|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Thu Jun 20, 2013 10:35 pm
Nearly a week had passed since her brush with death. Since the foul negaverse captain had his hand in her chest, fingers wrapped around the delicate crystal that was her soul in physical form. Though the idea of dying would have shaken most to their core, and certain had shaken the ginger, Dene refused to let it keep her down.
She simply had to face the truth, she needed to stop acting upon her impulses. Doing so had lead her to too many losing fights, had put her in too many treacherous situations where she either needed to flee or someone had to swoop in and save her. (Like the brash, foul-mouthed eternal that had rescued from the scythe wielding captain.) She could hold her own in most situations and she had tricked herself into thinking she could take the pink-and-black haired soldier.
She had dueled him twice before and won, what had he done to change the tides so easily upon her? She really didn't care for the two-to-two score they currently had. And she was certain, to her core, that their dangerous dance would continue until one of them was dead, or on the same side. But Denebola would die before she let chaos take her. (Even if it meant taking her own life.)
The ginger-haired senshi was determined not to keep the captain's constant harassment keep her from protecting the civilians who needed help. She was careful, wary, as she moved across the darkened streets. Her transparent bow floating behind her as she moved briskly, fingers curled tightly into fists as her mismatched eyes darted across the shadows.
Despite her best efforts to remain unshaken, she could not shake the fear...the worry that in any shadow he could be lurking.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jun 23, 2013 3:26 pm
Lurking in the cover of shadows wasn't really Proustite's bag. As a performer, and an artist, Jack was most at home in the spotlight. He didn't really like only coming out to play at night, when the majority of Destiny City's citizens had retired to the relative safety of their homes. Not that the Negaverse actually had rules against breaking and entering.
…Hmmm…
Captain Proustite stood in the middle of a street in one of the city's quieter neighbourhoods, peering into a lighted window where a young family sat watching Toy Story. The mother was a pretty woman. Her sons (twins) couldn't have been older than two. Proustite pinched a cigarette between thumb and forefinger, sucked on the end, and very seriously considered popping in for a visit. They had popcorn, and potato chips.
Jack liked popcorn and potato chips.
Proustite straightened a little when the father entered from another room, arms loaded with blankets. He was a big man. Looked like the sort that might own a gun. Deciding ultimately that Woody and Buzz were not worth getting shot over, Proustite turned away from the little family and their townhouse.
A prickling of senshi energy forced him, suddenly, down the road. He went slowly, and almost looked forward to being found. Proustite didn't have much of a taste for getting his a** kicked, but it was hard for him to resist anything in a skirt-- no matter how deadly they happened to be.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jun 23, 2013 9:50 pm
It hit her like someone slamming into her back at full speed. Paralysis crept up her spine and spread through her veins making ever single muscle in her tense. It sucked her breath away and made her freeze in the middle of the street. Blue and green eyes were wide in temporary panic and she moved in a slow circle struggling to control her breathing.
Was this what having a panic attack was like?
She forced herself to breath, eyes closing as she tried to calm herself. Every nerve in her body was telling her to turn and go home. Patrolling would have to wait. She was in no state of mind to be out here risking her life so soon after she barely managed to escape with it. She swallowed dryly, tilting her head back and folding her fingers into her palms.
She stepped forward, dropping her chin and eyes fluttering open. She had not yet seen the source of the chaotic energy but she made an assumption. He had been stalking her for weeks, nearly a month now. How could it not be him?
"You know, I'm really sick of you stalking me!" she snarled, hand on her hips as she stomped forward.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jun 24, 2013 10:14 pm
At first, Proustite stared.
And then, because he wasn't stalking Denebola, he turned around to get a look at the person she was yelling at.
There was nobody there.
Proustite faced Denebola then, and took a long drag of his cigarette. The end of it glowed red. ********, the Negaverse didn't pay well enough for this s**t. Senshi were dangerous when they weren't delusional, and this one was clearly insane.
He exhaled. A cloud of smoke billowed from his lungs into the night air.
"Honey," the Captain said, "I don't want any trouble."
He emptied his pockets, and then held his hands up in surrender.
"Look," he mumbled around the cigarette clamped between his lips, "no star seeds."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jun 24, 2013 11:29 pm
As she approached him she realized that the captain before him was not the same one who nearly slayed her just shy of a week ago. Paranoia had lead her to assume they had been one in the same. Tension seemed to leave her body and without realizing it, Dene visibly relaxed. He was clothed in red, not blue and his hair wasn't nearly as dark (or pink) as Labyrinthite's. It wasn't him.
It wasn't him.
It felt so good to know that it wasn't him.
"I...I..." she stuttered halting in her tracks. She pushed her bangs from her face, expression falling from one of solid determined anger to confusion. "I thought you were someone else," she muttered. Her gaze dropped in shame, her shoulders sagging from a mixture of relief and embarrassment. This was a new feeling, the emotion overtaking her and flushing her cheeks a bright red.
He claimed he wanted no trouble and she could not help but laugh, the sound bitter and unbelieving. "Aren't you always trouble?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jun 25, 2013 3:21 pm
It was a relief for Proustite to learn that this particular senshi might not have needed a one-way ticket to the nearest funny farm. He smirked when she looked away from him, relaxing in the face of her embarassment, and put his cigarette out under his foot.
Jack thought the blush on Denebola's cheeks was kind of adorable.
"Nah," he said, retrieving a pack of smokes and a fine-toothed comb from where they'd fallen to the road when he emptied his pockets. "Obviously I can't speak for all of my colleagues, but..."
Proustite checked his reflection in the side-view mirror of the nearest car. Illuminated by a street lamp; he smiled at himself, and fixed his hair.
"...I'm always looking for a good time."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jun 25, 2013 3:59 pm
Her head snapped up when he moved, eyes lifting to follow his movements. Just because she had made a mistake did not mean she would leave herself completely vulnerable, but he just picked up his things from the ground and she found herself frowning.
She observed him fixing his appearance from a car mirror and without realizing it, smiled. She smiled because if she was in her civilian form, it was something she could do herself. Smiling only furthered her unsettled state, why was she smiling at something her enemy was doing?
The unsettled feeling came because this was the second time she had met an agent of chaos and they hadn't tried to take her life. It made her uncomfortable so she tried to push the feeling away with banter.
Banter would calm her down. "I don't know," she paused, taking a step toward him. "From my experience, trouble can mean good time." Maybe she was testing him. Maybe she was testing herself.
She wasn't sure.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jun 25, 2013 4:15 pm
The gentle click of her heels on the pavement made Proustite tense. He straightened, because he could not see her reflection in the mirror, and reached for another cigarette.
What she said was often true. For Jack, getting into trouble could make for a roaring good time. But there was a profound difference between getting his rocks off and having his face punched in. He wasn't a masochist.
Proustite glanced at Denebola out of the corner of his eye, and smirked again.
Not usually a masochist, anyways.
He leaned back against the car and took a moment to light his cigarette, cupping the lighter with his palm to protect the flame from the wind. Proustite inhaled, pocketed the lighter, and stretched out his legs.
He fixed Denebola with a curious stare, and twinkled at her.
"Are you looking for trouble, Red?"
It seemed to him that, only a moment ago, she'd been running away from it-- well, no. To be fair, she had stormed out of the darkness and snarled at him. He exhaled.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jun 25, 2013 10:45 pm
As she grew closer to him, a flicker of recognition hit her. It was enough weight to make her pause and reevaluate him. Had she tangoed with him before or did he just resemble someone she knew?
She pushed her thoughts away, he hadn't shown himself to be a threat so she wouldn't worry about it. Yet.
"Well, that depends on what trouble has to offer me," she answered offering a smirk of her own. Her confidence was beginning to bubble replacing the insecurities that had plagued her since she initially powered up. Being around a nega without being attacked was surprisingly soothing for her frayed nerves.
She found herself calmed by his casual use of a nickname, Red. It made her think of the super-heroine Phoenix and that left her still smiling. When she realized what she was doing she forced her expression to still, to be calm. "I'm also not certain trouble can handle me right now," she teased.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jun 26, 2013 3:40 pm
Denebola wasn't the only one experiencing deja vu. Proustite couldn't be sure, but he thought that he might have run into this particular senshi before. He was neither surprised, nor especially bothered by the idea. At their cores, working against Chaos, senshi were all the same.
Pretty to look at, and lethal to touch.
"You're probably right," he said, and gave a noncommital shrug. He puffed on his cigarette, and appraised Denebola with a c**k of his eyebrow. "All of those flowers and ribbons look pretty bad-a**."
His lips quirked. There was nothing cruel about Proustite's tone of voice. He was playing, the way that she was.
"I'm going to do something illegal," he said, standing. "But I'm not going to hurt anyone. Promise you won't book me, and I'll show you a good time."
For Proustite, nothing was ever black or white. He wondered how many shades of grey Denebola could see, and then had a private chuckle about his own literary savoir faire. Jack felt clever.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jun 27, 2013 11:13 pm
"You can't judge a book by it's cover," Dene defends. The line is cliche and overused but fitting for the conversation. Her hands settle on her hips and she's leaning forward just slightly. "Trust me, I'm fearsome," she insists. Her lips purse together in a pout and her eyes narrow as she playfully pretends to be terrifying.
He's lucky that she's just pretending because she's talking with him and usually, with chaos, she talks with her fists.
She's strangely relaxed around him and she attributes this to his seemingly passive nature. This is the second encounter she's had with chaos that hasn't led to a bloody battle, it unsettles her slightly. She has to believe that they're simply acting, pretending to be interested and care because to do otherwise shakes her faith in what she believes.
And she believes nothing good comes from chaos, right?
"What's with that getup?" She asks, quick to continue the conversation because it keeps her from over-thinking. Yeah, that's gotta be it, she's thinking too much. "You look like you escaped from the circus, won't they need you back? I'm sure you're the main attraction."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jun 29, 2013 7:38 pm
Denebola neglected to make Proustite the promise he wanted, but he started shucking out of his jacket anyways. If she didn't like what he had in mind, they could duke it out. Once Jack had rules about hitting women. Proustite, however, had decided a long time ago that he preferred being alive to behaving chivalrously.
"I didn't pick it out," he drawled, lips curling around his cigarette. Proustite wrapped a fist in his jacket. "But I'm glad you like it."
Denebola's intended insult had struck straight to his heart, and made it glow. Proustite was the main attraction in the circus of life.
He shot a wicked grin at his senshi friend, and shattered the driver's side window of the car he'd been leaning against. The jacket muffled the sound of the crash, if only a little, and protected his hand from the glass. Proustite unlocked the car, got in, and started hotwiring the ********," he said, "it's been awhile since I've done this."
In high school this had always been Ducky's specialty. Jack provided the distraction.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 02, 2013 12:52 am
The red jacket comes and Dene isn't sure how to react. Surprise overtakes her and it shows all over her face; her brows are knitted together and her mouth hangs open just slightly. She's perplexed and her mind is racing to make herself react in a different way, anything would be better than standing there like an idiot. Then he breaks the car window and surprise shifts into bafflement.
"What makes you think that's a good idea?" The words leave her lips before she can think twice. The words are barely out of her mouth and he's already inside the car. She sighs and stomps forward.
Suddenly she stops, hesitates, almost fascinated by what he's doing. She decides, quickly, that she'll advise against it. "I really don't think that's a good idea," she tells him. He mumbles and fiddles and she wants to laugh because he struggling and it's almost endearing. "It also looks like you're doing it all wrong," she points out.
Okay, so she doesn't know that much about cars but from the looks of it Proustite isn't doing it right. Of course she doesn't provide him with any suggestions or advice because she's never done anything like that. The worst thing she's ever done has been get in fights, which really isn't so bad considering Fiona has never been in fights. Only Denebola. And that makes it okay.
Right?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jul 03, 2013 4:23 pm
As far as ideas went, it wasn't a good one. But that was kind of the point. Proustite, nimble fingers busy underneath the dashboard, cocked his eyebrow at Denebola.
"You're probably right," he said. Because she was, but that wasn't of any consequence. <********."
Proustite ducked under the steering wheel so that he could actually see what he was doing. He concentrated, ignored the way Denebola insisted on pointing out that he was doing something wrong, and puffed furiously on his cigarette. When, at last, the engine roared to life and the headlights blared he sat up again.
"Well, Red," Proustite said, looking immensely pleased with himself. He gripped the steering wheel, and patted the seat next to him. "Are you getting in, or not?"
A shout of alarm came from an upstairs window in a nearby house. Proustite adjusted the rear-view mirror and fixed his hair.
"You're running out of time."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jul 03, 2013 10:20 pm
Denebola knew that she should be doing something other than standing there watching him. She knew that she should have been making an effort to stop him because he was about to steal the car but she didn't. Curiosity was getting the better of the girl as she inched forward. The knowledge-hungry side of her wanted to be able to see what he was doing, to peer over his shoulder as he fiddled with wires and soak up the knowledge.
And then he was done and someone was shouting. They had been noticed.
By the time everything had begun to happen, she had reached the hood of the car. Startled she leaned forward, palms laying flat against the cold metal and two-toned eyes staring at the captain. Her gaze flickered back and forth between his face and the seat he just patted.
It was now or never.
And she made a decision. Before she knew it she was opening the car door and sliding in next to him. She could feel her heart rate increasing as she once again acted on impulse. She had a feeling she'd regret the choice in the morning, considering she just got in a car with a stranger, but she could use a different kind of night.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
