Frayed: Alright, I started this story a little over two years ago...and, well, to be honest...pretty much since I started here, so long ago, I've been meaning to go over the whole thing and improve it immensely. Original story, up to Chapter Twenty-Three, can be found at .net/s/2930521/1/Celestial_Winds. So let me summarise how this story starts and where it's going: we drift into New Orleans, a city steeped in culture and torn by the subversive powers of the Thieves and Assassins' Guilds. A web of secrets and lies...about to be torn wide open...and who is at the centre, be she black widow or ensnared prey? Why, it's my OC character, Celeste!
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Chapter One: Mon Pere's Orders
The wind slashed at the girls' figures. They cut lonely shapes, wavering reflections in the choppy water, slender forms silhouetted against the endless stretch of low, grey clouds that hung ominously above them. Two girls – no, two young women- standing on the stone bridge over the water. Bella Donna's blonde hair was almost colourless in the overcast day. Her bright, blue eyes were steely, sharp as flint, and her painted lips were pressed into a severe line and spoke of nothing but business. In two hands a dark revolvee, with the Assassin Guild's symbol on it embellished on gold. A pistol and dagger crossing- how very appropriate.
The other girl, at whom the gun was aimed, smiled ruefully, her silver-grey eyes mirroring the unhappy sky, as they wandered across the barrel of the gun to meet the eyes of the woman she'd called 'sister' for half of her life. There was a storm coming. The girl's long, ebony locks whipped across her pale face, leaving stinging lines of pink across her delicate features.
They could well have been sisters. Neither was particularly tall, but each stood straight and still, as their eyes met. Indeed, they wore almost identical outfits. Black leather dusters- the colour dull and without shine, but the quality flawless and the cut flattering. Similar material, though lighter, curved over their sleek figures. The same belt with the same gun holsters, although Bella Donna's was currently empty. The blonde girl's outfit had touches of gold- the belt buckle, the shining buttons and the plain chain around her neck- the other girl the same, but with touches of bright silver. On the girl's wrist, dangling just below the duster's sleeve, a shimmering sliver of bright silver caught the eye. If one were to capture that unshaking hand and examine the bracelet around that slender wrist, the name, 'Celeste', could be read.
Celeste- for that was indeed the dark-haired girl's name- took a step backwards, towards stone ledge of the bridge that would prevent a drunken New Orleans' citizen from taking a dip in the bayou. Belle narrowed her eyes. Celeste gave a rather morbid smile..then took another step back.
"Don't move," Belle ordered coldly, training the gun on her target's torso.
"Why not, Belle? It's not like ya couldn't hit me if I ran. Y'always were the better one with guns," Celeste retorted, her voice given a husky edge of exhaustion...her eyes shadowed. "I'm surprised Marius sent ya anyway. Why didn't he send someone who'd shoot straight away, though hesitatin' ain't your style."
Belle advanced slightly. She was within six paces of Celeste. She gave a small noise of frustration, as if irritated at herself for not simply shooting and ending the charade. This tension wasn't evident in her voice, nor in her steady hand.
"Mon pere's given ya dis last chance to come back. Even said he'd give ya a trial- haven't ya wondered why ya still breathin', Leste?" she said, false bravado in her tone, only to be immediately met with Celeste's angry reply.
"Well, ain't your pere the model of generosity. I'm not comin' in so shoot or put that pistol away. I'm done wid the Assassins and I'm sick of these stupid guild wars."
"Ya were told when ya joined. Ya only leave da guild with a knife in da back," she spat back, just as quickly, aiming the gun at her old friend's heart. "Guess a bullet hole would do though."
"M'not sorry for what I did, Belle. The Guild's been good to me and all, but I sure as hell ain't a killer for hire. Marius knew that the day he took me in."
"But ya killed ya own team-mate. For a thief," Belle spat. She hated the thieves with a passion. So much had changed since that night. "Henri is dead. Julien could die too...and ya did this to him. After everythin' we've done for you!"
Celeste's clear, grey eyes stared steadily into Belle's own. If this was her death, she wouldn't look away from it. And, yet, something inside her was shifting. Her heart was fluttering in her ribcage and her breaths were shallow and fast...she felt light-headed and almost dizzied. She finally blinked, unsure why she was feeling this way. Her eyes once more met Bella's, steady.
"And I have no regrets," Celeste murmured, in a soft voice, which was torn away by a sudden gust of wind, but Bella's eyes saw her lips move.
"Den I may as well of shot ya da second I saw ya."
Celeste's heart was beating so loudly...something in her suddenly exploded...and, some six feet away, a shot rang out. For a moment, everything slowed...a bullet cut its way through the air towards her, seeming almost sluggish as the girl stared at it. Celeste bowed her head, almost in resignation, then straightened up. She wouldn't die this way. She couldn't die this way.
She refused to die this way.
The wind that had previously harried that New Orleans' bridge, sending early autumn leaves skirting around their feet, suddenly roared, the bullet's certain path suddenly wavering and the burning metal was torn from its sure route and borne somewhere into the chaotic skies above. Celeste clutched at her head, the wind pressure around her suddenly dropping. Belladropped to her knees as that phantom wind sought to pluck her from the ground. Celeste, too, fell to her knees. Her eyes were glowing a glaring, unearthly white now and her mouth was slightly agape...a soundless scream on her lips.
The wind only increased and it seemed to bear down on Bella. It was no ordinary wind. Celeste...Celeste, whose own scream of fear was the very voice of the wind. She couldn't control the power- the power of the wind itself- coursing through her veins. The wind seemed only to be an extension of her own body and she pressed her enemy. But that raw power couldn't be moulded by her and torrents of wind whipped through the area, dislodging house tiles and smashing windows. She tried to quash it.
"Arrête! Arrête! Arrête!" Belladonna was yelling, in panicked French. In one hand, she still clutched the gun and the other clawed for a grip, some purchase on the uneven stone of that bridge.
Celeste's hair was flaring outwards in a dark parody of an angelic halo. Her mouth was a rictus of fear.
"Trop! Il y a trop!!" she wailed.
Bella Donna, just as the winds tore her from the bridge, cried out, doing the only thing she could think of. She shot once, twice, three times. The wind snared two of the bullets, slamming them into the ground on either side of Celeste. The third flew true; seeking the elusive spot between two ribs- Bella Donna was masterful in her trade of death. As the bullet sliced its way through the torrents of wind, Celeste's body stiffened and her back arched, her feet lifting off the ground and her form jerked into the air, defying gravity. And yet, like any mortal, as the bullet cut through her jacket, there was a sharp pain as hot metal seared flesh...and then...
Celeste's eyes were human. Pained. A light spray of scarlet blood, whipped away by the wind. And, in that same moment, she disappeared.
--Flashback --
"Dis is stupid," Bella hissed, as Julien lifted her through the window, his hands lingering for just a moment extra, as if too ensure his precious, younger sister was safe. Needless to say, the Assassin princess quickly slapped those hands away.
"Hush, petite soeur. Pere wants dis trinket, so we gonna get't for de thieves do. Ya know why he wants it, heh? Think dat them dogs are better off with it?" Julien said in a low voice.
"Don't ya f'get I'm marryin' one of dem dogs. Y' can call him frère," Bella teased, taking Julien's place and holding the window open.
Julien scowled, his expression dark. He'd kill the devil-eyed thief, before he let him even touch his sister. In fact, the thief would probably meet with an unfortunate accident on the way home from the wedding. A strangling-related accident.
"And I though y'were marryin' that devilishly handsome Prince of Thieves," teased Celeste, as her pale, delicate hands appeared on the window seal and she easily levered herself up, sliding across the threshold neatly and landing silently.
A flash of metal and Bella's dagger was immediately at the girls throat.
"You thinkin' thoughts about my beau, stray?"
Celeste rolled her eyes, the corner of her mouth quirking at the old insult turned to affectionate nickname.
"Sure I am. He's a fine piece'f flesh, but I'm thinkin' what a mess it'll be when I'm gonna be the one picking up all the pieces of it after you've had ya fun with him Belle. Unless ya planned on stayin' faithfull and close, heh?"
Bella smiled and re-sheathed the dagger. Her eye flickered to the window, expectant, before returning to Celeste.
"Pere says he doesn't want no blood spilt unless ya have to," she said with very little sincerity, before turning a critical gaze to Celeste. "Is Benoit coming up?"
"Non. Benny-boy be parking the car."
She spoke Benoit's name with contempt. The guy, despite his cockiness and being a member of the Assassins Guild's elite, was as exciting as a rock. A rock that wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. It wasn't as if Celeste could tell him who she was really with…she couldn't see the trigger-happy Benoit taking it well …she briefly let her thoughts linger on how Bella and Julien would react, let alone the whole family. Unpleasantly, at the least.
"Thieves," hissed Julien, as, automatically, the three faded back into the shadows, breaths held, not a movement to betray their alert presence. Three figures were indeed slipping past, inky blobs in the museum's twilight darkness. The silent watchers would have missed it, if not for the low murmur of voices...somewhat argumentative, as if their minds weren't entirely on business.
"No shooting. Too loud," breathed Julien. "Da tallest one's mine."
It was obvious that it was indeed Remy Le Beau and two of the farflung members of Le Beau's seemingly endless clan. The Elixir of Life guaranteed many children in a generation. Celeste's heart fluttered slightly, a shiver running down her spine or trepidation.
'Too many thieves,' thought Julien. 'May's'well do Jean-Luc a favour and get rid of one.'
They skirted the walls, towards the place that the jewel they sought was displayed. Well, rather, where it had been formerly displayed.
"They're fast, I give'em that," Celeste murmured as Belle swore silently.
The jewel was gone. A clean circle sliced, as neatly as anything, through the glass cabinet. Bella cursed, stealth forgotten...they'd probably even disarmed the alarm for the thieves. But the prize was not lost yet. A sharp motion of her hand spurred the group into movement, sprinting towards the back of the museum, towards the most likely exit point. And, sure enough, there were three figures, turning in surprise, poised for fight or flight...but they wouldn't be given the liberty of choice.
"Take'em," ordered Belladonna.
"Le Beau!" bellowed Julien harshly.
The tallest turned slightly, head still bowed, auburn hair loose across his forehead.
"Bella Donna, mon amore, Remy didn' think dat thieving was your style," the Prince of Thieves said smoothly, ignoring Julien.
"Ya got something of mine, Remy. I want it."
There was a low laugh and he raised an eyebrow and lifted his head. He revealed his glowing eyes- a glinting scarlet on bottomless black. Those eyes now glittered with amusement.
"Non, mon amore. Remy'll be givin' ya the big jewel at th' wedding, but ya can't have dis one."
One of the dark-haired thieves was eyeing Celeste with burning eyes, then tipped her an obvious, yet suggestive wink. The corner of the girl's mouth quirked in a barely concealed smile, which she quickly transfigured into a pretty scowl, glaring at the offender.
"Eyes ta'yaself thief. Ya don't want bebes, do ya Belle? Why don't we castrate'em?"
Mock horror on Remy's face, a barely muffled chuckle that seemed terribly inappropriate for the situation, with an eerie edge that made Celeste's muscles tighten reflexively and a cold feeling flood her spine. All eyes flicked back to Remy, as he reached into a coat and pulled out a card.
"Dose be another set of Remy's jewels ya can't have. 'Sides, Remy learnt a new trick."
The card in his hand suddenly began to glow. Bright, crimson light flickering up its edges, It was fascinating, but Celeste, wary, was edging to the side.
"Bella, Remy doesn't think dat did marriage gonna work out. J'ai de meilleures choses à faire que marient une chienne folle comme toi."
He threw the card at their feet. A triumphant grin on the thief's face.
"Move," yelled Celeste, instinctively dodging to the side as Bella whipped behind a pillar.
Hot-headed Julien strode forward.
"You'll pay for that, ya devil-eyed batard!"
The card whined plaintively. And then it exploded. Julien's figure was briefly outlined by red light, before he was sent flying backwards into the very pole that shielded Bella, with a dull thud and sharp exhalation. His eyes were closed. In the dim, museum light, one side of his face gleamed wetly.
"Julien!" Bella screamed, whipping out her gun and recklessly firing shots into the smoky darkness. There was one sharp cry of pain and someone fell to the ground.
"Ya look after him, I'll get th' jewel!"
Celeste dashed into the darkness, slender figure immediately swallowed by the darkness...she felt, rather than saw them. She stopped abruptly.
"Etienne? Y'alright? Eti?" she called in a soft, hesitant voice.
"S'okay," a male voice murmured.
Etienne limped forward, his leg oozing blood, supported by his brother, Theo. The youngest Le Beau looked disgusted at the heavy reliance he placed on the other. Celeste acknowledged Theo with a brief nod, before moving to Etienne, body just brushing his as she worriedly looked up at his shadowed eyes. Etienne gave a familiar grin, despite the pain, he was already leaning down to kiss her, when Celeste quickly placed two gentle fingers against his lips. Celeste had always been the cautious one.
"Etienne, ya gotta get outta here. Bella's gonna kill y'all. Julian doesn't look too good..."
"We be on our way, chere. Didn't know dat Remy'd do that. Idiot. Looks like da guild war's gonna get bad now."
"Remy's gone. He took da jewel and he ran," Theo whispered, seeming weary. "Don't think dat we'll be seein' him any time soon."
The smoke was starting to clear, so Celeste quickly moved to Etienne's side, whispering, "Ya gotta get outta here, both of ya."
She linked an arm with Etienne, supporting him, only to have him automatically try and push her away with gentle, but strong hands.
"Non, m'amore. You get outta here. Dat crazy femme can't see you with us. Your death too."
He was holding his own weight and his good leg was shaking slightly, but reached out a hand to stroke her pale face. Before she had a chance to repel her again, he leaned forward to plant a chaste kiss on her mouth.
"What da hell is going on here?"
Out of the darkness, Benoit strode. Dark auburn-streaked hair slicked back, expression dark, a scowl of unbridled anger touching his sharp features... Celeste turned as if electrocuted, as Benoit's angry shouts continued, rocking the silence of the museum.
"Is dat what ya turned me down for? Dat piece of thieven' trash?" he yelled, pulling out one of his throwing knives. He was a notoriously good shot.
Celeste immediately whipped out her gun. She'd trained with Benoit for more than four years, but her resolve was unwavering as she trained it over his torso.
"Get back, Benoit."
There was a crazy gleam in her rejected suitor's eyes and he flicked his hand forward, just as Celeste shot. Celeste's shot slammed just below his heart, but his shot was truer. As Benoit fell gasping and wheezing, his lung punctured, Etienne had slumped onto his brother. A dagger in his side and blood coursed down his side. He took gasping breaths of air, only to exhale them wetly...a red spray colouring the air. His eyes already seemed to glaze over, seeing something in the empty darkness that they didn't.
"Bella Donna," he wheezed once, before he closed his eyes for the last time.
"Eti?" Celeste whispered, before repeating his name desperately. It was too late, he was gone. She hadn't even understood what his last words had meant, as he named the blonde assassin.
"Get out of here," Theo whispered urgently. "Now. Eti wouldn't want ya caught up in this. Get out of da guild, get outta New Orleans. Ya can't go back now."
Celeste took a last look at Benoit, whose breathing had stopped too, unnoticed by the panicked thief and the soon-to-be-exiled assassin.
She took two steps backwards, threatened tears spilling as she looked at Theo, as he gently lowered his little brother's still form onto the cold tile of the museum. The distant ringing of sirens reached her ears and, dashing away tears, she turned sharply and ran into the darkness. There was no going back, ever. It was her first kill, her own team-mate. It was her first love, her enemy. No going back now.
Theo faded into the darkness, briefly bowing his head as he bid farewell. Images fled across his vision as he turned, heading for the skylight they'd entered through. A dark-haired boy with a cheeky grin, besting him yet again as they wrestled playfully...boosting him over a high wall as the sound of vicious barking neared...his shy expression as he fumbled for words, as he spoke of his newest love. Etienne lay cold on the floor. The guilds had an unspoken agreement. The dead would be respected and returned.
And, as he departed, two bodies lay on the ground, slowly losing the warmth of life. Becoming cold. Belle had seen it all. Etienne, as his soul departed from his body, had seen her and tried to warn them.
"There's no goin' back now," she said coldly, hands red with Julien's lifeblood.
And, leaning casually against a display, like some archaic priestess for a long-dead deity, ice blue eyes laughed as the game began.
--End Flashback --
Have you ever had that dream when you're flying? When you're so high above everything that nothing matters? Snippets of memory. Moments of seeming consciousness. Not controlling the path of your destiny, but simply content to float, to let the wind carry you wither it will?
Celeste dreamt. She disembodied herself from what it had been to be human. Everything had been too hard. Now, she floated on air. Or was she air? Either way, she had no desire to return.
She was a wisp of air in the wide, infinite sky. Air doesn't feel. Air doesn't think. Air is nowhere, but it is everywhere. These words echoed through her head. For a moment, her human consciousness arose.
'You're doin' this,' she told herself, 'this must be 'anoth one of them powers.'
But she quelled such thoughts, content to not be human. But she didn't think she was a mutant either. Perhaps she should try to turn back.
'No. Not yet,' she said. 'Gotta get away...oh God...Etienne...'
Before the grief could well, she closed her mind's eye and let go entirely. She felt her fragmented form float and join an air current. It would be spring soon and the warmer winds of the south blew ever north...
(/\)
Frayed: So, I think it's improved. What about you? Celeste has discovered her powers, y'all know what she's running from and now she's headed north…what's north of New Orleans? Why…Bayville, New York! Drifting upon the air currents, Celeste had forgotten herself and doesn't want to remember…and, in the next chapter, Cerebro has detected something strange…and what has Storm so bothered? Find out when I finally get around to updating the next chapter. Peace out. READ AND REVIEW PLEASE!
Translations:
Arrête! "Stop!"
Trop! Il y a trop! "Too much! There's too much!"
J'ai de meilleures choses à faire que marient une chienne folle comme toi. "I have better things to do than marry a crazy bitch like you."