COV fic: In the Shadows - Chapter One
So, for awhile I've been working on Tainted Shade's origin story, and even though I haven't posted any of it, I've actually written quite abit. With things like this, I like to have a good sized buffer between what's been posted and what I'm currently writing, simply because I have a tendency to over-edit to the extreme, and I don't want to post something only to discover that I need to change it later. But in looking through it again for the umpteenth time, I figure the first chapter isn't getting any doner, so I might as well post the dang thing.
Shade's story is more mundane than Nepenthe Moon's - there's no alien world being destroyed and no time travel and such. But I'm going into far more detail with Shade's story. Moon's was more a case of getting it down when it came to me before I forgot it, so it was quick and to the point. But Shade is my CoX baby, so I'm taking extra care with his story, which is why it's divided into chapters and why it might be slow going to start with, since I'm doing all that pesky character development and junk. Anyway, blah blah blah, yeah right Jenn, just post the dang thing already, willya?
Title: In the Shadows
Chapter: One
Fandom: City of Villains
Character: Tainted Shade aka Tag Van Keuren
Genre: character origin
Word count: 1,908
Warnings: none beyond some impolite langauge
“Geeze Tag, what the hell is with you?” Jason eyed his best friend as the pair of them stood on the sidelines of the soccer field. “You sick or something?”
Thirteen-year old Tag Van Keuren felt hot and uncomfortable, despite the cooling early afternoon breeze and the fact that he was wearing soccer shorts and a light jersey. It was a discomfort that had been occurring on and off for awhile now, but had been especially irritating over the course of the last week or so. It almost felt like he had a fever, and there was a maddening itching throughout his body, but centralized on his shoulders and his forehead. It kept him squirming almost constantly, and several of his teachers had already warned him to stop the disruptive fidgeting in class.
But he couldn’t help it. The sensation was annoying, like there was something crawling under his skin. He couldn’t concentrate on his school work and, although he normally loved soccer, today he had no desire to run after a dumb black and white ball. He wanted to find someplace secluded and just scratch at his itchiest spots.
“I dunno,” he replied irritably, stormy blue eyes narrowing as he distractedly watched some of his fellow teammates running drills up and down the length of the field. He shrugged his shoulders in a vain attempt to dislodge the feeling and groaned moodily. “Shit, I don’t wanna be here today.”
“Let’s ditch then,” Jason suggested, not at all adverse to the idea. He was only on the school soccer team because Tag was, he didn’t actually have much interest in the game himself. But ever since they were little, Jason had always followed Tag’s lead and did what he did. He never questioned it, even if he didn’t care for whatever activity Tag wanted to pursue. They were best friends. That’s just the way it was.
Jason watched with some worry as his companion squirmed. The breeze tousled Tag’s mop of unruly blonde hair, adding to the impression of angry irritation on his rounded face. He seemed about to fly off in a fury, and that was unusual. Normally Tag was a very easy-going person. He was playful and quick to smile, and most everyone liked him from their teachers to other kids their age. Seeing Tag look so annoyed was a little unsettling.
“Yeah okay,” Tag agreed, glancing in the direction of their coach as the man blew a whistle and yelled at some of the lagging runners on the field. “Coach Madison hasn’t noticed us yet, so we should be able to cut out behind the bleachers without him ever knowing we were here.”
“Sounds like a plan. Lead the way,” Jason flashed his friend a smile that, unfortunately, wasn’t returned. Normally Tag would have been grinning like mad over the prospect of mildly breaking a rule or causing some mischief. Like the time they had filled the history teacher’s office with inflated balloons. It had been Tag’s idea, and he’d infected all of the other kids in on the prank with his fun-loving attitude and broad sunny smile. Even the teacher had decided it was pretty funny when Tag flashed him that grin. It just wasn’t like him to be moody.
The two boys carefully backed up, keeping an eye on their coach and putting the other teenagers on the sidelines between him and them, to block the view of their escape. As soon as the man was thoroughly distracted by a collision on the field, the pair made a break for it, darting for the bleachers and the space under them, where they would be shielded by concrete supports that were almost bunker-like in form. Tag and Jason were both fast runners, thanks to having played soccer since they were in elementary school, and so the getaway was pulled off with ease.
Once under the protective shelter of the concrete, they followed the bleachers down to the far end of the field away from most of the activity. From there they would be able to easily slip out into the parking lot where their bikes were waiting, but for the moment the pair paused. Or rather, Tag came to an abrupt stop and with a short cry of frustration, he began to scratch furiously at his right shoulder.
Jason also stopped and looked curiously at the other teen. “What the hell is wrong?” he repeated his earlier question, disturbed by how hard Tag was scratching.
“I don’t know!” Tag snapped. The itching sensation was so powerful that it was actually pain and he felt like he was going crazy from not being able to get any relief. Heat was flaring through him, as if he were in an oven and not in the cool shade under the bleachers on a crisp early autumn afternoon. “I’ve been itching, Jase. It’s driving me nuts! It won’t go away, and it hurts!”
“Itching?” Jason frowned, stepping closer. He was a little disconcerted when Tag backed up, like he didn’t want the other thirteen-year old boy close to him, but Jason figured that was because he was irritated by whatever was bothering him. “Itching like how? Think maybe you got chicken pox or something?”
“No dumbass, I had that when I was five!” Tag gave him a quick glare.
“Well, is it a rash or something?” Jason stepped close again and grasped the sleeve of Tag’s jersey. He batted the blonde boy’s hand away. “Stop that, it probably ain’t good for you to be scratching like that if it’s a rash or an infection or something. Lemme take a look.”
Under normal circumstances, Tag didn’t mind Jason being close to him. They were best friends, after all, and had been since Jason had moved into Tag’s small middle-class western Michigan town - Twin Lake - when the pair were in kindergarten. They trusted each other completely, and mildly nerdy Jason was always the more popular Tag’s willing accomplice in whatever activity or mischief they could think of to get into. But today, Tag was so bothered by the sensations crawling under his skin that he felt stifled and irritated by Jason’s proximity. It took all of his will power to stand still and not bolt when Jason pushed back his jersey sleeve to examine his shoulder. It was a bizarre reaction, Tag knew it was, but he couldn’t help himself.
“Shit, Tag…” Jason breathed, his pale grey eyes glinting with worry. Tag’s shoulder was reddened from his scratching, but that was to be expected. What wasn’t were the three dark bruises in a line along the blonde’s shoulder. Not just normal black and blue, they were an angry rotting red color as well, as if there were blood pooling there in each spot. “What the hell?”
Tag tipped his head to see what Jason was looking at, and his eyes widened in surprise and not just a small amount of fear. “Holy shit, those weren’t there when I changed for practice!” he exclaimed, a touch of panic in his voice.
“What are they?” Jason was completely bewildered, as he’d never seen anything like those hideous-looking bruises. He gingerly touched a finger to the one nearest him, being careful and light with his pressure, since he knew that bruises hurt. Even still, Tag hissed in pain and sharply jerked his shoulder away, but just in that brief moment of contact, Jason had felt something weird. The heat in Tag’s skin would have been odd enough, but it had almost felt like there was something hard under the blonde teen’s skin…
“You got them on the other side too?” Jason asked, crossing around to Tag’s left and quickly pushing his sleeve up there as well, before Tag could flinch away from him. Sure enough, the disturbing bruising was there too, in exactly the same bizarre configuration.
He looked up and met Tag’s eyes. Fear and disbelief was mirrored between them. “Tag, how long has this been going on?”
“Bout a week now, but it’s been especially bad today and those bruises… they weren’t there before practice…” Tag pressed his back against the concrete wall and slid down until he was sitting on the ground with his knees up. He wrapped his arms around his legs and looked more frightened than Jason could ever remember seeing him look before. Not even when Jason had fallen out of a tree in the fourth grade and broke his arm had Tag looked like this, and that had been a pretty scary day. Jason had a feeling that if he could see his own face in a mirror he’d be looking the same. Breaking an arm was one thing; these strange painful bruises were something completely beyond their experience.
He knelt down close to Tag’s side. “You gotta tell someone about it,” he said quietly and seriously.
Tag looked at his friend; saw the worry in Jason’s eyes shadowed by the fall of his raven bangs. Yeah, this was serious. The pain in his shoulders, which was only growing worse with each passing minute, told him that. And Jason’s concern confirmed it. It was simply frightening to think that something might be wrong with him. Tag didn’t get sick very often, and the worst pain he’d ever experienced had been getting a stubborn baby tooth pulled. This was so far beyond that it was hard to comprehend. He could feel heat in his skin, flaring especially where the strange bruises were, but also between and behind his eyes. When Jason laid an imploring hand on his arm, it felt like ice.
“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Tag agreed, drawing in a breath that was sheared by his lungs and painful in his chest. “Think the school nurse is still here?”
By the time they made it across the school parking lot and into the building, Tag was pale and shaking, and Jason had to support him as they entered the lobby. The pallor that his skin was taking on was not just a lack of color, it almost looked like a lack of life, and Tag’s blue eyes stood out brightly as they burned with fever. Upon reaching her office, the school nurse took one look at the boy and immediately called 911.
As they waited for an ambulance to arrive, Tag laid out on a bench in the main lobby, shivering and feeling like he would go insane from the overwhelming desire to scratch all over as that bizarre sensation moved throughout his body, prickling here and there. His shoulders were now too painful to even touch. Jason sat beside him like a faithful sentinel, and occasionally held his hands to keep him from clawing at himself. He watched in panic as three small bruises began to appear on Tag’s forehead in a neat vertical row.
He wasn’t allowed to go in the ambulance with Tag when it arrived. The nurse drove him home instead. As usual, there was no one there yet, Jason’s parents both worked long hours in nearby Muskegon, so he simply sat alone in the darkened kitchen, waiting for the phone to ring. He hoped it would be Tag calling, telling him that it had all been nothing and that he was going to be fine. When Jason’s mother finally came home two hours later, she found her son still sitting there, quiet tears on his cheeks and trembling with anxiety.
Shade's story is more mundane than Nepenthe Moon's - there's no alien world being destroyed and no time travel and such. But I'm going into far more detail with Shade's story. Moon's was more a case of getting it down when it came to me before I forgot it, so it was quick and to the point. But Shade is my CoX baby, so I'm taking extra care with his story, which is why it's divided into chapters and why it might be slow going to start with, since I'm doing all that pesky character development and junk. Anyway, blah blah blah, yeah right Jenn, just post the dang thing already, willya?
Title: In the Shadows
Chapter: One
Fandom: City of Villains
Character: Tainted Shade aka Tag Van Keuren
Genre: character origin
Word count: 1,908
Warnings: none beyond some impolite langauge
“Geeze Tag, what the hell is with you?” Jason eyed his best friend as the pair of them stood on the sidelines of the soccer field. “You sick or something?”
Thirteen-year old Tag Van Keuren felt hot and uncomfortable, despite the cooling early afternoon breeze and the fact that he was wearing soccer shorts and a light jersey. It was a discomfort that had been occurring on and off for awhile now, but had been especially irritating over the course of the last week or so. It almost felt like he had a fever, and there was a maddening itching throughout his body, but centralized on his shoulders and his forehead. It kept him squirming almost constantly, and several of his teachers had already warned him to stop the disruptive fidgeting in class.
But he couldn’t help it. The sensation was annoying, like there was something crawling under his skin. He couldn’t concentrate on his school work and, although he normally loved soccer, today he had no desire to run after a dumb black and white ball. He wanted to find someplace secluded and just scratch at his itchiest spots.
“I dunno,” he replied irritably, stormy blue eyes narrowing as he distractedly watched some of his fellow teammates running drills up and down the length of the field. He shrugged his shoulders in a vain attempt to dislodge the feeling and groaned moodily. “Shit, I don’t wanna be here today.”
“Let’s ditch then,” Jason suggested, not at all adverse to the idea. He was only on the school soccer team because Tag was, he didn’t actually have much interest in the game himself. But ever since they were little, Jason had always followed Tag’s lead and did what he did. He never questioned it, even if he didn’t care for whatever activity Tag wanted to pursue. They were best friends. That’s just the way it was.
Jason watched with some worry as his companion squirmed. The breeze tousled Tag’s mop of unruly blonde hair, adding to the impression of angry irritation on his rounded face. He seemed about to fly off in a fury, and that was unusual. Normally Tag was a very easy-going person. He was playful and quick to smile, and most everyone liked him from their teachers to other kids their age. Seeing Tag look so annoyed was a little unsettling.
“Yeah okay,” Tag agreed, glancing in the direction of their coach as the man blew a whistle and yelled at some of the lagging runners on the field. “Coach Madison hasn’t noticed us yet, so we should be able to cut out behind the bleachers without him ever knowing we were here.”
“Sounds like a plan. Lead the way,” Jason flashed his friend a smile that, unfortunately, wasn’t returned. Normally Tag would have been grinning like mad over the prospect of mildly breaking a rule or causing some mischief. Like the time they had filled the history teacher’s office with inflated balloons. It had been Tag’s idea, and he’d infected all of the other kids in on the prank with his fun-loving attitude and broad sunny smile. Even the teacher had decided it was pretty funny when Tag flashed him that grin. It just wasn’t like him to be moody.
The two boys carefully backed up, keeping an eye on their coach and putting the other teenagers on the sidelines between him and them, to block the view of their escape. As soon as the man was thoroughly distracted by a collision on the field, the pair made a break for it, darting for the bleachers and the space under them, where they would be shielded by concrete supports that were almost bunker-like in form. Tag and Jason were both fast runners, thanks to having played soccer since they were in elementary school, and so the getaway was pulled off with ease.
Once under the protective shelter of the concrete, they followed the bleachers down to the far end of the field away from most of the activity. From there they would be able to easily slip out into the parking lot where their bikes were waiting, but for the moment the pair paused. Or rather, Tag came to an abrupt stop and with a short cry of frustration, he began to scratch furiously at his right shoulder.
Jason also stopped and looked curiously at the other teen. “What the hell is wrong?” he repeated his earlier question, disturbed by how hard Tag was scratching.
“I don’t know!” Tag snapped. The itching sensation was so powerful that it was actually pain and he felt like he was going crazy from not being able to get any relief. Heat was flaring through him, as if he were in an oven and not in the cool shade under the bleachers on a crisp early autumn afternoon. “I’ve been itching, Jase. It’s driving me nuts! It won’t go away, and it hurts!”
“Itching?” Jason frowned, stepping closer. He was a little disconcerted when Tag backed up, like he didn’t want the other thirteen-year old boy close to him, but Jason figured that was because he was irritated by whatever was bothering him. “Itching like how? Think maybe you got chicken pox or something?”
“No dumbass, I had that when I was five!” Tag gave him a quick glare.
“Well, is it a rash or something?” Jason stepped close again and grasped the sleeve of Tag’s jersey. He batted the blonde boy’s hand away. “Stop that, it probably ain’t good for you to be scratching like that if it’s a rash or an infection or something. Lemme take a look.”
Under normal circumstances, Tag didn’t mind Jason being close to him. They were best friends, after all, and had been since Jason had moved into Tag’s small middle-class western Michigan town - Twin Lake - when the pair were in kindergarten. They trusted each other completely, and mildly nerdy Jason was always the more popular Tag’s willing accomplice in whatever activity or mischief they could think of to get into. But today, Tag was so bothered by the sensations crawling under his skin that he felt stifled and irritated by Jason’s proximity. It took all of his will power to stand still and not bolt when Jason pushed back his jersey sleeve to examine his shoulder. It was a bizarre reaction, Tag knew it was, but he couldn’t help himself.
“Shit, Tag…” Jason breathed, his pale grey eyes glinting with worry. Tag’s shoulder was reddened from his scratching, but that was to be expected. What wasn’t were the three dark bruises in a line along the blonde’s shoulder. Not just normal black and blue, they were an angry rotting red color as well, as if there were blood pooling there in each spot. “What the hell?”
Tag tipped his head to see what Jason was looking at, and his eyes widened in surprise and not just a small amount of fear. “Holy shit, those weren’t there when I changed for practice!” he exclaimed, a touch of panic in his voice.
“What are they?” Jason was completely bewildered, as he’d never seen anything like those hideous-looking bruises. He gingerly touched a finger to the one nearest him, being careful and light with his pressure, since he knew that bruises hurt. Even still, Tag hissed in pain and sharply jerked his shoulder away, but just in that brief moment of contact, Jason had felt something weird. The heat in Tag’s skin would have been odd enough, but it had almost felt like there was something hard under the blonde teen’s skin…
“You got them on the other side too?” Jason asked, crossing around to Tag’s left and quickly pushing his sleeve up there as well, before Tag could flinch away from him. Sure enough, the disturbing bruising was there too, in exactly the same bizarre configuration.
He looked up and met Tag’s eyes. Fear and disbelief was mirrored between them. “Tag, how long has this been going on?”
“Bout a week now, but it’s been especially bad today and those bruises… they weren’t there before practice…” Tag pressed his back against the concrete wall and slid down until he was sitting on the ground with his knees up. He wrapped his arms around his legs and looked more frightened than Jason could ever remember seeing him look before. Not even when Jason had fallen out of a tree in the fourth grade and broke his arm had Tag looked like this, and that had been a pretty scary day. Jason had a feeling that if he could see his own face in a mirror he’d be looking the same. Breaking an arm was one thing; these strange painful bruises were something completely beyond their experience.
He knelt down close to Tag’s side. “You gotta tell someone about it,” he said quietly and seriously.
Tag looked at his friend; saw the worry in Jason’s eyes shadowed by the fall of his raven bangs. Yeah, this was serious. The pain in his shoulders, which was only growing worse with each passing minute, told him that. And Jason’s concern confirmed it. It was simply frightening to think that something might be wrong with him. Tag didn’t get sick very often, and the worst pain he’d ever experienced had been getting a stubborn baby tooth pulled. This was so far beyond that it was hard to comprehend. He could feel heat in his skin, flaring especially where the strange bruises were, but also between and behind his eyes. When Jason laid an imploring hand on his arm, it felt like ice.
“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Tag agreed, drawing in a breath that was sheared by his lungs and painful in his chest. “Think the school nurse is still here?”
By the time they made it across the school parking lot and into the building, Tag was pale and shaking, and Jason had to support him as they entered the lobby. The pallor that his skin was taking on was not just a lack of color, it almost looked like a lack of life, and Tag’s blue eyes stood out brightly as they burned with fever. Upon reaching her office, the school nurse took one look at the boy and immediately called 911.
As they waited for an ambulance to arrive, Tag laid out on a bench in the main lobby, shivering and feeling like he would go insane from the overwhelming desire to scratch all over as that bizarre sensation moved throughout his body, prickling here and there. His shoulders were now too painful to even touch. Jason sat beside him like a faithful sentinel, and occasionally held his hands to keep him from clawing at himself. He watched in panic as three small bruises began to appear on Tag’s forehead in a neat vertical row.
He wasn’t allowed to go in the ambulance with Tag when it arrived. The nurse drove him home instead. As usual, there was no one there yet, Jason’s parents both worked long hours in nearby Muskegon, so he simply sat alone in the darkened kitchen, waiting for the phone to ring. He hoped it would be Tag calling, telling him that it had all been nothing and that he was going to be fine. When Jason’s mother finally came home two hours later, she found her son still sitting there, quiet tears on his cheeks and trembling with anxiety.