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 Posted: Thu Apr 21, 2011 11:50 pm
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Posted: Sun May 01, 2011 5:02 pm
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Posted: Sun May 01, 2011 5:04 pm
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Posted: Tue May 03, 2011 10:38 pm
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Posted: Tue May 03, 2011 10:40 pm
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Posted: Sun May 08, 2011 7:38 pm
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Posted: Thu May 19, 2011 10:19 pm
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Posted: Mon May 23, 2011 3:18 pm
Utility
SOLO ~ Marcella alone
Asclepius just about made it home before she started crying. What Nemesis had told her was more than upsetting, primarily because the junior senshi knew that she was right. The Senshi of Medicine had survived thus far on luck alone. She had run into precious few actual agents of the negaverse, and when she did, she had, with one exception, managed to hold her own well enough. Or they had not even felt like fighting.
Really, though, she was no combatant. Asclepius was fit but not strong or agile. She had never really done sports, and certainly no martial arts. None of it had ever interested her, and it still didn't.
And yet she had been given some role to play in a giant ancient war that had nothing to do with her, other than that it was putting more and more people around her into the hospital.
Asclepius sniffled and glowered at her reflection in her floor-length mirror, dressed as she was in her seifuku of flowing white and grey skirts with blue ribbons. Certainly no war uniform. And to think she had been so relieved that her power worked so well with her personality.
With a growl of frustration, the girl powered down to her medical scrubs that she had been wearing before she had decided to henshin up. If the powers that be had asked her to care for every soul that came into that hospital, she would have been willing to do that. Marcella was studying medicine for a reason. She wanted to help people. And it seemed all the more every day that her city needed the help.
But no! The world didn't want that kind of help! It took a doctor, gave her the senshi power of medicine, and stuck her in the middle of a war to kill people.
Marcella flung her henshin pen across the room, where it caught in a dress hanging up on the wall, and dropped down behind her ******** that. She didn't care if she ever found it again. All of this was not worth the effort of dragging the piece of furniture out to crawl behind it to retrieve the magical item.
The girl sank to her knees, burying her face in her hands and sobbing. She would be more useful this way anyway. It was not that she did not take the war seriously - on the contrary, she took it seriously enough that she knew she could not do what was apparently expected of her. The aspiring doctor knew she could not kill, or torture, to drag down the Negaverse until-- what? Until they finally gave up?
Apparently neither side had given up in the last dozen centuries. How would a handful of teenagers be able to sort things out now? Marcella sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve, then clenched her hands into fists. There had to be some other way to end this war, if fighting had not worked thus far, or that was what the brown-haired girl would have loved to think, but apparently that was all naiveté. Nemesis had the experience, so she should know. Little Asclepius was a fool who thought that there was any place for those who just wanted to help people.
Things would be better this way, and easier. She could play the role of a plain, ignorant human nurse, patching up those who had been injured by forces natural or supernatural. It was what Destiny City had done all along, wasn't it? Picking up and moving on? There would be no Asclepius on the battlefield to get in the way, or to distract the real soldiers with medical treatment or hope of some better solution. She could try to live out her life as well as she could - as she had before, really - finishing her medical studies and doing what she knew she could do.
It was difficult, Marcella realized, to turn away from that pen, to leave it lying there behind her dresser. It still was a part of her, even if it was one she presently despised. Responsibilities bestowed by talking cats were responsibilities nonetheless. But she made herself get up, turn away, and move on with her evening. Leave the war to the warriors. To those of her peers who could fight and kill each other. Marcella was no fighter.
She could never be Nemesis, and she never wanted to become Nemesis. That was about the only thing that permitted the girl to sleep that night.
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Posted: Mon May 23, 2011 3:20 pm
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Posted: Mon May 23, 2011 3:21 pm
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Posted: Mon May 23, 2011 11:29 pm
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Posted: Mon May 23, 2011 11:30 pm
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Posted: Tue May 24, 2011 2:35 pm
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Posted: Wed May 25, 2011 1:58 pm
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Posted: Wed May 25, 2011 1:59 pm
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