The Vigilantes

Dancing Stars, and Purple Dust

TW: There's a curse word

Virgil was sore, incredibly so. It seemed Remy and Emile were upset that he was late for training that day, so they both had asked him to come back their house after work so they could practice more.

Remy had shocked him with electricity so much that now he twitched uncomfortably. And Emile had sped around him, attacking spontaneously. At one point he had kicked Virgil in the chest so hard that he went flying backwards.

Of course, they were doing this so he could get better, so that he could control his illusions. He scoffed as he walked through the night. They wanted him to get better at controlling people. At making people believe what he wanted them to. At being a manipulator.

Sure, they could always justify it.

We need your help to defeat The Duke and Deceit.

We can't do this without you.

Your power can be used for good too.

But he knew they didn't believe it. He knew they thought that his power was dangerous, and he did too. There was nothing amazing about manipulating how someone sees, feels, or thinks about something. It was disgusting.

He shrugged his shoulders, attempting to make the bag more comfortable as he carried it. He was still about three or four blocks away, but he just wanted to cry. To collapse on the sidewalk and die. He deserved it. How could he justify manipulating people? How?

He just couldn't.

It was easier to think about the dinner Patton had made hours before. He was starving actually. He imagined what Patton could have made. Veggie burgers with broccoli, Virgil had learned, was the heart-felt boy's favorite. Which was strange, but Patton was a strange guy.

He turned his head towards the sky, staring at the millions of twinkling stars. He was nearing his apartment, but thinking about the stars made him forget, momentarily, about his hunger and powers. He imagined the stars dancing among the cosmos, purple dust flying around them. Then he tripped on his stairs.

So much for stars, he murmured under his breath. Slowly he stood back up, scooping back down to pick up his fallen gym bag. Cursing, he climbed the stairs and entered the apartment building, stopping in front of his door. Reaching into his pocket, he searched for his key.

"We can't just attack Roman!"

That's what made his hand freeze with his key inches away from the lock. Attack what? What do they mean? Slowly he pressed his ear against the door.

"We do this every time without a plan! We need to have some sort of strategy before we barge in again and destroy the place before apprehending the villain."

Destroy? Apprehend?

"The fire was a one time accident, Logan."

Fire?!

"Guys, let's calm down, okay?"

"Yes, we need to stay calm and discuss this properly."

"Fine, nerd."

"Okay, I suggest that Patton you block the main exit with your ice, but not the back exit. Roman, I will force the robbers to the back, then you attack, not before. Then I will give the civilians an incentive to sneak to the back exit. All right, do you both agree?"

Virgil heard an affirming yes, before he pulled away from the door. Ice? Fire? Force? No, this wasn't possible, it couldn't be. Of all the roommates in the world, on the outskirts of New York, it wasn't possible that he just ran into-

The door opened, showing all three of his secretive roommates.

"You're The Light Sides."

_____________________

It was now past one morning, and he still couldn't believe it. Remy and Emile had called him multiple times, texting him at one point. He knew they wanted him to watch the crime scene at another bank, to make sure The Light Sides didn't mess this up. But he couldn't. He couldn't watch his roommates- his friends- try to act on something they really didn't know about.

But, by now they should have solved it, captured the villain, and returned home.

Apprehend.

Why? Why that word? It was the way Logan had said it. Virgil was sure that Logan had a trick for emphasizing words. He knew that apprehend meant capture too. But. . . It was more suspicion, curiosity, and anxiety at this point.

He had wanted to be mad at them, he really did, he wanted to hate them for the same reason he hates himself. Powers. But he couldn't. Their powers weren't as bad as his, at least not Roman's and Patton's. Logan's would take extra explaining.

He remembered researching their powers. Fire, ice, telepathy and mind control. Another manipulator. If he was being honest, parts of him were at war. One wanted to hate Logan for his powers, for his manipulation, but another. . .  Another was excited. Excited that there was someone else who understood how damaging it is to control someone, to be a manipulator.

His phone chimed from where it sat on his nightstand.

DogLover💖: hey kiddo, did u eat ur food

A silly little text, from a silly person. Yet somehow he was hesitating. Patton was just trying to help him, but it was weird now. Strange. He didn't answer.

Romano🤵👑: Hello, dear Emo! I assume you may be in awe at our supposed secret, but fear not! We wish you no harm! Please, Virge, eat your prepared meal.

Now he just wanted to laugh at Roman. He texts so weird, it's stupid. SO he typed back:

Virge🎶🏳️‍🌈: hELlo, DeAR eMo, chill it on the fucking exclamation points

He went onto tumblr before, once again, receiving another text.

Logan👔: Virgil, the others are saying that you are not answering their texts- or you decided to mock them, so they have sent me to text you. And I know you won't eat, so, for lack of better words, are you all right?

Virgil actually liked the name Logan had put in for him. His explanation was that Virgil was 'out of this world.'

Virgil🌌: im fine, logan

Logan👔: Are you, Virgil? You didn't even answer Patton, and mocked Roman, though yes, you are correct, he does need to 'chill' with exclamation points. But, from what I gathered with emotions, one typically says fine when they are in fact not fine. So, are you actually 'fine?'

Virgil🌌: yeah, I just need a breather

Logan👔: Well, okay, Virgil, but we will explain when we get home.

Virgil🌌: k

Logan👔: Goodbye. And Patton has told me to text you that he 'loves you, kiddo.'

Virgil looked at the last text, and dropped his phone on the floor. He didn't want to text back. The conversation seemed to be draining him of energy. So, he laid back and looked at his black painted ceiling. He concentrated a little bit before imagining all the stars in space on his ceiling, and slowly, it came true. He could see them dancing among the cosmos, purple dust flying around them. He didn't notice when he fell asleep.

He woke up to a soft rapping on his door. "Kiddo?" He looked at his phone; 2:30 it read. He sighed, standing up and opening his door.

"Okay, let's talk."

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Was that good? Did I do good?! Um, but seriously, did you like it? I know this was longer and I think a lot of chapters will be longer. I just... have so many ideas for this book and I also don't have a final plot line. I know how I want it to go, but I also like a couple of other ideas, ya know? Oh well. Bye!