Originally posted April 9, 2008
((The first story about Chance Thomas, known as Kid Harrier in City of Heroes. He was specifically created for a Silver Age themed super group. I wanted to offer a little something different, so I cast his father in a sidekick role.))
At first, it was easier than he thought. It had taken a shooting at the school. He didn't even know the boy, but Chance held his hand as he died. As a crowd of students looked on, Chance watched a future end. That boy's blood dried on Chance's hands and clothes as the Police questioned him. He participated in the investigation to the fullest. It didn't matter. The police could not bring justice.
Putting on the mask didn't seem odd. He had been raised by Batman, Daredevil, and others, sliding into that four-color world whenever he needed an escape. His father's posting to Japan when Chance was much younger helped establish a firm and practical knowledge of the martial arts. Sneaking out the bedroom window of his mother's four flat got easier with each outing. Bringing justice took more work, much more effort.
The streets of Rogers Park proved a challenging crucible. Fists and feet shut down dealers and gangbangers, eventually bringing peace to that unknown boy. Chance watched the faces of the teens at Senn Academy brighten as he spent more nights on the streets. A blanket of protection had fallen over the school. The students felt safe. Chance found himself able to sleep a bit more, not bandage his hands so frequently. Then he went to live with his dad and things got a bit more difficult.
It wasn't that the Gold Coast didn't have crime. Living on the 35th floor just didn't facilitate sneaking out a window the same way as his mom's place. The kids at his new school didn't need any protection. They had plenty of money, power, or influence to insulate them from the injustice of the streets. He spent nights hopping the "L" and heading north, maintaining a presence in his old Neighborhood.
And then he got caught.
He must have left something out or dripped blood somewhere. As he came in one night from patrol, he found his father waiting there for him. They talked. Chance unburdened himself of his secret, its origin, his obligation; an obligation to the community that his parents had fostered since a young age. His father nodded. His father understood.
"Not here," his father said. "If we are to play hero, Chicago is not the arena for it."
"We?" Chance asked. His father smiled.
It took months for them to prepare. Chance watched his father commit himself to something for the first time; a much stronger effort than his marriage, Chance mused. While Chance enjoyed the nights out with his "mentor," he balked at accepting financial assistance from his father. Maybe he was channelling for his mother, but Chance didn't feel he needed money. A near thing with a gunshot wound convinced Chance that some Kevlar inserts might be a good idea. Grudgingly, he accepted a small trust drawn up to support and further the pair's heroic activities.
His dad had gotten a job quite easily. Politicians always need help getting re-elected somewhere. Chance bid goodbye to his mother, his small circle of friends, and the streets of Rogers Park. Together, father and son relocated to Paragon City, to patrol the streets as Kid Harrier and The Harrier King.
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