Chapter 19 – Making Air Waves

“Look mommy, it’s the guy on TV!”

Arwain turned around, package in hand, and waved to a bubbly child. An excitement exuded like meeting one’s favorite superhero in person. It was such a warm feeling that Arwain had literally forgotten all the embarrassment he felt just a week ago.

It didn’t take long for people to know about Arwain and the crew of Silver Stream. The city was doing its best to promote them as important figures tasked with defending everyone’s right to fly.

Scattered footage of Arwain and crew’s previous bomb retrievals captured from CCTV were spliced together into a montage that boosted their image. With hometown heroes flying around the skies, the growing worries of the public had been doused. Daedalus’s plan to sew panic and tank Mayor DeWine’s approval was being countered by a growing fanbase around Silver Stream.

Of course, everyone had their favorites.

Arwain was most popular with the children. His messy mop of red hair as he sailed through the skies reminded many of the stereotypical red ranger, daring and central to the team. The way he nimbly flew circles around obstacles and made flashy dismounts were the subject of outbursts and cheering. That type of bravado became what young Flyers aspired to be.

Jester’s strength and dexterity attracted a brand-new audience that didn’t realize that flying could be so technical and precise. The techniques he employed from his circus days made for instant study for those in sports and the arts. And then, there was his form-fitted flight suit showing off his chiseled body. Combined with a gentlemanly demeanor and a soft spot for children, he became the talk of the housewives.

“I received a package from him today, and I couldn’t help but ogle his other ‘package’,” giggled one lady.

A red streak lit up her friend, who hid her cheeks with a palm.

“I remember that I have a few things on my wish list. And a gift card from filling out surveys. I think it’s time to cash out. Do you think they take special requests?”

Needless to say, the AI bot on the Amazing Prime shopping site soon got a flood of requests for delivery persons like choosing hosts at a club.

Queen found a bunch of date requests attached to her packages, at least at first. It was one thing to see her competency on the screens. It was another to meet the off-work persona leaking out her normal lechery, unnerving several suitors that didn’t know how B and L went together. Though, she had gone on a date every night for the past week, few of them could survive past dinner.

Arwain found her at the kitchen table one day, a half-empty bottle of wine swaying in her hand, a slur to her speech.

“Waz wrong wid a wee bit of foreplay onna first date?! Cowards! All of dem!”

Anyone looking at the scene would simply shake their head at her, but Arwain did the nice thing and helped her to bed.

“Wainy boy! You’ll lemme grab your ass, right? Right? You’re da best!” she cried out, literally collapsing into his arms, instantly asleep.

“Any time, Queen. I know it’s just a test to scare off people that aren’t serious about you.”

Even with Queen’s trust issues, those men were still lucky to be put down gently. Just as many approached Sarge with similar requests. A cold glare made some cower in fear, lacking the courage to court the beauty. One man, however, felt heated instead. That instantly made Sarge curious, who stepped forward and gripped him by the chin.

“I recognize you. A recent patron from the city council, I believe.”

“Y-Yes, ma’am!”

“Speak. Your name?”

“J-J-Johann, ma’am! I work at the public safety department for the city! Thank you for responding to me! It was love at first sight when you landed on- I mean in front of me! And then you pulled out that whip, and asdofuhlsd-”

Sarge pinched his lips together to stop him from talking for a moment.

“A bit on the portly side. Nothing a bit of training won’t solve. I have expectations. 7pm. Flowers. Food preference?”

“H-Hawaiian pizza… Big Ol’ Caesers, maybe?”

Sarge glared at him with a hint of surprise. It was a curious choice compared to the admiration that man was showing towards her. He was sweating bullets, wondering if he had flubbed his one chance. But then, Sarge’s gaze softened.

“A compromise then. I see you have some backbone to voice your own preferences rather than cater to mine. I expect to hear more. See you after work.”

Stepping back, Sarge shot him a smile that melted the ice that he had been trapped in. It took several minutes for it to sink in after she sped off. But when it did, he did a fist pump and scrambled inside to make preparations.

Dingleberry, on the other hand, felt even more self-conscious whenever he saw the camera following him around. As he was still unsure of his own abilities, judging his every action pressured him into even more mistakes.

“Carefully… carefully…”

His toes tapped onto the platform, just as his wings started feeling heavy. He had slowly gotten used to gliding with the wind, rather than resisting it. It put far less strain on his wings as his confidence in his flight range grew along with the experience.

“Sir, here’s your pack- ahhhh!”

A slip of the foot launched him forward into a front flip, his wings having flapped in a panic to add a burst of lift. Twisting and turning in the air, Dingleberry sailed right by his customer, seeing him while upside down. Another flap of the wings forced him to turn back around in an attempt to recover. However, the customer winced as he crashed a few meters short, sliding across the platform with his butt raised up. The package in his hands somehow held, propped up by his elbows, looking like he had kowtow slid before a noble to offer penance.

The next moment, he popped up, as if nothing had gone wrong. The smile on Dingleberry’s face made it hard not to cheer for him regardless.

Viral moments such as these soon became the most replayed videos online, with a whole playlist dedicated to ‘What did Dingleberry do now?’ hitting the top of the searches. If it were merely cringeworthy accidents, the farm boy wouldn’t have been so endeared. It ticked off the same sense of jolliness that people enjoying cat videos looked for. And it added an extra layer of entertainment that sent Silver Stream’s fame soaring.

“C’mon, Arwain. Enough of showing off to the kiddos. Packages are being held up with your name on them.”

“Aw, Jolly. Let me have a little fun. It’s not every day that you get appreciated for the simple job of moving things around. It’s a win for the working class.”

“That is if you work, instead of playing mascot for the city. You can look good with the wind through your hair instead of slicking it back with your hand, posing like some cartoon character.”

“I sense jealousy behind the console. Should I ask Sarge to switch with you, so that you can have a spin outdoors?”

“No thanks, my wings are for convenience, not challenges. I’m perfectly content with being the nerdy supporter in the chair.”

“You say that, but you still wipe the floor with me at aerial soccer.”

“I happen to value finesse over bone-headed charging across the field.”

“Finesse me some packages then.”

For as long as Arwain had known her, Jolly held a certain caution when it came to flying. Perhaps, it was in response to Arwain’s frequent disregard for his own safety. After all, she never did forgive him for pushing her off a ledge into a free fall before they got their wings. By the time their safety shoes kicked in and he caught her, she had completely blacked out from the experience.

Ever since then, the way she looked down as she flew was like she expected massive fan blades ready to chew her up from a single drop. It didn’t help that she rationalized it as a perfectly normal thing… two generations ago.

Regardless, things were looking up for Silver Stream. Arwain could only hope that it would continue that way. He settled back into the routine of catching and delivering packages, all while keeping an ear open for the next threat to the city.

Jolly, on the other hand, tucked her knees in, rocking back and forth in her chair. Her wings wrapped around her like a blanket as she furiously eyed each member’s status. Such fortune seemed too good to be true. Since her parents were venture capitalists, she had been raised to throw suspicion when things were too squeaky clean.