actual tsundere chrysos kineas (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
devotedtothecore) wrote2012-07-14 02:24 am
devotedtothecore) wrote2012-07-14 02:24 amEntry tags:
BACKTHREAD POST
All the backthreading goes here!!
devotedtothecore) wrote2012-07-14 02:24 am
Re: Day 8_(?), a late evening
It just goes to show that, as the prostrate body jerks and goes still, Lenalee's primary concern will never be the weapon trained on her. She's been held at gunpoint before. Often by creatures far less forgiveable than another human. She lurches at the ragged voice, seeking out identifiable features in the dim light cast from inside.]
What's— stop!
[She's flying down the branch in an instant— 'flying', of course, not quite as literal a term now as it once might have been— and she really isn't even all that sure of what she means to do once she gets to them (if she gets to them), but it's true. There are some things your body will always be prepared to do, with or without your consent.]
Let them go! Chrys?
Re: Day 8_(?), a late evening
---stay BACK!!
[ you've never heard a scream like that wrenched from his throat before, desperation and terror from the very depths of a soul--- head jerks up and manic blue eyes meet hers as his finger tightens on the trigger to the barrel already aiming for her heart--- ]
Re: Day 8_(?), a late evening
---metal hand lets go--- ]
Re: Day 8_(?), a late evening
[ ---the knee on Ptou's gut lifts and twists aside and the heel slams between the body and the bark and that hand digs into a shoulder and the other foot braced on the ground he twists his own body and with all his might shoves ]
the body
over the edge
and
still turning, feet kicking off the branch, he springs
after it, into the dark. ]
Re: Day 8_(?), a late evening
No!
[The last few feet to where they'd been are recklessly quick, and she very nearly throws herself after them. Then she remembers (oh), and skids to a halt, staring wildly into the dark, panting.]
CHRYS!
Re: Day 8_(?), a late evening
Now there's anger (not necessarily at him), as well as pain, in her voice, too.]
Don't hurt him, don't you dare hurt him!
Re: Day 8_(?), a late evening
No, this is...
Re: Day 8_(?), a late evening
the weightlessness of freefall.
Feeling the tilt, further, gravity pointing his head groundwards.
(let the gun go)
--heartbeat--
and his empty hands snap out, grab the body in the air, pull it flush against his. Arms locking it there. Closes his eyes
(to see)
--heartbeat--
their falling trajectory 280 degrees (not quite straight down, no, not yet), next platform (branch, two feet thick, a hard knob jutting upwards) in their way in 2.1 seconds
(not enough time to right yourself)
---heartbeat---
Minor obstacles in path. Add 0.2 seconds. Add 1 degree more.
Force will penetrate. Brace. Discount otherwise for the next part
(matters/hurts more)
----heartbeat---- ]
[ Lenalee can hear the crashing through foliage, sounds of snapping and breaking and the odd sickening crack and thump in between, all too quickly fading into the pitch-black depths below-- and all around her, already roused by raised voices, things rustle and scatter and shift in the night jungle. ]
Re: Day 8_(?), a late evening
[She's lost them. Lenalee scrambles for the edge of the branch— the bark rough on her palms and shins— and leans over, but sees nothing. Just darkness and the faint gleam of light reflecting off leaves. Within moments, she can't hear them anymore, either.
There's no way she can follow. She isn't fast enough or strong enough, can't risk getting caught by some nocturnal creature— what direction did they even go in? Gritting her teeth, she straightens up and looks back towards HQ, feeling oddly hollow.
(Why can't she ever do anything?)]
Re: Day 8_(?), a late evening
the glass doors to HQ are swung shut, lights still illuminating the empty common area. Though perhaps not for long, given the shouting bare moments (seconds? a minute?) ago. ]
Re: Day 8_(?), a late evening
>scrabble her way back up to the HQ for reinforcements!]