Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I owned Despicable Me or any of its characters, do you think I'd be here? (cries)
Pairing/s: None until I say otherwise.
Summary: Gru had a plan, to steal the moon. He did so, but lost the moon, and gained three daughters. Rewind, would things have turned out the same if he'd gotten four girls instead? Wait a minute, what was that about a teenager? Would things still turn out happily ever after? How would Gru deal with a streetwise, teenage girl? (Basically, Despicable Me, revamped with more characters and plot explanations)
A/N: Don't worry, I'll try to not have my OC take over this fanfic. I just had a plot bunny attack that simply would not go AWAY! So here I am writing yet ANOTHER fanfic that I'll have on my to-do list for the rest of eternity until I finish it. So here it is. By the by, Despicable Me was an awesome movie, if given the choice, I wouldn't change any of it, except for maybe adding extra Gru – The Girls interaction/bonding scenes… But that's just the mushy fangirl in me talking… -_-;
WARNINGS: This fic is RATED T! There will be implications of adult situations/ideas in prologue and very, very future chapters(far away), I will tell you now, I do not do EXPLICIT sexual anything when writing! I'll imply, or say it happened, that's it! I do explicit violence and crass language and/or sexual humor, that's as far as I go.
NOTE: Okay, I'm weird, I just decided to edit this now so I don't have to do it later… Yeah, weird…
ANOTHER NOTE(update): Grammatical errors(the ones I could find) have been fixed. I checked for spelling errors and such, please notify me if anyone finds more.
Prologue
Somewhere in Nebraska…
Rain pelted the earth, thoroughly soaking the world below without relent.
A little girl, her was name of no importance to anyone, not anymore at least. She walked along a long, winding highway in the middle of nowhere.
She had a rather tiny, scrawny, and short stature for a nine year old, the girl's short black hair and singly visible, bright blue eye contrasting heavily against her too-pale complexion. A huge black hoodie, nearly eighteen sizes too big for her, perched precariously on her bony shoulders, hanging heavy on her as it soaked up the rain like a sponge. It was plain black in color, and was split down the front with a tarnished, metal zipper. In its back were three, messy holes lined with browning blood, not her own though.
She had a bag slung over her shoulder, a messenger's bag that seemed far too heavy for such a tiny child to carry, its contents, unknown.
The right side of her face lay half covered beneath bandages, no longer a pristine white, but a disgusting shade of brown. It was the color of dried blood, her blood.
The bandages were soon soaked through as the hoodie became completely saturated to maximum capacity. Groaning in annoyance, the small girl slipped the offending cloth off her face and dropped it by the roadside.
Her most prominent feature? On the right side of her face lay fresh, scabbed over gashes, soon to be scars, and a closed eyelid with several tiny stitches imbedded to prevent the eyelid from splitting. Two diagonal cuts leading downward, now scabbed over, ran from just over the upper-left part of the bridge of her nose, then it went over her forehead and disappeared beneath her hairline. Two angry, slightly jagged, cuts less than half an inch apart and parallel to each other, ran from the height of her mid-forehead; crossing with the other, much shorter-looking cut; running down over her eyebrow and over her closed eyelid, then down her cheek. Now, those cuts still had stitches on them, having barely even begun to scab over.
Despite the pain in her chest, the bloody, not-even-dime-sized hole in her chest, was only hours old. Strips of a bloody t-shirt had been used as bandages, just like big brother had showed her once...
It was as if the road would never end, that the rain wouldn't stop 'til it drowned the world like in the Noah's Ark story her brother had told her…
Soon her muscles ached with exhaustion not the least bit unfamiliar to her, she continued to walk, even as her bag and hoodie weighed her down… She walked until the protest of her muscles, the emptiness of her stomach, and the pain of her body just faded into an all-encompassing numbness…
It had finally just occurred hit her, just a few hours ago, she'd lost… Everything…
Not that she'd had much to start with…
She had always known that her Mother had always seen her as disappointment, a failure in every way possible, but… The little girl had never thought her Mother would've gone this far…
What's worse was that, now? She didn't even have her big brother to help and protect her, hell, the eighteen year old had never even been sane. But at least he had always watched out for her… But now the little girl realized that she was truly and utterly, alone.
Now here she was, injured, alone, and with nowhere to go...
What was she to do now?
Honestly? She had no idea. So she kept walking…
And walking…
And walking…
The scenery, blurred by the heavy rain as it was, was rather barren. Not a lot of trees, barely any really, and sparse bushes scattered across the earth, with tall grasses almost as far as the eye could see.
It had been long since when the sky had darkened further, indicating the night's arrival. It had slowed her down, forcing her to walk more slowly, as she had already had to climb out of the roadside ditch several times…
She was so tired, but… She knew she couldn't stop, not yet at least… The nine-year old knew that she had never been more glad when she spotted that old road sign, which indicated a nearby city about half a mile ahead…
The nine-year old girl continued in stubborn defiance as her muscles began to come out of their semi-numb state, and began to burn painfully once more. None the less, she trudged onward.
She finally came to a bridge, it was old, and ran over a wide river that looked deeper than any pool could ever be. The nine-year old ignored it roar of thunder as it cracked overhead as she crossed the empty bridge, which was thankfully devoid of cars, and entered the city…
Not that it was much though, truth be told the place was rather rundown. Peeling paint, broken signs, and more graffiti on the walls than the total flea population littered the surrounding buildings around her almost as far as the eye could see.
The nine-year old shivered violently, her cold, rain-soaked clothes had done her no good other than shield her for a mere half hour or so before becoming nothing but heavy weights on her back.
Cold, hungry and exhausted, the girl forced her aching legs to carry her forward in search of shelter…
Plodding her way onto a small street, she plodded forward almost mechanically, her eyes searching her surroundings tiredly for anything, anyplace that could offer her safety…
Then she spotted it, a small, trashy-looking canopy-type structure with a back wall, two sidewalls and an open front, probably built from pieces taken from a junkyard. But it was shelter, and that was all that mattered to the small girl as she dashed beneath its small, metal roof for safety.
"Oi, what's a brat doin' on our turf Butch?" A rough voice came from out of seemingly nowhere. The child's head jerked violently towards the voice's source…
Only to be greeted by the sight of at least four, mean looking teenagers, or adults, or something in between.
"Don' know Chad," Said the taller, blonde one, "but 'm bored. Wanna have s'me fun guys?"
"Yeah man, it's been a long t'me since we had a good playthin'." The third once sniggered, leering with hungry, disgusting eyes at the small girl.
A sick feeling settled in the child's stomach, young as she was, exposure to her Mother's lifestyle, her three bullies for brothers, and her oldest brother's view on the world, she had some idea of what the teens were talking about, and she did not want to stick around to gain life experience in the matter!
The nine-year old did the one thing that came to mind, while the older boys were leering and bantering for God knows why, she had gotten a head start. Clutching her bag and jacket tight to her body so it wouldn't drag in the space behind her.
Despite her obvious exhaustion , her body was high on fear and adrenaline now, and her mind had focused on nothing but hastening her escape from her pursuers. As she ran through small alleyways and ran down a street full of closed stores, she looked for one, just one store she could hide in… Even it was a pot store or something…
'There!' She'd seen it, a small convenience store at the end of the street on the corner. With desperate speed, she sprinted and dashed her way straight into the store...
Upon entering she noticed that there were no customers… Then she saw the cashier lady, a young woman with brown hair and green eyes, somewhere in her early twenties. Nervously, the small girl took a deep breath and tried to recall everything about the English language her big brother had taught her, which was actually quite limited compared to a born-American's vocabulary… Her native language was Czech after all…
"Dáma?" She said hurriedly, the little girl's eldest brother had always stressed the importance of enunciation, making her say English words repeatedly for hours on end 'til she'd gotten them right. But despite this, she was not comfortable with speaking to people in English. "Někteří kluci jsou pronásleduje mě, mohl byste prosím skrýt mě?"Read phonetically Dictionary - View detailed dictionary
noun
Paní
Dáma
Slečna
Unfortunately, she had been in such a hurry, that what she meant to come out in English, came out in Czech instead.
The nine-year old had attempted to look cute, but the ugly cuts on her face made little chance of that happening.
The woman looked at the little girl, a flash of pity crossing her features. The nine-year old, through practice due to years of living with her Mother, resisted the urge to scowl. She didn't like pity, though she didn't understand half of what the woman had said, the nine-year old couldn't stand being pitied.
Her eldest brother had always said that being pitied was demeaning.
With a look of panicked fear, the woman's movements had taken on a more panicked and jerky manner. As if seeing something that frightened her, through the windows or something…
The young woman literally started to shove the small girl into the back room, closing the door quickly with a forefinger raised across the middle of her lips as an indication for the child to stay silent.
A small clink indicated the dropping of a set of keys. There on the floor lays a set of several keys of different designs… The nine-year old moved forward to retrieve them, but as she grasped them she heard voices from the other side of the almost closed door.
The little girl crept toward the door to listen…
"Well, hey there sweet thing." It was one of the boys from before, "nice rack," The one-eyed child could practically hear the leer in his voice, "you seen a small brat run by here? 'Bought yay high, black hair, ugly lookin' mug?"
"No, can't say that I have," The shopkeeper girl answered stoically, "now if you don't wanna buy anything, I suggest you get outta here."
"Aw," said the second teen, "don't be like that sweet cheeks…"
"And he does mean 'sweet cheeks'." Sniggered the third teenager.
"Now," started Teenager One, as the black-haired child had mentally dubbed him, "I know yer lyin' ya little bitch." The eavesdropping child could hear something, the near silent clicking that sounded so familiar… What was it?
The sound of a gun being cocked.
The nine-year old inched her way backwards as the conversation continued, before her elbow bumped into a solid wall behind her…
"Now yer gonna tell me where that little brat went," Teenager One hissed dangerously, "or I'll blow yer brains tah bits."
"Or we could screw 'er boss." Said Teenager Three with an almost sickeningly gleeful tone.
The nine-year old turned around, to see that she hadn't backed into a wall, but a locked glass case. A locked, glass case, containing a single shotgun. An old-fashioned, double-barreled, break-action shotgun to be precise…
With slightly trembling fingers, the girl gripped the first key and tried it in the case's lock. She'd decided what needed to be done, Big Brother had always told her that lives were but short specks in history. He'd always said that life was nothing but a big game board with no rules, that everything goes.
The first key failed, so she tried the second key…
"Get the hell outta my store." The shopkeeper girl spat bitterly.
That key failed too, so the nine-year old tried another one…
"Jus' tell us, then we'll go easy on yah." Teenager 4 said with a slight sneer in his voice.
Big Brother always said to watch out for number one, yourself. Didn't that woman know that she was gonna die?
The fourth key failed to be the correct choice, so the child tried a fifth key on the ring…
"Damn you! You always give us trouble," A dull smack was heard, then a scuffling, and a dull thud, but the child knew what it was, it was the sound of being beamed with the butt-end of a gun. She knew the sound all too well...
The fifth key failed too… Last one…
"So we'll just show ya why ya shouldn't say no to us…" A muffled shouting could be heard, scuffling and some more hitting…
The teens sniggered perversely…
The child pried the case open and grasped the shotgun, she'd only fired one once, and that was with her Big Brother helping her…
It was a break-action shotgun as the nine-year old had previously noted, quietly, she opened the gun, and searched in the darkness of the back room for the shells…
More muffled shouting, some sort of grunting…
The small child shuddered in repulsion, she wasn't naïve, she knew what was going on, disgusting, horrible things…
Slowly, she let her wet jacket slid to the floor, revealing her still soaked shorts and tatty blue, bloodied t-shirt. The gun was loaded, and she jammed a couple more shotgun shells into her pocket…
She crept forward silently, sliding the door open ever so slightly, just to let her thin frame through. Gripping the gun, she silently spied the teenagers from behind the counter, near to the floor…
'Ew.' Was her only thought, as she felt remembered that her own life was at stake here.
As far as she was concerned, the only one who gave a damn about her was dead, and these guys were standing between her and survival…
Her Big Brother's words echoed throughout her mind…
"Survival of the fittest my dear, anything goes…"
Slowly she came out of her kneeling position, to a crouching one, like a coiling snake, ready to strike.
"Anything goes…"
She cocked the gun in her hands, it was rather heavy for her, but she rested it against her shoulder still. Then she stood up, steeling her resolve as she abandoned the safety provided by the counter.
"But all it really comes down to…"
"What the-?" Teenager Two had his eyes open, as the one-eyed girl took aim, her finger steady on the shotgun's trigger even as her arms protested at carrying such weight…
"Is how badly…"
She pulled the trigger…
"How badly do you want to live?"
BANG!
The resounding shot rang throughout the store, yet bled into the sounds of roaring thunder. The recoil was terrible, as the butt of the gun seemed to jack-knife into her bony shoulder…
"Oh shit!" It was Teenager Three.
"How badly do you wantto fucking live?"
The little girl stepped forward into the light, suddenly in a full-dash. Without enough time to reload the gun, she did the next best thing… She gripped the gunpoint end and swung it like a bat…
"How far will you go for it?"
It made contact with the surprised rapist's head… The one with the gun, Teenager One… Teenager Three still stared at the bleeding bodies of his two fallen 'pals'… They had been in close enough proximity to each other and the floor, that when the girl had fired, the bullets had gone straight through the first one's head and right into the second's.
Wasting no time, the nine-year old swung again.
"How hard will you fight for that right?"
Teenager Three seemed to get over the shock quickly as he drew a long type of knife the girl didn't recognize, but out of the corner of her eye she saw him.
Teenager One was so dazed that, he'd lost grip on his handgun, a beat-up Glock 17.
She'd seen it, and grabbed it as she spun around…
"How hard and long will you claw for it?"
The man's knife was poised for her small skull with the way he ran, she did what came naturally when living with her Mother…
She pulled the trigger…
"What will you do for it?"
BANG!
She took a leaping step back, letting the man fall with an agonized scream almost completely drowned out as thunder and rain raged outside the store.
Setting the gun on the high counter, she returned her left hand to assisting her right in holding the shotgun as a bat. She lifted it again, her muscles protesting as her adrenaline rush had started to ebb…
"How much would you give up for it?"
Unable to bear the complete weight of lifting the shotgun above her head, she had settled for more of a diagonal sweep… As she brought it down upon the male's skull, once, twice…
"How many bodies will you step over?"
Three times…
"How many will you drag down?"
Four times, five…
"Will you steal for it?"
Six… Then she lost count as her muscles simply gave into a litany of tired, but brutal downward swings…
"Will you lie for it?"
When she had finally stopped, there was nothing of his face recognizable but the bloody mess left behind… His body had long stopped writhing, his throat now silent…
A shifting noise…
The nine-year old spun around, to the furious Teenager One as he began to stand up…
With a speed born of cold desperation, she dashed for the gun she'd set on the counter. Using her right hand to bring the bloodied butt-end of the shotgun to connect sharply with his shins…
Teenager One looked up sharply, only to stare down the end of the gun barrel, pointed right, between, his, eyes…
"Would you kill for it too?"
He was about to make a grab for it, but as his hands twitched, the one-eyed girl knew better…
"What rules shall you break?"
She pulled the trigger...
"Whose lives shall you take?"
BANG!
Then he lay there, dead.
Blood pouring profusely out of their still bodies, they lay there on that linoleum floor, still.
Upon closer inspection, the nine-year old realized that the first two had had their skulls caved in due to the close proximity of the shotgun… Not just caved in even, the one whom the child had aimed for, his skull had almost literally lost its top, leaving nothing but what looked like an uneven, bloody soup bowl with its contents strewn out on the floor.
But as far as the nine-year old was concerned, the bottom line was: those threats were dead. Plain and simple.
'As all threats should be.' The girl tried to think logically to herself, as she went to check in the shop-girl lady… Only to find that she was dead as well.
Then the nine-year old realized that, in surprise, one of the attackers had shot her through the head. Killing the poor woman…
Something in the little girl felt… A little bit sad… But then she realized that now was not the time… She had to take what she needed and leave as quickly as she could…
Somehow, she knew that killing them should have bothered her… But, through her exhaustion and the aches and pains of her body, she just couldn't find it in herself to give a damn…
"How much of your soul will you let die?" Her brother's voice seemed to echo in her head ominously.
The girl shook her head in efforts to focus on the task at hand.
Avoiding the growing pool of pungent, sticky, metallic-smelling blood, the girl found that snatching a backpack off the rack was easy, and so was stuffing several cans of canned ravioli, spam, sardines and other snack foods into the bag along with some fruit. Slowly, she began transferred the contents of her discarded messengers' bag into the backpack as well…
A swiss army knife, a flashlight, and a small canteen… Then there it was, her Big Brother's prized possession, a classic Italian switchblade knife. It's blade well-kept and sharp, with its faded blue handle glinting like a promise.
The small girl sighed as she put it away… The moved onto the cash register, realized that the key was around the dead shop-girls neck, she pulled it off of the corpse and used it to open the register… Rubbing her tired eyes, she stuffed the bills into a small ziplock bag she'd retrieved from one of the store shelves…
Moving on, she found another back room, with screen showing the whole store…
'Cameras…' The nine-year old realized.
She did the only sensible thing that came to mind, she rummaged around, until she found the security tape. Then, she proceeded to smash it, and rip the film out of the cassette, destroying the security video beyond all repair.
Afterwards, she went to pick up her still wet, but drying, jacket and folded it neatly, before placing it in her new backpack. She went and grabbed a toothbrush and toothpaste from the shelf, along with a plastic comb, a small first aid kit and a can-opener and threw them in the pack as well.
Spotting a selection of colored beanies, the nine-year old girl chose a plain black one, and pulled on a bandana to wrap around her head, covering the scarred side of her face. As well as putting on a dry 'Hello Kitty' t-shirt from off a rack, unfortunately, there were no shorts her size. During this, she checked the bullet wound that stung her chest, and re-bandaged it almost mechanically.
After she finished stuffing her bag with the light, but much needed necessities, the nine-year old headed for the door…
The girl had put on a plastic rain poncho from the store shelves as well ditching the shotgun, it was simply too heavy. But after searching Teenager Two's body, she found a small, 9mm pistol, she put it on safety and stashed it her bag, avoiding the ever-enlarging blood puddle as much as her small stature would allow.
The little girl looked back at her bloody handiwork with a numb feeling in her chest… Disappointment made her stomach clench slightly, there was no time to rest, not now…
'A few days ago,' she thought emptily, 'I would've felt a little sad, and Mother would yell at me for being a sloppy shot.'
The rain and wind didn't let up outside, howling and roaring like and explosion.
'A few days ago,' the one-eyed child remembered, 'I had my Big Brother to protect me, and a roof over my head…'
She walked out into the rain, quickly settling for a restless pace, to get as far away from that store as she could…
'A few days ago, I wasn't on my own,' she thought, 'I needed someone to protect me…'
Thinking back to the corpses that lay dead and bleeding on the linoleum floor of the convenience store, the girl realized, that she didn't need anybody to protect her anymore… She couldn't afford it anyhow…
'Less than a week ago, I had two eyes…' The nine-year old thought sadly before taking more steps forward.
'I don't need to be protected anymore,' the nine-year old thought with grim austerity, 'time to grow up.'
She thought back, of her life up until that point, full of misery coupled with her childish naivety.
'No more.' The child passed a mirror shop… But despite her need to keep going, she stopped for a moment and looked into one of them. 'I can't stop now…'
Her own eyes, her expression, she hardly recognized it.
All it took was one glance and the girl knew, she'd changed. She wasn't some scared little kid anymore and Big Brother wasn't here to save her from their beastly Mother and other brothers… He wasn't here to give her advice, or tell her in his own way that he cared about what happened to her…
'No matter,' the nine-year old thought to herself, all she could afford right now was taking care of herself.
So she found a bus stop, prepared ten dollars for the bus ride, and waited…
OOOOOOOOOO
The bus came, this time the bus driver looked at her curiously as he gave her several dollars in change. He asked her in English where she was going.
"F- f- far," The nine-year old stuttered out in English, "a- as it g- goes."
"Okay then." The man immediately forgot about her, as she sat down somewhere in the middle of the bus.
Several bus stop and three short naps later, she looked out the window to see the bus passing the city limits…
It said, 'Now Leaving Ripley Corners, Nebraska.'
As they passed the city limits, the child observed that there were several other passengers on the bus as well. For her own safety she decided to stay quiet…
Staring at the rain that beat down against the bus windows, she saw her face again…
No, she wasn't some scared little kid anymore. That little girl lay dead in a ditch trapped beneath her Big Brother's corpse. She wasn't that little girl anymore, she raised her right hand to absently rub at the recently re-bandaged wound on her chest… Almost hit her heart, missed by who-knows-how- much… And the miracle? She was alive.
Hell, the nine-year old knew that she should've been dead when the shrapnel had embedded itself in her face and torso, it had cost her an eye, but her Big Brother had saved her. He had went back for her when not even their Mother would.
What could she say about that, really?
"The past is past, the present's laid before you, and the future's determined by how hard you fight for it."
'That little girl is dead,' she thought as she stared out the window, 'I'm not what I used to be…'
She thought of her old name, the one given to her by her mother,of all people. But, it wasn't her, not at all…
'I hate my name,' she thought as her ire rose, 'I hate it.'
"'Cause it's everything you're not."
Thinking of the day's events, she felt as if she'd lost something… A piece of herself, being replaced by something else… The girl just couldn't place what it was…
With these thoughts, the nine-year old came to the conclusion that she needed a new name for herself. One that was hers, one that she could give herself, something that would fit…
OOOOOOO
One Month Later…
Things had went well for a small while since, hitching rides on the back of trains and city bus rides had gotten the young girl across several US states with little trouble apart from losing the gun somewhere between Kansas, Missouri and Indiana.
Unfortunately, luck of any sort never lasts as long as one ever wanted it too. Eventually, her stocked food had run out, and she was strapped for a meal.
When trying to buy herself a sandwich from a café somewhere in Ohio, she had almost been literally accosted by a very nosy woman.
The woman just basically wouldn't leave her alone, never shutting up and putting words in her mouth before the nine-year old girl had even a chance to even attempt to brush her off.
Before she was even aware of what was going on, she had been herded to a police station, with them looking through the lost children files…
'Hah,' the girl thought, 'I'm not on your files dimwits.'
"Could you please tell us where your parents are sweetie?" Asked a female officer in English.
The nine-year old thought fast, what would big Brother say?
"Lie, lie your lying little ass off and deny, deny, deny!"
"Ona je mrtvá, aby mě." The little girl was pissed, of course now they'd stick her in the system. Why should she cooperate? Let them try to figure out what the hell she was saying…
"Does anyone here speak Russian?" The lady went back to the other people at their desks…
The little girl felt a little insulted, how come no-one could ever tell that she was speaking Czech? Stupid people…
"Mrs. Riggs." The officer lady pointed to herself emphatically. "Mrs. Riggs."
The woman pointed to the little girl twice…
'What kind of moron does she take me for?' The one-eyed child felt like rolling her eye in annoyance, but decided to play along none the less.
"Ripley." The nine-year old pointed to herself emphatically. She didn't know why she decided to name herself after the city she'd left back in Nebraska. But somehow, it just felt like, it fit... It was hers.
OOOOOOOOO
Several hours later, the lady officer came back, practically herding her to the door.
Standing by a car, was a rather stout and robust woman dressed in pink with a watery smile upon her face. From listening to the two women talk, the nine-year old learned that the fat woman in pink was Miss Hattie, who ran an orphanage.
The newly dubbed Ripley observed the smiling, pink woman and immediately decided that she was a bitch. She reminded Ripley too much of her Mother, only far less attractive and less viper-ish. Still, Ripley could tell that the woman loathed her behind that fake smile, actually the nine-year wouldn't have been surprised to find out that the woman must've loathed children in general.
And in no time Ripley stood before a large building, 'Ms. Hattie's Home for Girls.'
And with a venomous glare from Miss Hattie, Ripley took her first step into her personal hell…
OOOOOOOO
One Year Later…
Ripley was turned ten today, she spent her birthday cramped up in the 'Box of Shame' and the rest of the day stretching out the cricks in her neck.
As so far, in Ripley's opinion, life sucked. The chances of being adopted were nil, for Ripley at least, she'd already created a reputation for being sent back…
Who gave a damn anyway? She was just the terror child no-one could understand, she still refused to speak a word to anyone.
As she retreated to her small cot in the corner of the room, she realized that she had new roommates. Three girls, a two-year old girl with black hair, a five-year old blonde girl, and a seven-year old, bespectacled brunette were resting on their beds…
'They're adorable,' thought Ripley, 'they'll be outta here in no time…'
"Wait, no Agnes-!" Came the whispered voice of the seven-year old brunette from across the small room.
"Um…" Ripley's train of thought was broken by a tugging at her sleeve, only to see the a small two-year old girl with big brown eyes looking up at her with a small, tatty, stuffed unicorn toy clutched in her tiny right hand. "Hi, m- my nwame's Ag- nes. Wha's yours?"
Ripley didn't know whether the kid was naïve or just plain stupid, none of the kids approached the violent ten-year old, no-one ever said hello, or introduced themselves on account of their fearsome aura. Hell, even if they didn't know her, usually the scars and the fucking, missing right eye would scare them off for the first two months; and Ripley knew that her terrible personality would scare anyone away for good.
The ten-year old could tell that the brunette wanted nothing more than to pull Agnes away for the smaller girl's safety.
Still, it was nice to be approached without being yelled at…
And just like that Ripley decided that she liked Agnes, and when Ripley made decisions she stuck with them.
Ripley sat up on her bed and bent down to be at eye-level with Agnes.
She could see the bespectacled brunette holding her breath, ready to rescue the little girl should Ripley display any intent to inflict harm upon the little girl that was Agnes.
'Good sister,' Ripley thought approvingly, she noticed the older brunette's physical similarities to the little girl standing before her, 'lucky kid.'
Ripley smirked, and shook Agnes's outstretched hand gently, and opened her mouth, speaking for the first time in a year, her voice raspy from disuse…
"Nice to meet you Aggie," Ripley said in raspy English, "my name's Ripley."
The little girl laughed innocently, and Ripley felt the corner of her mouth quirk up slightly...
'Maybe my roommates won't be such pains in the ass as I thought.' Ripley thought as she looked over to the other two children.
"So," Ripley started, her voice still raspy from disuse, "you two have names or should I call you Thing One and Thing Two?"
"My name's Edith!" The blonde five-year old declared loudly, jumping up from her cot.
"It's Margo." Said the brunette politely.
"Cool." Ripley replied, and the small girls began to talk to her…
It felt nice, and Ripley never even noticed as she talked more than she had in her entire life…
Ripley never even noticed herself smiling for the first time since her Big Brother's death…
And so it began…
TRANSLATIONS!
Dáma?– (Czech) Lady?
Nekteri kluci jsou pronasleduje me, mohl byste prosim skryt me? – (Czech) Some guys are chasing me, could you please hide me?
Ona je mrtvá, aby mě. – (Czech) She is dead to me.
A/N: Okay, in my world the three girls came to the Orphanage at the ages of: Margo = 7, Edith = 5, Agnes = 2. Those are the ages, and Ripley is three years older than Margo. No, Ripley will not take over the story, I just had a plot bunny. If you hate OCs then find another fanfic to read. Oh and about Ripley's language thing, her native language is Czech, but she knows English because her Big Brother made her learn, but she prefers to speak Czech because no-one understands it. Also, if you lived at Miss Hattie's would you even want to talk to anyone? Anyways, this chapter was FOURTEEN pages of hell to write, but I finally got all the backstory out and will go into movie-verse next chap. Tell me did you guys enjoy the chapter? Please give me feedback, I want to know it there's something I'm missing or doing wrong, and don't worry I'll do my best to keep the characters in character. So… REVIEW PLEASE! REVIEWZ KEEP ME WRITING! If anybody wants an update, I need REVIEWZ! (foams at mouth) Next chapter will feature Gru!
OOOOOOO
EXPLANATION: Note that she can both speak and read English and Czech. Ripley just chooses not to talk to anyone (until Margo, Edith and Agnes of course).
OOOOOOO
WARNING: If anyone says that Ripley is a fucking mary-sue, there's gonna be some FURY RAININ' DOWN!
OOOOOOO
OC Character Bio(for next chapter):
Given(original) Name: Unknown
Current Name: Ripley
Gender: Female
Age: 9 to 10(prologue), 13 plus(next chapter onward)
Height: 4 ft and 2 in.(prologue), 5 ft. (next chapter onward)
Weight: 66 lbs.(prologue), 93.6 lbs. (next chapter onward) –note that she's underweight–
Hair: Black
Eye: Blue
Skin: Fair –pale
Body Build: Small (ectomorph)
Distinguishing Features: Missing her right eye, several scars on right side of her face
Ethnic Background: Unknown except for her speaking fluent Czech, won't ruin it for you. No spoiler for you. ;P
OOOOOOO
REVIEW! IMAGINARY KITTEN-AGNES COOKIES TO ALL REVIEWERS!