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 Posted: Wed Oct 20, 2010 11:52 pm
Lieutenant Proustite was running for his life-- fleeing for his safety from a chick in a skirt. Breathing a little raggedly, with his hula hoop slung around his neck and the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers, he raced up and down the streets and alleys of Destiny City as far and as fast as he could. His jaw ached where the Senshi had struck him, and the top of his lip was stained red with blood.
"Crazy b***h punches like a trucker," Proustite grumbled, and leapt over a fence. He stumbled over some trash when he landed, swore hotly under his breath, and was on his feet again and off in a desperate flash of grey and red.
He didn't need to look over his shoulder to know that she was following him. He didn't even need to be able to feel that haunting energy signature. Proustite knew, because of course she was following him. Its what he would have done.
Except, right now, he didn't really feel like getting his a** handed to him by a pair of high-heels. That wasn't a part of his job.
'Run, Jack, run.'
Proustite was a new and inexperienced agent of the Negaverse. This was his first encounter with a Senshi. He was rather embarrassingly inept.
'Think, Jack, think.'
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Posted: Thu Oct 21, 2010 3:48 pm
This chick in a skirt was about to kick his ******** a**, that much was sure.
A month of sadness had put Ares into a funk, but her battle with Chaonis had awoken the warhawk inside her. After her shoulder healed, she was out night after night, nose to the air and boots planted firmly on the ground. That night, she sensed the baby Nega from a few blocks away and plotted her surprise attack.
The hula hoop wielding child barely had time to jump away before Ares was on top of him, one fist slamming into the side of his head like a sledgehammer. But the little Nega was faster than she thought. This old school beat down quickly became a game of cat and mouse.
Ares liked that game.
She trailed behind the lieutenant with the cool calm of a serial killer in a horror movie. There was no gaining on him, but the senshi of smoke was never far behind, leaping cleanly where he stumbled, all the while keeping her breathing even and her eyes narrowed. "Stop running, little boy!" she shouted. "Turn and face your death!" Murder was on her mind, and he was merely the target.
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Posted: Thu Oct 21, 2010 8:31 pm
Stop running. Turn and face his death.
Yeah. Right. Of course. While he was it, Proustite might as well pluck out his own starseed and punt it at her face.
"Back the ******** off," his shout came out muffled around his hand, which he was using to keep blood from pouring out of his nose. Proustite's feet pounded against the pavement with more force than Jack's ever could, and he propelled himself forwards at a speed that was a trifle unsettling, but also very exciting, for such an unpracticed Nega. Sometimes he bumped into things. Once, he tripped.
But whatever Proustite lacked in grace, Jack made up for in experience.
As a civilian, he had had to run from both the cops and bigger, angry men on a number of occasions. If she was a cat, he was used to being a mouse. Jack's big mouth generally got him into this sort of trouble.
Except, he'd never been in terror of losing his life before.
He turned the corner into a very narrow alley between two buildings. Without stopping, Jack made a soft sound in the back of his throat and jumped. There was no ladder, but he had seen this trick work on video games about a thousand times. He hopped back and forth between the buildings, used his speed and his strength to scale those hard brick walls, and crashed through the glass of a third-floor window.
A woman screamed. The sound was piercing, and positively dreadful. She stood beside her kitchen sink in her bathrobe and slippers, wielding a spatula.
"Gotta run," Proustite waved her away and was off again. He burst into the hall, chest rising and falling rapidly with the efforts of his breathing, and disappeared up the stairs.
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Posted: Sun Oct 24, 2010 5:57 pm
Oh, but if he punted his starseed at her, then where was the challenge?
Straight white teeth were clenched hard in an already taut jaw. Ares loved sensing fear and recklessness in her opponents, but she had wasted enough time already playing chase. "I'll chase you until your legs fall off!" she shouted. "I've been running everyday -- have you?" The strict work out regiment had been one of the most drastic changes between Fallon pre-Ares and Fallon now. Her rapid physical improvement had been noticed by her friends and teachers, and now one of her enemies was getting the chance to appreciate it.
When the Nega disappeared up into a brick apartment building, Ares did not follow. To Proustite, it might have seemed like he had finally escaped her. He barreled through the room, but no one came diving in the window after him.
But there sure as s**t was someone waiting at the top of the stairs.
No sooner had Proustite rounded the stairs, and Sailor Ares was in the air, one leg extended in front of her. She aimed to kick him squarely in the chest to send him tumbling down the stairs. And then, he would surely die at her hands.
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Posted: Mon Oct 25, 2010 3:41 pm
Was she following him? Had he gotten away?
It was unfortunate, for Proustite, that he happened to be looking over his shoulder, hoping that she'd just given up and decided to beat the crap out of somebody else, when he rounded those stairs. The tell-tale swish of a skirt made his blood run cold, and his head snapped around just in time for his eyes to lock onto hers.
And then that high-heel was hard as steel against his chest, and he cried out with both pain and alarm when it knocked him off his feet. Proustite fell, groaning and swearing under his breath, and grappled madly with the railing. His fingers seized around something, stalling his tumble, and there was a wild look on Proustite's face.
Blood leaked from his bottom lip. It was freshly split. He licked his lip and tasted it.
'Fight, Jack, fight.'
It would seem that Proustite didn't have any other choice. Not really.
He took a deep breath and braced himself for the inevitable, prepared to trip and send Ares flying down the stairs once she'd landed.
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Posted: Mon Oct 25, 2010 7:55 pm
Her kick had been certain and steadfast, and it landed with all the accuracy that she put into it. Her own landing, however, did not go as smoothly. She saw the Nega gearing up for a parry too late to avoid it. Her side twisted at the last second, but Proustite caught one booted leg, sending her flying head over heels down the next flight of stairs. The wall shuddered from the impact of her back slamming into it.
Ares shook her head, whipped a pair of glaring gray eyes up the stairs at the downed Nega. "Oh, so you do know how to fight back, is that it?" The wooden floorboards of the landing squeaked under her as she stood. She reached a hand out and snapped off one post of the wooden railing.
"Let's see how good you are." A muscled forearm flinched forward, sending the wooden post sailing at Proustite's left arm. Ares began to sprint up the stairs right behind it.
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Posted: Mon Oct 25, 2010 9:44 pm
Jack had fought before, and Jack had wrestled. Usually, he won. But this had more to do with the loyalty of his childhood friends than with his skill. If he had any at all. Without BJ and Ducky to back him up, Jack wouldn't be much of anything. The three of them, together, made for a formidable team.
This was Proustite's first battle. He was on his own, and in serious danger of getting his a** handed to him by a girl. Poor Jack had a rule about hitting women.
Proustite didn't. Not really. Not when they were trying to kill him.
He smirked with satisfaction at the harsh sound of her back hitting the wall, and was grateful for the moment it gave him to recuperate. It wasn't much, but it was enough. The Nega was on his feet in a heartbeat, snarling at the senshi, and the wooden post was reflected in the light of his brown eyes as it spiralled through the air.
Jack was surprised when he caught it.
"Can't," his tone was short and clipped, "I've gotta run."
He chucked the post at her head, turned tail, and fled back up the stairs.
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Posted: Mon Oct 25, 2010 9:56 pm
A frown touched her lips when he caught the post. It deepened with he threw it back. Sailor Ares didn't waste time trying to catch it. She dodged to the left and then gave chase up the stairs, her boots sending heavy footfalls echoing down to the floor below. A hand with painted nails gripped the railing, helping propel her forward.
God, this was more of a work out than she had had in a while.
On the next landing, Ares spotted a cheap vase. Hideous, her mind complained. She considered it a favor to the building to have it destroyed. Curving up the next flight, she spotted Proustite diagonal from her, took aim, and launched the vase.
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Posted: Tue Oct 26, 2010 4:00 pm
Running up the stairs was taking a toll on Proustite's endurance. He didn't know how long the Senshi had been chasing him, but she seemed better off than he was. As a civilian, Jack liked to look good, and he took pains to preserve his mostly-manly physique. Work outs generally agreed with him.
But this was something else entirely.
Proustite made a conscious effort to breathe through his nose, and vetoed further step climbing in favour of another hallway. He was not looking over his shoulder, because he could hear the bloodthirsty Senshi stomping up after him, and squeaked in surprise when the vase crashed against the doorframe by his head.
Broken porcelain crunched audibly under his own boots. Proustite turned around long enough to mock her. There was a smirk on his face.
"Missed me!"
And then, because she was terrifying, he was off again. The ruckus sound of his frantic footsteps was muffled by a rug that spanned the short length of the hall.
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Posted: Tue Oct 26, 2010 5:31 pm
Ares loved a challenge. She loved a good fight, even a good chase. But this was getting a little ridiculous. There were plenty of enemies out there in the nighttime. She had wasted enough time already on this kid. Why did he insist on making his death such a difficult one? Didn't he see it was inevitable?
"Enough!" Ares hissed.
At the next landing, she grabbed on to one side of the rug and yanked it so hard that she was thrown into the wall behind her.
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Posted: Fri Dec 03, 2010 6:53 pm
There comes a time in every man's life where he must close his eyes and succumb to death's eternal embrace. That was inevitable. But right here, right now-- Proustite was bound and determined to avoid the fate that Sailor Ares had dictated for him. What was left of Jack's soul belonged to the Negaverse, and not to her.
Floorboards creaked loudly under Proustite's boots as he fled from the Crazy Skirt, and his pulse pounded like a drum in his ears. He did not hear her furious hiss, and cried out in panicked surprise when, suddenly, the world was pulled right out from under his feet.
Proustite's face connected painfully with the floor, and his bloody nose started up all over again. Swearing angrily under his breath, blinking back the tears inspired by the sharp discomfort in his nose, he staggered to his feet.
And then he was off again, wiping his face off on his sleeve, and thundering towards the end of the hall where a second staircase (and freedom, Beryl willing!) awaited him.
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Posted: Mon Dec 06, 2010 8:08 pm
The rug pull worked so well that, for a moment, Ares wondered if this was just a dream. The Senshi of Smoke often dreamed of battles -- of her flocked on either side by gorgeous women, one fist covered in blood, the other holding up a giant gleaming crystal. She dreamed so vividly of her battle successes that it was sometimes difficult for her to distinguish fantasy from reality, and in some extreme situations, she had swung to a pit of depression when the realization struck that, no, she didn't actually single-handedly destroy Queen Beryl with one piercing glare.
If this had been a dream, however, the Negaverse agent would not have gotten back up after kissing the ground with his face.
Ares spat out a curse and then took off after Proustite, her heeled boots slamming into each wobbling panel. At the top of the landing, she dug one heel in particularly hard -- so hard, in fact, that the boot got wedged into the wood. She stopped painfully in her tracks, sprawling forward on her stomach. With a few sharp kicks, Ares freed her foot from the boot and then kicked off the other so she could run evenly.
The small gap had given Proustite a wide berth in the chase. Ares tried to catch up, but in the next hallway, she lost her footing and slid across a loose floor rug. The momentum that she had built up in her chase sent her catapulting toward the far well and, unfortunately, right through an open window. At the last second, she turned to grip the windowsill, but slid harshly, catching herself instead on a gutter running the length of the brick wall. The pipe held for a moment, and then bucked hard to the left, detaching from the wall.
With a muffled gasp, Ares fell two stories to the ground, landing on her side. Pain flared up across her shoulder and arm. She moved it gingerly and was pleased to see nothing was broken. Anger creased in her brow, but Ares knew this match was over. Proustite was nowhere in sight. Not to mention, she had just fallen out of a ******** window.
Defeated and furious, Sailor Ares ran off into the shadows -- barefoot.
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