Archived Post
09-03-2009, 03:44 PM
John was the one who found his twin brother's body. It was early in the afternoon and he had been planning to go over that evenings game plan with Darrel. John and Darrel Hawkins were exceptional people and together they felt that they could accomplish anything.
It was their minds that made them exceptional, John had been born with the ability of Telekinesis, he could move things with his mind and even form weapons of pure energy. Darrel on the other hand, had been born with no innate powers of his own, but what he was born with was genius, he had been in the process of creating a powered suit of armor so that he could accompany John on his adventures when he was murdered.
The day John found his brother's body was to be their first test of Darrel's suit. He hadn't implemented all of the offensive capabilities he had designed, but he claimed that when he was finished it would rival Defender's own suit. John had his doubts about that, but he knew the suit was more than capable of protecting his brother from just about anything that was thrown at it, as well as dishing out some pretty decent punishment.
For six months there had been no progress in the investigation of his brother's murder and John's depression was a weight that he wasn't sure he could bear. We were going to be Nova and Shift, crime fighters, he would think...and then he would start to weep.
It was around then that his father, burdened by his own grief, came to John's apartment, more angry than sad when he showed up.
"Get off your ass, boy." he said, glaring down at his surving son as he tossed a large duffel bag at john's feet. It clanked as it landed heavily, it looked too heavy for his father to carry as easily as he did.
John just stared at it, then at his father, a blank look on his face. "What?" he managed to get out before his father's next outburst.
"I said get off your lazy ass!" His father was leaning over him now, staring straight into his eyes. The fire there was damped by grief, but blazed no less brightly for it. "My son, your brother, was murdered! The police can't make heads nor tails of it. But I know you can. I know you can find who killed my son and make them pay for it!"
John just stared at him in confusion. "But, dad, I can't do anything about it. What are a couple shiny swords and some box throwing going to accomplish? I took down purse snatchers and saved cats from trees."
His father slapped him then. It was the first time since he was a child that his father had done that. Then he unzipped the duffel and dumped it's contents on the floor. It was his brother's suit in all it's mechanized glory. John simply stared at it, the waves of emotion hitting him like tides.
"Put it on," his father said simply.
"But, it wasn't made for me...it.."
"It was made for someone exactly like you. Darrel was you physically, if not mentally. Put it on."
So John, fighting down waves of nausea and grief, strapped on the suit. As his father said, it fit him like it was made for him. The visual sensors analyzing everything in the room in an instant, read outs started flowing passed his eyes faster than he could read. He suspected his brother would have had no trouble following the flow of data. It even measured his father's heart rate right before his eyes.
Off to one side of the visual HUD was a weapons read out, there were only two installed, an energy building stream and energy release. From what John could tell it released a good portion of the stored energy of the suit all at one time. He imagined that could hurt if you weren't inside the suit.
It was while he was still getting his grips on the mechanics of the suit that his father shot him in the chest. He blinked. But that was about it, it felt like someone had poked him in the chest, not like a .38 cal bullet at point blank range. He noticed a read out reporting that another stack of defensive energy had been added in response to the "attack".
"A little more protection from the purse snatchers eh son?" His father had a little smirk on his face.
"Yeah, I think so." But John was distracted. He was seeing the possibilities now. With his powers and his brothers suit there was so much he could do. He could track down his brothers killer, or killers now. He could make them pay. And he could fulfill his brothers dream as well, to help the heroes clean up the town. His mind was reeling from it all.
"It's time, Nova." His father said, calling him by his chosen hero name. It was odd hearing that from his father. He had made fun of them when they had told them of their plan, but now his father said it with a hopeful note in his voice. But it wasn't right, didn't sound right.
"No," he said, "not Nova, not anymore." He looked into his fathers eyes again. "Call me Novashift."
It was their minds that made them exceptional, John had been born with the ability of Telekinesis, he could move things with his mind and even form weapons of pure energy. Darrel on the other hand, had been born with no innate powers of his own, but what he was born with was genius, he had been in the process of creating a powered suit of armor so that he could accompany John on his adventures when he was murdered.
The day John found his brother's body was to be their first test of Darrel's suit. He hadn't implemented all of the offensive capabilities he had designed, but he claimed that when he was finished it would rival Defender's own suit. John had his doubts about that, but he knew the suit was more than capable of protecting his brother from just about anything that was thrown at it, as well as dishing out some pretty decent punishment.
For six months there had been no progress in the investigation of his brother's murder and John's depression was a weight that he wasn't sure he could bear. We were going to be Nova and Shift, crime fighters, he would think...and then he would start to weep.
It was around then that his father, burdened by his own grief, came to John's apartment, more angry than sad when he showed up.
"Get off your ass, boy." he said, glaring down at his surving son as he tossed a large duffel bag at john's feet. It clanked as it landed heavily, it looked too heavy for his father to carry as easily as he did.
John just stared at it, then at his father, a blank look on his face. "What?" he managed to get out before his father's next outburst.
"I said get off your lazy ass!" His father was leaning over him now, staring straight into his eyes. The fire there was damped by grief, but blazed no less brightly for it. "My son, your brother, was murdered! The police can't make heads nor tails of it. But I know you can. I know you can find who killed my son and make them pay for it!"
John just stared at him in confusion. "But, dad, I can't do anything about it. What are a couple shiny swords and some box throwing going to accomplish? I took down purse snatchers and saved cats from trees."
His father slapped him then. It was the first time since he was a child that his father had done that. Then he unzipped the duffel and dumped it's contents on the floor. It was his brother's suit in all it's mechanized glory. John simply stared at it, the waves of emotion hitting him like tides.
"Put it on," his father said simply.
"But, it wasn't made for me...it.."
"It was made for someone exactly like you. Darrel was you physically, if not mentally. Put it on."
So John, fighting down waves of nausea and grief, strapped on the suit. As his father said, it fit him like it was made for him. The visual sensors analyzing everything in the room in an instant, read outs started flowing passed his eyes faster than he could read. He suspected his brother would have had no trouble following the flow of data. It even measured his father's heart rate right before his eyes.
Off to one side of the visual HUD was a weapons read out, there were only two installed, an energy building stream and energy release. From what John could tell it released a good portion of the stored energy of the suit all at one time. He imagined that could hurt if you weren't inside the suit.
It was while he was still getting his grips on the mechanics of the suit that his father shot him in the chest. He blinked. But that was about it, it felt like someone had poked him in the chest, not like a .38 cal bullet at point blank range. He noticed a read out reporting that another stack of defensive energy had been added in response to the "attack".
"A little more protection from the purse snatchers eh son?" His father had a little smirk on his face.
"Yeah, I think so." But John was distracted. He was seeing the possibilities now. With his powers and his brothers suit there was so much he could do. He could track down his brothers killer, or killers now. He could make them pay. And he could fulfill his brothers dream as well, to help the heroes clean up the town. His mind was reeling from it all.
"It's time, Nova." His father said, calling him by his chosen hero name. It was odd hearing that from his father. He had made fun of them when they had told them of their plan, but now his father said it with a hopeful note in his voice. But it wasn't right, didn't sound right.
"No," he said, "not Nova, not anymore." He looked into his fathers eyes again. "Call me Novashift."