Disclaimer: I do not own Ben 10 or its sequels, spin-off and related characters. All is the property of Man of Action and Cartoon Network. I'm just borrowing them for some non-profit entertainment.
…Before Its Ever Even...
Chapter Twenty-Five: Enter Bad Luck
The desk shook a concerning amount when Gwendolyn plunked down the next stack of tomes she intended her son to study.
Devlin pushed back in his chair and blinked up at her. "What this now?"
"I cannot wait to start on conservation of magical energies with you!" Gwendolyn smiled down at her son.
For once, Devlin was studying at home. At his own desk, in his room. Bezel refused to see him on school nights or days when he was scheduled to see his therapist. Or any time that his mother might disapprove of. So, the Osmosian had plenty of time for independent study in between training sessions. That was what he was trying to do before his mother barged in with her stack of books. Of course, by 'independent study' he meant doodle costume and mask designs in the margins of his magic notebook.
Devlin eyed the more than impressive pile of books. "That's kinda a lot, Mom. I'm still working on the first eleven books you picked out for me."
Gwendolyn did not seem the least bit deterred. "Those were all introductory texts. I can coach you on that as we go. This is getting into the really interesting stuff."
Leaning back in his chair, the boy looked up at his mother. "Does this mean you're actually gonna let me do something, instead of sitting here safe at home reading books?"
"I just wanna make sure you'll be safe before I let you loose to start practicing freely." She deflected the question. "Magic is dangerous, it needs guidance."
"Really?" Devlin raised both eyebrows in an eerily similar approximation of one of Kevin's con-man leads. "And how much 'guidance' did you have when you were learning?"
Her lips pressed together in a thin line of disapproval. Gwendolyn was mostly self-taught. Beginning her own magical education at the age of ten after finding the Archamada. She didn't receive any formal training until six years later when she was accepted to a magical college and got to skip her last two years of high school. Gwendolyn's entire foundation for her magical knowledge and study was self-taught, independent, and un-guided.
Devlin was basically calling her out on hypocrisy.
Naturally, the sorceress did not appreciate being challenged like that by her own son. But it wasn't like it was untrue, so she couldn't really deny it either.
Instead, she forced that thin-lipped frown of disproval into a half-smile of pride. "I'm glad you're clever." She said. "You wouldn't be able to practice magic if you weren't."
The boy gave a dramatic sigh, interlacing his finger above his head, and exaggerating a long stretch. "Well, I am the son of the High Magus and one of the greatest criminal master minds who ever lived, so… I hopeI'm clever." He flashed an angelic smile and batted long eyelashes inherited from her. "Imagine what I could do if you would let me actually dothings."
That could be a terrifying idea.
Resting one hand on the stack of books she set on the desk, Gwendolyn drummed her fingers and considered her son. Her son whom was also Kevin Levin's son. She still didn't know what he'd seen or what he might have even done during those eleven years when she and Kevin was estranged and Devlin taken beyond her grasp. She knew her son was clever and independent, and there was no doubt in her mind that he could and would learn magic easily on his own if left to do so. But magic had the potential to be dangerous, and Osmosians had the potential to be dangerous. An Osmosian learning magic was danger squared.
Gwendolyn didn't actually knowwhat her son would do if given free reign over his own magical education.
The fact that she didn't know concerned her.
"I'm just gonna leave these here." She patted the stack of books. "Its four hours until your bedtime. It's up to you what you choose to do with that time, but it's a school night, so we will not being going out and throwing spells around for no good reason."
"That's not actually what I asked for, but okay." The boy nodded. "You won't take me out to practice real magic, and I've got another dozen books to make my eyes tired."
Gwendolyn crossed her arm over her chest, glaring down at her son with the full authority of her 'maternal gaze'. "Make sure your real homework for school is done before you go to bed. I won't have your realeducation falling behind because sorcery is your new hyper-fixation of the month."
"Of course, Mom." Groaned the boy.
He didn't bother arguing with her that this wasn't a 'flavor of the week' hyper-fixation. It was a fixation because he knew it was not only possible, but his destiny. But explaining that would involve explaining to his mother that he'd been to the future, that he'd already seen it. If Mom took issue with him learning to wield magic instead of just studying it in books and theory, then she would definitelytake issue with his traveling through time and fighting deadly battles that hadn't even happened yet.
She stayed a moment longer, regarding her son critically. She wanted to make sure he understood how serious she was.
Devlin understood. She lost him once when he was very, very young. Of course, she would be worried about anything happening to him again. He might be hyper-fixated, but she was hyper-sensitive. There was no need to worry. Osmosians were adaptable, and Devlin was scrappy. He would be fine.
Finally, she had to accept that that was the best she was going to get out of Kevin Levin's son, and left.
Devlin listened to her footsteps outside. Waited until he heard her on the stairs. Then the first floor. The door to her home office open and close again. When he was sure that his mother was occupied by her own projects and endeavors, he pulled his notebook back to him and studied the drawings and designs he's made in the margins. Designs for his masked avenger uniform.
Kenny, with his Spanner persona and sentai aesthetic, favored bright colors. Mostly white, with splashes of green. Devlin subscribed to a darker, less juvenile aesthetic. Tight, like Spanner's uniform was tight. But predominantly black. More of a cat-suit than a sentai suit. With bright violet for accents, the same color as mana. To hide his identity, a domino mask. Black like the rest of the suit. Devlin studied the drawings and sketches he'd made, then turned his attention to his reflection in his closet mirror.
He rubbed the tips of his fingers together. The Osmosian didn't have much mana left in him from his last session with Bezel.
Standing from his desk chair, the boy crossed the room to his bedside table. Opening a drawer, he took out a brand new package of D batteries. Taking each out, one at a time, the Osmosian absorbed the energy that was in them. Holding it in his hand, syphoning it into himself, and converting it into mana. When all batteries in the package were eaten, Devlin turned his attention back to the mirror.
Facing front, one hand on his hips, he studied the dark turtleneck and blue cardigan he wore. Not very hero'ish.
Raising one hand above his head, eyes glowing star sapphire with violet light, Devlin called on the power he'd just absorbed. Picturing in his mind's eye his hero uniform. The tight black bodysuit that fit like a second skin. Violet accents. Good boots for running after universe-threatening villains, or fighting on mixed terrain. Gloves for hiding his fingerprints, or protecting his hands when punching bag guys, or grasping at sharp rocky ledges. Most importantly of all, the mask. The mask to hide his identity. Spanner hid his identity, it was only right for his partner, Bad Luck, to hide his.
Blinking, the Osmosian opened his eyes and beheld his work. The results of his magical boy transformation.
The domino mask was there, covering the top half of his face. From eyebrows to cheekbones. The eye-sockets glowing with the same star sapphire power of his mana. His lips and chin were exposed. Below that was a high collar, hugging his throat. Two lines of accent color –also glowing- followed the veins of his jugulars down to the collarbone where they intersected with an upside-down crescent on his chest. Inside the crescent was the number eleven –although that had not been part of his original design. Then again, eleven did seem to be the lucky number of his family, so why not? Accent lines ran from his shoulders down his arms to end in stripes on only his index and middle fingers. Devlin held up a hand, examining the finger-stripes, deciding he liked them even if they weren't really part of his original concept either. There was always room for interpretation in magic.
But overall, he liked it. It would do.
Devlin listened carefully one more time, just to make sure his mother was occupied. Then he took his new masked avenger look and slipped out his bedroom window. The best way to learn anything was hands-on practice. Not sitting at home and reading books on theory.
…
Most masked avengers start small. Purse snatchers and muggers. Friendly neighborhood superhero stuff.
But Devlin had already traveled through time, seen the end of the world, looked upon a broken sky, and fought in a battle to tip the scales of that fate. So, maybe a little bit of stopping purse snatchers and muggings were an ill-use of his time. Weak tea with not a lot of experience to be gained.
However, he wasn't out looking to gain experience and better improve his skills as one of the many heroes of the universe. He was out to test his new powers. One couldn't take new powers into a battle for the fate of the future if one didn't understand said powers. Purse snatchers and muggers were perfect for that.
Devlin skirted the edges of the park.
It was a weeknight, so there weren't many people out. No lovers strolling through the paths. No teenagers sneaking beers out of the house to get drunk where their parents couldn't see. No parents out late, letting their child burn out the last of their hyper-energy before bed.
But there were a number of businesses on the edge of the park. Restaurants serving those who worked late, or were too tired to cook after a long day. Bars for those that needed a stiff drink after a long day. People who were eating or drinking were people who were distracted. People who were distracted were people who were easy targets for pick-pockets or purse snatchers.
It had been a long time since the Osmosian had run in circles with pickpockets and bag snatchers. Not since his father was still Kevin 11,000. But he knew what to look for.
Find a mark first, then you'll find a picker casing said mark.
A man with a few too many drinks in him already. He was walking out of a bar with his wallet half hanging out of his back pocket, his attention on his phone as he called a Lyft. A woman wearing a pants suit and kitten-pump heels eating alone in the outdoor seating area of one of the restaurants, her purse hanging off one of the railing posts instead of her own chair. Both excellent marks.
Devlin turned his attention to the open sidewalk, now studying the passersby.
A teenager with a dog. An evening jogger in too-tight men's yoga-pants. A hipster in a kilt, riding a unicycle, playing the bagpipes. Bellwood was a weird city.
Then Devlin saw his snatcher.
Wearing dark jeans and good running shoes. A black hoodie with the hood up over his head, hiding his face. Hands in his pockets. Already walking at a fairly quick pace. He passed the drunk outside the bar without incident. But as he came to the restaurant patio railing, his hand darted out from his pocket. Grabbing the purse by its strap and yanking it off the post. He took off running.
The woman dropped her fork, in shock of what just happened.
"Wha-!? Hey! Stop!" She started shouting when her mind finally processed what her eyes told her. "That man stole my purse!"
Devlin was already moving.
Running through the air, making footholds out of rods of mana. Rods instead of panels because he still hadn't yet figured out how to flatten the power yet. But that's what tonight was all about. Practice.
The snatcher ran in a straight line into the park, thinking the trees would hide him. But that also meant that the theif had to run over uneven ground, trying not to trip on hidden rocks or sprinkler heads. Devlin, on the other hand, was running through the air and could control the level, texture, and terrain of his footing. The Osmosian caught up to the snatcher easily.
Jumping down, he tackled the thief and pinned him to the ground.
The thief was a normal human, easily subdued by one with extra-human strength and magical powers.
One of his rods of mana, Devlin tried bending into rings to use as cuffs. It took a couple of tries and the thief tried to wriggle free more than once. But finally, the Osmosian succeeded in manipulating his power enough to make it a crude wrist binding. Now cuffed, Devlin kicked the stolen purse out of the other man's reach, then moved to searching the body.
His pockets were full of loose cash, watches, pieces of jewelry, and other similar small but valuable objects that could be sold for cash at any pawn shop or second-hand store. The thief had apparently been busy tonight, and it wasn't even eight PM yet!
"Hey, should I be reading you your Miranda Rights, or something?" Devlin asked.
"I donno, man!" Groaned the thief. "You even a cop?"
That was about the time the real cops showed up. Two humans, and a Kraaho wearing a BPD parka. They came up short when they saw the perp already apprehended by a guy dressed all in black wearing a mask.
"Police! Freeze!" The two humans pulled out ordinary, standard issues, terrestrial guns.
The Kraaho did not. He gave Devlin in his black cat-suit and domino mask an appraising look. Noting the glowing lines accenting the contours of his muscles, and the stripes going from shoulders to finger-tips. Normal earthling clothing did not glow like that. Chances were, this masked vigilantly was –if not actually a full alien- then at least extra-human in some way. Normal guns were probably not the way to go.
"It's all good." The masked vigilante assured them, climbing off the thief, his hands in the air, more like waving off allies than saying 'don't shoot'. "I caught the bad guy. But you probably wanna get some of your own cuffs on him. Pretty sure you guys won't be able to get those mana cuffs off him without me."
It was then that they noticed that the bindings of thief's hands were glowing like the vigilante's costume. A strange bright violet.
"You an alien?" Asked one of the human police officers.
"No." The masked vigilante shook his head. "Oh! But I should mention, I do know Ben 10,000 personally."
Considering the fact that he was in the middle of Bellwood, just took down a thief, and somehow was glowing in the dark, that could probably be true. Her certainly seemed to fit the general theme of 'people who knew Ben 10,000 personally', that is to say: weird. But none of them had ever seen a guy dressed as a Pink Lantern with a Nightwing mask work with Ben 10,000. Even if this guy wasn't officially a Plumber, if he worked with the Plumbers or Ben 10,000 they would have sent a memo. They might preform two different services, but the Plumbers and the Police were both law enforcement agencies and needed to communicate with each other.
"Okay, buddy, we're gonna need you to come with us." The Kraaho took a step forward. Somehow managing to both approach Devlin, and yet still stay out of the direct line of fire of his companions' guns that were still out and up.
The masked vigilante shook his head. "Sorry, but getting arrested wasn't on my To Do list tonight. I gotta be home by eleven."
Raising one hand above his head, a ball of light collected in the vigilante's hand. It got brighter and brighter until it was almost blinding. Then it burst. Light flooding the park. All four of the other, the three police and the thief had to shield their eyes from the glare.
When the park was dark again and they were all blinking spots from their vision, the vigilante was gone.
"Do you see him!?" Asked one of the human cops, his gun hanging ineffectually at his side while he massaged his eyes with the heel of his other hand.
"I don't see anything!" Said the second human cop.
The Kraaho officer, meanwhile, was squinting hard in the dark. Kneeling over the second perp to make sure the thief was cuffed with real police cuffs so that they didn't lose both perps in the confusion.
"Don't feel bad, boys!" Said a voice from somewhere above the trees. They squinted up to see bright star sapphire lines, like stairs, illuminating the darkness. And if they peered really, really hard, the glowing figure of a man in a tight black jumpsuit running between them. "You've just run into some Bad Luck!"
…