Disclaimer: By this means, I rightfully claim ownership to this FanFiction story and my original character within it, by my trademark signature T.M.O at the conclusion of every update. Any other characters that may appear in this work and are new, these are the rightful properties by their creators as well and cannot be reproduced, or duplicated without their individual consent. I do not own anything within the DC Universe, from Warner Brothers, or on Cartoon Network. The only original character and the name that I created for him; that I accept half ownership on is Falcon from this telling. Scififanfreak222 owns the second half of him as well, for drawing him upon a collaboration of various new designs and sketches within the year of 2010; and cannot be knowingly placed into another literary document, writing community, comic book series, and or televised broadcast without either of our written or verbal consent in front of legal consultants. TheForceIsStrongWithThisOne, Scififanfreak222, xSaffire55x, Novus Ordo Seclorum, and RavenxIsxAxBlackxRose; each of these fellow writers have helped me to press onwards with this story, every-time I have come across writers block. Without their outstanding guidance, the updates would have taken me even longer to complete.
Chapter 37 is finished! Elizabeth and Falcon have at last met, as a training bout outside of Titans Tower tests the skills of two heroes, while even more dilemmas unravel. "Don't boast when you set out, but only when you get there." -Russian Proverb-
Chapter 37 - The Ballad Of Heroes
"Can I help you?" Falcon asked in a calm voice, as he gradually lifted his head.
The concealed figure smiled a smug smile, and she pulled her hood back exposing her face, revealing her dark blue hair and entrancing eyes. "My name is Elizabeth."
Falcon leaned back a little against the railing. He was utterly speechless as her captivating gaze, caused him to tremble. It was her, and deep down he knew it.
The fourteen-year-old took a step closer to the young man, holding her right hand out to shake his. It was seen as the universal invitation for something positive. Falcon on the other end, still had yet to respond.
Elizabeth continued speaking, "So, we finally meet after all this time. You probably had no idea how you ended up in this place. Do you . . . do you remember that night?"
It was you, wasn't it? The girl who saved me. Now our paths converge once more. Falcon thought to himself.
"You do remember me. Don't you?" Elizabeth asked again.
Falcon stood with a partial frown plastered over his face; as the moment came flooding back to him. He was trapped inside the destroyed ruins, of The Jump City Railway. The abysmal horror of hearing the explosions, of falling into the pit, and then blackness.
This caused the stinging sensation along his battered hip to intensify, while the fading memory flashed across his brain.
"Wait . . . are you . . . you mean you are-" he tripped over his words, as the pieces gradually trickled in.
She nodded to confirm what he knew.
The seventeen-year-old gulped, where it was like a dam holding back a great body of water had finally burst open within his mind, and he could not react quickly enough.
He simply looked down to observe his damaged leg, his various wounds and countless scars. He had accepted what had occurred, but he was still confounded to be meeting the girl who dragged him out of that pit.
Why is she here? he thought.
While gently running his right hand over his eye-patch, this time he smirked.
"I don't know what to say." Falcon rasped.
"It is nice to meet you. Outside from that mess, and already back on your feet." The fourteen-year-old took another step, and she raised her hand to try and shake his, in a more confident manner. "That's impressive."
Falcon glanced down at this gesture, but he stayed where he was. Unmoving and unable to totally embrace her. He did not wish to have an accident, brought forth by his skin-contact ability.
The first days with The Titans, Falcon had done more harm than good. Being astutely aware of issues that could occur, he did everything to avoid repeat incidents. So far, and while he was awake here at the hospital, there were no issues.
"Tis still a bit sore." Susan cut-in, and she frowned at his shy and closed-off nature.
"Nothing personal." he finally replied while rubbing his right shoulder.
Elizabeth slowly retracted her arm, and she brought it back down to her side. Ever since that moment their paths crossed, things became unhinged. She was being more rebellious than her typical fashion, acting out of desperation, and she was striving to reach for something.
There was a part of her that had been building strength since that night, when she raced out of the diner, and into the street. It was a very dangerous situation, but she was willing to test herself. To put what she learned to use.
For so long she had been in a controlled environment, with many chaperones and various adults to guide her, but on that night and in that place, she had taken a leap into the larger world.
"So. Your name is Alex?" The striving medical practitioner asked the injured teenager. "I overheard from across the room."
"That's me."
"Well Alex . . . I don't mean to pry or anything, but some things never made much sense to me. I don't think it would be too much trouble, to talk about that night."
"Oh, like what?"
"Ever since I found you, and I don't really know what you were doing, but, it must have been of some importance. To be all alone inside of the train station at that hour."
"There isn't much for me to say."
"What happened?"
"Well, the short of it is, I was at the wrong place, at the wrong time. I ended up missing a departure, and while I waited, I wanted to find a quiet place to get away from all the foot-traffic and noise."
"Go on."
"I know how it may sound crazy, but I ended up falling asleep."
"At the train station?"
Falcon looked away. He was not good at weaving tall tales, but he figured by blending partial truth with a lie to her, with the same story to a few other people that had asked, it allowed him to keep his identity a secret.
He wanted to be vague, the less that was described, the easier it would be to keep hidden.
"I had a long journey already, and what may seem unusual or difficult to grasp, but that is what happened."
Elizabeth took another step, inching her way closer. She was right alongside the bars he was using as supports. She had to know the truth, and this incident was very unusual.
For someone as young as her, it startled the older teenager she was walking towards.
"The next thing I knew, a series of explosions went off and I ran. I ran as fast as I could until the floor gave out and . . ." the burn in his hip slowly heated once more, and he winced. "Well, you found me where you did."
Elizabeth nodded.
"Now den, what be da reason-in behind tis line of questions?" Susan spoke up, as her dialect was very thick from the Caribbean Islands.
Elizabeth flexed her fingers before answering, while crossing her arms over her chest.
"I had a lot to answer for, where I missed a day of school, and I had to tell not only my father, but the authorities what I could, after bringing you all this way." she exhaled to emphasize her displeasure in the whole series of events. "I am seeking out closure I guess, to get to the bottom of things is all. I think someone in my position, has at least earned that."
Falcon's face became wrinkled, and he let out a chuckle to hide what he was thinking before answering, "Aren't you a little young to be playing detective?"
Elizabeth smirked right back, and she gently stroked the metal rung before looking up. "True, I may be a teenager and I am still in school. But I did risk my own hide that night, to rescue you."
There was a long pause until he rasped, "I'm a little rough around the edges, but for what it is worth, I will say . . . thank you."
He turned and started to limp towards the wheelchair.
"Well, aren't you just a peach?" she clicked her tongue inside of her cheek.
He stopped, he was being pestered by the younger teen, and he did not like it. There were a few maneuvers he could facilitate, to get her off his back. The most appealing choice, to avoid creating a scene, was to submit to her with more flattery.
Falcon turned and he replied, "For what I put you through, I never meant for you to get into trouble on my behalf. I was careless, stupid, and that's why I ended up where you found me."
"I see. But after the explosion rocketed Jump City, and I got outside of the diner to see what all the commotion was about . . . when I got to you . . . well you can surely see why things don't add up."
As she paused and squeezed her fists, Falcon who had hobbled away was looking directly into her eyes.
Elizabeth took a breath, before she continued talking. "Okay, so you were at the wrong place at the wrong time, like you said."
"For all that misfortune that took place, the one bit of luck was that you were there to find me." The eye-patch teenager responded. "Again . . . I thank you, and I owe you a great deal of gratitude. My life."
She watched as he prepared to sit, where Susan came over but he raised his right hand, waving her back. He was determined to do things on his own, and that exposed a bit of her own traits, that she respected him a little more.
"Ya ahr a stubborn one little bird." Susan shook her head with displeasure. "Always got-ta do tings da hard way."
"Still on me for that, well you never change. Thank you, but I think I'll rest for a bit." Falcon rasped as he looked up.
"Back to ya room den?"
He nodded.
"Alex." Elizabeth cut-in. "All that happened kind of jumbled things around, and I didn't want to make you feel worse just now. But, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, would it be alright if I walked with you to your room?"
"Well I-"
"There you are!" A child's voice echoed from the doorway, and all eyes darted to the newest intruder.
"It's good to see you again Gretchen." The seventeen-year-old bowed his head, as he watched her being pushed in her wheelchair by Mr. Kennedy.
"Where did you run off to? Why did you leave? What happened?" The six-year-old sputtered one question after another, totally oblivious to everybody else, including Elizabeth.
Falcon pointed over his shoulder, and the Jamaican Nurse crossed her arms. "First of all, I can't run anywhere."
"What?"
Falcon chuckled. "See. Mrs. Susan over here wanted me to get some physical therapy in, to help me get stronger. I'm in rough shape and this is to help me get better."
"You had me worried." Gretchen pouted.
"I was actually on my way back to my room."
Gretchen clearly was upset over the minor ordeal, of something that was really nothing but to her, it felt like a deep betrayal.
The logic of a child. He remarked in his head.
The six-year-old squinted her eyes and she revealed a scowl.
"Everybody in this place has to go through some treatment or other." Falcon raised his hands to defend what had happened, and he continued; "Don't worry though, I'm all done for the day with this . . . and I was on my way back to the room."
"So you will help me make more cranes then?"
"I made a promise to you Gretchen, and I'm not one to break a promise."
She let out a cheer, and after pumping a fist in celebration, her eyes finally met with Elizabeth's.
"Lizzy! You're back!" Gretchen exclaimed.
The fourteen-year-old smiled a heartwarming grin, and she knelt down to embrace the six-year-old in a tight hug.
"Hi there. Did you miss me?"
"Of course!" Gretchen was quickly overjoyed, as she was feeling very tired from her treatment earlier in the day.
As the cancer patient yawned, she stretched her arms above her head. Elizabeth felt a pang in her heart. Witnessing any child dealing with such a crippling illness, it can be quite the uncomfortable topic.
The two felt that the close bond they shared, was like they were sisters reuniting. They had parted from each-other a few days ago, and it was not fully expressed when they would meet again.
"I take it, that you are still trying to make more of the origami cranes?" asked Elizabeth.
"Uh-huh." The Leukemia patient nodded. "And while I told you that I was going to make them myself . . ." she looked to the floor, partially crestfallen about something, then her attention turned to Falcon.
Elizabeth looked to the other teenager, and then back to her little friend and she smiled.
"You were going around asking people, to join in on the arts and crafts with you, is that it?"
"I can make them by myself."
"Of course you can. I never doubted it for a second. But sometimes . . . sometimes it is more meaningful when we are with other people."
Upon observing the various groups converging, Falcon felt a sense of relief wash over him, as the scrutiny and questioning around how he ended up here, it was just as irritating as his battered hip.
Now that these girls were talking, it diverted all the focus off from the previous topic.
(~)
Two opponents were standing apart many yards, their wooden swords were at the ready, and their shadows stretched across the hot sand. A tiny red crab scurried across a rock, ducking into a crevice while the water splashed onshore.
The sound of the ocean was very peaceful, and the clear afternoon air was refreshing, compared to being cooped-up inside of Titans Tower all day.
A seagull was noticed overhead, the bird's shadow was cascading down, while the wind suddenly picked-up. It was hovering on the air-current, seeking out scraps of food.
Out in the distance near the Bay-Bridge, a few sailboats bobbed across the water. A surfer was also noticed, teaching another swimmer the craft of balancing on a board.
The Squadron members were dedicated in many aspects of tradition, like The Teen Titans. They were adamant of wanting to test their skills to the fullest, to improve upon their fighting and counter-moves; and to have bragging rights in their group.
After bowing and going through a ritual of honoring one's foe, the two remained standing with their weapons drawn.
Their swords had yet to connect, they kept their feet planted in the same positions since they had started, and the mood was entirely calm.
Typically, a sparring bout gave points to whoever landed hits in critical areas of the body. The more vital the area, the more points could be awarded. The matches would end, whoever reached one hundred marks first.
When their team did have the opportunity to spar, to practice and to train, being that these two were the only ones that used swords, they were very fond of battling each-other.
Both participants had drastically different fighting styles. The swords they carried were of a totally different caliber as well, and they were not the same height or weight.
Press was taller, heavier, and he was more accustomed to fighting with his straight sword that was sheathed in its cane, and this thin blade was a rapier. It gave him faster thrusting maneuverability, where the sudden slashing and blocking to deflect attacks, had many qualities that were superior to heavier blunt weapons.
However, it sacrificed strength for speed, and while it was lethal, it still required a skilled swordsman to strike vulnerable areas first.
Kimiko was comfortable dueling with the curved katana, made famous by the Japanese Samurai of feudal Japan. The long blade was sharp as the finest razor, it gave her a greater deal of distance from her opponent, and she was fine with utilizing one, but always carried two strapped to her back.
Press took up a more classical 16th century, French or Italian fencing stance; of one hand behind his back, and his more dominant hand held his sword in the upright position of a salute.
Kimiko on the other side, she was more comfortable and adapt with both hands on the hilt, and holding the blade directly in front of her mid-section. She devoted as many countless hours in the Kenjutsu ways, as she did in her time meditating.
The wooden swords they were practicing with, they were still deadly objects in the hands of a properly trained fighter, and it required a person to strain the importance, of utilizing both hands on the long hilt, just to hold it.
This was a disadvantage to Press, however being that he was a male and Kimiko was female, he had testosterone and his muscles were larger than hers, allowing him to endure and hold critical stances much longer than she.
They were still waiting to make the first strike, where in their heads they were already engaged in a fierce battle.
The California atmosphere only became hotter, as it was a clear and bright sunny day, with little to no clouds dotting the sky. They were just standing in place, with their eyes scanning for an opening.
Sweat began to pour beneath the armpits of both fighters, and trickle down their concealed faces. The female with the red scarf over her nose and chin, and the male with the Rorschach mask covering his entire head, where the black inkblots constantly shifted.
A large wave from the ocean came crashing into the shore, and almost reached their feet, yet the two duelists did not budge, or break their concentration. They stayed put, and neither was willing to become distracted or reveal any weakness.
"Come on Kimmi, why don't you make the first move." Press goaded her, as he readjusted his sword in both of his hands. "This can't go on forever."
Press had his back facing Titans Tower, while Kimiko had her back along a small out-cove of rocks. To their right the ocean, and to the left more of the beach. They could circle one another, and neither had the high-ground.
"Think I will allow myself to fall for a cheap trick such as that . . . guess again." she tilted her neck to loosen up.
"My arms are getting tired!"
She remained silent, her feet were dug into the sand and she did not offer any retort. Her weapon was directly in front of her, and she squeezed the firm and leather-bound handle.
The practicing blades were more helpful to someone who utilized the kendo style, and this gave the scarf wearing female, a far superior edge. It required both hands to hold the heavy weapon, and the male had to alter his stance.
"There is no way that I am going to be beaten by a girl. I have improved a whole heck of a lot!" Press jeered, trying to break her spirit through his chauvinistic ways.
The female shinobi snorted with disdain at his remark. "You like to boast so much about your skills, yet you have never once knocked me down."
He tightened his grip on the handle, and he pointed the blade towards her. "You are overconfident, and I will beat you!"
"Enough talk. Let us see, if you remember your lessons!"
The two fighters charged directly at one another, Press holding his sword high and above his head, ready to lay a heavy blow at the oblique slant.
Kimiko raced forwards with her weapon outwards and to her left, she was planning to duck and swipe for his knees. She stumbled a little at the start, but she quickly regained her footing and continued on.
Their boots sunk into the sand, the footprints behind trailed from their starting positions, and they were entirely committed to this tactical charge.
Everything felt to have slowed down for both combatants, the adrenaline was coursing through their bodues. When they finally reached the middle spot of the beach, the world was returned to its normal state.
Press had arrived split-seconds ahead of Kimiko, as he was the first to bring his weapon down to slash at her neck! Upon noticing this, her reflexes overtook her basic instincts, to pause and block the incoming blow.
She ducked and swerved low, her hair swayed as she moved like the elegance of a dancer, or an ice skater, catching themselves from tripping over their feet. It was like she was playing the limbo-game, then she raised the tip of her sword, to point at his neck!
The wooden weapons thudded as their edges connected, and the two fighters backed away, to then re-adjust and counter with new swipes. Kimiko and Press circled one another, both fighters leaned in, found that their move was countered, and they pulled back.
Now they were standing where the other had started from.
"Impressive." Kimiko rasped. "You managed to beat me to the center."
"I saw you trip back there, but you didn't let it cloud your thinking. You played into it." He glanced behind his left shoulder, nodding at her smudged footprints. "The sand is slick."
"The environment of battle can be anywhere, at any-time." Kimiko briefly closed her eyes. "It is of the mind of a true warrior, to be prepared to give ones life at any moment, however . . ."
"Knowing when and where to strike, that is the difference from living and dying." Press jumped in.
"Sun-Tzu, remarkable. I didn't think you had taken my offer seriously, when I gave you the book, The Art Of War."
Press arched his body forwards as he stretched. Then he continued with, "Well, the guy was a military genius from China hundreds of years ago. He never once lost a battle, even when all seemed bleak and utterly hopeless."
"Especially when all was going against him and his allies." Kimiko commented. "Even today, many centuries later and still his teachings have so much to offer."
"What can I do really, other than prepare for a fight like we are right now."
There was a pleasant breeze that hit the area of the beach they were standing at, and the trees further back swayed.
"There is a balance to life. To all things, we are but a part of the larger picture." Kimiko started speaking again, while remembering the teachings of her master. "All things are connected, and where there are those that lead, others shall follow."
Press nodded as he listened to this very valuable lesson, and he replied, "This weapon is an extension of myself. It is a part of me. I am a part of it."
"Very good. So then you have been paying attention to what I have been talking about." Kimiko partially bowed in respect.
"I don't like the weight of this sword, its just not . . . well its not my style. Fighting with two hands on the hilt, it just . . . it isn't me."
"By training with these wooden swords, your muscles and you as a sword-fighter, shall build up far greater endurance."
The young man looked over his weapon very closely, he was frustrated that he could not fight with something he carried, or that was compatible to his actual style.
"I don't understand." he remarked. "How does this help me though? Shouldn't I be using something closer to my rapier?"
Kimiko chuckled and she drew a line in the sand. "This . . . this is why."
Press leaned forwards, arching his head high to see what she was drawing.
"Is this a cheap trick or something?"
She drew another line, a little further ahead of where the first mark was, and then another, just ahead of the second. Kimiko pointed the wooden blade to the furthest line and she said, "To fight with what we already know, we learn nothing new. But, to train with something uneasy, uncomfortable and unbalanced, we grow."
Press tilted his fedora before speaking. "I get that, but what I mean is . . . well I don't fully understand what this has to do with my style, or my sword."
Kimiko smirked beneath her mask, yet the indentation of her lips against the crimson fabric were very real.
She planted the sword in front of her and she said, "Think over what you have told me. And what I have just said."
Press thought for a moment, and he was focused on her sword.
He was about to speak, but he stopped as the waves came crashing in, and he watched as the foaming salt water rolled into the furthest line she drew, and once it pulled back, the marking was faded. Then the wave came in a second time, smothering the next, and Kimiko observed him putting the lesson together in his head.
"You are trying to teach me something here . . . something about . . . what, the water, the ocean? I don't get it."
The waves rolled in and reached her feet, and still she did not move. The lines in the sand were now gone, and her weapon was a little more firmly planted into the damp Earth.
"You need to stop seeing with just your eyes. Look not what is in front, but what is left behind."
"Cryptic." He snickered. "You leave yourself defenseless, and without your sword? You want to teach me something but, what did you draw the lines in the sand for if it only washed away?"
Kimiko glanced to her weapon, "You still only see what is in front of you. The lines, they are but marks in the sand. The lines of what can be crossed by the waves of the ocean, then they are washed away. What is it that remains?"
Press was very perplexed at this point. He enjoyed sparring and testing his skills, yet the riddles and the philosophical debate, this was something he was ill-equipped to handle.
He took a deep inhaling breath before answering, "You say the lines are easily washed over, and that the sword is what is still there . . . that YOU are still there. Are you telling me that, the lines you drew were the representation of my lessons, of grasping things and the world around me?"
"Well David . . . you aren't as blind as you led me to believe after all. A little thick-skulled."
"Hey!"
Kimiko chuckled, "We are all blind. At first, but then we see it as you just told me."
Press tapped his sword in the palm of his left hand, he took a long time to study the end of it, and then his eyes fell upon her.
"You go through all of this . . . and now you want to say that the sword is not important at all?"
She shook her head in disagreement. "You must understand. The sword is but an extension of the self, where the true mark of a warrior is by how well he fights. Where the feat of a remarkable teacher, is not in the lesson of one fighting style over another . . . it is to embrace the nature of warfare at its core."
"What are you saying?"
"Be it sword, or lance, or spear, or fists. A truly masterful tactician understands the balance of all craft, and that even the tools that we are not accustomed to, we must learn to adapt in order to overcome."
Press scratched the back of his head. When he and Kimiko practiced they tended to use their own weapons, but this was on a different level.
"Pick up your sword." Press commented. "I don't want to fight an opponent without a weapon."
Kimiko shook her head in the familiar 'no' fashion. "This is as much of a training exercise for me. Do you think your enemies will show you mercy, if you are unarmed?"
Press squinted his eyes.
Kimiko held her hands out in front in another fighting stance, determined and unafraid.
There was a long silence that lingered, and then the Kunoichi tilted her head to the side. "Come at me David. I will take you down in several moves, where we shall continue this dance."
"Ha! That is a laugh!"
"Alright then. Five."
Press quickly became quiet and his laughter stopped. "You can't be serious."
The black haired shinobi closed her eyes, she inhaled a long and deep breath to then re-extend her arms and legs, into another tier fighting form. She was totally open to a direct strike against her body, and there was nothing to stop a blow.
Press was eager to prove himself, but he was not a fool. He knew she had a long history of a proud warrior lineage in her family, that she took all opportunities to improve upon herself, to test herself against the fiercest and most daunting of challengers.
To be sparring after their last bout, it felt like they each had learned something different, and it was a new experience all over again.
Press inched his right foot forwards, drawing a mark in the sand. "Well, if you insist, but don't say that I didn't warn you."
She merely flicked her right fingers to encourage him at her, and like the red flag to a charging bull in the arena, he bolted forwards!
The two fighters quickly met, there was a strange determination in both combatants eyes, and the sight of his comrade having decided to try the new attack without a weapon, a training weapon she utilized on a daily basis, this gave him a boost to his morale.
Press thrust the end of his blade towards her right exposed hip, and she vaulted towards his immediate left to avoid the attack; then kicking sand up and at his face, Press became disoriented!
"Hey! What the heck!?" Press uttered as he swung his sword in a jerking motion, that missed his target's head entirely.
"That's one!" She remarked, then she threw in a left punch towards his ear, and he swung at her to keep her on her toes!
Now being much closer to him, she somersaulted below his legs, landing a few punches to his kidneys and causing him to stumble. He slammed the blade into the sand to hold his balance, missing her again, and he panted for oxygen.
"That's three!" Kimiko rasped.
My God! She's actually pulling this off! He remarked in his head to then say out-loud, "You won't win!"
As he turned and waved his weapon back at her, knowing she was working the blindspots to her advantage, she was already a step ahead of him.
She crouched low, grappling with the handle of his sword, and then kneeing him in the gut. This caused him to stumble a little further.
Four! He gasped inside of his head, before barking in a rage, "This ends NOW!"
As he swiped left, then right and across her he only brought a deeper fatigue to his attacks, and while she swerved towards another corner on the beach, he went forwards with all his weight.
Kimiko hopped backwards to then lean in, as he raised his weapon high. She preformed a Crain-Kick to his chin, causing him to collapse backwards!
Everything happened in split seconds, as he was in the process of hitting her on the noggin, only to have raised his weapon too far back, and she made use of his momentum against him.
"That is five moves!" Kimiko said while pumping her right fist.
He was sprawled out on the sand, his sword was knocked away from him.
"That was a dirty trick!" Press rasped as he clutched at his skull. "I had you!"
"Did you now?" The red scarf wearing shinobi interlocked her arms, then she bent down and she helped him to sit upright. "Easy Press, you've taken quiet the hit to the head."
"That was some kick!" Press groaned while he readjusted his hat. "Oh, you . . . you really had me. Ouch."
The two teammates sat on the beach, and the sparring session had found its victor.
Kimiko turned behind her, glancing at Titans Tower and then she patted him on the back while saying; "There is much that you have overcome, nothing to be ashamed of."
Press glanced behind them to the famous landmark, and then he shook his head.
"I know, I know, I was overcompensating the strikes with your nimble countermoves."
There was a brief pause, and then Kimiko spoke up. "You now understand this important lesson. That even without my sword, without any gadgets or toys, I used the environment and your overconfidence against you."
"Yeah, yeah." He mumbled as he slowly got back to his feet. He looked up and behind them, to the famous building of the island.
"She is fine." Kimiko rasped as she knew exactly who he was thinking about. "She said she would call when she got to Steel City."
"Hmmm."
Press grabbed the wooden sword after mumbling, and he brushed himself off, where the sand that was coated against his clothing was shaken away. His sparring partner walked towards her weapon, still firmly planted in the sand, and she plucked it up.
Kimiko flicked the blade clean of sand, she put the wooden sword in the practice sheath along her hip. Then she said,"Alright, now lets go through the lower tier forms of countering close quarters with a high stroke, when you have over extended yourself."
(~)
Looking down at the two figures on the beach, that were focusing on their training, Terra Markov sat and watched the display inside the comfortable lounge area of Titans Tower.
She rested her chin onto her left hand, and she unleashed a deep sigh.
Terra wanted to leave, to have the ability to go where she desired at will. Oh, how she never thought she would miss being in school. All of her assignments, her homework, the studying for exams, and the many activities and programs she was involved with.
Everything was put onto hold, and there was no way of knowing when she could go back to this life.
"To think, that I would actually find my history class as something I would prefer to be at right about now." she then looked to the dog, willing to have a conversation with the large pet. "If you were to tell me a few weeks ago, about me being here, I would have said . . . no way! Not gonna happen." Terra deadpanned with a stern expression. "All of the tests, homework and curfew. Be home by no later than nine o'clock my guardians would say."
The German Shepherd tilted his head up as he yawned, then he kept his big brown eyes fixated on the ex-Titan.
"What?" Terra asked with a smirk, knowing she would get no response from the friendly hound. "I do hope that they are okay, wherever they are. This is just so, eh. It's just plain ridiculous! Holding me here like I'm some kind of hostage."
Sibs lowered his head back down, and he licked his front left paw.
"I know what you are thinking, I should just make a break for it. Right?" She threw her hands up, and then slapped her knees. "I know, we both have somewhere else we want to be, and yet . . . h-e-r-e we both are."
At first she kept her eyes closed, she tried to focus on the recent events that led her to this place. To concentrate on her breathing, in and then out, in and out as Raven had once shown her.
The blonde turned to glance at the main doorway, where the grim-reaper like presence of Raven seemed to linger in the room. It clung to her senses, where The Empath hid her emotions extremely well, yet the look in her eyes was of absolute frustration.
"Well, if I can just manage to remember exactly what happened, I think that could get me out of here faster. They don't seem to want me here anymore, than I want to be here either."
The kiss she and Beast Boy shared flashed across her thinking, and she quickly became rigid as a board.
There was a desperate attempt to grasp for some sense of why she had kissed him, and for so long, she could not understand more than the burning desire within herself, more than a simple thank-you would ever suffice.
"I shouldn't have done that. It was wrong, it was rushed, it felt . . . no." she tilted her neck upwards, and with confidence she said, "If it was so unwanted and undesired, why do I feel the need to see him again?"
Beast Boy and Raven were off somewhere else, everybody had left Terra to sulk and to ponder over things, and the more deeply she dwelled over her awakening at the hospital, to find Beast Boy once again ready for her, her heart began to beat quickly.
"He kissed me . . . where out of everybody to be so happy and interested in seeing me, of anybody it was him."
Terra felt her head spinning, her emotions were fluctuating as she relived the most recent of her days. There was an intense level of adrenaline that she had not expected to find, when she was in danger where Beast Boy had been so patient, and he had even offered to bring her back.
"He must feel some way about the whole thing. I should go to him and . . . yes. I will talk to him."
As she moved the wheelchair to face the door, a migraine that had hit her earlier, it suddenly came back. It caused her to squint her blue eyes and to halt, to reach up and grab her forehead.
The pain intensified, and the thumping of her heartbeat echoed in her ears, as she slouched back and everything turned to blackness.
(~)
-Flashback-
Terra found herself looking down at the ground, she was alone and the mighty shadow of the massive columns, from The Old Stadium stretched across the pavement.
There was nobody around at this time however, the team was away, and the blonde gradually looked up at the colosseum, to take in the impressive view.
For Terra, it was the very first time she had come here.
"I don't know why my brother would send a letter in the first place, it just doesn't make any sense." The skinny teenager rubbed her right elbow. "Something feels off."
The mysterious white envelope, that contained the wax sealed letter (M), on the front flap, brought forwards to her by an old man, was of a grave concern. She went straight home after he handed her the letter, and instead of opening it right away, she tossed it on her desk, and went about her routine, of getting homework done.
As the hours passed, with not being able to ignore the feverish itch; she tore open the top and pulled out the neatly folded paper. She began reading the contents from her supposed brother.
Her blue eyes became wide as she scanned the words, where the letter read:
My dearest sister,
There is little time with what I must say, where I do hope this letter finds you in good health, and with the company of close friends. I have been struggling to pick up the pieces, to lead our people forwards to a better future, as our family has lost so much. Following the passing of our father, the continued tragedies only plague The Markov legacy. The most recent upheaval of our country, at the hands of ruthless Baron Bedlam contesting for the throne, leaves our house in truly dire straights.
Being that there is little reassurance in so much, and after everything that you have been through, where father sending you to America, to avoid the ongoing struggle here, in Markovia, there can be any number of reasons for you to disregard this letter, and of my reaching out to you.
All that I ask, is that if you are willing to listen, to take this as an open invitation to meet me. I have sent a special envoy to deliver this letter, where I have been informed that you are currently living in Jump City. Through the many tribulations over the course of your years living abroad, hopefully these experiences have led you to understand your path.
Signed, Your brother,
Prince Brion Markov.
After reading through the letter, Terra found on the backside, the location that the meeting was to take place at, and the day.
Upon realizing that this note was indeed the real thing, the blonde was none-the-less totally shocked to learn that the day of the meeting, was to happen this evening.
After a quick internet search to keep up to date, on the local geopolitical struggles happening around the world, a number of news articles about the crisis taking place in the small European country, quickly caught her attention.
This part of her life, was the reason she had to flee as a child. Finally, after so long of hearing only rumors, upon gaining a sense of some normalcy and a new life free from the world she had known, the televised coverage of the global diplomats, from the United Nations General Assembly, all convening in New York, to discuss this very feud two weeks ago only made her become tense.
The bitter power-struggle over the crown, between her brother and the Baron, she felt her path was best away from the Royal Court. She had given up all claims of noble birth, when she immigrated to The United States.
"He told me to meet him here. At a sports arena no less, my brother, he is so predictable as he loves American Sports." Terra snickered as she crossed her arms.
While she stood inside the colosseum, the vehicles and traffic of the city was rather loud outside, and she walked closer towards the main entrance for the field, to find it was sealed shut.
"I don't get it. He wanted me to come here, and here I wait. I've been waiting for years to hear from him, and this is the best he can do?" Terra shook her head as she kicked a pebble along the ground. "So much for any family reunion then."
As she turned to leave, a distant sound lightly bounced across the tunnel, and the melody was something she had heard once before.
"Hello?" Terra called out. "Is somebody here?"
A grey cloud began to form about the walls, almost like she was walking into a swamp. It started off light, then it began to grow heavier.
"This is strange, what the heck . . . perhaps there is some sort of cleaning taking place and this is from the field?"
She coughed, as the air became a little thick. Then the whistle tune baited her to walk deeper into the tunnel.
With a gut reaction telling her to leave, the skinny blonde stopped before taking one more step. The strange fog began to cling along the walls, and she felt a little light-headed.
"Brion? Are you here?" Terra asked, only to be greeted with dead silence, and she coughed a little more.
"This is ridiculous." Terra stopped her fidgeting. "This whole thing stinks of something foul! If my brother truly wanted to meet me, why have me come all this way here? For what reason? My God, what is with this fog?"
The whistling started up again, and as she looked further down towards a back section of the great hall, beyond all of the vending booths and the various ticket stands which were locked down.
Something was very unnerving about this entire situation. Upon going all this way across the city, to meet at the empty Old Stadium, a strange knot like sensation twisted in her stomach, as she held a hand over her mouth.
"Will you show yourself already, and we can get this over with?" Terra demanded. "I received this letter, I've come a long way."
She was rewarded with the echo of footsteps, gradually getting closer. The fog seemed to fade out, and she listened closely as her heartbeat began to thump faster, and faster.
Still there was no response, other than the steady pitter-patter of feet against the hard floor.
"Who's there?" She asked more loudly than the first time, where instead of the footsteps stopping, they just continued getting closer to her.
"Brion? Wait you are. . . I know you!" Her voice rattled down the halls, carrying deeper and deeper, into the far reaches of the empty stadium, as a male figure started to appear.
"Your brother . . . is not here to meet us Miss Markov." A gentle and rasping voice spoke from the darkness.
"What is this? Answer me!" She shouted.
His shadow stretched closer towards her feet, and the sensation of a cool winter chill crept up her backside.
After a hesitation, she frowned and spoke again. "Tell me, who you are right now, and where my brother is. You had someone deliver me a letter."
"That I did." His voice was calm and methodical, almost hypnotic and the walls began to look like they were melting. "And like a moth to a flame, here you stand."
The sound of metal feet, clanking and hitting the floor forced her to quickly turn around, and more shadows gradually emerged from the exits, and corners of the grand hall.
The bright banners with the team logo swayed in the breeze overhead, and Terra felt her heart-rate increase. The flags morphed from gold with the banners of Jump City, into the sharp black letter (S), and the images of the past were burned into her memory.
Something was very wrong, and she did not wish to stay any longer, as she keeled over.
"No! This . . . this is all wrong." She coughed three more times, and she tried blinking her eyes while memories of the past became mixed with the present situation. "You are not supposed to be here! You died!"
The figure was becoming more visible now, his metallic armor breaking through the shadows and the mist about them. It was almost like he was not even human, but Terra knew who he was, and a lump formed in her throat as she was absolutely horrified.
As she turned, battle droids and a variety of sladebots, swarmed all around every exit and pathway! She could not escape!
"No!" Terra shrieked. "You won't take me back, I refuse!"
As she turned to flee, she felt her legs buckle and she collapsed to the floor, while the masked man crept ever closer.
"Leaving so soon? Pity . . . this little reunion of ours was supposed to go on for a little bit longer, but perhaps this is for the best." The man answered, his dark armor and his muscular figure towered over her crumpled body.
"You . . . you can't be . . . no! NO!"
"I know every inch of you, of your mind and your past. You may have run from who you were, but you cannot escape from me."
The last thing she could see, was the old man who had given her the letter, he had at last appeared while removing his own gas-mask. He turned while looking down, and he said, "Hmmm. It would seem, that the dosage for this particular mixture, takes approximately several minutes to take effect."
"Perhaps we should increase the levels? After all, we are experimenting here with what works on meta-humans." The one eyed armored man rasped in response. "Good work, it would seem Operation Swift-Strike, is going to be much more effective than originally plotted."
"Very good sir."
"Bring the girl . . . there is a larger part for her to play in this strategy yet."
-End Of Flashback-
(~)
Terra jolted awake, and she was standing out of the wheelchair! Sweat was pouring down her face, and her knuckles had turned white as snow.
"Slade!"
She could not believe it, the answer to how she got the letter in the first place, it was a ruse to get her out of hiding. She was a maneuverable piece on the battlefield, for his sick games of the past, and even now she felt that he had used her once more.
There was no consent, no giving in of her own free will, she was blind-sided by lies and trickery.
"He planned this . . . the whole thing . . . the letter . . . my return to Titans Tower . . . even my injuries?" Terra was choked-up on the words, and the rage began to seethe deeply inside of her.
Her body temperature began to increase, and she felt for the first time in her life, that through everything that led to this very moment, she was right where she had to be.
"The others, they need to know! I have to tell them . . . I need to tell them of this entire ordeal so they . . . so we can stop him."
As she looked at her raised right fist, it suddenly dawned on her that she was no longer in the wheelchair. She had been severely injured, where through all the odds and probabilities that she would require the assistance of the chair just to get from place to place for the coming weeks, Terra was standing!
"I need to tell The Titans!" she started moving towards the door, but suddenly stopped while the German Shepherd looked up. "Who do I go to first with this though?"
Terra thought about Robin being locked away in his room, surely this was the best person to go to, yet he had been so devastated by the numerous attacks and the breaking-down of his team, that in all probability he was trying to catch up with sleep.
Starfire and Avatar had both raced off to the Evidence Room, where they could be a better and more reasonable duo, than just The Titans Leader.
"That's it. I'll go to Starfire and Avatar."
Upon reaching the door, Sibs, the proud and large canine barked, where the blonde turned and smiled at him. Terra slowly limped her way out the main doors as they slid opened, and she began her trek towards the Evidence Room.
(~)
Beast Boy and Raven were in the middle of a tender embrace, they were laying on her bed, and she was stroking his hair.
He could not believe it, the girl he had admired and carried deep feelings for, she had at long last awakened from her own dormant state. Like a caterpillar in its chrysalis form, emerging into the world as a magnificent butterfly, the love that had blossomed between these two Titans had at last emerged.
They were resting peacefully, during all this chaos and ongoing threats to be countered, even in this most unpredictable of times, The Grey Empath and the green changeling were afforded a respite.
Still, something was bothering Beast Boy, and it was festering inside of him. He was a very honest young man, so true to others as well as within himself. It was a weakness that could easily become exploited, if discovered by an enemy such as Slade.
"You are worried." Raven looked at him.
"How can you tell?" Beast Boy asked as he lifted his head up.
The cloaked girl shook her head in mild frustration, similar to how she would act to his antics and pranks; before she answered, "I don't have to read your thoughts, but I do know when you are not feeling yourself. You never were a good poker player."
Beast Boy sat up in the bed. He glanced behind him, and she stroked his back gently.
"You know, you can tell me anything." she encouraged him.
"It's not that . . . it's . . . well, it's a few things actually that I just can't seem to get rid of."
"This isn't about Slade. Or The Titans East, or Cyborg's departure, is it?" Raven paused, then she sat fully upright and she stretched her arms before saying, "There is not going to be a sense of . . . well, what Robin and Starfire have. Is that what is bugging you?"
"Honestly, that is not even on my radar." Beast Boy chuckled, and he caused her to adjust herself to sit right alongside him. "We both have gone through the ringer."
She released a sigh from her lungs, and she glanced to the floor. "For too long, we keep pushing ourselves, beyond so much of what we can feel to comprehend, until it is past the breaking point."
"Like the ocean."
"What?"
He smirked as he looked towards the window. "There is a fierceness in the pull of things so vast, so unbelievably expansive, that it overtakes all things. It's like the ocean."
"I didn't take you to be one to recite poetry."
"Neither did I." he chuckled, and after reaching down he clasped her wrist. "You have to know that this . . . with us, that I do see so much potential and a bright glow that I feel with only you."
"Beast Boy-"
He closed his eyes, and she became silent. After taking a deep breath, he continued his explanation. "You are very important to me. And I know that you know, but there is something that I have to explain. Something, that is not easy to . . . but I have to say it."
Raven was sitting upright and focused in at his complete attention now. As another lingering hush sifted between them, the grey girl simply nodded without saying a word.
"This is not where I thought I . . . I mean . . . this is all so fast and . . ." Beast Boy stumbled, he was struggling to get the proper start that he had envisioned ever since the two had kissed.
The shapeshifter wanted to come clean with everything. He loved Raven, and his honest nature was hounding him to explain what had taken place, at the hospital. The moment she left, and Terra had awakened.
Beast Boy gulped, and he started back up. "There is something that you have to understand. Of what occurred recently, and it has been tearing me down."
"Breathe Beast Boy, take a moment. Whatever it is, we have gone through so much to get to this point, that I don't see any reason why things are . . . well, whatever it is . . . you don't have to worry."
He looked to the floor, avoiding her eyes. "Do you trust me?"
"What?"
Beast Boy looked to the ceiling, and then he faced her.
"Of course." Raven answered.
"Do you love me?"
"Beast Boy. I don't know what this is, but I told you before. Why do you need me to say it again?"
"I just . . . just tell me the truth right here and now."
There was a pause.
"Please." he begged.
"I don't know what has gotten into you. Barely a few moments ago, things were so easy and open. Now, even if I do say this, what will it prove that you don't already know?"
"So you do love me then?"
Raven stood up. With her hands planted on her hips, she shook her head from side to side. "If I do this, you promise to tell me what is going on here?"
"Only once you say it."
"Does this have anything to do with the beast?"
"Kind of."
She stared at him, her stern and unbroken frown was cold, and it cut through him like a hot knife, slicing through butter.
He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Well, yes and no really. But it is only part of things. Some of it has to deal with what you and I already know, but also what else I need you to understand."
"Garfield Mark Logan, I . . . Rachel Roth . . . love you."
There was another long silence.
"Now then." Raven was the first to speak. "With that out of the way, can you please tell me what is going on?"
"The only way about this is just coming clean with it. And for so long, it felt . . . well . . . right I guess."
Raven clutched at her left shoulder, as a sudden chill trickled up her back. The difficulties of what she could decipher were being laid out before her, and like all of her novels, the books and predictable love stories that she had ever known, she knew, she was beginning to understand what this was about.
She did not have all of the pieces, but she did not require them to see where this conversation was going. Ever since she noticed Terra in the Common Room with him, and their prolonged moments during the party, it was impossible for her not to notice.
Raven began walking away, her head was bowed and her heart was heavy with sorrow. With the way everything was currently, she no longer felt the need to tip-toe around the subject, and she blurted out, "Something happened between you and Terra. Didn't it? Back at the hospital."
"Yes. Wait, how did you know?"
"When we all left to head to The Gold Depository . . . I should never have left."
"You had to though." Beast Boy tilted his head, her back was still facing him. "A job had to be done, and nobody had any idea as to Terra waking back up when she did."
"Beast Boy." Raven turned after calling him. "Tell me everything. From the moment we left, to the moment we all came back here, to Titans Tower."
"The whole thing?"
"Do you want to explain this to me or not?"
"But every little detail?"
Raven interlocked her arms, and with a stern scowl forming, the green changeling raised his hands in defense.
"Alright, fair is fair, I'll tell what I remember."
Silence lingered, things were very quiet and the two waited patiently to prepare themselves. After a few moments had passed, Beast Boy inhaled a deep breath to calm his nerves, one last time. Then, he took the plunge, and he revealed all that had transpired.
The time felt to be dragging, yet surprisingly the changeling kept a quick pace and he divulged all that had occurred, and how Terra and he had in fact kissed. Everything was coming to light, and during the explanation, Raven said not a single word.
Her face had the same expressionless look as before, and she blinked a few times, but allowed her dear friend and romantic partner, to explain everything in detail.
"-and that's when you came back into the Common Room, and it all led to . . . well, this." Beast Boy unleashed a deep sigh, unsure of where things would turn from here.
He was confused with so much and how she, his now girlfriend would take this matter. However, the elated feeling of relief washed over him, the comfort that this was finally off his chest, and he had come clean made him feel like he had been baptized.
Now I get why it was so difficult for Robin, to break the news about Falcon when I first woke up.
Raven still had yet to say anything. The entire time he told his story, she refused to interrupt him, she let him recount the entire series of events, and she had her back facing him once more.
She did not turn, her shadow felt to be the only comfort she could muster. The cold dark of the room was encircling her, the dim light from the candles created the perfect mood for how she felt, detached and in a spiral of distaste for so much of the world.
Raven clenched her fists, and she looked upwards to the ceiling.
"Twisted fates! The lot of my fortunes, how is it that I come so far, and yet from everything that I have lost, yet still . . . still I lose everything. What I was, what I hoped to bring me peace, all is thrown asunder, tossed aside, left to crash onto the rocks of deeper misery!" Raven monologued, still with her back turned to him.
"What?"
She sighed. "If you only understood the true poetry of my favorite musical composer."
Beast Boy wheeled himself closer to her, and he reached for her right hand.
"Raven." The injured youth cleared his throat. "This has to deal with Terra and me, and you and me. But let me be absolutely, one-hundred percent clear with you. My heart . . . is yours."
The Empath turned slowly, and she reached up to stroke his face, where he smiled and continued to speak.
"I did not know where things would lead . . . I . . . I could not and I am struck by such guilt over my actions. That was a very touching speech you made, who said it?"
Raven pulled her hand back.
"She kissed you." Raven deadpanned.
"Well . . . yeah."
"And you kissed her back?"
Beast Boy stuttered for a moment, unsure of where things could develop. Now he was in unfamiliar waters, and the tension felt to be tightening around his waist. Rising like the ocean, that was steadily creeping upwards, about to drown him.
After clearing his throat, he shifted his green eyes to the floor, and he slouched in his posture. "There is no denying that things were difficult, for a long time between us Raven. For all of us, and I didn't seek out anything from her. Things sort of happened as they did, and it felt . . ."
Raven was brought back to facing him, and her arms were crossed.
"What?" The Grey Empath asked.
Beast Boy breathed in deeply, before he answered. "It felt like confusion, it was warm, yet cold at the same time. It was rushed . . . it was like she and me were trying to understand each other after all this time, where everything was happening so quickly that it was a mess of things."
"Let me understand this. You . . . YOU kissed her?"
Beast Boy gulped. "Look, she kissed me first, and I'm glad that she did because-"
"You're glad? GLAD!?"
"It wasn't what I . . . you aren't . . . see, let me explain here. Will you?"
"The true plight of what we all seek, is that we hope to reach fulfillment in ones life, and for it to be denied to us . . . heartbreaking."
Beast Boy reached out again, touching her fingertips before speaking. "I had to tell you what happened. And that is everything. I just want to know, well, I can see why this frustrates you, but there is always more than one side to every story."
Raven let her fingers slip away, and she refused to close the gap between them.
There was a very long pause, and then Raven finally rasped.
"I think you should go."
He focused on the element that perhaps, things only needed a brief respite to cool over. Raven was not one to hold onto extended grudges, or at least, she was understanding and compassionate when it came to delicate matters such as this. Right?
"Alright. I . . . I'll go." Beast Boy nodded.
She did not turn, she remained standing with her back to him as the door slid open, and he stopped.
"So . . . who was it you quoted before? That musical composer?"
"Beethoven."
The door slid closed, leaving Beast Boy and Raven separated, to ponder where they would take things in their still undecided relationship.
(~)
The cold black of an abyss came to life, as a hissing of a subway car rattled and careened down the underground track. Sparks were flying and jetting, from the spinning wheels sputtering against the rails.
Citizens aboard the train paid little attention to the view outside, as identical passenger cars sped by at an alarming speed. At most hours of the day, Jump City was a very active place, and like any metropolis, there were many means of getting from one place to another.
The subway was a popular method for many, and it offered a quick method of transport to avoid traffic jams, and the crowds up on the surface.
A rat scurried along a pipe, squealing and sniffing as the maze-like tunnels rattled and shook. The constant vibrations, and hissing from the subway, was a dangerous environment for any to scavenge around.
As the furry rodent hurried to the ledge, it overlooked two of the long silver cylinder-like trollies that were passing the other, at extremely close range. One of the vermin's species squealed ahead, that it finally located something, and six of its kind clumped together.
Through the void of the forbidding and eerie tunnel, a neon green glow was being emitted from beneath a door along the wall. It was a maintenance shaft, and what the rodents could detect through all of the noise, and commotion behind them, the scent of some precarious food scraps laying nearby, caused the rats to gather.
They wasted little time, to pick at and scamper over the discarded remnants of strewn garbage, and pizza boxes, having being left upended. Cheese and a few slices of pepperoni were still sticking to the cardboard, and the rats that picked up the horrid decaying scent, started to gnaw at the remnants.
There was a sudden flash, followed by a hissing noise. A loud scream echoed in the darkness, as a man was startled by the dropping of a massive canister.
A thick cloud of green smoke rose upwards, and it smothered the protective material of a masked man, where he coiled on the floor gasping at his throat. Somehow the gas had worked through his breathing filters, and it had gotten into his suit!
A nearby scientist, in similar attire hurried over to cover the lid, as three more rushed over to their comrade to pull him to safety.
"Careful you idiots! These tanks all must be accounted for! One wrong move, one slip up and it will be the doom of us all!" A Chinese man barked at his goons from the corner, while waving his right hand over the railing. "Honestly, getting good help is a true challenge."
Two of the white suited workers turned, as their heads were covered in heavy gas masks like all that stood here, and they stopped to catch their balance. Their red goggles flashed in the dark.
"What of this?" Came the voice of a man kneeling next to the crumpled figure.
"Who?" The voice of the ruthless leader questioned, with his back turned.
"Him." Pointed the kneeling scientist, as the body of their cohort was laying unconscious at his feet.
With only a partial glance, he flicked his wrist as he looked away. It was without pity, or remorse. "Bring that canister to the others. We cannot afford any more delays. We are already behind schedule!"
"And what of him?"
The Head Scientist toyed with his mustache, then he shrugged his shoulders without any emphasis on the well being for his own men. "Load his body aboard the ship. Nobody must know what we are planning."
Following a sudden readjustment, two from the side walked slowly and carefully forwards. They picked up the canister that had been successfully resealed, and they carried it through sliding doors.
Behind them, a pair wearing the exact same gear and masks, picked up their fallen comrade, and they went on their way.
"That makes forty canisters even." Came the voice of one of the others standing next to their leader. "We are making good progress."
The Chief Scientist scoffed. "Progress, pshhhhaw! There is more to be done, and this current delay has cost us valuable time."
Another masked member of the team approached from the other room. "We are doing everything we can sir."
"These trials are proving most . . . taxing. We have lost five men yesterday. Three more today, and the newest batch is just as clumsy as the first." Came the voice of the head scientist that had scolded the group. His tall headgear and red goggles concealed his face, while the thin black mustache were the only clear features.
He walked towards a long desk by the wall, and he leaned forwards while his fingers typed away at the keyboard. The computer revealed a white glow, as the rest of his group went about their various jobs.
"Professor!" came the voice from a startled scientist.
"What is it?"
"We are receiving a transmission."
The Head Scientist gulped. He knew who this was, and he was not ready to deliver the report just yet.
(~)
The creaking and moaning of the rusted cogs and gears, within The Great Clocktower clicked methodically. The ropes and pulleys continued swaying back and forth, they were dangling in mid-air, suspended from the weights they were hoisting.
All of this constant motion, was causing the massive metal hands to turn along the outside of the glass windows. Showing the inhabitants the time, all the while, a dark and mysterious evil was hard at work, plotting to raise the coastal city to the ground.
"Sir." came the quiet voice from the faithful butler, as he approached his master resting upon his throne.
"Yes, what is it?"
". . . It would appear that The Professor is trying to delay in your request."
There was a lingering silence, as Slade remained unmoved, sitting with his right hand propping up his chin.
Wintergreen cleared his throat before continuing; "This project is of the upmost of importance."
"True." Slade's eye narrowed. "Allow the transmission to go through."
The white suited man gave a partial bow, and he stepped away from the jumbo-screen in the center. With a click of the remote, the signal came, while the mist and darkness concealed everything about the Mastermind.
A single light protruded downwards, shining across his helmet, casting the rest of his body into shadow.
"Professor Chang." Slade deadpanned. "You have been given a solid month in advance to finish the task. What is the current status?"
*Yes. The task is well underway, and our agreed target is soon to be met.*
Without missing a single line, Slade immediately picked up a sense of fear that was being stifled on the other end.
Things were already uneasy between these two, the partnership was more of a forced 'repayment' after The Brotherhood Of Evil's collapse in Paris. With Slade having dispatched his commandos to infiltrate, and to retrieve a certain few that had been flash-frozen from his very machine.
Professor Chang was grateful to be back in Jump City. However, when it came to dealing with Slade, there was always a catch and like most Criminal Mastermind's, the assurances of any alliance were deceptive tactics.
"Impressive." Slade's eye did not flinch, and the imposing figure high on his throne made him appear much larger, and far more menacing. "Perhaps I was wrong to assume your skills were not up to the challenge."
*Well then, after all this time and the continued patronage, that you have so generously gifted, would you expect anything less?*
"Be careful with your words, Professor." Slade now pointed at the screen. "You have proven most resourceful in the past, but your pitiful delays of late, have given me second thoughts to our partnership."
The Chief Scientist gulped, as he pulled back from the monitor on his end.
Chang stuttered for a moment, to be silenced immediately with the instant 'thud' of the one eyed man's right fist against his armrest.
Slade collected his thoughts during this pause, and he continued with, "You were not freed from your icy prison in Paris, for a simple partnership with me."
*But I . . . I have completed the orders at your request. Roughly forty barrels are ready and have been prepped for transportation. There have been unexpected issues, delays that have cropped up I'm afraid.*
Slade's eye appeared to curl with a rage. "Disappointing."
*But, but, but I need more time!*
"You have but one task. One." Slade's deadpan became more intimidating, and he continued without any chance for rebuttal. "You have twenty-four hours to finish the task."
Professor Chang gulped. *Surely I can be allowed a little more leeway, the total number of calculations is still being measured as we speak and -*
Slade leaned forwards to continue speaking. "You have one day. From what I deduce, working against the clock, it is an outstanding method for pushing oneself, to the limit."
The screen faded to static, then to black, as the transmission was deliberately cut-short by Slade.
Wintergreen approached from the side once more, and he stood holding a serving tray, and a pot of hot tea ready to be offered.
"Should he not be given a few more days sir?" The faithful and old servant, began to pour the steaming drink into the cup. "The Titans know nothing, and even if they were to piece together a story, it will only lead to a dead-end."
Slade clasped both of his hands below his chin. Without turning or confronting his most trusting aid, he shook his head prior to responding.
"No. There is no longer time to delay. Phase four has been run to its intended conclusion. Robin has called for reinforcements as I suspected he would, but I had no idea from where. Now, with The Titans East having been dealt with, our forces can strangle any attempt at escape."
"Perhaps it is too early? At least until the results are close to your desired goals from The Professor's end?"
Slade turned and began to maneuver soldiers on the chessboard beside his throne. He had taken many of his opponent's pieces off of the table. The four pawns being The Titans East, were now gone. The four others represented The Squadron Members, and they were splintered.
He looks up to where the screens are, and the Mastermind swiftly moves over a white knight, (representing Cyborg) to a far side that a black bishop (representing Bane) is already at. Then he moves a white bishop (representing Raven) to the far opposite end, while maneuvering a few of his black pawn pieces (Two-Face and Killer Frost) encircling her. Without delay, he positions the white queen (representing Starfire) to a far corner, while the black queen (representing Blackfire) stands poised to fight her. The remainder of his pieces close around the white king (representing Robin).
"The board is set. The pieces are moving." Wintergreen commented, as another monitor beside them revealed Cyborg, speeding further away from Jump City on the open highway.
Slade rasped. "This is my ultimate masterpiece yet, and Robin with his remaining forces will be unable to stop any of this from happening. True, they may find the strength to rally on, to push forwards to fight me, but it will matter not."
"Indeed." Wintergreen acknowledged. "They may be able to counter, and dare I say, overcome a few of the threats. But, they cannot stop all that you have planned."
The slick-suited majordomo placed the cup on the plate, across the armrest. Without saying another word, he bowed, awaiting for further instructions.
Slade finally looked up, to area the butler was alongside, and he raised a clenched fist in triumph for what was about to occur.
"In less than two days time, our rivals, and this wretched city, will at long last . . . be destroyed."
{{End Of Scene}}
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Author's Note:
Where shall I begin?
There is need for an explanation on my behalf, where you, the readers deserve to know what has caused my absence for these past several months. To put it plainly, there has been a great deal of things, various struggles that have transpired from my last chapter, towards the ending of 2019 and into this current year, outside of the site and in my real life.
College assignments and classes have been rather extensive, work is and remains a critical aspect to pay the bills, and what moments that are available in 'free-time' can be hard to craft this story, as I am a busy bee. I recently lost two loved ones, less than two months apart, and that hit me rather hard.
Simply put, for those who have been on FanFiction or any site across the world-wide-web will tell you, things can get put on hold, as there can be unpredictable and difficult hinderances that cause a person to stumble. (Look into my profile page).
I have greatly enjoyed being a part of this wonderful, and engaging community, for the many years that I have put into it, and I sincerely apologize for the delay to reach this milestone. Where this day, February 26th, 2020 is the 10th Anniversary of my posting INNER DEMONS to this site!
It is hard to believe that on February 18th, 2010 I would have begun the journey that has taken me to this point here, and as such, I am still invested, and curious to see where my story INNER DEMONS can develop along with all of you, the readers and fans.
Here is where you, can actually have a way to further develop this story. I would like to keep posting a new chapter once a month, and I can understand where there would be so much frustration to being directed at a creator, (such as myself) for not being more frequent with their craft.
Writing is a delicate balance of many elements, as those who are mature enough to understand, will know. There is a lot that goes into these chapters, and I don't like to ask, but I do need your support. To keep going at the pace for one chapter a month, any feedback at all makes this journey more enriching, as I like to hear what you, the fans and readers think. Subscribe to the story, spread the word of this ongoing tale for others to give it a read, post a review, and that will be a major boost to things.
Thank you for taking the time to read my story, for giving me a chance for these past ten years, where I hope my explanation here can offer some understanding. For those who have recently lost loved ones, my condolences to all.
(~)
~~We are here but for a fraction of time. We each have a unique role to play, to leave ripples in the lives around us, of the people we know and love. The memories we make, the struggles and the battles, the defeats and victories are but part of the grander journey that is life. We all take a bow when our final scene is over, the curtain will fall, our stories will end, to allow new players a chance to take their part, on the grand stage that is life. Mortals we may be, and time is ever fleeting, but each new sunrise brings a chance for renewed strength, perseverance, and growth.
As hard as it can be to part with those we have lost, the memories we have are what keeps us alive.
While it may not be much, but if the ripples I leave here, can offer some sense of comfort or joy, then I have done something that makes me truly happy, and at peace. We shall all pass onwards into that long deep sleep, and beyond the vast unknown, yet the one truth I do take strange solace in, is that through my writing, a part of me shall remain for others to meet. Long after I have parted from your company.~~
~~T.M.O~~