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 Posted: Thu Oct 29, 2009 7:28 am
Simon was vaguely aware of other voices peppering the air around him, and flashes of more color and shape that were the forms of other darkly-clad individuals-- dark blue skirt, long red hair strutting like a rooster, dragging along another boy whose tone of voice matched the helplessness of the atmosphere. Another, purple skirt stalking over to blue skirt, and-- spiky blonde hair dramatically leaping in front of him, voice booming.
"F-f-franz--" his lips struggled around his teeth, his voice quiet and small. The command to run had done nothing to make him move, and that was for two reasons. Reason number one was that this was one of the most terrifying moments of his entire life and he could no longer feel his legs; reason number two, it otherwise would not have been in him to run away with the full knowledge that someone else would be suffering in his place. He just couldn't. His cheerleading captain was eccentric to the point of being highly discomforting on a frequent basis, but that did not mean he'd deserve the punishment the girl with the massive purple hair seemed intent on dealing to all three of them.
This moral standing, unfortunately, did nothing to change the fact that Simon Ferris was too seized up to move. And so he was left to watch, helplessly, as the dark girl swiftly and artfully descended upon on classmate that he would at the end of the day consider to be a friend.
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Posted: Tue Nov 03, 2009 11:12 am
Charlie Boyle was exactly the sort of person who did, in fact, hate the rain. He had done one too many long jumps into a giant mud puddle and one too many laps around the track (with hurdles, no less) with his hair matted in his face to appreciate a good, gray, rainy day. Rainy days were not his friends. They were his deeply unwelcome visitors, and somehow, no matter how sure he was that he'd checked the weather forecast in the newspaper that morning, he seemed guaranteed to get caught walking outside without an umbrella whenever there was a sudden, torrential downpour.
Today was testament to this rule, this indelible fact of the universe and its relation to Charlemagne Boyle. True to form, the rain had started about three minutes after he'd set foot outside the downtown YMCA -- and as usual, he found himself handing over a grudging, overpriced ten dollars for a big golf umbrella. Somehow, even though Charlie never knew when it was going to rain, the mercenary sidewalk salesmen always, always did, because they were sure to appear curbside with their buckets of umbrellas within thirty seconds of the first droplet you felt hit your nose and thought, 'uh-oh, is that rain?' Charlie suspected it was some sort of cosmic ritual, possibly involving chicken sacrifice.
Today's umbrella was huge, with red and white stripes (Meadowview colors; he was pleased). It had one of those push-button mechanisms that made it expand and collapse, the kind Charlie always thought were bound to break quickly -- though he had never managed to have any single umbrella with him long enough to test the theory. 'Just keep a travel umbrella in your school bag,' his mother insisted, 'we have enough umbrellas for an army of Gene Kellys.' She ended up donating the extras to Goodwill every few months. Charlie didn't like keeping an umbrella in his bookbag: it would've taken up too much space.
His racquetball bag was waterproof, but the umbrella had a large enough bell to keep it dry anyway -- but he kept having to lift it overhead of other people with umbrellas who were walking the other way. Common golf umbrella hazard, really. The bottoms of his socks were wet inside his sneakers. The sidewalk was slippery. He hated the rain.
A peal of thunder split through the white noise of rainfall to either side of him, and then, for just a split second, a lightning bolt gouged the sky open to jagged white. Charlie saw the startled faces of a few people around him.
The ground shook -- a heavy rumble, like walking on the belly of a giant beast that was digesting its dinner. People paused again, caught their footing -- and so did he. That wasn't thunder. It wasn't lightning catching some hapless tree, either, or the wind dropping a tree on a power line, or anything like that. It was something bigger than wind and trees and thunder, he thought.
Youma. Monster.
Finding a place to transform from into Sailor Thuban wasn't easy, even with most people sheltered indoors from the weather. It was risky, too, these days -- Charlie was lucky to be a track runner and lucky to have only encountered the odd policeman on foot. He had the advantage against them, usually, so long as they didn't have squadcars, or horses, or bicycles, or segways (a few of them did, but like so much useless modern technology, those were impractical -- they cornered badly and were easy to elude or topple over).
He ended up ducking behind a dumpster in an alleyway. "Very dignified, Sailor Thuban," he grouched at himself, for lack of anyone else to grouch at.
Wearing a skirt in the rain was less than pleasant. So was running in the rain in sandals -- an open invitation for athlete's foot -- and trying to avoid people who weren't inclined to think he was friendly.
Umbrella held overhead, bag slung over his shoulder, Sailor Thuban followed the snippets of conversations he could pick up as he ran past -- "dragging a boy along the ground" -- "planning to kill him" -- "holed up in the park" -- "a satanic ritual they learned in that grand theft video game" -- "someone should call the police!"
He ended up in the park, and by then, no one wanted to chase him -- so he ducked behind a long hedge instead. Now came the important decision. A weapon.
The golf umbrella was fairly cheap craftsmanship, the kind of metal that bent if you left it on the floor of the car and stepped on it by accident, and blew inside out in a strong wind. The curved handle made it slightly unwieldy, but it had a fairly long reach, which was good.
His racquetball racket, on the other hand, was light and short --but it had a dual cylinder, tri-carbon frame. It was made to sustain heavy wear, and even the occasional anger-induced throw against the wall.
Then again, his racquetball racket had cost a hundred and thirty dollars, and the umbrella had only cost ten.
He chose the umbrella.
Thuban stuffed his racquetball bag under the hedges, glad again that it was waterproof -- then collapsed the umbrella down, velcroed its flaps tight, and moved farther into the park.
The good news was, the senshi had their enemies flanked now. There was a second one, white bodice with midnight coloring, on the far side of the clearing, already on her guard.
The bad news, the first bad news, was that that was the only good news. Worse were the three schoolboys struggling at the mercy of their captors, with nothing more than a can of mace and their adrenaline to help them. (Thuban, revising, put the can of mace tentatively into "good news," if he could get ahold of it.) Worse still was that their enemies weren't a single youma, or even several of the freakish creatures. They were people, actual in-the-flesh Negaverse agents. They were, he noted, very athletic and very fast, and very in control of the situation. But worst of all was the source of the violet star punctured into the ground, of the streaming weight of Negaverse energy swirling around them -- because that came from a senshi, clad in coal-pitch and looking like she'd taken a javelin through the chest, and very much fighting on the wrong side.
That was not the sort of thing you fought with a red and white umbrella. That much Sailor Thuban realized easily enough.
But it also wasn't the kind of thing you fought with a can of mace, or without anything at all, or -- saddest of all of these options -- terrifiedly alone.
And there was Astraea's stupid cat voice in his head again, playing him like the simplest one-string fiddle. 'You're here to fight the forces of evil. Duty is your priority. I expect a lot from you.'
That was pretty much all there was to it.
"I feel like I should offer you this opportunity to retreat," he called over casually, through the rain -- in his skirt -- and his budding athlete's foot -- with his red and white umbrella, outstretched like a rapier. "You see, my plan is to basically run around here dodging your Negaverse crap, and then, if I can avoiding getting killed by the three of you for long enough, you'll all catch pneumonia and then I'm pretty much set. So if you'd like to admit defeat and turn tail and run, now would be a good time. I take Vitamin C and Echinacea every morning with breakfast. Just fair warning."
Distraction counted for something, and bravado counted for something else. Don't lose that can of mace, kid, he thought to himself. I will be so pissed if you lose that can of mace.
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Posted: Tue Nov 03, 2009 2:30 pm
If Parker could read minds, he might have challenged Charlie to a "Who Has Worse Luck" contest. It would probably start with him simply pointing out the bleeding hole in his shoulder from where the purple-haired hot crazy chick's stiletto had skewered him and then end with him screaming, "YOU HAVE MAGIC POWERS!" Of course, the moral of the story would be that no one wins in the competition for most unfortunate, but Parker would still argue that he is the most most unfortunate. And if he could read minds, he might be further remiss to know that his life was not worth the destruction of an expensive racquetball racket either. Perhaps he would bemoan the materialism of humanity even in the most dire of circumstances. Perhaps he would politely invite Sailor Thuban to shove said racket up a very small and dark orifice. These were all possibilities.
Of course, he couldn't read minds. And so Parker just kind of looked defeated. Sigh.
Head still firmly clutched by the newest addition to the militant psychos, Parker was having a bit of a tough time keeping air in his lungs. He sputtered a few times, eyes flickering from one fellow Hillworth boy to the other. They didn't exactly look like a crack team of fighters together, not nearly as impressive as the two hot chicks and the military guy, or even as uniformed as the two senshis. In this battle, like all battles, good and evil didn't matter because, either way, Parker felt certain that his death had been rolled out before him, a winding carpet that he did not want to set foot on. It was obvious that his life was simply fodder for whatever battle was raging on between these two opposing groups. He highly doubted that he mattered to any of them. He was simply a thing to be fought over, like two stray dogs struggling over a half-rotted slab of meat.
The fact that the newest Sailor seemed more interested in using this venue to test out his sparkling wit was even more concerning. If Parker could have spoken, he might of said, "Oh, don't mind me over here. You know, on the brink of death. About to be murdered. Yeah, just keep blabbering on with your cute little pneumonia joke. Best get in your best material while your audience is still alive." If nothing else had put the nail in the coffin of his hope, then this surely had. Who were these people? Kids. Kids like him? His life was hanging in the balance because these two sides wanted to play a game of who has the biggest d**k.
Awesome. If he could've, he would have sighed. Instead, he shot a glare at the only person he could see, which was, unfortunately, the Negasenshi and the two other Hillworth boys -- one of which was wielding mace against a woman who had just leaped into the air like ******** Spiderman.
Wait -- what was that? Was that... a death bell tolling? Parker certainly thought so.
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Posted: Wed Nov 04, 2009 6:29 pm
It was a classic example of a slow-mo America's Funniest Home Videos. Franz held out the mace in a slightly trembling, overly firm, trying to keep steady hand: he immediately got distracted looking over his shoulder at the arrival of Sailor Thuban, the Hero of Skirt with a red and white attack umbrella: and it was already too late, because Tanzanite's cord had wrapped itself around his ankles and he went "a** over tits." The air was knocked out of his lungs as he collapsed back on the concrete, his daaaaamn floating up until it was expelled from his lungs. The mace had no time to have the button pressed down. It was still locked in his hand, but Franz St. Germaine was down and out.
His last thought was: echinacea is the crock of the medical industry, trying to avoid our lack of a useful health care system!
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Posted: Thu Nov 05, 2009 8:13 am
“Stupid boy,” Tanzanite sighed. It was impossible to determine whether she was talking about Franz or Thuban; likely both.
If there was one thing to be said about the senshi, they could talk. They could talk and talk and talk, without ever saying one single god damned thing that Tanzanite gave a s**t about. She was fairly certain that if the Apocalypse came and the entire lot of senshi were staring the ultimate evil right in the face, they would be busy telling it why it was the ultimate evil and how very, very wrong it was to destroy the world. 'Bad apocalypse-inducing godlike force of evil,' they would say, 'Destroying the world is wrong, wrong, wrong!' they would shout, all the while smacking it on the nose with a rolled up newspaper. Certainly, somewhere in the wide world, there was a senshi toting around a rolled up copy of the Destiny City Times and just waiting for their chance to smite evil.
With a ******** newspaper.
And people wondered why she loathed them so completely.
As soon as Franz was down for the count, Tanzanite's foot came down upon the wrist holding the mace. Children were sneaky little things, always screaming and throwing up and pooping all over the place, and she wouldn't have him trying to trick her by pretending to be unconscious and then macing her in the face once she bent to retrieve the can. Which she would do only a half-second later. However, instead of taking the can from the boy, she simply twisted it in his fist, aimed the nozzle at the ground and pressed the button down. Within only a few seconds, the thing would be sputtering, it's contents soon to be washed away by the rain.
Straightening her posture, Tanzanite closed the small space between herself and Simon, reaching up a hand to gently stroke the back of his head as she regarded the newest addition to their little party. Black-painted nails combed through the terrified boys hair as she murmured, “Don't worry, boy. As long as you stand right here and keep your mouth shut, you'll be just fine.” Her tone was soothing, the kind one might take when talking to a favored pet. It changed abruptly as she regarded Thuban. She rested a hand on Simon's shoulder, tightening her grip to make it clear that should Thuban do anything stupid, it would be Simon who paid the price.
“Too much Vitamin C can cause nausea, you know,” the Lieutenant remarked, tilting her head slightly to one side, “And by the way you're vomiting up nonsense, you might want to cut back.”
“Nova,” she grinned, casting a glance in the woman's direction, “Would you like to show our new friends here how we deal with unwelcome interruptions?”
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Posted: Thu Nov 05, 2009 4:28 pm
“I don’t want to play your love game,” Nemesis snapped impatiently. When her flight or fight response started kicking in, it was leaning just a little bit towards the flight, because <********> there was a third one now, and no matter how much she’d like to kick him in the balls, it was impossible when it was three to one... Somehow, in the midst of all of this, she had to keep these OH GOD YOU STUPID a** LITTLE BOYS (her mind screamed as ANTHER boy showed up with a can of ******** MACE, MACE for crying out loud! What was MACE going to do against a goddamned NEGAVERSE AGENT?) from getting their star seeds ripped out of their chests.
Insert Mission Impossible theme song, if you may.
For the moment, she ignored Tanzanite and Obsidian, because there was an ex-senshi standing in front of her, and that seemed to be her main opposition. Maybe if she paralyzed this b***h she could manage to make a get-away from the other two… Then again, she wouldn’t have done anything to help the boys who had put themselves in peril. Then again, her life was more important than all of their’s combined. Oh, and here it was… a lovely distraction so she could make her escape!
…Wait. Goddamnit, GODDAMN. Her back-up was a boy in a skirt with a ******** UMBRELLA? Jesus ******** Christ on a ******** stick, this sucked balls. Insert a facepalm right about… now. Nemesis was beginning to care less and less about rescuing everyone else, and was beginning to care a whole lot more about saving her own a**. The odds were against them, it was still three to two, and with a whole bunch of extra baggage on the two-person side. If these Negaverse idiots thought she’d trade her life for some stupid boy students, they were so wrong. So very ******** wrong.
Nemesis was not a self-sacrificing sort of person. Nemesis liked her life. She liked to win, and she hated losing. She considered running away now to be a win of sorts, since she’d keep her life. Subconsciously, she took a wary step back, her gaze never leaving Nova. This was the baddie she was going to focus on, because this baddie was BAD NEWS. Tanzanite and Obsidian she could keep track of out of the corner of her eyes… and for now the boys seemed to be fine until they did something stupid again. Sailor Thuban, she didn’t give a rat’s a** about, if he was a Senshi he should be able to take care of himself.
“What game are all you cocksuckers playing?” she questioned, and YES, cocksucker happily included Obsidian too.
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Posted: Fri Nov 06, 2009 2:35 pm
This power... this was a rush that Nova had never allowed herself to succumb to. Her powers were dangerous. She remembered, faintly, that she used to be afraid, so afraid, of losing control, of losing her temper-- only because she thought that if she did so she might lose everything. And yet, what did Nova have left to lose? Her life, perhaps, but it wasn't really hers anymore.
Smiling broadly at the two Sailors, Nova extended her hand with a flourish, welcoming them to their merry parade. Charonite wanted her to ******** with them, didn't he? Well-- her boss was king of the psychological transgressions so she might as well take a leaf out of his book.
Nova reached in to her chest, the unwelcoming black hole sputtering as she grunted and wrested her star seed out. This HURT it ******** hurt and Nova really wasn't expecting that; she sort of felt invincible, high on power, the pure adrenaline rush. But this ******** HURT. Gasping, she held it out towards the Senshi, beads of sweat pricking her brow. At least there were two Lieutenants here now, just in case returning the star seed didn't bring her back to the power she was before.
"This is what we do with Senshi who interrupt our great work. Isn't it pretty?" Nova's star seed, previously white and shining, was dark and sickly and felt oh so wrong. It looked... cracked almost, like a broken soul. It was not a welcome sight to the Senshi. Even though it hurt like hell, Nova cackled. Even if she had to retreat the expressions on their faces were WORTH it, every painful second. So they thought stealing the starseeds were bad?
Look at Nova. She's worse.
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Posted: Fri Nov 06, 2009 5:43 pm
Again, his gaze trailed across Nova's form, and his hold flexed around Parker on occasion as though he was contemplating. "Two dumb bitches, and one guy to watch." Obsidian replied idly, not seeming to particularly mind that the kid was doing his best--or was it worst?--to talk trash. Well, that was fine. It was bondage-b***h who'd caught his attention now, made something rile up just underneath his skin.
Defiant little b***h. Lacked the nonchalant attitude that Nerissa did, but the urge to sink his teeth straight into her throat until her trachea popped still tickled at the back of his mind. "Figured he would as soon as you spread your legs a little wider for him." Obsidian mused, ignoring the scared ramblings of the students. And just in time, too.
Eyes flicked up to take the boy in the.. was it a skirt? A grin snaked across his lips unconsciously, tilting his head as though to figure out what the hell he was seeing. "E coli, you say? That what the skirt is for? Protection against explosive diarrhea?"
Bondage b***h had her little show, and Obsidian watched with an amused an idle eye. Bit of a control freak, was she? Mm, he was just about to see if he could exchange the kid in his grasp for that can of mace when Nemesis spoke up, indignant and worthless as ever. Never learned, did she? Well, there were three of them, and that little decaying move wouldn't help her a** out this time. Cocksucker, huh? He smacked his lips at her with a grin before Nova did something that he didn't expect.
She ripped out her own star seed.
Well, holy s**t. Interest perked now, he watched intently as she displayed what the hell he'd done to her, feeling something that might have been pride threatening to take hold. "Very pretty..." He mused to himself, and there was something hungry in his gaze as he seized on this new information. One day, he wouldn't need Charonite to hold his ******** hand to obtain that sort of result.
He'd be able to do all of that, and more. His arm tightened unconsciously around Parker's neck again, savoring the thought.
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Posted: Sat Nov 07, 2009 7:09 pm
The corrupted senshi would be his target, Thuban decided. Even if he couldn't manage to get to the starseed before she could stow it back in her chest -- and he doubted, of course, that he could -- the way she gasped and let out a pained mpph! in drawing it out was some kind of sign that the act of doing so weakened her. If there was any chance of neutralizing her as a threat, it might not last long.
And the other senshi hadn't moved from her place, wary as an alleycat. Whatever had brought her here, a fierce sense of duty didn't seem to be propelling her forward at all. There was no sense in waiting for her.
He knelt into a track runner's stance, one hand buried in the muddy grass, the other still holding the umbrella out before him like a spear. He didn't hesitate, but instead bolted straight for Sailor Nova, standing beside Tanzanite.
There was nothing to wait around for: his plan was extremely simple. It was very likely to end in his death, but no amount of standing around hemming and hawwing about it would change that; he'd only lose the initiative. Thuban didn't have much to work with -- but he had more to work with than the wounded and terrified boys who were already at the Negaverse's mercy. He concentrated on congratulating himself for having a strong moral center as he ran, in order not to be concentrating on the very real fear that his tactics were terrible and he was soon going to be a hundred percent dead.
Sailor Thuban lifted the umbrella overhead as he ran, looking to bring it down and engage in a battle -- but when he got close enough, instead of lowering his left arm and the umbrella he raised his right one, with a fierce cry of "Rust and Dust Accumulation!" and threw a handful of pale, glimmering white light out before him.
It wasn't much of a plan, but it had heart.
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Posted: Mon Nov 09, 2009 4:13 am
It had gone from oh s**t oh s**t to OH s**t OH HOLY s**t, which was a definite upping of the ante. Franz struggled every moment pinned to the ground with Tanzanite's foot on his wrist like a friendly reminder, and he was completely at her mercy. He struggled to rise: she immediately kicked him down again with another friendly reminder, this time to the face.
"Rust and Dust Accumulation!"
To Franz's ears basically sounded like something undesirable out of an infomercial, possibly for the Holy Jesus Sponge!, but suddenly Nova -- with one hand outdrawn, holding out her tainted, grotesquely corrupted starseed -- was moving as though through a very thick fog. Of Jell-O. As the others made a start towards Thuban -- Tanzanite with her grip on Simon and Franz both, Obsidian and Parker -- the dust glittered all over them, and even Franz's flailing was suddenly in appalling Matrix bullet-time slo-mo.
Hey, it looked as though Sailor Thuban was not just a guy really content in his masculinity.
"GO," he bawled. "GO, GO, GO. POLECATS. OORAH. WE DO NOT GIVE IN TO TERRORISTS. FERRIS AND I ARE PREPARED TO DIE."
(Possibly Simon was meant to thank his Captain for forfeiting his life.)
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Posted: Sun Nov 15, 2009 1:51 am
“I look like a whore, I got it,” Tanzanite forced a sickly sweet tone to her voice as she regarded the agitating red-headed Lieutenant, clearly unphased by his insults, “Get better material or shut the ******** up.”
She had bigger things to worry about, she realized as Nova ripped out her own star seed.
Ripped. Out. Her. Own. Star. Seed.
Tanzanite was not sure if the appropriate reaction was to watch with awe or facepalm in annoyance. There was the thrill of seeing the kind of power that she might someday wield, but it was dampened by the fact that their supervillain for this fight had just pulled a Darth Vader at the end of Return of the Jedi and removed her ******** helmet. Tanzanite settled for a deep sigh, and was just about to tell Nova to put her star seed back in her chest when Mary Poppins made his move.
Somewhere in the dark corners of her mind, Tanzanite imagined sodomizing Thuban with that umbrella as his attack took hold.
“Put your ******** starseed back in your ******** chest, Nova!” Tanzanite yelled, her agitation not marring her apathetic expression. Her focus was on Thuban now, on the one who might mess up their wonderful plans for the evening. When she'd instructed Nova, she meant more along the lines of 'shoot him with Negaverse mind bullets' or something equally awe-inspiring. The last thing she expected was a literal response. Effective as it was, it also left her open to attack.
“Kill them both.” There was a hunger in Tanzanite's tone as she took a painfully slow step towards Thuban. She didn't need to attack him, she just needed to get to Nova. Keep Nova from getting her a** kicked long enough for the girl to unleash hell upon the lot of them.
She would, of course, give Franz a nice, solid whack in the back of the head (even if it took her a full five minutes, because <********> that kid was loud) before she started off towards Thuban.
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Posted: Sun Nov 15, 2009 3:14 pm
It was disgusting. Nemesis' face twisted into an expression of utter repulsion as Nova ripped her own star seed out of her chest. That wasn't the star seed of a senshi, it was putrid, disgusting. No longer was it white and pure, no, the darkness had seized hold of it, broken whatever goodness had been there to begin with. Nemesis could swear it stunk with evil, but that might have been her mind exaggerating the situation. Nova was no senshi now, not in Nemesis' head, and while she had no qualms about hurting another senshi before, she felt mildly reassured that she could try and beat this girl and then make a run for her money's worth.
The boy in a skirt made his move, and Nemesis couldn't waste this opportunity. If they focused on Thuban, she could have her chance to attack Nova, the one who seemed to be the strongest of them all. She knew the other two weren't exactly pushovers, but she wanted to incapacitate Nova so the situation would become salvageable. The other scout charged towards Nova, and even though she suspected he wouldn't make it there, it was time to make her move. "Decay of movement!" She hoped it worked, but for some reason she didn't expect it to. Nemesis doubted it'd even effect more than one person, IF it happened to work on Nova.
She hadn't tested it out, but she knew it had extreme limitations. She was still weak. Nemesis would go stronger... if she survived this. If it worked, it'd be a miracle that would make her start believing in a god. Nemesis could snatch that tainted star seed and bring it to... god knows who, maybe she'd destroy it so that Nova would NEVER present a problem ever again. "I guess it's time to stop chit-chatting!" She balled her hand into a fist, pulled her arm back enough so that it had more driving force when she aimed it at Nova's head.
If this didn't work, ********, she'd be so screwed. She'd haunt every ******** person here until the day of their deaths, and then her ghost would KILL ALL OF THEIR GHOSTS.
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Posted: Sun Nov 15, 2009 10:08 pm
Nova had never found herself at the mercy of another senshi's attack. The moment wasn't really one to relish though she had the time to do so-- though she tried to move her hand back towards her chest it was slow going. And the Senshi in the ridiculous skirt was running towards her, not affected at all by his bloody ********>. Nova mentally theorized that this boy in all of his short skirtedness was not to be trifled with when it came to large beach umbrellas as the stupid tip skewered in to her thigh, causing her to give a strangled, stupid long winded cry as she tumbled down slowly, gravity be damned. It gave him a lot of time to wail on her, though her hand clutched desperately at her starseed because she wasn't about to let this bloody senshi have it.
Nemesis' attack unfortunately, flew over both their heads, which was a boon for Sailor Thuban and Sailor Nova alike. She was bleeding, she was sore, and she felt a great emptiness inside her the longer her star seed was out.
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Posted: Wed Nov 18, 2009 4:41 am
Watching the battle between senshi and Negaverse erupt was two parts interesting, one part scary, and two parts annoying. Parker didn't want to be here, his head still tightly locked beneath some redheaded guy's armpit. It reminded him of high school. And middle school. And elementary school. And summer camp. If this was the way he was going to go -- asphyxiated underneath the armpit of justice -- then he didn't want to enter into death passively. And clearly, Captain Mace and his little servant boy were going to be absolutely no help in the matter.
Parker wanted to go out on an adrenaline rush.
When the dust picked up across the field, Parker hoped that it might provide some sort of screen for his escape. The wound on his shoulder still drizzled blood evenly, and if he didn't hurry, he would either pass out from loss of blood, or die later from infection. No, this was his moment. The girl was doing something to Nova several feet away from him, and he couldn't quite tell what. The second Nova began to fall, Parker jerked his arm up and slammed it into Obsidian's side as hard as he could, which was probably respectably hard if anything. It was even diminished by the little trick of Sailor Thuban that made him feel as though he were wading through water.
The moment the elbow was thrown, Parker attempted to wiggle out of the chokehold as quickly as possible, hoping that Obsidian would be distracted. Of course, the Hillworth teen was injured, slow, and not exactly a Greek God in terms of fitness. He was more likely to accidentally fall down a flight of stairs while tying his shoe than successfully evade capture by a maniacal madman (which Obsidian clearly had to be). But none of that mattered then. No one could save him but himself. The magical schoolgirl (and boy!) were only there to save their own interests, not him. Yes -- this was what he had to do. Try to run!
Foolproof plan.
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Posted: Wed Nov 18, 2009 11:29 pm
You know, he felt that. It almost tickled.
In all honesty, it was enough to make him grunt, but his mind was distracted elsewhere with the frenzy of movement going on. Skirt boy with his umbrella, and Obsidian was strongly reminded of a javelin--and then the powder. What the hell was that, his makeup? Still, he'd gathered enough experience with random, glittering, seemingly-useless senshi attacks to know they were often more trouble than they were worth.
Bondage b***h had lunged, Nemesis had lunged, and when the elbow connected with his side, Obsidian shoved Parker away from him without warning. He really didn't care if the kid ran, not when a battle royale was at hand, and he was lunging at the blue-haired senshi scout with a vengeance. Oh, she might be able to clobber Nova good... but Obsidian was rearing back with a punch of his own, ready to smash his fist into the back of her skull.
Clearly Nova was not quite killing herself with that star seed stunt of hers, so Bondage b***h better shake that a** a little faster if she hoped to get the girl to listen.
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