First off, shout-out to my first follower ever: Dolphinsong15 - Thank you so much, you made my day. BTW, dolphins are some of my favorite animals, and the number 15 is my favorite number.
Also, sorry that this update is a little later than I meant it to be. I caught a case of writer's block last weekend, and an even worse case of the flu at the same time. In the future, I'm going to try to be as consistent as possible with my updates. Said updates will probably come once a week.
Finally, if anyone has any questions about my OC feel free to ask in the comments section.
"Ain't too sure what I believe in, but I believe in what I see."
- Aloe Blacc and Owl City; Verge
The slim figure of a teenage girl descended though the fading light and alighted gently on the landing pad outside Stark Tower. She was dressed in a one-piece leotard dress; a red mini skirt, and a grey long-sleeve top. A hood attached to the back of the outfit completely hid her hair and stretched over the top part of her face as a sort of domino mask. Boots the same color as the skirt reached above her knees. The entire ensemble - while modest and sturdy - was a bit too thin for late winter in New York City, however the intense energy that burned pleasantly beneath her skin kept the worst of cold at bay.
A blue-eyed white rat crawled out of a pocket on her skirt and settled on her shoulder; the girl took a moment to orient herself before straitening her shoulders and sauntering into the tower. From the way she carried herself, one might have thought she owned the whole building. She didn't, but she was a friend of Mr. Stark. As soon as she crossed over the threshold, his User Interface greeted her.
"Good Evening, Sting."
"JARVIS, my man! How goes it?"
"Very well, thank you. How are things with you?"
"Groovy as always. Is Mr. Stark in?"
"Unfortunately, he left for his home is Malibu about three hours ago."
"Darn."
"What brings you to New York?"
"Well, actually I heard on the news that that the Mindless Ones were rampaging in Times Square, so I thought I'd come do something about it. Only when I got here there was no sign of them, except for some busted Jumbotrons. Did Mr. Stark do anything?"
"No, he did not." A holographic video of a news report appeared. "There was a report of hostile creatures attacking the city tonight. Unfortunately, it seems the news crew had to flee before anything else could develop. But, perhaps Dr. Richards knows what happened."
"Yeah, great idea!" Sting turned to the white rat draped across her shoulder. "Baba, if I forget, remind me to drop by Dr. Richard's Lab tonight." Baba nodded, but as they both had short attention spans it was unlikely that either one would remember at any sort of a convenient time. "Thanks, JARVIS!" She called as she turned towards the exit.
"My pleasure, as always."
"See you around!"
Sting walked back outside, then sprinted to the edge of the landing pad and threw herself off. Her energy lifted her up and prevented her from falling, but instead of willing it to boost her high in the sky, she simply used just enough to "jump" to the nearest rooftop. Once there she sprinted to the other side and "jumped" again. It felt amazing to use her legs again after flying all the way from California. Again, and again she hurdled and flipped from rooftop to rooftop, singing Verge by Owl City as she did so.
"Out on the verge of the rest of our lives tonight
Top of the world and we're dressed to the nines tonight
Edge of the earth and we're touching the sky tonight
Out on the verge of the rest of our lives."
By this time, she'd reached the edge of a building overlooking Times Square where cleanup crews were already hard at work. The damage reminded her of why she had come there in the first place.
"Where did they go?" She wondered out loud. She was about to go drop by Dr. Richards lab, when a voice behind her interrupted her thoughts.
"What exactly are you looking for?"
Sting was surprised that someone had been able to sneak up behind her without attracting Baba's attention. But she didn't want to let on that she was at all startled, so, after exchanging a look with her companion, she proceeded to answer the question in a normal voice even though the voice hadn't sounded like it expected a response at all.
"These creatures from another dimension called Mindless Ones. They're like six feet tall, rock hard all the way through, and can release energy through their eyes. I heard they were on the loose, but now I can't seem to find them."
"Wait," said the voice. "Can you hear me?"
That was a strange question for sure, and certainly not the response that Sting had been expecting. She turned around to see who was speaking.
"Uh . . . yeah."
Standing in front of her was a boy about her own age. He was even skinnier than she was (if it were possible) and had pale skin, icy blue eyes and a mop of tousled white hair – hair that was way too natural looking to merely be bleached. He wore a plain blue hoodie, brown pants, and in his hand, he carried a tall staff with a peculiar hook at the end. His feet were bare, and from them a patch of frost was slowly spreading across the rooftop.
"Can you see me?" The boy asked.
"Yeah." Sting took a step forward, stretched her arm out and poked the boy in the shoulder. "And I can feel you too, before you ask. Why wouldn't I be able to see you?"
"Welllll," said the boy a little awkwardly as he scratched the back of his head, "you have to believe in me to see me and people your age usually don't."
"Huh. I believe in a lot of wacky stuff . . . but still . . ." Sting's voice trailed off. She'd already seen so many impossible things in the sixteen years of her life that there were very few things that she flat out didn't believe in. But nevertheless, if she believed in this strange person, she ought to know him. Let's see - white hair, icy blue eyes . . . something to do with ice? Snow? And the patch of frost at his feet. Wow, it was so much prettier than the stuff than occasionally formed on the roof back home- no, no, stay focused. Frost. That was it! Something Frost. J . . . Frost.
"Frost." She said out loud. "Joe. . ." The boy looked surprised at that. Sting went on thinking out loud without noticing his expression. "Jimmy, Jack, John . . . wait . . . Jack!" She looked up.
"You're Jack Frost."
"Yes!" Said Jack, excitedly throwing up his arms in celebration. The frost around his feet spread even faster in response to his movement. "And you are . . ."
"Sting." She motioned to the rodent on her shoulder. "And this is Babaraba."
The frost had almost reached her feet. Afraid that the energy radiating from her body would melt the feathery patterns, Sting lifted off her feet and hovered in place so she could watch it go by underneath her.
"Whoa," said Jack in amazement. "You can fly?"
Sting remembered that just because someone could jump from one rooftop to another, it didn't necessarily mean they could fly – it simply might mean they could glide on air currents, or affect gravity.
"Mmm-hmm! Check this out!" She dropped onto the raised edge of the building and backflipped off. A moment later she popped back up again. "Ta-daaa!"
Jack laughed, jumped off the roof and floated next to her. They bobbed there for a moment, grinning at each other like maniacal Jack-o-lanterns, before Jack noticed something strange. The inner part of Sting's chocolaty irises were turning a rich purple. In fact, the purple was threatening to completely consume the brown. Before he could say anything, he found himself turning to fall beside Sting as they soared through the streets of Manhattan. Faster and faster they went, shooting around corners and over the tops of buildings.
For Jack this was an entirely new sensation, albeit a pleasant one, as he only knew a handful of people who could fly under their own power and none of them ever went flying with him recreationally. For Sting this was pure and simple bliss. Eventually they flew even higher, diving in and out of the clouds and backflipping over the full moon that was already hanging in the sky. After a while, Sting looked down and saw a small town laid out below them. The sight of this town seemed to make Jack even more joyful and he promptly dive-bombed straight down. Sting followed suit, and as the neared the town a group of children playing in the snow became visible. Jack whooped as he fell and pulled up right before he hit the ground. The children all shouted with excitement, and as Jack dropped to his feet they all ran to greet him. Sting cautiously landed a little way behind him so as not to draw attention, but some of the children noticed her anyway.
"Hey Jack, who's that?"
"Everyone, this is Sting."
Jack then introduced the children. The tall girl was Pippa; the larger girl dressed in pink (who looked like she could have a future in being a bouncer) was Cupcake; the African-American boys, Claude and Caleb, were brothers; and the nerdy looking boy with the glasses was Monty. Questions towards Sting came pouring in.
"Are you a superhero?"
"How do you fly? Do you use the wind like Jack?"
"Do you know the Avengers?"
Sting answered the questions as best she could.
"I don't call myself a superhero, but you can if you want to. Uh, it's a bit complicated to explain exactly how I fly; and yes, I know the all Avengers. They're way awesome-er than they seem on TV."
At that moment, a car pulled into the driveway of the house across the street and a family of four got out. While the Mother and Father began to take out suitcases from the back, the children – a young brown haired boy and an even younger blonde haired girl – saw their friends and began to run over to them.
"Kids! Come help unload the car!"
"I will, Mom!" Responded the boy. "I just want to say 'Hi' to everyone."
Both children were swarmed like chunks of bloody meat that have been tossed into piranha infested waters. In turn, when they saw Jack both flung themselves at him as though they were the carnivorous fish and he were the meat.
"Hey!" Laughed Jack, "How was your trip to New York?"
"It was cool!" Said the boy, "Grandma took us to see so many places, like . . ." His voice trailed off as he noticed Sting.
"Hi, uh, I'm Sting and this is Baba."
The boy smiled. "I'm Jamie, and this is my sister Sophie."
"Nice. So, you were saying about your Grandma?"
"Yeah, she lives in New York; we just came back from visiting her over the weekend. And look! She gave me her old camera!"
Jamie produced a large manila envelope, and from it he pulled out an ancient polaroid and about two dozen photos which he proceeded to pass around. Sophie, meanwhile, ran back to across to their parents.
"Saaaaay, these are good." Said Sting in admiration of Jamie's cinematography. "You could grow up to be a photographer . . ."
Her voice trailed off, her face grew serious, and her eyes literally greyed with fear. The picture in her hand showed the gates of a cemetery, and standing just through the wide archway, on a short pedestal like a host for visitors, was the statue of an angel. Its face was buried in its hands as though it were perpetually weeping for the dearly departed. Sting knew what kind of creature it really was and couldn't help but wonder how Jamie and his family could have been that close to it and still be here to show off these pictures. And speaking of pictures, wasn't there some reason why those things shouldn't ever have their pictures taken? Some crazy old guy had said something to her once to that effect, something . . . about images. Now what was it? What . . . was . . . it?
"Uh, Sting?" asked Jack who has noticed her vacant stare. Sting snapped out of her trance and looked up.
"Huh? Oh." The other kids were passing the pictures back to Jamie. Sting glimpsed two other pictures containing more of the statues – one of them showed a church with two angels standing outside like mournful sentries. She had a strong feeling that those pictures were somehow dangerous, that she should steal them and take them where they couldn't do any harm. But she didn't really have any proof. There was no reason she could give to Jamie that would adequately explain why she needed to confiscate his pictures. Besides, what if she was wrong and they were perfectly ordinary? So, it was with great reluctance that she gave up the pictures in her hand. She barely noticed as Jamie briefly ran off to help his family carry suitcases into the house, nor did she put much thought into the Smalltalk that passed though the group while they waited for him to come back.
When Jamie finally returned, Sting pushed the pictures out of her head as a vote was taken on whether the group should go sledding or have a snowball fight. The results were unanimous as with the fading light they kids might not have time to fetch their sleds before they were called inside. Right before the free-for-all started, Jack scooped up a handful of snow and shaped it into a perfect sphere.
"Hey, Sting!" he said with mischievous grin, "How are you at snowball fights?"
Sting knew darn well that as the newbie of the group she would easily be the most popular target. Baba knew it too and she could feel him crawling inside her hood and crouching behind her neck like a man ducking into a bomb shelter. She quickly bundled together her own snowball and flashed an impish smirk of her own.
"Let's find out."
In all the excitement, nobody noticed the shadowy figure slipping through Jamie's bedroom window.
Sorry if this chapter seemed a little slow. Things will definitely start picking up in the next one.
By-the-by, I did not name Sting after the music artist. Actually, it was several years after I dreamed her up that I first learned such an artist existed.
I will include more info about the Mindless Ones in a later chapter.
Thank you for your patience. Ciao!