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 Posted: Thu Jan 15, 2009 10:41 pm
Alright, so. I'm currently writing a fiction novel based loosely on the world of City of Heroes, but about a certain person; a character of mine, so to speak. I had originally intended them to be a series of short stories, but the more I write, the more I think that I'm going to turn them into chapters in a single novel. You know, evidenced by the fact I already called it a novel earlier in this explanation. In any case, this is the first part/chapter, so check it out and feel free to give any constructive criticisms you may have. I'll be sure to answer any questions, but barring anything else... Enjoy.
-Mr. KnoxThe Adventures of Marcus T. Banning
Part I: Origins My name is Marcus T. Banning, and they call me a “superhero.” Personally, I don’t much care for the title, and I don’t think I deserve it. I’m a role model, though, and as such I don’t want to tell those people who call me a “superhero” that I’m not just because I don’t think I deserve it. If they think I deserve it, the only thing I see fit to do is do my best to live up to the title. In my opinion, I think the title of “superhero” should be given to anyone who fights for what they believe to be right. I think the people who stand up for those who cannot stand up for themselves, the people who put their lives on the line to make someone else’s life a better place, and the people who do the right thing, even when no one else is doing it are the ones who should be called “superheroes.” Me? I’m just a man. I’m just a man who was given extraordinary powers, and was left with a choice. I was left with the choice to use these powers for good, to use these powers for evil, or to pretend it never happened and refuse to use them at all. I won’t lie. For a while, I wanted to pretend that it wasn’t real. I pretended I didn’t have those powers. Fate, though, as she always does, had different plans for me. As you might have figured out, I ended up using those powers for good. Fate put me in a situation where I had to choose, and she bet a young woman’s very life on the fact that I had a good heart. It was a cold night, as they tend to be in late September, and I was walking down 3rd towards Continental. Because it was cold, I was wearing my black trench coat. I had just come from work, and as such was still wearing my dress shirt, tie, and slacks. I pulled my coat around me to block some of the wind, and noticed a young girl, probably in her twenties, and wearing summer clothes in the dead of winter. She was almost to Continental when an arm shot out of the alley between apartment buildings and dragged her into the shadows. A low, guttural voice exclaimed something to the effect of, “Well, lookie what we got here!” and she screamed for help. Seconds later, she was silenced, and as I walked by he held a knife to her throat. In that moment, time froze. The man looked at me with wide eyes, full of fear that he had been caught. It’s true, I did look like an officer of the PPD, and his eyes shone with the fear of being caught. That was only for a moment, though, because he remembered that he had a bargaining chip, and his knife was at its throat. His eyes lit up, as though fueled by an inner fire of the darkest hate, and an evil grin swept across his face. The girl was frozen rigid with fear. Her body was taut, as though she thought that if she relaxed even the slightest, her throat would slide down to his knife, killing her instantly. Her skin was pale and freckled, and her entire body trembled ever so lightly with fear. The wind whipped through the alley, blowing through her auburn hair and blew the man’s coat around his body, revealing tattered jeans and a stained white wife beater. It was her eyes, though. The girl whose name I never got, and will always remember, was what drew my gaze. Her eyes were a brilliant, brilliant jade, and they held a look of sorrow within them that seemed to speak to me from her very soul itself. It told me that she was scared for her life, and that she didn’t want to die. It told me that she wanted to live, because she thought she had something worth living for. It told me that if I didn’t help her, no one ever could. That look told me enough that night, and when time resumed, I had made my decision. I may have wanted to pretend my powers never happened, but when a person’s life was on the line, I was not going to stand by and do nothing as she was brutally robbed of everything she’d ever done, and the world itself was robbed of everything she could have been, just for one pathetic man’s instant gratification. The wind gusted once more down the sidewalk, blowing my trench coat and ponytail to my right side. It was probably a rather heroic and awe-inspiring pose, but my thoughts were not on myself. My thoughts were focused solely on saving the life of that young girl, and making sure that the pathetic creature that held the knife to her throat could never, ever do this again. I couldn’t always be there, but I could make sure that I never had to stop this one particular man again. After that gust, the man looked me up and down, and held the knife closer to the girl’s throat. The girl flinched, and her body became even more rigid as she fought the idea of her neck being sliced open at this man’s blade. Her eyes screamed out in terror, but her mouth hung open, and she was unable to utter a single word. The man, however, said plenty more than he needed to in his current situation. “Don’t even think about it, you b*****d,” he told me. “You take one step towards us and I’ll slit her throat. Don’t think I won’t.” As if to prove to me that he would, indeed, kill her, he pushed the blade up into her neck, cutting the skin and drawing a few drops of blood. The girl took a breath and held it, her eyes closing in the pain, but still said nothing. A few tears escaped her eyes, and her body fell slightly, as if to tell me that she had just lost hope, and knew her life was over. I knew what I had to do. I knew how to do it. So the only thing left to do was act upon my knowledge and stop this man. I whispered to the girl, though I highly doubt she heard my words, “Don’t lose hope. Never lose hope.” The man heard me whispering, though he didn’t hear my words either, and started to become angry. “What was that, you p***k? You’d best move along if you know what’s good for you!” he warned me. I glared at him, the wind blowing my ponytail, and said simply, “You said that you’d slit her throat if I took one step towards you.” The look on his face said that he was a bit confused by my statement. Almost as if he figured I was a little “slow” or something, because if someone would have responded to his statement, they’d have done so immediately, not a minute or so after. All he could say was, “What?” “Did I stutter?” I asked him. “You said you’d slit her throat if I took one step towards you. I’m telling you I won’t be moving from this spot.” With that, my eyes turned from a calm, disappointed look to a cold, frigid glare. Without a word, my expressions told the man that he was about to be in a world of hurt, and that it was all his own doing. He picked a fight with the wrong person. I spread my feet and with a quick chant, locked them in place. Then, uttering a few more words, I threw my right hand at the man, palm out, in that fashion that people do when they mean to tell you to stop. His eyes erupted in rage, and he went to finish the girl. The girl saw his gaze, and she knew what he was about to do. Her eyes sprang wide open, fear flooding from every part of her body. Seconds later, she blacked out and fell limp onto the ground. Nothing happened, though. The man looked down at his hand, and made a grunt as if he were tugging on a locked door. The knife, his hand, his arm, and the entire rest of him was frozen in place. A wicked grin swept across my face, because I knew this was already over. I raised my right hand, keeping it palm out, and the man was lifted from the ground, frozen in place. The only thing that moved were his eyes, and suddenly they were no longer filled with hate. They were filled with fear. Compassion swept over me momentarily, but the voice of my practical side told me that letting him go now would mean he would strike again later, and I may not be there to stop it. Once more, my deep blue eyes froze over, and the look of compassion faded into an icy stare. “W-What are you?” the man stammered. Keeping my right arm in place, I pointed my left hand, palm out, at a nearby payphone, and raised my hand slightly. With the sound of crumbling concrete and screeching metal, the payphone gave way and rose into the air a few inches off the ground. My expression never changed, and my right hand slowly went from palm out to a clenched fist. As I clenched my fist, he was crushed by the gravity around him, and he screamed in pain. I clenched my fist harder, and harder, and my eyes were filled with hate. Finally, I stopped the pressure, but didn’t lessen it any either. When he had regained his breath, I looked at him with cold, icy blue eyes that seemed to roar with an inner hellfire, and told him, “My name is Marcus T. Banning. You would do well to remember it.” With that, I swung my left hand as hard as I could towards him, bringing the payphone towards him with enough force to shatter bones. The payphone rocketed through the air and slammed into him at full force. I hoped it was enough to shatter a few of his bones. I hoped it was painful. The payphone would have been the last thing he saw before his world went black, and I released my grip on him, letting his lifeless form fall the twelve feet or so before collapsing on the ground. The lucky b*****d was still breathing. The girl was just regaining consciousness, and looked at me for a moment with those beautiful green eyes, and said nothing. Her mouth hung agape, and her eyes said it all. They asked the same question the man had asked, and they asked me to please not hurt her. I couldn’t blame her. I did not look very friendly as I incapacitated that man. There was a very good chance that I had looked even more evil, and even more hateful than that man himself. My face fell as I realized this, and I couldn’t look at her. I lowered my gaze, and answered her unasked question in the same fashion I had answered the mugger’s. “My name is Marcus T. Banning,” I said. With that, I continued down the sidewalk towards Continental. The girl got up to her feet and followed me, but when she turned the corner onto the sidewalk, I wasn’t there. That’s one of the interesting things about controlling gravity. I can make a miniature wormhole, and place myself wherever I wish to be within the blink of an eye. I watched her look for me from the roof of the apartment complex for a minute, then sighed. Head hung low, I chanted those words again, and in a flash of light I was at my door. I reached into my pocket, grabbed my keys, and unlocked the door. Then I sat on the bed, head in hands, and wondered what tonight meant for me. As I looked up, my gaze was brought to the window, and through its single dingy pane of glass I could see the lights of the city. I could see the navy blue sky as the sun had long since sunk into the horizon, and I could see the glimmering of stars through the glass. They always put me into perspective, those stars. Every single one of them, a brilliantly burning sun much like our own. As I sit there on the bed, I remembered that night just barely over two years ago. I remembered every detail, every little bit, and it’s almost as if there was a slide show ready to be played in my mind. It was the second Friday in November, it and it happened to be the thirteenth. It also happened to be my birthday. My friends and I had gone to the movies. It wasn’t a particularly good show, but it was decent. Then we went to one of those Twenty-Four Hour diners that everyone has, the ones that all have different names, like Norm’s or Denny’s or John’s or whatnot. That was fun. We stayed out all night talking and joking and having a grand time. Then I came home, and once more I was alone. My parents didn’t care. My father was passed out drunk on his recliner, and my mother was upstairs entertaining some of her “guests.” What I remember the most, however, is when I opened the door to my room. I wasn’t paying attention, apparently, because I thought it was my room. It wasn’t. When the door closed, and I looked up, I was not in my room like I thought I was. I wasn’t even in the same state. I was in the middle of the open plains, the kind you see in the movies when the kids get lost camping in Nebraska. The wind was a cool breeze over the plains, causing the grass to wave and sway to and from. The night was cool and refreshing, and the full moon shone brightly down upon the open grasslands, illuminating everything with enough light to see. I could see mountains in the distance in front of me, and nothing but open prairie in every other direction. I can’t quite explain it, but I could, for lack of a better word, “sense” animals near me. I could feel a hare, a herd of bison on my left, a snake in front of me and to my right, and all the little insects crawling around on the ground. I was so caught up with taking in the sights and the strange thing that had just happened to me that I never in my wildest dreams would have thought there’d be someone with me. The voice startled me more than it startled anything around me. “Welcome, Whispering Wind,” it said. The voice came from behind me, and so instinctively I spun around to face the voice. What stood before me was never what I expected. I’ll never forget that face, and it will undoubtedly haunt my mind till the very day I die. When I turned, I found myself face to face with what can only be described as a ghost. Just like in the movies, where the incorporeal are vaguely intangible, but still capable of speech and facial expressions, he stood before me. He was a giant, towering a good foot over me, with deep brownish-red skin and a few tattoos to match. He wore a simple garb, with simple sandals. As I faced him, he smiled at me and spoke slowly, but with a deep, meaningful tone. “We have much to discuss, but very precious little time in which to tell it. I shall be brief,” he said. He bowed his head to me, still standing taller than I did, and continued with his tale. “The Earth is spiraling into disorder. In many places, Chaos reigns over Order, and in others, Order reigns above Chaos. Each life lost causes the Earthmother to suffer, and the balance between Life and Death, Nature and Technology, and Good and Evil is crumbling. A Balance must be restored, and the child born under the climax of the Full Moon would be the one chosen to restore this Balance. On the night of his eighteenth birthday, under the climax of the Full Moon, he will be gifted with the powers of the Earthmother, and tasked with restoring the Balance.” The man finished his speech, raised his head, and smiled at me. Before I could say anything, he raised his hand and placed his palm gently on my left cheek. “You are that man. Whispering Wind in our world, Marcus Tomlinson Banning in yours, be gifted with the power of the Earthmother. Use it well, for the fate of your future rests solely on your shoulders.” His hand glowed green, and I felt a warmth as what could only be described as raw power was transferred to me. I wouldn’t know it till I looked in the mirror, but a tribal tattoo crept across the left side of my face where he left his palm, signifying my power. “Though the fate rests on your shoulders, and only yours, know this, my friend: You are never alone in this fight.” He left me those words as he faded into the plains, and I was left alone. I looked once more to the sky, and when I looked back down, I was once more in my room. Thoroughly shaken, I walked with unsteady steps and collapsed on my bed. For some reason, a wave of tiredness hit me like a locomotive, and my eyes were soon closed, taking me to the land of dreams. It wasn’t long before I opened my eyes again, and glanced at the clock. Three AM. I closed my eyes once more, and found myself in that same spot, lost amid the prairies. This time, the man stood before me, and he was much different than the earlier. He was smaller, thin, and much more hurried. His voice was scratchy, and he sounded as if he had a million and one other things he needed to do. When he realized I knew he was there, he spoke quickly, saying, “The Earthmother senses your power, and thinks it too great to be gifted upon one man, whether he be pure of heart or not. However, she also knows that you will be unable to restore the Balance with any less power. It is my task, therefore, to bring the Champion of Balance a Balance unto himself. Though you be strong in power, and strong in heart, you must be humbled. This curse will give you the Balance you need.” The last thing I remembered was him placing his index finger on my forehead. I woke up the next morning to the alarm buzzing at me, telling me it was six and I had to get up. For some reason it was still set to “everyday.” I chalked the whole thing up to a bad dream, even during those points where I realized I really did have those powers, and eventually figured out what they were. I learned I could control gravity in almost every facet, and still pretended it never happened. I still don’t know what “curse” the little one put on me. I hope I never do. Even now, as I sit on my bed, realizing for the first time that I have accepted who I have become, I want to pretend it isn’t real. I know it is, though. Tomorrow, I know the papers will all say that there’s a “New Hero in Town.” There won’t be much about him, except his name. My name. I don’t know why I gave her my real name. I don’t think I ever will. But I will always remember her. I will always remember that night, and I will always remember that fateful night on my eighteenth birthday. I may be super powered. I may be able to stand up for the people who cannot stand up for themselves. I may put my life on the line for others. And I may do the right thing, even when no one else is doing it, because I know it’s the right thing to do. But I’m just a man. A man named Marcus T. Banning. A man they call a Superhero.
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Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2009 3:51 pm
George_Knox As I sit there on the bed, I remembered that night just barely over two years ago. I remembered every detail, every little bit, and it’s almost as if there was a slide show ready to be played in my mind. George_Knox It was the second Friday in November, it and it happened to be the thirteenth. George_Knox The wind was a cool breeze over the plains, causing the grass to wave and sway to and from. George_Knox His hand glowed green, and I felt a warmth as what could only be described as raw power was transferred to me.
Overal, it's very deep and telling, though you don't really give much on Marcus' emotions here. It's so easy to lose yourself into description of the more physical things than the emotional. All I can tell about Marcus is that he wasn't eager to use his powers, that he's reluctant to follow his fate. But maybe you intended it that way, that Marcus would only describe his unease to emphasize how much he dreads the future.
Also, you wrote his rescue in past tense, but shifted to present tense when you returned from his flashback. You kinda did the same in the first quote sweatdrop
Either way, it's really good. Lovely diction- neither too complicated nor too simple. And very descriptive, though I have yet to know what Marcus looks like besides his eyes. I also like how he could only remember the girl's eyes and how much he read into them. Most usually write 'eyes filled with fear' or something along those lines, so at least two or three sentences on that was heavily appreciated.
^.^
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Posted: Wed Feb 18, 2009 8:54 am
I very much appreciate the criticism, and allow me just one moment here to explain myself as best I can with what I have so far.
As far as the present/past tense goes, this first chapter is meant to be a flashback, though he comes to present tense at the end. It's a chronicling of how he got to where he is right now, and from there on the rest of the book will take off in present tense.
Also, thanks for catching my typos. I've printed this particular chapter out over three times and I've proofed it, I've had my mother proof it, and a few friends proof it too, and every time I read it I find another miniature typo. Now...as far as the confusing sentence goes, it reads right, but I need to find a way to stick a pause between warmth and as, but a comma won't quite do it. He felt the warmth as the power was transferred to him. I'll figure something out, but thanks so much for the input. smile If I ever get around to it, I'll post chapter two up in here too and you'll get a little bit more of a glimpse into Marcus' character. This was just to set you up to see what was happening and such. Can't have you know every little thing about him so soon, just enough to tantalize you to keep reading in the hopes that you'll learn more about him and his exploits. heart
But seriously, thank you very much for the criticism, and I'll look into the things you've said and see if there's anything I can fix up.
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Posted: Sat Feb 21, 2009 2:43 am
I haven't personally read it, but I think I may have something...
His hand glowed green, and I felt a warmth as something that could only be described as raw power was transferred into me.
I dunno if that's perfectly correct, but it should fit what you put.
And... well, I'm sure you can pick this out of Atra's thoughts on the grammar.
The sentence: It was the second Friday in November, it and it happened to be the thirteenth.
I don't think he slipped 'and it' there. It's more likely he slipped the first 'it', by accident. Well, maybe not, but I think 'and it' sounds slightly better there.
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Posted: Thu Mar 19, 2009 6:17 pm
Yah. What Atra said was all I got in terms of changing things. I really liked the story, you did a great job filling me up on descriptions, but I wasn't too full that it hurt and left too empty wanting more.
Marcus could have been out there a bit more, but describing everyone in a story gets bothersome, I know, but a necessary bothersome. XD
Over all, I would like to read more, if the possibility of more is tangible. ^^
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Posted: Sun Apr 05, 2009 1:23 pm
Well, yeah there were some small mistakes, but I want to tell you something about your POV. You are writing in First Person and I'd like to remind you that when you write in first person you can only give a point of view of one character. I know you know this I just wanted to say it to show off my smartness. Hehe. (Someone PLEASE throw a brick at me!) But there is this one part in there that kind of seems off of first person POV. Quote: I wouldn’t know it till I looked in the mirror, but a tribal tattoo crept across the left side of my face where he left his palm, signifying my power. It probably is first person (I don't really know, correct me if I'm wrong.) but I think it would make more sense (to me it would. ^^ wink if you would instead write about how he felt something burning on the left side of his face instead. Then after he wakes up he looks in the mirror and he sees this tattoo (You then describe what it looks like) and the tattoo fades away or stays there whatever you put in your story. I'm not sure if that would work since you made it all past tense, present tense, flashback-like, and stuff so maybe your way DOES make sense and I'm just criticizing for no reason. Either way remember to keep in first person. You'll do a good job. (Good? GREAT! *smacks self*) What I like about your story: 1) YOUR CHARACTER ROCKS! HIS PAST IS SO ORIGINAL, SO AWESOME! THE GIRL HE SAVES IS DIFFERENT! INSTEAD OF BLOND AND BRUNETTE SHE'S A GINGER!!! (Red hair, pale skin, freckles, a ginger.) 2) YOUR IDEA OF THIS STORY! This 'being' giving him powers that could defy the laws of gravity! I have to tell you this, I thought of the same thing! (Only there is no magical 'being' and superhero stuff. The character is born with it.) I haven't made a story like that actually but I do imagine it in my head. One of my fav characters have this power to lift objects in the air, make chemical reactions (example, turn sand into mirrors and reverse it!) and he can fly because he changes his weight and the gravitational pull on himself so he can lift in the air. It's awesome. No stealing now, no matter how awesome. lol Your idea of Banning transporting through wormholes is awesome too. xD (Not as awesome as mine though. *cough* Just Kidding ^^ ) That's about it. Can't wait for more!
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Posted: Fri Apr 17, 2009 12:39 am
Ramen, it's average for first person, in my experience, to have those kinds of sequences. Since first person is, after all, much like someone telling you a story, unlike third person, the one that stays on one person's thoughts and covers the story from their point of view, which usually covers it as though it's currently happening. Meaning, they already have the knowledge, so he can choose to write the feeling of a tattoo appearing, what he would see, or both. Though, his current sentence, from what I see, implies it to be a painless thing.
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Posted: Thu Apr 23, 2009 1:30 am
Well guys, I very much appreciate all the feedback, and I've taken pretty much all of it into consideration. After much thought, I've gone through and fixed what typos I could, changed a few things you all mentioned here and there, and decided to change the story around a bit, and give it a more 'Saving Private Ryan' feel to it. The ENTIRE story is now in past tense, as the story is being told by Marcus himself after all these events have come to pass. I think it flows a bit more smoothly that way, and like I said, gives it that feel of those war movies where someone is telling you their adventures as they lay on their deathbed.
Alright, on to Part II. This chapter is a bit less action packed, but is meant to bring some bearing into just who Marcus is and what he does with his days. He's not a hero just yet, and this is to let the reader see just where he comes from, trying to hide in a normal life that just about anyone could relate to. I only recently finished this chapter and started Part III, so I have not proofed it nearly as much as I had the previous chapter, and there are bound to be far more typos and grammatical errors. However, I do want to see what you all think of where it's going, so any feedback would be fantastic; what you like, what you didn't, and any typos you caught would be extraordinary. But as always, barring all else... Enjoy
-Mr. KnoxThe Adventures of Marcus T. Banning
Part II: Humble Beginnings Sure enough, right on time as always, the alarm went off, buzzing its lovely little hello into my ears at six ‘o clock sharp. Rubbing my eyes, I rolled out of bed and sighed. It was only a Tuesday, and I’d be needed at work for the rest of the working week. As a technician for the community’s everyday computer problems, I’d be spending the better part of my day behind a desk, answering vague and unintelligent questions with equally vague and annoying technical advice. On occasion, someone might actually have brought their computer in for me to look at, and I would actually be able to do something for them. It was always nice to be able to help people, but there wasn’t much I could do about it most of the time. There’s only so much help to be had on a phone call, after all. After a quick shower, I found my way to the closet and pulled out yet another pair of black slacks, another white shirt, and a black tie from the seemingly endless numbers of them hanging on the far end of the closet. A pair of black socks and my dress shoes later, and I was ready to face the long day at work. After getting dressed, it wasn’t long before I made my way to the kitchen to make some breakfast. It took a moment of musing over whether it was worth the effort to make some Cream of Wheat, or easier to just pour myself a bowl of Cheerios, but I finally decided to compromise and make some instant oatmeal. Maple and brown sugar was always a favorite, but as luck would have it, the box had no more. All that was left were a bunch of oatmeal raisin packets, and after some digging around, I managed to extract an apple and cinnamon. I put the water on, then went to the door to get the paper from where it should have been, just outside the door. Much like the alarm clock, it too was on time, and was patiently awaiting my arrival so that it could do what a newspaper was made to do: Have the headlines read, the sports highlights read, the comics read, and then be recycled. If I wanted world news, I could find far more with far less hassle on some news website. The front page was littered with the usual, things the government recently tried to do, stupid things that officials somewhere blurted out, robberies, murders, and the like. If there was one thing the newspapers loved to do, it was compete with news shows. And news shows had to compete with other shows. Shows with secret agents and guns and explosions, shows with people doing dangerous and oftentimes disgusting things for money, and the classic shows of stupid people saying stupid things and generally embarrassing themselves and their families on national television. So, to compete with these sorts of ratings, the newspaper told me all the terrible, horrible things the suddenly not-so-inviting world beyond my front door held waiting for me. I flipped it over and perused the headlines on the local news section, which held pretty much the same thing, but on a much lower scale. This one attempted to capitalize on the feeling of fear you already had about the world after reading the front page, and told you that it was just as dangerous in your home as it was outside. I sighed, and was just about to flip that over to the sports section to see how my fantasy team did last night when I caught a small headline near the bottom of the page. It was about a young woman who was almost raped last night. They had a picture of her, and when my eyes locked onto it, I nearly choked on my breath. It mentioned that she was almost raped, but a man came and saved her before the ruffian could fulfill his insidious desires. She didn’t mention the man’s name, and she didn’t mention the fact that he held superpowers just as a couple other far more prominent citizens of the fair Paradise City held, and she didn’t mention what he looked like at all. It was almost as if she knew what would have happened if my name were released to the public, and chose not to. She sent a clear message, though, because the newspaper quoted her. Most times, the paper misquotes everyone they talk to. This one didn’t seem that way. “Were it not for the man who saved me, I wouldn’t be telling you this right now. You’d be reporting about a murder near 3rd and Continental. He saved my life. Who knows who else might need the same help some day?” it said. Maybe she didn’t mean to drive that message home, but she did. Or the paper did. I wasn’t really sure. It all hit kind of hard, what with the thought that maybe suddenly I would be needed again, called upon once more to save the lives of others. I couldn’t hide forever. I had these powers. And I had to save the world. That one was a bit hard to swallow, but if what the man had said on my 18th birthday was indeed true, and it sure helped his argument that I actually had the power he “gifted” me with, then I was truly destined to bring balance back to the world. Hard to stay in the shadows and pretend you don’t have superpowers when you’re destined to save the world, I figured. But at what cost? And how? Questions started to fill my head and were surely going to drive me batty when a sharp whistle cut through the silence to tell me that the water was hot and my oatmeal would soon be ready. I poured the water into the bowl, let the oatmeal soak it up, then proceeded to have my breakfast while checking the sports. Apparently my fantasy team did pretty well last night. Not fantastic, but definitely good. I got the win, seven strikeouts, four runs, and the save. After finishing the oatmeal, a quick glance at my cell phone told me that it was time to head out to work. The bowl would have to wait until my return, as it was just about eight, and I was almost already running late. As I locked the door and headed down the stairs and towards the subway, I couldn’t help but to let out a sigh of discontent. I didn’t get to read the comics. It wasn’t too long before the subway reached my stop, and the usual throng of people pushing and shoving their way ahead of each other in a mad rush to sit behind a desk for eight hours made its way up the stairs and to the open streets above. Personally, I was in no rush, and so I simply followed slowly behind the mob . Chase Media was just about a block from the station, so I was in no rush. As it was, the subway was on time and left right when it was supposed to, so I wasn’t behind anymore, and I was actually a few minutes early. A few more mobs of people later, I ducked out of the cool air and into the store, where I was cordially greeted by the few of my colleagues that were already there. “Marc!” they shouted over the customers already here, and they waved at me as though I couldn’t see them. They were just kids, but they looked up to me and respected me. I was just a technician, but they treated me as a leader. Just another testament to the character of a hero. I shrugged that thought off as best as I could, rolled my eyes and grinned, responding with, “Hey, guys. What’s goin’ on?” No one really had a good answer, and so I got a lot of ‘okay’ and ‘eh’ in return. I made my way to the counter on the far side of the store, where the computer repair station was. It was pretty much its own section of the store, much like the tire-change section of a car parts store was on the side from the main store, but still a part of the company. I never used the little swinging doors they had on the far end of the counter. I always just vaulted over the top. The store manager hated it, but I was a good worker and an icon among the other employees, so I got a lot of leeway when it came to some of the smaller things. I went around back behind the counter into the repair center, slid out of my trench coat, and hung it up on a peg inside my locker. Then a quick spin around, a waltz to the Muzac system, and a few buttons later, my choice of music was playing throughout the store and I was ready to face the day of nincompoops bringing their computer problems to my attention, hoping that I could somehow bring peace to their shattered world by making their internet work again. Little old ladies who needed the internet for email and recipes, businessmen that needed their laptops for their important work, and even kids that needed their gaming fix all came to the same place, and I was now ready to take them all on. But I was never prepared, no, couldn’t have been prepared, for what happened next. The manager was advancing towards me, and next to him was a gorgeous young woman. She was dressed as though she was reporting for work, but the amount of paperwork in her hands almost led me to believe she’d just purchased a brand new computer. As they got closer, I could start to see the girl a bit better. She had pale skin, a beautiful white smile, and freckles dotting her face. Her hair was wavy, reached the middle of her back, and was a magnificent auburn. Her white buttoned blouse almost seemed to sway with the grace of every step she took, and her knee length pencil skirt offered just another way to view her as graceful and important. My manager seemed to stomp his way up to the counter, and next to him, she seemed to float. It was like an invisible photo shoot for her. Or perhaps I was just carelessly staring at an attractive woman. Either way, I was rather taken aback. As they got closer, I looked at my manager quizzically, as if to ask ‘Who is she?’ My gaze then fell back on the woman, who was now looking directly at me. It was right there, at that exact moment, that time seemed to freeze. The world around me froze, and everything stopped for just a few seconds. I know my heart stopped for about that long, even if the rest of it was only my imagination. She stared back at me with brilliant jade eyes, and I had never in my life wanted to be somewhere else more than in that moment. I’m sure I could’ve been gone; sent to anywhere in the world in a flash of light, but then all I’d worked for would vanish before my eyes. Everything I’d done to pretend to be normal, everything I’d faked being to hide these godforsaken powers, all of it would be for naught. So the two of them walked towards me, every one of her steps shaking my world until I was certain that it would give and shatter. I was sure she would recognize me at any moment, and it would all come crashing down. Marcus T. Banning would no longer be known as simply an average computer technician, but would be a man they would call a superhero. In those fateful few moments, my fear almost overcame me. Ideas flashed through my brain, weighing out the different scenarios and how they would play out. Part of me wanted to disappear right then and there, but I knew it would mean giving myself away. I tried to justify it, but kept coming to the same conclusion. If I used my powers to leave that situation, I could never come back to my normal life. It would all be disappear, just like I had, in a flash of light in front of all these witnesses. It mattered not how badly I wanted out, though, because the fear of losing my ‘normal’ life far overrode my current fears, and so I stayed firmly planted to the spot. It was in that split second before they got to the counter that I began to curse myself inwardly, telling myself that my ‘normal’ life wasn’t even real. It was all a lie. I was Marcus T. Banning, I was a superhero, and I was living a lie. Leaving now in that brilliant flash of light wasn’t running away. It would mean I was finally telling the truth. I almost did it. Right there, I almost uttered the words to cast that spell, and my body tensed up just before I would have done it. But I didn’t. It was still the fear talking, and though it spoke the truth, I couldn’t give up my normal life just yet. So there I stood, riveted to the spot, watching fate walk right up to me with steps that shook my resolve with each and every click of her heels. Only, she didn’t recognize me like I thought she would. She didn’t recognize me because it wasn’t her. She could’ve passed for her twin, but the woman before me was not the woman I had rescued in that alley last night. At this realization, I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to focus my attention on the manager, who had been talking for a few moments before I had actually started listening. “It seems your reputation precedes you, Banning,” he was saying. “I’d like to introduce you to your new protégé, Michelle Waters. She’s a student at Paradise Tech studying computer functions, and this job counts as class credits for her. Apparently the Tech geeks over at PT said that training under you would be more of a learning experience than any class she could take,” he added. Michelle nodded at me, with a smile full of happiness and apparent excitement, then opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by my manager. He did that a lot. “I think the lot of ‘em are crazy, but if she turns out at as good as you, who am I to argue a good worker I don’t have to train? That’s your job, Banning,” he told me. Then, turning to the woman, “If you have any questions, Michelle, I’ll be in my office. You kids get to work.” As quickly as he had approached, he was gone. He turned on heel marched his way back to his own little sanctuary, complete with no windows and a door with a lock. Sometimes I thought he had it better than me, but then there were times where he dropped a beautiful young woman off with me and said that I was in charge. Times like that made his office seem more like a cage than a sanctuary. We both watched him walk the distance to his office, and then as his door closed, we turned to look at each other. Her beautiful jade eyes looked up at me, and she was practically glowing with excitement. She held the binder and papers to her chest and smiled wide, almost like a child at the front gates of an amusement park. I looked at her and cocked an eyebrow, about to ask her just what she was looking at and why she looked so happy, when she answered my unasked question for me. She seemed ready to burst with questions and chatter, and sure enough, it was like she couldn’t contain it anymore. “So you’re really the tech that built half of the computers in our computer lab with the spare parts we had lying around? And you really did it in just a few hours? That is so incredible!” she exclaimed. I didn’t remember building fifteen. In fact, I was pretty sure I built five or six. And I was also pretty sure that it took me almost a week. I was about to tell her this when she made her way around the counter, saying, “Okay, so we have a lot to go over, and a lot to talk about, and I totally don’t want to bore you with all the stories I’ve heard of you, so let’s get started.” She linked her arm in mine, then led me back into the tech room, where the lockers were, and where the laptop I was working on was sitting on my workbench with a screwdriver sticking out of it and six keys missing. I looked back out at my coworkers as I was practically dragged into the workshop, and they all either had the look of confusion that I myself held, or the look of awe and congratulations as though I had just scored what they would call a ‘mega-hottie.’ She sat down at the desk and placed her binder and paperwork in front of her, and then smiled at me with those sparkling green eyes, waiting patiently for me to take the lead and teach her everything I knew. I wasn’t exactly sure of what to do, since I had never been a teacher, and I had never been a very good trainer, so I sat down across from her and looked back at her with the same look of confusion that I’d had plastered to my face for the past few minutes. Finally, after a moment’s pause, I started to get some bearings on what had happened and the situation I was in. I had graduated with honors from Paradise Tech not two years ago, and while I had made a magnificent impression, I wasn’t aware I’d created a legacy. But here she was, seated before with excitement and joy, happy to be learning everything I knew. “Well then, where should we start?” I asked her. “How about with the most basic stuff, and then work our way up?” she said. I nodded, and grabbed the desktop from the back room that we used to train our techs. It wasn’t long before I felt more and more comfortable around her, and soon we were laughing and generally having a good time. She was a very quick learner, and while she knew most of the basics, there were a few tricks and tips I taught her that helped her grasp the mechanics of the harder parts a little better. We worked on the computer for the better part of the day, then went to lunch. We had gone next door to a small sandwich shop, and spent the lunch hour talking about the school and the things that had changed since I had graduated. When we got back to the store, the both of us were laughing and having a wonderful time. Any day I didn’t have to deal with the general population’s computer problems was a great day for me, and now it was compounded with meeting this incredible young woman who was so much like myself in almost every way. It was almost a shame I was who I was, because I knew it meant that she would never be more than a coworker and a friend, and chances are would walk out of my life just as easily as she had walked into it. For a moment, though, I thought she was almost glowing with happiness. Not like the description for how happy she was and how much fun she was having, but literally glowing because of the fun she was having. She seemed to glow a very, very light green, but the tint was there for a second. I shook it off as a wave of peace and calm washed over the both of us, and I looked once more into her soft jade eyes and couldn’t help but to smile. That particular Tuesday had turned out to be one of the best I’d ever had. The wave of happiness seemed to wash over both of us, and happier she was, the more she smiled, the stronger it became. It was like she emanated an aura of emotion, and right now, she was having what felt like a good a time as I was. I shook that thought off too, telling myself that she was just a normal young woman and that the feelings I felt were simply emotions. It’d been a long time since I felt those particular feelings, and I hadn’t really dated or even spent any time with just myself and a girl, but the feeling was familiar nonetheless. When our shift was over, we were both disappointed, but at the same time, happy with how things had turned out. She still had a lot to learn if she was to learn everything I had to teach, and I was more than happy with this fact. When we left the building, she hailed a cab, so I waved and said my goodbyes as I headed for the subway. It was late, but frankly, I didn’t mind too much. My day had been far too good to let something so trivial bring me down. When I returned home to my apartment, I unlocked the door, made myself dinner, and then took care of the dishes before crashing onto the couch to watch a movie. I couldn’t get Michelle out of my head, and I smirked a little at the fact. It was easily the best Tuesday of my life. I watched my movie, made myself some popcorn, and then staggered to my room and crashed on my bed, still wearing my work clothes. As I drifted off to sleep, my last conscious thought drifted across my head, and I cursed myself with a smile as I fell asleep. The paper was still on the table, and I still hadn’t read my comics.
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Posted: Mon May 25, 2009 12:57 am
Why has no one commented on this yet?! I have no time right now to review, but why isn't anyone expressing their opinions?! *fumes*
George, I'll read in the morning, but I gotta sleep now.
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