Post by Clara Winslow on Jun 20, 2018 21:40:39 GMT
Clara couldn’t stop the shake of her fingers since she left Marty in the hands of those GADEM bastards, her mind was racing and adrenaline refused it’s hold over her, all in all she just felt like utter crap. She didn’t say much following the obscure stranger who drug her out of the heat of Felix’s absolute wrath. Her mind was numb and folding in on itself with worry and guilt, it was almost crippling but she had no choice other than move forward. She’d fight until her last breath if it meant she could save Marty from GADEM’s dark purposes, surrendering wasn’t as much of an option anymore with those assholes killing anyone who got in their way. On top of her worry for the man she loved, the man she drug into a deep conspiracy and vengeful purpose, she had to live with the sight of Joey slumped in his own pool of dark blood. How would she ever look Marty in the eyes again knowing she led to the death of his brother?
“Seriously? What the fuck, it’s not like this night can get any stranger”, she looked at the abandoned traits marking the indoor water park with an ironic roll of her eyes, “or worse”. The last of her words were as soft as a glum whisper, her voice was still raspy and coated in anger. Clara knew she looked like shit, faded jeans and a shirt donning Marty’s goofy photo covered in her blood. Her face was battered and bruised, she was almost sure the purple stain of painful flesh marked her stomach where that GADEM bitch kicked her. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to see the deep gash tearing into the skin over her nose, not to mention the dried blood making half her face look like a crimson mask, she could still taste the iron touch to her lips and teeth. Besides, it all just fucking hurt.
Stepping inside, she didn’t care much about the cracked décor and weird setting, she grasped the cold metal railing leading down a small set of stairs and lowered her down to catch her breath after an agonizing turn of events. Clara lowered her face into her hands with a painful grunt, took a long inhale of breath and turned her head to look at the masked savior. “Thanks for dragging me out of that whole drama”, she painfully grasped the railing and pulled herself to her feet with more effort than usual. Her arm hung uselessly by her side but fixing the dislocation was the absolute least of her problems. Nevertheless, she walked up to the sharp corner of a wall she suspected used to be an administrative office before the place shut down.
With a curious glance to the stranger she drew her shoulder back with a low, painful hiss, “look, the whole secret identity and robot voice is cute and all but this really isn’t going to work if I’m staring at two crosses and a stitched smile the whole time”, she didn’t have time for useless theatrics and much less cloak and dagger shit when she was desperate to get back on her feet if only to somehow get back to Marty. Clara shoved her shoulder into the wall with a painful groan, it didn’t work, it was excruciatingly obvious when she still couldn’t use the damn arm.
She shut her eyes exasperated before turning fully to the splashdown, “looks like I’m gonna need a little help”, while her nod was focused on the useless dislocation of her shoulder she meant it in a more broad perspective. Clara was outgunned, a physical mess and emotionally scarred and facing those two assholes again seemed somewhat challenging, enough that it brought a freezing touch to her mind at the awful idea of how wrong things could go.
She waited to hear the audible pop in her shoulder, her lips parted in a loud gasp of pain before she moved away from splash down to grasp the closest chair she could and leaned over in hopes of catching her breath. She hadn’t felt so awfully in pain in at least two years and it drove a gut wrenching fear to the core of her being.
“Please just tell me you have a first aid kit around here somewhere, or at least a fucking beer”, her eyes shut for a brief second as she tried regaining her composure. She hated being weak, every second of it bore through her sole and left her more broken than being physically entrapped in pain. “Why the hell were you even there in the first place?”, she spoked the words softly but in the empty space it almost echoed, she just wanted revenge and a whole lot of it.
The park was abandoned. Had been for a few years now. Jesse used to come here when he was a kid. Back when the world was normal. Some safety hazard violations left the park a shell of it's former self. A ghost fading away in memories of once happy children. He honestly couldn't remember a happier time in his life. The park was called Splashdown. The big Orange lettere spashed against a blue background cut out in the shape of waves; flimsily resting on wobbly plywood.
He looked up at the sign while donning his mask. His glowing eyes not showing the utter joy of rememberance behind that painted stitched smile. He walked with a silence radiating around him like an aura. He didn't have much to say now. Most of the way here was quiet walking, mixed with the occasional groan of pain and questioning of how much further. Each time the answer was the same. "Not much further." He replied back with his cracking booming robot voice.
He had two spiked bracelets on his wrists. Though they were mostly decorative.... One of them had a button on the side that he could press to switch the robot voice on and off. A wireless reciever caught a signal from a microchip on a choker necklace around his neck. The vibrations of his voice hit the microchip with a built in speaker and boomed it back robotic and annonymous. Jesse was a bit of a nerd in his free time. He was always tinkering with gadgets and things. Swinging the iron gates open he was greeted by his paradise. He crashed here quite alot.
He had a home somewhere on the lower east side, but he spent very litte time there. His nights were spent darting across rooftops and dripping down walls. Cracking a few skulls. He liked to think of himself as an avenger of the night. Really he was just a dude with too much free time on his hands and way into comic books. A bit of his nerdy persona bled through into his super hero identity. He couldn't help it. He was just... Excitable sometimes. "Welcome... To the fortress of solitude!"
He exclaimed raising his arms to the sky. As he did rushes of water came bursting from two waters slides opposite each other. It was about as grand as a daul spiral stair case you sometimes see in fancy drug dealer's homes.. Only decidely more homeless and gruny looking. The slides had grafiti all over them and there was a mattress lying on the floor covered in dirt. A few discarded beer bottles from where some kids used to hang out here to get wasted. They hadn't came knocking around here in a long time. Maybe it had something to do with kids thinking this place was haunted. A few random water slides coming to life and you wouldn't believe how fast kids freak out.
Jesse was proud of his creation here. He allowed the flow of the water to continue. The sound of rushing water was soothing to his ears. He slipped off his jacket, and pulled his hoody down. The tips of his wild silver hair must've been quite a sight to see. Jesse kept his mask on. He liked feeling safe under the cool neon anonimity. The world was a dangerous place. As long as he was going out at night and taking the fight to dirtbags and fuckers he needed to keep his identity safe.
Believe it or not he had a family. Parents at least. They didn't know what he did as a hobby. They wouldn't approve. They didn't know what he did as a mutant either. They had no clue their happy perferct son was happy being imperfect and special. Jesse rolled up the sleeves of his black hoody as they made there way into one of the enclosures. Somewhere away from the cast light of the mood. Though He had an arsenal that could raise a few eyebrows.
Water balloons strapped around his waste light little grenads, more dangerous than they appeared and two lime green and orange water pistols that were plastic and see through nestled safely in the holster of a shoulder strap. He pulled out his guns and set them on the counter before undoing his grenade belt. Jesse was all cool and collected on the outside. Inside he was a livewire dancing on a spark! His heart was racing. He had never taken the fight directly to G.A.D.E.M. before.
They were just too powerful. He was one guy, but this girl.... She inspired him. He had become aware of her actions over the course of the last couple weeks. There had been no justice by his hand. Not when he was busy tailing this girl from her rendezous with various G.A.D.E.M. agents. He admired her work. A bit violent. But he was a guy who carried squirt guns as weapons. He wasn't opposed to violence, but he usually tried to wrap the badguy up in a neat little bow for the police. She questioned his mask. Splashdown's face gave away nothing as his eyes moved over her with cautious intent.
"This is not a mask. It is a symbol. It is a weapon I wield against the dregs of society. The evildoers with malice in their hearts it....." He stopped. He could see the dull uncaring look on her face. Jesse was a fan of theatrics. He was living a boyhood dream. To be a crime fighting superhero. And he was good at it! Maybe he got wrapped up a little to much in the theatrical side, but he also knew that the mask had a purpose. "You may call me Splashdown." He said.
Each word out of his voice sounded like it eminated from the pit of his stomach and traveled through a megaphone. Seeing her discomfort, at her suggestion he grabbed her arm.... "1....2... Pop! Good as new. I don't drink. I spend a good bit of time on rooftops. That's a good way to fall on your ass. I can get you patched up." He leaned over and grabbed first aid box from under the counter and handed it to her. There was a chuckle from beneath that mask of wire and neon. Even the laugh came out distorted and creepy. The laughing stopped when she asked him why he was there. He didn't have an answer that wouldn't make him seem suspcious so he came at her with thet truth. "Like I said. I need your help.
I've been hunting G.A.D.E.M. too. Not so much the killing part, but tracking their activity. They have a less secure facility on somewhere on the lower east side of Manhatten. They have at least a dozen mutants held there against their will. I would try to take it myself, but..... There's a kid there. A good kid. His name is Nathaniel. I can't get him out and keep him safe and taken on a couple dozened armed guards. This wasn't a rescue mission miss Winslow. This was a recruitment. You know more about G.A.D.E.M. Then anyone. Where they go. How they think.... I need you. Help me.... And I'll help you rescue your friend."
His rolled up sleeves revealed his detailed and intricate tattoos sleeves staining the skin of each arm. The colors were bright and vibrant and eye catching in the moonlight. He had a very punk rock style. The spiked bracelets the hoody. Even his belt was studded with silver and black and he wore the belt buckle on the side of his hip instead of the traditional way, right in the middle like normal people. He was intersting and mysterious and maybe even a little crazy, but if you can't trust a mask wiedling vigalante who can you trust? His hand kept extending waiting for her to shake his hand or smack it away. Either or depending on her temperment.
Last Edit: Jun 20, 2018 22:35:12 GMT by Splashdown
Post by Clara Winslow on Jun 20, 2018 23:03:01 GMT
Clara supposed she would have cared more for the cute theatrics if she didn’t feel like shit, but then again dramatic antics weren’t exactly something she thrived at. She didn’t have an intricate concealment of her identity, she didn’t wear uniquely iconic outfits or masks to conceal her identity because she didn’t leave witnesses. The agents she crossed ended up dead by her hands, if her actions were fueled by pure passion to protect others and lacked the thick coating of anger and vengeance she supposed a secret identity would have been a priority. Still, she found his unique appearance somewhat appealing, it was a nice change of pace from the night she endured.
She rolled her eyes at his almost inspiring ideals about the mask that kept his true identity secret from her, if he didn’t want to take it off she’d simply deal with it. There were worse things she could be stuck enduring, torture being on the very top of that list. “Well, you already know who I am apparently”, she was angry at herself for the most part, both GADEM and some strange vigilante discovered her identity and it was a cruel reminder that she fucked up somehow. A mistake or perhaps more than one that led to Joey’s death, Marty’s capture and one hell of a fucking headache.
She slowly rotated her arm, trying to regain the full range of motion of an extremity she needed for the fight against GADEM. The first aid kit was forgotten for a few long moments as she swam in the honest words leaving his lips, albeit robotic and strangely energetic. Clara listened to his every word, she had a rough idea what facility he was talking about. She was watching it nearly a month ago, nothing changed much. It was more a storage facility for mutants than it was a permanent prison, eventually they were transported to a more secure location she couldn’t dream of infiltrating with absolutely no backup. Her eyes flickered to her bloody fingers for a few seconds, she needed help getting Marty back and if helping splashdown rescue the mutants was the way she saved him then she’d happily comply.
Clara still donned some measure of uncertainty in the recesses of her mind, she was determined, strategic and absolutely ruthless and she wasn’t sure if working with someone else would end in a great win against GADEM or a hopeless failure. She shook her head, she refused to think about failure, it wasn’t an option even. Marty was her home, her whole world and she’d damn well walk through hell and back if it meant saving him.
Her gaze traveled to the vibrant colors decorating his skin, she didn’t hesitate slipping her hand into his for a firm shake. “We have five days to get into the facility and out, the mutants get transferred every two weeks”, a dark look washed over her face as ominous words ripped through her lips like the dangerous hiss of a viper, “we leave no survivors. Blow the place to shit and then we get Marty back and I’ll kill the assholes who took him”. Clara was pissed at GADEM’s ballsy attempt at her life, she was absolutely furious that they even lay a hand on Marty and she embraced the inhumane wrath that drove her kills with a happy grin.
“Just give me a second”, Clara slowly walked towards the door with the faded image of a little guy with a top hat comically identifying the bathroom, inside she turned the tap and welcomed the cold touch of the water to her face with a soft hiss. The blood that tainted her skin rubbed off and caressed the dirty borders of the basin, she still looked like shit in the dirty, faded mirror hanging askew on the wall.
Clara stepped back out very well aware of the purple bruise already staining her nose, the deep gash that still bled slightly and the cut donning her temple. It was more fuel to the inferno that drove her deeply rooted desire to fuck with GADEM and everything they stood for. She leaned against the doorframe with her foot loosely keeping the door from closing on her, “Okay, if we’re gonna screw with GADEM I have to know what other pretty tricks you have up your sleeve”, she paused for a second as a determined glint lit up in her striking gaze, “cause we sure as hell are gonna need them”. Clara knew she’d have to make a pit stop at Troy’s, he wasn’t in a very legal line of business but he owed her a few half a dozen favors and she knew he had the arsenal she needed to take on GADEM.
Her fingers slowly reached up to touch the gaping cut on her temple with a soft hiss, "I hope you're as good at stitches as you are with water, I'm gonna need some help with this one". Head wounds were a fucking mess, she rarely ended up with something so deep but Felix wasn't looking to be gentle in the least. At least for the first time she had backup, maybe just enough to really hurt GADEM.
Jesse's lips turned upwards in the pointed pull of a grin when she asked him what else he could do. Though you would never know it from the smile painted onto his neon mask. "Oh, you haven't seen anything yet...." He said with a cocky smirk. Nevermind the fact that this girl was basically bruised and battered. He relished the chance to show off his abilities. The worst part about being a vigalante was no one really got to see all the cool stuff you could do. Splashdown all but ignored her request for a stitch job. It was time for a demonstration. He had all the time in the world to patch up her ego after he had some fun.
Splashdown began to rise off the ground. A huge crashing wave came sweeping in fromt the water slide. Almost as if out of nowhere. He redirected it and sent it surging into his path. He jumped onto the wave and rode it like a surfboard. The wave moved with a heightened pitch and never seemed to break. The wave just kept chasing and chasing and growing wider and longer by the moment. It turned and changed direction. Riding upside down and into loopdy loops.
Splashdown left a trail of water behind him. The water seemed suspended in mid air. Every place he rode the water left a trail behind him until there were twisted up knots of running wave suspended in the air like time stood on the edge of it's seat. With all the loops and curves it looked like a water slide he was making of pure water. Perhaps a see through water slide that you could see the water on the inside of.... Maybe made of glass or see through plastic, but that's what it looked like.
The wave took a dramatic turn upwards. Straight up. He was still standing on this serpent of a wave until it reached it's pitch and he jumped off. Turning into water he shifted effortlessly. Sprinkling down over Clara like rain from the clouds that were not in the sky at the moment. Water splashed and sprinkled all over Clara, as if she were caught in a flash storm of rain. He dripped off her skin and really it was quite intimate...
Almost offensive how in theory he was so invading her personaly space. Droplets of water, droplets of him ran under her shirt and down her breasts, into her lacy bra that was meant only for Marty. He raced and moved down the touch of her skin... Droplets clinging and rolling down her arms, off the end of her hair and off the ends of her fingers..... Until there was a puddle beneath her feet. Two hands emerged from the puddle and they grasped her ankles. "HANG ON!" A deep robot voice shouted from withing the water around her feet. The vibrations of his voice cause tiny ripples in the puddle though his hands turned her into water with the same nausating effect. She bled into the puddle and became fluid and wet like him.
The puddle rolled over the edge of the legdge and down to a lower area below. Down below where there was a walkway, for a line of some coming attraction. A water ride that never quiet finished getting build. They rained together down onto the walk and as they spilled they reformed their human bodies. Like they were poured into a human shape mold that rebuilt them as they filled it. His skin was wet. His hair slicked back and flat agains his head as he started to run down the ramp. Jumping over the air he cleared the railing without even touching it. He just commited suicide! That fall was a 40 foot drop at least! He was caught by his wave that he rode like a pro! "I HAVE PLENTY OF TRICKS UP MY SLEEVE MISS WINSLOW!" H
e bellowed as the wave rode straight up, U-Turning in mid air and twisting so he was standing on top of the wave. The wetness on his skin, the droplets of loose water dripped down his wrist until it reached the palm of his hand. He formed it into the form of a whip and as the wave came crashing back towards Clara the wave died. It dropped from beneath his feet. Jesse cracked the whip, made entirely of water around a pole. It caught his momentum and swung him back onto the ramp Clara was on.... Some 40 feet in the air. He was a fucking dare devil. And he loved every second of it. Jesse, or Splashdown tosssed the whip over his shoulder. It wrapped around several times with a flick of his wrist.... Fluide and smooth.
Cocky and badass The whip rested on his shoulder until it seemed to absorb into his shirt.... Like his body reabsorbed a piece of him that was missing. "That was fun!" He said with a laugh.... He had to actually remind himself that she was in pain... That she had lost people tonight. He suddenly felt kind of bad.... Show boating was all well and good when you had an audience not fearing for the live of a loved one. Splashdown sat down. He pressed the button on his bracelet to turn off his special effects voice. "I'm sorry." He said in a voice that was a little cracky and not at all as tough as his robot voice.
"It's been awhile since I had someone to talk too...." That was the honest truth. He had his normal life. He was a grocery bagger at a supermarket, but he couldn't tell anyone about what he did. They would lock him up. Or think he was crazy. Probably both! Jesse looked at Clara for a long moment. His eyes moving along her figure.... He slowly reached up and pulled off his mask. The neon lights turning themselves off as the mask was removed.
He was just a kid. 24, but still pretty young. There was a level of immaturity there that was very Marty like. Marty would have honestly loved this guy and thought he was so rad, but Jesse just kind of felt like a jackass.... "My real name's Jesse." He said quietly. "Let's talk about how we're going to save your friend and I'll get you patched up." There was a smile on his face. Not a creepy stitched smile but an honest and genuine human smile.
Last Edit: Jun 21, 2018 17:35:18 GMT by Splashdown
Post by Clara Winslow on Jun 22, 2018 15:01:26 GMT
Clara could hardly blame him for showing off his unique talents, to some degree she imagined herself to be proud like he was if she was blessed with the complex mutation that turned regular men and woman into extraordinary heroes and villains alike. Having to bear the aches and pains from a messed up night was hardly anything new, her lips tilted into the ghost of a grin as she watched the wave sweeping in from the side like a perfectly controlled hurricane. It was amusing watching splashdown ride the fluid motion of the wave to his content, it wasn’t exactly a directly offensive technique against GADEM’s forces but it had a beautiful potential to induce the foggy delight of chaos to a degree that would shove GADEM right back on their asses.
“Showoff”, she muttered softly at the twists and turns, upside down venture along the border of the wave and not to mention the idea that there was an extremely happy grin dancing behind his mask. Clara felt like she was tearing herself in two, she knew worry for Marty was valid and human but she had to force her thoughts into the idea of a rescue and vengeful path instead, otherwise she thought she’d shatter into a million pieces.
She rolled her eyes with the phantom of a smile lingering on her lips at the soft touch of water droplets raining down on her, she felt exposed at the fluid motion of Jesse’s liquid form traveling down her skin regardless of the garments that held her intimate flesh from the sight of the world. She’d glare at him but it was futile, she wasn’t sure how his water form worked or if he even saw everything he touched with his fluid shift.
Clara yelped surprised at the sudden grasp at her ankles, a quick glare and another nauseating shift later she was happy to grasp the railing bordering the walkway for a quick reset in her balance. It was easily the weirdest feeling she ever endured, strangely enough it made the aches and pains of her solid form a little more bearable, to some degree she appreciated the constant reminder of what she needed to do to get her vengeance, to save Marty.
“Just Clara!”, she yelled out the simple request regardless if he still rode the fluid edge of the wave like a seasoned surfer with no fear for the long, fatal drop dancing below the old walkway. The crack of the whip was very real, she almost imagined it wrapping around Felix’s neck like a snake.
Any other day she might have laughed with him at the aspect of fun that accompanied his absolutely breathtaking ability, she never felt so weak as she did then though. Clara was brave, strong and the shattering worry of a mundane soul hardly ever brought a weakness to her legs and a teary wash to her gaze, she couldn’t help it with Marty’s life on the line. She loved him with all she was, all she had and she felt like the most important extension of her soul was crumbling and shattering at her feet and she was powerless to stop it.
Her eyes travelled from her feet to Jesse’s more than normal voice, the lack of a robotic cover was enough to set her nerves at ease to some degree. “Don’t apologize, you’re hardly the one to blame”, she was thinking about her own fuck up that led to GADEM discovering her identity and the mask donning his face was a painful reminder that she wasn’t careful enough to hide herself from the men and woman she hunted.
She nodded thankful at the slow motion of pulling his mask aside, the neon lights shut off and left her staring into the true identity of someone who was brave enough to face GADEM to save her life. He was a hero, as much as she was a murderer and every bit of his courage led to her survival. Clara wasn’t a stranger to the idea of torture, she didn’t want to think about what she’d have to endure if he didn’t pull her out, if he could have pulled out Marty instead she’d be happy to endure every torturous pain but there was still time to get him back in addition to the mutants trapped by the forces of GADEM.
She was almost entranced by the appealing touch of his appearance, a silver touch to the wet strands of his hair and an almost boyish charm to his features. “Jesse”, the name rolled off her tongue with a respectful nod, “your secret’s safe with me”. She meant it, no one would draw his name or his face from her mind if she could fight it, Clara would never turn against the people she strived to protect, mutants and humans alike but especially mutants.
“Yeah, we don’t have much time”, the words felt broken as they bled through her cracked lips. Clara turned to look over her shoulder at the end of the walkway, she was growing exhausted with each passing second as the adrenaline pumped out of her veins and left her victim to her wounds. “Uh, how the hell do we get back upstairs?”, she leaned against the railing with most of her support dancing in her palm holding onto the thick, cold steel.
“Thank you again, if you didn’t show up I’m sure I’d be knee deep in hell right about now”, she felt like she had to repeat her gratitude to his actual face, make the honest words more personal when she was sure he could see the truth in her gaze. Clara hoped she could shove the demons eating away at her conscience deep enough that he wouldn’t have to see the haunted touch of guilt to her stare as well, those were thoughts no one needed to pity her for. She hated being vulnerable, Clara did everything to be strong and she was right back where she started but this time she had the capability to drive her purpose forward with honed skills and a goddamn vigilante for backup. Somehow, everything just had to work out, one way or another.
She asked how they were getting back upstairs. Jesse smiled. There was a sweet sincerety to the pointed curls of his smile. His hand slipped down to his side and he waved his mask against his leg. It fastened there with a magnetic holster that gripped the metal on the back of the mask. The smiling stitched neon face came to life again. That bright blue and absurdly vibrant stitched smile staring happily at her thighs as it hung from his hip. "Fooooollow me. We're not going upstairs anyways." He said and walked down the ramp. There was a building at the end of the long ramp. The gift shop.
Inside where was an assortment of toys and t-shirts and various other things. He wanted to get her some fresh clothes first of all. Ones that weren't covered in blood and a painful reminder of what she had lost. Jesse was quiet. He had seen a deeper side of her than he had a right too. The hidden away secret fleshy side that was reserved for affeciton earned and not playfully taken, but he said nothing of the lacey and cute undergarments he saw as he passed beneath her clothes.
"Figured you'd want to change." He said pushing open a set of double doors. Insdie it was brightly colored walls of pink and sea greens. Orange and yellow crashed in a disgusting display of uncoridenated color colliding. The gift shop smelled vageuly musty and slightly of mildew. The years Jesse spent goofing around here splashing about as a being of water has made a few things wet over time and soaking up that moisture had caused the unpleasant smell. Restraint wasn't always his strong suite.
The decor wasn't great. But....Jesse grabbed a pink shirt that read "I had a blast in splashdown!" And tossed it to her. Seeing what the shirt actually said he blushed and averted his eyes. Jesse turned around and allowed her privacy to change. "So uh.... Your friend. He's not a mutant I take it? I mean, is he?" There as curiosity there in the pitch of his voice. Jesse had never met another mutant. As weird as it was to think about. He didn't generally just hang out with mutants on the corner of the street. And even if he had mutants were pretty tight lipped about their mutations if they could help it.
No one wanted to be the target of harrassment just for the sake of being different. Jesse turned around to see if she was done and realized she had just taken her shirt off. His eyes lingered a bit too long and when he got her attention with his oogling he promptly cleared his throat and turned back to look at the empty counter. "I know the agents that took your friend. Or more so, I know their names. Felix Russell and Alex Turner. They're assigned to the supervision of Adam Lithe. He's the big GADEM terd floating at the top of the toilet bowl."
Jesse said picking up a snowglobe and turning it over. He watched the snow rain down on a beach in Maui. The delighted smile that spread across his face was child like and goofy. He loved all this stuff. To most it was junk, but he found it comforting. They way that squeeky door in your bathroom was comforting because it blessed your consious mind with a hint of the familar and the same. "Doooon't know much about the guy.
But the woman, Alex. She's a real hard ass. They're real fucked up at the moment, but I wouldn't count them out." Jesse turned around. He saw that she was finished getting changed and smiled. Hositing himself up backwards onto the counter he allowed his feet to dangle over the edge. The back of his boots lightly tapping with uncoridation of his own. "Look... You're pretty fucked up yourself. Your nose is pretty twisted the fuck up, but it ain't exactly ugly. As much as I want to rescue Nathaniel, he's special... He's a brave kid and tougher than shit. But if you're friends just a humey then I say we make him the priority.
God knows those GADEM twats are going to be mad as hell and looking for a pound of flesh. But either way you're not going anywhere until you get a good night's rest. You just don't have it in you. Besides....." He said pressing the button to activate his robot voice. "WE NEED TO GEAR UP FOR WAR!" It almost sounded comical, the voice beaming from his decidely normal face. "There's a break room in the back. It has a comfy couch. You go sleep. I'll stand watch."
He said smiling and pulling out a cigarette. He looked down and cupped his hands to light the flame of his addiction as he blew out a cloud of smoke he winked at her. He was a bit of a showboat in both personas. Jesse had done a few minor things here and there, but nothing as important as these undertakings. His vigalante resume was decidedly lacking. He hadn't stepped up his game before he was inspired by the bravery of a simple human girl. Up until new he had beat up a few muggers and crashed a car theif over a bridge and toremented him under the water of his own guilt. He gave him one hell of a scare, but as far as something meaningful Jesse hadn't even scratched the surface of what he was meant to become. A hero.
Last Edit: Jun 22, 2018 18:50:36 GMT by Splashdown
Her feet made dull thuds with the walkway as she followed after him, she’d kill for her more practical attire she donned when she drove the blade of cruel justice through the hearts of her enemies but she was adaptable, made due with what she had. “Well, you’re not wrong”, the was a soft chuckle at the end of her words trying to mask the worry in a confident strength that was slowly tearing to shit inside the depths of her mind. Stepping through the double doors she felt herself almost annoyed at the bold and to her, distasteful collision of colors. The musty smell to the air was a unique comfort to her senses, more so than the thick smell of iron pigmented crimson that stained her skin.
Her brow lifted slightly at the faint touch of crimson to Jesse’s cheeks, reading the letters donning the pink shirt she couldn’t help but blush herself. It was almost ironic, comically inaccurate though. It wasn’t easy using her arm yet, she’d be halfway into a whole new outfit but in light of recent events she still struggled to fold the old shirt over her head. At his question she felt the bloody fabric of her old shirt in her palms, saw Marty’s picture and nearly crumbled on the spot. She swallowed the lump building in her throat before answering, “No, he’s completely human”, ‘and I’m a monster’. The last few words echoed in her mind until she almost gagged at her own blood, it suddenly looked darker and menacing and something other than human.
Clara lifted her gaze, she hardly realized how long she’d taken just to undress. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of his gaze on her exposed flesh, Clara didn’t do much but avert the awkward touch to her eyes and slipped inside the soft, old fabric of the pink shirt he’d given her. Clara caressed the pink fabric with a slight frown, she’d need a whole new fucking outfit if she planned on attacking GADEM head on. Hell, something that didn’t leave her a neon target in an ocean of bland, mundane souls all scrapping for their own selfish goals.
She felt a harsh intensity wash over her as she repeated each word that drifted through his lips in her own mind, her thoughts echoed everything he said in hopes of remembering each syllable to further her vengeful goal. Felix Russel, Alex Turner and Adam Lithe. She repeated the names over and over again, she’d slit their throats and rip them apart, slowly, painfully and without an ounce of mercy.
“Adam Lithe, I know that name. He has a kid, I’m pretty sure he has a young boy. Leverage, that’s what he has”, the words weren’t meant for Jesse directly, they were the dark thoughts mulling around her head in memory of an old attempt to hack GADEM’s darkest secrets. The most she got were half a dozen personnel files before she was shut out and hunted for about a week, she ended up adding five new corpses to her list of victories, or slaughters to be fairly accurate.
“They’re hurt, that means they’re vulnerable”, she was already detailing plans in her mind, most of them painstakingly cruel and horrible. She shifted on her feet before focusing her sole attention on the spirited hero like figure that drug her from the edge of a hellish future, she nodded eagerly almost feeling the urge to reach out and hug the guy for being kind in regards to Marty’s terrible predicament. She wanted him back, she’d shove her own neck through an executioner’s blade if she could spare him from the pain and horrible realization of her true nature.
“I can’t rest, every second I waste is a second he’s hurting”, she was about to look for the first door out in a futile and quite honestly foolish attempt at a rescue when the adrenaline left her system in a final, numbing wave. She almost fell into an old shelf, instead she reached out and steadied herself with a glare at her own two feet, Clara hated the feeling of weakness and guilt. It was eating her alive and she feared what would remain if she made it through to the other side.
Clara drowned in a long, tired sigh for a moment before nodding. She felt the effects of fatigue and pain wash over her in waves of excruciating discomfort, her teeth tugged at her lower lip in deep thought. “I know a guy, he owes me a few dozen favors. I need to get to him, first thing in the morning. He has everything I need”, she wasn’t even exaggerating. He had enough tactical gear to shield her from bullets in addition to a weapons collection to drool over. She’d take everything she could carry, save Marty or die trying.
“You help me get him back, I’ll help you burn GADEM to the fucking ground if that’s what it takes. Do me this one favor and I’ll owe you dozen”, Marty meant the world to her and if she had to sell her soul she’d to that too. Her hazel eyes focused on Jesse for a long second before she looked to the rickety door she assumed led to the break room. Clara walked, stumbled some but eventually made it through the old, worn door.
She fell into the couch with an ungraceful stumble, curled up holding the old shirt she donned and felt the sight of the crimson drive her mind. Clara couldn’t help the tears flowing over her cheeks, silent sobs shook her shoulders for the first time in years. She wanted him back, she wanted to hear his dorky jokes and greet a peaceful slumber in the warmth of his arms. With him everything made sense, her humanity anchored to the love she felt for him and if she lost him because of a war against the government she’d burn the whole fucking place to the ground, regardless if she survived the assault or not. GADEM would pay ten fold for every scratch, every bruise and every ounce of pain they caused him.
Clara could hardly sleep, she hardly even greeted the soft lull of a slumber when she sat upright clutching her heart in a loud scream. Nightmares, horrible sights of Marty dying over and over again. Nothing made sense, for a second she was lost in an abyss of confusion and the only thing she could hear was her heart beating against her chest. The events bled into her mind with a ferocious intensity, she ended up shoving her legs over the side of the couch and stepped outside breathing like a woman who ran the fucking marathon. Her breathing was rapid and shallow, painful even. Everything still hurt, but not quite as much as her mind’s own torture.
“Fuck!”, the angry word drifted past her lips in a dark echo as she slammed her fist into an old cardboard cutout, it was faded and hardly looked like anything. She just needed a way to dull the aches of fury, a way to anchor her mind to some measure of sanity. “It’s all my fucking fault”, she almost laughed at herself, she hardly even talked to anyone except Marty and people who shared her views regarding mutant protection and there she was conversing with herself like a madman.
Jesse found his private moments alone when Ms. Wins....Clara, went to bed. Jesse realized how empty and hollow his existance really was. He was fighting for justice. he was fighting for what was right, but he had no personal stake in this war. He supposed that made him more heroic. Fighting because he could and not because he had something to gain, but it didn't stop the painful reminder of his shallow world. He thought about Nathaniel. Turthfully. He didn't know the kid. He had met him once, a few months back. He was stopping some people in a diner who were holding up the register.
Nathaniel was just a kid, a brave kid who actually jumped in and helped fight. Jesse was careless. Stupid really. He allowed one of them to get the drop on him. It was Nathaniel who saved his life that day. He was the hero, not me... Jesse thought. The brave little kid errupted with the fiery grace of abilities not quite human. Purple rings of pyschic energy blasted from his finger tips in pulsing, nauseating waves. It sent the back guy crashing through the diner's front window. Nathaiel was only about seventeen or so. As far as Jesse could tell his parents didn't know about his gifts. No one knew.
That was evident by the shock and horror that crossed his face. Panic set in as he thought himself a monster. That bad guy died. A piece of broken glass sliced thruogh the femeral artery, and he bled out in minutes. Not that the world wasn't better off with trash litering the streets. Jesse could tell the kid was terrified. He stood up, humans all around them staring at the two mutants who were wielding abilities far beyond their own comprehension. "Thanks kid." Jesse had said leaning up. The kid was shaking with fear. "I...i killed him." He said looking at the body on the sidewalk.
"You saved a life. Don't ever be ashamed of your gifts kid. You could be a hero. You are a hero! Don't ever forget that." Jesse's touching speech was cut off by the screams of humans in the diner yelling at them to just get the hell out of there. Jesse hopped out the broken window turning back to the kid. "Go home kid. Go home and kiss your mama, and tell her that you love her... You're too young for all this shit, but you have potential." Jesse was about to dash off when the kid spoke up. "Nathaniel! My name is Nathaniel."
Jesse reached in his pocket and pulled out a coin. It was a locker token for a water park called Splashdown. He flicked it through the air into the broken window. Nathaniel caught it at looked at it. "Splashdown?" Jesse was smiling after all, under his mask. "Just call me Splashdown kid." He said with a smirk. He hoped secretely that the kid would one day realize where that coin came from and check out the park. He could use a good young sidekick. Then again. That was more of his stupid hero fantasy playing out in his head. He would go to keep an eye on the kid. Watching him from the shadows to see if he really had what it took to be a hero. To be his sidekick. It wasn't much trouble really. Jesse checked in periodically to see what he was up too.
One random night after his patrol around the city. Jesse stopped in at the kid's house. It was a broken home. Alcoholic mother and absentee father. Nathaniel was usually up in his room, awake at all hours of the morning. He wasn't sure what he was hoping to find. but it did his heart good to see the kid staying out of trouble. He wished he could help him more than just making sure he wasn't dead, killed by the harash reality of being born into the wrong family, but once in awhile he would stop by just to see him through the window and honestly feel good about the work he was doing.
It was as if Nathaniel was a reminder that the world needed heros. Every once in awhile he needed to see that. Not to mention the fact that there were some serious reports of GADEM assholes in the area. Something nagged at him and kept brining him back to check on the young ward. One night while running across the rooftops of the city and getting ready to call it a night Jesse stopped when he ran past Nathaniels apartment on the way home.
He saw flashes in the window. Gunshot flashes. He froze... Jesse wanted to burst in there and find out what was happening, but he saw Nathaniel being loaded into a truck. The Robin to his Batman. captured by GADEM assholes. Jesse was only a few years older then the kid honestly. Maybe he was searching for a friend. A reason to keep going, or just a connection with another person, but it was personal now. Jesse sat on the counter of the splashdown gift shop.
One knee propped up, the other dangling off the counter. The last fading embers of a dying cigarette scorching on his lips. He took a puff and stared out over the empty pools and absentmindedly swished around a ball of floating water by dancing his fingers lightly over the cool crisp air. Jesse flicked his cigarette away and with a sudden twist of his wrist a spurt of water arched through the air after it. It extinguished the sailing cigarette mid flight.
He turned and swung his legs over the counter. Dropping to his feet he sighed. Now he had a chance to help someone else. Someone who really needed his help. No doubt GADEM was licking their wounds, but it didn't mean they could be reckless. He looked at the clock on the wall. It was almost 6 am. He couldn't sleep. Hadn't even thought about sleep. His mind moved through a plethera of this or that and things that could go any which way. There were too many variables to consider them all, but they had a plan. They had the loose idea of a plan and that was something.
See this friend of Ms. Winslows and get some big fucking guns. Big fucking guns couldn't hurt. He was used to fighting with the splash of a wave rather than the touch of a hollow point, but he supposed they were both effective. Jesse slipped his mask back on. The neon coming to life as if placing it in place somehow activated it's lights. He walked quietly to the back room where Clara was resting. Pushing the door open lightly he saw her standing there. "I know you're hurt, but i think we should strike now... I'll do most of the heavy lifting. But I may have a lead on where their safehouse is." A mutant friend of his named Roy Walker. He had a beautiful abiliti to digitalize himself and travel thorugh the internet like the speed of light. He could find anything on the web. Even things that were never, ever ment to be seen. Like an address for a government safehouse. "Today is the day we get back your friend."
Last Edit: Jun 23, 2018 14:09:29 GMT by Splashdown
