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Preferred Name: offspring
Pronouns: they/them
Character Name: Newt
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Post by Newton on Aug 10, 2015 0:49:24 GMT -5
[/i]. It was raining. The usual stench of the slums hung around in the air (the mold of the walls, rising sludge from the sewer, sweat and other bodily fluids), made overbearing by the humidity of the falling rain, and Newt was drenched in it as he ran. He ran and ran, powerful and metal-encased legs pushing him along as his target skims atop the layer of water, running away from the police officer and combat extraordinaire that was Isaakc Newton. Newt was fast-- but his target knew the lay of the land. They round a corner and he follows, too caught up in the rush to do anything but laugh, determinedly. Newt catches a glimpse of the culprit running into a nearby alleyway and again, he follows. The streets are almost completely bare, Newt notes absentmindedly as he hops over a short concrete wall, no people to run into, no noises of conversation... It's odd. The windows, at least the ones with shutters, are closed and quiet-- not even children are running through the maze called the slums. Newt makes a clicking noise to try and echolocate, but it's no use. There are too many buildings to bounce off of, too much reverberation, too much echo.[/font] "Hey hey, now, don't try to get away!" Newt calls after him, as the guy jerks into another alleyway.
There sure are a lot of curves to this little man chase. It's not as if the thing he was caught doing was even that scandalous: graffiti on the walls isn't exactly law-breaking, but still pretty stupid. Especially when Newt's on shift. He should be getting bored, what with the running and the minor offense, not worth it, but if anything he's even more spurred; just to have the feeling of catching the mouse when the guy tires out. Because Newt never tires. And this guy, he has to give out sometime! And Newt will be there to slap him around. Just a little. [/ul] |
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Post by Enchilada on Aug 10, 2015 18:25:34 GMT -5
[/span] slap slap slap of desperate footsteps and ragged breathing not two houses away, pursued by the pounding splashes of an eager cougar quickly gaining on his prey.
They were so easy to see from Kris's perch on a corrugated rooftop, the first wearing a black hoodie and a familiar shock of blue hair, the second a blonde stranger in the garb of an officer. He wasn't sure what the kid had done to incur the wrath of a police officer, but he was a good kid, and Kris would get in trouble with his ma if he'd been there and done nothing to stop his arrest.
Tsk. A tongue clicked audibly in the heartbeat before the blue-haired boy slipped on the slick stones coated with who-knows-what, and Kris could see his impending doom at his persistent pursuer. It couldn't be helped, Kris thought with a mental sigh. A hop and a skip over a couple roofs, steps muffled mostly by the dreary weather and Kris was just above the two of them. There was no hesitation in his jump off the edge of the roofing, coat flapping noisily in the few moments before he landed with a heavy splash in front of blondie.
Without taking his eyes away from the cop, Kris tilted his head and called out to the other kid, irritation lacing his voice. "Go home."
That was a pretty cool move on his part, huh? He'd always wanted to be kind of a hero. He'd had several go's at it already, but it was always a thrill when another chance came up.
"Sorry," he addressed the young man in front of him. "Can't let you get him quite yet."
[/ul] |
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Post by Newton on Aug 11, 2015 21:07:28 GMT -5
[/font] Newt had to laugh; why would he not? Wiping at the slick rivulets of rain on his brow with a free hand (god, it was wet, wasn't it?), Newt slows his step into almost a stop, approaching the kid closer and closer, watching the expression on his face contort into fear with an itch beginning to trickle into his knuckles. The police gear weighs a lot more than it usually does because of the amount of rain it's absorbed, running in it, and briefly, Newt considers shedding it. Shed all of the evidence of police academy right off of himself until his skin was pure again. Policework, policework. It was disgusting.His breathing is nearly even; having a kangaroo's endurance pays off, despite the heavy drawbacks, and after chasing this man for a while, it helps to be on the upper hand when it comes to this. That is, getting ready to beat the fuck out of him. Newt almost feels sorry for the guy, the little offender, what with the young face and scared eyes, hearing every stuttered breath he takes. Newt doesn't say anything. Oh, the fear pouring out is so palpable! Newt feels the itch wander away, what to his surprise, and begin to morph into a different desire; he wants to--Then all of a sudden, another person (from the roof?) comes down inbetween the boy and Newt, effectively cutting the cat from the mouse, a spatter of puddle hitting them both in the process. A flare of irritation washes away all other thoughts and feelings that he had, though his face betrays nothing, and instead Newt sets sights on this kid, who's ruining his good fun. White hair, grey eyes-- maybe a little bit of green? Whoever he is, he is in the way. Newt's peeved that he couldn't pick up on this tail earlier; it must have been the tunnel vision again. Or it's the rain, drowning out ambient noise. Running atop the roofs is so obvious, god he's stupid.Newt simply watches his target scramble away when commanded by the white-haired one (familiar?), gaze focused, until the jacketed back is gone for good, around a corner. And then, his eyes flicker to the other one, the remaining one. Practically burning a hole right through the guy. A good, buzzing feeling creeps up his fingers and into his arms-- and now he does smile, a feral thing with his canines especially prominent; let's see, what to do with this guy? The one who has enough balls to interrupt his fun. It was just starting to get interesting. ...Maybe it still will. "I'm sorry?" Newt mocks, tilting his head a bit in feigned ignorance, "I shouldn't get him yet because, what, you're feeling a little brave? I did catch him scrawling graffiti on the walls for the third time, you know. I think that warrants an arrest." Aka, a brutal thrashing. But never mind that. The braces on his legs make a small clicking noise as Newt changes his posture in one fluid motion; dominant foot in front of the other, fingers outstretched. On the offensive. The following smile makes Newt's eyes almost narrow, teeming with fresh and pungent threat. "Are you thinking of obstructing my way?"[/ul] |
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Post by Enchilada on Aug 12, 2015 16:16:03 GMT -5
[/i]." Kris let out a short laugh. "Since when did you care so much about the slums?" That one settling movement snapped Kris's attention fully back to the blonde, his pose and his menacing eyes exuding an aura that put Kris's awareness on maximum, and suddenly he understood why the kid had run away with such haste, suddenly forgave him for looking like such a sloppy idiot. It took all Kris had not to take a few steps back in response, for if he did, he would be admitting the dominance of the other at least for the first few seconds, and that was an advantage he wasn't willing to give to the other. But oh god, he wanted to run so bad, his legs itching to take him far, far away from a fight he didn't know if he could win - even if the cop looked younger - far away from a vicious ending he didn't want to be a part of. (Pain was hella painful, yknow? And, he might die...or worse, expelled) But from what he'd seen from above, there was no way he was going to be able to outrun this guy. Kris's eyes narrowed, glinting at the cop with head tilted downwards, lips twisting into what looked like a sneer as he shifts into a defensive forward-facing stance, hands finally out of his pockets. "Thinking? I think it's working, don't you agree?" And he waits, time ticking slowly in the calm before the storm.[/ul] |
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Post by Newton on Aug 12, 2015 21:49:55 GMT -5
[/i] Newt grins honestly this time, less maliciousness and more amusement, retorting,[/font] "Do you think all policemen just chase after the big baddies all the time? I'm part-grunt, which means I do grunt work. Like patrolling the slums, for example." He nods his head around them, indicating. "Tedious work. I hate it, in fact. But the slums is full of crime if you know where to look, you know. Maybe even the odd scavenger or vigilante lurking around. I've had those." Newt sure doesn't incriminate the boy from earlier out loud, but the glint in his eyes says something all right.
Then he shrugs. The sneer in the other guy's voice doesn't necessarily bother him, neither does the change of stance. It's actually kind of thrilling to see such resentment from a stranger, but it helps to have an excuse when you return with a few injuries from what was supposed to be a regular patrol around the slums. 'A kid threatened me with violence and I had to respond.' Not a complete lie, right? The laugh that escapes Newt's mouth is short and practically all teeth. It doesn't reach his eyes. "You've got some humour. I like that. Makes my work a little less boring. But you're making a big mistake, whoever you are, and I think you know that."
To further accentuate, Newt immediately closes the space between them with what looks to be a long stride (what it actually is, is a short little kick from his back leg) and gets right up into his space. Now, it's natural to bring up the arms in self-defense; that's what Newt anticipates, and he tries to play off of that, if it even works. His left arm attempts to slap one of the other's arms out of the way for a clear way to the chest. Newt is so close for a second that he can almost hear the shutter of the stranger's lungs, can see the wet rivers of rain paint his skin. And then he follows the slap up with a flat palm towards the collarbone.
Now let's see where this guy stands on close combat. [/ul] |
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Post by Enchilada on Aug 13, 2015 21:40:30 GMT -5
[/i] that jars his body and sends droplets flying off his soaking wet hair. Kris lifts a leg as if to adjust for his movement backwards, but instead unleashes a snappy kick at blondie there, now in near perfect range, and grabs at the arm that struck his chest, eyes narrowing against the still-falling rain.[/ul] |
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Post by Newton on Aug 14, 2015 1:08:27 GMT -5
[/i]). And his left hand is weaker, naturally, so it hurts more. The ever-constant rain pelting on them is making the skin too slick to make any grappling effective, but it makes the mood steam a little. [/font]
In standstill for a moment, Newt breathes a short sigh of releasing anger. "Did I not make it obvious that I don't care about either police or the slums?"And then Newt digs his nails into the leg that he's countered, hard, fists his fingers into the fabric of the stranger's shirt, and uses those holds to pull Kris towards himself. In a quick motion, Newt's forehead attempts to meet with the other's in a headbutt, trying to wrangle away from the guy's grasp at the same time. He shoves the offending leg away as soon as he's done with it. If the guy's hold doesn't break, then Newt uses his legs for a first time and lifts his left leg to deliver a kick to Kris' knee. "You, need to fucking chill it," he says, forcing it out of his downturned mouth. "I'm not your therapist, girly. You have a problem with the police, bring it up with them."[/ul] |
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Post by Enchilada on Aug 16, 2015 2:07:19 GMT -5
[/i] with the cop grabbing his shirt. Which he thanked him for, narrowing his range so he could throw a fist at him (letting go of his arm with one hand) but the headbutt comes at him too quickly to move to the side or get out - instead, Kris ducks his head even lower so that his skull meets the cop's nose, wincing as they come into contact with a crack (but at that point his eyes had squeezed shut momentarily in anticipation, so he wasn't sure what exactly he hit - and it was all so fast too) As soon as he feels his leg being released, he quickly moves it to a better stance, securing his balance in the slippery street and pulls with what remaining grip he has on the other's arm, sinking and twisting as he pulls him into an elbow jab to the solar plexus. He feels a sharp pain in his leg and Kris grits his teeth, thanking whatever god was up there (there was none) that the abnormally strong kick hadn't connected with his knee - an injury that might have temporarily crippled his leg if it hadn't sunk into the muscle of his inner thigh (and made him buckle a little, thank goodness he was sturdy on both feet) - even there Kris was shocked at the power the kick contained - what did he have, steel muscles?[/ul] |
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[smear:FF0000]PUN JAIL IS FUN JAIL[/smear:00FF00]