It turned out that they graduated on Friday. That gave them all two full days to enjoy a little bit of a break. Though Will wasn’t exactly sure if he wanted to stick with the Arc Police Unit, he knew that leaving now wasn’t an option. Mav had confirmed he would stick around for a while, so Will wanted to learn as much as he could. None of the others wanted to leave either, so for the time being, he planned to stay at the school as long as possible.
After Carl finished talking with Maven, the uncle and nephew left the school together. Carl informed Will of what had been going on with the police. He let go of information about some of the Arcs they had to deal with and spent time together. Will wanted to ask about his uncle’s history with Mav, but by that point, his uncle was called away for work, and Will went back to the school.
Katy and Ryu had gone out to see their folks, but the others were working out or sparring, so Will joined them. During that time, they planned to hit the town for real this time. That was how Will found himself at a tattoo parlor in the early hours of Saturday.
"Obviously, we need tattoos,” Irish said as they walked down the sidewalk.
“How is it obvious we need tattoos?” Santos asked. Samson and Irish were walking side by side, excited about the first step in their day off.
“It’s a symbol,” Irish said as if it were obvious.
“Most tattoos are,” Samson commented.
“True, but come on. We have been working our asses off. It’s time to do something spontaneous. We can no longer follow Mav around like lost puppies. We need to do something for ourselves.”
“Then why are you making us come along?” Will asked.
“I said we have to do it,” Irish said. “Quit whinin and think about what you want.” Will rolled his eyes, but because the others were getting tattoos, he probably would too. Though Katy and Ryu were still with family, Irish did leave them a note in case they wanted to join. Despite his doubts, Will was content to be part of the endeavor for the time being.
Irish presented the door to the tattoo parlor as if he had conjured it out of nowhere. The shop was a nondescript hole in the wall. Will was starting to question the whole thing until Zach Willard opened the door.
“Hey, you came,” he said. The fellow student who had recently graduated from Will's high school was not what he had expected.
“After you went to see your uncle, we ran into him again at the mall,” Samson explained as Zach walked them in. The interior of the tattoo parlor was a familiar sight. Examples of previous tattoos adorned the walls. Will noticed a wide range, from dragons to bunnies to simple stars and stripes.
“Any idea what you want?” Zach asked. "I've booked you for the next few hours, so we can start whenever you're ready."
“I’ll be going first,” Irish said. “I want-”
“A leprechaun,” Samson guessed.
“A bomb,” Santos offered.
“A pot of gold,” Will added.
“And a rainbow,” Samson added.
“No, a 4-leaf clover,” Irish said.
“Even better,” Samson said. “Get some red balloons next, and you’ll be all set.”
“Nah,” Irish said. “I’ve been pretty lucky in life. So a four-leaf will suffice.”
“Fair enough,” Zach said, and he began sketching it out. Samson went next; he wanted two swords crossed over a shield. Santos decided on the outline of a Christian cross. Will thought about it for a while and eventually set on the outline of a sun. The group offered their own ideas, like a lighthouse or flashlight, but Will stuck with the sun.
Irish started getting his tattoo first. As he sat on his left shoulder, the others joked around. Zach didn't have time to color it, so it was just an outline, but Irish was pretty happy with it by the time he finished. Samson went, followed by Santos. By the time Will was getting his, Katy and Ryu had shown up.
Ryu agreed right away, but Katy took an hour to convince. Ryu ended up getting a crescent moon tattooed on his shoulder, and Katy got a set of old-timey windmill blades. Like something Don Quixote would attack. Will believed that most of them served as excellent representations of their respective archetypes. Sun for light, sword for strength, cross for healing, windmill for wind, moon for transformation, and...
“A mutated plant for the freak,” Samson said.
“Aye, thanks,” Irish said. “You can hardly see yours. Maybe you shouldn’t have used black ink.” Santos had healed them of the damage caused by the tattoo needle. They didn't have to wear a bandage over the tattoos, and each was marveling at them. As they paid and left, Will found himself running his finger over the raised skin of the sun outline.
“What now?” Katy asked as they walked out together.
“No idea,” Irish said. “This was my only idea.”
“Not surprising,” Samson said. “You were never the thinker of the group.”
“And you are? Tell us then. What next?” Irish asked, challenging the big man.
Samson held his chin as he thought. His hand holding his chin he offered, “The gym?” The others responded with a chorus of groans and laughter.
“Of course a muscle-bound lummox like you would say that,” Katy said.
“We need to do something like skydiving…or jaywalking; I don’t care,” Irish said.
“I feel like there is somewhere in between that we can agree on,” Ryu said.
“Says the man who can fly,” Irish said. “Come on. We've spent months confined to that school. I’m sick of blowing stuff up at salvage yards and killing Bloodhounds. I want to relax or blow up a building.”
“Again, middle ground,” Ryu said.
“Fine,” Katy said. “If none of you have ideas, then I do.”
“What are you thinking, oh mighty warrior girl?” Irish asked.
“A spa day,” she said with a smile.
—
That was how Will found himself sitting in a nail salon at noon on a Saturday. In a very cushioned chair, he sat next to all the others as they had their feet massaged, cuticles cut, or nails polished.
“I’m thinkin green for me nails,” Irish said. For some reason, his accent was thicker around new people. Will suspected it was because women often adored him for it.
“I knew you were a girl,” Samson said, then winced as the Korean woman dug into his heel. “How are you so strong?” He hissed.
“What? Might as well go all in,” Irish said.
“Quiet,” Katy mumbled as she relaxed in the massage chair. “You are supposed to relax and enjoy this.”
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“Easy for you to say,” Ryu said. “This is the weirdest thing I’ve ever agreed to.”
“So far,” Santos pointed out. “Just turn your feet into dog feet or something.”
"Oh, dang, can you do that?” Samson asked, perking up. “Like move the transformation around? So you could have raptor claws and monkey feet or something.”
“First, I never ate a raptor,” Ryu said.
“Likely excuse,” Irish grumbled.
“Second…I don’t think my power works that way.”
“Would be pretty cool if you did. Like a chimera,” Santos said. “Head of a lion, tail of a snake, or whatever.”
“Yeah, no, I’m good,” Ryu said. “What about you, Mr. Saint? I’m surprised you aren’t healing the lame and helping the blind to see. Did you really cure a lot of people at the hospitals.”
“A few,” Santos mumbled. “I need to cut my hair.” He played with the dark brown hair that was below his ears. “I healed a few too many abuelas, and they started calling me Jesus.” He pronounced the name as Hey-zues.
“Ha!” Samson barked. “That would have been a better name. Santos Jesus.”
“It’s not a terrible idea,” Katy said. “I could use a trim too.” She played with her long blonde hair. Will agreed; he too needed a cut. It had been getting in his eyes lately.
“How has my adventurous day off turned into America’s next top makeover?”
“Got any better ideas?” Katy asked. Irish didn’t have one. Once they were done with the manicures and pedicures, none of the guys got their nails painted, at least, but they did move to a salon. The majority of the establishments they frequented were quite crowded, yet as soon as they began exhibiting their typical boisterous and obnoxious behavior, they found themselves at the front of the line.
For most of them, a wardrobe change followed the hair cut. They stopped by a Convenant Bank and found that not only did their Citizen IDs work, but they had $10,000 each on them. None of them had anticipated receiving such a substantial amount. Katy deterred them all from going out and buying cars or motorcycles, and made them get a nice set of clothes.
This, of course, was a mistake on Katy’s part. She should've known not to take them to a mall. She missed their last foray, which had been mild in comparison. But once they were all together, the group turned into a testosterone-fueled group of misfits.
At first, it was a simple dare. Irish dared Ryu to run from one end of the mall to the other as a tiger. Ryu, of course, denied this and countered with a dog. Irish offered up a bear, and they eventually settled on a deer. The next thing Will knew, a buck was running through the mall. People screamed and got out of the way, and the deer ran from one end of the mall to the other. Irish, and to be honest, the whole group, was a laughing mess as he ran back toward them with a line of security guards chasing him.
The deer disappeared in a clothing store, and after the excitement calmed slightly, they snuck him his clothes from his hiding place inside a clothing rack. This set off more dares. Will expected Katy or Santos to stop it, but they actively participated. This led to an exploding trashcan, a security guards hat stolen and set on the top of the elevator, a vending machine turned fully upside down, and last but not least, a person stuck in a wheelchair being knocked out of it, secretly healed, and then Irish made a big scene about the guy faking the broken limbs the whole time as he walked around.
This wrapped up their shenanigans. Their strategy was to ensure that no one could catch them in the act of doing anything. They were successful in their efforts, yet when guards consistently positioned themselves close to them, they realized they were under scrutiny. Thus, they retreated to the food court as any self-respecting group would. Samson and Irish piled food on their trays, and the others ate sparingly as they chatted around a few tables pushed together.
“What do you guys want to do with your lives?” Santos inquired as he took a bite.
There was a long pause as people forced down what they were eating. “I’ve been thinking about that too lately,” Katy said as she leaned back in her chair. All eyes were on her. “I have no damn idea.”
“Same,” a few said.
“I like doing this,” Irish said.
“Eating?” Samson asked.
“Yep,” Irish said. “And this. Training. I never really bothered with it before. I was always kind of naturally strong. I knew when to throw a punch and what to do to piss people off. Now, I feel like I have my own fighting style. I can throw someone down as easily as I used to be able to explode somethin.”
“I get that,” Samson said. “I really thought I was strong before.” His fist clenched. “But Mav…he’s a monster.”
“Aye” "Amen,” Irish and Santos said.
“He mentioned something intriguing to me,” Will said. He didn’t falter, as all their eyes were focused on him. When they first started, he struggled to talk without stuttering as they stared at him. Now he felt comfortable with the group. “He talked about us teaching other Arcs. Starting up our own group. If the Goons moved in and they become an issue anyway.”
“How’s that work?” Samson asked, leaning in.
Will shrugged. “I don’t know. He said we should do our own thing. There are a lot of Arcs out there that don’t want to join the Goons. We could give them a home. He called it a guild.”
“Ha!” Irish laughed. “Aye, now that sounds fun. Make our own group to stick it to em.”
“You’re not even American; what do you care about the Goons?” Samson asked.
“Ah, but you forget, I’m Irish. We are always fighting against those in power,” he said.
"Fighting, but not winning,” Samson said. “For hundreds of years, you couldn’t wrestle your tiny island from the Brits.”
“What makes you say that?” Irish said. “Since when were you so versed on my country?”
“He’s guessing,” Santos said.
“Hey, I read some stuff. I mean, I saw Braveheart.”
“That was the Scottish,” Irish said.
“You both have red hair; how am I supposed to tell the difference?” Samson asked.
“You got me there,” Irish said. “I was talking to a black person the other day that I thought was you. Turns out it was a woman. I only noticed because her rack was much smaller en yours.”
“Ha!” Katy barked, fighting the urge to spit up some of her drink.
“We trailed off again,” Ryu said, causing Samson to hold off a retort. It was rare that any conversation didn’t have five deviations from the original line of talk. “So a guild, huh?”
“Maybe,” Will said with a shrug. “It’s better than joining the Goons, that’s for sure.”
“I like it,” Santos said. “We could sell our services.”
“So miracle healer here,” Samson said, pointing to Santos. “You could start your own cult.”
“Strong man,” Santos said, pointing at Samson.
“Demolition,” Irish said.
“Delivery service,” Will said, raising his hand.
“Lion and lion tamer,” Irish said, pointing at Ryu and Katy.
“You just described a circus,” Samson said between bites.
“Circus or a guild, they are the same thing, trust me,” Irish said. “But for now, we are stuck policing this city. Unless you have any ideas on how to start our own little group.”
“What is our group?” Katy asked. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to wear a badge.”
“So ye don’t like helping the wee little normies?” Irish asked.
“I don’t mind doing that,” Katy said with a frown. She looked around at the others, hesitating, but continued. “I don’t know if Mav did the same for you lot…but he uh showed me a moment in my past.” Will recalled his own test. The memory of his first encounter with the Goons was still fresh in his mind. The others appeared to have been through the same thing. As she continued, they became a little finicky. “He showed me what could have been if I’d had the strength I have now. I, uh, I think I’d like to help people with my power.”
Irish frowned, sobering up a little as he became serious. “Aye, I think we all could have used a little more experience years ago.”
“But should we help people?” Samson asked. “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather help myself…” It was hard to deny that truth as well.
Will recalled his conversation with Mav about heroes, and how the stories revolved around the impossible ideals of both men and women heroes. “Super heroes?” Will asked. “It seems a little too unrealistic to me.”
“So what then?” Katy repeated. “What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know,” Will said.
“How about we start simple?” Irish said. “We name our group, first.”
“That seems easier,” Samson said. “The Dark Knights.”
“That’s dumb,” Katy said. “What did Mav call the Dragoons before they were Goons? Final Vanguard? I vote for nothing so melodramatic.”
“The Emerald Dream,” Irish offered.
“The Six?” Santos said.
“Eh, Chicago Six isn’t the best name, trust me,” Ryu said. “How about Vengeance.”
“No melodrama,” Katy said. “Short and simple. Something that describes exactly who we are. No theatrics. No Arc Police Unit. Our group of friends. We need a name that will attract attention."
“Arc Anonymous,” Santos said.
"Ohhh, I like that,” Samson said.
“No, I’m not sounding like a support group,” Katy said.
“I don’t know; what I’m hearing is that we kind of are,” Will said.
“Oh my god. Our long-term plans are shelved, and now I am shelving the future name. We are currently TBD.”
“I like that,” Irish said. “Can we come up with a name that uses those letters?”
“The B-Buddy Diiii-” Samson said. “Nevermind.”
“You were going to say dicks, weren’t you?” Irish asked. “It’s easy to see where your mind goes, ya perv.”
The group laughed and sat quietly as they thought. Eventually, they finished their food, and it was time to find something else to do.
“Zach told me about a little get-together he was invited to,” Irish said as they left the mall.
“A get-together?” Katy asked, knowing full well that it was never as simple as that.
“Yep, just a few friends. There may or may not be alcohol involved. Are you interested?” Irish asked.
“I don’t know…” Katy said.
“I’m in,” Samson said.
“Same,” Santos added. Will and Ryu nodded, and eventually Katy agreed.
“Perfect,” Irish said. “Now let’s go buy us a car and arrive in style.”
“I’m not buying a car.”
“I got it, the Mavericks,” Samson said.
“No!” Katy yelled. “Let’s just go. Around you guys, I don’t know why I don’t have the urge to drink more.” Will laughed and followed behind the group as they made their way to the bus stop. His mind was on the group; he wondered if it would come to fruition. Maybe they would really stick together and form their own group. Maybe someday they could be big enough to rival the Goons.