She took an involentary breath when the blonde moved his boot, only to cringe at its new placement. "Ow." She spat, hissing when he pushed harder down. The hiss turned into a snarl as the other senshi grabbed her hair and tugged. "The last one to do that? The guy in the bear trap." Lellouch coughed out. "Why in ******** would I tell you his name? It's you're problem not mine. Just because I know them doesn't mean I work with them."
Ivynian
Die Fluegel der Freiheit
Posted: Thu Jan 30, 2014 10:14 pm
Penthesilea kept her grip on the girl's hair, Thraen momentarily forgotten in a bloody haze of potential revenge upon Damocles for her utter humiliation at his hands. Perhaps one day she would learn to separate her vendettas from her work, but today was not that day.
She grabbed the Corrupt's wrist and started twisting, her grin never changing. "Well, because if ya don't, I'll probably just let ya die. Or just start breaking pieces of ya. And I don't see any bear traps here - if anything, I'd say you're the one trapped." She was perhaps delighting in this too much.
Alright, so she was delighting in this far too much. Even if she got no names, returning this pretty blonde - a sister, a cousin? She'd admitted to being family - to Damocles beaten and broken would be an excellent first step.
This is distasteful. Thraen scowled, watching the sick play of interest and delight in War's demeanor and expression. "Enough."
" If you will not keep to your virtues, then I will keep them." The Senshi of Gardens shifted down his weight in less than a blink, a grim nightmare crouched on the chest of to-be sleeping maid, and wrapped hands swiftly around the lithe, blue-black choker wound throat. He did not hesitate to immediate clamp to crush.
[Mistress Morbid]
Die Fluegel der Freiheit
Posted: Mon Feb 03, 2014 7:48 pm
Pain blossomed in her hand and Lellouch found she couldn't stop from crying out as Pen began twisting her wrist. ********, that would hurt tomorrow. The blonde tried to flail and jerk her hand away but that proved impossible, and worse- was that a pop she had just heard, as Thraen leaned down, adding even more pressure on her chest, she was sure something had just cracked and was pretty positive it wasn't the office supplies she was currently thrown on. All hand jerking stopped the second Thraen's hands closed around her neck though. She coughed a few times as his grip grew tighter. She'd have to something quick or it would be lights out. <********. You." She wheezed at the blonde, before she jerked her knee up and aimed for his lower back.
"Thraen." Penthesilea's voice was sharp, commanding - the sort of tone she usually took when she was commanding a squad in a war game. She released her grip on Lellouch's wrist and stood, twisting her fingers in the back of his fuku and pulling.
"Thraen! I want this one alive," she said sharply, and she yanked as hard as she could. Reasons would come later, an explanation, perhaps, of the humiliation she's suffered at the hands of this Senshi's...brother, perhaps? They looked similar in age.
No matter. She was family to Damocles, and Penthesilea wanted Damocles to suffer. So even as she tried to keep Thraen from murdering her, she stomped down on Lellouch's wrist, to finish snapping it.
Ivynian
[Mistress Morbid]
Posted: Tue Feb 04, 2014 10:55 am
Getting hauled back from the girl was an unfortunately not-new experience. He knew where this was going.
Where it had gone more than once now. Where it had gone with eternal senshi before this ...girl. He had a choice.
Kill them both? Traitor and enemy alike. Bold to give orders, or to dare, and yet with neither authority, purpose or wisdom to see out her whims. Getting pulled backwards by his uniform wouldn't alone have released the girl from his hands, whatever War was hoping for- but he acquiesced, opening his hands to let the corrupted fall as she may.
"You want." He knocked Penthesilea from himself. "You want."
"As ease to say what my desire, but I do not impose it on you as though to order you. 'I'd kill an enemy for being an enemy', you said to me once. Yet here you fail the test. Self-interested and capricious as a child on playground instead of battlefield. You are nothing of War, you are a Pique. " He shifted from arms reach. "Be mastered then, by your want."
There was still that desire, to call the vines to rope them both. Penthe would not know that magic any better than the one-eyed general had. But killing his own, as willing as they were to cast on him, was not yet a boundary of morality he wished to cross. Fratricide was an old law and instrinct based in good reason- who killed brothers had none at all. But this is three. What allies do I have, after all. None. Even this, who turns out has lied through bravado teeth. I will have to consider it more seriously.
[Mistress Morbid]
Die Fluegel der Freiheit
Ivynian
Cat
Offline
[Mistress Morbid]
Trash
Offline
Posted: Tue Feb 04, 2014 12:17 pm
When Pen drove her metal heel down on her wrist, Lellouch cried out in pain. Or atleast, as much of a cry as she could give when Thraen was crushing both her throat and her chest. And when the weight and pressure were suddenly lifted, she began to cough furiously. She rolled over, her good hand moving to her throat where she swore she could feel the indentations caused by his fingers. As the coughing died down some she glanced back over her shoulder, gaze flickering between the two as they bickered. And she wondered for a moment just who was in charge, and who it was she should really keep an eye on.
Penthesilea seemed to be all bark with little bite. And Thraen? ...Well Thraen had the bite. She knew that much.
Ivynian
Die Fluegel der Freiheit
Posted: Tue Feb 04, 2014 2:19 pm
Penthesilea growled, like some kind of very angry caged animal, and her hands curled into fists.
"Penthesilea Call to Arms." Rather than address her 'partner's' concerns with words, she chose action, chose to call on the blood-red sword of her magic, because this had gone on long enough for it to have reasonable strength. For a moment it looked as if she might swing it at Thraen, strike the only person who had come even close to tapping into her ideals - but she turned and swung instead at the crippled Corrupt, a blaze of red light aiming to strike her target, to death or simply unconsciousness she no longer cared.
"I was stupid to think of revenge first." She acknowledged, and then she turned away from the battle, fingers flexing into and out of a fist. "No matter how much I want that b*****d to suffer for humiliating me with that damn magic of his." And then she exhaled and walked back to the broken window she had first knocked Lellouch through, glass crackling under her feet.
Sailor Scout Attack: Penthesilea Call to Arms! Penthesilea folds her hands in front of her as if she were praying and closes her eyes, speaking the name of the attack. Upon the last word, she opens her eyes and reaches out, and a longsword made of red energy appears in her hand. She slashes it towards one target within six feet of her and red energy flies from the blade towards the target. The force with which it strikes depends on how long the battle has been going on, from a slight smack to enough to knock someone off their feet or knock the wind out of them. Penthesilea can use this attack twice per battle.
"Defeat is no shame. To not grow stronger, to learn better, faster...that is the shame." He offered, less venom to the words. That old wisdom, yet it feels more right to say of that which does not kill us that it makes us stranger, not stronger.
He faced the possibility of her attack without visible concern- expression stone except for flame-coloured eyes alive behind his pale lashes. He had accepted other wounds in other battles and from greater sources. He woudl accept wound from her, or magic. If she struck at him, the choice was made. She didn't, and he found the sudden absence of the tension and crushing disappointment to be something akin to pleasure.
She was no longer trustworthy, but she wasn't completely traitor. Her instinct was intact as his own- they would not tear each other apart that way and not in that moment. He turned his attention, unlike War, not to the window. He looked at the Corrupted for the effect of the magic- if she stayed conscious or even alive. He had given her to Penthesilea, and he would not go back on that for now. If she lived, she should count it a blessing. "We're done here."
It was all that was necessary to relay, so he started out into air, the street, the city.
[Mistress Morbid]
Die Fluegel der Freiheit
Posted: Tue Feb 04, 2014 5:07 pm
Lellouch squawked when the attack hit her, honestly not expecting it. She hissed, curling in on herself before before rolling over on to her back again. She waited, listening as they left. Saying and doing nothing more then trying to gulp down a few breathes of air. Eventually she sat up, the only noise coming from the air as it whistled against the broken glass and broken furniture and god knows what else shifting beneath her.
'That had gone over well.' She thought to herself before slowly pushing herself up to the best of her ability. Her body throbbed and ached. The senshi moved slowly, careful not to trip and stumble, thus adding more injury to himself.
Poking her head out the broken window, Lellouch checked around before climbing out. "Okay. Mental note, never do that again." She groused, as she hobbled home.
Too bad it was the opposite direction then the one Penthesilea wanted.
![[Mistress Morbid]'s avatar](https://a1cdn.gaiaonline.com/dress-up/avatar/ava/3e/dd/5052589139dd3e_flip.png?t=1545372613_6.00_11)
Reply
