#blinkette

Another outfit commission for vcbastion.

The ramshackle van zoomed over the highway pavement. I leaned over from the middle of the compartment and checked the dashboard; we were going fifteen miles over the speed limit. Radley looked straight ahead, staring sharply at the road through his dark sunglasses. Baxter, strapped in tight, had buried his nose in his Kindle. We had been travelling for a couple of hours, now, and a thick cloud of mystery still surrounded my travelling companions. I gathered that the two men in the front were brothers, although I probably wouldn't have guessed that if I saw them from a distance. They seemed to waver between small talk and terse bits of shouting. The oddest part about it had to be the way they gave each other looks. It's as if they were holding conversations in their heads. I decided to break the silence.

"So, where are you all headed?"

Baxter looked back at me.

"Victory City, Connecticut. Where are you headed?"

"The same place, actually."

Baxter smiled.

"Sheesh, what a coincidence! Seems like lots of people are headed there."

“Hell of a destination. Half the place looks like a bomb hit it." Radley commented.

"There are some nice parts, though. We'll be staying in an apartment, since I got a position at the Lighthouse Foundation." Baxter looked chipper as he explained this.

"The non-profit? I asked. I had only heard about it on the news, seeing that man in the white suit shaking hands with the President.

"The very same. Mr. King needs social workers to investigate opportunities for meta rehabilitation in the city, since there aren't any special programs in the municipal department for metahuman cases." Baxter reported.

"Sounds like a noble cause." I commented. 

"Whatever I can do to help people like us."

I scratched my neck nervously, and by the wince on Baxter's face, it was obvious he could tell why I was uneasy about his statement. I decided to change the subject.

“So, Radley, what will you and Claire be doing in Victory City?”

Claire sat opposite me, usually sleeping or gazing blankly out the window.

“I figure I’ll just drive a taxi or something,” Radley answered.

Claire didn’t respond; she didn’t seem to like to talk, but I figured that wasn't a good indicator of anything, given this kind of crowd.

Baxter leaned over from the passenger's side.

"Getting hungry?"

I stifle a yawn.

"Yeah. Are we going to stop soon?"

It looked like we were headed into a town, with more shrubbery than I've seen for a good while, even if they were mostly palm trees and desert bushes. Ahead, I saw a sign for the elusive rest stop, along with a sign for a place called the Motorhead Motel.  

"Sure as sugar. Turn right there, if you'd please."

Radley groaned, and a voice peaked from the radio.

"Saccharine."

I bet I could run through this town in under a minute with the suit, but I didn't want to risk the security I had for the moment.

The interior of the van was silent, aside from the snoring. Claire had her legs propped up against the back of the driver’s seat. Suddenly, the car lurched, and she slammed into the headrest. Baxter chastised his brother.

"Jesus, will you watch it, Rad? Nearly gave her a concussion..."

Claire groaned, rubbing her head.

“Something was on the road.” Radley grunted.

Radley did seem like he was going too fast. Baxter seemed like he was waiting to say that, though. Sure as sugar, I bet they were sniping at each other in their heads as I thought to myself, or so I hoped. All the while, I wondered if there was anything private in a family so cerebral.

The oldest brother didn't respond, turning off the radio as he turned into the rest stop parking lot.

--

From the parking lot, we could see a giant sign for a diner called “The Moon”. The inside was a lot smaller than I expected, with only a bar and tables against clear windows.

We took our seats, and a strange man caught my eye. He was dressed in a dark blue jumpsuit, with goggles masking his eyes. He was looking intently into a menu he held with one hand, drumming his fingers on the table with the other. Was he headed to Victory City? Immediately, I tried to piece together what kind of powers he had. Blue is a cool color, so I initially figured he had ice powers. He'd never have to ask for more ice in a restaurant.  

We ordered our drinks and Baxter started asking questions.

"So, you're from New Mexico?"

I rubbed the side of my head, groggily.

"Yeah."

Radley threw his menu to the far side of the table and folded his arms.

“We’re from Baton Rouge.”

 Claire elbowed Radley, causing him to re-open the menu.

"I'll just get a burger."

Baxter ribbed me from the window seat.

"He always gets a burger."

Radley rolled his eyes, and Claire looked confused, holding her forehead. Radley winced and kept his menu open.

"Sorry."

Baxter looked to me uneasily and began a conversation.

"I forgot to ask, what will you be doing in Victory City?”

I traced my finger across the smooth surface of the diner counter, distracted by the blue-suited man. At that point, the man in the blue jumpsuit had received his food, a salad. I bet you had to eat light to look good in a jumpsuit. I felt relieved that I didn't have to run around in my suit all the time. I mean, when I ran, yeah, but not when I was dressed as a civilian. At that point, I didn't really know how to control its activation, so I took it slow whenever I could.

It was then that I realized that I left the conversation hanging.

"I’m supposed to be meeting someone there.” I answered.

“Well, if you ever need any help, just call me up. I’ll give you my cell number.”

We exchanged numbers as I peered back at the blue-suited man. Radley slowly turned the pages of the menu. Claire looked at the air with a sharp gaze, her hair getting in the way of her eyes. Behind her, a man in a crisp shirt entered the diner, his back pocket bulging oddly. Baxter continued to make conversation.

"Now, what kind of work did you do in New Mexico?"

"Urban planning." I replied.

Baxter's eyes lit up, and he spoke excitedly.

"Wow, that's great!" Baxter marveled.

I couldn't help but smirk to myself. All the while, I kept an eye on the sharp-dressed man, who was feeling his pockets.

"Yeah, but I didn't really have the power to make big decisions."

Baxter adjusted his glasses, eyeing the waitress with our drinks.

"Yeah, but I bet you'll get there--"

"Empty the register."

We heard gasps. The brothers and I turned to see, while Claire sat staring straight ahead. The gun was pointed at a portly man behind the counter.

"Empty it! I’ve got a full clip!”

The diner patrons began to hide under the tables, and Baxter motioned for us to follow suit. The blue-suited man from earlier looked straight down, gazing at his reflection in the surface of the clear countertop. Then, he slammed his hands down on the counter, standing up. The gunman pointed his weapon towards the blue-suited man and barked at him.

"Hey!"

Despite the threat, the blue-suited man didn't slow his black boots. He raised one hand toward the ceiling lights, which flickered. His hands began to glow brighter. There was a click, and the blue-suited man thrust his spread hands outward. I closed my eyes as a burst of light filled the room. I heard a yelp and something slump to the floor. I leaned out from underneath the table as my vision came back and saw a black welt over the gunman's eyes. The crowd inside the diner began to stand up and stare at the blue-suited man, who stood with arms and legs akimbo over the twitching gunman. 

"Now he's seen the light!" boomed the blue-suited man, his voice full of bravado. I thought I heard the twinge of a French accent.

His catchphrase was met with stunned silence, most people cowering underneath their tables for fear of reproach. The would-be hero let out an unsteady "Heh", dusted off his knees bowed his head to the audience, and quickly headed for the exit, running down the road.

--

Half an hour later, we finished eating and exited the restaurant in silence. I looked back to see the gunman from earlier, propped up in a stool on the end of the counter, lying slack-jawed with a pair of cotton balls in his eyes. In the car, Radley chewed a piece of gum loudly, popping two more pieces into his mouth. Claire grabbed in the air behind him before Radley offered her a piece. Baxter sat with his head propped up by his hand, his eyes glazed. 

It was getting dark by now, the road illuminated by the dim front lights of the van. I pressed my face against the window and it left an imprint, but it faded away within a few seconds. The faint radio static filled the awkward silence as we headed toward the motel. Mumbling came from the radio.

"Close call there."

The silence returned for a moment, before Claire sat up straight. She swiped at the air for a moment, before clonking Radley on the head. Baxter didn't seem fazed, until he returned the favor, smacking him on the shoulder. 

"Don't judge people, Rad. I know what you're thinking." 

Claire spoke up.

"Since when were you the thought police?"

Baxter threw down his Kindle, holding his arms out in disgust and protest.

"Hey, hey! People, please!"

He turned around to address me.

"Sorry about this, it's just--"

"Hey, look!"

Claire pointed in the same direction that Radley was facing, on the side of the road.  Out of the darkness, a round beacon of light shone above a human figure. The mysterious man cupped the light in his hands, as if he was holding a star. Radley slowed down until the figure came into focus. The man's eyes glowed with a soft light and his smile lit up the night. Radley rolled down the window and the man shouted to us.

"Hey, there!"

His words had an distinct French accent. Radley greeted him.

"Need a ride?"

"Rad!" Baxter sharply whispered to Radley, elbowing him and looking harshly into his eyes. Radley ignored him.

"Where are you headed?"

"We're headed to Victory City, how far are you going?"

The man grinned widely and clapped his hands together, rubbing them vigorously. A dull light emitted from his hands.

"I'm headed the same way! May I tag along?"

Baxter turned Radley's shoulders around to face him, glaring at him. Then, the two looked to the back of the car at Claire, who shrugged her shoulders. 

"What's your name?" asked Baxter.

"Orion!"

Radley raised an eyebrow and nodded his head, unlocking the doors of the van. I decided to chime in.

"What, I don't get a say?"

The Senns looked at me, before looking back at Orion.

"It feels like you're making every decision between your heads."

A few seconds passed before Radley spoke up.

"Why don't we take a vote? Who's in for drivin' away?"

Baxter raised his hand.

"Who's in for taking the little lightning bug in?" Radley crackled.

Radley and Claire raised their hands. Baxter looked to Radley and folded his arms. Orion looked at me with glowing puppy-dog eyes. I sighed, raising my hand.

Orion sat between Claire and I, and we drove towards the motel. 

It's been awhile without a real update and we've had plenty to update about.  We've got plenty of art and characters, so lets jump in!  First we have more artwork coming from Dragon.

Here we have several figures from Norse mythology including Thor, Loki, Odin, and Sigyn.