~Shadow~Singer~
By Alexia Goddess
Chapter Two
"You say she just...vanished?" Max kept her voice low, just to be on
the safe side, despite the incredibly high volume of the clamor of the
school hallways.
"Not 'vanished,'" Terry, at his side, kept his voice equally quiet.
"From what I could see, it was if she...dissolved as soon as she was
out of my arms."
"What do you mean 'dissolved?'" Max prodded. Terry frowned as he
searched for the right words.
"At first it was like she had become...smoke. Black smoke. But when
Bruce and I replayed the image at slow, it was too...solid. Not whispy
and loose enough. More like...more like a..."
"A shadow?" Max supplied, almost half jokingly. To her surprise. Terry
nodded.
"Exactly." He said. "Like a shadow with a mind of its own..." He shook
his head. "And just before she did that, she whispered something in my
ear."
"What did she tell you?" Max stopped as she reached her locker, as did
Terry, whose was right beside hers.
"I don't know. It was some form of old japanese, I think."
"Well, I'm at the top of my class in ancient dialects." Max remined him
suggestively. "Do you remember it?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"Well?"
Glancing around cautiously, Terry leaned closer and whispered the words
as carefully as he could.
"She said 'Tadaima sueni, goshujin shozoku kojinteki taikyokuken
onteki. Aima Kumori, Kumori Shinga.'" He stood up straight again, and
Max frowned.
"Bruce didn't tell you what it meant?" She asked. Terry shook his head.
"No, he said he wanted to do some more research first, and I haven't
had time to figure it out myself. What about you? Do you know?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, sure, piece of cake," Max closed her locker and leaned
against it. "It means, 'Here I-'" Max hushed suddenly, and Terry looked
to his left -Max was on his left- to see why, and saw a familiar form
appeared beside him.
"Hey, Cynthia!" Terry greeted the raven-haired girl. She smiled at him,
then looked to Max.
"Hey, Max-chan! Konnichi wa!" Cynthia greeted her warmly. Max returned
the smile.
"Hiya!" Max replied. "I didn't know you knew Japanese." Terry's ears
perked, and he caught the swift, meaningful look Max threw him.
"Oh, I not, not really. My mother lived there for about five years,
though, so I know a bit from her." Cynthia retrieved her books, locked
her locker, but made no move to leave. "I heard you knew it, so I
decided to say some, just for the fun of it. Thought it could be
something we could get into together. I'm really into old languages."
"So whats that 'chan' mean?" Terry inquired of Cynthia. "'Konnichi wa'
is 'good afternoon, right?'"
"Right,!" Cynthia looked embarrassed about not thinking that Terry
might not understand it. "Its a Japanese suffix that goes on the end of
the name of a person you are a) romantically involved with, b) someone
you are affectionate of, or the most common one, c) someone you are
friends with."
"Aaaah...so am I a 'chan,' too?" Cynthia giggled girlishly at the
question. Terry's eyes widened slightly at the sound...
"Of course!" She replied, not noticing the older boy's reaction. "If
you want to be, that is."
"Sounds good to me," He told her. The bell rang, and the threesome
dispersed, Max and Cynthia arm in arm and heading for History, chatting
lightly. Terry narrowed his eyes after them, his gaze fixated on the
back of Cynthia's head as one particular thought concerning her swirled
around in his mind and refused to dissipate.
"Get a grip, McGinnis," He grumbled at himself, and turned to head for
Science. Still, he couldn't help but throw one last glance over his
shoulder.
It just wasn't possible...
(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)
"You're late again, Cynthia," A voice carefully held in check greeted
the black haired young woman as she stepped into the living room of her
family's massive mansion. She wrapped a strand of hair around her
finger delicately, something she had done since she was little when she
was nervous.
"Max and I just went for lunch, daddy," She said innocently. "She
wanted to tell me where some good arcades were, and to tell me which
parts of town I should avoid."
"Max?" A feminine voice inquired. Cynthia winced. Enter evil stepmother
incarnate. A slight, petite woman in her mid thirties stepped into the
room, frowning. She went to the man sitting in an arm chair and stood
beside him.
"Are you seeing some boy without telling us?" She demanded. Cynthia
suppressed the urge to wince again. Damn her. She always groped for
every possible opportunity to get her in trouble with her father.
"No!" Cynthia protested. She looked at her father imploringly. "Daddy,
Max is a girl! Short for Maxine! She's my friend!"
"Making connections already?" Cynthia blushed at the sudden approval
and pride in her father's voice. But just when she was about to breathe
a sigh of relief...
"So who is her father? Anyone we can use?" He asked. Cynthia groaned.
"No, daddy," She said. "I don't know who her father is. I don't even
know her last name. Didn't you hear me? She's my *friend.*"
"You mean you're associating with someone who could be...be...trailor
trash for all we know?" The stepmother (Cynthia was relishing the act
of imagining horns and a beard on the woman) snapped.
"You're mother is right, dear." Her father frowned at her. "You can't
be with just anyone. Get her last name and I will check up on her
record, and let you know if I say you can continue to see her."
Cynthia gaped, her eyes wide, drawing in air in shallow, quick breaths,
desperately trying to reign in her temper. No such luck.
"First off...*father,*" She snarled viciously. Her father jumped
slightly at her tone, and her stepmother jerked, eyes wide. Later
Cynthia herself would be afraid of how she had sounded. It hadn't been
her voice...But for now, she was just plain mad.
"First off," She continued. She raised a trembling hand to point at her
stepmother. "That...that...that *witch* is not my mother, and never
will be! Anymore that you love me like a father should! Second, don't
you *dare* to presume to tell me who and who I can and cannot associate
with just because you suddenly think you own everything there is!"
"Cynthia Diana!" Her father boomed, rising from his seat, a temple in
his vein pulsing with anger. "You disrespectful-"
"Don't you preach to me about disrespect!" Cynthia clenched her fists.
"What I do and say now is nothing compared to the shame and
*disrespect* you've inflicted on my good mother's name and memory by
marrying that gold-digging slut!"
"Why you little-" The stepmother strode forward and raised her fist
to strike her stepdaughter. Cynthia, feeling as though she was not
moving not of her own accord, ducked, grabbed the woman's wrist, and
twisted viciously. The older woman cried out and fell away, clutching
her broken wrist. Cynthia's father made a move, but before he could
take more than a few steps forward, Cynthia had turned and bolted out
of the room, down the hall, past the butler and out the door. She kept
running, and didn't stop, and soon she was out of sight in the twilight
evening, darkness rapidly approaching.
(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)
Terry rubbed the bridge of his nose, thinking longingly of his nice,
soft, warm bed in his room, just a little furthur down the hall...
He pushed open the door to his room, shrugged off his jacket, lazily
kicked off his shoes, and fell face first into the bed, ready to say
goodbye to reality and hello to dreamland...
No such luck.
Terry pried his eyes open as a familiar, insistent beeping sounded
from his laptop. He groaned and dragged himself up out of the bed,
and slouched into his seat at his desk and hit the button that would
shut off the alert siren and open his e-mail file.
There, at the top, marked 'important' in bold red letters was an e-mail
from 'Bats_Max_86.' Terry remembered glaring her to pieces -or having
tried to- when he had found out about Max taking that e-mail address.
Fully awake now with his interest perked, he opened the e-mail, and
skimed the letter.
"Ter," The e-mail read. "Like I said, I already knew what that mumbo
jumbo that shadow girl said to you, but I did some research and I
think we should meet. There's more to this self proclaimed 'Batman's
greatest enemy' than we think. Here's the dialog and the translation:
'Tadaima sueni, goshujin shozoku kojinteki taikyokuken onteki. Aima
Kumori, Kumori Shinga.' That means:
'Here I am at last, your own personal grand ultimate enemy. I am
Shadow, Shadow Singer.'"
Terry narrowed his eyes, finished reading the last two sentences after
that, then closed the e-mail.
So... The little black siren had a name.
The Shadow Singer.
"What are you up to?" Terry murmured, looking out the window at the
night sky.
"Shadow...Shadow Singer..."
(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)
The girl in the shadows smiled. So... her dashing dark knight had
figured it out. She hadn't counted on him having a friend fluent in her
native tongue. She had hoped it would take him longer to figure out her
little word puzzle, but no matter. It had sent shivers up her spine to
hear him say her name, even if it wasn't her real name.
Smiling mischieviously, she let her form begin to merge into the
shadows once more, off to take her next move in this game of chess.
Only this time, there were no white pieces. Just black...and blacker.
Question was, who would be the blackest? The champion of the dark? Or
the sorceress of the shadows?
Smiling her dark, almost innocent smile, she whispered the words that
set the greatest match of wits and mind games in action.
"Let the games begin."
To Be Continued...
You like? I'm having lots of fun with this. =) I hope you enjoyed! Let
me know if you think I'm making Shadow too...obsessive, or what. Is it
*too* dark? I'm reeeeeally trying to capture the essence of Batman
Beyond...ugh, its so hard to do! PLEASE reivew and tell me if I'm doing
it right, PLEASE!!!!!!!
*sigh* Well, until next time! Ja ne!
-Alexia Goddess
*ALL STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY*
By Alexia Goddess
Chapter Two
"You say she just...vanished?" Max kept her voice low, just to be on
the safe side, despite the incredibly high volume of the clamor of the
school hallways.
"Not 'vanished,'" Terry, at his side, kept his voice equally quiet.
"From what I could see, it was if she...dissolved as soon as she was
out of my arms."
"What do you mean 'dissolved?'" Max prodded. Terry frowned as he
searched for the right words.
"At first it was like she had become...smoke. Black smoke. But when
Bruce and I replayed the image at slow, it was too...solid. Not whispy
and loose enough. More like...more like a..."
"A shadow?" Max supplied, almost half jokingly. To her surprise. Terry
nodded.
"Exactly." He said. "Like a shadow with a mind of its own..." He shook
his head. "And just before she did that, she whispered something in my
ear."
"What did she tell you?" Max stopped as she reached her locker, as did
Terry, whose was right beside hers.
"I don't know. It was some form of old japanese, I think."
"Well, I'm at the top of my class in ancient dialects." Max remined him
suggestively. "Do you remember it?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"Well?"
Glancing around cautiously, Terry leaned closer and whispered the words
as carefully as he could.
"She said 'Tadaima sueni, goshujin shozoku kojinteki taikyokuken
onteki. Aima Kumori, Kumori Shinga.'" He stood up straight again, and
Max frowned.
"Bruce didn't tell you what it meant?" She asked. Terry shook his head.
"No, he said he wanted to do some more research first, and I haven't
had time to figure it out myself. What about you? Do you know?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, sure, piece of cake," Max closed her locker and leaned
against it. "It means, 'Here I-'" Max hushed suddenly, and Terry looked
to his left -Max was on his left- to see why, and saw a familiar form
appeared beside him.
"Hey, Cynthia!" Terry greeted the raven-haired girl. She smiled at him,
then looked to Max.
"Hey, Max-chan! Konnichi wa!" Cynthia greeted her warmly. Max returned
the smile.
"Hiya!" Max replied. "I didn't know you knew Japanese." Terry's ears
perked, and he caught the swift, meaningful look Max threw him.
"Oh, I not, not really. My mother lived there for about five years,
though, so I know a bit from her." Cynthia retrieved her books, locked
her locker, but made no move to leave. "I heard you knew it, so I
decided to say some, just for the fun of it. Thought it could be
something we could get into together. I'm really into old languages."
"So whats that 'chan' mean?" Terry inquired of Cynthia. "'Konnichi wa'
is 'good afternoon, right?'"
"Right,!" Cynthia looked embarrassed about not thinking that Terry
might not understand it. "Its a Japanese suffix that goes on the end of
the name of a person you are a) romantically involved with, b) someone
you are affectionate of, or the most common one, c) someone you are
friends with."
"Aaaah...so am I a 'chan,' too?" Cynthia giggled girlishly at the
question. Terry's eyes widened slightly at the sound...
"Of course!" She replied, not noticing the older boy's reaction. "If
you want to be, that is."
"Sounds good to me," He told her. The bell rang, and the threesome
dispersed, Max and Cynthia arm in arm and heading for History, chatting
lightly. Terry narrowed his eyes after them, his gaze fixated on the
back of Cynthia's head as one particular thought concerning her swirled
around in his mind and refused to dissipate.
"Get a grip, McGinnis," He grumbled at himself, and turned to head for
Science. Still, he couldn't help but throw one last glance over his
shoulder.
It just wasn't possible...
(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)
"You're late again, Cynthia," A voice carefully held in check greeted
the black haired young woman as she stepped into the living room of her
family's massive mansion. She wrapped a strand of hair around her
finger delicately, something she had done since she was little when she
was nervous.
"Max and I just went for lunch, daddy," She said innocently. "She
wanted to tell me where some good arcades were, and to tell me which
parts of town I should avoid."
"Max?" A feminine voice inquired. Cynthia winced. Enter evil stepmother
incarnate. A slight, petite woman in her mid thirties stepped into the
room, frowning. She went to the man sitting in an arm chair and stood
beside him.
"Are you seeing some boy without telling us?" She demanded. Cynthia
suppressed the urge to wince again. Damn her. She always groped for
every possible opportunity to get her in trouble with her father.
"No!" Cynthia protested. She looked at her father imploringly. "Daddy,
Max is a girl! Short for Maxine! She's my friend!"
"Making connections already?" Cynthia blushed at the sudden approval
and pride in her father's voice. But just when she was about to breathe
a sigh of relief...
"So who is her father? Anyone we can use?" He asked. Cynthia groaned.
"No, daddy," She said. "I don't know who her father is. I don't even
know her last name. Didn't you hear me? She's my *friend.*"
"You mean you're associating with someone who could be...be...trailor
trash for all we know?" The stepmother (Cynthia was relishing the act
of imagining horns and a beard on the woman) snapped.
"You're mother is right, dear." Her father frowned at her. "You can't
be with just anyone. Get her last name and I will check up on her
record, and let you know if I say you can continue to see her."
Cynthia gaped, her eyes wide, drawing in air in shallow, quick breaths,
desperately trying to reign in her temper. No such luck.
"First off...*father,*" She snarled viciously. Her father jumped
slightly at her tone, and her stepmother jerked, eyes wide. Later
Cynthia herself would be afraid of how she had sounded. It hadn't been
her voice...But for now, she was just plain mad.
"First off," She continued. She raised a trembling hand to point at her
stepmother. "That...that...that *witch* is not my mother, and never
will be! Anymore that you love me like a father should! Second, don't
you *dare* to presume to tell me who and who I can and cannot associate
with just because you suddenly think you own everything there is!"
"Cynthia Diana!" Her father boomed, rising from his seat, a temple in
his vein pulsing with anger. "You disrespectful-"
"Don't you preach to me about disrespect!" Cynthia clenched her fists.
"What I do and say now is nothing compared to the shame and
*disrespect* you've inflicted on my good mother's name and memory by
marrying that gold-digging slut!"
"Why you little-" The stepmother strode forward and raised her fist
to strike her stepdaughter. Cynthia, feeling as though she was not
moving not of her own accord, ducked, grabbed the woman's wrist, and
twisted viciously. The older woman cried out and fell away, clutching
her broken wrist. Cynthia's father made a move, but before he could
take more than a few steps forward, Cynthia had turned and bolted out
of the room, down the hall, past the butler and out the door. She kept
running, and didn't stop, and soon she was out of sight in the twilight
evening, darkness rapidly approaching.
(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)
Terry rubbed the bridge of his nose, thinking longingly of his nice,
soft, warm bed in his room, just a little furthur down the hall...
He pushed open the door to his room, shrugged off his jacket, lazily
kicked off his shoes, and fell face first into the bed, ready to say
goodbye to reality and hello to dreamland...
No such luck.
Terry pried his eyes open as a familiar, insistent beeping sounded
from his laptop. He groaned and dragged himself up out of the bed,
and slouched into his seat at his desk and hit the button that would
shut off the alert siren and open his e-mail file.
There, at the top, marked 'important' in bold red letters was an e-mail
from 'Bats_Max_86.' Terry remembered glaring her to pieces -or having
tried to- when he had found out about Max taking that e-mail address.
Fully awake now with his interest perked, he opened the e-mail, and
skimed the letter.
"Ter," The e-mail read. "Like I said, I already knew what that mumbo
jumbo that shadow girl said to you, but I did some research and I
think we should meet. There's more to this self proclaimed 'Batman's
greatest enemy' than we think. Here's the dialog and the translation:
'Tadaima sueni, goshujin shozoku kojinteki taikyokuken onteki. Aima
Kumori, Kumori Shinga.' That means:
'Here I am at last, your own personal grand ultimate enemy. I am
Shadow, Shadow Singer.'"
Terry narrowed his eyes, finished reading the last two sentences after
that, then closed the e-mail.
So... The little black siren had a name.
The Shadow Singer.
"What are you up to?" Terry murmured, looking out the window at the
night sky.
"Shadow...Shadow Singer..."
(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)
The girl in the shadows smiled. So... her dashing dark knight had
figured it out. She hadn't counted on him having a friend fluent in her
native tongue. She had hoped it would take him longer to figure out her
little word puzzle, but no matter. It had sent shivers up her spine to
hear him say her name, even if it wasn't her real name.
Smiling mischieviously, she let her form begin to merge into the
shadows once more, off to take her next move in this game of chess.
Only this time, there were no white pieces. Just black...and blacker.
Question was, who would be the blackest? The champion of the dark? Or
the sorceress of the shadows?
Smiling her dark, almost innocent smile, she whispered the words that
set the greatest match of wits and mind games in action.
"Let the games begin."
To Be Continued...
You like? I'm having lots of fun with this. =) I hope you enjoyed! Let
me know if you think I'm making Shadow too...obsessive, or what. Is it
*too* dark? I'm reeeeeally trying to capture the essence of Batman
Beyond...ugh, its so hard to do! PLEASE reivew and tell me if I'm doing
it right, PLEASE!!!!!!!
*sigh* Well, until next time! Ja ne!
-Alexia Goddess
*ALL STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY*