Adventures of Superguy

July 8, 2010 - Happy Harbor, RI

Mt. Justice

08:21:47

“This cave was the original headquarters of the Justice Guild when we were first called together. We’re calling it back into service. Since you four are determined to stay together and fight the good fight, you’ll do it on Guild terms, and under Guild supervision.” Batwoman said as she paced in front of them, lined up like soldiers on parade. She ceased her pacing and turned to take in their reaction.

Connor and Walli shared a look of assent, then looked to Robin and Kaldura. There were no objections, so the team nodded in unison and Batwoman continued, waving a hand to indicate the Guild heroes standing at ease behind him.

“Black Canary has volunteered to be your supervisor, and will live here when other duties don’t call her away.” The Blonde Bombshell has her arms crossed as she surveys her new charges. 

“Wonder Woman is in charge of training.” The Princess of Themsycara smiled and nodded to them, a statuesque presence that once more Connor felt it impossibly hard to look away from.

“I will deploy you on missions.” Batwoman says finally. Aquawoman and Jesse Quick are also present, watching as their young proteges take their first steps into a larger world. Hawkwoman is also present, and Star Sapphire flits overhead, her energy constructs doing much of the work getting the Cave up to snuff.

What’s the Hawk doing here? And without her ‘better half’? Still not sure if they’re gender swapped, or different reincarnations, or what.

“You mean real missions, right?” Robin asks her mentor, who has let her voluminous cape drape around her like a matte black shroud. The question they’ve all been worried about; is this offer a fig leaf or an olive branch?

“Yes, but covert.” Batwoman says curtly, eliciting puzzled looks from the team.

“The Guild will still cover the big stuff. There’s a reason we go around with these big targets on our chests.” Jesse Quick adds, tapping her lightning bolt emblem. 

“What do you mean by ‘covert’?” Connor asks, crossing his own arms. 

Aquawoman interjects to answer, radiating the easy aura of command that she has that must come with being royalty or being used to commanding superheroes in battle.

“But Project Cadmus proves that villains are getting smarter, and working through different channels then they have before. The Project is a USC funded and chartered defense project. It has powerful friends in DC, and what we uncovered there, what you uncovered, is highly disturbing. That means the Guild needs a team that can operate on the sly, while the regular membership attends to everything we already do.” She finishes, handing the discussion back to Batwoman.

“The five of you will be that team.” Batwoman punctually finishes her spiel.

“Yes!” Connor fist pumps in triumph.

This is the best day of my life! I’m in the Justice League! Guild! Whatever!

“Wait, five?” 

With the whir of machinery and a flash of light, the Zeta-Tube on this level spins up and makes a whirring noise before the computer makes its customary intonations. Seeing it in action for the first time from outside, Connor can see two shady silhouettes, one tall and broad and the other shorter and slimmer, resolve out of the bright light of the Zeta-Tube’s transportation bridge, like two people backlit by the sunset walking towards him. The light fades as he begins to make out details.

‘Recognized. Martian Manhunter, 07.’

‘Recognized. Ms. Martian, B-05’

With the computer’s introduction, he once more sees this universe’s Martian Manhunter. Female, bald with the distinctive oversized cranium, and a rich green in color with solid red eyes. She is dressed differently; still the crossed X red bandoleer supporting her bust and linked to her waist, but now she is only wearing a pair of dark blue briefs and blue turned down thigh high boots, matched by her opera length gloves going up her arms. Her high collared cape in a darker shade of blue is attached to her bandoleer straps via gold clasps.

Beside her is the smaller figure. She looks rather different from the Manhunter; a lighter shade of green he can see on her face, hands and legs, but her eyes are human, a beautiful amber and she has red hair, worn shoulder length. Her facial features are strangely normal, human seeming, unlike her mentor. 

Cute, in a ‘girl-next-door’ kind of way. If you like your girls green.

Which I think I do…

She is dressed not dissimilarly; a short sleeved shirt in white, with the same red bandoleer straps, and a miniskirt in dark blue, blue wrist length gloves and knee high boots. Over that she wears a blue cloak with the hood pulled up. 

“This is Martian Manhunter’s niece, Ms. Martian.” Batwoman says by way of introductions as they all turn to the newcomers.

Ms. Martian steps forward, her aunt looming beside and behind her, and gives a nervous wave.

“Hi.” She says as she cocks her head and scuffs one boot under their collective gazes.

Definitely cute. Like, too cute. And green! Best day of my life.

No one answers her for a moment, the silence stretching awkwardly. The girls share a puzzled look, like they have no idea who this Martian girl is. Or they’re simply too surprised by Batwoman unilaterally adding a stranger to their roster. Whatever the cause, the silence stretches and Ms. Martian wilts under the weight of being regarded.

Oh, come on people…

“Hi! Welcome to the team! Glad to have you on board. I didn’t know Martian Manhunter had a niece.” Connor says, striding forward smiling and offering his hand to Ms. Martian. She looks incredibly relieved at the save and takes his hand daintily, smiling shyly at him from under her hood. After shaking she clasps her hands together, giving them a short bow.

“Aunt J’oann only recently allowed me to accompany her to Terra. So that’s to be expected. I’m honored just to be included.” She says, finally pulling back her hood. Her ginger hair goes to her shoulders, he sees, in a rather conservative hairstyle.. The rest of the team break out of whatever confusion flummoxed them and approach her, each offering a handshake and introductions. Ms. Martian appears very pleased to make their acquaintances. He can hear her heartbeat begin to slow down from its nervous flutter; it has a strange but pleasant rhythm, different from the humans and metahumans he’s met so far. The Manhunters’ differs from hers as well, deeper and with a slightly off rhythm. 

“Indeed, young M’gann has undergone a great deal of training to master her abilities and proved herself to earn a place as my apprentice on Earth.” Martian Manhunter intones. Her voice is deep and rich, but he detects something slightly off in her heartbeat, but cannot place it.

Probably just a Martian thing. I barely know how human hearts are supposed to sound. Another thing I should practice. 

“Wow, that must be a lot of training. Martians have a lot of powers, don’t they?” He asks, genuine interest sparking.

They have a stupid number of powers! Strength, toughness, shapeshifting, telepathy, telekinesis, density control! Not sure if Martian Vision is still canon… or if that matters ‘round these parts.

“Oh, we do! I’m still working on my mastery of each. I’m not even close to Aunt J’oann’s level.” Ms. Martian, or M’gann, says self-deprecatingly. 

Hey, M’gann, like Megan! That’s cute. I wonder if all Martian names match up to Earth ones like that. God, I have so many questions for her! About her powers, about Mars… why does she have hair when her aunt doesn’t? Maybe an aesthetic choice?

“I’m sure you’re already amazing.” He says without thinking, trying to reassure her.

M’gann seems surprised by the compliment, and the rest of the girls suddenly look wary at glance at Connor. Then M’gann looks away, pulling her hood back up.

“Tha-thank you…” She stutters. “I, uh, like your shirt.” She says, and suddenly her shirt begins shifting color and pattern. The gold belt buckle she wears, depicting a red X on a green field in a gold border, shifts to turn the green to black, just like the shield he picked out for his costume tee. Then the white of her shirt turns black to match it as well.

“That’s so cool! Is that part of your shapeshifting?” He asks, looking her up and down but the rest of her doesn’t change.

“Oh! No! No no no! My clothing is organic in nature, pretty much all clothing on Mars is. That way it can shift along with the wearer.” She explains hurriedly, as if she is embarrassed by something.

Did I say something wrong?

He looks confusedly to the rest of the team to find them glaring at him and is once more left rudderless on the social ocean. Walli elbows him in the ribs, and he flinches for effect.

“You basically just asked if she was naked and just made it look like she was wearing clothes!” Walli tersely whispers at him out of the corner of her mouth. Connor blanches and turns back to Ms. Martian.

“I didn’t mean it like that! I’m so sorry. Of course you’re not… you… I should stop talking.” He says miserably at the affront he has unwittingly caused.

“That’s, that’s okay. You didn’t know, you were just curious. Apology accepted.” She says, smiling slightly and laying a hand on his arm to reassure him. He returns the smile, glad to have covered for his faux pas. 

For some reason the rest of the team is now glaring at him again, and he cannot see why for the life of him.

“Robin, we have business back in Gotham.” Batwoman says curtly, and Robin peels off to consult with her mentor after a nod to the team. 

“I must return to the Atlantean consulate with her majesty. We are receiving a delegation from the Ecclesia this morning.” Kaldura says, and offers each of her teammates, including the newest, a fist bump.

I’m starting to pick up on something; I think Atlanteans do that rather than shake. Hard to shake with webbed fingers. Ha, go me! Less than a week in this universe and I’m already picking up on the social cues.

“Don’t forget Kid, you’re supposed to be taking the campus tour out in California.” Jesse Quick reminds her niece, tapping her forehead teasingly as Walli swats at her hand but is inevitably too slow. 

“I remember! Jeez, you act like I don’t have a calendar, Jess.” Walli complained.

“Pretty sure you don’t, Kid, so you can have an excuse of why you’re late to everything despite the superspeed. Don’t be late, because-”

“-early is on time, on time is late, and late is inexcusable. Yeah, Jess, so you always say.” Walli finished for her aunt, rolling her eyes.

“Maybe if I repeat it enough, it’ll sink in one of these days.” Jesse says. “But I’ve also got places to be. Why don’t you help get Connor settled before you take the Tube out West?” Jesse smiled as she said it, eliciting a groan from her niece.

“Ha, I still got it. Catch you later kids!” And then she was gone, hitting the Zeta-Tube so fast the computer barely managed to note her usage.

“Superboy, Ms. Martian.” Black Canary strutted over, calling for their attention. Connor had a difficult time not looking at her shapely, fishnet gartered legs as she approached.

“Yeah?” He answered, furiously trying to make and maintain eye contact with her baby blue orbs. 

“The Guild has offered the whole team quarters here. It’s not necessary, and the other three won’t be here full time. But its free for you both to live here permanently, if you want to.” Black Canary offered with consideration, but he could hear how carefully couched her words were.

‘Because you haven’t got anywhere else to go.’ She didn’t say it, but the Guild was thinking it… he thought darkly, before shaking his head to clear the gloomy thought.

No! This is good! This is cool! I’m gonna live in my secret superhero lair. Or base. Villains have lairs. Heroes have bases. I always wanted to have my own space and live with friends. It’ll be awesome.

“Thanks, I appreciate it. I’ll definitely crash here until I figure something else out.” Connor replies, and immediately regrets his choice of words as he sees the concern light up on the faces of Black Canary, Walli and M’gann. 

Shame twisted in his gut. He hated this. Hated when people pitied him.

“You don’t have to figure anything else out, Connor. This can be your home. The Guild wants you on the team, and not to have to worry about anything else. We know this is a big adjustment for you. Its part of why I volunteered to be your supervisor. I’m also a licensed counselor, and I’d like to offer my services.” Canary said warmly, clearly trying to win his sympathies.

No more counselors. I don’t need any more counseling! Its in the past, this is a fresh start, with everything I could have ever dreamed of. The last thing I need is anyone telling me I have to confront the bad feelings again. Still, I should be civil, Canary is gonna be living here with us.

“I… appreciate the offer. Really. I do. But I’m fine. I’ll be fine. Just gotta get my feet under me, and adjust.” Connor says, holding fiercely to his pride to keep his voice from cracking in front of these women. He nearly succeeds.

Walli and M’gann both look concerned but trepidatious, and Black Canary nods solemnly to him. 

“If that’s how you feel, I won’t push it. Counseling is only helpful if you want it, Connor. But my door is always open.” She replies, and he cannot deny her earnestness, or how it touches him that she respects his choice.

Nobody is gonna force me to go to counseling anymore. I’m an adult now. I make my own choices. And I CHOOSE not to get counseling. Besides, what do I need counseling now for anyway? I’m not dying before my 18th birthday in the hospice ward anymore. 

“Thanks… maybe I’ll think about it.” He says, angry at himself that he can’t keep his voice from cracking. Black Canary remains solemn and stoic, and nods to show her respect for his decision. Slowly, Walli and M’gann come down from the tense highs of the discussion, and Walli reaches for a topic to deflect to.

“If we’re all gonna get our own rooms here, we should probably pick them now before the others get back and hog all the good ones. Lastonethere’sarottenegg!” She shouts as she zips away down the hallway in search of the living quarters. The duration of the sound of mechanical doors sliding open and shut quickly demonstrates Walli has no idea where she’s going. 

Connor turns back to Black Canary and asks the obvious question.

“So, living quarters?”

“Come on, I’ll show you.” She says, laughing. Each note sounds like the peal of church bells. 

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