"Think you can move a bit, I've got pins and needles in my knees," Avenger asked after a long aching silence. Music Teacher considered their options.
"You sure they'll stay up?" He motioned his head to the rocks above.
"Only one way to find out." Avenger shifted and there was an ominous clunk above. Music Teacher whimpered a bit, having nowhere to run to. His heart hammered in his chest, but then Avenger grinned.
"Our survey says yes! Okay, if you scoot that way, we can probably both lie on our sides. Hope you don't mind being spooned." Music Teacher grimaced, doing his best to scoot. Perhaps Avenger meant to be reassuring, seeing the farcical side of their dilemma. Music Teacher wished he could share it, he was rather too aware of the mountain above. He was certain anyone looking at it would see a huge grin on the side of it as it tried to crush unfortunate heroes. With some delicate manoeuvring, in which knees were held as away from tender regions as they could be, the pair of them ended up on their sides. Not spooning, as Avenger had threatened, rather lying with their backs pressed to the rock all around.
"You're filthy, Music." Avenger reached out a thumb to rub at the black dust around Music Teacher's eyes, "want to play noughts and crosses?"
"You what?" Music Teacher gave him an incredulous look. Was it just that Avenger was invulnerable that he managed to not be terrified out of his wits over his prolonged, but very impending doom?
"Well, it'll help pass the time right?" Avenger smiled. Music Teacher sighed deeply, then coughed again. Passing the time to their deaths playing childrens games. Why not indeed? He nodded and Avenger drew the grid in the sand between them. Music Teacher put a circle in the middle.
"You wouldn't be here if you hadn't jumped under a pile of falling rocks. Nutcase," he muttered. Avenger put a cross above the circle.
"Well, all of us would be here if you hadn't yelled the others back down the tunnel. How'd you do that anyway? Never heard you do that before," he kept his tone light, conversational. Music Teacher shrugged.
"I used to do it more when I was just starting out. But it just hurts my throat too much, so I stopped doing it. It takes more oomph to throw someone with the resonance than to injure them," he said quietly, putting a circle on the left of the cross. Avenger moved to put a cross in the bottom right, blocking off the diagonal.
"Oh yeah, you're a natural aren't you?" He regarded Music Teacher thoughtfully while he put a circle in the middle left.
"Guess you could put it that way. I just filled in that box on the registration form because I didn't think I was any of the others. Why, what are you?"
"Oh, I'm a mutant." Avenger frowned at the grid, then grumbled as he realised whatever move he made now, Music Teacher had won.
"What's that like? Being a mutant I mean?"
"What kind of question's that? What's it like being you?" Avenger took his hat off his head and inspected it for damage. He looked cross as his finger found its way through a hole and wiggled at him from the inside. Music Teacher gazed at the game between them.
"Lonely," he said it so quietly it was almost lost in the sound of distant rocks settling and their mutual breathing. Avenger only just heard it, and even when he turned to look at him, it was as if he was wondering if he'd heard correctly.
"Why are you lonely?" he asked. Music Teacher wanted to say that he was in love, and there was nothing he could ever do to get the other's attention, and that he was ugly and a coward and had a hundred other faults so dire that nobody would ever love him. He managed to keep this to himself, just shrugging slightly.
"Relationships don't last," he mumbled. They'd last a bit more if he didn't have such a repugnant personality, sex could only forgive some of his flaws. Avenger patted his shoulder a bit awkwardly.
"Well, maybe you've yet to find the right girl," he tried to sound upbeat on it. He wasn't really the counselling type, Music Teacher would be better off going to his sister about this. He winced internally. The right girl was certainly not about to enter his life, nor was he even looking for her.
"Er
Avenger
I'm not into girls," he said quietly. He didn't know why he'd even said it. Don't ask, don't tell was his favourite way of dealing with it, as it was mostly everyone's favourite way of dealing with it. He wasn't ashamed of it, he just didn't want any unnecessary aggravation.
"Okay, right guy then." To Avenger's eternal credit, he didn't bat an eyelid. Music Teacher was slightly thrown off by it, as customarily people would tentatively ask 'so, you're [censored] then', as if he had other reasons for not being into girls. Like maybe he was an ordained priest, or had lost his balls in a childhood accident, or found only ceiling tiles to be arousing. Perhaps all three were more social acceptable in some circles.
"And you have a flat mate, and all of us, right? You won't be lonely forever, Music. Promise." Avenger grinned, like he really believed it. Music Teacher let his head rest on the sand. He might as well play the game of Hope for a bit, it would help pass the time.
Don't ask me about joining Honourable United, I'm lazy. Ask Captain Cathode.
http://www.onthejazz.co.uk/honu/
"If I had a punch, I would so hit that guy." - Millenium (because drinking nail varnish remover is for real men)
"I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with 'R'."
"Rocks."
"Yeap. Your go."
"I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with 'M'."
"Me!"
"That's not the word I'm thinking of."
"Midnight Avenger!"
"Your go," Music Teacher said, his arms wrapped around him tightly. His body was so tense from the cold that now even shivering was painful. As predicted, his abdomen was painful and his bruises were darkening. He wanted to heal himself, but was frightened over what the sound might do to the delicate balance of rocks above them. He watched his breath plume from his mouth. How long had they been like this? Lying on cold sand, smothered by cold rock, entombed in a cold mountain.
"I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with
'Q'."
"Quartz," Music Teacher's eyes drifted closed, the cold was draining away his energy.
"Nope."
"Quantum gun?" Music doubted he could see one of those, but gave it a try anyway, then he got it and reached over to smack Avenger's shoulder with his hand, causing the other one to laugh.
"Unfeeling *******. Queen?"
"Yeap!" Avenger pretended the hit had hurt, mostly to mollify Music, and rubbed it. Music rested his head on the sand, looking up at the rocks above. Were the others alright? Had the steep curve of the cave protected them from the shockwave?
"So why'd you become a hero anyway?" Avenger asked, breaking the thick silence between them. Music looked at his hands for a moment.
"Because
because I should," he said quietly. Avenger turned his head to look at him.
"You should?"
"I have
a gift, you might say, or a curse. And once upon a time, in a land far, far away, someone died because I didn't have any control over my gift. I was only a little kid, but
they still died, and I was still the one who killed them." Music looked very hard at the stones above. They were going to kill him, not now, but soon, and he'd rather die with a clear conscience now he had the time. Avenger looked surprised, then hesitated before speaking.
"Who did you kill?"
"My mother." Silence settled again, then Avenger drew a quiet breath.
"What happened? Do you even remember it? You were two, three?" He sounded like he wasn't sure he wanted to know, but was asking in case Music wanted to talk about it.
"Seven. And I remember. Can't really forget something like that. God, I need a cigarette and bottle of Jack Daniels." Music reached up and rubbed at his face, scraping his fingers through his beard to clear it of some dust and sand. Avenger was quiet, watching him reach into the back pocket of his utility belt and pull out a slightly dented hipflask. Music unscrewed the cap and took a swig before offering it over. Avenger took it silently and drank some of the bourbon, feeling as in need of it as Music did after that confession.
"My father was a telecommunications expert with the Royal Marines, stationed out in Indonesia. My mother was from New Delhi, and they'd met, fallen in love and married when he'd been stationed there. Anyway, there was an earthquake, and as my mother ran to grab me out of the shaking house, I was so scared I just
screamed. She flew backwards into the wall and broke her neck. Killed her outright." Music's hands shook as he took the flask back and he gulped a few more mouthfuls.
"Jeez
what happened after that?"
"Nothing. Half a building fell on my father so
he never even found out. I was sent back to England and then sent to an orphanage in Scotland. Stayed there until I was sixteen." The sudden alcohol on an empty stomach both warmed him and went straight to his head, loosening his tongue, "S'why I can't use it against people. When I found out I could use it to make people better, I just
had to do it. I didn't want to have a gift that was only good for murder. But sometimes I get scared and I can feel it rising up again and sometimes it just bursts out before I can stop it." Avenger regarded his profile, then reached out to rub a tear from his cheek, it had left a trail of cleanliness in its wake. He felt somewhat responsible for the tear, as he doubted Music would have started talking about it if he hadn't been so curious.
"How'd you end up in Paragon if you lived in Scotland?" Hopefully this would be a less painful subject to talk about. Music shrugged.
"Band I was with came out here looking for fame and fortune. I sort of dropped off the listing for
various reasons. Just drifted here really. After the war, rent was dirt cheap, and there's a surprising number of people who want to be tutored in piano and guitar," he swigged from the flask again. Avenger took it off him, if only because dehydration might be a serious issue soon.
"So what made you take the final step and become a hero?"
"Nothing really. Just watching the news, a hero'd been killed and
I wondered if I would have been able to save him. If using my abilities would have helped him live. The chances are slim to none, but it was enough to get me thinking, that since I'd gone to the effort of teaching myself a bit of medical know-how, nothing fancy, just first aid stuff really, and
what was I talking about?" Music hiccupped a bit, and the smell of bourbon laced the air. Avenger took the cap out of his hand and screwed it on, hiding the hipflask in his own back pocket.
"First aid and heroing."
"Oh, yeah. So I just figured I might as well give it a go. Got on the train to Atlas Park, stood in a queue of must have been twenty other hopefuls, got registered and was whisked off to some basic training."
"Forgive me for saying so, but
you're not particularly adept at fighting. How did you get through basic training?"
"I got a few guys to help me. Apparently the skill to form a team and lead it successfully through a series of tasks is a talent they feel merits the Hero License." Music hiccupped again, now it was the alcohol making him sleepy as well as the cold. Avenger propped his head on one hand.
"Just one more question."
"Shoot."
"Why do you have a hipflask of Jack Daniels in your utility belt?"
"Dutch courage. Got none of my own, after all." Music's voice was trailing off, and it wasn't long before he staggered into a world of dreams.
Don't ask me about joining Honourable United, I'm lazy. Ask Captain Cathode.
http://www.onthejazz.co.uk/honu/
"If I had a punch, I would so hit that guy." - Millenium (because drinking nail varnish remover is for real men)
Avenger felt supremely guilty, Music Teacher was a bit caustic sometimes, but his gruff front always disappeared when someone was in pain or hurt, and he was usually so kind and gentle-natured that Avenger hadn't even considered the idea of him having a painful past. He half wished he hadn't brought it up, as it clearly still upset him. How did someone start to cope with the fact they'd killed their own mother? Maybe he really was insensitive and Music Teacher's history was written clearly for anyone else to see. He couldn't quite credit that though. Everyone had their sob stories, their secret shames. You couldn't be super-powered and always have a clear conscience, the power always escaped your control at least once. Least, that's what he thought. A slight moan drew his attention back to the slightly shorter man. Music was shivering and from the sounds of things, was having a bad dream. Avenger hadn't really noticed the cold, then he noticed his breath pluming before him and he pulled a face. He reached over and pulled Music against him, wrapping his jacket as far around him as it would go. When his hands touched the bare skin of Music's arms, he was shocked to find them almost icy, he rubbed at them slightly. Had it really gotten so cold? Night must have fallen.
"No
Oscar
stop
" Music mumbled, his slim body shuddering in Avenger's arms. Avenger wondered who Oscar was, then realised he really was spooning Music, as he'd predicted. It almost made him laugh. Then Music jolted awake, banging his head on Avenger's chin.
"Ah, what?" Music looked down in befuddlement at the arms curled around his own and the purple jacket spread over him. Then of all things, he blushed darkly.
"A-Avenger, what are you doing?"
"You were freezing, thought I should warm you up a little." Avenger managed to keep it light, many people would see innuendo in his position, but he really did mean it innocently and would like it to be received as such.
"Er
th-thanks?" Music lay there quietly, listening to the flow of blood through Avenger's veins, the beat of his heart and the gurgle of his empty stomach. He frowned slightly, straining his ear as he turned his head to press his ear to Avenger's chest.
"What are you doing?"
"Shh, your sound's off." Music closed his eyes to better focus on the minute disruption he could hear, a slightly higher pitch to the blood flow, "You have cholesterol lining some of your piping. Want me to deal with it?"
Avenger opened and closed his mouth, stunned that Music could actually hear that, and that he even had cholesterol. He had a healthy diet, more or less. Most of the time.
"Er
sure." He was further surprised when Music turned over in his arms and undid two of the buttons on his shirt, removed his glove and pressed his palm to his sternum. A feeling of warmth radiated from where the cold hand touched him, melting through his body in waves. It was soothing and relaxing and Avenger half-wished he could purr like Jakey, as that would exactly express how the warmth made him feel.
"There, it'll wash out your body in a few days," Music said, taking his hand away from his chest and pulling the glove back on before doing up the buttons again. Avenger frowned slightly, he'd noticed what looked like scarring on Music's hands, quickly hidden by the gloves. He chose not to ask about it just yet.
"Thanks, what did you do?"
"I vibrated it, breaking it down into safer chemicals that your body can cleanse itself of and dissipated the energy produced. Nothing fancy." Music hadn't rolled over in his arms yet, still facing him. Avenger looked thoughtful.
"That's pretty precise. How sensitive is your hearing anyway?"
"It's not just my hearing, it's my whole body. I'm just
sensitive to sounds, even ones I can't pick up with my ears, they still make a vibration that I can feel."
"Does that mean you can echo-locate?" Avenger thought that would be the coolest thing ever at that precise moment in time.
"I guess so. Haven't had cause to try. I can hear Nictus and Kheldians too." Music said the last bit quietly. Avenger knew of course what he was talking about, heroes encountered the energy-based aliens frequently, usually in a human host body. They were originally the same race, but the Nictus were more aggressive in their tactics, and frequently took the bodies of unwilling hosts, ironically enough, with the same assumption of superiority that humans used against most other life-forms.
"How?"
"They give off a particular frequency, I can't tell the difference between them yet, I just know when someone has one," Music yawned, still a bit tired. Avenger could feel cold air between them and tugged him against his chest, adamant in his desire to keep the other warm and no amount of cholesterol or spot the alien was going to distract him from that. Music squeaked slightly, blushing.
It must have been an hour later, or maybe two, there was no real way to tell.
"Who's Oscar?" Avenger asked finally, the way Music tensed up in his arms indicated that this might be another rocky ground. Somewhat appropriate for the setting.
"No-one." Music muttered.
Another hour passed.
"Who's Oscar?" Avenger asked as if he hadn't asked before.
"He's no-one."
A few more hours passed.
"So, who's Oscar?" Music just buried his face in Avenger's shirt and reached a hand up to show him his middle finger.
"You're not going to shut up until I tell you are you?" his voice was muffled in the shirt. Avenger grinned.
"No."
"Fine. He was my lover." Music hoped that'd be the end of it. Avenger looked thoughtful.
"What did he do to upset you?" He felt Music tense up in his arms, but when he didn't answer he went on, "I know I'm not the most sensitive guy on the block, but people don't usually have nightmares about people unless they've got troubles."
Music groaned.
"I wish you'd just let the rocks crush me, I really do."
"Did he hurt you?" Avenger didn't have much rationale for being protective of Music, other than he was timid about fighting yet still rushed into the fray if one of his friends was in danger. As someone to whom being invulnerable was order of the day, he admired those who would put themselves at risk for someone else, despite the very real danger of them being hurt or killed outright. It was as heroic as could be.
"Could say that," Music's voice was quiet. Avenger looked down at him questioningly.
"What happened?" Music pulled off his gloves in answer and showed Avenger his hands. Old, gnarled burn scars littered the palms, and on the backs were long thin scars like knife wounds.
"Wh-why?" Avenger was appalled, taking one of the hands and looking it over.
"Doesn't matter."
"Of course it matters, the [censored] attacked your hands! That's criminal!" A glittering ran over Avenger's skin as he thought about what he might like to do to someone who could treat a friend of his so callously. Music was a musician, he needed his hands to support his livelihood. To attack them and injure them so badly was craven and cruel to the extreme. He wanted to smash this 'Oscar's face in, see how much he liked it.
Music was worried, the only times he'd seen Avenger this angry was usually before something got smashed up. He put his hands on his chest and closed his eyes. Immediately a wash of warmth curled through Avenger, then followed by an acute, almost spasm, of good feeling. It was like a head rush of pleasure, and Avenger unwound immediately.
"What
the hell was that?" he asked, feeling lazy and good and warm and cheerful. Music scratched his cheek.
"Um
I stimulated the pleasure centre of your brain to release endorphins."
"You can do that? That felt nice," Avenger grinned, feeling silly. He hadn't forgotten 'Oscar', but he would have to wait for his pummelling, right now was too warm and blissful.
"How the hell do you find out how to do all this stuff anyway?" Avenger asked after a while. Music blushed.
"Well
that one I came up with after reading the karma sutra." He really wanted another drink, and reached around Avenger to take his hipflask back.
"Cool. Hey, are you groping me? The cuddling wasn't an invitation." Avenger chuckled merrily and rolled onto his back, putting the hipflask out of Music's reach. Music squeaked, yanking his hand out from underneath him and shaking it ruefully.
"Oh c'mon, just give me my JD back."
"Oh I see how it is, you give me happy zap powers so you can get your hands into my underwear. Low, man, real low," Avenger said, grinning like an idiot. Music scowled, sitting astride him and twisting to the side, trying to peel him off the floor so he could work his hand under.
"It's not in your underwear, don't flatter yourself." Avenger shifted, reaching his own hand under him.
"It is now."
"Don't make me really happy zap you, Avenger, you'll be a giggling mess before five minutes is up and I'll win."
"You can call me Adam." That threw Music, and he paused in his hunt for his hipflask, one hand under the small of his back and the other braced on the sand. He looked at Avenger's grinning face. Heroes did not tell each other their real names if they went by an alias, it was part of the unwritten rules. For the names to be exchanged meant something, that a closeness had been established that went beyond the deep trust of a team.
"M-my name's Matthew
" Even in his wildest fantasies, he'd never envisaged a scenario where Midnight Avenger would tell him his real name.
"I hope they get us out of here soon, I'm busting for the little heroes room," Avenger, Adam, said. Music, Matthew, sighed, feeling like the moment had passed with declarations of desired bodily functions.
Don't ask me about joining Honourable United, I'm lazy. Ask Captain Cathode.
http://www.onthejazz.co.uk/honu/
"If I had a punch, I would so hit that guy." - Millenium (because drinking nail varnish remover is for real men)
"How long's it been?" Lady Rapture asked as Arktos carried another barrow of stone past to tip it in a side tunnel. The quiet cave had become a veritable construction site, filled with heroes wearing the same super group colours. Those who had mastery over stone or gravity were using them to clear the way, while those with great strength picked up shovels and got to work. A group of close combat specialists were leaning on their shovels, drinking hot tea and soup provided by the newer members or those who couldn't get to the digging, resting after their shift.
"Seventeen hours." Arktos tipped his barrow. Strike came over with two mugs of soup.
"They think we're getting closer, apparently someone's probe thingy can see dim heat signatures and Midnight Gaze has a 'feeling'." He handed them their soup and Lady Rapture sipped it delicately.
"Are we close enough for me to be able to teleport them out?"
"Soon, they're just trying to get a fix for you," Strike pulled a thermos out of his belt and started to drink. Arktos rumbled.
"I'm glad there isn't a squabble over who gets to beam them out. It would be most uncivilised."
A few moments later, Midnight Gaze strode over with Jakey K, both were leaders of the super group, and technically in charge here.
"Lady Rapture, we've located them and cleared a space for you to deposit them, could you come with us?" she asked, looking stylish despite the dusty conditions and general aura of concern. Lady Rapture swept to her feet, flashing a smile at Gaze's diminutive companion before nodding. Gaze led her to the cleared space, several of the groups varied healers were hanging by, but with Gaze there, it was unlikely they'd be needed.
Lady Rapture took her position in the limelight and spread her hands out.
"Recalling Music Teacher to our presence," she made a motion like she was grabbing at the air, black purple vapour hissing up from her hands and nothing happened. She huffed in an aggravated way. On the sidelines Raphael De Arca raised an eyebrow.
"Too much rock in the way, maybe?" he looked at Gaze, who frowned and shook her head.
"That stubborn, weakling, craven coward," Lady Rapture managed to keep her teeth together, so it came out as a hiss. She didn't know quite how Music avoided being teleported, but it annoyed her that he did and would and just had. Stuff him then. She took a deep, calming breath and centred both parts her mind, the Nictus wanted to try Music again, he amused it and it wanted to play. Rapture ignored it's request and focused on Midnight Avenger. She yanked with her hand and there was a rush and roar of displaced air and he dropped onto the floor, filthy from head to toe and coughing, his tie was slightly askew and his hat was battered and full of holes.
"Venji!" Jakey grinned and bounced over, hugging the man around the head before Gaze physically prised him off and helped her twin brother to his feet, saying quiet words only for him and guiding him over to get some water and blankets.
Lady Rapture was almost tempted to leave Music there, would teach him to ignore her summons, the ungrateful wretch. The Nictus insisted it wanted to play, so she pouted a little, then spread her arms again, the vapour curled and there was a whoosh and a thump and a squeak as Music Teacher popped out of the air in a cloud of nictus. He looked pale and filthy and smelled of bourbon.
"Muse!" Jakey pounced Music and hugged his head as well. Music hiccupped, and let his flatmate pull him to his feet and guide him over to get hydrated and warmed up. Lady Rapture tossed her hair back.
"You're welcome!"
"You know they probably can't talk from lack of water, right?" Strike appeared at Rapture's side, hands folded behind his head. Rapture pouted in a pristinely gorgeous way.
"That's not the point."
And how it wasn't.
Don't ask me about joining Honourable United, I'm lazy. Ask Captain Cathode.
http://www.onthejazz.co.uk/honu/
"If I had a punch, I would so hit that guy." - Millenium (because drinking nail varnish remover is for real men)
Epilogue
The phone rang under a pile of music books and score sheets, Matthew lunged for it from his place on the saggy sofa, but Jakey reached it first, snagging the handset off the hook and darting out of reach of Matthew's flailing hand.
"Hello?
Oh hi Venji!" Jakey grinned when there was a thump of Matthew falling off the sofa, flicking his tail out of reach as well. The cat man nodded a few times, picking up one foot as Matthew tried to grab it.
"Oh he's in the shower, exfoliating or something. I think he's got a date tonight.
Yeah, some guy he met at the convenience store
MRRAAAOOW!" Jakey dropped the phone when Matthew bit his tail hard. The music teacher caught the handset and put it to his ear.
"Don't listen to him, he's a lying filthy toerag!" he yelled, panic-stricken. A collision of four foot high cat man slammed him off his feet and they hit the sofa, going over in a shower of papers and empty cups. The handset dangled on its cord.
"What are you two on about? Hello? Hello? Are you there?" the tinny voice of Strike came through as it bobbed back and forth. Matthew and Jakey fought wildly, biting ears and pulling shirts and rolling into walls and furniture with such wild abandon that they missed the first knock on the door. After the second they both stopped what they were doing, Matthew's hand in Jakey's face and Jakey with a mouthful of his sleeve.
"Was that the door?"
"Mmrrmm?"
"Get off, you raging flea bag." Matthew boosted Jakey off and hurried out of the living room into the hallway and peeped through the spy hole. He gulped when he saw who it was on the other side, then opened the door.
"A-Adam, hi
" he could hear the thump of the sofa being righted and tried to grin innocently. Adam tipped his hat.
"Hey Matt. Erm
I wanted to ask you something. See, there's this
movie on. Supposed to be pretty good, and Gaze is washing her hair or something tonight and I hate going alone so
would
you come?" he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Matthew opened his mouth for a minute, then closed it again, then spoke.
"Sure, what movie is it?"
"Phoenix Rising."
"Oh yeah, I heard about that. How long we got?"
"Half an hour."
"Alright, come in and I'll get changed into something less mauled." Matthew waved him in and closed the door. Adam looked surprised at the amount of houseplants and stacks of paper all around, he picked one up and looked at the musical score, completely with annotations, it all looked very complicated.
"Jake's in the living room, being a rascal again." Matthew motioned to one of the doors off the hall, then disappeared through another, closing it softly behind him. Adam peered around the frame.
"Hey J, what are you up to?"
"Tormenting Music with his unrequited love for you. Why?" Jakey was now back on the phone to Strike. Adam's eyebrows raised.
"His what for me?"
"Venji, open your eyes, he's stupidly in love with you. Duh! What? You saw a cat stuck where?" Adam assumed the last part to be directed at the man on the other end of the phone. He looked thoughtful, turning to look when Matthew emerged from his room, wearing jeans and a tee-shirt. Matthew frowned a bit.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Not a thing, everything's just fine. Everything's
great." Adam smiled, letting Matthew lead them out. He put his arm around the smaller man's shoulders and hugged it tightly, grinning.
Don't ask me about joining Honourable United, I'm lazy. Ask Captain Cathode.
http://www.onthejazz.co.uk/honu/
"If I had a punch, I would so hit that guy." - Millenium (because drinking nail varnish remover is for real men)
very good story i actually read the whole thing 
Originally posted on the Honourable United Forum, a little bit of light-hearted relief after a few, emotionally fraught fictions were shared. It's 'cute' apparently
Cave In
The caves stretched on and on, their drab grey stone and cold volcanic sand dragged on everyone's mood so the group who walked through alleviated their boredom with banter. Sometimes it was witty, if they were lucky, otherwise it was mostly just dumb, but nobody minded. It just reminded each other that they weren't alone. The group looked relatively normal, but they were heroes. Not the dictionary sense, these were heroes who could comfortably put 'super' before it and come away smiling. From the mighty strength of one who called himself Arktos, to the alien possessed duality of one who called herself Lady Rapture, the invulnerable skin of Midnight Avenger and the hyper-sensitive eyesight of Strike, they were all great and powerful. At the back of the group, floating several feet off the ground came the one called The Music Teacher. The inaudible cushion of sound he rode on made the sand below displace slightly, like a breath of wind, barely noticeable.
"I can almost understand why someone would want to blow these tunnels up. They're as boring as sin," Strike muttered, pulling off his baseball cap to shake rock dust off it, as if that was going to stop it acquiring more. Lady Rapture, the most diminutive member of the group at a bare five foot, giggled.
"Strike, darling, sin is never boring if it's done right." The inky depths of her eyes sparkled with vapour momentarily, as the energy beast within stirred.
"And she should know, she's sinned with the best of them," said Midnight Avenger - just Avenger to most - affably.
"And the worst, darling." Rapture skipped ahead and vaulted onto Arktos' broad, bearlike shoulders. She perched there and tossed her hair back with the utter confidence of a woman who knows she's devastatingly attractive. At the back, Music Teacher grumbled something.
"What's it take to find a little incendiary device around here?" Strike asked finally, his boots sinking into the soft sand as they clambered up a slope. Music Teacher's bare feet soared past his face and he watched a little enviously as the other man glided over the rise. Flying did not always get the best reputation in hero circles. Perhaps it was envy on the ground-pounder's side, but those that flew, or Fliers, were seen as arrogant. Certainly, a lot of Fliers looked down upon the Sprinters, Zappers and Jumpers with disdain. How lowly they were, running and teleporting and leaping through the city. A Flier had the whole sky to play with.
"Don't go too far ahead, Music, don't want you getting hurt," Avenger called lightly. Music Teacher rolled his eyes.
"I'll scream if I get into trouble," he said. And he would. Nobody had ever called Music Teacher a coward, but they had certainly never called him a titan of courage before either. Unlike most other heroes, Music Teacher's only defence was sound, but he had spent most of his years refining his sonic manipulation ability into encouraging the body to heal. The right frequency of vibration could work miracles on the flesh, he'd learned this years ago, and now used his skills to heal his fellow heroes, even if he had little offensive capacity other than yelling at someone so hard he made their ears bleed.
Away from the never-ending banter, innuendo and gossip of the group, Music Teacher closed his eyes. Previously they'd noticed his mood, though perhaps only Lady Rapture had perceived the cause of it. Perhaps it was because she was a woman, or maybe she was more observant than she came across as. Music Teacher was in love, and he didn't want to be.
His music didn't suffer when he was happy, it just became lighter, more buoyant to suit his mood, but this love was one he felt prohibited from. He tried to force himself to consider the psychological ramifications of his work on a relationship. When he'd been just a tutor for kids wanting to learn music, it'd been easier. He'd had a few relationships, none particularly serious. It had been okay. He'd only felt this besotted once before, and even then, he'd been young and foolish and idealistic. This was a more mature love, and it threatened to devour him.
"Do you see any bombs?" Arktos called after him as they continued to clamber their way up against the flow of black sand. Music Teacher paused in his flight and cocked his head. There was a sound that came to his hyper sensitive ears. He frowned tightly, listening. Up the rise, Arktos' bald head and the top of Avenger's hat came into view as the two men crawled over the top. Once they were up, Arktos immediately turned to hold his hand out to Strike and received the huge, heavy duty gun from the sniper. He handed it to Lady Rapture who fell over under its weight with a squeak. Avenger started to walk over to Music Teacher, dusting off his hands and knees.
A bending sound above, a crack.
Music Teacher's eyes flew open as the vibration through the air touched his skin. He twisted midair and suddenly howled. In the close quarters of the tunnel, the sonic wave multiplied and echoed over itself, creating a wall of pure sound. The sand was thrown up in a cresting wave before it. Avenger's eyes widened and he braced for the impact, throwing his arms up before his face. The sound wave hit him, coloured sparks being thrown off as the energy was forced to part by his invulnerable skin and bone. Behind him, having had no warning, Arktos and Lady Rapture were thrown wildly over the edge. Strike yelled in shock when the wave smashed overhead, throwing the sand he was clinging to into a full downward slide.
Music Teacher felt the small pain of the howl in his throat, opened his eyes and saw Avenger, there wasn't enough time to verbalise a warning, the vibrations from the detonation above were drumming down on his skin, raining promises of a swift crushing death.
Something hit him around the middle and he felt the slam of the ground on his back, then the world was filled with sound that tore through his body, sound too loud for just his ears to cope with. It lasted for an eternity of heavy, crushing cacophony, and then silence thick with the sound of displaced air.
He was still alive. Discomfort proved it. He was also in the foetal position, with weight above and sand below. Dust raked his throat and he choked, spluttering and coughing.
"Guess we got the wrong tunnel," came a voice that was practically in his ear, pushing its way past the ringing. Music Teacher opened his eye, hissing and blinking out the dust, then looked up. Avenger was the weight pressing on him, the rocks held up by his back, a faint glimmering danced between them. Music Teacher coughed when he drew a startled breath. Avenger really was indestructible. Fancy that.
"You okay?"
"For a man buried under half a mountain, sure," Music Teacher let his head rest on the sand, just existing. He had some bruises, and where Avenger hit him was going to flare up into a nest of pain when it stopped being numb, but he was alive. When he'd first heard the groan of stone above, he hadn't expected to see the next thirty seconds of his life. Now, however, here he was. Still breathing. Trapped under megatons of the Heights, trapped under Midnight Avenger until someone dug them out. This was not shaping up to be a brilliant day.
Don't ask me about joining Honourable United, I'm lazy. Ask Captain Cathode.
http://www.onthejazz.co.uk/honu/
"If I had a punch, I would so hit that guy." - Millenium (because drinking nail varnish remover is for real men)