Westbrook Academy for Metahumans: Forums

One week in and Wade was beginning to get settled at Westbrook Academy. He’d started his classes, gotten a feel for the Campus, and was even becoming used to the strange things other kids would do. He barely did a double take anymore when things started floating or the occasional puff of flame or spark of electricity got out of control. He was still a bit wary of these things, but instead of being shocked he now found himself more intrigued. Those kind of sights made he wonder about his own potential.

He’d met a number of the students and heard some of their stories. He was a bit amazed to hear that a lot of them had similar backgrounds to his own. He thought he was hard done by over the last year, but some kids there had it much worse than he had. A lot of them were also viewed as freaks or outcasts once their neighbors learned about their meta-human qualities.

What was turning out to be the most appealing thing to Wade in his short stay at Westbrook was the feeling that he could be who he wanted to be, and no one would look at him oddly. The brooding anger and feelings of being alone against the world that had seemed to dominate his mind the last year were pretty much gone. At Westbrook, Wade had no reason to feel like an outsider and he’d felt silly holding onto such feelings.

Actually, the last week had been quite liberating for Wade, but maybe a bit too much. With a suddenly free future he had found it difficult to focus on his immediate tasks at hand. A few of his class assignments had been missed or only half completed. Thankfully most of his teachers had cut him some slack, but all of them made it clear that they expected things to improve quickly. Wade had developed a schedule for himself in response and he found that it greatly improved his time management. Still, in his free time he found his thoughts always returning to the same topic. What did it mean to be living as a meta-human?

What did it mean to be living as a meta-human?

Wade decided that finding an answer to that question would be his first step towards understanding his potential place in the world. His time at Westbrook was going well so far, but he knew it wouldn’t last forever. He had about two years to figure things out, so there wasn’t really a rush. He would have probably put it off, if the thought hadn’t been so nagging in his mind.

His on-line research into the question hadn’t been too informative. He got a broad spectrum of answers off the net. Some preached the whole “Great responsibility” thing, others played it down and pushed for living a normal life, and a few somewhat troubling sites even claimed that meta-humans were freaks that needed to be destroyed. Wade also found a few sites devoted to the completely opposite thinking; that meta-humans were the next step of human evolution and somehow superior to normal humans, perhaps even the destined rulers of the planet.

The teachers that he did feel comfortable enough asking seemed to agree in their thinking. That seemed a little odd to Wade, but perhaps it was the pre-established answer they were supposed to give to the question. Who really knew? They had all generally said that he should make up his own mind based upon the things he saw and learned, and while he should consider what others said, it was his own decision at the end of the day. Not much help there Wade figured, after all, wasn’t he already doing that?

Wade was a bit reluctant to bring the topic up with the other students. While he was starting to feel pretty comfortable at Westbrook, he wasn’t sure what asking around would say about him. Most of the other kids seemed pretty confident and even eager to use their powers. He really didn’t want people thinking he was unsure of himself, or worse that he was afraid of who he was. Wade told himself that there was nothing worse than a big guy who was unconvinced of his abilities.

Sitting in one of the courtyards Wade reflected on the information he’d gathered so far in his journey to understand the implications associated with being a meta-human. Books, teachers and even the internet had been consulted. He’d also tried to gauge the thoughts of students by how they spoke about using powers. While all those sources were far from exhausted, Wade didn’t feel like he was getting anywhere quickly. He didn’t understand it exactly, but he had started feeling anxious to come to a conclusion on the topic.

He had come to believe that he couldn’t truly settle in at Westbrook until he knew. But would an answer be found at Westbrook? And if not there… where?

Wade hadn’t left the grounds of Westbrook since he had arrived. He did make a trip to the Arcadium, but seeing a mall wasn’t really seeing the city. More and more, Wade figured that he would need to go into the city to seek proper answers to his question about being a meta-human. On the streets, that was where his answer would lay. Wouldn’t it? Wade wasn’t totally convinced, but he had been meaning to see some of the city; so why not kill two birds with one stone?

So Wade found himself wandering around the Atlas Park area of the city. He had been told that it was one of the safest areas of the city, and that it also held probably the greatest concentration of super powered meta-humans, or Capes, as some other students had been calling them. Atlas Park, therefore, had seemed like a good spot to start but in reality did very little to help Wade decide just what it meant to be a meta-human.

He found the various statues to be both massive and inspiring at the same time and began to wonder about just what kind of heroic act was required to earn yourself such a monument. Back in Falls Plain, Wade’s father had explained that one day Wade would have a statue commemorating him as a great athlete; maybe even the greatest that had ever come out of their little town. Of course that was before he was shunned for his differences, now he suspected his name was brought up as little as possible. Here in Paragon City, it seemed those very same differences were celebrated and respected. No wonder so many meta-humans came here.

The costumed heroes who seemed to flock to the giant statue of Atlas had little time for Wade and his questions. Most just passed him by as if he didn’t exist, others paused to see what he wanted but quickly lost interest when they discovered he didn’t have a problem they could solve with their powers. One rather rude woman in a costume that barely covered any of her body suggested that Wade go to a place called Poc-D if he just wanted to talk. What the hell was Poc-D? Wade would have to google it later on.

Wade was about to head back to the Train and call it a day when he saw a Hot Dog stand selling ‘Hero Dogs’ to the tourists in the area. Checking his wallet, he figured he could afford a couple of them and approached the older looking man tending the cart.

“Two of the Hero Dogs.”

“Only two? Thought a guy your size would need four!” The vendor exclaimed as he looked Wade over

“Uh… no, just two.” Wade offered in a meeker tone than he would have liked. He knew the guy was just trying to be friendly but Wade had never really been comfortable chatting to adults. They never seemed to get it when younger people spoke.

“Just two… ok. Comin’ up!” The vendor told Wade as he flew into action preparing the Hot Dogs.

Motion caught Wade’s eye and he looked skyward to see a couple of heroes flying by, back towards the Atlas statue plaza. He tracked their progress until they disappeared behind a building in the distance. Turning back towards the Hot Dog vendor, he found the man with two foot-long hot dogs already in hand.

“Nine bucks.” The older guy said as he handed Wade the hot dogs.

“Oh… right.” Wade responded and was then confronted with the dilemma of having a hot dog in each hand and his wallet still in his pocket. “Uhm…”

The guy laughed quickly then nodded towards the side of the cart where a stainless steel counter held all the condiments for the hot dogs. “Just set ‘em down there, guy.”

Wade felt a flush come to his cheeks and silently cursed himself for not even being able to buy a hot dog with out looking like a complete noob. He paid for the snacks then moved around to the counter to apply a good dose of mustard to each Hot Dog. He was about to pick them up then quickly scanned the area for someplace to eat them… save for sitting on the curb, there was nowhere nearby to sit.

Trying to hide any uncertainty Wade looked back to the Hot Dog vendor. “Uhm… could I maybe eat them here?”

“Sure kid. Not too many customers right now.” The guy said as he gestured to the empty space around the cart. After a minute he spoke again. “You ain’t here for the Hot Dogs anyhow, are ya?”

Wade nearly choked at the man’s words and had to cough a few times as he thumped a fist against his chest in a reflexive motion. “What? I.. uhm… huh?” He asked, clearly confused.

“Saw you wandering ‘round earlier, and watching those capes pretty close a minute ago too. I could say you’re a tourist, but not too many kids your size come here just to see the city…alone.”

Wade couldn’t offer a response. He just stood looking at the older guy, wondering if everyone had seen him in the same light. Was he really that obvious?

“What are you, 18... 19?”

“Uh… no. Uhm… 16” Wade finally found a voice to answer with.

“And you wanna be like them? Kid, don’t be a wannabe.”

“I actu… wait… what?”

“Wannabes. All of ‘em.” The vendor nodded his head in the direction of the giant Atlas statue.

“Really? Why?”

“Kid, they strut around like they’re somethin’ special, but compare ‘em to any real hero that’s earned that title in this city and you’ll see they ain’t nothing. They think being born with powers and stuff makes them special by default. Couldn’t be more wrong, ya ask me.”

“What does? Make a meta-human special, I mean.” Wade asked.

In return, the guy just offered a coy smile.

Who was this Hot Dog vendor anyhow?

“Kid…” The vendor began, the paused and looked Wade over. “What’s your name anyhow, doubt ya wanna be called Kid.”

“Oh… yeah. I’m Wade.”

“Commie.” The man said in return.

“Commie?” Asked Wade quickly, a note of confusion in his voice.

“Yep. Call me Commie.” He replied, then quickly added more as Wade opened his mouth to speak again. “Just a nickname… Russian family name and used to handle communications with my unit. Get it? Ok, good. Now let’s get back to you.”

Wade didn’t totally get it; maybe it was a reference to the communist party? It didn’t actually matter Wade told himself. What was important here was that this weird hot dog vendor might actually have the insight Wade had been searching for.

“Lemme ask you, Wade. What makes a super powered person special? Their powers?”

“I guess.” Wade said and offered a slight shrug. “They can do things normal people can’t.”

“That’s true, yeah. But it ain’t the heart of the matter. ‘Least, not what you’re wondering about, right?”

“I… uh… “ Wade trailed off. He was a bit stunned at how Commie seemed able to see right through him. It was a little unnerving, actually. Wade had always thought he could keep a pretty straight face… apparently he was wrong.

“Don’t sweat it, Wade. You’re a cool customer. But listen, having super human power doesn’t really make you special at all. Just different. Even deciding to go the ‘Hero’ route doesn’t mean you really are one. You following me?”

“I think so.” Wade answered even though he really didn’t get it.

Commie paused a moment then spoke. “Ok, think of it this way. Ya get a guy who is a born athlete and quickly discovers that he’s been blessed with the ability to throw a 95 mile-a-hour fastball. So he assumes he hasta become a major league pitcher, but really that guy always wanted to say… work on a farm, but he figures it was expected of him to use the gifts he was born with. So he becomes a pitcher, but any chance that guy had at being truly great is wasted ‘cause his heart is never truly into it. How’s that for ya?”

“I think… I can relate to that.”

“Good.” Commie smiled quickly then continued. “So you’re wondering, what are you supposed to do with your abilities? Are ya supposed to get yourself a super suit and go out helping the greater good? Are you supposed to be like all the wannabes just ‘cause you have the power to?”

Wade took a moment to try and let things sink in. Something tickled his brain as being a little odd; Commie seemed to know questions Wade didn’t recall asking.

“Wade, what ya don’t see yet is that it doesn’t matter how you were born. Powers or no powers. This is what makes ya special.” Commie tapped his sternum area as he went on. “People around ya, hell… even your own brain, will try to tell you what path to follow. But if your heart doesn’t drive what ya do, it ain’t worth it. Trust me on that one.”

Suddenly Wade got what Commie was talking about and it made perfect sense. Wade thought about cops, or firefighters who risked their lives to save a stranger. Why would they do that? If they sat and thought about it, surely they would see the foolishness of it. But they did it because they knew in their heart it was the right thing to do. It was instinct.

“Being a meta human, Wade, it doesn’t mean squat. Your heart though, it means everything. Let that be your guide.”

Wade nodded in agreement with Commie’s words. How could he have not gotten that concept so much sooner? He did have a lot to learn still, but much like his first night at Westbrook, he found a sense of freedom. He felt he had some control over his own life. It was a feeling he hadn’t had in a long while. Memories of his childhood sprang up from the back of his mind. Running for blocks on end to help chase down a stranger’s dog that had escaped its yard…climbing to the top of the rickety old water tower to sit with a friend who was too scarred to climb back down… chasing off a bully who was tormenting his younger sister, Lanni. When had he stopped being that guy? More importantly, why did he stop being that guy? The sudden flurry of memories and thoughts was broken at the sound of Commie’s voice.

“You’ve got it now.” Commie said with a satisfied smile. “Oh, and Wade? Don’t think too much about all this today, I’m just a hot dog guy who happens to have been through some stuff. Go back to your life and follow your heart. OK?”

“Sure. Thanks Commie!”

As Wade departed for the train, he found himself completely unconcerned with his questions about being a metahuman. He knew he had his answer. He knew he always had the answer, but just couldn’t see it clearly. All it took to see it was… was what? What was it that had led him to his revelation? Was it looking at all the statues, or talking with the other costumed heroes? Why didn’t he recall? Wade dismissed those thoughts, they didn’t matter. What mattered was that he had the answer he was looking for.

A genuine smile came to his face as he climbed the stairway towards the train platform. It was amazing what a walk in the fresh air and a few hot dogs could do for one’s thought process. Good hot dogs too. Wade made a mental note to recommend that hot dog stand to others when he got back to Westbrook.