Cuckoo and Sparrow (Young Justice)

Myra's Beginning

Credit @Pockypanda31 for help in making this OC

Deranged, malicious, boisterous laughter rang out through the near-empty warehouse, and long after it stopped it kept ringing in her ears. The little girl pulled on her headphones but didn't dare turn the volume up all the way in fear of missing something, some kind of danger that her ears could warn her about. She breathed in and out steadily as her mother had taught her.

She readjusted her forest green space buns and rubbed at her eyes, before lightly tracing her fingers over the long thin, and irritated cut along her left eye, the blue one, that was beginning to scar over. Her right eye was green. Like his. She despised it and him. Her Mom's eyes were blue, like her left. The one he tried to ruin. The girl was named Myra Quinzel.

She sat on the dingy cot in the small room, they would only be here shortly before going back to the old abandoned amusement park that her father loved so much for some reason or another. She didn't know why she couldn't stay back at the park by herself, though she wasn't sure she'd want to, with all those creepy goons around and without her Mom to scare them away.

She tugged at the sleeves of her pajamas around her wrists. She wore a white long-sleeve shirt over her training bra, along with a tie-dyed green and purple tee shirt, thick gray sweatpants, and green fuzzy socks. She pulled the blankets up around her, she had a bunch on her bed, and her Mom somehow always knew the right amount to bring to keep her warm without overheating.

The sound of explosions no longer made the girl flinch. They were common around her since she was a baby. That's part of the reason her Mom got her the headphones, so she could muffle the sound and drown it out. The other reason was to keep her calm, and the panic and anxiety attacks she would have at bay with brown noise. She loved the sound of brown noise. It was calm and rumbly and she liked the low tones in it.

So when she heard multiple explosions throughout the night she wasn't concerned. Not all of them woke her up, but some did. The louder ones. After a particularly loud one and some glass shattering her Mom ran into her room, scooped her and her already-packed bag into her arms, and fled. She always left the bag packed, never knowing when she'd have to flee, like now.

Her Mom's red and black Harlequin costume was always a comfort for her to see since she didn't wear anything else. She watched over her Mom's shoulder as the white pom poms on the top of her hat bounced. She focused on that. She always tried to distract herself, as her Mom told her to. Focus your senses on one thing, her Mom would say. So she focused her eyes on the white pom, instead of the flashing light that occasionally illuminated the dark walls. She focused on her Mom's soft body against hers as she held her in her arms so tight. She focused on the brown noise instead of the more constant explosions and maniacal laughter and boisterous sound of her father taunting 'Batsy'.

She had never met him, but her parents spoke about him a lot. She snuck a peek a few times, finding an odd man in a giant bat costume. Her father always tried to get her involved in the family business, much to her Mom's displeasure. Mom argued with him rarely, but when she did, it was always about her. It also always ended up in beatings. Usually just for her Mom but when she was around it was her getting them too. She got them when she disobeyed, and when he felt like it.

Myra didn't know what to think about Batman, her Mom was conflicted as well. She seemed, in Myra's opinion, to be conflicted with herself more than anything. Recently her Mom has been talking about taking her away to her friend Ivy and leaving her father, not that he really deserved that title. She never said anything in front of him and told Myra not to tell. Myra was good at that, secret-keeping. She kept lots of things from her father, she was rather good at it too. When a goon would mess something up and she was around they would panic in fear that she would tell and they too would be punished. She never told on them, they learned that quickly, she would even help them with their mess up if she could. If the mess-up wasn't fixed before he found out he'd be in a bad mood. When he was in a bad mood she nearly always hurt for days, as did her Mom.