Title: Alternations.
Rating: R.
Pairing: None.
Notes: Die, Bit. :) My grotesque retaliation to the bundle of immature, repetitive 'How To Kill Harry' lists. Which aren't fics. Which are illegal. Um. This was also going to be apart of Getting Somewhere, but I screwed up somewhere along the lines and.. Well. It became separate. It's choppy for this reason, but the point is very clearly put through.
Oh, well. For those curious, a naginata is a Japanese weapon. Sort of like a sword, though not entirely - it's got a very long hilt and a mediocre / small sized blade. It's known for both it's power and grace and frequently used in the state of physical beauty known as kata.
If that still confuses you, just sort of think Freya of Final Fantasy IX. I think she used a naginata.. If that still confuses you, then.. well. Your loss. You'll have to visualize it on your own.
Either way, I want one. @_@
Oh. Two and four kilograms is between five and ten pounds, give or take a few. Leena is OOC, too. But we all know she's a real sadomasochistic freak on the inside, right? A good majority of you people have emphasized that entirely too much; I'm just adding to it.
- - - -
He was always a very quick person, being as that he was short in stature and rather lithe in body form. Though, when your arms were piled with random stolen goods, each amounting to a good two to four kilograms in weight, you couldn't help but lag along slowly and breathlessly.
"Idiot, idiot, idiot." He chided and looked down into his deep, heavy pile. The objects sparkled with jewels, almost literally glowing in the light of the low hanging moon. So beautiful. So expensive. So – much! He risked his life to stea – ah, barrow the cups and plates and rings and necklaces from the palace! He couldn't just dump them! It would be against all of his – well, not morals. A person couldn't possibly have morals when pointlessly stealing from a palace.
He heaved a heavy sigh and ducked his head, tucking into a careful stance before pushing himself into a sprint. Though, his pace was cut short, a sudden, flourished wave of a blade cutting through the air feet before him. He skidded to an abrupt, careful stop, teetering forward and dropping the largest of the five goblets he had pilfered. "Shit –"
"I am so tired of chasing people like you," The owner of the blade snarled and stepped into the area before him, shifting her grip upon the long hilt of the naginata once more to swing it upward. The dull end of the blade collided with the bottom of his cupped arms and he yelped, toppling backward. Everything he once held scattered about the heavily forested area. "Disgusting, filthy bastards, you are!"
"N-No! Honestly, I'm not!" He wailed and curled his arms over his head. Large, still swelling welts formed where the blade had collided with his skin and he visibly cringed. Wanting to keep that from happening once more, or even having his arms lost completely, he forced them behind him and propped himself up right. And, in the process, he was quick to find that from the area around the welts, down, was completely numb.
"Oh, my. You're not?" She mocked and slowly advanced on him, readjusting her grip once more. Now, she held the blade of the naginata at an angle to his throat. One simple jab, or even one abrupt, masochistic slice, and it was – oops! Bye bye, prisoner! "Between the stealing and the running, I honestly couldn't tell!"
"S-See, uh.." He fought to think up a way to get himself out of the situation, though failed to. Pressure wasn't his niche, especially when he had no true way of breaking out and winning. "I –"
"'I'm a liar.'" She finished the sentence for him and lifted the blade up once more. Though, she didn't bring it down and, in the process of this, the thief found the ideal opening to escape. Adjusting his weight, shifting it fully onto his still numb arms, he kicked his left foot out and caught her in the ankles. She teetered, though eventually did fall, the weapon going along with her. The blade of the weapon fell mere inches from her head – she sneered and heaved herself to her feet in time to see him mimic the action and sprint off in a random direction.
"Don't need to tell me twice about the 'liar' deal!" He howled back and kept running. She narrowed her eyes, flushing violently in anger, and tugged the blade from the ground by its hilt.
He was faster than her. It was inevitable – now she had the weight, the thin, though still weighty plates of armor. Though, she new the area. She knew it in the dark. She knew it in the light. She knew every inch of the area and this put him at the largest disadvantage he could ever have! Not allowing any more distance to expand between the both of them, she followed his path and kept the naginata held at an angle behind her.
She could hear him running. Panting and running. Gasping, panting and running, in his attempt to get away. She smiled and slowed, crouching toward the ground once more. His footsteps slowed, though whether they had stopped or not was beyond her senses. The wind fanned through the autumn leaves and she surveyed the area, sparing a brief, gentle whisper, "Such vanity."
To run was to die, after all.
He had stopped – at least, he had stopped running. He wasn't as agile in scampering up the branches of a tree, as opposed to running. He slipped and silently swore, banging his head upon the trunk when his hands were riddled with small slits due to the bark. "God – c'mon, Bit, move – ah, jeez.. OW!"
"I guess you don't know what 'subtle' means, mm?" She rose and began toward him, holding the hilt at ready once more. He looked back at her and let out a frightful wail, attempting to pull himself into the tree once more. "Really, you should stop. Chasing a person who takes away all the fun is really a bore –"
"Oh, shut up," He barked as his hand slipped upon the branch once more, another wail emitting from him. He sneered and broke off a mediocre sized branch, flinging it back at her. "Shove it, lady. You don't understand how it is –"
"Really?"
"Really." He mocked, his voice raised in tone to feign a falsetto. She narrowed her eyes in annoyance and stopped feet before him and the tree, just in case if her problem did have a brain and did decide to attack back once more. He took no time in doing just as she suspected he would, and diving backward off of the tree and toward her. Instead of full on colliding with her, he fell back first against her knees, the rest of him nuzzled greatly into the damp ground below.
Though, because of his weight, she found her knees buckling awkwardly and her balance tipping out from beneath her once more. She caught herself in mid fall, much to his dismay, as now his backside and back both were aching. Instead of keeping herself upright, however, her arm buckled. Her elbow grew weak and she fell completely back, losing her grip upon the weapon and temporarily becoming dazed.
Once more, he took the silent offer at retaliation. Despite his current pains, he was to his feet and instantly sent a violent barrage of kicks toward her abdomen. It may have been covered in a mild, thin coating of armor, though it wouldn't withstand constant attacking.
She withstood the attacks for quite a while, as he had supposed she would, though eventually she began to recoil in pain. She moaned briefly and curled her arms about her stomach, attempting to divert his attention, even if only temporarily.
"Aww, what? Can't do much without your widdle knife, can you?" He mocked still as he kicked, in spite of her arms being in the way. She sneered and allowed the attack to continue, assorted injuries, from soon-to-be bruising and splitting skin, going partially ignored. He leered and directed a sole kick toward her face, though he didn't expect her response.
She uncurled her arms and shoved herself backward against the ground, the fingers upon her right hand curling about the hilt of the naginata once more. He teetered backward due his failing to hit her and she made resounding sureness of his definitive fall by swinging the dull end of the blade toward his ankles.
"Aww, what?" She echoed his words and grinned teasingly as she maneuvered herself carefully to her feet. He was shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut, forcing the explosion of black dots to leave his vision. "Can't do much at all?"
He went to respond when his eyes were clear, though she hesitated not in twisting the weapon around, facing the hilt toward him. With the but end of it, she jammed the hilt down upon his nose, a violent, grotesque crack and an ample amount of blood being the desired outcome.
It came. He screamed – literally screamed! – and she laughed and repeated the action once again, though swept the butt end across the side of his face. It was very likely that nothing broke, bled or otherwise very badly injured due to this action, but the concept of bruising pleased her immensely.
This pleasure was silenced instantly, as, believing he could pull off one of his previous maneuvers again, he kicked his legs out. It caught her in the stomach once more, the air escaping her lungs and causing her to gasp violently. Though, she set to fix this. Immediately.
The weapon was quickly turned once more, the blade now pointed at him. In the process of catching her breath, she violently shoved it down.
Seeing him abruptly grow still made her want to laugh. Desire and yearn desperately to laugh. But she didn't! Oh, no. Not yet. Not just yet.
The blade bit roughly into the tender flesh just below the peek of his ribcage, the once pristine silver hue stained immediately with the warm, seeping flow of red. His eyes grew wide and his body arced, though it surely didn't wedge the blade from his innards.
This may not have been the resolve she sought, though it could – no, would work..
"You shouldn't have touched." She smiled; a violent, masochistic gesture, as she gave yet another shove to the hilt. The blade easily deeper into his skin; blood began to flow freely and spurt erratically. He let out a struggled gurgle of contest and heaved, blood seeping carelessly from the corners of his mouth, staining the eccentric pale of his skin. "You wouldn't have been in such a rut, if you hadn't."
He heaved once more, a larger excess of blood spilling from his mouth to dribble recklessly down his throat and spill to the ground below. She didn't stop at the sight of this, instead adding even more pressure to the hilt, the blade embedding itself even further into the flesh. He spurted, gagged and gasped, writhing and wriggling in his futile attempt to get up and away.
"Q-Quit –"
"Too late." She smiled even wider and, with a violent tug downward, the blade slid freely down the expanse of skin, tearing a wide, gaping wound from the tip of his ribs to the narrow bottom of his groin. He twitched at first and she relinquished in the action, before falling swiftly limp. She took no time in wrenching the blade from his innards and even less, hardly hesitating to partially wipe the blade clean upon where his tunic hadn't yet been soiled fully in his own blood.
Some animal could ravage his body, for all she truly cared. With that problem set to rest, she heaved the naginata back over her shoulder and carelessly retreated.
- - - -
"You took care of the problem, I presume?" The elder man inquired with a less than curious tone as he sipped at the murky red contents within his glass.
"Yup." She nodded resoundingly and turned her gaze toward the nearest window. Darkness crept upon the thick pane and played with the dim lighting within the room, casting shadows, which danced ominously and tauntingly.
"Forever?" He sat his glass back down upon the small, neat table beside him. His brows were raised and an abnormal, piqued sense of curiosity shone anxiously within them.
"Mm." Looking back toward the man, she nodded casually once again, as though the subject were as mundane as speaking of friends and family. He smiled and she returned it whole-heartedly, allowing herself the quiet laugh she couldn't permit earlier.
"Good."
Rating: R.
Pairing: None.
Notes: Die, Bit. :) My grotesque retaliation to the bundle of immature, repetitive 'How To Kill Harry' lists. Which aren't fics. Which are illegal. Um. This was also going to be apart of Getting Somewhere, but I screwed up somewhere along the lines and.. Well. It became separate. It's choppy for this reason, but the point is very clearly put through.
Oh, well. For those curious, a naginata is a Japanese weapon. Sort of like a sword, though not entirely - it's got a very long hilt and a mediocre / small sized blade. It's known for both it's power and grace and frequently used in the state of physical beauty known as kata.
If that still confuses you, just sort of think Freya of Final Fantasy IX. I think she used a naginata.. If that still confuses you, then.. well. Your loss. You'll have to visualize it on your own.
Either way, I want one. @_@
Oh. Two and four kilograms is between five and ten pounds, give or take a few. Leena is OOC, too. But we all know she's a real sadomasochistic freak on the inside, right? A good majority of you people have emphasized that entirely too much; I'm just adding to it.
- - - -
He was always a very quick person, being as that he was short in stature and rather lithe in body form. Though, when your arms were piled with random stolen goods, each amounting to a good two to four kilograms in weight, you couldn't help but lag along slowly and breathlessly.
"Idiot, idiot, idiot." He chided and looked down into his deep, heavy pile. The objects sparkled with jewels, almost literally glowing in the light of the low hanging moon. So beautiful. So expensive. So – much! He risked his life to stea – ah, barrow the cups and plates and rings and necklaces from the palace! He couldn't just dump them! It would be against all of his – well, not morals. A person couldn't possibly have morals when pointlessly stealing from a palace.
He heaved a heavy sigh and ducked his head, tucking into a careful stance before pushing himself into a sprint. Though, his pace was cut short, a sudden, flourished wave of a blade cutting through the air feet before him. He skidded to an abrupt, careful stop, teetering forward and dropping the largest of the five goblets he had pilfered. "Shit –"
"I am so tired of chasing people like you," The owner of the blade snarled and stepped into the area before him, shifting her grip upon the long hilt of the naginata once more to swing it upward. The dull end of the blade collided with the bottom of his cupped arms and he yelped, toppling backward. Everything he once held scattered about the heavily forested area. "Disgusting, filthy bastards, you are!"
"N-No! Honestly, I'm not!" He wailed and curled his arms over his head. Large, still swelling welts formed where the blade had collided with his skin and he visibly cringed. Wanting to keep that from happening once more, or even having his arms lost completely, he forced them behind him and propped himself up right. And, in the process, he was quick to find that from the area around the welts, down, was completely numb.
"Oh, my. You're not?" She mocked and slowly advanced on him, readjusting her grip once more. Now, she held the blade of the naginata at an angle to his throat. One simple jab, or even one abrupt, masochistic slice, and it was – oops! Bye bye, prisoner! "Between the stealing and the running, I honestly couldn't tell!"
"S-See, uh.." He fought to think up a way to get himself out of the situation, though failed to. Pressure wasn't his niche, especially when he had no true way of breaking out and winning. "I –"
"'I'm a liar.'" She finished the sentence for him and lifted the blade up once more. Though, she didn't bring it down and, in the process of this, the thief found the ideal opening to escape. Adjusting his weight, shifting it fully onto his still numb arms, he kicked his left foot out and caught her in the ankles. She teetered, though eventually did fall, the weapon going along with her. The blade of the weapon fell mere inches from her head – she sneered and heaved herself to her feet in time to see him mimic the action and sprint off in a random direction.
"Don't need to tell me twice about the 'liar' deal!" He howled back and kept running. She narrowed her eyes, flushing violently in anger, and tugged the blade from the ground by its hilt.
He was faster than her. It was inevitable – now she had the weight, the thin, though still weighty plates of armor. Though, she new the area. She knew it in the dark. She knew it in the light. She knew every inch of the area and this put him at the largest disadvantage he could ever have! Not allowing any more distance to expand between the both of them, she followed his path and kept the naginata held at an angle behind her.
She could hear him running. Panting and running. Gasping, panting and running, in his attempt to get away. She smiled and slowed, crouching toward the ground once more. His footsteps slowed, though whether they had stopped or not was beyond her senses. The wind fanned through the autumn leaves and she surveyed the area, sparing a brief, gentle whisper, "Such vanity."
To run was to die, after all.
He had stopped – at least, he had stopped running. He wasn't as agile in scampering up the branches of a tree, as opposed to running. He slipped and silently swore, banging his head upon the trunk when his hands were riddled with small slits due to the bark. "God – c'mon, Bit, move – ah, jeez.. OW!"
"I guess you don't know what 'subtle' means, mm?" She rose and began toward him, holding the hilt at ready once more. He looked back at her and let out a frightful wail, attempting to pull himself into the tree once more. "Really, you should stop. Chasing a person who takes away all the fun is really a bore –"
"Oh, shut up," He barked as his hand slipped upon the branch once more, another wail emitting from him. He sneered and broke off a mediocre sized branch, flinging it back at her. "Shove it, lady. You don't understand how it is –"
"Really?"
"Really." He mocked, his voice raised in tone to feign a falsetto. She narrowed her eyes in annoyance and stopped feet before him and the tree, just in case if her problem did have a brain and did decide to attack back once more. He took no time in doing just as she suspected he would, and diving backward off of the tree and toward her. Instead of full on colliding with her, he fell back first against her knees, the rest of him nuzzled greatly into the damp ground below.
Though, because of his weight, she found her knees buckling awkwardly and her balance tipping out from beneath her once more. She caught herself in mid fall, much to his dismay, as now his backside and back both were aching. Instead of keeping herself upright, however, her arm buckled. Her elbow grew weak and she fell completely back, losing her grip upon the weapon and temporarily becoming dazed.
Once more, he took the silent offer at retaliation. Despite his current pains, he was to his feet and instantly sent a violent barrage of kicks toward her abdomen. It may have been covered in a mild, thin coating of armor, though it wouldn't withstand constant attacking.
She withstood the attacks for quite a while, as he had supposed she would, though eventually she began to recoil in pain. She moaned briefly and curled her arms about her stomach, attempting to divert his attention, even if only temporarily.
"Aww, what? Can't do much without your widdle knife, can you?" He mocked still as he kicked, in spite of her arms being in the way. She sneered and allowed the attack to continue, assorted injuries, from soon-to-be bruising and splitting skin, going partially ignored. He leered and directed a sole kick toward her face, though he didn't expect her response.
She uncurled her arms and shoved herself backward against the ground, the fingers upon her right hand curling about the hilt of the naginata once more. He teetered backward due his failing to hit her and she made resounding sureness of his definitive fall by swinging the dull end of the blade toward his ankles.
"Aww, what?" She echoed his words and grinned teasingly as she maneuvered herself carefully to her feet. He was shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut, forcing the explosion of black dots to leave his vision. "Can't do much at all?"
He went to respond when his eyes were clear, though she hesitated not in twisting the weapon around, facing the hilt toward him. With the but end of it, she jammed the hilt down upon his nose, a violent, grotesque crack and an ample amount of blood being the desired outcome.
It came. He screamed – literally screamed! – and she laughed and repeated the action once again, though swept the butt end across the side of his face. It was very likely that nothing broke, bled or otherwise very badly injured due to this action, but the concept of bruising pleased her immensely.
This pleasure was silenced instantly, as, believing he could pull off one of his previous maneuvers again, he kicked his legs out. It caught her in the stomach once more, the air escaping her lungs and causing her to gasp violently. Though, she set to fix this. Immediately.
The weapon was quickly turned once more, the blade now pointed at him. In the process of catching her breath, she violently shoved it down.
Seeing him abruptly grow still made her want to laugh. Desire and yearn desperately to laugh. But she didn't! Oh, no. Not yet. Not just yet.
The blade bit roughly into the tender flesh just below the peek of his ribcage, the once pristine silver hue stained immediately with the warm, seeping flow of red. His eyes grew wide and his body arced, though it surely didn't wedge the blade from his innards.
This may not have been the resolve she sought, though it could – no, would work..
"You shouldn't have touched." She smiled; a violent, masochistic gesture, as she gave yet another shove to the hilt. The blade easily deeper into his skin; blood began to flow freely and spurt erratically. He let out a struggled gurgle of contest and heaved, blood seeping carelessly from the corners of his mouth, staining the eccentric pale of his skin. "You wouldn't have been in such a rut, if you hadn't."
He heaved once more, a larger excess of blood spilling from his mouth to dribble recklessly down his throat and spill to the ground below. She didn't stop at the sight of this, instead adding even more pressure to the hilt, the blade embedding itself even further into the flesh. He spurted, gagged and gasped, writhing and wriggling in his futile attempt to get up and away.
"Q-Quit –"
"Too late." She smiled even wider and, with a violent tug downward, the blade slid freely down the expanse of skin, tearing a wide, gaping wound from the tip of his ribs to the narrow bottom of his groin. He twitched at first and she relinquished in the action, before falling swiftly limp. She took no time in wrenching the blade from his innards and even less, hardly hesitating to partially wipe the blade clean upon where his tunic hadn't yet been soiled fully in his own blood.
Some animal could ravage his body, for all she truly cared. With that problem set to rest, she heaved the naginata back over her shoulder and carelessly retreated.
- - - -
"You took care of the problem, I presume?" The elder man inquired with a less than curious tone as he sipped at the murky red contents within his glass.
"Yup." She nodded resoundingly and turned her gaze toward the nearest window. Darkness crept upon the thick pane and played with the dim lighting within the room, casting shadows, which danced ominously and tauntingly.
"Forever?" He sat his glass back down upon the small, neat table beside him. His brows were raised and an abnormal, piqued sense of curiosity shone anxiously within them.
"Mm." Looking back toward the man, she nodded casually once again, as though the subject were as mundane as speaking of friends and family. He smiled and she returned it whole-heartedly, allowing herself the quiet laugh she couldn't permit earlier.
"Good."