chapter three
other-worldly
"HOLY SHI-" The shocked exclaim from the lips of Analisa Morgan is abruptly cut-off when an enormous, water-conjured hand slams into her significantly smaller body with the force of a thousand tsunamis, throwing her back upon impact. Swiftly pushing herself back up from the hardwood of the pier in which she landed, and with her gaze glaring upward toward the face of the elemental, she can't help but think upon the notion that, out of the wide array of oddities she had come face-to-face within her time, it was a spout of water with a serious anger problem that was kicking her ass.
"Keep up, nightfall," Passing by the knocked-down hero whilst in flight, Quentin, with his fish-bowl appearing helmet raises to obscure his appearance, speaks these few quick words with an obvious sense of teasing laced within his smooth tone. In response, he receives the middle finger from the female, which he simply smiles vastly at, before finally, flying off to continue their uphill battle.
"Fucking newbie," Analisa mutters beneath her breath as she simply watches the oddly-dressed man glide toward the elemental, leaving her in the trail of his mystical gas. Unwilling to allow the newcomer to complete all the heavy-lifting of the situation, the palms of her hands turn to a downward direction, shooting out a powerful ray of darkness, and propelling her into the air.
Rising to the level of the monster's mostly hidden face, Analisa sends a rapid-fire flow of dark energy into the swirling water, her magic fading into the liquid as it becomes absorbed by the elemental. The constant darkness that seeps out the palms of her hands mixes with the green magic that Quentin throws at the beast, conjuring a beautifully destructive array of light, come together in an attempt to bring down the monster before then. Whilst it is momentarily entrapped within their magic, Analisa turns toward the male fighting beside her, calling out, "What's our strategy?"
"It won't stop growing until it's away from its water source," Quentin responds to the female after shooting yet another blast at the monster, receiving a simple nod in return for his words, his words having properly conveyed what he had intended. "We need to do it quickly, too, before it becomes even more powerful."
"Let's do this," Analisa mutters the few words quietly, the audibility in which they hold only just able to be heard by the ears of the cape-wearing man. However, due to the sparking conversing between the pair, they quickly find themselves both caught off guard by a sudden attack from the hand of the elemental, Analisa only just having enough time to throw up a shield conjured from dark energy. The water slams against the barrier with an unmatched level of brute force, the impact causing the two to skid backwards slightly, but barely inflicting any real damage upon them.
Quentin, having been the one to be flung the furthest back, comes to a halt just before he slams into the concrete foundations of a near-by bridge, catching himself using his green-coloured magic. He takes a moment to regain his usual sense of composure, and, just as he is about to rejoin the fight, a voice echoing from behind him catches his attention. "Hey, sir, I can help! Let me help. I'm really strong, and I'm... sticky."
Upon noticing that the voice was familiar, and had danced within her ears before, Analisa's head whips around to gaze upon the newly-arrived individual, and, as her eyes lock onto those of the person behind her, her heart skips a beat. Placed upon their face in a, albeit bad, attempt to obscure their identity is a mask that would usually only be seen at a masquerade event, yet, this does not prevent the female from concluding who it was immediately, their name bypassing her lips with shock weaved within it's every syllable. "Peter?"
However, Analisa finds herself unable to utter so much as another word, as the vastly sized hand of the elemental slams into her again, yet this time she was unprepared to fend it off. She is thrown harshly through the air, and impacts violently upon the concrete flooring of the arch bridge, with a stinging sensation arising from her hairline as a broken fragment of the wall slices her skin. A singular crimson droplet of blood cascades down from her wound, tinting the eye-portion of her mask ever so slightly. The best she can do at that moment, though, is merely wipe away the blood as best she can, and, with a jaw clenched in frustration, turn back around and face the monster.
"We need to lead it away from the canals," She overhears Quentin inform the terribly-masked teenager of the plan, only mere fractions of a moment before he flies directly past her, the elemental closely following behind as if it were a tsunami surging through the beautiful Italian islands. Quickly propelling herself upward, the female moves beside him also, and side-by-side they lead the monster on a chase, weaving in and out of the many intersecting canals, acting as bait to the much larger predator.
Upon the first opportunity, they guide the creature away from the water it was feeding upon, and finally bring it to a halt within the midst of a square, with a bell tower casting shadows into the area. With the two heroes taking a singular moment to face one another, and offer a nod to the other to ensure their minds were both alike in their current thinking, they both fly off in opposite directions, swiftly circling the gigantic monster that towers over them.
The already swelling sense of frustration within the female threatens to bubble over as her dark magic does not harm the elemental, and only momentarily stuns it, at best. Analisa, having no clue as to what else she could do to harm the monster, simply continues to throw balls of black-tinted energy toward the monster in hopes that, miraculously, something may change. Yet, the universe seemed to have other plans, as barely a few seconds later, she had been knocked down once again, thrown to the floor, and unable to stop the creature.
As Analisa painfully stands from the ground once more, refusing to be taken down without a much more substantial fight, a sense of utter surprise spreads across the facial features of the female. Before her eyes, humongous green tendrils of Quentin's signature magic shoot out of the sky, piercing through the resistant body of the elemental. Although he may struggle to uphold his non-physical grip upon the water-monster, Quentin's magic does not falter for even a fraction of a moment.
And, with a tiny sense of awe glistening within the eyes of Analisa, she watches from afar as the elemental is brought to nothingness at the hands of hands of Quentin, who is thrown back as the water explodes in one final moment of violence. At first, only silence ensures the one-man victory, which had been helped, in the opinion of Analisa, only slightly by his female partner. Deep breathes escape the lips of both those who had been involved in the uphill fight against the monster, that being until the brief silence is shattered when the citizens, or visitors, of Venice emerge from the spots in which they once hid.
An echoing symphony of clapping and cheering erupts from within the square, those who had watched on as destruction unfolded celebrate for their supposed 'heroes', both new and old. A sense of relief is able to seep into the hearts of those once victims of the elemental's wrath, respect toward the mysterious newcomer to the earth sparking after witnessing him save them, even when the woman they had already entrusted with their protection could not.
While Quentin simply allows himself to soak in the appreciation of the people for a short while, the eyes of Analisa instead flicker around, guilt managing to creep into her heart as she gazes upon the destruction that had unfolded due to their fight. This included the fallen bell tower that, whilst the two had been utterly distracted by the elemental, Peter had so desperately tried to hold up, only for it to fall due to their actions in the end. And so, after glancing once more at the web-shooting teenager, Analisa approaches her partner for that fight, taking a gently grip upon his arm. "We need to go."
Offering the crowd one final heroic salute as a manner of bidding farewell, Quentin does as the female requested, lifting both himself and her into the air with great ease. Analisa swiftly gains control of her flight, pushing away from the man, and instead, gliding through the air beside him, leaving a trail of darkness in her wake. With their destination being set upon the location of Fury's temporary secret base, the two travel swiftly whilst consumed by silence for a few long minutes.
Yet, before they can accomplish their journey back, their course is off-set when a slight nudge can be felt upon the shoulder of Analisa. Turning to view the source, her eyes land upon none other than Quentin, who is gesturing toward a nearby rooftop. Taking the hint in which he was attempting to convey, she lands upon the peak of the building, and, as if she were expecting some deeply grim news, she directs her expectant gaze upon the man who had fought valiantly beside her. "What is it?"
"You're bleeding," after taking off his fishbowl-like helmet, Quentin gestures vaguely toward the woman's hairline, directing his action at the same spot in which a stray piece of metal had sliced earlier. Gently placing her finger upon the wound, as if observing its severity, Analisa barely flinches when she pulls it away and gazes upon the newly-shed crimson colour of blood that stains her hand.
"It's barely even a paper cut. I've had much worse," Analisa brushes off the concerns of Quentin with great ease, caring little toward her small level of bloodshed. The man across from her uplifts a singular eyebrow at her, to which she responds with words to further emphasis the wounds tiny impact. "You should have seen me after my last fight, the blood was even dripping from my eyes. I didn't even have my mask to hide it."
"That's... disturbing," a few creases emerge from within the space between Quentin's eyebrows, images concocted from the female's descriptions of the event flickering through his head. Yet, even with this in his mind, he does not step down from putting an importance upon the cut within the female's forehead, and so, he continues. "But a wound's still a wound. I could always clean it for you, if you'd allow me to."
Giving off the slightest eye-roll when the male's words register within her mind, Analisa stares at him with an unimpressed glint shimmering within her darkly-coloured eyes. Ensuring that she plasters a false smile upon her lips, she puts up a well-trained, sarcastic facade of charm, known you many as he way to push away any unwanted requests. "I'll be just fine."
"You sure? It's a one time offer," quirking a singular eyebrow at the antics of the female, along with with an irresistible smirk dancing upon his upturned lips, Quentin teasingly utters these few words. His gaze comes to reach a mutual meeting point with that of the individual who had fought alongside him, ensuring that their eyes linger upon one another's for a few fleeting moments.
"As I said, it's nothing," Analisa continues to deny whatever attempts to aid her minuscule wound Quentin puts forth, never truly having been one to allow herself to bask in the help of another; both her independence and stubborn pride sparking such a reaction. "I'm a big girl, I can deal with a little bit of blood."
"Okay, whatever you say," Quentin uplifts his arms in a manner of feigned surrender, finally backing down from his half-hearted advances. After a couple of fleeting seconds tick by, an overly charming laugh echoes from his throat and a seemingly genuine smile flickers over his lips. "I'd say we make a pretty good team."
"Yeah, definitely," all previous sense of teasing which had once been woven within her voice had slipped away within the span of only a few moments, Analisa's demeanour morphing into something much more solemn, and sorrowful. Her eyes finally flicker away from the eyes of Quentin, and instead, focusing upon her own hands, which shake only just noticeably.
"Something is bothering you," Quentin pick up on her newly downfallen mood with great ease, the female, on this sole occasion, barely caring to hide away the true emotions which emerge within her. A sense of concern seeps out from his voice when his words echo from upon the rooftop, his smile fading away upon reaching this realisation.
"It's just... odd, y'know?" The words of Analisa trail off slightly as she struggles to phrase her thoughts in such a way to properly express the notions which rush throughout her mind, the female never daring to gaze back into the eyes of Quentin. "Before I became one of the good guys, it was always just me. But then, I joined the Avengers, and since then, they've been by my side for every fight, even when it turned upon one another. But now, they're not here, and it kind of feels like I'm alone again. It feels unnatural without one of them by my side."
"I know I probably don't live up to any of the Avengers, but you have me to fight by your side now. Even if I may not come anywhere close to Tony Stark, I'll be here," Making an attempt to bring even the slightest slither of ease to the heart of the female, trying his best to shoot her a tiny, sheepish reassuring smile, a kind of expression which is never returned in full, as the female quickly moves into another topic which was causing her a bother to avoid having to acknowledge his words.
"I don't miss having to be their hero. For some reason, people still look up to me to save them, but today... I couldn't even win a fight against some water," a dry chuckle, laced deeply with a wound-up sense of annoyance, her jaw visibly grinding ever so slightly as she gives off an eye-roll.
"Hey, you held your own against the elemental, that is no small feat," Quentin states with utter certainty toward the woman's accomplishment of the day, his brow quirking ever so slightly as the woman shakes her head in disbelief. "Even if you haven't realised, you are more powerful than you think you are."
"Yeah, as if," A scoff of disbelief bypasses the lips of Analisa with great swiftness, shaking her head in doubt of his words. "It would've been incredibly helpful if I'd somehow just magically stumbled upon this power before, it would've been immensely useful. But I doubt that exists, at least, within our world. You were the one that could actually fight the elemental, I was completely useless."
"You're jealous," Quentin does not remain blissful toward the underlying sense of envy hidden amongst every syllable the rolls off the female's lips, and, in an attempt to bring a light-hearted nature into the downfallen mood, mockingly calls her out for this inevitable emotion, a crooked smirk handing upon his lips.
"Shut it, Fishman," Analisa snaps back at her male counterpart by sending a glare his way, which does not serve it's intended purpose, as this only causes a sting of hearty chuckles to emerge from within the man. She sarcastically rolls her eyes at the laughs of Quentin, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose as she sighs jokingly.
"Fishman?" Quentin arches a brow of sudden amusement as his newly-uttered nicknames dances within his eardrums, the outer corners of his lips quirking, causing a goofy expression to become plastered upon his features, his eyes reflecting his slight sense of happiness through its glimmer of emotion.
"The helmet," Analisa gestured vaguely toward his head, which had once adorned his fishbowl-appearing helmet. Although, after realising she had forgotten that he no longer wore it, a sense of giving up, on her joke, specifically, crosses over her features. "It kinda looks like, y'know... Never mind. We, uh, we should most likely get back before Fury dies of, y'know, fury."
"When did you begin caring for the feelings of Fury?" Quentin inquires with a slight twinge of surprise within his voice, having known her to be one to openly bad-mouth the likes of Nick Fury, and backchat his every order. Yet, there she was, beckoning him to follow along with her and the plan in order to please the man she openly disliked.
"He's somewhat of a necessary evil," Shrugging as she simply explains the complexities of her relationship with the infamous agent, the story of their many encounters being one could take hours to complete. "It's in my best interest to not entirely piss him off, since I may need him next time I find myself in prison."
If it weren't for the fact that Quentin already knew of the woman's past from his encounters with her upon the world, a surprising feeling would have spread throughout him, but he simply nods instead. And so, with a few more words uttered between the two, they swiftly propel themselves into flight once more and commence what small fragment of the journey back to their temporary base is left after their short, momentary break from reality.
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A/N
so this chapter is a little
longer than the previous
ones, so don't feel scared
to let me know if this felt
a little too long. also, this
isn't one of my favourite
chapters within this book,
but it still is able to serve
its purpose, so i hope you
enjoyed! xx
thank you all so much for
your support for this book
so far, it honestly means so
much to me, and warms my
heart 🤧💞 anyway, all you
reading this, how has your day
been? i want to get to know y'all
better, cause you guys are great.
my pm's are always open if you
wanna talk 👀
anyway, that's all for this
chapter! I hope to see you
in the next one also! (: