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2 yrs ago
Current Auld Lang Syne, everybody. roleplayerguild.com/topics/…
3 yrs ago
Vote in my new quest, Mirage, a RP quest set in the far, far future roleplayerguild.com/topics/…
3 yrs ago
Kink-Shaming. Kink-Shaming Never Changes.
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4 yrs ago
roleplayerguild.com/posts/5… Vote for Dead in Depression. The mechanics of the quest have now been posted!
4 yrs ago
Voting is open until the end of the week! Please come and vote! - roleplayerguild.com/topics/…
1 like

Bio





ROLEPLAY BUCKET LIST
- Walmart Apocalypse Roleplay
- Nightmare Gas Station
- Underrail/Fallout/Post Apocalyptic Roleplay. Codename: Clausterclysm
- Anthromorphic Grimdark Animal Fantasy Roleplay. Codename: Fallowbrook.
- Eldritch Abomination Garfield Roleplay. Codename: Lasagna.
- Infinite IKEA Roleplay. Codename: God Morgon
- Roleplayerguild High School RP. Codename: Highschool Roleplay
- Cyberpunk South East Asia RP. Codename: Straits of Malacca. [CURRENTLY HAPPENING]


CURRENT PROJECTS

- FRAYED TAPESTRY - AN EPIC FANTASY RP (WIP)
- THE LAST DEPRESSION - A RED MARKETS QUEST/PLAY BY POST RP (UNDECIDED)

Most Recent Posts

Here is my character sheet. I was inspired by Captain America. How is it?

Secret Identity – Max Tacticularius Radical
Codename – Maximum Tacticularius Radical
Age – 17
Powers – Have you ever thought what an eagle can do? Have you ever thought about how many eagles currently exist on this earth. Have you ever fully read the wikipedia page of an eagle. Have you ever vigorously pondered upon the very concept of eagles mating together? Maximum Tacticularius Radical will make you consider all those questions when you battle him for the first time.

Now, you're probably wondering what I meant. Was Maximum Tacticularius Radical raised by an eagle? Is Maximum Tacticularius Radical the genetic hybrid of an eagle and a human? Does Maximum Tacticularius Radical know the magical arts of eagleomancy? Can Maximum Tacticularius Radical copulate with eagles?

Maximum Tacticularius Radical would like to say yes.

Because the actual truth is that he doesn't have any powers at all.

He's just a man in an eagle costume.

Weaknesses - Maximum Tacticularius Radical fears anything un-american. Chinese food, communism, refugees, the very concept of something existing outside of America makes him recoil in fear. If you were to make him eat a single dumpling, he would start convulsing and fall on the floor in a spastic, foaming fit.

Personality – Patriotic - Nationalistic - Jingoistic - Awesometacular - Brotacular

Experience – 0

Day Job – Being a mascot for a cereal brand.

How did Arrowcaster find you? Offering free cereal samples at the supermarket.

BRIEF Bio – Born to a rich family in the Bronx, Max Radical was rejected from NYU when he attempted to publish a paper claiming that eagles could be used as an unlimited source of power. He went on a journey of self-discovery, spending all of his wealth to become the eagle.

It failed miserably.

Five years later after his self-imposed quest, Max was discovered by a cereal salesman by the name of Dick Dastardly Richard in an alleyway, hungry, skeletal and in a pitiful state. He demonstrated to the salesman his impressive knowledge of eagle reproductive cycles. Dick Richard saw a talent in this young, able soul as a mascot for his failing cereal brand.

Armed with a signpost and a 10 dollar eagle costume from a furry convention, Max found completion.

He was the eagle.

He felt like an eagle.

Sample Post -

Arrowcaster had heard rumours in the neighborhood about a strange person who had a manic fit with eagles. Someone that he could mould and train to be a part of his team. He had spotted it and gone over to offer it a position on his team.

The eagle turned around. It took a few seconds for Arrowcaster to realise that it wasn't a large eagle but rather a large man in an eagle.

" I'm looking for special - " A large wing batted the side of Arrowcaster's head, interrupting him as the man-eagle began to speak.

" What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my nest in the Navy Eagles, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Eagle , and I have over 300 confirmed prey kills. I am trained in eagle warfare and I’m the top shitter in the entire US eagle forces. You are nothing to me but just another prey. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of eagles cross the USA and your nest is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my bare wings. Not only am I extensively trained in eagle combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Eagle Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit eagle fury all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking dead, kiddo."

There was a moment of silence. Arrowcaster wiped a tear from his eye and raised a hand out, the first contact between man and majestic man-eagle.

" You're in."
And with that, Static's first issue is finished. I'm gonna start up on the epilogue soon after. Whether the crossover event begins before or after I finish it will affect how it all goes together but overall, I'm tired, I think I could have done better in some places overall but the arc is done.






March 5th, 2019.

A week after the Big Bang.

It’s when he tames lightning for the first time.

He remembers it clearly. There’s an extra plate, a knife and a fork on during dinner when Dad sets the table. Monday night. Fresh on the eve on Mom’s funeral. Her worktable is coated in a thin strip of dust. Dad acts like she’s still sleeping next to him, even though he has the bed all to himself right now. Sharon locks her room, inconsolable. He can’t even lure her out with the promise of a good old fashioned round of Monopoly. Besides, she knows he always cheats.

They say here’s always a catalyst at the beginning of everything great. An accident. A wish. A desire. For him, it was the weather.

Grey clouds brewed warily outside in the dying night sky. Mom used to tell him whenever it rained, it was a sign that Black Lightning was close by before he left. He stops writing and stares towards the claps of thunder and branches of lightning in the distance, waiting for the shock of sound that arrives a heartbeat later after the searing flash of light. Counting. Waiting for a miracle to happen as if wishing for a shooting star.

It’s all it takes. Something wells up from his belly and then, the lights begin dim and brighten sporadically. His laptop begins to quake along with every other object in his room. He ain’t haunted by a ghost. He’s haunted by lightning.

Or rather, he is lightning.

Every pulse in his body is a stroke of thunder. Lightning courses through his veins and arteries like ichor. He looks in wonder as static burns through the tips of his fingers and toes, blood vessels glowing blue. He closes his eyes and sees a world of frenetic energy, schools of glowing fish swimming through an ethereal maze.

He sees the heart of Dakota City in all its glory.





There was only one answer that Virgil could give in response, one that completely and perfectly encapsulated his feelings about the situation as a whole.

“ What?”

“Oh, for the love of….” Buchinsky narrowed his eyes, a vein on his head throbbing in frustration “ Sit down. I’m not going to kill you. Yet.”

The casual threat on his life shut Virgil up as he obeyed Buchinsky instructions. He began slowly walking towards the bunk bed. The door was still unlocked. Perhaps, if he’d gave a shout out in the corridor or if someone walked in by accident. At that moment, Buchinsky spoke up, making Virgil wonder if the man was somehow reading his thoughts.

“ Lock the door.” Buchinsky finished off the last of the chips, scrunching the bag up in his hands “ We don’t want any unexpected guests barging into our little conversation.”

Virgil turned around and very slowly locked the door, looking back every now and then to see Buchinsky staring pointedly at him, making sure that he wasn’t being tricked. Virgil strode back and squat down, a soft whine emitting from the mattress as it struggled to support both of their weights.

“ So, let’s get down to brass tacks, Lightning Junior. I know who you are and you know who I am.” Just as Virgil began to shake his head, Buchinsky waggled his finger. “ Don’t play the role of clueless high-schooler with me. You do, don’t you? Nod your head if I’m correct.”

Virgil nodded once.

“ See?” Buchinsky raised both of his arms up exasperatedly. “ That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

A silent gulp. Buchinsky leaned back and chuckled, shaking his head. “ I never much understood the point of secret identities, you know. Protect your loved ones. I’m supposed to feel something now that you know who I am. Anger, shock, fear, stress……”

Buchinsky stood up and wandered over towards Richie’s prone form. Virgil stiffened as Buchinsky rotated the chair around, as if to deliberately test him.

“ The truth is that I feel nothing at all. In fact, it’s a certain burden lifted off my shoulder. For you, though, I can’t imagine the pain you’re feeling right now, hero. I’ve made a few enemies throughout my entire lifetime but you? How many enemies have you made in one month? Bang babies, robbers, little old me targeting your families and friends.”

As Buchinsky continued to speak, the bedside lamp began to flicker spastically, catching the criminal’s attention at the last moment. Virgil shot Buchinsky a glare as he unscrewed the bulb from the lamp and held it carefully in one of his hands. Electricity bubbled frothfully out of his body, making the electronics go haywire in the dorm room. Virgil gritted out his reply.

“ Do you love hearing yourself talk or do you want to start talking about why you haven’t killed me yet? ”

“ Not one to mince words, I see.” Buchinsky was aimlessly playing with the bulb in his gloved hands whilst speaking to Virgil. “ How should I say this. My clients wanted me to kill you, which I would have done so gladly. Fortunately, after our little conversation at Sadler, I’ve had a change of heart. I’ve come up with a solution that doesn’t involve gratuitous violence.”

The bulb stopped flickering. Buchinsky took it as a signal to continue further. His taunting face had morphed into one of stoicism.

“ Instead of me killing Static, you’ll be killing Static.” said Buchinsky, folding both of his arms.

“ Uh…..” Virgil tilted his head in confusion. “ So, should I be throwing myself out that window right now?”

“ Funny. Though it would be tempting to do what you just said…” Buchinsky flashed a smile before returning back to scowling at Virgil “ You’ll stop being Static. Forever. Virgil Hawkins, the ordinary high-schooler, will still live but Static? Static dies. We’ll never see each other again as long as you don’t use your powers in public ever again. It’s a win-win situation. ”

Virgil was now suddenly more scared about the fact that he was considering the offer rather than the presence of a homicidal wanted criminal knowing his secret identity. The beating of his eardrums grew louder and louder.

“ But, the city won’t.”

Maybe, Buchinsky’s deal was alright. No pay. No reward. No fame. He’d gotten nothing in return for being a hero.

“ You don’t have to worry about the city anymore.” Buchinsky’s voice was an echo across mountains, seemingly miles away now. “ My client will ensure things in Dakota City will go smoothly as long as they remained convinced you’re dead.”

“ Hard to trust someone who sets a target on my head.”

“ There are some things you just don’t understand, kid.” Buchinsky offered his hand out to his, confident that Virgil wouldn’t electrocute him on the spot. A devil’s handshake. “ You’ve got two choices now. So, which one will it be?”

His eyes shut, shirking away from Buchinsky’s waiting laser-focus stare.

In Dakota City, you always have a choice.

Virgil tilted his head upwards to look at Buchinsky before standing up. A plan began to form in his head as he stared at the lightbulb still tucked in the corner of Buchinsky’s right hand.

“ Thank you. I knew this was hard for - “

“ I’m prefer to go off-road.”

Unfortunately, Buchinsky was still holding the light bulb within his left hand. Virgil had been letting electricity accumulate like a water balloon within his chest, letting it burst apart. The incandescent bulb became painfully hot before shattering apart like a firecracker, glass shrapnel lodging itself within the palm of Buchinsky’s right hand. Buchinsky grunted, holding his cut hand in pain before meeting a sucker punch to the face. There was a resounding crack that made him wince. Buchinsky bowled over on the floor, his thoughts dulled by the sensation of pain. Ignoring the soreness of his knuckles and with Buchinsky cursing a storm about his broken nose on the ground, Virgil ran over towards Richie’s prone form and shook him.

“ C’mon, Richie. We gotta get out of here…” Virgil murmured whilst trying to find a way to unbind him.

Richie slowly woke up, blearily blinking his eyes open. “ Vir...Vir..Virgil? What’s going on….”

“ Explanations later. Right now, we gotta get this BDSM shtick off you - “ A loud pneumatic suddenly whine issued from behind him. Buchinsky was beginning to stand up on his knees, still disoriented from the blow as he leaned onto the wall for support. With a tug, Virgil finally tore off the bindings off Richie’s hands. It only took moments for Richie to tear the rest of the restraints of him before grabbing Virgil’s arms and beginning to babble tearfully, despite Virgil’s attempts to calm him.

“Virgilohmygodi’msosorryhejustknockedonthedoorandithoughtitwasthepizzaiorderedahouragoandIaskedhimwhyhewas-” Richie shut up and pointed over Virgil’s shoulder silently. Both of them turned around to see a pissed off Buchinsky, having fully come to his senses. The trickle of blood running down his lip didn’t help to make him look less intimidating. Buchinsky morphed into the namesake of the Electrocutioner as he rammed both of his shock gauntlets together and began to run towards them like a raging bull.

“ That all you got?”

Virgil pushed Richie to the left, out of the way of the Electrocutioner's brazen charge. A hand caught itself around his throat, slamming him against the wall. A noose of steel-like fingers was starving him of oxygen, his legs kicking against the Electrocutioner in an attempt to get him off. That was with only one arm. The other one trapped his right arm against the wall. It only seemed to make him smile. Adrenaline spiked up in Virgil’s blood, adrenaline that made grandmas lift cars and made the impossible possible.

His blue in his veins was fading fast, though, there was still enough juice for one last hail mary. A fistful of lightning gathered in his crushed left arm, setting the bandaged cast on fire. Virgil’s eyes burnt blue as he forced a spear of lightning directly into the Electrocutioner’s exposed face. The flash was blinding, there was a brief shout and he was dropped onto the ground, wheezing for air.

He didn’t have enough time to stop the punch coming for him. He heard Richie scream something before he collided violently with the TV. His left arm now was just a sack of broken bones and mincemeat, spikes of pain flashing through his entire body. A shadow loomed over his body as Virgil struggled to get up, only for a boot to slowly plant his face down on the floor.

“ Didn’t you learn the last time, kid? My suit insulates me from your electricity but wait. There’s more! “ The smoking form of the Electrocutioner shuddered with laughs as the diodes on his chest began to crackle ominously “With the new electrical relays I built into this costume, you just gave me enough juice to flatten this entire building.”

“ C’mon, at least, give me something….” Virgil attempted to summon another bolt in his hand out of desperate hope. Only the sputtering and humming of short-circuting sparks answered his call. “ You’ve gotta be kidding me…” The Electrocutioner pressed his foot down harder, his visor glowing a sickly green and his entire suit thrumming with energy.

“ And it looks like you’re all out of juice yourself.” The Electrocutioner signed in disappointment. “ I’d hope you’d taken my offer of generosity. Looks like Rob’s gonna deal with having a single child all to himself.”

No electricity. Left arm broken. Heck, everything was broken at the moment. Virgil could imagine it now. Fist pulled backwards, his head being caved in…..

Richie hopefully was covering his eyes right now.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang as if a live grenade had went off nearby. The pressure on his head lightened considerably. Virgil coughed through the smoke which had filled the room. The Electrocutioner had been flung onto the other side of the room, groaning in pain.

A light electronically distorted voice broke through the silence.

“ You know, they say imitation is the most sincerest form of flattery…”

Virgil could hear soft thuds through the smoke. A dark figure stepped through a hole in the wall . The haze swept away to reveal a mirror image of the Electrocutioner. It was less ramshackle and more profesionally stitched, the fresh yellow quilting bright like police tape. The gauntlets of the Electrocutioner were brutish meat-tenderizers compared to the clean and efficiently designed shock gauntlets of this identical copy.

No. Virgil smiled. It was the other way around. The new arrival held his shock gauntlets by the side like a cowboy holstering his pistols, waiting for the Electrocutioner to fire first.

Anyone could tell that the original Shocker, Herman Schultz, was angry.

“ But I prefer to see it as stealing in this instance….Larry.”




The moment he saw Virgil’s burnt left forearm, Herman fought the impulse to immediately blast Larry into smithereens. His former associate was now standing up, no worse for wear, thanks to the suit he’d stolen from Herman. The stolen suit was designed with similar principles to the one he was wearing now. Despite the severe destruction he’d done to the room, anyone under that suit would have felt as if they’d been slammed with a baseball bat in the gut. Larry had settled into a boxer’s gait, caution evident in every twitch that he made.

“Schultz. I thought you’d be dead by now.”

Herman narrowed his eyes. Buchinsky was as charming as ever.

“Larryberry.” Herman grunted in a dead-pan tone “ You should have called if you wanted to borrow my costume.”You could have asked to borrow my costume.”

Larry bristled in annoyance in response to the nickname. Herman’s index fingers travelled towards from the triggers of his vibro-smashers. Even though he’d been out of practise for quite a while, years of muscle memory and experience was the equalizer and guarantee that he wouldn’t get his ass kicked. Larry began prowling from side to side like a wolf, muscles taut, ready to maul Herman, whilst Herman stood calmly, waiting for Larry to make the first move.

He noticed soon that Larry was edging towards Virgil and Richie. Slowly. Deliberately. Testing whether or not he would react. Herman then placed himself between the pair and Larry, making a statement. Larry nodded to himself.

“ So, that’s why you’re here.” Larry spat in realisation. “ To protect the kid.”

“ The cops are on their way in a few minutes. ” Herman spoke warningly. “ So, give me back my suit. Walk away from all this. Whatever you’ve got going on right now, I’m sure we can get all the lads back together to sort this - “

He was suddenly interrupted by the shattering of glass. Larry’s fist lashed out to the left, leaving a spider-web of cracks on a laptop screen. One of the kids behind him, probably Virgil’s friend, croaked a noise that was a balance between screaming and crying. Herman stayed impassive as Larry approached him angrily.

“ You’re not the boss of the Squadron Supreme anymore, Schultz.” Larry stabbed one of his fingers in Herman’s chest several times. “ Scram before I do something you’ll regret.”

Herman raised an eyebrow underneath his mask whilst clenching the trigger-guard of a vibro-smasher with his right hand. Well, his bluff about the police had failed to work. He wrapped his fingers around Larry’s offending hand before pushing it slowly away from him. He was only a few inches taller than Larry, the latter being forced to look slightly upwards to meet Herman eye to eye.

“ No.” He replied simply.

“ No? No?!” Larry’s laughter was muffled. “ Is this all the great Shocker has to sa-”

Herman cursed as Larry swerved his head to the left at the last second to avoid a level one blast from his right vibro-smasher. The coruscating air continued forth past Larry’s head, turning the dresser behind him into a cloud of splinters. Larry caught his right arm in a tight grip, Herman at his mercy, as he raised his towards him like a scorpion’s tail.

“ You’d thought you would be getting me with a cheapshot like that?”

Herman smirked. “ Who told you that was the cheapshot?”

Right as he finished the end of his sentence, Herman grasped Larry’s back and pushed him towards himself. There was a yelp as Larry tried to let go of Herman. Too late. He’d been charging a level 5 blast in his left hand ever since he’d walked into the room. His right arm pulled Larry forth in an embrace whilst he swung a level five uppercut towards the man’s gut.

“ GET DOWN! ” Herman shouted out as he pressed down on the trigger.

The recoil slammed his brain into the back of his skull, his heels digging into the carpet . The windows simply fell apart into dust, the walls were peeling apart and the floor began to jiggle as if it was made of jello. Coruscating walls of pulsating air made Buchinsky into a living bullet, sending him crashing through the wall and hurtling into nowhere. Herman took his hand off the trigger, before the entire school building collasped.

The entire front half of Virgil’s dorm room had been completely demolished, brick and mortar dropping out of the structure. His right vibro-hammer was unbearably hot, the composite shelling visibly smoking. Letting off a level five that close would leave his ear drums ringing like gongs for three weeks straight.

Virgil and his friend jaw’s were agape, staring in a mixture of wonder and shock at the devastation he’d wreaked. Herman simply shrugged in response.

“ What? He was in the middle of a monologue.”

Herman walked towards the hole, a little wobbly in his step. An orchestra of car alarms greeted him, chunks of the concrete wall having landed on them. He could make out Larry’s spread-eagled body on one of the car hoods several meters away. He made a strangled noise in his throat before resigning to a facepalm. His car hood to be more exact. Hopefully, his insurance would cover the costs of repair….

“ So…” Virgil had slowly walked up beside him. “ Is he….uh…..”

“ Dead?” Herman finished Virgil’s sentence. “ No. Though, hopefully, he’s going to be taking a long premium vacation in the hospital right now…..”

Larry suddenly rolled off the wreckage and onto the pavement, Herman making out. That was surprising to say the least. A Level 5 was the equivalent of getting run over by a freight train in terms of energy. Then again, perhaps Larry wasn’t as an amateur tinkerer as he thought he was originally…….

“ Damn, he’s still breathing….” Herman tightened his right vibro-hammer as he prepared to fire another blast at Larry. “ Just one more should do it…..”

“ Hold on a second.” Virgil grabbed the crook of his elbow, stopping him much to his annoyance. “ You can’t just blast him while he’s down on the ground! ”

“ Kid, it’s called caution. The school fire-bell began ringing amidst the chaos. “ That’s your signal to go.”

“ At least, let me help. You need backup - “

“ You’ve already done enough. If you couldn’t beat him with your powers, now, you couldn’t now.


“ I don’t have my powers anymore.”

“ All the more to get the hell away from here, kid.”

“ I’m supposed to help! I’m supposed to help everyone.”

Dammit, he wasn’t a student counseler. Why was every vigilante in the world born with a hero complex? Herman turned back towards Virgil and leaned down, pressing a button located on the visor of his mask to depolarise it. His hand firmly gripped Virgil’s shoulder as Virgil looked at him for support.

“ Kid, sometimes, the best thing you can do is to help yourself before helping others. If you don’t know how to do that, well….”

The floor beneath Herman suddenly crumbled as an armoured fist wrapped around Herman’s leg. He could only manage a quick “ GO!” towards Virgil before he disappeared in a puff of wood and concrete. He was hanging upside down for a short-while by his leg before he was rammed in the jaw by a skull-powdering blow. Half of his mask was torn off by the punch, his visor sputtering as damage reports lighted up on what remained of it.

Larry looked as if he’d been tortured with a cheese grater. The center of his suit was scoured away by the blast, several splotchy bruises visible through the seams. On the ground, hydraulic fluid dripped in place of blood. One single eye through his cracked visor, bloodshot blue, gleefully stared at him for several seconds, pondering just what to do.

He almost didn’t expect the kick coming.

“ I’ve been dreaming of this ever since you left the Squadron Supreme, Schultz! “

Herman dearly wished someone could shut Larry up before a strike to his head shut his thoughts up.

“ Behind all your professionalism and your code of honour is just a scared little man who couldn’t bear me suffering no consequences. A man who couldn’t move on with the death of just one child. ”

His attempt to block the next punch failed as a thousand pound of force smashed his right vibro-hammer apart, bending the bone behind it.

“ I’m about to teach you the price of heroism, Herman.”

Herman stumbled backwards, putting distance between himself and Larry to charge up another blast. This time, a Level 3. Larry simply ducked under his blow and threw a swift jab that left Herman’s lungs aching for air.

“ And after I’m done finishing you off and the Kilowatt Kid, I’ll become the only Shocker.”

Okay. Being a punching bag wasn’t working so well. Herman tried another strategy. Larry dodged on instinct but Herman wasn’t aiming for him. Instead, he pointed down towards the floor and sprayed a wide cone of vibrating air. A Level One would only give a bloody nose but it could still wreak merry hell on standing structures. The consistency fo the floor turned into mud. Herman watched as Larry’s foot sunk into it like quicksand, coming to a halt. Herman detached his broken vibro-hammer as Larry wriggled in place like a trapped worm, eventually resorting to pounding the floor with his fists in order to release himself.

“ I could say the same thing about you. Behind all of that talk is the same two-bit thug I met seven years ago and a person who was afraid of not being able to kill someone.”

Herman then made a ‘come over here’ gesture with his one hand.

“ Now, come on. I’ve got an identity theft case to settle and it starts with you being in cuffs.”




Useless. That was how Virgil currently felt as he stood on the football field along with the rest of the school faculty. Principal Forrester was currently shouting through a loudspeaker false assurances that it was just a normal school fire, despite the fact you could hear the sounds of a miniature earthquake occuring on campus. The school nurse was busy fussing over various students who had received cuts and scrapes from the two Shocker’s brawl. The burn ointment didn’t do anything to soothe Virgil’s growing feeling of helplessness.

“ You’re just going to let Mr Schumer fight the guy who broke your arm?”

“ Mr Schultz. ” Virgil corrected. “ And what am I supposed to do, Richie? My left arm’s broken and fried. The Electrocutioner’s beaten me once already. Worst of all, I’ve only got enough juice within me to power a toaster. I’m just sitting here by the sidelines, just like you are - “

Virgil cuts himself off, looking regretfully at Richie. “ Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to get upset. It’s just….” He takes his pair of cracked yellow goggles out of his pocket and stares at it. “ I’m nothing without my powers.”

Richie only snorts in response. A tight smirk crosses his face, as if he finds Virgil’s excuse to be laughable.

“ Where’s the Virgil that went off on his own to chase after the Shocker, even though, he knew he had a drip of power left? Where’s the Static that defended Dakota City for one week from the Bang Baby Crisis whilst the cops were struggling without complaint?” Richie scratches the side of his neck, revealing a pale scar. “ Where’s my friend who told me that people depended on him?”

“ It’s not your powers that make you Static, Virgil. It’s what you decided to do with them that makes you Static.”

“ Great pep talk, but what exactly am I supposed to do? Just waltz to the Electrocutioner and hope I get lucky.” Virigl threw up his hands in defeat. “ The guy just absorbs my electricity like a sponge and it only powers him - “

Virgil froze mid-sentence. A flurry of emotions went through his face, beginning from confusion, doubt and then to realization. He then slowly stood up, brushing the grass off his pants, checking to make sure the teachers weren’t paying attention. They were all currently taking attendance, every student arranged in a loose crowd of unorganized lines.

“ Where are you going?” whispered Richie.

“ To test a theory.”

He ran off without a word, sneaking through the crowd. If Buchinsky’s armour functioned by absorbing his electricity and repurposing it, then, surely, he could copy it. Virgil ran through the inner facilities of the school campus, ignoring the fact that it looked like a disaster zone. Dust shook off the ceiling as the Shocker and the Electrocutioner continued to duke it out in Hemingway High. Though, there was a silver lining to all of it. At least, the school would finally have a good excuse to ask the city council for a bigger budget.

A few minutes of desperately trying not to get crushed by crumbling walls and running through school corridors, Virgil found himself face to face with the school’s generator. The janitor was nowhere to be found, everyone currently outside on the school field. He ignored the ‘Danger’ Sign marked in bright cherry red as he swung open the front panel. Exposed wires greeted him, channeling enough electricity to stop a person’s heartbeat.

Here’s hoping I don’t electrocute myself…….

Virgil immedietely regretted his decision the moment he touched the wires. The voltage bucked in his hands like a slippery eel. His hands flew back, the smell of burnt skin filling the air. The numbness in his arms and head dissipated. His tongue felt like dried cardboard.

What was he doing wrong? All he had to do was touch it right? Maybe, he needed to look at the situation from a different perspective…...

Virgil closed his eyes, darkness creeping around the edges of his vision as he parted the curtains of reality in favour of a world of glowing mazes. Networks of neon light coursed and connected through each other like ant tunnels, all leading towards a single node that shone like a miniature star.

He concentrated, trying to direct the flow of electricity towards his own body. It was an abstract tug-of-war. Eventually, tributaries of electricity began to split and snake towards him.

Only a trickle. Barely enough. Frustration welled up inside him. He needed more. He reached out towards the node and pulled harder. Offering it new paths of less resistance to flow into his body.

An ocean of electricity threatened to drowned him. No, it wasn’t pain. It was the sensation of something never felt before. He stopped struggling and began accepting it, thousands of volts coursing through the entire length of his body.

It was overwhelming at first. Every cell, every molecule was paralysed by the power, lightning racing up and down his body. His right arm slowly stitched back together, electricity fusing his bones back and removing his burns like a bad memory. His gritted tight expression slowly transformed into one of a gleeful grin, savouring the feeling. Feeling the thunder throbbing, thrumming, bouncing, flowing, roaring, charging up his body.

The first thing Virgil woke up to was darkness. Inhaling in and out, Virgil slowly stood up, having felt like he’d gone through the wringer. His heart hammered the beats of an alarm clock on the fritz. Trying to find his way out of the basement without a source of light was annoying. The school’s backup generator would only kick in after a few minutes after all. As if on instinct, his palms lighted up, filling the dark room with a eerie blue glow. Faster than before. Jagged arcs of lightning wreathed around both of his arms, baying for release.

The yellow googles snapped themselves on his head comfortingly with a smile.

He felt like himself again.




Getting thrown through a window was not Herman’s idyllic picture of a weekday afternoon.

Herman dived out of the way as Larry made a crater where his head would have been. Thumb already on the trigger, Herman struck out at the Electrocutioner’s legs with a Level 2. Larry fell into a kneeling position, catching himself at the last moment. Herman tried to follow it up with another blast only for his vibro-hammers to click dry. Out of batteries, already? Pressing down his desire to curse out loud, Herman ran into the bowels of the car park, hiding behind a yellow Ford.

“ The great Shocker quivering in his boots? I’d never thought I’d see the day.”

Herman felt as if he was in the middle of a horror movie now. Larry was the slasher killer wielding two hydraulic tenderisers on his fists and he was an idiot wearing a yellow quilted leotard He’d badly underestimated how crafty Larry had become since his days in the Squadron Supreme. Herman crouched down further to avoid Larry noticing him, tip-toeing behind a van.

“ You know what the sad thing is. Unlike the boy, no one will cry or mourn for you, Schultz. ” Larry strolled through the car park, rapping his fist against every car door he passed by “ Look on the bright-side. I’m the one who’ll carry on your legacy….”

A sprite can then beaned Larry on the head with a loud “ THOK”. Larry paused his search.

“ Who the hell did that - “

A garbage bin followed after, overflowing with Tuesday’s cafeteria enchilada special, colliding with his left shoulder.

“ Seriously, stop that - “

Several school lockers pelted against his back, knocking him onto his face.

“ I swear to - “

Something white which Herman swore was a urinal crashed directly into his skull.

“ That’s it! I’m - ”

A two-seater car knocked Larry off his feet, its momentum sending him cruising right into a street-light. The impact shook the pole, before it toppled to the ground like a felled tree. Larry was no where to be seen, currently crushed underneath the vehicle.

Herman felt the hairs tingle on his back as the cars around him began to rumble. Virgil landed next to him, garbed in an oversized blue parka and his signature yellow googles which had garnered media attention of Dakota’s local news channels. He was levitating off the ground on a garbage can lid. Virgil gave a friendly wave towards Herman.

“ Hey.”

Herman could only wave back.

“ Hey,” He then pointed towards Virgil’s entire body which was currently surrounded in an aura of electricity. “ So, since when was that a thing…”

“ Spur of the moment.” Virgil replied. “ Besides, I have a score to settle with punch happy over there…”

The loud of metal ripping apart caught both of their attention as they turned their heads towards the wreck. One of the car doors has launched off its hinges by a yellow fist. The Electrocutioner crawled out, looking positively enraged. His attention shifted from Herman towards Virgil.

“ Good. I was almost afraid this wasn’t going to be a challenge. “

“ You don’t need to do this alone.” There’s an edge of worry in Herman’s words. He ignores the stabbing pain in his chest.

Herman sees the look of trepeditation on Virgil’s face, his left hand unconciously nearing towards his right arm. It then dissapears in lieu of an enthusiastic confidence. “ You can rest now, Mr Schultz. I’m gonna take this fool to school.”

Virgil jumps off his board which disobeys the laws of gravity for a few more seconds before submitting to it. Herman watches Virgil approach towards Herman, thunder and lightning coalescing in his wake.

“ You broke into my room. You tied up Richie. You stole from my stash of snacks.”

Herman interrupted snarkily.

“ I think you’re forgetting that he’s been trying to kill you.”

“ Despite everything that you’ve done to me last week, I’m gonna give you one chance to stand down before I make you stand down.” Virgil stamped his foot down to finish his sentence and Herman swears that he can hear a thunderclap in the cloudless sky.

Herman wonders what thoughts are rolling through Larry’s head in that moment. Though, he knows what his answer will always be. Surrender and the Electrocutioner are like oil and water. Larry smacks the side of an expensive sports car as his reply, sending it skidding towards Virgil at breakneck speeds. Virgil simply lifted his hands and one thousand pounds of steel stop dead in an instant, puppetered by strings of electricity that emanate from Virgil’s fist.

“ And they say I’m a bad listener in class.”

Rebar begins uprooting itself out of the concrete, Virgil tossing them like a hail of arrows. Larry attempts to dodge them by hiding behind a car but with a twist of his wrist, they re-direct mid-flight, homing towards Larry. Eventually, a piece of rebar wraps itself around both of Larry’s legs. And then, his hands. And then, his elbows. And then, his chest. By the time Virgil is finished, Larry is wriggling like a worm in salt. The servos in his suit whine as the rusty anchors stretch and slowly yield under his strength. It’s just enough time for Virgil to get in front of him, radiating a storm’s worth of lightning that leaves burn marks in the pavement.

“ Here’s a little science lesson for you. If you have enough charge….” Virgil’s voice was a reverberating chorus from the sheer volume of electricity flowing through him. “ Anything can become a conductor!”

Virgil seemingly slaps both of his palms onto Larry’s chest. Cars begin bouncing up and down near the proximity of the two as Herman sees what can only be described as a thunderstorm up close. The odour of ozone is thick in the air, electiricty splitting air and water apart whilst the branches of lightning forking out of Virgil’s body lick his surroundings, leaving scorch scars. His eyes begin to hurt at the intense light that surrounds the both of them, their bodies becoming mere silohuettes.

The light then stops shining.

Suddenly, the electricity stops. Herman waves away the smoke only to see Virgil standing over the body of Larry Buchinsky. His arms sag to the side in exhaustion. Herman catches him by the shoulders before Virgil collapses. They’re not out of the woods yet. Virgil huffs in fatigue before shooting a smile of thanks to Herman.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that the Electrocutioner is toast. He remains motionless on the ground as both Virgil and Herman stand over him. The hydraulic sub-systems in his suit are malfunctioning, orange liquid spewing out and forming a puddle. The electrical relays mounted on his shoulders are fried and cooked, the heavy scent of melted copper wiring present. On the front of Larry’s charred suit is a large black blotch with even two darker handprints on it. Larry’s expression is one of resigned fury as Virgil ties a piece of lead piping around both of his arms like shoelaces.

“ All you had to do was agree to my plans and Dakota would have been saved. Now? You’re only prolonging its death. You call yourself a hero?” Buchinsky spat out “ You’re a glorified mall cop at best. Corruption, poverty and homelessness? You can’t beat those things with a punch.”

Virgil’s face is indescipherable, wrapping a piece of metal around Buchinsky’s legs.

“ I’m just the beginning, Virgil. Pretty soon, you’ll be swarmed in work and responsibility. I’d take a prison cell over what you have to face in the future. Trust me, Herman. He’ll end up leaving this city just like Black Lightning - “

A band of metal clamped itself around Larry’s mouth, gagging him instantly. Virgil crouched downwards towards him with a tired yet determined stare.

“ Maybe, you’re right about how I’ve been a hero. Maybe, you’re right about how there’s more problems to this city than mad Bang Babies gone loose. I sure ain’t Black Lightning, though. As long as I am around, Dakota City will always be under my protection. ”

Once Virgil finished his last sentence, the life had gone out of his eyes and Larry sunk into the doldrums of being utterly defeated. Virgil stepped back and surveyed the damaged car park and the ruined campus, fire alarm ringing overhead. Herman can hear the wailing of emergency services coming over the bend. Meanwhile, Virgil rummages in his pockets for a moment and takes out a packet of bubblegum.After taking a gander on the undersides of high school tables for a year, Herman made it clear that there would be a no gum policy in his classroom.

Virgil snapped open the crinkled packet and offered a stick to him.

“ Want a piece? It’s blueberry.”

Herman raised his hand out and accepted it.
I am really trying to work on that post whilst trying to deal with moving. Regardless, I promise that I’ll have a post out ASAP.
I swear to god, this next post is going to be like the longest post I've ever done.
- Marvel Mondays
- Ted Kord Tuesdays
- Wonder Woman Wednesdays
- Thor and the Guardians Thursday
- Flash Fridays
- Spider Man Saturdays
- Static Sundays




If there’s one word I hate the most in the English dictionary, it’s step-father.

Robert Hawkins is my real father. Black Lightning ain’t.

Robert Hawkins shelters the poor, the homeless, people who don’t have power from the people who have all the power in the world. He’s the operator of the Freeman Community Center. Robert Hawkins taught me how to bicycle down a hill. Robert Hawkins took me out for hot dogs whenever I aced my test. Robert Hawkins taught me what it means to be a man.

Black Lightning? Black Lightning left me behind when I needed a father.

I shot my first three pointer without him. I got my powers without him by my side. I survived the Big Bang without him. I lost my mother without him. I had 11 good birthdays without him. He's a stranger to me like he is to everyone else in this town. It doesn't matter that both of us have the same blood.

The only thing that he did was to leave behind a legacy for me to live up to.

If he ever comes back to Dakota again…..

Man, that's a good joke.





time: 13:05, Saturday

place: sadler's shack, dakota city

The two of them pushed, half-laughing and half-stumbling, through the door of Sadler’s Shack, bell ringing to introduce their entry in the bustling road diner.

“ - So, that’s how Sharon’s two pet goldfish went missing?!” Virgil’s dad gaped “ ‘Cause you believed that stupid fish movie I watched with when you were seven years old?”

“ Well -” Virgil muttered, embarrassed “ All drains lead back to the ocean. Right?”. That got a chuckle out of Virgil’s dad as he slapped the back of his son, shaking his head in disbelief.

Damn, he’d missed talking with Dad. Meandering small-talk that dug up lost secrets fossilized in memory. The original topic of their conversation had shifted so far off course like a game of chinese whispers. One moment, they were talking about how the Freeman center was holding yet another charity drive and the next, it had strayed off to a talk about TV shows and car accidents.
“ Isn’t your friend supposed to be here?” Virgil scratched his head as he searched through the restaurant.

His dad signed, checking the time on his wristwatch. “ He was. Maybe, he’s caught a bad jam downtow-”

“ Table for two?”

They were both interrupted by a black-haired waiter, lips pressed tight with a pencil behind her right ear and clearly on the verge of impatience. Virgil’s dad shook his head and explained. “ Table for 3.” The waiter gave a silent nod before leading the both of them to an empty table.

Virgil’s mom once said that a restaurant was a glimpse into the soul of the city and Sadler’s Shack was no different.. Hissing oil and the smell of smoked sausage and hash on the griddle was thick and noxious enough to churn his stomach. Sadler’s Shack wasn’t just a simple cul-de-sac restaurant. Sadler’s Shack was Dakota history. Everyone from outer Utopia Park to Prospect Hills knew about Sadler’s Shack and your father’s father probably ate there when they were your age. The faded brick walls, seemingly crumbled but not collapsed, were lined with scores and rows of pictures, some black and white and others colored. There was one picture, though, which everyone was crowded over like it was the Mona Lisa. Virgil reflexively flinched away from a picture that he’d seen so many times during his childhood when his mother had brought him. After all, who wouldn’t want to take a picture with his former father?

Their table was situated next to an open window.

“ Ah, Larry, Larry, Larry!” Virgil could hear the rapping of fists together and the slapping of arms against backs. “ Nice to see you out of your office once in a while.”

Larry. Virgil’s brow furrowed in anxiety. Where had he heard that name before?

“Virgil - Oh, for god’s sake, put that menu down!”

A hand pried his attention away from a waffle dish that looked downright delicious towards Dad's friend. First impressions were that the man looked out of town. Like he'd just recently settled in. He could tell that from the shifting eyes of suspicion and the way his neck was tense at the muscles. His thick ridged skull bragged a genetic history of being a punching-bag with a boxer's physique, top-heavy with bear-like arms. He was wearing a thick linen jacket and his sandy head was clean-shaven to the roots. There was a cough from his Dad as he gestured towards Static. With a roll of his eyes, Virgil lifted his left arm awkwardly up lazily for a handshake, crossing his left hand over his bandaged cast.

“ I would like to introduce you to Larry Buchinsky. He’s in charge of our donations team for the Freeman Community Center and this week’s charity drive manager.”

“ Don’t be so formal, Rob. It's just Larry.” Virgil could barely make out Larry's words through his thick British accent " You must be Virgil. Your dad's told me a lot about you over work these past months."

A part of Virgil’s brain was screaming at him, grasping him by the shoulders, telling himself that something was up. What was it that Herman had told him? It was on the tip of his tongue. Something that started with E. His mind began returning back to that conversation the closer both of their hands approached together.

Larry Buchinsky. Went by the name of Electrocutioner.

And

Buchinsky goes straight for the kid like a coiled cobra

it just-

I never took up the mask again

Hit him.

“ You’re looking a little pale there, son.” Larry Buchinsky, the Electrocutioner, gave him a worried frown. “ Is a handshake too much to ask for around these parts? ”

Crap. Was his hand really shaking that much? The chewing and crunching of toast and waffles around him reminded him of that first,fateful encounter when he broke his right arm, twitches of phantom pain lancing up from his elbow to his shoulder. The whole entire world was spinning around him now as he tried not to retch at the sheer cosmic irony of the situation. His heart began to thud faster as Virgil’s hand grasped Buchinsky’s dinner-plate sized one, large enough to crush his bones into dust and break him a-

Electricity bled from his trembling fingers as Virgil shook Buchinsky’s hand. Not enough to knock him out but not enough to be painless. Larry’s hand recoiled back as if a bee had stung him, nursing it. The former criminal blinked for a moment, his eyes narrowing momentarily in suspicion before shrugging and smiling at his father.

“You didn’t tell me your son was a prankster, Rob.”

“ He isn’t.” Virgil’s dad slowly turned to glare at him. “ You didn’t pick up anything bad in Hemingway, did you now, Virgil?”

“ No, no! Just must have been...uh....some static. " said Virgil, who was currently wishing that he'd never agreed to the coffee date in the first place. If Ms Barnes hadn't rescheduled the English test today, he would have had an acceptable excuse. However, having a video-game binge with Richie on the fresh copies of Street Sluggers wasn't going to convince his Dad.

The explanation wasn't good enough for his dad but to his relief, it was good enough for Buchinsky. Virgil breathed out as Buchinsky chuckled, seeing it nothing more as a practical joke. He composed himself, trying to bury his fear underneath a mountain of apathy. ALl he had to do was to keep it together for the next thirty minutes. Easy enough. Besides, Buchinsky didn't suspect anything at all. His calm exterior started to break the moment Buchinsky sat right in front of him, eye to eye. Virgil's breath hitched as Buchinsky asked him a question.

" So, Virgil, how's school? I heard you study at Hemingway."

"Yeahit'salright.School'sfoodgoodandwehavedrillsevery" Virgil blurted out before slowing down into an intelligible pace. His cheeks reddened as both adults raised their eyebrows at him " You know, it's an okay place. Nothing out of the ordinary."

" Nothing out of the ordinary." Buchinsky repeated before muttering cynically. " Nothing's been ordinary ever since the Big Bang happened. Our community center's been more flooded than ever with the homeless and the poor since last month. Our kitchen's ran out of soup stock trying to feed our 550 residents. 550, can you imagine that, Rob?"

" 550 less off the streets." Virgil's dad clasped Buchinsky's shouler supportively. " Be more optimistic, Larry. By the way you've been talking off, our next donation should secure us for a long time."

" Pah, donations." Larry flipped through the menu halfheartedly. " They can barely keep us afloat for more than a week. Everyday, it just seems like the number of more and more people in our shelter keep rising. Sometimes, I wonder how you can keep finding new jobs for them, Rob."

" Everyone always has a choice in Dakota City, Larry. Now, how's about we stop talking about work? It's your first time meeting my son after all."

" Now, that you've said it....." Larry closed the menu as he passed it slowly back to Virgil’s dad, one eye levelled on Virgil " Are you sure that I've haven't seen him before? In your house maybe or somewhere..."

" No, this is your first time." Virgil's dad leaned over to wave for a waiter. " I'll try and see if I can get a waiter that’s not busy in this place..."

The fluorescent lights began to flicker overhead as a bead of sweat rolled down Virgil's forehead. Damn, his powers just had to start malfunctioning now. Larry's eyes trailed upwards towards the ceiling. Virgil closed his eyes as he began shutting off the flow of electricity in a fit of panic, the lights returning back to normal. He signed before opening them right up to the sight of Larry’s granite-like gaze settling on him. His two hands were locked together in a loose hold, the pads of his fingers rubbing his knuckles like a grindstone, waiting for Virgil to do something. Virgil pretended to not notice that Larry was staring at him, staring boredly outside the window whilst internally panicking in his mind.

The sound of a baby wailing and a mother hushing her child broke the tension. The glare dissolved from Larry’s face as it was immediately replaced by a crinkled smile of a family friend.

“ So, Virgil. You play any sports?”

“ I can’t really shoot any hoops since I...well…” Virgil shifted his bandaged right arm as if its existence was explanation enough.

“ First time breaking it?” Larry asked dryly whilst Virgil gaped in shock. “ Don’t look so surprised. Your dad was yammering on all about it on the phone to me yesterday.”

“ Yammering?!” Virgil’s dad exclaimed, looking at Larry testily “ When the school called me on Thursday, I thought of the worst. Ever since Mary….” He caught himself, staring at Virgil with regret before shaking his head. “ Well, I thought Virgil had been caught in a fight or worse.”

“ Relax. I’m sure it was a shocker to us all.” Larry paused lightly on the last sentence, as he swiveled his head towards Virgil and waited for his reaction. “ Besides, if anything happens in this town, Static will be there to save the day.”

Virgil froze, gripping the menu tightly whilst forcing the excess static building up in his body to the heel of his shoe, causing it to heat up uncomfortably.

“ Hmph.” His dad snorted “ If only he could save us from the city council’s bureaucracy…”

“ Can I get you boys anything?”

The same waiter that had greeted them in front was tapping her notepad insistently. Larry piped up first, grinning at the waiter.

“ I would like some hash and your Lightning Latke special, please.”

The ceiling lights flickered twice again.




“ Crap, crap, crap, c’mon, just a few more….” Virgil was panting by the time he'd reached his dorm room, skidding by his heels on the mopped floor. Why did the elevator have to break down today? He pushed the door open and locked it in a hurry, pressing his head against it before turning around. " Richie, there's something that I have to tell...."

Virgil's voice trailed off in horror, squeaking at the sight of what he saw. Richie was knocked out and duct-taped against the backrest of a wheeled stool, his arms and legs locked to the sides with his head resting on his chin, dried drool on his shoulder. Besides him was the lounging form of Larry Buchinsky who was currently dressed up in his costume without the mask and helping himself to a bag of potato chips.

" Don't stand there gawking like an idiot." said Larry. " Sit down. You and I have some business to discuss, Virgil. Or should I say..."

Larry kicked open the closet to reveal his signature blue jacketed costume.

"...Static."

Hey, if someone's doing the Suicide Squad in the future, put this guy on the squad.




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