[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/RkFZD7E.jpg?1[/img][/center] [i]If you ever want the title of my student autobiography, I guess it would be like this: How I spent my Junior Year As a Crime-Fighting Vigilante. By Virgil Ovid Hawkins. The synopsis of my biography? I can sum it up in one glorious two-syllable word. Static. I am Static. I’ve been called the Kilowatt Kid, Bang Baby and definitely not Lightning Junior. I’ve been operating as the sole guardian of Dakota City for a month and a half. Some days, it feels like I’m carrying the entire weight of the city on my shoulders, but they never said that being a superhero would be easy. I am Static. Whatever you think about me, I’ve heard it already from someone else on the papers or the air. Public menace, freak, delinquent, guardian. All I can say is: Go ahead. Try. You can lecture me, patronise me, reprimand me. Tell me that something’s better. I am Static. I chose to be Static. In Dakota City, everyone always has a choice. ‘Cause at the end of the day, I always know that it’s been my choice to put the mask back on. No one can take that choice away from me. I am Static. [/i] [hr] [b]location: hemingway high school time: 12:30 PM [/b] “ NEXT!” Brown sludge that could be barely even called grits plopped with a disappointing splat onto Virgil’s lunchtray. He squirmed his nose at the smell, wrestling control of his stomach. Budget cuts weren’t an anomaly in Hemingway High. They were school policy. Oh, there’d been whisperings and murmurs about increased school funding, allocating more funds towards the education budget but it’d all been a load of hot air blown over nothing. Virgil shuffled on forwards, cutting through the crowd of cliques and hungry students as he searched for a table that he wasn’t going to get rejected from. “ Hey, V-Man! What’s up?,” A hand came down on Virgil’s shoulder from behind. His skin had bristled from the touch, weeks of back-alley patrols and crime-fighting wounding him up like a coiled spring. Static electricity bled off his jacket and grounded itself in the cold ceramic tiling. Virgil glanced back over his shoulder and couldn’t hold back the laughter that threatened to overtake him. A lanky blonde wearing a cheap dollar-store ‘WONDER WOMAN’ hoodie and a frayed beanie stared back at him. Richie Stone, his room-mate and current best friend of the century, grinned a full-toothed smile, easy-going, a smile that melted the tension out of him. Replying back with another grin, there was a rapping of knuckles and a bumping of fists before they stumbled in a mixture of conversation and gossip towards a secluded spot in the left wing of the cafeteria. The topics of the conversation ranged from simplistic to downright puerile. Girls, homework, parents, universities, sport teams, viral fads. Yet, Virgil discovered how much he’d missed talking with Richie, the feeling of being an ordinary teen again with no worries about going on his regular patrols or hounding the police radios for any emergencies. For now, he could choose to be Virgil Hawkins. Even though Static was always trailing behind him like a shadow. “ So, did anything interesting over the mid-term break? ” Richie stared at Virgil, waiting for a reply, prodding at his cafeteria food with his spoon. Virgil shrugged, edging his chair closer to the table “ Oh, just a little bit of community service.” He dug his spoon into the cafeteria food, glumly swallowing it piece by piece. “ Did your dad force you to do it? Your dad’s been looking around for volunteers all break. I’ve still even got the pamphlet - “ Richie stopped as Virgil gave him the raised eyebrow. Virgil was half-tempted to shock his best friend for that comment. Freeman Community Center was currently overpopulated and underfunded from the influx of homeless after they were all forcibly moved out during the creation of the Paris Island Exclusion Zone. Add to the fact that charities were non-profit organisations by design and…..well……the topic of finance had become a banned dinner conversation topic at his household the last time he’d been there for break. “ It’s known as voluntary for a reason, Richie.” “ Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” Richie stayed silent for a while before piping back up. “ Everyone’s been getting antsy ever since the Big Bang last month. Robberies, muggings, assaults…..Things in Dakota weren’t sunshine and rainbows before the Bang but now? Have you heard about what happened to Mr Schultz last week? ” Virgil nodded silently. Mr Schultz had been one of his favourite teachers ever since he’d arrived in Hemingway High for his junior year. He made physics a bearable subject for the entire class and even managed to make the jocks and layabouts listen to his lectures once in a while. To see the once bright-faced teacher blubbering and sombre-faced in the hallways after the Big Bang was just downright depressing. “ Anyway, I’ve got afternoon Calculus with Mr Bartleby after lunch break. Several of the seniors said to watch out for him. They call him the Sink.” Richie audibly shuddered in disgust at the end of the sentence. Virgil sympathized with him. After all, who could stomach one and a half hours of chalkboard equations and proofs without going insane? “ Hopefully, this half-term won’t be so boring as the last one,” Richie groaned. “ I swear, the days are just getting longer and longer in this high-school. I’m telling you, V. After junior year, it’ll be smooth sailing to graduation and freedom.” Virgil stared downwards at his fork, an errant spark of white electricity dancing off the prongs for a brief second as he unconsciously flexed his power. “ We’ll see.” [hr] [b]location: dakota city time: 3:40 PM [/b] “ WOOOOOOOO HOOOOOO!” Virgil’s lungs ached as he soared through the skies, one hand grasping the edge of his manhole as he defied gravity, bobbing and weaving through the clouds. Electromagnetic energy leaked from the bottom like a faucet, propelling him to greater speeds and greater heights. It was one of the few perks of having his abilities. Virgil pushed forward, swerving underneath a bypass at breakneck speeds, the world around him turning into a blur. He was soon on a collision course with a brick-wall. No problem. Virgil closed his eyes, concentrating to reverse the polarity of the electrons in the manhole. Instead of crashing straight ahead, Virgil began to surf on top of the walls of the building, an electrical corona beginning to build up at the bottom of his makeshift surfboard. Bending the laws of gravity to his will with his slow ascent, Virgil shut off the flow of electrons into his metallic makeshift vehicle, his travel coming to a halt as he looked over Dakota City from atop the apartment building. Viewing Dakota City from 150 feet in the air on a manhole was a completely different experience from walking about on the ground with your own two feet. Virgil decided at this moment that Dakota City took issue with the concept of summer. Summer should bring to mind sunny skies, baking concrete sidewalks and busted open water mains with kids frolicking in the spray. He sailed over a maze of air ventilation units, skidding on top by the edge of his surfboard just to see the gapening gyre of the Black Hole in the distance. Or rather what’s left of Paris Island. The Big Bang had decimated what was once an idyllic neighborhood borough into a veritable junkyard. Some people used to joke about it being the Black Hole because of how much money City Council poured into funding the fence around it. Now? It was just a symbol of how much the Big Bang had splintered Dakota apart right now. Staring at Paris Island pulled him back into a chasm of memories, of feeling lightning flow through his veins for the very first time, of holding a gun, of holding someone’s life by the mere pull of a trigger……. He shook his head, old dandruff falling from his dreadlocks. The past was the past. In Dakota City, the past was an eternal land that festered on Paris Island. Here, in Westwood, though, there were new futures to be had. Virgil breathed as he flopped backwards onto the gravel roof, staring upwards at the cloudless sky. He needed some action to take his mind off things. He closed his eyes and quietened his mind. His senses shifted from the mundane spectacle of sound, touch, smell and taste to an invisible maze of phantoms. It was like viewing the skeleton of a city. Radio waves, high frequency wi-fi, broadcast signals, underground power lines……...His electromagnetic senses sorted and pushed through the myriad of electronic waves like a explorer cutting through the thicket of a jungle. An familiar radio signal niggled the back of his mind. his electromagnetic senses honing onto it like he had many times over the last month. He’d recognised the specific frequency and wavelength of the signals that he’d grown all too familiar with over the last few months. The Dakota PD’s radio was constantly abuzz with activity, glowing like a Christmas tree in the electromagnetic highways that he saw through his enhanced senses. [i]“ All officers, be advised, we have a unconfirmed 211 in progress in a 7-11 near Helm Street. Requesting backup immediately.” [/i] A 7-11? Helm Street was two blocks away from his current location. Virgil walked near the edge and hopped off, the manhole following him like a eager pet as it clung to the heels of his boots. He rode through the downtown neighborhoods of Westwood, a few stragglers and early afternoon commuters from Sadler making their way down towards their homes. A public bus rolled on through, smoke chugging out from its overworked engines. Some passengers stared at him like he was a tourist attraction, phones being taken out of pockets like a habit and eyes glued to the windows. Even a month after the Big Bang and the worldwide existence of superheroes, metahumans were a new addition to the composition of Dakota City. Virgil moved throughout the streets, accelerating as the build-up of electrical energy formed a corona around his surfboard. Lightning rumbled and thunder followed, the power poles vibrating and trash cans jostling with his very passing. He soon arrived at the scene, closing the flow of voltage to slow down his velocity and parking down his manhole in a nearby alleyway. The front of the convenience store looked as if a bomb had gone off. What was once a glass pane had been shattered into a million tiny fragments that had been scattered all over the sidewalk and the street. Virgil tightened his goggles, fist closed in tension, as he crept closer to get a better look at what exactly was happening. His first reaction was that the guy had gone to Supervillain Fashion Central and then, decided to buy at the local thrift shop to create some weird amalgam of backstreet alley hobo and high-tech criminal. The criminal looked as if he was wearing some sort of protective yellow patch-work suit that covered his entire body from head to toe, a visored mask included. The overall pattern reminded Virgil of a pineapple. The costume would have looked downright goofy if it weren’t for the menacing gauntlets that each encased his hands and forearms. A series of vacuum tubes and electrical wires were inlaid into the mechanisms of the gauntlet which ran out into the back of the suit. The overall apparel was complimented by a dollar-store hoodie that had several holes in the fabric. The costumed burglar was currently standing over the unconscious, bruised body of the shopkeeper and was emptying the contents of the cash register into a sports bag. Virgil coughed loudly, getting the burglar’s attention as he turned around to face him. There was something odd about the guy. There was no hostile movement or any sign of surprise in his body. In fact, it was quite the opposite of what Virgil expected. Relaxed. Calm. Collected. The guy didn’t even point his gauntlets at him. Rather, it looked as if the burglar had been expecting him. “ Nice quilt. I’ve never really met a supervillain before that’s so enthused into the art of knitting.“ Virgil’s hands began glowing with sparkling lightning as he made his slow approach towards the burglar. No response yet. “ Look. Maybe you’re new in town but I’ve fried bigger fish than a upstart robber with some fancy tech. So, give up before I do some - ” “ Alright. Take me in. I give up.” The robber dropped the sports bag on the ground with a thud and raised his hands up, his words slightly muffled by the mask on his face. Virgil blinked. Huh. Okay, this day was turning out to be unusual. He kept his hands up in defense, steeling himself for any potential attack from the robber. The robber kept his hands up in the air, not moving or twitching a single muscle. There was something off about this guy’s surrender. Sure, he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth but deciphering this guy’s motives was like reading a closed book. “ Wow. Didn’t think that was actually going to work.” Virgil spoke in a slow, diplomatic tone, steadily reaching out with a electrical tendril and ripping a piece of metal off a broken street-lamp to shape into a set of handcuffs. “ Thanks. Really appreciate it. Now, just hold still as I take those shiny gloves off your -” Then - A flash. -everything- A boom. -went- The heat -to hell. Ribs. Check. Eyes? Check. Teeth okay? Check. Arms? Check. Legs? Check. Everything else? Not doing so good. Something was definitely bleeding on his forehead. Virgil groaned as he pushed himself up using his elbows, head ringing and vision blurring from whatever had hit him just now. Every ounce of electromagnetic power shored up inside Virgil’s body instinctively expanded outwards into a protective bubble, cushioning him from the brunt of the explosion as it sent him flying across the street. There was a blossoming of pain that shot outwards from Virgil’s everything as he struggled to get up onto his two knees. The bottom right corner of his goggles had a hairline crack that ran across it like a fissure. There was a ever-constant ringing in his ears as he tried to regain control of his faculties. He could have died. Virgil panted in agony, leaning onto the side of a car for support as the cloud of smoke slowly cleared away to reveal the burglar. “ I didn’t think it would be that easy to get you in range of the pipe bomb…. ” The robber stepped out of the shattered window of the storefront, rubbing his hands together “ but all that electricity you’ve been blasting out must have short-circuited your brain today, Static. ” “ Great. They’re getting smarter.” Alright. No more quipping. No more messing around. Virgil’s right fist enclosed as he gathered current around it, ready to finish the guy off in one blast. He raised the open palm of his hand, unleashing electric hell on the robber in desperation. There was a startled shout and then, silence. Virgil closed off the flow of current and then, his jaw dropped at what he saw next. The guy was completely unharmed. The amount of electricity that he’d pumped into him had been enough to knock out a man several times over. The robber apparently had the same reaction to it as he did, patting his unblemished costume all over before murmuring in appreciation. “ Well, damn, it really does work. Now that I know your limits….” The costumed burglar lifted up a glove and pressed a trigger. A series of electrical relays on the knuckles of the gauntlet began to glow as a low-pitched hum emanated out. Virgil gulped as he saw the man punch the side of a parked van, pancaking the front like cardboard and sending the van rolling in a tumble. “ I can test out mine on you.“ Virgil gathered the last bits of strength, the pool of electricity left in his body regenerating at a slow pace after being used to defend him from the explosion. It was barely enough to charge a I-Phone at this point. Force-fields were a theoretical concept in physics. Making theoretical concepts in reality with his powers was not impossible but definitely exhausted his reserves beyond comprehension. This was bad. Really bad. Virgil gritted his teeth as he speaked, drawing his words out to create just a few precious seconds for him to find a way out of this situation. “ So, before we begin this dance, what’s your name? The Pineapple Poacher?” The robber stopped for a few moments, a chuckle signalling the end of his choice before replying back. “ Nah, you can just call me ……… Shocker.” The Shocker then popped out both of his gloves, mechanical whines issuing from their ports, as he charged towards Virgil, gauntlets ready to pound him into submission. [i]Who am I to complain about the name? I’m a guy named freakin’ Static after all. [/i]