xx49.07.29 | 17:44 | Still Tuesday
I just finished reading over the LUS entry, something weird happened with the start but aside from that it's okay. My brain can get kind of goofy with stuff, or maybe that's just the thing's 'interpretation'. It WAS designed by Daniel. He can get a bit weird. Anyway, I'm here at Motoplasm and The Force's base, we're waiting for The Force to get back with pizzas. Motoplasm's really tired, I think using his power and giving his blood to the wounded boy took a lot out of him (literally!) so now he's just in the lounge sitting and resting. Shade's out there with him, they started arguing on the way back but Motoplasm shut him up. Shade's kind of annoying. C2's really quiet, she hasn't said anything much at all, I think maybe she got scared with all the shooting and gangers and stuff. I should talk to her—I will talk to her, after I finish writing this entry.
So. Motoplasm and The Force's base is just like a garage or repair shop or something, kind of dirty on the outside but clean on the inside. It's pretty big, but there's no sign or anything. Motoplasm said it's better not to draw attention to yourself.
"If people need help, they'll figure out where to come. One way or another, they'll find us."
I guess word gets around, especially when there are SUPERHEROES in your neighbourhood. Apart from the repair shop at the front there's also a little clinic out the back, and then kind of an apartment thing as well, it's small but nice, dark and moodily lit but not unfriendly or anything. There's a comfortable feeling here. C2 and I are sharing a room, it's too late to be doing any major investigating and I figure I should talk to Motoplasm and The Force before I do anything, see what's going on here apart from these gang troubles. Once The Force gets back and we've all eaten something and things are more relaxed I'll start asking questions. I mean, I found out a little already ... I guess I'll write down what happened once we got here, to get everything straight, I always think better when I'm writing. And anyway, I'm just waiting and resting now.
Like I said, Motoplasm sat down and told us we could rest in this room (where C2 and I are now, she's doing something with her Opal, I don't think she's writing an entry though) and then Shade started complaining. Motoplasm shut him up fast, though.
"Child, I'm not in the mood for your kind of nonsense. Sit down and shut up and wait for Malcolm to get back here with those pizzas."
I could tell Shade wanted to say something, but he didn't. I guess even annoying people have to respect someone like Motoplasm—and seriously, I mean I know I've watched all of the videos with him like a hundred times each but actually being LIVE with him is AMAZING. He's got a 'presence'! I always knew he would, I mean I always thought he would—no, I KNEW, I just knew it, it's not like with Dad and Mum, that's different, when it's your parents it's kind of hard to be awed by them, but Motoplasm ... MOTOPLASM. And The Force too, he's just as amazing—I should stop going on about them, I'm really trying not to squee out too much but it's just so difficult! And seeing how they handled those gangers and saved that boy—I have to admit, I couldn't resist gushing a bit about how incredible it was.
"Now don't go thinking you can go on and do what I did," Motoplasm said to me. "Shouldn't even take a bullet out, not unless you know for sure you're not doing more damage than you're preventing. Just because you've got my power don't mean you can mess around like that. Too many years as a paramedic lets me do what I do."
"I know, I'm kind of scared to use it," I said. "I wouldn't even try to do what you did, except maybe in a life or death emergency. Um. And I just wanted to say that I'm sorry."
"Sorry? For following us? Hell, I knew you were gonna do that—"
"No, about my parents. You've been here, all this time, working to help people, but Mum and Dad just hid—"
"And you're guilting about that? Wasn't your decision. Your parents had you and your brother to worry about. Malcolm and me? We've just got ourselves." He chuckled wearily. "Ourselves and ungrateful children like this one."
Shade was watching TV, some kind of singing program, but he turned and made a face at that.
"And don't you start thinking your parents just up and abandoned the world, that ain't how it went. They've helped me and Malcolm more times than my weary brain cares to remember."
"Even since The Event?" I asked.
"Even since The Event. They've been helping the others too, Gaia and ShyFire and Lightning White—hell, he'd never have found his daughter without your daddy's help."
I have to admit it, I actually gasped.
"Lightning White has a DAUGHTER?" I gasped again (I've been gasping way too much lately). "No! Not with Rage! So the rumours—"
"Seems I might've said too much there. Child, your parents did what was right for them, just like me and Mal did what was right for us. And anyway, their decisions ain't your decisions. You ain't them and they ain't you."
After that we were all quiet for a while. C2 and Shade watched the singing program. Motoplasm just sat there. I wanted to ask him more, but he looked so tired—at least, until he suddenly sat up.
"Let's have a look at those bags," he said. "We know what's in one of them, don't we?"
"Hey man, I already told you—"
"Dirty money."
Motoplasm meant that literally, even though the new NoZo money's supposed to be indestructible a lot of the notes were torn, some of them were even taped together, and all of them looked like they could use a wash. They were in bundles wrapped up with big wide rubber bands, and there were quite a few of them.
"Less than there should be," Motoplasm said, with a pointed look at Shade. Apparently Shade used his power to sneak up and steal some of the money before the meeting happened. That's what caused the whole thing, when the purples (I still don't know what either of the gangs are actually called) went to pay for what the reds were selling, they didn't have enough. That's why the boy got shot. Shade doesn't seem sorry about that at all, though. To be honest I don't know why Motoplasm's keeping him around, I'd just, I don't know, I wouldn't want him in my house anyway.
I shouldn't have been shocked about what was in the other bag, and at first I wasn't, but only because I didn't realise what the little plastic tubes were. And actually it was Motoplasm's reaction that shocked me more than anything:
"Now what in the world do we have here?" he said, sounding pleased. "Do my weary eyes deceive me or is this bag filled with Hak? Well, well, well, looks like luck may be on our side this evening."
"What?" I said. "Hak's a drug! It's a BAD drug!"
"You're damn right it is," Motoplasm said. "All the better for me to have it, damn sight better than letting it loose on the streets. Now, now, don't you worry your fiery little head about it, I ain't a user. Happens I am something of an amateur chemist, though, and if you treat this stuff right it can bless just as powerfully as it can damn. You know how Hak works?"
C2 does, I could tell by the way she perked up, but she didn't say anything.
"Jazzes up your nervous system," Motoplasm was continuing. "Gives you a jolt, makes you feel powerful, makes you feel invincible, makes you feel nothing BUT invincible. I seen kids on this garbage take punishment you wouldn't believe, doesn't so much as slow 'em down. Not until it wears off. Then they drop down dead."
"So—"
"But," Motoplasm said, interrupting me so neatly I couldn't even feel offended, "with a little tenderness you can adjust the dose, take it down to more sensible quantities. Works real good to stop the wheezes, and you best believe that's a problem in these parts. Lot of folks 'round here got lung troubles, need a boost to get themselves breathing right."
"Oh," I said. I should have trusted that he's a hero, of course, I shouldn't have thought even for a second that he'd do anything bad with ANYTHING, but I guess I just didn't think before I reacted. Is it even possible to 'think' before you 'react'? Not in my experience, but anyway.
"So I take a couple of stacks and it's the crime of the century, but you—"
"Child," Motoplasm said, cutting Shade off, "if you don't shut your mouth I'm gonna be taking my hand off your face."
"You're going to keep the money?" C2 asked, very quietly. "As well as the drugs?"
"I was, um, I was wondering about that too," I said. "It doesn't seem very Hero to just ... keep it."
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"What else am I gonna do, scatter it in the streets? 'Adventuring' ain't exactly a profitable venture, and most folks around here don't pay nothing more than gratitude, if even that."
"Yeah, so, again, you going on—"
"So call me a hypocrite if that's what you gotta do," Motoplasm said to Shade. "Go on and call me anything you like. Hell, boy, you know well as I do this here world we're sharing ain't perfect. Just gotta do what we gotta do, best as we can do it."
Shade shook his head and went back to watching TV, but I kind of felt like he wasn't completely annoyed at Motoplasm. I think Shade might be someone who just likes saying things, to get a reaction or whatever.
"Besides, you think pizza grows on trees? Hell, even if it did, you SEE any trees 'round here? Mal and me, we'll put that money to good use. Better use than those toy gangsters we took it off, that's for damn sure."
I took this as a chance to ask about things, so I went for it:
"Motoplasm—"
"Ain't used that for years, Leroy'll do fine."
"Uh."
That kind of stopped me dead. Of course I know his name—Leroy Johnston—but to me he's Motoplasm. I mean ... he just IS. And The Force isn't Malcolm Donovan, he's THE FORCE. Malcolm Donovan, Leroy Johnston, they're so ... so ordinary, those names could belong to anyone. But there's only one Motoplasm and there's only one The Force. Speaking as someone who has a total block on choosing a superhero name for herself, it's almost offensive when someone with as cool a name as Motoplasm wants to be called plain old boring old Leroy. It also seems kind of disrespectful, I mean he is (no offence) totally old, I can't just call him by his first name.
Anyway, he solved the problem for me by noticing my long, confused silence and sighing and saying:
"But if it makes you happy, sure, call me Motoplasm, go nuts."
"Okay, THANK you, Motoplasm, hehe, um, so I was wondering—I mean, YOU must be wondering why I'm here and everything—"
"You mentioned Segregation earlier," Motoplasm said. "I'm guessing you're following some kind of lead. These new 'subtle supervillains', ugh, just saying the words gives me a shudder. By the way, don't think I ain't calling your parents. Tried earlier, couldn't get through, but you best believe I'm ratting you out soon as I'm able."
I had to bite my lip at that. I don't even know where Mum and Dad are—maybe in the Dead Mountains or one of the non-zones in Dzodestra, either that or they're using blockers for privacy. With any luck Motoplasm won't be able to contact them before I've at least got SOME kind of lead here, SOMETHING to try to hook them with, Dad especially, if I can just get one tiny little scrap of solid evidence that the supervillains are planning something here then I know I can get him on my side, and he'll be able to talk Mum around—anyway, I don't blame Motoplasm for trying to contact my parents. It's definitely the right thing to do. Plus it gives me more motivation to ask the hard questions, like:
"Actually I don't really have any 'leads', just 'suspicions' at this point, mostly thanks to C2—"
By the way, I know that's not ACTUALLY a question, but it's leading to one so ... I don't know, just bear with me a moment.
"—because she noticed a kind of pattern, or a lack of a pattern—"
I can probably skip most of this explanation stuff, I'll just get to the actual question:
"—so I was kind of hoping that, um, that YOU might have some kind of lead. So, um, do you? Have one?"
Motoplasm was just sitting there looking at me. It's hard to read his expression sometimes, but I think he might have been laughing at me without actually laughing. Or smiling. Or anything.
"Do I have a lead," he said. "On possible secret supervillain operations within my city."
"Um. Yes. Do you?"
It took Motoplasm a while to answer. I'm not sure why, maybe he was thinking about things? Then he said one word:
"Changes."
Which I repeated:
"Changes?"
And then he said it again:
"Changes."
And then I said:
"Huh?"
And then, finally, Motoplasm smiled.
"Your girl's right about one thing," he said, "it ain't been the same since burn night—those explosions, they were like a portent for bad. Might look quieter on the surface, but there's a whole heap of trouble bubbling up beneath. You see those kids today? Best outcome we've had in a long while. Usually goes messier than that. We got lucky, we got some that'd listen. Most aren't like that. Best we can do is stop them from hurting each other—or themselves—too badly. Seen 'em getting younger and younger too, breaks my heart to see some little kid waving around a weapon like they know what it is."
"So ... so you think this has something to do with the supervillains?"
"I don't know, child. Big crime's down, but little crime, the crime that matters, that's as bad as it ever was. You wanna know what's changed, these last years? Used to be these gangers were waving around old ranked out zip guns, half the time the bullets they used were bad, most of the hits they got were accidental. Drugs used to be cut-down Spark mostly, some Rose, a little Hak, not like this stuff, not pure like this stuff. Now, hell, you seen 'em, gleaming chrome pieces straight out of the factory and drugs as pure as the driven snow."
"So you think the supervillains might be supplying them?" I asked.
"Well they sure as hell ain't plucking this stuff off some magical guns-and-drugs bush. It don't gotta be about supervillains necessarily, but someone's behind all this. Me and Mal, we try to get to their suppliers but they're smart about it, run themselves through blind after blind after blind, gets to be that you're running around in a circle just to punch yourself in the head. We're doing our part to treat the symptoms, but the disease? That's a slippery thing. Hard to get a grip on."
I'm not sure what to think about that. It could be supervillains, but like Motoplasm explained it could also just be regular villains, making money by selling drugs and guns. C2 suggested that I 'turn it around', instead of trying to figure out who might be doing it I should think about what they're trying to achieve. But even that doesn't make sense to me, of course supervillains love chaos, and giving guns and drugs to gangers like we saw today is OF COURSE going to cause chaos, but could there be another reason? Something else behind it all? It's all so confusing, I can't think straight about any of it, I'll have to talk to C2 more. She's busy now, still fiddling with her Opal, she looks really focused. She asked a good question, too, while I was talking with Motoplasm about this whole thing:
"Mr Johnston," she said, so politely. "Have you heard anything unusual about the georod plant in this city, or the powerstone in Galaxy Tower?"
I'd actually kind of forgotten about them—not FORGOTTEN forgotten, but I was too focused on this guns-and-drugs-and-gangs stuff to think to ask about them. Unfortunately, even though it was definitely a good question and I'm proud of C2 for thinking to ask it, Motoplasm didn't have any idea.
"Sorry, child. These days I got my hands full just dealing with my neighbourhood. Georod plant's out east in the industrial sector and Galaxy Tower, hell, ain't even been that way in years. Too rich for my blood."
After that things kind of went nowhere. Motoplasm said we could wash up and rest before The Force gets back—he's taking a while, I really hope nothing happened to him, I mean I KNOW he's The Force, he's basically invulnerable, his aura is a natural force field so about the only thing that can really hurt him is, like, light, and even if the gangers around here have good quality guns I really doubt they've got lasers or whatever. Still, he's been ages...
Anyway, so here we are, C2 and me, in our little guest room. There's only one bed, but that's okay. I mean, it's okay with me. I don't know what C2 thinks about it.
...
Shade's arguing with Motoplasm again, I can hear them through the wall.
...
What IS C2 doing? She's not writing—
[Auto-Transcribe: ON]
"C2, what are you doing?"
"I'm familiarising myself with the Opal's operating system. It's non-intuitive in parts, and I'd like to become more comfortable with it. Have you communicated with Daniel?"
"I sent him a message like ten minutes after we arrived, but I haven't gotten anything back."
"I've sent him several messages. Although they seem to have gone through without trouble, I haven't received a reply yet. Does that seem odd to you?"
Okay, yeah, I hadn't really thought about it but that IS weird. Daniel should be able to talk to us, we've got greater net access here, there's nothing wrong with our Opals—I just sent him another quick message, just a 'REPLY TO THIS' thing. No answer yet. Could something have happened to him? But he's on the moon! And we were just there, there definitely wasn't anything weird happening ... I really hope the teleporter didn't explode or something after we left. Oh great now I'm thinking really awful morbid thoughts, new subject, new subject!
"Charlotte."
Thank goodness, C2's talking to—
"I don't mean to be rude, but could you please stop typing? I'm sorry if that sounded bad, but I want to talk to you about something. This probably isn't the right time to do so, but I'm experiencing some stress because of it, and it's my hope that by talking to you I may feel better."
"Of course!" I said. "Go ahead, talk to me about anything!"
...
"I have a problem," C2 said. "My problem is that I feel that I'm more of a burden to you than an asset."
"What? No! What? You're not a burden—are you joking? No, obviously you're not, sorry. But you aren't a burden, why would you think that?"
"My power isn't generally useful, and due to the way your 'power mimicry' works my being near you means that other, more useful powers are potentially weakened. Additionally, I have fears for my safety. I should have told my parents I was coming here with you. If something happens to me they would be greatly upset. In summation ... in summation ... despite my efforts, I don't think I'm a good sidekick. Intrinsically, I am flawed."
"C2 ... no, please don't say that, you're not flawed—and I don't even think of you as my sidekick, but if I did you'd be the best sidekick I could ask for. You're my best friend and my partner, I know I'm more, um, impulsive than you, so maybe it seems like I'm, you know, taking the lead or whatever—but I really, really need you. You think about things! You're clever! If it wasn't for you we wouldn't even be here—"
"For this also I feel responsible and guilty. Your life has been put in danger, because of my suggestion. You said that you are more impulsive than me, and I agree with this. But I was overly impulsive in suggesting that we come here. I didn't think things through. I became excited at the thought of helping you, but now that I'm here, I feel that I am more burden than asset and of no help to you at all."
"No, you're a great help! Always! C2, forget all this 'burden' and 'asset' stuff, you're my friend, you're my BEST friend, I don't think of you as a burden—or even an asset! I just love having you around, being with you, you do so much for me that you don't even know about. I mean ... yes, maybe your power isn't the most spectacular in the world, but you're not JUST your power, C2. And anyway, not having to worry about being mind-controlled or whatever is GREAT, psychic manipulation has got to be the biggest weakness of most superheroes, it's so hard to protect against, but I don't have to worry when you're around! My thoughts are always mine when you're here—you know how I was in Emerald Hill when I was being mood-controlled, that whole thing was terrible. If I'd had you around from the start I bet I would've done much better, I would've been more focused and would've figured things out more quickly—WE would've figured things out. We're a team, C2! And we're going to get to the bottom of whatever—"
[Entry Timed Out]