by Michele | Sep 27, 2017 | Chronicles
Conner: When Cassie called, I was in the middle of flying back to Metropolis. There had been only momentary hesitation before answering. After all, I’d been very close to Gotham! Somehow Cassie knew, that quickly! Am I in trouble? Wait-a-minute. Why would I be in trouble? She’s the one hiding stuff. Including a whole city that she’s been micro-managing me out of. There are very few times in my short life when I knew for certainty that -I- am not the one who should be in trouble. So I’d answered that call. In what was, I have to assume retroactively, one of the most defensive voices that I’ve ever had.
“I wasn’t doing anything! She was in danger, so I was flying her home. That’s it, honestly…wait-what?”
It happens to be a little strange, once I take the time to think about it but… I’d actually forgotten that I was in the process of spying on Cassie when the original distraction happened. She’d been out of town, on what had at the time sounded like another trip to a boring city for another tour of a college she wouldn’t end up selecting. At least, that’s what I had assumed she was doing once she started to explain where she was heading. Fawcett City? The only reason I’ve even ever heard of it, is because of my first case out of the cloning cylinder…
Uh, oh.
This looks like a job for Superman! Because I’m sure not showing up any other way right now. Calling it in as ‘Work’ also, at least temporarily, gets me off the hook for the situation in Metropolis. Which is to say, I’m not looking forward in to going back and explaining to Doc Fairchild what happened there. Not the real version. Nor the makeshift cover story. All of it is going to be a hard sell, but if I show up with presents? Hey, maybe she overlooks my not bringing in a low-level Meta like the curvaceous Dinah Lance. She might even be in the mood to accept that I’m intending to see Dinah again, which is why I’m not indoctrinating her in to N.O.W.H.E.R.E.
As much as I normally like to make an entrance as the President’s Son, I’m growing to enjoy -this- entrance as well. ‘Look, up in the sky.’ ‘Oh, shut up Betsy, that’s just a bird.’ ‘That ain’t no man, it’s a plane. You need yer glasses checked, Festus.’ Nope. Wrong on all counts, as Cassie can attest once I come down to a landing atop the county courthouse. She’s made some friends it would seem. Is that a Sheriff standing with her?
“Sorry it took so long,” all of about three minutes, give or take a minute for the time change. Which is roughly ten million times the time investment needed to check Cassie out in her uniform. “When I got your call, I was on my way back to Metropolis. I must have been out of my cell network, because it sounded like you said you needed me to send someone to pick up a crocodile.”
Cassie: Guilty conscience. It’s as much a saying as it is an accusation as it is an actual thing. None of them are something that I have ever, and I mean ever attributed to Conner Luthor, despite the thing that he’s done an awful lot of things that most people would probably feel at least a little bit of remorse over. It would also have to imply that he has a conscience. Besides me, that is. Okay, so that’s a tad harsh because it’s not that he’s totally lacking, he just has a skewed sense of a lot of things. You can blame his upbringing for that. No, not the simulated corn-fed variety but what was actually going on at the time. We’re working on it. He’s getting better. Still. I’m utterly unprepared for the stream of words that come out once I’ve had a minute to get Freddy to safety, work out a meeting for later, and then de-sewer myself.
Maybe the stunned silence on the other end had come off like angry fuming since he doesn’t have the ability to pair a facial expression with it. Or at least, I hope he doesn’t because that would mean he had in fact been following me. Blue eyes had gotten progressively narrower the longer he’d gone on though. She? Who’s she and where was he taking her that he feels the need to excuse himself over it? Conner doesn’t excuse or explain himself. Conner just does what Conner wants to do, typically. And that may just have to be a conversation for a later time because there’s something a great deal more pressing going on here.
Apparently these suits are self-cleaning. Very handy. And something I didn’t know before now. I’m sure the Sheriff would have attempted to be very polite if I’d still reeked of sewage and waste, and I’m also sure Conner would have had comments to make were I naked, but since neither of those would have made for very dignified introductions for the local law enforcement to Wonder Woman? Lets just go with ‘it’s a very good thing I have the suit.’ You know what’s also great? That being able to fly means I can make the short trip upwards to hover on the roof in front of him without removing either of my hands from my hips at any point.
The attitude is maybe a little ruined by the fact that I’m trying very hard not to smile. Maybe no one else would pick it out, or even know, but I happen to love flying. It’s the best part of my powers. It’s also the part I get to use the very least, and here I am. Plain view of any of the loiterers that had stuck around afterwards to sate their curiosity about what had happened at the bank, or for me. And I like it.
“Back from where?” So maybe it won’t wait that long before I have to ask. “And you only partially heard me wrong. I need you to pick up some Crocodile Men. Almost a whole pack of them, actually. They seem to have decided today was a good day to pick up bank robbing.”
Conner: “Gotham,” there might just be a hint of guilt in the admission, but I don’t lie to Cassie and I’ve got nothing to hide! Okay. Maybe a little to hide. “Long story. Cliff notes: A very, very, very attractive lead singer, tried to solicit Superman for her audience. It didn’t go well, but for once? Not my fault, and I actually mean it. I had big plans to tell you how you should be proud of me. I was getting so laid, like I would have needed to redefine what it even means to get laid like you were going to lay me.”
Oh. Right. This isn’t a discussion between Cassie Sandsmark and Connor Luthor, we’re supposed to be someone else. Some thing else, entirely, point in fact. I normally do a better job at hiding my proclivities, but it’s been a very long day. Headed in to a very long night. I’m barely comforting myself by looking through Cassie’s costume as it is. I better not do something else stupid right now. So I just sigh out the rest of the ‘short version’ of events, while taking stock of my girlfriend from top to bottom. Then bottom to top.
“She ended up being a Meta. I tried to offer her a way to avoid … them, since she gave herself away in the middle of Metropolis. Turns out she’s part of some sort of Underground, in Gotham. I think she was trying to recruit me with sex. Or maybe she was distracting me, so that her Underground friends could do something. Distract me, with sex. Anyway, she blew my ear drums out. So I threatened to kill her and everyone who ‘witnessed’ the event, unless she let me save her. She gave in. So I dropped her off in Gotham and came here. Gotham Harbor, just outside of the City.”
Ahem. Well that’s my side of the events. Truth is, I never got really question the ‘Why’ of everything. Nor did I get to really follow up on it like I’d been planning. What with the call to come here and help with. “Uh. Crocodile Men? You got to fight Bank Robbing Crocodile Men and I almost got fucked by a good looking super-spy? I love this job!”
My excitement is only moderately restrained, if that, by the fact that my eyes finally shift from her breasts to the large bruise along one forearm. This isn’t the first time that Cassie has seen my eyes begin to glow faintly with a red hue. No small amount of anger surges through me over her being hurt. Though, I’ll be the first to say it. This ‘Job’ is dangerous. We’ve talked about it before. I haven’t done this for the last few years without my own share of bumps and bruises. Some of our foes have strength on par with our’s. It’s only natural that we’ll get hurt in the process. What infuriates me isn’t even that she got hurt. Someone left a mark on my perfect Goddess.
“We’ve encountered a crocodile man before. One in Gotham actually,” stepping in, allowing the cape to cloak the two of us from prying eyes for a moment, while I take her hand in inspection of the bruise. “Why didn’t you call me sooner?”
Cassie: “You. Were in Gotham.”
It’s not a question. I heard him the first time. I don’t even especially need confirmation, because why would he have said it if that wasn’t what happened. He could have said he was literally anywhere else, and that means he’s not lying about it. He was in Gotham, literally the only place I’ve ever tried to keep him out of. I maybe should be disappointed in him, or even mad, but it wasn’t like I didn’t expect it would happen eventually. I was only doing it as a favor to our friend, and it’s kind of a miracle it’s worked as long as it did. He actually manages to sound contrite about it, and I was on my way to deciding to just let it go for the time being in that instant. Then he continues with his story.
“…I should be proud of you because you were going to get laid?!”
I, also, have forgotten where we are and who we’re supposed to be for the moment, and the fact that sound is going to carry even better from this vantage to the area around us, so I clear my throat. Purse my lips together, unclench my fists and lower my voice an octave or two. I’m not sure if I’m regretting our open and honest policy right now, or if I want to be infuriated that he’s talking about sleeping with someone else while he’s doing what he’s doing with his eyes. Yes. I know what he’s doing. I ignore it most of the time. What happens, after that start of an outburst, is an almost comical series of emotions playing across my face, shifting almost as quickly as he relays his Very Trying Evening. Confusion about this underground in Gotham, curiosity if he actually has figured it out entirely. Puzzling over whether or not I should correct him, and if I could even do so without giving away a secret that’s not mine to tell. Actual concern over whether she really blew his eardrums out, and a moment of checking Conner over, until I cycle right back into disbelief.
“…you did what?! Of course she gave in! That’s what sane people…”
You know what. More bait I’m not rising to. Or not rising the rest of the way to, because it’s not intentional on his part. He’s telling me about his day! It just sounds an awful lot like one of my first times meeting Conner Luthor, and apparently it was with a super attractive other blonde. I’m not normally prone to jealousy, and that’s not really even what this is right now. I’m frustrated. Already was before he got here, and now I just need to focus on the matter at hand. Instead of bickering with my boyfriend while the Sheriff and whomever else watches. Pinching the bridge of my nose, there’s an audible sound of teeth grinding for a moment before I continue.
“Crocodile Men. With clown masks. In suits. Saved as many hostages as I could, but some of them had been eaten before I got there and…”
I’m leaving Freddy out of the conversation entirely. See. We don’t have to talk about other blondes to relate the tale of the night! I’m also not ready for him to be brought to anyone‘s attention yet, or rather I don’t think he’s ready. I’d honestly forgotten entirely about the very obvious line of bruises across both front and back of my arm, at least during out little chit chat here. I remember them when I see the obvious sign of anger in his glowing eyes, and follow where they’re angled. Oh. I wince slightly when he takes my arm to inspect the injury. Not because he’s making it worse, it’s just… gotten easy to forget what it feels like to be physically hurt sometimes.
“I’m not sure that there’s a connection, there. The whole situation was reading a whole lot more Nile than River Monchant.”
Because I didn’t -need- you, is the thought that flashes unbidden and definitely unwanted into my head and the second wince is for my own mind rather than my arm, as I lay my other hand on top of the one holding my injured appendage. Why I’m wanting to comfort -him- when he’s excited about some other chick wanting to do him, and he’s going where I told him not to…
“Because it went from thinking the hostages were deluded, to realizing that they were honest to Goodness Crocomaggia robbing the place, and between getting dogpiled and all the rest there just wasn’t time. I’m okay. It’s done. They just…obviously don’t really have a suitable detention facility in Fawcett city for. Well. Monsters.”
Conner: “Not so much in as on the outskirts, where I dropped her off. After we had a heart to heart. Maybe that’s not the right word choice….”
Okay. So Cassie is not reacting with the amount of grateful pride that I was anticipating when originally planning out how I would regale her with this Tale. Let’s me review what I’ve said to her, so as to better re-state why she shouldn’t be mad at me. Hold on. Did I say that I threatened to kill everyone? Probably another poor choice in wording. Damnit, I said I was giving the Cliff Notes! She’s judging me on the Cliff Notes without reading the book! It’s just like I do at school. When the text books lack the answer to the quizzes! They’re not worth reading.
By the point of her voice raising an octave, I’ve put my hand out to forestall getting lambasted, “Wait. Hold on. She did give in! I was testing her. I didn’t know if she was worth saving or if she was really some sort of Meta-Spy sent to attack the President’s Son. You know what I mean? It could have all been a trap. I didn’t know who she was working for, so I needed to know if she would save lives if they were on the line or not. So, I caused a localized earthquake…”
“Wait. Hold on. So it was more like a tremor. Very small. Barely a risk of bringing down the auditorium. And I did it after she attacked me with this super-sonic voice of her’s, that ruptured my ear drums. Limited my choices at that point, y’know?” How did I lose control of all of this so quickly? I know it too. When it’s out of control. A couple of N.O.W.H.E.R.E. Proctors could question me for days and I’d barely lift an eyebrow at this. Cassie? Has me stumbling over things I don’t even feel guilty about. “You were going to be proud of me, because she offered to have sex right there on the roof. I turned her down. I even offered to introduce her to some people that might be able to train her. She turned me down, so I went in out of costume to try to approach her incognito. Figured if I could get her on the Luthor record label, she wouldn’t disappear for having a super-wolf whistle.”
“Did I mention how hot this girl was? And that I turned her down? Or that I was trying to help her? Or that she attacked me? Or that she was from Gotham?” You see I’m not having any of this side-tracking. Not yet, at least. I want it stated. For the record. That I should still be getting laid. Because I did everything, just the way Cassie would have wanted me too.
Okay. Maybe not the threat to kill everyone. But. Sometimes you have to break a few eggs to make an omelette. “Well, they only managed to bruise your soft-tissue. It doesn’t look like there’s very much penetration. A couple more bites or some gnawing action though, might have done some real damage.”
This? This is a talk that I can handle without fumbling or screwing up my words. This is the job. Not the one with the Cape. Though as Cassie fills me in on just what she was dealing with? As absurd as it sounds, I don’t even question it. In turn that should clue her in to exactly what strange things I’ve dealt with in my short life-span as an Agent of the Project. While she speaks, I let my eyes grace over the bruises once more, before letting them settle upon those big bright eyes of her’s.
“There’s a facility. I can put them there, but there’s going to be questions. I’ll need to have Megan come too. Especially, if you’ve found another stray to hide in Gotham.”
Cassie: “Did she attack you before or after you threatened her? Because that’s probably a decent indicator of whether she was there to attack Conner Luthor on purpose, or if she didn’t find the Man of Steel as charming and doable anymore.”
He didn’t say he’d threatened this woman in quite so many words, but I know the schpeal. I heard it myself once. I also know Conner’s methods of convincing people to go along with the way he thinks they should be going. He’s getting better! Really! Just apparently not in his recruitment speech. I would actually bring up the fact that I’m betting she knew who he was. Not the President’s son, but Superman, both in and out of costume, because it seems awful suspicious to me. Except maybe I only think that way because of her methods of distracting him, because I knew there would be a distraction just not what kind, and that I’m putting a puzzle together I have more clues for than he does.
My mouth opens to protest the ‘localized earthquake’ but he keeps interrupting, rephrasing, and I’m really not entirely sure if he’s digging himself out of a hole, or making it deeper. Somehow I believe he’s managed to simultaneously do both. I let out a tremendous sigh, and push my free hand back through my hair. Mostly to stop from pinching the bridge of my nose again. Okay, Cassie. Lets stick to the important facts as he seems them and not just what he actually did because… he thinks he did a good thing, or he was trying to, and frankly I don’t want him to decide that’s too much effort in the future. Especially since apparently he’s starting to love this ‘job.’ Because chicks are throwing themselves at him.
“You did mention that. A couple times. I’m sure you made a very good effort. It shattered all his teeth when he chomped my arm. So there wasn’t much biting after that fortunately.”
We’ll leave out where I was fairly sure I was going to be a Croco-amputee and that I was pretty startled I wasn’t at the time. Don’t need to add any drama-trauma and make him that much more excited to be sure and be with me next time. Though that really isn’t fair. I actually like doing this with him. It was the only reason I’d started it in the first place. Then I started to realize, and had it pointed out to me, that I could also do something else and more with it. Over all, it’s boiled down into a clearly very weird day for me, and his weird day is connected to mine though he just doesn’t actually realize how. I’m nodding my head in acceptance, even agreement of what he’s saying. I assumed there’d be a place. Of course there’d be questions. It isn’t until he gets to the part about Megan than I purse my lips and wrinkle my nose.
“I’m not actually hiding anyone in Gotham, Superman. Meta or otherwise.”
Conner: “Before. Like waaay before. I mean she blew my ear drums out after I offered her a contract, with no terms. Just to connect herself with Luthor’s name, to save herself from them. Here I am. Offering mega-bucks with no payoff, I’d already told her that I didn’t want to sleep with her by that point. There wasn’t any catch. So she whammied me. Just for spite, I think. Since it turns out that she’s actually not some Agent of Evil Meta-Humans seeking nefarious whatevers.”
“She’s just some well-trained hot chick. Her Grammy was the original Black Canary. She’s got a legacy of Hot Chick DNA.” Even now. When I know that I’ve lost any hope of the pay off that I was actually after, I’m still working the magic. Siiigh. Sometimes, I should really just shut up. It’s better that way. “Seriously. Mega-Hot-Chick. Turned down. Completely. Shot down. Not because I didn’t want her. Oh-no. You’d have to be blind, deaf, and more than a little retarded. I’m talking Corky from Wonder Years retarded. To not want this girl. She was wearing this little number that I didn’t even need to X-Ray to see through.”
“Didn’t even give her my number, Cassie. I’m a one Woman sort of guy. Especially when my Woman is wonderful. Grade A Goddess.”
Sigh. So. Okay then. Crocodile Men. That’s my night now. No sexy blonde singer. Apparently no Grade-A Goddess ass. It’s hard being Superman. Really hard. With that sigh, I’m visibly slumping. Even I can admit that there comes a point when you’ve just got to accept that you’re not digging yourself out of the hole you’ve dug. Not without a scapegoat. That’s what I’m missing. A scapegoat. One prime suspect, to whom all other blame could be assigned.
This is why I’m okay with her putting together a team. More people to take the blame. “You’ve been keeping me out of Gotham for weeks and I just so happen to get attacked by a meta-human. Who says the only place she can think of that’ll be safe from N.O.W.H.E.R.E. is Gotham. It’s alright, Wonder Woman. You keep your secrets, I’ll keep mine.”
“Just remember that the next time you find out that I’ve got to cause an Earthquake to keep the Girls off of me. I won’t even bother you with explaining how I tried to save a Meta instead of throwing them to the wolves. Or how Faithful I was in the face of overwhelming beauty and a siren’s voice.”
With that? I step off the roof, to leave her with those glistening words of my rebuke. See how she likes it! Hah. Why then, do I feel as though, she really doesn’t see how good I was? Ugh. Time to go deal with Crocodile Men. The least confusing part of my whole night.
Cassie: “Okay, okay. But were you doing the thing? You know. The thing you do where you lean in a little and emphasize certain words to make sure someone knows you really mean something else?”
He’s trying really hard. It isn’t that I’m not giving him credit for that part, I’m just not giving him out loud credit for it. It’d be easy to say he’s making up excuses, but there’s a difference in the behavior. I know him. I’ve really only seen him so worked up and flustered one other time, and that was when he tricked me into becoming Wonder Woman in the first place. He hadn’t understood why I was mad, or at least he’d assumed the wrong reason. He thought he was doing good, and what I wanted him to do. I’d just been surprised and taken unaware by the whole thing. It wasn’t what I’d wanted then, but he wasn’t doing a bad thing. Tonight? Well. Frankly it sounds like maybe he did do a bad thing, but he was trying to do something good. And clearly was anticipating an entirely different reaction from me. Except maybe about the part where he was in or around Gotham when I’d told him not to.
“That was probably smart of you. And it’s not what you…”
Think. I could keep talking, despite the fact that he’s just turned his back and dropped off the roof. He’d still hear me, loud and clear, even if I decided to carry on the rest of the conversation in a whisper. The reason a meta would probably feel safe from NOWHERE in Gotham is because there are no metas in Gotham. That fact should probably have been suspicious before since they can possibly crop up anywhere. For there to be such a dead zone for powered people. NOWHERE doesn’t look for metas in Gotham because meta people don’t live there. Only crazy people do, and that’s a perfectly normal and acceptable state of being in this world, apparently.
I’d let him explain poorly. Then re-explain. And explain it again and I don’t even get the chance? I press my bruised arm against my stomach for a moment, like the twinge of the bruises are going to distract me from the way the frustration and unfairness seems to churn and gnaw at me and turn my face skyward for a moment alone with myself, and my grumbling before I push backwards in the air, turning to land once again near the surprisingly calm Sheriff I’d excused myself from for Conner’s arrival.
by Michele | Sep 20, 2017 | Chronicles
ST: Located in the central mid-west of the United States of America, Fawcett City is known more for it’s down home country style than it’s criminal element. It is the place where it’s corn-fed farmers go to peddle their wares and buy a few of their own. Akin more to Andy Griffith’s Mayberry than Batman’s Gotham, there’s rarely a day that goes by without the local barber weaving some tale of suspense to the kids on the corner. Nor a chance for those same kids to miss Granny Smith’s fresh apple pies. Baked right there in Granny’s Kitchen. It, like much of the Town, has stood the test of time. This is where the ‘core values’ of America were born, raised and have yet to die.
Crime? Feh. Young men fall over themselves to walk an old lady across the street. Doors are held for women of all types. Men tip their hats to one another when passing in the streets. Race? Color? Creed? The people here wear blinders to that sort of thing. Preferring to live their simple lives, in a simple way. Coming in to town is a trip. An adventure. Something to be looked forward too. Not something that is a chore. Nothing politicized. The solitary blight upon the city? Once upon a time there was a notion to modernize the pore downtrodden yokels of Fawcett City. Walden thought to put his latest Wal-Mart up. To this day it remains a standing lot of emptiness. A sign that this is a people not to be disturbed, to be put upon, by the ways of the world beyond their simple day.
So then. It should come as no small surprise, that such a place would call to such people as Cassie Sandsmark or Freddie Freeman. Yet, through a miracle of fate or happenstance. This is where our intrepid heroes have found themselves. One brought here by the drawing of a strange lure perhaps. Unknowing, truly, why he was even at such a strange place in the middle of the States. Another sent here directly by ominous watching friend who happens to style himself more oracle than bird these days.
So then what are the chances of each of them being in that town. That exact moment. When that hayseed town experiences something most peculiar. It starts with nothing so convoluted as a swirling storm. Rolling in like a texas twister. The sky darkens in moments, perhaps in spite of weather men’s most assured predictions to the contrary. Amidst the sky-gazing denizens, rushing about their business. Each scurrying for a shop, a restaurant, a bank, whatever they’ve come to town for without their umbrellas, comes a single thing more shocking than the surprise storm of the century.
Lightning crackles the sky. Yet, it is no thunder strike that sends alert sirens in to the air. That’s the sound of the explosion at the Fawcett City Bank.
Cassie: I’ve been a lot of places in my seventeen years, in a lot of different countries, on nearly every continent, civilized cities, and forgotten ruins. I think I can pretty safely say that I’ve never, ever been to Fawcett City. Not even on the Fabulous Summer College Scouting Road Trip because lets face it, the place isn’t exactly known for what I’m looking for in higher education and it’s absolutely everything that Conner Luthor’s not going to want to be around. No experiences to experience or I guess more correctly none he hasn’t already had psi-jacked into his head thanks to the clowns that were responsible for his ‘formative years.’ I have a lot of things I might like to say to them at some point, but I guess he also wouldn’t be the same Conner I’ve got now without them. That could be a good or bad thing but either way, he’s not the point right now.
He’s not with me. As a matter of fact, I’ve snuck off without him quite on purpose and it didn’t exactly require Tim’s advice for me to see why that might be the best way to go about this. He’d organized the diversion and I hadn’t asked, but I have to assume that it’s worked. I made it all the way here without a speeding blur overtaking me brimming with curiosity about what the hell I thought I was doing. I actually feel a little guilty about the whole thing, to be honest, especially since I haven’t brought my phone with me either. You don’t need super-vision to use a ‘find my iPhone’ function.
Not guilty enough to stop or turn back though. In fact, I’m feeling pretty damn determined today, thanks in no small part to the way life’s been going lately. Not bad. Just. Not quite what I want, either. So. Here we are. Fawcett City. I’m glad I wore jeans and a teeshirt or I might really stick out. More than a new face is always going to stick out. The krakoom of an explosion makes me pause in my rather aimless ambling down the walk, though. That sound means trouble, and I don’t need my little bird chirping in my ear to tell me that’s probably where I need to go. So I put tennis shoes into high gear, still on the ground at least for the moment, and aim for the sound.
Freddy: Exactly why had Freddy come? He was here to visit his grandfather. Fawcetty City was a second home to him. A place he could come to escape the madness of the world and the journey that he had been set upon. His world had been turned upside down some time ago, but it was finally beginning to right itself. Less topsy-turvy and more pear shape.
Whether or not one knew which was easier to handle Freddy decided that it was pear shape. Topsy-turv was terrible time for him. It was the dark period where down was up and left was right. Nothing made sense as he stood in the hallway remembering the words of the doctor as he was told that his grandfather was no longer with them. He had passed on to a better place.
What better place was there Fawcett City. That is what his grandfather would say more often than not, but at the time, at that point in his life Fawcett City had lost its shine. It dimmed a bit through no fault of its own. All that was left in his life had been taken away.
Bitter and angry. Those were words that had never entered is mind. He was the typical All-American kid, star player on the baseball team. Things were supposed to get better. This wasn’t supposed to happen, but that’s life. It knocks you down not with a push but with a punch to the gut and then it’s up to you to get up and keep going or wallow there in the dirt as everyone walks on by.
Never for a million years did he think that he would be where he was. Yet, he made a promise, to his grandfather and to himself. He needed a moment to steady himself. He was so close the trials. He had been so consumed with them, but as he was reaching the end he knew that he needed to talk to his grandfather. He needed to focus himself. He also needed to talk to the only person he knew that would keep his secret which truly gave a morbid spin to the, Two can keep a secret if one of them are dead.” adage.
Still, that’s exactly what he had done. He been speaking with his grandfather for almost an hour. He needed to catch up he needed something that was a steady in his life. Talking to his grandfather was probably the one constant that had not changed it just took him a while that’s all.
He was still going over what he shared with his grandfather while he headed down the main thoroughfare in the city. It’s not that Fawcett City was small, but it wasn’t huge. Depending on where you were headed you could usually get there by foot and if need be by bus. He hadn’t gone to the house instead he decided to stay in a hotel which is where he was on his way too when the storm system began to develop.
True twisters did seem to come together quickly, but there was nothing in the forecast about it. That was rather odd, but what bothered him more was the sound of an explosion that came from the direction of the bank. Explosion. Fawcett City? Before he knew it he was taking off as quickly as he could to see what happened. He already felt his heart pounding in his chest. Adrenalin. Still explosion things like that happen in Fawcett City.
It was like Riverdale. Obviously Freddy had not watched TV in the last year.
ST: It is a stark contrast. The way in which Heroes such as Cassie and Freddie rush towards danger. While those of a far more average ilk rush away from it. There is never a more pronounced sense of just that as now. When the average every day citizen of Fawcett City would look to keep themselves and those they love safe. Not to say that they’re cowards! There is, even if in small amounts, Heroism in the way that Father’s rush their sons in to the truck. Or how mothers scurry their daughters in to the relative safety of the General Store. But there is a very noticeable lack of people, rushing toward the bank other than Cassie, Freddy and the piercing siren of FCPD.
As the Heroes approach the site of the explosion the sight before them is nothing too shocking at first. Fawcett City’s bank is smoldering. Smoke swirls out of the shattered windows. A cordon of police have begun to blockade the building. A light rain keeps the embers of fire from lighting neighboring buildings ablaze, but the fire crew is on standby none the less. A particularly barrel chested man, who wears a slightly fancier uniform and carries a megaphone, is even then barking orders to the others.
‘Everyone back behind the lines.’
‘Stay calm. We’re dealing with the situation.’
‘Get the wounded in to the General Store, we’ll set up an infirmary until the ambulance get here.’
His commanding presence seems to bring calm to those in the area. As if this is a man who has ‘seen it all,’ so he doesn’t crack under pressure. But while the average Fawcett City citizen might take a good deal of hope from his display? The trained eye can tell that even the Chief is rattled. He’s not sure what they’re dealing with here. This is Fawcett City, stuff like this just doesn’t happen here.
The relative calm is soon broken, when the otherwise shattered front door opens to allow a single disheveled older woman to exit. Her hands are bound behind her. A single tether of rope, like a leash, allows her no more than a few feet of space out the door before she is stopped. Despite obviously having been in there, where the explosion happened, the woman remains remarkably calm.
“They say they’re not going to hurt us. They’re only here for the money. If we let them leave, they won’t hurt-… they won’t eat… anyone else.”
And that, my friends. Is the exact moment when the look on the Police Chief’s face says he has never dealt with anything like this.
Cassie: There’s a pretty big difference in the reactions of the people to what I’m used to. No, it’s not totally different from the way it goes in Metropolis. Anytime there’s some sort of disaster, or crime in progress, you can generally count on people to do exactly what I’m seeing the citizens here doing. Getting to safety, getting out of the way. Seeing to their family or to self-interest. Maybe I notice it more now that I’m involved, but lately? In Metropolis it seems like there’s more people moving towards the scene of whatever is happening. At first I thought it might be to help, and sometimes it is in fact that. First responders that can and will step in to help. But more and more, now that ‘Superman’ and ‘Wonder Woman’ have been stepping in? They gather to gawk as well.
I don’t know Fawcett City. I mean. I was provided with a map, because the TImBirdy is nothing if not excruciatingly thorough, but I don’t exactly need it. There’s only so many places to go, and the sound had been guidance enough. It means that at some point along the trip there? I catch sight of another blonde head moving towards the noise. He stands out because like me? We’re trout moving upstream. But it’s also a face I’ve seen a picture of, and the whole reason that I’m here. As I arrive at the bank itself, and the smoke, I take in what’s going on. Robbery? Accident? The latter might seem more likely since the whole thing’s a bit dramatic for a place this size but… even Metropolis’ police force who are a lot more used to dealing with weird don’t really know what to do with it.
This guy sure doesn’t. And when the door opens, I shade my eyes from the rain to squint inwards. She’s ruffled but… too calm. I’ve got super powers and I would probably be freaking out a bit more than she is. Especially when she finishes the message with the correction of whomever’s in there not eating anyone. Eating? Well. That’s never good. Edging my way back a bit from my viewing spot, I start to circle around. They can probably only cover so much area, and I make a point to take my path past Freddy. To bump shoulders with him and mutter a ‘Sorry, excuse me’ as I go to find another way in.
If I can’t find another one already available? Well. It’s probably even easier to find an angle without as many eyes and to make one. Whether that’s yanked open door, or a dislodged window. Last resort would be a Cassie sized hole in the wall, but I’d prefer stealth over loud People Eating Triggering Ruckus.
Freddy: As he reached the bank he saw the perimeter being established. Emergency services had already arrived. When little happens in a town they were pretty Johnny on the spot. Police, firemen and the EMTs were already doing what they were trained to do. They were handling it.
The chief was there with his megaphone keeping the crowd clam. He projected the air of calm that everyone needed at the moment as Freddy took everything in from a slight distance. He didn’t want to rush head on only to find himself detained by the first responders. He needed to get a handle on what was happening around him, but he also needed to help.
Everything seemed by the book at least with how the emergency services were handling everything. Still the storm the explosion it all seemed to come together out of nowhere. Freddy gave it a bit more thought, but he was broken from that thought when the old woman came out of the bank with a tether of some kind.
Moving a little closer Freddy wanted to hear what she said and in the beginning it sounded like something out of a cop show or movie right up until it went all Walking Dead. Eat them? Nothing good could come of that. Nothing at all.
This couldn’t be a coincidence could it? Eating people? The same time he came to visit his grandfather’s grave? Things like this didn’t happen in Fawcett City. He didn’t know if something like that didn’t happen anywhere. Either way he doubted that they would be ordering up pizzas given the fact that they snacked on or devoured a hostage.
Freddy told himself to keep calm and focus. The last thing anyone could afford was for him to get too hyper or to panic. What was it that he had been told?
Charging in never a good idea. Instead he had to go for an alternate route. The blonde stepped back and ducked down the alley as he began to make his way to the back of the bank. How was he going to get in? Who he had to think of something right?
Of course he couldn’t do this as Freddy he needed an assist. As much as of an assist as he was going to get. When he was far enough away from the crowds he used what he had to help him.
“Shazam!” He called out and just like that it was still Freddy Freeman running, but he was moving far faster than he was before. He had two trials down. Wisdom and Speed. That he had on his side. Wisdom had to be the first. Gods suffered no fools so to speak. It was like unlocking the trials. Pass it and then you showed potential fail it then they would wait for another.
Speed proved useful, because it allowed him to do more than to move swiftly, but it did give him an idea, but he couldn’t remember if the bank had a sky light or an access point from the roof, but he could try to enter from the back. Back entrance then roof. That’s what he was working with for the moment. Hopefully he would make Solomon and Mercury proud. Sailor Mercury jokes aside. Though he couldn’t help it when he met the god himself. It just popped in his head.
ST: The bank is large, for Fawcett City. Being also the only bank in the City, because somehow the place has managed to avoid all of the incorporated points of interest that every other major destination has. Come to think of it, did anyone see an ATM machine around anywhere? And is that guy over there, using an actual telephone booth to call in the news story as it unfolds? Needless to say finding a ‘back door’ in to the Bank isn’t terribly difficult. Finding one that isn’t, at this point, at least marginally being monitored by the local constables? That’s a far tougher problem. While the Fawcett City PD might be a bunch of rubes when it comes to things like crooks who ‘Eat people’? They’re not new to their jobs and they seemingly do them fairly well.
What they can’t do, is cover the windows above their heads. No need to pull one out even. The explosion took care of that for the most part. Might not even need to fly, Cassie. Since there’s a fire escape leading right up to one. Just got to get past a couple of Deputies, who are watching it for potential escape efforts.
Of course. One moving at such high speeds isn’t going to have the trouble that Cassie has, in being unseen. Though it’s probably a good thing Solomon was on his side. As that would certainly tip off Freddy not to open that door on the roof. Not once he catches the sight of a small zip-line on the interior. Another Bomb. Rigged to blow in the even that the Police sent a team in that way. Leaving Freddy, much like Cassie, with only a couple real obvious hopes for entrance. That fire escape or the windows.
In the mean time the scene up front is not getting any better. The captive is giving off a list of demands. Not all of which are exactly out of the ordinary, but some….
‘They say, they want a Van. They want you to move the line back a thousand feet. No snipers on the roof. If they see even one they’ll eat… er.. kill a Hostage. Park the van up front. They’re taking two hostages with them. They’ll release those when they’re out of the City.’
Once inside the Bank? Well the scenery is quite different from the docile tones of the rest of Mayberry. With only three floors above ground, they all show signs of damage from the explosion. The top-most floor has the least, but it’s still obviously disturbed. Whether by those who caused all this or the effort to evacuate after the initial explosion. The second floor is more obvious in it’s damage. With the central floor collapsed, walls separating offices have caved in. Desks and debris little everywhere. Here there are signs of life though. In the form of near-horror story amounts of gore. Blood from injuries… or perhaps from people being eaten… is visible at nearly every turn. All signs point to the people on the second floor, those not caught in the explosion, being rounded up. Taken downstairs.
Visible through the enormous hole in the second floor is the lobby. Where debris causes a lot of hurtles in making out exactly what is visible. Still it’s not impossible to make out the Hostages. They’ve all been rounded up in the Bank’s main lobby. There too the floor has collapsed downwards, in to a basement. The Hostages show all the signs of visible duress. They’ve been through an explosion. Now they’re being held hostage. Some have seen their friends, co-workers, actually eaten by….
You actually have to see it to believe it. There’s four of them visible. Each standing at least seven feet in height. Their elongated snouts, long slooping tails. The clown mask disguises do —nothing— to conseal the fact that these men. These Crocodile Men. With their tommy guns and their mafia-style suits. Are terrorizing these people. At least one more is out of sight, most likely holding the tether of the Hostage that’s being used as a mouth piece. With yet more beneath, in the basement level where they’re no doubt raiding the vault.
Cassie: Getting past the deputies? Not really that hard, I don’t think. They’re watching for people coming out, not stopping other people from going in. Because really. Who in their right mind goes into a partially blown up building, with a hostage talking about demands of criminals that are apparently willing to eat you. Heroes and crazy people that’s who. Is this cannibals? Or something else? I actually hope it’s the ‘something else’ option because somehow that’s less creepy. Overall, it’s a mental picture I’m trying to dwell a whole lot less on.
While I’m not as fast as some other metas out there, I’m still fast. Getting faster, too. My powers may have triggered when I turned sixteen, but they clearly hadn’t shown up full force all at once. Probably a really good thing for me and everyone around me. So I bypass the fire escape, or at least most of it, by starting a little further down the alley. Running start that isn’t strictly necessary for me to scrabble up a nearby wall and then launch myself over, tucking my head to go in through the blown out remains of a window more for less impact noise than any real need of preserving myself. Acutely aware of the rustle of momentum that makes hair blow the way it shouldn’t. Most people probably wouldn’t know what that means. Most people don’t have superspeedy boyfriends that delight in using said powers. Someone faster than me just went past, and boy. I’m hoping it’s my new potential friend here.
The gore? The blood? That takes me from that little pre-action stage of antsy and determined, to angry and determined, and that’s a whole different side of Action Cassie. First though, is searching briefly and visually for anyone who hasn’t already been found by…
What the actual fuuuuuuu.… Yeah. Well. That’s a thing. Apparently. Gun wielding reptiles. Anyone close to me that can be ushered to safety? All I can really do for the moment is try to beckon them to a mostly safe corner of the place until I can come back. Sending them out the fire escape might get them shot. Down gets them eaten. And if there’s no one to immediately save? Then I guess there’s someTHING to fight. I’ll start up here on the second floor. Picking out a target away from the others if I can manage it to introduce to an over the head blow with some superspeed momentum behind it.
Freddy:Upon seeing that the back was being covered by the police Freddy backed himself away and quickly got out of sight moving as swiftly as the speed he had been endowed with allowed him. He also used it to give him the edge he needed to get to the roof. Whether it was a leap or flight he wouldn’t tell. He didn’t land hard, touching down light as a feather. Scanning the area which did have an access route, but nothing he wanted to tamper with. He saw the zipline. He seemed to be moving faster than normal even here as there was a chance that the police could be watching the roof for signs of movement. That’s the last thing he wanted. With that in mind he continued move quickly trying be as much of a blur as he could.
That might what he might need to do to keep people from seeing or recognizing him. Freddy never pushed himself to see how fast he could go, but right now he was about to try and see while he decided that he would enter via a different route. Windows here he comes. He slipped off the edge disappearing to land gently on the fire escape. It was right at this point that he thought he might need a mask of some kind, but that was neither here or there at the moment as he slipped through the window of the third floor.
Once inside Freddy took a moment. He couldn’t let the adrenalin get the better of him. He paused briefly to take in the surroundings. No real damage, structural or otherwise. He moved to the stairs pausing as he heard voices below him more like people nervous and upset and probably hurt obviously. He waited until the voices were fair enough away before he made his way down the stairs so he could get a read on the second floor which was none too good.
A bomb. Someone set off a bomb. Seriously wasn’t that a bit of overkill there? Why a bomb? He moved down the stairs quickly making sure not to disturb anything as the huge gaping hole that was once part of the floor gave him the line of sight he needed. He paused to take in what he was looking at while trying to keep out of sight.
Given what he had been told and shown gun toting reptiles weren’t too out of order, but it didn’t make sense. They had guns. Also, why the clown masks? It’s not like there’s a lot of croc men walking around. He didn’t even want to get into the fact that they were eating people. You had to remove the mask for that.
Still he waited, but he saw that he wasn’t alone. He could try to get her attention, but with the hole the crocpeople down below might see. Think Freddy. There was a possibility that there could be another bomb. That’s always a possibility. Not to mention that they had hostages. They made for easy targets. Not like Freddy was super-durable. Not there yet.
What he wouldn’t give for a distraction.
ST: There’s not a lot left of the second floor by the time our heroes arrive. Those too injured to be scuttled downstairs were among those whom got… well.. eaten. Those who weren’t eaten or hustled downstairs? Are more or less scared completely shitless. Putting her at risk of discovery, more so than of any real aide. In fact it’s at the point when she’s trying to cajole the first person she’s found, when one of the would-be captors comes looming ’round a corner. Snout up, extended, tracking like a predator in the wild.
Someone hasn’t watched Crocodile Hunters. The precision needed to strike a crocodile and knock them out is one that takes years to learn. Oh, Cassie has the raw strength in spades. Certainly enough she makes a resounding thud upon the skull of the suit-wearing, tommy gun toting, mobster of a Crocodile. But instead of the resounding victory that she thought perhaps to engender? Well. Her surprised captive goes from shocked, to hurt, to angry all in the span of her single punch. There’s good news at least. At least he didn’t reflexively squeeze the trigger and alert the others. On the flip-side, there’s a little bad news. Call being bitch-slapped by a Crocodile Man’s tail.
Which apparently packs a pretty good punch. Not a Superman level punch, but the sort of punch that leaves Cassie more offended than injured. Because. Frankly. She just got bitch-slapped by a tommygun toting crocodile man. The real threat comes only heart-beats later, when those long, strong, jaws open to bite her.
Hey, Freddy wanted a distraction? Well he gets one in spades then. Because those wide opening jaws looking to take a bite out of Cassie? Sets off the young woman she’d been trying to rescue. Who needs a gun to go off when you’ve got the Kim Basinger-type of wail of a scared young woman. ‘He’s going to eat you!‘ It’s more screech than scream. And well. So much for the element of surprise now, Cassie Sandsmark. Now it’s a lot more about the NOM NOM of Crocodile Men.
‘Great. Sylvester’s eating another one! Aunty Minerva’s gonna be pissed.’
Cassie : Someone doesn’t watch reality television, no. Or much television at all, really. Someone spent enough time in areas with regular reptiles to know to be wary of where they might be lurking, what they do to you when they strike and where to actually aim for if you’ve got the peace of mind to do so once you’ve gotten yourself chomped. Of course, I’m not exactly sure here how many of those characteristics and tactics I ought to count on being in play just now. Because these are … I don’t even know what these are. We’re sticking with Crocomaggia for the time being. My punch is less effective than I might actually like it to be.
Not a position I’m used to being in anymore, actually. And if that hadn’t put me a little off balance along with the whole walking talking Reptar thing? Then I might have better anticipated getting tail slapped. My chain of reactions isn’t all that different from what his had been. Shocked. Irritated. More angry than I had been already. Flinching slightly over the screeching of the hostage, I don’t have the time to shush her. I probably shouldn’t bother anyway. If they think he’s just eating another helpless person then it seems, from the blood and the talk, that they’re probably not going to bother interrupting.
Auntie Minerva? Weird as all this is I’m not going to call that a coincidence. It’s just a detail that’s less important at the moment than the jaws and teeth coming at me. So I lunge inwards, their height difference from mine giving me room under the jaws to throw my arms around in the best choke hold I can muster. If all else fails? It gets my hands a whole lot closer to where I can gouge at one of the very few weak parts on this kind of critter in the ‘real’ world. The eyes. It’s also a whole lot harder to get bitten or tail slapped from this vantage. One hopes, at least.
Freddy:Eyes are the vulnerable points. It could cause more problems than solve to get in the middle of the commotion and it could cause more problems, but at the moment it seemed that they had their distraction, but he was aiming for something that would allow him to get the other hostages out free and clear. There were a few ways that they could go about this, but at the moment it seemed that they had their hands full on the second floor here.
Screaming woman. Another who seemed to be able to take a hit and give them all the same. Things were getting dicey there needed to be a way they to round up the crocodile men without causing more damage. There was the hole in the floor, the first floor. That’s when Freddy moved into action. Don’t fail him now Mercury. He moved as fast as he could pushing himself. Fast like lightning? They were going to put that to the test.
“Go for his eyes.” He told the blonde girl..young woman. No time to be PC! He burst into action moving as quickly as he could to pull the gun from the Sylvester is? Hoping that Cassie’s attack would cause him not to grip the gun tighter. He might not be able to snatch. He needed the gun out of the way, because if she did go for the eyes that might cause him to react with a spray of bullets.
Also, who uses Tommy Guns? What movie did they walk out of? Still he had to see if the speed would let him move quick enough not only to snatch the gun and allow the young woman to get a few blows in he hoped to get the screaming woman out of the line of fire and out on the fire escape and then they could decide what to do about the other crocs.
ST: The creature that Cassie has engaged is not all that different than the creatures Cassie has a bit of experience with. Though she was never the one actually putting the skills to use of fighting off a crocodile. There’s certainly small differences. Like the longer bipedal legs that carry these creatures around. Leaving short, stubby arms, which carry the signature weapon of choice. Which is either by design or luck, still not going off. Even when Cassie lunges in close, ducking inside like a prized boxer to get under the natural defense of the larger creature seeking to bite her. A choke hold isn’t all that difficult to lock in to place either.
It’s really what happens -after- that, which is important. First is that Cassie realizes why the gun hasn’t gone off. The way it shatters in to a thousand little plastic pieces after Sylvester cracks her on the skull with it? Speaks to it being nothing more than a prop or a toy. That’s what Freddy confirms moments later when he takes that gun away from the creature.
Then there’s the density of the throat she seeks to choke out. Oh, she’ll win that fight. But before she does? She and Sylvester are going for a ride. Because in order to clamp down her godly strengthened arms, she’s got to be close. Too close to stop his tail from curling around her as well. And then… well you probably guessed it.
Gator Roll.
Well. Freddy wanted a distraction. Right? Nothing more distracting than two fully grown people, one of which is a seven foot tall crocodile man, wrastling on the floor. Rolling around. Crashing through desks, debris… she’s heeding the advice of Solomon though. They eyes happen to be a very prime choice. One that makes someone new howl in pain. Sylvester himself. So much for the others thinking this was a harmless snack. Apparently Sylverster picked a snack that fights back.
Between the gouging of the eyes, which forces Sylvester to defend his eyes with those short little stubby arms. And the fact that he’s unable to keep rolling. It leads to Cassie’s original plan working a lot better. Slowly choking the Crocodile Man down. All the while Freddy follows through getting the one captive out the fire escape window. Causing a commotion outside when the Police officers take notice of the terrified woman. In turn. This changes everything.
‘The jig is up boys. They’re on to us. Time for plan B. Kill the Hostages.’
Cassie: There’s a grunt from up under the GatorMan’s jaws that could be an affirmative. It could also be something a lot ruder than that, but the truth is I’m kind of occupied and don’t want to untuck my head long enough to answer clearly. A head that’s a whole heck of a lot harder than the plastic toy that breaks on it instead of the other way around. It’s something I’ve experienced before, though the last time it was cruel torturous teenage girls and not …these things. Of course, in that case? I had to pretend it hurt and I also couldn’t throttle them in return. This time I don’t have to be effected at all, and my fingers can rake and claw.
And. Then we’re rolling. This part I at least expected but after getting tail pimp slapped it’s a whole lot less startling, and a little rolling and wrestling I can manage. I don’t have enough of a peripheral view to really even get dizzy from the tumbling or the smashing. It’s not the cat fight that someone might have fantatsized about between me and my high school nemesii but then… we’re all girls at St. Mary’s. At least. Far as anyone knows. This I can do all day. The only really dismaying thing, as the thrashing slows and I clench my arms harder, is the call I can hear from downstairs. The racket outside. We’ve got to get those people out and now. Before anyone else gets eaten.
The pause that I take before extricating myself from Sylvester, and from the latest pile of debris that we’d rolled into, is to call out to Freddy. As well as to reach under the neckline of my teeshirt and press a fingerprint to the ‘bauble’ I wear there. Activating not only my custom designed and technologically crafted ‘costume,’ but the facial alteration as well.
“Keep getting them out!”
Now’s the time to be a whole lot less sneaky. That ship’s definitely sailed anyway so there’s really zero subtlety in the way I descend to the first floor, and a whole lot more dropping my weight, backing the falling up with flying, so that I thunk into the floor crouched and ready to move. If Conner were here? I’d definitely not be doing this. He’d probably claim it’s his pose, the Superman Landing but… he’s not and while I’d never say it to his face he’s right. It’s definitely impressive. And I need to get all the attention that I can right now. All attention on the sudden descent of Wonder Woman is not on chomping hostages.
Now that I know I don’t have to be concerned about the guns, and what they might do to other people?
“Which one of you amphibians is next?”
I know they’re not amphibians. In fact, my brainy brain is cringing over even uttering those words.
Freddy:The gun cracking and shattering was unexpected, but it explained a lot. As did the clown masks to a point. It was unexpected, but it drew together a few things in his mind. When he got his hands on the gun he looked it over dropping it so he could get the woman out. There were the other hostages, out. Was he that fast? Was there another bomb?
The bomb was a distraction? Perhaps it was the blood and guts that caused them to eat the hostages. Much like blood in the water for a shark they couldn’t resist. They can’t kill them with the guns so eating them was always the fall back plan. Still how many were there? He didn’t now.
Getting the woman out was a gamble. He didn’t suspect that the police would make a big to do about. It could have been a quiet affair. However, it was more like the gator roll which may have happened regardless.
If he had the strength he might have used Sylvester in hammer toss towards his brothers? Cousins? Other Crocthugs? Cassie was already making an entrance which could work to his advantage as he moved as quickly as he could making his way down to the floor deciding to remain grounded but using the speed to begin moving the hostages out of the area going for the closest exit whether it be backdoor, window or possible whole. If Cassie kept the attention on her then maybe they wouldn’t notice the hostages being moved out of danger.
Sadly this meant that Cassie was crocbait, but it also meant that she was currently the star of the show. Worst show ever, but still.
ST: “Amphibians! Who are you calling Amphibians!?”
Apparently one of the group is smart enough to know the difference. That also happens to be the one holding the ‘leash’ for the Hostage that had been outside. Playing the part of mouth piece for the group. What’s more impressive than Wonder Woman’s landing? Is that it actually doesn’t strike fear in to the hearts of Men. Not even Crocodile Men. They’re not even phased by her arrival. In a way it’s a little insulting, because they actually seem more concerned about the Barney Fife squad outside than the honest to goodness super-heroine that just landed in their midst.
Or perhaps they’re just a little more concerned about something else. Something other than Superheroes or Cops. That it keeps them on point. Pushes them forward. In any case, Cassie’s landing has one of the desired results. The remaining four Crocs aren’t making a move on the Hostages. Instead they’re forming a kill circle around her. While their ‘Boss’ heads for the basement, his singular hostage in tow. Leaving Mr. Freeman all the time in the world (or at least as much as Cassie could buy him) to extradite the Hostages at a super-fast pace.
How long he’d have to make that effort? Well that entirely depends on how long Cassie can square off against four full-sized Crocodile Men.
“Is he dead?”
“I think he pulled his barmy eye out!”
“Shouldna oughta done that miss.”
“Yaaah. Now weze gotta eat youse.”
Cassie: “That doesn’t seem like a very fair trade-off.”
I’m not about to let them eat me, of course. I don’t even want to risk letting one bite me, because there’s a downside to being smart enough to put two and two together on things like this. It means that I’ve taken what it felt like to get tail whipped by the first I ran into, and I’ve started to calculate the force that a regular crocodile’s bite would muster and multiply it by…whatever these things are. I feel like maybe my good buddy Red Robin should have prepped me for clown mask wearing, man-crocs with toy Tommy Guns but lets face it. I wouldn’t have believed him. I have a feeling that if I get home and decide to tell Conner about it? He won’t either. But being able to wing it in the ‘field’ is a big part of this job. I’m not always going to have a dossier of facts and tidbits, and I’m not always going to be in a place like this on purpose. Sometimes it’s just going to happen.
The important thing is as long as I’m distracting them? They’re not eating civilians, or interfering with Freddie getting them out. There’s just the one being led to the basement that I’ve got more pressing concerns about. Eyeballing the circling Crocs, I’m waiting for them to make a move, for even one of them to move in towards me, then I can drop my shoulder like I”m falling to the floor, I just never quite hit it so much as take off from that vantage. Aiming to take my opponent out at his very low knees and carry on through. There’s got to be a desk or a downed bit of architecture I can use for a baseball bat. Unless they all move at once, then it’s just straight up and out of the way. At least until what goes up comes down again right on top of them.
Freddie: Freddy moves as quickly as his feet will carry him. He moves through the lobby making sure that he can get his hand on every hostage that was in there while remaining alert. He said nothing as he went about this. There was one hostage that wasn’t gathered by the others. The hostage that was sent out to speak for the crocs was missing. He wanted to snip the line do whatever, but she was gone.
He was worried. Why was he pulling her away? Freddy had to prioritize. The others came first and if he was fast enough he would follow the other down into the pit. He didn’t like it, but he would take the moment to push himself even faster if that was possible to grab what he thought could be helpful from the walls. He grabbed the fire extinguishers. This was Fawcett City. Sure, they probably had a sprinkler system, but they probably had extinguishers. Not one of those dinky extinguishers either. Time stopped here why would they start thinking about getting little ones. Besides in times like this you use what you could and it wasn’t like he could lift a vault and drop it on anyone…yet, that would take too much time. Use what you got and those are the things that caught his eye.
“Catch!” He called out tossing one of the extinguishers to Cassie while he used one he still had to try and take one of the crocs on his way towards the stairs. Moving as fast as he was he wasn’t going to try to punch him He didn’t want to know what might happen but he would swing and hit as he moved as fast as he could, hoping that he would leave Wonder Woman (ok so he watched some TV) with one less Croc to worry about.
Of course, this was all depending on if he didn’t get tripped up and could be a be as helpful as he could be. Save hostages, take a croc and try to intercept another before whatever plan B was initiated. Sure he could do that maybe.
ST: What Cassie finds out soon enough is that this is one of those rare situations where the ‘Bad Guys’ aren’t actually as dumb as they look. Or rather, that they’re not quite as unschooled as they look. It might not even be that they’re smart, but it should be readily apparent that these guys have hunted in a ‘Pack’ of sorts before. Cassie is waiting on them, but they’re not attacking. Not yet. They circle. During which, Freddy is surely all but ignored. But when they circle, it’s more like organized chaos than just chaos. A trained eye might even take note of the way they clue in to one another. With the main hunter among them giving non-verbal cues. A snuffle, a jerk of the head, a little twitching of the tail. One by one the Crocodile Men fall in to place.
When it happens? It’s sudden. It’s no singular attack either. More like a layering of attacks that come all at once. One goes in, low and teeth first. While another flicks it’s tail in to the air high to deny her leaping out of the way. Those two attacks happen at once, but as soon as Cassie moves (tipping her hand), two more join the fray. Each one picking a different angle. These guys are trained and clearly of a predatory variety of villain. They don’t hold back, suggesting that they don’t have any compulsion against murder in the most bloody forms. By the time all Six have attacked, Cassie is going to be all but dogpiled by snapping jaws, teeth, claws and tails.
But there is definitively good news in all of this for Cassie. Freddy was very helpful. His tossed fire extenguisher is snatched out of the air by a set of jaws that rip is asunder. Spraying high-density, fire extinguishing and oxygen eliminating foam all over the lot of them. By which means that I hope Cassie can hold her breathe. Y’know. Longer than your average Crocodile.
Meanwhile, Freddy’s only real hurdle in all of this? Happens to be that ‘snatching’ one of the Crocodile Men, even at high speeds, is a little like grabbing a brick wall at a few hundred miles an hour. Sure, you might take the Croc with you when you go. But boy are you going to feel that in the morning, with the whole lack of super-strength to compensate. But, it’ll work. Even disorient the Crocodile Man enough to not instantly surge in to attacking.
For the time being neither Cassie, nor Freddy are really able to get a free trip down in to the basement to follow the last remaining hostage. Speaking of! With Freddy having saved most of them, the Cops outside no longer have any reason not to intrude upon the bank itself. As if being in a bank with a tremendous amount of structural damage wasn’t bad enough? The lights go out and the interior of the bank is bathed in spot-lights. You know the type that blind perps right before a tactical team breaches…
Cassie: I’m not used to fighting like this. I’m not ashamed to say it. I don’t have any reason to have learned to do so, because most of my training so far has come from sparring against my boyfriend, and that’s a one on one sort of situation. He’s much faster than me, so sometimes it can feel like more than one. But it’s not like there’s a contingent of practice dummies up in Canada where we go to throw punches at one another, not that can come back at me in any sort of tactical way. But it’s not that hard to figure out what’s going on here. Especially not if you’ve seen pack animals at any point in your life. That’s just not behavior you normally attribute to a crocodile.
I’d thank God (a God) that I’m as sturdy as I am, except we’re not really on speaking terms right now. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here but…just the same. The only advantage possibly to being dogpiled is that it makes it that much harder for them to get me instead of one of their own. Where I don’t have to worry about who I’m kneeing, punching, or clawing at. It’s mostly a lot of kicking. Trying to get some room, gouging if it feels like I’ve got hold of anything soft. The help from the other blonde sails my way but I have no chance to grab it before it’s chomped, and then the world goes white and thick. Fortunately I can hold my breath a very long time, but there’s still a sense of panic that kicks in if you’re not prepared. I haven’t had my powers long enough for them to become entirely natural to me.
Unfortunately? I bet I can’t hold it as long as a Crocodile can. They’re designed for that kind of thing, and that means that my kicking and wriggling my way free of the pile on takes on that much more of a sense of urgency. No longer just fighting to be a distraction, but digging a bit deeper because I don’t especially want to die today.
Freddy: The explosion from those crocman jaws. That was unexpected perhaps at another time it might be comical. He didn’t wince, no time for wincing. When a crocodile, saltwater crocodile bite they slam their jaws shut with 3700 pounds per square inch or 16,460 newtons. So, they were more than capable of doing just that. He was just trying to give Cassie something to use a bludgeon the crocs with.
When hit the croc. He felt it. He knew he felt it. Thank God for adenalin maybe. He took a moment to use his extinguisher while the croc was disoriented. He could spray a little in its eyes blind it. It can’t be fun can it? Just get it out of the mix. He kept going to try and evade become croc chow. He had to deal with that, but there was the fact that two things happened as he made his round again to put some distance between him and disoriented croc.
His fellow blonde in arms was being crocpiled. “Wiggle free!” He called out. They were covered in extinguisher foam. Maybe it was you know slippery. Like that foam party he went to in New York. He didn’t add that part, because no one needed to know about that. However they were all wiggling about he might be able to work her way free.
Second thing. Lights went out. Crap. He knew what that meant. Power was cut. They were ready to rush in and do whatever and he still didn’t know what that other croc up to. Plan B. Possibly bomb! His mind went there. There was a hole in the floor. Easy access right? But into what? Possible getting dinged on the way down, but he didn’t want to abandon the other especially if the cops were about to come in like gangbusters.
“Coming in hot!” was what he got in as he used the speed to launch the second extinguisher as hard as he could. He was going to be out of it tomorrow and the next. She was underneath she was protected, but whoever was on top?
This was a total Hail Mary, Jesus and Joseph on Freddy’s part as he continued to road runner his way through this. He couldn’t get to close, because he saw what happened with the first extinguisher. He didn’t want to get snapped in half. Also please let his am be true. Croc not blonde. Croc not blonde.
ST: When you’re surrounded by five different people and they’re all trying to kill you? It’s easy to hit one of the bad guys. Finding something soft though? Is an effort in futility, when you’ve got very little time to actually make your strikes. If only you were the one blessed by the God of Speed, Cassie. Alas, wrong baby daddy. All you’ve got is immense power, strength and ….
CHOMP!
“…ow!…”
That crunchy sound brings, if only momentarily, everything to a halt. Crocodile Men looking for some sense of satisfaction. Cassie looking for a missing limb, where her arm hands out of a Crocodile Man’s mouth. None of them finding what they want. Because apparently her arm is more dense than Crocodile Man teeth. Not so dense as to not -already- be bruising from the force of the attack, but enough so that one of the Men is stumbling back and away holding his jaw. Cracked teeth and more than a little blood covers Cassie’s arm. Whether Luck or Favor from the Gods, it’s not her own. Yet.
You might think that was enough to actually put a spark of fear in to the hearts of Crocodile Men. Though, you’d be wrong. They don’t exactly see this as a failure on their part. It’s not the broken teeth, jaw or pain in their comrade that gets in to their minds. It’s the fact that the force of one bite bruised the Heroine almost immediately. So that means enough bites just might make it through! It’s all but a feeding frenzy then. Of them taking, soaking Cassie’s punches, her kids. Wrestling with her. Because each time she has her focus on one, even two of them, there’s -three- more to bite her somewhere. Over and over.
Correction. Two more. Since Freddy’s aim is definitely true. Call it the ‘Luck’ of Solomon this time. But there happens to be one stationary Croc in the midst of all of this. The one with the broken Jaw. He takes the vaulted extinguisher right to the side of the face, sending him sprawling away. His other comrade is thrashing about, raking at his eyes from Freddy’s quick thinking too. Leaving Cassie with a mere four Crocodile Men and one large opening chance to ‘escape.’ If that was her goal.
This is the end of our good news Champions. Because this, is also, when the first of the smoke bombs comes careening through the front windows in to the bank. As if the Cop’s thought, ‘Let’s add some fun tear gas to the mix of fire repellent, explosions and crocodiles.’
Cassie: “….huh.”
It’s a thought, more than a spoken word or syllable. Maybe a grunt of pain because it did actually hurt, more than the tail smack in the face had for sure, but a wiggle of my fingers shows that it’s clearly still attached, and I’m fairly sure that all that blood? Is not mine. I’m not going to bank on that happening every time, if I had faith in that scenario it’d make this a whole lot easier because I’m betting I could find all sorts of tender parts down past the jaws and into those giant maws of theirs. The whole thing would probably be fairly comical if it weren’t me right in the middle of it, and the rest of them didn’t seem to think it was an excellent time to redouble their biting efforts instead of being a little more wary about the whole thing.
The blinding lights were an issue, though not as much of an issue as they might have been if I needed to aim my attacks. The bounces of the grenades coming in? That’s another story. Part of me is actually very concerned for the armed men outside, more than I am for myself really, but I’d have to hope they just won’t get close enough to get bitten. This also isn’t over, so while I’m ‘escaping’ it’s not to retreat so much as to move onto a smaller fight. Wiping at my face with the bloodied arm, if no other reason than it’s had most of the retardant chomped off it with crocodile slobber, I rocket upwards again through the hole into the second floor, but that’s only to get a better angle to twist and shoot back down again. This time angling for the entrance to the basement.
I’d cart Freddy with me but honestly he could probably get there way before me.
Freddy:Thankfully it landed. He didn’t know if it was luck or all the years of baseball perhaps a little of both. However, it was the first time that he actually had to launch an extinguisher like that. Bright lights meant razzle dazzle. They meant to daze and confuse. Lights out then emergency lights on then the the sounds of grenades coming in releasing tear gas. If this was all for him he would have done a funneling technique of some kind, but this was for the crocs and they could have it.
He had no idea how they would react it to it, but it was best to disengage now, and trust that the cops got the 411 from the hostages and didn’t think that they were simply hysterical on wacky weed talking about crocodile men.
“Right behind you.” He called out as he careened around heading towards the basement stairs. Whatever was waiting down there for them they would have to deal with it, because it was about to get ugly on the first floor.
Just keep going beat the gas and down the stairs. Hopefully, the Wonder Woman would be able to give him a heads up if they were heading in to trouble you know beyond the obvious trouble that they knew was waiting down there for them.
ST: Cassie’s escape in to the air casts all eyes upwards in time to see the smoke grenades coming in. In turn that keeps them from restoring their focus upon her, so there’s no immediate pursuit or efforts to stop that escape. However, there’s a bit of stroke to the bad luck for the first time then. As Freddy, Cassie -and- the Crocodile Men all start at the hole at the same time. Now, this might otherwise be a humorous little clusterfuck, but in this instance both of our heroes make use of the one true edge they have upon the Crocs. Speed.
Behind them a grotesque glut of Crocs all hit the blown out hole all at once. Four of them. Leaving a slightly humorous sight of the four crashing in to the same point, then finding themselves mostly caught there by their own mutual girth. As humorous as that might be, moments later the Police storm the building behind them. And frankly, they’re rather lucky only to have one functional, though blooded and jaw-broken, Crocodile Man to deal with.
Beneath the surface of the Bank, it is almost exactly what you might imagine. The first basement is mostly security, but beneath that is the vault. Which is where the explosion has actually come from. If they stop to ponder that, they might wonder exactly why the explosion comes from inside the Vault. If the Crocodile Men were here to break in, to simply steal something, then wouldn’t they have been trying to break in to the vault? Curious, though nothing that either of the intrepid Heroes can hope to follow up on. Not when they finally catch up to the ‘Leader’ and his lone Hostage.
Except. That’s kind of when things take yet another sideways turn. Because it’s the ‘Hostage’ who’s rifling through safety deposit boxes. While the ‘Leader’ of the Crocodile Men keeps watch. Translating in to the final Crocodile Man seeing the Heroes coming. If anything else about anything in Fawcett City made a lick of sense, then it would probably be funny to see the Crocodile lifting the massive, unhinged vault door. Not to throw it or fight with it. But to pull it back in to place, in an effort to once more block the vault off.
Cassie: A couple things become immediately clear. That they’re not about to just let us run down here, which says that they really were a distraction upstairs as much as keeping everyone else outside out, with the flesh and bone shield of hostages. With the hostages gone, and the police coming in, they follow us down. Because either we’re the bigger threat? Except they never seemed particularly threatened by me. Irritated maybe, but not threatened. Or…
The ‘or’ solidifies as the real reasoning. The shape of the place says that this is where the bomb came from, and that means someone had to plant it here. Someone also would have hadto see these clowns coming in. Unless they didn’t come in off the street. My assumption is sewer. They are crocodiles after all, and there’s bound to be an access point. Maybe that’s what they blew up in the first place, or maybe it was the vault. Maybe both, really, because as I arrive I can see that it is, in fact, where the explosion originated.
It takes about half a second to look at the no longer tied hostage, who is also not eaten despite what went on upstairs for little or no reason, to the other crocodile, and then to narrow my eyes and move.
“Stop her.”
Throwing myself forward, I don’t go directly for the crocodile man. Not at first anyway. I go for the door in an attempt to yank it out of his grip. Perfect world? I can chuck it myself and very temporarily block the entrance to the basement, or at least bludgeon the hell out of the bottlenecked bad guys (since c’mon, clearly they can lift the thing). Worst case I can maybe keep him from getting it in place long enough for Freddy to grab the woman.
Freddy:As Freddy’s eyes took in the entire scene he started to try and formulate a potential hypothesis mind you all of this was happening while his feet moved across the ground making use of the superspeed he currently had his disposal as Freddy’s mind was going a mile a second at this point. Obviously from the look of things she was an inside man someone that could be used by the crocodile men to deliver what was possibly her message and be the innocent party if anyone ever caught up with her or herpes she never turned up because they wanted to use her a snack. If she wasn’t the only inside man so to speak.
Freddy recalled the message she relayed. ”… They’re taking two hostages with them. They’ll release those when they’re out of the City.” They could be taking her and someone else. That someone else could be in on or just to make it look good if something went bad and they thought the woman died or was still being held…probably the later.
Then there was the Aunty Minvera. Freddy assumed that she was waiting somewhere perhaps, but perhaps she was right here all along making sure everything went according to plan. Then there was the fact that the blast wasn’t end to the vault, but appeared to be within.
Blow the vault from within. Perhaps from a bomb that had been planted in something that the woman possibly placed in a safe deposit box. The vault was probably difficult to break into so why break in which would take time potential and require particular sets of equipment when you could blow it out from within while placing something in a box perhaps?
Too many Mystery Woman movies with gramps when he was alive, but regardless that’s what his brain fired off as he moved attempting to intercept the woman and rather than have her do something if he was lucky he moved swiftly to keep her off balance which could result in upchuck or her blacking out.
He was coming to save what he thought was a hostage, but she wasn’t a hostage. Innocent people were hurt. She was in on it. Freddy might be a little perturbed. Just a smidge.
ST: Cassie is good. She’s had a bad night, to be sure, but she’s good. Trained in how to use her powers by someone that knows a little too well. She’s quick, strong, but then you add in her brains. Don’t say this to her boyfriend, but it’s that combination which makes her actually dangerous. Maybe the Most Dangerous of the folks she’s set forth to bring together. All too quickly she’s getting the right of it. Seeing things for what they are. But then, she’d had an inkling at the very moment she saw the woman that first time didn’t she?
Getting to the broad vault’s door isn’t the problem. Over-powering the Crocodile Man to take it from him? Not the problem. What she does with it? Isn’t even the problem. The problem is when Freddy Freemen touches the woman. The Hostage. The petite little creature who had stood outside doting their demands. It’s at the very moment that he touches her, that Freddy realizes just how right he was. How right Cassandra was. Freddy learns a lesson that Solomon is even now whispering in his ear, Your speed isn’t always a weapon, sometimes it can be a weakness. Don’t act faster than you think. Take stock of the area. Use your speed to never get outflanked, not merely to race to the heart of a problem.
Because as his hand lays upon the woman, seeking to disrupt her. Seeking to disorient her. Seeking to do what has worked every other time to this point. This time? It goes horribly, terribly wrong. As the woman. Frail as she may seem. Doesn’t move. Doesn’t budge. Doesn’t so much as flinch when Freddy touches her. In fact, it’s Freddy who will find himself unable to move the woman. Like she’s rooted to the ground.
That? Is when Cassie problem knows shit is about to get real, because the Crocodile Man? Squeaks, before surrendering the vault door in an effort to escape in to the sewers. Like. Making with such haste, his little Clown Mask hits the ground before his squeak even clears the air.
Now. You might wonder what could scare a Crocodile Man so much? What could resist the speed of Mercury? Shazam? No, no. Not spoken like a command. Nor a trigger word. This sounds more like a Question. ‘Are you Shazam?’ Except that the answer is immaterial because Freddy is then introduced to the Strength of Hercules. When he is thrownback at Cassie with the force a kryptonian’s wet dream.
Cassie: You know what’s never going to be a good thing? When they run. I may not have the most practical experience, but I’ve seen enough movies and I have enough common sense to know that when you’re outnumbered by someone, or something, and they turn tail and bolt? It means something worse is coming, or in this case already there. Like little children skedaddling to the other end of the house when Mom or Dad’s found something they know they won’t like. It might be one on one, between me and the Crocodile Man right now, but that could change at any moment. I know it’s not me they’re worried about.
I sail backwards a bit in the air, because I was prepared to tug the door and I no longer need to. Pulling against nothing sets me back, before I turn the momentum into swinging that door into the other four before they join the fray in order to escape, or maybe to take the opportunity to get a little more bitey all over again. Either way, they’re not my problem any longer clearly. Not right now. What is? Is Freddy flying at me. Him hitting me? Isn’t going to do a hell of a lot to me, but me hitting him is going to be a little worse than splatting into a wall. So I catch him, doing my best to move with the force and cushion him a bit.
“Shazam? Is there more than one of you?”
Freddy: Freddy had it all worked out in his mind, but that’s when it all went sideways and upside down. One moment he’s trying to pull at her to do what needs to be done, but then she’s still there. Planted like a redwood. Then the all-important question. His eyes widening. He already knows the answer to everything before the question is fully formed in his mind.
“Oh shit!” He was hurled towards Wonder Woman with as much strength that Superman possesses. No if he had to think about it. Hercules. Strength, but if she had strength what else. He had Speed and wisdom, but she had strength. She could have any the others. When he was caught by Wonder Woman he offered a smile.
“Rival it seems or perhaps not.” He answered while he got down to the ground. This is… It was the first thing that he considered before he was set on his feet.
“Yes. I’m Shazam” He thought about launching himself at her, but at the moment he decided to err on caution, curiosity and a good deal of wisdom which as served him well for the moment.
“Keep one eye on the croc,” He told Cassie as Freddy listened to the voice that was quietly whispering in the back of his mind.
“Who are you?” This couldn’t be? Could it? Strength. She couldn’t be? She could be a rival. However, there was another possibility. “Hercules?” Not as in the strength of Hercules as in was he in there somewhere? Freddy mind wanted to wrap itself around that one, but he had to remain focused.
She didn’t speak the word to call upon the power there was no flash or anything. Freddy couldn’t afford to be confused. What he required right now was confirmation rival or Lord of Magic and if it was the latter what the hell was he doing breaking into a vault? All he knew was that the old woman was connected to the powers of Shazam of Captain Marvel, but how?
ST: Keep an eye on the Croc, really losea a lot of meaning when the ‘Leader’ of them is plunging through the hole that was punched by the original blast. Down in to the sewers, just as Cassie had surmised. Then there’s the others. Whom she threw the vault door at, but they’re currently dealing with the vault door itself. Which caused more of a physical hurdle than anything. Behind them? If one was to listen real hard, are the sounds of a near-militarily efficient tactical group moving in. The skirmish above is a short one, but that only means they move on to neutralizing the other Crocodile Men from behind. As they work to dislodge the door. Maybe they would have moved a bit more hastily, if they’d only know what was going on below.
You see, the Wisdom is Solomon is indeed correct. All is not as it appears. This petite, frail, woman, hadn’t actually called upon Shazam to empower. It had questioned Freddy. Before she then forced him to unhand her. No sooner had Freddy been discarded than the woman went back to it’s search. Pilfering through each of the little boxes, slowly. Time consuming, but it would seem the woman thinks herself to have all the time in the world in spite of what goes on all around her.
Perhaps this is just another part of the Trial then? His questions fall upon deaf ears. Or perhaps it is less that the woman is deaf and more than he’s said nothing of merit. Nothing worthy of a response. It would seem that she is quite consumed with her search.
What is far more important to Freddy, is not what the woman asks for. It is what his own inner voices begin to whisper. That she is familiar. That there is something about her that it recognizes. Her features are chiseled, her frame is slight. She seems elderly, but that in itself only makes her seem different. When looked at through the eyes of Solomon, she might seem younger. Far more beautiful. Egyptian, not sun battered. Ancient, not elderly. Much as Cassie had observed right from the start, this woman stands out as a misnomer. She appears to be elder, slight and was at one point a ‘Hostage.’ Yet from the beginning she seemed far too ‘in control.’ Then there’s the final clue. Which Freddy had remembered without Solomon’s help. They’d said two hostages. Not one.
“Ahh. Here it is,” having apparently just found what she was looking for. “Osiris! I’ve found you.”
Cassie: That Croc? He’s gone. And I am not about to chase him into the sewers where I’d be at a definite disadvantage. Fighting them on dry land had proved to be enough of a challenge for me. We haven’t exactly tested whether or not I can be drowned, and I don’t particularly want to find out today. Especially not in a sewer.
“A rival? Huh.”
I hadn’t had to fight anyone for my powers, but then there weren’t any trials, I was more or less ‘born’ this way. Something or someone just kept me from knowing it was all waiting until the ‘right’ moment. Once I’ve let him down, I hang back by the vault door almost absently leaning into the obstacle with one hand while blue eyes watch the woman askance, and Freddy from my peripheral vision. I don’t entirely know what’s going on. I had enough background intel to make me uncertain though. One assumes that if there’s a trial, that means a test and what happens if I interfere more with that? Or if I’m the one that does it. Does that matter? Or will that stop him from doing what he needs to do?
“Do I punch? Or not punch? Trying to take my cues from you now. I assume that her finding a God of the Dead is never going to be great for anyone concerned though…”
Not the. A. But I also have zero doubt they’re just as real. Look at me and where I came from.
Freddy: Freddy wasn’t sure what she might do, but the strength she possessed he was no match for and this was not something that would be settled through blows. He considered the possibilities as the woman seemed to forget him as soon as he appeared. The crocodile men. There had been a fleeting thought about them. Children of Sobek?
He looked upon the woman Solomon revealing to him things that he should have already known, but still the strength. She was a part of the power. He could feel it. It was one of those like recognizes like, but when she claimed her prize the realizations spilled upon his features.
“Isis.” He said the name loud enough for her to hear to draw her attention from her prize. Less he was completely off about this she has seemingly retrieved her husband. In Fawcett City? Daughter of Geb and Nut. Wife of Osiris. Mother of Horus.
“Not punch. I think she’s probably capable of going toe to toe with you. Actually I know she is. She possess the strength of Hercules.” Was it stolen to achieve this goal? Freddy didn’t run he walked over towards the woman. If he was right she found her husband.
Isis had done much to be reuniting with her husband, but this felt all wrong something was amiss to a degree ok several. “You’ve found him, but what of all the damage you’ve done. The crocs?” He wasn’t on top of her but close enough for him to notice and if she was going to lash out he was going to evade. He considered snatching up what she had in her hand, but if he could talk he would talk. The police were on their way a tactical team no doubt.
“You meant to escape with him. To release him from whatever prison he was placed in.” She knew who he was. Do they have to be enemies?
ST: Wisdom of Solomon indeed. It materializes in Freddy’s mind with such clarity. He is so very, very right. This woman, seemingly frail enough to break in a light breeze, is imbued with the power of Hercules. How that has come to pass is not immediately clear, but Solomon has put him upon the right path. There’s no denying the reaction Freddy gets from his line of questioning. She hasn’t already struck at him again, so she is either at ease with his presence or considers him a gnat to be swatted at leisure, as opposed to a threat to be worried about.
Once close enough, Freddy can see the pendant. A red jewel, encrusted in gold. Woven in to the shape of a Death Mask, for the God of same name. There is no mistaking it, actually. Especially not if you’ve half the knowledge of such things as Solomon or Cassandra Sandsmark. The elderly woman cradles it, bringing it closer to her breast.
Freddy’s question brings the first actual response to his presence, since she threw him like a paper airplane. “The Power of the Gods can be used for more than Championing. I need them. To bring him back. To bring me back.”
Not your normal sort of villainous monologue, actually. Though as the woman says this to Freddy, she also begins to turn. To finally take more stock of him. That is no doubt when Cassie, even faster than Solomon, gets a little tingle along her spine. There’s something more. Something Familiar about this woman, that she hadn’t felt before. Something a little closer to home than she’s ever felt before. Call it women’s intuition, call it a hunch, but Cassie can very much feel a presence that she is far more familiar with than she even knows.
“You. Have their powers. Yes. Come boy. Take my hand. Say his name. Call forth the Lightning.”
In this small chamber. A small vault in some city in the middle of no where. A place where nothing special ever happens. Stands the Speed of Mercury, the Wisdom of Solomon, in Freddy. The Strength of Hercules, in the creature Freddy has named Isis. If by chance then, she has one more of those powers, then what does Cassie’s presence here represent? Why have they all been called here, today, amidst the thunderstorm outside?
Cassie: “Hercules, huh? I’ve heard of him.”
He’s apparently my half-brother and all. I maintain my place, and my eagle eyed watch on the pair of them. I’m waiting for an excuse to do something else besides watch the door, but maybe I don’t need to do more than that. Gives me a little time to think over exactly what I’m seeing here, and what they’re saying. He’s calling her Isis. Is she really? And if she is, and I’m assuming he means she has the literal strength of Hercules, not just strength like Hercules… given that the figure in question had heritage not really any different than mine does that mean someday someone will have the Flight of Cassie?
…can’t say it’s really got the same ring to it. They’d probably insist on my full name for regality. The entire thing is pretty damn silly though, even in my own head, and so doesn’t take much thought or attention. Which leaves me squinting at the pair of them. What she actually has. Blue eyes widen, and then narrow all over again.
“Is that what I think it is? Why is it here of all places?”
None of this makes sense. But then, when you think about it, in traditional terms almost zero in my life does anyway. Then you add in crocomaggia, people invoking powers that weren’t necessarily theirs by birthright. Gods. Monsters. In the middle of Fawcett City. I can’t decide if I should ignore what he says and strike or not. But there’s something tickling at me, like I know her, but I have no reason to know her. Unless, maybe I’ve met her before and didn’t know it. Or maybe that’s just some sort of higher recognition. Divine calling to divine.
Freddy: Freddy was ordinarily the helpful sort, but something about this felt off. He hadn’t written her off as a rival, but this was completely unexpected. He took a few steps away from her quick steps denying her his hand. She could grip it and break every bone in his body until she got what she wanted.
“I don’t think it’s a call I should make. How about you do it yourself. Intermediaries are so impersonal.” He said still taking quick steps back probably faster than he needed, but enough to put some space between them until he was near Cassie once again.
“Gods aren’t imprisoned for no reason.” Unless there was a bit of business going on with the Egyptian Pantheon, but that was neither here or there. “What have you done with Hercules?” He asked. He would not freely give her the power. It doesn’t feel right. She powered her way into this place.
Isis brought her husband back from the dead once, but now she wished to do it again. Freddy was getting a bad, bad feeling about this. If she had Hercules’s power who else’s did she possess.
All he got was bad vibes from all of this. She’s made requests and requests from gods usually mean demands. “What I have was entrusted to me. Not only to use to protect, but protect.” Freddy took a moment. Either through magic or death power can be taken. “Where is Hercules?” Why was the question so important? Freddy was adamant about it. He wanted an answer, because it would give him the insight he needed. The answer would prevent him from jumping to conclusions. He needed to hear it to let himself judge to use Wisdom that had empowered with to make the right decision. He wanted to believe that this could be settled without things getting anywhere than they were, but even without Solomon he had to look at the facts.
She had Hercules strength. She also ran with crocodile men who would probably serve Sobek first before they would serve her. Innocent people had been harmed. She sought this to retrieve Osiris and now there was a gathering storm. She knew who Freddy was almost like she was checking him off a shopping list. Freddy’s mind could run with this, but he wouldn’t allow himself too. He also realized that he was putting himself in between her and Cassie despite the fact that she possessed more power than he did, but something or someone told him that it’s the right thing to do.
Love makes people do extraordinary things. Extraordinarily good and Extraordinarily bad.
ST: The answer to Freddy’s question comes a little more quickly than even his evasion skills. A veritable crack-a-thoom of thunder, to go with the lightning that neither of them can see at this point. Yet, somehow lightning flashes none-the-less. In a heartbeat there is a shaking, tremor, that precedes the sudden understanding of just what destroyed the vault. Exactly what had caused the destruction of several levels of the bank.
Isis explodes. Crackling with lightning that sweeps across entire vault floor, racing for Freddy and Cassie. Now they know why the Crocodile Man, the leader, had ran away. Just as Solomon had given Freddy certain glimmers of Sobek and the Crocodiles of the Nile. It now bestows upon Freddy a certain inescapable knowledge. Run, fool. It’s Zeus.
Except that there’s no longer a route -up-, Cassie blocked that with the Vault door. There is only one way out of here and the Crocodile Man showed it too them.
Cassie: I’m a little surprised at his back pedaling, to be completely honest. I assume there’s something going on that he understands and I don’t entirely, but there must have been some queue that the woman had given that made him think cooperating wasn’t a great idea. It turns out to be fortunate that he had, though. It means that he’s close enough to me that I don’t have to go terribly far to grab him by the back of his shirt and yank him up off of the floor. Ideally he’s not going to resist, but if he does? I’m still not leaving him to get electrocuted, it’ll just be a bit more of a forceful move on my part.
“I think that’s our cue.”
The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck feel like they’re all standing up and at attention and I don’t actually think it’s because of the electricity. That is what I was feeling, and I don’t need anymore questions for the light bulb to click on in my head. It makes me…angry actually, in a way that surprises me a little bit, but I focus that energy on something else. Namely getting us out of here. Up would be an option if I were by myself, going through the ceiling would be easy. I’m carting Freddy though, and that means going the way the Crocodile Man had. Great.
“Arms in, head down, knees up.”
Not that he has to, I’m rocketing through the opening just the same. Into the sewers, and then hunting the first way up I can find.
Freddy: Freddy had wanted to hear it from the woman’s mouth. He wanted to know what she had done and how far it went. Unfortunately he wasn’t given the chance. The storm that had been gathering and swept into town had struck again and it was in that moment a few more things clicked beyond the fact that he was getting ready to get out of dodge.
It appears he wasn’t the only one that was aware of Isis’s activities. This didn’t bode well not at all. Wonder Woman was free to pull him out of the basement and into the sewers of Fawcett City. Probably the last place he wanted to be. The whispers came through loud and clear. “Zeus.” It was a whisper. That right there was old school smiting.
Confusion spread across his features as they traveled away from the lightning strike that sought to harm anyone its path luckily they were already gone. He needed answers, because he needed to know what this meant for him and for all of the divine.
“She stole Hercules power. She meant to take the power that resides within me. “ She could have had others. “Zeus intervened…” Indiscriminately. Was it over? Couldn’t be. The trials were challenging enough and now they had become complicated, because he didn’t think this was the end of it.
ST: When the ‘dust’ clears the Cops will have six very feisty Crocodile Men in their custody. Although they’ve got no clue what to do with them. The Police Chief won’t allow the normal people of the City to know that. He’ll continue to demonstrate unwavering courage and spirit in the face of this entire fiasco, even as he struggles to find a way to explain what has happened or deal with the after-math.
Our Heroes escape. Though they do so without knowing what happened with Isis for certain. Was she smote as Freddy seems to believe? Was she channeling Zeus’ power, like Cassie a little jealously thought? What happened with the Mask of Osiris? The only thing we know for certain, is that those answers and more will come to us in the next issue. Until then all signs point to Fawcett City.
by Michele | Sep 10, 2017 | Chronicles
Cassie: Adults like to drone on about how they expect great things out of today’s youth, and how we have such bright futures ahead of us. That we should be focused on homework, and learning the lessons that they have to teach us that will prepare us to fully embrace our destinies, and move us towards piloting the world into some great, shiny tomorrow. It wasn’t a schpeal I actually ever had to listen to for most of my life, because I was ‘home’ schooled until I was sixteen, and even though I didn’t have powers and the weight of a lot of other things on my mind back then? I still wouldn’t have bought it. I mean, it’s an awful lot to put on someone who barely has come out the other side of puberty. Then you add on a ‘greater purpose/higher calling’?
No matter what grand opinion my AP Calculus teacher might have on the importance of what they’re teaching me? The only thing it’s ‘good for’ is to get me college credit. Thank someone somewhere for my History teacher, because it’s literally the only subject I can stomach so far this year. My tolerance had been thin from the moment I was enrolled (against my will) at St. Mary’s, and lately it’s grown worse. It was always hard for me to want to be there. Finally making some friends had helped, but hadn’t changed the classwork. Now I have not only my powers to keep secret, but another identity to juggle. Two lives, that aren’t exactly what I expected or wanted on either side, but here I am.
If there’s anywhere I can count on Conner to not interrupt me in the middle of something it’s…well. Nowhere. He’s a Luthor, and so in addition to his lack of respect of boundaries and limits comes everyone being totally willing to let him get away with that lack. But if there’s anywhere that it’s less likely to happen, it’s in one of the media rooms at the school’s state of the art library, where I’m pretending to study for my biology test, but in reality using the excuse to use my forbidden cell phone, that everyone blatantly and openly carts around anyway. Last year I would have gotten called on it. This year, well. Somehow this year I’m a Big Deal.
So about those schools you said I should consider…
When Tim and I had our face to holographic face talk before on the subject I’d been more or less in. I’m pretty aware of what a slim margin I skated past getting sucked into the NOWHERE situation, and why I did. On one hand, I’m grateful to Conner for that and on the other? Right now it’s a little grating that it’s because of Conner. It puts me in a kind of unique situation, though. It’s something I’d been thinking about, too. More and more this week especially. That maybe this is something that is literallyand figuratively within my power to do, and that maybe that’s all the reason that I really actually need to do it.
Tim: “Standby.”
Normal friends chit-chat with one another. Especially when the subject of discussion is about school. Future, Current or Past. There’s old friends, new friends. New adventures to talk about. Old ones to relive. Casual friends are a thing of comfort. They’re there to take part in your life on the peripheral, to lend solace and spirit, but ultimately they’re ships passing in the night. Rare are those friends you meet in High School that carry on through out the intervening years in to twilight. Rarer still are those who respond with barely a double syllable response to the first time you dial their number.
“School library. Media room. Excellent choice. Place the phone down on a flat surface.”
The moment that she has done this the little ‘Cellphone’ will begin to shift. It’s parts moving, not unlike one of those devices Cassie had seen in the transformers movie that Conner took her to. Reconfiguring itself, albeit not in to a killer robot, but giving itself legs and antenna. A small cone-shape dish forming at the base to amplify signal. The phones cameras shift as well. One remains on Cassie; while the other points to an open space near by. Soon there after it begins to project the image of Timothy Drake. As if she needed more confirmation that this was no ordinary burner phone, the image of her friend is higher definition than your standard iPhone and the picture quality looks three dimensional.
“I took the liberty of upgrading your cellphone on our last meeting,” there’s a hint of charm to the tone that might not always have been there, but it only does so much to mask the fact that he’s again letting her know that he’s anything but mild-mannered Timothy Drake, flunky side-kick to a Luthor. “Yeah. No. Not that meeting, I mean the last time we met in person.”
“You look good, Cassandra. It looks good on you. Wonder Woman. Maybe not my first choice, but it’s certainly applicable.”
Whether she’s seeing a facsimile of the projection’s programming or the real Tim Drake, he’s dressed in a far different way than he was last time. It would seem that he is not that out of place in black, but the style of suit is far more three-piece than costume. He’s been busy, but clearly not as his own alter ego. While some might say that Tim Drake dresses up well, they’d be understating it. Like Conner there’s no doubt that the young man plays the part of millionaire’s son well. Though it’s a stark contrast to Conner in the way that Tim doesn’t seem comfortable in it. Not the same way he did the night in her mother’s office. He wears the burden of ‘Wayne’ far heavier than he does that of Robin.
“As to your question,” as Tim moves there’s a subtle whirring of the cellphone, so that it might track with him and keep the projection fluid, allowing him to draw closer and spread his hands along the media room’s nearest wall. “It depends. Are you feeling up for some sun or is your mood a little more…green?”
Cassie: “Uh huh, sure.”
Most people would probably say ‘hold on a minute,’ or ‘let me call you right back,’ but let’s be honest here. Neither of us is most people, and we both know that about the other, one of us just had the advantage of knowing it a whole lot earlier than the other. Still. That seems a little bit formal and beam me up, than I was expecting to hear.
“Seemed like the least likely time and place to tempt Conner into coming and checking out what I was doing. I mean. It might but…oh. Okay.”
Not that the thought actually prepared me for something a whole lot more sci-fi movie than I was actually ready for. Nor does it stop me from thinking that clearly <i>everyone</i> knows more about what’s going on in my life, and where I am, than I feel like I do sometimes. Being good with a computer doesn’t really prepare you for what whiz-kid-genius-Tim can do with one, however. Even when you’ve already seen some pretty impressive things that he’s managed. So I go along, not even being a smart ass and sliding it under the table, just settling my phone on the surface in front of me. And then very nearly smashing it with an incredibly quick movement of my fist. It startles me enough to begin the motion, and my brain kicks in quickly enough for me to stop it again. Good thing my thoughts seem to keep up with my enhanced reflexes.
“What the …?!”
I may have stopped from crushing the little techy marvel, doesn’t stop me from leaning back in my seat away from it with a wary, if interested, look. Nor do I stop myself from leaning in once again, and jabbing a finger at the projection, like I was going to actually poke him in the arm. I don’t even let Conner upgrade my phone, but then I guess Tim didn’t ask, and I didn’t even know he’d done it. The last time we met?
“You weren’t even actually… yeah.”
There. For the last meeting. It had taken me almost the whole time to realize that it hadn’t been him, or at least not in person, but I’d been off guard from the get go. Expecting my Mom, then getting Red Robin and while I’d already put two and two together that they were on and the same? I’d been pretty damn shocked to have him confirm it himself. Wrinkling my nose, I flick at a piece of fuzz on the hem of my blue plaid skirt. I’m not sure that I’d say anyone looks good in a school uniform, except that I see Conner in his everyday, and before he’d left Metropolis I’d seen Tim in one enough times. He looks <i>better</i> in a suit, though I’d say he’s about as happy to be wearing it as I am to have on this wannabe Catholic Schoolgirl getup. The tip of my tongue peeks out the size of my mouth in a grimace when he calls me by my full name.
“Ugh. Don’t. Only my Mom calls me that, and only when it’s going to be followed by something I don’t want to hear. And. Thanks? I mean. You look great, too. I’m not interrupting anything am I?”
If I was he probably would have called me back, and he’s not in his <i>real</i> uniform. I guess it’s daylight out there, too. Getting more comfortable in my seat again, I prop my elbow up on the table. Casual posture because I don’t need to be anything else, and so that if there’s any x-ray laser snooping going on, I’ll just look bored. The next wrinkling of my nose would certainly go along with that, but really it’s at the title.
“You think so? I feel like maybe I could have come up with something better if I’d had more than three seconds to prepare. I was kind of trying to riff off the whole… Super thing. Plus, who doesn’t love a good alliteration, amiright?”
Maybe something based in Mythology? Except knowing what I do about my own heritage, and how very real a lot of those figures were, and are? I wouldn’t want to be stealing someone else’s name and using it for my own. I guess that’s what Conner’s doing, but that seems more like stepping into a mantle than just deciding…hey. I like your name, Titania! How about I use it, you don’t mind right? My eyes dart to the camera, and it’s new parts and features as it makes a sound, but then my attention is back on Tim.
“Um. Usually those go hand in hand. Photosynthesis. So I guess this is an either or kind of thing? Sunny I suppose.”
Tim: There is rarely a time you can avoiding tempting Conner in to elicit behavior. He needs almost zero tempting or provocation. It’s a state of being for him. Easier to accept than now and work around it than try to work against it.”
In so many words Tim has explained to Cassie the entire summation of his friendship with the young Super. Accepting the guy as he is, allows one to work with his short comings and curb them to your own designs. Which is equally great for his friends and certainly Cassie, but it’s precisely what makes him a dangerous creature. Luthor had how long, exactly, to be an impression upon him. Curbing those behaviors in to what exactly? Does anyone know? Tim has an inkling, but it’s only that. An inkling. Cassie perhaps knows the most, but there’s little doubt in Tim’s mind that her feelings cloud judgment where that young man is concerned. At least she’s got the guy’s eye. It keeps his interest squarely away from Luthor’s for the time being, but it is anyone’s guess as to how long the President would accept such a thing. He at least believes Cassie to be harmless, for the most part. Or at worst, he thinks she’s the one under Conner’s thumb. Which works. For everyone involved.
While Tim is working through those thoughts, Cassie seems to be working through some of her own. She’s clearly piecing together what has been said, drawing the conclusion that Tim had not lied when he said before that he’d kept her under observation for a long time. If he’d replaced her phone the last time they’d met, in person, then he means the time before he’d left Gotham. Which says quite a bit about his own protective nature. While also giving a clue in to just how secretive he’s willing to be to achieve the result he’s after. What’s more is that he makes no effort to treat her like some child that needs platitudes and excuses. She was told before that he had been spying on her out of a desire to protect, he now has faith that she’ll make the necessary leaps in logic to understand why he do as he does.
“When I call you that it isn’t for the same reasons, it’s a beautiful name. Worthy of a Goddess. When I say it, you know I’m speaking to you as someone that I respect. Cassie is your mask, Wonder Woman is you aspire to be. Cassandra, is who you are. All three are something to take a measure of pride in.”
Those spread hands shift once more. It takes little effort to see that Tim is sporting something on his forearms that functions a lot like she’s seeing her phone behave. Wrist mounted gauntlets, that connect him to the supercomputer beneath his clothing. Used to dial in to her phone and direct it in to projecting even more holographic imagery. She might even start to recognize the scenery as those images take shape. Mind you, she can’t touch the images herself, not even the one of Tim, but anyone looking in to the media room would see Cassie being tutored perhaps. Someone using X-Ray vision wouldn’t see anything, as the photons making up the imagery wouldn’t be visible to that level of vision.
“Sunny. Well, pack a bikini then. Honestly, I should have known fate would bend you in this direction. Your first stop should be Fawcett City. Very little remarkable about it, honestly. Except that it was the Home to another … Titan. Of a sort. Batman’s records of subject of Shazam are spotty, at best. Which isn’t something I would normally attribute to Batman about anything. It would seem that Fawcett City was the lucky recipient of a blessing from the Gods. Several of them actually. I’ll transfer what I know to your phone, but the short story is … well… short and the long story isn’t much better.”
“Your contact for the ‘Tour of this particular school’ is going to be a young man. Fred Freeman. Heir apparent to the powers of the Gods. Wisdom of Solomon, strength of Hercules, stamina of Atlas, the power of you Zeus, courage of Achilles, topped off with the speed of Mercury. That’s the good news. The bad news? Well, there’s something about a Trial needing to be passed before his abilities stabilize. Which means that if you don’t make contact with this one sooner than later, if he sneezes wrong.. you’ll be in direct opposition to your boyfriend’s mandate.”
Softening from ‘lecture’ mode Tim’s features slowly become that of a bit concerned for what he’s just said, “Are you sure you don’t want to start with something a little… easier?”
Cassie: “Boy. Don’t I know it.”
What starts as a heavy exhale as I flop against the back support of my chair, turns into a pause, and then a rapid coloring of my cheeks as I realize exactly what I’ve said, and what the connotations might have been in saying them… Tim’s words were innocent enough, and could have meant normal bad behavior. Which Conner certainly is down for getting involved in at most times. Something you can really blame his psi-jacked upbringing for, because it led him to treat so much of everything like there’s no real consequences for anything he might do. There really isn’t. He’s got the powers of Superman, and the power of being a Luthor. There’s really no one that can touch him. But with the tech of my phone, knowing that Tim spent a long time spying on me, I realize he’s probably very, very aware that the other kinds of illicit behavior go on.
There’s a soft, uncomfortable clearing of my throat before I let that subject go, and focus on what he’s actually saying rather than my thoughts.
“Well. Can’t really argue that one. I mean. Goddess. Present. Or demi at least. Uh. Thanks, Tim. I mean it. Also are you aware of how smooth you are, or is this just accidental charming?”
It’s a little funny, I suppose. I know lots of guys (well, relatively for my age and experience, and the fact that I attend an all girl’s school anyway), but those two are the ones I know best. My boyfriend, and his best friend, and they’ve got a lot of things in common. They’ve got a number of incredibly stark different qualities and quirks, but they’re loaded. Good looking. Athletic, attend the same school have incredibly influential families. And they’re both very smooth, though in oddly entirely different ways. Conner would have gone through that speech and left me with the impression that I ought to know how great he was. Tim’s managed to fluff my ego, while deflating any irritation I might have had at his using my full given name.
“In September? I’m pretty sure there’s still one in a bag from my little college road trip tour this summer. Legit colleges, I mean but… yeah, you know that never mind.”
It’d be really easy to think that he’s making this up, or that he’s mistaken. Or maybe even pulling my leg. Listening to a guy that’s so brilliant with facts, and technology talk about Gods and legends. Except I’m a literal daughter of Zeus, and Tim was actually who Conner had introduced me to when I was having a little bit of a problem with someone intruding in my dreams that wasn’t welcome. For some information at least, even though he wasn’t the end solution. So I find myself leaning forward again, chin in hands as I listen in obvious rapt attention. Mouth only pursing in something of a grim expression because he’s right. Conner protected me from NOWHERE because he liked me. He’s not going to be under any such compunction for someone he doesn’t know, or that could be a threat to him. We talked about leading the next generation of heroes at that press conference, but while I love the guy… I also know the guy. So I’m left simply nodding in agreement and understanding.
“So, ASAP. I got it. I can do that.”
There as a lot of playful grimaces, and looks during this brief conversation (and any number of other times we’ve teased before now) , but this time I actually bristle in irritation and indignation.
“Why? Why’d you even give me the choice if you really think I can’t…”
As quickly as I’d blushed a minute ago, my expression pales and I pull myself up short as a hand claps over my mouth to physically end the little tirade before I can really get going.
“…I’m so sorry. I’m. I didn’t sleep really well last night I guess. Or maybe I need a snickers. I can do this, Tim.”
Tim: Boy, doesn’t she know it. Where there is normally a schooled look of dispassionate intellect, is now a smooth grin that threatens to become a rueful smirk at any moment. Banter is not something that he’s a stranger too, but it’s not something he does when he’s actually trying to ‘tutor’ someone on a matter of importance. There’s rarely a missed opportunity for flirting though and right now the threat of giving in to it, is pretty high. Enough so that it’s only because Cassie finally clears her throat that I let her off with a single slow, but appreciative whistle. ‘Damn, don’t you know it, girl.’
As fun as it might be, to be the one actually teasing her for once? Tim is quick to let her off the hot seat, when she follows it up with something akin to a genuine compliment. “Philanthropist, Playboy, adoptive father as my role-model. While you were taking classes at the foot of a master in history? I was learning the seven deadly arts of charming the pants off of debutantes. Quite literally, if I’m being honest. Bruce had a way of getting what he wanted, no matter what, no matter who he was wanting it from.”
“But. For once, I wasn’t being suave. You never give yourself the credit you deserve. I’ve seen you tame a superman. Navigate uncharted waters with your parentage. Not to mention the way you’ve stood up to those nightmares from a literal God you overcame. Some people might toot your horn, Cassandra, out of some desire to stand near you. It’s how the Gods became Gods in the first place, if the stories are true. Which is why you’re having such a hard time at school this year. You’re discovering another facet of your power-set. As your confidence and competence rises, so too will your spirit. People will feel a need to cater to you. They’ll bend to your will, give in to your wants, lavish praise upon you. Everything is going to be easy, too easy.”
“It’s your first trial. Much like this young man ‘Freddy,’ your life is going to be a trial for a time. Each new power you discover if going to test some part of you. Your ‘Presence’ as a Goddess, will be a trial. To see how you handle it, to see how you deal with it. Only if you pass that trial, will you unlock the next ‘gift’.”
Which is exactly why Tim had said this might not be the best target for her to approach. Given her recent college road trip, he’d naturally assumed she would want to take a little different approach. Leading her with a choice, that he would hypothesize on her taking the natural selection. But, Cassie is not one to follow the statistical standard of life. She’s anything but predictable most of the time. It’s not just part of her charm, it’s what keeps her from being crushed beneath the chaos of the life she lives.
Does he explain any of that? No. Because Cassie is all too quickly apologizing for the snappish response. There is something to be said for self-awareness, but Cassie doesn’t get to close the door on it that simply. Tim’s face shows a different sort of look to it. One Cassie hasn’t seen before. She’s under a different type of scrutiny than he’d normally brandish with her.
“Don’t. Don’t apologize. You do that too much. When I offered you the choice, I wanted to see where your mind was. Your boyfriend likes to watch you at Cheerleading practice. He’s scoping you out, because that’s the tantalizing part to him. On the other hand, I happen to like seeing how your mind works Cassandra.”
“Which is to say, you’re right. I shouldn’t offer you a choice, if I don’t think you have an equal chance to complete both tasks. I not only think you can, I believe you can. I believe in you or we wouldn’t be having this discussion. But, it hadn’t occurred to me just how close to home this assignment might be for you. I’d been to focused on… other hurdles you’d encounter on this one.”
There’s a certainty that if Tim were actually there, in the room with her, that he’d have approached. Maybe even offered some sort of consoling touch. As it is, he’s unable to do that any more than she was able to poke him moments earlier. His photonic self is a necessity for avoiding her boyfriend, but in yielding to that necessity it denies him the opportunity to be the friend he wishes to be at times like these. Leaving him to cant his head, to show his concerns in a more visual way. Luckily for them both, Tim is also quick to realize when he’s playing his hand too openly. Sending him back to business, with a clearing of the throat similar to her own just moments before.
“This is where things get ‘tricky’ for you. I wish I was there, but… business in Gotham is taking a protracted turn.”
Cassie: At least I have that going for me. The fact that usually only I can embarrass myself, and most of the time I can deal with other people doing it. It wasn’t always the case, I’ve just gotten a lot better at reacting to, and dealing with, the sort of situations my boyfriend might try to wrangle me into in order to get a reaction. In a way, I kind of miss that time because things were weirdly simple then. In comparison, I mean. I was just learning my powers and how to use them, and dealing with attention from my Superboy but that was really all my worries. Now I’ve got to convince a whole lot more of the world that not only do I know what I’m doing with my life, but that I know what I’m doing with their lives. As much as I don’t like NOWHERE, or what it does, I guess I can marginally say a silent thank you to them that most of the bad deeds of people like me are handled or dissuaded so I don’t have to take on more than I’m really ready for right now.
“It makes me miss my eating lunch solo in the corner days, sometimes. That’s just not how life’s going to be for me, and at least I’m usually perceptive enough to pick up on the difference between friends and the people that just want some of… I don’t know. The glow. I think it just feels like this isn’t my life right now because it’s so new, still.”
And from what I’ve learned, or pieced together so far? I’m probably going to have a very, very long time to have that balance flip on me. Where the sixteen years I spent as a ‘normal’ girl are going to have been a heartbeat. I don’t ever know if that’s encouraging or sad to consider, and I’m definitely not going to dwell on it right now in front of him. Instead I fix on the task, and the way I’d reacted to what I intuited as him doubting me. Maybe he’s right, I do apologize for a lot of things, things that aren’t even my fault. Things that aren’t even Conner’s fault sometimes, too. But it still leaves me feeling really out of sorts. I spent a pretty good chunk of my first year at St. Mary’s being bullied mercilously and I managed to hold my tongue, and temper despite knowing I could crush any one of them if I wanted to.
I just flew off the handle at one of my best friends, over something I may have taken the wrong way. That’s not like me. I’ve just started to get so… frustrated with feeling like nothing is in my control, or of my choosing, so to have him question a choice I did get to make had just triggered something kind of ugly. So I drop my hand from my face, and hold it up palm out to stave him off interrupting me.
“I mean. You’re right. I do. But I was also raised with some manners, and I am sorry for not responding a bit better than that. Maybe it being hard will be good, and I know we wouldn’t be. Other hurdles?”
But I have to kind of wonder… if he didn’t have me to believe in and trust on this then who does he actually have? Conner? Obviously not or we wouldn’t have been having to meet up secretively like this, and have conversations that he’s intentionally excluded from. I need to not think like that. Tim came to me on this, tipped off his secret to me, because he knows I’m the one that’s going to do be able to do this.
“I won’t lie and say I don’t kind of wish the same. Not just for me. I’m pretty sure he misses you. I’m guessing you don’t need me to tell you that he doesn’t exactly have what I’d call a lot of real friends. Or that he wouldn’t understand at all why you don’t want that bull in your china shop.”
He’s not the only one looking like maybe there was some ability for contact, because I wish I had some means other than the verbal to comfort him. It’s a lot easier to do that kind of thing, I think, just with a well meaning hand on the shoulder than to go in-depth into what someone’s going through emotionally or situationally. Also a bit less awkward. My mouth’s pulled to the side a little as I cock my head in a kind of mirror of his own body language.
“No progress, or just not enough to satisfy?”
The guy just lost his Dad, and mentor in more than just one aspect of his life and now he’s probably trying to figure out what to do, as well as sort out what happened. And worrying about me, and all these other metas. Frankly, even if I didn’t already want to do this for their sake, and because I dislike NOWHERE so much? I’d do it for Tim.
Tim: “No. It doesn’t.”
There it is. One of those moments when someone contradicts Cassie about something they shouldn’t have any right to do so about. Except, normally it happens from people who think they’re better than she is. At some facet of life or another. In this instance, it is a guy who just confessed to being a little awe-inspired by the majesty of what she is. Or what she will one day be. Tim isn’t the sort to take an attitude with her, nor with most anyone else, unless they’re a criminal. He’s a little more apt to sarcasm, than serious rebuke normally. But this? This he takes a stance with.
“You think you miss those times. Almost. Except, I knew you then. Probably better than you anyone else, including Conner. You didn’t enjoy those lunches alone. You were miserable then, just a different sort of misery. Now instead of ‘Why am I here,’ in reference to St. Mary’s, it’s ‘Why am I here,’ about this new life you’ve been thrust in to. If you really, really think about it? We’re both just experiencing the same woes we had a couple years ago, on a different level. Except when we were having them the first time, we’d never had them before so we lacked the perspective on how good we had it at the time.”
“You’re going to have a long, very long, life Cassandra. In ten years time, you’ll be telling me about how you miss these problems. Because you’re completely tired of all this Goddess attention and worship, you get from mere mortals. Or you’ll have discovered how difficult it is to train in Olympus, where they don’t even sell brassier much less wear them.” For but a moment he pause, considering what he’s just said then finally smirking for some reason, before continuing on. “I’ll be telling you about some new case that is confounding me. Some new girl that I’m having trouble getting to notice me.”
“Don’t forget. Conner is only four or five years old, in ten years you’ll be going through puberty with him. Talk about a new level of problems to commiserate over, you’re going to need an Olympic shrink.”
Whether it’s a surprise to hear that she misses him, that Conner does as well, or not is actually masked by the previous comments. There was a chance of Conner going off the rails while Tim was in Gotham, but some things were simply too important. He’d known the moment news of Bruce’s death came, that he had to trust Cassie. He already believed she could manage the super clone, but now he had to trust her to actually do it. He’d done so and so far she hadn’t let him down. What Cassie doesn’t know, of course, is that Tim had actually his doubts. Not in her ability, but in her whims. Would she be able to stand up to the whims of a Luthor, such as her boyfriend, or would she crumple and give in to his every desire?
It was that gamble which lead to the original offer. To the trust he displayed in sharing his secret. She’d passed a test that neither of them exactly knew she was taking. Leading them to this point, right here. Where he was so quick to dispute whether he believed she could do something or not. Tim believes in her. In no small part because of her ability to overcome his so-called Best Friend. It leaves him with more than a little guilt. He knows what test she’ll have to face in seeking out this Freeman fellow.
“There’s been very little progress at all, much less any that manages to be satisfying. Everyone is blaming everyone else. From the good guys to the bad guys. There’s little proof, pointing to anyone definitively. About the only person I’ve pulled off the suspect list is the one person who’s most likely to have done it. But the Joker has shown himself to be consumed by finding the culprit. More so than any of the rest of us.”
“So the only progress I’ve made of late, is rescuing a co-worker a mind-controlling jerk and trying to be a good influence on someone that reminds me of you. She’s a good kid, I want to save her from this life especially because of what I’ve seen you going through. But she’s defiant. Willful. Sarcastic. And blonde. If she was half as pretty as you are, I’d be in trouble. Luckily, I’m mildly positive you’re at the top of the gene pool in that regard.”
As quickly as that, Tim subtly shifts the subject away from his own pain. The loss of his ‘Father,’ is a subject that lingers like an open wound. Having no closure only means bitterness about it. Which is not a side of himself that he’s willing to put on display here. Not now, not when there’s every chance he’d both need and accept a hug from this particular woman. At a time when it’s actually not even possible. Instead he shifts the topic to something more comfortable. Then lightly settles it back where they came from originally. Suave.
“Listen. We’re getting pretty far abroad from the topic of Fred Freeman. There’s one thing you need to know before you go on this mission. According to Bruce’s files, the reason that this kid is being put through the trials of the Gods? Is because his predecessor ran afoul of your boyfriend’s employers.”
Cassie: “Okay. I’m not going to say you’re probably right because you are right. But it’s easy to be wistful for a time when your ‘why me?!’ pity party was a party of one, when you’re still psyching yourself up in order to be mentally up to the task of that pity party meaning a lot of people’s lives. Knowing I’m a total badass doesn’t necessarily mean I’m completely cool yet with putting that into action. But I guess that just means I’ve got a conscience that I’m worried about it at all.”
It’s not that I’m insecure because really, I’m not. I never have been. Confused maybe, but I’ve never doubted whose opinion’s were important, and what voices did or didn’t matter. Like he said, it’s on a much larger scale now however. Knowing there’s other people counting on you. Maybe a lot of other people. I’ve never really needed to feel needed. Maybe these other metas don’t even know they do need me, and what help I can give. Heck, maybe they won’t want it either but that isn’t really going to change anything. Tim asked me, after the news debut, if I’d meant it. I may not have been the one that actually said ‘it,’ but soon as Conner had said the words at the press conference? They were basically my new paradigm. I’m just…having a little bit of growing pains with fitting into it.
“Maybe there’ll be bigger, badder Goddesses around by then and I can pass the peasants off to them. And…how do you know they don’t wear bras? Wait. Some new girl? Is there one you’re having that problem with right now? Should I come over and slap some sense into her?”
All I can do at the suddenly very vivid mental image of my boyfriend going through puberty, if he’s not already gone through it and this is just his ‘child’ state? Goodness gracious.. I don’t think I can survive the mood swings. Then there’s the physical development and… I pull another face, though this grimace is a much better humored one, as I can’t help laughing a little. The lightening of this particular mood was probably a good thing, and welcome in the moment at least before we’re back to something a little more serious. We may be a pair of teenagers with the weight of a whole lot of big problems on our shoulders…but we are still just teenagers.
“The Joker? Is… there any chance that maybe he did do it and doesn’t remember? Or is he like. Not the multiple crazies in one head kind of crazy?”
I’m not as up on my knowledge of Gotham’s creeps as maybe I should be, given who my friend is, but he’s also made it abundantly clear that I, and Conner as well, should stay the heck out. While my approach wouldn’t quite be as scorched Earth as ‘Superman’s’ would be… I can understand wanting to solve your own problems. And this particular one is surely something a whole lot more personal than any other crime he might end up fighting.
“Yeesh. Well, it sounds like you’re finding some things to keep you busy anyway. And I am a Goddess, so I wouldn’t hold that against her. It’s not very fair. If she’s like me, though, you telling her she shouldn’t be doing something isn’t really going to work. Not if she thinks she needs to or it’s right.”
I know how I respond to that kind of thing. As our conversation bounces between serious, painful, light and teasing, it eventually is cycling back to why I had actually called in the first place. The ‘mission.’ This Freddy guy. And when I’m being told ‘there’s one thing I should know,’ given all the other information I’ve gotten so far? I pay attention. Maybe even a little more sharply when I hear what it actually is. Blue eyes narrow in suspicion that’s not directed at the image of the boy in front of me, but at the who he’s referring to.
“And. That means there’s every reason to suspect they’re aware of this guy, or if they aren’t that they pretty soon will be. And I know how they handle powerful people they’re aware of.”
Ran afoul. I don’t need that spelled out for me. There’s a lot of things it could mean, but maybe it’s Tim’s situation with his deceased father being such a fresh topic that leads my thoughts to one place. That they probably killed him. If that’s not reason enough for me to feel the need to do this? Nothing is going to be.
Tim: Tim likes being right. The smug look is very telling of how much he likes being told about being right. Most especially by this particular person. See the way those dimples plunge that much further in to the set of his jaw over being told not once, but twice in one setting that he’s right. This is a very good thing for a young man’s ego, at a time when he might just need it most. Try as he might to change the subject, she was still right about the weight of Bruce’s death and the constant source of frustration that comes with it not being a solved case yet.
“As amusing as it might be to see you slap yourself, I’m not that sort of masochist, Cassie.” At this there’s an even deeper level of pleased, smugness to the look than before. As well as two holographic hands demonstrating his intangible state. “But, I’m obviously not going to stop you if you’re determined…”
Without being there in person it’s slightly more difficult to see if Cassie is putting together the pieces of the puzzle as they’re being laid out before her. The truth is though, Tim is confident that she’s getting the jist of it. All flirting aside, all floating of ego aside, Cassie Sandsmark is intelligent. She was smart before all of this ‘super’ stuff started to impact her life. If there is one thing that Tim respects even more than super-powers? It’s intelligence. Batman proved that a mind driven by the charisma and necessity can overcome any super power. Cassie’s got them both. Smarts and Powers. She tends to favor one over the other, thankfully enough.
“It’s my understanding that Bruce was only a few steps ahead of them. He’s been gone for weeks now. So to be perfectly honest, I’m not sure how much, if any, of a head start you’ve got on this. Which leads back to why I was apologizing before about giving you this case. I had only been thinking of your similar situations were with Freeman,I hadn’t really even considered how this one is going to impact your situation with Conner. I feel like I should I apologize again, but I don’t want you to think it’s you I’ve got doubts about.”
“As for the Joker, if you knew him, I think you’d agree with me that anything is possible. But forgetting that he managed to kill Batman? Is extremely unlikely. If anything, I think he might be mourning the loss even more than we are. Than I am. It’s like he’s lost a part of himself. The two of them were connected. Two sides of a very warped coin. The Joker was every bit the Chaos, that Batman was the Order. I think Joker, and maybe Bruce, were not really even aware of how they might exist without the other. Batman would have handled it. Order would prevail. The Joker? I think the Chaos is going to consume him and if he doesn’t get closure, it might consume the rest of Gotham too.”
“Which… is why I haven’t really got a choice. I can’t leave. I’ve got to protect this city. Even if it meant losing Mister Freeman, he’s one man versus an entire City of souls. Lucky for me, there’s someone I know can handle it, huh?” There’s a small smile to that. Everything that has been said; from the Joker to the Chaos and the threat to Gotham, has left Tim drained of much of the humor he’d been feeling only moments ago. In it’s wake though, comes pragmatic awareness and an idea. “Actually. If you need a distraction for Conner, I’ve just gotten an idea. Better you not know the details, for plausible deniability, but… let’s just say I know someone. Who’s very distracting and can take care of their self.”
Cassie: “Slap myself? Why would I… Oh. No. I’m good. Thanks.”
That smug look on his face pulls me up just as short on that line of questioning, as the pieces clicking into place in my mind does. And once again, the pink tip of my tongue makes an appearance as I stick it out at him. I’m very aware of a lot of the things that I am, and what I am to a lot of people. That just isn’t a frame of reference that I ever have for myself, however. I didn’t quite catch on with Conner at first either, and he was a whole lot less subtle about spelling it out for me. Part of me is really inclined to argue with him, but that won’t end well for me. The fact that he’s smirking is a pretty clear indicator that I kind of followed exactly where he was attempting to lead me with those words. And insisting that I do notice him is kind of moot, just like reminding him that I have a boyfriend. Which he is very aware of. So the juvenile expression is what I settle for.
“If it goes anything like it did for me, and I think I got more leeway than most..” At least most on my power level. If someone’s metahuman ability is to give teeny papercuts with supreme concentration I’m not sure that they’d bother. “Then the first time there’s any real display of power there’s a chance for some knocking at the door. So I need to get out there before that happens.”
I don’t know if Conner’d been watching, and just happened to pick when I had flown myself up to that rooftop for a shake and fries in privacy and peace to interrupt me, or if it was the act of flying itself. It doesn’t really matter to me at this point enough to have ever asked him about it. There’d been lots of little things up till then to get attention, but nothing so blatant as that.
“I’ll handle Conner. It’s okay. His morals might be a little…iffy, but I’m pretty sure he wants this for me. After that really, super public setup he really can’t fault me for pursing it, either. He just doesn’t need to know you were pointing out the targets right now.”
Do I like keeping things from him? No, not really. Especially since a lot of the control I do have over my Superboy comes from the fact that I’m upfront and honest about what I’m doing, and how I feel about what he’s doing. I’ve got to be the moral compass for both of us sometimes, either because he can’t or won’t differentiate between what he wants and what he should do. But Tim wouldn’t have asked me not to if it wasn’t important, and I wouldn’t still be doing it if I didn’t agree.
“I guess anyone can get so used to their life being one thing that they have a hard time knowing what to do with it when it’s not. I’d say they’re in good hands if it were just you, but I know it’s not. Still. I’ll say it again. Not that I think I need to but… if you need our help… that’s kind of what we’re trying to build towards out here. Folks that can and will help.”
It’s a hell of a choice to have to make, even knowing that tens of thousands of people are going to always have to outweigh one. No matter who that one is. And it’s really, really crappy that he needed to possibly make it just the same. It’s also really unfair.
“Hey, that’s what friends are for, right? Especially ones with ancient Gods as parents. Well. Parent. My mom’s kind of a force to be reckoned with too, though.”
Tilting my head at his image once again, my expression grows curious as he potentially presents a solution to the only immediate problem I was really concerned with. I can’t take Conner with me. Not only would NOWHERE likely get suspicious, but then he’d be on scene to act in…maybe not the way I want this thing to go, because he’s supposed to thanks to the marching orders of those awful acronyms.
“…who can take care of themselves when we’re talking about Conner? I’d ask who but… yeah. No details. And that’d be great.”
Tim: For the second time in the same conversation Tim is left looking at Cassie in that strange, ‘Are you really that blind?’ sort of way. Eyebrows up. Lips thinned. Head canted to the left, akin to the way a dog looks when not understanding a command. The little froof of his hair dangling just such a way as to frame his face in almost cute curiosity. Leaving nothing said about the slap, nor about the way people react to life-changing events. There’s just muted silence, consideration of whether she really is that blind. Then…
“Okay. This is the second time we’ve gotten together and both times you’ve totally missed the obvious. Have you ever read the actual stories of the Greek Gods. I’m talking about the actual History, not Wikipedia or a Google Search.” Both hands immediately rising to stem the tide of another Cassie verbal lashing, staving them off with an unoffensive motion of putting his hands out plaintiff. “You father was part trout, if even half of the tales are true. Spawning more off-spring than even a king fish.”
“But he only ever got ‘romantic’ with a handful of mortals. Each of which was either special before he touched their lives or were special afterwards. I don’t mean the special Olympics, nor do I mean really great in their field of work. I mean special. One of Kind type of people. To put it in the vernacular of more modern day religion? They achieved near saint-like levels of special. Now don’t take this the wrong way, but either your Mom is the most unremarkable mortal that your Dad has ever gotten ‘romantic’ with.”
“Or you’re still not asking her the right questions. Because, I’d be willing to wager a large sum of money that ‘Force to be reckoned with,’ does not quite cover it. There’s more to her story and take it from me, Cass, you only have so long to get that story from your parents before they’re gone.”
That last question though? Is definitely the right sort of question. Once more there’s a shift in the conversation. From the stark serious disbelief in Tim over Cassie continuing to refuse to really question her mother, to the almost cat-who-ate-the-canary look when she puts that rhetorical question out there. Who can take care of themselves when you’re talking about Conner? Not many people, truthfully. Maybe not even Tim. But if there’s one person who can do the job and live to talk about it? He’s got an idea. Two years spent as the guy’s ‘side-kick’ were spent studying more than the books after all.
“You are definitely right about that. From everything I can see, he definitely wants this for you. Normally I would question his motives, but they’re fairly obvious this time. He wants you safe from the very thing he works for. There isn’t really any other way for him to achieve that, unless you can either join them or achieve some manner of immunity from them. He’s got Alien Brains enough to know you won’t join them willingly. Being coerced or brainwashed is going to change the person you are. So he’s left with the only thing that holo-upbringing really taught him. Manipulate the System, to achieve the result he wants. The trouble with this is that we’re not living in a predetermined virtual reality here. In that virtual reality whenever he caused a systemic destruction, someone pushed the reset button. We don’t have one of those out here.”
“For now, let’s just focus on the things we can control in this moment. For you that’s a visit to Fawcett City. For me, that’s a visit with leggy loud mouth meta, who’s going to give your superboy a reason not to be watching you for the next day or two.” On his side of the projection, Tim reaches for the transceiver phone on his end, only to hesitate just before touching it. “Cass, you do look good. I’m not even flirting for once. I wouldn’t have deduced that you hadn’t been sleeping as a reason for snapping at me. You look good, more confident and comfortable than I’ve ever seen you.”
“If you start having the dreams again,” you know the dreams Tim shouldn’t even know she was having once upon a time. “Let me know. I know a guy.”
Cassie: He doesn’t need to speak his skepticism. I can pretty much read it loud and clear from his posture and facial expression alone. It makes me not feel even a little bad for my exaggerated sigh, or the way that I roll blue eyes at him.
“Uuuh, yeah. I have. I knew them better growing up than I knew freakin’ Disney Princesses. I also know that there hasn’t exactly been a lot of well. Me’s that have been talked about in the even close to recent history, and I have a feeling there would have been at least a little blurb about something crazy happening. Which means that not only did he not screw around with a whole lot of mortals, but it’d been a long freakin’ time since someone even tempted him so. Yeah. I thought my Mom was the most amazing thing before I woke up with Godpowers. And I mean. You’ve met her right? It’s pretty clear where I got my looks from.”
Maybe I’m not asking the right questions. The truth is I haven’t asked a whole lot of them period because I don’t know where to start. Where I should stop once I do. She kept the truth of my father from me for my whole life, and even once I had powers only talked about it when I confronted her. Maybe everything else going on has taught me that there’s probably a reason that’s got nothing to do with embarrassment or shame, and a lot more to do with protecting me and maybe some self-preservation. It kind of feels like a box I shouldn’t open until I have to. At the same time though, Tim’s right. I don’t know what’s going to happen. Maybe it’s something to do with why she’s pushing me away.
“You know. You badgering me about smoothing things with my Mom is one thing. The fact that Conner’s said it, too? Makes me want to say you’re both in on it. Because the other option is that it’s really that obvious. And I’ve already told you that you’re right more than the weekly quota today.”
I’m back to teasing now, because I know he’s right. And Conner, too. I’ve just been busy, and I really don’t entirely know the questions to ask. Maybe this little job of mine will prove enlightening in more than one way and area of my life. Or I’ll just have to start with what I’ve got, and ask her to tell me the bedtime story of Cassandra and Helena Sandsmark.
“I think the whole Superman thing was my fault. Or at least him embracing it on his own. I’ve been trying to get him to do good things with all those powers of his. And I’d definitely rather he did it on his own, because he thought I wanted to do some Caped Crusading than because his Dad has talked him into it. He just needs some help.”
Not physically that’s for sure. But that’s not what he gets that’s positive out of a relationship with either Tim or I. Yeah, I’m muscle, and Tim’s brains, but we both seem to have picked up on the subtle way you have to guide Conner, his powers, and his ego. I don’t think that’s something NOWHERE really has a chance of mastering in the way it needs to be done, and that gives us the edge that we probably sorely need. Leggy loud mouthed meta? It’s probably a good thing I don’t have a confidence in my relationship issue or I might be a little bit concerned with where that meeting might go. But Tim said she could handle Conner, whomever she is, and anything that happens from there…well. I’m going to be in Fawcett City with a job to do, and I’ll just have to not worry about the things I can’t control. Though I don’t like it.
“Thanks, Tim. Back at ya. I’m not even flirting either. And I will.”
He knows a guy. I hadn’t told him about those nightmares, and this isn’t at all the same thing. These dreams have been pretty. Um. Great. Sometimes the waking up from them has been the crappy part. I wonder if Conner talked to him about it, or if he just eavesdropped on a conversation that was had about them. I pretty quickly decide the latter’s more likely. I’ll keep the offer in mind either way though.
“My phone’s not going to self-destruct in five seconds or anything…is it?”
Tim: “Oh. No. I wouldn’t dream of destroying a quarter million dollar piece of Wayne Tech so haphazardly.” This too brings a wide-smirk to the face. Cassie’s used to Wealth in the form of Conner’s toys, but she’s always refused his expensive gifts. Now though she has no idea how long she’s had something of that value in her possession. Doing god knows what with it. Goddess, such as it were. “It’s much more likely to grow sentience and try to take over the world, if you leave it unattended or feed it after midnight.”
“Y’know, the truth is, Con might do a half-way decent job at being Superman. But, I’m not sure he’s ever going to do it for the right reasons. For every ounce of the Superman that was altruist, Conner got an ounce of greed from his other gene donor. I mean that literally. Our Pinnochio is always going to need a Jiminy Cricket, Cass. So it’s a good thing one of us is immortal.”
This is not just a good way to sign off the ‘Call,’ it’s also sage advice to her. Without commenting any further about how Tim plans to distract the super boy she calls her’s. That is a topic best left unspoken. Not just because of any sort of jealousy she might feel. The truth is what he had said at first. Best that she has a true sense of plausible deniability. Because it keeps her clean. Keeps Cassie from needing to tell a lie. Though there’s little doubt she could do it, convincingly enough to have the boy eating out of the palm of her hand? Sometimes there’s a principle to the thing. She holds sway over one of the most powerful metas still on the planet. Best not to endanger that sway by having her break the guy’s trust.
Leaving Timothy Drake with the need for another discussion. This one? Thankfully needs a lot less build up. Given that the person who needs drafted in to all of this was no more than five feet away during this entire ‘Phone Call.’ Sometimes secrecy is a necessity. Other times it happens to be a hurdle to jump over. Dinah Lance can normally keep a secret and right now she’s in a position where keeping them from her only enhances her curiosity. Which is why Tim made no effort to hide the entire call from her when she stomped out of her bedroom in the middle of it. No doubt wanting something for the headache that accompanies the handover she’s been nursing since Noon. At first caught by the interest in whom Tim was talking to, then lured in by the holographic display cast across her living room. Hard to believe the conversation itself was probably only the third reason she lingered.
It isn’t really even eavesdropping when the person you’re spying on knows you’re there the entire time. “Don’t worry, Dinah. This will be fun. Mostly. Except for the tears. But those will be mostly his. And you did say you wanted an excuse to try on that suit I made you.”
This is going to be a long night. Not the sort that revolves around good dreams, but the type that is a nightmarish twist of explaining to the second hottest blonde in your life, that she’s going to pick a fight with a nearly-psychotic, definitely sociopathic, Superman.
by Michele | May 9, 2017 | Chronicles
Tim : It all started with a text. The sort of text that interrupts some of the most fun moments a girl might have with their boyfriend. The sort that reads of the caller i.d. that identifies with your mother.
Mom: Saw your press conference.
Mom: You up for a little heart to heart?
Mom: Mother, Daughter talk?
Mom: No boys allowed.
Mom: Might reconsider that trip you wanted to come along for.
Mom: My office @ museum.
Mom: Bring. Cheesecake.
Alright, so it’s a series of texts. With Cassie moderately distracted, it allows for the entire discussion to be had without her reply. Leaving her to play catch up. To hop to what her Mom wants, because it’s a rare opportunity to maybe make amends for a situation that she hadn’t caused in the first place.
At the point of arrival though, it’s obvious almost immediately that Mom isn’t in the office. Given the time of night, it’s deserted. But that’s not really unusual. Cassie’s mother works late more often than not. Especially when she’s preparing for a trip. Truth is, she’s probably somewhere in the building for real. She just isn’t the one awaiting Cassie in that office.
Ordinarily (which is a word that applies to situations like this only loosely, and very recently), Cassie might have immediate cause for concern. Though her defenses might be up immediately, the reason for her arrival isn’t there to set a trap. Nor do I happen to be stupid enough to cause her to go in the fight or flight mode before I’ve even said a word. I’m sitting there, defenselessly, in her Mother’s desk chair. Clearly having rifled through the notes and information sitting there. But it’s not the clean cut schoolboy of norm. I’ve made this trip in uniform.
“Wonder Woman. Really? Don’t get me wrong. You’re pretty wonderful, but you don’t even have a driver’s license yet.” That dry wit is rarely mistakable, but even if it isn’t, I only make her wait a moment before I’m brushing the mask off of my face. “I’ve erected a bio-metric holographic overlay of the room. Anyone spying on us, is seeing your average girl next door having a discussion about keeping secrets from and with her mother.”
“Did you mean it?”
Cassie : We’re supposed to be studying. When one of you is smarter than the average bear, and has already had a high school education psi-jacked into your brain, and the other is a smarter than your average everyone girl that could have been teaching these classes rather than taking them, it just is a little hard to stay on task. To my credit, I made sure we got the homework portion done before we started on more important, personal subjects but there’s nothing beyond that we really need to do. Plus my Mom’s not home. At least one of us has a little bit of shame, so this wouldn’t be going on if she were home.
Because that’s just weird. No matter how open, accepting and generally cool your Mother might be.
One little jaunty jangle I ignore, even two because there’s not exactly many people who have my phone number that I jump with any level of excitement to respond to even in my least interesting moments. But when it keeps on going, eventually I have to extricate myself from Conner, and the couch cushions, in order to read them. Messages from the only other person that occupies the ‘drop everything for’ orbit.
“Oh, shoot it’s Mom. I gotta go, Con.”
Holding up a hand as I shove my phone in the back pocket of my jeans, and reach for a sneaker to stave off any sort of emergency reaction by the city’s newest Superman.
“Not an emergency, she just wants to talk. Just the girls. No Conner’s allowed. But she said she wanted cheesecake do you think you could…”
…maybe get one for me while I finish tying my shoes. I don’t get a chance to finish. Not only do I not typically encourage the guy to use his powers (exactly the opposite), but I don’t usually ask him to do things for me. I haven’t even finished tying the first one, and my hair’s not done shifting from the wake of his exit before he’s back. Cheesecake in hand, and looking pretty smugly pleased with himself. I guess I can’t blame him. I am right now, too, even if I am still a little grouchy at him over the Superhero Debut. Maybe that’s why he’s being so complaint…
All in all it takes him much less time to do my errand than it does for me to get out the door. And then for me to get myself to the Metropolis Museum, even though I fly most of the way. It’s dark, and late enough that I take the risk, and I know the area around the place well enough to know where it’s safe enough to land mostly unseen. With. Cheesecake.
I could have gotten there faster, but I’d taken my time just a bit. Agonizing over what I’m going to say, what I need to say, what she might have to tell me about what’s been going on lately. The walk from the parking lot in past the security that waves me through on seeing my face. Mom’s not in her office though, someone else is and I just about use it as the first salvo of a fight. Blue eyes narrowed in on the costumed figure.
“They don’t know that.”
I could have one. I’m old enough. I just haven’t really bothered, we don’t have a spare car, Conner has his own and likes to drive the flashy sporty thing everywhere because of the attention it gets. Oh, and I can fly. When the mask is pushed away from the eyes of the intruder, I look surprised but not surprised enough given what a revelation that should have been. I mean. I’ve talked to Tim on the phone before. I’m more caught off guard that he’s here, in my Mom’s office and that he apparently sent me for cheesecake.
“I feel like I ought to be mad at you for hijacking my Mom’s phone and getting my hopes up. Or for the snooping. Mostly, i’m just going to be huffy right now for accusing me of keeping secrets from my Mom. She knew before I did. I mean. She slept with my Father. She knew who and what he was, she just didn’t bother telling me. So if we’re going to get judgey about… you know what. Not the point.”
Pushing the door closed behind me, I set the cake on the edge of the desk and drop down into the chair on the opposite side that I’ve occupied so many times before. Just not with Red Robin on the other side.
“So. Hi, Tim. Welcome back to Metropolis. I like the cape.”
Shoving a hand through blonde hair puts it more in place, after getting a bit mussed from the flight and then rushing in here for my Mother/Daughter chat. It’s a pretty smooth setup, I suppose. Conner’s got almost zero boundaries and this is one of the few he actually respects, and wouldn’t get curious enough to follow along on. Though I don’t think for a second he’s still at my house right now.
“It. Which…it? The part where I said I’d help you if you needed it last time because, I mean.. I kind of guessed but that’s a kind of sudden hand tip. Or what I said on televison?”
Tim : “They know everything,” comes the counter before she’s even finished the thought.
We just happen to be talking about different people when we use the word ‘they.’ But for the moment that’s a sidenote to the overall situation that has brought me here. If I was here to talk to her about the coming out party or the name that she’s chosen to present herself? I could have done that as mild-mannered chum Tim. I’m here in the costume to make a statement of my own.
In a rather uncharacteristic show of emotions, there’s a legitimate scowl upon my face as she speaks about things. “It doesn’t work that way. If I were talking to Conner, I’d accept that he believes it does, but you’re not Conner. You know better. The world doesn’t work that way. Did your Mother know? Sure. Did she keep it from you? Yep. Was it crummy and did it suck? Uh-huh on both counts.”
“But. She’s your Mother. Protecting your life trumps protecting your feelings. Because that’s her job. Her niche. Her lot in life. It’s so much her job, in fact, that you don’t even really get to whine about it and call yourself a Woman in the same conversation.” Pausing, more so for effect than necessity, before allowing a subtle shift in my features to soften. “You’re definitely right though. This isn’t the point, but the truth is? You should lead with that. Telling her you finally understand that you have no right to be judgey about it. Opening that door for her, is going to let her know you’re ready to heal. Speaking from recent experience? You should do that, before you lose the opportunity too.”
Placing my hands, gloved as they are, down upon her mother’s desk. I make a show of pushing some of the papers aside before opening one of my hands up. People say that I’m a closed book, this is a metaphoric way of opening it, if only momentarily for the girl in front of me. Oh. Erm. Woman, I mean. Psh.
“I’m asking if you meant what you said on television. About being the ‘Leader’ of the next generation?” Again there’s a brief pause, but this time I actually shrug slightly and look away. “Not that it really matters if you did mean it or not. It’s too late. No take backs, so to speak.”
“Listen. I haven’t been completely honest with you, Cassie. The trouble is, I don’t think anyone has. But in my case, I wasn’t being deceptive in a really intentional way. I knew Con had powers. I knew all about him, actually. My … eh.. Father.. erm..-figure, warned me that I’d be on Conner’s radar. Just for different reasons than you. Con’s dad wouldn’t let the chance to make nice with the Wayne’s slip past. What I didn’t know, is that my… Father…eh…-figure, was doing the same with me. Getting me close. Using me to spy on the Luthors. Conner specifically.”
“My …eh… let’s just call him Bruce, okay? Has known about Lex Luthor’s Agenda and the people Connor work for. He’s known for years. I’ve got access to files, data, histories… the works. If you meant what you said on television, I know a few people who might be willing to ….. follow a Leader.”
Cassie : His emphasis hints that he’s not referring to the same ‘they’ as I am, but I don’t try to clarify what I meant. I have a feeling he knows what I meant, just as much as I get what he’s angling for. The more sinister ‘they,’ where I just meant the general populace. As far as they know? I am what I say. Both my costume, and Conner’s, have some subtle imaging of their own built in to mask who we really are. Otherwise the media would be having a flipping field day. Not about me so much as they would over Lex Luthor’s son being a super-powered Superman. Boy.
So I just shrug in response to his comeback before kicking my feet up on the desk. Carefully. In a spot that’s not endangering any of the papers or her precious knickknacks, some of which were gag gifts from me for one birthday or another.
“I know.”
This ‘knowing’ is about Helena Sandsmark and what she did, or didn’t do and her motivations for it. There’s another shrug, accompanying the earnest expression on my features.
“I got over it a while ago. Do I wish she would have maybe found a way to bring it up a little sooner than when long-lost Dad I didn’t want dropped a gift in my lap and my powers kicked in? Oh, yeah, sure. Absolutely. But I get why she didn’t. I should tell her though.”
The truth is I never actually had it out with my Mother over that whole thing. Conner talked me down off my proverbial ledge, while we were up in the literal sky, and made some of the same points. Tim’s just making them a little more eloquently. Maybe she’s picked up on some of it though, she is my Mother, and for sixteen years of my life we basically just had each other. By choice, not out of necessity.
“Bleck though. Really. It’s a stupid name, isn’t it? Wonder Girl would be a lot more appropriate but that was going to lead to the immediate sidekick connotation and…”
Pausing, I bite the corner of my lip and shoot him a half-sheepish look across the desk.
“…not that there’s anything wrong with that. I just don’t want to be Conner’s. Technically he’s the one that said that, not me. About leading, and the next generation and all of that. I just didn’t disagree.”
But subtle as that distinction might be, it doesn’t matter. Not in any important way. I’d been set up to be someone to look at, to look to. Whatever way that is someone wants to look; for guidance, help, heck maybe blame eventually. When it comes down to it I’m a high schooler, and probably not ready for that kind of responsibility but that doesn’t mean I can’t do it. Sitting up straight again, I lean against the desk more bodily, fingers starting an absent beat on the edge of it.
“But. If someone has to? I think it can be me. I’m not N.O.W.H.E.R.E.. I’m sure they are waiting for any kind of chance to change that, but I’m not into that koolaid and I owe that to Conner. I’m also… very painfully aware of what it feels like to have something you don’t understand thrust on you. I mean, I know you know, but I don’t know if you know how new this all still is to me. I have the scary feeling that I’m only just scratching the surface of what I can do. So.”
The whole thing hadn’t been my idea. Eventually would I have gotten here? Probably, yes. With or without Conner’s help I think I’ve got it in me. I apparently come from an ancient family that’s predisposed to that sort of thing.
“I don’t know that I know how to lead, but I do know that I won’t try to use them for any sort of agenda. And I’m not going to let anyone else either. Maybe that’s why it’s gotta be me.”
Tim : There is so much to what is said that we could probably discuss all night long. Cassie’s entire situation with her mother for one. I’ve never understood the real drama involved there, because up until recently I only knew Cassie had powers. I wasn’t aware of what they were or where they came from. That had come later.
“When we first met, I thought you were a mark. I thought your boyfriend was playing you. It made me mad. Real mad, actually.” A gesture of the hands around the two of them, to encompass the office. “The baffles that I used before. The technology that is keeping him from spying on us right now. All of that was born out of a desire to be able to save you.”
An admission, but one that I take a step further before she has the time to really work out what I’ve actually said. “I did this in a couple years. Bruce had a couple decades. He knew, Cassie. I’m starting to think he really, really knew everything. And I’m starting to think that’s the major reason he’s gone now.”
When she sets forward, so do I. Except that as we’re mutually leaning over the desk from opposite sides? I’m making the effort to truly make eye contact. To demonstrate a level of openness that I’m not known for as Tim, much less as the person I’m dressed up as before her.
“Wrong. Don’t lie to yourself. You have an Agenda. Or more accurately, if you don’t have one now? You will have one soon enough. Be honest. That’s your gift. Tell people the truth. Lead with honesty. Tell them what you stand for. Tell them what you plan to do. Put your Agenda on the table and let the people who believe in it stand with you. You come from the ancient Gods, Cassie. That radiance from their old, ancient, mythological, world is inside of you. Let people see the truth in you and they’ll follow for the right reasons.”
“In the next couple weeks you’re going to start receiving letters from schools you never applied too. It’ll be dossiers on the people I think you can help, first. If you agree, then make contact. If you don’t, that’s your call too. The first dossier is the only one you don’t get to Veto. She needs your help the most.”
At this I’m starting to rise up from her mother’s chair. Taking my full height leaves me a little short of her, but like most times I’m happy to let the shadows of the room obscure that difference for effect.
“One thing though. Well. Actually two things. First, maybe it’s the detective training that makes me a cynic, but have you noticed that your powers started almost to the day when your mother decided it was time for you to have a ‘Normal Life?’ I don’t believe in coincidence, Cass. Either she knew what was coming or.. she decided to finally allow it to happen.”
“Second thing. Wonder Girl sounds like someone who hasn’t quite made up her mind. I’ve been training to read people since I was nine years old. I figured out who the Batman was, by turning my gameboy original in to a mini-supercomputer and feeding it psychological profiles that I did in my spare time. So if I know one thing about you, in the time we’ve known each other? You’ve already made up your mind. You just haven’t figured out how to make up everyone else’s yet. That makes you about as wondrous as it gets.”
“If you need to contact me, without prying eyes or ears of any kind? You know how to contact me.”
Cassie : There’s a lot of what has been said here that, while interesting and something that might be nice to go into more detail on, has not been at all surprising. The big ‘reveal’ of Tim’s alter ego would have startled me before he went back to Gotham, when I only knew him as Conner’s classmate that knew things. That was why he’d been introduced to me in the first place. But when he’d left, something that he’d said had connected some dots that he, himself, had laid out in that conversation. I don’t know if that had been intentional or not and it’s a distinction that doesn’t really matter to me, either. When one of the talked of Bat Family turned up in my Mom’s office in the middle of Metropolis? I guess I knew. Taking off the mask was confirmation, but why else would he have wanted me to keep Conner out of Gotham? Not just Conner but myself, too.
Wanting to have a chat, subsequently, about the press junket? That makes sense, too. It’d be in his interest to know what’s coming. But what he tells me about when we met, and what he’d though? That surprises me. It also brings up the memory of the three of us jammed into Conner’s sports car with me on Tim’s lap the first time I’d laid eyes on him and that makes my face turn a shade of pink and Mom’s office isn’t nearly dark enough to cover it up. The truth? There was a point where Tim wasn’t even that off, though when I met him I think it wasn’t the case anymore. I also don’t think it’s quite the same type of ‘mark’ that he believed it was either.
What do I say to that? Baww, you’re sweet? Insist that he didn’t need to do that and he doesn’t get Conner at all? Clearly he does. So like I usually do, when I can be anyway, I settle for honest and earnest.
“I appreciate that you were willing to go to the trouble for me, Tim. I really do. It says a lot about you, but it’s telling that you can be counted on to go to an entirely different level for a friend if you’d do that just for some girl.”
This time his clarification/correction, makes my eyes roll slowly as I cant my head to the side like it’s tipped with the effort. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Okay. Wording semantics, my expression says, I’m just not coming from the mindset or background where I would ever pair the word ‘Agenda’ with what I want to do with the situation in front of me. There’s a different implication.
“I’m a pretty awful liar, so I’ll just work with what the good God.. either a great saying for me, or just the worst… gave me. I’ll keep an eye out for them and stop pitching the mail sight unseen.”
No question of who, what, where, when or why beyond what he’s told me, because if Tim wanted to tell me right now we’re perfectly well situatied for him to do so. Maybe he’s trying to give me time to let it sink in, to really decide if I’m going to do this or not. If I ‘meant it.’ But it was more or less go time from the moment I got out of that dressing room at the convention. I just hadn’t known it yet. His ‘denial’ of a veto for whatever’s coming might stick in someone else’s craw, but in this case it doesn’t mine. He already knows I want to help, and if it’s someone that really needs it? I’m going to be practically unable to help myself.
“My personal thought is mostly option A. They kicked in on my sixteenth birthday. Like. To the day. I don’t know if it’s some magically significant age to that crowd, or some sort of agreement… I haven’t really asked. I probably should. I just wasn’t in a big hurry to get a handle on all of this. I guess I figured I had time.”
But you never can know if you do, can you? My lips purse, and I’m reminded of just how terribly I feel for Tim and what’s happened in his life. Apparently personal and ‘professional.’ He probably believed he had more of that as well, and here we are. I’m pretty sure none of us are really old enough for the situation at hand, and yet here we are. Fortunately he distracts me from the sadness that’s probably starting to show on my face by his talk of supercomputer hand helds and I let out a low whistle, accompanying a raised eyebrow.
“What is it with boys I know and not sleeping? I’m never going to buy you needing me to tutor you or show you anything ever again you realize.”
I’m smart. I’m very smart actually, and while some people like to tease me about it and how I’ll tell you to your face how clever I am? I don’t typically go into exactly how much smarter I am. I’m gifted in pretty much every sense of the word. Don’t need to be a rocket scientist (or a demi-goddess) to pick up on exactly how much of another level Tim’s on. He’s not even being braggy, so if I correlate that to how I talk about my intellect?
“Smoke signal and a thrift store pager? Laser eyebeam cloud writing? ..yeah I don’t have those still so probably not eyebeam anything. Are you going to join me for this cheesecake you wanted before you…”
I pause, mid-reach for the box I’d brought with me as my eyes sweep the room for some of the utensils that are invariably in here for hastily grabbed meals and snacks, and then purse my lips again. This time in thought as I focus on Tim, and with all the effort of coming here when we’re already secure and in privacy and not giving me the dossier now…
“Huh. Well. That’s crafty and a hair Machiavellian. Next time I see you in person, then.”
by Michele | Apr 16, 2017 | Chronicles
Conner : It isn’t easy being a super powered person in this world. It all started in the good ol’ forties, when the War was winding down and people were just starting to think about what would be the next step in the arms race. Nuclear power was in it’s infancy, but it had already been accomplished and America won. Just ask Japan. What or should I say ‘Who’ was next?
The Justice Society had gone in to the Great War as unknowns, but came out of it heroes. The spotlight was on them, yet as soon as the ticker tape parades ended they were under a very different microscope. Eventually their fame faded and they were forced in to the shadows out of a sense of self-preservation. Nuclear Weapons gave a country power, but only so much as mutual annihilation would allow. There had to be a next step and that proved to be right in front of the politicians faces.
At first it began as nothing more than observation. The Senate created a policy allowing for the monitoring of meta-humans for the purpose of collecting data in order to properly plan for the contingency of ‘What if?’ What if the next Atom was a bad guy? So began the ball rolling. As time passed, the politicians were able to slowly put focus not upon the many good deeds, but draw out the drama of the few bad. Giving life to the one thing that drives Humanity most: Fear.
Enter the Superman. Loved as a Champion. Favored as a deity. His story was the tipping point. As with any great Hero, you must have a villain. Superman had many. Each one nastier, trickier and more deadly than the last. With each Victory, Superman created the momentum that would power his greatest adversary to victory. My Father. Alexander Luthor. Better known as President of the United States of America. For Life.
Each battle Superman fought, and won, still came with casualties. Luthor highlighted each of them. He became the Voice of the Voiceless. Framing himself as a Hero in his own right, he battled for control over Metas as if they were any gun. Still Superman persevered. The adulation of many kept him above reproach. Until one day he simply …left.
No one knows why. Although the story that the Daily Planet told is that he chose to leave before he was forced to pick between being Superman and being a weapon for the government. Any government. They sold the story that he would return one day. When the time was right and the world was ready to accept rise above the pettiness of politicians seeking power. If the story is true? Then little did Superman know that he had played right in to the hands of his greatest enemy.
Free of Superman’s vigilance, Luthor was able to effect change. Preying upon the fear of what might happen without Superman to protect them? He empowered an Agency meant only to watch, to observe and catalog to act as a tool with which to build an army of super powered soldiers. Furthermore he did not need the Superman to bend his knee to the authority of the United States. Not when he had his very own Superman growing in a vat beneath Capitol Hill.
“Come on. Keep up. And stop pouting. This,” pointing toward Cassandra Sandsmark, but not at her so much as the outfit that she is wearing, “Was your idea. Oh don’t even try it. All that talk about the good I could do with my powers. You know damned well that I am not ever gonna do that without the proper motivation.”
“Blah blah blah, with great power comes even greater responsiblaaaaaaaaaagh…… your ass in spandex motivates me. Not some loser quote out of a poorly written comic book. Besides. What else were you going to do tonight? Sit on the couch and beg your mom to let you skip your Senior Year, to go on the big dig in Khandaq again for the six thousandth time?”
Cassie : I missed a lot of the hubbub about Superman. As much as you can really miss something like that, I mean. He was global news. But there’s a degree of frenzy that comes when you’re dealing with a Hometown Hero, when you actually have the possibility of seeing the Man of Steel during your daily commute, or maybe being part of the fallout of something yourself. He was gone by the time that Mom and I settled here in Metropolis, in hindsight I can’t help but wonder if maybe that was part of the reason she chose it. The timing and the location. Or maybe it was just removing a last hesitation she might have had, because the rest is too easy to explain. The Museum she is posted with is prestigious, the amount of ancient material there pretty astonishing. I only had two years left of ‘high school age’ so that too was kind of a now or never situation if she really had wanted to continue the grand scheme to force me through the high school experience.
It’s not that bad. Really. High school. I doubt St. Mary’s is really a true experience for American High School, more like greatly amplified stakes and bitchery. If one thing’s true here that I’m sure is also true in public school though, it’s the fact that if you run the place? It’s a lot easier on your sanity. It’s not exactly what I’d wanted, I had wanted to just get it over with, with minimum participation from me. But here we are. Not literally though.
Where we are right now is something entirely different. With nothing to do with why I’d originally just wanted to blend in. Now it’s just that much more important. There’s absolutely no fitting in right now, with anyone except the boy I’m with. Normal people don’t wear spandex. Not unless they’re at the gym or making questionable wardrobe choices. And I’m fairly sure this goes beyond spandex. Plucking absently at the fabric on my hip is kind of an exercise in futility, it’s almost too tight to even pull at.
He’s right. I am pouting. Just a little. It happens anytime I get cornered into doing something I don’t really want to. And this time it really is my fault. I manage Conner. It’s like, a full time job. And sometimes all that expert managing means that I have to do something absolutely ridiculous like let him dress me up like a superhero, even though I spend 99% of my time making it look like I’m just what I should be. A normal, if smart and talented, teenager.
“I was not. I wouldn’t even have to skip it, I could pass all of the tests right now. People test out and graduate all the time. Some much younger than me, I mean. I’m practically underachieving for what I’m capable of.”
Giving up on messing with the red material, I let out a huff of air and plant my fists on my hips.
“And with the time difference, if the school thing is really her reason I can’t go, I could totally do both. It takes me almost as much time to get to school in the morning as it would to fly back and forth.”
For once, this round of ire isn’t really directed at Conner. He just happens to be here to hear it. I’m just grouchy, and it isn’t fair.
“Whatever. Lets just…do this…but. Really. This thing couldn’t have been cut higher?”
I don’t even try to tug the top of the ‘uniform’ up higher. I’ve tried a million times. It’s secure and not going to budge. Which is…good and bad for my self-esteem and sense of modesty.
Conner : “You know as well as I do that you’re not there to get an education from the professors,” because if there’s one thing anyone knows, if you’ve ever spoken to Cassie for more than a heartbeat, is that she’s smart and you don’t even have to ask her for her to tell you. “You’re there for the experience. Which, I might add, is why your Mother happens to love me.”
“I make you experience everything.”
There’s no blush. Why would I blush about stating the absolute truth. So what if there’s part of the experience(s) that should be mortifying. It isn’t to me. I’m pretty much oblivious to the social nicety of being abashed. It’s not my forte. But that gives Cassie something to do. She worries, a little too much, about what people think. Or how other people feel. In a way, it makes up for my sociopathic lack of the very same sense of ‘give a damn.’ Cassie cares about people, I care about Cassie.
The real problem for the two of us? Is that I’m not a sociopath. They lack the ability to care for social norms. In many cases they lack the ability to care for others. That’s not the case with me. I can feel all the emotions anyone else can. I just grew up in a holographic representation of this world. Where the programmers coded in things just to test my reactions. So much, so often, that once I was empowered with my abilities enough to recognize the world beyond the holograms? All I actually learned was how to numb myself to the world around me. I suppose that makes me something of a highly functional sociopath, with psychopathic tendencies, but.. whatever. That’s not what I am Today!
Today, I’m Superman. And what better place to come out of the proverbial super-closet?
Comicon.
“Also. How come it’s okay for you to use your Goddess Brain to graduate early? But you say it’s not okay for me to use my powers to read the test answers?” Oh, this is one of those perfect times when I’ve got her right where I want her. Because she can’t really argue with me on this. “Hey. We’ve been over this before. Can you prove you’re not super-smart because of good old fashion godbrain? Cheaters never prosper, right?”
With that I’m darting closer. Close enough, in fact, just to get my hand upon her’s in order to tug her out of the dressing room. Dressing Rooms, that are normally reserved for V.i.P types. Of which we are. Or rather, I am. I’m an invited guest after all. Here at my Dad’s request. He wants the world to see that America hasn’t lost it’s Big Gun. It’s all an act, that I wouldn’t be bothered with. If not for the girl next to me. She’s the only thing super about this Boy, really. That same tug that pulls her in to the air, sends us swooshing toward the entrance to the stage. Which leads out to an official looking press conference. All of whom are waiting for the big unveil.
They have no idea what’s coming. And neither does Cassie. Until we fly right through the big ‘curtain’ and the lights of cameras start to go off. “Golly. Your Mom is going to be so pissed.”
Cassie : “I can experience it, and still experience some other once in a lifetime things! I thought you wanted me to use my powers more. That would definitely be an exercise in flight practice. High speed flight practice.”
He’s not the one I need to convince though, we both know that. And if I’ve learned anything lately it’s that my Mother isn’t going to have her mind swayed unless she was already inclined in that direction anyway. She doesn’t seem to be this time, and I don’t like it. At all. The only other time she’s put her foot down like this was when she insisted on school in the first place. I’d always gotten to go on digs with her before. I’d always gotten to be there, and the fact that I’m not being allowed this time makes me more suspicious than sulky, to be honest.
“Yes, I can. Because Mom’s smarter than I am and she’s one hundred percent mortally normal. And even if there wasn’t that, I can’t help the brain. It was like this before the physical powers turned up, if it even is a power, and if you go by mythology there was a whole lot of pretty dumb Gods. And even if we ignore that, it’s active versus inactive cheating. You would consciously be taking someone else’s answers. And we both know you don’t need to.”
I started jabbing a finger into his chest at some point in the middle of that rant, and I hadn’t really meant to. Not like I’m going to hurt him, but again the arguing is more just a manifestation of my frustration. Something that the costume and where we are isn’t really helping. Now, him in costume? That’s something I’m on board with. I mean. Look at him. Then I realize I’m only really jabbing him in the chest because he’s gotten close enough for it, and that jabbing hand is all too easily grabbed and used to haul me out of the ‘safety’ of the dressing room. Out into ‘public’ in what’s more covering than my school uniform I suppose, but leaves nothing to the imagination because. Spandex.
Fine. We’ll go show off for the geeks in the area, pose for some pictures with people that think we’re dressed up and… oh…crap… we’re in the air? We’re in the air. Not a strange place for me, I can fly just as well as he can, but not in public. Not when anyone can see and certainly not through a curtain and straight into the flash of bulbs. Gods. I’m not sure which is happening faster, the color draining from my face, or it shooting back up into my cheeks.
“Oh. She’s…not the only one. Did you know about this?”
This. Right here. Is a rhetorical question. Duh. He knew. He planned and maneuvered the whole thing. Me asking the question means I know he knows and I want him to admit it.
Conner : “Are you asking if I actively knew or inactively suspected that this is what was out here?”
See this smile? You cannot fake this smile. It means that I’ve actually gotten the better of something for once. In the War of Words, this time. Honestly, I’m not even just thinking that. Cassie let herself get to the point of ranting. Once she does that it’s pretty easy to maneuver her, because despite being one of the smartest people I’ve ever met? Well, the truth is she manages to also be pretty trusting. Even when she knows better. Letting her rant is the key to getting her off balance, but first you have to get her to rant. I picked the topic that I did, because I’m all too aware of how much it bugs her.
Getting her dressed this way, on the other hand, was multi-purpose. It got her even more off balanced, but it also served to make her think we were going to do something at Comicon that would be innocent. We should blend in here. But right now? We very much don’t and at least one of us is all too happy with that.
“Because, if you really think about it? I actively knew there would be cameras and photographers at a comicon. But did I really, actively, know they would want take our picture? Not really.” There’s not even an effort to be humble about the smile on my face. Humble is for suckers. Another tug brings Cassie along, through the air, towards the podium. “At least not until I saw you fidget with the top on that suit…”
“But. Really. What else would I expect when my father booked a press conference to show off his new Superman?”
With a little quirk of the left eyebrow, I’m giving her what the reporters will later compare to the look Superman gave when trying to be encouraging, in the face of adversity. Cassie will know it differently though. This is the face I usually make just before suggesting we do something naughty in the restroom at School. Her school. But with a shrug, I take that final move towards the microphones.
Cape billowing for me. Blonde curls swirling for her. Uncharacteristically though, I’m not seizing the spotlight. I’m sharing it, even as I tap the mic nearest to insure it’s on before speaking. “Um. Hi. I’m the new Superman and this? I’ll let her introduce herself.”
This is the moment the Cassie has waited all of her life for. She just didn’t know it. Actually, come to think of it now. It’s also probably the moment I’m going to remember most for the look upon my girlfriend’s face.
Cassie : There’s a fairly predictable reaction that would normally come about when he makes a comment like that. Saved for those moments of smart-assery when I don’t truly have any good response to make, because he’s turned what I said back on me. It’d be double swift in delivery for the smirk he’s aiming at me. Normally? Right now I would have punched him in the shoulder, with a fair amount of oomph in the delivery, in the way I can’t exactly ‘jokingly’ punch anyone because I’d send them through a wall or break their shoulder into pulverized bone bits.
Except we’re on stage. In front of like, a billion people and cameras and I probably shouldn’t start this…whateverthisis… by punching my boyfriend. Not that they know he’s my boyfriend. Hmmmmmmm…
“You’re so full of crap.”
Hissed between my teeth at him, and it’s only all those great acting skills I’ve honed over the last year that keeps the expression of displeasure being very, very obvious. It’s not perfect though, I think the best I’m really managing beyond that is just looking startled. Which I am. We’ll pretend it’s all the cameras and flashing lights though, more than I would have expected for a comic book convention. Conner not thinking people want his picture on a normal day? I wouldn’t believe that. Thinking they wouldn’t want it when he’s dressed up? Bologna. But the part about Luthor and the press conference? Double bologna. With a side of mild concern. If it’s actually true that he’s wanting to show Conner off? Something’s happening. Or happened.
He’s put me on the spot, in more ways than one. I may have talked about him using his powers for good but this? Is not a moment I anticipated us having for a few years at the very least. What do I even call myself? For a moment, there’s a petty want to introduce myself as myself, just to get back at his father and all the questions that would raise. But it wouldn’t just be his parental figure that’d come into the crosshairs, and mine doesn’t have an army of lawyers and PR people.
So what do I call myself? His is so easy it’s practically cheating. He’s got the symbol, and a name to go with it. I can’t also be Super something, then I’m just the other half of his coin and I can come up with something better. I hope. So who am I? Cassie. High school student. Daughter. Demi-goddess, and apparent eighth born wonder of the modern world. Wonder. Wonder Girl.
No. No. Superman and Wonder Girl? I’d sound like his sidekick. His subordinate. And if we’re really starting this? Boy, we are not starting it that way. Maybe it’s my general grumpiness that lends the oomph and certainty to my voice when I step forward to the microphone.
“You can call me Wonder Woman.”
Conner : With Cassie at the microphone and my cape swishing behind me, almost offering some form of cover? I give her a super-speed pinch of the butt when she finally belts out her proclamation. It isn’t that I knew what she’d pick, but I did know what she wouldn’t go with. She’s called my Super Boy more than once. Even her Superboy. But we both know my Father didn’t have me created to be Superboy. I’m meant to be something more. Superman, but his Superman. Controlled. Used for the explicit purpose of showing the world that meta-humans are best served when controlled. Wielded like any other weapon. With her though? She could have gone with anything. Any number of homages to the Gods, to her Father. Something for her Mom even.
After another round of flash bulbs, digital flickers and the chorus of questions that are sent our way all at once? I settle on one of them. Raising a hand to call for some semblance of silence, in order for us to even be able to give an answer. Superman? You look sixteen. Why are we just seeing you now? Where are you from? Where is the president? Are you forming a new Justice League?
“We’ve been training,” that’s the one I offer to the press. “Learning. How to use our powers responsibly. We needed to learn how to use our abilities. Before we could help you Folks, we had to learn how to help ourselves.”
So now you think you’re ready? What’s next? Are you forming a new Justice League?
“No. We’re not forming a new League. We aren’t here to replace Heroes of the past. We’re want to pay homage to those who paved the way, but we want to show the world that we can be heroes all on our own too. How can we fail, with Wonder Womanleading the new generation of titans to defense America and the world.”
With that? I’ve sealed both her fate and mine. Because for every eye that turns her way. Every single person who gravitates toward the person that Superman said is going to lead the new generation. Well. The truth is? I’m one more step in to the dog house that is to be my life for a while. Maybe that’s why I take a step back. Maybe that’s why I slowly slip in to flight and hover behind her. Giving the cameras a show of a POTUS proclaimed Superman behind a self-proclaimed Wonder Woman. This validates what I’ve said. Posing her as the leader, that I’ve suggested that she is. It shows difference. Alternatively I’m getting a headstart for when she decides it is time to punch me.
Probably a lot more the latter than the former.
Cassie : Conner’s in trouble. Big trouble. Trouble to the level I don’t think he even fathoms right now, or he would probably have skipped the handsy moment. …nah even he wouldn’t have, but still. I’m attempting to put on a good face or I’d be seething right now. I know about the group his father’s spearheading, where he was created and why. It’s nothing that I’ve wanted to be a part of and that played into me agreeing to lay low. Not a hard bargain to make, because the truth is this is all new to me, and it wasn’t something I was ready to show off to the world. I think I’d have to understand what I am far better than I do right now before I’d have even considered it. And even then? It wasn’t going to be this public. I haven’t even done anything to earn this level of attention.
But I can clearly fly, and I came her in a spangly outfit with the new Man of Steel. Would they take us so seriously if they knew we were just a pair of superpowered teenagers playing dressup? Because that’s what I thought we were when we showed up today. At least most of what he’s saying is true, or true enough. We have been training, usually up in the woods in Canada where no one was going to see us. One of us is responsible, and no we’re definitely not forming a Justice League. We have to graduate high school.
Wait. With Wonder Woman doing what? What am I doing? Other than once again being abandoned to the spotlight while he backs off in completely uncharacteristic fashion. So. In trouble. Well. Like so many times in the last year, I find myself with the option to look like a very public idiot, or to play the part Conner’s angled me into taking for one reason or another. This one just comes with a lot more rapid fire shouted questions. Where I’ve come from, where I’ve been up until now. What do I have to say about a superpowered arms race? I came here today expecting to have to make up an answer about where I got my costume, not any of this.
“While our sincere hope is, of course, that you do not need us… we will be here if you ever do.”
That sounds lame, and stiff, and not at all like me but I don’t really feel like telling them how I’m an actual, honest to goodness demi-goddess and how I still haven’t graduated high school and that I barely know what i’m doing. Yup. I’m going to be leading the folks that save the world, too. Apparently. He’s so dead. I’m not the trained PR showpony that Conner is, and so left in the forefront? I don’t stay there. Clearly thinking I’ve said enough, I join him in the air. Only I don’t stop, I keep going upwards.
This? Is probably the highlight of the day. Doing one of my very favorite things, and not having to hide doing it. Up, and out, over the crowd and away. It’s not anywhere near the fastest I’ve gone up to this point, but it’s certainly fast enough to leave a wake.
Conner : There isn’t a single thing about this that I regret. Except maybe the part where I let this all go without taking the time to oogle her in that costume before she tries to say she’ll never wear it again. Except, that I’ve already got her in checkmate on that angle. What’s more is that I didn’t even do that myself. She did. With that little promise she just made to. Well. Everyone. Anyone. Who sees the news or reads a paper or looks at the internet.
Her exit is actually pretty dignified. I was half expecting her to knock me in to the middle of next week. But what actually happens. The way she glides in to the air, then makes a display of her power, while doing what is always best (leaving the press wanting more, not less). It’s perfect. How long has she waited and wanted to do that? Without fear of being caught flying? Much less doing it in public, in costume, with cameras everywhere. The crowd we had just from a POTUS announcement probably dwarfs what has grown before us by the time she does that.
Leaving me in the odd position that I’m not used too. Holding the proverbial bag, so to speak. With a shrug to the crowd, ever the theatrics, I give them the moment that I know they’re waiting for. “Up up and away? Heh.”
The whoosh of air from my following her out is slightly slower, if only because I want to measure the sound of reaction. Is it applause or just a chorus of questions? In fact I’m much more curious if the reaction -I- wanted comes about. Namely the positioning of Cassie as a public icon. Irreversibly tied to the President’s home grown Superman. People at the comicon were wanting to know her name, but the people I wanted to one-up already did. And now she’s front and center. Positioned as one, if not -the-, leader of the next generation.
Whatever Cassie thinks. As dead as she might think she’s going to make me? I’ve all but assured that N.O.W.H.E.R.E. doesn’t make her disappear. They literally can’t now. Doing so would be the same as attacking Luthor himself. At least for now. So long as we actually keep Cassie’s promise.
Once I catch up to her there’s really only one thing for me to say in a situation like this when I know she’s ready to punch my face. “Is this a bad time to mention that I love your ass in that costume? And eh… that I told your mom to tune in to the news for the Press Conference?”
Cassie: I want to knock him into next week. I really do. But experience has taught me that he’s quicker than I am, unless I get the jump on him, and so I probably wouldn’t have connected unless he let me. And someone letting you punch them isn’t exactly satisfying. Plus we have an audience, and starting a superbrawl in the middle of a press conference probably isn’t the sort of tone we want to set for the future. A future that apparently is going to have me stuck in the forefront as the one to look to. I’m not sure I’m ready for that.
Am I even going to be able to manage this and not get cornered into folding under NOWHERE’s umbrella of influence? If I wanted to be extra grouchy I’d ask what was the point of the last year, if this is just where I was going to end up? But the truth is, while I’m furious with Conner for setting me up like this right now, I do still love the dumb jerk. He isn’t something I would have wanted to miss out on. I’m just going to casually set that aside in a corner of my brain right now. And try very hard to not want to read the news that’s probably already exploding onto the internet about who just showed up at Comicon.
I don’t know why I don’t simply rocket the hell out of there and away to…God. I don’t know. Khandaq? I guess it boils down to me enjoying the flight, the rush and feel of the air in my face for the first time ever without being concerned about who can see me, and who shouldn’t be seeing me. I guess right now they’re meant to. It makes me easy to catch up to, since I’m not bolting.
“Mmmyup.”
Normally a girl would probably like to hear that sort of thing, especially if they’re already a little self-conscious about how they look in a ridiculous getup like this. My trajectory slows a bit as I rotate so that I’m more facing him, because while I might have grunted off his compliment right now, the latter earns him the full brunt of the scowl that’s been percolating for the last ten minutes.
“You had better be about to follow up that statement with ‘and I talked to her about the bomb I was gonna be dropping before I dropped it,’ Conner Luthor.”
Conner : “What do I look like, a total asshole?”
Of course there’s a half-smirk that says I know precisely what she’s thinking about that right now. Whether or not that she answers. I’ve done something there is no going back from. Not to mention that she’s been working hard, very hard in fact, to keep everything under the radar. We’ve had this ‘pseudo-fight’ so many times I can practically have it in my own brain right now with unerring accuracy over every point that she would make. If she weren’t so angry that she wants to punch my lights out.
“Of course I told her, Cassie. Gods Almighty, it’s not like I haven’t learned anything from you. While you were in getting dressed, I shot over to the Museum and told her all about it. How you’ve been wanting me to ‘Help’ the world. How you think it’s my duty to use my gifts. How you want me to subvert my Father’s plans for N.O.W.H.E.R.E. and how you’ve been maneuvering me in to being the Man of Tomorrow, by stringing me along. While you fret over every little nuisance of your powers. How you hate not being able to fly sometimes. You know, because you’re managing me in to being something other than a ticking time bomb. While also living vicariously through me, because you’re afraid to be the one who does all those things you want me to do.”
“She muttered something that sounded a lot like it being ‘about time,’ and told me to watch for your left hook.” Wisking up close to her, ever defiant in the face of anyone’s fury, but especially Cassie’s. She’s positively intoxicating when she’s angry. Well that or I’m minimizing the potential for lightning impact. “Oh. And she kind of liked sticking it to my Dad.”
“But you’re probably in for a sound talking to when you get home. Mom had no idea you wanted to come out to the world. She also didn’t know you were struggling so much with hiding everything. Or that you were holding back to protect her.”
“Oh and she said something about how she thought you were smart enough to realize she’s used to taking care of herself. Since she handled your Father well enough.”
“Actually. Come to think of it. You might be grounded. So we should enjoy the flight while you have a chance…”
Cassie : He’s smirking at the same time that my mouth is making a similar, but opposite, move. Pulled in and turned down at the corner because yup, he does look like a total asshole right now. I ought to at least be more used to it, or maybe a little more expecting of moments like this, because he’s really damn good at doing something infuriating and at the same time passing it off as ‘no, really! I was being a good guy this time. I promise.’ Maybe when I get over feeling as if I had the rug yanked out from under me I’ll simmer down, but it was him that stressed having to do as much as I could to fit in. To make the whole him and me thing work. The cheerleading. The ‘friend’ making.
I’m also not sure if I am more or less mad because of the timing of his speaking to my mother about this whole debacle. Was it while I was getting dressed because it only then occurred to him that she might need some warning? Or was it just the convenient timing he chose because I would be too occupied shimmying into this ridiculous thing to notice that they were plotting?
“I didn’t say any of that! Oh my God! I didn’t want to come out to anyone, let alone everyone!”
The problem with shoving someone when you’re flying is that physics, no matter how much we might defy them otherwise, has a way of making it less impactful. I just end up drifting a little more backwards until our paths bring us back in close all over again. The upside, I suppose, is that I don’t need my arms to propel me forwards so I can just fold them tightly across my chest instead.
“And yeah, sure she can take care of herself. Until everyone we piss off, and you piss off a lot of people, comes after her. It’s not the same thing!”
There’s a great deal of grumbling, muttering and ineffectual huffing going on because I don’t know what else to do. Not only has Conner managed to corner me into some premature superheroing, but he also got me in trouble by putting words in my mouth. So maybe one or two of those things are true or half true, namely the flying part, but those are things I can live without for now. I mean. The operating suspicion is that I’m going to have a very, very long time to make up for whatever limits might be imposed on me right now.
“She voted for the other guy. This kind of feels more like playing along than sticking it to, Conner. I’m not ready for this. Unless it’s going to be all kittens in trees and old ladies wanting to cross the road.”
Conner : “You said all of that. In the same way you say things like, ‘We can’t go to Gotham, because reasons! Or ‘Look at my boobs, instead of eye-lasering the jerk who’s trying to flirt with me.’ Don’t forget the, ‘You shouldn’t abuse your father’s money Conner, let’s stay in the rattiest motel ever because I don’t want to even compare myself to the rich twits at school! You do nothing but say things without speaking. So don’t get mad at me when I start listening.”
Shots fired. Her arms are crossed, but actually so are mine. Just a slightly different way. Infuriatingly enough, I’m adopting a very familiar and judgmental Superman pose. I might be wrong, even totally wrong, about what she wanted. But I’m not wrong about -this-. She does this all the time and I’m not going to let her actually be mad at me for trying to read between the lines. Not when she told me that she was teaching me to be better. _This_ is what she’s taught me.
“Playing along, ugh. What happened to the Goddess Brain thing? You’re Wonder Woman now, Cass! You’re bound to his Superman. Unveiled at his press conference for me. If you disappear now? It’ll be seen as him either being too weak to control you or breaking his own promise. Since you spoke for him back there. The only thing he can do right now is back you. Try to control you, sure. You won’t disappear now. You have a seat at the table and you’ve got a chance make it mean something.”
“You weren’t ready for me either that first time we met, on the roof. You handled me fine. Besides what can go wrong? I’ll be right beside you.” There’s a small pause there, more for effect than necessity. Another smile. Just as cocky as all the rest, but warmer. “Also. For the record. I’m a sociopath and I can see that if you keep trying to live your life protecting your Mom? She’s going to push you out of the nest that much harder. For a girl who brags about how smart she is? You’re not too bright about reading her signals. She told you to pick a school, you’ve drug your feet. She made you move to Metropolis, took a desk job… and now she’s suddenly going on a dig she won’t take you on?”
“Your Mom slept with a God, the God of Gods, babe. Do you think Daddy Wardrums picked her because she’s a helpless hot blonde milf who can’t take care of herself? Actually. You know what, I take it back. I’m not sorry for reading between the lines wrong. You suck at teaching me how too. Suck.”
“Also. Just for the record. I’m totally winning this argument. Which is actually not good for me. So can we get to the part where you say I’m wrong, because I’m a big dumb jerk and storm off. If I keep winning, we’re probably never having make up sex and then I wore the fancy cape for nothing.”
Cassie : “Oh please you love it when people flirt with me because I hate it. And I’ll be mad if I want to because you’re choosing when it’s convenient and useful to listen!”
This would all be because I won’t let him invade Gotham City, wouldn’t it? Tim owed me big time already, he might owe me even worse now but I suppose there’s no way to even attempt to collect on that for the time being. I guess I could text him, but then he’ll just hole up in that place forever. Conner has taken things that I’ve said, or done, and taken them a bit to the extreme with a side of mixing them together. And none of those motels were ratty. Even I have some standards. Just. Maybe ratty if you’re used to penthouses.
“I thought I wasn’t going to anyway. I didn’t think we were going to have to worry about any of this for a while yet. My powers didn’t come with a manual, or even a quick start guide and I’m still figuring them out.”
Though, really, if we’re being completely honest me with the training wheels on is still more than sufficient in most cases for some hero work. I can already more than bench a tank, and we’re figuring out that I’m getting faster to go along with the flight and other things. I don’t really have anyone to compare myself to, other than him and he’s had nothing but training his whole life.
If it were possible to stomp one’s foot midair without looking like an idiot? I’d probably be unable to stop myself from doing it right now. Fortunately I show at least a little restraint and just keep flying. And haranguing.
“Ugh! You guys can’t have it both ways! Low profile and fit in Cassie, now tada! Superhero! No, you can’t finish school early Cassie, but GTFO!”
I’ve gone from making the highly displeased face at him, back to just scowling with an entirely stubborn set to my jaw. No, I’m not just going to say he’s right, though he’s maybe a little bit right about some things, but not about the entire issue at hand. And now I can’t say he’s wrong and storm off which is what I’d actually like to do. So I settle for something else, sniffing loudly and twisting around in the air once more into a more ‘normal’ flight position.
“Not for nothing. Kittens and a car wreck at four o’clock. Dibs on the wreck.”
It’s not storming off if you’re plummeting at high velocity out of the sky to save someone’s life. Page four of the Wondergirl guide to superheroics.
Conner : “That’s a terrible example. No. Really, I’m serious. You can’t finish school early, because you’re wanting to do it just to tag along with your Mother. Who wants you to be your own person in the first place.” There is part of me that thinks she’s losing this argument on purpose, just so she gets to punish me more by refusing to make up for longer, later. “And. The other example sucks too. You’re supposed to keep a low profile. As Cassie. Wonder Woman gets to have a high, nice looking, profile.”
Oh. Now I’m starting to be sure of this. Sinking feeling alert. She never argues this poorly. Something is amiss. Quick, review the argument and discussion up to this point. Look for potholes, footfalls and classic feints. When sure of those being non-existent, check to see if Cassie has been replaced by a White Martian. Hrm, nope. This is not how I imagined this would go.
“Uh. So. You’re still figuring them out. Are we talking about the ones you have or the ones you don’t know if you have? Because I mean you’ve been pretending to be a normal girl for the last two years. A normal cheerleader, who happens not to throw the class bully in to the rafters. A normal girl who doesn’t somehow land too hard when she’s thrown in to the air for a triple. And uh. What part of control am I missing out on you having, when you’re somehow not throwing snowballs through entire houses because you can lift a mack truck?”
“Oh and for the record. Can’t have it both ways? Hellooooooooo. I was happy to be Conner. You were pushing me to be a Hero. That’s both ways. Now I want us to have it both ways together and you’re mad? That’s actually not just a bad argument, it’s not even fair! … and would you STOP RUNNING AWAY, I want to re-check to be sure you’ve not been replaced by a shape-shifting alien…”
Ugh. She’s doing the thing. Where she storms off. Except not. Because she’s manufacturing a crisis. Right now. With how poorly she’s battling me verbally? I’m not even sure she didn’t cause both crisises, just to avoid this discussion.
“Fine. I’ll save the Cat. But that just means I’ll be home to talk to your Mom before you can.” Up up and away, my ass…