Ok, I know this is irresponsible of me, but yet another story idea has popped into my little head after I've read Songwind's Bishonen and Bishojo fic. It struck me as an interesting concept, and after looking around a bit, it seems she doesn't mind others playing in her sandbox, provided credit is given.
Now, as we all probably know, I don't exactly go with 'everything is fine in la-la land' kind of fics. At least, I try to keep to some basics that will make things interesting in whatever world/AU I'm having characters operate in. Such things like 'death', 'power structures', 'economics', 'group dynamics', etc. I also try to keep a realistic look when a character gains power boosts. To me, its never fun when the protagonist becomes uber powerful within the first few chapters. (Which reminds me that I have to go back and rewrite the first few chapters of UM, since Ranma does something suspiciously similar to that which I loathe.)
Case in point, I have a new char I would like to introduce to the Bishie world.
Bishonen and Bishojo: Daughter of the Mob
Chapter 1
It was an urgent hand that awoke her. A gasp froze in her throat instinctively as the world snapped into as much focus as could be had in the dead of night without the lights on. Michaela was one of those rare ones whose transition between waking and sleep was as minute as to be instantaneous. It was her mother shaking the seventeen year old, and the tension in her hand and frame let Michaela know something was distinctly 'up'.
"Quickly," her mama breathed in a tone so whisper quiet it could scarce be heard by her daughter let alone anyone else in the house. Her petite hands were stripping off the warm cocoon and pulling the youth from her bed.
"'Aela, my dearling, its finally happened, and they're here now. There is not much time."
In a similar tone, Michaela queried, the slightest amount of panic audible, "Mama, what's going on? Where are we going?"
Those warm hands that had eased every bruise and cradled her daughter's head against a maternal neck when times were bad paused in their pulling. Her mother's form whirled away towards the desk for a second. A quiet click and a tug against the plug pulled it from the wall. Michaela's eyes caught a sliver of movement outside her window. Refraining from the temptation of moving toward the window to get a better look, she returned her attention to her mother, who now had the laptop disconnected and shoved it in the teen's grasp.
"Mama, someone's outside the house." Again, there was only a hint of fear in her voice, but it didn't tremble and she didn't gasp or pant or cry out.
"I know, mi bebe, I must get you safe. Come," she commanded after taking her wrist and tearing down the hall toward the stairs, fleetfooted and making no sound. Both females instinctively avoided all the singing steps and creaky spots before stopping before the upstairs closet.
"The closet?"
"No, the crawl space up high. Hurry."
"There's only room for one." And understanding and horror dawned in the younger's eyes. There still was no outcry or gasp or sob.
Her petite mama looked up into her taller daughter's night black eyes. She tapped the laptop. "I want you to focus, mi bebe. Use this. Only see what is on the screen. Close your ears. Only know what this provides and block out what goes on below. Your father is gone now, and he can't hurt you, but those that come can, and will, if you make a sound. It is in mia mama's blood to stop the little sounds, so if you are caught it will be by your will."
Michaela looked like she was about to break down in her mother's arms, but those hands were pushing again. They took the laptop, and pushed their precious offspring up the shelves. 'Aela had to lift and shift the crawl space cover to the side before she could ascend. And when she turned to gaze down for one last sight, the laptop obscured her vision. The sound of something shattering, probably a window, was heard downstairs.
Twin pools of black looked up into their reflections. Her mama didn't say anything, but 'Aela could almost hear that lovely alto whisper her final words. I love you 'Aela, mi bebe. Live, cry for me, be angry, but be true to yourself. Be strong, you are of MY blood.
'Aela replaced the cover as softly as she could. Distant thumps reached her ears, the knowledge that her home was being invaded permeated her brain. She didn't want to think of what will happen to her mother when they found her. She didn't even want to joyfully imagine all of the gruesome ways her father might have expired. Instead, she shifted positions on the plywood sheeting that kept her from the insulation and falling through the ceiling.
Facing away from the exit, 'Aela sat with legs crossed and the laptop perched on her knees amongst the dust and detritus caused by never cleaning the attic like normal people. While she flipped the lid, steps sounded up the stairs and a hurried commotion was sounded down the hall. Peripherally, she knew her mother had been sighted, and was leading them away from the hiding spot.
Michaela was slowly shutting down the connections to her senses excepting sight. She was mentally focusing herself on the screen as it booted up and she brought it to the internet. Checking her messages was always the first thing on her internet routine, followed by checking for new fanfiction as well as all her favorite webcomics. Skimming down the list of new messages, a lock of thick curly olive black hair slid forward over an ear, but she barely noticed, just as she was only the slightest bit aware of the sounds of the rough shouts, fists smacking flesh and then bed springs creaking down the hall. Her subconscious did note that not once was there a cry of pain emitted by her mother. Perhaps all that talk about gramama's blood did hold some truth.
But something had caught her now dominant sense. A strange email was innocently sitting in her mailbox. There was no tagline, but neither did her filters block it out. Having pretty much nothing else to lose, she opened it and revealed in all its glory... an website address outside of her email, and did she want to step outside of the security of her email provider to access it? Frowning as her subconscious generated anger, she clicked the 'yes' button before momentarily wondering why she had so much anger when she was just checking her mail. Her conscious mind shied away from the train of thought after she remembered her mother telling her to focus on the internet, but her subconscious knew everything that was happening downstairs. And deep in her core, she was very frightened. But that which scares her also angers her. A lot. So it was a bone deep rage twinned with chill fear that churned and bubbled just underneath the placid surface curiosity she was exhibiting toward the interesting flashy website. If she were capable of growling without having to think about it, a feminine rumbling would have sounded throughout the small attic.
Her black eyes skimmed the site. She raised a brow at the idea of capturing some of her favorite characters. But then again, her most favorites were some of the males from Anne Bishop's Dark Jewels Trilogy, and they wouldn't be very happy with being bound. She also wasn't too thrilled with the thought of males at the moment for some odd reason. It was while she was contemplating such deep thoughts as to the objections fictional characters would have to being caught that there was a shifting sound behind her.
Michaela's finger was hovering over the in-built mouse pad whose pointer was hovering over the bottom of the screen. It was centered on the link 'Make Me a Trainer'. A shadowy figure lifted itself through the hole, chuckling darkly to himself. He ooched forward whispering vicious things about the sitting girl ahead of him, but she did not move. No reaction, no fear. It enraged him into lunging forward and settling a vice grip on her shoulder. Just when he was about to spin her around and throw her to the floor, there was a bright flash of light that emanated from the computer screen. Searing his eyes, he yelped and toppled backward, falling back through the hole and hitting his head on the way down.
Much later, when the thug thought about it handcuffed downtown at the police station, he convinced himself that the light was the police searchlights shining through the attic window. When he was questioned about the missing girl and the destroyed laptop found in the attic, he just shrugged and asked, 'what girl?'
End Chapter 1
A.N. Well? What do you think? I know I didn't actually get too much into the B&B world yet, but I think I left enough clues as to what went on to get her there. I've also left little bits as to a backstory for Michaela's maternal bloodline. Lets just say the women of her family have a forced control of their involuntary reactions. Unless they think about it consciously, they CAN'T gasp, sob, scream etc. even if its in pain, sadness, anger, or excitement, arousal, surprise etc. Just a quirk I threw in to make things interesting. Its not like it's a hereditary mutant power or anything. Really. Its just a genetic quirk, like its been bred out of them.
I also don't know if anyone picked up my hints about 'Aela's father. He ran with a mob somewhere, and probably died as a result of a turf war, which then brought the fight to his home, where wifey and little girl child were waiting. How wifey knew about what happened? Even I don't know. Perhaps she got an impromptu call to warn her, or she's just psychic that way. But yes, 'Aela's father was abusive to her. Not too bad, but then again, what do you think would happen with a daughter of a lower ranking mob affiliate?
