Day of Disco Prince
Hi there! I really enjoyed this one. I have so many original superhero characters that I didn’t feel I needed to use the generators, so I decided to use some of my characters I wanted to explore for some work soon.
My tumblr is here, so please stop by anytime! I do a lot of art and comics.
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Day of Disco Prince
This is absolutely no way to begin a day, Disco Prince thought as he held the unconscious man to his chest with one arm, the other serving as a channel for his powers. The place was coming down around them. A massive column of rock barely stood at bay, held back by the persistent beam of force. Was this the end?
No! He couldn’t let it happen. Not like this.
His eyes lit up behind the shimmering iridescent mask, and his white fingerless gloves nearly disappeared with the flaring arcs of celestial energy pouring from his hand. This would not be his last day! He could not let this man down.
The debris turned to glowing clouds, then vanished as if it had never been. Pulling himself to his feet, Disco Prince drew the man up and half-dragged him to the exit.
The crowds, safely kept at a distance by the city’s authorities, cheered. The last person had been evacuated from the building, and in the nick of time; it started to collapse in earnest, causing tremors to shake the ground. But Disco Prince kept going, steadfast as anything. His rose-coloured thigh boots gripped the pavement as he walked to the ambulance, handing over the man, who had managed a weak smile through his injury, stirring from the sound and vibration.
It was enough. Some people might have thought it wouldn’t be anything to hear the cheer of the crowd, or to see the light in someone’s eyes whose life one had just saved. But it was everything.
Disco Prince’s pink hair shimmered in the glow of his own power, and he vanished in a thrilling flash.
Breakfast barely flashed by, a wonderful salt bagel with egg from the corner shop, before something else had come up. Enough! He rushed out, looking into the street.
A nearby building had suddenly acquired a new feature: a metallic capsule designed to resemble a cephalopod, probing the upper floors with its tentacles and firing beams from the tips of them. Only one person could be so bizarrely imaginative and sadistic.
“Nicodeimos J. Branch!” Disco Prince called out, rising into the sky, leaving an iridescent trail behind him.
His open jacket fluttered, and though he wore nothing under it, he remained comfortable. His power kept him at an ideal temperature. It did so many things for him; it was handy, being the champion of a deity.
His aura rippled as one of the beams smashed against him, but he gritted his teeth and pressed against it. Either it would give, or he would! But he had the energy of his breakfast, at least, and the beam was found lacking. A burst of light and a beam of his own took care of one of the tentacles.
“Disco Prince!” The familiar sound of the madman piloting it echoed around them, with a tinny sort of reverberation from the speakers. Weren’t they long past that level of technology by now?
Oh well. “Branch, you can’t keep doing this! People are being hurt because of you and your…mad ego!”
One of the mechanical monster’s tentacles whipped around Disco Prince, constricting him, intent to crush him. With a burst of power, he broke free, disintegrating a good half of it. The metal stump waved wildly, sending a shower of sparks into the air.
Circling around, evading a handful more of the attempted attacks, the iridescent hero gestured to the face. There. Surely that was where the pilot would sit. Pinkish energies glowed white and flared out, bursting the metal.
“Disco Down!” The Prince called, and the cover dissipated.
His eyes scanned the cockpit — but there was nothing other than various controls and a monitor hooked up to the seat. The sneering face of Branch lit a fire in Disco Prince’s chest.
“Looks like you lose again, Disco Prince. Either you get away, or you go up with this building. And either way, there’ll be nothing — as usual — to tie it to me. Farewell, failure!”
“No!”
Moving quickly, Disco Prince summoned all of his energy, all the power he could muster. Even being a channel for the powers of a god, he still had his very physical and comparatively fragile form to consider; he could potentially command a deity’s power, but certainly not yet. It might be the last thing he ever did, anyway. That sheer amount of energy…it could surely tear his body apart at an existential level.
The people were watching, and not only watching, but depending on him. He could see the faces from the windows of the skyscraper, the people looking in, hoping against hope itself and issuing their silent prayers that, against all odds, with the timing of a miracle, Disco Prince would come through. In their eyes, they wrestled with despair. He could see as some bowed their heads, others blinked back tears, still others resigned themselves to their fates, stone-faced but in their minds putting their affairs in order.
“Disco…Heaven!”
As he intoned the words of it, he could feel ecstasy coarse through his body. The explosion began, as if in slow motion, but it only began…the fabric of it was blown away by the rose-coloured energy crashing against it like a tide. The pink gave way to a rainbow spectrum, dazzling the vision of all those who managed to keep themselves looking. It had become a rainbow sky. A sparkling mirrorball, shining all around the city.
He came to on the ground, barely recalling his struggle to keep himself conscious as he teleported down at the last minute. He knew he was protected, knew he was watched after. He knew he was chosen, and every second of his life he was grateful.
The people gathered around him he recognised from the windows he had looked through. They all smiled, some embraced each other, others cried, as he sat up. The paramedic put a hand softly on his shoulder and nodded his head. He didn’t have to say anything. The message was clear.
It was all worth it.
For once, lunch was a fairly calm affair, late as it was. Disco Prince was able to power down and eat incognito. But as they tend to do, things happened in the fashion of which he had become accustomed, and his phone began to ring.
The ringtone gradually built up to a disco beat with a voice effusively proclaiming “I feel love!” He cleared his throat, reached down and pressed the button to answer it, bringing it to his face. At least he had almost managed to eat a complete meal for once.
“Yes, hello?”
“Disco Prince?”
Before another word was said, he knew who was on the other end. “Peregre Profundis! How are you?” Then it occurred to him. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it…you wouldn’t have phoned if…”
“Right. How fast can you get over here?”
As it happened, it took Disco Prince less than twenty minutes to take care of his meal and to transform and teleport. His form of teleportation was not always so much instantaneous as it was very quick; it required concentration and focus, and it tended to exhaust for a brief time. Still, he had just filled up his figurative tank, so he figured he had some energy to spare.
Peregre, as always, was dressed immaculately. Since he was at home, in his antique townhouse, he worn a smoking jacket and more casual slacks and boots, even a cravat, but he looked like he had just stepped out of a Jane Austen novel. Zaryod, his demon servant, wore significantly less but somehow managed to fit in with the rest of the magical and occult decorations. In a way, the two represented themselves with the house, or perhaps vice-versa: antique finery met magical mystery.
Zaryod looked so handsome, with his wild platinum hair, which contrasted his deep red skin but almost matched his luminous white eyes. He wore metal bracelets, a choker, small trunks, and boots. It was the other end of the spectrum from Peregre, whose hair was much shorter, but looked like a lighter shade of the demon’s skin.
Disco Prince stood out like a sore thumb, with his pink and white iridescence motif. But he moved with purpose and confidence, and that counted for something. He had been called here, after all. He was needed for something.
“What’s going on?”
“Well, it’s a bit of a sticky mess, frankly.” Peregre led his guest to a room filled with knick-knacks, in the centre of which stood a pedestal, upon which sat a crystalline sphere. “As you can see…there’s a mass of diabolical corruption that seems to have its awful eyes on us. This world. Specifically, this city. I think it’ll start as a stepping stone, and then…”
Disco Prince raised his brows. “Diabolical…? But…why would you need me? Isn’t that more your thing, or maybe Punchy Rex, or someone like that?”
“Normally, yes.” The youthful-looking magus turned, drawing black velvet over the ball. “However, in this case it would make things much easier and much less likely to go wrong if I have a divine celestial conduit with me…”
“…to oppose the diabolical energies?” The Prince finished, and his friends both nodded at once. “All right.” He grinned. “Where do we start?”
That was the question of the day, quite possibly. After an ordeal that seemed like it took much longer than it actually did — explained by Peregre as “otherdimensional time dilation” — Disco Prince bid them good night. The evil figure had been defeated and turned away from the idea of conquest. They all came out of it hale enough.
But even if it hadn’t taken as long as it seemed, it was still time for the sun to go down. Autumn was giving way to winter, and that meant shorter days, longer nights. Normally he would have liked to go out, perhaps go dancing, meet someone…
Tonight, however, he looked to the sky. The Moon beckoned to him. He smiled and vanished from the sidewalk outside the townhouse.
He reappeared on a dance floor, though it was in no city on the Earth. The dome stretched over his head, and he smiled. The music was soft, tonight. He wanted to relax. He walked over to the chairs and lowered himself into one, powering down, willing away the costume. He stretched, wiggled his toes, and curled up in his seat.
It felt good to rest, after a long day. He hoped that the morning would bring an even better one than today.
