2 Conception 1:2
Winslow, Brockton Bay.
Winslow High. If there were any notable institutions in the educational sector of Brockton Bay, it would either be Winslow High and its stark counterpart, Arcadia High.
Unlike its 'bright' counterpart. Winslow High is said to be a school jam-packed with delinquents or to put it more crudely; A den of budding thieves, gangsters, hoodlums… And of course capes.
Don't forget the capes…
ABB, Empire 88, Merchants... Three well-known Villain Organizations in the city, –though, the Merchants couldn't really be classified as a true organization due to their mien- Carrying on. Each and every member of such groups have their hands implanted within the veritable halls of the Academy.
One might ask, how do they do it? Yeah, that's right; The Students.
Drugs, peer pressure, forceful coercion, bullying… That and various other ways were employed to turn what is ought to be a school for learning into a jungle where only the strongest and the fittest could survive…
Like the city outside the school walls weren't fucked up enough.
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
"Now or ever, Jonathan. It's time to once again, put on the façade."
At the whisper, Jonathan drew up his blue hood. Melding in with the droves of ununiformed students who were entering the school hallways.
If there was anything Jonathan learned when attending Winslow, was that for one to truly survive this school, there were certain behaviors and quirks meant to be 'put on' in order to obscure yourself as a 'target' from the unruly eyes.
Your gait, the placement of your body, how you look around, how you let others see you, the kind of aura you emanate... There will always be eyes watching. Dissecting your little nuances, to classify you either as prey or as a person to be left alone.
But that isn't all...
"Hey, B-Jay."
Clapping the outstretched hand, Jonathan drew in the muscled Merchant boy for a half-hug. Putting up a fake smile, Jonathan said. "I see that you've finally come to realize the importance of school, eh. Matt."
Closing his locker, Matt shrugged his shoulders.
"Hah, hold ya' horses, busboy. I just came to see some familiar faces... And also there're talks of 'em tiny eyes folks swaggering around, taking a crack at just anyone. Idiots. Think 'cause they got a rabid bomber bitch wreckin' the city, they're now kings all of a sudden. I'm just waitin' for one of 'em cunts to try'n take a swing at me. Wanna' show them whose boss."
Jonathan chuckled, shaking his head incredibly.
"And that's why you came to school after all this while. Hah! That's so like you, Matts. Always one for the fights. You'll be perfect for the cape world."
"Ya' get me, B-Jay..." Shuffling a bit closer, Matt muttered. "Hey, so do you think ya' can help me ask ya' big-bro, when's he gonna' bring the stuff to my side of the neighborhood... Pop's gettin' a little cranky, ya' see."
'I'll take that as my cue to end this conversation.' Jonathan thought, while outwardly shrugging.
"You know I don't do drugs... But~ don't worry. I'll ask him for you."
"Now, that's my ever trusted B-Jay. Knew I could count on ya'..."
After some few more pep talks, and some more boys 'gossip'. Jonathan watched as the Merchant boy walked ahead of him, before sighing to himself.
"Now that's another objective, partially complete."
For you see, while your body actions and nuances were very important in establishing a presence to any watchful eyes. In Winslow, it's never enough. You've got to have connections. A group or rather, an illusion of one.
It's kind of an unwritten rule in Winslow that every gang members ought to respect their territory. Unless of course, you're looking for a gang war or something within that spectrum. But till then, don't seek fights with your fellow 'professionals.'
ABB, Empire 88, Merchant… It was obvious among the three which one Jonathan was going to choose. More like there was no other option. And the Merchants for all their annoying jabbing and babbling can be managed, if you can just engage in small talk with them.
Just enough to leave them feeling satisfied and feel ingratiated within their midst... The later part most importantly.
Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Jonathan looked at the still populated hallway.
"Now, let's see if there're any familiar folks I can chat with to fulfill my morning quota."
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
"Morning, Mr. G."
"Morning to you, Jonathan. Go, take your seat. Class's just about to begin."
Entering the classroom. Jonathan gave a genial nod to the young teacher to which Mr. G or rather, Mr. Gladly genially returned.
"Alright, teach, you're the boss."
Traversing to his seat. Jonathan settled down, taking out his book and began to jot down the class topic. It was on Parahuman Studies. Although, in the course of the class, Jonathan droned off as he had already had an idea on the said topic. So Jonathan used the opportunity to roam using his eyes.
As expected, there were some students who were paying attention –after all, who doesn't want to talk about capes- but Jonathan could clearly see that they weren't truly invested in the topic.
The PHO gave more Parahuman updates than a history book ever could, and the 'lucky' or 'unlucky' aspect of Brockton Bay could get one dragged into the middle of a cape fight.
Whether you like it or not…
Sighing, Jonathan picked up his pen, idly twirling it around his fingers. His eyes frivolously glanced around the diversified people from all walks of life, but were still cut from the same cloth.
From Jonathan's perspective. The class could be likened as some sort of d-rated movie. The individuals in the class take on certain roles and plays which define their lives… Winners, losers, neutral spectators.
As for Jonathan, he would certainly classify himself as a spectator.
Jonathan couldn't really call himself a winner as the main reason for his actions was to survive in this hellhole, and in the same wavelength, he certainly wasn't a loser. A Spectator. One who watches from an outsider's perspective and quietly makes commentaries on the actions of the actors and actresses.
Like the rather 'interesting' play currently going on in front of him…
"Hey Madison, check out Miss lanky here."
"Ugh, I know what you mean. A pile of negative energy rolled into a sack of flesh."
"Hahahahaha… Got it all in one, girl~"
"Well, I don't care, I'm just gonna' take her assignment and submit it as my own. I don't have time to play with her today."
"But Sophia, do you really want to say that when the she's this close."
"What's she gonna' do about it? Whine and cry?"
"Pft, when you put it that way…"
More stifled laughter ensued, while the girl who was being referred to in those scathing remarks remained stiff like a statue. And from the way Jonathan sees it, she might as well be a genuine article.
Taylor Herbert…
If one could describe her own role in class, it would be that of a tragic character whose 'fatuousness' is on the level of the main characters of William Shakespeare's works… No, not fatuousness. Just plain up absurd.
From what Jonathan could remember. This particular painful occurrence began about almost a year ago.
Taylor you see, was friends with one of her present tormentors. Emma Barnes. Otherwise known as the Drag-Queen of Winslow High. As someone who went to the same middle school as Taylor and Emma, Jonathan knew how close the two were.
In fact, one might as well call them sisters from different mothers due to the close relationship they both had with one another.
Then it all changed…
Jonathan couldn't remember the exact date or time. But Jonathan was quite sure that Emma's radical change had to do with the school's track-star, Sophia Hess. Where Emma was once likened to a sweet next door girl, now she was just plainly vain.
There was nothing connecting the girl from before to the girl of now.
As if that weren't enough, Emma tried to cut off everything that had to do with her former self, which brings us to her former best friend now target practice. Taylor Herbert. Insults, physical abuse, emotional trauma conjuring…
Jonathan was half the mind that Emma was trying to make Taylor trigger.
And that is if Taylor hasn't already triggered, if the Locker Incident is being taken into consideration…
Madison… Well, Jonathan could only describe her in one word. Follower. Someone who sees what the crowd does and mimes to feel as if she belonged. Madison sees the duo –Emma and Sophia- as one big banner to protect her from the outside forces. It was obvious that Madison would do whatever it takes to stay within their cohort.
In a way, Jonathan knew that Madison wasn't totally different from him…
So now, here comes the two big question…
Did Jonathan think what was being done to Taylor was ok? No, he saw it as plain wickedness. But did Jonathan actually pity Taylor Herbert? Maybe, before. But now, he never and will never feel pity the bespectacled girl.
After all. How can you even begin to pity someone who doesn't want your help and will spitefully refuse it if it is being offered?
The first time Jonathan had witnessed the bullying. He had decided to wait and see what will happen.
And as for why Jonathan didn't interfere with the matter?
Well, it all because of the brooding emo lady currently sleeping in class.
Sophia Hess…
Jonathan didn't know what was going on –well he does have his suspicions- Sophia seems to hold a special kind of authority in school despite not being affiliated with any of the gang-members.
Though, that could be attributed to the brutal beat down Sophia gave most of the gang leaders on the first day she enrolled.
But that wasn't why Jonathan didn't want to tangle with Sophia. The core reason for that is her rather 'special' relationship with the authorities of the school. Not once, or twice nor thrice. Time and time again. Most, if not all the teachers seem to take Sophia's shit lying down without any form of precautionary measures being taken …
It's like she got diplomatic immunity or something.
Jonathan actually had a suspicion on why that was so –same with how Sophia is so good with fighting- but he was afraid to act upon it… No need to piss of someone who would just be a total nuisance in his peaceful school life.
Back to the subject matter. Seeing that the trio's hazing, pushing, and jibbing kept on getting worse, and with no abject response Taylor, herself. Jonathan took it upon himself to stop the matter.
Indirectly of course…
Mr. G. A young graduate from Oklahoma and the only teacher in Winslow that Jonathan could freely relate to. Jonathan had informed Mr. G on Taylor's plight, while making sure to take videos of some of the disturbing scenes as real evidence. In fact, Jonathan was prepared to testify on the matter if need be…
Jonathan knew that it wasn't a smart nor a safe decision. But by God in heaven, the things they usually say to Taylor made Jonathan's skin scrawl and gave him the urge to wash their mouths with soap.
But can anyone guess what Taylor's response was to Mr. G's offer to help?
Yep, that's right. Rejection. Plain, and obfuscated caustic rejection.
Jonathan could still remember how he sat frozen at the other side of library, when he heard Taylor reject Mr. G's offer for help.
Like what the hell is wrong with you?! The man's trying to help you, girl. Why are you refusing him? Don't you wanna' be free from your tormentors?
… Or perhaps, you're secretly an M? Would have made sense if that were the case.
It was with those thoughts in mind that Jonathan met with Mr. Gladly to discuss what had just happened.
"Taylor… I don't think she likes me much." Mr. G said after a moment of consideration. "I could see it in her eyes, when she refused my offer. I don't know why, but I feel like even if I ask her again, she would have still remained obstinate."
Whelp, there was only one thing to do in response to that. Like the way Pontius Pilate washed his hands off Jesus of Nazareth. Jonathan washed his hands off Taylor Herbert.
Jonathan wasn't that much of a philanthropist to keep on trying to help someone who obviously doesn't want any help.
The Good Book says; 'heaven helps those who help themselves.'
If Taylor doesn't want to help herself, why the fuck should Jonathan kill himself by helping her…?
Not like she's his crush or something for that matter…
Yawning, Jonathan dryly pushed his eyes away from the normal occurrence and focused back on the board. While he already understood the topic, it wouldn't kill him to learn a bit more from a professional source.
'Not like I have anything to do anyway…'
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ Apex Machinaᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
Following the flock of students as they processed out, back to the chaotic city of Brockton Bay. Jonathan stretched his hands groaning, tired from the school's discordance but thankful that it ended on a peaceful note.
In a city like Brockton Bay, that's got to count as something.
Jonathan hummed as he walked down the stones steps, passing through the school's entrance and turned left to head back to his side of the city. But then a familiar voice called out to Jonathan from behind.
"Jon…"
Eyes widening. Jonathan swirled back, looking for the source of the voice. That itself didn't take long as Jonathan spotted its owner some feet away from him.
"Jason…"
Leaning against the school wall was an African-American whose appearance bore an uncanny resemblance to Jonathan. Only that unlike Jonathan, Jason's hair was set in a low cut. He wore a black tank-top that exposed the wavy tattoos inscribed on both his arms, while possessing the physique of well-fit swimmer.
Jason could physically be described as the kind of guy one would see on trashy magazines. Which meant that he was handsome enough to turn eyes. And most importantly, Jonathan knew that Jason could utilize his said appearance for his benefit.
That's my big bro.
Walking towards his brother with a bit more prep to his steps. Jonathan asked, while bearing a look of bemusement. "Bro, what are you doing here?"
Detaching himself from the wall, Jason wrapped his arms around Jonathan's neck with a grin around his face.
"And that's the first thing you say to your bro who's so tired, after he's been working all night long? That hurts, Jon."
Shrugging off Jason's arm. Jonathan straightened his arm strap, scoffing.
"Fuck off. This is like one of the few times I've ever seen you around Winslow. So of course I gotta' ask. And also, why weren't you at home, yesterday?"
"Sheesh, what's with all the questions?"
"Are you seriously asking me that? Especially in times like this."
"Yeah, you're kinda' right about that one …"
Rubbing the side of his cheeks, Jason said a bit somberly.
"Had a meeting with the Merchants. Carriers like us, we're being hunted down by the ABB and their new fucker of a leader. Skidmark says that there'll be a conglomerate meeting between all the gang heads to decide on how to deal with the bitch. But for now, we 'normies' are to bunker down and keep our heads low…"
"Hmm~ well, I did suspected that much."
At the realization that Jason was leading Jonathan deep into the main district of Brockton Bay. Jonathan raised an eyebrow as he asked. "Got anything to do there?"
Shrugging, Jason said. "Not really. Figure we might as well get food and supplies that'll last us for at least three weeks. Don't want to be moving around much. Not while there's still 'heat' in the air."
Both brothers stopped at the side of the road. The road sign for pedestrian passing was red, while cars of all varieties pass by like a blur. Meanwhile, Jonathan took this little stop as an opportunity to question Jason.
"Are you saying that I shouldn't go to school for the rest of the week?"
"3 weeks, at least." Jason corrected raising his three fingers. "I don't trust anywhere that's crowded. Especially at this part of Brockton. That bitch has shown that she's willing to do whatever the hell she wants, and I ain't risking it when her people could be anywhere."
Jonathan hummed in agreement. With the way things were nowhere is safe. Not even his nondescript neighborhood. But Jonathan would admit that his part of town is better than here, where tensions were at an all-time high.
"Got it. I'll call up Mr. G and tell him I won't be coming tomorrow."
The street sign turned green, and both brothers with the busy residents of Brockton Bay crossed the zebra crossing, heading for their various destinations.
ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ
"W-Wow, you must've really gotten some hard green in order to buy this much stuff." Jonathan said, as they both exited the store.
On both brothers hands were large bags filled with enough food and sundry supplies which would last them a month.
Smirking, Jason replied back. "Nope. This is just my reward for prudently saving the greens for times like this… Oh, you wait here and watch the stuffs, while I'll go get a cab to take us home."
Seeing that his brother had left. Jonathan took his time to take in the citizens of Brockton. As an unclaimed territory, this part of Brockton unanimously fell under the jurisdiction of the PRT. The Wards were also said to be patrolling this area. So it wouldn't have surprised Jonathan if he sees Vista or Kid-Win passing by…
As for the people around here…
"Yep~ they're nervous." Jonathan commented sarcastically.
If Jonathan had given a sparing glance, then he wouldn't have been able to spot anything different in the crowd. But once a closer look is taken, then there would be a different story to tell.
There was a man looking around with fear in his eyes. A woman whose frame felt like it was poised to abscond at the sight of anything suspicious. A girl Jonathan's age, holding her little brother's hand with a bit of trembling in her steps. A policeman standing like a stiff statue, both his hands seemed to be occasionally reaching for his gun…
There was a charged up energy in the air. An energy born out of fear.
And most notably, the Asians walking around were all regarded with looks of suspicion, fear, and hate. Jonathan couldn't exactly blame the populace for that.
Everyone needed a person to blame for the loss of lives and property. Even if the culprit is as clear as day. Cursing Bakuda wouldn't really matter in the long run, so what would people do...
They incorporate a vengeful feeling of racism.
'It was an Asian cape from an Asian gang that killed my son, daughter, father, mother, uncle, and wife. So that means all Asians were killers…'
Jonathan reckons it was something like that.
It was a thought based on an asinine assumption. But it was the opium the widowers, orphans, homeless, jobless so desperately needed, or else they would be driven crazy with depression and in some cases, trigger.
Time must have passed by without Jonathan knowing as the sun had shifted quite a bit, and his brother had finally arrived from his self-given mission.
"Jon. Catch."
Jonathan turned just in time to grab a headphone that had been thrown at him. Inspecting it, Jonathan realized that the headset was of a version he had been eyeing for quite a while, and had even been scrubbing up money to buy.
Jonathan stared slack-jawed at the amused Jason who shrugged.
"You've been wanting one of these ever since they appeared in the market. Figure that while my field is still 'fertile' I could get you one. After all, I know how much you've been dying to hear Canary's voice up close and personal."
The 'thanks' that was about to come out of Jonathan's mouth lost its momentum as Jonathan's eyes began to twitch in embarrassment at Jason's later statement.
"Screw you."
"Oh come on, don't be shy and admit your crush. You know, I've always been wondering why was it that you aren't in a relationship with Brian's sister since she's hot. Then I remember the musician's CDs you usually hide when Aisha comes visiting. Admit it, you have a crush on Canary."
Quickly, Jonathan used the headphone that had been given to him. Placing it around his ears, Jonathan played a rap music at full volume while his brother chuckled at the sight.
It was after five minutes had passed, did Jason nudged him while pointing to the side. The yellow cab which is their ride had finally arrived. Pulling the down his headphone, Jonathan and Jason began loading the taxi with their stuff…
*Sniff* Sniff * Sniff* Hick*…
At first, Jonathan thought his ears were playing with him. Straightening up, Jonathan ignored Jason's bemused look as he turned back looking for the source of tearful sniffing.
No, if it were just sniffing Jonathan might have been able to ignore it. There was more to it… Desperation, resignation, fear, regret, hopelessness.
Jonathan couldn't even begin to describe how is it possible to feel all that 'emotions' unless… He had just triggered.
'Me, trigger? Just from making observations on the city's restlessness? How stupid.'
Still, that gnawing feeling was still there. The sounds of the continuous sniffing stifled his breath.
Soon, Jonathan's eyes landed on the culprit. It was a figure dressed in a black gown that had a hood. Judging from the frame, the mysterious figure was a woman. With a gait that was no faster than a crawl, the woman walked. Mumbling words that Jonathan couldn't understand yet could clearly recognize…
The woman was speaking Japanese.
A cold chill prickled Jonathan's back at the realization of what his observation ambiguously meant.
"Fu-Fuck. Jason, let's get out of here!"
Instinctively, Jonathan abandoned the cab, pulling his elder brother with him as he began to sprint away.
"What's the matter with you, Jon?!"
Jason's nonplused look at Jonathan's hysterics made the later to stop as he hastily explained to Jason with a look of panic in his eyes.
"We've got to run...! I-I think I just saw an ABB suicide bomber."
Jason's eyes dilated at the reply. "Fuc-!"
But it was already too late.
Jonathan 'heard' the ABB bomber whisper a word that felt like an apology, before his world suddenly turned white, and was swiftly followed by an extreme heat.
Then, a calamitous roar.
ᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪ
There was an activity within Jonathan. A sparking of sorts.
Cosmic electricity crackled with a greenish tinge, traversing Jonathan's body as it began to awaken the other genetic material sealed within. It was a gene of an alien origin.
It was just as the Cosmic Raptor decreed. It is finally time for the world to bear witness to the tale of the foreigner within their midst. One, who could be called a human yet at the same time is not.
All the cells within Jonathan's body shone as their potential to evolve infinitely kick-started once more…
The Apex Predator has finally resurfaced.
ᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪᴪ
On that day, a particular district in Brockton Bay brightened as an orb like sun the size of building lit up the area followed with pulsating heat wave. The city rumbled and shuddered at the intensity of the attack.
But then something strange happened…
From the shockwave that occurred, something shot out from the area of the attack with a speed surpassing Mach 3. The mysterious object flew for kilometers, ramming through skyscrapers with enough force that the buildings quivered and shook, but luckily didn't topple.
With a * Bam* it finally landed –or crashed- against the walls of a 27 floor apartment building. And when the debris and dust cleared, the mysterious object was revealed to be a 16 years old, African-American boy.
There was nary a mark on the boy's form despite the speed and velocity of his 'impromptu' flight. Even his clothes, apart from being layered in dust were not torn apart from velocity or g-force.
The person in question appeared to be unconscious. But if one could take a closer a look, then, they would see the line of tears streaming down the boy's face.
The Apex Predator has finally resurfaced in Earth-Bet. Alas, it was at a terrible cost.
Author's Note,
Gah! I can say with all surety that this was one heck of chapter. I was kinda stomped on how to proceed with the school-life, Taylor, his brother, and then how am I to present the Martian into Earth-Bet.
It sure was a challenge I wouldn't mind taking on once in a while… Once in a while I repeat!
Now, I did say in the story that I would explain why was it that Aisha and Jonathan were calling Brian by his cape name instead of his civilian name, but as I was typing this chapter I found out that I couldn't get a perfect spot to insert the reason…
It's not like I won't insert it, But I only want it to appear natural rather than look like an essay instead of a story.
