing against the cement. I strode toward the cartel, and their guns turned from Outfit muscle toward me.

A spray of bullets but my eyes were wide, body jolting with the blissful fire roaring through me. I ducked under, stepped around, weaving through it. Knowing where the deadly flecks of metal would be, knowing where not to be by unnatural instinct. I weaved through the hail. A puff at my sleeve saw a bullet clip my suit, another through the leg of my pants, but my flesh was untouched.

I closed in on frightened men frustrated with their guns as they tried to reload, Navaja behind them, hissing in her face paint.

The words tumbling from her lips weren't English. I didn't understand Spanish.

But somehow I knew what she was saying.

"Kill him, shoot straight you idiots. Give me the gun."

She snatched a nickle plated AK from a fumbling Billy Lonegran, cleared the empty magazine, slammed in a new one, drew back the bolt and brought the barrel down. Right against my chest.

Hesitation, the moment of doubt to cross her face, was the time I needed to knock the barrel aside. Muzzle flash and the barrel bucked in my fist as it spewed bullets into her own men, then I squeeze. Metal groaned as the barrel twisted in my fist. I yanked it from her hand, tossing it over my shoulder.

"You are a dead man, Hotspur," she said, "The Lady of Death is smiling on you."

There were serpents in her words. I don't know why I thought that.

One of her men came for me with a knife, one of those broad, inward curving knives, screaming loud.

A single fist drove him into a car door, denting it. He collapsed with a moan.

I looked back to their boss. Her smile was a cat's hiss, a knife of her own in her hand, blade flicking out from a horn handle. She sliced for my throat. I dipped back. She sliced for my eyes. I grabbed her wrist. I drove a fist down on her cheek just as someone leapt on my back, trying to lock me into a chokehold. Navaja crumpled as I staggered back.

Billy Lonegran wheezed into my ear as he tried to lock a beefy arm around my neck.

"Motherfucker," he panted, "This is all your fucking fault. You did this. Broke up the crew."

I bent forward, grabbing his arm, and then with a surge of power flipped over, landing hard on my back, slamming Billy into the cement. His grip loosened with a moan. I rolled off him, looked down. He was putrid, the silver light inside him weak, growing weaker. Weak from shame, hate, cowardice.

Contempt wrinkled my face.

"Hold yourself to account," I told him, "For your deeds, your words. It's your only hope. I'm just a messenger."

He tried to get up, then gave up.

Gun-thugs readied their weapons, then under them the earth rose, throwing them up in the explosion. Grit lowered his hand, sweating despite the cold. Explosions of white light opened over cars and motorbikes, busting the engines, sending them flipping over. But the next explosion was just sound and light, barely rocking a car on its carriage. Misfit lowered a slack arm.

They were getting tired.

My hearing, refined to an edge, heard the distant scream of police sirens. There was no way a battle like this would have gone unnoticed.

"Woop-woop, that's the sound of the beast!" Thunderchild said, grabbing me, "Now we do got to go."

We weren't the only ones quitting the field. Salamander pulled her men back, Frankie slung over her shoulder, while Cartel goons helped Navaja to her feet, blood running through her face paint. Sullivan slung his dead boss over the back of the bike, revving the engine.

Red and blue lights flashed, the scream of dozens of sirens. It must be every cop in East Chicago coming. The biggest gang in town.

I looked to my allies and flinched. They burned with silver light in the grasping dark mist. It hated them, flinching away, recoiling at the light.

"Come on, you there Spur?" Thunderchild said.

"I'm...yeah," I said. The fire in my mind made it hard to think. At least, to think outside the fight.

"We got to go," Thunderchild said, ushering everyone close.

Shark stepped back. "We part ways now fire-bearer," he said, "Good luck to you and your comrades."

Dumbly I nodded as Shark dove back for the water. The rest grabbed on to some part of Thunderchild's clothing, as Thunderchild grabbed on to me.

And then we were gone in a thunderclap.

Thunderchild's power had a limit, he could only teleport where he could see, so it took him three ports before we were clear of the battle. By the time we were he was shuddering with exhaustion. I wasn't much better.

I pulled down my face mask to vomit.

We were out in some lost part of south Chicago, in an empty park.

I emptied my guts onto the dead grass. The stone still burned hot against my chest.

Misfit let out a long, groaning 'fuuuuuck me' while Grit untied his bandanna to clean the blood off his face.

"So that went well!" Pratfall said with a bright smile, "A thrust at the heart of evil, a battle won, a song to sing!"

"If you start singing Imma drum your head off the ground," Grit said, spitting blood.

Pratfall fell into an olde timey boxing stance, bouncing from foot to foot.

"Ain't you sore?" Thunderchild said, "You took a whooping."

"My ribs do ache, but I find myself in good spirits," she said, "Why not? We've shown the villainy of Chicago our mettle, and I doubt they liked the taste."

I knelt in the grass, spitting up a little more. The glow in the stone began to fade, its heat retreating, and as it did so did the fire in my mind, leaving it a haze, and leaving me with a gut clenching hunger. I buckled over moaning, grabbing my stomach.

"You okay Spur?" Misfit said, arm around my shoulder. The smell of her invaded my nose, leather, motor oil and sweat.

I nodded. The haze in my mind was hard to talk through. "Hungry," I managed.

"Man, you're crazy," Grit said, "That was some wild shit back there."

"You sure you're okay?" Misfit said, "You don't seem okay."

I nodded again. "I'm...empty tank is all," I said. I had the shakes. My memory was getting fuzzy. It came in flits of images. Ripping the worm from Scab's arm, spearing the helicopter, fighting Navaja. But was that the way it happened? The frozen waters of Lake Michigan, dark bodies sinking around me. I looked to Misfit. Silver light danced in her eyes, but they faded to white spots until those spots were blinked away. Misfit rubbed my back.

Something did happen, something that had happened only once before. When I'd fought Houndmaster and his drones. And if it was the same as that I was in for a rough couple of days.

"I need a beer," Grit said.

"We should celebrate," Pratfall said, walking on her hands, "Victory! Good has triumphed, evil has been vanquished!" She balanced on one palm, wobbled, then collapsed. She rolled to sit upright with a grin.

"Beer," Grit said, lying back in the winter grass.

"What do you say to some chilaquiles?" Thunderchild said, "You know a good Mexican place, 'Fit?"

"Shit I can cook us up some if you want," she said, "What do you say, Spur. Victory party? I can whip us up a feast."

>after all that a feast sounds good
>I need to get home, get sleep

>>4763522
>after all that a feast sounds good

>>4763487
This is awesome.

>>4763522
We missed a party for this party. Let's rest and refule.
>after all that a feast sounds good

>>4763522
>after all that a feast sounds good
I think we've been holding on to the stone for too long

>>4763551
If its a buff or some kind of soulstone thing, we are probably the best bet for it.

>>4763522

>after all that a feast sounds good

Preferably somewhere private where we don't have to reveal ourselves to the public (or take off our mask, we fought with them but we need to get to know them better to reveal ourselves)

>>4763557
They fought a gang war with us, half of the gang already know, there is no reason not to let the mask down.

>>4763522
>I need to get home, get sleep
I feel like we need to check in with our loved ones, I'm sure they're worried about us

Did any reporters get a view of our epic battle, will our team show up on Youtube? Well, before the spooks delete them until people put it up on 4chan?

>>4763557
>>4763551
>>4763540
>>4763535
locked in

Food. My belly groaned.

"I could eat," I said.

Misfit looked over her shoulder. "You got enough juice to get us back to the safehouse, 'Child?"

He let out a sigh, rubbing his face.

"Yeah, should do," he said.

We gathered up, me leaning on Misfit, clutching my stomach.

"Okay," he said, "Let's go."

Did we actually kill people this time?

I crashed out on Julie Adams' couch. I was in and out of sleep, the only thing keeping me awake was the hiss of a shower and the thock of a knife on a cutting board. Then the smell of food cooking got me sitting up.

I've been drunk twice in my life and had a hangover both times. It was the only feeling I could relate to the hammers ringing in my head.

Someone had pulled off my shoes and loosened my jacket, but they hadn't touched my mask. Good, I still wasn't sure if I was comfortable showing my face to everyone here.

Grit was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, watching TV with a beer in his lap, flipping through. He had cleaned up, wearing a loose tank top, the bristles on his head a little darker than when we'd first met. So not bald, just liked to keep it short.

He flicked over to a news station.

Priscilla Takanawa stood on the East Chicago docks.

"-scene of mass casualties. Police are calling for any witnesses into what some are already calling the 'New Year's Day War', the sight of a massive gun battle between Chicago's largest criminal organizations. We still don't have an accurate figure on casualties but the number could be as high as several dozen. Adding to the confusion around the issue is rumors of para-freak activity, with the vigilante Hotspur and other costumed companions spotted near the site of the carnage. The mayor is calling for calm in the coming days, and is promising a crack down on-"

Grit flicked it over to cartoons.

"Fuck that noise," he said, draining his beer, "I know what happened."

He glanced back to see me sitting up. "You awake?" he said.

"I'm not dreaming," I said.

"Here," he handed me a beer. I pulled down my mask just enough to drink. It felt good going down, crisp and a little bitter, but not overwhelming.

If I had to sum up how I felt it would be 'hollow'. Not just physically but emotionally. All the anxiety and fear was drained out of me, and the relief too was gone. The sweet relief of having made it through danger, which usually left me buzzing, just wasn't there today. Mostly I was hungry. I finished the beer before I realized it, fishing for another. It was good to be alive.

That's about all I felt. That and hungry from the smell wafting from the kitchen.

We were in Julie Adams' comfortable middle class house, in her comfortable middle class neighborhood in Chicago's deep north. It was as far as you could get from where we'd been without leaving the country.

Some kind of metal was playing in the kitchen. Misfit's music. I didn't recognize the band but I'm no metal head.

"Where are the others?" I said.

Grit shrugged. "Thunderchild is taking a nap, Pratfall is having a shower."

At that the shower stopped, the pipes groaning.

She came down drying her hair wearing blue jeans and a loose blouse. A straight faced Chinese girl with small glasses. It took me a second. She looked more like a pharmacist than a superhero.

"Pratfall?" I said.

She looked at me with a blank face, adjusting her glasses then pulled her hair back into a bun.

"The food smells good," she said, voice barely over a monotone. She went to the table, quietly waiting with her hands folded in her lap.

Grit stared, beer spilling down his chin onto his shirt.

Thunderchild came in yawning just as Misfit came out of the kitchen with a pot of food in either hand. One was some kind of stripped chicken loaded with spices, the other was a beans and rice mix. She came back with tortillas and bowls of fresh made guacamole and salsa.

"Hope you guys like Mexican," she said.

She was out of her costume too, such as it was, barefoot with her jacket hanging off a hook.

"Damn, smells good," Grit said, taking a seat. Thunderchild sat next to him, ladling out food onto a plate.

"You joining in, 'Spur?" Misfit asked.

I became aware of my mask, and the maskless faces at the table.

>eat alone
>take off the mask and join in

>>4763655
>take off the mask and join in

>>4763655
>take off the mask and join in

>>4763655
>take off the mask and join in

>>4763655
>take off the mask and join in
If Thunderchild wakes up while we're eating rib him for using powers to win high school basketball games.

>>4763679
>>4763672
>>4763667
>>4763659
locked in

Fuck it.

I pulled down my mask and pulled off my goggles.

"So the prince shows his face," Misfit teased as I pulled up a chair, handing me a plate.

"Good, hate talkin' to people wearing masks," Grit said.

I scooped some beans onto a tortilla and doused it in hot sauce. Thunderchild frowned at me as he ate, then gave a loud 'Oh shit!'

"You're the guy," he said, "From the north side team, the basketball player."

"Yeah," I said with a grin, "Guess I figured my powers were good for more than winning ball games."

He toasted me with a beer than knocked it back. I just kept my head down eating. Misfit could cook, and I was more than hungry. It got to the point I was sucking on limes, there was nothing else to eat. It was all it took not to lick the plate.

"Watching you eat stresses me out," Misfit said. I belched.

"So what was this all about anyway?" Grit asked.

Still chewing a tortilla, I pulled the stone out of my breast pocket. It was warm to the touch, a faint glow still on its surface. I dropped it on the table where it landed ith a sharp click.

"Me and Misfit," I said, swallowing the last bit of cud, "We swiped this a few months back from the black ops guys. It's some kind of extra-terrestrial artifact, and part of what caused the Chicago Explosion. A lot of guys are trying to get it, mostly for other people. Ixion is the main one."

"The gas company?" Thunderchild said.

"Far more than a gas company."

It was Pratfall said it. We looked to her as she corrected her glasses.

"Ixion's main business is energy," she said, "But they also have an interest in pharmaceuticals, agriculture and weapons development. They're something we refer to as a 'four horsemen' company. Weapons, drugs, fuel, and food."

"We?" Misfit said.

Pratfall sighed. "I'm a student at DePaul," she said, "Majoring in mathematical sciences. I'm actually there on an Ixion scholarship." Outside her costume she had a voice so flat it was hard to pick where she was from. It was hard to believe she even was the tumbling, fumbling jester.

"Fancy shit," Grit said.

"Hardly, Ixion hands out a great many scholarships and internships. It gives them a select field of recruits to draw on for their various subsidiaries and projects."

"And you're one of those recruits?" I said.

"In theory," she said, "But I've been disturbed by my own investigations into the company. Suffice to say I'm happy you've frustrated their efforts to acquire the stone."

Thunderchild stared at her for a second. "Are you absolutely sure you're Pratfall?" he said.

"You can call me Xiang if you prefer," she said.

"Jang," Grit replied.

"No, Xiang," she said, the first flash of emotion on her face a tick in her eyebrow. "It suits my purposes to affect a certain persona when I'm in costume, it helps people draw false assumptions about my civilian identity which lead them off my scent."

Then, after a long silence she mumbled to her plate, "And I always wanted to be a clown."

I stared at her maybe longer than I should have. It made me wonder which was real, this sober woman, or the freewheeling acrobat.

"So what happens next?" Misfit said, "I figure we got the gangs off our backs for a while and maybe even the federal guys, but Thunderchild and me are still wanted for crimes we didn't commit, and those guys are going to come back eventually."

"Colonel Vandieman isn't a fuck around kind of guy," Thunderchild said.

I rubbed my temples. What I'd give for a break from all this.

"As I figure it the DPA is their public face," I said, "It's the DPA stitched you guys up then pawned you off to those guys, same as they've done with other para-folk."

"They got others locked up?" Grit said. I nodded. "Well then we got to go rescue them."

"Easy, Grit, we've already fought one battle," Misfit said, "There's plenty of time for more later."

"Besides, we'd need more than what we got to storm their base," Thunderchild said, "Believe me, I've been there. They got shit you wouldn't believe."

"Whatever they have, its a generation behind Ixion," Pratfall, Xiang, said, "Ixion is the company they buy these toys off."

"So what, we sit on our hands?" Grit said, "Man, I thought you were in this fight."

"I'm in it, just not in it to get killed," Thunderchild said, "Believe me, no one's got more reason to hate those fucks than me. They did all kinds of shit to us, even put a goddamn worm in my head."

"There's a news story should be coming out," I said, "Blowing open the conspiracy. I don't think it'll take them down but, I don't know, I hope it helps."

"In the mean time we should..."

There was a turn of the lock, and I pulled my mask up fast.

Julie Adams came in, Ms Grant behind her.

"So here you all are," Ms Grant said, her usual composure gone with a snap, "Mind telling me why I was kept in the dark about a gang war that shot up an entire city dock?"

I shared a look with my comrades. "We thought it was better to keep you in the dark," I said.

Her phone came up like a weapon. "Next time, think again. I just had to quash a warrant for your arrest. I argued there wasn't enough evidence to prove your direct involvement. I was lying out my ass."

She looked over us and her snarl settled into a frown. "Good God, are any of you older than twenty one?"

We looked uncomfortable around the table. I think Xiang or Grit were the oldest and they were maybe nineteen.

"Of course you're all children," she said, "Only children could think they can save the world."

I looked past her to Ms Adams.

"What about the story, ma'am?" I said.

"Oh, the expose?" Adams said, "It was going to be the front page story until today. Now we're running nothing but coverage of the New Year's Day War for the next week."

"So long as it gets out there," I said. I'd post it on Reddit if I had to.

"So what's next 'Spur?" Thunderchild asked.

They looked to me. Misfit, Pratfall, Grit and Thunderchild, and that's when it occurred to me.

They thought I was their leader.

"Uh..." I started, unused to the responsibility they were putting on me.

>we make moves against Ixion
>keep up the pressure on the gangs
>keep up pressure on the federal operation
>just take it easy for now, keep your heads down

I'll either be back tomorrow or the day after

>>4763821
>keep up the pressure on the gangs

Easiest target for now and allows us to establish ourselves as do-gooders rather than simply another gang

Also get them all costumes, we NEED costumes

>>4763821
>keep up pressure on the federal operation

Misfit and Thunder Child are still wanted. The sooner we prove their innocence the better. And what better place to find evidence than the secret underground base.

Oh and
>costumes, costumes for everyone

>>4763821
>keep up the pressure on the gangs
We need to improve our PR. Let's bust some gangers and get good press for it.

>>4763821
>we make moves against Ixion
Follow the money. They're the root of all of this.

>>4763821
>>keep up the pressure on the gangs

>>4763821
>>costumes, costumes for everyone
also.

i agree with the people saying we need better pr. it important that people trust us, besides, we are probably the first official superheros, we need to set a good precent

Organized crime is bad, I get that. The gangs are probably gonna lie low for a bit and then escalate dramatically after the ass beating they just got. But Ixion is up to some shady shit that could effect a lot more people. We need to focus on them. They're the ones working with the federal government. They're the ones who paid the gangs to get their hands on the stone. And they're the ones who sent Houndmaster and Sundowner to kill Zamani's loved ones. Hell, I bet they're behind the fire at Fermilab too. I think we're never gonna get anywhere unless we focus on them.

>>4764045
of course, but if we cant get the people on our side, then we are kinda fucked, we need people to care, and liste to what we say

>>4764060
I think our rep is good with people who matter. We'll probably be labeled a terrorist or some shit like that pretty soon. Getting distracted by public opinion when the stakes are this high is a huge waste of time.

>>4763821
>>keep up pressure on the federal operation

>>4763816
Oh no, she's adorable.

So getting back onto shipping bullshit

Kay is trash
Ayesha better stop trying to get out of the damn friendzone, you're like a sister to us
Ivy continues to prove herself to be the best again and again and again.

That being said, if we ever break up with Kay let's not just jump into something new just like that, let us be single and without relationship bullshit for a while

>>4763821
>keep up the pressure on the gangs
Ixion will move when they want too, and the feds don't need ammo they can easily edit into proof to take us out. But shredding what's left of the gangs will help.

>>4764128
And everyone else outnumber those people that matter.

>>4763821
Oh yeah>>4764233
Add in
>costumes, costumes for everyone

File: 62bf50ef7b496f9582ec85518(...).jpg (97 KB, 640x635)

97 KB JPG

>>4764060
Why though? We do this for the general public but their support doesn't really change how we do things. Our enemies can control the media and we literally just started an all out gang war. Good PR is never gonna happen for us.
I swear to God, PRfags will be the death of us

>>4764283
Fuck off antiPRfag, bet you're a kay-fag as well with your shit taste

>>4763821
>we make moves against Ixion

>>4764283
Way too simplistic. Our enemies influence the media, but the United States government isn't sufficiently authoritarian to entirely control it. If we do cool shit, people on social media and rebellious independent news outlets will take notice. It's literally already happened, actually. When we beat up those cops, many people on Twitter liked it. Imagine if we save kittens or some shit.

>>4765359
what does the support of the people do for us in practice though?

>>4765359
Semper Fi has a kitten saving monopoly

>>4765397
Because only one important cop, whom only has a get out of jail card for Hotspur, is on our side, we only have one reporter who fluffs up Hotspur because Misfit was framed for murder(still is), and Thunderchild is a glorified escaped convict(also still framed). Eric/Hotspur is literally the only one with a positive rapport with the city, and that is tenuous at best. It isn't just good PR for Hotspur, its for the rest of the crew to make the feds back up a bit from trying to nab them. If we jump straight to fighting Iaxion for example, a group largely untouched besides beating they're attack dog, but is well liked by the public, or god forbid the feds like your impatient ass wants, we would all be labeled terrorists, and then everyone will try to dogpile us.

>>4765447
And Shark rescues child slaves, oh that is an idea, he's probably done more of that since we've seen him, we need to get him a reporter friend. Or maybe a Bizarre Marine Biologist.

What are we, a slimy politician? We should do what's right because it's right, not because we think the public will like us more. That's what pisses me off about the whole PR obsession.

>>4765743
Honestly. At the end of the day we're a half step away from shark. We walk with fire and cast away the darkness. What people think doesn't matter.

>>4765359
Corporations control the media more than the government. What is Ixion? A massive and well connected corporation.
>>4765794
We're nowhere near being shark. We have a code of ethics that we follow that is generally virtuous. I shouldn't even have to say this, but eating people alive is nowhere near what we do. If people like what we do, that's great. But we shouldn't base our actions off of what other people would think about them. What's our tombstone gonna say? Here lies Hotspur, he checked all the boxes and trended on twitter a whole lot and everyone liked him? If we're going to be the role model for all future superheroes, we should focus on following our own moral compass and not the fickle court of public opinion. The public doesn't know shit about what's going on with parahumans yet.

>>4765874
Seems like you completely misunderstood me. I'm saying we're a half step away from Shark BECAUSE we both have a moral code, his is more skewed though. Essentially, I feel anyway, that both us and Shark operate on what we think is best; optics be damned. PR doesn't matter as long as we're doing what's right.

>>4765906
Apologies fellow anti PR anon, I'm a little heated about the subject after having to argue about it in every thread

>>4765947
No worries. People forget that everyone backed Spiderman no matter how much JJJ and Oscorp talked shit. The right people know we're not a menace.

>>4764031
>>4764011
>>4763840
>>4764233
locked in with the costumes write-in

"We keep the pressure on the gangs," I said, "They took a hard knock but we need to keep them down before they hit back. So we'll mess up their operations where we find them, drive their people off the street, make them too scared to show their faces."

"Not just the Outfit or the Midwest Cartel, but the Triads too, and anyone else looking to make some money off the misery of the city."

"I'm down for that," Grit said.

"I'll do what I can but I have the warrant on my head," Misfit said, "Me and 'Child are still fugitives, and they'll be tearing up the city looking for us after today."

"We're working on that," Ms Grant said, "I'm building a case with Hotspur's help to prove your innocence. I may have a lead with the primary detective, but it will take some more leg work."

"Actually Ms Grant, do you know if Merriweather is free for more commissions?" I said.

"Merriweather?" Thunderchild said.

"I figure these guys could use some new threads," I said, "Costumes you know."

"I'll ask, but Merriweather isn't cheap," she said, "I had to play them an arm just for your suit, the leg was left on as a discount."

"Thanks all the same," I said.

Business was finished. Thunderchild was planning to head to the south side to crash with Queen Rat's people, make some time with his girl. Xiang, Pratfall, went with him. Before she did she went upstairs, and came tumbling down in her face paint and jester's costume.

"Ready to saddle up partner?" she said with a wide grin, popping to her feet before Thunderchild. Again I was surprised by how a simple costume switch seemed to transform the girl. "Boy howdy I'm beat and sure could use a reset. Do you think Boomer's cooking tonight? I'm hoping not. They call my jokes bad but his cooking is murder!"

Thunderchild groaned, took her by the shoulder.

"Catch you guys later," Thunderchild said, and with the perky jester disappeared in a thunderous boom.

Me, I had to get home. But my footsteps dragged and my head was fuzzy. I'd told Ivy I'd go see her after, which meant getting changed back into my civilian gear. I was exhausted enough I considered blowing it off and crashing here on Adams' couch, but I forced myself out after saying my goodbyes.

Bounding through the sky, the city beneath me, I had no questions and no thoughts. They were drained out of me, replaced instead by an empty mind riding on autopilot. I don't think I'd ever been so tired, even after a good meal and a sleep.

I changed at my hideout and kicked my way home.

Dad was lying on the couch, a half empty bottle of Jack beside him, the TV on with Priscilla Takanawa still grimly reporting from the scene of the battle. Dad hadn't shaved, he hadn't washed either, and he barely seemed concious when he rolled red eyes to the door as I came in. He didn't get up but moved a feeble arm at the bottle as if he could hide it from me and I'd ignore all the rest.

The sight of him stopped me in my tracks. I hadn't seen him like this in months.

Now something rose through the exhausted fog of my mind. I wasn't angry, exactly. It wasn't rage. It wasn't sharp or exploding but more a dark wave rising. A swamping feeling that dragged me down with it. Shame, maybe.

"Sorry," he mumbled, rolling onto his belly, face into the cushions. That's all he said, he didn't move or make another sound.

I stared at him from the doorway. Stared at him lying on the couch, his face hidden, the reek of alcohol and an unwashed body wafting through the house.

It was all so exhausting.

>stay home and take care of Dad
>get changed and go to the Carver house
>ignore promises and obligations and go to bed

>>4768145
>Help clean Dad up so he isn't in his mess, then head to the Carver House.
Old habits die hard, and the man watched fight in a open gang war with the military and every group he was told stories about.

>>4768145
>stay home and take care of Dad
yeah that must have been pretty rough for him to watch

>>4768145
>get changed and go to the Carver house
We can move him to his room first at least

>>4768295
>>4768156
locked in

Dad didn't fight when I picked him up off the couch, though he made a small animal noise as I carried him through to his bed.

I got him set, pulled off his shoes.

But I wasn't planning on hanging around.

"I'll see you tonight," I said, not sure if he could even understand me.

I clicked off the light then went to shower off and change.

The stone went back in my desk drawer. When it did the stray cat sat up on my bed, ars perked, sniffing. It went over to the desk, scratching at it, rubbing its chin against the edge. Weird mangy thing, but after taking down a blood worm I wasn't going to shoo it out. I gave it a scratch behind the ear, distracting it enough to purr, then changed into a set of clean clothes.

I'd told Ivy I'd come talk to her after today, but I wasn't sure what I wanted to tell her.

Last night at the party, and now today after fighting for my life.

What did I even want to tell her?

How I felt about her was a confusing mess.

My phone had a couple of messages, mostly new year greetings from my family. Jude, my grandparents, a few people I hadn't seen at the party last night. Nothing from Ivy or from Kay.

I put my phone away, brushed my hair. Maybe Ivy would know where I'd been today, but Ayesha didn't. I got my bag then went out, the stray cat following me to the door. I really should name it. I really should get it checked for parasites too.

Stop it. I was focusing on the cat to distract myself.

I went out to the bus shelter. By now I knew how to get to the Carver house with my eyes closed, but on the bus it was hard to keep my eyes open, the bounce and rock of the carriage lulling me half to sleep.

Long day,even if the sun was going down early. I stumbled my way onto the transfer took me into the north side, the rest of the passengers as silent and tired as I was.

By the time I got to the Carver residence the sun had set and the early night sky was opening with a field of young stars, brushed over the horizon. Light glowed in their windows, fresh snow starting to fall.

I hesitated at the front step, then knocked.

Ayesha answered, breathless from laughter.

"Eric," she said, "What's up?"

"Is Ivy in?" I said.

Ayesha's smile turned to a slight frown. "No, she's at a ballet thing. She should be back soon, Dad went to pick her up. Um, Kay is here though."

"You know, your girlfriend."

I swallowed, a stab of guilt in my chest.

"We've been watching anime," she said, "To take her mind off things."

"Yeah?" I said, "What things?"

Ayesha crossed her arms, leaning in the doorway. "You, mostly," she said, "She's upset about something happened last night. Or didn't happen."

"Yeah," I said.

"Do you want to come in?" she said it like it might be a better idea for me to wait outside.

"Either way you should talk to her."

>I'll wait outside
>Go inside
>Maybe I should just leave

sorry, distracted by usman v masvidal

>>4768389
>Go inside
She deserves the courtesy.

>>4768396
Fair.

>>4768406
masvidal got dropped hard

>>4768410
Neat.

>>4768389
>Go inside

>>4768389
>Go inside

>>4768396
hotspur mma training when

>>4768424
>>4768417
>>4768402
locked in

>>4768389
>Go inside
>For fuck sake tell Ayasha we are Hotspur

"It's cold out," I said, snowflakes melting on my shoulders.

Ayesha gave me the doorway. A nervous drum beat ran through my veins. Her mom was in the kitchen, giving the girls alone time. Kay was in the frunchroom, the tv paused on a trio of cartoon girls arguing around a table. She had a bucket of popcorn in her lap and a small expression when she saw me.

"Hey," I said.

She picked up the bucket of popcorn, put it beside her, got up and walked into the back dining room. I looked over to Ayesha, who shrugged.

I followed her back. "What's up?" I said.

Kay looked over her shoulder, expression growing hot. Angry. Great.

"You didn't come here to see me," she said. It wasn't a question but it thrust through me anyway.

"No, I didn't," I admitted.

"Last night," she said, "I waited for you. Even if we'd had a fight I thought...its new years eve, what does it matter? But you slipped out without saying anything. You just left."

"I had to clear my head," I said.

"Yeah, well, I think I need to clear my head too."

What did that mean? It sent a crawl up my arm.

"Are you...are we breaking up?" I said.

She looked back at me, her face now gone cold.

"I'll see you at school," she said. She walked by, then stopped, forcing me to look around. "You tell the...the person you actually came to see whatever you want," she said, glaring at the carpet.

"Kay," I started.

"Bye Ayesha," she said, grabbing her coat without looking back, stalking out. I almost ran after her, but Ayesha stopped me.

"It won't help, Eric," she said, stepping between me and the door, "Trust me, I know her. Give her some time, she's upset."

"Because I didn't kiss her last night?" my voice came out tight, choked.

"That too," she said, "I mean, you know how it looks to her. I know it isn't what she thinks, I know you and Ivy aren't doing anything but...just think about how it looks and try to be understanding."

Understanding? I closed my eyes, breathing hard. I didn't notice Ayesha had helped me sit until my eyes were open. She turned off the tv, held my hand. I was shaking and hadn't noticed. She gave me a warm little smile, then a shoulder hug.

"She'll come to her senses," Ayesha said, "You're a great guy Eric, she's remember that. Just let her be a little dramatic and it'll blow over."

"Do you think so?" I said.

Now a look of doubt crossed her face. "Maybe," she said, "Honestly, Kay can be...difficult I guess. She can really hold a grudge."

"Sorry," she said, "God, this is my fault. I'm such an asshole."

I frowned at her. "How?" I said.

"I asked you to ask her out," Ayesha said, "I...I knew she liked you, and after everything last year with Ivy I thought she needed, well...I really shouldn't have stuck my nose in."

I stared ahead at nothing.

"I hope she comes to her senses," she said, "I'll try to talk to her if you want."

I closed my eyes. This was a headache.

>No Ayesha, don't put yourself to the trouble
>I'd really appreciate it if you did

>>4768532
>No Ayesha, don't put yourself to the trouble

I have a sneaking suspicion that Kay will out us as Hots if we send Ayesha to talk to her, if anything we should spill those beans right about fucking now so Ayesha at least knows before-hand and can process this shit.
Fuck Kay.

not many people around tonight

I'll pick this up tomorrow

>>4768532
>No Ayesha, don't put yourself to the trouble

>>4768532
>No Ayesha, don't put yourself to the trouble

>>4768532
>No Ayesha, don't put yourself to the trouble

>>4768532
>No Ayesha, don't put yourself to the trouble
>>4768540
Yeah, she's getting pretty damn petty. She just fucking might.

>>4768532
>No Ayesha, don't put yourself to the trouble

>>4768540
Agreed, fuck Kay she's the worst mistake our horny teenage minds ever made

Why the fuck did the thread decide that Kay's puss was equal in value to not only our lives but the lives of all our loved ones and anyone close to us, fuck Kay and kayfags

>>4769203
Forgot to add

DON'T TELL AYESHA ANYTHING!

Listen, if kay betrays us and tells ayesha or anyone else that's pretty much expected at this point, but stop revealing our biggest fucking secrets to everyone and anyone for no goddamn reason, ayesha is just a friend on equal grounds to hunter and the rest of the clique we have at school, just because she's a GIRL doesn't mean she automatically needs to know everything about our fucking lives, she's just a normal friend who happens to be a girl, let her remain normal, don't drag her into our world

>>4769215
Well we obviously weren't going to do that.

>>4769215
Indeed.

>>4769203
I don't understand why Ivyfags think Kay is so bad when they actively vote to sabotage the relationship and then get mad when she reacts badly. Like wow, we blow off our girlfriend to hang out with her worst enemy, and then it's her fault when she doesn't like it? You're the ones who are pushing her, and then you say anything she does is proof that Kay was a bad choice. So dishonest.

>>4768532
>I'd really appreciate it if you did

>>4769389
>Leaving after accidentally scaring her when we tried to open up about being in a war the next day.
>Not cheating on her with Ivy whom would be willing to do so
>Trying to treat her with basic courtesy while she's still in the clouds about how cool it is to date a superhero.
>Even almost spilling our identity at a Christmas party out of jealous spite
You are an absolute moron.

>>4769404
You're actually and literally delusional if you think not cheating on her is something worth being commended for. Get an actual girlfriend sometime, my god.

File: 1577908242492.gif (2.94 MB, 420x315)

2.94 MB GIF

>>4769409
I don't like either but Kay's a walking and breathing red-flag and you're a retard for getting us into this situation Kayfag
Once you fail to uphold the 'NO WAY FAG' Mantra everything will slowly begin to crumble due to W*men and waifufags.

>>4769575
You may not be as bad as the Ivyfags, but the quest would be much duller without the drama.

>>4768922
>>4768755
>>4768710
>>4768684
>>4768597
locked in

"You don't have to do that Ayesha, don't put yourself to the trouble," I said.

She sighed. "Yeah, I've caused enough trouble, right?"

That wasn't what I meant.

"That wasn't what I meant," I said.

"Okay," she said, then forced a smile.

It wasn't long before a car pulled up with a hard yank on the gearshift, doors opening then clipping shut, and a rattle of a key chain.

"Goddamn if I have to do one more pirouette I'll kill myself," Ivy said, shedding her purple jacket.

She wore her white ballet tights and a pair of pink kicks, gym bag over her shoulder. Pulling her hair loose from a bun to drop down over her shoulders with a shake of her head, she frowned, vaguely annoyed while scratching the back of her head. Then her expression lightened when she saw me on the couch with Ayesha.

She sagged with relief, spots of pink on her cheeks.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey," I said, heart thumping in my chest as I stood up.

She walked to the stairs. "Well you're here," she said, "But I stink so I'm going to uh, go get changed."

Mr Carver came in behind her, raised his eyebrows when he saw me.

"You stayin' for dinner?" he asked.

I shrugged.

He muttered as he walked to the back of his house, muttering something about feeding stray white kids.

"Well I'm going to get changed to so," Ayesha said, "Maybe talk to Ivy when she's done in the shower. I think you guys have a lot to talk about."

Yeah, I thought, but not what you think.

I followed Ayesha up and waited for Ivy to finish getting clean. When the shower shut off she came out not fully dry and dressed in an old shirt with leggings. Her cheeks had that wet glow.

She opened the door to her room, leading me in, and once we were closed the door sharp.

She spun around and hugged me tight.

"You're safe," she whispered into my chest, "You're safe, you're safe."

She hugged me tight, and it took me a second to realize from the shake in her shoulders she was crying. I had my hands up, useless in surprise, fire flickering alive in my chest.

"Thank you for coming back," she said. I wasn't sure who she was thanking, me or God.

Slowly I wrapped my arms around her. Held her close.

"I told you I would," I said, "I try not to lie."

"Asshole," she said, pushing me back. But she was smiling, tears drying on her already wet cheeks. "Man, I'm such an idiot, crying," she said, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

"So you saw the news," I said.

"You'd have to try hard not to, and I tried not to," she said, "I went to ballet class just to take my mind off it but half the girls were gushing over you anyway."

"Not me, just my costume," I said. That's all I was to the fangirls and fanboys I was vaguely aware of. It was still weird to me knowing I had a fanbase.

"That and to avoid Kaylee," she said, "Did something go on between you guys? She was acting weird when I saw her. Well, weirder."

>nothing, everything there's fine
>I think we kind of sort of broke up

>>4770115
>I think we kind of sort of broke up

>>4770115
>I think we kind of sort of broke up

"It's not your fault, but rather me and my actions"

Listen guys, ivy is great but let's just stay single for a good while, no need to rush from one girl to another, looks bad and is bad

>>4770115
>We had a bit of a fight

>>4770115
>I think we kind of sort of broke up

>>4770115
>I think we kind of sort of broke up