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Jun 14, 2016 18:13:50 GMT
Post by orchid on Jun 14, 2016 18:13:50 GMT
Posters of your hidden face are still scattered across the city, across telephone polls and the sides of buildings. You lean down to read the text across the bottom, "Come see the city's blooming beauty perform this Wednesday afternoon in Dunwich park!" It brings a smile to your face, who doesn't enjoy a break? Between fighting at work, as a vigilante, it's always a nice break. Besides, who are you to deny the people what they want?
You look across a street, seeing a small crowd already gathering in the park. The sun hangs heavy overhead, heat sweeping through the streets in waves. The park is beautiful this time of year, alive and well, nothing like in the cold months of the city.
A moment later you're surrounded by vines, creeping up the sides of an alley, the entrance, to hide you from view. You draped on your loose fitting costume, scattered with bright reds, yellows, blues. With a wave of your hand orchids grew across half your face, obscuring it from view; they were a bright pink, vibrant. Then the vines are gone and you step out of the alley; a few gasps heard from around you. You turn to smile before looking back at the park, time to make an entrance.
In front of the crowd a small field of poppy flowers burst into existence, spreading across the grass as petals swirl up into the wind. The crowd has grown bigger by now, you hear them yelling and chanting your name. It makes you feel at ease, this admiration. Something you'd always wanted come to life. You, in full bloom, all on your own.
You count, one, two - before you teleport above the poppy in the center of the field, petals bursting into the air, surrounding and obscuring you from view as a vine shortens beneath your feet. The petals are gone now, leaving you to raise your hand towards the crowd, "Hello citizens of Kingsport!" you yell out. The crowd screams again, yelling your name.
You take a deep breath as you feel the sun on your skin, your flowers.
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Post by VALKYRIE on Jun 15, 2016 3:59:23 GMT
You are not Valkyrie. You are not Archangel. You are not Thalia de Luca. You are another face in the crowd, the sun beating down on your skin. You are a girl in a sundress, hair tucked behind your ears, a handful of brilliantly colored flowers tucked in among the waves. You are smiling, and it is real. You are smiling, and not anywhere but in the moment; you can almost feel young. The woman who can do such marvelous things with plants calls out to the crowd and the crowd responds as one, a pulsing heartbeat, a single organism united by beauty and the pleasure of being alive in the world.
And yet beneath all of that, there is a part of you that watches, knotted with secrecy and fear. You can almost forget it in the hedonistic rush, but it does not forget you. It does not forgive. It watches for trouble with ceaseless, untrusting eyes, on edge for the moment that the woman loses control, for the moment when someone is attracted by the mass of people and sees the potential for violence.
You smile, and slide through the crowd somehow without touching anyone. They never even notice you, your famous face, your famous hair. They're so entranced by the woman with the flowers and the vines. You're grateful to her for that as well.
orchid
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Post by orchid on Jun 17, 2016 5:05:33 GMT
The crowd yells back and you can feel your chest swell, the flowers in front of you growing bigger before bursting into clouds of petals. "Did you miss me?" you yell to the crowd, the vine under your feet growing to push you further up into the air. Along it's stem large white flowers bloom, the smell of summer and many April showers comes into the air.
With a wave of your hand two large trees sprout on the sides of the crowd, branches entwining to form a large heart above them. You notice a small child in the front of the crowd staring up at you in awe; how you used to look as a child, when things were still promising. When life was something intriguing, not a burden to bear. Vines sprout beneath the child, lifting her up to stand with you looking at the large branch construction. "Tell me, what's your favourite kind of flower?" you ask, voice soft. She fidgets briefly, tucking her hair behind her ear before pointing at the flowers across your face. "Oh, you like my favourite too?" and she looks up almost in awe, nodding.
You motion for the girl to turn around, the heart of branches still hovering above the crowd. With a flourish of your hand, orchids overtake every inch of it, many falling gently into the crowd below. A single flower blooms in your hand as you whisper to it, handing it to the girl as the vines begin to lower her down to her eagerly waiting parents. "It'll never wilt, I promise." you spin atop your vine, petals whipping through the crowd again as wreaths of flowers begin to appear on everyone.
It's then you notice her hair, your heart begins to beat faster. As always, she's beautiful. The flowers in her hair were stunning, amazingly not something of your own creation. But the main question; why is Valkyrie here? Surely she didn't want to fight, or cause any trouble for you, not that you couldn't handle her on your own. You had learned long again that the institute underestimated you time and time again; did they forget that you nearly strangled one of their strongest to death? Granted, you hadn't wanted to, but he had wanted to maim you some kind of bad.
The crowd is still cheering for you. Rooting you on, wanting to see more. You'd been gone for so long, they called out. You looked down at Valkyrie as she slowly made her way through the crowd. You took a deep breath. You widened the vine you stood on before the wreath of orchid's around her neck withered, dead to the ground below. In their place came white poppies.
You had hoped this was enough, or that she understood. You'd only wanted to enjoy yourself today. You missed the city, it's people, with your mask on. It was a lonely life, the one without your mask. Why can't they just let you have this?
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Post by VALKYRIE on Jun 19, 2016 7:41:39 GMT
You don't speak the language of flowers, but you know how to take a hint. Your hand rises to touch the wreath around your neck as it wilts, and for a moment that hungry, frightened part of you hisses with fear and your muscles tense. You are ready to fight.
(You are always ready to fight.)
Poppies bloom beneath your fingers, soft as silk flowers and twice as beautiful. A petal comes loose and you hold it in your palm. You don't look the woman in the eyes. You press the petal into a child's hand when they bump into you and they look at it with careless curiosity before tucking it into their pocket.
You start to think things might be okay, and that's when the ground splits open beneath your feet. The jagged crack widens, pushing itself apart, and you jump into the air and don't come down. People mill back, away from the epicenter of the event, the crowd turning into a wide circle with you at the middle, and they start to notice you; your hair, your flight, the abyss below you.
The flowers are still ringed in white around your neck. You look up now helplessly at the woman, eyes narrowed.
Is this you?, your gaze asks.
orchid
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Post by orchid on Jun 20, 2016 7:14:24 GMT
You see her tense as the flowers around her neck wither, your hands raise, prepared. Withering the orchids wasn't the brightest idea, you admit. The death of anything isn't really a promising gesture. Your hands lower, the crowd still content, as her fingers gently grasp the new wreath around her neck. She won't look at you. The only one in the crowd, witnessing this spectacle, and she won't look at you. Of all this beauty before her, yourself included, she won't look. You huff. If this show didn't speak of your ego this slight surely did.
The city's Valkyrie isn't afraid of you, is she? You don't know and now isn't the time to find out.
The ground below the crowd begins to rumble. You stumble back on your vine just a bit, righting yourself before anyone even notices. The crowd begins to scream and back away as the ground rips itself apart, a jagged gap appearing beneath Valkyrie. She's floating, now looking at you. So much for her discretion, you think. The crowd is still roaring.
You look at her and shake your head. This isn't you, but the rumbling continues. You take a deep breath before light mist begins to pour from the wreath's around the crowd's necks. Don't panic, you hear the flowers speak to those that wear them. When people panic is when they get hurt, is when they do something stupid. Calm, your flowers say, as the mist continues.
You look back at the hero still hovering above the gap. You don't even think before throwing your hands into an X formation in front of you. The now growing rift rumbles again. Roots rip through the sides of the openings, entwining around each other. You could seal this easily, right? The roots grow quickly, thick.
Thick, before they tear apart. Your flowers begin to cry to you, they can't tell what's wrong. Your roots won't stay knotted. You look at the pink haired woman in a bit of a panic. Mother, the flowers cry out, we don't know what'a wrong.
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Post by VALKYRIE on Jun 21, 2016 5:47:49 GMT
The girl who climbs up out of the abyss looks exhausted. It's not enough to say she's covered in dirt; it's embedded in her skin, sunken like an anchor, weighted like moss. Her fingers dig into the ground as she hauls herself up and its hard to tell where it ends and she begins.
You float back a little, putting yourself between her and the crowd on the side she's chosen to breach up on. Her breath is ragged and harsh. Her eyes are black with no iris. You can't help yourself. You reach out.
You kneel like a penitent. You ask if she's okay.
In return, she grabs your right wrist with a strength you don't expect, a strength like the bones of the earth are rooted in her, and flips you over her shoulder, towards the hole she emerged from. Shock and inertia send you spiraling for a moment before you right yourself in mid-air and ram back into her.
She staggers. That's not encouraging. Steel walls give way when you ram into them at that speed.
You didn't come for a fight, but you expected one, and now you've got it. Sometimes you hate being right.
orchid
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Post by orchid on Jun 22, 2016 5:48:58 GMT
It's the scene of a horror movie. As the girl crawls out of the abyss you expect reality to flicker, the static of a VHS tape coming through. The crowd is calm, backing away, but not enough for your comfort. With a flourish of you hand a large wall of trees grow before the crowd, their branches crossing in front of them. "Breathe, children, and serve me." you whisper as the trees uproot, moving towards the girl before stopping, waiting.
You watch patiently; it's only when the creature flings Valkyrie that you begin to take her seriously. You'd watched her level buildings, walls, villains three times her size... To be thrown, like a ragdoll. How humbling this must be for her, you think. She merely staggers as Valkyrie attempts to ram her.
With a deep breath you appear in front of your trees, as always in a storm of petals. You reach back to touch the largest of the trees, slowly mutating it, pulling a glaive from it's bark. Hard as any steel, truly. Your constructs could match any human, or hero, made material with ease. This is how you show off, but you won't admit it. The pretty girl doesn't really need your help, but here you are wanting to save the day.
The flowers covering your face begin to grow. Their roots begin to sink into your skin, glowing faintly. You balance the glaive in front of you, counting - one, two -
You leap at the girl who climbed from the abyss, vines crawling from the ground to hold her still. She snaps them, lunging at you - before you appear behind her, by a piece of the vine, and pierce her shoulder with the glaive.
Or, so you thought. The glaive shattered at the tip, leaving you right in arm's reach. She turned again, jumping at you.
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Post by VALKYRIE on Jun 23, 2016 9:05:28 GMT
Flowers glowing, knives shattering; it's all very dramatic, which means that it's pretty par for the course in Kingsport. The girl lunges for the woman as her weapon breaks, and you take advantage of the opening she leaves to grab her by the elbow and swing, pouring extra strength into it. You learn from your mistakes, at least some of the time.
The woman gratifyingly actually moves this time, her feet leaving furrows in the dirt as you drag her backwards, away from Orchid. She writhes in your grip but you clamp down with unyielding pressure. She twists around enough to get a fist up and sock you in the face.
Huh. You almost felt that.
orchid
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Post by orchid on Jun 28, 2016 6:26:52 GMT
In the moment the girl turns to you, your body began to bloom. The roots dug deeper into your veins as thick layers of bark appeared over parts of your skin, as if armor. This hadn't ever happened before; for a moment you stop moving, no reaction - until Thalia grabs her by the elbow, dragging her away from you. This was the perfect opportunity.
Thick roots with pointed tips began to rip through the ground around Valkyrie and the girl before diving at the girl's body. Mutated, harder than steel, they burrowed into the girl's legs and shoulders, slowly growing through her body. Your eyes narrowed as you focused, pushing them as deep as you could, making them branch and stick. "Hold her still." you motion to Valkyrie, hold her still.
No sooner than you speak, the girl turns and socks her in the face - a punch that certainly was going to leave a mark. She begins to writhe more as the roots continue to grow, anchoring in her skin. Almost, close, you thought. Just a little bit more and you could pull this off.
In a second the roots pulled toward the ground, anchored in flesh and bone. Ripping out of these would be ripping herself apart, they'd hold her for a while before that. You could feel the girl's heart beat through your roots, but there was no blood coming from her body. "What are we going to do with her?" you ask Valkyrie. What is she?
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Post by VALKYRIE on Jul 1, 2016 5:46:37 GMT
"She's right here," you say, frowning. "Can you take those out of her without killing her, when it's time?"
You walk around to face the girl from the front again, standing side by side with Orchid. For someone with an entire arsenal of plants writhing through her body, her face is surprisingly blank. But maybe that's to be expected: this slackness to her skin, the sucked-dry stone glitter of her eyes.
"Who are you?"
2kQb64Cd < 50 answers
She shakes her head silently in reply. Her eyes shutter closed.
"Oh the wind," she says, "Oh the wind and the rain."
orchid
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Post by orchid on Jul 4, 2016 23:49:56 GMT
You look over at Valkyrie, nodding softly. "I wouldn't have put them in her if I couldn't." you answer. You were not bloodthirsty, you always felt the need to explain. You create life, not take it away without reason.
You still feel the pulse through your roots. Yet the girl still did not bleed, she stood there as if stone. Blank, cut from the earth with nothing else. The orchids on your face withered and the roots pulled out of your own skin.
Her answer was not what you had hoped. The wind and the rain, forces that shape that of stone, shapes that cut from the earth. You didn't understand but you wanted to. You look at Thalia now, shaking your head. She's alive, but to what extent you don't know. "I don't know if I can heal her, or if there's anything left to heal." you say, looking back at the girl.
"Are you in pain?"
GrDqEuIL < 50 answers
The girl's eyes remained closed, another whisper about the wind and the rain.
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Post by VALKYRIE on Jul 5, 2016 0:26:33 GMT
Thalia doesn't bury her face in her hands or drag her fingers through her hair. She has an audience: Orchid, the girl, the crowd still at a distance. She has herself, always watching. She keeps her face steady as the girl who is looking back at her, past her, through her. Valkyrie is still on the job.
"I have to take her back," Thalia says after a moment. "At the Initiative there will be telepaths, healers--we'll have a better shot at figuring out what's going on. If we can help her."
FjlEAG|q < 50 she reacts to being taken in
The girl snaps like a breaking wave, thrashing and screaming. Her body jerks and shudders, her flesh ripping open as she pulls apart and away from the vines entwined within her. Soft, black dirt falls from the gaping wounds as she seizes.
orchid
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Post by orchid on Jul 5, 2016 0:36:19 GMT
Thalia begins to speak about taking her to the initiative, and you shake your head. "Hopefully you don't make a mess of her, too." you say softly. All the supers know what happens upon occasion when the initiative steps in. Sometimes supers step out worse than before. It's something you all don't speak of.
You wince slightly as she begins to rip herself away from your vines, the roots shredding her skin. Black soil falls to the ground in place of blood. Is this the life you were sensing? Now wasn't the time to think of it.
Your vines withered as you pulled them from her body. Thick branches ripped from the ground, encasing the girl in a helix formation. Large flowers bloomed as a thick cloud of mist and pollen began to wash over her.
_mFJQNES < 50 she calms down
It doesn't work, the branches cracking as she begins to thrash against them. You didn't want to put the roots back in. You didn't want to help her tear herself apart. Another layer of heavy branches wraps around, reinforcing the makeshift cage. VALKYRIE
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Post by VALKYRIE on Jul 5, 2016 1:48:50 GMT
"And what's your alternative?" Thalia bites off. "Leaving her here forever? Or letting her go free, with no idea what she is or what she'll do?" Or what's been done to her.
sjch2byZ < 50 she breaks the cage > 50 calms down
orchid
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Post by orchid on Jul 5, 2016 3:36:16 GMT
"My community has healers, too. I'm one of them." you growl. "Thalia, we know what happens sometimes. Why do you think I tear your friends apart when they try to take me?" you cut your eyes at her, you know you're right. The Initiative isn't some saintly organization. They may tote themselves as such, but you all know.
The girl calms down, breathing in the mist deeply as her muscles begin to relax. You begin to sink parts of the prison back into the earth, her posture different. She's holding herself lightly, muscles not tensed. She's not ready to thrash or tear you apart.
8B2UMzA3 < 50 she speaks
The girl slowly begins to look at herself, turning her arms and hands upwards. "What happened to me?" she says, choking on the words. "Oh, the dreadful wind and rain..." she whimpers, as if to console herself.
VALKYRIE
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