Right, so this idea hasn't been leaving me alone since I watched Arcane. Been writing it in-between REmnant DxD, and thats where its staying. Updates are gonna be an as and when thing, but I'll try to not let it go too long between them.
Don't own Arcane/League of Legends or MHA, not earning cash from this, please don't sue me.
The common room of class 1-A's dorm building is full. Not unusual for a Sunday evening, though with three of their own still not back from their work studies yet–especially after the close calls they'd been through during the raid on the Shie Hisaikai headquarters last weekend–the tension in the room is palpable. "When's the Press Conference starting, Iida-kun?"
Before the Class rep can answer, which would be difficult as most of 1-H begin–rather loudly–adding their displeasure to the impatience of the pink-haired instigator that had got them all crammed into 1-A's common room, Monama loudly grouses, "I agree with Hatsume. There's no reason we should all be watching this stupid interview in this smelly-"
A disembodied hand cracks him upside the head, cutting the loud-mouthed teen off. "Because Kendo and Shiozaki were part of the same raid that forced this stupidity. Now keep your mouth shut before I have to tell her that you've been trying to start shit again," Setsuna growls from her perch on the back of one of the couches. Which, to be honest, is probably one of the more comfortable spots in the crowded room.
"If all these extras wanna leave, that's fine by me," Kaachan growls from where he's leaning against the back wall, arms crossed, right foot tapping against it agitatedly. "Hell, just because Legs started the year with those extras in the Support course doesn't mean they need to be in our dorm to watch this crap."
Kirishima elbows the ash-blond loudmouth. "Dude, she specifically asked for Mei and guys from 1-H to be here for this."
"Looks like it's starting," Fumikage points out, just loudly enough to be heard over the bickering. Everyone goes quiet and all eyes fall on the big-screen centered on the far wall of the crowded room. Much to everyone's disappointment, it isn't the promised press conference with Gang Orca, Uwabami, Snipe-sensei and their absent classmates.
Rather, the screen is taken up mostly by a suit-clad, camera-headed anchor, a stack of papers held firmly in his gloved hands. "Welcome to this special broadcast of Channel Twelve News. Our coverage of the Press Conference that has been called for after the sting that took place yesterday evening in Kanagawa Prefecture that culminated in the apprehension of the upstart Villain group known as the BloodLords will be starting soon. However, we here at the station believe some context is required for our viewers to best understand the events that unfolded there, and what will most likely be the focus of discussion at the Conference." The man pauses and takes a sip of water from the glass off to the side of his desk. "As it isn't the professionalism and success of the Pro heroes who led the strike, or the groundwork leading up to the raid that we can now confirm also supported the successful dismantling of the Shie Hassaikai Yakuza family last weekend, that is making the most waves. Once again, it is the actions and triumphs of the exceptional crop of first year UA students that has people talking."
The screen shifts, the anchor and his desk now shrunk down to the bottom right corner of the display. "From astonishing displays of power…'' The larger screen shows the–at this point kind of boring–aerial shot of UAs stadium during the Sports Festival, half frozen over. "And daring feats of heroics showing bravery and courage well beyond their years…" This time it's a shot from the ground of Izuku himself, Eri riding his back as he was fighting Overhaul while falling through the sky above the ruined Yakuza hideout. It is an awkward couple of minutes, listening to some random guy with a cell-phone gush over him. His face is pretty flushed by the end of it, and Ochaka worms a bit closer to him. She'd probably been shoved by Sato or Shishida—the couch is pretty crowded, after all.
"To displays of grit that showcase the heart and drive of these heroes in the making as much as they call into question the sanity of those exceptional teenagers…" This time it cuts to a shaky, grainy shot of Powder-er, Jinx stood in front of a crashed, smoking school bus that looks like it's still full of kids during what Deku is pretty sure is the night of the Hosu incident. There isn't much audio aside from the guy holding the phone panickedly explaining that villains or monsters or something are attacking all over the city. That and his classmate shrieking like a banshee at something just off-screen. She's more lit by the fire and the electric-blue light peeking through the seams of her mostly black breastplate–not enough to light up the chaotic pink and blue graffiti she usually covers it in though–the half-dozen armored holsters for her hex-lock pistols that protrude from her armor all glowing just as brightly as the seams, the toy-like tubular grips of her hextech stun-guns and the trio of lit-up glass tubes filled with dancing bolts of electric blue energy where you'd expect to see a hammer on a traditional revolver casting light across her torso at weird, chaotic angles.
She's got her minigun–Vee-Vee; when Deku had asked her about the name she'd just said something about Pow-Pow having fallen down a well, whatever that means–drawn, is braced out and clearly firing her largest weapon at something. Moments later a hulking Nomu–its reverse digitigrade legs and two pairs of arms just a bit too long for its stocky, barrel-like torso–enters the recording, Jinx's rubber bullets–he thinks, he can't make out which ammo drum is loaded into the gun on the low quality video–bouncing off its dark skin. It takes a swing at her with one of its lower, slender clawed hands almost as soon as it enters the frame. She sidesteps the attack, slamming the back of her minigun into the base of the hunched brute's skull, sending it stumbling away from the bus it had nearly plowed into after missing her. She drops the oversized gun as the monster skids away from her, and pulls the pistols holstered at her shoulders free, leveling the one in her right hand and firing it at the monster in the same motion. She takes half a step forward, braided ponytails flowing behind her, holstering the now dark gun in her right hand as she levels the one in her left, still crackling with blue-white arcs of electricity in its capacitor glass-tubes at the Nomu and lets fly what looks like a brace of intertwined lightning bolts. They hit the Nomu, which goes from twitching and snarling from the first hit to howling in rage at her otherwise ineffectual attacks.
Normally, one hit is enough to put a person down for a minute or two, nerves screaming in protest, muscles seizing up and smarting like hell from where you got hit. Izuku is uncomfortably familiar with the sensation, having been on the receiving end of her Hex-locks barrels more than a few times in Heroics class. The Nomu, however, just launches itself back at her. Again, the wiry girl manages to–barely–avoid its sweeping attack, this time a haymaker from its club-like upper right fist by diving into a roll at the last possible second. She comes up to her right knee, right arm having drawn one of the hex-locks holstered between her shoulder-blades on her armored 'Hex-core-harness'. With a quick flourish she shoots the beast in the back, the recoil jerking her arm back and up in a trajectory roughly towards the holster she'd drawn from. Her left arm snaps out moments later, the hex-lock formerly holstered under her right armpit grasped firmly and firing again as soon as the arm extends, sending the Nomu into an uncontrolled tumble across the asphalt.
The video clip cuts out as the Anchor continues. "To levels of anger and disrespect bordering on villainous behavior." Izuku looks away from the screen, really not wanting to see the clip of Kaachan making a fool of himself at the end of the First Years tournament during the Sports Festival again. The problem is that that only really leaves him with the snippet of footage of Powder fighting a Nomu by herself to mull over. He knows she came back fine–well, covered in bruises with a broken arm, a concussion, and half a dozen or so teeth missing from the side of her face that was one big bruise with her blackened eye swelled shut, but alive and grinning at least–and the Hero that she'd been shadowing hadn't abandoned her and shown up to deal with the Nomu not too long after the clip they'd just seen had ended, according to Jinx. "With that in mind, along with whatever else all you folks at home may have seen or heard of UA's newest batch of Heroes in Training, you shouldn't be too surprised when the quintet of them that will be at the Conference wind up becoming the center of focus instead of the Pros ostensibly running it or the villains they brought to justice with them." He pauses again, offering the screen a grin from the mouth that looks pinned to the camera-lense that serves as his eye. "We'll be back after the conference with analysis as well as a more in-depth look at the students of UA's class 1-A and B, where they came from, and the sort of Heroes and Heroines we expect them to grow into."
The screen flicks over to a fairly plain, and to Izuku at least, familiar scene. A white-walled room with a long table set up on one side of it, a handful of microphones in front of each Hero or Heroine sat at the table. At its center sits the hulking, black and white suit-clad form of Gang Orca, hands clasped in front of him looking calm–well, Izuku thinks he looks calm–but his mood has always been hard to read with how inexpressive his quirk leaves his face. To his right, Uwabami is filing her nails and looking bored—stunning as ever in her iconic red dress, but bored nonetheless. To the Number twelve hero's left, Snipe is leaning back in his seat, fingers laced behind his head and–probably–looking at the ceiling. Opposite the table is a veritable ocean of reporters, cameramen and aides, most seated, some already standing.
On the far right of the table, Jiro, Sero and Powder are all sitting, one set of microphones set up for the three of them, and all three clad in their Hero costumes. In the better light it's easier to make out the top half of Jinx's costume than it had been on the crappy cell-phone video from earlier. Her armored harness doubles as a breastplate that stops at her short ribs, leaving her arms and midriff bare. Not that you can really notice that with her hunched forward on the table, chin rested on her fingerless-gloved right fist. The hard, armored bracer extending back from her wrist to her elbow that ends with a blunt-tipped protrusion going just under a half-foot beyond that is painted in the same matte black as the armor covering her chest and the knee-length greaves that are hidden by the table, along with her pink and lavender striped cargo-pants and brace of utility belts. The right bracer has a rough approximation of the tattoos it's covering sloppily painted over it. Izuku can kind of see the neon pink and blue 'x' sloppily spray-painted across the center of Jinx's breastplate, the electric blue light of the hex-gem at its center falling across her left arm, which is resting on the table, fingers drumming idly as her vibrant blue eyes bounce around the room, clearly bored as hell. Her bronze, shark-toothed gas mask is resting on the table as much as it is hanging around her neck, most of whatever grafiti she has on it today just as impossible to see through the screen as whatever else is on her breastplate. Jiro looks less bored than 1-A's twenty-first member, but not by much. At least she's sitting up, Izuku supposes. Lida's probably going to scold both of them when they get back to UA either way. Sero is sitting up rigidly and a bit wide-eyed, honestly looking like he's about to start fidgeting any moment, or just up and run.
On the far side of the table, Kendo is sat properly and confidently in her chair, shooting the occasional grateful glance Uwabami's way, and Shiozaki is... praying? Or just waiting. Either way, she looks positively serene. "Ha! See how much more respectable Kendo and Ibara look compared to those 1-A delinquents? Clearly we will-"
"Sorry about that. I can just gag him if the rest of you want," Setsuna sheepishly offers, having cut the loud-mouthed blonde off with another slap to the back of the head. Prodded by the grumbling of, well, pretty much everyone not in 1-B, the disembodied hand wraps itself around the copy-cat quirk wielder's mouth, much to his–thankfully now mostly inaudible–complaint.
For a few minutes the press conference goes on like any other: the heroes thanking the police, investigators and side-kicks who had helped them but wouldn't fit in the already packed room or behind the table with enough microphones to participate properly. Going over the arrested villains' crimes, how they had been captured, collateral. All of the usual. "In fact, now that both of the operations are complete, I can publicly and officially confirm that the investigative work that allowed us to apprehend the self-styled BloodLord villain group did tie into the late Sir Nighteye's brilliant raid on, and arrest of, the entire surviving leadership of the Shie Hassaikai Yakuza family. In fact, nearly a third of the corrupt officers that were brought to justice as part of the preparatory stage of my operation this weekend had direct ties to the now defunct Yakuza group," Gang Orca rumbles as the reporter who had asked the question sits back down, scribbling away at a notepad.
A blue-skinned, purple-haired woman stands up, microphone already held at the ready. "Kizuki Chitose, Deika City Herald," she introduces herself, not reacting any more than the Pro Heroes at the center of the table to the continued flashing of cameras and muttering of her peers. "Is it true that you had schoolchildren leading the investigation into several of the precinct houses that fell under your scrutiny?"
Gang Orca nods. "I did. All five have their provisional licenses, and the ones I placed in tentative leadership roles were the best suited to the investigations I set them to."
"How is it that the quirkless girl Powd-"
"Jinx has earned her provisional license, an' was workin' with Gang Orca's agency as a parta UA's work-study program as a sidekick, and you'll darn well remember ta treat 'er with the respect such an impressive young lady deserves," Snipe cuts the reporter off, the reverberation of his gas-mask not disguising the chastisement in his tone any more than it does his accent.
Chitose grimaces at that, and flips a page in her notebook. "Why was the mentally unstable, quirkless Sidekick going by Jinx left in charge of the investigation into one of the Precinct houses that fell under your scrutiny then?"
"Umm, I'm sorry that my quirk isn't flashy like yours, blue-skin, but I've got one like everyone else at UA," Jinx interrupts the byplay, having leaned over just enough to get her face by the mics on the 1-A students' side of the table.
Gang Orca clears his throat, drawing the attention back to him. "I placed Jinx in charge, and gave her the support of a dozen of my full-time sidekicks, because her skill-set is uniquely fit for apprehending a large group of individuals for questioning with a minimal application of manpower or risk to the suspects and heroes alike." He pauses, scowling before adding, "And, just to reiterate for the record, every last student in UA, or any other Nationally accredited Heroics course is required to have a clean bill of physical and mental health before they are admitted to the course."
Chitose arches an eyebrow at that. "So you admit to having been aware of, and approved the methods she employed to wrongfully detain-"
"Lawful heroes arrest," Jinx's annoyed voice corrects the reporter, cutting her off mid-sentence. She sounds calm, but Izuku has seen her clam like this before. It isn't likely to last long. The fact that Kaachan is grinning like a madman and just let out a dry laugh is only making Izuku more nervous. "I let all the innocent cops go as soon as the interviews were done," she continues, left hand waving expressively as she launches herself back and away from the table to lean into her chair.
Scowling, the reporter replies, "Then you wouldn't mind us putting the security camera recording of how you 'apprehended' those officers on the screen?" She tilts her head towards the wide projector screen dominating the wall to the Heroes right and reporters left. Both Uwabami and Gang Orca bolt upright in shock, reaching for their microphones.
Before either can do anything to intervene, Jinx offers a shrug, a nod and a lazy, "Sure, why not?" The reporter nods at one of the technicians from her station that is sitting near her, and the screen cuts out for a moment. When it returns, the TV is dominated by the image of a massively overcrowded office or conference room. Grumpy police officers, tired ones, nervous- or bored-looking ones. Some have their uniforms pressed and clean, ready to start a day filing reports or patrolling a beat, others dirty and disheveled, clearly eager to go home for the day. The door on the opposite wall from the camera slams open, bouncing off the wall it's set in as Jinx strides into the room, left hand planted on her hip, right spinning one of her braids. She clears the entrance just in time for the door to slide past her and clack shut again.
"Attention Coppers!" she crows in her forced 'playing with a kid' voice. Oh no. "I've got good news and bad news!" The entire station is now glaring at the fifteen-year-old girl intruding in their office. They'd probably been told that the whole station had been brought into the office to meet with a hero, and between her kind-of-adequate armor, over-abundance of guns, grenades and gadgets hanging from her belts and harnesses and gaudily colored clothes, Jinx is right on the line between heroic and villainous in appearance.
The cops all start shouting her down almost as soon as the last word clears her lips. Izuku notices that a familiar greenish gas had started seeping in through the air return vents the moment the door had shut behind her. She tries to talk, twice, but can't be heard over the din. Frowning, she jams her left hand into one of her pockets and pulls out a fist-sized papier-mâché monkey head. She grips the length of cord dangling from its chin and throws it towards the ceiling with the other. The Popper–just an under-powered flashbang with a pull-cord arming fuse really, but that's what she calls them–goes off above her head, and silences the room. "The good news is, you all get the rest of the day off!" Most of the police look either confused or happy at that announcement. From what Izuku can make out, the unhappy ones are mostly asking whether or not the day off will be paid or who will be overseeing their precinct.
Then Jinx fixes her gas mask into place, her chipper, playful tone taking on a menacing air as it reverberates through the burnished bronze piece of support gear. "The bad news is, we know at least six of you are working with villains and the Yakuza, so I'm gonna need to have a little heart-to-heart with each of you before you get your day off." She holds up the hand that had been placed on her hip to wave at the gathered officers with her fingertips. "G'night!" She chirps as the gathered officers start falling unconscious or rushing for the doors, all of which had apparently been barred. The screen cuts back to the press conference. Most of those officers are lumps on the ground before getting anywhere near the exits.
Powder blows her bangs away from her eyes. "What? My G'night gas is patented support gear. Finished that before I transferred from Support to Heroics. I have like three or four pro agencies looking to buy. It's safe."
"That wasn't an arrest, that was an assault, Jinx," the reporter accuses, a slight smirk crossing her face.
The blue-haired superhero in training grins back at the reporter and shrugs. "They all got a text to let'em know they'd been arrested with their rights and all that right before I walked in."
Chitose crosses her arms. "So you're saying that excuses how you conducted yourself when you interviewed the officers?"
Grinning, Jinx spins her chair around, waiting for it to be facing the press again before she replies. "I mean, the ones we wanted did admit they'd been bought off pretty quick."
"And nearly a third of the officers you 'interviewed' are pressing charges on the Gang Orca Agency for what you put them through."
Gang Orca leans forward, voice a bit panicked. "Charges that I have the utmost confidence will be dropped."
Jinx nods, still grinning as she leans forward again. "What the big guy said. Besides, it wasn't like any of them were in actual danger."
Professional facade cracking a bit, Chitose all but growls out, "You had an interrogation room dressed up like a charnel hall, girl."
Jinx actually blows a raspberry at the reporter's accusation. "Stage blood, prop-limbs, a few expired skin grafts from the emergency care clinic down the road. I thought you show-business types knew about that sort of stuff."
"I am a reporter," Chitose snaps at the younger girl.
Jinx just shrugs at that, grin even wider now. "Yea, like I said, showbiz."
"You purposefully used fear, and implied torture to elicit a confession from the officers you had arrested," the blue-skinned woman growls. "There were two pairs of index and middle fingers laid out on the table you were using."
Another shrug from his classmate. "Ehh, PowerNewt can grow stuff back. We needed the fingers for it to seem legit." She chuckles, gaze bouncing around the shocked-silent room. "Real blood smell and all that."
Scowling furiously, Chitose presses "So you also admit to mutilating a supposed fellow hero for this miscarriage of justice? Depriving him of fingers from both-"
Jinx slams her fist on the table, cutting the woman off. "Are you seriously trying to get into an argument about the specifics of a Hero's quirk on a live national broadcast that any whack-job villain could be watching right now?"
The older woman narrows her eyes and takes a deep breath, probably noticing the disapproving looks she's getting from most of her peers in the room. "That doesn't change the fact that by using that ploy you were heavily implying that you were with the Yakuza, and not an honest Hero in Training."
Jinx rolls to her feet, left kicking her chair out behind her to clatter across the floor as she rolls her eyes exaggeratedly. "Seventeen counts of statutory rape. Twelve homicide, nineteen manslaughter and-" she lets out a chuckle "A whoooole long list of misdemeanors and petty little shit too." She pauses, a slight frown crossing her face. "Last I heard Thornhead and Brass Spider were in with the homicide charges, soooo, y'know, they were hero-killers too if that somehow matters more or something."
Chitose blinks dumbly at that, a lot of the wind suddenly gone from her sails. "What?"
"Those are the combined charges that the eight Enforcers I caught out are facing." She scowls as the reporters face firms up a bit. "And before you go and say confessions under duress can't get used in court, all I got out of'em was Collusion. Gang Orca's people and the other cops handled allll the rest."
"So you admit to using terror tactics on those poor officers?"
"First, I said I was sorry to the innocent ones," Jinx quips, before her face goes hard. "And second, are you saying that child rapists and murderers shouldn't be afraid of a hero catching up with them? Of dragging their sorry asses out of whatever hole they'd been hiding in to pay for what they did?" Chitose, and a lot of the other reporters–and heroes, both in training and professional–are now sitting slack-jawed and gape-mouthed like fish out of water. "But since you're just tryin' ta stir the pot, and I've got everyone's attention, I've got an announcement to make! So y'all better listen, and listen good." She plants her hands on the table, and glares down the cameras. The screen flickers and her face, the furious, confident scowl etched across it now clear as day with it dominating the screen. "To every last Villain who lied their way into a Hero's license trying to undo everything that the rest of us stand for, and every crooked cop who thinks that badge is a free pass to do whatever the hell you want, not a promise to protect and serve the people: you better get scared, and stay scared. Cuz I'm comin' for ya. It might not be this week, or this month, or even this year, but sooner or later you're gonna look into a mirror, or over your shoulder and there I'll be. Hex-lock primed and leveled at the back of your head, ready to drop the hammer of justice on your ass. And there won't be a damn thing you can do to stop me."
The screen, suddenly, cuts back to the anchor in the station's newsroom. "We're, uhh, we're sorry for the interruption. The press conference will resume momentarily, umm, as soon as these unexpected technical difficulties have been worked out."
"Way to fucking go, Legs!" Bakugo crows into the otherwise silent common room. Well, All Might had given the rest of the class a watered down version of the 'telling the world I am Here' speech Izuku had gotten from him in heroics last wednesday.
Before anyone else can respond, Aizawa-sensei's tired voice interjects. "She's gonna get herself killed before she graduates." Izuku and most of the other first year students turn to look at their teacher, who's leaning against the doorway leading to the room, head planted in his right hand, which is massaging the bridge of his nose. "She just put a target so huge on her back that I don't think even All Might would be able to keep her alive to graduate even if he were still in his prime."