Title: Second Level Graduate
Author: Lady Snowblossom
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Tala/Bryan/OC
Note: Someone surprising has a decent sibling.
Additional note: Original characters
Mark Bradford-Scott: He is American by birth and is sixteen. He has auburn hair worn loose to his mid-back, then is gathered into a ponytail, ends at the curve of his bottom. He has jade eyes and is five foot ten in height and weighs one hundred and sixty pounds. His skin tone is creamy white. He is the reigning individual world champion of the Independent League. His bitbeast is Sekhmet – a desert lion. Special attack – Sandstorm Lightening Strike.
Trevor Withers: English and is seventeen. He is tawny-haired with hazel eyes and pale white skin. Hair is worn to jaw-length and he has a scar on the back of his neck from a fall down some steps at the age of seven. Height is five foot ten. Weight: one hundred and sixty. He has a dolphin bitbeast named: Wave rider. Special attack – Aquatic ram
Woban Firehorse: Native American Indian – half Apache and half Navajo. Age: seventeen. His copper skin tone is offset by jet-black hair, worn similar to Mark's and has snapping black eyes. Height is an even six feet. Weight: one hundred and sixty-five. He has a hawk bitbeast known as: Soarer. Special attack - Talon slash.
Dee, Deshi: Chinese. His coal black hair is worn loose and to the shoulders. His skin is marred here and there by scars, as he grew up on a farm, a result of which is his skin is bronzed by much exposure to the sun. His piercing black eyes seem to see everything and he seldom looses his temper. He is eighteen years old and stands an unimpressive five foot six. Weight: one hundred and fifty-five pounds. Lost the little finger of his left hand, when he got it caught under an anvil on his grandfather's farm at the age of six and had to have it amputated. His five-clawed dragon bitbeast is called Silver Fang. Special attack – Spiral hail blast.
Irv Nesbitt: Welsh. Irv is a short five foot five and has brown hair cropped close to his head and blue eyes. He weighs one hundred and forty pounds and eats like a horse. He loves to cook and is constantly searching for the perfect recipe. His wolf bitbeast is called Ham-stringer. Special attack – Throat claw attack.
Aleron Javero: Argentinean. His Black, Indian, and Spanish blood has produced a five foot five sixteen year old with short black hair and black eyes, who can stick to a horse like a burr. His skin is dark brown and he weighs one hundred and thirty-five pounds. His bitbeast is a fiery horse called: Equis. Special attack – Thunder kick.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not yours. Bandai's. End of story. The Abbey on the Moor is mine – So, no poaching.
A black helicopter beat its way through the late afternoon sun. In the distance, an ominous bank of gray clouds sailed toward the insignificant piece of metal on the wings of a strong wind.
Sitting inside the helicopter, Voltaire glared at the four bladers, who sat as far from him as they could and still be on the helicopter. The vindictive old man turned his attention from the youths to their trainer.
"Boris, what do you have to say for yourself?"
The purple haired man thought carefully before answering. "Something unforeseen happened at the stadium, Voltaire. Tala should have won easily, considering the number of bit beasts he had at his command, yet something allowed Tyson to win."
"Yes, he won and so did that half-human freak that Bryan faced, what do you say to that!" Voltaire growled.
"In all my years of working with bladers and bitbeasts, I have never seen a bit beast protect their companion like that." Boris said quietly, "I need time to . . ."
"Time!" Voltaire shouted, "You've had years! The possibility should have accord to you at some point."
"But, Voltaire . . ."
"Enough!" Voltaire snapped, "I've wasted enough time and money on your little experiments! Dickenson is onto us and we can no longer afford any failures!"
"I agree." Boris said calmly, "that's why I need time to study what happened and retrain Tala and the rest."
"They are no longer important, understand."
Boris blinked at the vicious look that crossed the old man's face and he did, indeed understood. The Demolition Boys were going to disappear – permanently. And if he crossed the old bastard at this point, he'd be joining them in their fate. And whatever came, he was determined to survive, so if the boys had to be sacrificed to save his own skin, then so be it.
"I will do whatever you think is best." He said quietly.
"Excellent, then we will rid ourselves of these defective experiments of yours and set about rebuilding our power base" Voltaire gave the four blank faced youths a final glare, then he turned to stare out the window at the forest flashing past under the copter's blades.
Boris sat silently, ignoring the boys all together.
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As they listened to the two men, who weren't bothering to keep their voices down. Tala and Bryan slowly inched their hands toward each other, until pale and paler fingers entwined. The duo didn't dare turn their heads to look at one another. But the tightness of their grip communicated the same message.
Unless they found a way to avoid it, they were going to die.
Ian huddled into his coat and clutched Wyborg for comfort. His eyes strayed to his captain looking for some sign that Tala was looking for a way out of this mess, but the redhead was calmly sitting and staring out the window. Looking away from Tala, he glanced at Spencer sitting next to him. The big blonde was as still as a statue, his thoughts hidden, his gaze on the wall directly in front of them.
Suddenly, he felt a tap, tap, tappity tap on his hand and for a second he was confused, then realized Spencer was using his forefinger to tap out a message in Morse code. Rapidly, he spelled out the message in his head.
"Tala says, as soon as the chopper lands and they open the door, rush the guards and jump. Make yourself as small a target as you can, and run for the trees."
Quickly, the small blader tapped back. "Right. Glad the wolf has an idea. Won't want to make it too easy for them." A soft touch by Spencer acknowledged the message, and the youngest Demolition Boy sat back, content with the knowledge that they weren't gonna go down without a fight.
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Fifteen minutes passed and one of Voltaire's bodyguards raised a hand to the wire he was wearing, listening intently, then he leaned forward and said something to Voltaire, who nodded. The helicopter began to descend and the four youths began to get ready.
Eyeing the lax way the guards were holding their weapons, the falcon's lower lip curled in contempt. 'Did those fools actually think they'd allow themselves to lead to the slaughter like lambs?' They were about to find out how wrong they were, as he eased forward on his seat, ready to explode into action at Tala's word.
The descending motion of the helicopter ceased, but there was no bump of a landing.
'It's hovering.' Tala thought, as he gathered his long legs under him and tensed for the moment of truth. 'Doesn't matter, jumping is our only chance.'
Boris turned in his seat and nodded to the contingent of guards seated behind the youths. A pair of them rose and went to the door and began to open it. As the door slid open, the last two guards stood behind the four and barked, "Get up."
They obediently rose and started for the door, at the last possible second, Tala spun and punched one of the guards in the stomach shouting, "now!" As he did so.
Bryan wheeled and punched the other guard, while Spencer scooped Ian up and charged forward knocking the guards at the door aside. The pair leapt, as Bryan and Tala made their own dash for freedom. The falcon and wolf sailed out the door, and landed in a shoulder roll that ended with them on their feet and running through the snow.
"Fools! Don't let them escape!" Voltaire screamed, as the guards jumped to their feet and rushed to the door, fumbling for their guns.
The chopper was hovering over a meadow bordered on all sides by trees. The wash of the props was creating a small snowstorm making it difficult to see the four boys, who were wearing white coats and crouching low as they fled.
Ian stumbled over a stump hidden in the snow and nearly fell, but a strong grip yanked him to his feet and he looked up to see Spencer shoot pass. "Thanks!" He called. Bryan came even and growled, "less talk, more run!" But, the taller youth stayed near, as the shorter boy struggled to keep up with his taller teammates longer legs.
A bullet whizzing pass their ears made both Bryan and Ian fall to the ground and roll. "They've almost got the range." Bryan panted, as he scrambled to his feet, dragging Ian up with him. "Never mind crouching, short stuff, just run!"
Tala swore as a bullet creased his shoulder, but the wolf didn't falter in his dash to the tree line. As he gained the safety of the first trees, he spun and began shouting encouragement to his lover and two teammates.
"Bryan! Spencer! Ian! Come on, you're almost there!" He cried, as they struggled toward him.
'Sput! Sput! Sput!' Little flumes of snow shot up as the guards continued to fire at the floundering youths. But, at that moment, nature decided to take a hand in matters. The wind began to pick up as the storm clouds drew near.
"Sir!" one the bodyguards called, "the pilot says that the storm front is moving in faster than predicted, if we don't leave now, we'll be caught in the blizzard."
Voltaire cursed, then he smiled evilly and ordered. "Cease fire! We'll just let the storm take them!"
Boris shook his head, "It would be better to take a few more minutes to make sure, that we get them, than risk their finding help."
Voltaire snarled, "We are out in the middle of nowhere! That is why I picked this spot, it would be unlikely that there is anyone within miles of here! Now, shut up, before I have you thrown out!" Looking over at the guards, he snapped, "close the doors and tell the pilot to get out of here at once!"
"Yes, sir!" the guards cried.
Boris glanced out the closing door and saw that all four youths had made it to the tree line and were now vanishing into the depths of the forest. As he turned and went back to his seat beside the grim and angry Voltaire, he had the disquieting feeling that one day he would see them again and would regret it when he did.
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"Tala, where are we going?" Bryan asked, as he walked at the wolf's side. They had stopped running once, they couldn't hear the 'thrump, thrump' of the chopper's rotors. And Tala ordered Spencer to take point and create a path for the rest to follow. Tala pointed slightly north. "That way, I saw a road as we flew in and where there's a road."
"There may be help." Bryan finished for him. He glanced behind them. The snow in the woods wasn't as deep as in the meadow, but the soft whiteness hid many snares for the unwary. And probing for those hidden dangers were slowing them down.
Then he looked ahead to where Spencer was working on the trail Tala had ordered, Ian on his heels.
"Tala, we need to find shelter and a way to build a fire, in case we don't find help soon. We can only go so long, before the wind gets us."
"I know, that's why I'm hoping there will be a traveler on the road, who will give us a lift."
"There's also another problem."
"What?" Tala stopped and faced his lover. Bryan stepped closer and lowered his voice. "Ian is not gonna be any help in making a path if the snow gets deeper and its going to." He glanced around at the slight spit of snow that fell around them. "And Spencer can only go for so long, before he is going to have to spelled."
The redhead bit his lip and nodded, "I know. And Ian's likely to be the first of us to drop."
"Spencer could carry him." Bryan said tentatively, but Tala shook his head. "Spencer will most likely be exhausted himself, when that time comes." His worried blue eyes followed the pair up ahead. "We'll just have to decide what to do, when that time comes."
'Meaning most likely, you'll carry him.' Bryan thought, as Tala turned from him and hurried to catch up with the other two. Tala's query of "Spencer, are you tired?" drifted back to him. He stood for a moment and glanced up at the sky, the blue was dulling to gray and soon the storm would come; he could feel it in his bones.
For some time, they walked in silence, breathing through their noses trying to conserve body heat, and Bryan found a long piece of vine that each of them would hold onto so they wouldn't lose one another once it got dark.
And the darkness would come early, even though the hour wasn't late, as overhead the clouds thickened and the snow began falling in swirls that danced madly, blown to and fro by whichever current of the wind, they got caught in.
'This is what hell will be like.' Ian thought, as he struggled to keep his footing, as they worked up a small incline. 'Howling winds, freezing snow and walking nearly blind – forever.' The tiny blader stepped forward and his foot landed on something that rolled and his feet flew out from under him and he landed on his back – winded.
As he lay there, wheezing and coughing, a black gloved hand reached down and waited for him to grip it. As he reached for the hand, Tala peered down at him. "Ian, get on my back." and after pulling Ian up, the redhead crouched, waiting.
"But, Tala!" Ian protested he knew Tala was tired, they all were. He couldn't burden Tala with him.
"No, buts. Just do it." Tala ordered and Ian reluctantly obeyed. Tala grunted as he rose, Ian's extra weight nearly pitching him into a drift, but he got his feet under him and he began to move forward to where Bryan and Spencer sat in the snow, resting while they could.
Bryan rose and made to take Ian from Tala, but his lover shoved his hand away. "I've got him. Just you and Spencer keep moving, try to make a wind break for us." Bryan stared into weary sapphires and he leaned forward and kissed Tala gently. When they parted, Tala smiled and hitched Ian higher on his back and Bryan touched his cheek with gloved fingers. They gazed at each other for a moment, and then Bryan turned and rejoined Spencer, who slowly began to move off.
But, the going was getting tougher, the full force of the storm was upon them and visibility was down to only a couple of feet.
Bryan fell back and shouted at Tala. "We'll never find that damn road in this! We need to find shelter, now!"
Panting, Tala nodded, he could feel the sweat on his face freezing and his lungs felt frozen. His leaden feet were dead weights and Ian's slight weight was slowly driving him to his knees, but he tried to struggle on, the others were his responsibility, dammit! And he wasn't going to fail them!
"Try to see if you can find a windbreak of fallen trees, but don't lose sight of us!" He shouted back at Bryan, who raised a finger to indicate that he'd heard and the falcon reached out and pressed his gloved fingers to Tala's lips, then he stepped off the trail to go around Spencer and began to scan for anything that they could rest in.
Spencer was worried. The snow was falling faster and visibility was getting worse and he knew that Tala was at the end of his strength and he didn't know how much longer he could go on. If Bryan didn't find something soon, he shook his head and refused to dwell on freezing to death. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Tala stumble and slowly fall to the ground, throwing Ian face first into a pile of snow.
The big blonde turned and went back, reaching down he pulled Tala to his feet and slung his captain's left arm across his shoulders, while he dragged Ian out of the snow with his other hand. Tala tried to pull away but the larger boy tightened the arm he held onto Tala with.
"Spencer, there is no way you can carry the two of us in this, let go and you and Ian go find Bryan." Tala wheezed, struggling to get air into his lungs.
"No," Ian coughed, "he can leave me."
"Shut up, both of you." Spencer said shortly, "I'm not leaving either of you." And setting his jaw, the whale headed in the direction, he'd seen Bryan walking in.
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Bryan used the edge of Falborg to scratch an arrow in the trunk of the tree; he'd leaned against to rest for a moment, his sharp eyes searching for anything that could be used for shelter. Seeing nothing, he sighed and pushed away from the rough bark.
No longer having the strength to stride, he shuffled along, unable to feel anything with his icy feet. He had not obeyed Tala's order to not lose sight of them, but he wasn't taking the chance that shelter would just jump out at him, so he went out further, using his blade to blaze a sign of his passing on the trunks of trees.
He was so intent on not twisting an ankle in a tangle of fallen tree roots; he almost missed it, a dark hole partially hidden by a bush. Praying he'd found a cave or something he stumbled over and pushed the barrier aside. There before his tearing eyes was a small cave, it would be a tight squeeze but it was deep enough to hold them all and get them out of the wind.
Thanking whatever power was watching over them, he made his way back toward he'd last seen the others.
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'Bryan must have come this way.' Spencer thought studying the arrow cut into the rough bark of a pine tree. 'That cut is fresh. The sap hasn't had time to freeze.' He turned back to where Tala and Ian were leaning against a tree.
Tala sagged against the rough bark and tried to keep his knees from buckling, he was so tired. If he could only rest, maybe grab a few minutes of sleep. Unnoticed his eyes began sagging shut and he started sliding down.
Slap!
"Tala! Wake up! Don't you dare go to sleep!" Spencer grabbed his captain's coat front and shook the redhead, fear making him rougher than he intended. "Come on, Tala! You can't let them win!"
Tala scarcely felt the blow, but he heard the anger and fear in Spencer's voice and he rallied to the call. He raised his head and smiled. Spencer sighed in relief a feeling that was short lived, when not far away, a wolf howled. And was that the roar of a lion, he heard?
Ian clutched at Spencer, his eyes wide. "Was that what I thought it was." He asked a slight quiver in his voice.
"It was a wolf." Tala said calmly adrenaline pumping strength into his muscles. "Wolves run in packs, so we need to find a place we can defend ourselves, if they come our way."
Thinking quickly, Spencer looked around, his own exhaustion making his moves sluggish. A tree! They had to get up a tree! He grabbed Ian and boosted him up to the lowest branch of the tree they were under. Ian grabbed the branch and scrambled up onto it.
"Higher, Ian!" Tala called, and the snake obeyed. There was a crunching, cracking sound as the boy made his way to the next row of branches, where he crouched close to the trunk, looking for all the world like a large beaked featherless bird.
"You next, Spencer." Tala said eyes scanning for the first glimpse of the canine whose call cut through the shriek of the wind. But, the blonde shook his head. "Tala, you need me to help you reach the branch." And not giving the redhead time to argue, Spencer grabbed him and shoved the snarling, growling redhead up to the branch.
"Grab the branch, Yuriy!" Spencer shouted, using Tala's real name. "Bryan would never forgive me if anything happened to you! Now, get up there!" He ground his teeth in frustration, as Tala wavered. "Please, Yuriy! I promise I'll be right behind you!"
"You better!" Tala shouted back, as he pulled himself upon to the limb and turned to looked down at Spencer, who was moving to the other side of the tree.
Jumping up, Spencer grabbed the low hanging limb and began to haul himself up, just as two strange youths stepped into sight. One was a brunette and the other had auburn hair. Spencer fell to the ground in surprise. Tala and Ian stared.
The two boys walked over and the auburn haired one scowled and said sharply, "You three are damn lucky the storm hadn't washed Bryan's scent on the trees away, yet. Or, we would never have found you."
Yes, I know this is short. But this is something of an experiment. I'll be bringing into play a Beyblading facility of my own creation and some of the members of that facility have an interesting ability.
Svoloch' - SOB
And I'm working on the next chapter of "I'm a father" as fast as I can. See ya, soon!