《Greg Veder vs The World》Lag 6.10
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Lag 6.10
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
May 13, 2011
9:57 PM
Axel Ramon remained still, eyes dry from a lack of blinking as a pair of bright blue eyes flicked upwards from the phone to lock on to him. Even over the sound of some villain actor projecting all the rage he could at whatever two-bit hero guest starring on Law & Order: PRT this week, Sparky could almost hear the overworked gears in the blond boy's head grind together as those same eyes lit up in realization.
Holding himself back from yelling was already a colossal effort, one that didn't get a single bit easier as a blank smile spread across Greg Veder's face.
"Huh," the other teen repeated himself.
Huh. Sparky repeated back in his own head. Huh, he says. This…
Greg tilted his head to the side, an odd look in his eyes as he remained smiling.
This fucking guy.
The living room sunk into an odd quiet, the blaring of the television oddly loud as neither of the two boys in the room said a word for the length of time it took some random snack food commercial to start and end.
"Huh," Sparky echoed back, voice as derisive and mocking as he could manage in that single syllable before his tone returned to strained annoyance. "That it, brah? That's all you can fuckin' say?"
Greg stepped forward, both of his hands raised again and Sparky shifted a little, almost taking a step back despite himself. "Okay, look, dude, before you say anything…" the blond began slowly, "I want you to know that I was planning to tell you, okay?"
Before Sparky could say anything to that, Greg thrust one hand forward. "Wait," he continued quickly, "Look, I know I should have told you about this. Before you yell at me, I know."
Sparky shook his head, spitting out a muttered curse in Spanish under his breath before he glanced back at his friend to say, "Do you? That something you really know?"
"Yeah, I do, okay," Greg continued, taking another step forward. "And I know that it wasn't the best idea, y'know. But…"
"But what?"
Greg shook his head. "... but it all just happened kinda quickly, I guess. I had the idea and I kinda just jumped into doing it. If there was any other way, I would have but… I guess by the time I thought about it… it was too late, you know?"
What? Sparky's lips tightened as his eyes remained firmly on a pair of bright blues. What the fuck is he even talking about?
"To be fair, it was kinda dumb of me not to expect a van that probably had to explode after getting thrown into a building but," Greg snorted out loud, the sound petering into a small laugh after a second or two, "Okay, but I did put out the fire before it spread…"
Greg cleared his throat, Sparky's eye twitching as the blond continued to speak. "Well, before it spread too far. So, anyway, no one was hurt and property damage was minor… except for the exploded building, but you know eggs, omelette, yadda yadda yadda."
Sparky looked the other boy in the room up and down as he remained silent, unable to actually find the words to convey the growing heat in his chest that felt like some type of rage. To make matters worse, the blood pounding in his head only served to make him intensely aware of the imminent headache creeping up on him. Is this a joke? Sparky thought to himself, a bare hand pressed up against the wall of the hallway to provide him some needed stability. Is every fucking thing a joke with him?
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It definitely sounded like a joke.
Honestly, it did.
Everything Greg said since all this started sounded like he was trying to be funny and usually, Sparky laughed along because it kinda was. Most of the time, it was nothing important, nothing too crazy and it was pointless to rock the boat too much. So, he let it slide, like a good friend should.
But this…
This.
This wasn't a fucking joke anymore. It hadn't been for a while now and it hadn't taken Sparky all that long to get how serious it was. It was time for Greg to understand it too.
"This isn't a fucking joke, Greg," he finally said out loud in a half-whisper. Voice strained and taut with tension, Sparky clenched his hands at his sides and finally took a step forward. "None of this is a fucking joke."
"Sparks…"
"You think this is just about throwing a van into a building?" Sparky assumed slowly.
"I mean…"
"Th-that is literally the last fucking thing I care about right now, brah."
"Okay," Greg scoffed in reply. "Last? Let's not exaggerate here, c'mon. Dude, I threw a frickin' van. Do you know how big that is? Literally, vans are kinda heavy."
"Shut up," Sparky hissed. "Shut up. Shut up. ShutUp-ShutUp-Shut-Up-Shut-Up-Shut Up!" With every single hiss of a syllable, the angry teenager took a single step forward, propelled by nothing more than outright annoyance and a growing feeling of exasperated rage.
Standing in front of Greg with barely a foot of distance separating the both of them, Sparky jabbed a finger in his face and let out another hissed sentence. "Why the fuck does the ABB think you're in charge of them?"
Greg rolled his eyes, waving one hand as he took a step back from his pissed-off friend. "Oh, that," he replied dismissively. "Huh, well, that's really not a big deal."
Is he ser… Sparky felt his eye twitch.
"I swear to every fucking god there is, you better not fucking act like this is not serious shit, you absolute tard."
"First, harsh. Second, chill," Greg deadpanned in reply, only for Sparky to let out an annoyed whistle of air. Palms up defensively, the blond continued with, "I didn't say it wasn't serious, dude. I just said 'really not a big deal', y'know?"
Axel took in a quick breath, eyes flicking around the room as he tried to prevent himself from actually raising his voice. "No," Sparky bit back, turning his eyes back to Greg. "No, I don't know. Just answer the fuckin' question, brah."
"Fine," Greg said, lowering his palms.
Sparky cleared his throat, the teenager closing his eyes and swallowing a mouthful of spit before he asked the important question once more. "So, you run the ABB now?"
"They're not the ABB anymore."
Amber eyes snapped open, directing a heated gaze at Greg once more as anger flared in his chest. "I don't fucking care what they call themselves. You're telling me that you're the one in charge of those shithead low-lifes?"
Sparky's eyes tracked Greg as the blond gave him a slight smile with perfect white teeth. A single hand rose to his chin before he finally spoke up again. "Dude, it's different. They're not criminals anymore."
WHAT?
"Are.. are you joking?" Hands tightening into actual fists, Sparky began to advance on Greg once more as he did his best to make his point as slowly and carefully as possible. "They are literal goddamn terrorists, brah."
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"That was before, Sparky," Greg replied back to him with a roll of his eyes. "I literally took care of all that, anyway. 'Sides, they're under new management now."
"YOU!" Sparky shouted out loud, unable to help himself.
Greg simply grinned back, a sight that made his friend feel like smashing his face in. "Exactly."
Sparky twitched despite himself and looked away to stare at the wall, blinking rapidly as he tried not to scream in outright frustration. After a few seconds, he turned back to throw a dark look at Greg's grinning face, the blond looking entirely too happy with himself.
"I get it, actually," Greg told him before he could say a single word. "Why you were so mad before? I see it now, you know, and yeah, I get it. It's a lot but… I'm doing some real good here, Sparky."
"Good?" he whispered back. "What good?"
"Well, for one, I'm stopping the old ABB — still don't really have a good name for them, by the way, and I was gonna workshop that with you later if you're down — from being evil and whatever," Greg began again, counting off his fingers. "For two, I'm saving Brockton Bay's Asian community from civil war by uniting them… under me, of course. Do you have any idea how close the city was to another gang war? Japanese vs Chinese vs Koreans, for starters," he explained slowly as Sparky continued to frown at him. "For three, not just keeping them from killing each other, I'm keeping the Empire from killing them."
After a moment, he laughed a bit, adding, "Also, kicking Nazis in the teeth but that's more a side-benefit than anything else, y'know?"
Arms spread out to his sides, Greg's grin widened. "Other heroes would just beat the bad guy and go home but they're not big thinkers like me, okay," Greg emphasized as he tapped his temple with a single finger. "I knew there'd be a power vacuum with Lung and Bakuda gone so I stepped in to keep things copacetic. I even had a plan before I took care of them to make sure the ABB weren't gonna just find a new cape and come back angrier," the blond added with yet another laugh that only served to irritate the other teenager more. "If anything, people should be thanking me. I did the city a favor by dealing with this before it turned into a huge mess."
Sparky took in everything Greg said with only another twitch of his left eye and a single sigh to show for it. I don't… I can't do this anymore. He thinks this is a fucking game because… of course it is to him. I honestly… I can't.
"... you're a gang lord," were the only words Sparky eventually found.
"Technically, yeah," Greg replied nonchalantly.
"No, not technically," Sparky retorted, still angry but oddly tired at the same time. "Literally. You lord over a gang, making you a gang lord."
"Well…"
"Like, I was gonna not say anything about this because you know it was over and done with and I knew you were dealing a lot cause of your mom," Sparky gestured upstairs to where the woman in question was fast asleep, "but you and I know both know you killed a fuckin' load of people last month."
Sparky didn't miss the way Greg's eyes drifted to the side, his expression looking oddly sheepish. "Yeah, sure, fuck whatever, they're ABB but you can't honestly tell me you that you think it's okay that you did what you did, right?"
"Sparks…"
"No, brah, you're a killer bossing around other killers and all of this… what? You're fifteen. This isn't your job. All of this is just a fun fuckin' time to you?" Sparky barked, a rant building up inside him along with his anger. "You think you can just stand there and tell me you're doing good when you killed a ton of people and you're proud of being a gang lord and you think you're gonna justify that shit by talking about some fuckin' responsibility?" Sparky scowled, baring his teeth with the last word as he spit it out.
"Justify it? Justify what?" Greg asked back, head tilted to the side as he seemingly ignored all his friend's vitriol to question a single word.
Sparky froze long enough to process Greg's response. "W-what? Justify the things you did? You killed like two dozen people at least."
"Why would I do that?" the blond almost seemed to laugh as he replied with a question.
What.
Sparky felt his eye twitch again, blood pounding in his head so hard he felt like something in it was due to explode any moment. "You killed people and you don't care?"
The pounding sensation in his head almost seemed to double as Greg gave him a look that seemed almost pitying in it's patience, something like the expression a teacher might give a slow student. "They were bad guys, terrorists, rapists too… I'm not saying I did anything great, y'know. I didn't even mean to do it like half the time…"
"That doesn't make it better," Sparky cut in.
"But," Greg barrelled on without even acknowledging the interruption, "why do I have to justify the fact that they died?"
"Because you're the reason!" Sparky shouted, throwing his hands in Greg's direction. "You. Killed. Them. You went crazy, like a fuckin' monster. Don't act like half the city didn't see you fighting Oni Lee! All the damage you've done, with Lung too? Maybe it's time to hang up the fucking cape already, brah!"
"You think I went overboard? Me?" Greg snorted, a sneer of an expression on his face. "What, you saw one fight where I was half-dead from getting caught in an Oni Lee hit-and-run, pretty much on an empty tank of gas and not all there and you just figured that was how I was the whole time?" Greg shook his head before glancing back at Sparky. "I get that you think that I lost it, okay. But I went out of my way to not hurt people."
"Bullshit," Sparky muttered.
"Sure, I was angry," Greg went on acting like he didn't hear it, but the distinct frown on his face told Sparky he did, "but that doesn't mean a thing. I controlled myself the best I could last month. Hell, I even talked to them. I was the goddamn Mr. Rogers of Superheroes, dude. I offered a bunch of the ABB chances to give up and work with me. Some of them did. Most of them didn't. Even then, most of most of those didn't even end up in the hospital. A bunch did, sure, but that's how it goes."
Sparky pulled a face, returning Greg's sneer. "That's how it goes?
"Yes. When they have guns and knives and numbers and they want to kill me and terrorize the whole city and act like terrorists, that is exactly how it goes." Greg shook his head in exasperation, throwing his hands up at Sparky's seeming unwillingness to let this go. "I let people run, Sparky. I talked to a bunch of them. I even paid some off. I was pissed, like extremely, but you know what?," Greg sat down on the couch's armrest, eyes firmly meeting Sparky's without any sign of turning away. "I had to do what I did because someone had to. In fact, I was positively level-headed through most of that week. The chill that I displayed, considering the situation, Legendary, okay. I'm surprised at how calm I was, no joke. I could have done a lot worse… but I didn't. And I feel like you're giving me shit for keeping my cool."
Sparky scoffed at him, brushing some hair out of his eyes as he folded his arms over his chest again. "I'm not giving you shit for 'keeping your cool'. I'm giving you shit for somehow not getting my point. I don't care that those fuckers died." He scoffed again. "You honestly think I give a shit about some gang members biting it?"
"Then wha-"
"You think I'd be bitching if some rando were the one who did this, brah?" Sparky let out a laugh that had no humor in it, a strand of hair falling back into his face as his shoulders shook. "Nah, I'd say good riddance and go about my fucking day, and be happy that there was less shit on the streets."
With the last word, his expression dipped back to a grimace. "No, Greg, you fucking tard," Sparky bit out angrily, "I'm mad that you're the one who did it. I'm pissed that you're fucking letting this shit take over you. You're turning… The things you're doing… You… Y-"
Sparky stumbled on every single word, each one a struggle as he tried to properly phrase what he wanted to say but lost track of the words every single time. After several seconds too many, the teenager let out a frustrated groan and decided to go with just two words.
"You're changing."
"I'm not changing," Greg laughed back.
"You're a gang lord now!" Sparky growled. "The fuck do you mean you're not changing?"
"I'm still me," his blond friend replied, not really explaining anything as he suddenly glanced up and stared into space with oddly vacant eyes. "I'm just… Hmm. I'm just doing more things."
The non-reply gave Sparky pause, the teenager taking a few moments to think as he stared at his friend glancing up for whatever reason. Probably a fucking quest. Another one. Those fucking things are controlling him. He shook his head, thoughts racing as he tried to figure out what to say next, anything that would make Greg actually listen. Wait…
A pair of amber eyes blinked as Greg continued to stare into space, blue eyes flicking from side to side showing that the other boy was clearly reading something. That's it!
"Greg…"
The blond glanced back down. "Eh?"
Sparky bit his lip, thoughts barely composed as he tried to put what he knew to work. "Brah, let me put this in a way you'll understand."
"...okay?"
Fuck. Sparky took in a quick breath before he opened his mouth. Here we go. "You're jumping from quest chain to quest chain, pissing off every faction as you go. First, it was the Merchants, then it was the PRT, then the ABB, and now it's the Empire. You're not thinking of the meta, brah, just playing like a noob."
"...what?"
What the fuck am I saying? Despite hating himself, Sparky continued speaking. "Even worse, posting crap like that and taking over the ABB is probably a big hit to your reputation bar? Your karma meter too… I guess." He winced at that last phrase, unsure if those were the same thing. "Like, what if you need a quest from the Protectorate to break the level cap, but you can't 'cause they're all aggroed?"
Greg simply stared.. "…"
The other teenager winced slightly, already regretting his words. "Y'know?"
Blue eyes blinked in confusion as Greg leaned forward slightly. "...Sparky, what the fuck are you talking about?"
Yeah, that went in one ear and out the other. "I… I… I guess I don't know how your game thing wor-fuck. You know what, I don't even fucking know anymore..." Sighing again, Sparky let himself trail off, his mouth moving silently for several awkward seconds before he spoke up again. "Just… brah, you could just stop… You know that, right?
"Stop what?"
"This." He waved a hand in Greg's direction. "Y'know. This."
The blond raised an eyebrow. "You just gestured to all of me."
"Yeah," Sparky replied tiredly. "I did."
The other eyebrow joined the first. "I don't know wh-"
"Don't gimme that shit, brah," Sparky cut in again with another hiss. "Yes, you fucking do! Don't you dare gimme that shit, Veder! You could stop right the fuck now and never look back. No more violence, no more crazy damage, no more killing, no more…" His voice trailed away as he took in several much-needed gulps of air.
"What?" Sparky raised his head, blinking in surprise as Greg had somehow stood up and closed the distance between them in seemingly no time, the blond's hand now on his shoulder. "No more what, Sparks?"
He took one more deep breath before staring back at Greg again with a firm look. "No more superhero shit. You could just stop and that'd be it."
Greg glanced away, clearly thinking about it.
That was almost enough to give Sparky hope.
Almost.
"… I could. Yeah," the blond finally answered, giving his friend an oddly resigned expression.
"But you won't," Sparky finished for him.
Greg let out a shallow laugh. "I would never give it up."
"But why?" Sparky almost found himself begging with those two words, voice wavering. "You got powers, sure. You could enjoy the fuck out of those without ever getting involved in this BS anymore. Lung is done. The ABB is fucking dead. You removed a girl's legs, Greg!"
"C'mon, she wasn't just a girl, Sp-"
Sparky shook his hands violently, pulling away from Greg's grip on his shoulder with a great deal of effort as he glared back at the idiot. "Yeah, She was a lot of things, I know, but you don't have to do any of that shit anymore. The city is fine. You got your mom back. Why won't you stop?"
"…The city needs me."
The long-haired boy froze for a second, confusion warping his expression before it quickly melted back into a frown. "No, it fucking doesn't, Batman. Give me the real fucking reason."
"..." Greg turned his head aside as he muttered.
"...what?"
"Christ." With a long sigh, Greg turned back, the blond looking almost as tired as Sparky did as he began to speak again. "I said, it makes me feel good. It feels like winning, okay?"
"What does…" Sparky found himself asking, despite a part of him not really wanting to know the answer. "Which part?"
"All of it, I guess."
Fuck.
"It's just…" Greg continued on, "I was never gonna be anyone, Sparks. No one cared about me. No one looked at me. At school, I'm just 'that annoying kid who doesn't shut up.' People online only know me as 'that annoying troll who won't shut up.' The girl I crushed on barely even said five sentences to me and I said like five thousand to her these past couple years. Half the time, I think my mom only likes me because I'm all she has left of my dad.
"I have two friends, this one girl online that's probably a fat dude my mom's age in Canada and you," the blond let out a bitter laugh, palms by his head as words rushed out of his mouth in a torrent, "and let's face it, you… You were cooler than me. Your dad didn't move a thousand miles to get away from you. You're in a band. You could hang out with anyone in school and they'd be okay with it. Like, the only reason you were friends with me is because I made you laugh one time last year during lunch. You have other people you hang out with and you're all chill and happy and people like you, y'know?"
Greg laughed again, the sound a bitter one. "But me? My 'friends'? Just you. You're it. You're all I had. Somehow, I was too much of a weirdo for anyone to even wanna be around and that doesn't even make sense. All I did was smile and try to talk to people. Things sucked, okay Sparky? Yeah, my home life was easier than most Winslow kids, sure, I had more money and stuff, but I didn't have anything other than games and my mom and you. But now?
"Now I have… everything," Greg seemed to hum the word, canines oddly large as he flashed Sparky a grin. "It's more than I ever had before and y'know what? I'm doing real good here. So, cut me some frickin' slack just cause I don't wanna go back to being a normal nebbish noob."
Greg stood front-and-center in the middle of his living room, staring down Sparky as he continued speaking. "Look, I'm not gonna let it go… not gonna give up just cause it makes you feel icky, okay. And yeah, I'm changing. It's called growing up."
"No, it's n-" Sparky attempted to interject.
"Yes. It is." Greg didn't let him. "I'm a fucking superhero and I don't care what I have to do. I save lives, I help people, I fix things. I'm the good guy here."
Wow. Wow. Axel Ramon could only blink.
Fucking wow. Sparky found himself at a loss for words for a moment as he took everything in, every single bit of Greg's rushed confession hitting him with almost physical force. I tried to help you out. I stuck up for you. I did everything I could for you and now you wanna dive off the deep end like this? After far too long, he stared Greg in the eye and said the only thing he could. "You know you sound exactly like a fuckin' supervillain, right?"
Axel glanced back at his unfamiliar friend, Greg standing there with his eyes closed and mouth in a thin line, the blond almost frozen in place.
"What? No comeback for that one?"
After what seemed like a minute but was most likely a few very long seconds, Greg opened his eyes again and flashed Sparky a bright grin that rang as unnatural in the boy's eyes. For what reason though, he was unsure.
"Nah, no comeback. Just waiting for you to stop acting like my Mom."
"...Motherf-" Sparky bit back a curse, the word dying down to a strangled choking noise. Unable to help himself, Sparky clenched his fists and shot back, "Yeah, I'm your mom right now. For real, brah, I'm your mom because I'm telling you that posting a video of yourself blowing up a building with a van missile is fucking dumb. I'm your mom because I'm letting you know that taking over a fucking gang isn't just a slippery slope, it's a fucking avalanche. I'm your Mom because I cover for your ass and try to keep you from fucking up royally."
"Just saying, a friend would support me," Greg replied in a tone that Sparky could almost call petulant, if it weren't for the oddly serious look on the other teen's face. "Sorry, not sorry."
Fuck it. Sparky scoffed, the teenager throwing his hands up in the air as he walked toward and then past Greg, walking directly towards the door. "You know," he began again, not even turning around to face the only other person in the room. "I know you, brah. Like, real fuckin' well, I think. I'm just giving you a heads up 'cause you got no idea what you're doing and you…" Sparky scoffed again, the sound almost becoming a laugh. "You're just gonna royally fuck up everything. Not just for you, not just for me, but for everyone around you."
"Yeah, I bet you think that," Greg spun around to stare at him as he walked away, Sparky fighting a wince as his eyes seemed to flash in anger. "You're just Sparky Smarty-Pants. Fun fact, genius, you wouldn't know anything about me if I didn't let you know and y'know what?" The blond tapped his chin, a fake smile on his face as he added on, "I think I kinda regret doing that."
Somehow, that was the straw that broke the camel's back, the camel being Sparky and the back being his patience.
He moved without meaning too, already in motion as blind rage and uninhibited frustration propelled him forward. An arm swung out, balled fist on a beeline directly towards the blond's grinning face before he could stop himself. In a blur of motion, Sparky found himself blinking as his fist was seemingly brushed aside before it could land and he found himself pulled forward before he could stop himself. What the f-
He blinked again as he realized a pair of surprisingly sturdy arms were wrapped around his back, his arms flat by his sides. "We can let this go," a voice muttered in his ear, almost begging by the sound of it. "I'll say sorry. We forget about this and just pig out on orange chicken and watch some anime with random elf boobs or whatever. What do you say, man? C'mon," the blond punctuated the word with a squeeze. "Please."
It said something to Sparky that part of him wanted to give in, to just listen to the siren song that was his friend's pleading request. That same part was also doing it's best to pound into him how stupid what he had just tried was, something that likely would have ended in a broken hand simply resulted in an embrace that was at worst emasculating. Unfortunately, he was too angry to be in a forgiving mood.
"Fuck You," he hissed back into Greg's ear.
An angry grunt accompanied the last syllable as the angry teenager did his best to shove his friend away. It didn't really amount to much, Sparky realized almost immediately, the force of his push likely the equivalent to a light breeze to the other boy. His guess was confirmed almost immediately as the superpowered blond slowly and carefully let his arms relax, following the action by purposefully stepping back and away from his friend. It didn't help Sparky's mood that Greg seemed to wear a look of what seemed like disappointment on his face the entire time as he stared back at the furious teenager.
Sparky's eyes narrowed as Greg Veder continued to stare at him, the teen holding back several curses as he stumbled away and angrily grabbed his backpack from the wall where it sat. A hand thrust itself into his backpack, quickly retrieving a white long-sleeve and a black-and-yellow hoodie. Without wasting time, he put both of them on before shooting Greg another dark glare on his way to the front door. "Trust me, you're gonna feel really stupid about this one day, Veder."
"You know what I feel?" Greg bit back, disappointed expression fading away as it was replaced by an oddly smug smile. "I feel motivated, Axel."
"...I'm gonna regret asking but…" the teen stopped by the door, grabbing up his skateboard and helmet as he stepped into his low-top sneakers, "what the hell could possibly be your motivation at this point, you blond fucking asshole?" Please. Make it worse somehow, I dare you.
"Heh." Greg flashed him another too-sharp grin. "I'll tell you later when you're in a better mood."
"Whatever," Sparky swung open the door and marched out of the Veder house, skateboard and helmet under one arm. He was tired of this, far too tired to deal with whatever Greg was sperging about and not interested in helping someone who had no intention of accepting his help. "I'm going home."
With a single hand on the fence as he attempted to close the wooden gate back, the irritated teenager glanced back to see Greg as he stood there watching him from the open doorway. A sigh left him as Sparky closed
"Hey, Sparky!"
Cruiser skateboard under his foot and helmet already secured firmly on his head, Sparky rolled his eyes and answered back with a terse and unfriendly "What?"
"Don't leave, dude. It's Friday the 13th. Mad spooky hours," Greg added with a laugh that only sounded patronizing to Sparky's ears, if not outright mocking. "If you wanna go that bad, gimme a minute and I'll walk you home."
Sparky frowned back at the other boy, wondering what he ever saw in him. In lieu of words, he answered back with a single finger. A half-second later, Sparky kicked off the ground, speeding down the suburban streets with both feet on his board.
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"Alright, see ya Monday!"
Greg waved goodbye at Sparky's figure as he sped away on his skateboard, a mix of conflicting emotions in his head despite the fake smile plastered firmly on his face. He stood there in silence, staring long after Sparky had vanished into the distance even with his [Darkvision] preventing shadows or low light from hiding anything from him. Finally, after what must have been well over five minutes of pointless staring, the blond at the door let out a long sigh. This wasn't at all how he expected this night to go, not in the slightest.
Hours of chill fun ruined in fifteen minutes. He shook his head as he remained standing at the doorway, pushing the worst thoughts to the back of his mind. He wants answers and he freaks out on me and calls me names when I give them to him. Just like Mom…
I give people what they want. I try, at least, you know. I'm not saying I know everything but what's so wrong with doing things to keep you safe? I'm somehow the bad guy for that, he ranted to himself, fingers clenched tightly into his palms as he stared off at nothing. Mouth in an open grimace, his teeth seemed to sharpen somewhat, visibly lengthening as he continued to rage to himself. Think, Sparky! When are the ABB gonna attack anyone or hurt anyone or do anything bad to people when I'm there? I literally stopped half the crime in the city. ME!
Greg Veder closed his eyes and let out a long sigh into the night, breath coming out in a literal cloud of steam. By the time he opened his eyes, the plume had vanished and his tensions seemed to have eased, Greg allowing the subtle flow of [Gamer's Mind] to work it's magic on him. Within moments, the blond's sharp grimace was once more a relaxed grin as his mood returned to a calm, almost surprisingly happy equilibrium. All thoughts of blowing up a neighbor's car with an errant fireball now back in the part of his mind that considered it a funny idea rather than an immediate consideration for stress release.
With a dramatic shake of his head, the blond threw his hands up in the air. "This is why I keep secrets y'know," he muttered to no one in particular. "People just don't know how to handle them."
Blue eyes flicked up again. "But back to important things…"
Your territory is under attack: Okinawa Heights
Your territory is under attack: Little China
Your territory is under attack: Osaka Plaza
Quest Gained!
Klash of Klans IX: Road Rage
White vans belonging to the Empire are racing through your territory, firing on any ABB that tries to chase after them.
Stop the vans.
Objectives
- Stop the white Empire vans. [ ]
Rewards: 50000 XP, $50000, + 2 Stat Point
It had been hanging there for a while, just before Sparky had decided to storm out. Greg had done his best to ignore it, hard as that was, as he focused on his friend and whatever argument they had been having. Not much of an argument. He's just not listening to me, Greg shot back in his own head. What am I doing? We'll talk tomorrow and work it out or whate-
His thoughts were interrupted as Greg glanced down at the pocket of his jeans, specifically the vibrating object inside his pocket. Really beginning to wonder what I pay these guys for, honestly. Pulling the smaller, less-expensive phone from his pants, Greg glanced back into the house with narrowed eyes before he closed the door behind him, flipped open the burner and raised it to his face.
"What's the issue, Seo?" he answered, getting right to the point.
"Boss, we got a situation! We go-"
"Empire shooting again?" he interjected. "I'm already on it." Greg was halfway through closing the device when Seo's voice nearly screamed out from the phone's tinny speakers, faint gunfire just audible from a distance even as he shouted.
"Nonono! Boss, you don't understand! They're not just shooting! They're breaking in and snatching up kids, not even the gang. Just a lot of the Winslow kids!"
Pip. Pip.
Your territory is under attack: Taipei Town
Quest Changed!
Save The Children
Empire members using white vans are kidnapping teenagers in your territory, for some reason.
Specifically, teens that go to your high school.
You know what to do.
Objectives
- Find the white Empire vans. [ ]
- Rescue the teenagers. [ ]
Rewards: 10000 XP, $10000, + 4 Stat Point
A pair of blue eyes widened. "Fuck."
Greg jumped upwards, easily clearing two stories with a tight backflip and landed firmly on the roof of his house with only a slight thump for all his weight. "I'm on my way," he spoke into the burner before quickly closing the device and returning it to his pocket.
"[Transform: Hardkour]."
As he stood up to his full height, a flash of blue light and wind obscured Greg's body, fading a moment later to reveal him fully costumed in black leather gear, a long scarlet scarf and a ruby red full-face helm exposing only his hair. "Yeah, I'm pretty fucking motivated."
With a flex of his legs, Hardkour burst off into the night sky.
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
Six Miles From Greg Veder's House
10:37 PM
My head hurts.
That was the first thought that flitted through Sparky's head as he blinked his way back into painful consciousness. His vision was bleary, not at all helped by the darkness that seemingly surrounded him. His body seemed to shake and shudder, bouncing painfully on the hard surface that he found himself laying on, his throbbing face pressed up against cold metal. What… He blinked again, the action seeming to hurt as he began to recognize the feeling of a bruise forming on the side of his face. What happened?
He blinked again, trying to ignore the pain. I… Greg. I had a fight… me and him, right? Noise pounded into his skull as he bounced harshly once more, making it even harder for him to get his bearings as he tried to focus his brain enough to form a sentence. He was acting… acting crazy and I… left?
Something…
Yeah, that's it? He blinked again, more events coming back to him.
I left. I was on my skateboard and then…Sparky let out an audible groan, suddenly realizing something was stuck in his mouth preventing him from speaking.
Pain.
Both in his memories and the present.
Then, something hit him hard.
Harder than he had ever been hit before, sending him off his skateboard and into blackness.
Now, someone had pressed a foot against his face, painfully grinding the sole of a boot against his already bruised cheek.
"Wake the fuck up! This ain't naptime!"
Sparky bolted up, trying to move — why can't I — as the sound of someone yelling jolted him back into full consciousness.
The voice made his gaze snap upwards, everything in the sound of it sending warning sirens through his already protesting skull. The teenager regretted it almost immediately, his eyes locking for a split-second with those of a grown man with a series of scars on his bald head grinning down at him with promises of pain.
What the fuck? Sparky made to turn his face away, only to let out another vocal protest of pain as his head was yanked upwards by his hair, the teenager forced to his knees as his scalp screamed in pain.
"So, you the special guest, huh?" A gruff voice barked out, Sparky meeting the beady eyes of a flat-faced biker-looking man with breath like a sewage pipe. "Now, what makes you so fuckin' special?"
Sparky tried to fight, instinct begging him to escape, only for him to realize…
My hands…
They were tied.
Literally.
His legs, not so much.
While that was a relief, albeit not much of one, it took Sparky only a few seconds to come to the realization that he wasn't alone with the man.
And yet that did nothing to calm him down.
Not too far from him were at least six other teenagers, bound like him, but also gagged and entirely conscious, their eyes screaming fear. Panicked eyes flicked over to the noise by his side, the noise of a van door opening as two other grown men hopped into the vehicle, their shaved heads and tattoos cluing him on who he was stuck with. The final man to enter the van was what could only be described as an older version of a bully that Sparky had grown familiar with, having been around Greg for a long while.
The man hopped into the van with a grunt, brushing some imaginary dust off his leather jacket with similarly gloved hands, and closed the door behind him. As he found his footing, he quickly demanded the van driver to get moving with a sharp whistle and a shout of those same words. Almost immediately after, a pair of red-rimmed pinpoint eyes scanned the van before they finally locked on to him, ignoring everyone else almost completely.
"There's our special little boy," the man said with a smile that promised nothing good.
Special? What?
Even in the dark of the van, the man laughed like he could see the confusion in his eyes, the other men in the van chuckling along slowly in a way that rang with the fact that they didn't actually know what was funny. "Yeah, you're really special, a nice little present for a good little boy. You know, I had to change a lot of my plans just to snatch you up," the man said as he squatted down, somehow not falling over as the van continued to move, "but don't you worry. I'm sure you're worth it."
A pair of heavy gloved hands gripped his chin and Sparky found himself being hauled up painfully, meeting eyes with the older Malcolm Duncan look-alike. "You don't know me, kid, but I'm gonna tell you a little secret. This is not gonna be the best night of your life, I can promise you that."
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