Whoo! Congrats on the great response for the interview, and Hellboy here's my half of the deal xD :
Aquila stood with her train ticket, holding her bag in her other hand. And then she stepped out of the train, eyes wide as people glared at her. She saw some people, probably her own age, whispering about her. Aquila quickly placed her ear buds into her ears, listening to whatever random song played on shuffle. She didn’t listen to lyrics as she pretended not to hear the sneers at her pathetic excuse for a fashion sense. She should’ve known. London meant pulling out leather jackets, I love London shirts with the flag inside a heart, and skinny jeans with converses. Not a light pink baby doll dress and boyfriend jeans with white high-heeled shoes and a slim white shrug cardigan.
She raced out of the underground, upstairs and hailed a taxi. She jumped in, as the man smiled and politely asked where she was heading. “Anywhere.” She said, handing over a fist full of twenty-pound notes. “Anywhere but here.”
The bleak darkness of the night cornered London quickly that day. The taxi drove down an empty road, flying through the streets. Aquila sat in the back, staring out of the window at the lights that flooded the city.
It happened so quickly, Aquila didn’t even realise it.
The driver swerved on the road, just missing a man with a top hat that stood in the centre of the road. Aquila screamed as the car toppled over onto its side, and blood ran down her face. She had hit her head on the glass of the window, and she could smell gas.
The man walked over to the car, pulled Aquila out of the wreck quickly, and put her aching body over his shoulder. He ran into the darkness and the bleak of the night, as Aquila gripped onto his coat tightly, watching the car as the blood dripped onto the street below. In a split second, the car ignited, and exploded like a firework blazing in the road. Aquila could hear the sirens, chasing after the light.
The man put Aquila down, letting her back lean against a brick wall. He stepped back, keeping his hat low, as Aquila stared at the fire that burnt in the sky from the car. “What the hell was that?” Aquila asked, finding her breath.
“Oh nothing,” The man said, tipping his hat. “That guy is just being controlled by some super secret badass villain, and I thought I should stop your fate turning out like his.”
“He might’ve been innocent before-”
“Don’t argue: it was his life or twenty more. Don’t go round tellin’ people that I stopped by, ya hear me?”
Aquila looked up at the man, noticing the frame of his shoulders, how the corners of his lips showed no emotion; how his eyes blazed and shinned in the sliver of moonlight that hit his pupils.
“You’re Springheeled Jack.” Aquila whispered stunned. “Don’t touch me.”
“Just because I’m a bad guy, doesn’t mean I’m really a bad guy.”
Aquila laughed. “I think I heard that at the movies. It means you play on the evil side, do bad things, but in total, you’re not a bad person. Someone who kills for a living is always a bad guy.”
“What makes you say that? All those people who fought in the war were killing each other. No one thought they were bad, did they?” Jack muttered, tipping his hat low again.
“In World War One, men from certain ages were forced to go to war after the propaganda posters stopped influencing people to-”
“I weren’t talkin’ about any Mortal War missy.”
Aquila’s face went red. “I said for a living.” Aquila muttered, as Jack watched the fire department struggle to put out the fire in the distance. The flames glowered with rage, flickering through the London Sky. “They weren’t killing for a living. You do it. You kill people, don’t you?”
Jack went silent, kicking a rock across the gravel. “You said those Mortals were forced, didn’t cha?” Aquila nodded, feeling the blood drip from her cheek. “Who said we weren’t?”
Aquila blinked, unsure what to say. And Jack dashed off, rounding the corner and disappearing. Aquila looked upwards, and saw his nimble figure leaping through the air, across the rooftops at such an alarming speed that Aquila wasn’t even sure if she had seen it.
“Hey!” Someone called. “Are you okay?”
Skyril Oblivion stepped in Aquila’s line of view. “No.” Aquila yelled. “I’m not.”
Aquila jumped up, and started to walk off. “Wait, what happened to your cheek?” Skyril asked, pulling Aquila back by her sleeve.
“I’m not blind. It’s right there. And it’s bleeding. Come on, I’ll get you to a hospital.”
Aquila turned and punched Skyril in the face. Skyril spluttered, falling to the floor while Aquila ran and sprung into the air, her clothes ripping off as wings spread out from her body. The same eagle form that Skyril had seen Skylara use an hour ago took flight into the murky London air, disappearing from sight.
Skyril didn’t try to stop her. She just let go, crashing backwards onto the ground. Skyril could see the feathered shape spin in the air while she looked up to the moon, wondering what she was supposed to do next.
Oooh, dramatic or what? Anyway, who's already in a Christmas-ie mood (I am!) and who's getting ready for Halloween (Not me...)But i'll show you why in a later post ;)