(( Michael Crowe continued from Gonna Miss Me By My Walk... Miss Me By My Talk, Oh))
"One, two, three, Uh!" Michael took the torch, and poked a wad of toilet paper wrapped around one of the trees, lighting it up. My baby don't mess around because he loves me so and this I know for sho!~ Michael began brushing the next tree with the torch, to the off tune beat of the song he was loudly singing to himself. "Don't try to fight the feeling 'cause the thought alone is killin' me right nooooooow!~"
Michael moved the torch back and forth between trees, as his nasally high pitched singing reached it's crescendo, as he started running through the forest, setting everything within arms distance on fire.
"HEEEEEEYYYYY YAAAAAAA! HEEEEEEYYYY YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
Let's be honest. Nobody was watching him right now, he was all alone, and he was lighting shit on fire. He was having the time of his life. He was honest to God having some damn fun on this island. He got to light shit on fire, and he didn't have to worry about getting dirty looks for singing Hey Ya! at the top of his lungs. Truthfully, Outkast was one of his guilty pleasures, and though he would never admit it out loud, he considered them to be a bit better than Flock of Seagulls. I mean yeah, I Ran, Space Age Love Song, and Wishing were all great on the radio, but truthfully FoS kinda sucked lived. No real enthusiasm, you know? Yeah, there was nobody watching him, he was...
Wait...
Michael's eyes trailed to the nearest camera...
You know what? Ain't even mad...
Michael resumed acting flaming while flaming trees, as if nothing ever happened. It didn't matter anyways, if they were gonna blow his collar they'd have done it by now. Hell, maybe the off kilter singing is what's stopping them from turning his skull into a blood rocket, in which case he should keep it up!
He continued his song and dance routine "What's cooler than being cool?~ ICE COLD!~" as he made his way towards the open quarry field. By that time he was pretty much done "ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT..." but there was still one tree remaining on the list, that he hadn't touched yet.
Michael had walked up to the Totem-Tree he had made, the one with his 'face' on it. He didn't even hesitate to toss the torch on top of it. All of that, Aaron, Simon, Blaine... Shit was in the past, and now it was a new era. He didn't mind if people saw his face now, he had nothing to be ashamed of, what he was going to do, what everyone involved was gonna do... it would make up for any past sins here.
With that, he ran towards the Quarry, looking for a vantage point, somewhere high. He found it, and looked below at what he'd just caused. Yeah... No way the outside world wouldn't see this. He scanned the horizon, and saw more and more specs of light beginning to appear. North, South... Didn't matter, it was happening, the others had reached their spots.
Michael couldn't help but smile when he realized that this would all be over very soon.
You Got Me Burnin'
Tagging Kween
You Got Me Burnin'
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
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Latin For Dragula
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- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 10:28 pm
Fire came for It.
All else was quiet.
No voices.
No noises.
Only the boy with the fire.
It knew it was time to move.
It stood up from among the rocks and advanced in his direction.
Something tried to speak to It.
Something tried to caution It.
Something tried to reason with It.
It wasn't listening.
When It saw him bright and burning at the peak of his triumph, It opened fire.
All else was quiet.
No voices.
No noises.
Only the boy with the fire.
It knew it was time to move.
It stood up from among the rocks and advanced in his direction.
Something tried to speak to It.
Something tried to caution It.
Something tried to reason with It.
It wasn't listening.
When It saw him bright and burning at the peak of his triumph, It opened fire.
As he watched the flames spread he had to smile; this was working, and even better, they managed to do this right under Danya's big ugly nose. Seeing as he was still breathing, it meant that the bastard thought it wasn't worth it to pop the rest of the group's heads either. Even better, was that now that they got this done, it meant someone was going to come find them eventually.
Each spot was meticulously placed upon the map for a specific reason, an obvious pattern, something that's clearly man made, something that's not an accident. Yet, something as simple as saying 'hey, we're gonna make a big fire smileyface' is a surefire way to get your head turned into a neck rocket. But when you go 'let's make a bright trail to a specific area to lead people to us' then you make them think that something else is going on.
Truthfully, he felt kind of bad lying to them about this, but if he told the truth then that would have gotten the terrorists onto him, and even in the off chance that they still were, if the others knew what was really going on, they might not have tried to do this. Natali leaving was already a blow, there's no way this would've worked if anyone else disappeared. Yet here they were, they did this, they beat them...
It was only a mat-
You gotta be fuckin' kidding me!
Michael looked behind him and saw... Oh shit, that was KK... and she was... holding a big fucking gun. Michael took a step back as he watched her point the gun right at him, then another when he remembered just how many kills she had. He took one more step back as he realized that she was about to ice him, and then one more before he realized he couldn't feel the ground under him.
*DAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKA*
Michael saw the line of bullets above him as he fell down the side of the rock face, before smacking into the ground below, rolling down a nearby trail, then falling down a shorter drop. His back hit the ground as all the air escaped his lungs, leaving him gasping for breath. His arms moved up to the back of his head as he rolled around on the ground incapacitated. He forced himself to inhale a lungful of air and breath, trying to regain his composure.
He sat up, rubbing out the pain in his head as he remembered where he was, and what just happened. Panicking, he looked down at himself, patting himself down with his hands looking for potential areas he'd been hit with from the rain of bullets that almost got his ass. Lucky for him, none hit, he survived getting shot at by rolling down a damn hill. He fell onto his back again, letting out a quiet laugh to himself. He stopped immediately when he realized that KK was still there, now standing over the edge, looking down at her still very much alive target.
"Shit!" He shouted, as he forced himself to his feet and began sprinting to the burning woods.
Each spot was meticulously placed upon the map for a specific reason, an obvious pattern, something that's clearly man made, something that's not an accident. Yet, something as simple as saying 'hey, we're gonna make a big fire smileyface' is a surefire way to get your head turned into a neck rocket. But when you go 'let's make a bright trail to a specific area to lead people to us' then you make them think that something else is going on.
Truthfully, he felt kind of bad lying to them about this, but if he told the truth then that would have gotten the terrorists onto him, and even in the off chance that they still were, if the others knew what was really going on, they might not have tried to do this. Natali leaving was already a blow, there's no way this would've worked if anyone else disappeared. Yet here they were, they did this, they beat them...
It was only a mat-
You gotta be fuckin' kidding me!
Michael looked behind him and saw... Oh shit, that was KK... and she was... holding a big fucking gun. Michael took a step back as he watched her point the gun right at him, then another when he remembered just how many kills she had. He took one more step back as he realized that she was about to ice him, and then one more before he realized he couldn't feel the ground under him.
*DAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKA*
Michael saw the line of bullets above him as he fell down the side of the rock face, before smacking into the ground below, rolling down a nearby trail, then falling down a shorter drop. His back hit the ground as all the air escaped his lungs, leaving him gasping for breath. His arms moved up to the back of his head as he rolled around on the ground incapacitated. He forced himself to inhale a lungful of air and breath, trying to regain his composure.
He sat up, rubbing out the pain in his head as he remembered where he was, and what just happened. Panicking, he looked down at himself, patting himself down with his hands looking for potential areas he'd been hit with from the rain of bullets that almost got his ass. Lucky for him, none hit, he survived getting shot at by rolling down a damn hill. He fell onto his back again, letting out a quiet laugh to himself. He stopped immediately when he realized that KK was still there, now standing over the edge, looking down at her still very much alive target.
"Shit!" He shouted, as he forced himself to his feet and began sprinting to the burning woods.
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
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Latin For Dragula
- Posts: 399
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 10:28 pm
The bright boy ran towards his work with surprising speed after a fall like that.
It could have shot him.
It should have shot him.
Something tugged Its strings with curiosity to marvel at his escape.
It tugged back and sent her sprawling.
It would not entertain her right now.
Not again.
Not after so many failures.
It was going to prove, once and for all, It knew what was best.
Then she would never be rid of It.
It followed methodically, squeezing the trigger and kicking up dirt with every rushed salvo.
It was wasting Its ammunition.
Soon It would have none.
That was the plan.
Bright boy was fast.
Bright boy was durable.
But if It sent him panicking into the flames with his chest heaving and his heart pounding, It wouldn't have to lift a finger until It found him collapsed and coughing with smoke filled lungs.
Even she could see the value in that.
So they measured their breath together in the chase.
One.
Two
Three.
One
Two.
Three.
One.
Two
Three.
It could have shot him.
It should have shot him.
Something tugged Its strings with curiosity to marvel at his escape.
It tugged back and sent her sprawling.
It would not entertain her right now.
Not again.
Not after so many failures.
It was going to prove, once and for all, It knew what was best.
Then she would never be rid of It.
It followed methodically, squeezing the trigger and kicking up dirt with every rushed salvo.
It was wasting Its ammunition.
Soon It would have none.
That was the plan.
Bright boy was fast.
Bright boy was durable.
But if It sent him panicking into the flames with his chest heaving and his heart pounding, It wouldn't have to lift a finger until It found him collapsed and coughing with smoke filled lungs.
Even she could see the value in that.
So they measured their breath together in the chase.
One.
Two
Three.
One
Two.
Three.
One.
Two
Three.
Michael heard rounds popping off behind him as the greens and blacks in front of him turned into oranges and reds. He figured he could go lose her in the woods, and flank around her back to the parish to warn the others, or at least figure out a good vantage point. There was no way he could compete with fire power like that unless he had equal firepower, or the advantage of getting the drop on her.
More rounds rattled off near him. That can't be right, there's no way she'd see him through the flames up there, unless maybe she just got lucky with her shots. Michael zig-zagged then juked to the left, only to stop in his tracks as bullets landed just in front of him. He turned and went the opposite way, only for bullets to hit the tree just above him.
It was then Michael realized that KK wasn't standing on the cliff face taking random potshots at him, she was following him... Well shit, if she wanted him dead that badly, then she was gonna have to come get him. Michael changed his maneuvers up, and began moving closer to the center of the burning area, rather than the edges.
The smoke began getting thicker, the flames getting hotter. Michael kept as low to the ground as he could, trying to stay out of sight from the gunfire, and close to as much oxygen as he can get. He wasn't planning on staying here in the flames, he just needed a change in tactics. There was no way he could escape KK, so...
When flight doesn't work, what do you do?
That's right.
Michael got enough time in there that he could finally pinpoint where the bullets were coming from, he knew where KK was. It was time to turn this shit around...
You want me motherfucker? Come get me.
More rounds rattled off near him. That can't be right, there's no way she'd see him through the flames up there, unless maybe she just got lucky with her shots. Michael zig-zagged then juked to the left, only to stop in his tracks as bullets landed just in front of him. He turned and went the opposite way, only for bullets to hit the tree just above him.
It was then Michael realized that KK wasn't standing on the cliff face taking random potshots at him, she was following him... Well shit, if she wanted him dead that badly, then she was gonna have to come get him. Michael changed his maneuvers up, and began moving closer to the center of the burning area, rather than the edges.
The smoke began getting thicker, the flames getting hotter. Michael kept as low to the ground as he could, trying to stay out of sight from the gunfire, and close to as much oxygen as he can get. He wasn't planning on staying here in the flames, he just needed a change in tactics. There was no way he could escape KK, so...
When flight doesn't work, what do you do?
That's right.
Michael got enough time in there that he could finally pinpoint where the bullets were coming from, he knew where KK was. It was time to turn this shit around...
You want me motherfucker? Come get me.
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
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Latin For Dragula
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- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 10:28 pm
It stepped into the flames without fear.
He had time.
He knew where he was going.
He could lose It.
But as long as he kept running like scared game, the smoke would take him.
It rattled off shots in the smoke until the gun ran empty.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Not even to hit.
Just to terrify.
Keep his heart racing.
Keep those lungs choking themselves to death.
It didn't need the gun.
It needed nothing.
It wouldn't fail this time.
Even with Its prey long from sight It kept advancing. It could lead when Its steady breaths became too hard to manage.
It would find him.
Or It would run him to ground until the inevitable occurred.
He had time.
He knew where he was going.
He could lose It.
But as long as he kept running like scared game, the smoke would take him.
It rattled off shots in the smoke until the gun ran empty.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Not even to hit.
Just to terrify.
Keep his heart racing.
Keep those lungs choking themselves to death.
It didn't need the gun.
It needed nothing.
It wouldn't fail this time.
Even with Its prey long from sight It kept advancing. It could lead when Its steady breaths became too hard to manage.
It would find him.
Or It would run him to ground until the inevitable occurred.
More and more shots were going off into the smoke, but now they weren't as close as they were before. They were scattered, all over the place. She lost him, he could leave her here in the flames if he wanted to.
There was a dilemma with that though, what if she found him again? What if she followed him back to home base? Naah, he wasn't down for that, he was gonna stop her before she killed anyone else. It's the obvious choice, and not only that, the smartest one. Creeping low to the ground, Mike pulled the katana out from the makeshift chain sheath. He remembered what happened with Blaine, and he knew it'd be a mistake to just leave KK there to bite him in the ass later.
Hell, he didn't even have to kill her, the plan was just to stop her. If that meant killing her, then so be it, but if not, then what? All he'd have to do is poke her in the spine so her legs don't work then drag her away from the fire. Everyone still goes home, and KK still pays for her crimes even if nobody back home will prosecute her. Then again, with all the people she's killed, paralyzing her from the neck down would be more fittin- woah, cut that shit out, that's some fuckin' Blaine speak right there. If you're going that far, just ice the fucker and be done with it.
The other main problem was getting close enough to actually cut her without getting got by machine gun fire. Being shot probably isn't too fun. Being shot and getting left to burn to death even less. He had to maneuver himself just right, so he can get the drop on her and reach her before she turns around and aims at him. To do that, he had to find her before she found him, couldn't see shit in all this smoke, let alone breath. Michael regretted leaving the medical mask behind as he used his free hand to bring his undershirt up to his mouth. Michael followed the trail of bullets, finding out the general location they came from.
Knew it. There she was, standing at the edge of the flames. Shooting back and forth like a turret, firing blindly, hoping she'd hit him. He stayed low, resisting the urge to cough as he tried to find a pattern, a rhyme or reason to where she was shooting. From where she was standing, there was no way to get behind her, so the best he could hope for is when she honed in on another area and hope he can close the distance before she turned to him. He watched, he waited.
Watched.
Waited.
Watched...
Waited...
NOW!
And out from the smoke came one pissed off greaser with a fucked up face and a broke ass sword.
There was a dilemma with that though, what if she found him again? What if she followed him back to home base? Naah, he wasn't down for that, he was gonna stop her before she killed anyone else. It's the obvious choice, and not only that, the smartest one. Creeping low to the ground, Mike pulled the katana out from the makeshift chain sheath. He remembered what happened with Blaine, and he knew it'd be a mistake to just leave KK there to bite him in the ass later.
Hell, he didn't even have to kill her, the plan was just to stop her. If that meant killing her, then so be it, but if not, then what? All he'd have to do is poke her in the spine so her legs don't work then drag her away from the fire. Everyone still goes home, and KK still pays for her crimes even if nobody back home will prosecute her. Then again, with all the people she's killed, paralyzing her from the neck down would be more fittin- woah, cut that shit out, that's some fuckin' Blaine speak right there. If you're going that far, just ice the fucker and be done with it.
The other main problem was getting close enough to actually cut her without getting got by machine gun fire. Being shot probably isn't too fun. Being shot and getting left to burn to death even less. He had to maneuver himself just right, so he can get the drop on her and reach her before she turns around and aims at him. To do that, he had to find her before she found him, couldn't see shit in all this smoke, let alone breath. Michael regretted leaving the medical mask behind as he used his free hand to bring his undershirt up to his mouth. Michael followed the trail of bullets, finding out the general location they came from.
Knew it. There she was, standing at the edge of the flames. Shooting back and forth like a turret, firing blindly, hoping she'd hit him. He stayed low, resisting the urge to cough as he tried to find a pattern, a rhyme or reason to where she was shooting. From where she was standing, there was no way to get behind her, so the best he could hope for is when she honed in on another area and hope he can close the distance before she turned to him. He watched, he waited.
Watched.
Waited.
Watched...
Waited...
NOW!
And out from the smoke came one pissed off greaser with a fucked up face and a broke ass sword.
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
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Latin For Dragula
- Posts: 399
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 10:28 pm
Oh.
Ha.
It hadn't expected that.
Haha.
All this time It had imagined the bright boy running away.
Hahaha.
She poisoned things. Wanted him running. Wanted to avoid it all.
Hahahahahahaha.
Clouded Its judgement.
I'm going to die.
Shhh.
I'm going to die chasing Michael Crowe.
It could figure this out.
I wasn't even running.
It just-
The impact of her body against the tree shook the duality of her thoughts into sync for the first time in days. A sudden does of true, unfiltered mortality really put things into perspective. Or the concussion. Maybe there wasn't enough activity for two anymore. Oh well. KK stared up in her daze and tried to focus on the haggard face above her. It was going to be the last thing she saw.
She wanted to see it coming.
She wanted to know what they felt.
She wanted to feel again.
Just for a moment.
Ha.
It hadn't expected that.
Haha.
All this time It had imagined the bright boy running away.
Hahaha.
She poisoned things. Wanted him running. Wanted to avoid it all.
Hahahahahahaha.
Clouded Its judgement.
I'm going to die.
Shhh.
I'm going to die chasing Michael Crowe.
It could figure this out.
I wasn't even running.
It just-
The impact of her body against the tree shook the duality of her thoughts into sync for the first time in days. A sudden does of true, unfiltered mortality really put things into perspective. Or the concussion. Maybe there wasn't enough activity for two anymore. Oh well. KK stared up in her daze and tried to focus on the haggard face above her. It was going to be the last thing she saw.
She wanted to see it coming.
She wanted to know what they felt.
She wanted to feel again.
Just for a moment.
Michael stood triumphant over Katarina. This was it. It was over. She was over. Just like that, all the hype had faded, just like Blaine, she dropped like a rock in a lake. This infuriated Michael.
"How's it feel huh? Now you're the one layin' there at somebody else's mercy. How many'd you kill 'eh? Five or six?" Michael awaited a reply he would never get. This angered him more. "What? Don't fuckin' remember?! Hell I bet you don't even give a shit do you, what was it like, huh?! Feel good, you sick fuck!"
No answer.
No fucking answer.
"DO YOU EVEN FUCKING SPEAK?! WHAT? YOU'RE JUST GONNA SIT THERE ALL FUCKIN' MUTE?! YOU GOT ANYTHING TO SAY, OR YOU JUST GONNA SIT THERE AND STARE AT ME LIKE SOME DROOLING LOBOTOMIZED SCREWHEAD!"
Michael snarled, as he brought the sword closer to KK's throat. She wasn't worth the effort, just end it. "What's stopping me from turning you into a pez-dispencer, eh? You got anything you want to say? Any-fucking thing at all, or are you fine just sitting there fucking staring!" Do it. Kill her.
Not one word.
To be honest, he had to respect that. No begging, no crying. She was gonna look him into the eyes on the way to hell... Guess this is it. Fucking end it. Michael looked at the blade at KK's throat. If he let her go, she was just gonna do this shit again. "What's stopping me from killing you..." He cocked his head. Do it. Fucking do it. Fucking do it!
Michael took a step back and raised the sword above his head. He brought it down, stabbing.
The blade wedged itself into the ground next to KK's head. He couldn't do it. Even now, knowing the potential for consequences of letting her go, he couldn't do it. The idea of just murdering someone in cold blood disgusted him, even if they deserved it. You might think that Michael was helpless, that he was simply going to let KK go, that he was not be able to do anything about it. You'd be thinking wrong though.
"Wanna know what's stoppin' me from killing you? I'll tell you, just like I told Blaine." Michael pulled the blade out of the ground, taking his hand and wiping the dirt from the blade. "I won't kill helpless people; not even slime like you." Michael threw the sword down by KK taking a step back, getting himself between KK and her gun.
"But now... you ain't helpless anymore." Michael grabbed the chain and pulled it from his jacket. "...And I don't see nothing wrong with a fair fight." Michael knelt down by the gun, picking it up, and removing the magazine, before tossing the gun somewhere behind him. "The only way out away from these flames is behind me. You ain't getting out unless you get through me."
"Get up."
"How's it feel huh? Now you're the one layin' there at somebody else's mercy. How many'd you kill 'eh? Five or six?" Michael awaited a reply he would never get. This angered him more. "What? Don't fuckin' remember?! Hell I bet you don't even give a shit do you, what was it like, huh?! Feel good, you sick fuck!"
No answer.
No fucking answer.
"DO YOU EVEN FUCKING SPEAK?! WHAT? YOU'RE JUST GONNA SIT THERE ALL FUCKIN' MUTE?! YOU GOT ANYTHING TO SAY, OR YOU JUST GONNA SIT THERE AND STARE AT ME LIKE SOME DROOLING LOBOTOMIZED SCREWHEAD!"
Michael snarled, as he brought the sword closer to KK's throat. She wasn't worth the effort, just end it. "What's stopping me from turning you into a pez-dispencer, eh? You got anything you want to say? Any-fucking thing at all, or are you fine just sitting there fucking staring!" Do it. Kill her.
Not one word.
To be honest, he had to respect that. No begging, no crying. She was gonna look him into the eyes on the way to hell... Guess this is it. Fucking end it. Michael looked at the blade at KK's throat. If he let her go, she was just gonna do this shit again. "What's stopping me from killing you..." He cocked his head. Do it. Fucking do it. Fucking do it!
Michael took a step back and raised the sword above his head. He brought it down, stabbing.
The blade wedged itself into the ground next to KK's head. He couldn't do it. Even now, knowing the potential for consequences of letting her go, he couldn't do it. The idea of just murdering someone in cold blood disgusted him, even if they deserved it. You might think that Michael was helpless, that he was simply going to let KK go, that he was not be able to do anything about it. You'd be thinking wrong though.
"Wanna know what's stoppin' me from killing you? I'll tell you, just like I told Blaine." Michael pulled the blade out of the ground, taking his hand and wiping the dirt from the blade. "I won't kill helpless people; not even slime like you." Michael threw the sword down by KK taking a step back, getting himself between KK and her gun.
"But now... you ain't helpless anymore." Michael grabbed the chain and pulled it from his jacket. "...And I don't see nothing wrong with a fair fight." Michael knelt down by the gun, picking it up, and removing the magazine, before tossing the gun somewhere behind him. "The only way out away from these flames is behind me. You ain't getting out unless you get through me."
"Get up."
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
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Latin For Dragula
- Posts: 399
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 10:28 pm
Her hand trembled up towards the hilt of the sword and drew it away slowly. He was letting it go. He was telling her to fight him when he didn't think she had any fight in her left.
In all of the intensity of the moment, KK had forgotten one critical pattern of behavior over her time in the game. Every single moment she stared at the other side of death like this and waited for it to inevitably take her, the same thing happened. You could start a race to it. No matter whether she was exposed to hidden allies, lying bloody on the floor, fading out underneath tight hands, or staring down the barrel of a gun, within seconds they became arrogant. They offered her an opportunity, and they bared their neck.
She knew they were different. Of course she did. It'd been established days ago. She couldn't be surprised anymore even with her minor lapse of memory. Just the feel of the broken blade in her hand forced unfamiliar adrenaline to course through her. Something within her growled. But it was too late. She'd pursued detachment and dehumanization both for herself and the others ever since she woke up, but there was a trade being made here. Michael gave her the sword, and she gave him acknowledgement as a person. A stupid, stupid person leering in her way.
For once, that did nothing to dull her urge to kill him.
Katarina sprang to her feet with a snarl and swung wildly at his body. The sword was even more unfamiliar to her than her gun at this point, but its use was even more simple. Michael was fast enough on his feet to keep her at bay for a cut towards his face, and an unsuccessful stab at his stomach, and a slash to his throat that nearly carried her off balance with its fury. The following wide upward arc as she recovered drew a line of red across his left shoulder, though, and gave her the opening she needed to catch him off balance. Clumsily twirling the sword around to try and catch him with the blade again wasn't going to be fast or brutal enough though. She wanted this to be over. She swung the returning hilt back towards his jaw with all the strength she could muster.
Even the growing fire couldn't cover up the satisfying sound of it snapping out of place.
In all of the intensity of the moment, KK had forgotten one critical pattern of behavior over her time in the game. Every single moment she stared at the other side of death like this and waited for it to inevitably take her, the same thing happened. You could start a race to it. No matter whether she was exposed to hidden allies, lying bloody on the floor, fading out underneath tight hands, or staring down the barrel of a gun, within seconds they became arrogant. They offered her an opportunity, and they bared their neck.
She knew they were different. Of course she did. It'd been established days ago. She couldn't be surprised anymore even with her minor lapse of memory. Just the feel of the broken blade in her hand forced unfamiliar adrenaline to course through her. Something within her growled. But it was too late. She'd pursued detachment and dehumanization both for herself and the others ever since she woke up, but there was a trade being made here. Michael gave her the sword, and she gave him acknowledgement as a person. A stupid, stupid person leering in her way.
For once, that did nothing to dull her urge to kill him.
Katarina sprang to her feet with a snarl and swung wildly at his body. The sword was even more unfamiliar to her than her gun at this point, but its use was even more simple. Michael was fast enough on his feet to keep her at bay for a cut towards his face, and an unsuccessful stab at his stomach, and a slash to his throat that nearly carried her off balance with its fury. The following wide upward arc as she recovered drew a line of red across his left shoulder, though, and gave her the opening she needed to catch him off balance. Clumsily twirling the sword around to try and catch him with the blade again wasn't going to be fast or brutal enough though. She wanted this to be over. She swung the returning hilt back towards his jaw with all the strength she could muster.
Even the growing fire couldn't cover up the satisfying sound of it snapping out of place.
Michael's head snapped back as the hilt smacked across his face, knocking his jaw wide open. He stumbled back as he saw KK wind up to swing again, barely avoiding getting bisected down the middle. His face felt as though a horde of bees were stinging it, from the bottom of his neck, all the way up to just under his nose as his face was forced open from a permanent grin into a permanent scream.
The pain made it hard to think as he swung back towards KK randomly, trying to go onto the offense. But the clumsiness of the metal whip, and the new searing pain in his face and shoulder mixed up with the old pains in his fingertips and loins made any sort of effectiveness with the chain absolutely nil.
KK noticed this, and went back on the offense, bullrushing Mike, who moved out of the way, much like a matadore. KK had almost lost her balance from that charge, but Michael didn't take advantage of it, there wasn't much he could do in this state, with this weapon. He needed to take a more familiar approach to this. He was a brawler, not a knight.
KK turned around after the charge and noticed that Michael wasn't rushing in, he was just circling her. The chain he was using as a flail was now currently being wrapped around his arm like a gauntlet, covering most of his fist and wrist. He took the end of the chain, and tightened it by his elbow. His eyes looked up and locked with KK's as something started to replace the pain.
After all the things that's happened to him, Michael knew that taking KK down wouldn't be easy, but he took solstice in the fact that it wouldn't be easy for her either. All the shit he's experienced, from getting strangled, mangled, and uhhh... shit can't think of any words that rhyme, give me a break I'm in fucking pain here the other stuff, a fire was lit under him. He was not letting all this shit he did go to waste. He was not going to go out one day before the rescue teams arrived, with Danya saying some stupid little quip like KK had shut Michael up permanently by kicking his jaw open or some other shit. He was gonna make it out, and his friends were gonna make it out, and most of his enemies were gonna have to go home and face the consequences for the shit they did. KK was either going home in handcuffs, or in a body bag.
His hands clenched together, as the creaking of burning wood was met with the creaking of something else, his jaw shaking as if he were standing in the arctic. If KK thought she was hot shit, she was wrong. Compared to Blaine, she was just shit, and if he could handled what he went through at the warehouse, he could handle what he was going through here!
KK charged. Michael stepped back again dodging the first swings, before KK raised the sword above her head. This was his chance. Michael raised his metal covered arm, as KK brought down her katana. With a resounding clank, it felt as though the world shook. KK's eyes widened as she realized what Michael had done with the chains. Pain surged once again, as the groaning of Mike's vocal cords met the groaning of his jaw. Mike's jaw shook, quivered, then snapped shut. The raging pain in his face began to dull down into an ache he was all too used to at this point.
Michael tried to think of some witty one liner as he regained the ability to talk, but nothing came to mind. Instead, he opted for the simple but just as offensive shit eating grin, as KK's eyes bugged out even wider.
Her eyes practically bulged out their skull when he brought his free arm up just under her rib cage, the uppercut lifting her off the ground.
The pain made it hard to think as he swung back towards KK randomly, trying to go onto the offense. But the clumsiness of the metal whip, and the new searing pain in his face and shoulder mixed up with the old pains in his fingertips and loins made any sort of effectiveness with the chain absolutely nil.
KK noticed this, and went back on the offense, bullrushing Mike, who moved out of the way, much like a matadore. KK had almost lost her balance from that charge, but Michael didn't take advantage of it, there wasn't much he could do in this state, with this weapon. He needed to take a more familiar approach to this. He was a brawler, not a knight.
KK turned around after the charge and noticed that Michael wasn't rushing in, he was just circling her. The chain he was using as a flail was now currently being wrapped around his arm like a gauntlet, covering most of his fist and wrist. He took the end of the chain, and tightened it by his elbow. His eyes looked up and locked with KK's as something started to replace the pain.
After all the things that's happened to him, Michael knew that taking KK down wouldn't be easy, but he took solstice in the fact that it wouldn't be easy for her either. All the shit he's experienced, from getting strangled, mangled, and uhhh... shit can't think of any words that rhyme, give me a break I'm in fucking pain here the other stuff, a fire was lit under him. He was not letting all this shit he did go to waste. He was not going to go out one day before the rescue teams arrived, with Danya saying some stupid little quip like KK had shut Michael up permanently by kicking his jaw open or some other shit. He was gonna make it out, and his friends were gonna make it out, and most of his enemies were gonna have to go home and face the consequences for the shit they did. KK was either going home in handcuffs, or in a body bag.
His hands clenched together, as the creaking of burning wood was met with the creaking of something else, his jaw shaking as if he were standing in the arctic. If KK thought she was hot shit, she was wrong. Compared to Blaine, she was just shit, and if he could handled what he went through at the warehouse, he could handle what he was going through here!
KK charged. Michael stepped back again dodging the first swings, before KK raised the sword above her head. This was his chance. Michael raised his metal covered arm, as KK brought down her katana. With a resounding clank, it felt as though the world shook. KK's eyes widened as she realized what Michael had done with the chains. Pain surged once again, as the groaning of Mike's vocal cords met the groaning of his jaw. Mike's jaw shook, quivered, then snapped shut. The raging pain in his face began to dull down into an ache he was all too used to at this point.
Michael tried to think of some witty one liner as he regained the ability to talk, but nothing came to mind. Instead, he opted for the simple but just as offensive shit eating grin, as KK's eyes bugged out even wider.
Her eyes practically bulged out their skull when he brought his free arm up just under her rib cage, the uppercut lifting her off the ground.
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
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Latin For Dragula
- Posts: 399
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 10:28 pm
If there was air in her lungs, she would have laughed. The short gasps she was able to get as she stumbled back turned to almost delighted wheezes at the absurdity of the moment. There was coincidence, and then there was the unexplainable. Everything Michael did drew him further and further towards being an agent of the latter. Because for days she had tried to trick herself into a place where no one here counted as a person anymore. They were just walking corpses because they had to be for her to survive. It had to be inevitable. If she could accept it was inevitable, there would finally be no hesitation.
Michael didn't force her to pretend. With his shambling steps and his lumbering swings and his broken jaw and blood spattered body and crazed, defiant, empty gaze, he was already a dead man walking. No person, no human could take the punishment he did. He was improbable.
Terrifying.
Everything she needed.
The punches kept coming. It was impossible to avoid all of them, and through all the smoke it was getting hard to tell where they were even aiming until some new part of her blossomed in pain. The best she could do was keep the shots focused on her body while her blade went to work on his. Streaks of red dripped in brief flashes when she could glance away, but never long enough to tell how much damage she was doing. Each glance cost her precious time to stay out of his way. It was time to change tactics.
KK stumbled backwards as quick as she could for some distance and stopped looking for the small openings. Her focus narrowed on his swinging fists and staying out of their way without any response. She was going to catch him, and she was going to break him for good.
Michael didn't force her to pretend. With his shambling steps and his lumbering swings and his broken jaw and blood spattered body and crazed, defiant, empty gaze, he was already a dead man walking. No person, no human could take the punishment he did. He was improbable.
Terrifying.
Everything she needed.
The punches kept coming. It was impossible to avoid all of them, and through all the smoke it was getting hard to tell where they were even aiming until some new part of her blossomed in pain. The best she could do was keep the shots focused on her body while her blade went to work on his. Streaks of red dripped in brief flashes when she could glance away, but never long enough to tell how much damage she was doing. Each glance cost her precious time to stay out of his way. It was time to change tactics.
KK stumbled backwards as quick as she could for some distance and stopped looking for the small openings. Her focus narrowed on his swinging fists and staying out of their way without any response. She was going to catch him, and she was going to break him for good.
Michael caught it. He knew the beat of the tune, the steps to the dance. He was back in familiar territory with familiar weapons now. No cheap shots. No sneaking from behind. No helplessness, no coward shit. He watched as KK sputtered and held her chest, he watched as she looked up and prepared to charge again.
He didn't give her the chance as he sent another uppercut to her, this time targeting the face. She didn't need the chance. She was a hell of a lot more dangerous than he expected, and to be honest, he was thankful for that, it meant he didn't have to hold back. He wouldn't get the chance to stand back and taunt, to showboat, to smile and wave at the cameras only to get smacked in the back of the head. After all, you couldn't get in over your head if you're already walking in the deep end.
KK brought her sword down again, Michael brought up his arm. The clank of metal sounded off, and the ring of the bell meant it was time to punish. With each crack of metal on metal, Michael punished with his fists. He alternated between blocking and juking, taking each chance he could to capitalize on KK's mistakes. For every one wound she gave him, he would return with four, five, or even six at a time.
With each hit, Michael became more and more focused. His features blanked into nothing but a serene satisfied grin as each hit was dished out and received. His targeted areas became more precise, going from all over the body to one particular area. Michael noticed KK's bloody nose, much like KK noticed his slit grin. That little fucked up part in the back of his head that existed on nothing but spite and pettiness honed in on it, wanting to inflict as much pain as it had received. Michael let it take over, his fists making their mark on her nose over and over again.
KK wasn't going down easy though. She started to time her hits to his blocks. She started laying more cuts on him. It was getting harder and harder to dodge or block. She feinted, and she started punishing him for his pushes. She was pushing back again, and now Mike was back to the defense, and it was getting a hell of a lot harder to defend. Michael realized that KK was regaining her composure.
The reason he was doing so well before was that he caught her off guard. He showed her that he wasn't as easy as she thought, and he scared her because of that. She went from a cold heartless terminator to nothing more than prey to a predator. Now that she was aware of what he was, she was backing herself into a corner. She was going all out like a rodent fighting back against a snake.
Michael realized his best chance for winning was psychological. If she was fighting back like a rat, then he would have to change himself from a snake, into a cat. Whereas a snake just ate their prey, at cat played around. A cat would latch on to a mouse's tail and paw it around. Mike knew what he had to do, and it was something he was good at, something he tried to force himself not to do out of respect. It was kinda funny how ironic it was.
Michael began back peddaling, staying just out of range of KK's sword each time he swung. He began moving faster, almost as if he was retreating. He fell back, he knew KK would follow if he did. He started to run into the flames, with KK following behind. She must've thought that she had him scared, that he was running away, that she was gonna win this if she followed him and finished him off.
Truth be told, she was right, for two out of three. But that third one was the last trick up his sleeve, and it was his best trick.
As he continued to run deeper into the woods, he made sure to watch his pace so KK kept up. If she stopped, so would he. He wanted to stay just out of her reach until he knew she was dead set on killing him. Once he reached the spot, he turned around, and ran right back towards KK. She didn't expect it as a flurry of fists met her direction, and with no time to raise her sword, she had no choice but to take them.
As KK stumbled back, Michael finally broke the silence since the fight started. "Is that all?" He saw that stone cold look change once again, but instead of fear, it gave way to anger. This was exactly what Michael was looking for as KK got back up and began swinging in his direction. He played off of it, taunting between each miss, "You done yet?!" each block "Come on, you gotta try to hit me!" . He replaced his punches with slaps and backhands, hooping laughter in between everything. A wicked shit eating grin froze on his face, only changing when one of his insults left his ragged lips.
KK charged again trying to send the sword right through his face. He caught her by the arms, blade narrowly missing his throat. He felt his grin widen as he pushed back, sending KK stumbling. But he wasn't done yet, no, he ran forwards and brought his legs up, sending her flying back.
Michael watched as KK peeled herself off the ground, looking him in the eyes. Michael took a step back, knowing exactly how to piss her off next. He had the bombshell of taunts. He raised his hand up, and beckoned her over with his finger, eyebrows wagging, his lips pursed together to blow a mock kiss at her.
That was the fastest he'd seen her get up yet. She charged, swinging blindly, and Michael saw the opportunity he was banking on. A flurry of fists came forward, his arms disappearing into a blur as he sent more punches then he ever imagined he would in his entire life, hitting harder and faster than he thought possible. He continued swinging, faster and faster, each punch making their mark as this fight became ever so obvious that it was over.
He sent his right arm out to throttle KK by the throat as he prepared to deliver the final hit. His chain wrapped fist raised behind him, he only paused to give last set of words before he sent KK straight to hell.
"It's over KK, you're finished."
He pulled his arm back as his fist tightened around her throat.
"But if it's any consolation, that hit to the jaw hurt like a motherfucker!"
He didn't give her the chance as he sent another uppercut to her, this time targeting the face. She didn't need the chance. She was a hell of a lot more dangerous than he expected, and to be honest, he was thankful for that, it meant he didn't have to hold back. He wouldn't get the chance to stand back and taunt, to showboat, to smile and wave at the cameras only to get smacked in the back of the head. After all, you couldn't get in over your head if you're already walking in the deep end.
KK brought her sword down again, Michael brought up his arm. The clank of metal sounded off, and the ring of the bell meant it was time to punish. With each crack of metal on metal, Michael punished with his fists. He alternated between blocking and juking, taking each chance he could to capitalize on KK's mistakes. For every one wound she gave him, he would return with four, five, or even six at a time.
With each hit, Michael became more and more focused. His features blanked into nothing but a serene satisfied grin as each hit was dished out and received. His targeted areas became more precise, going from all over the body to one particular area. Michael noticed KK's bloody nose, much like KK noticed his slit grin. That little fucked up part in the back of his head that existed on nothing but spite and pettiness honed in on it, wanting to inflict as much pain as it had received. Michael let it take over, his fists making their mark on her nose over and over again.
KK wasn't going down easy though. She started to time her hits to his blocks. She started laying more cuts on him. It was getting harder and harder to dodge or block. She feinted, and she started punishing him for his pushes. She was pushing back again, and now Mike was back to the defense, and it was getting a hell of a lot harder to defend. Michael realized that KK was regaining her composure.
The reason he was doing so well before was that he caught her off guard. He showed her that he wasn't as easy as she thought, and he scared her because of that. She went from a cold heartless terminator to nothing more than prey to a predator. Now that she was aware of what he was, she was backing herself into a corner. She was going all out like a rodent fighting back against a snake.
Michael realized his best chance for winning was psychological. If she was fighting back like a rat, then he would have to change himself from a snake, into a cat. Whereas a snake just ate their prey, at cat played around. A cat would latch on to a mouse's tail and paw it around. Mike knew what he had to do, and it was something he was good at, something he tried to force himself not to do out of respect. It was kinda funny how ironic it was.
Michael began back peddaling, staying just out of range of KK's sword each time he swung. He began moving faster, almost as if he was retreating. He fell back, he knew KK would follow if he did. He started to run into the flames, with KK following behind. She must've thought that she had him scared, that he was running away, that she was gonna win this if she followed him and finished him off.
Truth be told, she was right, for two out of three. But that third one was the last trick up his sleeve, and it was his best trick.
As he continued to run deeper into the woods, he made sure to watch his pace so KK kept up. If she stopped, so would he. He wanted to stay just out of her reach until he knew she was dead set on killing him. Once he reached the spot, he turned around, and ran right back towards KK. She didn't expect it as a flurry of fists met her direction, and with no time to raise her sword, she had no choice but to take them.
As KK stumbled back, Michael finally broke the silence since the fight started. "Is that all?" He saw that stone cold look change once again, but instead of fear, it gave way to anger. This was exactly what Michael was looking for as KK got back up and began swinging in his direction. He played off of it, taunting between each miss, "You done yet?!" each block "Come on, you gotta try to hit me!" . He replaced his punches with slaps and backhands, hooping laughter in between everything. A wicked shit eating grin froze on his face, only changing when one of his insults left his ragged lips.
KK charged again trying to send the sword right through his face. He caught her by the arms, blade narrowly missing his throat. He felt his grin widen as he pushed back, sending KK stumbling. But he wasn't done yet, no, he ran forwards and brought his legs up, sending her flying back.
Michael watched as KK peeled herself off the ground, looking him in the eyes. Michael took a step back, knowing exactly how to piss her off next. He had the bombshell of taunts. He raised his hand up, and beckoned her over with his finger, eyebrows wagging, his lips pursed together to blow a mock kiss at her.
That was the fastest he'd seen her get up yet. She charged, swinging blindly, and Michael saw the opportunity he was banking on. A flurry of fists came forward, his arms disappearing into a blur as he sent more punches then he ever imagined he would in his entire life, hitting harder and faster than he thought possible. He continued swinging, faster and faster, each punch making their mark as this fight became ever so obvious that it was over.
He sent his right arm out to throttle KK by the throat as he prepared to deliver the final hit. His chain wrapped fist raised behind him, he only paused to give last set of words before he sent KK straight to hell.
"It's over KK, you're finished."
He pulled his arm back as his fist tightened around her throat.
"But if it's any consolation, that hit to the jaw hurt like a motherfucker!"
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
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Latin For Dragula
- Posts: 399
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 10:28 pm
It was over.
She was beaten and battered and held in place with the life being choked out of her while he babbled away. He'd routed her defenses and abandoned his own completely to finish her. In a few moments his fist was going swing down as hard as he could carry it and end all of this.
It was over.
She had him right where she wanted him.
The naked, unprotected flesh of his arm around her throat shimmered with sweat in the fire's light. It contrasted the dull sheen of her dripping blade nicely in the moment before they met. Her eyes locked on his to catch his reaction as the sudden splat of steel cleaving through meat spread through the air. The hesitation could be felt in his fingers as they tried to maintain their advantage around her throat at the same time he wanted to tug away from the pain. His fist didn't come, and he was too caught between instincts to steal her breath. The next swing came harder, sending a spray across both of their bodies. She didn't wait for him to react this time. She swung wildly across his arm like a mad butcher trying to strip every scrap of meat from the bone. Skin and blood and chunks flew off under her assault and still his determination held him in place as he tried to find the strength to shut her off, but she was too far gone to care about breathing. To care about winning. To care about living. The only thing at the front of her mind right now was how badly she needed to carve his arm into a bloody stump.
She was beaten and battered and held in place with the life being choked out of her while he babbled away. He'd routed her defenses and abandoned his own completely to finish her. In a few moments his fist was going swing down as hard as he could carry it and end all of this.
It was over.
She had him right where she wanted him.
The naked, unprotected flesh of his arm around her throat shimmered with sweat in the fire's light. It contrasted the dull sheen of her dripping blade nicely in the moment before they met. Her eyes locked on his to catch his reaction as the sudden splat of steel cleaving through meat spread through the air. The hesitation could be felt in his fingers as they tried to maintain their advantage around her throat at the same time he wanted to tug away from the pain. His fist didn't come, and he was too caught between instincts to steal her breath. The next swing came harder, sending a spray across both of their bodies. She didn't wait for him to react this time. She swung wildly across his arm like a mad butcher trying to strip every scrap of meat from the bone. Skin and blood and chunks flew off under her assault and still his determination held him in place as he tried to find the strength to shut her off, but she was too far gone to care about breathing. To care about winning. To care about living. The only thing at the front of her mind right now was how badly she needed to carve his arm into a bloody stump.
I Have Made An Error In Judgement.
Those words popped up in his head the moment he realized that despite all that he'd done to damage her prior to this, KK's sword had not left her hand. This moment was certainly shaping up to be the second worst moment of his life, and it may end up getting first place! This was that type of moment where the introductory chords to Roundabout, or Morgan Freeman saying that it was this second he knew he fucked up as the blade swung up and caught him just under the elbow. Hell, he didn't even get a chance to feel it by the time she was going for the second swing.
He certainly felt it that time. The arm he had primed to punch in KK's shit laxed and jolted as the arm that reached out to choke her shit was currently getting it's shit cut into by a jagged chipped piece of shit sword. Michael growled as he brought his wrapped arm forwards, to tighten a second hand around KK's throat as the other was being chopped and sawn into.
After the fifth and sixth swings, he realized how stupid and futile it was, and immediately tried to pull back. Pulses of agony and electrical shocks of his nerves being severed one by one sent spasms up his shoulder and down his spine. One arm let go, but the one being cut to fuck didn't. Why? Who knows, maybe it was shock, maybe the tendons were so destroyed that his hand couldn't even move, maybe he just plain forgot. It didn't matter though, one swing later, and Michael was free, and the pain was gone.
Sort of...
Michael's hand was still grasped around KK's throat even as he backed away. His eyes locked onto it near instantly, before they turned down to his arm. Everything below his elbow was a shredded mess of skin flaps and torn muscle, more blood than he's ever seen in his entire life spurting out.
The pain came back even harder than before. Michael screamed.
Those words popped up in his head the moment he realized that despite all that he'd done to damage her prior to this, KK's sword had not left her hand. This moment was certainly shaping up to be the second worst moment of his life, and it may end up getting first place! This was that type of moment where the introductory chords to Roundabout, or Morgan Freeman saying that it was this second he knew he fucked up as the blade swung up and caught him just under the elbow. Hell, he didn't even get a chance to feel it by the time she was going for the second swing.
He certainly felt it that time. The arm he had primed to punch in KK's shit laxed and jolted as the arm that reached out to choke her shit was currently getting it's shit cut into by a jagged chipped piece of shit sword. Michael growled as he brought his wrapped arm forwards, to tighten a second hand around KK's throat as the other was being chopped and sawn into.
After the fifth and sixth swings, he realized how stupid and futile it was, and immediately tried to pull back. Pulses of agony and electrical shocks of his nerves being severed one by one sent spasms up his shoulder and down his spine. One arm let go, but the one being cut to fuck didn't. Why? Who knows, maybe it was shock, maybe the tendons were so destroyed that his hand couldn't even move, maybe he just plain forgot. It didn't matter though, one swing later, and Michael was free, and the pain was gone.
Sort of...
Michael's hand was still grasped around KK's throat even as he backed away. His eyes locked onto it near instantly, before they turned down to his arm. Everything below his elbow was a shredded mess of skin flaps and torn muscle, more blood than he's ever seen in his entire life spurting out.
The pain came back even harder than before. Michael screamed.
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.