Chapter 24
by
micdan282
What's next?
A Night Out
The bar was dim, packed, and pulsing with music that vibrated deep in Rikki’s chest, the kind of rhythm you could lose yourself in. She didn’t usually go for scenes like this, but after days of hiding in her apartment and after her argument with Finn she'd given in to Laura's begging. She needed a distraction from life. And a drink. Now, under the strobing lights, drink in hand, Rikki was trying to pretend that her world wasn’t unraveling.
“So,” Laura shouted over the music, nudging Rikki with her shoulder. “You gonna smile at least once tonight or are you planning to sulk into your gin for the next two hours?”
Rikki snorted softly, tipping her drink back. “This is me smiling.”
Laura gave her a look that said you’re hopeless and turned toward the dance floor, already moving to the beat. She was magnetic, always had been, blonde, glowing, laughter like champagne bubbles. Within minutes, a trio of frat bros zeroed in, sunglasses indoors, teeth too white, and confidence turned up to eleven.
“Hey, ladies,” one of them grinned. “Mind if we join?”
Laura, unsurprisingly, lit up. “Sure, why not?” The frat bros ordered a round of shots for the group as they huddled up next to the ladies.
Rikki tried to ignore the boys and enjoy her drink but it didn’t take long before one of the guys, tall, broad, his collared shirt half-unbuttoned, stepped beside her with a smirk.
“You look like someone who could break hearts and noses.”
“Only if they deserve it,” Rikki said flatly, downing a shot. The guy chuckled, unfazed.
“I’m Lawrence.”
“Good for you.”
“You got a name?”
“I’ve got a boyfriend,” she said, looking him dead in the eye. Lawrence raised a brow.
“He here?”
“Nope.” Rikki ordered another shot.
“So technically, I’m not stepping on any toes.”
Rikki exhaled slowly. She didn’t need this. Not tonight. Not when her ribs still ached under her top, not when her heart was already cracked open from Finn’s words, from the guilt. “Not interested.”
But he didn’t move away. Instead, he leaned in, lowering his voice like he thought he was being charming. “C’mon, you don’t have to play tough. You came out to have fun, right? Let me help.”
Rikki gave him a look sharp enough to cut glass. “I don’t want fun from some cocky douchebag.”
Lawrence paused, almost like he was going to keep pushing, but then he laughed again and backed off slightly, holding his hands up.
“Alright, alright. Just saying, you’re kinda wasting the night glued to the bar.”
She rolled her eyes.
God give me strength.
What's next?
Perils of a Novice Superheroine
A generic superheroing setting drenched with sex and scandal
Acropolis City, the center of super-human and caped crusader activity in this particular world - with its own dizzying highs and lows, high-tech skylines and slums standing in stark, four-color contrast, it provided everything that a costumed megalomaniac or masked vigilante could ask for. In fact, as is usually the case where colorful masked characters are the norm, it has become something of an institution by this point. But although the mere existence of costumed heroes and villains no longer shocks people, these people - who, by their very nature, thrive on attention - keep finding new ways to stand out from the crowd and attract the eye. This last goal tends to get a lot of emphasis in the most simple, sexualized way possible. For reasons that the world's most brilliant scientists have yet to explain, latent super-abilities seem to manifest more often in women than men by a ratio of 3 to 1 or more. This is true even when the superpower isn't "natural"; paranormal artifacts fall into their hands, esoteric martial arts schools never seem to have a male heir, the technological prototypes they test always seem to be the ones that are most easily used or abused for good and evil. Unfortunately, the glory days of the past where citizens were happy to see any old masked do-gooder show up are over - in recent years, Acropolis City has established a ranking system of heroes where those who get high marks from the citizens and resolve incidents are rewarded with corporate sponsorships and (most coveted of all) seats at the prestigious League of Propriety. Those who intimidate the populace, cause excessive collateral damage, or simply don't excite anyone, garnering low rankings, get 'asked' to move to less prestigious cities. Few superheroes want to get stuck battling clans of villainous hillbillies and corrupt small-town sheriffs for the rest of their careers, so they're always eager to please the influential citizens of Acropolis City (judges, eminent scientists, first responders, and of course the all-important reporters). On the other side of the law, a similar dynamic predominates; only the most glamorous and charismatic costumed ne'er-do-wells can make it in this town. And so, the novice superheroines just learning the ways of battling for justice and order, without any team to back them up, always end up patrolling the skeeviest, most undesirable slums of the city and taking on the most thankless rescues. As if that weren't bad enough, most of them feel obliged to dress in ways that get more outlandish and revealing with every passing year while they fight the good fight and/or feed their craving for attention, depending on how you see the 'cape life'. As if that weren't troublesome enough, the superhuman mutations that make so many of these heroes' careers possible also result in greatly increased sexual sensitivity, particularly in females. The adventures and misadventures that these spandex-clad lady crusaders get into are often too hot to print for the kind of comics that their young admirers would read. Messy mistakes will be made, but you don't want to disappoint your readers, do you? So let the League know what kind of superheroine you are, your chosen name, powers, and appearance, and they'll send you out on your first patrols. Good luck.
Updated on Dec 27, 2025
by micdan282
Created on Nov 30, 2016
by fyreant
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