TTTNG Villain-Jump City Thread

GothicVampire

Mein Name Ist Lucifer
Joined
Feb 22, 2008
Posts
1,210
The OOC to this thread. And the older Twin lies here!

(NOTE: No one is to post until Unseen and I have given the CLEAR! If you post, we will hunt you down and CHOP OFF YOUR HEAD... All in the name of The Queen of Spades!)

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In the midst of the darkness,
the evil did show
It brought pain and suffering
To those who finally know
And with a twitch of it’s finger
It made them all cry
Yet the worst was to come
Right soon after they die​



“One day, you’re going to die.

“Your life will just end, right then and there.

“You will be no more.

“It probably won’t be pretty like in the movies or in fairytales. Maybe something extraordinary will happen, but probably not. Some people have enough energy to say or do something meaningful right before they die. And that’s nice. But that is uncommon. Usually, people just die. And you’re going to die, too. Some people will say nice things to make you feel comfortable before you die. Others will tell you wild stories that say you’re actually not going to die, but those people are only nice, not honest. Because you really are going to die.

“There are many ways to think about dieing, many stories to tell and different things to think dying is like. But death happens to all mortals the same way, no matter which way they think about it. Everyone dies and is no more. Because mortals are good at making up stories and believing them, you may begin experience dying in a way that may fit one of your stories. But that is okay, if you wish to believe in such mendacities. But then you’ll die and it won’t matter what story you had. When you die, you won’t be able to see if your story was right or not, because there will be no story or person to believe or compare stories with. You will be dead.

“You won’t go anywhere and you will not even stay in the same place, because there will be no “you”. There won’t be anything and there won’t be even nothing, because you won’t be there to feel that there is nothing. There won’t be forever because you won’t be there to feel there’s forever. You will be dead. And you won’t be able to think; “Gee, I’m dead.” Because you won’t be able to think or feel or be anything besides dead when you’re dead.

“Death can happen at any time. Sometimes little babies die. Sometimes mothers and fathers die. And when people get too old, after they have had lot of life, they die. And you’re going to die, too. Naturally or not, it’s all the same when you‘re dead. Sometimes it hurts when you die, and other times people don’t feel a thing. We only know what people say and do right before they die. After you die, you won’t feel anything. Not even pain. But mortals still alive might hurt because you are gone. Mortals who love other mortals usually hurt when corporeality they love die, sometimes only having to stare down at the lifeless corpse before what they believe is “the final ending”. But they were already dead, they are no more. Foolishly, you even comfort yourselves that the being is not really dead. But of course, everyone dies. And you will, too.

“When you say, “I want this” or “I feel this”, you are talking about yourself… Out of selfishness. You might think yourself is being different from the rest of the world or you might think you are just a little part of the world. But when you die, yourself dies and so does your view of the world. So you won’t have a world or a self or any thoughts about either because you just won‘t exist. When you die, you won’t feel sad anymore, you won’t worry anymore, you won’t care about anything, or want anything. You won’t even enjoy being dead, because you won’t be anything, only dead.

“That is why you should love life, live it to the fullest, while you still have it. Do whatever it is you desire, even if that desire is to rule the world. Go out with a bang, if you wish. Or just simply waste it. What you do with it is your choice.

“There are lots of things in life that seem bad, but since life happens since once, and there is only one “you”, live life while you can. No matter what happens. If you feel sad, at least you can feel sad. If you are worried, at least you can be worried. You exist. You are alive. If you love life this way, when it comes time to die, you will be happy because death is the perfect end to life. Life is only good because death ends it. So live and love life… Because you don’t even know how, when or why, but since you’re alive…

“You’re going to die.

“And there is no cure for any mortal.

“And if you are flat-out against me, you’re surely going to die. You’ll be dead. Nothing more.”
Lectured the young boy rather promisingly, and his tone was indeed grave and cold as death itself.

The woman across from him could only stare at him, her blue eyes wide with astonishment.

Here he was, soon to be turning eight and was speaking of such vile and stomach-churning philosophies, let alone had been seen speaking in tongues. It was utterly amazing he could formulate thoughts as complicated as this in the first place. A child at this age would be considered intelligent and completely innocent of such acts, the latter possibly the fact of being under a different influence that was not of their own, but this one was different. Despite his glowing complexion, his beautiful shining white hair, and having the appearance of what could be described as belonging to an angel, he was not. In fact, far from it. Zatanna Zatara knew better.

His golden eyes flickered, shining as if the flames of hell seemed to have been trapped within him. His eyes betrayed his innocence, and with one look it was like he could see through your very soul, finding every flaw that was known or kept away in secret. His penetrating gaze had enough power to stab you through the heart, that is, if he really wanted to. But no, for fear seemed to be his ploy for now at the time being , like a playmate whom he was now sharing his toys with. The toy, of course, at the moment was none other than her herself.

“And if you are fortunate, there will be only a tombstone to remember you by.” He continued, his back turned to her as he stared out the window, his hands clutching the bars through the window’s glass of his bedroom. “Not that it matters, in time those engraved letters will inevitably erode away…”

It was pouring cats and dogs outside, the crackling of thunder was so booming as lightning danced fervently through the afternoon sky. The woman could not tell if it was night or day anymore, the sky was so dark around here and had been so for quite a long time, as the withered foliage had foretold. Not that you could get a living plant near him. Even her corsage had suffered he same fate for it had instantly dried up once she had entered his room, the life that was left in the rose drained completely away, the once red peddled had turned black before crumbling apart. She was just grateful it was the rose and not her.

“Once you’re dead, your corpse will decompose, your remains devoured by the maggots, buried six-foot underneath this world’s soil, placed inside a confined box. You are nothing more than worm chow, who is yet to be devoured by the crow. This process continues on until you are nothing. Not even excrement, nor compost.” He said with a tinge of zeal, his prehensile tail twitching a bit. “Though, you won’t know how you will die. And I will make sure you will be no more.” He paused for a moment as he let out a malevolent giggle. “And there won’t be anyone, not even God, who is there to save you. Not that he ever cared to begin with. In fact, he doesn’t even exist. Just look around. If he did, why does the world suffer so? Can he not hear them? Or does he selfishly decide to turn a deaf ear to it? Why is “The Great Equalizer” still renowned and feared by all who are not immortal? ...Perhaps he has a sick sense of humor and finds hilarity in people's suffering, sitting upon his golden and jewel incrusted throne as he spectates?”

He turned and looked at her, a depraved grin played upon his lips, defiling his innocence, and his eyes almost darkened to the point of seeming like coal, coal which burned inside of a furnace. “The answer is simple. There is no God, only I.” He stated as if he was suddenly stricken by an epiphany. “When you think about it, that makes me God, doesn’t it? I’m the master of fate. Soon the whole world will low and behold me and gaze upon my splendor as I spread my wings, the bringer of the end of all things. The choice is your’s if you wish to walk down a dark tunnel. Because I can eliminate you completely.”

She had sat there for what seemed like hours, watching and listening to him rant endlessly about anything that came to mind. She had been here since early this morning, along with her cousin Zachary. Of course, before upon entering the child’s domain, his mother had informed her of what had been taking place since all this had began.

And it all started when the poor kid was ambushed by the town’s older kids, hitting the child with rocks in an act of trying to stone him to death. The children did not live, of course, all them suffering terribly gruesome deaths, which caused the family all the more tribulations, starting with the fact that the people were enraged by the little demon‘s subsistence. Up until then, no one knew that the hell-spawn had even existed, being that his mother desperately tried to maintain his sheltered life, making sure he had no record of being alive whatsoever, not even the proof of him being ever born.

Or should she say, SHE? Yes, before she was born, she was, in fact, a female, but afterwards, and a bit of an unsettling thought, she was not. In fact, she had lacked a gender completely until she was the age of three. Any normal parent would have had a permanent case of the willies from that. Nevertheless, the woman wanted her child back the way he was, the “little angel” she knew him to be. Of course, only a mother could love such an vile child such as this.

That in it’s own was going to be a grueling task to achieve, in truth, it appeared utterly hopeless. Already, since the first incident, their lives have been dramatically shaken. The magician knew that the evil inside of the child had always been there, needing only the chance to rear it’s ugly head, especially in the sake of when trouble came around the corner. However, the series of events that had followed did not help the case in the least, in effect, made it all the more worse. Not only did they suffer from numerous attacks upon their lives, but all the more disturbing was the fact that even some of the servants had been driven into madness, doing themselves in, right before the child’s very eyes so that he could see. “Acts of devotion” is what the now deceased servants had called it.

Zatanna fought the urge to shake her head upon all of this, this catastrophe. At this point she was driven into a quandary. She had the choice of either trying to aid the family in this situation and hope for the best, or to just do the whole world a rather large favor and try to completely rid the child of it’s infernal existence. Anyone with the right sense would send this reincarnated evil back to which it came. However, the conjurer could not find herself to relinquish the world of it. After all, it was a child, and she found it not in her heart to do so herself or grant anyone else the privilege to do so.

“I’m not against you.” She spoke finally. “In fact, I am here to help you…” She hesitated for a moment before she spoke his name. “…Jullian.”

“That’s not my name.” He stated cheekily.

Zatanna bit her bottom lip at his reaction.

The young demon then eyed her suspiciously, raising his chin up and tilting his head a bit. He studied her and her choice of garb, which was different from her usual choice of clothing.

“Who are you?” He ordered her to answer, as if his personality had suddenly switched. In fact, he actually seemed to switch between voices as well. “You’re a doctor, aren’t you? Sent by this lowly town’s insignificants, the extraneous sad excuse of putrid meat sacks?” His eyes widened as he began to panic, the fear of what he imagined would come once realizing that. It was the faintest sign left that he was still a child, the very child that his mother was bent on saving. “You’re here to take me to that infernal asylum, aren’t you? Want to lock me up and throw the bloody key?” He jumped onto his bed, crawling backwards away from her. “Well, you can’t! I won’t let you!” He spat the latter venomously at her, his voice was that of many and was as powerful as the thunder itself.

Then suddenly, room grew dark, pitch-black, despite having been lit by the ceiling lights and lamps, which flickered on and off as the room also began to quake along with a mighty turbulence. The lightning flashed radically outside of the window, but not even it was enough to light up the room. The books flew from their proper places from the shelves, inexplicably flapping about like wild birds as other objects joined them in the winds of a supernatural tornado, the two of them in the eye of the storm.

The child’s eyes glowed fiercely and his body seemed to have had an illumination that was more ominous than just plain eerie. And just as things could not get all the more unsettling, the floor began to buck up and down repeatedly out of place, a daunting red glow shining underneath them through the cracks. The floor then suddenly split itself in half.

Just then, she heard it, wails emitting from the floor below. She clung onto her chair in response, raising her feet from the floor out of trepidation as ghoulish hands reached up to grasp upon anything they could manage to get their hands on. It was not like she had never seen such horrors before, no, more like she did not wish to perish this way. Not exactly on anyone’s top ten list on “how one desires to shed one’s mortal coil”.

She looked pleadingly up at the child, her heart racing so fast that her head felt like it was about to pop off from massive blood flow. “Jullian, please! Calm down! I am not here for any of that which you think I am for!” She cried out to him over the ceaseless racket, hoping to reach and reason with him. “I just want to help you! Just to talk! I mean no harm! If I was, do you honestly think your mother would have personally requested me to come? Do you think she would trust me?”

Abruptly, everything came to a halt, objects falling dead onto the floor, and the darkness was immediately lifted. Everything had went back to normal, minus the fact that the room was now in a complete mess, with papers, books, and other objects scattered from here to Montezuma. Out of nowhere, just when one would think it was all over with, anything breakable had then exploded into tiny particles, the shattered remains glisten like pixie dust.

Zatanna held her breath, looking around for a moment before letting out an exasperated sigh of relief when she realized that was it. She looked back over at the child and low and beheld how he trembled, hugging his legs to him as if it were a source of comfort. Perhaps there was hope yet for the child. However, looking at his circumstance, an old and familiar quote suddenly crept into her mind…

~Abashed the Devil stood, And felt how awful goodness is, and saw Virtue in her own shape how lovely; saw and pined his loss.~​

The quote seemed to fit the child perfectly. The innocence that once was Jullian’s, without a shred of doubt, was lost, mostly if not entirely. The only hope that was left for the child was if his inner evil was to be suppressed. It was for the good of the world, not just for himself.

“Are you alright in there?” She heard Zachary ask her telepathically, concern laying heavy in his voice.

“Yes, I am fine.” She, like wise, answered back. “No worries, just yet.”

“No worries?!” He exclaimed, disbelieving her. “Zat, don’t think--”

“I’ll call you when I need you!” And with having said that, she cut off their psychic link.

Zatanna brushed her hair back with her fingers before she tried her best to smile warmly at the child, hoping he would not have another episode like he just did. “So, shall we begin, Prince Reficul?” She inquired gently, treating the subject with great care. “Tell me about these…experiences you have? These powers you possess? Shall we begin there?”





Kyrie, eleison.
Christe, eleison.
Kyrie, eleison.

Lacrimosa dies illa,
qua resurget ex favilla
judicandus homo reus.
Huic ergo parce, Deus,
pie Jesu Domine,
dona eis requiem. Amen.




~*~*~*~


~The prince of darkness is a gentleman.
Modo he's called, and Mahu.~

~I called the devil, and he came, And with wonder his form did I closely scan; He is not ugly, and is not lame, But really a handsome and charming man. A man in the prime of life is the devil, Obliging, a man of the world, and civil; A diplomatist too, well skilled in debate, He talks quite glibly of church and state.~




TEN YEARS LATER
LOCATION: JUMP CITY - St. Mary's Vale of Tears Church



It was the middle of the day and yet this ruined chapel was as dark as night complete with the stars that glimmered all around as she walked down the aisle as if she owned it. Which, in fact, she did. Maybe not legally, but well whoever once had was either long dead or smart enough not to try and stake a claim. Despite the many territories of the city and the constant gang fights disputing who owned what, the fact of the matter remained. She owned them all, body and soul. This city was a world of her own creation and she gleefully spent each day watching their own corruption destroy them. It was beautiful, this work of hers, and she would have it no other way.

“I have missed you, my pet. Your screams still caress me to sleep at night, such a sweet melody.”

Twining her fingers into the metal lattice work that separated the Queen of Spades from the girl, she smiled at her, a mixture of lust and greed in her eyes as she ran briefly over the fond memories of breaking her. It was a pity that she had turned out so useless when she was done with her. A bit more restraint shown on her part and this girl that the commoners had dubbed an oracle would still make a good plaything. Still, she didn’t regret. The Queen never regretted any of her actions. It had been so much fun, after all, tearing her open time and again. Moaning softly to herself, she pressed her body against the metal as she wondered, not for the first time, if she couldn’t play with her just a little more.

Oracle did nothing to show that she even knew the Queen was there. Fingers moved mechanically as she pulled threads through the loom and weaved without seeing the pattern. It was not that she didn’t see, hear, or know. It was that she did with everything constantly. Her lips moved, the soft sound of mumbling coming from them, whole worlds contained in her speech, told to herself as stories that she had no choice but to tell. Watching her, the Queen grew annoyed with her lack of response, banging a hand against the metal, her eyes shimmered a disturbing black for a moment before she calmed herself.

“You know why I am here, pet. You know what I require of you. Come. Speak and let me see.”

Her voice was cajoling, caressing, and most were wise enough to never trust it for it never meant anything good for them in the long term. Still, it was a pity that Oracle had no choice but to answer, her fingers never left her weaving as she turned her head to look her majesty in the eye.

“She burns. She burns like the sun! Why does the darkness press so? Let the candle light the path of the stars! You must before she is consumed! Too late.. too late.. not enough. must add more red.”

Silence fell once again save for her mumbling words and the sound of the shuttlecock has it pressed the woven threads into place. Her Majesty was thoroughly disgusted, staring at her pet as she mentally went over whether what coherent information the chit did give her was worth keeping the little bitch alive and, if not, what would be the type of death to give her the most enjoyment. Something with the loom perhaps. No, she needed her for now. She’d had her minions comb this city five times over and with no luck. People were disappearing, but not like they usually did. They hadn’t left and they weren’t on the many burning piles of corpses that always filled the sky with their dense black smoke. She hadn’t cared at first, but then some potential pets she’d had her eye on left as well. The Queen didn’t like her things going away without her permission. She would find them and then she would make whoever had been taking what was hers beg for the sweet peace of death.

Suddenly a creaking sound echoed through the space of the cathedral, the light from outside spilling into the dim room that was only lit by candlelight. Numerous felines scurried away from the opening doors, rushing towards the back of the ancient structure out of fear of the one who made her way in. The doors rumbled as they closed behind her, a sound most would find haunting, sounding more like a dead man’s groan than anything else. It became dim once again, revealing the stars that blanketed the walls and ceiling, a resemblance of how heaven’s alter was supposed to be. The Minster’s interior was also embellished in gold, a work of fine craftsmanship, detail was seen everywhere, even in the tiniest piece. And all but one glass stained window had been boarded up, which happened to be the largest one, and below it sat the conduit, right behind the iron grate.

The small green lady casually walked inside, paying no heed to the cats as they hissed adversely, their backs arched, their tails twitched, and their claws ready to defend their lives. And who could blame these creatures for their animosity? After all, she was no mere lady, but a replica of the Angel of Death, and she lived up to that name greatly. She had the power to make people kill themselves if not by her own hand, using strands of her mystical black hair to slice them up or simply pulling on their life strings. All the more daunting, she was also the Queen’s Herald.

Deathwish was a demon, she had the horns and the prehensile forked tail to prove it. She also had wings, similar to a gargoyle’s, only they were covered luxuriously in black feathers, and her wingspan was at least a good nine feet. Once inside, however, she had folded them away, making them disappear all together. Her style of dress was similar to a flapper girl’s, however, though gothic in fashion, she appeared more like a magician’s assistant with that small top hat upon her head. In short, she really appeared really obscene, sporting in what looked to be highly fashionable under-roos, a hat, lacy fingerless gloves, fishnet stockings, and pair of pumps.

She strutted over to the iron grate, an evil smile across her face, making her seem all the more reptile. Usually a melancholy girl, the grin she wore derived from the fact she had fantastic news, news that only the Queen and herself could find pleasure in. Her Queen would be so pleased when she has been informed what she had found.

She glanced at the Oracle, the woman’s empty solid white eyes never lifting from her object of fascination, continuing her weaving as if it were more a important endeavor. The girl brushed her hands on the iron grate, caressing it passionately before she turned her attention towards the Queen of Spades. She then came before her and lowered herself onto her knees, bowing her head respectfully like a small child in prayer.

“Permission to speak, My Queen?” She spoke softly, her words dripping with veneration for the older woman. “I have splendid news, your Majesty.”

Once she received the okay to, she looked up at her Majesty with an impious tinkle in her eyes.

“I spied with my little eye trespassers of the righteous variety. At the Tower located on the isle in the bay.” She informed. “One I’ve seen before, pity he has betrayed you, My Queen. The others I do not know, but I have sensed them residing there within the abandoned headquarters for heroes.” She paused for a moment. “But there is more, I sense something else…something unlike the others.”

“It was someone, someone much darker, foreboding.” She conveyed in a state of awe. “An individual with enough power to punch a hole through this world and into the next, possibly through numerous dimensions.”
 
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still taunting

A cat stretched in its’ lazy manner, gazing at the Queen of Spades with utter contempt. She may be revered as a Queen, but cats had once been worshiped as gods and never did they care for the politics of such lesser beings. Oracle stretched a hand out and rubbed the feline’s head as her majesty fumed on the other side of the grate. They were like her, both living in and out of worlds. Then they scattered, heading far from the entrance and into the shadows to avoid the sickeningly sweet scent of pure madness and death.

A satisfied smirk flitted over her lips as her beautiful pet knelt beside her. Her blind loyalty was so simple and sweet, even it had been that delusional wretch of a woman that had created her lovely, green girl. This pet wasn’t like the others. She had done so little to earn her trust, but the child had stayed by her side, the most loyal of all her pets by far. And such a pretty pet she had grown into. Fingers unwrapped themselves from the grate, the Queen’s attentions now fully removed from the all-seeing twit and centered on the pet that revered her so. Even her tone showed her absolute veneration.

“Permission to speak, My Queen? I have splendid news, your Majesty.”

Out of all her subjects, this one showed the most promise. If the Queen of Spades was capable of such a sickening emotion, she may have even said that she loved the girl. It wouldn’t have been true of course, but such constant attentions are hard to resist, even for one that expects unadulterated devotion of all her subjects. Reaching a hand out, she placed it on the girl’s lowered head, stroking her hair as one would a small child’s before taking a few long raven strands and entangling them in her fingers, before letting gravity claim them once more.

“Speak, my pet. I would hear your news.”

“I spied with my little eye trespassers of the righteous variety. At the Tower located on the isle in the bay. One I’ve seen before, pity he has betrayed you, My Queen. The others I do not know, but I have sensed them residing there within the abandoned headquarters for heroes.”

A frown settled over her features. She knew the place. It was rumored to had once been the headquarters for an off-set of the famous Justice League. Pulling away from her beloved, she strolled down the low steps to the illuminated pathway that ran to the church’s entrance. It mattered little to her that some others would once again try for her domain. Had not many tried before and failed? No, their presence was inconsequential, no matter the rarity of occupying that place in which they had taken as their base. The click of her heels paused in their movements, a slow smile curling on her lips as she thought of this new entertainment that had arrived. It had been far too long since she had played with some gallant hero.

“ But there is more, I sense something else…something unlike the others. It was someone, someone much darker, foreboding. An individual with enough power to punch a hole through this world and into the next, possibly through numerous dimensions.”

She did not need to look back to know that her dear pet was enamored of the power of this individual. How sweet. Perhaps she would invite the girl to play once she acquired this individual. The thought made her body tingle so deliciously. Her breath hitched as she closed her eyes and imagined the fear that would course through the pathetic souls in this world as her newest pet did her bidding. Still, there was no need to rush. She wanted her games and the best kinds always came when she knew what to expect of the players. Opening her eyes, she gave a wide grin to no one in particular, her eyes bright with greed and a madness that was ever present around her. Turning around, her heels clicked soundly on the stone as she made her way up to the dais and knelt beside her raven hair girl. Cupping her face in her hands, she leaned close until she could feel the younger girl’s breath coasting on her skin. Her grin never wavered as she looked into her eyes.

“Tell Sister Blood none of this, pet. I fear she would ruin the fun and I do not find her worth the bother of destroying as of yet.”

Her lips lingered a breath away from her pet’s own. How easy it would be to take them and her. A part of her wondered if the tint of her skin would give her some kind of unique flavor. Another part tittered at defiling a supposed holy place in such a manner. It did not matter that they would have an audience; she had never cared before with other ill-fated lovers she had taken. Then again, Oracle barely counted as a person anyways. Even now the sound of the loom as threads were woven into place resounded in her ears, unsteady, unwavering. So she almost took the bait and satisfied her curiosity, but then she laughed and pulled away before standing back up.

“I would also have you observe them only from afar for now, sweet pet. I do not want them prepared for attack…. Yet.”
 
“Tell Sister Blood none of this, pet. I fear she would ruin the fun and I do not find her worth the bother of destroying as of yet.” Her Highness ordered, after kneeling down and cupping the death angel‘s face.

The empress was so close, anyone with general rational sense would have broken away from the witch‘s wretched clutches, finding her touch anything but unpalatable, let alone find her presence altogether sickening. But not Cindy. The Herald faithfully remained in her place, perfectly contented, dotingly returning the woman’s maddening gaze. Cindy then imperturbably closed her eyes, though only for a moment. She waited for further orders from her Queen, their breath mingling together in the brief pause of silence.

The Queen meant everything to her, emphasis on EVERYTHING, and like the lapdog she was, she took everything the woman said to heart. She was literally Johnny-on-the-spot, anything the Queen wished of her, she would do. No questions asked. If the Queen wished her to jump off a bridge, she certainly would. In a nutshell, the demon girl was that loyal and that great of a deal seriously fucked up in the head, indisputably suffering from her own form psychosis.

The Queen then finally pulled away from her, standing up once again as she finished; “I would also have you observe them only from afar for now, sweet pet. I do not want them prepared for attack… Yet.”

Cindy hummed a short merry tune, a blissful yet slightly ill smile thinly painted across her countenance. She then bowed her head and said; “Yes, my Queen.”

And after having said that, her body spontaneously combusted; a sure sign that Death Wish had departed from their presence. The black and emerald flames crackled for a moment before they, too, disappeared.
 
Paradox and The Ward



Later, and elsewhere, down below in the place that is called The Underground…

Roxanne idly sat and watched the events that unfolded inside of St. Mary’s.

The place to some extent had been a second home to her, the first being the orphanage and now the hidden world that lied quite literally underneath the Queen’s nose. Not that anyone else knew of it, no one did except the city’s refugees. The Underground was astonishingly a beautiful place, in some areas even a paradise, and was a world made real by the mind of a girl. However, the Pearly Gates was a far way more terrible place and could not even begun to compare with, though, that is before it had disastrously burnt down to the ground.

Little did anyone know, Ivan was to blame for the tragedy, due to having lost control of his pyrokinetic abilities during one the many series of exorcisms performed by the Clergy that managed the orphanage. The place blew up like a lit match thrown into barrels of gasoline. Fortunately, she had been outside with a few other children. Everyone else had been inside, however, were not so fortunate. Minus her brother, who did not even receive a single scratch or burn, everyone that had been consumed by the raging flames had died, some even obliterated on the spot.

Of course, being the righteous person Roxanne was, she wanted to save the people within, despite how horribly they treated them, especially her brother, dreading that the most horrible thing that inexorably had come to pass. Anna could not wipe away the memory of the boy just casually walking out of the burning building, as if he was about to take a stroll to the park. More than disappointed with his stifling behavior, Anna was downright shocked at how nonchalant he was about the whole ordeal. But with one good look into his eyes, she could see how broody he was deep within, and it seemed his cerulean orbs had yet remained ignited.

Her brother had a very powerful aura to begin with and so strong it was rather daunting, a curse rather than a blessing, it gave him with those abilities, especially when producing and controlling fire. Such horrible power was easily set off by his emotions, namely anger. Many times his body lit up like a living torch, though the fire was that of an electric blue, less significantly provoked, which then was like a vermillion sun.

Both of them had been gifted with superpowers, that of super strength, flight, speed, heat vision, the ability to see through objects and more, and amongst these were psychic abilities. Naturally her younger twin chose to become a dark magician, a wizard, while she herself became a white witch. In contrast, though they shared the same blood and womb together, she was not as powerful as him, not even near. He had the same gifts as she did, though a greater deal more, and unlike her, he had little to no difficulties harnessing them.

And though they were siblings, they did not share many traits. Though they were alike on some basis, they were very much different, starting with the very fact that they were nonidentical in appearance; like the fact that he had black hair and his pale skin had a peculiar blue tint, similar to someone who had long been expired by being suffocated while drowning in a sea of miasma, and the whites of his eyes were instead almost black. In contras, Roxanne’s skin had a rosy tint and was the color of spring time, and her long hair was a brilliant shade of crimson. He was also a lot taller than her, almost a giant in stature, while she was a little over average height for a female. As for similarities, they both had sky blue eyes and almost bore the same markings on their visages, along with elfin-like ears.

Roxanne sighed as she watched the death pixie had finally disappeared from sight. The two of them observed the whole scene of the past that had transpired through magic screen summoned by darker magic, a window similar to that of a vortex in form, courtesy of her brother. And with a simple closing of his hand, the window quickly vanished.

Distraught, Roxanne turned to Ivan with a scowl, not intended for him, mind you, but for the ones she held so much contempt for. Though he was composed, she knew he was just as agitated as her at the circumstances. If anything, they both shared the same animosity for the Queen and her court. Nevertheless, she should be grateful since if it were not for him extract her into this place in time, she would have met an untimely end, or worse, end up as one of those dreadful pets of that vile witch.

Ivan gave her an all-knowing look, appearing as if he was not in the least impressed, not even in the slightest. Everything had grown to be quite trite in his point of view, nothing was new to him, nothing ever was. The guy had seen everything, especially since he engaged himself in the Necronomicon and the Grimoire, tomes which he studied, practiced, and knew like the back of his hand. The books were basically lists of powerful spirits, particularly demons, and the dead, and how to summon them.

“They know.” Anna started restlessly, at last breaking the silence between them as she then stood up. “We have to do something!”

“Yes, and what do you suppose we do, hmm?” He inquired sardonically. “Go pirouetting up there and say ‘What’s up, people? You don’t know me, but so you know, I’m totally one of the many adversaries that has the mitigated gall to be up against your establishment! Now, could you please just hold still, so that I may hit you?’ Wow, that plan is…simply brilliant! Why didn’t I think of that first?” He continued to mock for all it was worth, feinting amazement as he smacked himself gently on the forehead. “In fact, since it’s such a failsafe plan and we‘re so itching to have our point across, let’s do precisely that as of right now!” He pointed dramatically in the air.

Roxanne stared widely at him, jaw dropped and everything. Her left eye even began to twitch slightly.

Ivan rolled his eyes and then snorted, smirking smugly at her reaction. “You know what you must do. Any idiot with half a brain would.”

The redhead growled in irritation at him, almost howling at his insolence. She hated how he could be so cynical, especially during these dire situations. Like he had any room to talk, he had proven many times to be more reckless than she was!

Ivan chuckled at her petulance, always finding some form of amusement in peeving his sister off. Not that he found her annoyance delicious, it was just because it was fun and easy to do.

“You know, it’s only a matter of time before that wench discovers this place!” Anna snapped dejectedly. “Then what should we do, hmm? Oh, all knowing one?” She then sighed as she walked away from him, her back turned towards him. “…I fear for poor Abigail the most, though. You know she keeps this place running, and this world would suddenly collapse in the worst way possible if anything were to happen to her.” She spoke pitifully, speaking the truth nonetheless.

“I doubt it.” He stated dryly. “Ace has Danny after all. Despite his size, the little bugger can put up quite a fight. I’m sure he can handle it himself if anyone dares to try and threaten her.”

“Yes, this is true.” Anna admitted, twisting her body around to look at him. “But you know how sensitive she is when it comes to other people. The poor girl.”

“And that is why she isolates herself from everyone.” Ivan pointed out. “So, don’t worry about it.”

She frowned at him, knowing full well that he was just as worried as she was for the girl, not to mention he knew more than he was letting off and was unwilling to inform her. In fact, he always knew. She often wondered how he dealt with that.

“Instead of standing there and wasting time sniffing roses,” Ivan spoke brusquely, becoming a bit frustrated with the girl’s dawdling. “I advise we get a move on before the situation thickens.” With that, he stood up. “I’ll escort you there myself. VIA teleportation style.”

“Kek, you really don’t have to…” She said, not really wanting to be even more of a pain. Well, honestly, she did not wish to give him all the more reason to bicker with her, since that is what they seemed to do best when they were together or even shared the same space. “And what about your gang? Certainly, they must be wondering where you are.”

He rolled his eyes again. “Well, it’s either that or risk being caught seen flying through the air like a nitwit in broad daylight.” He smarted, begging to differ with her. “Besides, I seriously doubt the guys will die any moment soon without my presence, since they’ve managed to last this long without me being there up their asses.”

Roxanne raised a brow at him, knowing him well enough that there had to be a real motive behind the reason why he was so willing to lend a helping hand. “Tell me, wise guy. What’s the real reason?”

From what she could recall, Castella and J'onas had informed her that they had caught him ogling a girl he had been observing through his “magic mirror”, the same girl he had many times informed her about that would soon one day arrive here in this wretched god forsaken city. But it could not be the reason, could it? She stood there and studied him for a moment. Well, his aura did seem a bit different lately, which had a peculiar pinkish radiance about it, topped off with pink floating orbs popping out from the top of his crown. Oh, yes, the evidence was clear now. Though why she had not noticed it before, she could honestly smack herself for it, because honestly did not pay him any attention as she was doing as of right then.

She groaned and silently cursed at herself. It was SO very obvious!

She was so caught up in herself at the moment that she did not even notice that the gangly man had marched up to her, that is until he grabbed her by her shoulder, causing her to flip out the very moment he laid a hand upon her. And to further surprise her, he started pulling her along towards the portal he had created.

“Stop the incessant loitering and get your ass in gear, woman!” He barked, and then pulled her in with him despite any protests that came out of her mouth.
 
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Located upon the second floor of a nearly deserted five story building, there laid a particularly dreary looking room. Albeit a very well lit room, as was often required for the delicate procedures involving various mechanics and their occasional joining with the organic material of living test subjects. In spite of this, the currently occupied operating room (as this lab was often dubbed after being 'acquired' by its present owner) wasn't what one would consider an ideal location for traditional medical procedures. A cursory look around would reveal exposed wires sticking out in one far area, stains from a couple of once leaky pipes which nobody bothered painting over in two other corners, and table with a number of blood stained mechanical instruments from failed experiments lying in wait for future tinkering in another. It was an uncomfortable sight which few would wish to voluntarily venture into for any form of operation.

Fortunately for the 'surgeon' whom stood in the center of said room, the majority of those he worked upon weren't given the courtesy of an option. Studying the fine point of a slender instrument with deceptively complex attachments, Michael O'Jeneus watched in clinical fascination as the object slowly hummed to life with but a spark of energy emitting from the tip. The villain's lips curled into a crooked smile, a hint of glee peaking out from behind the goggles wrapped around his head, a white doctor's gown stained with patches of old and fresh blood currently adorned upon his body. Turning his head to the side, he stared at the young man whom was bound and squirming upon the operating table. Squirming for good reason, as the left side of his face remained sliced open around the eye in several directions, thin straps with metallic hooks which stretched around his skull digging into the folds of skin in order to hold them out of the way.

Standing at the head of the table, placing one hand upon the hard surface at either side of his victims actual head; Gadget gazed down into the man's one working eye as he explained, "My apologies for keeping you waiting, but my associate does have a tendency for misplacing my instruments whenever I require his assistance in tidying up around here."

Pausing for a few seconds, he began to hold the instrument between the two of them as he continued leaning over the man's head; idly waving it back and forth in order to hear the light humming sound this caused, "Fortunately for you, I was able to locate the particular item required for finishing this process. Otherwise, I'd be forced into one of two alternatives. One is simply healing your wounds so we could repeat the process at a later date, while the other would require your immediate termination."

Gadget stood up straight after a moment, moving around to the side of the table while beginning to focus upon the poor individual strapped to his table. Particularly, the shiny, if blood stained orb of an item which was currently nestled within the socket where a blue eye once resided. The young man tried for the millionth time to utter something, anything which may convince the head shaven scientist to release him of his confines. Over the past couple of years, Gadget had grown accustomed to such pleas for mercy and screams of pain; the latter of which he admitted to taking a morbid thrill from, but also found it a hindrance when it came time for actual procedures and body manipulations to be seen through. As a result of this and the hassle for reacquiring the proper sedatives, the villain had taken up the habit of properly severing vocal cords prior to these surgeries. Aside from the trouble of confining their bodies and those annoying gurgling sounds, it proved rather effective in meeting his ends.

"As I'm sure you've noticed, the cybernetic eye in your left socket isn't yet capable of sending visual stimuli to your brain." The scientist continued to explain in a calm manner as he leaned in closer, carefully lowering the portion of his device surging with energy toward the man's exposed socket; sticking his fingers into the bloody section to move the eye around while he began work, "Nor is it making a connection to the heightened vision and weaponry capabilities inserted into the eye itself. With any luck, this should be corrected in a matter of minutes."

Not that such cybernetic advancements were unheard of at this point, as they were fairly common even before his time. This particular model, however, was capable of higher energy projectiles then most and with a self recharging power source which lasted longer then others; allowing for longer use in battles. Hopefully, it also wouldn't overheat to the point of blowing up within the recipients skull when put to long term use, which had been an annoying problem in the past. Of course, as he finished up with the last touches, sending out small sparks against the victims gaping wounds, Gadget understood that there were other ways of testing these features without moving to surgery this early. But there were often complications which could only be found after an implant was placed within a human body. More importantly, it was simply more fun this way.

"Eureka!" The villain called out in victory as the eye started whirling to life and moving about within its socket; the optic lens dilating like a pupil as it processed the images around it and, ideally, processed them like an actual eye would for its owner.

"So, should we consider this one a smashing success?" Gadget asked in an obvious hypothetical manner; studying the eye closely as he poked at it with the tip of his sparking instrument, which was proving tricky as the eye moved about wildly, until he accidentally triggered a feature he hadn't intended to at this point.

"Oh, fuck me." Were the only words to slip out of the villain's lips as he saw a red light switch on; alerting the villain to jump back just as a thin yet focused beam of raw energy shot out of the socket, followed by another which matched the first in blasting a hole through the ceiling and into the third story of their modestly sized building.

While his test subjects head had been properly secured, the eyeball clearly wasn't, which resulted in it turning one way or another; its current owner firing aimlessly save for a desperate hope of freeing himself. For his part, Gadget had stayed cowering under the table, mumbling curses to himself as he crawled about on the floor with bits of debris falling onto the floor around him. His first instinct was to use one of his weapons to snuff out the man's life with a single energy blast of his own. However, as his hands and knees carried him across the floor, the tips of his fingers came across an equally effective, if less tactical method. Despite acting in desperation, his lips briefly formed a smirk, which soon spread into a maniacal grin as he promptly stood behind the head of the table once again.

Clutching the handle of the blunt object in his hand, Gadget pulled his arm back before bringing the discarded hammer down upon his former test subjects forehead; followed up by a number of other blows which were delivered with every word which he shouted, "Stop. Shooting. Holes. In. My. Lab. You. Cock. Sucking. Piece. Of. SHIT!!!"

As he bellowed out the last word, his arm flung the now blood soaked hammer against the shattered skull which remained; the laser having been silenced several strikes earlier. By the time Gadget had finished, his breathing now labored as the adrenaline started subsiding, blood dripping off the blunt object in his hand, it was nearly impossible for one to identify the young man by simply observing what remained of his face. Fitting enough, despite his berserker like assault, the scientist hadn't brought about any noticeable damage to the robotic eye which was the cause of such trouble and suffering for its now deceased host.

Just as the chrome headed madman started to catch his breath, there was a sudden banging sound against the metal door leading into the room. For most, it would be a reason to grow frightened and keep on your toes. Considering the circumstances, however, Gadget merely let out an annoyed groan and rubbed at his temples as he watched the door fly open after a second powerful, metal denting blow from the outside. During moments of stress, Goliath never could seem to grasp and actually hold onto the concept of trying the handle first. As the mammoth figure pushed his way into the room, it became evident he was ready for a fight, only to be left confused by the lack of any actual intruders in the lab.

"What the hell happened in here?!" The larger male exclaimed in a gruff voice, thinking back on their most recent mishap in the lab, which had left a decidedly less gruesome sight as he blurted out, "Did another bird smash through a window or something?"

Raising an eyebrow at his associate, the mad genius let his frustration get the better of him as he snapped back, "Yes, Goliath, it was a bird. A bird carrying a weapon in its claws which fired laser beams. Go fetch me a BB gun before it returns with backup from a squirrel wielding acorn shaped grenades!"

Staring over at Goliath while wiping his hands off on his lap, the blood stained villain promptly noticed the expression of anger which replaced that look of confusion which was there only seconds ago; indicating how he may have taken things a step too far. The muscle bound behemoth may not have been near his own intellect, and could grow easily confused at times, but he was far from what one would consider idiotic. Gadget knew that if he were anyone else, he'd have to fight for his life at this very instant, but he still raised his hands in a sign of apology as he hoped to assuage his associate of any aggression over his comments.

"Easy there, big guy. It's just been a long day is all." The young man stated as he continued holding his hands up a bit long, only lowering them when it became evident that Goliath wasn't going to take a swing; his voice coming out in a more respectful tone as he got down to business, "Look, can you take this body and dump it somewhere for me? I need to clean this up and try to salvage what I can of the days work."

Glaring at his partner in crime for a few seconds, the large male let out a grunt before stepping the rest of the way into the lab in order to collect the body. Due to the damage done to this nameless victims head, they needed one of the various dark body bags which were at their disposal in order to prevent any further mess. It only took about a minute or so for them to lay out the bag and place him upon it; zipping said bag up, starting from the feet, until it closed shut over the failed test subjects battered head.

"Oh, one-second." The shorter man said to his giant of a partner; nonchalantly opening the body bag before reaching into the dead figures skull, grasping at the metallic eyeball, then pulling it free along with a few pieces of the nameless male's flesh, "Now you can take him."

Grimacing at his associates rather gruesome method of retrieval, Goliath spared him little more then a slightly disgusted stare while zipping up and carrying the body out of the lab; intending to head out into the streets and find a place within the vast city to ditch it. For his part, Gadget took a few seconds for picking off and discarding the bits of bloody skin, followed by wiping it off on his coat like one would a dirty apple. Giving it another looking over, he flung it vertically in the air for about a foot, caught it in midair, then stuffed it into a pocket for safe keeping. As he finished with this, a small metal tendril came out of his doctors gown, holding what appeared to be a recording device on the end as it stretched toward his mouth; pausing but a few inches away before switching itself on.

"Lab Note: Bouts of over cockiness while dealing with bound subjects should be avoided in the future." The mad genius stated in a calm voice as he surveyed the damage while casually strolling around the lab; allowing his eyes to settle upon the pool a blood which formed around and under the head of the table, not to mention the bits of brain matter as he added, "Also, we really do need to begin looking into hiring a maid for this place."
 
Emily

One had gone in the church, but none came out. St. Mary's Vale of Tears Church. That had been the name of the wretched excuse for a cathedral before time and people had taken all similarities between then and now from its' stone edifice. She'd read it in a book left in the remnants of the city hall, had seen pictures, and still found it hard to believe that any such place had once housed God. Of course, it wasn't difficult for her to believe in the concept of a god, a supreme creator. She'd been created after all and had watched things come into being all from the same little girl. It didn't matter that her creator was taller than she was now. She was always going to be a little girl to her, especially while she continued on like the place she lived in now wasn't all in her head.

Sighing, she took a drag on the cigarette in her hand, the faint taste of nicotine lingering on her tongue, before she blew the smoke back out and into the darkening sky. She was sitting on top of a building, halfway on its' way down as the other half already stood in rubble, watching the Oracle's church with a wary gaze. What business that queen and the green girl had in there, she didn't rightly know, nor did she care. She'd been here before they ever started being whispered about in this city and there was a good chance she'd still be here after they were gone. These people were always trying to scramble their way up the totem pole and one day one or both of those two would fall only to be replaced with some other bastard full of delusions about himself. Good news was they probably would have to try pretty hard to fuck up this city anymore than what had already been done. Chuckling at the thought, she took another drag off of her cigarette, pulling in air that she didn't need, full of poisons that she could barely taste much less sustain any sort of disease from. Part of her wasn't even sure she had organs, though she certainly felt her heart beating and her lungs expanding with each breath. If someone cut her, she bled and felt the pain of it, but the damage never stayed. It was annoying.

This city was a hellhole and since she wasn't technically real, she wasn't allowed the choice of escape. Once, after Abigail had situated herself in what was now known as the Underground to its' denizens, she'd tried to walk away. She'd tried walking out of Jump City. It was a minefield beyond its' borders, but since it wouldn't kill her, she didn't care about all of that. She'd got as far as two blocks away from that invisible border before suddenly finding herself right back in front of that damn church. It was funny. Her creator was sweet, too sweet for this city, but she'd trapped them all just the same. Every single one of the beings she made got to be imprisoned as surely as if the naive human was every bit as heartless as the Queen of Spades was supposed to be. Emily couldn't forgive her for that, giving them a life with no way to truly live.

Taking another puff, she flicked what was left of the cigarette away from her and idly watched as it tumbled down the side of the building and into a shallow puddle below. Then she got up from her perch and tucked her vibrant hair under a ratty cap before stepping off of the ledge after the tobacco laden stick. It was funny how much one could get away with if they didn't officially exist. Her footsteps weren't hurried, but they were sure as she walked past the church and down an alleyway filled with filth, debris, and a number of the homeless if you knew how to spot them. The latter of which gave her no notice. They knew her face well enough to know she wasn't a threat to what they guarded. The Underground. A wall loomed ahead of her, but she gave it no pause, fingers brushing the upside-down spade on a nearby brick before she walked through the obstacle and down below the surface. She rarely came her, had made a habit to avoid it for any reason she could come up with, but something in her still wandered about the well-being of the girl that had made her. She'd call it a maternal instinct, but that thought just made her laugh out loud, to the confusion of some of the refugees that populated Abigail's world now.

Morgen and Dr. Feel Good

Frowning faintly in concentration, his brow furrowed as his lips constantly moved in a near silent discussion of the value of isotopes in an experiment he had yet to put to practice but had been working out for years in his head. Shaking his head, his grip tightened on the Atlantean's arm and blood, darker and thicker than a human's, spilled forth from the cut he had put in the female's wrists. The nearly black liquid steamed faintly as it met the cooler air and dripped into a glass tube the female held in her other hand. Looking at her now, he made a mental note of the lack of pain she displayed, though she was clearly aware of the damage to her person. If this was a sudden development, he would have had half a mind to push things further in order to see if her nerve endings were operating correctly. As it was, he had noticed such complete apathy in her person since the first couple of years she had been given consciousness. He had inquired as to the reasons once he had made sure there was nothing wrong with her physically, but it seemed she noticed no change in herself and only mentioned that she had come to accept her life. Her emotional issues seemed not to effect her body as a human's would, so he cared little for them now. Placing a cork in the tube, he left her there bleeding and went about his work.

"There we are. I suppose Her Majesty still deems you to be hers?.. Oh hand me the sulfuric acid, will you."

Despite the fact that the Dr.'s back was turned to her, she nodded her affirmation to his question and gave no other answer beyond that. Instead she slipped from the table he had asked her to sit on before beginning the familiar task of checking her body for any abnormalities, stepped gracefully between the various things that seemed to have little rhyme or reason to their placement, and pulled a flask from among dozens of others before making her way back to her creator and placing it in his hand. She didn't know what he was working on and didn't particularly care. She'd lost count of how many times those same actions had been performed in front of her and then had witnessed those seeming innocent looking pills made from such actions placed in the mouths of suspecting and hands of unsuspecting alike. Speaking of which, screams from a nearby room rent the air as she took a green liquid from a nearby counter and placed a few drops on the wound that had been inflicted upon her, before wrapping bandages tightly around her wrist. There had been a time when the Dr. would do this himself, but once he knew she was capable of doing such necessary actions herself, he stopped. It saved time for other things that he could be working on.

Now, there was no reason for her to loiter as she did once he was done with her, except she had little else to occupy her time with. Even though she was now the Queen of Spades' pet, even though she knew that position could be ripped away from her fingers at any moment, and even though she knew Dr. Feel Good would probably love little more than to dissect her and find out what made her tick, being next to him was the closest feeling she'd ever had of home in her entire short life. Her first memory was of him mumbling to himself in the way he was doing right now and staring at her through the thick clear plastic of the tank he had kept her in for years. That was until the Queen had taken a shine to her. Now that tank stood empty and she slept in a large pool held high above the ground in that skyscraper Her Majesty called her palace. An annoyed glance was sent her way suddenly and Morgen sighed as she made her way out. This may be her closest thing to home, but she wasn't wanted here.
 
The Mystery continues.

Two days BT (Before Titans).

She was kneeling on the rooftop watching them move. She'd been tracking this gang of wannabes since they'd entered what she considered her territory. The bigger names knew her services were for hire on a case by case, but punks like these just weren't going to be tolerated. Not since the last group had decided to lift a boat and go out to the island for some fun. They didn't survive the trip and it took a while to get the remains moved from the piers. They had been fused solid in the shape of a T. If rumors were true the bitch was mean enough to do that sort of thing.

But back to matters at hand. "Staff" she whispered and the staff seemed to appear out of nowhere. The armored figure dropped from the roof top into the middle of them. She spun the staff about her sending the gang bangers sprawling. "Bad call, punk asses! You know what happens to trespassers in this town."

She noted that they hadn't gone down quite as hard as she had wanted, and they were regrouping with guns coming out. "Retract," she whispered and the staff disappeared, "Shield and sword." The weapon and shield appeared in time for her to get the shield up to cover her head as the guns fired.

She sprang forward at these idiots. Not caring to talk anymore she began to cleave her way through them, cutting them down where they stood. One managed to get away from the flashing steel of the sword and began to flee.

"Retract," she watched him run, "Horn." The weapon and shield vanished to be replaced by what looked like a horn made of some sort of stag's horn. She brought it to her mouth and "blew". The horn released a concentrated blast of white sound, striking the fleeing punk in the chest and blowing a hole through it. "Retract." and it was gone.

She looked closely at the faces of the gang as she remove the evidence to leave them floating in the harbor.


Zero days AT (After Titans).

She'd finished running the images of the gang members through the computer. Her discovery was a good one, this had been a brand new gang made up of cast offs from the major gangs in the city. It meant that she wasn't likely to be at odds with the Queenie. Or Sister Blood, not that she really cared there, or any of the other major players in the city.

The woman took the time to wonder if the Titans would find the babies in the harbor.
 
Emily

“That’s why I like you.”

Emily’s vibrant eyes slid over to where the bronze-haired woman sat, drinking what she assumed to be tea out of a delicate looking cup and babbling on a mile a minute about something.. or other. Truthfully, she hadn’t been listening, but if she had to venture a guess the rant had probably consisted of complaints about anything she’d come across in the past 24 hours, dotted with simpering flattery towards herself. Marcella was a supreme bitch and seemed to like nothing more than to hear her own whining voice. She’d been like that since her existence began and it was a wonder that Abigail had created her at all, much less kept her around. Biting the inside of her cheek, she resisted the urge to sigh and roll her eyes. The annoying tart wasn’t really worth the bother and any attention given her usually only resulted in more long-winded, self important speeches. Motioning off in the distance, beyond the balcony they were residing in at the moment, she none-too-tactfully decided to change the subject instead.

“What’s she up to now?”

What, or more appropriately whom, she was motioning to was the familiar form of dark-haired woman sitting amidst a field of hydrangeas. Emily knew enough from books to realize that particular flower grew on bushes, but it wasn’t like Abigail realized that and this world went by her logic, not reality’s. The sound of metal against stone alerted Emily to Marcella’s imminent arrival scant moments before she saw the tumble of curls stir out of the corner of her eye. There was blessed silence for a moment before a snide inquiry resounded next to her shoulder.

“New little brother or sister?”

There was a small figure in Abigail’s arms. Squinting, Emily could just make out the texture of dark, matter fur and gleaming black eyes as her creator’s lips moved in what was probably, knowing the girl, a companionable conversation. In all these years, she’d never known the girl to socialize with anyone real. Well, beyond the rare conversation with Anna. She almost seemed incapable of it, as if she didn’t see them, like, to her, the refugees in the Underground were nothing more substantial than smoke. It was ridiculous. She should have had her play more with the kids at the orphanage when she was little. No social skills at all. Scoffing, she extracted a cigarette from her jacket pocket, before bringing the little flame of a lighter into life. A few minutes study and over a decade of seeing what had been at first assumed to be going on happen had told her what was going on. The small figure never moved of its’ on violation and the eyes didn’t hold the smallest spark of life. In the back of her mind, she wondered how Abby had ever gotten a hold of the thing.

“No.. it’s just a real teddy bear.”

“I don’t see why you don’t just stay down here. There’s not a single good thing about the world above.”

A thin plume of smoke exited her lips as she drew out answering as long as possible. It was a subject she’d grown tired of a long, long time ago. She hated the Underground, hated seeing all this pretty scenery and knowing that nothing but concrete, steel, and old bones were what really lay under their feet. The apocalypse could be going on up above and she’d still prefer to be out in the real world. Hell, it probably already was the apocalypse, proving her point. Sighing loudly, she ran a slim hand through her multi-hued tresses before shoving her cap back on her head.

“We’ve discussed this before, Marcella, I have to keep Danny informed.”

“Oh yeah, because he acts like the rest of us would as soon stab the girl as look at her. Tch, like I’d bother with the chit.”

The revulsion in Marcella’s voice was thick enough that she would cut through it, and if it was ever in her nature to resort to physical violence, Emily would’ve loved nothing more at the moment then to punch her. She accepted, and sometimes even sympathized with others, when it came to the naive girl that had created them. Anger at a god for an unfair life wasn’t exactly a new trend in history. Danny, on the other hand, was a good guy. He protected everyone tirelessly, real or not, and he deserved a little fucking respect for it. Turning towards her facsimile sibling, she pinned the chatty woman with a glare before blowing poisonous smoke in her face.

“Where is Danny, anyways?”

She received a glare in response, with Marcella’s hands waving about to clear the nauseous fumes away from away from her. It wasn’t as if they’d do her any harm. The smell probably wouldn’t even cling to her like it did to far more real persons. No, she was just far too prissy to let anything even slightly foul smelling touch her delicate self. Whatever bit of whining would be said about Emily’s actions were forgotten as the woman latched on to the far more interesting subject of Danny. As she spoke her hands gestured emphatically.

“Here, there, wherever. Do you think she’s avoiding him? I swear it takes him longer everyday to walk the border.”

The questions were delivered with a conniving tone and a disturbingly sudden invasion of Emily’s personal space. She supposed she’d have to add gossip to Marcella’s list of hobbies. Sneering, Emily pulled away and just left the annoying bitch standing there. Whatever she thought on the bullshit between Danny and Abigail was entirely her own business. Though once out of sight, her lips pulled into a faint scowl. Poor Daniel had been harboring a crush on his creator for longer than most of Abigail’s creations had existed. Nothing Emily could ever say would dissuade him. Hell, he didn’t even admit to his feelings half the time. The imaginary world here was always expanding, or really just changing, more or less, but it was possible that Abby was avoiding her protector. No one could hide better, after all. If she was, though… If she was actually avoiding Danny then that meant the human was more than likely aware of Daniel’s feelings too. For a moment, she lingered in the garden-like landscape. She could easily go ask Abigail herself. The girl had never kept secrets from her, even wanted to tell her everything that was on her innocent mind. It was tempting, but she decided against it for now and went to look for a certain dark-skinned protector instead.
 
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