Who: Franklin Richards & open Where: The nearby village When: early evening What: Stopping a minor shoplifting incident Rating: Probably PG Status: tbc
It hadn't taken Franklin long to figure out that not only were there no video games or computers here, he couldn't summon any with his powers. Then again, his powers weren't something he could really control or use intentionally, not in his recent experience, so maybe if he practised more, he would be able to make an X-box to go with the super old TV in the lounge...
... no. He couldn't create any video game consoles with his powers. But he was still trying with all his heart.
In the meantime, well, he had a lot of time to fill. He wasn't much of a reader, especially since the libraries didn't have any Harry Potter books. He didn't totally hate school, so he'd made use of the tutors once or twice (the Doctor and his lectures more often), learnt a little math and grammar and even some basic Latin ... but none of it was as interesting as the stuff he'd studied with the Future Foundation, especially without people like Val and Bentley and Artie to challenge him. And every so often, he revisited the wardrobe to see if it had changed at all ... but it never had.
Then there was the village. Oh, the village, and its quaint little candy-- sorry, sweet-- shop, and the "newsagent's", and the "pub" that actually let him enter (but never served him more than orange juice). He'd grown to love the village, despite -- or maybe because of -- its drastic differences from New York City. And it hadn't taken him long to realise ... he wanted to defend it.
Franklin had raided the house for costume materials, fabric and thread and scissors. He was by no means an expert at making clothes. But it wasn't too hard to cut up a table-cloth into a green cape, dye some pants and a shirt blue and red respectively, cut cereal boxes into masks and paint them yellow before attaching elastic bands... Sure, he'd had better costumes in the past, and would have even better in the future. But for something entirely self-made, no powers or spaceships or parents involved? He was quite proud of himself. And perhaps, he hoped, the world would be proud of--
"HYPERSTORM!"
An excitable preteen boy grins at anyone nearby, and appears to be entirely out of his league. "So don't ... steal stuff. And stuff."
Franklin had not worked on his superhero slogans before now.