Second, I tried to put just enough of twist on the characters and events, that when the full story is posted, its origins are obvious, but, it is uniquely entertaining because of the twists involved. Also, this is pretty much planned as a one shot sort of thing. Two episodes. One little story. Over and done.
So without further ado...
In the infinite ripples of time and dimension, everything started with the first. As events transpired, every possible choice gave birth to another place, another time, alternate realities spreading out from the one in infinite waves. Some are marked by differences so small, as to be nearly unnoticeable. Some are marked by changes so vast they are nearly unrecognizable. Most fall somewhere in between. this is a story of one of those in between places, Earth 720...home of Infinite New Vindicators!
Chapter 1: Brawl at the Mall-
"Welcome to the New Vindicators Academy European Campus." Doctor Talley had said, under idyllic Autumn skies.
"Welcome to school. Now beat the snot out of each other." Alex Murphy thought sourly.
Alex, like most of the others in the locker room looked decidedly unhappy about their first official activity at school. The Sophmore Blitz they called it. A tradition they said. Absolutely effing stupid was how would term it, and that was being gracious. Gazing balefully at the uniform inside the locker, the brown haired youth felt his stomach churn.
"What happens in Fight School, stays in Fight School." He grumbled.
To his left, a tall Spanish youth, all oily charm and casanova swagger looked askance at the garment. "It looks like polyester. I can't be seen wearing polyester, my reputation will be ruined!"
"Oh, I do not zink zese uniforms are polyester Viktor." Piped the diminutive French boy on Alex's right. "Eet eez obviously a zyntheteek of zome zort, but, more durable zan zimple polyester."
"Bueno, though I wish I had time to modify this rag. Really? Matching uniforms? I did not think this was Catholic School."
"Neither did I." Grumbled Jack Rexroth from across the locker room. "I especially didn't think it was Catholic Girls' School, but, damn he whines like a bitch."
"Excuse me, did you say something?" The large, blonde Finn beside Jack asked.
Jack looked at him for a second, trying to decide whether that was a challenge or not. The bigger teen had an open, friendly demeanor, so Jack decided not.
"Just talkin' to myself bud."
"Just talkin' to myself Otso."
"Oh. So how do they choose the sides..." The burly Finn let sentence trail off.
"Right. So how do they choose sides Jack?"
"Dunno." The sharp featured American said, then a sly look crossed his face. "But I bet most of these guys don't want to fight each other."
"How do you know?"
"In America, Neos have to play it cool. You don't run around showing off what you can do. While Europe might be more tolerant about it in theory, I bet no SPB shows off here either. It's like being gay in the freakin' military."
"What do you mean?"
"Don't ask, Don't tell bubba. You can only be good at fighting if you practice. Since we're all new here, we know there hasn't been a whole lot o' that."
Otso just grunted and went about changing. What he didn't say was, Jack was only partially correct. What if fighting was part of your powers? What if you became primitive and powerful? When then?
Not far away, a youth with bright green eyes and a mop of black hair quickly stripped out of his dark clothes and slipped into the uniform. Surreptitiously, he looked over his classmates. He wondered who among them might be weak? Which would be tough? Which would scream? His eyes were drawn to Gaspar and Cornelis. They were the best of last years' freshmen? Pathetic. Morose whiners, the whole lot of them.
"Has antone got a knife or scissors?" Jack asked loudly.
"What evaire do you need zem for?" Martin asked.
"I need to make some adjustments to this flippin' costume." Came the reply.
"I need everything above the waist cut off."
"Zen I can be of assistance." Martin smiled and a pair of chrome shears winked into existence. A shimmering tether of energy linked them with the French teens' hand. In a flash, Jacks' uniform was bisected.
"Thanks Martin." The tattooed youth said, pulling on his pants. He left the severed upper portion and the boots sitting by the locker.
"All you're wearing is pants?" Otso asked.
"Yeah. It's easier that way jack said nonchalantly.
Meanwhile, the green eyed youth, Vladislav Radikovich, had added tight black gloves and a black, semi-sheer, nylon hood, complete with painted on clown's face to his uniform.
"You brought that with you? Who're you supposed to be?" Asked Alex, taking notice of Vlad for the first time. "Serial killer boy?"
Vlad just turned his head toward Alex without saying a word. Even with his eyes obscured by the stocking mask, the American youth could feel the weight of his stare.
"Freakin' great!" Alex swore, turning away. "It's too early in the day for bugnuts crazy."
As Alex stalked away, Viktor trotted to catch up. "Alex mi amigo, wait up!"
Meanwhile Jack turned and shot a thumbs up gesture at Vlad. Vlad instinctively returned the gesture, but, his attention was still on Alex. Alex and warm cascades of blood.
In contrast to the noisy chatter of the men, the women's locker room had been fairly quiet. Only three girls would be participating in the Blitz. They dressed silently, each lost in their own thoughts. Emily finally broke the silence.
"So," She said, zipping up the black and white bodysuit. "what can I expect today?"
"Expect to fight, I would think." Tatjana Nelson deadpanned, fluffing her luxurious auburn locks in front of the mirror. Once satisfied with her hair, she reached into her compac and pulled out some lipstick.
"Doing your make-up Tat?" The lean. blonde, British girl, Kirstie Arnett asked. "Before the Blitz?"
"Never pass up a chance to look good darling." The German girl responded.
Emily rolled her eyes dramatically, and both she and Kirstie burst out laughing.
"It's not nice to make fun darlings." The tall girl pouted.
Striking a sexy pose, hands on hips, her modest bosom outthrust, Emily pouted back. "But darling, you make it so easy!"
"I may be a lot of things," Tatjana said, with mock severity."but easy isn't one of them."
"Oy." Kirstie groaned, laying back on the locker room bench, covering her face with her hands. "Dear God, save me from Marlene Dietrich's evil clone."
Now it was Emily's turn to grin. "Marlene Dietrich was a blonde Kirstie...like you."
Kirstie snickered. "A femme fatale, I most certainly am not."
"So what do you suppose is the liklihood of us all ending up on the same squad?" Emily asked, while examining her uniform in the mirror. "I really need to customize this." she murmured.
"There's zero chance of we'll end up on the same squad darling." Tatjana explained. "Gaspar wants you and hates me, ever since what happened last summer."
"What happened last summer?" The dark haired Esper asked, snagging the red lipstick out of Tatjana's hand.
"Gaspar and I finally hooked up darling." Tatjan met her eyes in the mirror, lifted her hand and wagged her pinkie finger suggestively. "There was a ... little problem."
"TAT!!" Both girls squealed.
"Sorry darlings, but, for all his muscles, Lluvia is lacking firepower...if you get my drift. I'm tall though and Em, you're petite, maybe he thinks you'll be a better match."
"Can we just go now?" Kirstie growled, beet red with embarrassment. Pulling on a baseball cap to cover her blonde curls, she turned toward the door.
"Sure." Responded Emily, a small smile gracing her lips.
Outside, the sophmore class of the NVAE assembled under the watchful eyes of their fellow students and the staff. Standing slightly apart, Cornelis Nooteboom and Gaspar Zorilla de Higueras readied themselves to choose their squads. Gaspar had won the coin toss, thus got first pick.
"Emily." He announced. All three girls rolled their eyes and giggled.
"Martin." Cornelis intoned loudly, over the noise.
And so it went until the two teams were finalized.
Emily Adler (Apocrypha)
Jack Rexroth (Cacodemon)
Kirstie Arnett (Parabola)
Otso Karrell (Narwhale)
Jason Lamperouge (Paradigm)
Tatjana Nelson (Fach)
Alex Murphy (Exemplar)
Martin Curie (Indomitable)
Viktor DeGallow (Raze)
Vladislav Radikovich (Tatterdemalion)
To be continued wrote...
Fighting is done. Blood is spilt and Martin pukes.