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Post by The New Student Dean on Aug 19, 2007 20:07:56 GMT -8
Previously, On Caravan Consternation: Prequel--- Men crashed in, lightning fast. Obviously having planned this out for a long time. A VERY long time. Glass initially blasted forward, but then, started blowing out of the now blasted-open windows, cutting up anyone who happened to still be in the way. Three men in particular, towards the back, immediately went for "Kaufman"..."..Wait.. WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS-LADS!?"---
Immediately, one swung a bat at his head, but "Kaufman" moved in forward, almost seemingly to have known where the bat was aiming towards, his eyes suddenly very, VERY alive, as he weaved back and forth, slamming his right hand and gripping into the hidden mask face of one of the fighters, gripping onto it, left hand whirling out his Nagant...
*BLAM!* *BLAM!*
Point blank. The man keeled over, as the others tried to recover at this, "Kaufman successfully pushing out another, cocking out his Nagant again, both him and another, raised, ready to aim..
*BLAM!*
A little smile."..Nice shot... lad..."Falling over, one of the men in black quickly whisked him up, onto the rope, and started running on top of the train. How? Well... considering the extra weight on their shoes, there appeared to be some sort of... magnetized thing going on here. But who're we to talk about physics?
This was going to be a LONG... ride...
---Strange beeping noises were heard underneath now..
IMPORTANT INFORMATION:
-Foreign Fighters: These are men of all 18 & up, trained in various arts of fighting from around the world, comprised of nearly every ethnicity. French, Canadian, German, Irish, Mexican... you name it. As such... and equipped with various blunt objects, it appears that there is no one else with any guns (seeing as how the faculty are the main targets here...). A reason to be kept alive? Perhaps... They are rather fluent speakers of multiple languages though... and are very tricky, may even try to 'pretend' to fight alongside you, 'pretend' to be sympathetic... DO NOT UNDERESTIMATE THE FOREIGN FIGHTERS! They do have Qi's! Some elemental, some more tricky! [You Roleplay Fighting Them]
[Statistics: Strength: 45, Dexterity: 40, Constitution: 55, Intelligence: 50, Wisdom: 40, Charisma: 60]
[Foreign Fighter Count: 10]
-Eating: Unless you have RPed eating, you get a -50% deduction to your Constitution! For ten posts, at which point your adrenaline will naturally keep you up to fighting strength!
-Poison Food: If you have eaten ANY food offered on the train ride... you get -25% of your strength deducted for five posts! After which, you shall vomit it out, and feel better.
-Poison Drink: If you have drunk ANY liquids offered on the train ride... you get -25% of your speed deducted for five posts! After which, you shall vomit it out, and feel better.
-Copy Cat: Any and all special moves and Qi used here will be used to haunt you... (Not by the Foreign Fighters, either...). |
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Post by Travis Delmonte on Aug 19, 2007 21:05:10 GMT -8
Travis had almost attacked the boy who had taken those cigarettes back. But then something would happen. All of the sudden the shock waves would come. Travis would stumble backwards slight, toward the seat he had initially been sitting on. He would glance out the window for a second before quickly returning his attention back to the others in the car, mainly the one he had stolen the cigarettes from. His mouth moved, and words would have been shouted.
"I KNEW THIS WAS TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE!"
Unfortunately though, he doubted that his words had been heard. As the instant he had shouted, the sound of breaking glass and rushing winds would erupt inside the car. A trap. A fucking trap, and there really wasn't any way out. Not when the train was moving this fast. This had all been planned. Why? Travis was not sure. But it seemed that he had missed quite a few things since he left. Boy did he hate that..
In an instant, one of the black 'commandos' was on him as he turned back to face the window. He seemed to be equipped with a metal baton of some sort. As instinct took over, Travis would hop to his left. A slight smirk was on his face as he almost wanted to laugh at his opponent for missing already. That smirk would be wiped clean when his opponent redirected his attack so that he sent that blow against Travis' left side of his head. Pain shot through his brain as he stumbled sidewards. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt pain like this, or if he had ever felt it like that before. He was sure an instant bruise would occur, or it would show up soon.
Again, as he straightened himself up, his opponent would sent a quick straight forward jab toward Travis' neck with that baton. He would jump backwards again glancing backwards to check and see how much room he had before he was at the end of the car. A few feet maybe. Turning back, that baton would be coming in quick, and Travis knew he needed to do something or feel even more pain. His hands would lift, and he would aim to clap and press those hands hard against the shaft of that baton. His opponent would then smile as he did so. Travis' eyes would widen as he stared toward the rather large man, that was smiling so wide now.
"What the fuck is your problem man?! Why are you staring at me like that?! ARE YOU GAY OR SOMETHING?!"
It was then that those vivid blue orbs dropped toward the handle of that man's baton. He would spot a button, but there was no time to do anything as his opponents thumb simple flicked and pressed it. The baton, which was already about 2.5 feet long, would suddenly extend. Adding another foot or so to the length of the weapon, thus allowing it to jab painfully into Travis' throat.
Coughing uncontrollably as he released grip upon the weapon and backed himself up another two feet, Travis' eyes would widen. If he didn't get his head into this fight soon, he would probably find himself knocked out quickly. Or worse, killed.
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Post by Veyugan ~* on Aug 19, 2007 21:26:07 GMT -8
'... The fuck?'[/i]
Sounds of shattering glass penetrated into Veyugan's ears. His natural reaction? His body lurched forward - hand shooting out to grab his kris. Slowly, he stood - turning to see what the hell was going on. White orbs scanned the train car behind him as he envisioned several 'new' bodies that occupied the very car he was in. By the looks of it, they didn't seem to smash through the windows - blunt weapons raised - with peaceful intent. Veyugan slipped into the aisle - his back to the front of the car as he witnessed pink mist spray - two new orifices being created in the back of one invader. That had to hurt. The man hit his knees - showing to Veyugan the person who had delivered the shots. It was the man he walked by at the station. The one that offered the cigarettes. Confusion struck Veyugan hard. What the hell was going on? It didn't even occur to him they were under attack until it was too late. A lead pipe struck the side of his left thigh - sending Veyugan collapsing into the ground.
What a bitch move.
Veyugan hit the ground, flipping onto his back and unsheathing his own weapon. The kris was raised - blade parallel to the floor - with his right palm against the side of the blade. The second swing was blocked. As the man recoiled from his downswing, Veyugan thrust his legs outward into the man's gut. A soft grunt came from Vey as the spot on his thigh throbbed with pain. Luckily, the counter bought him time to stand. So, seeing as he wasn't in a great position, he scurried to his feet as quick as he could. One could call it 'Spidey-senses' or peripheral vision if they wanted. When Veyugan was in his act of standing, he noticed another person charging for him. As he became balance, he leaped to his side - jumping into the chair closest to him. A kendo stick swung horizontally where he was standing. Just in the nick of time. Veyugan's left hand shot up - grabbing a golden rail that ran across the top of the car. His right foot shot to his right as he hoisted himself upward. The heel of his foot connected squarely with the forehead of the man with the wood-woven-sword. Instantly after the kick connected - forcing the man back - Veyugan landed, turning to see the one with the lead pipe coming after him.
"Oh fu-...''[/b]
The only motion that could be made in time was for Veyugan to shoot his left arm upward to protect what he could of his face. Again, the lead pipe connected with the backside of his left tricep. Pain radiated through his body as he grunted against the pain, bring his right arm across his body - blade of his kris intended on making this man scream. Each swing of that heavy lead pipe hindered the man's quickness. He had to deal with recoil every time. That's why Veyugan's blade made a nice gash in the man's gut. A sadistic smile washed across Veyugan's face as the man retreated backward - holding his stomach to stop the blood. Veyugan's left arm fell to his side as he hesitated in standing up. There was something wrong with him. His attacks weren't as precise. His speed was alright. However ... it seemed he was lazy. His strength was suffering. Had it been the food?
Curse curiosity.
As Veyugan stayed kneeling on the ground, the kendo stick landed hard against his left shoulder. A powerful, paralyzing blow. The stick struck Vey's trapezius - causing a surge of pain to flow through his arm - temporarily disabling it. Veyugan leaped forward slightly - making it seem as if he was shooting forward, and away from the man. However, he planted his right foot, turning and quickly forcing the blunt tip of the kris's hilt toward the man's chin. It seemed as if the man expected as much. A side step was made - avoiding Veyugan's attack. The stick was flung toward Veyugan's ribcage. It collided - causing him to crater slightly around the blow. Another grunt. He was getting messed up fast. These ... invaders were not people to take lightly. Anger sparked within Veyugan as he recoiled from the hit. Now, the man was behind him and a little to his left. Veyugan swiftly brought the blade across his body - still pointing it backward. A motion was made - to make it seem as if he were going to stab himself. The blade was thrust back - catching the kendo-man by surprise. The blade sliced into the man's left shoulder - severing the connection between his deltoid and upper arm. To put things simply ... the control of that arm was gone.
Tables have turned ... slightly.
Veyugan took a step back - taking a chance to look things over. So far ... he sustained a blow to his left thigh, tricep, and ribcage. His thigh pounded with pain, his left upper arm was sort of numb, and it slightly hurt to breath. On the other hand ... He caused one man to lost control of his arm - and cut another's gut open. However, neither of the men were out of commission. In fact ... It seemed they were both recomposing themselves at the same time - standing side by side. Veyugan's eyes widened. They were both going to charge - at the same time. A harsh cough came as Veyugan attempted to ready himself to counter. His eyes narrowed as he shot off for them - blade clutched in his right hand. What would he do? What would they do? Time would only tell.
[OOC: I don't want to carry things too far... So, this will be it for now.]
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Jenna Scorn
Veteran
[M:8749]
The world is a cat toy.[A1i:6]
Posts: 624
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Post by Jenna Scorn on Aug 20, 2007 0:05:18 GMT -8
Everything had suddenly go wrong, her stomach was hurting, and now people were busting in like fucking ninja's. Calamity stood at once, whisking away strands of hair from her eyes.
"Naze desu ka!"
(what??? Why?)
She'd notice a man attacking the red head, it would take her a moment to look around. Blue orbs trying to gather this all in. And well, Calamity wasn't much of a fighter, but you gotta do what you gotta do right?
Her heart was racing, it was thundering against her chest, almost screaming to get out.
Now, back to that read head, it would seem he was choked, ah but not anymore. And as the red head would take a few steps back, trying to regain himself Calmaity would jump upon her seat, and onto another and form there she'd pounce upon the red head's attacker.
"Hayaku!! Hayaku!!"
(Quick! Quick!)
She was screaming to the red head motioning for him to get the man's weapon, her arms wrapped around the enemies neck. Her left hand rising to let those pink nails dig into his flesh, going straight for the eye.
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Post by Travis Delmonte on Aug 20, 2007 12:06:03 GMT -8
When the girl had jumped onto that mans back, he was slightly confused. He didn't know why she was helping him, but right now that didn't matter. It was time to take action. The attacker of his would shake his attention from Travis to the girl that was now on his back. This would give him a chance to grab that weapon, and kick the shit out of him!
Travis would step forward and send those arms out and around as he aimed to grip the black expendable baton. It was then that he would begin to tug and pull. He had underestimated his opponent, that was for sure. He was stronger then Travis thought. And every yank and pull seemed as if he was trying to rip a cement block from the ground, or something like that..
"Mother Fuc- AHHA!"
Idea! He would give the hardest yank, to drag that man forward. At the same time, Travis' right leg would lift, and it would meet with that man's genitalia. He would give a howl, and Travis would remove that rod from his hands as the man released it to rub his naughty bits better.
Now, with this rod in his hands. He would back up once again, setting himself closer to the wall and he would stare toward the man which he had just kicked in his nuggets. Vivid blue orbs eying him, waiting for him to stand up completely and charge.
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Post by valekin on Aug 21, 2007 18:23:35 GMT -8
It was sudden, and for once, you'd think Valekin was surprised. In the back of his mind, he was. Then the psycho in him told him that he really wasn't surprised by that. Sudden death from a land mine, or shell couldn't surprise him anymore. The feet came through glass, shattering it into tiny shards. The feet struck Valekin in the head, and because his body wasn't in combat mode, he went to the ground. However, by the time he reached the ground, he was in combat mode. Ready to tear someone apart.. from the ground.
"Нападение сярприза eh? Смотрит как вы запланировал это наилучшим образом."
The fellow was almost on top of him trying to drive a pipe through Valekin's eye. The monster had the arm pushing down on him by the wrist with the corresponding arm. The other arm pushed on the man's chest, claws putting pressure on the flesh. The fellow shoved his skull into Valekin's face. The monster snarled and shoved a knee where the sun don't shine. They rolled, the fellow a little discontent now, and much angrier. Valekin's back hit the seat, he was now on his left side. This made it all the easier for him to get into a top position, he swung his leg over before the other man could get the position. His foot planted on the floor. The other knee planted itself between the man's legs. Valekin had top position now. His now free hand, which was on the fellow's chest, went behind his back to dra....
"Жизнью будет игра ручек приемистости, сыгранная--"
WHAM!!
A baseball bat slammed into his back, and only sent him right into the fellow trying to stab him with a rather jagged pipe. This new pain and force did not stop him, the slender, clawed fingers wrapped around the hilt, and drew the weapon. Immediately he stabbed it into the man that was under him. Right into the side the arm that drew it was on. The man behind him hit Valekin with the bat again. Right in the shoulder, trying to get him to drop it. The blade came out like butter. A knee came up to hit Valekin in the pelvic region, but not the groin. Valekin managed a cough, then pulled the blade out of the fellow after wriggling it around inside. The gauntlets protected him this time, the bat came to hit him in the wrist, to prevent him from stabbing his friend again. Metal hit metal, and it only drove the blade home, right back through the ribs again.
The bat hit him again and again in the back, but the knife kept coming out, and going back in. Finally, the guy got the idea to hit him in the skull, Valekin bled a little out of the back of his head, before he rolled over and hit the other seat, letting the face of the other foreign fighter get bashed. If that wasn't the final blow. The final insult. Then someone was going to have to do something terrible to that body. It wasn't going to be Valekin, eating someone was out of the question in front of all these people. In fact, there were too many people, it was time to start throwing people off the train.
"Я имею потерянный мой разум, О вас? Вы охотно готовы умереть?"
As he got up off the ground, the man swung at him vertically, the bat came down, and was guided by Valekin's knife hand as he stepped forward, using his hand to move it away. The same knife hand went past the other man's self, and wrapped around the body, Valekin's free hand grasped the knife as well. This formed somewhat of a hug. But in these close quarters, one would hardly notice the leg that Valekin planted his right foot behind his opponent's right foot, leaned forward with his body, and then let go of the hug. With that done, and the man on his way down because of the trip, his right leg arched up and lifted the man's thigh. Valekin's right arm came down, and the blade went for the knee cap. All that positioning for almost nothing.
The fellow's other leg kicked him in the side, and on the way, got cut by the knife, though it threw it's aim off. The man's Achilles tendon was cut, and blood spattered. The kick forced Valekin into coughing more, this time blood came up. Apparently these guys knew how to limit their bodies output, and maximize force. The blade missed, and was brought back up, to make that arm wrap around the leg that kicked him. This was successful.
"Окончательно… драка потехи."
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Aug 24, 2007 12:03:47 GMT -8
An alarm bell went off in Delilah's mind just seconds before the chaos began. She snapped her head towards the window, seeing a fist with a broken pipe heading towards it.
With barely any time to react, Delilah crossed her forearms quickly in a blocking postition, turning and pulling her knees to her chest. The pipe and glass from her window and the one in the seat behind her stuck at her, most bouncing off, some creating gashes, and a few sticking out of her arm. She did not notice the pain however, being too preoccupied with the man pinning her to her seat while two others came in through the open window. She struggled viciously against the man sitting on her abdomen and holding her arms above her head, snarling. "Mother-get the HELL offa me!" It was hard to breathe with this much weight on her.
The man, a blonde she could only scarcely tell, grinned down at her, the pipe piece hovering above her throat. That gleam of lust in his eyes, she knew, was not meant for her, but rather for her blood...to watch it run a spurt from artieries, lifes blood pouring over her clothing, so close and yet so far from what it needed to keep her alive, that frail, singular trio of muscles beating in the center of her chest. The thought tried to force a shiver down her spine, but she managed to suppress it.
When he didn't make any moves to get off her (actually he was preparing to jab the pipe down on her diapraghm) she grimaced. "You asked for it, you ass fuck.." She lifted her legs, gripping his sides with her knees, then throwing them, and him back down on to the seat, and off her.
Unfortunetly, this was not all that well thought out, and Delilah went with him (as he was still holding her wrists), landing in a kneeling position between his open legs. Under any other circumstances, this may have been suggestive. Delilah hated to fight dirty, kicking a man when he's down being just that, but desperate times...
Putting all her weight on her left leg, she lifted her right, slamming the heel of her steel-toed boots into his abdomen. He reeled and she leapt off the seat, only to have her back met by the two others who entered. The one she had bumped into slammed his fist into her spine, causing a breath of pain to escape her lips. The other took hold of her arms, twisting them behind her back, and kneeing her in the small of her back, making her legs buckle.
She whirled her head around, her lips pulled back in a tight grimace, blue eyes seething. A noise brought her attention to the front and noticed the blonde man she had kicked was getting off the seat she had been on only moments before, cracking the knuckles in one hand, rubbing his injury with the other. "Little girls should not play such dangerous games..." he hissed tightly in a heavy british accent, glowering at the young girl. "Let me show you why..." he came closer
"A better idea, me fine young buck~." She replied in a taunting tone, clearly mocking his accent. She regained some of the strength in her legs and was able to stand. "Let me show you..." Her left hand went into the opposite back pocket and jabbed whatever it was up at the man holding her arms.
He would cry out as his forearm snapped, bones clearly jutting out from his skin. Releasing her, she dropped, just as the blonde mans fist went right into the belly of the second man, the one who had punched her spine. She rolled quickly under one of the seats and worked quickly. The wrench she had used to break the mans arm was slightly bloody, and that made work slippery. The men talked feverantly in varying languages, one cradling his arm against his chest. She had managed to unbolt four holds one one side when the blonde man peeked down at her from under the seat, grinning. "Well, hello there..."
She smiled back, knowing now he had to be lying on top of the seat she was working on. "Hey yourself." She kicked out full force at the underside of the seat. The side closest to the window had been uprooted from the floor, but the side in the corridor was not. When she kicked out at the seat, the end that had been detactched flew up and crashed down in the corridor, pinning the blonde man beneath it and scattering debris. Using the momentum from the kick, she went to her feet, back in a fighting stance. |
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Post by Veyugan ~* on Aug 25, 2007 20:18:12 GMT -8
The fingers on Veyugan's left hand curled into a claw - drawing the water of a glass on a tray nearby. A baseball-sized ball of water swirled in his grasp as his legs carried him forward with an excelled pace. The blade was clutched upside down in his right hand, the tip pointing behind him as he advanced on the men in black. A plan of attack had formed within his mind and he wanted to see if it'd work. The initial attack would be upon the man with the lead pipe, intended on taking him out of the game rather quickly. The irony? His own weapon would be his downfall. Veyugan hid his direction by running alongside the right side of the aisle - making it look as if he were going for the man with the kendo stick. However, as he approached, his left hand flew forward and to the left. The ball of water flew diagonally - striking the man with the lead pipe in the face. As this movement was made, Veyugan would leap to his left - directly infront of the man. The lead pipe would be brought up as the man closed his eyes to wipe the water from them. Sometimes ... it's better if you at least try to control your reactions.
That's gunna leave a mark...
Veyugan leaped once more - this time straight up, and forward. His left foot curled around the pipe, bringing it infront of the man's face. As he pushed forward, the pipe slammed against the man's forehead, and he began to fall backwards. The left foot remained pushing the pipe against the man's forehead as he fell. With the force of the push, and the momentum of the fall, the man hit the ground with a great force, squarely on his back. Veyugan's own weight came crashing down on one point of the man's body, with a large metal object being the wrecking ball. Under the pressure, the man's forehead gave way - splitting right up the middle - and pushed into the man's head. Instant kill. Two drops of blood shot upward - coming to rest upon Veyugan's left cheek. The sadistic smile grew wide as Veyugan was caught up in the moment, almost forgetting about the man with the kendo stick.
Key word: Almost.
Veyugan's body moved backward suddenly, slamming his back into the other man's chest just as he began to swing his stick down. Surprise attack! Well, kinda. It seemed the man was quick on his feet. The handle of the sword was driven into Veyugan's ribcage - on the same side of the first hit in that region. The initial reaction was another harsh cough. Saliva shot from his mouth, a little blood-tinged. To be honest, that hurt Veyugan more than he anticipated. Then, the man pushed Veyugan forward, bringing the wooden stick against the top of his head. This caused Veyugan to stumble forward, his vision blurring momentarily as he staggered away in attempt to create distance between the two of them. Well, it seemed it was time for classic sword-fighting duel. However, this was actually the first time Veyugan faced the kendo man alone other than close-quarter combat. Veyugan wondered how the man would feel about getting his shaft chopped in half.
The kendo stick! Get your mind out of the gutter.
The man charged with the stick drawn across his body, tip rapping against the sides of the chairs. A rather quick movement was made - hard to see as if was done so quickly and fluidly. Veyugan must've blinked. The tip of the stick jammed into his sternum, causing his body to cave inward slightly as his body reacted to the blow. His heart skipped a beat as he was forced to take a step backward. Rows of teeth gritted against one another as his right foot planted behind him. It was time for action. No more of this bullshit. The stick was beginning to retreat, however - Veyugan brought the blade up and through the middle of the stick's shaft. The weapon was cut in half, giving Veyugan the advantage now. Their swords were about the same size now. The ball was in Veyugan's court now, and the fact that he knew that showed. The grin returned, more sadistic than ever. White orbs pierced into the man's eyes - a bloodlust stirring within the very bones of Veyugan.
Look who's coughing up blood now.
The wooden shaft flew toward Veyugan's face, but was deflected by his left forearm. A step forward - he was taking the offensive this time - and the blade was flipped in his hand, tip pointing toward the man's stomach. Like a hot knife through butter. Veyugan drove the blade into the man's stomach almost as hard as he could. The curves of the kris causing more pain that was expected. The tip of the blade pierced through the man's back, just alongside the spine. If you can't tell, the man probably wouldn't be feeling so good right now. He lurched forward - blood spilling from the corner of his mouth. Veyugan pulled the hilt of the kris upward, the blade slicing through the skin easily, forcing the gash in the man's stomach to almost double in size. Death was near. Veyugan could smell it. To be honest, in this state of mind, the scent sort of aroused Veyugan, however there were no physical changes. Just a strengthening of the bloodlust. His tongue flicked against the side of the man's neck - tasting his prey as he let the man fall to the ground - watching with great satisfaction as the blood flooded from the man's body and pooled upon the floor.
A little ... break?
Veyugan took a step back, taking in what he had just accomplished. His head cocked backward - taking in the man with the caved in forehead. The grin upon his lips widened. A quick evaluation. Satisfactory. There could have been more he would have liked to do. Further mutilation. However, there were kiddies onboard. He didn't want to stain their minds. Not just yet. As he took the moment he had to rest, he realized that a constant trickle of blood came from his mouth. He could feel the torn muscles in his thigh, and in his left tricep. The arm was almost no use to him, because any use made sent shockwaves of pain radiating up and down his arm. A small, hard lump was invisible under his hair, but was sore regardless. There was a discomfort with every breath, and his chest pounded with pain. Veyugan wasn't feeling so hot. His feet carried him into the closest aisle, allowing him to sit in the seat on the aisle. It was the aisle right behind his. His arm snaked through the seats in front of him - grabbing his bottle of water. Veyugan leaned back in the chair - tray down infront of him. Yeah ... so what? He was taking a small break. Shit, he was tired. A small sip of water was taken as a slight chuckle emitted from his being.
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Post by valekin on Aug 30, 2007 14:55:48 GMT -8
If I remember correctly, Valekin was standing in the aisle with some foreigner's cut leg pinned to his side with his knife hand. This left him with one free hand, his left, and both his legs free. With the fighter's left leg pinned against his right side. Both arms free, and one leg planted on the ground. He had already killed this man's comrade, as far as he was concerned, there was only the one fighter left. When in reality, there were originally ten fighters? Or something like that.
Valekin took the chance to drop to a knee, and launch a well aimed punch to the fighter's testicles. The dropping to the knee was retaliated however, by the fighter assaulting Valekin's head with his fists. Then the punch nailed him in the balls. And he howled. The monster felt a tad woozy from the fresh hits to the skull. But that wasn't of much consequence, he was getting so very pissed off. Pissed enough to kill whoever it was had the bright idea to hijack these trains and mess this whole little vacation up. He was going to kill them without thought as to the consequences. Not like he'd be caught by the authorities anyway.
Not like the authorities could hold him for long.
As the fellow sank from the strike to the testicles, Valekin took the chance. He was being an opportunist, and there were a ton of opportunities now. The first one he took, was to promptly maul the fellow in the face. Yes, cut his face open with those claws and spill his face blood all over the ground. IN THE FACE. That's right, he got clawed in the face. And there wasn't anything he could do about it but cup his balls and hold his face.
He took the opportunity, to unhook the leg, and plunge the blade into the man's chest. But the fighter saw it at the last possible moment, and caught Valekins wrist with the hand that was cupping his balls, then pushed with the hand that was holding his face. The monster didn't like people holding him, it was insulting. He used those claws of the free hand to maul him in the face, again, then strike him in the chest, and the side. To rip open his ribs. Yet he still held the knife a good inch off his chest, despite all the pain and anguish.
The fellow was strong.
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Sept 18, 2007 9:31:43 GMT -8
Delilah danced back on her toes, the seat having been effectively flipped. She smiled at the other intruders, and couldn’t help but tip them a small, taunting wink. “Lets try this again.” The one guy under the seat is unconscious. That seat was wicked heavy. she thought to reassure her mind, slipping into a fighting stance.
The two men in front of her darted forwards, one grasping her arm with amazing speed and bending it away from her, the other trying to make a swing at her stomach.
Delilah’s hand moved out to grab the second man’s fist as she raised her left leg to kick out at the man holding her arm.
The interloper aiming for Delilah’s abdomen promptly moved his fist, and instead, swung her legs out from under her, knocking her off her feet. The man holding her upper arm, twisted her around, dislocating Delilah’s arm as she spun, landing face down on the fine floor of the train car.
She coughed convulsively, the wind knocked from her lungs again, eyes wide and watering with the intense pain in her shoulder. Got too cocky again, did I? She thought in thick tones. She grunted thickly; the one of the men behind her had slammed his knee into her upper back, and pushed his hands into her shoulders, keeping her down, She fought viciously beneath the hands, panic rising. The sound of crackling electricity was growing behind her; it sounded like lightning. Like Rem’s qi…
Rem…his car was most assuredly attacked as well. He wasn’t fully recovered from his injuries. Delilah emitted a phlegmy cough. I hope he’s okay…
The two men were speaking in rapid fire French, a language Delilah could only vaguely understand. She managed to catch the words “tre amusant” (very fun) and some other complex phrase meaning “slow and harsh”.
Delilah knew then what was happening. r\\This man was charging his Qi. She fought more. No! Dammit, NO! Rem’s in trouble…I can’t die here! Not like this! Pinned to the ground like some rabid monster…
Monster…
That brought back the sudden memory of her struggling against the incredibly strong hand of the monster in the school that night…the absolute coldness to which he had dealt with her. She had dealt with worse than these goons…
“Bon oui, mon sherrie.” A voice chuckled from behind, and the man charging his Qi dealt his blow. |
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