Ohs no, I have done the thing that all other authors do and waste an entire chapter on an announcement. Truly, I am the biggest of evils. Strike me down where I stand! Oh bless me father, for I have sinned. No, really! I'm not kidding here! big sinner. Yup!
Ah, but enough dilly dallying with dated video game references no one will get. Let's get down to the big meaty and juicy reason as to why we are all here. Let's list off what I'm not doing first:
Am I putting ACH on hiatus: No
Am I abandoning ACH: Fuck no, you fucking donkey
With that settled, let's get into they why before we get into the what. So, if you're on the discord server I'm in (Of Fiction and Fuckups, yes I know it's a different one just roll with it (discord. gg/ rjnjcNev)) then you already know why there isn't another chapter out at the moment. It's because I've been working on a different project, one which is an entirely original work and as such not shareable on Fanfiction. I mean, QQ would let me do it, but I'd rather do both platforms than just one, so sucks to be you guys, I guess. As for what this project is, well I don't have a name for it actually. That's still a WIP. But I was paroling the RWBY fiction archives on FF, a terrible idea I know, and I found one that was supposed to be about a superhero AU thing. Now, I'm a sucker for superheroes. So I gave the one chapter long story a read.
After I finished, the disappointment I felt had been immeasurable and my day had been ruined. "I could do so much better than that," I thought. And then it hit me like a brick covered in lemon juice. I write. I make mad scribbles with my keyboard and somehow form words out of it. People like monkeys and typewriters. I could totally write this.
And so I did, and I am. Yes I'm aware Shiro is writing a supervillain story, but shut up this is different.
So yeah. I started writing a superhero thing because I love comics (despite how dumb they are) and in general, I love superheroes. I think that's a universal thing though. Everyone loves superheroes. Everyone loves the idea of a world where Spider-Man, Batman, Superman, and Spider-Man again (The true GOAT of Superheroes. Fuck you Comicbook dot com! Saying Wonder Woman is more popular than Spider-Man. What crack were you smoking?!) all exist. I'll give you a second to reread and figure out what I was saying. Good? Great. Anyway, if what I just said doesn't make your dicks (or clits) harder than a fucking diamond, than clearly you have erectile dysfunction and should go see a doctor about euthanasia.
So, what does this mean for ACH? Well, I'm still gonna write chapters for it. I'll just stop sticking to my praiseworthy schedule and just release whenever I'm done with the chapter. Almost like a real fanfiction author.
"Oh Hoonter, " you weep like the uneducated and unappreciative masses that you are. "That's all well and good, bit are you really going to waste an entire chapter on telling us that there is no chapter?" Fucking fine, if you're going to be whiny about it, I guess you can have the first two chapters that I have done for the superhero thing. Because I'm a generous Hoonter. So enjoy. That was not a request. I am not giving you an option. Enjoy or die.
-Chapter 1-
"Get out the fucking way you hippie!"
"It's a fucking bike asshole! Doesn't mean I'm a hippie!"
The driver grumbled to himself, driving past me once I got out of his way. Though not before he honked his horn like eight times. Seriously, what a dick.
I sighed, adjusting the basket on my bike and making sure the computer tower was still in one piece. The fact that this thing was still holding on strong was a fucking miracle. I mean, not that I should be surprised. I did make the bike from scratch myself. Cost way more than it should have, but I have it.
Making a sharp right, I rode my way down Craven Street. Move to New York I thought. It'll be fine I thought. Damn it Darius, you had one fucking job. Find a place to settle down, and make something of yourself. Well, the only thing I've made myself is a fool. How was I supposed to know that the superhero drought would fuck up the economy? I mean, it's obvious in hindsight, but I didn't exactly think about that.
But yeah. Drought of heroes, sudden influx of villains taking advantage of it, and now the city is about to enter a fucking depression. On the bright side, at least there are slums. Good place to stay if you're poor and don't have too many standards. And I fit both of those perfectly. And that's what led me to here, riding my bike out of my place in Hunts Point and heading over to Stonemason's. A perfectly average day.
You have grown accepting of your substandard lifestyle.
Don't you even start. You're the reason I'm in this situation to begin with, you dick.
I don't see how I am responsible for any of that. After all, I am simply a shard of your mind. I am you. You are me.
Ugh, you bring that up every other day. And it doesn't make any more sense, no matter how many times you say it. why don't you just give a straight answer for once? Really, it would save a lot of time.
We both know that my memory is incomplete. My knowledge on our powers and circumstances are no greater than your own.
I'd believe you if you weren't so cryptic about everything. Not that it matters right now anyway, since I'm already here.
Lifting a leg over my bike, I leaned it against a lamp post and chained it to the post. There we go. Now that should at the very least, slow any would be bike thieves down a bit while I get this thing to Mason. I reached int the bikes basket, heaving the tower out of it and walking up to the door. Right, how am I going to do this? I could put the tower on the ground and open it that way, but that would be admitting defeat. Maybe if I lean against the wall and hold the tower in hand? Yeah, that should-
The door in front of me opened, revealing Mason in all his seven-foot glory. Dude was a fucking giant, though I suppose that's understandable considering his whole ex-hero thing. Either way, he cut an intimidating sight as he stared down at me and frowned. "You're late boy."
Ah, shit. I knew I should have left home earlier. "Ah, well, you see Mason, there was this guy, right? And he almost ran me over and stuff, so I needed to- "
"I care not for your excuses. Come inside and bring the tower in."
He stood to the side, keeping the door open as I walked in. Shifting to the right, I shimmied past his hulking form and stumbled my way to the front counter. The tower in my arms was gently placed onto the counter and I stepped to the side as Mason walked over and began to test it out.
He connected it to a monitor, and plugged it in to the outlet on the wall. The screen booted up, loading quickly and dropping Mason to the sign in page. His head turned to me, and he gestured to the screen. Ah, right. He needs the password. "It's uh… well it's Cockmongler69… I thought it was funny."
His eyes didn't leave my face, staring at me as he slowly typed the password into the sign in box. The sheer judgment and disapproval on his face was enough to make me shrink in on myself, though I couldn't bring myself to break eye contact.
Finally, he looked back towards the screen and hit the enter key. The classic Windows 10 default background popped up, and all of the apps were in the default state. Mason hummed, going through the apps and checking to make sure each one was working properly, before he paused. "Boy, what is this?"
Eh? I leaned over his shoulder, looking down at the screen to where his cursor was hovering. Oh shit, I was supposed to delete that program before delivering the tower. Fuck, this is like the fourth time I've done this!
"This better not be porn again boy."
My face ran hot, and I straightened my posture. "That was one time Mason! And no, it isn't porn."
Stepping back, I crossed my arms and took a deep breath in. This was kind of a hard thing to explain, since I'm technically not supposed to be doing this on a client's computer. But I mean, it's not like I could do this with my shitty laptop. No matter how much shit I cram into it, it'll always pale in comparison to a decent computer. Especially since my laptop was barely able to run DOOM when I first got it. And not the 2016 version, but the original DOOM.
Finally figuring out how to best explain this, I met Mason's gaze and began to give him the run down. "Well, basically, it's a program I made that helps detect issues in other programs. Things like viruses, bloating, and wrong file paths. Of course, it does a few other things, but that's a bit more complicated. It's a kitchen sink program that helps me with detecting stuff when working with a client's computer. Really makes my job easier."
He leaned back, looking between me and the computer almost questioningly. "Boy, you've been working here for less than a month. When did you make this?"
Has it really been less than a month? God, it feels like it's been ages. Leaning against the counter, I began to go through the month out loud. "let's see, I got the job on like the last day of September, and it's currently almost Halloween. That's about a month right there, and I started working on the program around early to mid-October. I finished it like last week, and I've done like three jobs since then. So yeah, it took me about half a week to a week to finish it."
Huh. Could've sworn it took longer. Maybe my powers make me really good at programming or something? Would be kind of lame, but I'll take it if it means that I might be able to actually do well here.
I highly doubt our powers are limited to just programming Darius.
Can you just, not? Like, every time you talk, I just get annoyed with how cryptic you are. You're really not the best at maintaining my positivity.
Mason hummed loudly again, catching my attention as he spoke up. "I see. That is certainly… impressive, to say the least. Most projects like that would take close to a year just to be finished. Boy, why do you not apply to a college?"
Oh, that. A frown crossed my lips as I registered his question. Truth be told, I've tried more than a handful of times. The only problem is how expensive it is. Not only that, but I didn't have a bank account or any sort of store of money. I'm living check to check on a good day, and even the best scholarships were still out of my price range. Especially since a lot of those scholarships are given to people who get powers that make them smarter or something like that. No way I would be able to compete with that. "It's just a bit too expensive if I'm going to be honest. Especially these days. Rent alone is killing me. I'm sure you understand where I'm coming from."
He grunted, turning his head to the side of the counter. Several stacks of papers lay there, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that those were bills and other costs. Kind of surprising that he even had to worry about that. You'd think a former superhero wouldn't need to worry about bills.
Silence blanketed the small store, growing like a cancer as neither of us knew what to say next. The sounds of driving cars rang out behind us, and the empty store felt small. Despite that, the silence wasn't all that unbearable. It meant that there wasn't another villain attack going on outside, and that the store won't be damaged from the older heroes being unable to work at the level they once did.
"Hmm, you did get work regardless boy. Here, your payment for the job. And a slight bonus for efficiency."
He handed me an envelope, cash inside it as always. The usual two hundred was there, as well as an additional fifty. Giving Mason a thankful smile, I made my way towards the door and waved at him. "Thanks Mason! I'll see you tomorrow for another job!"
I stuffed the envelope in my pocket, unchaining my bike and hopping on. Now that I finished that job, I was finally free to go out and get some groceries. Let's see, with this two fifty, I have about two thousand, four hundred and fifty bucks. Subtract rent and I have a nice and easy two fifty to spend on food and other amenities. I'm so glad I dropped my insurance, otherwise I wouldn't have had enough to actually get any food for the month. Just a few more months and I might have enough to leave this shithole and go somewhere new. Maybe I'll go down south? I heard that Florida has a free college program for people who have lived there for at least a year.
…
Ah, fucking sales taxes. The damned thing got bumped up by almost two percent! That might not sound like much, but considering the old tax was almost nine percent, well it's fucking bullshit. I had to pay almost eleven percent extra just for some cheap ass spaghetti. Last time I buy Chef Boyardee. Whatever, at least I had enough cans to last me the week. If I ration of course. I needed to spend some money on gallons of water, since the plumbing in my apartment is out. Not that the super is going to do anything about that, at least, not for free. And that fucker would try to rob me for that shit.
Grunting, I pushed my cart forward as I turned down a familiar alleyway. My apartment was near the end of the alleyway, right where there was a sort of crossroads between alleys. There was kind of a square in the center of them, almost acting like a concrete front yard. Except the size of a suburban kitchen and filled with trash.
Worst part was, I couldn't use my bike for this. The combination of the water and spaghetti cans was just too much for it to handle. So, I had to use this old shopping cart that I… found at the back of a Pathmark. Look, I'm gonna take what I can get, and it's not like those guys were gonna miss it anyway. At most some junkie teenager gets fired and has to work at a McDonalds or something. I wonder if that's a step up or down?
A rustling from behind me caught my attention, and I turned back to look at it just as a figure popped out from behind a garbage bin, gun in hand. "Step away from the cart fuckhead!"
…Right, looks like we're doing this again. Letting out a sigh, I crossed my arms and gave the guy a light glare. "Really Mikey? This is the second time this week you've confused me for someone else."
For his part, Mikey looked rather sheepish as he scratched the back of his head and running his fingers through his dirty blond hair. Putting the gun between his waistband and hips, he gave me a forced laugh. "Sorry 'bout that one D. The pickings have been a bit tight, ya feel me? Never woulda done it purposely man."
I snorted, relaxing as I leaned against my cart. Yeah, I figured. "I know Mikey, I know. You just have to be careful. You might stick up the wrong guy next time. I mean, what if you try to rob a hero? Or worse, a villain? With all the old timers retiring, and all the new heroes leaving the city, the streets are getting a lot more dangerous. I'd hate to have to break the news to Little Hess that her big brother died."
Mikey winced, looking down to his feet as he listened to me. "I know, I know. It's just, the boss is getting a bit more demanding these days. I gotta up my scores if I wanna scrape by."
My eyes flicked over towards his arm, where a green bandana was tied around it. "…Yeah, I know what you mean. Listen Mikey, are you sure this is safe? Desperation makes a man do crazy things, and I don't want to make my warnings a reality."
This time it was his turn to cords his arms. "Don't worry 'bout it D. You're kind of a new guy, so you don't get how things go down 'round these parts. The Greenskins are the strongest gang in Hunts Point, and probably one of the strongest gangs in the Bronx period. So long as I'm with them, me and my sis are safe."
I hummed lightly, the corners of my lips quirking up. "It's my "sis and I", Mikey."
He laughed, punching my shoulder slightly. "Fuckin' preppy ass dick."
Well, I couldn't exactly deny that to be honest. Not that I wanted to. Instead, I just shrugged. "One of us has to have some modicum of intelligence. Sure as hell isn't you."
Another punch to the shoulder, though this one was a little harder this time. Mikey's eyes gazed down toward my cart, and he frowned. "Let me guess, plumbin's out?"
Hm? Ah, he must've meant the gallons of water in my cart. "Yeah. Don't even know what's going on. Woke up this morning and suddenly none of my faucets worked. Couldn't even take a shower. I had to try and rub myself clean with dry soap and a soggy ass towel."
His expression soured, and his nose crinkled up. "Damn. Sounds fuckin' annoying. Say, I think Barbara is back in the corner. I can get ya a free night if you want?"
Barbara? Wait a minute, did he mean Pregnant Barbara? "Mikey, I am not going to have sex with a prostitute. Much less one named Pregnant Barbara. Fucks sake man."
A scoff escaped his lips, and he just leaned back and raised an eyebrow. "Don't gotta be so damn picky man. Besides, she ain't pregnant anymore. Think she gave in and got an abortion or something. Too bad. Gonna miss those milkers."
"Jesus fucking Christ on a stick Mikey."
He blinked, before raising his hands up defensively. "Hang on a sec, I was joking! I ain't that starved man. 'Sides, it was only a few times and I didn't even drink it that much. I don't got a milk fetish D!"
Yeah, I'm done with this conversation for now. I rolled my eyes, putting my hands back on my cart and pushing forward. "Whatever you say Mikey. Whatever you say. Make sure to tell Little Hess that Darius said hi!"
Glancing back, I watched as he waved at me, slinking back behind the garbage bin.
So… that was a thing. Not that I should be surprised. Mikey was always a bit weird. I mean, he joined a gang that might actually be an elaborate Warhammer 40K reference. Heh, that'd actually be kind of funny now that I think about it.
…
Don't you hate it when you forget something? Like, you've done your chores for the day, you're getting ready to head to bed for the night, and then something pops up in your head and you know you have to get it done? That's basically what happens to me. Just as I was about to call it quits for the day, I remembered that I had to pick up the newspaper earlier.
Normally I'd just wait till tomorrow, but tomorrow is Wednesday, which is when the new paper comes out. So, there are a few stores that sell the old papers at a discount the day before the new paper is released. Considering the fact that I'm kind of on a budget, and that the paper was basically my only means of keeping up with the world, and I really wanted to grab this one.
Is it a dangerous idea, leaving my apartment so close to night? Probably. But at the same time, I don't really think I care all that much. Life is just a series of risks, and if I want to get my early morning funny comics, then there is no way I'm not taking that risk. Also the actual news thing too, but that's less fun.
Your blasé stance on our life is mildly concerning.
You're like, half a year old. You don't get to complain.
I pedaled faster, riding my bike through the still busy street. The sun was beginning to set, so I'd have to be fast in order to make it to the store in time. Still, it was a good think I lived so close to a bodega. They should have what I need.
Cars honked, and drivers yelled as I cut my way through traffic, weaving in between cars. Making a hard left, I turned the corner and sped up. The bodega was in my sight, and I was close enough that I could almost taste the sandwiches.
Not today old friend.
Hitting the brakes, I hopped off my bike and ran up to the bodega's front door. My hand reached out, grasping the handle and giving it a firm twist.
The door was locked.
"Motherfucker!"
Groaning, I turned around and made my way back to my bike. Fuck. If this spot was closed, than the others were probably closed too. Damn it, so much for reading some Garfield in the morning. Maybe I still have an old paper lying around?
The seat of my bike creaked slightly as I sat down, but it held strong. Getting my feet on the pedals, I began to ride back home. Well, at least I managed to get the excercise in. If that's a good enough consolation prize.
Well, at least now I'll have more time in the morning before I head back to Mason's shop to pick up some more work. Damn it, I really hope I remembered to clean my spoon today. I kind of only have the one right now. Ah, whatever. It's spaghetti stains anyway. Considering my diet is going to be almost entirely comprised of Chef Boyardee for the foreseeable future, it's not like I have to really worry about mixing the food.
All I have to do is polish it off a bit, and it'll be good. Shit, do I have any plastic wrap left? I only ever eat half the can before putting it away for later, and I kind of need the wrap in order to make sure no bugs get to it. Ah screw it, I'm sure I have some in the trash that I could-
The ground beneath me rumbled, and an explosion rang out from somewhere. I halted my pedaling immediately, stopping near the edge of the sidewalk to figure out where the explosion came from. It took a while, since it wasn't anywhere too close to me, but I soon found smoke. Shit, that's close to my apartment.
Of all the places for a villain attack to happen, why here? There is literally nothing interesting going on in Hunts Point other than the drugs. And the prostitutes. And the gangs. And the other illegal activities. But nothing worth attacking.
Whatever. So long as I can find a way around that whole mess, I should be fine. Turning around, I began to ride my bike back towards the bodega. Honestly, gotta love New York City block planning. All I have to do is go in a straight line and turn right as soon as I can.
And so I biked away from that craziness. To be completely fair, this sort of thing has happened enough times that I'm not really all that bothered by it. Oh sure, the first few times I was shitting bricks, but at this point it'd be weird if it didn'thappen somewhere. Let's just hope my place isn't wrecked by the time I get there. Finding a new apartment is going to be absolute hell if it is.
I made a right, following the road down the surprisingly empty street. Huh. There were just cars lying abandoned in the middle of the road. That's kind of weird. Did I miss something? Was I supposed to-
A blur crashed in the middle of the road, and I panicked. I tried to make a quick turn, but the maneuver was too intense and my bike tilted over. I tumbled to the ground, rolling onto my elbows as I tried to get my bearings. Oh shit. I need to find a spot to hide. My eyes scanned the street, before landing on a nearby car.
I wasted no time, keeping my head low as I ran over and hid behind the car. I was covered by the car, keeping my from being seen from the powered individuals duking it out. My body stuck against the car like glue, and I kept my head down as I listened in on the exchange between the hero and villain.
"G-Give that purse back you fiend!"
"It's literally an old woman's purse girly! She ain't gonna miss it! 'Sides, you're had dead anyway!"
They clashed once more, the sounds of blows being exchanged echoing throughout the street. Suddenly, a loud and feminine scream could be heard, which had followed the wet squelching of what was possibly something tearing into flesh. A sound loud crash could be heard, and a deep chuckle echoed out from behind him.
"You're a bit too green girly. A shame too, you would've been a decent hero in time. Ah well, best to bounce before an actual hero gets wind of this."
From the corner of my eye, I could see what looked to be some strange bipedal animal leaping away from the fight, and landing on a nearby building. Huh. That was… fast. Weren't most superpower punch ups supposed to be a bit longer? And more destructive?
I took a deep breath in, and slowly peeled myself off the car. My hands gripped the hood of the car, and my eyes peered over the top. My breath caught in my throat. Jesus Christ.
The hero, what looked to be a young woman, was in a small crater. Her body was beaten and broken, and I could easily see blood all over her. Oh damn. She is so fucking dead right now. That is a dead lady right there. Time to leave now.
I crawled out of my hiding spot, cautiously standing up. Once I was sure nothing was gonna jump me, I made my way to my bike and stood it up. My hands shook as I tried to get on the bike, which ended up making it even harder to mount it. The bike was shaking along with my hands, and the rest of me wasn't much better. Okay, take a deep breath Darius. You just gotta mosey on over to your apartment and go the fuck to sleep. Easy peasy, lemon squee-
"Uuggghhh…"
My head turned sharply to the noise, and my heart began to pound once I realized what it was. The hero, she was alive somehow. Her breathing was slow, and her body was barely twitching, but she was alive.
A million thoughts raced through my head. What the hell do I do? What the hell could I do? I wasn't anywhere near a hospital, and I didn't even know where one was. The police wouldn't arrive fast enough to save her. Could I really just leave her here? Should I?
It is for the best that you retreat. Her life was forfeit the moment she made the mistake of challenging someone better than her.
That snapped me back to the situation. A sudden sense of anger rolled over me as I processed the voice's words. The fuck do you mean leave her here?! She's fucking dying!
Indeed she is. But we have neither the resources nor ability to save her. Besides, even if we did, we have no incentive to do so. The life of a fool is of no concern to us.
…No. No, I know some first aid. I have a first aid kit back at my apartment. It's not too far from here. I could make it.
That is a terrible idea Darius. The wound is too severe to heal with mere first aid. Not only that, but- wait, why are you walking toward her?
Because, dick, I'm not that much of an asshole as to willingly leave someone to die.
I knelt down, pushing down my nervousness as I gently lifted her up in my arms. Now that I had a closer look, I could see a fairly deep wound in her stomach, one that was leaking out blood rather badly. Damn it. She wasn't going to last much longer like this. I needed to hurry.
It seems we're doing this now. Right, you won't be able to use your bike. Not like this. You'll run the risk of aggravating her injuries, and that's if you manage to find a way to ride on it with her. You'd best start running.
I wasn't willing to test his statement, and instead just booked it towards my apartment. If I'm fast enough, I could cut through a few alleyways and make it there in five minutes. They're a bit narrow, and not something I'd use on a bike, but so long as I can maneuver myself correctly, I should be able to squeeze through.
I looked down again, and I bit the inside of my mouth. I really don't want to have a person die in my apartment. That'd be kind of hard to defend. And clean up.
Among other things.
…
I do believe she is losing quite the amount of blood.
"Oh geez, if only I could've seen that! It's not like there's a huge ass wound with blood spurting out of it or something!"
Sarcasm is unbecoming of you Darius.
"I am the sarcasm!"
You know, I thought that my least favorite part of New York was the taxes. But now? Now it had to be the superpower punch ups. Especially when they led to random women bleeding out all over my shitty pull out couch.
There is no one other than me here Darius. Who are you taking to?
"Shut up, I'm stressed!"
The woman was lying on my pull-out couch, bleeding all over the old cushions. I had never been so grateful for my shitty apartment, since it made finding my first aid kit a breeze. Just two steps to the left and bingo, storage closet sized bathroom.
Right, okay. Remember your first aid course Darius. First, apply pressure to the wound with some gauze.
I tore the bright superhero costume off her stomach, gagging as I saw meat and blood ooze from the wound. Oh fuck, this why I didn't want to be a doctor.
Placing the gauze on her stomach, I began to apply pressure on the wound. The green and white fabric of her costume began to darken as the blood spread throughout it, despite my best efforts to stop it.
The wound is likely internal as well. She will die.
"Well then why don't you get off your ass and help me?!"
You know I cannot. My knowledge on our powers is just as limited as your own.
"Useless ass superpowers!"
I put more pressure on the wound, gritting my teeth as the blood soaked through the gauze and began to leak out. Come on! I've wasted this much time on you already, so don't you dare die on me now! Don't be a selfish cunt and choose the easy way out!
I do believe that mentally calling her a cunt is not the best way to do this.
"It'd be nice if you, for once, had some fucking positive Reinforcement!"
No sooner had I said those words did my hands begin to glow a dark blue. I was about to panic, but then I noticed her flesh begin to knit itself back together. The wound... it was closing. No, her body was healing. I... I was healing her.
I abandoned the gauze, placing my hands on her stomach. The wound began to heal faster, the skin on skin contact boosting its speed. Somehow, I was healing her. I was saving her life. Holy shit. I thought I could only make pipes better.
Finally, after what felt like hours, her wound closed up fully, leaving only a scar. I fell back, panting as a sudden wave of exhaustion hit me. Idly, I noticed her chest begin to rise and fall more frequently. I then further realized that I had ripped a bit more than her stomach, and that her bra was fully revealed. Jesus Christ, she's kind of stacked. God damn.
Pushing my shame to the side, I got up and grabbed my hoodie from a nearby chair. Spreading it out, I gently covered the girl and adjusted her position a bit.
I paused, taking a look at her face. A green domino mask covered her face, but it was still easy to tell what she looked like. She was cute, in an almost puppy-like way. Brown hair framing her face gently, a single lock of it sticking out almost comically. In any other circumstance, I'd probably be trying to hit on her. Though considering her unconscious state, that'd be a bit weird.
Holy fuck I'm perving on an unconscious woman after taking her to my apartment and ripping her clothes. I think I'm done for the day.
Taking a step back, I cursed slightly as I bumped into my kitchenette. Right, cheapest place I could find with the square footage of a medium sized school bathroom. Can't forget that.
I sighed, making my way to the bathroom and hopping inside the tub. It was gonna be uncomfortable as all hell, but fuck it. Not gonna wake the sleeping beauty on my couch just so that I could kick her out. Instead, I closed my eyes and groaned as sleep refused to come to me.
This is gonna be a long night.
-Chapter 2-
My eyes cracked open, and I groaned. Sleeping in a bathtub was not very conducive for a good nights sleep apparently. Who would've guessed? Ugh, my neck is fucking killing me right now.
It should be obvious that sleeping in a bathtub would result in neck and back pains.
You know what? I'm not even going to bother explaining it to you. Even if I did manage to properly convey what I meant, you'd still call my sarcasm unnecessary. I just don't need that negativity in my life right now.
But it is true. You are far too sarcastic Darius. It is difficult to tell if you are being serious or not at this point.
Aren't you in my head? Shouldn't you always understand when I'm being sarcastic?
It does not work that way Darius. I can hear your surface thoughts, but anything else alludes me at the moment.
…This makes no god damn sense. Apparently, the voice in my head can't figure out what's going on in my head. Yeah, no, if I follow the fucking adventure game logic behind that, it almost makes sense. I am way too tired for this shit right now.
Crawling out of the bathtub, I hissed as my sore limbs were forced to move after being cramped in the tub for hours on end. I took a single half step forward, flicking on the lights. The sickly glow of the lightbulb assaults my eyes, making them sting. Blinking away the discomfort in my eyes, I gave myself a once over in the sink mirror.
My normally tanned skin was looking a bit paler than normal, though that could've just been the shit sleep I had. My dark brown eyes were bloodshot, and I could see the slightest hints of dark circles under my eyes. My hair hung low, bangs covering part of my eyes as I hunched over the sink. My beard was unkept as well, having grown past a heavy stubble.
Haggard. That was the only word that I could use to describe myself at this moment. I was twenty-three, yet I looked ten years older than I should. It didn't help that my cheeks were a bit gaunt. I guess a diet composed of water and canned spaghetti isn't really doing much for my health. God damn it. I've really hit the shit haven't I?
I tore myself away from the mirror, closing my eyes and letting out a deep breath. It doesn't matter how badly you look right now. Just carry yourself with confidence, and you shouldn't have any problems. Back straight, held up high, chest puffed. You may not have much right now, but you've got your pride god damn it.
Leaving the bathroom, my eyes immediately landed on the woman passed out on my pull-out. Thankfully, she was a quiet sleeper, so I wouldn't have to worry about dealing with her snoring. I walked a few steps forward, tilting my head to get a better view of my analog clock. Huh, it was only six fifteen. Well, guess that's a good enough time to wake up.
My hand stretched forward, grasping my ratty hoodie and yanking it from her. She frowned, whining as the cold air hit her exposed stomach. Though she didn't wake up. Hmm. Do I go with the poking method? Nah, that'd be a bad idea. She might rip my arm off by accident. Superpowers and all that jazz. Cold water? Can't do that one either. Would be a waste of water, and I haven't frozen any ice cubes as of late.
Ah, I've got it.
Placing my pointer finger and thumb in my mouth, I gave a sharp whistle.
"Gah!"
She jumped up into a sitting position, throwing her fists forward as what looked to be tree bark covered her hands. After a moment of looking for an invisible enemy, her eyes finally landed on me. A beat passed. Our eyes just stared into one another, neither of us exactly sure what to do now. I settled for tilting my head, raising a single eyebrow at her.
The bark vanished from her hands just as quickly as it had been summoned. The situation must've fully dawned on her, as she immediately looked down to her stomach. Her hands brushed over the exposed area gently, tracing over the slight scar that had been left over. She seemed relatively blasé about the fact that the bottom of her bra was completely exposed, though that could just be the fact that she was more concerned about her previously life threatening wound.
"Thank you."
Hm? I looked back to her eyes, finding gratitude staring right back at me. Leaning back against the counts rod my kitchenette, I gave her a shrug. "Just doing my good deed for the day. Don't worry about it."
She frowned, looking down at her exposed stomach. "No, it's true. I'd probably be dead if it weren't for you. I kind of owe you my life now… uh, person. What's your name?"
Ah, damn it. Now she was going to try and make it up to me. That's going to be awkward. "Darius. No last name."
The woman blinked at that, looming mildly confused for a moment before moving on. "Nice to meet you Darius. My name is Emery. Emery Alder."
I nodded awkwardly, not really sure what to say next. My eyes quickly scanned the room for a new topic, before a lightbulb lit up in my brain. Hoodie in hand, I offered it to her. "Here, you can take my hoodie. Your costume is kind of trashed right now, and the last thing you need is for someone to mistake you for a prostitute."
"Excuse me?"
Eh? My eyebrows furrowed slightly. She looked kind of upset by that last bit. Not that I really understood why. I mean, with her torn clothes and colorful outfit, she definitely looked like one of those freaky kink type prostitutes. Like Pregnant Barbara, but less scuffed. "I'm just saying. It's a common enough thing here, so it's pretty likely that you'll get confused for one. Especially with that torn costume of yours."
Her momentary anger faded, only to be replaced with an embarrassed look. She must've finally noticed how damaged her costume was. There were tears all across it from her fight, including the one I had to make in order to get to her wound. Clearing her throat, she gently pushed my hoodies back towards me. "O-Oh, right. Er, hang on a second. I got this."
Her eyes closed, and her hands hovered over the tear in the stomach of her costume. Taking a deep breath in, her hands began to glow a soft forest green. What looked to be grass green from the edges of the tear, patching the hole and covering her up. The other tears in her costume began to do the same. It was kind of cool actually.
The glow from her hands faded, and she turned to face me once more. "And done! Thanks for waiting Darius. It just takes some time to concentrate on that sort of thing."
Makes sense. It looked like it would take some kind of effort. I just don't know what kind. I mean, other then the healing thing last night, I don't really know what my powers even are. "No problem Emery."
Something about what I just said must've sent her for a loop. Her face froze, and her smile grew forced. After a few moments of just staring forward creepily, she covered her face with her hands and groaned loudly. "I just told you my secret identity. That's supposed to be a secret! It's literally called a secret identity! Ugh, this is the worst first day as a hero ever!"
Technically, it's past the first day. But I knew what she meant, so I guess it doesn't matter. "Hm? Oh yeah. Yeah, you screwed the pooch on that one. You should work on that for future reference."
She groaned again, before pulling her hands away from face. The sheer frustration on her face was almost comical, and the way she glared at the air just made it even better. Not that I laughed that much of course. No, I just chuckled to myself and quickly worked to mask the sound with a question. "So, what are you gonna do now, Stranger Whose Name is a Total Mystery?"
A smile ghosted her lips, and she seemed to relax slightly. "Well, I should probably head back home. Mom and dad are gonna kill me once they find out what happened."
…Oh shit, how old is this woman? I just assumed she was older since, well, you know, her rather prodigious developments. She looked to be in her early twenties. "Uh, how old are you exactly? I just want to make sure I'm not alone in a room with an underaged girl. That'd be kind of awkward."
Emery laughed, throwing her legs over the seat of the couch and standing up. She was actually kind of short, standing nearly a foot shorter than me. Her smile dropped slightly as she saw our height difference, but it was quickly replaced with grin as she extended her arm out. "You don't need to worry about that one. I just turned twenty-one not that long ago. So uh, you're in the clear there."
Grasping her outstretched hand, I gave it a good shake. Her grip tightened on my hand as our hands touched, and I bit the inside of my cheek. Holy fuck, she's strong as all hell. "Awesome. So, the door's just a bit behind me. We're on the ground floor, so all yo unwed to do is take a right when you're leaving and you should see the lobby. Then, you can try and sneak out the best you can and head back home. Just, try not to get seen by anyone? I really don't need that kind of attention, no offense."
Her head tilted slightly, probably looking behind me for the door. She hummed, turning back to me. "Sure, but I still kind of owe you one. Even if you ask me not to, I can't just leave without paying you back somehow."
Er, right. I shifted awkwardly on my feet, not really sure what to say. I'm not exactly comfortable with the whole, "I owe you my life" thing. Even if I'm the one whose benefiting from it.
Well, we do need some better nutrition. Now that our powers are finally beginning to truly manifest, we will need to train our bodies in order to better utilize them. As such, proper some sustenance will go a long way.
Huh. Well, I was a bit tired of eating canned spaghetti every day. "Right. Well, there's this bodega not too far from here, about three blocks away. I could definitely go for a Hungryman right about now."
She mouthed the word bodega to herself, before shrugging. "Sure thing! Can you text me the direction though? I kind of want to get home first."
Ah. That might be a slight issue actually. "So uh, cool story. I don't actually own a phone. They're a bit too expensive for my tastes, and getting internet is just way to much money for me to care about the whole thing. If I need internet, I can go to a juice bar down by Manida Street. They usually let me work there."
"Oh. Well… do you have a piece of paper then? Maybe write it down?"
Uh, shit. Do I? I gave a quick glance back at my kitchenette, spotting a few unused napkins on the counter. Taking out a pen from my pocket, I quickly scribbled the bodega's address onto the napkin before handing it to her. "Here you go. I don't know how long you'll take, flying and all that, so I guess I'll meet you there by ten or something? Yeah, they should be open by then."
She took the napkin, giving the contents a quick once over before smiling. "Sure thing Darius. So I'll uh, I'll see you later?"
It was a bit awkward, and her slow wave didn't really help. But I wasn't going to bother with it. I mean, she was going to buy me a sandwich later. Not gonna bite the hand that feeds you and all that. "Sure thing. I'll be eagerly awaiting that sandwich."
With a pep in her step, Emery made her way to the door, looking back and giving me another wave. It was kind of uncomfortable, since neither of us really knew how to end the conversation. But she seemed to ignore it just fine, even as she opened the door and stepped out, leaving me alone in my apartment.
So… that was a thing. I really hope she doesn't skimp out on the sandwich thing and leave me to dry. I've kind of gotten hyped for that sandwich, not gonna lie.
Indeed. Though we have more important issues to focus on. The power we were able to utilize in order to save her life. We must test it.
Well, I guess. But how are we even going to- oh you asshole. You want me to test it on myself, don't you?
That would be for the best. That we, we are able to gain a better understanding of how it works.
This is going to hurt. I reached into my back jean pocket and pulled out an old switchblade. Well, old in the sense that it's been with me for a long time. Not that you'd be able to tell, since it's one of the few things that I keep in immaculate shape. It wasn't anything special either. Just a random switchblade I had bought at a store a few years back.
Now only one question remained. Where the hell should I stab? Should I go for the thigh? That's probably a pretty safe spot to go for. I mean, there's probably a bit more meat there than on say, my arm or hand.
I disagree. You should go for your palm. Stab into it, and attempt to pierce the bone.
Uh, the fuck? There is no way I'm doing that. I mean, stabbing myself is one thing, but choosing a spot that will make my job a living hell to do? No thank you. I kind of need my hand in order to type effectively.
The previous night, you were in emotional distress. Clearly, we need to evoke a similar feeling in order to better our chances of activating this power of ours.
…Damn it. That's actually a decent point. I stared down at the knife in my hand, sucking in a breath through my teeth. Reversing my grip on the switchblade, I gulped as I reared my arm back. My hands shook, and my mouth felt dry as I psyched myself up for this. Alright. It's just a single stab. All I gotta do is thrust my hand down, and poke my palm. With a really, really sharp blade. Okay. On the count of three. One, two… three!
I thrust my hand downwards, wincing prematurely and closing my eyes just as the knife was about to make contact with my hand. A moment passed, before I realized that I couldn't feel any pain. Cracking an eye open, I looked down towards my open palm. Holy shit.
The blade had stopped, unable to pierce my skin. I had slammed the knife down as hard as I could, and yet nothing. It didn't even scratch me. What the hell?
Fascinating. It seems that we miscalculated what our "healing" actually did. We did not heal the woman. We reinforced her body, and sped up her own healing. Which is what we're doing now, only instead of healing, we are reinforcing the durability of our hand.
Eh? How the hell do you know that? Seriously, for all we know, this could be a completely separate power.
I am simply looking at how our body's natural energy covered our hand. It is the same energy that healed Emery.
How the fuck are you watching my energy? What even are you doing? I'm so fucking confused.
Hm… think of it like this. You are unaware of your internal organs. You do not feel them, as your sense are physical. My senses, however, transcend that. I can see how your body is moving on a cellular level. I can feel the way your blood flows through your veins. Watching your energy, our energy, flow throughout your body? That is child's play.
There wasn't anything I could say to that. Out of all of the explanations possible, that was one I just couldn't expect. The voice… it could sense all of that? How? Why? What even was it?
No response. It stood quiet as question after question ran through my head. Eventually, I managed to calm down and think about what my this new discovery actually meant. Okay, so I can apparently reinforce things. It can act as healing, and as a general boost to my body. I also have a voice in my head that can read my body down to the cellular level. Ignoring how creepy that is, it can be pretty useful when trying to figure out how my powers are affecting me.
Putting the switchblade back into my pocket, I flexed my hand slightly. This feeling. It was like nothing else I had felt before. I couldn't barely find the words to describe it. Like, there was liquid fire in my veins. But without the severe burns. Just the warmth, and comfort. As well as some kind of excitement, and a slight hunger. I wanted to feel it again. These powers, they were finally beginning to reveal themselves to me. I was finally learning what I was destined to have. These powers… they were awesome.
And I couldn't wait to use them.
…
The mid-morning air felt great after spending the night in my bathroom. Even if the hustle and bustle of the city made waiting for Emery by the bodega a pain. People either mistook me for a homeless person, or assumed I was just a really risky prostitute who decided to try their luck during the day. Thankfully the latter was much less frequent than the former, but the fact that it happened more than once is what gets me.
Tapping my foot, I impulsively looked at my wrist for the time, before remembering that I didn't have a wristwatch anymore. Still, I must've been here for at least twenty minutes by now. Where the hell was she? I really want that sandwich.
A soft breeze brushed against my side, and I turned around to find Emery wearing a plain yellow dress with a green purse, standing behind a garbage bin in the alleyway. I could see what looked to be some kind of weird colorful wings sprouting from her back, though that soon vanished into her back as she gave me a sheepish grin. "Oh uh, hey Darius. Sorry I'm late! I'm not all that used to the whole city thing. Took me a while to find the place."
Guess she wasn't native to the city. Well, neither was I, but I've had time to get used to it over the past few months. "Don't worry about it. I half expected you to skimp out on me anyway, so the fact you showed up at all is fantastic. Now come on. I'm pretty excited about my sandwich, so let's get to it."
I led her to the front door, opening it for her and letting her go inside first. Taking a step inside and letting the door close behind me, I took a deep breath in. The smell of food assaulted my nose, the indecipherable scents melding together into a sort of hodgepodge of smells. A good one though. Something that made my shoulders relax as I thought about the sandwich I was about to consume.
"So uh, what exactly is a hungryman? I don't think I've ever had one."
Emery was staring up at a menu, narrowing her eyes as she tried to read the faded letters. Taking a step forward, I stood beside her and explained what it was. "Well, it depends on the place. But generally, it's a hero bread with bacon, eggs, sausage, cheese, and sometimes they even add hash browns in there. Though that's a rarity, and so far this is the place I've found that does it."
A soft "Ooh" escaped her lips before she marched up to the counter and waved for the guy's attention. "Hi! I would like two hungryman sandwiches please! Oh, with two colas too! You want a cola, right Darius?"
"Sure."
She nodded to the man behind the counter, and watched as he grabbed two pre-made sandwiches from behind him. He tapped a few buttons on the cash register, before looking towards Emery. "That'll be fifteen forty."
Fucking hell. Almost sixteen bucks for two sandwiches? I and so glad I'm not paying for this shit. Holding back a scoff, I crossed my arms as she pulled out a plain green wallet from her purse. Reaching into the wallet, she pulled out a twenty and handed it directly to him. "Keep the change good sir!"
Huh. That was probably the quickest exchange ever. Just wham, bam, thank you m'am. Good thing no one else is here yet. That would've been pretty annoying.
I let her exit first, waving the cashier goodbye as I left the store. I didn't get much of a chance to ask for my sandwich, as Emery grabbed my arm and pulled me back into the alley where she had come from. "Uh, Emery? Where exactly are we going? I don't think eating in an alleyway is a good idea."
She turned back, grinning as she stopped and pointed upward. "Well, I saw this cool building while I was flying here, and thought it would be a good place to relax while we eat!"
Oh. Wait, what. "Can you hold on for a sec- "
Her hand grasped the back of my hoodie, cutting me off. From her back, two colorful wings sprang forth. They looked almost like butterfly wings, only somehow more mesmerizing. They tensed, stretching back and pausing.
Ah man. This is gonna suck.
She took off, pulling me along with her as we took to the skies. My feet dangled in the air, and the buildings below me were looking smaller and smaller with each passing moment. The wind whipped across my face, ruffling my hair and making me squint.
Despite the terrifying circumstances, I felt… calm. The way we were flying through the air, untethered by gravity, it was freeing. It was almost like I could float forever, never worrying about the dangers of the world below. Faintly, I could hear the sounds of honking cars. Another traffic buildup it looked like.
"Ah ha! Found it! Get ready, we're about to go down!"
Before I could snark back with the fact that I hadn't been ready to go up, I could feel my stomach lurch as we began to descend. The world below began to grow larger, and the sounds of the city grew louder. It was a far less relaxing process then going up, as the pull of gravity combined with our downward motion made it feel like I was falling.
The feeling began to slow, as we softly touched down onto the ground. I tensed my legs slightly, taking a few experimental steps to get my footing back. Emery landed in front of me, her wings shrinking into her back and disappearing. The bag of food was still in her hand, and she smiled as she presented it to me. "So… are you a hungry man Darius?"
"…That was awful."
She snorted, handing me the bag and taking a seat on the ledge of the building. Following her example, I took a seat next to her and handed her a soda and sandwich. We untapped our sandwiches, biting into them and relishing in their flavors.
Oh yeah. This is the life. The way the cheese was melted, but not too runny. The warmth that came from being toasted, but not as extreme as a freshly toasted sandwich. The meat, slightly salty but not to the point where it detracted from the flavor. The eggs and the hash brown, which added a sort of substance to the sandwich in a way that complimented the slightly crunchy bread. I'm so glad they started making pre-made sandwiches. Otherwise I would have had to wait that much longer for them to make this.
"So uh, Darius. What's your story?"
I paused, swallowing the bit of sandwich that was in my mouth and turning to her. "…Is that seriously your starter question? What is my story? Really? A bit unimaginative, don't you think?"
A scowl crossed her face, and she tore into her sandwich. Swallowing the bite, she gave me a light glare. "What's so wrong with that? Do you want a different question or something?"
I shrugged noncommittally. "Eh, not really. I'm just saying, it might not be the best starter question. I mean, it's kind of like asking someone if they've had a good day. It doesn't really make the person think too much other than giving a basic, reflexive answer. But I'll answer it. I mean, may as well, right?"
Adjusting my position on the edge of the building, I let out a small sigh as I began to tell the abridged story of my life. "Let's see, I was raised in an orphanage in Connecticut. The orphanage was destroyed in a villain attack when I was sixteen, and I kind of wandered since then. Fast forward like seven years, and here I am. Came to New York a few months ago, and I can't say I'm loving it. I'm on the fence between trying to make something for myself here, and just saying fuck it and leaving to somewhere else. Maybe a place without income tax. What about you? What's your story?"
It wasn't exactly them most unique tale, and there were probably a lot of people who could tell a way more interesting story. That was probably why Emery just nodded, not pushing too much on the specifics. Instead, she gave her own story. "Well, I guess my life is a bit more normal. Or weird. Both? Anyway, I grew up on Long Island actually, in a nice house in Sagaponack."
Sagaponack? Christ on a stick, how rich was this girl? I mean, that's pretty much a place exclusive to celebrities. And Jimmy Fallon. Pushing those thoughts to the side, I focused back onto her story. "Anyway, my dad is actually a superhero. I got my powers from his side of the family, since he's a Floran. Which makes me half Floran, since my mom is a normal human. Not that she isn't cool or anything, since she's a police chief. In fact, that's how they met anyway."
Hmm, Floran. I raised a hand, politely interrupting her story. "Aren't Florans the living plant people who live in Canada? Does that make you part Canadian? Also, how do plants and humans breed? It doesn't make any sense. Shit, was that racist?"
She blinked, leaning back slightly and giving me a sheepish laugh. "Uh, in order? Yes, maybe, please never ask me that again, and I have no clue. Not that I mind."
Cracking open her can of soda, she took a long sip. Gulping it down, she continued on. "So yeah, I'm half Floran. When I was growing up, I always wanted to be like my dad. You know, being a superhero and saving the world and all that jazz. Finished high school, tried college, but it wasn't my thing so I dropped out. My powers actually came to me a few months ago. So I've been training with them since then. Not that it mattered yesterday."
I held a wince in, cracking open my own soda and taking a small sip. The memory of what happened last night was still fresh in my mind. Her near lifeless body limp in my arms as I rushed to my apartment, blood dripping down all over me. I shook my head of the memories, instead looking back to her. "…Right. That. If you don't mind me asking, what exactly were you doing out there? I'm assuming that was your first outing as a hero, but you seemed a bit… unprepared."
This time I couldn't hold in my wince as I looked at Emery. Her eyes dimmed slightly, and a slight frown found its way on her face. "Yeah, I was. It's just… with all that's been going on in the country right now, I wanted to make a difference. I mean, with the Superhero Drought screwing up just about everything, I wanted to try and do my part. Plus, the new Heroic Renaissance thing made me a bit antsy too."
That was a new one. Damn it, was it in the newspaper that I didn't get to buy? "Heroic Renaissance? I have no clue what that even is. So, so you mind telling me or something?"
Her previously lost enthusiasm came back with a vengeance, and she grinned happily as she explained it to me. "Well, apparently the government is going to try and revamp the entire hero system! There have been rumors about this for ages, but it's actually happening! No one really knows the specifics, but apparently they're going to scout some of the highest tiers of talent and recruit them into government sponsored teams. That's why I wanted to go out and do something. I was hoping to make a name for myself so that I might get recruited to the program. Not that I'll have a good shot at it now. My first ever outing as a superhero, and I screw it up and almost die. No way they're gonna want me."
Despite how down about herself she was, her demeanor was almost the complete opposite. She was shifting in her seat excitedly, finishing off her sandwich before grinning up at me. "Buuut, I have an awesome idea. So, you can heal people, right?"
Hm? That was kind of an odd question. Ah well, may as well answer truthfully. Not like she seems to be the type to abuse this sort of knowledge. "Well, in a sense. Really, I can reinforce people. So making them stronger, heal faster, and other things like that. I think. Truthfully, my powers are a bit new, so I'm still working them out."
If possible, her grin seemed to get wider. "That's even better! So, while I was getting ready earlier today, I had the greatest idea. What if we combined your cool healing powers, or reinforcement I suppose, with my awesome chlorokinesis? You could be my sidekick! Like, we became an iconic superhero duo! Kicking butt and taking names! What do you say, are you in or are you in?"
…What? No seriously, what in the world would give her the idea that I would ever even want to be a hero? I mean, risking life and limb for the benefit of a bunch of ungrateful assholes? No thank you. I'd much rather just do my thing. Sure, I like having powers, but there's no way I'm gonna do all that.
We should do it.
I nearly choked on the air. What the hell? Why do you want to do this? What the hell do we even gain from this?
It is simple. We need to train our powers, and the best way to do that is out in the field. A live fire test, if you will. Sure, we can train in a safe environment. But it will pale in comparison to what true conflict will be capable of. Do you not want to grow more powerful quickly?
I took another sip of my soda, trying to quench my suddenly dry throat. It… it made sense. I would grow a lot stronger than if I were to test myself in safer conditions. The sudden pull I felt earlier was back, only this time it was so much stronger. I wanted to get more powerful. I wanted more.
Taking a deep breath, I gave Emery a slow nod. "Fine. I'll help you. But only if you buy me more meals like this. Good food is expensive you know."
She bobbed her head almost immediately, grinning as she clapped her hands together. "Deal! Oh man, we are going to be the greatest superhero duo ever! Just you wait, it'll be Emery and Darius against the world, and we're gonna kick the world's butt! Well, after we get superhero names. And get you a costume. But either way, this is gonna be epic!"
Her excitement was infectious, and I couldn't help but feel myself get swept up in it. Raising my soda up slightly, I gave her a large grin. "Then to being awesome, and kicking ass."
She raised her can to mine, clinking them together. "Woo! I'll drink to that one!"
We took a large swig of our sodas, relishing in the moment. Just the two of us, drinking soda on the edge of a building after promising to be the greatest. You gotta wonder…
How the hell are we gonna pull that one off?
…
Indeed, that was just 10k words of inane bullshit. Glad you noticed. Yeah, because I'm lazy and don't feel like making entirely new characters, I'm obviously gonna reuse a few. Though let's called that "artistic freedom" and call it a day. Of course, there will be new characters in order to fill roles that the other characters won't be able to, and the characters that do show up will be slightly different, as their environment isn't the same as it was in ACH. In fact, there will be a shit ton of changes between the two, with new lore, powers, rules, and even more inane jokes that maybe two people will ever get! I finally get to make fun of America within a proper story! MY DREAM COME TRUE!
If this is something that piques your interest, why not come down to Of Fiction and Fuckups (discord. gg/ rjnjcNev (Also, if you are unable to join because of REASONS (we both know who you are), you can just DM me for it and I'll send you the doc file. Just don't post it anywhere else. Keep that shit private, like most shits. Yes I'm talking about bowel movements now, AND YOU CAN'T STOP ME!
I should get a therapist.
This has been A Decent Hoonter, ready to disappoint since my birth. OoOoh, edgy humor wowzers.