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Chapter 7
by otx
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NCP
1:54 pm
You check your smartphone. Again. Still no word from Trixie.
2:03 pm
You check your smartphone. Professor Edmonds frowns at you despite the fact that you're only one of over a hundred students in his lecture, and a good ten or twenty of you are on your phones.
3:14 pm
The lecture ends and the universe is now safe from hyperbolic trigonometry. Still no message. Professor Edmonds singles you out to stay after class. He waits until the other students are gone so you take the chance to check your phone again.
"Miss de Carlo, I normally don't pull my students aside like this, especially not the first years, but in your case I have to make an exception. You're a good student, and I'd hate to see you do something to hurt your academic standing."
"I'm sorry, Professor Edmonds; I like your class, really, but, uh, there's something personal going on in my life that's really distracting me."
"A powered villain stole something that you value very much and is teasing you with it. I was actually going to remark about your tee-shirt: the Board of Governors usually aren't fashion critics, but 'Keep Calm and Slide the Next One Up My Ass' might be going a bit too far."
It was about your tee-shirt? But... wait what? "How did you know about the super villain thing?"
"I'm an NCP."
Super-people are rated by the League: Class A's are the ones with kick-ass powers and fame; Class B's are the sort of garden variety types, or people with Class A powers and a really big scandal beneath them; Class C's are beginner heroes, like you, who haven't had a chance to make a name yet; Class D's are people with minor powers like Tunnel Vision, a guy who can see through walls and that's about it. Then there are the NCP's, or Non-Costumed Powers; their abilities are so minor or so useless that there never was a question of them wearing the tights. Bopso the Clown was one, with his power to transform to and from clown form at will; he's in jail now because his nose wasn't the only thing with red bulbous tip that he liked to entertain little kids with. Nancy 'Collatrix' Drough works in League Administration, where her ability to sort things at super-speed is put to good use.
"What's your power?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. However, it puts me in a special position to provide information."
"Do you know anything about a girl named Tricky Trixie?"
He concentrates for a moment. "Truly tremendous, Tricky Trixie traps trollops, tries tribbing, trades trysts."
"Huh?"
"Trixie Tremaine, the original Tricky Trixie, was a minor villainess; that was her signature tongue twister. She was picked up by the FBI in 1998 when she was three months pregnant; she's been at the Quantico Superhuman Research Facility ever since. Her daughter would be about your age, give or take a year."
"And you think this Tricky Trixie is the daughter?"
"I know she is; don't ask me how. Now, if I may be permitted to give you a nudge, you should run along home before your mother opens the mail."
You exercise your power. "Tell me how you know this."
"Nice try; one of the side effects of my power is that it makes me immune to yours. And thank you for the comment about my massages. Now scoot!"
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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.
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Updated on Jun 15, 2025
by micdan282
Created on Nov 30, 2016
by fyreant
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