Post by Christine MacTaggart on Nov 23, 2008 21:41:41 GMT -4
OOC: not sure if this is in the right place - so if it needs to be moved later, go for it
Athena was ten when she was found by Tony Stark, sitting by the side of the road, not moving, just sitting there, watching with expressionless eyes. A pretty little thing hidden under the dirt and dust, the blood and the bruises (although, Tony never did find out who the blood belonged to for the little girl was not injured save for the bruises). Wide blue eyes stared up at him, watching him, but never saying a word, never moving from the seated position he found her in. She never said a word when he picked her up, holding her close to him as he spirited her into the vechile he had procured, taking her to his home/lab. She never moved from her seated position, and if she did, it wasn't easily.She was always so stiff when they moved her in order for her to excerise. Tony would only sigh and just tell them to continue as they were already doing. That something would break her free of whatever was keeping her in the cataleptic state, her catatonic state. (Either that or drive him to the bottle was the common refrain by some of the staff). Nor did she ever utter a single word - not a hello, not a good bye, not anyone's name. She just sat there, perfectly quiet, perfectly still - the very picture of what the old adage had been - "children should be seen, and not heard".
She was eleven when she said her first word, or rather, her first word after she left her year long bout of catatonia. It was so soft that you could barely hear it. So soft that you had to strain your hearing in order to be sure she had spoken. But she had spoken and that was only the beginning. It had been a name - "Kevin" - but there was no Kevin there and no-one was quite sure how she learned the name, but no-one really questioned her choice of first words (in fact, many were glad it was something relatively benign). The fact she spoke was more important to them then anything else. Tony soon regretted his wish that her state was broken when he discovered that even though she gave the appearence of not being able to hear them, that she had been - and that she learned several variations on the various profane words he and his team used. Especially after she gave a rather anatomical impossiblity of shoving one's head up their ass to remove the ten foot stick that was obviously causing them to be pissed off to the therapist that was helping her learn to rewalk. Tony revelled in the fact that the child he had found was intelligent, quickly picking up things from his staff, always asking the right questions (and even wording what would have been a wrong question in just such a way that she still got the answer she sought). When Athena turned twelve, Tony decided that she needed a name, that calling her "the child", "the girl", "her", and "she" were not going to help her learn who she was or discover who she had been. And since the child had no memory of life before Tony finding her at age ten (and what she did remember made no sense so she never spoke of it), there was no memory of what she was called before he had found her. A young Greek woman, her nanny of the day (who also held a degree in nanotechnology), proposed the name Athena - since she had arrived "fully" grown. Tony looked down at the young girl and asked her what she thought. The newly christened Athena was silent for a moment, pondering for a while before giving a firm nod. "Yes," she whispered. Athena was the only name given the twelve year old - and most believed no other name was needed. Athena silently agreed with them - Athena was short and easy to remember.
Barely thirteen years old, Athena found herself once more catatonic - only this time, it was self-induced, and didn't last nearly as long. But it was a long, frightening six months for Tony, Athena and the rest of the team. Most thirteen year olds don't move things with their minds, don't read other people's minds, don't move through a wall like it was nothing. Athena mentally shut down when she started to hear the voices, it was her only defense against the swarm. Thirteen years and seven months old, Tony awarded Athena with a soft blue headband. He slipped it on her head and waited. Blue eyes fluttered to life and she smiled up at Tony, a faint "Thank you" escaping her lips. Now the voices were quiet and Athena was able to interact with people again. Ages fourteen and fifteen blurred together, Athena barely remembering those milestones as her days were now spent training to help those who had helped her. But, in the farthest recesses of her mind, Athena could feel herself growing bitter at being treated like she was nothing more then a weapon, a tool now. But she never said a word about it - never protested. Because, if not for them, she'd still be there on the side of the road, either that or dead. So she owed them, and doing as they wished was the only thing she craved (for now at least).
Of course, things went interesting when she turned sixteen (and most people began to wonder if Tony was dying his hair at this point, that or he was getting real good at hiding how drunk he was). It was at this age, the tender age of sixteen, that Athena discovered that there were such things as boys. It was by large something that was rather harmless - but it served to remind the staff that she wasn't a little girl anymore. Athena would pour over the magazines and newspapers they would retrieve, her eyes focusing on the photos that accompanied the articles. She would clip out photos of any male that interested her, taping them to little pieces of paper and jotting down what the newspaper said about them, and what she thought about them. There was a two pages and a half dedicated to Corporal Summers (who, in her mind, was what she wanted in a big brother figure. Not that she understood why, but he just seemed like he would have been someone she would want as a big brother in another time, another place). The one with the wings garnered the larger page count - a whole four pages (six if you counted the text she had merticulously copied from when he had appeared on the screen during those news briefings). The wings intrigued her greatly, notes littered the pages detailing her thoughts on whether the wings were real or fake, and if they were real, how they impacted his bone structure since she knew from birds that they had to be light.
Others faired a page or less. The images of the servents - those who captured her interest - the ones that had somehow managed to be around the important mutants, were always neatly cut so the mutants were never in the photo (unless there was no way to avoid their being there). Those were the ones she wanted to help the most. The ones she knew Tony wanted to help the most. How nice when things dovetailed nicely. There was one, seen with the youngest princess - how those photos happened were a mystry to just about everyone (save the photographer) - while there was little in the terms of actual images, he got more pages in terms of what she thought (a whole seven pages of limited photos and more text then anyone else). He seemed so painfully familiar - in ways that Athena didn't understand, didn't want to understand. The fact that he seemed so familiar - scared her, intrigued her. She wasn't sure what scared her more - her not knowing why or her desire to know why. And desire was winning out.
Athena was ten when she was found by Tony Stark, sitting by the side of the road, not moving, just sitting there, watching with expressionless eyes. A pretty little thing hidden under the dirt and dust, the blood and the bruises (although, Tony never did find out who the blood belonged to for the little girl was not injured save for the bruises). Wide blue eyes stared up at him, watching him, but never saying a word, never moving from the seated position he found her in. She never said a word when he picked her up, holding her close to him as he spirited her into the vechile he had procured, taking her to his home/lab. She never moved from her seated position, and if she did, it wasn't easily.She was always so stiff when they moved her in order for her to excerise. Tony would only sigh and just tell them to continue as they were already doing. That something would break her free of whatever was keeping her in the cataleptic state, her catatonic state. (Either that or drive him to the bottle was the common refrain by some of the staff). Nor did she ever utter a single word - not a hello, not a good bye, not anyone's name. She just sat there, perfectly quiet, perfectly still - the very picture of what the old adage had been - "children should be seen, and not heard".
She was eleven when she said her first word, or rather, her first word after she left her year long bout of catatonia. It was so soft that you could barely hear it. So soft that you had to strain your hearing in order to be sure she had spoken. But she had spoken and that was only the beginning. It had been a name - "Kevin" - but there was no Kevin there and no-one was quite sure how she learned the name, but no-one really questioned her choice of first words (in fact, many were glad it was something relatively benign). The fact she spoke was more important to them then anything else. Tony soon regretted his wish that her state was broken when he discovered that even though she gave the appearence of not being able to hear them, that she had been - and that she learned several variations on the various profane words he and his team used. Especially after she gave a rather anatomical impossiblity of shoving one's head up their ass to remove the ten foot stick that was obviously causing them to be pissed off to the therapist that was helping her learn to rewalk. Tony revelled in the fact that the child he had found was intelligent, quickly picking up things from his staff, always asking the right questions (and even wording what would have been a wrong question in just such a way that she still got the answer she sought). When Athena turned twelve, Tony decided that she needed a name, that calling her "the child", "the girl", "her", and "she" were not going to help her learn who she was or discover who she had been. And since the child had no memory of life before Tony finding her at age ten (and what she did remember made no sense so she never spoke of it), there was no memory of what she was called before he had found her. A young Greek woman, her nanny of the day (who also held a degree in nanotechnology), proposed the name Athena - since she had arrived "fully" grown. Tony looked down at the young girl and asked her what she thought. The newly christened Athena was silent for a moment, pondering for a while before giving a firm nod. "Yes," she whispered. Athena was the only name given the twelve year old - and most believed no other name was needed. Athena silently agreed with them - Athena was short and easy to remember.
Barely thirteen years old, Athena found herself once more catatonic - only this time, it was self-induced, and didn't last nearly as long. But it was a long, frightening six months for Tony, Athena and the rest of the team. Most thirteen year olds don't move things with their minds, don't read other people's minds, don't move through a wall like it was nothing. Athena mentally shut down when she started to hear the voices, it was her only defense against the swarm. Thirteen years and seven months old, Tony awarded Athena with a soft blue headband. He slipped it on her head and waited. Blue eyes fluttered to life and she smiled up at Tony, a faint "Thank you" escaping her lips. Now the voices were quiet and Athena was able to interact with people again. Ages fourteen and fifteen blurred together, Athena barely remembering those milestones as her days were now spent training to help those who had helped her. But, in the farthest recesses of her mind, Athena could feel herself growing bitter at being treated like she was nothing more then a weapon, a tool now. But she never said a word about it - never protested. Because, if not for them, she'd still be there on the side of the road, either that or dead. So she owed them, and doing as they wished was the only thing she craved (for now at least).
Of course, things went interesting when she turned sixteen (and most people began to wonder if Tony was dying his hair at this point, that or he was getting real good at hiding how drunk he was). It was at this age, the tender age of sixteen, that Athena discovered that there were such things as boys. It was by large something that was rather harmless - but it served to remind the staff that she wasn't a little girl anymore. Athena would pour over the magazines and newspapers they would retrieve, her eyes focusing on the photos that accompanied the articles. She would clip out photos of any male that interested her, taping them to little pieces of paper and jotting down what the newspaper said about them, and what she thought about them. There was a two pages and a half dedicated to Corporal Summers (who, in her mind, was what she wanted in a big brother figure. Not that she understood why, but he just seemed like he would have been someone she would want as a big brother in another time, another place). The one with the wings garnered the larger page count - a whole four pages (six if you counted the text she had merticulously copied from when he had appeared on the screen during those news briefings). The wings intrigued her greatly, notes littered the pages detailing her thoughts on whether the wings were real or fake, and if they were real, how they impacted his bone structure since she knew from birds that they had to be light.
Others faired a page or less. The images of the servents - those who captured her interest - the ones that had somehow managed to be around the important mutants, were always neatly cut so the mutants were never in the photo (unless there was no way to avoid their being there). Those were the ones she wanted to help the most. The ones she knew Tony wanted to help the most. How nice when things dovetailed nicely. There was one, seen with the youngest princess - how those photos happened were a mystry to just about everyone (save the photographer) - while there was little in the terms of actual images, he got more pages in terms of what she thought (a whole seven pages of limited photos and more text then anyone else). He seemed so painfully familiar - in ways that Athena didn't understand, didn't want to understand. The fact that he seemed so familiar - scared her, intrigued her. She wasn't sure what scared her more - her not knowing why or her desire to know why. And desire was winning out.
