12-26-2015, 08:22 PM
Getting blown clear off the stage had been awfully painful, but Jade wasn’t one to give up so easily. Still, she was mighty peeved when the vile planet thief split into five separate entities, each one choosing its own wildly different path to follow.
Her eyes were daggers against their retreating backs, her teeth gritting against the pain she felt after being tossed such a great distance. If only she had been watching closer, she might have seen the true thief clambering up onto the glittering stage with a great heave and a huff.
Hardly wasting any time, Jade climbed atop a seat row and began to awkwardly clamber from one plush cushion to another in pursuit of her chosen duplicate. The theater was dim, but she could see his fluctuating cloak— there one millisecond and gone the next. Jade’s knees knocked together inelegantly as she leaped over the seats, but her steps were buoyant and vigorous.
Her fingers had scarcely wrapped around the fabric of the thief’s cloak when a hand from behind tangled in her hair and tugged. With a muffled shout, the blood roaring in her ears and over her burning scalp, Jade toppled backwards, taking the thief with her.
They fell into a flummoxed heap of scrabbling limbs, fabric, and metal; the Witch of Space felt the rubbery drag of her nails across skin, the painful, jilting elbow that dug into her ribs with a vengeance.
It ended with one of the clones having receded into nonexistence, and Jade soon found that her fingers were wrapped tightly around the fluttering throat of the other, her nostrils flared as she jammed the dastardly thief against the craggy dirt. Pale grey eyes stared up into hers, shifting like silvery-white clouds over a winter sky.
Jade stared back, and for a brief second was stricken with a horrible, unmistakable impression— that these limbs were her own, that she was committing to a heinous act so vile and unlike anything she ever wanted to be.
“I’m sorry,” she gasped, and released the doppelganger as if she had been burned. “I didn’t mean to—“
The man phased out of existence in a haywire tilt of shadow and tossed moon dust. Jade’s hands grasped at nothing, seeking purchase against something palpable, but unexpectedly a sturdy weight struck the side of her jaw and sent her reeling over the seats.
This third mimicry of a person smirked at her, and Jade felt all of her earlier ire come flooding back to her in a sweltering wave. It was tempered, however— hardly the volcanic rage she had nearly let erupt, but just enough to make the raw feeling of her fist colliding with the shade’s face that much sweeter.
As it dissipated into nothing, Jade’s eyes roved the theater for any sign of her target, the muscles of her legs drawn bowstring taut. A fluttering of movement drew her attention, the sweep of a cloak and the delicate descent of a dark curtain, and before long Jade was after her foe again.
Her chest heaved as she arrived backstage, the velvet curtains and wooden props spread around her in a heady blanket of stuffy air and congealed greyish-white dust. She tossed her hair back out of her face, cheeks pock-marked with stinging red, and squinted upwards.
It was almost as if she were staring up through the insides of some massive beast, a fragile skeleton of gleaming steel made further evident by the widespread cavities of empty blackness interspersed between. Distant stars blinked in the gloom, like the fog lights of ships through a wavering maelstrom of sea and spray.
A sweep of murky fabric, like the tumultuous wave of a ship’s sail, briefly seeped out of the darkness only to quickly recede again as if swallowed up by a monstrous, inky black swell. Her teeth ground together in determination, Jade seized ahold of the nearest metal scaffold, the bottom of her dress swaying quietly about her legs as she clambered up into the dark canopy above.
There was a feeling of breathlessness that overtook her as she reached the top; when she dared to look down, pinkish crescent moons swirled as if across the surface of a shadowy pond, the dancers still carrying out their performance. The Frogons seemed so different from up there, the warts and hog-nosed expressions difficult to discern from such a dizzying height. They drifted languidly beneath the steel mesh of the catwalk beneath her feet, their movements measured and rife with significance.
The dog-eared girl narrowed her eyes at the shadowy form slinking ahead of her, quiet as a serpent through water-logged reeds. She made her way towards him, quick footsteps feather-light and empty space swinging between them like a pendulum.
Her hands had just scraped along the edge of his cloak when he disappeared, as if he were simply a smidgeon of dew along a glass pane that had been swept away. Jade felt a weight drop onto the catwalk behind her with a resounding thud.
Startled, she turned around. The thief stood there, hands held carefully at his sides, unclear shadows shaping fancifully about his grimacing face. Jade was actually surprised to see a small mark marring his cheek from where she had failed to fully sock him in the face, along with other scratches and burns here and there.
Jade glared, raising one hand into the air. A medium-sized light fixture nearby began to move, metallic and grating shudders becoming gradually noticeable as an eerie green light gathered around it.
Her fingers convulsed and curled lightly, the bulb whisked through the air in a spray of white-hot electrical sparks. It came to rest beside her outstretched palm, suspended in the air as if it were weightless.
“By the way,” the Witch said, her fingers slowly clenching into a fist as hissing lightning sketched about them. “Fortune is totally fake.”
With a sharp flick of her wrist, the hot, still-sparking light went hurtling directly towards Demetri.
Her eyes were daggers against their retreating backs, her teeth gritting against the pain she felt after being tossed such a great distance. If only she had been watching closer, she might have seen the true thief clambering up onto the glittering stage with a great heave and a huff.
Hardly wasting any time, Jade climbed atop a seat row and began to awkwardly clamber from one plush cushion to another in pursuit of her chosen duplicate. The theater was dim, but she could see his fluctuating cloak— there one millisecond and gone the next. Jade’s knees knocked together inelegantly as she leaped over the seats, but her steps were buoyant and vigorous.
Her fingers had scarcely wrapped around the fabric of the thief’s cloak when a hand from behind tangled in her hair and tugged. With a muffled shout, the blood roaring in her ears and over her burning scalp, Jade toppled backwards, taking the thief with her.
They fell into a flummoxed heap of scrabbling limbs, fabric, and metal; the Witch of Space felt the rubbery drag of her nails across skin, the painful, jilting elbow that dug into her ribs with a vengeance.
It ended with one of the clones having receded into nonexistence, and Jade soon found that her fingers were wrapped tightly around the fluttering throat of the other, her nostrils flared as she jammed the dastardly thief against the craggy dirt. Pale grey eyes stared up into hers, shifting like silvery-white clouds over a winter sky.
Jade stared back, and for a brief second was stricken with a horrible, unmistakable impression— that these limbs were her own, that she was committing to a heinous act so vile and unlike anything she ever wanted to be.
“I’m sorry,” she gasped, and released the doppelganger as if she had been burned. “I didn’t mean to—“
The man phased out of existence in a haywire tilt of shadow and tossed moon dust. Jade’s hands grasped at nothing, seeking purchase against something palpable, but unexpectedly a sturdy weight struck the side of her jaw and sent her reeling over the seats.
This third mimicry of a person smirked at her, and Jade felt all of her earlier ire come flooding back to her in a sweltering wave. It was tempered, however— hardly the volcanic rage she had nearly let erupt, but just enough to make the raw feeling of her fist colliding with the shade’s face that much sweeter.
As it dissipated into nothing, Jade’s eyes roved the theater for any sign of her target, the muscles of her legs drawn bowstring taut. A fluttering of movement drew her attention, the sweep of a cloak and the delicate descent of a dark curtain, and before long Jade was after her foe again.
Her chest heaved as she arrived backstage, the velvet curtains and wooden props spread around her in a heady blanket of stuffy air and congealed greyish-white dust. She tossed her hair back out of her face, cheeks pock-marked with stinging red, and squinted upwards.
It was almost as if she were staring up through the insides of some massive beast, a fragile skeleton of gleaming steel made further evident by the widespread cavities of empty blackness interspersed between. Distant stars blinked in the gloom, like the fog lights of ships through a wavering maelstrom of sea and spray.
A sweep of murky fabric, like the tumultuous wave of a ship’s sail, briefly seeped out of the darkness only to quickly recede again as if swallowed up by a monstrous, inky black swell. Her teeth ground together in determination, Jade seized ahold of the nearest metal scaffold, the bottom of her dress swaying quietly about her legs as she clambered up into the dark canopy above.
There was a feeling of breathlessness that overtook her as she reached the top; when she dared to look down, pinkish crescent moons swirled as if across the surface of a shadowy pond, the dancers still carrying out their performance. The Frogons seemed so different from up there, the warts and hog-nosed expressions difficult to discern from such a dizzying height. They drifted languidly beneath the steel mesh of the catwalk beneath her feet, their movements measured and rife with significance.
The dog-eared girl narrowed her eyes at the shadowy form slinking ahead of her, quiet as a serpent through water-logged reeds. She made her way towards him, quick footsteps feather-light and empty space swinging between them like a pendulum.
Her hands had just scraped along the edge of his cloak when he disappeared, as if he were simply a smidgeon of dew along a glass pane that had been swept away. Jade felt a weight drop onto the catwalk behind her with a resounding thud.
Startled, she turned around. The thief stood there, hands held carefully at his sides, unclear shadows shaping fancifully about his grimacing face. Jade was actually surprised to see a small mark marring his cheek from where she had failed to fully sock him in the face, along with other scratches and burns here and there.
Jade glared, raising one hand into the air. A medium-sized light fixture nearby began to move, metallic and grating shudders becoming gradually noticeable as an eerie green light gathered around it.
Her fingers convulsed and curled lightly, the bulb whisked through the air in a spray of white-hot electrical sparks. It came to rest beside her outstretched palm, suspended in the air as if it were weightless.
“By the way,” the Witch said, her fingers slowly clenching into a fist as hissing lightning sketched about them. “Fortune is totally fake.”
With a sharp flick of her wrist, the hot, still-sparking light went hurtling directly towards Demetri.
Quote:1000 words according to wordcounter.net.
Jade takes out three of Demetri’s clones with her Physical Strength! The fourth clone simply vanishes.
Jade uses her Telekinesis to toss a light fixture at Demetri’s head.
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Gamzee Makara Wrote:S’aight. After all, dogs have a tendency to motherfuckin’ bite.