Malcolm sighed when he heard that Daya had gotten up and defeated the villain. He then turned and saw Daya signing something. He had studied sign language many years ago, so he knew what she was saying, even though the news reporter was asking for help on translating what she’d said.
“Not much I can do, even if I wanted to. I’m not a fucking medical doctor. I’m a damn engineering scientist,”Malcolm snorted. He kept watching the tv though, curious what would happen next.
Daya’s body lay untouched for a moment before a med team arrived to assist her.
Her face was covered out of respect for her identity, as her mask had fallen off.
“Fucking amateurs,”Malcolm said with a condescending snicker.
He didn’t turn away from the tv just yet, but he was definitely thinking about turning it off. He didn’t know much about Daya, or her superhero persona, but she was either having a rough day or she just didn’t do her job that well.
The news lady was in tears by time she spoke again “our goddess has fallen today. And we don't know if she will rise again”
“‘Goddess’? Fucking hell, who the fuck is this woman?”Malcolm burst.
Malcolm stood straight, watching the news closer. If this woman was important enough to be called a goddess, then he wanted to know why. But, if it was just a stupid superhero name, then he was going to be pissed.
Daya lay in the back of an ambulance, heading to the hospital quickly
Malcolm moved to the front of his store, flipping the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’. He then went into the back room again, shifted a carpet in the corner of the room to reveal a trapdoor, and went down into a hidden basement, his laboratory.
He went to a computer, researching any info he could find on Daya and her superhero persona.
Daya was a successful lab experiment made by the military. Her strength overwhelmed that of a champion bodybuilder, but it had its drawbacks like lowering her body temp dangerously low
Malcolm sighed and rolled his eyes.
“Fucking military. Maybe I’ll blow them up first, once everything’s prepared. Wouldn’t that be a perfect way to spite the bastards that wanted to keep my studies for themselves. Too bad most of my research was blown up with half my body,”he muttered.
He continued his research.
Daya, at the age of eight, had already killed at least three guards. Allowing her to escape from the camp, since then she's been reprimanded to act as a hero for the people..
“Do I see potential here? Or was she brainwashed even more after this?”Malcolm hummed.
He wondered what else he could find, and continued.
(I'm out of ideas for her trauma.)
(Lol, that’s alright. Well, what about details on her superhero persona? Like her superhero name, and the reason why she was called a ‘goddess’?)
(46663-3377777777, it spells God-ess. )
(So… Is that like her experiment number? How does that connect to everything else? Is that her superhero name? What? I’m lost)
(it's her experiment number, which, in old texting ways, it spells out goddess, how she got her supper name.)
(Okay. Thumbs-up)
(So… it also is technically your turn. Or do you want to just say that Malcolm found all of this out and we go from there?)
(Alright)
Malcolm hummed at the sight of the numbers and their translation. Daya was a goddess indeed, but likely not in the way everyone saw her.
“Alright, Daya, what really happened to your damned necklace? Because I think now that it might not have been an angry brother,”Malcolm mumbled.
He turned off his computer and headed back upstairs. He paused before going back to work, wondering if the news channel had anything else to report on Daya, or rather, God-ess.
Daya had been on the live monitor as she lay in bed, a breathing tube down her throat and some blood transfusion machines around her
Malcolm watched a moment, then abruptly shut the tv off. He took a deep breath, noticing how shaky his hands had become.
“Fucking assholes don’t have any sense of dignity,”he hissed under his breath.
Malcolm turned away, sitting down in a nearby chair and looking at himself, at his countless scars. He shouldn’t have lived that day, when the explosion caught him. He should’ve been a corpse, buried under several floors of scientific study. But, he had lived, without help, without proper medical attention. He didn’t know how, but what he did know was that he hadn’t been forced to suffer living in a hospital bed for ages, hoping for release.
“If they would’ve ever released me,”he sighed.
Daya’s ‘brother’ had just walked into the shop “hello?” he asked sharply, his voice rugged
Malcolm heard the bell above the front door ring and his shaky body immediately stilled. His eyes narrowed momentarily at the tone of the man’s voice, but he quickly composed himself and walked out of the back room.
“Greetings. How might I help you?”Malcolm asked.
As he approached his typical place at the counter, he eyed the man, wondering if he had anything to do with Daya. Malcolm also wondered why he even cared.
