Green.
Raindrops sprinkled around the area, coating the ground with a slight dampness. The bottom of Jack’s converse held enough resistance so no worry of slipping passed his mind, he continued reading a book— well not reading, more skimming through the pages. Green eyes found the watch that lay on his wrist,
2:09.
A groan was already leaving his lips. Be careful, it’s dangerous to walk when it’s dark. His mother’s words rang in his head, a daily ritual when he first started his nightly strolls. But after the first couple of nights she had stopped pestering, any worry for her son won over by her nightly shows, coming home to put his mother into her bed was more the ritual anyway.
It was getting late and Jack needed to get some sleep for his shift at Coffeehouse Mayhem, its slow morning less than any mayhem he's ever witnessed but he kept his stroll— his energy was through the roof and he wanted some practice. Fighting criminals in the middle of night tended to solve both problems and using his powers in combat seemed to scratch that itch that always grew every day. Once he put a single toe in the water and he couldn’t help but want to jump in– it was more of a cannonball but he was never good at metaphors.
Since he was young, Jack’s connection with metal started out as a fascination; a yearning for understanding that only grew when he realized he could manipulate it! It's hard surface pushed and pulled to what he needed, at least on his “good days”. At the ripe age of 10 when he had been shoved into his locker by a loud guy who simply didn’t understand that he wasn't the only person walking in that hall- instead of the pain that welcomed him in the hard slam, the steel warped around him, the boys yelling muted as he realized that should have hurt more than it did. Luckily the punch given to his face next humbled him, he was not superman, still a boy getting beat up against a locker- a locker that did not dig into his back from the relaying punches. Perhaps a metalman? Creativity was not his strongest suit.
Finding places to practice while he was in high school was harder than he thought, so he shelved it away and let puberty take the reins. Along with other priorities, like working a job and trying to move out of his mother’s house.
His fingers ran through his green and wavy locks, the color an odd choice in terms that no metal he had ever encountered held the color that displayed on his features. Although despite the odd color it wasn’t something that people noticed, or at least brought to his attention. Strangeness seemed to always be clouded around people, the unnatural something that everyone chooses to ignore, willingly or not.
His gaze shifted towards an alleyway, the pages of the book skimming his fingers— its context is a favorite of his, a science fiction thriller involving animals with robot inhibitors.
A bright light shined in his irises, the light fading after a second with a thump down the alleyway. All body movement halted and all he could do was stare; stare at a hooded individual whose punches, accented with sparky flames took down a gasping man. The man’s knife skidded on the ground as he fell with a hard smash, a roundhouse kick from the other sliding him to the corner. Jack’s face scrunched at the sound, that definitely hurt. Green eyes shifted to the other man, as he stood quivering with fear, his knife falling out of his grasp. That didn’t discourage the masked individual, as they grabbed the front of their shirt. A crunch echoed around, and the body fell to the ground, unmoving.
Jack continued his staring, what else was one to do with such an act of violence right beofre them? Maybe some popcorn would’ve been nice. His grassy eyes scanned over the two bodies— silence following in their wake, and he made it back up to the fire user. They were sprinting towards him, a reminisce of smoke emoting from their body.
“Holy shit.” The situation became extremely apparent to him, all he could register was red eyes, fixed to kill.
He was ducking out of the way from an inflamed punch, sliding underneath them, his shoes screeching from the sudden slide. He could see how his body took deep gulping breaths, not even a glance up was enough to prepare him for the impact of huge shoes imprinting itself on his chest. Getting thrown across on the floor was better from an outside perspective, and despite the pain he scrambled to get up.
“Wait!”
They dashed towards him, the moonlight shining over heavy looking platforms that matched the bruise throbbing in his chest— a stray thought of his kept clean pair in his closet, his hands still rose up as another swing was directed towards his face. Their movements a breath away, they were fast; no one was as fast as Jack. “Please—” he slammed to his knees, which was going to hurt later, as the famed shoes attempted to lodge themselves in his chest again. As he carved his back, looking underneath dark joggers flying above him– a light gleamed in his eye. A metal rod sticking out the wall and he shot out his hand, every part of himself calling towards the object.
It melded itself right into his palm, and he swung it up— putting every ounce of strength knocking the person up, and they flew echoed by a loud thump as their body slammed into the ground.
“JUST.” He willed every ounce of willpower in the metal, bending it towards their body— wrapping around their arms and torso, locking them in place. “Please.” He gasped as a sweat slid down his face. “I just want to talk.”
Silence surrounded the pair and he was looking into what could be seen through their mask, red dark eyes, which burned right through Jack’s skull.
He needed to come up with something to say that wouldn’t get him assaulted by the flames he knew the other held. And the heat that radiated off them, like a fireplace on a cold day— but today was no winter paradise.
“There's more.” he licked his dry lips, “more than just drug cartels; than small-time thieves.” the others glare didn’t soften at all.
A sigh left him. Nothing he could say would work, this was pointless.
“I can’t do this alone.” His fingers flexed, the metal on the other creaking in the process. He looked back up at the nodded eyes, hoping—pleading his eyes told enough. “Please, just let me show you.”
The slight moment that enveloped the air, and a small groan flew from the other.
“God, if I say yes can you cut the monologuing?” The metal creaked more, and he let his fingers pry the drain off the other.
They murmured while rubbing their wrist, “god thought that’ll never end.” They let out a small tst.
“So,” the sides of their jackets smacked their pants, scattered with different pockets that clicked together when hitting them.
“You gonna explain everything now?” Jack was quick to scramble away, moving out the alleyway, “No!” He coughed into his sleeve, it's dark star pattern meeting his mouth.
“My place is close! If you,” his fingers clenched for a moment, as his own request startled him. The reality of meeting this fire user not even 5 minutes ago, slapping him in the face. “I mean? uh- only if you want.”
“Fuck it. If you try anything I'm frying your face,” they walked past him, strong waves of heat radiating off as they passed by. And they stopped right in front of him, pointing an inflamed finger before his green eyes “right down your skull, got it?” The light shone the pure blood red irises of the other, a pale face covered by dark fabric. And the sides of their hidden hair, urban red, mirroring similar shaded eyes.
Jack’s green hair went up with his expression, and he was nodding along as they walked by. A gleeful expression filling his face, a smile that could blind the gods on his face.
He hurried up next to them, converse falling into step beside platform docs.
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