D. Gray-man: Alternate Universe? Try Time Travel!:
Chapter 33: She Racks DISCIPRINE!
AN: All I have to say is Happy New Year for y'all! And that I would appreciate it if you voted on my poll and reviewed my story.
~XXX~
Moore
~XXX~
"So, what do menstruating individuals such as yourself do for fun?"
Moore gave the same face I had seen at least a thousand times in the four minutes I had been there; the one in where it was clear that she wanted to murder me but held herself back, more than likely due to the Earl's orders.
"I won't disclose anything about myself so long as you are being so…so…so…" She struggled to find the word to perfectly capture me, so I substituted for her.
Aren't I a nice guy?
"Sexy? Hot? Amazing? All of the above? None of the above since language can't capture my magnificent nature enough?" I offered.
Cue her twitching eyebrow. "That."
I smirked. "That's me. I'm a magnificent bastard, baddest mofo ever to exist past present AND future to you, and if you can't handle my obviously superior personality compared to your one-faced pissed off one, well…if you can't handle the heat, get back in the Kitchen."
As most would imagine, I hit a nerve. "Listen you twerp, the only reason you can still talk right now is because the Millennium Earl ordered me to try and get to know you before I start hitting you. Like last time."
"Last time?" I tested. "To him, there shouldn't be a last time. I covered for you as a way of extending the hand of friendship without actually extending a hand that at the time I had reason to believe you would snap off and play with like a chew toy. So, unless he hath telekinesis, I don't understand how he would know." The infernal contraption that was my mind smacked it all together at that instant. "You told him, then. Must have. Didn't you?"
She suddenly found the wall very interesting. "I didn't tell him. I honestly don't know how he found out, but he just said that I 'shouldn't hit people before getting to know them more, no matter how infuriating they are'. Doesn't stop me from wanting to wring your neck, though."
I lying to cover my own ass and keep that card about me being able to make a fake Millennium Earl close to my chest was apparently a waste, then. I thought. Hm…maybe not, actually.
I sighed, and retorted "to be honest, I would have done the same thing if I were you as well. Here's this little bugger just comes waltzing on in and doesn't apologize for bumping into you. I would have been annoyed to, so I've forgiven you for it." Ahem, cough cough no I haven't cough cough.
Wow, cold must be going around.
Now, her gaze was upon my face, forcing its way into it in a bid to find truth. "Truly? You've forgiven me?"
I made a dismissive gesture. "It isn't a big deal. I'm sorry for colliding into you and whatnot. My mistake." Bullshitting; also known as calming down violent women 101.
Her turn to smirk came then. "If you truly mean what you say, then fight me. After all, the old Noah proverb goes you don't know a woman until you have a fist fight with her."
Before I could even scream "LUL SKYRIM REFERENCE WAIT WUT" at the top of my lungs she was dragging me to what I presumed was my doom. Why didn't I attempt to escape?
A reason or one. And I actually did, yes.
My reason was if I said that I didn't mean what I say, she would get pissed and beat me. Again.
My attempt was foiled quite quickly in fact, and the only thing it did accomplish in the train-wreck that was the attempt itself was making her angrier. "Stop struggling. It's getting annoying."
"That's funny. I remember saying that to YOUR MOTHER LAST NI- WOOOOAH!" My words were interrupted by the sudden change in direction, and altitude, on my half.
She threw me into a room. Face first.
Upon collision with the ground did I realise just how hard it was. The thing was made of stone, and moments after touching my face did I realise that I was bleeding, alongside there being a trail of blood from my face making a perfect line across the room with further inspection of the area.
"The heck is this place…?" I spoke to myself, already feeling the swelling temptation to taste the blood. Just once.
"This is my training room. Using it, I practice my combat skills. It's a great way to let off steam as well. Two birds, one stone."
Cue slow clap.
"That pun hurts worse than the stones currently ground into my face. Speaking of which, OW! YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO THROW ME! I UNDERSTAND TRYING TO SHOW OFF BUT COME ON! THIS IS MY FACE WE'RE TALKING ABOUT! I HAVE A POTENTIAL MODELLING CAREER WITH THIS!" I said with a voice filled with fury, and also slight sadness whilst pointing-at/gingerly-rubbing my face.
"Shut up." She uttered simply, casting aside her coat and revealing the same dress shirt she wore when I met her in her own home. At least, that was what I thought at the time.
"I DON'T DO REQUESTS! I DO DO WOMEN THOUGH, AND YOU'RE LOOKING PRETTIER BY THE MINUTE!" I retorted as I retrieved a some-what battle-y stance. (Whilst I can show off my power due to my sync rate and not have to worry about explanations, experience I can't explain.)
In the resulting silence and hollowness of the room, one could have heard the sound of a butterfly flapping its wings.
Or the sound of a small, slow burning flame.
Moore blinked as she could have sworn on her life that she heard a slight crackling coming from behind her. She was intending to see what it was, however due to the opponent in front of her she couldn't afford to.
What a mistake that it was.
"Check, Moore." Flowed from my mouth in confident tones as I moved out of my stance, and gestured for my flame clone to cock the gun.
The sound managed to give Moore a pretty good indicator of the situation she was in.
"The clone can kill you faster than you could ever hope of blinking. You've lost, Moore. Before this battle's even started." I said as I walked towards the door, intention plain as day to leave.
"Where do you think you're going?" Moore said self-assurance gleaming and very evident.
"What are you so smug about?" I tested, entirely sure that she was up to something.
"Nothing. Beyond the obvious fact that you underestimated your opponent." Before my guard could even be raised Moore had grabbed me and used me as a shield between her and my clone.
Clever, clever woman…waiting until I was close and unguarded. Very clever.
The clone, being just that, wasn't sure of where to tread with its actions. Its aim was still head level, directly at mine to be exact given exactly how Moore was using me as a shield.
"Order the clone to disperse, or I behead you. This is still a fist fight, as intended." Her voice travelled elegantly and menacingly into my close ears.
"Wouldn't beheading me go against the fist-fighting setting you've set?" A retort came easy; dissuading the thought of this woman killing me then and there was not.
"Who said that I would something other than my hands?" Yeah, you all can just ponder what that means.
At least if I'm going to die, I'm going to be dead at the hands of a woman with a killer line. Ha, puns even to the end. I thought. Might as well do as she says if I still want my head.
"Fine fine. Clone, disperse." I ordered.
The ordered person in question pouted. "Aww, can't I exist for a little bit longer~~?"
"No. Disperse." I reiterated much to the clones chagrin.
With a groan, the clone did as ordered, and re-joined with Innocence in my hand. I flexed the muscle, getting it back in working order before saying to Moore "you can let me go now."
The Noah, or the female one anyway, did so, and I took my place a ways away from her. She made a stance of her own, and even from a place on high you could feel the tension of both sides waiting for one another to move. Every twitch, every adjustment, everything was watched with careful eyes in order to find a crack in the movement. An opportunity to seize. A position to take and hold.
The first strike, in a nutshell in a fight.
And then as you would expect we struck each other, fists colliding.
And then as you would expect, me not really being accustomed to going fist to fist to a Noah, keeled over in pain.
Cue me falling to floor rubbing my knuckles. "OW OW OW OW OW!" I whined as I rolled on my back, similar to a tortoise when trying to get itself off its back, Moore's sweatdrop was most obvious. "ARE YOUR FREAKING KNUCKLES MADE OF STEEL WOMAN? OWWWWWW-" at that point my stature changed, and threw Moore through the loop, "just kidding," as I did so literally (Conjured flaming loop, ho!) to her, her sweat drop comically staying in place before gravity took its toll on it.
She reconnected with the ground a small distance away, but enough so that she was farther than a few yards. "As an Exorcist, I've had worse to deal with than that. I know a thing or two about evasion, and if you insist on hand to hand I simply have to make sure you don't hit me. Simple." Cue me cracking me neck like a total baller and then wincing as it actually made my neck feel worse. "Now, hit me with your best shot!" I shouted, tapping my chest in a proclaiming manner. "You won't survive if you don't come at me like you intend to kill me. Run, strafe, fight, punch and kick and claw and slice and tear and break and crush and destroy and annihilate! Do all these things, and then some, and you might stand a chance in your one-sided battle against me. Might. I don't guarantee your survival, even in my defeat. Still want to fight? Your undisputed funeral, Moore."
With fiery fury, antagonistic anger, hostile hate, malevolent malice and an innumerably infinite thousand other alliterations, we began our fight proper, and fiercer.
I punched. She ducked. She retaliated. I leaned. Fists were flying, we were weaving, blows were landing, blows were missing, grunts of pain were made, and grunts of effort were made. All the ingredients of a past boiling point fight were mixed together, and boy were they sizzling.
"YOU HIT LIKE A GIRL!" Moore taunted, as I copped a blow on her leg.
"I'M NOT EVEN SURE YOUR MOTHER IS ONE AFTER LAST NIGHT!" I counter-taunted as I absorbed a blow aimed for my face with my hand.
Something other than a lip cracked at that, and I was pretty sure it was on Moore's end.
She screamed akin to the most animalistic of savage monsters, and I barely managed to get away from her in time to save my arm, which she almost broke in that instance.
Without form or technique or even style, Moore ran for my head, and nearly succeeded in collecting it had I not ducked under the blow. Her ensuing barrage of ferocious fists gained a piece of pace for every single blow countered or deflected, and if she went any faster and harder then not only would I have no choice but to say that's what she said, but also to not hold back.
Since I was by the way. I'm not that weak, thank you.
Soon enough her speed overcame my reaction time, and I had no choice lest I wanted to blow my cover however to let the blows reach me. The blows and bruises stacked a mile high, and that increased by the second, and rapidly at that. The fists of the woman were impossible to distinguish from one another, and at one point of undiscernible origin they ended up appearing as though there was an armada's worth of hands, great in number and force.
As most would understand, or have realised by now, things weren't going all that well for me, by the time I was uppercutted into the air and then forced into the floor I could feel unconsciousness nipping at the back and sides of my mind most certainly.
Groaning and bleeding, I acquired my footing, and learning form past mistakes I grasped the blow designated as my destroyer. "Tykki already tried spawn camping, and I just got Server Spawn Protection!" I said in defiance as I used what strength I had that wasn't Noah level (I might not be awakened but I'm still above normal in that regard) left to push her hand back, and proceeded to the retaliation and or reiteration of my domination. (Ooooooh you know I was pissed when I was breaking out the big words so~~~n.)
Understanding her moves with my awesome intellect, I countered beyond the human reaction time, I countered before they even began, and as such her attacks were negated swiftly and efficiently. Case in point following the blow I grasped, she tried to punch me directly (You just activated my Adamcard – Adam) only to hit air as I evaded with the greatest of ease and pulled her arm behind her back, restricting her. She thrashed, and I bashed via grasping the back of her head and going with a full dental check-up; the floor as my utensils.
With sheer brute force however, after the first ground collision she flipped over, sending me to the stone beneath me instead and disorienting me temporarily.
It was long enough for her to get into an advantageous position over me in where she had her legs on both my side and her body over mine.
"Usually I'm the one on top." I quipped as I blocked, or tried as best I could, Moore's aggressive attacks as fast as they came.
Whether she could hear me or not became irrelevant after one particularly bad blow to the side of my head, which collided with my temple.
Now it was I who could not hear. Nor could I see anything in particular. It was a daze, a familiar daze, but a daze I could not escape with her barrage still going on nonetheless. The glows, if it was possible, seemed to disintegrate the molecules in the room and then rebind them via melting them back together as it gradually became less and less detailed, and far more blurred. All my will went into resisting, to protecting myself and averting unconsciousness, however all struggling became pointless and or impossible within seconds of trying.
"I feel unconscious…" I mumbled shortly before a blow caught my jaw and I was willing to bet cracked it, preventing further speech.
My consciousness was given one last push as a fist connected violently with my face in of itself, and the all-consuming all too familiar darkness of unconscious claimed my vision.
{Arise, Majestic Phoenix!}
The first sensation going through me upon awakening was simple anguish. The kind you get from having a broken jaw and face, of which I had reason to believe I had. Secondary to that was a sensation of cooling; cooling over all of the areas that anguish had a hold of.
It might have been long ago that I felt it, but similar to how one doesn't forget the feeling of what started them down the path to self-destruction, I never forgot the cooling sensation's particular touch. The way it felt like ice was applied to my skin in waves, like a refreshing drink for a thirst that could not be quenched, or like a butt-load of Innocence interweaving itself into my skin, however that's basically saying X feels like X.
Oh. Right. I was supposed to be poetic about it. Never mind.
Anyway, my secondary feeling that was quickly becoming primary on my list of sensations (Currently two long) was more or less regeneration in a felt form. A picking-myself-off-the-ground later did I decide to see what was happening ot my face, and judging from Moore's expression, of who had backed off when I started spewing flames in all directions due to my Innocence, it wasn't good.
I lightly touched my face, almost acting as if I was expecting to jump up and bite me, which it could considering Innocence was involved, and found nothing physically changed. My face was my face.
At least to my sense of touch.
I called out to Moore, saying "what's wrong with my face?"
She, with obvious hesitance and, strangely fear, replied "y-your face…"
"What about it?" I said, gesturing for her continue.
"It's…it's…"
"Sexy? Unbelievably hot? Remarkably well-toned? All of the above? Another descriptor? What? What's wrong with my face?" I suggested FORWARD SLASH asked. See? I said forward slash. Therefore, no slash, and also therefore, no shipping. SUCK IT SUGGESTED AND ASKED SHIPPERS!
"Black…
…it's Black…"
(SORT OF) ~OMAKE~ (THINGY)
Wait. I just realised something.
You had a thought, Baron? OH MY GOD WE HAVE CAUSE FOR CELEBRATION!
Shut up. I'm speaking seriously here.
Fine then Killjoy. What is it?
If the Black Order uniforms have skirts instead of pants, then how did Kanda and his doppelganger bang like wild monkeys if they didn't remove their skirts?
*Mind numbing silence* I…I think you stumbled across one of the things in life that people don't want an answer to.
Agreed. Oh so agreed. Help me bury this train of thought would you?
Okay then. Uh…oh! I know!
Ahem
If you ate the Millennium Earl when he was cooked, what would that make you, since you ARE the Millennium Earl?
Uhhhhhhhh fug it I'll Google it. Okay, 'would eating myself be cannibalism?'
*Clicketyclackityclicketyclac kety* Ah-hah! According to the post by this one anonymous user, it isn't!
Baron.
Yes?
You're the anonymous user.
No I'm not, how can you insinuate-
I saw you post the message on the discussion board. I'm the one who created it, even.
Oh.
Wanna sing a song to commemorate your absolute failure in life?
Blow me.
Your mother does.
Bite me.
She does that too when she's feeling kinky.
Fuck you.
Your mother has.
In the ass.
I'm trying that out this afternoon on your mother.
With a pitchfork.
Great metaphor for the size of my man parts, Baron.
That's one fire.
It feels like after an all-night session.
I'm not going to win this am I?
Took that long to realise my obvious superiority? Wow, you is blind, and I don't mean the Chinaman from Rush Hour 3.
Fuck you all, I'm out.
Laterz, you MLP: FIM watching, George Lucas' d*ck sucking, Old man and Fatass.
And, by the way, I left 20 dollars behind on the counter last night. Mind getting it for me? It's the end of the chapter after all.
Wait, what? AUTHOR YOU SON OF A BI-
(SORT OF) ~OMAKE END~ (THINGY)
AN: Heh, now it's Adam's turn to get stopped mid-sentence.
I think I enjoy my job/hobby too much.
Uhhhhh- no, I don't think so. *Shoves the recently fallen out of closet corpse of Morgan Freeman back in*
Anyway,
See y'all next chapter.
Ciao for now.