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 Posted: Sat Aug 31, 2013 5:55 pm
She didn’t necessarily believe that she was right all the time. Theoretically, it just wasn’t possible for one single person to be right all of the time. She was human, despite what she wanted others to believe, and she was a human that unfortunately had enough time in medical training to know that when someone was in need, she could not walk away from them. Unless they were a Senshi or Knight, in which case she would have been more than happy to put them out of their misery.
What stumbled across her path was a wounded lieutenant, not one that she immediately recognized, but his attire and code of arms was clear as day to see, even to her civilian eye. More important than that, the wound he suffered and the blood that seeped out of that wound drew her attention more, and Nyasa didn’t once hesitate. Even when the lieutenant looked up at her and reached, either begging for help or trying to drain her energy if he thought it would save him, she was thinking of all the necessary steps to take to dress the wound and get him to a hospital.
There was no one else in the streets, and any fear of being caught transforming simply did not cross her mind, as she threw caution to the wind. It only took a moment for Nyasa to become Mica, and just in time as she was able to catch him before he hit the filthy pavement. There was no fear in her voice, and whatever warmth that might have been there was forced, to keep the injured lieutenant from panicking and making his wound and matter worse. “I have you now, calm down. I’m going to take care of you.”
He was trying to speak, but she could tell that his body was going into shock, and she silenced his pathetic attempts to talk, pulling him into the alley he had emerged from and trying to keep him and herself out of prying eyes. There was no one on the streets, yet, but it just wasn’t worth the risk. “You can trust me. I’m an EMT.”
She conveniently left out the ‘former’ or ‘used to be’ part, figuring that it wouldn’t do much to instow faith in him. This seemed to calm him down slightly, just enough so that she could do her work without having him clawing at her and screaming. She wasn’t sure what had caused the wound, or who had inflicted the poor lieutenant, but truthfully she didn’t care. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting the wound wrapped up and taking him to the hospital, where the real doctors could help him. Out here, she was without tools or supplies, and no amount of kind words would be enough to keep the patient calm. She pulled off her hood and rested it on top of the the lieutenant’s face, and she abused her rank in hopes of cutting through that fear and rising panic she saw, as she said sharply, “Power down. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. This wound won’t kill you, and your identity will be safe with me.”
Whether it was the hood or her promise that got through to him, it was uncertain, but he obeyed without question, and she remained in her powered state, as she worked on dressing the wound as swiftly as possible and lifting him into her arms. She wished she could have done more for him, and maybe she could have, but for now, she’d have to leave him in the hands of the trained professionals… and not the one that flaked out. She allowed none of this doubt to be seen or heard, as her voice was strong and steady. At least the ability to remain calm and level-headed during emergencies had not escaped her memory. “You’re going to be alright now. You’re in good hands.”
((Word Count: 733))
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Posted: Sat Aug 31, 2013 6:55 pm
All she wanted was relief, and apparently, so did her roommate. Only his way of finding relief from the summer heat involved allowing an extra 98 degrees into his bed. She wasn’t a prude, and she was fine with Richard bringing home whatever slank he could trick into getting under the sheets with him, but it simply blew her mind that he could tolerate the heat so much that he was eager to play a few rounds of roll in the hay. Never underestimate the sex drive of a perverted red head, she told herself, as she tried to roll over to her side and tried to go back to sleep, hoping that they could at least offer some white noise to assist in that endeavor. The one night where all she wanted to do was sleep in and it would figure that Destiny City itself was working against her.
She had managed to feel herself slipping away when a strange noise caught her ear. Richard had screamed. No big deal, normally- that’s just how he got into the game. But this scream was different. There was no joy, no relief in it. It was strangled, and it didn’t stop. “... the ******** wasn’t sure what possessed her to grab a shirt and flee the room instead of simply powering up- that would have been quicker and might have helped whatever the hell was going on in the room up the stairs, but she was running on pure adrenaline by this point. She didn’t even remember going up the stairs and Baldwin’s obsessive scratching stopped, only to be replaced by her slamming her fists on the door. “Richard! Richard, open the door, right now!”
Nyasa didn’t mean to let her fear be heard, and she could always worry about restoring her strong image after she was certain that Richard was safe. Something was happening behind the doors, as she heard feet stomping and items being flung about, and she reached for the doorknob, despite knowing that it’d be locked and was preparing to slam her shoulder against it, when it suddenly flung open to reveal a half dressed woman, panic and fear evident in her eyes and a little blood on her lips as she rushed past Nyasa and Baldwin. The Irish wolfhound slunk into the room immediately, looking for his master, and Nyasa turned her head to watch the woman try to flee, tripping on her own feet and sending her tumbling down the stairs. The EMT in Nyasa winced when she swore she heard a bone snap, and her shrieks intrigued her. “He’s crazy! Absolutely crazy!”
’Richard? Crazy? Tell me something I don’t know.’ Nyasa thought to herself before looking into the room, and it didn’t take her long to find him. Baldwin was laying on the ground, half his body covered by the bed, which led her to believe that he was sitting on the floor on the other side of the bed, just out of sight. She dared venture into the room, her bare feet stepping in something wet but warm, and she assumed it to be blood, and the shrieking banshee in the living room could wait, as she called into the bedroom. “Richard. Are you alright? Are you bleeding?”
His reply was listless, nothing at all like the scream she heard earlier, and almost immediately, her fears were quelled. “No. It’s hers… I… tried touching her starseed.”
“... did you remember to power up?”
He didn’t reply. He didn’t need to. She already knew the answer, and she gave a shake of her head, before looking back towards the living room. “You want me to finish the job?”
“Could you? I’d do it myself, but… I think one failure is enough for tonight. Just going to sit here… until the swelling stops.”
It was incredibly easy not to laugh at the poor man’s dismay, and he didn’t need to tell her anymore. The woman had defended herself and it was no question where she struck, and only when she had pulled the door close did she take the moment to transform. It wasn’t often that she had to clean up Richard’s messes, but Captain Mica was willing. The woman had just barely made it to the door when Mica leapt from the top of the staircase and landed next to her, and she almost admired the woman’s bravery. Her ankle was broken and her tongue was swollen from where she bit herself, but she was willing to continue struggling, and it was a pity that Mica had no interest in corrupting this one.
Perhaps Richard had? Whatever his original intention was, either taking her starseed or pushing for a corruption, it was no longer an option on the table, and Mica was willing to give the woman a quick demise… if it was at all possible, anyway.
The woman didn’t suffer for long, and for all her vigor, her starseed was relatively pathetic to look at. Maybe she’d give it to Richard anyway? Put it on a tray with an ice pack and a shot of bourbon to make the sting of his failure hurt a little less, but she couldn’t help but ponder…
What would have driven a Negaverse officer to try ripping a starseed when they were not transformed? Had he simply forgot, or was it something deeper? “I think you’re starting to lose it, friend.”
((Word Count: 1083))
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Posted: Sat Aug 31, 2013 7:22 pm
But she tried. With every twist and turn of the toymaker’s orb that she found herself in, she pushed against its tilting and resisted with all her might. She once believed that she could withstand anything, could find a way to adapt to every situation she found herself in. But in the end, she was only really fooling herself, and she could no longer deny it. Times had changed, and now, so would she.
Things had been getting a little crazy, and Nyasa Freeman felt that it was time to pack what meager belongings she had left, and just go. And it wasn’t necessarily due to any irrational hatred or disgust with her roommate, a man she once considered killing in his sleep when he had simply pushed her buttons too hard.
No, he had changed, though she wasn’t certain if it was for better or for worse. As far as a Negaverse agent, Captain Buddingtonite was truly coming into his own, and had she not been a cold and callous ice queen, she would have been very proud of him, maybe even willing to admit it. He kept a tight schedule and he was willing to put in the hours needed to show his dedication, gathering ample enough energy and starseeds on his own. And he was even preparing himself for future recruiting ‘seminars’, so in a sense of Buddingtonite, she could not want anymore out of him.
But Richard Moreau… was starting to scare her. He had changed, and it was that change that made her consider Ilmenite’s offer once more. Not simply the ‘get along with your fellow officers’ part, but the part he mentioned about the apartments, and she had spent most of the day punching away numbers and shifting through one job application after the other, preparing herself for the possibility that she’d finally be able to regain her much desired independence once more. Even if it was nothing more than a bedroom with a pathetic excuse for a kitchen and a half bathroom, it was something. It wouldn’t have been the first time she bathed in a sink.
And by the end of the day, just moments before her roommate came slinking into the apartment with a half-hearted ‘home’, she found her ticket. She had more than enough to last a few months until she found a job.
“Thank you,” she said, cupping her hands together and praying as though she were addressing her lord and savior himself. “Thank you, Ilmenite…”
((Word Count: 524))
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Posted: Sat Aug 31, 2013 7:44 pm
She felt… almost uncharacteristically optimistic as she packed away her belongings, gaining Baldwin’s interest as the Irish wolfhound sat at the doorway, peering in but knowing not to enter. He stretched his long neck as far as it could go, and she decided not to shoo him away for once. After all, he had every right to be curious. She had been his constant companion while his owner was away and had saved him from the evil monster known as the vacuum cleaner and the beast that wielded it, so it only made sense that he’d be nosing in on her affairs.
Perhaps he sensed that she was in a good mood and wanted in on it? Or perhaps he knew something that his master did not know? Baldwin was intelligent, or at least as intelligent as a dog living under the Moreau condo could manage to be, so it wouldn’t have surprised her in the least that he was looking at the boxes and suitcase and knowing full well what was going on.
When Richard returned from work, whatever ungodly time that’d be, Nyasa Freeman would be gone. There would be no hide or hair of her to be seen around the apartment and the only one that would greet him would be the ever faithful Baldwin, and Nyasa was surprisingly okay with this. She thought about telling him, but every chance she had was shot down by one strange occurrence after the other. She wanted to hold a surprise party for him, but she had no funds to even consider it, and given the kind of man that Richard was becoming, he wouldn’t take kindly to her wasting anymore of his precious bourbon, as well as having to clean up the mess (if one assumed he forgot to pay the maid again as his civilian duties were slipping). No, all she would leave him is a note, in which she was taking a little too much joy in writing right now.
‘To my most gracious host,
I’m leaving. Don’t ask about me, because I’ll likely see you at the next meeting. Get your s**t together, or I will allow your psychopath of a boyfriend rend you asunder, and I am really looking forward to extracting my revenge.
Hugs and kisses,
A Free b***h.’
((Word count: 484))
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Posted: Fri Oct 25, 2013 9:09 am
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Posted: Fri Oct 25, 2013 9:11 am
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Posted: Fri Oct 25, 2013 9:13 am
((For your listening pleasure >>> Link)) The night club's music blared and the flashing lights did little to distract Nyasa Freeman from the figure that all but stormed into the club, though by looking at her, one wouldn't have pegged her to be the caring type. She didn't care if there was another lady on the premise that was as stunning as her, or had better moves than she did, better class and style. It wasn't something she cared about, and if she did, it was an easy fix as their starseed was always ripe for the taking. But Nyasa wasn't that petty. All she wanted was to get lost in the music and have a good time, and there was plenty of enough room in this club for everyone to get what they wanted.
However, tonight, she was willing to make an exception, and though she continued to sway and dance, her gaze caught sight of what was apparently herself, as General Mica, weapon in hand and so dark that she threatened to disappear within the surroundings had it not been for the rapidly flashing lights. She was hardly surprised, and she kept on dancing, even as cold, but never unfamiliar turquoise eyes scanned the night club. Nyasa wasn't a fool, and nor would she be a pushover. This was her shade, and her shade had made a grave mistake looking for her here. Of all of the night clubs for them to have a final showdown, she chose the one that Nyasa knew best, inside and out, and she also knew the owner of this establishment, inside and out. He looked towards the Negaverse general that arrived and wised up, motioning to security and immediately working on clearing a path for the true bornagain field medic. While this club and the night was hers, Nyasa had little interest in revealing her true identity to the other dancers this evening, nor her shade that stepped onto the dance floor and pushed people aside with little to no effort.
The Mica doppelganger was looking for a fight, and she'd get it. The sequence of lights altered but it hardly pulled the predator away from her hunt, but it did distract her from the spear blade that was aimed for her chest. As Mica, the true General Mica, anticipated, her shade had managed to dodge the blow, and the sound of clashing metal rang out throughout the dance floor over the heavy bass and shrilled music, alerting the other dancers to clear the way immediately. Mica was expecting a rough fight from her doppelganger and would have been disappointed to leave this encounter with only a few cuts and bruises, and yet, it appeared that her element of surprise was enough to fool her shade. It had only taken a few swings before her shade suffered a wound that sent her staggering backwards, and never one to not take an opening to go for the kill, Mica plunged her blade deem within the shade's chest and bullrushed forward, acting as a lance and thrusting her screaming shade right out the door.
This particular night club was one of Mica's favorites, as it was located on one of Destiny City's heighest buildings, and there was only one suiting demise she could think of for one that dared tried to take her identity and then her life. The wind from this height teased her cloak and pulled from of her hair from her carefully styled bun, but it did little to distract her from her assault. He lodged the shade free from her blade, not once caring if her blood would stain either her weapon or her clothes, and she hefted the skewered but struggling doppelganger over her head, just a stone's throw from the building's edge. It was a long ways down, and while she was certain that her shade possessed the ability to teleport, she wasn't necessarily going for the kill.
She was making a statement. And that statement brought an almost uncharacteristic grin to her face, as she gave a firm shout before throwing the doppelganger over the side. "This may seem a little cliche, but... there can be only one."
And down she went. Mica should have stayed to see the impact and see if it would have been enough to kill her, and yet, it was hard for her to care. If this shade of hers was truly as strong as her and felt itself worthy of taking her place, then she'd have to try a little harder then that to get the job done. Needless to say, Mica was disappointed, and she was content to simply power down and drown that disappointment away with a rhythmic beat and maybe a few drinks... ((Word Count: 789))
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