I knowwwww HSHSHSHSHHS
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Ahhhhhhhh noo! I scared, there still so much I gotta write
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You can do it!
I’m going to go take my leave.
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I hope so… I think imma be writing late into the night
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This one goes so many places but I’m pretty pleased with it so stay tuned.
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String-eye V.S. Lillyanna
Response:
A black car with tinted windows pulled up on the side of a road. There was nothing around. Looking up, Lil questioned: “are we there?” to which the driver replied, “I am, you still need to walk.” Realising that was her dismissal, and cue for her to start her first assignment, Lil had one last flick through of the file on her knees. She knew her plan. She knew what she needed to do, and she knew the skills of her prey. Or so she thought. Taking a look once again at the male she was here to incapacitate and capture. Looking into the dull, red eyes, she closed the folder and placed it on the seat beside her. Shuffling out of the car, she inclined her head at the driver before standing up. As she closed the door behind her, she looked around at the forest in front of her, there were a lot of trees, and bushes, she couldn’t see much else. However there was a distinct path through the forest, which is where she was heading. Hearing the car drive away she checked her hidden earpiece was secure to contact them to get her and her target out. Once comforted that everything was as it should be she started along the path. After a while of walking she came across an opening in the trees in which a house was sitting. Staring at the home in front of her, with big glass windows and lots of dark oak she appreciated how pretty it was. However it did seem very unprotected, which caused warning alarms to go through Lil’s mind. “It’s a nice place” she said as she looked around to see if there was anyone or anything to keep String-eye safe… Not seeing any protection she walks slowly forward. Coming to what she thought was the edge of the house, where the steps started, Lil looked around once again, “This seems too easy, where’s the protection?” She mumbled. Taking a breath, she stood upon the step, taking that first step into being a real challenger. Hearing trees rustling, Lil snapped her head to the side. Crouching slightly, she lifted her hand to her hair, readying herself to grab one of her chopstick knives if she needed to. As the rustling continued, only getting more aggressive, Lil debated with herself on what she should do. Calling out slightly, she said; “Come out and fight me you coward.” Suddenly a squirrel leapt from the tree and flew above her head, before landing on a tree on the opposite side. At that moment the rustling stopped. Realising that it must have been the squirrel that caused the rustling, she embarrassingly muttered “Oh” to herself.
Taking a deep breath, Lil calmed herself down before she continued to walk slowly up the steps. Keeping her eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary as she walked forward. Once she was at the top of the stairs she tried to find a way into the house without having to break in, looking around the beautiful mansion she saw a lot of floor-length windows but none that were open, the front door, which was locked, and the balcony which also seemed hard to get to.
Coming to a conclusion, she decided the front door was probably the best way to go. The question is, does she want to let String-eye know she’s there? The first option, which would definitely alert him, is to be polite, and ring the doorbell, however as it’s early morning and he’s probably not expecting anyone that would also probably set him on guard and make him harder to take down quickly. The next idea, which would also alert him to there being someone there, whilst also making him aware that she doesn’t have positive reasons for being there, is to just smash the door in. The final way she can get in is by picking the lock. It may be tiresome but it does seem the best way to get in for her mission. Pulling one of her chopsticks out of her hair, she gets to work.
About 10 minutes later progress had finally been made. Hearing a small click in the door Lil softly whispered “yes!” Before she turned the door handle and slid the chopstick back into her hair beside the other one. Taking a step forward she enters the home of her target. Glancing around she sees a big open plan with plenty of light coming in through the windows. The living room was on the left, with a long, rectangular open fire on the opposite side to Lil, directly in front of the door, and next to the fire was a set of glass stairs. As Lil began to walk towards them, thinking that’s where she needed to go to find String-eye’s bedroom, she felt someone’s eyes on her. Turning to the left, she sees a black kitchen, very neat and organized, with no décor or condiments on the side. Sitting at the dining table however, was the last thing Lil expected to see. Her target.
His haunted, blood red eyes stared at her, as if he was staring into her very soul. His black hair was slightly disheveled, as were the clothes he was wearing. He yawned, confirming her suspicion that he’d just gotten out of bed. “I missed something, didn’t I?” Lil questions, without speaking String-eye answers her via an eye roll and a slight head nod. He then continued to stare straight at Lil, whilst an uncomfortable silence stretched over the two. Lil was lost. She wasn’t expecting a fight, she wasn’t expecting him to be awake, she wasn’t expecting this to actually be a challenge. She was expecting to just walk in, go to his room, put the handcuffs on him and call for the helicopter to come get them both. With a sigh, String-eye stood up from the table and walked over to the sink. Lil’s brows furrowed. Why was he walking away from her? And why was he letting himself be undefended?
Lil braced herself as she saw his hand move towards a cupboard, preparing herself for a fight, she held her breath. String-eye, without looking at Lil, completely relaxed, just brought out a glass. Turning towards the sink, he filled up the glass and then slid it along the kitchen table until it was near to Lil. String-eye raised his eyebrows whilst looking at Lil before glancing at the glass and back up again. Looking down he pulled on the rim of his t-shirt, digging through his pockets to find a cigarette pack and lighter. String-eye wasted no time burning the end of his cig, walking towards the living room area and grabbing a remote. Silently, the man turned the TV on, removing the cigarette from his lips and blowing a trail of smoke into the air. After which, he turned back to face Lil, rolled his eyes again and motioned to the glass of water before raising his eyebrows. When Lil doesn’t move he shakes his head, turns back towards the TV and starts waving the remote in the air whilst he tries to find something on the TV.
Lil takes a small step towards him before saying, “you do know you don’t have to wave the remote around when you press the buttons right? Just point it at the TV and it will work.” String-eye doesn’t respond, just moves his arm around more aggressively. Lil blinked. “What is with this guy?” She whispered to herself.
Glancing around the room again Lil walked towards the sink. Ignoring the glass of water on the table, she poured herself a new glass, can’t be too careful, she thought. And as she hadn’t seen him pour the drink as his back covered it, well, she just thought it was common sense not to take it. Walking around the kitchen taking small sips of the water she slowly went on a tour of
downstairs. “Nice place you have here” she called over her shoulder, “How’d you get it, murdering people? Killing mafia? Selling drugs? Being the Mafia?” She questions. “Not going to grace me with an answer. Hmmm that paints you in a bad light you know.” Walking towards the fireplace she inquired about the fact it was electric. “Trying to save the planet or something?” But was not given a response, again.
As she was talking (Read; trying to get String-eye to say something) she was trying to make a new plan in her mind on how to complete her mission with the new dilemma of him being awake. So far the best idea she had was to wait until he was asleep again, but given his hyper-awareness and diligence with his powers she didn’t think that would be an option. Turning around slowly, Lil stared at the older male. His dark black hair was still an untamed mess, the complete opposite to what it looked like in the picture she was given. However his crimson eyes were more vibrant in colour than what the picture showed. They were more haunting. More dangerous. More… more… more… terrifying.
Lil knew they were at a showdown. Neither wanted to attack first, as it wasn’t in either of their nature’s. But one of them would have too. It was just a waiting game to see who would attack first. Realising she’s gotta take initiative and start this fight before either her target leaves or the empire gets annoyed at her for not doing anything. She starts preparing to attack.
Grounding herself, Lil calls for Ty. Picturing the sword she would like in her mind, she hopes he is in a helpful mood. He’s not. Ty does provide her with a weapon, however, rather than the sword she asked for, a wooden bat appears in her hand. Closing her eyes in annoyance, Lil communicates to Ty, saying ‘really Ty, why can you not just be helpful for once’.
Taking a step forwards, Lil brings the bat above her head, and starts swinging it down towards String-eye’s head where he’s sat facing the TV. He slid to the side slightly, dodging her downwards swing before he turns to face Lil. “Right, 360 vision” she thinks. Shaking his head at the younger girl he stood up, in the same moment a string started shooting from his wrist, only noticeable by the fact Lil had read about it in the file, and the slight whirring sound. Whipping it slightly when it was about a metre long, it cut straight through the cushion on the sofa he was just sitting on. Gulping Lil slowly walks towards him, going the long way around the sofa, however she never breaks eye contact, and neither does he. About 4 steps away from her target, she stops. “We can do this the easy way, the enjoyable way or the hard way. Your choice on whether you want to meet Rosabella, Lillyanna, or Killer Queen.”
Locking eyes, String-eye raises one eyebrow at the exact moment Lil raises both of hers. Smirking, they pause. A beat passed. And then the fight was on.
Lil went to attack String-eye with the bat, just as he swung his wire. His weapon made contact with the bat and there was the sound of wood splintering. Looking towards the bat slightly, as she didn’t realise what had happened until the sound, Lil paused as the top half of the bat wobbled and fell straight to the ground. Bang! It clattered against the floor. Turning from the half of the bat in her hand to the wire that she was assuming was being retracted back to String-eye, her eyes widened. Before, with a scream, she through the remainder of the bat at his head, turned around, and ran to hide behind one of the dining room chairs, so the wire wouldn’t cut her in half. Using the chair and table as a shield she pulled one of her knives from her hair so she wasn’t completely unprotected. Whilst this was happening, String-eye slid his hand under his settee. Wrapping his hand around one of the knives he keeps hidden around the place, he stood up to his tall, imposing height.
Taking a step towards Lil, he attacks. For a few seconds it was a rally of attacking and defending before String-eye manages to get to upper hand. He caught Lil’s fingers, forcing her to drop her knife before he wacks her in the head. Lil stumbled backwards.
Deciding she will need help, Lil grabbed a chair, and used it to block String-eye’s sword. Her left eye glows blue as she makes a connection to Jally. In doing so she asks: “can you allow me to have extra speed so I can try and outrun his wire during an attack?” Feeling Jally come forward, to see what’s happening, she hopes that he will grant her request. Jally, deciding not to be helpful, says: “no, it won’t be useful for you at this moment” and goes silent.
“Stupid Sudek” Lil mumbles before trying again with a different member. “Hey Ty, could really use a weapon right now”, she thinks as one of the chair legs gets sliced clean off when she moves it to protect her arm. Eye glowing again, Ty provides her with a xiphos on the dining room table. Shrugging Lil goes forward to attack again, knowing that her temporary shield won’t hold out for much longer, knowing that she needed to grab the weapon as quickly as she could, and knowing that she can’t hide from String-eye.
So, throwing the remaining chair piece at her mission, she charges forward in the same breath, grabbing the Xiphos and spinning around. She tries stabbing with the xiphos, hoping it would make contact with the older male. He dodges. Doing a 180, she swung the sharp metal around again, blocking his own knife. The two swords made an x and the two humans made eye contact, “you have some skill, I will admit that” Lil says before using her weight to push against the x.
Whilst the two were fighting, Ty materialises on the worktop. Deciding to be annoying, he starts providing a running commentary on what was happening; “Strings sword is blocked by Rosa as he goes for her head again, oh wait Rosa nearly managed to make contact then but instead Strings wire cut her cheek, causing her to lose concentration. They move towards the living area again, back and forth with attacks and defen- woah! Rosabella just spun low and kicked Strings feet out, leaning over him she held her xiphos against his neck however he just bats it away, getting a slight cut but then kicks up off the ground…” and so on. Quickly however, he is shut up when Lil is given a cut the length of her arm. Luckily the necklace given to her by the council glows white lightly, and slowly begins to heal her cuts.
Realising what was happening, String-eye started forcing attacks much quicker. Deciding she needed some help to try and win this fight and complete her fight she tried calling on Honeycomb, the blinding spirit, for some help. Honeycomb, realising that if she granted Lil the gift to blind String-eye for 3 seconds would still struggle to overpower him because of his sight, decided to plant the mist in the centre of downstairs. However for this to happen Ty had to disappear again. Not wanting to, he walked towards Lil, clinging to consciousness. Dropping to his knees beside the two fighting, he looked up towards Lil, and begged.
Ignoring Ty, Lil told Honeycomb to help however she can. The Sudek pulled Ty in and Honeycomb used her powers to get lil to form a grey glass ball, which she then dropped in the middle of the floor causing it to smash and a mist to start curling out.
Steadily the mist spread to cover downstairs. Unable to see anything, the two had to pause their battle. The grey mist was a good distraction, however the downside was that it stopped anyone from seeing anything for 15 or so seconds. Luckily for Lil however, because of her connection to the Sudek, she could still see her hands when in front of her (with help from the glowing eye). String-eye however… well… “Usisudenge! (you are an idiot! [Xhosa])” he cried whilst he swung madly.
As Lil slowly shuffled forward, hoping to accidentally come into contact with String-eye, she pulled out the set of handcuffs she was meant to use to prevent him from escaping. However, String-eye had something up his sleeve. Realising that he had gotten nowhere in the last few seconds by swinging his arms around widely, he closed his eyes. Taking a deep breath he used his skill of Drauger to project a copy of himself into the kitchen. As 10 seconds past, a new form of String-eye was created while the ‘real’ one was in a slight comatose state. However this Drauger could see because he was formed after the mist arrived. This was an unknown problem for Lil, obviously. Walking towards the younger girl, Sting-eye grabs another of his daggers from out of a compartment in the worktop. Creeping forward, he grabs Lil in a headlock with the dagger against her throat.
“Well this certainly was not what I expected with this blindness. Though I won’t complain. How do you want me?” she questioned.looking over her shoulder she doesn’t see String-eye responding. “Dammit will nothing break you?”
Deciding to go for the easy way she stomped on his heel before headbutting his nose, when his arms loosened slightly from the pain she punched the Drauger in the Netherlands before wacking him over the head when he let go and cried out in pain. “Coc oen (the lamb’s willy/you f***er [Welsh])”
Slowly the mist started to disappear, showing Lil how the String-eye she was fighting was slightly different from how he was before. Seeing another String-eye just standing in the middle of the living room with his eyes wide open, Lil decides to go towards him. Jumping over the settee she grabs him just as he came back into consciousness and the Drauger dissolved.
A hand to hand battle started for a few moments. Both fighting to try and detain the other but not being able to grab any weapons where they were/whilst they were trying to get the upper hand. Nonetheless, the two knew this could go on and on and on if someone didn’t end this somehow. Noticing how the sun had risen a lot more than earlier, String-eye knew he needed to stop this, just like Lil did. Though they both knew the other wouldn’t back down.
Body slamming Lil to the ground, String-eye let out some of his string to tie her up. Lil didn’t go down without a fight though. Using his strength against him, she wrapped her legs around his neck and swung around until she was holding him down. With his strength, String-eye pushed himself up from the ground, throwing Lil off his back. Skidding across the floor, lil came to a stop by the smashed glass.
From the ground String-eye slowly turned around. Lil stood up. Looking down at String-eye they made eye contact. Smiling at each other, they paused. Took a deep breath. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. Pulling her knives out of her hair, Lil smirked. Grabbing a knife from under a loose floorboard, String-eye smirked. Standing up, they both stood in fighting stances. In. Out. In. Out. Twitching slightly, they both waited to see who would make the next move. In. Out. In. And charge.
11 Likes
I love this line, it’s just so sassy haha
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Nice! thanks for the response! 
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GOTTA GO FAST GOTTA GO—
Alright Tomo you know what time it is? Yes it’s assassination time get yer bum up lass—
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IS THAT A JOJO REFERENCE I-
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Unfortunately not but I wish I would have thought of that…
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HSHSHSHSH
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Ohhhhh boy, have I done it now. Just short of 6K.
An account of the encounter between String-Eye and Sebastian Lorens, AKA BORRASCA
0300
Sebastian stood amid a dense forest. The wind rushing gently through the trees held the unmistakable chill of oncoming winter. The moon was high above, glaring down through the canopy of leaves with an unapproving light. Even the moon isn’t happy about this… Sebastian thought to himself. Sebastian tugged at the fly-strap on his custom P90, hoisting the large weapon over his head. He set the stock down into the dirt and leaned it against his leg. Next, Sebastian tugged his shirt off. He stood still for a moment, basking in the moonlight as it illuminated the vulgar and intricately designed tattoos covering his torso, chest, and neck. Sebastian dropped to a knee and unclipped the top of his small pack resting at his feet. He pulled from the bag a glass beaker bound in shock-absorbent plastic and a large nail. Using the sharp tip of the nail, Sebastian smashed a small hole in the top of the beaker before putting it down next to the gun. With his free hand, he traced a finger along his mid-section, feeling for the correct spot. Sebastian found it quickly and brought the tip of the nail to where his finger indicated. If I end up doing this for nothing, I’m going to be fucking pissed. Sebastian inhaled sharply before driving the thick cylinder into his flesh until the flattened head of the nail was flush with his skin. His expression only flickered, but his breathing had sped up slightly.
Already, Sebastian could feel his flesh cling to it, his guts wrapping around it as they tried to heal. He could feel the flipping of his stomach as it writhed around the foreign object. Sebastian ignored this and crouched down to retrieve the beaker. He gave the moon a defiant look before tilting the liquid into his mouth. Sebastian chugged vigorously, and before long, the cup was empty. It tasted like ash. Even at such a ridiculous degree of dilution, the taste of The Holy Sacrament pervaded. Sebastian supposed such was the nature of the thing. It thirsts for consciousness the same way a drowning man desires air. Sebastian had no exact idea how it might affect his target, but he had a general idea of what to expect. He was more concerned with being able to effectively administer it. Utilizing such an abstract chemical was a perilous balancing act between avoiding inflicting an overdose and administering a sufficient one. Luckily, Sebastian had plans to spare.
He packed the empty glass back into the pack and extracted an odd-looking boxcutter, which he tucked into his waistband. Sebastian took out a pair of thick black latex gloves and pulled them on before closing the pack and clipping it shut. He yanked his shirt back on and checked that the SigSauer P226 MK5 was correctly in its holster on his pant leg. Sebastian had never directly engaged his target, but his experience with Gwen—and the new information in the dossier he had been provided—painted a picture of a satisfying conflict. Sebastian’s sidearm was secure, and he stood up, grabbing the oversized P90, and secured the fly-strap, so the gun was tight against his chest. He brought his pack back over his head and onto his back. The liquid in his stomach had begun to heat up. It was slight, but it would no doubt continue to increase. Sebastian told his body to relax and set off into the forest.
0415
Sebastian was standing on the edge of a small clearing. In the clearing center was a house; its modernistic architecture belied the minimalist impression it gave. It had a sleek design, and the moonlight glanced off the faces of solar panels on the roof. Sebastian had no intention of entering quite yet, given the large glass panels that looked out into the forest. Sebastian kept to the edge of the deciduous darkness, and with a low profile, he slunk about. If Sebastian was to find what he was looking for, he would have to do it before entry. Sebastian hadn’t seen anything to indicate any access to water-related systems on the roof, meaning the pumps were likely buried in the ground. Buried far too deep for him to do anything about. However, there would need to be a maintenance port to allow access for inspections. He noiselessly stalked through the grass, looking for what he hoped was there. Sebastian found what he was looking for after a while spent silently shuffling through the grass and fallen leaves. Kicking away a layer of dirt revealed the metal cap that was embedded in the ground. The letters engraved into the metal were different than what Sebastian was used to, but the symbol, though not the exact same, was universally deducible.
By now, the sloshing of liquid in Sebastian’s stomach burned hot, and his finger tapped on the head of the nail buried in his stomach. He was looking at a maintenance port, and there was no slot for a turn-key or any way to manually trigger the system. Sebastian would have to activate the sprinkler system once he got inside. Taking a knee, Sebastian positioned himself next to the port and lifted his shirt. His fingertips dug at the head of the nail, finding purchase to wrench it free. The metal spike slid from his torso with a squelch, and Sebastian used it to puncture the seal around the metal cap in the ground. He used it as a lever and pried the lid free, exposing the water stored in the subterranean pipe. It was clean, a good sign; this was the water flowing in, not the water coming out. Sebastian positioned his face over the hole and began to wretch. He regurgitated into the water. His vomit was clear and resembled the liquid before ingestion; the nail in his guts had prevented any digestion from taking place. He heaved a few more times before coming up empty. Sebastian wiped his mouth and spat into the grass before placing the cap back over the port. Great… Sebastian thought to himself, putting the nail in his pocket, It worked, but now I’m gonna be fucking starving this whole time. He put his shirt back down and stood, kicking dirt back over the metal plate.
Sebastian turned to the house in the clearing and began to make his way towards it. The sounds that came from the forest were the ones announcing the onset of a new day. Birds were waking, and it wouldn’t be long before the sky began to brighten with the first rays of sunshine.
0530
Sebastian was correct about the modern interior, but he hadn’t been right about the size and the layout. It seemed much more prominent on the inside than its exterior had suggested. Sebastian took his time, however, wandering aimlessly from room to room. The interior was a well-designed blend of open and closed concepts. All the rooms flowed into each other, and Sebastian couldn’t help but notice how the walls seemed to be placed. It was like they had been erected to direct movement to one area or another. Sebastian admired the design. Soon, he found himself entering the kitchen. The kitchen was L-shaped, with the stove and preparation area on one side and a sink and large countertop on the other. Sebastian poked around nosily; after all, the kitchen was his favorite room in any house. He found a box of matches in one of the cabinets and was about to light a candle resting on the kitchen island. Instead, Sebastian noticed the modern hotplate-style stove String-Eye owned. He plucked the candle from its stand and placed it silently on the smallest of the stove’s heat pads before setting it to medium-high heat.
Across from the kitchen, through a threshold, Sebastian could see a living room. As he made his way to snoop around there, he froze. Sighing, Sebastian straightened out and turned to where a pair of red eyes study him from the shadows. Sebastian turned to face String-Eye and gave him a coy smile.
“You know,” Sebastian said, “I was beginning to think you may not have been home. Could you imagine my disappointment?” String-Eye did not respond to this; instead, he grabbed a glass from the sink and filled it using the tap. String-Eye set in on the counter and slid it towards Sebastian, who scooped it up and drank it without hesitation. As Sebastian drank, String-Eye tugged a cigarette from his pack from his shirt pocket and lit up.
“Ahh,” Sebastian exhaled, finished, “That’s much better. I think water tastes better when it comes from the ground. Thanks.” Sebastian nodded at String-Eye and placed the glass back down on the counter. String-Eye said nothing; instead, he walked into the living room, and Sebastian followed. Behind them, the candle on the stove was quickly beginning to melt. Sebastian was glad that String-Eye left the kitchen before the wax started to scorch.
String-Eye grabbed a remote from the glass coffee table in the center of the room and pressed a button. The impressive TV that was anchored to the wall flickered on. The volume was down low to where Sebastian couldn’t make it out, though, by the looks of it, it could have been the news. String-Eye waved the hand holding the remote, gesturing half to the kitchen and half to Sebastian. What the fuck is that supposed to mean… Sebastian kept his thoughts to himself. Instead of answering immediately, he quickly acknowledged the layout of the room.
The coffee table was in front of the TV, with a couch on the other side facing the screen. The sofa was surrounded by a few comfortable-looking armchairs. Sebastian was also pleasantly surprised to discover that this room was about half the size of what he had expected. Which, He supposed, Makes sense. I can’t imagine that String-Eye spends any more time here than he needs to. In addition to the relatively small size of the room, the kitchen was not across a hall but instead separated only by a doorway with a tall, intricate threshold that was no doubt designed for lighting and flow. Against the same wall were two leatherbound lounge chairs, each with a small glass reading desk tucked in beside them. Perfect.
Sebastian motioned to the chairs, sitting across from each other at a slight angle. String-Eye gave him a suspicious look. Sebastian was already settling into one of the chairs; he took off his pack and leaned it against the side. String-Eye followed him, his expression cold. He gave nothing away, and it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. As String-Eye sat in the other chair, he observed Sebastian. Sebastian noticed this, and he gave String-Eye a smile full of razor-sharp teeth.
“I know what you’re thinking. It must seem pretty obvious, huh?” Sebastian began jovially. “After all, I’ve got this massive thing strapped to my chest and these gloves on.” Sebastian tapped the P90. The chrome black surface reflected no light. A small design wrapped the weapon: what appeared to be a girl, drawn in a seinen-anime fashion. She was clutching her eyes; her mouth hung agape in a horrified scream. The design was all-white, but what resembled blood seeped out from behind her hands. Sebastian traced the design with his gloved finger. “This is one of my favorites…” Sebastian clicked his tongue and began to dig through his pack, extracting a folder and placing it on the glass table next to him. In the room next to them, the wax had overheated and was beginning to burn and smolder.
“So,” Sebastian said, “We meet again, String-Eye. Do you know why I’m here?” String-Eye did not respond, only challenged Sebastian with his eyes. “I figured as much…” Sebastian replied, “You barely uttered a word when that whole unfortunate mess with Gwendolyn transpired. I can’t imagine that my presence here this morning would inspire any verbal communication on your part. So, if that’s the case, I’ll do the talking for now.” Sebastian looked to String-Eye for a nonverbal. String-Eye squinted, and Sebastian nodded, continuing. String-Eye was intrigued, though he’d never offer that information. He hadn’t seen much of Sebastian, let alone heard the man’s strange accent, and as the one-sided conversation progressed, String-Eye found that Sebastian could elocute his thoughts with alarming clarity.
“My, my…” Sebastian said, flipping through the dossier that bore the emblem of the Empire. “You are quite a dangerous man, it seems. Wanted for all matters of treachery and grotesquerie. Conspiracy to commit capital offenses, accessory to kidnapping, and human and drug trafficking. Your time with Thoris, in particular with Ms. Thorisdottir, has harvested much-unwanted attention.” Sebastian trailed off, flipping the dossier closed with a bored gesture. Sebastian looked at String-Eye.
“I have to say I’m not very impressed. I mean, what is your goal? What are you really trying to achieve? I think most people would say that it’s money, which I doubt. Others suggest that your actions are a clamoring grab for power, making slightly more sense than the former. However…” Sebastian paused to think, “It’s lackluster at best. Though I’ve been told repeatedly to the point of stupidity that this organization you work with is truly a menace, I fail to see the grandiosity of your malice. The works of your organization… It all falls flat. It’s too… Uninteresting.” String-Eye said nothing in turn, but his expression had darkened. Meanwhile, the candle on the stove was smoking in the kitchen, whisps reaching up to curl around the ceiling.
“Thoris is certainly threatening,” Sebastian continued, “And you are indeed a dangerous cog in a formidable machine, but a cog is still just that.” Sebastian leaned forward slightly, “Oh String-Eye, what a horrible man you are, huh? Kidnapping and trafficking, distributing drugs, and undoubtedly murder. Please,” Sebastian spat that last word as he sat back, “I’ve seen more murder and committed more atrocities than I can count; you cannot possibly tell me that your actions are genuinely indicative of something special. That there is anything novel or unique to your operation.”
0615
As Sebastian said this, there was a sudden hissing noise. A piercing alarm sounded, and as String-Eye tensed in his seat, cones of mist begin to shower down from tiny spouts hidden in the recessed lighting. Sebastian’s skin tingled, and the hairs on his body where they mist fell tingled. His blood was reacting to the presence of the contaminated water as it sifted down from above. If String-Eye noticed anything, it was eclipsed by annoyance as the mist doused him, extinguishing his cigarette. The two of them sat there for a while under the heavy mist until the alarm went quiet. The overhead water spouts slowed to a meager drip. String-Eye gave Sebastian a look that said, ‘I think it’s time for you to leave.’ Sebastian didn’t say anything; instead, he calmly and quickly flipped his P90 upright from his chest and pulled the trigger.
The P90 let out a rapid series of short pops. The lounge chair String-Eye had been sitting in was torn to shreds. It was also empty. String-Eye had moved so fast that Sebastian hadn’t seen it. Sebastian sighed and pulled himself up from his seat. “Huh,” he mumbled, “Damn strings…” He stepped back from the doorway and brought the gun into his shoulder. Sebastian fired a steady stream of shots at waist-level along the wall. The large-caliber rounds tore through the house like the walls were paper. Sebastian didn’t expect to hit anything. However, he wasn’t too keen on letting String-Eye get any closer than desired. Sebastian’s gun clicked in his hands.
As Sebastian was sliding a fresh clip into its slot, there was a stinging sensation that encircled his right wrist. Sebastian turned to see String-Eye standing a few meters to his side, his hands outstretched and his fingers paused in a familiar gesture. Sebastian was equal parts confused and concerned. He couldn’t gather how String-Eye was suddenly back in the room with him, but he could tell by the way his hands were positioned that it should be the lesser of his worries. String-Eye flexed his arm inwards, and Sebastian felt a transference of weight as his right hand was sliced clean off. Blood shot across the side of the P90 as Sebastian tried to shift the gun into his left hand. It wasn’t working, and the gun dropped, the barrel slamming into the floor.
Sebastian turned to face String-Eye, but he was gone. Frustrated, Sebastian healed himself much too fast, and his replacement hand suffered a nasty case of polydactyly. It was functional, though, and that’s what mattered. He slammed the clip into place and picked his weapon up. Sebastian had wanted to keep his gloves on, but with one gloved hand already discarded, it was pointless now. Sebastian stormed angrily into the next room, what appeared to be a study. Sebastian fired more rounds into the walls as he moved to the next room. As he passed by the bookshelves, there was a glimmer of something that caught his eye, literally. The blade embedded itself into Sebastian’s skull, and Sebastian shouted in surprise. String-Eye was putting his full force behind it as he drove the serrated edge deeper into Sebastian’s head. Sebastian slammed the barrel of the gun into String-Eye’s stomach and yanked on the trigger. String-Eye vanished again.
As Sebastian yanked the knife from his eye, he swore loudly and dropped the P90 to the floor. Blood trickled down his hands, and there was a thundering pain that bounced around his cranium. His eye was already healing, that much he could do quickly and without error, but the surrounding area would have to be left to bleed if he wanted to heal properly. He swept the gun up and swerved around the corner, firing a blind volley of shots down the hallway. There was no sign of String-Eye, and the water droplets on the floor weren’t helping either. The vibrations from the gunfire had caused them to coalesce and run together like tiny streams. Sebastian abandoned the pretense of caution and stalked down the hallway into the dark. Despite the crushing pain in his head and the faint dripping of water, things had gone too quiet. That was until the gentle whirring cut through the silence.
Sebastian spun around and attempted to raise the gun, but he was already tangled up in a spidery web of strings. He couldn’t move, and as he struggled against them, he could feel the lacerations forming on his skin. String-Eye stepped out from a room off to the side. Sebastian had almost reached it. String-Eye had set a trap, it seemed.
“You know,” Sebastian spat, “The instructions told me to incapacitate you and capture you, but you know what? I think I’m gonna fucking kill you instead—” Sebastian choked on those last words. String raised his open hand and clenched it into a fist.
0615
String-Eye was sitting in the lounge chair, facing Sebastian, who wore an evil smile. Sebastian’s shark teeth gleamed at him. String-Eye suppressed the feelings of confusion. That’s not right… This isn’t right… I just… This man just died…
“Are you alright?” Sebastian chimed. “You look a little pale.” String-Eye didn’t answer this, but his expression was wary. “Here,” Sebastian said, “Maybe this will help.” He flipped the P90 from his chest and aimed it at String-Eye. Sebastian had no intention of pulling the trigger, but String-Eye reacted much too quickly to inform him of that. String-Eye had already deployed his strings, wrapping them around the firearm. The gun came to pieces, and in reaction, Sebastian lunged out of the chair.
It was stupid to do, as String-Eye brought the free-floating strings together in circles around his body. String-Eye jumped out of his seat, moving each of his fingers in and out in rhythm. His lines deployed rapidly and began to entrap Sebastian. Sebastian’s left arm was first, followed by his right leg. As the limbs fell from his torso, blood splattered around the room. It mingled with the water and turned bright red. Sebastian toppled over and began to laugh.
“That’s it! That’s what I’m fucking talking about!” He yelled as the strings began to slice through his other limbs. It didn’t appear to matter much to Sebastian, though, as he crawled best he could toward String-Eye. “Come one! Don’t be shy! Really cut into me! Pull me apart! You’re a dangerous man, right? Show me what that fucking means!”
String-Eye was having a hard time keeping his demeanor. When he had met Sebastian prior, he didn’t seem as crazy as this. Sure he fired blindly into Gwen’s villa, but this was another level. And before… What was that all about? He can remember it happening, but it mustn’t have…
String-Eye yanked his hands up and severed Sebastian’s remaining limbs. Except, when the strings cut through, something happened. There was a stutter, but it wasn’t him, nor was it Sebastian. It was like the space around them jittered the way an old-fashioned film reel might jump and flutter in place. Sebastian was saying something, but it didn’t make sense.
1530
The sunshine washed over a field of wheat. In a heavenly warm glow, the golden tendrils swayed back and forth like the waves of an ocean. The only sound was the sweet susurrus of wind as it whispered across the infinite plains. Amid the elysian fields stood a white adobe house. Inside, under the shade of the straw roof, a woman stood. In her hands, she was delicately working the soil inside a small flowerpot. She gingerly placed a seed into the dirt and was careful in covering it up. She clutched it to her chest and had nothing left to do but hope. She turned and looked out of the doorway, across the timeless fields of wheat.
“It’s you.”
0615
String-Eye clutched his head in his hands to conceal his panic. His heart was pounding harder than it had in a while, perhaps in forever. He looked up to say something to Sebastian, but the opposing lounge chair was empty. What the fuck is going on? He eased his hands down and suddenly realized they weren’t empty after all. There was a pistol in his hands, and even though String-Eyewas confident he had only now just lowered his hands, the end of the gun was shoved down Sebastian’s throat. Sebastian locked eyes with him, blushing; his drooling tongue traced the barrel of the firearm suggestively. His lips and teeth tugged at it with lecherous vulgarity.
“Ngh!” Sebastian choked around the gun in his mouth, “I’m gonna—”
String-Eye jumped, and the gun went off. Saliva and blood splashed back onto his hands as brains and viscera exploded outwards from Sebastian’s skull. Sebastian was pushed back by the force of the blast and writhed on the floor. His words were unintelligible, but they had the unmistakable tone of lasciviousness. String-Eye felt sick.
7777
String-Eye was in the passenger seat of a Ferarri Roma as it soundlessly glided through the rain-soaked streets of a dilapidated cityscape. Sebastian was in the driver’s seat, his gloved hands lazily gripping the steering wheel as he drove. String-Eye must have spaced out; Sebastian was in the middle of a sentence when String-Eye realized he was speaking.
“…why you’re here.” Sebastian glanced at String-Eye, who was watching the beams of the headlight slice through the veil of rain as it poured down. “Anyways,” Sebastian said, “Let me tell you a story while we have the time.”
String-Eye nodded and kept his gaze fixed ahead.
“My father,” Sebastian spoke and fished a joint from the center console, “Mind you, not my biological father, though I suppose by now he might as well be. He was an interesting man for more reasons than we have time to get into. Would you light me?” Sebastian turned to String-Eye, who held up the lighter in his hands, sparking the joint. What? Had I always had that in my hand? Or… I guess… String-Eye’s thoughts trailed off; Sebastian had continued talking, smoke dancing from his lips.
“It’s hard to talk about him without migrating into a discussion about the manipulation of temporal and spatial qualities, but I’ll do my best. Many decades ago, my father was what some people called a tyrant. A warmonger, even. Sure, it was not an entirely undeserved title. Still, when he reached out to one of America’s three-letter agencies, they revered him and his idealogy with a new title: Social Architect. Whereas social engineering utilizes centralized planning to create a desired social change and maintain any future behaviors or developments of a given society, social architecture is vastly different. The engineering aspect takes place inside a preexisting social climate; architecture pertains to the careful construction of such a specific climate. Therefore, to witness a purely unobstructed feat of social engineering while maintaining objectivity, it was imperative to manufacture an isolated system where absolute control could be executed to observe how the dynamics of change influenced and of the given sub-systems. Do you follow?”
String-Eye only nodded. Sebastian waved at the smoke that hung in the air.
“Anyways, that’s what he did. And he was paid enormous sums of money for it.” Sebastian’s accent was thicker than usual but still unplaceable. “He worked alongside the Americans for something like forty years—Oh, that’s our turn.” Sebastian yanked the wheel hard to starboard, and the car drifted on the wet roads before correcting at the last second and revving down the turn. “Forty years, can you believe that? I suspect it could have lasted as long as the Americans thought they were in control. However, it all came falling down, quite literally, actually. That was when the unfortunate Mr. Frank Olsen was, uh… Well, he had an accident, yea, that’s it, and plummeted thirteen stories from his cozy little suite in the Statler. Afterward, the American government was forced to find a way to rationalize officially sanctioning such nefarious activities. This was when… Fuck, what was his name?” Sebastian paused in thought; something came into view of the headlights, and Sebastian swerved around it without batting an eye. “Sydney! Or, at least that sounds right. Regardless, my father wasn’t too fond of having to abide by anything so frivolous as laws and refused to participate any further, at least not in the same capacity.
“My father met another man, a Dr. Vitsin Blysk, around the same time. They began to work on their own project that, unlike the American’s project, which died in the mid-seventies, is still around today. My father taught me everything he knew about mind-altering chemicals and unknown, unimaginable substances that could beget incomprehensible changes to a person. Which, now that I think about it, I’m surprised you haven’t figured out.”
That caught String-Eye’s attention. He turned to Sebastian and said, “Hvað meinar þú með því?” String-Eye was suddenly assailed by a strange sensation. It felt like his chest and neck were being groped by invisible hands, unseeable fingers tracing the musculature of his back.
“You’ll see what I mean,” Sebastian replied, “Open the glovebox.”
“…Af hverju?” String-Eye couldn’t explain it, and he wasn’t sure why, but he was suddenly repulsed by the idea of opening the glovebox.
“It’s the only thing left to do,” Sebastian said flatly, “You have to take responsibility.”
“Til hvers?” Sebastian swallowed a lump that had materialized in his throat.
Sebastian said nothing for what seemed like an eternity; he only gazed out at the road as it raced past beneath them. Finally, he answered: “For all the world’s suffering.”
String-Eye reached out a hand toward the glovebox, pausing it in mid-air. Wait… He was so confused, beyond conflicted, Didn’t… I don’t have anything on my wrist… Where’s my— His thought was cut short. His fingers had reached the handle as though of their own volition; his heart sank into his stomach. String-Eye ground his teeth and yanked on the handle.
String-Eye was confused at first. The red eyes… The long dark hair… the familiar features. It was at that moment when his confusion was obfuscated by mind-numbing horror. The head of his grandmother stared back at him from inside the glovebox. Her mouth hung agape, exposing her gums. They had been mashed into red pulp, and her teeth had all been cut from their sockets. Her tongue was missing. On her forehead, words were carved deeply enough that the grimy surface of bone peeked from the lacerations. String-Eye couldn’t move. The sensations that affronted his skin had only amplified, and now it was reaching a fever pitch. String-Eye tried to breathe, but he was afraid of what might slip from his lips if he did so. String-Eye turned to Sebastian in the driver’s seat, but he wasn’t there anymore. In his place was the slowly decaying headless corpse of a woman. It was disgustingly familiar. Her skin sagged and slipped unnaturally over her rotting bones; maggots crawled beneath the leathery surface. She took one hand off the steering wheel and reached out to String-Eye, who pushed himself as far away as he could get.
The car jumped ferociously as it sped faster and faster. String-Eye felt the bile bubbling in the base of his throat. There was a cough somewhere from down at his side. His head snapped to where the sound was coming from. The disembodied head was slowly beginning to wriggle its lips. Pained words choked themselves from his grandmother’s mouth, but it was not her voice. It was Gwendolyn’s.
“You…” It muttered, “you did this to me… You are the only one to blame.” You…” The voice trailed off as black sludge began to pour from the gawking mouth of his grandmother’s head. Midnight ooze that sloshed across the seat and String-Eye’s lap thicker than oil. It reeked of putrescence. The fetid air strangled the air out of the car and invaded String-Eye’s nostrils like worms and leeches. The car’s frame had begun to shudder like a slum’s rooftop in the rain. String-Eye’s head was spinning, and the sensations plaguing his body threatened to overtake him. Suddenly a hand was on his shoulder. String-Eye jumped and whipped his head around.
Sebastian sat in the back seat, a joint smoldered between his lips. He wasn’t looking at String-Eye. Instead, he was looking straight ahead, a worried expression on his face.
“That doesn’t look too good, does it?” Sebastian said; his voice was calm, cheerful even. String-Eye pried his eyes away from the chaos surrounding him and followed Sebastian’s gaze beyond the headlights. Illuminated by the LEDs was their ostensible destination. A towering wall of flesh and blood that quivered and twitched in revolting ways. Shards of bone and jagged rows of teeth protruded from the surface like a macabre and primitive defense. Eyes that grew misshaped and jaundiced flittered and blinked at them from the fleshy texture.
“Brjálæði…” String-Eye’s lips moved on their own as horror overtook him. The car was thrumming as it teetered over the edge of its top speed. The insane structure was approaching them at a frightening pace.
“Yes,” String-Eye heard Sebastian hiss excitedly. “A wall of death. A tower to reach the heavens and raze the cities of angels!” String-Eye was trying to speak when he noticed that Sebastian’s cheeks had begun to split at the corners of his mouth. The flesh peeled back, revealing his razor-sharp teeth. String-Eye could see even the muscles behind the skin tearing and breaking until the gory fissures nearly reached his ears.
“Faster!” Sebastian shouted, and blood sprayed the front seats and windshield. “Faster, you rotten bitch! FASTER! You smelly old cu—” There was a thud and a deafening screech as one of the tires wrenched itself from the front axel. The front left corner of the car began to grind on the pavement, but before it had a chance to flip, they were at the wall.
“Haha, nice.” Sebastian said.
The car hit the wall and exploded in a tremendous fireball. The force of the blast propelled the two of them into a dark and vast expanse from which no light had ever returned. And then…
0620
String-Eye felt the ground rise up under him, and he slammed into it with such a tremendous force that white stars popped into his vision. That’s when he felt the pain. Sebastian was on top of him, pinning him down on his stomach while his teeth dug into this back. Sebastian’s cheeks were torn wide open, and his mouth resembled a snake as he sank his shark teeth into String-Eye’s back. String-Eye tried to move, but his mind was reeling. The car crash… Am I… What the fuck…? Sebastian’s teeth made contact with String-Eye’s spine, and as String-Eye realized what was happening clearly enough to begin to react, it was already too late. Sebastian’s teeth cracked through String-Eye’s spine, shattering the T12 and L1 vertebrae. String-Eye felt all the sensation leave his lower body. In a panic, he deployed his strings, but there was nothing more to the action than a desperate grasping. Sebastion, his teeth still lodged in String-Eye’s back, swiveled around and knelt on String-Eye’s neck. He grabbed String-Eye’s index and middle in one hand and his ring and pinky finger in the other. Grunting, Sebastian ripped String-Eye’s hand apart down to the wrist. The sound that tore its way from String-Eye’s lungs was guttural and animalistic.
Sebastian freed his jaws from String-Eye’s back only to bit down again, this time further up. As String-Eye flailed with his last functioning limb, even that was taken from his. Sebastian bit through the C7 and T1 vertebrae with an ugly crunch, and suddenly, String-Eye could only move his head and neck. Sebastian relinquished his grip on String-Eye and gazed down at his handiwork. String-Eye was groaning in pain, and he could tell by his expression that String-Eye was desperately trying to move his limbs just a fraction. Sebastian brought his face back down to String-Eye’s back, and with his tongue, teased at the bite marks he had left. He gave String-Eye’s back one long, languorous lick before sitting back on the floor. Sebastian had to catch his breath.
After a while, Sebastian had healed his face, and he noticed that String-Eye had gone pretty quiet. He wasn’t dead, though, String-Eye’s face would twitch occasionally, and he was still breathing heavily. Sebastian stood up and gazed around the room. The walls and furnishings had been destroyed in equal measure. No matter, though, at least Sebastian accomplished what he had come here for. He slung the P90, not empty, back onto his chest and strapped his pack to his back. He wasn’t a fan of having to fireman’s-carry String-Eye all the way to the drop point, but so be it. Sebastian threw String-Eye’s limp arms and legs over himself and hauled him up.
Sebastian had one last look around before leaving the house in bloody disarray.
“Home again, home again,” Sebastian muttered, “Jiggity-jig.”
A/N: I know the pace of the writing changes, but it was about 2K longer than it was here, so I blame the things which were removed for brevity. I hope you enjoyed it.
9 Likes
It comes back in 3 seconds.
It regenerates one arrow in thirty seconds. The freezing lasts for 5 seconds.
The ice does not melt.
6 Likes
Walker's response
Walker revealed himself behind a pillar, both hands in his pockets. His hood was pulled down, and the AV-8 drone was nowhere to be seen.
As he walked soundlessly down the stone steps, Jun turned around and began to stroll at a slow, leisurely pace along the pool, his back openly faced towards Walker. Whether as a sign of confidence in his abilities or trust in his opponent, Walker didn’t know.
A swift breeze passed by the two as Jun lifted his face upwards, gazing in the distance almost dreamily.
“The weather sure is beautiful, no? Clear, comfortable, and not a cloud in the sky.”
Next to him, Walker stared down at the pavement a few feet in front, for lack of interest in whatever he said. He wasn’t even paying attention, to begin with - except for the fact that there’s a fairly good amount of wind.
“Why side with the Empire?”
“I’m sorry?” Jun cast a side glance at the kid next to him. Walker’s gaze remained firmly planted to the ground.
“Why would you turn to them after having worked with the rebellion for so long? Were you always a spy, or are you just throwing away a perfectly good alliance just like that?”
“I have my reasons.” His nonchalant tone was barely lighter than the atmosphere around them.
“You were close enough to our leader. If your intention was that obvious, Apollo would’ve known.”
“I’m sure he will. Your question?”
Walker stopped in his tracks. “Something doesn’t add up. If you were that good at hiding things, you wouldn’t be so bold as to leak information to the Empire. You wouldn’t risk it.”
The prince, on the other hand, kept on walking as if nothing happened. There was silence before his next response.
“And if I am?”
“…You would betray the rebellion in no time after you joined, possibly causing collateral damage while you’re at it.” Walker guessed.
“Interesting.” The prince gave a polite smile, then turned his gaze again to the sky, this time deep in thought.
A series of mechanical clicks and whirrs sounded from afar, accompanied by the occasional noise of wings flapping as two strikingly different figures drew near from above. The AV-8 and white phoenix flew to their respective owners, then one perched on Jun’s shoulder as another hovered and flashed reports in front of Walker.
Walker’s heart sank. He was hoping the drone would find the documents by scanning the whole mansion - the closest discovery it had to offer instead was a few scattered papers lying at the bottom of a hastily opened briefcase.
Whoever took the documents, if they left these papers behind there’s no point for Walker to scavenge what’s left. He wondered if Viv would find an extremely detailed 3D holographic map of the mansion useful.
Probably not.
“Unfortunately, I can’t give you the answer you want.” Jun finally spoke. Walker turned his attention away from the drone. The prince continued.
“I’ll tell you this - I’m a leader of my nation. I never think or operate as one person as you would. Whatever I choose, it’s for the people of my land, and them only.”
He turned around. “The rebellion offered freedom. I wanted peace. I assume the next step would be to capture me and bring me in for questioning?”
“Yep.”
Jun’s eyes flickered between the tip of Walker’s hood and the ground before him, sizing him up before the fight.
“You can try…”
Right on cue, a gust of wind swept past the two of them, lifting Walker’s hood just enough to reveal a sharp glare; cautious, calculating, almost cold. Currents of air swirled around the prince, levitating him a few feet in the air as Walker’s sword and armor glowed bright cyan with energy.
Arms spread at waist level, Jun tensed his palms, as if about to perform a karate chop. Walker tightened his grip around the handle of a half-transformed katana, then, without warning, sprinted towards his target at full speed, leaping up at the last second with the blade high above his head.
Jun, on the other hand, was completely taken aback by the sheer inhuman speed and agility of his opponent; no guard, soldier, or elite force he had ever met can dash or even jump in what looked like a full set of armor - which is also the reason why he found his wind blades slicing through nothing the next moment after he aimed for Walker.
He looked up at his opponent high in the air, and for the first time in years, a fleeting trace of alarm struck through him. He had completely underestimated the kid, and a small part of him feared that he’s going to pay for that.
Walker saw Jun’s hands fly up by instinct, then willed the katana to grow heavier as he swung it violently clockwise instead of slicing straight down, using the momentum to spin in midair before landing. He darted to his opponent’s side, where Jun left an entire area exposed - and attacked.
Jun had barely spun around before the blade sliced up at his chest. It was only a couple inches away from his clothing when something pushed the weapon backward forcefully.
It wasn’t like hacking into a shield at all. The contact felt barely solid, which Walker guessed what only might be extremely dense air.
The momentum carried on, even intensified, as if the weapon was thrusting itself backward. Walker almost lost his grip then immediately tried to pull his weapon back, but no sooner than the thought registered had a blow swept him clean off his feet and sent him flying.
For half a second, everything became a blur as the ground hurtled towards him at the speed of a train.
He thought of tucking into a roll, but since the wind blade didn’t manage to cut through the armor, it launched him almost horizontally at high speed instead, there’s just not enough height - instinct urged him to stick an arm out in order to break the fall, in which Walker mentally yelled back that both hands are occupied with holding a weapon, and he would very likely stab himself if he tried.
It was quick thinking that saved Walker - the blade disappeared from the katana, leaving only a handle as a riot shield assembled itself just before the collision. Sure enough, the pavement came crashing with enough force to dislocate his shoulder, and the shield protected him from most of it.
Through the loud rumbling and scraping of metal against stone, Walker gripped the handle tightly as he half-slid the shield on the ground like a snowboard. He tumbled over, raising the shield up as another barrage of wind blades came flying at him.
A few dull and heavy clunks sounded as the wind blades brutally clashed against the shield, one after another. Walker’s arm immediately became numb from the impact. Still floating in midair, the prince advanced, which was another mistake.
Before Jun got the chance to speak, the faint cyan glow behind the shield suddenly erupted into a bloodred hue, then to his surprise, Walker threw the shield aside, his left hand holding a loaded Micro UZI aimed right at Jun’s face.
A glint of bright orange, a flash of blood, a jolt of panic, and a deafening three-second cacophony of gunfire sent a clear message to the crown prince: his life is at stake. The teenager standing before him was one to be feared by, and with good reason.
Blossoms of dark scarlet dotted the fabric somewhere at his midriff and began to grow. Somehow the pain didn’t even register, as though his whole body was delayed and numb to the attack.
From Walker’s point of view, the shield broke right after two bullets hit. As blood spattered on the grass under his opponent, Jun stumbled back and took flight in a short burst of wind as Walker continued to rain down the contents of an entire magazine at him. Then he summoned his drone, reloaded the gun, and immediately gave chase.
Both of them engaged in a dogfight of sharp turns and dives in the air, swerving and racing around the garden like fighter jets. Gunshots, clashes of metal, and more noises of pure destruction caused by stray blades and bullets broke out now and then throughout the chase.
Despite having to dodge a flurry of wind blades flying back at him, Walker’s experience at drone racing helped, and he proved unrelenting and almost impossible to shake off. The two continued until the prince had no choice but to disappear in a cloud of mist.
After turning back to normal, Jun glanced behind him while still flying at full speed - relief washed over him as Walker was finally nowhere to be seen. The feeling was short-lived, however, when he was ambushed from above right after he landed his first step on the grass. Tumbling on the ground, Jun tried to stab, punch and kick out of his way, but to no avail.
AV-8 deactivated Walker’s invisibility after he pinned down Jun in no time, revealing a dagger pointed at his neck.
“Just a heads-up, if you do escape there’s an army after you, and I’ll personally hunt you down without a mission if I have to. I say give up.”
Jun smiled bitterly, the corner of his mouth stained with blood.
“Well, that would be my choice to make, wouldn’t it?”
And then Walker collapsed rather awkwardly on the grass as Jun transformed into thin air for the second time.
After a few seconds, Walker spotted a white figure reappear on the other side of the garden, flying towards the roof of his mansion. Sitting on the grass, he realized it would be impossible to catch up on short notice - The drone will never be able to reach his target before he escapes, and even if he could teleport, Walker can’t run on air.
He thought of just sending AV-8 to track him before something flashed past his mind.
It’s an idea, sure, but it would be insane was the summary of it.
Without even thinking if he should, Walker already started setting up a sniper rifle on the spot - the one with the most firepower in his inventory. After aiming the rifle at the rooftop, he pulled the teleportation gadget loose from his wrist and held it in his left hand like a bomb detonator, then willed his digital sword to transform into an extremely long and thin chainwhip with a bullet attached to the end.
Walker took the bullet apart from the weapon, loaded it into the sniper rifle, and put the chains inside to fuse with the bullet. He took a deep breath - then pulled the trigger and activated teleportation at the same time.
Time slowed down drastically as the bullet shot out of the barrel in slow motion. Walker took a running start, then grasped the handle as it shot upwards along with the bullet, pulling Walker along.
Out of anything that Walker had done before, this had to be high up on the list of worst plans that worked impossibly well: Literally launching himself in the air using a bullet.
And right as Jun reached the rooftops, obliviously thinking he was safe again, Walker crashed into him and pinned him down on the spot.
“No.”
10 Likes
I don’t know whether to read that in a heavy Scottish accent or Jacksepticeye voice
ouch.
Either that’s unintentional, or the swan doesn’t like him.
Also the last part of my response was my brain going completely off the rails at 4:50 am, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not-
6 Likes
Yeah I’m not participating this round sorry 
8 Likes
AHHHHH I FALL ASLEEEEEEP
Okay my response is halfway done soooo gonna finish it soon
8 Likes
Yeah I figured, don’t worry about it!
7 Likes