-1There she was- Barely accountable for the shade that she seemed to be. Wandering, huffing and puffing across the scape of suburban homelands. She didn't even know where she was- New York Harbor was the closest thing to assumption.
Her footsteps paled in sound as the night stumbled with her. Monotonously, concrete pavement flitted by, the stars pompous for light upon her hooded head. A dark cloak, perhaps a woodland green, fluttered full of motion at her traveling heels. Passing by, a rat clattered a tin can- the girl turned a head, and then spurred even quicker into the alleyways. Some minutes later, the shadowed thing found herself on the shores opposite of an oddly-built tower. The shimmering shape of a gigantic 'T' within the midst of a lapping beachside. Titan Tower. The girl exhaled a mutter, and continued her hasty twists and turns through the city.
Comely enough, she clambored onto the sides of a rather large hill; the beginnings of a cliffsided mountain range. Now, one could see in a barely unclouded starlight, one of her tapered hands fumbling with a scrap of paper, just a snippet of dusty white with some words scrawled on. The hand drew close to her chest, clutching the paper as if it were made of insanely rare gold. Leaves crumpled at her footfalls, some cicadas and squabbling crickets chirping concernedly at her nervous pace. The edge of her cloak caught on a snapped branch, and a quip of the fabric tore off. The girl made no notice, and speeded through bramble and fallen trees. She even leapt through a rather sharp-rocked creek, a continuous determined expression quivering on her sweet features. At last, her feet skidded before a rather normal, average-looking side of a foothill. The somewhat grassy dirt upon the hillside was pitted with pebbles and the usual assortment of rock chips, rotting leaves, and trash passerbies had ungraciously dropped. Nothing odd, or frightening- But the girl threw back her hood, and her eyes held the bouts of extreme terror as they stared into the earthen wall. How odd.
And then, quite ubruptly, another shade dropped down from the autumn trees above.
It was a man- Or, it was the shape of one, anyways.
Swathed in tight, black leather, was it?- Equally accented by blips of sunburnt orange, a smooth mask of harder material governing his face, (a small grillwork at the jaw-area for breathing, it seemed,) leaving a single slit of an eye to stare out devoid of any emotion this planet knew of. Protective metal bits stapled to his hands, arms, and practically everywhere on his torsos complimented the undoubtedly steel-welded shoes, which looked as if they could survive multitaneous bomb attacks and still look as if they were brand-new from the local villian-shoe-pavillon.The whole form was rigid with muscles: Yep, absolutely terrifying in the colors of coincidental Halloween. It stepped from the haunting shadows, and deigned to stay silent, unnerving the crap out of the girl.
The girl turned her pale face towards the being, and the lights of the full moon finally showed her building looks. Black hair with tints of shiny brown thickly framed an ovaline face, licking the middle of her back, and echoing the pleasantly dark hazel colour her irises took. And, furthermore, her eyes were in the shape of perked almonds, a true heritage of an ol' asianic background. She looked as if her 14th birthday had just skipped by, surmissed by her height, which barely was as tall as the other's shoulders. Now, her own brownie eyes grew in the already-skeletal light, boring deep into the other's single, uncovered eye.
Her small, slightly slack mouth wavered. "Slade."
The shade moved. It disappeared momentarily from naked sight, and reappeared half-a-length from her, the flexed arm whipping out a short rap to the neck. Somehow, the girl dodged it from being fatal, recieving the heavy tap on her jaw bone instead. It throbbed with the strength of a witchety cackle, a little reminder for her to remember her training.
The shade flashed from her view again, and when she heard the whistling wind of a fist heading her way, the girl retaliated- There was a funny 'snikt' sound, followed by a sudden pause.
The pause extended into microseconds, and then continued on for a full heartbeat. The girl had extended a thin arm, her hand folded in a classical ninjutsu position. The arrow of her lightning-speeded fingers had cometed through the shade's mask, very literally. Apparently her nimble hands controlled amounts of electricity. Electricity the colour of blood. Eyes wider, she withdrew her finger, and watched the shade crackle, and then fall. Static fizzled through the cranium- But this time the douses of electrical currents were the normal hue of yellow and heated blue. The shade: It was an automaton robot. The drone had a small seizure before the mask exploded from the head, the little puncture where her fingers had lapsed into clear. Decomposing metal collapsed with something resembling a living sigh, before the downfall of the blade.
But, actually, that was what she was.
The girl looked at her trembling fingers.
She was a living blade. The living blade, actually. #22, from the military's count, anyways.
Her mouth called out, "S-... Slade? Slade?..." It was like a blind baby lost in a sea of confusion, calling for his horrifyingly ignorant mother. "Slade?..."
And then, oh-to-hell, deep from the glimpseless darkness under an elm, a shadow replied. Enough with these mysterious shades, already!
"Dear child, where are you off to in such darkness?" Perhaps that was too cliche for someone like Slade, but that was just him, passing from one point of view to next when you least expected it.
The girl stared at the area where the voice had stirred. "Slade?.." she whispered stupidly, too stunned for anything but repitition, for now.
There he was- The exact same formation of the drone she had snicked of its life, but unlike the robotic counterpart, his single eye held onto a tad of human emotion: Wrath, anger, fury, mild surprise, hatred, and a sullen sarcasm beyond that. Slade cocked his head, his torso resting, serenly leaning on the trunk of the tree. His one eye grew into a tighter slit.
"What brings a young one like you out of town, into these frightening forests?" His somewhat baritone, oddly deep, yet light, tone was accented with pleasant words, flowing like the poison that dreaded kings' lips. It's kind of funny how scary a man in armoured tights can be.
"Slade!" Now, her body functions remorsely kicked in, and her shrill gasp echoed blandly around the scape. "I heard that they did that to you, too, and I've been searching for you ever since- I hafta learn how to control all of this!- I thought that if I found you,... you'd help me- They did that to me, too!..."
Ubruptly, her sudden spouting ceased into a blubber, and the girl crumpled into a heap of imbalancable teen hormones, and choppy weeping. Slade stood still from his tree, his head still cocked to the side in contemplative silence. And then, "Dear child, I have no idea what you mean by 'they'." There was sound of slight movement, and a steel-capped boot took a step towards the cloaked huddle. The girl looked up from her sodden hands, brushing off some dried leaves from her lap.
"The military," she said.
That perked Slade's interest quite a bit up. "The military? I can't believe they used another soul for their 'tests'." He nonchalantly took another half-stride, just another walk-in-the-park for the supervillian. "So, child, tell me again why you were searching for me."
She looked at her fingers, glimpsing a graze of crimson static bounding across her palm. That, too, caught Slade's eye. "They gave me powers- I didn't want them, but they did.-The military, I mean." Another red sliver of lightning jumped around her wrists before fading out into nothingness. She, or rather, her little 'power', had his full attention.
"Powers, child, are given to anyone who needs them, whether they like it, or not." The girl looked upwards, and for a moment, it looked as if the man was lost in a second of nostalgia. When Slade finally cast his unblinking gaze down at her, his eye was ablaze with an invisible inferno.
':,.':,.':,.':,.
It was morning. The night from before had dragged on with encrazed monotony, leaving little for anything but dull nightmares and irritable turning. But when she finally awoke, she found herself piled under a jumble of soft sheets, her head stuffed into a mess of cushions. It's dark, she thought to herself as she pulled away from the pillows. Even the room she was occupying was coated in inky black; no windows, no lights. Soon enough, she discovered her padded sneakers at the foot of the bed, and hastily tied them on while she blindly jumped around, trying to see into the impenetrable darkness. After checking her light-up watch (which read 6:15,), her forehead banged against a sheeted metal surface- A door? It slid out of her way with a quiet whirr, and a new landscape opened up before her. She blinked her eyes.
Rock. That was the first thing. Rock. And then, the ground was... more rock. But, black rock: slates of natural obsidian cleverly carved to substitute as flooring. The ceiling... It looked as if it never ended, conceiled within layers of more blackness than she had thought possible. More doors ran across the corridor in an easy pattern, all of them made of the same material of smoothed metal-n-tin silver. There were... little squares and symmetrical shapes dotting the high walls here and there, letting loose patches of dawnlight. Still was she garbed in her usual clothes- A nicely black shirt along with dark jeans scraped into a faded gray at the knees. Looking at herself in a check to see that everything was there- No missing fingers, or limbs, for that matter- The poor girl had been through quite a lot. A small graze where she had recieved the blow from that stupid robot from yesterday.
Yesterday! She had almost forgotton about the ordeal! Suddenly feeling panicked beyond reason, lost in these cursed hallways of stone, she scrambled for footholds and took off. Rose didn't even realize that her cloak was missing. Not now, anyways. Footsteps thudded across the stonework. "Hello?..." the girl called out to no one in particular, and her question bounced back at her from the cavern walls- A devilish mockery. 'Hello?, ello?..., lo...' The echoes replied. The girl stared upwards before turning to run the other way. "Uh..- Slade? That is your name, isn't it? Or, at least, what people call you?... Slade?..." Yes, now she was thoroughly driven in the depths of nervous havoc, her feet continuing to unconsciously sprint around in circles, it seemed. And then, a sort of 'boof!' sound. She suddenly bumped against a rather hard surface, maybe it was another one of those metal doors?
Not quite, as it turned out. Indeed it was metal- The iron-coloured plate shone brightly in a waxed sheen, reflecting her own expression of gilded surprise, and momentarily wide eyes. But... not so much a door. Rather, it was Slade, standing stock still in a soldier's proud position, his arms angled and locked behind his back, legs straight and still as an artist could get. She had apparently rammed into his right shoulder, and stumbled back after the hypothesis appeared in her mind. "Uh- Slade." She cursed herself to oblivion. Was she any good for anything besides repeating his stupid name? "Slade-" she said one more time, just to steady out, "What happened? Where?-I don't, I mean, I..." Pausing, she looked up and immediately shriveled under his intent stare.
"First of all, I'd rather you speak properly enough so that I can understand you. Second, if you're going to ask a question, ask it one question at a time." The last few syllables were carried out with a little stress upon them- not that all of his words weren't strong enough anyways. He continued to look down at her, with what- contempt? Oblivious hatred? Whatever the emotion sizzling in his mind was, it meant all but naught for her.
Slade serenely added, "... And, I didn't happen to get your name from the day before."
"-Rose. My name's Rose, you know, like the plant? I have a last name, too, but it doesn't mean anything since my... biological parents, eh... " (here an uncomforting and foggy silence blew past,) "And, well, the military only called me '#22' all the time; I guess they meant I was the 22nd... uhm... experiment.."
The other seemed to ignore everything else she said, with the exception of the portion about her name. "Rose. What a pleasant name," Even though he said it with a light tone, it was like Slade was taking apart the word, delving into its very bloodstream to tear away any strength he could find. And worst of all, Rose could actually picture the action in her head, and since this was a guy that was supposed to be helping her, she didn't presume her little vision would mean anything good. She gulped.
"Thanks," I think, she completed in her head. He didn't reply and swiftly turned around to walk away, but before he made the second step- "Slade!- Wait-" And then, he twisted his upper torso as quick back towards her as he had otherwise to find a small palm heading for his head at high speed. Rose's hand met the target, and five lithe fingers clasped around his forehead area.
Her hand, her arm... stretching across the directed width to clutch at his mask. It pressed against his fore with a slight inclination of his head, Rose's hand still grappled tightly onto his upper head (It was too small to fully wrap itself around his entire skull.). Slade's eye glanced down, and he would've stubbornly said something along the lines of what-the-hell-are-you-doing, but didn't get the chance to do so, as he clearly saw her eyes flash a brilliant red, shockingly (no pun intended,) scarlet sparks siphoning up and down her thrown arm. Those said scarlet sparks fizzed out onto Slade's mask, and he felt his own vision suddenly cloud with a mist of pulsing crimson. The following happened in a matter of seconds.
Rose dove right in. The odd memories swirled around her like an ocean current, a few eager to be shown, the multitudes of the rest untouchable. She lurked around and slipped by a rather large chunk of memoirs, and felt a strange spark winding across her hands. It was a crackling energy line consisting of a very intriguing-looking memory... She felt the twinges of pain, fury, betrayal, and yet... she felt peace. Rose hesitated, but then shoved a palm into it.
Wow..., she mouthed. Reliving this particularily corrupted piece of remembrance was amazing. There was a demon of acropoliptic proportions, sitting amidst a smoldering tower. The 'teen titans' Rose had often heard about were giving out a furious battle. The world was aflame, hope was drenched with the deceased souls of billions- the End of the World that never happened. She waded across some more, and saw a depiction of Slade battling against a behemoth, the events rolling across her like some multi-max video clip. Volcanic lava spewed from crumbling gorges, flaming swords and weaponry beating back the remaining defenses of the titan team, and Slade himself. She looked around, stunned.
She saw Slade.
His death. His rebirth. His defeat, his victory. It echoed the cycle the entire earth revolved through.
She saw his life. Or this heavy portion of it, at the very least.
But before she could scratch into the frighteningly mystical memories even more, a silky voice rang about. 'Rose, what are you doing?' The way towards the other's mind ubruptly closed, shutting with a final sound of a groan. The girl stood still in a mass of empty darkness. Not quite empty enough. 'Dear child, if you were curious, you should have simply asked.'
I know you wouldn't have had told me anything true if I did that. Leave it to you super-villians to be stupid like that.
'True. The first part, anyways.' The voice seemed to ponder about something, and then dryly ended in, 'I don't take too kindly to anyone who decides they need to intrude into my mind."
There was an obvious threat there, and Rose quickly withdrew. The red light faded from both of their eyes as her arm eased down to her side, hanging there until it raised back up to brush bothering hair strands from her face.
Slade glanced at her. "Interesting."
