Boom

Quite a spectacle tonight. I was there. Let me start from the beginning.
I went down to the beach with my family unit to catch the fireworks and browse the stands. I got the coolest set of earrings- hoops with a thread snowflake pattern, except in orange. I shall wear them everywhere. My sister got a hot dog, and hopefully asked them to hold the e coli. She's looking a little green, though that might just be from the rest of the evening. I trusted the frozen foods stalls a bit more, and slurped a lemon slushie. The noise is half the appeal of it, and it wouldn't taste quite as good without my sister's annoyance as garnish. Mmm.
We got ourselves settled on the beach away from the speakers blaring obnoxious patriotic music, and got a prime spot right in front of an obnoxious patriotic asshole. You know the type. The one who wishes he were military, and watches war movies all the time, but is far too undisciplined to actually sign up. He got loud, hollering "Bring the rain!" and other slogans while we still had fifteen minutes to go. I didn't turn around, though my I had a few choice words on the tip of my tongue that could have slagged the sand into molten glass. See, I can be polite. It was dark, and we still had five minutes to go when the commotion started. The sea was thick with boats, and I heard hollering from over the waves. Most of the boats had little greenish lights on them, so I thought for a moment they had lifted out of the water. Then the lasers started. Flying robotic hammerhead sharks with rotating laser turrets on their heads. It took a while to process that. The crowd started running pretty much immediately. I wish I could say I stayed behind to protect someone who had fallen and was being trampled. I wish it were that heroic. I stayed because I wanted to see what was going on, and I thought I could tough it out if necessary. Just like all those other idiots left on the beach.
The hammerheads were still about thirty yards out when the asshole behind me started stripping. I noticed it when his pants landed on my towel and he bolted past me, heading for the water. I got a brief glimpse of something I really wish I hadn't seen, and then he shot out over the water like a jet. Exactly like a jet, in fact. Right down to the blistering streams of fire propelling him. I didn't see his next move, because I was about ten feet away from my previous position, blinking the white hot afterimage out of my eyes and shielding my face from the spray of burning sand he kicked up. Yeah, that's Firecracker. Our hero.
He'd pretty much ruined my night vision, so all I saw were crazy streaks of light every time he maneuvered and blasted a shark blimp, but I heard the boats frantically bumping and roaring to get away. The police boats were whooping, the sharks were making an eerie feedback screech, and Firecracker was bawling "Get some!" as the exploding sharks rippled back soundwaves from the condos for double the ridiculous amount of noise. By this time I had enough sense to retreat under a lifeguard hut, since at least two dozen sharks were out over the beach, using their lasers like catfish use their feelers. They weren't burning anything, though I kept my eyes far away from the lights bouncing off the sand. Blindness, you know.
The other people under the lifeguard hut were predominantly male, young, and the type to surf in a hurricane. I don't surf, but we got along fine, whispering commentary and muffled shrieks as if this were a sporting event. In a way, it was. Firecracker was giving a lot better than he got. The sharks mostly veered away from him, sweeping their lasers over the boats beneath. The details got a bit blurry, since a huge cloud of steam from Firecracker's propulsion billowed up around him. Thankfully, none of the boats were that close to shore.
It was hard to keep track of things between the darkness, the flashing lights, the fire and the sand, but Firecracker veered towards the pier, chasing a shark or something. The pier from which they launch the fireworks. We all realized this at pretty much the same time. My response was on the vulgar end of the spectrum, though nobody seemed to hear it since we were all running as fast as we could over the sand, and didn't stop once we hit the boardwalk. I don't even know where the flying sharks went, because I was setting a new landspeed record.
The explosion was immense. No. There aren't words immense enough to describe what it was. It was ten minutes of fireworks, an entire pier packed full of explosives, rolled into one awful moment. It didn't make a sound, any more than a tidal wave makes things wet. It slammed into me, and I felt it in my rib cage, not my ears. Even as far as I was from the pier, I lost contact with the ground. The next thing I know, I was watching a paramedic mouth words at me as she attacked my eyes with a flashlight. Nothing's broken. Just a little shock and some scrapes and bruises. They don't hurt yet. A little blood came out of my ears, but I'm wearing my new earrings and the hearing is back in one ear, mostly. All fine.
My parents are pissed, but also feeling way guilty, since they lost track of their offspring in the crowd, and I've got just enough bruises to play it up for sympathy. I teared up through their lecture, not because anything they said got through to me. I don't know why. The whole evening, I guess. I've barely spoken a word to them, but I'm spilling my guts now and I don't know why I'm crying again.
Stupid Firecracker.

Freaking Out

Something's going on. My laptop started doing creepy stuff last night. I can't attribute this to its usual malevolence, since this is way beyond 'endearing quirks' like losing internet connection with two minutes left on the hour-long download, or pretending that it can't feel me using the touchpad. I was in the middle of typing a post when it LIT UP WITH GREEN FIRE. There was an unearthly crackling aura around the thing, and there was green light coming from the screen. With my usual flawless grace, I scrambled away from it, knocking over my chair, tripping on the ethernet cord, and nearly pulling the laptop off the desk because I was still wearing my headphones. I'm not sure if I was just imagining things because I was scared, but my fingertips tingled where I had been touching the keyboard.
It wasn't just the laptop, either. My window frame kind of shimmered with the stuff, and so did my charging phone. I stood with my back pressed to the wall until it went away on its own in a few minutes. Yeah, I know. Real heroic. Go me, fearless defender of the innocent. But what the hell was I supposed to do about it? Freeze the creepy green light with my wonderful electricity-conducting powers? I don't think so. I'm not even sure what it was. I don't think it was electricity, because my computer is fine and not melted at all. No scorchmarks on the desk, no smoke. The O key is sticking a little bit, but I'm not really sure what that means, or if it's even relevant. I stayed up an hour afterwards, but nothing more happened.
I have no idea what this means. If this was somebody's idea of a practical joke, then they have a great poker face, because I didn't catch anyone smirking today, and I didn't see anyone through the window. If someone just downloaded information off my computer and phone, I hope they enjoy their new music library (among other things...). I'm not too keen on putting my phone anywhere near my ear ever again, but it didn't shock me when I picked it up or try to whisper subliminal kill-everyone-and-eat-them messages in my ear (or if it did, it's not working). I spent a long time thinking before I turned on my computer. All my files are still there, my browsing history looks normal, and I have no idea how to tell if something else went wrong. The computer is still a malevolent piece of crap, but it has neither attained sentience nor melted down, so I think I'm safe. I sincerely hope this was just a weird atmospheric phenomenon or whatever, because I do not want to be spied on, and I do NOT want the tentacle monster apocalypse to start in my room.

The Utility of Belts

Utility belts are one of the most visible markers of powers status. It's almost without exception the small-time urban supers who use them. The big-time supers (you know, the ones who go to space and stop forest fires and crap like that) rarely bother wearing them. I guess there's just not much you can fit in a pocket that would be capable of stopping a meteor, or at all useful on a stopping-a-meteor mission. The big-timers usually wind up wearing those minimalist sleek outfits or high tech armor, and I guess when you're breaking the sound barrier it helps to have as little friction as possible. So they generally don't have pockets. But then again, they often have support teams, so I guess it evens out.
I would definitely fall on the side of utility belt users. Here is a list of what I carry in my purse for a typical trip to some place like Butterfly World or Goodwill or the mall:
Lip chap, Swiss Army knife, 2-3 band-aids, bubble gum, spare hairband, water bottle, pack of tissues, keyring (with flashlight and compass), camera, sunscreen, cell phone, wallet, small notebook, pencil, hand sanitizer, snack bar, floss, bandanna, pad and sunglasses. Ever since I've developed my powers, I've also carried around a couple little chemical handwarmer packs, in case I need to melt something really quickly. Lighters are just more trouble than they're worth.
I've never understood how boys can just walk out of the house carrying nothing. I don't think I'm a particularly high maintenance girl, either. I don't have makeup, mirrors, safety pins, jewelry or tiny hairbrushes in my purse (though I have to admit, a tiny hairbrush would be cool to have). But at the same time I can't really go out of my room without a purse and trust to fate to provide me with all my necessities. Maybe it's a girl thing, or maybe it's a control freak thing, but I like to be prepared for (minor) disasters, no matter how mundane an occasion seems at the outset. So imagine all of the stuff on that list, minus all the ID in the wallet, and of couse wiped clean of fingerprints, and add stuff like lockpicks, rubber gloves and shark repellant. Seriously, being a super involves some pretty weird emergencies, no matter what side you're on. How would I even fit all that stuff on something that is also supposed to be holding my pants up?

This Looks Like a Job For... Somebody Else!

Someone robbed a Walgreen's today. I called Dani as soon as I heard the news, but she had her phone off. It wasn't the one she works at anyway. Of course, I didn't hear about it until it was over. Where would I even get a police scanner? Even the police got there after everything was over, because crime happens quickly and the police can't teleport. I hear the military's working on it, but so far it seems cost-prohibitive and dangerous. Officially, they're up to teleporting rats. However, since the teleportation booths they've developed can only work in a vacuum, I'm guessing they're just teleporting dead rats. Who probably explode half the time. So yeah, they've got nothing on the natural teleporters.
But back to my problems- if I should go superhero, how would I be able to find out about crimes and get there in time to stop them? Patrol is right out. I'm not one of those wall-crawling, roof-running jocks, and I can't fly. I hate jogging (even though I don't sweat anymore). I don't think surveillance is the answer- questions of ethics aside, it's expensive, impractical and liable to get me caught, not to mention brought up on criminal charges myself. How do the superheroes do it? Enhanced senses? Telepathy? Precog sidekick? Luck?
Yet another obstacle. Sometimes I think being a villain would be easier.