xx49.07.29 | 16:21 | Tuesday | [LUS]

believe she didn't hurt herself, she landed right on her arm. It's just lucky there wasn't anyone around, it's really quiet here! And SO dirty! And it smells pretty bad, kind of a weird smell, hot and dry and icky. It's only early in the afternoon but it's already getting dark, the sun's setting and the sky's all yellow and hazy. No clouds. I can even see the moon, it's so weird to think that we just came from there, it looks so far away, so little. Daniel's still up there, keeping watch on us.

C2's looking around at everything, I guess I am too. The streets are so wide! The city is so flat! This isn't like the simulation at all, but I guess the sim is only for the main central area of Powerstone City, this is more like the, what, the outskirts I guess, except I can look all the way down this wide empty road until the city fades into a kind of yellow-brown haze, so 'outskirts' seems kind of wrong. So many buildings, and none of them are more than two storeys high. They're all made of this seamless yellow construction material, like a kind of plastic clay, so this must be one of the reclaimed areas. Also the road's really cracked, in some places the cracks are big enough to put your whole foot in, pretty easy to trip over so I'm being careful. I can kind of see the 'proper' city in the distance, but it's just a bunch of shapes against the sky. Powerstone's really huge, I always knew it was a big city but I never knew it was THIS big. But where are all the people?

Huh, just looked at this entry and the start got cut off, that's weird.

[Session Paused]

[Session Resumed After 7 Seconds]

The last entry got cut off too, I guess maybe because of the teleportation? And some weird random text again ... oh well, I guess it doesn't matter so much, Daniel could probably explain it—which reminds me, I should send him a message.

[Session Paused]

[Session Resumed After 22 Seconds]

Okay, done. C2's pointing me towards a group of people down the street, maybe a gang! They're arguing pretty loudly about something, I think we'll take another road to Motoplasm's base. I hope he still lives there, it'd be really embarrassing if we showed up and some stranger answered the door—I mean I know that technically Motoplasm is a stranger too, seeing as I've never actually met him (or The Force) but he knows my parents and I've read literally every file on him and watched literally every video. I know, I know, there were times he strayed dangerously close to 'anti-hero' territory, especially before he teamed up with The Force, but he never actually stepped over the line. Well ... there were some rumours but there are ALWAYS rumours, especially about the top tier supers, and Motoplasm is DEFINITELY in the top tier. Dad once said that Motoplasm was the most dangerous super he ever worked with, I don't know if that's true because Dad worked with pretty much everyone, even supervillains a few times when things got complicated and desperate, but—

...yes, that was definitely a scream. C2 heard it too. We're in kind of an alley here, off the big wide roads and onto a bunch of little side streets, my Opal shows it as 'clear' but it definitely isn't, it's like a maze. Hard to tell where the scream came from, but it was a woman and she sounded scared.

Another scream. We're running now. I still have over half an hour of phase-shifting left, but it might be a good idea not to use that unless I have to—I'm trying to keep a low profile, if the supervillains have something going on here then I definitely don't want them to know I'm around.

Voices. Angry and rough. Arguing? Maybe. Still hard to tell where they're coming from. I haven't heard any more screaming.

Buildings are taller here, streets are narrower. It's darker than it was before. It's dirty and it stinks, that same hot, dry stink but sharper and more unpleasant. Graffiti on every wall, maybe gang tags? I'm not sure, it's not attractive graffiti like you see in movies, these are just ugly scribbles, mostly in black, some bright pink. Against the yellow of the buildings it looks awful.

Almost forgot about Daniel's 'super detector', I just activated it.

Two! It says two, that means—oh, no, wait. C2 and Daniel, since I'm still copying his power. If it goes to three that means there's a new super around.

Getting closer to the voices, then further away, then closer again, no more screams, maybe these aren't even the—

...

"—heard what the man said, he was all about this kinda stuff. Why not have a little fun is what I'm saying."

"Yeah, but how old's the bitch? And she ain't even awake, that ain't no fun, this stuff don't work like the other stuff."

"I can't even believe what I'm hearing, you two are some whiny little punks. If I had the right equipment I'd be—"

Two guys, one girl, all dressed the same; purple hoodies, black trackpants, dirty purple sneakers. Another girl, on the ground, small, unconscious, short skirt, ripped jeans, bright yellow top. The others are looking at me. The girl takes a step forward.

"This ain't your alley, chicky."

C2's waiting outside the alley entrance. I'm standing alone in front of the gangers. The girl just pulled out a gun.

Plenty of phase-shifting left.

She gets off a shot before I'm on her. It would've missed anyway. I grab her by the wrist and pull her forward, then slam my forearm down against the back of her neck. She crunches against the ground, face-first. One of the guys is staring at me, but the other's going for something. I assume it's a gun and react accordingly; he grunts and staggers, then falls to his knees, clutching at his groin. The other guy looks like he might try something, but a hard glare is enough to send him running. He doesn't look back. The girl's trying to get up and failing, the guy's still whimpering to himself.

I think I can call this fight 'over'.

The gun went skittering away when I dealt with the girl, but C2 took care of that. She already ejected the clip and the chambered round, which she's now pushing back into the clip. I'm kind of impressed that she knows how to do that.

"Get up. Both of you."

The guy looks like he's going to say something, but he sees C2 with the gun and even though it's obviously unloaded this gets him up. I grab the girl and pull her up, she claws at my face but I would've been disappointed if she hadn't; I catch her by the wrist and get her into a tight lock. She smells pretty bad. I'd love to tie them up and call the cops on them, but I can't exactly trust anyone at the moment, least of all whichever private security company is responsible for this area. For all I know the supervillains are controlling them. Besides, something else just caught my attention; my 'super detector' is showing 'four'.

I push the girl towards the guy, and speak:

"You've got two choices. Either you run and don't look back..."

"Or what?" says the girl.

I smile. "You really don't want to find out."

They run, and they don't look back.

C2 goes to check the unconscious girl. I'm just breathing and reflecting on the fight.

"One of you girls care to explain what happened here?"

C2 turns around, her eyes wide. I have to take a moment to compose myself, because I know that voice. I've heard it HUNDREDS of times before, that calm self-assurance, that hint of angry expectation, that beautifully understated shiver of threat. I take a deep breath, then I turn to see Motoplasm and The Force.

"Oh my goodness you guys were AWESOME when you took down Bad Harry I have like a MILLION questions how did you get around his psychic force field none of the videos or articles or ANYTHING explained that I always wondered if maybe The Force did something like an interaction of aura force fields and psychic force fields but I don't know, how was he even generating that? There are like SO many ways to make a psychic force field and even considering the tech level of the Chrome Age I figured that—"

Oh no I'm just babbling. What I'd intended to say was something like:

"Hello Mr Motoplasm, hello Mr The Force, I'm Charlotte Powers and this is my partner Charlotte Crescent AKA C2, you used to work with my parents, I'd like to ask for your help with something of great importance."

But no. Total and utter babbling. Motoplasm and The Force are just looking at me, they're both much older than in even the Dark Age videos of them but still SO COOL Motoplasm especially with his trademark thin black coat over his dark purple clothes and his little goatee thing is EXACTLY THE SAME and his eyelashes are SO LONG and he's SO BALD—

"I think Charlotte is excited to meet you," C2 is saying, thank goodness, I'm just standing there staring. "You were once in a cooperative with her parents; Forte and Silhouette."

"You're Charlotte Powers?" Motoplasm says. I draw myself up as he looks me over. "Little bigger than last I saw you. Are you adventuring now? Your parents never mentioned that."

"I'm ... I'm not adventuring, not exactly. I'm here to investigate—"

"That can wait. You, child. What's your name?"

"My real name is Charlotte Crescent but to avoid confusion I'm known as C2 when I'm with Charlotte Powers."

"C2. Sure. Can't help but notice what you're holding there, care to hand that to my partner?"

The Force steps forward to take the gun from C2. The Force and Motoplasm are about the same height but The Force is like three times wider. I probably shouldn't be so pleased that his hair is exactly the same as in the old videos, all blonde and straight and cut into an amazing 'square' style, it's just SO 'The Force', apparently back in the Chrome Age when he and Motoplasm really started getting attention there was a huge fad, like EVERY guy had that same hair. His clothes are different now, he used to wear more of a superhero uniform, kind of a black and white thing with yellow highlights, it looked cool but the white tanktop and faded green trousers he's got on now are more 'him' if you get what I mean. The tank top also shows off his arms really nicely. He's got really nice arms.

"Goodness," Motoplasm says, as C2 awkwardly hands the gun and clip to The Force. "You have the loveliest hands."

C2 kind of smiles at that. The Force puts the gun and clip in a bag he's carrying while Motoplasm goes to check on the girl.

"Another one," he says, and he takes something off the girl's neck. "Mal, catch."

Something small and black arcs through the air towards The Force, who lets it fall into his big hands then slips it into his bag.

"What was that?" I ask. "Was that a stunbug? Is there something going on here? Have we dropped RIGHT in the middle of something?"

Motoplasm's too busy helping the girl sit up to answer any of my questions. I look at The Force but he's watching Motoplasm.

"Come on, girl, you ain't hurt. You been walking here? Not on Baton Pass?"

The girl just looks at him. Motoplasm gets her on her feet.

"You can get on home now," he says. "Stay away from Baker Boys, it ain't for you. Go on, get."

The girl looks like she's going to argue, then she just walks away. She seems angry.

"Are you just letting her go? This area doesn't seem safe—"

"This area's my backyard, child, and that girl feels it the same as I do. She got in too deep, now she knows better." Motoplasm grins at me. "Or maybe she needs you to get her where she's going. You're free to follow."

"No, I want to—you're involved in something here, right? I'm right, aren't I. Because if you weren't, you would've taken her home yourselves."

Motoplasm is looking at me. It's making me kind of uncomfortable.

"Maybe you need someone to take you home," he says. "Do your parents know you're here?"

"No, but what difference does that make? Look, C2 and I are investigating the new supervillains—do you know about Segregation?"

Motoplasm and The Force exchange glances.

"We're not in that big picture game any more," Motoplasm says. "We just handle our local neighbourhood. Got our hands full even with that. As it happens we're out here looking for someone, got some responsibility there."

"Then I'll help, we'll help, C2 and me both, and then after we've found whoever you're looking for I want to talk to you about some stuff, about a lot of stuff—not about your old adventures even though I have literally hundreds of questions, about what's happening now, about weird things in this city—in YOUR neighbourhood."

"Weird things," The Force says. "We've got our share of those."

"Mal, you better take these two back to the shop. I can find—"

"No," I say. "No, I'm sorry, Mo—I'm sorry, Motoplasm, hehe, I respect you so much but I'm not some child who needs to be taken care of. I can help you—look."

I hold out my hand and concentrate, none of the powers I'm familiar with are 'extension' abilities so using The Force's power isn't easy, but after a moment I get it and a raw ball of transparent purple energy forms a few inches from my palm. I manage to keep it there for a couple of seconds before it warps and dissolves, leaving behind nothing but a clean sharp smell.

"So it's true," Motoplasm says. "Power mimicry."

I look at my Opal; over ten minutes of phase-shifting left. I make my arm disappear.

"Phase-shifting," I say, letting my arm come back into-phase. "And I've got your ability too, Motoplasm, hehe, although to be perfectly honest I'm terrified of using it. And C2's power is psychic shielding, if we come up against any psychics we wouldn't be affected! Well C2 would be less affected than me, but that'd give us an advantage, you KNOW how vulnerable you are to psychic attacks, look at when you were fighting NullSync! Not the original NullSync, obviously, I mean the second one, with the eye patch. Or that time with Envy Death in the abandoned hospital? That was embarrassing for everyone! Even for me, and I wasn't even there!"

"You remind me very much of your mother," Motoplasm says. "And so I imagine you're not going to take 'no' for an answer. But if anything happened to you—"

"Phase-shifting!" I say. "And C2 ... C2 can stay close to The Force, I know he wouldn't let anything bad happen to her. He's amazing with his force fields—The Force, hehe, you are AMAZING with your force fields, I know everyone thinks of you as this brute force guy because you're, well, I mean, look at you, you're massive, but your finesse is unbelievable, I can't even tell you how many hours I've spent studying your fight against Tobec, all of the popular commentators said that you were just more powerful but that's obviously not true, OBVIOUSLY not, you won that fight by being smarter and I always loved you SO MUCH for that. Um. I mean ... I mean ... you're awesome?"

At least The Force is smiling. He looks at Motoplasm, and Motoplasm shakes his head.

"I'm too old to argue this and it's gonna get dark 'round here, soon enough."

"So we can come with you? To find this 'someone' you're looking for?"

"It's not like we're going far. Just waiting on something to happen."

"Huh?"

Then I hear it, running footsteps getting closer. Motoplasm nods at The Force, and seconds later someone streaks by the alley entrance—and goes flying forward, bounces back, then The Force has him by the arm. He put up force fields! He tripped the guy with one then put up another to bounce him back then caught him, I just got to watch The Force use his power! Oh, I feel so privileged. C2's impressed too, I can tell.

"You guys again?" the boy says. He looks around my age, small and skinny, shifty eyes but with a nice kind of oval shape to them, wearing a dark grey hoodie and black jeans and with a slim backpack over his shoulder.

"Us guys again," Motoplasm says. "Now how'd I know you'd come running this way, Shade? How'd I know you were mixed up in this mess?"

"It ain't like that! Moto, man, you gotta believe me, it ain't LIKE that, not this time, I ain't even near this one!"

"So what's in the bag?" Motoplasm asks.

"Nothing! Look, I—okay," Shade says, as Motoplasm grabs the backpack, "so maybe some stuff happened, maybe I saw some kind of, I dunno, opportunity—"

Motoplasm just pulled out a wad of dirty money from the pack. He holds it up in front of Shade's face.

"'Opportunity'?"

"You see that money, you see it's street! It's not like I'm stealing from some civilian—"

"Child, you best stop talking like—"

Motoplasm looks up as a gunshot sounds out. It's followed by two more. They're close.

"That coming from the old mall?" Motoplasm asks, as further gunshots sound. Shade nods. "Food court?" Shade nods again. "All right, Charlotte, C2, looks like you get to help out after all. You keep Shade here—"

"No," I say. "No, there's shooting going on, you're going to go stop it, right? Right?"

"Man, this ain't even your problem!" Shade says. Another gunshot. "Let's all just get back to the shop, nice and safe—"

"Kids are shooting at each other," The Force says, as more gunshots sound out. "That's everyone's problem."

I know it's corny but I feel so warm and happy hearing that. HEROES. They're still around, maybe the scale's different, maybe it's not like it was but they're still here, they still exist, THIS is what it's all about!

"Feel like I'm running daycare—Mal, you go on ahead, see what you can see, I'll keep these ones in line."

The Force releases Shade and heads off without a word. He can move really quickly for a big guy. Motoplasm looks around at us, then gestures us forward. I take the lead, C2 and Shade beside me, Motoplasm shepherding us from behind. The gunshots seem to have stopped now.

"Calm down, child. Everything's got a cost."

Motoplasm's talking to me?

"Calm down," he repeats, and I realise what he means; I can feel my own blood, flowing faster around my body. It's an unbelievably squicky sensation. Now I can feel it flowing even faster—

"Calm down," Motoplasm says a third time, and I realise he's helping me, he's controlling my blood, and even though it's for my benefit I can't help but feel a little sick.

"Yeah, I hate it too." Shade's talking to me, with the biggest stupidest kind of cutest grin on his face. "You're Charlotte? Cuuute. You too, C2, gotta spread the love, am I right? I see you hiding your face behind that long, long hair, why you doing that? You got pretty eyes, girl."

"Thank you."

"C2! Don't THANK him for hitting on you!"

"I'm just being me!" Shade says, with another big grin. Then he glances back at Motoplasm and disappears.

"Don't be trying that."

There's the flicker of an outline, then Shade's there again, walking along beside us, still grinning.

"You're a super!" I say—a glance at my Opal confirms it, the super detector reads 'five'. "Phase-shifting?"

Shade grins. "Shadow dancing."

I've never heard of that one. He demonstrates as C2 and I watch, making his hand flicker in and out of shadow. I hold up my own hand and concentrate, but the effect isn't strong. It's more like my hand is IN shadow than made FROM shadow.

"Cool," Shade says. "Power copying—how about you, C-to-the-2?"

C2 just shakes her head, maybe embarrassed.

"Psychic shielding," I say, for her. "It's not showy or flashy but when you need it, it's invaluable."

"Niiiiice."

We're in an open area now, like a courtyard with old shops around the edges, none of them in use. The ground is concrete, weeds growing from cracks, and across there's a big domed building, the walls covered in graffiti. The sky above is darkening yellow, but it's still light enough to see where part of the dome has collapsed. I gasp in recognition.

"Distraxion! This is where the First Rangers took him out? That's the hole? The ACTUAL hole?"

"Long time ago now," Motoplasm says. He moves past us—I see where he's looking, at a wide archway leading into the building. The Force is there, even though he's huge I didn't spot him at first. "City never bothered rebuilding, just spread itself out around the damage."

We're close to The Force now. He glances back at Motoplasm, who holds out his arm to stop me from walking forward.

"You can stay back here. They stopped shooting, but it ain't because they're out of bullets. I don't care what kind of powers you've got, I'm not risking Silhouette's daughter."

"But what if YOU get in trouble? I could—"

"Child, please."

"But maybe I—"

"You can stay with Charlotte and her friend here," Motoplasm says. He's not even talking to me now, he's talking to Shade. "And I'll have words for you later, boy."

Shade makes an unhappy noise, but he goes over to the wall and leans against it. "Whatever."

"Not there. Away from the entrance. Keep yourselves quiet. We'll be back soon enough."

I wait until Motoplasm and The Force walk in through the archway, then I wave back at C2 in a 'don't worry, I can handle this, just go be safe' kind of way and follow behind them, phasing-out to almost invisible.

The archway passage leads to a wide circular area with old tables and chairs and food shops around the edges, going down in wide 'steps' to a smaller circle below, with a big ruined fountain in the middle—Motoplasm said this part of the city wasn't rebuilt after the big fight between Distraxion and the First Rangers, so that means it's been abandoned for over twenty years. It really looks like it, too! There are weeds everywhere and all the signs are faded so much I can't even read them, and the yellow concrete's all cracked and crumbling, and then there's the big hole in the roof. I can even see where Distraxion went crashing through the steps, he was in his armour so he survived the impact but the furrow it left is amazing. Then he got up again, of course, and he almost killed Lady Grey just there and then Burlesque...

There's a boy lying near the fountain, in a pool of blood. He's been shot in the arm. I think he's unconscious. Motoplasm and The Force have spotted him too. Around the edges of the food court there are tables and chairs piled up to form rough cover, gangers crouched behind. Nobody's shooting, but they're calling out to each other, I can't even understand what they're saying but it sounds very aggressive. Motoplasm and The Force are talking too, but they stop as I walk forward to eavesdrop. Together, they head for the wounded boy.

"This don't gotta go hard!" Motoplasm calls, his voice clear and calm. This attracts alarmed shouts and someone fires their gun, fortunately it doesn't hit anyone. "You've got a boy there bleeding out, he ain't gonna be 'round much longer if he ain't seen to, you gonna shoot me while I do what I gotta do?"

I move further forward and crouch behind an overturned table, and let my phase-shifting go. I've only got a few minutes of it left anyway. Instead I concentrate on creating a force field—this time the spiky purple energy comes easily, but it's just a big ball in front of me. I try to flatten it out into something useful as I watch Motoplasm crouch beside the boy—who's not bleeding any more.

"Gotta tell you," Motoplasm calls as he examines the wound, "I'm real upset with whichever one of you little fools put a slug in this boy. Real upset. Could be this is a fine time to start running. Fine time."

Motoplasm glances up at The Force, who ... does something, I'm not sure what, I felt it happen but I don't know what he did. My force field isn't much better than when I started, still rough and raw and spiky, but it's flatter now and a little wider, more like a shield than a ball. Motoplasm's doing something too, he's got his hands on the boy's arm—the bullet. He's getting the bullet out. Using the boy's blood? No, how could that work? Motoplasm can harden blood, but not like that. Wait ... The Force? He—yes, of course, he used a force field, a tiny little thin force field inside the boy's arm, behind the bullet, pushing it out! And now Motoplasm's got a knife, he's cutting his own hand—

"Don't you save him! Don't you SAVE him!"

One of the gangers is out of cover, he's walking towards The Force and Motoplasm. He's wearing a bright red bandanna and a big bulky jacket and big bulky trousers and he's got a gun, it's shaking in his hand but it's pointed straight at Motoplasm—who doesn't react at all. He's holding his hand close to the boy's arm, where he was shot—live blood transfusion! He's giving his own blood to the boy. Wow. The Force is staring down the ganger, but he hasn't put a force field up yet, why hasn't he put a force field up? If the ganger shoots—

"You get up away from him or I'm putting two in that shiny-ass head, old man! I ain't lying!"

Motoplasm takes his hand away from the boy's arm—neither of them are bleeding now—and rises smoothly, drawing himself up to his full height, not a speck of blood on him, his coat flowing elegantly around. The Force stands staunch beside him as Motoplasm turns to lay deeply cold eyes upon the ganger.

"Old?"

The ganger's friends are coming out now, slowly rising from behind cover, all of them wearing something red, all of them with guns. There are some appearing on the other side, too, wearing purple. There are less of them and not all of them have guns.

The first ganger—the leader, maybe?—is glancing around. He licks his lips before taking a step and thrusting his gun forward.

"Hell yeah, old! You some old-ass punk bitch, you think I won't pull this trigger? You ask anyone, I'm crazy, I'm fierce! Ask anyone!"

Motoplasm hasn't moved.

"You the one done shot this boy?"

"Hell yeah I am, hell YEAH I shot him, he ain't got my money! He's gonna come up in here without my cash, hell no, HELL no, that's some cold disrespect, that gotta be DEALT to."

He's getting worked up, his friends are too, and The Force still hasn't put up a shield, why not? He's fast but he's not faster than a bullet! The shield I've made isn't perfect but I could maybe move it, but it's so obvious, not like The Force's shields, you can barely see them, mine's all purple and weird—

"Let me ask you something," Motoplasm says, still with that same calm in his voice, still with that same control. "What do you want?"

"Hell no you don't ask me that! HELL no—"

"Because what I want," Motoplasm says, talking over the ganger, "is to walk out of here and get on with my damned life. So why don't you put that ugly gun away, child, before I see cause to raise my voice."

"Man ... man, shut UP!"

I gasp as he pulls the trigger, I try to send my force field in front of Motoplasm but I barely get control of it before there's a flash and a sharp snap, and Motoplasm hasn't moved, neither has The Force, and the ganger's looking at his gun ... then he snarls and pulls the trigger again, but the same thing happens, just a flash and a snap, and then a hard flat slap as Motoplasm brings his hand against the ganger's face, knocking him to the ground. He kicks and squirms and tries to get up but Motoplasm's too fast, he's got his arm hard against the ganger's throat and he's talking:

"Now you just tried to shoot me and my man back there, which don't put me in a particularly favourable frame of mind about you."

The ganger's staring up at Motoplasm. His friends aren't sure what to do—one of them fires his gun but the same thing happens, flash and snap, and finally, FINALLY I realise and I'm so disappointed in myself that I didn't get it sooner; The Force doesn't do flashy, showy, brute strength stuff. He does finesse. Because you don't need a big force field in front of yourself to stop a bullet, all you need is a tiny little field between the gun's hammer and the bullet's primer.

"You ain't from this neighbourhood, are you?" Motoplasm is still talking. The ganger's listening now, too. "Nah, you're from away eastways, eastside boy, flying proud red, so you take my suggestion and you head on back home, and you think real long and hard before you come near this part of town. Understand me? Because if you're stupid enough to try for a 'next time' I ain't gonna play so nice with you. Damn, boy, the things I could do, if I weren't being watched by young, innocent eyes. The things I could do to mess you up."

Then Motoplasm's off the ganger, the gun held distastefully by the barrel.

"Go on and get," he says, turning to walk back towards the injured boy. "I'm tired of your faces."

The ganger glances around at his friends, then he launches himself at Motoplasm's back.

And stops dead, crashes to his knees, clutching at his chest and gasping in panicked pain.

Motoplasm shakes his head sorrowfully, then half-turns to look back at the ganger.

"Sad day, child. Sad day when a young man ain't got sense enough to know when he's beat. Look around you, boy. What do you see? Some old punked out mall, ain't seen happy times since before you was born? I grew up here. Sat over there sipping at raspberry soda and smiling at the pretty young things going by. Used to be a fountain, way back, used to be a lot here that ain't no more. History not to be repeated. You're a long way from home, child. Long way from home. Me, I'm standing in my house. That makes you a trespasser. Gives me the right to do whatever the hell I want. I could show you how weak you really are. How powerless. How small."

I breathe out. I didn't realise I was holding my breath. Nobody's moving, the ganger's still on his knees, still breathing hard.

Motoplasm glances back at The Force, at his stern expression, and he sighs.

"But it turns out you're lucky," he says. "Because I ain't that kind. Not no more. Run on home, child. Take your friends with you. And you just remember, Baker Boys ain't welcoming to no trespassers. We got enough troubles already, without outsiders sticking their noses in where they ain't wanted."

The red gang start to leave. My phase-shifting's gone, but I use Shade's power to blend in with the shadow of the table, the light's getting low and none of them notice me—but I hear one talking:

"This ain't worth it, damn superheroes all protectin' and that, no one said NOTHING 'bout crazy-ass old guys with crazy-ass powers doing crazy-ass nonsense, don't care what no one says, that ain't proper—"

Then they're gone. The purple gang are still there, grinning and pushing each other, one of them goes up to Motoplasm—

"Hey man, nice work—"

He's cut off by Motoplasm smacking him in the head.

"What the hell were you thinking, child? Dealing with those crazy thugs? You gotta have more sense than that! You, I know you, you brought in your young sister last month, what are you thinking? You got folks relying on you, boy! All of you get your friend here on over to Broadstreet—I don't care what kind of trouble you get into, you get this boy there and you get him fixed up proper. Yeah, you can move him, just get him there quick."

The purple gangers are all shuffling around now, some of them picking up their wounded friend—still unconscious. One of them sidles up to Motoplasm, who's fetching a couple of bags from the ruined fountain.

"Uh," the ganger says. "Uh, yeah, so that's our stuff and our money—"

"Money? 'Stuff'?" Motoplasm smiles at the ganger. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Like the red gangers before them the purple gangers flee, carrying their wounded friend with them. Motoplasm watches them go, then he draws in a deep breath, holds it, and lets it out long and weary. He's staring at the blood on the ground. The Force puts his hand on Motoplasm's shoulder, and Motoplasm reaches up to cover it with his own. Then he speaks:

"You can come down, Little Miss Not-As-Subtle-As-She-Thinks-She-Is."

Does he mean me?

"Yes, I mean you, Miss Powers. And Shade? Get your ass down here and count yourself DAMN lucky you didn't get no one killed tonight."

I see Shade pop his head up from the other side of the food court, C2 following his lead. They must have gone around and come in from the other side, I didn't even notice them. Motoplasm hands the two bags he retrieved from the fountain to The Force, then looks around at all of us, his eyes settling on Shade.

"Gonna be words later, you can count on that," he says. "Right now, though, I'm hungry as hell."

He grins, suddenly and sharply, and spreads his arms like a showman.

"Who waaaaaants pizza?"