(I keep being nagged by my CoH friends to post some of my stories here instead of just on The Militia forum, and I've finally run out of excuses...)
[u]Archer's First[u]
Atlas Park, Paragon City, RI. April 2006
The afternoon breeze plays through Atlas Park carrying the scents of street vendors and exhaust fumes. No doubting youre in the city now. A woman hurries home, her heels clicking a rapid beat on the sidewalk. She's clasping her handbag to her chest like a child's favourite toy, furtive glances left and right signal her apprehension and labelling her a victim.
A pair of kids in halloween half masks detach themselves from the car they are vandalising. Some inner predatory sense picks up her trail and theyre on her. Two lions stalking a gazelle. One steps in front of her, while the other puts his hand on her shoulder. Her personal space isnt hers anymore.
My friend likes you, the first one says. The second thug snickers as he squeezes her shoulder. And I like your purse. You reckon we can all share? His smile is a sneer on a scarred lip, but his eyes are all danger.
Please, take the purse. I dont want any trouble. She says as she shrinks into herself, becoming smaller, more fragile.
Trouble... He says, like hes tasting the word. Yeah, I like that.
He puts his hand in his jacket pocket, and pulls out his switchblade.
*CLICK*
A small sound, but its all she needs to start sobbing. The sharpened steel glints in the sunshine.
*TWANG* *THUNK*
*TWANG* *THUNK*
Suddenly the kid has sprouted two arrows from his chest. The switchblade falls numbly from his fingers as he looks down in surprise, before crumpling to the floor. A police drone hovers into view to teleport the kid into custody, as at the same time a figure in red leaps down from a nearby bus shelter roof.
The other gang member is an old hand and doesnt react slowly. A pistol is in his hand and his arm is locked around the womans throat. Her handbag, forgotten, lays next to the switchblade at her feet.
Back off, man, or Ill do the old lady. The kid threatens, his voice quivering with anger and apprehension.
The figure in red, his face shadowed with a hood, doesnt move. His right hand holds his bow; his left an arrow. He stands like a gunfighter waiting for the clock tower bell. High noon.
Suddenly a city bus passes between them, and the archer is gone.
*TWANG* *THUNK*
His hand opens and drops the gun as the pain from the arrow in his forearm overwrites his bravado. The red bowman leaps from the top of the bus, tumbling in mid air, and loosing three deadly arrows from his bow at once.
*TWANG* *THUNK* *THUNK* *THUNK*
The first arrow hits the boy in his shoulder, spinning him away from the woman as the second hits him in the knee, driving him to the ground. The third arrow imbeds itself in a crack in the sidewalk, pinning the boy to the floor through his jacket.
The police drone, silently filming and waiting, orders another custodial teleport as the woman grabs her bag from the floor and rushes over the man in red.
OhthankyouthatsthethirdtimethisweekIcantthankyo uenough! She gabbles, tripping over the words in her relief. Youremynewfavouritehero!
Crimson Archer reaches his red gloved hands into his hood and takes out the white earphones. A muted and tinny rendition of Nirvanas Lithium can be heard against the citys background murmur.
Sorry maam, but yer gonna have ta repeat that, He says, his soft, southern drawl flowing like molasses. Ah had my 'Pod on a little too loud during that one. Ah find a lil music helps ya work. Doncha think?
A wide, open grin cuts through the darkness within his hood and his blue eyes sparkle, as the woman finds she cant help herself but laugh.
END.
Formerly @Crimson Archer, now @CA The Militia - Protecting Paragon City through roleplaying since June 2006!
Posted
Ahhh chuckled so much first time I read this. Real classy! Still holds it charm second time round
Posted
*sigh* If only Archer was still no innocent and naive.....
Still holds it charm second time round
(I keep being nagged by my CoH friends to post some of my stories here instead of just on The Militia forum, and I've finally run out of excuses...)
[u]Archer's First[u]
Atlas Park, Paragon City, RI.
April 2006
The afternoon breeze plays through Atlas Park carrying the scents of street vendors and exhaust fumes. No doubting youre in the city now. A woman hurries home, her heels clicking a rapid beat on the sidewalk. She's clasping her handbag to her chest like a child's favourite toy, furtive glances left and right signal her apprehension and labelling her a victim.
A pair of kids in halloween half masks detach themselves from the car they are vandalising. Some inner predatory sense picks up her trail and theyre on her. Two lions stalking a gazelle. One steps in front of her, while the other puts his hand on her shoulder. Her personal space isnt hers anymore.
My friend likes you, the first one says. The second thug snickers as he squeezes her shoulder. And I like your purse. You reckon we can all share? His smile is a sneer on a scarred lip, but his eyes are all danger.
Please, take the purse. I dont want any trouble. She says as she shrinks into herself, becoming smaller, more fragile.
Trouble... He says, like hes tasting the word. Yeah, I like that.
He puts his hand in his jacket pocket, and pulls out his switchblade.
*CLICK*
A small sound, but its all she needs to start sobbing. The sharpened steel glints in the sunshine.
*TWANG* *THUNK*
*TWANG* *THUNK*
Suddenly the kid has sprouted two arrows from his chest. The switchblade falls numbly from his fingers as he looks down in surprise, before crumpling to the floor. A police drone hovers into view to teleport the kid into custody, as at the same time a figure in red leaps down from a nearby bus shelter roof.
The other gang member is an old hand and doesnt react slowly. A pistol is in his hand and his arm is locked around the womans throat. Her handbag, forgotten, lays next to the switchblade at her feet.
Back off, man, or Ill do the old lady. The kid threatens, his voice quivering with anger and apprehension.
The figure in red, his face shadowed with a hood, doesnt move. His right hand holds his bow; his left an arrow. He stands like a gunfighter waiting for the clock tower bell. High noon.
Suddenly a city bus passes between them, and the archer is gone.
*TWANG* *THUNK*
His hand opens and drops the gun as the pain from the arrow in his forearm overwrites his bravado. The red bowman leaps from the top of the bus, tumbling in mid air, and loosing three deadly arrows from his bow at once.
*TWANG* *THUNK* *THUNK* *THUNK*
The first arrow hits the boy in his shoulder, spinning him away from the woman as the second hits him in the knee, driving him to the ground. The third arrow imbeds itself in a crack in the sidewalk, pinning the boy to the floor through his jacket.
The police drone, silently filming and waiting, orders another custodial teleport as the woman grabs her bag from the floor and rushes over the man in red.
OhthankyouthatsthethirdtimethisweekIcantthankyo uenough! She gabbles, tripping over the words in her relief. Youremynewfavouritehero!
Crimson Archer reaches his red gloved hands into his hood and takes out the white earphones. A muted and tinny rendition of Nirvanas Lithium can be heard against the citys background murmur.
Sorry maam, but yer gonna have ta repeat that, He says, his soft, southern drawl flowing like molasses. Ah had my 'Pod on a little too loud during that one. Ah find a lil music helps ya work. Doncha think?
A wide, open grin cuts through the darkness within his hood and his blue eyes sparkle, as the woman finds she cant help herself but laugh.
END.
Formerly @Crimson Archer, now @CA
The Militia - Protecting Paragon City through roleplaying since June 2006!