Chapter Text
Quite literally nothing had happened in the last 2 hours. This was not going to be very fun, was it?
And he had put all this effort in!
The newest vigilante to come to the city was sitting atop a billboard, bored out of their mind. The bow next to them was already broken in, the compact shape currently extended and laying with the string towards him. They mindlessly carded a hand through the secondary coverts on one wing.
Cuteguy was going to be a sensation, obviously. Dressed prim and proper in an orange bodysuit, pink shirt, and white trousers and sweater, he looked like the perfect compliment to Hotguy. A better version, if you may.
(He had initially made the costume as a joke, but mocking the number one hero AND stopping crime was funny as the void.)
The only crime Cuteguy would be stopping was the crimes that deserved to be stopped. Murder, muggings, the rich, the standard stuff. “Crimes” such as taking a loaf of bread from some megacorp could be ignored.
The metal below him creaks. They lean forwards slightly, looking down to see absolutely nothing. He was practically begging for Hotguy to come confront him, assume he was a villain, and start a fight. That was largely the point, honestly.
Grian led a decent life outside of the new vigilante thing. He lived with his siblings, had a relatively stable job, and now he got to help the citizens of the city! But while they had time, he needed to think about what information he would release.
First of all, his name and gender. He was quite literally named “Cuteguy”, they could at the very least assume he was a guy. On another hand, Grian didn’t particularly care for gender, so he/they it was. Easy enough.
Second of all, age. That was a lot closer to his real identity, but revealing his actual age would be foolish. 30-ish was the closest they could reveal. Much better than the literal children being heroes these days, however.
Hybrid status was the last thing he needed to consider. He was an angelic avian, which you could tell from his two pairs of wings, but considering the fact that he had no wings as a civilian it may just work. That could be left up to the media, then.
Cuteguy was done contemplating at the very least. He pulls himself up off the metal, snatching the pale pink bow beside them. The matching quiver was sitting tucked between his wings. They jump off of the billboard, flaring out their wings only to see a flash of blue and orange.
He was here!
They drop as fast as possible, trying to keep their wings open enough not to fall and closed enough to avoid being a target. Within a few seconds, their talons hit the ground. Cuteguy clutches his bow tightly, looking around the small alleyway.
It was pretty empty, tucked behind factories and maybe 5 by 5 metres. Some garbage stood in the corner, and a broken streetlight above him. The light was attached to the billboard.
He stepped back, leaning forwards and carefully nocking an arrow. Something moved to his left, and a purple shine showed Cuteguy exactly where his new companion was.
Hotguy was standing around the corner, preparing to burst in and detain them.
He pulled the arrow back. The moment stretched on, silence waking to fill the space around the two men. Something dripped, faintly. Hotguy stepped a bit closer, unaware of the threat. The string on Cuteguy’s bow was tight, and the arrow turned to hopefully catch his leg.
Hotguy finally jumped in and pulled back to shoot Cuteguy, starting to say his precious catchphrase until pain ripped through him and the standardized arrow slammed into a trashbag instead. He collapsed, clutching his thigh with a cry. Cuteguy’s arrow was clean through a muscle, stuck in the meat. They have to resist wincing at the sight.
Hotguy was on one knee, tightly gripping the wound. His black bodysuit was adorned with blue and orange stripes, the Hotguy chevron covering his chest and back. Blood dripped from his leg already.
His bow was left beside him, Hotguy clearly stopped already. Cutguy steps back, continuing to lean forwards and speaking with a slightly offput tone, “It took you a while!”
Their opponent winced instead of speaking. The bun Hotguy kept his hair in was already coming unravelled, strands of hair falling over his face and the blue sunglasses he wore. Grian would have tried to smile, but he couldn’t bring themself to.
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Hotguy let out one last strangled breath before speaking up in the most offended and pain-free voice he could muster.
“You can’t just shoot a man on his own- his own city!”
The new vigilante stayed on their toes, continuing to circle with a second arrow nocked into their quiver. “It’s not yours,” they begin, eyes darting to the security camera aimed at them. He fires an arrow off, crushing through the plastic carapace of it.
There had been a camera? Hotguy hadn’t even noticed it. They must be a more serious threat than the signal had implied. He hopes he can signal Redstone without the new opponent noticing.
He pauses, still looking at them. A hero and a vigilante. The latter looked dangerous. Both arrows they had fired had found their mark, leaving Hotguy reeling. They must have a sharp-shot power. He decides to try and get some information out of them before they fly off. “Why- it could be! I’m the mistres- master of the city, I’m the great and mighty Hotguy! As opposed to you,” he glances for something to call them, eyes settling on the two pairs behind them, “, Pesky Bird!”
“I’m not a bird, I’m Cuteguy.”
Hotguy gasped in indignation before hiding a flinch behind the teeth biting into his cheek. “Cuteguy! You’re making a joke out of my image! I’m not going to… just let you do this, Pesky Bird!”
Cuteguy slips another arrow out of the quiver hidden behind their second set of wings. They step forwards, talons clicking against the rough concrete.
He nocks it and puts the point between Hotguy’s eyebrows, the point razor-light on his skin. “I can kill you, Hotguy. I will come for you.”
Silence bled out like ink. A slight smile creeped onto the hero’s face, the vigilante furrowing their brow slightly. Hotguy casually said “that’s what she said!” before Cuteguy turns bright red and chirps in indignation. They step away, pure offense dripping from the silence’s maw.
“You know I didn’t mean it like that!” Cuteguy yells, Hotguy getting up and holding his leg a little tighter. The distraction of his joke had prevented his opponent from noticing his distress signal to Redstone, begging for backup.
A simple tap to his “watch” had hopefully sent the proper signal. He had 3 or so minutes until Redstone himself arrived, though.
Cuteguy looked even angrier, even though the rosy glasses on his face prevented Hotguy from noticing how the anger was a mask. He stayed upright, probably a miracle. Once he got his footing, Hotguy put a hand up to press against the wall. The blood on his fingers turned into drops on the waterproof suit.
“I would never! I’m a vigilante, for rift’s sake!”
“If you’re a vigilante,” Hotguy breathes, before starting again in a louder tone. “Where are your allies? You could get registered! Hotguy is amazing and all, I see why you copy me, but can’t you pick your own name? Pesky Bird is fine! You could even do everything the same, like Brooke!”
Cuteguy bares his teeth at the notion. “My name shall be Cuteguy. You’re lucky that I haven’t decided to try and go get Pearlstone as an ally.]”
“They would kill you before you got the chance! Heroes are much better allies! On top of that, they’re powered! We don’t even know their hybrid status!”
“I would normally say that hybridity doesn’t matter,”(he notedly doesn’t notice how Hotguy flinches at those words),” but you heroes have changed that! You made it an issue! So what if Pearlstone has frost powers, that means she’ll just be a better ally!”
“They are DANGEROUS! You risk the whole city, let alone the county or country! I- the leaders don’t want that! Pesky Bird, you can’t just kill people! Your actions are going to affect-”
“ Shut UP!” Cuteguy screams, shrill voice snapping through the night, even above the dull sound of engines buzzing around. His chest heaves, looking manic. their bow is discarded to the side, eyes wide and teeth bared. Their hand twitches, and Hotguy flinches.
“You are NOTHING! Your friends don’t care, your colleagues, all of you heroes are the same! Annoying, overblown, stupid, you can’t even keep your mouth shut! I shot you and you still can’t keep your mouth shut!”
Cuteguy steps back, picking the bow up with their left hand and grabbing for an arrow behind him. They laugh, going from a thin laugh into a manic and stilted one. “Maybe I should shoot you again!”
Hotguy flinches again, both his hands coming towards his chest to protect him. He tries in vain to step away, but the arrow in his right thigh causes the limb to give out. Hotguy gasps in pain and Cuteguy’s eyes snap up, shining purple like a cat caught in the headlights of a car. Their wings snap open, simultaneously dull and impossibly loud.
Their perfect feathers are lit by some light out of his view, even as Hotguy looks at the angelic halo of light about Cuteguy.
If they were going to be rivals, at least Cuteguy fulfilled his name.
Nope not thinking that! Noooo thank you, intrusive thoughts!
They stepped away from Hotguy, wings tensing one last time before beating down and throwing Cuteguy into the air. The purple shine in their eyes flickers, and then they were gone.
…huh. Well that was an Experience.
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