[IC] [18+] "The Terms & Endearment Of A Vigilante" (Blissy & Squiggle)

[Blissy]

Playing games was, well, somewhat of a familiarity to her, even if half those 'games' were hardly fitting of the fair terms of amusement or exhilarating nature. Where as there was always a hell lot of people playing games in Oldcity, there was twice as many people who weren't so keen on seeing them for what they were and how they themselves had been made players by much more unconditional means. These weren't just any games, these were dangerous games, structured to benefit one particular player or purpose in some rigged outcome. While everyone else went on trying to live with the hopeful concept of ever being given any one real resolve to the complying problems in Oldcity, she had moved on and started to do what needed to be done. For how many times had she found herself being thrown into the circumstance of another player, undesiring to play said game at the decisions of far more powerful and shady individuals around her? She had her fair share of experiences no doubt, most of which had taught her lessons only understandable by the subject of being a victim within. Bad things didn't just happen to people without a reason in Oldcity, so much as the reason for bad things happening, was often much more elaborate and conspiring in nature.

To some she had become a saviour, to others a destroyer. Regardless of titles, her intentions of fixing Oldcity were hardly unnoticed, as much as they were effective in their method. Some might argue that effect and morale were completely two different things and to some definitive, she might agree. Maybe that's why she felt guilty about half the things she did? Contemplated the real meaning behind them? While her actions always spoke for her..? Being sure felt like star gazing into a sky lacking of any stars at all and only just catching the glint of the tiniest flare and hoping it were a star. To stare into the absence of her trial and error and try to pull some better purpose out of anything she did, just felt like the worst kind of way of battering her own self guilt or grievances when it came to doing something she knew she might regret, but just couldn't refrain herself from doing.

Ultimately her methods had been effective to those she deemed to destroy or torment in some megalomaniac craving for burying the sins of Oldcity beneath the ashes she made. They wouldn't get away with this.. she'd kill every last one of them.. Letting her conscience slip into the absence of her own catastrophic thoughts, always seemed to give her a weird sort of jive to glee. Where others saw a maniac behind a peculiar arrangement of pink, green and black shades, she saw an answer to something she could have only dreamed of existing at a time far before she had been made into a brutalized victim of what Oldcity could turn you into, especially when Newcity was anything far from as justified as it played itself out to be..

---

”I'll ask you again.. Where'd the money go?” The voice of an irritable lanky male dressed in all black, totting a rather heavy duty rifle, continued to fraternize her with his meager attempts to interrogate her. This whole interrogation thing had been going on for what was well over ten minutes and already the victim of it all could feel her patience collapsing. Then of course the jackass with the gun decided to butt her across the cheek with the stock. He wanted to hit that hard huhh..?! Phoebe's concern for the matter only dreaded further the longer she found herself loosely bound to a chair and incapable of really stopping any further 'heckling' from the felon in front of her.

At first she'd only muse to motion her pink glossed lips around against her upper lip, her tongue gently trying to reach and extend to dip in a little of the blood made up of the small wound on the corner of her lip. Ohhh.. this asshole enjoying thiss.. She should have known better. Feeling somewhat appeased by the light sample of claret coating the corner of her lip, a light humming slowly began to expel from the light tremble of her lip and echo further throughout the empty contains of the warehouse she were held prisoner in. She made no immediate attempt to comply to the light beating the felon in front of her gave her, only seeming maintained by the meager almost delusional reaction she displayed back to him and letting that light meshing of tasting the light drizzle of blood on her lip slowly entice her further, into some maddened temptation only understood by the deepest recess of her unstable mind.

Clearly the felon in front of her disapproved of her chosen reaction to the conditions of trying to make the oddly costumed woman in front of him, compliant to any ounce of showing cooperation. While his 'patience' ran thinner by the noted display of his own twitching partaking in his stature, Phoebe's own gaze gently started to poke around the room as if to avoid answering the question at all. The strangest thing was that she hardly seemed intimidated by anything the felon in front of her said.

“Im gonna ask you one more time RiotBitch.. Where did you 'misplace' our money?!” His tone raised, his arms gesturing up during the verbal declaration of announcing the few other goons standing around the room, all of which seemed almost matching in terms of wardrobe and load-out to some comparatively familiar fashion. Ohh she didn't like that.. That name always..-! The first verbal reaction of the girl with the bloody lip, who only seemed to find some sort of masochist pleasure in the idea of tasting the sample of her own blood, started in the gentle cackling of a light giggle. While her head stayed hung down as if to pronounce some sort of fatigue from the abuse of the situation, her desire for fulfilment or cracking endurance seemed to waver in the odd presentation of that particular giggle. It was like listening to a child giggle and glee away at the subject of something they found funny as with that laugh she somehow seemed to dissolve the entire hostile feeling of the mood, only to replace it with a rather eerie atmosphere of deviance.

"Phoebe, the girl beneath the mask"

“You knoww.. I don't like that-t.. name-e..!” She replied, her tone underlying in a thick essence of carefree delusional response, her words seeming to almost shake and drag as she spoke. It were like Phoebe took the entire circumstance of her situation and turned it into some inevitable cryptic joke that had yet to unfold and take these 'problems' of hers, by horrific surprise. Following the light cackle of her own mortifying response, her chin edged up and the deep sapphire blue of hers eyes peered menacingly into the eyes of the felon in front of her. It were like she were trying to peer into the core of his soul, her lips hung on the arch of a devious sneer growing and extending further across her face. “Oh comee.. onn-n!” She'd say, rolling her eyes and slowly letting that dreadful sneer of a stare slip away and into the absence of the dark silent warehouse around her. “You only gonnaa.. hit me once-e..? Pfftt! Youu gotta try-y harderr then that.. too-!” Her sentence meant an abrupt halt as the felon with the gun in front of her gave her another hard whack in the cheek with the stock of the rifle.

"The Warehouse"

The blow surprised her, causing her chin to collide with the hard wooden end of the gun for a second time and kiss a loud 'smack' of a sound to her cheek. Ow.. She could feel the side of her mouth sting, a few teeth rattle from the impact.. The force of the blow caused her head to turn in painful disregarding momentum as she found herself actually staggered by the force of the hit. Dizziness sung through her head, her cheek stinging in sharp correspondence to the blow given to her. Asshole wasn't suppose too to do thatt..! Agitation took her next causing her to throw her attention back to the felon in front of her while the flustered state of her persona seemed to slowly start to reach one of actual intention, as opposed to the act she was putting on for a certain someone and there certain unpunctuality to show up and 'address' the situation in a certain timely matter. She had been waiting a long time to meet this.. Skarlet Avenger after all..

A light maniacal laughter started to sing from her trembling lips, before she'd slowly start shaking her head in decline to some unspoken concept that only she could understand. Phoebe's eyes were like talons digging into the presence of the henchmen in front of her who she was suspecting was enjoying having her play hostage for the sake of the bigger scheme at hand.

“Youu.. weren't suppose-e.. to do thatt-t!” The euphoria in her tone edged further on the longer her statement peaked into hysterical pleasant response. Despite clearly being annoyed with how things had rolled over and having a certain henchmen of her's take his apparent sadist fetish of hitting her further then he should, it were like Phoebe's exclamation of aggression was maintained by some falsified indomitable congenial charade.

Oh.. Skarlet Avenger would have no real idea what she was about to get herself into..

[Squiggle]

The darkness of nightfall cast itself over Oldcity like a looming danger. The good folk huddle in their homes and bolt their doors; preparing for the worst the city had to offer. Not Skarlet Avenger though. She was in the thick of it; fighting the rings of crime even down to low level robberies. She was there, fighting til her knuckles bloody and her body sore. Every night she tirelessly bashed against the seemingly endless waves of crime. Tonight was no different.

From roof top to roof top a streak of red danced through the air; her black attire blending with the night sky. Emerald eyes scanning the city for threats to squash. As she ran her keen ears seemed to pick up the distinct sound of the butt of a gun hitting flesh and bone. Following the sound Skarlet Avenger entered the building through a broken window near the roof. She slipped in, quietly creeping through the rafters. Getting closer to observed the situation in silence. She was a bit surprised to see RiotBliss as the one tied up. It was bound to happen after all as no one is safe in Oldcity.

Watching as another strong hit across her jaw she knew she needed to act before things escalated. Given their weapons they weren't amateurs and the perimeter would be guarded. So she couldn't attack the man in the center of the room, not yet. Stepping across the steel beams she silently stalked around the room, taking note of each target. She quickly assessed her first strike; a guard near several large crates. The Perfect first step to descend down without being scene. Patiently she waited above in the shadows until the guard had walked past. She then slipped off the beam expertly, landing nimbly without a sound. Turning to face the guards back she stalked forward. The man was much taller than Skarlet, seeing as she stood at a mere five feet and six inches.

To level the playing field Skarlet kicked hard into the back of his knee forcing it to buckle and making the man collapse on himself. Before he could let out a yell Skarlet quickly put him in a choke hold; closing his windpipe and holding firm til he lost consciousness. When he seemed to black out she slowly let him fall to the floor without a sound. Around the room she went to each guard and disposed of them one after the other til all she could see left was the man in the center of the room with RiotBliss. The center of the room was to clear to sneak the entire way. Surely she would be heard or seen on approach. So she needed surprise him, take him off guard and exploit that.

Grabbing a loose pipe from off a crate she took a deep breath, preparing herself. With a quick dash out of the shadows she ran directly at the man. Hearing her steps the guard turned to the sound, swinging his gun to point at her. Before the barrel could line up with Skarlet she powerfully threw the pipe through the air at the man. As planned the pipe slammed hard into the mans hand on the grip of the gun along his fingers, breaking a few and forcing him to recoil and lose his hold. As he was processing the pain she was closing the distance. Using her momentum she kicked forward into his knee cap, hyper extending the tendon and kicking the one leg out from under him. Planting her foot she torqued her hips and sending a cross kick into his side and throwing him a couple feet back; falling into a rolling tumble. He was groaning but quickly trying to regain his standing, but Skarlet gave no such luxury. She was quickly at his side, cocking back a punch and unleashing a devastating blow down across his jaw hard enough to throw his head into the concrete and knock him unconscious.

Satisfied in his state of unconsciousness she sighed and relaxed her stance. Turning on her heels she faced RiotBliss back at the center of the room. A smooth, elegant stride brought her to the girls side. Bright emerald eyes looking down at the tied RiotBliss curiously. Somehow she still couldn't wrap her head around how she had been caught. Reaching behind her back and under her trenchcoat she produced and butterfly knife. Expertly unfolding the blade she began to cut the ties around RiotBliss' wrists; though her eyes cautiously watched for anything treacherous.

[Blissy]

The near mad exasperated warning sung out from her lips like vocalized poison serving to taint and boil the ears of those that heard it's particular call. For where RiotBliss seemed to support the conquered submission of her own distressed state, she knew that the act making herself seem so fatigued hardly felt easy for her to do. It was all part of the act. The act that would lead a certain Skarlet Avenger to come and address the circumstance of her own dramatized hapless distress. That was part of the game of course and making sure the game felt anything but far from real was her only intention, even if that really stirred to tempt her tolerance for the certain acting qualities of the anything but underplaying henchmen in front of her.

A light struggle ensued at her wrists, bound as they were, though not as tight as they should be, forced Phoebe to reconsider just how much release she'd need to obtain before being able to spring free when the time came. The idea of being held captive was always anything but encouraging to her, even if the circumstances of that particular captivity were far more role-played then actually present. RiotBliss just didn't like being trussed up or contained to any constricting degree. A free spirit in need of attention, a destroyer in need of making a mess, freedom was a necessity of her oh so cynically twisted character. She hardly even knew much else but the name of this mysterious vigilante that had been parading around Oldtown and cleaning up where she was only making a mess and already she found almost captivated by the very presence of this other woman in all her so called heroic selfless accordance to trying to smother the flame set on the town, that felt set much too far ablaze, to be extinguished. Where Skarlet Avenger saw hope, RiotBliss saw despair only wrapped up in the eerie façade of a wild shadowy smile and her messy attempts to cling to some much less underlying moral complication.

“Im not going to ask you again-! You think this is funny?” The front man who bore the honour of playing into this whole little charade set out for Skarlet Avenger, dared to further push the fragile circumstances of his unspoken ability to play his part in her little game. He had already done enough, already gone well and beyond what she required of him. Phoebe let the dramatized heave of her fatigue project further at the hanging of her head downward only to let the messy blonde strands of her pigtail managed hair to almost touch the meshy coated and partially torn surface of her breast. Lips parting in some stellar act of manifesting some desolated submissive, the tremble of her words broke and slipped in further announcement of her clever declaration to begging for some saviour that she knew was only several inches away. Parting those shaking pink moulds of hysteric nerve induced wonder, she'd gasp at the mention of trying to say one thing, only to have her words force a small giggle from her lips to the conditions that saw one man pulled into the darkness surrounding them, from the corner of her wandering eye.

“She's heree-e..” The announcement sung out into the absent silence of the room. Though Skarlet Avenger was prestige in her efforts of taking down the first armed obstruction, Phoebe knew letting her have her the luxury of silently taking down each one of the men positioned around the room without any form of challenge, would hardly prove to win her any fair status among the judgement of her forth coming opponent. No. Letting Skarlet Avenger take the floor without resistance wasn't ethical in symbolizing what made her such a worthy threat to be called here in the first place. If anything, this bold heroine needed to be tested beyond the circumstance of her strengths, just as she had been with the conditions of maintaining her own sanity that came with being some unsung hero of Oldtown.

The light threat ushered from the broken whimper of her lips caused the front man to turn on his heels, to heed warning in the decree. Turning, he saw only three men, the fourth missing from the arrangement. The shady point-man of operation scowled, the hook of that scowl trying to alter the brief cringe that stung through his body. “Where's Nick?!” He questioned, only to have the near whispering cackle of RiotBliss's own meager amusement sing and out and distract him from further pressing the matter of the one missing person. If RiotBliss wanted Skarlet Avegener dead, she could have assured that by now. No, this was about making her struggle, squirm and doubt herself.. and everything selfless thing that she did.. “You really need to stop laughing.. It's getting on my fucking nerves!” He threatened, before Skarlet Avenger took down another and then the final victim at just the opportune moment to use the nervous alarm of the two final goons, to her precarious advantage. That left one.

The brief shaking of dismal decline gestured from where she sat bound to the chair before she'd slowly raise her chin and let the lose strands of her dirty golden hair cascade over the cryptic exhilaration of her expression. “Oh youu-u.. I told youu-u.. not to let herr-r take you all outt.. She's behind you-u now-w..!” A brief guffaw sung into place at the chilly warning of RiotBliss's perilous address? Oh was it peril at all?

The final goon turned at the rampaging steps of an adrenaline fuelled Skarlet Avenger before he'd turn to have his hand smashed against the metal of the pipe. There was a struggle, a feud, the two serving to frantically handle one another until Skarlet Avenger discontinued the commotion with a belligerent finishing move that left the final conflict in an unconsciously crude state. Meanwhile Phoebe sat still in her place of captivity, the deep joyful insane hues of her blue eyes finding themselves utterly enamoured in devious imaginative wonder of the dark black clad heroine in front of her, all while she watched her in childish wonder of the reality taking place in front of her.

With a small fuss the fight concluded. Skarlet Avenger had won and stepped away from the near humiliated and battered unconscious stature of her former opposition. Skarlet Avenger came closer, lips pursed, attention turned entirely to the degree of her own hapless charade as she'd step forward and begin to untie her from the chair. That's when the situation took a wild turn..

At the moment of feeling her slender wrists unbound, the former ties among them slipping away, RiotBliss left the dependence act of a victim behind her. In the spurt of a second she was up, her legs swinging out from their rest hanging over the chair as she'd force her hands to the top of chair that previously kept her bound. With precise amazing momentum she'd flip herself up and over Skarlet Avenger, letting a single boot of hers kick the heroine in the spine and into the chair with cheap withdrawing ascend that would send her away from the heroine and express her certain courtesy for being freed by the naive heroine.

Catching herself perfectly on two legs she'd raise both arms in elated theatrical accomplishment.

“HAAA!” A real jeer of excitement called out in wild enthusiastic announcement before she'd sweep a single sheet off a dusty crate and easily pull out sub-machine gun and point it across the room at Skarlet Avenger. Eyes drawn carefully to her, all the curious elevated wonder motivating that address forward, RiotBliss would start to walk around the her prey in slow pace and muse aloud at the devious pondering of what she should do next.

“Sooo.. Skarlet Avengerr-r is it? Neat namee..e What's the story? I think mines a bit better-r though.. Tee hee..” She'd state, showing no fear in really throwing her menacing intrusiveness forward as she tried to become a bit more acquainted with Skarlet Avenger under the terms of holding her under gun point, all while somehow insulting her at the same time.