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Again= aga'ahn
Against=aga'ahnst
Stained=sta'ahned
Feel=feahl
Hidden=Hahdden
See=seah
Must=mahst
Going=goahn'
You'd=Yah'd
Never=nevah
Moonlight=moonlaht
Set=saht
Chapter Five: Reach for Your Past
Standing in the empty streets, staring at as sky filled with drifting black clouds, only the silvered orb of the moon was visible. Staring down like the accusing eye of the storm. Eyes roved the sky. 'Ah wish, just once, that Ah could see them stars aga'ahn.' A hand reaches out, and ungloved fingers, white as the rays of the moon, clutch the orb. Once again it was hidden in the restless black clouds. "Aga'ahnst a sky always sta'ahned black by them damned clouds, aht's rare tah see thah moon. Or feahl aht's cool caress. Thah stars are always hahdden. Damn humanahty!" She whispered. The Wars had stained the sky. Dark clouds always seemed to wrap themselves around the city. They drove her insande. 'Tah destroy somethin' so innocent and gentle.' Moonlight had always been her companion, the Wars had stolen it from her, and she wanted it back. "Ah wish Ah could feahl thaht way aga'ahn." Stretching the ungloved hand, and spreading her fingers wide, she watches as the stormy shadows of the clouds unwittingly spread like the arms of a starfish to reveal the pale glowing moon. A small smile touches her lips. A soft golden light shines from her hand, echoed in the clouds above. Little glowing particles drift around her trembling form, all concentration focused as a spear point aimed towards it's target. 'Ah wish thah prof could seah me now.' Gently she pushed the clouds farther apart until they revealed a black sky sprinkled with tiny silver dots, glowing with their own internal fire. A silver symphony humming in her brain, in twining her in its trickling of silver and golden notes. Spreading her arms and loosing her breath, allowing herself to become a part of the celestial song. Ty's eyes snapped open, caught in a sensation that was to her mind and soul, as an orgasm is to the flesh. Golden light shining out from her eyes, and opening her mouth in soundless scream.
~~~~~~~~
Ty awoke, blood pouring like sweat from her temples, seeping from her skin. Her healing factor was already at work. Swiftly the long wounds breaking her skin closed. She watched the rapid healing in wonder, it always seemed to her as if time sped up, and she was gifted with watching it's miraculous workings. Every tissue neatly knitted back together, muscles woven into place, stronger than ever. Harshly she curled her fingers, digging her nails into the fresh tissue. Little crimson drops dribbled over her fingernails, and through the cracks between her fingers. How many times? How many times had that dream woken her? Barely able to remember if it was real or imagined, she plunged her face into her hands. Hot tears, thick like blood, gushing from her eyes. 'Ah mahst be goahn' insane.' Rocking back and forth on her bed, as the springs of the mattress gave her several harsh kicks, she moaned softly. Glancing sideways to check on Kat, she found her gone from the cot.
Sliding to her feet, her long, cotton, sleep pants muttering in a disgruntled fashion. She swept towards the window. Staring up and smiling at the large yellow moon, which hovered over the city. "Yah'd nevah betray me. Would yah?" She asked to the moon. "Moonlaht is so soft an' gentahl. Not lahk thah harshness of sunlaht. Sunlaht always seahms tah judge yah. Moonlaht...moonlaht comforts yah an' hahds yer secrets." Sighing, she leaned out the windowsill. It shoved itself into her stomach, forcing her to gasp desperately for breath. She sighed, the second time, and watching the stars fall across the black sky, she muttered. "Yeah. An angel." He'd said that, so long ago. Shaking her head vigorously, her dark hair splaying over her pale cheeks. Running her fingers over the grooves in the wood and chewing on her lower lip, she whispered. "A dark angel, more lahk."
Blood always blood, she'd spilled so much. 'Ah jahst wish...' That she hadn't been forced to. That she'd never, never become a killer. 'Ah was forced tah kill!' But was that really it? Was that really why? The real reason? "They programmed me!" But...was it them, or her. When she'd slashed into those bikers, tearing apart their bowels. Sending an inundation of blood splashing through the streets. There had been a sense of satisfaction, an inkling of pleasure, sick as that was; a part of her...enjoyed it. 'NO!' She snarled. 'Ah dahdn't! Ah couldn't!' A dark angel. Every fight since Canada, the same pleasure had entered her system. In her dreams a hunger gnawed. Driving her. 'Ah'm not lahk that!'
Below, dark clouds of steam billowed up from the sewers, bringing with them the sharp scent of old urine mixed with a stale stinging smell of mildew and mold. A few cars bounced by, sending up a roaring hiss. The echoes of wind, catching the steam, spread up until it dumped the steam to its death below. The escaping mist clouds hunkered down on the corners of the sidewalk. Shivering and whimpering. "Caught an' saht free, scattered jahst lahk us."
~~~~~~~~
Pietro was staying in an old room in the Black Avalanche's place of business. It was on the top most floor a ramshackle old town house. Paint curled off of the sideboards of the wall. "Yo! Pietro man!" Toad pounded on the door. The knock echoed hollowly through the empty soundless hall. "Uh, Pietro?" He said. All sound in the room vanished with the noise of his crackly and whiney voice. "Pietro." He said a bit louder. The room remained ghostly quiet. "Yo! Pietro!" Banging in the door until his knuckles bled, and the skin chafed, Toad kept yelling. Finally the door creaked open.
"What do you want?" Pietro growled, his voice low and rough as if from screaming. Toad could barely see him in the dim light, partially hidden from behind the door. Peaking past him, Toad evaluated the damage, the room was a mess, the small desk Avalanche used for writing was overturned, the dresser drawers were partially pulled out, clothes hanging from them, newspapers were spread out over the floor amid the clutter of clothes and pictures, black lines highlighted. The old spring less mattress was pulled off the bed frame to resemble a child hanging upside down. Old color photos were spread out, all containing the same girl, a girl Toad knew of. She was barely recognizable to him, when she was looking so innocent in those pictures.
'She normally fires rounds of bullets at us on a daily basis.' He sighed internally, not yet aware of Pietro's scrutiny. 'The days when all she did was kick us or phase through us were heaven compared to now.' He groaned as the memories subsided. 'Blob's received more than one shot in the rear.' He chuckled softly.
Pietro's sharp voice jerked Toad, like a fish on a hook, back into reality. "Well?" He said impatiently.
Toad gulped, and tried to make casual conversation. "Pietro-man, it looks like a nuke busted your room." Pietro glowered at him, eyes boring holes through Toad's skull. Toad tittered; his voice turning high pitched and took on a girlish tone, a little laugh escaping him. Nervously he began backing away. There was something about Pietro, now, that he couldn't place. It made him uneasy. In the pub Pietro looked like a man possessed by memories of the past, he seemed even crazier now. 'He doesn't care about us. We're scum to him. A means to an end.' "Well man," He said, noticing the revolver Pietro was casually twirling in his hand. "Boss says..."
A gruff laugh echoed through the hall. "So...so, you call him boss now. Lance, he's your boss?" Pietro smiled, the lines time had etched into his face deepened and he appeared in joking mood, until Toad met his eyes. Those stormy eyes were hard, holding no mirth, like pieces of steel.
"Yeah, yo! Yeah, we do." Toad said defiantly, trying desperately to quell the lump rising in his throat. "You have a problem with that yo?"
Pietro smiled again. "No, actually, none at all. But tell me Toad, " He said as he examined his black handgun. His stormy eyes tracing every fine detail, he seemed so intent, and distant. "Who are you more afraid of?" Raising his gun and pointing the barrel directly between Toad's eyes, 'Scum.' In a voice calmer than a windless lake, he said. "Lance or me?"
"Right now yo," Toad's voice shook and cracked, staring down the barrel of the gun, he thought. 'He's cracked.' Then, Toad could understand Pietro, even being a Colony man; Pietro understood what it took to get what you needed on earth. Most didn't. Even if it meant distrusting old friends. "It's definitely gotta be you." Toad could feel his heart bursting in his chest, and sweat dribbled down his chin. 'There's no way I'd get away, he's too fast. He'd shoot me before I could move.
Whining in a high pitch squeal, the door swung open to allow Toad entry. He motioned with his gun. "Get in here Toad." He growled. "There something I need to discuss with you."
"About Kat Pryde?" Toad asked slowly. ~~~~~~~~
A tall man, his hair light brown, over his eyes are sunglasses, and dressed in a light tan jacket, black shirt and pants. His hair is ruffled, as if it has been swept up by the wind. About his face a grimly determined expression hangs like a cloud of mist. "Ready to go?" Scott turned to Logan, hoisting his bag on his shoulder. Scott nodded as Logan gave him a thumbs up. Scott held out the two boarding passes for inspection.
Taking them, as she runs them through the machine the woman asks. "So why are you two heading for Earth?" She gazes at them inquisitively, a perplexed expression crossing her face. "It's not a very good vacation spot."
Scott coughs slightly, "Unfinished business."
Logan groaned and pushed him along, after retrieving their passes. "No answering questions. You don't know who she, or anyone else is working for." He growled at Scott as they made their way to the shuttle. Giving him a hard punch in the arm. "You may have grown, but you're still that na•ve kid, Scott. You think everyone is nice just because we're still on the colonies. I have news Scott, that nice woman is an insider working for the Crime lord Usuba."
Scott smiled calmly. "I'm glad to see you haven't lost you're touch Logan."
"You learn, Scott. You may have got a lot of info. But your street smarts have dulled, bub." Scott laughed, his shades flashing sharply. 'I know more than you think Logan.'
Please review! Thanx!
Chapter Five: Reach for Your Past
Standing in the empty streets, staring at as sky filled with drifting black clouds, only the silvered orb of the moon was visible. Staring down like the accusing eye of the storm. Eyes roved the sky. 'Ah wish, just once, that Ah could see them stars aga'ahn.' A hand reaches out, and ungloved fingers, white as the rays of the moon, clutch the orb. Once again it was hidden in the restless black clouds. "Aga'ahnst a sky always sta'ahned black by them damned clouds, aht's rare tah see thah moon. Or feahl aht's cool caress. Thah stars are always hahdden. Damn humanahty!" She whispered. The Wars had stained the sky. Dark clouds always seemed to wrap themselves around the city. They drove her insande. 'Tah destroy somethin' so innocent and gentle.' Moonlight had always been her companion, the Wars had stolen it from her, and she wanted it back. "Ah wish Ah could feahl thaht way aga'ahn." Stretching the ungloved hand, and spreading her fingers wide, she watches as the stormy shadows of the clouds unwittingly spread like the arms of a starfish to reveal the pale glowing moon. A small smile touches her lips. A soft golden light shines from her hand, echoed in the clouds above. Little glowing particles drift around her trembling form, all concentration focused as a spear point aimed towards it's target. 'Ah wish thah prof could seah me now.' Gently she pushed the clouds farther apart until they revealed a black sky sprinkled with tiny silver dots, glowing with their own internal fire. A silver symphony humming in her brain, in twining her in its trickling of silver and golden notes. Spreading her arms and loosing her breath, allowing herself to become a part of the celestial song. Ty's eyes snapped open, caught in a sensation that was to her mind and soul, as an orgasm is to the flesh. Golden light shining out from her eyes, and opening her mouth in soundless scream.
~~~~~~~~
Ty awoke, blood pouring like sweat from her temples, seeping from her skin. Her healing factor was already at work. Swiftly the long wounds breaking her skin closed. She watched the rapid healing in wonder, it always seemed to her as if time sped up, and she was gifted with watching it's miraculous workings. Every tissue neatly knitted back together, muscles woven into place, stronger than ever. Harshly she curled her fingers, digging her nails into the fresh tissue. Little crimson drops dribbled over her fingernails, and through the cracks between her fingers. How many times? How many times had that dream woken her? Barely able to remember if it was real or imagined, she plunged her face into her hands. Hot tears, thick like blood, gushing from her eyes. 'Ah mahst be goahn' insane.' Rocking back and forth on her bed, as the springs of the mattress gave her several harsh kicks, she moaned softly. Glancing sideways to check on Kat, she found her gone from the cot.
Sliding to her feet, her long, cotton, sleep pants muttering in a disgruntled fashion. She swept towards the window. Staring up and smiling at the large yellow moon, which hovered over the city. "Yah'd nevah betray me. Would yah?" She asked to the moon. "Moonlaht is so soft an' gentahl. Not lahk thah harshness of sunlaht. Sunlaht always seahms tah judge yah. Moonlaht...moonlaht comforts yah an' hahds yer secrets." Sighing, she leaned out the windowsill. It shoved itself into her stomach, forcing her to gasp desperately for breath. She sighed, the second time, and watching the stars fall across the black sky, she muttered. "Yeah. An angel." He'd said that, so long ago. Shaking her head vigorously, her dark hair splaying over her pale cheeks. Running her fingers over the grooves in the wood and chewing on her lower lip, she whispered. "A dark angel, more lahk."
Blood always blood, she'd spilled so much. 'Ah jahst wish...' That she hadn't been forced to. That she'd never, never become a killer. 'Ah was forced tah kill!' But was that really it? Was that really why? The real reason? "They programmed me!" But...was it them, or her. When she'd slashed into those bikers, tearing apart their bowels. Sending an inundation of blood splashing through the streets. There had been a sense of satisfaction, an inkling of pleasure, sick as that was; a part of her...enjoyed it. 'NO!' She snarled. 'Ah dahdn't! Ah couldn't!' A dark angel. Every fight since Canada, the same pleasure had entered her system. In her dreams a hunger gnawed. Driving her. 'Ah'm not lahk that!'
Below, dark clouds of steam billowed up from the sewers, bringing with them the sharp scent of old urine mixed with a stale stinging smell of mildew and mold. A few cars bounced by, sending up a roaring hiss. The echoes of wind, catching the steam, spread up until it dumped the steam to its death below. The escaping mist clouds hunkered down on the corners of the sidewalk. Shivering and whimpering. "Caught an' saht free, scattered jahst lahk us."
~~~~~~~~
Pietro was staying in an old room in the Black Avalanche's place of business. It was on the top most floor a ramshackle old town house. Paint curled off of the sideboards of the wall. "Yo! Pietro man!" Toad pounded on the door. The knock echoed hollowly through the empty soundless hall. "Uh, Pietro?" He said. All sound in the room vanished with the noise of his crackly and whiney voice. "Pietro." He said a bit louder. The room remained ghostly quiet. "Yo! Pietro!" Banging in the door until his knuckles bled, and the skin chafed, Toad kept yelling. Finally the door creaked open.
"What do you want?" Pietro growled, his voice low and rough as if from screaming. Toad could barely see him in the dim light, partially hidden from behind the door. Peaking past him, Toad evaluated the damage, the room was a mess, the small desk Avalanche used for writing was overturned, the dresser drawers were partially pulled out, clothes hanging from them, newspapers were spread out over the floor amid the clutter of clothes and pictures, black lines highlighted. The old spring less mattress was pulled off the bed frame to resemble a child hanging upside down. Old color photos were spread out, all containing the same girl, a girl Toad knew of. She was barely recognizable to him, when she was looking so innocent in those pictures.
'She normally fires rounds of bullets at us on a daily basis.' He sighed internally, not yet aware of Pietro's scrutiny. 'The days when all she did was kick us or phase through us were heaven compared to now.' He groaned as the memories subsided. 'Blob's received more than one shot in the rear.' He chuckled softly.
Pietro's sharp voice jerked Toad, like a fish on a hook, back into reality. "Well?" He said impatiently.
Toad gulped, and tried to make casual conversation. "Pietro-man, it looks like a nuke busted your room." Pietro glowered at him, eyes boring holes through Toad's skull. Toad tittered; his voice turning high pitched and took on a girlish tone, a little laugh escaping him. Nervously he began backing away. There was something about Pietro, now, that he couldn't place. It made him uneasy. In the pub Pietro looked like a man possessed by memories of the past, he seemed even crazier now. 'He doesn't care about us. We're scum to him. A means to an end.' "Well man," He said, noticing the revolver Pietro was casually twirling in his hand. "Boss says..."
A gruff laugh echoed through the hall. "So...so, you call him boss now. Lance, he's your boss?" Pietro smiled, the lines time had etched into his face deepened and he appeared in joking mood, until Toad met his eyes. Those stormy eyes were hard, holding no mirth, like pieces of steel.
"Yeah, yo! Yeah, we do." Toad said defiantly, trying desperately to quell the lump rising in his throat. "You have a problem with that yo?"
Pietro smiled again. "No, actually, none at all. But tell me Toad, " He said as he examined his black handgun. His stormy eyes tracing every fine detail, he seemed so intent, and distant. "Who are you more afraid of?" Raising his gun and pointing the barrel directly between Toad's eyes, 'Scum.' In a voice calmer than a windless lake, he said. "Lance or me?"
"Right now yo," Toad's voice shook and cracked, staring down the barrel of the gun, he thought. 'He's cracked.' Then, Toad could understand Pietro, even being a Colony man; Pietro understood what it took to get what you needed on earth. Most didn't. Even if it meant distrusting old friends. "It's definitely gotta be you." Toad could feel his heart bursting in his chest, and sweat dribbled down his chin. 'There's no way I'd get away, he's too fast. He'd shoot me before I could move.
Whining in a high pitch squeal, the door swung open to allow Toad entry. He motioned with his gun. "Get in here Toad." He growled. "There something I need to discuss with you."
"About Kat Pryde?" Toad asked slowly. ~~~~~~~~
A tall man, his hair light brown, over his eyes are sunglasses, and dressed in a light tan jacket, black shirt and pants. His hair is ruffled, as if it has been swept up by the wind. About his face a grimly determined expression hangs like a cloud of mist. "Ready to go?" Scott turned to Logan, hoisting his bag on his shoulder. Scott nodded as Logan gave him a thumbs up. Scott held out the two boarding passes for inspection.
Taking them, as she runs them through the machine the woman asks. "So why are you two heading for Earth?" She gazes at them inquisitively, a perplexed expression crossing her face. "It's not a very good vacation spot."
Scott coughs slightly, "Unfinished business."
Logan groaned and pushed him along, after retrieving their passes. "No answering questions. You don't know who she, or anyone else is working for." He growled at Scott as they made their way to the shuttle. Giving him a hard punch in the arm. "You may have grown, but you're still that na•ve kid, Scott. You think everyone is nice just because we're still on the colonies. I have news Scott, that nice woman is an insider working for the Crime lord Usuba."
Scott smiled calmly. "I'm glad to see you haven't lost you're touch Logan."
"You learn, Scott. You may have got a lot of info. But your street smarts have dulled, bub." Scott laughed, his shades flashing sharply. 'I know more than you think Logan.'
Please review! Thanx!