Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20190809183250/@comment-5543592-20190830193253

Evening turned tonight and night to midnight. Rain pitter-pattering on the rooftop. Tanner awoke once, swinging his legs out of bed. He wasn't sure what it was that woke him.

"Jesus, I need to get on tranquilizers or something." He muttered, laying back down, and drifted of into sleep again. His dreams were good.

Kayleigh held Tanner down as she kissed him, not that he had any inclination to struggle, or was in any position to.

Someone was pulling his hands behind, placing them somewhere they definitely did not mind being placed. A third person grabbed him by the leg roughly, tugged his torso around to free his waist.

He grunted, half-falling off the bed, and tried to pull away from Kayleigh to look at who was pulling at him, but she laid a hand on his face before he could see. Her calluses were smooth. Worn. Tanner didn’t think he could be with a woman who didn’t have worker’s hands. Soft people didn’t suit him that way.

“What’re you looking at?” She asked him, drawing his attention in. “I’m right here.”

He grinned up at her, freeing one of his arms to pull her chin down to him, but he was abruptly jerked upwards, out of Kayleigh’s grip.

Pan’s bright, red hair dropped over his face, and hard, sharp nails were dragged down his back. He gasped at the series of bracing feelings, but willingly submitted. It was a different kind of attraction than what he felt for Kayleigh. Less in terms of kinship, more in terms of need. Pan had needed Tanner. She needed him now. It felt good to have that kind of power over someone. Intoxicating.

She pressed into him, palming the muscles of his chest, grabbed his jaw roughly, pulled him to her. When they kissed she smiled against his lips, and Tanner wrapped her lean frame up in his arms.

The tugging on his leg grew fierce and he was pulled away for a final time. He hit the ground hard, separated jarringly from Pan, wincing as he whacked his head on the ground in the fall.

“Enough of that, Tanner.” Eva said, standing over him, offering a hand. He tried to take it and stand up, but instead she caught his hand and pushed him down, then swung a leg over, straddling his chest. Tanner had never realized until this moment the intense, dark beauty in her features. All points and fine lines. “Time for you to wake up.”

Tanner blinked. “What?”

“She’s coming to kill you.” Eva told him. “You need to wake up.”

''Open your fucking eyes, boy! A real man don’t lay down on the job!''

Tanner jolted awake in his bed, slamming up against the bedpost. The covers fell away from his naked chest, revealing how hard his heart was racing.

His room was pitch dark. He could hear rain against the steel roof. The storm was still going.

He smiled abruptly and touched his mouth. That had been a good dream. When was the last time he’d been with a woman? Too long. Was Kayleigh still interested in him, he wondered? He meant, was there a chance?

No. Stupid—stupid. He was married.

But Eva. She was single. And she liked him.

Stupid. Stop.

It was this moment that Tanner realized he wasn’t alone. A cool feeling settled over him, the feeling a rabbit gets when backed into its burrow by a fox.

In vague darkness of his room, shadows moved, and Tanner rolled sideways. There was a rush of air and wave of force pulverized his bed, smashing it into pieces. Wood crunched, splinters scattering. Stuffing filled the air.

Tanner landed in a crouch and slapped his revolver off the nightstand, turning towards the shockwave’s origin as his hand flew over the hammer. Six gunshots cracked into the night and then Tanner threw the gun sideways as someone came flying at him.

The stuffing settled to the ground.

A kick came at his midsection and he rolled to the side across his shoulders, standing up at the end. An elbow followed the kick, chasing him. Tanner parried it with a palm, replied with his own jab.

His attacker caught his arm at the wrist and elbow, and threw him across the room. Tanner tumbled through the air. Without light, he was powerless to stop himself. He slammed hard into the door, chest first, and fell to the floor.

“Great. Just great.” He muttered, starting to stand up, leaning against the door for balance, hoping his foe wouldn’t attack him from behind. He had no such luck. A slim hand clasped his throat and lifted him effortlessly into the air. Tanner gurgled as the breath was stolen from his throat, and was slammed back against the door. He pried at the fingers around his neck. They were like iron, pressing into his flesh. Thin, bony almost.

Desperately, he slapped the wall next to him, searching blindly for his salvation—the light switch. His fingers caught it, and the lights snapped on.

Shrike shielded her eyes with her arm as the overheads blazed on, but it was already too little too late. She could only watch as Tanner suddenly glowed golden--and then punched her at one one-millionth the speed of light.

It was like something unfathomably strong had peeled her off Tanner and chucked her. She shot backwards, smashing through the steel wall of Tanner’s room. The metal warped and puckered and then gave away entirely as Shrike was thrown through it, sending shards of steel in all directions. Shrike was launched across the desert, bouncing several times, and then slid to a stop. She did not move.

Tanner hovered in place where he’d been released, then dropped down to the ground, holding his already swelling hand. Equal and opposite reactions. You weren’t supposed to punch things three times the speed of a fast ball. That was faster than the human eye could track.

Outside, in the rain, Shrike rose up, dusting herself off. Well, it had been too much to hope that’d kill her. In fact, she appeared completely uninjured.

“Can’t catch a break.” He muttered, plucking his coat of its hanger as he stepped through the new doorway Shrike had made for him. He left the incandescent light of his room behind, accepting the natural light of the moon and stars instead. His bare feet squelched in the wet sand. The rain gathered on his shoulders, soaked his hair, and he shrugged into his coat. It felt sticky against his wet skin.

He reached into his coat and withdrew his butterfly knives, holding each in a hand. It hurt to wrap his injured hand around the knife. He wondered if he’d fractured a few somethings.

“How’d you find us?” Tanner called to her over the storm. He ran a thumb anxiously over the handle of one of his knives.

Shrike stood tall. Thunder rumbled, and lightning flashed.

She smirked at him. The dyed portion of her hair fell unevenly over her face in the rain. “Please. You should’ve known I was coming.”

“You should leave.” Tanner said. “I don’t want to fight you. That.” He nodded back at the hole she’d made in the side of the warehouse. “That’s nothing. I could punch you to space. Fly up and throw you into the sun.”

“You could.” Shrike agreed. “But you won’t. We both know what would happen after that.”

Tanner supposed she had him there.

The desert expanded two hundred meters between them. It was flat, barren, and empty. The rain poured down around them. It had wet his brow now, and dripped over his eyes. Tanner set his jaw. He wasn’t going to let her hurt anyone else.

“Fine.” He muttered, only loud enough for himself to hear. “Have it your way.”

It was like a beam of moonlight had cut its way through the storm to shine directly on Tanner. He glowed a sudden furious silver, lifted off the ground, and shot at Shrike, clothes rippling.

The hitwoman didn’t move, even as Tanner rapidly closed the distance. She stood perfectly still, an unworried expression on her face.

Tanner felt a sudden anger arise with him. The knives unfolded in his hands as he yelled at the top of his lungs. Thunder boomed.

Shrike vanished and reappeared in the same moment, close enough to drop on top of him. Tanner’s flight was stopped instantly as Shrike flattened him into the ground, driving a heel into his back.

Tanner twisted to avoid a broken spine and Shrike kicked the ground as she landed, throwing up a shower of sand. Tanner’s photokinesis pulled him sideways across the ground, and he landed in a crouch, growing brighter. He leapt at her, his jump enhanced and swung twice. Shrike avoided the first one, receiving the second across the armor of her stomach.

She kneed him in the gut, hard, and Tanner doubled over. She seized him by the hair on his head and twisted his neck painfully, turning him over. She raised a fist to punch into his throat.

Tanner exploded with light, and Shrike cursed as she was momentarily blinded. He swiped at her again, this time cutting her across the cheek, and Shrike reflexively letting go of him in the sudden flash of pain.

Tanner lunged, attacking Shrike as she recoiled, and was slammed into the dirt by a casual backhand from her. The hitwoman wiped her already healed cheek clean and kicked Tanner in the chest, sending him skidding across the ground. He gasped, feeling his ribs flex as they threatened to break.

He struggled to get up, sucking down air, and Shrike calmly approached.

He willed himself to his feet, just in time to avoid and sweeping kick from Shrike. He leapt backwards, pulled by glowing trails of light, out of her reach, but she quickly vanished and reappeared at his side.

He immediately shot upwards, taking to the skies, but before he could get serious height a hand grasped his ankle. Tanner was spun around like a doll, and summarily thrown face first back into the ground.

He rolled, trying to recover, and ended up on his hands and knees. His knives clattered from his grip, bouncing blade over pommel away from him. One came to rest at Shrike’s feet and she took her time to pick it up, crouching over the knife first to examine it. Tanner watched with growing dread as she took hold of the knife in an experienced grip and started towards him. He cast a frantic look around and located the second knife a few feet to his right. He recovered it and stood, holding it out before him, the back of his empty hand pressed to his throat as he assumed a tactical stance. Shrike may have been stronger than he was, faster, more experienced, but Tanner had the advantage of a decade and a half of knife-fighting under his belt. It was a losing battle he fought, but one he could fight all the same.

Shrike came at Tanner without any semblance of a defense, and Tanner took quick steps back to avoid the combination of kicks she lead with. He hastily ducked a spinning heel-kick that had threatened to take off his head.

As he rose out of his duck she swiped at his neck with the knife and Tanner parried it with his own, stumbling backwards, the sheer power of the blow enough to almost knock him off his feet. Her leg swung out and hammered into his side, hitting him hard enough to fracture his hip. Tanner buckled, and Shrike spun, raining a second kick down into his chest. There was a pop as one of his ribs snapped.

She brought the knife down at an angle, and Tanner side-stepped, punching the edge of the knife out. It caught her at the forearm, knocking her slice aside.

He raked the blade down her forearm, scratching her armor, and stepped inside her guard, slashing the top of the knife across her stomach. The armor deflected it there too, and Shrike shoved him back.

The shove would’ve slammed Tanner into the dirt, but his photokinesis caught him and brought his feet back beneath him. Shrike swung bodily at his head, putting all her weight behind her attack. Tanner bobbed under, moving beside her. He cut her at the knee, where the tendons were. The armor there was thin, and he felt his blow strike home.

The victory was short: Shrike’s elbow cocked back and sunk into his solar plexus. It was audibly dislocated. Tanner wheezed and all air was forced out of his chest in a sudden rush. Shrike turned around, an irritated expression on her face, wiping the blood off her knee, and Tanner waved his knife in effort to keep her back. Shrike caught his wrist, held it to herself, forced his arm straight, and broke it at the elbow.

He roared, feeling his arm go slack, and tried to will strength back into it, but was unable to do anything as the knife slipped from his dead fingers. It made a soft, ringing noise when it hit the dirt.

Shrike placed a palm against his chest and pushed him hard, knocking him flat, and stood over him. The pain in his abdomen intensified to agony, and he rolled over onto his stomach, coughing miserably and trying to rise again with the use of one working arm. He couldn’t manage it, but he did manage to drag himself away from Shrike, pawing the ground to gain every inch. It must’ve looked a pathetic, pitiful display. Tanner had seen similar himself, usually from men about to die.

The rough ground cut his naked skin and Tanner desperately scrambled in it, uncaring as the jagged stones bit into him. His struggling quickly proved useless, and his chest and stomach were bloody with scratches when Shrike’s boot prodded his side, forcefully turning him onto his back again.

She dropped down onto a knee, landing with all her weight onto his broken rib, and stars flashed across Tanner’s vision as his body threatened to give out, his eyes fluttering. The fight now was to stay awake, and he managed to force his eyes open just in time to see Shrike bringing the knife down towards his face.

There was a flash of light, and Tanner caught Shrike’s forearm. The knife’s blade hung over him by centimeters and its point was all he saw out of his left eye. Shrike’s strength more than matched his and the knife dropped towards his eye. Light flashed again, and Tanner switched his grip over, bracing his arm against Shrike’s like a frame, resisting her with all his strength.

The hitwoman smirked, and began to easily overpower him, slowly inching the knife towards his face. Every muscle in Tanner’s arm and chest quivered in protest as he pushed back, but it was no use. The stars grew bright overhead as Tanner drew on every pocket of strength he had. Shrike showed the slightest bit of effort, pursing her lips in concentration.

The blade of the knife bit into his face, ground bone beneath it, and Shrike dragged it downwards, gouging.

Tanner wasn’t able to help the horrified scream that followed, as the knife dredged its way over his brow, cleaved cleanly through his eye. The jelly squelched around the blade’s edge, and Shrike finished by slicing through the meat of his cheek. He felt her try to force it deeper, to finish the job, and Tanner screamed until his throat was raw and shoved. The knife was ripped from his face, making a sickeningly wet noise as it left his flesh.

Tanner’s strength failed him, and he let his arm drop to his side.

All his effort was for nothing. Shrike simply turned the knife over in her hand and placed the point at the shallow of his neck.

Tanner realized, in one last desperate moment, that he was about to die. He looked up at the moon with his one remaining eye and pulled on the light from it, reflected from the sun, with everything he had. There was a flash of lightning.

Tendrils of something gripped him underneath his arms, and yanked him out from beneath Shrike. She jumped, trying to grab hold of him, but he was rising into the sky too rapidly.

He looked down at her as she stood in the empty desert, and she back up at him. Her face was blank, but her eyes held bottomless fury.

“Ha.” Tanner hiccupped around the blood dribbling out of his mouth. He tried to wipe it away with his wrist, but only succeeded in smearing it across his face. He looked down at himself. Several parts of him were pointed ways they shouldn’t have been pointed. Everything else was wet with blood.

“That your best?” He coughed, forcing a smile. "Come'an get me."

Sirens blared within Warehouse Zulu. A calm, patient voice announced throughout the facility:

“Perimeter alarms have been tripped. A security sweep is recommended. Perimeter alarms have been tripped. A security sweep is recommended.”

Josey stumbled out of his room, half dressed in only jeans and a work shirt. His suspenders hung at his waist.

“What in the high hell is going on?” He demanded, holding his revolver up by his head.

The halls of the warehouse were dark, flashing intermittently with a bright, red light.