Ok, rather long and slightly boring, couldn't think of names or title, so there. Any mention of Screwdriver is in no way related to that weird prison officer in Doulos' recent story "Chaos Surges". He's a Robots/Force Field mastermind in City of Villains.
"Look at him, he's so slow!"
"Haha, what an idiot..."
"Honestly, he's even crying!"
He could hear their laughter, but only just. The track seemed to be getting longer, the green of the grass turning to vivid yellow and everything seemed to blue and distort around him. The finish line was getting closer; he was sure of it
someone called out a time, and others started laughing again.
Miles behind everyone else!
What an idiot!
400 metres. He couldnt even do 400 metres. Admittedly, the combination of asthma and hayfever had done it, but he was still furious with himself. Why did he have to have asthma? Why couldnt he just be average at sports and stuff, instead of just [censored]?
He had always been clever, though. Always clever. But they hadnt cared about that
it didnt matter. However, this has been what had got him through school, college and university, to live through the taunts. Even at university, where he thought they would perhaps be a bit more mature
but it wasnt to be. He was an outcast, some kind of freak. But yes, he was clever, more than anyone else. Apart from one. The one who built small robots in the back of the technology class, and could cast strange force fields using only his mind, and some obscure amulet. Screwdriver, he called himself.
After university, he moved to the Isle of Wight, where he bought a house by the sea, with a view of Portsmouth across the Solent. He himself was amazed that he could afford it, but his hard work during his spare time had provided him with plenty of money; he had been selling eye-lenses of his own invention to the military they allowed the wearer to see in many different spectrums: x-ray, thermal and night visions just to name a few. The real selling point was that these lenses could also directly transmit live video feed and also assisted the wearer in combat, with enhanced reticular targeting as many experts called it.
After a few more years in the Isle of Wight, he met a girl. There was something about her, something different. He never figured it out, and still hasnt to the present day. However, he saw her as perfect in every way and then some, with that added difference. Over the next 3 years, their relationship blossomed and grew; she moved in with him after 2, and then exactly a year after than, he proposed.
However, as the years went on, he felt there was still something missing from his life. The memories of his early life, always being the weakest and slowest still haunted him, and he had not yet achieved his greatest dream yet to get rid of the ghosts. So he began work on his most ambitious scientific project yet.
It began with the legs. After endless hours of research into the matter, he found a little-used medical chemical that was used to stimulate muscles into working harder and faster. This was perfect for what he wanted. The next stage was the system. He developed armour for his legs that would, apart from protecting his legs fully, painlessly inject the chemical into his legs. However, he had made one grave oversight his heart could not pump the blood round his body fast enough for the oxygen to reach his muscles and the heat generated by his over-stimulated muscles would too great. When he first tested the system, his body overheated and broke down.
He was in hospital under constant supervision for 1 month after that incident, and in a wheelchair for 4 more. He didnt know how he had survived; all he could remember was a burning sensation. He saw his wife running to him, placing her hands to his chest and everything going
not back, but green, a bright, shining green surrounding him
then black.
This did not, however, deter him from his goal. If anything, it inspired him to work harder. He quickly realised that to provide his legs with the oxygen they needed, he needed to stimulate his whole body, his heart to pump the blood faster, and his brain and nerves to keep up with what was happening. He then set to work on modifying the chemical to speed up his entire body, and so to develop the system that would deliver this into his body. Using this new chemical also had another benefit it would also encourage his lungs to work harder, opening his windpipe wider and effectively curing his asthma, if only temporarily. But then there was still the problem of overheating. Well, he discovered this had an equally simple solution. But just adding tiny amounts of liquid nitrogen into the body stimulant, he managed to overcome the problem completely. There was one minor side effect though
Yes, he had calculated there could be problems with the nitrogen and the stimulant reacting, but nothing like this. He felt energy running through his body, and it wasnt just from now being able to run faster than a Formula 1 driver. No, he could focus this energy into strange bolts of blue
well, just pure power. He could also strengthen these, shoot from a distance, he could knock people back with these weird blasts
and even kill them.
He was hurt and afraid; he had fulfilled his dream, but at the same time transformed himself into something
not right. But his wife knew somehow of a city in America, where there were others like him. Other
heroes. He knew he could use his newfound powers to do good, even if he did not accept them fully. They were an accident, but it a good way. He made a decision. He was leaving, leaving for this city. City of Heroes. Paragon City, it was called. And with this new life, he gave himself a new name, not to be remembered as the slow, weak one, but as the fast. The fastest. Accel.
Tada. Phew.
but I'm free tomorrow
well writ! 
