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The Hazing of Starlet | Edogawakun | 3

 

I suppose a plethora of options does make for a difficult decision. Then again, that same thing is exactly what makes a rejection from one less terrifying. Anyway, I just need to calmly think about this. The right solution will come if I just focus and not get pessimistic. I'm a superhero, damn it! I face things worse than rejection!

Before I can put this plan in action, however, my alarm clock started blasting out its annoying rooster crows. With a sigh, I grab my glasses and focus on changing back to and go through with another boring day at school. Since my glasses don't fit properly on Starlet's head, I can't put them on until after I change, so I go through my pulsating transformation, my glasses dangling around my neck by the strap. Originally after developing my mutation, I kept my glasses nearby for ease, but 's poor vision told me that was a pretty bad idea through seven toe stubbings and tripping over my own bed. And since I don't trust myself amidst transformation and don't have the cash to replace my glasses, I elected to tie a rubber band to the ear pieces and keep them hanging off my neck during transformation. They do a little dance, all the more so when my boobs are growing, but the lenses haven't so much as shifted within the frames - very impressive when you consider the speed at which I've mastered my transformations, it used to take me a minute to transform consciously but it now it's almost instantaneous.

The only plus side I've been able to salvage from this underdeveloped form is it makes getting out of Starlet's costume very easy. Now that I'm back to being , the costume is pooled at my feet, lacking any form of support now. Two steps and I'm wearing nothing but a pair of glasses and the disappointed look I always wear when I see I didn't take some of Starlet's beauty and maturity with me. Why do I never change even slightly? Shuichi Minamino took some of Yoko Kurama's yoki with him each time he transformed back into Shuichi! Why can't I get such a sweet deal? I know Kurama's a fictional character, but come on! With all the superhumans and mutants in this world, there's got to be some similar cases! Why can't I be one of those cases?

I get the feeling this bitching and moaning about how is never aesthetically developing into Starlet is becoming part of my transformation routine. While most people would find thoughts of self loathing debilitating, I somehow managed to throw on a pair of panties, a black T-shirt, and a black knee-length skirt through my tantrum and even have a pair of socks in hand. I can get away without a bra even for gym class or gym trips, and transforming into Starlet in a pinch is easier on her massive mammaries like this. In addition to this benefit, simple, loose clothes have always worked to hide me in a crowd and work an old middle school illusion backwards; instead of using loose clothes to hide a developed body, I use them to hide a childish body. I'd love just once to be able to dress to flaunt something and be able to call it 's, but first needs something to flaunt.

Step by step, I silently walk down the sidewalk towards my school, just trying to drown out the honking horns and roaring engines as I focus on Starlet matters. It's not a long walk, but it's still a bit exhausting. I want to be able to drive to school, and do drive on other occasions, but there are two major problems. The first is I have no car of my own. My mother has her own car, but she needs it for her job, and I believe I already established my financial situation. Even on the rare chances my mom's home and I can have the car, the other problem is the bigger one. Starlet. These roads are busy, especially in the morning commute during the school year. Being able to drive more than three inches in a minute and arriving on time to wherever you're going is nothing short of a miracle. If you were dumb enough to park on one of these major roads before or during the morning rush, you were not getting out until nine. Having grown up around these streets, I know all the tricks to getting anywhere on time both on and off these major roads during this congestion, but the Starlet situation complicated matters. As much as love the form, I never hope for an emergency, but as they say, "Hope for the best, prepare for the worst." With its tinted windows, my mother's car would give me a place to change, but I don't want to be the one to explain to mom, or anyone else for that matter, why I left her car parked in the middle of a busy street or parked so far from school. So, for the sake of any emergencies that happens within earshot, I just walk to school with Starlet hidden under my skin in my purse's poorly sewn secret compartment - nobody will notice the zipper and patch I sewed in to make the compartment, but only as long as my purse is full. I could just fly as Starlet, but that violates the code of the superhero and creates a few exposure risks.

Today, however, I may need to break that code a bit. A gun shot seeps into my ears, almost hidden under the cacophony of the traffic, the rest of the street seemingly oblivious to any new sounds. It came from the back and left, the exact opposite direction I needed to travel. Regardless, I take off running towards it, just reminding myself of the inner struggles I willingly immersed myself in with a double identity. While I can't use sonar of any kind to find the location, I can easily figure this out based upon the time of day and location. Being able to hear the gun shot in such a noisy location indicates the shot was fired relatively close, but the fact that it was hard to hear and everyone else missed it points to a decent distance, four or five streets over. The gun shot proves the target has a human in the criminal's way, and that area is a row of businesses and no lodgings, so the target is either open for business or on the street. And since traffic cuts off escape routes for vehicles, the target is most likely something small that can be carried on foot easily. While these all assume the criminal has common sense, I can clearly see the confirmation as I round the corner.

Right across the street are a half dozen people robbing an electronics store. With the basic criminal get up of long garments and ski masks, I can't tell much on age and strength. However, thanks to the girl behind the counter, I can tell from the bulge in their pants that they are all men. In a flash, I'm down an alley as a barefoot Starlet in a crop top and miniskirt, cutting to the back of the store as I change on the way. This modern age doesn't offer much in the way of locations to undress on the streets in complete privacy, so I learned to transform when I knew no one was looking and change while I was running, and an alley was usually ideal. With a few minor struggles around the bust, I finally get my suit on and gear up an entrance, my purse and clothes carefully hidden in the alley.

With a light fury bubbling to the surface, I launch two blasts from my hands, striking the two empty handed ones down from behind. Like every other human, their flesh sears lightly at impact, their heavy clothes and the layers of oxygen being their only saving grace. Even with restraint, I think I over did it.

Normally at this point, I throw some witty line and taunt my opponents a little. However, since this is taking me away from school, I have to wrap this up quickly, so instead ready my next attack.

One of them speaks, "Wha...?" But before he can complete the thought, he and the rest of the gang are already turned around, staring at the shimmering superheroine flying full speed at them, my fist extended before me. Had the speaker kept his mouth shut, he would have only lost a few teeth. Instead, I wind up fish hooking him and taking all of his teeth out with a piece of flesh. It's time's like this I wish I still had gloves for the suit, I don't object to blood on the suit so much. And, fortunate for the shopkeeper, I was able to pull the plasma screen out of his hands before he fell.

After depositing the television behind the counter with the wounded clerk, I decide to line up and clothesline the last three out and then time them all up. This whole ordeal is infuriating enough with all the blood on my right hand and the time it takes from my life as , I don't need to waste more on having fun at a time like this. Unfortunately, I think I took too long to get ready for it. By this time, one is already out the front door and the other two are heading towards the back. And, like a dumbass, I decided to go off to the side and let them take this split up tactic. Under traditional circumstances, I'd take the two since they're loaded up with laptops and portable game systems. But since the loner is heading to a weighted down van with keys in his hand, I think he's the priority.

This would be success story felt the strongest gust of warm wind lurch him forward a few feet; closer to his van, but face to face with what sent a warm wind across his neck and a cold chill up his spine. Hovering between him the van he was eagerly chasing was the bright shine of what anyone who hasn't seen me at full power before would think is a humanoid star. Our now panicing robber pulls out his gun and unloads a full clip on me. I felt the bullets land right on my body, the hot metal scorched a bit on impact, but their own momentum flattened them against me and fall to earth like nickels, not a single one piercing me. With his pistol making the clicking all emptied guns make (or maybe that's his knees knocking), one light roundhouse kick becomes all I need to knock him out and through the store's window, making a perfect path for me to pursue the other two.

I pause right in the middle of the frame, amazed at the sight before me. The clerk with a bullet in his shoulder is bandaged, the prior look of pain and fear replaced with relieved contentment. Resting in his hand is a plastic bag, sealed with a bloody bullet in it and labeled, "Right Shoulder," while his good arm is holding a cell phone to his ear. The five criminals that didn't leave the store are all tied up on the ground in a dogpile, some slack on one end clearly reserved for the one I just kicked in while the other end leads to the display cases. I have no idea who could have done this, especially considering how little time they had to work with, but I'm not going to question it. I just kneel down and start tying the last member into his gang and try to get out of here quick as a marvel at the ease of this annoying incident, and just to be sure I check on the other knots.

Once the knot's secured and I'm done checking my mystery accomplice's work, I straighten up legs first to take off and hope I can get to school on time. Before I can get my back straight, however, I jump with a yelp as something grabs my butt, falling forward onto the pile. I turn myself around, but find nothing there. So what the hell grabbed me? I try to put it out of my mind and get on my feet, but before I'm even up I feel something small and sharp poking my cheek. When I'm finally up, I turn to try and see what it was, but there's nothing in the pile that could be described as "small and sharp." I can't find anything on my cape, so I figure I fell on something and it fell off and just walk towards the back. On my way, I feel something lightly tapping my butt with each step. I know it's not my cape, since it's too long and thin to tap me noticeably. But how exactly did I get something under my cape? I reach behind and pull off a small card with a feathered boarder and carefully typed text. It reads:

To the outstanding Starlet,

We've been watching you as you fight for justice and peace, and believe you show the potential to be a great heroine despite how rough around the edges you are. We hereby invite you to try out for our team and fight along side us. We believe a unity with you will only benefit everyone on the side of righteousness. We ask you to consider this offer carefully and meet us on the roof of the local tabloid office at nine tonight to give us your answer. Tardiness will impact our decision in this all important meeting.

Best Wishes,
The Temporal Order of Angels.

...I don't believe it! The Temporal Angels is considered to be the most exclusive of the superhero teams! And they want me! The heroes that comprise the group are generally less well known, but it's said they collectively have connections to every group of heros in the world and are certainly a powerful line of defense, even if everyone else usually steals the spotlight from them. They still get a good amount of coverage, though, having saved the world countless times themselves.

Wait. What if this is a trap? The Angels are a powerful group and none would dare turn down a meeting with them. Using their name would be a perfect bait for some small time hero like me. I just spin the card in my hands, trying to determine how exactly I'm going to figure this out. And before I can come up with anything, I notice something written by hand on the back of the card.

P.S. You got a great ass. If you don't need it for functionality, I suggest ditching it.

Blushing a bit as the realization finally hits me, I can't help but consider tonight's meeting and the offer. Should I go? Is it a trap? Will I have to meet the pervert who groped me? Were I not trying to fly out of earshot of the police sirens with a purse in my hand, I'd probably be able to consider this more carefully.

 

What do I eventually decide on?


          Head to the meeting (and skip to it)

 
 
 

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