twiststheblade (
twiststheblade) wrote2006-06-01 09:22 pm
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Angels: Act One.
The door opens onto a room, not small, not large. Bare, pale walls that could be made of paper, but aren't. There is a window, shuttered against the sun, pale light struggling weakly in to lie in stripes across the wooden floor.
The bed(futon) hasn't been made, white sheets tangled and draped half off onto the floor.
The only splash of colour in the room comes from a vase containing a single spray of yellow flowers, which sits atop a simple lacquered chest. Also atop the chest is a single, dog-eared book, titled 'Koshoku ichidai onna', and two small brown glass bottles, safety capped, labelled in japanese.
Miho steps noiselessly through the door, one finger to her lips, although of course she doesn't have to remind the others of the need for caution. She's all in her habitual black - soft jeans, well broken-in boots, tightly laced, the usual short-sleeved shirt and a loose kimono jacket over it all. There's a knife at each hip, and one at the small of her back. She has her forearm sheaths, as usual, and the bandolier of shuriken. There is a knife in each boot. No swords. Not. . . yet.
I can do this. It's not different than any other place. And I'm not alone. I don't have to be alone.
She raises her eyebrows to Goldy, and tilts her head to the door, a deceptively heavy affair, locked from outside.
The bed(futon) hasn't been made, white sheets tangled and draped half off onto the floor.
The only splash of colour in the room comes from a vase containing a single spray of yellow flowers, which sits atop a simple lacquered chest. Also atop the chest is a single, dog-eared book, titled 'Koshoku ichidai onna', and two small brown glass bottles, safety capped, labelled in japanese.
Miho steps noiselessly through the door, one finger to her lips, although of course she doesn't have to remind the others of the need for caution. She's all in her habitual black - soft jeans, well broken-in boots, tightly laced, the usual short-sleeved shirt and a loose kimono jacket over it all. There's a knife at each hip, and one at the small of her back. She has her forearm sheaths, as usual, and the bandolier of shuriken. There is a knife in each boot. No swords. Not. . . yet.
I can do this. It's not different than any other place. And I'm not alone. I don't have to be alone.
She raises her eyebrows to Goldy, and tilts her head to the door, a deceptively heavy affair, locked from outside.
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Goldy gets a disparaging glance. However, Alanna's curiosity gets the better of her.
Softly, "what's a wedgie?"
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She doesn't yank hard however. It's not enough to overbalance the knight or cause any real discomfort.
"Multiply the force of that by ten, and you've got yourself a wedgie," she declares informatively.
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Her eyes never stop moving though, watching for movement. She knows it'll come, she's just not too sure when. She doesn't know the patterns of the outer guards.
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"You'd best be thankful I wore undergarments today."
Smirking, she gently shoves Goldy off the wall and drops down immediately after.
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Goldy wasn't actually expecting to be pushed. She was waiting to get in position to land exactly where Miho had. She manages to bite back the squawk and land on her feet, albeit very heavily. It takes her a couple of steps to recapture her balance.
She turns on her heel and glares at Alanna when she hits the ground.
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Probably nothing.
Just kids.
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Pity it's too late to gain bonus points by following instructions to the 't.'
At the warning bell, she curses under her breath.
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"Okay," sotto voce, "we've got half a minute maybe. There're dogs, so go for the guards, let me deal with the animals."
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She then gestures at a loose thicket of rhodedendron a few yards away, and hisses, "cover!" Her Beretta has already been whipped out from the small of her back again and the safety thumbed off.
"I'll take the right flank. Alanna, left. Sweetness," she gives Miho a wink, "...just do your thing."
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"Right," she hisses. "Left... flank."
Her first assumption is that she is to shoot someone in the left buttock.
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The man does not follow the dog, but trains his gun on the bushes.
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Her aim is settled and unwavering. She's in her element. An unblinking statue in the shadows of the foliage. Unmindful of the tears of rain coursing down her face. Unflinching at the cold droplets that somehow find a way through the maze of gold and touch the back of her neck. Drenched almost to the skin, but still wearing a deadly cloak of poise and focus.
( breathe in, steady hand, exhale )
She's always been a shoot first-ask questions later kind of girl. That's how it has to be in her line of work.
( breathe in, steady hand, exhale )
There is an unrelenting spat-spat-spat of water hitting a leaf just inches from her steely gaze. She hears it and thinks it sounds almost like the ticking of a big clock. Nothing changes. There are no doubts, and there will be no remorse.
( breathe in, steady hand, exhale... and squeeze )
The drip holds, missing a beat. Then it falls, larger and different of tone.
—tock—
Miho's word...
...And the shot is postponed.
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In the meantime, she takes careful aim at the man's ass.
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At the frantic barking the guard lets off a burst of gunfire into the bush.
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Not so her father's guards, and she has a shuriken out and whirling to his gun arm almost before the dog impacts the ground.
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Whatever crippling damage Miho's star inflicts, there is no scream of pain to accompany it. Just a body, now useless, crumpling into the wet earth. Rain mixes with blood, forming a delicate river of pink trickling away from a small holecenter of the forehead, just above the bridge of the nose.
Goldy berates herself for hesitating and lunges for Alanna's arm to ensure that she doesn't shoot as well. Her revolver is unsilenced.
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Gruffly, "let's go before they are missed."
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"We've got about two minutes before he's supposed to call back, I think. Stick to the edges of the bushes, we should be fine."
She looks over her shoulder at Goldy as she begins to walk off. "And shoot first next time, love." Her smile takes any sting out of the words - it's just advice, tailored specifically to this location, these enemies.
She ducks under the low, dripping branches, moving swiftly but neatly, boots almost silent on the damp ground. Behind them, the man is still and the dog almost as still, only the gently rise and fall of it's ribcage testifying to the fact that it lives.
In front of them is a low building, to the side of a wide set of gates. A few men are visible, but the majority are escaping the rain somewhere, less dligent than they would have bveen in good weather. This can only be to the little party's advantage.
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She follows behind as silently as she is able, keeping to Miho's path and remaining vigilant as they approach the entrance.
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Rain drips down her cheeks like tears, like sweat, like blood. It gets in her eyes, but she dares not wipe it away.
The dagger is back in her hand.
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"If we can take them by thurprithe," she says quietly - the letter 's' carries further than any other sound - 'we can avoid having them trigger the alarm. The we can get tranthport and get out of here without any other trouble. I only thee three. . . You?"
She raises an eyebrow, looking sideways at them, keeping the building and it's complement of guards in her peripheral vision.
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Wiithout waiting for further instruction, she drops to one knee and takes aim on the closest guard. She isn't going to make the same mistake twice. Her gun sounds its low wmmmp three times in a row.
Two men silently fall.
The third grunts and stumbles, clutching his neck and vanishing from sight behind a crop of tall rose bushes.
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There were four.
Luckily, he's on the far side of the building, and hasn't seen the fallen men, nor did he hear anything out of the ordinary.
This is a state of affairs that may not last, however.
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