Teen Titans Fan Fiction ❯ Lifestyles of the Infamous ❯ The First Class ( Chapter 1 )

I saw the first episode of Teen Titans again today. It's been forever since I watched that show, even if I still write fanfiction for it. So I created this, because I've always loved the villain. Far more interesting than half the heroes, except in DC comics case, because all their heroes are so cool.

Oh, and I figured out my masochistic streak. I spent today looking at bad fanfiction, trying to figure out how a story that nearly made me gag got fourteen reviews in the first chapter ((only one of the said “you should delete this” and they didn't even spell delete correctly)) and I just couldn't stop. Please, help me weed out bad fanfiction. It made me want to stab myself, or throw up, or something.

 

Lifestyles of the Infamous

First Class: Fish Camp

 

“This is stupid.”

 

The young women stood in front of the building with a posture of pure disdain. It looked odd to anyone passing by. A girl with ashen skin and neon pink hair standing before the gothic exterior of an old church. She looked like a runaway with the duffel bag at her side. She stared up at the stain glass windows with curiosity and annoyance, as if it was too much to even stand in front of the ugly thing.

 

“Why am I even here?”

 

“You're here because you got a letter,” said a voice, and she jumped, pulling herself into a defensive stance. She looked around and all she saw was an elderly woman in a grey business suit. Her snow white hair was pulled back into a neat bun, and she held a notebook in her arms. Her gaze was a casual one, as if she had just happened across such a place. “Jinx is what you go by?”

 

The teenager stared at her, a confused expression on her face. “Yeah.” She turned to fully face the woman. She remembered the letter. It was still in her pocket. Only a week ago, a mysterious sender had sent a note telling her he had a proposition for her, a way to harness her powers and use them for her own purposes.

 

The woman nodded. “Do you have the letter with you?”

 

Jinx brought it from her pocket, holding out the crumpled paper. She didn't bother to step closer, and the woman took it holding it up to some cell phone looking thing she had in her pocket. On the corner of the paper was a yellow hexagon with H.A.E.Y.P. written across in bold lettering. The woman held the machine up to it, and it whirred for a moment until it let out a high pitched beep. She smiled, handing the note back to Jinx.

 

“Everything seems to be in order. Come inside. We can find your dorm and-”

 

“Hold on a second!” Jinx shouted, stepping away from the woman. “Why was I called here? What is this place? And why should I go with a hag I don't even know?”

 

The woman bristled at the “hag” comment but brushed it aside. “You were called here because you are an `extraordinary young person.' This place is an old Church of Brother Blood. And you should come with me because through this door is a way to using your powers for whatever you see fit.”

 

A church? “This is some religious thing? And what powers? I don't understand a word you're saying.”

 

“Don't think we don't know about your powers. You caused quite a stir in India with your `bad luck.' And no, this is not religious. This is a school to teach. The H.I.V.E. Academy for Extraordinary Young People. We teach how to use your powers for your own personal gain.”

 

“So… You mean like super villains?”

 

“To put it crudely, yes. Villainy is a goal many of our students intend to reach. And, with their powers, it would be all too easy. But, in short, this is a place to be accepted.”

 

Jinx scoffed. She'd chosen the cheesiest line to use. The young sorceress had never bought that “acceptance” crap, nor any of the “we can become like a family” bull they felt the need to feed her. She'd spent the last few years in a special prison for villains until she'd broken out and went into hiding. But… A school for villains? It seemed to good to be true. She glanced at the woman before picking up her duffel bag.

 

“It wouldn't hurt to see what you guys had to offer.”

 

The woman smiled, leading her through the doors. “I'm glad you chose the right decision.”

 

“And what will I be calling you?”

 

“Headmistress will do for now.”

 

---

 

Baran Flinders was fourteen years old and already nearing the size of an elephant.

 

He sat in an isolated cell, muscular arms locked together by metal gloves joined together. They were made of the strongest metal, and were unbreakable. His legs were joined in the same way, and his head was locked into place by a strange metal helmet. He'd already broken his bed from sitting on it too long, and now all he had were the dull grey walls of a prison cell.

 

Baran did not care too much at the moment.

 

Since he'd been locked in the cell, he had not so much as moved. Many of the guards had given a relieved sigh and gone about their business, learning to ignore the behemoth. And what was the reason for this detachment from the world?

 

Right before being locked up in one of the greatest holding places for the super-powered, Baran Flinders had watched his sister die.

 

It was, of course, the worst thing one could experience. And Baran had been overly protective of his sister since they were young. He'd always worried for her, and when she had needed him, he had let her down in the worst possible way.

 

There was nothing being done to console the young giant. He was thankful that there'd been no mention of Selinda since her death, or maybe there was. He hadn't listened to a word spoken since he'd gotten there. All he could do was stare straight ahead.

 

It was the second month of his imprisonment when the letter came.

 

The guards had checked it for anything dangerous, read it for any clue of an escape attempt. All they'd turned up was a letter from a concerned man in Australia, who'd wondered about the health of someone he'd once cared for. Giving up on finding something suspicious, the guards handed it to him, already open, since he couldn't use his hands.

 

Baran stared at it lazily before actually trying to read it. Words were meaningless to him, and he'd never been that great of a reader in the first place. But there was a simple message on there, one that the guards had inexplicably missed.

 

Do not worry, Baran. Escape and come to me, and you shall have what you lost returned to you.

 

The message was clear on the offer. Where this man was, the address was stated clearly. He apparently needed this letter to get to the sender, and that wouldn't be a problem.

 

Baran was not the smartest person in the world. He was actually a bit of simpleton. But he knew the offer was near impossible. You could not bring someone back from the dead.

 

Yet…

 

In his lifetime, he'd seen his share of impossibilities happen. What if this man could bring his sister back? What if he was about to pass up a chance he'd never get again?

 

Baran made his decision right there.

 

He stared at the unbreakable metal cuffs and broke them in half.

 

Instantly a red alarm went off. Obviously, someone predicted this happening. But Baran didn't care. He just ripped the metal off neatly and slammed his fist against the dead walls of his prison. These were apparently made of something stronger, or more of it, because it took him three punches to break through, into the night air.

 

He was lucky it was night. Easier cover. He just needed to get to this address and seek refuge.

 

The guards were opening the door. He picked up a large chunk of the wall and flung it at them, using the moment of confusion to get ahead. In a few simple steps he was almost at the edge of the compound. He had superhuman speed along with his strength, and it wasn't hard to slam through the hard concrete of the exterior wall.

 

In five minutes he was standing before the abandoned Church of Brother Blood.

 

There was something on the wall, a machine. The doors were shut, and he wondered if he should just break through them.

 

“Please present verification.”

 

The machine had talked to him. It was an ugly thing against the stony exterior of the church. It was a bright yellow color, in the shape of a hexagon. He realized it matched the shape of the logo on the corner of the letter he'd received, and he held up the paper, showing the machine the H.A.E.Y.P. symbol. It whirred for an instant, then let out a high pitched beep. The doors made a creaking noise as they opened.

 

“Welcome, Mammoth…”

 

---

 

The crate stood there, unguarded.

 

The two shadowy men glanced at each other.

 

“Is it the right box?”

 

Yes, they could see it from where they stood, even in the dim light. “Gizmo Inc.” was printed in bold letters across the crate's exterior, but it was standing there, by itself, with no sign of the mysterious Mikron O'Jeneus anywhere nearby.

 

They stepped closer, hands on their weapons.

 

“Think it's a trap?”

 

“Could be.”

 

Suddenly, a bright light appeared in front of them, and they hopped back, keeping a low cover. The light formed together in a holographic form of a man dressed all in black.

 

“So you're here,” the hologram said, surprisingly clear. “Did you bring the money?”

 

The two men shared looks once more before stepping in front of the box and the hologram.

 

“Yeah,” the first one answered. “Are you watching us?”

 

“I can see you just fine. I could the whole time. Now, how much did you bring?”

 

They brought out the manila folder, closed and sealed carefully, filled with a considerable lump. “It's all five hundred in various bills, just as you requested. We don't have to watch this thing count it, do we?”

 

The hologram chuckled. “No. Just set the folder down and take the box. It's exactly what you asked for.”

 

The men did as they were told. It took them a total of ten minutes to lug the crate back to their car. The hologram stood there, watching them the whole time.

 

“Careful,” it warned. “The stuff in there's fragile.”

 

And heavy, they noted. Whatever the boss had ordered, it weighed a ton. How could they transport this inconspicuously? It even had the words “Gizmo Inc.” written across in large lettering. If the cops stopped them, they were sure to investigate.

 

The hologram didn't leave, even as they drove away. But once they were out of sight, it disappeared, and out of the shadows stepped Mikron O'Jeneus, a.k.a. Gizmo.

 

The midget adolescence chuckled as he swept up the envelope.

 

“Those pip-sniffers were too easy. I could've made that generator for two hundred, less even.”

 

He opened the folder carefully, to check the bills. He always installed a break-down chip in the machines he made, in case he was conned out. That way, he'd still have some money, and the machine wouldn't work for its investor. But these guys had come through to his exact commands. He laughed again, until he noticed something sticking out between the bills.

 

“What's this?”

 

He unfolded the note cautiously, grimacing at the signature in the corner. H.A.E.Y.P. was an organization of the H.I.V.E. He'd never cared much for what he'd heard about them, but why were they suddenly sending him letters?

 

He skimmed the note. What were they trying to do with him? Get him to go to a strange location? What was the H.A.E.Y.P. anyway? There was no explanation on the page.

 

He glanced at his watch. It was only midnight. He had a whole night to kill.

 

---

 

The H.I.V.E. headmistress smiled as her final recruit arrived. She'd assumed they'd all come. Why not? There was nothing to be lost at the H.A.E.Y.P. They would find their dreams here. They would realize the full extent of their powers. And they might just take over the world.

 

All according to his wishes…

 

Notes:

I tried to keep with the comic origins for these characters. Jinx was a sorceress in India where she killed three other people for ultimate power or something like that and was sent to America, who were the only ones with the technology to hold her.

Mammoth does have a sister named Selinda: Shimmer. Shimmer never showed up in the TV show. I was sad. They grew up in Australia before being taken in by a Markovian scientist. Or something like that. Shimmer did die in the comics, but she was later brought back.

Gizmo was originally a middle-aged midget who started Gizmo Inc., which sold to legal and illegal sources alike. I like the idea of a tall-hologram of himself. He is “vertically-challenged.”

This will be the story of our anti-Titans, from their rise in the H.A.E.Y.P to their fall at Brother Blood's final battle.

I wish Golden-sama would update his Jericho/Raven/BB story. I might have to write one if he doesn't hurry it up.

Oh, and about those stories, a few actually hurt to read, a few made me gag, and one made me cry.

Next Chapter: Teammates?