Outdoor Show

[Lone Star]

March 30th, 2011. 9 PM. Weather: cool and windy.

Gregory pulled up outside of the ticket gates, his jacket flowing behind him. As he slowly led his Harley into a parking spot, he looked up at the outdoor amphitheater known as the Bandshell in Liberty Park. They were here to see Soul Stampede, a local jazz group. He was meeting Gossamer outside after he closed up. He cut the engine to his mighty motorcycle, and walked towards the gates. He wore a blue muscle shirt, and a light jacket, and boot-cut jeans to match his heavy motorcycle boots. He checked his watch, and hoped she wasn't already waiting for him.

His life since he had moved in with her had been a blast- plenty of nights in with movies and her fantastic cooking, but this had been the first time in a long while that he had time to spend time with her outside of her apartment. His hand moved up to his stubble- damn. He had been meaning to get rid of it, but she didn't seem to mind his occasional absent-mindedness. Gregory smiled and sat down on a park bench, waiting for his girlfriend to arrive.

[Heritage]

The cab pulled up a short distance away from the Bandshell, and Estelle de Havilland paid the driver and stepped out. The blonde heroine was dressed down for the occasion, her hair tucked discretly into the dark blue Columbia Sportswear jacket, where it coiled around her torso a few times. In her jeans and light hiking boots and with her hair out of sight, few people seemed to recognize her. She spotted Greg bearby and ambled in his direction, a big warm smile on her face.

"Hello, darling." She gave him a quick kiss in greeting, then surveyed the crowd. "So, have you scoped out the best beer vendors yet?"

[Lone Star]

Gregory accepted the kiss and smiled at her, returning her kiss with a firm pat on the behind. He put a muscular arm around her waist and walked up to the ticket booth. After giving the man their tickets, the two entered the Bandshell.

"I haven't found any good ones so far...just the typical Bud Lite. Bluh." On the stage, assistants were checking mics and setting up the drum set. The band would start in about fifteen minutes or so. "How about I buy us some food? I haven't eaten much all day."

[Heritage]

"How about I buy us some food? I haven't eaten much all day."

Estelle nodded. "Mmm, that sounds good; just nothing too greasy, alright? As for the beer, I sort of expected that, so..." She discretely unzipped her jacket just a few inches, and the necks of two bottles of Anchor Steam 'mysteriously' peeked out, before silently retreating from sight. "Not ice cold I'm afraid, but still infinitely preferrable to the heinous Bud Lite. Sadly I only had room for the two."

As she surveryed the roadies working on stage, the blonde heroine felt a little flutter of excitement in her belly. "I really do need to find a suitable venue for live performance; perhaps a small club near the HIT campus might be fun. It's a shame we couldn't get my charity concert off the ground last summer due to all those insurance issues, but my crack team of friends who are lawyers say we might actually be able to pull it off this year." She visibly glowed at the thought.

[Lone Star]

Gregory grinned with pleasure. "You always do think ahead, babe." His arm went around her waist and he planted a firm kiss on her forehead.

He smiled with pleasure at the thought of hearing her band live. Gregory had jammed with Estelle a few times, but had never seen her full group. "I'd love to come see your band. You know I'd be your biggest fan." he said with a visible wink. "If you need a roadie, I'm sure I could assist. All that heavy equipment and all." He blinked once, and paused for a moment. "Not to say that you couldn't get it with your hair and all, but I like to feel helpful sometimes." He grinned like a loon and the two walked towards the food stands. Luckily, Stan's Super Heroes had a small stand set up. "That works."

[Heritage]

Estelle eagerly rubbed her hands in anticipation as they approached the famous local sandwich vendor. "Mmm, an excellent choice! A nice roast beef club and a bag of chips would really hit the spot." She was more than happy to let Greg pay, invoking her 'pretty lady privileges', though of course she had scored them both a beer, so it wasn't like she wasn't contributing. She thanked the young sandwich maker when their order was up, and as they headed back into the crowd, the conversation turned back to a point her boyfriend raised earlier.

"So is it hard for you, dating a so-called 'superheroine'? I like to think of myself as being fairly feminine, but does the whole 'strength of ten men' aspect ever make you feel, oh..." She waved her sandwich around as she groped for the right word. "Well I don't want to say 'impotent', but now I've gone ahead and said it, so there you are. Or just plain 'less masculine', I suppose." Her tone of voice expressed mild amusement, but just the hint of a concerned frown graced her brow.

[Lone Star]

Gregory's smile faltered for a moment. "Well, I guess I do feel that way a little bit, to be honest with you." He looked into her eyes, and his smile returned. "I guess it's because I don't have any powers, but then I think of how far I've gotten without them, and I realize we're both pretty awesome in our own ways. I mean, look what we've accomplished. You're a respected heroine in Freedom City, and you're working alongside some of the brightest minds the world has known. And I've become fairly respected myself...occasionally feared, and I run my own vet office. I'd be tempted to say I feel fairly adequate, in spite of being in the company of such an incredibly entrancing woman."

[Heritage]

At first, Estelle looked a bit concerned when Greg started to explain his feelings; she'd been secretly worrying about the power inequality issue for a while, but hadn't been able to come up with the right way to broach the subject. But as her boyfriend continued, her worries melted away; thankfully it seemed Greg was confident enough in himself as both a man and as a 'hero' to not lt it bother him overly, which came as a huge relief to her.

"You should be proud of your accomplishments; you spend almost all your waking hours working to help people and reduce suffering. Your a good man, and I was lucky to find you." She pulled him in close by the collar to give him a fierce kiss. "Mm-mmm! Oh look, beer!" The bottles once again emerged from inside her jacket, the caps furtively popped by a pair of quick golden flickers. "Cheers!" After a swig, Estelle pointed down the aisle. "Let's go find our seats."

[Lone Star]

Gregory held her tight as he kissed her back with love. He grinned with her as he took a swig of the beer. "Sounds like a plan, babe."

As the two sat down, the musicians were starting to tune. The crowds of people started to sit down, and the musicians started their first tune; Blue Rondo A La Turk, a jazz standard. Greg put his arm around Estelle's shoulder, and gave her a firm kiss on the cheek. "I love you." he said simply, and he meant it. Living with Estelle had made him a happier man. Although they had their occasional disagreements, they were human after all.

[Heritage]

"I love you."

Estelle smiled, rested her head on her boyfriend's shoulder and said nothing, but then a thick golden tendril slowly slipped out of her jacket; unseen by the rest of the audience and still warm from being close to her body under her coat, it slid under Greg's jacket and wrapped itself snuggly around his torso where it remained, occasionaly adjusting itself like a sleeping snake. The touch was strange, powerful and yet intensely intimate, much like the woman herself.

[Lone Star]

Gregory happily planted a kiss on the top of her head, and he gently stroked her hair on the top of her head. A cool wind blew his hair back, and he brought his polished leather jacket closer to him. It was getting cooler, but Estelle's beer kept him warm enough. He rubbed his lips, then applied some Chap-stick to them. Kissing would be unpleasant with dry lips. He watched the musicians, smiling and looking relaxed despite the complexity of jazz. He had a surprise for Estelle after the show, and a tease of a smile briefly made itself visible on his face.

[Heritage]

This was good; to be honest, jazz wasn't 100% her thing, but Estelle knew it was important to be open to new things. She was fairly sure there many nuances she wasn't picking up on, but that wasn't necessarily bad; as her mother always said, 'It's never too late to learn how dance.'

The blonde chemist caught the flicker of Greg's smile out of the corner of her eye; she turned to look at him quizzically. "What? You look like you just remembered something funny."

[Lone Star]

"I think you'll like my surprise later." He grinned again and kissed her on the cheek. The musicians started on another song, but a shriek pierced the air. The audience covered their ears and started to talk among themselves. The musicians shrugged and started up again.

"That was strange." Gregory said, scratching his chin. "Wonder what-"

The piercing sound came again, this time accompanied by a power chord. A tall figure floated onto stage, his fingers flying over the strings of an electric guitar. His brown hair was worn down to his shoulders, and he wore a leather jacket with blue jeans, which were covered in patches.

"HELLO FREEDOM CITY!" the guitarist shouted. "I am Guitarmageddon! There's no place for jazz in the world I am out to create!" He landed on the stage and started kicking the drum set over. The musicians had their hands in their air and stepped back. "THERE! IS! ONLY! THE METAL!" He raised his hand in the "metal horns" position.

"So...what do you think, love? Any plans?"

[Heritage]

Estelle cringed at the sudden appearance of the malevolent rocker; his outfit was an embarrassment and he held his 'axe' like a machine gun. It would be a pleasure to take care of this rude buffoon.

"So...what do you think, love? Any plans?"

"Nothing I can't put off until later."

She quickly drained the last of her beer, covered her mouth to muffle a small lady-like belch, then peeled of her jacket as she activated the high-tech bracelet on her left arm. In a flash, she was in her one-piece blue and silver fighting suit and ready to rumble. Her hair unfurled (and quickly disposed of their empties in a nearby recycling bin) and she worked her neck loose as she planted her feet apart.

"Ready when you are, love."

[Lone Star]

The man held his hand out dramatically, and smiled broadly. "So you're the one I've been hearing so much about. Gossamer, right? Well you're better looking than I thought, I gotta say. Say, where's that wimpy boyfriend of yours? Doesn't he have anything to say?"

As the youth was talking, Gregory had ducked down under the seats and was furiously zipping and attaching parts of his costume together. He stood, triumphantly, and stared down Guitarmageddon with fierce eyes.

"I think you need to learn how to pick on someone your own size." He concluded his statement by cracking his mighty knuckles together.

He was visibly shaken, but regained his composure quickly. "I think instead of a physical conflict, we settle this in a better way. Now I know that The Metal lives on in me, and I will clearly be the victor, but if you or Gossamer is able to best me in a guitar battle, I'll leave the scene without harming anyone. Do we have a deal?"

[Heritage]

"I think instead of a physical conflict, we settle this in a better way. Now I know that The Metal lives on in me, and I will clearly be the victor, but if you or Gossamer is able to best me in a guitar battle, I'll leave the scene without harming anyone. Do we have a deal?"

Gossamer's jaw dropped for a second as she stared at the villainous metalhead. "Is he serious?" She turned to Mad Dog, and then back to her challenger. "But I suppose as stupid as it sounds, it would minimize the risk to the audience, performers and crew..." Then with a firm nod, she called back to Guitarmageddon. "I accept your challenge!" Sparing a quick kiss on the cheek to MD, she started to make her way to the stage as she called back to him. "Keep an eye out for accomplices, and at the slightest sign of danger get the people out of here!"

Her long golden hair reached out to the superstructure of the Bandshell, hoisting her up in the air; as she passed over the heads of the crowd on her way to the front, she called out to the roadies. "Excuse me, but do you happen to have a Gibson SG? I know it's not standard for jazz, but it's my preferred instrument; otherwise, I'll work with whatever you have tuned."

[Lone Star]

"I think so." said one of the roadies, and he waved his fellow roadies to look backstage. On stage, Guitarmageddon cracked his knuckles. Estelle got a better look at his guitar; it was too heavily modified for the type to be noticeable. The body of the guitar had been painted with images of screaming and laughing demons, and red-skinned imps climbed the neck. The guitarist strummed, and the ground shook beneath him.

"ARE YOU READY TO ROCK?!?!" he shouted, his voice climbing several octaves. His fingers, which resembled pale spiders than hands, sped along the neck of the guitar, skillfully playing arpeggios at what appeared to be speed beyond human skill. It may have been a trick of the eye, but the demons painted on his guitar seemed to bang their heads with the sheer power of the rock. A few lights above the stage blew out, exploding in showers of light and glass. He brought his solo to a screeching peak, and as he hit the high note, everyone who was near the stage felt the deafening noise for moments after.

"Beat that." the young man said, crossing his arms.

A roadie tossed Estelle a burnt orange Gibson SG. It was time to rock.

[Heritage]

"I think so."

Estelle beamed with appreciation. "Excellent, wonderful, you're a prince!"

"ARE YOU READY TO ROCK?!?!"

The blonde chemist/superhero/guitarist audibly groaned and covered her face; this buffoon fit every bad rocker stereotype known to man; the fact that he was actually a very talented performer just made it more painful. If he actually put his mind to it, he could be a real star and not just a gifted criminally-minded poseur.

"Beat that." the young man said, crossing his arms.

Grabbing the axe out of the air with one hand, Gossamer smiled sweetly. "I plan to."

At this point in her life, Estelle honestly only had limited experience performing before a live audience, but she felt her heart pumping with excitement; in a way, she felt a little guilty for doing this, but she reminded herself that it might just avoid a hand-to-hand melee that would be far more dangerous. She quickly checked the tuning on her Gibson, then stepped to the mike.

"First of all, I'd like to apologize to all the dedicated jazz aficionados here tonight; I know this wasn't the sort of show you were expecting this evening. One two three four!"

And with that, Gossamer unleashed the furies and lit up the stage; her fingerwork was the best she'd done in years, and to sweeten the deal for the first time she actually used her hair as part of the performance. The thought had always struck her as being rather crass, but right now she needed every edge she had; mostly she used it for some rather spectacular slide effects, leaving her actual fingers to do most of the work, but she threw in some 'hair picking' for a little pizzazz. The humbuckers on her Gibson practically glowed with pure awesome as she brought her solo home, like crash-landing a 747 into a wall of lightening.

Whump-whump-whump-whump-waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

Sweat pouring down her face, Estelle calmly returned to the mike. "Thank you, Freedom City." She turned to Guitarmageddon and arched an elegant eyebrow. "Well?"

[Lone Star]

Guitarmageddon dropped his guitar. It crashed on the stage and made a loud screech as the amplifiers blew out. He dropped to his knees, and held his face in his hands. He knew it was over for him- that he had lost.

Mad Dog popped up out of the seats, ready to fight. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Your lady just beat me." the young rocker said. As he walked off the stage, he flipped the bird to Gossamer and Mad Dog, utterly defeated.

"Well, that was rude of him." Mad Dog said matter-of-factly. "Should we call the cops? I guess he didn't technically commit any crimes, other than disturbing the peace."

[Heritage]

"Well, that was rude of him." Mad Dog said matter-of-factly. "Should we call the cops? I guess he didn't technically commit any crimes, other than disturbing the peace."

Estelle handed the guitar back to the roadie, then cocked her head to one side as she looked up at the lights. "Well, there was some property damage as well, so we probably should...actually security might just grab him once he's offstage." She pointed over to several men in black T-shirts. "There, you see, they have him; there are probably some officers in the park as well. Oh, thank you!" One of the roadies handed her a bottled water, which she happily gulped down. "Ah, that hit the spot! That was actually a lot of fun, despite the unfortunate circumstances. So, home?"

[Lone Star]

The villain thrashed and tried to run for it, but the cops were on him quickly, slapping handcuffs on his wrists. The rocker went kicking and screaming to the police van, nearly biting one of the officers. "You haven't seen the last of me! YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE LAST OF GUITARMAGEDDON! ROCK AND ROLL FOREVER!" The last that the two heroes saw of him were his hand making the "metal fist" gesture before he was slammed into the van.

"Oh geez, that's the worst cliche in the book. Almost as bad as 'you'll rue the day you heard the name of fill-in-the-blank'. But yes, home sounds like a good plan, dear."

Gregory, or rather, Mad Dog, hopped on the back of his Harley. He smiled behind his hockey mask as his lovely girlfriend slid her hands around his waist. "We'll be home before you can say-" He cut himself off with the revving of the motorcycle's powerful engine, and they were off.

[Heritage]

"Oh geez, that's the worst cliche in the book. Almost as bad as 'you'll rue the day you heard the name of fill-in-the-blank'. But yes, home sounds like a good plan, dear."

Estelle snorted in disgust. "Everything about him is a cliche; did you see his ludicrous guitar, with the flaming skull decals? Honestly!"

She happily climbed on the back of the Harley, as always forming a golden helmet out of her hair (it seemed a senseless waste to buy one, plus it would never be as comfortable as making her own) and putting her arms around her boyfriend's muscular torso. As they roared through the streets on the way back to their loft, the blonde heroine yelled to be heard over the motorcycle.

"I really do need to find more excuses to play in public! I find like it more and more!"

[Lone Star]

Mad Dog smiled a bit as he heard his girlfriend shout over the rumble of the engine. "I think you'll like the surprise I got for you?"

After a few minutes, Mad Dog pulled into the parking lot of her flat, and killed the engine. He helped his lovely girlfriend off the bike, and the two walked up to her apartment. He sat her down in the living room, and ran into their bedroom. "Wait here, honey."

Gregory came back after a few minutes, his mask removed, and a black T-shirt worn instead of his leather jacket. He had in his hand a saxaphone, and he smiled at her. "So, I've really only learned one song, but I hope you enjoy it." He started a famous saxaphone riff and sang the lyrics to her in a rough, but pleasant voice. Gregory still had a lot to learn, but the saxaphone sounded clear as a bell.

[Heritage]

"Wait here, honey."

"Oh, all right." Gossamer peeled off her jumpsuit and threw on a silk bathrobe she kept in the wardrobe for just such a purpose. She went behind the bar, grabbed two glasses, a bottle of scotch and filled the ice bucket. Reclining on the sofa, she fixed them both a drink while she waited for her boyfriend's latest romantic gesture.

"So, I've really only learned one song, but I hope you enjoy it."

Estelle applauded and shook her head. "Only a very secure man can seduce his girlfriend by playing a George Michael song." Smiling, she gestured for him to join him. "That was wonderful; can I see it?"

[Lone Star]

Gregory sat down on the couch, very pleased with how well it went over. He put a hand over her shoulder and gave her a smile.

Estelle applauded and shook her head. "Only a very secure man can seduce his girlfriend by playing a George Michael song." Smiling, she gestured for him to join him. "That was wonderful; can I see it?"

"Oh, sure!" He carefully handed the saxaphone to her, as if he was afraid that his rough hands would break it. "I wasn't really sure which brand to get, but it's a tenor Yamaha. I figured that they make pretty good quality...everything. I just figured you'd like to hear your man show off his sensitive and artistic side. And uhh, about the George Michael song. I happen to kind of have a thing for him. Not him, you know, but his music."