[identity profile] jla-extras.livejournal.com
Time is irrelevant here.

Image after image of a life of pain, of slavery, of abandonment, destruction and humiliation play out before her. First, abandoned as a girl by a dead mistress and father who's revolutionary zeal failed in the face of his family's political ambitions.

Next by the wife her father abandoned with his mistress's child, left to be exploited by her unthinking brute of a son...Her half brother...her first kill.

After that, she was sold for her beauty to be just another plaything. More death followed until she was delivered to a man as flawed as herself, the elderly Blackhawk known as Chop Chop and then over to an assassin who fancied her "cooking," skills for his poison empire.

She has seen her life her with more clarity then it has ever been presented. She has witnessed the death she has put in motion. She has confronted those who used her to their ends. She has felt her flesh turn to ash with the nuclear explosion in Quraq. She has seen her own child become a more embittered and destructive version of herself. She has watched the wealth and security she acquired melt in her hands like slime and threaten to drown her. Still, Jade Nyguen - Cheshire - survives. She grows and learns and finally, after years, there is light at the end of the tunnel.

But there is one last figure between her, salvation, and oblivion and he has the audacity to smirk upon seeing her...
[identity profile] jade-nguyen.livejournal.com
Cold. Shivering. Feverish.

The assassin known as Cheshire sits up on the floor of the cave, blood dripping down on her lap from a gash on her forehead. She shudders and takes in a deep breath, helping herself up, trying not to touch the gash with a poison-tipped claw.

She looks around, breathing heavily, worried. It's dark, and Chop Chop is gone. She's alone again, and slowly losing her grip on reality.

The safety net that is Hera is still there, but Cheshire doesn't realize that, or she doesn't remember it.

Blacking out does that to a woman.

She leans against the craggy, rough wall of the cave, trying to see in the dark.

She can't.

That worries her, and she Cheshire doesn't like feeling worried. It's not the way an assassin should feel. Ever.
[identity profile] jla-olympus.livejournal.com
(Continued from here and here WARNING: This post contains disturbing content.)

Those serving penance or those still in grief from the War with Man's World still care for the gardens. Still ponds continue to welcome refugees. Despite the soothing beauty here - unparalleled outside of the realms of Gods - there is a stillness and sadness to this place. Like all of this nation, however, the bedrock of this place is pain and the beauty is what grows on top of it. It is a reflection of the outside world in a sense, with the floodplains of mighty rivers giving life growing silt to those on their shores. To create the most cultivated and cultured places in the world - from the depths of Atlantis, to the shores of the many islands she once and still does in her fashion rule, and even the far off shores of Lady Pele` - one needs fire. Volcanic, uncontrollable, wrathful and unbelievably destructive.

As Hera watches the proceedings in the nearly forgotten cave by the sea, she wonders if her wise stepdaughter would be able to tell her how many volcanoes would equal the power of what her charge unleashed in the Quarqi capital.

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