Jump to content

[Age of Heroes] Help Wanted! (closed)

Kirby Krackle

Recommended Posts

Mango Habanero has been proudly serving the hungry citizens of Canterlot her own secret taco recipe for more than thirty years. While her eatery downtown never attracted a line that stretched around the block, she never failed to fill the house on weekends and none of her lunch rushes were ever boring. She could turn locals into regulars thanks to her winning smile and free refills on tortilla chips. She could pull in the tourists with food challenges; a burrito containing a diabolical blend of spices so agonizingly hot, that only a dozen or so ponies have actually finished it over her career. And one of them was the Sunlight Sentinel herself. So thanks to creativity, charm, and a mastery over south-of-the-border flavor, Mango's Place was a precious piece of local flair in this bustling metropolis.


That is, until not too long ago. A grease fire got out of control, claiming her home away from home. Thankfully, nopony was hurt. But it's astounding how a professional such as her let this happen! It was such a rookie mistake! Mango was heartbroken; her dream and her livelihood, gone in a puff of smoke.


Except no. A realtor approached her not too long after the accident. He offered his condolences as well as five times the (former) value of her property. Why? She didn't ask. She just took the money and ran; her spark reignited and now dreaming of all the possibilities. Food trucks were popular lately. She could try one of those! But what became of the little taco stand that couldn't? Who would put in an offer for such a disaster area? Well, as it turns out, one Pinkamena Diane Pie was house hunting.


Well, not a house-house. More like a club house. Except it's not for a club. I mean, it kinda is! But it's more like a society. Or a league! Basically what I need is a place for superbeings to convene! Where they might discuss matters pertaining to the safety of the cosmos itself, and the protection of all those who dwell within! Also birthday parties!


After convincing Flash Mob that a base built on the moon was most impractical and outside her budget, the realtor brought up his most recent acquisition. At first, she was hesitant. Obviously. To call this place a fixer upper is comparable to calling the Nightmare Night crisis a sisterly spat. But the two of them sat down to negotiate, starting with what to have for lunch. They decided on an extra large pineapple and olive pizza. With that squared away, they moved on to more important matters. It was a prime location; being in the heart of downtown could prevent crime simply by existing. Renovation costs technically would only be half as much, as the demolition was already done, if a little extra crispy. So far, it all sounded like a good deal!


“Now let's talk price”, he said. Uh oh. “An office-style storefront; boring yet practical, would naturally be the cheapest option.”


Yeah, I guess”, Pinkie replied, a little discouraged. “This is a place for superheroes though! Where's the danger room? Where's the teleporters? Where's the jumpship shuttle hangar? Where's the trophy room filled with mementos collected from our adventures across time and space? Y'know, like the Full House Gang's flying cards? Or a dollop of the Smooze kept under glass? Or a decommissioned Astoundroid? Or a piece of Psychobabble's dream machine? Or Sagittarius's trick arrows? What about the trick arrows?!


Her realtor was a little stunned by the outburst, but sure enough, couldn't help but laugh.


“So a little more punchy then?”, he said with a smile. “Okay, I think we can make this work.”




Help Wanted:

Dauntless Heroes

For the protection of life and liberty

from the forces of evil, wherever they may lurk



Must be champions of truth and justice,

paragons of virtue, spit-curls preferred


First meeting this Wednesday, 3pm

1939 Fawcett Street






Flash Mob; the Magnificent Multiplying mare of Mystery, or MMMM for short, checked her pocket watch for the thirty-seventh time in just under six minutes. While she certainly wasn't the type to let impatience get the better of her, the ponies delivering the sixteen foot hoagie gave her a window from 2:15 to 2:45!. The time was now 3:07! And they haven't even given her a courtesy call yet! Now, she definitely understood that sometimes, accidents happen. It can't be helped. But come on! Let's all be professionals here!

If it goes to 3:30 and they're still not here, I am going to leave such a lousy tip!”, she exclaimed, loud enough for all of downtown Canterlot to hear. All the while, the hot-pink heroine paced back and forth outside her recently rented store front, renovations finally completed.


Although, I haven't seen any cape and cowl types show up yet either”, she continued to say to herself. There was a bit of worry in her voice. And a little less volume in her mane than usual. “Maybe they didn't like the color of crayon I used in the posters I put up...






Link to comment
Share on other sites


"On the contrary, Love! I think yer choice o' the pink shade was perfect! Captures your... well, your you. Perfectly!" Came an excited tone behind the pony. Behind Flashmob was a mare who was standing on what appeared to be a multicolored blob in the shape of a cloud. The unicorn on top of it leapt off, the cloud shifting in shape into a ribbon as it all streamed into one of the gourd's at her side in a majestic mini river of color before it was sealed in by a cork top. 


A hoof came up to flip one of the looser, dangling ends of her tessellated scarf over her back before it quickly shot forward in an offered shake to the one in charge of this little gathering, "I'm Avant Garde! Hero fer a few years solo and recent addition ta the academy!" Once that hoof was taken Flashmob would find her whole body being shook by the enthusiastic motions of the Painter Hero, "S'bloody wonderful ta meet ya, Mate! By the way, Nice set o' pipes! I could 'ear yer first shout about a block away... than I think so could everypony else!" 


The Heroine's hat was soon lifted off her head, her fetlock rising to wipe beads of sweat from her brow. A huff leaving her muzzle before she looked at the mess of a mane she had on her head, "Sorry ta say I don't fit the 'ole spit curl preference, Love. This just isn't a mane made fer that, but I got the champion o' truth and justice thing down pat!" She declared, a boisterious thump to her chest soon following. The Ivory coated pony craned her head behind Flashmob's back and looked on down the street: Hoping to see more heroes on the way soon. "Oh! No' sure if ya were able ta 'ear me over the crowds but yer dance number was amazing! Did tha' take a whole lotta rehearsin'?"






Link to comment
Share on other sites

Flash Mob practically erupted from her standing position, leaping thrice her height straight upward from surprise alone. Her heart all but flew out of her chest and the massive gasp she left out sounded like an angry teapot. And this is a mare who is virtually impossible to sneak up on. That extraordinary sense of hers tends to not allow surprises. So when it actually does happen, it's a doozy.


But slowly she regained her composure, with first some deep breaths and then when she observed the pony behind her was a friendly one AND also was riding on a super cool cloud made of paint! It was another superhero! So, in case the grin stretching from ear to ear wasn't a dead give-away, Flash Mob was absolutely giddy. In an instant, she plus two fresh clones were upon poor Avant Guard, locking her into the biggest, crushingest bear hug she's ever had. Seriously. Something inside the painter might have popped.


And it's so nice to meet you too!”, she squeed. “I mean, I met you at the Academy but only for a little bit, but now I'm meeting you officially and you're actually here and you read my fliers and you're here and we'll have awesome team-up adventures and you're here! I'm so happy you're here!


The trio of pink ponies, absolutely exploding with exuberance, perhaps let all the emotion go to their heads. Unless Avant was okay with getting thrown upwards. Pinkie hoped she would be. But only after they caught her and set her down on all fours.


Come in! Come in!”, she said, one of the other Pinkies throwing the glass doors to the club house open.


Now, I know the flier said catered, but the delivery guy who's supposed to bring the party sub isn't here yet but there's still good news! We can start with dessert! I made cupcakes!


And boy, did she make cupcakes. A dozen dozen to be precise. That's one hundred and forty-four for those playing at home. And each batch was it's own unique flavor. There was also punch. Just how many ponies was she planning on feeding today?


The décor was... red. Red walls. Red tablecloth. Red velvet cupcakes. The realtor insisted that red was the color of heroism across multiple cultures. And if the Rainbow Rangers tv-show has taught her anything, it's that he was right. Perfect.


I'm so glad you liked my... well, flash mob!” She giggled, highly amused at her own sense of humor. “It's so weird to say that with lower case letters! But yeah, technically it was a lot of rehearsal time. Only a week on the calendar but times fifty clones at a time, times all twenty-four hours is... I dunno. A lot? I can get a lot done if I put a lot of horsepower into it!


Link to comment
Share on other sites

Zelda really did not like her 'uniform'. While she could not feel the tightening material as it pressed against her artificial body, she had a very good idea what it felt like and it would not be good. She could not believe it. Out of all the super-geniuses in the think-tank they had, they let Pocket Change design her costume! Seriously?! The silly stallion drew it up on construction paper with crayons. Thankfully they had somepony who knew what she was doing actually create her costume, but it still left very little to the imagination. Along with the clingy body-covering, she wore what she assumed was a recolored pair of pirate boots and an pair of long be-cuffed gloves. These were branded an necessity as her claws were very sharp and could do some serious damage to those they came upon. They wanted her to fight evil, not slaughter it. Her oversized hammer would do all the smacking instead. Unique magic kept the hefty weapon from crushing her opponent's skulls like melons. Instead, it could stun and even hurt like heck.
While the android had been sulking in one of the darker parts of the laboratory, one of the young interns hoofed over a scrap of newspaper. This was some advertisement for what appeared to be a super-hero group. And thanks to a very unpleasant accident that left her real body in shambles and required the use of an artificial golem of sorts to move about in, she was now considered a 'super-hero' of sorts. But she still needed to preform said acts of heroism. And more importantly, she needed to better attune herself to her golem's controls. She had the basics down, but there was still many things she needed to learn about Z.E.L.D.A. And having an group of heroes to watch her back would be idea.
Wednesday rolled around, and it was time. But the griffon needed  a few more rounds of convincing before she would put on the costume. And after a few more abortive tries, the former blacksmith was out and about and in the sky. After a few moments, she was hovering over the 1939  Faucet Street. "The heck?", she glanced down at the building. It was an plumbing store. Then it dawned on her. "Holey Moley.", she grumbled as she noticed the 'W' instead of an 'U' and an extra 'T'. This was not the place!
It took her a little longer than she probably needed to take, but she found the right address. This was not because she was slow, mostly because she was just too fast and had a bad habit of overshooting her destination. Again, this is what experience and the university would fix. After making her way onto the ground, and thankfully not -into- the ground as she had done in the past, the bewildered griffon knocked on the door. "Hello?" Was there anypony home?
Link to comment
Share on other sites

The Griffon-via-proxy did not have to wait long at all for the welcoming committee to come out and greet her. In fact, a synthetic claw was put upon Pinkie Pie's property for barely a second before a copy of Flash Mob poofed into existance before her. And with just as much enthusiasm as there was for Avant Guard, so too did Z.E.L.D.A receive a super special bear hug. Or rather, she was going to. The cruise missle made of happiness that was Flash Mob rocketed at the catbird, but there were problems with density; she was more closely resembling a kickball, bouncing off the Griffon with a loud smack. Perhaps this would teach her about respecting other person's personal space!


Ow! Wow! You ARE strong! And you found my flier! Welcome welcome welcome!


Nope. Despite needing to pick herself up off the concrete, she was back up and shaking a claw in no time.


My name is Flash Mob but I bet you knew that already! But did you know that I know you? You're from the academy! Z.E.L.D.A., right? Or do you prefer Zelda? Come to think of it, how do you pronounce all those periods? I would hate to offend heroes with acronyms for names. Eh, you can tell me during lunch? Once lunch actually gets here! You didn't see anypony coming this way with a twelve foot sandwich, did you?


Two more Pinkies were already holding the doors, beconing her inside.


There's dessert, though! And music! So make yourself at home! Do you prefer disco or swing or oompa?

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Flyers everywhere.  She'd seen several dozen on the way to the gym - she left those be.  She wasn't the janitor.  There were seven on the doors to the gym alone - she brushed a wisp of purple mane out of her face and stared in confusion.  Why so many?  She cleared those away.  Gym doors were for gym business.  Then the dozen or so on the walls of the gym - nope.  Not suitable.  Those walls were for the school banners and the logos of the winning teams.  School spirit, not advertisements for out-of-school parties.  Then the two on her office door.  Why would you even put those there?  Gone.  She unlocked the door and stepped into her office, landing carefully on her leg - being careful with the cast freshly removed.  She'd spent too long favoring that leg, but a good solid exercise regimen should take care of that.  She sat down at her desk, sighed, took away the flyer atop her blotter and dumped it in the basket.  Time for paperwork.  The lower shelf of her file cabinet glowed purple and opened on its own.  She blinked.  Another flyer?  Tossed.  Wait...


On a hunch, Flash Mob's file glowed purple and pulled itself from the drawer, opening itself in mid-air.  Aside from the neat and tidy sheaf paper-clipped to the inside of the manila folder, dozens of pink-crayoned flyers came falling out of the file folder, mounding on her desk.


"Oh, for the sake of little apples... does she have the ability to duplicate flyers, too?!  I have paperwork to do!"  Time to take care of this at the source.  She stood up, grabbed one of the flyers, and checked the address.


Her mane shifted from purple to yellow as she prepared to fly.  Still, all work and no play, right?  Once she made sure this wouldn't repeat itself, she could stay a little while for free food...


The ponies of the city were used to, by this point, the harmless yellow lighting arcing along their carriages as The Rainboom Centurian raced down the street, stealing little bits of their speed to add to that of the pegasus soaring through the sky, leaving a blue streak wreathed with yellow arcs of electricity behind her.


It wasn't long before she reached her destination, the yellow lightning ceasing as she no longer needed all that speed.  She floated down slowly to the open door, her wings flapping lazily as she bobbed down through the entrance and back up again.  "Flash Mob!  What's with all the flyers?!"

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Every superhero team needs a flier, silly!


Flash Mob was, once again, excercizing her knack for popping out of where it's least expected. This time, a pretty pink face poked out from a panel in the clubhouse's drop ceiling. She was wearing safety goggles over her black domino mask and a pair of wire strippers was hanging securely from the one long curl at the end of her mane. Evidentally, there was still some electrical work not yet done.


You know, that one super somepony who can whiz and whip and whirl around the battlefield, scan the skies for signs of danger, or perform a daring dive to rescue a falling damsel in distress!” Her front hooves meanwhile pantomimed some visual aids, chopping the air in every direction, making a childish but effective mimicry of supersonic flight. She even added some sound effects.


Zoom! Phew! Woosh! -whoa!


But all that motion wasn't great for keeping balance. She fell from her perch, landing in front of the Centurian, flat on her back. Of course, that didn't stop her from talking.


Think about it! Safeguard has Rocket Queen and Dr. Seraphim. The Seven Sensations have Firecracker. Hech, Sunlight Sentinel has honerary membership in, I dunno, a dozen teams! I wonder if she's still on friendly terms with the Victory Vanguard? I heard there was a falling out with Sagittarius after that big mess with Psychobabble, but it's not like I listen to rumors or anythi- Oh you meant flyer with a Y!


Despite greatly enjoying her own accidental pun, she managed to hold back the hysterics. If anything, she would save this joke for later.


Well, funny you should ask!”, she said, springing to her feet and manifesting some extra copies to help her back up to her work. They could continue the conversation just fine without her.


Because I was hoping that the flyer with a Y would get the attention of a flier with an I! I don't suppose you would know any? Any super fast and totally awesome aerial acrobats? And maaaaaaaaaybe they some some other powers too, like... just throwing it out there, mood lasers? And maaaaaaaaaybe somepony with experience in heroing? Maybe they helped save the world from a thousand years of darkness or something! You wouldn't know anypony like that, would you, oh mighty Rainboom Centurian?


Wow, she can lay it on thick.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

“Oh, goodness!”, the griffon nearly leaped out of her costume after the sudden appearance of Flash Mob. “I’m so sorry.”, she held out her claw to help the bouncy little earth pony up. The black bird knew first impressions were everything and was pretty sure that clobbering one of her teammates was probably not the impression she wanted. “Are you alright?” Thankfully, earth ponies were naturally touch, even without super powers. A quick scan of the mare showed that she received no injuries.  “Yes..Yes”, she shook the mare’s hoof. One of the griffon’s biggest issues is that she could not feel anything. A few simple lights would pop up if her body received any injuries during battle. The darker the color, the worst the damage. With this, she was never sure if she was smiling or not. Her face was generally set at at default ‘friendly’ mode. This could be changed when in battle. However, she could not just smile at will. This hopefully would be the next upgrade to he controls. She overheard one of the eggheads as she spoke about adding an ‘beak-stick’ to her set-up. One bite for smile. Two bites for a frown. Or even something that could detect the mood in her voice and change her facial expressions to match it.
“Yes,  I am from the academy.”, her eyes fell upon the other Flash Mobs, which was a gentle reminder of what powers the bouncy mare possessed. “My name is technically Griselda, but everyone calls me Zelda.” Her parents thought 'Griselda' was the perfect name for their newly hatched chick. In the old griffon tongue, it simply meant 'happy' and they were very sure that she was by far the happiest little bird to be hatched that day. "I do not require food or drink." This was her personal Tartarus. Until the nerds could fix her, the only munchies she would be getting were whatever they fed her through her feeding tubes. "As for music, swing isn't bad, but I prefer a little jazz. Like Dizzy Gallopie and Red-Tail Rodney."
She made sure to thank both of the Pinkies as she entered the base. Hopefully joining this little super-club was going to be a good idea.
Link to comment
Share on other sites





Avant was tossed up high in the air, thrown up a decent distance by the pink trio. Either Avant Garde was a whole lot lighter than she though she was... or the stories of Flashmob's incredible strength were true: Mostly likely it was the latter. Despite the sudden nature of the flight provided by Sentinel academy's head cheerfleader, The painter let out and excited, almost foalish, "Wheeeeeeee!" That lasted the entire duration of her rise and to the end of her fall. Once set on the ground again she followed along indoors, her nostrils twitching and a heavenly scent. Cupcakes! For a moment it seemed like she'd teleported over to the table and eagerly took up one!


While she munched away her eyes scanned the room. Red? Red on it's own was a nice color and all.. but for a whole room it was almost eerie. 'maybe I can convince 'er ta let me re do the walls in somethin' less... anxiety producing.' Thought the painter to herself. Looking back to Flashmob (or one of her) she grinned brightly, "Are you kiddin'?  How could I -not- like such artistry! The movements the energy, all that passion and synchronization! I'd 'ave ta be a foal not to love every moment!" After a swift gulp , the last bit of her cupcake went down her throat. She looked down at her hoof and realized something... she didn't take that paper off... oh dear. 


"So... um got any idea when any o' the other new arrivals will c--" And then came the knocks.


Sweet Sentinel! Already there were two heavy hitters here! The Rainboom Centurion and one ... robogolem? griffin that she'd caught a glimpse of during the early days of the academy's opening this semester. Just the presence of an already accomplished hero in the room was enough to make the paint hero start feeling self conscious, at least inside. Externally AVant put on her usual cocky smile and walked on over to Z.E.L.D.A. and the centurion. "Oi! Good ta meet ya both!" She spoke up in her usual Trottingham accent, a sort of cockney tone to it that straddled the line between noble and dockworker (although maybe that wasn't so much of a line as a chasm.) "I'm Avant Garde, Trottingham based hero and occasional smart mouth!" 

A bow came from the mare along with the removal of her hat to be polite. As soon as she got back up she placed it on and grinned at the two, "I'm still plannin' on showin' you up in dodgeball, love!" A wink was shot in the direction of the centurion, whether she remembered the cocky little unicorn's declaration during the opening ceremonies or not wasn't important but Avant hoped to make good on that promise at some point. Her gaze fell back to the cyborg griffin, her jaw dropping at the equipment she was sporting. "Okay...." She began, bobbing her head in various directions as if trying to capture Zelda's features from every possible angle, "That is one... BIG hammer!"

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The collection of Pinkie Pies within earshot of the mecha-griffin were kicking themselves, both figuratively and literally. How could she ignore the needs of the synthetic? What kind of party host was she? A terrible one, that's what! The clone being helped to her feet was feeling particularly guilty for being so insensitive. Briefly, she considered offering her chin up as target practice for that giant hammer, but no; being thumped out of existance wouldn't accomplish anything.


In a flash, there was yet another one; her creator was apologizing profusely to her feathery guest while the newbie pulled a walkie talkie out of her coat to make a call.


This is WPNK”, said a clone on the other end. She was in the control room downstairs, hooves up on the desk and sunglasses over her eyes. “Playing the greatest hits of yesterday, today and tomorrow!


Hi! First time caller, long time listener!” Isn't it nice to know how quickly they can pick up on eachother's jokes? “I was wondering if you had any jazz in the collection? Maybe something like Dizzy Gallopie or-


Say no more, caller! Have trumpet, will PARTY!


A disc was changed, and then, so was the mood, with sweet bebop playing over the clubhouse PA system as per request. Homefully this would make Zelda feel right at home. As she was being lead in, the Flash Mob finally stopped her profuse apologies once she heard the music change, suddenly all grins. It was a smile that mostly said 'Please don't leave'.




Awwww shucks! It wasn't THAT good”, said another Pinkie, blushing ever so lightly, obviously flattered that there was a fan of her dance routine. One little hoofsie was scratching little circles in the ground. She was also not above bribes, sliding a fresh(and also unwrapped) cupcake and glass of punch to Avant Gaurd. Best we forget that paper is not good eats.


Not to mention, one of the Pies standing aside the Rainboom happened to hold up a picket sign for the painter's eyes only. Also written in pink, it had a nice big arrow pointing down towards the pegasus and read 'Challenge her more! She likes it!'. And that was not a lie, per se. Dashie did like challenges! She just liked winning more.

Link to comment
Share on other sites


This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.

  • Create New...