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 Posted: Sat Oct 07, 2017 11:16 am
Saturday evening drew long and his window for his weekly quota closed at an alarming rate. The moon began its descending arc, bars and other nightly establishments began their closing routines, and Destiny City's reckless night owls began their reticent meanders toward their homes. Kari's offer only helped so much for a one-time energy drain; he needed to find someone or face failure.
Many streets sat empty. Crossing industrial buildings and steeple rooftops allowed him quick glances into their spidering alleys - many of these stood just as empty. He passed the occasional addict or vagrant, but their energy contributions so seldom were worthwhile. But as he shot past billboards and skylights and gargoyle figures, he saw few more promising victims. One couple entered a car just as he found their street, and another figure fell asleep against a bus stop sign with no obvious energy in them. He needed someone who had an actual pulse, however, and each rounded corner left him wanting for choices.
When he reached the edge of a steepled church roof, he strambled to stop his own inertia. The following building, a greenhouse, promised disaster if he set foot on the brittle glass ceiling. Inside, he glimpsed a host of different flowers, possibly maintained by churchgoers or hired help, with some blooming now and others closed up for the night. Mature cherry trees cast their protective shadows on the building, thus framing most of it in inscrutable shadow. Briefly he considered breaking in to check for occupants. But who gardened in the dead of night?
Sense dictated that he go elsewhere. Still, he hesitated for a minute, if only to catch his breath in the cooling autumn air.
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Posted: Sat Oct 07, 2017 11:31 am
Isis wasn't much of a religious person, though she did tend to lean towards the Egyptian teachings. Very loosely leaned towards them. Churches in general were a very odd concept to her, with its people and their sermons. A gathered mass that fell towards one mans words, that came from a book that was older then dirt itself. The church in general, gave her odd feelings, and now that she was a 'senshi', she wasn't sure how to accept such a thing.
Luckily, she wasn't here for the church, but the greenhouse that was attached. The church, if anything else, was trying to be a self sustaining one and her had hired her nursery for the care to get the greenhouse going. Inside the glass room, with a low light and moonlight, Isis was pruning all the plants she could. She had no idea what time it was, as she took a moment to sit back. She took off the thick gardening gloves, turning her wrist over where a delicate small watch was and made a small sound of displeasure.
"3 am." She ran a hand through her hair and sighed, "Well, At least most of you have been treated well." She leaned over, cupping a red tomato in her hand, filling it fully. "Church will be proud to know you all are healthy and ready to be picked." She got up, brushing off dirt from her gardening overalls before heading over to the small office between the Church and greenhouse. A quick note was written with her work, the hours and plants that could be harvested.
"Good night little ones." She said to the plants, exiting out of the greenhouse and bringing her arms up for a stretch. She didn't feel tired though, invigorated by the hard work and took to the idea of walking home from the building. Or at least to the nearest transit that would get her home.
She would only let a small bit of anxiety rise and the hour she was walking, but the streets were so quiet. What could go wrong?
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Posted: Sat Oct 07, 2017 7:30 pm
The creature held his breath against the heavy seconds, waiting, waiting longer, and waiting against his better judgment for any sign of life. When the greenhouse door cracked at first, he thought it a trick of the wind. When someone exited the area with a languid stretch, he recognized it as good fortune. Even if he needed to drain her half to death, he would not return with a quota unmet.
Carefully he balanced on the flat gutter edge against the old tin roof. He watched her with his heartbeat pounding in his ears, and carefully dreaded her turning in his direction. Serendipity showed him her back, and he leapt from the rooftop before he could spare himself a moment for regret. He landed just short of her on the wide walkway. Faustite needed to react before she did —
In a snap decision, he dove for her. Tackling her down begged an advantage. She couldn't look at him, couldn't discern his face for pepper sprays and knife wounds had less chance of finding lethal areas. His hands met cloth, felt solid flesh beneath (somewhere within, he hoped, her energy seethed), and he threw his weight into taking her to the ground. Scrambling, he searched for the telltale spinebones over her starseed's sanctum. He spoke in a hushed, urgent voice. "If you scream, you'll die." He would chance nothing to ostensibly empty streets.
He kept his hand trained against her back. With all the frantic concentration he could muster, he pulled at the strings of energy singing through her body. In his free palm, they churned out into their own self-contained ocean. They roiled and spilled as waves against one another, collecting and coalescing into an all-too-familiar spherical shape. The last of the energy he needed, surely, and a starseed if she felt like risking her chances.
With any luck, for himself as much as her, she would bite her tongue.pixie nyxie feel free to have her yell for help or defend herself or what-have-you! he'll chicken out on the starseed thing and gtfo
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Posted: Sat Oct 07, 2017 9:00 pm
At first, she thought she heard a sound. A sound more unnatural to night then what was normal. It was a big city and even if they were in the more suburbish area, she could still hear cars. Even sirens in the distance. It wasn't as if the night was quiet. But she was sure she heard something. Instead of paying it mind though, she adjusted the strap of her overalls and continued moving.
Pain exploded from her back as she hit the ground, her head reeling from the impact and the sudden sight of grass and smell of dirt. She had no pepper spray, no weapon but her own body. And even then, it wasn't as if she was some trained woman of combat. She was a florist. She was a small 5'1 florist.
"D...Don't!" She thought that it would be a violation, that the sudden mans voice would do something to her like she had seen on the episodes of Law and Order that always played. In truth, it was much like that. She could feel his hand feeling around on her back and she froze in fear, her body stiffening as a small sob escaped. Please, she could only think, please be after money.
Take everything she had. Just don't take her body. Don't force yourself on her. Anything but that.
Instead she felt the drain of her energy, from being energized to what she assumed a battery felt at the end of its life span. Her body stopped its struggle underneath him and she dug her fingers into the dirt, attempting to pull away. Shame immediately filling her.
Was this what Itsuki had mentioned? Was this the negaverse that attacked and did this to people? Another soft sob escaped. If she screamed, she would die, but if she didn't she would still die. She didn't want this to keep happening, this sap of strength, this violation of her body being pinned down.
The helplessness of just allowing this to happen. With whatever she had left,
she lifted her head and screamed as loud as she could. If she died well...at least they'd find her body.
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Posted: Mon Oct 09, 2017 11:31 am
Seconds passed like languid minutes. Faustite lacked the finesse to pull in greater amounts; the orb swelled slowly as a meager beacon of light in the night's darkness.
What-ifs racked his nerves during these long waits. As he stared into the globe himself, his thoughts drew to retaliation. Humans, as a species, weaponized their ingenuity — they invested in risks, in revenge, in retribution. Seldom did they ever lay prostrate for long. In the coming seconds, he could get shot, stabbed, sprayed, countered. He could get ambushed by passersby, or tracked by a nearby senshi. The girl, herself, might be one of their kind.
But no transformation came. Instead, she screamed against his wishes — a cry that pierced the night.
Faustite grit teeth. The orb in his hand, was it enough? He banked on it.
Wordless, he sprung off of her. His mind reeled for outsiders, for knights and senshi encroaching based on sound alone. His ears strained for pounding footfalls, for sirens, for answering calls. Faustite anchored no chances in company; with a breath, he called to mind the great depths of the Cathedral. He felt the great stone corridors against his hands, the hallways hewn by ancient rock. He felt crystal light glaring down at him ostentatiously. He heared youma chittering ubiquitously, coveting his latest find before it reached the regrettable grips of his superiors.
In a flash, he was absent, and the churchyard's trees looked on with indifference.pixie nyxie sorry, was out all day yesterday! fin on my end~ it's lovely to see how isis responds to the crisis!
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