Hello all, it is I the Harry Wompa! I have returned! Not with an update sadly, rather another oneshot. Rest assured though I have many chapters in the works for the Fishing Trip, I am just trying to make them fit. All of you who have read and especially those who have reviewed, much thanks! I take everything you say under advisement, and I am trying to get this stuff done but... I am spaztic, sporadic, and distractible. I am working on it though, and everyone of you who reads and reviews gives me a little more power to press through!
Disclaimer: I own the Teen Titans. Pfft, as if. I don't, so don't sue me. Yadda yadda, blah blah blah.
Synopsis: Ryan Petras did his best, but as a child of the red light district, a bastard, no one gave him a second glance. But one day all that changes; one day he's had enough. A prequel of sorts to the Beast Within Episode, exploring Adonis' origin. Rated T for some swearing and adult concepts.
The Adonis
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Ryan shifted his bag to rest more comfortably on his shoulder. His thin frame stuck out in all the wrong places, and no matter how her tried the bag always irritated him.
At least the weather was nice, though it almost always was. Jump City rested on the coast of California, and was blessed with a steady climate. Ryan wished it wasn't so predictable at times; in fact a rainstorm would be quite welcome at the moment.
At least school was over, and while that meant the punks would be on the streets, he at least could avoid them. The truth was Ryan wasn't well liked, though he had no say in the matter. He just happened to be born in shit, and though he was friendly and bright, no one would ever look past that.
Speaking of which, here was a group up ahead; wealthy kids, at least compared to Ryan. Their parents were well off, at least so much that they could send their children to Murakami Private High School. Ryan on the other hand was enrolled via his mind, and worse, charity. None of them let him forget it, and in the summer they were worse, with no supervision to keep their fists at bay.
Ryan ducked into an alley, thankfully unnoticed. While school gave him freedom from his peers, it also bound him to his home, and as he approached the townhouses he sighed in contempt. Jump City had the best of California, and the worst, and Ryan lived in the latter.
The Townhouses here were commonly called 'Red Light Houses', and the stench of human flesh attested to the name. By the docks these old buildings held the poorest and most desperate of Jump City's citizens, and one could get all manner of carnal pleasure for pocket change. Ryan lived in building three, a slightly less run down building than the others. He smirked; at least he was well off compared to someone.
He opened the door, the smell of cigars and beer wafting from within. He took a final breath and stepped in, the loose door squeaking shut behind him. No one appeared to be home, and all the better; Ryan didn't want to see his mother just then. He tossed his bag onto the counter and settled into the ratty couch, careful to remain on the unstained part of the cover.
He clicked on the old tube TV, and after fidgeting with the rabbit ears got a signal. The news was about all they got, but Ryan didn't mind. He knew the effect of television; he saw it in his classmates, Neanderthalic morons all.
The reporter droned on about this and that, and Ryan watched with passing interest. He imagined his mother coming home, alone for once, and asking to see his report card. He smiled at the thought of her congratulating him on his perfect marks, and then maybe she would offer to take him out to dinner, somewhere uptown maybe...
He was disrupted by an alert from the TV, and he opened his eyes to see what the bulletin was. The Titan's; how could it not be them? The reporter was giving a brief overview of their latest escapades, and Ryan rolled his eyes at the number of times the word 'heroes' was used.
What type of hero let a giant explosion like that happen right outside the city? The screen showed the remains of some villain's lair floating in the bay1, as the reporter sang the praises of the Titans. Never once was collateral damage mentioned, but Ryan doubted things were so clean; they never were.
Heroes, ha, they were nothing special. Ryan frowned at the television, they were nothing but brutes, shoving their way into matters and causing a mess. No different than everyone else, strong arming and boastful. And like his school tormentors, their praises were sung, no one questioning why these so called heroes never helped those truly in need.
Ryan was interrupted from his thoughts by the sound of the door opening, and he heard a bang and some laughter. His mother passed the door, and stopped, smiling at her son. He smiled back, and heard a deep voice query her. She looked back and said, "Head upstairs, I won't be a minute." Ryan suppressed a grimace; he hated his mother's line of work.
"Hi sweety," said his mother, thick make up poorly concealing her aging face. "I have business, would you mind heading out for a while?" Ryan stood and shut off the TV, "Sure…" he let none of his disgust seep through, for despite her shortcomings, she was his mother.
"Thanks baby, here," she entered the room and pulled a twenty from her purse, "Get something nice." He took it gingerly, and stood there awkwardly for a moment. She looked him up and down and asked, "What's the matter?" He just shrugged, "It was the last day today,"
The older woman smiled again, and Ryan noted how fake even these genuine expressions were. "Well then, I'm sure you did well, now off you go. This is an important client," Ryan's eyes flicked to the ceiling and he couldn't suppress a shudder. "Aw c'mon baby," his mother placed a hand on his shoulder, "It pays the rent," He swallowed and nodded, and she looked at his face for a spell. Finally she sighed and kissed his cheek, "Go on now, I love you," He nodded again and slid past, hoping she meant her words.
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The day was still technically young he noticed as the door swung shut behind him. He glanced back at the house and shuddered at what was no doubt going on within. Pocketing the twenty he set off, debating the merits of pizza against chinese.
Unfortunately, Ryan forgot to check the street as he was walking, so occupied in his thoughts was he. So it was a particularly well muscled boy caught sight of him, and poked his friends. "Look, it's Petras, wonder what he's up to?" One of his fellows, another heavy kid, chuckled, "On a night like this? Maybe he's helpn' his ma," The beef heads spread across the side walk as Ryan kept walking, absorbed in his thoughts.
"Hey Petras," one of the boys called, prompting Ryan to stop in his tracks. His head whipped up and around, taking in the sight of six massive guys, on all sides. The largest, named Markus, cracked his knuckles, "You're out kinda late egghead."
Ryan tried to stay as small as possible as they hemmed him in, but to no avail. "So, we was thinkn'," said another, "Your ma, she comes cheap," another snickered, "But who would pay for that?" "Yeah, so how about you talk her down a bit?" "Maybe she'll do us all for the price of one," The morons chuckled and exchanged fist bumps; all the while Markus remained silent.
Ryan didn't move anymore; he had no room to. Instead he just looked up at Markus, and asks in as humble a tone as he could muster, "Can I go?" The huge man just shrugged, "You didn't answer Mike's question Petras," he leaned forward with a smirk, "What's your slut mother's group rates?"
He swallowed heavily, feeling the other's hot breath assault his face. "I don't know." Good, Ryan thought, no emotions, don't give them anything. They can't harass me if I don't react. Markus clucked his tongue, "Now that's a shame," He looked around and smirked, "How will we get a good deal? Maybe," He grinned as if a great idea just occurred to him, and his friends laughed, "You could cover us. That way, we won't have to pay as much. What d'ya say little guy, what d'ya got?"
A beefy hand extended, and Ryan sighed internally. "I don't have anything," Markus pouted, "Now that's not fair; you always got somethin. What, your whore ma didn't give you nothing?" He poked Ryan's shoulder, hard, "Well, 'sides aids of course,"
Ryan gritted his teeth as another hand poked him, and another. Unfortunately, having few friends never allowed Ryan to develop much patience. "Wonder where them brains came from eh?" Markus went on, "That cunt couldn't have had much to pass," he stroked his chin, "Maybe she fucked some mad scientist?"
Something hit the back of his knee, and Ryan stumbled, only to have Markus catch his arm. The other squeezed his arm, "you got her arms for sure," Ryan pulled himself away, only getting out of his grip because he let him. "You're awful quite shit stain,"
Ryan took a calming breath, and looked right in Markus' eyes. "That is because I don't want to explain my every word to an idiot like you." Markus raised his brows, and the others fell silent. "Idiot?" his face cracked into a smile, and Markus grabbed Ryan by the shoulders, "I don't gotta be smart to be the best," And with that his knee flew up into Ryan's chest.
His wind was knocked far from him, but Markus wasn't done. "You know, it's punks like you that make this city stink," He backhanded Ryan, "Gutter trash that don't know its place," his hand came back for another pass.
But Ryan was done, and he brought up his arm to take the blow, and swung one of his own. The feeble swing missed Markus entirely, and the bigger man just mocked him, "That's it? What a fag," He made a fist and struck his cheek.
As he fell Markus put a foot on his hand, stepping down eliciting a cry of pain. "This is your fucking place bastard," Ryan squirmed, trying to turn, but Markus just slapped his face. "Where are your brains now? This is all that matters," Markus flexed, removing his foot in the process. "Here, I'm a god."
Ryan looked up at the man boy and smirked, "All I see is a Douche with an inferiority complex," He knew he would regret that, but the look of incomprehension on the other's face was priceless. The next ten minutes of pulverization on the other hand was not.
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Ryan shuffled along, everything aching. One eye was almost shut, and his ribs stung with every step. Worse though was his empty pockets and his emptier stomach; he daren't return home yet. So he just wandered, a slight limp the only outward sign of pain, the day turning to night.
It was in this rather worn condition that he entered the industrial district. The factories were all still functioning; industry never stopped. Ryan looked up at the buildings with contempt, for each produced pointless products, each more frivolous than the last, and yet somehow respected.
Strength, he mused, it is all so pointless. Who cares if he was brilliant? He had nothing for it; no money, no respect, and no power. He was the recipient of numerous awards, scholarships, and the top of his classes, for what? To be beat up and robbed, it was terrible. His ratty sneakers kicked up gravel as he walked, and he imagined himself as a shoe, and the rocks everyone else. How great it would be, to just step on people.
He looked up and found himself face to face with the Axis chemicals plant, its large stacks spewing thick smoke into the night air, visible even in the dark. The acrid smell of its contents churned his stomach, and he moved on, seeing a large billboard just ahead.
Ryan glanced at the brightly coloured sign for a moment, noting it as a car advertisement. A large red sports car adorned it, filled with scantily clad women and a widely grinning man. A stylized A was its logo, and Ryan rolled his eyes when he saw what it stood for. Adonis Industries… Adonis, as in the Greek god of male power and perfection; how arrogant.
The board was backed by a squat warehouse bearing the same A, and Ryan noticed its doors hung ajar, but no lights came from within. Curious, and sick of being outdoors, Ryan headed for the opening, calling out when he got to the threshold. No one answered, and Ryan stepped inside, feeling about for a light switch.
When he found one and gave it a flick a series of incandescent bulbs flickered on, one exploding, causing him to jump. Ryan looked about, expecting to see an assembly line or storage crates but instead finding nothing of the sort. Dirty cardboard boxes lined one wall, but along the other was an old sofa and a broken tube. What appeared to be a workshop was behind this, but it looked as if it hadn't been used in quite some time.
Ryan stepped cautiously forward, but nothing jumped out at him. Relieved he looked over the work area, noting with surprise the amount of tech present. It had clearly been here a while, but nothing was looted, very odd.
After a while looking around Ryan flopped down in a swivel chair in the workspace. He huffed and leaned back, grateful to be sitting. Wouldn't it be awesome if he just didn't get tired? Ryan smiled and imagined what it would be like, to be tireless, to be an Adonis; certainly the rewards would be better than those of a scrawny bookworm.
Just then a glint caught his eye, just under the work desk. He got up and knelt, reaching beneath to pull it out; a key. It was a small key, with a bit of rust on it from so long on the floor, but what peeked Ryan's interest was what he noticed while crouching.
The desk before him had a drawer, with a lock. He hadn't noticed before because of the angle, but the drawer face rested just below the desk lip. Gingerly he brought the key to bear, and grinned when it slid smoothly into the slot. With a turn the latch popped and he pulled it open.
Inside was a bunch of papers, schematics by the looks of them, but for something like Ryan had never seen. It looked like some kind of robot, but as he shuffled through the pages he found they contained much more than that. This machine, called Atlas 1.0.12 on the page top, was more of a suit of armor than robot. Why, with only a little redesigning…
Ryan's brow furrowed, with a little redesigning this could be a suit. And what was more, most of the tech was already here, scattered about this abandoned and somehow untouched treasure trove. Ryan began gathering the parts and tools, wondering about the plating. While he had all the little parts, there was still a large amount of material he would need.
Wandering the empty space he eventually cracked open one of the boxes by the one wall. Low and behold a bright red surface revealed itself; the boxes contained car parts! And behind them he found the carcass of an Adonis sports car, hidden by the mountain of boxes.
His face split in a grin and Ryan laid a hand on the car. Strength was power then? He would become strong then, but he would just be the best of his peers. Ryan Petras was going to be an Adonis, the best of the best.
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A week later a number of boys were found dead, every bone in their bodies crushed. Among them the quarterback of Murakami High School, named Markus. Hours later the same scene was found in a townhouse by the docks, a prostitute and her client found crushed in the rubble of the building. The Titans were called in; this was too big for the cops.
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1For those who don't remember, the episode Wavelength preceded The Beast Within, where the Titans stopped Brother Blood from setting of a tsunami with his underwater lair. Just giving a bit of context, and establishing reasons for Ryan to hate them.
2 A reference to yet another Titans episode, Only Human, if you recall it. I always wondered where Atlas came from, and here he is…at least, part of him. Maybe one day I'll expand on his origins, but for now, just imagine this as an old hideout of his, or maybe of his creator, who knows.
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Well, there you are. My first in this new series. I am going to post one shots in this story from now on, just to keep my published stories less cluttered. It's my OCD coming out... anywho, thanks for reading, and I love you a lot, so review? Once again, updates in this story will be stand alone stories, each chapter its own oneshot, mostly to give me an outlet while working through my syndicated tales. So... peace out.
Much love,
The Harry Wompa