Spartan: Year One

[wolfsfang]

This kid is certainly a Superman / Spider-Man hybrid.

I likey. I likey a lot

That is a great compliment cuz I absolutely hate Superman and normally anything to do with him.

 

[Swordmaster]

Why I thank you. Next chapter up soon

 

[Snipershot]

im looking forward to more

 

[Swordmaster]

Five​

The break went by fast. After reminding Dad Christmas was approaching, we got a tree (Well, I got the tree. Someone foolishly left it outside their house, all tied up. Heh…not that that’s what I told Dad). For the first time in almost a decade, we had a Christmas, just the two of us, seeing as my Dad’s parents are long since dead, and the ones on my mom’s side stopped speaking to us years ago. Present-wise, I got Dad a new suit and tie set (with help from my friends) and he got me a sleeveless black shirt, black jeans, and an awesome black denim jacket. But my favorite was the “classic” Superman shirt.
After Christmas, my Dad got a great job at a nearby hospital (and by great I mean pays handsomely) and I plotted with Leon and Jackson. The only downside was that I never got to see Briana throughout the whole thing. “Skiing in the mountains,” Leon told me.
***
The Monday we were due back, I overslept. I know, typical me. My dad had to come in and wake me up as he was about to leave the house. He said my snores alerted him to my current location. He was in his scrubs, and I was in my nightie…I mean nightshirt. It was an interesting contrast. I looked at my new cell phone’s clock and saw it was seven-twenty. I was due in school in twenty minutes “****!” I yelled. I said “Bye” to Dad then speed showered, washed, changed into the uniform, and grabbed money for lunch before dashing out of the house to go to school.
***
I arrived at seven twenty-eight, exactly. Not my personal best time, but not bad. I smoothed out the rumples in my outfit and walked into the building. No one gave me a second glance as I walked in. Perfect. No suspicions. I went to my locker, got my books, shoved them in my backpack, and went to visit my friends.
I went to the usual spot and saw Leon and Jackson, but no Briana. I stormed up to them, about to ask where she was, when I heard a very distinct giggle behind me. I smirked. “Briana,” I said. I turned around and saw her wearing a shocked expression on her face. “How’d you know it was me?” she asked, incredulous. I thought for a moment about revealing everything to her, but something stopped me. “Uh…Kyle?” she said, breaking into my thoughts (ie. Slapping my head). “Earth to Cyber-Carrot, anyone there?” “Uh…yeah ,” I stuttered. “Just thinking.” “About what?”
It’s amazing. Even with amazing powers I act the same around her. I thought for a minute. “About how you’re gonna kill Jackson and Leon for telling me that you were gonna sneak up on me.” The two looked shocked at each other, then ran away. Briana and I laughed for a while, then she turned to me.
“So are you alright? Your dad called me when you were waking up from your coma, but I was already at my tournament. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I assured her. “I’m fine. Really,” I insisted in response to her skeptical look. “The only bad thing about it is that I didn’t get to see you for almost a month.”
She blushed, and I think I heard her heart race. I was about to ask out when the bell rang. We parted ways, and I made my way to art.

 

[Swordmaster]

I found Jackson in front of the classroom, glaring angrily at me. I laughed. “What?” I asked completely innocently. He just continued to glare. “So, you know the plan?” I asked, which is funny, because he does absolutely nothing whatsoever in it. He responded as much. “Good man,” I said, patting him on the back. When the late bell rang, I dashed to the little boy’s room and pulled from my backpack jeans, sneakers, a ski mask, and the classic Superman shirt I got for Christmas. I grinned as I put the articles of clothing on.
***
When I was finished changing, I webbed the backpack to the ceiling and ran back to the art room, where I heard Seafard *****ing about me not being in class. Again. I didn’t need super-hearing to do so: She was screaming at the top of her lungs. Which, you know, is pretty loud and raspy, as she’s a chain smoking crack ****e. I ran into the room and leaped firing a webline as I did. No one saw me, I’m sure, except Jackson, and he was looking out for me. I saw his eyes track me, so I put a finger to my lips in the “shh” position. He nodded, but Seafard caught him.
“What are you looking at, you snot-nosed fart-brain?” That was my cue. I descended on my webline. “Snot-nosed fart brain? That’s the best you’ve got, you old hag?” I said in a deeper, more cockier voice of my original. She turned around, ready to yell at whoever said that, but instead wheezed when she saw that I said that. Or, it could be that I was hanging from the ceiling in a web yo-yo. Either/or.
“Let’s see what you have in your pocket, shall we?” I fired a web line and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. I wagged my finger at her. “Smoking kills,” I said with mock severity. “I’m gonna have to give you detention for that.” With that, in one fluid motion, I ripped off her hair (which, I neglected to mention before, was Marge Simpson like), revealing it was a wig. The whole class burst out laughing. She stood there for a minute, then, bawling, ran out of the room.
There was an awkward silence for a minute, which I broke by saying, “Ummm…Drugs are bad, mmkay?” I let go of the webline and sped away.

 

[wolfsfang]

This is good, mmkay.

Anything that uses a south park reference is good in my eyes

 

[Swordmaster]

Kyle's a big South Park fan, what can I say?

 

[wolfsfang]

I would put a SP reference in my Venom script, but somehow I think it would contrast with the grim stark tones I have already established.

Still it works for your story cuz it is exactly something a teenager with superpowers would do. Well I would have at least.

 

[Swordmaster]

Considering that, I , a teenager, would have done what I wrote, I can safely say you're not alone

 

[wolfsfang]

I'm just not sure if I would use my powers to help people. But that is just me.

So is he going against some crime boss? A Lex Luthor to his Superman, or is someone else going to get superpowers? A Green Goblin to his Spider-Man

 

[Swordmaster]

I'm just not sure if I would use my powers to help people. But that is just me.

So is he going against some crime boss? A Lex Luthor to his Superman, or is someone else going to get superpowers? A Green Goblin to his Spider-Man

That's part of his inner conflict too. You just don't see it yet


It doesn't really fall into any of those categories. It's...different, to be vague

 

[Swordmaster]

Six

According to various reports from certain teachers, “the mysterious masked man” plagued several classes all over the school. The fact that all the classes were taught by hated teachers didn’t have any impact at all on any of the classes I chose. Nope. Not at all.
As the bell for first periods end rang, I was already outside the art room, back in my uniform, waiting for a certain horse-phobic friend to come out. When he did, he immediately confronted me. “DUDE!” he yelled with no subtlety at all, causing all attention in the hall to divert to him. I glared at him, and his voice became a whisper when I everyone went back to their tasks. “You were awesome!” he whispered. I smirked (which I do a lot, I know). “I know,” I said
I parted ways with Jackson and made my way towards History. Outside the room, Leon was waiting, arms folded. I was expecting him to start reprimanding me. As the voice of conscience in the group, he opposed the plan, saying it was too “evil”. I “accidentally” singed him with my heat vision, which shut him up immediately. He hasn’t forgiven me for that. He was also part of one of the classes I attacked, so he knew what I did.
I approached him, waiting for the inevitable verbal beat-up. It never came. He was given a high-five instead. Leon used many adjectives to describe my exploits: “Amazing” “Awesome”. “Spectacular” were a few. “I particularly enjoyed your use of chalk, ” he enthused. “What can I say?” I said. “I was inspired.”
We walked in and I took my seat, right in front of Briana. “Psst,” she whispered in my ear. I leaned my head back. “Was your class visited by some guy wearing a Superman shirt?” Suppressing a smile, I said, “Yeah! It was awesome! He ripped off our teachers wig and made her leave! Which is, you know, good, seeing as she was a total *****. How about you?”
She laughed and said, “Yeah. The guy came down on some sorta web and embarrassed our teacher, too, causing him to leave. After that, he gave us some huge-ass lecture on why Batman Begins was the best Batman movie ever. It was weird as hell. But funny, too.”
I leaned back up, grinning.
Mr. Franks, the “cool teacher” walked in and started teaching us about the Spartan warriors. “In my opinion,” he said, “the greatest warriors who have ever lived.” He started to explain the Battle of Thermolypae. I sat, fascinated.
***
At lunch that day, the four of us were discussing nothing in particular, when Geoff Wyners (pronounced “wieners”), the friendless school ******, walked up to our table and squeezed in between me and Briana. My Battle Sense didn’t warn me, so I couldn’t prepare myself. I felt my eyes flash red (as they do when I get angry; it’s part of my heat vision/anger connection), causing, Leon and Jackson to look at me and each other with great anger.
“Yo-yo baby,” Wyners said, talking to Briana and putting his arm around her, “how’s about youse and me go out sometime?” Did I mention Wyners was a Junior, and thus this was totally perverted?
“Yeah, uh, no thanks Geoff,” she said. “Come on, Bree-Bree” (This caused my eyes to flash red with even more intensity), “I know how to show girls a good time.”
“Um, if you mean by “girls” you mean your Barbie dolls, than yeah, I can believe you,” I piped in. “Because, you know, you’ve never met a girl who can stand you.” Leon, Jackson, and Briana laughed, but Wyners turned and glared at me. My Battle Sense raged, and my super speed kicked in, but I didn’t want to reveal my spectacular abilities, so I let the punch hit me in the chest. For added effect, I threw myself to the ground. It didn’t hurt, even tickle, but I had to act like it did.
“ARRGGH!” I cried, rolling around on the ground in fake agony. I looked up and saw Leon and Jackson smirking at each other, but Briana looking truly upset. I wish I didn’t have to put her through that, but what she did next made it worth it.
Using her super karate moves, she threw Wyners off the table. A second later he rose, enraged, and started assaulting Briana with a barrage of poorly executed punches. She blocked them all. Having had enough, Wyners unsheathed a knife and lunged at Briana.
By this time, a crowd had drawn around us, and they all gasped when he took out the knife.
My rage triggered my heat vision, and I aimed it all at his knife. It became white hot, and he dropped it. Using his confusion against him, Briana proceeded to knock Wyners out with a well-placed kick to the nads.
The whole cafeteria cheered.

 

[Swordmaster]

Seven

Seasons changed and time passed by. Seafard took advantage of early retirement and Geoff got kicked out of school and sent to juvey. Everything else remained relatively normal. I kept the outfit I used that day just in case.
On the last day of school, during last period, I was talking to my friends about vacation plans. We were all doing absolutely nothing this summer. What broke this peace was the fire alarm. It shrilled, and Mrs. Maguire, our teacher, hurried us outside. Hearing the crackle of the flames, I could determine that this wasn’t a drill. This was the real thing.
Outside, we were all talking about what caused the fire. I looked somewhat guiltily at the flames. I thought that there was something I could do. Reading my mind, Leon pulled me aside. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t. You can’t do anything. Everyone’s been evacuated, so there’s no one to save. Just sit tight, dude.” He patted my shoulder, and I nodded, when I heard a couple talking to a cop. The mom was tearfully saying, “My baby girl’s in there! I need to go get her, please!” The cop refused. I used my hearing to see if I heard any screams. Sure enough, there was one. Coming from the boiler room, of all places.
Without second thought, I ran faster than I ever did into a nearby alley and ripped open my shirt, revealing the ‘S’ of my Superman shirt. I changed into the rest of the outfit, threw on the ski mask, and swung into the building. Shocked cries rang out, all wondering who that was, all coming from parents. The students knew who I was. And they cheered.
***
Inside, I immediately dashed into the boiler room. Flames surrounded me. The heat merely tickled. In front of me was the little girl, likely from the neighboring elementary school, being held hostage by…
“Geoff Wyners,” I whispered, surprised. “Oh look,” he sneered to no one in particular. “The Superman wanna-be comes to save the day.” He, clearly, was nuts. I told him as much. He frowned at me in response. “The shrinks at Shryker’s don’t think so, apparently. How else would I be here, released early for good behavior?”
“What are you doing?” I asked. Wyner’s eyes flashed with anger. “Getting revenge on the ****e who put me here. And everyone else, for not accepting me.”
Okay, I don’t care what the shrinks said. He’s nuts. “Just give me the girl and come with me. I can get you help.” He was the last person I expected myself to say that to, but the fates play odd with their playthings, I guess.
In response, he pulled out a pistol (his dad’s, he said) and started loading a clip into me. The bullets bounce off me with ease. I let him empty the clip at me, or so I thought. He aimed the pistol at the girls’ head.
“I’ve got one shot left here, masked man, and it’s going straight through this kids skull.” Shocked, I sped towards him and grabbed the gun from him with ease. I used it to knock him unconscious, then threw it on the floor. I took the little girl by the hand, saying “It’s okay, kid. You’re safe now.” She smiled at me.
I hefted Wyners over my shoulder and began to run out. I could tell that the building was collapsing. I could hear its infrastructure breaking. I doubled my speed as I webbed the two bodies to my own.
I saw window at the end of the hall. My last chance. Against my bodies will, I ran again, and leaped out of the window just in time.
Almost.

 

[Swordmaster]

***
The explosion knocked me back with great force. I flew over the crowd, out of control, until somehow I was able to stop myself in min-air long enough for me attach a webline to a nearby tree branch. Using it, I landed safely, with all passengers intact. I quickly found the girl’s parents and gave her to them. She hugged me good-bye. I was taken aback, but I returned it. She looked up at me and asked, “Why didn’t you leave the bad man in the school?” I smiled sadly at her and said, “Heroes don’t kill.” Her parents thanked me, and I smartly saluted in exchange. I started to walk away, but the principal, Mr. Griff (or, as I call him, Rolly-Polly-Olly) wobbled over to me. “Stop!” he yelled when he approached me, spitting all over my sexy ski mask. He turned to the cop. “I demand this…abomination against society be arrested at once!”
The cop looked at me, confused. I shrugged. “On what charges?” the cop asked. Rolly started rambling various crimes out of his fat mouth, none of which applied to me. The cop shook his head. “Um…sir, I don’t know if you realized it, but this “abomination” just saved a little girl from a burning building. He’s okay in my book. What’d you do, eat a sandwich? Or a deli, in your case?”
I laughed. I liked this guy. Rolly turned from the officer to me, many times. Too many, in my opinion. “Who are you?” he asked me. I waved him closer to me. I said into his ear, “I’m Batman”.
This time the cop laughed. Rolly turned to us, red-faced. “I am leaving. Good day sirs!”
I flipped him off as he rolled away, and then turned back to the cop. “So…who are you?” “Sergeant Gary Russell, at your service. And you are?” I paused for a minute. “I’ll let you know. See you around, Sarge,” I said, speeding away.
***
Minutes later, I rejoined my friends, back in my regular garb. “What’d I miss?” I asked. They all turned to face me. Leon and Jackson shot me knowing looks. Briana stared at me with an expression I couldn’t read. “Just that masked guy swinging into a building, and minutes later coming out with a little girl and Geoff Wyners, of all people, attached to him.” “Huh, go figure,” I replied. “And where were you anyway, Kyle?” she demanded of me.
Again, I toyed with the notion of telling her, but again, I avoided it. “…The bathroom, where else?” was all I could get out. Briana, quite possibly the love of my life, squinted her eyes at me and stalked away.
Once more, Leon brought me aside. “Don’t you realize what you’re doing, dumbass? You’re pushing her away from you. These…powers…have made you into a cocky *******. I’ve been noticing this for months. So has she.”
“How would you know?” I said, my tone carefully controlled, but my eyes revealing my anger. “She told me. She really likes you, Kyle. But you push her away everyday,” he said, walking away.
“Ah, don’t worry about him,” Jackson interjected, apparently eavesdropping. “He doesn’t know what it’s like, having great power and all.” “And you do, Jackie Boy?” I hissed. Jackson moved back, as if I pushed him. “N-no, Kyle. It’s just…you didn’t realize, did you?” “Realize what?” I snapped. “Your face when you came back to us. You were a man exhilarated. It was…it was like you enjoyed being a hero.”
I looked at him, this time a sad smile painted on my face. “You might be right,” I said, walking away, feeling more confused than ever.

 

[Swordmaster]

Eight​

After all the commotion at the school (which now sits as a pile of brick and ash) was done, I went straight to my room and started thinking. Upon hindsight, I realized Leon was right. Over the past few months I realized that Briana was somewhat distancing herself from me, and now I knew why. I sat reflecting on that for a while until Dad, downstairs, said “Hey, Kyle, want some pizza for dinner tonight?” I didn’t respond, so that must have concerned him, as he walked in a minute later.
“Kyle? What’s wrong, bud?” he asked. After debating with myself for a minute, I told him everything, from the fire to what Leon told me. “Well, I already knew about what you did at the school.” The bewilderment on my face must have been evident, as he chuckled, “Kyle, your exploits were on the news. Did you really think a super-powered teenager saving a little girl would have escaped notice? You did well today, and I’m proud of you for that. My son, a hero. Who would have thought?”
I shook my head. “That’s not the problem, though, Dad. It’s not that I played hero, it’s that I enjoyed it. Add that to what Leon told me about being Super-Ass, and I’m more confused than a teenaged Michael Jackson. Okay, maybe not that confused.” Dad laughed, than replied, “You know, these two “problems” aren’t mutually exclusive.” I looked at him, a look of skepticism on his face. “What’choo talkin’ ‘bout, Pops?”
He started at me. “One, never say that to me again. Two: if you can ‘meld’ the two personalities together, the hero and the *******, then I think your problem is solved.”
It took me a minute to determine what he meant, then I looked up at him in shock. “Dad…” I began. “Are you telling me to become a hero?” “Of course not, Kyle. That would be irresponsible. I am not saying ‘Kyle Wyatt’ should become a superhero. But, if someone with the exact powers and abilities as you appeared out of nowhere and started helping people, that would be just fine.”
Dad smiled, patted me on the back, and walked to the door. After determining what he just said, I called, “But Dad! How do I make that work?” His only reply? “You’ll think of something!”
I laid down on my bed, sighing, when an idea hit me. I got up and got the new cell phone I got for a years end present, and dialed the numbers of Leon and Jackson
***
A month later, the three of us met up again. I had talked to them and told them my plan. It made them all freakishly excited. I had called Jackson and had him sketch various costume designs for me to use when I had to. When he was done, they came to my house and we started mulling over the designs. A vast majority of them were not unlike Spider-Man’s tights. I looked up at him. “Yeah…you’re not obsessed at all. Don’t you have anything else? I mean, these are great drawings and all, but there is no way you’re getting me in tights. They make my ass look big.”
Leon laughed at that, and we looked at each other. We had talked about what he’d said on the last day of school, and I’d apologized and told him the plan. Besides being freakishly excited, he also thought it was a good, interesting way to keep the two personas separate.
“So,” Leon said. “What’s your name gonna be? Every superhero has got to have a super name. How about Super-Ginger? Ginger-Man? Spiderginger? Or this: Superspidergingerman?”
It took me a minute to realize he was joking. When I did realize it, and punched him lightly on the arm. He fell to the ground. “Whoops,” I said. “My bad.” I offered him my hand, which he accepted. I turned back to Jackson. “But seriously, don’t you have any other designs?” Jackson rolled his eyes angrily and took out a final one.
It was a drawing of me. It was AWESOME! On my head were sunglasses and a facemask that covered half my face (nose down). For the torso, there was a similar shirt to the one I wore during the last day at school, except the ‘S’ was raised. Covering this shirt was a blue denim jacket, with three red slash marks on each forearm. On the back of the jacket was a large, angular red spider. And, finally, on my legs were blue jeans, and on my feet were boots.
I looked up, grinning ear to ear. “You know, Jackie Boy…I think I can work with this.”

 

[Swordmaster]

Nine

The summer passed by way too fast. The plan was not yet implemented, as there was no need for it to be. And just like that, school was upon us again. Since the school here in Edmont burned down, we got relocated to this brand-spanking new school in Xavier City. That morning, I got up a half-hour early, washed up, got dressed, and then thought about what I was going to say to Briana. I hadn’t seen her all summer, and I needed to apologize to her for everything that happened last school year, but I didn’t know how. Then, it hit me: Just say sorry. It was brilliant!
When enough time had passed, I dashed off to school. I met up with my three friends at the Usual Spot. Some things never change. Leon and Jackson, noting my approach, walked away, knowing what I was going to do. “Um…hi, Briana.” She turned and faced me, her face lighting up for a second then darkening. “Oh. Hi, Kyle,” she said coldly. Great for me. “Um…listen, Briana. I’m…sorry for what I did last year. I just…had a lot of stuff going on, but that doesn’t excuse what I did. You didn’t deserve any of that, so I’m sorry. You don’t have to forgive me, but…I just wanted you to know.” I turned and went to walk to my first period class (I think it was Math. Ugh.).
“Kyle, wait!” she called after me. I stopped and turned around. Her face was a mixture of emotions that I couldn’t read, but her heart was racing. She caught up with me and smiled. “Thanks. For the apology, I mean. It…means a lot.” I smiled and drew her into a hug. She returned it. I heard Jackson go, “Awww,” and saw him and Jackson at the end of the hall. I flipped them off.
***
The day went on without incident. All my new teachers were awesome, which, I am saddened to say, meant no more fun with my powers. Ah well.
At the end of the day, I looked to meet up with my friends outside the school. They looked at me when I approached, and Briana smiled (god what a nice smile) when I was close enough to see. “Kyle! Get your ass over here!” she called. I made my way through the crowd, purposely “accidentally” bumping into people as I went. I muttered my apologies as I walked past, and finally joined them.
“So,” I asked. “How were all you ladies days?” “Quite good,” Leon answered. “Wait…” We laughed, and when we were done, Briana took me by the arm and led me away from everyone else. “Uh, Kyle? You wanna get outta here and grab a bite to eat?” “As long as I’m not the one you’re biting,” I laughed. “Sure.” She grinned and we started to walk towards Mac’s Burgers when Police Cars and Helicopters whizzed and raced by, the formers sirens blazing. I froze in my tracks. After a minute, Briana, realized I wasn’t walking with her, and she ran back to me.
“Kyle, what’s wrong?” she asked me, not unkindly. I wasn’t paying attention; I was listening on the Police e-band. Apparently, a family was being held hostage at Fortress National Bank. “Kyle…” she prodded, snapping me out of my trance. I looked at her, hoping I looked how I felt. “I’m sorry, Briana. I just remembered, I have to get home. I just remembered I have…a doctors appointment.” “Oh,” she said, looking slightly hurt. “Alright then. See you tomorrow.”
She turned around, and I watched her leave. “Yeah…” I whispered. When she was gone, I ran back to Jackson and Leon. “What’s up?” Leon wondered out loud. “Hero time,” I answered, handing him my backpack. Hold this for me, would you?” Without waiting for an answer, I shoved it into his hands and dashed off.
Looking for and finding an abandoned alley, I ran down it and ripped open my shirt, revealing a raised silver-on-black ‘S’ atop a black sleeveless shirt. An instant later, and my uniform was gone, replaced by a black denim jacket with an angular silver spider on the back, black, jeans, and combat boots. I pulled sunglasses out of my pocket and put them on, then pulled out a facemask that covered my lower mouth and put that on. Kyle Wyatt had vanished. In his place was I, Spartan.

 

[Swordmaster]

I swung to the bank as fast as I was able, which is pretty damn fast. Using my hearing, I honed in on the sirens and followed them to the bank. Listening to the e-band, it was apparent that the hostage holders wanted one hundred billion U.S. American Dollars in unmarked bills. Every hour that the money was not delivered, a hostage would die. The first hour was drawing to a close, but no one would die. Not on my watch. I hastened my swing.
Five minutes before the end of the hour, I finally made it to the bank (I got lost, so sue me). I swung through the window, to the shock and wonder of the citizens watching from outside. I broke the window and let go of my web, landing in front of the thieves, glass shattering around me. “Boo,” I said, while in a very kick-ass pose.
The thieves were your standard garden-variety sort. As in, not too fast, strong, or smart. How they masterminded something like this is beyond me. I quickly counted. Eleven of them. Perfect. That being said, I attacked. First one’s always easy. The shock of seeing a costumed teenager swing through a window on a web will do that to you. I dealt with that one with ease, elbowing him on the head and throwing him against a wall.
After that, it was open war. Bullets from machine guns and semi-automatics filled the air. My Battle Sense could have let me avoid them with ease, but the criminals needed to learn something today: There’s a hero in town.
I let the bullets bounce off me as I cut a swath through the thugs. I shot a webline at two thugs and pulled in opposite directions, causing them to hit each other and fall unconscious. Another tried to get from behind with a steel pipe that he found somewhere. I back flipped over him and kicked him in the spine with both of my feet, knocking him down. Uncoordinated bastard…
Now, you may be wondering: “If he’s such a wiseass in his head, why doesn’t he say some of his ingenious, witty lines?” Truth is, when I fight, I’m in it one hundred percent. I focus all my being into it. But that still doesn’t stop me from making the quips in my head.
Anyway, back to the battle. There were about eight of them left. Getting irritated at the bullets ricocheting off of me, I fired multiple webs to each of the remaining thugs guns and yanked. They looked incredulously from me, to their hands, to the pieces of metal on the floor, which soon became melted metal thanks to a nice healthy dose of heat vision.
After a minute of dumbfounded looks at one another, the thugs went after me hand-to-hand. One by one. Stupidheads. I leaped over the first attacker, launched a web onto him, and swung him at his companions. That distracted them long enough for me to pick them off, one by one.
It was too easy. In a minute, they were all down, unconscious on the floor. I stood for a moment, savoring my victory. They thought they could beat me? I thought. Me? Don’t they know who I am? I’m-
A gunshot interrupted my thoughts, followed by a searing pain in my left arm. I looked at it and saw blood-my blood-drip to the floor. Which made no sense. I was supposed to be INVINCIBLE, dammit! And my Battle Sense gave me no warning, which made this turn of events even more mysterious.
I turned around and saw a female thug behind me, the barrel of the gun smoking, her face smirking. She must have been in the bathroom when I was beating up her friends. When she shot me I was about ten feet away from her. Now I was right in front of her, smirking under my mask right back at her. Of course, she couldn’t see it, but that’s beside the point. IN speed-mode, I grabbed the gun out of her hand threw it in the air, and before it landed, knocked her out.
I wrapped my arm in a web bandage to stop the bleeding. Man that hurt like a *****. I rounded up all the unconscious bodies, whistling while I did so, and webbed them together. I moved onto the family, who I just noticed was tied up in the corner. I dashed over to them. “Are you all right?” I asked. They all nodded, wide-eyed. I ripped the ropes off them with ease. The family was standard: two parents, male and female, a son, and a daughter. I helped the kids up, and then the parents (kids come first). The girl hugged me, and the boy pointed at my wound. “You okay?” I nodded. “Merely a flesh wound,” I said. I rustled the kids’ hair and told the family to go. “Thank you,” the dad said, shaking my hand. I nodded again. “Take care of yourselves,” I said. They ran out.
I walked back to the thugs. Their leader was waking up, and struggling against the webs. “Don’t bother,” I said. “Those webs are about as strong as steel so you don’t have a chance in hell of breaking free.” The leader glared at me, and it was more fear than hatred or anger. I turned to walk away when the leader called after me. “Who are you?”
I turned back to him. “I’m Spartan. Tell your friends. They’ll meet me soon enough.” I jumped and fired a webline, swinging home with the cheers of the public fading in the distance.
Bullet wound aside, it was a good first day.

 

[wolfsfang]

Cool an actual battle. Very well written and quite gripping. I like the fact that his powers momentarily turned off, might make for an interesting plot device further down the road.

 

[Swordmaster]

Cool an actual battle. Very well written and quite gripping. I like the fact that his powers momentarily turned off, might make for an interesting plot device further down the road.

It kinda is. Take careful note of how the blood dripped off onto the floor. That's important later

 

[Snipershot]

dude, im lovin it

 

[Snipershot]

u gotta print this whole thing....

 

[Swordmaster]

u gotta print this whole thing....

I will, when it's done

 

[Swordmaster]

Ten

At home later that day, my head was hooked up to some insanely complicated machine in the lab. I was still dressed as Spartan, except my glasses and mask were off. Dad was staring at the computer screen, working on why my invincibility and Battle Sense shut off like they did. Leon and Jackson were watching the TV (that I moved down there), observing my exploits. They cheered and gasped in all the appropriate sections. I smirked and turned away, and looked in the mirror opposite me. This was the first time I could actually see myself in costume.
The costume itself pretty much mirrored Jackson’s original design, except it was black where it was once blue, and the silver replaced the red. The ‘S’ itself was different, as it was silver on black. The costume was made up of some nano-fiber technology that Dad recovered at work (that’s one weird medical clinic, I know). It was linked directly into my brain, allowing it to change from my school uniform into Spartan in a few seconds easy. Cliché, yes, but it beats having to wear a backpack everywhere with my real clothes in it. Of course, if Spartan’s needed and I’m not in uniform…well, I’ll work on that some other time.
“Whoa!” Leon yelled. I looked at the T.V. It was showing me beating the crap out of all the thugs in super-speed. You couldn’t even see me. One minute they were standing, the next…they weren’t. “Damn, I’m fast,” I said. I continued to watch the T.V., up until I got shot. I looked away and saw Dad staring at the screen, deep in thought.
“What’s up Dad?” I asked. “Kyle,” he began, “Can you describe to me what you were thinking before you were shot?” I thought for a minute. “Well, I was thinking how those puny humans thought they could defeat Hulk in the 2003 Ang Lee picture, then I was thinking about how those thieves thought they could defeat me. I am, after all, invincible. Or at least I was.”
“Huh,” he responded. He looked directly at me. “You know how some of your powers are connected to your emotions, like your heat vision and strength are connected to anger?” I nodded, wondering where he was going with this. “Well,” he said, going back to his screen. “It would appear that your invincibility and Battle Sense, and to a small degree your super-hearing and reflexes, are too tied to your emotions, except instead of being aided by them, they are hindered. Whenever you get too arrogant or cocky, your powers related to such feelings are “shut down” until you stop acting that way.”
Sighing and changing back into my uniform, I said, “That sucks.”

 

[Snipershot]

imformative

 

[Swordmaster]

*informative.


And yes, it is.