Tip Top was clearly bored. She had gone from sitting on the armchair, to slowly falling down the front of it, to sitting against the armchair, to climbing back up the thing backwards, and then finally sprawling across the arms of the chair. It had only been twelve and a half minutes.
Lowlight on the other hand passed the time by fiddling with his most recent invention. Right now it was a box, matte black in colour, and opened to reveal the cone of lenses inside. To the genius, what was a mess of wires connecting small components was actually a comprehensive system that he could manipulate by altering a separate hologram that had somehow become entangled with the physical stuff too small for him to safely move with his available tools.
He hated it. That he was doing what he was doing rather than the thing itself. If his work went well, the box would become a device he could use to better track his teammates, should they be carrying any gear that the genius had invented or modified. The components from the street lamp were still inside the box, mostly, though the rest of it were things Lowlight had obtained from the junk in his workshop.
It still hadn’t quite hit that his budget was being cut. That Sunshrieker was taking the repair bill for the street lamp Lowlight had appropriated from his workshop budget normally would’ve been devastating, but it was hard to care at the moment.
Something snapped in the box that wasn’t meant to.
Lowlight sighed. It hadn’t been an overly important piece, but he’d need to go back to his workshop if he wanted to keep going now. Nothing in the room was suitable for a replacement piece. Nothing that he could take apart and subsequently put back together, at least.
“A-hey! He emerges!” Tip Top cheered as Lowlight’s darkness field turned off and revealed the irritated young genius. “How goes the inventing, inventor?”
“Fine.” Lowlight packed away everything and sat at the table, his fingers twitching before it became too much and he stood abruptly. He stood for a few seconds, then sat back down. Then he stood up again to go into the conjoined kitchen and raid the fridge or something.
“Wanna talk about it?” Tip Top asked when Lowlight slammed the fridge and moved on to the pantry.
Lowlight ignored her and looked up and down the various foods, powders, and supplements before deciding that the assortment laid out for off duty heroes didn’t appetize him in the slightest. He slammed the pantry door shut, harder this time, and glanced at the television. It was a black screen at the moment.
“It’ll feel better if you talk about it.” Tip Top said from the floor. “That’s what my therapist says.”
Lowlight glanced at the older girl. She had slid down off the armchair again, this time head first rather than feet first, and somehow from over one of the arms. The heroine that Lowlight had wanted to meet so badly back when he was still normal was very different from the person she portrayed in front of the cameras. Tip Top was definitely one of the more funny and lighthearted heroes, only really outdone by Jumpspark, but the boy had never thought it was played down so much.
He had fantasised about her. With her attractive figure, closely and sharply cut green and gold costume, and with her general friendliness, Lowlight was far from the only one to have done so. She was even prettier when she had her mask off, and had flustered Lowlight easily when he first joined the team, but that was far from how the genius felt at the moment.
“Don’t we have the same therapist?” Lowlight asked back, dodging the question.
“We shouldn’t.” Tip Top tilted her head on the floor. “I remember something about that in the codebooks the SRA gifted us. The old Regulation skimped out on hiring therapists, had one or two on rotation in each location with nonexistent oversight, which predictably led to corruption, which led to some glorious fuckups.”
Lowlight glanced around the room, looking for distractions and seeing many. The problem was that none of them wouldn’t lead to more trouble, except for continuing to talk to Tip Top. “Such as?”
“Therapists manipulating vulnerable little kids like me into doing crazy shit.” Lowlight had to snort. Tip Top was far from what she called herself. “I think one even managed to convert half a team to be their own personal hit squad. ‘Course, that was before the Mega energy drinks started getting circulated. Getting powers isn’t nearly as fucky as it used to be.”
“I don’t follow.” Lowlight said.
Tip Top’s back slid down to join her head and shoulders on the floor before she replied. “Well, you and I drank vials. You sucked down your Adept’s Oil, and I inhaled The Caged Sun. Then shit went fucky, to put things lightly, and then you were throwing fireworks and darkness around, and I was walking more easily than before.”
Walking more easily wasn’t technically wrong, but it seriously undersold Tip Top’s power. She also skipped over Lowlight’s extensive and expensive testing phase where he figured out just what it was that he could even do in the first place. There was a huge difference between the fanciful ideas in his head and what the genius could make in reality, even with a power bridging the gap.
He didn’t point that out, though. He just sat back down at the table in a spot where he could see the heroine.
“Back in the day there were no Mega energy drinks.” Tip Top continued using her old woman voice. “People had to get powers the hard way, which wasn’t understood then, and is probably even less understood now. Best I could tell, your life had to change for there to even be the chance of a power. Since this world sucks, lots of people lost everything only to gain everything back when they could throw water around with their mind or whatever.
“So what happened was their whole life changed, and then they’d manifest and it changed some more. Then since genuine manifestations make what you and I went through feel like circa 2000 levels of bad CGI, the person at the end of all of it would scarcely resemble the one at the start. So yeah, people got all sorts of them issues.” Tip Top laughed from her spot on the ground. “I used to search heroes up and guess at what their specific problems were. Fun pass time.”
It wasn’t a pass time that Lowlight felt like using right now.
“But it wasn’t all shitty.” Tip Top raised a finger towards Lowlight, like she was gesturing for him to wait. “Some people had lives changed for the better, then got a cherry on top. Dime in a fucking haystack though, or that’s what the three disagreeing articles I read told me.”
“Things are better with the vials.” Lowlight said.
“Fuckin’ preach.” Tip Top agreed, then kicked her feet off the chair and climbed back up into it. “So please, tell me what you’re feeling.”
The genius frowned. His hands had acted on their own and started placing tools on the table in front of him even though he didn’t have anything to work on. “What do you think I’m feeling?”
“Well normally you’re the one talking my head off, not the other way around.” Tip Top said. Lowlight squinted at her, not believing that for a second. “And I feel like a mother duck herding my little ducklings around whenever the young’uns are around, and you’re included. And we have time to waste, and I don’t wanna put the telly on.”
“That’s-” Lowlight sighed as he started packing his stuff back up. “Whatever.”
“Well, we have successfully passed sixteen minutes of our four hour shift. Got any other cool topics to talk about?”
Lowlight didn’t. After another minute passed his twitchy hands won out and he got his tools out to start making mindless modifications to his gear. One of the first things out was a darkness generator that sprung up a field where light ceased to be and allowed the Genius’ many gadgets to charge with power. He decided to modify his helmet, specifically the part that displayed his HUD, since the seal had undone slightly and light had been sneaking inside to wreak havoc on his gear.
The field of darkness covered half the table and extended the same distance in the other direction. Lowlight tried not to think about how his power was technically mirroring how he was dealing with the fact that Jumpspark had gone missing. It didn’t act in the same way the powers of others did, since he couldn’t snap his fingers and make something explode, or fly through the air without a care in the world. All he got was ideas, and those ideas had a very limited scope.
Light, as well as the absence of it, was the focus of Lowlight’s acquired genius. Or his Adept specialisation if you used the old classifications. His mind was constantly awashed with inspiration to play with light in interesting ways, and to do crazily cool things under the right circumstances. Perception was a secondary focus that supplemented the first, and was very necessary when making things dark was the pivot of Lowlight’s power.
His inventions fell under three classifications. Stuff that made places dark, stuff that saw in the dark, and most importantly stuff that did cool things in the dark. His nightboard was one such thing, and was essentially a hoverboard that failed to work while in bright spaces, but let the genius fly through the air when it was dark. He had a zapper that operated the same, and was essentially a taser that only worked from the shadows. Not that impressive until you realised that Lowlight had done away with the wires and confetti by figuring out a way to make it work without them. Again, only in the dark.
The genius had also made reusable concussion grenades, portable barrier generators, and was working on something for short range teleportation. All of it only worked in the dark, of course. Outside of that stuff, Lowlight had figured out holograms very early in his tinkering. He had worked all of that into his costume, with parts of his body obscured in darkness while others were illuminated by hovering holograms. His wrist pad wasn’t even a pad. He’d just covered it in darkness and projected a tactile hologram in the quarter inch of moving shadow.
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None of that had done anything to stop Jumpspark from disappearing.
That and the action packed night of the day before, which had somehow forgotten to include an invitation for him, had given Sunshrieker an excuse to keep the Sentries in the Sentinel tower for the day. They still needed to be there to respond to anything that came up, but patrolling was out of the question. It left Lowlight feeling useless, to put it in its most simple terms.
How was he supposed to admit something like that to someone who he’d crushed- was still crushing on despite himself? It was embarrassing, and even though the Sentinel genius Slip had come into Lowlight’s workshop to ask more questions about the related events, then passed along some reassurance before leaving, the young Sentry still didn’t believe that it wasn’t his fault. He’d let Jumpspark go on ahead after all, confident that the older Sentry would be able to handle whatever came up.
Putting something like that into words was hard. It was all important, where was the best place to start? Why would he even say any of it when doing that would make him want the earth to open up and swallow him whole?
So Lowlight threw up the wall of darkness so he could hide and focus on something that might one day be productive.
“Say, have you got your eye on anybody?” Tip Top asked suddenly, making the genius drop what he was doing and thump the table. “Any prospective Lowlight-ettes?” She was wearing a very interested smile, proud of the idle conversation she’d just thought up.
No, Lowlight decided. He couldn’t tell Tip Top anything.
~~~
“i thought you said you were going to test your power”
“Shh!” Lucy hushed reflexively. She hadn’t been loud, but a nearby woman gave her a strange look nonetheless. The girl gulped and continued talking, keeping her voice down to a murmur. “I am going to do that, eventually. But first I want something for protection.”
“you didn’t seem to need armour last time” Jumpspark responded, causing something in Lucy to give with relief. She hadn’t been expecting him to hear that. It seemed he was somehow more perceptive as a crossbow than he had been as a human.
It was a morbid thought, and Lucy shook it free quickly.
“Well, I don’t think any of that can be considered my normal.” She pointed out. “How much stuff did you go through that ended up not being relevant to your power?”
“fair”
“I don’t even know if I heal. Your… touches left marks.” Jumpspark didn’t have anything to say to that. “But I’m here for a different kind of protection. The kind that protects my family.” Poignantly, Lucy arrived at the display of masks that Gracia had showed her six days ago. If she was going to be testing her power and something actually ended up happening, she didn’t want any onlookers to see her face.
The teenage girl lingered in front of a mask that was a copy of the flattened one in her bin back home. Her attention was attracted by another that had mandibles reminiscent of a jawbone with razor sharp teeth. It was a touch too savage for her, so she moved on to another that was just an alien face. It was tacky and cheap, and only attracted her eye because of how funny it was to imagine it on the face of a hero.
Look to your right.
None of the masks were really speaking to her, so Lucy walked further along the aisle to where the cheap masks gave way to more expensive headwear. Some were outright helmets, while others some had a hood of cloth to keep them in place rather than a simple strap. Many of them were based off of heroes that had worn the actual helmets at some point, there was a sign claiming so, but Lucy only recognised the one that Hope wore before she died.
Only a few of them actually covered the entire face. Most, like Hope’s, left the mouth exposed while covering everything from the nose up. Lucy picked out the old heroine’s helmet and tried it on. It fit, but was a little too large for her. It also felt wrong. Lucy wasn’t a paragon, and she wanted revenge against Tyr. What she would need to do for that would leave her far from being a saint. The helmet went back on the hook and Lucy moved on.
Second from the top, and three to the left. Don that disguise, oh avatar mine, for it is close to our likeness.
The helmet that next caught Lucy’s eye was mostly grey. It covered the mouth and had a cluster of holes there for breathing. Like most of the other products available, it had lenses in the sharp and slanted oval eyes. Unlike those products, this one seemed to be made from material more sturdy than cheap plastic. There were ridges along the side of the scalp that ran back and down the helmet, and in the centre of the forehead was a small depression, like something was meant to be held there.
It was something Lucy would decide on after discovering more about her power. She had a whole basement of crafting supplies to work with, and her mom wouldn’t miss a little paint.
“that’s more protective than what most people use for their first mask” Jumpspark commented after Lucy had bought the thing and stowed it in her increasingly full bag.
“It’s not my first mask.” Lucy responded.
“why not buy a proper helmet then”
“It could be traced, for one. For two… no, just the first one.” She sighed. “Dad would ask what I spent the money on.”
“he could ask about this”
“No.” Lucy said decisively. “I have an allowance. He thinks the money’s going towards food.” Taken by a sudden melancholy, Lucy stopped and looked up at the fading sky. I have no idea how to tell him. I don’t know if I even want to. But that was just wasting time. Lucy hurried along to her destination.
Said destination was an old petrol station that had been boarded up, had those boards ripped down, and then been boarded up again. Only the second time around it had been the council that did the boarding, and a condemned sign was stuck to the door. The date printed on it had passed nearly two months ago.
Lucy wasn’t the only person interested in the spot, she found out as she walked up. Four boys about college age were loitering on the concrete, lounging about on the raised parts where the petrol dispensers used to be. A few discarded beer cans were scattered about, and there was a crate still seemingly in use.
They called out to her as she walked past. Normally she would’ve responded in at least some capacity, but they weren’t the reason why she was here, and so they were ignored
“those guys are wearing blue” Jumpspark hissed in Lucy’s ear. “be really fucking careful”
“I can handle myself.” Lucy muttered as she pulled the crowbar out of her bag. She glanced back at the boys, who were mostly watching her with various expressions. If they were anything like Wally from last week, they were drinking in preparation for a night in town. It was technically in walking distance from here, after all. “And if they decide to do something stupid, I won’t feel guilty if the colour of their shirts is loyal.”
“i only said something because i don’t want you to die or worse” The crossbow retorted with its hissing whisper. “and if your power includes strength” He trailed off for a second. “go easy on them”
“No.” Lucy snarled as she pulled the first board off of the door, her crowbar making the action easy. It was hard to tell if it had been too easy. The board was tossed to the side and Lucy moved on to the next one. Then the door was unbarred, and eventually forced open when it turned out to be locked on top of originally being barred. “And what do you mean, worse?”
There was a pause of consideration before Jumpspark explained. “not all fighters in the rings are willing” “i've talked to some of the survivors” “it will be worse for you if they find out you have powers” “i don't want to think about them finding me either”
The entire front of the petrol station had been boarded up in one way or another. Any glass that had opened the inside to the outside had been smashed, and the wide windows had been replaced by plywood. Even the door was plywood, and stood in a wooden frame that wouldn't be there for any normal petrol station. Why such lengths were taken became obvious when Lucy walked inside.
A very familiar staircase led down into the earth. If it wasn't for the graffiti covering the entire inside of the building, it would have been identical to the one Gracia had taken her down.
“at least don't kill them” Jumpspark hissed his final request as Lucy descended down into the old fighting arena.
“You're assuming I'm going to go on a sudden rampage.” Lucy realised. “Well, I'm not.”
The silence that followed said more than words could have.
Under the ground was more than Lucy had been expecting. It looked as though a few homeless people had once claimed spots in corners to sleep, beer bottles long abandoned were still lying in the corners they were kicked to, and some walls had actual murals on them. They depicted superheros or villains that Lucy didn't recognise, and most had even more tagging around the edges. There was more than one phone number advertising a good time.
What surprised Lucy was actually the air. It wasn't musky or cold, but easily breathable and actually warmer than the night air she had just left behind. At the same time there wasn't any hum from air conditioning in use, and nothing to indicate where the fresh air was coming from, so Lucy ignored it and kept walking.
The entire underground structure seemed to have been built from the same blueprint as the one where she had met Pistolwhip. She turned a few corners, all right hands turns, until she eventually came upon the door that would've been where Gracia had placed her bet. This time Lucy went through the door frame, as the door that would’ve been standing there was long gone.
She entered a viewing room, complete with a table along one side and two fixed stools still standing underneath. The window was a thick glass sheet that started just below the table’s height, and through it Lucy could see a nostalgic cage, though this one was broken open from a fight long ago. In the room with Lucy as well as the actual arena before her was still more tagging.
One caught Lucy’s eye. It was done in a black that was harder to make out than some because of the already dark colour of the walls, but she could still read it. It said ‘a black cat has crossed your path’. The guy from the internet had probably come here after the actual fighting in the place had been shut down to make that message. Lucy wondered how many similar messages there were scattered throughout the city.
After a moment’s consideration, Lucy opened her bag again and took out the helmet and the crossbow. She pulled on the mask and threw her bag to a shadowed corner that would be easily overlooked. Then, with a crossbow in one hand and a crowbar in the other, Lucy walked around to the actual arena and made a beeline for the cage.
It was different, standing in it. For one, the taggers hadn’t left this spot alone either. Lucy scuffed her shoe against the fifth number she’d seen claiming a good time, both amused and faintly disgusted. Mostly, however, it was because looking at all the empty seats settled a strange weight on her shoulders, not one that the girl had ever felt before.
Something like stagefright, maybe? Lucy stood for a moment, considering. “Okay. Let’s get started.”