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Mastermind: Chapter 2- The War
Chapter Two: The War
It seemed ages before Jen finally pried her eyelids open after the unfortunate incident. As all common sense would place it, she logically concluded having to awaken on the freezing concrete of the streets, or heavily bangaged in some hospital bed. Neither, it seemed, suited her prediction. Rather, her eyelids opened to introduce azure eyes to a watery surrounding, forcing those lids to push shut once again as she gasped for breath. Instinctively, she began to swim, up to the surface... if there was a surface... seemed there was as moments later she was breathing oxygen again, head lifted up to the sky. Chest rose and fell as she gasped at the air greedily before lowering her head and opening her eyes once more, moving in a swim toward the edge of her newly found waterbed. Exhaustedly did she lift herself out of the liquid, standing on shaky legs as eyes lifted to her surroundings for the first time...
And Jen stood, jawdropped, head craning this way and that as wet strands of hair clinged to her cheeks and neck, arms held out at her sides for balance. This sure as Hell was no New York, and just the skyline proved it. Well, sure the buildings were high! But if New York ever constructed their buildings in the strangest of shapes, some of which looked as if they would never withstand the slightest tap, she sure had missed them. Not to mention, last she'd known, buildings were constructed of metal and concrete; on the contrary, these seemed to be walled with latex, and if not the like, some other flexible coloured plastic. Eyes lifted to scan about the skylines before falling toward the ground, right hand lifting to her mouth, pressing firmly against the like as heartbeat rose significantly in her chest.
What had happened? What the hell was this place? It all seemed too horrible, like a scene pulled right out of a science-fiction movie. But it was all real, and her aching head and the scrapes on her shoulderblades from the accident proved her correct.
The accident! Hand moved from her mouth to push back at her drying bangs, fingers clenching around them as she stared down to the ground. Mother had to be worried... and poor Keisuke had to see the whole incident happen right before him. Eyes lifted from the ground out to the ground's horizon stretched out before her as her hand fell from her hair, landing with a thud against her leg. No use in standing here drenched from head to toe.
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Finding a building that looked halfway trustable was a chore in itself. There was no way in hell, and this Jen had sworn to herself, that she was about to put her trust into one of those colourful buildings. It just didn't seem right. She was lucky enough, at least, to find one that looked a bit more... homely. More familiar. At least on the outside. Jen was just one of those people unfortunate enough to turn up in all the wrong places.
It was possibly as horrible and grotesque as one of the late-night bloodbars scattered around the streets of Vegas, the citygoers of the wrong crowd filling the once clean air with the potent odor of sex and cheap illegal drugs. Jen barely lifted her head to the activities, keeping her arms wrapped tight to her chest, wrinkling the horizontal blue and white stripes of the garment beneath. Eyes fell down toward the ground as she pushed, silently, through the grown crowds, making her way to an empty booth, where she slid to a seat... surely it'd be a haven until she figured out what to do with herself.
Of course, with her blond hair and girlish figure, it was clear she would stick out like a sore thumb. It was only a matter of time before they noticed her.
"Dameon..."
"I have to say, you were right about the Mai-Tai..."
"Dameon!"
"Yes, dammit! I'm listening!"
"Over there..."
"Where?"
"There."
"Who? The newbie-looking one?"
"Is there anyone else?"
"Jesus, Hikaru, I dunno... I mean, we've already killed five today... don't we deserve a break?"
The female, an obvious Asian in descent, whipped her head over her shoulder to stare to her companion with stone-cold black eyes, lips forming an almost perfectly straight crimson line, if not for their curvature downward, barely parting, even as she spoke.
"Dameon... do you want Dain and his League of Bastards to win this damned thing?"
The male, a tall, stocky guy with a flop of brown hair hanging forward over his right eye, gave a hurried shake of his head, hands lifting to his sides.
"N-never!"
"Are you sure?"
"Duh, I'm sure!"
"'Cause you might as well just go and join their cause..."
"I said I'm sure, dammit!" Hurriedly did he get to his feet, knocking the table resting solemnly before the two of them in his hurry, pushing past his companion out to the open floor of the building.
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Jen lifted her eyes only upon the approaching of a stranger to her side. He was tall, perhaps well over six foot, and looked to be the typical stereotype of a man. She sunk uneasily to a curl in her seat, adverting her eyes once again, only to have her attention drawn back up toward him as he spoke.
"Got a minute?" Jen managed to stifle a cringe as azure orbs lifted to meet with his russet eyes-- more like eye; only the left one seemed to actually see her, if there was indeed a right hidden beneath a mass of mahogany hair. Unsure how else to respond, Jen let her head fall in a nod as she stared up toward him, standing uneasily to her feet, hands clenched before her. The stranger extended a well-tanned hand out toward her, staring down to her with a smirk plastered to his face.
"Dameon Lasser..." Jen uneasily unclamped her hands, placing one inside his for a friendly handshake.
"J--Jennifer Kvalko."
"Jenny, eh?" Dameon leaned down to Jen's height, wrapping a thick arm around her shoulders. "Now, just listen for a min, Jenny..."
Despite the horrid nickname she'd aquired and the uncomfort of another's arm around her neck, Jen just listened with a nod of her head, almost afraid to say anything, for fear of saying, perhaps, the wrong thing. Dameon merely took her silence as a cue to keep talking.
"Y'see, my comrade Hikaru back there thinks you're some big, evil, supervillan and all that happy crap like that... so how's about you an' me head on over there and tell 'er off, hn?" He looked almost hopeful, staring into her widened eyes. Jen stood, dumbfounded, staring back at him, before giving a shake of her head.
"What?"
"You aren't with Black Thunder, are you?"
"Who?" Azure eyes began to shift about uneasily as she felt her need to worry increase. She'd've been out the door if not for that strong wrap around her neck. She couldn't help but wonder how many times he'd done this before; certainly seemed experianced.
"You don't know about Black Thunder..."
"I... uh..." Eyes hurried back and forth between the stranger and the doorway so far away, hoping perhaps he'd get the hint and walk away. Didn't seem as if he and she were on the same level.
"You uh?"
"I--I'm sorry, but I have to be going..." She managed to lift one hand, moving it to leave a gentle pat to his shoulder. Perhaps that'd get him to leave.
Indeed it did. Arm withdrew from around her shoulder, its hand resting against its corresponding hip. "By all means!" Opposite arm lifted in an invitation for her to exit the building, an invitation she made no haste in accepting, hurrying toward the door and pushing out.
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The moment she set foot outside that horrid building, Jen took in a breath, holding hands to the still damp material of her sundress, head turning this way and that before crossing the street hurriedly and starting down along one sidewalk. Head lifted to the skyline as she slid mindlessly across the streets. Before the voice.
"You! There!" Jen allowed her head to lift and crane over her shoulder to look toward the shouter.
He looked rather young, perhaps no older than thirty, obviously bleached blonde once-black hair falling in neat waves around his face, violet vest wrinkled, yet snugly fit over a shirt of black, its end an obvious cue for his pants of the same colour to begin. "Stop a moment!" He sped to Jen's side, pushing the younger up against the nearest wall. She gave a squeal outloud, holding her hands toward her face, limiting her senses by one.
"You've been sighted climbing out of the River of Praysiar, an illegal business." Jen managed to pry her fingers open, staring toward him curiously. The stranger stared back, nearly as confused as she.
"Where the hell are you from? Name your supervising planet and colony."
That really got to her... hands fell altogether as she gave a shake of her head, searching for the words. "I---" Supervising planet? She let out the only thing that made sense. "Earth?"
She must've just said something entirely wrong, for the stranger's eyes widened significanly and he took a step backward.
"You lie! You're a liar!" Right hand swung upward, fingers locking around Jen's slender neck, pushing her backward more against that wall. "Answer again, no more joking around!" Jen managed to turn her face from his, kicking to get away. Joking around? But...? Her eyes fell to a clamp shut as she let her head bow downward, quivering up against that wall.
Those shut eyes brought forth a wild imagination of the occurances after. The grasp to her neck was suddenly gone as a sickening crunch and ear-piercing scream rang out. Against the odds, one eyelid managed to pry itself open as she searched about for her attacker.
There, face contorted to a grimace of pain, was her attacker, pinned to the ground by what seemed to be the weights of a rather large dumbbell; her savior: Dameon Lasser himself, sporting a rather large grin strengthening his already-strong mischevious facial features.
"You just never learn, do you Hukuda?" A chuckle as that heavy metal twisted further into the enemy's arm, causing the latter to let out a second scream. "Dain always sends you out on patrol... and WE always end up kickin' your ass!" A push to the enemy's shoulder before pulling the makeshift weapon away, allowing the injured to scuttle to his feet.
"And, as always, Dain's going to hear about this..." A glare and a frown from the injured as he moved his good hand to his waist, snapping the removal of a portable mock-walkie-talkie radio from the thick belt wrapped around the former and pulling the latter up toward his mouth. Jen forced her second eye open and her head to a crane toward the scene as the injured muttered words of backup into the object. Dameon merely laughed at the enemy's attempts.
"I've beaten you before, I'll do it again, Hukuda..."
"You'll see... Dain'll be here in a matter of moments... this isn't going to be like last time..." The one known as Hukuda lifted his hand toward his injured shoulder, sulking back from Dameon noticably.
Dameon laughed outloud, lifting the heavy weight up in the air like a sword, preparing to strike again.
Jen managed to push her way back against that wall once more, hands shaking in fear.
And then the scene erupted into smoke.
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