Freeloader [closed]

[ECS NPC]

Though the woman kept herself relaxed, Raven could obviously tell that she was preparing for a fight. A single glance told her that this so-called Yueying Huang was a martial artist. This knowledge would have intimidated any average person, but Raven regarded it with cold disdain. She herself came from a long line of martial arts masters. It was in her blood. It had taken her only a month to perfect the skills that most people trained their entire lifetime to obtain, if they did at all.

But her jeweled dagger thirsted for blood today--Hunter blood. Raven could feel the weapon's magic through her fingertips. It was enchanted, of course. She never had to clean or maintain it in any way (what kind of losers wasted their time doing that, anyway?), yet its blade remained forever sharp, its hilt forever brilliant, and its rubies and sapphires and diamonds as clear as Raven's eyes when she was speaking the truth. (Which, for those who had never been graced by her unearthly presence, was comparable to, but actually even clearer than, the tranparence of Deer Park bottled spring water.)

When the woman heartlessly taunted her about her grievous loss, Raven could not stand by and take it anymore. This woman was not her sister's killer--Raven would know her sister's murderer as soon as she set eyes on him by the excrutiating burn in her spleen--but she was in league with them. And because she was a Hunter, Raven was in every way justified in taking her down. Everyone knew the Hunters were soulless, irrevocably evil bastards who kicked puppies and terrorized small children. Except for those who found true love--with an Innocent, of course, because it was impossible to find true love with anyone else--and experienced a complete and entirely unprecendented change of heart.

Raven's voice, brimming with anguish, would have reduced anyone with a heart to tears on the spot. "Monsters. You're all monsters." Her sister had been sweet and unselfish and pure (though oddly enough, Raven couldn't really remember much else about her personality). What had she ever done to those cruel, horrible Hunters?

Spinning the dagger in the air with an impressive flourish at the end, Raven lunged at the woman, blade aimed for her belly. Because that would kill her instantly, right?

[Fulong|Clara]

There was something...off about this woman. Onji couldn't quite put her finger on it, but it hadn't escaped her notice, like the slightly off aftertaste she sometimes got after biting into a stale marshmallow. It wasn't enough to detract from the overall flavor, but it was there. Although in retrospect, that probably wasn't the right simile to use, because she quite liked stale marshmallows and she most definitely did not like Drama Lady.

But it was entertaining, really, watching the rage on the woman's face shift to tearful melodrama and back to rage. Onji hummed slightly in amusement, shifting her feet. This might actually be fun. In fact, it was entirely possible this wasn't such a bum deal after all.

"Might be," she said noncommittally. "But I rather hasten to add that I'm not the one screwing up the environment around here. Honestly, do you lot even know what a food web is?"

The spinning dagger was impressive, but the flourish at the end most definitely was not. It was superfluous and unnecessary; what was more, it told Onji precisely when the woman was going to attack. She retreated immediately, putting the chair between herself and Drama Lady; the dagger sank into the chair back with a satisfying thunk. Somewhere between realization and movement she had switched from horse stance to en garde. Her sifu was probably going to kill her.

Oh well.

Taking advantage of the momentary pause in action, she shot forward, one clenched fist swinging forward in a right hook at the woman's chin.

[ECS NPC]

Of course Raven knew what a damn food web was. What did this woman take her for, an air-headed Mary-Sue? She had taken private schooling for many years and learned most, if not all, the food webs of the world by the age of eight. After private school, she had entered the public high school system and became the most popular girl there, despite not even trying, and all those other girls were so jealous that she got all the guys. She had paid absolutely no attention to any of them, except for the apple of every female's eye; Eduardo.

Just as Raven flung the dagger in a perfectly straight line, the woman retreated, throwing a chair between herself and the jewel-crusted blade. She saw Yueying's attack long before it came, and she sidestepped it and avoided the rookie move completely, not a single hair out of place. Raising her hand, the mystical dagger glowed a mystical green and instantly came flying back to her, landing in her palm and fit like the pieces to a puzzle.

Turning on her heels, she again pointed the dagger at the stranger. Along with martial arts, she was number one anywhere when it came to handling a dagger, being taught since she could hold a blade. Even the coldest, most experienced, cynical of weaponry masters were greatly impressed by her skill at such a young age and soon it had been she who was teaching them.

The next shot was going to hit Yueying dead on because this dagger was drawn to evil, and any Hunter was definitely evil beyond recuperation. Another perfect throw sent it sailing through the air effortlessly, flawlessly. There was, after all, never any fault with anything Raven did, and anything she messed up was mostly due to another's clumsiness.

[Fulong|Clara]

Onji hadn't expected the attack to actually hit, and she recovered her balance quickly, landing firmly back in horse stance. Unlike Raven, her bangs had started to escape her ponytail, and she shook them out of the way with a snort of irritation.

And then her eyes widened, not in shock or disbelief, but in exasperation as the dagger glowed and flew back to Drama Lady's hand. So that was the unidentifiable mystery aftertaste behind the stale marshmallow. Superpowers. Actual fucking superpowers.

"You have got to be kidding me," she deadpanned, even as Drama Lady pointed the dagger at her. "Don't you people have some sort of code of honor about magic shit or something? Or does that not apply to Hunters?"

She didn't wait to hear the answer, but instead ducked and rolled as the dagger thudded into the wall right behind where she'd been standing. The thing about Drama Lady, she decided, was that she had really fucking good aim. The other thing, though, and this was the good bit, was that she was angry and she attacked like she was in a drama or a play. You could see all her moves coming a mile away, and that was probably the only reason why Onji was alive right now. All she had to do was keep her angry.

"Nice throw, dipshit! Did your dead family person teach you how to do that? Cos you throw like they do! And they're dead!"

[ECS NPC]

It wasn't magic shit. (Raven would usually never sully her mouth with such language, but those were the woman's words, not hers, so Raven was absolved of any wrongdoing.) It was an ancient magic, more ancient than the talismans themselves, passed down from generation to generation through only the purest of bloodlines. Only the purest of heart could wield the enchanted blades; she was the first in many centuries to have this power. Even her sweet sister, the angel that she was, had not had the strength to carry such a burden. The task of ridding the world of Hunters fell to Raven, and Raven alone.

The dagger, though it flew straight and true despite not being weighted correctly to be a throwing knife, missed its mark. But Raven had known it would. There had been the slightest hint of a breeze blowing through the open door, and that had deflected the blade from its mark. The woman's evasive manuever would have amounted to nothing had luck not been on her side. The next time, the dagger would pierce her heart and spill her life's blood while Raven stood triumphant and unremorseful over her, knowing that her sister's spirit was proud of her.

And then the woman, the evil monster that she was, defiled her sister's memory. "Don't you dare talk about my sister that way," Raven gasped, eyes flashing crimson and black in rage.

With a despairing wail like a banshee trying to belt Christine Daae's high notes in The Phantom of the Opera that was nonetheless so full of unquenchable sorrow that a rock would have wept at its sound, Raven tore the dagger out of the wall. It took her no effort even though it was buried to the hilt in solid wood.

"You'll pay for everything you've done!" she cried, and the dagger flew out of her hand as straight as a sparrow just about to run into a clean window.

[Fulong|Clara]

This time Onji kicked a chair within reach and yanked it between Drama Lady and herself, grunting slightly as the dagger tore through the chair back with surprising force. What was the point of throwing a dagger round all day when you had to retrieve it every single time? Granted, it made things easier if you had super special sparkly awesome powers so you didn't actually have to run and get it, but it was a waste of effort, and every time you threw it and you missed, you stood the chance of giving your opponent a free weapon. Like, for example, now.

Onji wrenched the dagger out of the chair, forced sneer still plastered all over her face. She didn't usually like sneering, since it made her look slightly constipated, but it was the idea of it she was going for here. And sneering tended to make people angry, didn't it?

"Your dead sister, huh?" she said, testing the blade. The balance was good, but it was entirely too heavy for her taste; the stupid rocks tacked onto the hilt and the gold encrusting everything made it cumbersome and completely unlike the switchblade she'd forgotten to bring. Besides, if she stabbed the woman here, there would be blood all over the place. The important thing right now was to get the weapon away from her.

"Well, whoever she was, she probably deserved it, if she was anything like you! And now she's dead! I bet it's your fault, isn't it, that she's dead? It's usually your fault when people die, isn't it! Did I mention your sister's dead? I figured I might as well say that one more time!"

She was straying dangerously close to verbal diarrhea now, but it was the tone that counted. Dashing out from behind the chair, she vaulted over the table and lunged headfirst at the girl, hoping to catch her in the face. She had never really liked Andrew Lloyd Webber.

[ECS NPC]

The woman's tone mocked as she inquired about Raven's sister. Anger boiled inside her as her eyes turned blacker then the blackest of black coals and it felt as if a volcano was about to go off. Raven was in no way at fault for her sister's death, it was all of this woman's kind; the Hunters, they were the maniacs responsible for all the wrong in the world.

Of course, it was a given that Raven was never at fault for anything. She had the serene grace of a walrus in the water. Though she could be a bit clumsy at times, it was a charming, fall-into-boy's-arms type of clumsy. Her sister wasn't even as awesome as she was, and that was saying something. Of course, she would stay modest about it, and had no idea why people would rain compliments down on her.

This Yueying Huang woman, who was still obviously using a fake name, had her weapon now. The weapon, however, belonged to her and only her and as a result, it was only sharp when it was her. The magic dagger obeyed no other, and its magic would work with no other as well. Especially not with Hunters, those loathsome creatures of the earth.

Then she lunged at Raven, but she easily spotted it and jumped aside. Using her almighty powers passed down to her from her ancestors before humans even existed, she summoned help, and help came a moment later. Help came in the form of a large white tiger made of mist that could be controlled by her, with glowing orange eyes and the softest pelt ever felt. A few words in an ancestral tongue and the beast leapt at the Asian woman, fog swirling around it all the while.

"Take that!" Raven was already planning the victory.

[Fulong|Clara]

Onji had passed the point where she even bothered to care about what the woman was throwing at her. It was all reflexes now, regardless of what turned up next. As long as she was on autopilot, she could probably take on anything.

It was what she'd done in Toronto, what she'd done in Baltimore when she knew where too much thinking could lead her. Sometimes it was better just to feel your way through a situation.

When the tiger appeared, she didn't even blink, only caught herself as she rushed past Raven and pivoted, letting the dagger swing downward at the tiger's face. Even autopilot couldn't keep the surprise from her features when the blade tore through the creature easily and Onji, carried by momentum, stumbled right through the tiger and nearly into Drama Lady.

It was the closest she'd been to the woman thus far, and probably the only chance she'd get. Yanking her scarf off, she whipped it around Drama Lady's neck and pulled, a slightly manic gleam in her eyes.

"Take what?" she said, grinning a little too widely for comfort as she tightened her grip on the scarf. "Mist shaped like a tiger? It's only shaped like a tiger, you know, not built like one."

[ECS NPC]

Instead of cowering in fear and awe at Raven's magnificent power like all others who had had the great fortune of witnessing it, the woman rushed toward her. But of course she didn't react--Hunters like this woman were soulless and incapable of feeling any emotion. (Somehow, though, the good majority of them still managed to be impressed by Raven's elite skills and held a grudging respect for her, since they knew without a doubt that nothing could get in the way of her noble quest. And of course, all the men among them were completely enamored by her heavenly, unearthly beauty that was not of this earth.)

But somehow, the Asian woman, with the pure power of her evil, sliced straight through her tiger. But that didn't matter; Raven had more than enough energy to summon an entire army of creatures that would love her and kiss her perfect toes and defend her with their very lives. All she had to do was call up the ancestral power once more...

But by some impossible fluke, the intruder had gotten her scarf around Raven's neck. Her furious yet impassioned cry was brutally cut short when the woman pulled the ends tight, bruising her exquisitely smooth skin. Which was unforgiveable, even if Raven would recover completely afterwards (while everyone worried themselves sick over her) and her perfection would once again be flawless.

Like a trout gasping soundlessly for air, she gasped soundlessly for air. Instead of flopping helplessly, however, she reached up to unwind the scarf from around her neck. Though she looked so skinny that she could be anorexic, she possessed the strength of twenty silverback gorillas. This woman might have the upper hand now, but she had grossly underestimated Raven, and that would prove to be her downfall. Because good always triumphed over evil, right?

Right?

[Fulong|Clara]

"You're being awfully quiet," hissed Onji, the slightly manic grin still on her face as she tightened the chokehold. "Cat got your tongue?"

She'd been asked before why she'd chosen to stay a Hunter, why she hadn't broken ties with a family that had all but forced her to become a killer, and the standard answer was of course that betraying the family was unthinkable in her culture. But the truth of the matter was simply that she liked it. She had almost always liked it. There was something deeply wrong, she knew, with liking the feel of someone else's life in her hands. She didn't need a medical degree to know that. But it brought an adrenaline high you couldn't get anywhere else, and it brought the money rolling in.

Maybe one day she'd get that checked out. Maybe one day pigs would fly.

It wasn't saying much, but Drama Lady was stronger than she looked, and she was already struggling to claw the scarf from her neck. Onji's grin widened. Not much time to act now; she had a few seconds before Drama Lady was free again, and even less than that if she wanted her scarf to escape unscathed. She liked her scarf.

The dagger in her other hand flashed cold against her palm. If she could get one good stab in without removing the blade, there wouldn't be any blood to speak of for a considerable time. Enough to get her out of the cabin and into the woods for the cleanup. A neat job. The woman's hands would be preoccupied with the scarf. Onji considered.

Even a few drops of blood wouldn't be enough to trace the killer, she reasoned, especially if she did a thorough cleanup job. It was the work of a moment to pull the woman closer and slide the dagger between her ribs. With luck, there would be a check on its way tonight.

[ECS NPC]

The Hunter tightened the scarf around around Raven's neck. Her face was beginning to turn an imperfect shade of blue, so unlike her usual creamy ivory complexion (that turned to a healthy tan the moment Raven required it) that was the envy of supermodels from around the world. This would not do. To sully Raven's perfection in any way was unacceptable, unless it was to give her a noticeable yet quite inconsequential scar that would be the subject of unending angst for many chapters to come. But in the end, she would realize that she was even more beautiful with the scar, since it made her look mysterious and experienced far beyond her years.

She again called upon her hidden strength--equivalent to that of a two hundred pound orangutan--to tear the ugly scarf (all the Hunters and everything they possessed were ugly, of course) from her delicate throat. But something went wrong. Terribly, horribly, disastrously, awfully, dreadfully, fearfully, despicably, wretchedly, horridly wrong. As wrong as calling a certain series of bestselling novels containing sparkling wannabe vampires 'literature'.

A dagger--her own dagger!--protruded from her perfect breast. Raven did not remember it getting there. Then again, she was probably too absorbed in reflecting upon how wonderful she was to have noticed the Hunter stabbing her.

A wordless cry escaped from Raven's coral lips, which really ought to have been impossible considering the inappropriately colorful scarf currently constricting her airway, but logic was never of any import in the face of Raven's flawless perfection, so she managed to make the most beautiful, heart-rending, agonized cry ever to fall upon the ears of any living being. The heavens themselves would weep at the sound, as well as all manners of furry woodland creature within earshot, and perhaps a dandelion or two would shed their petals in mourning.

She fell like one of those things that bounce back up no matter how hard you punch it, except she didn't bounce back up. Her Deer Park bottled water-clear eyes glazed over, but not before a single diamond teardrop rolled down her cheek and fell to the floor, much like a frozen turkey dropped off the edge of a cliff. Raven de Santiago was dead.

The day remained tolerably sunny, a pair of squirrels promptly forgot the earlier scream and continued to chase each other around a tree, and the dandelions really didn't give a shit.