12-16-2009, 11:42 AM
For one brief moment, as a battered and bloodied Alexander Trafford resignedly hit the snow, the Control Room fell completely silent. Josh Drake and Audric stared fixedly at the screen, watching as the last precious few seconds of the tournament unfolded before their very eyes. The technical supervisor was faintly aware of five thick fingers digging brand new holes into his shoulder in unbridled suspense, but his focus lay elsewhere. In one instant, the Artic Sector turned from a blissful blizzard of snow to a raging inferno of bullets and energy. Alexander smiled, not even bothering to watch as the psychokinetic storm engulfed Sage.
-----
Damon Dukes stood alone in the Arctic Sector, surrounded by miles upon miles of empty, desolate snow. He looked to the gray, artificial skies, as if he were a mere mortal seeking answers from above. Tiny, soft flakes of snow fell from the heavy blanket of clouds, kissing the world below with a gentle mantle of serenity. He closed his eyes as they tenderly touched his face, feeling so real, so like the genuine article. The host did not watch, could not see, the battle that raged beyond his private winter wonderland. It didn’t matter. Even now, Damon felt one with the virtual world, as if he could see every image in perfect, crystal clear sequence flashing before his very eyes, and as a ripple of energy pulsed through the icy wasteland, Damon closed them.
-----
Sage’s eyes widened in horror as she saw the inevitability of her doom descend upon her, the very sound of it beating a rhythmic harbinger of death within her heart. She had railroaded the poor boy, the darkest part of her horrifying strength unleashed at last, in the moment where it mattered the most. In return, he retaliated with an inescapable assault, with everything…everything he had.
Alex seemed merely content with waiting. His eyes remained blissfully closed, until he heard a voice.
“Alexander.”
Trafford’s eyes snapped open, his pupils dilating and contracting with sharp awareness. Only one person called him by his full name.
“Alice?” he whispered, his tone betraying a hint of hope.
Sage didn’t pay attention to Alex, just as he paid no attention to her. Sage felt a scream rise in her throat as the psychokinetic energy ripped into her, bullets flying everywhere. She couldn’t layer herself in ice fast enough to compensate for the damage. Flurries of snow rose all around her as her cryokinetic powers sprang unbidden to her defense, neutralizing the bullets and the Desert Eagles.
“Alexander,” somebody called out again.
The street entertainer stared straight ahead, through the clouds and into the heavens above. Descending upon the world so cold and gray was a ball of golden light, so warm and beautiful. In it, he could see the image of his beloved Alice. Her image shimmered faintly before him, translucent in the world of the living.
“Alice,” he smiled knowingly.
Sage grunted through the pain, crossing her arms in front of her to ward away the malicious entity of the attack. Her vision became blanketed in a swirling torrent of golden snow, a mixture of the psychokinesis and her own elemental ki. Through the maelstrom of ice and energy, she almost thought she could see somebody.
Sol.
“Alexander, come home,” Alice smiled.
A tear fell from the corner of Alex’s eye. She wore the very same outfit that he’d so distinctly admired that day in the coffee shop: a knee-length sky blue dress with a white button-up sweater. She looked just as beautiful now to him as she had that day. Alice reached down to him with an outstretched hand.
Sage reached out as if to grab Sol, but jerked her hand with a howl of pain as an explosion rocked in front of her. Sol laughed, teasing, taunting. The girl could feel him slipping away. “Damn you, Sol!” she cursed. He simply grinned wickedly, reveling in her misfortune. The harder she tried, the more the rapist seemed to slip away. Sage screamed again, this time of her own volition.
“Alexander, come home,” Alice repeated, reaching out to him.
Alex obediently lifted a bedraggled arm, blood spilling further down the cloth and skin. It took every ounce of effort he had, but he would do it, for her.
“I want to,” Alex professed, his chest tightening with the pure sorrow and need of such a simple and profoundly consuming desire. Suddenly, her image began to pull away, farther from his reach. “No, don’t go!” he cried. “Don’t leave me again!”
“Come home,” her voice echoed as Alice disappeared back into the celestial ether from whence she came.
“Don’t leave me…” Alex whispered emptily.
Sage screamed, and screamed. She screamed for Sophia. She screamed for Ashe. She screamed for her innocence. She screamed for everything she’d lost, which was so great, it could not be encapsulated in a single instant of memory. Finally, her Arctic Wrath shattered the world around her, until something just snapped, and she felt everything go numb. The girl dropped to her knees, falling in the snow.
Sol was gone. She’d failed.
Alex’s arm fell limply back to his side. Once more, Alice slipped through his fingertips, just barely within reach, yet still too far.
They’d given everything. Everything they had. Only one was going to get up and claim what was lost.
And it was Sage.
-----
Damon Dukes stood alone in the Arctic Sector, surrounded by miles upon miles of empty, desolate snow. He looked to the gray, artificial skies, as if he were a mere mortal seeking answers from above. Tiny, soft flakes of snow fell from the heavy blanket of clouds, kissing the world below with a gentle mantle of serenity. He closed his eyes as they tenderly touched his face, feeling so real, so like the genuine article. The host did not watch, could not see, the battle that raged beyond his private winter wonderland. It didn’t matter. Even now, Damon felt one with the virtual world, as if he could see every image in perfect, crystal clear sequence flashing before his very eyes, and as a ripple of energy pulsed through the icy wasteland, Damon closed them.
-----
Quote:And so it ended...
Sage’s eyes widened in horror as she saw the inevitability of her doom descend upon her, the very sound of it beating a rhythmic harbinger of death within her heart. She had railroaded the poor boy, the darkest part of her horrifying strength unleashed at last, in the moment where it mattered the most. In return, he retaliated with an inescapable assault, with everything…everything he had.
Alex seemed merely content with waiting. His eyes remained blissfully closed, until he heard a voice.
“Alexander.”
Trafford’s eyes snapped open, his pupils dilating and contracting with sharp awareness. Only one person called him by his full name.
“Alice?” he whispered, his tone betraying a hint of hope.
Sage didn’t pay attention to Alex, just as he paid no attention to her. Sage felt a scream rise in her throat as the psychokinetic energy ripped into her, bullets flying everywhere. She couldn’t layer herself in ice fast enough to compensate for the damage. Flurries of snow rose all around her as her cryokinetic powers sprang unbidden to her defense, neutralizing the bullets and the Desert Eagles.
“Alexander,” somebody called out again.
The street entertainer stared straight ahead, through the clouds and into the heavens above. Descending upon the world so cold and gray was a ball of golden light, so warm and beautiful. In it, he could see the image of his beloved Alice. Her image shimmered faintly before him, translucent in the world of the living.
“Alice,” he smiled knowingly.
Sage grunted through the pain, crossing her arms in front of her to ward away the malicious entity of the attack. Her vision became blanketed in a swirling torrent of golden snow, a mixture of the psychokinesis and her own elemental ki. Through the maelstrom of ice and energy, she almost thought she could see somebody.
Sol.
“Alexander, come home,” Alice smiled.
A tear fell from the corner of Alex’s eye. She wore the very same outfit that he’d so distinctly admired that day in the coffee shop: a knee-length sky blue dress with a white button-up sweater. She looked just as beautiful now to him as she had that day. Alice reached down to him with an outstretched hand.
Sage reached out as if to grab Sol, but jerked her hand with a howl of pain as an explosion rocked in front of her. Sol laughed, teasing, taunting. The girl could feel him slipping away. “Damn you, Sol!” she cursed. He simply grinned wickedly, reveling in her misfortune. The harder she tried, the more the rapist seemed to slip away. Sage screamed again, this time of her own volition.
“Alexander, come home,” Alice repeated, reaching out to him.
Alex obediently lifted a bedraggled arm, blood spilling further down the cloth and skin. It took every ounce of effort he had, but he would do it, for her.
“I want to,” Alex professed, his chest tightening with the pure sorrow and need of such a simple and profoundly consuming desire. Suddenly, her image began to pull away, farther from his reach. “No, don’t go!” he cried. “Don’t leave me again!”
“Come home,” her voice echoed as Alice disappeared back into the celestial ether from whence she came.
“Don’t leave me…” Alex whispered emptily.
Sage screamed, and screamed. She screamed for Sophia. She screamed for Ashe. She screamed for her innocence. She screamed for everything she’d lost, which was so great, it could not be encapsulated in a single instant of memory. Finally, her Arctic Wrath shattered the world around her, until something just snapped, and she felt everything go numb. The girl dropped to her knees, falling in the snow.
Sol was gone. She’d failed.
Alex’s arm fell limply back to his side. Once more, Alice slipped through his fingertips, just barely within reach, yet still too far.
They’d given everything. Everything they had. Only one was going to get up and claim what was lost.
And it was Sage.
![[Image: 3nyxortbSM.jpg]](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v234/waffuru/3nyxortbSM.jpg)

