2013-01-11: Two Blondes in a Bucket

Hung Over... again. God does this suck or what? The worst part... the loft is out of booze. Carol woke up half on and half off the sofa, the TV playing some old black and white movie for some reason. Her mouth tasted like someone used it to empty the contents of the bar's spill mats into. Lifting a hand to her head, she tried to take a drink, only to find the bottle empty. Looking around... as the headache mounted, she found every bottle empty. With a variety of curses that would leave a sailor blushing, she staggered to her feet and made it to the bathroom where a shower commenced.

Feeling a -bit- more human, she decided to venture out and find a liquor store. The only problem was... it was being robbed. Now.. Carol was craving that bottle on the shelf behind the clerk, and the kid behind her had a gun in her back. She was already in a rotten mood to start with. So wherever -you- are, whatever -you- were doing, the front door of the liquor store explodes with glass as the robber is sent through it and Carol strolls out in her costume now, the gun in her hand as she coalesces enough energy about that hand to vaporize the metal of the firearm. "That's disposed of." she mutters as she eyes the guy lying on his back, staring up at her, "So, what am I going to do with -you-?" she asks.

It had started off as the typical day. Wake up, go to school, get out after a half-day because of something-or-other someone did a long time ago that was now considered a government holiday. Run home to grab the Cosmic Staff and out to do some superheroing! Well, after Courtney Whitmore's mom had made her sit down and eat a lunch so she wouldn't get 'hunger-sick' while fighting crime or some crap. So after a half hour of eating, speckled with making faces at her younger half-sister Patricia, and trading glares with her younger step-brother Mike, the star-spangled teen was finally out the door and out of Blue Valley, Nebraska for GOOD!

Or until 12AM, her curfew barring emergencies.

The blonde-haired teen is sitting on her staff as it moves along only semi-swiftly, an elbow propped on her knee, her chin propped up on her knuckles as she moves along as if she were sitting on a moving conveyor belt. Her parents hadn't really mentioned her hoarse voice, the news, or the livid bruise in the perfect shape of a handprint wrapped around her throat. But she knew they were worried.

But these thoughts are interrupted as the liquor store practically explodes outwards, literally almost right under her butt! Stargirl's blue eyes fan wide and her mouth forms a small 'o' of surprise as a crook is lying on the ground and some woman coming out looking like the Seventh Circle of Hell itself has possessed her.

"Um..." Her voice is raw, barely more than a hoarse whisper as she holds onto the thin staff with both hands and hooks her knees so she can 'fall' and hang upside down a few feet to the side, and a little behind, the costumed Carol Danvers. "Did you do that, or...?" She points towards the would-be robber.

Folding her arms under her bustline, Carol just remarks, "He's lucky that's all I did. Store owner's calling the cops right now." she says with a jerk of her head back behind her. She glares at the crook and says, "No, don't run off now. I'd hate for you to miss -this-." And she just stalks over to where the kid os scrambling to try to back away. "What? Not such a big man without your gun, are you?" she asks as she reaches down and picks the kid up by the scruff of his neck. Yes, the back of the neck like a cat or something. Then she looks over towards you as you approach. A single brow raises and she blinks a bit, "How old are you kid?" she asks.

The masked blonde's eyebrows raise as she looks back at the destroyed glass at the front of the store. She puckers out her lower lip in a semi-thoughtful pout, then turns back to watch Miss Marvel grab the wannabe gunman up like he was a misbehaving feline. Courtney unfurls her legs and lets herself drop to the ground, holding her staff horizontally behind her back as she tilts her head towards the person in the other woman's hands.

"Isn't he kinda dealt with already?" Her scratchy voice is kind of hard to hear, but it'd probably be pretty chipper if her throat hurt less! "...And won't the cops kinda be mad about the store?"

But the question puts her back on her heels a bit, literally, as she folds her arms and scowls, the gold rod staying hovering in place behind her. "I'm old enough to know how to take out a punk like that without destroying the door!" Why did EVERYONE call her 'kid'!?

"Guy tried to shoot a woman in the back, and the clerk... over fifty bucks. I think the insurance will handle the window." offers Carol as she jerks a thumb back towards the store. "Clerk is lucky the woman was bulletproof." She turns her own blue eyes... eyes that could freeze helium.. onto the robber and says, "That's robbery, attempted murder. Two counts at least.." And then she looks back your way and raises her own brow over her domino mask, "Believe me, I held back. This punk just caught me on a -bad- day." And she drops the guy ont he sidewalk as sirens are heard in the distance.

Sirens? Crap. That would mean statements! Urgh, Stargirl hated giving statements. They took forever and involved way too many questions. She places her hands behind her on the staff and lifts herself up like she's sitting on a counter top as her eyes suddenly light up and a brace-filled smile widens like the Fourth of July just hit the city streets.

"Bulletproof!?" The eyes narrow slightly. "Just //how// bulletproof?" Twisting in place, she shifts her position as she lifts her feet and is soon crouching on the staff like a wicked witch on her broom. It turns in place until the end is pointing at the criminal, and then a blast of heated energy fires out! ...And forms an opaque containment shield around him.

"So do bullets really bounce off of you? What about cosmic energy blasts? Do you summon lightning from the sky?" Hoarse voice or no, the questions are coming a mile a minute! "Hey... do you need a ride?"

Snorting, Carol just eyes the oncoming sirens. Then the now encapsulated robber. She shrugs and says, "Not really...." as she starts to simply lift into the sky. It's not that she's ignoring the questions.... heck, if she knew about your reason for not wanting to give statements, she'd point out the irony involved.

"Very bulletproof." she adds. "And ..." she pauses and raises a brow. "That's a heck of a balancing act there kid." she says as she starts heading skyward under her own power. "What do you mean... cosmic energy blasts?" she asks on the way. That is... assuming you're flying up too and not waiting for the cops.

"Huh?" Court looks down at the red belt around her waist and taps it a couple of times as she rides the cosmic staff up into the sky to keep pace with Carol. "I have a fancy belt that helps with that. And I'm not a kid! I'll be eighteen in like six months." She never was very good at keeping her powers and their sources under wraps. Still had a lot to learn.

"I mean, like, if someone shot you with a blast of energy, would you just shrug it off?" She drops back down into a sitting position on her 'broom', barely seeming to pay attention as it steers herself, leaning forward in her eagerness, and to have her scratchy whisper heard over the air moving around them. "Call me, Courtney, by the way!"

Not very good at protecting her secret identity, either. Rookie!

"You picked that guy up, are you strong, too? Super-strong? Like lift tanks and break open vaults strong?" Maybe she had a reason for all these questions. Or maybe she was just overly-talkative.

Okay, even in her hung over bad mood, Carol can't help but enjoy the youth's enthusiasm. She shakes her head, the blonde hair swishing about her shoulders as she does so. "Okay kid..." She raises a brow. "Wow, when I was seventeen, I was already at the Air Force Academy." There's a pause as the nastolgia of the way-back-memory-machine does its work before she mentally switches gears and mutters, "Seems like a lifetime ago." And then she takes a breath. "Wait, your -belt-?" she asks, "And the staff there? They are your powers?" She tsks softly, "Not the sort of thing you oughta be advertising k... Courtney."

She holds a hand out and says, "I've been away for a few years, but got back in the last few months, I go by Ms. Marvel.... and as for the energy blasts... I don't really -shrug- off blasts... it's difficult to explain. That staff of yours... can it -generate- energy? I could demonstrate."

"So you're like in the military?" Courtney Whitmore frowns down at the staff she's riding on for a moment as she considers the advice to not advertise what they could do. Well, the staff was pretty obvious, but the belt, hmm, maybe it WOULD be better to hold that back in reserve. "Oh! Stargirl. That's my superhero name. Stargirl. Nice to meet'cha."

The younger girl rolls off her staff, holding onto it with her hands. It doesn't seem to affect her flight much, though now it's sort of pulling her along more than riding upon it. She really only needed to maintain contact with it, after all. The blue-clad teenager nods cheerfully, "I can shoot, make shields..."

Then she frowns. "I think it makes the energy. But maybe it just manipulates it? I don't really understand how it works. I didn't make it or anything."

"Used to be..." remarks Carol. "Retired. Colonel Danvers, USAF." she offers with a little playful salute. "Worked for NASA and SHIELD since then. But..." she gestures at the black bodysuit costume and shrugs, "A little too flamboyant for a uniform, y'think?" And she eyes the staff a bit and shrugs, "Well, let's just say... I absorb energy like a dry sponge absorbing water. The more I absorb, the more powerful I get. Last time I maxed out my press, I was somewhere around ninty tons lifting too." She isn't so much bragging as answering questions, and taking the time to think about those answers.

The younger blonde is nodding her head along with the answers the other woman is giving, though her eyes start to get bigger and bigger as she mentions absorbing energy to become more powerful. For a moment, the questions stop. And there Courtney Whitmore, aka Stargirl, is floating alongside Carol Danvers, just looking at her with a bright, smug smile. Parents everywhere would know that look: the look of a child who wanted something.

"That. Is. ...AWESOME!" Despite the rawness of her throat, Stargirl still manages to shout her exuberance out, practically leap-frogging over her staff until she's straddling it between her legs with a huge grin. "So you can help me, right? That's what superheroes do, help each other!"

"Pleeeeeeease, Miss Marvel? I have this //problem// that dresses all in black and uses some kind of weird energy-lightning power. I think his name's 'Shazam' or something. Real bad guy, choked me out," She manages to look a little ashamed at the mention of her defeat. "Robbed the Federal Reserve. Maybe you saw on the news?"

Raising -both- brows now, Carol shakes her head, "I've been... well, I've not really had a lot of time to watch the news lately." Truth is, she probably did, but has no memory of it. "I'm not exactly your... greatest role model you know." She scowls a bit and shakes her head once more. "I mean... there are a lot of more powerful types out there. Couple of'em are pretty easy to find. The whole... big S on the chest thing." she says as she sort of draws the house of El symbol out with a fingertip invisibly on her own chest. "Trust me, I'm not the one you want helping you."

Self confidence issues? Self pity? All of that plays into -why- she's a drunk right now.

"Well, sure, but unless you have the Superman-hotline's phone number so I can make an appointment," She gestures airily with one hand as she crosses her legs while seated on her six-foot hooked rod. "I think I'd have to spend a while trying to track him down. He doesn't have a giant symbol I can shine in the sky like some do!"

"I don't need a role model, I'm practically a grown woman! I need a //partner// for this." She jabs a red-gloved finger at the older woman, "You absorb energy, I'm telling you this guy puts it out there like a lightning storm! He uses that ability again and you'll be able to lift the whole city!"

Courtney's secret weapon comes out: big, watery blue eyes shining pleadingly towards Miss Marvel. "I can't fight him by myself. He'll kill me next time. C'mon, just a little help." A hot-pink iPhone comes out, Stargirl popping the cover off as she begins to tap its keys. "Let's just trade numbers and you can think about it!"

Eyes narrowing, Carol shakes her head. "Look, there's a problem with the energy absorption thing. There's a very fine line. If I get too much it's... well it's not good. It's unstable. Last time I overloaded, I barely got high enough before I ... well exploded. Like a nuke. So to be honest, it's probably best that I -not- be around if this guy is putting that much energy out." Excuses excuses. Right now, all she wants to do is buy liquor, go home, and drink. But... that secret weapon is potent.

"Look, I'll give you my number, but promise me you won't just be counting on -me- for this. I'll see if I can't find you some reliable backup that doesn't have power control issues. Someone you can count on..." And she silently adds, someone who won't get you killed.

"That would be perfect!" Stargirl looks up with a giant grin from over the top of her phone, her smile practically shining the sunlight. "He screams out his name like some narcissitic guber and you blow his ass up!" Pat would not approve of such language. "Here, lemme just text you my number." Provided Carol gives Stargirl her own number, she texts her number duly. It's a Blue Valley, Nebraska areacode. It's even publicly listed under 'Courtney Whitmore' in the Yellowpages. Definitely not great at hiding her identity.

"C'mon, we'd be great together. We'll call ourselves 'The Blonde Bombshells'." Snap, snap, and the phone is put back away, leaving Courtney clutching her rod in midair with one hand and hooking her thumb over her shoulder with the other. "I'll see if I can get ahold of those other girls who tried to help me stop him. I bet we can take 'em down with enough teamwork!"

"I was just gonna go cruise over Brooklyn for a while, see what I could see, but, uh, if you got somewhere more interesting to go, maybe I could come! I could help, really, I'm awesome in a fight!"

Yeah, Carol gives the number to text to. It's a secured number though, SHIELD stuff. The phone in the top of her left boot buzzes and she reaches down to pull it out. That's one benefit to thigh high boots to be sure. "Gotcha." she remarks. "And sure, I might blow him up, and the building we're in, and the block around it. How many people would you propose I kill... just to try to hurt this guy who you have a grudge against then?" she asks, both brows raising as she tries to make a point here.

The younger blonde rolls her eyes dramaticly. And not just her eyes, her whole head! Almost as if her eye-rolling were SO powerful it was forcing her entire head to move to keep time with them. "Don't be so dramatic!" Courtney scolds. "We'd do it over the ocean, or desert, or up in the air or something. We could set a trap! Besides, this guy stole a BILLION dollars and killed people in the process. It's not just a 'grudge', he needs to be stopped."

No, it wasn't just a personal vendetta. It WASN'T! This guy hurt people and got away because she was too weak to stop him. Superheroing wasn't just a game anymore. Stargirl was responsible for letting him get away, and no amount of 'there's nothing you could have done' talks from Pat would make that guilt go away. She had to make things right. The victims deserved justice, and that jackass needed to be in jail!

"Look, maybe now's not a good time for you." Courtney's staff wheels about in the sky, turning to face the opposite direction, turning her with it. "I got some stuff I gotta go do!" What stuff? Who knew, she didn't actually HAVE any 'stuff' to do. "But I'll be in touch! He's a bad guy, we're heroes, that means we gotta stop him, right? That's what we do! 'Kay, see ya!"

Even as the rod is taking her away, even with a livid purple bruise on her throat, Courtney Whitmore is offering a winning smile and a wave over her shoulder as her blue, star-studded uniform eventually fades outta sight.

Naturally, this wouldn't be the last poor Carol would have to hear from Courtney Whitmore on a day she had a hangover!