Ascendant

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Coming into his home, Alfred shook the rain off his coat. Was he glad they'd canceled soccer! It was pouring out there and he'd hardly been able to see his hand let alone a goal half a field away! Walking in through the kitchen door, he ignored his uncle cursing the oven and dropped his bag in one of the room's chairs; before proceeding to the living room where the television was already on playing a commercial for some cereal or another. Plopping down on the couch, he picked up the remote and flipped it to his favorite channel.

It was a news channel dedicated completely to supers; super heroes, super villains, super issues, super accomplishments, super everything. One of the best parts this channel's evening news Alfred had decided was the funny newscaster; Feliks Łukasiewicz. The guy was Polish and if you squinted, you could see he wore earrings. Alfred made a bet once with his brother that the guy was a drag queen. There had been no proof yet, of course, but Al was sure it was only a matter of time!

Why he liked this newscaster best, though, was because he used the word "totally" and "like" to such an extent that his uncle refused to be in the same room as the blond teenager when he chose to watch the evening news. Actually, it was one of the few ways that ensured Arthur wouldn't bother him about school and homework until after dinner. If they had dinner at the house, that is. Usually some calamity happened when his uncle made dinner and they'd go out to eat instead.

Feliks cleared his throat and grinned at the audience, or rather, the camera. "Like hello everybody," he said; "Today's big headlines include-but are totally not limited to-more genes have been discovered that are essential to the super makeup and how they are turned on and off, super riots in Hong Kong again this week, the Masked Turk is still at large in Turkey and some surrounding countries like Bulgaria and Cyprus..." he squinted. Shoulders a little tenser as he spoke again. "And in Russia, the U.S.S.R has attacked a small village and left several families without homes and their livestock stolen."

Letting green-eyed newscaster's words wash over him, Alfred began to think about what he knew about the U.S.S.R; not a lot was actually known. They suspected it was a small group, no more than ten, no less than four and rumor said they were just a bunch of kids. Not little kids of course, but like his age. That part was what always fascinated the blond the most.

Here his dad and uncle were telling him he was too young to be going out on the field and beating up bad guys, but there were guys out there-his age-causing havoc and wasn't it only fair that someone like him could go out their and defend the world and show everyone that not all super teens were crazy? He thought so. But his uncle refused his request at every turn and Alfred's papa agreed with the decision.

"Mon chou, finish your schooling, try out university; maybe it would agree with you, oui?"

The teenager scowled at remembrance of his father's words. They didn't want him out there. His papa and uncle wanted to treat him like a baby and he wasn't going to stand for it! So what if they thought he should wait a while longer before getting into the hero business? He didn't need their help to make a costume, or to find crimes he could stop. Alfred could do that all himself! He'd seen Arthur do it enough times to know how.

Smirking to himself, the blond thought about the costume designs he had in one of his notebooks. It had Super Man's colors, but it didn't look so dorky and once he got the fabric he ordered online...well, his papa and Arthur wouldn't be able to stop him from going out there much longer!

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"Shit!"

Alfred heard his uncle cry as he walked into the kitchen to ask when dinner would be ready. Looking to the blackened oven, he tossed back a handful of chips from one of the open bags on the table. Watching the older blond put aside the water bucket they kept on hand beside the flour, the teenager inquired;

"Can we get Mickey D's for dinner tonight Arthur?"

Flashing green eyes turned on him and with a fierce frown, the Englishman snapped; "No you little fat arse!"

Back up with his hands in the air, Al muttered; "Jeeze dude, no reason for name calling..." He ducked as a toaster came flying at his head and hurried into the dinning room where his brother was doing science at the table with Maple on his lap.

His twin looked up, "So I guess we're not eating anytime soon, eh?"

"Yeah," The teenager sighed. "Maybe we can order a pizza." He suggested hopefully.

Mattie shook his head. "Why don't we just go out? You might be grounded from the car, but I'm not."

"Aw man! You're the best!" Alfred enthused, bumping fists with his brother. "Hey, if we're going out, can we go to McDonald's?"

His twin threw an eraser at him. "You and your stupid McDonald's!" He grumbled.

"Okay! Okay! Pizza it is!" The teenager backed-off. "Let me get our coats. Meet you in five?"

"Yeah."

Driving to their favorite pizza joint about fifteen minutes from their home, Alfred fiddled with the radio until Matthew slapped his hand away.

"Quit that Al," he grumbled.

Pouting, the other began to drum his fingers on the dash board. Listless, he looked out to the evening streets and found them lacking in stimulation and so turned his attention to the radio. They were talking about the Million Man again. But who else was causing terror in the UK right now? No one, that 's who. Itching for something to occupy the silence, Alfred asked his brother; "Hey, do you want to be a hero?"

His twin looked over his glasses at him and frowned. "I don't know," Matthew answered. "Sometimes it looks fun. But other times it doesn't."

"Just think about all the people you'd help Mattie!"

Alfred's brother raised an eyebrow. "Sometimes Arthur causes more damage than he helps Al, why do you think he's always donating proceeds from his books to the police and stuff? To make up for it. How would either of us pay anybody back for the damage we'd cause? Neither of us have jobs even."

Sulkily, the blond teenager turned his head. "I wouldn't break anything."

"Alfred," Matthew said with a warm, bemused voice. "You've broken three phones this year from getting excited and squeezing them too hard. Just think what you might do to somebody when you rescue them."

Sticking his tongue out at his twin, Alfred whined; "You suck!" And he meant it too. Why did Mattie always have to be such a realist?

Any thoughts on America? Does his aspiration to be a hero despite France and England warning against doing it too soon seem appropriate? And what about Canada talking some sense into him? Did you like that guys? Yes? No? I'm thinking I'll have a concluding chapter for the F.A.C.E family before I move on to my next characters. Is there any preference on who I do next given the ones introduced in the first six chapters?

To Reviewers, Summer Leigh Wind and RubyContract; you're amazing. Thanks for taking the time to review you guys!

Characters:

(Al)fred-America

Mattie/(Matt)hew-Canada

Arthur-England

Feliks Łukasiewicz-Poland

Thanks for reading and please REVIEW!

P.S. If you have time, I'd really appreciate you voting on the poll I have on my page!