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Posted: Wed Dec 30, 2009 1:34 am
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Posted: Wed Dec 30, 2009 1:35 am
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Posted: Wed Dec 30, 2009 1:36 am
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Posted: Wed Jan 06, 2010 6:38 pm
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Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2010 6:24 pm
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Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2010 6:25 pm
[REGULAR] #22[]Danananananah~ CAPTAAAAAIN~ (Drew + Audrey)
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Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2010 6:56 pm
[BATTLE] #15Dark Moon (Obsidian vs. Moonstone)
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Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2010 6:57 pm
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Posted: Sat Jan 30, 2010 11:31 am
[SOLO] #14 In Too Deep 504 words
Andrew Collins wasn’t a man who particularly cared about social norms or the like. He didn’t care about what was acceptable in this modern day and age, or about rules and regulations. Still, he followed them without protest, maintaining his simple civilian life without too much spice thrown into the mix to draw attention to himself.
Obsidian was a whole different story.
The wolf slid off its sheepskin during the night, prowling about and snapping up whoever wasn’t wise enough to stay out of the shadows when the sun went down. It was a whole different form for him, a different lifestyle, and his orders were simple; kill or be killed. Survival of the fittest. You wanted power? You had to earn it, and that meant eliminating potential competition.
It was nothing personal, really. He didn’t think of himself as a murderer, not really. He enjoyed it, of course he enjoyed it, but he never considered the blood that stained his hands to be anything human.
Maybe it’d been a coping mechanism, at first. Now it was a ritual so ingrained into his system that he started to get agitated whenever he missed an opportunity to steal a life under the name of Obsidian.
And that was where all his troubles were, currently. He’d been reflecting on that encounter with Moonstone, how tempted he’d been to slice her dark throat and impale her head on someone’s fence post—sort of like a nice surprise to discover in the morning.
Normally, it wouldn’t have mattered. Normally, he wouldn’t have cared. But he was a Captain now, and the words of his Queen still rang so sharply in his ears. To say he was concerned was an understatement.
What would happen, should the Lieutenant choose to report him for his... overly enthusiastic behavior towards her assault? She’d been out of line, this was true, but his own lack of control was something that didn’t sit well with Obsidian. None of it did. It’d never been something he’d had to consider before, but he was in a position of leadership now.
And if the Negaverse fell into disarray, members murdering each other left and right, there’d be nothing of it left before long.
He needed to talk to Ursula, no matter how much the thought made him bare his teeth with distaste. He didn’t know how to do this, how to lead these little shits without losing his temper and tearing off their jaws to make sure they stayed quiet for good. And if he couldn’t do that, would that be the end to his ascension in power?
He sure as hell wasn’t going to find out the hard way. If it meant swallowing his pride, he’d do it, there was no hesitation. He’d give it a few days, mull over his approach and exactly what he wanted to say. Still, the longer he waited... Well, if Moonstone talked, he’d be sure to get to her first.
She’d be taken care of, one way or another. Personally.
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Posted: Sat Jan 30, 2010 11:32 am
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Posted: Fri Feb 05, 2010 9:36 pm
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Posted: Fri Feb 05, 2010 9:38 pm
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Posted: Fri Feb 12, 2010 5:34 pm
[SOLO] #15 Well Then 483 words
He had a lot to think about it, after that whole incident in the park. Senshi, soft-hearted Lieutenants, and strange things that hissed in the night. No, despite Uranophane’s indignation at his lack of concern, Obsidian had been careful to note that the flower beast had been anything but a youma.
The Captain shouldered his way into his apartment having powered down before entering the complex. He was more or less drained, debated a shower, and settled for pacing in slow and steady circles around the place, weaving through the kitchen as though to better help stimulate his thoughts.
Monsters that sucked the life out of humans, and strange, giggling girls... He smelled a rat in Destiny City. It was something that needed to be looked into, if not reported outright, but that could very well wait. What was more intriguing to him was Uranophane’s obsession with a girl who was supposed to be dead. Quite dead, in fact. Was this something like the Zodiacs? He doubted it. Uphane was many things, but stupid was not one of them (yet).
Andrew Collins was two seconds away from getting the vodka out and calling it a night.
After dunking his head in the sink and lazily slogging his wet hair over his shoulders, the man gave himself a shake, resisting the urge to scrub at his face. Nasty s**t, teleportation. Useful as ******** for sticky situations, sure, but considering how much energy it sucked out of him, it hardly seemed worth it for run-of-the-mill movement.
He poured himself a shot or two, gulped it down quick and let it burn down his throat and settle in his gut. There was nowhere else to go tonight, and even if there was, no one but Charonite and her would give a damn if he showed up a little drunk.
Drew's lips curled instinctively at the thought of the Queen, and that feeling of owing her surfaced strongly again before he shook it off and shoved it down into the back of his mind.
Still, he was uneasy now.
Resuming his pacing, the man quickly began to mull over possible places he could start scouting for anymore signs of bizarre not-youma, and their little girl dominatrix partners. Still, there was no soothing the nagging sensation that had come about, and her words were ringing in his head as clearly as they had that night she’d given him that first taste of true power.
Queen Beryl did more than unnerve him. She brought back all the insecurity, the feelings of helplessness that he’d struggled so hard against for most of his young life.
The apartment was silent for a long time as Drew stopped his pacing to reflect upon it.
Then, there was only the sound of the shot glass shattering against the walls, forcibly thrown in simple frustration.
There was work to do.
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Posted: Fri Feb 12, 2010 5:35 pm
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Posted: Fri Feb 12, 2010 7:56 pm
[SOLO] #16 The End is the Beginning is the End 524 words
It was over.
Muscles jittered and jumped, as he stood silently in the dark, standing over the now lifeless corpse. His entire body trembled like, and from the blood splattered all over his face, his clothes, he looked like a lone survivor who'd pulled himself from a hellish wreck.
In some sense, he had.
It hadn't even been a fight, not really. He'd recognized the face from Barren Pines, the face of Jude Lawson. No longer a corpse, slack-jawed and stupid and dead, but alive.
Temporarily, at least; he wasn't moving anymore, couldn't with how Obsidian had simply broken his back. But when he'd pulled the kid's starseed out, hopefully ended this goddamn rebirth cycle for good... well. Something was off, he knew that immediately.
It burned in his hand with an intensity human starseeds just didn't, flared brilliantly and beautifully. Obsidian found himself staring down at Jude's face with a mingled expression of awe and sick amusement, as though he couldn't believe his goddamn luck. A senshi. That's what this was. This kid was--was a senshi.
That was about the time he lost it, threw back his head and laughed even as he dropped to his knees and started tearing at the corpse with his hands, ripping off lips and eyelids, eventually hauling out his blade to help with the mutilation and desecration of the corpse.
Obsidian.
The crude, messy writing was carelessly gouged into the boy's chest, cracking ribs and tearing straight through until some of his organs were exposed beneath the gory lumps of flesh.
It took a while, a long while, but eventually he stood up and just breathed, looked admiringly at the starseed in his hand, and winked out of the area, back to his apartment. A shower was in order, and then. Well, then he had some business with the General-King.
The jitters didn’t stop even as the hot water poured over his body, the water tainted with dirty crimson even as it swirled around his feet and down the drain. It wasn’t helping to distract him, and he was almost bitterly wishing now that the dead senshi had been able to fight back. Why hadn’t he transformed? He didn’t know, and there was no use fretting, but it still itched at the back of his mind like a constant reminder.
Fingers extended slowly, called the starseed forth so it could hang there, glittering, in his palm. His skin was practically crawling just from the energy it was giving off, and slowly, he allowed himself to give it a small squeeze. Christ. He could just smash it if he wanted to, and though that probably would have been the stupidest thing he’d done in his life, he just couldn’t believe how fragile it was.
He twisted the nozzle off abruptly, gave himself a shake and stepped out of the shower. His hair was barely attended to, somewhat wrung out and half-heartedly dried. Weariness sank all the way into his bones from the first teleportation, but he had one more trip to make tonight.
The captain closed his eyes, and vanished into the Negaspace, starseed in hand.
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