Element of One

[Sh4dE]

Stan slowly nodded.

"Y-yes."

[Ohm]

He stood down, finally. Nodding along with what Derrick was saying, maybe he was finally getting through his thick skull not to mess with him?

He felt his face hurt from earlier. A brief look at his hand showed blood, another showcase of why he's not going to underestimate this guy. He wasn't taller than Stan, far from it and dude was chunkier than him. He had some power behind it if he tried, but right now he knew who was in charge.

"Good! That's real fucking good Stan! Now maybe you can tell me what the fuck you did back then and why?!"

He'd already shown himself as a piece of work back home, but this... shit, maybe he would be better off dead if he was so willing to throw it all away in his attempt.

[Sh4dE]

Stan smiled friendly at Derrick. He pushed his hands against the ground to stand up again and eyes his own dirtied suit before looking at Derrick again.

"I can tell you! So I was walking around and saw these two ugly girls. Kassandra and Marion. You know. The herculean swart and the perforated dog?"

Stan put away his gloves, dropped them onto the ground so he could use his fleshy hands to feel his face. Feel the blood running from his nose and see it on his hands.

"So I approached them. But before a conversation could start Miss Kassandra took her pipe-"

Stan quickly picked up the sword from the ground.

"...and hit my head!"

Stan swung and aimed for the head.

[Ohm]

He had been careless. He had thought him harmless with the beating he had given him and that maybe, just maybe, he'd get an actual answer. In a way, he knew it was useless. Derrick knew why he was doing this, guy was a patriot for his country through and through, revolting personality aside. It made sense, he was doing exactly what they wanted them to do.

Derrick hated that. Aside from, y'know, attempting murder. Stan couldn't muster an original bone in his body, that was his reasoning probably. The goverment wanted it, his parents wanted it, America wanted it. And that's all he needed to try and kill them all.

Suddenly, he saw him go for the sword. He tried to back away when he sprinted at him swinging it for his head. For a second, Derrick swore he could only see white as if his life flashed before his eyes, but really. That was when the sword hit him on the side of the head.

It was the blunt side.

He fell down backwards, disorientated and confused. His head had almost been taken off by the preppy in front of him. Using his sword after Derrick had given him a chance.

It was at that moment that he knew he couldn't let Stan live.

[Sh4dE]

Stan's body shook. He wanted to take a break from all of this. Exhaustion.

He had to end this.

Stan aimed for another hit.

[Ohm]

He saw the haze of a figure, a long shadow extending from it. He forced himself into a roll as the shadow went out of view. He hit the bench to the side as he felt a stinging sensation in his back.

He had been lucky with his earlier attack, but that luck had run out. And unless he did something, he was as good as dead.

Looking back, he saw the fluttering of cloth flying by and landing on the ground. The shadow was there, advancing with his blade ready to strike. On unsteady legs, Derrick forced himself up using the bench for support and rushed to the left before the sword hit.

Hearing this, Derrick rushed at him with his right fist in a wild swing.

[Sh4dE]

Stan was puched straight into the face and he wanted to cry.

His nose hurt a lot.

[Ohm]

The fist reached it's target and Stan staggered, in the red haze Derrick could see him do so. Making sounds only a mother could comfort.

Good. It'd give him something to think about it before Derrick runs him through.

With his left hand grasping for his sword, his right was back at work giving Stan a real reason to cry.

[Sh4dE]

Stan opened his mouth wide to breath. He did not want to breathe through his nose. The smell of blood in his nose. The congested feeling. Disgusting.

He stepped back, wanting to avoid the punches of Derrick.

Then he eyed the bag on the floor. The bag belonging to Derrick. Stan quickly grabbed it in hopes of being to defend himself against him.

[Ohm]

It was working! Derrick was leveraging hard for his space back and Stan was giving it up, bastard was learning why he should not have fucked with him.

He gripped tightly around the blade as his fist made it's contact and Stan had to breathe. He could hear him loudly as he stepped away as Derrick stood there holding his sword once more, sliding his hand over to the handle and held it a loft once more. He turned towards Stan and saw him going for his bag.

"Oh no, you fuckin' don't!" Both hands were around the handle and holding the sword in front of him, Derrick ran and made for a stab towards the mid section..

[Sh4dE]

Stan tightly grabbed the bag and blocked the swings of Derrick.

He then ran away as fast as he could, having problems with breathing through his bloodied nose and swollen lips.

((Stan Astley continued elsewhere))

[Ohm]

He missed! Stan had taken his bag from him and used it to block his blow. It caught Derrick off balance and Stan had taken that chance, that small chance to run away with his bag.

Like hell Derrick would allow that. Not after what he did, and what he's going to do.

He darted after him with the blade held on it's side on his shoulder.

"Get back here, you fuck!"

((Derrick Thomson continued in Seek A Way Out!))