Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics, although I wish I did.
AN: Please review! This is my first fanfic that I've posted. Also, I'm sorry about the choppiness. I wrote this for Nanowrimo and I'm trying to edit it so that it's more readable than it used to be.
Chapter 1: Alan and Sylvia
"I can't believe this is our first day on the League!" Sylvia Thomas gushed to her best friend Alan. Sylvia was a young African-American teen around sixteen years old. Her long-braids swirled around her face as the wind mirrored her excitement. Her round eyes shone in her dark face, and her smile revealed white teeth. Around six-foot, she dominated any room she entered through a combination of height and personality.
"I know it's our first day," Alan responded. "You've only mentioned it twenty times in the last half-hour." Sixteen year-old Alan Cui, in contrast to Sylvia, was only five foot seven, with short-cropped hair. He was normally guarded, a legacy of his Chinese-American upbringing, but he actually cracked a smile at Sylvia's enthusiasm. "Don't act so enthusiastic. People might think you actually care about being on the team." He expertly ducked under Sylvia's playful hit.
"Stop fooling around!" came a sharp reprimand from behind the. Both teens whirled around to face one of their new leaders. "This is serious business here and if you two greenies won't stop fooling around, you have no place on this team." The young woman who issued this was around the same height as Alan, but appeared taller. Her icy gaze and straight spine booked no opposition. Her brown hair, pulled into a no-nonsense braid, completed her image of a drill sergeant. Rhonda Blake, or Hurricane as she was known on the team, was someone no one wanted to have as an enemy.
"Sorry Hurricane. It won't happen again," Alan responded with a straight face. Sylvia nodded beside them. Hurricane studied them as if searching for any signs of mutiny. Seeing none, she continued.
"Both of you greenies were deemed fit to join the League on the mission today. I have your code name assignments. You girl," she barked, pointing at Sylvia. "Your codename is Tornado. Boy, your name is Zoom. No questions? Good," she finished before Sylvia or Alan could open their mouths. "Follow me."
"I hate the name Zoom," Alan murmured to Sylvia as they followed Hurricane to the Armory. "Why did they have to give me a villain name?"
"That sucks for you. At least I have a bit of an old super name. Still, Tornado's not a really great name either."
"Both of you, cut the chatter," Hurricane ordered as she reached a pair of doors. Turning to face the pair, she addressed them. "Behind these doors are the League's uniforms, weapons, and any equipment you may need. Don't take any equipment from this room before checking with me, you understand?" Her eyes seemed to bore holes into the two teenagers, even after they nodded their compliance.
"They should check with me as well," came a voice behind Alan and Sylvia. A young man, who looked to be around twenty-two, hurried into view. He seemed to be crinkling with lightning, making his blond hair stand on end. "Why didn't you tell me you were taking the greenies to the armory Hurricane," the League's co-leader James Courtis asked.
"Why Shock," exclaimed Hurricane with mock surprise. "You seemed so…preoccupied with your newest trainee that I thought I could save time by showing these two the armory and giving them their code names."
"We're supposed to do that together," growled Shock through clenched teeth. "Stop trying to undermine me or I'll shock you so bad you'll never think about doing that again."
"Want to try that Casanova?" challenged Hurricane glaring at him. "How long do you think you'd last before I…"
"Enough!" Before Hurricane or Shock could fully register who issued that order, President Drake came into view. A middle-aged man, nothing about him seemed to attract attention. With brown hair, brown eyes, and an average height, nothing about him stood out in anyone's mind. He appeared utterly forgettable, until you looked into his eyes. There, you could see the ruthlessness, the insensitivity, and the fanaticism that drove this man. Both teens struggled to control shivers as they gazed into the face of their ultimate leader. He glanced at them before returning his attention to his feuding team leaders.
"I cannot put on a façade of unity when you two are squabbling like toddlers who just had a toy stolen. There is a reason why I placed you two as co-leaders and that situation is unlikely to change anytime soon. Now," he continued, moving from angry parent to unfazed president in a heartbeat. "The details of your mission are in the Armory. Brief the League when you get into position, not a moment before. Consider this," he paused, looking at Alan and Sylvia, "a test." With that last remark he left.
Shock, still sparking, gestured curtly to the pair. "What are you waiting for?" he growled, obviously still unhappy. "We don't have all day." He stalked into the Armory, followed by an angry Hurricane. Sylvia and Alan followed cautiously.
Inside the doors were rows of lockers, each with a League member's name on them. Sylvia and Alan went to their lockers and opened the. Inside each was a uniform in red, white, and blue.
"Why did they give me a cape?" Sylvia muttered to Alan as they changed. "You know capes are a problem waiting to happen. Look what happened to the original Red Tornado."
"Don't complain. At least you don't have a dorky mask with stars all over it." As they finished getting dressed, Alan and Sylvia compared costumes. Both had the same color scheme, but the resemblance ended there. Sylvia's included a flowing cape of red trimmed with white. The suit of the costume was blue and had long sleeves and pants, with stars bordering the v-cut neckline. The outfit was completed by a blue domino mask, fortunately without the overabundance of stars that Alan's mask had.
Alan's costume was red, with a mask that covered the upper portion of his face. Along the side and around the mask were white stars. Everything about his suit was designed for speed. There was not a stray bit of cloth anywhere.
"We look like a group of circus performers," Alan commented wryly as they made their way to the staging area. Awaiting them was Shock, Hurricane and another member of the League. As they got closer, Alan and Sylvia could see that it was Becca West, better known as Warhawk. With her axe and mace and her wings that had formerly been Hawkgirl's, she cut an impressive figure.
"Oh look, the greenies are here. Maybe we can actually get a move on it," she remarked impatiently as she spied Alan and Sylvia approaching.
"Get on the transporter," ordered Shock. "We'll explain everything when we get to the staging area." Alan and Sylvia managed one final glance at the other before they dematerialized from the Armory.
