The Superficial World of the Supernaturally Gifted SEQUEL
As requested, the glorious sequel to the 15 chapter supernatural phenomenon. If you're new to this story, please refer to the Supernatural genre section of Clique Fanfics and read the first.
PART 1: as told by Massie
Let's not dwell on the past or reminisce about the good old days when Claire, Cam, Landon, Dempsey, Derrick and I used to attend the mysterious school for the super gifted run by a bunch of sadistic authorities. Let us also not remember the time when we successfully infiltrated the renowned Foster City—the city that hates supers.
That's all very interesting, of course, interesting enough to make a decent story of it, I reckon. But to be painfully truthful, there wasn't any time to dwell on the past at the moment.
After an epic escapade like our group of brave adventurers just endured, one would say, "hey, guys, do you want to lie down for a moment? You've just been attacked multiple times, contained in a dark prison and two of you were forced to fight to the death by a mind-controller who was actually a closet-super under the pretense of an anti-super!" (Incidentally, both who were sentenced to a fight to the death emerged alive. Pure skill? I think so.)
But no one said such things to us. Not many people knew what we'd just accomplished, what five sixteen year olds had just undertaken and achieved. And no one would care either. The world was still a discriminatory bitch. Most people still despised supers; Foster City itself being the pinnacle and root of all the indignation.
But that wasn't stopping us. No, it would take a lot to stop us—a miracle even.
I suppose it wouldn't surprise you if I told you our group was currently standing on top of the statue of liberty, admiring the priceless view and talking excitedly about the future ahead of us. On top of that, we didn't even have to pay admission to the dumb tourist attraction. One of the many benefits of teleportation is all I'll say for now.
Cam and Claire were as close as gravity would allow. Somehow almost dying several times had brought them closer, as if each second they feared one would be abruptly shot or knifed from behind, or kidnapped. The sad thing was, those were totally rational fears.
"Should we go?" Landon asked. Landon and I, despite our current relationship standing (girlfriend/boyfriend) were not sitting very close at all.
His hands were covered in thin, black leather gloves, something that protected me from his death touch, but he was still very paranoid about getting too close.
"Yeah," I answered, somewhat absently.
I was keeping my eye on Derrick. He certainly would not be permitted to leap off the statue's tip and soar around the city in front of millions of curious eyes. Not in such a city. Though the look in his eyes sure implied he was fantasizing about it.
Claire, Cam, and Derrick silently crowded around me. Physical contact was mandatory in order to make a teleport. Since Dempsey and Landon both had the death touch, I couldn't transport them. Thankfully, Landon, whose ability was power absorption, had absorbed my power before he'd copied Dempsey's horrible death touch ability.
Landon was a horrible, messy teleporter, and often they'd take a quick misadventure to some obscure town in Texas before arriving at their desired destination. It was a thing of progression, though.
I never would quite understand the death touch completely. I'd just recently discovered that if two people both have the death each other, they can make physical contact without hurting each other. If you have it, you've also developed immunity against it.
We waited patiently for Dempsey and Landon at the base of the statue, where tourists and guards hurried around us.
When they finally arrived, their sudden appearance went unnoticed.
I liked New York City already, I decided. No one noticed when you materialized beside them. Everyone was too busy.
Friday night, midnight. The dim lights of the Central park streetlights illuminated the darkened paths just barely enough for us to navigate our way towards the "biggest statue", as Dr. Josh Hotz had instructed us to do in the ambiguous brochure he'd left for us.
He'd invited us to audition for something called, "the violet crusade", an organization of superheroes.
Who really knew why we were ready for more adventure?
There was a crowd forming around what was presumably "the biggest statue", a war memorial.
It was mostly colorfully dressed young people who were scattered about the area, talking nervously and pacing, as if reciting lines before a big theatre premier.
"There are a lot of supers here," Derrick noted timidly.
His observation, for once, was not completely ridiculous. There were at least one hundred people milling about the statue. That was one hundred people like us, all standing together in one place. I felt like we were attending some sort of rebellion, not a audition.
I wanted to hold onto Landon for console, but even though he was wearing gloves, I knew he would shrug my contact off. He was only protecting me, anyway…
We stood at the edge of the crowd, watching and waiting with blank expressions.
Then a figure climbed up on top of the memorial and shouted for everyone's attention. The nervous chatter ceased immediately and all heads turned to face this anonymous figure.
"Hello," he welcomed us warmly, extending his arms in a gesture of greeting. "Welcome to the first ever open auditions for the Violet Crusade. My name is Dr. Josh E. Hotz, vice-president of the Violet Crusade."
I exchanged a puzzled look with the group. This was the man who'd come to us to invite us to the auditions.
"You may be wondering why we are holding such a private meeting in such a public place," he said, scanning his audience with eager eyes. "Well, a friend of mine who can manipulate sound and light has projected a one meter thick force field around this statue and its vicinity. No one can see, or hear us. Nor can they enter this part of the park."
There was a collective murmur of excitement and approval in the crowd.
"Now, I have another friend here, a member of the Violet Crusade. I'd like to introduce her to you."
A pale, small blonde climbed gracefully onto the memorial to stand beside Josh.
She was beautiful, and her expression suggested she knew this.
"This is Olivia. She can sense other super's abilities with perfect accuracy. So not only does she know what you can do, she knows how well you can do it." Josh grinned deviously. "Olivia will know your level of danger and power just by looking at you."
Dempsey swallowed uneasily.
"She will determine if there are any traitors in this crowd. And by traitors, I mean non-supers."
Olivia narrowed her eyes and scrutinized the crowd before her.
"No traitors," she announced, satisfied. Her wary eyes we on Dempsey. He sheepishly slipped behind Massie in an attempt to shield himself from her omniscient eyes.
The crowd stirred, impatient now.
Olivia broke her gaze and left the impromptu stage, with annoying grace.
"Now, I know you're all impatient and want to begin with the auditions. So we'll begin after a quick explanation." He surveyed the crowd with uncharacteristic sternness.
"There are ten spots available in the Violet Crusade. Judging on what talent and determination I see tonight, ten will return to headquarters with me tonight to arrange ordinary cover-up lives for them. The rest will return home and never speak of this or of the identities of our recruits. We'll be watching, and if you ever spitefully slip one of their names or identities, we will dispatch a memory-eraser to take care of you and your dangerous information…" He paused, letting the crowd process this rather daunting information.
"Alright!" he said, clapping his hands together. "Let's begin."
Everyone was arranged into groups of ten. A Violet Crusade member supervised. Each auditioner would state their ability and an alias—this was all a very secretive affair. I called myself, "Lassie," similar enough to my name so I would respond to it when I heard it. The supervisor smiled admiringly at me when I told her my alias, thinking I had some sort of profound love for the fictional dog.
After information, the hundred of us or so regrouped. The supervisors explained that we were to play a big game of capture the flag. The supervisors and Josh would watch from the memorial and analyze our talent as we competed. A few of the auditioners groaned at hearing they would have to compete in a childish game.
But I was ecstatic. Capture the flag was nothing to me. I wouldn't even have to run after I found the flag! I'd just teleport back to home base and wave it nonchalantly over my head!
The group was separated into two teams: dark and light.
Claire, Dempsey and I were situated on the light team.
An aggressive college student, whose alias was suitably "the aggressor" insisted on hiding the flag in the most obvious place, to confuse the enemy.
It took the opponents ten minutes to stash their flag.
When the game began, I immediately appeared on the other side.
We weren't wearing colors to indicate which team we were on. "In the crime world, you may not know whose the good guy and whose the bad guy," Josh had told us. "You'll just have to know."
No one even glanced twice at me as I snooped around the trees. I was going to win this without even breaking a sweat.
I encountered an adversary near the frog pond.
A small, dark skinned girl with waist length dread locks suspiciously asked my identity.
"Are you dark or light?" she demanded.
"Dark," I answered instantly. "Just checking for traitors."
She continued to stare." If you were actually dark," she said slowly, "you would've asked my identity, since you're supposedly looking for traitors."
I wanted to kick myself for being so stupid. And I should've teleported right out of there to safety, but I was up for a little chase.
I snickered evilly, making her flinch a little. "So what, I'm light! What are you going to do?"
I waited for her to evaporate into thin air, or appear right in front of me. But she just started running after me at a pathetically sluggish pace.
I feigned a horrified scream and started running away, at a leisurely jog.
I was laughing hysterically as I made my complacent way towards the line when I suddenly hit something stone hard and bounced off.
Dazed, I pulled myself up, thinking I'd met a tree on my blind run through the forest.
A boy with unruly blond curls was standing over me, smirking. "Go to jail," he ordered, pointing.
I sullenly obeyed, sitting down beside Dempsey with a moan.
"How did you get caught?" I asked disappointedly.
"I'm not good for much except killing," he said with a forlorn sigh.
There were several others, dejected and waiting for an unlikely rescue, waiting in the dark-side prison.
Meanwhile, the dark had infested the light's territory. Sooner or later some loser would stumble over the flag, sticking out of a rock but invisible in the darkness.
Claire appeared, smiling, and slapped everyone freedom.
Josh, on the monument, let out a little cheer for her.
We all made a mad dash for the line—well, I just appeared on the other side of it and started smacking darksiders left and right, but they had to make their way back.
Landon was sprinting his way towards his territory determinedly. He had no pursuers, because no one could run as fast as he could. He was gripping the flag.
I appeared a few paces in front of him, and as he was passing in his hurry, snatched the flag from his hand.
He didn't realize it'd been stolen until he'd passed the line.
I smiled smugly, waving it at him.
He grimaced.
The game continued in this same, tedious fashion.
I was captured twice more, again and again by the curly haired boy who always smirked when he came out of nowhere and tagged me.
As the game came to its conclusion, Landon ended up using his faulty teleportation to win.
If only the curly boy hadn't been foiling my plans, I'd have won the game.
Everyone was sweating and breathing raggedly.
Josh congratulated Landon and the dark team, and the light team ignored the celebrating dark team jealously.
"We've seen a lot of talent," Josh said, exchanging a look with his score of supervisors. There was a clipboard in his hand. It was the list of the recruits they'd chosen.
"And unfortunately, this isn't one of those things where determination and dedication trump merit," he said flatly. "Your power is what brought us to choose you. This game was a short demonstration of how you used your power—effectively, or ineffectively."
He glanced down at his clipboard. "When I call your alias and power, join me on the monument. Darwin, telekinetic and mind reader." A tall, lanky bespectacled boy mounted the monument, making no attempt to hide his triumphant smile. Everyone clapped politely and grudgingly.
"Lion, Invisible," he continued, and Claire climbed awkwardly onto the monument, grinning widely at Massie.
"Artemis, pyrokinetic." A skinny girl with long dark hair stepped onto the monument, her expression vacant.
"Lee, regenerator." The clever girl with dreadlocks.
"Crane, Power Absorbtionist." Landon smiled grimly at Massie from his high position on the statue.
"Fish, Phasisionist." Cam hurried to join his girlfriend on the statue.
"Daren, flyer." Derrick took a leap and landed successfully on the monument. A few audience members tittered at his cocky entrance. He bowed to them.
"Denny, Death touch." Josh read Dempsey's name with a touch of coldness in his voice. Dempsey approached the stage quickly, as silence and apprehensive eyes followed him.
"Sam, teleporter." The blonde, curly haired boy who'd foiled her attempt to capture the flag so many times cockily appeared on the monument, making a few audience members gasped.
For the first time, Massie considered that she might not be chosen. They already had a teleporter after all.
"Finally, Lassie, teleporter." Massie followed Sam's lead and appeared on the monument beside him.
He smiled at her. "I had no idea," he said.
"Me neither," she replied, raising her eyebrows at him.
The rest of the crowd trickled away, disappointed.
Josh turned to his recruits, his Violet Crusade and grinned. "Welcome, then!" he said cheerily. "We'll start heading back to headquarters now."
They walked the one-mile back to the secluded headquarters.
Massie talked a great deal with her fellow teleporter on their journey "home".
His real name was Salem, and he'd traveled all the way from Newfoundland to audition.
"I came here for excitement," he explained in his Irish-tinted Canadian accent. "And I'm going to get it."
"You think?" Massie prompted.
"Yes," Salem said, his hazel eyes shining hopefully. "This? This is the real game. And the games—they're about to begin."
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