Sooth Say You? [Edward]

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At the top of the old light house, above the light, there was a small, but livable chamber with a balcony that wrapped around it.  The rick to getting up to it was doing it in enough time to avoid the blinding light, at least at night.  During the day it did not need to be operated.  It had been Stormy herself who repaired and restored it.

She could stay at her father's home, yes, but she had yet to find him and it felt strange to be there and not know whether he was dead or alive.  And given her recent interests, this spot had just become more appropriate.  It was above and out of all the noise of the city.  It was quiet, the only sounds that could be heard were that of the surf crashing into rocky cliffs below.  It was a welcome sound to her ears.

During her time returned from her former fate, the rumor of an indestructible girl spread around town under the radar.  The police, at this point, knew who she was and what she was capable of, however in short time she had only become more capable.  She kept little contact with them, but she was also just laying low in general.

Someone, a stranger, came to her recently, wanting to meet with her.  Apparently someone was in need of her help and managed to seek her out.  She was surprised they found her, but they did.  She agreed to help and set a time to meet them as well as a location.  She simply invited them to her little den above the light tower.  She deemed someone who took the time to seek her out as they had deserved her full attention and it was hard to pay full attention unless she was somewhere in which her senses would not be overwhelmed.

So there she sat, int he middle of the circular room.  Panels of glass lined the room, however the room was darkened by the drapes drawn.   Her clothes were fine, as if made by something not of this world.  The room was illuminated only by a few candles throughout the room.  

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Since the incident, Edward had been searching for any and all ways to heal him. He knew, no open brain surgery or any medical operation would ever fix what that woman had done, so it left him to the more extremes. He could attempt to find another Lazurus Pit, though with Ra’s still on his tail over his last breach of his property, he highly doubt he would be alive much longer after the second dip in its fountain of youth substance. Another option, would be to persuade that horrible terrible woman to fix what she had done, but the idea of even being in a room with her made him want to physical vomit. The only thing he wanted from her was her blood dripping down her skin as she laid dead like a log on the floor. It left him with only one other option, which was finding another metahuman to turn him back.

Luthor had quite the collection of such talent. Edward could break into one of Luthor’s secret facility, get through the security system, and then finally when he reached one of them, he would have to convince them to fix the illness. It all was within the realm of possibility. He had already begun strategizing on how to get into one of the facilities, but then he heard rumors of a metahuman right here in Gotham who had immense power.

Now, Edward was never a man to take the easy way out, nor one quick to believe rumors. He would have dismissed it, if Deidre wouldn’t have spent the past week, pleading and begging him to give it a try. She had a contact that could get a message to the meta. He finally gave in, if only to just to stop hearing her whining.

So as Edward climbed these stairs in the dead heat of summer, he didn’t look pleased. He suit was drenched with his own sweat, and each step only made him fully aware of the unbearable humidity. He shouldn’t have worn a three piece suit. His leg no longer felt the sharp pain it used too, but he had grown tired of staircases. It reminded him of a time when they were his most difficult challenges, but he climbed up none the less with the auburn hair girl behind him, whistling a tune and complaining about her heels. “My ankles going to break on this rickety wood,” she quipped. If Edward had his voice, he would have silenced her ten minutes ago. He hopped this rumor turned out to be a possibility because if it wasn’t, he would be throwing Deidre off this light house and into the waves. Let Davey Jones handle her.

He let out a deep breath when they finally reached the top of the staircase, and he made his way onto the flat area. He saw the woman sitting in the middle of the room, and his first thought was gypsy.

Deidre had brought him to a god damn gypsy. If the woman started reading his palm, Edward would throw a fit even without his voice. His fingers moved across his mechanic voice machine. “Hello, I can only assume you are the woman I have heard about because no one else in their right mind would choose this inconvenient meeting place,” the machine spoke for him as he typed in the numbers.

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Stormy could hear them coming up long before they made it to the top. That was another advantage. She could isolate things, including intruders or guests. She stood when they came into the room. She looked at them quietly. There was a plush rug that she had been sitting on. She beckoned Edward to be seated on it while she beckoned his companion to sit on a chair in another part of the room.

Once he was close enough she looked up to him. Her green eyes suddenly filled with bright green light. She watched him for a long moment like that. Eventually the light dimmed in her eyes. She closed them and they returned to normal. She gave him a nod.

"I am. Sit."

She sat before him and reached a hand to his chest. She kept it there and looked at him.

"Ah, there it is. I hope I can help you."

She had a few things near her. She reached to a knife and flipped it in the air before catching it thrusting it down, into her hand. She only grit her teeth in response to the pain. Once she pulled the knife out she set the blade back and grabbed a small vile that had been beside it. She put the vile to her fresh wound and began to collect blood from it. She looked back to him while the blood took its time to spill into the vile.

"I have heard of you, before. I am told you are a man who values his words."

Stormy remained silent for a moment as the vile continued to fill. Once it was about half way there she looked to him and her eyes began to shift to purple, lighting up dimly.

"I choose this place because I have heightened senses. While that sounds like it might be something very useful, it can cause me great pain. I am overwhelmed when I am down in the city below. In my ears the sounds of it are amplified, the smell is a hundred times more pungent than it is to you."

Finally the vile was filled. She stood again and walked off. She turned on a small light and held her hand under it. The wound melted away. She returned to him at the center of the room and tapped the vile.

She picked the knife back up, not bothering to clean the blade. She attached the vile to it. There was a small vein in the middle of the knife so that when she attached the vile to it the blood would flow down the vein to the point. She beckoned him to lie down and remove his shirt and jacket.

"This will hurt, but if you want your voice back, you must be willing to die for it, Mr. Nygma. Are you ready?"

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He really wasn’t fond of gypsies, far too dirty and no ambition. They were quite similar to hippies, except they always had to believe in the paranormal, not that this woman actually was a gypsy, she just looked like one. Dishevel hair and crazy but elegant outfit. She still was quite beautiful, though it didn’t mean she wasn’t crazy. He continued to frown until he saw her eyes glow. His own widened in shock. At least he knew for certain she was a meta.

He followed her demand and walked over to take seat in front of her. “You haven’t told me what you want for your services?” he quickly typed and the machine spoke, as he sat in front of her. Edward felt slightly out of his element. He didn’t know what her ability was or how it would be able to fix him. It made him nervous and uncomfortable, so when she touched his chest, he flinched. His eyes narrowing in suspicion, especially when she took hold of a knife.

Now, if he had his voice, he would have shouted what the fuck. Instead he grumbled something a mix of words pulling slightly away from her direction. It appeared like she was participating in some old age witch craft. He never thought he would sink so low to do something like this.

He nodded at her comment. “Very much so,” the machine spoke, his eyes staying glued to the vile.

You never realize how much you love something until it is ripped from you, and that horrible woman had ripped two precious loves from his life. He would have his revenge on her. He certainly would. He wanted to hear his fluid sentences and witty dialogue. He wanted to speak brilliantly.

She commented on their location, and he understood. Metahumans had different needs and requirements, and while Edward had no problem complaining, he wasn’t going to argue with her choice. After all, he was here, wasn’t he?

As the wound disappeared from her hand, he actually felt the briefest moment of hope. She couldn’t have tricked such an action, she definitely had special powers. Though her next demand caused him to pause. The knife was likely going to go through his chest. Fuck. Why couldn’t she just put her hand on top of his head and fix it. He jaw tightened.

He would die for his voice because a life without was not a life worth living, but some boundaries needed to be established.

“I’ll lie down, but I need to know what you want for this service. I like to have an understanding of what I am walking into,” he stated, before his hand paused on his next concern. He didn’t particularly like to share his other problem because it was far too personal, and not obvious at first glance. His hand slowly began typing again, “She also took something else from me. She took my ability to please a woman in the physical sense. Will this be fixed as well? Or must go through a new torment for that issue?” he asked, the very idea of her possibly stabbing that knife in his most precious parts, made him inwardly squirm.

He waited for her answers before he removed anything.

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Stormy considered his question. She lowered the knife to her side for a moment and thought about it. She hadn't thought to really ask for anything in return. She looked at him with a brow raised for a moment and finally her expression eased again.

"One day, not today, I will need use of you. If I ever find my lost father, I may need use of your voice. I may even need use of your other skills if I get close enough. For now, just remember you will owe me a favor. Nothing bigger nor smaller than what I do for you today. I assure you I would not ask for anything too far out of your grasp. I will let you know if the day ever comes."

Stormy gave a nod at his second question.

"My blood, it will heal all wounds. You will not be indestructible as I am, but I believe you will have a marked improvement in the amount of time it takes you to heal from damage. However, what takes me only minutes and seconds will still take you hours, perhaps days in some cases, though, what will take most people months will only take you weeks. So yes, this will solve that problem as well."

Stormy took position again with the knife raised and looked back down to him.

"Are you ready?"

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A favor? Great, how many of those did he owe now? He knew he still owed the Penguin a miscellaneous favor, and now here he was about to add on another. He truly hated favors, they allowed for the person to basically ask for anything, and the person was forced to drop everything they were doing to accomplish the task. It also had to be a favor that matched what she was given him, which in other words meant he would have to provide a miracle for her. Great. Just great. He couldn’t walk away from her though. This was his opportunity to get his life back. He needed it, and as she described to him that everything would be healed, including his endurance to injury, there was no possible way he could leave.

He nodded in agreement. He would provide her a favor, and he could only hope he would be able to return something to her with as much value as this had to him.

He stripped off his jacket, his vest, his tie, unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it off, as well as his undershirt. Edward dressed well even in his current state. It wasn’t as straight, but it was still a full suit. He laid them out on the floor before he laid down where she requested him too. He had a feeling this would hurt, it would hurt a lot. He glanced at Deidre who was nervously biting her nails in the corner. “Don’t interrupt, no matter what happens,” the box spoke for him.

He then turned to look up at this odd strange woman. He mouthed the words thank you. It was all he could offer at this moment.

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Stormy gave him a simple nod and plunged the knife down into his heart, but she did not run through it completely, no there was a method to this madness. She plunged the heart so she may pierce into one of it's chambers. Soon her own blood was spilling into his center, the busiest of all the body's muscles and parts.

The sensation would be painful, obviously. She watched as the blood emptied from the vile. She sped it up by applying pressure to it, her dark, nearly purple blood made its way into his heart and quickly began to work through the rest of his body as his heart rate would rise thanks to the lovely thing we like to call shock.

Once the last drops were deposited she pulled the knife out. The wound stayed open, and she immedietly applied pressure to it. She was remarkably strong for her size, in fact, that was also one of her little powers.

"LIGHT OF DAY COME AS YOU MAY, PRESS ONTO HIM AND DO NOT DIM!"

A blinding white light, that seemingly appeared from nowhere at her command, focused into a tight beam over Edward's heart. She removed her hand and soon his wound began to close up more quickly than it should of, another painful process, but soon he would fill renewed, refreshed, by far the fittest and healthiest he had ever felt in his life. Once the wound was closed she commanded the light to do something else. The beam widened and struck his entire body as well as her own.

She rose to her feet and offered her hand down to him to help him up, the world around them was nothing but white light, yet it did not blind or bother either of them. When he stood she did the same as before, she placed her hand on his chest, closed her eyes, and they opened again, purple light coming from them.

"Edward Nygma, what have you to say now?"

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He had suspected it to happen. There was no other reason for there to be a knife and for him to lie down unless it happened. He knew it was going to happen. He was positive. But no amount of thought or planning can prepare a man to be stabbed fully conscious in the chest and into his heart.

He screamed. He screamed loudly. He had felt pain in his life, broken far too many bones to count, felt the pain of the pit, the pain of his leg. This was entirely different and flooded all of his senses. His body clenched in pain. His mind fogged over, everything starting to turn to black and flicker. It hurt. It hurt so badly. Why had agreed to this? He couldn’t even remember.

His heart pounded rapidly in his chest. He felt flush with heat, his fingers twitching, his mind going blank. He could feel his own blood slipping down his chest and into the floor around them. Make it stop! Make it stop! He growled, his mind starting to numb the pain, he felt on the verge of losing consciousness, but then he felt pressure on his chest.

He was blinded by light. Was this what heaven was like? He never considered himself religious, but he suspected if something were to occur, this would be the process…only….it was another sharp burst of pain threading over his skin. He shouted in pain again. It was overwhelming, but like a fire, it started to dwindle and fill with a softer touch instead.

His breathing heavy, but the feeling was continuing. He could feel it spread through his form and the pain finally ceased to something new. He felt an energy come to him. It was the similar feeling he had after the pit, everything looked clearer, more focus than before, as if he had just put on glasses he had never realized he needed.

The light expanded over his form. Was this god? Or an angel? He looked up and saw the woman with purple eyes. Had he died? He took her extended hand and slowly stood. He felt safe in this ray of light, safe with her. His heart still pounded in his chest, his breathing was still heavy, but his only focus on this creature that had been sent to him.

“You’re beautiful,” he said aloud. His eyes widened as he spoke, and a full fledge grinned appeared as if he finally remembered why he was here, and how…it had worked! It had worked.

He laughed. “You did it! Oh my god, you did it!” he said thrilled. His voice. He had his beautiful, wonderful, only his voice back, and he spoke the words clearly. It was amazing. He had thought hope was lost, and here it had been handed back to him by this amazing great spectacular woman. He couldn’t stop himself, his hand dipped into her hair, and he pulled her into a deep kiss.

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Stormy's heightened reflexes failed and betrayed her, but had they really? She was not ever caught off guard, but here she was being caught off guard, pulled into a kiss she would have never expected. She did have to admit, his voice was radiant, more so than she could have imagined. It was pleasing to ears as sensitive and keen as hers.

She was unsure of what to do, at least consciously, she returned the kiss before she even realized what was going on. It had been the first time she had felt lips upon her own since she rose after her forty days of toil under the rubble that once was the home she had never asked for.

Stormy was a bit enraptured, she had never felt anything so pleasing before in her life. Her hands, absent mindedly, went to his shoulders, gripping them firmly, but not so much that it would hurt him. She has tasted the fruit that tempts and she wanted more, pressing into him even more than before. After the kiss finally broke she stepped back, her expression one of quiet amazement. When she opened her eyes again they were so deeply purple they were like black lights.

"I do not believe you will owe me any favors, that was favor enough, Edward."

She did not blush, nor was she embarrassed, just quite surprised.

"That is something I have not done in so very long. A prick of needle feels like a knife to my skin, thus it makes perfect sense that the sensation such as that is only amplified as well."

Finally a little blood did flush at the edges of her cheeks. She did her best to quell it.

"Your voice is restored, as for the other concern, I believe you will be pleased. If you are not, let me know, I am sure I have something up my sleeve for that as well..."

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Edward felt like a small child on Christmas morning, filled with immense joy and happiness. It had been a complete wild card. He had never actually thought everything would work out. There had been no plan or plot or breaking and entering. He had appeared and she helped him. He had never felt such a kind hand in his direction in his entire life. It was eye opening, and it filled it with such happiness. God, he was fucking happy.

His hand dipped further into her locks as he molded in her lips, his other hand capturing her cheek, her soft fine cheek. This angel had come from above and saved him, saved his hell driven life. He finally realized that he had just taken control of her mouth and broke the kiss, still grinning ear to ear. He barely even knew this woman. He probably had scared her.

He looked over her. She seemed a bit flushed even though her features stayed serious. When she said that he didn’t owe her a favor, his eyes actually widened in surprise. He had kissed quite a few people, but no one had ever compared it to the favor of saving one’s life. As she explained, he nodded. “You were pretty good yourself, dear,” he smirked, liking the color that came to her face.

“Thank you again,” he said seriously though, before bending down for his jacket pocket to pull out a card. “I know you said I do not owe you any favors, but please….if you need anything from me, don’t hesitate to call. You are a guardian angel, dear,” he said, holding out the card with his personal information on it. Not many people ever received a card like this from him. He locked his eyes with hers before he chuckled and shook his head, “I still am in disbelief. I feel as if I might wake up and the nightmare will return.”

He went to her and hugged her tightly. “Thank you, thank you so much.”

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She finally offered a smile again and her eyes seemed to return to a dim glow.

"I would like to hope so."

She took the card from him, feeling every little detail of it in the instant it came in contact with her hand. She looked it over and tucked it away into a pocket somewhere on her person.

"Thank you, I will not hesitate at all if the need comes up, Mr. Nygma. I am happy to see and hear your own joy."

She could predict his hug and she did, but she did not resist it. That also felt nice as well. She returned it a bit awkwardly, but still it was sincere. Once he released her again she said something and the light faded away slowly, the room around them coming back into view. She said another command and drapes drawn around the room and retracted revealing a more than spectacular view on one side and of the ocean out beyond on the other. She watched the water for a moment before turning to watch over the city. She did finally turn her head to him again momentarily.

"If you do not mind my inquiry, I would like to know how you lost your voice and your virility?"

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The light came down around them, and his world hit back into reality. The cloaks fell down, and he was filled with the gorgeous view of the ocean. Everything felt perfect in that moment, and while he had the ability to speak, he felt content with the silence that was created between them, as he took in the city. Deidre was in shock and awe and didn’t say a word. She had always believed in magic, and it looked like whatever she had seen convinced her of that fact.

Edward turned to her when he asked what had happened, and the joy he had been feeling flooded out of his body and was replaced by a quiet rage. “It’s quite a long story, but to put it simple, I broke a woman’s heart, and she extradited her revenge upon me. She is a metahuman, and while I was caught off guard, she paralyzed me. From there, she slowly went inside my brain and started to cut nerves to punish me. She said it was so I could learn a lesson, but all I have learned is how not to trust someone,” he said quietly, barely above a whisper. His hand had turned to a fist at her side.

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Stormy listened while looking over the city. She watched it with interest, all the glittering lights and people moving about below. She furrowed her brow at his story. He had indeed learned a lesson, though it was likely not the one the woman in question intended. That was not her concern, though. It was repaired and that was that, at least for now.

She turned her gaze to Edward once again and raised her chin a bit.

"Yet, you trusted me to run a knife into your heart. I believe the lesson to be learned from it is to choose a lover more wisely."

Stormy turned her gaze back to the city below and sighed a little.

"I do not help those whom steal what makes individuals who they are. In the case of you, your voice is what makes you who you are, or at least it is a major part of your persona. If this woman were to ever approach me I believe she would not be eligible for my assistance. Let that be a comforting thought, Mr. Nygma."

Stormy reached to the table before her and poured three glasses of what looked to be wine. She picked one up and expected Deidre and Edward to help themselves.

"I have much work to do here on these isles, though I hope we may find that our paths cross again."