In one of those rooms, two figures sit silently in recliners. They barely look at the mammoth tv in front of them. The male is a hulking visage of terror. His 6'5", 290lbs muscular frame is shirtless. Multitudes of scars tear through tattoos and layer through other scars in his pale skin. Years of battles, long forgotten by most, helped to carve his body into a historical document of pain. His scarred face is painted in a blue and back, techno-looking skull full of jagged designs that only serve to sharpen the features of his face and bring more focus on his crazed, piercing, blue eyes. Clinging close to him is an aura of menace that never leaves him. Having long since forgotten his birth name, he is called Darkstar. The psychotic monster of MVW fame whose strength, and durability, increases from pain and rage. A former experiment by demented, psych ward doctors turned monster. His name was etched into the public mind through sheer brutality in mutliple places. MVW being the only one he considered home. Most know him as a maniacal beast. Eclipse calls him father.
In the recliner, spaced just out of arms reach, next to him sits a woman every bit his equal. Long, crimson hair hangs freely down her back. Her pitch black eyes filled with hardend insanity and hatred. A black kimono hugs the attractive curves of the 6'2" instrument of death that is her body. Her name is Andrea Raven. For well over a decade she's been second in command of a female terrorist organization known as the Dark Assassins. Unlike many that work beneath her, killing isn't a job. It's pleasure. Her twisted obsessions have ended more lives, for less understandable reasons, than racecars have turned left. The main focal point of these obsessions has been the man next to her. Her dual obsession with the posession of him, and the destruction of him, have caused countless deaths and heartache. Among those lost to her psychosis was Demonica, his first apprentice. People loosely connected to him were snuffed out early in their young lives, as well as anyone they cared about. If most people knew of her existence they would consider her to be a marauding demon. Eclipse calls her mother.
Since Eclipse appeared five years ago these two have mostly stopped trying to kill each other while somehow living under the same roof. Up till a month ago it wasn't just them in the house. His two most recent apprentices had lived and trained here. With their training complete they were sent into a world unprepared for the creatures they have become. With the apprentices gone, and Eclipse having ended contact with them, they've had a month of silent discovery. They've been stuck with only each other. The dilapidated mansion is now an empty nest that had once been constructed by violence. Tension filled rooms are now their daily reality rather than the abrupt violence of before. Nothing prepared them for this eventuality. Not their bitter history of love and hatred. Not their five years of semi-peaceful cohabitation. All either knows to do in response is sit in silence.
Neither is completely upset by this. There is no one truly like them in the world. No one who understands the other better. Their motivations. Their triggers. Both clearly known by the other. During their time living together there has been an unspoken acceptance of this truth. These two beings have been known over the years for only finding comfort when completely alone, yet now they do not wish to part as there would be nothing left in the world to truly relate to. Even with the occasional bloody conflict in the home they choose to stay. Over the last year they've clashed less over their past grievances and more on mere philosophy. Both proudly accept they are violent monsters who transcended humanity long ago. Both consider themselves to be dead and the world to be a persecuting enemy. They also agree that constant training through violence make people like them stronger and better ready to face a world that hates them. That's where the similarities end.
Darkstar believes, and passes this wisdom onto those he trains, that the violent creature inside should be restrained enough to keep control of one's mind and senses. Only to be completely freed when needed. He's the last of the true berserkers in the world. Andrea, on the other hand, thinks the demon inside should always be free. That the only way to truly embrace what they are is to constantly walk the line between control and frenzy. It's this subtle difference in philosophy that has defined them in every aspect of their shared life. It's created a chasm that cannot be crossed. No other subject brings this conflict to a head than their daughter. Eclipse has been the center of most of the physical attacks that have been made on each other over the last couple years.
Now, here they sit. Silently watching television and drinking tea at 12 am. The nocturnal pair are not fond of the short hours of darkness during the Alaskan summer. It's practically a season of hibernation for them. As they slowly wake up he scrolls through his DVR. Normally at this point of the day he would turn on Young and the Restless and then Days of Our Lives. He views the amplified character depictions of soap operas to be the reality of human behavior. He's watched them religiously for over a decade. Just below those two listings he sees "OWF Addiction". He opens the menu listing to find he hasn't watched in weeks. With Eclipse not in contact he can't help but turn on last week's show. He knows this could lead to a fight and could care less. He wants to know what is happening with his daughter. Andrea sips her tea before looking over at him silently. He returns the blank expression before they both look back at the screen. Soon he's fast forwarding. Then he spots a familiar face and presses play.)
Mr. P.
(His counterpart doesn't respond to his outloud thought of a man he once knew long ago. Both of them
take in every word, movement, and nuance as they watch the former president of his former home interact with their daughter.
Perry hands Eclipse back her World Title. Deep down a part of him stirs seeing that she now has that belt. Just as he finds a
weird fulfillment from his daughter achieving things in his footsteps his brief happiness is shattered. He barely has a
chance to fully degest that she hid away a hardcore belt when a few words later she's talking about rediscovering her
humanity. Instantly he looks over to Andrea. The nails of her left hand are dug into the arm of her recliner. Bitterness has
filled her features. He should have paid closer attention and noticed her humanity had returned. He was just so happy to see
her, and see her succeeding, he missed what his deranged ex saw right away.
They watch as she pushes through Perry and goes out to the stage to answer Eva's challenge. They listen intently as their
daughter explains how this could have been a normal match as if that's what she would have preferred. That she's locked the
thing inside away in favor of protecting the world from herself. This is why she hasn't been in touch with them. He looks
back over to Andrea as she crushes her teacup into shards of glass in her right hand. It's at this point he shuts off the tv.
He knows what's coming. It's unavoidable. He's irritated by words she hasn't even spoken yet. Still he waits for her to get a
grip and speak. The wait is not long.)
Our daughter is gone. That pathetic THING is wearing her skin again!
(Almost the exact wording he had expected. If Eclipse isn't completely giving into the monster inside then Andrea refuses to claim her has her daughter. Her real daughter is the monster. Anything less is something wearing her skin like a disguise. It's a limited perspective that never fails to get under his own skin. He's about to speak when she stands up and tosses bloody pieces of glass to the floor that had once been used for drinking tea from.)
I'm going to find this creature and make it return our child.
(That's the last thing he intends to allow to happen. His raspy voice speaks in a stern, but level tone as he stands.)
Leave her be...
(This does nothing to reduce her manic anger. Her tone sharpens into a greater irritant as it's directed at him like a blade.)
Stay here and watch your soap operas. I'll go do what needs to be done...like always.
(With that she extends her arm and flicks the dripping blood from her hand. It spatters his face as she turns to leave. Normally he never attacks her first. This is different. He will not allow her to harm their daughter. There's no warning as he lunges and rams her body into the wall with his own. Though momentarily taken off guard, her reaction is swift. A hand palm thrusts his throat before several blows hit his eyes. He steps back and yanks her from the hole in the wall and tosses her back first into the solid doorframe. She manages to kick his knee during the skirmish, but still finds the wind knocked out of herself on impact with the frame. He takes the moment to speak as he works his knee over to remove stiffness.)
You need to stop and listen before this goes any further.
(She works on willing air back in her lungs. Part of her wants to listen to what he has to say. Part of her wants to pull the blade hidden in her kimono and slice open his belly. Some things don't change.)
I don't care what you say. That is still your daughter. She's trying to find her way. When she wants our help she will come to us. And she will come to us. You're not going to hurt her. You're not even going to see her. Think about it. Stay here. Let things be.
(A twisted smirk crosses her features along with disbelief.)
It's so simple to you. Do nothing. Let that THING parade around in an Eclipse suit. Leave our true daughter lost in limbo somewhere. I can't do that. Just let me pass. I'll fix this lover.
(She used to call him "lover" as a way to irritate him with past history while trying to kill him. That, and because he was always still hers in her mind. Now it's more the latter than the former. Also force of habit playing a role. He jerks his head back and forth into a series of echoing, grinding cracks. The aura of menace that surrounds him increasing in density. His raspy voice becoming less stable in the manner it sounds.)
Call her a "thing" again...
(He used to tolerate the things she'd say. Now with them losing contact with their only child because of Andrea's attitude is more than he can handle. His ability to form words is slowly eroding as frustration sparks to anger. Darkness flooding his viens and burning them like an acid. A sensation he finds diffult to not enjoy. She sees the change. She always does. It's what she wants. To interact with the whole Darkstar rather than the 2%. The real one. She smiles and in an even tone mouths one word...
..thing...
(Restraint falls away as his eyes lose all semblence of true consciousness. All that is left in them is
madness as he charges. She flips back onto the table and leaps over him while pulling a tanto knife that she had hidden as
part of the kimono sash and slices his painted face open in mid air. Lost in his rage he slams an arm through the kitchen
table and smashes it in half. She cuts at an arc and opens one of the long scars on it. As well as the the three it crosses
over in one spot. They can both smell the blood in the air. She moves in to kick him but is tossed aside by him swinging a
kitchen chair at her. It explodes around her frame and sends her knife over the railing to the floor below. She bit her lip
from the power of his strike. A smile forms on her face again. She leaps back into the fray with him.
They battle it out for twenty minutes. Opening old and fresh wounds in many senses of the words. In the end he lifts her off
her feet by her throat and repeatedly uppercuts her stomach till she can do nothing but choke. It takes all he has to
recognize it is over and pull himself back. Only through the fear of killing her is he able to regain any sense of himself.
It's only now that he realizes he's still hitting her. He stops. It all stops. Instead of just letting her drop to the floor,
and walking away, he stays there. He lets go of her throat and holds her to keep her on her feet. She clutches her stomach
with one hand while choking air slowly back into her lungs once again. He checks her lower ribs to make sure they aren't
broken. Once she can breathe again she looks at him. Their faces both bloody and starting to bruise.)
..Al..alright. I'll stay...
(They stare at each other for a long moment. Just bleeding and looking at the only other person on the planet they understand. Without thinking about it or understanding they kiss. For perhaps the first time in a decade. Their blood mingling on each other's lips. Two creatures born from violence. Two monsters very much alone.)