The earthy smell of freshly cut grass hung in the warm midmorning spring air. Pants of garishly colored plaid contrasted sharply with more conservative choices as players made their way along cart paths and fairways sporting heavily laden bags or brightly gleaming clubs. Danielle stalked along the grass straight for a solitary ball. She was, tall, but not too tall, clad in simple solid colors of yellow and khaki, her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. He father followed in her wake, perhaps in his late thirties, wearing the slightly tanned skin of one who sees a decent amount of leisure time in the sun. His blue shirt and white cap nearly matched a pair of plaid pants just loud enough, as he claimed, "to prevent me from taking myself too seriously." Two other men had already reached their places some distance ahead and were calculating their best shots toward the green.
Upon reaching the ball, Danielle turned toward back to her father, and the slightly triumphant expression on her face changed to one of concern as she began gesticulating wildly back in the direction of the tee. The smack of a club solidly connecting with a ball carried on the light breeze. Someone near the oblivious golfer took notice, and a hastily shouted "fore" rang out across the grass just as her father twisted in a move that carried from neck to shoulders to waist to find the source of the girl's consternation.
Danielle watched as the ball sailed into the sky, shielding her eyes to track it's trajectory against the bright cloud-speckled blue. The tiny white sphere arced in a graceful hook, her mind causing it to grow to terrifying size as it approached and she realized it was seeking her out. Throwing her arms in front of her face, her hands protectively over her head, she crouched slightly into a cringing position and squeezed her eyes shut. Random colors flashed with the pressure of the scrunched lids as stories of people knocked unconscious by errant shots flashed through her mind. She heard a sharp crack, and felt an impact reverberate through one hand and arm, bringing it with all the pain of a Nerf ball thrown idly by her six-year-old niece.
She opened one eye, then the other, and gradually drew her arms away from her face, holding them out before her. She stared dumbfounded at the bulbous, irregular, rocky surface which had replaced the skin of her forearms and hands. For the moment, nothing existed beyond her arms. The stone made slight grinding noises and she felt as if her hands were buried in viscous mud as she flexed her fingers. Though they felt immensely heavier, she found she easily heft the weight of her arms.
Her father's stunned look and the hand he placed on her shoulder went unnoticed. Words spoken in earnest, the frantic movement of lips, and the haunting specter of worry settling in his eyes were neither heard nor seen. Danielle could do nothing but gaze half in wonderment and half in horror as the rock melted away into a fine powder, drifting down to the immaculately clipped grass to disappear in the gaps between the brilliant green blades. Only the thinnest layer of dust on her arms and a few small pieces of stone resting on the grass remained to let her know that what had happened was truly real.
"Danielle? Danielle! Can you hear me? Are you alright?" Her father's words broke through as she watched the small fragments crumple into the turf leaving no trace of their presence.
"I'm… fine." She answered dully, though inwardly she could only ask herself over and over again, "What the hell was that?"
"Are you sure? What happened?" Her father's normally calm voice was laced with an undercurrent of anxiousness Danielle had never heard before.
"I don't know."
"Danielle, what did you… How did you do that?"
The concern, the questions, the look in his eyes, and the approach of the other two men were rapidly overwhelming her and she all but shrieked, "I don't know! I don't know!"
He nodded once, his features softening, the brown eyes not entirely losing their concern, but taking on a comforting semi-understanding that spread to his entire face. "Come on. Let's get you home, where we can figure this out."
That was her father, a take-charge and sensible kind of man even in the most unusual circumstances. His sudden supportive calm reminded Danielle that nothing would be gained by hysterics. Appearance counted for so much in life. That much she remembered. "OK, girl. Calm down." she told herself. "No," she added out loud, "you said this meeting was important, and it was just a freak accident." she thought. "Freak. I'm some kind of freak." Her breath started to come in shallow rapid gasps, until she forced herself to calm down. "You're not a freak, Danielle. Now get… a… grip."
Her father watched her carefully. "Not as important as you, Danielle." He lifted his eyes to the two approaching men.
"Are you OK?" one of them asked.
"Did you get hit?" asked the other almost simultaneously.
"No." Danielle snapped suddenly. "It missed me. I'm OK." She guessed by their faces that they had not noticed. She hoped they had not noticed.
Her father appropriated their attention and began talking with them in hushed tones as she turned away, absently brushing at the dust on her arms, trying to focus on what was around her. The breeze continued unabated, causing smaller trees to sway gently as birds chirped intermittently in small stands scattered around the fairways. She took a deep breath noting the grassy smell, now mixed with the faintest scent of crushed stone. The men at the teeing ground remained there. One was looking towards the small group on the fairway, no doubt ensuring that no seemed to be hurt, while another was berating the man who had taken the shot. Her father's club lay glittering in the sun only a few feet away. She reached for it mechanically, taking some comfort in the cool graphite as her fingers wrapped around it. Danielle took that feeling with her as her father guided her toward the golf cart and drove them back to the clubhouse.
A Stone Unturned
Moderator: Student Council
Re: A Stone Unturned
"I don't want to go!" Danielle raised her voice in exasperation. "I've seen enough doctors!"
"Danielle, this one might be able to help you." Danielle rolled her eyes at the properly postured woman sitting across the table. With high, almost fragile-looking looking cheek bones and a tall, thin frame, Danielle's mother had a delicate beauty about her. Soft, hazel eyes looked out from above a small, slightly rounded nose and a petite mouth that was quick to offer a genteel smile. While Danielle loved her dearly, she had to admit that her mother could be awful pretentious. "Like now," she thought in annoyance.
The elegant pearls-and-cocktail-dress combination looked lovely for a night on the town, but they were merely sitting in their recently rented condo in Overbrook, with no evening plans in sight. Many people knew what it was like to receive a condescending stare as Danielle's mother looked down her nose at them. She knew she came from a wealthy family, and she never let anyone else forget it.
Danielle's father admonished her gently for the eye roll, "Don't disrespect your mother, young lady." In many ways he was completely opposite from his wife. Though he also came from a well-to-do family, he wasn't content to rest on the laurels of his predecessors. His early afternoon attire of blue jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up were a vivid reminder of the differences between the two of them. At the moment, though, he was standing behind and to the left of her mother, with one hand on her mother's shoulder. The two were united in a show of solidarity.
"What's he going to say? The same thing all the others said. I'm a mutant. I can shape earth and stone. I can cover myself with it like armor. Great! I know all of that already! I don't need to hear from a quack like what's-his-name."
"He might be able to cure you."
"Cure me? CURE ME?!? I don't need to be cured, mother. I don't need to be 'fixed' like some damn dog!"
"Danielle…" her father began, but she was too far into her rant to stop.
"I'm a mutant. MU-TANT. Don't you get it already? It's in my DNA. It's genetic. It's who I am. You always said I should be proud of who I am, that I should never try to change for anybody else. Now, YOU think I need to change? What? I'm not good enough for you anymore?" Danielle could see that her last comment had struck her mother harshly. While a part of her felt guilty, mostly she hoped it would drive home the point.
"Danielle. That's enough!" The stern side of her father was coming out. Danielle paused for the briefest of moments, almost cowed by his tone, until she turned on him.
"And you!" She jabbed a finger in her father's direction. "Have you even looked this guy up? The two of you are so hell bent on fixing me…"
"Watch your language!"
"… that you just jumped at the chance of this cure without questioning a thing about it! Dr. Harrin said he MIGHT be working on a cure. He also said his research was controversial. You put more effort into looking into your business ventures!"
"Danielle, we're all going to see Dr. Soames." Her father's statement left no room for discussion. Though he almost never raised his voice, he had a commanding tone and presence that, when used, left no doubt who was in charge. "At the very least, we owe it to you to speak to him and hear what he has to say."
Danielle spun on her heel and stormed toward the front door of the condo.
"Where are you going, young lady?"
"OUT!" She swiped a careless hand at the hat rack, reaching for her coat. She didn't notice the light stone layering or the extra weight on her arm and snapped the tall, fragile woodwork in half. She sighed audibly in frustration. After checking her other hand, she yanked the door open, strode through it, and slammed it behind her.
"Danielle, this one might be able to help you." Danielle rolled her eyes at the properly postured woman sitting across the table. With high, almost fragile-looking looking cheek bones and a tall, thin frame, Danielle's mother had a delicate beauty about her. Soft, hazel eyes looked out from above a small, slightly rounded nose and a petite mouth that was quick to offer a genteel smile. While Danielle loved her dearly, she had to admit that her mother could be awful pretentious. "Like now," she thought in annoyance.
The elegant pearls-and-cocktail-dress combination looked lovely for a night on the town, but they were merely sitting in their recently rented condo in Overbrook, with no evening plans in sight. Many people knew what it was like to receive a condescending stare as Danielle's mother looked down her nose at them. She knew she came from a wealthy family, and she never let anyone else forget it.
Danielle's father admonished her gently for the eye roll, "Don't disrespect your mother, young lady." In many ways he was completely opposite from his wife. Though he also came from a well-to-do family, he wasn't content to rest on the laurels of his predecessors. His early afternoon attire of blue jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up were a vivid reminder of the differences between the two of them. At the moment, though, he was standing behind and to the left of her mother, with one hand on her mother's shoulder. The two were united in a show of solidarity.
"What's he going to say? The same thing all the others said. I'm a mutant. I can shape earth and stone. I can cover myself with it like armor. Great! I know all of that already! I don't need to hear from a quack like what's-his-name."
"He might be able to cure you."
"Cure me? CURE ME?!? I don't need to be cured, mother. I don't need to be 'fixed' like some damn dog!"
"Danielle…" her father began, but she was too far into her rant to stop.
"I'm a mutant. MU-TANT. Don't you get it already? It's in my DNA. It's genetic. It's who I am. You always said I should be proud of who I am, that I should never try to change for anybody else. Now, YOU think I need to change? What? I'm not good enough for you anymore?" Danielle could see that her last comment had struck her mother harshly. While a part of her felt guilty, mostly she hoped it would drive home the point.
"Danielle. That's enough!" The stern side of her father was coming out. Danielle paused for the briefest of moments, almost cowed by his tone, until she turned on him.
"And you!" She jabbed a finger in her father's direction. "Have you even looked this guy up? The two of you are so hell bent on fixing me…"
"Watch your language!"
"… that you just jumped at the chance of this cure without questioning a thing about it! Dr. Harrin said he MIGHT be working on a cure. He also said his research was controversial. You put more effort into looking into your business ventures!"
"Danielle, we're all going to see Dr. Soames." Her father's statement left no room for discussion. Though he almost never raised his voice, he had a commanding tone and presence that, when used, left no doubt who was in charge. "At the very least, we owe it to you to speak to him and hear what he has to say."
Danielle spun on her heel and stormed toward the front door of the condo.
"Where are you going, young lady?"
"OUT!" She swiped a careless hand at the hat rack, reaching for her coat. She didn't notice the light stone layering or the extra weight on her arm and snapped the tall, fragile woodwork in half. She sighed audibly in frustration. After checking her other hand, she yanked the door open, strode through it, and slammed it behind her.
Re: A Stone Unturned
Wandering the streets of Atlas an hour later, Danielle was still fuming. "Stupid mutation," she muttered. Half the time it kicked in she had no idea. It felt as natural as having her two feet planted firmly on the ground. When it was there, she could move it as easily as if it had always been there. She hardly noticed the extra weight, until a careless move broke something. Sometimes, if she was paying attention, she felt the earth or mud or whatever it was oozing across her skin before clumping up and solidifying.
She wandered aimlessly, paying no heed to her surroundings until a gruff voice called out, "What do we have here?" Turning her head slightly to the right, her eyes settled on the speaker. He couldn't have been much older than she was, dressed in torn, faded jeans and an old t-shirt. He and his two friends were sporting gang colors. Hellions from what she had heard, maybe Skulls. She didn't know the difference.
He advanced slowly, leering. "You lost little girl? Need someone to show ya the way home?" Danielle looked about frantically. She was in a small alley, dingy and gray. Various bits of rubble and trash were strewn haphazardly about. There were no windows, and only two ways out: forward and back. Somehow, she had gone most of the way through it obliviously. The nearest end was past the three gang members. It was too far to run back the way she came. She saw one of them pull something. She tried to turn and run, but her feet seemed to tangle themselves together. She fell backwards, bracing herself with her hands, her legs scrambling for purchase.
She saw the earth taking shape around her feet long before she felt it, a slurry of gravel and pebbles and rich dirt that rapidly piled upon itself and hardened as if it were instant cement. The scrape of stone on stone told her what was between her palms and the sidewalk. She heaved herself to her feet, as the three startled Hellions looked to one another.
"It's a cape!"
"Let's get outta here!"
In that precious moment of confusion, Danielle acted.
The ringleader called out, "She's alone. We can take her." As he looked back toward the girl, he realized that his rallying cry came too late and fell on unhearing ears. Danielle was already halfway back to the other end of the alley, and the lead Hellion's two cronies were nearly doubled over laughing as she stumbled over her own bulky feet.
She wandered aimlessly, paying no heed to her surroundings until a gruff voice called out, "What do we have here?" Turning her head slightly to the right, her eyes settled on the speaker. He couldn't have been much older than she was, dressed in torn, faded jeans and an old t-shirt. He and his two friends were sporting gang colors. Hellions from what she had heard, maybe Skulls. She didn't know the difference.
He advanced slowly, leering. "You lost little girl? Need someone to show ya the way home?" Danielle looked about frantically. She was in a small alley, dingy and gray. Various bits of rubble and trash were strewn haphazardly about. There were no windows, and only two ways out: forward and back. Somehow, she had gone most of the way through it obliviously. The nearest end was past the three gang members. It was too far to run back the way she came. She saw one of them pull something. She tried to turn and run, but her feet seemed to tangle themselves together. She fell backwards, bracing herself with her hands, her legs scrambling for purchase.
She saw the earth taking shape around her feet long before she felt it, a slurry of gravel and pebbles and rich dirt that rapidly piled upon itself and hardened as if it were instant cement. The scrape of stone on stone told her what was between her palms and the sidewalk. She heaved herself to her feet, as the three startled Hellions looked to one another.
"It's a cape!"
"Let's get outta here!"
In that precious moment of confusion, Danielle acted.
The ringleader called out, "She's alone. We can take her." As he looked back toward the girl, he realized that his rallying cry came too late and fell on unhearing ears. Danielle was already halfway back to the other end of the alley, and the lead Hellion's two cronies were nearly doubled over laughing as she stumbled over her own bulky feet.
Re: A Stone Unturned
The visit to Dr. What's-his-name was worse than she imagined. The battery of tests and scans and sample collections was endless. Danielle was sure some of those machines were just for show. She wondered if she looked behind them, if she would find they weren't even plugged into the wall.
"He's a total fraud," she muttered out loud. "Why don't they see it?"
She knew the answer. Her parents wouldn't see it, because they were so wrapped up in the hope of finding a "cure" for the mutation. After another argument over it, Danielle's mother had pulled the "you're just a kid" card, as if she didn't understand the situation well enough to make her own decisions. Danielle knew her mother didn't mean it, but it still hurt. It hurt almost as much as the shame of running away from those Hellions two days prior.
Yes, she was only a teenager. So were they. They were armed. Judging from the broken end table, the fence around the paddock, the damage to her father's pool table, the bookcase, and several other objects, so was she… after a fashion. She kept telling herself that she would have been in way over her head. There were three of them. She had no idea how to fight, no way to know if she could protect herself from more than just clumsy household accidents. A little self-defense training way back when and hardly remembered did not a hero make.
She leaned against the tree in the park near City Hall, idly picking shapes from the clouds floating overhead. A pirate ship there, if you twisted it just a bit this way. That one could be a dog… Actually it was more like a bear. The one over there…
"Help! Somebody help me!"
"Jesus! Isn't there anyplace safe in this town?" Danielle thought acerbically as she looked for the source. On the sidewalk on the other side of the park fence, a woman was struggling with a would-be mugger. She had one hand on her purse, and flailed at her assailant with the other.
Twisting to her feet, Danielle made her way, almost in a crouch toward the nearest gate, hoping she wouldn't be seen. She pulled the rocky armor around herself as she crept up behind him. Either the sound of the grinding material or the flash of hope in the woman's eyes gave her away. Letting go of the purse, the mugger turned on Danielle with a knife. She almost collapsed in relief as the blade chinked harmlessly off of a carelessly thrown out arm.
She swung a rock-enshrouded hand at the mugger, but was hesitant about getting too close to the knife. "If only..." She thought back to an afternoon of experimenting with various shapes, and she tried to summon up the memory of how she had done it. He had a knife. Maybe she could one up him. She concentrated hard, feeling the stone take shape in her hand. What hit the attacker was nothing like the sword she envisioned, however. Barely two feet long, bulbous, misshapen, and broadening out at the end, it looked something like a crudely made caveman's club, but it did the trick.
"He's a total fraud," she muttered out loud. "Why don't they see it?"
She knew the answer. Her parents wouldn't see it, because they were so wrapped up in the hope of finding a "cure" for the mutation. After another argument over it, Danielle's mother had pulled the "you're just a kid" card, as if she didn't understand the situation well enough to make her own decisions. Danielle knew her mother didn't mean it, but it still hurt. It hurt almost as much as the shame of running away from those Hellions two days prior.
Yes, she was only a teenager. So were they. They were armed. Judging from the broken end table, the fence around the paddock, the damage to her father's pool table, the bookcase, and several other objects, so was she… after a fashion. She kept telling herself that she would have been in way over her head. There were three of them. She had no idea how to fight, no way to know if she could protect herself from more than just clumsy household accidents. A little self-defense training way back when and hardly remembered did not a hero make.
She leaned against the tree in the park near City Hall, idly picking shapes from the clouds floating overhead. A pirate ship there, if you twisted it just a bit this way. That one could be a dog… Actually it was more like a bear. The one over there…
"Help! Somebody help me!"
"Jesus! Isn't there anyplace safe in this town?" Danielle thought acerbically as she looked for the source. On the sidewalk on the other side of the park fence, a woman was struggling with a would-be mugger. She had one hand on her purse, and flailed at her assailant with the other.
Twisting to her feet, Danielle made her way, almost in a crouch toward the nearest gate, hoping she wouldn't be seen. She pulled the rocky armor around herself as she crept up behind him. Either the sound of the grinding material or the flash of hope in the woman's eyes gave her away. Letting go of the purse, the mugger turned on Danielle with a knife. She almost collapsed in relief as the blade chinked harmlessly off of a carelessly thrown out arm.
She swung a rock-enshrouded hand at the mugger, but was hesitant about getting too close to the knife. "If only..." She thought back to an afternoon of experimenting with various shapes, and she tried to summon up the memory of how she had done it. He had a knife. Maybe she could one up him. She concentrated hard, feeling the stone take shape in her hand. What hit the attacker was nothing like the sword she envisioned, however. Barely two feet long, bulbous, misshapen, and broadening out at the end, it looked something like a crudely made caveman's club, but it did the trick.
Re: A Stone Unturned
((OOC Note: As evidenced below, this series of events took place a number of months ago. It took me a while to make certain I wanted to keep this character and get her into SJS. IC, it took a few months for the Townsends to investigate the school and be certain that this was the right move.))
Over the next two days, Danielle worked on the form of the club. It took considerable practice to finally get the shape down. She wanted to step back and take it all in, but she couldn’t let go of it without allowing it to crumble to dust.
It was still crude. A four-foot haft, rough and irregular was capped in a massive boulder which was easily as large as the girl’s torso and shaped like a potato with multiple, smaller protuberances. It was heavy and cumbersome, though she surprisingly had the strength to swing it. She just needed a target on which to try it out. Crime was rampant enough in this city that she ought to be able to look anywhere.
As she wandered the streets of King's Row, trying to avoid the worst alleys, she thought she heard a yell. She tried to follow it, but it wasn't repeated right away. The dingy street she was on was framed by buildings of block or brick. Parked cars sporadically lined one side of the asphalt, and the constant whirring and rumbling of passing vehicles could be heard from the intersection behind her. The beams of light reaching between the buildings provided moments of warmth in the otherwise cool air, but little to brighten the area. Just as she thought she had imagined the voice and decided to retrace her steps to the main road, a short, petite girl rounded the corner in a brisk walk and almost ran right into Danielle.
The girl couldn't have been much more than five feet tall, if that. She was flustered and slightly out of breath, and some of her black hair had strayed loose from the tightly coiled bun on the back of her head. The girl looked at Danielle briefly then turned her head back the way she had come. "We have to lea..." she started to say, then turned and looked straight at Danielle almost knowingly. "You can fight them."
"Huh? Fight who?"
As Danielle looked up at the corner the girl had come from, two young men ambled around it. They reminded Danielle of the three she had seen the other day, except they wore predominantly black and one of them had a stylized skull on his t-shirt. The first looked around for only a second before focusing on the two girls. Locking eyes with Danielle, he grinned and began walking their way. The second one hesitated, hanging back, but still following the first.
Danielle called to both of them in what she hoped was an authoritative voice, "Something I can help you with?" Her voice cracked, losing strength before the last word, and she knew from the widening of the grin that the advance man heard it, too. She summoned up her defenses and concentrated on shaping the hammer, but just as she was preparing for a swing, the lead Skull stepped right up to her. He was far too close for her to get a good swing. With her stunned surprise, the hammer disintegrated in her grip mid-swing, pummeling the thug with pebbles and fine powder. Danielle realized that it was going to take an awful lot of concentration to hold that together.
She winced as he struck hard in a less protected soft spot, and she began to nervously think that looking for trouble wasn’t such a great idea. The other boy was almost skittish, still in the background, but not stepping close enough to join the fight. An inward sigh of relief was cut short as the immediate threat hit her solidly in the chest, knocking her off her feet.
She scrambled up rapidly, reforming the hammer as she did so, and wondering if the other girl was OK. She squared off against her opponent, but this time, she waited for him to move first. As the thug stepped toward her, she took two quick steps to the right, swinging the massive weapon in a lateral arc that brought it to the middle of his back. He sprawled forward, skidding across the pavement. The screech of tires and the blast of a horn caught their attention as a rented moving truck came to a halt only a scant yard short of the boy. As he got to his feet, eyes first on the grill of the green and yellow vehicle, then coming to rest on the surprised driver, Danielle moved in behind him. He turned just in time to receive a blow to the chest that drove him against the truck's nose. As she stepped back, the attacker slumped to the pavement.
Her heart thudded in her chest as Danielle looked around and tried to catch her breath. For a moment her throat was so dry she couldn't speak. The second would-be assailant was nowhere in sight, and the other girl simply watched, standing more or less where she had stopped
"OK…" Danielle eyed the other girl as she dragged the half-conscious thug out of the street. "What was that about?"
"I was coming from dance class, when these men started to follow me," she offered in a Russian accent. To Danielle's ear it was a lighter version than she'd expect, not thick like most of those she heard on TV.
"Well, where's home? Maybe you should let me lend a hand so you get there in one piece." She tried to come off confident and reassuring to the smaller and presumably younger girl." By the way, I'm Danielle. And you're…" She looked at the girl expectantly.
"Myshka. Myshka Romanov." She cocked her head to the side, as if listening to something, then sighed. "My overprotective older brother is beckoning. You may come along if you wish. There is an invasion currently."
"An invasion?" Danielle was incredulous. "Just what I want to blunder into! If he really wants to protect you, you'd think he'd want you far away from there."
"He does."
The rest of the walk to the train was quiet, neither girl saying much to the other. Danielle followed Myshka off the car into Atlas Park and into the street. Storm clouds filled the sky, though they had a strange greenish cast to them and sirens of some sort could be heard wailing in the distance.
"Where are… Look out!" Danielle grabbed Myshka by the arm and pulled her to the side as a shimmering oval… something appeared in the street in front of them. There was a crackling hum and the smell of ozone in the air as a creature Danielle had only read about stepped out of it, covered shoulder-to-toe in heavy battle armor and swinging what looked to be an energy weapon from some science-fiction show to a ready position. It had pasty gray skin and an elongated, triangular head that she recognized immediately from the description. Rikti.
She dragged Myshka to the relative safety of a parked car, hoping the alien had missed them. That hope was fulfilled as a blast of fire rained down on the Ritki. A hero dressed in flamboyant yellow and red hovered over the street, driving the creature to the pavement with repeated blasts of flame from his hands.
"This isn't away! This is right in the line of fire!" Danielle shrieked.
"The hospital. My brother is there. It is safe." Myshka looked towards the street and then dashed through the open area to the next car. They ran the entire way, stopping only to duck into alleys or crouch behind obstructions if they caught sight of the invaders. They stopped at the entrance to the hospital, guarded on either side by hovering police drones.
Danielle felt awkward and out of place meeting first Myshka's brother, then several of his friends on the steps. Arkady was pulling the over-protective big brother act when another invasion must have come across the radio. As the rest of the group dashed off for the train, Danielle could only stand agape asking " You people WANT to go where they aliens are? Are you nuts?"
One of them, Erika, she thought the name was, called back over her shoulder, "Yeah, we're nuts."
Arkady and Myshka took the train to Galaxy City, inviting Danielle to tag along if she wanted. With nothing better to do, she apathetically followed them to the hotel that Myshka was staying in. Instead of entering, they chose to make their way to the roof. From the top of the hotel, the city seemed peaceful, if not entirely quiet. Danielle could see the park behind the Freedom Corps building sporting its massive statue of some hero that she was entirely unfamiliar with. She was lost in the green of the grass and the swaying of the trees in the early evening breeze when she heard Arkady asking her a question.
He wanted to know what brought Danielle to Paragon. She reluctantly told him about the doctor whose name she didn't care to remember, about how he was trying to scam her parents. She told him that her parents were searching for a cure. He scoffed, and the three of them spent a few moments ridiculing the idea.
"You know my sister and I... We go to a school for people like us." Arkady offered out of the blue.
Danielle was curious, but wary. "And by 'people like us' you mean...?"
"Mutants, people altered by scientific accidents, magic, that sorta thing... people with gifts, or curses."
"Oh! Just what I want! Not only do I get to be a freak, but I get to get lumped in with..." Danielle stopped before she said something she'd regret and didn't mean anyway. "Never mind." She hurled a pebble toward the street below, watching as it arced gracefully downward. She broke the now awkward silence herself. "What's it like, this school?"
It was her turn to ask questions, about the school and its students. Arkady was a telepath and it turned out Myshka was clairvoyant, though she didn't seem to like that little tidbit being exposed so casually. They were still talking as the evening grew towards night, but Danielle was convinced long before then. It wasn't just that anything would be better than being Dr. What's-his-name's fake science project. The school had the potential to be someplace where she might fit in. "A freak among other freaks," she thought hopefully.
She nodded to Arkady and Myshka. "Maybe... I'll suggest it to them."
Over the next two days, Danielle worked on the form of the club. It took considerable practice to finally get the shape down. She wanted to step back and take it all in, but she couldn’t let go of it without allowing it to crumble to dust.
It was still crude. A four-foot haft, rough and irregular was capped in a massive boulder which was easily as large as the girl’s torso and shaped like a potato with multiple, smaller protuberances. It was heavy and cumbersome, though she surprisingly had the strength to swing it. She just needed a target on which to try it out. Crime was rampant enough in this city that she ought to be able to look anywhere.
As she wandered the streets of King's Row, trying to avoid the worst alleys, she thought she heard a yell. She tried to follow it, but it wasn't repeated right away. The dingy street she was on was framed by buildings of block or brick. Parked cars sporadically lined one side of the asphalt, and the constant whirring and rumbling of passing vehicles could be heard from the intersection behind her. The beams of light reaching between the buildings provided moments of warmth in the otherwise cool air, but little to brighten the area. Just as she thought she had imagined the voice and decided to retrace her steps to the main road, a short, petite girl rounded the corner in a brisk walk and almost ran right into Danielle.
The girl couldn't have been much more than five feet tall, if that. She was flustered and slightly out of breath, and some of her black hair had strayed loose from the tightly coiled bun on the back of her head. The girl looked at Danielle briefly then turned her head back the way she had come. "We have to lea..." she started to say, then turned and looked straight at Danielle almost knowingly. "You can fight them."
"Huh? Fight who?"
As Danielle looked up at the corner the girl had come from, two young men ambled around it. They reminded Danielle of the three she had seen the other day, except they wore predominantly black and one of them had a stylized skull on his t-shirt. The first looked around for only a second before focusing on the two girls. Locking eyes with Danielle, he grinned and began walking their way. The second one hesitated, hanging back, but still following the first.
Danielle called to both of them in what she hoped was an authoritative voice, "Something I can help you with?" Her voice cracked, losing strength before the last word, and she knew from the widening of the grin that the advance man heard it, too. She summoned up her defenses and concentrated on shaping the hammer, but just as she was preparing for a swing, the lead Skull stepped right up to her. He was far too close for her to get a good swing. With her stunned surprise, the hammer disintegrated in her grip mid-swing, pummeling the thug with pebbles and fine powder. Danielle realized that it was going to take an awful lot of concentration to hold that together.
She winced as he struck hard in a less protected soft spot, and she began to nervously think that looking for trouble wasn’t such a great idea. The other boy was almost skittish, still in the background, but not stepping close enough to join the fight. An inward sigh of relief was cut short as the immediate threat hit her solidly in the chest, knocking her off her feet.
She scrambled up rapidly, reforming the hammer as she did so, and wondering if the other girl was OK. She squared off against her opponent, but this time, she waited for him to move first. As the thug stepped toward her, she took two quick steps to the right, swinging the massive weapon in a lateral arc that brought it to the middle of his back. He sprawled forward, skidding across the pavement. The screech of tires and the blast of a horn caught their attention as a rented moving truck came to a halt only a scant yard short of the boy. As he got to his feet, eyes first on the grill of the green and yellow vehicle, then coming to rest on the surprised driver, Danielle moved in behind him. He turned just in time to receive a blow to the chest that drove him against the truck's nose. As she stepped back, the attacker slumped to the pavement.
Her heart thudded in her chest as Danielle looked around and tried to catch her breath. For a moment her throat was so dry she couldn't speak. The second would-be assailant was nowhere in sight, and the other girl simply watched, standing more or less where she had stopped
"OK…" Danielle eyed the other girl as she dragged the half-conscious thug out of the street. "What was that about?"
"I was coming from dance class, when these men started to follow me," she offered in a Russian accent. To Danielle's ear it was a lighter version than she'd expect, not thick like most of those she heard on TV.
"Well, where's home? Maybe you should let me lend a hand so you get there in one piece." She tried to come off confident and reassuring to the smaller and presumably younger girl." By the way, I'm Danielle. And you're…" She looked at the girl expectantly.
"Myshka. Myshka Romanov." She cocked her head to the side, as if listening to something, then sighed. "My overprotective older brother is beckoning. You may come along if you wish. There is an invasion currently."
"An invasion?" Danielle was incredulous. "Just what I want to blunder into! If he really wants to protect you, you'd think he'd want you far away from there."
"He does."
The rest of the walk to the train was quiet, neither girl saying much to the other. Danielle followed Myshka off the car into Atlas Park and into the street. Storm clouds filled the sky, though they had a strange greenish cast to them and sirens of some sort could be heard wailing in the distance.
"Where are… Look out!" Danielle grabbed Myshka by the arm and pulled her to the side as a shimmering oval… something appeared in the street in front of them. There was a crackling hum and the smell of ozone in the air as a creature Danielle had only read about stepped out of it, covered shoulder-to-toe in heavy battle armor and swinging what looked to be an energy weapon from some science-fiction show to a ready position. It had pasty gray skin and an elongated, triangular head that she recognized immediately from the description. Rikti.
She dragged Myshka to the relative safety of a parked car, hoping the alien had missed them. That hope was fulfilled as a blast of fire rained down on the Ritki. A hero dressed in flamboyant yellow and red hovered over the street, driving the creature to the pavement with repeated blasts of flame from his hands.
"This isn't away! This is right in the line of fire!" Danielle shrieked.
"The hospital. My brother is there. It is safe." Myshka looked towards the street and then dashed through the open area to the next car. They ran the entire way, stopping only to duck into alleys or crouch behind obstructions if they caught sight of the invaders. They stopped at the entrance to the hospital, guarded on either side by hovering police drones.
Danielle felt awkward and out of place meeting first Myshka's brother, then several of his friends on the steps. Arkady was pulling the over-protective big brother act when another invasion must have come across the radio. As the rest of the group dashed off for the train, Danielle could only stand agape asking " You people WANT to go where they aliens are? Are you nuts?"
One of them, Erika, she thought the name was, called back over her shoulder, "Yeah, we're nuts."
Arkady and Myshka took the train to Galaxy City, inviting Danielle to tag along if she wanted. With nothing better to do, she apathetically followed them to the hotel that Myshka was staying in. Instead of entering, they chose to make their way to the roof. From the top of the hotel, the city seemed peaceful, if not entirely quiet. Danielle could see the park behind the Freedom Corps building sporting its massive statue of some hero that she was entirely unfamiliar with. She was lost in the green of the grass and the swaying of the trees in the early evening breeze when she heard Arkady asking her a question.
He wanted to know what brought Danielle to Paragon. She reluctantly told him about the doctor whose name she didn't care to remember, about how he was trying to scam her parents. She told him that her parents were searching for a cure. He scoffed, and the three of them spent a few moments ridiculing the idea.
"You know my sister and I... We go to a school for people like us." Arkady offered out of the blue.
Danielle was curious, but wary. "And by 'people like us' you mean...?"
"Mutants, people altered by scientific accidents, magic, that sorta thing... people with gifts, or curses."
"Oh! Just what I want! Not only do I get to be a freak, but I get to get lumped in with..." Danielle stopped before she said something she'd regret and didn't mean anyway. "Never mind." She hurled a pebble toward the street below, watching as it arced gracefully downward. She broke the now awkward silence herself. "What's it like, this school?"
It was her turn to ask questions, about the school and its students. Arkady was a telepath and it turned out Myshka was clairvoyant, though she didn't seem to like that little tidbit being exposed so casually. They were still talking as the evening grew towards night, but Danielle was convinced long before then. It wasn't just that anything would be better than being Dr. What's-his-name's fake science project. The school had the potential to be someplace where she might fit in. "A freak among other freaks," she thought hopefully.
She nodded to Arkady and Myshka. "Maybe... I'll suggest it to them."