The day had come at last: the 9th of November was already on them and the morning sun was shining on San Diego. Last week, Karrie's team had put in ten hour work-days to repair the stadium wiring and the pro-bono workers that Gabriel Law had so considerately lent worked around the clock to make sure everything was ready and set. Mech was going to arrive for security, together with the usual team that protected Alessa.

Paolo was still on a plane; a delay in Houston keeping him away. Alessa was already in the QualComm stadium since dawn break. The practice time had been extra-long last night; she felt nerveous.

The stadium was booked solid, the vendors were ready and time kept it's march whether Alessa wanted or not, but would it be enough? Would Alessa be able to cheer up people, even if for a moment? Some of this people had their whole lives destroyed, had their homes eaten by a sinkhole and their memories trashed by fire and rubble.

"Am I good enough to pull them through this?" Alessa looked at the mirror, her face staring back at herself looking for an answer where only the same question laid.

----------

The Qualcomm Stadium, a big open stadium capabale of seating 75,000 people, for most of the time this was a quiet football stadium in San Diego, but tonight the markings in the grass had been erased, a big big stage had been set in the 50th yard. Alessa had a good view of everyone on the stadium, and they had a good view back, each corner of the stage had been gifted with a retracting ligthing tower, every light on the stage depended on them, they could get almost every angle and color, every type from strobe to soft ligthing.

The stage was a mate black all over, almost looked like a single block of ebony had been laid on the stadium grounds, under it was a hollow filled to the brim with cables and sound equipment, Alessa usually didn't need it, but some of the people who were going to sing, or play, where not Novas to have their voices carry over the air without any technological help.

All around them, the stadium grounds had been barred off, or were in the way of being barred off, by the security team, preventing any access to it by rabid fans, or worse kind of rabble like in a concert not long ago.

Alessa looked all over it from above the stadium in the control room, Karen had setted it up perfectly, but Paolo not being on time was making her fret over, one of the LE volunteers approached her, informing her that some of the starring people were about to reach the stadium, preparations would need to be accelerated.

"I...just hope that they at least get here in time! Where is Karrie?" Alessa leaves the Control Room in a huff looking for Karrie.

Connor flew above the crowd resplendant in the form and colors of the Gundam Superior. He had put his best foot forward for all of this. He'd been in the state of California for months now, all the while doing reclamation and clean-up work to aid with the recovery from the earthquake.

Trails of blue flame streaked out from the thrusters in his feet and back as fhe flew overhead. Finally he came to an upright position and descended down inside the of the stadium in one of the larger open spaces. The Superior seemed to fold in on itself as Connor took on his normal human form. He was dressed casually in khaki slacks and a bone-colored buttondown. Once down his yellow eyes scanned the entire surrounding, looking for various things, and of course, the star of the show, Alessa Neri.

He walked over to one of the Techs doing some finishing touches on things and asked "Excuse me, do you know where i might find Alessa Neri?" The tech having watched the spectacle of Connor's landing and transformation looked a little dumbstruck, but minally managed to give Connor a vague set of instructions on how to find Alessa in the control room.

Connor looked up at where the tech indicated was the control room and smiled, "I shoulda just dropped in front of the window.."

it was hard to not just fly or warp his way up, but he knew he needed to conserve power for the night's festivities, so he simply walked up the steps to the control room. Once there, he knocked on the door. "Connor Fontenot, reporting for duty." His voice was happy and full of good cheer. It was easy to see he was looking forward to things tonight.

Karrie was rooting under the console, making sure that the last-minute changes to the wiring were done properly by the crew. She'd crawled over every inch of this damn place, making sure that everything was ready to go. And then she heard his voice.

Karrie uncurled her body and flopped out from underneath the console, a big grin on her face. "Hi, Connor!" she said out, waving with a hand covered in dirt and pieces of electrical tape. "Glad you could make it."

And with that, she pulled herself back under, snickering to herself over the look on his face. Lost revenue for two weeks spent slaving here? Who knows. The look on his face? Worth every penny.

Connor was suprised to say the least. He knew it showed, but he shrugged inwardly. Hell with it man, this isn't the time or place for the how and why's. Besides, everything seems ok, right?

"Nice to see you again Karrie. You've been helping with the concert too? that's pretty cool." He did his best to keep his voice upbeat and stay happy and cheerful, but in his head at least a dozen warning klaxons were blaring that this situation could go FUBAR quick, fast, and in a hurry.

Mellow shook his head. Oh, shit. Concert tonight. Good thing Mister E had said something.

"GUYS, LET'S ROLL! MAYBE THEY'LL FIT US INTO THE BILL! SOUNDSPIDER DJ, GET YOUR GEAR!"

They pile into the van, and get rolling. About a few hours later, they find it. The one bright spot in what looked like those war-zone documentaries his parents would make him watch, to remind him of how good he had it. He never really felt that way, until now.

He ran around, trying to get someone in charge, hoping against hope to get to Neri or someone to play a quick set. He'd rehearsed, but was it enough? Time to see if he could pull it off when it counted.

He turned on the charm, and hoped it would work miracles.

"Daniel," said the well-dressed hispanic man. He pumped Ravenshire's hand as he spun the young nova around. It took a milisecond for Daniel to identify the man. Lius Ruyz, the regional manager of Aztel for the Northwestern states of Mexico and one of the people offering his companies physical and financial support for this benefit concert.
"Lius," Daniel responded warmly. "We can't thank you enough for your presence here tonight."
"So" Ruyz nugded, "I would really appreciate a meeting with Ms. Neri."
He winked then chuckled. "My daughters are real fans. Could you get me a picture with them ... let them know their father is cool?"
"I'm on it, Luis," Daniel responded with his own genuine grin. A lecherous old man would have been a problem. A father wanting some little thing for his daughters was far less onerous.

A good deal more handshaking happened before Ravenshire exited the VIP suite. He made some last minute checks to be sure that things promised were here, located, and in some form of use. No major snags came up. He even had the chance to stop by N!Prime now and again, which helped him unwined.

Part of him wanted to take time away from the official/financial grind that was the bones of the concert to which the meat would soon be added. After all, the criticsms would hold true if the money being raised tonight didn't make it to the people in need. Ravenshire girded himself and walked back into the VIP suite.

"Excuse me, but does anyone have any way of getting in contact with the organizers?"

A few inquiries, a few hopeful posts to the OpNet site, and maybe it was starting to get some momentum. Even the security team was starting to at helpful, and Barry knew that almost never happened unless under threat of lawsuit.

It was with a tinge of sadness that Hero flew down Interstate 5 late in the afternoon. He looked graceful in his light-grey bodysuit - head to toe eufiber, a small fortune worth of clothing. His mask had its classic black cross on it. What made the nova nostalgic was the lack of cars going south. South was San Diego and the concert and he had wished that somehow more of his Los Angilos were going with him. For far too many, there was no time and too little money.

Hero navigated down the '5' until he hit Mission Bay Park. From there, it was due east over golf course and the stadium came into view. Even in a city that was well on its way to recovery, it supremely strong and vibrant. Hero couldn't stop himself from circling the stadium once. He flew high to avoid having to respond to any of his fans yet. Most people wouldn't really know him, but he was getting famous on the Opnet.

Finally, he lowered himself over the crowd and hovered. Hero was waiting on Liberteen and a chance to unwind here in San Diego, a few precious hours away from the bleak existance in LA. He waved down to the people who took his name and a few hundred more took his picture as the passed underneath.
"Liberteen", he whispered under his breath.

Checking his e-mail: "Gate 7. Guys, wait here."

Hoping against hope, Barry runs over to Gate 7.

Gate 7. Where Gate 7? There Gate 7!

Barry decides to turn on the charm as he sees someone in Official Concert Outfit waiting by the promised Gate 7. "Okay, hi, I'm Barry Bard, also known as Mellow. I tried to get a spot in tonight's concert but never got a message one way or another. I'm now asking, for an opportunity to showcase myself and my band. I'm willing to do a short set, 3-5 songs, either as a warm-up for the more established acts, or during the intermission. I just want a shot. If you're willing to do that, I've already bought tickets for my band and myself. If you guys think I had what it took, it's entirely your option to refund, or we can give it to charity. If I fail it for you, I'll pay double. All I'm asking for, either way, is a shot."

Barry stops, breathing hard, awaiting the guy's response.

The guy blinks a bit, looks almost bowled over. "Sure, man, I'll tell Alessa about it. Keep ready, and I'll get back to you with when and where to set up. Get your band or whatever ready to go."

Barry smiles, and finds himself falling in love all over again with being a nova.

"Okay, Soundspider DJ and team, meet me by Gate 7. Be prepared. It looks like a go. WHOOOO!"

There's days like this in the biz. There always are. Barry was trying his best to snap Soundspider DJ out of his funk. The very shy and talented young nova had tried to approach the opening act (Sine Wave Soulstice, an avant-techno instrumentalist and apparent idol to his music-man) and been shot down, hard. Soundspider DJ was in a funk, but slowly coming back, and more determined than ever to show up his former idol.

That won't be hard. The guy's good, but he's all about the music and none of the connection. He's playing for himself, and anyone who's listening to him knows it. Barry turned away to let Soundspider collect himself, and almost walked into the mobster.

No wait, not mobster. He looked more like a gumshoe, or some Hollywood mob boss in an old black and white film. Except much better groomed. No, wait, Barry could tell, even as the guy was about to open his mouth, this guy would be the mob boss, the brains of the outfit, the big antagonist.

"Alright", the bad guy said, "I've been asked to look for an up-and-coming singer and his band by gate 7. I was told he was young and chomping at the bit for a spot. Watching you work your charm on one of your bandmates over there, and I know this because I've had experience with that sort of thing, I'm assuming you are the man they call Mellow."

No way, he's the protagonist. He's the detective who runs around beating the crap out of people until they give him what he wants. Then, like, off to the shootout.

"That's me, sir." Mellow could feel his back straightening out, like he was dealing with a retired Army sergeant who never really retired.

The old-school detective smiled, and it was a sharp ray of sun through cloud cover. "My name's David Devlin, sir. And like yourself, I am also up-and-coming in the music business. Oldies, mostly." He held out his hand, and Mellow shook it. "The one-man band, here, he's about to get his board yanked. Frankly, if I heard this crap on an airplane, I'd walk out. And I'm next, or would be, if my band hadn't got delayed at the airport. Now me, I'm thinking you've got a shot for about five songs. Make 'em count, kid. I'm good, but resurrection's a little out of my league."

Devlin spun around and sauntered off, and Mellow was suddenly thinking of what his dad had said about meeting a rather jovial Frank Sinatra.

Soundspider had come up behind him. "Old-school cool." Barry nodded. Then, "HOLY SHIT! We gotta get on! Get the rest of them. We gotta set up."

It looks so different from this side of the stage. Especially when you're facing a crowd that had no idea of what to make of the act that was on before you. And they're curious. And they're watching close enough that you can feel their eyeballs on your skin. It feels like you have to pee all over again, even if you just got back from the bathroom. You'd go back again, and keep going until you dehydrated yourself into beef jerky, just to not feel all that expectation wrapping itself around you. Right now, Mellow could count every drop of sweat on his body.

He adjusted the mic on his ear, and looked down for the third time to reassure himself that his guitar was hooked into the system. He'd just been given the go-ahead from Soundspider DJ, who needed some last minute tweaks.

He closed his eyes, and suddenly felt...mellow. "California, I'm the man they call Mellow. Right behind me, gearing up for the festivities, is my main man Soundspider DJ, who also appears courtesy of Constellation Sounds. Terry, Lissey, Anna, and Jake are singing backup."

"California, there's no mystery why we're here tonight. There are people out there who've been hit hard, harder than anyone's been hit in a long time. And there are those out here who are who've given more than they ever knew they could to help set things right. And tonight, we're reaching out, California. You have not been forgotten. We won't let that happen. I won't let that happen."

"I'm gonna go solo while Soundspider gears up." And his hands begin playing. It's spare, sad, slowed down. Not everyone recognizes it at first. The kid is good, but not nova level, and that's what the audience is waiting for.

Then he sings. And the boy has no polish. A good voice, great by baseline standard, but no extra quantum spark in it, no resonance.

"WHAT DID YOU DO? WHAT DID YOU SAY?
DID YOU WALK OR DID YOU RU-UN AWAY?
WHERE ARE YOU NOW? WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?
DID YOU GO ALONE, OR DID YOU BRING A FRIEND?
I NEED TO KNOW THIS, BECAUSE I NOTICE
YOU'RE SMILING
OUT IN THE SUN, HAVING FUN AND FEELING FREEEE.
AND I CAN TELL YOU KNOW HOW HARD THIS LIFE CAN BE,
BUT YOU KEEP ON SMILING FOR MEEEE."

But the kid has something. Something big, that draws the crowd in without them realizing it. And his voice is getting more soulful by the minute.

"WHAT WENT RIGHT, WHAT WENT WRONG?
WAS IT A STORY, OR WAS IT A SONG?
WAS IT OVERNIGHT, OR DID IT TAKE YOU LONG?
WAS KNOWING YOUR WEAKNESS WHAT MADE YOU STRONG?
OR ALL THE ABOVE? OH, HOW I LOOOOOOVE TO SEE YOU SMILING!
And oh yeah, take a little pain just in case
YOU NEED SOMETHING WARM TO EMBRACE
TO HELP YOU PUT ON A SMILING FAAAAAACE!"

The back-up singers kick in, a little early:
"Don't you go off into the new day
with any doubt
Here's a summary of some thing that
You can smile about
Say for instance my girlfriend she
Bugs me all the time
But the irony of it all is that
She loves me all the time."

He plays for a bit, seems like maybe he's about to lose his way, but then he starts singing again, and all is forgiven.

"I WANNA BE YOU WHENEVER I SEE YOU SMILING,
BECAUSE IT'S EASILY ONE OF THE HARDEST THINGS TO DOOOO!
YOUR WORRIES AND FEARS BECOME YOUR FRIENDS,
AND THEY END UP SMILING AT YOU...
SO PUT ON THAT SMILING FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACE!"

The crowd starts cheering, and suddenly Mellow isn't nervous at all. He almost doesn't notice when Soundspider gives him the all-clear.

The music kick in, low and rumbling, like a church organ being shaken back and forth under water. Little industrial squeaks of violin randomly bob up, and the subsonics kick in.

"California, tonight...there are people who feel overwhelmed and afraid. They're caught in the grip of things and people they can't understand. They're scared, and feel like lashing out. They're tired, and just want to go home."

"Tonight, luminaries walk among us, bone-weary, feeling dejected, rejected, and refused. Because it always seems like no matter how many boulders are rolled over that mountain, there's always more to roll up, and there are some that just keep rolling back down."

"TONIGHT, there are those who walk among us, looking to get over, or settle old scores. And people are wondering just how bad the aftershocks can get. BUT TONIGHT, on this stage, there's a new promise being written, a new manifesto, a change in the weather. And if you take away anything tonight, take this away with you:"

And now Mellow kicks the gospel-preacher act into high-gear, just as the trumpets kick in.

"Drop the hate.
Smile for your brother.
Unlock the gates.
Don't fear the other."

"YOU CAN SAY IT AIN'T THE TIME!
YOU CAN SAY THIS AIN'T THE PLACE!
BUT IT'S BEEN LIKE THIS FOR THE HISTORY
OF THE WHOLE HUMAN RACE!"

"Drop the hate,
And work together
Join your hands,
Join them forever."

"YOU CAN SAY I'M NAIVE
AND THERE'S SO MUCH TO BE DONE,
BUT ONLY YOU CAN LIFT YOUR HEAD UP,
TURN YOUR FACES TO THE SUN!"

"Drop the hate.
Smile for your brother,
Dig in deep,
See what you uncover."

"Drop the hate,
And walk together,
Times are hard,
But it's not forever."

"YOU CAN SAY I'M JUST A FOOL
BUT YOU CANNOT SAY I'M WRONG!
THE DARKNESS IS BREAKING,
ONLY MINUTES BEFORE DAWN!
YOU CAN SAY IT FEELS ENDLESS,
BUT THE END IS JUST IN SIGHT
FORGET THE CARES AND FEARS THAT BIND YOU,
AND WE'LL MAKE IT THROUGH THE NIGHT!"

"Drop the hate,
The fears that bind you,
Unlock the gate,
We're here to remind you.
Drop the hate."

And the music kicks in, bringing it to a close. The crowd is on it's feet, and people are moving more freely than they have in awhile.

Time to loosen it up and kick in.

The music shifts, sounding like a piano through a wah-wah pedal, like it's lazily surfing on a beach somewhere. There's even little sounds like birds in the background.

Mellow braces himself, leaning over almost backwards, letting it just build up inside him. And then, he's ready.

"HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-EEEEEEEEEEEY!
YEAH YEAH YEAH, YEAH!
WHOOA-OOOAAA!
TALKIN' BOUT MY BABY!
TALKIN' BOUT MY BABY!
LORD, SHE'S SO BEAUTIFUL, MY BABY!"

"WHEN WE WALKIN' DOWN BOURBON STREET
I CAN HARDLY STAND TO WALK BEHIND HER!
SHE GOT THEM REEEEED HOTPANTS ON!
SHE GOT ON THAT PURPLE AFRO WIG!
SHE GOT THEM HIGH HEELED SNEAKERS
AND THAT LOW-CUT SEE-THROUGH BLOUSE
WITHOUT NO BRASSIERE ON!
OH, SHE'S A SIGHT, YEAH!"

"SHE GOT THAT SAUCY, SASSY LOOK ON HER FACE
THAT MAKES ME WANNA GET UP AND
RUUUUUN THIS WHOLE HUMAN RACE!
SHE'S USING HER HIP, MAKE HER BACKBONE SLIP,
BATTIN' HER EYE
BATTIN' HER EYE
BATTIN' HER EYE LOOKING STRAIGHT AT MEEEEEEE
YE-AAAHHH YEAH yeah!"

"SHE SAY I WANNA GO OUT ON A PICNIC WITH YOU BABY!
I WANNA GO OUT ON A PICNIC WITH YOU BABY!
I WANNA GO OUT WITH YOU, BABY!"

And the back-ups kick in,
"It's absolution,
It's absolutely,"
and the music gets faster and funkier as it builds and builds.

"UNDER THE BIG BRIGHT YELLOW SUN!
(Ab-so-luuu-tion)
UNDER THE BIG BRIGHT YELLOW SUN!
(Ab-so-luuuute-ly)
UNDER THE BIG BRIGHT YELLOW SUN!
(Ab-so-luuu-tion)
UNDER THE BIG BRIGHT YELLOW SUN!
(Ab-so-luuute-ly)"

"UNDER THE BIG BRIGHT YELLOW SUN!
(Ab-so-luuu-tion)
UNDER THE BIG BRIGHT YELLOW SUN!
(Ab-so-luuuute-ly)
UNDER THE BIG BRIGHT YELLOW SUN!
(Ab-so-luuu-tion)
UNDER THE BIG BRIGHT YELLOW SUN!
(Ab-so-luuute-ly)"

"UNDER THE BIG BRIGHT YELLOW SUN!
(Ab-so-luuu-tion)
UNDER THE BIG BRIGHT YELLOW SUN!
(Ab-so-luuuute-ly)
THE BIG BRIGHT YELLOW SUN!
(Ab-so-luuu-tion)
THAT BIG BRIGHT YELLOW SUN!
(Ab-so-luuute-ly)"

"HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY-EEEEEEEEY! YEEEE-AAAAH YEAH, YEAHHHH!"

The spark hits the fuse, the fuse hits the dynamite, the crowd goes wild. And Mellow's not tired, he won't sleep for days, but he is drained. And wondering what the hell he's going to do next.

Shit. He should have practiced more, he should have come up with a song list, he should have rehearsed this. He's going on sheer momentum, and he knows it. And whatever's been pushing him along is running low on gas. Time to mellow things out, make an exit, and just chill. Just be part of the audience again.

"California, I've got one more song in me, and then I badly need to get wasted somewhere." He smiles, and the audience hoots and yowls their support. "There's plenty more where I came from, and I'd like to thank Alessa, my back-up singers, Spidersound DJ, and all of you for having me out here, tonight. I don't care, this place is beautiful." Wild applause.

"It's just me and my guitar, so let me play you a favorite of mine. Let's mellow it out a little."

"Know it sounds funny but I
Just can't stand the pain,
Girl, I'm leavin' tomorrow,
Seems to me girl y'know I've done all I can,
You see I've beg, stolen, and borrowed.

S'why I'm easy ..... easy like Sunday mornin',
It's why I'm easy ..... easy like Sunday mornin'.
Awwwww-ah, yeahhhh...

Why in the world would anybody put chains on me, yeah,
I've paid my dues to make it,
Everybody wants me to be what they want me to be,
I'm not happy when I try to fake it, oooh.

S'why I'm easy ..... easy like Sunday mornin',
It's why I'm easy ..... easy like Sunday mornin'.

I wanna be high ..... so high,
I wanna be free to know the things I do are right,
I wanna be free ..... just me....Ooh!

S'why I'm easy ..... easy like Sunday mornin',
It's why I'm easy ..... easy like Sunday mornin'.
S'why I'm easy ..... easy like Sunday mornin',
It's why I'm easy ..... easy like Sunday mornin'.
Awwwww, yeahhh..."

The audience claps along, building to a crescendo when he's done. He exits the stage calmly, and David Devlin is in the wings, a thumbs-up and a raised eyebrow waiting for Mellow.

"Ladies and gentleman, pity this poor traveling bard, for that is the act I must follow, the man they call Mellow. I've got some tunes of my own I'll hope you enjoy..." And Mellow can barely hear it; ears ringing, heart pounding, he joins up with his bandmates to try to get a second wind going. It's going to be an awesome crash when he comes down, but now he's flying without ever leaving the earth...

Neri was lost in a sea of people, his ride decided to go further backstage without him and Pele's knees shake sligthly when he realizes the magnitude of the task he had offered to do.

Ligthing his hand on fire to light up a cig, he took a drag from it and let the smoke fill his lungs and the nicotine creep through his nerveous system, of course this days a single cigarrete did nothing to him, it was more of a psychological effect.

Standing to the sides of the stadium, under the bleachers, he looked as this Mellow fellow sang and pumped up the crowds, looks like the guy was too hot for just an interim spot so they prolonged his time a bit, it was a good thing.

Pele put his hands together, creathing a small flaming shape,a sphere of hot plasma disobeying every law of nature telling it how it was supposed to be shaped, it slowly took the shape of a woman, dancing.

Some of the passer-bys stared at him, or rather at the fire, and he just commented out loud. "Hope I don't blow it tonight, eh?"

Mellow was pacing back stage, wishing to hell he could dorm down and just blend in with the crowd. Devlin was doing respectable for that his music was 60 years out of date easily. But he'd caught his second wind, and was hoping for some feedback on his performance, although he'd gladly settle for someone he knew to talk to. His crew had slipped out and were supposed to be scouting out some nova-level booze for him.

He noticed the guy playing with fire backstage. He walked up to the fire-trainer and said, "Hey! Is that what you're doing for tonight's concert? Hi, by the way. Name's Mellow; I was up on stage earlier."

Pele looks up at Mellow "Pele here, I heard you sing, one hell of a voice you got there kid, still pale to Miss Neri tho. Keep at it, you will get better."

Relaxing a bit, Pele creates a circle of fire infront of himself, shooting the cigarrete smoke through it in puffs. "Don't miss my show, its going be the hot piece of tonight." Pele gets up, walking towards the bowels of the stadium "Now where did they put that food table..."

"Right here," says the Latina beauty, teleporting next to the two novas with a tray full of kabobs. Esmeralda extends the tray forward.
"We have wild fruit, mellon, meat, and shrimp. I found them over there," she adds, waving a mellon kabob over her shoulder in the general direction of the bowels of the stadium.

Holding the tray out effortlessly,
"I'm Emerald," she says to Mellow. "I brought the Molten Fire God here for tonight's show. Right now I'm just bumming around back stage, seeing if there is anyone worth meeting."

"Wow. Cool, thanks, I've been trying to get food and stuff without wandering around too much. I don't want to wander around and risk getting an impromptu entourage." Mellow was gracious but obviously enjoying the food, and Emerald's tray quickly got lighter.

"Uh, hey, is there anyway I could get some liquid refreshment of the nova-strength variety, since I'm officially off-duty now?" He smiled what he hoped was a winning smile, and one devoid of anything caught in his teeth.

Disaster relief was never easy. Oh, sure, it was about a billion times easier than being a disaster victim, without a doubt. But rarely to disaster victims suffer thoroughly obtuse crises of conscience, and that is what Brittany was trying to muddle through, at the moment. Sometimes there's survivor's guilt after the crisis passes, this lingering feeling that you didn't deserve to be one of the lucky ones who made it out alive. "Big deal", she wanted to tell them. "Those of us on the outside have no idea at all. Most of us don't even have the sense or sensitivity to feel guilty. You were lucky. Don't beat yourself up over it."

Showing up to help move bricks or paint or hammer nails was different. You were just expected to show up and do it. But charity events like this - this would be her third, and the largest by a scale of hundreds - are supposed to be about...what? Raising money, maybe cheering some people up, showing people that in crisis, they're not alone. Right? How does someone from the outside handle trying to deal with a situation they so thoroughly do not get? Do you dress drab and shabbily to not put yourself above everyone else and not remind the unfortunate of how much they've lost, or brilliantly and cheerfully to try and remind them that things can and will get better? Do you act happy and gay to brighten their moods, or somber and empathic to relate? How the hell does anybody act around these things?

Brittany grimaced, looking in the mirror as she shifted her eufiber colony between three or four designs ranging from muted and conservative, to festive and bright, to sexy and even risque. Grumpily, she sighed, and felt bad that she should even have these concerns. She didn't get it. She wasn't there. She'd helped afterward, sure, but that meant comparatively little to people who'd lost their homes, their loved ones, everything. How could she get up on stage and tell these people it was okay, or nod sadly and pretend to understand what they were going through? And who the hell was she to even feel bad about having this idiotic crisis of conscience? She wondered if anyone else was having the same problem.

A few more ponderous moments finally wore her down. She gave up, figuring she'd make the decision when she got there. You know, feel out the mood, maybe take a cue from what the others were doing. Or weren't doing. She didn't know. Setting her colony back to its default, she grabbed her phone, her tickets, and chip player, stepped outside, and took off for California on her own.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

The trip over provided ample time for her to practice her singing, which she thought she needed. She was taking Alessa's offer seriously, in case she decided to call on her to deliver, and had spent the last few days fairly well memorizing her musical catalog. It made for great music for the trip, to boot, tinged only with the mild anxiety by parts of songs she blanked on or hit sour. She hoped she didn't screw everything up, but then again, she'd been to enough live shows to know that unless you're the headliner, getting on stage is only twenty percent how well you sing and eighty percent how good you look doing it, and she figured she could handle that.

The trip itself was wonderful, she remarked to herself. It was her second time going to far on her own, and this time she couldn't stop herself a little fun in slowing down to take a Battle of Yavin-esque flight through the Grand Canyon. She found herself feeling better with every few hundred miles that passed, and by the time she finally reached the Pacific, she wasn't feeling half bad, the nagging anxiety at the back of her mind notwithstanding.

She checked her phone and noted the time. There was still a few hours before the concert, but she realized just then that she'd never actually set up a time or place to give Hero is ticket to get in. Could she just leave it at will-call? Probably, but would he know to go there? She thought to see if she knew anybody with his number, but wasn't sure. She wasn't even totally sure what he looked like. She could always let him find her, but that meant sticking herself out in the middle of public to be mobbed until Hero battled his way through. No, no... Hopefully he'd have some kind of mobile device on him. As she opened up her PDA to send him a message, she told herself it would simply have to do for now.

"Oh, hey Emerald, I just had a thought. On an off-chance, would you happen to know where Alessa Neri is? I wanted to talk with her and thank her for the impromptu spot opening up."

"And thank you sooooooo muuuuch for this food. I don't entirely know what my li'l node was doing out there, but I feel like I ran a marathon."

Emerald swallows some half-chewed mellon before responding.
"Neri? 'Fraid not. I imagine you could find someone around here who looks like they know what they are doing and beat it - metaphorically - out of them."

With another piece of friut about to pass her lips, she adds, "I'm not supposed to be here myself. I'm hard to keep out so they're not bothering."

Mellow laughs. "Yeah, for all I know they were saying the same thing about me, until I showed up and begged them for a spot."

"Hey, since I've got you here: It's nice to meet you in person rather than just online. I'm new at this, and one of the big reasons to come out here, for me, was to meet people and put faces to names. If you don't mind my asking, could you tell me a bit about yourself? Or are you in a rush?"

Emerald shrugs while she munches.
"I'm Esmeralda Panadero. I live in Caracas Venezuala. I teleport around the globe as a bonded courier. That's me when I'm at work."
Munch munch.
"Business is something I do because that's what my family expects me to do. What I want to be doing is living. You know -meeting people, going places, doing new and interesting things."
She eyes a meat kabob, but spares it her hunger.

"I love being a nova." She gives an arrogant flip of her head.
"There is nothing to compare to the freedom," she hesitates, searching for the words.
"... freedom to do instead of dream of doing. Hell, we are the Masters of Creation ... and Mistresses," she adds with a wink.

"Do you know what I mean?"

"I guess. Me, apparently my superpower is convincing people I'm a nice guy. Which I am, most times. And I can sing pretty well. I don't want to master of the world, I just wanna be White Soul Brother Number One, you know?"

She wanted to argue with the man, except she didn't. Somehow, she opted to give this Slacker-God a pass. So, instead she smiled and shrugged.
"Alright," she mumbled before trying some of that tasty pork. She looked to Pele to see what he could make of this ... situation.

"Yeah, I'm an easy-to-please kinda guy." Mellow said, knowing somehow that the conversation had hit a bump. "I mean, before I popped, I couldn't carry a tune if it had a handle, and I couldn't work up the nerve to just open up and talk to people. I was pretty sure I was going to end up on the business side of the entertainment industry. I didn't want that, but I grew up with it, and I didn't know anything else. So, for me, being able to wow people by getting up and singing...it already feels like I conquered the world. And besides, even if I did conquer it, I'd end up having to run it, and that would suck."

"Now, I might feel differently if I could teleport, or I was a science genius who could create stuff out of sheer quantum, or something, but that's not my bag." Mellow shrugged.