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Call a dog and they come, call
a cat and they take a message
and get back to you later.
Oldwrench, chat 13th Apr


Firefox 3
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In the Rain Scene

by Kira


He sits at his desk, shaking in fury. Disgusted with himself. Disappointing everyone, even himself. Most of all the one true person he cares most about. She claims her words are acid, no they are not, they are the stench of truth. Even she is beginning to doubt. He tries again and again to calm and relax, to put on his facade. A fake smile, so that she would not worry. The words that burn like acid are when she says, ‘I believe in you’. Why, why, why. Why does she believe in me. What rights have I ever given her to believe in me. It rings in his mind. He stare at her text. ‘I believe in you’. He curses himself. He's disgusted, but not at her. It burns him with anger and passion. Fury builds in him. He takes off at a sprint. The wind brushes his hair. He never even realized when he leapt out his window. Freedom, the cool air on the back of his neck, the icy sweat relieving his stress. He reaches out for a near by pole and swings like a gymnast. He swings his body again and leaps from it. He spirals in the air, swinging from pole to pole.

He lands on the roof of a building. He had swung himself higher. He perches himself on top a flat gargoyle. He shuts his eyes and breathes deeply. He finally begins to even it out. He opens his eyes. As dark clouds begin to form above him, what starts out as a drizzle spurts into a downpour. He raises his hands up. Letting the rain consume his body. Icy particles cools off, his heated body. His mind and body washes over. His right leg begins to wobble. His constant reminder of just how weak he truly is. Though is body is toned, coming from the most perfect genes anyone could ever ask for, He is not like them. The ones who mad him into existence. He was just as weak and fragile as any other normal average man. Though he trained and exercise, pushing his body to the limit. He will never be like them. The lords among flies. Gods. Titans. Mighty Men.

He thinks of his brother. Three years younger than him, and he’s taller, stronger, faster, more muscular than him. Perfect in every sense of the word. Truly the rightful heir to their father, the family name. King Lazarus of the thirteen houses. He comes from a long line, before them, each one respected. Like his father and Grandfather, His brother’s life came naturally easy for him. He sighs. He stands in the rain, cool, calm. Alone. He closes his eyes. All he can see is her. Her face, so natural, so plain, so beautiful in every sense of the word. Her long brunette hair flowing in the wind, dancing. Her warm, big deep ocean blue eyes, piercing him, breaking him. Her soft rose petal lips. He blinks. A raindrop falls, living for a few short seconds before dying on her rose petal lips. He blinks again. Realizing, she is no longer a burning mental picture, a scar that was permanently left in his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, she was there, staring at him, with those endless sea blue eyes. His eyes now open. Somehow, maybe finally developed his powers. He could will things to life, or create a three-dimensional picture from his minds.

Suddenly she blinks, sighing. Shivering in the cold. A big heavy sweater embracing her. He realizes it’s a sweater he had lent her. For it was two sizes to big on her, then she finally spoke, “Well?” She looked and sounded irritated and tired. he stands awestruck. Not sure if she’s real or imagine yet. She walks over to the gargoyle, she smiles at him, “’Ello Bruce, How are you?” She smiles staring at him as she waits for him to answer, “ I know, he does seem in bad shape, I thank you, you always do take care of him for me.” Her smile so warm. Even in the rain, she was radiant. Nothing ever seem to bother her, will except for me, he thought. There was this forever hedge around her, protecting her from rain.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, coldly. Maybe to coldly, she looked slightly hurt and taken backed. He sighed, “I’m sorry.”

She ignored it completely, “I’m here because I care.” She snorted. He turned his back towards her. He begins to shake again, she reaches for him and hugs him from behind. He didn’t want this, as much as he did want it, need it. He cursed himself. She would be so much happier without me, without knowing me. As much as it pained him, he wished she would hate him, despise him, at times, there were moments when she was annoyed, irritated with him. She would push him, as he wanted. Soon fear gripped, knowing that was she obeying. She was going to turn her back, walk away, as it should be, as should have been. Yet he reached out and grabbed her. Was he playing a game and not realize, seeing how much she could take. Sometimes he would milk it. Pushing it to an extent to see just how much would and could take. Yet though it all, here she was, in the cold rain. Holding him. He sighed and breathed in her sweet strawberry scent. It burned his nostril, with a loving passion. He melted at her every touch. Even now, as the heat from both their bodies radiated them. The rain began to light up.

“What time is it?” He breathed out.

“two in the morning,” She sighed, “You know I have work in the morning. Eight hours.” She groaned, she needed her rest, he curses himself again. That’s all he was ever good at, keeping her up. “I know what you thinking.”

“Can you blame me?” He slumped over.

“Well then I guess you’ll just have to relax, so I can sleep.” The hatred of himself builds up again. She sighs, feeling his heat flaring, “You know what I mean. Are you okay, now? And don’t just say you are.”

“Leave me. “ He looks up at the sky, he reaches out.


“Thunder, I use it.”

“Oh.” She says in understanding. She gathers herself. She takes a peek at him. She sighs. She looks straight out, as her body, begins to float. She then glides off the roof. Into the sky like a beautiful angel.

He stands stills, the rain starts up again. He clenches his hands into two tight balls, a mixture of blood and water droop to the roofs floor. He stares up, his eyes tightly close, at the same time as a loud crack shakes the earth, he screams, “I want to be stronger!” he huffs and puffs. His hands are tightly cramped. It takes almost all his strength to open them, letting the blood flow circulate. His leg gives and crashes to his knees, cursing himself again. He toys the idea of not having a leg. At least one pain would cease to exist, he thinks to himself, why must I be so powerless.

He slowly gets up, catching his right leg. Supporting it. His constant reminder of being born normal. Why he couldn’t do the things he wished he could. He loves baseball, as long as he didn’t strain to much, he could play with rest of the normal people, but not a game with his fellow kinship. He also loved to run, he was a runner. Even with his leg in the shape it was in, he was still one of the fastest, for a normal person. Though it does bother him so much, he is thankful, proud of himself. He came up against a demon that had threaten his life, and he faced that demon head on. If you could call it a victory, the leg was a trophy to show that we wasn’t afraid. That he was willing to fight. And fight back hard. It was one of his most darkest moment. And she was there. Why was she there, why did she care so much. Even as much as I played tug of war, push and hold her at the same time. She should just ignore me, no matter how much I fought back and pushed to keep her, she could have easily ignored me. Though he always sensed a fear, a fear he couldn’t understand.

Many times she would tell him, ‘I hope you would find someone better’ yet he sensed a fear in her voice, but why? Was she afraid to lose him, did she need him more than she claimed she didn’t. Was there a part of her that couldn’t let him go. As much as she got annoyed and irritated, could she not let him go? In a sense was he hers? Was she so used and comfortable with the idea, of him always being there. No matter what? Comforting to know that no matter how ‘bad’ she got with him, no matter how much she hurt him, he was still there, to protect her, to defend her, take care of, comfort her, help boost her self-esteem, to the very bitter end. Did she need him more than he thought, more than she lead on?

He opened his eyes to brush off the silliness of the questions. Of course not, how foolish. He wished there was something he could do for her, that no one else could. The only thing he ever felt good at, was offering his all to her, his friendship, his very heart, his time, patience. He promised himself he would be nothing but patient with her. His very care and understanding. His very life if need be. He would smile at his final last act of bravery, chivalry, going in a blaze of glory, like some cowboy or a champion samurai.

The street seems empty, as if she entered into her own personal world. The rain starts up. She was lucky to grab her yellow raincoat. He was still in her mind. Still watching out for her, even in death. Tonight, those responsible for his death were gonna pay. As she walks in the middle of the road, she shuts her eyes. She remembers her last night with him. He was nervous, sitting in the chair of the hotel room, the way the room was built, his chair was angled at the bathroom. She purposely had left the door ajar, just a creak for him to sneak a peek if he wanted to. He was noble, but when it came to her, he was never that noble. She was smiling to her, fixing herself, getting ready for a shower. It had been a long day. Starting with their awkward reunion. She had left him to protect him, thinking he was just a normal man. Not knowing that he was like her, not exactly, but in the sense he too possessed unique ability. That he would in fact be the guardian he promised her, he would be.

She never would have guessed it was him to have met her on the pier that night. At first she found it to much of an coincidence, she pulled her gun on him. He explained himself. Told her that he too had gifts. She explained her story, how the government was looking for her, for what she knew, for what was inside her mind. All they both knew was that, at that exact moment in time, they had to find each other.

He gets up from his chair and walks to the bathroom door, like he wants to knock on it, she senses him, her back pressed again the wall, watching the door, waiting for him to knock on it. He chicken outs and paces around the room, he stops stares at the room clock. She paces the bathroom, tapping her toes. He starts to pace again, then he just barges into the bathroom.

“Sorry, I- I thought the bathroom was on fire.” He stands at the frame of the door.

She, laughs to herself. She gets up and walks towards him, she pushes him.

“You push me?” He asks.

“Don't like it? Then push back.” She tells him in a playful manner.

They both meet in a kiss. She wraps her arms around the back his neck, His hands begin to explore her familiar body. Knowing all the right places she liked to be touched. After their brief moment of bliss and sharing the shower, she knows him being with her is dangerous. She tells him of her plan, and that she doesn't want him to be hurt, he suggests splitting up, making him the bate. He insures her, that he found her once, he can find her again. She doesn't want to argue, they share a bed, and sleep, or lack their of. She could never get enough of him, and she wanted their reunion to be memorable.

That next morning, they took the bate and nearly killed him, while she was able to find another place to stay for the night. He returns to her, broken and beaten, he crashes onto the bed with her, they cuddle. She shakes in his arms, she's slowly dying and he knows its. “They” had the cure she needs and he was going to get it at any cost.

“I'll come back for you, I promise.” Was his final promise to her. He hands her a letter. They kiss for what will be their final time. Now he's gone. And they're all gonna pay. As she walks the weather seems to react to her emotions. The rain pours heavy as her tears streams her face. As she walks she feels the heat of laser sights on her. She looks up and stares at the men in what looks like military swat gear. She goes to raise her hands, as she does something glimmers in the night light, a metal pin on her finger, the men look at her other hand and see the grenade in her hand. She's still holding it shut. Her breathing quickens, they all stand in a stalemate.

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