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AmongHeroes
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Very much looking forward to your Penny post Lil - and lovely one you already put up!
Sorry so late, but hopefully in before you have to head off to work! 
Yury Demidov tightened the lash that helped jerry rig their small trunk to the back of the rickshaw, for likely the hundredth time. His long fingers ran irritably through longish brown hair, a nervous tic that made his locks stand up at strange angles about that handsome, unshaven face, only adding a physical manifestation of the growing agitation in his chest, racking his heart. He paced slowly, long-legged strides soundless despite the heavy boots he wore as he stalked the length of the rickshaw, flashing amber eyes narrowed beneath dark brows resembling nothing so much as a wolf worrying over its cub.
She was late. Yury knew exactly when that tea ceremony ended, that strangely beautiful dance she had dedicated herself to these past months with the Takahiro clan leader. He did not understand why Galina did what she did here, why she defied their father's express command to destroy this entire household; to, in essence, raze this entire place to the ground and salt the proverbial earth upon which it was built. Even with the distance of so many miles between herself and Lord Demidov's wrath, her rebellion was no small thing. He did not understand why she chose thievery over assassination, for the family of the man who nearly cost her everything dear in her world: duty, honor, faith, family.
But Yury did not have to understand. She was Galina, bright and terrible, his baby sister who followed in his footsteps since the time she could walk, her chubby little fingers wrapped around his own, her eyes so like Mama's laughing up at them all. Dark eyes that shone nonetheless, their depths full of strange and wonderful secrets. And if she wished to keep one or two of those secrets close, all for her very own? Yury could let this be. He could even stand with Galina as she meticulously laid out her rationale to their father, that this venture would be far more lucrative with the Takahiro clan alive than dead. That hot, unreasoning vengeance could be savored cold as well...
No, Yury did not have to understand a single one of Galina's motives for all she did here in Japan - or even for what she chose to leave undone.
What he desperately did want to understand, was why his little sister would be running so late. A minute or two – and no more – for Takahiro Souma. A minute, and no more, to reveal what she had done, to give him a single, bitter taste of the cost for crossing the Cossacks –
A shout like a roar blasted through the Takahiro compound, rumbling like thunder past even the front gates. Yury did not recognize this voice, but that mattered not at all. His face fell pale in an instant though he did not hesitate. His shashka already sheathed at his side, its mated kindjal riding beside it on his belt, he tore the Winchester model 1892 rifle from its moorings atop their trunk and bolted back into the compound with a feral snarl. Any man who dared stand between Yury and his sister would die, horribly.
**********
Galina's eyes widened in undiluted horror as Souma threw himself into her blades, sensing the subtle, all too familiar feel of flesh parting from flesh thrumming through the hilts – and still he came at her, through a rain of razor edges no sane man would dare. Shocked, horrified, she was not prepared for the blows he rained down on her, too close, too near to dance away once more to the relative safety just beyond arms reach. She flinched, but not near enough as Souma’s forehead hammered into her cheekbone. Another bone cracked beneath Souma's assault, tiny bright lights flashing into her dimmed vision in an instant, the blow stunning her just long enough for his still-good hand to shove her backward over his sweeping leg. Galina found herself thrown easily, brutally to the ground once more, and she knew this moment for the end it must be.
’Please don't make me kill you Souma.’
He moved with all the reckless ferocity of a berserker – yet the key word in these precious seconds was the word ‘reckless.’ Galina was no unworthy adversary, no mere thug or cutthroat or brigand. She was a warrior trained from the time she could hold a blade in her tiny hand, and she could have finished this tangled rivalry now, in the breadth of a heartbeat.
All she had to do, was bury even one of these blades in his neck this very instant. Souma was gone mad with bloodlust, his desire to see her dead overriding all reason, all sanity and pain. And all Galina had to do to live, amounted to barely a flick of her wrist, a subtle movement she mastered when she was still just a small child. She even knew how it would feel, that first gout of hot blood against her face, in perfect synchronicity with the very next heartbeat after an artery is severed…
’I cannot kill him.’
Her hands shook with the inhuman effort. Galina’s teeth bared as a cry of anguish tore itself from her throat, a wordless lament to scream her torment to the heavens – and then buried both blades to the hilt in the dirt at her sides, where she had fallen. She released the hilts, a world-weary and exhausted woman relinquishing her final, desperate and bleeding finger holds on a perilous cliff's ledge.
’I will not, Souma... ‘
Galina squeezed her eyes shut tightly, her face a rictus of misery. She could not bear to look into the face that hovered above hers, to see the hate or contempt in his eyes – or worse yet, to know he felt nothing at all as he killed her. The impossibly strong fingers of one hand dug tightly about her throat once more, the other buried painfully in her hair as if he meant to tear it out by the roots, half-lifting and half-dragging her body from the ground. She did not know if Souma intended to strangle her. Beat her. Crush her to death or simply break her neck.
It did not matter. She was going to die, one way or another, at the hands of the one man she could not bring herself to kill. She could only pray Yury would not suffer for her failing, that he would be able to get far and away at the end of this last charade.
Her shaking hands rose to Souma’s face above her own, gently, as if they had a volition of their own. The last sight Galina wished to hold in this world, bright in her mind’s eye, was the memory of a man she once held, fast asleep in the cushion of her lap as she tenderly traced the lines of his face with her fingertips. All she could hope for, beyond the pain and the darkness to come, was the touch, the memory of that face beneath her fingers one more time.
‘Please don't... ‘
She was late. Yury knew exactly when that tea ceremony ended, that strangely beautiful dance she had dedicated herself to these past months with the Takahiro clan leader. He did not understand why Galina did what she did here, why she defied their father's express command to destroy this entire household; to, in essence, raze this entire place to the ground and salt the proverbial earth upon which it was built. Even with the distance of so many miles between herself and Lord Demidov's wrath, her rebellion was no small thing. He did not understand why she chose thievery over assassination, for the family of the man who nearly cost her everything dear in her world: duty, honor, faith, family.
But Yury did not have to understand. She was Galina, bright and terrible, his baby sister who followed in his footsteps since the time she could walk, her chubby little fingers wrapped around his own, her eyes so like Mama's laughing up at them all. Dark eyes that shone nonetheless, their depths full of strange and wonderful secrets. And if she wished to keep one or two of those secrets close, all for her very own? Yury could let this be. He could even stand with Galina as she meticulously laid out her rationale to their father, that this venture would be far more lucrative with the Takahiro clan alive than dead. That hot, unreasoning vengeance could be savored cold as well...
No, Yury did not have to understand a single one of Galina's motives for all she did here in Japan - or even for what she chose to leave undone.
What he desperately did want to understand, was why his little sister would be running so late. A minute or two – and no more – for Takahiro Souma. A minute, and no more, to reveal what she had done, to give him a single, bitter taste of the cost for crossing the Cossacks –
A shout like a roar blasted through the Takahiro compound, rumbling like thunder past even the front gates. Yury did not recognize this voice, but that mattered not at all. His face fell pale in an instant though he did not hesitate. His shashka already sheathed at his side, its mated kindjal riding beside it on his belt, he tore the Winchester model 1892 rifle from its moorings atop their trunk and bolted back into the compound with a feral snarl. Any man who dared stand between Yury and his sister would die, horribly.
Galina's eyes widened in undiluted horror as Souma threw himself into her blades, sensing the subtle, all too familiar feel of flesh parting from flesh thrumming through the hilts – and still he came at her, through a rain of razor edges no sane man would dare. Shocked, horrified, she was not prepared for the blows he rained down on her, too close, too near to dance away once more to the relative safety just beyond arms reach. She flinched, but not near enough as Souma’s forehead hammered into her cheekbone. Another bone cracked beneath Souma's assault, tiny bright lights flashing into her dimmed vision in an instant, the blow stunning her just long enough for his still-good hand to shove her backward over his sweeping leg. Galina found herself thrown easily, brutally to the ground once more, and she knew this moment for the end it must be.
’Please don't make me kill you Souma.’
He moved with all the reckless ferocity of a berserker – yet the key word in these precious seconds was the word ‘reckless.’ Galina was no unworthy adversary, no mere thug or cutthroat or brigand. She was a warrior trained from the time she could hold a blade in her tiny hand, and she could have finished this tangled rivalry now, in the breadth of a heartbeat.
All she had to do, was bury even one of these blades in his neck this very instant. Souma was gone mad with bloodlust, his desire to see her dead overriding all reason, all sanity and pain. And all Galina had to do to live, amounted to barely a flick of her wrist, a subtle movement she mastered when she was still just a small child. She even knew how it would feel, that first gout of hot blood against her face, in perfect synchronicity with the very next heartbeat after an artery is severed…
’I cannot kill him.’
Her hands shook with the inhuman effort. Galina’s teeth bared as a cry of anguish tore itself from her throat, a wordless lament to scream her torment to the heavens – and then buried both blades to the hilt in the dirt at her sides, where she had fallen. She released the hilts, a world-weary and exhausted woman relinquishing her final, desperate and bleeding finger holds on a perilous cliff's ledge.
’I will not, Souma... ‘
Galina squeezed her eyes shut tightly, her face a rictus of misery. She could not bear to look into the face that hovered above hers, to see the hate or contempt in his eyes – or worse yet, to know he felt nothing at all as he killed her. The impossibly strong fingers of one hand dug tightly about her throat once more, the other buried painfully in her hair as if he meant to tear it out by the roots, half-lifting and half-dragging her body from the ground. She did not know if Souma intended to strangle her. Beat her. Crush her to death or simply break her neck.
It did not matter. She was going to die, one way or another, at the hands of the one man she could not bring herself to kill. She could only pray Yury would not suffer for her failing, that he would be able to get far and away at the end of this last charade.
Her shaking hands rose to Souma’s face above her own, gently, as if they had a volition of their own. The last sight Galina wished to hold in this world, bright in her mind’s eye, was the memory of a man she once held, fast asleep in the cushion of her lap as she tenderly traced the lines of his face with her fingertips. All she could hope for, beyond the pain and the darkness to come, was the touch, the memory of that face beneath her fingers one more time.
‘Please don't... ‘
The accuracy was just perfect... 
So much fun tonight, you all are wonderful!
So much fun tonight, you all are wonderful!Good afternoon all Sorry I've been so silent here, but this week has been a metric shit ton of stuff that needed doing, and won't be done 'til tomorrow evening. I hope everyone's had a wonderful week, and just wanted to say hello. I do believe Kuro and I will be working on a small something tonight, and wondering where everyone else is at with their pieces?
Sorry I've been so silent here, but this week has been a metric shit ton of stuff that needed doing, and won't be done 'til tomorrow evening. I hope everyone's had a wonderful week, and just wanted to say hello. I do believe Kuro and I will be working on a small something tonight, and wondering where everyone else is at with their pieces?The kindjal was in Galina's grip even before she scrambled to a crouch in her stocking feet, whirling on Souma the instant his blade finally materialized - and at the worst possible moment, airborne in a silver flash at her chest. She feinted slightly, the knife's edge catching and slicing easily at the seams of her kimono sleeve before burying itself in the earth behind her.
Instinctively her eyelids shut tight against the dirt he threw at her face, her body following the original feint but only managing to change oh-so-slightly where Souma's powerful blow landed.
She heard more than felt the dull *snap* at her ribs, a flash of white hot agony immediately dulled by the adrenaline fueling her lightning swift movements. Galina sucked in a quick hiss of a breath through bared teeth as she allowed the momentum of the blow to whirl her away from Souma. No, these were not the first broken ribs she had ever known, and would likely not be the last - unless Souma killed her here and now, of course.
Galina realized he would wear her down like a hammer to stone if she let him, that she must keep her feet and stay out of his grasp. Instinctively, she knew if Souma grappled her to the ground once more, she would likely not rise again. He was stronger than she - far, far stronger, and he certainly wanted her dead.
But Galina was swifter, and not yet ready to die.
Her free hand dropped to the dirt to steady herself for a split-second, just long enough to wrap agile fingers about the fallen dagger Souma relinquished. She allowed the momentum of the blow to marry with her own grace, lifting her form from the earth with the ephemeral lightness of a windblown leaf. Whirling away from Souma, Galina sidestepped him in a nimble dance that belied her injury utterly. Both blades glided in twin silver blurs as elegant as she, the kindjal slicing for the meat of his shoulder and Souma's own dagger flowing like water in a stream toward a hamstring as she landed delicately behind him.
Neither the muffled agony in her ribs nor her sudden struggle to breathe forced the pained grimace on Galina's face, but a single thought that seared her spirit like a brand:
Please Souma, please go down... Stay down... I don't want to die... God in heaven, please don't make me kill you...
Instinctively her eyelids shut tight against the dirt he threw at her face, her body following the original feint but only managing to change oh-so-slightly where Souma's powerful blow landed.
She heard more than felt the dull *snap* at her ribs, a flash of white hot agony immediately dulled by the adrenaline fueling her lightning swift movements. Galina sucked in a quick hiss of a breath through bared teeth as she allowed the momentum of the blow to whirl her away from Souma. No, these were not the first broken ribs she had ever known, and would likely not be the last - unless Souma killed her here and now, of course.
Galina realized he would wear her down like a hammer to stone if she let him, that she must keep her feet and stay out of his grasp. Instinctively, she knew if Souma grappled her to the ground once more, she would likely not rise again. He was stronger than she - far, far stronger, and he certainly wanted her dead.
But Galina was swifter, and not yet ready to die.
Her free hand dropped to the dirt to steady herself for a split-second, just long enough to wrap agile fingers about the fallen dagger Souma relinquished. She allowed the momentum of the blow to marry with her own grace, lifting her form from the earth with the ephemeral lightness of a windblown leaf. Whirling away from Souma, Galina sidestepped him in a nimble dance that belied her injury utterly. Both blades glided in twin silver blurs as elegant as she, the kindjal slicing for the meat of his shoulder and Souma's own dagger flowing like water in a stream toward a hamstring as she landed delicately behind him.
Neither the muffled agony in her ribs nor her sudden struggle to breathe forced the pained grimace on Galina's face, but a single thought that seared her spirit like a brand:
Please Souma, please go down... Stay down... I don't want to die... God in heaven, please don't make me kill you...
Dear sweet heavens - that... Is not a cat. That poor man has a bobcat on his shoulder, and I feel so sorry for him, he appears so blithely unknowing concerning his most unfortunate circumstance!
Thank you for the heads up Justric!
Yup, it was Kuro! I just wanted to ask the folks who currently have a character in the hangar: there's lots of visitors! At the moment I intend Abby to come to the hangar too, but I don't want to step on anything anyone has going, or accidentally ignore anyone's characters who might be about - does anyone down there have any plans or ongoing collaborations in the works?
I just wanted to ask the folks who currently have a character in the hangar: there's lots of visitors! At the moment I intend Abby to come to the hangar too, but I don't want to step on anything anyone has going, or accidentally ignore anyone's characters who might be about - does anyone down there have any plans or ongoing collaborations in the works?Totally worth the double post Dot - so wonderful to finally get to see Park and Maya! Park's wonderful, and I do wonder if Maya is going to "get" Jack or not 
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