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| First Impressions | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Feb 7 2010, 10:01 PM (154 Views) | |
| Shoar Morika | Feb 7 2010, 10:01 PM Post #1 |
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There was a beeping sound that kept repeating itself in her mind, slowly driving her insane with the noise. She could feel herself slowly rising up from under the blanket of unconsciousness, but she could not even begin to imagine how she had come to be unconscious in the first place. Her body felt sluggish and unusually tired as she rested against something that was stiff, neutral, and not exactly the softness she would have preferred. Slowly, very slowly, her eyes managed to blink open, her pale jade eyes glancing at the vaulted ceiling of the room she was in. The cell she had remained in for days, or maybe weeks, did not have a high ceiling. And, she did not feel the cold, damp stone under the skin of her body. No, this room felt warmer, smelled cleaner. Where the hell did she end up? A bright light flashed in front of her eyes, and she reacted instantly. Her head shifted to the side, her eyes closing as her body stiffened. The beeping sound intensified, speeding up almost like it was reading her pulse. A hand grabbed her arm gently, but firmly, holding her down in place. The light was removed, and she saw a man standing over her. She had never seen this man before, and she was beginning to wonder how much she had had to drink. Then she remembered that she had not had a drink in some time, not since she had been captured. How, then, was a man standing over her? What had happened after the last round of gunfire? It took her another set of moments to realize that the man was speaking to her, asking her questions, but she was not hearing the words. She must have expressed the confusion on her face because he gently touched her chin, tilting her head to the side to look at the injuries she had sustained. She hissed slightly in pain as he carefully removed the bandage that had been applied to the side of her face. For a moment he did not move, simply observing the injury before the wound was cleaned and rebandaged. She felt her heart starting to race again as his hand grasped her wrist, her fingers pressed against the vein while he counted under his breath. Then, as suddenly as he had come, he was gone, leaving her alone on the bed while she struggled to grasp her bearings and make sense of what had happened. A few moments later, another person entered, and her eyes shifted to the object that was held in the woman’s hand. The woman was explaining something, and Shoar heard the words this time, though they sounded distance and jumbled. But, she had caught the gist of the explanation. It was going to be something that would calm her down so that she did not further injure herself, but Shoar had already reacted. If there was something she did not like, it was feeling trapped, and that was clearly the intention she thought she saw in the actions of the woman. The drug was going to be used to keep her calm, sedated, and lethargic, and Shoar did not like feeling like a trapped prisoner. The man was saying something to her, but she was not hearing the words as she grabbed the woman’s wrist, applying enough pressure that the needle slipped from her fingers and hit the ground. The numerous machines she realized she was hooked up too only made the situation worse as she tore cords off of her skin, pulling the IV needle from her hand. She slipped from the bed before the man gathered the nerve to move, her body stiff and seemingly ready to break as she watched, her eyes darkening. Only then did she manage to find her voice again, the shouts hoarse as she made her message very clear. “Stay the fuck away from me! Don’t touch me!” Her body was trembling uncontrollably, and she realized that she was not dressed in the clothing she remembered being in when she had been discovered. Her pants and shirt and boots were gone, replaced by a simple, white, cotton hospital gown. Someone had even undressed her without her permission, and that meant that they had seen the scars that decorated her back. The man stepped closer to her, and she screamed, pushing one of the heavy machines to the ground. Sparks flew up from the damaged piece of equipment as she backed away, for the first time noticing that the man and woman stood between her and the doorway of the room. She was truly trapped, and she did not like the feeling. “Miss, please, you need to calm down. You’ve sustained some serious injuries.” Shoar was not sure what the woman was talking about. She had taken far worse beatings before in her life. What made this beating worse than the others? She felt her breathing becoming shallow as pain slowly drifted up from her ribs. She should have known better. She knew that there was a possibility that she had some broken or cracked ribs. She tried to slow her breathing as she backed away from the man who was slowly starting to approach her again, the woman only a few steps behind him. He was speaking in calmer tones, trying to get her to relax, but it was as though he did not know who she was, or what she was capable of. Her eyes spotted something sharp and metallic sitting near one of the beds closer to her, and she slowly started making her way toward it. The man’s eyes followed her path, and he shifted faster, trying to stop her from reaching the object. Inadvertantly, he had initiated the attack. Her fist crashed into the side of his face, and she heard the sickening popping sound of cartilage and bone snapping into pieces as she grasped the weapon. The books she had read as a child told her that the item she was holding was a piece of medical equipment, a scalpel. She held it in front of her, her eyes watching the woman. “Back off.” The woman stopped, but Shoar did not see that the man had moved away from her, pressing a button that was on the wall. Her full attention was on the woman, and the newly replaced needle she had in her hand. “Who the hell are you? Huh? Don’t you think I had enough already?” She could not hold back the anxiety and paranoia as she lunged forward, her movements, despite her condition, were fluid and swift. She was an assassin, after all. She knocked the woman to the ground, shifting the instrument in her hand as she readied herself to bring it down. Yes, she felt the pain of her injuries. Yes, she thrived on it. This was purely survival. She had to overcome the obstacle if she wanted to survive. Years of killing others and running from bounties had taught her that. What she did not hear was the footsteps entering the room belonging to soldiers that the man had called in to help with the situation. |
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| Craig Sutherland | Feb 7 2010, 10:21 PM Post #2 |
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Craig lay in his bunk, he had only just awoken from his sleep and now lay fairly comfortably looking at the roof from his pallet. It had been four day's since Lucia, and it would be a week before the first recon mission would be sent back to lucia to find and relay any information of the Am'idra and his fleet. High command was fairly scared of this new goa'uld, the Tau'ri had no contact since Ba'al's execution except for some jaffa on another world, they could be connected but what ever could build Ha'tak vessel's in secret was worth checking out before the Free Jaffa did, perhaps there was something to be found. He finally sighed as he pulled himself out of his pallet and out from beneath the thick military grade cover, standing up in his track suit he picked up a sleevless shirt and pulled it over his head, it was tight across his muscular frame and showed clearly his regimental tatoo of the 15th squadron of his original regiment, but also the clear wound in his right shoulder recieved on his first tour of duty. He looked behind him at the wall, for a moment for some reason he thought of Ghost, he had been sent back to Earth after he disobeyed Order's, he missed him he disliked the yank's breaking up his team and now he would have to accept some other arse hole in his command, and that he was not looking forward too. An Alarm rang suddenly, and craig reacted instantly, grabbing his M9 from it's holster on the table he quickly opened the metal door and rushed through the hall's of the Alpha base. He wasn't ready for this too early in the morning, but still he would make his way to the command centre to see what was happening, or he thought he would before one of the female doctor's knocked into him. Surprised he stopped her from going straight through him as he spoke "Lass, where ye goin in such a hurry?" the women was clearly frightened, and craig's face turned to one of seriousness as she simply pointed to the infirmary. Craig pushed her aside lightly as he prepared his pistol and moved toward the double set door's of the infirmary complex. As he entered, he entered into a large hall with many door's leading to other room's, this was a military staging point for operations into other world's and had a company sized medical facility, and he instinctivly moved toward the open door at the other end of the hall. He slowed, his weapon raised as he peered around the corner to see the women from Lucia atop another female doctor, a nurse in the corner clearly in shock, and then craig saw the problem. The women held a surgical needle ready to kill the doctor whom was struggling hard. He rounded the corner, moving quickly he dropped his weapon as he kicked the needle from the women's hand and grabbed her before literally picking her up and throwing her back onto the bed, and somehow it knocked her uncouncious.... Some hour's later, Craig stood in full uniform, his M9 at his side with an M4 carbine stacked in the corner of the cubical. He watched the doctor plant the new IV, and then he watched as the women's eye's opened slowly again and quickly spoke before the doctor could "Awake I see, now you try that shit again, and I will hit you again, your choice. Play nice to the people that saved your life." |
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<DIV id="scroll3" style="width:350; height:120; overflow:auto; background-color: 000000; color: gray"><div align=left><center> .::Personnel Information::. Name: Craig Sutherland Call sign: "Gunner" Age: 37 Gender: Male Alliance: Earth, Tau'ri, England Race: Human, scottish decent Rank: Captain .::Weapons::. HK 416 -Picatanny Rail -Shotgun Mount -Laser Designator -Silencer -Red dot reflex sight -Telescopic Sight M9 Pistol .::Personnel::. 8 SAS Soldiers, armed with assortment of weapons depending on the mission. 60 RAF Regimental Soldiers, armed with L85 Enfield Assault rifle and susat sights. .::Equipment::. 4 Mortars with 80mm explosive rounds 2 Javelin Launchers </center> </div></DIV> | |
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| Shoar Morika | Feb 8 2010, 03:41 AM Post #3 |
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The female doctor was squirming, struggling to keep a firm hold on Shoar’s wrist. Shoar could see the fear in the woman’s eyes, but she did notice another emotion. There was no anger underlying the woman’s fear. If Shoar was thinking correctly, and coherently, it was as though the doctor understood the situation Shoar was in, and was trying to simply dislodge the weapon from her hand. She was using no more than necessary force, but at the same time trying to make sure that she was not harmed in the process. It was enough to make Shoar hesitate, and she rarely ever hesitated. And that hesitation had come with a price. She noticed the change in the woman’s look too late before someone kicked the instrument out of her hand. Arms wrapped around her, ignoring the fact that she was squirming, as he picked her, throwing her down on the bed. Her head hit the metal framework hard enough for her vision to swim. She did not attempt to sit up as she felt her consciousness slowly begin to fade. The last thing she felt was a hand turning her head to the side to look at what new damage had been done. It was a few hours later when her eyes slowly opened up again. The same doctor was setting up a new IV in her arm, the woman’s face and eyes holding very little emotion. The woman looked ready to speak, but someone stopped her, a voice that Shoar remembered hearing before. Her gaze shifted so that she was looking the man speaking. He was taller than her, considering she was rather petite. He was muscular, his hair cut short. She did not recall seeing this man before, but the voice was so familiar. It took her a moment to realize where she heard it from – the other soldier’s talking device. [“Awake, I see. Now you try that shit again, and I will hit you again, your choice. Play nice to the people that saved your life.”] A blank expression passed over her features as she watched him. Had her injuries been that extensive that her very life had been hanging by a thread? The doctor was giving him a sour look, and Shoar could not understand why she would be upset with this soldier rather than with her. The doctor’s calm eyes turned back to her for a moment before she looked at the monitors. Only then did Shoar realize that the beeping sound was still there. Once she seemed satisfied, the woman left her side, picking up something else and making a few lines with a pencil. Shoar only watched her, her jade eyes fogged with exhaustion. The doctor did not let her get off easily, however, as she returned her gaze to Shoar, her eyes holding a very leveled warning. “There will be no more hitting, Captain. I can’t afford to have command jump down my throat because you endangered her life.” Shoar blinked, confused. She was wise enough to remain silent as she watched the doctor put her hands on her hips, the look never once fading in intensity. “But, he is right. You should be thankful. I don’t think you would have survived down there if they hadn’t had found you. You must have been there for weeks, judging from the fractures. It’s remarkable you didn’t die sooner.” She paused, almost as though she was waiting for Shoar to say something. When she did not speak, the doctor continued. “It’s apparent you have never been in a hospital before, so I’ll keep this short. You stay in that bed and you do what I say, or I can make this a nightmare. They didn’t make restraints just for decoration. As for the nurse, his nose and cheek will heal in time. You’re lucky he didn’t sustain any further injury.” Again, she paused, expecting Shoar to say something, to apologize, but she made no effort to speak a word. The doctor’s features softened as she took a deep breath, running her fingers through her blonde hair. She quickly explained the machines Shoar was hooked up to, telling her that if something happened that would endanger her life further, the alarm would go off. It was a pretty clear warning that if Shoar attempted to leave the bed and remove the attachments, the alarm would sound off. Before the doctor left, she gave Sutherland a stern look, a warning look, before she stepped from the room, leaving them alone. The silence that passed between them was long as she sat there, hands in her lap. She had no clue where she was, but she remembered be told that the soldier was Tau’ri, whatever that meant. “Are you the new guard?” There was a hint of mockery in her voice, but it was subtle, veiled only by the fatigue that laced into her words. Her jade eyes glanced toward him, her lips pressed lightly together. “I’ve taken down men bigger and tougher than you. Don’t think I’ll let you push me around like some brainless ragdoll.” She listened the beeping of the machines, almost unnerved by the sound. She knew that her discomfort was spreading across her features, making him aware of the fact that she did not like being where she was. She felt like a prisoner, but at least the prison was not a small cell where she was held in between forced cage fights. At least this prison was trying to help her, not destroy her. Her fingers shakily threaded through her hair. She felt so weak, so unnervingly weak, that she was almost scared of it. She had only felt this way once before in her life, and that was when she had been pregnant with her daughter. Her voice was soft as she spoke again, her gaze having dropped to her hands. She did not have the energy to fight at the moment, but she got the vague impression that she would have many opportunities for that once she was out of this room. “What is it that you want from me? You can’t tell me that you took pity on my condition, and that, out of the goodness of your heart, you brought me here to get cured. You have some other kind of agenda. Your kind of men always do.” |
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| Craig Sutherland | Feb 11 2010, 09:26 PM Post #4 |
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Craig brushed off the word's of the doctor as he looked down at the young women who had now an extra bang to add to the previous collection obtained in her fall, he distinctly did not trust the girl to be good and would not move from this spot until he was sure she would not try to kill another man or women on the base. He looked at her as she looked about the room, the doctor speaking to her explaining the situation, he noted how she did not look afraid, she still had anger filling her and she made a point of not even making an effort to speak to the doctor as the young women in the white coat left the room. He watched her leave, before his gaze returned to that of the injured women on the bed as he suddenly felt the harsh wipe of her tongue as she sarcasticly spoke “Are you the new guard?” His eye brow raised, a slight smile came to his face more from amusement than anything as she continued “I’ve taken down men bigger and tougher than you. Don’t think I’ll let you push me around like some brainless ragdoll.” The smile didn't leave his lip's as he moved to pull a stool from near the doorway closer to the bed so he could sit whilst tolerating the women's word's, he had to admit though even this was an upgrade from the duties of being an officer on the base, pen pushing explaining why this women was even on the base. His eye's glanced back over toward her as she threaded her weak finger's through her hair, then suddenly her eye's darted back on him as she spoke this time without even a hint of mockery, her voice was a veil of anger but it was a calm anger “What is it that you want from me? You can’t tell me that you took pity on my condition, and that, out of the goodness of your heart, you brought me here to get cured. You have some other kind of agenda. Your kind of men always do.” He looked at her a moment, most men would have been shocked and even surprised by that comment though he simply looked at her, all amusement had left his expression as his serious eye's looked at her. It reminded him of his time in Sangin.... Craig looked out from the between the thin sun dried curtain's of the small mud brick house nestled on the edge of the river in Sangin, they had been stuck in her for near a full day unable to move because of the Taliban presence and even now as he surveyed the scene on the street the enemy remained plentiful. Their mission to strike a convoy of Taliban leader's moving through this position to their stronghold further east had been interupted as the target moved through with a battalion, make shift armoured transport's carried them as men wearing turbans to hide their face's moved along the street baring the german made G36 series weapon's. It was nearly a full three month's since the attack on the yank's, and now four day's into their operation Craig wondered why exactly they where fighting a yank cause, though at the end of the day there was nought they could do but follow order's. He moved away from the window, leaving the sun dried curtain's to fall back into place as he looked back at his men. 'Eagle' stood firmly alongside 'Ghost' as they leaned against the wall both enjoying the luxury of a cigarette, 'TC' on the other hand was sitting in a chair cleaning and making sure that his short L85 Carbine was in working condition, the only real activity any of them had here as they waited for an informant. They all wore thin robe's in an attempt to fit in with the local's, their beard's had been let grow rough and they all had turbans though neglected to wear them whilst in here, Craig sat for a moment as he looked over at his M4 Carbine fitted with a silencer and M203, another day or two and they would have to make it out with the cover of night, the air force would become impatient and right now an airstrike seemed the only mean's of taking these bastard's out. A sudden scream caught his attention and he quickly stood and peaked through the gap in the curtain's, he struggled to see for a moment as ghost asked hastily what was going on. Craig parted the curtain slightly, to see several Taliban around a women wearing a blue garb which covered her from head to toe. The Informant. The armed men ripped the scarf from the women, to reveal the heavily tanned complexion of a latin american women, an undercover agent stationed her to obtain information on behalf of the united state's. He quickly grabbed his Carbine as he pointed to TC then too the window, the man quickly grabbed his L85 and moved to the window as Craig led the other two down the stair's and too the door. He paused for a moment before speaking "We move out, take out the enemy and retrieve the informant, we then get out of this damn place got it!" The other's nodded, he didn't know why he was doing it but he knew their cover would be blown by sundown. He kicked the door through, firing several round's downing two of the enemies leaving them little time to react before a few well placed shot's took out another few enemy men. The other two took up defencive position's as Craig rushed the young women, blood ran from her eye's as he observed how they had cut out her eye's, he laid down his weapon as he went to hold her arm only for her to react and push him before scrambling back shouting "No! You will not have me! You won't!" The women quickly drew a small knife, and slashed herself across the throat leaving Craig stunned before gunfire began to overwhelm him.... Craig turned his attention back to the women on the bed, he licked his lip's slightly before he leaned in and whispered to her If I had even concieved the thought, you would not be laying her now on an IV drip, you would be dead. Now i would suggest that you, do not accuse me of such act's again understand?" He didn't give her a chance to reply before he stood, a slight smile coming to his lip's as he spoke again "You have a fiery temper, rest up and heal, then we can see what you can do, give you the chance you quite obviously want to 'teach me a lesson'" |
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<DIV id="scroll3" style="width:350; height:120; overflow:auto; background-color: 000000; color: gray"><div align=left><center> .::Personnel Information::. Name: Craig Sutherland Call sign: "Gunner" Age: 37 Gender: Male Alliance: Earth, Tau'ri, England Race: Human, scottish decent Rank: Captain .::Weapons::. HK 416 -Picatanny Rail -Shotgun Mount -Laser Designator -Silencer -Red dot reflex sight -Telescopic Sight M9 Pistol .::Personnel::. 8 SAS Soldiers, armed with assortment of weapons depending on the mission. 60 RAF Regimental Soldiers, armed with L85 Enfield Assault rifle and susat sights. .::Equipment::. 4 Mortars with 80mm explosive rounds 2 Javelin Launchers </center> </div></DIV> | |
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| Shoar Morika | Feb 13 2010, 02:01 AM Post #5 |
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The man’s eyes seemed distant as he watched her, or, rather, watched through her. She had seen looks like that before. He was seeing a memory, a vision of the past that was holding his attention. She was not entirely sure of what caused the memory, but she had a good idea that it might have been. Her insinuation had not been subtle, by any means. Show knew of her reputation in certain parts of the galaxy. The word “whore” was the polite form for the others names and phrases men had used for her, but she was not the one to just give in unwillingly. She had made it clear in her life that she was the one who set the rules. She had stopped allowing others to put her in her place simply because they wanted to. It was the reason she had become a hired killer. She made her own rules, lived by her own honor code. She only had to uphold a certain set of agreements, terms that she had had a hand in creating, in order to get paid. She dropped her gaze for a moment, glancing back toward him only when he shifted closer to her, his words coming out as a whisper. [“If I had even conceived the thought, you would not be laying here now on an IV drip, you would be dead. Now, I would suggest that you do not accuse me of such acts again, understand?”] She slowly realized that she had struck a nerve, a very deep, very serious nerve. Her lips pressed together, but she could not find the words to say anything. Usually she had a retort, a smart remark that would cut across the air and into the person she was talking to. But, now, she could not think of anything. She was not sure if it had something to do with the IV drip and drugs, or if, in her heart, she truly had nothing to say, but she remained silent, watching with pale jade-colored eyes. By the time she managed to find her voice, he prevented her from speaking, interrupting her thoughts as he rose to his feet, a slight smile crossing his lips. [“You have a fiery temper. Rest up and heal, then we can see what you can do, give you the chance you quite obviously want to ‘teach me a lesson.’”] She knew that her eyes said everything for her. He had initiated the challenge, and Shoar would be damned if she would back down from a challenge. Again, she was prevented from making a remark when the doctor walked back in, moving swiftly around Sutherland to inject something into the IV tube. She gave the doctor a look, glassed over by a slight amount of confusion. The doctor gave her a small smile before gently pushing her back down on the bed. Shoar did not resist as her head rested on the pillow, her eyes closing. ----- “And this is the training facility. Everything you need will be in here, except, of course, anything that resembles a weapon. Command said no weapons for you until you’ve been assessed.” The young soldier closed his mouth, his eyes failing to meet hers. She had had the same thing over and over again – no weapons, can’t go in there, off limits, restricted. She was far from unintelligent, and she knew that she had seen things that even these humans were not aware of. But, she was forced to remain silent, confined to only a few areas, namely the room she had been given and the mess hall where she took her meals. Anywhere else was off limits, unless she was accompanied by someone. Even then, most areas were still off limits to her. What angered her the most, however, was the fact that she was completely, and utterly, denied to have any of her belongings back. She was given some clothes the doctor had bought for her, but no weapons, nothing that belonged to her before she was rescued. Just clothes and, oddly enough, books. Before the books had arrived, Shoar had spent the time she was not at one of the scheduled meals, sitting in a corner of the room, listening to the sounds of soldiers training. She purposely kept as far away from the door as she could. It allowed her to keep an eye on everything and everyone entering the small room she occupied, and it allowed her to retaliate if she felt someone was encroaching on her newfound territory. Very few were brave enough to open the door, even fewer to actually step inside of the room. Once the books arrived, she had found herself returning to a childhood passion, reading anything and everything that they gave her. Some of the books were fiction, probably read for pleasure, but other books were owner’s manuals and textbooks, books that provided her with knowledge. Of course, she was afraid the books would be taken away from her, much like her father had done when he started noticing that she was reading. She memorized everything that she could, just in case. Plus, it had only been a few days ago that the doctor had cleared her, so that she was able to do more than just sit around and read or eat one of the three scheduled meals. “I think I’ll survive if you leave.” The soldier looked at her, but still refused to meet her gaze. She knew that her request would be denied. Apparently, she was considered a threat. Despite the fact that she had no weapons, nothing on her person that could be considered a weapon, she was still dangerous. She knew that the seed had been planted when she had broken the nurse’s nose and cheek. The threat had blossomed when she had managed to repeat the exact layout of the complex, including every room she had passed by, gone into, and even what she had seen through windows. She was not sure if they had decided how much of a threat she was, but ever since that incident, she was never allowed to be alone. The soldier gave a shake of his head. “I’m not allowed to do that. You know what command said. You have to be with someone, at all times.” Shoar’s lips pressed tightly together as she moved away, pushing through the door. There were a few soldiers already in the room, a few of whom had stopped their workouts to watch as she moved past them toward a spot in the back. Apparently, she had already gained a certain type of reputation, and she did not like the stares she was receiving. Or maybe, they were staring at what she was wearing. The shorts were snug, and the shirt was snug. By no means was she a soft, pudgy woman. No, she was petite, slender, with toned muscle. She could easily attribute that to her lifestyle – killing and sex. No, it could very well be the scars. She had many small scars, and two predominant ones on her back. She paused in front of one of the soldiers, her jade eyes watching him closely. She was itching for a fight. It had been over a month, maybe five or six weeks, since she had been brought here. She had had no alcohol, no drugs, other than the painkillers that were carefully monitored, and so many tests that she could not even remember all of them. And, apparently, there was some kind of signaling being transmitted from the base, and she had a distinct impression that it had something to do with the tracking device threading its way into her spine. “Looking at something?” She watched as the soldier’s eyes narrowed. She could almost feel the anger wanted to spark through him, but he was holding back, giving her a reason to push on. She stepped forward until she knew she had invaded his personal space. Her lips pressed together. Her black hair was pulled back out of her face. She could feel her body tensing as she watched him. “What’s the matter? Afraid you’re going to get your ass handed to you by a woman?” She leaned forward, her voice dropping. “A woman you obviously don’t consider you equal? What are you, some kind of pussy?” It was the reaction she was waiting for. Shoar would never initiate the fight physically, but she knew that she had a sharp tongue. Her words struck a chord, and the man lunged at her, losing all the restraint he had struggled to hold on to. She felt his hands push her back until she connected with a wall, his body mere inches from hers. Her eyes never lost their spark, her lips their smirk as she shoved hard back. It had been too long since she had had a good brawl, and she only wished that she was drunk enough to enjoy it more. She felt a fist crack against the side of her face. She surprised him with a powerful punch to his face, forcing him back a few steps. She did not give him a chance to bounce back as she twisted, her heel striking the side of his neck, sending him to the ground. She would have continued to go after him if someone had not wrapped his arms around her, pinning her against him. She struggled, knowing that she was shouting something, yelling at the top of her lungs to be let go, but there was no loosening the grip. There was some murmuring, but she did not catch it. Someone was coming, and she was not entirely sure if she wanted the meeting. |
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