Disclaimer: C'mon... do you honestly think and owner of GW would be writing on this website?
AN: This is gonna be fun! My first fan-fic! (Oh yeah, if you're a fan of Hilde, don't read this. Why? 'Cuz I HATE Hilde.)
Assassin
Summary: Nobody's perfect. Not even the heartless assassins of the perfect solider project. So, what happens when the beautiful assassin, Mena Anderson, makes a terrible error?
Prologue:
All's fair...
Three children sit on a train, like sardines. They are obviously related because all have eyes the color of sapphires, a goofy smile, long legs, arms and bodies, for each of their ages anyway, and an innocent air. The two eldest have hair the color of sunshine. The youngest however, sticks out prominently because of her hair. It was ridiculously red, like the color of rubies directly in the sun. Her siblings both had silky smooth, straight hair. Her older sister's fell to her waist and her brother's barley went past his shoulders, and was in a ponytail at that particular time. The ruby head, on the other hand, had the most lovely natural ringlets any child could ever have.
So, anyway, there the children were, waiting for their destination when it happened. All the lights went out. "Oh my God!" a male passenger yelled. "It's happening!"
This particular man was the father of the children. "Come quickly," he yelled. "Children, please follow my voi-!"
The sudden sound of gas being released scared the passengers into chaos. Screams filled the car, shortly followed by unconscious bodies falling to the floor. "Papa!" the eldest of the three children cried. He was the last to black out.
The boy was the last to wake. He was suffering from what seemed to be the worst migraine in his entire life, that life being 12.3 years long. His sisters, 9.5 years and 5.2 years, didn't seem to be in a better condition. "Here... Here is where?" he asked.
His sisters, desperately trying to remember the words he was using struggled with their words. Their birth language was French, not this English. "Ici...? Je... I do not know..." the blonde sister replied. When she spoke English, she could hide her accent very well.
The boy got up. "A room," he moved close to the wall and touched it, "with walls made of some metal... Like a... a... cell."
"Oui," the youngest spoke. "We ver brought here by a tall, thin homme... uhh... man, I mean."
"How do you know?" he demanded, frustrated that his littlest sister was more informed than he was.
"I voke up vhen they brings us here. Ve vas on a space ship par a petit time. I mean, a small time..." she spoke, trying to follow their father's orders of not speaking their native language in strange places. "The homm... man said that ve vas the ones that they vas looking for. Ven I sit up, says he, 'Sleep little, you vill arise ven the time is right,' and I sleeps. I just vaked up here a few minutes ago and vas cold... so I cuddles with-"
The door opened. The children were quickly silent. A tall, thin man walked into their cell. A cold smile was spread across his long, thin face. "Well, my children, welcome to your new home," he gave them another unintentionally wicked smile. "And your new life."
Weeks later, the children began to learn the true meaning of pain. The true meaning of rewards. They were going into perfect soldier training. The most intense training any person could ever have gone through. Not even the Federation's version, the one Heero Yuy was in, wasn't close. For being put through such horrible events, the children remained incredibly resilient. Their bodies were trained faster than any person on record. However, despite countless hours in personality conditioning, the children's personality show no change whatsoever. This baffled their trainers, but didn't stop them from trying. Even after four years, there was little to no change in their personalities, besides the fact that they were incredibly mature.
The children were the essence of perfect soldier. Their ability to withstand pain, their endurance, their ability to withstand personality conditioning and their intelligence made them feared and revered among those who knew them.
And to each, a specific job:
The eldest, who was given the name Fex Anderson, was a gundam pilot.
The middle, now Diz Anderson, was a hacker and hand to hand combat specialist.
The youngest, Mena Anderson, an assassin who used potions and various weapons to complete her jobs.
Three children, now three adults, lost to the world by the world for the world. What an ugly world.
AN: SOO retarded, but it's the beat I could do... sorry... (Please be nice with the reviews... it's my first official story, after all...)
Love,
Elise Maxwell
AN: This is gonna be fun! My first fan-fic! (Oh yeah, if you're a fan of Hilde, don't read this. Why? 'Cuz I HATE Hilde.)
Assassin
Summary: Nobody's perfect. Not even the heartless assassins of the perfect solider project. So, what happens when the beautiful assassin, Mena Anderson, makes a terrible error?
Prologue:
All's fair...
Three children sit on a train, like sardines. They are obviously related because all have eyes the color of sapphires, a goofy smile, long legs, arms and bodies, for each of their ages anyway, and an innocent air. The two eldest have hair the color of sunshine. The youngest however, sticks out prominently because of her hair. It was ridiculously red, like the color of rubies directly in the sun. Her siblings both had silky smooth, straight hair. Her older sister's fell to her waist and her brother's barley went past his shoulders, and was in a ponytail at that particular time. The ruby head, on the other hand, had the most lovely natural ringlets any child could ever have.
So, anyway, there the children were, waiting for their destination when it happened. All the lights went out. "Oh my God!" a male passenger yelled. "It's happening!"
This particular man was the father of the children. "Come quickly," he yelled. "Children, please follow my voi-!"
The sudden sound of gas being released scared the passengers into chaos. Screams filled the car, shortly followed by unconscious bodies falling to the floor. "Papa!" the eldest of the three children cried. He was the last to black out.
The boy was the last to wake. He was suffering from what seemed to be the worst migraine in his entire life, that life being 12.3 years long. His sisters, 9.5 years and 5.2 years, didn't seem to be in a better condition. "Here... Here is where?" he asked.
His sisters, desperately trying to remember the words he was using struggled with their words. Their birth language was French, not this English. "Ici...? Je... I do not know..." the blonde sister replied. When she spoke English, she could hide her accent very well.
The boy got up. "A room," he moved close to the wall and touched it, "with walls made of some metal... Like a... a... cell."
"Oui," the youngest spoke. "We ver brought here by a tall, thin homme... uhh... man, I mean."
"How do you know?" he demanded, frustrated that his littlest sister was more informed than he was.
"I voke up vhen they brings us here. Ve vas on a space ship par a petit time. I mean, a small time..." she spoke, trying to follow their father's orders of not speaking their native language in strange places. "The homm... man said that ve vas the ones that they vas looking for. Ven I sit up, says he, 'Sleep little, you vill arise ven the time is right,' and I sleeps. I just vaked up here a few minutes ago and vas cold... so I cuddles with-"
The door opened. The children were quickly silent. A tall, thin man walked into their cell. A cold smile was spread across his long, thin face. "Well, my children, welcome to your new home," he gave them another unintentionally wicked smile. "And your new life."
Weeks later, the children began to learn the true meaning of pain. The true meaning of rewards. They were going into perfect soldier training. The most intense training any person could ever have gone through. Not even the Federation's version, the one Heero Yuy was in, wasn't close. For being put through such horrible events, the children remained incredibly resilient. Their bodies were trained faster than any person on record. However, despite countless hours in personality conditioning, the children's personality show no change whatsoever. This baffled their trainers, but didn't stop them from trying. Even after four years, there was little to no change in their personalities, besides the fact that they were incredibly mature.
The children were the essence of perfect soldier. Their ability to withstand pain, their endurance, their ability to withstand personality conditioning and their intelligence made them feared and revered among those who knew them.
And to each, a specific job:
The eldest, who was given the name Fex Anderson, was a gundam pilot.
The middle, now Diz Anderson, was a hacker and hand to hand combat specialist.
The youngest, Mena Anderson, an assassin who used potions and various weapons to complete her jobs.
Three children, now three adults, lost to the world by the world for the world. What an ugly world.
AN: SOO retarded, but it's the beat I could do... sorry... (Please be nice with the reviews... it's my first official story, after all...)
Love,
Elise Maxwell