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 Posted: Wed Jan 09, 2013 4:26 am
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Surrounding the courier subsidized airport, full of planes with packages and mail, were wide, unlit fields where pheasant, rabbits and moles lived out their simple lives with occasional interruption from planes. There weren't many buildings nearby to clue civilians into the fact that a trap had been sprung, then a desperately short fight near the barrier fence between the fields and the runways.
"Unconscious lay the broken maid,
and to the final fields she prayed,
her soul at last to rest be sent
when last life's left her from foe's torment..." Schörl whispered sweetly against the girl's ear, holding her by the joint cloth of sleeves and purple sailor collar . The lieutenant rubbed her cheek against her passed out prey as the energy flow started to wane.
They were all so young and small. Even this little Sailor Scout couldn't be more than 15 years old and five-foot-five in her little heels. A motley ragtag trying to protect people they didn't know for reasons that they picked up out of comic books and magazines. They didn't understand what they'd stepped into, or what they were doing. They weren't soldiers, and didn't have the reading comprehension levels to be able to imagine it from reading All's Quiet On the Western Front for summer requirements.
Regulations passed around about what was and wasn't to be done- from who and how much energy they were to take from, what constituted and emergency cache, and how rampant ripping of starseeds out of people was frowned on. Considering she hadn't gotten this pretty one's name out of her before concussing the living daylights out of her sailor head into a street pole, Schörl took it as the pretty miss having no more name or humanity than any other homeless person that didn't count as viable genetic material to society.
"You will not rise again in our war, " Schörl shifted her hands, suspending the girl in the air by palming either side of her head, preparing to break that elegant little neck.
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Posted: Sun Jan 13, 2013 1:28 pm
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”Let her go,” a snarl came from yards away as Sessrumnir caught up with the energy signals perhaps a little too late. It was only by chance that he’d been anywhere near the airport, having met up with an old friend from the Navy earlier that evening. Flying planes filled with mail wasn’t nearly as exciting as fighter jets, but it was something. They had all made sacrifices to serve their country, and they all did their part in their civilian lives.
But being an ex-Navy school teacher was hardly enough to prepare him for life as a Knight. Whether she’d been distracted by sucking the life out of the little senshi, or just decided to ignore the approaching energy, he didn’t know... but he didn’t like what he was seeing.
Although he stood six foot and a few inches, he didn’t look like much of a fighter in his long-sleeved tunic and fur-lined boots, but he hoped that this girl from the Negaverse would take his warning seriously, or else there would be hell to pay.
“I said let her go!” he reiterated, just in case she had any second thoughts on listening to him. His weapon, a large, decorated vial of clear liquid, was at the ready, his hands grasping tightly to the chain as it rested by his side.
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Posted: Sun Jan 27, 2013 4:55 am
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Holding back the impulse to roll his eyes and make a comment about how he’d never heard that joke before, Sessrumnir kept his eyes narrowed, fixed on the lieutenant.
A chill ran up his spine, at her words. Unlike those he’d faced before, there was something different about this woman. Something about her very demeanour startled him, the cruelness in her eyes and the smile she’d shown him had him hesitating, almost as if to wonder if he was missing something.
He’d faced the cruelness and hate many times over, in this life as a knight, and in his days in the military, but this style of fighting wasn’t something just anyone could train for.
He reacted instinctively. Regardless of how much of a textbook narcissist he could be, he would always put his own safety behind that of others. He’d nearly been killed in the burning building a year ago when he’d helped the civilians escape... besides, he was strong enough to handle whatever was thrown at him.
Or so he thought.
The stormglass fell to the ground as he released hold of the chain, his arms out to catch the young senshi. But he wasn’t the kind to let up his guard so easily.
Weaponless and thrown off balance, he did the only other thing he could think of. Something he’d only done once before.
His first step backwards to catch himself was silent, but as he stepped again, still awkwardly holding onto the unconscious senshi, a low rumbling issued from under his feet. If this lieutenant wasn’t expecting a storm, she was dead wrong.
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Posted: Fri Feb 01, 2013 9:19 am
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Meandering around the halls of the Negaverse gave an onlooker a panoply of ridiculous to deadly accoutrement to gawk in if alternating incredulity and sadistic glee. Her own weapon, a dingy horse crop, was leaned the ridiculous rather than the sublime. It didn't take a far leap of logic to reason that the only reason captain-fluffy-trim probably brought a lantern on a chain because that is what the fickle fates had deemed was his karmic soul weapon. It ambiently made one sad for whatever poor sot ended up with fuzzy dice or a cocktail umbrella and was expected to find some use for them in war.
The distance was closed. The key was, then, now that she'd successfully gotten him to abandon it, in favour of not having a face full of preteen cleavage, to keep him from having it to use. Could he summon it to hand as she could her crop? Possibly. How useful was her crop, actually? Not very much for a killing or crippling blow. Her years of Taijiquan was proving infinitely more appropriate, even if straight KungFu or another Martial Study would have been more immediately suited to live combat. It reasoned then that he should be able to fight as well to make up for the not-really-a-weapon.
She planted feet and swung down her body in the momentum to try a leg-sweep. He'd stepped back; she wanted to keep him stepping and if possible stumbling and falling. Feeling an onslaught and overwhelmed might win her the battle of morale and of focus. "It's easier if you lay down. Don't worry, I know how to ride."
What was making that sound?
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Posted: Wed Feb 20, 2013 1:59 pm
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He couldn't tell if the girl in his arms was even still alive at this point, but as long as her starseed remained untarnished, that was all that really mattered in the cosmic scheme of things. Which was ironic, all things considered. He wasn't a religious man, or even a spiritual one. He didn't believe praying for salvation was fair, to hoist one's faults and flaws onto someone or something so much more powerful than oneself. They, as humans, got themselves into this shithole, and it would be their own responsibility to get out of it.
She was fast, he could tell that right away. For being a taller woman, she was still very light on her feet. It also helped that he was horribly unbalanced with dead weight to compensate for. He didn't want to just throw the senshi down and risk her being trampled by the two of them as they fought, but he was going to have to do something more than just stumble around.
"Perhaps you're right," he said with a grin as he heard his own voice boom, as if someone had turned speakers up all the way. And just as she moved towards him again, he did just that — he rolled back on his feet and fell onto his back.
"Too bad you're not my type," he said, ignoring the fact that he didn't really had a type (it was much broader than he'd like to admit), and took the opportunity to use the momentum he had in falling backwards to push himself back up, but only after rolling the senshi off of him, and shooting out his legs at her in hopes of landing a blow to knock her back from advancing closer.
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Posted: Wed Feb 27, 2013 1:46 pm
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She'd intended to get in fast, over top of him, straddle his chest to pin his arms and then have his face and head to her mercy. Funny how things never went as first, or even second, plans. Worse was the unexpected cloaking that renny-wear seemed to benefit his physique. Oh, he wore it well, looking a fine, square-shouldered specimen of masculine physique, but frame was not usually hand in hand with meat hung thereon in the modern day and age of emo. She took the kick full on, not having wanted to sacrifice intent to dodge and not expecting it to be as powerful as it proved to be. Her arm had been out a bit to deflect flow, but it ended up jammed back in at her torso and then the momentum continued lifting her off her feet. And onto her rear, grimacing and keeping the arm in. Her air was knocked out of her lungs through her bared teeth.
It was like taking a hit from one the service men who came to lessons for inner healing. She would have sworn the air blue if she'd known how accurate that estimation were. Military training meant muscle and discipline she would have planned better if she wanted to take on. The arm wasn't broken, nor ribs, she estimated as she pushed up with her other hand. She was going to sport wicked bruises, if she survived this one. She coughed, getting air back, "Haven't you heard? Blondes are more fun."
"Give us another kiss, handsome, " She readopted combat stance, injured arm kept to the inner guard. She couldn't afford being slow to defend and attack because it hurt mid-action. Best to switch.
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Posted: Mon Mar 18, 2013 1:22 pm
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She was trained in some form of combat, that he was sure of. And if she wasn’t, she was doing a damn good job of handling herself. Sessrumnir let out a breath to steady himself, lowering the effect of his planet’s aspect now that the initial shock had worn off. All he’d needed it for was to keep her distracted, and was efficient enough to that end.
Hands up and ready for the next round, Sessrumnir grinned at her cockiness, despite being outranked. He’d give her credit for going up against someone above herself, but that didn’t mean he’d go any easier. Messing with the lives of others wasn’t a game he was willing to let her or anyone else play. While he wasn’t sure of the well-being of the unconscious senshi, he would do whatever it took to keep her alive, with the assumption that she still was.
“Wouldn’t you rather just give up?” he wondered, the stormglass that he’d dropped on the ground several feet away suddenly disappearing and reappearing in his hands. “You’re not afraid of a little rain, are you?”
Taking advantage of her defensive stance, Sessrumnir lifted the stormglass to see through it, hoping she’d not understand what was going on long enough for him to “catch” her inside. If he was successful, the effect would be immediate in that everything would go dark, and she’d be caught in the illusion of a storm, deaf and blind to everything around her for as long as he could see her, head to foot, through the glass.
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Posted: Sat Mar 30, 2013 12:34 pm
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Sure enough...there was that thing summoned to hand just as she could her crop, and there he was bringing it to bear as a weapon. Schörl expected that it would involve crystals or temperature changes or some other unpleasant beam of death whorling out of it. Revenge of FitzRoy, or something.
She hadn't expected the world to get dark, rainy, and like standing in a wind tunnel. Freak typhoon, no this was the Atlantic so they would be hurricanes, were not what she expected to be whipped up in a handful of seconds. In the middle of a fight and in the center of open land, could things get more inconvenient? She couldn't easily defend against a storm- they had no arms to punch nor legs to kick. They were force, ambient and at all angles. And being tall usually meant terrible chances with lightening. Schörl lifted her arms more, guarding her head as she slowly hunkered to a bunched-crouch then sprung away into a sprint.
Her quarry was taken for now, and she didn't have confidence that she could successfully survive a fight with someone that strong in a storm.
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Posted: Tue Apr 16, 2013 4:16 pm
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The sight was always morbidly amusing to him. He could see what was happening inside the glass, see how she could sense only the darkness of an approaching storm... but as the storm wasn’t really there, the reality of her movements would be startling to an outside observer.
The temptation to chase after her was great, but she was a skilled fighter, and even if his power was greater than hers, he couldn’t say he would like to risk underestimating her. She’d already surprised him a few times, which he couldn’t say happened too often with these lower ranking minions.
He kept the glass on her for as long as his magic would allow, watching as she kept low to the ground, out of the way of impending lightning that would never happen. There were more important things for him to worry about than making sure she got what was coming to her.
If he could get this senshi girl to a hospital fast enough, she might just make it...
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