"Guh!" Travis grunted as he felt a swift blow to the face before landing flat on his rear with a thud. Even though the fist that struck him was padded, it didn't prevent his nose from bleeding. The Sullivan gentleman rubbed his face, sniffling in an attempt to keep himself from bleeding all over the ring. He was hit hard. He was certainly getting good material to write about.
The generally silent member of the sensational seven had been sparring for the past couple of weeks, each time he came to the gym. He still went with Kristopherson to the building before they both parted ways as per usual procedure, only now he would meet up with Patricia in order to box. Despite Travis' lineage and stature, he wasn't very good. While he was getting better, he certainly wasn't going to be wining any tournaments within the next hundred years. Patricia was fast, and knew exactly where to hit him. She saw every small act of hesitation and used it to her advantage. It was easy, given the fact that Travis wasn't all the fighting sort by nature.
"Sorry, are you alright?" asked his opponent, dropping her stance in order to look down at the male. "Didn't mean to hurt you, but it happens, sometimes. Just tilt your head back and I'll get something to mop it up with, 'kay?" Patricia said, taking off her gloves and headgear. Travis did as instructed, breathing through his mouth as he couldn't through his nose.
Yes, he was definitely getting some good material. As he sat there, he mentally started trying to convert what he was feeling into words- how his nose throbbed, ached, and stung while he smelled and tasted iron. He could describe how his muscles ached from prancing around the ring and how his forearms hurt from blocking punches and kicks. Yes, this was going just as planned, except for the part where he was in pain. That part wasn't so great.
Travis nodded in response before simply laying back on the padded floor of the ring and staring at the ceiling. If he could breathe through his nose, a nap sounded nice, but as soon as his new friend came back, it would be back to work. It would seem that the Sullivan boy was certainly not cut out for fighting. He closed his eyes for a while, but opened them when he had a towel dropped on his face.
"You suck at this." Laughed Patricia as she looked down at the man.
"I'm not used to it." Travis answered, sitting up and pressing the towel to his face.
"I'll give ya that. I still can't believe you're willing to get yourself beaten up for a book, though." The girl in front of him sat down, crossing her legs with a slouch. "I mean, I like stories as much as the next guy, but that's pretty intense."
"I think it's helping, though. Maybe not my face, but my writing's improving."
"That's weird, mate." Bluntly spoke Patricia, shaking her head. She was right. It was a bit odd, wasn't it? Most people wouldn't willingly get in fights for the sake of putting words together. Travis was bleeding, after all. Was it really worth it? "That's crazy, and I get my head knocked around worse that you! What is your story even about, anyway?"
"Hmmm…" the Sullivan gentleman paused for a moment, taking the towel away from his face to turn it over. He had almost stopped bleeding, but blood was still coming out. "It's about these two detectives. They solve murders, but they also deal with monsters, sometimes. They're based off of friends of mine."
"So it's like a supernatural murder mystery, huh? Cool." Said the boxer. "Are your friends like, actual detectives in real life, or is that just for the story?"
"No, they're actual detectives. One of them goes to our school and is studying while acting as an assistant to the other one." Travis replied. "They're decent fellows- really weird, but, they're pleasant to be around."
"Even weirder than you?" teased the Ramirez girl, arching an eyebrow with a playfully questioning look.
"Way weirder. The detective looks like a bad guy you'd see in some spy movie, and his assistant used to wear short-shorts."
"What's wrong with that?"
"He's a bloke."
To that, Patricia laughed, trying to imagine the often quiet Travis hanging out with two people like that. "Oh, my god, that's brilliant."
"He says it was just a phase, but none of us will ever let him live it down."
"You shouldn't. That's golden."
"See why I picked them to base characters off of?" Travis asked. "They're good at fighting, too, but there's no way I'd ask them to help. They'd accidentally send me to the hospital."
"There's no way people like that can be real. You're got to be joking."
"I'm not, thank goodness."
"You should let me read some of your stuff sometime- at least when it's done." Patricia said, standing up and stretching. "I gotta see these guys."
"I could probably introduce you sometime" Travis looked up, wiping his nose one last time before taking the towel away from his face. "Going home?"
"Yeah, if it gets too late, it'll be a pain getting back." The woman answered.
"Want me to drive you?"
"Nah, I'm good. I'll just take the tube."
"Alright, then. Same time next week?" asked the writer.
"Yeah. Work on the whole 'hitting back' thing until then for me, alright, Hercules?" Joked the boxer before heading out.
Patricia put on her hoodie and headed for the metro station. Even though she was wearing shorts in late fall, she was still sweating as she jogged to get there. Her muscles ached, and her lungs hurt from the cold air that stabbed against their inner-lining, and now all she wanted to do was sit down and ride the rest of the way home in peace. Unfortunately, it seemed as though that wasn't what was going to be happening.
Even humans had a "gut feeling" that tells them when something wasn't right, and Patricia sure felt it. She kept jogging, not wanting to slow down and potentially find out what it was. London was a big city filled with many dangers, after all. When she heard a soft, polite, "excuse me" calling from behind her, she didn't even look back. In fact, her pace quickened as she heard footsteps following her. As they got faster, the boxer became scared.
She started running. The cold air pierced her lungs harshly, but she didn't even register it. She had other, more pressing matters to think about. She was being chased by someone- she didn't know who, and she didn't care to find out. Whoever it was, they were determined, as they followed Patricia for another block.
Tired, she slammed her foot down on the ground before turning, and slamming the other one down as well, turning to fast the threat while adopting a fighting stance. One punch would be all it would take to end this, and then she could go home. Skillfully, she swung her fist, causing it to collide with her pursuer's face. The impact from her blow on its own would have knocked someone down, if not out, easily, and combined with the speed that they crashed into her at, they definitely shouldn't have gotten up.
But they did. The person who was following her sat up and locked eyes with her. He looked like a businessman who was at least in his forties. It should have been impossible for him to even follow her, with as fast as she was running.
It only took her a mere second or so to decide that she needed to start running again. She lifted one foot and moved it, tripping when the man leaned forward and grabbed at her ankle. Patricia fell against the concrete sidewalk, scraping her exposed knees in the process before she started kicking. She kicked her foot in an effort to free herself, but when that didn't work, she swung her other leg and hit her attacker right in the face. It obviously hurt them, but that was her intention. Alas, they had but one more trick up their sleeve.
Suddenly, the hands of the attacker started glowing and the flesh started to bubble beneath the surface. The man's old, chiseled hands began to morph into much smaller, more feminine hands with worn knuckles, wearing skin that was a similar hue to the boxers. It crawled up the attacker's arms, and even the man's clothing started to change. It changed to match Patricia's.
Her attacker's body took on a completely different shape now, shifting from that of a middle-aged man to a young woman! Their hair lengthened and changed the same shade of dark brown as the boxers, and their face… oh, their face…
Of course the human girl was dumbstruck by this. How exactly does an ordinary human being respond to such an outrageous and disturbing display? When whatever it was opened it's eyes, green met green as they locked with hers. Miraculously, the Ramirez girl snapped back to her senses and gave another kick, this time, aiming for her attacker's hands.
They let go and clutched at them in pain, all while Patricia took this opportunity to scramble to her feet and run. She ran like she's never ran before in her life, not even bothering to try and make sense of what just happened as she did so. Wisely, she was more concerned about making it out of there alive!
Patricia ran, and ran, and ran, and ran, and she never looked back, even as she stormed into the metro station. She didn't look back until she was on her train and the doors shut behind her. Understandably, she nearly collapsed then and there, thankfully making it to a seat before doing so. Her entire body ached and her blood was pumping as her heart beat wildly. She was panting, her lungs feeling like she had been inhaling glass from running out in the cold and her body was shaking as her mind started to catch up with her.
What was that?
The woman was attacked by something. She didn't know what, or why. Regardless, she was certain that it couldn't be human. She was hoping that she only imagined it. Surely it was impossible for a man to just transform into her likeness right before her very eyes! No matter what she told herself, however, she wasn't convincing enough. That was real, and she could have died.
Right then and there, the boxer started crying, having feared for her life. It didn't matter to her who all saw her in that state at the moment. She was more concerned about the fact that she might not have lived to break down in the first place!
Her train ride ended and she was afraid to walk the rest of the way to her house alone. She wondered if Travis' offer still stood to drive her. It was worth a try. With trembling hands, she reached into her pockets and dug out her cellphone. Maybe someone writing about paranormal detectives would know something about this? Or better yet, point her in their direction.
A/N: Oh...
Hahaha... I should be working... But instead, I did this. You're welcome.
Bet you were wondering how she was gonna fit into this, eh?
Poor Patty.
I dunno what else to talk about... Questions?
"hate-san are you going to make this DLTP into baby thing? *pwease _* i want mpg" by marry sue
Hahaha... If I do that, it would probably be toward the veeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrryyyyy end. I'm not really into m!preg, though, so we'll see...
Until the next chapter, my duckies~!
