There is an autumn chill in the air whenever Carly flies off to New York. The moon hangs large and ripe in the night, as if ready for harvest. She flies quickly, hoping that the rush of air will help the blood circulate in her veins, but it only quickens the rise of the goosebumps appearing on her arms. She rubs her hands together, still flying for the city, because she can’t turn down the escapade just because of a slight cold front. She thinks that she will go out even if it was double digits below zero.
She thirsts for a nice, warm fight to warm her up. Some prefer pumpkin spice lattes; she searches for a different sort of ornament to spice up her life. The air is quick, a whirl all around her, and it upsets her hair which flurries around her. The brunette strands tangle up in her mask and she stalls for a little bit to sort herself out. She quakes in the wind, haphazardly putting the mask back on so that her hands are free to rub her arms. It does a little to lessen the prickles of cold.
It would be so cozy to snuggle up against danger and defeat which would have the same effect as a warm fire. It is a good thing that Carly has a good eye for action, and she sees a dart of gold through an open window.
Her eyes widen and her mouth falls open slightly. It has been two long weeks since she has seen him caught up in an external battle. She chases after the figure, ready to marvel at his grace and prowess. He reminds her that she has so much left to learn. He has been robbed of a brother, of a whole slew of could have’s and should have’s, and she has, too. A whole possible life has been snatched from her, but she knows that it doesn’t hurt nearly to the same magnitude that Daniel has suffered.
Following after him in a mad sprint, she realizes that he is still suffering. It is painfully obvious that he is suffering, his movements are not as precise as they usually are. He is slow and his face is deathly somber. A slow, gold burn exits his fingertips as he halfheartedly torches a cumbersome gargoyle.
Carly tosses a blue sphere at its wings, and pebbles erupt from where it has struck it, yet it still manages to remain upright. It turns slowly to face her, hovering in the same spot. The gargoyle looks at her with eyes of obsidian. It grins, a row of sapphires for teeth- the same strong color that tingles in Carly’s hands. It’s teeth look cold and sharp and when she is Vertigo, she is much the same way.
She charges at it, blue blazing all around her. She pushes telekinetically, and the stone creature crashes into the closest skyscraper with a thundersome thud. Cracks appear across the gargoyle’s belly and the same jagged edges appear on the skyscraper’s surface, but it is in no obvious danger of toppling over.
The creature growls, it sounds heavy and gravelly, and it rumbles into the night. The power behind its voice causes Carly’s heart to twist in excitement. This stone beast provides the exact type of warmth that she needs. It shakes its head, pebbles and jewels rolling slowly out of its cracked belly.
“Nice to have you back,” Carly tells Daniel while the creature is still too stunned to react. He nods, and Carly notices that he is gripping at his left shoulder. His entire left arm hangs limply, a bit longer than the right, and his shoulder comes out at an awkward angle.
“I’m really off my game,” he tries to smile, but it is too much of an effort and his face falls as flat as his voice sounds.
“Oh god, are you badly hurt?”
“Yeah,” he admits, “But it’s not the arm.” He squeezes his eyes shut, and with a grunt, manages to push his shoulder back in place. He breathes heavily, and rolls his shoulder gingerly, testing it for stiffness and pain. The skin on his left forearm has been rubbed away, and droplets of blood trace their way down his arm.
Daniel looks at Carly, eyes broken over the past few weeks. But after a while, they shimmer golden, the same promising color of the stars overhead. His body glows and a scowl makes its way in between his eyebrows just as a smirk crawls onto his lips. He shakes his head, both angry and sad. Like Carly, he needs this fight. But it is for entirely different reasons. He has been pent up too long, living in the nightmare inside his head and feeding the fast-growing demons. He has forgotten the taste of the wind on his lips and the burn of adrenaline through his veins.
YOU ARE READING
kent
Action[#83 Action] (nanowrimo 2014) Just outside New York City, there is a high school senior with the misfortune of being named after Superman himself. Clark Kent's parents are geeks. His brother is a geek. He is a geek, too. However, opposites don't att...
