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 Posted: Tue Jan 21, 2014 6:22 pm
Rank metal tainted the air, its taste of acrid electricity on the tongue. A battlefield, a bloodbath, a burnt body - its origins mattered little. With a scent so pungent that it hung heavy in his nasal passages, Bischofite opted to abandon the scrapyards in search of cleaner air.
He never investigated the presence of a body beneath an abandoned crane, rusted into position and poised in a manner demanding grandeur but devoid of awe. A structure it remained, wholly sedentary, left as naught but a tombstone to mark the death of another financial dream among a city steeped in sieges. Even the crumpled girl, the broken doll, the would-be idol with her raspy singing and her pending auditions penned into a Hello Kitty notebook, lingered in her own makeshift pit as a second marker to this wasteland of fallen potential. For a moment, Bischofite wondered if he gravitated toward the broken wreck in search of his own worth as questioned by Zinkenite, but he let slip that bleak thought in his departure.
He buried more than his thoughts in forsaken cesspools like these.
But the metropolitan stretches, with their alkali odors and their noise pollution forming a permanent rush in the back of his thoughts, proved no more welcoming a scene. Harsh lights spewed from the windows of multistory buildings, private searchlights splayed outward for the weak and wayward. Street lamps cast their jaundiced sheen across alleyways better left to darkness. People thrived in throngs under the starry sky, dim with impending storms, and they coursed through the streets in search of bigger, better attractions. More to dim the senses - more to distract from the realization that death stalked the streets in the form of nightmarish monsters and unearthly powers alike.
Whether through annoyance or avoidance, Bischofite peeled across rooftops in search of the scarce stretches of solitude, the rare expanses bereft of socialites or sociopaths. And in his search, Bischofite froze with a sudden, caustic realization. It burned through his thoughts with a hatred so great that he felt his toes curl within his boots, as one foot poised atop the lip of a precipice. He was wandering again. Listless. Directionless. Still plagued by the jarring events that led to the reestablishment of his rank, where now he stood a neutered ghost of the general he was before. How trite. How meek. How spineless.
But an auric energy pulsed outward, like a beckoning beacon, a definitive and exact point only blocks away. A star lit upon the ground, much like Zirconia, but decidedly darker. Chaotic in nature. He recognized such energy from earlier meetings, a series of disgustingly disappointing confrontations with the dead children of Remarque's Court. The ragtag assembly of insipid little marionettes with their equally petulant puppet master - one lingered now in the distance, moving at a slow pace from what he could tell. Listless, or purposeful in the hunt?
Zinkenite mentioned one worth noting in their mercurial meeting. He wondered if he possessed such fortune to find her, or if the aura radiated from Remarque himself.
Splitting into the streets like an erstwhile shadow, Bischofite utilized his newly rediscovered agility to close the gap with alarming success. Through gritty alleys, up half-broken fire escapes, across badly-shingled roofs he traveled to meet with the figure in question. And once he crested the apex of a slanted roof, he spotted a senshi sporting the same peculiar black wings that Remarque wore so proudly. So smugly. The Saarlander general, despite his strong willpower, could not quell the scathing sneer that warped his features.
Three small wraiths followed dutifully behind her, translucent in nature, yet one grew nearly palpable, he recognized - and remembered with such blackened hate.
By now she recognized his presence, if the brunette possessed half a mind, so Bischofite leapt from his perch and lighted atop a bench framing the street. Golden eyes scrutinized the streaming, sheer sash decorated in camouflage pattern, along with the predominantly black accents that struck across her body with a harshness that somehow exemplified the wrongness of her court. "You're one of Remarque's tawdry little dolls, I see. So which are you? What name do you corrupt wis' your pointless Court's ineptitude?" Crossing the bench like a set of haphazard stairs, Bischofite approached the unknown Dark Mirror eternal. Rusted metal still lingered in his nose like the stench of Ares' amassed necropolis. Dead children, she said. Dead children indeed.
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Posted: Tue Jan 21, 2014 7:09 pm
Over the months since the alliance between the Dark Mirror Court and the Negaverse had been severed, Leto had found that she had more and more hostile encounters with the Agents that served Chaos. While she had tried her best to maintain pleasantries with every agent that she met, at the end of the day her Court was her priority and she would defend it and herself to the death. Spilling the mouthy Lieutenant's blood came easy to her, easier than it should have perhaps, and she kicked at the body that her Wraith had passed through to render it unconscious. He would live to see another day, that was mercy enough in Leto's mind. Moving on, she passed through the streets and mirrors of the city, her three wraiths remaining close by. She only stopped in her tracks when the power signature of a General made her cringe, the feeling seemingly heavy at the base of her neck. Was he or she out for revenge? It seemed she would find out rather soon as the power signature grew closer and closer. Instead of running from it she moved towards it, walking at a casual pace. She stopped when he seemed to be nearly on top of her, an eyebrow quirked when he dropped down to the bench near to her. She took a few steps to close the distance between the two of them as he moved forward on the bench, her dark red eyes narrowed to slits. "I'm sorry... What the ******** did you just call me?" Forget niceties. "One of Remarque's little dolls was it? Remarque is my Vice Captain, General," her arms crossed over her chest. "Zink seems to be slacking. I'm Sailor Leto, Captain of the pointless Court you so fondly speak of." Sensing her unease and her temper flaring ever-so-slightly, her Wraiths began to circle the General, waiting for the signal from the Eternal Senshi. A very slight shake of her head called them off before she finally took a moment to look the much taller man up and down, taking in his outfit and his war-painted face. "And you are?"
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Posted: Sun Jan 26, 2014 12:24 pm
"Tawdry little dolls, girl. Tawdry. Little. Dolls." Each enunciation fed the smile on his face that grew in such robustness that he looked a glutton for it. No remorse tainted his gaze, but her mention of Zinkenite stirred a blackened, grimy hate that simmered in his bones. He seethed, smile corrupting into sneer, while chakrams shimmered into existence within his grasp. "Zinkenite mentioned you before. One of ze 'brilliant minds' of your scattered clan, if memory serves. He spoke highly of you, and obviously puts stock in ze drivel he served me, if your pet name for him speaks for anysing. Zink. How trite. How... insulting." The very word rattled through his throat.
Bischofite raised his pair of deadly weapons, framed together in a prayer position peaking just beneath his chin. His gaze raked across the circling wraiths with ample derision, reciting scalding memories of his last bitter moments as a civilian, energy raped and stolen from him by these repulsive, shambling beasts. If they lingered in their strange, oppressive dance, he had a mind to disperse their ethereal forms, and give rise to dust not unlike the painted shadows from Hiroshima. But their pissed off pipsqueak of an owner possessed the sense to call them off their childish encirclement, and Bischofite bit his tongue of any further insults.
It might've even earned her a name.
"General Bischofite," the stark Saarlander replied in tones lacking such choking hatred. Various additions surfaced to further highlight his revulsion at his current position, from general of s**t and piss to worthless and abrasive servant to a crumbling empire. But the misanthrope learned to curb his abrasive wretchedness in the presence of unknowns, strangers like Leto, whose outward appearance belied none of her strength. The general grew wary of her, set his teeth on edge for her. He didn't like her absence of sudden aggression. "Leto - you should be well-informed of Remarque's impotence by now. Zat putrid little husk of a man hardly constitutes a Vice-Captain. Might I suggest picking someone possessed of a modicum of merit in ze future. If zere is a future."
The general approached in measured steps, sharp and persnickety in the ground he chose to tread upon. His entire demeanor spoke of scrutiny, of hypervigilance and over-analytical tendencies. And as each layer of nerves settled into a single step, he slowly digested the caustic situation he erected out of his own blistering denigration. Now began the second segment of his scrutiny, as he dismissed his chakrams to tug at every fingertip on his gloves before shirking them entirely. Tossed aside, they crumpled in a shallow, broken pothole.
"Tell me, Leto," the general began while a naked hand struck out like a snake to usurp her whispering, translucent sash. "What enamors you so greatly wis' zis Dark Mirror Court? Did Ares pour your reconstructed soul from her ewer into such a sickeningly subservient body zat you cannot even concief' of her potential wrongs? Someone once told me zat she created you repulsif' little creatures to prop up and haf' tea parties wis' so she could convince herself she wasn't alone. Are you afraid of zat trus', Leto? Or do you haf' a more compelling tale? Somesing a little more potent to sway zis general's scazing opinion?" Algid, emotionless eyes quickly blazed with an almost sickly pleasure toward her potential answers. Of all the ways she could possibly dazzle him... Or would she squander such priceless opportunity?Sylent Nyte sorry bout the wait, stupid life and its stupid things
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Posted: Thu Feb 13, 2014 2:30 pm
Leto couldn't help but roll her eyes as the General repeated himself. Yeah, she was convinced that this dude wanted to be punched. While her hands balled into fists at her sides, she couldn't help but raise an eyebrow curiously when his chakrams appeared in his hands. "Zink and I have a mutual respect... My brilliant mind makes it nearly impossible not to love me." Her deep red eyes looked nothing short of amused. "Unfortunately, General Bischofite, my dear Queen Ares chose Remarque, not me." She shrugged her shoulders lazily. If there was one thing Leto never did, even when she was a White Moon Senshi, it was question Ares' decisions. If she chose Remarque, there was a reason for it, she supposed. Her gaze moved down to his hand which gripped her camoflage-printed draping before shooting back up to meet his eyes. Without her convenient power boost, the General probably would've had Leto nervous... Instead, she smiled at him. What enamored her with the Dark Mirror Court? There was no question that could possibly have made her happier to answer. "I was a White Moon Senshi before I was ever part of the Dark Mirror Court, and I served Ares even then. Have you ever known someone to want something so badly that they went to Chaos and created it out of nothing? Ares did something that no else could, and her reasoning is none of my concern. Ares was the only White Moon Senshi to lead a group of fighters rather than weak, pathetic peace-makers, and successfully capture, torture and kill Negaverse Agents for her cause. There has never been an operation on that scale on either side of this war since then. Why wouldn't I follow someone like that?" That was when something changed and stirred inside of her. That nagging feeling of needing to show this clueless Negaverse officer just what exactly it was that Ares gave her. "And most importantly, General." Leto took a step towards him, closing any distance there would have been left. She was practically pressed against him as she hissed, the words heavy with her English accent. "She gave me power." And suddenly, her chaotic aura erupted around them, flaring blindingly as she shifted easily from her Eternal to her Princess form, large black wings bursting from her back.
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Posted: Sun Feb 16, 2014 7:16 pm
You haven't endeared yourself to me quite yet, he wanted to say.
You're nothing but a toy for your wretched little deceiver of a queen, he wanted to say.
No matter how silver your tongue may be, you cannot raise the worth of detritus, he wanted to say.
Yet he only gaped, initially in shock that transitioned to excitement seamlessly. A silent gasp succumbed to a mischievous grin as his gaze settled on two prominent wings that protruded from her shoulder blades, black as ink and shining starkly beneath the jaundiced street lights. "Oh," he started, the exclamation rolling off his tongue with no shortage of breath. The chaotic beacon that now replaced her earlier incarnation singed his senses, left him breathless with the thick black clouds of dark energy that rolled off her with remarkable potency. Even her garb adopted a sharper edge, whispering of jungles and rules that urged the strong to subvert the weak.
He could scarcely believe his eyes, his auric perceptions.
"Oh, you are quite a treat!" His unnerving smile cemented itself into his paint-stained features as he reached for the unusual pair of wings protruding from her back. Naked fingers brushed feathers with an intimacy as yet unknown to another human, and he pinched a delicate shaft between his fingers while he ran his thumb toward the tip of the feather. "Like velvet," he replied, voice hardly above a whisper to suppress a quaver of vibrant excitement. Her presence spoke of hot coals against an algid body - a welcome heat, but one all to eager to sear to the bones. Bischofite understood it with such acuity that his hands very nearly shook with the anticipation that she could easily crush him in an instant.
The general knelt, knees poised just above the ground, as he continued his persnickety examination of Leto's sudden transformation. "Oh, zis is absolutely fascinating..." A low, guttural laugh issued from his throat in confirmation. With a slow, drawling breath, he craned his neck to look upward toward the chaotically-charged princes. Every respiration seemingly singed his nose, his lungs - smoke with a propensity for violent death. Zinkenite already offered a demonstration of his power, and her aura coursed over him in equally oppressive power. Surely she managed the same feats in equal ease.
"Leto," he issued in a near singsong capacity, "you could kill me wis' a twitch of your fingers, could you not?" Slowly he rose, deliberate footsteps indicating his encirclement toward the back of the revealed princess. Each hand slid easily within the plethora of feathers coating the extra limbs, and Bischofite leaned on them gently as he bent toward the princess's ear. Only when his lips were nary a short breath from the shell did he finally pause his imposing movements. "Could you shatter my jaw wis' a punch, Leto? Could you snap my neck and listen for ze wet crack zat follows? Could you splinter my ribcage and listen to ze blood bubble srough my sroat?
"Could you reduce me to a broken doll, like ze rest of your despicable court?" With a short huff, the smile hovered palpably on his features.
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Posted: Sun Feb 16, 2014 8:38 pm
Her red eyes were narrowed, staring coldly into his gold ones. The slightest smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, his obvious excitement only made her all the more cocky. The power that surged through her when she was in this form was still overwhelming for her, and to be standing here in front of a General talking rather than using her power to rip him apart was practically torture. Her wing twitched when he reached out to stroke her feathers, a strangely intimate experience that almost made her uncomfortable. While she was much shorter than the man, she stood confidently, waiting while he inspected her in a way that no one else had ever done before. While there had been quite a few people that she had shown her new-found power to, no one was quite so... enthraled with it. With her. Her eyes moved downward as he kneeled, her body trembling with her own anticipation. Her fingertips itched for bloodshed. Gaze following him until he circled behind her, she took a deep breath to steady herself. The feeling of his hands sliding over her wings made her heart race. Leto swallowed, her eyes closing as he leaned into her. The more he spoke about how powerful she was, the faster her heartrate, the shakier her breathing. It wasn't until his comment about her 'despicable court' that she finally snapped out of the trance that he seemed to put her in. Upper lip curling back in a snarl, Leto spun to face Bischofite, her fingers quickly entwining themselves in the fabric that covered his chest. With the power difference being so significant between the two of them, the tiny Princess had no difficulty shoving the General onto the bench that he had first dropped onto. She followed onto the bench, her left leg on one side of him and her right knee pressed to his chest to pin him in place. She looked as wild as her outfit would make her seem- almost as if her past in the jungle came naturally to her. "Don't push me, General... My love for Zinkenite only goes so far." Her wings were flared to their fullest extent behind her, her temper steadily rising. One hand snaked up to the nape of his neck and she grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging on it roughly. "It would be a shame for me to have to take out such a powerful member of Chaos. But I will not hesitate to kill you. I'm not afraid of a little blood on my hands."
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Posted: Sun Feb 16, 2014 9:21 pm
Bischofite hissed in pain when his back cracked against the bench, and soon after a knee prevented ease of breathing. Even so, a slow, whistling laugh still bubbled out of his throat in the same fervent frequency as before. Cocking his head backward with his fistful of captive hair, a thinly lidded golden gaze settled on her angered countenance, complete with a smirk of fading mirth. "I would clap, but you're quite in ze way." Despite his attempts to shift position, her knee pinned his sternum firmly. Each breath drew against her sizable weight against him, rousing the ghost of breakage healed not long ago. His respirations quickened with those fresh memories.
"Powerful member of chaos?" He spat, contempt palpable in his potent words. "Who are you kidding? Powerful member of chaos... Hah!" A derisive laugh eked out from his pressured lungs. "Maybe you're sinking of someone else, for Zinkenite's peers saw fit to haf' me demoted to lieutenant not long ago. Zinkenite himself has me pinned under his sumb as we speak. I am not a soldier valued, Leto, so if you were looking for a sizable trophy kill, you missed your mark. You see, your court and I... We haf' somesing in common. We're bos' useless." A crooked smirk sprawled across his lips, reflected in his eyes as if he won.
Another attempted shift confirmed her knee cemented into his chest with sizable force. "Oh Leto," he mocked in a warm tone. "You're turning me on." Bischofite wagered the lie may distract her sufficiently to execute his wayward plans. His bare fingers grasped the wooden slats beneath him, coaxing staccato gasps from the material before splintering ensued. "How delightful you are, wis' your black wings, your coursing power, your delectable waves of limitless chaotic energy..." Bischofite closed his eyes and pursed his lower lip between his teeth, drawing a shuddering sigh he rehearsed time and again.
And in the process, the wood slats uttered one final crackling scream before breaking into his hands. The general tipped backward readily with the added weight of Leto's knee, and with hands now braced against the ground he executed an assisted backflip wherein he kicked the chaotic princess's weight off of himself. Once lighting, a breath passed his lips and he hardly cocked a glance over his shoulder before a second's passage delivered him just beneath the nearby street lamp.
Its sallow light cast jutting, jagged shadows across his face as the general started a slow and deliberate clap. "Ze catalyst among ze motionless. Action among inaction. Ze lif'e girl among ze dolls. It's a welcome change, you see." To prove his point, Bischofite's arms opened wide in a theatrical, sweeping gesture, assisted by his lean forward. Straightening up, Bischofite proposed a more serious exchange. "I want to tell you a story, Leto. Will you allow me zat? Oh, but you see, I haf' zese..." Bischofite winced and clicked his tongue, seemingly searching for the proper word. "Peculiar reservations about free information, so perhaps we can strike a deal. We would exchange stories - mine, of ze origin for my hatred; yours, of ze origin for your friendship, camaraderie, whatever wis' Zinkenite. Is zat fair, or would you prefer to shatter my jaw now?"
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Posted: Sun Feb 16, 2014 9:54 pm
Leto's expression immediately turned to one of disgust at mention of Zinkenite's peers. She knew all too well who Bischofite referred to, and her hatred for the Negaverse General Queen that had summoned her to break their alliance fueled her temper further. While she had done her best to maintain relations between the two Chaotic groups, Leto had come to a point in her Senshi career where quite simply, she had stopped giving a ********. She would not be their puppet. The Alliance came between Ares and Tanzanite, and with the half-youma psycho b***h and Queen of Smoke being missing in action, there was no glue to hold them together anymore. Her lower lip slipped between her teeth, her eyes half-lidded. "If you are so useless, you would not have been re-promoted to your rank of General, Bischofite. I'm not stupid, I know how the Negaverse works. In fact, if you were demoted and then returned to your current Rank, you must be someone worth my time..." She leaned in and purred into his ear, "Consider it payback for getting me all hot and bothered, stroking my feathers." And suddenly the bench and mouthy General dropped from under her and she was being kicked backwards. In one quick motion, she was flipping herself up to her feet and ready to fight back, only to her disappointment that he was no longer in front of her. Turning towards the sound of clapping, she let out a breath in an attempt to calm herself. Taking the few steps to close the distance between them again, in whatever dance it was that they seemed to be doing, Leto pumped her large black wings to lift her several inches off of the ground and she swung once, a quick backhand in an attempt to split his lip. Her arms crossed over her chest, finally able to look him directly in the eyes. "I really, really want to shatter your pretty little jaw," she sighed in an overly-dramatic, dreamy way. "But alas," she waved a dismissive hand in the air. "If you would prefer story time to a little rough and tumble, then I will oblige." Dropping to the ground, she smiled coolly at the General. "You intrigue me for some reason. Don't let me be disappointed in my decision."
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Posted: Sun Feb 16, 2014 10:17 pm
Bischofite took the sudden strike, stumbling backward into the lamp post. After pressing the back of his hand to his mouth, the general leveled a curious golden gaze upon his adversary. In a slow blink, he shut his eyes, counting seconds until the blistering, throbbing pain subsided to a dull, pulsing ache. With a steady sigh, he regarded her once more in feverish, almost fanatical interest. "On ze contrary, I much prefer a little rough and tumble to story time - if I had known you were of like mind, I would'f rescinded my earlier statement. Ach so!" The general smiled softly, and from the base of that knowing smile descended a thin line of blood.
"I much prefer you shatter my pretty little jaw, as nossing about a monster should be pretty - wis' zat, I am certain my former superior would agree. My tepid relationship wis' ze Dark Kingdom, and utterly asinine introduction to your court, may sit and stew a while longer." Remarque's abject failure to control his paltry pest proved boring and pointless in comparison with what agony he might sustain by Leto's hand. What stood before him now was an absolute pinnacle of the court, power bred with power to a harrowing extent, and he loathed to squander it on trite times long past. Perhaps Remarque would receive his rightful reproaches on another day - for now he craved a taste, even a touch, of the power taunting him from only inches away.
If pain formed the key to change, then he was desperate for it - Bischofite needed change, before his pitiful stagnation and listlessness neutered his remaining potency.
A familiar leather grip formed in his palms once more, and Bischofite mirrored the weapons against each other in a prayer, blades ominously close to his throat. "But let's liven it up wis' a wager - if I win, I'll tell you my story. Afterward, I expect you will break every bone in Remarque's body for his idiocy. If you win..." A sharp huff, a breath of a laugh, and in place of his visage stood the sickly street lamp.
A blade kissed feathers, and a handful of their severed, hollow shafts petered to the ground unceremoniously. "Well. Name anysing you want, Princess." The general's arm arced across his body, and a chakram shattered the glass of the lamp, breaking the bulb inside and sending wayward shards atop any who thought to linger near its pole. Another bout of laughter peeled from the general while he leapt from his position, lighting atop half the bench that they shared moments before. "Show me ze power of a princess, Leto. But - I expect all my tees' returned to me when you're finished. Assuming I'm not dead, of course."
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Posted: Sun Feb 16, 2014 11:21 pm
There was something about this General that drew Leto to him- maybe the fact that he was so enamored by her power. Maybe that he was stupid enough to challenge a Royal to a battle. Maybe, and more likely than any other reason, it was because he wanted the bloodshed as badly as she did. That he craved the fight, that he seemed to need it. It was rare for Leto to find someone who wanted the same thing as she did, and that made her more excited than anything else. The corner of her lips turned upward in a smile as his chakrams were summoned to his hands once more- this time with deadly intentions. Eyebrows raised at mention of Remarque and his supposed idiocy, and then once again Bischofite was no longer in front of her. If there was one thing she hated besides the fact that she couldn't reach into the General's chest and rip out his starseed, it was that she needed a mirror to teleport. Here, she lacked them and that was her one weakness. Before she had the chance to move towards his power signature, she felt the blades slice through her wings. A sharp hiss escaped her lips. A pump of her wings had her propelling forward, ducking away from the lamp who's glass was raining down on the area. "I make no promises, General. I may start a collection of teeth." After using her wings to push her upwards, she folded them onto her back and threw herself at General Bischofite. With a slight spin, she slammed her metal bracer into his jaw. "You have my attention, love. I desperately want to know why I'm breaking Remarque's bones on the behalf of some General."
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Posted: Mon Feb 17, 2014 9:05 am
Despite practiced timing, she allowed no chance to dodge. The perched general lacked the time to react in recognizing her approach, and in that same flash of an instant, her bracer cracked into his jaw, propelling him off the bench. Upon striking the grimy, sooty asphalt, he rolled once before coming to a stop. Bischofite groaned softly as he pressed a hand to the impact site, pain lacing his every thought. As he tried working his jaw, an unnerving pop stemmed from each movement. Even his teeth rocked steadily upon pressure from his tongue. "It's simple," he tried to say, but spat blood in the midst of his statement. "Remarque is ze reason why I haf' zis power - what he did was unacceptable." Slowly he peeled himself off the ground, straightening to his full height.
Gold eyes fell on the princess before he leapt atop a second street light, where he let fly both weapons at the beacon of chaos below. Afterward he hopped expertly atop the lamp's edge before descending into a nearby tree, where his weapons precipitated in his hands once more and he crossed to a thick bough. A heavy slice to its midsection liberated the latter half from the tree, and the general lighted upon the ground before the branch itself fell toward Leto's location. Warily he raised his chakrams and retreated backward, aiming to retain distance between them to prevent her advantage.
"Initially his little vermin set upon me as a civilian, and at zat tim, I did not recognize zem for anysing more zan a passing hallucination. Zey drained me nonezeless. He tried to tell zem to stop, you know, but even zose shoddy youma replicas haf' ze sense to ignore him." Bischofite attempted a smile that contorted to a grimace from pain. In backing up, his sweeping gaze settled on a fire hydrant not far from their location. "And zat was when a general arrived - a general by ze name of Benitoite." And from there, he intended to fully depart from the truth.
Bischofite began a sprint toward the hydrant, chakrams at the ready should his far faster opponent intend to stymie his progress.
"If you'd like to know ze rest, you should leaf' me alif'e enough to speak."
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Posted: Mon Feb 17, 2014 11:04 am
When Bischofite fell to the ground and rolled, Leto moved forward towards him. Prowling like a jungle cat on the hunt, she moved slowly and deliberately. Red eyes that burned red-hot with both anger and excitement turned quickly upwards to the streetlight that he momentarily perched himself upon. Following his every move, as if it were instinct she bent her body in an attempt to avoid the chakrams that flew at her with a speed that she wasn't expecting. While she managed to avoid one, the second grazed her cheek before reappearing into his hands. Wiping at the blood that was now beading down her cheek with the back of her hand, she grinned up at him. With a loud crack followed by a heavy thud, the branch came down on Leto, not bothering to move from it. With ease, the tiny Princess - who, had she not been powered would've likely been crushed - stirred beneath the wreckage before the branch seemed to be 'moved' aside, her wings flaring and shaking themselves out. "Shouldn't you be thanking my dear comrade Remarque, for allowing Benitoite to bestow you with such power?" She stalked towards him. "You should be praising my Court, not fighting it!" She laughed, loudly and cruelly. "Did bringing you into Chaos destroy your life? Have you lost your precious humanity?" Leto spat, "Who cares? Either grow into your power and be something great, or step aside so those of us who relish in it, who willingly give up their human side, can take all of the sweet, delicious Chaotic power for ourselves." Watching him sprint towards the fire hydrant for whatever it was that he had planned, Leto smirked. She knew better than to put herself in close range of his deadly weapons. "Hidden Ambush!," she called into the dark and suddenly the ground under their feet erupted into what seemed like an earthquake. Large chunks of earth raised and dropped randomly, tall grasses bursting out of the cracks. The Princess of Camouflage was true to her sphere as she seemed to disappear before Bischofite's eyes.
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Posted: Fri Feb 28, 2014 5:31 pm
"Perhaps I would be sanking him if he hadn't tried to kill me in an effort to cover his own ineptitude," the general spat harshly. His countenance belied his childish excitement toward his adversary's ability to shrug off a tree branch, to return so easily to her previous standing. However, her quick assumptions doused his fun, as she verbally lashed him for his hatred toward her subordinate. In that rebuke came an unforeseen alteration to his goal, as readily manipulating the girl proved more difficult than he initially considered. The brown-haired princess, the queen of smoke and mirrors... Surely she stood a formidable opponent in the art of manipulation.
Still, tantalizing fun lingered in preying upon the story of the misunderstood hero, the one brought against his will into an organization he hated and forced into acts repulsive to his moral code. "Oh, how it did, Leto," he returned, barely capable of concealing giddiness. "Before Chaos, I led a perfectly normal life, you see - I had friends and aspirations, hobbies and outings, future plans and even a girlfriend. I had everysing you would expect of a normal teen. I wanted to become a coroner. I wanted to cut into someone's wasted husk and look at ze tolls life placed on zeir vital organs, how zeir liver is steak or zeir heart is swelled, how ze nerves in zeir feet rotted away from diabetes... I wanted to look at a story already written and completed."
The ground rumbled, cracking and jutting at harsh angles before grass spooled out from its dark interiors, covering the urban landscape with dense jungle plains and an oppressive mist. Leto wholly vanished from his sight, further exacerbating his barely-contained mirth. Finally he surrendered to a blatant grin, dispelling any compelling argument to his fictionalized tale. "But after being drafted into Chaos, I lost interest in my friends and hobbies - my peers took precedence. After my promotion to captain, I found out zat my girlfriend was mauled to deas' by dogs weeks before - and soon after I learned zat zose dogs weren't dogs at all.
"How much of a story do you want, Leto?" He asked the jungle around him, arms opened wide in welcome to its strange blend of cacophony. "I could gif' you anysing to qualify my hatred for Remarque! I could gif' you nossing at all! Ze man is an irrevocable failure for his constant inaction and inability to control ze monsters he is supposed to command! Yet your court sings his praises..." Now dropping his arms, the general readied his weapons for an immediate retort, a harsh laugh, even the snap of a twig half-covered by chattering birds. Yet...
He found nothing.
"I could tell you ze trus', but you would haf' to beat me first." As a pulsing beacon of chaotic energy, she would likely find it no challenge at all. After backing toward a tree, Bischofite liberated a battered book of matches from his pocket and broke one off of its barely intact strip. Upon lighting it against his boot, he tossed the match to the underbrush, hoping it might catch long enough to create a diversion. Soon afterward he reappeared, lighted atop the bench, as he threw a chakram blind into the foliage.
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