AN: Haha, yes!!! Chapter one is up, people!! I enjoyed writing this. Lyn is cool, in my opinion. But then again, she's my OC so I would say something like that. You steal her, I eat you. Not literally. But I will eat you. Same applies to any of my OCs. Other than that *disclaimers* I own nothing! Humble respects to the author and animators of this awesome anime. I hope someone is actually spectacular enough to review this! Oh, and actual characters from the anime are coming sooner than you think…
This chapter was written under the influence of the song Rooftops (A Liberation Broadcast) by Lostprophets. Kudos to them, because it's an amazing song.
Here it is, El Numero Uno. Enjoy it in its entire splendor!!
Standing on the rooftops
Everybody scream your heart out.
Standing on the rooftops
Everybody scream your heart out.
Standing on the rooftops
Everybody scream your heart out.
This is all we got now
Everybody scream your heart out.
Salutations from the Author, Poncey
Today was the day.
The girl slumped over with her head in her hands. She took one last look at the rows of wooden desks, the dainty fingers, and the clock before closing her eyes.
Why does the Academy have to get out later than everywhere else? I mean, it is summer already!
She started fidgeting under the table, tapped her feet randomly to the tune of her flexing fingers.
One minute left. One single, stupid minute.
She counted down the seconds in her mind, relishing each tick of the old grandfather clock in the back of the stuff academy classroom. It was almost time.
School would end in sixty seconds.
She could almost taste it.
Three.
She was practically delirious with her own glee. She let out a glorious laugh, interrupting whatever nonsense the teacher had just spewed. She'd never have to set foot in here again.
Two.
Regardless of the fact that she was still in class, she shoved her chair back and stood up as the rest of the class stared at her. They usually did, so it wasn't much news to anyone. Besides, she liked it when people stared at her.
One.
The grandfather clock let out its mandatory chime and shattered the silence. She grinned like a wicked monkey and began to run just as the clock tower a mile away gave a dong to beat the band.
*****
It was one of those lazy summer days where the heat of the sun mingled between the alleyways and radiated off the metal and tile of the commonplace buildings. The sun poked its way through thin clouds, rays illuminating black thatch roofs. There was no sense of rain or foreboding. The people continued to bustle and chatter as they always did. The radios that lined the windows released cheerful, average music. It was the type of day that passed without much notice, and it would have done so if not for one minute detail.
The rooftops of Domino City played home to many different things. The most prominent was its structure: black thatched tile that held itself by its hinges, but a hair from falling off onto the cobblestones below. They clung desperately to their host building's foundation, the right trigger causing them to fall. In places, the streets were littered with shards of the black tile, an obstacle for the passersby. Birds curled their skimpy nests of brittle twigs into the gutter; grumpy wasps let their nests hang off the edges of them. Even the occasional stray cat found sanctuary amidst the sea of tile.
But one such rooftop held a different treasure: a child.
A boy of twelve sat on a particularly crumpled roof, weather-tanned face slumped in a rough hand. Spikes of pale gray hair fell into a pointed face. With golden eyes, he surveyed the avenues, watching innocent pedestrians tromp by and busses fly in a flash to an obscure destination. He shifted his position to rest on his back, bits of dust floating everywhere at the impact of his small body. He watched a cloud float slowly across the sky, lazily tracing how it took the shape of a rabbit and then morphed into a disfigured hand.
Boring, as usual.
It was so much more interesting when she was there.
Why does her school take so long to get out? He thought lazily to himself. He rolled onto his side to peer at Mrs. Penrose's Academy for the Developing Woman. The droll mansion-like building stuck out like a rainbow on a cloudy day. It looked pristine, buried under a layer of black paint. Its arched windows jutted out from above gable trim, turrets twisted into the sky. A rickety front porch shaded an elaborately carved front door. It rested in silence on bated breath. It also knew what was coming.
The boy felt the outline of the object he prized press against his thigh. The time was coming. Soon. They were going to have an amazing adventure today.
The boy sat up again and squinted into the distance. He caught sight of what he was looking for: the clock tower. It told him there was one minute left. He watched the clock tick down the remaining seconds carefully.
Three.
He laughed as the wind ruffled his hair. A sparrow launched itself from its perch on the roof and flapped into the distance. He watched it go, wishing that he could spread his wings and fly away too.
Two.
He pushed himself into a standing position, letting the breeze flap his navy coat-tails. He never knew why he wore a suit anyway. He'd just get it dirty later when he and the girl went exploring the city.
One.
A large dong shattered the silence and let everyone know that the time was four o'clock. He wanted to jump from the roof but he knew he should wait.
The academy door opened slowly. The product of fourteen years of work on innocent orphan girls was apparent before they had opened the door. Mindless corpses of a funeral home full of sewing and doilies walked in a dainty march. The puppets that left the building stepped on their tip-toes, back erects, noses pointing towards the sun. Thick tresses of curly hair floated down their backs, not a strand out of place. They all wore the same floor-length black dresses and flats, untouched by ground or time.
Well, all except for one.
"I'M FREE!" The mindless chorus of the Academy's bad seed reverberated through the halls she sprinted. She shoved the door open so hard that it almost flew off its hinges and actually cracked in places.
She ripped across the emerald grass and began to pull her dress over her head. The first thing revealed were ripped ivory sneakers whose soles were practically falling off. Then the bare calves and the short, mud-splattered khakis. After dragging the dress over her head, she showed a baggy, wrinkled mint tank-top. A wooden and intricately carved medallion bounced back and forth on a leather cord, and another leather cord was tied about her wrist so loosely it looked like it would fall off any second now. Her hair was not long, neat or curly. Uncombed, short hair the color of chestnuts blew in the wind, the only hint of anything remotely average being the side bang the ended in a point and threatened to obscure the right side of her face. Her mahogany eyes gleamed with absolute happiness and sly madness from behind plastic, square glasses.
Lyn Holloway. Otherwise known by any young child as The Vagabond. Anytime there was trouble, they knew that she was in the middle of it. And currently, she was very much in the middle of it.
"I can't believe I'm finally free!" She bellowed to the Academy's rusting iron gate and the sky and the clouds. Her boyish voice full of stubbornness hurt many of the other girl's ears. "YES! I can finally run though the streets and blow all my money on candy and burn this blasted dress!" She shoved the girls she passed haphazardly, pushing her way though the sea of aristocrats until she jumped clean over the iron fence that had held her spirit captive for so many years. She threw her dress on the streets, where it was soon trampled.
She found her only friend standing on the roof like he always did, waiting for her like he always had and, had school continued any longer, probably always would.
"Did you hear that, Sparrow?" She called up to the boy. "I never have to sit up straight or listen to what anyone tells me EVER AGAIN!"
The boy, Sparrow, looked down at the girl and nodded in recognition. "I've got something to tell you!" He hollered from the roof. "Something important! Hold on a sec…" Smiling, he jumped clumsily down in a flurry of arms and legs and by some unknown force managed to land on his feet.
"Still up to your old shenanigans, I see. Now, what was it you wanted to tell me?" Lyn asked once Sparrow regained his sense of balance.
Sparrow laughed. "Boy, am I ever!" Wasting no time, he dug through his pockets for several minutes. After pulling out a penny, a broken button, a hunk of bread, and a small crimson box he produced a tiny, golden key.
"Today, Lyn, you and I have the honored privilege of robbing a house."