Menagerie of Steel 1 (Worm/Celestial Menagerie) (Patreon)

I poured a ladle full of soup into the bowl in front of me before passing it down to Tim down the chain. It was the weekly soup kitchen service at Michael’s Lighthouse Church in the dockside district of Brockton Bay, and if anyone in the crowd I grew up in knew I was here they’d be shocked to hell and back. Comes with Daddy-dearest being one of the major heads of the Empire Eighty Eight, but fuck him and all his associates.

I wasn’t particularly religious, nor did I get all those warm fuzzy feelings people talk about spooning up soup for a bunch of homeless bums that were almost certainly the primary clients of the Merchants. I wasn’t doing this for any kind of heroic or altruistic reason. I was here wearing a plastic hat over my hair in a cramped kitchen because it was still better than dealing with the shit at home.

The sound of a pair of hands clapping together drew the eyes of everyone in the kitchen to the bald priest that ran the church. Seeing he had everyone’s attention, the priest spoke, his Irish accent thicker than the soup we’d been serving, “Tha’s the last o’ em f’r the night, lads! Feel free t’ take leftov’rs wit’ ye, Sunday’s service starts at eight, as fookin’ usual.”

I, along with everyone around me, chuckled at the expected swear from the old priest. Most of the people who’d been part of the soup line started spooning themselves quart jars of the soup (no particular kind, there was ground beef, potatoes, carrots, and the other basics in it) before leaving. I didn't leave quite yet, instead helping with the cleanup. Mostly because I didn't want to go home. My sperm donor had the night off, so he'd be there.

As I finished putting away the dishes in the church's kitchen, I asked Father O'Connor, "Not too late to use the gym, is it?"

"Ye know Ah cannae say 'yes', lad," he answered, his accent as thick as ever. "No ma'er if Ah want t'say yes. Anyway, there's some paperwork Ah need t'do. Show yerself out an be safe, ye hear lad?"

I nodded, not looking at the key he surreptitiously left on the counter. Taking it, I made my way to the back room of the church that had been converted into a gym. It was nothing fancy, just some free weights and a punching bag hanging from the ceiling. Rolling my neck as I entered, I moved over to the punching bag and began my workout.

One of the few things I didn't mind my sperm donor forcing on me from a young age was studying kickboxing and other related combat methods. There was zero focus on sport or looking impressive, so I couldn’t really say what I knew was a martial art. It was really a way to fuck up someone's day, providing they didn't have powers.

I didn't have powers. Despite being a second generation Cape, I hadn’t had a Trigger Event. It was one of the reasons I was a "disappointment", despite the fact that I good enough at fighting I could kick the asses of most of the E88's rank and file no problem.

By the time I was able to make myself stop beating the shit out of the punching bag, it was dark out. I locked up behind me, left the key in the hide-a-key spot, before I drove home, having gotten my full license the month before. No school tomorrow, but I had other avenues available to stay out of the house.

The house was dark when I parked in the garage, but based on past experience I knew better than to assume that he’d gone to sleep. Asshole always made sure he was up to read me the riot act for not participating in Empire approved “after school projects”. Sure enough, as I entered the house, he was sitting there on the recliner in the living room, a by now empty can of beer on the side table next to him.

“Erik,” Brad Meadows, the villain Hookwolf and my biological father, growled as he stood up. “Where were you?”

“Same place as every Friday,” I drawled, holding up a quart jar of leftover soup and a bag of rolls. I walked past him, into the kitchen and stuck both in the fridge, which was empty save a carton of eggs, gallon of milk, pack of bacon, and a half empty box of beer.

“You were missed,” he said, still growling. “Next week, you’re showing up, even if I have to drag you there from that shithole of a school myself. Understood?”

“Whatever,” I said, pushing past him and heading to my room.

[hr][/hr]

Monday morning I was at Winslow damn near as soon as the gates were unlocked, alongside a few others who, like me, would rather be here than at home. Some headed to the library, others, myself included, headed for the gym. There were still two hours before school started for the day, and there was a weight room left over from when the school still had money. The weights were shit, but I was still able to get a decent workout burn before it was time to clean up and go to class. It was then that my day took a turn for the sucky.

A trio of seniors in the colors and attire of the E88’s main rival gang entered and took up flanking positions around me. I recognized the ringleader, an arrogant snot everyone called Dae and had been crowing about initiation for weeks. I sighed, putting the shirt I’d been about to put on in the sink and soaking it with water.

“You really wanna do this, Dae?” I asked, shutting off the water and wringing out my shirt. I turned around, leaving my shirt in the sink for the moment.

The smarmy ass had that same stupid grin on his face that he always did, like he was top of the world and the rest of us were ants under his feet. He snapped his fingers, and the senior to my left, a guy even taller than me, stepped forwards. His hand came down on my shoulder, and I moved. My right hand came up, clamping down on his wrist to hold his arm in place and twisting, forcing the inside of his arm to face the ceiling. Before my left snapped up, driving the base of my palm straight into the back of his elbow. There was a wet snap, as his arm broke, the forearm bending in the opposite direction it was supposed to. I let go, as he fell back, holding his arm to his chest as he cried in pain.

“What the fuck?!” Dae shouted, looking at me in shock. It wasn’t too surprising, Winslow didn’t have a boxing or wrestling team and I basically kept to myself so no one knew about my combat training.

I gave him a bored look and asked, “Ya still wanna do this? Class starts soon.”

His eyes hardened, and I pushed back a resigned sigh as he swore, “Fuck you, motherfucker. You’re goin’ down, you son of a bitch!”

I rolled my neck as I reached behind me to grab my shirt in my left hand. I threw it into Dae’s face as he and the other senior stepped forwards, blocking his vision as I did a little hop/step to my right. My leg snapped up, the rubber soles of my boots slamming into the bone of the other unnamed senior’s chin and dropping him like a sack of potatoes.

Dae pulled my shirt off his face and threw a badly telegraphed right hook, “Winding up like that tells your opponent where you’re aiming.”

My left leg came up, and I kicked straight out in a push kick to Dae’s sternum. He went flying back, against the door to the main hallway. He didn't go through, but he certainly felt it.

He looked up at me, anger badly covering fear, “What the fuck? The fuck is this shit, ain't nobody said you knew how to fight!”

“So like a weak man, you decided to make yourself feel big by beating someone you thought was weaker than you,” I calmly stated, as the warning bell to head to class rang. “Shall we go to class, or do you want a trip to the nurse’s like your buddies?”

Dae snarled, using anger to try to bury his fear, and charged at me. His leg came up in a spinning kick, the kind that taekwondo is famous for. I ducked under it and lashed out with a side kick, slamming the heel of my boot right into his groin, between his dick and his ass. Again, Dae went flying, crashing into the door to the hallway, but this time flying through and into the bustling hall filled with students.

I let out a sigh as I bent over and picked up my shirt. I heard Dae giving out orders to other students in the hall and rolled my neck. This was going to be a pain in the ass to deal with, once my sperm donor found out. You’d think fucking Hookwolf would be happy about my winning a fight against wannabe ABB gangsters. Especially when all I had was a shirt and they were coming at me, I looked at the six people entering the locker room, yup, that was the glint of knife blades.

[hr][/hr]

Sophia could readily admit, much as she suspected that he was Empire, Erik Meadows could fucking fight. He was tall, well over six feet, with broad shoulders and, as was readily apparent by the fact that he was using his shirt as an improvised whip and blocking tool, was absolutely jacked. More than that, while he had the strength that his muscles’ size suggested, he was also fast. (A small part of her thought he might even be faster than her.)

Meadows was almost certainly another Empire goon, but she’d let him go if she saw him on patrol tonight for giving her some quality entertainment in this otherwise boring dump. As the last ABB goon dropped, Meadows pulled his shirt on (covering up that gorgeous display of muscles), and looked around. The rubbernecking students (of which she was not, she was studying his form for weaknesses in case she encountered him on patrol) began to disperse. Sophia turned and her mind drifted towards Homeroom class.

“He’s coming this way!” Clements whispered, making Sophia pause and turn around. Indeed, Meadows was walking towards her, Emma, and Clements.

“Ladies,” he greeted them with a short nod. “Might I have a moment of time with one of you?”

“Oh?” Emma asked with a click of her tongue. “I suppose that depends on what it is you want a moment of time for.”

“To ask the most fetching girl in this shithole of a school out on a date.”

There was a long pregnant pause, before Emma tittered, tapping a finger to her chin in mock consideration. She gave a considering hum before saying, “Sorry Meadows, you’re not quite my type.”

Meadows blinked, his face scrunching up in confusion. Any respect that might have built up in Sophia for Meadows died, clearly he thought that he won a fight impressively and he’d be able to get his pick of puss-

“I wasn’t talking about you, Barnes,” Meadows said, utterly derailing Sophia’s train of thought. Emma’s face froze, and her eyes (along with Sophia’s own) widened as he turned to face… her? “Would you like to go on a date, Miss Hess?”

Sophia did not gape in shock. She was Shadow Stalker, she was not shocked into silence by a (handsome) guy asking her out. She was just… trying to figure out his angle. (Erik) Meadows was damn near the poster boy for Empire thug! Tall, (delightfully) muscular, blonde haired and blue eyed, and he was clearly a goddamn machine in a fight.

An elbow to her ribs let Sophia refocus, and she made her decision, “Sure thing, Meadows. I’m busy tonight, how about Wednesday after class?”

A smile spread across his face and with another nod of head he said, “I look forward to it, Miss Hess.”

With that, Meadows turned and left, grabbing his backpack from the boy’s locker room as he did. Emma, Clements, and Sophia hurried to Homeroom. Sophia was (shocked that a boy asked her out) mentally preparing for whatever Meadows had planned, so she didn’t (notice) bother with Hebert.

[hr][/hr]

‘I can’t believe I did that!’ I thought to myself as I sat in Homeroom. ‘Seriously, where the fuck did “most fetching” even come from?! How the hell did they not laugh in my face?!’

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to ignore the sweat that had been beading down my back ever since I approached Sophia and her friends. I’d figure out what to do about the date later, and focus on class now… oh shit, I had to figure out where to take her! Sunnovabitch!!!