#`kenny is a threat!! he could snap at any moment!!` maybe YOU should give him space to fucking cope with losing his partner
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I am SO excited to play TWDG tonight. We're finally out of Jane hell and can move onto S3 !!!!!! I hate the way Kenny is written out but my god do I love Javier's story so much that it doesn't get me too down abt the game as a whole.
#ramblings#countdown to karl's jane ableism callout post /hj#seriously as much as i love s2 i cannot stand it once shes a main character. she genuinely makes me wanna vomit#`kenny is a threat!! he could snap at any moment!!` maybe YOU should give him space to fucking cope with losing his partner#like yeah kennys an asshole. i hate how he treats arvo since it gives me bad memories. but youre not helping#triggering him by making him think you got AJ killed is dumb and makes me genuinely grossed out more than kenny with arvo#i have thoughts on the way kenny is written in this game but thats for its own rambley post#just. fuck jane#anyways woooo javier my favorite `hes canonically bisexual but the game doesnt actually show it when they really should`!!!#i hope my brothers let me romance kate i love kate and javier's relationship. also fuck david
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Quirky - Chapter 3
A High School Superhero AU - Sanders Sides
(US Boku No Hero Academia AU - Will add tag list in a reblog! If I miss you, please let me know ASAP - Sorry this chapter took literally forever - As always, asks, comments, messages, reblogs, and keysmashes are more than welcome. Writers love feedback, guys!)
Chapter Four ->
<- Chapter Two
Roman drove the tip of his pencil into the corner of his wooden desk, creating a minuscule pit of graphite. Mr. Picani was bubbling off about literature somewhere in the background, but Roman couldn’t focus.
I can’t believe Specs made me look so bad in front of the whole class yesterday. Still twisting his pencil, he glanced to his right, where Logan was shifting his gaze from Picani back to his oilcloth notebook, much heftier than Roman’s wide-ruled pages.
How pretentious.
Logan pushed his glasses up his nose and raised his hand. “When did the Romantic poetry movement transition into Realism?”
“Excellent question, Logan, let’s talk about the influence of later authors...”
What a teacher’s pet, too. Roman’s thought was cut off by the crisp snap of the tip of his pencil breaking off, splintering fragments of graphite and wood like rubble around the edge of the tiny pit. He resisted chucking the pencil and stood up to sharpen it. The clunky roll of the pencil sharpener drowned out the lecture in the background.
He removed the pencil. The tip had broken off inside the machine, and he crammed it back inside to hear the grinding sound again. The machine was probably loud enough to be disruptive.
Big deal. Hope this lasts long enough that the nerd misses half the lecture.
Mr. Picani cleared his throat. Roman glanced up. The teacher had paused, apparently mid-sentence, to watch as Roman stabbed the pencil sharpener repeatedly. The whole class followed his gaze, and Roman thought he heard a snort from the kid who was always wearing too much dark eyeshadow. His grip on his pencil tightened, and he felt a final give and heard a resounding crack as the pencil broke in half.
Several students laughed, and Roman felt his face get hot. He turned around with half the pencil still in his fist and the other half in the machine, and dropped back into his desk.
Mr. Picani continued his lecture from where he’d left off, but Roman couldn’t hear anything except a sound like the ocean in his ears. He glanced to his left and right, and saw Logan continuing to take notes.
Smug bastard probably thinks this is real funny, Roman thought. He wouldn’t say so, though - he likes to act like he’s got no emotions. He’s probably a robot under all those layers of nerdiness.
Remy was just two desks beyond Logan, and was rolling gum between his teeth as he scribbled in his notebook. He hadn’t even glanced up when Picani had stopped class.
Somebody needs to put that guy in his place, too, Roman thought, tapping his half-pencil against his leg. I’m surrounded by a bunch of pretentious and quirkless jerks who all want to upstage me and make me look like crap.
He sunk lower in his desk. If he wasn’t coming out near the top of the class by the first evaluations, what was he going to tell his parents? They’d pulled all their own strings to make sure he’d get in on a recommendation, and after that first day on the field, it had looked like everything would be so easy.
That was the thing: when he had a chance to prove himself, by himself, he could do it—he could show everyone. It was only when other people got involved that he looked like such a fool. If Logan hadn’t totally abandoned him during the bomb exercise, Roman would surely have won easily. As it was, they’d come so close to losing that the match was almost a tie. It didn’t help that it was against Shades—what was his name? Remy—who’d already enjoyed embarrassing him once, and in front of the whole cafeteria and the upperclassmen, no less.
Roman tried to suppress the warmth in his cheeks and ears. Blushing wasn’t the way to start gaining back his reputation. He’d just have to prove himself, and that was only a matter of getting back onto that training field. He breathed deeply and rolled his fingers against the desk. Seeing the sparkles in his skin catch the light was always relaxing, and a little hypnotic.
No problem, no problem, he told himself. It’s only a few days in. Everybody will forget about all this stuff by the end of the semester. I’ll give them new stuff to remember.
The bell rang.
Kai tried to get Roman’s attention from across the room, but Roman only noticed Logan leaning in toward the eyeshadow kid and Terrence, and the three exchanged some comment.
Talking about me, I’m sure, Roman thought. No big deal, they’ll regret it later. It’s too bad Terrence likes those guys, his quirk isn’t bad, and he seems pretty cool.
But that didn’t matter, either. Kenny and Kai, who’d both gone to middle school with Roman, were still on his side. So were plenty of other kids. It was only a matter of keeping it that way.
***
Roman bounced slightly in his seat as Mr. Sanders entered the room. In the end, the other classes didn’t matter, including his embarrassment in literature. This was the Hero course, the real reason any of them were at UA, and if Roman was going to prove himself, it would have to be here.
“No exercises today,” Mr. Sanders said, sliding behind his desk with a grin as a few students watched nervously. “I bet you guys are tired after a couple days in the field. We’ll start today with a bit of housekeeping. You’ve started to get to know your classmates, and it’s time to elect a class representative.”
He held up his hand in anticipation as a few hands shot in the air. “Don’t stress yourselves out,” he said. “Just wait a moment.
“Selecting a class rep should not be about the student who is loudest or strongest or most popular, it should be about who you think is the best leader. It should be somebody who is organized and trustworthy.”
Roman’s chest expanded. Half the class was already on his side after the exercises of the first day of class, and only a few of the other students seemed like they could really compete.
“Students who would like to be eligible may write their names on the board now,” Mr. Sanders said. He held up a piece of chalk and was immediately rushed. Roman barely grabbed the chalk from the teacher’s hand before Terrence did, but as Roman reached the board he discovered that Logan had beaten him there, using a piece of chalk he’d taken from the board shelf.
Roman stewed as Logan wrote his full name in methodical cursive.
He sure takes notes faster than this - clearly taking forever just to spite me.
Roman jostled for Logan’s place as the shorter boy stepped aside. He wrote his own name above Logan’s before handing the chalk off to Dominic.
Not all the students had come to the board. Remy was leaning over to make some comment to the boy in the wheelchair, and the boy with too much eyeshadow was doodling absentmindedly in a notebook.
“All right!” Mr. Sanders said as the final student, Dahlia, wrote her name. “I’m always excited by student enthusiasm. We have…” He glanced at the board. “Six candidates for class representative!”
Roman read the list. His own name and Logan’s were at the top, followed by Dominic, Rafaela, Terrence, and Dahlia.
“We’ll be putting this up to a vote,” Mr. Sanders went on, holding up simple ballots. “The student with the most votes will be class representative, and the student who comes in second will be our deputy representative.”
There was a tap on Roman’s shoulder, and he turned around to see Kenny and Kai showing him a thumbs-up.
“Good luck,” Kenny whispered.
Roman gave a thumbs-up in return and smiled as Mr. Sanders handed out the ballots, and he covered his up halfway as he wrote his own name on the line.
No use pretending, he thought. Can you imagine if I wrote Specs’ name? He snorted to himself and folded the paper in half.
Mr. Sanders collected the papers in a small wicker basket, and tossed them a few times before pulling them out.
“Virgil, would you keep track of numbers on the board, please?” he asked.
Virgil slunk to the front of the room and picked up the chalk, scratching a shaky line each time the teacher counted a ballot. Roman bounced his leg as the numbers went up. He had four, five, six…
“And that’s it!” Mr. Sanders said. “That makes Roman our class president with six votes, and Dahlia our deputy president with five. Congratulations, you two.”
Roman only smiled and nodded, but inside he felt his heart turn over.
A few people still voted for me, even after that mess yesterday. And Specs didn’t even come second. The tally marks on the board showed that Logan was a close third behind Dahlia, but in the end he hadn't won. Being bookish doesn’t make a hero, kid, Roman thought, glancing at Logan and searching for a hint of disappointment. But Logan’s face was unconcerned as he opened up his notebook and picked up his pen.
Probably real torn up inside, I’d imagine, Roman thought. Or maybe not. Sometimes seems like he doesn't feel anything.
***
“Hey, Earth to Roman,” Kai said.
“Hmm?” Roman’s fork had been suspended between his tray and mouth for thirty seconds. “Sorry, just thinking about some stuff.”
“You’re class rep now, man,” Kenny said. “You have to be alert! Attentive!” He karate-chopped the air jokingly.
“Very funny,” Roman said. He turned to Kai. “What were you saying?”
“I asked if you heard about this new villain,” Kai said. “It was all over the news this morning.”
Roman shrugged. He’d woken up late and barely had time to get dressed before rushing out the door.
“A big logo was drawn on the sidewalk in front of city hall today - a black circle with half-circles for eyes.”
“Doesn’t sound like a villain to me,” Kenny said. “Probably just a street artist messing around.”
“Oh come on, right in front of city hall? Sure seems like a threat,” Kai retorted.
“Your dad didn’t mention it, Roman?” Kenny asked. Roman’s friends knew that the one-time Flying Falcon followed hero and villain news religiously.
“Oh, he’s been travelling this week,” Roman said. “Giving a speech at some college or something.” Despite his retirement, the Falcon still received frequent calls for visits, promotions, and sponsorships.
“I mean, considering how many heroes graduate every year, it’s crazy that villains can keep up,” Kenny said.
“Half of them are just one-time petty thieves trying to get on TV without knowing the first thing about actual methods,” Roman groaned. He couldn’t stand wannabes. “Their quirk is kinda cool and suddenly they think they’re the next supervillain of the century. They always get unmasked as some twenty-something who works as a barista or whatever.”
Rafaela slid into the cafeteria bench next to Kai in one fluid movement, courtesy of her elastic limbs.
“No need to show off,” Roman muttered. Rafaela had always been his biggest middle school competition.
“Says Roman,” she retorted. “What are you guys talking about?”
“That logo that appeared last night,” Kai said. “Looks like there’s a new villain in town.”
“Oh yeah, some villain,” she snorted. “What’s he gonna do, spray-paint the heroes into submission? I’m really scared.”
“Exactly what I was sayin,” Roman said. “It’s clearly just a stunt.”
“Well, we could pull a stunt of our own,” Rafaela said, taking a bite of her pasta salad.
“What are you talking about?”
“What, Roman Lightflight gets into hero school and suddenly leaves his deviant ways behind? Becomes a model student? Reforms from his delinquency?”
“Oh, come on, we never did anything all that bad,” Kai protested. “We went to a midnight movie once and didn’t pick up the popcorn we spilled.”
“Exactly,” Rafaela said. “We’re high schoolers now, we have to step up our game.”
“What’s your point?” Kenny asked.
“They haven’t cleaned up that logo yet,” she went on. “You know my mom is a secretary at the hall, and she said it’s going to be taken off tomorrow. They needed to buy a special cleaner, or something, I dunno.”
“And?”
“And there’s spray paint in my garage.”
Roman shifted in his seat. “You don’t think the area will be under surveillance?” he asked. “After this whole ‘new-villain-in-town’ thing?”
“Real heroes and police don’t talk like that,” Rafaela said. “You said yourself, some loser is just doing this for attention, and the media blew it up.”
“I’m in,” Kai said. “It’s like our rite of passage into high school.”
“It’s also sort of like a metaphor,” Kenny pointed out. “We’ve started learning how to wipe out villains, so we remove a symbol of villainy. It’s kind of poetic.”
“Ro-man,” Rafaela crooned. “Are you in?”
“Guys, we have homework,” Roman whispered, leaning across the table. He glanced left and right. The last thing he needed was getting reported to a teacher for this.
“Did running the course with Logan get to your head yesterday?” Rafaela asked, tapping Roman’s skull playfully.
“Okay, fine, whatever,” Roman said, sitting back. He wasn’t fond of Rafaela acting like some kind of group leader. “What exactly are we doing?”
“Leave it to me,” she insisted.
***
“I can’t believe I left this to you,” Roman hissed, wiggling his hips in frustration.
“It’s not my fault your ass is so big,” Rafaela called back. “Doesn’t the window open any further?”
“It’s stuck,” Roman said. “Why couldn’t I just go out the door?”
“Oh sure, real advanced sneaking out technique,” Kai stage-whispered from the ground. “Just waltz out the front door. Are you insane? We’re in high school now.”
“My dad’s not even home, and my mom sleeps like a rock,” Roman insisted. “And it seems awfully convenient for you guys that I’m the only one who lives in a second-floor bedroom.”
“Oh, screw this,” Rafaela muttered. Her arms extended like eery eels under the moonlight and her hands reached out for Roman. “Come on.”
Roman groaned with humiliation as he took her hands. With a forceful flick, she retracted her arms, and Roman somersaulted face-first out the window and fumbled for a grasp on the shingles, skidding to a stop by jamming one foot against the drainpipe.
“Nice! Now jump down so we can get Kenny!” Kai said.
“Sure,” Roman said, keeping his screams internal. He slid onto his stomach and swallowed as he scooted backward and felt air under his feet. “How far am I from the ground?” He’d tried to sound casual, but heard the strain in his voice and tried to clear his throat.
“It’s not that far,” Rafaela said.
“I mean, it’s kinda-” Kai started to say.
Roman dropped. His landing didn’t jolt, but squelched, and he felt himself sink slightly.
“Thought that might be safer,” Kai said as Roman tried to disentangle himself from Kai’s goo.
“Let’s just get out of here,” Roman said, finally scrambling to his feet.
It was only a few blocks to Kenny’s house, but Roman felt like they’d been walking for an hour when he finally said, “One of us needs to hurry up and get a driver’s license so we can stop sneaking out on foot.”
“Oh, come on, you big baby,” Kai said. “Does the class president need a nappy-wappy?”
“It’s after midnight, cut me some slack.”
“Will you two hush?” Rafaela said as Kenny’s house loomed in front of them. Kenny was waiting on the step.
“Did you use the front door?” Roman asked.
“Duh, what else should I have done, climb out the window?”
“Whatever, let’s go.”
Rafaela claimed to know the fastest way to the city hall, and it was useless asking her it slow down; when she got excited, her legs tended to stretch an extra foot in front of her. Kai, the shortest, had to jog every third step to keep up. The only benefit of this was that the fast pace made the trip seem shorter, and it wasn’t long before they were near the center of town. Signs blinked the time lazily, and Roman groaned at the single-digit numbers. The streets were lit, but fairly deserted. It was the middle of the week, and even the pubs and clubs were mostly empty. A gas station and a 24-hour grocery were still bright, but most of the rest of the street was darkened.
“There’s the hall,” Rafaela said. “Let’s go see the logo.”
City hall was dark too, looming slightly in the darkness about a block away. Kai drew a deep breath to Roman’s left.
“You okay?” Roman asked.
“Rafaela is so fast,” he complained, standing with his hands on his knees.
“We’re almost there,” Roman said. “Come on.”
Kai groaned and began speed-walking again, and Roman fell in behind him
Roman felt a buzz on his thigh and fumbled in his pocket for his phone, trying not to slow down. As he glanced down, a passing man bumped into him, and Roman almost dropped the phone.
“Hey!” Roman snapped, turning over his shoulder to glance at the retreating man.
The man looked back. He was wearing a long coat with a hood and high collar, but under the sharp illumination of the streetlamp, Roman thought he recognized a sharp cheekbone and dark eyes. Roman turned around quickly and shuffled up between Kenny and Kai.
“What’s wrong?” Kenny asked.
“Shush,” Roman said. “I think I just saw Mr. Sanders.”
“What?” Kai exclaimed.
“I said shush,” Roman said as Rafaela slowed down to walk next to them.
“You think you saw who?” she said.
“Thomas Sanders,” Roman said. “I think he just bumped into me.”
Rafaela turned her head and scratched her neck, stealing a glance over her shoulder. “Well, if you saw him before, he’s gone now. He must not have recognized you.”
“He looked right at me,” Roman insisted, resisting the urge to look back down the street.
“What would Mr. Sanders be doing wandering the city at night?” Kenny said. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
“You’re probably just nervous,” Rafaela said. Roman bristled. “Fine, fine,” Rafaela said, holding up her hands. “We’ll take the long way around, make sure nobody is behind us.” She yanked Roman’s arm as she turned down an alley, picking up speed again.
“What are we doing?” Kai groaned. “The City Hall is that way.”
“We’ll come from behind.” Rafaela said. “In fact...If we come from this direction, we’ll be right behind the hero’s honor statue. If anybody’s around, we’ll see them before they see us.” She kept one hand tightly grasped around Roman’s bicep, and he found himself being half-dragged as her strides increased with excitement.
“There’s the statue,” Rafaela whispered as they emerged into the square. “Come on.” She was only illuminated by the streetlamp for a moment before ducking into the shadow of the statue, and the boys followed her.
“Let’s get this over with and go home,” Roman hissed.
“Where’s the logo?” Rafaela asked. She stood up and peeked over the brick base of the statue.
“Everything clear?” Roman asked.
“Yeah. Wait…” She paused. “I think there’s somebody across the square.”
“Let me see,” Roman said, shifting into a crouch next to her. She pointed, and Roman stared between the bronze legs of the statue toward the intersection. There was somebody with a high coat collar walking slowly toward the building. Roman grabbed Rafaela and yanked her back to the ground.
“That’s who I saw before,” he hissed urgently. “It’s Mr. Sanders.”
“Lemme see!” Kai said, standing up. He was barely tall enough to look over the base of the statue. “It’s too dark, that could be anybody.”
“I saw him,” Roman insisted. “Why would I make that up?”
“What’s he doing, anyhow?” Rafaela asked. The figure was still in shadow, standing in one place outside the reach of the streetlights. He might have been gazing into the window of a nearby building. “Super creepy.”
“Is he looking at us?” Kenny asked, still sitting.
“I can’t tell,” Rafaela said.
“Should we go?” Kai slunk below the edge of statue again.
“I didn’t climb out that stupid window for nothing,” Roman said. Class president, he reminded himself. “Let’s just wait and see what happens.”
The only sound was the distant buzz of traffic, the occasional rattle of a train, and a faint hum from the nearest streetlamp as the four students crouched behind the statue. The man across the street seemed to gather his bearings and began moving toward the city hall.
“He saw us,” Kai whispered fearfully.
“Shush. He might just be looking at the logo,” Rafaela said. The logo was still hidden from their view by the steps to the hall. The man approached the place and stood staring down. Roman wasn’t sure if he imagined the familiarity of the man’s shoulders, his gait. The hum of the streetlamp seemed to grow louder in Roman’s ears.
“I expected you to be here.”
Rafaela stifled Kai’s gasp with one hand, pulling the smaller student against her. Kenny and Roman shared a fearful glance. They all knew that voice.
“I’ve been waiting for you to show up,” a second voice said. Roman and Rafaela squabbled for a look, frantically silent. A figure had appeared on the city hall steps, either emerged from the building or dropped from the roof, but it seemed as if he might have emerged from the shadows themselves. Rafaela gripped Roman’s arm so tightly he felt her nails dig into his skin.
Roman had to struggle to understand the next words over the roaring in his ears.
“It’s good to see you again, Falcon,” the first man said.
“I fear you may have the upper hand, my friend,” the Flying Falcon said. “You know who I am, and I’m afraid we haven’t met.”
The figure straightened up for the first time, revealing the face Roman had printed on his brain. Rafaela stared at him in astonishment.
“Multi-Man?” the Flying Falcon said. “There must be some mistake.”
“No mistake, old friend,” Mr. Sanders said. The voice that was usually so warm echoed cold off the stone steps. “There’s a new era coming to the city. This is only the first sign. Forgive the publicity stunt, I needed you to be here.”
“And why is that?”
“Roman,” Rafaela whispered. “Roman, let’s go.”
“To make the second sign,” Mr. Sanders said. “By defeating one of the most iconic heroes of our era.”
“Roman, come on,” Kai insisted, tugging on Roman’s shirt.
The Flying Falcon took a step back, and Roman felt his throat grow cold — he couldn’t swallow. “I don’t want to fight you, Multi-Man,” Falcon said. “Let’s talk about this, you’re not well.”
“You’d like to think so, wouldn’t you?” Mr. Sanders said. “Don’t tell me you’re too soft to fight, Falcon.”
The Flying Falcon straightened. “I notified the police when you approached city hall. They’ll be here any minute.”
“You’ll have to keep me there until then,” Mr. Sanders said. His hands balled into fists at his sides, and Roman felt his stomach tighten as, with a sudden transition, two Mr. Sanders stood in front of city hall. This was the power that had felled villains, saved cities, prevented disasters.
And now his father was facing it.
“Roman, we have to get out of here,” Rafaela said. “The police are coming.” Kai and Kenny were already dashing for the alley.
The first Mr. Sanders split a second time, and the copies rushed toward the Flying Falcon, who assumed a fighting stance. In a flurry of blows, he felled both copies, who disintegrated as they hit the ground.
There were police sirens in the distance. Rafaela let go of Roman’s arm and sprinted for the alley.
More copies appeared and rushed up the steps, and the Falcon was able to use the height to his advantage, striking downward to take out the copies. However, as they increased in number, the hero began backing up the steps, unable to defend on three sides. His breath was coming quickly, and Roman could see him tiring. He swung his leg around in one huge kick to drive the copies back, and jumped up two more steps, crouching. With one leap, he moved to take flight. He was suspended for one moment in the moonlight, and Roman’s heart jumped.
One of the copies reached up and just managed to grasp the Falcon’s ankle. Thrown off balance, the Falcon’s momentum carried him forward and down into the tide of copies, of which there were now over a dozen. He vanished under them.
Roman’s hand flew up in a motion that was automatic. Something swelled inside him, and he felt his body grow hot. A tremor ran from his shoulder to his hand, and a blinding light shot through the legs of the statue, and into Multi-Man’s face.
Mr. Sanders cried out, raising his hands to his eyes, and as he stumbled backward, the copies melted into the air. The Flying Falcon was illuminated on the steps for an instant before the light also dissipated. A police car screamed around the corner, followed by two more.
Roman felt paralyzed, as if all the heat had streamed out of his body with the light and left him frozen.
Mr. Sanders was still recovering from the light, but heard the sirens and sprinted for the opposite intersection. Officers were streaming from the vehicles, and the first of them paused to reach for the Falcon.
“Don’t worry about me.” The hero’s voice was so quiet Roman could barely hear him. “He went that way, you have to stop him.”
More officers were following, but the dark figure was already out of sight. They were asking questions, shining lights, dashing around. One car drove in the direction of the fleeing man.
None of them noticed a teenager fleeing the scene.
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