"It's great to finally meet you. You come highly recommended. You and I are going to accomplish some great things. Might even enjoy some of it along the way."
"I'm always up for a little fun." She says, joking along with him, perhaps even subtly flirting with him.
"You're gonna have to forgive me but I gotta be somewhere. We can either pick this back up on Monday in the office, or you could come with me but you'll have to wait outside?"
Still smiling, Elite nods, "No problemo, I'll see you on Monday." And together they will change the state of California. With that, she turns to leave. Walking back to her car, she drives off.
Elite is glad she met Samson in her green form rather than her human one. Based on what Caitlin told her about the man, a tall muscular woman would have more of an impact with him rather than someone who looks so ordinary. Seems the redhead was right.
@razcaz: Yes, Elite's car has GPS. And that was more of an ending post (unless Gambler replies and makes it an ongoing RP, which can easily be done and I'd be perfectly fine with that since RPing with him is always FUN! ^_^). Either way, the voting is done and I was really just introducing my character to Gambler's character before we got to business.
But yeah! We can totally start something (or build off what we have already posted) if you want and tag Gambler so he can join in on the fun if he wishes. ^_^
@razcaz: This was excellently written. I visualized the whole thing. The ending is tragic. Gut punched over here. When I finally expose you. When I finally put you down I want you to know. Its going to hurt.
The on-again-off-again couple was engulfed by a swarm of paparazzi snapping pictures of their every action. Cat warned Zoe before they left, it'd be a very intrusive operation. Within moments of being out and about, Twitter already labeled them an "adorable couple." The two held-hands wearing matching Silver and Black Sunnies as they moved about several locations trying to find a reputable spot to launch the Liafador Franchise's newest non-profit organization.
Before her untimely demise, she'd been working to establish an organization of Super-Heroes called the "Legacy Initiative," a global superhero task force that hunts and rescues missing children, as well as bringing to justice their captors.
Today she was in LA prospecting buildings that would serve as a Headquarters. At the current moment, the two were meeting with the owner of a building, conveniently located a few blocks from Selebrity. "This is boring. Why do I need to inspect the buildings if I'm just going to knock it down and build a new one?" Cat asked, leaning over to whisper, but apparently too loud because the realtor heard her.
"Well, if you're ok with the land. We can go ahead with the purchase. Just make sure you have the building permits. Oh! Actually, Ms. Liafador, I'm afraid I can't sell you this land."
Her eyebrow rose in curiosity. Zoe stepped up, nodding seemingly understanding the situation before Cat did. "You're not an American. You can't own land here," Zoe informed, which cause the Franchise to glance back at the realtor a bit surprised. "You guys bombed the shit out of Iraq and Afganistan built all types of things, but I can't buy a piece of land for the good of the children?" Cat called out her accent in full bloom as none of it made a lick of sense. Then she had an idea. "Hey, I will give you the money can you buy this land for me. I just need it to be in your name. Tell ya what, if you do this for me." She whispered naughty things in Zoe's ear.
The duo walked down the busy streets of Los Angeles together, hand-in-hand as flashes from photographers showered them. Zoe hated paparazzi, not sure who exactly enjoyed them, but she didn’t want Cat to deal with any social media backlash due to Zoe’s negative attitude towards them. So instead she would give a smile at the cameras and gave a friendly wave with her free hand and actually say "hello" to them every so often. But refused to do more than that with all the attention on them. She knew what was getting herself into with Cat and her social status with the world. But those damn paparazzi… they were everywhere. Even citizens of the city would take quick snaps of the couple.
The night the two spent together, Catalina spoke to Zoe about what she wanted to do. The Legacy Initiative is what she wanted to call it. Zoe was all aboard for it and was willing to help Cat in whatever she could to get it up, going as well as helping maintain it. When Cat asked Zoe to go with her to go look at buildings for it, Zoe couldn’t say “yes” fast enough.
They had already looked through several buildings with Catalina not being pleased with any of them. The two would exchange whispers here and there giving comments of not just the buildings but their realtor as well.
"This is boring. Why do I need to inspect the buildings if I'm just going to knock it down and build a new one?"
Before Zoe could open her mouth to answer, the Realtor did instead.
"Well, if you're ok with the land. We can go ahead with the purchase. Just make sure you have the building permits. Oh! Actually, Ms. Liafador, I'm afraid I can't sell you this land."
Crap… she forgot. "You're not an American. You can't own land here," She could see Cat’s eyes narrow at the Realtor as she began snapping at him. She looked like she was ready to unleash Prized Fighter on him. But before Zoe could open her mouth to try and calm her, Cat’s eyes snapped over to Zoe as her lips curled into a smile.
She knew that look! “What? Oh no, what are you thinking?” Zoe asked almost afraid of the answer.
"Hey, I will give you the money can you buy this land for me. I just need it to be in your name. Tell ya what, if you do this for me."
Hold up? Her buy the land? I mean sure she wanted to get Catalina a Christmas present but to buy her a plot of land? That was more like-
Catalina then leaned in as her red lips spoke of things that were too private to repeat. Zoe’s eyes widen as she turned to head to face Cat. “Wait… really?” She almost stuttered out. “What about-”
"And you can wear your combat boots."
Man Zoe couldn’t reach into her bag fast enough as she pulled out her wallet and slammed it onto the countertop with one hand and pulled out a pen with the other. “I’LL TAKE IT!” She shouted as the Realitor jumped a bit from the sudden outburst.
“Are you sure? I mean we still have to look at-”
“YES- ahem- yes, I would like this building please. Draw up the papers, I’ll sign whatever it is that needs to be signed. I want this building, now.”
The realtor gave a judgemental glare at the two women. But a sale was a sale for him and that meant he was about to get paid as well. “Splendid, why don’t go back to my office and we can get all the paperwork signed there.” Spoke as he began leading the toe two out of the building.
“I want you to wear that red thing by the way.” Zoe spoke softly as she tucked away her wallet and pen before taking Catalina’s hand and intertwining her fingers into her own. The two following the realtor out to the sidewalk of the building where the paparazzi were waiting for them. Zoe slipping her sunnies back on.
"Of course," Cat called out, following behind Zoe and the Realtor. Zoe bought the land, which means Cat had to go all out for a Christmas present. That was the odd thing about their relationship, Cat obviously wasn't a Christian, but she still occasionally exchanged gifts with Zoe. The Press swarmed them again, and only this time, Cat couldn't flick them off. It wouldn't look good if the organization's future founder were caught flipping people off--Not yet anyway.
"Let's go get something to eat to celebrate. I promise I will not get self" Shots rang out around them, scattering the paparazzi. Instinctively Cat dove on Zoe to make sure she didn't get injured, but as her lithe frame hit the ground, she realized, "I-probably should've put up a barrier..." She grunted, holding her wrist.
"LAPD is chasing someone," 'Oh,' Cat thought before realizing the eyes of the crowd were still on them. 'Oh shit, right superheroes' "Zoe, the person in that vehicle, needs help." Cat points towards an overturned vehicle at a light.
The goddess herald took to the skies in favor of stopping the high-speed chase.
Roaring over the LA skyline, Cat in base form honed in on the vehicle weaving through traffic with malice. She could hear the subtle pop of the weapons as they fired back at the police. 'I'm glad the Daytonville Police aren't the only idiots'
Cat descended from the sky, creating a TK barrier over herself, picking up speed as she plowed down toward the city. Cutting them off with her trajectory, Cat plowed right through the hood of the vehicle, disabling it with her barrier, and them with the subsequent discharge that followed. Cat stopped and threw up a peace sign for the civilian photo-op before flying back off to Zoe.
"Let's go get something to eat to celebrate. I promise I will not get self"
“Yes! I’m starv-” Before she could finish the gunshots fired with the sound of metal scraping along the ground and the next thing she knew, Cat was throwing herself on Zoe as the two hit the ground with Cat on top of her. This was new. “Ack, you ok?” Zoe helped Catalina up from the ground as she looked out to see Police cars zooming past them.
"Zoe, the person in that vehicle, needs help."
“On it!” She began making her way towards the the vehicle. “Excuuuuse meeee.” She jumped up and floated over the crowd of paparazzi and land behind them before going towards the car.
“Hello?” Zoe got down to the ground, looking through the now glassless windows. She could see a woman, looking confused and bleeding from her head and onto the ground as she hung upside down on the drivers side. “Ma’am, are you ok?” Zoe called out as she looked back out to the crowed behind her. “HEY!” she pointed towards one of the paparazzi standing around. “I need you to call 911 and get an ambulance out here NOW.”
Internal screaming
“Ma’am I’m going to rip out your door.” Zoe grasped the door and with a single pull ripped it off before tossing it aside, making sure no one was around it. She looked in again and this time… saw that the woman was in fact very VERY pregnant. Like… ready to pop kind of pregnant. “Ohhhhh nooooo.” The hero whispered to herself as she turned her head to look at the same paparazzi person. “Um… I need you to tell them the victim in the accident is uh, pregnant.” Several people gasped as everyone who didn’t already have their phones out, now had them out and pointing at Zoe. omgomgomgomgomg. Don’t funk this up please don’t funk this up.
Very carefully Zoe crawled under the car as the woman stated to scream, her hands that were once holding her head were now moving towards her stomach. “My baby!” Was all she screamed. Oh shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!t.
“Ma’am I’m going to flip the car back, I need you to remain calm, ok?” The woman nod her head as best as she could while hanging upside down. Zoe crawled back out as positioned herself to the side of the car the woman was on. Squatting down she got a good grip on the vehicle as she counted to herself “One, two, threeeeee.” and flipped the car back as gently as she could as the woman was heard screaming in the car. “Oh man are you ok?” She looked back at the woman who was now screaming her lungs out while holding onto her stomach. Oh and her head was still bleeding.
“Ma’am, what’s you’re name?” Zoe called out trying to get her attention.
“Angel! Oh god, my baby. I was going to the hospital. I’m in labor.” The young woman didn’t look to be older than twenty-two as tears were streaming down her face. “Please, my baby. My baby.” She looked at Zoe as she grasped the heroes arm with her bloody hand.
Internal screaming was happening as a million things were running through her mind. The hero looked out towards the crowd that was now surrounding her all around. “Is there a nurse or a doctor around here?!” She called out only to have silence. She threw her head back as stress began to build in her shoulders. That always worked in the movies! “Ok, ok, ok, no worries. You’re gonna be fine.” She said more to herself than the woman. Thankfully the woman was wearing a very loose maternity dress. “Don’t mind me I’m just going to…” Zoe hesitantly lifted the dress to see that there was… a lot of… stuff coming out... and blood. A lot of blood. She quickly put the dress back down. In that moment Cat landed back on the ground behind her and Zoe’s head snapped in her direction.
“Cat!” She whispered but shouted at the same time waving at her to come closer. “This is Angel," Zoe stepped to the side to show a very much pregnant woman who was bleeding not just from a head wound but from... other areas. "she’s pregnant and is having a baby right now.” There was panic in her eyes as she looked at her Goddess.
“Paramedics said it’s going to take them 30 minutes to get here because of traffic!” The paparazzi called out.
“And the paramedics arn’t getting here for another thirty minutes.” Zoe’s voice was going up in pitch as she spoke. “Please tell me you know how to deliver a baby.”
Cat landed to see everyone with their phones out; there was screaming and mostly blood everywhere. Worried about Zoe's well-being, Cat stormed around the vehicle to see Zoe was in the process of delivering a baby. "Ugh!" Cat gagged, repulsed at the sight of the woman's blood. Cat's telepathic scan over the woman's vitals reports an unreal reality. 'She's not going to make it,' Cat thought before bending down next to Zoe.
"Angel, Angel. I need you to focus honey, is this your first child?" Cat's question would've sounded weird to anyone else, but first babies generally took longer than second and third children. Much to Cat's chagrin, this was her 3rd child, which meant they'd have to deliver the baby here and now. She thought about teleporting the woman to the nearest emergency room, that wouldn't work. There was a high chance of killing her with all the blood loss.
Cat removed her blouse before telekinetically lifting Angel with her mind to place the soon to be soiled blouse under her. "I need this!" She screamed, yanking Zoe's coat off her back. "Breathe, Angel. Everything is ok." Cat reassured, propping Zoe's coat behind the woman as she tried to keep her in good spirits. With every blink, she was having flashbacks to when she had Mari. "Breathe, breathe. You're doing great." She could hear the people around them; the gasp and awe didn't irritate her as much as the constant flicker of paparazzi cameras. "Can she get some forking privacy!" Cat's eyes washed with a violent purple hue before casting a psionic dome around the three of them.
Another psionic scan, Angel was about to enter duress. She'd lost too much blood. "Zoe...we have to get this baby out now," Cat whispered, running her hands across Angel's forehead. "Stay with me, Stay with me" The strain of the situation forcing Cat's Spanish accent to freeflow from her mouth. "Ok, Zoe listen to me; I'm going to have Angel start pushing. The moment you have the child. You wrap that baby up, and you follow me, do you understand?"
Teleporting would be fatal, but the Franchise had another ace up her sleeve. She couldn't do it with the baby inside Angel, it might reanimate while its mother was still suspended. But she could transport Angel to the hospital suspended in animation to save her life. Provided it wasn't already too late. "Push Angel!
The look on Cat’s face when she began interacting with Angel told Zoe all she needed to know. This was a more serious situation than Zoe thought. But when Cat started stripping Zoe quickly turned around to shoo the paparazzi away only to have Cat ripped the coat off of her. “Oop!” She nearly fell back as Cat already snapped at the people around them before creating her own barrier of privacy around them.
"Zoe...we have to get this baby out now-"
“Ok.” Zoe nodded her head as she stood before Angel, giving her a reassured nod. Cat knew more about what was going on than she did, that was clear. Whatever she instructed her to do, Zoe would do it without question.
"Ok, Zoe listen to me; I'm going to have Angel start pushing. The moment you have the child. You wrap that baby up, and you follow me, do you understand?"
Zoe quickly pulled her black long sleeve shirt up and over her head to catch the baby. “Yes.” Nothing more was needed to be said by her as Cat began instructing Angel to push.
Angel screamed, her head tilting back as tears fell from her eyes. Zoe’s eyes couldn’t help but widen as she saw a head begin to poke through. “I-I see their head!” Zoe called out as the little wrinkle faced baby suddenly appeared. The hero gasped. Then the right shoulder, the left shoulder and that’s when Zoe grasped the newborn. Slowly the child came out until the newborn completely came out and Zoe, just as Cat instructed, wrapped up the child, but not before more bodily fluid poured out of the woman and onto Zoe’s combat boots. Oh man, don’t look down, don’t look down.
She used her fingers to cut the umbilical cord by searing it. “It’s a boy.” Zoe couldn’t help but smile as he began trembling while crying as she wiped the mucus off the newborns face and tried to get it out the nose so it could breathe better. Zoe cradled the infant boy’s head as she held him against her chest trying to sooth the newborn in her arms by warming up her body to keep the newborn warm. Zoe was so focused on the newborn she wasn’t paying much attention to what Cat was doing with the mother. She looked up to Cat, following her wherever she led them.
The Selebrity goddess rapaciously paces back and forth, biting at her nails in apparent worry. While she hadn't technically classified herself as a "Hero," she did the deed from time to time. She'd fought toe to toe with her fair share of carjackers, drug dealers, and public ejaculators, but the stakes were higher on this one.
The We Are Legend Alumni were able. Both were transported to their respective to transport mother and son to the nearest hospital safely. Cat's concern rest on the mother, Angel. In the shootout, she lost a lot of blood, like a lot.
On the spectrum of powers and abilities within the family, most Liafadors were either Demigods or full-blown deities. Catalina was the lowest possible goddess in the spectrum, blessed with amazing powers behind human comprehension, but resurrecting the dead wasn't one of them. "She's not going to make it."
Cat said, sitting down next to Zoe's nail still in her mouth with her leg quivering slightly. She scanned Angel's mind; it was in horrid distress, mostly thoughts of what would happen to her baby. Soon thereafter, the doctor returned, shaking his head, indicating that Cat's concerns were valid. Angel didn't make it. "S-so what happens to the baby?" Cat asked, oddly conflicted.
"Well, we're in a bit of a situation here. Angel does have family, but they're all in Mexico." Cat's eyebrows narrowed. "W-what does that mean. Can't we just contact them?" She knew America's immigration laws were...tricky, but there had to be someway to get this boy back to the family.
The anxiety in the waiting room was high. Zoe would be lying if she said she hadn’t seen death in the line of work the two women were in, but this… this felt like the entire world was weighing heavily on their shoulders and she could see it in Cat, it was eating at her. Several times Zoe tried to get The Goddess to sit down and try to talk her down, but it was in vain. But in a way, someone’s world was weighing on their shoulders. Angel and her child. Did they act fast enough to save them? Would the baby make it? Would the mother make it? It was several questions that too ran through Zoe’s mind.
But after seeing all that blood… it was too much for a simple human to lose. Zoe looked down at her boots, they were stained by the blood of Angel. The look of her in pain and her skin turning a deathly pale as she gave birth to her son… the two knew that the chances of Angel surviving were low.
"She's not going to make it."
“We did everything we could.” She tried to reassure Cat, gently placing her hand upon her shaking knee to try and calm The Goddess. “Whatever happens… it’s out of our control.”
But she could see the distress on Cat’s face. Catalina was rarely like this. Her IDGAF attitude in difficult and stressful situations is one of the many things she’s known for. So to see her like this? Perhaps it was her mother's instincts that made her act this way. The life of the baby was resting on the actions of everyone involved.
When the doctor walked in Zoe quickly stood up as she moved her hand to Cat’s shoulder, waiting for the news, only to have him shake his head. Angel was no longer with them. Funk. Her head turned to Catalina as she sat back next to her, her hand never leaving her as Catalina began inquiring what was to happen now with the newborn.
"S-so what happens to the baby?"
"Well, we're in a bit of a situation here. Angel does have family, but they're all in Mexico.
“W-what does that mean. Can't we just contact them?"
“It’s not that simple. Because the newborn is a US Citizen the child would need to be with family that live here in the United States. The only way the family in Mexico could retain custody of the child is if they came to the United States and went through the process to take the child with them. However her family is in the more… poverty ridden side of Mexico and we are unable to contact them and it’s not in the child’s best interest to be with them because of their financial situation. Now because there is no family in the United States the newborn is now under the custody of the state and will be placed in the foster care system and await to be adopted by a family here in The States.”
Zoe looked over at her love and she knew this answer would not make her happy. Especially since her own daughter went through the foster care system and went through the adoption process. She didn’t know all the details of it, but she knew it wasn’t a very good experience. “Doctor, is there anything WE can do?” She asked as she turned her attention back to the doctor.
“I mean… unless you want to talk to our social worker and become foster parents yourselves for the newborn, there isn’t much to be done.” He let out a sigh as he looked down at some paperwork. “Now if you excuse me, I have to fill this out, any other questions regarding the newborn can be directed to our social worker.” he began to walk away through the same doors he originally came through.
Zoe let out a sigh of frustration as she turned to Cat. “Well… there isn’t much more we can do unless we want to take him home with us." There was a moment of silence between the two women. Zoe didn't know what else to say. What else was there to say or do? Adopt the child? No... that was insane. Right? "Come on, I know a place where we can get some good sea food and they have endless shrimp.” Her eyes looked into Cats and it was then she realized… she was in deep thought. Oh no… she knew that look. “Cat? What are you thinking?”
In her ivory white uniform, Daciana sat upon the ledge of a four story building looking downward at the busy streets below as she held a cigarette in between her fingers. The stench of it lingered in the air as the smoke danced through the air while her blue eyes were focused on the chaos that was about to unfold. She saw everything. The two heroes walking out of the building, the shooting, the chase, but what she was focused on, was the vehicle that overturned in the middle of all the chaos. She watched as both heroes delivered the newborn boy and instantly, they vanished. With an amused smile she flicked her cigarette off the building and vanished in a blink of an eye.
She appeared just seconds later to the same hospital that the four traveled to, watching the nursing staff run off to surgery with the mom while the labor and delivery nurses took off with the newborn boy. Her ocean blue eyes looked over to the two heroes, Catalina and Zoe who were now in the waiting area, waiting for news on the mother. Well… she could have told them, but what fun would that be? No one else could see her at this moment as she was standing between the world of the living and the world of the dead. Everything looked the same, only everything was just a slight more pale.
The Ivory Reaper walked through the hospital as she could see several other members of The Liberation Foundation were busy with their newest souls, ready to take them to the afterlife they believed in. It was then a code blue was heard overhead as she made her way to the surgical ward. Several nurses and doctors were seen working around a woman. A nurse standing on a stool while performing compressions while anesthesiologists stood at the head of the bed. Surgeon spits out orders of medications and other nurses running around trying to work together to save this mothers life.
But Daciana wouldn’t be standing here,with her arms crossed and leaning against a wall, if they were going to be able to save her. What seemed an eternity later the surgeon called it. Angel Martinez was no longer among the living. Now it was Daciana’s turn. She walked through the doors as Nurses began to clean up the mess they made, not able to see the Shepherd of Souls as she stood by the bed. She placed her hand over Angel’s as she pulled up, causing a ghostly blue hue replica of Angel up from the body into a sitting up position.
“What?” Angel spoke, confused as she looked around to find her sitting on her now deceased body.
“Good evening Angel, my name is Daciana, I’m here to take you to your afterlife.” Daciana introduced herself. Her Romanian accent gave her voice a little touch of mystical elegance.
“A-are you an angel?” She asked, her spanish accent pushing through as her eyes were wide.
Daciana’s lips stretched across her face in amusement. “Sorry to disappoint, but I’m no angel. I enjoy cursing and drinking far too much. The white suit is just a uniform.” She helped Angel off the table who began to cry quietly.
“Comeon now, don’t cry. You lived a good life, so good that you get a front row ticket to the pearly gates and hang out with the Big G himself. Doesn’t that sound fun?”
“But my son… I just gave birth. I can’t leave him.” She was sobbing, if she could produce tears, they would be falling from her face right now.
Daciana’s smile faded as she took in a sharp breath. “Ok, come on.” She grasped a hold of Angel’s hand and began walking.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere you need to be.”
Turnin the final corner they stood in the labor and delivery and before them behind a large glass wall, were several newborns laying in little beds. They were all sound asleep with the exception of one who was being fed with a bottle. “See him over there in the nurses arms?” She pointed out. “Thats your little man.” Still holding onto her hand the two walked through the glass and up to the nurse who was holding him.
Angel reached out, in attempt to touch the child, but her hand went right through him. Her face twisted in emotional pain. “No, no, no. No crying. Come here.” She grabbed Angel by the shoulders and positioned her right in front of the nurse. “Now, you’re just going to have about a minute, so I need you to just… not do anything that’s going to make me regret this and just enjoy what you can cause if Karen finds out, I’m going to be in a sh!t ton of trouble, ok?”
“What are you-” Before she could finish, Daci pushed Angel towards the nurse and her body began to slump over for a moment before gasping for air.
A confused look was on her face as she looked down to see the newborn in her arms. Tears began to stream down her face as she held the child close to her. Ah, the power of possession, it was always fun to do even though it would piss off good old Karen. She stood there, watching the mother and son share their first and last hello. Angel sang softly in spanish as she gave as much love as she could to her son. As much as Daci would joke around and pretend like she didn’t care, she did have a soft spot… sometimes.
A glance at the clock and the minute was up. “Time’s up.” She grasped the possessed nurse by the shoulder and yanked Angel right out of her, causing the Nurse to slump forward for a moment before sitting back up and gasping for air, looking a bit confused at the moment.
Angel stood there in silence for a moment before looking over to Daciana. “Thank you.”
“Our little secret. Now… shall we?” She extended her hand to Angel.
“Will he be ok?” Daciana’s eyes looked over at the waiting room of the labor and delivery unit where the two female heroes were seen talking. “He’s going to be just fine.”
“Ok…” Angel took Daciana’s hand and in that instant, a portal opened behind her as a blinding light overcame them for a second before revealing the heavenly gates behind Daciana.
“Welcome to Heaven.” Daciana spoke as she guide Angel through the portal and standing at the gates was none other than Saint Peter waiting for them.
“Ah, Daciana, I see you brought Ms. Martinez home. As always, thank you.” Saint Peter spoke in gratitude.
“Sure thing Pete, take care of her, ok?” She looked over to Angel. “Have a good time. Hopefully we don’t see each other any time soon.” With a playful wink, a smile and a nod of her head she suddenly vanished, going back to The Liberation Foundation to report in another successful escort.
There was a small vein above Cat's eyebrow that slowly beat to life with every word that drips from the good doctor's mouth. She understood he was doing his job, but as she stood there, arms folded, she couldn't detect a hint of empathy in his voice.
She could hear Zoe's calls, but she retreats into her thoughts, formulating a plan in her head. How heartbroken would Angel be if she knew she fought to her last breath to give her child life; he ended up in the California foster care system.
Of course, there was the Mazoi of Gato Island; their sole purpose was to take in discarded peoples rehabilitate them. There was nothing wrong with this newborn.
"I am thinking...I want him," Cat finally replied, her voice yielding to her natural Iberian accent.
"We watched a mother hold back death to give birth to her son. After all that, they are just going to stick him with someone who just wants a paycheck. Mari was in foster care, and I know how this process works.
Moving back toward Zoe, taking her confused hands within her own. Cat gave them a tight squeeze before declaring. "I will be that child's mother"
It felt like several minutes of silence before Catalina finally answered.
"I am thinking...I want him,"
“What?” Zoe blurted out, taken back by her answer. “Cat, you can’t be serious.”
"We watched a mother hold back death to give birth to her son. After all that, they are just going to stick him with someone who just wants a paycheck. Mari was in foster care, and I know how this process works.”
The blonde hero turned her head away from Cat as her eyes shifted to the door the doctor just walked through. “And what, you're just going to adopt him and raise him? Be his mom?” Catalina already had Mari and Zoe never remembered Cat talking about actually wanting more kids... though they never talked about it before. She could understand the empathy she had for the orphan child. Zoe felt bad for the child too. But to adopt him? That was a whole different playing field. “Cat this, this is a big thing, this isn’t like buying a building. This is a human life in your hands. A normal human newborn boy. Are you sure?”
Catalina grasped Zoe’s hands into her own as their eyes interlocked.
"I will be that child's mother"
Zoe held her breath as her eyes began searching for… something… anything on Catalina’s face that would tell her that she wasn’t sure about this. But that look… she knew it too well. Catalina had her mind set on taking that newborn under her wing and raising him as her own. There was no changing her mind. “Cat…” Zoe spoke softly as she tried to come up with something to be the voice of reason against what seemed to be Cat’s irrational thoughts. But the longer she looked into the determined and passionate eyes of her lover, she couldn’t bring herself to oppose it. “Ok.” She gave a subtle nod of her head. “Let’s go talk to the social worker and figure all this out, ok?”
She could see Cat’s eyes light up as Zoe stood up from her seat and lead the way to the Social workers office. Things were about to change.
Today was a reprieve in a busy month for the Mazoi Ambassador; Her dead mother resurrected and was now living with her in Daytonville, she"separated" from her long-time girlfriend Zoe; despite the private split, the two were still very much inseparable, leaving many to believe if there was ever a split at all. With Zoe's help, the Lightning Countess secured a location for her newest business venture, "The Legacy Initiative," an organization she'd use to give local heroes a platform to gain notoriety while assisting in a worldwide effort to stop human/sex trafficking.
On top of all of that, she also adopted a baby boy, Angel. His mother died giving birth to him; instead of allowing him to become a state ward, Catalina took him in as her own.
Zoe, Ziccarra, and Angel were all absent tonight, though, as Cat graced the LA convention center for a fundraiser for her newest non-profit. Throughout the night, many wondered what the status of her Selebrity membership was; she hadn't commented on it. She hadn't spoken to Samson Starr since the day she came back to life, and while she still considered the Selebrity Founder a friend, her own endeavors took precedence.
From her backstage room, she could hear all the guests mingling amongst one another; in just an hour, they'd raised upwards of 2 million dollars, just one million dollars off their targeted goal. From here on out, the rest of the night was simple: give a speech, Mingle with a few folks, introduce a few of California's local heroes, give a speech end the night. Somewhere in between leaving LA and returning to Daytonville, she'd slid over to see Zoe and buss it wide before she departed the country.
"Ma'am, it's time for your opening speech," The producer called out, drawing Cat from her backstage room. Sliding her heels on, Cat scamped out to the stage, fearful that someone would see she was having a hard time walking in her new heels.
"Full Discloser, I think it's horrible that with all the generous philanthropists on this planet that it took me to organize an Initiative like this. But It needed to be done, and with your help. We did it. In just a short amount of time, we've raised over 2 million dollars in our efforts to Find, Stop, and Eliminate Human/Sex Trafficking across the globe. This is an issue that has gone on for years, and It's time we say no more. We can stop this in our lifetime, and that's what we intend to do!"
A small speech that generated thunderous applause, Cat gingerly descended the steps in order to mingle with the guest, she knew various big names were in the room. And now it was time to flirt promiscuously if need be in order to get the final million.
While Catalina was off doing her fundraiser to fight human/sex trafficking, Zoe was in her apartment sitting on her couch holding onto the tiny infant boy against her chest. His body was wrapped up in a steel blue swaddle blanket as a look of content was seen upon his chubby little face. He was so tiny. Like… super tiny. Tiny toes, tiny fingers, tiny everything. She remembered vividly when she first saw Angel. Hell, she was the one who delivered Angel. She was the one who held him in her arms when he cried out for the first time. And he totally ruined her boots but that’s ok. Cat was happy though, she hated her boots. But enough about that. Zoe was able to get some baby time in when she volunteered to watch little Angel. Has Zoe had any baby experience before Angel? No. Was Zoe CPR certified if something happened to this infant? No. BUT Zoe totally watched every “how to take care of an infant 101” youtube video she could get her hands on. She was confident. So long as Angel didn’t poop… please don’t poop.
Little Angel began to wiggle as his big grey eyes opened and looked up at Zoe. “Heeeeey little man, you awake already?” Her voice was a bit higher than normal as she gave a cheesy smile. She carefully moved him from her chest to resting in her arms so she could get a better look at him, supporting his still wobbly neck. He smiled as he continued to look up at Zoe while his muscles in his face began making different subtle expressions as if he was exploring exactly what his face could do. “Oh? Are you hungry? I can make you a bot-” Before she could finish a low bubbling sound followed by the vibration coming from his diaper said it all. “Oh no, you didn’t.” Zoe’s smile faded instantly. “Angel, I thought we had an agreement no poopies until mom got home!” But when he pressed his lips into a little smirk, dang it, she couldn’t be upset. He was too adorable. “Fine, you win.” She stood up as she walked over to the diaper bag. "But if you get poopies on my clothes we're going to have a problem." She teased.
Zoe began rustling with the bag as she pulled out a diaper and some wipes with one hand while cradling Angel in the other one. Walking over to her bedroom she carefully laid Angel down upon a towel and began undressing the little guy to get to his diaper. But before she could even unbutton his white onesie she smelled it. “Ohmygod.” she brought one hand up to her nose, covering it completely. “How does something so tiny make something that smells SO BAD!” Zoe had seen blood, broken bones, guts, and everything else that comes with being a hero but THIS? Ugh, it was worse than when she and Cat were in the sewers together back during their short time in WAL, back when they were simply teammates struggling to understand each other. That was a lifetime ago.
Suddenly, gagging was heard as Zoe’s eyes had begun to water from the stench. DontthrowupDontthrowupDontthrowupDontthrowup was repeated over and over in her mind as she began changing the diaper as quickly as she could. But she gagged again, this times the tears trickling down her cheeks while little Angel’s heartfelt laugh could be heard, being amused by the new sound that Zoe was making. “You’re not going to defeat me!” She called out as she quickly rolled up the dirty diaper and tossed it in the trashcan next to her before putting the new diaper on and buttoning up his onesie back on. “Ha! I win!” She gently picked him up, carefully caring for him in her arms as she planted a loving hiss upon his tiny head. “Common, let’s get your bottle ready cause I’m sure after a poopie like that, you’re hungry.”
She made his bottle and began feeding him as he eagerly drank. His eyes slowly beginning to close the longer he fed. But nope! Couldn’t sleep yet. She picked him up and placed his head just above her right shoulder as she began patting his back until she heard those couple of burps. “Good job Angel!” She smiled as she pulled him back only to see his milk all over his lips. Her eyes widen to look at her shoulder to see the milk he burped back up all over her shoulder. She forgot to use a burping cloth. Dang it! She grabbed a towel and wiped his mouth clean before wiping herself down. A yawn escaped his lips, he was ready for bed. And letting out a deep yawn herself she leaned back on her couch with Angel laying back on her chest as she turned on the TV to watch the news coverage on Catalina’s fundraiser here in L.A. “Aw look it’s mama.” She proudly spoke as she looked down at Angel who was fast asleep. “Yeah, I feel you.” She smiled as her eyes became heavy and slowly… she difrited off asleep too with the little Angel in her arms.
It's a shame we couldn't have met under different circumstances.
"Yeah but given who she is, who knows what those 'different circumstances' would've been. This is probably the best of all possibilities."
For once she and Diarmuid were on the same page. The veteran heroine was nothing if not thorough. Surviving as long as she had against the absolute best competition the world had to offer using little more than her wits and a bow, she had to be. Arquitenens prepared as well as she could before entering any situation - "social" situations included.
And it wasn't the first time she prepared to face Catalina.
The erstwhile empress of what was then known as "Eden" was gifted control of part of the nation by a foolish old man in a move that served no purpose. By her acts of terror on the country's mutant population she was just as bad as any of the Venezuelan dictators, whatever titles they chose to use, whose human genocides were ignored at best, and at worst lauded as "reparations" by cowards and madmen. In those days Abigail sought Catalina just as she'd sought the others - to "redeem" her with the tip of an arrowhead. Or several. Whatever it took. Even now it was best not to think about too much. She could feel Diarmuid's spirit getting restless the more she dwelled on it.
Besides, as much as she questioned Catalina's past, both near and distant, she had to admit a certain...distant affinity for the woman. Personal inclinations aside, the Catalan Countess seemed to have done a genuine 180. On paper she was everything Abby could've dreamed of - one of the world's worst showing that her faith in the ultimate, transformative power of redemption and reformation was not misplaced. Whatever she'd done in the past, Catalina seemed to genuinely be a better person. Maybe not the best speaker but there was a certain charm to the way she seemed to almost stumble, irreverently, through public engagements, absent pretension. Totally honest - what you see is what you get.
As laser-focused as she'd been on avenging Chance, Abigail found herself genuinely diverted by the cause for which they'd been gathered. It'd be nice to stay and talk about this "Legacy Initiative" more. She'd be sure to make a donation. (Although, given her reason for attending in the first place she only intended to do so at the end, so that it wouldn't come across like a bribe or something to be held over Catalina's head.) And who knew? If things went well here she could see about arranging future correspondence to determine how else she might help. Perhaps a collaboration with Ambrose - she had been slacking, delegating virtually everything to her gracious assistants who never stopped working even when Abigail went off-grid. But Nastya would have to appreciate the free press for Avalon's most well-known subsidiary head appearing at the charity event of one of Selebrity's biggest names.
She'd better appreciate this, Abby grumbled internally as she gingerly made her way through the crowd to the hostess. Of all the people in all the places across the pond, Los Angeles held her least favorite kind. The dress was rather flattering, even if she did go beet red whenever she caught someone staring or overheard a remark. But the heels were absolute murder. Despite her heritage Abigail almost never attended public events, and rarely associated with those in her direct socioeconomic stratum (or any other, to be totally fair). Her feet were usually laced with a pair of comfortable trainers or her own specially fitted boots—but almost never formal heels. Every so often she'd receive a bump, stumble, and apologize profusely while grabbing hold of someone to keep from falling over. Yet, entertaining no one, Abby made a beeline for Catalina as stably as she could. In a stroke of good fortune she even happened to approach just another conversation was wrapping up, and with no other competition vying for the Liafador starlet's attention.
"Catalina," she called prematurely as she approached, to keep Cat from wandering off, and herself from having to take any extra steps. Formal, but friendly. It's a sensitive topic so don't overstep."Abigail Aensland, thanks for allowing me to be here on such short notice. Can I pull you aside for a chin-wag, away from the crowd? There are actually a couple of things I'd like to discuss."
Formerly a pawn in Valerie Huntington's Hell Fire Club, Catalina was no stranger to events this high on the social strata. But years of reformation and children transformed the former Queen of Eden into a full-fledged mother. Periodically she glances at her phone to catch text from Zoe on Angel's well-being, and often she would text Mari to make sure her eldest wasn't in some trouble.
From the moment her speech ended, the Storm Queen bounced around the venue, distributing her time amongst the wealthy to ensure she could secure the final million before the night's end.
Despite her hardest to keep conversation-based solely on the Legacy Initiative, she was plagued by questions regarding Netflix's newest limited series, "goddess," starring Catalina as her mother, and questions about whether or not she'd been secretly involved with multi-platinum recording artist Future.
While not one to mince words, she learned how to scale back, divulging certain intimacies of her personal life, something Mari highly insists she learned how to do. With her new heels plaguing her feet, she moved fast enough to avoid another conversation but slow enough so she wouldn't trip or fall.
As she prepared to disappear for a moment's reprieve, she faintly made out her name being called. 'Oh, goddess, what now' She thought, turning putting on a faux smile to feign interest in whoever called out.
'Oh my goddess, that dress is beautiful,' she internalized as she scanned the blonde woman from head to toe before the woman made an initial introduction.
"Abigail Aensland, thanks for allowing me to be here on such short notice. Can I pull you aside for a chin-wag, away from the crowd? There are actually a couple of things I'd like to discuss."
'A chin-wag? Is she asking me to do coke?' Cat thought, but as her eyes moved slightly beyond Abby to her Selebrity team, they were highly suggesting non-verbally that she take this meeting with Abigail. "Right this way," Cat said, placing her glass of champagne on a nearby sever tray before leading the blonde back to her preparation room for a private conversation.
Once in the privacy of Cat's quarters, the Liafador beauty immediately slipped out of her heels before pouring a new glass of Rouka that she'd secured from her brother. The alcohol being served on the party floor was for show, it'd never get her drunk or even buzzed, but this alien stuff was the bee's knees.
"Let me just start by saying Ms. Aensland. I absolutely do not do drugs anymore. So if this is one of those conversations, I'm just going to go..."
Well that was easy, Abby thought, pleasantly surprised. I didn't mean this far away—she groaned internally, never forgetting their companyand already imagining the headlines—but as long as you're amenable I can deal with a few rumors. She expected Catalina to at least vet her for her purpose, but then again she expected the reformed Liafador to give her a hard time entirely.
Glancing semi-approvingly around the room, Abby pretended not to notice or be jealous of Catalina discarding her shoes or having a drink waiting. Homefield advantage I guess.No wonder she wanted to come all the way back here.
All amusement faded as Catalina addressed her. Her face contorted in confusion, then incredulity.
What the f—...Okay, Chance having no idea who she was had been endearing, especially at that time in her life, but she never accused Abby of being a...What exactly is she accusing me of? There were far too many implications, all of them downright disrespectful.
But she needed Catalina. Swallowing her pride, Abby wiped her expression clean and forced a smile that clearly said "I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that."
Okay, she sighed. Common ground. Understanding is the first step in all negotiations. At that, her heart dropped into her stomach. She suddenly realized she'd never been any good at negotiations. Somehow, against all odds, they always seemed to end with her in a fight, no matter how determined she was to avoid one at the outset. She also realized that she and Catalina didn't seem to have much in common, apart from wealthy families and charity work. But Cat was one of the few "good" Liafadors who seemed to exist (how was that even possible?), and Chance was about the sweetest human to ever walk the planet. So then...it made sense that she and Cat got along, right?
God, how desperate must she have been to be relying on this kindergartener's logic?
"Then you'll be happy to know I'm not in the relapse business," said Abigail, fidgeting slightly, uncomfortably. Her thoughts cleared as she shifted her focus, her smile came more naturally and words began to flow. "I actually really like what you're doing, I love the changes you've made, and I'd be extremely interested in talking later about a collaboration."Now the hard part. "But...I'm actually here right now to talk about your family." Locking eyes, she adjusted her stance, readying in case she needed to dive while hopefully not breaking an ankle if things got violent.
"I'm not sure how much you know, but I've worked with Chance...a bit, recently. She...died"—Abby swallowed hard. It actually hurt—"but now she's back, and she's okay. And she told me...that you you'd know where to find Zeon."
There. She could stamp it there. Not too much, just enough to give a hopefully clear implication while allowing herself to gauge Catalina's reaction and response, and Abigail to then adjust accordingly.
As the night ran dry with chill, and silence drew the sound of wind whistling through the creak in the window, the moon hovered out of sight. The bedroom fell into hollow sight, as shadows filled the dark with unknown motion. Crawling up the wall, stretching across the blank abyss of the wall, and tucking for cover, the closet moaned and groaned. Bringing chills along the petite spine of the sleepless lass, lying deep in the center of her fluffed bed. Gripping the flowery covers over her figure, up to the fidgeting lashes of her teary eyes. Having to sleep alone for the first time, in her own airy room, the little girl tremble onto the verge of weeping for her mother. Too frightened to even reach over and tap on her nightstand-side lamp, her huge eyes of amber dilated against the vacuum of darkness, trying to catch her deepest fears.
Slender men of crickley black posture disguised themselves outside her window pane, clawing at the walls like animals, with their branching fingers. As the most vicious of vampires played peek-a-boo with their play, eyeing her from behind the closest door, each tipping rub confirmed it. With ghosts hovering in and out of existence, terrorizing her youthful imagination, she whipped her sights to the beast waiting to launch from the other side of her bedroom door. She felt the spiders crawling from the ceiling over her castle-designed headboard and into the wrinkles of her uncomfortably cold blankets. Making her look back to see her headboard, and the wooden wolf totem that hung from it by a leather strap, her grandmother said it would watch over her. But, the lass didn’t feel protected. Feeling tears build in her eyes, her little fingers squeezed the rim of her covers, ready to whip it over her petrified face, once the boogeyman finally pounced upon her from the foot of her bed. And, at the squeaking sound of attic space above her room, reached up and grabbed the totem without thought, before sliding back under her covers completely. Hoping the boogeyman, slender man, ghost, ghost and vampire didn’t all strike, she closed her eyes and gripped the solid wood wolf up to her chin. Whispering for help, she lied still and frozen.
And, before she could go numb, she smelt a strong aroma of sugarcane and palo santo, before feeling a pressure upon the edge of her bed. As she grew warmer and warmer, she peeked her head out from underneath the covers, to see a shadowy figure sitting upon the bed. With a birth of illumination, a flame bloomed within the hands of a man. Held by the golden red fire, as much as it was held by him, the little girl could see his crowning Afro, hugging his brown head. Still frozen in uncertainty, she found her eyes caught on the flame dancing at the tip of his cigar. Releasing the smell of rich earth, the natty man calmly looked down upon her petite frame and smiles with gentle knowledge.“Hola, mi cheré...do yuh kno’ who mi are, si?”, his crooning voice flowed through the distance between them with soothingly low vibrations. Leading to her sending him a ‘no’ through silent head motion, the man’s smile grew large to the opportunity to have a new friend.“Well, mi cheré, mi name fi be Xango. Baron Xango...and, that’s mi totem”, he whispered in a warmingly low tone, pointing at her wolf totem. Taking a few deep breaths, gesturing for her to breath with him, he worked to calm her down. Speaking in his broken mix of English and Spanish Creole, she understood him within her core. “Yuh abuela fi chat wit I ‘bout ye. She fah tell mi yuh fear di dark? Di bump inna night...”, he looked around the room, as he alerted the poor little girl that her wise old living ancestor sent him to her bedside. Her eyes lit up at the thought of her dear granny, whom was back home in Florida.
“Sabe que, niña, when mi wa’ but ah child, mi fah call di graveyard mi home. Down dere, we fi have many ghouls anna wicked beast dem. Tu sabe?”, he spoke color into his speech and mannerisms,“...mi dear mother gave mi ah wolf-dog named Rojo. He fi watch mi anna scared away di ‘ole ah monster dem.”. As she watched him speak, staring at the many colourful beaded necklaces and bracelets he wore, as he sat facing her upon her fluffy blanket, she felt as if a heater was underneath her. His dog appeared upon her bed, with raven black fur and large puppy eyes, taking a place beside her. Rojo cuddled up beside her, within her little arms, giving her the lighthearted safety of companionship. While his illuminated figure glowed like a night-light, she listened to his nurturing words.“...di canine dem, dey fi follow mi anna work wit mi...so, dat totem yuh fi clutch tightly so. As long as yuh fi keep it near ye, I an I shall be one...For, mi eye lie pon dem eye. Mi ear rest pon dem ear...dat dere totem shall be mi window pon yuh, tu sabe?”, he instructed the little girl to keep the totem as Xango’s view to her. Though, looking at him and his modest figure, she wondered if she would match up to the boogeyman. And, he smiled with a huff of heated breath, knowing her worries.“Mi cheré, mira aqui...”, he showed her his gaudy revolver. So grand and captivating, she sat up a little, before reaching for it.“No no, niñaita...mi papa gave dis ti mi. For, upon grip ah its trigger, I shall aim lightning anna fire. No bump inna night fi stand wit I!”, his smile was filled with childish confidence to convince her.
“Now sleep child...Rojo anna I will be here, pon ye. Anna, though we’ah be gone pon yuh wake, remember dat Dios mio, Madre Maria, yuh saints, yuh ancestors, and I shall forever watch over yuh...”, rubbed her head like a reassuring older brother walking beside his sister on her first day to school, she took a long smirking look at him before cuddling Rojo and closing her eyes to sleep. And, with a deep drag of his cigar, Xango turn his attention to the darkness of her room,“...Quien se encuentra el fuego se ir a la tumba”, he muttered out to any evils lingering around.
He swung around the city trying to reach a certain destination. A vacant spot he agreed to fight a reptilian-like figure that goes by the name Death Swiper. The Recluse has heard of him, has called him out via social media multiple times, through interviews, etc. Some don't like his methods, believe he's a show-off and does hero work simply for himself but at the same time, he has quite the following and is kind of a social media celebrity. People love him for being outspoken, looking out, and giving back to the people, and the fact that he doesn't hide his identity. Back to the soon-to-the-fight [assuming Death Swiper shows up], Recluse stopped and began to hang upside down on a web with his phone in hand prepping for a pre-fight selfie.
Go big or go home, that was Matt’s philosophy. If he was going to make a name for himself as a player, he needed to take down the best. As such he choose the social media wonder known as ‘Recluse’ for his first victim for after he fell, so would the rest. With little to no respect for the man he agreed to face him one on one inside a vacant spot, but as a villain he had no intent on keeping that promise. Instead he choose a place where everyone could see the fight go down, a place near the center of town, the top of the channel 8 news building, located in the heart of L.A. Twenty stories tall Matt stood ready to fight on the roof top, with the channel 8 copters circling around him. Down below on the streets, reporters scurried around with cameras while the police were busy blocking off the area. Although it was late in the day and the sun was slowly setting, the spotlight from the copters lit the area.
Unfortunately for the fans, the Recluse was still nowhere to be seen, leaving Matt thinking he was a coward, still he was anxious for a fight. But even though he was more than confident he could crush the hero, he still had an ace up his sleeve. Standing on the edge of the roof in his right hand he held a lady reporter, screaming and begging for her life. To him she was nothing more than a pawn to give him the edge once his opponent would show up. For at the moment the Recluse was in sight, he would say something insulting like, “Before we fight, I thought you might like a game of catch!” at which point he would let her go, plummeting twenty floors to her inevitable death. But he would only do this out of spite, not to take advantage of the situation but only to watch and observe his enemy in action. He would wait patiently on the roof top for him to arrive, and let the festivities commence. But again he would only drop the reporter if he were to see his enemy coming, or should he have enough time to react after being surprised.
The spider's phone started to blow up, getting overwhelmed with messages about where his opponent was, the danger he's putting a civilian in. "Shit!" he yelled out of frustration, rushing to the area, thinking to himself "Luckily I'm not too far away, or otherwise it'd be an even bigger deal 'cause no telling how many people this thug is willing to kill."
Five minutes or so has passed and he's swinging as fast as he could and then suddenly his recluse senses went off, alerting him that his target was very nearby, and around the next corner, he turned and saw him with the reporter in hand, threatening her life. The crowd screamed as soon as he arrived. Not wasting any time to meet and greet however he shot a web in the direction of Death Swiper, particularly aimed at the reporter so he could safely take her away from him. If this move was successful he'd say "What's up with you villains and picking on defenseless women? How about messing with someone who can fight back? You know, like, myself for example? Is it because you're scared of a REAL challenge? Yeah, let's go with that." All while bringing her to safety. He would ask if she's okay and she'd respond with a nod of approval, still in a frightening state after facing a near-death experience. "Whenever you're feeling better call me or shoot me a DM," he said in a friendly manner before focusing on the man that put her life in danger from the start. "It's me and you now bad boy, no more games. If you want to play with a life how about toying with mine? That won't go well for you either, but attacking the defenseless is just pathetic." Then he would run towards his opponent and attempt to punch him in the face. It was a sloppy way to start a fight but he had his recluse senses to fall back on. Of course, this is assuming everything goes according to plan.
The waiting was getting annoying and the fact that the fans loved their hero’s spontaneous arrivals bugged him even more. The only thing Matt was looking forward to was dropping the screaming reporter to her death. Suddenly, the sound from the crowd below began to change as “Oohs” and “Ahhs” became cheers that grew louder with every second. Already Matt was thinking ‘He’s here’ as his grip grew tighter around the reporter’s leg, but before he dropped her, he had to be sure. Just for the simple sadistic need to look into Recluse’s eyes as he dropped her to her death. But by foolish luck, as he looked down at the cheering crowd below, his enemy made his guest appearance from the other side. Before he knew it, the Recluse had shot forth one of his webs at the reporter, then quickly snatched her from Matt’s grip, before he even knew what happened. ‘Quick little bastard’ Matt thought as he cracked his knuckles in anger, ‘but he won’t get away with that twice.’ But just as the Recluse was sweeping the damsel in distress to safety, he would not be who he was without hurling another insult. "What's up with you villains and picking on defenseless women? How about messing with someone who can fight back? You know, like, myself for example? Is it because you're scared of a REAL challenge? Yeah, let's go with that."
Immediately, in a dark echoing tone, Matt responded back with a full blown, “Oh you come down here and I’ll show you a real challenge!” But by now the Recluse was circling back for round two after seeing to the reporter’s safety and quite possibly getting her phone number, only to come in kicking with another of his clever gabs. "It's me and you now bad boy, no more games. If you want to play with a life how about toying with mine? That won't go well for you either, but attacking the defenseless is just pathetic." He then lunged forward leading the way with his fist cocked and ready, in an ill attempt to strike the Death Swiper in the face. But for some reason the Recluse came in awkward, or at least not fully committed to the strike, as his attempt could be described as ‘Sloppy!’ But for what ever reason, Matt was going to take full advantage of it! Just as the punch was coming in, Matt snickered back, “I don’t play around kid, I came to win!” as he leaned back to avoid the strike. In effect the Recluse’s punch would sail on by, missing his face by inches. Not done yet Matt would then, lean back in with a punch of his own. If successful, he would use his massive speed and strength to land a single blow right into the Recluse’s gut, once in range and hopefully do some damage rather than simply knocking out the wind! Again, If successful!
The Californian sun lit the sky like a glowing quarter in the air, counting the rolling clouds with each ray that it sent down upon the earth. As the rapid winds of the fall ran through the city, children ran through the yard of the grade school lot, lollygagging as younglings do. Playing and laughing under a blanket of light, few noticed the solitude of little Nina. With long brown hair and rosy cheeks of amber complexion, the frail little six year old girl. Sitting along a cobblestone trail that bordered a plot of flowers, surrounding a small tree. Large enough to bring shade from the drying sun, while still being quite small in comparison to the many others. Dropping acorns and the faint scent of an earthy whiff of warm nuts and vanilla butter.
Bobbing her head in unison with the rhythm in her head, she had been sitting to herself for the past thirty minutes of her hour recess. As she’ve done for the latter majority her first month of first grade. Under the same tree, away from everyone else, the usually quiet girl sat and sang to the wind; catching the attention of the teachers, surprised she still hadn’t joined the rest of the children yet. They’d thought first-day-jitters would have faded awhile ago. However, little Nina was still isolating herself. And even moreso, she was often caught holding conversations with herself. While the others played with each other, building closer bonds, she only spoke to what presumably was her imaginary friend. And, her teacher - Miss Arial DeAngel - watched attentively to the lass. Sitting in the bloom of flowers and shrubs, the little brunette had paid more attention to the critters of the earth than the other children around her. Still shying away from others, into the old garden of the school, she was very outspoken and playful with herself. Needless to say, Miss Ariel was curious about the little girl. So, she began wandering over to the end of the playground. Where the shrubs cornered off a private area that once was a garden, now overgrown with plantlife and the remains of wooden benches and plots, only a few faculty members sought after the area; until now.
The smell of stuffed fertilizer bags and acorn mixed in the air, as the sun lit the path of patched cobblestones in the loose dirt. “My mom told me tha-that guitar players get bad fingers from how hard their strings are!”, the highly pitched voice of the lass rang faintly in the air, as Ariel walked. Obliviously to the twenty-something year old woman, the innocent face partially stared toward the tree behind her. As if something was actually there, Nina looked back to it. “-THOSE string!”, the little girl laughed out with a jeering point of her hand at the tree. And, a confused expression subtly grew upon the teacher’s face, as the widened eyes of Nina witnessed what no one else would bare sight of he friend and protector.
Sitting right beside her, under the woody trunk of the young tree, the browned figure of the Baron sat. With a guitar within the hands of his lap, his smirk gripped a unlit cigar, before he removed it to speak. “Mi suppose...if yuh fah be old!...some folk fi play fah too long, si?” (t/s:I suppose...if you’re old...some people play for too long, yes?), he placed his cigar in his thick locked of a afro, bushing out much kin to the tree he sat under. Wearing a loosened guayabera shirt of white linen and a hugging pair of blue workers jeans, Xango’s white chukka boots tapped the dirt as he strummed. Creating the texture of classically softened nylon riff, as he filled their midst with olden folk rhythms. “-how long have You b-been playing?”, she lit into the question with gusto for answers. Getting humming pause, the spirited man answered back, “...nearly three hundred years”, he muttered, focusing on his strumming, as the little girl childishly giggled at his reply. “No...you can’t-you ca-couldn’t have played THAt loong! No one lives that long”. She eyed him, as he insisted, against her still developing understanding of realism. Eventually convincing her, her eyes widened with a bit of glee, “like Santa Claus?!?”.
“Nonono, mi chere, mi fi be cooler, seen?” (t/s: No no no, my dear, I'm cooler, understand?), he jokefully shutdown her comparison. As she laughed out a disagreement, leading to a bit of a childish back and forth, she asked how. “Well...”, Xango sat a bit stumped as to how he should answer. “Premarimente, mi caan still bar’ witness pon mi waistline! Halloween ta mejor que Christmas, Mi caan sing, dance, anna play many instruments...all Santa fah do issa spend all year freezin’ anna writing his bumba list. Plus, mi nah haf no itchy beard!” (t/s: Firstly, I can still see my waistline! Halloween is way better than Christmas, I can sing, dance, and play numerous instruments...all Santa can do is spend all year freezing and writing his silly list. Plus I dont have no itchy beard!), he huffed as if he was her age, with a stream of heat vapors steaming from his lips, as he exhaled. Making the little girl laugh at how angry he appeared to be, she leaped to her feet at pointed to his face. “Uhhu!! You do have a beard! Right there!!!”, she pointed at the stream of wavy hair flowing down the jawbone of the Caribbean spirit.
“No...dose fi be muttonchops, nah na beard, child!” (t/s: No...those are muttonchops, not no beard, child!), his deep voice crooned in protest of her observation. Feeling disrespected, Xango placed his cigar between his lips and pretended to ignore her teasing of him. As Nina hopped up and down, playfully pointing and lollygagging jingles of him having a beard. And, in the midst of their playfulness, Xango caught sight of the teacher approaching the little girl. Drawing a bayed smirk, he lit his thicken smoke with the force of his own breath, as the teacher spoke.
***
With fuzzy blonde hair shagging down to her shoulders, and a huge smile of comfort, the young woman called out to the dancing little first grader. Presumably pointing at a tree and jeering, the teacher spoke up, “um...Nina. Would you like to join the other children and I? We were about to play a game of hopscotch.”. With a sweet tone of voice, Miss Ariel watched as the small lass turned to face her. With startled eyes and a bit of a gasped part in her mouth, Nina cheesed a smile. “No thank you!”, she assertively stated, with a glare over the frightening uncertainty that still laid in her uncomfortability with the other children. “Don’t you wanna play a game? It’ll be fun...I promise”, she tried to sway the little lady, who just swayed back and forth within her tiny little boots. “It’s okay...I’m fine”, Nina’s eyes looked to the large butterfly that was drawn to the smell of Xango’s heated essence.
Leaving the woman to wonder how to reach the girl, she changed the subject. “Hey! I heard you singing earlier...you have a sweet voice. Would you mind singing for me, a bit?”, she tried to connect to the little lassy. Turning to look at the afroed saint that filled her mind with the rhythm of the guitar and drum, and the smell of sugarcane and heat, Xango shrugged a ‘I don’t know’ gesture at her, expressing his decision to leave Nina to her own path; before returning to tuning his guitar. And, just as the teacher looked in the direction the lass was staring, only seeing the acorn tree, Nina returned eye contact with her. “I don’t know...I only sing whe…..when my friend plays his guitar….”, opening up about the saint, Ariel leaned down, placing her reddish hands upon the high blue denim that wrapped her knees, she made eye contact with the girl. Leaving Ariel a bit stumped and in wonder, the young teacher continued, “Who’s your friend?”.
“Xango!”, Nina kinda bopped up an inch taller with the energetic exclamation of the name of her friend. Getting a pondering reaction from the woman who vocally mispronounced the name as ‘Sango’ on her attempt. “...what is Xango like?”, Ariel asked, with a nonchalant laugh under her voice. “He’s THIS tall!”, she breathed, trying to reach her hand up with a jump to bring herself to not even halfway to Xango’s true height, “-he has huge hair and beards over his ears, that he calls ‘muffin’. He-he wears funny shirts and rings. And he plays the guitar and always wants to dance. AND, he-he smells like my abuelo (t/s: grandfather)!”. She explained in a ramble of a description. Getting a confused look from the teacher, who immediately noticed this ‘Xango’ sounded more like a grown man than what would normally be an imaginary friend. “Nina...how did you meet Xango?”, she said in a bit of a serious tone. “He’s my abuela’s friend...they’re from the same island. Sh-she sent him to keep the bad things away!”, she called out in exclamation, as if her tone was to scare the boogeymen of the world; even pumping her chest out with brave gusto. She reached out and showed Ariel her wooden wolf totem. Given to her by her grandmother, it connected her to the saint that swore to look after her and her family.
Ariel became consciously curious of this ‘friend’,"....Nina, where is this friend now?", she asked in her soft voice of warmth. Getting a break of contact, the little girl dawned an expression of doubt. With knowledge that some couldn’t see Xango, the small one had been through such an instance before. Unsure if she would see him, Nina pointed under the shade of the tree. Where she saw the tanned spirit playing the guitar, Ariel gazed at the bark of wood, seeing no person. Only the garden bed of flowers that surrounded the tree lay bare to the sight. But, Nina recalled,".....he said, if you close your eyes, you'll see him", in a low tone of voice. Convincing the nonbelieving lady to close the blue eyes, that were covered by a thin frame of glasses. Thinking about the description of the tall, bushy haired figure named Xango, the blackness of her non-sight was trickled with the ambiance of nature for a few seconds. And gently, under the rustling of leaves and whistling wind, she heard the building sound of guitar strings being vibrated. Trilling in a Spanish arpeggio, Ariel’s eyes popped open at the ghostly sound; only to find that she was alone. With only Nina around her, the older lady darted her head around, finding no one with a guitar in hand. However, the strumming continued in her head.
“...Do you heard that?!”, she called out to the little girl. Suddenly smelling the scent of roasted sugarcane, Tripping her mind with confusion, the blonde woman looked back at the tree, as she continued hearing the guitar. Louder and louder it got in her ears, as her widened eyes stared at the nothingness of this guitarist’s absence. “You hear him!” Nina smiled, finally finding someone who also witnessed him. Sending chills through her nerves, and a wave of heat upon her head, the woman walked up to the tree, expecting someone to be behind it. Only discovering more air, as her eyes soured for any explanation to the now-perfectly audible folk tune that was vibrating through her mind. With the rising of heat through each step of her ascent only the garden square, she heard the child ask a question out of the blue. Shooting through the unknown, “Miss Ariel, Xango wants to know if you’re a Celt?”. She got a questioning stare from the older lady, as Nina foolishly quenched up her face and tilted her head at what a Celt even was. As Ariel, too, pondered why she would use such a old term.
“...my great grandparent were from Derry-”, she muttered, thinking to her great grandmother, from Ireland. When the strumming overtaking her mind began to sway into a distinctly Irish jig, she was flushed with the smell of dew covered lowlands, as the arpeggio rocked like the knock of a bard's tune. Joined by the aroma of turf burning, her back tingled with the coziness of the state that she was in. Though, he mind was still so off-taken, as she walked around the tree, still listening to the strumming. Ariel fell into a focus search, as she began to hear hums and lolly croons.“Xango said his mom was from Ireland...", Nina quoted the spirit. "Mi mama would always have a the most soothing of fires brewing, these windy days...she knew how much I loved the heat. I'd sit under her, and listen to her whistle the sea shanties of your forefathers.”, Ariel froze, as a deep croon came from the small rosy face that could never natural achieve such a baritone. As Xango spoke through the girl, the teacher could feel her heart drumming beneath he chest, joining his hymn. "I owe much gratitude to that woman, who didn't have to take in my lost soul. Yet, she did.....I can see her blood within you. The same blood of the berried highlands and the dew spring. The Isle of Brigid", his voice spoke in a clarity that he normally didn't use. "...this baby is going through many terrors. And, she doesn't trust many - I will be there for her. But, if you wouldn't mind assisting me, here? She could use as many warm flames as she can get...at such a tinder age", his crooning voice echoed through her core, right as the school bell vibrantly buzzed through the yard. Jolting the teacher out of her anxiousness, she felt faint in her mind, as she looked down to the little girl, who was walking back into the classroom.“C’mon Miss Ariel!”, she waved for the teacher, as Ariel looked around her, in a state of confusion. No longer hearing anything, but the ringing of the class bells, she quietly followed Nina back into their rooms. Looking back at the tree, her eyes caught sight of a black rooster strutting in the garden bed, frolicking around the tree in a dance. Jiving behind the trunk in a vanish of air, Ariel became cold as she returned.
The Bison Priest is like a man-shaped heap of glass. Rough on every edge, but secretly vulnerable nonetheless. So, he maintains sharpening habits to harden himself against the regular life-threatening activities of being a living weapon. Beware! He is a beast that crawled out the pits of America's ghettos. A problem-starter, who prays at the altar of black magic and blood spill. He's "The Quiet Man" in the echos of the underground, but in Downtown Los Angeles, he had hoped to become something else...
Another sunny day in LA, followed by a chilly night downtown. The Quiet Man emerges from the shadows on his soundless chopper. The one that silently makes the asphalt quake and bones rattle.
Tonight's mark was a career racketeer, moonlighting as a politician. Same 'ol, same 'ol. The Quiet Man rumbled through the bowels of the parking garage on South Olive until he found his mark in the underground levels. Where the air is the thinnest and you can hear the white lights hum. The mark brought backup- eight killers - with a few bludgeons and snub-noses between them. Nothing new. The Quiet Man even recognized a few of the pistols that must've been looted off of the dead bodies that lay in the wake of his previous work. The Quiet Man pulls his sword from its sheath. It feels heavier than usual. He'd trained himself not to ponderer on the effects his work has on the city too much. Nothing is new under the sun, not even in a new city or in the pits of humanity.
The politician boasts, and the wagers. The usual- turn away while you can- stuff.
The Quiet Man still smoothly steps off his chopper, with the blade in his hand stabbing the ground before either foot. The ground is cursed in smoking incantations that stretch between the 20 feet separating this 8-on-1.
Then, the politician boasts again. Everyone in the parking lot knows firing a gun will blow this whole operation up, so it's obviously a last resort, but The Quiet Man is here, so every desperate soul in the room with a gun, pointed their barrels towards the face of the beast with a sword. The Quiet Man doesn't flinch and that is when the politician thought, oh shit.
The biggest two out the eight killers hired by the politician attempt a blitzing brass-knuckle and steel-bat barrage on the Quiet Man. He catches the bat coming down over his head and keeps the brass-brawler at bay with the edge of his sword.
In one swift sway; The Quiet Man lobs off the hand of his opponent with the bat and repurposes the bludgeon to sweep the other off their feet, where normally, they would then fall to the ground, but this opponent fell into a black magic wormhole. A blinding spiral dimension he summons every blue moon to transport victims into the nexus of life and death that stretches into infinite helplessness. The long fall that overrides all logic and jettisons the brain into panic mode several times over. Over the crest of this wormhole was basically cosmic madness on earth. Bystanders to the scene of the fight questioned everything peeking into the unfathomable horrors that just engulfed one of their own. The screaming of both fallen killers now seemed infinite in the pit of the garage.
The Politician is the first to snap out of the mind-numbing shock. There's another wager in the form of a quiver, so it is mostly lost in the guttural screams. The politician can tell his killers were willing to do "hard time" for the pay, and they may have even expected to die, but not like that. No one thinks about the mental ramifications of battling the unknown unknowns until things get horrific.
The fighter that lost their hand swallowed some screams for a moment to witness the Devil in their pool of blood. In the red reflection, there was The Quiet Man extending the business end of the bat towards the Politian's crew.
"I've been meaning to try something new here, starting with-"
Gunshots roar in the belly of the garage. The chopper shakes the earth. The streets chatter behind many masks as usual, but people at the epicenter feel a difference. They just don't know what to make of it yet.
The other end of the black magic wormhole opens up in the cold, thin air of the night. The continuous screaming acts like a siren for its dreaded arrival. The other end of the wormhole opens up on Skid Row.
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