11-13-2009, 03:43 AM
If one were to make a list of them, Belle's dislikes would likely fill several sets of encyclopedias. He hated arrogant people. He hated overly kind people. He hated people in general. He disliked scented soaps, shampoos (which were just indecently named), and deodorant, even though he also disliked the stink of other people's sweat. He hated girls, he hated women, he hated everything in between, and an awful lot of men, too. But, out of all of them, there were few things that Belle hated more than being interrupted while eating.
So when he was unceremoniously yanked away from the large dining table in the Arctic sector's bunker and was summarily dropped into the middle of nowhere, drumstick still clutched in one hand, he was understandably a little miffed.
"Hey! I was eating!" He threw a dirty look up at the sky and waited, but no response came.
He hated people that acted like they were ignoring you.
"Fine, whatever," Belle grumbled. Sitting cross-legged on the snow, he braved the cold for a while longer, tearing large chunks out of the meat with his slightly larger-than-normal canines. A family trait, or so he guessed; his father had had them, too. He idly wondered how it was that no one had showed up to fight him yet, but he guessed that something must have gone wrong, or his opponent had simply run away. He hoped not.
A minute later he dropped a freshly cleaned bone to the ground, brushed his pants off, and stood up. Frowning, he looked left and right. Surely they wouldn't have taken him out of the bunker and then forgotten to send someone else to fight him - would they? Belle didn't know Damon Dukes personally, but it seemed as if the duplicitous old guy would have wanted there to be a little bloodshed.
Shrugging, Belle took a final look at his surroundings before starting off across the frozen tundra. There wasn't much sense staying if there wasn't going to be a fight. He remembered vaguely that a forest sector had been mentioned a couple times before the competition had started, and suddenly, with his toes so cold that he couldn't even feel them anymore, Belle thought that a little camping trip sounded like a pretty good idea.
Striding about a dozen meters, Belle suddenly stopped and cocked his head, listening. It was hard to hear over the distant whistle of wind sliding across the endless snow, and a regular person might not have caught it. But he'd trained his senses far beyond the ordinary, and he heard it well enough. Scowling, he turned around and marched back in the opposite direction, past where he'd been sitting and over the cusp of a nearby snowy dune.
His opponent - or who he guessed was his opponent - was a guy that might have been a little bit older than he was. He wore a black suit that had obviously seen a lot of use, and sunglasses. He had short, dark hair, and tanned skin.
He was also asleep.
Belle thought for a moment about what to do, then nodded to himself. There wasn't much point in being kind about it. This was a compeition, after all.
Bending his knees, Belle leaned down to the man's ear, took a deep breath...
"HEY, WAKE UP!"
The man jumped out of his doze, yelping and flailing. "What the Hell?!"
Satisfied, Belle straightened. "No time for sleep. Time to fight."
Brushing his dark hair out of the way of his sunglasses, the man peered confusedly around, then up at Belle. "You're not a prostitute," he observed.
Twitching, Belle tried to foot the guy's face.
Eyebrows raised over opaque planes of glass in slow motion. Belle's "opponent" - for lack of a better term - tilted his head back, barely avoiding the blow that whistled past his face with the force of a speeding tractor trailer. A flicker of something, maybe evem fear, momentarily passed over his features as he kicked off the snow and slid along his back out of range. He turned his body, sommersaulted backwards, and came to a skidding stop on one knee. "Geez, learn how to take a joke, would you? If you want to fight-" the man grunted, reaching ominously inside his coat.
His hand came out empty. "Huh," he observed, as if he'd just realized he'd forgotten his keys, and looked around. "Ah."
A small object had fallen out of his coat during the roll and lay between them on the slicked snow. A gun, Belle realized. But not an ordinary one. Its sides faintly glowed from soft, interweaving lights that ran like circuitry across its surface. He had the feeling he'd seen something like it before, back when the Construct had come to earth.
A ki gun?
Belle had half a second to realize what it was before both of them were sprinting for it. Whoever his opponent was, he was slightly faster than Belle. Taller, with longer legs. The man was going to reach the gun first.
Gathering his ki in a snap, Belle threw out his hand. A wave of force rippled outward, slamming against and staggering the dark-haired stranger. But though he'd been delayed, John didn't go down.
They reached the gun at almost the same time. John lunged forward and swept his hand across the snow, scooping up the ki pistol, rolling, and bringing it to bear in one fluid movement, but Belle was already moving to counter.
Sliding into John's space before he could fully bring the gun to bear, Belle grabbed John's wrist in one hand and forced it upward. John's fingers reflexively pulled the trigger, a bright beam of crimson blasting from the snubbed end with a wet-sounding b-zap!
Belle snapped his other fist against the suited man's face. John fell back, letting go of the gun, surprise written in every pained line of his taut expression. "Holy shit," he muttered. "That hurt, Steroid Man."
The gun lay on the ground at his feet. Lifting one leg, Belle brought his foot down through the curved metal, snapping the device in half. There was a sharp sputter of light, then nothing as the glow faded. "I'm kinda surprised your head didn't turn around the other way, really," Belle returned, eying the man. The guy didn't seem like the greatest fighter, but he definitely wasn't an ordinary human. He'd been exaggerating about what he'd thought would happen, but only a little bit. "You're pretty tough."
John's lips twitched. "More than 'pretty,'" he said softly, bringing one hand palm up in front of him as he slid the other into his pocket. Five pinpoints of fiery light sprung to life, flickering and growing just beyond his fingertips. "I'm the handsomest devil you'll ever see."
Fire? Belle groaned inwardly. Hadn't he just gone through this dance? Like less than a week ago? Squaring his shoulders, he lowered his body into a fighting stance, eyes flicking over the man's posture, trying to guess how he would attack.
Pi pi pi
The sudden sound made both of the fighters pause and look around. "What the Hell is that?" John demanded as the pinging started again.
"Uh," Belle stared, then shrugged. "You got a cell phone on you or something?"
"Does that sound like a ring tone to you, dumbass?" John growled, not bothering to listen to Belle's retort. The pinging sounded again, and he suddenly stiffened. He whirled his head around, craning to try and look down. "Jesus, it's the collar."
"The collar...?" Belle echoed, then sucked in a frozen breath as he realized what it must mean. "Oh shit."
"What shit?" John demanded, fire still hovering from his fingertips.
"You... didn't go into the house, did you? I was there; I didn't see you."
John's face, pale from the cold, went still paler. "Oops."
"YOU DUMBASS!" Belle roared, his voice echoing across the tundra. "Come on, they went over that rule like a hundred Goddamn times! How did you forget?!"
Pi pi pi ...
So when he was unceremoniously yanked away from the large dining table in the Arctic sector's bunker and was summarily dropped into the middle of nowhere, drumstick still clutched in one hand, he was understandably a little miffed.
"Hey! I was eating!" He threw a dirty look up at the sky and waited, but no response came.
He hated people that acted like they were ignoring you.
"Fine, whatever," Belle grumbled. Sitting cross-legged on the snow, he braved the cold for a while longer, tearing large chunks out of the meat with his slightly larger-than-normal canines. A family trait, or so he guessed; his father had had them, too. He idly wondered how it was that no one had showed up to fight him yet, but he guessed that something must have gone wrong, or his opponent had simply run away. He hoped not.
A minute later he dropped a freshly cleaned bone to the ground, brushed his pants off, and stood up. Frowning, he looked left and right. Surely they wouldn't have taken him out of the bunker and then forgotten to send someone else to fight him - would they? Belle didn't know Damon Dukes personally, but it seemed as if the duplicitous old guy would have wanted there to be a little bloodshed.
Shrugging, Belle took a final look at his surroundings before starting off across the frozen tundra. There wasn't much sense staying if there wasn't going to be a fight. He remembered vaguely that a forest sector had been mentioned a couple times before the competition had started, and suddenly, with his toes so cold that he couldn't even feel them anymore, Belle thought that a little camping trip sounded like a pretty good idea.
Striding about a dozen meters, Belle suddenly stopped and cocked his head, listening. It was hard to hear over the distant whistle of wind sliding across the endless snow, and a regular person might not have caught it. But he'd trained his senses far beyond the ordinary, and he heard it well enough. Scowling, he turned around and marched back in the opposite direction, past where he'd been sitting and over the cusp of a nearby snowy dune.
His opponent - or who he guessed was his opponent - was a guy that might have been a little bit older than he was. He wore a black suit that had obviously seen a lot of use, and sunglasses. He had short, dark hair, and tanned skin.
He was also asleep.
Belle thought for a moment about what to do, then nodded to himself. There wasn't much point in being kind about it. This was a compeition, after all.
Bending his knees, Belle leaned down to the man's ear, took a deep breath...
"HEY, WAKE UP!"
The man jumped out of his doze, yelping and flailing. "What the Hell?!"
Satisfied, Belle straightened. "No time for sleep. Time to fight."
Brushing his dark hair out of the way of his sunglasses, the man peered confusedly around, then up at Belle. "You're not a prostitute," he observed.
Twitching, Belle tried to foot the guy's face.
Eyebrows raised over opaque planes of glass in slow motion. Belle's "opponent" - for lack of a better term - tilted his head back, barely avoiding the blow that whistled past his face with the force of a speeding tractor trailer. A flicker of something, maybe evem fear, momentarily passed over his features as he kicked off the snow and slid along his back out of range. He turned his body, sommersaulted backwards, and came to a skidding stop on one knee. "Geez, learn how to take a joke, would you? If you want to fight-" the man grunted, reaching ominously inside his coat.
His hand came out empty. "Huh," he observed, as if he'd just realized he'd forgotten his keys, and looked around. "Ah."
A small object had fallen out of his coat during the roll and lay between them on the slicked snow. A gun, Belle realized. But not an ordinary one. Its sides faintly glowed from soft, interweaving lights that ran like circuitry across its surface. He had the feeling he'd seen something like it before, back when the Construct had come to earth.
A ki gun?
Belle had half a second to realize what it was before both of them were sprinting for it. Whoever his opponent was, he was slightly faster than Belle. Taller, with longer legs. The man was going to reach the gun first.
Gathering his ki in a snap, Belle threw out his hand. A wave of force rippled outward, slamming against and staggering the dark-haired stranger. But though he'd been delayed, John didn't go down.
They reached the gun at almost the same time. John lunged forward and swept his hand across the snow, scooping up the ki pistol, rolling, and bringing it to bear in one fluid movement, but Belle was already moving to counter.
Sliding into John's space before he could fully bring the gun to bear, Belle grabbed John's wrist in one hand and forced it upward. John's fingers reflexively pulled the trigger, a bright beam of crimson blasting from the snubbed end with a wet-sounding b-zap!
Belle snapped his other fist against the suited man's face. John fell back, letting go of the gun, surprise written in every pained line of his taut expression. "Holy shit," he muttered. "That hurt, Steroid Man."
The gun lay on the ground at his feet. Lifting one leg, Belle brought his foot down through the curved metal, snapping the device in half. There was a sharp sputter of light, then nothing as the glow faded. "I'm kinda surprised your head didn't turn around the other way, really," Belle returned, eying the man. The guy didn't seem like the greatest fighter, but he definitely wasn't an ordinary human. He'd been exaggerating about what he'd thought would happen, but only a little bit. "You're pretty tough."
John's lips twitched. "More than 'pretty,'" he said softly, bringing one hand palm up in front of him as he slid the other into his pocket. Five pinpoints of fiery light sprung to life, flickering and growing just beyond his fingertips. "I'm the handsomest devil you'll ever see."
Fire? Belle groaned inwardly. Hadn't he just gone through this dance? Like less than a week ago? Squaring his shoulders, he lowered his body into a fighting stance, eyes flicking over the man's posture, trying to guess how he would attack.
Pi pi pi
The sudden sound made both of the fighters pause and look around. "What the Hell is that?" John demanded as the pinging started again.
"Uh," Belle stared, then shrugged. "You got a cell phone on you or something?"
"Does that sound like a ring tone to you, dumbass?" John growled, not bothering to listen to Belle's retort. The pinging sounded again, and he suddenly stiffened. He whirled his head around, craning to try and look down. "Jesus, it's the collar."
"The collar...?" Belle echoed, then sucked in a frozen breath as he realized what it must mean. "Oh shit."
"What shit?" John demanded, fire still hovering from his fingertips.
"You... didn't go into the house, did you? I was there; I didn't see you."
John's face, pale from the cold, went still paler. "Oops."
"YOU DUMBASS!" Belle roared, his voice echoing across the tundra. "Come on, they went over that rule like a hundred Goddamn times! How did you forget?!"
Pi pi pi ...
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