Handholding Grape
grapegremlinâ:
Mineta stopped his gloating, turning to Brad. His smirk remained, watching him as he gave his little speech. Mineta was a traditional villain, heâd let his enemy finish his monologue. âYa done? Good, I was just about to explain my evil plan.â Suddenly, the room around the pair of journalists began changing. The audience members would all see their own hallucinations, but he wasnât bothered with them. âThe truth is, youâre wrong. If thereâs a lie going around it was probably started by the media. Youâre all gossip spreading fools, too high off your own fumes to realize just how foolish you really are.âÂ
Suddenly, they were in the middle of a busy street, cars smacking directly into them as it went. All hallucinations of course, brought on by the grapeâs quirk. The fact of the matter being, he was just toying with them. âYouâre all just bullies, liars, fake. Isnât that right Bradlaaaay?â His voice echoed, though he couldnât be seen. Suddenly, Brad found himself right back where he was years ago, the hero course at school. âYour quirk reached itâs limit, thatâs what they told ya right? You werenât good enough to make pro-hero. Unlike you guys, I did my research.â
With that, books, shelves, lockers all began folding in on themselves and started pelting Brad all over. Susan meanwhile, was suffering her own hallucinations.Â
âHow does it feel, Susan? To be part of the problem~?â
âOnce again a lack of imagination!â a memory taunted Bradley, as the world had shifted before him he had hesitated. âNo fresh ideas, and expecting a fair fight!?â The memory of his school days was quick to point out that he had once again failed, if he had acted with urgency...no he just had to remove such thoughts, the taunts of a lonely, angry child. Being pelted by thick books and shelving was bearable, as the chair he had held onto in the nightmare seemingly broke apart as he used it to defend himself from one side, curling up on himself. âSo, you have another quirk...I just have to ignore this fake illusion until help arrives, do you really think you could escape?â and the screams, the screams that seemingly broke through these alternate realities... Still, are reporters not talented in ignoring the screams of those in true need? He would hold fast; this onslaught was nothing... The walls shifted, as the mist took a stronger hold on Bradâs psyce, the makeshift mask having proven fruitless at this point as his body began to be pelted with sports equipment...bats, small weights and rackets among others. hunched over the floor, Brad tried to focus his hardening in a protective dome, rather than trying to protect his whole body, he would endure; just like when his classmates âhelpedâ beat him during training. At least, thatâs what a hero had to do, believe Iâm himself. -------------- The smoke was thick as Susan crawled along the rubble, colored broken glass strewn about at she kept low to the ground. Without warming the sound of an explosion burst behind her as she her face turned, the flames must have finally reach the fuel tank of the helicopter she had been on, and she was the only survivor. Wait, when was she on a helicopter? She was crawling away, but not to escape... Determined but confused Susan continued to inch forward, lifting herself down from the broken rubble, carefully avoiding the frayed electrical wire. However as she continued the smoke finally began to clear... Buildings in ruin, the result of a terrible battle however before she could take it all in a voice gasped out towards Susan, a mighty hero pinned against the pavement by a helicopter blade. âWhy...Why did I have to die, protecting such a selfish fucking reporter, I didnât have to die...if only, you had stayed away...â She...She had gotten in the way, she caused a hero to die. As she heard the sound of those in pain, her face flushed as the road patched with rubble, her path to the place she barely remembered she needed to crawl to, was strewn with people who had protected her.
Her voice, had no place in times of real danger.













