...thank you. I needed those laughs. ^^
Not sure if joking, or going to end up really, really surprised later.
**********
Ford had been struggling to get up ever since Tre had sat on his back. His struggles got more frantic with every point she made, right up until that last sentence. As Tre's commentary reached its peak, Ford's eyes widened, his pupils contracting to points. He slumped bonelessly to the ground, his eyes closing as his body went limp.
A few seconds passed. Tre just sat there on Ford's back, her head cocked to one side in surprise.
Then Ford twitched. Then again. If Tre had been able to see his face, she would've noticed the transition from solipsistic catatonia, to half-conscious awareness of the outside world, to unthinking, animalistic rage. As it was, her first indication of what was going on was when he stood up, throwing her off his back, and screamed.
Her second indication came when Imma finally turned around, in the form of a pair of empty yellow eyes.
"Graaaaahh... RAAAAAAAAGGH!!"
An irregular blue circle- not the runes and circles of a proper magic circle, but something like the combination of a spiral and an electromagnet- formed at Imma's feet. It quickly expanded to fill the room, and then stopped, settling down into a stable rotation.
By this time, Tre had stood up. She took one look at Imma, saw the circle on the ground, and immediately engaged her IS, flying at her top speed straight at him. As she got closer to her goal, two of the purple wings on her arms faded, reappearing as an energy knife in one hand.
Then the circle pulsed once. Tre fell out of the air, smacking face-first into the floor. She skidded forward, still moving at nearly full speed, only to run straight into Imma. The two of them rolled a few feet further, finally coming to a halt in a chaotic tangle of limbs.
Tre was the first to recover. Once she was aware again, it didn't take her long to untangle herself from Imma, who was still laying on the ground, barely moving. Given what they were, Tre knew that that wouldn't last.
There was only one thing for her to do. She climbed back on top of Imma, and punched him in the face, as hard as she could. Imma's head snapped back, hitting the floor... and then slowly, deliberately raised back up. Gold eyes met gold, and a pair of hands clamped down on Tre's midsection. Imma stood up, effortlessly lifting Tre with him, before slamming her back into the ground. While she was dazed, he grabbed her by the throat, lifting her above his head by one hand, and began to squeeze.
Tre, of course, noticed this, and resisted. She couldn't quite reach Imma's face to punch him, and he ignored every kick she delivered. Scaglietti's designs had eliminated most of the typical human pressure point weaknesses, so that approach was out. Pulling up an Impulse Blade just got her choked harder, impossibly enough, and a punch from his other arm. The only other option left to Tre was attempting to pry Imma's hand off her throat... an approach that met with all of the success of a mosquito attempting to stop a train.
The last things Tre noticed that day was Ford's pupils dilating back to normal, and a raspy, choked "...call me weak, will you?"
Both combatants hit the ground at the same time, Ford's jacket fizzling into nothingness as they passed out.
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.
Not sure if joking, or going to end up really, really surprised later.
**********
Ford had been struggling to get up ever since Tre had sat on his back. His struggles got more frantic with every point she made, right up until that last sentence. As Tre's commentary reached its peak, Ford's eyes widened, his pupils contracting to points. He slumped bonelessly to the ground, his eyes closing as his body went limp.
A few seconds passed. Tre just sat there on Ford's back, her head cocked to one side in surprise.
Then Ford twitched. Then again. If Tre had been able to see his face, she would've noticed the transition from solipsistic catatonia, to half-conscious awareness of the outside world, to unthinking, animalistic rage. As it was, her first indication of what was going on was when he stood up, throwing her off his back, and screamed.
Her second indication came when Imma finally turned around, in the form of a pair of empty yellow eyes.
"Graaaaahh... RAAAAAAAAGGH!!"
An irregular blue circle- not the runes and circles of a proper magic circle, but something like the combination of a spiral and an electromagnet- formed at Imma's feet. It quickly expanded to fill the room, and then stopped, settling down into a stable rotation.
By this time, Tre had stood up. She took one look at Imma, saw the circle on the ground, and immediately engaged her IS, flying at her top speed straight at him. As she got closer to her goal, two of the purple wings on her arms faded, reappearing as an energy knife in one hand.
Then the circle pulsed once. Tre fell out of the air, smacking face-first into the floor. She skidded forward, still moving at nearly full speed, only to run straight into Imma. The two of them rolled a few feet further, finally coming to a halt in a chaotic tangle of limbs.
Tre was the first to recover. Once she was aware again, it didn't take her long to untangle herself from Imma, who was still laying on the ground, barely moving. Given what they were, Tre knew that that wouldn't last.
There was only one thing for her to do. She climbed back on top of Imma, and punched him in the face, as hard as she could. Imma's head snapped back, hitting the floor... and then slowly, deliberately raised back up. Gold eyes met gold, and a pair of hands clamped down on Tre's midsection. Imma stood up, effortlessly lifting Tre with him, before slamming her back into the ground. While she was dazed, he grabbed her by the throat, lifting her above his head by one hand, and began to squeeze.
Tre, of course, noticed this, and resisted. She couldn't quite reach Imma's face to punch him, and he ignored every kick she delivered. Scaglietti's designs had eliminated most of the typical human pressure point weaknesses, so that approach was out. Pulling up an Impulse Blade just got her choked harder, impossibly enough, and a punch from his other arm. The only other option left to Tre was attempting to pry Imma's hand off her throat... an approach that met with all of the success of a mosquito attempting to stop a train.
The last things Tre noticed that day was Ford's pupils dilating back to normal, and a raspy, choked "...call me weak, will you?"
Both combatants hit the ground at the same time, Ford's jacket fizzling into nothingness as they passed out.
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.