Post by The Prettiest Squish on Aug 15, 2018 0:10:30 GMT -5
In the musty, polluted smog of Heretic Cabal, one daft woman roamed its labyrinthian halls in a dazed and drunken stupor. She stumbled aimlessly, wandering left to right in her strut and occasionally topping off her lips with the liquor she bought at a local store. Her name was Rémi Dermott and though she was unaware of it, she was very lost.
The pink haired lass gulped her share of drink and exhaled with vigor, "Woot! This some strong shit." Her words slurred more so than her usually articulate self. Rémi looked around her surroundings for the first time since she arrived at this island. Towering iron structures dominated much of the landscape, metal industrial factories occupying most if not all of the visible horizon. She observed some resemblance of a residential area but the areas were torn down and dilapidated over time as if they'd never been given proper care and maintenance. Still, the setting was dull and it wasn't just because of the air. This island's people were boring and seemed to want only one thing: her sword. She had caught a few staring at the known meito during her arrival at the port as well as in line as she paid for the booze. To her knowledge, it was just the family heirloom that she stole from her adopted father. It certainly had a name much like other famous blades but it never occurred to her it was a prize worth fighting for.
She shrugged nonetheless and continued her gleeful habits. The girl noticed that while many from the shadows lurked to watch her every movement, very few dared to make a move. She guessed it was because of the bright white Marine Officer coat currently sported on her back. The lettering for JUSTICE had been crossed in bright red paint but aside from it, the attire seemed convincing as any other. Surely, they believed she was some high ranking officer and that was why she was safe for the time being. But Rémi scoffed to herself at the notion that she was the one in need of protection. I could kill all these creeps in the time it takes to down a bottle. And fittingly so, she poured the contents of her flask down her throat in a fiery cascade of alcohol.
An energetic sigh of pleasure came from the girl as she savored the last taste of her beverage. It was a good one, she thought, and certainly a product worth buying again despite the shady nature of its vendors. Soon enough though and the woman detected its effects coursing through her and she felt the urge to sit down for a short nap. She found a creaky wooden bench on the side of the road and looked around her surroundings to clear out any evildoers. The coast was clear and she rested on her seat with eyes closed shut...
Moments passed before Rémi awoke from her slumber, well rested and slightly hungover. She stretched and yawned, slapping herself in the cheeks to rejuvenate herself and opened her eyes wide open. It was wise of her to take that nap after all, she thought. Then the pink haired girl looked to her shoulder carrying her sword and saw nothing but a bare deltoid. She blinked.
Rémi removed her glasses and brought them to her mouth before breathing on the lenses. The glass fogged up and she subsequently wiped them dry with her coat. She looked through them to check if they were clean and nodded to herself with a slight grin. The girl equipped said glasses and looked back at her shoulder. Emptiness. She blinked again. Then a third time and a fourth time. "Fuck."
She stood up in a panic and tore the already worn bench in half with her bare hands, "Where is it?!" The brute screamed aloud as she tossed the wooden parts away like they were twigs. She darted around the streets looking left, right, up and down. The girl shook with anxiety, staring from side to side like some deranged maniac. Through the corner of her eye, something emerged. In the distance, a cloud of dust began to dissipate and she could see through her newly cleaned glasses an angry mob of grown men moving away from her and chasing a little girl. Rémi wouldn't care to help the child at all under normal circumstances until she saw the little one holding what appeared to be..."My fuckin' sword!" The pottymouthed drunk spewed out the first thing she could think of when viewing the sight.
Without hesitating she began to sprint toward them, the muscles in her legs working overtime to make up for lost distance. In no time at all, she had already managed to catch up with the barbarians whose weaponry consisted of spiked clubs, iron blades and a goddamn rocket launcher. "What the hell would you need those for on a little girl?" She thought aloud attracting one of the pursuers. He turned back out of surprise and nudged his partners who did the same. But when they looked back, she was gone. Instead, they all gasped in shock at her speed as she slowly passed them and moved ahead of the pack. "Don't mind me, just retrieving a lost item." The girl saluted them and kicked her legs into maximum overdrive, bursting through the scene until she was able to reach the surprisingly swift child at the front of it all. With her full concentration Rémi thrust herself forward and tackled the little girl.
The two stumbled together in a ball of dust and grime. Eventually, they landed somewhere not far from the pursuing crowd and Rémi knelt above the dirty brat with her sword back in hand. "Don't steal from strangers kid, it's not nice." She stood back up just in time for the wheezing middle age men to come roaring in as a collectively exhausted mob. Dermott rolled her eyes at their meaningless efforts and waved her sword around, "Yeah, listen I got this back but if you don't mind, could you not kill her just for stealing my sword? She's only like what, 10?" Her gray eyes looked back at the seemingly unconscious brat and she grimaced.
One of the men, still breathing hard from the run though not quite as much as his allies, walked up and brushed his clothes of any dust. He was a rough and tough looking fellow with aged tan skin and a gray head of hair to boot. His face was comprised of nothing but bushy facial hair and his eyes just reflected cruelty. As for his body, he was stout but stocky: his broad shoulders made up for the lack of height between him and the slightly taller woman and his muscles were easily twice her own size. She guessed that with his move, he was the leader of the mob. Her eyes squinted carefully as he approached, and her fingers moved tightly around the grip of her sword. The man's mustache ruffled as he finally began to speak, "Sorry to say lass but we weren't after that shiny of yours, we were after young Minny here for...other reasons."
She relaxed herself and smiled as much as one could smile given that the situation was unbearably uncomfortable and ominous. The fluctuation in tone as the man gave his concluding statement was not too encouraging for her either. But the girl thought to herself, why should she care? This child meant nothing to her or her ambition, leave it be. Dermott nodded and chuckled to the men, "Well, I guess I'll be on my way then-"
A new member approached her and the semicircle of safety separating her from the pack shrunk even further. "Hold on there, miss. We never says we didn't want the shiny, now did we?" Rémi's grin disappeared and she felt her eyebrows furrow instinctively. Her fingers were tightening against her blade's handle once again. She looked to the graying elder in the middle of the mob and scanned the rest of them. They all resembled one another with variations in skin tone, height and bodily harm. But the men all wore the same uniform, as if they were all working under the same cause: a solid black vest with a gray striped shirt and black pants. She felt stupid not noticing how sophisticated their attire was compared to the setting. They were no ordinary residents and with the appearance of a goddamn rocket launcher on the back of the brawny dark skinned man at the back of the party, she would say they were well equipped for the common naysayer to their crimes. But then again, she was no ordinary woman.
"What makes you think I'll hand it over then?" The girl in the white coat was no longer hiding her intentions, she had fully adopted a battle stance with both hands stuck to the handle of her claymore, her precious Gloirstar. The men in front of her were not impressed however and a few among them chuckled to themselves at the sight of her actually entertaining the thought of a mob-to-woman battle. The leader in the middle was stone faced and walked another step closer to her but with no arms raised to fight. He looked directly into her eyes and whispered quietly, forcing her to listen intently to every word he spoke, "We weren't expecting you to hand it over, to be honest. We don't expect much of dead women. Or living."
That was it. She took off in a dash without any thought and brought her sword down like an axe chop to the man's shoulder. At least that's how she planned it to go before the old dwarf held the steel between his hands with what appeared to be metal cut-proof gloves. Rémi looked in surprise as she was caught off guard and didn't realize the man wasn't stopping his moment just for her to stare in wonder. He quickly made use of her daze and elbowed the woman in the gut and left her breathless. Soon after, he clutched the blade with both hands and front kicked her to the ground in a heap. Rémi groaned with dissatisfaction. "That's cheating..." A roar of laughter spread through the mob of gangsters as she lied holding her stomach. The elder man turned away and began to walk in the opposite direction. The pained girl managed to turn her head to see him escaping and shouted after the criminal, "Where the fuck you think you're going with that?!"
He ignored her inquiry and whistled to his men who immediately shut their laughter and assumed a serious position. "Kill them both, loot whatever you can." The crowd hooted with approval and slowly the semicircle that split her from the animals dissolved. Rémi felt the pain in her abdomen finally disappear and she returned to her feet in a hurry. Her eyes were burning with vengeance but she couldn't afford to waste time fighting these hooligans, there was no way she would lose her sword for the second time in her journey. The girl stood confident with a boxing pose and hissed, "Get out of my way before you regret it."
The man who had previously stated their desire for the sword came crawling out with a wicked grin, "Haha! Are you serious? Lookatchu! You're unarmed! We got swords, clubs and a fuckin' rocket launcher! You're dead, b!" He whistled to signal for the advance and they instantly ran to meet her head on. She grinned to herself and whispered, "Your funeral." Rémi shrugged her shoulders and the white coat on her back fell to the ground exposing her insanely ripped body.
The first idiot who approached her came in with a slow and predictable club swing which she promptly ducked against. The man in question gaped with confusion at how his target wasn't dead already when Rémi came soaring in with a deadly left hook that sent the man flying into the nearest building. His limp body flew into the window and a resulting crash could be heard from inside the room. The men all went from staring at the building to the pink haired brawler and stared amongst each other. A single voice cried out from the masses, "Well?....Kill her!" And without missing a beat, the group roared back into action all wildly charging at the brawny boxer.
Rémi stepped back into her stance and quickly observed her circumstances. She saw that with the removal of one elderly asshole and one idiotic caveman, there were roughly about a dozen men left to fight. In the distance, she could still make out the old grump making off with her sword and clenched her teeth. It will not happen again. She tightened her fists and ran toward the party much to their surprise. The first thing they could react with was swinging their weapons at her but in such close proximity to each other the men began to slice up their own companions. The third of them wielding swords quickly cut themselves down without the girl even doing anything. Three down, nine to go. Rémi then took a detour and headed in the direction of the man with the rocket launcher. He clumsily fumbled with the controls as she rushed toward him. "Wah, uh oh! Yo, back off me!" His crosshairs came down from the body of the launcher and Rémi predicted he was ready to fire. She watched carefully at his finger on the trigger and with a lucky guess, dived out of the way and revealed another three goons chasing behind her. The rocketman's reflexes failed him and he shot off a missile into his friends leaving an explosive trail behind the pink haired fighter. Six down, six to go.
By this time, Rémi was no longer trying to retrieve her sword but was invested fully in teaching these punks never to mess with her, which albeit would be a lot easier if she wasn't letting them be murdered by their own men. Regardless, she enjoyed making fools of fools and continued her rampage through the group. Now the men were far more spread apart and used the distance between each other to circle in on her location. But their tactic meant moot for the girl who fought the Daibukai, Nero Trojan, head on. When the circle was completed and she found herself surrounded, Rémi simply laughed and hopped into the air well above their reach. Two of the remaining six carried spiked clubs that were ready to intercept her landing but just like their window-bound friend, their strikes were too predictable for her and Rémi came crashing down on them with kicks to the face that dug them into the dirt. A surprise attack from behind as she knelt on the ground caught her off guard but she had just enough time to avoid a rusty iron blade from slicing her arm off. The moron who attempted the move swiftly jumped back with fear when he saw her gray eyes burning with fury. "AH! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He dropped his weapon as soon as he could to run but the woman grabbed his scalp by the back and clutched it tight. The man-child screamed as she rose it into the air and his skull audibly cracked with her increasingly strong grip. His cries turned to silent whimpers and when his voice died down to nothing, she grinned at the remaining players and slammed his limp body to the ground in a cloud of dust. "Three down, three to go."
Just then, the prestigious second man who mocked her earlier came forward and whistled to his last two friends. "Boys, it looks like we was wrong on this one...Cobalt, warn the boss about this chick in case things go south. Me and Dodger will figure this out." He and the dark skinned fellow with the rocket launcher looked at a meekly sword wielding teenager in the back, shivering like a soiling dog. Rémi raised a brow and stifled a laugh at the sight of him, how pathetic it was. "Run along now, boy. Your boss is gonna need to know what hits him." The two men stared down their tiny partner until he nodded and sprinted for the road that the elder embarked on. Now it was just the two of them left and they both kept their eyes focused on the pink haired brute. "So, it's about time things went south, wouldn't you agree?" Dermott put her fists up preemptively as she was unsure just what exactly the second lackey was capable of. Unlike his other goons, he was unarmed, ironic given that he mocked her for being empty-handed as well. But she didn't care, he was another face to smash before taking out the man with the rocket launcher. Then, he did something she never expected. "Dodger. Let me teach this bitch a lesson how we do things on Heretic." The man known as Dodger grinned and put his rocket launcher down, confusing the confident boxer. Was this guy really that good of a fighter to warrant a one on one after she made complete fools of their colleagues? She shrugged, like she said, it was their funeral.
Rémi slowly walked toward him, eyes still shifting to Dodger to see if he would pull any dirty moves. When she looked back, however, the second lackey sported a pair of knuckle dusters on his fists. She squinted and raised up her guard. Oh, you're really cheating now... The 2nd put up his own knuckles in response, mirroring her every move in both footwork and stance. They stared each other down until both were within breathing distance from another. "Your move, jugs." Rémi's eyes popped and with it so did her arm. She shot off an immediate right hook aimed for the cocky face of this no-name lackey when suddenly he stepped back and allowed her to lunge forward where her face was perfectly positioned for a counter. "God, girls are so easy." He wound up his arm with a bow and blasted an uppercut digging the dusters into her cheeks. Rémi felt her whole body being sent into the air as the momentum from the swing scrambled her brains.
When she landed, a good few seconds went by before she could move back to her feet and by then she was still unable to form words with that wicked cut on her face clearly affecting more than just the surface. Wha...da hell?... Her eyes were far lazier and laid back than they were before. The henchman took advantage of this and danced around her still guarding himself in the event of retaliation. "What's the matter? Never got hit by a real man before?" He kissed his dusters before cackling at the bumbling buxom woman. She squinted her eyes over and over and slapped herself on the face yet again to wake herself up. But nothing was working, that was for sure. For all she knew, that duster was no ordinary material she'd ever been hit with. And as if he read her mind, the guy bragged of his possession as she mumbled on. "You see these?" He displayed them for her to see, her blood still dripping from the edges. "These are Seastone Dusters, girl. Hardest material in the seas, harder than steel, harder than anything you ever seen." He kissed them again like they were his children but this time licked the blood off and spit it on the ground before using his cuff to wipe off any excess on his lips.
Rémi breathed softly, taking into account what he revealed to her and formulating a strategy in her mind. But with how scrambled her thoughts become, tactics were out the question. She couldn't think now, she could only act. So the girl put up her guard once more and this time made no advances on the arrogant asshole in front of her. After a while of dancing with each other, he meant to provoke her, "Go on then, bitch. Make the call." But she refused to play by his rules. She could see it now; he was no alpha male, he was the coward that waited in the shadows. And so long as she never moved, neither would he. "What are you waiting for, melons?" Rémi waited.
But a grunt in the background urged there was no time to waste. Dodger was growing bored of their stalemate and he soon began to toy with the rocket launcher. She switched quickly to her opponent, not giving him a chance to make the first move while she was distracted. He hopped around just hoping for her to fight but she remained calm all the same. "You're really pissing me off, hooters. I'd expect a girl like you to melt all over a guy like me." An exasperated sigh left her lips as she rolled her eyes as the banter. He began to grin and cackle at her, slowing down his hops and removing his hands from his mouth to better proclaim his insults. "C'mon knockers! Milky, milky, milky! Start the show or I'll smack your teeth in!" Rémi yawned and scratched her nose. The man was not amused and his arms dropped even lower while his feet stayed planted to the ground. He was no longer mirroring her every move.
"Excuse me? Are you fuckin' deaf? Or mute?! You said all that good shit a second ago? So where is it huh?" He stuck his head out with that last pronunciation like a cuckoo clock announcing the hourly appointment. She laughed at the imagery and his face went red with anger. "Oh you laughing now?! What's so funny, whore? Is your broken jaw that funny? Because I'm about to fuck you up, right no-" The pink haired girl saw the opening and struck hard when she took it. His arms were low, his feet were still and his head popped out like a jack-in-the-box so long that she barely had to reach when making the right hook into his dopey, stupid face. With one punch, she knocked the daylights out of the prick and sent him crashing into the wall adjacent to them, creating a body-shaped imprint in the concrete. Rémi sighed and looked to the side of her and came face to face with Dodger holding the rocket launcher. "Oh fuck."
The pink haired lass gulped her share of drink and exhaled with vigor, "Woot! This some strong shit." Her words slurred more so than her usually articulate self. Rémi looked around her surroundings for the first time since she arrived at this island. Towering iron structures dominated much of the landscape, metal industrial factories occupying most if not all of the visible horizon. She observed some resemblance of a residential area but the areas were torn down and dilapidated over time as if they'd never been given proper care and maintenance. Still, the setting was dull and it wasn't just because of the air. This island's people were boring and seemed to want only one thing: her sword. She had caught a few staring at the known meito during her arrival at the port as well as in line as she paid for the booze. To her knowledge, it was just the family heirloom that she stole from her adopted father. It certainly had a name much like other famous blades but it never occurred to her it was a prize worth fighting for.
She shrugged nonetheless and continued her gleeful habits. The girl noticed that while many from the shadows lurked to watch her every movement, very few dared to make a move. She guessed it was because of the bright white Marine Officer coat currently sported on her back. The lettering for JUSTICE had been crossed in bright red paint but aside from it, the attire seemed convincing as any other. Surely, they believed she was some high ranking officer and that was why she was safe for the time being. But Rémi scoffed to herself at the notion that she was the one in need of protection. I could kill all these creeps in the time it takes to down a bottle. And fittingly so, she poured the contents of her flask down her throat in a fiery cascade of alcohol.
An energetic sigh of pleasure came from the girl as she savored the last taste of her beverage. It was a good one, she thought, and certainly a product worth buying again despite the shady nature of its vendors. Soon enough though and the woman detected its effects coursing through her and she felt the urge to sit down for a short nap. She found a creaky wooden bench on the side of the road and looked around her surroundings to clear out any evildoers. The coast was clear and she rested on her seat with eyes closed shut...
Moments passed before Rémi awoke from her slumber, well rested and slightly hungover. She stretched and yawned, slapping herself in the cheeks to rejuvenate herself and opened her eyes wide open. It was wise of her to take that nap after all, she thought. Then the pink haired girl looked to her shoulder carrying her sword and saw nothing but a bare deltoid. She blinked.
Rémi removed her glasses and brought them to her mouth before breathing on the lenses. The glass fogged up and she subsequently wiped them dry with her coat. She looked through them to check if they were clean and nodded to herself with a slight grin. The girl equipped said glasses and looked back at her shoulder. Emptiness. She blinked again. Then a third time and a fourth time. "Fuck."
She stood up in a panic and tore the already worn bench in half with her bare hands, "Where is it?!" The brute screamed aloud as she tossed the wooden parts away like they were twigs. She darted around the streets looking left, right, up and down. The girl shook with anxiety, staring from side to side like some deranged maniac. Through the corner of her eye, something emerged. In the distance, a cloud of dust began to dissipate and she could see through her newly cleaned glasses an angry mob of grown men moving away from her and chasing a little girl. Rémi wouldn't care to help the child at all under normal circumstances until she saw the little one holding what appeared to be..."My fuckin' sword!" The pottymouthed drunk spewed out the first thing she could think of when viewing the sight.
Without hesitating she began to sprint toward them, the muscles in her legs working overtime to make up for lost distance. In no time at all, she had already managed to catch up with the barbarians whose weaponry consisted of spiked clubs, iron blades and a goddamn rocket launcher. "What the hell would you need those for on a little girl?" She thought aloud attracting one of the pursuers. He turned back out of surprise and nudged his partners who did the same. But when they looked back, she was gone. Instead, they all gasped in shock at her speed as she slowly passed them and moved ahead of the pack. "Don't mind me, just retrieving a lost item." The girl saluted them and kicked her legs into maximum overdrive, bursting through the scene until she was able to reach the surprisingly swift child at the front of it all. With her full concentration Rémi thrust herself forward and tackled the little girl.
The two stumbled together in a ball of dust and grime. Eventually, they landed somewhere not far from the pursuing crowd and Rémi knelt above the dirty brat with her sword back in hand. "Don't steal from strangers kid, it's not nice." She stood back up just in time for the wheezing middle age men to come roaring in as a collectively exhausted mob. Dermott rolled her eyes at their meaningless efforts and waved her sword around, "Yeah, listen I got this back but if you don't mind, could you not kill her just for stealing my sword? She's only like what, 10?" Her gray eyes looked back at the seemingly unconscious brat and she grimaced.
One of the men, still breathing hard from the run though not quite as much as his allies, walked up and brushed his clothes of any dust. He was a rough and tough looking fellow with aged tan skin and a gray head of hair to boot. His face was comprised of nothing but bushy facial hair and his eyes just reflected cruelty. As for his body, he was stout but stocky: his broad shoulders made up for the lack of height between him and the slightly taller woman and his muscles were easily twice her own size. She guessed that with his move, he was the leader of the mob. Her eyes squinted carefully as he approached, and her fingers moved tightly around the grip of her sword. The man's mustache ruffled as he finally began to speak, "Sorry to say lass but we weren't after that shiny of yours, we were after young Minny here for...other reasons."
She relaxed herself and smiled as much as one could smile given that the situation was unbearably uncomfortable and ominous. The fluctuation in tone as the man gave his concluding statement was not too encouraging for her either. But the girl thought to herself, why should she care? This child meant nothing to her or her ambition, leave it be. Dermott nodded and chuckled to the men, "Well, I guess I'll be on my way then-"
A new member approached her and the semicircle of safety separating her from the pack shrunk even further. "Hold on there, miss. We never says we didn't want the shiny, now did we?" Rémi's grin disappeared and she felt her eyebrows furrow instinctively. Her fingers were tightening against her blade's handle once again. She looked to the graying elder in the middle of the mob and scanned the rest of them. They all resembled one another with variations in skin tone, height and bodily harm. But the men all wore the same uniform, as if they were all working under the same cause: a solid black vest with a gray striped shirt and black pants. She felt stupid not noticing how sophisticated their attire was compared to the setting. They were no ordinary residents and with the appearance of a goddamn rocket launcher on the back of the brawny dark skinned man at the back of the party, she would say they were well equipped for the common naysayer to their crimes. But then again, she was no ordinary woman.
"What makes you think I'll hand it over then?" The girl in the white coat was no longer hiding her intentions, she had fully adopted a battle stance with both hands stuck to the handle of her claymore, her precious Gloirstar. The men in front of her were not impressed however and a few among them chuckled to themselves at the sight of her actually entertaining the thought of a mob-to-woman battle. The leader in the middle was stone faced and walked another step closer to her but with no arms raised to fight. He looked directly into her eyes and whispered quietly, forcing her to listen intently to every word he spoke, "We weren't expecting you to hand it over, to be honest. We don't expect much of dead women. Or living."
That was it. She took off in a dash without any thought and brought her sword down like an axe chop to the man's shoulder. At least that's how she planned it to go before the old dwarf held the steel between his hands with what appeared to be metal cut-proof gloves. Rémi looked in surprise as she was caught off guard and didn't realize the man wasn't stopping his moment just for her to stare in wonder. He quickly made use of her daze and elbowed the woman in the gut and left her breathless. Soon after, he clutched the blade with both hands and front kicked her to the ground in a heap. Rémi groaned with dissatisfaction. "That's cheating..." A roar of laughter spread through the mob of gangsters as she lied holding her stomach. The elder man turned away and began to walk in the opposite direction. The pained girl managed to turn her head to see him escaping and shouted after the criminal, "Where the fuck you think you're going with that?!"
He ignored her inquiry and whistled to his men who immediately shut their laughter and assumed a serious position. "Kill them both, loot whatever you can." The crowd hooted with approval and slowly the semicircle that split her from the animals dissolved. Rémi felt the pain in her abdomen finally disappear and she returned to her feet in a hurry. Her eyes were burning with vengeance but she couldn't afford to waste time fighting these hooligans, there was no way she would lose her sword for the second time in her journey. The girl stood confident with a boxing pose and hissed, "Get out of my way before you regret it."
The man who had previously stated their desire for the sword came crawling out with a wicked grin, "Haha! Are you serious? Lookatchu! You're unarmed! We got swords, clubs and a fuckin' rocket launcher! You're dead, b!" He whistled to signal for the advance and they instantly ran to meet her head on. She grinned to herself and whispered, "Your funeral." Rémi shrugged her shoulders and the white coat on her back fell to the ground exposing her insanely ripped body.
The first idiot who approached her came in with a slow and predictable club swing which she promptly ducked against. The man in question gaped with confusion at how his target wasn't dead already when Rémi came soaring in with a deadly left hook that sent the man flying into the nearest building. His limp body flew into the window and a resulting crash could be heard from inside the room. The men all went from staring at the building to the pink haired brawler and stared amongst each other. A single voice cried out from the masses, "Well?....Kill her!" And without missing a beat, the group roared back into action all wildly charging at the brawny boxer.
Rémi stepped back into her stance and quickly observed her circumstances. She saw that with the removal of one elderly asshole and one idiotic caveman, there were roughly about a dozen men left to fight. In the distance, she could still make out the old grump making off with her sword and clenched her teeth. It will not happen again. She tightened her fists and ran toward the party much to their surprise. The first thing they could react with was swinging their weapons at her but in such close proximity to each other the men began to slice up their own companions. The third of them wielding swords quickly cut themselves down without the girl even doing anything. Three down, nine to go. Rémi then took a detour and headed in the direction of the man with the rocket launcher. He clumsily fumbled with the controls as she rushed toward him. "Wah, uh oh! Yo, back off me!" His crosshairs came down from the body of the launcher and Rémi predicted he was ready to fire. She watched carefully at his finger on the trigger and with a lucky guess, dived out of the way and revealed another three goons chasing behind her. The rocketman's reflexes failed him and he shot off a missile into his friends leaving an explosive trail behind the pink haired fighter. Six down, six to go.
By this time, Rémi was no longer trying to retrieve her sword but was invested fully in teaching these punks never to mess with her, which albeit would be a lot easier if she wasn't letting them be murdered by their own men. Regardless, she enjoyed making fools of fools and continued her rampage through the group. Now the men were far more spread apart and used the distance between each other to circle in on her location. But their tactic meant moot for the girl who fought the Daibukai, Nero Trojan, head on. When the circle was completed and she found herself surrounded, Rémi simply laughed and hopped into the air well above their reach. Two of the remaining six carried spiked clubs that were ready to intercept her landing but just like their window-bound friend, their strikes were too predictable for her and Rémi came crashing down on them with kicks to the face that dug them into the dirt. A surprise attack from behind as she knelt on the ground caught her off guard but she had just enough time to avoid a rusty iron blade from slicing her arm off. The moron who attempted the move swiftly jumped back with fear when he saw her gray eyes burning with fury. "AH! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He dropped his weapon as soon as he could to run but the woman grabbed his scalp by the back and clutched it tight. The man-child screamed as she rose it into the air and his skull audibly cracked with her increasingly strong grip. His cries turned to silent whimpers and when his voice died down to nothing, she grinned at the remaining players and slammed his limp body to the ground in a cloud of dust. "Three down, three to go."
Just then, the prestigious second man who mocked her earlier came forward and whistled to his last two friends. "Boys, it looks like we was wrong on this one...Cobalt, warn the boss about this chick in case things go south. Me and Dodger will figure this out." He and the dark skinned fellow with the rocket launcher looked at a meekly sword wielding teenager in the back, shivering like a soiling dog. Rémi raised a brow and stifled a laugh at the sight of him, how pathetic it was. "Run along now, boy. Your boss is gonna need to know what hits him." The two men stared down their tiny partner until he nodded and sprinted for the road that the elder embarked on. Now it was just the two of them left and they both kept their eyes focused on the pink haired brute. "So, it's about time things went south, wouldn't you agree?" Dermott put her fists up preemptively as she was unsure just what exactly the second lackey was capable of. Unlike his other goons, he was unarmed, ironic given that he mocked her for being empty-handed as well. But she didn't care, he was another face to smash before taking out the man with the rocket launcher. Then, he did something she never expected. "Dodger. Let me teach this bitch a lesson how we do things on Heretic." The man known as Dodger grinned and put his rocket launcher down, confusing the confident boxer. Was this guy really that good of a fighter to warrant a one on one after she made complete fools of their colleagues? She shrugged, like she said, it was their funeral.
Rémi slowly walked toward him, eyes still shifting to Dodger to see if he would pull any dirty moves. When she looked back, however, the second lackey sported a pair of knuckle dusters on his fists. She squinted and raised up her guard. Oh, you're really cheating now... The 2nd put up his own knuckles in response, mirroring her every move in both footwork and stance. They stared each other down until both were within breathing distance from another. "Your move, jugs." Rémi's eyes popped and with it so did her arm. She shot off an immediate right hook aimed for the cocky face of this no-name lackey when suddenly he stepped back and allowed her to lunge forward where her face was perfectly positioned for a counter. "God, girls are so easy." He wound up his arm with a bow and blasted an uppercut digging the dusters into her cheeks. Rémi felt her whole body being sent into the air as the momentum from the swing scrambled her brains.
When she landed, a good few seconds went by before she could move back to her feet and by then she was still unable to form words with that wicked cut on her face clearly affecting more than just the surface. Wha...da hell?... Her eyes were far lazier and laid back than they were before. The henchman took advantage of this and danced around her still guarding himself in the event of retaliation. "What's the matter? Never got hit by a real man before?" He kissed his dusters before cackling at the bumbling buxom woman. She squinted her eyes over and over and slapped herself on the face yet again to wake herself up. But nothing was working, that was for sure. For all she knew, that duster was no ordinary material she'd ever been hit with. And as if he read her mind, the guy bragged of his possession as she mumbled on. "You see these?" He displayed them for her to see, her blood still dripping from the edges. "These are Seastone Dusters, girl. Hardest material in the seas, harder than steel, harder than anything you ever seen." He kissed them again like they were his children but this time licked the blood off and spit it on the ground before using his cuff to wipe off any excess on his lips.
Rémi breathed softly, taking into account what he revealed to her and formulating a strategy in her mind. But with how scrambled her thoughts become, tactics were out the question. She couldn't think now, she could only act. So the girl put up her guard once more and this time made no advances on the arrogant asshole in front of her. After a while of dancing with each other, he meant to provoke her, "Go on then, bitch. Make the call." But she refused to play by his rules. She could see it now; he was no alpha male, he was the coward that waited in the shadows. And so long as she never moved, neither would he. "What are you waiting for, melons?" Rémi waited.
But a grunt in the background urged there was no time to waste. Dodger was growing bored of their stalemate and he soon began to toy with the rocket launcher. She switched quickly to her opponent, not giving him a chance to make the first move while she was distracted. He hopped around just hoping for her to fight but she remained calm all the same. "You're really pissing me off, hooters. I'd expect a girl like you to melt all over a guy like me." An exasperated sigh left her lips as she rolled her eyes as the banter. He began to grin and cackle at her, slowing down his hops and removing his hands from his mouth to better proclaim his insults. "C'mon knockers! Milky, milky, milky! Start the show or I'll smack your teeth in!" Rémi yawned and scratched her nose. The man was not amused and his arms dropped even lower while his feet stayed planted to the ground. He was no longer mirroring her every move.
"Excuse me? Are you fuckin' deaf? Or mute?! You said all that good shit a second ago? So where is it huh?" He stuck his head out with that last pronunciation like a cuckoo clock announcing the hourly appointment. She laughed at the imagery and his face went red with anger. "Oh you laughing now?! What's so funny, whore? Is your broken jaw that funny? Because I'm about to fuck you up, right no-" The pink haired girl saw the opening and struck hard when she took it. His arms were low, his feet were still and his head popped out like a jack-in-the-box so long that she barely had to reach when making the right hook into his dopey, stupid face. With one punch, she knocked the daylights out of the prick and sent him crashing into the wall adjacent to them, creating a body-shaped imprint in the concrete. Rémi sighed and looked to the side of her and came face to face with Dodger holding the rocket launcher. "Oh fuck."
BANG!
A metal projectile shot out of the barrel and flew straight at her head which caused the dizzy damsel to duck for cover as it made its way for the further road and left an explosion among the debris. "You could've waited for me to get ready, you know.." Her ears picked up the sound of a plop! and she turned quickly to see Dodger finishing reloading and aiming the launcher at her yet again. She cursed under her breath before jolting off the floor and sprinting in a mad direction. The heat of the explosion encompassed her back and the shockwave sent her into a stone wall. Her head ached and Rémi's vision became blurry; this was not going to last much longer. She turned to see Dodger in the midst of reloading and picked up a rock nearby from the rubble. Her legs were still good to go and so yet again she picked herself off the ground and made a run for it only this time with ammo to spare. As Dodger aimed the rocket for her body, she promptly threw the rock like a bullet square into the man's eyes. A fitting shriek came from his mouth as blood began to leak from his skull. "Agh!! You done did it now! You're dead, girl!" The last lackey used his arm to aim while the other focused on holding his sockets together.
Dermott came to a halt as her plan actually worked and she watched as the final member of this insufferable gang was writhing in pain. But she realized that with that launcher on his shoulder, things were not as comfortable as they seemed. Slowly the girl tiptoed toward him, not wishing to arouse any suspicion. He constantly swore at her with every curse in the dictionary that she was afraid of being violated from such corrupted vocabulary. Slowly but surely though, she made her way closer to him until a stray iron blade fumbled her footing and attracted Dodger's attention to her location. "Found you!" He took his aching hand off his head and pulled the trigger. Rémi immediately ducked to avoid the rocket and looked back out of curiosity where it would land. At the time of shooting, his aim was slightly upwards and askew which meant it would probably land somewhere in the surrounding structures. She thought it would be unwise to not watch out for stray debris. Little did she know how much she'd care about who the debris would fall on.
Her eyes were lazy and unconcerned when the explosion landed on a nearby house. Though it was solid concrete, the blast had managed to make quite the impact and she saw that the upper weight of the architecture was beginning to tilt. Ooh, let's not deal with that... She began to move her feet in the direction of the elder, completely ignoring no-eyed Dodger and his cries of pain when suddenly a whisper in the wind caught her attention.
Those lazy, gray eyes looked behind to see the little girl fully awake and reaching out to the pink haired hero with tears in her childish pupils. Rémi froze for a moment, looking back at this brat who stole her sword. The cause behind all this mayhem, all this violence. She scoffed dismissively and turned away, facing only the path that the elder and "Cobalt" took off in. But yet again, the whisper persisted, hauntingly quiet but just enough for her to hear it,
Rémi stepped forward reluctantly, biting her lips with frustration. Why? Why was she not moving towards her goal? Her sword, as her own idol said, was the key to becoming a legend! She would cut through her foes and rise to the top! It would be a dream come true and all it took was taking that first step forward, so why of all times could she not move from this spot?! Rémi turned back to glare at the helpless little brat. Help yourself kid!...I...I can't do anything for you. Her foot moved on and the second, then the third. She slowly strolled on, ignoring the plea. Until she heard the words that just simply broke her,
The concrete building cracked with a thunderous boom and the shadow of the colossal stone came falling down upon the crying child. She wept as it loomed over and the weight of the air itself leaned heavily like a crate of cement. Her eyes closed as her lips let out a final whimper; she had accepted it. Yet, a second later and she could still hear her sobbing and smell the smog of Heretic Cabal in her nostrils. The little girl opened her eyes in amazement as the tears on her face were replaced by beads of sweat coming from above.
Rémi couldn't breathe. Her teeth felt they would all crack under the pressure. Even her eyes were about to explode from just opening after each blink. Why was that? She was lifting half a concrete building on her back and keeping it from crushing one snot nosed little thief. Her arms were bulging bigger than she had ever pushed them before. The veins in her neck, her legs, all over her body were popping out clearly against the strained fibers of her slowly tearing muscles. Her face adopted a disgusting purplish-red like some demonic beet. It appeared all her energy was exhausted on this one task but deep inside, Rémi could still think. Why...Why am I doing this?!...If I fail, I'll die a nobody and lose everything I worked for! Sir Trojan...I'm sorry you wasted your talents on someone like me! This might just be the end...
The crimson skinned zealot felt her body failing her and the stone began to dip deeper as her legs started to give. Her eyes grew back into that lazy and unconcerned glaze, a signal that perhaps she was finally ready to quit. She clenched her teeth but managed to curl her lips together for one last wicked smile. It was a good run...Maybe I'll have...at least one person to remember me...
Suddenly, Rémi felt just the slightest bit of weight taken off her shoulders, almost undetectable for those not astute enough to perceive it but just enough pressure that she could feel a change. And that's when she opened her eyes with a bright flame of vigor yet again as she watched the tiny girl quaking in her little feet as she struggled to help her lift the concrete slab off her back. "What....are you doing...?" At this point, Dermott's voice was quieter than the whisper that the child pleaded with. Her throat was gone along with much of her systems and it was only the bare minimum of her survival instincts preventing them from dying together. Yet seeing this meager half-pint do her hardest to persevere left a hopeful note inside the forfeited warrior. Then the little girl saw her hero staring at her with open, trusting eyes and with her juvenile optimism, she shouted,
Rémi's spine tingled with those words, as childish and silly as they were, she was right. This would not be the day nor the way that the great Rémi Dermott would die! Not today! Not until she showed the world just who she was! The busty brawn brawler dug deep inside her self and breathed in however much she could. Her eyes were invigorated, her arms grew massive, her legs roared with thunder. She seethed at the mouth, foaming and drooling simultaneously as her thighs bulged and tore her shorts by the seams. They grew and flexed, distancing herself from the ground and bringing the colossal weight higher into the air. Then, her hands grabbed tightly to the concrete as her shoulders exploded with power through each centimeter of movement, causing her to scream viciously into the air with every single ascent. The stone was no longer anchored to her body; she carried it in full atop her body and safely off the child who pleaded for her help. Rémi's face turned into a violent shade of violet as the veins in her eyes branched off into numerous bolts of scarlet blood. She was past her limit now, everything here on was just another addition to a broken body in the aftermath.
But in this moment, while she held the weight of this stone, the weight of her dreams and will depended solely on whether she could fulfill that promise. With one last scream, Rémi used everything she had and thrust her arms into the concrete, digging the soles of her feet into the ground as a result. Her shoulder expanded one last time as the concrete debris flew off her hands and landed in a seismic crash that sent her falling to the ground with exhaustion. Her voice died down to a high pitched whistle until nothing was left in her lungs to speak.
She lied in silence with her eyes looking toward a fleeing Dodger. He's still alive, huh?...Damn bastard. The girl chuckled, or at least tried to, but could only smile a toothy grin as a wheeze left her lips instead. Rémi's gray eyes glowed with passion and she looked into the smoggy horizon unsure if this would be the last thing she saw before death. Her vision grew blurry and her lids began to close but just before they did, the chubby face of the little girl came into focus and Rémi grinned harder, for reasons unknown to anyone but herself. As her eyes shut tight and the world became dark, she felt a tiny pair of hands take her own and drag her body inch by inch across the ground. As she slowly lost consciousness during this trip, she could've sworn she heard the little girl sobbing to herself, "T-thank you, M-missus. T-thank you!"
She felt her lips curling back as if to form a smile and whispered with the ounce of breath that was left, "It's Rémi, kid...Rémi Dermott..."
Dermott came to a halt as her plan actually worked and she watched as the final member of this insufferable gang was writhing in pain. But she realized that with that launcher on his shoulder, things were not as comfortable as they seemed. Slowly the girl tiptoed toward him, not wishing to arouse any suspicion. He constantly swore at her with every curse in the dictionary that she was afraid of being violated from such corrupted vocabulary. Slowly but surely though, she made her way closer to him until a stray iron blade fumbled her footing and attracted Dodger's attention to her location. "Found you!" He took his aching hand off his head and pulled the trigger. Rémi immediately ducked to avoid the rocket and looked back out of curiosity where it would land. At the time of shooting, his aim was slightly upwards and askew which meant it would probably land somewhere in the surrounding structures. She thought it would be unwise to not watch out for stray debris. Little did she know how much she'd care about who the debris would fall on.
Her eyes were lazy and unconcerned when the explosion landed on a nearby house. Though it was solid concrete, the blast had managed to make quite the impact and she saw that the upper weight of the architecture was beginning to tilt. Ooh, let's not deal with that... She began to move her feet in the direction of the elder, completely ignoring no-eyed Dodger and his cries of pain when suddenly a whisper in the wind caught her attention.
"Help...Please help me..."
Those lazy, gray eyes looked behind to see the little girl fully awake and reaching out to the pink haired hero with tears in her childish pupils. Rémi froze for a moment, looking back at this brat who stole her sword. The cause behind all this mayhem, all this violence. She scoffed dismissively and turned away, facing only the path that the elder and "Cobalt" took off in. But yet again, the whisper persisted, hauntingly quiet but just enough for her to hear it,
"Please...help me..."
Rémi stepped forward reluctantly, biting her lips with frustration. Why? Why was she not moving towards her goal? Her sword, as her own idol said, was the key to becoming a legend! She would cut through her foes and rise to the top! It would be a dream come true and all it took was taking that first step forward, so why of all times could she not move from this spot?! Rémi turned back to glare at the helpless little brat. Help yourself kid!...I...I can't do anything for you. Her foot moved on and the second, then the third. She slowly strolled on, ignoring the plea. Until she heard the words that just simply broke her,
"I don't wanna be forgotten..."
The concrete building cracked with a thunderous boom and the shadow of the colossal stone came falling down upon the crying child. She wept as it loomed over and the weight of the air itself leaned heavily like a crate of cement. Her eyes closed as her lips let out a final whimper; she had accepted it. Yet, a second later and she could still hear her sobbing and smell the smog of Heretic Cabal in her nostrils. The little girl opened her eyes in amazement as the tears on her face were replaced by beads of sweat coming from above.
Rémi couldn't breathe. Her teeth felt they would all crack under the pressure. Even her eyes were about to explode from just opening after each blink. Why was that? She was lifting half a concrete building on her back and keeping it from crushing one snot nosed little thief. Her arms were bulging bigger than she had ever pushed them before. The veins in her neck, her legs, all over her body were popping out clearly against the strained fibers of her slowly tearing muscles. Her face adopted a disgusting purplish-red like some demonic beet. It appeared all her energy was exhausted on this one task but deep inside, Rémi could still think. Why...Why am I doing this?!...If I fail, I'll die a nobody and lose everything I worked for! Sir Trojan...I'm sorry you wasted your talents on someone like me! This might just be the end...
The crimson skinned zealot felt her body failing her and the stone began to dip deeper as her legs started to give. Her eyes grew back into that lazy and unconcerned glaze, a signal that perhaps she was finally ready to quit. She clenched her teeth but managed to curl her lips together for one last wicked smile. It was a good run...Maybe I'll have...at least one person to remember me...
Suddenly, Rémi felt just the slightest bit of weight taken off her shoulders, almost undetectable for those not astute enough to perceive it but just enough pressure that she could feel a change. And that's when she opened her eyes with a bright flame of vigor yet again as she watched the tiny girl quaking in her little feet as she struggled to help her lift the concrete slab off her back. "What....are you doing...?" At this point, Dermott's voice was quieter than the whisper that the child pleaded with. Her throat was gone along with much of her systems and it was only the bare minimum of her survival instincts preventing them from dying together. Yet seeing this meager half-pint do her hardest to persevere left a hopeful note inside the forfeited warrior. Then the little girl saw her hero staring at her with open, trusting eyes and with her juvenile optimism, she shouted,
"You can't give up, miss! You have to get your sword back, right!? You have to beat that guy! You gotta WIN!"
Rémi's spine tingled with those words, as childish and silly as they were, she was right. This would not be the day nor the way that the great Rémi Dermott would die! Not today! Not until she showed the world just who she was! The busty brawn brawler dug deep inside her self and breathed in however much she could. Her eyes were invigorated, her arms grew massive, her legs roared with thunder. She seethed at the mouth, foaming and drooling simultaneously as her thighs bulged and tore her shorts by the seams. They grew and flexed, distancing herself from the ground and bringing the colossal weight higher into the air. Then, her hands grabbed tightly to the concrete as her shoulders exploded with power through each centimeter of movement, causing her to scream viciously into the air with every single ascent. The stone was no longer anchored to her body; she carried it in full atop her body and safely off the child who pleaded for her help. Rémi's face turned into a violent shade of violet as the veins in her eyes branched off into numerous bolts of scarlet blood. She was past her limit now, everything here on was just another addition to a broken body in the aftermath.
But in this moment, while she held the weight of this stone, the weight of her dreams and will depended solely on whether she could fulfill that promise. With one last scream, Rémi used everything she had and thrust her arms into the concrete, digging the soles of her feet into the ground as a result. Her shoulder expanded one last time as the concrete debris flew off her hands and landed in a seismic crash that sent her falling to the ground with exhaustion. Her voice died down to a high pitched whistle until nothing was left in her lungs to speak.
She lied in silence with her eyes looking toward a fleeing Dodger. He's still alive, huh?...Damn bastard. The girl chuckled, or at least tried to, but could only smile a toothy grin as a wheeze left her lips instead. Rémi's gray eyes glowed with passion and she looked into the smoggy horizon unsure if this would be the last thing she saw before death. Her vision grew blurry and her lids began to close but just before they did, the chubby face of the little girl came into focus and Rémi grinned harder, for reasons unknown to anyone but herself. As her eyes shut tight and the world became dark, she felt a tiny pair of hands take her own and drag her body inch by inch across the ground. As she slowly lost consciousness during this trip, she could've sworn she heard the little girl sobbing to herself, "T-thank you, M-missus. T-thank you!"
She felt her lips curling back as if to form a smile and whispered with the ounce of breath that was left, "It's Rémi, kid...Rémi Dermott..."
