The Argo Academy (DC AU, IC)

Camleen

I'm going to be my own kind of princess
Original poster
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. One post per day
  2. 1-3 posts per week
  3. One post per week
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
Genres
In no particular order: Fantasy, Sci-Fi, Modern, Magical, Romance, anime, comic books, cartoons, video games..
Welcome to The Argo Academy
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“-well never a dull moment in Metropolis!” There is some (fake) laughter from the other 3 seated at the round table, a large mural of the grand city of Metropolis along the back of the television set. The camera now focuses on one of the two women sitting at the table. “There certainly isn’t, Manuel. But we never have a thing to fear, the Justice League always seems to be there when we need them. This was the scene last night-” The scene shifts to video of Superman, Wonder Woman and Green Lantern fighting a small group of what can only be described as some kind of mutated lobsters “where a man calling himself simply ‘Villain Person’ lead an attack on Metropolis with giant lobsters. Yes, you heard me folks. Giant lobsters, lead by Villain Person. City hall was damaged, but the good timing of the Justice League once more saved us from the insanity of someone with to much time on their hands.” Once more there is (fake) laughter, and then she continues. “And now we go to Rick Goddard for this week’s weather! Make it good for us Rick!”

The world as a whole had taken their heroes for granted. For decades most of the people on the planet had grown accustomed to their world not ending on a particular Tuesday because somehow the ‘capes’ would be there to save them. To constantly pull their fat from the fryer. While many were wholly appreciative of the sacrifices made by heroes for the good of humanity, it soon became commonplace.

The Justice Society of America
The Seven Soldiers of Victory (also known as Law’s Legionnaires)
The Justice League
The Titans
Green Lantern Corps
Doom Patrol
Challengers of the Unknown
Young Justice
Household names that had become as common as the names of baseball or football teams. The future was a hopeful one for our little marble in the sky. Until it all ended.

January 9, 1998 at 10:15 AM (EST)
In an unprecedented circumstance, nearly every single media outlet in the world focuses on the same story. Or something related to said story. Whether it’s reporting the facts of this morning, their opinion on what happened, or how this is all a conspiracy by the Illuminati (there’s always those people out there)…

“Welcome to our viewers in Metropolis and all around the world! This is Jake… Tetran… I’m getting word from our producer now. Just hold there with me, folks.” The newscaster looks towards someone offscreen, silently asking ‘is this for real?’. “Okay… confirmed now reports from the Daily Planet.. Superman has been rushed to Ellsworth Memorial Hospital with a possible fractured arm and head injuries! Reports are he fell right out of the sky onto the Daily Planet building…”

“... was in the middle of stopping a police chase in Central City when he just… stopped. Famed Justice League founding member Green Lantern can not activate his powers, reports say.”

“...Happening all over the world now! We don’t know if this is temporary, and the Justice League press agent stated only they were investigating. Again, the members of the Justice League seem to be… well depowered is the only word I can come up with!”

“The heroine known as ‘Cyclone’ is at Harvard University right now after saving a distraught student from harming himself. During the press briefing, while putting on an impressive display of her powers, she suddenly found herself on the ground and exclaiming… quote.. ‘The winds are gone now, I can’t hear the winds.’... unqoute.”

“The criminal Louise Lincoln, AKA Killer Frost, was apprehended this morning when she attempted to rob the Gotham Diamond Exchange. Reports at the scene say she had frozen several officers when her powers seemed to suddenly stop working, and officers used the distraction to inflict a nonfatal wound to apprehend her without further incident.”


January 9, 1998 at 11:31 AM (EST)
“Just please hang on. We’re trying to get word now.. no signals of any sort are coming out of the Las Vegas area of Nevada. We don’t know what this means yet. We do… yes we do have a communication line with… Sergeant Lana Bibi of the Army’s 29th special reconnaise division… Sergeant welcome, and thank you for your service. What can you tell us?”
There is silence on the line, and the reporter looks offscreen, silently asking if she was still there. “Um.. Sergeant? We seem to be having some trouble with the lines again. Should w--” “I’m here.” Her voice is shaken, as if barely holding herself together. Lana Bibi has seen horrific things in her stellar career in the Army. She has surpassed everyone’s expectations, and then some. She has seen the terror war can bring, she has seen children slaughtered in front of her. She has been held captive and tortured. But nothing could prepare her for today. “I’m… I’m here..” The news anchor pauses, taking off his glasses as he waits. After a few moments of silence. “Sergeant, can you tell us what has happened there in Nevada.” One could count to 20 before the Sergeant responds. “What they said was true.. I never thought..” Another pause, and the news anchor glances offscreen. Some of those behind the camera now reacting to images coming in. He speaks softly, as if trying to be comforting. “I know this must be more difficult than any of us can imagine, Sergeant. We have some images now…” the screen goes from the news anchor to a black and white image, obviously taken by a satellite. It shows… a crater. And that’s it, against the barren desert landscape. “The whole.. city of Las Vegas…” the Sergeant finally gets out


“It’s no more…”


January 9, 1998 at 10:01 PM (EST)
“...nd for those just joining us tonight.. I’m Jake Tetran. Some are calling these past 12 hour the darkest day our civilization has ever seen. Let’s recap.. around 10 AM local time here on the East Coast, reports started coming of none other than Superman being rushed to Ellsworth Memorial. His condition has been stabilized, and we are awaiting a press conference for an update soon. Reports are that Superman suddenly just fell while flying over Metropolis’ Central Avenue. His powers seem to be just.. gone. And the same sort of reporting is coming in from all over the world. Meta-beings of every type, regardless of species, has had their powers robbed from them. The FBI has began an investigation, a source close to the situation say they have nothing yet. Falls Communication, the public relations firm for the Justice League, released a statement. They say, in part, ‘We are looking into the events of this day, and assure the public there is no immediate danger’.
The events of today were made horrifically worse with news Las Vegas had been attacked by a nuclear strike. Our senior military analysts insist there is no country capable of such a strike right now, no country has the technology for it. It has brought up speculation that this was a domestic attack, much like those of the Oklahoma City bombing not so long ago. No organization has taken responsibility yet. North Korea and Russia both released statements almost immediately, condemning the act and offering aid. This is, by far, the most heinous, deadliest attack on United States soil. The estimates of those missing or deceased number close to 900,000. The federal and state government have set up a restricted zone 50 miles around what we presume is ground zero, Las Vegas. Radiation fallout warnings and emergency protocols have been issued on the whole of the the western United States. Now let’s go to our expert panel and sort through some of this mess..”


January 12, 1998 at 8:14 PM (EST)
“Welcome back. We’re once again speaking with CEO and founder of LexCorp, Mr. Lex Luthor.” It’s Lex Luthor alright, the one and only. Sitting across from the night’s host, Chad Jagger. Lex is dressed immacutely, looking every bit the billions he is estimated to be worth. And he seems in a chipper mood. “Why thank you, Chad. It’s my great pleasure to be here.” The host doesn’t seem as jolly tonight. “So what’s the big announcement? Are you denying that you took away the power of ev-” He is cut off as Lex holds up his hand, a small.. odd.. smile on his lips. “I didn’t take anyone’s powers away, Chad. I know that’s not exactly my modus operandi. I can tell you.. in all honesty..” He now looks right into the camera, which zooms in a little on him. “I did not take anyone’s powers away. I don’t have that kind of tech. Nor am I inclined in savage magic.” Anyone watching, even body language experts, are looking for some flaw. But… Lex is absolutely telling the truth. “No, Chad. I came here tonight to offer my genuine aid to all of those stricken. I am opening a chain of help centers across the planet. My engineers have already started laying the ground work. They will be called ‘Arcadia Havens’. Anyone that wants it, will have access to world class medical care. Counseling, physical therapy… whatever we can do to help. Yes, a small fee will be incurred. But my lawyers are ensuring that fee will be covered by most insurances.” Chad shakes his head. “Why?” Lex’s brow perks up, and he looks towards the host as he continues. “All these years you’ve been a public menace. You’ve been arrested numerous times, you’ve fought Superman for goodness sake. So why help them now?” Lex just smiles a little, letting out a gentle sigh as he folds his hands on the tabletop. His voice has a sincere cadence to it. “I have a number of centers open to former troops of our armed services. Those men and women deserve our eternal respect and thanks for all they have done to defend the freedom of this country, every single soldier. I see the heroes in the same light. For all they’ve done, for all they’ve sacrificed… shouldn’t we want to give just as much back to them?”


January 9, 2004. 10:15 AM (EST)
"It was 10 year ago today that our planet suffered crippling losses. Every single known superhuman… suddenly weren’t. All were robbed of their fantastic abilities. No one knows how this happened, or why, or who is responsible. We may never know. It was on this day also that the lives of approximately 711,587 people lost their lives when Las Vegas erupted in a nuclear explosion. An explosion caused by a superhuman losing his powers. LexCorp opened Arcadia Havens, both to help those without powers and those devastated by the Las Vegas tragedy. We also, in the years since, lost a number of former metahumans.
Firetorm… Raven… Green Lantern, 3 of them… Powergirl… Poison Ivy…
Justice League founding members have, some say, gone into hiding. Superman hasn’t been heard from in years. The Flash has removed himself totally from public spotlight.
Then President of the United States.. President Andrew Wilson… and his vice president… Alicia Deimos… the President’s daughter Aubrey… were murdered on live media by the Joker, who also has gone into hiding and remains public enemy number one in most countries on the face of God’s green Earth.



January 28, 2010. 10:34 AM (EST)
“It seems 3 of the biggest corporations in history are banding together to… get this… open a school. Yes, you heard me right. Wayne Enterprises, Palmer Technologies and Queen Industries have put in a final bid for land in New Jersey, of all places. Why not include LexCorp? Well Lex himself is busy gearing up for a possible political run. And most of his business has gone to Arcadia Havens, which as you all know support former superhumans. Or maybe those 3 were just afraid of being outshined by Mr. Luthor. He’s spent more time helping metahumans than anyone else, ever. Lex is, and will do more, for his fellow man than those billionaires living in their gold plated mansions!”


November 18, 2016. 11:50 PM (EST)
“--inal tallies are coming in now. But this all seems kind of pointless, huh. Metropolis Warner 5 would like to officially pronounce Lex Luthor as the 46th President of the United States of America!”

==============================

“Welcome, Mr. Wayne.” The General Manager greets Bruce Wayne upon his entrance into the central foyer of BF-Kane, the latest banking institute to be established in downtown Gotham City. The manager is barely in his 30’s, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in his high-priced suit and designer glasses. By Bruce’s estimation from his handshake, this is the kind of guy who bends before you even threaten to drop him from the second story of a building. He smiles and shakes his hand all the same

“Pleasure to be here.” He replies and puts a hand on the shoulder of the fourteen-year-old boy at his side. “My son, Terry.” Both are dressed for business. Bruce walks with a cane these days to help him move along in a stilted gait. Bad knees from a hard life.

“Hello, sir.” Terry greets politely without smiling in a practiced business manner.

“Ah, the de facto King of Gotham, and the de facto Prince.” The manager throws on the first layer of flattery before gesturing for the pair to follow. The security officers don’t move an inch to stop them from bypassing the metal detectors before getting into the bank proper. They’d been told it wouldn’t be necessary with Bruce Wayne to screen for weapons. He was the last man to make trouble, his son included.

And they were right. Bruce and Terry were here on a strictly recon mission. His time as Batman has been done for years, but Bruce had pressed that it would make more sense for himself and Terry to visit this new bank than trying to swing a story as to why his former ward had his son along for a visit on Bruce’s behalf.

While the bank manager explains how the bank was designed as a ‘stylish pragmatic paradise’ by a premier firm, his eyes are on Bruce the whole time. And Bruce feigns interest all the while to keep his eyes away from Terry. The boy plays his part: The teenager who would rather be somewhere else than here, fidgeting with his hands and looking around for anything more interesting than what’s being pointed out. The manager talks up how they employ “Young and bright new minds to better serve the future.” but for obvious reasons doesn’t go into how they all look so pliable even to Terry’s eyes. Pliable equals trouble, from what he’s been told by his mentor and his father. They’re not ‘bad’ or ‘evil’ people per say. They can just be bent to the plans of people who are.

Hence why they were here. The manager talks about how they employ Muro de Hierro, a private security agency that is discrete but effective. The men at the front in the uniforms were mainly for show. The rest of the security were in disguise as customers and regular employees, ready to act should danger occur. He clarifies “Only to detain of course, we still have the mandatory silent alarm to the GCPD.”

“Of course.” Bruce responds “I’m sure they’ll appreciate the situation being handled and documented by the time they arrive.”

“Oh yes yes, and we have the facility wired for video and sound at key points.”

While Bruce takes up the manager's attention, Terry subtly flicks his fingers at the floor. Each flick sends out a nanobug that lands and skitters away as any real bug would. They would attach themselves to the surveillance equipment, and feed it to them on an undetectable, untraceable ghost frequency. It was their means of keeping tabs on this bank and its possible connection to a criminal organization fronted by their security agency.

"And here are our vaults.” The manager says upon arriving at a chamber with four large vault doors. Terry stops planting the nanobugs here as they should have more than needed. “They each can only be unlocked with a retinal and fingerprint scan from a staff member selected on a rotating basis. Prevents any idiot who decides to try and rob us from getting any more of our client’s money without extremely extensive planning.” He chuckles “No daytime spur-of-the-moment robberies will so much as reach these vaults.”

While the manager has been giving the tour a van has been making its way to the street in front of the building. It belonged to Hardy’s Steamers, an apartment cleaning company that was now down one van and its crew. It parks in front of the building, and three masked and armed men exit through the back

They rush the doors shoving people aside as they go. The guards in the front raise their guns, but drop at the crackling of gunfire. People duck, run, and scream as one of the men yell “This is a good old-fashioned stick-up! Empty your wallets, purses, and registers!” as they aim their sub-machine guns and brandish their knives. People do as told and drop their valuables to the floor.

The manager acts quick upon hearing the gunfire. To the surprise of both, he doesn't buckle to fear. He instead uses his print and scan to open the nearest vault and ushers both Waynes inside. “No worries, we have this under control, but for your safety best you sit tight in here.” He says.

Bruce and Terry comply without complaint, looking at the manager surprised when he doesn't get in with them. Instead he closes it soon as they are in. He calmly reaches into an inner pocket, takes out what appears to be a tiny bottle of nasal spray and uses it as one would. He grunts, shakes his head, and the veins on his neck bulge the second before the rest of his body does as well. He places the bottle back in his pocket and power walks away towards the front.

Inside the vault Bruce and Terry look around at the safe deposit boxes lining the other walls, and sit down at the table in the middle. Terry checks his phone, nods “We're clear Dad. Only surveillance is a camera just outside the vault.”

“Let's see what's going on.” Bruce says setting his cane on the table and leaning over to look at his phone. Terry accesses the feed provided by their nanobug, tapping the feed for the front area camera. Bruce utters a “Hmm” and then “Jokerz. Young, impulsive.”

“I could take 'em” Terry says very confidently, smiling.

“You could.” Bruce affirms but doesn't smile. They watch the Jokerz start to collect their supposed earnings, only to be rushed by three men. One of them was the manager, the others appear to be regular citizens. But their speed, the way they disarm, are clearly trained movements. Fast and brutal. Arms get broken, and all three are pinned in seconds. Bruce narrows his eyes.

“They're on Venom. Those are Bane's men.” He says and lets out a sigh. “Getting old isn't stopping him either.”

“Maybe they set this up? To show off?” Terry suggests.

Bruce shakes his head lightly “Bane wouldn't work with them even if The Joker himself was running their circus. In fact he'd be less inclined.”

“So this is just a trio of idiots.” Terry dismisses them as he watches the three get cuffed by the GCPD.

“One trio of many.” Bruce leans away from Terry and picks up his cane as he knows the manager would be coming to retrieve them soon as the Venom wore off. “We can be grateful they're just that, a gang.”

Terry pockets his phone “Yeah. They're only kinda dangerous and more annoying. From the stories Mom tells me, I'd hate to see what they would do with the main clown himself at the wheel.”

“I hope you never have to see one like him. Much less the real thing” Bruce says solemnly looking aside at his son. “We've been preparing you for many things. We couldn't prepare you for him even if we knew how.”

Terry smiles at his father and reaches over to pat him on the shoulder “At least if I ever have to, I'll have help?”

Bruce smiles back and nods “If all goes well, you will.”

==============================

January 3rd, 2018. 22:40 hours (10:40 PM local time). North of Spokane, Washington.

“Hank, take over the Red Eye on 122.6 for me. I can’t budge at the moment on hand line.”

A group of professional looking men sit inside of the air traffic control tower, each facing a different illuminated screen before them. Some are radar screens, some computer terminals, some with scrolling text. One of the men, Hank, leans back and takes a small placard from his co-worker (Brett) and sets it next to his radar terminal. He leans forward and marks a little spot on the screen with a dry-erase marker. A voice comes through the small speaker on his right. The jet he had just started to monitor.
“KSFF terminal do you have any traffic for our TWA 32?”

Hank squints a little, marking another spot on his screen as he responds to the pilot.
“TWA 32, I have no known traffic in your vicinity, but I am painting a raw target off to your… ten o’clock position. Not painting a transponder, however. It must be at the low altitude sector. Do you roger?”

The pilot’s voice once more comes over the speaker, sounding a little hesitant now.
“We’d like to advise that the target could not be at low altitude. It is above me, descending through my 33,000 now. It’s moving in and out of my traffic, really moving.”

Hank now starts to feel some concern, but he keeps it out of his calmed tone.
“There are only 2 aircraft under my guidance. TWA 32 and American 517. TWA 32, give me a description of the target.”

“We are observing… well it’s something small, tower. And now moving to our nine o’clock. Tower be advised it is… uh.. tower standby please…”

It’s rare for a pilot to be without words, especially when at the helm of a jetliner packed with passengers. A different voice now comes over the speaker, and as it does Hank’s workstation starts to gather a small crowd of his fellow air traffic controllers.
“TWA 32. American 517 monitoring on 122.6. We are at your 1 o’clock. Advise us if you are changing airspeed.”

The TWA pilot comes over the speaker.
“Say again. Say again.”

”Advise us if you are changing speed. The object looks like its changing distances from you.”

Hank glances over his shoulder towards his coworkers and then addresses the pilots.
“KSFF tower to American 517. You are in traffic with TWA 32 and the target going in the same direction. Advise left to 330, 517. Do you concur with this sighting?”

There is silence across the speaker, and in the room save for the soft hum of machinery around them. Hank leans forward and speaks again.
“Do you see anything from your… ten o’clock position?”

The Floor Marshall standing behind Hank motions to the radar screen as he looks to the man on his right. He tells the man to contact the Air Force on whether they are running anything in their airspace. And to advise them to be on standby, in case their worst fears are confirmed. A drone being piloted to do damage… or a missile.

The American pilot speaks once more, sounding just a little distracted.
”Yes. We have it now and have been watching it.”

Hank speaks in a flat tone.
“What does the object appear to be doing?”

“Exactly what TWA said. It’s almost like it’s matching course and speed, diverting, then matching.”

Once more Hank speaks in a flat tone, as if dreading what the answer could be.
“Do you want to report a UFO?”

A studied pause, then the TWA pilot speaks up.
“Negative. We don’t want to report.”

“American 517 do you wish to report a UFO?”

A pause of a few seconds before the pilot answers.
“Negative… negative we don’t want to report one of those either..”

Hank nods a little as the men and women gathered behind him chatter softly amongst themselves.
“TWA 32. I am painting this target moving away from you, ten o’clock position.”

“TWA confirmed.”

“Proceeding northeast, bound from its earlier altitude.”

“A descending configuration at about twenty degrees off my horizon… wait..”

Hank sits up a little in his chair, the other controllers now falling silent and looking towards the radar screen.
“KSFF tower confirmed. Say again TWA 32.”

“TWA 32 to… KSFF… tower… the object is now out of sight. Nowhere on scopes. It was close to us… really damn close… at our one o’clock….”

“TWA 32, what was it? We are advising the Air Force to scramble Giant Killer squ-”

Hank is cut off by the TWA pilot.

“Negative on the scramble, KSFF. Bogey is gone. It .. it… looked like a girl..”

==============================

Gotham City. Today.
This particular city holds more secrets than just about any other on Earth. No one being is beholden to all of the dark city’s secrets. But the one with perhaps the most knowledge of the dark city… is one of its secrets. It’s no coincidence that the Argo Academy isn’t terribly far from Gotham. That puts it under the watchful eye of Gotham’s eternal sentinel of the night. And right now, the Batman keeps himself hidden amongst the silent gargoyles far above the street. All keep vigil with their silence, Batman’s eyes looking down towards corner of Detroit Avenue and West Travis Street. This was once the corner Jimmy Ratso sold his drugs from, until Robin shut it down not terribly long ago. But he isn’t really watching for that sort of thing, not today. Yes, it is day. A rare time for Batman to be out and about. But today is a special day. The Academy’s first day.

And as he watches, he makes note of a young girl making her way down the street towards the intersection. Wearing a pink leather jacket and blue jeans… most of her attention seeming to be on the phone in her hand. Well that’s not really true. Most of her attention is on the doughnut half eaten in her other hand, custard half along her fingers. Upon her back is a duffel bag that looks about as big as she is, it looks like she shouldn’t be able to carry it so easily. Batman narrows his eyes as he watches her move along the street… and he, too, is then on the move. She turns left at the intersection, walking across the street. Almost getting hit by a car as she does. She doesn’t even look up as the car beeps its horn as it passes her. She gets to the other side of the street and stops abruptly. She turns in a little circle and holds her phone upwards, as if asking for divine guidance. And its then she walks back the way she came from. She should have taken a right, not a left.

For a few more blocks she walks, until she gets to what looks like a normal subway entrance. It has a ‘under construction’ sign hanging along the entrance, and she stops for a moment. She takes another big chomp of her doughnut as she examines the sign… and then she walks right past it. Kind of jogging down the stairs, she is careful not to drop her doughnut. Oh, her phone either. Yeah, that too. Getting to the bottom of the stairs, she moves to her right. The station is deserted of people… well for the most part. There is a few there, all of them seeming to be in wait. And upon the tracks, a very advanced looking train.

All of the new students would have gotten the same directions she did. All of them, sooner or later, would find their way to this place. A train station hidden in plain sight… owned by Queen Industries.
 
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Gotham City

Everest placed a hand on his youngest sister's head. "It's not like I'm going to be gone forever." He joked as he began to ruffle her hair much to her displeasure. She grumbled something about writing back home to which the speedster had agreed to. Each of his siblings began to hug their eldest brother goodbye, some of them sniffind. He'd never left them for more than a few hours but there was reason to believe that he might have to live on grounds. But hey, it was a new experience for the male and he was more than willing to take it. Especially since it meant finishing it would give him a better life - give his family a better life.

Once all his siblings was done, he gave his mother a hug goodbye and promised that he'll do his best. His mother gave him a tearful goodbye before letting him go. Perhaps it was because she was overflowing with joy that her eldest child would now be able to go to school. After all, Everest never went to one. He learned by himself, through reading books in the library when he had the time.

Everest then walked out. Without a phone to his name, he had a letter delivered to him that gave him instructions on what to do and how to get there. He had memorized the ins and outs of Gotham City, having lived as a thief in the notorious neighborhood. He had to learn and memorize maps so he knew how to slip out of sight and out of reach of the authorities. Sure, he didn't start off as a good person. But hey, who does? He just wanted to eat and help his mother. What was wrong with that?

He reached the subway entrance and pursed his lips. He looked back down at his letter and then pushed it inside his pocket and then continued forward. He nimbly descended the stairs two steps at a time with childish glee. He had always heard that school wasn't exactly the best place on earth, but this was going to be his first time. Sure, he was starting late but he knew basics that could at least pass him off at highschool level... he thinks. Surely, the speed force would give him a bit more leeway so that he could process things faster than most.

Everest lept off at the fifth to the last step and a resounding thud was let out thanks to it. He had safely landed on the ground and he walked forward to join the other students who he saw seemed quite well off. Did they come from outside Gotham? Everest didn't really get to talk much with people outside his hometown, but he was pretty excited to see who he'll meet. And who knows, maybe he could get some money out of this too. His eyes seemed to bulge out at the sight of the advanced train, the money spent on that would have fed his family for years. You never get tired of seeing rich people doing their own things, that's for sure.
 
Jackie

A Gotham Yellow Checker Taxi parks a block away from the supposedly 'closed' subway entrance. The driver looks around, and asks the girls in the back “You sure you want to get off here?”

“Right here.” Jackie answers, getting out of the car onto the street pulling her rolling luggage bag with her. The driver pops the trunk so she can retrieve her other from there. He shrugs, as he's done what he's been paid to do and waves at her before driving off. Jackie stands still on the corner as she puts in her wireless earbuds and puts on music for her walk. Today she wears her hair down, a black and red Rob Zombie shirt, and black skinny jeans. Not the best attire for the middle of a summer day, but the girl doesn't sweat a drop as she walks to the subway entrance pulling most of her worldly possessions behind her. One might think she were moving to this school permanently with the volume of stuff she brings. Her expression is neutral, dispassionate you might say all the while. She does scrunch her brow nad grimace as she struggles to get her stuff down the stairs though.

When she does reach the subway platform Jackie does a cursory look around at the other kids, and some of them their family as well. Jackie doesn't have anyone waiting. She knows nobody here. Not even the person who had recruited her for this academy was here. So the girl goes up to the doors of the train and enters when they slide open for her. Inside the train are rows of three seats each, ample overhead storage, and more space in the aisle than a normal commercial train. There are a few rows filled by the time she steps on, but she sees a vacant cluster towards the back and goes there. The girl opens the overhead storage, and gets the smaller of her bags up and in without trouble. It's the larger that she can't lift up past her hips. She struggles, grunts and huffs as she tries to get it up and in without help.

Larissa

Across the aisle from where Jackie is struggling with her luggage sits another teenage girl who has been there since the train first arrived. She doesn't have earphones or her cellphone out; in fact all she has is a book of Sudoku and a pencil. Yet her entire attention is on this book. Her eyes and the tip of the pencil do not wander from the page as she works out the puzzle, shutting out everything else. She wears a long-sleeved grey and black striped shirt, a black beanie, a grey skirt and black leggings with yellow Chuck Taylor shoes.

“And with this here...” She says to herself as she scratches in one of the last spaces on the puzzle. “I can...yes!” She says triumphantly upon finishing the Sudoku. She taps the book with the eraser and sets it on the empty seat next to her to stretch. Now she hears Jackie struggling, and gets up to go help her.

“Hey hey, let me help you.” She tells the smaller girl, gently taking the big luggage case from her hands and lifting it somewhat effortlessly up into the stage compartment. “There we go!” She says and smiles at the other girl, extending her hand. “Larissa Ermy-Gordon. Nice to meet you.”

“Um...Jackie....thanks.” Jackie replies shaking Larissa's hand rather weakly and quickly, wanting to avoid physical contact. The girl takes a window seat without saying another word and fiddles with her phone, cranking up her music.


“Okay.” Larissa shrugs and doesn't take this personally. The girl seems the nonsocial type. Probably one of those quiet geniuses you hear about. She goes back to her own seat and crosses her legs, checks the old-fashioned watch on her wrist. The train was scheduled to depart in about twenty minutes. Larissa checks her phone and sees another message from her mother. “Remember to be nice to your roommate.” it says. Understandable reminder, as Larissa is an only child who hasn't had to share a bedroom before. She wasn't told who her roommate would be, but Larissa hopes they won't make things too difficult.
 
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Max clutches a bookbag filled with everything important to him to his chest and tries not to wiggle too obnoxiously as he nervously chews the end of a pencil. When he had walked into the 'abandoned' subway (floated really, as soon Max realized he could fly stairs had been eliminated from his life) he'd realized how much he wanted everyone to like him. Sure he'd spent some time wondering if his room would be nice or if his roommate would be nice, but now he's fidgeting on the fanciest train he has ever seen wondering if they'll think he's nice.

The problem is that being a nuisance is a lot more fun than being nice and Max can't guarantee he'll remain on his best behavior if this school is as bad as he's dreading. Nuisances usually only make friends with other nuisances and Max isn't sure he can handle that either. He hasn't been to school in two years and sure it's not fair to assume this place will be anything like the horrors of middle school, but that's really all he has to compare to.

Now Max is fully prepared to give this his all, but if the school does something dumb, like demand he maintain impossible standards or try to send him back home to his parents he won't just sit there and take it. Max is not above being annoyingly childish if need be. He wouldn't throw a full blown tantrum, but he could definitely ruin somebody's day. Maybe he'd seem like a brat, but Max would rather have everyone at the school hate him than hate every moment he's going to be living there.

But he really hopes no one will hate him.

Before he complete destroys the end of his pencil, Max decides to distract himself by doodling something. He puts his back to the window and pulls his feet into his seat so he can look around the train without twisting too much, balancing his sketchbook on his knees.

There's a girl wearing all black and grey who Max decides to draw because his colored pencils are put away and he doesn't feel like retrieving them. This way he doesnt have to. Her shoes are yellow, but shoes are too hard to draw so he decides to just leave them out. The masterpiece is going to be her battling and number nine with a sword. All Max really knows about Sudoku is that nine is an important number and he'd seen her with a Sudoku book.
 
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As the Korean girl stands there at the bottom of the platform, she finishes her donut. She licks some of her fingers clean of the icing, and then she starts to work on the phone again. She gets suddenly gets a very happy look on her face, and she waves to her phone. “Hi guys!” She says excitedly, her phone now filled with the faces of 4 of her friends as they Skype one another. She smiles widely as she listens to them on her earbuds, nodding and laughing every few moments. She then shrugs and looks up as she speaks. “Iunno… I mean I’m in Gotham. It’s as stinky as I thought it’d be. I think this is like some kind of top secret train’re somethin.” She then turns the phone around so her friends can look at the train that she thinks is supposed to be top secret. “See?” She then turns the phone around to herself and nods again “Jakey, just mail me those tracks ya’ll made for me, please. When I get ‘em all mixed an stuff, I’ll let ya hear it. Just don’t be mad if I mess ‘em up!” She says with a soft laugh. She nods again, and she waves as she starts towards the train now, seeing Everest approach the train out of the corner of her eyes. “annyeong yaedeul a! dangsin-eul salanghabnida!” She then closes Skype, and tucks her phone into her pocket. She brushes her hand across her chest, making sure her little camera is still hanging there on its 'Hello Kitty' pink lanyard. The camera is a Nikon D3400.
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She goes into a sort of light jog, still smiling widely as she slips through the open train doors. She moves towards where she sees empty seats, seeming just thrilled to be there. She’s now in the general area of empty seats where Max, Larissa and Jackie are. With one hand she hefts the seeming oversized duffel bag into one of the overhead compartments, where it lands with a low thud sound. She turns in a little circle as she stands there in the aisle, waving to all of them with both hands and a wide smile on her lips. “Hullo!” She exclaims. Then motioning to herself “I’m Yun, and new here!” Her name is pronounced like ‘June’, but with a ‘Y’ instead of ‘J’. She plops down in the nearest empty seat, across from Max and behind Larissa and Jackie. Her hands grasp the back of the seat in front of her as she leans out into the aisle to look to each of them. “Are you guys goin to Argo Academy too? I’m going there. Weren’t sure if this train took everyone there or what. I’m a new student.” She says proudly, once more motioning to herself.
 
Everest was keenly aware of those around him. Perhaps it was because he was on the lookout for things to steal as a subconscious thing to do, or perhaps it is because he didn't want anyone stealing from him. Or... or maybe because he was just self-conscious about the fact that he may as well have been the poorest one at that location. He shook his head to get the intrusive thought out. He wouldn't be judged here, right? They were all supposed to be goody-two-shoes who were going to be superheroes one day so they should be nice right? He shuddered at the thought of being excluded because of his social and financial status. It seemed like such a shallow thing but it meant the entire world to most people. He should know.

His eyes were drawn to a Korean girl because she was just going to say farewell - he assumed - to whoever was on the other side of her phone. It would have been so easy to just rush in and take what he wanted. She had a good phone and a good camera. He wanted to just take it. But he shouldn't do it. He couldn't do it now. Everest knew that everyone there was special one way or another and he wasn't going to risk getting hurt now.

Everest followed her inside the train, mostly because he had no other choice. She had ended her call or Skype or whatever that was just as he was planning to just rush towards the train. But oh well, right? When the Korean girl in front of him introduced herself, he just couldn't help but add in after her.

"Oh? What a coincidence." He said with a small smirk as he waved at them. "I'm new here too. Glad I'm not the only one." Everest then bowed his head at them in a polite manner that he only really saw in movies happen to one another. No one ever bothered to show manners to him before, but at least his mother taught some manners. "Everest. Pleasure to meet you guys." He finally introduced himself. He then sat down to the empty chair across to the side of Yun and Max so he was diagonal to Larissa and Jackie. He eyed the Sudoku puzzle Larissa was doing. "Sudoku huh? My little bro's great at that." He mused.