"I can't believe they've gotten this close!" A spunky red-haired woman leaned back, relaxed. Quite contrary to the man beside her, who was sweating profusely, removing his black feather coat.
"H-how are you this calm?!"
"Psh, why are you so stressed?"
"No, no, no, you first."
"Alright. It's because we have the Carsmiles on our side. You've seen their power, and Marty hasn't even begun with his adversaries..." Nastassia adjusted her glasses, the glow of the blue screens shimmering against them."...Besides them, we still have five mutants on our side guarding us on your command. Speaking of, don't look this weak in front of them. You're their commander, after all."
"I guess so..." The man poured himself a drink to soothe his nerves, still unsettled by his proximity to the danger.
"DEMARCO."
"Not this again..."
A man, ginger in appearance, just shy of 6 ft, sporting a side buzz cut and a gelled over top, slammed down his fist on the table. Swan eyed his outfit, a white crop top, golden chain, black army boots, and camouflage pants as the man nearly growled at him.
"I DEMAND AN APOLOGY!"
"Listen, Barkley, we're in the middle of something important can you just watch the door with everyo-"
"NO. You owe me an apology. You and the other people running this place ranked me THIRD strongest in our mutant ranks."
"Well, it was mostly me who assessed your potential and how well you performed, if you do recall." Natassia spoke up.
"WELL, THEY'RE WRONG!"
"How so?"
"The two ranked above me, Oscar and Fonata, both failed on their missions, while I have been undefeated!"
"That's because you've never been sent out on a mission yet."
"AND WHY IS THAT?"
"Because we need you here defending us in case of possible intruders, like right now!" Natassia omitted the fact that he wouldn't take orders from anyone but Swan due to his stubborn personality, which would jeopardize the missions.
"Fine." Barkley soon backed off, regrouping himself with the others at the dining table in the other room. Opposite of him sat a man paralyzed from the waist down, who could only move around in his wheelchair. His brunette hair covered his eyes and he wore a rose sweater and grey-blue jeans.
"We're going to have to fight, aren't we?" He sighed, disappointed.
"Shut up Mika, you pansy. We'll crush them before they even know it! Hehehehe...." An energetic punk woman criticized the young man's attitude. Her hair was purple and styled as a mohawk, piercings to match. She wore a denim jacket with different pins and buttons, ripped leather pants, her sneakers matching the color of her hair, her skin having a tan to it.
"You are sure are cocky for number 7, Stauber." The ginger teased.
"Oh, stuff it, Barkley. What's with you and numbers? The ranking is meaningless if you just start falling apart in battle."
"NO! RESPECT THE RANKINGS!"
"Aren't you the one who's always bitching about being number 3? Heh, you're a fucking mess dude."
"All I'm saying is that in the top three, there's a definite grey area where we are all on par with each other. I'm definitely stronger than Fonata, if I just had a warm-up..." Barkley took a bite out of a stale sandwich while grumbling.
YOU ARE READING
Fallen Rose
Fantasy2001, a famed musician under stress due to a multitude of unfortunate events; A loss of two lives dear to him, a jailed fiance, a crumbling mind as he cares for his daughter alone. He's been brought under a new pressure as soon as everything settles...
