---Unknown Location, Unknown Time---
Javier gasped and choked as if the air were sawdust. The room was white, incredibly white. So white, it could be mistaken for a mirror for he could see himself. He was the darkest thing in the large room, square room and he was only slightly tanned. He was dressed in white too: white t-shirt, white shorts. He had been stripped of any possessions, and his most valuable, his daughter. He noticed on his shoulder, in the white walls, was a black logo that read M.C.C. Underneath in small print was the following: 'Mutant Control Centre'.
Theme tune:
---Tokyo, 12:09 am---
The following night, above Elliott, a neon-lit hellish red sign flickered 'Ku Kon'. The legendary bar of Tokyo; the one gossiped about by tourists. They mixed sensational cocktails that could supposedly change lives. Elliott had no interest in drinking tonight. With a newspaper article in his back pocket, the X-ring in his front, and with a single brave step, he enters the bar.
It was a crowded night. The bar was loosely lighted with a dull yellow. Elliott had difficulty isolating anybody's facial features; they all tended to blend in the drunk darkness. One particular lady caught his eye. She sat comfortably in a yellow armchair, cross-legged. She woreMost of the people in the bar were local, but Elliott was unsure of this unusual woman. She had hints of Japanese features; olive skin, slim eyes, soft cheeks, raven black hair that fell to her shoulders. They way she held herself indicated she had other originations. She drunk with others two who all seem much more intoxicated than her, tucked away in the corner of the room.
Eliott stuttered at the bar,
"who is the owner" but the bartender replied with the local tongue, and Elliott did not understand. Rowdy Japenese men bumped his shoulders violently. Elliott became socially nervous and couldn't find his words. He searched for them, but could not find them. Meanwhile, the bartender seemed vexed at Elliott's presence. Elliott's eyes fell to the bar that was wet with alcohol. What was he to say? He couldn't speak Japanese. He was beginning to doubt himself and his entire journey out here.
But actions speak louder than words, he thought. He gently pulled the newspaper article from out of his pocket, unravelled it, and displayed it to the owner. The article was titled "Woman in Tokyo Bar 'Ku Kon' Saves Life Without Touching Victim". The bar attendant seemed unimpressed by the English title, but once his eyes analysed the photo, his pupils dilated. He drastically threw his arms in the air, ripped the newspaper article in half during the process. The Japanese man leant over the bar, grabbed Elliott by the scruff of the shirt, and spat Japanese phrases at him. Elliott could tell they were insults simply by the tone. He backed off nervously, knocking arms and drinks to the floor while the bar tended still hurled abuse. He tripped, hurdled to the floor in reverse, and was caught by the strange lady's lap that he noticed earlier.
"Ahhh!" She yelped. She threw Elliott off her body, made a stand and looked down at him. Elliott could almost see up her tight red dress. Her mouth opened widely, ready to verbally abuse, and then her eyes became glued to something beside his waist. Something shiny and of pure silver. Her eyes were an endless blue, like the ocean. They could have easily been mistaken for purple. Elliott felt uncanny at her possessed ocean eyes. He followed her eyes down to beside him and saw the ring, engraved with an X. It had rolled out from his pocket, and he snatched it back as if it was the last ring on earth.
"Come with me," she spoke plainly. While she composed herself, which consisted of her rubbing her red dress down and saying farewell to the drunks at her table, Elliott jumped back to a standing position by her side.
"Come with me," she repeated. She walked elegantly through the mass of bodies to the exit. Elliott followed hesitantly, but also curiously. There was a strange bump on her left hip, highlighted by the tight red dress. Elliott thinks it was a pistol.
---Phoenix 8:03 am---
The next morning, the room was dim. A tender haze filled the apartment, tinted yellow by the early rising sun. Evan, almost unconscious, lay still on the couch. His muscular body was stretched from one end to the other like a plank of wood. His ears could sense some noise coming from the kitchen, then from the bedroom, then from the bathroom. Then he could see the haze, the yellow, and feel the dreadful pain coming from his forehead. He raised two fingers and gently brushed the surface of his fresh wound and then recalled the stitches he received overnight.
But the strange rattling noises still concerned him.
"Aria?" he called, wanting to put a reason to the noise. Following this, a loud thump hit the ground in the bedroom. Aria wheeled out a suitcase. She stood by the window, at a distance from him. The sunlight encompassed around her, like a holy figure.
"I'm going," she spoke stubbornly, "I'm going, and I'm not coming back!"
"But Aria!" And at this point, he realised all of her property in the living room was taken. Taken by her.
"But nothing! You promised Evan."
"But," he began to whimper, "I need you Aria, I can change! Please!"
She no longer responded to him. She concentrated her eyes to the door of the apartment, ready to never see him again. She stormed past him, and he witnessed for the first time the cut on her cheek from the strange occurrence the night before. Her cheek was red with blood and crudely healed with more stitches than he had himself. It would probably scar.
"I'm so sorry, Aria!" He begged and pleaded. Despite his booming headache from the wound, he raised his head and tugged at her arm like a child, preventing her from leaving. His face and chest transformed white with sudden illness of her leaving, "I know I'm a bad man! I know, but please! I love you! Don't leave, just help me! I need help! I need you with me."
Aria reconsidered, still staring ahead. Once again, her cold appearance was shining through. Evan wasn't sure why he loved her, why he needed her. Aria was often not affectionate, but rather cold in character. He hardly knew who she was. She pulled herself from his grip, spun around, and held eye contact with him. Her eyes penetrated his own as if they were knives.
"My father beat me," she spoke plainly, "he punched me. Made me bleed. He jumped on my ribcage once, until I could hardly breathe."
She paused for a moment, to let the message sink in.
"Until one day I screamed 'No. No more daddy.' and I hurt him like he hurt me. I thought I was happy when he left until my mother abandoned me too. Only because I was different. I was only 16."
"I- I had no idea."
"I never let my father touch me again. I'll be damned if you do." She grabbed her suitcase by the handle and continued to leave the apartment.
"I've said too much already," and slammed the door behind her. Evan would cry out, but his words had left him, suffocated by the tension that now invaded the room.
---Unknown Location 11:00 pm---
Cree had been sat in silence for hours, enduring every bump and uncomfortable position the fast, rackety train put her in. They had left Salt Lake City hours ago, on a cargo train to an unknown destination. Cree had no particular emotions about the journey, nothing suggesting the direction they were heading was bad... or good. Preston, whom she looked too as a little brother, was curled in a soft ball, not disturbed at all by the train's motion. Occasionally she would check him; his scales down his neck were fading and the orange glow in his eyes and neck had gone. It was the cool down period. Soon she would have the normal Preston back.
Then Cree got a sensation. A familiar one, but one she couldn't explain. The closest thing she could relate it to was excitement, but it wasn't excitement. An urge was pushing her to the roof of the train and she could sense achievement already. She tiredly pulled herself off the floor of the rusty cargo carriage and steadied her balance. She gently pulled her black, beaded her behind her head and climbed the coal pile that she had been positioned against. At the ceiling, there was a hole into the dark night sky that her slender, young body was able to squeeze through.
Her hair reflected the moonlight across the desert. She gazed across the landscape, but it was all so calm. The stars had never been so bright. The desert never so orange. The air never so peaceful. She had never felt this much as one with the...
"AY!" A barmy, raspy old voice calls to her. Cree, startled, rapidly spins to see the owner of the voice, meanwhile, her beads and braids flying around in the wind like loose snakes.
"What are ye doin' here?" The old lady calls. But Cree was in shock. To see an old, witch-like lady sitting cross-legged on the top of a fast moving train was an unexpected sight. Cree was questioning, however, whether her instinct was guiding her to...
"Chrysalis! Ah! Ah Ah! That's me name," The old lady chuckled violently. Cree stood plainly, with wide eyes.
"Well just stand there then, ye daft betch!" the lady shouts. She stands, but not securely. Her legs were brittle and weak. "I know what you are, girl."
"What- what does that mean," Cree replies. The night carries her voice to Chrysalis who stands at the opposite end of the carriage roof.
"I saw the boy! I saw 'im with me own two eyes!"
Cree blinked rapidly as if her own body was trying to reject the possibility of somebody knowing their powers. But Cree could not think of an explanation. But Cree stood strong. Maybe she could scare Chrysalis away, scare her silent and prevent her from spreading rumours. Cree did not want to be captured by the M.C.C.
"What do you want? Why are you here?" Cree demands.
"What you should be askin'," the old lady replies, "is what do YOU want? Why are YOU here?"
This strange lady had captured her attention. Although lunacy possessed her thoughts, she still had the sense to her words. Cree took them into consideration. What did Cree want? She wanted acceptance. A family. Why is she up here? Because her instinct told her so. Her 'gift' told her so. Maybe fate wanted Cree to meet this lady. The old lady wobbled carelessly to Cree.
"Like I says," she whispers to Cree, "I know what you are, girl. But don't be afraid."
---Unknown location, Unknown time---
In a rage, Javier began violently punching the walls, kicking them even. He ran in hysteric circles, pleading, raging, crying for his daughter back. Back into his arms one more time. He used to work for the police station in Los Angeles; he knew where he was. Well- not where, exactly. But what this place was, and what they did to people like him and his daughter.
He screamed and slammed to the floor as a burning sensation strangled his skin.
"Relax, Mr. King" a gender-neutral voice spoke through some device he could not locate in the room.
"Give me my daughter!" He screamed. Although cooperating, Javier was shouting with all his power- demanding even. But the voice did not reply and Javier sunk back into a deep rage around the room. He wanted to use his mutant powers, but he needed a source. A flower, a sapling, anything organic. But the room had been sterilised of any life.
"Relax, Mr. King" the voice called again, in the exact same tone. The burning sensation repeated its self, flowing through his veins rapidly until he collapsed in agony and defeat.
---Philadelphia 6:01 am---
Sam's eyes took in the light of the morning. But not with ease; the sun was painful to see. He sat up and hugged his knees tight, contemplating the nightmares he had endured throughout the night. He could feel the sunlight on his skin- it was so sensitive. The wind on his skin. But this puzzled him; he was indoors, he had thought.
Open not just looking, but observing his surroundings; he sat on dirt. Ash swirled around him like a tornado and pockets of fire were scattered around where his apartment used to be. Black scorches marked where his home once existed. His comic books, his photos of family, all burnt in the flaming inferno he slept through without a scratch. Sam stood, naked, cold, but not alone. Hundreds of locals pointed, gasped and studied him. A man reborn from the flames. Some took steps closer, yet hesitant to touch as if he was beyond them. In their eyes, he had just survived the impossible.
Confused, embarrassed, ashamed and made a monkey for others to observe, Sam had no other instinct other than to flee the scene and anyone who knew he had survived the pyre.
---Tokyo, 12:21 am---
The strange lady, who Elliott came to know as Martha Walls, sat beside him. She composed herself elegantly at the back of the limo, her legs crossed as they were at the bar. She dived into her handbag and plucked out a single wipe that removed all her makeup in a single swipe. Her face had many beauty marks, and her lips lost their redness. She aggressively reached deep up her dress and removed a pistol which she slammed on the centre table.
"Don't worry," Martha spoke plainly. Elliot wasn't comforted at all. "I'm not going to shoot you."
"What a-a-are you going to do?" Elliott stuttered. She did not reply but continued to meaningless organise the contents of her handbag. In this period of silence, noticed a mysterious black figure driving the limo. The outlines of the body suggested she was a female.
"Where are you taking me?" Elliott attempts at another query.
"Where did you find this?" Martha questions. She magically conducts the ring into her hand. For the firs time since they left the bar, her blue eyes stare into his. This intimidated him- she never looked into his eyes.
"But-" Elliot panics, frantically searching his pockets.
"I took it. You don't need it anymore."
"Yes, I do! Please, it's the only lead I have," Elliott pleads.
"To what?" She asks. But Martha spoke with a grin. She was expecting a specific answer. Elliott paused for a moment, debating whether his reply would be silly in her eyes.
"Mutants?" He questions, waiting for her to reject his preposterous answer. But her smile only deepened. Her glance caught the eyes of the driver through the rearview mirror. Both women smiled ghastly at each other.
"Elliott," she smiled, "your world is about to get much bigger."
Outro music:
I really hope everyone enjoyed the 2nd episode! A bunch more characters are introduced next episode. I would love it if you discussed amongst yourselves some questions I have for you?
1) Who is Martha? What are her intentions surrounding Elliott? Where is she taking him?
2) Is Evan a bad person?
3) Who is your favourite character so far?
4) What is your favourite mutant power so far?
:)
Comments
So glad this is going along good! :) I will read it in its entirety in the morning after I get some sleep
BrainJak Cree's power is supposed to be a sort of mystery at the moment. her power is slightly confusing anyway but with time hopefully, you'll understand what it is :).
Icarus_Mark thankyou! You always have great feedback haha.
1) She is probably a mutant hunter if she was so obsessed with the ring like Elliott or she is a mutant herself, who noticed the ring because she had seen it before. Have no idea on the second part.
2) Yes, if I read it right then he is an abusive man, Aria said he's like her father, who abused her. But it seemed to me he didn't remember what had happened
I feel like Martha is a mutant herself. If you think about the newspaper article thing, you'd see why I think this. As for Evan, I actually don't think he's that bad of a person. For now, I'm going to consider him as someone who just can't control himself and just needs someone to teach him how to do so.
