Here’s part 2 of Silver’s challenge! Read? Комментарий maybe? Please????? Mini-Ash begs you! Oh, and if Ты haven’t read Part 1 yet (it’s fairly short..erm by my standards that is) Ты can read it link! Have fun!!!!!!!
Aisling’s eyes shot open in terror. She sat bolt upright, the sweat pouring down her forehead, sticking to her hair and nightshirt. The sheets were smothering her, her head was pounding, as she tried to wrench herself out of the nightmare. It was like nothing she’d ever had before, but already, the details were slipping from her, like water through cupped hands, no matter how hard she tried to remember. All that remained was gut-wrenching terror.
Her stomach lurched, blood froze cold, when she looked up. Two dark gleaming eyes staring her down. She let out a thin scream, as dizziness overcame her. She was sliding, the world was spinning, until she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. Bryson’s hand was rough, calloused, the skin scraping at her bare shoulder, but it was comforting, to know it was only him. The eight-year-old looked up, turquoise eyes wet with tears, and let out a small whimper.
“It-it’s okay,” Bryson said, trying to erase the usual gruffness from his voice, but not necessarily succeeding. The words seemed to comfort the girl, no matter how awkwardly they were said. He wasn’t used to this, he had no idea what he’d been getting himself into. But now here he was, at two in the morning, sitting at the side of the cot he had made for the girl, completely clueless as to what to do. She could read the conflicting emotions on his face, he knew it. What was he--
“I-I can’t sleep,” she сказал(-а) softly. Her voice was shaky, her face pale. “I--”
“Nightmares?” His face softened slightly, and a glimmer of hope appeared in hers. She nodded slowly. Bryson was perplexed. Now what?
“Can Ты r-read something? T-to help me get to sleep?”
The words left his lips before he could stop them. “I don’t have anything to read, but...I could sing?”
Damn you, Axxis, he thought. Damn. He hadn’t even told Katana about his singing, why was he doing this for the girl?
“You could?” Her eyes were huge, pleading. He nodded. She smiled broadly, and he tried as gently as he could to push her down, gather the covers, tuck them up to her chin. Words softly left his lips.
Oh I'd give up forever to touch you
'Cause I know that Ты feel me somehow
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
And I don't want to go Главная right now
His voice was surprisingly soft, with a slight raspy edge to it. She smiled, closed her eyes, nodded her head slightly to the beat as the gentle melody danced around the room.
And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breathe is your life '
Cause sooner или later it's over
I just don't want to miss Ты tonight
Soon, he heard her breathing soften, grow heavy, her chest steadily rose and fell. But he was already caught up in the moment, he couldn’t break off just yet. He moved into the chorus.
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want Ты to know who I am...
Slowly, he stood up, and crept out of the room.
~~~***~~~***~~~
As time went by, the nightmares remained, but they gradually got weaker, less vivid. Still, she would wake up screaming, often to find Bryson’s face staring down at hers, although these instances were increasingly less common. On the nights when he wasn’t there, she would repeat the song in her head, sometimes Пение quietly but usually not, as she didn’t want to wake him and besides, she wasn’t a very good singer. It would comfort her at night, though, a nice contrast from the days.
In the beginning, every день would have its own rhythm, some so busy that at night she’d fall asleep as soon as she hit the pillow, but others crawling by at a snail’s pace. Gradually, though, they began to fall into a pattern. He would wake her at dawn, feed her a sparse meal--he never forgot, after that first night--, she would take a cold shower, throw on the ragged t-shirt and pants that he had дана her, that were at least three sizes too big, and Переместить her way about the place. It turned out it was еще than just a house, but an entire compound, with a gymnasium, a sparsely furnished lounge-type room, rooms of computers and machinery, and a maze of hallways and corridors, many of which contained rows of locked doors that she’d been specifically instructed not, on any condition, to enter. Although the layout was confusing at first, within the first месяц she could find her way around pretty well, at least through the rooms that she usually frequented. Granted, she still got Остаться в живых in the labyrinth of passageways sometimes, and she never ceased to wonder what was behind the forbidden doors, but for the most part, she fared well.
As for Bryson, he worked her to the bone. Usually it was simple chores--sweeping, cleaning the concrete walls (an act she found extremely pointless, as the cement was practically a magnet for dirt and grime, no matter how hard she scrubbed), washing dishes and shining and dusting the machinery. But gradually, she progressed to other things. Things she didn’t understand. He would send her to the farthest reaches of the massive compound, to fetch a rubber band ball, for example, или a cylinder of a strange dark liquid that looked like coffee but didn’t smell like it. Then, when she returned with the item, he’d set it down somewhere and forget about it. Sometimes she wondered if he was merely testing her, if he actually needed the things she was bringing. Other times, she’d be sent to the copy room, to pick up thick stacks of documents written in what must have been code, because she was pretty sure that y8’fjf}als7ÿç was not a word in the English language, или any language for that matter.
Besides the jobs, he’d do other things with her. One time he attached the treadmill in the gym to the ceiling, and made her run using some sort of suction cup shoes until she passed out from dizziness. Another time, he locked her in a room made up of trampolines, and had her пересекать, крест the room while dodging the barrage of knives being shot towards her from a machine in the back. He’d have her climb a rock Стена while on a downward-moving conveyer belt, jump over obstacles at least two feet taller than her, and walk across a vibrating tightrope ten feet above the ground. She had to run up a “down” escalator, свинг, качели from branches that couldn’t support her weight and would snap as she was releasing her hold to leap to the Далее one, and jump across a boiling lake using floating stepping stones about half the size of her feet. Many days she’d find herself wandering through pitch-black mazes where certain indistinguishable sections of the floor and walls were electrized, или sprinting through the darkness of the compound, searching for papers while avoiding the murderous, нож clad man that relentlessly chased her, или performing some other impossible task.
Many times, Bryson himself would not be present, and they’d communicate through a comm he had set up, monitored by the cameras placed all around the compound. Occasionally, she’d see other people, although they didn’t seem to notice her. There was a sturdy, muscular man named Joshua, who she figured out quickly was the leader, and occasionally a small boy with a shock of blonde hair trailed near him, although she did not know his name. шарлотка, шарлотта was a slender woman with spiked purple hair, and Millie a shadowy figure whose outline was the only thing distinguishable in the облако of darkness that always surrounded her. Usually, though, Aisling was alone. Sometimes, during the pockets of spare time she was allotted, she would take to wandering, trying to investigate as discreetly as possible. She always longed to try some of the doors that lined the hallways, but she knew it was unwise, as every ceiling was dotted with cameras.
Bryson sat in his office, mulling over the stack of papers that had just been spewed from the printer. Reports from the girl’s tasks, screenshots of the camera feed, paperwork regarding adoption. He crumpled those sheets and tossed them across the room. Adoption was nowhere close to what he was planning. The girl was progressing well, he observed. She had steadily been gaining back weight, growing from a scrawny, underfed child to a strong, capable girl. She had a solid build, and she wasn’t fast, but she was strong, muscular for a girl her age. As time went by, she built up endurance, too; altogether, despite her shortcomings, she would make a great fighter, a great weapon.
However, she had her kinks that had to be worked out. For one thing, she practically worshiped him, and her undying Любовь for the man not only baffled him, but disconcerted him as well. He would have to fix that, he knew. Most of his time were spent studying, experimenting. Usually he worked in the lab, perfecting his formulas, but often he would pull her from a task to perform direct experimentation. He would inject her with a drug that erased her memories of the whole procedure, and somehow, she didn’t seem to notice her lapses in memory, или if she did, she didn’t think about it too often.
Aisling’s ninth birthday came and went, but still, nothing much had changed. It wasn’t until about a год and a half after Bryson had taken her out of the alley that things really began to change.
Aisling had just completed one of her tasks, and was making her way towards the room where she knew the water кулер, охладитель sat. She walked for what felt like hours, but somehow couldn’t find the room. I must’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere, she thought. Suddenly, she found herself in a vast enclosure, one she’d never seen before. The walls were lined with racks and racks of armor, of all sizes, colors, and styles, the metal glinting in the harsh artificial light. She shuddered at the thought of the punishments she would face for entering this room, but something about the place pulled her in. She stared in awe as she walked up and down the room, gaping at the endless outfits. On one shelf, fairly low to the ground, she found a row of Форс-мажоры that looked about her size. She bent down to examine them further. They were made of metal, and they looked like they’d cover most of her body. They were silver, with accents of various other metallic colors, and they were all emblazoned with the same symbol, a crude, jagged K. She wondered what it stood for, and why there were so many Форс-мажоры of armor. Why would Bryson need all of this?
She was looking at one that seemed to be built for a girl around her size, the shiny silver surface broken intermittently with thick, taut purple fabric, when something caught her eye. A reflection in the metal.
A field of dark silver, with two narrowed eyes staring straight at her.
So there ya have it! Part 3 coming soon!!! Oh, and sorry this was so long....I tend to get carried away with these things.. I promise Part 3 will be еще exciting, this was just kind of a filler (a necessary one, though)...Oh and btws the song from the beginning is “Iris” by Goo Goo Dolls.. <3
Aisling’s eyes shot open in terror. She sat bolt upright, the sweat pouring down her forehead, sticking to her hair and nightshirt. The sheets were smothering her, her head was pounding, as she tried to wrench herself out of the nightmare. It was like nothing she’d ever had before, but already, the details were slipping from her, like water through cupped hands, no matter how hard she tried to remember. All that remained was gut-wrenching terror.
Her stomach lurched, blood froze cold, when she looked up. Two dark gleaming eyes staring her down. She let out a thin scream, as dizziness overcame her. She was sliding, the world was spinning, until she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. Bryson’s hand was rough, calloused, the skin scraping at her bare shoulder, but it was comforting, to know it was only him. The eight-year-old looked up, turquoise eyes wet with tears, and let out a small whimper.
“It-it’s okay,” Bryson said, trying to erase the usual gruffness from his voice, but not necessarily succeeding. The words seemed to comfort the girl, no matter how awkwardly they were said. He wasn’t used to this, he had no idea what he’d been getting himself into. But now here he was, at two in the morning, sitting at the side of the cot he had made for the girl, completely clueless as to what to do. She could read the conflicting emotions on his face, he knew it. What was he--
“I-I can’t sleep,” she сказал(-а) softly. Her voice was shaky, her face pale. “I--”
“Nightmares?” His face softened slightly, and a glimmer of hope appeared in hers. She nodded slowly. Bryson was perplexed. Now what?
“Can Ты r-read something? T-to help me get to sleep?”
The words left his lips before he could stop them. “I don’t have anything to read, but...I could sing?”
Damn you, Axxis, he thought. Damn. He hadn’t even told Katana about his singing, why was he doing this for the girl?
“You could?” Her eyes were huge, pleading. He nodded. She smiled broadly, and he tried as gently as he could to push her down, gather the covers, tuck them up to her chin. Words softly left his lips.
Oh I'd give up forever to touch you
'Cause I know that Ты feel me somehow
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
And I don't want to go Главная right now
His voice was surprisingly soft, with a slight raspy edge to it. She smiled, closed her eyes, nodded her head slightly to the beat as the gentle melody danced around the room.
And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breathe is your life '
Cause sooner или later it's over
I just don't want to miss Ты tonight
Soon, he heard her breathing soften, grow heavy, her chest steadily rose and fell. But he was already caught up in the moment, he couldn’t break off just yet. He moved into the chorus.
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want Ты to know who I am...
Slowly, he stood up, and crept out of the room.
~~~***~~~***~~~
As time went by, the nightmares remained, but they gradually got weaker, less vivid. Still, she would wake up screaming, often to find Bryson’s face staring down at hers, although these instances were increasingly less common. On the nights when he wasn’t there, she would repeat the song in her head, sometimes Пение quietly but usually not, as she didn’t want to wake him and besides, she wasn’t a very good singer. It would comfort her at night, though, a nice contrast from the days.
In the beginning, every день would have its own rhythm, some so busy that at night she’d fall asleep as soon as she hit the pillow, but others crawling by at a snail’s pace. Gradually, though, they began to fall into a pattern. He would wake her at dawn, feed her a sparse meal--he never forgot, after that first night--, she would take a cold shower, throw on the ragged t-shirt and pants that he had дана her, that were at least three sizes too big, and Переместить her way about the place. It turned out it was еще than just a house, but an entire compound, with a gymnasium, a sparsely furnished lounge-type room, rooms of computers and machinery, and a maze of hallways and corridors, many of which contained rows of locked doors that she’d been specifically instructed not, on any condition, to enter. Although the layout was confusing at first, within the first месяц she could find her way around pretty well, at least through the rooms that she usually frequented. Granted, she still got Остаться в живых in the labyrinth of passageways sometimes, and she never ceased to wonder what was behind the forbidden doors, but for the most part, she fared well.
As for Bryson, he worked her to the bone. Usually it was simple chores--sweeping, cleaning the concrete walls (an act she found extremely pointless, as the cement was practically a magnet for dirt and grime, no matter how hard she scrubbed), washing dishes and shining and dusting the machinery. But gradually, she progressed to other things. Things she didn’t understand. He would send her to the farthest reaches of the massive compound, to fetch a rubber band ball, for example, или a cylinder of a strange dark liquid that looked like coffee but didn’t smell like it. Then, when she returned with the item, he’d set it down somewhere and forget about it. Sometimes she wondered if he was merely testing her, if he actually needed the things she was bringing. Other times, she’d be sent to the copy room, to pick up thick stacks of documents written in what must have been code, because she was pretty sure that y8’fjf}als7ÿç was not a word in the English language, или any language for that matter.
Besides the jobs, he’d do other things with her. One time he attached the treadmill in the gym to the ceiling, and made her run using some sort of suction cup shoes until she passed out from dizziness. Another time, he locked her in a room made up of trampolines, and had her пересекать, крест the room while dodging the barrage of knives being shot towards her from a machine in the back. He’d have her climb a rock Стена while on a downward-moving conveyer belt, jump over obstacles at least two feet taller than her, and walk across a vibrating tightrope ten feet above the ground. She had to run up a “down” escalator, свинг, качели from branches that couldn’t support her weight and would snap as she was releasing her hold to leap to the Далее one, and jump across a boiling lake using floating stepping stones about half the size of her feet. Many days she’d find herself wandering through pitch-black mazes where certain indistinguishable sections of the floor and walls were electrized, или sprinting through the darkness of the compound, searching for papers while avoiding the murderous, нож clad man that relentlessly chased her, или performing some other impossible task.
Many times, Bryson himself would not be present, and they’d communicate through a comm he had set up, monitored by the cameras placed all around the compound. Occasionally, she’d see other people, although they didn’t seem to notice her. There was a sturdy, muscular man named Joshua, who she figured out quickly was the leader, and occasionally a small boy with a shock of blonde hair trailed near him, although she did not know his name. шарлотка, шарлотта was a slender woman with spiked purple hair, and Millie a shadowy figure whose outline was the only thing distinguishable in the облако of darkness that always surrounded her. Usually, though, Aisling was alone. Sometimes, during the pockets of spare time she was allotted, she would take to wandering, trying to investigate as discreetly as possible. She always longed to try some of the doors that lined the hallways, but she knew it was unwise, as every ceiling was dotted with cameras.
Bryson sat in his office, mulling over the stack of papers that had just been spewed from the printer. Reports from the girl’s tasks, screenshots of the camera feed, paperwork regarding adoption. He crumpled those sheets and tossed them across the room. Adoption was nowhere close to what he was planning. The girl was progressing well, he observed. She had steadily been gaining back weight, growing from a scrawny, underfed child to a strong, capable girl. She had a solid build, and she wasn’t fast, but she was strong, muscular for a girl her age. As time went by, she built up endurance, too; altogether, despite her shortcomings, she would make a great fighter, a great weapon.
However, she had her kinks that had to be worked out. For one thing, she practically worshiped him, and her undying Любовь for the man not only baffled him, but disconcerted him as well. He would have to fix that, he knew. Most of his time were spent studying, experimenting. Usually he worked in the lab, perfecting his formulas, but often he would pull her from a task to perform direct experimentation. He would inject her with a drug that erased her memories of the whole procedure, and somehow, she didn’t seem to notice her lapses in memory, или if she did, she didn’t think about it too often.
Aisling’s ninth birthday came and went, but still, nothing much had changed. It wasn’t until about a год and a half after Bryson had taken her out of the alley that things really began to change.
Aisling had just completed one of her tasks, and was making her way towards the room where she knew the water кулер, охладитель sat. She walked for what felt like hours, but somehow couldn’t find the room. I must’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere, she thought. Suddenly, she found herself in a vast enclosure, one she’d never seen before. The walls were lined with racks and racks of armor, of all sizes, colors, and styles, the metal glinting in the harsh artificial light. She shuddered at the thought of the punishments she would face for entering this room, but something about the place pulled her in. She stared in awe as she walked up and down the room, gaping at the endless outfits. On one shelf, fairly low to the ground, she found a row of Форс-мажоры that looked about her size. She bent down to examine them further. They were made of metal, and they looked like they’d cover most of her body. They were silver, with accents of various other metallic colors, and they were all emblazoned with the same symbol, a crude, jagged K. She wondered what it stood for, and why there were so many Форс-мажоры of armor. Why would Bryson need all of this?
She was looking at one that seemed to be built for a girl around her size, the shiny silver surface broken intermittently with thick, taut purple fabric, when something caught her eye. A reflection in the metal.
A field of dark silver, with two narrowed eyes staring straight at her.
So there ya have it! Part 3 coming soon!!! Oh, and sorry this was so long....I tend to get carried away with these things.. I promise Part 3 will be еще exciting, this was just kind of a filler (a necessary one, though)...Oh and btws the song from the beginning is “Iris” by Goo Goo Dolls.. <3
Name: Alexandria "Alex" Douglas
Alias: Nudge
Age: 15
Powers/skills: -Flight (wings)
-Can attract metal to herself
-Superspeed (vampire form only)
-Supersenses
-field tactics
Past: Raised in the “School”. Escaped with other kids around the age of ten, she трещина, сплит from the flock, and went on her own, finding her way onto the team around the age of 14. Nudge became Evil and трещина, сплит the scene, never to be seen again. On her way to freedom, she captured once again. They wiped her memory, having some bits and pieces, she remembers every one. Just not what she did to everyone.
Theme: Everything burns, by Anatacia and Ben Moody
Other: Has a older (creepy) brother
-Vampire form is triggered by anger/rage
The Watchtower
June 4, 18:02 EST
-----------------------------*
“Sorry I’m late!” Flash said, speeding into the room and sitting down at the table.
“As long as you’re here.” Бэтмен said. Everyone in the room was totally surprised.
“Well, we’re all here. What is it?” Супермен asked.
“We’re not all here.” Бэтмен said. “Not yet.”
The zeta tubes buzzed to life. “Recognized: Nightwing, B-01.”
Nightwing waked into the room and nodded at the Justice League members seriously.
“Grow up not like Bruce.” Wonder Woman muttered.
Nightwing took one of the empty seats at the table. Бэтмен spoke up.
“There’s a моль on the Team.”
“Again?!” Nightwing exclaimed.
“But this time, I’m confident who it is.”
The Justice League was startled. “Who?”
“Red Revenge.” Бэтмен said, pulling up a holo-computer of the Black Hero.
June 4, 18:02 EST
-----------------------------*
“Sorry I’m late!” Flash said, speeding into the room and sitting down at the table.
“As long as you’re here.” Бэтмен said. Everyone in the room was totally surprised.
“Well, we’re all here. What is it?” Супермен asked.
“We’re not all here.” Бэтмен said. “Not yet.”
The zeta tubes buzzed to life. “Recognized: Nightwing, B-01.”
Nightwing waked into the room and nodded at the Justice League members seriously.
“Grow up not like Bruce.” Wonder Woman muttered.
Nightwing took one of the empty seats at the table. Бэтмен spoke up.
“There’s a моль on the Team.”
“Again?!” Nightwing exclaimed.
“But this time, I’m confident who it is.”
The Justice League was startled. “Who?”
“Red Revenge.” Бэтмен said, pulling up a holo-computer of the Black Hero.
Name: Eronica Val Huchezon
Identity: Spectre
Age: Immortal. Somewhere around 400. (Appears 12)
Hair: Midnight black (halfway down waist) except for flamboyant blue streak over right eye.
Eyes: Left Black, Right blue
Outfit: Close-cropped shorts, bikini, trench coat, knee-high boots.
Weapons: Sword and heavy phantom chains
Attitude: Sad, dismal.
Powers: Immortality, See the future, touch-fate (sees your fate by touching you), retractable Энджел wings.
History: Eronica's parents were murdered by KGB officials in the 17th Century. She was raped and abused by her parents killers before being killed as well. She was sent to Earth to warn Red Revenge of his final battle. She occasionally fights with him and he feels a brotherly protection over her.
Identity: Spectre
Age: Immortal. Somewhere around 400. (Appears 12)
Hair: Midnight black (halfway down waist) except for flamboyant blue streak over right eye.
Eyes: Left Black, Right blue
Outfit: Close-cropped shorts, bikini, trench coat, knee-high boots.
Weapons: Sword and heavy phantom chains
Attitude: Sad, dismal.
Powers: Immortality, See the future, touch-fate (sees your fate by touching you), retractable Энджел wings.
History: Eronica's parents were murdered by KGB officials in the 17th Century. She was raped and abused by her parents killers before being killed as well. She was sent to Earth to warn Red Revenge of his final battle. She occasionally fights with him and he feels a brotherly protection over her.