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 Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2011 9:55 pm
 vs 
SCENARIO
A true invasion of privacy, and Van is absolutely livid. Though, Bataar managed to get the shading on her boobs right.
Bataar, the Artist
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Kurama no Koishi generated a random number between
1 and 3 ...
3!
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Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2011 9:57 pm
Outcome:
BAT'S ARTISTRY IS FEAR-INSPIRING
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Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2011 10:15 pm
Bad things had compounded upon each other one after another, after Van had moved to this neighborhood. It was almost enough for her to want to move out, until she remembered what she’d left behind. Still, her new adventures by the sea were in some ways almost as terrible. She’d been beaten half to death by two Noble fighters who’d thought to take ‘justice’ into their own hands by targeting the newest Legionnaire addition to the neighborhood. By some crazy twist of fate Bataar was now her roommate—or rather, he’d popped up in her bed often enough that she finally ceded and bought him his own bed, just to save herself the heart attack every morning. But this, this was the last straw.
She’d come home after a long day to find that her stuff was all over the place, and definitely not by her own doing. Her journal, the most important thing, was still in her drawer, but later that night when Van sat down to record her day... she opened the violet book to find that her journal had been vandalized. Defiled. By none other than her own captain roommate.
The fighter had stared at the ridiculous drawing of—what was it, a tiger chasing Van in the jungle?—for a good minute. He was still bitter about that time she’d left him to die in the jungle those many months back, and after many fights and squabbles later, it seemed that his vengeful thirst had not been satiated.
It was not the drawing that bothered her, but the fact that he had probably read her entire journal. That meant he knew everything about everything she’d ever done, with few exceptions! It had taken all of her willpower not to burn something (the ger) down, but she decided to wait instead and take her anger out on its source—the captain.
He wasn’t home yet, but as soon as he walked through the door, Van was ready to smash a floor lamp onto his head.
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Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2011 10:28 pm
Bataar hadn't given much thought to anything the other day as he'd located a pack of crayons and had had the supreme urge to draw some sort of a picture, just so that he could combat some of Van's occasional muttered curses. The paper had been, he'd decided, in short supply and so he'd had to grab this stupid book that Van always wrote in in order to properly render his masterpiece. He loved it, but it only took him an hour to forget that he'd done it in order to move onto the next tornado-like activity that he liked to terrorize the ger with during his days off.
He was now walking home with a spring in his step, ready to lay down in his bed for a considerably long nap, unaware of the demon lurking within the confines of his now-shared home. Bat stepped in, waving to Van in order to acknowledge her before heading straight to his new bed and flopping down on it, his feet dangling over the edge as they were wont to do(he was pretty sure Van had found a child-sized bed at a yard sale and had decided to settle).
In any case, it was a bed, and he was prepared to take a nice, long nap. After all, he'd been killing people all day, to the extent that some blood spatter remained dried upon his cheek as he went to lay down upon the purple pillow, generously provided by his new roommate. Dealing out death was an extremely exhausting activity, anyway, and he was bone-tired. Unfortunately for Bataar, however, Van would be homing in very quickly, very soon. The man was entirely unaware of his impending doom, most especially because he was, to this day, absolutely illiterate.
His masterpiece was about to get its first review.
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Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2011 11:03 pm
When Van heard the thundering footsteps coming up the path, she knew her roommate was home. Grabbing the large lamp off of the floor after assuring herself for the tenth time that she could simply replace it, she stood by the door, waiting. Usually when relations were strained between two people, particularly roommates, it was wise not to do anything crazy like hit them with furniture. The fighter had long since tossed this notion out of her head, however—Bataar knew all of her secrets now, but she’d make sure he’d go to the grave with them, at this exact moment. With him dead, she didn’t have to worry about anything. No roommate, no problem.
She was so caught up in her glorious reverie of finally being rid of the captain for good that she noticed too late when he’d walked through the door, and missed her first opportunity. What confused her more, was that he’d waved to her in an almost cordial manner as he saw her. Somewhat puzzled, she started to follow him, but stopped. Had he not noticed the absurdity in finding his roommate brandishing a floor lamp by the door? Did he really think she did that on a regular basis?
It was official. Her roommate was driving her insane. The first missed opportunity had slipped out from between her fingers, but at this rate, the second one was coming up fast. She did not let her brief bemusement take the fight out of her, but instead approached the sleeping captain with as much stealth as she could muster. She looked absolutely ridiculous, but she waited anyway by the makeshift room divider until she could hear his snores.
When she was finally by his bedside staring at his sleeping form, she almost felt bad. She was taking advantage of a sleeping man, after all. Remembering then that neither of them had any regard for the rules of conventional fighting, Van swung back and brought the pole down on his body, its wood splintering everywhere from the impact.
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Posted: Sat Dec 31, 2011 5:18 pm
The nice, long nap seemed to have commenced without a hitch, but the Mongol had paid absolutely no attention to his roommate as he'd strolled in. Perhaps if he had he would be far more prepared for the wake-up call that the fighter had in store. Before he knew it, a force was suddenly splitting itself across his body, shattering and forcing his eyes open immediately. It was one of the most confusing sensations he'd ever experienced in his life, and he made up his mind straightaway that he did not like it.
The man stared at his assailant for a few moments of utter confusion before snatching up a part of the lamp that had been partially preserved. He took the stick and shoved it, as fast as he could, at the spot on Van that was the easiest to reach from his bed. In short, the sharp stick was heading directly for the woman's breasts, which Bataar didn't look sorry about in the least as he aimed. In his opinion it was absolutely unfair to be assaulted in the midst of his sweet dreams and he was going to make this known to the fighter. They were roommates, after all-- they needed to respect each other.
The captain took a moment then to pause and try to figure out exactly what was going on. "Don't hit me while I'm sleeping!" he cried, regarding Van with a glare. Now he was going to have to fight her, and he knew that this was going to detract from his nap time, which was more frustrating than he could properly describe. Nap time was an important institution in the world of Bataar, and in his eyes it was inviolable.
"Now I'm going to have to kick your a**," he explained to Van, his tone more than a little matter-of-fact.
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Posted: Sat Dec 31, 2011 5:33 pm
As soon as the pole of the floor lamp hit Bat’s sleeping body, Van felt her blood begin to boil and her blood pressure begin to rise. Even without provocation, there was just something about the captain that made her inexplicably angry. This time, though, now that there was a reason, it was probably going to send her off the edge. With a manic laugh, she hit him over and over with the broken piece of wood until she was holding nothing but a bunch of large, sharp splinters. In this time, she saw that Bat was about to retaliate with the other half of her lamp, and it was heading right for—oh...
Van went down as if she’d been hit by a bullet, shrieking in pain as she’d been stabbed in the boob (for probably the 89843234th time, coming from this particular Noble). She didn’t kick him in the balls nearly often enough to be merited this kind of pain all the time! Laying on the wooden floor of the room for a moment, she tried to figure out what her next dirty move was going to be, but her thoughts were interrupted with Bataar’s voice.
Narrowing her violet eyes when he displayed no remorse, she shot up to her feet again, the pain temporarily forgotten. “You’re the one who deserves the a**-kicking! YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID!” she shouted, before jumping onto the small bed to pummel the Noble with as many punches as she could manage with her small fists. Like all other women, she expected him to know exactly what she was thinking and exactly what he’d done wrong. A fallacy indeed, when such genius mind-reading was expected of Bataar.
This was no normal fight; Van wasn’t using any of the martial arts skills her opponents were used to. This was a temper tantrum, and she showed this by biting down hard on Bat’s bicep when she found it in front of her face.
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Posted: Sat Dec 31, 2011 5:47 pm
Bataar was faintly aware of quite a few tiny scratches opening up on his mostly-bare skin, but as he was still a little on the groggy side he wasn't entirely sure how to react. Usually there was at least a reason for fights with this particular Legionnaire, but today she seemed to be ruled by an unidentifiable fury. He didn't think he'd ever seen the woman lose it to this extent, and he really was wondering what he'd done wrong. It would be nice to know, even if he were just able to reflect upon his awful sin, for it must have been absolutely terrible, whatever it was.
Boob-stabbing was a particular specialty of Bat's after so many involved fights with Van, and he never ceased to lose satisfaction from the look of pain that always crossed her face: it was always the same, and always entirely different from any other look of pain. It was, in fact, downright entertaining to watch the fighter writhe after having endured one of the captain's signature moves.
Suddenly, though, Van was practically on top of him, clearly try to cause his death in the most ineffective way possible. "Hey, wait! I mean, can't we talk about this, Van?" Bat asked a little nervously, berating himself for thinking just days before that he and the fighter might almost be friends now. Of course, it wasn't true. They would probably squabble to their dying day, especially now that they lived together, but the woman was being especially vicious today, and he couldn't decide why.
And now she was biting him. "OUCH!" the Mongol roared, trying to shake off the madwoman with limited success, desperately kneeing her and treating her as if she were more canine than person. She was sure as hell acting like it. "What is WRONG with you?!" The Van he knew would have deemed him much to dirty to gnaw upon.
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Posted: Sat Dec 31, 2011 5:59 pm
Normally, Van would have been more than happy to just coexist with the captain. The fights were fine, but cleaning up the mess afterward was more pain than it was worth. Plus, if she got him to relax a bit more around her, she could probably dig up some good dirt on him to send to the Legion. That was half the reason she had moved to this neighborhood, after all. Any such reasonable thoughts were not present within the fighter tonight, however—her mind was completely clouded by her fiery rage. Her brain function was at an ultimate low as far as battle efficacy, and so she didn’t comprehend Bat’s words until several seconds after they’d come out of his mouth.
She stopped dead, staring at the captain with a growing look of incredulity on her face. He was kidding right? Trying to make her more angry, trying to troll her? There was no way that, after all he’d read in her diary, he could just look at her with such an innocent face and pretend that he had no idea what she was talking about. As suddenly as she’d stopped, she started whaling on him again, flailing her limbs as she tried not to miss. “YOU. TOOK. MY. JOURNAL. AND. READ. IT!” she shouted between punches.
Honestly, Bataar was probably right when he told other people how beastly she was. Unfortunately for him, he was the only person to ever see her in such a state. At some point in time, Van slowly realized how ineffective her tactics were, and she jumped off of him onto the floor, pacing around the room quickly as if looking for something.
There it was. A scarf! She would have wondered why the captain had her scarf in his room if she’d been in her right mind, but alas, she wasn’t. In a fury resembling that of a feral cat, Van turned again on the Noble, looping the fabric around his neck and pulling back with all of her might. She was going to choke him to death.
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Posted: Sat Dec 31, 2011 7:19 pm
Confusion was certainly reigning for the time being, and Bataar had no idea how he ought to combat the feeling. It was normal for Van to try and kill him, yes, but it was unusual for the woman to lose her fighting style so entirely and also for her to seemingly not have any reason at all for attempting to claw his heart directly out of his chest. The viciousness he could handle, the lack of sanity he could not. After all, Van had always struck him as a decently reasonable creature, even if she was a little too violent and fought dirty at times. This, however, was beyond dirty. It was like the fighter really wanted to kill him this time around.
Her next words made absolutely no sense: none at all. The biggest problem was, perhaps, that Bataar was illiterate. He had never been able to read a word, and had only recently learned to sign his own name(although he found the process complicated and generally took five whole minutes to do it). He hardly even knew was a journal was, besides, although he supposed that it involved writing, and that... "Oooh, that thing," Bat pronounced brightly, in the middle of being attacked.
He understood that his picture may have been offensive, but it couldn't be so terrible as to prompt this attack. There had to be something that the captain was missing somewhere. It all pointed back to his inability to read, however. "I didn't read that thing!" he informed Van, expecting her to believe him straightaway and stop attacking him. Of course, this was all much too simple. Things were always more complicated than that, especially when you found that you were suddenly being strangled.
The Noble gasped for air and clutched desperately at his neck, his green eyes widening. Why, he couldn't even defend himself in the middle of this murder attempt!
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Posted: Sat Dec 31, 2011 7:42 pm
Bataar wasn’t the only one who was confused. Van couldn’t be sure if she was the one confused or if Bat was the one being confusing. Knowing both of them, it could be either or both at the same time. He was a captain for heaven’s sake, living with a fighter from the opposite faction! Her journal was the most important source of information in her possession! Van was often blinded by the sense that if she thought someone (Bataar) would do something (read her journal), then they would. She never would have guessed that he was illiterate, however, and to this moment, she still didn’t know.
She was so enraged at his continued denial that she forgot she was trying to kill him for a second, and her grip on the scarf around the captain’s neck loosened. “That is not just a thing!” she screeched, looking and sounding more animalistic by the syllable, “YOU TOUCHED IT. YOU READ IT.” She tugged on the scarf again furiously. There was still no doubt in her mind that he’d read everything in the diary from the first page. And perhaps, if it’d been any other Lunarian, Van would have been right.
The fighter was somehow coherent enough to make out his choked statement, something about not reading the ‘thing,’ as he called it. She would not have any of it, dropping the scarf completely to grab the captain by his long, tangled hair—this was a catty move she’d never used before in her life. The woman gave the clumps of hair in her fists a hard yank to prove her point. “Don’t lie to me! Why don’t you say that to my FACE?!”
With these words, though, Van over-pulled, falling backwards off of the bed that was much too small to accommodate Bataar, let alone the both of them. If there was anything to be learned from this fight, it was that Van’s primal instincts were not conducive to survival.
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Posted: Sat Dec 31, 2011 7:59 pm
Bataar may have been entirely for his faction, but he was a good enough person, morally speaking, to respect the fact that, before Van was a Legionnaire, she was his roommate. He wasn't about to try doing something that was going to piss her off on this level, after all. He wanted peace in the ger that he considered his own, or as much as he could possibly manage to gain. It was a simple desire, and he'd been determined to stay true to it for the past few weeks, taking impulses out instead by creating works of art-- masterpieces, if you like.
He was quick to snatch the scarf away from Van the moment it loosened, and he desperately stuffed it under the bed, already feeling his throat swelling uncomfortably from the force that had been exerted upon it. "I did not!" he yelled hoarsely, massaging his throat and allowing himself a yelp of surprise as Van took him by the hair. He had never experienced such inappropriate behavior from the Legionnaire and could hardly understand the importance of her journal-- it was just writing. If she was going to make that big of a deal perhaps he ought to learn how to read in order to decipher the thing. She seemed to be suggested that it had an importance of that magnitude, after all.
The captain would have stayed to scratch the woman's eyes out when she fell back, but he felt that it was important to preserve his life for the time being. Perhaps he'd go to Sara's house or something, but he couldn't possibly stay here tonight. He was almost convinced that Van was going to kill him in his sleep the next time he shut his eyes, and that was what prompted him to punch her upside the head and then make a run for it.
Unfortunately, they hadn't seen the end of each other. After all, Van still didn't know that Bataar was illiterate.
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