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 Posted: Sun Jun 24, 2012 5:21 pm
Splitting up was a good idea, Sasha could seriously be any ******** where on this island he realised and they needed to cover a lot of ground. He had no idea where women hung out when not being a pain in the arse on missions. And it wasn't like like he'd find her in the places he'd normally be, like the gym or the beach. So inevitably, he'd decided just to look pretty much everywhere in the hope that he'd run into her eventually. Harrison was covering the other side of the island.
His first stop on his journey had been the cafeteria, with the incidental plan to steal a sandwich before heading off outside for some fresh air to check one of the other easy places. Recreation and seeking Sasha out could go hand in hand.
Finishing off said bonus sandwich, he stopped by the training field to check out if there was any half way interesting spars going on.
Oh right yeah. Sasha. Her too. Not that she'd be there, little girls didn't care about physical prowess, right?
need this weapon. Badly. You can't afford to mess this up. Our survival is dependent on it. >
<>
He rolled his eyes and sauntered along to see who was actually around, trying to look indifferent but acutely aware of anyone he passed who had their gaze caught by the brightly glowing runes on the shameful bracelet.
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Posted: Sun Jun 24, 2012 5:55 pm
Sasha was, in fact, at the training grounds. Upon leaving Jerry, she'd made a pit stop in the restroom. After a slight breakdown, Sasha relented to the dry-heaves that clenched at her throat. She took a few moments to splash her face with cool water before patting her face dry with a towel. Even still she wasn't feeling composed enough to approach Rep. There was something dull and cold in her chest, something dangerous and dark that was altogether alien and yet.. strangely soothing, if such a thing was even possible.
For lack of anything better to do - and finding herself eager to work out some of the tension that knotted tight in her chest and shoulders - Sasha found herself making her way to the training grounds.
By the time Rep made his way there, Sasha had already been there for at least an hour, possibly more. Her jacket had been carefully set aside; sweat dampened her shirt in between her shoulder blades. Her cheeks were red with exertion. The training dummy she was currently hacking at was splintered and sagging to one side.
This relentless session was not only allowing her an outlet for the piercing rage that ached in her chest. No, Nona had changed as well, and this was also giving the huntress an opportunity for a more intimate reacquaintance with her bonded. As it was, the intermediate did not see Rep approach. Her brow was furrowed, almost as if an important conversation was taking place between Sasha and her weapon.
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Posted: Sun Jun 24, 2012 6:15 pm
Rep had been worried that the training area would be quiet and he'd have to head up to the labs, always a less than favourable experience, especially after already crossing H and with the knowledge that the whole place was just a buzzing hive of rumour. The few people around were a fantastic excuse to procrastinate on what he was meant to be doing.
Movement caught his eye over by the training dummies and he beelined over. His first impression from the blur or motion was that whoever it was was pretty ******** serious about taking out the unfortunate dummy they were dealing with. He didn't immediately recognise their weapon from afar either. Assuming it was one of the higher ranked hunters practising, he sidled over to get a better look and possibly steal a few technique ideas.
He paused mid-step as he slowly recognised the huntress. s**t. He really hadn't been intending on being the one to find her. It would have been so much easier if Harrison could have handled it instead.
Well. He was stuck now. So with a shallow sigh to himself he crossed his arms, adopting his most irritable and defensive posture. "Oi." he snarled. "H told me I need to speak to you. So." He didn't bother asking if she had time to talk, or with so much as a hello.
He had the strangest feeling Tracey was rolling his eyes.
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Posted: Sun Jun 24, 2012 6:31 pm
Almost as if on cue, Sasha's phone chimed. Sasha ignored Rep for a moment; it was rude but all things considered Sasha was beyond caring.
A voice message from the doctor.
Tucking Nona carefully beneath her arm, Sasha listened to it, a small private smile flickering across her lips before she ended the message and tucked her phone away. The smile faded just slightly when she turned to face Rep, jaw tight, Nona still clutched loosely in either hand. The runes that marked the weapon's slender blades sparked and spit with lavender fire.
<Kill him.>
Too simple.
<Maim him, dove.>
There will be time for that, Nona. In truth, I'd rather see him suffer.
The weapon sniffed in slight annoyance.
"Oh? Me?" Her hands visibly tightened on the hilts of Nona's hooked blades. "For what?"
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Posted: Sun Jun 24, 2012 6:46 pm
He clenched his hands into fists as he was snubbed in favour of the phone, overcome by a sudden violent urge to throw something, anything at her to make sure she didn't think lightly of defying him again. Just as he was on the brink of looking around for a projectile, with Tracey scolding him irritably in his head, she turned to face him.
As he looked her over, the usual lazy and arrogant smirk curved onto his features with ease. As always it was his front, his mask. He was unarmed and acutely aware of the danger in Nona's blades, not even entirely certain if he had a shield to speak of. He wasn't stupid enough to think he could take her in a fight - it just hinged on the bluff, on not looking like a viable target in the first place.
"Aye. You." he snorted. "Because apparently I need your nod to get access to a runic weapon that I need for something important." the smirk twisted into an mirthless smile at his own misfortune. "The doc says I need you to sponsor me for it. Of all people."
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Posted: Sun Jun 24, 2012 7:44 pm
Sasha had never been very good at concealing her emotions; narrowing her eyes at the man before her, Sasha took a moment to do her very best to bring herself under control. There was a feral urge to drive Nona's hook through his throat, to pull, to watch that crimson spray soak the grounds of the training field. There was an urge to knock him backward so that she could kick his face in until it was an unrecognizable puddle of blood and matter.
Too simple. Too easy.
Nona was a writhing, throbbing melody - bloodthirsty, clearly offended that this hunter before her bonded was acting as if no disservices had been done, that there were no wrongs that needed righting. Nona didn't much care about the broken man that they'd left behind in Sasha's dorm. No, the weapon was heated over the flute, in truth.
<Worthless> the weapon hissed, seething.
"You've stolen a few things of mine," Sasha ground out from behind gritted teeth. "Things very valuable to me." She tapped the flat edges of Nona's blades together, lifting a brow.
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Posted: Sun Jun 24, 2012 8:13 pm
Some part of Rep rebelled at the absurdity of the situation. Women were not a threat, women were never a threat. All of his life before the island it had been so easy to dominate and intimidate them, to remind them that not everyone played their games. Sometimes he would run into one who thought they understood the unwritten rules of chivalry, thought they knew how men worked. Those were always the most fun to surprise. Because of all these things despite the weak crippled sensation of Tracey's lockdown and even with the blades in plain sight, it was hard to feel honest humility or fear. It still felt unreal, like a bluff by the naive girl he'd tripped in the hallway, like he could push and she would break like so much teacup.
Tracey protested in his head and tried to remind him of the women who'd beaten him in spars, of Candace, of Rin, of Clarice and of all the others who outranked or out-gunned him. Of Harrison and how worried he'd looked. Of how anxious Jordan had seemed.
But it was hard to listen.
"Yeah," he shrugged "I did. You pushed me, I push back harder."
He crossed his arms a bit more firmly, the unfamiliarity of the gesture making him pine for the protective weight of the axe in his hands. He'd taken it for granted so long. It made him feel awkward, aware of his vulnerability. Normal.
He tried to ignore Tracey's progressively more desperate pleas and gestured dismissively with a hand, his tone dripping with smugness.
"Whatever man. Listen, it's still mostly intact. If you sponsor me for this weapon s**t I just might see clear to giving it back. Maybe."
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Posted: Sun Jun 24, 2012 9:15 pm
Sasha paled slightly at the mention of pushing back harder, her complexion growing even more pallid at the thought of her flute in the hands of the man that stood before her. The thought of Jerry's life in the hands of this smug, dismissive, careless man.
She pushed him. He pushed back harder. Cat and mouse - except this time, Sasha was fueled by something more than simple annoyance or hurt feelings. Sasha was no longer the mouse, and Rep was nothing but vermin. A rat. The terrible black rage deep in Sasha's core was being nourished by Rep's careless words. She wanted to hurt him. She wanted to kill him, but he didn't deserve such a simple end to his miserable existence. Rep deserved to suffer like Jerry suffered. And as much as a non-issue the old woman was, Rep deserved to suffer like she had, too.
She clanged Nona's blades together again, cheeks red and hot, widening her stance as she stared at him unblinkingly.
"Duel me. You win, I'll give you my 'nod' - I win, you give me the flute."
Bold, brash, careless. Yes, yes, yes. He was a sun, she was a life. He was bigger, stronger, more aggressive. It was stupid, undoubtedly.
Sasha wanted to make him beg. He wouldn't. She was looking for any excuse to watch him bleed. It was a pity his Fear shield would block everything, but even still.
"Summon your weapon." Clang, clang. "Lets go."
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Posted: Sun Jun 24, 2012 9:31 pm
His smirk broadened just a fraction. A duel. It was almost funny.
"Maybe I'd have fought you before. Maybe, I mean, I wouldn't want to scar you up or anything, women need their faces right?" he was honestly making an effort not to get too insulting, aware that if he pissed her off too much she might shut off to negotiations altogether. The woman comment was raw fact as far as he was concerned. "Well. If they don't have big tits anyway." he amended, recalling his own success at the bar.
Aware he was digressing, he held up the shackled arm, again almost with that smugness. She wouldn't get what she wanted. He almost felt untouchable handing over the information, you couldn't in good conscience hit the guy who couldn't hit you back.
It was like he'd told Killzone, morality was a weakness, he intended to bask in it.
"But. I can't duel you. Can't summon Tracey. This little ******** gift from your "acting boss" means I can't. So. How about we just assume I would ******** destroy you and you go tell him to hand over the goods? That way I don't need to waste any more of my time."
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Posted: Sun Jun 24, 2012 9:50 pm
Sasha tilted her head at his smirk. So he couldn't summon his weapon? He would have no shield to bear the brunt of her attacks?
He was treating her like a piece of s**t even when he seemed to need something from her?
"How about," Sasha advanced, a strangely blank expression on her face, "I destroy you," clang, clang, "and then you can go ******** yourself?" Her voice was a low, predatory snarl, and then she was on him.
Nona's blade was hungry, screaming for satisfaction. The hooked tip of the weapon would catch Rep behind the knee unless he moved; if he didn't, Sasha had every intent on digging that unforgiving hook into his hamstring.
She wasn't thinking properly about consequences, it was true. Would there even be any? The doctor had so prettily gift-wrapped this present for her, it seemed.
Rep hadn't seemed to mind turning on his comrades, his fellow hunters - and at this moment, Sasha didn't seem to mind, either. All she could see was Jerry's face covered in gore, his low whimpers, the disjointed way he'd recalled Rep's mission gone awry.
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Posted: Sun Jun 24, 2012 10:09 pm
Rep hadn't even entertained the possibility of an attack. As far as he was concerned this confrontation could have ended a few ways, most of them with him walking away with the permission he wanted, one with Sasha getting scared and refusing to co-operate. He wasn't prepared in the least for what she said, and his brain was still backpedalling in shock as she closed the distance and lashed out with Nona.
There wasn't any time to protest, to say to stop, that he didn't even know if he had a shield before the bite of the weapon connected with his leg. He hit the ground hard, chin meeting the flooring with a smack that made him see stars. Taken well off guard, he was dazed for an instant, realising as his senses came around that he couldn't feel blood, that Tracey had him, that he'd managed the shield.
He tried to scramble to his feet, keeping the weight off the leg she'd attacked, it wasn't bleeding thanks to the shield but he'd sure as hell felt it. "Th... THE ********?!" he utterly screamed at her, his voice a good few octaves higher than normal. "The ******** do you think you are even doing?" Anger was all he could turn to in the wake of the shock. He could not believe that she had attacked him, attacked him knowing he was unarmed, that she could potentially kill him.
It was chilling. He felt like he was looking at himself. It was an awful feeling, he knew what he was capable of, and if Sasha was capable of those things, he had very little hope of getting out of this.
"You ******** psycho b***h! I might not even have been able to block that!" he held up his hands defensively for all the good they'd do versus the sharp blades, mind racing as he sought for for something, anything he could use to hold her off. His tone was a threatening snarl but he couldn't keep the uncertainty out of it. "I'll ******** destroy the damn flute I swear to god."
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Posted: Mon Jun 25, 2012 7:44 am
Sasha hissed in annoyance. How had that not crippled him? Why was there no blood, no permanent damage? Growling softly, Sasha moved with clipped, frustrated strides as she prowled around Rep in a half-circle. Even without a weapon he was making no move to attack, no move to defend himself.
"Pretend I'm.. Jerry. Pretend I'm any of the others you turned on during that mission. Pretend I'm a civilian - you seem to like attacking those. Pretend I'm a man if it.. makes any of this easier on you. Don't think of me as a woman with tits and a pretty face. Think of me as... equal. Think of me as superior."
Sasha was on a rampage. The beast had been loosed. The electric rage that had taken hold back on her papa's farm was back, amplified. Her father's face swam before her eyes, and Rep would deal with the brunt of that anger, that hurt. This was no uncertain, naive girl before him. This was a woman who had been given this gift, this toy, and she was not about to let such a thing go. This was a woman who had allowed herself to completely, fully experience an anger and resentment that ran so deep that it had become a part of who she was. It had always been there, lurking and skulking about. It had always been waiting.
"Because, Rep," she feinted forward, relishing the sound of uncertainty in his voice as she slashed out in the direction of his chest with Nona's sharp, dagger-like hilt, "you're nothing right now. A smear on the ground for all I care. I don't care if you can't block me. I don't care if you can't summon your weapon. I don't care about you." Sasha bared her teeth at the man, snarling like a rabid dog.
"They should have put you down. And if you think to do anything to my flute?"
Sasha narrowed her eyes and slashed out again with the sharpened hook of Nona's blade, a careless attack that was meant to intimidate.
"I'll put you down myself. You're nothing but a bully, Rep. A careless, thoughtless bully. And what you did to Jerry - what you did to someone I love? What makes that okay? Have you even thought to check on him? To see how he's doing after going out on a limb to help you on your mission? Did you even care about what might have happened to him when you netted him?"
Of course he hadn't.
"I'm not afraid of you. I'm not afraid of your threats. It's funny that you think the flute means more to me than Jerry's life and well-being does."
She wanted to see him cry. She wanted to see him lose control. She wanted to see him beg, beg, beg - like Jerry had begged him to stop, even while retelling the series of events that had led up to this point. She wanted to take him to heel. She wanted to crush him, to make him understand, to see fear in his eyes, to watch him break down. She wanted to see him cowed. She wanted to see him humiliated. She wanted to completely unleash her rage on his soft, squishy body.
"Psycho b***h." A twisted, horrible smile wrenched her lips.
<It suits you.>
Sasha laughed.
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Posted: Mon Jun 25, 2012 10:47 am
Defiance was locked in a war with common sense in him as she prowled around him. All his instincts said to fight back, to do something, anything at all, but he was logically aware of the shield. He both loved and hated fear shields, if it was back home he could pin her, stamp on her hand, anything to make her drop Nona, to even this out. Teeth were a weapon, anything was a weapon at close quarters. It was frustrating how useless all the old fighting instincts were here.
Nothing would ever make it easier to tolerate being beaten by a woman. They were targets, weak and fragile, meant to be defended or dominated. There was something monstrous about one threatening him, monstrous and absurd. Every wide swing made him flinch. He could enjoy pain and had always found a sort of delight in pushing people beyond their limits, but not right then. There was still a sour taste of madness in her words, a taste of his own lack of mercy.
Again Nona clipped his shield and he knew she wasn't fully trying - he had seen the dummy after all, but even that was chilling. People like Sasha didn't taunt, they didn't terrorise or back people into a corner, this wasn't how it went. Little cowardly girls didn't know the ******** meaning of the word sadistic.
He'd pushed Jerry so far he'd not only snapped but splintered, and it seemed somehow like Sasha was the same. She wasn't going to let him walk away. He wouldn't be able to run. It was horribly familiar to him, cornered and out gunned. The last time he'd been without some form of knife or weapon on him, he'd been nine. He'd been helpless and scared and had been nothing more than a coward.
But he wasn't a kid any longer, as long as he still had his shield he wouldn't give her the ******** satisfaction of seeing him break, of letting her savour the terror currently lacing his every thought like electricity. He hadn't argued back then, he would argue back ******** you and ******** Jerry," he snarled, "He couldn't follow orders, he got taken out of the way. Its not my fault he's a ******** bleeding heart. Like a woman."
He pointed directly at her before clenching his hands into fists "Speaking of which, you will never be my ******** superior. No matter what you ******** do to me. Women are weak, even with a blade in their hands, you ******** exist to be subjugated by men. And you enjoy it." Anger lanced through him at this thought, dulling the aches from the fall, numbing out the fear and twisting it into something more constructive. "Even the worst sort of man is greater than the best ******** woman."
"So, I might be nothing, but I'm still more than you." He swung as hard as he could, punching nothing but shield every single time, it didn't do anything, but the intent was there and that was somehow more soothing than standing there helpless like he'd had to do in the past. Maybe it'd surprise her, maybe it wouldn't - he was past caring. Raw adrenaline carried him and there was a hopeless resignation to the fact he wasn't going to get away from this, he was trapped so what did it matter if he goaded her further?
"And if Jerry means more to you than the ******** flute?" he said.
"Then I hope he's ******** irreparable too."
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Posted: Mon Jun 25, 2012 11:48 am
There was a little voice - Nona? Herself? - that whispered. Sasha couldn't tell who it was.
No. Don't. Stop. No. Stop. Don't.
Sasha was breathing hard, harsh, raspy. When Rep mentioned Jerry, Sasha saw a deep, dark crimson that was nearly black. Her face contorted into harsh angles and planes, twisted by the putrid consuming wrath that roiled within her. No longer did she make an attempt to hold it back. There was no containing something so wretched and vile. Sasha was helpless as it crashed over her, sweeping away any semblance of the meek and mild-mannered young woman she'd been schooled into. All for her papa, and he hadn't loved her enough to stay. He hadn't cared enough to change. He'd been content to give up and die, to leave her behind to suffer without him.
He'd left her. He'd done this. It was his fault.
Sasha was beyond words. Words didn't matter. Simple phrases meant to hurt, to break. Words couldn't touch her. Not now, not when she was cushioned by the boundless, hemorrhaging fury that coursed through her. It was comforting, this emotion.
There was nothing graceful or beautiful about the way Sasha went after Rep, an unholy cry wrenching from her as she attacked. Nona's blades were a flurry of action. Wide, sweeping strikes. Precise, acute slashes. She wanted to see his blood. She wanted to see that fear, taste that uncertainty on the air. She needed to hear his cries of pain. Sasha wanted him to know that he couldn't just destroy someone's life like he had. He couldn't unravel someone's safety net without dealing with the consequences.
The hooks on the tips of Nona's blades were hungry talons that yearned for the give of Rep's flesh. His blows were ineffectual. She was paramount. Dominant. Powerful.
He was nothing. Inferior. Vermin.
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Posted: Mon Jun 25, 2012 12:37 pm
He couldn't defend against her, there was nothing to defend with, flesh was soft and fragile and he knew shielding himself with his arms the way he was doing was stupid. The moment the shield gave out, he was ******** - muscle and bone gave way like butter under weapons, he could even remember how it had felt.
When the first swing landed, he staggered back, hating himself for being so stupid, useless and weak. As the blows landed again and again, that helplessness became all that he was aware of, all options removed he was mired completely in the moment. It felt like she wasn't simply whittling down his shield but something more, something much dearer to him, his walls, his emotional barriers, memories he wanted to forget.
She'd always been too weak to save him. To broken to raise an objection.
Sasha had reminded him of his mother when he first saw her, weak, passive, friendly. Used by others like a bargaining chip, too innocent for the place she'd ended up. He'd hated her for it, hated her with every scrap of his being, and somewhere knew that the darkness of the place would get into her very bones because that was what happened. He'd expected her to succumb to it and give up, the way his mother had let the darkness overtake her. She would become the island the way his mother became the drugs because that was what women did.
But now she was fighting back, she was attacking him, attacking all he stood for.
Doing what his mother never had.
And somewhere, in the pain and fear, he was okay with it. He was on her side.
This was what he deserved, this was what all those men just like him in the past had deserved. Some switch had flipped in his head and he was no longer angry or humiliated at the attack, just resigned that this was how things had to be. His attempts to throw her back and fend her off lessened and with a single misplaced step he lost his balance and fell to the ground. He didn't feel the pain of the blows any longer, it felt like they were happening to someone else.
He didn't run, simply tried to get back to his feet, but failed as the hail of attacks failed to relent.
Tracey was right. There was nothing to be gained from this. He couldn't think straight, couldn't connect logic with his emotions. He felt like two people, two opposing people and for the first time in years, the other one, the stranger he thought he'd long ago killed was the one in control.
No longer was he mentally the abusive, aggressive drunk who deserved all he got, invincible and malicious. She'd stripped him of his last layer of confidence and arrogance, of everything he'd built up around him that was Rep. Vulnerable and human again, he was that worthless child who hurt others before they could get close enough to hurt him, terrified and uncomprehending in the face of unshackled anger.
He didn't want any of this, he didn't want the pain, the backlash, the consequences. But he'd sought them out so hard almost on instinct. He just wanted them to notice him, if that meant hate he'd always been okay with it, hate was attention.
At least he'd freed her, at least now she knew what it was to fight back.
Curling foetally he gave up on trying to stand, the confidence in his tone gone, the last threads of his shield barely holding together. "Please." he said "Please don't. Don't. I'm sorry. I'm sorry okay I'm sorry." He wished he could crawl out of his own skin, disgusted by what he'd been reduced to, a cowering pitiful wreck. "P..please. I didn't mean it these things just ******** happen. I tried. I tried so hard to make them proud. J..Jerry was just there." His breathing was wracked with silent sobs as he pleaded. "The flute is okay, its okay. Please. I wouldn't break it I just..I just ******** wanted to have your attention. To..to make you snap, to make you fight." He was rambling and he knew it, but he didn't care. His words barely made sense as his voice broke. "You were just like her."
All it would take was one more hit and she would meet with nothing but human.
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