Work Text:
Two figures patrolled New York City. This wasn’t an unusual occurance. You had the lone webslinger. The six Avengers. The Fantastic Four. Myriad X-men… what were a few more masked and costumed figures vaulting between buildings and walking along the lines like high wires?
These two were among the twelve who suddenly appeared somewhere around September the previous year. The school year had just ended, and some had disappeared - leading to speculation that they were college students - but these two were among the few who stayed.
They were a formidable team, definitely deadly, though deadly force was almost never used. The word ‘almost’ was necessary, because (by account of the rescuee) they’d swiftly killed (“The man, he… The woman cut off his dick, and her partner, he snapped his neck a second later.”) a rapist caught in the crime.
The Police turned a blind eye to that one. If they were getting Rapists off the street for good, well… Many of them had sons and daughters who’d been assaulted. If Porcelain and Snix were merciless when they came upon them….
At least they wouldn’t be back on the street in a few years.
She wore dance pants under a short flared skirt, blood red in colour, the same as her fitted sleeveless top and somewhat simple mask. Her hair was dark and long, and she wore boots that came to her tigh, sharp stiletto heels clicking the ground only when she wanted people to know she was coming. No one was entirely sure WHAT made her a super, other than she always had something sharp to fight with, and her acrobatic skills were impeccable.
He was not terribly tall, just under six foot with short chestnut hair, and for all the world looked like he’d stepped out of a book. He wore silver and black; skin tight silver pants tucked into knee high boots with soles so thin he may as well have been barefoot, and he was always silent. He wore a fitted black top, high at the throat with a small bit of silver lace, and sleeveless, showing off moon pale arms disappearing into black leather gloves that ended halfway up his forearm. A pair of sai were tucked into his belt, and on his face was a silver mask, simple, and shining… and scratched as though it’d been put through more than it ought to have.
They were out, tonight, perched atop a tall building near one of the fancier restaurants, taking a small break as they kept an ear out for sirens. Artie, a teammate of theirs (who was wheelchair bound after a particularly vicious fight shortly after their arrival), stayed back in an apartment with a police scanner - repeating anything that sounded interesting over ear pieces tucked almost invisibly into their ears.
Or, as the case might be, simply chatting with them on this suspiciously quiet night.
“Hey, isn’t that your boyfriend?” Snix asked, glancing down at the crowds milling in front of the restaurant.
“Could be. Probably,” Porcelain replied with a half shrug of his shoulder. “He is wealthy.”
“He’s like, worth more than our college educations combined, and then some. I won’t blame you if you want to shadow him.”
“He’ll probably be fine,” he replied, leaning against the wall and watching anyhow.
Twenty minutes later, he frowned. “Snix…”
“I see it. Let’s go.”
The two young heroes flipped off the edge of the building, Porcelain calmly telling Artie their location and that they were on a job, but to let them know if something major needed their help. He focused on catching various pieces of facade and flag poles on his way down, swinging around them to slow his momentum before executing a perfect flip to land to one side of the Problem, Snix landing half a moment later on the other. Two hands grasped two collars and pulled two very surprised muggers away from a feisty, small, teenaged boy.
The man Porcelain had grabbed stabbed at him with his knife, the tip breaking as it impacted with his skin. Porcelain took his sai and pressed it to the attacker’s chest a second after slapping the weapon out of the other’s hand, backing him up against the wall.
Snix was somewhat less subtle. She pulled something sharp as razors from her hair, slashing at her malcontent, knocking the knife out of his hand before her toe connected with his chin, knocking him back into the wall. Porcelain’s foot came up and pressed him into the wall as a sai appeared in his other hand. He pressed the tip against the second mugger's throat.
The teenaged boy slumped against the alley wall behind him as Snix went over and rubbed his shoulder. “You okay, kid?”
“Yeah… I… yeah. Thanks,” Blaine replied, rubbing at his cheek. He’d been set upon as soon as he’d sneaked out the back door, it was almost as though they were waiting for him.
Porcelain had knocked both of them out and was tying their hands together. When he was done, he turned, light eyes darting over the small young man in effort to assess any damage. He let out a small breath of relief when Snix shook her head. Good. Damage minimal. He lowered his voice register, lest he be recognised. “Mr. Anderson-Stark, are you alright?” he asked.
“Yeah, I… Yes. Thank you,” he said with a hesitant nod.
The two masked heroes nodded. “Good. Snix,” he looked at her, “Can you escort him back to his party while I drop these two off near the precinct and have Emcee call them in?”
”Already on it,” came Artie’s voice from his earpiece.
“Sure,” she replied. “C’mon short-stack,” she said, putting a hand on Blaine’s arm and leading him back to the door he’d come out of. “I’ll see you at the perch once I’ve got him settled, Porcelain.”
The masked man nodded, grabbing the dazed attackers and dragging them out of the alleyway.
*
Blaine felt like an IDIOT. He was sure he could sneak out of the corporate party being held at the restaurant, find a cab home, and call Kurt to see if he might be able to come over while everyone was gone. Instead, he got mugged almost as soon as he’d left, and had to be rescued by two of the lesser known heroes in the city.
His embarrassment was complete when Snix literally walked him back to the table containing his father… and most of the rest of the Avengers. “You lost something,” she told them, all but pressing him back into his chair.
“What’s going on?” Tony demanded.
“You’re lucky me and Porcelain came by, or the little guy would be poor and shish kabobbed. Or kidnapped. Or something probably just as nasty but impolite to say in company.” She turned to Blaine, who was looking at her from his seat in mortification. “You. Stay put with the Supers, got it?”
“I-”
“Got it, Frodo?”
Blaine swallowed. “Got it.”
She left with a sway of her hips, her dark hair catching the light briefly before she disappeared outside.
“Okay, what just happened, here?”
“Uhm…”
“Blaine.”
“So, that’s Snix. And her… partner?... and she stopped a mugging.”
“And WHY were you in a position to be mugged!” Tony threw up a hand. “If you didn’t want to come, you should have stayed home, but you said 'sure, no problem', and then you sneak out and you have to be saved by some two bit, home grown, barely recognised masked people?!”
“They were very professional, if that helps?” Blaine quipped.
“It does not help!”
“Wait. Snix and Porcelain?” Steve asked.
Blaine nodded.
“Tony, those are the ones known to kill on occasion. They’re vigilante supers.”
“I think I read about them,” Bruce put in, thoughtful. “They kill rapists caught in the … well,” he glanced around and tucked into his food.
“Good for them,” Natasha lifted her chin. “More people should do that.”
Clint only smiled slightly and took a sip of his water.
“Wow. Yeah, but… They were… They moved so fast, and just kind of, flipped into the alley from… I don’t know where,” Blaine waved a hand. “One guy broke his KNIFE on Porcelain! It was insane!”
“Eat up, Junior. You’re grounded for trying to wander off and getting yourself in a situation,” Tony said, and that was the end of that.