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Post by Serori Yakedo-Satsumaimo on Sept 9, 2013 9:35:08 GMT -5
A slamming door met with the shiff of falling clothes, the click of a light. Footsteps tread lightly across soft carpet, leaving a room, and entering another. The sproing of a bed alerted anyone to hear that a body had been laid across the bed. This body was Serori's.
It had been another night of what Serori had come to call "Successful drinking", although others would call it "a problem." Her eyes were closed, body bare under the yellow light, arms extended, legs bent at the edge of the bed. Her mind and thoughts swirled, as though in a kaleidoscope. She felt happy. She knew it was a feeling, because she was just sober enough to know that she was not actually happy, quite the opposite. Breathing rhythmically, she moved her left arm to her hair, running long, tan fingers through softness.
In the morning, perhaps she'd pay. But as for right now, she felt...ignorant. As if she could forget everything, not know anything but how to breath, swallow, and move. And, as her eyes opened, revealing a faded blue, to see. To feel, taste, the things she only needed to do. Ah, ignorance is indeed bliss.
But Serori knew, she knew that this could not be forever. This feeling, this artificial happiness, warmness in her gut. It was only temporary.
Moving her legs, and using the muscles in her lower back she sat and stood up. Stretching, pushing her arms towards the ceiling, hands clasped. Deep breath in, slow exhale. Serori stepped quietly over to her closet, picking out a simple tan t-shirt, and earth green slacks. She slid these on, tying around her waist a purple sash. The colors clashed horribly, but quite frankly, she didn't care.
It was the purple sash she'd worn when first meeting Touketsuki. Her outfit...it had been one of a few that she'd actually liked, and wore quite frequently. But she had taken good care of it, much more care than other clothing items she'd had. It looked almost used, only slightly worn. The patches, stitches and tears could only be seen with a professional eye. An eye like her Earth mother, the one whom had taught Serori everything she knew about how to repair and create clothing.
Serori bent over, reaching into the bottom of the closet. With a thud of something against the wall, she pulled out a cardboard box. Inside was neatly laid her second most prized possession.
Serori pulled out pieces at a time. First, for her legs, hips, thighs, waist, a bone-white armor, near weightless, but strong, capable of protecting against a high-powered ki blast. Next came each of her arms, a gauntlet covering from the top of her hand where the first knuckles were to below her elbow, a piece leaving the cylindrical form to protect the joint. A hinged breastplate, snapping together in the back, easy to get in, much harder to get out. Two round shoulder pieces. And finally, the prized article.
Everything she had donned was cracked, dusty, and covered in both dirt and blood. This, however, was much different.
A silver cape, shining with such resolution as the moon. Made of the finest silks that could be found, produced by a strange worm that resided in the depths of Kold's seas. These threads were so hard to obtain, it was near a miracle that Serori could have an article so large as this one. The threads were thin, and soft, yet resilient, strong and hard to tear. And yet, they had torn. In the fiercest battle the Saiyaness had ever seen, they had been torn, singed, and ripped. What had once been a magnificent item to fold on her back, follow her form, and blow gently in the breeze now looked like nothing more than a homeless being would wear. Nevertheless, she took the two collar corners, wrapping them around her neck. The clasp was next, the crowning jewel of the ensemble. A Small, purple and white metal lilac, holding the pieces tightly, firmly, but softly, kindly.
Feet shuffled against the carpet, bringing body in front of mirror. Her blue eyes, once such a dark, rich blue, now almost a blue-grey. They were still very blue, but...she was losing the color. Her brown, flowing hair, though, remained the same. Still waving and curling, falling neatly around her breasts. Vividly pink lips pressed against each other until white, cheeks flushed, limbs quivered. Serori's eyes slowly moved up and down, filling with salt water. Not seeing what is now, but what was.
A loud crash, as silver, glass, and just a few crimson droplets fell to the floor. Serori was panting now, mouth open, arm extended, opposite leg back. Her eyes were closed, and she could feel the warm sticky trickling beneath her armor. She squeezed her eyelids, clenching her teeth, baring her canines. Wrenching her hand free from the wooden standing mirror frame, she fled the room. Out into the cold, dead night. Bony pricks in the sky shone down on her, a skull crescent in the sky. Biting wind chewed at her exposed flesh, armor shoes thudding loudly against pavement. The sky was mocking her, the wind laughing. What little inebriation was left fled, sobriety taking its place. Her legs pumped as pistons, hands trying to follow suit, while also wiping away the tears that were flowing freely. The crimson trail she left behind her was scattered, silver cloud billowing behind her, filled with holes.
Her body moved of its own volition, concious too torn to care. A small fracture between two pavement slabs caused the clad foot to catch, sending the entire body tumbling. Serori rolled out of it, still trying to run, but with a slight limp. A tree branch swung out of the darkness, pushed by the spiteful wind, cutting into tannum colored flesh. The Saiyaness continued blinking back tears, her running jostling the welling blood, clumps falling to the ground.
Serori did not stop running until she was out of breath, and could run no more. Immediately she buckled down, curling into fetal position, and sobbing uncontrolably. Her voice made no sound, these were silent wails, the only sound a long exhale, and sharp, sporatic inhales. It was like this she stayed for half an hour, cringing at her own touch, but needing the pressure to keep herself together. She was a wreck, and she knew it. Lying on the cold dirt, curled up like a baby, it was enough to make anyone sick.
And then she heard a sound. A soft, but resonating thud, she felt more than heard. It was enough to pull her out of her trance, sitting up, suddenly alert. Taking in the scene around her, she found herself in the middle of the junk yard by her apartment. She sat, hands on the ground, waiting for another sound in order to locate. When it came again, her head swung around to the left, and she leapt up, sprinting towards the sound. She knew that this was the direction her crashed pod was in.
Swinging around a large pile of rusted metal, sofas, and other miscellaneous items, she saw in front of her four Saiyans, tails swinging lazily behind them. Three of them were standing back, while one held a crowbar, standing next to the pod. The thud that she'd heard could only have been caused by him wrenching the door off. She watched, unseen, as he bent in. With a sharp intake of breath, she hoped beyond hope that he didn't find her single most prized possession. But, such was her luck that when the Saiyan pulled his upper body out from the pod, he had grasped in his hands Serori's new armor. She had not worn it yet...but it had been custom made for her, and contained a most precious item inside. Once again, Serori lost her cool.
With a shout, she sprung from where she was standing, ki wings extending, pushing more ki into her hands. She landed hard in the midst of the Saiyans, one hand open, left palm and knee, and right foot to the ground. She lifted her head, anger in her eyes. Slowly she stood up, careful not to move too quickly. She had startled the Saiyans, and for the moment, had their attention, but not their agression. Soon, though, that would change.
"Drop the armor. Step away from the pod."
The Saiyans looked at her in stunned silence.
"NOW!"
The shout was loud enough to shock them out of their reverie. However, it did not have the effect on them that she had hoped. The one with the crowbar turned towards her, sneering.
"Listen lady, there's four of us, and one of you. This cliche situation seems a little out of your favor, don't you think? So why don't you just run on along, and we will just beat you up, we won't kill you. How's that sound?"
Serori's chin sunk to her chest. Darkness and hair obscured her face, eyes glistening in the light of the crescent moon. With no warning, her hand shot out, fingers closed, nails ripping through the flesh of his neck. Blood spattered out of the wind, and the man gurgled, letting out loud gasping noises as she withdrew her hands. The Saiyan dropped the crowbar, armor clunking to the ground, as his hands lifted to the hole in his neck. Pulling back, he looked down at them, now crimson and sticky, lifting his eyes in a silent plea to his comrades. His deceased corpse fell to the ground. The others looked on. The right most one took a deep breath.
"Fuck."
The other two glanced over at him, the left one running in with him to meet with the one whom had layed waste to their captain. Fists flew at Serori, who seemed to stand still. When the flurry had finished, the onlookers took on the sight of an unscathed woman, before noticing the movement marks beneath her feet. In this brief moment of distraction, Serori grabbed both of their heads, smashing them together in full force. Her hands made a wet clap. All the while, she had not taken her eyes off the third one. He was bigger, buffer, and more than likely the stupid one. He was actually a brute. Much taller than Serori, and about as wide as a car, there was no other way he could be like this than by some sort of drug. He took a step forwards, which shook the ground. He lifted his arm up, thick as a tree, and would probably hit just as hard. It swung down over Serori, who easily maneuvered from beneath it.
"Missed."
The brute's head turned to face Serori, piggy eyes squinting at her. Serori didn't so much as twitch, gaze locked to the dumb one's brown eyes. This time he drew his arm back, ready to come in at a horizontal strike. It practically whistled through the air, under that kind of force. But once again, it came into contact with nothing, instead off-balancing the giant, who had to hop to stay balanced. Serori appeared in front of his face, wings extended once more. A vile grin was scrawled upon her countenance, arms extended, and fingers splayed and dripping. Each was beginning to light up, ki being drawn into them.
"You done goofed."
Simple words, whispered, and ki blasts would be shot through his eyes. Blood spurted from his the back of his skull, mouth and limbs limp. With a slow, almost crawl of time, the body fell to the ground. When it made contact, it bounced only slightly, raising dust, and unsettling several junk piles. Serori's feet lighted against the ground, ki wings folding back, and dissipating. She walked back over to the pod, kicking the deceased off of her prize. Bending down, she lifted it up, placing it back in the box which it belonged.
"You are no longer safe here." She whispered to the items inside.
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