Welcome to the Top [Open]

[Tigra]

Standing still as stone, the Killer planted her feet on the edge of the roof, her mint condition Pumas gripping the concrete lip of the high rise apartment complex like they were lined in glue. The hot pink color was a brilliant contrast to the drab, dirty concrete and pebble tar work of the rooftop she stood on, looking down the thirty floors to the street below. It was a long, long fall; fatal by any standards. She knew she could never survive something so impossible, something so… absurd. But fear was not a factor. Nowhere in her mind resided a shred of doubt, an iota of fear. She was a warrior, a fighter, a champion. She’d stared death in the face, and she had laughed. She’d taken the very blood he’d come to reclaim, and she’d spit it in his face.

The feeling of immortality had really struck her, then. The way her body was broken, all but destroyed again, for what felt like more times than any one person really had any right to the experience. She hobbled back home, her leg broken and every rib in her body shattered, bullets littering every part of her that she could imagine, and still she had left on her own feet, walking out with her head held high and her gun still kicking in her hands. She’d proven that she was hell to deal with, and she was damn proud of it. What she wanted now, was to improve; to become something more, something even better.

She stood in silence, the wind whipping around her like a hurricane this high up, without any cover to break the violent gusts of the arctic air as it cut south across the continent, slicing its way right through the heart of Harper Rock. Far below, cars raced along the streets the size of threads, huge trucks passed along smaller than the specks of dirt on the underside of her shoes. Up here, she was on top of the world. There was nothing, as far as her eye could see, that could stand taller than she. This was what it meant to be on the top; to be the top of the food chain, the top dog, the alpha. She liked it. It was something she could get used to, something that she found herself craving more and more often after that night. She had taken to coming up here, dangling her legs over the edge of the impressive height of the building, and imagined throwing herself over the edge, just to see. Just to know.

What would happen to her when she hit the bottom? Would she splatter across the concrete like another worthless worm, or would she soar? Perhaps, when she threw herself from the edge, she never found the bottom, and instead, she found a greatness within her that none of them had ever known. How would she ever learn, if she never tried?

She stood on the ledge again tonight, watching idly as the small specks of the cars passed by the front of the building, tiny dots on a single line, jerking and stopping at random intervals as they hit stop lights, intersections, pedestrian crossings, and entire world of scenarios unfolded at her very feet, and to her, they all seemed like nothing. The lives of insects to the Tigress. She yawned, her head tipped back and her pale face exposed to the white light of the moon. She threw out her hands, letting the moonlight wrap itself around her, the icy blast of the night air nearly tossing her right over the edge of the ledge. Instead, she felt like her shoes gripped the rooftop, anchoring her in place like some kind of tether, refusing to let her go until she had decided that it was time. Everything that went on up here, this entire plane of existence, this whole thousand square foot world she inhabited, it was all hers. Up here, where she felt like she could reach up and touch the clouds, nothing happened without her say so. This was her haven, her safe place. This was her escape.

Her hazel eyes stared up into the moonlight, the brilliant, pale disk washing her skin in its ghostly light as she took a slow, steady breath, letting the icy air invade her sinuses, and wash through her lungs, cleansing her of weakness. Tonight, she intended to baptize herself in fire, to use adrenaline, to use the fear that would hold her back before, that would have hindered her and made her meek, and she was going to twist it into a tool, to bend it to her will, to break it. She was no longer going to be governed by fear. She was a Tigress, and it was high time she acted like one. She lifted her hands and rubbed at her face as she edged closer to the lip of the roof. It was almost time. She checked her watch, her eyes dancing between green and blue, the colors at war with one another as her excitement reached a fever pitch. She could swear she heard her heart pounding in her ears, but she would admit to it likely just being the wind buffeting against her tall, lean form as she stood like a willow in the wind.

The arms on the watch ticked by at an agonizingly slow pace, each second felt like a lifetime as she waited for that blessed zero hour, the exact moment she’d chosen for herself to take this plunge. She took a last minute to check herself, to be sure that she was prepared. She pulled tight on her zipper, the wind resistant body suit clinging to her figure like another skin, a fine, black, featureless skin of imported rubber, designed to help her maintain optimum aerodynamics. Her hair was braided in a tight, unforgiving design that fell to her shoulder in a single, thick French braid, her soft chocolate strands neatly tucked away from her face. Her gloves were tightly fitted, each fingertip tailored for precision, she wouldn’t be missing any timing on this jump. Finally, she checked her chute, her hands passing over the straps that held the pack to her back were in good condition, the ripcord primed and ready for use. All that was needed now was the launch itself. She took another slow, steadying breath and in that moment, she was thankful that her heart couldn’t beat, or it would be lodged in her throat, choking her to death. She took a final step toward the ledge as her watch made the final sweep toward the zero hour.

A soft beep, barely a sound over the roaring of the wind in her ears, signified the time. She leaned forward, the weight of her body offering momentum as she dipped forward, until she was tipping into the abyss, the only thing beneath her was the Earth, some three hundred and fifty feet below. In that moment, she felt like she was flying, a predator diving with a fury into the unsuspecting world beneath her, the Earth rising to meet her.

[Indigo]

It was getting late. The shops were closing and if there was anything left for Indigo to pick-up on her way back home it would just have to wait. Cool air found its path beneath the neck of the loose sweater knitted out of fine salmon yarn. She felt the night through the small spaces that had been created for that purpose. Comfort was key and she paid for it. She adjusted the hand creation so that it dangled off the left shoulder instead of the right. Soon it would be another garment in a collection that she bagged up and toted off to the dry cleaners then would pick-up to store away in a closet waiting in a dark corner for fall to return.

The crunch of the city beneath her feet was her signal to the world around her that she was on the move. Long caramel blonde ringlets accepted the spontaneous sweep of air that glided over her face and shoulders and tried to hold on to the invisible lift as long as possible before another gust came along. The charm bracelet on her left hand chimed with her random movements and kissed her wind cooled cheek as she gathered up a handful in an attempt to pull it back. Just as quickly as she did it was inevitably replaced by another batch of defiant hair that belonged to a cloud that could never be truly tamed.

Strange faces and piercing eyes filled the canvas around her as their moving bodies appeared then faded into the dark that lined the corners she avoided. Wild things. She was surrounded by them but she still could not put her finger on just what they were. An abyss of beauty, energy and the unbelievable was rising fast and she was caught up in the challenge of wading in it without drowning completely.The unknown could be intimidating for the average person but the self-proclaimed cat with eight lives left was still confident that she had some collateral to bank on if anything else imposed its wrath on her. Indigo Knight was nearly invincible. She thought she had seen it all. That was until she was delivered a memo in the most unlikely form.

The sound of paper and wind pulled her attention to the building across from her. As the flyer spun upward, tumbling with the route the force beneath it her indigo eyes chased it appreciating the tango of what was visible with what was not. Spider lined lids lifted as a new line of wind nudged her from behind as if she was being tapped by a force greater than that carrying the white parchment further up into the night above her. A horn echoed in the distance and a set of headlights flashed over her then shifted to fade around the corner. Her hand collected the voluminous strands tangling into her lashes and pulled them free. Upward her brilliant wild blues rolled up to continue the sight of white paper riding the wind and meeting its stop against the tall building that demanded the rest of her attention.

She tilted her head back and found the beauty of the untouchable obsidian sky above her towering over where she stood. The thorn of cement rising above the street was able to be counted in thirty levels give or take a basement beneath. Her foot took lead of her body as she eyed the stars. One click of a custom designed heel followed another. Another sweep of cool air sent her hair flying and the charm bracelet chimed with the reflex of her hand rising to clear her field of limited vision. When the last strand was cleared her eyes squinted then widened in shock at something falling at a rate of speed that was never good.

“Oh my god!” Her feet stumbled in a shift of frantic steps changing her previous route while her hand fumbles down to her hip for her pocket. She couldn’t believe what she was witnessing. Her heart was jumping instantly. “HELP!”

The cell phone was in her palm but stuck in the fabric around it designed to keep it secure where it was. She gave up. Like E.T. chasing Gertie out of the closet her arms waved in the air as she screamed running towards the building like she could stop things from becoming worse than it was surely going to be. She cried out as if her own life depended on someone, anyone hearing her. Where are the superheros in the world when you really need them?

“H-E-L-P!”