Blackened Sunrise: An American Weapon
Spin-off of The Itch's Blackened Sunrise
http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1020928
Please go read!
Chapter 2/?
Something was changing, the sense of something in the distance that she had ignored was shifting, coming closer. The Power shifted, testing the approacher as Rosanna's eyes turned in the direction of the creature.
//Relax, hun,// the Power whispered. // It's just a human. you could kill him if you wanted to, easy. But I think you'd enjoy playing with this one first.//
"Mmm, you're right," she said slowly, stretching her wings as she gathered the information the Power provided her. The approacher was male, approximately thirty years old, drunk, wore dark colored clothes, and had mid-brown hair and blue eyes. No weapons except the bottle of rum he carried.
Requesting the knowledge of the Power that hummed through her senses, she fed power into her aura so that it was visible as a glowing silver that outlined her almost like holy light. If she worked this right, she could get some followers fairly swiftly, as long as she avoided Seers and Clairvoyants.
The man stumbled into the clearing, bottle tipped to his lips, eyes closed as he tripped forward, spilling a good three ounces of the rum onto his all ready soaked shirt. When he lowered the bottle, he reached for the nearest tree (which was actually out of reach) and shuffled sideways until he was leaning against it, blue eyes staring at the sight before him.
A whispered 'oh god' gave her a clue as to his religion and she smiled slowly at him, half-spreading her wings.
{Mortal,} she said in a sub-vocal voice that carried across the clearing though she need not move her lips. {I have been sent to lead you.}
The man looked at his bottle of rum, then up at the angel before him, before shakily leaning over and setting the bottle down.
"Tell me what to do," he said without a trace of slur. Perhaps she had scared him into sobriety. The thought amused her as well as the Power, which chuckled in her mind.
{Take me to a House of the Lord,} was her response.
He nodded slowly and turned back towards the way he had come, not noticing that a bundle of items floated in the air behind the angelic creature he had found.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rosanna slowly surveyed the inside of the church he had brought her to. Surprisingly, she remembered this place. The one time she had come here before, she had felt the oddest sense of remembrance. Now it all made sense. This was where she would gain her following. She would train her minions here.
The center of the church was a vast, open area now that she had done away with the pews. At the front of the church was a baptismal fount and along the walls were stained glass windows that had once held brilliant red roses amidst fields of blue glass. Now the roses were black and white while the fields were blood red. The effect on the inside of the church was amazingly morbid. She liked it.
She turned slowly towards where her first follower knelt. {You have done well. This will be the center of the Balance. What is your name?}
His form trembled and he did not look up as he whispered his name, "Jonathan Steel."
She reached out one delicate hand, part of her mind absently jumping for joy now that her body was so graceful, and touched the top of his head with the tips of her fingers. In a flash of Power, his hair bleached of all color, turning a brilliant white before streaks of midnight black bled through.
When she lifted her hand, his hair looked steel-gray from a distance, but upon close inspection it was easy to see the individual twin colors of his hair.
{Stand, Steel, and seek your bed for this night. There is no need of you until I call you, and you will hear me no matter where you are.}
Jon nodded slowly and stood, almost in a trance, and turned towards the large double doors to make his exit.
Rosanna turned again, surveying the inside of her new home. Now, where to sleep?
//I hate to say something so silly, but why not sleep standing up, on the pedestal in the front of the church?//
"Mmm, a good idea. The new statue, and the cries of shock in the morning will wake me," Rosanna murmured aloud as she moved towards the spot where the life-sized crucifix had once stood. "Is there anything I can call you? I feel silly not having a name for you."
//Call me whatever you want to call me, hun,// the Power whispered. //Just don't make it stupid and make sure you like it before you decide on it.//
"Fine, fine... good night," she whispered softly as she took a standing position, spreading her wings wide as she faced the entrance of the once- church. A touch of Power held the wings up effortlessly, as well as holding her arms out as if welcoming those who would see her to find comfort in her arms. She closed her eyes and settled herself into sleep. The morning would bring several confused priests.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Here's another chapter! Woot! Hope you all like. If you like, review! Please?
The Itch: I'm ever so glad you enjoy this. I hope you liked this chapter too! And if you want, I wouldn't mind them coming to find me... er... um... her! Her! *glances around suspiciously*
A/N2: I'm slightly frustrated.... I want to give her the Tomahawk (that is the God of Motorcycles if you didn't know!) but it's a new thing! Just came out! and the poor plot line of the original HP story wouldn't support the use of that lovely (0-60 in 2.5 seconds, estimated max speed of over 300 mph and rumored to be closer to 400) Muggle devise. Oh the agonies... I may just give her a prototype somehow!
Spin-off of The Itch's Blackened Sunrise
http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1020928
Please go read!
Chapter 2/?
Something was changing, the sense of something in the distance that she had ignored was shifting, coming closer. The Power shifted, testing the approacher as Rosanna's eyes turned in the direction of the creature.
//Relax, hun,// the Power whispered. // It's just a human. you could kill him if you wanted to, easy. But I think you'd enjoy playing with this one first.//
"Mmm, you're right," she said slowly, stretching her wings as she gathered the information the Power provided her. The approacher was male, approximately thirty years old, drunk, wore dark colored clothes, and had mid-brown hair and blue eyes. No weapons except the bottle of rum he carried.
Requesting the knowledge of the Power that hummed through her senses, she fed power into her aura so that it was visible as a glowing silver that outlined her almost like holy light. If she worked this right, she could get some followers fairly swiftly, as long as she avoided Seers and Clairvoyants.
The man stumbled into the clearing, bottle tipped to his lips, eyes closed as he tripped forward, spilling a good three ounces of the rum onto his all ready soaked shirt. When he lowered the bottle, he reached for the nearest tree (which was actually out of reach) and shuffled sideways until he was leaning against it, blue eyes staring at the sight before him.
A whispered 'oh god' gave her a clue as to his religion and she smiled slowly at him, half-spreading her wings.
{Mortal,} she said in a sub-vocal voice that carried across the clearing though she need not move her lips. {I have been sent to lead you.}
The man looked at his bottle of rum, then up at the angel before him, before shakily leaning over and setting the bottle down.
"Tell me what to do," he said without a trace of slur. Perhaps she had scared him into sobriety. The thought amused her as well as the Power, which chuckled in her mind.
{Take me to a House of the Lord,} was her response.
He nodded slowly and turned back towards the way he had come, not noticing that a bundle of items floated in the air behind the angelic creature he had found.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rosanna slowly surveyed the inside of the church he had brought her to. Surprisingly, she remembered this place. The one time she had come here before, she had felt the oddest sense of remembrance. Now it all made sense. This was where she would gain her following. She would train her minions here.
The center of the church was a vast, open area now that she had done away with the pews. At the front of the church was a baptismal fount and along the walls were stained glass windows that had once held brilliant red roses amidst fields of blue glass. Now the roses were black and white while the fields were blood red. The effect on the inside of the church was amazingly morbid. She liked it.
She turned slowly towards where her first follower knelt. {You have done well. This will be the center of the Balance. What is your name?}
His form trembled and he did not look up as he whispered his name, "Jonathan Steel."
She reached out one delicate hand, part of her mind absently jumping for joy now that her body was so graceful, and touched the top of his head with the tips of her fingers. In a flash of Power, his hair bleached of all color, turning a brilliant white before streaks of midnight black bled through.
When she lifted her hand, his hair looked steel-gray from a distance, but upon close inspection it was easy to see the individual twin colors of his hair.
{Stand, Steel, and seek your bed for this night. There is no need of you until I call you, and you will hear me no matter where you are.}
Jon nodded slowly and stood, almost in a trance, and turned towards the large double doors to make his exit.
Rosanna turned again, surveying the inside of her new home. Now, where to sleep?
//I hate to say something so silly, but why not sleep standing up, on the pedestal in the front of the church?//
"Mmm, a good idea. The new statue, and the cries of shock in the morning will wake me," Rosanna murmured aloud as she moved towards the spot where the life-sized crucifix had once stood. "Is there anything I can call you? I feel silly not having a name for you."
//Call me whatever you want to call me, hun,// the Power whispered. //Just don't make it stupid and make sure you like it before you decide on it.//
"Fine, fine... good night," she whispered softly as she took a standing position, spreading her wings wide as she faced the entrance of the once- church. A touch of Power held the wings up effortlessly, as well as holding her arms out as if welcoming those who would see her to find comfort in her arms. She closed her eyes and settled herself into sleep. The morning would bring several confused priests.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Here's another chapter! Woot! Hope you all like. If you like, review! Please?
The Itch: I'm ever so glad you enjoy this. I hope you liked this chapter too! And if you want, I wouldn't mind them coming to find me... er... um... her! Her! *glances around suspiciously*
A/N2: I'm slightly frustrated.... I want to give her the Tomahawk (that is the God of Motorcycles if you didn't know!) but it's a new thing! Just came out! and the poor plot line of the original HP story wouldn't support the use of that lovely (0-60 in 2.5 seconds, estimated max speed of over 300 mph and rumored to be closer to 400) Muggle devise. Oh the agonies... I may just give her a prototype somehow!