Like Ribbons Caught in the Wind

Book I: Prologue

The bottoms of her bare feet slid against the slick stone of the dungeon floor. She could hear the faint echo of her feet slapping in the distance. Jinx clutched her arms and burrowed her hands into her armpits as she slid across the room. She shivered and her jaw began to chatter. Her hot breath lingered in the air, before mixing with the shadows.

The cylindrical cell was in the shape of a large dome, many arm lengths long in any direction. The room resembled a large cave, with dark chocolate walls and gray stones beneath her feet. The only source of light was a rickety fixture dangling on a long, electric cord. The dim light bulb gave off a weak, shimmering glow that barely illuminated the room. A half-crescent metal dish surrounded the light bulb, funneling the light downward, subsequently blocking out the ceiling. Her eyes felt sore as they continually tried to adjust to the dark prison gloom. As she cast her gaze to the sky, her eyes met only darkness.

In the distance, she could hear the faint sound of dripping water. Was it her imagination? She listened closer. Jinx took a few steps forward, trying to pinpoint the direction of the noise. Her search seemed futile, as the sound came from everywhere—and nowhere—all at once. It was loud and soft, relentless and faint. She felt disoriented and dizzy, with a growing headache. The smell was sharp and made her stomach clench, and the tight atmosphere made it hard to breathe. The walls seemed to overpower her senses.

Jinx inspected the various surfaces of her confinement. She found it frustrating that the room had no doors, or windows. There were no bars to bend, or slots to slide through food. The rocky walls had a seamless connection, as if they were constructed from a single piece of material. It was as if someone had slammed a giant bowl of stone over the girl, trapping her like a household spider. The more Jinx considered her imprisonment, the more she felt uneasy.

She knew nothing of the events or the details that led up to her capture. As hard as she tried, she felt absentminded and aimless, as if her thoughts had not yet collected. It had only been an hour, maybe less, since she awoke in a slight daze. She found herself sprawled out on the floor having no recollection of her potential crimes, unaware of how she got into the seemingly impenetrable prison, or why she was trapped. The drab and dreary gray uniform of a high-profile criminal clung tightly around the girl's small frame. Her pink hair, caked with dirt, lay limp around her shoulders. She hated that slimey feel of the tips of her hair, brushing against her shoulders. If not for her usual twin ponytails that held her hair up, she would have cut her hair long ago.

Her mind tried to make sense of the visual cues in front of her—the endless rock, windowless walls, shadowed ceiling, discolored floor—but they did not add up. If there was no entrance, how did she get into the cell in the first place? From where had she entered? How had they transported her sleeping body to this hellhole? Who had removed her clothes and dressed her in prison wear? Jinx shivered at the thought of being so vulnerable. While she slept, she had been weak enough to be overpowered and placed in the literal definition of hell. Who did it? She wondered, thinking through what little clues she had. Her captor must have had the tactile skill required to outmaneuver a top HIVE operative, and trap her in a dark-filled world.

Jinx chewed on her bottom lip and felt the sharp pain radiate out from the surface of her skin as she rotated her body to spun in circles. Her eyes traced the insurmountable walls with care. Simple logic stated: if there is a way in, there must be a way out. Escape was the only option. She had to find it. Failure was not acceptable. She would not let her pride be marred by simple trickery, or novice police-work.

However, the walls seemed real enough. The unmistakable rock was certainly there. Jinx raised her left foot off the chilled stone, rubbing her toes between both her hands. When enough warmth filled her numbed digits, she let her foot fall back to the ground, and began to rub the other. The villainous girl was tied to the uncomfortable ground; cold reinforced the slight twinge of loneliness that the empty room provided.

She could hear the faint sound of dripping water clicking in the background.

"But Jinx, this is serious…If we go through with this…there's no turnin' back…"

Jinx tried to locate North or South, but found that the rounded walls made it impossible to denote unique features or identifiable landmarks. Everything looked the same, and after spinning casually in a circle, she found herself unable to determine which part of the curved wall she had originally faced. Her only landmark cues were the very items that resided in her cell, as few and far between as they were.

In the center of the room lay a pile of thin blankets and a hard pillow. Jinx walked over to her apparent bed and gripped the bedding. It was enough for sleep, but hardly capable of keeping out the cold. The paper-thin sheets of material seemed brittle; she wondered if they would rip if she thrashed about in her sleep too roughly. Apparently, a proper mattress with cold-resistant bedding was more than what she deserved. The very stone below her chilled toes would press up against her vulnerable back as she tried to slumber.

"Those idiot Titans should be more considerate!" She spat in irritation. A violent shiver escaped her body. "I'm freezing in here! It's like fifty degrees! I only get a shitty blanket and a horrible fashion statement to keep me warm...?" Jinx groaned with frustration.

The girl let her eyes shut, pleading for memories to freely enter her thoughts. Her past might have clues to her escape, and if she could just recall the agonizing events of the day that evaded her, she might be able to procure progress.

Was I alone, or with Gizmo and Mammoth? The acrobat couldn't remember.

Was I wrongly accused, or guilty? It was a question she didn't need to answer. She was the best; a brilliant criminal. She obviously did it. Whatever it was, she must have been responsible and it must have been amazing.

But what did I do? Who are my accusers? Who did I harm? Jinx inhaled, and choked on the acrid smell of moldy air. With a bitter sigh, she listened to the slow drip of water echoing in the distance.

The faint wisps of a night walk lined her memory. Maybe she was climbing up a building, or perhaps it was a junkyard. No, she was running. Panting. Diving under branches, hopping over rocks. Stumbling into the dark. The stark, unforgettable color of red.

The barren landscape was her fault.

Jinx began to test the width of her cell. She started from one part of the wall and walked to the other side. Taking relatively large steps, she determined the diameter was about thirteen strides long. She tested the height of her cell in a similar fashion. The pink haired teen outstretched her hand and reached to the fading sky. She flicked her wrist as she hopped as high as she possibly could. Only air met her fingertips. Her face turned a slight shade of red when her toes landed on the ground, embarrassed at performing such an ungraceful and belittling action. However, it was something she had to know. Her arms were much too short to grab the dangling light overhead. She wasn't even close.

Jinx lightly gripped one of the walls to see if she could gain any footing if she tried to climb. The slanted walls made this task neigh impossible. Even if she found a few places to grip, the walls tilted inward. This would force her to fight against gravity as she climbed higher. It was within the realm of possibility, but scaling a wall upside-down was never an easy task. With no hand grips and equally no motivation, it would be a wasted effort.

How do I get out of here? She thought quietly to herself. Those shit Titans did a good job, eh? If standard methods don't work, I'll just need a new angle…

She was restless. Her body yearned to be free. The feeling of confinement kept her soul locked in misery, like a caged bird who could only stare out into the endless night.

She bit her bottom lip and began to count the individual stones in the floor. Her voice echoed in the silent air, "…sixty-five, sixty-six, sixty-seven…" She abruptly stopped when she realized what she was doing.

"Dammit…! What am I doing? I have to focus. There must be a way out..."

Jinx's well-manicured fingers pressed up against the hard stone surface. She straightened her bent elbows, and used her toned muscles to propel her body from a handstand into a graceful aerial flip. As she rotated and spun in the air, the rough pillows of wind clung to her prison clothes. Jinx made a perfect landing with her knees straight and hands outstretched. She let out a held breath and sucked in more air, before she leaned into a series of cartwheels. Acrobatics helped keep Jinx's mind at ease. She hated sitting or pacing idly. Slothful laziness only made her thoughts stagnate, and might undo her cute, feminine figure. The more she danced in the dark room, the more she came to understand her new surroundings.

The sway of her hips rocked closer and farther from the walls. The pads of her feet learned the contours of the ground. As the girl danced, the tips of her disgusting hair brushed awkwardly against her shoulders. Her fingertips sliced through the murky air and her shoulders relaxed.

She spent maybe an hour or more enjoying her exercise. Glistening sweat lined her scantily clad body. She was exhausted, but she felt better for it. She had grown used to training under tight spaces, learning to scale small alleyways and navigating sewers. It wasn't the most glamorous work, but it was a necessary hurdle that a good criminal needed to face. She hated dirt and grime, but she hated failing even more. The villain must stoop to even the most extremes of circumstances in the game of survival.

Jinx came to rest with her eyes closed. One of the limitations of her cell was a lack of light. The darkness kept things murky and unknown. Without an accurate mental image of her bondage, it would be nearly impossible to plan an escape. Fortunately, she had a natural gift for understanding movement and the physical constructs of space. Although she could not see the walls with her eyes, her body could adapt to these limitations through trial and error. Like an acrobat who is so accustomed to a balance beam that she can flip in the air and land on it with a blindfold, Jinx felt like she had a good sense of the room's shape and composition. She could feel the room, without a reliance on vision.

After a long few hours of training, she felt as if she had returned to her natural, calculating state of mind, with a new valuable trait. The shadows would no longer be her detriment. They would be her strength.

She briskly wiped sweat off her brow, and returned to the main matter at hand.

Escape.

The pink haired girl shook her head at the thought of digging her way out. It was a natural first thought, but her mind screamed bad idea.

She could almost imagine being locked away in a small alcove buried deep inside a large mountain. In actuality, no such mountain existed in close proximity of Jump City. Jinx knew her fantasy couldn't possibly be true. More likely, she was far below Jump City's East Penitentiary, locked away in a new kind of dungeon designed specifically to combat her powers. She was potentially miles underground, forgotten in a cell designed just for her. She was alone, and far away from the other guards or prisoners. The odds that she could communicate with a fellow inmate, or subdue a guard, were highly unlikely. The social aspect of prisondom seemed to be sourly lacking this time around. Of course, she had come to expect nothing less of her adversaries. They always found new and exciting ways to keep her locked up tight. Then again, they had a resounding zero percent success record. She was a top HIVE operative after all, and she had a reputation to maintain. All it took was a little bit of knowledge and she could escape literally anything. It probably didn't hurt that she had a lean, athletic body with supernatural powers.

The girl sat down, letting her back rest against the rough prison wall. Jinx hugged her knees into her chest. She looked down at the stone floor and began to calculate the usefulness of her powers. Although she had the ability to destroy and dissolve ordinary rock, her powers were not designed to bulldoze her way through thick and vast slabs of material. Instead, her powers were best apt toward weakening the base of already flimsy designs. Her powers—a serious case of bad luck—had the ability to cause malfunctions or misfires. The pink energy could heat up objects, manipulate hard surfaces or even eat through solid steel. Unfortunately, her powers had a few limitations. The energy took a lot of endurance to maintain, and higher concentrations of her power were difficult to control. Cram a lot of bad luck in close proximity, and it would surely backfire. In other words, it wasn't realistic to brute force her way through stone like a jackhammer.

Robin definitely knew these limitations. If the Titans were behind this lock-up, Jinx knew they would utilize her weaknesses to design the prison cell. She could be sure the 'easy-way-out' would be hard to find. Jinx would have to be more creative. In this case, the most obvious choice would be to dig her way out, so her opponents almost assuredly expected her to attempt it. Unfortunately, if they expected it, they definitely had a countermeasure and a plan against it. So, it made sense to assume digging would already have been considered a potential escape-mechanism, and thusly countered.

Jinx frowned. If she really was a fair distance underground, it's possible she was low enough that the rock was many miles deep in any horizontal direction. Throw in diagonals, and there were too many possibilities to calculate. There were so many wrong turns, or potential dead-ends. A thousand miles in the wrong direction would be a fruitless endeavor, and it is equally possible she could cause a cave-in, or dig into a deadly stream and flood herself. She would waste a lot of physical energy even to make a few yards of progress, and there was no guarantee such efforts would be productive. Such energy would be better suited for an alternative escape.

Jinx decided to look for a crack or a weak point, and strategize from there.

She looked.

She failed.

There were no cracks. There were no seams. There were no loose bricks, holes or ledges. It was all rock; it was all solid.

Jinx glared at the seemingly impossible nature of her imprisonment. "Okay Jinx, think this through. Start at square one. How the hell did they get me in here? No doors. No gaps in the walls." She looked down at her nail polish and flicked her fingers. They seemed sluggish and numb.

"I still feel dizzy...did they...drug me?" The thought seemed a bit perverse. She had been unconscious, hauled to an unknown place against her will. She had no way of knowing what they might have done to her. Had they injected her with something? What drugs might they have used? Would the effects go away in minutes, hours, or days? Who were 'they'? Was this an official police cell, or a hostage situation?

She clenched her eyes shut and tried as hard as she could to focus on the night before. She could barely see the flash of a cloaked hero. Raven. The thought crossed her mind before her eyes lit up. "This has that hideous girl's name all over it. I've seen her phase through walls and carry her friends around. She probably teleported into this place, threw me on the ground, and disappeared like a bitch." The acrobat validated the idea in her mind, before she came up with an answer.

"If Raven's the only way in, then Raven's the only way out. This is no cell. This is a tomb. If this is a tomb...why would they come back?" She thought about it more. The Titans—though cruel and sadistic in their own right—weren't the type of people to self-sentence criminals to death. If they had any intention of killing her, they would have done so many years prior. They would have finished her when they had a chance. Why wait, struggle, and fight for so long, only to end it like this? Raven will definitely come back.

Right?

"Ahh, this is so frustrating!" Jinx shouted with clenched fists. Her voice seemed to hang in the air, before dissipating into a faint echo. The girl heaved a deep sigh. She sat roughly on her blanket and pillow, with her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. She hugged her legs close, letting her eyes wander. She focused on the stone floor.

The stone floor was out of place. Why was it gray? If they had carved her cell out the surrounding rock, the floor should mimic the color of the walls. It should be the same material. Why was it a different kind of stone…a pale and smooth gray instead of a dark, splotchy brown? Why was the flooring paved and not as rocky as the walls? Why artificially created?

"They went through a lot of trouble making this stupid place," She mused. "...Too much trouble for a burial ground. Right?"

She remembered flashes of blind anger and rage. She could perhaps hear the faint screams of innocent voices. Had she caused them? Had she intended to cause them? They were questions without an answer.

Jinx's stomach growled. She was awfully hungry. How might she receive her meals? Would Raven pop in, drop off a dish, and teleport out? If Raven came, would she come defenseless? Jinx considered attacking Raven at first sight, but shrugged the idea off. If Raven really was the only way in and out of her predicament, she couldn't kill that creepy girl. Raven was like a key. You can't break a key in a lock, and expect the door to open later.

Would she come unannounced, or would Raven respectfully knock before entering? If Raven knocked before entering, she would be giving away a very important piece of evidence. Now, ignoring the obvious issue of there being no door—so the likelihood of 'knocking' being applicable was almost nothing—a knock would symbolize the wall's thinnest point. She could then focus all of her power in the direction of the sound, and maybe find a way to penetrate that location. Yes, if Raven knocked, Jinx would have to make a mental note of the direction, and utilize that information when the girl was alone once more.

Jinx's eyes fixated on her bed. "Will I be fed? Will they make me starve?" She wondered aloud.

It seemed like she had waited forever. No signs of contact; her isolation was complete. Jinx hated the idea of waiting as a captive long enough for her first meal. The more she waited and accepted her surroundings, the more the concept of helplessness would set in. Jinx wasn't new to the prison circuit. She had been in many prisons in her lifetime. It was a fundamental rule: the longer you're locked up, the harder it becomes to find a way out. People get accustomed to their surroundings. The obvious becomes normal, and the escape becomes invisible.

She knew the process all too well. At first, a prisoner tests her bindings and struggles against her shackles to break free. But in time, she wastes an unduly amount of effort trying to fight the unbreakable. She loses interest. She begins to accept the shackle as an obvious limitation. She stops struggling under the restraint. It was classical conditioning at its finest. Even if the bindings are later loosened, she might never find out, having already written 'try to break the shackle' off as an impossible option. It was much like training a cow to be confined by a flimsy knee-high wall at birth. The young calf cannot traverse the wall when it is younger and begins to establish the foundation as a mandatory limitation. But, when the calf grows older, the cow gains the ability to easily hop over the restraint. However, well-trained cattle instead accept this flimsy piece of wood as an impenetrable wall, and are thusly trapped by a false sense of perception.

Another common problem was overanalyzing the useless. A prisoner might eye the same crack in the wall a million times, thinking up a new and exciting convoluted plan to escape using that narrow little crack for freedom. Consequently, the prisoner might never have realized the bars were loose. It was the obvious that people overlooked. The obvious was a necessary element to any escape plan. When Jinx escaped normal prison cells, she often abused the simple, and took advantage of the 'impossible.'

There was something obvious she was overlooking. Something so blatantly stupid she wouldn't ordinarily consider it. She knew there had to be a way out. It was just a matter of sifting through all of the clues, until she found the opportunity. "Think Jinx, think…Think, think, think! …" she muttered, bringing her fingers to her mouth. She rubbed her face as she thought. "Everything in this cell has a purpose," she added.

A sadistic smile grew on her face. "Stupid Titans. They don't know it, but they gave me these tools to help me escape." It was a game now. She had made it a game. She loved playing games. "Everything in this cell has a purpose," she repeated. "They paved the floor for a reason. The terrible lighting, for a reason. The flimsy bedding, for a reason." She paused, before closing her lips.

She began to contemplate in her head.

How do they work together? She traced the mortar between two stones in the floor with the tip of her index finger. Her finger danced against the rocky surface, until she rubbed it raw. That stupid bucket…the width of the cell…paved floor…there's got to be meaning behind it all. How do I get out of here? The room grew steadily colder. Jinx wrapped the terrible blanket around her body and snuggled into her pillow. The girl vainly tried to think of a way out as she fought against the chill.

She could use a glass of water.

Her eyes narrowed when she saw a small bucket pressed up against one section of the wall. Her fists shook and her tight knuckles turned white.

Her voice had cracked, radiating anger. Her teeth clenched as she spoke, "You're…kidding me. Screw that. There will be hell to pay if I find out who has this sense of humor."

Apparently, she wasn't missing a toilet.

It felt like three hours had passed. Jinx was starving now. The girl was beginning to wonder how she would ever receive her meals.

Could they forgot I'm here? I'm not in a normal cell. They can't even see me. Jinx frowned. Stupid place looks like a tomb. Why would a pharaoh construct shit like this? It's so ugly! Jeez, if you're gunna kill me...at least buy me a pretty casket…! Pink…jewels, lots of flowers…maybe line it with gold...

She hated thinking on an empty stomach. Whenever she got hungry, she would order Gizmo to drop whatever he was doing and get her food. He never got a say in the matter. After all, he was there to serve.

Where's Gizmo? She wondered. Is he looking for me? Will he find me? I doubt it...he can't do anything right…he really needs my help for a mission like this. The lonely girl frowned. She couldn't shake the feeling that this was all her fault in some stupid way. Gizmo definitely needed her. Mammoth too. They both relied on her so much…they must be missing her, looking for her, and yet…why did she feel so disgruntled when they came to mind? Why was she upset?

Jinx continued to lie in her makeshift bed. Her head rested on her extremely uncomfortable pillow as she stared up at the dark. The imaginary ceiling looked a lot like a cloudy night sky. The hanging light was like a moon, much too dim to hurt her eyes as she stared deeper into it. There were no stars, but if she squinted, she could almost see the fuzzy outlines of clouds. She played with the idea of a pretend sky, enjoying the darkness-blob-clouds as they flickered by.

"The moon is never that big…" she muttered. Her echoed voice signified the harsh reality of the situation. There was no sky above. Only rock, and a lack of light to see it. The girl closed her eyes and contemplated sleeping.

I can't think while hungry. I'm not getting anywhere. I need to eliminate my distractions before I make big decisions. I can't risk ruling out a good solution due to laziness... she paused, thinking through the implications.

Her mouth felt so dry; her heart stopped a beat as her eyes widened. The thought of being stuck in this place hit her, sudden and unforgiving. She almost felt a bit scared…almost beginning to doubt she would find a way…

I could wait until Raven comes. Her arrival would open up new possibilities. Hell, the lousy bitch might give me a clue. It's…a possibility…I guess…

The girl's messy hair stuck to the back of her neck. Dirt flaked onto the pillow. The feeling of grime against her skin digging into cloth made her feel disgusting, yet she snuggled deeper into her stiff pillow. The chill of the rocky floor felt uncomfortably sharp against her numb body. Although she had only a hazy image of the previous night, she knew there must have been a fight. It must have been a humiliating battle for her hair to be littered with dirt. Did Raven slam her into the ground and treat her like a broom? Did she drag her across the floor and flaunt her like a trophy? Did the bitch do something more sinister, something she could not remember? The freak must have. Why else would she feel so filthy?

"If only I could remember...Even I don't deserve something like this..." She muttered to no one in particular as her eyes slid shut. Her breathing began to slow. Her chest rose and fell in a rhythmic beat as the little girl drifted off to sleep. Her fading thoughts were resolute. Whatever had happened, Raven was at fault. The gothic girl was the cause for all of Jinx's problems, and the HIVE FIVE would not stand for it.

Jinx demanded revenge.

—

/If you have the time, please leave me a review. I appreciate your thoughts!