(Important note: Saberwing is not spelled like 'Sabrewing' because it makes it confusing and makes it look like it's Sa-brew-ing. So, I am aware that it's not the coolest way to spell it. And yes, this story is supposed to be slightly cheesy.)
The night air was cool on his face as he leaped from rooftop to rooftop, scouring the city below him for signs of disturbance. It was a quiet night, clear and cloudless. Just the way he liked it. The absence of wind made easier for him to hear what was going on. His super-sensitive ears picked up every car passing below, every cat screeching on a fencepost, every leaf rustling from the trees on the street corners. He paused in his patrolling to stop on top of a particularly high building, lifting his face into cool air, gazing up at the thousands of stars twinkling above him. Then he looked down. The lights and cars of Katana City looked like tiny dots. The streetlamps were just minuscule pinpricks of light in the dim world below. Katana City was at peace
Suddenly, his ears became aware of the sound of a struggle. Saberwing's pupils drew into vertical slits like a cat's, and the turned them to the direction of the noise. Directly below the building he was perched on, he could see very clearly two large thugs assaulting a thin man who was holding a briefcase. The shouts reached his sensitive ears easily. His anger bristled. He hated people who used their size against those smaller than they. He walked forward to the edge of the building and leaped, the cold air rushing past his body as he descended and then landed on his feet in the alley, his boots making a clink on the gravel. This noise was enough to make the two thugs turn around, pausing in their mugging.
"Where did you come from?" asked one of them.
"And where do you shop for clothes? The circus?" asked the other.
"I don't have time for niceties at the moment. Now, suggest you release that gentleman and be on your way if you would like to retain use of your limbs," Saberwing said coldly.
The two ruffians merely laughed at the strangely-dressed teenager threatening them.
"What are going to do about it? You're just a stupid kid," said one of them.
Saberwing gritted his teeth. "Don't…ever…call…me…a…kid," he said, emphasizing every syllable.
The thugs laughed again.
"Let's see what you got," one of them said, pulling a knife out of his jacked pocket. "Come on, kid."
Saberwing took several steps forward. "You want to see what I've got, huh?" he asked. The two muggers laughed hysterically. In one single, fluid motion, Saberwing kicked the blade the first one's hand and punched him hard enough in the stomach to knock him into the brick wall behind him. He turned on the other and gave him a sharp kick in the face, sending him sprawling into the gravel. Then he grabbed the first by the arm and threw him into some nearby trashcans. He kicked the second between the legs with full force and then grabbed the knife from the ground and snapped the blade off with a dry crack. "Had enough?" he asked, grinning slightly.
The two thugs picked themselves shakily up off of the ground, looked at each other, and took off running out of the alleyway, tripping over each other all the way.
Saberwing watched them go with disgust and then turned his attention to the young man that they had been badgering.
"You OK sir?" Saberwing asked, helping him to his feet.
"I guess so," the man said, picking up his briefcase. "Thank you."
"No problem," Saberwing said, grinning. "If you ever need anything else, just holler. Literally."
The man nodded, and Saberwing took off, digging the sharp spikes on the knuckles of his gloves into one of the buildings that wasn't made of brick and made his way up it quickly, also using the spikes on the toes of his boots to claw his way up the wall and onto the roof, out of sight. Once on the roof, he looked back down on the city, peaceful once again. Well, peaceful in the sense that it was free of crime for the moment. Katana City was so alive, so different from where he had grown up until the point when he had lost his parents (it seems like all superheroes have dead parents, doesn't it? And here I go, reinforcing that stereotype).
Katana city was all lights and traffic and the exhilarating, wild sense of adventure. When it came to superheroes, though, there was a shortage. There were a handful of people with superpowers, but most of them stayed well in hiding. It was no wonder. People with superpowers were regarded as freaks. It wasn't an easy job keeping a city safe with only the help of the police, who often couldn't get the job done efficiently. Katana City was a very crime-infested place, and it was pretty much up to Saberwing to stop that. It was exhausting. It had been a while since he'd gotten a decent night's sleep. He was always awakened by the sound of trouble at some point in the night, and most nights he chose to go one patrol rather than sleep.
As he crouched there on the edge of the rooftop, eyes scanning the now quiet streets, he thought, as he did so much lately, that maybe he needed help. This was getting grueling, defending a city against various evils on his own. He needed someone he aid him. He needed an ally. Or allies. Or maybe a whole team. His own team of superheroes. The thought was really something. He sat there pondering it. It would be no easy task, finding an entire team of preferably teenage superheroes in a town where superheroes were often looked down upon, but Saberwing decided that he could do anything he put his mind to. He made his mind up right there. It was time for a change.
It was several hours before Saberwing finally decided to return home with sleep in mind. By that time, his keen senses were slightly dulled and he could barely function. He leaped from building to building with less agility than usual. When he reached his bedroom window, he gave a leap of faith but missed it completely. He crashed down instead, barely able to land on his feet, and decided not to try that again. He walked up to the front door of the apartment instead, slightly shaken.
The exhaustion ran through his entire body in pulses. As he entered the kitchen of his apartment, he yawned shamelessly.
"Well look who's been up late saving the world again," came a voice from the table. Saberwing looked up.
"Oh, hey Mac," he said, yawning and walking over to the cupboard in search of something to eat before dragging himself off to bed. Mac was a middle aged man with gray hair and a grizzled beard. When Saberwing's parents had died, he had been put into Mac's care because he had no other relatives. Mac had been a good friend of his parents, and Saberwing knew he was the next best thing next to always having his parents around. "Yeah, a lot of bastards thinking they could escape justice were running around out there tonight."
"You showed them, huh?" Mac asked, a bit of pride showing in his eyes. "Wow. Who would have thought little Anthony Wing would grow up to be a superhero? And still a teenager to boot. I'm proud of your always trying to do the right thing, Tony."
Saberwing grinned. "Thanks, Mac. But you're the only one who knows who I am still. Remember not to go talking it around town who I am. People might not like it," said.
"Oh, you know I won't," Mac said, laughing. "We go though this every time we discuss anything relative to you being a superhero."
"You can never be to careful," Saberwinng said, and then paused. "Uh…hey Mac….about the whole superhero thing…." he began.
"What about it?" Mac asked him.
"Well…it's getting kind of exhausting doing it alone. And so I've been thinking for a while now that maybe I would…you know…kind of get my own place and start my own little….uh…crime fighting team, you know?" Saberwing said cautiously.
"I really don't think you're old enough to move out of this dump, Tony," Mac said. "You're…just a kid."
Saberwing bristled slightly. "Mac….don't say I'm just a kid. Don't ever say I'm 'just a kid'. I'm going to do this whether you like it or not. I'm going to show you and everyone else. I am not just a kid!" he snarled.
"Whoa, easy, I didn't mean it like that!" Mac said. "Calm down. I just meant… do you really think you'll be able to handle it? Living with other…um….superheroes, living out on your own, fighting crime as an actual profession. And what about high school?"
"Forget high school. The safety of this city is more important than all the garbage they teach you there. I can take care of myself. I can do this. It's time I got started on my own," Saberwing said sternly.
Mac smiled slightly. "Look at you. You've got spunk, kid. Your dad would be proud. OK, I cave. Get out fo here. Start your own life. You can always come back here if you need something," he said.
Saberwing nodded. "I will. I can do this, Mac. I know I can."
Back in his room, Saberwing looked up as he was passing his full-length mirror. He stopped for a moment and looked at his reflection. Short, spiked dark blue hair, black tights, a black shirt bearing his logo: an S and W intertwined, a long, black leather trench coat, tall black leather boots with buckles traveling up their entire length and spikes on the front of the toes, and black leather gloves with spikes on the knuckles. He was a very strange sight, especially for being just a teenager.
He wondered, at times like these, whether we was really cut out for this superhero thing. Maybe he really wasn't strong enough to start an actual team of superheroes. Maybe his dreams for the future were all lies and he was just kidding himself. He shook off all doubt quickly.
"You can do this, Tony," he told himself. "You're Saberwing."