Vixen Vigilante

Part IV: Acid

"Jenny, please! It's only from one to nine. You're not dying or anything!" Kayla screeched over the phone.

Jenny imagined Kayla's eyebrows furrowed in displeasure and her lips pouted in childlike petulance someone of her age should not be able to mimic.

"I'm sorry, I just can't make it. I'm too sick."

For emphasis, Jenny coughed into her fist, making sure it was loud enough for Kayla to cringe at.

She received a sigh in answer.

"Fine. Next time for sure?"

"For sure," Jenny agreed easily.

Kayla ended the call.

Over the span of a week, Jenny had managed to successfully evade Kayla's attempts to get her to socialize; she would have felt bad if her excuse this time wasn't legitimate.

Jenny let the phone fall from her gloved hand. She swiftly grasped it with her mind and placed it on her bed before her eyes swept over her outward appearance.

Her signature purple mask adorned her eyes, only revealing a small portion of her lower face; smooth, pale skin and pink lips curved downward in an anxious frown. Her lavender suit hugged the curvatures of her body tenderly; highlighting her elegance and strength while simultaneously allowing easy movement.

Her periwinkle hair was cut shorter than normal, a low hanging curtain obscuring her eyes until she swept her hair behind her ears.

The deep pools of twilight that regarded her reflection seemed unreal. She blinked slowly, watching as her irises darkened at her command.

Once satisfied with her appearance, Vixen placed her hands on her hips and bit her lip nervously.

There's no backing out now. If I can handle Supervillains, I can handle adoring fans and the media. Besides, crime has been oddly quiet lately. This could be a chance to talk to other Supers about this unnerving radio silence, she thought.

With a flourish Kayla would have been proud of, she leapt from the windowsill of her apartment and spiraled through the air.

There was nothing quite like the rush of flying.

There was nothing like the feeling of cascading through the air, the onslaught of wind pursuing her body at every angle.

Although she enjoyed the flight, nerves ate away at her.

This is my first ever attendance at a Superhero convention. I'm not entirely sure how to act.

Her worries dissipated the longer she flew.

Eventually, her boot clad feet touched solid ground. She stood outside of the convention, ignoring the worry that continued to build inside of her.

The convention was located in a large, company owned warehouse on the outskirts of town. The enormous structure loomed above her like a cage, freezing her feet for a moment before she discarded those thoughts.

With trepidation, she walked through the open double doors and saw that the convention was in full swing.

The room was hardly a room; it was so large it probably spanned an entire football field. The ceiling was immensely high, and Vixen imagined she could fly freely without having to worry about colliding with it.

Scattered around the large area were several small booths, manned by people in a variety of costumes, ranging from Superhero to Supervillain cosplays.