Super Beginnings [PLOTTING // OPEN]

[Pocono Pariah]

This is open to anyone ad everyone.

It's based off super heroes, even more direct from the tv show 'Young Justice' strictly, but it's not 'Canon Fanfiction' until I know the 3rd season comes back (April 11th it'll be announced).

I'll be playing a girl named Sea Feather, (Marina) who is like a young and sweet version of Hawk-girl....but isn't a super hero yet, just starting out.

No canon characters yet, just originals for now.

Plotting anyone?

[Pocono Pariah]

She stumbled across her fire escape and slid the apartment glass door open. With sore limb and a hand on her brow, she left the sliding glass door, kicked her shoes off, and staggered to the bathroom. She left the lights off and undressed. She groaned when she pulled the trench coat off, felt her shoulders and elbows crack when she lifted her shirt over her head, and sighed once the pants dropped. Turning on the water to HOT and HOT alone, she unclipped her bra and wiggled out of her panties. Last but not least, she unbuckled the belts that criss-crossed over her shoulder and between her breasts. The silver clasps clattered as they hit the floor and a sudden fluttering sound filled the room. The bathroom was smaller now that she had stretched.

She stepped into the shower, moaning as the scalding water sprayed over her bruised ivory skin. She shuttered at the pain, feeling the frostbite burn with the water. She rubbed her hands, cracked each finger, and then began to wash the gravel and dirt from her wavy mahogany hair. She watched through half-closed lids as the dirt, grime, and blood swirled down the rusty drain.

She hurt…badly. She couldn’t keep this up…couldn’t pretend to be a hero. She was alone, a bastard child, estranged from her mother, hardly any friends that she could turn to…and at the age of 23, she began to feel a tug at her heart. Loneliness….loneliness that couldn’t be healed by simply saving strangers…strangers who didn’t even stop to say thank you like they did in the comic books. Who was she kidding…she wasn’t a hero – she thought as she stood straighter and looked over her shoulder to the brown wings mounted on her back. She stretched each feather, fluffed them, and shook the gravel and muk from them.

What was she?

When she left the shower, redressed in her dirty clothes, she left the apartment quietly without the residents even knowing. As she descended the steps to the hall way, feeling sick at the sight of the yellowed walls and the constant flickering of the light above with its buzzing, she caught sight of an ad. The paper hung from a wall of requests, but this one needed a roommate…

Maybe she should stop her life on the run, trying to be a hero and saving people who didn’t car. Her mother wanted her to finish college…to come back to society and get rid of ideas of changing the world; men would ruin it anyway and laugh at her as she tried. She pulled one of the number tabs and exited the building, shaking change in her pocket and weighing her options. In the morning, she’d decide if she’d call from a telephone booth.