Well, looks like things are back on track with this story. Hopefully, I'll be able to keep updating regularly over the summer. Now, it's time to look at another of this story's lead characters. Time to introduce Leathersuit!
Name: Steve Garrett
Age: 15
Height: 5'10" and growing
Hair: Black streaked with neon green dye. It's long and tied in a ponytail
Eyes: Yellow with reptilian slits
Family: Parents (unnamed) Gnawgahyde (maternal uncle/legal guardian)
Mutation: Leathersuit's mutation closely resembles the traits of an alligator. His skin is composed of dark green-gray scales that are tough enough to prevent injuries in a fight, his jaw muscles are strong enough to bite through steel chains, and he has a long thick tail. He also has a limited degree of superhuman strength, but nowhere near as great as Chaos or Golem.
Personality: Steve loves a good fight, particularly when he's the one doing the fighting. His favorite sports are boxing, wrestling, and hockey. He studied for a time at the Wildfire wrestling center, but was expelled due to his habit of beating up kids younger and weaker than himself for fun. Recently, he has learned to enjoy fixing vehicles and spending time with other kids his own age. He seems to like Andi in particular, but adamantly denies having any romantic feelings toward her.
~ … ~ is telepathy
Italics are thoughs
Learning to Breathe
64. Whole New Set of Circumstances
The weekend after Locust's defeat, Shadowatch was huddled around the television, watching news of Kid Razor's ventures in suppressing mutant-related gang activity on the other end of town.
"Looks like freaks like us are being accepted, albeit slowly." Neal stated, watching as a reporter interviewed Kid Razor. Kristen slapped him lightly on the back of the head. "Ow! What was that for?"
"Mr. Sharra, we are not 'freaks'." The dark-haired girl stated. "We're special!"
"Yeah, when you look in the dictionary under 'Short Bus', you'll see our pictures." Regan quipped.
"At least this gets Razor out of our hair." Steve shrugged.
"And what if the gangs decide to attack our supply shipments?" Mitch asked. His older brother yawned lazily.
"Then we'll kick their sorry asses, that's what." The green-eyed boy grinned. "We can take on anything!"
"Kids! Get in here now!" Zartan bellowed from the shop-area of the building complex.
"Better see what he wants." Andi rolled her eyes, getting up off the couch.
A man wearing a gray sport coat over a white TV-network t-shirt, a ball cap with the same network logo on it, blue jeans, and sneakers entered the area of the base known as "the Shop". This was the area that unsuspecting customers would enter to have their motorcycles, jeeps, and other unusual vehicles worked on, to purchase tires and oil, or to pay for having the crew work on their vehicles. Burnout, who was manning the register, looked at the newcomer skeptically. 'Never seen a biker dressed like that before.' He thought as the brown-haired mystery man walked up to the counter. "What do you want?" The African-American Dreadnok asked gruffly. The man smiled, a glint appearing in his brown eyes.
"My name is Spike Freeman, I work at a local cable network, WTCP, and I was wondering if I could speak to whoever is in charge of this base?" Spike answered. Burnout raised a suspicious eyebrow.
"I'm the one that runs this shop."
"No, not the store front, I meant the base. You know, where you and your shady employees do all of your under-the-table transactions." Spike stated. "Is he here."
Now that was unusual. "Why do you want to see him so bad?" the older man frowned.
"That's between me and him." The other said. "Now, is he here or not?"
Zartan, who had been walking by and overheard most of the conversation, stepped out of the doorway leading from the shop to the garage. "This way."He said in a low authoritative tone. Spike walked through the door with a smirk on his face. The cocky visitor followed Zartan back to Burnout's office, which he soon found himself stuck in.
"Don't you know it's not nice to intimidate a visitor?"
"No one ever said I was nice." Zartan stated. "What do you want here?"
"Don't get too bent out of shape, it has very little to do with you." Spike said. "I'm here about the kids you have running around this place."
Uh oh. "What kids?" Zartan asked. Spike laughed.
"Don't play dumb, I've seen them come and go from here. I'm actually quite impressed with them."
"They're not for sale."
"Now, now, I'm not interested in buying them permanently. " The brown-haired man held up his hands.
"Then what do you want with them?"
"I'm a television producer." Spike grinned. "I've seen what those kids can do, and I think they could be stars on my network. "
"What?" Zartan blinked. The idea of putting the crazy mutants on television had never occurred to him, mainly because very few people would find them amusing. "You want to put Shadowatch on TV? Have you lost your marbles or something? That's the stupidest idea I've ever heard."
Another laugh from Spike. "I prefer the term 'overly creative'. Listen, reality-based shows are taking off right now, but there's not a whole lot to appeal to the 12-18 age group besides Fear Factor. This is my answer to it. We take a look into the lives of a group of kids raised by a bunch of bikers, and the ratings will soar! And best of all, any time those little darlings use some of their special talents, the viewers will think it's visual effects."
"Sounds like you're setting yourself up for a massive failure, Mr. Freeman." The assassin stated. "The kids aren't actors."
"They don't have to be." Freeman grinned. "They have spunk, charm, street-smarts…"
"And destructive tendencies."
"That's what viewers want! I can't wait to set these kids loose at sporting events!"
"Good God, the lawsuits alone will drive you into bankruptcy!" Zartan groaned.
"Just ask them." Spike stated confidently. "Let them decide."
Zartan pinched the bridge of his nose. This was NOT going to end well. "Kids! Get in here now!" He shouted.
The team filed into the garage area, wondering just what on earth was so important that Zartan wanted them in the garage. When they arrived, they found their boss standing next to a strange man wearing a baseball cap. "Uh, who's the dork in the hat?" Bryan asked. He and Kristen were the first two in the room, acting as a lookout crew. If they had unwanted company, Kris could mentally relay that knowledge to the others who filed in (like Andi).
The man smiled, but waited for all 9 teens to enter before speaking. "Wow, there's more of you than I expected."
"And why do we care about that?" Andi glared. "Who are you?"
"I'm the man who can make your dreams of stardom come true." He flashed a smile. "Name's Spike Freeman. I work as a producer at WCTP, and I want you kids to be the stars of my new reality show."
All nine offered the same kind of expression: confused. "Come again?" Neal asked.
"It's a joke. Where's the hidden camera?" Bryan asked.
"You honestly think Candid Camera is that original?" Kris raised an eyebrow.
"Why would anyone want to watch us on TV?" Andi asked. "They barely want to see us in real life!"
"Kids your age, that's who." Spike smirked. "I already cleared it with the production crew. All I need is your approval."
"What premise?" Regan asked. "They need a reason for seeing a bunch of kids running around with middle-aged bikers."
"It's a concept series called 'Growing Up Biker'." Spike folded his hands. "Basically, we film you kids at work here in the shop, at home during slightly-scripted scenarios, and to any outings you clear with the rest of the production crew and the network."
"Concept series." Virus repeated. "As in experimental?"
"A bit, yes, but the possibilities are endless and the outlook is good." The brunette man explained.
"But if it flops, you'll leave us alone?" Mitch asked.
"But we don't want it to flop, Mitch." Kris said. "We want it to be as successful as possible." ~Think of it as good publicity for Cobra and the Dreadnoks, not to mention us.~
~And Lord knows we need it.~ Regan responded. ~All in favor, say aye.~
Seven other 'aye's chimed in with her own. ~Virus…~
~I don't like it.~
~You don't have too. You're outvoted.~ Kris shot back at him.
"We accept on one condition." Andi stated out loud. Intrigued, Spike met her cold gaze with one of interest.
"Name it."
"We reserve the right to write out our own 'scripted scenarios'." She responded. "And to veto any we see as below our standards or not in keeping with our team spirit."
"It shall be done!" Spike beamed, shifting his contented gaze from Andi to Zartan. "I told you they'd be on board with it." The older man sighed.
"I sense impending doom."
"I sense great ratings." Spike chuckled. "We start filming next week. I'll have my people call you with a set time later."
"Just get out of my office." Zartan replied, pointing to the door. Spike stood up from his seat and walked out with a call of "Remember! Next week!" following him away from the group.
"We're gonna be on TV!" Kris squealed, bouncing up and down. "I always wanted to be on TV!"
"We were on TV, Kris." Neal pointed out.
"Yeah, the evening news." Regan frowned.
"That's not the same, though!" She protested. "This is big! Like Godzilla big!"
"Gotta admit it sounds excitin'." Bryan pointed out. "Man, I wonder what the first script's gonna look like?"
"Does it matter?" Zartan asked. "This will never work! I told him that up front."
"So long as we don't get sued, I don't care." Andi shrugged. "It's the best kind of publicity we can hope for around here."
"Be careful what you say, kid." He looked at her. "You may regret it."
"I don't think I will."
"Famous last words."
"Whatever."