Work Text:
Keystone City Police Department
April 23, 2016
Meta-Human Case No# 117087-B
The Detective-Sergeant was absent-mindedly chewing on a pretzel when his pager beeped mere seconds before the door to his left opened to allow entry to a very large African-American man who smiled congenitally and held his hand out.
“Sergeant Morillo,” the grinning giant acclaimed. “It’s nice to meet you. My name is John Diggle, I’m here from the A.S.A.”
“A.S.A.?” Morillo mumbled before swallowing his mouthful of fried bread and gripped the proffered appendage. “Jesus, so many of these damn agencies popping up nowadays, which ones are you guys again?”
“The Agency of Supernatural Affairs,” he chuckled around the words a little, apparently amused by Morillo’s rather on-point remark. “We’re the ones who have to sort out all the ‘inbetweeners’ as we call them.” The man even bothered to make the air quotes, this calmed the detective somewhat, certain that anyone who made fun of himself couldn’t be all bad.
“Well, Agent?” he tested the word and Diggle responded with a nod. “I hardly see how this… lunatic constitutes an ‘inbetweener’ but I'm sure you’re about to go into a well-practiced, chummy and most of all hearteningly patriotic tirade all about it.” The agent chuckled again.
“Can we skip it then?” he laughed and held his hands out in a disarming manner. “I’ll just state for the record that unlike a great deal of our cases this one is in fact a bona fide mercenary and not strictly a career criminal.”
“Ooooh!” Morillo’s sarcasm was dripping. “She’s a mercenary you say? Oh goodie! I was wondering how to let her go after she caused a 64-car pile up on Main Street. I’ll just give the Mayor a call and tell him, ‘it’s all good sir, she was just a kooky merc.’” He shot the other man a dark glare. “I’m sure we’ll have a giggle.”
“Yes… that is a bit of an issue.” Diggle turned to stare in through the one-way glass that separated the two men and the meta-human currently rocking back on her chair in the reinforced interview room. Feet clad in nothing but stripy purple and blue toe-socks were propped up on the table and the handcuffs she’d presumably been wearing from the moment of her arrest to being placed in custody were still looped through the bar in table next to them, it appeared as though she was singing but the audio was not on. He scratched at his balding head. “How did she slip the ‘cuffs?”
“I figured I’d wait for one of you ‘experts’ to show up and tell me,” the Sergeant replied, scarfing the rest of his pretzel and washing it back with a can of lukewarm coffee. “Darnedest thing, I look away for two minutes to check on the officer who was interviewing her and when I come back she’s like that, made herself right at home.”
“Sergeant when you say ‘…the officer who was interviewing her’?” Diggle looked a little concerned at that.
“Ah… Yeah, she broke his shin.” This was said with such nonchalance that Special Agent John Diggle, the supposed ‘expert’ felt he needed to act shocked in the other man’s stead.
“What?!”
“It’s a damn pain in my ass,” again, this sentence was delivered with such cynical disinterest that the larger man began to search the detective’s face for a tell of true anger. There was none. “Chyre couldn’t just keep his mouth shut and it’s our bad luck that all the electronics didn’t glitch out until after his asinine little comment. Now I’m probably gonna have to sit through a six-hour sexual harassment seminar just because some freaky little brat couldn’t ignore one sexist old cop’s moronic prattle.” He ended with a world-weary sigh that made Diggle want to reassure the younger man that life was not in fact all bad things. This was not part of his job here though. He coughed.
“This ‘comment’?” Morillo clicked a few buttons on the laptop in front of him…
#Now about your vest-
Oh my! Are you so eager to see what’s under me vest? I’m dreadfully afraid I’ve never been one for the ol’ ‘Silver Fox’ thing. Sorry.
No problem dollface, I’m interested in women not flat little kids so feel free to keep all your clothes- CRACK - ARGH! Motherfuskrreee-#
Both men winced at the sound of Chyre’s leg breaking followed by the hiss of static. Diggle looked back through the glass and was just a little disconcerted by the fact that the catlike gaze was now trained on him. Two violently pink orbs, with slit pupils were boring into his own. “Morillo?” He couldn’t quite keep the nervousness from his tone.
Morillo, now sorting through his notes just huffed, “She staring at you?”
“Um, yes?” he was at a loss, he had very extensive file on the young woman in the briefcase being held by his partner but nothing indicated she could ignore mirrored glass the way she seemed to be doing right now.
“Give it a moment and it’ll get even creepier,” the police officer’s voice was still a study in nonchalance and Diggle began to wonder if he’d been staring at the girl like this before he’d entered the room. He was about to break the uneasy gaze when her mouth contorted into a Cheshire Cat grin, fangs and all. He shivered a little. Damnit, he swore in his head. They didn’t tell me she’d be so unnerving in person. Then she seemed to break all the tension by blowing a big pink bubble which popped all over her ashen face.
“…where’d she get the gum?”
“Your guess is as good as mine, we had a pair of officers practically strip search her before we put her in there, got a whole cavalcade of nonsense out of her pockets; a yo-yo, two switchblades, a civil war era derringer, a little paper bag of all-day suckers, something she called a ‘jaffa cake’ whatever that is, a set of trick playing cards, two French-Canadian tourism pamphlets and one of those endless magician’s handkerchiefs… all in blue, gray or purple of course.”
“…of course.”
“No gum though, then lo and behold she’s blowing bubbles like a fricking cartoon character.”
The agent felt a bead of sweat drip down the back of his neck and he suddenly remembered a very crucial detail regarding this, his latest case. “Ah well, she probably either acquired it on route to the holding room or…”
Morillo did not like the foreboding loaded in that last word. “Or?”
“…or she magicked it up from somewhere.”
“What? Like some sorta 2-bit stage magician?”
“…” The big man’s silence was uncomfortably telling.
“…” Morillo sent a slightly less calm glare through the glass at the young woman still trying to peel gum out of her nostrils. His next words were almost whispered, “Ah shit. I’m not ready for this.”
“We rarely are.”
“We!” the detective hissed at him about to tear into the agent for withholding vital information, then his face twisted as something occurred to him. “Then she ‘magicked’ the camera too. That’s interfering with poli-”
“No.” Diggle now had his face set in a grim countenance entirely removed from the ‘Jovial G-Man’ shtick he’d walked in with. “No, she’s a meta whose abilities are directly tied to chance and probability, but they’re also extremely volatile to electrical devices and are tied to her emotional outbursts.” He locked his deep brown eyes with the Sergeant’s. “When you said it was your ‘bad luck’ earlier regarding the recordings…” he let that sentence lie in case the man needed time for it to sink in but Morillo hadn’t been made detective because of his looks or attitude.
“I had no idea how right I was,” his gunmetal eyes narrowed. “Question is Agent Diggle; how do you know so much about her powers when she’s got no records on any police server.” The big man’s eyebrows shot up at that. “Oh trust me, I checked and checked, even pulled a favour I had saved up with the Feds to try and get a bead on her. Wanna know what I found?”
“…”
“Squat! So where the hell did you get your info?”
“…” Diggle’s eyes narrowed this time. “Do you know what H.I.V.E. is Detective?”
“I’ve heard some noise,” they both turned to watch their ‘suspect’ tip backwards and end up on the floor out of sight except for her socked feet. “International secret terrorist organisation combined with the Illuminati and some sorta Hogwarts for Metas on the side right?”
“Close enough. There are lots of theories and only the cells that are taken down are given any time in the light of day. What we do know is that they clearly have people embedded in the darker parts of our government, because this girl in particular has a lot of ‘super’ history, particularly with your local boy.”
“We haven’t had a local super since…”
“Kid Flash left for Jump right?”
Morillo shot an irritated glare at the other man. “So she’s one of what? The Teen Titans’ bad guys or…”
“I believe they just go by Titans, most of them are legally adults.”
“Whatever,” a half wave indicating semantics was not something relevant to the discussion. “Answer the question.”
“I suppose former bad guy would be a better description,” Diggle checked his watch before turning back to the detective. “Because despite being arrested a grand total of 71 times in two years she only ever served one year in a juvenile detention centre in Washington for ‘reformed or reforming ’ meta-humans. It did help that the only death on her charge sheet was one incident of manslaughter, but even still there’s a whole lot of bedlam that was essentially ignored and covered up. She even became a bit of an idol over in California because of all the hype and…” he looked at the teenage mercenary behind the glass, dressed like a video game character and currently rubbing the back of her wild cotton candy pink hair in pain, “…well, look at her.” Morillo grunted at that.
“She looks like a something a 90’s cartoon threw up at a metal concert.” Diggle nodded, having similar thoughts himself when he was handed her file three hours ago and told to hurry along her release.
“Very popular with the kids these days apparently.”
“Really?”
“My daughter loves her,” he rubbed the bald spot on his head at the memory of his 12-year old girl asking for a poster of a former supervillain. “It’s ‘creepy-chic’ or something. I don’t get it myself but what can you do.”
“Tch! So she’s some sorta celebrity as well as being a super-powered, magical,” this was said with a audible hiss, “former terrorist who fancies herself a mercenary. Oh the papers are gonna have a goddamn field day with this when they find out.”
“Well you won’t have to worry about the media,” Morillo’s eyebrows nearly disappeared under his messy fringe. “That’s one of the benefits of having us interfere with your case. It’ll end up being swept under the tabloid rug and dismissed as just another day in the weird, wild midwest.”
“Oh well, thank you so very much.” The police officer drawled. “What’s the catch?”
“After a thorough chat and some fact-finding she’ll probably end up being released with no charges.” Diggle braced himself for the usual reaction this statement got from law enforcement.
“WHAT!” The anger in the shorter man’s tone was almost tangible. “She caused more than 2 million dollars worth of damage in eight minutes and you want me to just let her walk out of here?”
“Maybe,” the agent shrugged, used to this particular breed of outrage by now. “It all depends on what she has to say. Only thing I know was that she wasn’t on an officially sanctioned mission and that H.I.V.E. aren’t covering her ass anymore leaving her much more open for more, how would you put it,” he hums and rubs his chin, “patriotic job offers.”
The fire in the lawman’s eyes went cold alongside his tone. “You mean to tell me the American government would willingly employ a former criminal as what? A supernatural errand-girl?!”
“Sure, we can’t always rely on the Big Guys in the sky to handle the weird stuff. For one they attract way too much attention and once they’re done we can’t deny any knowledge of them being there because they are monitored by various world powers.” He points at the ex-thief through the barrier, who waves with a cheeky grin in return - eliciting another shiver in Diggle’s spine. I hope she can’t hear us too. “It helps that she isn’t an American citizen either. Means if it really comes down to it, we’ll have no issues sticking her in Guantanamo should she well and truly fuck up.” Besides the obvious issues her powers present, he refrains from giving voice to that last thought, though the way Morillo snorts implies he doesn’t need to.
“What is she then? Sounds British to my ears but-”
“Indian I believe.”
“…” Morillo for the first time in this rather incredulous conversation drops his jaw in shock.
“Hmm?”
“She’s Indian?” he points at the ghostly pale girl who tilts her head to the side with a curious look on her face. “Like curry, Bollywood, Ghandi and tea leaves Indian? Look at her!” Diggle’s eyes narrow but he chuckles a little.
“A little stereotypical there, Detective. Though she is, if the Titans and the Harmony Hills Detention staff are to be believed, a practicing Hindu. India is a country with a little over a billion people, there are all types of tribes and races that live there including a few very secretive ones we know next to nothing about. Her colouring though is probably something to do with her metagene, apparently she’s a natural bubblegum pink.” Morillo continues to gape at the meta who chooses that moment to run her hands through her hair. Coincidentally I hope, the agent thinks to himself.
“What the hell…” the shorter man whispers to himself.
They stand in silence for a moment before Diggle turns to Morillo. “Shall we get on with this then?”
“Fine.” His tone indicates his opinion on it being anything but ‘fine’. However he rubs his face with one hand and moves around his counterpart, “Follow me, Agent.”
—
She rocks in her chair and watches the two men leave the little soundproof room and snickers, as usual reveling in her extra-normal abilities despite the apparent incarceration before sobering a little. If the G-Man’s here maybe I’m in a bit more of a pickle than I thought. She remembers the look on his face when he realised she could see him through the glass and cannot help the next peal of suppressed laughter bursting through her almost permanent grin. Heh, never gets old.
Their conversation outside the holding room is muffled by the heavy door but her felid traits had never been limited to just her eyes. Her sensitive hearing manages to pick up the deadbolts the police had drilled into the door around an hour ago and most of the comments regarding them.
“…think you’d use old…these.”
“No…she fried the electric…you’d been here earlier…them being installed.” Each clanking lock the paranoid lawmen had affixed muting certain words even her delicate ears couldn’t hear.
The door opened and she assaulted the pair with a cheery grin and a little wave. “Hi boys! Done naffing?” She did as she always did when confronted with American law enforcement, devolving into confusing British slang just for the chance to make their jobs harder. What’s life without a little struggle? Her grin, if possible, gets even wider at finally having someone to throw the full force of her personality at. When she notices something at the waist of the big black guy in the suit however her smile falters imperceptibly and she feels one of her eyelids tic. Oi!
He chucks a fairly thick file on the table while the detective who’d managed to hold her gaze gave her a glare. She sighed and took her feet off the table.
“Guv’ you are exactly zero amounts of fun,” she gives him a cheeky smile without teeth. “I ‘ope you realise that, yea’?”
“Somehow I don’t feel all that bad being insulted by a teenage girl who’s idea of fun is a traffic incident,” he shoots back, his sarcasm uncannily well-defined for an American. Her grin grows at his show of wit but she’s already got his number - cynical Lawman with a heart under all the arsehole. She approves, having never liked ‘boring’ cops. The other one but…
“It’s nice to finally meet you Loxi,” her grin quickly drops to a much less amused smirk. “My name is Agent John Diggle with the A.S.A.”
“I prefer Jenna if we’re going wit’ the civvy names,” her fists clench in warning, both men notice but refuse to comment. “Or Jenny if you must, I know ‘ow you Yanks love your ‘-y’s on the end o’ things.” He just smiles at her and places his phone on the table next to the file and pressing a few things before opening up the folder.
“Then again for the record,” he clears his throat. “Harumm- My name is Agent John Diggle of the Agency of Supernatural Affairs, sitting next to me is Detective-Sergeant Jared Morillo of the Keystone City Police Department Meta-Human Task-force, badge numbers will be annotated in the written report. I’m here on the authority of the United States Government to oversee the interrogation of the meta-human suspect of case… what case number is this again Sergeant?”
“117087-B”
“Thank you. Suspect is one Loxi Kamala Jandhyala, also known as Jinx or according to her own wishes Jenna.” He looks up and smiles at her again. “Can you confirm this for me please Jenna?” Her smile is now gone and she glares at the man. What’s your game?
“Yeah. Although now I’m gonna really insist you use Jinx. I don’t like how bloody smug you sound using my real name. Arsewipe.” This last word was whispered, loudly, as she decides to drop the over-exaggeration of her adopted accent.
He chuckles. “Fair enough. So then Jinx, lets get the most important question out of the way…” She raises one barely there pink eyebrow. “…Are you still affiliated with H.I.V.E.?”
“What!” Morillo goes to interrupt but is silenced by the serious looks on both of their faces, now a little curious if somewhat pissed off.
“…”
“Jinx? Answer the question please.”
“No.” Her remark is so full of venom that both Diggle and the ever-cynical cop wince in response. “But I’m sure they’re keeping tabs on me, they do so hate giving up on what they think is theirs.” Morillo is so surprised at how much loathing was in the young girl’s glare that he misses the big man’s slightly apprehensive swallow.
“Good, well now we can move onto the incident.” He attempts to break the tension with a grin. Jinx grins back, although this one is less for humour and more an excuse to show her teeth. Her very sharp teeth.
“Sure thing, Johnny.” He chuckles again, trying to hide his nervousness and thinking how even his ex-wife never managed to make his spine shake like that when she called him by his childhood nickname.
“Well then I guess my first question is, what were you doing in Keystone City today?”
“My job.” She yawns half-theatrically, giving him a more detailed look at her very prominent canines.
“…a-and that would be?” the agent stuttered a little, his mind just a little too focused on her more feral characteristics.
Her next look still filled with hatred but was less aggressive, now that her apparent threat had been observed she seemed to become more apathetic to their continued presence. “No way buddy. I’ve got that, wotchercallit… Um, ‘client confidence’.”
“Client Confidentiality,” Morillo corrected, inserting himself into the interview as the ‘bad cop’. “You’re telling me some godless merc has a signed agreement and work ethic. Don’t make me laugh!”
“I do have a god if that makes you feel any better.” She gave the detective a disinterested stare before huffing somewhat wistfully and leaning forward to rest her chin in her right hand, while her left tapped out a rhythm against the tabletop. “Play big bad copper all you want, I’m not gonna tell you anything you don’t already know. I mean, you have the guy from the car I crashed right?”
“…” both of the interviewers shared a blank silence and she balked a little.
“R-right?” her mouth went a little dry.
Diggle, at a loss considering his jurisdiction was strictly limited to the meta in front of him turned to Morillo. The policeman cleared his throat, “All the victims of the enormous car crash you started this afternoon were transferred to the nearest hospitals based on injuries.” His gaze turned icy. “You’re lucky there were no casualties, including the driver of the sedan you totaled to kick it off.” The pink-haired witch clicked her teeth at this.
“Tch!” Her feline eyes narrowed. Of course all the shite luck ends up going my way, why’d I have to go and join the goody two-shoes again? Of course her thoughts were mere moaning, she knew precisely why she’d joined after all… A look at both of them and a plan formed that might divide them for a moment and give her an answer she needed. Jinx giggled, “Ah well, it doesn’t matter. Rosie’s still out there at least.”
“Rosie?” the big G-man followed up, almost perfectly timed, she crinkled her eyes and sent them a predatory grin.
“My partner,” and left that statement to hang in the air for a moment.
Morillo was out of his seat with a half-whispered, “Shit!” before rushing out of the room. Diggle watched him and when he turned back to the young interviewee with a raised eyebrow he found no trace of the smugness she’d just displayed merely a hand obscured by violently glowing pink sparks. She nodded at the phone and without breaking eye contact he carefully paused it.
“Who the fuck are you!” now they were isolated in the room without a record she had surged up and half crouched on the steel table, dragging him upwards by his tie in a very definite show of her preternatural strength. He’d quickly stood to avoid being strangled by his own clothes and was trying to make calming motions with his hands.
“John Georgio Diggle, of the A.S.A. Former Marark-” She kicked him, hard enough to bruise his hip.
“Really? I’ve never met a ‘Marark’ before ya know,” she said humourlessly. “I’m talking about that… Drone.” This last word was forced out as a contemptuous whisper. He gave a nervous chuckle.
“I’m a mole for the US Government working to track down the ties to our inner circles in the Senate and Law Enforcement.”
She bared her teeth and moved her hex-laden hand close to his ear and let one spark jump onto the stud in his ear. It tightened to a very painful degree and his face contorted from the unexpected pain. “Imagine what it does in a mouth full of fillings,” the pinkette whispered. “Now try your other fib. Let’s see if I’ll believe that one.”
“It’s true!” he ground out, panic clear in his voice. “It didn’t start that way but I’ve never taken the yellow pill.”
Jinx’s eyebrows rose at that. Pills, eh? “Cute. Brainwashing meds, fun for the whole family,” she dropped his tie and his now limp knees dropped him into his chair. Her cheery grin seemed to come back for a moment, “side effects may include; indoctrination, ambivalence to heinous acts and urges to conquer the world, right?”
“Something like that I guess,” he heaved another panicky chuckle out as she slunk back into her seat.
“Kaise shubh, Daadee na?” Her grin was frozen and her glare like ice. “Yeah, we had something like that too. It felt like something creeping around your skull, really gave a whole ‘nother meaning to ‘Head-Master’.” Diggle’s nervous twitch narrowed her gaze. He knew. “Fucker.”
“I figured your eyes would catch the pattern.” He reached down to rub the small yellow, angular capital D pinned on his suspender buckle; turning it to shiny metallic black again. “Your files,” he tapped the manila shift he’d managed to save, “say you can see like a cat and have sometimes detected invisible assailants with ease. Didn’t quite believe it until I saw you watching me through the mirror.”
“That’s a nice badge,” Jinx’s hostility was wavering, she never really enjoyed being furious too often, it was never interesting enough to catch her attention for too long. “Not as permanent as mine though. So I win.” She grinned genuinely this time, well aware that her sudden shift to good humour would rattle the agent more than a continued temper tantrum would. Her finger jabbed forward and pressed the record button on the phone screen and she felt a shiver of a laugh titter in her chest at the enormous flinch that followed her moving.
“I don’t care who you’re working for and why but if some senator or trumped-up security chief wants to buy my services then I have a darkweb site with all the contracting clauses and whatnot. I handle weird shit and my client this time was not an insane supervillain slash evil dictator so I don’t feel like ratting ‘em out, especially not to an agency I’ve never bloody heard of.” She said this sentence as DS Morillo strode back through the door glaring at the pink-haired ex-thief. “Oh, I take it Rosie’s all done then?”
“I don’t know what the hell you two think you’re up to in my town, but I’m going to get to the bottom of it,” he grinned and she grimaced at his next turn of phrase. “See lucky you, is arrested not for the assault of… whatever that thing was, but for a whole mess o’ other things. Traffic violations being the first and last, maybe a few in the middle as well.” He turned and smirked at Diggle, clearly having heard the tail end of Jinx’s tirade. “So we get to extend this lovely play date we’ve got here for the foreseeable future, at least until you give me some information I can use to justify 2.87 million dollars worth of damages to the Mayor’s office.”
“Sure thing,” she smiled cheerfully at him and blew a tiny pink bubble which snapped and elicited a twitch in the detective’s shit-eating expression. “It was a demon, yeah. Got hired to snuff him back down below before he did anything too naughty.”
Diggle boggled and Morillo snorted. “Right. Of course it’s a fucking demon. How convenient that is,” he slammed his hands against the table; eliciting a small ‘eep’ from the agent and a smug look from the meta. “Try your next excuse. Lets see if I believe that one.”
Jinx snorted and started giggling like mad.
“What the hell are you laughing about?” the detective roared.
She wiped at her eyes and tried to smother her amusement a little. “Sorry… snrk… just an inside joke.” Her mouth set in a grimace and she straightened up for a moment before breaking in muffled giggles again.
“You think I’m joking around?”
“No,” her laughter started to die out and she held her hands up in surrender. “It’s true though. Its name was Belegromophon; small-fry hell creature… which is enough to destroy a town like this given time and free reign. I was hired by a League-affiliated sorcerer to deal with the hell-spawn while they went after the summoner. That's as much as I’m sayin’ though.”
“And why should I believe you?”
“Meh,” she shrugged her chalky shoulders. “I don’t really care whether you do or not. But if you want confirmation, you could always ask the Flash to confirm it when he gets here.”
Morillo and Diggle both looked bamboozled by the sentence. “Wha-” the detective was about to ask.
“What do you mean, ‘when the Flash gets here’?” Diggle leaned forward a little intrigued now. The pinkette flashed her grin and a deep part of the government agent’s reason tried to tug against his curiosity.
“What?” her arms came up. “Doesn’t he respond to every distress call in the region?” Her hands clapped together and seemingly disappeared in a burst of incandescent pink light.
—
Rose was contemplating whether to flick her cigarette against the dumpster or the air-conditioning box when the Police Station across the way began shrieking with alarms.
“Huh?” she absent-mindedly flicked it into the open dumpster. “They sound a bit differen’ from the ones at the hospital.”
Just a minute later a noise like a glitching computer hummed in her ear and a pink flash lit up, followed by a cat-like grunt as her partner materialised, sans boots, next to their getaway vehicle. The white-haired mercenary tossed her a candy pink bike helmet and in one elegant maneuver flipped her right leg over the console of the appropriated motorcycle starting the engine and immediately tossing it into gear. She sped away, knowing her companion’s reflexes were enough to get her on the bike before it was out of reach.
As they moved sedately away through the alley she turned her covered eye towards the softly cursing pinkette behind her. “That took longer than I thought.”
“Shut up!” barked her erstwhile partner in… well not crime so much… “I couldn’t find their bloody evidence lock-up.”
“Ah.”
“Shit! Those boots were her favourites,” the whining only ever came out when it involved her. “And a souvenir to boot.”
Snrk! Rose couldn’t help it. She’d always had a weakness for puns.
“Oh, real fucking funny to you ain’t it?”
“Yuup.”
The pink-haired witch starting swearing in Hindi again. Something about the world sparing her from more ill-mannered Australian women it seemed. Though much less polite. The merc couldn’t really grab the nuances, Slade had apparently not considered the subcontinent all that important and so she only knew the most basic of phrases. The tone and words though were very familiar.
“By the by… Boss wants to chat with you about you know... destroying a freeway.”
Rose couldn’t see but she certainly felt Jinx immediately brighten. The close air in this unreasonably long alleyway seemed to charge with itchy pinkness.
“Really?!” Ugh, she thought to herself. How that amount of sappy enthusiasm comes out of someone with a British accent is beyond me. “Phone?”
“In the helmet, just press the button on your strap.”
“Cheers.” A small click led to a dial tone coming over both of their built-in headsets. It rang once. Twice. Thri- CLICK.
[WHAT DID YOU DO?! ]
Rose winced, while Jinx seemed to nearly bounce.
“Hold on Lucky, we’re hitting the road proper.” She saw the opening to this convoluted backstreet and slid out behind an expensive looking Benz before kicking it into a higher gear and powering along in front. They needed a better exit plan than “Cosplay Criminals on a Stolen Bike” but it would do until one presented itself. Her partner for what it was worth seemed to ignore her in favour of-
“Rae-Rae!!” she squealed. “It’s so nice to hear you over the phone after so long.”
[I spoke to you this morning. Now answer my question! ]
A shiver went up both the mercenaries’ spines for very different reasons.
“A day is far too long.” Jinx seemed to be willfully ignoring the accusation in order to… flirt? Ugh.
“She wrecked the main road, Miss Roth.”
“Rose!”
[…]
“Look, Rae-Rae.” The nervousness in her voice was palpable even over the speaker. “I can explai-”
[No.]
“Huh?”
[I’m rescinding your privileges.]
“R-Rae?”
[Nope.]
“Sunshine?” Her sunny voice became a bit quieter.
[…]
“Snuggle-bunny?” This one, almost whispered was answered by a long sigh that came over the speaker.
[I'm murdering Gar once I'm done with this call. Rose, what happened?]
“The suspect clocked us when some racist shithead threw a bottle at Jinx and her glamour came undone.”
[…]
“It fled, hypnotised a civilian into giving up their vehicle. What then proceeded was an impromptu chase, which was quickly ended when Jinx decided to jump off an overpass onto the roof of the damn thing and let loose her whole deal.”
[Azar help me…] Rose sympathised.
“Wheels fell off, the road cracked a little and then a tanker fell over.”
[WHAT ?!]
“It was a milk tanker, Raven!” Jinx cut in, whining as usual when it came to the darker Titan. “There were no casualties! Or explosions! That’s really good for me lately.”
Again that sigh crackled over the headsets.
[Rose?]
“There weren’t any explosions.” She shifted gear up one more and hit the max speed she could manage on these semi-crowded streets. They were nearing the bridge to Central City, Jewel of the Midwest.
[Casualties Rose.]
“Oh,” she nodded even though the sorceress likely couldn’t see her. “Yeah, none of those either. If you don’t include Belegromophon. I don’t know… Do you?”
“Rose!” This time Jinx was offended on behalf of their employer. Demon shit’s tricky I guess.
[Different kind of demon. That was more of a ‘thing’ where as I am an actual person.]
“Neat.” This elicited a chuckle from Raven and what was probably a pout from the other rider.
[Sometimes. I guess you’ve accomplished the mission. Any other issues?]
“Not on my end.” Rose replied, matter-of-factly.
“…”
[ Jinx? ] there was an edge to this which made the witch behind her flinch so much it nearly wobbled the bike.
“I may have sorta said the League sanctioned this one and then caused some mayhem in order to bait the cops into lowering their guard and calling for the speedster…” she took a long pause and right before the white-haired merc was sure their erstwhile boss was about to reply. “…and I lost your favourite boots.” This last bit seemed a bit more forlorn now that she was telling it to the person it seemed to entail to.
[Haaaaaa… I guess you need an exit then?]
“That would be much appreciated, Miss Roth. We’re heading in on th-” her speech was cut off by a flash of precognition. A red and yellow flash to be exact. “-e bridge. Bugger!”
Jinx immediately clocked on, for all her eccentricities she was a brilliant mercenary. “Big red one?”
“The biggest.”
[Which bridge?]
“Jinx?” Her senses tingled, letting her know it was coming very fast.
“Yeah I’ve got ‘im. Focus on the driving Rosie.”
“Okay,” Rose tried to focus on the name on the sign as she sped into the lanes crossing over the water. “Secunda? Is that one of them? Secunda Bridge?”
[It is. I’ll materialise in a moment. Black doorway, just drive straight through.]
“Roger that, Ma’am.” She slipped into soldier mode as the stress built up and a red blur raced across the waterfront on the other side. “Oh shit, here we go.”
Time slowed for her as she covered a quarter of the bridge, hunkered down to the fuel tank in an attempt to gain more speed. As if it’ll bloody help. In the moments of molasses time he ran past them, barely visible even with her perception amped up to maximum by the adrenaline rush. Just a blur with a fleshy-coloured dot at the top, which seemed to turn her way for the split of a split-second before a pink flash went off and the hero of the Twin Cities was blown clear off the bridge.
Everything resumed at breakneck speed as the back of the bike slid away from the small explosion and threatened to topple them. Rose screamed as she wrenched it back into position and heard the sonic boom from underneath the bridge just as a shadowy structure rose up from the ground just a few metres ahead of them. Another scream as she pushed the bike to its absolute limit while her partner hollered something in Hindi and hugged her with one arm and-
Darkness. All-encompassing and without temperature. Safe though.
Huh?
-they dropped to the ground in front of the enormous T that their employer made her base, as well as their own temporary residence whenever they were in town. She was still being hugged by her partner’s meta-human grip and would probably have a bruise if her own serum-based abilities didn’t kick in sometime soon.
“Jinx-”
“Hoooooooooo my goddess! What a fucking day!”
“…yuup.” She smiled a little underneath her helmet. “Can you let me go? I kinda need me ribs right now.”
A dark chuckle followed that statement and a shadow spread over the pair of mercenaries.
“Good job Hellions.” Raven stood just above them, hood down and a small smile on her face. “I’m almost impressed.”
“RAVEN!” Jinx leapt from the ground for a hug and was caught halfway by a grey-skinned hand.
“No. I’m still not done with you yet.” The witch whimpered but seemed somehow pleased at the same time. “Rose, there’s a bath and a six-pack waiting in the girls’ dorms.”
Rose for her part peeled her helmet off and stared at the older Titan with one eye. “Huh… maybe you are a goddess.”
“Right?” that sunny British accent back as her partner began to list off Raven Roth’s godly virtues as the subject in question just rolled her eyes. She just laughed at the scene.
Glad to be home I guess.