Words: 1106
Backdated to Apr 08, after the events this and this rp.

The three words that best describe you are as follows, and I quote,
"Stink, stank, stunk"!

Everything still stunk. Not as bad as it had inside the theater near the body and unwashed, but the light miasma of deadthing mixed unpleasantly with every other scent that floated about Sandrine's awareness on the run from campus back to the scene of the crime. If it was a crime, which is certainly seemed likely so. The cops had been called, the place itself was under investigation and not worth going into without bringing unwanted attention from 9caliburs, but the surrounding couple block bore investigation. Getting to the rooves near the theater, looking down at where Shale had been waiting in the alleyway, it didn't take long to latch onto that crawling, sick, twisting feeling up from gut and along spine- not as distinct as the one with the Lieutenant or the higher officers at the funhouse. Sandrine slowed for a block, trying to juggle paying attention to where-going and where-chaos-going at the same time. The effort ended abruptly, hip checking parking meter with some expletives and a followup kick that clanged loud in the quiet air of the street.

Alright. So it takes too much focus at the moment to really feel and walk at the same time. Directionally. Gotta be a practice-perfect, cause Ida and Cherry...well and all those Negaverse people seemed fly with it. It's near enough to feel generally, but not right in the theater. Keep to the middle of the sidewalk. Middle. walk.
walk. Middlewalk. Middlemiddle, listing, mid- its moving. Yeah, its getting stronger. Its like there's things crawling up my ribs in the back. Grosssss walk. middle. Okay its not just moving closer.

The Senshi of Execution's attention snapped away from focusing into the 300yard stare and into the very real tumbleweed-newspaper, empty storefront, crap area of suburb. "It's coming for me."

"If they hunt energy, I'm like a Starbucks latte compared to gas station dispenser, right? Just gotta fork out the 4.95$, in the scheme. " Voice sounded uncertain and faint, unpleasantly so for Jack's personal pride beneath the uniform. Yeah, when thinking about this whole thing, I'd rather be talking out loud cause then it's like there's someone else here, along with me. Doing this alone is bunk- gonna be half a year doing this and I still don't have any friends. Buck it up and bootstrap, Jackie, no use whining. Still got a job to do, and that's to make sure this thing doesn't hurt anyone else. Not Shale, not me, not joe-shmoe-don't-know.

Sandrine saw the eyes first- primal warnings that a particular flash, or flashes, of a specific kind of green in peripheral were the reflections of eyes that had nightsight. Eyes like cats, wolves, bears (maybe?) anything predatory and-

it was way too many eyes altogether. It padded at a trot from shadow to shadow, both confident and possessed of rudimentary hunting instincts. Eyes of all sizes blinked all along a humped back and shoulder region. As it got closer, the part in the black fur-stuff of its 'neckhead' protrusion was apparent and vertical. It had too many legs, powerfully muscled and moving fluid like some ghost centipede risen from a basement on the living room wall.

" Balls. " The thing was massive. It didn't look intimidated to be stalking right along at a senshi that was plainly looking right at it. A senshi that was stiff-legged and frozen just watching it for a good ten seconds more as it started from its ghosting along into a full out sprinting lunge. The foremost paws were fast, reorienting to clip into Sandrine's outer hips even as the senshi turned and dove for pavement. It's legs gave it so much pivot.

There was hot pain down the length of legs until the boots interrupted. The head-place stump split wide with stench and shrieking roar, clamping around Sandrine's waist and center, then the world went topsy-turvy. Three dimensional space, like free running and trapeze kicked the sky back above and the creature raising up on its back legs to bat at its prey once gravity did its work of drag. It threw me up. Like a cat with a chipmunk. Enemy is down.

Gonna get hit. Hit it back "By the Sword!"

The longsword sailed out, embedding into the maw even as long claws on too many paws right hooked Sandrine into a skidding roll. The senshi came to a stop face down in the empty road. The Youma thrashed, coiling up its self in frenzy of clawing legs and coiled fur.

Sandrine pushed, shaking. Who put a quarter in me, cripes. MOVE. Go-go-go gogogogogogo-

"By the Sword!" The longsword flew again, cutting into the coils indeterminate of location. Ashes puffed out of the impact. Legs and fur started fading ashen and breaking apart from the fore half until the thing was bisected. Half a thing. It snarled ash at her, the fore parts not looking like they were going to ash anymore. But it vanished in a blink, the whole horse-volume of it, in a flash of blacklight purple.

Is that a win....did I win? I didn't ...I didn't kill it. Sandrine went to pivot, nervous if it was a teleport to get to a flank or behind, but muscled and flesh flared. Pain- there was a blood oozing from scores on waist, hips and thighs. Road rash pocked arms, shoulders and bottom, oozing and livewire. Sandrine fell sideways and stayed there for long minutes, waiting, breathing, eyes darting around. Is it still here? No, dummy, feel. No its gone. It retreated...somewhere. Don't got more magic. Need some bandaids pronto. Oh man, I don't thing there's enough gauze in that floor first aid kit at the dorm. CVS is 24, right? I'm going bleed through my jeans just shopping. Damn it.

At least stop laying in the street. Gonna get hit by a taxi and that'd be pretty sorry.

What happens if we don't make them all ash? Is it going to just come back and murder-fy around here tomorrow night? Maybe I can...maybe Ida? or ...balls. Balls. What am I going to do? That thing was huge and ragdolled my physics all over this street. The senshi of execution pulled off a glove, wadded it, and bit the the thing like a cowboy western stick during a surgery in order to stand and walk. Minutes were passing with no feel or follow up of the Youma. It was time to get back to 'safety.'