[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/RkFZD7E.jpg?1[/img][/center] [i]If I ever wrote a Dummy's Guide on how to become a teenage superhero, the first lesson would be to remember that you aren’t the first one. Just because you’re stronger than a locomotive or faster than a speeding bullet doesn’t mean that you’re the biggest fish in the pond. No, you’re a fish in an ocean and it’s important to remember that the ocean has been longer around than you have. Let me explain. Ever since I came on the scene, “ Lightning strikes the same place twice” has become a local saying in Dakota City. Non-Dakotans often mistake the context of the phrase for something else entirely. That also means I wasn’t the first black electric superhero in Dakota City. Yeah, I know. Shocking, right? “ See the lightning, feel the thunder.” That was Black Lightning’s catch-phrase back in the day. Every local has a different story or anecdote to say about him. How he once saved their pet bird from being electrocuted. How he threw down bolts of lightning like Zeus towards joy-riding robbers. How he once busted a drug ring by himself like a one-man army. I can say that about 75% of them are bullshit and 25% of them have a grain of truth in them. One thing was for certain, though. Black Lightning was so effective that he essentially replaced Dakota’s corrupt police force in protecting the city. Then, out of nowhere, he disappeared. One of the problems about finding out where superheroes disappeared to is that you don’t know their real identity. Everyone knows what happened after that. Dakota City soon became the crime infested hell-hole that everyone in the Mid-East is talking about. Gangs and syndicates started moving in, some returning and some new, into the free real estate that Black Lightning accidentally provided for them. Then, the Big Bang came in and suddenly, I’m part of the equation that makes up Dakota City. Just like Black Lightning once was. Living in the shadow of Black Lightning ain’t a pretty thing. Trust me. It gets annoying when people like to point out similarities between him and me like a game of Spot the Difference. It gets worse when you have to hear the endless amount of theories about connections between me and Black Lightning. An alien imposter? A robotic impersonator? A younger clone? Time-travel? His son? Trust me, I would vastly prefer any bat-shit insane theory over the last one I mentioned. Because, one nut-job just had to be right. I am his son. [/i] [hr] [b]location:[/b] Harold's Hardware [b]time:[/b] 4:00 PM The moment he crashed through the front entrance of Harold’s Hardware was the moment that Virgil realised he was totally out of his depth. Virgil rested in the middle of a wrecked shelf of bathroom appliances, already feeling wooden splinters crawling into his skin. A hand swam into the midst of his blurry vision, a voice speaking out towards him. “ Hey, do you need a hand?” Virgil took the hand, calloused fingers locking around soft ones. He grasped it strongly. Bit by bit, he was assisted into standing normally by the stranger who’d helped him. “ A few blinks transformed the blurry brown blotch into the face of a auburn-haired young woman. A spread of freckles covered her cheeks and her frizzy hair shrouded her head like a lion’s mane. Virgil could have sworn that he saw her from somewhere before. Virgil rubbed his face, feeling the trickle of blood leaking between his hands. The woman looked down towards his hands, alarmed. “ Is that supposed to be happening?” The veins within his hands were glowing and bulging, errant cobwebs of static discharging erratically from his palms. He checked his inner stores for a moment. Slivers. He bet that if he even tried to cast out a bolt of electricity, sparks would only fly out. Still, it was more than he had previously 20 minutes ago. Looked like playing tag had been useful after all. The Shocker was nowhere to be seen. For now. He shook his head as a reply and was on the beginnings of thanking the girl - Virgil was then assailed immediately by a crowd of curious customers who barraged him with questions. “ Oh my god! It’s Static! Can you - ” “ Could I please get a selfie with you? The 3 of - ” “ Hey! Hey! You broke my fucking entrance, Static! I’m not paying for th-” “ Do superheroes get discounts?” (To be fair, the last one was actually an valid question.) There was a loud scream as out of the corner of his eyes, Virgil saw something blurring towards him at untold speeds. He swerved to the left as a parking toll gutted through several shelves like a kebab stick, items being flung everywhere haphazardly. The screaming and shouting only added to the chaos. The Shocker was now punching whatever he could find on the street towards him. The sheer momentum that was packed in his gauntlets could transform the most ordinary of objects into deadly projectiles. Virgil’s eyes widened as he saw the Shocker begin to approach an abandoned concrete truck resting near Harold’s shop. The gears began to crunch in his mind as the rubber suited robber’s plan was obvious as daylight. “ Everyone, get out now!” He shouted towards the crowd of customers as they began to disperse and run out the exits. He managed to catch a glimpse of the girl who helped him. Never even got her name. Virgil’s eardrums burst with the sound of a highway collision as he turned his head towards the sight of a 10-wheeler slamming into Harold’s front entrance and lodging itself between the brick walls like a dam. The ceiling of fluorescent lighting shivered, dimming and brightening in random patterns. A second punch from the Shocker’s fists burst apart the chassis of the 10-wheeler in half, metal shrapnel slicing apart and sticking themselves in the walls. The Shocker strode through the bisected vehicle. Confident. Assured. Luckily, the store was large enough for Virgil to run away in. “ What’s the matter, Lightning Junior?,” Shocker taunted.“ Out of juice? We all thought you were the living reincarnation of the Energizer Bunny from the way you’ve been acting last month.” He didn’t know how he’d managed to muster the energy to move even a single muscle or run at this point. Whether it was a benefit of being a Bang Baby or adrenaline, Virgil couldn’t care less as he hid behind a rack of wrenches. Virgil shouted out, his voice echoing through the inner confines of the ruined store. “ Who’s we?” “ Oh, some associates of mine. You should be less worried about them and more about you. We were all fine and dandy with your little cops and robbers routine but you’ve been growing bolder. Bigger. We can’t have another Black Lightning: Volume 2 in Dakota City. Too bad copycats often follow the way of their predecessors.” “ What? You think that I’ll disappear like he did? ” Virgil eyed the escape exit as he began to slowly cross towards him, making sure each of his steps was as silent as possible. “ No. Which is why I’m here to teach you what it means to be a hero.” “ Quite an unorthodox teaching style. Smashing walls apart. Were you popular with the kids? ” “ It did. Made them quiet enough.” “ For how long?” “ Enough that they didn’t pipe up in class anymore. Like you’re currently doing right now.” He was almost the edge of the exit entrance before a whine of circuitry and air-powered vacuums breached the tension. “Gotcha.” Virgil suddenly found himself in the position of being off his feet again, a shelving unit slamming painfully into his right side. Something cracked as he was flung into the back of a counter. Virgil groggily stood up to meet the searing heat of agony. It was coming from his left forearm. He hung it out to take a look at it, gritting at the knives of pain that were biting into his elbow. His arm was crooked at the wrong angle, like a child twisting back the arms of a doll. The silhouette of the Shocker came into view, his fingers tapping the underside of his masked chin. “ Hmph, not symmetrical enough. Maybe, I should break your other arm to balance it all out?” Virgil then looked upwards at the lights, glaring bright down towards him. The lights. Well, it was a good a chance as any. A bottle of clear solution was next to him. Fortified rubbing alcohol. 100 proof. An orange triangle paper label was printed onto the side. Flammable. An idea began to form in his head. A suicidal one but an idea, nonetheless. He glared towards the Shocker as he began to raise another fist. “ Thanks for the offer but my insurance doesn’t cover being injured by a punch-happy pineapple.” Virgil grabbed the bottle to the side of him and threw it. A childhood of playing baseball had directed it directly towards the Shocker’s face. It shattered apart on contact. The punch stopped mid-flight. None of the glass shards had cut him but the danger of the bottle was in the contents rather than in the container. He then summoned the last reserves of electromagnetic energy circulating into his body into a single high-current bolt towards the lights. An influx of electricity entered the lighting circuitry of the store, resistors melting apart and circuit-breakers activating as the store was enveloped in a shroud of darkness. “ Do you know how much the laundry bill is going to be for this costume?” The Shocker stared around in the darkness to look for him, disoriented by the sudden change in lighting. “I guess this makes it more- “ Virgil leveled his right hand towards him, eyes closed, aiming towards his body. A single jolt of electricity leapt from the tip of his index finger towards the Shocker’s suit. He was intending on shocking him but chemistry taught him that alcohol was the most volatile out of all organic molecules. A pool of bright blue flame spread from the point of contact, the alcohol in the soaked suit being lit on fire. “ GAH, YOU SON OF A-, ” The Shocker was currently flailing around, his arm struggling to pry the coat of fire off him but the licks of flame just went through his gloved fingers. Being stuffed in a full-body suit was sweat-inducing but being stuffed in that suit while on fire at the same time? It was like being cooked inside an oven. The Shocker stumbled and ran out in a panic, looking for a way to extinguish himself. Virgil then ran. [hr] [b]location:[/b] hemingway high school [b]time:[/b] 12:30 AM His knuckles rapped several knocks on the room of his dorm room. Virgil hoped that Richie would answer soon, his shattered arm sending pain shooting down his spine with every second wasted. A yawn came out from behind the door before it whined open. Richie’s face blearily blinked, eyes half-lidded as he rubbed his left optic with his fist. “ Look, V, I’m letting you in after curfew for the last time, so, don’t whine for weeks on end about being caught by security - “ Rich put his glasses on, his tired face immediately shifting into a face of horror. “ V? Your arm! It’s - what happened to you?” “ Hey, Rich. Bad time to call a sick day tomorrow?” Virgil then coughed out, speckles of blood dropping onto the dorm floor. He stumbled forth, his broken arm tethering and tearing him apart. He felt Richie’s hand catch him by the shoulders, distraught voice yelling out, as his vision clouded over with only one remaining thought in his mind. [i]You lost [/i]