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 Posted: Mon Jul 01, 2013 10:46 am
"Zis line of work doesn't care about your profession, Buddingtonite." He nudged the other captain in the ribs with his foot. "But I'd do business wis' zat someone, especially if I could get a look at ze bruises." He smiled.
Bischofite watched the redhead ready himself for battle once more, and Bischofite raised his weapons in return. "Are you ready for a real fight?" Slowly he approached; each step was a measure of a hunt. Over rocks, around rebar, across barren slabs of concrete. Once more he stood by the ominous hole in the ground, from whence Buddingtonite sprang earlier. Finally he wedged his heel against the lip of the hole, and pushed off for a running start.
Once again he charged his foe, seeking to put him on the defensive with a series of swings. WIth the curvature of his weapon, he found it unconscionably easy to aim a slash at the redhead from any angle. In his pursuit for a victory, however small, he sought his opponent's pain with such ferocity. Such vigor. Such focus that he hadn't realized how precariously close he strayed to the half-finished building next to them.
With another swing, his weapon heavily impacted the steel and let out a loud ringing sound. Bischofite winced; his arm sustained all of the backlash. Finally he broke his offensive to drop a chakram and grip his arm. The pain hummed through his bones, right up to his shoulder, and he groaned lowly. He knew this was a poor position to be in, and injuring his arm in the process of seeking victory appeared an irreparable setback. He seethed, mostly at himself. Mostly at his inexcusably careless actions.
After all, how would he fill his quota and learn who to toy with if he lost here?
And to salvage this, he borrowed from Buddingtonite's earlier assault. He retrieved the chakram he dropped and hurled it at his assailant, hoping his aim held and the man received a glorious bruise from that action. If not, then he placed himself in a poor position to fight.
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Posted: Wed Jul 10, 2013 9:44 am
He had gotten himself into quite the pickle and now, more than ever, he had wished he had simply left Alois alone and found something else to mess with. No amount of personal revenge was worth his face getting smashed in, and while he should have taken comfort in knowing that Bischofite wasn't going to kill him, he honestly wasn't sure he trusted him, nor if Bischofite could trust himself not to go overboard. By the time the pain in his lower region ceased, Buddingtonite was considering just throwing the match all together... what was the point of keeping his energy rations and identity a secret if he was severely wounded, or dead?!
"A real fight? You mean... this wasn't?" Buddingtonite managed to pull himself to his feet, allowing for a hint of his fear and disbelief to be seen as he figured that they were little point in hiding any of that now. Especially when his opponent withdrew his deadly looking and obviously superior weapons. Bischofite came at him fast and the red-headed captain moved backwards, working on avoiding those violent blows and luring him closer towards the building rather than trying to defend himself. A wooden boomerang verses metal? That was just silly! Luck would have it that in his flurry, Bischofite seemed to have rattled his own arm, and ever the opportunist and with no other opening in sight, Buddingtonite jumped forward, fist curled and doing something he'd usually never do and aiming for the face, and just when he thought he had the advantage, his triumphant cheer was cut off when the chakram was sent flying. "I'll show you a re-s**t!"
There was no way he could have dodged it at this range, and no amount of bracing himself spared him from the pain when it sliced right through the top of his shoulder, digging in and throwing the confectioner in disguise back with a pained grunt.The sight of blood was Nyasa's queue to step in, and as much as she loathed her roommate slash landlord, she couldn't help but feel a tinge of concern when he went falling back with the weapon lunged in his shoulder. Not that she cared, but the punishment that awaited her from General Ilmenite if he was seriously harmed when she stood by and did nothing urged her on.
"Idiot. You're both going to get yourselves killed at this point." Nyasa sighed, standing to her feet and wasting no more time in transforming into her Negaverse identity. Mica had hoped that the surge of another Captain would have been enough to either distract Bischofite from following up on his prey or in the very least offer Buddingtonite the hope of salvation, and she was quick to descend from the building, spear at the ready and silently hoping that she wouldn't have to sully it with either of their blood.
Her involvement in this fight was to be a simple distraction for Bischofite, and she would certainly provide that, as she gave a shout to the dark-haired Captain, pretending not to notice the other one. "Bischofite, what are you doing sulking around here? Don't you have starseeds to gather?"
She'd offer a distraction, but it was up to Buddingtonite to make his move. Assuming the fool hadn't already bleed out, that is...Strickenized I have no excuse for why this took so damn long except that I am a lazy b***h. And for that, I apologize.
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Posted: Fri Jul 12, 2013 10:29 am
ChibiGingi Yes you do! An airplane engine fell into your living room, and it takes more than a couple days to fix that...
Bischofite approached his wounded prey with a smile. Mixed emotions played across his features: pride, excitement, respect... In the aftermath of battle, he recognized that Buddingtonite graced him with some wildly exciting experiences, and why shouldn't he respect the captain for that? Surely he deserved a starseed to commemorate the occasion, but he'd have to come up with that later. For now, he intended to claim his prizes, despite his sparring partner's injuries. If anything, pain made everything more fun.
"Buddingtonite," he began, but a vaguely familiar voice assailed him before he could finish. Naturally he glanced in the direction of the tone, and raised an eyebrow at the sight before him: Captain Mica, complete with her belts and her leather and her mildly attractive look of irritation. Now what might she be doing here?
If he had to guess, she must've felt their signatures and ruminated about it, as there weren't any order geeks nearby. Any self-respecting captain could down a civilian in a matter of seconds, so a fight with a civilian would not entertain two captains for long. Thus, she must've realized they sparred with each other, but... Why would she intervene in such an affair? She only recently came under his scrutiny, as his energy signature previously evaded him... Or was it even present at all before now? Did they have an audience without realizing it? How peculiar. But why in the good graces of hell would Mica resort to watching a sparring match, when she seemed the type to have a plethora of other schemes to attend to?
Somehow Bischofite suspected something was off about her arrival, and he wanted to know why exactly she set foot here. Even if it meant jeopardizing his own life, he would find out.
"You're right, Captain. My apologies. Let me just remedy zat shortly..." He broke into a quick sprint, and tapered off once he closed the distance to the redhead. Bischofite knelt down beside the man and whispered urgently, albeit mischievously: "Let's haf' a little fun wis' her." His gaze aglitter with schemes, he wrapped an arm around the captain's shoulders. He gripped Buddingtonite's fresh injury lightly, but if the man had any sense for a good show, he'd take the queue and break out into feigned wailing pain. Soon afterward, he slipped his hand into the captain's chest in a much-too-familiar motion.
Surely she couldn't allow another captain to die, could she?
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Posted: Wed Jul 17, 2013 9:40 am
Buddingtonite was already humiliated and felt that he was threatened enough for one evening, and adding salt to his wound was the fact that not only was he being assaulted by own of his own allies, but the one that agreed to help him was simply content to just stand there and watch. It would figure that he couldn't trust Mica for anything. She couldn't even pay rent, much less save her fellow officer from death!
The wound wasn't that great, and though there was blood, it wasn't deep enough to cause any real scarring or cut any vital ligaments. However, his shoulder wound would be the least of his concerns, and he wasn't prepared for the hand to plunge deep into his chest, giving a strangled cry and doing nothing to hide his pain or fear from the other two. There were times one needed a good poker face, but now was not that time, especially when he knew he'd have little use for it.
Then there was the pain that came with this act, and what the usual follow-up would be, if Mica didn't step in. He tried to pull Bischofite's hand away, gasping and somehow managing to get a few words out, looking to the captains that held his life in their hands. "W-ait... this... taking it a little far... aren't we?"Mica was genuinely surprised by the sudden turn of events, and she felt torn. She hated Buddingtonite. Absolutely despised him. But he was a Negaverse officer and an ally, and not to mention, even more important then that, the one that was offering a roof over her head, a bed to lay on, and a fridge to raid whenever she felt peckish. To allow him to die, especially at the hands of another of theirs, would have been nothing but trouble for her later on down the road.
Not one to become overdramatic and plea for another's life, Mica remained cool, though one could easily read the momentary surprise in his eyes before she narrowed them and forced anything that wasn't amusement from her face. Finally, she addressed Bischofite, but not once did she raise her weapon. Not yet, anyways.
After all, she was only there to be a distraction. "Go ahead. Take his starseed. Just so you know, the punishment for killing another officer is quite severe, even pathetic hounds like this one."
She could see the surprised expression from Buddingtonite, and that only added to her cheeky little grin that had formed. "Maybe they'll turn you into the creature that you are the most on the inside... not sure how they'd do it, but I bet you'd make an exceptionally vicious youma. Maybe one that I can tame, then claim for myself?"
Now she did approach him, her tone dropping into a more sensual purr, and she gave his feathers a little flick, as she chuckled. "Yes, I'd lead you around on a leash. You'll be my precious little pet... feeding on little senshi starseeds left and right. Would you like that, my dear? Would you?"
Closer and closer she got, and if he wasn't distracted by this, then she'd simply have to resort to more lethal methods. She promised Ilmenite that she wouldn't harm Buddingtonite, and she wasn't going to make herself into a liar...
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Posted: Sat Jul 20, 2013 6:47 pm
Bischofite refused to relent. Rather, with each tug, he tightened his grip on his comrade's starseed. "Shh, shh... Don't fight it. You don't want to rip your own starseed out." Or maybe he did? Buddingtonite expressed an interest in seeing his, which would require removing it from his body regardless. Perhaps he and the other captain weren't so different after all. Then again, how could one resist a peek into the human life force?
Mica's encouragement only excited him. Finally, someone else may yet understand his motives. Either that, or she enjoyed having fun at Buddingtonite's expense. Did they know each other as civilians? Or perhaps they spun their own rivalry? She might enlighten him.
She continued to speak, which demanded more of his attention. A youma... An ex-human. Something beyond human. Something evolved past the unconscionably limiting features of humanity. Something devoid of pity, remorse, grief... All those admittedly fun, but extraneous emotions. And he might adopt a new form, something far more monstrous than a simple dash of face paint and a smattering of skulls. And at last, he would become a devourer of souls. That sounded far more like an honor than a punishment for killing one of their own. Considering the cost, if what she said was true, murdering the man seemed a far better choice.
However, he couldn't deny that Buddingtonite had some appreciable aspects. He held no notions that civilians were off-limits, something Bischofite never understood, so they found a certain common ground there. The redhead enjoyed a good bet, liked to test his skills, and held a certain charisma that the black-haired captain could appreciate. Why, it seemed like they were having excellent fun not too long ago. When did that fade?
Oh, right.
That was his fault, wasn't it?
Es ist egal.
Still, Mica approached him, indulging his weakness for the fairer sex. He shifted his weight into a more comfortable position, while still restraining Buddingtonite from all movement. No longer did he touch the man's starseed, but he refrained from withdrawing his hand. "I would want..." He paused and breathed a steadying sigh. Oh, how she coaxed the yearning out of him. "To be a youma is to transcend humanity. But ze complacency..." He smirked, though slight. "Nur für dich, Captain Mica. Only for you."
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Posted: Wed Jul 24, 2013 9:58 am
Mica wasn't sure what to think of this recent development. Part of her was horrified at the thought that being turned into a youma wasn't enough of a determent for him to stop. While she was intrigued, even turned on at the notion of just how wickedly insane this Captain was, she couldn't indulge in that fantasy.
It was becoming much harder to keep a cool facade up, and despite her disgust with Buddingtonite and all of his flaws, the sight of him struggling, grasping at the hand that held his life in the balance and the pain that was accented by his pale, sweaty skin... it triggered something dormant within her, a part of her that she had abandoned, because she had gone on her hiatus.
Maybe it was Buddingtonite's pained gasp, or Bischofite's words, but something unnerved her, and without warning, she rose her spear and pressed it to Bischofite's throat. The amber jewel didn't penetrate or touch the skin, yet, but the glint in her eye was enough of an indication that she would plunge it forward if she needed to. "You've had your fun, now release him."Buddingtonite wasn't sure how much more of this he could take, but the conversation that was transpiring between the two frightened him more than the hand that was clutching his starseed. Was this how he was to meet his end? At the hands of his own comrade? Would Mica simply stand by and watch? Buddingtonite... wasn't willing to die, not to the enemy's hand, and most certainly not to Bischofite's, or Apatite's, or anyone else!
The moment those fingers released his starseed, he gave a sputtering breath, too pained to hear Bischofite's words, nor did he see Mica's spear and its target. He wanted to survive this encounter. He wanted to live.
He summoned his wooden boomerang and lashed out, like a wounded animal fueled by desperation. Despite the pain of his opponent's hand in his chest, he arched the boomerang up and tried to aim for the side of the head, hoping to dislodge himself from that grip and get out of his range. He couldn't muster any words besides an animalistic scream, and he put as much strength as he could into that blow. Zinkenite told him to survive and endure... and he would do his absolute best!
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Posted: Fri Jul 26, 2013 10:39 pm
Bischofite watched her unblinkingly, his attention now wholly upon her. Her lithe, murderous form. Her commanding gaze. Her devotion to her words. She remained devoid of emotion, yet entrusted to purpose. This was the epitome of a Negaverse officer, was it not? Lethal skill, adamance in following orders... Following rules. She pretended to embrace his ideals, and for what? A chance to close the distance? Would she try to kill him over something as inconsequential as a devilish ploy for a bit of fun?
Certainly she couldn't fault him for his sense of humor.
"And if I don't, you would kill me yourself? It sounds like you expect to lose an officer tonight, Mica. Are you looking for some disposable entertainment? I haf' it, right he-" Bischofites words choked into a strangled grunt when something forceful impacted the side of his skull. He released his prey from sheer reflex, and broke his fall with his elbows before he hit the ground. Momentarily dizzy, he struggled to sit upright and focus. Even as the landscape swayed and Mica split into equally demented twins, he found his predicament difficult to surmount.
Finally, with the help of a nearby metal pipe, he pulled himself to his feet. Still, that dizziness persisted. He wouldn't be able to fight in such a condition. Surely they recognized that; but... With the presence of another officer, he lacked a reason to resume their skirmish. Unless...
Bischofite started to laugh - a low, throaty snicker. "Very good," he complimented Buddingtonite openly. "I don't know how you did it, or even if it was an accident, but it took me zis long to understand. Mica, your signature was indiscernible to me before. You weren't in uniform at ze time, were you? And Buddingtonite - I don't know how you did it, but you were ze reason she arrived, correct? Was she tailing you?" He tried to approach, but nearly lost his footing. Tethered to the pole now, he continued his feverish speech. "Even if I am right, even if it was an accident, you won our little bet, didn't you? I can't fight now, not like zis... I can't even stand of my own accord! Fine, Buddingtonite, you win. Come claim your spoils, if you retain ze motivation to do it.
"And I hope you apply zat unscrupulous cunning when you apply yourself against ze enemy. Ze fact zat you engage zat rus'less wit wis' your allies..." He grinned. "You are an interesting man indeed." After dropping his last chakram, he grasped the pole behind him with both hands. He'd need to stay upright for this, assuming it's possible.
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Posted: Mon Jul 29, 2013 9:38 am
The moment he was freed, Buddingtonite could feel nothing but relief and even in his pained state, he felt a sense of accomplishment swell within him. He wanted to gloat his feat and remind Bischofite that he shouldn't have underestimated him, that whole spiel, but given the fact that he just had a hand in his chest and was fearing for his very life, he was willing to use his freedom to catch his breath. He dropped his boomerang before dropping to one knee, and for all her hesitation in coming to his aid before, Mica was at his side, grabbing his arm and keeping him from falling on top of Bischofite. He wasn't sure if she was genuinely worried, but he was in no condition to scold her just yet, so he graciously accepted her assistance for now.
He also graciously accepted Bishofite's compliment, and since the cat was out of the bag, he took it with stride. "It's called your communicator crystal... also, calling in a favor..."
He then glared at the woman that helped keep him steady, more and more strength returning to his form, as well as anger. "Though, you could have stepped in a little sooner... half the time I think you want me dead..."
Mica said nothing, and when he felt that he could stand on his own, Buddingtonite pulled himself away from her and stood straight, even when one knee wobbled and his bleeding shoulder sent him a painful reminder of how much dodging practice the Captain truly needed. He'd worry about that later, and having another person, even his own ally, admit defeat to him... oh, yes, that was almost enough for him to want to forgive his attempt on his life.
Almost.
"I say it's time to return the favor, Bischofite," Buddingtonite said, and the moment that Bischofite had handed to pull himself onto the pole, he reeled his arm back and made is clear exactly what he was going to do. His starseed wouldn't have been the only one to feel another man's fingers this evening. "Though I suspect you might enjoy this!"Mica watched her cohort, if he was even considered such a thing to her, plunge his hand into Bischofite's chest, and even someone was firm and experienced as her winced. In truth, she didn't really approve of this and she knew that, like prior, she should have stepped in. However, unlike Bischofite, it seemed unlikely that Buddingtonite would rip the seed out and kill him. No, she may not have known much about her landlord, but she knew that he wasn't foolish enough to go that far.
Still, the sight of blood on his shoulder and the pain that the both of them were in struck something within her. It had been dormant for what felt like years, but little by little, the impulse was becoming too much to simply cast aside.
She addressed Bischofite first, regaining some of her calm demeanor now that no one's life was in danger, and she made sure to keep her smile respectful. "It's no accident. In this line of work, we need to work together, regardless of how we may feel. General Ilmenite, and you in a sense, reminded me of this, and let this be a lesson to you. Both of you."
Mica brought her spear to the side, but she did it in a fashion that was meant to display some kind of authority. The situation was reversed now, but she would remain there, to act as mediator once more. She didn't suspect Buddingtonite would go that far, but she had seen a side of him that she swore she had never seen before. And then, there was the wildcard Bischofite... she'd stay a little while longer, in case they needed to be broken up, or patched up.
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Posted: Tue Jul 30, 2013 12:32 pm
Strangely, the pain didn't stem from penetrating the skin, the sinew, the bone. No serenade of nerve endings compared to this wholly different sort of agony. Almost otherworldly, it was, yet he'd encountered it twice already, and every time... He gasped, half seething in recoil. Every time it bore him a boon, some measure of benefit, even if he neglected to view it as such at the time. So, would Buddingtonite's hand present him with some nuance of his own? Would enduring the suffering endow him with some advantage, some unique and visceral experience?
Perhaps that was half the secret excitement coursing through his veins.
The other half remained wholly magnetized by the thought of someone so... insignificant to him holding his life in a precarious balance of power. It wasn't that he lost; he constantly encountered failure throughout the course of a single day. But to have his entire life condensed and distilled into a single finite moment, a single instance where one man entirely removed from the unmitigated trainwreck known as Alois Sholz, the unrestrained revulsion known as Bischofite, and in that moment only one stranger may decide whether or not he survives the night.
And surrendering that incessant will to live felt so gratifying in its own way. Now out of his hands, his life remained a frivolous toy.
Despite the sense of fulfillment borne from the act, Bischofite winced and let out a strained groan. His body jerked and twitched under the weight of the pain, spanning systemically. Still, he managed to peer through windows of pain and look Buddingtonite in the eyes. He wanted to see that triumphant countenance. He wanted to recognize that spark of pride, of unerring victory. He wanted to see just what sort of excitements his surrender sparked in someone.
And by watching, through tides of hurt, he may glean some insight into his ability to influence others.
Bischofite gritted his teeth before responding, as a means to steel himself against the pain. "To work togezzer against an ally..." He winced again. "Is zat not ze definition of subterfuge?" Silently he searched Buddingtonite's features for a response. Would he recognize the iniquity of his actions? Would he understand the folly? No, it didn't matter.
He slowly understood he led an existence bereft of allies.
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Posted: Fri Aug 02, 2013 9:22 am
Had Bischofite not have drawn blood and then threatened his starseed, maybe Buddingtonite would have felt repulsion at the sight of an ally in pain. Yet, for all his suave and laid back facade, it was gone the minute he felt those fingers wrapped around his essence, and he was all too eager to return the favor. He gave the starseed another squeeze when he felt that the strained pain he did see wasn't quite enough, and there was no mirth in his voice, despite his smile. "Subterfuge, yes, but also to teach you a lesson! Never... ever put your hand in my chest again."
After his anger passed, he would realize the hypocrisy of his statement and he suspected he'd suffer for his actions later. In truth, this was his fault for striking at Bischofite first when he wasn't even powered up, and perhaps it was that realization, instead of the heated glare he received from the cloaked captain standing behind him, that got him to lighten his grip. He had started this, whether he knew this man was an ally or not, so perhaps Bischofite's actions were more justified than he originally thought? His anger was beginning to quell, little by little, and what fire he once held was beginning to change, no longer fueled by rage, but something else. Something a little more familiar for him, and easier to contain, and his twisted smile had softened a bit, before lightening his fingers to the point that there was no fear of him crushing the seed or ripping it out. Instead, it softened, gently, and the way he brushed his thumb against the starseed was as though he was giving an apologetic stroke to a soft cheek.
"At least, not with such cold fingers..." Buddingtonite added, doing nothing to hide the smallest hint of lust from his deep voice. He kept his hand in there for a little while longer and continued the gentle motions for a moment more, before slowly sliding his hand out. "Let's consider us even, then..."Mica felt like such a fool to have worried for Buddingtonite's safety, and then Bischofite's, and the sudden shift in the red-haired captain's personality made her openly scoff. This man could have killed him, and was he trying to flirt with him? She'd never understand him!
Now, more than ever, she was considering taking General Ilmenite up on his offer, but that would have to wait. Buddingtonite was bleeding, and Bischofite's blow to the head would definitely require some attending, and though she hadn't felt the compulsion to fall back onto old habits in such a long time, she couldn't deny it now. Especially when this would look back on her record. "If you two gentlemen are done, I want to see about getting you both patched up. If you think you two can deal with each other long enough for me to address your wounds?"
Because if they wished to continue fighting, she'd call for backup. Though, if this was going down the path that her hound dog of a roommate wanted it to, then she'd kindly see herself out once more. They were grown men... as frightening as that was.
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Posted: Sat Aug 03, 2013 12:45 pm
When the redheaded captain sought to inflict pain, his investments were met with great returns. Bischofite nearly screamed when the man came close to cracking his starseed, and he quickly considered wrenching Buddingtonite's arm out of his chest. Even if the other captain neglected to relinquish his grip in the process, it would stave off any potential backlash for deeds undone. Death was a reprieve, a form of absolution, and Buddingtonite offered it in spades. Hell, he could choose between the seed splintering throughout his body or die devoid of the damned thing, all with one exceptionally neutral witness.
However, Buddingtonite's grip slackened and Bischofite sounded an admittedly pathetic groan. His chest still ached with the abuse, his head still ached with the sudden impact, and his arm still ached from his trajectory failure. Yet despite all that, his sparring partner thought it a suitable occasion to... what?
No amount of concentration stifled the perplexed glance that crossed Bischofite's features. Was the redhead really hitting on him? As far as he understood, Bischofite wasn't even attractive, but... That didn't mean Buddingtonite suffered from the same fate. Though the man's touch was light, the prior ruthlessness quelled any semblance of satisfaction he might've gotten from it. His pain simply subsided to a dull ache in response. With his gaze cast to the dirt, he muttered a phrase to himself rather than the two captains. "Nur dunkle Dämonen diesen Weg ins Verderben beschreiten.*" He knew the warning well from a thousand different situations, but regardless of its implications, he still chose that path.
Buddingtonite's retraction of his hand produced one last wince before the affair drew to a close.
Though his gaze lingered on Buddingtonite, studying him for the meaning behind his curious change in temperament, he addressed Mica. "I sink I'm fine," came his abrupt response, though he was aware of the extent of his injuries. As such, he never lessened his grasp on the pole. "But if I haf' a concussion, someone might haf' to keep me awake, yes?" He knew it didn't matter, but Buddingtonite could chew on those implications.
He would've powered down for a smoke, but he didn't quite feel comfortable with Mica knowing his identity, especially after what transpired that night. Would Buddingtonite still seek to ambush him, though perhaps in his civilian form? Did he wrong the man before and suffer this as a result? Though, if their convoluted encounter meandered in the direction he suspected, it might not have been such a drawback after all.
But he still needed to smoke, and Mica prevented that. *Only darker demons tread this path to ruin.
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Posted: Mon Aug 05, 2013 9:33 am
Mica felt some of the tension alleviate when Buddingtonite stepped away and allowed the other Captain to breathe. She didn't want to admit that she had felt some shame in allowing this fight to get as far as it did, but both of them would come out of this situation with their lives and what wounds they did have would heal. Still, it was hard to fight down the compulsion to address Bischofite's concussion, but perhaps it would be best that he seek professional help instead. She had been out of practice for far too long now, and she didn't want to risk the chance, however slight it may be, of an officer dying under her watch an care.
"Buddingtonite, you should probably take him to the hospital, just to make absolutely certain you didn't go too far," Mica said, deciding to delegate responsibilities to make up for her inability to physically help them. Surely her roommate could handle something as simple as that. "While you're there, see about getting your shoulder stitched up. I trust that whatever disagreement you two had is settled, correct?"Buddingtonite gave his answer with a bow, using that motion to hide his wince and giving him an excuse to grab his wounded shoulder. "Absolutely," he said, hoping that he was able to hide his pain, now that the adrenaline from the fight was wearing off and reminding him just how deep the chakram went, despite its dull edge. "I don't think either one of us have it in us to continue fighting, at least, not anymore."
He looked to Bischofite, giving him a look as if to say 'am I right' but never once saying it. He didn't need to. He didn't feel like fighting anymore tonight, and he hoped that Bischofite would feel the same. At least, not the kind of fighting that most people would think of. Maybe some tussle under the bedsheets, but for now, their injuries would have to take top priority, and even a hound dog like himself knew it.
"Just a quick trip to the hospital, mein Freund," Buddingtonite said to Bischofite, giving him a rather mischievous grin, doing nothing to hide the smallest sliver of lust that shone in his red eyes. Whether Bischofite understood where he was going would have to wait, as he gave a hand motion to wave Mica off. "I'll keep you updated on our condition, if you're still interested. I appreciate your assistance, as delayed as it may be."
Mica said nothing, giving only a curt nod before simply walking away. He'd most likely see her at the condo later, but in truth, he didn't care. She couldn't have left any sooner, as the moment she was out of sight, she was completely out of mind too, and he gave a rather cheshire-cat grin to his fellow Captain. "Very well then... to the hospital, or perhaps I shall take you to your place instead? I'm no doctor, but I think I can do a good job in keeping you awake."Strickenized Going to call it an end for Mica. Thanks for letting me include her in this. Let me know when you want to call it a wrap between Buddy and Bischofite.
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Posted: Thu Aug 08, 2013 2:44 pm
Bischofite watched Mica with tired indifference while she finished establishing her inferred authority. Despite their parallel ranks, she belted out orders without even considering the notion that they were peers to her. Perhaps it was due to her experiences within the Negaverse, with other fledgeling officers deferring to her authority over matters better left to superiors? He didn't know; it hurt to think about it. Or anything, really, considering he'd recently been clocked in the head with a pathetic boomerang.
With Mica gone, the air cleared. Funny how that worked - one convoluting presence vacates, and everything falls into place with her absence.
The dizziness mostly subsided, so Bischofite left the sanctity of his pole and ventured a few feet forward, testing his nebulous certainty of staying upright. He faltered once, though he instinctively caught hold of Buddingtonite's good shoulder to steady himself. His head still ached with the force of a sledgehammer, but the majority of his other symptoms had faded. It didn't feel like he was in danger; why expend the energy to visit a hospital without any pressing emergencies? Although, the other captain's shoulder bled fairly freely... Surely he didn't want to lose too much blood.
"I'll hold you to your word, Buddingtonite, zat zis hospital trip is quick." He emphasized the captain's name to illustrate his lack of knowledge for the man's real identity. For a moment, he searched the man's face; what was he hiding, apart from his true name? What other secrets did he conceal and play like cards in high-stakes poker? "Your shoulder is as red as your hair. Let's go."
Curiosity spurred him on more than anything, due to Buddingtonite's sudden shift in demeanor and the various lewd hints exchanged in front of Mica. What exactly was the man plotting? Some other means of striking down Bischofite? No - he already exacted his win, didn't he? Thus, he had little reason to pursue the matter.
Something else was up the redhead's sleeve. Surely by playing along with this hospital visit, he might uncover it.
Thus, he elected to forge (unsteadily) the path toward the hospital, ensuring Buddingtonite stayed relatively close behind. Bischofite recognized that the plethora of potholes mixed with dregs of dizziness spelled certain doom; he wasn't about to risk breaking his neck to play along.
"And next time, we'd best fight as a team."
What a strange night.
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