It's a Bird, It's a Plane, It's Black Superman!

Summer 2021, Week 2

Tuesday evening

Andre's Home, The Heights

DeAndre Walker

The Crysentine's, such a long last name that I don't think I'll ever pronounce correctly, had been at his place for two days so far. The situation was a bit cramped, but it came with benefits. Mrs. Crysentine was an amazing cook and coming home from work on Tuesday to a hot meal was a welcomed change. Everyone was also very nice, pitching in with chores or doing basic household things Andre didn't have time to do. The leaky sink faucet was fixed, the TV was remounted correctly, it was...nice. Having people around was nice.
The plan was to find them a nice place to stay. Andre was hoping his upcoming meeting with the mayor could help with that. If all he got from being a public face for the Fire Department as their token Evo was the Crysentine's having a nice safe place to stay, that'd be more than enough. More than I could ask for.
As he headed out, waving goodbye to the family, hopped into his SUV and promptly drove it into the alleyway by his house that served as a faux garage. Turning the car off, he stepped out and was confident it was hidden enough away to make it look like he had taken it out. Then, with less focus than was needed a week ago, he shot into the air. When he was 200 feet above his house, he stopped and took up a fighting stance.
After meeting with Sloane on Monday, he went to attend a Hand-to-Hand class at the Police Department. A lot of his buddies from the FD went there, finding it a good stress reliver and actually pretty useful. Apparently people tend to punch you in the face when you're trying to stop them from adding to a fire. Who would have thought. The Police used an art with a weird acronym name based on what the military used. That's to say they taught basic techniques based on actual martial arts but simplified for practical use.
The first day taught Andre how to jab, hook, uppercut, kick, and a few other basic strikes and combos. By the end of the day, they were just touching on blocking and simple counters. So high in the sky, he ran through each of the movements. Highschool Physics reminded him that his lack of a ground connection would take away a good part of his force. His strength made up for some of it--I totally did not practice on a derelict light pole earlier today. And that light pole totally did not bend in half.--but adding a quick forward movement while flying made it more powerful. So, each jab and kick were tossed with a sloppy flying movement. Damnit, it needs to be more streamlined. Hands kept in a close guard, the next two hours was spent throwing punches and kicks with slight movements in the air.

[x5 Normal, -15EP]

Letting his arms dropped and orientating his body so it seemed like he was laying down, DeAndre looked up at the cloudy sky and few stars peeking through. A lot of thinking took place upstairs over the past few days. The attack, Sloane, the news updating the situation on Bolt. More and more Andre found himself pulling an Isaac and wanting to get stronger. But why? That was always the hardest question for him to answer. Not just about why he wanted to get stronger, but for similar questions like why did he want to be a firefighter, why did he put himself in danger, why did he save people?
Staring up at the twinkling stars and feeling the ever-shifting breeze buffet him around, words spoke out in his mind. Someone has to. Why did his dad join the Marines? Because someone had to. Why was his Gram Gram an Army Nurse, especially during a time when the country did nothing for her? Because someone had to. It was more than that, though, and a memory flashed into his thoughts. He was six, sitting on Gram Gram's lap about a year before she passed. She was going through a photobook with him, showing pictures of her and husband, who Andre had never met, way back when. In some of the pictures there were clear signs of a different world. 'Coloreds Bathroom', 'Whites Only', and the curious Andre asked and was told about how things used to be.
'I barely got into the Nurse program, even though we were at war with everyone it seemed. But they made an exception for me on account of my gifts.' Andre asked if it got better when she was a nurse, saving people. A sad shake of her head told the answer. 'People don't change quickly, baby. Change is slow, especially when it’s been 'round a long time.' Then why did she do it? Why did she help people who hated her? 'Because I could. I got that special touch, you know that cher. Fixed your leg up right good, didn't I? Haha.' Her laugh was like honey. Full of love and kindness, always filling him with warmth whenever he heard it.
'You can have all the gifts in the world, but that ain't gonna change the way people see you for the better. Difference scares people, child. People who are special scare those who aren't. You gonna be strong, my baby. So strong you could lift mountains. But that won't change the way people look at you. Only you can do that. And only you can decide how you want to change them. One way is easy, but God above knows is wrong. That Ragnarok is taking the easy way, wanting fear in the eyes. The other way is hard, but right. You teach 'em love by giving 'em love. And you do that for no other reason than because you can. Because someone has to. That's why I was a Nurse for all dem boys who hated me. Because I could, and someone had to save 'em.'
Coming out of the memory he thought he had forgotten; Andre felt the warm wetness on his cheeks trailing back to his ears. Righting himself until he was upright, he took off higher into the sky, pushing the speed he could go at as he flew above the city. As he did, the words of his Gram Gram echoed in his ears. Because I Could. Because Someone had to.

---

Siwards, Downtown

DeAndre Walker

The city was alive with sounds even at--two in the morning. Shit I need to get to bed if I want to be awake to meet the mayor--Andre lowered his wrist and swung his feet over the edge of the randomly chosen skyscraper he was relaxing on. His flight around New Victoria was a casual one spent on trying new movements and controlling how to turn and stop easier. Thinking back to his firefighter training had helped actually. Kicking in a door or breaking a lock was brute force or a flashy kick. It took practice, finesse, and an understanding of the different types of objects you were dealing with. So, he put that same sort of effort into flying. Focusing on how to fly with more finesse rather than being flashing and zooming around.
For the last ten minutes he sat on the edge of the roof, looking down at the red and white lights of moving cars and hearing the ever-present hum of life. Andre wasn't a city kid by any means, which is why he lived in a suburb. Okay that and I can't afford downtown. Still there was a small smile as he thought about the thousands of people living their lives. Sure, there were some bad folks tossed in. But down there was a single mom working two jobs for her kids. There was a veteran who barely had enough to make a house payment that gave money to someone down on their luck. There was a college kid working at a bar so they could fund their research to cure a disease. People just living their lives, trying their best.
Suddenly, something tickled his ears. Not a physical sensation like the wind, but a...what was it? His legs stopped moving and he stood still, and… there it was again! What was it? Andre turned his head to look and swiped his hand, thinking he caught a spiderweb or something when he flew too low to the ground. There was nothing there. "What the--" '--elp me!' Sitting up straight as his jaw slammed shut, he listened. Sound, that's what it was, he was hearing something. Like it was far away. On the roof with him? It was a big roof, a glance around revealed nowhere for someone to hide, let alone scream. 'Someone help me!'
A push of his hands had him fall three feet before floating in the air. He started to look through the windows, thinking the sound was coming from the top floor or somewhere nearby. It didn't...what, feel like it was? How does it feel like sound is coming from somewhere else? The top floor was clear, so Andre started moving around, hoping he picked it up again--'Please, no, don't hurt me. I'll give--' His eyes snapped down. Below him was an alleyway that split two of the taller buildings. It was so far below him but he...shit, he could just make out what looked like two figures standing apart. And that's where the voice came from....

[x2 Basic, -0EP]

Wind buffeted his clothes and face as he free fell from hundreds of feet above down towards the mouth of the alley. A slight shift moved him from the mouth to the corner that would hide him. He slowed himself to pull off a soft landing and took a fraction of a second to celebrate it. No broken concrete this time! Whoop, take that physics. Closer to the ground, he could clearly make out two voices now. The woman was the first one he heard.
"--you want. I only have my wallet and there's no cash in it."
A man's voice spoke next. "Your ring, necklace, all of it lady, now."
"Okay, okay! I'll--just give me a second. Plea--please don't hurt me."
"Keep yappin' and I won't make any promises."
The sound of metal hitting the ground hit Andre's ears, something that should have been too far away to pick up. But then again adrenaline was pumping through his veins. This prick was robbing her! He had to call the police. Which is exactly what he would have done if his feet hadn't moved him from his place around the corner to stand in the mouth of the alley, and had his mouth not decided to shout, "What's going on here?"
Silence fell over the alley as both figures turned to look at him. One was a woman, dressed in office clothes. She looked about mid 30's and scared out of her mind. The man was older, maybe 40, and a good deal larger. Not Greg status but the guy was close. "Who are you?" They both asked. Well, the woman asked, the man shouted with a bit more colorful words tossed in.
"I asked you what's going on here." Andre said as he started walking towards the man slowly. He felt strangely calm in the moment, despite the silver gleam glinting off the knife in the man's hand. "Maybe you can hurry up with your answer before I'm forced to make an assumption and act accordingly." Fingers curling into a fist, Andre was almost at the man when the slightest scrap of concrete was heard, and pain blossomed in his side.

[x1 Basic, -0EP]

"What the--" a voice from Andre's left said as his hand went to his side and winced. Pulling it back he saw it dyed red with...oh great, I'm bleeding. That was the second worse realization as Andre also registered there was more than just Faux-Greg. A smaller man also holding a knife had appeared behind him. He must have been waiting in the shadows as some sort of backup. Now he was looking at his knife, clearly confused. What had happened, and Andre wouldn't realize this until much later--and when the pain and annoyance stopped--was the regular man had tried to stab him in his back. Literally. It was Andre's slight endurance needed to use his strength which had 'guided' the knife away from plunging straight in and 'deflected' it in a manner of speaking. Of course, that deflection still meant it cut him deep given his endurance wasn't nearly strong enough to stop the knife entirely. None of this registered to Andre as, looking at the man with a cold expression, he asked, "Did you just fucking stab me?"
Faux Greg took the opportunity to rush Andre, thinking he'd finish this rando off where his partner had failed. Faux-Greg was not as quiet as his smaller friend, and soon found his wrist wrapped in a 'very strong grip.' Golden eyes stared down at him. "Bad move, Greg."
"Greg?" Was the last word Not-Greg could get out before the ability to form words was lost in a wave of pain as his wrist bones were crushed. The knife clattered to the ground and Andre followed up with a gut shot that sent a whoosh of air out of the man who promptly collapsed to the ground. The other man, started to shake his shock off, came at Andre with the knife again, but soon found himself....in the air. About 15 feet in the air. "Brace your legs." The man holding him by his arm said before the let go. Knife Guy Numero Dos landed with a crack of an ankle and leg bone, but without the dangerous roll and head smack Andre took care to avoid by picking a height just high enough.

[Enh. x2 Minor, x1 Normal, -5EP]

[Ind. x1 Normal, -3EP]

Lowering himself to the ground, Andre's feet hit the concrete and his hand flew to his side with a wince. So that's what getting stabbed feels like. Good to know. Both men were passed out from the pain, but he looked at the woman who was quickly picking up her dropped rings and necklace. "Ma'am, could you call the police to come get these two?" She froze in place and looked at him, her hands and shoulder shaking as wide green eyes framed by dirty blonde hair that used to be in a neat bun stared at him. "Please--please don't hurt me, sir." She trembled out.
The words hit Andre hard. He wasn't going to hurt her. And how was she supposed to know that? All she saw was some guy break a man's wrist and drop another one after flying him in the air. Quickly coming to an understanding about this, he put on his firefighter voice and spoke calmly. "Ma'am, I'm not going to hurt you. My--" Giving out his name probably wasn't the best idea right now, but she needed reassurance, she needed to trust him--"My name is Andre. I'm a firefighter and you're safe now, okay? But I need you to help me. I need you to call the police to come get these guys, all right? So, they can take them in and make sure they don't hurt anyone else, understand?"
It took a solid 30 seconds for the woman to nod slowly. Another minute for her to take out the phone and call 911. She stayed on the phone with them, not taking her eyes off Andre, who made no effort to move--both because of the pain and because if either of those guys got up, he'd have to knock them out again--until he heard and saw the sirens. "The cops will take over from here, ma'am. Be careful at night, okay?" He said as he started to rise up into the air.
"...wa-wait!" She called out. Looking down at her, their eyes met and her fear, nervousness, all the emotions from the night still flooded her features. Taking a breath, she seemed to stand a bit more firm and said, "Thank you, Andre. Thank you so much." Slowly, a small smile slipped onto his face. "What's your name?"
"Cynthia."
"You're welcome, Cynthia."

[Ind. x1 Minor, -1EP]

[Minor Injury]

Type

Record, Historical

Medium

Digital Recording, Text

Authoring Date

June 29, 2021

Authors

• DeAndre "Andre" Walker