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Description
Heather Caprici, daughter of Laia Caprici, now the newest member of the Tears. Here's her story, and the second chapter of the Black Tear Army story.

Heather and Laia Caprici ----->
Jane Lively -------------------->
Skull, Jazzie Colton --------------------------->

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Like so many others in the beginning, Heather Caprici had been lost. She had nothing. She had nowhere to go, and no one to turn to. Her mother in the Darkworld was dead, and her father here on Earth had no memory of her. All of her friends did not understand her, and would probably have turned on her sooner or later, everyone she knew usually did.

Heather was well and truly alone.

After wandering aimlessly for days on end, she came to a stop, near death from dehydration and exposure, and too angry and depressed to even notice the Black Tears falling from her own eyes. The first words she heard from another living soul finally snapped her out of her fugue, and she realized not only where she was, but what had happened to her.

“Welcome to San Francisco.”

Those words haunted Heather instantly, like an inmate on their first day of prison. Worse, even. Heather had spent most of the month she had been on Earth fighting against the most powerful of the Tears, only to become one herself in the end. Feelings of irony and failure consumed her, and as the Tears continued to fall, her mind drowned in the thoughts that the black liquid spawned.

“Everyone was right. I can’t be counted on. I’m too much like my mother. I’m a loose cannon. I’m a bipolar delinquent with her fingers stroking a nuclear arsenal. Anyone with an ounce of brains would put a bullet in my head. I deserve to be here.”

Heather’s descent into despair was once again interrupted by the one who welcomed her. There stood the leader of the Black Tear Army, Skull. He knelt down to her level to look her in the eye, and gently placed a hand under Heather’s chin.

“I know,” Skull consoled, “it really sucks when it first hits. I wish I could tell you that you get used to it. Truth is that it’s like having a needle stuck in your arm twenty four hours a day. You can ignore the pain for a little while, but it never really goes away.”

Skull then wrapped his arm under Heather’s shoulders to help her to her feet, and then turned to face the city.

“I’ll tell you the same thing I tell everyone else when they first come here.” Skull explained, “No one chooses this life. I just look after the ones who fall into it. You aren’t a prisoner here. You leave anytime … if you think you have the strength to.”

Heather wiped the sleeve of her jacket across her face, and then opened her eyes to look across the Golden Gate Bridge towards the dreary mausoleum that was now San Francisco. Admittedly, she had little choice anymore, despite what Skull had just told her. Where would she go? Who would she turn to? Everyone the way she came would view her as a threat, especially now that she was afflicted with the Black Tears. The only place she would find respite, even for a little while was here. This was something that Heather would have to sort out on her own, until she did indeed find the strength to escape this hideous fate. The again, who was there to talk to here? Most of the leaders already knew her as an enemy, and the rest weren’t anyone she would know at all, except …

... her mission.

Even now, Heather still had a mission and a photograph. To find her mother's two surviving friends. As a reminder, she carried a photo of the three of them taken from a Sirens magazine photo shoot twenty five years earlier. On the right was her mother, Laia Caprici, the toughest woman in the Capone mob. In the center was Jazzie Colton, a soldier and world champion prize fighter. Heather had already found Jazzie shortly after arriving on Earth. Despite being terminally ill, she was still tough as ever, and leading her people against the various threats to the world. Heather had left Jazzie without any explanation when she came walking here, and there was probably a good possibility that Jazzie would be coming to look for her. But Heather couldn't worry about that now. The third girl in the picture, the one on the left, her mother's last surviving friend, was here in San Francisco, and Heather had to reach out to her.

Heather turned to Skull slowly, still sniffling a little. “Take me to Jane Lively.”

Description
Heather Caprici, daughter of Laia Caprici, now the newest member of the Tears. Here's her story, and the second chapter of the Black Tear Army story.

Heather and Laia Caprici ----->
Jane Lively -------------------->
Skull, Jazzie Colton --------------------------->

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Like so many others in the beginning, Heather Caprici had been lost. She had nothing. She had nowhere to go, and no one to turn to. Her mother in the Darkworld was dead, and her father here on Earth had no memory of her. All of her friends did not understand her, and would probably have turned on her sooner or later, everyone she knew usually did.

Heather was well and truly alone.

After wandering aimlessly for days on end, she came to a stop, near death from dehydration and exposure, and too angry and depressed to even notice the Black Tears falling from her own eyes. The first words she heard from another living soul finally snapped her out of her fugue, and she realized not only where she was, but what had happened to her.

“Welcome to San Francisco.”

Those words haunted Heather instantly, like an inmate on their first day of prison. Worse, even. Heather had spent most of the month she had been on Earth fighting against the most powerful of the Tears, only to become one herself in the end. Feelings of irony and failure consumed her, and as the Tears continued to fall, her mind drowned in the thoughts that the black liquid spawned.

“Everyone was right. I can’t be counted on. I’m too much like my mother. I’m a loose cannon. I’m a bipolar delinquent with her fingers stroking a nuclear arsenal. Anyone with an ounce of brains would put a bullet in my head. I deserve to be here.”

Heather’s descent into despair was once again interrupted by the one who welcomed her. There stood the leader of the Black Tear Army, Skull. He knelt down to her level to look her in the eye, and gently placed a hand under Heather’s chin.

“I know,” Skull consoled, “it really sucks when it first hits. I wish I could tell you that you get used to it. Truth is that it’s like having a needle stuck in your arm twenty four hours a day. You can ignore the pain for a little while, but it never really goes away.”

Skull then wrapped his arm under Heather’s shoulders to help her to her feet, and then turned to face the city.

“I’ll tell you the same thing I tell everyone else when they first come here.” Skull explained, “No one chooses this life. I just look after the ones who fall into it. You aren’t a prisoner here. You leave anytime … if you think you have the strength to.”

Heather wiped the sleeve of her jacket across her face, and then opened her eyes to look across the Golden Gate Bridge towards the dreary mausoleum that was now San Francisco. Admittedly, she had little choice anymore, despite what Skull had just told her. Where would she go? Who would she turn to? Everyone the way she came would view her as a threat, especially now that she was afflicted with the Black Tears. The only place she would find respite, even for a little while was here. This was something that Heather would have to sort out on her own, until she did indeed find the strength to escape this hideous fate. The again, who was there to talk to here? Most of the leaders already knew her as an enemy, and the rest weren’t anyone she would know at all, except …

... her mission.

Even now, Heather still had a mission and a photograph. To find her mother's two surviving friends. As a reminder, she carried a photo of the three of them taken from a Sirens magazine photo shoot twenty five years earlier. On the right was her mother, Laia Caprici, the toughest woman in the Capone mob. In the center was Jazzie Colton, a soldier and world champion prize fighter. Heather had already found Jazzie shortly after arriving on Earth. Despite being terminally ill, she was still tough as ever, and leading her people against the various threats to the world. Heather had left Jazzie without any explanation when she came walking here, and there was probably a good possibility that Jazzie would be coming to look for her. But Heather couldn't worry about that now. The third girl in the picture, the one on the left, her mother's last surviving friend, was here in San Francisco, and Heather had to reach out to her.

Heather turned to Skull slowly, still sniffling a little. “Take me to Jane Lively.”