12-22-2015, 02:49 PM
Athena's mind was a pendulum. It would swing one way, and she would doubt, and slow, and breathe, quivering with adrenaline and stress, but at least coherent. As soon as she would begin to regain her sense of self, though, another wave of hatred and panic would reach her, and she'd once again leap at her opponent, almost consciously treating him as an embodiment of all her worst fears. Her blood rushed through her with the force of a waterfall, and feral growls and cries escaped her lips as she fought, much to the shame of her repressed self-restraint.
When the God-Soul hit the counter after a barrage of telekinetically-controlled billiard balls, another such upsurge coursed through her, violent enough that she shrieked several octaves higher than she regularly spoke. The trauma to her torso went nearly unnoticed, drowned out by the sound and the fury that overwhelmed her. As Sans leaped off the counter, Athena reached behind her back again and drew out Crescent Gold. She aimed and pulled the trigger more quickly than she had known she could. The skeleton was an inhumanly fast runner, but not fast enough. The searing bullet entered straight through his ribs, leaving a ragged hole in his hoodie as he fell, virtually helpless, only a few feet from the door.
Athena leaped to her feet and pulled hard on the switch to transform her rifle. The mechanics clicked and each hinge rotated, unfolding the blades and extending the handle until the Soul of Mind was holding her brown and golden scythe tightly in one hand. She paused for a split second, poised atop the counter, face in shadow under her hood. Had she been the skeleton instead of her quarry, an observer could have easily mistaken the young woman for the Grim Reaper himself: scythe in hand, cloak flowing out behind her, with an eerily stoic expression painted on her face. However, there were no observers. Sans' death would be in solitude.
Somewhere in Athena's mind, she knew she needed to try to stop. She was perhaps not the most selfless being in the Omniverse, but she would do what she must to keep herself from killing an innocent. Now was her only chance before she lost herself again. She didn't have the control to cease entirely, but there was one possibility that remained. As she moved to jump down from the bar, a sudden impulse from the higher part of her mind forced her to hesitate - already halfway in the air. She struggled to regain her balance, but there was no hope of landing feet-first. The Soul of Mind fell. It wasn't far, but her head struck the stone tile of the restaurant floor, and her ties to the corporeal world were severed.
~~~~~~
At first, she was certain it was a table. Her vision was blurry and swimming, and before her sat a dark blob on three legs - or was it four? - with a bench before it. Everything else around her was a dim, washed-out grey, and whenever she tried to look away, the bench and table drew her eyes back to it again. Eyes. She wondered absently what had happened to her blindfold, but most of her attention was still focused on the table. It was an odd table, if that was what it was. A slanted board extended from one side, and the top was far from flat. She squinted as she tried to get her vision to clear. Bits of white and black covered one side of it. A glimmer of recognition. She stood up and stepped a few feet closer, still staring at the peculiar item, much less sure of its purpose now. After a couple moments' hesitation, she sat down lightly on the bench, facing the black and white keys. Yes, that's right. Keys, she thought to herself. You know what this is. You can play it, right, M- She stopped. Her name. She paused. Athena. Right. Definitely. Never mind that. Play.
She played. She stretched out her fingers and began pressing the keys, sometimes several at a time, sometimes one by one. She couldn't completely understand what she was doing, but she kept doing it. The music rose from deep within the instrument, permeating her consciousness until the space around her was clear as crystal.
~~~~~~
When Athena awoke, the last thing she remembered was tripping and falling off the counter. Her head pounded and she noticed blood - actual blood, not bright, viscous ketchup - dripping off her forehead. She raised herself up on her elbows, still gripping Crescent Gold in her right hand. Her fingers felt odd. They seemed to still be full of energy, while the rest of her was weak and wracked with shivers; yet, she was just fine.
When the God-Soul hit the counter after a barrage of telekinetically-controlled billiard balls, another such upsurge coursed through her, violent enough that she shrieked several octaves higher than she regularly spoke. The trauma to her torso went nearly unnoticed, drowned out by the sound and the fury that overwhelmed her. As Sans leaped off the counter, Athena reached behind her back again and drew out Crescent Gold. She aimed and pulled the trigger more quickly than she had known she could. The skeleton was an inhumanly fast runner, but not fast enough. The searing bullet entered straight through his ribs, leaving a ragged hole in his hoodie as he fell, virtually helpless, only a few feet from the door.
Athena leaped to her feet and pulled hard on the switch to transform her rifle. The mechanics clicked and each hinge rotated, unfolding the blades and extending the handle until the Soul of Mind was holding her brown and golden scythe tightly in one hand. She paused for a split second, poised atop the counter, face in shadow under her hood. Had she been the skeleton instead of her quarry, an observer could have easily mistaken the young woman for the Grim Reaper himself: scythe in hand, cloak flowing out behind her, with an eerily stoic expression painted on her face. However, there were no observers. Sans' death would be in solitude.
Somewhere in Athena's mind, she knew she needed to try to stop. She was perhaps not the most selfless being in the Omniverse, but she would do what she must to keep herself from killing an innocent. Now was her only chance before she lost herself again. She didn't have the control to cease entirely, but there was one possibility that remained. As she moved to jump down from the bar, a sudden impulse from the higher part of her mind forced her to hesitate - already halfway in the air. She struggled to regain her balance, but there was no hope of landing feet-first. The Soul of Mind fell. It wasn't far, but her head struck the stone tile of the restaurant floor, and her ties to the corporeal world were severed.
~~~~~~
At first, she was certain it was a table. Her vision was blurry and swimming, and before her sat a dark blob on three legs - or was it four? - with a bench before it. Everything else around her was a dim, washed-out grey, and whenever she tried to look away, the bench and table drew her eyes back to it again. Eyes. She wondered absently what had happened to her blindfold, but most of her attention was still focused on the table. It was an odd table, if that was what it was. A slanted board extended from one side, and the top was far from flat. She squinted as she tried to get her vision to clear. Bits of white and black covered one side of it. A glimmer of recognition. She stood up and stepped a few feet closer, still staring at the peculiar item, much less sure of its purpose now. After a couple moments' hesitation, she sat down lightly on the bench, facing the black and white keys. Yes, that's right. Keys, she thought to herself. You know what this is. You can play it, right, M- She stopped. Her name. She paused. Athena. Right. Definitely. Never mind that. Play.
She played. She stretched out her fingers and began pressing the keys, sometimes several at a time, sometimes one by one. She couldn't completely understand what she was doing, but she kept doing it. The music rose from deep within the instrument, permeating her consciousness until the space around her was clear as crystal.
~~~~~~
When Athena awoke, the last thing she remembered was tripping and falling off the counter. Her head pounded and she noticed blood - actual blood, not bright, viscous ketchup - dripping off her forehead. She raised herself up on her elbows, still gripping Crescent Gold in her right hand. Her fingers felt odd. They seemed to still be full of energy, while the rest of her was weak and wracked with shivers; yet, she was just fine.
Quote:Athena's Round 2 Post Complete!
Word Count: 800
Moves Used: None (Crescent Gold - Scythe was prepped, but never used to inflict damage)
Powers Used: None
![[Image: 2WaRJHm.png]](http://i.imgur.com/2WaRJHm.png)