|They Should Have Called the Aquabats|
|What: Still Figuring That Out|
So there's this figure floating in the air with hair like a huge flapping banner in the breeze, dark-clad, arms crossed. It's a girl, masked, looking down at the bustling traffic with a dissatisfied expression. She's not hiding or anything, it's /Metropolis/ and she's not on the attack, so no one who looks up is particularly bothered. Sometimes there are zoom cameras. After all, 'where's the rest of her costume?'
Add to that a suddenly-appeared girl - another brunette, blue and red leather mod-ish minidress with matching boots and fingerless gloves - who's /right behind/ Aura, looking over her shoulder and looking confused instead of bemused. "What are you looking at? There's nothing /there./"
And since magfield appears at the /same damn time/ as voice, Aura does the midair equivalent of jumping out of her boots. Armflail! And then she /whips/ around, probably almost tangling them both in her hair, bringing her fists back like she's gonna throw a punch-- and then she blinks. "Why are you dressed like you're twelve?"
"I am NOT," comes Matrix's Oh-So-Witty immediate response, even as she starts waving her hands to fend off tendrils of hair; continuing to float there and look confused (now also kind of annoyed). "Why are YOU wearing more hair than fabric?"
"/You're/ wearing more hair than fabric," retorts Aura, crossing her arms again and taking a completely attitudinal stance... in midair. She's really good at pretending there's ground beneath her feet. "I just cover different parts of me, Einstein. Anyway, I was /looking/ at the /city/. If Superman's allowed to do it, so am I."
"You looked all broody and intense," Matrix clarifies. "And you're wearing all that /black./ Either you're a bad-guy looking for puppies to kick and candy to steal from babies or something else annoying," she says almost all at once, then she takes a deep breath and adds a quick, "OR! OR! You're in the wrong place." Point. "Gotham's that way."
"Gotham's for losers," Aura says dismissively, waving a hand. "And black is the new black. I was actually looking for an apartment, but whatever. If you're going to jump to prejudiced conclusions, I'd point you at the Purifiers, but you're flying. I don't think they'd like you."
"They don't like ANYbody," Matrix says with a wrinkled nose. And because she'd rather not talk about them anyway, she returns to the previous topic. And looks confused again, reaching back with a hand to scratch the top of her head thoughtfully - like the friction on her scalp would stimulate brain activity or something. "There are apartments all over. There are six just right there."
"Yes, but they're not apartments I *want*," explains Aura patiently, as if to a four year old. She points, one after another, to various buildings. "First off, I want a penthouse. Or a top floor apartment, if it's awesome enough. But preferably a penthouse. I don't need anyone seeing their downstairs neighbor flying out the window. /That/ one is taken, /that/ one had a murder in it a year ago, /that/ one has a horrible whiny emo band that practices just below it every night, /that/ one has a wonderful view of Hell's Gate, /that/ one needs more redecorating than I'm willing to spend the time and effort on, and /that/ one is too short."
"Have you tried looking in Midtown?" If Matrix catches the tonal shift - oh, forget it. Obviously she doesn't. Something else has caught in her brain. "If you can afford a penthouse, couldn't you also afford to hire someone to spend time and effort decorating /for/ you?" And then, concern. Big eyes, lowered voice, "What's an emo band?"
"Haven't tried Midtown yet, no. I've been in space." Now Aura just gives up on being mean, because a) there's no audience, and b) what??; she sits crosslegged on nothing, propping her elbows on her knees and her chin on her hands, and continues to survey the area. "And I'm not hiring anyone to do the /planning/, they'd /do/ it wrong." Finally, she half-turns her head again, letting one hand drop, and eyes Matrix sidelong. "I'm not entirely sure, other than 'loud and sucky'. Also whiny."
"Is THAT what that is?" Matrix suddenly whips her head around like it's /on/ her or something. "That's /all over the airwaves/ here lately and it's been totally all I can do to not put my fingers in my ears and yell 'LA LA LA LA!'" Yes, she does put her fingers in her ears and yell. For illustrative purposes! "Surely this is some supervillain's plot and /must/ be stopped!"
And Aura's hands get clapped over /her/ ears as she full-body grimaces. Lowering them slowly, she gives Matrix a half-annoyed and half-amused look. "I'd pay good money to see you stop emo. It'd be a public service. It makes otherwise intelligent people cry and stare at their shoes. Who are you, anyway? You're really weird."
"My name's Matrix, and... well, it's a /really/ long story." Matrix shrugs a little, "I think the story is weirder than I am. Maybe as weird. Ok, maybe it isn't but it's definitely weird and would take too long to tell. Basically, I'm Supergirl from a parallel Earth. Crazy things have happened." She's distracted, though, and actively tucks a massive lock of unruly hair behind her ear so that she can try to focus for a second.
"..." This would be Aura just staring for a second. Then she surveys Matrix critically. "You should tell people you're from the sixties. It makes more sense and they'd probably believe it faster. I mean, you have black hair. You don't look very much like Supergirl." There's a pause, and then another dissatisfied look; Aura straightens out and lets her hair continue to do whatever. "Also, Matrix is an okay super-name, but it's a little unwieldy for a given name. So like-- 'who are you', 'I'm Matrix' is okay. But do like... 'what's your name?' 'Mae.'"
"Huh," Matrix says - she's totally considering it. "I was blonde. I was a redhead. I could still BE blonde, but honestly I think there's like, five Supergirls here all ready or something. Have to be different /somehow./" Oh, she's 'different' all right. "There's one of those emo-bands! THEY'VE TAKEN HOSTAGES!"
"--what?" asks Aura, blinking again. "Wait. What?" She squints in the direction that Matrix is looking, and obviously doesn't see anything. "Where? What hostages? Seriously?" Then she mutters to herself, "This is Metropolis. Of course an emo band's taking hostages." Pause. "Should we call the Aquabats?"
"THERE'S NO TIME!!!" and then Matrix is /gone/, off in a streak of red and blue and... off towards Metro Stadium. It's packed. There's a sold out concert there. ... /Hostages?/
Of course. /Of course/. 'There's no time!!!' -- it's the /only possible response/ Matrix could have given. Aura gets this weird look on her face and zooms after the brightly-colored ex-Supergirl, considering pinching herself to make sure she's not dreaming. It's just if she's not, then the bruise would match her costume, and that's just gauche. She absolutely slows as they approach the stadium, deciding that while this is going to be hilarious to watch, she doesn't particularly want to get in the news. "I'll hang back here and make sure they don't slip out the back," she calls ahead.
"GOOD PLAN!" ... and then she lands on stage. It's sort of hysterical, really - people in Metropolis are relatively used to people in primary colors landing out of nowhere, but it's usually when there's /trouble./ They doooon't generally MAKE it. But Matrix opens with a punch to the nose of the lead singer, and then plaintively beseeches the crowd to go home - "You've all been HYPNOTIZED! Can't you see, this MUSIC is TERRIBLE!" ... Of course, things are really NOT going as planned.
In midair! Still! But kind of lurky, peering over the edge of the stadium! Aura's eyes widen, and she has to clap her hands over her mouth to muffle shrieks of disbelieving laughter. SERIOUSLY? This time she /does/ pinch herself, and the hand still covering her mouth serves well to stifle the 'OW'. And then she whispers-- because former Supergirl, she obviously has super-hearing, right? "What if the band is being controlled by a supervillain?"
Super-hearing sure, but no way to communicate from that distance. Which is probably a good thing, because security is rushing the stage - Matrix is very good about not hurting them; mostly because they can't actually DO anything that would hurt HER. She DOES start wrecking musical equipment and microphones while looking for the MASS HYPNOTISM DEVICE. Oh, this is all over the internet of course.
And Aura is shrinkinnnng back, and then grimacing, a lot, and... wincing. And covering her eyes. And then peeking between her fingers. And /finally/ when Matrix is going for the third obscenely expensive amp and the feedback is getting atrocious, instead of just hitting her handstamp and booking it, she thinks 'what would the Outsiders do?' and she looks /really unhappy/.
At long last, Aura flies into the fray, because a fray it is: not just security is rushing the stage anymore. Rabidly offended fans are /flooding/ it. So one magnetokinetic is now grimly trying to hold up a shield over the whole stage-- and she yells, loud as she can, directly down at Matrix, "STOP, THEY'RE GOING TO TRAMPLE SOMEONE. I'LL CALL THE AQUABATS. WE HAVE TO LET PROFESSIONALS TAKE CARE OF THIS."
Security DEFINITELY has it's hands full; skinny jeans, low-top sneakers, and eyeliner are EVERYWHERE. Matrix doesn't seem to hear - she's got an electric guitar raised over her head with both hands, and she brings it down with a loud and distressing crash. THEN she looks up, broken wood in her hands. "What?" Confusion. "/Oh./"
Needless to say, the clean-up is going to take /a while./