𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐄 𝐆𝐎 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐄 -(ᴊᴀsᴏɴ ᴛᴏᴅᴅ)¹

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞

01.Birdboy Meets Popsicle



═══ November 5th, 2017, Central City.

𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄'𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐒; August Kang is seventeen years old, with nothing but a picture of a woman in his hand and no memory of who he is or where he is when he wakes up in an alley and the autumn weather is on the cusp of shifting over to the biting months of winter.

He's shirtless, shoeless, and very, very memory-less, and it's very concerning in every sense of the word.

And so naturally, he panics.

It starts of slow, a quiet sort of panic that he can't muster enough energy to express in anything more than choked kind of sound that makes him sound like a dying cat. There's an actual cat atop one of the rubbish bins that loom over him—a white skinny thing with luminous green eyes—and August, in his slowly building hysteria, thinks that the long standing stare the cat trains on him can't be anything other than judgemental. He feels judged by a fucking cat, and perhaps that's the very thing that pushes him to push himself to sit.

He suddenly shivers, and this reminds him that he has no shirt on. It's an awful thing to be shirtless in the cold and that sensation is what what prompts him to start spiralling down the path of undeniable panic right there, surrounded by the rancid odour of accumulating garbage in between the walls of a disgusting alley.

There's a yellow bracelet on the wrist of his right hand, and he exhales a shuddering 'What the fuck?'  as he tries to tear it off.

It comes off with a snap that bounces off the walls and flings it away like merely touching it burns him. He pushes himself to stand on his feet, and he glances at the cat only to find it still staring at him judgementally. Maybe the cat is just puzzled as to why a human being is invading its territory. Maybe it's not judging him at all. Maybe he's just a bit mad, really. That bracelet should have been an indicator that he belongs in the nuthouse or something.

He grabs a fistful of his hair with one hand and exhales again. "What the fuck? What the fuck? " He says to himself.

He starts to pace.

Okay. This is completely fine. He's fine. He just needs to remember who he is and exactly what the bloody hell he was doing that ended up with him in this shit situation.

The only problem with that is that he can't seem to remember anything at all. Everything is completely blank and it's like his head is filled with the sound of white noise. Not a single  memory to be found in there.

Quite unfortunate, that is. He reckons he needs those to understand this....whatever it is.

The yellow bracelet catches his eye, and despite his initial hysterical confusion on finding it attached to his wrist, he scrambles for it in an almost desperate manner. His hands shake as he fumbles with it to catch a hint of any writing that might give him a single fucking clue.

And he scores.

The bracelet reads;

Name: Kang, August
Age: 17
Status: Possible metahuman, cryokinetic

"Well, that complicates things a bit," he mumbles to himself, and the hysteria starts creeping back in again. His mouth twists in confusion."What the hell is a metahuman?"