August 1st
"- And now an interview with the team of metas that rescued many of the city's most prominent members from the terrorist attack on a dinner cruise. The Alternateens!"
The camera panned to a grouping of teenagers in hero gear. Their looks varied quite a bit, and the reporter seemed about as shocked as the fashion police surely were.
"Hi, we're the Alternateens," a girl said. She sat in the front row and oozed wanton sex appeal, wearing a school girl outfit that had surely pranced it's way through many a man's dreams. The plaid skirt was tight and ended somewhere above mid thigh, revealing garters that held up white stockings with red bows on the top. Her top was white, and looked painted on, tied off just below her generous bosom and unbuttoned to reveal a red bra. She wore a mask in plaid that matched her skirt. Her hair was in pigtails, her voice rough and husky in a 900 number way. "I'm Sister Chaste," she said, then gave a low giggle.
"I'm EbonKnight," came the sulky voice of the boy next to her. He was in a long black trench coat that had dozens of buckles and zippers on it, his hair in a flock of seagulls haircut with thick black eye liner showing above a bandanna that covered the lower half of his face, in black, of course.
"I'm Wilderness Girl," was the slightly angry tone of the girl sitting behind Sister Chaste. She was pretty, but no match for the girl in front of her, and she knew it. Dressed in what looked like the "sexy Native American" outfit from Halloween, her hair was down with a band around it with feathers, facepaint obscuring her face a bit, and leather in an off the shoulder top that revealed her mid-drift and a short skirt with a long slit up the side. Her skin was dark and she was scowling down at Sister Chaste, glancing between her and the adoring sideways glances toward her from the boy who spoke next.
"Demo," he grunted. He was large, very large, topping out at about 6'6" and wide enough he'd have to turn sideways to move through a doorway. He seemed all muscle, his hair in a mohawk and a grin on wide features that didn't give any indication that intelligence lurked beneath. He wore a construction style outfit, and a simple domino mask on that he continually rubbed with thick fingers, obviously uncomfortable.
"We're Feather and Brick," came the mixed voices of the couple so entwined in one another that it was not only embarrassing, but also impossible to tell just what they were wearing. He nibbled on her ear, shameless in front of the camera as her hands roamed his chest. There was a mixture of blonde hair and brown, lighter and soft skin of a girl, and the slightly darker and rougher skin of a boy, along with pinks and browns. The exact nature of the outfits was as much of a mystery as who's tongue was who's when their mouth's met.
The Reporter nodded, and said, "The rescue of the cruise ship was quite amazing. How did you know that it was in danger?"
"That was me," EbonKnight spoke, before anyone else could, "I can see danger or whatever in the shadows." He somehow managed to look sulky while he preened.
"Once we knew there was danger, we knew we had to act," Sister Chaste said, "Especially once we knew who was on board. With the Freedom League abandoning the city, someone has to step up."
"And you thought it should be you? But you're just teenagers?"
"Why not us?" Wilderness Girl asked haughtily.
"What she means," Sister Chaste corrected, not seeing the vile look shot her way, "Is that someone has to step up. Why shouldn't it be us? If no one is willing to face down evil, or save lives, then the world isn't a place that we want to live in. You have to be the change you want to see, after all."
"Aren't you worried about the Guild?"
"They're just human," Demo scoffed. He elbowed Brick, who didn't move in the least as a particularly disgusting sucking noise came from the two entwined figures.
"Exactly," Sister Chaste continued, "As are we, despite our powers. We can't allow people to stand in the way of what is right. We have to work hard for what we want, and not be afraid of what could happen, or we'll be paralyzed because of it."
"Are you worried that people will see you as trying to replace the Freedom League?"
"We are-" EbonKnight began, only to be interrupted by Sister Chaste once more, "never going to consider ourselves on par with the Freedom League. They were amazing icons of freedom and hope. What we do hope to do is give the city a new direction to look in."
"What do you think about groups like the Minor League and the return of FORCE OPs?"
"FORCE Ops failed once," Wilderness Girl responded, "They weren't even that big of a force when they were in their hayday. They're never-beens lead by a has been, and we don't even think they're worth considering." Sister Chaste's eyes opened wide, and Wilderness Girl shot her a dirty look, "Just shut up, I have something to say. As for the Minor League, they can keep rescuing old ladies from crossing the street or whatever it is they do. We're not Minor anything, except in legalities."
Sister Chaste opened her mouth to try some sort of damage control only to have Demo speak up, "This city isn't big enough for so many teams, but we'll be the ones to come out on top."
"We know where danger is, when it'll happen, and we'll take care of it before the other teams need to," EbonKnight continued. Sister Chaste was red in the face, a not so becoming color as the reporter looked shocked once more.
At that point, Feather's top went flying across the screen, which promptly went black. The news room was silent for a few long moments before the anchor said, "In other news, traffic today..." 