Title: Steam Powered Static
Rating: T for Teen
Author: Ctrl_Issue
Author's Note: I wanted to do a steam punk version of Static Shock, so here it is. I'm doing this strictly due to my own whimsy, so it might not be as tight as some of my other works. Not sure if there are gong to be any pairings just yet, I've got a pretty gen plotline right now, though that is subject to change, but I still hope it entertains you. Unbeta'd.
Chapter Word Count (including header): 5000
Chapter 01
"Why do I have to do this, again?" Virgil asked as he fussed with his cravat, tying a stylish bow that would fit just within the collar of his vest.
"We're there to show our support for Daddy," Sharon said as she watched him, making sure he looked as proper as she could make him. Since their mother had been murdered, she had taken on the role of Alpha Female of the house very seriously. Much too seriously for Virgil's state of mind.
At the same time, Sharon had not married yet, and was still young. For tonight's party, she wore a beautifully intricate cream dress that hung to just below her ankles, though her shoulders and neck were left bare. The hand stitched gold brocade on her corset remained a great source of pride for her as it followed a leaf and vine type pattern. Her hair remained up, though tonight it sparkled with pins and jewels.
"And, again, I ask, why do -I- have to do this?" Virgil muttered as he looked around for his pocket watch.
"Because it'll be good practice for when you become a real man and have to run a business," Sharon retorted.
Virgil snorted at that.
"What else would you do with yourself?" Sharon asked. "Become a midshipman?"
"Maybe just be a scholar?" Virgil asked in return.
"You can't be a student forever," Sharon said as she shook her head. She stalked toward him with a rustle of petticoats and skirts and far too much fabric, before reaching over and straightening both the vest and the cravat before fiddling with his cummerbund. Unlike her colors of gold and cream, he wore a darker suit with a cream shirt and cravat, accentuated with a purple cummerbund and neck pin. "You're too impatient for it, and you'll get tired of people telling you what's what and what to do. You're going to want to get out there and DO things with your life. Just wait and see."
"As you say," Virgil sighed. He turned his head to look away from her and eyed the stack of books on his desk. They were all decidedly science based, but only the top one was science fact. He ran a hand through his dreads before tying them back with a loose band so that the thick locks sat at the back of his neck.
"Come on, it might be fun," Sharon said with obviously forced cheerfulness. "I bet Miss Frieda will be there."
Virgil pursed his lips as he narrowed his eyes at his sister. "You do realize that she's just a friend, right?"
"A very good FEMALE friend who is very smart, and pretty, and has a good family. Yes?"
Virgil sighed in exasperation. "I cannot believe you're trying to play matchmaker with me when YOU don't even have a suitor."
"Yes, well, maybe I'll find someone suitable tonight at the party."
"And maybe pigs will fly," Virgil muttered to himself as he grabbed his hat. The two of them headed downstairs where their father was already waiting for them.
"I see you two are finally ready," Mr. Hawkins said as he watched them come down the staircase.
"Sorry about the delay, Daddy," Sharon smiled.
"Not to worry, sweetheart," Mr. Hawkins reassured her as he reached for her hands. He kissed her on the cheeks. "You are looking especially lovely tonight."
"Thank you," she said, her smile brightening considerably.
Turning, the patron of the family opened the door and ushered his two children out.
Recent rain had saturated most of the cobblestones of the street, and there were little streams of water that ran and pooled between the well-worn rocks. The early evening breeze drifted around them, whispering of the coming fall. Their booted and heeled shoes made soft click-clack noises as they walked down the pavement towards the downtown. They were scheduled to meet up with some friends before renting a carriage to head to their destination.
"It's going to be a lovely evening," Sharon commented as she walked between her two male companions.
"Hopefully, it will prove an interesting one as well." Virgil commented as he looked at others who seemed to be dressed up and heading in the same direction as them.
"With all the construction and digging up of streets that Mr. Alva has done recently, I hope whatever he has planned succeeds. It would be a shame if it were to somehow fail after all the time and effort he has put into this… surprise." Mr. Hawkins said.
"Do you have any idea what his plans are?" Sharon asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. "I've asked just about everyone I know, and no one knows. Or, if they do know, they're keeping it a better secret than is normal."
"I have my theories," Mr. Hawkins told her, a small, sly smile appearing below his mustache. "But we will be finding out soon enough, so why spoil the surprise with unfounded conjecture?"
"If it's coming from you, Daddy, it isn't going to be unfounded." Sharon retorted mildly.
Soon enough, they met up with Dr. Todd and his wife, who were old family friends.
"My, my, my, Mrs. Todd, you are looking radiant tonight," Mr. Hawkins said as he took her aged, gloved hand in his and kissed her on each cheek.
"And you are a poor flatterer," she chuckled.
"Now, Martha, he's only telling the truth," her husband smiled at her. He then turned his eyes to the two Hawkins children, for to him they would always be children no matter their age. "Miss Sharon, you do have a club or some form of weapon tonight, don't you?"
"Pardon?"
"You're going to need it to beat back the boys with something." He said, a smirk causing his lips to twitch. "If they get a hold of your hands… no telling if they'll ever let go!"
"They'll only need to hear her talk to know to back off," Virgil replied wryly, neatly ducking his head to miss her swat at him.
The adults laughed at their antics, but soon enough were hailing down a carriage to take them to the heart of Dakota and the awaiting festivities. Virgil opted to sit up front with the driver, which not only gave him the opportunity to get away from his sister so that she couldn't embarrass him in front of the other adults anymore, but also allowed everyone in the carriage to have enough room to be comfortable. As the horse pulled the carriage along, Virgil took the opportunity to look out over the city.
"You know, used to be, this place was flooded with businesses and people. Little shops here and there, and people coming in from the countryside all the time to sell off their wares," the driver said, striking up a conversation with him. He was an older man with ruddy colored skin and pale silver hair. He wore the same attire that every carriage driver seemed to wear, which consisted of a dark blue jacket and top hat, and dark blue pants. The boots were highly polished, though, and this driver seemed a bit more put together than some that Virgil had ridden with. "Sad that the flood's receded and everyone's moving on."
"Agreed," Virgil nodded. They passed empty building after empty building; some places where boutiques used to be and others where people used to live. Some still had signs up, though the businesses had long since left the area. Sadly, it seemed the only establishments that were doing well were the bars and the churches, and there was no telling if it was because the two recycled the other's patrons or if they had separate clientele. "I heard that it was going to be the next New York or Detroit as a model of industry right before the riots."
"It had the potential," the driver nodded. "Pity that the riots happened when they did."
"Pity that they happened at all," Virgil said. Breaking all the rules of propriety, rules he hadn't enjoyed since his mother left them, the young man admitted, "I lost my mom on the second day."
"Ahh, I'm sorry," the driver said, a light tip of his hat. "I lost my two brothers and my son. Not on the same day, but I'm not sure that would have made much of a difference as it just drug out the pain all the longer."
"I'm sorry," Virgil whispered, his throat tight with the pain of loss.
"My Virginia, though, she blossomed during it," the driver informed him with a sad shake of his head. "The rest of us, we were falling apart, just like the city, but her? She was a right spitfire, taking charge, making sure things got done and… everything."
"Yeah?" Virgil asked, only slightly curious.
"Indeed. Adversity can breed the kind of strength that most of us can only dream of. Challenge and pain gives us heroes."
"Heroes, huh?" Virgil smiled, bright white against his dark skin. "Your Virginia… what is she doing now?"
"Oh, she is now in charge of disaster readiness here in Dakota. Smart girl, her, making a career out of that horrible moment in time. She went to school, you know. School, then more school, then she got a place in the police department. Now she's in charge of something else. Beautiful girl. She's also got me four beautiful grandkids."
Virgil smiled at what was obviously a very proud Papa turned Grandpapa. "Seems to be awful busy."
"She is, but that's what family is for." The driver said with a shrug. "We take care of each other when things get a bit too much."
"By the way, my name is Virgil Hawkins." Virgil told him as he held out his hand.
"The name is Thomas LaMarr," the driver said with a smile as he shook the youth's hand.
The two continued to chat as they made their way towards the center of Dakota.
"So, I take it you and yours are headed to the big hullabalue down by the Clock Tower?"
"Yeah," Virgil sighed.
"And you don't want to go?"
"Well, it's just… I could think of a dozen other things I would rather be doing than going there and listening to a bunch of boring speeches."
"I hear there's going to be something really wonderful going to be revealed tonight from Mr. Alva. Something to bring in business and bring some prosperity back to this place."
"Yeah, I've heard that, too," Virgil nodded. "But talk is talk, and it's a story I've heard before about other supposedly great men."
Eventually, they arrived, and disembarked from the carriage. Mr. Hawkins paid for the ride while everyone else adjusted his or her clothing. Virgil waved to Mr. LaMarr as the driver clicked his tongue to get his horse back onto the street to pick up another faire.
The park in front of the clock tower was roped off with sentries dotted every so often to provide security for the well-to-do that weren't used to coming to this part of the city. Inside the sectioned off area, there were decorations, tables, and people everywhere. Sharon and Virgil shared a look at the soft sound of a live band floating through the air, the trumpeter playing a lively tune meant for dancing. With unspoken coordination, the five of them produced their invitations for the guard post closest to them. With a brief nod of his head, the security guards checked their names against a list and then admitted them into the cordoned off area.
They stayed along the pavement path that meandered the park, mindful that the rain had also gotten the grass wet, and therefore had a higher likelihood of staining the ladies' dresses. Once inside, they moved towards the stage where the band continued to play, the music getting louder and more accompanied as they approached. Virgil looked around, watching more of the people gathered around than where they were going. Everyone seemed to be dressed up for this occasion, with finery on easy display, and there was the over riding sense of security with as many sentries and officers around to make sure that the finery stayed with its proper owners.
"Appetizers?" A familiar voice asked.
Virgil spun around quickly, a wide smile on his face. "Richie!"
"Yo, V!" the blond replied with an equally wide smile. He held a silver platter in his hand, and was wearing what looked to be a very nice, and very borrowed, suit. His blond hair was slicked back, as if that would be enough to give him a more grown up image. "Fancy meeting you here."
"Richie," Sharon snickered as she took one of the napkins and bite-sized sandwiches, not bothering to use a more formal name for someone she considered a younger brother. "I didn't know you were working as a server."
"Eh, I am for tonight," the young man said with a blush.
Virgil had known Richie for most of his life, as Richie's mother used to be their housekeeper until her husband demanded that she stay at home and keep to their own house. She often brought her son with her, as there was no one else to watch him, and she didn't want to leave him alone. As such, Virgil's mom used to tutor both of the two young men before Virgil was sent off to a proper school and Richie… Richie was left to fend for himself until he was old enough to work at a proper job. Virgil well remembered Richie sneaking over to have his mom teach him more things, and to have a look at Virgil's homework as well.
Dr. Todd and his wife declined the offering even as someone in the distance caught there attention. With a small bow of their heads, they headed over towards their other friends, leaving the Hawkins family to talk with their waiter.
Virgil snagged one of the sandwiches for himself as Richie looked around.
"So, Richie, how are you?" Mr. Hawkins asked.
"I'm doing okay, Mr. H." Richie answered, a wry grin spread across his features. "Been working at a printing press for the past few months, and delivering papers in the morning."
"You still keeping up with your readings?"
Richie looked over to Virgil and the two shared a secret smile. "Yes, sir. I'm reading as many books as I can get a hold of. My library card is practically worn out from it."
"That's good," though the older male suspected that not all of those books were all that educational. "Might I ask why you're a server tonight if you are working with the printing presses so often that you can't come and visit with us?"
"Oh, well…" Richie laughed nervously, "I, uhm, heard that something really interesting was going to be going on tonight, so I got in contact with someone who knows someone to get the server gig tonight, so that I could see it for myself."
"Always so curious, huh?" Sharon asked, a kind smile curving her features as she remembered some of the tutoring sessions.
"Well, what can I say? If I don't investigate, I'll never know the truth," Richie said, glancing over his shoulder again, making sure that no one was trying to get his attention. "Mom said that if I saw you guys tonight, I was supposed to pass along her greetings."
"Thank you, and you make sure to give her our love as well," Sharon said happily. "And how is she doing, anyway?"
"She's… been happier, but she's content since Dad is happy having her home."
"And you? How do you feel about her being home?"
"I think the same as I've ever thought, she was happier taking care of other people than she is taking care of our house, but…" Richie shrugged. "Not for me to decide her future. I can only try and work out mine."
"Well, if she ever wants to come back to work for us, she is more than welcome," Mr. Hawkins said quietly. Cautiously, he added, "And if she needed a place to stay, I'm sure we could arrange that as well."
Richie flushed crimson and gave a deeper bow than was normal between him and the family. "Thank you, sir. I'll… I'll be sure to tell her."
"You do that," Mr. Hawkins said. A motion from a near-by crowd caught his attention, and he smiled at the three younger people before tipping his hat at them. "Now, if you don't mind, I have some schmoozing to do."
"So, who's the band?" Sharon asked as she eyed the entertainers.
There were five musicians wearing what could only be described as uniforms on the stage, each with chairs, though the lead trumpet player preferred to stand up for his solos. There was a podium off to the side ready to be moved to the front and center position once whomever was in charged decided it was time. There were also a string of unlit lanterns dangling over the stage, back towards the new, unlit lampposts, and over to what could only be considered the dance floor.
"Oh, that's the Rubber Band," Richie told her, unsure why she suddenly had an interest in jazz when she'd always proclaimed more interest in the classics.
"I think Sharon's more interested in a specific player on stage," Virgil snickered.
"Which one?" Richie asked, a sly smile tugging at his lips. "Maybe I can introduce you to 'im."
"Thank you, but I think I'd prefer a more reputable matchmaker," Sharon said with a huff before spotting a group of other young debutantes.
"I saw Miss Freida here, already, as well as a few other people you attend school with," Richie said quietly.
"Yeah?"
"Uh-huh, most of them were over by the fountain."
"I guess I should head over there, then," Virgil said reluctantly, obviously in no mood to do any such thing.
"It might be for the best."
"You still up to meeting tomorrow?"
"New shipment of dime novels arrives," the blond said with a happy nod. "I'll be there, no worries."
"Great!" Virgil laughed. "I'll see you after I get out of class, then."
"That's about the time I get my afternoon break," Richie nodded, more aware of Virgil's schedule than either of them cared to mention. "Meet over by the usual store?"
"You got it."
Before he could respond, someone whistled and called for Richie's attention. "And duty calls."
"Talk with you later, Richie," Virgil said with a tip of his hat. He watched the blond walk away before he, too, turned away and started towards the fountain, which was close to the stage and still on the paved way, but out of the way.
As he approached, he gave a soft groan to himself, as Richie had neglected to mention that a number of his fellow students were people he would rather have avoided. Fortunately, the first person to pay any attention to him was his long time friend Freida.
He smiled as he walked over to her, eyeing her beautifully done green and white dress. He watched as she bowed out of her current clutch of hanger-ons and came to meet him. "You are looking very lovely tonight, Miss Freida."
"And you are looking positively dapper, Mr. Virgil," she replied in kind, a smile already in place but turning genuine with his compliment. "Did you just arrive?"
"Indeed," he nodded. "And you?"
"My family and I arrived a little while ago," she said with a delicate shrug just before she took his arm. "I had hoped to get here in time to get a sneak peek at whatever Mr. Alva is going to show us tonight, but if it's something tangible, it must be small."
"Oh?"
"There isn't anything out of the ordinary going on around right now." She said with a sigh.
Virgil chuckled. "Always the inquisitive investigator, huh? Still bound and determined to become the next Lois Lane, huh?"
"All it takes is one good scoop, and I'll have my future set," she nodded.
"Or, you could go to a really good school…"
"Where's the fun in that?" She asked, her smile dazzling at the idea of being out in the field.
Virgil shook his head. "You know… it's funny, everyone's different thoughts about school and work."
"Oh?"
"For instance, I want to stay in school for a while longer, become a scientist making dreams and fantasies come true. Richie? My sister thinks I should go ahead and get a job and become a grown man and find a wife, but she doesn't want that life for herself. Richie is forced to work all the time, but he likes reading as much as I do, he just can't do it. And then you… you want to get out of school as soon as possible so you can get on with your life."
"Different people have different goals in life," Frieda said with a deceptively delicate shrug. "As my cousin says, different strokes for different folks."
"Miss Frieda," another voice rasped in greeting. "Hawkins."
"Francis," Virgil replied levelly as he slowly turned around to regard the red-haired male who was standing far too close to them.
"Mr. Francis," Frieda said, clutching Virgil's arm tighter in hers. "How are you this fine evening?"
"As fine as ever," Francis replied, "But still, just a pale shade compared to how fine you are tonight."
"Thank you for the compliment," she replied sweetly, "but finery is in perception, and it seems that you are just as fine as everyone here."
"Would that that were so," he acknowledge before a coughing fit overtook him. He pulled out a familiar handkerchief to cover his mouth with until the fit slowed and then ended. Virgil knew that Frieda was well aware of the pink spots of blood decorating the scrap of cloth, but none of them said a word about it. Francis's illness was a fact that they were all well aware of, and if there was one thing that most of the student body knew, it was that Francis's had as short a temper as he did a lease on life. "Pardon me."
"Bless you," Frieda murmured.
Francis took a deep breath as he put his handkerchief away. "Anyway, Miss Frieda, I was wondering if you were free tomorrow afternoon for… a walk."
"Oh, uhm," Frieda hesitated, her hand flying to her throat, which displayed the blush that went from the top of her head down. "I'm… I'm sorry. I already had plans to walk with Mr. Virgil tomorrow."
Virgil blinked, but tried not to show his surprise. As far as he was aware, he and Frieda had no such plans. 'Oh, hell. Did we? How am I going to explain this to Richie?! Oh, wait, maybe this is a diversion so she won't have to bother going out with Francis tomorrow. That sounds more like it. Pity.'
"I'm sure Hawkins wouldn't mind bowing out for one afternoon," Francis fairly growled, his green eyes narrowing at the darker-skinned youth.
"Actually, I was really looking forward to it."
"Perhaps some other afternoon, Mr. Francis," Freida said politely as she tugged on Virgil's arm, pulling him away.
Francis took a step forward, as if to try and stop them, but out of nowhere, Richie appeared, his silver platter of snacks directly in Francis's path. "Appetizer?"
Virgil grinned as he hurried Frieda away. The two of them walked around for a while, meeting with different groups of fellow students. He noticed that, while she seemed to enjoy everyone's company, she always kept her eyes out for certain people.
Soon the band caught their attention, signaling everyone to gather around the stage.
"Guess it's show time," Freida said as she led Virgil towards the rest of the gathering people.
They stood in the growing dusk as Mr. Alva himself appeared first on the stage, his son standing behind him trying to have a blank expression but mostly just appearing constipated.
"Hello Ladies and Gentlemen of Dakota, I'm sure you are all wondering why I brought you out here on this fine early autumn night."
A rippled of amused murmurs drifted through the crowd and Alva smiled at them in return.
"I'm about to show you, and I hope you can bare with me and my, hopefully, brief speech." Alva began. "As most of you are aware, our city is dying, and it has been my mission for these past few years to find a way to bring life and vitality back here. Back to where we can use it to build our city back up, again, and to grow even greater. With that in mind…"
The silver-haired businessman turned to look over to the side of the stage. With a nod of his head, he sent one of his assistance scurrying off. There was another wave of sound from the audience as the night began to fully overtake the crowd, and yet none of the lampposts had been lit yet. A moment later, and the reason for the neglected lights became evident.
Lights.
Every hanging lantern, every lamppost, and even small little starlets along the ropes and decorating the trees came to life in one quick flick.
Where the previous two waves of sound from the audience were light laughter and murmurs of concern, the overwhelming reaction to the display around them came out as a crash of surprise, delight, and inspiration.
"Oh," Frieda gasped, releasing Virgil's arm so she could spin around under one of the many crossing intersections of lights and lanterns. "It's so pretty!"
"It's… amazing," Virgil nodded, remembering some of the same articles in the newspapers, as well as in the dime-books he and Richie had shared.
"I heard about these, or read about them, really. They're electric lights," Richie said from near-by as he looked up at the bright decorations. "They're all the rage in New York and a few European cities."
"Oh, yeah!" Virgil grinned in excitement.
"Beautiful, aren't they," Alva said as he looked from the sky where the lights are displaying more style and grace than the now invisible stars above them. "Electric lights."
"Ha! I knew it!" Richie muttered triumphantly.
"You'll be reading about them in the upcoming paper, so I won't bother with the complicated science behind it. However, I will say that, unlike the electric generators of New York and other cities, Dakota will be unique in how we generate power. There will be no coal burning, no soot to blanket our fair city in another level of grit and grime and garbage. My scientists have developed an entirely new way to power our lights involving chemical reactions that occur naturally. These lights you see in this once abandoned park are just the first in a series that my company will be donating to the city, along with several dozens of others."
A flutter of excitement swept through the crowd at that thought, and for a brief moment, Virgil thought about what that would be like, what it would look like to have more of these differing shaped and sized lights decorating the streets around his home.
"More than that, though," Alva said, overriding the low roar from the crowd. "More than that, this will allow other industries to come into Dakota, drawn to our innovation and low costs. Tonight, I bring you lights, but tomorrow… the future is open for us now, Dakota. And it promises a great deal."
Alva bowed away from the podium, allowing others to talk, but Virgil didn't pay them any attention, too focused on the now glittering world around him. "It's… it's like straight out of a science fiction story."
"Hmmm…" Frieda murmured, the wonder of the moment suddenly replaced by something far more… inquisitive. "You think so?"
"Yeah. I mean… to not use coal to power the upcoming electric grid? That just sounds too far-fetched." Virgil said. "Every story I've ever read has always said that coal and steam were the ways to do it. It's only in science fiction that people are able to harness lightning."
"But Mr. Alva said that he isn't using lightning or coal," Frieda replied.
"I know. Which makes this all the more," Virgil said, struggling for a word to adequately describe what he was feeling. "Fantastic."
"Miss Frieda…" Richie said, "What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking I just might have found that really big, dream scoop I've always wanted."
Virgil immediately stopped looking at the lights so that he could instead concentrate on his two friends. "Uhm… Why doesn't that sound good to me?"
"Because you're still sane?" Richie asked, still eyeing Frieda.
"Because you have no sense of adventure." Frieda corrected them. With a nod of her head and a slight curtsy to both of them, she moved off to find her parents, leaving the two young men alone once again.
"And there she goes," Richie said.
"Yeah," Virgil sighed. He caught his blond friend frowning at him and gave a wry smile in retort. "I just can't help but feeling… this is all going to lead to some massive amounts of trouble."
"Good things always do." Richie replied before heading back to work.
Virgil gave a helpless, unnoticed shrug in response before going off to find his own family so that they could take their seats and eat under the newly lit streetlights.