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 Posted: Sat Nov 30, 2013 1:08 pm
This night was going to be different. The Sugar Shanty was mere days away from reopening, after much hard work and effort, not from his hands anyway, and Richard Moreau saw the reopening of the store as simply a metaphor of re-opening his life. Turning it around, turning over a new leaf, starting off on the right foot, the list could go on and on, and Richard had little time to consider which would have been the best phrase. Not tonight…
Tonight, he was determined to get the ball rolling once more on both of his careers, and with the Sugar Shanty remaining in Daran's ever so capable hands for a little while longer, that gave Richard the time he needed to get his duties in the Negaverse in order. Tonight, he wouldn't call Serpentine for assistance. He was behind on his quota, and he only had himself to blame, and like a responsible adult, he would correct this problem himself by starting small. Siphon just a small bit from an easy target, and what easier target that the one Victoria Moreau?
"It's a pity that accident destroyed your car… it was such a fine vehicle and it would have sparred my old, aching feet from all the walking," Victoria said, always the one to complain when things weren't going her way, and to whoever would listen to her rambling. It was no wonder where Richard got this bad habit from, as the similarities were absolutely uncanny, and she carried on her little banter, her heels clacking against the cold pavement and not at all noticing that her son had stopped following her for awhile now. The moment they were clear from the recovering candy store and free from the prying eyes of the others, Richard Moreau shifted into his military garb, soldat steel cap turned downward to hide his gaze, knowing that she'd never recognize him, even with the beard he sported but never wanting to take the chance. He was literally upon her before she turned around, and there was no fear in her crimson gaze, looking around and past Captain Buddingtonite before finally addressing him. "Oh, my apologies, I've been rambling this whole time… who might you be, and what's with the attire? It's dashing on you, sure, but don't you think it's a little much?"
'Trust me, dear mother… I take no pleasure in this.' Buddingtonite thought with a kind smile, before tipping his hat and introducing himself. Just a little bit of energy and he'd carry her home. He'd even let her have his bed… "Captain Buddingtonite, and I assure you, this is quite fitting for me this evening."Strickenized Let me know if this is an OK start.
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Posted: Sun Dec 01, 2013 11:55 pm
Victoria Moreau sported some of the very same features that drew others to her charismatic son - shockingly red hair and vibrant red eyes to match, as well as a certain confidence about her that prompted her to straighten her shoulders while she walked and regard others with her chin tipped slightly upward - looking down on those she regarded as not quite deserving of her presence. She disguised imperfections with the addition of heavy makeup, as the world needn't know the age of Victoria Moreau, and her personality underwent the same doctoring to present the image of an infallible, undeniably attractive matron who reveled in success.
Even her attire was tailored to this image - from a shawl of mink furs, only the finest, accompanying a flowing, elegant dress with enough of a cut over her bust to draw the unrefined eye. But Victoria did not look the part to affiliate herself with the baser breeds of mankind - and neither did her son, for the moment. Various onlookers might regard her as the pride of the Moreau family, as a woman so entrenched in her own riches that she rendered herself untouchable to the masses.
But Leda noticed none of this. She did not see the woman so steeped in carefully chosen shades of makeup and jewelry, nor her mannerisms, nor the natural gifts bestowed upon her by her bloodlines. And she would not be able to recall these attributes in hindsight, for she didn't think to focus on the woman she intended to save from a quickly looming Negaverse agent. What she did notice was the captain confronting the woman, the one wrapped in various greys with sudden pinpricks of roses over notable areas of his uniform. What she noticed was the manner in which he confronted her, with his hat tipped and a likely wolfish smile splayed across his features in too-practiced ease.
What she saw was an agent intending to drain an innocent of energy, or even pull her starseed.
What Leda would remember that night was the way her fists clenched tightly into bare palms, and the way her nails bit into the flesh until her skin was devoid of color in those seemingly permanent indentations. She'd remember feeling cold, but shaken with a fragile determination that she needed to do something about this - that she couldn't stand idly by while yet another Negaverse agent slunk away with a little more life stolen from those around them. And she would remember the rallying huff she gave before she approached the scene - an irreversible act with substantial repercussions.
But Leda knew none of this now. She only knew the mixed feelings churning in her gut and the steady clacking of her heeled shoes on the unrelenting sidewalk. She only knew the way in which it betrayed her approach, along with her energy signature, as if already stacking the odds against her. And she only knew the quaking in her voice when she addressed the grey-clad captain. "Stay away from her!" She managed, though her lack of conviction peeled through her words.
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Posted: Mon Dec 02, 2013 2:22 pm
In hindsight, it was probably foolish of him to risk such an endeavor out in the open, but it certainly wasn't his long term plan. He was intending on appealing to her vanity, drowning her with compliments and all the while ignoring the fact that he was 'flirting' with the woman that was in labor for thirteen hours for him and his twin brother, and by appealing to that vanity, he could pull her into a more secluded area. There he would drain a little energy, just enough to fill his quota and then carry her to the hotel she stayed in. That's all he was planning.
And while Victoria, as gullible as she was, was willing to play along with his little scheme, the energy signature that sprung up on his inner radar and the shout he heard told him that the senshi that approached him wasn't. He paused in his approach, glaring at the one that dared to interfere, and what luck that Victoria was just as startled by her appearance as he was, as she remained where she stood, too intrigued by the sudden turn of events to have the common sense to flee.
"Oh, isn't that the most adorable outfit I've ever seen? Not sure who you are to be making such a request, little dearie." Surprisingly, it was Victoria that addressed Leda first, pulling her mink coat closer to her body to fight the sudden chill, and the smile on her face one of amusement, as well as admiration. Her time in Destiny City was always short lived and her knowledge of the war was practically non-existent, and no where did it show more than at the very moment. "However, you must tell me who you tailor is, little one. I especially love the dress at the front and how it hikes up- a little skimpy, but so long as you have the legs to show it off, then-oh!"
Buddingtonite had taken advantage of Victoria's distraction, stepping forward in defiance of the senshi's demands and grabbing the civilian's arm, not to harm her but to keep her safe, as well as use as leverage. Victoria certainly wouldn't appreciate being handled to roughly and she made it known by giving an indignant huff, even as Buddingtonite drew her close to his chest. "As charming as you are, this is a private conversation, so butt out."
Then, without warning, he tightened his hold around the woman, fur coat and all, and leapt into the air, just barely landing on top of a nearby coffee shop, keeping his back turned to the senshi and focused on putting Victoria in a safer position before they were forced to fight, even when the woman began to kick and scream. "Oh! Help! Help, I'm being kidnapped! Unhand me, you're going to ruin my coat!"
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Posted: Wed Dec 04, 2013 9:43 am
Leda found it difficult to try not to blush, as she'd never gotten a compliment on her outfit before, so for this delightful older woman to pay her a kindness like that nearly took her off guard. Luckily she stopped herself from manifesting a compliment in return, as she doubted the woman would care much about her mink furs when she was passed out from a Negaverse agent's attack, but she still appreciated what was said. And it was certainly a struggle, an inner war, to determine whether it was more appropriate to return the compliment at this time or stop the agent as fast as possible.
Ultimately the decision was made for her when the enemy agent stole away the woman, and easily crested the top of a low building with her. "Hey!" Leda shouted back at him in an instant, splaying her arms behind her as if to provide more power to her words. Soon afterward she ran toward the coffee shop on her own and, still rather unsure of her new capabilities, leapt to the top with little incident. The awning brushed against the hiked up front of her skirt, but ultimately she mirrored the agent's movements without suffering any consequences for the sudden action.
"Let her go!" She had no threats to give - as a senshi, as someone who wanted to protect the quiet lives of others around her, there were no threats appropriate to this situation. She knew that if the redhead didn't return the older woman to her, then a fight would have to take place. And while she thanked Maia profusely for the combat expertise she provided, Leda was uncertain whether she could manage that same prowess on her own. Without the eternal senshi to help her position her feet and hands, could she really fight off an agent while conserving her magic for hairy situations?
A quick look around confirmed that the coffee shop was flanked by two larger buildings, which towered on either side. It looked a little silly, in a way, like poor architectural planning, but that proved a disadvantage to her. In such a short area, how could she possibly manifest her super attack without harming the very person she was trying to protect?
Leda couldn't afford to stand around and stare at her surroundings though. If they worked against her, so be it - maybe she would find the good fortune to throw the captain from the building and fight him on flat ground. She'd just have to figure it out when she got to that part. Instead of continuing to harangue the officer about the release of one Victoria Moreau, the Steam Senshi instead rushed her captor. Though she didn't have a terribly vast faith in her abilities, she still aimed a punch toward the face.
With any luck, it might be enough to dissuade him from his crimes.ChibiGingi woooo rooftop fight goooo
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Posted: Wed Dec 04, 2013 2:55 pm
Perhaps this was a poor decision on his part to have even tried such a thing, Buddingtonite thought, doing his best to keep his composure and wits about him, even when there was a senshi hot on his tail and a very unwilling hostage in his hands. He knew his mother to be oblivious to the affairs of Destiny City and even matters that were outside of herself, but he also knew her to be feisty, and as a son, he was incredibly proud that the prissy little dog had teeth, and the notion to use them. Thankfully, not literally, but her harsh words, followed by the blows to his chest and shoulders, gave him some hope that she'd overcome this endeavor after a bottle of Chardonnay and a box of chocolates. "Now is this any way to treat a lady? You have no idea who you're dealing with- when my husband and sons get wind of this, you're going to regret ever touching a single hair on this coat!"
'Trust me, I'm doing the old man a favor,' Buddingtonite thought with a sneer, and the Negaverse captain in him thought to not only silence her, but keep her still, and while it would have been easy to render her unconscious (and he was completely willing as she had many, many years of payback catching up to her), he refrained. Instead of striking her down, he set her down on a discarded crate and immediately grabbed for her shoes, ripping the guardy heels off one foot after the other. If others had seen him they'd think him mad, and yet, no one knew Victoria Moreau quite like Richard hard, and she gave a shrilled cry as he threw them over the side of the building, letting them fall in the snow, out of reach but easy to him to recover when the time came. Any normal person would have been willing to discard their shoes and flee without hesitation, but not Victoria, and he pointed to her, flashing her a twisted smile as he gave her a simple command. "Don't worry, I'm sure your children will get them for you in a moment. Now sit still and for the love of all that is sacred in this world, keep your voice down."
She flashed him an indignant look, as though to say 'how dare you', but she obeyed. The rooftop of the coffee shop was cold, damp, hardly a place for a woman as refined as Victoria to dare touch in fear of ruining her stockings, and with one problem solved, he turned around to face the second, and more pressing, of the problems, only to get the fist to the face. It slammed right against his chin and sent him stumbling back a step, but he forced himself steady, swinging his arm to catch himself and summoning his boomerang from the dark realm it rested. It came to his hand, and the moment he was armed, he took a swing at the senshi for force her back. Unlike the senshi, he paid little attention to the battlefield, looking only ahead and seeing a troublesome little child that had picked the wrong fight this evening. This was his chance to recover lost ground in the past two months. This was his chance to redeem himself, for what he did to Lucca, for what he allowed to happen to his business and to himself. In some sick way, he'd find a way to make everyone he knew in the Negaverse proud. Laurelite, Zinkenite... Serpentine, and Mica... maybe even Bischofite. He would make them all proud of him this night when he presented this senshi's starseed to them.
What didn't help was the woman he originally sought to drain and the one he was protecting in his own manner, and he wasn't surprised to hear her shouts from behind. "Get him! Sock him again for me!"
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Posted: Thu Dec 05, 2013 10:54 pm
Leda watched in mystified disconcertion when the officer actually stopped to take her shoes off. Not only that, but he tossed the obviously expensive shoes over the side of the building, carelessly, and Leda found herself staring in abject horror as they sailed through the air. Hopefully they wouldn't land in snow - Leda knew as a designer at heart that those shoes were ruined if they weren't properly sealed. Add to that fact that the shoes simply couldn't be sealed without losing their proper color, and it culminated in a cringe on the young girl's features. She already found herself connecting to the older woman, so she sympathized greatly now.
But the agent didn't waste much time afterward. Once he recovered from her surprisingly effective punch, a boomerang swept through the air in a low whirl. Leda traipsed backward as quickly as she could, watching with mild relief as the boomerang whisked harmlessly through her hair. Her heel found a crack while she searched for footing, though, and the senshi lost her balance soon after. She hit the ground with a hard thud and howled lightly from the pain before she tried to scramble to her feet.
Of all the people in Destiny City to drain... Why would this officer fight over an older woman? Leda knew there were kids her age out right now, who probably had a lot better starseeds and a lot more energy than a middle-aged matron draped in fine designer clothing, so was this captain looking for a little cash to supplement his income too? Was she fighting a criminal and an officer?
After scrambling to her feet, Leda mustered up her best game face and raised her fists toward the captain again. "Yes ma'am!" She called to the hostage after heeding her much-needed words of encouragement. You're not going to die tonight, she wanted to say. Once I'm through with him, this officer won't be able to look at you without peeing himself a little. Maybe. Hopefully.
The environmental awareness she'd been working on kicked in again when her heel touched the lip of the building. Rather than make a quick movement toward middle ground, as she would have before, Leda began edging slowly around her opponent. It looked like his weapon was suited for close range, and it looked kind of like a propeller, so she didn't think much of it - if she broadened the distance between the two, maybe she could squeeze some of her magic in. Scalding Blast was out of the question, but her Swirling Steam should dissuade him well enough.
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Posted: Fri Dec 06, 2013 1:08 pm
Buddingtonite didn't care whatever was on the mind of the young senshi in regards to the discarded shoes and nor did he think that he might have struck a passerby and alerted their presence. So long as it kept Victoria in place and out of mind while he dealt with the senshi, that's all that mattered to him, and he let out an annoyed spat when she was able to dodge his initial strike. Not that he allowed that to get him down, though- whatever he missed the first time, he was certain to catch the second, or third, and with that in mind, Buddingtonite jumped onto the offensive.
It hardly surprised him to hear the old woman cheering his enemy on, even outside of the predicament she found herself in. He highly suspected that if Victoria knew the truth to his identity that she'd still root for the other team, just to take some kind of sick enjoyment in seeing her little boy fail. Part of him wondered if she had somehow seen through the glamour the dark gift offered him, and that only drove him to try even harder to strike the senshi down. Seeing Leda fall did offer him some hope in becoming the victor this night, and he could not help but crow aloud, even as she scrambled back to her feet when she sought to close in on her. "You know, it's a pity. On another day, I would have loved to try to win you over. Your spunk's certainly desirable, as is the lovely starseed of yours. You'd make a fine pet for the Negaverse..."
Perhaps this was a task more suited for Serpentine or Mica, but who was Buddingtonite if he did not enjoy himself? Who was Buddingtonite if he did not taunt his foes? He could only be himself, as flawed as he was. There was no one else he wanted to be at this very moment, except for Captain Buddingtonite. This mindset made it entirely too easy to ignore his original target, failing to see how she looked around the crate she was on, keeping her delicate toes away from the cold ground of the roof and looking for a weapon of some kind. It was easy to gloss over what the senshi had just said, and he went in for another strike, keeping his boomerang tightly holstered in his gloved hands and seeking to drive the senshi closer to the edge. When she tried to put distance between them, he sought to close it, knowing that his boomerang could reach but wanting to make the blow count by throwing his muscle behind it. He could push her off the edge and hope the fall would cause enough damage, then he'd simply teleport down and finish the job.
A simple plan, one that he liked and knew would earn him praise, assuming he could pull it off. Unaware of her magic and what danger laid in wait, he rushed forward, trying for a vertical swing this time, and what stopped him wasn't any action from the senshi, but a snowball that had slammed against the back of his neck and sent his cap flying off. It was cold! Cold! He couldn't help but shiver and his arms fell to his side, and he whirled around to see who had dared strike him, even when there could have been only one other option. And Victoria was preparing another, standing on top of the crate and reeling her fist back. "You'll pay for what you did to my shoes! They were a gift, you heartless beast!"
"And you are a petty little b***h, do you know that?" Buddingtonite sneered, calling back to the woman and side stepping her next throw, and with that, he completely turned her back to the senshi, reeling back his boomerang and only meaning to give her a verbal threat, forcing her to wince and flop back down on the crate. "Now sit down, and shut up!"Strickenized Silly Buddy, your enemy is behind you!
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Posted: Sun Dec 08, 2013 4:21 am
Leda huffed while she tried to steel herself. "I don't think so!" She hollered back, determined to defy the officer at all costs. Ida had spoken with her before, referencing the Negaverse's dark actions and the Dark Mirror Court's manipulative ways, and from that conversation she learned that she desperately needed to hold onto her resolve around officers like these. If she even stopped to listen to him once, no doubt they'd put her in an uncertain predicament between her court and their faction.
For every second the fight lasted, it reminded her of her painful inexperience with fighting - or rather, with winning a fight. She'd fought a different officer earlier, one with a whip in one hand and a naga at his side, and that fight would've ended in tragedy had a certain cat not protected her in the process. This officer was of the same level, that much she could sense - and he did not have a youma at his side, so she wasn't outnumbered... Yet. Besides, something else was at stake here, which only served to fuel Leda's shaky defiance. How could she possibly run away when the older woman in mink sat on the sidelines, watching the two fight over her life like she was a trophy of some kind?
In hindsight, she could've defined her life in that very moment. A constant struggle, maybe, over something she'd always tried to protect. She wanted people to have good lives, long lives, full of mirth and interest and aspirations but expressing that passion was never her strong suit, and violence proved a throttling affair for her. She would've realized that things wouldn't change if she never powered up that night, if she never interfered, but that didn't make the fact any easier to swallow. She realized that her friends in the fuku would've tried to cheer her up and reiterate that fact, but that wouldn't make it any easier.
Nothing would.
When the agent lunged toward her, Leda flinched backward with a wince and raised her hands to cover her face, but... A strike never came. Instead, she heard a soft thud, and peered between her arms to see the captain entirely distracted by the very woman she sought to protect. It was as if the matron sought to give her an opening, and Leda knew she couldn't waste it - not on her hesitance to strike. Not now. Not when the agent raised his weapon as if to strike the poor woman - as if to end her life.
Leda had to do something, so she relied on her magic for what she hoped would drive him off finally. She couldn't miss, not like this. Not with the pitifully small distance between them - and she couldn't afford to miss. Her life depended on it, just like the woman on the crates, the one who bought her the time to execute the attack in the first place. It was as much an homage to her as it was a legitimate attack to put a stop to the officer's antics. Steam slowly coiled around her body, toward her hand where it gathered into a small, concentrated sphere. "Leda Swirling Steam!" She called, aiming toward the agent.
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Posted: Sun Dec 08, 2013 12:23 pm
As surly as Victoria Moreau was, the very threat of being struck was enough to scare her into submission, as the moment the captain reeled his hand back to strike, she had fallen onto the crates and rose her hands to protect her head and face. Part of him seethed at the thought of having to threaten the woman that once gave birth to him, but it was easily combated by the very notion that this was payback for, well, just about everything wrong this woman had done to him, to Daran, to the old man and just about every single person she wronged. Had he not cared for keeping his identity a secret, he'd let her know why he was enjoying himself a whole lot more than one should have been when striking against their mother and would give her a list. And that list was quite lengthy, as Richard was never the type to allow a slight, no matter how small or insignificant, go unavenged if it was at all possible. The problem was where to start...
Finally, for all of her smarmy verbal lashes and audacity to strike against him, it was gone the moment he was close enough to touch her, and the genuine fear he heard in her voice stirred too many conflicting emotions within him. "Please! Don't... I have a family!"
'Yes, a family that would have probably done better had you never come back,' Buddingtonite thought with a disgusted sneer, and by then, any notion to strike her was gone. She was a despicable woman, but he felt she had endured enough. There was no need to give her any bruises or a heart attack, otherwise Daran would never forgive him. He was going to say something, but the shout from the senshi caused him to turn around, and his first instinct was to dodge the incoming attack. It wasn't that big and it would have been entirely too easy, but he was standing directly in front of Victoria- had he moved, she'd take the attack head on, and while he was willing to entertain the thought of harming the woman, he'd be damned if he'd allow a senshi to do the same. If he moved fast enough, maybe he could try and deflect the attack back at her with his boomerang, and he spun around, sending the weapon flying, sending it towards the senshi and thus through the attack, releasing the weapon before realizing that it wouldn't do him any good. It spun and cut through the ball of steam but nothing swayed it from its course, and he did the next best thing he could think of.
'Grab her and teleport! Now!'
He was halfway through the motion when the attack hit him, slamming against his shoulder, neck and face with a blast of hot steam, and there was nothing he could do to stiffen his pained scream. If her shout didn't attract attention from below, his bellows certainly would have, and what bitter luck did he possess to have it hit him in the eyes. He brought a shaky, gloved hand to his face to try and cool himself down, when he suddenly felt the weight of another pressing down upon him, and blinded, disoriented and enraged, he lashed out. Damn that senshi! "You will PAY for hitting my face!"
What he didn't see was that the one that tried to knock him down wasn't the senshi at all, but Victoria, his senses too overwhelmed from the scalding steam to feel the soft fur coat that she wore, and he reached his arms around, trying to grab his assailant and throw her off, unable to see where he was going and thrashing like a mad beast, never aware of who clung so desperately onto him, never aware of just how close to the edge he was getting, nor how far the drop would be if he went tumbling over.
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Posted: Tue Dec 10, 2013 9:27 am
Leda remembered feeling initially gratified that her attack had struck in such a potent manner, successfully scalding the agent's face and part of his shoulder. She remembered that satisfaction melting into sympathy when she realized the destructive nature of her attack, how it burnt his skin and pulled an agonizing scream from his lungs. She remembered how cold her fingers felt when she raised her hands to cover her mouth, hiding a cringe of regret for her actions. When she watched the man, now blind from her attack alone, it reminded her of the Skydancers she had as a child, as the way they flailed about helplessly to maintain altitude, before ultimately crashing into the ground once more. She thought it was strange to consider such things at the time, and she remembered feeling strangely distant from the scene, as if a pane of glass separated her from the events that unfolded.
Leda froze to the spot, but her exposed skin hadn't shown any signs of the frigid weather. She rooted to the spot due to her own fear and indecision, watching helplessly while the Negaverse agent sought to recover himself. And the events that followed, if she closed her eyes afterward and looked past the pain to concentrate on the memories themselves, felt like slow-motion film segments. She remembered the glove he wore, grey like the rest of his uniform, and she remembered wondering how nice it would be to wear such protections against the cold.
She remembered wondering if the older woman was warm enough with that mink coat, and disliking the agent for exposing her bare feet to such harsh weather.
It felt so surreal to stand and watch, with her fingers pressing into her skin like icicles and her eyes fixed on the spectacle unfolding before her. In hindsight she knew she should've moved, she should've shirked her indecisive nature and sprinted forward, even if it meant giving the officer an opportunity to hurt her or push her off the building, because she was given this power to protect the people around her who couldn't protect themselves. She knew that she could've survived a fall from a low building like this, even if she didn't want to tumble from it in the first place.
And she knew that the older woman lacked the heartiness of a super senshi, and that she would surely shatter if she hit the snow below. But Leda didn't budge - instead she looked on in horror as the woman effortlessly slipped from a hapless victim to a opportunistic predator when she lunged at her attacker. And Leda would look back on this event, wishing she had the older woman's fearlessness when it came to such openings, and that she could've learned something from the redheaded matron. She remembered wondering how the woman happened upon such a wealth of boldness, and if Leda could even hope to manage such boons.
Finally she broke from her helpless, statuesque disposition and sprinted after the two, while they strayed precariously close to the ledge, and she reached out toward the two while her legs carried her too slowly, too painfully slowly, toward the scene. "Stop!" She exclaimed in a broken scream, but as she finally seized the captain's coat to pull him backward toward her, toward safety, she found her actions were too little too late.
The damage was done, and the snow blossomed red like a fallen rose.
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Posted: Tue Dec 10, 2013 12:54 pm
The cry that lifted into the air when the body went flying off his back and shoulders didn't belong to the senshi, and that worked wonders in combatting the stinging sensation that forced his eyes shut. Red eyes shone against an equally red canvas, but Buddingtonite saw everything through a haze- the skies above them seemed greyer and more foreboding, the lights shining against the skyline dulled away. Even the senshi's vibrant hair, with hues of lavender, blonde and black, were greyed out, as the only thing that had reflected color in Buddingtinite's mind was the growing pool of blood on the snow-covered pavement below. How could it not? Red was such a strong color on its own, and against such a pure background, it was like seeing a lighthouse in the dead of night at sea.
He wasn't sure what had happened- when he had heard the senshi's shout come from in front and not behind, he had tried to stop, but momentum worked against him. Her quick thinking saved him from what would have been a nasty fall, but that same momentum had wrenched the combative woman from his back and shoulders. The fall was long and dangerous for any human, especially one of Victoria's age, and the only thing that kept Buddingtonite from rushing to the woman's side was Negaverse basic instincts. He had to keep his cover. He couldn't expose himself. He couldn't let the senshi, nor the growing group of bystanders, know who he was. Even as Victoria's red eyes glassed over and dying breath escaped passed through her bloodied, parted lips, she would not know the identity of her murderer. Her murderers.
Perhaps there was still time? Perhaps he could have teleported a short distance away, powered down and rushed to her side. Bystanders below were already pulling out their cellphones, a few making frantic movements and clinging to each other as a brave one was trying to resesitate her, but it was too late. There was no movement from Victoria, no presence. The bystander shook his head, and more and more were looking up to the rooftop, to see what could have caused such a fall.
A better officer would have taken pride in the situation. He would have stood tall and announced to the people below that it was the senshi that was at fault. He could have used the fear instilled within them thanks to Tag's documentary to twist the story around; after all, it was her attack that sent Victoria Moreau to her death. He could gave grabbed the senshi and thrown her to the wolves, and his night would have been a success, as he gave the Negaverse a perfect matyr against their enemy. When Daran found out, he would exhaust all financial and physical efforts to track down the monsters responsible for this. He could have converted him himself, bred the perfect officer. A great officer would have done all of these things and more...
He collapsed, his knees slamming against the cold and wet rooftop but he didn't feel a thing. Physically, he felt nothing. His pants were becoming damp and heavy thanks to the humidity on the rooftop and threatened to freeze him directly to the tar, but he didn't notice. He tried gripping the parapet to hold himself up, but he missed horribly, slamming his chest against the concrete and half hanging over the side before slinking back to the other side, both hands gripping the side and just barely holding himself up. He might have scratched his face against the parapet, but he felt nothing.
All he felt was locked within him, gathering deep within his chest, swelling bigger and bigger, threatening to swallow him whole but he did nothing to fight it. This feeling, this pain... it was normal, right? It was... appropriate, wasn't it?
"She was pushed from the rooftop!" Someone from below cried, followed by another, one who sounded angered and was followed by multiple stomping of feet. "It's the terrorists! Get them!"
They would go through the store and apartments to get them, giving the two just enough time to escape from the growing mob, but Buddingtonite didn't move. He just laid there, clinging to the wall and huddled in a ball.
'What have I done?'
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Posted: Thu Dec 12, 2013 11:23 am
Leda gaped in horror. She couldn't process the whole event, from start to finish. Instead she fixated on little things - minutia she might easily swallow to get a better grasp on what happened.
The air was cold. She thought, must be 15 degrees outside. She thought, I should be cold. She thought, her coat looked so warm. Snow dotted the ground in slow, graceful succession. It was snowing, yes, snowing at fifteen degrees. And they lingered in the dead of night, maybe 11PM, certainly after her typical hour that she slipped to bed and set to rest her mother's worries. And they stood on top of a coffee shop, though she didn't know the street. Leda didn't drive - Sirsce didn't drive - so she never paid much attention to street names.
But she knew there was a sycamore tree in the landscape not far from here. One of the bystanders stood near it, cell phone at the ready. Maybe he was taking pictures. Maybe he filmed the whole thing. Maybe he was just looking for reception beneath a sycamore tree. Leda wasn't going to pass assumptions, because assumptions were rude and he could've had a perfectly legitimate reason to lean against a tree with his cell phone held at arm's length from his face.
And then there was the snow heaped atop the ground - some brown with dirt and debris, some still white and unbroken. But the brown piled up at the edges of the street, and the white painted most of the landscape except for minute potholes where people had been walking toward the scene. A lone pair of shoes sat in their makeshift grave, sunken into the mound because of the agent's sudden and strange antics. They sat there pristinely, waiting for their owner to retrieve them and don them once more. Waiting for the police in their latex gloves to package them away in plastic bags labeled EVIDENCE.
In one area, the snow turned red. It melted into some mild sinkhole, and from it radiated steam. It must've looked like hot coffee poured out into the cold, like hot chocolate spilled like a child, but the color wasn't quite right. She knew as much. And it didn't take terribly long for the bright red to form a much darker color - and she wondered if the stories were true that blood became deep in color the closer it came to the heart. She didn't really understand it. She didn't like blood. And maybe she didn't have to - if Leda did her job as a senshi, she wouldn't have to look at blood ever again.
Ever again. She was looking at it now. Looking at a corpse. Looking at a corpse looking back at her with those haunting, hollow eyes. Those accusatory eyes. Those why didn't you save me eyes.
The shout shot through her senses like a bullet cracked through the blanketed silence of fresh snowfall. Leda wrenched her gaze from the new tally to the growing body count, and instead focused on the agent who huddled against the wall. Something was wrong here, but they didn't have time to think about it. Leda didn't have time to ruminate over death - but she did know that if the growing bystanders started after them, the night wouldn't end with just one murder.
"Come on!" She shouted at the agent, clapping her hands onto his larger shoulders and shaking them with the same frantic nerves that had her humming if she stood too still. "We've got to get out of here! They're gonna come get us and I can't let you die too! Even if you are a Negaverse agent!" No more death. Not tonight. She didn't need to see more death.
It was time to go.
Things were so easy when set in black and white.
Without waiting for a response, Leda seized the captain's arm and wrenched him toward the back of the building, opposite the growing mob below. If they could just cross to an adjacent building without them seeing, then maybe they'd still escape with their lives.
She remembered thinking, there were roses on his uniform. She remembered thinking, he left his rose on the ground. She remembered thinking, it's a shame to let the petals stain the sidewalk.
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Posted: Thu Dec 12, 2013 4:27 pm
The senshi was saying something, but Buddingonite couldn't comprehend her words, nor the urgency behind them. He didn't hear the clamor of the people inside of the shop nor how they rushed up the stairs, not when he could hear that twisted, distorted screaming from within. Perhaps it was his conscious or maybe a bit of Chaos within him that had manifested itself within him had grown sentient enough to where it had earned a voice, but whatever it was screamed at him. He killed her. He killed her.
But that voice wasn't sad. That voice wasn't angry. That voice repeated itself again and again in his ear, each utterance of the mantra bringing more and more life into him with each passing millisecond, becoming louder, stronger, overwhelming to the point that it was screaming at him. He killed her. He killed Victoria Moreau. He killed her…
Those screams consumed him, so much that they were becoming familiar. The voice had taken a familiar form and pitch, foreign at first but welcoming in its melodic tune. It was his voice. It passed through his own lips, starting from within his chest and rushing through his esophagus, to his throat and escaping his lips, resonating into the air as siren's call would penetrate the silence. What was he screaming? What was he saying? Were his cries coherent? Were they that of a man truly broken or a beast finally unleashed from its cage?
The one that could tell him wasn't here, and maybe it was for the best. Had he been here, he would have been so proud to witness such a sight, he would have encouraged him to throw himself into the mob with reckless abandon, claiming starseeds in the name of the Negaverse and climb the ranks. There was no where near enough blood staining the snow tonight, is what he would tell him in that thick, broken accent, or would be plead for him to flee with the senshi that pulled on him now? The senshi who had just as equal hand in her death as he did? A senshi that tried to save him, when he assaulted an elderly woman and sent her to her death…
He did not know how she got him to stand. He didn't know how she managed to pull him into a run. He wasn't sure how they were going to make such a jump as both buildings were far too tall for either of them, but the moment they fell just short of their destination, Buddingtonite was tempted to do nothing at all. Let them fall to their deaths. Was it not fitting for two murders? To share the same fate as their victim? His screams turned into howling laughter as they plummet to the ground, hand in hand, hearing nothing but the rushing wind and the twisted, distorted sound of his own laughing in his ears. Was the senshi crying? Was she begging for help? He couldn't tell. He didn't care.
They should die together.
They should join Victoria in hell, the both of them.
The mob would be confused as to where the two murderers went, but the mystery would be solved within a matter of seconds as all it would have taken was for one of them to peer over the side. There they'd be, side by side, two fallen angels drowning in their own blood. It would be classified as a murder-suicide and that'd be the end of it. Nothing more to it then that. When his life was taken from him, would Richard Moreau lay in the snow? Would they know of his identity as Buddingtonite and then realize all of his crimes? Would they then know of his involvement in the Carnival? The convention? Would they realize what he had done to his own cousin and his store? What would become of Richard Moreau the man when death's sweet embrace took him and dragged his soul to hell?
What would become of Sugar Shanty? What would Daran do with his store when he realized he murdered not only their cousin, but their own mother? Would his old man's heart finally shatter when he was forced to bury not only his whore of a wife but his despicable son as well? Would he even care? Would that be enough for him to finally let things go? He had taken Victoria back, time and time again, what's a murderer for a child when it came to giving forgiveness?
What would become of Krishna? Would his friend blame himself? Would he look at him in disgust, kick snow in his face, before turning away? Would he think him rude to turn all he had done to help him into wasted effort? Would he then be forced to take responsibility when the Negaverse came looking for questions? He had taken full responsibility for his friend and with the right tongue, it would have been easy to throw everything onto him and punish him for Buddingtonite's folly.
What would become of his dogs? Baldwin? Dummy?
Suddenly, mere moments before meeting what would be a quick but gruesome fate, he grabbed Leda's hand, and the two of them disappeared, sparing the snow below from more taint this evening. Buddingonite wasn't sure where he'd end up, but he was in for a rude awakening when he felt his back slam against a dusty old metal canister, forcing his grip free of the senshi and the momentum of their free fall sending the captain sliding on the old factory floor. Rats and pigeons fled the scene, wanting nothing to do with either the Negaverse captain or the senshi he brought with him. Buddingtonite did not stop rolling until he hit the conveyer belt, and he laid limply on the filthy but familiar warehouse where he and another senshi often met, sparkling and twinkling as specs of snow began to melt.
Once the frantic cries of the distressed rodents and fluttering of pigeon wings had ceased, it was quiet, and Buddingtonite didn't move.
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Posted: Thu Dec 19, 2013 5:51 pm
She missed the mark.
She missed, and she wasn't sad. She didn't mind. She forgave herself of that mistake long before she made it. Leda knew what would become of her should she fail to reach the second rooftop - it loomed in the forefront of her mind, and she regarded it serenely. If this was the end, she'd take it alright. This was okay. This was repaying the woman's death with her own life. Wasn't that how it went? Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, life for a life? But the Negaverse officer tumbled with her - she remembered glancing toward him, in those strange ephemeral moments, and he looked beleaguered by something, perhaps bogged down by the reality of his situation.
He was going to die with a senshi. One next to the other. Two civilians meeting the same fate as a third. It sounded like something out of a novel. Who knows, maybe they'd make headlines. Sirsce would finally reach fame, and maybe those scraps of ideas might finally meet the masses in the form of published work.
She remembered thinking, how can two deaths equal one death? How could a death negate a death? If the world lost two people and gained none, how is that a balance? She remembered thinking, the snow is too cold. Would it hurt to break an ankle? A leg? An arm? Would it hurt to drown in blood? She remembered thinking, what would Mom say about this? Would she know? Would she regret it?
And she remembered striking ground heavily, her ankle rolling when she first touched down, and collapsing onto her shins. Her legs hurt desperately from her ankles up through her knees, quick spats of pain mimicking her heartbeat, but her mind was elsewhere. It wasn't focused on the heavy impact on her tailbone or the way her spine felt slightly shifted, or the way her shoulders ached when she lurched forward. She didn't bother thinking about how sick she felt, or how her mouth tasted bitter or how her tongue felt thick.
Strangely, Leda found herself in a warehouse. The ground wore a thin layer of filmy dust, occasionally flecked with metal shavings around the areas near the conveyors. Their long tracks lined the walls, and a pair angled upward toward the second floor, though her eyes couldn't follow their final destination. Somewhere beyond the hanging lights, she figured, beyond the catwalks and metal floors and hand railings. The place felt terribly foreign to her, painfully unfamiliar. Or maybe that was simply the strange sensation welling in her gut, threatening to overtake her in a fit of nausea. She hadn't figured out what it was until now, and Leda was loathe to admit it to the only other occupant in the old, abandoned warehouse.
Conflict brimmed within her.
How could she possibly consider herself the good of Destiny City when she caused the death of one of its citizens? How could she rationalize her continued assault on the Negaverse when one of their own teleported her to a strange location and saved her life? He could've easily let her fall, teleported himself to safety and allowed her to strike the ground in a pool of blood, akin to the civilian he assaulted so readily. He could've accused her of being a terrorist, an invader from another planet, a cosmic failure, but he saved her. What did that mean? Why did he do it? Why would he help someone considered an enemy? Surely he didn't find it within his benevolent capacity, because just a few minutes ago he intended to strike down an older woman...
Leda tried to struggle to her feet, but her legs afforded no strength. Instead she tried to prop herself against the side of the conveyor belt. It hurt to move, her hair felt damp with cold sweat or snow, maybe even blood, but her heart still beat frantically and she recognized she was still alive. Even if the nausea plagued her readily and the room spun at a slow oscillation. "Why did you save me?" She asked, her voice small and weak.
Maybe it wasn't the best question to ask, but she needed something to distract herself. If left unchecked, she'd continue to picture herself retching roses onto the filmy floor.
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Posted: Fri Dec 20, 2013 1:28 pm
He was surprised he even heard her, with the ringing in his ears and the torrent of thoughts among the chorus of screams in his head. He wasn't even sure he was awake until she called to her in that soft voice. He assumed himself to be lost in an ocean dreams, drifting and swaying on a frail piece of debris and seconds from being swallowed whole. The rhythmic sways lured his mind into his family's beach house in Galveston, how much more pleasant it would have been back home compared to the frozen north he escaped to. The warm sand would have been welcoming compared to this metallic and frost bitten sand he laid in, and the waves that splashed over his face was warm, comforting even with its salt... no, there were no waves hitting his face. That was his own years, yet they too felt cold, and with the other person calling out to him, the pull to consciousness was complete.
"Why?"
He spoke but he wasn't really thinking, and like the senshi, the captain had little strength left in his body to completely the fairly simple endeavor. He fell not once, but twice, each impact knowing the wind out of him but surprisingly he felt little pain. Maybe he was dying and this one was just his final burst of energy before the reaper dragged his soul to Hell? Or maybe he just felt nothing at all and would live on his life feeling nothing. Was that the cost of what he had allowed to happen?
"Why?" He asked again, managing to plant his knees onto the ground and hold himself with his arms, though they shook and trembled. The weight of the world was crushing, but he'd hold for a little while. But he head hung, his red hair frazzled and dirty, shining from the metallic dust and glistening in the dim lights that the cracks in the ceiling allowed in. "Why?"
He tried to crawl forward, as though getting closer to her would help him comprehend the question. He wobbled and nearly fell over, just catching himself and returning back to his stance. He trembled, then swayed, side to side, looking at the ground and muttering softly to himself, his confusion transforming into anger, little by little. His voice got louder, his words got sharper, and he practically clawed the dirt between him, digging in like a cheetah propelling itself from the ground to carry him forward with each movement. "Why did I... save you? Why... did I save you? Why did I save you? WHY did I save YOU? WHY DID I SAVE YOU!?!"
Feet, inches, finally he grabbed her arms, and all the strength he had left was spent in creating such a howl. "WHY. DID. I. SAVE. YOU?!"Strickenized We can probably start wrapping up soon...
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