X-Men: Akantha and Light
Somewhere in New York City, three years or so before the current RP.
April 13th
Goddamn it was hot. Summer in NYC had a tendency to be every bit as brutal as the winters and sweat was rolling down every back on the block that was unfortunate enough to be steaming beneath. A tall, twiggy figure pulled down the street on a pair of long, golden legs that ended in a pair of black high-top Converse. Her hair hung over her back and shoulders with long, glossy-black strands that her bejeweled fingers raked through periodically to relieve her neck of the heat. Her shorts were tattered and short, showing off her length and developing shape without care. Night had already fallen and the darkness was
Akantha's to enjoy, alone at last and away from the crowd of familiars. She pulled out a cigarette from the pack that obviously peaked from the front of her shorts and lit it with a quick flick, pulling it away from her mouth as she kicked a broken bottle with the toe of her shoe. Strolling along, she blew out a lungful of smoke and crossed the street, heading north suddenly. Perhaps she was paranoid but this had been the third block in a row that she heard footsteps
just behind her and that special itch just beneath the skin of her third eye started to twinge again. Someone was following her. Someone who needed to be stopped. Slowly, her swagger turned into a full pause and she stopped utterly, taking a long drag and then letting her arm swing with the orange ember burning at her side. She turned, one thumb hooked into her pocket as she held her smoke between the first two fingers of the other hand. "Whatchya want, asshole?" she asked loudly, looking dead at the shadow that she knew belonged to her follower.
"Nothin' ta do with you," replied the voice, male and husky, probably young, emanating from the figure in the shadows, now stopped far enough behind Akantha to stay hidden from any light. "'Sides, pretty sure you're the asshole here, addressin' people like that. Dunno what yer doin' on this side ah town anyway, so why don't you just keep walkin' yer pretty little ass away?" The person on the other end of the voice obviously wasn't too pleased with Akantha, whether of his own volition or because she had insulted him (it wasn't clear which), and there was a hint of agitation to his words. From whatever street light that was leaking into the shadows behind the building, Akantha could see something reflected, long and metallic-looking, behind the shadowy stranger.
A bead of sweat slid down the side of
Akantha's neck, trailing down into the collar of her white t-shirt to disappear somewhere between her young, budding breasts. She blinked once as the voice addressed her, wondering if she'd heard it somewhere before before laughing and shaking her head. "Nah man,
you the one stickin' to the shadows," she said, tossing her hand apathetically towards the source of the voice. "That's spooky rapist, thief, murderer shit right there, son" Her head was high as she took a step forward, eyes glancing down to notice the flicker of something that looked sharp and metallic and then back up to where she assumed this fellow's head could be. Everything about her demeanor, from the way she calmly approached right down to the nonchalant flick of her cigarette suggested that, even if the stranger
was any of the aforementioned
, that she could handle herself all right. Whatever shiny weapon he had behind his back was only going to give him away - clearly, that black mass in front of the weapon was him, and it didn't take long to lock that ominous shape into the teenager's mind's eye. With her gaze cast to the darkness, she blinked once as a grapefruit sized explosion suddenly manifested directly in front of the long, metallic reflection. The size of the blast blew her hair back, thick threads whipping up and around as if her hair had become part of the smoke cloud itself...
"The hell you talkin' about?" the kid answered incredulously, shifting from one foot to the other and tilting his head as Akantha approached, still only visible to the girl through the movement of shadows. "I ain't never killed or raped nobody," he then spat, beginning to lift the long aluminum bat when the explosion set off just in front of it. There was a shrill scream proceeding the explosion as the boy's entire arm was suddenly blown to shreds, bits and pieces of blood, bones, and white clothes flying in several direction. He suddenly fell to the ground, screaming out again and again as he grasped at his now nonexistent arm, blood spilling out quickly onto the concrete. For several seconds, the screaming continued, while from every corner of the street, apartment lights began to flicker on, windows opening, and heads popping out. "Hey! What the hell are you doing!" one man called out from his third floor window. "What happened?" another woman asked, leaning out of her own window. There were more shouts, some of people telling others to call 911, people screaming in horror at the sight when they noticed, and even someone aiming a gun out their window at Akantha, demanding that she didn't move or he'd shoot. Finally the screaming stopped as the young kid, now visible in the apartment lights, passed out from either blood loss, shock, or both. If Akantha had time to look, she would have noticed that the person who's arm she had destroyed was none other than some teenage kid, wearing a backwards baseball cap, a simple white baseball jersey and dirt-stained white pants, and his shiny 'weapon' had been merely an aluminum baseball bat, all indicators that he was simply someone heading home from a community baseball game.
WHAT? No, no, this was all wrong. The series of screams that followed was entirely too high-pitched for the husky voice that had crept from the shadows. Her hair lowered to her shoulders, car alarms blaring from the alley just behind her and a veritable peanut gallery of citizens hanging from their windows. Akantha stood stock still for a moment, glancing up as the ever wakeful populous of NYC stuck their heads of to inspect what kind of terrible trouble had befallen the neighborhood this time. That sound... ripping flesh, shattering bone, splattering carnage... She had just reacted, like an animal. Clenching her eyes shut as a powerful throb punched through her skull, Akantha lifted her hands to her head, clutching it as that awful sound played over and over, a broken record playing on repeat to shame her for her sins. "DON'T SHOOT ME!" she howled, opening her eyes to look directly at the man who was aiming the barrel of his gun at her. Ordinarily she would have just blasted the thing out of his hands but she didn't. "I'm checkin' on 'im!" Her eyes were completely riveted to the expanding pool of blood that was seen spilling from the shadows, feet sluggish as if they'd been dragged through concrete. The first few steps were shaky, knees knocking together once as a hand came out to brace against the nearby alley wall. She made a long reach with her steps to avoid the puddle of blood and the darkness of the alley swallowed her whole. The smell swept up her nostrils and barred off further progress as she doubled over and coughed at the ripe stench of fresh blood. Pushing herself, the teenager took another step, only to squish a lump of bony meat with her Converse. "Oh god," she choked, spinning to place both hands against the wall and vomit. A thick spray of bile joined the splatter at her feet as quick heaves emptied the contents of her stomach in a matter of seconds. Gasping once she was through, she heaved a few more times before collapsing against the wall and wiping her hand against her mouth. After a few cleansing breaths that still tasted metallic, Akantha picked her way forward, towards the now-still figure. "Fucking a," she croaked as she noticed that her 'rapist' had been telling the truth. Just a boy. FUCK. Panicked fingers jabbed into his neck, seeking the pulse. As soon as she felt the soft thud she scrambled away and then, after a stumbling start, sprinted further into the covering darkness of the alley.
While the juvenile proceeded to make her way toward the now unconscious teen and check for his vitals, interrupted by her own vomiting, the shouts grew louder and more lights flickered on, shining down onto the pavement from windows and better illuminating the area. The man with the gun did as he was told, holding back from shooting as he wasn't sure that the young woman was the culprit of the crime here, nor did he have the guts to gun her down like that. Finally, several doors opened as people clambered down the apartment stairs, their heads poking out to observe things more closely. There were more screams and shouts as women and men took in the damage done to one of their neighbors. One woman's voice called out, "It's Tony, Shannon's kid!" and another man shouting, "Don't let her come outside!" The entire scene was pure chaos, and as Akantha attempted to make her escape into the dark alleyway, she could hear more shouts, louder, and moving, as people filed out of their homes and into the streets. With all the ruckus, even as Akantha moved along the alleyway, more lights continued to flicker on, with more murmurs of voices floating through the windows and doorways of apartments. Finally, after a few shot minutes, far off in the distance, the sirens of an ambulance and possibly police could be heard.
With adrenaline pumping like wildfire through her veins, Akantha charged down the alley, taking a turn everywhere she saw a street light and otherwise sticking to the shadows. Her waist length black hair whipped angrily behind her as her arms and legs pumped like a locomotive on a winding track. Several city blocks fell way beneath her Chucks with everything passing in a blur as the natural instinct to run overwhelmed her senses. She stuck to the alleys which were less crowded and was only in the light to cross the street from block to block. Finally, Akantha skidded to a halt, the sound of small gravel and grit crunching beneath her Chucks as she held out a hand to catch her in case she pitched forward. Standing, she leaned against her hand on a tall brick building to pant as her lungs tried to catch up with all the running she'd just done. A deep stitch buried into her side making it painful to inhale, but she started to walk now, trying to make her pulse settle as she let her crime settle about her like a mantle. The sound of sirens caught her attention as strange feelings of guilt started to stitch themselves to her, making her more worried about this explosion than any other she'd set off. She lifted the bottom hem of her shirt and wiped at her face and neck, which were running with sweat thanks to the midsummer heat, eyes shut for a moment longer than necessary. The kid was alive, for now, and there was no evidence to link her to the explosion but she still couldn't shake that sinking feeling in her gut about what she'd done. Dirty cops missing fingers was one thing. Wife beaters and child abusers deserved whatever painful retribution they got, but kids named Tony... they deserved both arms to swing a baseball bat with. Moving quickly, Akantha reached for the pack of smokes she'd stuck in her pants only to find that they had fallen out while she was running. "Shit," she cursed as she took a quick turn and then another quick turn and started walking down a more populated street on her way towards the subway...
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