The mark of an effective predator is to know when it's not worth continuing the hunt. This is one of those times.
As another volley of yellow-blue buzzy little fuckers comes sailing toward me from W's direction, I draw my energy bubble in toward my body, til it's just barely enough to cover. Then, with an effort, I thrust it out til it pops, exploding outward. Some of the missiles explode as the burst of my energy triggers them; the rest are pushed back one or two more scant meters, and that's enough room to give me an escape route. Cursing the city, the rumors that sent me here, and above all the monumental fuckjob that is Kamen Rider W, I drop my defensive wall, throw all my energy into my legs, and get my ass out of there in a burst of speed that barely registers as sub-sonic.
The missiles, pushing in towards the center of my bubble from all angles, finally regain forward momentum as soon as it is destroyed. I'm out of there fast enough that missiles to either side of me strike through to the middle, colliding with each other instead of my ass.
I'm two kilos away before I drop speed, grinding my teeth so hard they creak. "Fuck you, W, fuck you and your stupid nonpower. Fuck you, Rapparatta, you stupid piece of shit, and fuck--"
BAM. One missile must have been smart enough - or lucky enough - to dodge the self-immolation of the others. This far out from its source, it's not flying hard or fast enough to injure me -- but it's got plenty of force to smack me hard upside the head, making me trip over my own feet and skid to an utterly exasperated halt.
I stand still for a moment, trying to breathe deeply and slowly (old habits die hard) to calm myself down. Being irrational and having a public tantrum will do nothing towards removing W's head from his body. Heads from his bodies. However that works.
I flip open my cell, dialing a very familiar number. He probably won't answer, but if he does, I'm quite curious what his plans are on Saturday. Maiming with a side of witty banter?
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2012-05-18 06:03 pm (UTC)As another volley of yellow-blue buzzy little fuckers comes sailing toward me from W's direction, I draw my energy bubble in toward my body, til it's just barely enough to cover. Then, with an effort, I thrust it out til it pops, exploding outward. Some of the missiles explode as the burst of my energy triggers them; the rest are pushed back one or two more scant meters, and that's enough room to give me an escape route. Cursing the city, the rumors that sent me here, and above all the monumental fuckjob that is Kamen Rider W, I drop my defensive wall, throw all my energy into my legs, and get my ass out of there in a burst of speed that barely registers as sub-sonic.
The missiles, pushing in towards the center of my bubble from all angles, finally regain forward momentum as soon as it is destroyed. I'm out of there fast enough that missiles to either side of me strike through to the middle, colliding with each other instead of my ass.
I'm two kilos away before I drop speed, grinding my teeth so hard they creak. "Fuck you, W, fuck you and your stupid nonpower. Fuck you, Rapparatta, you stupid piece of shit, and fuck--"
BAM. One missile must have been smart enough - or lucky enough - to dodge the self-immolation of the others. This far out from its source, it's not flying hard or fast enough to injure me -- but it's got plenty of force to smack me hard upside the head, making me trip over my own feet and skid to an utterly exasperated halt.
I stand still for a moment, trying to breathe deeply and slowly (old habits die hard) to calm myself down. Being irrational and having a public tantrum will do nothing towards removing W's head from his body. Heads from his bodies. However that works.
I let out a deep breath, growling. Okay. Okay. Fine, fine. I'm cool. I'm fine.
I flip open my cell, dialing a very familiar number. He probably won't answer, but if he does, I'm quite curious what his plans are on Saturday. Maiming with a side of witty banter?