The dirty, steel ladder was icy to the touch – something the young man mentally noted as he pulled himself up to the concrete phase above. A bitter, frigid draft of unpleasantly cold air swept over the eastern deck on Typhon, and like so many things to Icarus, he didn’t much care for it. Of course, he found it hard to believe that anyone could come to care for the freezing cold conditions that the Mid-Atlantic had to offer. He’d been here for a good eight months, since they ‘moved in’ per se and still had not yet adjusted.
Overcast again. A thick mist of charcoal grey surrounded and engulfed the colossal oil rig; its gloom only penetrated by the intense, searing blades of light emitting from the spotlights pointing out into the sky. Only they - and the lights that encircled the perimeters of the upper decks - illuminated their home at the edge of the world.
His coat wavered under the mercy of the harsh wind. Despite how thick it was, it had done him relatively little good in the chilly ‘morning’ atmosphere, and had he not been as use to it, he’d surely have retreated back into the confines of Typhon and its semi-warm accommodations.
He remembered he had fought Seth out here, on this section of the landing platform. He also remembered the immense amounts of shit he had gotten from Dominique after she had found out about the incident, as well. Icarus realized that what he did was brash, and only because the tension between everyone in the group was getting worse, but he still had his doubts about Gryphon and his commitment to the team. However, deciding that was not his job; it was Dom’s. But keeping an eye on him was the next best thing, he supposed.
That wasn’t why he was out on the insanely cold exterior of rig, however. He needed to speak with Claudia, and concluded that she would be out here. It only took ten minutes to prove that he guessed right: at the far end of the eastern landing platform, resting silently near the railed edge. At least, he assumed it was her, and assumed she was silent – the whistling breeze and the dense, fogbound state outside were not being easy on his senses.
As he began to approach the sitting woman, any doubt in his mind concerning her identity soon faded. Out of all the rest of the Angels, she was the easiest to spot, even more so than Livewire. She looked cold and bleak, and in many ways, she reminded him of a still, black and white photograph. Pale and motionless. She wore no hooded outfit today; but she was enshrouded, as always, by the pall of unnaturally straight hair that lay sprawled across her shoulders and back. Icarus came to sit beside her, resting his legs against the steel grating near the edge of the platform, looking over to her and watching the far off gaze of girl know as Raven.
The way she stared off into the void that was the sea was both intriguing and frightening; it was an intense glare, yet she didn’t quite seem connected to everything else. It was just how she always was, whenever she found the time to think and just be alone for awhile. He hated to disturb her, but he spoke up despite himself. “It’s cold out here.”
“I know.” She responded without a moments notice, not looking at him yet, as expected.
To talk with Raven was always either an exercise in futility or a test of ones patience. Icarus was becoming used to it. He asked the first thing that came to mind. “Do you ever dream?”
He studied her expression as she paused, raising an eyebrow at the question, but refusing to cease watching the ocean. Eventually she responded, her voice more careful and inquisitive than before. “No,” She slowly turned to look at Icarus, seemingly interested now. “Do you?”
“I’m not sure.”
She watched him for a moment before resuming her watchful stare, curious as to why he’d ask such a question. For a second, Raven smiled faintly, staring back into the dim haze as if waiting for something to appear that wasn’t about show up anytime soon and spoke softly. “I don’t think any of us sleep long enough to qualify for ‘dreams’.” She had a humored look on her face, as she wasn’t too far from the truth.
A somewhat awkward silence followed. Icarus would have laughed, but something was clearly troubling him. She didn’t think much of it, however, and before long he replied. “Maybe you’re right. What brings you out here?”
“I like the water. You know that, William.” Her detached tone remained as she said this and closed her eyes, breathing out a shallow sigh. Even the things she liked she was eerily vapid about.
“You’ll miss breakfast.” He said, gradually coming to a stand, and turning around, preparing to head back inside where he would be able to feel his fingers again. “Dominique wants us all inside.”
“I didn’t know it was morning.” She stated placidly, looking at William over her shoulder for a moment, and he met her stare. Looking at her eyes always made him feel peculiar; they were remarkable, but in a darker sense than one would think. They told so many things about Claudia, but hid so much more – concealing the tortured woman behind them. In Icarus’ eyes, Raven was beautiful because she was tragic. And that fascinated him; and made talking to her just that more exhilarating and difficult at the same time.
“Just letting you know. Don’t be out too long.” He brushed back his messily combed hair and began striding to the entrance to the interior of Typhon.
“I like her.” He stopped midway after she spoke, turning his head a bit and looking at Claudia in wonder.
‘…The girl?’ He remained silent; the shrill cry of moving air was ringing in his ears, circulating throughout the tapestry of steel they called home. For a few, excruciatingly soundless moments of time, it was the only noise between them. Puzzled, he merely nodded, and continued on his way. Icarus brow tightened; he was still troubled. He felt this way mainly because he couldn’t understand her, but also, because he knew she was lying. They all dreamt. And for William, dreaming was becoming more and more unpleasant.
He’d just have to gather the courage to ask her another time.
* * *
It was intoxicating. To Kaitlyn, it was everything. It was beautiful, melodic chaos that vehemently rang in her ears and burned through her every vein, through every ragged precipice of her being, instilling itself into every division of her soul.
It became a part of her, unmistakably heady, a quintessential component of her whole – both mind and physical alike. She was still, and yet, inside of her, liveliness and energy coursed incessantly, continuously, without ever losing its potency. The young girl was addicted to it all.
For that single, infinitesimal moment she was drawn away from the world and enraptured by a visceral, spellbinding rush that struck at her heart with the ferocity of the most shimmering blade, and as the blow jeweled sword faded she returned to the world, and her eyes flickered opened.
The music had always done that to Livewire. Noise inspired her, and drove her, and most of all; it kept her alert. It was becoming late, and the previous mishaps had delayed her progress long enough so that the lack of sleep the past week was becoming fully apparent both to herself or anyone else, had they been around to see the offset stare of hers. Thankfully, the shift of information yielded pleasing results, as the ruby and black shaded monitor read ‘100% data encoded and transferred’.
Despite her self-ignored, burned out condition, the mission had gone without a hitch, and all she had left to do now was make her exit. Kate’s infiltration had been a breeze, aside from the operation’s rather unpleasant start; spending a good twenty minutes in a dank, vertical access shaft wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. Eventually the rest of the airborne team had gotten their shit together (hopefully, before permanent musk saturation from the unfinished elevator passage) and she made entry, followed by a lovely little eleven floor promenade.
‘Better than being stuck jerking-off in the rain, I suppose,’ LW thought to herself, but soon realizing she was damned either way. ‘Then again, I’d probably be able to get some rest. I could use that, yeah.’ She had good reason, too. The last few weeks had been hellish – preparations for the weapons lab raid they were planning needed to be finished, and they were far behind on schedule. Getting the plans of the building they were after, and the power grid layout was all they had left to do, and having extracted those, the only thing left to do would be to get out in one piece.
That could possibly be a problem. By now, law enforcement was aware of what was going on. Her fellow members of the Furious Angels had cut the power, giving her a fair amount of time to break in, but the minute she accessed the database unauthorized, the police force was notified, and she would soon be intercepted. Radio silence at this phase of the mission was necessity, but there was no guarantee Dominique was ready for her at the top. Chances are, there might not be police involvement at all. But there weren’t any guarantees, right now.
‘Just like old times, just like in Vegas. It’s all just sheer luck.’ Her fingers moved to her headset, finding the dial to increase the volume ever so slightly, and the tips of her nails unwittingly ran along a crevice in the device. It was cracked, and she knew why. Nearly three weeks ago, during their incident in the Vegas casino, she had nearly taken a bullet to the head. The near miss, instead, struck her headset just slightly. She would have asked Bishop to get it fixed. She didn’t; it seemed like good luck, to her. In fact, she had only told Haven, her would-be boyfriend, of the close encounter with the stray round. And she only saw reason to tell him because Livewire prided the fact that up to this point, her fortune had always been positive – almost as much as she prided her looks.
‘Yeah, its luck alright,’ She humbly mused in her head, dashing towards her escape route. She reached over her back and removed the heavy Plasma Auto-Rifle from its holster, setting it and smirking, her gunmetal and azure figure striding ahead, further to the upper floor deck. Kaitlyn found herself raising the volume, and the loud, unremitting revival-electronica chimed in her ears louder than ever.
It was storming outside; that was the most evident observation of hers when she made it onto the roof of the electrical plant, the unremitting rainfall showering upon her, gliding smoothly from every corner of her water resistant suit to the ground – her hair becoming the only victim of the downpour. Her eyes and headset became hidden amidst a swirl of strands messily flattening out against her head, giving the visual impression of a strange, soaked cerulean and silver mop. Her sleek, petite fingers instinctively held the rifle tighter, almost certain that she’d lose hold of it if she wasn’t careful.
The torrent of rain and wind sweeping across the topside was the least of her worries, however. It hadn’t occurred to Livewire that in the plan, her rendezvous with the rest of the Furious Angels would only be met by two of their ships, the Valclyn and the Naritus. The moment she realized three of them were swerving overhead and encircling, she realized there was a problem. Though the weather conditions muffled much of Dominique’s words on the over the air radio, somewhere in the cracking noise Kaitlyn could decipher two verbs: ‘Fuck’, and ‘run.’ That was all she needed to get moving.
In the back of her mind it amazed her how slowly everything was happening in her mind; how every minute detail began to catch her attention, yet her body could not react to things in time. Her sense of time was distorted from confusion and the increase of adrenaline, and she felt the Aegis suit reacting to this - the second skin enhancing her movements two fold. As soon as she had burst into full sprint, the cream and sapphire outfit, hardwired to her entire frame, pushed her muscles to their limits.
As she reached the midpoint of the distance from the exit to rooftop edge, she saw the Valclyn, one of their larger gun ships, veer aggressively ahead of her, swinging around and positioning itself right in her line of sight, ready to transport her out of there. The Naritus, over to her left, tried to stave off the incoming, arrowhead shaped police unit with a sudden pass at its side. The roaring of the engines overhead became uncomfortably loud as they rushed just overhead of the nineteen-year-old in her attempt to flee.
When the sharp spasm of pain hit the joint of her leg, Kate assumed she was taking fire and attempted to raise her weapon into the air in defense. She failed, however, her right arm suddenly succumbing and falling limp after a searing twinge shot through her back. As she stumbled forward, losing the feeling in her legs, then her entire right side, maladroitly faltering in her run towards the edge, she looked down to see the wounds that, at this rate, would kill her.
There were none. Nothing she could see, not a drop of blood on her, nor was there gunfire, yet. Just the sharp ringing in her inner ear: the music played no longer, for the only things she could feel and hear were her pulse and the intense corrupted rhythm in her mind. Louder and louder it became, the noise surging throughout her, effervescent within her body. An in an instant, everything ended and all she felt was the fall. She winced, alone in the darkness, and then her eyes flared open once more.
Kate quickly pulled the headphones from her ears and rested the thin chords along her neck, jolting slightly and darting her eyes around the vicinity, the messy, white-walled room. Leaning her head back in her seat, the nineteen-year-old stared up at the torrent of cracks along the dirty ceiling. She had half-fallen asleep, and dreamt of the events of the evening just a week and a half prior. The melody had stirred her from the state of near-slumber, after having lulled her to it, and she could faintly hear it still going, along the back of her neck.
The supposedly prime piece of technology known as the Aegis suit short circuited as a result from the unchecked damage to the headset. Seconds later, a semi paralyzed Kaitlyn was careening off of the roof and to what would have been a certain death, had Gryphon not backed up in time, and Dominique not been out on the back lift, pulling the immobilized teen into the safety of the gunship. The malfunction had not just sparked within her a sense of vulnerability, but the aching didn’t seem to go away, no matter what she did. That night had proved that both her, as well as the suit’s abilities, were flawed.
She frowned, realizing she was beginning to have a headache, and she suddenly felt the need to announce to no one what it was she had to do. The thought on the end of her tongue just slipped away, however, only worsening the state of her migraine. Her fingers came to her forehead, brushing her short bangs aside and sinking into her chair as the song slowly faded to its end, and her plethora of bracelets chimed with the movement.
“You alright? Good-morning,” Dominique suddenly spoke up, grabbing the weary teen’s attention. Livewire shot her eyes over to the other side of the room, only to see the blonde laying on her side, on her bed. The end of her legs hung over the side – her height in contrast to the size of the small bed looking immensely uncomfortable. But she seemed to know how to manage.
Of course, Livewire didn’t particularly mind Dominique lounging around her room, but the guest was definitely unanticipated – seeing as how she hadn’t really spoken to Dom in nearly three days.
“I’m fine, just a little tired.” She was always tired, and missed the times before when she was on her own, and did things on her own terms. Kate had already made the commitment to the team for that, however. But that didn’t stop the days from just seemingly flying by.
Dominique quickly dropped her legs to the floor and swung upright, coming to a stand and heading for the door almost as quickly as she must have come through it. “I know the feeling. Think breakfast will do you a little good?” She asked, stopping and looking out into the hall outside of Livewire’s open door.
“Yeah, actually, it might,” Kaitlyn replied, before adding, “But you can’t cook.”
This obviously irked Dominique, at least slightly, causing her to give the teen a semi-passive, semi-annoyed glare. “Listen to you, I can’t- Yeah, you’re right. I was hoping you would instead.” She restarted her sentence midway and shook her head, smirking as she tried to shake away the truth in her friend’s words.
Livewire lifted an arm from her side and drew a circle up into the air, her bracelets swiveling about noisily. “I know. ‘It would help the kid feel more welcome’ too, eh?” By now, she had realized that was what Dominique was trying to pitch. She didn’t mind much, either – mainly because she hadn’t really interacted with Psyche since she was tossed aside, topside on Typhon. Her bad attitude about things had dissipated, as well, after the awkward and highly embarrassing incident in Dominique’s room, with Haven. It was apparent to both of them they were avoiding mentioning that in the conversation. Kaitlyn was glad.
“… You read my mind. Hey, if you don’t feel like-” Dominique said, slightly startled at Livewire’s willingness to help the cause.
“I’m up for it. I’ll be down in 15. I need to shower.” She responded, quietly, slightly interrupting Dominique. She grinned faintly after a moment. “What? A girl’s got to eat.”
Dominique would have normally been confused. But after a few moments, she understood. This was Livewire’s way of apologizing. The tall blonde raised her eyebrows and nodded astutely. “Glad to hear it. I’ll go ahead and find Denise, then.” She turned to leave, but was spoken to yet again.
“Hey, Dom…” Kaitlyn forced out, fighting her own stubborn instinct.
“What?”
“Thanks.”
Dominique laughed, failing to stifle it. She was glad she wasn’t smoking at the moment – she’d have been coughing up a storm. The Phoenix smiled a little and quickly left.
After a few short moments, Livewire understood.
* * *
“Isn’t that dangerous? What happened?” Psyche inquired, watching Seth intently. The look on her face was nothing short of completely captivated, and genuine, at that.
“It’s pretty dangerous, yeah. Dominique prefers that we be careful… But we had no choice. Cube and I took the Einlanzer as low as we could – we were almost riding on the tops of cars.” He joked slightly, though she seemed to almost take it literally, gasping quietly. It was humorous in a way, how she reacted, and it only caused Gryphon to try to glorify the tale even more as he told it.
The young girl didn’t seem to mind, though. She was enjoying herself. “Oh... But wasn’t it storming? That’s unbelievable.” Truthfully, he couldn’t really remember if it was even cold that night, let alone did he know if it was storming.
‘Whatever sounds best, Seth. Denise said keep her occupied, so keep at it.’ He thought to himself. “It was, it was a pretty rough thunderstorm,” he continued on, actually getting into it himself and detailing the events of what had to be the most remarkable airborne escape he’d ever heard of, and leaving nothing to her imagination. The look on her face was frozen in both astonishment, and what seemed like mid-blush. Needless to say, he didn’t get it.
Unfortunately, before he had the chance to finish, the hand on his shoulder broke his attention from the far-fetched narrative he was creating. Dominique politely shoved him aside and out of his seat on the table, grinning and raising her eyebrow at him. “You’ll scare the poor kid, Seth. She just woke up.”
Seth had a look on his face as if he was going to say something important, and merely sighed. “Eh, well. I was just substituting for Denise.” Substituting seemed like an appropriate word indeed. For the last two days or so, Cube had been dragging the child along with her so she could observe the, often disastrous, task of refueling the ships alone. Dominique doubted that was the best way to entertain the girl, but figured there wasn’t much else to do on topsides; unless kids now were into watching the gulls.
The blonde ditched her trench coat and dropped it to the floor, pulling her chair in close to the table and leaning on her elbows, watching Psyche with a smile. “So, how are you holding in?”
Psyche pulled her eyes away from Seth as he took his seat elsewhere on one of the other circular tables in the mess hall, and met Dominique’s, smiling a tiny bit and speaking up. “I’m just fine.”
Dominique felt the urge to ask the girl for her true name once more, as she did at least once every day since they had brought her back to Typhon, but thought against it, instead looking up at the ceiling. She and Sphinx spent much of the last evening reinstalling the lights, the room now brilliantly lit and nearly giving the illusion of ‘daytime’ - which it was pretty much, but all things considered, that didn’t really matter.
Dominique spoke a little louder, just so Psyche could hear her; her voice nearly being drowned out by the laughing and conversing of the other members. “Livewire and Cube should be almost done, now.”
“Done with breakfast, right? Seth told me.” She said immediately, almost a matter-of-factly.
“Did he…?” Dom responded, nonchalantly looking over to the rest of the Angels, who were paying no attention to them at all. “Well, yeah, normally we don’t have group meals like this, but every once and awhile there’s an exception.”
“C’mon, lemme kiss the cook.” Haven said loudly over the others, coming to a stand and walking to Livewire, who brushed him off as quickly as he arrived.
“Why don’t start by kissing my ass, Josh?” She spat at the redhead, rolling her eyes and passing by the table where he, Sphinx, and the two twins were sitting. The large Middle-Eastern man watched them almost as nonchalantly as Dominique, while Rook and Bishop laughed up a storm, much to Haven’s discretion. Seth soon joined in, taking a seat near the Twins, and Icarus grinned at his post on the wall, having already eaten before the rest.
Kaitlyn, with the help of Denise, were dropping off dishes that emitted a breathtaking aroma Dominique knew all to well, and only was blessed with once in a blue moon: that of scrambled eggs. And it made her smile and lean back in her chair so far she had to hold herself at the table with her legs to keep from falling.
Psyche leaned over slowly and whispered quietly, “Livewire is…cooking?”
Dominique laughed aloud, catching the attention of the others as she spoke. “Definitely, Psyche. Kaitlyn may be a city girl, but she knows how to fix up a mean pancake, that’s for sure.”
“I did aspire to be a chef, after all- That is, before I got stuck here.” Livewire suddenly added, Cube shaking her head and grinning, the conversing among the others increasing in volume two fold. Icarus coughed into his fist, taking a seat at the end of the table Dominique and Psyche were at, and Rook motioned his hand to Kate, enjoying her role as resident waitress, apparently.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take… Let’s see – Oh, I’d like to try the bullshit again, please? If that’s available?” Bishop burst into laughter even harder, leaning against the table and barely able to add, “Ding, ding! Another order of BS, coming’ right up!” He continued laughing, mimicking her voice as best as his odd European accent would allow.
That line only caused more laughter and more bickering, which Dominique could have watched for days, if not interrupted once more by a now slightly timid, Psyche. “Dominique… What’s a pancake?”
Dominique merely smiled. “You haven’t lived. Not until now, kid.”
Ten minutes later, it was becoming apparent Dominique was right. For a moment, the blonde wondered if they had fed her since she had arrived, simply because the young, mysterious girl was eating at such an incredibly voracious pace. It was almost as entertaining as Livewire’s constant quips with Haven and Sphinx, and she really couldn’t decide which she felt like watching over the other.
Psyche grabbed her attention once more, ending the quandary of hers immediately. “Dominique…”
“Yes?”
“Why are you all here?”
The suddenness of this question caused Dominique to lean back towards the table, narrowing her eyes, somewhat confused. “… Just what do you mean?”
“Sorry, I just… I don’t understand why all of you are…” She was obviously searching for words that wouldn’t offend Dominique – not that she could, Dom was just glad she was opening up about things, regardless of how. “Why all of you are out here.”
For a moment, Phoenix stayed quiet, startled, and had the others not been lost in their own conversations and mirth, it’d have been deathly quiet. “I’m not a liberty to say because it’s not something I can explain.” After a moment, she realized that wasn’t much of an answer, and tried again, this time clearing her throat and leaning in even closer across the plate in front of her, cleared of scrambled eggs.
“Here’s the thing though, Psyche… We’re all here for a reason. And here, we’re never one to question the reasons and logic of each other as to why we do what we do, because we’re all we got. We’re here because out there, we don’t belong, for one reason or another.” She reached for her fork, took in another bite of her pancake, and watched the girl, chewing thoughtfully.
“… I don’t belong out there either, do I?” Psyche said, as if about to lower her head. Dominique swallowed hard, cursing herself inside for giving her the wrong impression. Without delay, she corrected herself.
“… That’s not true. I have no intention of keeping you here. Not too long, anyway. I’m going to make sure you get your chance to belong out there. That’s… A promise, I suppose.”
“Alright…” Psyche stated after a lengthy pause, smiling, if only barely.
Dominique moved her fork around in her dish, not bothering to eat anymore, but keeping her hands busy. “It’s ironic that you’re so inquisitive about things, when you don’t have to ask for answers.” She looked at her plate, and then back at Psyche.
The young girl blinked, “That doesn’t mean… I haven’t been looking.”
“What do you mean?” Dom queried, raising an eyebrow, wondering if Psyche was talking about herself.
“Some of you I can’t read… You, the one time, just fine, but…” Her brown eyes were focused on the table and nothing else. Dominique looked around, in wonder, everyone else still busy with their own tête-à-tête.
“’Some of you’ like who?” She asked in the lowest tone she could, almost as if gossiping, but half serious as well.
Psyche looked up at her, and sharply averted her eyes over to Raven.
Claudia sat alone, at the far wall, and it was hard to tell if she was asleep or just bored. Her hair, as always, partially obscured her face, and her head lay back against the wall, eyes closed, and silent.
“When…?” Dom continued to pry, deeply fascinated.
“Last night.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing… Dominique, what’s her reason-” Before she was able to finish, Dominique spoke slowly, watching Claudia intensely, expressionless.
“Psyche… We’re all here for a reason. Even you,” She smiled slowly, looking back at Psyche and setting her fork back down at the edge of her plate. She knew that no matter how powerful Psyche was, it was doubtful she could see everything. The young, liberated psychic could not see what others tried so hard to forget inside. Just like when she tried to read Dominique.
The blonde brushed her bangs aside and continued; her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands. “Some reasons are just better left… Alone.”
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