i can’t believe i woke up this morning, thinking my dream was true when a few days prior a nightmare told me anything but: discount nino brown beating his court case and getting off with more flying colors than tekashi six-nine. frieda and i watched the kangaroo trial go down with zipped-lips and clenched jaw, praying silently that god/yhwh would light up all the dirty, slick-talking lips dirty money can buy. our prayers were only answered when the devil picked up god’s line and said sike.
no matter how much concrete evidence they had stacked against him, that kevin lomax-like lawyers grew greater thorns in the cracks. nobody, i mean nobody had clippers to brush through the bullshit. what were we, the little people, the ones that were violated left with? watching ignorance’s smile get pulled away by a small escort of all black suburbans. we had reasonable doubts that those along with the hood security detail were purchased with hard-earned clean cash.
i had so many emotions welling up in me outside the courthouse that day, i didn’t know what to do with them. that greasy ass fat bastard literally had a street sweeper team hunt down my friend and caused my other one to ditch town to dodge a murder charge. what justice got to do with static when he does all he can for a city that operates on corrupt mechanics. i didn’t think money should have the power to by the soul but since they wanted to play like that, i thought, “ okay, let’s play. ”
my declaration of war on scum had to be put on hold though because my stomach was bumbling and hero can’t whoop some jabroni’s ass on an empty stomach. digging into some good ol fashioned eggs that were thankfully made by moms and not sharon, i picked up the remote to the turn on the news to see what’s new. i listen to the weather report, some ol’ story about trumps latest controversial tweet, and local stories that spoke about the recent tragedies of officers that lost their lives this week. the story that caught my attention the most though was about a seemingly new bang-baby that was making some noise in the streets.
this is the third dang time i heard about this person this week. i’m not sure how it was possible for there to be a new bang baby. what happened with their powers, was it dormant? did the just live a life of secrecy until they started flexing their guns? most bang-babies by now were in databases and winds haven’t picked up on a new bang baby in a long time, so i figured that we, the ones that were logged, were all there was—but nope. this bang baby was slowly making my statement and now they were officially on my radar. also, it doesn’t help that they were compared to me. a person with electrical powers and all of a sudden i’m part of the conversation.
but at least i’m still mentioned though.i can’t have this girl or dude ride my coattail and build their clout that way. this was my city and quite frankly, from how i was feeling about this: i would say i’m goddamn stingy about my thugs. my thugs are my own. even icon and rocket got their own part of dakota to deal with. this kilowatt junky was in my turf and now, with this recent update about how they were causing a ruckus in paris island, i thought it was time for me to address this problem of mines before the blood syndicate made my issue theirs. good thing it’s a sunday.
shazam’ing myself out of virgil and into static, the unrivaled phenom of dakota, i thought i’d crack thunder over at paris island to begin my manhunt. i’d be lying if i said i was going there for just the new bang baby. nah, i had to see a couple of boys about something. i was feeling like it was time to bring in some new electrifying religion, so by the power invested in me i methodically crash a party at a local bar and presented my dazzling presence as zeus with locs.
“ sup, ladies? i’ll make this short and sweet, so you can get back to your slummin’ as fast as possible. two things: one, have ya’ll peeped the news about a bang-baby that’s been jockin’ my style? two, i got a personal message for the tub of lard i know ya’ll work. i’d like to deliver it myself, so can ya’ll act as my gps and give me some directions? ”
the answers i was given was the sour face you make when you let a nasty one rip and brandished weapons. guns, knives, and a whole bunch of neat toys i easily jerked out of the hand of the lowlives with a minuscule amount of electromagnetic energy from my index finger. “ yeah, ya’ll tried it. ” they weren’t shocked—they shouldn’t be, because they knew me too well—but they weren’t giving up nothing i wanted hear. that’s fine by me, raw is war, with no trivia. i like that. in fact, i need that.
they came around to surround me like i was the best looking girl to take to the prom. but before they could get crazy enough to think they could get their freak on, i was quick to dish out pence therapies in the swing of my taser punches. rocking and knocking suckas off their foundations is a one-man dance and i didn’t need no hand in that. one face after another, bones cracked, thunder snapped, my mind popped. initially, i didn’t mean to get more more rougher than a pair of homeless army vet timbs. but it was hard on me to come back to sense when all i could see was how to make change out of these chumps.
or maybe i’m psyching myself out here. maybe i did go predator-style and seek out a bunch of stankin’ raw hides like a lion robbing a poacher of his kill. maybe the chief of police will have my ear for going off like a crazy sorceress on her period. i hate to ruin a good relationship but maybe i had a good excuse for this. i can entertain all the maybes and sing The Chantels, but I’m a gza genius with the detective work of the day and the fuzz wasn’t about to have me as their sidekick in their slack. so despite me putting the hurts on these guys, i’ll get my info one way or another.
“ really? the hell is wrong with you? is that how the hero of dakota gets down? ”
“ huh? ” whoever asked that, i didn’t get a chance to see it because of a huge surge of energy knocking the wind and fire out of me. whoever suckered blasted me really had some power to them and whoever had power like that was going to get it sent right back to them once i finish getting my ass up off the floor. i struggled to keep a balance, using the tossed over table to support my weight as i stood on my legs again. it took me a moment, but my attacker was kind enough to let me turn around see who they were. what i saw—well, i think i found my copycat. but it was a girl??? nani!?
i didn’t know what to make out of her energy, but i was kind of intrigued. and thirsty. “ now this is way too rich. i take it you’re the chick that’s been going around making waves, because i sure as heck never seen you before. i’m glad we’ve the pleasure of meeting, but in case you haven’t noticed, dakota got static. they don’t need burnbright. so if—” i paused mid-sentence, and let my eyes wander up and down on the heroine or rogue or… possible villainess. “ .. you want to be a poster girl for mountain dew’s new livewire flavor elsewhere? i’ll be gentleman to see you on your way out once i’m done with my business here. now if you will excuse me, please? ”
with a shot of orange electric flames from both hands, she’s pushing off the ground, manipulating the currents beneath her body to send her spurring higher and higher into the night’s skies and the currents create a field supporting her upwards. she floats over an unfamiliar city and unfamiliar faces, legs crossed meditative style. this far above within the clouds, the ground beneath her was an entanglement of lights and the electric impulses from almost every breathing body traveling through their nervous systems as far as her eyes could see, shining like a tangled beckoning call. the wind blows against her cheek, her hair tracing across her cheek before she brushes it away with a gloved hand.
jennifer adjusts the scanner in her ear, picking up on precincts in various districts across dakota — there’s always something, every night, consistently, without fail. always someone in trouble, someone hurting, someone doing the hurting. but movement kept her mind away from the danger lurking like a predator in her thoughts, khalil, her family, the threat of being used like some weapon of mass destruction for a war. ready to consume her at any reflection. she avoids it all by, ironically, leaping headfirst into another bout of danger.
that precarious transition from georgia to the underbelly of dakota had reset her back to square one like someone had flicked on a reset button, erasing everything she had built within the last two months. all the way back to the foundations of learning how to navigate spurn abilities in her own city that had been her home for seventeen years. those unfortunate weeks of trial and error spent in a metaphysical projection in her mind — creating boxes of steel, to house overactive cells spurning electricity, were some of the last few memories she had in freeland.
just like flexing a muscle, her mentor had claimed, while she was bathing in an electric fire that hurt down to the core of her nerves and mucles. but back in freeland, she had the advantage of home turf when it came to dealing with her abilities and her budding vigilante persona, dubbed lightning. now she didn’t even have the luxury of that, it too stripped away alongside her friends and school. any thought she had of picking herself back up for some form of normalcy was tossed out the window alongside her friends and school, the thought of harvard throttled.
out here in the midwest, in a city she did not recognize, she had nothing but her wits and power. luckily for her this time, it included the ability to control those powers — at least, she still maintained that gain, despite the fallbacks. didn’t have to worry about exploding in nuclear fire from the inside out because her emotions spilled over a little too much. but she had been yanked from one hellhole to the next, abruptly. that had always been her folks’ parental style anyway, from forced homeschool to throwing her mentor onto her.
she picks up something, crackling in her ear and its a 911 call it seems, she follows the address given in a blur of orange and blue, a streak of color against the monotone of the cityscape. it doesn’t take her long to get to her destination either, people are already spilling from the door of the bar to get out the way. from the outside of the building, she can see a multitude of rabid discharges that’s nothing of a normal human level. but she isn’t surprised. she wouldn’t have been jefferson pierce’s daughter if she hadn’t thoroughly investigated the new city she intruded upon, along with help from gambit piecing together information on the dreadhead boy-wonder. the boy with abilities like her own, her father as well — almost rung up her father to see if he had anything to share with her.
this, however, is not what she expected to see. not what the news articles had reported of dakota’s own prized hero and the praises he received from civilians, from law enforcement alike. the brutality of hit after hit, scattered, unconscious bodies littering the floor inside of the club, did not fit that vigilante she read about. never believe what you read on the internet and all that bs she guesses. it’s a goddamn mess in here. there’s a song still audible in the background when she steps across the threshold, faintly recognizes it as quiet storm. one of the crumbled men on the floor reaches out at her and she rolls her eyes quietly to herself before stepping over the outstretched arm.
‘ hey, boy! ’ he doesn’t turn around at the shout and jennifer chooses to get more aggressive with her approach to grasp his attention, raising her arms as she lets enough bolts fly to send him crashing onto the floor. she crosses her arms over chest, tilting her head. a scoff leaves her lips when he speaks, insults flying with a singe of patronizing. burnbright. mountain dew. ‘ that’s me ... the ‘chick’. seems to me like you love to hear yourself speak ... static? is that it? never heard of you though, unfortunately. ’ the forged sarcasm in her voice comes easy, a careless shrug added for emphasis. ‘ they’ve had enough and you’re done here. ’ she turns her hand over, a crackling burst stretching from an opened palm, a warning and a threat all wrapped in one.
