ChasNicollette
Allons-y Means Let's Go.
- Joined
- Nov 1, 2007
- Posts
- 16,135
Interlude: Do What You Can Kid.
Superboy was brash, inconsiderate, a shameless flirt, aggressive in a fight, all ego all the time.
But he had potential.
And he had heart.
It was that heart that kept him alive, pounding in his chest as his blood soared to temperatures bordering on the magmic.
But then the power dropped out from under that Bestowed and she cried out in startlement and dismay, staring at her hands and wondering how she had failed the All-Mighty Kobra to be so robbed of his blessing.
"My turn!"
Just long enough for Superboy to slap the road bed with his trembling hand and send a shockwavefront of tactile-telekinetic force skidding across the asphalt-- knocking the Bestowed woman flying ass over teakettle with another scream of surprise--
--a scream that was immediately cut short as The Guardian came sprinting up and backhanded the hurtling woman with his shield. Insensate, the woman went crashing to the ground.
"Superboy," he barked as he hurried to the boy hero's side. "Are you all right?"
"Sure, a-okay, Guardian," Superboy grimaced, not quite managing to stand. "Fastest healing factor in The West." He coughed and wheezed, shaking his head to clear it as the pounding faded in his ears, in his chest. "Too bad we're East Coast, huh?"
"We've known each other your whole life," Guardian pointed out. "You can call me 'Jim.'"
"Nope, too weird," Superboy trailed his fingers through his hair. "That'd be like calling MacGyver by his first name."
"Can you fight? Fly? Can you at least walk?" Harper shook his head. "I can escort you to safety if you need, but if not, I need to keep providing support for civilian defenses and the other heroes in the city. Traci 13's going to use her urban magic to harness the collective energies of Metropolis, Gotham, and New York for some sort of defensive countermeasure-- and we're her ground support."
"I'm good, I'm good, go!" Superboy waved him off stubbornly, but then hesitated. "...though maybe a lift to Cadmus could be good? I have genetic data that they need to sequence, stat."
"My shortcut to Cadmus is miles from here, at the waterfront," Guardian shook his head. "Across miles of hotzones and enemy-held territory. You'll never make it in this shape. But-- but if you need a geneticist-- Serling Roquette is in New Justice League HQ on Bessolo and Sullivan. Only a few blocks away!"
Superboy's programming to fill in for Superman if he were to fall in battle included a map of Metropolis in his head-- Superman knew-- had known? --these streets like the back of his hand, thus Superboy had to. The location emerged from his subconscious like he had a compass in his brain-- kind of a creepy feeling, but he pushed that aside. Heroes didn't squick when shit got real.
"Yeah. Yeah. I got this. Go throw your mighty shield, Guardian, I'll schlepp my ass to the fakey H-o'-J."
Harper nodded. "Good luck, Kon."
"Never needed it," Superboy fired back, already turning to limp off. "And neither do you."
Guardian smirked faintly, and then turned to carry on sprinting towards The Daily Planet Building.
Distances whipped past beneath him.
He wasn't as fast as Superman had been. Wasn't as fast as Wonder Girl was now.
But his flight was self-propelled telekinesis-- autotelekinesis-- and sheer force of will could push him to shatterneck speeds.
It was over Metropolis, blasting over the city's skyline towards the nearby Mount Curtiss and The Cadmus Project embedded beneath... that that speed was turned against him.
One of the Bestowed spacetime-shifted into place atop The Newstime Building as Superboy streaked past and smirked to herself... hissing softly. She extended her hand.
And agony clutched the still-healing laser burn on Superboy's chest, heat seared his veins, his inner ear spun like a centrifuge and he plunged helplessly to the streets below...
...crashing hard and plowing a trench for three blocks down Clinton Street, screaming and groaning the whole way down.
Trembling, shaking his head, he attempted to pick himself out of the trench, the rubble, his healing factor was fighting to catch up, his telekinetic aura flickering in and out as he struggled to maintain consciousness, focus...
...and then that Bestowed teleported next to him.
"It would seem that not just your elder and better SSsssssuperman had that nasssty weaknesssss to magic..."
"SSsssscrew you, lady," Superboy retorted defiantly.
She held up her hand again and Superboy roared in agony as she redoubled the boiling in his veins...
"...let us see if your invulnerability is sufficient to keep you from exploding when your blood boils. If so, I can always turn your gutssss to sssssnakesssssss."
"Faith to Kali Yuga."
Superboy was brash, inconsiderate, a shameless flirt, aggressive in a fight, all ego all the time.
But he had potential.
And he had heart.
It was that heart that kept him alive, pounding in his chest as his blood soared to temperatures bordering on the magmic.
But then the power dropped out from under that Bestowed and she cried out in startlement and dismay, staring at her hands and wondering how she had failed the All-Mighty Kobra to be so robbed of his blessing.
"My turn!"
Just long enough for Superboy to slap the road bed with his trembling hand and send a shockwavefront of tactile-telekinetic force skidding across the asphalt-- knocking the Bestowed woman flying ass over teakettle with another scream of surprise--
--a scream that was immediately cut short as The Guardian came sprinting up and backhanded the hurtling woman with his shield. Insensate, the woman went crashing to the ground.
"Superboy," he barked as he hurried to the boy hero's side. "Are you all right?"
"Sure, a-okay, Guardian," Superboy grimaced, not quite managing to stand. "Fastest healing factor in The West." He coughed and wheezed, shaking his head to clear it as the pounding faded in his ears, in his chest. "Too bad we're East Coast, huh?"
"We've known each other your whole life," Guardian pointed out. "You can call me 'Jim.'"
"Nope, too weird," Superboy trailed his fingers through his hair. "That'd be like calling MacGyver by his first name."
"Can you fight? Fly? Can you at least walk?" Harper shook his head. "I can escort you to safety if you need, but if not, I need to keep providing support for civilian defenses and the other heroes in the city. Traci 13's going to use her urban magic to harness the collective energies of Metropolis, Gotham, and New York for some sort of defensive countermeasure-- and we're her ground support."
"I'm good, I'm good, go!" Superboy waved him off stubbornly, but then hesitated. "...though maybe a lift to Cadmus could be good? I have genetic data that they need to sequence, stat."
"My shortcut to Cadmus is miles from here, at the waterfront," Guardian shook his head. "Across miles of hotzones and enemy-held territory. You'll never make it in this shape. But-- but if you need a geneticist-- Serling Roquette is in New Justice League HQ on Bessolo and Sullivan. Only a few blocks away!"
Superboy's programming to fill in for Superman if he were to fall in battle included a map of Metropolis in his head-- Superman knew-- had known? --these streets like the back of his hand, thus Superboy had to. The location emerged from his subconscious like he had a compass in his brain-- kind of a creepy feeling, but he pushed that aside. Heroes didn't squick when shit got real.
"Yeah. Yeah. I got this. Go throw your mighty shield, Guardian, I'll schlepp my ass to the fakey H-o'-J."
Harper nodded. "Good luck, Kon."
"Never needed it," Superboy fired back, already turning to limp off. "And neither do you."
Guardian smirked faintly, and then turned to carry on sprinting towards The Daily Planet Building.
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