|
|
Post by Bastille Amtrum on Dec 9, 2009 23:31:02 GMT -8
The breeze was quite today. Winter briskly set in and she was reminded of a certain someone. Mathew, that bastard was making a lot of shock appearances lately, all of which driving the poor girl mad. David was also away doing something and she was in serious need of someone to pester. Serious…need. Her eyes searched hopelessly again looking for Gabriel to happen by. If he did she would have been in heaven! Frenchies where perfect to pester on cold wintery days. But alas, no luck. She sighed and stood up, maybe there was some other French boy she could pester to no end? Nope. Bastille felt like waving her current spit of patriotism for her country in the air and go through with her plan to replace all the American flags on campus with British ones. She wondered how….it was a beckoning to all races, of course…it was like ten seconds later when she realized how morally odd it was.
“Topsy Tervy, alls in a bunch…god ISNT THERE SOMETHING TO DO AROUND HERE, IM BLOODY BORED!!!” She hissed in her heavily thick British accent and kicked the flag pole so hard it dented.
Go to class? Now that was an option…but no, alas…no that would just make her pathetic. Soon entertainment arrived.
“Oh lookie here…” A young man said. Oh yes, lookie here indeed. Bastilles lips rounded into a smirk. She wondered if she let them go far enough would David pop in for the rescue? Haha fat chance, and that just made her seem damselfish....nope time to kick ass and hard.
“Why don’t you come with us Princess…we would like to so our appreciation.” He smirked. “for beating us up the other day…”
“alright boys, but lets me fair shall we…I am only one me…and my breasts are rather delicate today, monthly cycle you know..” she teased, and followed them, much to their amazement behind the building. One guy grabbed her from behind and Bastille raised a brow. Oh yay, rape time. He sloppily let his hand grope for her chest and Bastille rolled her eyes as the other guy so nicely went to lift up her leg. Moving rather quickly where they.
“you might not want to do that” She teased the men giving her a grumpy look.
“Oh but I think I do…” He said and with a grin went to touch her pants zipper. Without any delay Bastille used the guy behind her as leverage, slamming him into the wall behind both of them while using the force to kick up her second leg and slam the other guys chin up. The other two men lunged for her but she whipped out her kendo blade and was able to slice so quickly that both fell just at the force of the blunt item. Bastille then smirked pushing down her sunglasses on her face and looking at the boys below her groaning.
“Americans are so disgusting, but be happy…today you are this ‘Princesses’ amusement”
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Dec 9, 2009 23:39:39 GMT -8
RAWR
Jaus wasn't on the scene at the current time, rather he was about. Americans hadn't struck him lightly always those odd glares in his direction for some random reason. He was German by birth, luckily enough, and the pride from that flowed in more ways than one however it was this pride that in later years turn into his own paranoid delusions of grandeur. Of course it only took being smacked through a wall and being toyed with to bring that delusion crumpling down.
Till the day he became better he trained. And trained without haste, it was his sole purpose to become stronger and not be pushed around like a weakling any longer. He'd suffered that blow in Alaska, and now here there would be an end to this soon enough he promised.
Though the sudden sounds outside his gym ushered his attention his training didn't break till a certain point. Rushing out in defense of the young lady he found himself being mostly unneeded. Calm blue eyes watched in attentiveness focused on how she'd done it. Speed? A commodity he was lax in.
"Seems my presence was unnecessary."
|
|
|
|
Post by Bastille Amtrum on Dec 9, 2009 23:51:58 GMT -8
Bastille had just been about to slam the hilt of her sword up one of the guys asses while using her heel to slowly crunch another guys package, but her malicious thoughts where interrupted by the sound of a man. She stood up straight and turned around to look at him her crimson eyes staring deeply into his blue ones. Ah, a newbie…this would be interesting indeed.
“Seems you haven’t been here long…” She commented aloud.
“lets get out of here” one guy behind her whimpered. Bastille didn’t even turn, just slammed her heel down where it would hurt most, he wouldn’t be able to have sex for a year…possibly life.
“PIPE DOWN YOU FOOLS AND STAY THERE AND GROVEL!” she demanded. Oh yes boredom really did eat away at peoples honorable natures, but today ‘the witch’ was out to play. Normal Bastille was locked somewhere else. God she wished Gabriel had seen that, maybe he might get a hint what was in store for him in a decade…only a hint, what she had planned for him was beyond painful, it was downright hellish. This thought only brought a smirk to her face. She was glad David hadn’t been around, he would have stolen her fun by beating up the punks for even laying a hand on her, much less molesting her. Mathew…he wouldn’t have even let them get that far….sigh. Glad indeed no one respected the power of women at this school…no one.
“now where were we?”
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Dec 10, 2009 0:01:05 GMT -8
Jaus stared back without batting an eye. A woman picking up on a man? What was this ridiculous notion she brought about, Jaus was no prostitute to be levied with and nor was he some rapscallion on the side of the street looking for some good time with a strange woman. So lest she interpret his actions and provide a good enough reason he'd not budge.
"You've mistaken me with someone..." He'd say briefly not acknowledging her remarks.
Icy eyes watched with skepticism. His entire body suggested escape though his persistently stubborn mind told him to remain planted and face the potential threat. He'd seen enough to realize she was fast, far beyond his abilities but it was heart that counted.
|
|
|
|
Post by Bastille Amtrum on Dec 10, 2009 0:14:11 GMT -8
“I mistake you for no one…perhaps it is you who sees me wrongly.”
She appeared behind him her speed for once faster then viewing and with ease draped her arms over his shoulders and with one hand turned his chin to peer over his own shoulder at her. She was leaning on her tip toes to beat the height half hanging on him.
“And who are you German?....yes who exactly are you?” She smirked devishly. She liked this kid, the fire in his eyes…it would be useful. And she knew exactly how it must look from his view, she had been there before. But, what was the hard in playing the witch for now? Besides…she could use a manservant to follow her around. She would need someone to teach anyway, it sounded like a plan.
She smirked wickedly at him.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Dec 10, 2009 0:21:56 GMT -8
"Jaus.." He'd say simply without any lingering thoughts.
The only thing vexing him now was how people here were so much stronger than him, so much faster, so much more devious. He was envious of that power and found himself becoming corrupted by the insationable need to destroy everything that swathed his path.
(ooc: sorry shortness)
|
|
|
|
Post by Bastille Amtrum on Dec 10, 2009 0:28:38 GMT -8
Bastille noticed it. This boy wanted power, well what honest person didn’t? Bastille let him go and then drew out her rapier on him. The cold purple blade glints, the wider then a normal foil blade it was the size of a sabers blade….so it was hard to miss how this could easily still harm a person.
“Shall we play a game?” She asked. Oh this would be indeed fun. She wondered if people got in trouble for picking on the weak, but something finally connected her to Amtrum. She knew exactly how good it felt to be in complete and utter control over the situation. Yes, complete and utter control. With ease she popped up the collar on her bomber jacket and took out a cigarette…this would be fun indeed.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Dec 10, 2009 0:40:06 GMT -8
Jaus wouldn't flinch, not an inch. He could read this woman fairly well, the luxurious high estate type it'd seem. One of those primely trained woman who lived off of those serving them and submitting to their every word, everything was like a game to them. Jaus wouldn't become some play thing.
"Sorry I don't play nice." Jaus said.
The instant he did his head would jerk back ramming into her face if of course she was still behind him in that same position.
(ooc:
Strength: 12
Dexterity: 9
Constitution: 30
Intelligence: 40
Wisdom: 25
Charisma: 20
|
|
|
|
Post by Bastille Amtrum on Dec 10, 2009 0:46:29 GMT -8
She wasn’t, she had stepped back from him after all. She would however dodge and her eyes would narrow. Now stepped out the knight, quiet and unyielding…she took a stance and her face became serious. She didn’t know this guy but he might be strong…it was good to wait and see. Her sword glinted in the sun and her lips remained in a frown. To many, she was bipolar as well as stuck with multipersonality syndrome. In reality Bastille just has extremely different ways of expressing mood. Her entire body changed with it, no longer accenting her woman flaunts but rather taking the stance of a fighter. Play time had only just begun.
She would lunge at him her sword pointed, testing the waters…she went slowly, something anyone could follow.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Dec 10, 2009 0:58:03 GMT -8
A short live smile on his face livid with her tense reaction, she was certainly into this fight from step one and Jaus could read her magnificently like a book. However it was his body that couldn't keep up feeling the strong lash of the blade hit his torso knocking him back to the ground.
"ahh.."
His meager words not enough to comprehend the pain entirely as he managed to stand once more. He wouldn't be let down yet moving on the offensive with a quick strike, the first aimed for her gut triggered from the left fist as his right would grasp at her head driving it into his kneecap.
|
|
|
|
Post by Bastille Amtrum on Dec 10, 2009 1:15:15 GMT -8
Bastille allowed him to grab her, what better way to test strength? She felt a tiny trail of blood come from the scratch on her forehead but over all…it was nothing. This guy was taking to much damage for it to really be faked. Bastille whipped around and in a half pirouette stumbled back, turned and went to slam her blade into his side using full speed. No use keep this up just to torture him, it was after all unhonorable to pick on the weak. She would then turn back around the other direction skidding forwards and going to slam her sword into his left shoulder, trying to give him a dead arm.
(-1 dex?)
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Dec 10, 2009 1:20:19 GMT -8
Jaus took the hits, gasping for air hesitantly as he jostled back and forth until she'd knocked his arm back roughly now he was dragging about. Weakness, it was unacceptable he wouldn't stand for this not ever.
Stripping of the weighted jacket, causing ruptures in the ground as it fell he grinned cunningly feeling himself overall improved. He would not be holding back now. Jaus ran forward firing two kicks to her lower torso hoping to shatter her ribs.
(ooc:
Strength: 38
Dexterity: 30
Constitution: 33
Intelligence: 40
Wisdom: 25
Charisma: 20
|
|
|
|
Post by Bastille Amtrum on Dec 10, 2009 1:24:40 GMT -8
Bastille watched him with cold eyes, not really caring what he did. With quick movement he charged at her and then with little to not time in between kicked.
*SLAM
Bastille simply put up her hand and grabbed his oncoming leg. With what seemed like ease she lifted him higher into the air and went to throw him. Her crimson eyes just watching the battle … his kicks had left a twinge in her wrist, it felt like her bones had been smashed together, but nothing to badly hurt. With stood straight up taking a position and waiting for him to come again.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Dec 10, 2009 11:30:06 GMT -8
It was strange in his mind how a woman could lift him up by the leg, quite honestly infuriating his sense of pride. He'd take this into consideration and rather than being thrown would roll off his ankle and kick her in the face with his other free leg. If she was toying with him its best she stopped here. Any sense of pity on his account would eventually lead to her defeat and quite honestly she was causing oh so little damage to his person that given a short time frame he'd have already beaten her back only suffering the defeat of his own pride.
|
|
|
|
Post by Bastille Amtrum on Dec 10, 2009 16:56:54 GMT -8
Bastille however had been done ‘playing’ a while ago. She was fighting for real, knowing his strength, and his speed she dodged his oncoming leg with ease and then letting go of the other she would actually duck down far to the ground in a cat like crouch. With one swift movement, as he began to go to the ground again, she would swing her sword up above him and then down in a straight line going to slam him back first into the ground using all of her strength. This was intended to inflict mass amounts of damage and with little to no time in between she went for his shoulder next ramming her elbow into it her face smacking his. Should all of that connect or not she flipped up in the air and backwards, standing up straight and flicking her sword again this time watching him. Silent and unmoving…she used her eyes to read his muscle movements. ‘The lions eyes’, they had been given to her by her father, and now where enhanced by a tiny pair of orange contacts making her eyes literally look like fire sometimes.
|
|
