Aberrant: Mutant High - The Boy Under The Hood

[Warren Verona]

...and in other news. Anti-Mutant protesters rallied outside City Hall this evening in a show of their dissatisfaction with the new Mutant Test Ban Treaty passed by the United Nations earlier this week. Under the new law, despite aberrants not having any civil rights, it will be illegal for privately owned companies or military organizations to perform genetic experimentation upon them. Pro-mutant supporters think this a great step in the fight for equal rights for the world’s newest species.

Doctor Jericho Drumm, Director of the Lawrence Hunt Academy for the Genetically Gifted had this to say...

A young man stood on the sidewalk. His breath trailed up in a visible puff as flakes of snow drifted down from the blackened heavens above. His face, reflected in the glass of the storefront, showed some signs of relief as he listened to the newscast trough the window surrounded by several others.

“I can’t believe this crap.” One man said to another and the young man’s eye darted to where they stood behind him, looking at them through the reflection in the glass. “I tell ya, we’re gonna give them this and before you know it those freaks will be runnin’ the show. They need to keep this whole ‘shoot on sight’ policy and burn that damn school to the ground. It’s a training camp for terrorists I tell ya.”

“Damn freaks.” The other replied. “They say the explosion over on 41st was one of them showing off. Killed four people.”

He’d heard enough. The young man slid out from between the crowded people and made his was down the street. The hood concealed his face and the heavy leather bomber coat he wore kept him warm in the bitter New York winter. A few wet strands of hair fell out from the safety of the hood but he buried his hands deep in his pockets and kept walking.

The world had changed a lot these past few years and the young man had watched it all from the alleyways and gutters of the great Island of Manhattan. Warren Covelli, the boy under the hood, was a veteran of the streets. Having lived in the abandoned tunnels of unused sewer systems and half way houses across the city he knew his concrete jungle like the back of his hand. As the mutant population continued to grow in numbers with literally tens of hundred of mutants going into hiding with each passing day it was obvious that something was coming soon.

He could smell it.

War.

Down a darkened alleyway he turned where a few of the cities homeless gathered around a barrel trying to get it lit in the damp cold with frost bitten fingers and wet matches. Slowly he walked on as his body covered the last wedge of light from the street, casting a shadow over the men who looked in his direction as he approached. His hand slipped out of his pocket, holding a crumpled handful of McDonald’s napkins. Gently they sparked as his hand was encased in a deep purple aura that wisped up and off into the night sky like a trial of smoke. He dropped the now glowing napkins into the barrel as he passed by, casting an eerie glow upon the men from within their fire pit.

The molecules within the napkins reached a critical point and a sudden ‘thump’, like compressed air echoed from within the barrel, the kinetic friction generated heat to ignite a fire, and after a strange moment of the fire having a purplish hue it was as normal, and warm, as any fire should be.

“Thanks, Revenant.” One of the old men said to the young man, his voice hoarse and gravely from years of smoking, drinking, and living in squalor. “Yer alright kid.”

The bum didn’t see the approving grin of the man beneath the hood. He waved to the two men without even turning about, just raising his arm to let them know he heard them.

“You see that?” The second homeless man asked after the boy was long out of earshot. “He, he…”

“Yeah, kid’s on of those mutants.” The older man said, rather casually. “And don’t get any ideas. He’s a good kid, mutant or not, he’s a good kid. Don’t start none, won’t be none. Got it?”

He nodded his head, still in awe of the sight he witnessed a few moments ago. “Why do they call him Revenant?”

“I asked him that once.” He lit a cigarette off the now heated steel barrel. “Said he had unfinished business or somethin' I dunno.”

[Warren Verona]

His foot slammed down on the parapet of the rooftop and in a swift motion he was airborne and the gap between the rooftop he was on the roof we was heading to was suddenly cleared with a graceful no handed cartwheel that would have left Olympic class athletes stunned to have observed.

He landed with a thump and his stride was hardly even slowed as he made his across the roof to the next parapet, his foot hit it and he was off again like a gymnast. He cleared the gap between the building easily, the alleyway below was nothing but a shadowy river of blackness. He felt the rush as time slowed to a crawl and he gazed upon the lights of his beloved city from upside down and twelve stories up. Mutant or not, he’d never trade these abilities for anything.

His feet touched down still at nearly full momentum. His eyes grew wide and a curse rose up in the back of his mind as the patch of ice accepted his landing and sent him right onto his back where he slid about ten feet, slamming into an access hatch.

New shoes… I’d trade em all for new freakin’ shoes. He winced, groaning slightly as he got up to his feet. Damn that hurts… hope no body saw that. Yeah, all I need is for a witness to that mess and my whole dark and brooding awesome anti-hero reputation is right down the drain.

Sighing once more and swallowing what little pride he had left after the tumble he limped off to the next roof. Forget it. I’m granny jumping like everyone else tonight.

17 minutes later…

From where stood, looking trough the large skylight, the few goons that provided protection for the sleazy massage parlor were gathered in the small office of the King Sleaze that ran the place. Warren listened but was hardly concerned about the conversation, it was ‘closing time’ and that meant it was time to have a small meeting and then lock the cash up in the rather cheap safe behind the horrid picture of the sailboat on the wall.

Patiently he waited until they were finished and all filed out of the room. Swiftly he applied duct tape to the square pane of glass and with an elbow shattered it as silently as one could, thankfully he’d done this enough times to be pretty good at making it rather soft quiet. A flick of the window latch and tug on the sky light and a hop through and before he knew it his feet softly touched down upon the dirty hard wood floor.

Cracking a safe, contrary to popular belief, was actually pretty easy. A twist here and a listen there and any person with half a brain and a stethoscope could pull it off. Two years and three hundred safes worth of experience helped too. The door opened and he grinned slightly from under his hood. Six bricks of cheddar were sitting right there for the taking, cold and alone and waiting for Warren to give them a good home. Of course being the Good Samaritan he was he grabbed them and started loading his pockets.

“And I’m telling ya, those chicks up at that school are about as hot as bitches can get. It’s like erection city up there.” The door swung open and the yellow light of the hallway was blocked by the shadow of two men stretched into the room and stopped suddenly.

“Alright, I know this looks bad.” Warren said, hand full of bills still stuffed in his pockets in front of the open safe. “But it’s not what it looks like.”

“Looks like you hopped through the window up there and are helping yourself to our boss’s loot.” One of the goons said plainly as a gun slid from behind his coat.

“Okay,” He slid his hands out slowly, money falling to the floor as he did. All the remained between his finger and thumb was a quarter. “This is exactly what it looks like then.”

“Yeah. S’what I figured.” The goon said, taking a step towards him, the gun low and near his hip. “I’d a shot ya by now, but I think the boss’ll wanna beat you within an inch of your life first.

“Yeah, see…” The quarter flickered and started to glow purple as unstable energy coursed through it. “Not gonna be able to make it. I’m booked all week.”

The goon seemed unimpressed as the quarter sparked into a glowing hiss. He nodded his head towards the doorway. “Nice trick, kid. Joe. We got a mutant.”

As the second goon took a step his eyes glimmered in the shadows before a pulse enveloped his hands and slammed Revenant hard in the chest with invisible force. He flew back and cracked his back on the mulling the office’s windows and fell down to the floor behind the desk. Wincing in pain he cursed himself for being so stupid. Mutant. Shoulda guessed they had a Freelancer on the pay roll. Damn it.

The quarter hit the floor with a jingle and ratled on its edges. Warren saw the glowing coin and his eyes went wide in shock. He’d charged it with everything he had and that wasn’t good. Now that it was out of his grip he couldn’t stop the chain reaction that he’d started within the coin. Already the molecules within the object had read a critical mass and soon…

Oh, shi- He threw his arm over face and braced himself.

The explosion kicked both goons out of the room. The mutant through the doorway and the goon with the gun went clean through the wall tasting plaster as he chewed old moldy drywall.

Warren wasn’t so lucky either though; the blast picked him up and launched him clean out the window. He soared across the street below in an arc, starting on the twelfth story he crashed through a window on the fourth story across the way rolling through an apartment and colliding with furniture.

His world faded out as darkness claimed him. His body was aching all over from his own blast and every time he told his muscles to do something they did nothing.

Oh, man… The ceiling wavered and blurred as his eyes lost focus. That was so cool…

[Warren Verona]

The light burned like a sun as the world slowly came back into focus. Groaning as he regained consciousness Warren rose his hand up to rub his hand and found that his other hand followed suit. A painful 'clunk' echoed as a cold, metal gauntlet tapped his bruised forehead.

Lightweight, aircraft titanium gauntlets completely covered his hands held together by a thick cable made from the same matter. He scowled and focused his energy... and got a shock that shattered his ability to call up his abilies. Ow! Fuck...

"...smarts, don't it kid?" A man leaned over him and looked down at the young man on the gurney. He was well dressed and looked like a million dollars, smelled like it too. From his designer suit and perfectly groomed mustache Warren pegged him as government. "You'll find it hard to use your abilities in those, they're programmed to react to the energy produced when a mutant uses their gifts."

He looked at the man and is brow went straight as his eyes squinted. Swifty his arms lunged up and a loud 'clang' echoed through the small, unadorned room. Blood dripped from between the mans fingers as he staggered to remain on his feet.

Warren sat up swiftly to make his escape and in a heartbeat four officers trained their guns on him and dared him to give them a reason. He grinned and started to estimate how many he could take down before they got him.

"Wait!" The man held out his arm, still holding his bleeding nose with his other hand. "Officers, please. Stand down. He's scared, and confused, just relax. I'll handle this."

The tension subsided a bit, but the guns remained up. Warren looked the man in the eyes, his gaze was like that of a caged animal: afraid and ready to kill to get his freedom. He held out his wrists. "You forgot to program them to react to someone beating the crap out of you."

"Yes, well, it field tests like these that let us discover these little design flaws." He dabbed his nose with a handkerchief. "Thank you for that."

"My pleasure." The mutant replied flatly. "You deserved it."

"I meant helping with the testing," He replied as flatly and reached for something in his pocket. "Not hitting me in the face."

"Tomato, tomahto." Warren shrugged.

He produced a small, pen-sized, device and clicked a button on it. A few blue lights on the cuffs lit up, the locks disengaged, and they fell to the floor. "There now, let's talk, shall we?"

Confusion spread across Warren face as each officer in the room suddenly grew incredibly uncomfortable with the situation. With out the cuffs they might not be able to land a shot before he blew up everyone. "Are you crazy, or do you trust these guys to put me down by the time I beat you within an inch of your life?" The officers were so nervous with there being an unbound mutant in the room their guns were shaking. "I mean, look at em', seriously."

"No, Warren." He folded up his handkerchief and placed it, and the remote back into his pocket. "I only want to talk, like gentleman. Man to man, with no gizmos or animosity between us. I bound your hands and the shock caused you great discomfort, you hit me in the face and trust me, it's quite discomforting. I'd say we're even for the moment. Now, what I trust is that you're smart and rational enough to hear me out."

"How do you know my name?" He turned his head and narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

The man smiled. "Ready to hear me out?"