Acadian: One fun thing about writing January and Avery is that I get to use all sorts of gaming terminology.
I was also thinking the bathroom scene could be something ugly. But I also thought of how many selfies and even videos are taken in the bathroom mirror. In the end modern internet culture won out with my decision for the Klingon to be a fan.
I spent a lot of time in this first chapter going through the nuts and bolts of January and Avery's detective work because it is the first time for them. In the future when it becomes a more common activity, I will gloss over a lot of the details and just summarize it. Unless of course, it gives me an opportunity to show January learning something new.
I did have a missing 'he' up there. Thanks for catching that.
Book 1.8 - Stormcrow RisingJanuary's home, well technically her parent's home, was a modest two story affair in Warren. It was an older suburb, so the streets were narrower, and the lots much smaller, than those in newer cities such as Sterling Heights or Clinton Township. This particular house did not even have a garage, though it did possess a two lane driveway. But even that only ran the length of a single car to the front of the house, then turned into nothing but a dirt path to the back yard.
The house itself was paneled with gray aluminum siding, which matched the gray shingles on the roof. A pair of dormers jutted from the roof on either side of the second floor, with wide windows facing out of each. A third dormer lurked farther back between them, with an even larger window set within it. The porch below was made of light green concrete. Three bright teal support beams ran from it to the long eave that overhang the front of the house and shaded the porch. A low fence of wood blocked off the front and right side of the porch. Only the left side, which adjoined the driveway, was open.
It was late when she got home, and her mother's Mini Cooper and father's Chevy Equinox were both in the driveway. January could see from the lights inside that they were still up. Just her luck, Saturday night was their euchre night. The blue Aztek in the street out front told her that the Xiang's were over. Really, who drove an Aztek?
She was about to walk in the front door when she realized that she had her armor piled up in her arms. She could not very well waltz in with that, not when Stormcrow was all over the news.
She glanced up. She could see the dormer window to her room right there beside the driveway. If only there was some way to get there without going past her parents and their friends. Of course there was. The eave was only about eight feet up. How hard could that be to jump?
It turned out to be no trouble at all for her to leap up to. Without wearing the suit, but holding it in her arms instead. That meant the jump was all her. No meta-tech involved.
She moved slowly across the roof, hoping to avoid making any creaks that might be heard from within the house. Thankfully the dormer to her room was only a few feet away. Naturally the window was closed. She could pry the screen off and open it from the outside. But she did not see the point in bending it all up. Her parents still had to see her walk in the front door, like a normal person. Instead she just set her armor down in front of the window. Then she hopped back down to the sidewalk. She barely even had to flex her knees to absorb the impact of the landing.
That made January wonder if she had possessed these meta abilities all along, or if they had only just awakened recently. Gymnastics had never been what she would call easy. It had always taken hard work and concentration. Even so, none of her classmates had ever come close to being her equal in it. In the past she had always put that down to her being more focused. She didn't waste time going to parties, or binge-watching TV, or surfing MeTube, or spending hours talking and texting friends, or shopping for clothes, and all the other things that seemed to preoccupy teenagers so much.
Now she wondered if she really had these abilities all along, just not at the degree she currently possessed. Perhaps recent events had not awakened them, so much as honed them to their current level? If so, did that mean the more she practiced, the more she focused, the more she used these powers, the greater they would become? She hoped so.
She fished out her keys and let herself in the iron barred security door, and then the actual front door behind it. She stepped inside, and the sound of voices came to her ears from the dining room. By the time she had locked the door behind her and turned back around her mother was standing before her.
"Oh I was so worried when I heard the news!" she wrapped her arms around January in a big hug. Then she stepped back, and looked her over. "You really are all right then? You weren't shot, or stabbed, or beaten?"
January's mother was short, shorter than she was, with red hair that spilled across her shoulders like a wildfire. A barely visible sprinkle of freckles dusted across her cheeks, just beneath her sea-green eyes. She wore a pair of old jeans, and a yellow tee that said "Librarians Are Sexy". January had to admit, she did not look her nearly fifty years of age. Or was it fifty thousand? It was so hard to tell the difference with parents.
"Oh he's fine Barb," her father's voice came from the hallway behind her mother. January tried not to show it, but a knife twisted in her stomach at the sound of him misnaming her gender. It had been nearly eight years since January had transitioned, but still her father called her "he" all the time. As if acknowledging her gender would bring the stars into alignment and loose some Lovecraftian horror upon the world.
A blond man of roughly the same age as her mother, January's father Romulus was tall, and wore a pair of thin, steel-rimmed glasses. If one had to guess, one would think he was the librarian in the family. Not that a history teacher was far from that mark. Add in her brother Julian, the lawyer-to-be, and everyone in the family was some sort of academic. Except for her. She had always been the oddball. The one who never fit in anywhere.
The Xiangs popped their heads around the corner a few moments later. Mr. Xiang said that the super battle at the hotel was definitely trending. Apparently everyone was using #stormcrow to post their pictures and videos. Naturally everyone pressed her for what she saw. But all she could do was stick to the story she had told her mother earlier on the phone. She had not seen or heard a thing. Thankfully no one recognized her in the Stormcrow armor. Otherwise her parents would have definitely exploded.
She was taking selfies with fans and had a hashtag. Her fifteen minutes of fame had definitely started. Still, she had no doubt that a singing goat or grumpy dog would displace her in popularity by tomorrow morning. The attention span of the internet was shorter than that of a five-year old off his Ritalin.
January made excuses of being tired, and headed upstairs to her room. The walls were painted a soft ivory, and the floor was carpeted in a slightly darker shade of cream. A pair of ruby curtains braced the window, bringing a bright splash of color to the room. So too did the soft watermelon quilt that covered her small bed. The end table beside it bore a battered alarm clock, phone charger, and a lamp that was now draped with a multicolored scarf.
A print of John William Waterhouse's The Crystal Ball hung from one wall. A collage of female MMA fighters graced another. The third wall held a still picture of the Veil floating over Lake Shore Drive, her lean frame sheathed in elemental darkness. Next to it was an image of Blood Raven striding through Campus Martius, with the grandiose Michigan Soldiers' and Sailors' Monument towering behind her.
A simple white desk was squeezed into one corner, with a flat screen monitor and keyboard on top of it, and her refurbished Dell computer tucked away underneath. The nearby dresser, vanity, and half-size bookcase were of the same manufacture. Aside from the posters and colorful drapes, the room was plain and simple.
January shut the door behind her, and glanced briefly at the plain piece of paper she had tacked there. On it were what she thought of as her Viking Virtues. Excerpts from the
Havamal and various Sagas, they all had something in them to live by. She headed each quote with a short title, summarizing their meanings in her own words. Among them were:
Do Not Live In Fear"The error is the result of letting fear rule your actions" - The Saga of Harald Hardrade, c.46.
Friendship"A true friend whom you trust well and wish for his good will: go to him often exchange gifts and keep him company" -
Havamal, s.44.
Kindness"A kind word need not cost much, The price of praise can be cheap: With half a loaf and an empty cup I found myself a friend" -
Havamal, s.52.
The Law Is Not Always Right"When truth and fairness are different from what is law, better it is to follow truth and fairness" - Bandamanna Saga, c.6
Be A Part Of The World"He is truly wise who has traveled far and knows the ways of the world. He who has travelled can tell what spirit governs the men he meets" -
Havamal, s.18.
Never Hide My Truth"Sorrow eats him who can no longer open his heart to another" -
Havamal, s.121.
Prepare for the Worst"A wayfarer should not walk unarmed, but have his weapons to hand" -
Havamal, s.38.
Sacrifice"Nine whole days and nights, stabbed with a spear, offered to Odin, myself to mine own self given." -
Havamal, s.138.
Never Give Up, No Matter What"Often times it is not numbers that wins the victory, but those who fare forward with the most vigor" - The Saga of Thrond of Gate, c.19
It was a reminder that she looked at every time she left her bedroom, and ventured out into the world. Especially the final entry.
Never ever give up, no matter what.January smiled faintly. She had not given up. She had been a Viking today.
Then she leaped to the window, flung it open, and gathered up her armor. As if a larcenous squirrel might have made off with it. She immediately shoved the black and gray panoply under her bed, and carefully arranged some old shoes in front of it to shield it from easy notice.
She turned on her computer and started her Counting Crows playlist for some background music. Then she began scanning her hashtag. Her jaw dropped at all the pics and short videos. Most were shaky and out of focus. But a few were startling. There she was, framed against the broken skylight in a still picture. Her cape flowed out after her as she leaped into the sky, and a bolt of lightning arced across the firmament behind her. That seemed to be the most popular picture. There was even a meme with it already. "Stormcrow does not simply walk into Mordor. She leaps!"
Others showed her going hand-to-hand with Lighthammer. There were many comments on the fighting styles she was employing. Some said it was clearly Wing-Chun, others Jeet-Kune-Do, which made her shake her head. She had never studied either. But other posts - made by more knowledgeable people - spelled out her Karate, Krav Maga, and Muay Thai moves. Like the downward jumping elbow she had used to break open Lighthammer's helmet.
She stared at Lighthammer. He was bigger than she was. Not just taller, but more muscular. But did that mean much in this super-powered age? He had never really tried punching or kicking her. Instead he had only blocked, especially with those force fields projected from his forearms. He had attacked solely with his light blasts.
She was going to have to face him again. She had no doubt about it. How was she going to defeat him? Perhaps going for the legs might circumvent his force fields? She could try low kicks to the knees to disable him. But could he still fly in spite of that? Or might she take it to the ground? Grappling was not her strongest suit. She only knew a few holds and throws, and those were from a standing position.
She would have to put Greco-Roman wrestling on her to-do list, along with Brazilian jiu-jitsu. It would have been nice to have taken the former in school. But gymnastics had been a nightmare as it was, with people claiming that she was really just a boy trying find an easy way to excel by competing against girls. She could never do anything even remotely masculine, given the backlash that always followed. Simply practicing on the rings had always brought her sneers. Trying a traditionally male sport like wrestling had been simply out of the question.
January shook her head. This was no time to go down unhappy memory lane. She had to plan her moves. Obviously she would need to lead with her strengths against Lighthammer. That meant striking. She would have to try to keep his hands off-line, so he couldn't shoot her. But how could she do that at close range? She would have to pinion his hands somehow.
She crawled into bed with her tablet, still looking at pictures and videos of the fight, and trying to work on strategy. She woke the next morning with the Fire 7 still in her lap. Her hair was plastered against the side of her face, along with a line of drool. She had to wait to use the shower, and passed the time by experimenting with various ponytail and ponytail braids she found on MeTube. She would need to know some for when she got her motorcycle. She no longer considered that a possibility. It would be a fact. She would have it, and that was that.
She dove into the shower once her brother was finished, and by the time she had dried off and dressed, she found that she was last to the breakfast table, as usual. It was Sunday morning, so the entire family was there for a change. She dug into her Eggos without a word, allowing everyone else to ignore her while they talked about the super battle that had taken place the other night.
"I for one think it is a good thing that we have another hero in Metro Detroit," her mother declared. "All we have had for years is Blood Raven, and she cannot be everywhere."
"And she is not exactly a hero," her father said. "How many people has she killed in just the last decade? A dozen?"
"Like that maniac who walked into the Ren Cen and just started shooting people?" her mother countered. "Or the ones who were kidnapping young girls and selling them overseas? The world's a better place without them in it."
"But what happens when she's got the wrong guy?" her brother Julian interjected. He took after their father with his tall frame, blond hair, and rectangular features. January imagined that he was handsome, given how girls seemed to flock to him. "It's only a matter of time before she kills an innocent person, just because they
looked guilty. That's why we need the law, and cops, policing us. Not caped vigilantes."
"Like when those bullies were beating me up," January could not help but interject, "and the school did nothing. Oh, except expel me for fighting back. Or the school shooting where the gunman went inside, so the cop there went outside? And just how many hundreds of people in prison have been exonerated by DNA evidence? The police don't care who they arrest, so long as they don't risk their necks in the process."
"You are such a crybaby," Julian sneered. "
Bullies beat me up! It's so unfair! Join the rest of the world already."
"Yeah, and like the rest of the world I had to beat the crap out of them all on my own," January said. "Ordinary people have to step up, because the people in positions of authority are too lazy, too bigoted, or too cowardly to do their jobs."
"Step up perhaps," January's father mused. "But we should stop to think about how our actions might negatively impact others first. Just because we might think what we are doing is for the better, it might still be for the worse."
"So is Stormcrow making things better or worse?" January's mother queried. "I think she is making it better, at least so far."
"So far I agree," her father said. "But it's only been one night. We don't know what she is really made of. She might just be some thrill-seeker out on a lark, or a mercenary, and end up getting a lot of innocent people killed. We'll just have to watch and see what kind of person she turns out to be really be. Assuming we see more of her."
"What do you mean?" January asked.
"She might change her mind, and decide that once was enough," her father explained. "She might not even be from here. She could have been any one of those people staying in that hotel. For all we know she might be in San Francisco right now, or New York."
"Or maybe she will get full, legal empowerment, and work with the government?" January's mother added. "Like the Sentinels in Chicago, or the Knight Defenders in the UK."
January was thinking about that, when her brother had to interject his usual brand of poison into the conversation.
"I think Stormcrow is a stupid name," Julian scoffed. "It's a total rip off of Lord of the Rings."
"What because Grima calls Gandalf that once? And Theodon twice?" January countered. She had looked it up last night. "It's just a nickname. A common one."
"Also a mighty fine medium BattleMech," her father murmured. "Or so I hear from my students of course."
"Of course, it's not like you would waste any of your time playing computer games," January's mother smiled conspiratorially at her father. Then her gaze moved to January's brother. "I hope you aren't spending your time at U of M playing online games Julian."
"Yes, you'll have your law degree in just a few years son," January's father said. "Have you thought about your future practice yet?"
"I have." January instantly recognized that Julian was squirming. The slight way he tensed his jaw muscles always gave him away. "I decided to go into criminal law instead of corporate."
"Really?" both of her parents said at once, then her father continued on his own. "Are you sure that is a good idea?"
"I've been talking it over with some of my friends at Michigan," Julian said. "We decided we are going to start our own law firm. There's a lot of money to be made in criminal cases, so we are sure we can turn a profit in no time."
"Criminal cases," January's mother mulled over. "You would be spending your time with thieves, murderers, the worst kinds of people."
"Like other lawyers…" January breathed. "I think Julian should work for the ACLU, and defend people whose civil rights are under threat."
"I may as well work at Burger Baron, for all the money I would make doing that. I am sure that's where you will end up, but not me." Julian looked down his nose at January. Then he turned back to their parents, and his voice softened. "My friends and I, we think this can work, and we'll be our own bosses."
"I hope you know what you're doing son," January's father cautioned. "It is your future after all."
* * *
January's Parents HouseJanuary's Parents House Aerial ViewJohn William Waterhouse - The Crystal BallCecilia BrækhusCampus MartiusMichigan Soldier's and Sailor's MonumentStormcrow BattleMechStormcrow BattleMech PicU of M Law SchoolBlood RavenBarbara Ward (January's mom) (RL Amy Davidson)Romulus Ward (January's dad) (RL Anthony Heald)Julian Ward (January's brother) (RL Gabriel Mann)