It wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Pulling up your rag tag body while your fingers looped into the steel holes. Huffing and puffing, your hand swiping the corners of your torn lip as you look bat the tormentors, you couldn’t help but to wonder: Why the fuck were they still here? With all that leather of a Letterman and the grace of a tool, standing and grinning at your dismay, clearly they could have been doing something else with their afternoon. Yet, they choose to do the same routine over and over again: slam the nerd while his protector was MIA because of putbol practice.
Your knees were starting to buckle underneath the dead weight at the same time your eyes began to blur and mix every thing together like a psychedelic high. Gulping down a fist full of the salty red liquid filling your mouth, you started to wonder once more: who was that guy? Fuzzy at first but you started to squint your eyes to get a better look. In the far back who was couldn’t act any madami obvious. He stood awkwardly with his hands digging in his pockets glancing through the bleachers trying to distract his mind (most of all eyes) from the situation at hand. No doubt he was new and already he sported the school mga kulay but lack the jockey ass’itude. However, it was replace sa pamamagitan ng the bystander approach.
Before getting madami details on the guy, you had your hair violated with intruding fingers. Your head was jerked upwards sa pamamagitan ng the brunette roots causing you to yelp. It was he, Ivan. He looked at you with aroused interest, nothing new about that.
“You’re lucky, sweety.” Ivan breathed into your base of your ear. “Next time, I will…”
“Aye, Ivan, let’s ditch this punk ass. The track team is coming.” A faceless voice barked.
“Y’all head out first,” He commanded.
“All right.”
Like a pack of wolves, they began to dismiss their selves including the mysterious lad as well. You brought your attention back to Ivan’s mischievous grin. It ranged from earlobe to earlobe like a Cheshire cat he grinned. You lunok another heap of blood and closed your watering eyes. You just want this end. This thunderous clap of agony rippling throughout your body like forest on apoy then again why should it end? It’ll only happen the susunod encounter with the Cheshire cat and his lobo pack. This broken record continue to scratch that ear splitting tune over and over again, yet whenever you try to remove the needle to ease the drums of your ear Ivan will pounce in and slap your wrist.
“Until susunod time, sweet cheeks.” He leaned forward, crossing the comfortable distance. Quickly you whimper at the touch of his lips against yours. “Next time.” Ivan promised, his coarse thumb sweeping under her eye as her peek them open.
As if the time clocked midnight, the ball became empty for the prince. Sinderella whisked away without a single word of your susunod encounter. The only difference was this was no fairytale; it was an epic poem with no sights of the end. This clichéd plot driven sa pamamagitan ng generics. When will this zero become a hero and revenge all the fallen nerds that help you raise to your glory?
You release a handful of steel from your grip to dry your tears. Biting down your lip you try not to release any of your cries for the birds to hear. Releasing another grip, you began to limp away from behind the bleachers. For what it seems to be a normal after school.
Thank Batman.
For your undeniable ninja like moves, easily you slip through the guy’s locker room (a shortcut) without being detected sa pamamagitan ng the-only-athletes-who-uses-a-field-and-actually-have-a-mind-of-their-own putbol players. Feeling somewhat revealed to avoid an encounter with your best pal’s overly protective tendencies; you regroup your scattered brain within your fortress of solitude. Ah, you mean your locker.
The sweet, sweet comfort of your picture filled locker but you couldn’t admire the art for long, you needed to clean out the cuts on your face and bust out your back up glasses. Glancing to the side of the locker, your reflection was the only greeting you’ll accept that shady afternoon. You wince with each push of your pulsing cheek at the same time you were trying to figure out which excuse fit best for today: You ran into my locker? Shaped fist. You slip and fell? Into a fist. You accidentally set off an explosion in chem. lab? That created a multiple of fist to pummel you to the ground. You growl at your piss poor excuses, what kind of straight-A slacker were you? Key word: Slacker. Dismissing your horrific imagination and down right shameful excuse as a teenager, you slammed the locker shut without grabbing a couple of comics on the way out.
Hallways were as empty as your English teacher’s heart, whom you’re tell mad at for calling Superman a figment of imagination for children. You cussed Mrs. Schmidt out to the point of tears and you strutted out of class as a quote on quote, ”BAMF” but that was in fantasy. In reality you sunk into your chair, hiding your burning while malicious snickers ruffle the air. You proceeded down the hallway with your squeaky shoes without noticing the gray skies. Then again you were use to the sights of gloomy skies, you did live Brooklyn for quite some time before the whole… Whatever, that wasn’t important right now. Kansas had those days where it can slay all the Bampira with just one sweep of the sunny blade. It was strange at first, living in a well-light environment neglecting the fact you almost never leave your room when it doesn’t involve school. It was strange because you weren’t use to being able to see everything.
Only seeing part of a picture is what you use to. Seeing what’s not there is easy for you. Your parent’s kept you in the dark about their crumbling marriage, oh were you supposed to mention that? Oh, well, now it is an important unlike the paragraph beforehand. Anyways, back to the point, your parents kept secrets from you. It wasn’t until you piece together, madami like you hunted down the divorce papers ironically hidden underneath their wedding video in your mothers weakly guard chest of valuables. After being enlighten at the predicament at hand, you were split up like a pet: You live with you dad in Kansas during the school taon and you live with you mom when you’re on vacation. Holidays were every other, except pasko and Thanksgiving. You normally spend those alone because your parents were somehow always “out of town.”
Slapping your forehead only to yelp out-loud, you accidentally ran into someone.
“Hey! I was just coming to get you.” Sincerity took form of a smile on his face but as soon as he caught glimpse of your purple-patched face, sincerity took the back upuan for rage. “What happen? Was it Ivan again?!” He marched forward, feet echoing the classroom.
“Russ, I’m fine!” Instantly you hated the sound of your voice, so fake and strain. You were worst actor than those damn Disney kids.
“Bullshit, tell me where he is!” He roared right your face, the vein in his neck popping against his tanned skin. “Why does he always pull this shit when I’m not around.”
Because he knows you’ll defend me like some princess.
“I don’t know.” You croaked retreating back from uncomfortable position they were in. Now with a good distance between them, 3 steps back, you continued, “ who knows and who cares? Let’s just drop it okay?”
Russ snapped his head back in disgust, he snapped,” how many ‘just drop it’ will it take until he does madami than this? One thing for sure, I’m done with ‘just dropping it’ when it comes to this asshole. Do you understand that? Do you understand that I am going to whoop his ass.” You flinched, you hit a nerve and now you regret it. Russ wasn’t the type to lose his cool just like that.
“I’m sorry…” Whimpering as you drew back into your shirt, your hand clenching the S-shield charm underneath your shirt. Hoping it’ll give you strength to endure this rare rage. “I.. I…” Words fled from your mind, making you look like a fool with his mouth wide open.
“No, no…” Exhaling his wrath out, Russ reached out and pats your head down. “I shouldn’t have done that to you, you weren’t the one at fault here. Unless you ran into his fist.”
“Oh no!” You played along with his joke with your damsel voice, “however did you know?” You gasped while you assume the position; the back of your hand pressing down your forehead while you clenched a handful of your shirt.
“Sir, I am Sherlock Holmes.” Russ mocked an English accent when he straightens out his posture.
“Bullocks!” You stuck your tongue out at him.
Russ and you started bursting into laughter at your lame attempt at an English accent; you blame your thick Brooklyn accent. An accent that Russ nickname, “Mobster.”
“C’mon let’s go the nurse and clean you up.”
“Nope!” you dodge, “I’ll do it at home.”
Before any protest, Russ ran to the door and guards it with his soccer-molded body.
“Bloody athletes,” you snarled in your horrific Austin Powers accent.
“You have to get through me first.”
Raising a brow over the square-framed glasses, you couldn’t believe this guy. Again you thank Batman for your cat like movements. You swept under his arm and went out the door, leaving nothing madami than a small giggle. You couldn’t see Russ but something just made you want to turn. Following your gut, you look over your shoulder to get a mouth full of jacket. You stagger back at the sudden force; the dyaket fell into your open hands.
“It’s going to rain and I don’t have time to take care of a sick-o.” Russ joked with his head poking out the door. “I’ll stop sa pamamagitan ng your house later.”
“Okay.” Already you slipped on his large coat.
“Bye Supes!”
“Bye Flash.”
The door swung shut and again you were alone. This time you manage to escape the school grounds without running into any madami people. The rain picked up when you hit a crosswalk. Rapidly you started to write a lecture you will vividly as well as lividly shout, no, tell Russ. What was the point of giving you a dyaket for the rain when it has no hood? Luckily you kept an umbrella in your backpack. Glancing up to check if the red hand turn into a walking man yet, you quickly slide your backpack off one shoulder to dig into.
“Yes,” you whispered with glee.
To your panic, the umbrella slip out of your hand when someone bump into you. You whip your body around to see who it was. Your mind went blank.
“I didn’t see you there, my glasses fogged up and I was cleaning it.” His voice, so deep it resonated throughout your body like crashing lightning. Yet you listen to his cloying voice but you were engaged. His crystal irises webbed you in. “I’m sorry.” He reached down and grabbed the umbrella.
“ It’s fine,” you wheezed, taking back the umbrella.
His smiled brought all the maidens heads over their heels. Long story short, this guy look like the stereotypical America and damn it, you should not be thinking this right now. You want to know why?
“Hey, your that guy from behind the ble—“
Before he can finish, you beeline out onto the crosswalk dropping your umbrella mid way. Damn, why didn’t you notice before you started checking him out? That was the blurry guy in the far back!
“Hey! Come back!” He shouted
You kept running and running for no reason until you reached home. You slammed the door open and slammed it shut with your back. The house was pitched black meaning Dad wasn’t tahanan yet. You slide down the door while you brought your knees to your chest.
“Oh man.” You saw your empty hands, it was then when you just notice you drop your umbrella. Banging the back of your head on the door at your Nawawala but mostly your gain or what you think you’ll gain.
Grimacing with each bang against the door, you dreaded the fact that there might be a new problem brewing. You started to ramble in the dark. It was not till the susunod morning that nailed it.
Grabbing your Chem. book, your ear twitched at the unexpected squeak beside you. Turning you saw the man whom filled you thoughts the night before, whether or it was dirty or not that you refuse to neither deny nor confirm. He was standing right there, wearing his Letterman: The mark of a football player.
“Hmmm, Vash?” He shyly called out.
Damn, damn, damn, damn. Vash was starting an internal meltdown.
Your knees were starting to buckle underneath the dead weight at the same time your eyes began to blur and mix every thing together like a psychedelic high. Gulping down a fist full of the salty red liquid filling your mouth, you started to wonder once more: who was that guy? Fuzzy at first but you started to squint your eyes to get a better look. In the far back who was couldn’t act any madami obvious. He stood awkwardly with his hands digging in his pockets glancing through the bleachers trying to distract his mind (most of all eyes) from the situation at hand. No doubt he was new and already he sported the school mga kulay but lack the jockey ass’itude. However, it was replace sa pamamagitan ng the bystander approach.
Before getting madami details on the guy, you had your hair violated with intruding fingers. Your head was jerked upwards sa pamamagitan ng the brunette roots causing you to yelp. It was he, Ivan. He looked at you with aroused interest, nothing new about that.
“You’re lucky, sweety.” Ivan breathed into your base of your ear. “Next time, I will…”
“Aye, Ivan, let’s ditch this punk ass. The track team is coming.” A faceless voice barked.
“Y’all head out first,” He commanded.
“All right.”
Like a pack of wolves, they began to dismiss their selves including the mysterious lad as well. You brought your attention back to Ivan’s mischievous grin. It ranged from earlobe to earlobe like a Cheshire cat he grinned. You lunok another heap of blood and closed your watering eyes. You just want this end. This thunderous clap of agony rippling throughout your body like forest on apoy then again why should it end? It’ll only happen the susunod encounter with the Cheshire cat and his lobo pack. This broken record continue to scratch that ear splitting tune over and over again, yet whenever you try to remove the needle to ease the drums of your ear Ivan will pounce in and slap your wrist.
“Until susunod time, sweet cheeks.” He leaned forward, crossing the comfortable distance. Quickly you whimper at the touch of his lips against yours. “Next time.” Ivan promised, his coarse thumb sweeping under her eye as her peek them open.
As if the time clocked midnight, the ball became empty for the prince. Sinderella whisked away without a single word of your susunod encounter. The only difference was this was no fairytale; it was an epic poem with no sights of the end. This clichéd plot driven sa pamamagitan ng generics. When will this zero become a hero and revenge all the fallen nerds that help you raise to your glory?
You release a handful of steel from your grip to dry your tears. Biting down your lip you try not to release any of your cries for the birds to hear. Releasing another grip, you began to limp away from behind the bleachers. For what it seems to be a normal after school.
Thank Batman.
For your undeniable ninja like moves, easily you slip through the guy’s locker room (a shortcut) without being detected sa pamamagitan ng the-only-athletes-who-uses-a-field-and-actually-have-a-mind-of-their-own putbol players. Feeling somewhat revealed to avoid an encounter with your best pal’s overly protective tendencies; you regroup your scattered brain within your fortress of solitude. Ah, you mean your locker.
The sweet, sweet comfort of your picture filled locker but you couldn’t admire the art for long, you needed to clean out the cuts on your face and bust out your back up glasses. Glancing to the side of the locker, your reflection was the only greeting you’ll accept that shady afternoon. You wince with each push of your pulsing cheek at the same time you were trying to figure out which excuse fit best for today: You ran into my locker? Shaped fist. You slip and fell? Into a fist. You accidentally set off an explosion in chem. lab? That created a multiple of fist to pummel you to the ground. You growl at your piss poor excuses, what kind of straight-A slacker were you? Key word: Slacker. Dismissing your horrific imagination and down right shameful excuse as a teenager, you slammed the locker shut without grabbing a couple of comics on the way out.
Hallways were as empty as your English teacher’s heart, whom you’re tell mad at for calling Superman a figment of imagination for children. You cussed Mrs. Schmidt out to the point of tears and you strutted out of class as a quote on quote, ”BAMF” but that was in fantasy. In reality you sunk into your chair, hiding your burning while malicious snickers ruffle the air. You proceeded down the hallway with your squeaky shoes without noticing the gray skies. Then again you were use to the sights of gloomy skies, you did live Brooklyn for quite some time before the whole… Whatever, that wasn’t important right now. Kansas had those days where it can slay all the Bampira with just one sweep of the sunny blade. It was strange at first, living in a well-light environment neglecting the fact you almost never leave your room when it doesn’t involve school. It was strange because you weren’t use to being able to see everything.
Only seeing part of a picture is what you use to. Seeing what’s not there is easy for you. Your parent’s kept you in the dark about their crumbling marriage, oh were you supposed to mention that? Oh, well, now it is an important unlike the paragraph beforehand. Anyways, back to the point, your parents kept secrets from you. It wasn’t until you piece together, madami like you hunted down the divorce papers ironically hidden underneath their wedding video in your mothers weakly guard chest of valuables. After being enlighten at the predicament at hand, you were split up like a pet: You live with you dad in Kansas during the school taon and you live with you mom when you’re on vacation. Holidays were every other, except pasko and Thanksgiving. You normally spend those alone because your parents were somehow always “out of town.”
Slapping your forehead only to yelp out-loud, you accidentally ran into someone.
“Hey! I was just coming to get you.” Sincerity took form of a smile on his face but as soon as he caught glimpse of your purple-patched face, sincerity took the back upuan for rage. “What happen? Was it Ivan again?!” He marched forward, feet echoing the classroom.
“Russ, I’m fine!” Instantly you hated the sound of your voice, so fake and strain. You were worst actor than those damn Disney kids.
“Bullshit, tell me where he is!” He roared right your face, the vein in his neck popping against his tanned skin. “Why does he always pull this shit when I’m not around.”
Because he knows you’ll defend me like some princess.
“I don’t know.” You croaked retreating back from uncomfortable position they were in. Now with a good distance between them, 3 steps back, you continued, “ who knows and who cares? Let’s just drop it okay?”
Russ snapped his head back in disgust, he snapped,” how many ‘just drop it’ will it take until he does madami than this? One thing for sure, I’m done with ‘just dropping it’ when it comes to this asshole. Do you understand that? Do you understand that I am going to whoop his ass.” You flinched, you hit a nerve and now you regret it. Russ wasn’t the type to lose his cool just like that.
“I’m sorry…” Whimpering as you drew back into your shirt, your hand clenching the S-shield charm underneath your shirt. Hoping it’ll give you strength to endure this rare rage. “I.. I…” Words fled from your mind, making you look like a fool with his mouth wide open.
“No, no…” Exhaling his wrath out, Russ reached out and pats your head down. “I shouldn’t have done that to you, you weren’t the one at fault here. Unless you ran into his fist.”
“Oh no!” You played along with his joke with your damsel voice, “however did you know?” You gasped while you assume the position; the back of your hand pressing down your forehead while you clenched a handful of your shirt.
“Sir, I am Sherlock Holmes.” Russ mocked an English accent when he straightens out his posture.
“Bullocks!” You stuck your tongue out at him.
Russ and you started bursting into laughter at your lame attempt at an English accent; you blame your thick Brooklyn accent. An accent that Russ nickname, “Mobster.”
“C’mon let’s go the nurse and clean you up.”
“Nope!” you dodge, “I’ll do it at home.”
Before any protest, Russ ran to the door and guards it with his soccer-molded body.
“Bloody athletes,” you snarled in your horrific Austin Powers accent.
“You have to get through me first.”
Raising a brow over the square-framed glasses, you couldn’t believe this guy. Again you thank Batman for your cat like movements. You swept under his arm and went out the door, leaving nothing madami than a small giggle. You couldn’t see Russ but something just made you want to turn. Following your gut, you look over your shoulder to get a mouth full of jacket. You stagger back at the sudden force; the dyaket fell into your open hands.
“It’s going to rain and I don’t have time to take care of a sick-o.” Russ joked with his head poking out the door. “I’ll stop sa pamamagitan ng your house later.”
“Okay.” Already you slipped on his large coat.
“Bye Supes!”
“Bye Flash.”
The door swung shut and again you were alone. This time you manage to escape the school grounds without running into any madami people. The rain picked up when you hit a crosswalk. Rapidly you started to write a lecture you will vividly as well as lividly shout, no, tell Russ. What was the point of giving you a dyaket for the rain when it has no hood? Luckily you kept an umbrella in your backpack. Glancing up to check if the red hand turn into a walking man yet, you quickly slide your backpack off one shoulder to dig into.
“Yes,” you whispered with glee.
To your panic, the umbrella slip out of your hand when someone bump into you. You whip your body around to see who it was. Your mind went blank.
“I didn’t see you there, my glasses fogged up and I was cleaning it.” His voice, so deep it resonated throughout your body like crashing lightning. Yet you listen to his cloying voice but you were engaged. His crystal irises webbed you in. “I’m sorry.” He reached down and grabbed the umbrella.
“ It’s fine,” you wheezed, taking back the umbrella.
His smiled brought all the maidens heads over their heels. Long story short, this guy look like the stereotypical America and damn it, you should not be thinking this right now. You want to know why?
“Hey, your that guy from behind the ble—“
Before he can finish, you beeline out onto the crosswalk dropping your umbrella mid way. Damn, why didn’t you notice before you started checking him out? That was the blurry guy in the far back!
“Hey! Come back!” He shouted
You kept running and running for no reason until you reached home. You slammed the door open and slammed it shut with your back. The house was pitched black meaning Dad wasn’t tahanan yet. You slide down the door while you brought your knees to your chest.
“Oh man.” You saw your empty hands, it was then when you just notice you drop your umbrella. Banging the back of your head on the door at your Nawawala but mostly your gain or what you think you’ll gain.
Grimacing with each bang against the door, you dreaded the fact that there might be a new problem brewing. You started to ramble in the dark. It was not till the susunod morning that nailed it.
Grabbing your Chem. book, your ear twitched at the unexpected squeak beside you. Turning you saw the man whom filled you thoughts the night before, whether or it was dirty or not that you refuse to neither deny nor confirm. He was standing right there, wearing his Letterman: The mark of a football player.
“Hmmm, Vash?” He shyly called out.
Damn, damn, damn, damn. Vash was starting an internal meltdown.
Alias: Arwin
Age: 16
Occupation/Alliance: Hero
Appearance: Long black hair, kahel eyes, 5' 5"
Powers/skills/weapons: powers over the element earth, martial arts, and her family heir loom (a magic staff)
Personality: Withdrawn, optimistic, kind, brave, courageous, shy, cynical, hard-working, loyal
History: After being ibingiay into the care of her grandparents without warning Lana's parents mysteriously went missing. Lana discovered their family heir loom when she went looking for her parents a taon later. She took the heir loom into her possesion after pagbaba a note left with the heir loom sa pamamagitan ng her parents. When she was fifteen she left her grandparents to train her powers. After training for three years and discovering many things Lana returned to her grandparent's house to find them gone. From that point on Lana decided that secrets only killed people rather than kept the safe.