Live 4 Act 2
/x/
Erik Steiner looked up at the grey skies above, the looming clouds a stark reminder he was not only stuck in a mostly dead shithole of a city, but he was stuck with too many undesirables who spoke languages he didn't understand and had a skin tone that's not beige. He glared at said undesirables as they walked past him in a pack, solidifying his view that Brockton Bay had too much of them.
After all, one of them was walking and breathing. That's one too many.
As the pack left his line of vision, and he bid good riddance by yelling out what he thought of them to before one of his seniors in the Empire approached. Erik had much respect for the older skinhead who went by the name Samson, a good Aryan name as far as he was concerned. Erik stood up and snapped to attention, which annoyed Samson to no end, who sighed and rubbed his freshly shaved and shined dome. Erik swore to snap to attention one and a half seconds faster next time.
"Erik," Samson intoned with much solemnity," I bring bad news."
"Bad news, brother? Is it the Jews again?"
"It's always the Jews, Erik," Samson said with a tinge of irritation at the redundant nature of his brother's query, for the international banker is always up to devious evil such as late charges on your bill. "The only difference is how much of Jew trickery. Today, Karl, your brother was bewitched by one of their agents in the form of a pop idol!"
Erik felt the fire of righteous fury burn in his chest as Samson took out a phone he recognised as Karl's. Samson gave a mournful gaze to the phone that laid low one of their own, then to Karl before him spoke in a low tone.
"Beware, Erik. I've confiscated this phone after I've heard him bopping his head like some degenerate to some Zionist pop-filth. Apparently, he was going to watch some kind of streaming video in his quest to further debase himself."
Erik's fire burned brighter as Samson started the stream. He will now learn what evil has been wrought upon his racial brother.
/x/
The camera shook, before it focused onto a bright dance studio with a large mirrored wall. A teenage girl, tall with black wavy hair stretched herself in a corner of the room next to the mirror. She wore black tights, loose cotton shorts and a pink sleeveless t-shirt over it, and was putting on stripped leg warmers when the camera zoomed in on her. Bright green eyes stared at the camera, and her black curly bangs with brown highlights waved frantically as the teen yelped in surprise at the sudden intrusion.
"Oh Utahime!" The girl yelped as she backed away from the camera. "Go away! I'm preparing for dance practice!"
This is a candid shot! Now, go ahead and introduce yourself.
"You serious?! Oh man, I'm totally not prepared for this."
Erik felt a strange heat on his face as the girl fretted about her hair and straightened her clothes before she gave a smile to the camera. It wasn't the most glamorous or even perfect of smiles, and it was a bit crooked at the right end edge of the mouth. But the earnestness shone through when she grinned so widely, her eyes almost disappeared like a Chinese who found a stray cat behind his shop.
"Hi! I'm Spotlight. You've probably recognise me from my Live at Downtown four days ago. Umm, Top Hat Guy? If you're watching this, I'm sorry for taking your hat away during the performance. You can have it back if you want it," Spotlight then waved a purple top hat into the camera. "And that skinhead who asked for my autograph? Thanks for being my first fan! Umm, even if you were going to commit a hate crime on me. For the record, I'm not actually Jewish,"
Erik pumped his fist, before a glare from Samson stopped him.
"But even if I was, I still hope you will stop doing that, okay?"
"See!" Samson exclaimed. "The witch bares her fangs!"
Well, I wish she'd bite me, thought Erik before he caught himself slipping. He thought of good decent things-white things. Like Shepard's pie, whiskey and death metal music while he continued his quest to study the enemy's insidious plot to undermine hearts and minds with candid videos.
So Spotlight, why did you choose idolhood anyway?
"The idol life really chose me. Producer appeared at my school, then told me I had a beautiful smile before he said he wanted me to be a star."
So you swooned and took up his offer?!
"Well, no!" Spotlight flushed. "He acted like a creep, so I yelled for the police and they clubbed him on the head before dragging him away."
Ha! Classic Producer. I bet all of our boys and girls in blue knows about him by now.
Spotlight giggled, and Erik looked around to ensure that no one he knew was around before he continued to watch. The camera had left the studio, and was walking down a plain hallway as they trailed behind Spotlight's back. Her wavy hair seemed to float as she walked, and small specks of light darted in and out of her clothes. Erik sneaked a glance at Samson, who continued to watch stone-faced.
So, Spotlight. Where are you taking us?
"Oh that?" Spotlight stopped outside a door marked Talent Production Agency, and pushed open the door gently. An office with a view of the bay was revealed, with several large grey leather sofas placed prominently in the middle of the room. The camera focused on a blonde teen in a purple, sequined skirt and small hat, who gave an animal-grin as the lenses focused on her. Erik watched gape-jawed as the newcomer adjusted her purple dress and touched up on her lipstick that matched her red earrings, before she blinked and the young skinhead felt relief that his heart throbbed for the blonde beauty in front of him.
Oh thank God! I thought I was completely ensnared by Spotlight. But now, this Aryan beauty will save me!
So, why don't you introduce yourself?"
"Sure!" The blonde said perkily before she looked straight into the camera. "Hi everyone! I'm Lisa. Y'know, I was supposed to have a stage name and all, but you know what, bleep it!"
Lisa blinked at the sound effect, before she mouthed off another expletive.
"Holy bleep! Real Time Censorship on a live stream! This is bleeping awesome!"
Okay, Lisa. Can it with the valley girl act. You're from up north.
"Yeah, yeah. Anyways I was approached by Producer, who was up to his usual tricks. Dodging the police, being all creepy but kinda adorable in his own creepy way. Oh, and Boss? Yeah, you know who you are. I'm with Producer now, so if you can somehow track him down and take care of him, you...still won't be getting me back. I know you know I'm not exactly loyal, but yeah. He wants me, and showbiz is better than crime biz even in this town. I'm not a good singer, not that good a dancer, but if it means I'm away from you, then yeah."
Lisa flashed two raised fists towards the camera, with most of the hands blotted out by a bright light.
"I'm sure you get the message, even with the two globs of light blocking my hands. Peace out!"
The camera shook as it turned towards the roof of the room, revealing uncovered pipes and a metal ceiling before it zoomed back into the grimacing face of Spotlight, who glared off-screen before she looked back at Erik.
"Right, now that Lisa's done provoking a supervillain, let's cut to Producer and Shadow Stalker!"
"Finally! Shadow Stalker!"
Erik gave a suspicious glance to Samson, who waved off the younger neo-Nazi without removing his gaze from the screen.
"Just eager to enact due justice against her. You know how I feel about Shadow Stalker after she pinned me to the wall a week ago."
The screen transitioned seamlessly, as it changed to the grey skies and rocky sands of Brockton Bay's beach. The Ship Graveyard was visible in the background, and in the dreary backdrop a black teenager in a black knee length dress with gold trims glared at the camera. The purple bat hair accessories next to her beret fluttered and glowed as if alive, while her light purple mantle shimmered with glass studs. Both skinheads studied the unmasked face of the former Ward turned idol, but drew a blank.
"Unmasked, and we're still unable to tell her apart from the others. Why do they all look the same?!"
So, Shadow Stalker. Why not you introduce yourself to your fans?
"Bite me, you fat fuck. You're the one who mastered me and put a goddamn soundtrack in my head!" Shadow Stalker blinked before she bared her teeth in delight. "I can swear?! I can fucking swear!"
Yes. I figured this would be more in line with your already existing image, so I did not have Armsmaster's speech filter installed for your segment of the promotional video.
"You damn right it fits!" Shadow Stalker snarled before she turned back to glare at the camera. "Now listen, all you criminal scum. Just because I developed a taste for karaoke and bright shiny costumes, doesn't mean I won't grind you sad sacks into the ground and haul you to join your friends in jail! You got that?! When we meet in some dark alley while I hunt you down, I'm still gonna pin you to the wall, beat the shit out of you!"
Shadow Stalker flashed her crossbow, now painted matte black with blood red gems carved into the wooden frame.
"See here?!" the idol tapped at the bolt on the crossbow. "It got your name on it! In blood!"
Samson peered closer at the screen, in hopes of seeing his name before he slumped back when it was clear there was no name written on it. Erik just looked at the time on the stream, wondering when Lisa and Spotlight will return.
"So you see-why the fuck are you laughing, Vista?!"
The camera zoomed away from Shadow Stalker, and showed Vista in her green pixie costume bent over in laughter.
"I said," Shadow Stalker snarled. "What the fuck are you laughing about?"
"Oh God," Vista choked out between her laughs. "Don't ever change from your new look, Stalker. You're simply precious!" Vista said as she dodged a red tip bolt. The youngest Ward then straightened up and the camera followed her as she walked over to several hulks of metal and wood next to the shore. Stage crew dressed in t-shirts with the PRT logo scurried around the hulks, yelling directions and setting up lights before the camera focused back onto Vista.
"Hi everyone! Sorry for those of you who loved my previous duet with Shadow Stalker," Off-camera, a string of expletives in German and English could be heard. "But I'm not here for an encore with Stalker. Instead, with the help of Dragon, her friends from the Guild and some people we can't name for various contractual reasons I'm here to do this."
Vista stretched out her hands, as several Dragon suits dragged the hulks together. Space twisted, and the hulks came together to form a stage with metal steps with a wooden finish that spiralled to a raised dais. A black SUV dashed to the foot of the dais, and Lisa and Spotlight clambered out of the vehicle chased by Utahime. The camera shook as the camera man dashed over to the trio of newcomers, who waved at the camera before Shadow Stalker glumly walked onscreen and joined the other idols. Lisa looked bored, Spotlight looked nervous, while Shadow Stalker looked like herself. One more passenger then came out of the black SUV, a cape dressed like a Victorian doll with a porcelain mask and blonde curls. She glanced at the camera, waved before she walked over to the three teenage idols and hand them a glowing orb each.
"And here you girls go. The joint project Armsmaster and the Guild requested," the doll-faced cape said before she turned towards the camera again, and spoke.
"Name's Parian! If you like what you're about to see, and I think you will, you know where to find my shop!"
A burst of light from off-screen and the sound of fireworks going off drowned out Parian, and the camera focused back onto the idol trio who walked hand in hand to the stage. Erik gripped his chest in excitement, afraid his heart will burst out of his throat when Spotlight stood forward and began to speak.
"Everyone, thanks for watching us wherever you may be. And yes, this is our first official Live here in Brockton, and also the first as a unit."
The other two stepped up, and clasped Spotlight's hands as they spoke with one voice.
"We're Spectrum! And this is our song to you! Summer Coloured Smiles, 1, 2 Jump!"
Grey clouds gave way to bright blue as the sun poured its rays onto the stage, and a ball of light engulfed the trio before they stepped out in striped one-piece swimsuits, a shimmering transparent sarong and sleeveless vests. Their earrings and brooches gleamed along with their smiles as they waved towards the crowds that walked to the stage before the screen went dead.
"Hey, what gives?" Both skinheads yelled as a screen appeared with a stylized Utahime holding a map. Samson's eyes squinted, before he sighed and pulled out his wallet.
"Samson. Brother. What are you doing?"
"What does it look like, Erik. We're not going to make it the Ship Graveyard by the time the performance is over, so I'm paying to watch! Now give me your credit card too."
"What?" Erik shouted in disbelief. "Why do you need my card?"
"Because there's a lucky draw for those who purchase more than one ticket for a chance to attend a meet and greet as well as the sing-off between Shadow Stalker and Spotlight! Or do you want to disappoint Spotlight?"
Erik shuddered as the image of a downcast Spotlight looking upon him in disappointment played in his head, before he took out his one remaining credit card that the bankers had not cancelled.
I'll do anything for..for...
Erik struggled for the word, before he remembered one term he heard his cousin who was full bore into degeneracy and idols had used before.
My waifu. I'll do anything for my waifu.
/x/
Cornell University. A hallowed institute of learning. A century and half's worth of scholars have walked her halls, and many a great idea that went on to benefit humanity found its genesis here. Of course, with academia, comes disagreement. Sometimes it takes a rather violent form of protest, when a brilliant but misguided mind takes offence at disagreement from what he considers inferior minds. Riots, duels, sometimes even bringing a bear to campus as Lord Byron did in Cambridge.
Creating bombs that turned people into frogs however? Now that's a rather thankfully rare occurrence in the annals of campus violence.
"Ms Nakajima," a thin man with pale skin and a long face said, his calm voice belied the mortal fear he felt of being turned into an amphibian. He had a chronic phobia of frogs. "If you'll just listen to reason."
A puff of smoke, shattered glass and a wall came tumbling down. Then, instead of the moans and screams that usually accompanied a bombing- the unceasing croaking of frogs. And a few toads, and quite a number of tadpoles too.
The professor frowned. He preferred his crazed domestic bombers to be competent if they're going for themed mayhem.
A woman with long black hair, crazed blue eyes and an old cell phone stared into the eyes of the thin man.
"You gave me a B plus instead of an A! I'm an Asian, not B-sian!"
"Ms Nakajima..."
Lia Nakajima brandished her phone.
"Change my grade now! Or I'll turn every last warm body in this dump of a campus into so many frog legs all of Quebec will choke!"
/x/
Paige glanced to her left at her former producer, who was busy adjusting her white fedora before she turned her nervous gaze at the gathered police. It won't be long before the New York Protectorate arrived in force, and she's not confident even the hatted woman can get the both of them out unscathed if Legend were to arrive.
"Ms Lucky, are you absolutely sure that you have to be here? Can't you like wait for the Protectorate to bust her before you spring her like you did me?"
"Oh Paige. Still the same as the first time I've scouted you and made you a junior idol."
Paige pouted, and brushed away Lucky's gloved hand as her old mentor patted her head. Her producer chuckled, and the pitch perfect wonder that was her laugh made Paige wondered why she never took to the stage.
"Trust in the Groove, Paige. Trust in the Groove."
/x/
The music started suddenly, and Lily pressed the button on the phone she had set to explode the bombs. A voice in her head asked her which one was it, and to this she replied.
Enough.
Loud cracks and the roar of tumbling walls brought a smile onto the face of the new parahuman, before she noticed instead of croaks and wailing, the synthesized beats, bass and electronic organ grew louder. Lily scowled and pressed a few more buttons for another set of explosives she had planted, but no gigantic fireballs burst out of the walls like they're supposed to. But that wasn't the worst part.
"Synth-pop!" Lia spat out as the music got louder. "I loathe synth-pop!"
Your butt is mine. Gonna tell you right.
"Come and get it, bitch!" Lia snarled and triggered a bomb that filled the only hallway into the lecture hall with spikes.
Oww!
"Ha! That hurts, doesn't it! Wait, you're not supposed to-"
Just show your face, in broad daylight. I'm telling you, on how I feel.
"Pain! You're supposed to feel excruciating pain and die!"
The freeze bombs she set on the walls detonated, turning glass and brick into a sheet of frozen ice that cracked and collapsed. A thin, tall woman with long hair and a deep suit studded with crystals slid backwards into the lecture hall. Lia tossed a few homemade bombs, before the woman stiffly turned towards her and leaned forwards at a perfect ninety degrees.
"Woo!"
Riot shields flew in from the collapsed walls and knocked against the bombs, the explosion and shrapnel showering everywhere except where Lia, the strange woman and her hostages were.
"This is bullshit! The bearings were supposed to rip everyone a couple hundred new breathing holes!"
Lia heard the boots thump their way in, every time the heels touched the ground her body jerked along. The parahuman bomber snarled at the SWAT team as they trooped in to the beat of the music, their heads throbbing, their limbs swaying to the electronica being played. But before Lia could reach for a switch hidden in her left ring finger, she was blinded by a fistful of stars.
Come on, come on. Lay it on me, alright?
"Bitch! Take your flaky star dust away and I'll lay you alright!"
The sensation of hardened wood against her torso, before she felt more batons as they laid into her in sync with the music. The sound of her beating started to blend with the low growl of the electronic funk before she heard someone snap her fingers.
"To answer your earlier question," the singer said. "Not be able to speak because of all the spike? Yes, I agree."
Lia turned her bleary eyes around, only to get a face-full of frog for her troubles. She swore to never eat frog legs ever again after she felt their slimy limbs struggle in her face.
I'm telling you, on how I feel. Gonna hurt your mind, don't shoot to kill.
Vision blocked by amphibian, Lia panicked as she felt her detonator phone slapped away.
Because I'm bad! I'm bad! (I'm really, really bad!)
Lia summoned her last ounce of rage and strength to yell out who was doing back-up singing and that she sucked, but a punch to her face prevented her critique from being verbalised. All over the world, aspiring artists suddenly felt a strange surge of satisfaction.
And the whole world has to answer right now, just to tell you once again. Who's bad?
A choke slam against the lecturer's table, and Lia felt the wind knocked out of her as the damned frog was finally removed from her face. Her assailant was unknown to her. Her companion on the other hand, was rather famous. She gaped at the blonde woman with freckles and the feathers that stuck out of her fringe, who gave a shy smile in return.
"Canary? Wut?"
Lia would speak some more, but being star-struck and plain old struck didn't leave her very chatty.
"Hi," Paige waved. "No autographs."
Before Lia spoke, she found herself dragged to the floor as the hatted woman placed her arm around her shoulders. Her predatory grin didn't lessen her fears in anyway.
"Lia Nakajima. Fresh trigger who got upset because her article wasn't given a grade she wanted."
"Drop dead."
"Maybe later," the fedora woman said. "But whatever you do, don't give yourself some lame name like Bakuda."
Lia was yanked forward, and she found herself inches from the face of her assailant.
"Name's Lucky. How'd you like to be a star?"
Lia reached for her hidden trigger in her back pocket, before her arms went numb when the woman pinched her shoulder.
"Join me," Lucky winked. "I promise you it'd be a blast."