December 24, 1998 – Atlanta, Georgia
(MC Point of View)
[--marking the 90th anniversary of ‘Emergence Day’ today. On Christmas Eve, 1908, loyalists to the old Ottoman regime attempted to storm the capital by force. However, the loyalists were defeated by Karanlık, the first recorded Mutant in history. Karanlik, named after the Turkish word for ‘Darkness’, used his shadow powers to halt the loyalists in their path, allowing security forces to take them into custody. Afterwards--]
I tuned out the history lesson as I continued walking down the sidewalk. Who wanted to hear about the damn freaks, anyways? It wasn’t natural, being able to read men’s minds or walk through walls or any of the crap those mutants were able to do. It wasn’t RIGHT! Used to be, there were only a few of them, but the freaks breed, and they’d been slowly increasing in population, to the point where they now counted almost 20% of the population in ‘civilized’ areas.
These days, you couldn’t go a day without seeing something about the latest super-battle. My classmate Carl got caught up in the fighting between Mister Devious and Lady Justice. Got a face full of plasma when that ‘heroine’ bitch was trying to fry Devious, and he dodged. He escaped, my buddy got a nice crispy hole in what used to be his head, and all his parents got was a fucking ‘I’m so sorry,’ card. That’s what they don’t want you to think about when they talk about supers, though. All those missed shots go somewhere, just like when cops start shooting. But cops at least can get hauled in front of the courts if they shoot a kid in the face accidentally. Supers? Hah! Name three superheroes who have ‘come out’ with their true identity while they were still ‘active’. That’s right, you can’t, because the only two who tried got slapped with lawsuits and criminal charges for reckless endangerment.
So, yeah, I might have ‘issues’ with the so-called supers. Damn freaks. Only good thing about school is I don’t have to put up with that crap there. Yeah, school, mister voice-in-my-head-narrator. I’m fifteen, and in the eighth grade. But since I’m doing this, I might as well go all the way, right? Name’s Mirikon. Mirikon Mollen. Yeah, stupid name, but that’s what happens when your parents decide to name you after their D&D characters. Just lucky I was a guy. My mom’s character was named Shallinareth.
As for why I’m walking in the rain on Christmas Eve (no, I will NOT call it Emergence Day!)? Shopping. Last minute gift shopping for the family. Well, stocking stuffers, really. As if the Freak Patrol wasn’t enough, dealing with holiday crowds was enough to get on anyone’s nerves. We lived out in DeKalb, over in the Decatur neighborhood. Pretty area, but not much in the way of gift shopping, really. But MARTA is your friend, especially if your main means of transportation is your own two feet. Riding the train into town to get to the Lenox Square Mall was simple enough.
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I’m no weight lifter, but I’ve always been built like a defensive lineman, which is where I play come football season. That, combined with the fact that I don’t go out of my way to start shit, means my parents are fine with me riding the train, at least during the day, and in the ‘nicer’ parts of town. The Freak Patrol (ok, that’s not the local super-team’s name, but see if I care) being based Downtown not far from Five Points doesn’t hurt, either, at least in their opinion. Anyways, that means I’m doing my little holiday jaunt on my own. Which is better, really, since going in groups through this madhouse is fucking crazy.
Where was I? Oh yeah, shopping. Like the fucking Battle of Helms Deep in the mall, and I’m pretty sure I leveled up a couple times with the body count. No, not really. What do you think this is, some fanfic where game windows pop up in front of you all the time?
Well, kindof, yeah.
SHUT UP IMAGINARY GAME WINDOW! Ok, so I’m not really crazy, but I like games and stories, and I come by my geek cred honestly (yes, a jock and a geek). So I sometimes ramble in my internal monologue. Keeps life a bit more interesting. When people aren’t trying to make my life miserable, at least.
“GODDAMNIT! LOOK WHERE THE FUCK YOU’RE GOING, ASSHOLE!”
Sorry, bastard knocked me into a fragging gutter full of nasty ass water. Didn’t look all that big, but felt like it. Probably one of those freaks with really dense bones, or something. I mutter a few more choice curses (including some in Wonderlandian) as I push off the ice and get back to my feet.
Wait, ice? How the hell that get there?
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Author's Note:
Since I'm *totally* an author now I thought I'd throw one of these up. Thanks for reading, and let me know what you think. You have constructive criticism? I'm all for it. After all, there's only a small chance I'll get better if I don't know what I'm doing wrong.
The rambling, stream of consciousness style is likely not going to be the norm for this story, but I think it works well in these areas where you're trying to get a character's gut reaction to things, and set the tone of the character, at least at the beginning. Ferris Bueller's Day Off wouldn't have been nearly the same if it started off with a third person narrator instead of the character breaking the fourth wall, after all.