06-13-2008, 07:29 AM
Striding back to camp with the same cocky smile spread across her face, her hands flickering with a quiet power that burned steadily, like two candles at her sides. She picked up her weapon and held it within her hand, testing its weight. There were six other souls out there waiting for her to hunt them down, and with the two guys she was with, victory didn’t seem like such an impossibility.
She knew her chances were slim if they were to encounter something powerful, or if she were to somehow get betrayed, but she’d have to take that chance. Any bloodshed would be welcome, even if it were her own. It was getting down to the grind; in six hours, it would be all over, with one winner and eight losers. So close, so close.
Her dainty finger gently pressed on the trigger, some internal mechanism clicking its payload into place. All it would take was a little more pressure, and the nail would go sailing through the air, its target indiscriminate. Visions of bodies felled by the deadly spikes filled her thoughts, bloodlust instantly filling her with its warm, seductive pulse. Her fingertip caressed the textured plastic of the trigger like sensitive flesh dancing betwixt them. Soon, it would all be over, but who, who amongst them would come out victorious?
Entertaining the thoughts of coming out the champion, a victor amongst killers, just like the old days, Violet cocked the weapon towards the shadows of the forest. Movement along the forest floor caught her internal eye, and she followed its ghostly shell, the tip of her gun primed.
Twang!
She released the trigger, small tendrils of smoke spiraling from its tip. Somewhere out there, a small creature struggled for that one last breath, the nail deeply embedded into its heart. Her smile widened as the sweet scent of blood, insignificant as it was, lilted like the soft notes of perfume towards her.
It pleased her to watch the expression of her Saiyan companion change from disinterest to sudden concern like a mask being pulled over his face. Lifting the weapon’s tip to her glossy lips, she blew the smoke away with a gentle puff of air. “This is what we’ve been waiting for.” She whispered. “This is our Magnum Opus, the great pinnacle of our work, of our survival. It all comes down to this. Are you ready for it, Bardock?”
It was then she noticed that the boy was missing. Although it should have caused her concern, she knew he couldn’t have gotten far on that leg of his. Perhaps, if she were lucky, he’d succumb to the nasty infection, and she’d be the one to put a spike between his eyes. She’d watch with much pleasure as his mind faded, his body spasming involuntarily as the nail worked deeper into his brain. He would die, and she’d have Bardock all to herself again.
The thought was delicious, sweet candy for her to indulge in. It was made all the sweeter to know he thought of her as untrusting, and he was absolutely right. If he wanted trust, he was in the wrong fucking game. She smiled wider.
She knew her chances were slim if they were to encounter something powerful, or if she were to somehow get betrayed, but she’d have to take that chance. Any bloodshed would be welcome, even if it were her own. It was getting down to the grind; in six hours, it would be all over, with one winner and eight losers. So close, so close.
Her dainty finger gently pressed on the trigger, some internal mechanism clicking its payload into place. All it would take was a little more pressure, and the nail would go sailing through the air, its target indiscriminate. Visions of bodies felled by the deadly spikes filled her thoughts, bloodlust instantly filling her with its warm, seductive pulse. Her fingertip caressed the textured plastic of the trigger like sensitive flesh dancing betwixt them. Soon, it would all be over, but who, who amongst them would come out victorious?
Entertaining the thoughts of coming out the champion, a victor amongst killers, just like the old days, Violet cocked the weapon towards the shadows of the forest. Movement along the forest floor caught her internal eye, and she followed its ghostly shell, the tip of her gun primed.
Twang!
She released the trigger, small tendrils of smoke spiraling from its tip. Somewhere out there, a small creature struggled for that one last breath, the nail deeply embedded into its heart. Her smile widened as the sweet scent of blood, insignificant as it was, lilted like the soft notes of perfume towards her.
It pleased her to watch the expression of her Saiyan companion change from disinterest to sudden concern like a mask being pulled over his face. Lifting the weapon’s tip to her glossy lips, she blew the smoke away with a gentle puff of air. “This is what we’ve been waiting for.” She whispered. “This is our Magnum Opus, the great pinnacle of our work, of our survival. It all comes down to this. Are you ready for it, Bardock?”
It was then she noticed that the boy was missing. Although it should have caused her concern, she knew he couldn’t have gotten far on that leg of his. Perhaps, if she were lucky, he’d succumb to the nasty infection, and she’d be the one to put a spike between his eyes. She’d watch with much pleasure as his mind faded, his body spasming involuntarily as the nail worked deeper into his brain. He would die, and she’d have Bardock all to herself again.
The thought was delicious, sweet candy for her to indulge in. It was made all the sweeter to know he thought of her as untrusting, and he was absolutely right. If he wanted trust, he was in the wrong fucking game. She smiled wider.
![[Image: visigjune08_v2.jpg]](http://storm.novahost.org/mysigs/visigjune08_v2.jpg)
Fuck you, Photobucket.