Antlers
Shu
wintersoldier
Mixtape Ghost N
TrippyNightmare
Charley
Marik
Shoopuf
Lime
Archazen
When you’re young and dumb, you tend to have role-models. You emulate them. You revere them. You copy their every move like a less-creepy stalker.
It seems to be inevitable that people gravitate from celebrities to heroes. Gods. Men. Monsters. People with extraordinary abilities in what was once an mundane world.
Every time you do something, you always think about what that person would do in your shoes. You’d be hard-pressed to find a single girl in my school takes after Wonder Woman as a symbol of feminism. Captain America shields are passed around like cotton candy during Halloweens.
I’d never imagine becoming a role-model myself. Me? Hanging out with the big leagues? Going on international missions? Saving the world?
I could laugh at the thought of that.
“ Pssst, hey!”
A tug on his wrist woke Virgil up from his nap just as the public bus shuttle lurched a right turn, inertia tilting everybody on the vehicle slightly to the left. It was two stops before he reached Hemingway. He turned his head to the left to see a young girl, holding out a pastel-colored comic book with a toothed grin. An adult-size blue parka made her small frame look more bigger than it was.
“ Uhhhh…”
The girl waved the comic book in his face for a moment as if it was obvious before speaking in a saccharine tone that naivety could only afford.
“ Could I please have your autograph, Mr Static?”
“ Sure….” Virgil gingerly took the chipped crayon that the kid offered him along with the comic book. On the front page was a scene of the Man with a Plan himself socking Red Skull in the face with bright, cartoonish text from a bygone era. It would have been more appropriate for Cap himself to sign it but unfortunately, it would be hard to raise a dead man out of the grave. Bradley and Nasland could never compare to the original Steve Rogers. Virgil murmured whilst attempting to scrawl a legible signature on the front page of the comic book.
“ Name?”
“ Raquel Ervin.”
“ To. My. Biggest. Fan. Raquel. “ Virgil punctuated each word slowly before Raquel piped up in a giggle.
“ What’s with the weird swimming goggles?”
“ Firstly, they’re welding goggles.” Virgil tapped the cracked edge of the yellow visor to emphasise his point “ and secondly, they’re not weird. They’re awesome.”
He returned back to signing the autograph, the soft purple wax smudging against the brown stained paper.
“ Remember. You. Always. Have…. ”
His voice trailed off on the unspoken words. A choice. After his conversation with the Shocker, he wasn’t sure if Dakota City gave him a choice in the first place. It took him a struggling minute to write those last two words down, the words his mother and father lived by, the words that he was beginning to doubt. The old brakes of the bus screeched, the chassis swinging back and forth like a pendulum.
“ This is your bus driver speaking. We are currently at Washington Avenue..”
Virgil sheepishly handed it over towards Raquel who snatched it in a blur and began to inspect it.
“ Sorry if it doesn’t look good. It’s my first time -”
There was a loud gasp, Virgil sucking in his breath nervously, before Raquel began bouncing up and down. “ It’s TOTALLY Awesome! This is gonna be great for tomorrow’s show and tell!”
Raquel hopped off the bus stop and began to run back towards her home in a frantic pace. Virgil could have sworn that she was skipping over each crack in the sidewalk. The bus doors shuttered close just as she began to wave a good bye to him. He waved silently before shaking his head in annoyed amusement. If he had mentioned to her that it'd been the first autograph he'd ever given to someone else, she would have exploded in joy.
It was lucky that he still had a few spare dollars from last month’s allowance to afford a ride across Dakota. It was a painful discovery to find out that his metaphorical internal battery could no longer provide enough electricity for street-surfing after leaving Mr Schumer's home. He squeezed a fist, minute droplets of electricity leaking out like a facet as his brain was burning with indecision. He massaged the left side of his scalp which had a small cut on it that had gummed up with scab. Or was it the Shocker's home? Virgil internally debated over what to do with a man who he once knew as his chemistry teacher and now as a former retired supervillain.
Turn him into the authorities? Arrest him? Virgil bit his lip as he considered it. Stab Schultz in the back? The person who had stolen from him was the real danger to the public of Dakota City, not some washed up retiree. His house was built on stolen money, though. Money that had been accumulated from a long career of robbing banks. What Dakota City needed was less criminals, not more criminals. He couldn't let him go, nor did he have the courage to arrest him. Virgil slumped back into the linoleum seating, staring outside at the afternoon urban jungle of inner Dakota City. He wondered if Black Lightning -
No. He didn't even want to think of that stranger now.
Though, the last words that Schultz gave him before he slammed the door shut in face left something for him to mull over.
No one ever told you to be a hero.
But no one ever told him not to be one.
“ This is your bus driver speaking. We are currently stopping at Hemingway High.”
Virgil stood up. Most occupants of the bus were trying to pretend not to notice him of courtesy but he could see them peering from out of their phones or sneaking a glance at him from behind their newspapers. He walked to the front doors, preparing to step off.
“ Wait. Before you go - “ Virgil turned around with a raised eyebrow of confusion. The bus driver took out from a phone from his pocket and looked at Virgil in a grin that made his eyes roll “ - You got time for a selfie?”
Larry Buchinsky was frustrated. He clanged the mallet down, using every molecule of anger that he had within his being to shape the weapon which would slay Static. His workbench was covered in sweat from the 24 hours of work he had done. He had to fend off the complaints of landlords and neighboring tenants with polite apologies and death threats alike.
48 more hours to deliver Static's head on a platter to Ebon. 48 more hours for Ebon to take control of the city and depose the Mayor. 48 more hours for Ebon to secure funding for the Freeman Community Center. Herman tossed the hammer away and took out an acetylene welding torch, the inner bowels of his apartment glowing neon blue from his work.
His tinkering had leading results that Herman Schultz would have never imagined. Deciphering the secret to Schultz's shock-gauntlets was like trying to solve a puzzle whilst missing essential pieces. Every member of the Squadron Supreme kept the blueprints behind their technologies a secret with the exception of Boomerang, who stuck C4 to the end of one of his signature razor-rangs and called it innovation.
This, though....This was a triumph. Herman shut off the flow of heat and pried off his welding mask, taking a gander at his suit. A series of electrical relays had been welded onto the back that connected to a power pack that supplied energy to his very own shock-gauntlets. The electrical relays would allow him to absorb the electrical blats that the Kilowatt Kid was so fond of and turn the vigilante into his very own pit stop.
Luring out the Kilowatt Kid would prove difficult, given that he didn’t know his behaviour. However, like every vigilante with a hero complex, causing the largest commotion would grab the kid’s attention. He had a plan in the -
His phone rang. Larry picked up the phone, immediately recognizing the brusque voice of Robert Hawkins, manager of the Freeman Community Center.
“ Hey, Rob. I’m still working on securing those funds for us. I know that the deadline - “
“ That’s not the reason I called you. I’ve got good news and bad news.”
“ The bad news first.”
“ The bad news is that the city council has decided to redistribute their grant for us towards cleaning up the Black Hole.”
Larry winced “ Well, that’s a waste of time. The good news?".
“ We’ve received some donations from some minor charity programmes associated with Wayne and Queen Industries. Not much but it’ll keep us afloat for a month or so.”
“ That’s…..great.”
“ The second news is that I’m inviting you to a coffee lunch this Saturday. My son’ll be there.”
Larry groaned and stared at the calendar on the wall.
" Rob, maybe, this isn't the best time for me...."
" Think about it."
" I will." Larry returned back to staring at his completed work before squinting “ Your son….Isn’t he that Virgil boy you told me about?”
“ The one and the same. He’s a good kid for his age. Trust me, he's not going to be much of a nuisance. I hope you're okay with having him at the table.”
