Holding Out For A Hero: An Original Superhero Quest

You flip the radio off and keep going straight. You don't really know who either of those guys are. Whether they're C-List, D-List, or A-List. Granted, the fact that you've never heard of them probably means they're not exactly high on the totem pole of villainy, but still. You don't know what you're walking in to. You don't know if you could be killed by a villain, arrested by the police or a hero, or even shot by a scared civilian.

Besides, you need to get Gwen her ice cream.

You put your foot on the accelerator as you drive off. When you drive back with ice cream in tow, trying to ignore the plumes of smoke that are starting to rise from Riverpark.
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It's late that night as you and Adrian are settling in. Gwen's in bed, and you both are cuddled up in bed. You're watching one of the Late Night shows. The comedian on the screen is smiling in to the camera. While you could watch the news, you know that it's going to be about what happened in

"Artificial Intelligence. The villain in 30 percent of Sci Fi movies, and what 100 percent of politicians have instead of brains" He flashed another smile, as the unseen studio audience laughed for a few seconds. "Now, there's a difference between the artificial intelligence that allows a robot to serve you drinks, and an artificial intelligence that gives it the presence of mind to call you a [BLEEP] when you don't tip." There's another brief pause as there are a few chuckles. "Now, for the later, there's been a ban into that kind of research after a robot murdered a human over a game of chess, which is unacceptable. You're only supposed to murder someone over a game if you're playing Monopoly."

The comedian continued talking about AI, the history, and about some scientists were trying to restart research into self aware intelligence. But you stop paying attention as you try to get more comfortable.

"Hey Babe?" Adrian says.

"Yeah?" I say.

"What time is it?"

I glance over at the clock beside me. "11:12" I mutter.

He makes a grunting sound. "You know, we should probably go to bed" He says.

"Yeah..." I say. And for a few seconds, neither of us do anything, the only sound in the room is the TV. "So, whose gonna turn off the TV?"

"Where's the remote?" He asks. I lift up my body, and, just barely, see the remote, which had somehow migrated up to the foot of the bed.

"It's up at the foot of the bed" I say.

For a few more seconds, neither of us do anything. "Well, I'm not reaching out to get it" I say, plopping back down on the bed.

"Well, neither am I" Adrian says. He pulls the covers up over his head. But after a few more seconds

A few seconds later, He reaches my foot out, trying to maneuver it under the remote. Maybe, he was thinking could just launch the remote over to you with a flick of his foot. Then, he just turn off the TV and we could go to bed. But as soon as he flicks his foot, the remote hits the ceiling and the tv shuts off. Then the remote falls down onto the floor, the base containing the batteries pops open.

"...Eh, good enough" You say as you pull the covers over yourself.

"Yeah, G'night" He says.
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The early next morning, and you're already on the road. You've just dropped Gwen off at school and you're on your way to your Workshop, the building you're renting for your business. It's a small red building about 10 minutes away from your house, with two white doors, one for people to go through, and a wide garage door to get larger statues out. There are a few windows on each side, all covered by blinds to keep prying eyes away.

On the inside, There are several your metalworking equipment takes up most of the floor. Most of your equipment were from factories that closed down, that sold their equipment to pay off debts. But most of it is still in good condition, thankfully. In the corner is a couch, another acquisition of a closing factory, as well as a mini-fridge. In the back, there's a ladder leading to the basement where you keep a few of the raw materials, and of course, a private room with no windows for when you need to work on more... sensitive projects away from even the possibility of prying eyes. The air conditioner runs almost constantly when you're working, so you can avoid burning up from the heat.

Still, now that you're here, you open your phone and check on what you have to do. You're going to have to work a while to make up for lost time. Thankfully, some of your clients understood, so you have a few days to take care of your backlog.

[] A small metal sculptures of the last few domestic servant model robots from Synthetic Insights. It's very complex, but the client is willing to pay 700 dollars for the set. It'll take a few days to complete all of them.
[] A good sized sculpture of an eagle. The client is going to pay 500 dollars for it. I'll be working on it all day, but if I'm lucky, there'll still be sunlight when you leave.
[] Knock out a few smaller projects at once. There's a half a dozen of them, and they won't take too long, and it's a quick 20-30 dollars each. It'll take 5-9 hours to finish them all.

As you're deciding which project you're going to start on, you get another message on your phone. It's a new commission, a metal skull. He specifically requesting the most durable materials that you have. His starting offer is 850 dollars, but if you wanted to, you could try to haggle the price up. Though he's also saying that he wants it ASAP, which could be a problem for your other commissions.

[] The metal skull, large enough to be worn on one's head. The client is willing to pay 1000 for it and is requesting my most durable materials.
-[] Haggle on the price.Say you have a backlog, and you'll need more money to put it in the front of the line.
- [] I could enchant it to be more durable. Use that to jack up the price.

[1000 is plenty. Take it or leave it]

You sigh as you put your phone away. Still, it's a thousand dollars. You think about how you're going to do it. Now you could use a Titanium Alloy. It's harder than Steel, but Titanium is more than twice as expensive on a good day. Besides, you're all out of titanium.

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By night time by the time you finish the skull for the day. You take a step back and admire your work. The shiny steel alloy skull stares back at you with hollow eyes. The teeth are detailed, and the mouth looks almost like it's giving a slight grin. Stelling around, you take a look at the jaw hinges, which are designed to detach and reattach, leaving enough room for someone to wear the skull like a mask. The skull is still rough looking. The top of it still isn't as smooth as it could be. You leave the skull at the workshop, making a mental note to finish the skull and send it off tomorrow.

As you walk to your car, you hear police sirens in in the distance. You look around, but you don't see anything. Your workshop is in a slightly out of the way area. There aren't very many other buildings on this part of the street, and what few there are for small businesses in old, run down buildings. Like the shoe store that's being run out of an old gas station that's been painted purple. Or the restaurant that's run out of someone's old house. Still, there's a real residential neighborhood just past the trees across the street, and there's a highway just five minutes down the street where the sirens are coming from so you aren't entirely isolated. It's probably a domestic dispute or a drunk driver. You shrug it off and keep heading for your car. It's probably speeder or a drunk driver. That's what it usually is.

As you get into your car, you turn on the radio again. "This is DJ Pale Plastique, bringing you the best of the 70's 80's and 90's. Now, this next song is Weird Science, by Oingo Boingo. Now this song, like most great songs, it wrote itself. Specifically, it was written in a car, by Danny Elfman after he heard it in his head. How, I'm not saying that a telepath sent the song to his brain just to see if he could... but I'm betting that if he did, he's kicking himself for not getting any royalties" The DJ chuckles before putting the song on.

'From my heart, from my hand, why don't people understand my intentions?'

You start up your can and you're about to drive off when, you get a text message. Looking at it, you see it's from Adrian.

[Hey Honey, how's it goin' ]

[Just heading back from work. Gonna be busy for the next 30 years catching up on commissions. ] You type in response. [How was-

Before you can finish your text, you start to hear gunfire from the same direction that the sirens are coming from. Not the quick 'pop' of pistols, but the lout 'booms' of shotguns and the 'rattattatta' of automatic weapons.

[] Suit up and run towards the gunfire.
[] Drive home In the opposite direction. You don't want to get involved.
[] Write in