RKMBs Forums .::Important::. Writer's Block Hilarity Ensues

*click*

"The recorder is on, Mr. Du. You may begin your statement."

"Um, okay. What, eh... What was it I had to talk about, again?"

"Please narrate yesterday's events as clearly and accurately as you can."

"Right. Piece of cake. So, like... okay. Well, yesterday, uh, yesterday was the second day on the job for me and my partner Alfhild..."

"Please refer to your appointed partner through her registered codename only."

"BURN. Her codename's BURN. 'Cause she BURNS things. Mine's SNAP, 'cause I'm fast. Yeah, we're both puns waiting to happen... Erm, I guess that look means I should stick to the point, eh? Joke. That was a... *cough* Anyway, the day before yesterday 'Burn' and I got cleared at Mayor Campbell's office after they did a psychological evaluation on us, and then we were all set to go out and defend the citizens of Thunder City, right? Only our first fight with supervillains kinda sucked. For us, I mean.
"They were just kids, from around our age. One called himself The Vertigo Man (that's pretty self-exaplanatory), the other was a guy who could transmute elements (or at least that's our best guess), and the third was a chick who could... uhhh, drive cars, as far as we know. They were obviously new at this, but they totally kicked our asses. We went through four years of training before we could become Licensed Superpowered Protectors, but that day we acted like amateurs..."

"You were asked to narrate yesterday's events, Mr. Du."

"I was getting to that! Sheesh... So, the next day we were pretty bummed over losing our first fight, you know... Obviously. That afternoon, we were in the middle of our first meeting with the local contact the Big Boys appointed to us, Steven R..."

"*sigh* This is an official statement, Mr. Du. Please avoid referring to the organization we both work for through nicknames."

"Wha? Oh, you mean the Big B... The Strikeforce. Okay. So we were meeting our local contact to our bosses, The Strikeforce, when we heard an explosion about 15 blocks from where we sat. We got there as fast as we could (which is VERY fast, in my case), and we realized a department store had been taken over by someone. I went in through the front door and search the first three floors only to find out they were completely empty. When I got to the fourth, I found 200 or so hostages frozen in time by, uhhh, a guy called Martin. Martin froze me too there for a moment, but I managed to..."

"Where was your partner at the time?"

"Oh, right. Her. Well, she got into the building through the fifth floor, using a... jetpack... then she survived a big explosion using her fire-manipulating powers, and she snuck downstairs to help me snap out of Martin's influence, while he was away. Anyway, back to me, when Martin came back I fooled him into thinking I was still frozen and kicked his ass. I made him unfreeze the hostages and run away like a little girl. I hope you got that part, cause he really, you know, he was running and waving his arms in the air like he..."

"We get it."

"I coulda caught him while he was running, you know, but I let him get to the roof because Burn was there waiting for him. She tried to keep him in line by surrounding him with fire, but the guy was just insane, he jumped through the flames and didn't care that he was burning himself alive. He musta been using his time-stopping powers to freeze the burnt parts of his body, but still, he looked like a walking corpse. Eventually he collapsed and Al... and Burn asked me to go to the Hospital and get some doctors to help him. I took the doctors there and they told me to take everyone back to the Hospital, so I did, and stayed there talking to cops. Then Burn and I got back to our apartment, said goodnight, and went to bed. The End."

"Thank you, Mr. Du."

"What? No questions?"

"Not at the time, no. You may leave."

"Are you sure? I thought this would take longer!"

"Well, uh... if you wouldn't mind..."

"Mind? I got all day, dude. I had to give away basketball tickets to come here."

"To be perfectly honest, there is a question I've been meaning to ask you, Mr. Du..."

"Shoot. I got nothing to hide."

"What's it like to be The Swift's son?"

"..."

"I have... all his comics. Even before supers came out in the open in the 90's, I knew he was real. He's... my hero, I... People would call me crazy for believing in capes, but..."

"..."

"I actually got this job hoping to meet him one day, even though... he was retired by then, but I always hoped... and now that you're here..."

"..."

"I still have my Swift memorabilia collection... I had to sell most of it on eBay, but I still got... I have the conmemorative plate, and the undies... I was hoping you could get him to... maybe..."

"..."

"...just a little signature, nothing..."

"..."

"..."

"You may leave."

"Thanks, dude."

*click*

I pictured mansions, pools and shining cities on hills, not affordable apartments and offices that are clean and professional enough, but altogether numbingly bland. While Will's giving his statement I decide to wander around. I know, I know...I would never tolerate Will walking away, but there's a difference: if I wander off, Will can catch up to me in seconds. I could never catch up to Will.

As I'm walking I start wondering why we had to file seperate reports. Maybe they think we'll fudge the details otherwise, or something. Or maybe it's just easier to place us under the microscope for further scrutiny one at a time. A few days ago I would have vehemently disagreed with Will on this subject, but now I'm starting to get why he thinks there's too much formality in what we do.

Corridors upon corridors don't lead me anywhere interesting, so I walk down a flight of stairs. At the bottom of the stairs is--surprise!--another corridor. Since I already made it down here, I figure I might as well do some more exploring. This hallway is a lot more narrow than the one upstairs, and whoever designed this floor apparently didn't believe in windows. There's just enough light to always see right in front of you, but not much further.

The path leads to an enormous glass case holding what appears to be a treasure trove of mementos from a wide range of warriors and metas, such as a cape, a pair of boots(the Swift's?) and, amazingly, a Meteor Hammer. Unfortunately, not every item is clearly labeled, and of those that are many are in languages I don't recognize. As I study everything here I feel as if this trophy case could be a history lesson in adventuring. What eventually catches my eye and holds my attention is a beautifully forged, pristine flame-bladed sword. I can't look away from it...I wonder--

"Twelfth century." I jump at the voice. Either a very tall man just materialized right next to me, or I really, really wasn't being very alert. He's wearing a blood red cloak that seems to have absorbed him, and even though he's keeping to the shadows(not hard to do on this floor, mind you) he seems about middle-aged, with salt-and-pepper hair.

"How did you know what I was thinking?" Even though I asked because I'm trying to be friendly, for some reason I'm getting this overwhelming sense of...dread in the pit of my stomach. I must be jumpy, he surprised me, that's all.

"Lucky guess," he says. "You seem to be a student of the past, like myself. That's a good quality to have, in your line of work. A rare one, too." He's choosing his words carefully, perhaps because he realized he startled the Hell out of me. "I'm Christopher Trinity." I heard the name before, but this time it sends a chill down my spine. I hope he didn't notice, I'd hate to be seen as rude.

"I'm Alfhild," I extend my hand to him. He reluctantly shakes it, briefly. I've been called frigid before, but this guy I think takes coldness to a whole new level. He's not even trying to be intimidating, either--he just is. "You're our emergency contact, right?"

"I'm everybody's emergency contact at the moment," Trinity says, then quickly changes the subject. "You chose to study an interesting weapon, Miss Alfhild. There was a great and powerful nobleman who met his end at the edge of this very sword."

"Are you sure?" I ask. "This thing doesn't look like it's been used once. No scuffs or signs of alteration or anything."

"There are other ways to use swords, my dear," he says as if a little disappointed that I didn't know better.

I'm not sure what he's getting at but I'll bite. "What, you mean like, symbolically or something?"

He smiles calmly and points toward the flame-blade again. "Take a closer look and you may see what I mean."

I take another step to the glass to see the sword better. I noticed before that the blade was shimmering in the light, but that can't be what he--wait. It's not just lighting effects, it's...moving? I peer closer. Maybe it's not moving, per se, but it looks like it's in the process of rearranging...must be a light trick. Or maybe....Lord it's beautiful. The blade is like...little specks of light dancing on the surface of the sea, only beckoning for somebody to jump in and join them. No, not beckoning somebody...beckoning me. I gently reach out, even though I don't use swords I'd like to just hold this one--

"Aww, Alfie's made a new friend!" Will's voice snaps me out of whatever spell I was just in for a moment there. I blink a couple times and look back at him.

"Report went okay?" He looks disappointed that I didn't give a more defensive reaction, but I guess that shows how much has changed since we lost our first fight and won our second. A couple days ago, I probably would have exploded, but now...I'm not prepared to say that we've become friends, but at least we seem to be real partners. We even stayed up last night talking about everything that we did, and what we could have done differently. I finally confided the true extent of my abilities to him, although I think he already figured most of it out.

"The guy interviewing me was a bit of a knob but otherwise fine," he says.

Oh, yeah, I should introduce these two. "Will, this is--" I turn and suddenly Mr. Red Cloak is no longer there. I should have noticed when the weird dread I was feeling disappeared. "Wait, where'd he go?" I ask.

Will looks at me funny. "Where'd who go?"

"Christopher--" I stop and look back at him. Didn't he just see him? "What do you mean who? Didn't you just say I made a 'new friend'?"

"I was referring to this bad boy," and Will points to a statuette of a bluish-purple creature resembling something straight out of a Riley Martin drug trip. It looks out of place here, since nothing else in the case is even remotely sci-fi. "Who did you think was here?"

"I didn't think, he actually was here," I insist. "It was Christopher Trinity, our emergency contact. He must have drifted away while I was looking at the sword." I remember the other thing that was on my mind now. I point to the boots. "Those your dad's?"

Will steps up and looks them over. He slowly shakes his head. "Not his colors." Then he shrugs a little. "Then again, who knows? He could have had dozens of costumes that he ultimately rejected. Anyways, as much fun as staring at moldy old boots and children's toys sounds, I'm starving. Let's get going."

I slowly nod and agree. As we're walking away, one thought keeps nagging at me: how the fuck did Trinity walk out without Will passing him by on his way in?

I hate riding the bus, and not because I'm faster than they are. Which I am. Insanely faster, I should mention. I just hate public transportation and anything related to it.

I don't get why Alfhild insists on travelling like this. I could take us both back to the apartment in the time it takes this monstruous machine to open of its doors. Something about getting to know the city we're supposed to be protecting.

"How did your report go? Was that guy lame or what?" I try to make some conversation to forget that someone has probably puked in the place where I'm sitting.

"It went well, but he was confused when I mentioned what the kidnapper told you..." She gives me her accusing look. "Apparently, you didn't say anything about that in your report."

"Wha? I did too!" I exclaim, indignant. "What did the kidnapper tell me, again?"

"That he was gonna kill us newbies to send a message to the Strikeforce? That he and other villains were getting organized?"

"Ohh, that. Yeah, it must have slipped my mind... didn't think it was important."

"You didn't think it was important? Will, someone targeted us on our second day on the job! How did they even know us?"

"Dunno, maybe the Vertigo Man and his pals told their villain bosses about us after our fight? How should I know?!" See, this is what I hate the most about riding the bus: You can't raise your voice during an argument without the old guy sitting in the next row peeking back at you. "Watcha looking at, baldy?"

"Calm down, Will."

"I'm perfectly... Aw, fruck, now we're in a traffic jam! I missed going to the Bolts game because of the report, and now I won't even get to catch it on TV! I should just run back home and ditch you inside this stupid machine..."

"Using the bus is something we gotta learn to live with if we wanna be citizens of this city," she says. "Besides... from here we could witness crimes we might otherwise miss," she says.

"Bullcrap," I say. "The only crime we could witness from here is someone sneaking into the bus without paying the driver," I say... which is why I hesitate before pointing out that there are three speeding police cars making a turn in the corner ahead of us. I hate to prove her right.

"I told you!" Alfhild exclaims as we exit the jammed bus. I guess there's something about me that makes others love to mention that they were right and I was wrong. Right now, I'm too excited about fighting someone to argue that point.

She speeds ahead by activating the jetpack on her back. I catch up in no time. "Did you notice that none of the other passangers seemed the least bit surprised when we jumped off the bus and you pulled a jetpack out of thin air?"

"This is Thunder City. They're used to seeing crazier stuff than that on their way to work." She stops in mid-air and points at a parking facility next to a Mall. "That's where the cops went. Shit, I hope it's not another hostage situation..."

I wouldn't wanna repeat yesterday's experience either, but as long as I get to punch someone, I'm up for anything. This time, I won't even give the guy a chance to make any arrogant speeches. I'll just knock him out and hand him to the cops.

The only problem is that when I get there, I find... nothing. Well, nothing interesting. Just a bunch of puzzled cops looking at a frozen man. Not frozen like frozen in time, as in me yesterday, but actually frozen. As in: popsicles. He's covered in ice.

Alfhild arrives a few seconds later. "I'll assume there's flesh under that ice and the cops aren't just admiring a sculpture," she says.

"Should we talk to them?" I ask.

"I'll do that. You search the place, maybe whoever did this left something behind." I obey with the hope that the criminal is still around.

And sure enough, I find two costumed guys lurking around. This is gonna be fun...

As I use my torch to try and thaw Frozen Dead Guy out, the detective in charge explains to me that he knows about as much as I do about the situation, only in more eloquent words. Until this guy gets unfrozen and identified, there's no way to even venture a guess as to why he was frozen. My guess would be a gambling debt, the worst kind to be in if your bookie is a meta. At any rate, I'm thankful for the opportunity to use my weapon in a non-violent way, after recent events. The detective even says there's a chance this dude's alive, although I don't see how unless he's a resilient meta of some sort.

The ice is mostly melted when I hear something. Friction. Which probably means Will found something, a surmise that is proven accurate when I see a blur--two blurs! Uh oh.

I look to the lead detective. "You might want to clear the area right now, or just get out of the way as fast as possible." I walk off before waiting for him to answer.

Will and the other blur appear to have gone up a level, so I follow them there. They're keeping to a mostly empty area, it seems, as I slowly approach. For a brief second I feel my gun taken from me, only for it to return to my hands a second after that. I might be a little out of my league here, but I should try to do something to give Will an edge...

Suddenly I feel a hand on my shoulder. "It's safer if you don't move," a voice from behind me. Instinctively, I slam my foot down and throw my elbow back, to try to catch whoever on the toes and in the ribs, respectively, only I feel absolutely nothing but air and cement. He must be quick.

I turn around, only to see he's less than a foot from me! I swing the butt of my weapon to his chin--and it connects with nothing. Shit. I immediately jump back. I get a little flame going in case he tries something.

"I'd rather you didn't," the guy says. "Even in this state I can feel the heat a little, and I tend to sweat buckets."

"Screw you!" I say, and my voice sounds very shrill and un-heroic.

"Calm your ass down a little," he says in an oddly friendly tone. "Or I'll calm it for you. There's nothing to worry about."

I don't know why but I seem to be in an argumentative mood with this guy. "Okay, so somebody with super speed appears to be fighting my partner, and you come out of fucking nowhere, I can't even touch you yet I don't get to be a little afraid? How does that work?"

"We're on the same side," he says while stepping forward. I fire at him, and of course it goes right through him again. He sighs a little, as if he's dealing with a spoiled child(granted, I might be acting like one right now), then steps forward and clocks me one. I end up on my back, trying to figure out how I got here.

Oh come on, THAT'S not fair! I can't touch him and he can haul off and deck me? I don't think they taught us how to handle this situation. I struggle to get up when I feel his foot weigh down on my collarbone, keeping me pinned to the ground. Either he's heavy or I'm weak, 'cause suddenly I can't even move an inch. I look back and see two blurs still fighting, although they seem to have slown down. My opponent is watching them, too...maybe he was telling the truth, that he's not trying to hurt me? That'd be good, because I've come to the conclusion that this isn't just another Vertigo Man...I seriously wouldn't stand a chance against this mofo. Wait, 'we're on the same side?'

"Are you...Strikeforce?" I sputter out, still collecting myself. I must have a baseball-sized bruise on my face. Ow ow ow.

"No," he says. "But I'm on good terms with them. Call me Larry." Well, he's the first opponent who's given me his real name, so I guess that means I can trust him.

"Make it quick," I thought. "Knock 'em out first, ask questions later," I thought. Yeah, that woulda been one heck of a plan... if I wasn't going against another speedster.

I was ten feet away from the two guys I found lurking around the crime scene, when I saw one of them react. I'm used to people pretty much standing still when I'm at full speed, so it was kinda freaky to see someone turn around and look at me. The dude, who by the way looked mad as hell, ran towards me with every intention to punch my face (if his fists were any indication). I managed to dodge him at the last picosecond, inadvertedly running into the second dude... I tried to slow myself down before bumping into him, but that turned out to be unnecessary: I went right through the guy, as if he was some sort of projection.

Was he another speedster with vibrating abilities? Or someone with intangibility powers? I was trying to figure that out, when the first dude came at me from behind and tried to put his arm around my neck. I slipped out of his grip and dodged him again (which probably means I'm faster than him), but he aggresively charged back and made me run into a wall (which means he's smarter and more experienced). I got up pretty fast, more out of embarassment than endurance. My forehead hurts like hell.

I started running in his opposite direction, trying to give myself some time to figure out what to do next, but he didn't lose a moment and inmediately began chasing me. And here we are. Geez, this guy isn't planning to give me half a break, is he? If we go on like this, I'm gonna end up...

*#$%&!*

...laying on the floor. Ouch. He jumped on my back. Dude jumped on my back and brought me down. Who does that?!

"Now listen to me, you little shit," he says, turning me around and pinning me to the cement with his knees. "I got a couple of questions I'd like you to answer about the iceman over there. Every time you give me an answer I don't like, I smash my head into yours, 'kay?"

A small string of blood caused by my previous trip into the wall reaches my brow. "I got a tough forehead," I say, regretting it instantly. I should have used the small breathing space he gave me to clarify that I didn't know the frozen guy...

"Oh, mine's tougher, sonny..." He begins to pull back his head, and I can't do anything but close my eyes.

"TOBIAS! STOP!" someone yells.

"Eh?"

"Tobias? Your name's... Tobias?" Somehow, he doesn't seem so scary anymore.

"You, shut up," he tells me. "What is it, Larry?"

"They're with the Strikeforce, TC. They're also investigating the crime scene." The intangible dude approaches us, accompanied by... Alfhild?! Oh, I get it. She and 'Larry' got to figure out that this was all a silly missunderstanding, while I got my head smashed into concrete. How come she always gets the easy part?

"Oh," my captor says. He looks down at me, then stands up and offers me a hand. "Sorry, chap."

I get up on my own. "That's all right... Tobias."

Two days ago I lectured Will about why one shouldn't go around punching people in costumes, but even I would never have guessed that I'd be proven right so quickly. I'd rub it in, only I got all trigger-happy because Larry had the nerve to try to calm me down, so I don't exactly have the high ground on this one.

Compounding our mistakes was the fact that when we went back to the scene of the crime, Frozen Dead Guy had vanished. The police really didn't like that discovery, holding it against me in particular since I told them to clear the area. They're speculating that the guy up and walked away, while I'm figuring that somebody else swooped in and took the body away while we were distracted. For their part, our two new allies basically laughed it off. I get the feeling that theories of walking cadavers aren't too farfetched in their experience.

The four of us decided to bury the hatchet at this '50s nostalgia café in the area. Will told me once before that he needs to eat an extraordinary amount of food on account of his differing metabolism, but seeing him and TC(he told us to call him that, though Will seems to get a kick out of saying "Tobias") throw down hamburger after hamburger puts me off my appetite.

We're kind of just shooting the shit, me and Will talking about our training and TC and Larry talking about their life in the business. It's refreshing to talk to a couple people in our line of work that aren't constantly hitting on me, or just plain bizarre. TC's got a bit of an edge to him, but is charismatic enough, while Larry is so lighthearted it's hard to believe he can handle himself so well in a fight. Even if I wanted to hold it against him for decking me, he's so likeable that I couldn't.

The topic of teamwork comes up. "Me and Larry ran with a couple groups for awhile," TC says in between bites. "It can get pretty hectic if you don't have a base, you know, some sort of home to get back to where things calm down."

"It's even worse when your home is more chaotic than your job," Larry chimes in, and he and TC share a chuckle over an obvious inside reference of some sort.

"That's why I had to settle in a place like Thunder," TC explains. "I had too much to sort out, and people to look up, I couldn't take the grind anymore. I missed my friends, of course, but then Larry came along so that's one familiar face, at least."

"Somebody had to make sure you didn't get yourself into more trouble," Larry says. "The other great thing about Thunder is that we can get a free drink anywhere in this town."

"Why's that?" Will asks, either forgetting or not caring that his mouth is full and spitting a bit on the table.

"Because we destroyed a government building and a giant sea lizard the first time we swung through here," TC answers. "That's how me and Larry met, actually."

It doesn't register at first, but when it does my eyes go wide. "The Christmas Day Massacre?! That was you guys?!!" My voice embarassingly raises an octave.

TC smiles. "You know it. We went there to free the son of one of our friends, but unfortunately we found Larry instead." Larry playfully goes to swat TC on the head, who naturally ducks and swings back to hit absolutely nothing.

This is unbelievable. "I remember when that happened, and reading it, I totally worshipped you guys as a kid," I'm starting to ramble. Gah, I can't believe I turned into a starry-eyed fangirl so quickly. Like, omg!

"Yeah, that was the original group at that point," TC says. "Me and Euro, and Mick...we lost Jason that night, rest his soul." He lowers his head and solemnly makes the sign of the cross. Larry bows his head in respect, too.

"My dad said you guys were just a bunch of troublemaking maniacs," Will says.

"Hey, we were not maniacs," Larry responds. "Well, except for Nowhereman."

"It was before the media started to turn against you..." I say. I remember clipping the article and tacking it to my bedroom wall, refusing to take it down even after the superiors told me to. They'd hate to see me now, I bet.

"Thunder never turned against us, though," Tobias says.

"It's true, I got baptised in seven different churches because of that," Larry says. "And the women...whew..." Larry and TC both laugh over that one.

"Even today, Campbell and the governor aren't forcing me to register, which is good because that way nobody could possibly track down me and my kid." TC checks his watch. "Which reminds me, he's home by now so I should get back there to hang out with him." He scarfs down the remainder of the most recent bacon cheeseburger.

The four of us walk outside together, Will still eating. TC grabs a paper and pencil(where from, I don't know, they just suddenly appeared in his hands) and scribbles something down to hand to me. "In case you kids ever get in over your heads, which if you're at all like us you will, just call me at this number. I put down Larry's number, too, in case you get desperate." Larry opens his mouth to protest but TC has already disappeared.

"You can call us if you just want to hang out, too," Larry says. "I'll get out of your way now. Got a date in an hour, and I've still got to figure out what the heck she meant when she said 'dress appropriately.'" He gets a bit of a mischevious grin on his face. "Wanna see something cool? When I get to the curb, say 'watch out for that first step!' Okay?" We nod.

Larry takes a couple steps toward the street, and when he gets to the curb Will shouts, "Hey! Watch out for that first step!" Larry lets out a long, drawn out yell as he uses his phasing power to disappear through the street.

As the echo of his voice gets quieter, Will can't stop laughing. I found it funny, too, but I'm too awe-struck to laugh. I'm just staring where he walked off and eventually say, just above a whisper, "How...fucking...cool."

Will looks over at me. "Hey, don't tell the Big Boys those guys picked up the tab, alright? I need to save all the meal money I can."

When we get back to the apartment, I'm so eager to get an ice pack on my face that I don't notice I step on an envelope that was shoved under our door. Will's already opened and read it by the time I get back with the ice.

"Euphrates is throwing a party and everybody's invited," he says and hands the envelope to me. I look it over.

"'Invite everybody you know,'" I read aloud. Will wasn't exaggerating.

"I'm not gonna make the call to Martin, if that's what you're thinking," says Will. "So...should we go?"

"Do we have anything else planned for Friday?" He shakes his head. I ponder it for a moment and then shrug. "Sure, what the Hell. Maybe it'd be a nice change of pace, you know, to do something normal for once."

Friday.

Day of the party.

You know, the one in our apartment complex? Geez, do try to keep up, willya?

According to Alfhild, going to the party would be doing "something normal for once". I'm not sure why I feel like those words will come back to haunt us. Maybe I've just watched too many sitcoms. Or maybe it's the fact that we're both metahumans, and we tend to attract unwanted attention. And I'm not just talking about a band of supervillains falling from the sky and taking over the party... It's been almost 20 years since metas came out in the open, but there are still "normies" who feel offended by our existance. How dare we desacrate the genetic code! Bunch of microbiological hooligans, that's what we are.

The party is gonna take place in the football field-sized clearing in the middle of the apartment blocks, right next to the pool. Back in highschool, I'd be all pumped up for a night like this. Right now, twenty minutes before the party starts, I'd be drinking with my friends (I'm sorry, my "homies"), working up the nerve to jerk around and hit on girls later on. There's no drinking or excitement going on right now, at least not in this apartment. I'm just not interested in getting to know my neighbours, a bunch of middle aged fat guys from what I've seen. I don't like the prospect of hitting on soccer moms, either, which is what I'm gonna have to do if things get too boring. Really, I'd rather stay home and play Mario Kart, but Alfhild thinks we should do this, so...

I drop by Alf's room to see if she's ready to walk out to the party, and I catch her actually looking at herself in the mirror. She's not putting on make up or arranging her eyelashes or anything like that, but still... CREEPY. Maybe I was wrong about the "no excitment going on in this apartment" part...

"Hoping to bring a lady home, are we?" I tease. And then I just gotta drop this: "If she gives you too much trouble, you girls can knock on my door and we'll..."

She hesitates for a sec, as if she was having trouble figuring out what I'm talking about. Then she looks disgusted, so I'm guessing it finally hit her. "Thanks for reminding me why I play for the other team, Will. If I do meet someone but she's straight, I'll introduce her to you."

"Sweet!"

She sighs. "...I meant that you'll turn her gay, Will..."

"Yeah, I got that the first time. H-O-T-T! Then you'll owe me, and we'll all..." Hold on a second. Hold on a damn second.

"Will, are you okay? You were talking and then you--"

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"

She waits for me to catch my breath to say anything. "What's... wrong?"

"I just realized something!" I say with a little difficulty, trying not to break into laughter again. "Your name is Alfhild, which is kinda like Alf, and, and... and Alf ate cats... and... you're a lesbian..."

She picks up her jacket and walks out the room. "Took you a while to figure that one out, huh?" she says, under her breath.

"Because, because cats are also named, heh... pussies, and that's... and that's also how... I mean, that's... and lesbians, they..."

She peeks her head back into the room. "Yes, I got it the first time, back in my Senior Year. Now, you wanna leave my room, or should I kick your ass? Party's about to start, anyway..."

"Yeah, about the party... I'm not sure I wanna go." I'm gonna go anyway, of course, but I'm just making it clear to her that I don't want to. So, you know, she feels guilty and stuff.

"Come on, don't pus-- eh, bail out on me now. It'll be fun," she says, walking back into the room. "We'll meet people, mingle around... It'll help us become a part of this micro-society."

At this point I make myself look hesitant, so she keeps insisting. "Eh, I still don't know... We don't know anyone here! We'll bore ourselves to death."

"I e-mailed Larry and TC about this, so maybe they'll drop by later... Besides, we have to stop being the 'new guys' here at some point, Will. We're both painfully aware of the benefits of integration. It's always valuable for our kind not to be singled out, wouldn't you agree?"

What's next? Oh, right. Three seconds of reflexive silence. One. Two. Wait for it... "All right, what the hell..."

We head out to the front door. That went well, I think. Now, if the party goes wrong, I'll pin it on her and she'll feel guilty for a month. Maybe I could get her to do my laundry... But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's see how it goes first.

"You ready?" she says, her hand on the doorknob. "Sounds like they're getting started out there."

"As ready as I'll be."

She opens the door, and... we see 10 or so of our neighbours holding a giant sign that says 'WELCOME WILLIE AND ALFELD'. The rest are all looking at us, as we stand on the doorway of our apartment, unable to react. Euphrates is standing in front of the people with the sign, with a huge cigar in his mouth. When he begins to clap, everyone else follows.

I turn to look at 'Alfeld', who has suddenly turned red. "Gee, I'm so glad we're not being singled out..."

Whenever I think I have escaped the social awkwardness that has defined way too much of my youth, something like this happens. After they're done applauding us for...opening the door, I feel as though I should say something.

"Uh...thanks?" Those elocution lessons certainly paid off.

"It's all for you!" says Euphrates, and as he steps forward I'm positive he's going in for a hug so I jump back and extend my hand instead. Thankfully, he takes the hint and shakes it. He does the same for Will, who I can tell is having a blast seeing me all out of sorts. "Come on kids, let's get to your party!" I swear, my face would hurt if I was always smiling like this guy does.

Apparently a couple people already peeled off while Euphrates was trying to hug us, so they must have been just as interested in greeting us as we were in being greeted. The rest seem thankful for the excuse to walk away from us now. One of them hands Will the welcome banner, and as soon as their back is turned the banner is out of sight. I'll make sure to never ask about it again.

Before Will has a chance to get a dig in, I say, "Well, it only has to get better from here, right?" He rolls his eyes, and I can't blame him. I don't believe me, either.

When we get to the setting of the party, I'm surprised to see a number of kids hanging by the pool area. I haven't seen anybody younger than us until now...

"Whoa, somebody busted out a Slip 'n Slide!" Will says.

Before he gets away I put my arm in front of him. "Be careful, Will," I caution.

He looks at me funny. "On a Slip 'n Slide? It's a children's toy, it's not dangerous."

"Will...with your speed?" I could just imagine him barrelling through the slide and taking out several toddlers with lawyers for parents and getting us sued the fuck out of Thunder. "We can't afford any incidents."

Will nods slowly as if he understands, then gives a Henry Hill-ish cackle and goes off on his own. Maybe I should make that request for a new partner, after all...would help relieve a ton of stress.

So now I'm by myself. I glance around, and see basically everybody is talking to everybody else. I could find some place in a random conversation to jump in, or go to my fallback strategy: blend into the background and hope everything is over before I know it.

Meanwhile, a few blocks away...

Under a jazzy neon sign announcing Pakistani food, a slim guy with spiky hair and a heavy dude with a mini-afro observe attentively as a grey cat pukes on the sidewalk.

"Dude, you were right!" exclaims mini-afro with genuine excitement, as the cat stumbles away. "Your power works on animals! You could... take over a pet store! Or even a Zoo!"

Spiky hair chuckles. "Yeah, so you better remember not to mess with Da Vertigo Man, porky. I'll fuck yo ass up so good, you gonna think the floor is the muthafuckin' ceiling."

"Yeah well, I'll... um..." the rotund one struggles with his own words, as his face turns slightly red. "If you ever shoot fire at me, I-I'll turn it into air. Yeah!"

"You GOTTA come up with some new tricks, bro..." Vertigo Man laughs. "You could use your powers to turn oxygen into fucking beryllium if you wanted, but you're stuck on this lame fire-air routine. Whatta fucking disgrace you turned out to be! Hahahaha!"

"LAUGH IT UP, FUNNYBOY!" yells mini-afro, trying to sound menacing. Of course, his hurried and nervous 'angry' speech only makes his partner laugh even harder. "You're not gonna be laughing so hard the next time you try to light the oven with a match and, and the flame keeps going off! I could make sure you NEVER cook again buster, so, so WATCH IT!"

"That's okay, I'll just order in..."

"I wouldn't recommend calling this place, then," the black haired chick walking out of the restaurant says. "The chef's not gonna be doing any cooking for a while, having just 'misplaced' both his thumbs..."

The two young men feel the air drop a couple of degrees when their female partner approaches them. She calls herself Ice Queen for more than one reason. The obese one ineffectively tries to hide how upset she makes him. "Y-You didn't bring me the burger I asked for, then...?"

"They don't serve burgers in Pakistani joints, Circle Jerk," she coldly replies.

"Haha. Yeah, Circle Jerk..." Vertigo Man adds.

"THAT'S NOT MY CODENAME, GODDAMMIT! I told you I decided on The Flicker! I AM THE FLICKER!!!"

"You're better off with Circle Jerk, trust me," Ice Queen says. "But enough teasing the fatty... Let's get back to business. Did you ask in the store across the street?"

"Yeah, they never saw 'em either," VM replies. "I'm guessing you didn't have much luck in the restaurant, either."

"No, the guy would have told me if he knew anything after the first thumb. You did lean hard on the storekeeper, didn't you?"

"Uh..." Circle Jerk looks at Vertigo Man, and finds his hesitant look reflected on his face. "We made her cat puke."

Ice Queen lets out an annoyed sigh, and the vapor coming out of her mouth could freeze a mosquito to the death. Ice cold death. "We're never gonna find these Strikeforce rookies if you two lamers don't grow some balls!"

"WHY do we wanna find 'em, again?" VM asks. "Didn't we kick their asses already?"

"Yeah, so we know we can beat them!" IQ exclaims. "We figured it'd be a piece of cake for a senior member like the time-stopper to--"

"You mean Martin," CJ interrupts. "His name was..."

"Whatever! We told our bosses about these two new hero guys because we wanted to score some points with them. Now, since a senior member of our little society failed to kill them, if we succeed in doing that we'll probably be upgraded to full memberships!"

CJ nervously scratches the back of his head. "That's fine, but, uh... do we really wanna be upgraded? I'm cool with being a newbie, you know..."

"Yeah, I'm rollin' with fatty on this one," VM adds. "Have I mentioned our bosses gimme the jeepers? Let's go back home."

Ice Queen looks at her partners with deep hatred. As if her look alone wasn't intimidating enough, a sudden rush of cold air makes their nipples erect.

"You pair of fucking losers! We're not leaving this neighbourhood until we find those two! They've been spotted here a lot according to the database... SOMEONE had to see something!" IQ grabs her two partners and pushes them down the street. "We're splitting. You two take a block each this way, I'll break some fingers on this side myself."

"But..."

"GO!"

As Vertigo Man and Circle Jerk hurriedly walk on the direction she pointed them to, Ice Queen sighs again. "I can't wait to freeze their heads off once this is over..." she mutters under her breath, before turning away.

"This is bullshit. Who does that bitch think she is?" Circle Jerk says, once he's sure there's a prudent distance between him and Ice Queen. Even then, he speaks in a slightly hushed tone. "We're wasting our time here. Nobody cares 'bout those two Strikeforce noobs..."

"Let's go home then!" Vertigo Man suggests. "Let's just ditch the bitch! Fuck this noise, man."

"Keep it down...! Umm, people are sleeping around here..." Circle Jerk cautiously looks back to make sure Ice Queen isn't about to shoot an icicle at him. "Y'know what? Why don't we meet up with her in half an hour like we said, and just, and just tell 'er we didn't find nothing? That way we're all..."

"What? No! Let's just leave!" Vertigo Man interrupts. "Why wait for the cunt? She don't give a shit about us, I don't give a shit about her!"

"But then she'll tell the bosses that we're pussies and they'll... I don't know, they'll take away our villain health benefits. We don't wanna make her angry, is all I'm... I mean, them. Don't wanna make them angry. That's what I..."

Vertigo Man suddenly seems more level-headed. "Yeah, you're right. Those fuckers, they gimme the heebie jeebies. Crazy fuckers, the whole bunch. Let's go with your plan... But we said we'd meet 'er in half an hour! What are we gonna do till them?"

"I don't know, walk around? Maybe there's a burger joint open around here, or an ice cream shop..." Circle Jerk stops walking and looks around. "Hey, is that music?"

Vertigo Man points at the apartment complex half a block ahead of them. "Yeah, there's probably a party goin' on over th--" After a pause, the young man grins and looks at his partner.

Circle Jerk smiles. "You think we can get in...?" he asks, rubbing his goatee.

Vertigo Man picks up his pace and heads for the complex. "Wortha shot!"

I've walked around everybody once now, all the while looking like I was going somewhere in particular, and right when I'm wondering what to do next to look busy I finally see somebody I recognize. Hopefully he's a little more together than last time...

"Hey Trevor," I say as I approach him. He was in the process of grabbing a hot dog and has to push some hair out of his eyes to look at me. "Haven't seen you in a few days."

"Yeah, I've been drifting in and out," he responds. Suddenly he looks at a loss for words, shakes his head a little and says, "If you told me your name before I've since forgotten it."

I extend my hand and tell him, "I didn't. It's Alfhild Alfson."

His eyes pop open as he shakes my hand. "Now THAT is a Swedish name!" I try not to, but I giggle just a little. It wasn't the response I was expecting. Trevor does still look a little spacy, but at least he's capable of conversation this time. He cocks his head for a second, then asks, "Alfhild was the one who was guarded by the two dragons, right?"

This guy's just full of surprises. "Yeah..." I want to ask 'But how the Hell do you know that?' only it would probably sound rude. Thankfully he answers my question without my asking.

"I did a lot of reading up on folklore and etymology before going overseas," he explains. Then he adds, "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

"My secret?" I ask. If he's talking about the LSP thing...the whole 'secret identity' stuff was a recommendation, not a mandate, since being registered makes secret IDs difficult enough.

"What your name translates to, I mean."

Oh. I nod. "Okay, good. Yeah, don't tell anybody about that...especially my roommate. He'd never let up on it." I want to quickly change the subject, since I'm more interested about him than I am about me. "You said before that you just got back from Mandelovia, right?"

He nods. "Yeah, a couple months ago."

I hesitate, wanting to make sure I word this question right. "How bad is it?" I finally ask.

Trevor seems caught off-guard by it. He thinks for a couple seconds, then shrugs a little, almost sadly. "I got used to it..."

Before I can ask a follow-up, a couple of really big motherfuckers walk up behind Trevor. One of them puts him in a headlock, but friendly-like so I'm not worried. Well, maybe a little, but it's only because this guy is closer to seven feet tall than six feet, with broad shoulders and (ugh) a mullet. He looks like he missed his calling as an offensive lineman, or professional wrestler. He's got beers in both hands, one open and spilling as he continues to keep Trevor in the headlock.

The other one is about the same height as Trevor(which is a few inches taller than me), but a lot wider. He looks as though he hasn't shaved or combed his scraggly hair in days, and has such a gut that the mere thought of a crunch might make him out of breath or give him a heart attack. His mouth seems to be in a permanent state of being slightly open. He's holding a burrito in one hand and a forty in the other. Mickey's, I believe. Before Trevor can get the chance to introduce any of us, this guy decides to start talking. "Damn, Trevor, you must have a magnet that draws to you the best piece of ass at every party!"

Oh, I can tell this is going to be just lovely...

As I prepare my fourth hot dog while finishing my third, I notice that Alfhild, on the other side of the food table, doesn't look too pleased with her current company. As her brother in arms, I'm honor-bound to assist her in difficult situations such as these as soon as I become aware of them.

So I turn around and go enjoy my hot dogs somewhere else. While doing so, I accidentally bump into someone, getting ketchup all over their jacket.

"HEY! LOOK WHERE YOU'RE GOING, JACKASS!!!" he yells, wiping the ketchup with his hands.

"Sorry, dude," I apologize. "Didn't see ya there!" I just noticed he's a large one. Hope that didn't sound like a weight joke.

A second guy (friend of the first, I assume), quickly walks up to us. He talks to the first guy, but he stares at me. "What's going on? This guy giving you shit, bro? We gonne have a problem here?"

The first guy, a fat dude with a mini-afro, licks the ketchup from his fingers and seems soothed by the taste of junk food. "Ahhh, it's okay... Accidents happen."

"Dammit, CJ!" the second one, a skinny fella with spiky hair, protests. "I wanted to start some shit! You know how it goes!"

"Oh! Sorry, man. Next time."

"Hey, the night's still young," I add. "If you stand near the food table long enough, someone else's gonne bump into you eventually!"

"Yeah, guess you're right..." the second guy says. "I'm Mike, by the way. This fat fuck is Andy." Andy, who left for the food table the moment I pronounced those words, waves.

"I'm Will, but unless you arrived late, you already know that. So, you guys live here...?"

"What, us?" He pauses. "Nah, we're friends of... Joe. Yeah, we go way back, Joe and me. Us."

I nod, trying to remember if I've met any Joes. "Man, I'm glad to hear I'm not the only one who invited outside people to the party..." The second I finish that phrase, I happen to notice that Lance and TC have just arrived. "In fact, there they are! I'm gonna go greet 'em, if you don't mind."

"'Kay, I gotta make sure Andy doesn't choke on a sausage, anyway," Mike with the spiky hair says, as he friendly pats me in the shoulder. "See ya around, dude."

On my way to Lance and TC, I start wondering why Mike called Andy 'CJ' earlier. Hey, maybe they're capes too and that's his codename! Now that that I think about it, they did look vaguely familiar...

Trevor's two friends, Guy(the disheveled-looking overweight one wearing a suit and tie that have seen better days) and Barry(the monstrously tall broad-shouldered beast, whose name sounds more like "Beery" when Guy says it), have done something I would have previously thought impossible--made me appreciate the subtle wit and insightful conversation of my partner Will Du.

In between burps, they delight in regaling us all with anecdotes, usually involving drinking, and always ending up pointless.

"I don't know why anybody would keep hosting parties here," Barry says at one point. "These things never turn out too well. Last time Guy got us both kicked off the premises."

"Oh?" I'm not sure I want to know, but... "And how'd he manage that?"

Obviously Barry wants to tell because he's almost laughing too much to finish a sentence. "He stole a little girl's bike, crashed it into the grill and then threw up in the kiddie pool!" Barry starts belly-laughing now, drawing a lot of attention our way.

I glance over at Guy, whose expression has still never changed. He shrugs a little. "What can I say, I got a little carried away...it was Trevor's welcoming party, and we were all--"

"Wait," I cut in and continue before someone can do the same to me. "Trevor, you had a welcoming party, too?"

"Yeah," he says. "The fat guy does one for every newbie."

I can't help but roll my eyes. "Well, thanks for the warning!" I huff.

"Oh. Sorry about that. I meant to tell you, but, you know..."

Before I can press further, Barry gets a disturbing gleam of excitement in his eye. He suddenly starts waving his arms and trying to attract a crowd. "I feel one coming on, Trev! Everybody! Gather round! Over here over here over here!" Eventually a few people become curious enough to wander over. Eventually Barry is satisfied by the crowd, and...starts gulping in air, or something.

As I'm trying to figure out what's going on, Trevor gently tugs at my arm. "You'll want to stand back here," he says as he pulls me so that we're standing back and to the side of Barry by a few yards each direction.

"What the fuck is he doing?" I ask.

"He's getting us kicked off the property again is what he's doing," Guy says. "I'm just going to go wait in the car." He actually does walk off after saying this.

Before I can ask anything more, Barry lets out a belch so loud for a moment I think my eardrums are shattered. People actually hit the ground at the sound of it, and I think several car alarms went off in the parking lot a few blocks over, and somebody's window might have even shattered.

After we've all recovered, I honestly don't know what to say or do at this point. A couple of teenagers start cheering like crazy, and Barry bows for them. Most everybody else seems either shocked or repulsed. It takes me a moment to realize Trevor is saying something, but my hearing is still recovering so I indicate to him he has to shout.

"He actually had to go downtown and get registered for that," Trevor explains. "Barry technically counts as a metahuman." With such prestigious company, is it any wonder that most of the world hates us?

You know when you see someone familiar from the distance and you can't help smiling like an idiot as you approach them? That's what's happening to me as I walk over to Lance and TC. We had a rough start, which is common in this business, but I guess I've grown to like them in the, uhhh, hours since.

"Guys! Over here!" I exclaim, raising my plastic cup.

Luckily, the stupid smile is wiped off my face when I see who's walking right next to Lance and TC. Un-luckily, I hate that guy.

"What are YOU doing here?" I ask when all three arrive.

Steve Richards grins, but his smile is the exact opposite of mine. Instead of making him look like he's mentally challenged, it turns him into Han Solo's even cooler older brother. Gobdammit, I hate that guy. "My pals Larry and Tobias told me they met you kids, so I figured I'd come along to this party you invited them to... Small world, eh?"

"You know this guy?" I ask TC.

"We go way back," he replies. "You don't mind that he came along, do you?"

"No... of course not." I'm aware that I don't sound very convincing, but I DON'T CARE. Take that, Richards. "So, uh, anyone want a beer?"

"Yes, thank you," Richards says, helping himself to my plastic cup. "Honestly, Will, when heard you were having a party and didn't invite me, I nearly... What the fuck is this?"

"Soda," I say, as he hands me back my cup. That's nice of him, though I don't intend to drink something he choked on and spit back.

"You fucking pussy, I shoulda known it. Where's the beer?"

Richards is off to search for alcohol. Oh, Jesus, he's gonna be even more annoying when he's drunk, isn't he?

"So... how do you know him?"

"He once had an 'run-in' with a group TC and I used to roll with..." Larry answers. "You're not the only one here who got his ass kicked by us on the first date!"

"I see. Do you usually keep in touch with people you beat up? Is this, is this something you guys do?"

"Eh, Steve helped us on a case later on," TC says. "He used to hang out with the wrong crowd, but he's an okay guy."

Larry nods. "I knew he worked with Strikeforce rookies, so I mentioned our encounter to him and, whadda ya know, he told me he's your local contact in Thunder!"

"Yeah, lucky us." Damn, I hate coincidences. That's just lazy writing.


Meanwhile, elsewhere in the party...

"Dude, you think the bitch's gonna find out we're on a party instead of looking for the Strikeforce guys?" Circle Jerk asks.

"Nah!" Vertigo Man replies. "What are the odds of that?"

"Yeah, you're right."

Both young men then go back to sinking their heads in the beer-filled bathtub.

Euphrates is talking to Barry. He seems concerned but not really angry enough to throw anybody out. That might be because Trevor's acting as a sort of peacekeeper. I'm sure if I interjected it could calm things down, since this is supposed to be mine and Will's party after all, but I'm not sure if Barry's the type of guy I want to be sticking my neck out for just yet.

"I didn't have you pegged as the type to be attracted to the frat guys." That voice is the last thing I need to hear right now.

"And you don't seem like the type to have been invited," is my knee-jerk response. It's spectacularly bratty and I didn't mean for it to slip out like that. Regardless of my personal opinion of Steven Richards, he's my contact and we need a professional relationship.

Naturally, he rolls with it, which shouldn't annoy me, yet it does. "Heh. Well, I foiled your plan on that one, didn't I." His mood shifts on a dime. "By the way, next time you collar somebody, grab the nearest camera and make sure they see what you're doing. You didn't even get mentioned in a single write-up or report about Martin, and we could use the publicity."

"Then get a fucking PR agent," I reply icily. "Getting press has nothing to do with our job."

"It has everything to do with your job," Richards says, as condescending as a teacher correcting an unruly student. "Just ask your two new pals about the differences between living with a positive public image against a negative one."

Shit. He's got a point. I still don't see why this is our department, so I'll say so. "Why do we need good press, anyways? We've already assimilated, what does it matter what's on the front page of a newspaper?"

"It's not just the media," he explains. For a moment Richards actually seems unsure of how to say something, like he's considering whether he should level with me or not on what this is all about. Just for a moment. "The government's been sending a guy around to bitch up a storm about Strikeforce strategy in Thunder. This guy's been up my ass because they seem to think some heavy movers and shakers are descending upon the city...they're even expecting an opportunity to settle old scores left over from the Cold War. They believe Strikeforce is taking the threat lightly by sending a couple of greenhorns rather than more steel-jawed veterans like yours truly. And there you have it. It would save the whole organization from a nagging toothache if you managed to impress these guys enough to ease up a little."

This is a lot to take in all at once. Suddenly, both the bosses and the United States government are taking an extra special interest in our activities? As if we didn't have enough pressure! "What exactly is the government expecting to come to Thunder?"

Richards chuckles. "You'll know it when you see it. Sorry if this seems like a little much to drop on you in your first week, but hey, you're not the first to be baptized by fire." He calmly takes a drink from his cup and signals he's going back for a refill.

I figure I should disappear into the crowd lest Richards come back to torment me some more, only when I turn around Barry and Trevor are gone, leaving me back at square one. I glance around at the big crowd, thinking about what Richards said, and feel more paranoid than usual that someone or something is watching me right now...

The fearsome Vertigo Man and Circle Jerk (working name), super-villains in training, are currently standing on the roof of an apartment complex, exposing their bare buttocks to passer-bys. They are not completely drunk yet, but they're sure working on it.

"FEAR MY DEADLY GAS OF INSTANT DEATH, BIATCHES!!!" Vertigo Man yells to an elderly couple down on the street, as he proceeds to fart in their general direction. Even though it's just regular non-deadly body gas and it's coming from the roof of a two-story building, the old couple begins to run away in terror.

Meanwhile, Circle Jerk struts his exposed stuff to the music coming from the party. "Heeeeey..." CJ suddenly stops his arrhythmic white dancing and peeks down to the yard where the celebrations are taking place. "I think I've seen that blonde chick before..."

Vertigo Man pulls up his pants and inmediately pushes his partner in crime down to the floor. "Don't let 'em see us up here, you idiot! Whadda you, you wanna get us kicked out? That what you want? How are we gonna get more beer, then?"

"Don't push me, hypocrite!" the still de-pantsed CJ exclaims. "You let those people in the street take a pretty good look at you just now!"

"Yeah, but they weren't in the party, moron. 'Sides, if a bitch looks familiar to you it's probably because I banged her," VM states with a completely serious expression. "I'm not paying no child support. No way."

CJ rubs his ankle, sore from the fall. "Yeah, yeah, I get it... But you didn't have to push me, dude."

"Stop being a baby and, and act responsibly for once." VM begins removing his pants again, having spotted a group of children coming on the street. "You're an adult, for fuck's sake... *cough*... HEY KIDS!!! FEAR MY--"

"Who the fuck are you two?!" comes a booming voice from the stairs leading to the roof.

Circle Jerk clumsily gets up from the floor and faces the large Samoan in front of him. "We... we were... we're just... we were... I mean... we..." The young villain wannabe looks at his partner for help, only to find him frozen at the sight of the giant man. "We, we live here. Yeah."

"Oh, that so?" The angry Samoan crosses his arms. "Because I live here and I've never seen either of you PUNKS."

"...we're new...?" CJ shrugs.

The man's as of now pissed expression changes to one of pure anger, and his look alone nearly causes the dangerous duo to lose bowel control... which would be unfortunate right now, since they still have no pants on.

Then, he laughs.

"Dude! Guy!" the tall Samoan says to a not-quite-so-tall-but-still-pretty-big round person walking up the stairs. "I just scared these two guys to shit!"

"So... you don't live here?" CJ asks, noticeably calmer. Vertigo Man, on the other hand, looks annoyed instead of relieved.

"NAW! We live in the apartment block near the entrance," the Samoan says, trying to contain his laughter. "We only come here to get shitfaced and throw bottles at the pedestrians, and..." He begins laughing again. "Oh, man! You shoulda seen your faces!"

"What are you, a fucking comedian? Ha. Fucking. Ha." VM defiantly says. CJ covers his face, thinking Oh boy, here we go again...

"Thank you, I thought it was a good one too," the Samoan replies, completely missing the sarcasm. VM, ready to use his powers, is about to continue his provocation... until he notices the Samoan's friend coming up the stairs.

"Anybody wanna give me a hand with all this stuff?" Guy says, carrying several crates of beer. "Jesus, Barry, I don't know how we're gonna drink all this shit..."

"You lazy fat fuck! We drink twice for breakfast. You just want me to carry everything myself like usual..." The Samoan, a.k.a. Barry, turns to look at his two new acquaintances. "Hey, you two not interested in helping an obese man in exchange for some beer, are ya?"

CJ and VM look at each, and grin.

I'm having trouble concentrating, which is rare for me. When my training was coming to an end, I remember being so impatient, so anxious to go do some asskicking. Now the anxiety I'm feeling is based on a lack of confidence that I haven't felt for years.

In the past week, we've happened across the Vertigo Man and his two cohorts, the time-freezer Martin and a murder mystery. From what Richards just told me, that all might only be the tip of the iceberg. Martin indicated that his appearance was a harbinger of sorts, too. As awesome as it is to now count Larry Lance and TC amongst our professional acquaintances, their experience, ability and wisdom are reminders to me just how far Will and I are from being ready to tackle problems as big as what Richards and Martin are describing.

I'm hip-deep in this train of thought when I think something catches my eye. I stop in my tracks and blink, once, twice. I close my eyes, steady my breathing and count to three(a technique I used to rely on to keep my ass from bouncing off the walls when I got down some), then open. Breathing a sigh of relief, I figure the lights must have been playing tricks on me. For a second I was positive that I saw a man with short dark hair, receding somewhat, casually mingling within the crowd, drink in hand...a man who, last I had seen, was completely frozen inside of a parking garage.

Shaking my head, I glance around and notice that a few residents have left the doors to their apartments open. I guess they're being all friendly and inviting and stuff, letting people casually walk in and hang out. Finding a place to sit for awhile and think things through sounds appealing, or maybe I'd rather find a place where I can get myself distracted from thinking things through, so I head on over. As I walk through the doorway I hear some shouting from the rooftop, but I ignore it.

Steve Richards hasn't returned from his trip in search for more alcohol, so it's just me, TC and Lance right now. I haven't seen Alfhild in a while either... If she didn't play for the other team, I'd come to the conclusion that she and Richards were getting it on. What the hell, I'm gonna come to that conclusion anyway. I gotta remember to tease her about new boyfriend Stevey when she comes back. I wonder if that makes Richards a lesbian too...?

"No, but it probably makes you gay to be askin' that kinda questions," Larry says.

My jaw drops. "You... You can read minds?!"

"Uh, no..."

"Then how did you know what I--?!"

"You said it out loud, kid," TC says. "You also mumbled something about 'not getting a pony' like a minute ago..."

"Ah, my 16th birthday. Painful memories always come back to haunt me when I'm drinking."

TC laughs. "You call that drinking? 90% coke 10% rum doesn't qualify as drinking, buddy."

"Listen to the man," Lance adds. "TC knows his booze. He once became an alcoholic and recovered three times over in one afternoon."

I sit up and set things straight. "Okay, first of all, this is diet coke, thank you very much. Secondly, I could drink every drop of alcohol in this place in two seconds at super speed, and then get past the hangover in two more thanks to my metabolism... if-if I wanted."

TC shakes his head and grins. "You're not challenging me to a drinking competition." He looks at Larry. "He's not challenging me to a competition, is he, Larry?"

"He damn better not be!" Lance exclaims. "Not Tobias Christopher, the fastest liver in this dimension."

"Wait... Your last name's Christopher?" I ask.

"Yeah, that's what the 'C' stands for."

"That's funny, my mom's maiden name was Christopher. Two speedsters named Christopher... what are the odds, huh?"

"Not very big, I think..." He looks intrigued. "What's your mom- ehh, what's her name?"

"Vanessa. It was Vanessa," I answer. Silence. He's looking at me. TC's expression remains as stoic as ever, but there's something about that face in this particular context that creeps me out. For a second I'm not sure how he's gonna react.

"Well, whadda ya know," he finally says, taking a sip from his can of beer. "Looks like we're cousins, Will Du."

"Wha?" Judging from Lance's amused expression, I must look as confused as I feel right now.

"We're cousins," TC says. "My dad had a sister named Vanessa who passed a couple of years before he did, when I was like 10..." He glances away for a second. Guess that's as close as this guy gets to being emotional. He takes another sip of beer. "That's your mom, right?"

"Yeah... Wait, wha? You're my cousin?" The alcohol isn't helping me process this any faster.

Lance jumps in. "Guess the fast genes run in the family, huh?" he says, elbowing me. He chuckles to himself, indifferent to the fact that no one else seems to be amused.

"My dad was normal, as far as I know, but I guess the gene coulda been dormant," TC says. "Up till now I thought I was the only one in the family. Your mom wasn't a speedster, was she?"

"Actually, yeah she was, but she didn't realize it till she was like 30. That's how she met my dad. A guy called The Psyphon stole the powers from every speedster in Thunder City, and after my dad beat him they--"

"The Psyphon?" TC says, cutting me short. "What do you mean, your dad beat The Psyphon? The Swift beat The Psyphon, everyone knows that..." He puts down his beer and leans towards me. "Are you saying your dad is The Swift?!"

"Y-Yeah. He's retired now, though. Anyway, my dad beat the guy and..."

"Holy shit!" He interrupts me again, uncharacteristically excited. It's weird to see him like this. "The Swift is my uncle! How cool is that?"

"Pretty damn cool!" Lance yells. "You guys are lucky! My only famous relative is a guy who flashes people in New York."

"I'm The Swift's nephew. I still can't get over the fact that the guy turned out to be real! I used to read The Swift comics as a kid. Thrice-Man too, all those guys. And the meteor hammer guy too... what's his name? Hey, he's not related to us, is he?" TC enthusiastically asks.

"No, but he used to come over for dinner every once in a while..." I answer, to TC's delight. "I'm a little overwhelmed by this whole thing too, you know. I mean, my mom never mentioned that I had an uncle, much less a cousin. My dad never mentioned him either..."

"They never got along very well. After your mom's accident they just stopped talking, and then my dad..." TC has a somber expression. We're silent for a moment. It gives me time to think about what he's saying and reconcile it with what I thought I knew about my family... Everything makes sense.

TC continues. I think the beer's softening him up: "You know, man, that car crash was a terrible thing, but if our dads had been more mature they could have, I don't know, taken something positive out of it and leave their shit behind, you know? Now it's too late for that."

"Yeah... the 'car crash'..." I struggle with this for a moment, but I figure he deserves to know. After all, she was his aunt. "Actually, Tobias--"

Suddenly, we hear a loud thunder-like sound that stops every conversation in the party. We're all deaf for a couple of seconds.

"Was that... a burp?" Lance asks.

TC looks up to the place where the sound came from, the roof of one of the apartment blocks. "What the fuck is going on up there...?"

I think I know who's on the roof now. I decide to head up there, as sitting on a stranger's couch and talking to nobody stopped being fun as soon as it started.

I walk through the door to the roof, and hear the voices before my eyes adjust to the dark(became night in a hurry, it seems). Someone says "It's Trevor's friend--don't worry, she's cool." It is at this point that I realize I'm not entirely sure why I even walked up here...was I coming to join the festivities or put a stop to them?

In either case, I quickly survey my surroundings. We're on the roof of one of the apartment buildings, obviously. There are no taller buildings too close to us so we've got a good vantage point to look in every direction, the view stretching back into the city and also of the entire party area. Four guys--no, five, didn't see Trevor in the shadows at first--are on the roof with me. Three I recognize. It's good that Barry is one of them, actually, because if two people had that power--

He's already guiding me to introduce to the two strangers. One is a somewhat large kid named Andy who's growing an afro and seems to be avoiding eye contact. Shyness? From the looks of him he would have plenty of reason to be. The other one, Mike, has spiked hair and is clearly soused. There's something vaguely familiar about him that I can't quite place.

"Have we met before?" I ask.

"I hope not," he slurs. "I would have to remember somebody like you!" I'm pretty sure that was a pickup line, or an attempt at one. He's drunk enough to make it seem harmless enough, or maybe I'm just feeling charitable.

I sigh. "Sorry, I'm just...tonight's making me feel real paranoid for some reason. I've even been seeing things..."

Barry walks up and places a beer in my hand. "Here's something to settle the nerves then."

"I dunno man," Mike says. "When I'm seeing things I find it best to lay off the hard stuff."

"I don't think Red Stripe should count as hard stuff..."

I wander over to talk to Trevor. "You disappeared on me," I say.

"I did?"

"Yeah, you were talking to Euphrates, I turn my back for five seconds and you guys were all gone."

"Oh, well, we were going on a beer run and you were talking to someone so I didn't want to bother you," he explains. I don't know why I feel annoyed...I've barely said five words to Trevor so it's not like he should know that I didn't want to be left alone with Richards. Then again, Barry did just call me 'Trevor's friend.' Whatever, I'll let it slide. I need to knock this habit of getting irked so easily.

Everybody has gravitated over to the roof's edge, the one facing the party. Mike chucks an empty bottle, which sails and hits the side of a garbage can, startling a couple people standing a few feet from it. I look out and see that Larry Lance and Tobias actually showed up but they appear to be leaving. "Oh shit," I say aloud.

"What? I didn't hit anyone," Mike says.

"No, not that, I just saw that a couple guys I invited are leaving and I didn't get a chance to talk to them."

"That sucks," Andy says. "Maybe you can still catch them."

"I'm not that fast, but Will could have told me," I say.

"Will's your boyfriend, right?" Trevor asks. He didn't mean anything by it but that idea makes my blood run cold for a second.

"No, I only live with him." That got everybody's attention.

"You're living with a dude and he's not your boyfriend?" Barry asks.

"What is he, gay?" Mike interjects. Ha.

"I mean, it wasn't by choice. Wow, that sounds crazy, what I mean is we work for people who decided we had to share an apartment."

"That makes no fucking sense," Mike says. Finally, someone who understands!

"Look, can we stop talking about me?" I say.

"Yeah, let's not scare off the poor girl," Barry says. "She's the only thing standing between us and a total sausage party."

There's a brief discussion as to what game we should play...someone suggests a pissing contest--as in, peeing off the roof and trying to hit targets--but that gets shot down when Guy points out I'd be at a disadvantage. How chivalrous. So they settle on picking out random people in the crowd and attempting personality profiles.

After a few minutes and a little more alcohol in me, the game actually starts feeling like fun. Mike and Barry seem to be the most into it. "Check out the emo kid by the pool," Mike starts. "I'm saying he posts at 4chan and whacks it to hentai."

"Nah, he doesn't post, he just lurks," Barry adds. "If he posts anywhere it's on a blog where he mopes about how nobody listens to good music. I'd also guess that he owns a guitar but never learned to play."

"I dunno, you might both be wrong," I say. "Maybe he's got a deviantart account and posts some fucking awful poetry."

"At least we're all in agreement about the hentai," Trevor throws in. I laugh, and for the first time since coming to Thunder City I almost feel like I'm...among friends. Maybe that's just the beer working its magic.

Suddenly the air feels a lot colder and I shiver. Must be getting breezy up here.

"Wow, check out the chick who just walked in," Barry says. "She's got 'cunty' written all over her." He gestures at a girl with short, whitish hair.

"You ain't kidding," Mike mutters. She looks pissed...I wonder if that's what I always look like?

Then it hits me. "Wait a minute, I recognize her!" I exclaim.

"You do?" Andy asks, sounding almost worried. Him and Mike have taken a step back from the ledge for some reason.

I look closer at the girl to make sure, and I'm positive this isn't the beer or another hallucination. "It's her! That's the bitch who was driving the fucking car!" I'm almost shouting now. Adrenaline's pumping through me, as I don't want to mess this up twice. I start pacing side to side on the roof, almost knocking Trevor and Guy over the ledge.

"Whoa, what are you on about?" Trevor asks. All of them are staring at me a little concerned right now.

"There was this robbery, at a jewelry store a few days ago and that girl was driving the getaway car!"

Mike looks a little wide-eyed at me. "Oh!" is his only comment.

I don't have time to explain more. "Where is he? Where's Will?"

"Who?" Andy asks.

"My roommate, the guy I was--Trevor, do you see him?" I'm trying to spot Will in the crowd without letting the bitch out of my sight. She is so fucked only she doesn't know it yet. Finally I see Will, standing in the food line again(I also realize that he may not have been there the whole time, given how fast and how often he tends to move). Right when I start shouting out his name the band starts playing louder. It's like a nightmare--I'm shouting louder and feeling as though I'm getting quieter. "Will! WIIILLLL!" I thank the stars that Will never gave me a line about how he'd have me shouting his name 'cause otherwise right now would be really embarrassing.

Barry starts calling for Will's attention, too, even though I don't think he knows which one is Will. Guy and Trevor join in too, and then even Mike and Andy through their drunken hazes follow suit. Damn, is this what friends are for?

After what seems like way too long, Will finally looks up and sees us.

I'm up on the eleventh floor

And I'm watching the cruisers below

My heart's in the basement

My weekend's at an all time low

He's down on the street
And he's trying hard
to pull sister Flo

'Cause she's hoping to score
So I can't see her
letting him go
Walk out of her heart
Walk out of her mind

She's so swishy in her satin and tat
In her frock coat
and bipperty-bopperty hat
Oh God, I could do better than that

She's an old-time ambassador
Of sweet talking, night walking games

And she's known in the darkest clubs
For pushing ahead of the dames

If she says she can do it
Then she can do it,
she don't make false claims

But she's a Queen,
and such are queens

I look at the chick Alfhild seems to be indicating and I shrug. "Not my type", I declare, shouting so Alfhild can hear me over the music, but not too loud to avoid hurting the poor girl's feelings.

And yet, Alfhild continues pointing at the, I should mention, particularly cunty looking gal. She's getting more agitated in her pointing, too. Why is she so desperate to hook me up? Or, wait, is she telling me she wants to score with this chick? She's asking for my blessing. How about that. I give her one thumb up and half a smile. I don't particularly care for her choice of mate, sure, but at the same time I don't want to decrease the chances of a lesbian encounter taking place in my apartment. Even iif they don't ask me to join in (as unlikely as that sounds), it's still...

"THAT'S HER!" I hear Alfhild yell. "THAT'S HER, YOU IDIOT!"

"What do you mean, like... the one?" I ask. I'd run up there and ask again where she could actually hear me, but there's too many people looking right now (after the way she just yelled at me, that's not surprising). I notice that the guys in the rooftop with Alfhild share my confusion. Maybe little ol' Alf gets romantic when she's drinking, that's all.

Someone sneezes. Cold air breezes by and I look at the girl again. She's staring up at the rooftop, probably having heard Alfhild yell a couple of seconds ago. That isn't exactly love at first sight in her eyes, but then... this isn't the first time we see her, is it?

*click*

"Alfhild!!! That's the girl from the robbery!!!" I yell to alert my partner, but I find her gone. So are two of the guys she was with.

I turn back to look at the girl--but, wait, no I don't. You know why? Cause I'm fucking frozen, that's why. Yeah. Having superhuman speed abilities isn't very useful when you're a fucking idiot. Apparently.

It's back!

Finally I'll be able to update this:
http://sites.google.com/site/blamguard/archives/snap-and-burn

Rushing down the stairs without a solid plan in mind for what I do next reminds me that I rushed up the stairs in the same manner. At least this time a couple of ideas bounce around my head before I reach the bottom floor, and the apartment I had been in before. Only this time it's a lot more crowded and chaotic--people seem to be pushing in from the outside? As I take a few seconds trying to process this Trevor almost crashes into me.

"Your friend, or whatever, just got frozen by that girl you were pointing at!" he says, almost out of breath. You gotta be kidding me, I think to myself--no way we're THAT unlucky, right?

"You mean like, time-frozen?" I ask. Trevor gives me a look that lets me know that wasn't even close to what he meant.

"I mean like frozen, ice-frozen. She must be a meta." Shit. All she did before was drive the car, now she's suddenly a skanky Sub-Zero? Barry and Guy walk up behind Trevor, and meanwhile in the other direction the din of the now crammed-in crowd is rising even more, making it hard for me to concentrate. So my partner's preoccupied, therefore no flamethrower, and I'm basically trapped like a fish in a barrel until I can somehow break up this fucking mosh pit and think of something.

"Okay, Trevor? I need you to not ask any questions, but help me shove my way to the center of this crowd and get everybody's attention," I'm half-shouting now because of the commotion. Trevor nods, then turns around and talks into Barry's ear. Now Barry nods.

Barry then lowers his shoulder and barrels his way past me and into the dense crowd, knocking over several unsuspecting bystanders. When he gets near the center of the room, he stands up to his full height and bellows in a deep voice, "EVERYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UP!" And everybody does, of course. After a moment of stunned silence, he continues. "Now, this little lady here has something she needs to say to you, so just sit there and be quiet until she's done talking, all right?"

I could've done without the "little lady" remark, but this guy can get results.

I cautiously step forward, and try to assess the situation as best as I can. People have stopped forcing their way in and when I look out the room's window I can see why--the icy bitch froze most of the ground in front, making it impossible for anybody to walk on. She did me a favor, actually. She's also yelling something but I can't make out the words. It doesn't matter. I can't see Will from here, and I never studied cryonics but I'm guessing he doesn't have much time, so I can't waste any.

I look back and everybody in the room is staring at me expectantly. Or timidly. I take a deep breath. "Okay, everyone, she's after me so as soon as I step outside, none of you are in danger, as long as you stay in here until I take care of this...thing. I am licensed for this sort of work, so, uh, I need you to trust me. First, does anybody have any matches, or a lighter, or...?"

"I've got matches," Guy says. He reaches in his pocket and tosses me a small box that's half-empty.

"Really Guy? I thought you quit?" asks Barry.

"Only cigarettes."

"Oh, right."

Somebody else hands me a lighter, and another person gives me a fuller box of matches. "That should be enough," I say. "Now then, uh...who has something that I can set on fire?"

I take a deep breath, count to three, and hope that I've got everything I need. I realize at this point that the door appears to have been frozen from the outside as well. I look back to the mass of people that have huddled at the other side of the room. "Whose apartment is this?" I ask. One guy raises his hand. I get a good look so that it might help me remember later. "Remind me tomorrow that I owe you a door." Then I turn back around and kick the door open with all the force I can muster.

I storm out surrounded by great balls of fire, which is totally the awesomest thing I've ever done and I hope somebody is taping this with their cell phone so I can look like a real life action hero. That'd be good publicity to shut Richards up.

I melt the icy ground in front of me into slush so I can walk out and get a look at my adversary. She's staying still, being patient, just like I would do if our spots were switched. I step out in front of her, about fifteen or twenty paces away, the apartment to our left, with several flaming rings still surrounding me. I casually flick my wrist to send one fireball to my right and pray that she doesn't think anything of it.

"So here we are," she smiles. I can tell that if I wasn't surrounded by fire, I'd be feeling the air get colder again. "The Ice Queen, and some fire-breathing slut."

"It's almost like we were made for each other," I say...I guess looking like an action star is now making me talk like one. Only maybe my voice wavered, just a little.

Ice Queen, which I guess is her codename, is unfazed. "Nah, 'cause I can create ice, but you can't create fire without your little flamethrower, can you little girl?" She throws an icicle at me and it's reflex alone that saves me, as I throw a fireball in front so that it's just a stream of water that hits me in the chest, right over the heart.

She laughs, wickedly, like a witch from a children's story only convincing. She tosses a couple more shots in my direction, with similar results, but she's right: I'll run out of fireballs before she runs out of ice. I think I see an opening, where she suddenly stumbles and fires a couple wild shots nowhere near me(I hope nobody else is getting hit by those), but that window closes and when she finally stops, it's because I'm the one out of ammo. At this point she freezes both my legs to the ground and holy shit is that one of the worst things I've ever felt! I go numb from the knees down while the rest of my body starts shivering violently and involuntarily. I can't do a thing as she approaches, except start to slightly tip over backwards. Apparently she sees this 'cause then she freezes me around my neck, creating a sort of ice collar that she then grabs hold of to keep me upright. I'll admit it--this is kinda scary.

But for once, I've got an ace up my sleeve.

She looks down into my eyes, predator over her prey. Her breathing's quickened as she prepares for the kill. "So, girly, got any last words?" So fucking cliché. And so fucking perfect.

I can only talk in short bursts, but it's enough. "You need...to learn...to multitask...bitch." As I spit out this last word, Ice Queen gets knocked out cold(ooh, bad pun) from one punch by my partner. He's kinda scowling, but I can tell that was as satisfying for him as it was for me.

Will helps me break away the ice from around my neck and legs, as I steady my breathing a little. I'm feeling almost giddy. "Holy shit, Will," I say, starting to smile and barely suppressing a giggle. "We actually did it! And according to plan for once, with such a basic trick, 2-on-1 Diversionary Tactics 101!"

"I didn't plan to get frozen," he says. "But I did finally get to punch someone. So that was nice."

At this point, the crowd has regathered and become quite enthusiastic. I wave a little to them and their cheers get much louder. I can't help but smile. "How about that, Will? This ended up being a great welcoming party for us after all!"

Will's giving me a funny, almost pained look. "Um, Alfhild, I don't think that's why they're cheering," he says as he's wincing.

I follow his line of vision--to my chest. Apparently all that ice that I melted into water during the scuffle that landed on me made my T-shirt extremely wet, and it's clinging to me in a way that's accenting my, uh...femininity. I cross my arms over my chest, grit my teeth, but I feel my face start to turn flush anyways. Sure enough, the cheering starts to subside immediately.

The police show up conveniently soon, as if they'd been standing outside the building during the whole fight, patiently waiting for the hard part to be over. At least they're making themselves useful by helping unfreeze some of the people that got hit by Ice Queen's blasts. One of the victims, a guy with somewhat receeding black hair, looks strangely familiar behind a layer of ice. Maybe he just has one of those faces. You know, the kind of face that looks familiar behind a layer of ice.

As they load Ice Queen into their special meta-criminal-truck, I almost wish she was counscious so we could get to hear her yell stuff like "You will pay for this!", or "No cell can contain me!", or "This isn't over!". Still, even though she doesn't scream it, both Alfhild and I know that this really is far from over.

"She came looking for us", Alfhild says in a grim and concerned tone, still covering her wet chest with her arms. What is it with lesbians and bras?

"Boobs", I say. "I mean, uh, yeah. That's the second time this week. Kinda worrying, isn't it?"

Alfhild watches as the doors of the meta-truck close. "We have to assume that Martin's friends are still trying to make an example out of us. Are we putting these people in danger, Will?"

"They don't seem to mind." I point my chin at the crowd resuming the party before the cops are even gone. Some of them start skating on the slip n' slide. "They didn't seem too shocked to find out that we're registered metahumans, either..."

"So what?" Euphrates jumps in, overhearing our conversation as he walks by with a tray of frozen hot dogs. "So is Dennis from 3-C!" He points at a shaggy haired guy standing by a keg. He raises a cup of beer at us and smiles like an idiot.

"DUDE!" I yell. "Why didn't you do anything?!"

"Uhh..." he clears the hair that falls on his face "...I was in the bathroom...?" He takes the cup to his mouth and quietly walks away.

"Dennis is a fucking jerk," I conclude.

"Not all meta abilities are as helpful in a dangerous situation as ours, Will," Alfhild says. "Ask Barry if you don't believe me." She finally seems a little more relaxed now that the meta-truck has left the complex.

"That's the tall Samoan dude that was in the rooftop with you, right? Quick question: Why are he and the other fat guy dancing shirtless?"

"I asked them to give me their shirts... Hey, I had to burn something." She begins to walk towards our apartment. "Why anybody dances, I'll never know. I'm gonna go put on something dry... I just realized I'm freezing."

"Yeah, I can tell." She casually punches me in the arm halfway through the sentence, knowing where it's headed. Then she punches me again.

"That's for the 'Boobs'".

A long walk back to the apartment is starting to feel longer as random people whistle and make vaguely crude remarks as I walk by. At the back of my mind a voice is reminding me that Ice Queen didn't travel alone the first time we met, but that's not enough to spoil the good feeling of tonight's victory. Any other rematch can wait, I hope.

At that moment Mike stumbles in my path and seems delighted to see me. "There's my woman of the night!" he says, only slurring to the point that not every word is properly formed. Before I can stop him he wraps me up, crossed arms and all, in a drunken hug. I realize now that he smells as though he's drenched from head to toe in alcohol. "The two of ya looked so tight out there, man, way better than--" he either loses his thought or opts not to finish it.

"Right," I say, pushing myself gently away from him. "I kinda have to get back to--wait, cover me for a minute." I see Steven Richards lurking around and pull Mike so that he obstructs any chance of Richards seeing me. I so do NOT need to talk to him at this moment. Mike goes along with it, as I hide behind him and continue to walk along until I'm sure we're in the clear. "Thanks."

"No prob, babe," he smiles, as I realize I just gave him some rather mixed signals. I'm out of the frying pan of giving Richards a peep show and into the fire(as it were) of doing the same for Mike.

"I gotta go back to my apartment and get myself warmed up," I say.

"Honey, I can help warm you up any way ya want," he says. I really have to drop him and fast.

I look back toward the thick of the party. "You know there's a couple girls back there with no pants on?" Mike stares at me. "I had to take their clothes, you know, to do that fireball effect? So everyone's got their clothes off and it's a party, don't you wanna be in the middle of it?"

This suggestion obviously appeals to him as he looks back and grins. "I see what you're sayin' girl, me and CJ can go back there and pick up a couple easy points, yeah? Hehe, I'm feelin' ya. We'll meet up later then a'ight?"

"Or not, whichever," I say, relieved that alcohol can make others so open to suggestion. "I mean, if you've got a chance with someone else you'd have to take it, right?"

"Riiiight," he replies, smiling even wider. "This night can still get better. Take care o' yerself girl." He finally walks away.

Mercifully, I'm finally back to the apartment a couple minutes later. It looks rather peaceful in the moonlight. Almost tricks you into believing normal people live here and do normal things. After tonight, I think to myself, I'm ready to take a break from trying to do normal things.

Several blocks away, a large police truck especially designed to contain metahumans drives through a mostly empty avenue. The inner walls of the truck are covered with several layers of an artificial meta-inhibitor alloy, ineffective in small quantities, but able to supress the abilities of almost any metahuman if directly exposed to large amounts. This, in addition to the steel restraints and the reinforced exterior, make the locked-down truck practically impossible to break out of. Now, breaking in, that's another story.

The officers never even knew what hit them. All three had been crushed to death before the truck even landed on the street, colliding headfirst into the pavement. Ice Queen wasn't that lucky. The impact woke her, and before she could realize what was going on, the metal doors that contained her were being torn out and tossed away by a hulking figure. The massive being standing outside the vehicle stares down on her.

"Well, that didn't take long..." she somehow manages to say despite her barely counscious state. Her forehead begins to bleed, having been impacted by some part of the truck during the landing. "Are you gonna take me out of these shackles or--"

"Shut up."

She suddenly notices the much smaller man standing between her and the giant, feet firmly planted on the back of the truck (now its upper side). Of course, "much smaller" compared to a giant probably means he's regular sized, but she's in no position to assure that right now. The streetlight that partially blinds her while obscuring the features of both man and creature isn't helping.

"Thank you," the man says. "Now, just what in the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I was tr--"

"I said SHUT. UP." The man stomps what must be a military boot on the truck, making the delicately balanced vehicle tremble. This one, she realizes, is the scary one in the bunch.

He begins pacing back and forth in what little walking space he has. "Did we tell you to go and attack those kids?" He stops and looks down at her. "You may answer."

"No," she replies. "We--I just..." He menacingly raises his boot, and she silences.

"So then, if you don't mind tellin' me, exactly WHAT gave you the impression that you could go an' do something like that WITHOUT EVEN HAVING THE COMMON DECENCY TO CONSULT US?" Agitated after screaming, he breathes heavily until he calms down. "You may answer."

"Y... You sent the Time Stopper...! I thought..."

"We sent dear old Martin for a very specific reason, one that played out beautifully, if I do say so myself... And you, you MORONS, came THIS close to ruining the whole thing! Oh, yes. We know your two little partners were in on this. They're gettin' what they deserve. Needless to say, so are you."

For a second, she almost looks sad. "Okay. So kill me. I knew what I was signing up for."

"Kill you?" He produces a raspy, joyless chuckle. "You ain't that lucky, little lady."

Without turning, the man speaks to the thing behind him. "Bruno. I'm done here."

She watches a giant hand reach into the truck to grab her, unable to do anything but close her eyes and hope the concussion she's been fighting off takes her first.

END OF ISSUE 2