Chương 117: Charlotte

Another week passed. We were fully treading the waters of August now. My birthday was in the coming weeks. The date kept showing up on my calendar, looking me in the face. August 19th. It was coming sooner and sooner. Felt odd to think about. How I was dreading aging. Another year I spent as someone who wasn't really me, since the old "me" burnt himself out. He might still be there, in the back of my head. We dug up a piece of him by figuring out how my powers work, but that's only a piece of the bigger image.

And it didn't feel like I was learning who I was. Felt like I was steadily unmaking what I am. The idea, of what I am, at least. Needed to just take the downtime I could, where I could. In that case, it meant patrolling. The tone of the city had become distinctly different since I first came here. While there were still people milling about, there always seemed to be some sort of mild tension from them. They'd pass glances at trees that had been there for years. People avoided wearing green.

At one point I passed a flower shop that put a sign up explaining that flowers and trees are very different things. They must have gotten some complaints over recent events. The first stop in my patrol was a man standing in front of a small brick building's door, every few seconds making panicked tugs at it before groaning in a sort of frustrated sob. He dragged his hand across his face. In my approach, I asked "Something the matter?" from far enough away to not startle him by being nearby.

He turned to face me, red in the face.

"Locked myself out of my own damn store, I'd climb up into a window or something, but I got a bad back."

"I see. Do you have any proof this is your store? I'm not doubting you, I'm just required to confirm." He began the body-slapping dance one does when trying to search every pocket in your body all at once, before procuring his wallet and slipping his ID out of it. He held the card out to me. The address matched the location, though that did prompt a question.

"…Why does your ID lead to a store?"

"It's got residential zoning, so I turned a backroom into my apartment. If my wife and I get into a fight I can just come here to sleep for the night and get out of her hair." I handed him back his ID, crossing my arms and looking up at the building.

"Any reason you didn't have a spare key?"

"That's the thing, I did. That's how I got in. I lost my old key in a sewer grate a while ago…" Wonder when he did that. Shivvy might've eaten it when he was stray.

"…and I had this near-miss just yesterday because of only having one key. So I decided I was going to go get a spare cut today and stop stressing over it so damn much. Except I walked right out without it!" I nodded, looking at the door.

"I can force it open, but that's going to damage the latch at least."

"Building's insured."

"It means you might need to get new keys."

"Well, I'm about to go to a locksmith anyway." All I could offer at that point was a shrug.

"So long as you're fine with it." I planted a palm against the door, right near the handle, and with a firm shove the latch popped and the door swung open from the remaining force of the push. Apparently that was all because of gravity, somehow. Still wasn't sure how that worked. Tudor told me not to think too hard about it for now, but it still clung to me like smoke to flame. There were mechanisms to how I did things and I just didn't understand them. I couldn't understand them, yet.

I didn't know how long "Yet" would be for. A cheerful noise came from the building's owner as he began sauntering in.

"Thank you so much! Come on in, I owe ya'!"

"You don't need to-""Just humor me, hoss." I sighed before following the man in. Shelves and shelves of comic books. Shirts and mugs and bags and blankets, all with iconography of numerous superheroes. A couple supervillains, too, which surprised me more.

"Now you get it?" He asked with a laugh.

"So you run a superhero merchandise store. How come I've never heard of you?"

"Because I mostly sell to collectors. It's why I don't sell any New Sentinels merch. You guys aren't exactly a high value merch product yet given how much of your stuff is lining every shelf in Charlottesville. No hard feelings."

"None taken," I mentioned, glancing over at the comics. I slipped one out, observing the cover. It was an illustration of The Saint, facing down a group of different supervillains I didn't recognize.

"Hey, who are all these guys? Just made up for the comics?" Leaning over, he peeked at the comic.

"Oh, no. Most supers sell their stories for comics, as you probably know." I did. We were starting to get calls from publishers, but Perry kept turning them down. He thought there wasn't enough material yet and wanted to wait on selling bulk licenses when we had more under our belts. So I nodded to his insight.

"Yep. So that there's the Syndicate of Syn, formerly Syndicate of Sin. They were one of the last big supervillain leagues. Shut down in the 90s after their leader died."

"Who was their leader?"

"Weirdo called Vicaro Malevolus. He said he was a wizard, a demon, a vampire, whatever was trendy enough to sound theatrical at the time. Been one of the biggest pains in The Saint's ass for like twenty years or so." I nodded.

"What happened to him?"

"Well, Panzerfaust was heading to their fortress one morning and found his severed head right at the door as a welcome mat to anyone approaching. Was the flavor of the month news story in the mid 90s. How old are you?"

"Eighteen." Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

"Yeah, you probably were only just born at the time, you wouldn't even know. Also, Jesus, you're eighteen?" He remarked looking up at me.

"The Hell are they feedin' you?"

"A lot," I answered.

"So who killed him?" The store owner shrugged.

"No one knows. Allegations went towards another one of The Saint's rivals, Abel Fontaine and his assistant Lyudmila. They show up on the news sometimes since Abel has a public persona as a business magnate. But he's had some pretty public clashes with The Saint." Fontaine. That sounded familiar. Was it… yeah, Adam mentioned them during the interview.

"Like the Fontaines who The Saint fought?" He nodded.

"You got it. Abel's the last living Fontaine. Probably not for much longer given he's in his eighties."

"So why do people think he did it?"

"Well, Vicaro was beheaded. And Lyudmila, his assistant, is a nearly seven foot tall woman who lugs a sword around." My face scrunched behind my mask.

"Well, I guess that makes sense."

"Yeah. No real villain leagues since. Though, I guess you guys are changing that now with that ADU you're fighting." Huh. I had never really considered that the ADU really were full of supervillains. Brother Gleditsia obviously was one, as was Master Sequoia, but all the Fathers and Mothers fit that description too. I kept tangling my thoughts up in the fact they were terrorists and that I was fighting on behalf of the government. I kept missing the fact I am a superhero fighting supervillains.

Wasn't that why I even started? To fight bad guys as a hero? Wasn't much of one at the start, but that's what I was, wasn't I? My powers being different couldn't really change that, right?

"Hey!" The store owner called out.

"Huh- Sorry. What was that?"

"I said, did you want that comic?" I shook my head.

"No, no, if I want it I'll come buy it later."

"Well, I owe you something, so pick something!" Looking up at all the merchandise on the wall, I could see logos and pictures and names. Some I recognized, some I didn't. Was I going to end up in collector stores like this? With the modern day equivalent of banners and idols venerating who I am and what I've done? Who would I even be at that point? I just shook my head, glancing back at him.

"How about this. Pass my good deed along to the next person. Next guy who comes in, they get something for free, on me."

"Well-" He started, seeming frustrated, but shook his head.

"Alright, I can do that. But don't tell any of your friends to come in and ask for something expensive to sell on eBay or something!" I let out a bit of a chuckle and shook my head.

"You won't have to worry about that." Slipping the comic back onto its shelf, I slipped a hand into my belt and felt around. There was a compartment behind the large buckle on it specifically for a few items. When I felt the firm cardboard, I knew I was touching the right item. I pulled out a business card and held it out to him.

"For the insurance. These guys cover superhero damage. Use them instead, that way you won't have to worry about police reports or whatever for your own insurance. Make sure to give the referral number on the back of the card too." Picking up the card, he flipped it around a few times before nodding and slipping it into his pocket.

"Well, crap, thanks hoss." With that, I left and made my way back onto a patrol route, bounding from roof to roof. That was the most eventful of my encounters for a little while. There were some more, but they were much more plain. There was a man who needed to get his couch into his house but his dolly broke. A child got her balloon stuck in a tree. There were three different old ladies I had to help cross the street.

By the third time, I thought there was a conspiracy of crones trying to engage in insurance fraud with how merrily they were willing to walk into busy intersections. It gave me a lot of opportunities to review the real physical aftermath of the ADU's attack. The trees were all gone, burnt or eaten by Shivvy, but there were still gaps where they grew through buildings or in the case of the roundabout completely upended what was a nice green area in the center. There were bits of loose wood everywhere as well.

Wyrdwood. It was all dead and harmless, but it had this distinctly tainted color to it that made it distinguishable from other kinds of wood. It always seemed less like natural wood and more like some sort of material that corrupts wood, or makes corrupted versions of wood wholesale. And if that's what it did to wood, I could only imagine what it was doing to people in the case of Gleditsia or the Fathers. Not enough information to really build from there.

Would just spend too much time mulling over the same things repeatedly. My leaps and bounds led me towards the sound of music, where I ended up landing close to a busker. He was strumming along on a guitar, and managed to actually build up a decently-sized crowd. More than I would've expected for the current state of the city. I took to joining the group to listen to the music. Just something calming and distracting from the day to day.

It let me be a person among people, for on- FWEEM A flash of blue light revealed a tall body in a dark cloak. A green, clawed hand came from the opening of the article and pulled it free and tossed it through the air. Without the cloak, the individual could be seen. Lanky, but taut with muscle. A deep, verdant color across his entire body, leading up to a fat and rounded head with wide, pointed ears. A long and sharp chin in contrast to the almost circular shape of his skull otherwise.

A pair of prominent, slitted red eyes observed. Its mouth opened, revealing a serpentine tongue, and spoke in a high pitched, male voice.

"People of Charlottesville! I have come to subject you to horrors and terrors unknown! You will learn to live in fear of the GREEN MEANIE-" He stopped mid-speech as his gaze cast on me. My body language. The body language that conveyed every thought in my head at that moment. About how I could probably cross the distance to him faster than he could dodge. About how his head looked easy to dribble against the concrete. About my curiosity as to if he'd keep up that voice when his bones broke.

About my pondering as to if his blood would be just as green as his skin. The look on his face sank as he spoke again. The same voice, but less grandiose tone.

"…Is this Charlottesville, North Carolina?" I shook my head.

"Charlottesville, Virginia." One of the people in the crowd shouted out a "It's not Charlottesville in North Carolina! It's Charlotte!"

"It is?" The green creature asked. He put his large, clawed hands on either side of his head, looking exasperated.

"Oh, damn it, damn it! This is why I should've used coordinates instead of a city name in the teleporter!" He then raised a clawed finger.

"Forget I was here! The people of Charlottesville are safe for now! I have business to attend to in Charlotte!" I took a step forward.

"No. You don't." His eyes bulged out from just that motion. Despite the fact he might have been a bit taller than me, he seemed to practically shrink away from just the fear reaction he had.

"…You're right. I don't. I am going to go home and pay my taxes."

"I'm going to keep an eye on the news. If I hear about anything happening in Charlotte, I am going to find you."

"You got it-" He squeaked out before another FWEEM of blue light took him away. The crowd muttered amongst themselves before one asked "Does that count as you saving the day?" I looked towards the speaker. I pondered on it, before shrugging.

"I suppose."