2013-01-31: Starstruck

Friday afternoons meant one thing and only one thing to a girl named Courtney Whitmore: NO SCHOOLNIGHT CURFEWS! Most kids her age were out partying, riding around with friends, commiserating in the baseball team's latest loss, or at the very least making plans to hang out on Saturday. But for THIS blonde-haired teenager, her nights were spent trolling around New York City looking for crime to fight. Sure, she could have gone to Gotham, or even Metropolis, but New York... well, it just called to her. Besides, she had her eye on NYU, so might as well get used to it and it's seedy underbelly.

The day had dragged on, not much had happened. She stopped a really butch woman from mugging a scrawny pencil-necked guy, she tripped a purse-snatcher and then made fun of him as she returned the stolen bag, and she'd managed to get a puppy out of the stormdrain he had fallen into. The little boy's smile at seeing his beloved pet safe and sound was almost worth the awful odor of the sewers.

Almost.

She'd even managed to get out of the house without her mom spotting her, thus avoiding any accostings about chores or pictures or embarassing childhood videos. But now she was seated on her staff floating over a squat four-story building that was huddling between two nine-story buildings. Across the street from the abandoned warehouse was the 'newest, hottest club in Manhattan'.

Courtney could see people of various ages, all inevitably under 30, but over 21, going in, and there was even a line around the block! Hip-hop stars of varying fame, and a veritable showing of New York's Who's Who among low-A-to-B-list celebrities and 'socialites' were gathered in abundance. Unfortunately, it'd be a while before THIS superheroine got to go in without getting carded. The girl props her chin gloomily on her fist as she watches the revelers.

But little did she know that pulling up to the curve now was a rival gang of one of the rappers, planning their own version of the 2-Pac murders!

Well, she was inside for a bit, but one of the 'who's who' people of NYC decided that she needed some air, and some real food. I mean seriously, one can only have so many mixed drinks before they need seven or eight hot dogs to build up a calorie reserve. Her tummy was grumbling, and Heather decided to make her way out the front doors.

Now, it should be noted, that her agent suggested that she might ... if she were going out anyway... go for a more readily recognizeable look so that she could be more in the public eye. Hence... the bikini top she -almost- wore on the cover of the SI Swimsuit edition. Yeah, the one that was falling off on the cover... she's wearing that along with her favorite pair of bluejeans. Cold? Nah, it hasn't bothered her since the day she got her healing powers

Another thing to note, she really hasn't gone so far as to set up a superhero styling, behavior, or whatnot. She doesn't patrol, she doesn't look for crimes to stop. She just happens to be around when people do stupid stuff sometimes.

Like tonight! She steps outside and flirts with the bouncers at the door, asking if they want something from the little cafe down the block. Her treat! However, her instincts do not betray her. She doesn't have some squiggly line spidersense, but... she does have some training from her bodyguard work... experience to know that something's not quite right the way that car is pulling up, or how it's not stopping entirely but just slowing down. Her blue eyes lock onto the car as she remarks to the guards, "Hey boys. You may want to call your supervisor and have that car checked out." Odds are, it's too late, but if fecal matter hits the rotary wind impeller, she'll make sure -she- is between the car and as many bystanders as possible. That too, is a habit.

The car pulling up slows... slows... enough so that it's barely moving at all! Courtney barely notices it. As far as she knows, it's just because they expect some peeps in front of the club to walk in front of them! Or maybe they're letting some people out. And then about this time out of the club steps Hipster Davey Dee and his entire posse, complete with groupies, hangers-on, and fangirls. It's like half the club is following him out the door, causing Stargirl's eyebrows to rise up as she spots him exiting the door!

BAM! The phone is out with a speed that the Flash might have envied, zooming in to take several pics before most people have time to blink. Then she's on tumblr and twitter, updating her status with pics and posts.

@CourWhit: omg hangin out with HDD!!!1

But that's about the time that the windows roll down, automatic weapons poke out of the dark, low-riding SUV like porcupine quills, someone starts to point and shout, Davey's bodyguards start moving to try and form some kind of shield, and Courtney starts to look up.

That's about the time the first retorts of fully-automatic gunfire starts barking.

At times, it's like you are acting before your brain even knows WHY you are acting. That's how it is for Heather at times like these. She knows it's going to hurt... a lot. But her instincts propel her into motion. One of the pylons used to rope off areas and keep the lines in some sort of formation, is hurled at the car even as she starts to sprint. First in the direct path to the intended targets, and then right at the shooters.

The end result is... well.. messy. The windshield is shattered by the force of the pylon slamming into it. That isn't the messy part though...

It's when the bullets start to strike her that things get ugly. Exit wounds are horrible things, but the bullets are deformed and have lost a lot of their velocity just from passing through Heather's body. In the span of two heartbeats, she's flayed by at least twenty rounds, and ends up lying on her back. However, she did her job and became the target just because she was crazy enough to be in the way and to be charging the car. From your perch on your staff... yeah, that was one short lived charge that ends in a bloody mess that -must- have been fatal.

The good news is, the other bodyguards seem to have moved into position and covered their principle by now.... other bystanders may have some scrapes and such but the lethal velocity seems to have been dulled by the one blonde's suicidal stupidity.

Bullets are lashing out of the car before Stargirl's even moving. She may have incredibly enhanced agility thanks to her cosmic converter belt, but she doesn't have ESP to know when an attempted murder on a rap star is about to go down. She's already leaping off of her perch, the staff coming down with her, now in her hand rather than under her butt, even as a blonde is suicidally rushing towards the car. Despite the impressive feet of hurling the waist-high metal stand that far and taking out the passenger of the car with it, she doesn't appear to be particularly bulletproof!

She does get in the way of the majority of the bullets, though, and Courtney has to grit her teeth in an effort to not simply unleash Cosmic Hell upon the vehicle and fry all within for their casual murder. Most of the bystanders have started running, hit the floor, or are seeking safety inside. The driver stomps on the gas even as Heather falls to the barrage of bullets and Hipster Davey Dee's hulking bodyguards manage to shove him back into the club and form an effective shield for him, bringing up their own guns to begin returning fire. The vehicle begins to pick up speed...

Only to slam right into Stargirl's Cosmicly-powered barrier as it appears right before them. The vehicle hits, crashes, and throws the three in the backseat into the front seat and the two in the front seat out of the windshield! Shoulda been wearing the safety belts. Courtney lands next to the car, between the vehicle and the crowd, bending down to grip the lower side fender.

Stargirl abruptly flips the car over onto its roof.

Okay.. that hurt. Heather blinks once or twice, wounds starting to heal as she sits slowly up. One hand comes up to grip that bikini top. After all, one side is trying to fall off. She holds it in place and watches you flip the car over.

"Whoa girl. That's impressive." she mutters with a bit of a wheeze. Yup, that hole in her lung hasn't fully healed yet.

"By the way... ow!" she adds emphatically as she starts to get up to her feet. She looks back behind her and asks, "Everyone okay? Someone call nine one one!" Of course, any real hip hop star is only going to deal with the cops when he's -forced- to. But the club security... yeah, they might be on the phone already.

Shaking her head like she's clearing cobwebs from it, Heather starts moving towards the car, wounds healing -visibly-, and bullets that didn't fully become through and throughs are being pushed out by the healing flesh and tissue.

More pain though.. but pain has become an almost welcome companion for the model.

The car flips over with the sound of crunching glass and protesting metal. The two thrown clear of the car aren't going anywhere, especially the one who had already been unconscious from Heather's impromptu missile! One of the ones still inside begins to crawl his way out through a side window, uzi in hand.

"Score one for seatbelt safety advertisements." Stargirl quips as she kicks the gun out of the dark-skinned male's hands, then follows up with a bash to the back of his dome form the lower end of her staff. It knocks him out quite handily. If anyone else in the vehicle seemed inclined to keep trying, they weren't giving much sign of it.

A lone siren has started, but it's a long way off, likely a patrol car that had been nearby when the call went out over the APB. Courtney turns, expecting to find a corpse, and instead finds the barely-clad blonde moving TOWARDS her!

Courtney's jaw hits the floor as she gapes, jabbing a finger at Heather's still healing body. "How are you not //DEAD//!? I mean... I'm glad you're safe, ma'am!" She rushes forward like she's about to pick Heather up. "We need to get you to the hospital to get those, uh, rapidly-closing wounds looked at! ...Are you a mutant? 'Cause it's fine! Just... don't see that much."

Staggering a bit, each step Heather takes has her moving a bit more easily. Blood has flowed onto the sidewalk, and there's at least a dozen bullet slugs on the ground near her.... or in her wake. "Mutant?" She shrugs a bit as she keeps one hand there to hold her bikini top in place. "Beats me. I know I wasn't always able to do this, but I have been able to for a couple years now."

She looks about the area and mutters, "What I wouldn't give for a jacket about now.." she mutters, "It's that, or show up on someone's celeb nudity website." She shakes her head and heads towards the car. "Well, looks like they'll survive... but they might not -want- to." By this time, she's pretty much fine, wounds healing without scarring at all. Thank god, that'd just suck for a model...

"You got a way to ... vamoose?" she asks, "If so, I'd love to not be here by the time the photo-ops start up."

"Sorry, I don't keep spare clothes with me..." Courtney's still looking between the blood on the sidewalk and the now-hole-less Heather as if she's entirely dubious on this whole 'not worried about her dying' thing. Bullets bouncing off? Sure, she's seen that. Never passing THROUGH someone and them being perfectly fine!

She gestures a bit with the end of her staff towards the indicated crooks. "Whole 'never kill' thing we heroes got goin' on. Sure you don't wanna get a few thanks from the folks, let 'em know who caught all the bullets from 'em? No?" As much as Stargirl had a fetish for being in front of a camera or ten, the other woman was about to pop out embarassingly in front of everyone and she HAD probably gone through something traumatic. Probably. Healing or no, that's gotta hurt, right? Right?

"Y-Yeah! I can get you outta here. Hope you're not afraid of flying." If allowed, Courtney will simply pick Heather up, one arm under her knees, the other around her back, holding her staff in both hands, and they'll go up-up-and-away! "To the hospital, right? 'Cause, y'know. You just got SHOT. Like a BAZILLION times."

"Normally, sure. But... I wasn't expecting trouble tonight, so didn't really dress for public relations -after- the fact you know?" asks Heather as she holds out a hand. Her intent, to hang on and fly... and then she's scooped up. "Oh hey... this works too I guess. Too bad you're not a hunky guy. I'd totally love to get carried this way by like... Thor or someone."

And when you mention hospital, Heather laughs and shakes her head, "I just need a shower to get all this blood off of me. I'm fine... really. It's what I do..." She smiles a bit and points off in one direction. "My place is over there, Dorilton... top floor. West balcony..."

"You and me both, sister." Courtney mutters at the mention of being carried off by Thor. "I have a few posters of some guys that can save me //any// day! ...But I'll deny it if you tell ANYONE." She vows with a grin as she heads out over the buildings. Normally she'd just let people hang onto the staff themselves for flight, but she had to be a bit more careful with civilians. Especially recently-shot ones, whatever they might say!

The wind rushes by in a hair-tousseling manner as Stargirl seems to fly with effortless abandon towards their destination. Thank goodness the cosmic rod was so easy to use once attuned to her! Nevermind that she knew nothing of how it worked. Courtney lets out a low whistle, her eyebrows raising.

"Swanky! I live in a dump on the backside of nowhere. Being a superhero really should pay better." And with that, she slows and makes ready to alight upon the balcony, Heather points her towards and let the older woman down. "So that healing thing... any chance that's contagious? Like something I could catch?" She sounds almost hopeful of the thought.

The balcony is double doors that lead inside, and Heather reaches for a pocket which she withdraws what looks like a car key fob from. Three clicks of a button and the balcony doors open. "Mind if I walk from here?" she asks with a grin as you land. "And to be honest, I have no idea if it's contagious. I have however... bled on lots of folks and they've never started healing."

"Damn, but I'm hungry... you're right though. Superheroes don't get paid much. Good thing I have two other gigs that -do- pay well." And once inside, the large place has a few items lying around that might clue you in here. One of this is a framed cover for the 2010 Sports Illustrated Swimsuit edition. You know, the one Heather was on. "Care for a snack?" she asks as she heads for her kitchen to start making a Dagwood style sandwich.

"Well, if you insist..." Courtney spreads her hands, one with her hooked weapon in a fist, as the other woman opens her door and enters the apartment. It's at this point that she should really do the cool superhero thing and float off the balcony and into the night with a wave and a well-wish with that little polite smile, a la Superman.

But how often does she get invited into a killer apartment for a snack!? Superheroing 101 wars briefly with teenaged curiousity and ambivalence. And then Courtney goes into the building, holding her staff close to her as she looks around like she'd just stepped into an alien world.

Sure, she'd seen superstars while living in LA, but always from a distance, and never from the 'inside' so to speak. She picks up the framed magazine shoot and frowns at it for a minute. "You gotta any, like, snickerdoodles or something? I was gonna pick some up from the store on my way home. Hey, is this you?"

Brandishing the frame before her, Stargirl bounds to the kitchen counter, waving it a bit to show what she was talking about. "Are you a moviestar or something? Or a twin sister who is?"

Lauging softly, Heather gestures to the cupboards that are literally filled to the brim. She's stacking meat, cheese, tomato slices, more meat, more cheese, oh pickles... then some lettuce and more cheese. Fridge is open before her as she works. her eyes flicker to the framed photo and she nods, "My big break, two years ago. That was -right- after this whole... superhealing thing started up." somewhere on the way to the kitchen, she grabbed a teeshirt that she pulled over her torso. This way she's not flashing you as she works. "I have plenty of sweet stuff. There should be whatever you might like over there." she says, gesturing to the right cupboard. How she eats like that and keeps her figure is anyone's guess.

"I'm actually working on a movie thing. These days I do mostly TV commercials for Victoria's Secret." She picks up her mighty sandwich and takes a large bite, cheeks full of food as she chews and steps back. "Helf yourfelf.." she mutters with her mouth full.

Stargirl sets the framed photograph down on the kitchen counter, not exactly where she left it. But then, judging by the state of her room back in Nebraska, she wasn't really keen on putting things back where they belonged. With the end of her staff, she nudges the cabinet door open and grabs a pack of the proferred cookies. Hey, she DID offer, and the flight home was cheaper than a cab ride, so surely it was only a superheroine's due!

"Yeah, thanks!" Though when she glances at Heather, she can't help but press her lips together in an effort not to laugh, as the woman chipmunking food into her mouth bore little resemblance to a swimsuit model. She makes a 'mouth closed' gesture with her hand. "Okayyyyy, starting to see a little bit why you're single."

"My parents would kill me if I put my mostly-naked butt on TV." Collapsing the cosmic rod, Courtney flounces towards the TV! Why? To paw through the DVD collection! One could tell a lot about a person from their movies. Or so her wisdom would have her believe. "But, uh, maybe I should go... I mean, I'm not sure how long a masked stranger can stay in a house before overstaying their welcome. Call me Stargirl! Did I mention that already?"

Chew chew swallow, "Sorry, healing takes a -lot- out of me. I need to get as many calories as I can afterwards. It's kind of a blessing in digsuise. It means I can eat cheesecake and not put on extra weight." offers Heather once her mouth is empty. "And when I heal as much as I just did... I might hurt someone if they got between me and my food." She takes another smaller bite and sets the sandwich down, "Okay, now that I've got a start on it. I'm gonna grab a quick shower. Hang out, make yourself at home. When I'm done, I think I might have something that might fit you to give you as a gift." she grins, "And I don't do -nude-. Just close to it. My Daddy is my biggest supporter, besides... it paid for all this." she says as she spreads arms to indicate the whole place.

She does this as she walks towards the bedroom and presumeably her shower. She'll only be gone a few minutes though... it's one of those... shower between photo session things she does for sheer speed.

"Um..." Courtney looks decidedly unsure as the older woman heads down the hallway. Was this some kind of supervillain trap? Get the innocent young heroine alone in an apartment and then unmask her!? If it was, it was darned sure working! "Well, she DID say to make myself at home. Maybe I'm just the coolest superhero she's ever met and wants to make sure I don't leave without my number. Well, as long as she doesn't trademark infringe on my look in her next shoot..."

Courtney thinks all of this as she picks up the universal remote. Hey, she didn't really have a curfew anymore (on non-school nights) and didn't have cheer practice in the morning, so why not live it up while the living was good! The young girl flings herself bodily onto the couch while busting open the pack of crumbly cookies and flips through channels. Wouldn't be the first evening she spent hanging around in her costume. Plus, she could tell all her friends at school on Monday that she hangs with models.

Or even sleeping in it.

It might only be a few minutes Heather is gone, but by the time she gets back Stargirl is upside down on her couch with her head hanging off, blonde hair brushing the floor, her boots hanging out over the headrest, stuffing her face with Snickerdoodles while a suitably NC-17 monster movie blares a bit too loudly from the TV. The only thing that would be missing from the picture would be the two scared-to-death kids she was babysitting and letting stay up late, eat junk, and watch scary movies. But Heather didn't seem to have kids.

No, Heather has no kids. She comes out in comfy sweats, hair damp but not dripping. She also has a bikini hanging from a hanger that she holds out. "I had this one made to order when I was seventeen. If you want to try it on, you're welcome to keep it. I only wore it on two shoots, and it's been totally cleaned and all." (totally let you decide what it looks like!)

She eyes the TV and chuckles, "I see you found the movie channels." She steps across the picture and opens the other side of the entertainment center, "I was thinking that if you wanted to save the bikini try-on thing for later.. you might want to try out my new game." With a flick of her wrist, she powers on the Stark-Box and the TV screen is taken over by Dance Dance Baby!

"Mwuh?" Courtney's head picks up as Heather re-enters the room holding up the swimsuit. She has to roll off of the couch, scattering cookie crumbs in her wake as she does so, leaving a half-full pack of deliciousness behind in her wake. This causes her to cough as some of the crumbs try to go down the wrong pipe, making her pound the center of her chest a few times. "Gawd, I think this might cost more than my first car! Y'know, when I get one." And then she adds, under her breath as she takes the proferred item. "Or a driver's license, for that matter."

"It's not pay-per-view or nothin'." She mumbles as she holds up the slinky red object and tries to picture herself in it. Pat would have a stroke, Mike would toss his lunch, and all her friends would turn green with envy! She glances over at the revealing of the game console, then does a double-take as her eyes open wide and the bikini is tossed to the couch along with the cookies.

"NO WAY! How'd you get one of these, they don't even offer them at the retailers in Blue Valley! Geez, Pat wanted me to go into Accounting or some crap, clearly I need to get into //photography//! Or... whatever it is models study. Do they have modeling degrees?"

"Well, you see, I met this woman and she helped me out of a jam. Turns out I left my cellphone with her by accident. She was going to return it but her boss decided that I need a tech upgrade. He showed up the other night with her in tow and well... her boss is Tony Stark." Yeah, rich folks -do- tend to hang out a lot. But Tony hangs out with models all the time. "And no, I didn't earn this the hard way. He was trying to get me to go out to dinner with him." she smirks a bit, "I think I might take him up on the offer though. He even gave me the new Starkphone model too!" She adds with a bit of teen glee still left in her.

"And it's not something you go to school for. It's more... well, the right person in the right place making the right discovery. I'm shopping around for a new agent, want me to put a good word in for you when I get one?" she asks as she rolls her neck, picks up the sandwich and takes a bite before gesturing to the TV. The motion sensor is on and waiting for someone to come into the pickup for dance time.

"SaywhAAAAAA?" Stargirl visibly leans back at the mention of Tony Stark just happening to drop by and upgrade who knows what doohickeys in the house. Pat was pretty nifty with a wrench, but she was also pretty sure STRIPE couldn't hold a candle to the Iron Man suit on any level. Not being a billionaire probably had something to do with that. "Arrrgh, why couldn't we move to New York instead of stupid Blue Valley!? That tears it, I'm going to NYU in the Fall, I don't care what kind of scholarships the Wayne Foundation offers!"

From her knees in front of the Stark-Box, Stargirl looks over her shoulder with a frown. "Date? Like, date-date? Isn't Stark kind of skeevy? I mean, I read in USA Today that he dumps girls like every week and sleeps around more than a breeding bull. You should keep him on the string a bit more." She hooks a thumb at the high-tech gizmos. "Make him WORK for it!"

"But yeah, put in a good word for me!" The blonde jumps up in front of the TV and starts trying to figure out how to cycle between songs and artists and finally, half by luck, manages to pick 'Ooh la la la' by E-Rotic. When the dancing starts it's... not pretty. Maybe she's trying to kung-fu kick-box too much, or maybe she's really just spasticly uncoordinated. But Stargirl, aka Courtney Whitmore, is an AWFUL dancer. Her movements are all energy and no talent. "I can like give ya my number and stuff. Think my braces would be a problem? It'll be a while before they come off."

Chuckling at your enthusiasm, Heather inclines her head, "Oh, you're shopping around for colleges too?" she asks with a grin. "Well, I tell you what. You helped me out of a jam, so you come to New York, I'll make sure you and your family get great hotel rooms. If -you- come, you can crash right here." She takes another bite as she listens to you speak and swallows before adding, "Oh, hon.. I'm not sleeping with the guy. He invited me out to dinner. I thought about making him regret his offer to -feed- me." she gestures to the immense sandwich she's working on with a smirk. "Trust me, that -is- working for it. I don't plan to be his next dumpee... just a dinner date once. Y'know? Could always be good to be on his good side next time I do a girl scout fundraiser."

And then you start dancing, and it's all Heather can do -not- to laugh. She just... puts down the sandwich and makes a mental note.. teach this girl to dance. Though she recognizes the style of some of the moves. "Hey, you -are- a cheerleader right?" she asks, it's like she can see itin the way you move. "Less kickboxing. More cheer gymnast stuff for the dancing, eh?" she asks.

"Yeah, mom wants me to go to Gotham, and I guess I could kick some serious crime butt there. I helped stop the Joker and his little sidekick at the University! Maybe you read about it?" Courtney spins around as the song finishes to face Heather with a big, bright, light-up-the-room grin of pride. Probably for the best that she doesn't see how BADLY she scored. "I kicked seriously butt! Also got Changeling's twitter, but he never writes back. Jerk."

She locates a pen (pens are always handy, right) and begins scribbling on the back of an envelope. "Yeah, I cheer for Blue Valley High. I wasn't really into it at first, but then it was kind of okay. Got mom to get off my ass about never doing any 'school stuff'. A little about my grades, too."

When she's done, she's holding out the opened envelope in the model's direction. On it is her cellphone number (registered to Courtney Whitmore), and her twitter (also in her real, legal name). What secret identity? "Call me, okay? I mean, REALLY call me! And not just when you're in trouble! I can show you how to do some of my killer dance moves!" I mean, really, could YOU break the big heart behind that smile by telling her that she sucks something awful?

And with that, Courtney is grabbing up her collapsed rod, extending it, and zipping out the window with a wave. "I gotta make some stops on the way home, see ya! Really cool hanging out! REALLY! CALL ME!" And then the bright blondeness is gone.