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queenslayerbeeThis is a premise I've thought about a lot. Maybe one day I'll write it to its full potential, but as usual, I love to use short-form writing to dip my toe in longer, more ambitious stories.
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The little girl didn't look much like Mia, for where she shared their father's features —compact but athletic build, hair like hay, chocolate-brown eyes, easily-tanned skin, sharp jaw—, the kid had grown to resemble her own ailing mother: lanky, porcelain-pale, with tight black curls and a moon-shaped face; but in her half-sister's eyes, if the wrong shade of brown, Mia spotted the same haunted quality that she'd seen in the mirror, over fifteen years ago.
Hardened heart, that night she wasn't a hero, someone who believed wrongs could be righted, the right way; she was the child who learned they couldn't be, when complicity and apathy and power came together as an impenetrable shield.
It proved to be a flawed design, perfect to protect only reputations, against the swift arm of righteous justice; Mia chose to incarnate something altogether different, ancient, primordial —and in the morning, as the world arose to the shock of their apostle on the ground, gunshot to the throat, suffocated in his own blood, a casualty to petty thief… Mia drove away, frigid heart and dry eyes; the heroic cape she once wrapped herself in, at once proud flag and safety blanket, now barred from her.
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Author's note: I won't lie, I'm very happy I got to write two parricide stories in this event xD
And I'm taking the chance to do a little promo for the DCU Femslash February Comment Fest I'm running on my DC F/F community during this month! Come and participate :P
Title: better than being the prey.
Fandom: DC comics (post-crisis / Green Arrow).
Character/Pairing: Mia Dearden.
Summary: written for the prompt: "Any, Any, Heart of a hunter" in the Three Sentence Ficathon.
Word count: 200.
read more
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The little girl didn't look much like Mia, for where she shared their father's features —compact but athletic build, hair like hay, chocolate-brown eyes, easily-tanned skin, sharp jaw—, the kid had grown to resemble her own ailing mother: lanky, porcelain-pale, with tight black curls and a moon-shaped face; but in her half-sister's eyes, if the wrong shade of brown, Mia spotted the same haunted quality that she'd seen in the mirror, over fifteen years ago.
Hardened heart, that night she wasn't a hero, someone who believed wrongs could be righted, the right way; she was the child who learned they couldn't be, when complicity and apathy and power came together as an impenetrable shield.
It proved to be a flawed design, perfect to protect only reputations, against the swift arm of righteous justice; Mia chose to incarnate something altogether different, ancient, primordial —and in the morning, as the world arose to the shock of their apostle on the ground, gunshot to the throat, suffocated in his own blood, a casualty to petty thief… Mia drove away, frigid heart and dry eyes; the heroic cape she once wrapped herself in, at once proud flag and safety blanket, now barred from her.
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Author's note: I won't lie, I'm very happy I got to write two parricide stories in this event xD
And I'm taking the chance to do a little promo for the DCU Femslash February Comment Fest I'm running on my DC F/F community during this month! Come and participate :P
