Oh boy, here I go again. I have another fanfic in My Hero Academia called "Negative One". Pat re0n . c0m / NJMRIV ← Support if you want.
I'm going to try to shove in a bunch of new OCs in this story, but I'll attempt to make them all memorable in a way that you can distinguish them easily. I'd hate to bog you down with a bunch of nobody characters.
Strike is a great, fantastic, super badass character! But he's not the only thing Vince decided to insert into the story, after all, every good hero needs some good unique villains.
Brockton Bay's sky isn't as dark as its setting.
Despite Brockton Bay's reputation for "shit happens", the daytime doesn't look all that bad. Even though it has a crime problem that makes Gotham City look like a shining beacon of light, the skies are a clear blue instead of being dreary, grim, and smoky.
The air also smelled clear, though that changed drastically as soon as one was to go to the part of the city called The Docks, which is the more rundown part of the city thanks to its failing economy. It isn't so bad that it smells like a dump, but there's a reason why the Archer's Bridge Merchant Villain, Mush, who uses trash as bulk can be seen as dangerous there.
Of course, he's seen as poultry compared to the more significant threats out there. Giant monsters capable of sinking countries, roaming serial killers that had beaten every adversary in their path, and people who have the power to win at anything.
But this world's motivation… The drive for either saving it or for its destruction.
It's all so disappointing.
Both facets of mankind, the good and the bad are disappointing on this Earth. Their powers are taken for granted, their minds broken and poisoned, and their skills lacking.
Humanity are just puppets being held on strings through their brains here, every act of good and bad they do here is nothing but the will of something far bigger than they are, forcing them to experiment, and then take it all away when they're done. Which sucks.
Because there is no greater potential in the universe than humanity's own.
Give humanity power without strings attached and everything inside them bursts to the surface, the infinite creativity that multiple universes admire and fear them for unleashes like a storm. Unpredictable, immeasurable, and unstoppable.
Earth Bet cannot fathom what someone like that can do.
Could they prepare for such individuals?
Maybe, but never in a million years would they expect this.
+/+
Vince POV
I take a deep breath as I sit in front of my computer again with the story waiting in front of me. Covid is a bitch and a half to life, but at least it gives me much more time at home to write.
Hopefully, the quarantine can be over soon, 2020 so far has been a bitch so I hope it gets better.
Ever since I discovered the story a week ago, I've been thoroughly experimenting with what exactly can I do with it.
The best way to start a story is with introductions of characters, but the thing is, I've already read Worm fanfics by the literal hundreds. I've already seen the same characters of the story get introduced all those times, and most often than not, the plotlines remain the same. Lung, the bank robbery, Leviathan, the Slaughterhouse 9, Coil, and so on.
So, why don't I just put in other characters and see the differences blossom from there? Hell, why not change some of the characters for a little more difference? I have so many ideas, so many plans, and so much to do. So sadly, I can't be everyone at once no matter how cool that can be, but that's what OCs are for.
I stretch my back on my chair and look down at the notebook in front of me, all the notes about what I can do with the story written down.
I realized that I could pick which OC I wanted to "Pilot" anytime I wanted to be in the story myself, and every time I'm not piloting them, they run by themselves the way I wanted to in the story.
They become the character themselves, believing their backstories, and thinking and acting in a way that's consistent with the personalities they have.
I can also put in characters that come from other series, but I can only modify their identity, abilities, and backstory, I also can't pilot them myself, the same goes for the Canon characters from the original Worm. But I also found a new way to enjoy the story that I can do with them.
I can act as a "Spectator", which lets me see the story in 3rd Person, following certain characters and hearing specific thoughts from them. It's like watching a movie, with cuts and edits and everything!
I've already thought of the plot, changes, and additions I wanted to put in all day, and now it's time to see it all happen, and boy will it be a surprise for any readers (but I'm just writing the story now, who could possibly be reading it?).
Man, I just wish I could eat popcorn while inside.
My fingers touch the keyboard and-
Strike POV
Another night. Another patrol.
And another crackhead to scare the shit out of.
I knock the Merchant druggie on his ass in the alleyway he was walking past. He wasn't stealing anything, mugging anyone, or even trying to sell drugs, which is why no one would expect him to be my target tonight.
"You motherfucker! You think you can-"
I shut him up by pointing the end cap of my trusty metal bat at his throat.
"I think I can do whatever I please since I'm the one with the weapon." I then reach down and grab him by the shirt and force him to stand up. I choke him against the wall with my bat, and I glare at him with all my intimidation points.
He couldn't see my eyes, but I could tell he could feel it.
"Now then," I lower my voice to sound more intimidating, that works right? "You either tell me where the hell this came from or I'll break your legs and jaw so you can crawl to the hospital."
I open my hand to show him what I was talking about, who doesn't recognize it at this point?
The Archer's Bridge Merchants are a known small-time gang of Brockton Bay whose only purpose in this stinkhole is to sell drugs and get rich, they own territories that barely any other gang wants and their members are also the least trained and equipped. They're also rarely taken seriously by the PRT because they have very low ambition. They don't have the smarts nor the firepower to actually become a large threat.
The only reason they're still around is because of the other gangs, the PRT has to put resources into suppressing the bigger threats so they don't have the luxury of taking care of a bunch of crackheads selling drugs and assaulting people.
Granted, the Merchants are still pieces of shit that deserve an ass-kicking for all the shit they've done and the lives they've ruined, but as of this moment? They're the least worrying thing in this city.
Isn't Brockton Bay a wondrous place?
But unknown to everyone else in this city, something is changing, it hadn't gotten their attention yet because the Merchants are being uncharacteristically careful, but it definitely will at some point.
In my hand is a very small syringe, so small that it doesn't have a plunger, it only consists of the needle and the barrel. It's designed to just be stuck in someone's body and it automatically delivers the dosage of whatever's inside. While there's nothing inside it anymore, I'm fully aware of what was in it, I studied the composition back at base the first time I found it.
And the things inside were very worrying.
Information from overhearing things on the streets was good, but information got from "politely asking" one of them will be better.
But no one too high up the food chain yet, on the off chance I fuck up, alerting them that I was unto the change is unwise. I'll pick apart the rumors from the bottom feeders first before I work my way up.
The druggie paled as his eyes caught the syringe, he tried to struggle away but I just press the bat even harder.
"Ack! L-Listen man, I-I don't want any trouble-"
"Too late for that, where did you get this?"
"I-I can't say anything! They'll fuck me up if I do!"
"Don't worry, you'll be fine if they don't find out."
"P-Please man, look I-"
I stare into his fearful eyes and press the bat even harder against his throat, choking him. He tries to push me off, but he's years away from even making me stumble.
No one sees him struggle and push in the dark alleyway, no one hears his choked gurgles as he desperately tries to relieve the pressure from his neck and breathe in air.
Just as he's about to pass out, I take a step back and let him fall to the ground. He starts coughing and gasping as he takes in oxygen and rubs his sore throat.
I wait until his coughs slow down and stop, then I plant my foot on his shoulder and push him back against the brick wall, this time he's sitting down.
"Listen to me," I growl out, making it look like I'm losing patience. (Ahh! I'm so cool!) "I know what this is, I know what it does, and I definitely know that you scum don't have anything to do with how it's made. So I'm going to ask one last time, and if you don't answer me…"
I crouch down and grab him by the jaw, I take the needle and point it right above his eye, so close that if he flinches, the needle will poke a hole right through. The threat is literally hovering above his eye.
"So. Where. Did. You. Get. This?"
This might seem over the top, and this may look cruel, but this is how I do things. I'm not a pacifist, my attack of the drug warehouse a few days ago proved that, but having to hit someone for information is beneath me (beneath Strike anyway). The best way to get information from someone is to let them know that they're talking to someone who they think won't hesitate to beat them for it.
A dog that's all bark and no bite will eventually be called out.
But a dog that becomes known for biting the hardest would only need to bark to set someone running.
His pupils dilate in pure fear and he very carefully nods lightly to not puncture his eye. I'm just glad he didn't piss himself.
"I-I don't know man! Look, Skidmark just told us that it was going to change how we do things and not ask questions! I don't know where it came from but-" Seemingly realizing that I now think he's useless to me, he scrambles to give me something useful. "But! Y-You're right! Skidmark didn't make this shit, I don't know everything, but I do know that some guy went up to him with a deal."
He swallows a bit before continuing.
"Weird shit's been going down, the deliveries came from some guys with masks."
"What kind of masks?"
"Uh, white, covered the entire head, don't know how the fuck they see out of it though."
"These masks were featureless?"
"Huh?"
"Did the masks have any markings?"
"No, nothing."
Complete white featureless masks. Yep, that's them, I wonder what they look like in person. I can remember with my eidetic memory, but seeing them in person would be another thing entirely.
"Thank you, that will be all."
He sighed in relief at not being hurt. I pull a small black cylindrical object from my back right pocket, I twist it in my hands a few times to hear the small beep, one that went unheard to the addict. After I finish calibrating the device, I point the tip toward the man.
"Now, you'll feel a slight headache but don't worry, you won't remember this."
"Wait, what do you-"
I press a button on the side of the device and a bright flash emanates from the tip and immediately the man's face blanks. I pocket the device and simply told him, "This never happened and you'll tell your bosses nothing, now get out of here."
He doesn't even nod, he just gets to his feet and walks away.
Neuralyzers are fun. They also would give the PRT a heart attack, but that's part of the fun.
It's best to let him go, no need to alert the Merchants that someone might be onto them, let them think that the attack on the warehouse is a one-time thing.
Anyway, about the Merchants.
People haven't noticed yet, but there had been a change in the Merchants. Before, they were the jokes of the Brockton underworld, and they acted like it most of the time. No ambition other than trying to get rich, no members other than those who are desperate for cash and don't care about hurting others, and no strong foothold to take over the bay.
But you hear things on the streets, whispers of a new drug about to hit the streets here, getting supplied with bigger guns there, and talks of a mysterious backer behind it all.
Naturally, I got curious.
So I pick a target to hurt the Merchants, like say, a warehouse for drugs, and cut it off. I watched their response to the attack subtly for a few days to see if they panicked, were calm, or were expecting it to happen.
How did I do that?
I have the stealth and intelligence equal to fucking Batman, that's how. (Well, technically this is kind of a small time skip so "I" never technically did it, but I remember it so shut up, it's the same thing.)
The results were the first two, the ones who sell the new drug panicked at the hit, probably expecting someone to crack down on them at any moment, which isn't inaccurate.
But from what I heard, the capes weren't worried at all. They're completely unbothered by the attack and the fact that 19 of their members have been arrested. They were surprised by it, but not angry or enraged as their personalities would suggest. Which meant that they were either secretly masterminds that can plan around it (HAHAHAHAHAHAHA) or someone else is calling the shots now, and Skidmark is apparently fine with it.
Yeah, something was off there.
Then there's the drug.
Unknown mixture with strange chemicals, all the benefits of normal drugs with the negatives being massively reduced, no shard energy residue according to scans so it isn't Tinker-Tech, though it does act like one.
Which is a clear indication that it isn't from around here.
And now, I'm confident that someone else provided this for the Merchants, the bottom-of-the-barrel gang in Brockton Bay. The Merchants are going to become stronger, and no one knows about it. I better report this after I get back to base.
Reporting this to the PRT would be smart if they weren't artificially created to be full of leaks. The people working there obviously do their jobs the best they can despite their numerous flaws, but unfortunately, the game had been rigged since its creation.
I walk away to return to base and… I can't help but feel like I'm forgetting something…
Wait…
Oh shit, I haven't introduced Strike out of costume yet! Nor have I shown what he does during the day! That's one of the most important parts of superhero storytelling! It's supposed to show what kind of person he is in public which reveals plenty of parts of his personality!
Fuck!
TIME SKIP!
+NEXT MORNING+
Jobs are not easy to come by in Brockton Bay, ever since the shipping industry shut down, jobs started to trickle away slowly. The only main businesses left in the city were Medhall Corporation, which is a pharmaceutical company, and the actual PRT itself, which deals with law enforcement.
Other than those two, the only other work is from smalltime businesses, cooking for restaurants, becoming a teacher, a boring office job, and if someone is feeling pretty risky and wants to get in danger a lot without having the immediate backing of the PRT one can choose to be a security guard.
While Strike didn't really need a job, having something to do for the day would be good cover.
But what's the best cover for a superhero in this world?
Where is the best place to hide from both the heroes and the villains?
Easy, from right under their noses.
Around east of Downtown, the sound of obnoxiously loud swearing grates against my ears as I drag a struggling cuffed white criminal towards the backseat of a police car.
"-I'll fucking kill your family! Do you hear me?! The Empire will tear you to pieces-"
"Yeah yeah, get your ass in the car," I tell him in perfect German just to fuck with him and shoved him in, nearly slamming the door on his face. "Prick."
I put my hand on my hips as I take in the aftermath of the situation. I see the other officers pulling other cuffed Empire goons toward more police cars, Alabaster, the Empire's literal whitest man was being carried away while covered in containment foam, and the local Protectorate member, Dauntless, a greek looking themed hero with empowered gear covering him head to toe, stopping for an interview by the local news.
His face is covered by a greek style helmet but I can tell he's instinctively giving off a PR-friendly smile, probably hammered into his face by the PRT. The cameras recording him can't even see it, but there he is, giving it as best he can.
Some officers were just keeping multiple bystanders back who are videoing everything with their phones, some even screaming for the hero's attention. Which I don't get honestly.
Like, tell me one thing about Dauntless' personality that you know.
Nothing, right?
He's a minimalist, and he cares about avoiding collateral damage, that's it. The only reason he gets as much hype is because of his power, the ability to imbue objects with a charge of power that gives them individual special capabilities. He can stack these power-ups as much as he can with no hard upper limit known, which makes his potential insane.
Cool power bro, next.
"There you go again, just staring at another hero." A female voice brings me out of my thoughts. I look to the other side of the car and I see the face of the voice. A dark-skinned woman with brown eyes stares at me with the side of her lip slightly quirked up, her arms leaning on top of the car. "You sure you're not gay? You were staring at Armsmaster last time."
I visibly roll my eyes at her. "Haha, funny, don't talk to me about staring at heroes Janice, you were the one whose eyes were glued to his ass the entire time we were here."
Janice Hess, my partner at the BBPD, just shrugs at my observation and steps back from the car. "So? I'm not the only one."
"If you meant me, I don't even know where his ass is in that costume, but if you meant the civilians, the only ones staring are the teenagers, you're an adult cop Janice."
She makes an iffy motion with her hand. "Eh… I'm pretty sure I never matured past high school, did get smarter though."
"Which is the only reason you got hired for this job."
"Hey! I can kick ass too!"
"With that, I can agree."
She crosses her arms, satisfied that I complimented her on something, which is a rarity. But I'm not lying, she really can give most chumps a run for their money.
Standing only an inch shorter than me, she's wearing the same uniform that I am, though obviously hers is fitted for a woman. A dark blue polo shirt and pants, a badge right above our right breast, a standard police cap covering my black buzz-cut hair, the same cap on her head, and a black belt with a holster for a gun on the right side, a baton at the left, walkie talkies at the front, and a taser at the back.
Standard police stuff.
"Anyway," She continues while leaning down towards the backseat window from her side, watching the raging Empire goon like a child would watch an animal at the zoo, I can't hear him but I can guess the racist shit he's already spouting. She lowers her voice so only I can hear her. "How long do you think we'll keep this one until the Empire bails him out?"
"If we're lucky, they'll focus more on Alabaster and forget about the other guys."
"Ha! I'll give it a week until Alabaster gets broken out."
"I'll give it three days."
It would look like bad practice to just say that the criminal we're just now bringing in is inevitably going to break out, but this is Brockton Bay, shit like that is so common that some cops just take bribes instead of enforcing the law. Not even because they're greedy or anything, but because they either accept the payment and look the other way, or goons with guns storm us and kill as many people as possible.
The police have to be corrupt otherwise people get hurt, how often does that happen?
Janice and I have never taken bribes before, but at the same time, we don't really crack down at it anymore. (Not in my day job anyway.)
With Cape criminals though, specifically the Empire, the PRT had failed to keep their arrested Capes so many times now that it's an inside joke with us.
"Ugh," Janice briefly hangs her head down, before standing up straight. "This is so lame, when was the last time we got any action without the PRT getting involved? With shootouts and shit, we didn't even do anything here."
"Not everyone is enthusiastic about getting into shootouts Janice."
"Well, I ain't one of them."
We walk to the front of the car and sit at the hood, looking at the same old sight that we've used to as cops in Brockton Bay. Criminals get put into cuffs and vehicles, and the very next day, we do the same thing again, sometimes even seeing the same people from the day before.
"Hey, Janice?"
"Hm?"
"How's Sophia doing by the way?"
"Oh you know, getting better, thank God. Still barely at home though, always at the gym, or asking about what you've been doing." She playfully scoffs and nudged me with her elbow. "I don't know what you told her, but she's been your biggest fucking fan since."
"I only told the kid what she needed to hear."
"Yeah, and you're already kind of a better mom than I am then."
I don't mention the self-loathing, better to help her sometime down the line with that particular issue, in the meantime, I might as well get some information.
"She has any trouble on her way home from school or the gym? The Merchants still giving you guys some trouble?"
"Surprisingly, no. I don't know if they're scared or something but I think they're preparing for something after that hit at their warehouse from that new cape, what was his name?"
"Strike."
"Yeah, that guy, at least someone actually gives a shit about what happens at the Docks."
The animosity in her voice is easy to catch, most of the Protectorate here usually patrol around Downtown, and the Docks barely see the heroes because of the Merchants being not that threatening to them as a whole, and because of a certain sleeping Asian dragon that whooped their ass a few years back.
But he doesn't scare me, the Merchants don't either, but something new helping the Merchants can snowball into something worse for everyone.
And I can't tell anyone because that wouldn't help anything.
If the people here find out about who's helping the Merchants and where he came from…
Shit would hit the fan, fast.
But hey, this is Worm, what could possibly go wrong?
.
.
.
That was a joke, I know how this song and dance goes.
So how fast do you all think this is going to escalate? It's a Worm fic so…
Sorry about not updating this but was busy updating other stories and dealing with a car crash that shat on my life. Anyway, I'm trying to make this story more episodic than my others and hopefully, I'll do a good job.
Steve himself won't be showing up too often after this point, but just know that every 1st person's view will technically be his. Don't worry, the characters that you know and love/hate will eventually show up.