Patreon LogoYour support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)

Thundercrash (w/DeviousFish)

Morathor

Morathor

Supernova
Joined
Feb 19, 2012
Location
Midwestern USA
"...and so I thought, why not make him a cake?"

The reporter turned away from the little boy she was kneeling next to, flashing the camera her brightest smile. She didn't seem to notice that one of the blurred figures in the background was drawing closer to the screen. "Well, isn't that sweet. This is Katie from Channel 6 News--"

She stopped mid-sentence, although it wasn't immediately clear why. Only when she began to contort and clutch at her throat could one see that a shining silver collar had materialized around her neck. The little boy seemed confused at first, then scared. He opened his mouth to scream, but before he could let anything out a matching silver ring appeared around his neck.

At this point the figure in the background was coming into focus, though his pale blue eyes were fixed on a point beyond the camera. "No no, keep filming," he said in a low, silky tenor. The man was tall and slender, though the skintight bodysuit he wore revealed an athletic physique with clearly defined muscles. The bodysuit was mostly black, save for silver trim around the hands, feet, waist, and some sort of symbol on the chest. A black domino mask broke up the outline of his deeply tanned face, though one could tell he had a narrow chin, a rounded jaw and full lips. Pale gray bangs hung over his forehead, and a waist-length braid flicked back and forth as he walked.

He squatted down next to the reporter and the child as if joining in on their conversation, now looking straight into the camera with a calm smile. "I just want a few minutes of your time; I thought introductions were in order. You can call me Silver Soul. I'm from Walker City, which you probably don't know. But I bet you know one of our finest citizens--Larksong, who as I understand came to Faire City last year in pursuit of a fugitive." His voice remained very calm and pleasant through all this, and if it weren't for the woman and child slowly choking to death on either side of him, you might have thought he was a pretty nice guy.

Then, as he continued, the corner of his mouth began to twist into the slightest grin, while his eyes seemed to light up. "Well, Walker City was getting pretty boring after I defeated miss Larksong, but she spoke so highly of your local hero, oh, what was her name? Sparkler... yes... so, I thought I'd take a vacation and see what fine delights Faire City has to offer. And I have a personal message for miss Sparkler." He stood up and leaned towards the camera. The gentle tone he had been using up to this point vanished, replaced with a menacing growl as he let his mouth break out into a cruel grin.

"You're going to end up just like Larksong." Silver Soul broke into a high-pitched laugh, almost a giggle, before a flash of silver light filled the camera's view and the feed went dead.

~~~​

It had been several days since the video hit the air. It was online before the police even reached the scene, and it had gotten a million hits before the day was out. The reporter had asphyxiated, and the cameraman had been neatly bisected. The boy had been found alive, conscious, and spattered with blood. He hadn't spoken a word yet.
 
The high pitched laugh filled her ears again, and Dawn Marshall disgustedly threw her headphones down. It had been several days since the video had gone viral and she had lost count of the number of times she'd watched it, searching for some shred of evidence that had been overlooked. But there was nothing. It was as if, after murdering those two innocent people, he had simply evaporated into thin air. For someone who had just issued what seemed to her a very clear challenge, this Silver Soul didn't seem to want to be found.

Then again, Dawn's detective skills were only fair at best. Her strength had always been in physical battles, blasting Faire City's criminal scum as Sparkler, not hiding behind a desk combing through videos and paperwork. Still, it wasn't as if she didn't try. As her alter ego, she had interviewed everyone at the crime scene, including visiting the poor traumatized boy at the hospital, talked to police, and made phone call after phone call. Nothing. She had even attempted to contact Larksong, a pointless venture. The poor girl was most likely long dead. She hadn't known the hero very well, but she deserved justice. Justice that Dawn would gladly deliver if only she could find the culprit! It was frustrating.

There was one lead she had yet to investigate herself, however. In the video, he had stated where he was from. Since then, the police had been tracking any suspicious shipments from to and from Walker City. One in particular caught their attention that had been delivered to a storage facility downtown not far from the scene of the crime. The police had checked it out, but it had been emptied by the time they arrived. There probably wasn't much to find now, but sitting around doing nothing was driving her crazy.

"I've got to get out of here," she declared, pushing herself roughly away from her office desk. "I'm leaving"

Her co-worker in the registrar's office, a stout middle aged woman with a sweet face and an up-do, turned away from her computer and gave her a stern look. "But it's barely three o'clock. You're going to get it."

Dawn shrugged apologetically. She had bigger things to worry about. "I've got all my work done and we close the phones in an hour anyway. It's fine."

The woman shook her head and resumed typing. It was a regular habit of Dawn's to leave early and arrive late, but she somehow managed to skirt the pink slip every time. Everyone in the office assumed she was out having a good time, partying her life away. They had no clue of her real activities. Sweeping her papers into a neat pile, she gathered her belongings and rushed briskly out the door. There was one more stop before she left the office, though- the Lady's Room on the top floor.

Certain occasions permitted her to wear her costume beneath her clothes like certain heros, but mostly Dawn found it risky and impractical. The bathrooms in this wing of the building were all but abandoned, there was a skylight to escape through, and an old ventilation shaft to hide her things in. A convenient changing place overall. She slipped in unnoticed and swiftly locked the door.

Quickly, she stripped down to her bare skin, shivering in the chill of the room. Only seconds later, she had slipped long, crisp white gloves up her arms, shimmied into her sleeveless blue leotard with white starburst crest, and eased her blue boots up her thighs. A black belt was then slung loosely around her narrow waist and clasped with an "S" shaped lightning bolt, resting daintily on the curve of her softly rounded hips. Next, she grasped the back of her head and firmly yanked off her trim golden blonde wig and hair net, loosing long flowing tresses of ice blue hair. She glanced quickly in the mirror, brushing her bangs into shape and pulling her hair away from her face. It was a charming face, girlish in its soft round features and sweet bowed lips, but stern when held under the gaze of her fierce grey eyes. Finally, she concealed her identity with a glittering blue domino mask. In less than a minute Dawn Marshall had disappeared and Sparkler had arrived.

---

After flying across town, she lighted gently on the top of the storage supervisor's building, her boots clacking on the tin roof. He was startled to see her, but obligingly lead her to the unit in question and answered any and all questions she had. As suspected, the unit was empty, and the trip had been useless. Somewhat discouraged, she was just about to turn and fly away, when she spotted someone staring at her from beyond the chain link fence. That would normally not have meant anything, she was stared at often. But no sooner had they made eye contact, then he turned and bolted away.

"Hey!" she yelled, and took off after the man.
 
The man's eyes widened as he heard Sparkler call out to him. Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit not good. He ran, as fast as he could, until his legs hurt and his lungs burn. He made turns at random, forced his way through crowds, even bolted through traffic. Finally he ducked into an alley and leaned against a wall, panting. He fought the urge to look around the corner--if he was still being pursued, that would just give him away. Please don't have followed me, please don't have followed me, please don't have followed me...
 
"Hello there," greeted a lilting voice from behind the man.

As soon as the man had taken off, Sparkler had taken to the skies. He was swift footed and no fool either. If she'd been an ordinary person, it would have been almost impossible to catch him. As it was, she'd nearly lost him in the crush of the crowd. Just as she was about to give up, she saw him separate from the cluster of people and duck around a corner. She had not only been able to catch up with him, but was able to quietly set herself down beside him.

"That was fun," she said, smirking. "But that's enough tag for today."

She stretched out an arm and grabbed for his shirt collar.
 
"Aaagh!" The man tried to back away, but he out of breath, surprised, and a little scared, and so not as coordinated as he might have been. Sparkler was easily able to take a hold of his collar. "H-hey, Sparkler, um, ma'am. It's a nice day, isn't it? For tag, I mean?" Idiot! Why would you say that? If you're going to act nonchalant, do it before you run! It's too late now! Shit!
 
"Hmm... tag, yes." she chuckled, seeming to play along. "You like games, huh? I like them too."

Gripping his shirt collar tightly, she shoved him roughly up against the alley wall. Slowly, she lifted him up until his feet were dangling several inches off the ground.

"Lets play a little game. Its called, 'I ask you questions and you answer them honestly'," she said smiling. "Play well enough and I just might get distracted. Maybe enough to forget about little, unimportant things like... trespassing and parole violations and such. I might even let you go."

Sparkler wasn't sure if she had caught this guy before. His face was vaguely familiar- but the crooks all sort of blurred together after a while. Those two guesses were as good as any. Hopefully, it served to make him nervous enough to give straight answers. Either way, she didn't give him much time to object. Her smiling expression turned stern and she pushed him more firmly into the wall.

"So, lets begin. What can you tell me about the storage unit I was looking at? Do you know who rented it? Or where its contents were sent?"
 
The man squeaked timidly as she lifted him up. "I-I can't tell you that! I got customer confidentiality thing..." He squirmed a little, and when it was clear he wasn't coming down, his shoulders drooped a bit. "I ain't done anything wrong. Well, okay, maybe I have--but not since I got out of prison!" This last bit was rushed, as it occurred to him that Sparkler might not like that answer. "I just moved some crates. I'm a delivery guy now, it's what I do, I move packages. I don't ask what's in 'em, I don't need that kind of trouble."
 
"I understand. You've changed your ways! Just trying to make a living?" She smiled and nodded sympathetically. "Delivery is an honest business, I suppose..."

Her voice was soft and understanding. Overall, she was pleased. This guy might be about to give her the first real lead she'd had. It seemed he would crack with only a little more encouragement. As she spoke, she continued to gently drag him further up the wall. In a moment, he would have been moved several feet higher. In fact, she wasn't even standing on the ground herself anymore.

"And of course it's none of your business what's in the package, I guess. But...I wonder... what if the contents was involved in a murder? A murder of a beloved public figure? Wouldn't THAT be trouble? Wouldn't that make you...ah...what's the word...hmm..." she paused and looked down, pretending she didn't know. "Ah! Accessory. That's the word."

Staring hard at him, she let that thought sink in. She didn't know the law all that well, but she figured it wasn't much of an stretch.

"That would be awfully hard for me to ignore. Now, where did you deliver those crates? Remember, you don't want to lose the game."
 
The man began to panic. "Hey, no, no! No murder! I don't do that kind of thing! I mean, I didn't, not even when I was a crook. Look... you can't tell anyone I told you. It'll ruin my business. Plus, if this guy really is a murderer, he might come after me. Get it? I might be able to let this slip, just, on the down low. Okay? Please put me down. I like my feet on the ground."
 
Dawn smiled. He had reacted exactly the way she had hoped.

"Alright. We can do this ground level."

Slowly, she lowered him to the alleyway floor. She was a compassionate hero after all. No need to further traumatize him if he was willing to cooperate. These people were just like children, she felt. They needed firm, yet gentle guidance. And the occasional smackdown. Only when necessary, of course.

"I won't tell a soul," she said, chuckling at her private joke. "If your information is solid, I'll leave you completely alone. No one knows it was you."

Letting his shirt go, she took a slight step back, giving him room to breathe. She still stood imposing, with her hands on her hips, blocking any escape.

"Now, tell me what you know."
 
"Okay, look. I moved all that crap to this office building on the East Side. Totally deserted, plus a bunch of the walls were knocked out. Some guy in a janitor's uniform and a baseball cap met us there, paid cash. I asked him where he wanted the stuff but he just said wherever, as long as we got it through the door he'd take care of the rest."

The man put up his hands, preemptively warding off the next threat to his wellbeing. "I didn't see his face or nothin. Like I said, he wore a cap and he kept his head down. He didn't talk much, so I wasn't sure it was the guy. You know, from the TV? If I had been sure it was the same voice, I would have reported him to the cops, I swear." That was a blatant lie, of course, but in case Sparkler decided not to be as forgiving as she was saying, he could at least stick to that story when it came time to talk to the cops.
 
As he told his story, she listened intently, her stare not wavering from his face. She believed him, though her expression remained skeptical. He was just a low level criminal. Not that she condoned that. The apathy and cowardice of people like him were what allowed the truly cruel and wicked to thrive. But he seemed to be cooperating, so he was on her nice list for now.

"Are sure that's all you remember?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "A face or a-"

He cut her off, explaining he knew nothing else. She believed he'd been ignorant to the identity of his customer, but snorted when he said he would have called the police. That would have compromised his business and probably his life. More likely, he would have gotten the hell out of dodge if he had realized JUST who he'd been dealing with. Still, she understood the sentiment. Somewhere in the murky waters of his moral code, perhaps he did not condone the actions of the villain, and they were on the same side this time? He seemed to have proven useful, and she was a woman of her word, so she'd let him go. It was unlikely he remembered the exact address after all this time, so she wouldn't press him for it. He'd narrowed down the search significantly enough that she was sure the exact building would be easy to find. She reached a hand forward as if to grab him, but instead patted his shoulder approvingly.

"There now. That wasn't so hard, was it?" she said beaming pleasantly at him. "You did a good deed today and played our little game well. You should feel proud."

She smirked a little at her own words and took a couple steps back, preparing to leave. On the second step, her feet left the ground and she hovered in front of him a minute.

"I'll leave you today as agreed. Keep your nose clean and maybe you won't have to see me again. But..." She leaned forward and stared at him in as intimidating face as she could muster. "...if anything told you me turns out to be false or intentionally misleading... be expecting to have another one of these conversations, very soon."

And with that, she turn to fly off in search of said office building.
 
Although her informant had narrowed the search down considerably, the East Side was still fairly large, and there were a surprising number of abandoned office buildings. By the time she found the one with most of its walls missing, the sun was low in the sky. The front door was hanging open, and the entire first floor could be surveyed with a quick glance, since only a handful of support pillars obscured her view. There was nothing there, or at least, nothing out of the ordinary. The floor was covered in rubble and dust, and there were wires hanging here and there.

Looking at the upper floors through the windows, they seemed just as desolate, though they still had their walls, at least. But at first glance, there didn't seem to be anything going on here at all.
 
By the time she found the building, she had come to regret not insisting on better details - a streetname, a landmark, something to identify it. But she had been eager and hasty and had paid for it with endless circling of the streets and alleyways. After talking to several people in the area, and following a couple of false leads, she found the only building it could possibly be. A mail carrier had confirmed the presence of a man in a janitor's uniform coming and going, but could give her no more information than that.

Sparkler now sat, perched on the roof of the opposite building, staring at the door left carelessly open. Between her hands, she idly tossed a tiny bolt of electricity, her trademark spark, back and forth as she contemplated her best course of action. It looked quite empty, with its ambitious renovations left abandoned and half finished. Somehow, it didn't seem like the sort of place the silver man would crouch in, anyway. But then, what had she been expecting? A giant neon sign saying "Evil Secret Hideout Here"? No. Either this entire thing was a dead end, and had been a profound waste or time from the start, or it was a trap. Whatever the case, she couldn't see any other alternative except to go down and investigate. What was the worst that could happen? It was clearly vacant, so if she barged in uninvited she wouldn't be disturbing anyone. She had already circled the entire building, looking in the windows for any sign of life. There hadn't even been any security cameras as far as she could see. If, by some chance, it was a trap...? Well, she highly doubted there was anything awaiting her she couldn't punch, kick, or electrocute into submission.

Her decision made, she chanced a quick glance at the sky. It was late, but if she hurried, she could get back home in time to have a decent supper. She hadn't had lunch and it was starting to nag at her. Patrol would be skipped tonight, she felt she'd earned a break after all the tedious sleuthing. As she landed in front of the doorway, the streetlamps hummed and flickered on, signaling the setting of the sun. She approached the doorway with confidence. As she gazed into the dusty structure in the fading light, she felt sure this mustn't be it. It was just an office complex, like so many others on this street. Ignoring any caution, she stepped inside the door.

"Knock knock," she murmured quietly as she entered.

Only the grey light of dusk filtered through the windows, casting deep shadows in the empty room. It was all but impossible to see. Switching on a light would be far to conspicuous, but she searched briefly anyway. All she found was exposed wires where the switches had been. It was no good investigating if she couldn't even see where she was walking. Holding up her hand, she channeled a small amount of her electrical power into it her arm. Tiny arcs formed between her thumb and fingers, creating a soft glow. As she concentrated, pushing more power into it, they stabilized and grew brighter. Soon the area around her was illuminated with a soft, flickering violet light. It wasn't as good as daylight, but she could make out the details of her surroundings.
 
As she created more light, it became clear that something had been going on here--the dusty floor was littered with footprints. They didn't create an organized, easy-to-follow trail, but they did establish some basic patterns. There were large square impressions on the floor, with lines that looked like the slatted bottoms of wooden boxes. They were surrounded by footprints and narrow wheel tracks, probably from a dolly. But there were no other signs that the boxes had been moved from those spots--no dolly tracks or scrape marks that led deeper into the building.

There were, however, footprints clearly left by a very different style of shoe. While the footprints near the door were the treaded prints of a workboot, the second set was much neater, each print a single solid impression. Those prints went much deeper into the building. They occasionally led up the stairs, carrying dust with them. But on a thorough inspection, there was one spot where the prints were... off. While it was hard to pick out individual trails with footprints everywhere, overlapping each other and crossing over each other, there was one area where many of the tracks seemed to converge, then vanish.
 
Examining the room, Sparkler didn't think much of the footprints at first. The door was wide open, anyone could have been in here. Likely there had been workmen in here. Building inspectors, electricians, construction crew... she could spend all day sorting through the prints and it would mean nothing. There was something a bit off, though. Clearly, boxes had been delivered here, confirming her source's story. But where were they now? She proceeded further in, holding her light high to catch anything interesting. Nothing out of the ordinary caught her eye, in fact she was about to continue on to explore the upper floors and possibly the roof, when she finally noticed by chance, a peculiar cluster of prints. She had ignored them her first pass and couldn't figure out what bothered her about them. Then she tried to follow them. She picked her feet up off the floor, and followed each step hovering above the ground. They didn't go anywhere or turn around. They just stopped.

"What on earth...?" she muttered, both curious and confused.

She set her feet back down on the ground and leaned over, examining the floor. Then she looked up raising her hand for more light and squinting into the darkness. Was there a lift of some kind that she hadn't seen? Or a trap door? Those could be the only explanations, right?
 
A very thorough examination did show the slightest crease in the floor. Following the crease, it outlined a rectangle about four feet by five. Lift or trap door, this part of the floor was definitely designed to be separated from the rest. However, there seemed to be no obvious way to operate it--there was no handle, nowhere to grip it, and the crease was too narrow to fit any sort of crowbar in. Nobody could have gotten through it, or at least, nobody normal.
 
If she had any doubts that this was the place she needed to be searching, they vanished when she saw the creases in the floor. This surely hid some secret! Pacing back and forth several times, she looked carefully for some way to move or lift the suspicious panel of flooring. She felt along the walls and even tapped on it with her foot. Crouching down, she tried to pry it up with her fingers, but it was completely flush with the rest of the floor. All the super strength in the world doesn't do a bit of good if you can't get a grip. Stepping back for a moment, she chewed her lip and considered her options.

Property damage. The dirty little words of the superhero business. Sparkler had certainly been the culprit of quite a bit of careless destruction. In the early days of her career, when she didn't quite have a good grasp on her powers, she'd knocked down more than few walls and compromised the structure of several buildings in her fights for justice. The cityfolk appreciated her service, but only to the extent that she didn't bankrupt their pocketbooks. Now that she had matured a bit, she tried to avoid wanton destruction whenever possible. But in certain situations -like now- it seemed that a little demolition was in order.

There was no other way about it, she decided. She was going to have to make some modifications to this little piece of the floorplan. If there were no grips provided for her, she was just going to have create one. This was going to ruin any plans of sneaking around, though. There just wasn't any way she could do this without making a bit noise.

"One for the money, two for the show..."

Balling up her fist, she reared back and brought it down on the panel with all her might. She didn't know quite what lay beneath the surface, but she hoped it wasn't anything too stubborn... or else this was going to hurt. Once, while foiling a bank robbery, she had been forced to assault the vault door. Her punch had left a deep mark in the steel, but she'd broken her hand and it had throbbed for quite a while before her abilities were able to knit her up. Still, whatever it was, she was pretty sure she'd make a good enough dent in it to break through.
 
The slab of concrete shattered under her fist, scattering rubble over a wide metal staircase leading down into the darkness. At the edges of the opening were small grooves, which might have housed some mechanism for opening the thing, but there didn't seem to be anything in them.

Slightly cool air ran up from the opening, and while the temperature underground was pretty constant, it would have been a little bit warmer than that. From where she was standing, she could just see the end of the staircase and a bit of the floor below, but there were no signs of anyone or anything down there. Then again, without any light other than her own glowing hand, she couldn't see very much beyond the staircase.
 
As the concrete crumbled beneath her blow, she jumped back quickly to examine her work. She held her hand forward, further illuminating the staircase and passageway beneath.

"If that doesn't look like a secret evil hideout, I don't know what does," she said, chuckling quietly to herself.

There wasn't much point in sneaking around now. If anybody was home, they would have heard crash of the slab being broken to bits. Her best course of action now, she guessed, was to rush in as fast as she could. It seemed pretty dark and desolate down below, but if it was occupied, whoever was there might try to flee. No one goes to this kind of trouble to make a hideout without installing some kind of back door to escape.

"Ready or not, here I come," she murmured.

Without a further moment of hesitation, she zipped down the passageway, not bothering to use the stairs.
 
As she went deeper in, her light fell on a pillar with a rather familiar sign on it. This wasn't a basement--it was a subway station, though presumably as abandoned as the building above it. There was also a great deal of equipment scattered about the platform, including a desk with nine gigantic computer monitors mounted above it, forming one gigantic screen. Aside from that, the devices weren't anything Sparkler had seen before. The place was obviously lived in, but there was no sign of another person there. That is, until a bright light shone from behind her, a softer, more silvery light than her own electrical charge. "You know, I have never wanted an apple so much in my life," said the familiar voice.

Silver Soul was standing on the other side of the staircase, tossing a glowing silver ball up and down in his hand. A closer inspection would show that it was a slightly oversized apple. He looked up at Sparkler with a pleasant grin. "Wouldn't that be amusing? You come storming into my home and I'm nonchalantly munching on an apple? Oh well. Even I can't think of everything. I'm not perfect. But you are, aren't you miss Sparkler?" He took a moment to appreciate the sight of her in her tight blue leotard and smiled before dramatically biting down on the silver apple.
 
It took her a moment to realize what she was looking at. In the dim light, she squinted her eyes and slowly recognized the sign. A subway station! Imagine that. She'd heard there were some that had been closed down and abandoned, relics from the city's early industrial years. There were many of them, she'd been told, but had never really given them much thought. As she glanced around the room, she noticed the collection of massive screens and strange devices she couldn't name, and wondered where the owner was.

There was no need to wonder long. When the light fell on her from behind and heard him speak, she whirled around quickly. It was certainly him, just as he had appeared in the video. Then again, she had known it was him the moment his voice fell on her ears. Though she'd never spoken with him directly, through the video she felt she had.

"Amusing? I wouldn't know. You're the one with the flair for theatrics," she sniffed and narrowed her eyes, recalling his murderous broadcast. "I see you made do, though."

She eyed the silver apple as he bit into it. Was it made of the same material he had used to strangle the reporter? It must be. Was it some kind of metal, some kind of silver as his name suggested? The glow seemed to indicate something else, but she wasn't sure what. It wasn't like she was too worried about it. There had yet to be a material -metal or otherwise- that she couldn't break, bend, or worry into submission.

"Perfect, Mr. Soul? Me?" she chirped, batting her eyes in false flattery. Was that sarcasm in his voice, she wondered, or something else? She had certainly felt his eyes on her body, but that wasn't unusual. One doesn't wear shiny, clinging garments without getting a few stares.

"Well, I do try," she said, tilting her head coyly. "Perhaps more than some, anyway."

Her tone was light, belying her serious mood. She was in the dragon's den, and she knew it. Not that she had any doubt about the outcome, but she knew there was going to be a battle soon. This flirting and chatter was just the calm before the storm. It didn't mean anything. As she spoke, she loosely held her hands apart and palm to palm, playing with the electricity in her fingers. It arced and stretched between her digits, sparking and jumping wildly on as she twisted her hands. It would appear she was just playing, like a child threading string for cat's cradle. Not completely untrue, but right now she was also building steam, waiting for the inevitable attack.
 
He tossed aside the apple, which vanished before it hit the floor. "On the contrary, you are perfect without even trying. And that, my dear Sparkler, is why you are going to suffer so." He held out his hand, and suddenly there was a silvery light much closer to home, as a silver hoop appeared around her neck. It started to tighten around her throat; from its texture, it clearly wasn't metal, or plastic, or any material Sparkler had ever encountered, and it tingled against her skin.
 
It wasn't as if she hadn't expected this. As the ring curled about her neck, she was completely calm. He'd practically told her his opening move in advance. In fact, she was a little disappointed. It would seem he was just a one-trick pony.

"Sorry, but I'm not really into jewelry," she said and tried to slip her fingers into the loop and yank it off. To her surprise and alarm, it did not budge. Its feel, its texture... was completely alien. "What the he-"

She didn't bother to finish her question. Soon, just like the anchor woman, she wouldn't be able to breath. Strangling wasn't something her body had tried to recover from, and she didn't want to see how that worked out. Silver Soul had to be put down, and fast. There was still a nasty charge of electricity in her arms and she launched it at him, hoping to break his concentration and possibly hold on the choker and knock him off his feet.
 
Sparkler's attack hit dead on; after all, who could dodge a lightning bolt? The choker vanished as the electricity coursed through him, and he staggered back. Although Silver Soul managed to stay on his feet, catching himself after a single step, smoke still rose from him, and a bit of the silver symbol on his chest was darkened where the cloth had burned.

"Oh now look what you've done," he said, voice as calm as ever. If the blast had hurt him, he wasn't letting it show. "Do you have any idea how expensive this suit is? I'll have to rob a bank or something just to replace it. Petty theft is so dull. Well, fair's fair." He held his hand up, and dozens of silver lights appeared in the air in front of him. After hanging there for a moment, they all flew towards Sparkler; as they drew closer, she could see that they were long thin spikes, almost like needles.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top Bottom