The Art of Getting What You Want ((Closed))

[Renn Haven]

Part One :: Nightowl

Renn stood on top of one of the towering office buildings in Atlas Park, eyes closed, letting the wind rush around her in the early dawn light. She leaned against the signalling tower in the center of the roof for support, and savored the sensation. It was so exhilarating, being up here above it all, so high that the people down below seemed small, insignificant. She remembered the rush of the first time she scaled this building, leaping upwards and pausing only to catch her breath on one of the windowsills. It had been even windier that day than it was this morning; when she had gotten to the top, she was terrified that she was going to be swept clear off the top of the building.

And she had never in her life felt as alive as she had in that moment of terror.

So over the last week and a half, she had taken to coming up here whenever she needed some time alone to think, away from the petty criminals that flooded the streets, despite the efforts of everyone in the city. She came up here often, the nights were long and uneventful, and she couldn’t study in the library all night every day. Sometimes she even brought her school books with her; she’d sit in the lee of the stairwell and do her homework by the light of a small flashlight.

As much as she hated to admit it, she had started to like this city in the last three weeks.

Three weeks. Her eyes snapped open suddenly as that fact hit her. It didn’t seem right. She’d thrown herself into work here, studying and going on patrol like she was a real superhero, that it seemed like it had been so much longer. She reached down and fingered the bottom of her tartan skirt, still heavily starched and smelling brand new, just like the rest of her uniform. She had just picked up her uniform the day before, or was it the day before that? That’s right two days ago, after helping defeat the Clockwork king. It was amazing how quickly things changed. Three weeks ago, she had been Haven Biogenetics’ golden child, proof of the success of their more cutting edge, experimental genemod lines. She had everything a girl could want.

Then everything had fallen apart.

Her hands had started catching fire, but it didn’t burn her. It burnt others though. She cringed, remembering the poor maid at the hotel in Hamburg. She had been sent to the hospital with sever burns. Renn hadn’t meant to do it, she had been startled...

It didn’t matter. Clearly something was wrong with Renn Haven. Her metabolism, already elevated, ran wild as it attempted to keep up with the energy strain the powers were putting on her system. She dropped weight off her already slim frame faster than anyone thought was safe; she had been eating four large meals a day just to keep up. Fortunately, that seemed to have stabilized; Renn had a shuddering thought of having to eat more and more until all she did all day was eat, just to keep from starving to death.

Her father had not taken it well. James Haven had fired the scientists that had worked with her, and ordered her files sealed and placed in confidential records. Then he had dumped her here at Saint Joseph’s, abandoned her, all the while spinning tales to everyone about what had happened. To the public, and to those not in-the know who were employed at Haven Biogenetics, she had just reached a point where she could not handle the stress of constant traveling, she had wanted to go to a school so she could make friends with kids her age. Not a word was mentioned about this school being one of the prominent institutions for children with “special abilities.” To the faculty of Saint Joseph’s, he was a concerned father, worried only about the safety and well being of his daughter. He was also a generous donor, giving money to help the school with it’s mission.

Renn knew the truth though. He was embarrassed by her. And so he had abandoned her here.

She thought back to the night before, dancing at Pocket D with J. Elias. She hadn’t meant to, but she was so bitter, and so angry; she had ended up venting to him about everything. It had been strangely satisfying to see someone else getting angry about her father, it had made her feel much better to know that not everyone worshipped him.

She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out the business card that J. Elias had given her last night. The holographic imagery was subdued in the early morning light, but she could still make out the name and contact number listed on it. What was it that he had said?

Oh that’s right.

“Don’t get mad. Get even.”

She wasn't going to let Daddy forget about her. He was going to pay dearly for this.