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 Posted: Tue Apr 05, 2011 12:36 am
Let's Make a Deal530 words
Link Mica had always been a bit of a loner. She didn’t mind teaming up, she just never did for any length of time. Sure, she had her Captain, but even then, Mica was used to acting on her own. Didn’t bother her normally. Normally. This wasn’t normal.
Word had reached Mica of the abduction. Wolframite. Tanzanite. How the Senshi had managed to get them, Mica didn’t know, but they had succeeded.
Mica didn’t like to think of Senshi being successful.
Prowling Knocktown, Mica was restless. It was like ants, like ice, like fire, and the more Mica hated the feeling the more she felt it. She didn’t like it; didn’t like the burn, didn’t like to feel impotent. Normally she’d welcome it, this reprieve from numbness, but no. Normally.
Turning towards Heritage Park, she felt no satisfaction in the bum that scrabbled to get out of her way. The fire just burned more, brighter, and Mica couldn’t help but scratch and itch. Drinking hadn’t helped. Dancing – the glorious bass, the writhing bodies – hadn’t helped; her one-track mind couldn’t focus. All else had failed, so she would try fighting. She wanted a Senshi.
Mica had no luck. No Senshi seemed to be in the vicinity. She paced back and forth, lapped the park, but none of the self-righteous bastards appeared. She was ready to leave, to try drugs – a last resort – when she heard the shots in the distance. Someone was running towards her, someone shoved her-
- and they were down. Mica didn’t remember moving, didn’t remember doing it, but the fleeing thug was on his back, out cold. Using her foot, Mica tilted the tattooed head, saw the tattoos, and wanted so badly to smash his face in. More footsteps. Mica turned to face the newcomers, wanting more.
“ You got some nice moves.”
… ?
“ You take karate or something?”
This was unexpected. “ Or something.”
There were three thugs. Obvious, stereotypical thugs: baggy pants and gansta walk. The middle one, the leader, walked up to her.
“ Who you rollin’ with?”
Rolling with? “ No one.”
“ You out in this ‘hood this late, lookin’ that fine, and you ain’t rollin’ with no one? Girl, you must be stupid.”
“ I can take care of myself, remember?” She nodded to the body.
“ Yeah, you right. You handle yo-self and yo business better then my boys handle theirs’. Shot a million bullets and ain’t hit a damn thing.”
“ So?”
“ So? Bullets are noisy, girl. Noisy and expensive, plus they attract cops. Now you, you nice ‘n quiet. Not bad lookin’ either. What you cost?”
Mica got the implication. At first, she was tempted to punch them – like she’d fight for them – but reconsidered.
“ He’s not dead. Dead costs.”
The thug didn’t seem pleased by that answer. He drew a gun and pointed it at her.
“ This get me a discount?”
Mica threw her cane, knocking his aim off, and then was at his side in a flash, hand at his throat, ignoring the two other guns now aimed at her.
“ I let you live, you call off the dogs.”
The man nodded and Mica backed off, the two eyeing each other.
“ I’ll consider it, depending on the target. I’ll want a favor in return too.”
“ Cash and a favor?”
“ You can always handle your business yourself.”
The staring match resumed, and finally the man looked away. “ Fine, deal. How I reach you?”
“ You don’t.” Said Mica shortly. “ I’ll find you.”
“ How? You like Batgirl or somethin’?”
“ Or something.”
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Posted: Fri Apr 15, 2011 2:00 am
 Left Behind637 words
Link
I don’t cry. I’m not sad. Should I be? I probably should; social expectations, or something like that. Just as well I didn’t stay then. I don’t tend to comfort people. Don’t really want to either. If they’re dead, they’re dead. I see no point in tears; they won’t change things, won’t bring them back. Best I leave the crying to those that believe in it.
Have to do something though. Can’t go home, can’t sleep; not now, not yet. I don’t fear nightmares because I don’t have them. Rather, I have them, but can’t remember them. Just wake with a cold sweat and thundering heart. It’s not restful. Indulging helps – alcohol, pills flesh – but I can’t. If I can’t cry to offer comfort, I won’t indulge, not until I do something. Something useful.
I didn’t stick around long. No one asked for help and I didn’t offer. I should’ve though. It’s my duty and I didn’t do it. Nevermind my damned feelings, misplaced feelings – bitter satisfaction, but why? – I should’ve done my job. My supplies are lacking, true, but that’s no excuse. There’s no excuse, really.
I can kill one bird with two stones. I need to make up for my lack, for being remiss. I need more supplies for later. I’ll get what I need, and then some. Won’t be easy though; can’t keep nipping stuff from the hospital. Can’t risk buying too much or I’ll draw attention. Annoying. Damned either way.
Ah. No, there is a solution: that old deal I made. They could get my supplies; robbing is one of their few talents. I wonder what they’d want in return? Would I kill for gauze? Antiseptic and penicillin? No. It’s not an equal trade. I could send a message though, inflict some terror; that’s easy. If I collect some energy too, how are they to know? They’ll accept the offer. They have to, because they have no where else to go. I’ll make sure I’m their only option.
One problem solved, one problem left. I am… unsettled. I lost my head in the maze, when the walls started closing in. Figures I’d crack when it counts most. It bothers me, but it’s not the problem. No, it’s Scheelite. Scheelite, happy Captain Scheelite, who left me to be crushed. First he freaks at the General’s disappearance, leaving it to me and the other Lieutenants to come up with a plan, and then he leaves me behind. He speaks of family, but he abandoned me. Am I not family? A comrade, at least? I wouldn’t have been so quick to leave him. Not then, at least, but I see him now. He may be a Captain, but he’s weak. He’s weak and he’s allowed a team, allowed to spread his weakness.
I don’t get it. I don’t think I want to get it. All I can do is fight it, but not even that. People like Scheelite. He has powerful friends and I’m just one, just a Lieutenant. I need more power. If I could become a Captain, I’d be more useful. My team would just that: a team, not a family. Efficiency does not require family. If I could show them that, maybe they’d see, understand: This is war. Family has no meaning in war.
Don’t know what I’m lacking, but there must be something. Fellow Lieutenants are surpassing me, leaving me behind. I’ll have to get better, study more, train more. I’ll earn that promotion. I will. I refuse to fail at this.
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Posted: Wed May 18, 2011 12:21 am
Featherweight??? words
Link ((Note: Captain art received))
Mica starts working for The Dark Disciples gang, and as a first act she attacks a memeber of the Destiny Lords gang. Sailor Grus appears and makes a nuisance of herself.
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Posted: Sat Jun 18, 2011 8:58 pm
What Lies Behind (ORP)??? Words Link
Nyasa had been shucking out of her work uniform when she felt the tug. Soon enough she found herself standing in a dark cave, surrounded by fellow soldiers, but she was quick to note that Queen Beryl was not in attendance. That seemed unusual.
Soon the General-Queen was speaking, talking about making a choice. For a while, Lieutenant Mica was torn. Queen Beryl was the Queen, but she had seen precious little of her. As for the General-Queen… Mica had seen her in action, yes, and respected her power, but there was no love or friendship there. In the end, Mica went through the door with the rest, but only because she didn’t want to draw attention to herself by not following the General-Queen.
The story that was told was interesting, but unnecessary. To her, “right” and “wrong” were nebulous, and trying to define things as such was useless. All that really mattered was what got you ahead and what got you in trouble, and as far as Mica could tell, these stories of long-ago wars hadn’t affected those parameters yet.
Crossing her arms, Mica’s eyes swept over the castle and the many glowing eyes that stared out from it. Not her cup of tea that creepy thing, not with all the staring eyes and clinging shadows.
Mica was pulled out of her observations by Wolframite’s explosion, which made her eyebrow hitch up. It was amusing to hear bow-boy curse - at the General-Queen no less - so she rather hoped he hadn’t just signed his death warrant.
~*~
An arena for training? Useful. Interesting, even. Better then trial by fire with Senshi, though getting here might be a problem. Was the castle stocked, or would she need to bring her own medical supplies for arena training? She supposed she’d find out in time.
Mica’s attention shifted to Ilmenite, the ingrate; Captain ingrate, a thought that nearly made her scowl. She didn’t like him, so while she didn’t want to see a fellow soldier die, it was no great hardship to her to obey the General-Queen’s orders to wait. And die he did. Wait, no, he wasn’t dead yet. He was getting better, actually.
The words of the newcomer – a General Mica was less familiar with – the ingrate had gotten himself a youma. Didn’t look like a pleasant process, but it seemed fitting.
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Posted: Sun Jun 19, 2011 2:55 pm
Dangerous Territory??? words
Link Mica meets Sailor Arsinoe and mentions the BMC and their misdeeds, which Arsinoe had apparently never heard of.
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Posted: Fri Jun 24, 2011 7:17 pm
[CAMP] Cabin Baneberry??? Words Link Nyasa was not a happy camper. Well, happy staffer. She had somehow been talked into working as a medic at a kid camp. Really, a camp? In the woods? In the heat? With the bugs and sweaty, snotty little kids? She was already regretting her decision and she hadn’t even bandaged any skinned knees yet.
When all the little kiddies were being settled into the camp, she had been conveniently absent. Not like she was needed to corral midgets, not unless one managed to break a leg while running around. Instead she had been holed up in the tiny room that was to serve as her “office,” cleaning up cobwebs. Once it sounded like all the little terrors were safely put up in their cabins, Nyasa figured it was safe to trudge back to the cabin.
The cabin which now had other people in it. Upon entering, Nyasa’s eyes swept over the Senior counselors, and saw that they seemed rather… young. Or perhaps immature would be a better word. Some of the boys looked like the type bound to give her headaches. Still, she supposed she shouldn’t be totally anti-social, seeing as how she was going to be living and working with these people for the foreseeable future.
Nodding her head slightly in a silent acknowledgement and greeting to the others, she vanished to go put up her messenger bag, returning with a bottle of water in one hand and a camp handbook in the other. She had only skimmed the rules and other such nonsense before, so she slouched in an empty chair, intending to wade her way all that boring crap unless given a better distraction.
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Posted: Sun Jun 26, 2011 2:03 am
Work was over. Over and done for the day and Nyasa hurried home; not to a loved one, or good food, or to relax. No, Nyasa was hurrying home from work to do more work. It couldn’t be helped, it had to be done. Nyasa was Mica, Mica was a soldier, and soldiers were tools. She had to be useful, had to know enough to fill a need when called, had to be strong enough to complete a mission when tasked. Had to be.
Slamming her apartment door shut behind her, she dropped her bag by the door and immediately went to turn on her coffee pot. She stopped before pushing the button. She’d last slept, what, twelve hours ago? Yes, and only for two hours. She needed sleep. She needed to, but if she was sleeping then she wasn’t working. Or studying. Or patrolling. Sleep was… inconvenient.
Turning on the pot, Nyasa grabbed one of the dog-eared books from her coffee table and flipped through it. It was a text book, meant to help those studying to become a pharmacy technician, but Nyasa needed it to learn how to dose those that couldn’t go to a hospital. Getting her hands on some of these drugs was a different problem, one she was still working on.
She put the book aside almost eagerly once the coffee was done, pouring herself a cup and drinking it black. She didn’t really care for the bitterness, but she felt it woke her a bit more. She brought the mug and book with her to the sofa, sitting them down and turning on a light. She dragged the conveniently placed calculator closer to her and started working on sample dosage questions.
Minutes passed; ten, twenty. Nyasa’s shoulders slowly drooped, her fingers slowing on the keys of the calculator. At one point she came to a complete stop, her head drooping tiredly. Asleep? Not for long. Nyasa’s head jerked in her sleep, her eyes darting wildly about the room for a moment. Finally they landed on the calculator, flitting from it to the book and back. That screen, so little and insignificant, was taunting her: wrong. She’d gotten an answer wrong. It was so very, very wrong.
In silence, she kept staring at that damning little screen. Then with an abrupt movement she picked up the calculator and hurled it across the room. It hit the wall, fell to the floor – broken, probably – but Nyasa felt no better. She felt worse; wrong. She’d gotten it wrong. That dosage would have killed someone.
She stood and paced. Pacing was good, would get the blood flowing. Blood carried oxygen and would wake up her brain. It should, anyway. Had to. She should sleep - that’s what her body needed – but what about her comrades? What if one showed up on her doorstep now, injured, and she was sleeping? … but what if she overdosed a comrade, killed them? That was no good either. Damned either way.
Stop. This was useless. She couldn’t study because she couldn’t focus. She couldn’t sleep because she hadn’t patrolled yet. Simple solution: patrol. She was making this more difficult then it had to be.
Seconds later Lieutenant Mica flitted out the window and across the rooftops, moving with purpose. She wouldn’t sit and wait for an easy mark, or hope for a Senshi to pass by. Tonight she’d hunt, steal as much energy as she could. She knew how. It was easy in her uniform; degrading, but easy. She’d take degrading, take it over failure any day. If she couldn’t study, then so help her, she would be productive in other ways.
Finding a stray drunk was easy. He saw her seemingly drop from the night skies before his very eyes and greeted her with a leer. She ran a hand down his side and drew back, made him follow her. Down, down the alley they went. She stepped closer and so did her, oh so eager. Large, meaty hands roamed her body, only to hesitate, to slow. Confusion marred the male’s face before he dropped to the ground, struggling to keep his eyes open.
Mica stepped on his protruding stomach as walked over him, tiny orb gleaming dully in the light. Easy. Successful. The night was looking up. Shame she was so tired. Having to endure those nasty hands hadn’t helped. Maybe…
Pale blue-green eyed the orb thoughtfully. She’d never consumed one before. She’d had her chances, sure, but thought eating them a sign of weakness. Even when given one after a battle in Elysion, she hadn’t eaten them; she’d given it to Scheelite, which she now regretted. But it helped them. The energy helped them, and officers ate them with some frequency. As long as the quotas were met, it didn’t matter. Shouldn’t anyway, though she’d have to collect even more to make up for it. Couldn’t collect any if she was asleep though, now could she?
That settled it. Mica raised the orb and prepared to pop it in her mouth, not noticing the incoming punch until it caught her under the chin.
“ Negaverse scum!”
Hadn’t seen that one coming. Should have. She should have sensed it too. A Senshi had snuck up on her, snuck up on her and made her loose the energy orb. Where was it?
“ Looking for this?”
The Senshi had it. Well of course the Senshi had it; that’s how life worked. Mica lunged for it, but she was too slow, too sluggish, and the Senshi twisted out of the way, driving an elbow into Mica’s back, driving her into the ground.
“ Pathetic.”
There was an odd ringing in her ears. Pathetic? Pathetic…
As Mica went still, the Senshi did too, inspecting her. A white-gloved hand slapped the dark face, retreating when the eyes didn’t open. The Senshi was the good guy though, wouldn’t get her gloves dirty, and left dark agent’s still body as they retreated to go check on the unfortunate civilian.
Mica was up. She was up, she was shaking, and her ears were ringing, ringing. She reached and grabbed and a tug-of war ensued. Mica stepped, kicked, and the Senshi howled; victory. The orb was snatched as it fell to the ground, but then the Senshi fell on Mica. They struggled, fingers prying and teeth gnashing. A cane appeared, orange topper flashing as a blow was struck. And another. And another. The Senshi was rolled off and another blow struck. She tried to stagger away, but Mica staggered after, caught her around the neck with her cane. The so-tough girl fought as Mica held her close, fought until she had no fight left in her, until she slid to the ground with dull, glassy eyes.
The Senshi slid down and Mica let her. Let her drop like a pile of dung. Didn’t realize until it was too late that the Senshi still had the energy orb. The lifeless sack of flesh hit the ground, hand smacking the cement, and Mica could see the tiny wisp of energy as the orb broke.
Pathetic.
The next day, over half a dozen men struggled to wake up. Wallets were reported stolen and vague reports were filed. For Destiny City, it was just a normal day. People went about their business, and if a certain dark-skinned EMT looked worse for the wear, well, that was normal too.
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Posted: Mon Jun 27, 2011 10:13 pm
Pimp My Hide946 Words Link Promotion Rp. Introducing Captain Mica!
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Posted: Tue Jul 05, 2011 7:01 pm
Lieutenant Mica is promoted to Captain.
Start Rps towards General growth.
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Posted: Tue Jul 05, 2011 7:03 pm
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Posted: Wed Jul 20, 2011 11:21 pm
Punch First, Ask Later??? Words Link Captain Mica meets Eternal Sailor Chaonis; stabbing ensues.
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Posted: Sat Jul 23, 2011 10:36 pm
Assistance is Futile??? Words Link
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Posted: Fri Aug 05, 2011 11:53 am
In The Swing of Things? words
Link Captain Mica’s promotion was new, and like some new things, it felt weird. In her civilian life she had rarely been in a position of power unless she was wrist-deep in someone’s life blood, but such was not the case of the Negaverse. Despite her brief period of service, she had already obtained a level of respect that she had never had in her civilian life. It was… nice.
Mica had spent the last couple of nights trying to get used to her new rank. The uniform was perhaps the biggest change. Her outfit now included shiny, dangly bracelets and anklets, and while pretty they were impractical, so she ripped them off when she powered up. Of course, they just reappeared the next time, but she tried. She could think of at least one Senshi that could use metal to their advantage.
Speaking of metal, Mica’s pimp cane was a thing of the past, replaced by a metal spear tipped with a pointy incarnation of the Amber Crystal. She was grateful that she had a weapon less likely to splinter, and pleased to have something to stab Senshi with, but it was metal, which meant that scantily-clad dark-skinned Senshi could be a problem. Mica had no desire to ever have to explain how she lost the Amber Crystal because some white-haired b***h had magicked it out of her hands. No, so she’d just have to figure out how to prevent that from happening.
Meanwhile, Mica had been playing with some of the more obvious perks of being a Captain. She discovered that she could collect more energy in a couple of hours then she used to in a whole night. Guns and knives still made for unpleasant encounters, but her increased speed and agility diminished their threat somewhat, especially since they were usually wielded by the less-then-competent. And on a less serious note, Mica was quite fond of her uniform’s new hood.
Crossing the roof, Mica peered down to the street below to look for potential victims. She spied an old man sitting on the curb, head drooping and posture weary. There was some sort of bug going around – whether real or magical she didn’t know – and while she suffered from it occasionally, she had found it more of a help then a hindrance. After all, tired people made for much easier targets.
Dropping to the ground, Mica walked up behind the guy, keeping her hood up and body angled away, but the man was so tired that he didn’t notice. Mica leaned up against the fence and pretended to fiddle with something as she slowly drained the man’s remaining energy, watching as he slumped more and more. Finally the man fell over and Mica turned to leave, only to get whacked in the face with a heavy purse.
“You killer!” Cried a shrill, reedy voice. “ What did ya’ do to my Georgey?”
“ I didn’t touch him.” Mica snapped, looking at the old lady. It was true too, because she hadn’t touched the man.
“ Don’t lie to me! You killed George!” If the woman kept shrieking she was sure to draw attention. “ Georgey was alive, then he died, ans-”
The woman was cut off by a swift punch to her stomach which winded her. Mica had no desire to listen to her shrieks. She instead quickly drained the old woman and stole her purse; fitting, she thought, since the hag had the gall to swing a purse at a Captain.
The tale of this particular encounter was one that Mica would never tell.
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Posted: Sun Aug 28, 2011 8:21 pm
Feather Butts and Magic Brats??? Words Link Another encounter with Eternal Sailor Iris. Iris is saved from a stab when Chibi Sailor Egeria appears.
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Posted: Tue Aug 30, 2011 10:39 pm
General Zinkenite appears at Nyasa's apartment in civilian form and proposes that Nyasa/Mica teach some medic classes to their comrades. Nyasa agrees.
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