Metropolis Rockin' Eve
Roleplaying Log: Metropolis Rockin' Eve
Participants
IC Details
Synopsis:

5… 4… 3… 2… 1!

That's right, Metropolites! It's time, once again, for METROPOLIS' ANNUAL NEW YEAR'S (METEOR) ROCKIN' EVE!

LIVE from LexCorp Plaza with appearances by Lex Luthor, The Artist Formerly Known As Symbol, Bibbo Bibbowski, The Metropolis Sharks, The Cast of Spy School Musical, Ariana Venti, Conan O'Brien and many, many more!

Hosted by television's favorite uncle: Oswald Loomis!

Join us down at LexCorp Plaza or tune in on LXTV for the countdown of a lifetime as we ring in the New Year with style!

Other Characters Referenced:
IC Date: December 31, 2018
IC Location: Metropolis - LexCorp Plaza
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 03 Jan 2019 22:54
Rating & Warnings: F for Fetch
NPC & GM Credits: Lex Luthor (GM), Oswald Loomis / The Prankster (NPC), Ariana Venti (NPC)
Associated Plots

"Welcome back, everyone. As you already know, I'm your host with the most, 'Uncle' Oswald Loomis and you're LIVE! at Metropolis' New Year's Meteor Rockin' Eve!" Loomis adjusts his bow tie and pulls his coat tighter around him. It's chilly, okay? He holds his microphone up as he speaks to the cameraman that's in charge of filming him and the giant crowd that's behind him. "We're about ready for the countdown here. But first, let us take a hearty listen to the Princess of Pop: ARIANA VENTI!"

There's a whole lot of camera panning that happens as the huge stage that's been built into the center of LexCorp Plaza is lit up with all the foolishness of a New Year's Even Outside Bash. As the most horrible pop music that's amazing comes on thanks to both the speakers and the band, there are quite a few dancers that lead the way as the twisted combination of Jojo Siwa, Ariana Grande and Starbucks all collide together into the gyrating body of a formulaic pop star comes onto the stage.

So, while this horrible music is going on because it's one of the top hits from this year, there's a chance for some mingling and chatter. There's also an opportunity to look at the way that LexCorp Plaza has been decorated. Much like some other Rockin' Eves, this one has a giant METEOR that's going to drop when it's time. The meteor rock, which is a glowing 'Kryptonite' Green in color, is hovering above the large 'L' shaped tower that's home to LexCorp. It just hangs there, likely by some cool special effect or whatever, since this entire thing is sponsored by LexCorp, who knows how it's happening.

Oswald Loomis takes a moment to check his watch as many of the Meteor Rockin Eve workers and volunteers start handing out those annoying '2019' Party glasses and other party favors and all that. It's one of those kind of nights.

Lex Luthor watches from his office. Up, Up and Above all. He takes a sip of whatever he's drinking and just… watches.

* * *

"I've always wanted to go to one of these things!"

High up on the roof of a building overlooking the plaza, Firestorm leans against the edge, chin propped up by both hands. "Isn't it awesome, Prof? Even from up here, it still beats watching it on the TV."

There's no one else up there with him, but internally the renowned physicist occupying his mind watches the ongoing with a sigh. It's quite the gathering, he admits, a voice only Firestorm can hear. He can practically see the man shaking his head. "Not your kinda thing, huh? -ooh! I like this song!"

Ignoring the bit of an eyeroll from his backseat driver, the fiery-headed youth leans forward as he eagerly gives his attention to the stage below. Everything's so colorful! Lookit that big green rock! ….he doesn't get it, but it sure makes an impact.

Hah.

* * *

Jessica Jones, Private Eye, is ringing in the New Year with a collosal headache. It is safe to say that she is not a party person. She's cranky, she's introverted, she's had to stop herself from downing booze about four times already. The pop music is pounding at her skull. Her mouth has twisted into a long-suffering expression as she dodges crowd jostles and just sort of turns to pass her 2019 Party Glasses and Party Favors on to some other lucky participant who now has two. As deftly as if she were one of the people handing them out in the first place.

Why she thought being here would tell her *anything* she needed to know she has now concluded she'll never know. And yet something keeps her here, some instinct. Maybe because it's not exactly the first time she's done what amounts to an investigation on an entire city (long story), and instinctively she understands these sorts of events can be as telling as they are annoying.

She carefully works her way over to part of the Plaza where mingling and conversation and, most importantly, zero-point-zero gyrations are taking place.

* * *

There is a reason why Katherine 'Kate' Bishop has decided to embrace the annual New Year's Eve shenanigans in Metropolis and not in her native New York - here, it's easier to be incognito. Here, it is easier to get away from the crowd of Manhattan elites that typically drive her insane, especially during the holidays.

Her only complaint is that it's simply too chilly to wear her usual couture outside.

That isn't to say that she hasn't found a way to dress like a typical, chic, privileged New Yorker, however - everything on her body is designer, and probably costs a few hundred dollars apiece - a double-breasted coat dyed a deep violet flares from the narrow taper of her waist to look like an A-line skirt hugs her shoulders and envelopes over a pair of dark blue jeans tucked into knee-high Loubotin boots, her lengthy, dark tresses half-gathered and tucked in a soft cashmere knit-cap. Much like those of her age in the crowd, she's dancing to the beat, hip-bumping several of the WOO!-girls (you know the ones) twerking (badly) at the heart of it. By all rights, it looks like she's having fun.

Trouble never sleeps though - one of the youngest Avengers/SHIELD agents around, she's always got a JARVIS-powered earbud comm upon her person, disguised as a dangling earring.

* * *

Somewhere else in the crowd, Khalid Nassour finds himself with a pair of those cheesy 2019 glasses while continuously being sandwiched between hardcore fans of Ariana Venti. He's very sure he's lost some of his hearing the second the performance is announced. All of the screaming.

"Is this worth it?" he asks himself aloud, even if no one can really hear him in the noise. He's told himself he shouldn't be out, but the counter-argument against his studious tendencies had brought up some really good points. Especially when the special effects and the dancing amp up. Unfortunately, the fans also amp it up as well, bouncing and jostling against him as he tries to keep some shred of personal space.

But despite its crowded downsides, Khalid's enjoying it. He gets that Shaya couldn't come, but he can at least try to snap a photo or video on his phone for an update.

* * *

"Wooo!" Wally West wails while working it near the plaza's west wall. His arms pump over his head and he spins about excitedly to the music. "This is the best way to ring in the new year /ever/!"

In his pocket, a number of text notifications appear.

Sent from Frankie:

Wally what time are we meeting tonight?
wally?
you do remember our date tonite right
dude
???
why r u such a dick
ok forget this and forget u
go *** urself delete this #

"I'm the king of the world!" Wally shouts to no one in particular, cackling.

* * *

Up, up, and above it all. A figure clad in red, blue, and black floats high over the crowd, high over the buildings, drifting languidly through the night sky, warm despite only a leather bomber jacket emblazoned on the back with an 'S' (to match the one on the front) to keep him warm besides his sleekly contoured super-suit. It's tempting to land amidst the throngs, to gyrate and party and make himself the center of attention— but something about this year's end brings out Superboy's more contemplative, responsible side (tragedy)… and the Dude of Steel is on holiday patrol, instead of joining holiday parties like the one already gearing up at the Titans… TowerMallThing.

SO RESPONSIBLE. He can hear just fine from this height, gifted or cursed by the vibrant popstar base thumping below, the shrill cheers and screeches, all those glorious too-many-people having too-much-booze and too-much-fun things. For a moment he has to wonder: is this what /adulthood/ feels like? It's kind of shit.

It's hard to miss Firestorm, far harder than the speck drifting through the crowds that Kon makes himself, but the Meteor Man at the Meteor Party doesn't really draw the Kryptonian bioweapon's attention— he spreads his senses out, listens, looks. There's always trouble. That's the lesson of these last few months; hell, these last few -years-.

* * *

It's New Years, and a party, and Matropolis. So, there will be trouble… there's always trouble. Rather than standby at SHIELD HQ qith one of the quick-response teams, Bobbi Morse decided to be on-site, just in case. To make things even more fun, she decided to do in street clothes rather than in SHIELD uniform or as Mockingbird. She's found herself lurking near the front of the crowd near the main stage, dressed in a pair of nice black denim jeans, a heavy crimson sweater an unarodned scarf and a black leather biker jacket.

* * *

There's a blur in the sky, and suddenly, Conner has company.

Kara Zor-El is not in costume. She has an appropriately ludicrous teen 'winter' outfit, with the fuzzy-collar waist length jacket, skirt and tights, vs. anything warmer looking. Of course, it's all pretty academic, comfort-wise, but she likes fitting in. "You're not even going to try and enjoy the party?" she wonders, as she hovers beside her sorta whatever kind of cousin he is. "Even if we can watch fine from up here… just look at that crowd, all the people crushed together, dancing. Isn't it exciting? They… they never partied like this, on Krypon." Buncha nerds, those guys.

Really, as the question goes, it's rhetorical. SHE is going to join in, and whether or not Kon does, well, that's up to the Super Dude. "C'mon! Or don't, whatever!"

And just like that, she's gone again, zipping around out of immediate sight of the cameras covering the event and approaching on the ground, walking into the crowd. "Woo! I love you Arianna!"

What? Kryptonian or no, she's still a teen girl, and eats this perfectly marketed crap right up!

* * *

Ariana Venti decides it is high time she start paying closer attention to her fans so she and her dancers make room on the stage and start grabbing people from the crowd to bring them up on the stage for some dancing.

Wait, wait. No. Is she making a Soul Train Line on stage?!

This party is getting /wild/. And SOULFUL.

Somehow she's able to sing like she does in the studio while being live and dancing around. It's almost as if this whole thing is recorded or something.

* * *

Jessica zigs when she should zag and…

There's a dancer pulling her along.

"Oh, hey, no, I don't…"

She's on the stage. Looking out of place in ratty jeans, leather jacket, ratty grey scarf, messy hair, zero make up. And now she's…oh she's in a line. Oh, some other stranger's hands are on her. "Guys, really, I'm— look, I'm not a fan, I don't even know this song. Oh, fuck my life. No! I don't dance…"

Somehow everyone dancing all around her manages to give the impression that she is dancing too. The one who grabbed her up there is moving her arms all about and Jessica just flat eyes, like some sort of exceptionally unfortunate Grumpy Cat. "Yes. Great. Woo."

* * *

She follows the WOO!-girls, who are practically Ariana Venti's tribe, following their fearless leader into the very heights of the glitzy urban jungle.

Upon arrival, Kate dances along as if she belongs there. She does end up nearly tilting into a taller figure, however - someone incredibly familiar. Dark blue eyes widen faintly - she hasn't seen the private investigator in about a year.

"Jessica Jones," the young woman remarks, surprise on her pale face. "I didn't know you were a woo!-girl!"

* * *

Historians of the great heroes of this era may ask: Why was Poison Ivy here? The answer is simple and deflating if also relatively secret, for now.

There is not a ton to distinguish her right now because she is wearing a black pea-coat buttoned up tight against the December breeze and has put a couple of pins in her hair, bunching it up into something approximating the outline if not the precision of a bob.

She is also hanging out near the west wall.

So, some woman says to Wally West, "Your phone's blowing up," even as a ripple of chaotic WHOOs ripple through the air like some kind of horrible hideous howling of herbivorous animals running IN, Ivy thinks, to RIP the innocent jungle ASUNDER, like LOCUSTS on TWO LEGS -

She puts her hands to her face and breathes in deeply, then breathes it out.

Her eyes turn towards the man near her. Her lips purse.

Straightening, she turns to face him and says as she reaches up to draw him into a brief half-embrace and get her face up near to his, "Ex/cuse/ me, your majesty, but could you help me out? This is my first time in Metropolis! I think I lost my date — can you get me a little closer to the stage? I don't think I can *push it* through all these people on my own."

Ivy adds, unenthusiastically, "Whoo." Somehow it may seem very compelling and endearing to Wally.

* * *

Out in the plaza, Wally joins another building dance line, since it's clear to many of the attendees that they're not remotely close enough to the stage to get up on it.

"This is /so fun/!" cries one half of what is clearly a middle-aged parental couple out on the town.

Wally pats the husband's shoulder and grins. "You got it, man," he offers as the impromptu crew attempts to maneuver closer toward the pop sensation and the 'real' dance line.

"Come on ride the train!" drunkenly shouts another of the ubiquitous 'woo' girls.

Just then, Wally's attention is caught by a woman who becomes quite friendly. "/Can/ I?" he asks with a sheepish grin. "You stick by me and we'll be up there in no time…"

He reaches out for the woman's hand and begins dance-pushing his way through the crowd.

Another text notification on Wally's phone appears.

u dick i can see you on tv RIGHT NOW u r the opposite of fetch

* * *

It's gotta be strange times when Superboy is being the Responsible one here. Firestorm? He hadn't come down to this shindig to work! He's been getting use out of his nuclear-powered frequent flyer miles. Unfortunately for Martin Stein, he gets dragged along for the ride.

I thought you were just coming by to pick me up for New Year's dinner? he asks pointedly while Ronnie-storm dances about on the roof to the phat bass beats. Stein can only feel embarrassed for the both of them, seeing as how Ronnie's oblivious to how silly he might look dancing up here alone.

"Woo! This is awes— Wha? You say something Professor? Oh! Yeah, yeah- I mean, that was the plan and we'll get there but I just thought hey since we can like, fly from one city to another in no time, why not??? We can zip back to New York in time for the ball drop and mom's making it a late dinner anyway!"

That's…

Firestorm ignores the sigh of his better mental-half as he cups his hands around his mouth to WOOO!! it up from above.

* * *

" —Hold on." Khalid texts, then holds up his phone at an awkward angle. He shifts his backpack to counterbalance his weight against the ever-changing movements of the fans, hitting the front-facing camera button on the screen. After a few seconds of hitting the other button, he brings the phone back down to get a better look at it.

…A selfie master, he is not. But hey, he has evidence that he's there. Look, it's his arm!

"S, look at what you're missing," he mutters to himself as he taps away, belatedly noticing that he is now going in the same direction the rest of the people being pulled out for the soul train are headed. "Hey, wait— no, NO, I don't wanna go this way— "

NOW: Khalid's on stage, joining Jessica, Kate, and whoever else is up there, staring at everything like a deer in headlights.

"…Uh."

A half-hearted attempt at a disco pose is made. Maybe they won't notice??

* * *

Bobbi is not a Woo-girl, but she WAS ner the front of the stage and so gets swept up in the swarm of loc… dancers. Probably she seems very out of place up there, not being dressed like the young fans nor is she a teenager. Probably there are some strange looks.

* * *

If Ariana Venti isn't a distraction, Oswald Loomis don't know what is. Television's Favorite Uncle pops back up in the middle of Ariana's performance. His eyes are watering slightly and may be a different color than they were before but nobody's looking that close. Plus, it's kind of cold out here so that's probably why this all happened.

Ariana and the Legion of WOO make sure that they keep everyone on stage as Ariana finishes the 'singing' of her song with a note that's extended far beyond the capability of any actual lungs. Especially with all that dancing for however many minutes this horribly amazing song has been. It's also just a coincidence that Ariana is talking when the end of the song is being sung. Weird. Must be a time delay on television or something.

Back to Loomis!

"Alright! We don't even have time for a commercial break because according to my watch…" Loomis goes into his pocket and comes out with a Flavorful Flave sized pocket watch, holds it up to the camera and shows the digital read out being: 11:59 and what not.

"It's COUNTDOWN TIIIIIIIIIIIIME!"

There's all sorts of Pee-Wee Herman sound effects as the entire crowd in LexCorp Plaza stares up at the Meteor Rock as it starts to fall in time with the counting down that's happening all across the crowd!

"TEN! NINE! EIGHT! SEVEN!"

You get the drill, right?

Countdown Mini-Montage GO!

* * *

Strange times. Difficult times. /Confusing/ times. All of that and more defines Kon-El's year end, and yes: he's trying to be The Responsible One. He has big, red boots to fill, okay? Don't judge him. He still knows how to party: even if this isn't /quite/ his scene. He opens his mouth to start to explain some of this to Kara: but it's needless. She's heedless off into the fray below, and the Dude of Steel just snerks half a smile, mostly out of one corner of his mouth, and shakes his head.

Rather than join the dancing, he just soaks in the 'live' music, scans the crowd, eyeballs that bigass meteor and the countdown it correlates to. Maybe this is all going to be okay, right? Maybe Superboy is just being silly, insisting on patrol, on -working- away his New Years Eve for, well, the first time since he hatched from not-an-egg into this sick, sad, compellingly intriguing world.

The Kryptoclone frowns thoughtfully, and drifts to peruse the gathering from another angle, still listening for anything going wrong below, rather than diving into the celebration. The conflicting emotions and overanalysis are expressed in a -profound- sigh, swiftly lost on the wind. What -is- he becoming!?!

* * *

Face to face with Kate Bishop, declaring her to be a woo!-girl. Jessica Jones just sighs and mutters, "Kill me now," under her breath. It's probably lost in the woo! but the sentiment is there.

More audibly, with a tight, sardonic smile— crap, she's being spun. She's being spun and she does not know why she's being spun. The spin finishes, the product and fault of a gorgeous back-up singer with long legs who continues to hold Jessica captive, and this gives her an opportunity to deliver the snark she was about to deliver before this travesty occurred.

"Yeah, I can't imagine why a crack detective like you wouldn't have guessed that right away, Bishop. I mean. Don't I just radiate woo-person?"

And then it's over. Jessica has survived. And of course, is the one to point out, "Oh. Look. She lip syncs."

This is why Jess really shouldn't go anywhere fun. But hey, countdown. The New Year will be upon them and she can probably call tonight a wrap. She shoots poor Khalid a tight smile, recognizing someone else who most likely got Woonapped.

* * *

"Do me a favor," Ivy murmurs into Wally's ear as she moves to get towards The Train, with her new escort. "I'm really shy, but can you just hold this up? Like way above your head? I'll help you. I just really want to hide my face, okay?" 'This' turns out to be a folded-up piece of cardboard, which has been written on - though it will take unfolding to reveal the details.

"Thank you SO much," Ivy says - before pausing as she feels Wally's phone buzz again. To herself she thinks unkind thoughts.

She turns her head around. This place feels different, Ivy thinks. Maybe it's the buildings being newer.

* * *

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Wally says in a half-daze. "Whatever you want, gorgeous." He continues to grin and holds up the sign.

When his phone buzzes, he looks down with a moment's embarrassment. "Uh, sorry that my crotch is vibrating. That's like a compliment, though, right?"

Wally clears his throat awkwardly and turns to wave the sign about, still pushing his way through the crowd. "Happy new year Metropolis!" he shouts.

* * *

They're letting people on stage? Oh Kara is SO there. Even if that means a little judicious super speed. And also maybe some super PUSHING BITCHES OUT OF HER WAY, mkay thank you coming through.

"Woo!" Yep, now she's one of them. "This is so much fun!" While Conner hasn't come down after her, she can perfectly well still see him up there, she makes a point of waving up at him from the stage, grinning big. It's very much a 'hey look at me down here having fun why you so lame Kon?' look, combined with a bit of teasing in the form of her hip-checking a girl dancing near her (maybe even Kate or poor party pooper Jessica?!).

Still, it should be said that Kara's not up there to tease her cousin or for the chance to be on TV. Among the Superfam, she's the one with the artistic, musical soul, and after that exchange with the heavens, she just lets herself fall into things, feeling the music, the thrill of the people dancing around her. It's so wonderul!

Her wonder lasts through the very end of that last, artificially-enhanced note, before it's sadly all over. Yet just as quickly it's countdown time. And she is so into it!

"TEN! NINE! EIGHT! SEVEN!"

* * *

Catching a glimpse of the tight smile Jess sends his way, Khalid lopsidedly grins back. It's not the most debonair look on his dumb face, but he understands the feeling is mutual, being up on a stage they aren't supposed to be on.

Maybe he can salvage this. Save face, in a way. He practically slaps the 2019 glasses he still has in his hand directly onto his face, looking dorkier while ducking behind one of the taller party goers so that he isn't too visible. Right as the countdown is going down.

Maybe one last photo attempt, for old time's sake. "Eight." * CLICK. * "Seven."

Bad shot — it's his forehead and part of the glasses.

"SIX!" he shouts instead of another word that would have gone here.

* * *

She spins like a champ - photographic reflexes would do that; it's one of the many reasons why Kate Bishop manages to keep the Hawkeye moniker without embarrassing herself. But with her cover intact in Jessica Jones' world, there's a hint of a grin cast the private investigator's way as she moves along with the Legion of WOO! "I must be losing my touch," she sighs dramatically. "Maybe I oughta turn my license in now and take up another career entirely. Like a Rockette. You think I got the legs for it?"

With Jessica pointing out the pop world's most poorly kept secret, she gasps. To her credit, she even manages to make it convincing. "She does? Say it ain't so!"

And the countdown begins.

"TEN!" the young woman cries gamely, throwing her arm around Khalid, if not just because he's the nearest victim within reach of her. "NINE! EIGHT! SEVEN! SI— whoa who is that, he's kind of hot— "

This said as Conner Kent flies across the crowd.

With her higher vantage point, she takes the opportunity to let her blue eyes sweep through the crowd, making note of where everything is, keeping track of the changes in her environment. It's what she does. She can't help it.

This does mean the camera shot only gets the top of her head, being in the same frame as Khal.

* * *

"SIX! FIVE! FOUR!"

The Meteor Rock is almost where it needs to be, okay? We're making this dramatic.

"THREE!"

Oswald Loomis' eyes glint as the Meteor Rock passes by them. There's like a thin layer of something that makes it glint. Normal eyes don't glint

"TWO!"

Lex Luthor finishes his drink and steps away from the glass of the window and disappears from being within viewing range of this falling rock.

"ONE!"

THE METEOR ROCK crashes into LexCorp Plaza and EXPLODES. Well, not really. But there's light that shines and swirls and smacks all around. Hopefully into the EYES of all those gathered. The light is not just any ordinary light though. It's something a bit more along the lines of strobenotic suggestion because a whole crowd of people are about to find themselves instantly reverted…. mentally… to a time when things didn't need to make sense. When everything was the end of the world. A time when everything mattered but nothing really did.

A time when they were called, quite possibly, the worst thing to ever be called.

TWEENAGERS.

* * *

The sign that Ivy gave Wally to hold up said two things on it:

On top: Happy New Year, but the H was a red-blue checkerboard pattern. It's very camera-catching. On bottom: 'Death to the polluters and violators who have fattened their wallets on our Mother in 2019' with a kiss print on the end. That part's in cursive, but it's pretty clear in the HD feed.

Ivy then ducks low and turns as if to get away from Wally — will this spare her the consequences of that DARK ACT? The horrid EXPLOSION? Maybe.

* * *

Hip checked! Jessica starts as Kara does this, and she pulls a bit of a face at the young woman, without really giving her any grief about it. Then Bishop is questioning her own crack detective work. She's opening her mouth to present the evidence of the scandal she has uncovered, only to realize nobody cares, because, yes, New Year still ringing in.

And then there's light everywhere. The detective flings up her arms to shield against it.

And this is pretty much all that happens to Jessica, because mental effects don't really work on her. Now one can have all manner of arguments about how her normal mental state isn't all that mature, as a manner of speaking, on where she actually stands on the spectrum, at any given moment, between Raging Trash Fire and Responsible Adult (Tweening being somewhere in the middle of said spectrum, perhaps). But any behavior or thought process on that spectrum continues to remain hers and hers alone, which means for the moment all she notices is, "Obnoxious, much?"

* * *

"What the fuuu -"

Wally throws his hands in front of his face to block the sudden bright lights from blinding him. The large sign goes flying into the air.

As he realizes what he's done, Wally attempts to catch the sign. "Oh crap I'm sorry, hot woman!" he spits out at super-speed, before reading the sign. "Wait. What?"

He slows back down to look around for his companion. "Where'd she go?"

"Dude," someone next to Wally says. "Why you gotta be such a buzzkill?"

* * *

"FIVE! FO— Augh, really? Oh- hey mom! Uuuhhhrrr… Yeah! Yeah. I got the Professor with me. We um, kinda took a detour and I kinda got caught up in the—"

"ONE!"

"-aw crap I missed it!!" Firestorm scowls, backlit by the inevitable meteor drop and the brilliance to follow. He whips around, the flames on his head trailing with his abrupt motion. Sighing he lifts his phone to his ear again.

"Happy New Year, mom. Be over as soon as we can. Buh-bye."

He taps his phone off and slips it into a pocket, looking back out over the plaza below. "Guess there's no point in sticking around, huh Prof?"

So it seems, Ronald. Now, perhaps we should… Stein trails off, Firestorm tilting his head curiously. "Professor Stein?"

What in the world is going on down there? A riot of sorts? Surely it can't be because they've discovered the singer was lip-syncing.

"Whaaaat?! You mean she wasn't really singing live?!?"

Oh Ronald…

* * *

Ariana Venti drops to the stage, in /tears/ as a glimpse into the reflective outfit of one of her dancers shows her as her previous tweenage self. Braces. Headgear. Clearasil. The whole nine yards.

She sobs loudly.

It sounds better than her singing. And is probably annoying because she's still on mic.

* * *

"ONE!" Kate cries. "HAPPY NEW YEA— "

And the world explodes in a field of color so bright that it sears her eyeballs painfully and considering who she is and what she does for a living, its effects are potentially devastating - it's what happens when you can literally see and remember everything within a certain-mile radius. Letting go of Khalid, she staggers back a little, her fingers against her eyelids, blinking rapidly as tears start to form on the corners. They could be tears of pain.

Or are they?

She shakes her head hard, and she turns to look at Khalid, and for some reason, her mind travels back - to rows of lockers and a posh boarding school, and a tall, dark-haired boy—

"YOU!"

Her hand whips back, and unless he ducks, it travels at least thirty miles per hour to slap Khalid's dorky New Year's Eve sunglasses sideways.

"I HEARD FROM SARAH WHO HEARD FROM EVE WHO HEARD FROM SHANEQUA WHILE SHE WAS AT THE WEST SIDE HILLS PAVILION HOT TOPIC WITH EDDIE THAT YOU CALLED ME BUCK-TEETH BISHOP AND HOW DARE YOU DENTAL OCCLUSIONS ARE A SERIOUS PROBLEM 85 PERCENT OF ADOLESCENTS GET THEM I WASN'T ALONE!"

* * *

Well. This is different. Not only is he still staring at his phone and debating on sending the new photo, but he's just realizing there's an extra weight belonging to an arm looped around his shoulders. Sneakered feet quickly steady Khalid so that he doesn't fall over, glancing back up right as the cheering goes wild and the bright flash of green light dims. "I missed something," he breathes, blinking as things clear up. He looks at Kate (who is pretty hot herself), then to Jess, slowly arching a brow once he shifts his blue-gray gaze over to the other people that are now acting strange. Or stranger, since this is New Year's Eve.

He just looks baffled by the sudden Venti change among all of the other reactions happening at once. Then he doubletakes back to the woman at his side. "Wait, wha— "

*SLAP!*

And there goes Khalid's glasses, flying into the crowd and decking some dude who started hyperventilating.

"OW!" he yells, hunched over as he holds the side of his face. "What the hell— who said?? What!?"

* * *

The lights flash, shit goes sideways— sort of. At SUPER SPEED, Kon-El covers his eyes— coincidentally, he's also wearing shades— but his arm is not faster than the SPEED OF LIGHT. Just really close, swear. It's amazing. He gets a wash of the compulsion to be Even More Immature; possibly from the mind control, possibly just because his lot in party-life tonight /sucks/. "Man this is such utter bulls" Wait a minute. Why is everyone below descending into petty bickering and shenanigans? The Dude of Steel frowns, he frowns /big/. He shakes his head briskly in the night air though whether this clears it or clouds it is anyone's guess, because in the next minute he's shooting -off- into the night sky, deeper into Metropolis.

He knows just how to solve this. He knows just how to be the Biggest Damn Hero. It doesn't take long for Superboy to return, zooming in past the speed of sound with a resoundingly high, towering mass of— pizza boxes?!?— in his capable arms. They're so many people high, like you can't even imagine how many pizzas. God knows how many pizzerias and parties are now without pizza. It's for a higher cause. The Dude of Steel descends above the crowd like that savior allegory shot in Man of Steel, his impossible stack held aloft and perfect by TACTILE TELEKINESIS.

"HEY PARTY PEOPLE!!" Kon-El yells out with SUPER LUNGS. "Pizza from the SKY!!!" This is how you deal with unruly tweens. You, Bart, he learned it from watching you. With his Kryptonian Strength channeled invisibly through remote touching, he even has relative control over his stash, and with the aforementioned super speed, he hands it out with APLOMB, distracted as many as possible with deliciousness and sheer CELEBRITY. Is he regressed? Is he incredibly wise? The WORLD MAY NEVER KNOW.

* * *

Shaking his head and blinking, Wally attempts to locate the source of the angry voice beside him. By the time he identifies a potential culprit, he's staring at a twelve-year-old who's posturing for a fight.

"Uh, sorry, little guy," Wally says with a grimace. "I think you're out of your weight class." Then, he pauses and reflects on the sound of his own voice. "Did someone leak helium?" He looks around at all the tweens and sighs. "Did I end up at the wrong party? What's going on?"

Then, there's a shout about airborne pizza. "Is Bart's birthday today?" Wally whispers to himself, still somewhat dazed. "Did I forget that? No." Then his eyes grow wide. "Wait. Oh, crap. I forgot -"

He checks his phone and then presses his hand to his face. "Happy new year to me," he says in a pre-teen voice through gritted teeth.

* * *

Some Rando. No, seriously, that's his name: Suman Randovitch. He runs up onto the stage and snatches up a microphone. "YEAAAAAAAAAH! KARAOKE BITCHES!" He starts making some musical sounds with his mouth. "COME TOGETHER! RIIIIIIIGHT NAAAAAOOOOOOW!"

In the midst of all this tomfoolery, Oswald Loomis just grins from his perch of safety. He's just watching his handiwork from up and above the chaos that's happening down below. "Oh, Ozzie. You've outdone yourself this time." More snarkish grinning.

Back to the stage, "COME TOGETHAAAAAAAAAH!"

Somewhere else in the crowd there's a Michael Jackson Dance Off happening. It's so fetch.

* * *

"…everyone's gone nuts down there," Firestorm observes, frowning as he studies the people below and their varying responses having been mentally tween-swapped. "What the heck happened? Wait is that Superboy? With free pizza??"

He's not affected, but it might be difficult to tell right off the back. Internally Professor Stein sighs again.

Something's not right, he says. While he's no expert in the behavior of young people these days this doesn't seem quite natural, and even Ronnie has to agree. It's the New Year. People are usually singing and stuff, right?

"Come on, Prof. We better see what's up," Firestorm announces, hopping up onto the ledge and then closer to the stage set up on the plaza below. He pauses to stare at the guy that's went right for centerstage and the mic.

"Yeah, this is definitely weird."

* * *

Kara doesn't think twice about the light display from the meteor-thing. She's here for the light show and she's gonna get one! And even if she can possibly see something wonky in the odd arrangement of the light's wavelengths, the same way she might peek in on a radio broadcast or other such transmission, what precisely is wrong with it doesn't occur to her until long after she's been hit.

That said, her reaction is very, very strange. Across the stage, people revert to their most selfish, immature, undisciplined ages. For Kara, what it means to be a human teenager is something she's learned in the last few months. It's something she's clung to, in an attempt to fit in on an alien world. She reverts, but to something… very, very different:

« What is this nonsense?! » she suddenly demands, speaking in Kryptonian. « Kon-El! » Her eyes snap to the flying pizza delivery boy, full of annoyance. « What are you doing? Obviously something is very wrong in this situation. The light-waves were altered. We must address the situation! »

See, Krypton doesn't really have shopping malls, let alone Hot Topics. It has a Science Council. It is a planet full of superintelligent nerd-people with little tolerance for youthful shenanigans. On Krypton, all these 'teens' would be attending lessons on quantum physics and even more esoteric topics. To her, the full on teenage rampage is now a display of the utmost failure of discipline and education.

And Kon, well, he is the worst! He ought know better!

In this persona, Kara also seems somewhat less cognizant of her powers, recent as they are to her life. « The device is no longer active, and so we must assume that it has created some kind of ongoing chemical state or psychological programming. We must calculate a necessary EM pattern to counteract the effect! Assist me in the calculations! »

* * *

What, Khalid says. Poor Avatar of Fate, faced by one of the most fearsome creatures alive: an angry, tweenaged Manhattan socialite. Her large, dark eyes are full of tears at her remembered slight, and for some reason, she's got the full braces headgear on, now, to correct said dental occlusion problem that eighty-five percent of adolescents have.

"It's so hard," Kate weeps. "And you're making fun of me. Do you know how hard it is to be all of this— " And she gestures up and down her body. "But with a smile like this?"

She pulls her mouth wide.

It looks like the Third Circle of Hell just opened up.

But lo and behold, pizza falls from the sky. A box lands neatly on her hands as she continues railing on Khalid.

"WHEN I SMILE I LOOK LIKE GARY BUSEY— oh hey, pizza. Hold this."

And with that she rips off the contraption off her head and hands it to the hapless med student, and walks off with her cheese pizza.

Apparently doesn't just have a tween's penchant for social drama, but also one's attention span.

* * *

One Jessica Jones lowers her arms to stare at Kate Bishop in disbelief. "Wha—?"

She tries to step between Kate and Khalid. "What the fuck's gotten into you, Bishop? Your teeth are fine and you just assaulted a fellow woo or whatever…"

Why is everyone suddenly holding a pizza?

Jessica nods slowly. "Right," she mutters. "I'm not even here. Someone just slipped me the really good drugs."

Then Hipcheck is babbling away. "Hey, um, tu comprende Inglais? Tu? Is it tu? Goddamn it. Look, you got to get off the stage, kid, Bishop's lost it…oh, no, she has pizza, apparently she's all good." Jess thinks it's just a Bishop thing right now, apparently. She tries to take the young Avenger's shoulders and maybe steer her off the stage. "Come on. We'll…get you some Midol or something."

* * *

PIZZA RIOTS!

That's right, pizza is all over the place and everybody's trying to get a slice. There's one 'tween' named Kevin that's going around shoving everyone that's eaten a slice of plain cheese pizza because it was supposed to be for him. He also mutters something about keeping the change and filthy animals. It's annoying. But may cause some more violent outbursts.

Ariana Venti ends up sitting with the cast of Victorious or people that just look like it because that's what kind of pop culture references happen in this time of the shenanigans.

* * *

"I think you broke my freaking jaw," Khalid says under his breath as Kate explains her tweenage problem, reworking his mouth to make sure everything is still in place.

Quick self-assessment: nothing feels like it's sticking out. Something feels like it's burning, but that may be all on the exterior of his face instead of under the skin. So he should be okay.

As he looks back at the girl (a girl, in full brace headgear), he leans back a little. The obvious look of surprise and confusion shifts to guilt over something he's very sure he didn't do or say, waving his phone around in a placating gesture. "L-look, I never said that! I don't even know you! I think everything just went nuts…"

And she smiles. And he can't disagree.

Thank whoever for Jessica and the box of pizza interrupting their drama. He audibly 'oofs,' sinking further into confusion once Kate is appearsed with a slice.

"…Y'know, now would be a great time for some advice, Nabu," he grumbles to himself right as Jessica is out of range with the tween.

* * *

Superboy kind of blinks as he's being— dressed down he thinks?— by a very irate Kara. What does she even WANT? The Dude of Steel doesn't sweat it too much: instead, he focuses on placating the PIZZA RIOTS. At super-speed, Kon flies this way, Kon flies that way. He's very efficient at delivering pies to the hot zones, as god intended. Where people are getting too out of sorts: suddenly, pizza.

Where people are finishing pizza: suddenly, more pizza. He darts hither, he darts yon, he solves this problem with meat and cheese atop one very large crouton. Or something like that. He gives thumbs up, he gives toothpings, he poses for selfies amidst screaming throngs that are a little MORE excited than usual to see him (if that's possible).

He gives Kate a big thumbs up, and an encouraging, "You are -totally- hot, chill, eat pizza!" And she gets half a pie to compensate her for her… totally legit trauma, or something. "ManIhopesomeoneactuallyknowswhattheheckisgoingon…" Kon mutters nervously to himself. He's got a hell of a tower (seriously, it's so much pizza) but it's only buying time, at the end of the night.

* * *

Try as he might, Firestorm just has no idea where he should even be looking to try getting ….whatever's going on, worked out. But look! Flying people!

"Hey hey! Superboy, right? And-oooh hay there gurl. Er, Supergurl. Girl. Hi."

Don't mind the guy with his head on fire and the colorscheme that looks like he might've ripped off of Iron Man. (He totally did not.) "So um. 'sup? This…none of this going on down there is normal, right?"

* * *

« Kon-El! Why are you ignoring me? I will report this behavior to the Council! »

Fortunately the council is all DEAD (or at best, in a bottle somewhere), so it's not ACTUALLY much of a threat, even if Conner could make out what she was saying. Still! Kara is very upset, feeling overwhelmingly like the only grownup in a mosh-pit full of ignorant monkeys.

There's some weirdness to it all, too. Kara still, subconsciously via the deeper connections language formation entails, understands English, and her mind is processing what is happening based on what is being spoken. She just doesn't put two and two together that she should be communicating in the same fashion, nor does she seem to grasp the context of the situation. Does she even now she's on Earth? If not, Krypton really went to shit.

Mostly, she does a lot of frustrated yelling. Kon isn't answering, so there's Jessica, who yells at her in spanish. « I require assistance, and someone who is proficient in both primitive electrical engineering- » Even regressed, she remembers to insult Earth technology! « And visual-cortex electrostimulative programming. Have you taken the appropriate selective courses? »

Obviously, she strikes out.

And so it goes on like this for a while, with her demand assistance from people in her weird languages. There's Firestorm, too, but he… is also acting much like Conner, for whatever reason. Nor does she like how he's looking at her, exactly! « Your leering is unseemly. Are you capable of assisting me? » She also turns and points up at the Meteor-device. But it doesn't occur to her to actually fly up to it.

* * *

Led away from the stage, Kate is busy weeping at Jessica, her box of cheese pizza open, though there's really only a few slices left. She's chewing it through her thankfully brace-less maw, blubbering how teenaged boys are the worst and how she is NEVER talking to them ever again.

This is when Superboy hands her an additional half-pie of cheese pizza and tells her she's hot. And like any tweenaged girl confronted by a particularly attractive celebrity in a tight t-shirt, jeans and a leather jacket, she gets all big eyed and rosy-cheeked. "Y-you really think so?" she asks, hopefully, the words coming out of her in a misty sigh. "I really love your— "

And this is when some 'tween' named Kevin comes right out of her blindside, roaring about how all the cheese pizza is for him. The box goes flying, the slices splattering all over the pavement. Kate stares at the lost pizza in disbelief.

Slowly, she turns around to fix that dark blue glare on Kevin.

After a few minutes, somewhere atop Metropolis' main square, where all the digital marquees are set up, is breaking news - of Manhattan socialite Katherine Bishop, youngest daughter of publishing magnate Derek Bishop, doing what could only be described as 'pizza-boarding' an older, blonde-haired man who looks suspiciously like Macaulay Culkin, rubbing a quarter of a pie right into his face and attempting to smother him with mozzarella and sauce.

"Is this your home?!" she cries, incensed. "ARE YOU TOO GOOD FOR YOUR HOME?! HARRY STILES AND I WERE HAVING A MOMENT!!"

Like the movie, Kevin is screaming, except he can't clap his hands on either sides of his face.

* * *

The detective had been listening with increasing skepticism to Kate's babbling. But then the girl decides to assault someone.

And Jessica leaps up to try to bodily haul Kate off of this guy. "Kate! Christ!"

But this has at last drawn her attention to the fact that everyone seems to have lost their mother-loving shit, and she slow pans around. There's the girl from…Finland? It must be Finland…pointing up and babbling away, there's a bunch of other people acting like morons. Even as she tries to process it, she groans. "Oh come on. Tell me someone didn't just shoot the crowd with a mind control beam. Or a stupidity activation beam. Or any kind of beam. Beams are bad. Beams are always bad."

Not that this sudden revelation stops her from doing her best to save Kevin.

* * *

Distraught over his breakup-via-text, tween Wally zips through the crowd, binge-eating pizza flavored by his tears.

"I need this!" he sobs, voice too fast for anyone to understand - assuming they could through all the pizza in his mouth as he apologizes.

* * *

White eyes squint at Supergirl as the Kryptonian babbles in some language that is definitely not English. "Prof, is it just me, or is she speaking like…alien?" he asks…utterly no one beside him, even though he brings a hand up as though to aside to someone else.

Your guess is as good as mine, Ronald. Needless to say, this won't at all help- Although it seems that she at least has her head on straight in comparison to most of the others. Perhaps she knows what's happening.

Firestorm nods, looking back at Supergirl and then following her motion as she points up towards the big meteor prop.

"Something up there? I can't- I don't know what you're saying. Why don't we go on up and have a looksie?" He gestures upwards, turns and starts to fly, only to halt and come back down to where she is when he realizes she's not following. "Uhhh… Supergirl? Are we not…going up?"

* * *

Kara looks frustrated, staring back at the flying, on-fire person who is somehow, despite having /all/ of that going for him… not being helpful. « Yes, we must go up there. The device triggered whatever is happening via a controlled visual-spectrum emission. It should be possible to trigger a reverse effect, but we would need to use the device. »

But no, she's not flying. She just keeps babbling and pointing at the damn thing! What kind of weirdos fly? You'd need some kind of whacky yellow sun for that. Preposterous!

* * *

The Tweenage Effect lasts exactly as long as the age of a Tweenager…. 13 Minutes.

After about that long, the effects start to wear off and people will start returning to normal. With a complete knowledge and remembrance of what just happened and how they were acting for exactly the first thirteen minutes of 2019. It's just that kind of weird mind altering thing.

Someone, somewhere, on the stage is karaoke-ing The Cure but it trails off as the 13th Minute kicks in. It's just kind of all together in that way that things come together at the end of an episode of a teen sitcom.

Uncle Oswald Loomis is doing that thing where he makes sure he's not around for the Tweenage Coppers to turn back into Adult Coppers because it's always easiest to Prank and Run Away in order to live to Prank another day.

And to give these heroes a chance to investigate such strange things afoot at everywhere but the Circle K.

* * *

And just like that, the Tweenage Effect starts to fade.

Kate is still crying about her cheese pizza when Jessica Jones manages to save grown-up Kevin McAllister's life by prying the young woman off him, and in the passing minutes, her life starts to make sense again. Horrific memories and insecurities from her terrible early adolescence fade away and she slowly tilts her head back to look up at the disgruntled and exasperated face of Jessica Jones.

Her head feels like a watermelon about to explode, and she groans, reaching up with a spare hand to rub at her eyes. Thankfully, she doesn't know about the digital marquees broadcasting her indiscretion to all of Metropolis, but chances are, she's going to definitely hear about this from her father tomorrow.

"…what happened…?" she groans, finding her footing on unsteady legs, still leaning against Jessica. "…my head feels weird. Was it an attack? Was anyone hurt?"

Pause.

Everything comes flooding back and she groans, dropping her forehead into the private investigator's shoulder.

"How badly did I embarrass myself in front of the super-hotness in the leather jacket…?" Asked as she's led away.

* * *

As Wally returns to a physically-adult-but-emotionally-still-kind-of-a-tween form, he continues to zip around, wiping away tears.

"I need this!" he mumbles, bits of pepperoni flying everywhere as he grabs slices from those not keeping a close watch on their meal.

Then, he runs away to continue binging - at home.

* * *

What's the solution to a crowd of people reverting with embarassment and varied levels of agony and regret from their petty bickering, occasional fist-fighting, and sheer revolution brought on by the jockeying for various pizza toppings of choice? Why, more pizza, of course. Kon-El lands amidst the crowds here and there to hand out the rest, and reassure everyone that they're going to be okay— it's okay now, right?

Jesus, how is he -still- the responsible one in this mess? At least, if we discount the blonde demanding everyone do higher math in a language -literally no one else here understands-. Superboy distracts everyone he can with reaffirming words, selfies, autographs, and super-hotness. He gives so many thumbs ups, he loses -all- his pizza— and crap, he wanted to take some of that home with him. The sacrifices he makes for the greater good.

He descends next to Kara with exactly two slices left, one of which is (begrudgingly) offered over in peace offering. "You're a gibbering, useless mess when the chips are down, you know." He helpfully, and very sarcastically, informs Supergirl, scanning the crowd for signs of what the -hell- just happened… and coming up a little short, a gloved hand lifting to scratch at the back of his neck as the other feeds pizza into his face.

* * *

Jessica considers each question in turn. "Stupidity Beam," she has now just decided this with no investigation at all. With Kate in her charge it's likely she is in fact not going to be the one to try to figure out what happened here. She isn't licensed in this state yet anyway. "So maybe an attack. Some people were definitely hurt. Kevin there was definitely hurt."

And then the younger woman is dropping her head to her shoulder and asking an important question.

"On a scale of 'you were totally cool and scored that number' and 'you should wear a paper bag over your head the next time you see him?'"

The PI lifts her eyebrows as she tries to think on how to answer that one. At last, as she decides on hailing a cab with the idea of maybe just seeing Bishop home, she delivers her verdict.

"I think the next time you see him again your outfit had better be so smoking it outshines whatever supermodel is famous now, or you are definitely going to strike out."

At least it's not a paper bag.

* * *

Supergirl isn't the only one getting frustrated. Firestorm just keeps shaking his head and then pointing up at the same thing she does. They probably look pretty ridiculous.

"Yeah! I get it! The thing up there! You wanna take a look at it! So why! Aren't! You! Flying?!"

Maybe she's been affected after all? Professor Stein considers with a frown. But he still doesn't quite understand how that factors in. He has no experience with people from other worlds, okay?

It soon becomes apparent to Firestorm that the craziness and whining and random shouting around them has ceased, and he looks about, scratching the back of his head in confusion. "Wait, what? Did…it wear off, whatever it was?"

He looks back at S-Girl, joined by S-Boy and frowns a bit. "Aw man, I missed out on the pizza."

* * *

And just lie that, Kara switches back, with all the memory of what just happened. That includes both what she worked out about the device and now the full knowledge that she is a Kryptonian on Earth… as well as a lot of pent up annoyance over the general intellectual level of the population around her. And guess who she gets to take it out on?!

So as Conner lands next to her, she reaches up to accept the final slice, only to be met with… what, sass, from her quasi-cousin? "It's not my fault you lack the education of a Kryptonian /child/, Kon. At least I tried something other than /pizza/. Oh, by the way, that thing did it." Her method of pointing out what 'that' is involves her looking up and giving the meteor a very brief, very precise eye-blast. The villain may be gone, but she's not going to leave his toy for anyone to play with.

With that, she takes a bite from the cheesy treat, while giving Firestorm a little roll of her eyes as he lands near them. Her being back in snarky teen mode should confirm that everything is back to normal.

* * *

"No answer?" Khalid asks the air, wading through the final wall of tweens and pizza madness, dodging elbows, crying, and a random dogpile before ducking down behind something solid enough to cover his action of hefting and opening up his backpack. He frowns. "Figures." A shiny gold helmet peeks out from inside, reflecting the colored lights—

Just like that, however — it's over. "Huh?" Things are flipped back to normal before he can even take the helmet out for a spin. He lifts his gaze, seeing that yes indeed everyone is back to their normal, physical ages.

Khalid frowns again, only this time it's more of a thoughtful expression than the 'impatient for an explanation of some kind' type. "…Okay, so we might not be needed at all," he concludes, closing his backpack seconds later with a pat. "Crisis averted! Everything's back to normal."

…And his thumb presses the < SEND > function to his sort-of girlfriend on that photo he meant to delete off of his phone without his knowing.

* * *

"H-Hey." Superboy protests, with some level of credulity. "It's not -my- fault either." Nailed it. Argument won.

* * *

That look.

"What?! What did I do? I was trying to help and you were speaking nonsense!" Firestorm huffs. He looks to Superboy as if to ask for some help on things, but it looks like he's the subject of Supergirl's disapproval too.

"Ugh, whatevs. I should've been home…" He pauses to check his phone. "Fifteen minutes ago. Hopefully mom doesn't kill me. Be a real bummer way to start off the year."

Turning, he makes ready to take off, although something about it all just rubs him the wrong way. This isn't how New Year's celebrations go. He has a glance around and then grins to himself before taking to the air, zipping about to nab discarded pizza boxes. Up and up he flies once he's gotten a sizable pile in hand, and once well over the plaza, light flares as he transmutes them.

Confetti rains down across the plaza and the confused and recovering people.

"There. Much better." Maybe people can salvage something of their night.

Firestorm grins a little, then zips skyward in a streak of light, homeward bound.

"Haaaappy New Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar!"

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