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Nottingham speed dating events usually attract 20-30 singles per event, with a roughly equal split gender split. Nottingham speed dating is usually held at the Lacehouse, Revolution or Cape bar. Nottingham singles events are also sometimes held at Pitcher & Piano Nottingham and speed dating at the Living Room Nottingham. Speed dating Nottingham, ages 22-34 (guideline only tickets. Pitcher And Piano in Nottingham. Tuesday 11th August 2020. 7:30pm til 10:00pm (last entry 8:00pm) Minimum Age: 18 Speed Dating for singles nights around the UK. Speed dating is one of the most popular forms of dating, and as the UK’s longest established speed dating company, Slow Dating help provide an opportunity for you to find a partner in a comfortable, safe environment. Having been established over 15 years, we offer a chance to meet face-to-face ... Speed Dating in Nottingham has proven to be a successful, fun and exciting way to meet new people. You will meet many single people and have four-minute dates with each of them. Our events are a great way to meet new people. Give it a go and if you don’t find someone you like we will give you the next event free of charge. MeetMe helps you find new people nearby who share your interests and want to chat now! It’s fun, friendly, and free! Join 100+ MILLION PEOPLE chatting and making new friends. It’s for all ages, all nationalities, all backgrounds — EVERYONE! So what are you waiting for? Join the best site for finding new friends to chat with! What is speed dating? Speed dating is a great opportunity for you to meet a variety of people and find the perfect person for you. MySpeedDate organises speed-dating events in and around Nottingham and across Nottinghamshire. The format of our speed dating events consists of participators having up to 20 mini dates in one evening. Speed Dating Nottingham - Original Dating. Speed dating in Nottingham is the great way to meet people while having a lot of fun. With Original Dating you'll meet up to 20 dates at the best bars in town. Experience fun speed dating events in Nottingham if you’re currently single and looking for love or just want to start dating again. Ditch or Date organise high quality speed dating events within the city of Nottingham and pride ourselves on only using the most stylish and popular city centre venues with their own VIP private spaces along with friendly hosts to really make your night one to ... The Wheel of Nottingham will be hosting a quirky romantic pop-up ensuring love is quite literally in the air this Valentine's Day. ... Love is in the Air speed dating is priced at £5 per person ... Speed dating Nottingham, ages 26-38 (guideline only. Pitcher And Piano, Nottingham. Tuesday 19th Jan 2021. 7:30pm til 10:00pm. Minimum Age: 18. For ticket prices, please click here (Additional ...
RT Rundown August 29, 2020 - September 4, 2020
2020.09.05 18:27 NotMarileeRT Rundown August 29, 2020 - September 4, 2020
Last Week This post lists everything Rooster Teeth has released from August 29, 2020 to September 4, 2020. The organization of this post follows the order of the links on the sidebar on the website. FIRST exclusive content is surrounded in asterisks ( *EXAMPLE*) while content that is currently exclusive but will be available publicly later is followed by an asterisks and the date in which it will be free (EXAMPLE*Free September 12th.) This does not include content that will lose exclusivity on the day this post is made (September 5th.) NEWS:
Long before Cissie ever crafted her slingshot, she didn’t know what she wanted to be. So, she read books. Drew pictures. Dabbled in all sorts of things. Just about to turn ten-years old, she received an early present from her father, Bernell. A knock sounded at her door, followed by her father’s voice. “Come in!” Bernell entered her room, holding something wrapped in his hands. “Hey sweetie,” he said. “Your mother and I thought we’d give you an early birthday present for doing so well on your recent report card.” Cissie’s face lit up. Her eyes couldn’t leave the beautiful wrapping. Rectangular, somewhat small. The moment she touched it she knew what it was, but not precisely. She gasped. “A book?” Bernell smiled and nodded, sitting down on her bed. “We’ve noticed how much you’ve enjoyed reading lately. So I thought I’d buy you a copy of this book… It’s about a character I grew up with myself.” Cissie unwrapped it. It was a new copy of a book called “Robin Hood and His Merry Adventures”. “Who’s this?” Bernell laughed. “It’s a retelling of a hero from a very long time ago. That’s his name on the cover: Robin Hood. He was -- well -- he was a hero.” “Like Superman?” “Kind of like Superman. Robin Hood couldn’t fly though. And he didn’t have super strength.” He thought for a moment. “Couldn’t shoot lasers out of his eyes either…” Cissie laughed. “But he was a hero?” “Sure he was! The greatest thing about Robin Hood -- he was a superhero without superpowers.” Bernell inched forward a bit on the bed. Cissie was in her computer chair but rolled it closer to him, inspecting the book. “Really?” Cissie asked. “But how could he do that?” “Well, he worked really hard. He worked hard at archery. He learned how to fight crime with the strength he had. And he had friends who helped him. And he and his Merry Men fought against those who wanted to hurt the weak.” Cissie was skeptical of this character. What was the point if you didn’t have powers? She skimmed the back of the book and furrowed her brow, looking up at her father. “But, Daddy, it says on the back that he’s an outlaw. Doesn’t that mean you’re a villain?” Bernell smiled. “To the rich noblemen of Nottingham, he was a villain. To those he fought against and stole from. But to those he saved, he was a hero. People had different perspectives on him.” “But you think he was a hero.” “I believe he was.” He rubbed Cissie on the head and stood up. “Give it a read, Cissie. Tell me what you think of him.” She smiled. “Okay,” she said. “Thank you,” she got up and hugged him. When she opened up the book she noticed the opening page had been written in. It read: “For my little Robin Hood to be. The truest act of heroism is to reach out.” She smiled and looked to the door that had been left slightly ajar. And she started reading.
Cissie was a slow reader. But she made her way through the middle grade novel and slowly became more and more enthralled by Robin Hood’s character. She bookmarked pages, underlined passages with pencil. She looked up archers on the internet and became amazed by their feats. She thought of her mother’s few stories of being an archer herself when she was younger. A championship level bow-and-arrow lady. Could people really be heroes without powers? Could anyone become a skilled archer like Robin Hood? Like her Mother? Cissie started to write her own character. She read and reread Robin Hood for inspiration. She wrote of a female archer who would fight crime with her archery skills. This girl didn’t have powers. She was just good at using a bow-and-arrow. Then, she started to draw what she’d look like, taking inspiration from how she herself looked, how Robin Hood looked, how Mommy looked. Cissie had asked about her Mother’s days of archery but she was often silent about it. “Oh, that’s in the past, Suzanne,” she’d say. “You don’t want to know about that stuff.”
One day, Cissie was drawing in the yard, the best depiction yet. She was going to write a story of her character fighting Superman and winning to go along with it, but the two heroes would become friends afterward. Her father caught her drawing and inched closer to take a look. “What are you working on now, Cissie?” “I’m drawing my superhero! I haven’t shown you yet, but… you can see now. Because I really like this one. She’s just like Robin Hood. And Mommy too when she was an archer!” Bonnie, who was helping Bernell do some yard work wiped her brow and came over to look too. “Oh yeah?” Bernell crouched down to look. “She looks just like you,” he teased, nudging her. “What’s her hero name?” “She’s Arrowette! And she fights for truth, justice, and she does it all without any powers! See Mommy?” Cissie handed her the picture and laughed. “She’s inspired by you too.” Bonnie took the photo. Cissie got nervous for a moment from her mother’s expression. One seemingly of pain. “Mommy?” Bonnie flinched and looked at Cissie. Then, as if coming back to reality, smiled and patted Cissie on the shoulder handing the drawing back. “It looks wonderful, Suzanne.” She kissed Cissie on the head. “You’re such a talented girl.”
Marcy sat across from Bonnie King, who sat in her chair in the white interrogation room. The woman was a mess, both visually and mentally. For a moment, Marcy felt bad for her. Nobody deserved to live a life so messed up like this… but in the next moment Marcy remembered the abuser who was across from her. “So,” Marcy settled in with her coffee. “Want to tell us how you escaped from your confinement?” Bonnie giggled. “I’m a metahuman.” She grinned at Marcy. “I’m really, really strong. SSSH!” She whipped her head to the side. It was only the two of them in that room. “Sorry… I broke out because I had to save… someone… who, again…?” “You didn’t have to save anyo--” “My daughter! Yeah. She’s in danger…” Marcy tightened her fists beneath the table. God, she wanted to punch her. “Cissie isn’t in any danger. She’s perfectly safe. Living a normal teenage girl’s life.” “But…” Bonnie’s bottom lip shook and she clenched her eyes shut. “She doesn’t have her Mommy… Oh, she doesn’t have her Mother to protect her anymore…” Bonnie wobbled and started to cry. Only for a moment. Until she got angry and twisted around so hard the handcuffs tugged and pulled the table toward her just a bit. “Shut your mouth!!” Marcy closed her eyes and tried to breathe. This behavior was frightening. Something she wasn’t used to seeing. “We aren’t here to talk about Cissie.” She refused to call her Bonnie’s daughter. “Could we please?” Bonnie breathed. She looked up. A desperate smile and wide eyes painting her face. “Could you please… at least tell me how she’s doing?” Marcy stared at her. “We. Aren’t here. To talk about Cissie.” “I know. But. But.” Bonnie sniffed. Lowered her head. Seemingly in defeat. “I don’t want to feel like this anymore. It hurts.” Marcy raised her eyebrows at Bonnie’s sudden clarity. Her sudden melancholic voice. “It hurts… the voices. Reminding me. Always reminding me of how awful I was. Still am.” She shook her head wildly and whispered shutupshutuppleaseshutup. She looked back up at Marcy, tears flowing down her face. “I only did what they told me to. They were all trying to hurt her. I had to… make… amends… Go to… the warehouse in Wallingford. The warehouse in Wallingford.” Marcy raised an eyebrow. Then, Bonnie’s coherence quickly faded. Her face was strained, as if trying desperately hard to retain a clear head. But then she fell into a laughing fit, cackling, crying, throwing herself to and fro in her chair. “They keep SPEAKING and SHOUTING,” she said, “FUCK -- I -- ahAHAHAHA… haaa….. more whispers building, building, building, building, buildingbuildingbuildingbuilding…….” Marcy loosened her hands. Bonnie was completely gone. This woman was broken. And for the first time she felt sorry for her. She was already headed for this headspace someday maybe, but her head injury only quickened the process. Who knows? But she was suffering. A murderer, but still a victim of a psychosis she couldn’t even begin to understand. Marcy stood up, paused before the door and looked back at Bonnie’s wild movements, listened to her nonsense talk, watched her cry and smile wild, a cursed mix of deep pain and high joy. “I’m sorry, Bonnie. Truly.” She knocked on the door and it unlocked for her.
Bonnie writhed. Alone. So alone. The deaths of everyone haunted her. Innocent people. Blood everywhere. She could taste it. Couldn’t stop tasting it. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “Please make it stop.” She could make them go away for a bit with enough focus. But not forever. And when they returned it was all so loud. Screams. She thought the voices were right. She thought they were guiding her, helping her to protect someone precious to her. She thought what she did to Cissie was only making her stronger. But now she knew it was all wrong. Now she knew. That she was awful. Awful. Screams. So many screams. “Forgive me,” she cried out to no one. Only the voices of the walls, the table, her skin. “Forgive me.” And all of the voices said “No.” A week had passed since Cissie learned of Bonnie’s arrest. Given her intense focus on her studies and good behavior, she was permitted to continue practice alone in the archery field, but only when the team wasn’t using it. Cissie had slept in. The room lights were on. Traya had already tried getting her up a couple hours earlier. Poking her. Tossing pillows at her (Cissie only used them to bury herself further into sleep.) Traya then resorted to throwing her body onto her. “Don’t make me put you in a sleeper hold,” Cissie groaned. Traya quickly got off her. “Well if you put it that way,” she said. “Sleep tight, my young princess.” Cissie groaned louder. Traya was a confusing mix of early bird and night owl. When she was ready to get up early and tackle the day she was ready. When she wanted to pull an all-nighter she was so determined and packed full of sugar in preparation. But Cissie was in a state of simple restfulness. Not sleeping, simply drifting in and out, letting her mind wander. Winding down after so much stress plaguing her Sophomore year felt wonderful. She felt lighter. Clearer. Like she had found herself again. Cissie tossed over and slightly opened her eyes. Someone was looking at her. She opened her eyes just a bit more and saw Annie flinch and hurriedly try to make it look like she was doing anything but staring at her. “Hello, Annie,” Cissie said. Sleeping-in-time was over. Time to get up. She slowly sat up and moved the covers away. She was only in her underwear, as she usually slept. “Ah, sorry!” Annie cried, practically leaping up to her bed above, making the bunk rock. Cissie laughed. “Annie, I’m not naked or anything. What’s up?” “Sorry… I wasn’t staring or anything,” she sounded like she was burying her face in her hands. “I just was checking to see if you were sleeping.” Cissie moved out of bed and threw on some clothes from the closet, just a button up flannel and some large pajama pants. The flannel was much too large and the pajama pants were soft and just as baggy, though secure around her waist. She looked at herself in the mirror and grinned at her bedhead. A mess of blonde hair poofing out in multiple directions. “I’m up,” Cissie said. “Could use some breakfast and a shower. But I’m up.” She turned and looked up at Annie who sat cross-legged on her top bunk. The girl adjusted her glasses and pushed some short black hair behind an ear. “Want to -- uh,” Annie cleared her throat. “Let’s go get breakfast? And s-study?” Cissie smiled. She did not want to study. God, it was the last thing she wanted to do on a Saturday. But Annie had finally wanted to spend some time together. So, Cissie made the sacrifice. “That sounds good,” she said.
Cissie and Annie got what was left of the cafeteria’s breakfast. Some cereal and fruit, but it was good enough. Cissie was content, munching away, pretending to study her biology textbook, instead writing down some thoughts in a notebook. Archery practice plans. What to study in what order when she did feel like studying. They didn’t share any classes so she could get away with it. Annie, on the other hand, was a bundle of breaths, small, quiet noises and glances that Cissie caught from the corner of her eye. As if she wanted to say something. Cissie continued on. Until it became too much. Besides Annie’s little sounds, the cafeteria was very quiet. Cavernous with large windows pouring in the midday sunlight. The only other sounds were the clangs and bangs of muffled kitchen sounds from behind the now-closed cafeteria-line doors. She slowly closed her notebook and textbook. Then, reached over to close Annie’s books as well. “Oh,” Annie laughed nervously. “Do you want to just chat and hang out instead?” Cissie asked. “Yes,” Annie replied, breathy and laughing as if it was a huge relief off her shoulders. But she blushed and brought her hands to her mouth. “I’m so… awkward. I’m sorry.” Cissie shook her head. “Are you kidding me? Have you not heard Traya sometimes in our room?” Annie laughed. “Have you started the book I lent you?” Annie nodded. “I’m about halfway through,” she smiled. The girl spoke quietly so Cissie had to lean in a lot to hear her. “I, uh, read the inscription at the beginning. Who wrote that? Was it you?” Cissie shook her head and smiled, placing her chin on her hand. “It was my father. He gave me that book when I was really young. With everything that’s been happening in my life I sort of forgot all about his gift and that message he left me.” “What happened to him?” “He died. Was just… an accident. He got really bad food poisoning. Rushed to the hospital. Ended up having an allergic reaction to their medicine. His body just couldn’t handle both at once.” Annie was silent. “And… your mom… I saw on the news…” Cissie sighed. She really didn’t feel like talking about her mother today, but Annie didn’t know the story. No one did, really, besides Traya. So she didn’t blame her for being curious. “You know the worst part about that? When I was a kid… I came up with that name she used to muder people. Arrowette. This character I created after I read that book.” Cissie laughed and played with the corners of her textbook. “I had so much fun creating stories with that character. Really made me want to become a hero. Just like her. And Arrowette was inspired by, not only Robin Hood… but my mother --” Cissie snorted. Shook her head. “Can you believe it? And then she went and used that name of all things… she’s awful. Insane.” She sighed. Then looked up to see Annie was wiping her eyes, lifting her glasses. She was tearing up. “That’s so… s-sad… I’m so sorry…” Annie sniffed. “Woah, hey --” Cissie smiled and grabbed Annie’s hand. “It’s fine. Really. Really, don’t worry about it.” “I just couldn’t imagine… going through any of that. How do you --” Annie stopped herself. “Oh my gosh. I’m sorry, I’m asking you too many questions, aren’t I? I’m so--” “Stop apologizing,” Cissie said firmly, but with a kind face. “It feels good to talk about it. Really. But if you were going to ask me how I deal with it… the answer’s much more uplifting.” She closed her eyes and pictured seeing Marcy for the first time. She remembered the first time she held her. “I found someone who went out of their way to care for me. Like the mother I never had.” Cissie opened her eyes. “My real mother was distant, even while being supportive. But Marcy talked to me about boys. About dealing with problems girls would face that I knew little to nothing about. She was there for me when I needed someone.” Cissie opened her eyes. “We go on coffee dates as often as we can. Haven’t been able to as much lately. She’s been busy being a cop. And me with school… But I text her almost every day. To let her know I’m doing okay. “And then I met Traya. Our mutual goofball. She tried to get me to hang out with her so many times and I refused. Because I was insecure I suppose,” Cissie rolled her eyes. “And now I couldn’t imagine life without her. And before all of that… I had my father. Who planted a seed of kindness and responsibility within me.” Cissie breathed deeply. “And I’m happy I’ve now met you. And I could bring you to tears with my oh-so-moving story.” The two of them laughed. “But that’s enough about me I think. What’s your story, Annie?” “Oh,” she blushed, “There isn’t much to tell about me. I’ve lived in Washington my whole life. I want to study plants. Um… I like reading. A lot.” She played with her fingers. “I, uh, relate a lot to your story. A bit anyway. I never knew my parents. Grew up in an orphanage. Got adopted…” Annie was clearly not too comfortable spilling about her own life. Cissie nodded. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me everything,” she smiled. “I’m just feeling like an open book lately.” “Maybe someday,” Annie said. Cissie liked the way Annie’s eyes squinted and her head tilted just a bit when she gave a genuine smile. “Well, let me know when you finish the book. I’m going to get some archery practice before lunchtime.” She gathered her things. “And I’m in desperate need of a shower. Maybe we can all study later tonight?” “Sounds great!” Annie said. Later that night, outside of the police department where Bonnie was being held in the Central District area of Star City, shadows moved unseen. Figures cloaked in black readied their weapons. Pistols at the ready. Three of them among four assassins. The weapons of the fourth stealthy agent were simple projectiles that were carried between her fingers. She did not wear black but a deep red. Her hair was long on one side and shaved on the other, just as red as her clothing. A mask of similar color to hide her identity. Armored and at the ready. From a distance, she breathed. Felt the weight of her darts. She tumbled out of the brush and with two flicks of her wrist, the police officers entering the station for their night shift were killed, the darts whistling through the air and ripping through their skulls. She didn’t have to worry about retrieving them, as they had dissolved into dust by now, leaving no trace of the weapon behind. She and her lackeys moved in. This bizarre ‘Arrowette’ was being held in here. And they couldn’t let anyone inside let her say a thing about what she’d seen during her vigilante days. The three masked men tumbled forward and positioned themselves by the door. The woman who went by the codename ‘Red Dart’ ordered them to hold. She inched close, tapped on the glass, luring the officer inside to come out. The man stood no chance, not seeing her teammates hidden in darkness. And the moment he stepped out, her dart soared through his head. One by one, the police officers inside were taken out. So far, no need to waste bullets. There were only three more inside. As they killed them, some gunfire ensued on the part of their enemies. And one had started to shout something into a radio before Red Dart took him out. Damn it. This would have to be quick. Red Dart was now face to face with Arrowette in her cage. The woman’s eyes bounced about like nothing she’d ever seen before. “You poor little woman,” Red Dart sneered. “Lucky for you, you get to live in your deranged state a little bit longer. Someone else wants to be the one to kill you.” She nodded to her henchmen who searched the cops for the cell keys. Eventually, they were found and they all rushed in to grab hold of her. To take her back. For Onomatopoeia to take care of. The weirdo just had to finish what he started. Of course, Arrowette did not go down without a fight. The woman was good for seeming so reckless. Not being able to kill her made it so much more difficult. Red Dart gritted her teeth. Arrowette took one of the heads of Red Dart’s men and smashed it against the cell’s bars, his body dropping instantly. The other two tried to use the butts of their guns but Arrowette ducked and flipped away, punching, sticking her fingers into their eyes until they were writhing, screaming. “Useless,” Red Dart grunted, sending two of her darts through the disabled men’s brains. She charged forth, tackling Arrowette -- or would have if the woman wasn’t so quick. Arrowette backed away and held up her fists. Cracking her neck side to side. Red Dart threw up an eyebrow as the woman laughed and mumbled to herself. Then said, “Destiny. This is destiny.” “Right,” Red Dart replied. She removed more darts from her utility belt and her gloves activated, emanating a bright red color contrasting with the rest of her suit’s darkness. She tossed up dart after dart and they floated around her, the metal around them glowing a similar bright red color. Arrowette grinned and charged. Red Dart spun about thrusting out her arms. The darts whistled past Arrowette, grazing her flesh but not piercing her. The woman twisted and spun delivering a solid punch right to Red Dart’s face. It dazed her. Through her blurry vision, she saw Arrowette’s body rush away. “NO!” Red Dart moved out of the cell and pushed her hands forward, sending the darts towards her opponent. Two of them ripped through one of Arrowette’s arms but the others drove themselves into the floor and wall as her target slipped out of the police station. Red Dart paused, reeling from the worst punch she had ever taken in her entire life. “Son of a BITCH!” she cried. The darts she controlled with her gloves went dark and crumbled away into dust. Her gloves stopped glowing at the same time. She removed a dart for each fallen lackey, the last of her arsenal, and threw them into their bodies, and they all burned away into nothing but bone.
Bonnie ran. Bled profusely from her arm. But ran as fast and as hard as she could. She never forgot what Mister Gadget told her, even through all the other voices of the world. She never forgot “The abandoned warehouse in Wallingford”. She would go there. Because as long as these mysterious enemies existed they would be a threat to this city… and therefore her daughter. But first… she would need to heal. Gather supplies. “Make amends,” she said to herself beneath her frantic breaths. “Make amends.” She would kill them all. For the first time in a while everything was clear. Her and the voices were on the same page for the first time. Marcy had received a radio call from Ted Reynolds right before she heard him make a frightening sound of desperation. She raced to the station, her sirens blaring. As she skidded to a halt she saw a masked, red suited figure emerging. Corpses on the ground in her headlights. Quickly, Marcy emerged from the car and aimed her pistol. “FREEZE!” The culprit rushed away. Marcy gave chase. “All units, all units, East Precinct has been hit by unknown attackers. Giving chase to the culprit on foot! In need of an ambulance at the station. Any units available to give chase, lock onto my coordinates.” She read off her GPS device code for anyone available to follow. She didn’t have time to check on anyone inside. She didn’t have time to see if Bonnie was still in there. Whoever this was needed to be apprehended. She drew her pistol and again demanded that the figure freeze. And they did, much to her surprise. But backpedaled with such speed she had never seen before. Marcy’s weapon fired, missed and the red suited criminal disarmed her and brought her to the ground in a single move. Marcy gritted her teeth and swept her leg, no stranger to hand to hand combat and got the culprit off her. The masked figure grunted, sounded like a woman. The woman’s gloves lit up a bright red and the pistol whipped over into her grasp in the blink of an eye. Marcy lunged. The pistol fired. She had shoved the woman’s hand away just in time and was struggling to rip it out of her hand but it was glued there. Immovable. Much to Marcy’s delight, she heard sirens approaching in the distance. “Get. Off.” The masked woman kicked her away. Marcy did not stop moving. The gun fired at her again and again but Marcy bolted, zig zagging, off into the trees. The woman continued running up the dirt road behind the police station. Police cars were approaching fast, as were ambulances. Three cop cars ripped their way up the dirt road. One sped past in a blur, as did the second. The third slowed and Marcy ran around to the passenger seat. “You okay?” A man she knew as Officer Cole. “Fine,” she breathed. “We’re going to catch this prick.” She was only in the vehicle for a moment or two until the two vehicles in front halted and all inside got out and gave chase on foot, the woman running through the trees, probably looking for backroads to travel on. It was Marcy and five other cops against one woman. She was in their sights. “Open fire, open fire!” screamed an officer. And before Marcy could stop them from massacring this criminal, all pistols unloaded. Marcy’s mouth dropped as the bullets ricocheted off the woman’s body -- her entire body glowing a slightly brighter red. One bullet hit a cop who fell to his knees. “Stop firing!!” Marcy screamed. She heard the culprit laughing as she ran. Now, it was only her, Cole and two other officers giving chase as one stayed behind to care for the fallen cop. Marcy shouted into her radio for more backup. They chased this woman who seemingly had unceasing stamina into the ghettos of Wallingford. Another police car joined the fray, charging past Marcy and her little team when they reached a street. Marcy heard the command over the comms, “Unload. Whoever this was killed our boys. Give em hell.” Marcy shuddered. “Stop!” Marcy shouted into her radio. “This woman’s body -- she can make it impenetrable. Don’t do anything stupid!” Couldn’t stop this car even if she wanted to. The police car was loud, speeding forward, intent on ramming their target. The woman stopped. Turned. Her body shimmered a brighter red, just like before. And the car smashed into her body as if she were a guard rail. The entire front was smashed. The driver crashed through the windshield. The woman grabbed the man behind the head and thrusted her arm forward, letting the body tumble forward and the head was ripped clean off it from the momentum. She threw the head at the police. Marcy’s knees shook. What on Earth were they dealing with? “F-fall back!! Fall ba--” Her fellow officers opened fire again which continued to do nothing as her body went bright, like flames. Her gloves lit up and ripped two pistols out of her enemies’ hands and opened fire. The bullets hit her comrades until the woman flinched and her body went bright, but this time with intense, red static. She dropped to her knees and cried out in pain. “Damn it!” she grunted. Marcy saw her chance. Couldn’t hesitate. Hated herself for what she was about to do. But she thought of Cissie. She didn’t deserve to live in a city where criminals like this existed. She raised her pistol. I’m sorry, Cissie. Don’t be like me. Don’t be like your mother. Be better than this... But someone has to do it. They both fired on each other. Marcy shot twice until the woman’s bullets went through her torso. They both screamed in pain. Marcy collapsed onto the ground, feeling her body burn. She could barely breathe. The woman stumbled back and wheezed. Marcy’s bullets had hit her pretty much around the same marks. “Damn you… Damn y--” More sirens. Coming fast. The woman instantly turned and ran, firing her pistols at the coming cop cars instead of her, stopping many of them in their tracks as Marcy could tell by the skidding wheels.
Many hands came down around her. Many concerned faces. “Don’t…” Marcy tried to speak. But it was hard to breathe. “Don’t…” “It’s okay,” someone said. “Put pressure on those wounds! Don’t worry there’s an ambulance on the way. We won’t let anyone else in blue die today.” Marcy grabbed the man’s arm. “Don’t let me die… without saying goodbye to my daughter…” That was the last of her strength. Marcy fell into darkness. Cissie awoke suddenly in the night. Feeling uneasy. It felt the same as the night her father died. A pain in her stomach. She sat there for a while. Trying to ignore it. She tried to ignore it until the morning. When the sun was out she moved up to the archery field to take her mind off things. But before she could even begin, Traya was running up to her. Traya never comes up here. Even though they’re so close, Traya never comes up here. But she always knows where to find her. If it’s an emergency. It could only be an emergency. Cissie dropped her bow. “No.” She held out her hand. “Traya don’t you dare. Don’t you dare give me bad news. I know something’s wrong. I feel it.” Traya tightened her lips and wiped away tears. “Cissie, I…” Cissie looked past her and saw the school headmistress was approaching. Cissie shook her head wildly as Traya slowly took hold of her arms. “No, Traya.” Cissie backed away. “No. I can’t keep going through this.” Cissie felt her breathing pick up. Becoming way too fast. “Traya. Traya!” “Cissie,” Traya said. “It’s Mar--” Cissie dropped to her knees and squeezed Traya so tight as she fell with her. “Noooooo!” Cissie wailed. “Why does this keep happening?! WHY?! WHY?!” “Cissie,” Traya held her face and looked at her intently. “Cissie, Marcy is in the hospital. She’s alive. But --” Cissie gasped and looked at her. “A-alive?” “But... she’s in critical condition. The headmistress came by our room with the news. Cissie, we need to take you there.” “Traya…” Cissie hugged her and sobbed into her shoulder. “Am I cursed or something… Am I…?” Traya hugged her back, tightly. “No,” she said. “No, you’re not. It’ll be okay. She’s alive. There’s a chance. But you should go see her. Come on.” Traya slowly guided her up. “Come on.” Cissie never let go of Traya’s hand the entire way. Traya never left her side the entire time, until Cissie entered the hospital room.
Cissie stared down at Marcy in her hospital bed. Tubes. Wires. Bandages and bruises. Bullets had ripped apart her lungs. Machines were keeping her alive. But barely, it seemed. So Cissie was allowed to be there. In case it was the end. And Marcy was awake. Just barely. But still awake. “Marcy…” Cissie whispered. She stayed strong. Marcy once told her that it was strong to cry. But not this time. Not here. She had to be strong in another way. If this was the end… Marcy deserved to see her smiling face. So Cissie stayed strong for her. Marcy couldn’t respond. Only her eyes moved to her face. Cissie reached out and held Marcy’s hand. Marcy squeezed just a bit. But there wasn’t a lot of strength there. Cissie found her voice. Found her ability to move beyond the tears. As much as she could. “Marcy, I love you.” She leaned forward and smiled. “If it wasn’t for you… I -- I wouldn’t have found any happiness. I’m sorry -- sorry that I’ve been so busy with school. We’ll go on plenty more coffee dates when you get better, okay?” She paused. Took in Marcy’s eyes. “I want to talk more about boys with you. And school. And life. And my future.” Cissie sniffed. “Marcy…” Marcy made a sound. “Sssh… It’s okay, Marcy.” Cissie caressed her arm. “You’ve been my best friend. Through everything. Growing up with you has been wonderful. And whatever happened to bring you here… I know it was whatever you thought was best. I know it was to protect this city.” She smiled. “Thank you.” Marcy watched her. “We’ll make it through this, Mom.” Cissie smiled. “We’ll make it through this. Because we’re a team.” Marcy held her hand a little tighter. Moved her body just a bit. A raspy voice emerged from her. “Y……” Cissie listened. Held on tight. “I…….” “It’s okay, Marcy…” holding on became more difficult. Tears filled her eyes but she still smiled. “It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything. I’m right here… It’s all okay… I’m going to be okay.” Cissie nodded. “I have Traya. And I made a new friend named Annie. And, you know, Heather and I are getting along now! So -- you know -- you don’t have to worry about a thing!” Marcy was smiling. Then, her eyes slowly closed. Cissie squeezed. “I love you, mom,” Cissie said. “I love you.” The machines flatlined. Cissie stared down at her. A rush of doctors and nurses filled the room. She was pulled away. They all worked hard to resuscitate her. But Cissie knew… Cissie knew… and she let go of being strong for Marcy and was strong for herself, tripping out of the door and was caught by Traya who held her as Cissie screamed… cried… until everything was burning… until Traya’s shirt was soaked. Until she passed out in her arms.
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