Bvld. of Broken Dreams [Vi]

[William Talbot]

A tallish dark haired young man walked slowly around the outside of one of the many warehouses in this city he had found himself in, his mind a jumble of white noise overlaid on snippets of light and sound, faces warped into places, sights into scents and all of it made little to no sense to the boy as he shuffled through a doorway that was falling apart into the bowels of a dilapidated building into the darkness that he unknowingly could see though with unnatural ease, as he looked for some place safe to rest for the night...

~the next day~


A small pack of young gang members, thugs of all shapes and sizes walked through the run down old warehouse to the back where old junked out equipment was stacked into a kind of meeting area, safe from most of the elements and direct sight from the large open areas in the structures sides.

An area currently occupied by a lean and dirty faced young man in a navy blue hoodie, worn blue jeans and tired brown work boots.

Being in the majority, and feeling entitled, the pack of about twelve set upon the boy, yelling and throwing trash, to drive him out, and drive him they did, out into the sunlight and away from their sacred place of meeting, off into the alleys of the area, until he wandered into another building, a smaller warehouse, and then found a sheltered corner, under some old wooden and aluminum crates and barrels, a lost look in his eyes as he curled up huddled himself into a fitful sleep, plagued with faces he knew but could not place, and memories that fit as one, but did not fit with him, and a heat, burning and searing at his soul as another rival group to the gang that had run him off minuets before, moved like natives on a war path...

A rumble was about to go down, and this poor lost boy was going to be in the middle off it all...



(Note, I want this to take place right after Vi Robin leaves Vi at the safe house, before he takes her to Titans Tower, she can have her own reason's for being here, but she must not find Will until AFTER everything goes nuts)

[Violet Schultz]

It was deja vu all over again. Two gangs, both on the warpath and thirsting for blood. Neither caring who got in the way, as long as they could destroy their enemy and gain the respect that they so desperately desired but would never get in the world outside of their neighborhood. And they had even chosen an abandoned warehouse as a headquarters. Jeez, Jump City was no different from St. Louis, other than the Titans who so rarely patrolled down in this area.

She'd come for some recon, not wanting to get involved in the Gang wars of the region, but wanting to know their habits just in case they set their sights on her. After all, some people fought to join, but others were recruited. She hoped that they wouldn't come looking, but if they did, she would know enough about them that she wouldn't be caught off guard. She wasn't all too worried about fighting them off, but it was stupid to be caught with her pants down.

She was in the rafters of the warehouse, staying completely and utterly still and avoiding detection. They were certainly unobservant for a street gang. She hadn't had any trouble at all sneaking onto the premesis. She'd posted fulltime guards at the warehouse when she'd been running the party. Still, she supposed it wasn't all that unusual. All gangs had their strengths, and hers had used stealth and recon as their forte. The gang members drifted in and out with greater frequency as the meeting prepared to start, bad-mouthed teenaged gangsters lounging around on the piles of junk.

Her instincts told her that there was more than there appeared. This wasn't just any meeting. The fun was about to begin...

[William Talbot]

It started abruptly, the first group, a gang that called themselves the "Jets" started trash talking and boasting about how they would end the other gang, who called themselves the "10-70's" the code for a "Prowler" (the reason they didn't call the gang the "prowlers" is because that was the name of a cross town gang) and soon everyone was good and worked up, which was both good and bad, bad because it was a street fight, and good because the Jets where about to leave to face the 10-70's when the ambush happened...


Knifes, bats, crowbars, boards, chains, rocks, bricks, bottles and other improvised weapons started to swing, slash, clash and connect in the first few frantic moments of this paradoxical battle; warfare at it's most primitive and basic, circa first century, in the middle of one of the most advanced cities in a major leading nation in the early twenty-first century.


Blood was spilled, bones broken, and life's brought to the edge of death as the fight scattered out quickly into running battles, and deadly games of cat and mouse where the roles would as often as not switch without warning, the some two dozen combatants gave little thought to the homeless that had sought refuge from the previous night's chill, several being clubbed or shoved out of the way as the now scathed gang members sought only one thing, and one thing only; Blood...


A pair of Jets dashed into the warehouse a trio of 10-70's in hot pursuit, several crates being tossed and knocked into the path, in a vain hope of escape from the building, a sudden movement catching all five off guard as the worn, weary and dirty boy stood there, framed by crates and barrels, a tired and lost look in his eyes as the five gangsters stopped and looked at him.

The Jets charged, attacking/moving him from what they hoped was an escape route, the 10-70's bolting after them, stepping on or over the boy as he slid back on the oily concrete, a gash across his forehead, his arms up protecting his middle and face clumsily as the fight moved into the back, towards a large broken window, which the Jets used as fast as they could to escape, and adding insult to injury... or rather injury to insult, smashed the window, showering the 10-70's in sharp shards of glass.

Knowing that catching the Jets over more open ground would be next to futile (they where called the Jets because, no matter their size, all of them could run faster than most) the three 10-70's turned and looked at the dark haired boy as he slowly picked himself up, the danger of this situation being lost on him until a baseball bat came across his middle just as he got up into and kneeling position.

Whooshing out and then gasping back for air, the boy fell onto his side and groaned before he rolled over again and got to his feet, his eyes clouded and confused as he looked at the three that had decided to vent their frustration out on him without any warning...


As a rock came flying at his head, the boy dodged out of the way with a sudden movement that was almost inhumanly fast his eyes growing sharp and his breathing evening out as he sized the three up, and somehow knew that he shouldn't fear them, despite being out numbered, and having no conscious reasoning for his intuitive conclusion even as the bat swung a home-run swing at his head and he ducked away, turning as he did and bringing his hands up, and lashing out at the next attacker, a fist smashing into a jaw, cracking bone and hot blood gushing out as one fell and didn't rise to press his attack, the other two staring at their fallen comrade, the largest of the thee now crying out in pain, dazed and bleeding, felled in a single blow by this street trash snorting homeless scum...


The two attacked as one, charging at the boy as he stood his ground and reflexes shot his foot out into the middle of one and twisted himself away from the other, his fist finding the first's face, another bone cracking blow finding its mark moments before a broken bottle slashed his other arm, a cry of pain strangling out of his throat as he staggered back and held the torn and bleeding arm in his good hand, a thick, bright blue fluid staining his hand.


The gang banger stared at the blue blood that was oozing from the boy's arm in shock before he found his voice; "You... You're one of them..." he said accusingly as the boy stared back at him like he was crazy.

"Them?" he asked puzzled as his arm burned and ached, his insides suddenly boiling and his eyes hurting like hot coals had been pressed into them, as the thug circled around and got a switchblade someone had dropped and clicked it open and then approached, with pure bigoted hate in his eyes.

"Please... just, leave me alone..." the boy said as his eyes started to glow a bright blue, and the air started to get warm...


Why was everyone out to get him?

[Violet Schultz]

Violet recognized that it was time to intervene. This "brawl" was fine for those who volunteered to participate. It was about as rough as a gang fight normally got, sans firearms, and she wouldn't get in the middle of something like that. She'd been in the middle of many such fights in her life. However, the homeless guy that they were targeting clearly didn't want any part of it. It was despicable to involve innocent people in personal quarrels like that. Running along the horizontal beams, she dropped from the ceiling, using equal parts lights, boxes, and parkour skill to soften the fall.

She landed just in front of the homeless metahuman, in between him and the gang bangers. It must've been a strange sight. A girl who looked like a gang banger standing between the gang and a guy who was physically about one and a half times her size. However, her cold dark eyes made them think twice. There was a hardness to her face and a warning in her expression that spoke of experience in fighting.

"I think it's time you backed off, boys," she growled, her eyes flashing.

She couldn't feel much of the heat rising, since her mutation made her impervious to burns. However, she could sense the fire rising inside of him, but she wasn't all that worried about it. She was debating using her powers to scare them off, but she usually only used them as a last resort. Regardless, the cold anger in her eyes served only to cause the more outspoken of the gang to step forward, smirking. Before they could lay a hand on her, she rapidly spun to the left and chopped the lead man smartly on the neck. He dropped like a rock, but he would live. Looking utterly unruffled, she stepped back in front of the boy, an unspoken warning on her face.

[William Talbot]

The instant the dark haired girl that smelled of heat and burnt wood landed in front of him, he jumped back slightly, more from surprise rather than fright, but when he saw how she was dressed, and then how she attacked the first guy he had hit (who had gotten up and grabbed an old pipe) he was worried, and confused; why would she help him? She looked just like them, but wasn't one of them, so maybe she was part of the other gang?

If so, then he needed to be wary of her as well, even if she seemed to be keeping the others at bay, which he couldn't understand why, but--

A brick flew through the window behind him and sailed over his head at her, but he reached up as soon as he saw it and knocked it off it's path so that it landed harmlessly to the side, a flash of a mans face before his eyes for a moment before he shook his head clear and the group of gang members stood there in stand off with him and the girl...


Unsure what to do, the boy moved back as he felt the heat build and then surge, his temper suddenly flashing out in anger at this; he'd done nothing, and yet all these people where trying to hurt him, and he was just taking it, trying to stay out of the way, and they still didn't care.

"Just... Leave me ALONE!" he yelled out as the room suddenly was flooded with bright blue light, and beams of pure heat and light burst out from his eyes and struck the biggest thug, square in the middle of his right shoulder, a blood boiling shriek of pain filling the air as he was thrown back into a wall of crates that burst into flames as the beam burned through him, and then into the wood, a hole at least four inches wide burned straight through the punk kid, as he passed out wheezing and thrashing in shock...


Blindly the boy turned and ran running through the low wall and what was left of the window shoving the three newer gang members that hat thrown the brick back with such force that they scattered like a truck had driven through.

Running as fast as he could, fear on his face and steam in his glowing blue eyes he ran, and ran looking for anyplace that looked safe, his fractured memory suddenly flashing an even, soft, voice across his mind, a cruel one eyed mask in his vision, and pure terror gripping his soul as he ran, punching any threat that got to close to him as he ran panting, his arm still bleeding down the sleeve of his tattered hoodie, a single question drifting just out of reach deep in his mind: "who AM I?"

[Violet Schultz]

"Wow," she commented. "Now there's something you don't see every day."

She cringed in empathetic pain as he hit the boxes. That was going to hurt in the morning... Turning, she took off running, chasing after the strange boy as he fled. He was much faster than she was, but then he definitely had some advantages on that front. She would have to resort to extreme methods if she was to catch him. Flame patterns, pale at first, spread down her neck and the rest of her body, becoming brighter by the second. And as the patterns expanded, her legs moved faster, until she was running almost as quickly as he was.

"Wait!" she called. "I just want to talk to you!"

Footsteps of flame remained on the ground just a second after her foot left it, leaving a short trail of flame in her wake. Astonished, the gang scattered, some shouting threats as they went, others fleeing with their tails in between their legs.

[William Talbot]

Huffing, the boy stumbled slightly through some mud holes but stayed upright, his breath almost steaming as he ran, the girl calling out to him, made him turn and then bolt away with a fresh burst of speed, shock and awe at the display of her powers, confusion in his mind at his own powers, which he couldn't remember having...
Well, he couldn't remember much past about three weeks ago, so he didn't know if being able to throw someone across a room and set things on fire was normal or not, be it for him or everyone, so he wasn't going to take the chance...


Turning a corner the boy found himself suddenly and uncomfortably trapped, an old broken down crane that looked about a hundred years old was blocking the street between two more solid looking buildings, and the throbbing in his arm was only fueling his fear as he heard the girl following him, his eyes bright and wide as he looked for something to defend himself with, the storm of thoughts fighting ten times more intensely then the gangs had been only minuets ago, the noise between his ears growing deafening as words, voices, sights sounds and smells bombarded the forefront of his mind, the far reaches seeming to vanish in the noise as if he could feel his own mind slowly decay and die inside his skull.

As such, he was reverting to his more feral instincts, where where vastly more powerful than any normal humans...

[Violet Schultz]

"Calm down, man," she said, slowing to a walk as she approached him. "I'm not gonna hurt you. I just want to talk."

The flame patterns faded from her skin as her eyes reverted to their usual dark blue. Her breath came faster, but she could handle it. Her strength was returning as time went on. She could only hope that she would be back to her normal physical capacity. Before she had been caught by the lab, she wouldn't have felt so winded after so short a run. Even so, she could never use her powers like that without feeling sore in her limbs. It always hurt to use them that way, but it didn't show on her face. Ignoring the pain, she approached slowly, talking all the while as one would to an injured animal when approaching.

"It's alright, man," she said. "No one is going to hurt you any more. Just cool down, okay? You're going to be fine."

[William Talbot]

The boy panted lightly, more from pain than anything, the wound on his upper arm wasn't bleeding like it had been, but it still burned and ached, and the hoodie sleeve was now frayed badly, the blue tinted blood glinting in the light with an almost metallic shimmer as he held his arm and looked at her, his bright blue eyes still glowing with fright...


"Do... Do I know you? Or, Uhh... Do you know me? I don't think I know you..." he asked as he looked her over, a flash of a person bursting in his eyes causing him to blink and focus on the girls eyes hard, as if something was wrong with them.



"D-de-destiny?" he whispered as he looked down at her, his eyes wide in shock, a trail of dark red blood tracing down from the corner of her small mouth and down her chin onto the bright green shirt she wore, where it mingled with more dark red blood, a sizable wound at the apex of her lower ribcage, red and pink mass glistening where soft pale skin and a green shirt should be, the soft, solid warmth that should have been there in his arms was instead, clod and lifeless...


"Destiny?" the boy whispered softly to the dark haired girl as he squinted at her in uncertainty and fear...

[Violet Schultz]

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I don't know who you are. My name is Violet."

She stopped her approach and stood with her hands forward, palms up. He looked like he was totally confused, and also like he recognized her. Unfortunately, he was way off with the name. He seemed to think she was someone that she wasn't. Still, how could she walk away from someone who was so lost and confused, especially one that reminded her so much of herself. His powers were even similar to her own. When she'd first come to New York, she'd been treated much in the same way that he was being treated now.

"Why are you so afraid?" she asked, concern in her eyes.

[William Talbot]

"Violet..." he said in a hoarse whisper as he looked her over and tried to place the name and face together.

He came up blank as he realized the differences between the girl in his fuzzy dreams and memories and the girl that stood before him, the lack of dimples, the slightly fuller figure, the darker shade of blue, the darker hair, the leaner and more noble features of her face, and the sense of pure, restrained, all consuming heat that seemed to surround her...

She wasn't Destiny.


"... And I love you..." Destiny kissed the boy softly on the cheek and giggled as she then punched his arm and ran off, laughing as he gave a fake cry of discomfort and then chased her, laughing and calling out to her...

As Destiny's face drifted across his vision for a moment, he could tell that this girl, Violet, could never have been Destiny, his Destiny and as the echo's of the memory faded, he realized his own laughter was sounding hollow and strange in his mind, even as he strained to hold the memory captive and again, failed.


He looked at the girl again, his eyes wary and glowing as he flexed his fingers and watched her, his shaky broken mind struggling to understand her question and form an answer for it; "I... Because... Other people have..." he paused and looked to his hand as he gingerly moved away from his wound and the depth and width of the jagged gash could finally be seen; "Others have hurt me... For no apparent reason... And I don't know, anything... Anything at all..." he said almost wistfully as he looked at his arm and then back at her, a sudden chill sweeping over his body as a dark, smooth, even and low voice echoed in his mind: "You're not meant for anything other than destruction... Embrace this, and you will find peace of mind..."

[Violet Schultz]

"Don't 'know', or don't remember?" she asked, guessing from the lost look in his eyes that it was the latter.

She shifted into a more relaxed posture, dropping her hands to her sides and leaning to put her weight on her back leg. She was hoping that she could put him a bit more at ease, since he looked utterly terrified. However, she kept her voice muted. They were, after all, deep in the heart of contested gang territory, and while she had no doubt that they could defend themselves, she wasn't really in the mood to fight a mob of angry gang members hellbent on vengence and a tough rep. Besides, the guy looked nervous enough without adding surprise ambush to the mix.

"It's okay if you don't remember," she said, "but you shouldn't stay in this neighborhood. It's dangerous."

She was at a loss of what to do. Robin wasn't likely to take kindly to the prospect of adding another person to the safehouse, but she couldn't just leave him on his own. With his powers and lost memory, he could be dangerous to himself and anyone he encountered until he got a handle on his abilities. And his fear. First things first, they would have to get out of the neighborhood.

[William Talbot]

"I... I don't know... Remember... Maybe both... I just..." he gave her a lost puppy like look, his eyes shifting to a flat, dirty blue as the glow subsided and he let out a deep breath, his blood stained hand falling away from his injury as far off shouts and police sirens drifted their way, his gaze falling to the dirty and broken ground between them, his mind wandering, looking for answers, for the pieces to fit, but they all seemed to conflict with each other...


But the dark steady words that had flowed across his mind only moments before still echoed in the confines of what suddenly felt like a cramped conscience space, a dark and fuzzy mass of space filling his head with pressure, as if his very skull was being over stuffed with matter or two sentience's where battling for rights to his mind, the only outside sign of struggle being a sudden flash of navy blue light from his eyes and a trickle of shimmering blue blood running down his upper lip as his jaw worked wordlessly and he started to gasp as visions of what could only be called murderous intent and evil designs attacked his mind, and took over his thought patterns, his hands balling up into fists and dark blue flames burst out on his hands and he seemed to choke on his own breath, his eyes flaring out with licks of flame as he rasped out; "THe weeK MUSsst be... DESTroyed... ONLy thE StRoNG wilL... SURviVe..."

Then with a full body spasm "Shane Wilson" as he had started to think of himself since that night almost a week ago he had eaten with Dallas Baltimore at the diner, locked his darkly glowing eyes on Violet and then tilted his head as he stepped closer and then raised his hands and gurgled out; "YoU FAileD uS... SuCH POteniaL... GoOD Bye ViolET..."


Twin blasts of liquid flame exploded from his hands at the girl as something dark and hidden shrieked deep within the poor boys mind and he at last succumbed to the darkness that had been hiding the truth from him, the shock of the evil he had witnessed at last fulfilling it's purpose as the navy and sliver colored heat and light wrapped around Violet, its only task to send her to the great beyond...



(((OOC: To quote the Thing from the Fantastic 4: "It's Clobber'en time!")))

[Violet Schultz]

"Merde," she muttered under her breath as he began to speak in a demonic voice.

She held a hand up, parting the stream of flames around herself and cooling the air around her. The fire couldn't harm her, but she didn't want to get her outfit scorched. It would instigate a very awkward conversation with Robin later on, and she knew that he didn't trust her enough to take her at her word just yet. It might plant a seed of doubt that would be impossible to uproot. Everyone knew about Terra, the girl who had betrayed them to Slade. She suspected that half of the reason for the lengthy intermittant stage between discovery and testing was that he needed to build some level of trust before considering adding them to the team. On the other hand, she would probably have to tell him about this kid. He was rapidly becoming a threat.

"Cool it!" she called over the whoosh of the flames.

She walked steadily forward, her eyes glowing purple as her powers protected her from harm. Softly touching her fingertips to his left hand, she created a small amount of lavender flame which diverted his fires, creating a blue-purple barrier between them, where the fires met. Her gleaming purple eyes met his eyes steadily through the flames. Violet was worried that he wouldn't be able to regain control, and if that happened, she would have to cast a no-flame zone. As it was, she didn't want to frighten him further by taking away his power. Besides, she wasn't completely sure that she could.

She lifted her other hand and put her fingertips to his other palm.

[William Talbot]

Even as she closed on him, he stood there like a stony statue, the flame shifting from navy to red, to black to blue, and through all colors trying to find the right mix of heat, light and energy to harm her, but it was to no avail; she seemed to be immune to his projected attacks.

He was at a loss until she touched him, and then like a light bulb he realized that he was bigger than her, so physically she was no threat and with her hands there...

Grabbing her smaller hands in his he slid his grip down her hands to her wrists and pulled hard before he gave a powerful shove backward, his hands releasing her wrists as his inertia was transferred into momentum which was flowing from his body into hers.
"No, you failED, NOt mE, And I SHall NoT FAiL..."

The only way he could see to find peace was to prove to everyone that he wasn't weak, and that he could do what he was meant to do, and that no one could stop him, no one at all...