[CENTER][sup][h1][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/I9miQgN.png[/img][/center][b][center][color=black] B L A C K A D A M[/color] [color=gold]B L A C K A D A M[/color][/center] [/b][/h1][/sup] [sup][color=goldenrod][b]BACK IN BLACK[/b] (part III)[/color] [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5619246]prev[/url] | [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5623432]next[/url] | [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J2AkkbxwIMI][i]soundtrack[/i][/url][/sup][/CENTER] [color=gold][b]THE ISLAMIC REPUBLIC OF KAHNDAQ[/b][/color] [INDENT][COLOR=SILVER]In Ancient Egypt, less than half of the children born lived to even 5 years of age. To have a child who lived was seen as nothing less than a blessing from the gods themselves. If a child did not have parents, they were taken in by others. Laborer, craftsman, slave... it didn’t matter. The ancient world knew that children were the lifeblood of the future, a future that was always just one plague away from being snatched away. In modern times, man had eliminated slavery. Eradicated disease. The infant mortality rate for the region was less than two percent, or about sixteen deaths for every one thousand infants. But if society and medicine had seen waves of progress, it seemed the value of human life – or childhood at least – might have hit an all time low, with over a million children living and dying on the streets of Egypt and Kahndaq. Viewed as criminals rather than victims, the police were a source of abuse, not aid. They fell into roving street gangs for protection, but those gangs were often a source of as much, or more, violence than what they’d sought to escape on the street. It was a reality as ugly as it was cruel, and the Champion of Kahndaq didn’t have an answer on how to make it right. The Champion of Kahndaq didn’t even know where he was going to get something to eat. As penniless as when he’d been a slave, but arguably worse for not having even a master responsible for him, the boy had found himself on the street like so much trash. “[i]No beds[/i],” the man said, as the boy stood outside of a shelter run by one of the cities undervalued nonprofits, and being turned away. “[i]I can give you this, though,[/i]” the man added, handing the child a scrap of stale tandoori bread and perhaps a handful of basmati rice. It was maybe two bites at most. [color=goldenrod]“[i]Thank you,[/i]”[/color] Teth offered simply, as he found the door shut as he was left standing on the street. The same story, night after night. He’d struggle to recall if asked when the last time was that he had a shower or clean clothes. Two more shelters turned him out. Too few resources for too many. Amir was about Teth’s age, panhandling outside a subway station. When Mar-Vell had left to follow after the Reach’s retreat and Teth had found himself on the streets of Kahndaq, it had been Amir who’d offered a hand in helping the disoriented Champion through surviving on the streets in this day and age. [color=goldenrod]“[i]Any luck?[/i]”[/color] the green-eyed boy asked in Arabic, as the pair exchanged a series of fist bumps in an elaborate handshake “[i]No,[/i]” Amir answered flatly, spitting on the sidewalk as he added, “[i]Stingy bastards.[/i]” Teth made a hollow, sardonic sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. Putting his back to the stairwell that led down into the subway, the time-lost warrior closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the trains and people mulling about. The Kahndaq he remembered had been so full of people, and yet so quiet at night. “[i]Where have you been?[/i]” Amir asked, interrupting the boy’s brooding. [color=goldenrod]“[i]Around,[/i]”[/color] Teth answered cryptically. “[i]Is your name really Teth?[/i]” [color=goldenrod]“[i]Huh?[/i]”[/color] That seemed random. “[i]I mean, it's like saying, ‘hi, I’m the devil!’[/i]” Amir opined aloud. “[i]People are always saying things like, ‘oh Teth-Adam will devour you’. It means like evil or whatever, doesn’t it?[/i]” It meant [b]mighty[/b], but, okay, fair. [color=goldenrod]“[i]I... get that alot, actually,[/i]”[/color] Teth admitted. “[i]You should tell people your name is... I dunno, like, Theo.[/i]” In the annals of history, Shazam was revered and it seemed that Teth was the devil. Just how had they landed on this topic? Changing the subject, as his stomach was reminding him of why he’d started this way, Teth looked over and asked, [color=goldenrod]“[i]You think that shelter on Cyrus Avenue might have food?[/i]”[/color] “[i]Closed,[/i]” The other boy offered. Before Teth could ask, the youth just gave a shrug. The costs of everything was still up from the war, with charities already stretched thin collapsing under the added economic pressures. Teth’s stomach growled. In many ways, it was like living as a slave again. Except, as cruel as they might have been, the slavers actually had some motivation for keeping the slaves alive. At least until the job was done. [color=goldenrod]“[i]Guess I’ll go to our usual place and try to get some sleep then.[/i]”[/color] Their usual place was a mostly intact building in a neighborhood that had been all but leveled during the fighting with the Reach, condemned but work on rebuilding the city lingered on between cost overruns, no shortage of accusations of corruption, and an emphasis on the more affluent parts of the city. “[i]I’m going to stay here awhile longer. I’ve almost got enough to where I could buy from the falafel cart tomorrow,[/i]” Amir remarked, even though the two seemed all but invisible to the people around them. Teth gave a slight nod and wave as he started to take his leave. Amir’s voice called out to him as he did. “[i]Let’s have some falafel tomorrow.[/i]” The green-eyed boy dipped his head so that Amir wouldn’t see the tear that had just slipped free. Teth didn’t know if saints were real or not, but here was a boy with literally nothing but the shirt on his back, begging for food and he was offering to share what he’d eeked out of charity with someone he barely knew. And if he knew who Teth really was, might have second thoughts about it. [color=goldenrod]“[i]Inshallah,[/i]”[/color] Teth offered, lifting his head up just briefly as he offered the other boy a wave and then started making his way down the street. He was crying but it didn’t matter, it was as if he didn’t even exist to the other people mulling around him. Protector of Kahndaq. He’d never felt so weak and powerless.[/COLOR][/INDENT] [center][b][color=black]+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +[/color][/b] [color=gold][sub][b]I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE EXPECTING OF ME[/b][/sub][/color] [i]but under the pressure of walking in your shoes[/i] [color=gold][sub][b]EVERY STEP THAT I TAKE IS ANOTHER MISTAKE TO YOU[/b][/sub][/color] [sub][color=goldenrod]- linkin park, [i]“numb”[/i][/color][/sub] [b][color=black]+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +[/color][/b][/center] [INDENT][COLOR=silver]They’d piled some flattened cardboard for use as mattresses. Blankets threadbare, discarded and unwashed, but comforting all the same as Teth huddled in the shadow of the broken out window and stared up at what little of the night’s sky he could see for all the light generated by the city. If it was possible, part of him actually missed the Reach. The struggle. The fight. There had been a simplicity about it. Knowing who your enemy was. An enemy you could touch. Somehow, in victory, life felt like a slow, lingering defeat. He rested his head against the crumbling plaster, shut his eyes, and tried – just for a moment – to ignore the hunger pains. [color=goldenrod]...[i]he was on the run... ...something behind him... ...the moon was high overhead, the streets emptied out. But the alleys were familiar. Two blocks away. Almost to their place... ...he needed to get to the place... ...something grabbed him.[/i][/color] The ceiling exploded as a lightning bolt crashed down on the makeshift bed. The cardboard ignited, the blanket smoldering as the child snapped to his feet garbed in the black outfit with the lightning emblazoned down the front. Fists clenched, he was ready for a fight, against what he didn’t know. Gasping for breath, as though waiting for some ethereal boogeyman to jump out of the shadows at him. But there was no danger. So why did he have this feeling that something was very, [b]very[/b] wrong. Daylight was starting to trickle in through the shattered window, illuminating a detail that caused a sinking feeling in the starving boy. Amir hadn’t slept here last night.[/color][/indent]