On Blackened Wings They Rose
My brain apparently refuses to grasp the concept that I have several other long-fills I should be working on. It's trying to draw me to this prompt, now. *headdesk*
Prompt, once again from the yj_anon_meme:
Okay. We've had a bit of genderbending. And some great evil counterparts.
...How about evil genderbent counterparts? Just them being evil and genderbent, all the other characters normal gender and alliances.
Something along the lines of (though any writeranon/artanon can feel free to make up their own ideas):
Robin: A girl named Giggles, raised by Joker.
Kid Flash: Zoom thought it would be funny to brainwash Flash's neice and put her through the experiment that gave Flash his powers.
Miss Martian: An evil White Martian male.
Red Arrow: Rei Harper turned to the dark side after leaving Green Arrow.
Superboy: Female clone loyal to Cadmus.
Artemis: A boy named Orion who's quite obediant to his father's wishes.
Aqualad: The young Atlantean girl defected when she found out who her father was.
Seriously brain. Seriously?
You get backstories/introductions. I refuse to promise more than this. >>
---
“Well. Who’s this little cutie.” The Joker leaned down and poked the pouting girl. She was probably what, nine? She was dressed in bright colors, and her spiky black hair was pragmatically short.
She wasn’t scared.
Joker poked her in the forehead again, then gave his best grimace.
“So,” he said. “you wanna know how I got these scars?”
Her blue eyes lit up, and her grin was bright in the flickering light of the burning circus.
“Yeah. I’d like that.”
---
M’cal M’orzz smiled with pointed teeth as he relished the warm sunlight and flew through the desert. It was heat without danger, a rarity on Mars.
Below him, some human army or another saw him and started shooting. He dodged without difficulty and smiled again.
“That wasn’t really a good idea.”
Later, reports from Bialya would describe the slaughtering force as numbering in the dozens, but the Martian Manhunter would read them and know the signs. He would know it was just one.
---
Kalda’rm had known for years that she didn’t belong. She was strong, and quick, and understood concepts that took others at the Academy much longer. And she felt the rush of power, when the others stood there and struggled.
The first time she looked into someone’s eyes and saw something other than that enviable weakness, Atlantis had been attacked, and the eyes had been hidden behind thick plates of glass on a helmet. But the feeling was there, and she followed, out of curiosity as much as anything else.
And when they had reached the surface and the stranger had turned and removed his helmet, Kalda had seen her own gray eyes looking back at her.
They were smiling.
---
When Barry Allen’s eleven year-old niece vanished from her school, leaving her chemistry textbooks fallen on the sidewalk, he had panicked. For the next several weeks, Central City saw its resident speedster doing extra patrols and searching the darkest alleys with no success.
Several months later, when the Flash saw familiar green eyes looking out at him from beneath cropped red hair and a yellow mask, he had mourned. For all the warmth and joy those green eyes held, they may as well have belonged to a corpse, and it was on that day that Barry Allen stopped trying to find his niece.
Four years later, a teenage girl remembered the death of her guardian and mentor at the hands of a hero’s righteous anger, and plotted her revenge.
---
Ever since he was young, Orion had heard his father’s voice and known it would not steer him wrong.
“Envision the arrow’s path.”
“Yes, Father.”
For the first time, the six year-old’s arrow hit the target, rather than falling too short or too long.
“Hold your arm steady.”
“Yes, Father.”
The arrow split its predecessor down the middle, in a feat the nine year-old had dreamed of since he saw the elder do it.
“Do not allow the target to distract you.”
As the twelve year-old stared down the nocked arrow at his unwary target, he smiled and let loose. The arrow did not miss.
“Yes, Father.”
---
“You don’t respect me. I’ve fought by your side for years, and you don’t’ trust me with this.”
The red-haired girl stood alone facing the older heroes. They were all older than her, all oh-so sure of their own righteousness. She removed her hat and flung it at her former teacher.
She left without a word. Sometimes, she knew, silence was far stronger.
Later, Rei Harper would abandon her costume but not her mask or bow. For now, though, she lurked in the shadows as she infiltrated the burning lab.
An elevator?
Fifty-two floors down, she fought (and lost to) a tall girl with black hair and even more anger than Rei.
Rei was offered a chance to choose: The Justice League, or the shadow-group calling itself the Light?
Seeing the offered friendship in the eyes of the girl she had fought, and the promise of respect in the rest, it was an easy decision.
---
Prompt, once again from the yj_anon_meme:
Okay. We've had a bit of genderbending. And some great evil counterparts.
...How about evil genderbent counterparts? Just them being evil and genderbent, all the other characters normal gender and alliances.
Something along the lines of (though any writeranon/artanon can feel free to make up their own ideas):
Robin: A girl named Giggles, raised by Joker.
Kid Flash: Zoom thought it would be funny to brainwash Flash's neice and put her through the experiment that gave Flash his powers.
Miss Martian: An evil White Martian male.
Red Arrow: Rei Harper turned to the dark side after leaving Green Arrow.
Superboy: Female clone loyal to Cadmus.
Artemis: A boy named Orion who's quite obediant to his father's wishes.
Aqualad: The young Atlantean girl defected when she found out who her father was.
Seriously brain. Seriously?
You get backstories/introductions. I refuse to promise more than this. >>
---
“Well. Who’s this little cutie.” The Joker leaned down and poked the pouting girl. She was probably what, nine? She was dressed in bright colors, and her spiky black hair was pragmatically short.
She wasn’t scared.
Joker poked her in the forehead again, then gave his best grimace.
“So,” he said. “you wanna know how I got these scars?”
Her blue eyes lit up, and her grin was bright in the flickering light of the burning circus.
“Yeah. I’d like that.”
---
M’cal M’orzz smiled with pointed teeth as he relished the warm sunlight and flew through the desert. It was heat without danger, a rarity on Mars.
Below him, some human army or another saw him and started shooting. He dodged without difficulty and smiled again.
“That wasn’t really a good idea.”
Later, reports from Bialya would describe the slaughtering force as numbering in the dozens, but the Martian Manhunter would read them and know the signs. He would know it was just one.
---
Kalda’rm had known for years that she didn’t belong. She was strong, and quick, and understood concepts that took others at the Academy much longer. And she felt the rush of power, when the others stood there and struggled.
The first time she looked into someone’s eyes and saw something other than that enviable weakness, Atlantis had been attacked, and the eyes had been hidden behind thick plates of glass on a helmet. But the feeling was there, and she followed, out of curiosity as much as anything else.
And when they had reached the surface and the stranger had turned and removed his helmet, Kalda had seen her own gray eyes looking back at her.
They were smiling.
---
When Barry Allen’s eleven year-old niece vanished from her school, leaving her chemistry textbooks fallen on the sidewalk, he had panicked. For the next several weeks, Central City saw its resident speedster doing extra patrols and searching the darkest alleys with no success.
Several months later, when the Flash saw familiar green eyes looking out at him from beneath cropped red hair and a yellow mask, he had mourned. For all the warmth and joy those green eyes held, they may as well have belonged to a corpse, and it was on that day that Barry Allen stopped trying to find his niece.
Four years later, a teenage girl remembered the death of her guardian and mentor at the hands of a hero’s righteous anger, and plotted her revenge.
---
Ever since he was young, Orion had heard his father’s voice and known it would not steer him wrong.
“Envision the arrow’s path.”
“Yes, Father.”
For the first time, the six year-old’s arrow hit the target, rather than falling too short or too long.
“Hold your arm steady.”
“Yes, Father.”
The arrow split its predecessor down the middle, in a feat the nine year-old had dreamed of since he saw the elder do it.
“Do not allow the target to distract you.”
As the twelve year-old stared down the nocked arrow at his unwary target, he smiled and let loose. The arrow did not miss.
“Yes, Father.”
---
“You don’t respect me. I’ve fought by your side for years, and you don’t’ trust me with this.”
The red-haired girl stood alone facing the older heroes. They were all older than her, all oh-so sure of their own righteousness. She removed her hat and flung it at her former teacher.
She left without a word. Sometimes, she knew, silence was far stronger.
Later, Rei Harper would abandon her costume but not her mask or bow. For now, though, she lurked in the shadows as she infiltrated the burning lab.
An elevator?
Fifty-two floors down, she fought (and lost to) a tall girl with black hair and even more anger than Rei.
Rei was offered a chance to choose: The Justice League, or the shadow-group calling itself the Light?
Seeing the offered friendship in the eyes of the girl she had fought, and the promise of respect in the rest, it was an easy decision.
---