ic A Silver Medal Start (IC)

[Poncho]

This is just a little IC solo thread/story, only two posts, I've written about the first time Golden Star does some Superheroics. Nothing major, no mechanics, no other characters or anything, so there's no need for an OOC thread I think.

 

Black Friday, 2023, Midtown, Millennium Mall

 

The Mall was absolutely, ludicrously packed. There would be more space in a sardine can then there would be in the inside of the mall. Accompanying Michael’s mother, him and Kenny had had to amuse themselves while their mother spent most of the year’s surplus- the money saved by Thomas repairing the garage by himself, the money saved by Michael getting a free ride to Claremont, and the money quietly deposited into their account to make up for Michael’s hospital stay- on a variety of bright, shiny presents that Michael and Kenny were mostly here to carry when needed. She had shooed them aware a little after lunch, which likely meant she was shopping for them, and left the two without any real direction on what to do. Michael had already gotten most of his presents, but Stella liked the feeling of buying presents in person instead of over the internet, so it meant trips to the malls, the shops, and the stores. It wasn’t that much of a bother, but it was difficult to get some air when crammed onto the small walkways of the three story building. 

 

Currently the two were hanging over the balcony of the food court, legs dangling over a three story drop as they sat on the raised barrier, watching people scurry below them.

 

“You see her?” Michael asked.

 

“Hrmmm...no.” Kenny responded. Michael leaned over conspiratorially and pointed. It was a bit easier for him than his brother; ever since he got his powers, his senses seemed a little sharper. He unerringly identified his mother’s red curls as she walked into a toy store amidst a throng of 20 or 30 other parents. Kenny followed his finger and made a sound. “Oh! I see her. You’ve got good eyes!”

 

“Well that happens when you play a bunch of sports. If you put in the effort to train something you get better at it. I have to be able to pick out receivers in a crowd and track the puck on the ice, you know?” The little brother hmmed again and took a sip of his drink.

 

“How come you aren’t playing sports at your new school? They ain’t even got no sports teams, so why are you there?” He asked with the innocence of a child. Michael sighed and stretched.

 

“Come on, we’ve been over this. I can’t play sports anymore because I got hurt in my accident, remember?”

 

“You don’t look hurt.”

 

“It’s an inside hurt. The kind you can’t see but you always have to walk around with.”

 

“Like mom? She doesn’t act like it hurts but she always gets scared when there’s a supervillain on TV.” Michael frowned at his brother’s casual innocence to ask such biting questions.

 

“Yeah. A hurt like that. It means I can’t play anymore because I might get hurt, or something bad might happen. And the people at my new school are helping me, even if I might not ever get to play sports again. Like how Miss Cooper helped Mom; she still gets scared but she goes out and does despite it, right?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“So that’s how it is with me. I might not ever play professionally or anything, but I’ll eventually get to the point where I’m okay.” he said easily. “So anyway, what are you getting mom?” He directed the conversation away from his issues smoothly. Kenny wasn’t actually going to get a present, it was just going to be whatever their Dad got and put his name on it.

 

“Me and Dad are getting her a spa treatment. And we’re making little pots for flowers at school and I’m gonna give mine to her.”

 

“I bet she’d like that.” Kenny nodded along and they returned to silence for a while, watching people while the bustle of the mall came over them, until Michael’s phone rang and he pulled it out to check it. The number on it was for his boss, Sandra Sampson. Maybe wanting him to take another shift or something. He answered without much concern.

 

“Yes M’am.” The voice that responded was the same as always with Sandra; gruff, clipped, and expecting obedience. 

 

“Michael, you’re at the Millennium Mall.” That was not a question.

 

“That would be correct.” he keep his voice even and what he was responding with vague; Kenny was watching and he didn’t want to give him any kind of idea. Let the little brother think he was just discussing getting put on a new shift or something.

 

“There are a couple of low rent thugs who have stolen a car and some jewelry and are trying to evade police in the local area. I know you aren’t fully trained, but there shouldn’t be any problem with you stopping them. I’ve asked for you to get the first shot, and people are quite busy today for obvious reasons, so the ball is in your court.”

 

“Do you think I’m ready for that?”

 

“...” she was quiet. Which indicated she was doubtful. “I do not think there will be any harm in you trying.” which meant that there was someone who was going to be watching to make sure he didn’t mess up. 

 

“I get it. I’ll be there soon.” he said evenly. She hung up before he did and he put his phone back in his pocket.

 

“Kenny, I gotta go take care of something. Can you sit on that bench until I get back?”

 

“Are you buying me a present?”

 

“...Yeah. I’m gonna go get your present. So you need to go sit over there and wait. Here’s twenty bucks to get a snack.” He said as he turned and slid off the railing, then helped Kenny down. He deposited Kenny in a booth and wandered off, heading towards a maintenance corridor and then up towards the roof.

[Poncho]

It was the first time he put on his costume, and he wanted there to be some sort of reverence to it, but there wasn’t really any of that; he was standing on the roof of the mall, changing into it. But he tried to at least take a little effort to enjoy the feeling off the cloth between his fingers and the design of the costume, his ideas taken and produced by an official costume maker. A white bodysuit with a golden star on the chest, a red belt buckled to separate the white suit. Red Boots, and a cape that hung partially over his shoulders, attached to a metal clasp on his pectoral muscle. It felt good. He swished the cape experimentally a few times and then focused. He wasn’t exactly great at this part. But he kicked off the ground and didn’t fall, instead he shot into the air. He wasn’t very fast yet; apparently at his fastest he was only about as fast as a car on the highway- one that was following speed limits-, but he didn’t have to deal with traffic and he could fly over buildings. His first action was up. Above all the buildings, until he had an unobstructed view of all the surrounding areas and could spot the flashing red and blue lights. His next action was to go that way; cutting off the fleeing car at an angle- he wasn’t fast enough to catch up to a full speed car and that meant he needed to approach it awkwardly-. 

 

The Car was, at least, a fairly old beater, not a brand new sports car. It weaved through streets that were far too packed with people far too fast, leaving specks of paint and side mirrors knocked into the ground. As the car twisted in an intersection, trying to pull a hairpin turn to shift the other way, Michael sliced through the air and his fingers sunk into the back of the car before it could get away from him, his fingers sinking into steel as the car’s wheels squealed on pavement and kicked up smoke and steam, dragging Michael along slowly before he flexed his muscles harder, pulling the rear of the car up off the ground and depriving it of most of its power. He held the car up until someone swore and leaned out of the car. The gleam of steel flashed in his eye as he turned to look followed by the sound of a miniature explosion. He saw it in slow motion and raised his hand to protect his eye, turning the car slightly lopsided. The bullet didn’t pierce his hand, but it felt like a pinch or pressure, a needle poking into the palm of his hand. It hurt enough that he shook his hand and the bullet fell to the ground...then several more went into his arm and hand, each leaving a pinprick of pain as they bruised his skin under his costume before falling to the ground, otherwise harmless. But the shocks numbed his arm and he lost his grip, causing the car to bounce on the ground and the wheels to start to find traction. With a growl, he lashed out again, smashing his hands down on the trunk. The car went straight up, then fell backwards, and he caught it before it hit him or the ground, balancing it on the back wheels and bumper as he held it straight up. Then he slowly pushed it back down and it landed on all four wheels with a thud. The car didn’t move this time and he walked to the driver’s side door, opening it. The man at the wheel looked dazed.

 

“Uh, hello. Are you okay?” he asked as he unbuckled the man and helped him out of the car. He might have been a criminal who stole some jewelry, but Michael helped him stand up and then sit down on the pavement next to the car. “Here. Just sit here and wait. You might have banged your head, so it’s better to not move.” The shellshocked criminal didn’t even try to respond, just stared in confusion as Michael went to the passenger in the front seat and helped them out as well, unhooking the seat belt, helping them out of the car, walking them over to the other man and having him sit down. “There there, deep breaths. This is why you should wear your seatbelt, you know?” He said soothingly to the criminals as he went back into the car and retrieved the stolen jewels and put them on the hood of the car, then the gun that had been used to shoot him. At this point the cops had intervened to arrest the two larcenists, and Michael happily backed off rather than stand over them or get in their way, rubbing his sore arm as he did so. The first reporter on him was a blonde haired woman who pointed a microphone at his face.

 

“You’re new, right? What’s your name?” He smiled and waved to the camera without too much concern, keeping himself calm and not worrying over much; he had had to talk in mock debates before so this wasn’t that much of a strain to keep himself focused on this.

 

“I’m Golden Star, and yes, I’m new. I hope to be useful to everyone without getting too much in other’s ways as I learn the ropes.” he said pleasantly, resting his hands behind his back. “I hope to help those in need, so if you’re in need, I’ll try and help you.” he inclined his head a small amount and offered a bright smile. “But right now I have to get back to other occupations, so please excuse me. I promise I’ll have more time later.” he finished as he floated up into the air and flew off. 

 

His phone was ringing as soon as he got back to the mall, and he already knew who it was.

 

“Hello.” Sandra clearly sounded like she wanted to sigh.

 

“I thought you were bulletproof.”

 

“I...guess I’m not. I mean, I wasn’t sure.” he admitted with some level of confusion and uncertainty, he hadn’t exactly wanted people to shoot guns at him. “They didn’t really penetrate me. They just kind of...pinched. I have some bruises.”

 

“Maybe you need to toughen up a little still. You had some difficulties with the car, and catching up to them." A frank assessment of his capabilities was fair, but it did also make him a little frustrated at his own weaknesses; being watched over by someone who was very carefully monitoring him and expecting specific things from him who was also a stiff taskmaster meant that he had to constantly deal with her observations. “You need to keep working on your training.”

 

“Yes M’am.” he mumbled. “I’ll keep practicing. The school is helping a lot.”

 

“Then keep working on it, we’ll see where you end up. Over all, your first outing could be called a...mild success. So not too bad.”

 

“Yes Ma'am.” He said again as she hung up. He put his phone back in his pocket and sighed as he walked back to pick up Kenny, rubbing his arm where five purple bruises were visible. When he got back to his brother sitting and watching Catgirl Reacts on his phone, he slid into the booth and sighed again, resting his head on his hand and propping his elbow up on the table. 

 

“You look tired.” Kenny noted. “Did you get in a fight over my present?”

 

“Yeah, something like that.” Michael agreed. “But your present is all sorted, so don’t you worry about that.” he said with a grin as he looked at the screen.

 

“What’d you get me?”

 

“I’m not telling.”

 

“That’s not fair. You don’t like surprises so why do I have to deal with them?”

 

“It’s not like I know what I’m getting either, they just don’t have surprise parties for me.” he noted as he closed his eyes. “Now I’m gonna just rest my eyes, alright?”

 

In his mind, he mulled over if he had done something exceptionally wrong by leaving his brother like that. Arguably he had. He had abandoned his little brother in the middle of a crowded mall to handle something else. He had disrespected the trust his mother put in him, been a poor big brother besides. Was it even really arguable? He frowned to himself even though his eyes were closed, until his phone rang again. He didn’t look at who it was as he picked it up.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Michael, I can tell you’re struggling. Put your mind at ease. I would not have asked you to go do that if I did not have someone making sure your brother was safe. You can rely on the fact I will never make you choose between your duties as a hero and the safety of your family.” He thought about that deeply for a long time. He thought about how weird it was that she knew what he was thinking, thought about how those words were so specific. Thought about what that meant for him and his family. Then he nodded his head again.

 

“Yes, Ma’am. I understand. Thank you.” He said simply. “You are very generous.” Then she hung up, and he hung up after her. It made him feel a little better, but also a little concerned.

 

END