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Anger, Violence, and All That Nasty Stuff
Topic Started: Aug 23 2017, 03:32 AM (547 Views)
The Homeless Bearde
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"Two plus two is four, minus one is three quick maths"
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Movement, sound, a spat out word of dialogue, and Kasumi sucked in a breath as a gunshot echoed across the tar pits, thought back to the total mess she'd made of her first moments on the island.

She thought for a moment what KK would see, wondered what human beings looked like at the barrel end. She'd wondered it idly before - Lance and her at target practice, a stray thought that had crept in now and again to her consciousness. She'd never imagined that she'd be here, now, the cardboard cutout in someone else's gallery.

The soil exploded near her head, and she flinched as if shot, her ribcage still, face to the dirt. Soil coated her neck and face, her shoulder.

Don't move, she thought, don't move.
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The Fool
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
She... she fucking shot her.

Adonis didn't really think that Kasumi was going to get shot. He thought that Gun Girl would be too flustered to actually pull the trigger. Hell, she sat through all his stalling, so he thought that she was as shit-scared as he was and just trying to act tough so she wouldn't get into trouble with anyone.

Yeah... he was wrong. He was super wrong.

Any vague sense of safety he had felt before? Completely out the window now. He needed to get the fuck out of there before Gun Girl remembered that she could shoot him too. That was easier said than done, unfortunately. His feet felt like bricks, and his knees felt like jelly. She hadn't turned back to him yet, so he still had time to get the hell out of dodge. He just needed to move! Move, stupid feet, move!

He took his first few uneasy steps all too quickly, his legs feeling as floppy and unstable as the bag dangling from his hand. His stride started to normalize as he brought his bag in, holding it to his chest with both hands as he darted away. He fled without looking back, disappearing behind a group of bushes that thankfully weren't hiding a tar pool. Forget everything else, he just wanted to get away from this psycho chick as soon as possible.

((Adonis Alba continued elsewhere...))

SP1: Lukas Graves- Forming a team in United
VW2: Angie Hart- Having a bad time of it in Balls Deep

Past Minis
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Kween in Yella
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Ratchet Consort of Hastur, they/them pronouns pls!
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Adonis was gone. Kasumi was too. Just in very different ways. Her pulse was pounding in her skull and even as Adonis fled she didn't move from her frozen sightline above the dead girl's body.
Do I have to look at her?
Dead. She was dead. She hadn't moved since the shot. Katarina had actually done it. She'd killed someone. There was some expectation that something was going to change in her after first kill. Her mind would sharpen and her emotions would dull and her instincts would flare up and she'd become the sort of person who could survive this. Because of course she was going to survive this. The quietly terrifying thing, though, was that nothing changed at all. She didn't feel any different between the moment before she pulled the trigger, the moment the bullet hit, and the moment she realized she'd killed someone. There were only two ways to interpret that.
I don't need to check.
Either nothing had changed and she still wasn't the sort of person who could survive this, or she had always been the sort of person who could do this and there was nothing new for her to absorb in Kasumi's death.
The answer is so obvious.
KK didn't have to think too long about which one it was. Every person she'd come in contact with already knew. That's why they were terrified of her. Their actions told the same story again and again whether they were aware of it or not. Only Irene had held any ignorant hope that Katarina wasn't the last person she was going to see, and she'd quickly disabused her of that notion.
So goes the chain of ascension.
Yes. There. Not on them.
Despite the fact that she'd been looking at Kasumi the whole time, she never really looked her over. And as she turned to collect her bag and leave, that callous part of her chimed in to explain that she-it-wasn't worth the effort. It was just a thing that had died, like a deer on the side of the road, and there was no need for her to waste the energy to prod and dwell when there was so much more to be done. It was a good enough excuse. It sounded like something the sort of person who survived this should think.
I can't be wrong.
KK shouldered her bag and held her gun tight as she walked away, trying to pretend she had no interest in the body behind her and that she really had already forgotten her-, no, its- name.
Don't let them in.
((Katarina Konipaski's next target sighted.))
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The Homeless Bearde
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"Two plus two is four, minus one is three quick maths"
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
She exhaled slowly, barely enough to disturb the dirt at her nose, letting her lungs empty out and hold there as she stared into nothing. She lay there until her only company was aching lungs, grittiness in the lines of her neck, a ringing that persisted far after KK and Adonis had vacated.

Gravity claimed her as she started to rise, aided by an ally in the stabbing pain emanating from her left knee that caused her to let out a strangled gasp. She hit dirt, rolled on her side, a moan rattling around her throat before floating into open air. Gingerly, she reached down, touched her kneecap.

Her hand came up red.

Kasumi laid there, curled on her side, her breaths ragged and chopped.


The bat made a decent crutch - enough so that she could maneuver into a seated position, her back to a nearby rock that could’ve acted as cover had Kasumi made a proper assessment of the situation. Instead, she’d seen a situation that sent words like guns, threats, danger, and had reacted. She’d believed, running with her signatures scrawled and carved into wood, that the words would protect her. More importantly, she hadn’t truly believed where she was, how she’d gotten here, why.

Now, the truth, the concrete evidence, was a red stained white cloth wrapped tightly around her knee and thigh.

Kasumi wasn’t sure if the bandage job was even good, but she was aware that she needed to dress the wounds. The leg wasn’t bending anyway, so it was wrapped good and tight with the gauze and the blunted scissors she’d used to scratch her signature into her crutch. The bat itself was long and weighty, and she was thankful for her height - it would be the only thing that could help her move.

She watched the sky for a time.


I am a beast of the hoof, Henry had once said, if something happened to my feet, you may as well shoot me.

Intended as foreshadowing in The Time Traveler’s Wife. Henry had lost a foot, and Henry had died.

Kasumi wasn’t comfortable with that thought, but it came unbidden, loud and echoing in a head too sparse, too starved for company. The words got louder as liquid splashed against her fresh carvings, dripping down her cheeks, salting the corners of her mouth.

The sky held no interest to her anymore. The sun slid lower.

Kasumi remained in the same position.

((Kasumi White, continued elsewhere))
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