Re: Maroonian Misadventures

by **Jack Maroon** December 19th 2012, 5:35 am

Jack had lost all control. There was a significant difference between the man he now was and the man he had once been when he had first begun. Back then, he did what he did for fun; it was the thrill of battle, the feeling of being in control of both his own life and that of his opponents. He fought because he believed zealously that it was his purpose, his destiny to do so, and become the warrior he had always wanted to be.
Now all that remained of this attitude was but a distant echo, a distorted reflection of a carefree past. Pounding his fists onto the face of this girl, his current enemy in a long line of predecessors, there was no enjoyment, no meaning. An aimless rage dominated his mind and body, borne from a desperation to salvage anything that resembled the confident sense of purpose he had once held and the bliss he used to feel in combat.
But he could find no such thing.

At some point in the struggle, his sunglasses had either broken or just fallen off, exposing his eyes to another for the first time in years. They were wide-open with that maniac expression that betrayed his feelings; despite all his strengths and abilities, he felt powerless, no longer able to commit to his old persona but also unable to let it go.
The sight of his opponent only fueled his rage further. For a moment there, as her stare met his, he saw some semblance of himself in there. It didn't seem like she was doing this for any reason in particular. Was she forced by some shady organization? She sure as hell didn't seem reluctant to fight, or fearful in the least, so that was very unlikely. Did she fight out of conviction, out of a sense of wrong and right? No. Her attitude was uncaring and aggressive, and the straightforwardness of it all erased all possibility of a deeper moral drive behind her actions.
Then, did she enjoy this? Or was this all she knew in life, just like him.

It seemed she had realized his attacks were unlikely to cease any time soon, and despite her toughness the damage still soaked through her defenses. A well-placed kick was delivered with both her legs in an attempt to move him off of her. Jack hadn't seen it coming, but wouldn't let her off this easily. In a last ditch effort to do some damage, he grabbed tight hold of her laser-wire gloves while being kicked off. If he could rip off those weapons he'd make this a lot easier on himself. No more stupid toys. Toys are for babies.
If she tried to resist his pull, maybe it'd cripple some of her fingers if he succeeded in pulling off the gauntlets.
Either way, the kick connected, and sent him flying off of the girl and slamming right into a car. Jack let out a wheeze and a cough, and instinctively moved his hand to his stomach. He had underestimated her strength, and overestimated his own durability. Despite his unnatural capacity to resist physical damage, he wasn't used to getting hit, especially not by forces equal to his own. It had always been easy for him to dodge attacks, and now he was paying the price for that. Still, it wasn't anything that would slow him down significantly. He was made of tougher stuff than that.

"Is that all you can do?! Why are you even fighting, why are you fucking here?! Why?! Why?!" Jack began to shout at his opponent while recovering from the damage.
"You want to win? You think that's going to change a thing? It won't! It won't!"
There was no more teasing mockery in his voice, no malice or enthusiasm. If anything, he seemed sad, angry at her for something, or angry at himself. It was likely hard to tell, both for himself and this girl who did not even know him.
Despite his outburst, he expected no return of words, and was ready to continue the battle if his opponent pressed him further. He wasn't worried. He couldn't lose. Not against someone like her. Someone like him.

by **The Bolt** December 20th 2012, 4:10 pm

The short bloody confrontation lasted only a minute at the most,but it felt like it lasted much longer than it seemed. The man tried to pull back while trying to remove her most powerful weapon from her grasp with his monstrous strength that seemed to match hers easily,though his attempt was doomed to fail. A painful pop reverberated through her fingers at what sounded like her fingers dislocating,Reaper roaring in pain as the veil of blood lust lifted and Jack once again distanced himself. There was pain coursing through her hand but she would have to try to ignore it and fight on.

She stared at the ground for a matter of seconds as her mind tried to recover from the blood rage that had overwhelmed it. Blood was pouring from her nose and her face felt sore,most likely bruised from the massive damage that the brute had inflicted upon her pale visage. It seemed that she was not going to win this fight of theirs,but something within her would prevent her from just running away as well as the fact he could easily catch her if she tried. The kick had served its purpose but now she was left too drained to really combat this maniac,she had saved her most powerful weapon from being removed but at what cost. Pain still coursed through her mangled and dislocated fingers,fingers that she still intended to use in this fight if she could. She hated him and all the pain that he had caused her;there would be great retribution for what he had done.

Then he began to shout at her,something that incited a flame deep within that would have been better off unlit. He would dare insult her? Now she was not looking upon Jack Maroon but something else entirely,the sum of all her hatred and inadequacies put into a physical form. Her lips curled into a feral snarl as she took a step forward,body wavering with what seemed like a great exertion just to do so,muscles threatening to give out under the weight of her own body. Reaper had tried to do too much with so little time and now she was paying for it,fingers barely capable of forming a fist let alone being used to fight this man. It seemed like she now had no chance against him but that fact was far beyond what her mind could grasp for,only pure unadulterated rage and hatred. Now she only wanted to rip him into so many pieces and cover herself in the rich flowing blood as she crushed his still beating heart within her powerful fingers.

With a single thought she drew upon the power that the gauntlets could give her as the strength flowed through her and the weakness seemed to ebb away,pain also joining the power. Reaper roared as her muscles tried to accommodate the boost,hands clenching as the knuckles painfully popped back into place. Logic did not drive her,it was now only the one instinct to kill. Reaper was beyond pain and she was beyond hesitance,only a single goal that drove her mind like a honed arrow towards her target,it was something that she had to do. With a thought she attempted to extend the thin laser wires but something happened instead of that.

An explosion rang out as burning pain permeated her white skin. The pain bloomed across her arms and they fell slack against her side. The weapon itself had exploded it seemed,skin burnt and blood running down her arms as it fell off in droplets down to the ground. Shayla stared dumbfounded at what had happened before glaring up to the man that vexed her so. What could she not kill him? Everyone she was sent to kill died,they all died except for....Gossamer. That woman always looked down upon Reaper,always. She could see it within her eyes when she looked at her and this man looked down upon her too. This guy pissed her off more than he could have ever realized,she hated him with all of her being and she could not even fully articulate the reason herself. Taking a step forward she used the new strength that was soon to fail to hold her up,to get closer to ending the life of this man who had treated her as nothing but a child flailing pointlessly, as if in the end her efforts were meaningless.

”To kill you, thats why!” She spat with what remained of her sarcasm. ”I don't give a damn if it doesn't change anything! You're fucking dead!” She roared looking to her side as her hand gripped into the metal exterior of what was a car,fingers digging into the metal as if it were wet tissue paper and hefting the vehicle up into the air above her head. Her now ruined arms seemed unable to perform such a task but she did so with what looked like a insane ease as she threw the car forward with all of the strength that she could muster. Vehicle now sailing forward with an amazing amount of speed,aimed to crush the man known as Jack Maroon under its massive weight. She could still hold onto this increased power for a little longer and she planned to use it to its full advantage while she had it. All to kill this man,to end his life. Nothing else felt like it mattered at this moment,her mind had been made up.

by **Jack Maroon** December 21st 2012, 10:34 am

Agent Reaper, or whatever her real name was, could not defeat him. It wasn't because of the gap between their speed of movement; while she could not hope to match his, it should have been enough to hold her own against him. Nor was it her lack of skill compared to his; she was skilled enough to face him. Perhaps not defeat him in direct combat, sure, but it definitely gave her enough of a fighting chance. To compensate for the gap between their skill and speed, she was equipped with all kinds of machinery. Plasma pistols, energy sabers, laser-wire gloves and even physical enhancements that enabled her to far surpass his strength and durability.
Now that she had been stripped of most of her weaponry, her arms and hands mangled by a malfunction of her augmentations and her face bruised and bloodied from Jack's fists, she had lost any chance at victory. She could not defeat him. But even if she were still in peak condition and health, Jack knew she could not win. It wasn't her skills, her speed, her weapons or her physical statistics that kept her from defeating him. It was her mind.

Jack had lost his temper for the first time in ages; he'd even lost his sunglasses, which shielded his eyes from the prying gazes of others. He had yelled at her, desperately pleaded her to answer him. And when she finally did answer, he knew enough. His muscles relaxed, his mind cleared up within an instant. All the rage and confusion drained from his face, leaving only a mixture of pity and determination. Pity for the girl, who did not know what she was fighting for, killing for, and didn't even seem to be looking for the answer. The girl whose head was so filled with thoughts of victory, and whether or not she was weak or strong, that she had forgotten to ask herself why she wanted to be strong in the first place. She wanted to kill him because she was angry and confused. A dead body brings up no questions, cannot instill doubt or fear, or feelings of inadequacy. It was a simple solution, but in reality solved nothing at all. The girl was a wreck, a broken soldier doll that Jack was finished playing with. He'd had enough of her, and how she reminded him of himself. He wasn't like that anymore. Maybe he hadn't found his place in the world yet, a purpose worth living and dying for, but at least he was looking.

The moment Reaper lifted the car to throw it, Jack already began running towards her. When she finally did hurl it, he deftly jumped over it, and continued advancing towards her until he was only a few feet removed from her. From there, he walked towards her at a brisk pace, making no use of his super speed whatsoever. When he'd reach her, he would deck her in the face hard, and then proceed to punch her at several vital points, aiming to make her lose consciousness. He had no words left for her now, not while she was in this condition.
Whoever sent her had done a number on her, warping her into this monster she was now. Or did the fault lie with her, and had she become one by choice? Either way, Jack wanted to have a word with her employers. He was not satisfied with the quality of their service.

by **The Bolt** December 22nd 2012, 9:18 pm

Her futile attempt at harming the man had gone up in flames so to speak,him easily dodging the car as if it were something so easy to do. Now he was just toying with her,no it seemed as if he had grown bored of her,something that Reaper would not stand for. She was not some toy that he could play with and throw away at his leisure,she was a warrior, a harbinger of death that left rivers of blood within her wake. Now he was only approaching her in what seemed like a walk for him, as if she could do nothing to him even with her body still coursing with power. She would not let him walk over her like some sort of doormat,she would end him now even if it killed her.

Her body moved reflexively as if trying to prepare for some sort of strike,preparing to end him with her bare hands. Then came the powerful strike across her face that seemed to knock all sense out of her. Follwing that was a series of painful jabs in what seemed like well chosen areas, as her vision seemed to darken and everything faded to nothingness. Out of pure instinct her fist lashed forward,missing his face by mere inches as she ht the ground face first but still conscious. Yet everything was within a black haze,as if her eyes had suddenly stopped working. Hatred flowed through her body,the only thing that would allow her to retain any semblance of consciousness. Her body was beyond pain,something warm flowed down her cheeks;blood or tears. A choking sensation filled her throat as she felt the concrete underneath her break like Styrofoam.

Everything that had haunted her since she was young came in a deluge of pain. The looks of disappointment that her father had given with each test,how the soldiers became quiet when she entered the room and her the most efficient killer was outdone so easily. Now she was reduced to what seemed like a blind crying wreck on the street,eyes stinging from what seemed like blood running into them,yet she didn't really feel it. The flow of strength had begun to ebb until she was atlast too weak to even lift herself from the ground,awareness leaving her as quick as the strength had left her. Shayla could now only law on the ground reduced to a weak child that could barely support her own weight,with eyes that did not see. There were going to be side effects to the prototype boosting tech but was temporary blindness one of them?

”You're a natural at this.” A familiar voice spoke as if only to taunt her. It was the first thing her combat instructor had said when she had begun training in the arts of killing. That was the only time that she had truly smiled,when someone had actually told her she was good at something. There was a brief bittersweet mixture of pain and euphoria that swept through her chest and came as a choked sob from her throat before she fell unconscious.

by **Jack Maroon** December 27th 2012, 4:24 pm

It was a familiar sight. The street was eerily abandoned; it was littered with abandoned cars, whose owners either stood at a safe distance or had fled to further safety within the confines of nearby structures. While it was natural for crowds of spectators to gather during a metahuman brawl, Jack's reputation for destruction and collateral damage was enough to clear most of the area. Police sirens wailed in the distance, heralding the reluctant arrival of the knights in blue; a sound that contrasted with the car alarms going off at close proximity. Jack paid it no mind.

He stood victorious over the body of his opponent, crippled, bloodied and beaten. Yes, certainly a familiar sight. Yet there was an element of uncertainty about it, something that threw him off. This was where he was supposed to gloat, to laugh maniacally, or make some comment that made him look badass. None came to mind.
The proper course of action was to leave the premises now, leave the girl for the police. If they'd have the guts to approach him about it later he'd just give them his explanation. Really, all he did was defend himself. In essence. Sort of. Yeah.

He looked at the girl again. The warm glow of pride eluded him, and was replaced by a searing pity, seasoned with a smudge of guilt. She wasn't going to last long if left unattended. Maybe permanent damage either way. In no way was this his responsibility; she had come to him, to kill him. He had merely replied in kind, and given her a taste of her own medicine. Not his responsibility. Didn't even seem that nice a person; he'd certainly fought, and killed, nicer people. The sound of the sirens grew closer. Jack sighed, and uttered a few words under his breath, before finishing up here.

"You're an idiot, Jack. You sappy bastard."

When the police arrived, there was no one to be found. Eyewitnesses gave a detailed account of the battlle, a short but spectacular struggle between superpowered individuals. No evidence had been left save for the blood of the combatants, a few general cash checks left for the owners of cars and general structural damage caused and a pair of cracked mirrored aviator shades.

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One or two days later~

The girl would wake up in a king-sized luxury bed, with sheets of the finest velvet. Her wounds had been treated and bandaged. First Aid had been applied carefully and thoroughly, though by no means was it a medical masterpiece; it would still take some time to heal up properly. Her clothing had been removed, and replaced with one of Mr. Maroon's many white tees and a pair of boxer shorts; this was very likely to bring no small amount of distress to her, though objectively speaking it was the least of her worries. She was still in terrible shape.
The room she would find herself in was the master bedroom, decorated with numerous posters featuring characters of several videogames and anime shows. Most featured swords and fighting, though some were centered solely around the physical attractiveness of the female characters, and the power of Moe, though Reaper would likely lack the education to appreciate the latter. Harumph.

There was a strange smell in the air, one that would instill curiosity in its recipient, and breathe into her body the vitality needed to follow through on aforementioned curiosity. It was the smell of the perfect breakfast. The smell of an idyllic life; the way the world should be, but isn't. A reminder of Eden and a yearning to revisit Paradise.
On the floor below, her savior slash abductor had adorned himself with the chef's apron, both metaphorically and physically, and had taken it upon himself to bake some bacon pancakes, while singing an appropriate song. He wore simple slack jeans, a white tee and geta sandals underneath his apron, and had left his face open without sunglasses. Whether he was awaiting his guest slash captive and attempting to lure her with food, or was just hungry was open to interpretation. He himself preferred to believe the latter.

by **The Bolt** December 28th 2012, 5:48 pm

”Kill it.” The harsh female voice said with no room for any argument. Red eyes looked down upon what seemed like a simple female,tears streaking her cheeks as she looked up to the young albino. She was dressed in full Dominus armor formatted to fit her young body. Shayla knew that this was a meta human and that she was to kill her,there was no reason other than that she had to do it. Did she want to do it? Honestly Shayla did not know the answer to that question, all she knew was that the woman would speak kind things to her when she did good,when she pleased her. If killing this woman pleased her,that was all that mattered in the end. If it pleased daddy,it was all that she needed to know.

All that stood between her and this strange female was a simple glass window,yet it was tough enough even to take strikes from her fists. A metal door opened with a hiss as the harsh female voice once again demanded that she kill this young woman,not why she should. Turning around she saw the face of her father,that expression seeming to calm her. She could do this,it was what she was born to do. Stepping into the contained room,Reaper heard the door shut behind her as she still looked upon the woman with an uninterested expression as she clenched her fist tightly,knuckles growing even whiter. The woman looked confused by the child now standing in front of her with a look of power within her eyes. She had no idea what Shayla's purpose in this place was except that they had sent a child to her. Was this woman a meta human like the ones that she had heard about,ones that could even prove a threat to her?

How would she kill her? With a powerful blow to the face or snapping her neck with a swift motion,not giving her a second to react to it. Stepping a few inches towards the kneeling woman,Shayla scanned her with her powerful mind as if thinking over the many ways to kill her with little trouble from the woman. ”What do you want? Did they send you to make me talk?” The woman demanded with a voice filled with authority,one that held no baring within this small room of hell. This woman had no idea what she had gotten herself into,that she was face to face with a dealer of death that was commissioned to end her. ”Answer me dammit!” She also did not seem surprised that they had sent a young girl to do their dirty work. She knew Dominus more than most that they dragged in.

Without a single warning she threw a powerful punch towards the womans face without a second thought,her target was in motion as the muscles moved to allow the attack. She grabbed the wrist and twisted it until Shayla was forced to her knees,eyes now level with those cold orbs of hers. She had managed to bring her to her knees with little trouble,something that few of the others could do and those that did were dead not too long after something like that. ”So they sent you in here to kill me? How pathetic do they think I am?' Without even a retort her head snapped forward as it collided with the woman’s nose,blood splashing out as she howled in pain. The sound of something wooden fell against her ears,what seemed like a weapon thrown at her feet. Well it was only a good foot away but close enough. Reaching for the weapon she unsheathed it as the blade of energy extended.

Without a second of hesitation she rushed forward with an arc of the blade as the woman’s head was severed with a swing,blood splashing across her body. She had ended this woman’s life without a second thought and it felt amazing. The voices of the many people observing could be heard,all sounding impressed by how well she did and that made her smile in pride. Not that she let them see such a thing. ”You're a natural at this.” There was that voice,the last true compliment that she had heard.It would not be long now until she stopped evolving in the way of her physical abilities,until she would stop being the interest of the higher ups of the organization. That was when the residual pain pulled her from the deep sleep.

A sharp curse escaped through her lips as eyes shot open to what seemed like a strange room,one that she would never imagine herself walking up in. Each attempt to move was met with a searing pain through her limbs,teeth clenching as she still tried move from the bed. Then there was a wonderful smell,something that made her mouth water at the very smell of it. Someone was cooking and that drew upon a deep hunger within her,one that she had just noticed. So the man had decided to kidnap her? She could hear his pretentious voice singing and it almost made her want to vomit,then came the hunger twisting her insides.

In the end she was in a precarious situation and that was not something that she would really relish being in personally. Attempting to move into a sitting position,Shayla found that her limbs would not works as she wanted them to. In fact she knew that her body would not heal well for a while but she had to move. Dominus would not be pleased that Agent Reaper the great liability had failed in killing her target once again. Perhaps they would finally get rid of her like they should have done a long time ago. Hand clenching into a fist she waited for whatever to happen to happen.

by **Jack Maroon** January 1st 2013, 4:06 pm

Once the pancakes were finished, more than half of them disappeared within a blink of an eye. Making breakfast took a lot more time and effort than eating it, the speedster found. Sometimes he would take his time eating his meal, but that was only on special occasions. And while one could argue that this occasion was special due to the aberrant presence of his current guest and the nature of her stay here, the meal itself was nothing exceptional, and thus was consumed with haste.
The pancakes had been delicious. The tasty, tasty bacon added just the right amount of crispiness and divinity, making this yet another meal successfully prepared by Jack Maroon. In his retirement he had taken to trying out countless new hobbies, all in the theme of educating himself and attempting to live an ordinary life, or at least something vaguely resembling such a thing. He was glad that the fruits of his efforts, though not enough to fill the gaping void within his soul, had managed at least to fill the void within his stomach, and had not been for naught. He allowed himself a satisfied smile.

But what is happiness if one cannot share it with others? Well, still happiness, but just..not shared. Jack didn't bother to figure out the meaning behind the drive to share his happiness, and decided to act on it immediately. The only person around to share in his culinary success however, was his prisoner slash guest slash would-be assassin. Though he had nursed her over the last two days, giving her all the medical aid she needed, they weren't exactly the best of friends. Jack didn't take the attempts on his life too personally; plenty of people wanted him dead, for plenty of reasons. Still, the battle got pretty heated in the end. Lots of emotions and complicated stuff on both sides. Why had he even saved her in the first place, he wondered.
He had tried to convince himself that he did it just so he could have someone to practice his medical skills on, skills he had acquired through multiple first aid classes as a part of earlier mentioned plans of self-improvement and recreation. That wasn't really it, though.

Oh, Jack knew exactly why he saved her, why he took her with him. He just didn't want to admit it to himself. His newfound clarity of mind certainly had its drawbacks. While it certainly gave him a better perspective on things, and improved his intellectual wealth and mental health, it also forced him to confront himself with the many uncomfortable truths life threw at him.
This was just one of them: He took pity on her because she reminded him of himself, because she fought with such desperation when victory was far beyond her reach, and finally because, well...he was just lonely. He had genuinely enjoyed caring for her these two short days. It certainly wasn't a romantic, intellectual or even just a friendly connection, but it was something.
Having made up his mind, Jack headed up to his room, currently her room. He knocked twice, but entered before any answer could be given. Not like she had any say in the matter. His house, his rules.

Holding the plate-full of bacon pancakes in one hand, its scent gently wafting towards the girl, he stopped by her bedside. "Y'know, I've had a lotta ladies in my bedroom, but I gotta say this set-up's still new to me." He spoke with a relaxed tone, devoid of tension or animosity. It was almost kind, he thought, the way he sounded, though that wasn't his intention. Had it ever been?
He had grown a light stubble, which he thought looked pretty good. In the light, there was almost something saintlike about his face, despite the ruggedness of his looks.
"Got some bacon pancakes left. Thought you might want some." He added, after a short pause, in which he had sat himself down on a chair next to the bed, and put the plate on the bed.

by **The Bolt** January 4th 2013, 2:44 pm

The man entered the room in a strangely jovial mood,something that did not bode well with the albino. He even offered her food,something that slightly annoyed the young woman but at the same time brought up the hunger within her stomach. Would she turn down the offer or take it? To her it felt like nothing more than a bid of pity for a beaten animal,something that well summed up what she was. Reaper was nothing more than an animal that craved to kill and nothing else would satisfy that urge within her;the urge to tear people apart. Now there lay food only a few feet from her reach and the ravenous hunger tore at her self control,something she had little of anyway. Her lips curled into an approximation of a snarl as her hands reached for the bacon,the warms meat substance feeling good against her skin. She was not really sure what he had brought her but it was food,that was all that really mattered to her. She began to eat the food ravenously with no regard for the man who had captured her.

by **Jack Maroon** January 4th 2013, 3:24 pm

Jack fondly regarded the albino assassin eating his bacon pancakes, smiling warmly, an expression his face did not bear often. He knew she was eating it because she was nearly starving, and her body desperately needed the sustenance. Her expression, and the way she set herself on the meal could only be described as feral. He had seen that look before, while fighting her. Of course this was a little different, but it was there; that feeling of immaculate rage, aimlessly defiant. Fighting, no, killing, was probably all she knew, and all she found meaning in. Could she truly embrace a hearty meal, a drink with friends, a lover's embrace?
Probably not. And neither could he, to a lesser extent, hopefully. But he was trying, trying real hard.

And with at least some measure of success. He knew for a fact that his bacon pancakes were fucking delicious, and it made him happy to see someone else enjoy them. Even if that someone was a crazed psycho bitch who likely bore only thoughts of death and murder towards him.

"Ha. You are . a . natural . at this, babe." Jack said humorously. "Never seen someone eat my pancakes with that much gusto. Props to you girl." He said, clapping his hands a few times while reclining into his chair further. After a short silence however, his smile shrunk and a grim severity began to seep into his expression.

"Listen. No need for words, if that's what you choose. You're free to enjoy my house, its faculties, and my cooking as long as your recovery demands for it. Consider yourself a guest for the time being, but let one thing be fucking clear, alright?
You are not my unwilling guest. If you don't like it here, then you best crawl the fuck outta my humble abode back to your dog-masters, before I decide to finish what I started. I'm not your caretaker, not your warden, and certainly not your fucking boyfriend."
Jack rose from his chair, slapping his thighs while he let out a sigh.

"I'd love to say there's no bad blood between us, but that sentiment's not likely to be anything more than one-sided, is it?"

(OOC: Remember what I said about monologues earlier? I lied. Heehee. I fucken' love monologues. Word.)

by **The Bolt** January 4th 2013, 6:01 pm

The man only went on to confuse her even more,his tone far different than she remembered when he was so easily defeating her. Even that simple sentence seemed to strike a cord with her,hand freezing before one again placing food within her mouth,the taste better than most of the slop that Dominus gave her. Then his tone took a change, one that was unmistakeably grim. It drew a bitter smirk across her lips, as well as something to well up within her that nearly made her want to vomit the food she was eating. She did not expect his pity nor did she want it,in fact she would have been fine being left to die. Dominus was likely to have already been searching for her,so she was going to get herself out of here soon enough anyway. ”You should have. If you think beating me does anything for you,you are too damn stupid for your own good. Go ahead and kill me if that pleases you,in a few days you'll be dead yourself.” If Dominus sent someone like Gossamer or Etoile,they would reduce this guy to a bloody pulp;that much she knew.

by **Jack Maroon** January 5th 2013, 4:10 pm

Jack chuckled a little at what Reaper said, almost snorting. The girl really didn't seem to understand him. He had thought she perhaps shared some of his mentality, but most of the semblance ended at the fact both their lives had been aimed solely at battle; and even in that, they were different.
Jack wondered why she did what she did. Did she like it, was she forced to, was it all she knew? The latter seemed the most likely. She was focused and determined in the battle for the most part, but when pushed she showed how desperate she was to win; to kill.

"Yeah, right. Can't escape the Spanish Inquisition, can't we?
About that. I was wondering who the hell sent ya to kill me, and why?" Jack asked casually, grabbing a bacon pancake from her plate, one of the last few remaining. He ate the bacon pancake. Because bacon pancakes are delicious, if that wasn't obvious yet.

by **The Bolt** January 8th 2013, 5:21 pm

She ignored the man known as Jack Maroon,ignored him until finally he grew bored and left her alone. She had nothing left to say to him and soon enough she would escape the clutches of the man known as Jack Maroon and return to Dominus for whatever they would do to her,even if it were just a painful execution. Either way that was her home and if she were to die,she would take down their army with them and perhaps even make dear old dad feel that she was there deep within his precious pocketbook. Maroon had taken care enough of her and it seemed that indeed she would get better within a matter of days,or well enough to escape. Occasionally he would come in but there was no real conversation between them,she had nothing to say that would not tear away at the scab.

By the time that what seemed like our days passed she felt her strength had returned and that meant that she could finally escape,escape and make her way back like a dog with its tail between its legs. Slowly rolling out of the bed she removed the bandages that had been changed each day,letting them now fall to the ground as her skin was now just the site for puckered red scars. There was one window that she could escape through and that was where she would go,let Dominus remake her weapons for all she cared as long as she got out of here alive anyway. Making sure that her footsteps did not make a sound she slowly opened the door as she made her way stealthily through the window.

In a matter of seconds she had managed to escape with the man known as Jack Maroon behind her as far as she knew,cool wind upon her wounds that felt almost like pure bliss. Taking a stance she was off with an inhuman speed,though this only took her a few good blocks before her body began to protest,much unlike it when she was in top condition. She could have gone a day without feeling fatigue but now she could not. Her body was still weak and need proper Dominus medical treatment that Maroon could not offer her within his petty little abode,though why he even let her live was something strange within itself. Had he pitied her or was it something else entirely.

Pressing a single button on what remained upon her Dominus armor,Reaper called for a pick up. She fell against the wall of an alley and waited for the sweet sound of chopper blades and soon enough she heard them. For now she was safe and that alone was a relief.

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