[CENTER][sup][h1][center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/019e7f21-5c0d-7176-9f62-8798b05e8373.webp[/img][/center][b][center][color=black] A Q U A L A D[/color]
[color=gold]A Q U A L A D[/color][/center]
[/b][/h1][/sup]
[sup][color=limegreen][b]L (No Cap)[/b] (part IV)[/color]
[url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5665669]prev[/url] | next | [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8V11Y2IjWaw][i]soundtrack[/i][/url][/sup][/CENTER]
[color=goldenrod][b]NEW YORK[/b][/color]
[color=limegreen][sub][b]INFERNO: AFTERMATH[/b][/sub][/color]

[INDENT][COLOR=SILVER]10 million.

As Arthur stared at the small, cracked screen in his hands, he was going numb with shock at the number.

10 million subscribers. On his Insta. A few days ago, he’d had 3 subscribers, and that included his nana and dad, so really he only had 1 subscriber he didn’t know and wasn’t closely related to.

Now it felt like the eyes of the world were on his 4th and 5th grade swim meet videos. With him wearing a competition speedo and commenting. Some positive. Some negative. Some with words he didn’t understand or wasn’t allowed to say.

But in all cases, they were calling him [b]Aqualad[/b].

In the midst of the Fire Troll disaster, it had been [i]Superboy[/i]. That at least had some rizz to it. [i]Superman[/i] would be, like, totes sigma but it was also kinda already taken. 

Tears in his eyes, Arthur lashed out as he demanded, [color=lime][b]“Why did you name it AQUALAD!?”[/b][/color]

If Arthur was apoplectic, then Tom Curry was just confused. [color=snow]“[b]You’re[/b] the one who named it!”[/color]

[color=lime][b]“I WAS EIGHT!”[/b][/color]

Seriously, with the Internet of Things being as perma-death as it was, letting an 8-year-old name a social media account that was going to follow them into college and job applications seemed the height of irresponsible parenting.

Tom buried his face in his hand, pulling on the unkempt beard that had grown in over the past two weeks as he exhaled slowly.

He was probably supposed to have some great parental wisdom to espouse for moments like this. Except he didn’t. He was coming up blank for what to even say as the negasonic tweenage warhead was primed for a dramatic explosion.

To make matters worse, a car with government plates was pulling up near where Tom and the boy’s lingered next to a very battered pickup truck. One that, at the very least, still started. It wasn’t going to be a pleasant drive back to Amnesty Bay with some of the windows blown out, but the crack in the windshield was manageable until they got home.

With a wave toward the truck’s cab, Tom warned, [color=snow]“Get in the truck.”[/color] To his relief, and temporary reprieve for a war on one front, Arthur did as he was told.

The National Guard commander was getting out of the car. Hands in the pockets of his battered jacket, Tom gave him a slight nod. [color=snow]“Colonel,”[/color] he offered politely, before cutting off any small talk. [color=snow]“I hope it’s brief. We were just...”[/color]

The colonel held up a hand. “Leaving, I know,” he interjected, obliging the lighthouse keeper. “I came to see if I could persuade you to stay another couple of days. The work the boys are doing...”

[color=snow]“Is saving lives. You’ve told me,”[/color] Tom said evenly.  [color=snow]“But they’re [i]kids[/i]. They’ve been sleeping out of shelters for the last couple of weeks. I need to get them [b]home[/b].”[/color]

The look on the colonel’s face showed his disappointment. Regardless, the man offered. “I understand. I had to try, but I do understand.” Offering a hand toward the lighthouse keeper, the colonel remarked. “You’re raising some good kids. You can rest assured all of America is proud of everything they’ve been doing.”

Tom didn’t let go of the breath he’d been holding until the colonel was back in the car, all he could see were taillights moving away. [color=snow]“Tell that to Reddit.”[/color] the man whispered bitterly.[/COLOR][/INDENT]

[center][color=black][b]* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *[/b][/color][/center]
[color=goldenrod][b]AMNESTY BAY[/b][/color]

[INDENT][COLOR=SILVER]He knew there was going to be a problem before he even turned onto the harbor landing. A large crowd spilled across the waterfront. A protest and a counter-protest. 

It seemed like overnight Arthur had become a flashpoint in the mutant rights debate. 

And the best part was, he wasn’t even a mutant. But try explaining to Average Joe what an Atlantean was. 

The black smoke rising from the docks was just the proverbial icing on the cake.

[color=lime]“Is that our boat!?”[/color] Arthur demanded, throwing open the passenger door and bailing out before Tom had the truck in park. 

Garth followed close behind, while Tom tried to mentally brace himself as he exited the truck. 

Even while the man couldn’t [i]hear[/i] Garth’s telepathic spellcasting, he’d come to recognize the Atlantean boy’s body language.

[color=snow]“No!”[/color] the man snapped, taking Garth by the shoulder and gently pulling him back. 

Gesturing to the angry mob, the man explained, [color=snow]“Magic might set them off more than they already are.”[/color]

Motioning for Garth to go join Arthur, Tom managed to lock eyes with the closest police officer. One of the Masterson boys.

Small town. Everyone knew everyone. For better or worse. [color=snow]“Hey!”[/color] Tom snapped, gesturing toward the inflamed boat that was starting to sink down into the water. 

He knew something was off as the officer approached. The swagger. The look of sheer arrogance. “Is there a problem, sir?” the barely twenty-something deputy asked vapidly.

[color=snow]“The boat. That’s burning?”[/color]

The deputy made a show of looking around the harbor. “I don’t see anything,” he stated flatly, turning to regard Tom with a complete apathy.

Leaning in slightly closer, Tom stated, [color=snow]“Maybe you want to open your eyes.”[/color]

The deputy, hand on the butt of his pistol, stepped in, their faces close as he retorted, “Maybe you want to get that FREAK son of yours back in the truck and get the FUCK out of our town.”

Tom held the officer’s gaze, saying nothing, until finally the officer took an uncomfortable step backward. [color=snow]“Your town, is it?”[/color] the man echoed with a forced smile. [color=snow]“And here I thought your folks moved here from Connecticut.”[/color]

The deputy held his gaze a moment longer, then moved back toward the protest. 

The anti-mutant side, obviously. He clearly wasn’t there for anyone save for them.

Tom could think of a dozen different ways that this could get ugly. None of which were going to net any positive outcomes for Arthur. As he made his way toward the sinking, smoking boat and the pair of boys watching helplessly from the pier, the man stated, [color=snow]“You boys can’t be here. Do you think you can get back to the lighthouse on your own?”[/color]

Violet eyes gleaming, Garth flatly declared, [color=violet]“I was never planning to ride on that boat.”[/color] It was clear that swimming home had been an event that the Atlantean had been looking forward to for weeks.

Arthur seemed less enthusiastic. Looking back at the angry mob, then up at his father, he asked, [color=lime]“Dad?”[/color]

[color=snow]“I can’t exactly swim back to the island,”[/color] Tom remarked. An honest, if blunt, truth about the situation. [color=snow]“I’ll handle this. You and Garth get back. Vulko will watch over you until I get back.”[/color]

The boy seemed about to protest, when a McDonald’s cup sailed through the air. The contents spilling out as the cup bounced off.

Tom looked back in the direction the cup had been thrown from. The protesters were all cheering, obviously gearing up to throw more. Which was setting off the counter-protesters, who seemed ready to do some throwing of their own.

[color=snow]“Arthur please,”[/color] Tom snapped, looking back at the confused boy.

He needed to go. [b]Now.[/b]

Finally, taking a step back, Arthur just looked down at the ground even as he gave a nod of understanding. 

Garth went running down the pier, diving off into the water as Arthur followed more reluctantly. He looked back at Tom a moment before diving off.

Leaving the man to do what he said he’d do.

Handle it.

Just how was he going to handle it?

[color=snow]“I have no fucking clue,”[/color] the man murmured to himself in reply.

Maybe he should have taken the colonel up on that offer and kept the boys in New York.[/COLOR][/INDENT]