whatever happened to normal?, Effy only please!

[michael edward capshaw !]

Michael scanned his surroundings. Dozens of mountain-tall skyscrapers surrounded him as he flew, reflecting the suns rays which had beamed down onto their sleek, shiny surfaces. The light glinted in Michael's eyes and for a moment he had to look away to escape the sun. He veered off the the left slightly as to avert his gaze from the brightness. He was now soaring graciously through the cloudless sky, nothing but a tiny flash of motion to the pedestrians miles below. Everything about the ability was blissful. Michael found that it was a good way to find serenity - flying. Nobody could disturb you - aside from the birds of course, but they tended to steer well clear of him on the account of him being about seven times their size. Michael grinned from ear to ear as the wind whipped his face and his hair flew backwards. The sounds of the busy streets below him were barely audible above the rushing sound of the air around him - and a helicopter?

Michael snapped his head back to turn around, trying to locate the source of the noise. Indeed, there was a helicopter, which appeared to be following him. The vehicle was a dull grey, with the letters 'NYPD' painted on in black. Cursing to himself, Michael sped up slightly. He didn't want to get caught, but at the same time he didn't wish to make it too easy for himself. The pathway ahead of him was perfectly straight and without and skyscraper shaped obstacles. In fact, by the looks of things it would lead him straight to Times Square. Glamourous. Just as Michael was thinking this through however, he saw yet another police helicopter emerge in the distance ahead of him. Brilliant, he thought to himself.
I'm pinned.

If either of those helicopters got close enough, then they could get a picture of him. His whole research here would be destroyed. His company ruined. No, he couldn't allow that to happen.


And so Michael swooped down towards the streets, now levelling off height-wise with the various apartment buildings, not as high as the skyscrapers that he had once been soaring past. He spotted a rooftop balcony to his immediate left and quickly flew down to land, his toes reaching the conrete patio as he gently floated down. He turned around to see that none of the choppers had seen his landing and then sunk to the floor - breathless. What he didn't expect to happen next was for him to see a red-headed girl looking straight at him, standing on the other side of the balcony.
"What the hell?"

[effy annaliese taylor !]

It had been one of those days where Effy felt almost... out of place.

To be perfectly honest, Effy wasn’t a city girl. She’d been raised in the middle of god-forsaken Odessa where no-one ever really went unless they were looking to add themselves to the local homicide list or wanted to paint to desolate landscape or something like that. Yet somehow, she’d always liked living there – the constant fear that you could be next in a serial killing, and the evenings under the sunset that filled the whole county’s dirty dusty landscape. She just didn’t like the people, that was all. She hated the school, with all the stupid students who thought they were better than everyone else because they’d gotten a new Chanel purse that, in Texas, was nine out of ten times faux leather. She hated the people she passed on the streets, with their bad body odour and overpowering Texan hillbilly accents, both of which Effy never hoped to develop. She hated the cheerleaders that always looked straight through Effy’s deep brown or occasionally electric blue eyes. Basically, Effy hated people, in general, the odd few earning her respect. Because, Effy didn’t have friends to prey on her emotions. Emotions made her weak. Emotions made her hurt. Emotions made her kill.

And honestly, Effy was sick of being an ‘unidentified serial killer’. For the time being, at least.

Because through everything that Effy was doing, every human being she lit up next to, every body that fell to her feet, through everything. Effy had always thought she could say no and any time, walk away, go back to school and get a decent amount of SATs. However, as time progressed, Effy hadn’t been able to stop – her obsession with killing people was slowly killing herself. Quite literally – the amount of electricity pulsing through her veins was incredibly unhealthy, and she’d probably be amongst her victims by the time she was thirty. It was this that was the wake-up call – the fact that she was going to die if she didn’t stop exposing herself to such bolts of electricity. It was a kill or be killed situation, and despite Effy’s obsession, for now, she was trying to calm the beast inside of her. And trust her when she said it stung like a mo fo’ing bitch.

As Effy looked around the streets she was currently stalking, she sighed, pulling a hand through her crimson hair, knocking off her blue beret. Maybe coming to New York hadn’t been the best of ideas. Everyone here was a victim – their unsuspecting eyes locked tightly onto the fascination of their newspapers and their ears blocked by the nine our of ten times shitty music blasting into their ears through their expensive iPods. Heading for the hotel she was going to be staying in as she learnt some self-control, Effy realised that someone was speeding around the corner, their little legs carrying them as fast as they could possibly going. Effy blinked suddenly, and ran to the corner, baffled as the alleyway was empty. Shaking her head slightly and pulling her beret back on, Effy walked back down the kerb of the pavement, heading towards the glitzy hotel she’d booked on her old dilapidated laptop.

Fifteen minutes later, Effy was lying on a comfy bed, one of those that you sink into as it moulds to your body shape. Effy smiled up at the lilac ceiling, and breathed in the scent of the Cadbury-wrapper purple of the covers, laying out her arms and legs like a star shape. Sitting up slowly as Effy heard a loud bang, her brown eyes snapped open, and she headed for the French windows – the only space between her and the balcony where she heard the bang.

Effy lit her hand up subtly behind her back for protection – she had to admit, if someone was looking for her, she didn’t think they’d have found her here. Her eyes glancing over the other side of the balcony, Effy gasped as she saw a man standing there. And now just any man – that familiar face, the one who was flying at the bridge that day. The other female there was insignificant. Effy scowled at him angrily for disturbing her peace, and he looked just as baffled as she was. Then, Effy suddenly made the connection – the man on the run, and the helicopter circulating above him – was that what he was here for? To turn her in? Effy smirked. Stupid man. He didn’t have the faintest what he was getting himself into.

“What the hell?” said the man, confused. Effy frowned – he had to bluffing. It wasn’t like she could trust him or anything – after all, he hadn’t even provided her with a name the last time they met. Raising a sceptical eyebrow, Effy sneered. “I could ask you the same question.” Effy said, her tone cold. “Thought you’d bring the bastards to my door, did you? You’re so wrong.”

After all, Effy had spent a whole year without being located, and she intended to keep it that way.

TAGGING ?! tom as michael !
WORD COUNT ?! eight hundred ninety... wtf? i haven't posted in a month :S !
COMPLETE ?! oui !
WEARING ?! this shit here yo !
TUNEAGE ?! turnabout sisters' ballad - masakazu sugimori, #1 crush - garbage !
GRAPHICS/TEMPLATE ?! Cat !
SAY WHAT ?! sorry this took so long !