I sat at my desk in the school newspapers office, somehow the eight of us who worked there managed to cram into a ten by ten room along with two desks. In Titan City High, we were the bottom of the social ladder, not even human to some. I wasn’t popular anywhere if i was honest, the British kid in an American colony, an island in the middle of the Atlantic, supporting a city and two towns, as well as a number of industrial complexes. It wasn’t much of holiday spot, but, once Titan City was up and going, it became the place to be if you were a Cape, Cowl or Crook. We sat around the desks, pushed together to make one big table as our editor, Cheryl, glared at us.
“Tom Baker, our schools most famous student for his football skills, has been caught out as a low-level Clockstopper, and we have no leads at all?!” She was like me, a huge fan of the Vigilance forums, where they used all kinds of slang. Clockstoppers were supers of all kinds whose powers were a slap to the face for time in some way, usually slowing it down, speeding it up or even freezing it.
Tom had slowed time down for everyone but him on the field, catching a long pass and then making a thirty yard dash for a spectacular touch down. Of course, the Superhuman Affairs Bureau got involved, taking him away for testing. He was back now, and telling nothing about where he’d been, though he was certainly a lot more smug than before, and i would say more arrogant but i doubted it was possible.
Cheryl was tall, slim and had dark hair, though her glasses and braces marred what would have been, in another world, the face of the cheerleading squad… or fascism, who knows. She looked around at us, finally settling her eyes on the weak link in the chain: Bob.
Bob was the slovenly wise ass that most clubs had banned because of his appalling manners, nauseating odour and his foul habits, the worst of which was his nose picking, though his attempts to flirt with anything female and attractive were made worse by his level of creepiness, which set a whole new grade of ewww. Today he wore a Batman t-shirt, stretched across rolls of flab. He smirked, winking at her and triggering her Look Of Doom, that glare that made even the laziest bum sit up straight and sweat.
“As of today, three events are happening in our dear city.” she pulled a projector from under the table, connected to her laptop. On the projector, a white label read “Property of AV Club” she smirked a little, patting the pocket where she kept her picks.
“Thank you big bro…”. I couldn’t help but smile at that, pausing for a thought in his memory.
Wayne, Cheryl’s older brother, had been an enforcer for the Radical, an eco-terrorist with a taste for violence. Wayne had spent a good three years until he was the Radicals main man, his lieutenant. He had then turned himself in to the Vigilance and given them everything on the Radical, and smiled all the way. Of course, despite his work to bring the Radical down, he’d been sentenced to five years in the Hollows, in the minimum security wing.
He hadn’t lasted a day.
The projector came on and she pointed to the first picture, of the, now abandoned, Forge, deep in the heart of the city.
“This, is the Forgemaster Tech Expo, where the cities first superhero, Forgemaster, will be holding a convention of inventors and scientists, who are going to be showing off everything they have, from advanced weaponry and gene treatments to the new Nanotech Soldier machine. I need someone there, someone to check the tech out and take pictures. This is an important one, the principal wants us to look like we support scientific advancement, and try to take some of the wind out of the arguments that this school is just a breeding ground for labourers”.
We all grumbled at that.
Titan City High wasn’t well-known for its academic record, the majority of any graduate bumming it in shitty, dead-end jobs or getting involved in organised or gang crimes.
Our career day usually involved a trip to Sunstone Penitentiary.
The next slide clicked into place and there was a woman in what could be called typical gypsy clothing, her long hair tied back in a long braid down her back, her painted face and bright clothing made her look exotic.
“Madam Tarot, a psychic who has made a few very scarily accurate predictions recently has offered the school a chance to join five other reporters, she says she’s going to present proof of an afterlife, of sorts. She’s made it clear that, though this IS a séance, she will not be conjuring ghosts or talking crap. She had also stated that she will not allow any ‘negativity’ into her parlour, so anyone sceptics, stay away. I want someone on that, if this turns out to be the real deal and we fucked our chance, i’ll tear each and every one of you a new asshole, got it?” We all nodded our agreement, too terrified to try and talk back. Her brother hadn’t just taught her to pick locks, he’d taught her to fight.
The last slide was of the new nuclear power centre.
“Heres the last one. The centre is being opened today and the leader of the Vigilance is going to be there to open it up and, again, we managed to wrangle ourselves a press pass to get interviews and pictures. I need as much as you can get and i don’t want anyone complaining. Got it?” There were a few excited murmurs as she did so, before she pulled out a handful of tokens, each with a number on it. I can’t deny, i was more than a little excited myself, anticipating an assignment that wasn’t just a glorified “Heil Baker” article, or talking about the cheerleaders and their incredibly perky boobs.
Of course any article that would’ve been a real pleasure to write, like the scandal of the principal extramarital affairs, or that the cafeteria lady was skimming money from the food budget, were slapped down hard.
“Everyone pick a token each, the ones who get one, two and three get to choose from these assignments, everyone else gets less interesting stuff. Five minutes to consider.” she put the projector under the table, shuffling the tokens in her hand as my phone buzzed in my pocket, the beginnings of Alpha Packs ‘I Howl Like A Vandal’ cut off as i answered the call.
“Hello Mum”
“Hi Jason, good thing i caught you. Are we still on for your uncles birthday tonight? Or will you be off on another of your school paper bits?” Shit, uncle Jack’s birthday, probably with bimbo/bitch girlfriend number who knows how many.
Unless he got married again without telling anyone, which wouldn’t end well for him, especially if grandma got involved.
“Can i get back to you on that?” I heard her sigh and then chuckle
“No problem. See you later” I smiled and hung up, then saw all but two tokens had already been drawn. I grumbled and then went to Cheryl, and plucked one up. She smiled at me and winked as i turned it off to look at the number 1. Everyone groaned, one or two people swore. Cheryl grinned at me and waved her hand at the assignments on the table.
“Go ahead Jason, choose”
Thank you to everyone who votes, i hope i get as many readers on this as i do the Academy and, as ever, any and all comments are appreciated.
Nice poll.