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[Tanzanite, Nova, Obsidian, Thuban, Nemesis, Parker, Simon, Franz/Thessally]

Posting Order: Tanzanite -> Nova -> Nemesis -> Obsidian -> Thuban -> Students (Post when needed or when reacting to the insanity that is this RP)

Some people hated the rain.

It was a fact which Tanzanite found difficult to believe as she turned her face skywards, eyes closed against the onslaught of tiny, frigid droplets. Her palms turned upward, she let the water wash away the grime and dirt from her fingertips, sweeping it into the gutters with the rest of humanity's filth. Around her, men and women bustled by; hats pulled down, hoods pulled up, bumping her shoulder as they made their way through their mundane and boring lives. Eager to get out of the rain. Back to work. Back to the kids. Back to their everyday, in and out routines.

Rats, scampering in a cage of their own construction.

How very...pathetic.

Tanzanite sighed her displeasure, opening her eyes to a starless evening sky. The pinpricks of light were choked out by the bright, trashy haze of city lights. The clouds stared back with an angry orange glow, roiling thunder that drowned out the din of the city for one brief, blissful moment. It could not last, for the pule of that place was just too strong to be snuffed out so easily. The engines revved, the people laughed, and after that half second of deafening thunder, the city pressed in around Tanzanite once more.

Destiny City.

Loud, busy, and crowded with the best and worst of humankind... and apparently so much more.

The news reports had been relentless in their warnings, cautioning people away from the streets after dark. Stay in your homes, they said. Lock your doors, they said. What they did not say is what they truly meant; go about your lives. Never ask why or where or how. Never seek out what is different, what is special. You might find a way out of the mundane, you might find a way to escape the advertisements, the hybrid cars, and the fashion magazines. You might find out that there is so much more to life than losing those last ten pounds, finishing that Chemistry paper, or writing that novel you'd always hoped to finish. You might find it, or you might die trying.

Never go in search of the rabbit hole, they said, because the dangers of Wonderland just might kill you.

Unfortunately, Parker Colvin Damhnait didn't listen, and now the Mad Hatter and the Cheshire ******** Cat were prodding his unlucky a** across the crosswalk. The flashing red palm illuminated Tanzanite's wicked smile as she steered the boy away from the main thoroughfare and towards the city park. Well.. dragged was a better word. With her jumper cables wrapped securely around the boy's neck, Tanzanite tugged him along, parading him through the busy streets between the subway and the park. After all, two scantily clad women and a captive high schooler warranted a great deal of attention, and attention was exactly what Tanzanite wanted.

Let them see.

Let them question.

Let each and every <********> one of them know that, in time, they would be the ones on the end of that leash. Each and every one would suffer in turn, by her hand or by that of her kind. The sideways glances and startled stares were met with a cold glare and a wicked grin. Let them whisper, and let the harlot Senshi hear it. Let them come running. Let them see what she could do, what Nova could do. The thrill of anticipation to see the corrupted senshi in action, to see the power the Negaverse could control, was almost intoxicating.

It was with a hard shove that Tanzanite would finally deposit Parker to the ground in the center of the park, coiling the cables around one fist.

“Now, precious,” the woman all but purred the nickname, “I'm going to give you one chance to scream. And I want it to be convincing. I want to hear you scream like you're having your guts ripped out through your throat. Do you understand?”

( Yep, my deliciously long and angsty post was just lost by the epic fail that is the work computer. Want to die. Forcing myself to try to retype it instead. Siiiiiiiiiigh. )



Well, today was certainly turning out to be terrible.

It was a Saturday, which usually meant some semblance of freedom for the boys of Hillworth Grammar School. People went to movies. People went on dates. People went to dinner. Unless, of course, you were Parker Colvin Damhnait. If you were Parker, then you spent the morning scooping dead rats of the gutters, the afternoon scouring the mysterious brown stains off the boy's bathroom floor, and the evening taking the subway across town to work on the computer of a fat old man who paid you half in cash and half in a sandwich. A shitty sandwich. Sigh.

And then, on your way home, you found yourself ambushed.
Ambused by not one, but two super hot chicks.
Two super hot chicks who wanted to hurt you.

It was the set-up for the kind of porno that Parker did not want to be a part of -- one that ended with him with a paper bag over his head lying dead on the shag-carpeted living room of some drug dealer's den in downtown Destiny City. Parker noted, with a tinge of annoyance, that even if it was that kind of porno, he would probably be denied the only good thing about the situation. Typical. The two scantily-clad girls had jumped out before Parker had time to react, his only saving grace a single finger separating the soft flesh of his skin from the metal twist of the jumper cables. Yep, jumper cables.

He hadn't managed to get out a sound before he was already being dragged, utterly destroying the steampunked jacket he had finished earlier that morning. His messenger bag had fallen off him several feet ago, and though his laptop was safely at home, he knew that his wallet and everything else was long gone. Not that it mattered. His back bumped hard over the edge of the curb as the purple-haired girl dragged him to the park.

So... would this be it? Was this how he would die? It seemed darkly poetic. A life of misery and loss ended in a random act of violence. Yep, it certainly fit the bill for Parker's life. He didn't believe that there was an old white guy in a beard waiting on a cloud for him. If it ended here, it was lights out, forever. If he wasn't struggling so hard to breathe, he might have laughed. In a way, Parker was perhaps one of the best equipped students to handle this kind of end. His entire life he had been preparing for his death, had long recognized that it could happen at any moment, under any circumstances. Sure, he hadn't predicted death by militant sluts, but his mind was made up just the same. This could be his death -- a march that he hoped to be long and winding could be ending that night. In the rain. In a park.

Had she just dragged him through a pile of dog s**t?

As his thoughts were reeling, mind churning out historical tales of woe to comfort the numbness in his fingertips, Parker felt another push, much harder, and then the heavy slam as his back connected with something. Had they... stopped? Parker had been surprised that the girl was able to drag all six feet of him this far. He wasn't terribly scrawny, even if he wasn't buff. Perhaps she was tired now?

Oh, right, no. She just wanted to hear him scream.

Parker lowered his eyes, rain pooling straight dark strands down his face, clinging in clumps to the hollows of his cheeks. Was this... to be it? He had no intention of going quietly; this was survival of the fittest. If anything, Parker could understand that. Still, it was two against one, and Parker was not a fast runner. And he didn't have jumper cables. When the girl came close to his face, Parker did not back away. He simply met her eyes, tracing their coldness. Scream? Right. Scream.

If this was to be the end, it hardly seemed fitting for his final words to be a scream. No, not at all. He thought of the late great lines: Oscar Wilde, Thomas Jefferson, Socrates. What could he say to match them? He tilted his chin up to the sky and let the rain push his hair back. The stars hung above him like fireflies trapped on fly paper. They were probably dead, exploded thousands of years ago. How could anyone look up at the stars and see anything but death and destruction? There was no beauty there, just another echo of loss.

Parker should have felt fear, and he did. But it was a small thing, a pebble in his shoe. If death was coming now, he could do nothing but try to fight against it. But I will lose. Facing death did nothing to make an optimist out of Parker. Pessimism had been the one constant thing in his life. Why would he abandon it now? People didn't change. People never changed. And even if these were his finals moments, neither would Parker.

On the glistening sidewalk, Parker looked over to the brown-haired girl and then back to the purple-haired girl, tongue darting out to moisten his lips. He spoke evenly, his breath coming slowly. It was as if he was simply speaking in class, or placing an order. Either way, the words were hollow, empty, devoid of meaning. "'Death either... destroys us or unmasks us. If it means liberation, better things await us when our burden is gone; if destruction, nothing at all awaits us, blessings and curses are abolished.'" It would be good to be rid of the curses of life, but if he survived, Parker doubted that all his burderns would lift away. Still, it was a good line. His chest heaved a sigh after he said it, words sounding less powerful coming from his lips. He didn't even bother to say who had spoken the words in the first place.

Death. Death. Death. Death. Death.

His head chimed a bell toll.
His heart beat slowly.

What was this he felt... disappointment or relief?

In the rain, he felt muted, like the whole of humanity was crashing down on him in waves. The line of trees at the edge of the park wavered, his head dipped, his hands trembled. Why hadn't he just died in the fire with his mother? Had these extra seven years of life actually brought him happiness? Was such a thing -- happiness -- even possible? His head meandered down philosophic courses, but no thoughts or words would change the situation. He would fight. He would lose. He would die. It seemed as tangible and real to him as the falling rain prickling his skin. And how terribly, terribly poetic. He would suffer a gruesome death at the hands of two beautiful women -- two beautiful women who would otherwise have no interest in him.

Typical.

Nova nodded at Tanzanite, her eyes scanning the park; it would be in bad taste to double team the human. Let Tanzanite enjoy him-- there would be many more starseeds where her came from.

His words did nothing but encourage Tanzanite, whose maniacal laughter at least caused some people to pause and hurry on their way. The park cleared faster than Nova had thought possible. The news reports had been telling the humans to leave at the faintest whiff of danger, and like ants, they all fled. No backbone, no anger, no fervor in any of them. Nova sighed, and knelt down next to the student, her stockinged knees on level with his eyes, though they were pinched in pain.

"I just wanted you to know," Nova's eyes were still large and purple, but tainted by the cold power; they were hard now, though wide as if she wanted to see all of his pain, "I just wanted to let you know that whatever you think of death is just ridiculous. She's going to enjoy killing you, my pal Tanzanite there. You mean nothing to us. You are merely bait."

Standing up again, Nova shifted her drenched shawl, and scowled.

"This is taking too ******** long," Nova raised one hand to the sky and yelled. The words were intangible, but the meaning clear. Lets ******** s**t up. The ground around her erupted, tremors lacing through the city, a perfect star etched in the ground. The whole park reeked of Nega energy now.

"Lets just see the scouts try to stay away now." Nova said smugly.

Oh god, what bitches.

The laughter did nothing to instill fear in Parker. He saw the look in her eyes; he knew that she was twisted. It was unfortunate that he was the target of her anger. It was unfortunate that he was here at all. Unfortunate was something Parker was just used to in life.

Pale eyes stayed focused on Tanzanite, even as Nova spoke. It was evident that the purple-haired girl was the most imminent threat -- no matter how terrifying the little display of magic was. "Nothing makes your attitude toward death more valid than mine," he choked out, grimacing as Tanzanite wrenched him down to the sidewalk. Under other circumstances, he might have enjoyed the upskirt view, but as she began to press her heel in, Parker made his move.

Both hands flashed forward, clamping on her ankle and yanking it to one side to set her off balance. He rolled in the opposite direction, hoping to make it out of there. Man, what he wouldn't give for the chaos theory to benefit him for once in his miserable life.

She could taste it thick on her tongue, the dark energy, bitter in taste and hard to swallow. It made the hair on her arms stand up, and made her want to reel her bike in the opposite direction to escape the source of power. Nemesis did not want to deal with this, not on her three-day weekend. She could fight all the most powerful evil in the world if it wasn't on her goddamn weekend. The whole ******** ground shook for a few solid moments as the power radiated through the city. It was a warning sign and an invitation in one. 'Come, play with us if you can.' Anyone sensible would take it as a warning and do what Nemesis wanted to do, run away.

Curiosity, or perhaps the promise of a good fight, made her abandon her bike against the side of a building. Nemesis ducked into an alleyway and transformed. She would at least go investigate... but ********, this was one of those times she sorely wished she didn't have to do these things on her own. It was intimidating, and she wanted to have someone she could throw out in front of her as a distraction if she needed to run away. For a few moments she paused, leaning back against an old building, the back of her skull touching the cold stone. Did she really want to do this?

Eh... she was stuck between running away and run headfirst into the thick of whatever the ******** was going on.

In the end, she did what was right, which was odd for her, but she didn't give a flying ******** at the moment. The sailor senshi followed that taste of dark power, and the closer she got to its source, the thicker, more potent it became. It was out of her league... and yet she didn't turn tail and run. Usually Nemesis was smarter than this.

Then Nemesis saw them. Two women who were quite possibly dressed more scantily than she was, and two boys... It was like some sick form of sexual roleplay, or it would be, except the energy was coming from them, and those boys looked downright like they were both going to s**t their pants any moment now.

At Tanzanite's challenge she cursed softly to herself. Sadly Nemesis wasn't the type to watch other people die, not when they hadn't pissed her off, at least. Screwing her eyes shut, she sucked in a short breath before she slowly began to approach the scene. The tattered ruffles of her underskirt swished around her thighs, her expression that of displeasure, though the only evidence of that was the soft downturn of her lips.

Right, this wasn't her normal form of attack. Nemesis was... exerting caution, approaching them, but at a slow enough rate that she still kept her distance. The one with the purple hair didn't seem to be the stronger one... no, it was the one with the brown hair, and as she focused her attention on Nova she downright stopped in her tracks. "What kind of sick ******** joke is this?" She addressed to Nova, because that was a senshi, a GODDAMNED senshi... or had been a senshi. Whatever that girl was now, it did not stand for good.

This had to be planned. He'd met plenty of dumb bitches in his life, and, unless they'd been instructed to pull some crazy s**t, Charonite was gonna have some new heads to decorate his mantle with. The city itself had trembled, almost drowning out the shouted, clearly feminine cry, and Obsidian was quickly on the move towards the source of the chaos, impatiently taking to the roofs when throngs of terrified people threatened to impede his progress from the ground.

"Whatever he paid you, I'll double it."

The man would note smoothly from his rooftop perch, leering a little at the boys the two, scantily clad women seemed to be intent on keeping within their clutches. He recognized the one immediately as his trophy prize, tilting his head rather thoughtfully--even as the one boy dumped bondage-gal rightly on her a** and took off. Obsidian reacted without thinking, and had leapt from the roof to bring him down hard. Fingers fisting themselves in the boy's hair, he bodily dragged Parker back to the rest. "S'matter, kid? Pretty lady has you by the balls and you're gonna run?" Obsidian tutted loudly, wrapping an arm around the other's neck in a sort of headlock as though to better convince him that staying > a broken neck. That was about the time a certain, skull-clad senshi made her grand appearance, and his eyes swept over her dismissively before he turned his back on her.

"So? What? Lesbian party where you take out your frustrations on all the wee men that ever abused you in your lives?" No, really, he was curious, swaying back and forth as though dancing to see if he couldn't get Parker's heels to drag a little.

It was very unfortunate that, at this present Saturday, Franz St. Germaine had also been out -- not on a movie or on a date (well, as far as the other person would like to know -- Franz counted every second spent over at Janice Fitzpatrick's house as a timeless, eternal moment, logged forever in the computer archive of his heart). He was walking back from her neighbourhood, apparently into the unfortunate vortex of Hillworth Boys Who Have Wandered Into Hell.

And he saw Simon, with wide, glassy eyes, walking towards his doom --

And he noticed Parker, too, on the ground --

And Franz rustled through his satchel, grabbing out a can, dropping the bag and sprinting as far as he could go to throw himself in front of Simon like "The Bodyguard". You could nearly hear Whitney Houston sing. Nobody screwed around with his boys. Nobody screwed around with the Polecats. Nobody.

"I AM LEGALLY OBLIGATED TO LET YOU KNOW THAT THIS IS MACE," he bellowed, echoing off the buildings, his aim wobbling between Nova and Tanzanite. "I RESPECT YOU AS WOMEN" (sorry, Obsidian) "BUT EQUALITY AND THAT SAME RESPECT WILL MAKE ME MACE YOU! DO NOT MAKE ME MACE YOU, THIS IS MACE -- Ferris run."

Franz was a moron. A moron about to get the s**t kicked out of him.

Every family had a black sheep; the annoying, loud mouthed ********. He was that distant cousin that always brought home some drunken floozy for the holidays and farted during Thanksgiving grace. That one who you denied Friend Requests on Facebook and, when forced to explain at the yearly family reunion, said that you just “never check it”. Even though you spend every waking hour posting meaningless status updates about your cat and sending obnoxious Farmville requests to all of your friends and family. Even though you signed that petition to get rid of the new Live Feed feature and are a member of the “I'm Addicted to Coffee” group. Even though you spend every Sunday morning going through and deleting drunken pictures from Saturday night so that your mother won't see you doing a kegstand while dressed as a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle. Still, you can't bring yourself to click 'Accept' when that black sheep's Myspace Emo Kid picture pops up in your friend requests.

Tanzanite, Nega-newbie though she may be, could clearly see that the red-headed man in an outfit that absolutely screamed 'Yar, I'm a Negaverse Pirate' was that member of their twisted little family the second he opened his mouth. If there was a 'Deny' button anywhere within her reach, it would have been clicked. Sorry Obby, no Farmville requests for you.

She regarded him for only a moment as he stood upon the rooftop, her smile dropping to a placid, expressionless mask. As much as Nova might desire his attention, Tanzanite didn't give a flying ******** about it. Fetching Parker brought him a step closer to being of interest, but as soon as he opened that ******** mouth of his it was as though he'd been violently shoved ten steps backwards. With every word, he was running a backwards marathon, tumbling down into the wide and nearly all-inclusive abyss that was the large crowd of people that Tanzanite considered useless wastes of oxygen. It took only a moment for her to dismiss him as idiot. Nevertheless, he was an idiot who was on their side.

“Shouldn't he be screaming for mercy?” She said flatly, before turning her attention to the corrupted Senshi and their newest guest. Tanzanite made no move to follow Nova; this was the corrupted Senshi's show. Tanzanite was simply here to keep the woman in check and see what that eight-cylinder engine of raw Negaverse energy could do. However, she did allow a small smile to cross her lips as she spoke.

“Choose your words carefully, Senshi. They may very well be your last.”

That said, she returned focus to the approaching schoolboy. Or what had been the approaching schoolboy. Her expression did not convey her disappointment in the fact that her newfound pet had been stopped by some overly heroic high school boy with a can of glorified pepper spray. Nor did it express her distaste at the idea of being ******** maced. Body tense, ready to spring out of the way if the boy's finger so much as twitched, Tanzanite uncoiled the cable from around her fist.

“Pet, mace is for homeless people and petty thieves. Only thing I'm interested in stealing is your ******** life.”

With that, she launched herself into the air, vanishing into the darkness above. It was one of those Negaverse perks, jumping like Michael Jordan on some serious ******** crack (she had spent the past few days jumping around like some cracked out five year old on a city-sized trampoline upon finding out that nice little perk.) She would descend just beside the interfering child, her head turned away in case he was that quick. Allowing the momentum to carry her into a low crouch, she swung the cable hard at the boys ankles. With any luck it would wrap around, and one hard yank would pull his feet out from under him.