FULL HISTORY [dakota]

[AMBER FO SHO]

Dakota was borne onto her family as a miracle child. A special Lab,
which said that they were with government officials, had offered
them a large sum of money in order to do a few tests on some of
the newer embryos to tell the parents exactly what the child was
going to look like. The family, which was struggling with money at
the moment, agreed almost instantaneously. Throughout the first
few months, tests were ran, needles injected, and progress was
watched with careful eyes. The doctors in question, of course, told
the family the basics, showed pictures, and did everything to
make the parents happy with this experiment. Something they
didn’t tell them though, was that their child was going to be born
with wings.

When the child was born, and they saw the little stubs of fuzzy
white under feathers, they were shocked, but they also were very
happy, saying that they’re child was a miracle. The White Coats
told them that they could keep the child until she was six, but
after that, because of these mysterious wing-like appendages,
they would like to experiment with her further. The parents said
they would have no part in it, but eventually, with either force or
the offer of yet another large sum of money, the parents decided
that it would be best for little Dakota, because that was what
they were to name her.

As they’re time with their daughter was rather limited, they
treated her like a Princess. She was in dance, gymnastics, and
everything else that little girls like to do. She was very polite,
hardly whined, and would be content with whatever her parents
would get her. She was very easy to please. She was top of her
class in whatever she did, and learned to talk with out that little
kid tone at five. They taught her at home and kept her from
making a lot of friends, since they knew she wouldn’t be able to
see her after that. When she was five and a half, her parents
started becoming harsh and crude. It hurt them to do this, but
they knew that they had to sever all of her good ties with them,
so she would not be of nuisance to the Doctors.

By the time Dakota turned six, she had a rather strong dislike of
her parents, in which her father had even gone as far as abusing
her to get her to not like them anymore. When the White Coats
came to pick her up, her parents called them Doctors, she went
with them rather obediently, only causing trouble when she
dropped her bags and made them slow down to help her pick
them up. Other than that, the progress was quick and Dakota sat
in the back seat, turned around to watch the ever fading scene of
the house that held many good and bad memories. It wasn’t part
of her any more.

When they arrived at the Lab, the White Coats helped her with
her stuff in a polite manner and they showed her to a small room
which was decorated with only a bed and a desk. In the corner
was a window, which they wouldn’t say but was reinforced to
prevent anybody from escaping. They dropped off her stuff here
and gave her instructions to the bathrooms and cafeterias, which
at the moment were the only other places she was allowed to go
alone.

They left her alone then, to unpack and give her room a little
decoration and change out of her pajamas. Dakota, being a rather
subtle girl, had a small mirror put on the wall, a cloth butterfly her
mother made her, and a few other random boxes. Even with the
butterfly, it looked like the room belonged to somebody over six
years old. Then she went and changed in a Power Puff Girls tee-
shirt and some jeans with an intricate flower pattern on the
bottom of the right leg, and then waited for the White Coats to
come back and show her what she was going to do.

* * *

Life sucks. Then you die. That was how Dakota’s life outlook came
as she got older. From six to ten, she had been put through
different tests and injections, several operations. She was
inserted in classes with Erasers for fighting styles, in which,
surprisingly, her dance and gymnastics classes took a big toll in.
Again, she quickly became adapted to life on the Lab’s courts. She
didn’t have many friends; she wasn’t supposed to have any. She
listened to what they said; she was left alone for the time being.
Everybody wins.

One of Dakota’s few friends was named Nathan Whitlock, a rather
interesting Eraser. She was paired with him in a lot of combat
practices, since all bird-kids were teamed up with a particular
Eraser that was created to counteract the other’s powers. Most of
their fights were called after three hours of no winner, or one of
them would graze a lucky stone and get the upper-hand. Nobody
would die in these small battles, mainly because the White Coats
could bring you back to life. The Lab also couldn’t spare any of
their specimens. Other than the few times they met beforehand,
Nathan and her didn’t converse much.

Dakota’s other friend was Cadence Jack. She was a bird-kid, perky
and talkative in nearly every hour she was awake. They got along
easily, and for a while Dakota was still innocent her. One day,
Caddie told her that the only way that they could escape, a
ridiculous idea, was to soar in one of the combats. Dakota
declined at the last moment, and in their next battles, she saw
Cadence take off to the skies. She went up, up, up… Dakota
thought she was going to make it, until a bullet pierced through
the sky. Caddie wasn’t physically dead, but the Lab coats
tweaked with her brain. All that mattered was that she wasn’t the
same Caddie, and that’s all that Dakota needed to know that she
was dead.

This was said to be the reason that Dakota was so bitter and
sarcastic. From that day on, her moves were sharper, quicker, and
her mind seemed to work a million times better. She started
getting better in fights, even taking down Nathan a few times.
She didn’t socialize, and she kept to herself. Her trips to the Labs
O.R. were limited, and so she didn’t have much going on but
working on her battle skills. It kept her mind off of everything that
had happened to her best friend. This didn’t last long, and after a
while, a dramatic twist of events had happened that would
change her outlook forever.

Now, because of her whole entire history, this next part of her
history is controversy. In recounting, she’ll probably just put in
what the White Coats told her had happened. It was normal, and
since they couldn’t just tell her flat out what really occurred, they
tried to make it seem like a beautiful thing between her and…
Him… Their story is that she was going to give birth to a child, and
I don’t need to go into details. It’s a PG13 site, so everybody
knows how babies are made. Dakota doesn’t remember the
father, but in truth, it was Nathan that had tricked her in the
story.

What really happened was that at the age of eleven, Nathan
tricked her to be in her room alone with him, something that was
forbidden. Faced with the bidding of going against the White
Coats, she quickly agreed. Nathan, working closely with the White
Coats for the time being, waited until she put down her guard
before stood from his chair in the beanbag. Dakota didn’t think
much of it, and when he leaned over, promising yet another
secret, she leant forward to hear him clearer. He brought his hand
up as if he were going to do a cupping motion to make sure the
sound went through.

Instead, the hand came down hard on Dakota’s temple,
something she hadn’t expected, and it almost instantly rigged her
unconscious. At this sound, the White Coats came in and brought
her to one of the Operation Labs, taking from her the things that
they needed in order to breed without disabling her with the fact
of carrying child. The bird-genes of Dakota transferred to the egg
they withdrew, and so when it mixed with the choice male, it
formed an egg before it would hatch. Some may wonder why a lot
of Dakota’s memories were false at this time.

The answer to this is simple. Periodically, she would be brought to
the O.R. and the White Coats would mess with her head,
replacing memories with others. They didn’t want her to be able
to tell anybody that the Lab had done anything more than the
wings. The rest they were laying on the Eraser, Nathan’s,
shoulder, so that he could carry all the blame.

When the egg had hatched, Dakota had gone through a
particularly excruciating course. A little altering and the memory of
birth came into being. The wolf in the boy had made his early
aging process quicken, but this wouldn’t actually happen until a
big problem aroused. She had named him Cameron, in a rather
pitiful attempt to be nice towards her grandfather, in which
Cameron was his middle name. She didn’t have much against her
grandpa, and so that’s how the name had come into being.

After this, they constantly used Cameron to make sure that
Dakota would go through at top speed. Motherly instincts kicked
in, and she started doing anything they’d say to make sure
Dakota would get to see Cam. This lasted for nearly two years,
when an ultimate test came amongst their thoughts to test her
stamina and willpower to the extreme. So, one day when she was
finished with her daily training, they pulled her aside and put her
at the end of a very large, maze-like feature.

Dakota, of course, went quickly through the forest, knowing the
proper turns to get out from the emotions of the Erasers following
her progress. The next part was followed by an ambush of three
Erasers that she hadn’t battled before. After a heavy fight, she
moved on to another maze-like path. Too exhausted to read the
emotions of the White Coats, her progresses was labored and
slow, and she was frequently prodded with electrical rods to go
faster. Oh, how she wished to take flight, but she couldn’t for fear
of being shot out of the sky.

When she finally came out of the courses, it had almost been
seven hours; she could hardly stand as she passed over the finish
line in a new record time. Cameron was standing at the end,
looking ever so adorable as a two year old mutant could get out.
He stayed where he was though, waiting for Dakota to come to
him as she always did. Though, at the moment, Dakota was busy
with trying to get back up from the ground where she had
collapsed from exhaustion.

The White Coats, though impressed with her scores, were upset
that she couldn’t even get up to go to her child. A quick order was
barked and an Eraser stepped forward and, briskly, shoved the
small child off the edge of the cliff that the end of the course lay
upon. Dakota cried out, but every muscle in her body was
weighing her down to the ground, and she couldn’t stand up even
the slightest. After a few minutes, she had passed out from
dehydration and fatigue.

From then on, Dakota tended to take all her anger on anybody
who passed her on her bad side. She no longer wanted anything
to do with any person and they could all very well die for all she
cared. There was nothing else she could do, no one she could
relate too, and every day her thoughts strayed to the concept of
trying to escape from this lost whole in the middle of nowhere. At
last, there would be the final straw that would tip her over the
edge of the line of escape, coming from the last person she could
expect it from.

She was resting in her room, secretly constructing a rather sharp
object with shards of mirror that she collected from the edges. It
was reinforced with metal every few centimeters, and so the
chipping masked her hands in small cuts that nobody would see
without close inspection. Dakota got the glue from one of the
White Coats’ office when she had been reprimanded for putting
an Eraser to near death in quick battle training. At the time, she
rolled her eyes, grabbing the glue as soon as his attention was
diverted.

So, for about a week now, she’d been taking pieces and gluing
them in a makeshift dagger. It would have to work. Dakota called
for other persons to come and enter her room as she had hidden
her dagger one noon, sitting at the sink washing her hands from
the small trickles of blood. She recognized the knock to belong to
Nathan, and so wasn’t worried about an ambush of any sorts.

Nathan had lounged on her beanbag, much like that one night,
and waited for Dakota to return. This was when the crack had
split. A smile, a quick grin, and he revealed that he was the Eraser
to push the tiny Cameron off the cliff, a wicked look on his face. He
looked proud of himself, and Dakota’s face instantly shadowed,
giving the exact opposite of his look. She blinked. Once… twice…

Dakota had launched herself over to the bed and pulled the
dagger out, using it as a defense as Nathan launched at her in his
own personal worry. She slashed out at him, kicking him back and
jumping out through the halls, locking the door. She looked down
the hall and took off quickly down the least occupied corridor,
quickly finding an exit. Nobody tried to stop her; they all knew
that any kid who tried to escape would be quickly taken down.

Unfortunately, none of the Guards stationed were prepared for
Dakota to break out. She was, not to sound full of herself, by far
one of the best trained ‘kids on the lot. Instead of taking too the
skies, like most of them did, she tore through the surrounding
forests at speeds that she reserved for races, using all her anger
to increase her strength to make her go faster than she ever
imagined. She heard pursuit, but never once turned around. After
about what felt like several miles, Dakota finally took to the skies,
making it out of the area with minimal damage.

For about a year, she stayed in the direct Tennessee area, doing
air tricks for special audiences for money, stealing when she had
too. Her styles of fighting changed to more of a street oriented
fashion, all of her years of training almost leaking away to be
replaced with everything she learned on the streets. Her memory
became fogged and she quickly forgot the looks and name of the
boy who had betrayed her.

Then, at the age of fourteen nearing fifteen, Dakota heard of a
Flock of bird-kids up north in the New York area. Of course, this
wasn’t street knowledge, she still raided the Lab every once in
the while for information. So, with that in mind, she left to the
New York area, while she flew around to track down this Flock
before the Erasers tracked them down. This has taken about a
year, and Dakota still has not found them. While in New York,
Dakota disappeared for a few months, the going on's of this time
are as follows:

Sometimes it takes stepping into another person's shoes to truly
understand pain. Dakota had faced many problems in her life,
looked death in the face only to be revived, but never to the
extremities that she had gone through the past eight months.
Humans. They took for granted how easy that they had it, how
life could be so carefree and happy. Sure, they faced many
problems, but most didn't have to worry about being killed every
day. And she was jealous of them. They didn't know what it was
like to have every freedom one could ever have, and then have it
ripped away. They didn't know the absolute exhilaration of flying,
but maybe that was for the better. It was hard to deal without it.

Quite a while back, Dakota went through Hell. She was flying in a
bad storm, an attempt to escape an Eraser hot on her trail, when
it happened. She had gotten a good lead on him, but instead of
slowing like she should have and taken cover, she sped up and
flew through the forest at dangerous speeds for even the best of
weather. Her wings were soaked, making the matters of flight
difficult, but she paid no mind. All she could focus on was going
faster, escaping from the torture she had so long endured. Once
she had wanted to die, to be killed in a battle and rest in peace.
Now, the wish for the sweet release of death was present in her
mind. But she knew that if she did die, they would bring her back
to life. She had to get as far away from this place as possible.

Even bird-kids are not as fast as lightning. It struck the tree not
ten feet ahead of her, sparking it into flames like kindling. The
rain, suppressed by the thick foliage, did nothing to stop its quick
combustion, and Dakota only had one choice at the speeds she
was traveling. She tucked her wings and barreled through the
fire, feeling lick at her hair, her feathers, smoldering everything
that wasn't already drenched, and catching fire to the underside
of her flight feathers. She finally came out of the heat, crying out
at the pain wrenching through her body. Only when alone would
such a sound come from her, showing truly the pain that she
could conceal at an instant. The rain couldn't put out the flames
here, and she struggled to get above and into the downpour.

Panicked as she was, she wasn't ready for the gusts of wind
when she broke free of the trees. She didn't realize how far she
had traveled from the outskirts of the storm and into its more
powerful, tornado like winds. The wind tore her wings from their
sockets like paper, a bird-like cry escaping Dakota's lips, before
she was thrown towards a large tree at frightening speeds. She
had two choices now. Hit it head on, snapping her neck and--
hopefully--killing her instantly, or rotating and using her wings to
try and lessen to blow. At this point, she wasn't ready to face
death, and she managed to get her wings in front of her as she
hit the tree at speeds nearing close to a hundred miles an hour.

How long it was before she woke up, she could not tell you, nor
where she had finally fallen in that torrent of the storm. She was
to come-to completely dry in a small clearing in the forest. Her all
so delicate flight feathers were black with soot. Dakota stood,
though it took several failed attempts before she could, but
something felt off. Her wings, usually following the path of her
shoulder blades, hung limp at her sides. That was when the pain
erupted. Her wings were shattered and burned. At that split
second, she feared that she would never fly again. She tore at
one of her pain legs, already fairly shredded, and made a sort of
bandage. Ignoring the pain, she folded her wings into the tight-
ened position on her back and tied them both into a sling...

For how long after, she could not tell. Days blended to weeks,
weeks to months... Whether months had changed to years, she
wouldn't care. Her wings remained on her back, only moving to
change the slings, and she lived amongst the humans. The bird-
kid scent must have been oppressed, because avian-hybrids nor
Erasers bothered her as she went through the streets. At one
point in time, this would have been Heaven. But without her wings
life was a dull blur. At nights she would dream of falling, but she
had nothing to stop her date with the cold concrete below. Every-
day, she put off trying to outstretch her wings. She was scared
that they were broken beyond repair, and that it would be the
end of her last fringe of sanity to lose her one grip of faith.

Now, she stood atop of a rooftop. Once, this was where she p
lanned to put her base if she ever went through with her
agreement with Jetta. It was the highest building of this portion
of the city, condemned as the "official" roof was. Her she stood,
giving the fierce war cry of a hawk. Anybody down below would
assume it was just an angry bird, but it was much more than
that. Today, she was done hiding. Maybe insanity had finally
taken its grip, but she wasn't going to let anything stop her now.
Flying was her escape once, but now it was her path. She could
not bear to sit around and do nothing anymore. It was time she
helped all that she could, or die trying. If she couldn't fly, she
would run. She would try to be the best flock leader she could be.

She carefully released her make-shift sling, letting it fall from the
roof like drifting feather. Dakota slowly flexed the tips of her flight
feathers. So far so good. Her angel white wings stretched out in
a single fluid motion, throwing a shadow over her. They didn't
hurt, but that didn't necessarily mean they set correctly. Still, she
couldn't help but let a smile cross her face. All this time without
flight, she might be able to take to the skies again. Would it be
possible, could it be true? She had no idea, but she had to try.
Her wings would be sore, but she could possibly fly once again.
And if not fly, maybe just gliding... Anything would be better than
walking and pretending to be human. She was a bird-kid, after all.

She took a deep breath then, letting herself fall forwards into the
abyss below her. The wind whistled past her ears, and her hair
whipped back. She felt her adrenaline pick up, and she smiled.
She adjusted her feather, pulling gently out of her fall. They held.
At least they had resocketed. She allowed herself one wing
stroke, and her wings obeyed easily. She had to stop herself
from crying out in exuberating. Dakota pulled her wings
forward, giving a strong stroke, and picked up speed. Any person
below would see a large bird, but any Eraser or bird-kid would
see a familiar tawny-winged figure flying again.