Apollosarcher
Emma
Hey Im Jordan
Plank Sinatra
Silly
RPM
Stryder BC
Fabala
MaeB
WardenCelestine
Hi. I’m Estella.
No, she sighed, so faint the sound of wind at two thousand feet above the ground easily swallowed the sigh whole, her golden strand hair a constant stream carried by the constant air moving around her as she floated, liquid gold eyes pouring down to what she saw below her. It all happened in slow-motion to her, and all of it so easily the sigh took more effort than stopping all the artillery shells, or the floating in place flight at a few thousand feet above ground level.
It had always been instinctive, intuitive, easy. The hardest part had been dying, and even that wasn’t quite true: learning to live isolated, surviving without her parents had taken her most of the last year of her…post-life? New life?
Of all the things that came easily to her, answers were never, ever, one of them.
Hello, I’m Dawn.
It held an overbearing hint of ‘hello, fellow children, I am, of course, one of you’ meme to it, but she couldn’t think of anything better. Not intervening in Syria had proven difficult. Not getting involved in Africa was even harder, even though the more she learned about the conflict, the more she questioned if she would do any actual good there or just make it worse.
Ukraine felt differently. One, Imperialist country, invaded another, smaller, non-Imperialist nation. A former client state that had been drifting westward. But would that make her some kind of champion for the west? Would she introduce herself by picking some side? The series of gaming out what the world would do when they found her, what people would think, how they would contort and distort what she tried to do with their own spin…dizzied her head to the point of nothingness.
She saved people. She had saved no less than a thousand, and more, families in the past year. None of them saw anything, at least, none of them remembered anything. ‘Angels of golden light’ had been talked about in increasing frequency, but no one had made any connection to a new metahuman. The second sigh was louder. Then something unexpected happened:
He sees me.
She knew he was one of them. She’d seen him before. She’d stalked them, watched them, listened in on them. They thought they were safe; no one was safe if she wanted to see them, if she wanted to listen. It violated so many norms of privacy and secrecy, and she was certain her mother would give her a lecture on national security, but mom was dead, and Estella had finally had enough of watching.
She didn’t float down, she didn’t fly down, she went down like a beam of golden light, quick as a lightning bolt, she was simply there, in front of him. “Stop.” Her big, gold, eyes looked afraid, her typically sing-song voice uncharacteristically shaky, but very human.
