Shades of Gray
folder
Angst › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
931
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Angst › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
931
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Shades of Gray
Travis Locke was three years old when his parents- Dr. John Locke, a.k.a. Dr. Quantum, and Songbird- disappeared. They had heroically rushed into a volcano to stop a device that would cause mass destruction. They never returned. According to a will left behind by Dr. Quantum, a somber mausoleum was erected in Gramercy Memorial Gardens and Funeral Home. Fans of the beloved heroes often lay flowers outside the crypt, but the doors always remained locked and no flowers inside. Travis, in the past thirteen years, had never once visited the spot. Within him was a wellspring of anger. The man that sired him took the mother that he loved so much, that he couldn't let go of, from him.
While he was alive, Dr. Quantum was the world's richest man at varying times, but not consistently. While his vast genius made expanding his capital seem almost as child's play, Dr. Quantum's attention wasn't really focused on making money- economics was an intellectual game for him, and so he sometimes let his financial concerns lapse while his interest wandered elsewhere. Since his death, his financial legacy shrunk slightly, but not as much as most experts expected. Either his conservator, Tidwell, was an uncanny financial mind in his own right, or- as improbably as it may seem- the good Doctor left accurate financial projections for an as-yet undetermined duration into the future. If the latter is true (though most people dismiss it as being outright impossible), there are a lot of people who would like to see those projections.
He was left in the care of Dr. Quantum's manservant, Christopher Tidwell. Travis was home schooled on the family estate on Quantum Island, located a few miles off the coast of Century City. As per the orders of Dr. Quantum, Travis was kept on the island and not allowed to be around other children lest he lose control of his temper or the powers that would begin to develop within him.
When Travis hit puberty, his destructive powers did begin to develop and Chris began to realize that Travis was going to be incredibly difficult to manage. Chris decided the best thing for Travis would be to get him around kids his own age. The troubled teen was enrolled at James A. Garfield, a private school in Langford, the area of town more commonly known as "the Bohemian Triangle" or just "the Triangle."
Travis grew up in a life of luxury tainted by an unruly spirit and contempt for the lifestyle that had stolen his mother from him. Superheroing. If she hadn't followed his father in this fool's quest, then she would still be alive today.
So it was with great reluctance that he made yet another appearance at the Expo Center for the Sci-Fi and Comics Convention. The "Golden Boy of Century City," as he was often thought of, was a regular attraction at these conventions. His PR people seemed to think it was good for his image to get out there and make some appearances among the younger generation that idolized superheroes. Travis shared a sort of celebrity status in the city due to who his parents were. When he first came to Garfield a couple years ago, it was kind of cool, but now it was starting to annoy him. Travis sat on the stage upfront, the announcer giving him a huge introduction and the young man could just sit there barely managing to keep the faux smile on his face. His facial muscles were spared when a laser bolt grazed the announcer and caused him to duck behind the podium.
It didn't help matters that Travis was supposed to talk about what it was like being the child of two well-known superheroes. Telling the truth wasn't an option, so he had to prep himself for thirty minutes of bullshit.
"Enough of this. It's time to get on to the costume contest. I nominate myself for first place."
Travis looked towards the back of the room where a woman in a black bustier and thong with knee high boots was posturing with a laser pistol in one hand and her cape draped over the other. Icy blue eyes scanned the crowd from behind a black domino mask. A dozen men in tuxedos with domino masks and submachine guns surrounded her. They were busy shoving people out of the way and to the ground.
"Any contenders?"
Travis frowned and looked around the room. People could get hurt if this nutcase got control of the room. Plus, he'd been held hostage before, when he was younger, he didn't fancy going through it again. Travis started to stand up when he saw a figure climbing along the rafters in the ceiling. Rolling in from the main doors out of the showroom, a mist started to form around the woman and the men surrounding her. From someplace that Travis wasn't quite able to pinpoint, a disembodied voice spoke.
"I believe the lingerie show is at the B&D Convention over near Hadley. There's no first place for wannabe-Domme's here."
The woman spun around, her otherwise attractive face contorted in rage.
"Who DARES speak so to the Midnight Lady!"
The mists began to fill the area around the Midnight Lady and her goons, causing Travis to use his powers of sonar to get a feel for where she was. He could tell that she was beginning to panic just before she began firing wildly into the crowd. Before he had a chance to act, a bubble of blue force surrounded her hand and ripped the pistol away from her grasp. Travis could just make out a figure in the back of the room that was hovering a few feet off the floor and holding the gun out in front of him.
"Naughty naughty," the figure smirked and bent the laser pistol into an unrecognizable shape.
Leaping down from the rafters, a woman in a black leather outfit pounced onto one of the Midnight's Lady men, before grabbing another one and throwing him into a third. Plowing through the crowd with soft murmurs of "pardon me" and "excuse me" was a silver streak that knocked the Midnight Lady back and slammed her into a wall. With a snarl, the Midnight Lady grabbed a boy from the crowd and produced a blade from her purse.
"Get away from me!"
As the woman maneuvered around the crowd, Travis sighed and waited until her back was to him. As she started to back towards the stage, he let loose a high-pitched scream, which assailed her ears and caused the woman to drop her knife and cover her ears. She could only endure the pain for a few seconds before passing out.
It was just a matter of moments before the rest of the Midnight Lady's gang was wrapped up and Travis found the other heroes looking to him, as if he had some answers for them. As if he was his father.
"Uh"¦ let's talk on the roof. I know there's at least one of us who doesn't want to talk to the cops."
He cast a sidelong glance at the girl in the leather outfit, who he had recognized as the vigilante known as Panthera. She was known for being the self-proclaimed protector of Hadley, the worse part of town, and had on a number of occasions had run-ins with the police. She just met his gaze with a thin-lipped smile and nodded.
A few minutes later, Travis got his first good look at this band of heroes. The first one that got his almost undivided attention was Panthera in her curve-hugging black leather. The body suit covered her from head to toe with the only skin showing was the cutout around her mouth and nose. Her fingers ended in glistening, silver claws.
The other one his attention was drawn to was an attractive blonde whose face was mostly obscured by a hood and a cloak that covered most of her body but managed to show off her ample cleavage in an outfit that was cut down to her navel.
The other female who wasn't quite as much of a knockout but still attracted his eye was one dressed in an outfit that reminded him of a comic book he saw inside. Witchblade, or something like that.
The only other one remaining was the guy with the blue field of energy who was decked out in a blue and purple costume complete with a cloak and a domino mask. The thing that caught Travis' attention the most though was that the guy was missing his right arm.
"Okay, so I'm Travis Locke, in case you don't know. Who are you guys?"
The only other male in the group piped up first.
"Sen Baraka."
"Ohh-kay," Travis turned and looked across the women. The one that looked like Witchblade cleared her throat and stammered, "Y-Yttria."
"What?"
"Yttria."
"Right."
"I'm Myst."
Travis smiled at her charmingly and shook her hand.
"Nice to meet you."
He then turned to the only one remaining.
"And you're Panthera."
Panthera smirked and leaned against the wall and watched the police starting to swarm into the building.
Yttria was the first to speak. "So, are you forming a superhero team?"
Inwardly, Travis groaned and then looked at Myst and Panthera, who were both waiting for his reply.
"I"¦ suppose."
Travis once thought he would never become a superhero. Looking at these two young women, he had cause to change his mind. Another part of him though, a darker part, really liked releasing his pent up aggression against someone. He could beat the shit out of someone and not get in trouble.
"Any restrictions on who can join?"
"Look"¦ I," Travis paused as he looked around the group and saw that they all seemed to be just as interested as Yttria in what he had to say.
"No. I guess you're all welcome to join if you want."
Yttria smiled and nodded. "Count me in."
"Me too."
Travis nodded at Sen Baraka and then looked at Myst.
"Yes, I'd be interested in assisting you in this endeavor."
"Wonderful. How about you," Travis asked, looking over at Panthera.
"Look. I'm not interested in joining your little club."
"So"¦ why are you up here?"
Panthera stared at him for a few moments, obviously wanting to say something, before shaking her head and jumping off the building.
With his exceptionally sensitive hearing, Travis heard Yttria mutter under her breath, "good riddance."
Myst sat down cross-legged and looked up at Travis, "So, what do we call ourselves?"
Travis felt a headache threatening to take hold of him and started massaging his temples.
"I"¦ don't know. I guess I'll get my PR people on it."
Yttria looked up quickly. "You have PR people? Cool."
"Yeah, I guess it is. I've got class tomorrow, so I need to go ahead and get out of here. See you guys later?"
Travis started to lift off the ground and fly home.
"Oh"¦ but, how will we get in touch with each other and where do we meet and will we have a base?"
Reluctantly, he paused and hovered a foot off the ground.
"Just call Locke Industries. They'll get you in touch with me. We can work out the details later."
"Oh. Okay."
Without giving Yttria a chance to ask another question, Travis flew off.
While he was alive, Dr. Quantum was the world's richest man at varying times, but not consistently. While his vast genius made expanding his capital seem almost as child's play, Dr. Quantum's attention wasn't really focused on making money- economics was an intellectual game for him, and so he sometimes let his financial concerns lapse while his interest wandered elsewhere. Since his death, his financial legacy shrunk slightly, but not as much as most experts expected. Either his conservator, Tidwell, was an uncanny financial mind in his own right, or- as improbably as it may seem- the good Doctor left accurate financial projections for an as-yet undetermined duration into the future. If the latter is true (though most people dismiss it as being outright impossible), there are a lot of people who would like to see those projections.
He was left in the care of Dr. Quantum's manservant, Christopher Tidwell. Travis was home schooled on the family estate on Quantum Island, located a few miles off the coast of Century City. As per the orders of Dr. Quantum, Travis was kept on the island and not allowed to be around other children lest he lose control of his temper or the powers that would begin to develop within him.
When Travis hit puberty, his destructive powers did begin to develop and Chris began to realize that Travis was going to be incredibly difficult to manage. Chris decided the best thing for Travis would be to get him around kids his own age. The troubled teen was enrolled at James A. Garfield, a private school in Langford, the area of town more commonly known as "the Bohemian Triangle" or just "the Triangle."
Travis grew up in a life of luxury tainted by an unruly spirit and contempt for the lifestyle that had stolen his mother from him. Superheroing. If she hadn't followed his father in this fool's quest, then she would still be alive today.
So it was with great reluctance that he made yet another appearance at the Expo Center for the Sci-Fi and Comics Convention. The "Golden Boy of Century City," as he was often thought of, was a regular attraction at these conventions. His PR people seemed to think it was good for his image to get out there and make some appearances among the younger generation that idolized superheroes. Travis shared a sort of celebrity status in the city due to who his parents were. When he first came to Garfield a couple years ago, it was kind of cool, but now it was starting to annoy him. Travis sat on the stage upfront, the announcer giving him a huge introduction and the young man could just sit there barely managing to keep the faux smile on his face. His facial muscles were spared when a laser bolt grazed the announcer and caused him to duck behind the podium.
It didn't help matters that Travis was supposed to talk about what it was like being the child of two well-known superheroes. Telling the truth wasn't an option, so he had to prep himself for thirty minutes of bullshit.
"Enough of this. It's time to get on to the costume contest. I nominate myself for first place."
Travis looked towards the back of the room where a woman in a black bustier and thong with knee high boots was posturing with a laser pistol in one hand and her cape draped over the other. Icy blue eyes scanned the crowd from behind a black domino mask. A dozen men in tuxedos with domino masks and submachine guns surrounded her. They were busy shoving people out of the way and to the ground.
"Any contenders?"
Travis frowned and looked around the room. People could get hurt if this nutcase got control of the room. Plus, he'd been held hostage before, when he was younger, he didn't fancy going through it again. Travis started to stand up when he saw a figure climbing along the rafters in the ceiling. Rolling in from the main doors out of the showroom, a mist started to form around the woman and the men surrounding her. From someplace that Travis wasn't quite able to pinpoint, a disembodied voice spoke.
"I believe the lingerie show is at the B&D Convention over near Hadley. There's no first place for wannabe-Domme's here."
The woman spun around, her otherwise attractive face contorted in rage.
"Who DARES speak so to the Midnight Lady!"
The mists began to fill the area around the Midnight Lady and her goons, causing Travis to use his powers of sonar to get a feel for where she was. He could tell that she was beginning to panic just before she began firing wildly into the crowd. Before he had a chance to act, a bubble of blue force surrounded her hand and ripped the pistol away from her grasp. Travis could just make out a figure in the back of the room that was hovering a few feet off the floor and holding the gun out in front of him.
"Naughty naughty," the figure smirked and bent the laser pistol into an unrecognizable shape.
Leaping down from the rafters, a woman in a black leather outfit pounced onto one of the Midnight's Lady men, before grabbing another one and throwing him into a third. Plowing through the crowd with soft murmurs of "pardon me" and "excuse me" was a silver streak that knocked the Midnight Lady back and slammed her into a wall. With a snarl, the Midnight Lady grabbed a boy from the crowd and produced a blade from her purse.
"Get away from me!"
As the woman maneuvered around the crowd, Travis sighed and waited until her back was to him. As she started to back towards the stage, he let loose a high-pitched scream, which assailed her ears and caused the woman to drop her knife and cover her ears. She could only endure the pain for a few seconds before passing out.
It was just a matter of moments before the rest of the Midnight Lady's gang was wrapped up and Travis found the other heroes looking to him, as if he had some answers for them. As if he was his father.
"Uh"¦ let's talk on the roof. I know there's at least one of us who doesn't want to talk to the cops."
He cast a sidelong glance at the girl in the leather outfit, who he had recognized as the vigilante known as Panthera. She was known for being the self-proclaimed protector of Hadley, the worse part of town, and had on a number of occasions had run-ins with the police. She just met his gaze with a thin-lipped smile and nodded.
A few minutes later, Travis got his first good look at this band of heroes. The first one that got his almost undivided attention was Panthera in her curve-hugging black leather. The body suit covered her from head to toe with the only skin showing was the cutout around her mouth and nose. Her fingers ended in glistening, silver claws.
The other one his attention was drawn to was an attractive blonde whose face was mostly obscured by a hood and a cloak that covered most of her body but managed to show off her ample cleavage in an outfit that was cut down to her navel.
The other female who wasn't quite as much of a knockout but still attracted his eye was one dressed in an outfit that reminded him of a comic book he saw inside. Witchblade, or something like that.
The only other one remaining was the guy with the blue field of energy who was decked out in a blue and purple costume complete with a cloak and a domino mask. The thing that caught Travis' attention the most though was that the guy was missing his right arm.
"Okay, so I'm Travis Locke, in case you don't know. Who are you guys?"
The only other male in the group piped up first.
"Sen Baraka."
"Ohh-kay," Travis turned and looked across the women. The one that looked like Witchblade cleared her throat and stammered, "Y-Yttria."
"What?"
"Yttria."
"Right."
"I'm Myst."
Travis smiled at her charmingly and shook her hand.
"Nice to meet you."
He then turned to the only one remaining.
"And you're Panthera."
Panthera smirked and leaned against the wall and watched the police starting to swarm into the building.
Yttria was the first to speak. "So, are you forming a superhero team?"
Inwardly, Travis groaned and then looked at Myst and Panthera, who were both waiting for his reply.
"I"¦ suppose."
Travis once thought he would never become a superhero. Looking at these two young women, he had cause to change his mind. Another part of him though, a darker part, really liked releasing his pent up aggression against someone. He could beat the shit out of someone and not get in trouble.
"Any restrictions on who can join?"
"Look"¦ I," Travis paused as he looked around the group and saw that they all seemed to be just as interested as Yttria in what he had to say.
"No. I guess you're all welcome to join if you want."
Yttria smiled and nodded. "Count me in."
"Me too."
Travis nodded at Sen Baraka and then looked at Myst.
"Yes, I'd be interested in assisting you in this endeavor."
"Wonderful. How about you," Travis asked, looking over at Panthera.
"Look. I'm not interested in joining your little club."
"So"¦ why are you up here?"
Panthera stared at him for a few moments, obviously wanting to say something, before shaking her head and jumping off the building.
With his exceptionally sensitive hearing, Travis heard Yttria mutter under her breath, "good riddance."
Myst sat down cross-legged and looked up at Travis, "So, what do we call ourselves?"
Travis felt a headache threatening to take hold of him and started massaging his temples.
"I"¦ don't know. I guess I'll get my PR people on it."
Yttria looked up quickly. "You have PR people? Cool."
"Yeah, I guess it is. I've got class tomorrow, so I need to go ahead and get out of here. See you guys later?"
Travis started to lift off the ground and fly home.
"Oh"¦ but, how will we get in touch with each other and where do we meet and will we have a base?"
Reluctantly, he paused and hovered a foot off the ground.
"Just call Locke Industries. They'll get you in touch with me. We can work out the details later."
"Oh. Okay."
Without giving Yttria a chance to ask another question, Travis flew off.