lil-rebbitzen (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lil_rebbitzen) wrote2010-01-18 08:29 pm
lil_rebbitzen) wrote2010-01-18 08:29 pm
Entry tags:
Story Previews FTW
Alright, so here's some previews for some upcoming stories, including Sinful Rose, Crimson King, though I'm not sure if i can put it into a prompt easily...
That story is DEFINITELY a longfic...
Sinful Rose
Warning: Violence, and a bit of silly melodrama from the SR... >_< *isn't sure whether to take that out or not*
Also, SPOILERS for the SR's identity!! You have been warned...(Not that most of you hadn't figured it out by now... :P)
Takes place in their 20s
~~~
A poisoned apple, to those who stand in the way.
It's the strategy, as promised.
Betrayal and the like is not so wrong anymore,
As the undead butterflies dance 'round with their black wings.
Glass crunched beneath the Sinful Rose’s boots, the sound abnormally loud in the silent twilight. She backed up, almost slipping off the window ledge doing so, and she cursed under her breath as a jagged piece of glass sliced through olive skin on her forearm, a small stream of crimson dripping down the length of it. Wrapping a handkerchief of red around the cut, she made a mental note to bandage it up properly when she got home; hopping through the window, avoiding the glass this time -quite easy, as it glittered brightly in the moonlight-, she motioned to her partner. “Rowan, get up here! And watch for the glass!” She whispered, albeit loudly. Agent Rowan grumbled back something as he pulled himself up onto the ledge. Rose sighed at how long it was taking him, and held back the urge to kick him for being so damn slow, lest it make him fall off and ruin everything. Instead, she checked her pouch for the her instruments. HCN, NaCN, the tubes…all here. Excellent…She adjusted her black leather gloves, popped a rice candy into her mouth -an odd thing to do, but a calming mechanism she had started and done before every single mission, and it hadn‘t failed her yet, so why not?-, and turned to her companion. “Well, shall we begin?”
“As quickly as we may. That noise may have alerted someone.” Rowan growled, climbing over the windowsill, narrowly avoiding cutting himself as well.
“I do it no other way,” She chuckled, popping off the piece of glass from the window that had scraped her in order to erase the evidence. They walked through the dusty upper room, an attic from the looks of it, filled with old and torn memories of years past. Rose did her best to ignore the dirty and forgotten dolls that looked like something she might have played with as a little girl, something her own little girl might play with, and got ready for what lay on the other side of the oaken door. She slowly turned the handle, making no more noise than a rattata, and opened the door. What lay beyond looked like more darkness, except for a small stream of moonlight coming from some curtains that fluttered in the night breeze.
Danger…not what…seems… Rose shook her head, trying to clear it from the interfering, foreign thoughts. The thoughts repeated, and they had a lilt to them, like many tricksters did. A ghost type? She wondered. Well, no matter. The two operatives entered the room, quietly -or so they thought-, when the door slammed shut behind them. Rose swung around, and Rowan tried the door. “Locked shut. Damn it.” He muttered.
She sighed, and turned back to the darkness, and, as she got used to the lack of light, frowned when she saw some shadows move. She readied herself. “Come on out, we know you‘re here!” She barked, and was actually a little surprised when a figure emerged from the shadows, enough that she could make at a slim, masculine frame about 5 feet from her.
The shadow chuckled, and clapped a little. “Well, you actually found me, Rose. I can’t say I was fully expecting this, as I’ve done my best to remain hidden from your radar.” He shrugged, “But then again, they say no one has escaped you yet.” There was a definite emphasis on ‘yet’. The gravel voice was…was he laughing!?
Rose’s blood boiled furiously, and she waved her hand in the air with a grandiose manner, “Do you enjoy this?! See that there are two of us against one of you, mortal, and weep, for your death is close at hand!”
The shadow burst out laughing, “Ah, what melodrama. It would be very fitting and epic, if those were indeed the odds, but you seem to have them flipped.”
Rose blinked, though her black bangs hid her surprised eyes from her opponent. “What…oh f*ck…” she muttered, as she felt hands on her shoulder from behind. “And how long have you been in this imbecile’s snares, Rowan?”
Rowan had a small rope in one hand, and he chuckled, “Actually I’ve been on his side the whole time. I just became a double agent to try to get close to the elusive ‘Sinful Rose’ that has been evading us time and time again, slaughtering our agents in her wake, leaving none alive, the only sign that it wasn’t a simple natural death a single blood red rose with the word ‘Sinner’ on a white ribbon.”
“I promise, this time there shall be two roses, and none shall mourn you.”
The shadow laughed, as he waltzed up to her, “No, I don’t believe that shall be the case this time. You see, there shall be only one body, and there will be no one left alive to mourn you, because when you are out of the way, there will be many deaths following yours.” He sighed, gently cupping her chin in his hands, and Rowan started to pull the rope around her neck, slowly strangling her, “a pity too, Ms. Seren, as you really are quite beautiful, even when you strike others down to their demise. And even more so in this moonlight…” He saw her violet eyes flash at the name, and he smiled, “Ah, good, I was right. I was actually just guessing, but now I know who to attack next. First, it shall be you, then…I don’t know, shall it be your Boss’s son that you are rumored to be married to, or that lovely little girl of yours? Hm…no, I think I shall keep the little one as a …pet, if you will.” Through the struggle for oxygen, Seren felt her anger rise at the suggestion, and she tried to scream, but the rope cut her off, and she continued to fight for every breath that she could get when she could get the rope away from her neck long enough to do so. Chuckling, the target continued, “Hm, perhaps I should have my way with you as you die, and do the same to the little one…no, the first idea was better.” He turned from her and started for the door on the other side, then stopped, “I’ll be back for your gorgeous body later. Have fun, as will I. Oh, any last words?”
From seemingly out of nowhere, a small black ball of energy hit Rowan in the back, and he screamed out in pain. As he did, he loosened his grip just enough for her to use the rope as a leverage, and she threw him over her head towards the target standing in front of her, still taunting her. Rowan landed on him, knocking both of them down, and she leaped onto them as they fell. She jabbed a hidden syringe into Rowan’s neck, and another into her target’s. “Yeah, four... Go… To ..Hell…bastards.” She hopped off them as they writhed violently from the poison, and finally lay still.
After they did, Seren collapsed to her knees, gasping for breath. The adrenaline of the last moment had done nothing to help with the lack of oxygen she had just experienced.
As she panted for air, a formerly transparent entity formed in front of her that looked like a small ball of gas. Didn’t I tell you there was danger?
She heard the Ghastly’s voice in her head, and she sighed, “Yes, and I should have listened. Thank you.”
Those humans have been hurting both my kind and yours for awhile. It feels good to finally have them gone.
“I’m glad.” Standing up, Seren felt her neck and winced at the feeling of the impression the rope had made. “Looks like I’m going to be wearing a high-necked shirt tomorrow…” She muttered, coughing. “Thank you again.” She looked at the bodies, and pulled out two blood red roses out of her jacket. They had had the same fate as her others, so they deserved the same treatment afterwards. She scribbled something on the white ribbon on each one, and tossed them onto the corpses. After lock-picking the door, she waved good-bye to the Ghastly and left. After a couple of seconds, he heard a Fearow’s cry, and the sound of it taking off with its master in tow. The Ghastly moved closer towards the roses to read them. On both were words in Latin on white satin ribbon affixed to the stem, small droplets of the victims‘ blood amongst the petals. It seemed that Rowan Omin and Warin Moon were now the official 200th and 201st victims of the Sinful Rose.
The sunrise that morning was magnificent - any and all stray clouds had retreated to the very edges of the sky, revealing a lightening cobalt blanket above Seren as she flew home. It was streaked with expanses of vibrant yellows and pinks, blending and separating and blending again, creating shades of velvety indigo and sunny orange, soft pinks and steely blues. It was absolutely breathtaking.
It would have been more so if she had been awake for any of it.
~Tsumi na Bara
~~~~~~~~~~
Here's the preview for when Seren's being tortured in Crimson King...
Warning: Contains violence, not suitable for anyone under 14.
Takes place about a year and a half ago (August 2008), so they're about 43
Damn it all, that failed spectacularly. Seren thought angrily, as she tried to wipe some of the blood from her body in her hiding place. She was in a dark room, partially naked, bleeding badly, and exhausted. She had tried to escape when a guard came to see what her yelling was all about, but when they had tried to make a break for it after knocking the guard out, they had very quickly been taken prisoner once again. Jessie had been led back to her cell…Seren had not be so lucky. They had taken her to one of the torture chambers, and, after stripping her of all clothing -except for her necklace, which she had stubbornly held onto, and they had finally let her keep it-(“Let her have a false sense of hope”, she had heard one guard joke to the other, “it makes them last longer..”), they had tied her down to what was probably an old autopsy table, she figured, by the blood stains…
*
Seren spat at the guard as he tied her arms down to the rusted metal table, struggling for something to use to get out of his grip. He slapped her across the face, and she felt a trickle of blood run down her cheek. “If you want to even keep that shitty little trinket, you better stay still, bitch.” Seren, very reluctantly, obeyed, knowing that the tracking device might be what saved her ass in the end…or at least let them find her to give her a proper burial. She shivered as they tied her waist down to the table. She was completely naked, the room chill, the metal felt like the bastards had just pulled it out of the freezer, and she hated every second of it, not just because of the fact it was extremely uncomfortable, but from them humiliating her, whistling and…touching her- oh, she was furious when they had touched her like that. She felt so incredibly violated, their fingers going places she would have only let her husband touch as they had torn her uniform off. She had already decided that they would be the first people she took out when she escaped, and that she would figure a way to make them just as humiliated as they lay dying. ‘A well placed metal object or something should do the trick…’ she thought angrily to herself, grimacing as the bonds bit her wrists.
One of the men grabbed her left breast, and she growled angrily at him, hating not being able to do anything to stop him. Damn it, she wanted to kick his f*cking head off just like that skeleton she had earlier. “Unhand me, now, you son of a bitch!” She yelled, struggling against her ropes.
He squeezed harder to point where it physically hurt, and grinned maliciously, “Whatcha going to do about it, babe? You’ve got these huge tits, I just couldn’t resist. If you screw me, I might think about reducing your ‘fun’ (their description of the torture, most certainly not hers), or maybe even letting you go…”
“Go to hell.” She growled through bared teeth.
“Fine, don’t take my offer,” he pinched her nipple hard and left with his friend, laughing at her condition, leaving her in the room all alone. Seren sighed, wondering what was to happen next, and thinking of her family, thinking of being in her husband's embrace, him running his fingers through her hair as he told her everything would be okay, like he had always done whenever something went wrong. How she longed to be in his arms right now. I miss you so much... She was interrupted just as she was getting to the nice part when she heard the door open with a loud screech, and slam shut. Looking up, she felt her face flush pink, and her ire rise again, even higher. “You.” She hissed.
The man, tall and thin, grinned, “I’m surprised you recognize me, Ms. Awres. Oh wait, it’s Mrs. Rocket…or is it Rochat… now, isn’t it? I forgot, the other was when Brendan screwed you…”
“He RAPED me, you asshole!”
“Oh yes, that's right.” he replied, rummaging through some drawers on the wall. “I almost didn’t recognize you. It’s been almost…no, it’s been over 20 years, and you still have a fantastic body. The years have been very good to you…too bad that’s all about to change.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, Johnatan?”
He chuckled, pulling out a dull scalpel, “Aw, you remember my name. I’m flattered…in any case, do you happen to remember the number of our men you have killed? Including the one you took out earlier this week?”
“Around seventy-three…why?” She said, dreading the answer.
“Well…today, you’re going to pay for all the lives you’ve taken. Since I can’t kill you that many times, I’ve come up with a suitably painful idea instead.” He cupped her chin in his hand, stroking her cheek, “It really pains me to do this to such a rare, beautiful, deadly creature such as yourself..”
“Yeah, I can tell you’re really torn up,” she muttered, sarcasm dripping from her voice.
Johnatan smiled, “You were always very stubborn. I suppose that hasn’t changed…are you interested in hearing what I’ll be doing to you?”
“I suppose I’ll have to hear it anyway…”
“Yes, you would. Well, for each death you’ve caused, I’ll be using this scalpel on your naked skin. And not a nice, small nick either. Each cut will be about 1-2 inches long, and will be all over your body by the time I’m done…if you haven’t passed out from the pain or blood loss by then.” He saw her completely calm face, and smiled, “ well, ‘I can tell you’re really torn up’, or at least you shall be after I‘m done with you. I suppose I shall go ahead and begin then.” Seren closed her eyes, readying herself for what was coming…but nothing could prepare her for the pain that shot up through her body as the knife drew across the underside of one of her breasts, blood streaming out of the wound. She let out a terrible, pained scream that reverberated throughout the chamber. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she heard Johnatan say, “One... Tajiri Sato.” Do you remember him?”
“I only tend to remember those that given me a hard time. Since it was my first, I do sort of. He was weak, and died quickly, so he did not die in pain.”
“Yes, well, that will not be the case here.” This time, the dull scalpel dragged against her stomach, from her left hip towards her navel. He heard her growl ‘damn it’, and smiled, “Two... Could it be that you’re coming close to breaking already?”
“Not on your pathetic, worthless life, bastard. I’ve given birth to ten children, four of which were trying to come all at the same time,” he couldn’t tell if she was grinning, or just baring her teeth, “If I can handle having them naturally, I can handle several knife wounds.”
“Nice to know you’ll be staying with us for awhile, then.” He had continued, counting with each horrible cut, pain racking her body. After about 30 or so cuts, Johnatan stopped, poking her motionless body with the knife, and sighed. “Hm, passed out already? I’m surprised with you, Seren. Oh well, I’ll let you lay there for a time until you’re back with the living.” With that, he left the room reluctantly.
Seren opened her eyes after several minutes, to make sure no one else was there, and groaned in anguish. The blood had finally soaked through part of the ropes; realizing this, she wriggled her wrists around to check is there was any room to get out. “At least blood is slippery,” she muttered sardonically, grimacing as the rope cut into her hands. When finally she got her left hand free, it hit something; she strained to see it, and grinned. “He actually left the scalpel here?” She knew there was a chance it was a trap, since she figured him to never be that careless. Deciding to take the chance though, she grabbed the knife, and started sawing at the rope tying down her right hand, and from there, the rest of her body.
As soon as she got free, she swung her legs, bleeding from cuts on her thighs, over the side of the table, and sighed. Her body felt drained, though she knew that she hadn’t lost that much blood, and, if it wouldn’t have slowed her down, she would have started crying. She forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand, and quickly checked through the drawers to see if there was anything clean to bandage up with. Coming up empty, except for her own clothes, she sighed and grabbed her skirt, and tried to sop up some of the blood, so it wouldn’t drip and leave a trail. While it was moderately successful, the open wounds worried her, since she had been on that nasty table that had had only god knew what else on it.
Grimacing in the fact the skirt didn’t cover up much, since they had ripped it when they had torn it off of her, she put it around her waist and fashioned a pseudo-bikini to cover herself while she escaped. After all, nothing drew attention quite like a bleeding, naked woman running through the halls. Pulling her old shirt back on, she quietly opened the door, and peeked outside carefully. Surprisingly, the hallways were empty and moderately dark, which would make sneaking a bit easier…if the smell of blood didn’t alert anyone, that was. She spotted a conveniently placed map on the wall, and crept out to check it.
An atomic clock above explained to her why the hallways were quiet, as it was rather late at night, and she made a mental note to try to keep track of time while she tried to get to one of the medical supply rooms, and then of Silver's room. ‘At least it’s not too far.’ She reasoned, when she heard footsteps coming down the opposite hallway, and ducked into one of the rooms, locking it behind her. Looking around for a hiding place, she looked over saw a rather large air vent on the wall. ‘I suppose beggars can’t be choosers…well, not right now, anyways. Thank G-d for stupid people making my life easier. I should make sure when I get back that headquarters that we aren’t so foolhardy.’ Unscrewing it with a flat edge she had found in the office she was in, she popped off the grate and looked in. Dust came out of the vent as she removed it, and she sneezed.
“Hey, what was that?” Somebody outside said, trying the door. Seren hurriedly placed the grate on the ground, and hid. The door opened, and a pair of guards walked in, flashlights illuminating the dark, sweeping the area. “There’s a grate on the floor? Was there maintenance scheduled today?” He asked, peeking into the vent with the torch.
“Don’t ask me. Are you sure you heard something? I think you’ve been drinking too much again, personally,” the other guard shrugged.
“Come on, you obviously need to stop getting drunk on duty.”
“One drink ain’t enough to get me drunk!” The first growled, standing up, and started for the door.
“Lightweight,” the other chuckled, opening the door for his coworker.
“I swear, I heard something. Sounded like someone sne…” the voice trailed off down the hall through the closed door. As the voices drifted, Seren poked her head out from underneath the desk, and sighed, glad she hadn’t hid in the air vent. She scrambled into it, crawling as slowly and silently as possible toward her goal…
~Crimson King
~~~~~~
And finally, part of my wanted prompt:
“Richard Smith. One of the more sought after men in these parts. Age: 28, goes by Ricardo Martinez, John Schumacher…a whole slew of others. Heck, who knows if Richard Smith is his real name?…only known family is in the States.” The red head said, sitting at her large computer terminal, her friends looking at it intently. Her lavender haired husband came in, offering some tea to the trio. “Notice anything odd about him?”
The brown haired man chuckled, sipping at his tea, “Besides that he has a longer list of felonies than I, at such a young age no less, and if his Schumacher alias has a brother named Joel, I want to kill him. Beyond that, no, not really.”
His wife groaned, flicking her husband’s ear in annoyance. He just smiled at her, which annoyed her even more. She was a beautiful woman, her eyes soft and gentle like the rest of her face, which was framed by black tendrils of hair, her body lithe and well-taken care of: not precisely thin, she had too much muscle for that, but with just enough curve on her medium frame to fill out her clothes nicely, and to not look like a chopstick. Had there not been so many scars on her body, and the slight wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth from laughing so much in her married life not been there, she might have been even more so to a normal passerby. Not that her husband cared what another man thought, so long as the man wasn’t trying to get fresh with her, for he had always believed her to be the most beautiful woman, in both soul and body, he had ever known. He thought her even more adorable when she was twerked off, which of course exacerbated it.
The red head frowned, “I checked around, and rumour has it he’s one of those in the neo-Rockets.”
Her black haired friend grimaced at the name, “So he’s been causing trouble, hasn’t he?”
“Yep.”
“I wonder if their leader thought things would end up like this when he dissolved the original Team Rocket.” The ebon haired woman said, throwing a glance at her husband.
The brown haired man’s eyes flashed, before he shrugged, “Who can predict things such as this?”
His wife smirked, “Indeed. Where has this Richard last been seen?”
The red head pulled up a satellite map of the area around Vermillion, now a ruined shadow of its former glory. “Our sources say he’s a frequent at The Smiling Wolf pub.”
A non-existent eyebrow was raised on the brunette man, “our normal haunt when we’re here?”
The red head shrugged, “Appears to be the case, sir.”
He nodded, “well, looks like that will be our next target. What’s the reward on this one?” She hit a button, and a large number popped up on the screen. He grinned, “That’s more than enough to keep us and this bucket of bolts running comfortably for a month or two. Might as well see if we can get some information before someone else beats us to it. Come on, honey.” He took his wife’s hand in his, and they walked off together to get ready.
The red head’s husband sighed, running a hand through his lavender hair as he put the other on his wife‘s shoulder, “Who names a pub ‘The Smiling Wolf’?”
“A smart ass who thought he was being clever,” his wife muttered, “I can’t believe we’re running into more of these idiots. What part of Giovanni saying, ‘It’s over, Team Rocket’s finished’ did they not get? Get on with your lives, people!”
“Well, we almost didn’t, until we got let on here,” He reminded her, kissing her forehead.
“That’s true…” She held his hand, “I hope they don’t get hurt out there.” It was an odd thought. Before they would have hoped that they wouldn’t get killed on account that the two of them would be out of a job…these past 3...no, 4 years had changed that. Now it was because of an odd sort of camaraderie that had developed among the four of them and the rest of their little team.
“Let’s just watch, and see what happens,” the ebony haired woman’s husband said, taking a sip of his own drink, when his cell phone went off. With a frustrated sigh, he answered it, “Hello? Oh, hey. Kind of busy, do you need something, kid?… Oh, well, let me see how some things shape up, and I’ll let you know. Thank you, though. Alright, say hi to the little one and Mist for me.” He flipped it closed. In response to his wife’s raised eyebrow, “Ash wanting to see if the team would like to get together for dinner next week.”
His wife smiled, “ah. He didn’t freak out when you called him ‘kid’?”
“Oh he did, I just ignored him.” He chuckled, when he spotted Richard starting to leave in the mirror, “Preda è in movimento.” Simply put, ‘The prey is on the move.’ She nodded, and they waited until he had left before quickly placing their payment on the table and stalking after him.
EDIT: Don't read that one, read the one I just posted above, please.
Let me know what you think, por favor! Thank you!
That story is DEFINITELY a longfic...
Sinful Rose
Warning: Violence, and a bit of silly melodrama from the SR... >_< *isn't sure whether to take that out or not*
Also, SPOILERS for the SR's identity!! You have been warned...(Not that most of you hadn't figured it out by now... :P)
Takes place in their 20s
~~~
A poisoned apple, to those who stand in the way.
It's the strategy, as promised.
Betrayal and the like is not so wrong anymore,
As the undead butterflies dance 'round with their black wings.
Glass crunched beneath the Sinful Rose’s boots, the sound abnormally loud in the silent twilight. She backed up, almost slipping off the window ledge doing so, and she cursed under her breath as a jagged piece of glass sliced through olive skin on her forearm, a small stream of crimson dripping down the length of it. Wrapping a handkerchief of red around the cut, she made a mental note to bandage it up properly when she got home; hopping through the window, avoiding the glass this time -quite easy, as it glittered brightly in the moonlight-, she motioned to her partner. “Rowan, get up here! And watch for the glass!” She whispered, albeit loudly. Agent Rowan grumbled back something as he pulled himself up onto the ledge. Rose sighed at how long it was taking him, and held back the urge to kick him for being so damn slow, lest it make him fall off and ruin everything. Instead, she checked her pouch for the her instruments. HCN, NaCN, the tubes…all here. Excellent…She adjusted her black leather gloves, popped a rice candy into her mouth -an odd thing to do, but a calming mechanism she had started and done before every single mission, and it hadn‘t failed her yet, so why not?-, and turned to her companion. “Well, shall we begin?”
“As quickly as we may. That noise may have alerted someone.” Rowan growled, climbing over the windowsill, narrowly avoiding cutting himself as well.
“I do it no other way,” She chuckled, popping off the piece of glass from the window that had scraped her in order to erase the evidence. They walked through the dusty upper room, an attic from the looks of it, filled with old and torn memories of years past. Rose did her best to ignore the dirty and forgotten dolls that looked like something she might have played with as a little girl, something her own little girl might play with, and got ready for what lay on the other side of the oaken door. She slowly turned the handle, making no more noise than a rattata, and opened the door. What lay beyond looked like more darkness, except for a small stream of moonlight coming from some curtains that fluttered in the night breeze.
Danger…not what…seems… Rose shook her head, trying to clear it from the interfering, foreign thoughts. The thoughts repeated, and they had a lilt to them, like many tricksters did. A ghost type? She wondered. Well, no matter. The two operatives entered the room, quietly -or so they thought-, when the door slammed shut behind them. Rose swung around, and Rowan tried the door. “Locked shut. Damn it.” He muttered.
She sighed, and turned back to the darkness, and, as she got used to the lack of light, frowned when she saw some shadows move. She readied herself. “Come on out, we know you‘re here!” She barked, and was actually a little surprised when a figure emerged from the shadows, enough that she could make at a slim, masculine frame about 5 feet from her.
The shadow chuckled, and clapped a little. “Well, you actually found me, Rose. I can’t say I was fully expecting this, as I’ve done my best to remain hidden from your radar.” He shrugged, “But then again, they say no one has escaped you yet.” There was a definite emphasis on ‘yet’. The gravel voice was…was he laughing!?
Rose’s blood boiled furiously, and she waved her hand in the air with a grandiose manner, “Do you enjoy this?! See that there are two of us against one of you, mortal, and weep, for your death is close at hand!”
The shadow burst out laughing, “Ah, what melodrama. It would be very fitting and epic, if those were indeed the odds, but you seem to have them flipped.”
Rose blinked, though her black bangs hid her surprised eyes from her opponent. “What…oh f*ck…” she muttered, as she felt hands on her shoulder from behind. “And how long have you been in this imbecile’s snares, Rowan?”
Rowan had a small rope in one hand, and he chuckled, “Actually I’ve been on his side the whole time. I just became a double agent to try to get close to the elusive ‘Sinful Rose’ that has been evading us time and time again, slaughtering our agents in her wake, leaving none alive, the only sign that it wasn’t a simple natural death a single blood red rose with the word ‘Sinner’ on a white ribbon.”
“I promise, this time there shall be two roses, and none shall mourn you.”
The shadow laughed, as he waltzed up to her, “No, I don’t believe that shall be the case this time. You see, there shall be only one body, and there will be no one left alive to mourn you, because when you are out of the way, there will be many deaths following yours.” He sighed, gently cupping her chin in his hands, and Rowan started to pull the rope around her neck, slowly strangling her, “a pity too, Ms. Seren, as you really are quite beautiful, even when you strike others down to their demise. And even more so in this moonlight…” He saw her violet eyes flash at the name, and he smiled, “Ah, good, I was right. I was actually just guessing, but now I know who to attack next. First, it shall be you, then…I don’t know, shall it be your Boss’s son that you are rumored to be married to, or that lovely little girl of yours? Hm…no, I think I shall keep the little one as a …pet, if you will.” Through the struggle for oxygen, Seren felt her anger rise at the suggestion, and she tried to scream, but the rope cut her off, and she continued to fight for every breath that she could get when she could get the rope away from her neck long enough to do so. Chuckling, the target continued, “Hm, perhaps I should have my way with you as you die, and do the same to the little one…no, the first idea was better.” He turned from her and started for the door on the other side, then stopped, “I’ll be back for your gorgeous body later. Have fun, as will I. Oh, any last words?”
From seemingly out of nowhere, a small black ball of energy hit Rowan in the back, and he screamed out in pain. As he did, he loosened his grip just enough for her to use the rope as a leverage, and she threw him over her head towards the target standing in front of her, still taunting her. Rowan landed on him, knocking both of them down, and she leaped onto them as they fell. She jabbed a hidden syringe into Rowan’s neck, and another into her target’s. “Yeah, four... Go… To ..Hell…bastards.” She hopped off them as they writhed violently from the poison, and finally lay still.
After they did, Seren collapsed to her knees, gasping for breath. The adrenaline of the last moment had done nothing to help with the lack of oxygen she had just experienced.
As she panted for air, a formerly transparent entity formed in front of her that looked like a small ball of gas. Didn’t I tell you there was danger?
She heard the Ghastly’s voice in her head, and she sighed, “Yes, and I should have listened. Thank you.”
Those humans have been hurting both my kind and yours for awhile. It feels good to finally have them gone.
“I’m glad.” Standing up, Seren felt her neck and winced at the feeling of the impression the rope had made. “Looks like I’m going to be wearing a high-necked shirt tomorrow…” She muttered, coughing. “Thank you again.” She looked at the bodies, and pulled out two blood red roses out of her jacket. They had had the same fate as her others, so they deserved the same treatment afterwards. She scribbled something on the white ribbon on each one, and tossed them onto the corpses. After lock-picking the door, she waved good-bye to the Ghastly and left. After a couple of seconds, he heard a Fearow’s cry, and the sound of it taking off with its master in tow. The Ghastly moved closer towards the roses to read them. On both were words in Latin on white satin ribbon affixed to the stem, small droplets of the victims‘ blood amongst the petals. It seemed that Rowan Omin and Warin Moon were now the official 200th and 201st victims of the Sinful Rose.
The sunrise that morning was magnificent - any and all stray clouds had retreated to the very edges of the sky, revealing a lightening cobalt blanket above Seren as she flew home. It was streaked with expanses of vibrant yellows and pinks, blending and separating and blending again, creating shades of velvety indigo and sunny orange, soft pinks and steely blues. It was absolutely breathtaking.
It would have been more so if she had been awake for any of it.
~Tsumi na Bara
~~~~~~~~~~
Here's the preview for when Seren's being tortured in Crimson King...
Warning: Contains violence, not suitable for anyone under 14.
Takes place about a year and a half ago (August 2008), so they're about 43
Damn it all, that failed spectacularly. Seren thought angrily, as she tried to wipe some of the blood from her body in her hiding place. She was in a dark room, partially naked, bleeding badly, and exhausted. She had tried to escape when a guard came to see what her yelling was all about, but when they had tried to make a break for it after knocking the guard out, they had very quickly been taken prisoner once again. Jessie had been led back to her cell…Seren had not be so lucky. They had taken her to one of the torture chambers, and, after stripping her of all clothing -except for her necklace, which she had stubbornly held onto, and they had finally let her keep it-(“Let her have a false sense of hope”, she had heard one guard joke to the other, “it makes them last longer..”), they had tied her down to what was probably an old autopsy table, she figured, by the blood stains…
*
Seren spat at the guard as he tied her arms down to the rusted metal table, struggling for something to use to get out of his grip. He slapped her across the face, and she felt a trickle of blood run down her cheek. “If you want to even keep that shitty little trinket, you better stay still, bitch.” Seren, very reluctantly, obeyed, knowing that the tracking device might be what saved her ass in the end…or at least let them find her to give her a proper burial. She shivered as they tied her waist down to the table. She was completely naked, the room chill, the metal felt like the bastards had just pulled it out of the freezer, and she hated every second of it, not just because of the fact it was extremely uncomfortable, but from them humiliating her, whistling and…touching her- oh, she was furious when they had touched her like that. She felt so incredibly violated, their fingers going places she would have only let her husband touch as they had torn her uniform off. She had already decided that they would be the first people she took out when she escaped, and that she would figure a way to make them just as humiliated as they lay dying. ‘A well placed metal object or something should do the trick…’ she thought angrily to herself, grimacing as the bonds bit her wrists.
One of the men grabbed her left breast, and she growled angrily at him, hating not being able to do anything to stop him. Damn it, she wanted to kick his f*cking head off just like that skeleton she had earlier. “Unhand me, now, you son of a bitch!” She yelled, struggling against her ropes.
He squeezed harder to point where it physically hurt, and grinned maliciously, “Whatcha going to do about it, babe? You’ve got these huge tits, I just couldn’t resist. If you screw me, I might think about reducing your ‘fun’ (their description of the torture, most certainly not hers), or maybe even letting you go…”
“Go to hell.” She growled through bared teeth.
“Fine, don’t take my offer,” he pinched her nipple hard and left with his friend, laughing at her condition, leaving her in the room all alone. Seren sighed, wondering what was to happen next, and thinking of her family, thinking of being in her husband's embrace, him running his fingers through her hair as he told her everything would be okay, like he had always done whenever something went wrong. How she longed to be in his arms right now. I miss you so much... She was interrupted just as she was getting to the nice part when she heard the door open with a loud screech, and slam shut. Looking up, she felt her face flush pink, and her ire rise again, even higher. “You.” She hissed.
The man, tall and thin, grinned, “I’m surprised you recognize me, Ms. Awres. Oh wait, it’s Mrs. Rocket…or is it Rochat… now, isn’t it? I forgot, the other was when Brendan screwed you…”
“He RAPED me, you asshole!”
“Oh yes, that's right.” he replied, rummaging through some drawers on the wall. “I almost didn’t recognize you. It’s been almost…no, it’s been over 20 years, and you still have a fantastic body. The years have been very good to you…too bad that’s all about to change.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, Johnatan?”
He chuckled, pulling out a dull scalpel, “Aw, you remember my name. I’m flattered…in any case, do you happen to remember the number of our men you have killed? Including the one you took out earlier this week?”
“Around seventy-three…why?” She said, dreading the answer.
“Well…today, you’re going to pay for all the lives you’ve taken. Since I can’t kill you that many times, I’ve come up with a suitably painful idea instead.” He cupped her chin in his hand, stroking her cheek, “It really pains me to do this to such a rare, beautiful, deadly creature such as yourself..”
“Yeah, I can tell you’re really torn up,” she muttered, sarcasm dripping from her voice.
Johnatan smiled, “You were always very stubborn. I suppose that hasn’t changed…are you interested in hearing what I’ll be doing to you?”
“I suppose I’ll have to hear it anyway…”
“Yes, you would. Well, for each death you’ve caused, I’ll be using this scalpel on your naked skin. And not a nice, small nick either. Each cut will be about 1-2 inches long, and will be all over your body by the time I’m done…if you haven’t passed out from the pain or blood loss by then.” He saw her completely calm face, and smiled, “ well, ‘I can tell you’re really torn up’, or at least you shall be after I‘m done with you. I suppose I shall go ahead and begin then.” Seren closed her eyes, readying herself for what was coming…but nothing could prepare her for the pain that shot up through her body as the knife drew across the underside of one of her breasts, blood streaming out of the wound. She let out a terrible, pained scream that reverberated throughout the chamber. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she heard Johnatan say, “One... Tajiri Sato
“I only tend to remember those that given me a hard time. Since it was my first, I do sort of. He was weak, and died quickly, so he did not die in pain.”
“Yes, well, that will not be the case here.” This time, the dull scalpel dragged against her stomach, from her left hip towards her navel. He heard her growl ‘damn it’, and smiled, “Two..
“Not on your pathetic, worthless life, bastard. I’ve given birth to ten children, four of which were trying to come all at the same time,” he couldn’t tell if she was grinning, or just baring her teeth, “If I can handle having them naturally, I can handle several knife wounds.”
“Nice to know you’ll be staying with us for awhile, then.” He had continued, counting with each horrible cut, pain racking her body. After about 30 or so cuts, Johnatan stopped, poking her motionless body with the knife, and sighed. “Hm, passed out already? I’m surprised with you, Seren. Oh well, I’ll let you lay there for a time until you’re back with the living.” With that, he left the room reluctantly.
Seren opened her eyes after several minutes, to make sure no one else was there, and groaned in anguish. The blood had finally soaked through part of the ropes; realizing this, she wriggled her wrists around to check is there was any room to get out. “At least blood is slippery,” she muttered sardonically, grimacing as the rope cut into her hands. When finally she got her left hand free, it hit something; she strained to see it, and grinned. “He actually left the scalpel here?” She knew there was a chance it was a trap, since she figured him to never be that careless. Deciding to take the chance though, she grabbed the knife, and started sawing at the rope tying down her right hand, and from there, the rest of her body.
As soon as she got free, she swung her legs, bleeding from cuts on her thighs, over the side of the table, and sighed. Her body felt drained, though she knew that she hadn’t lost that much blood, and, if it wouldn’t have slowed her down, she would have started crying. She forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand, and quickly checked through the drawers to see if there was anything clean to bandage up with. Coming up empty, except for her own clothes, she sighed and grabbed her skirt, and tried to sop up some of the blood, so it wouldn’t drip and leave a trail. While it was moderately successful, the open wounds worried her, since she had been on that nasty table that had had only god knew what else on it.
Grimacing in the fact the skirt didn’t cover up much, since they had ripped it when they had torn it off of her, she put it around her waist and fashioned a pseudo-bikini to cover herself while she escaped. After all, nothing drew attention quite like a bleeding, naked woman running through the halls. Pulling her old shirt back on, she quietly opened the door, and peeked outside carefully. Surprisingly, the hallways were empty and moderately dark, which would make sneaking a bit easier…if the smell of blood didn’t alert anyone, that was. She spotted a conveniently placed map on the wall, and crept out to check it.
An atomic clock above explained to her why the hallways were quiet, as it was rather late at night, and she made a mental note to try to keep track of time while she tried to get to one of the medical supply rooms, and then of Silver's room. ‘At least it’s not too far.’ She reasoned, when she heard footsteps coming down the opposite hallway, and ducked into one of the rooms, locking it behind her. Looking around for a hiding place, she looked over saw a rather large air vent on the wall. ‘I suppose beggars can’t be choosers…well, not right now, anyways. Thank G-d for stupid people making my life easier. I should make sure when I get back that headquarters that we aren’t so foolhardy.’ Unscrewing it with a flat edge she had found in the office she was in, she popped off the grate and looked in. Dust came out of the vent as she removed it, and she sneezed.
“Hey, what was that?” Somebody outside said, trying the door. Seren hurriedly placed the grate on the ground, and hid. The door opened, and a pair of guards walked in, flashlights illuminating the dark, sweeping the area. “There’s a grate on the floor? Was there maintenance scheduled today?” He asked, peeking into the vent with the torch.
“Don’t ask me. Are you sure you heard something? I think you’ve been drinking too much again, personally,” the other guard shrugged.
“Come on, you obviously need to stop getting drunk on duty.”
“One drink ain’t enough to get me drunk!” The first growled, standing up, and started for the door.
“Lightweight,” the other chuckled, opening the door for his coworker.
“I swear, I heard something. Sounded like someone sne…” the voice trailed off down the hall through the closed door. As the voices drifted, Seren poked her head out from underneath the desk, and sighed, glad she hadn’t hid in the air vent. She scrambled into it, crawling as slowly and silently as possible toward her goal…
~Crimson King
~~~~~~
And finally, part of my wanted prompt:
The brown haired man chuckled, sipping at his tea, “Besides that he has a longer list of felonies than I, at such a young age no less, and if his Schumacher alias has a brother named Joel, I want to kill him. Beyond that, no, not really.”
His wife groaned, flicking her husband’s ear in annoyance. He just smiled at her, which annoyed her even more. She was a beautiful woman, her eyes soft and gentle like the rest of her face, which was framed by black tendrils of hair, her body lithe and well-taken care of: not precisely thin, she had too much muscle for that, but with just enough curve on her medium frame to fill out her clothes nicely, and to not look like a chopstick. Had there not been so many scars on her body, and the slight wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth from laughing so much in her married life not been there, she might have been even more so to a normal passerby. Not that her husband cared what another man thought, so long as the man wasn’t trying to get fresh with her, for he had always believed her to be the most beautiful woman, in both soul and body, he had ever known. He thought her even more adorable when she was twerked off, which of course exacerbated it.
The red head frowned, “I checked around, and rumour has it he’s one of those in the neo-Rockets.”
Her black haired friend grimaced at the name, “So he’s been causing trouble, hasn’t he?”
“Yep.”
“I wonder if their leader thought things would end up like this when he dissolved the original Team Rocket.” The ebon haired woman said, throwing a glance at her husband.
The brown haired man’s eyes flashed, before he shrugged, “Who can predict things such as this?”
His wife smirked, “Indeed. Where has this Richard last been seen?”
The red head pulled up a satellite map of the area around Vermillion, now a ruined shadow of its former glory. “Our sources say he’s a frequent at The Smiling Wolf pub.”
A non-existent eyebrow was raised on the brunette man, “our normal haunt when we’re here?”
The red head shrugged, “Appears to be the case, sir.”
He nodded, “well, looks like that will be our next target. What’s the reward on this one?” She hit a button, and a large number popped up on the screen. He grinned, “That’s more than enough to keep us and this bucket of bolts running comfortably for a month or two. Might as well see if we can get some information before someone else beats us to it. Come on, honey.” He took his wife’s hand in his, and they walked off together to get ready.
The red head’s husband sighed, running a hand through his lavender hair as he put the other on his wife‘s shoulder, “Who names a pub ‘The Smiling Wolf’?”
“A smart ass who thought he was being clever,” his wife muttered, “I can’t believe we’re running into more of these idiots. What part of Giovanni saying, ‘It’s over, Team Rocket’s finished’ did they not get? Get on with your lives, people!”
“Well, we almost didn’t, until we got let on here,” He reminded her, kissing her forehead.
“That’s true…” She held his hand, “I hope they don’t get hurt out there.” It was an odd thought. Before they would have hoped that they wouldn’t get killed on account that the two of them would be out of a job…these past 3...no, 4 years had changed that. Now it was because of an odd sort of camaraderie that had developed among the four of them and the rest of their little team.
“Let’s just watch, and see what happens,” the ebony haired woman’s husband said, taking a sip of his own drink, when his cell phone went off. With a frustrated sigh, he answered it, “Hello? Oh, hey. Kind of busy, do you need something, kid?… Oh, well, let me see how some things shape up, and I’ll let you know. Thank you, though. Alright, say hi to the little one and Mist for me.” He flipped it closed. In response to his wife’s raised eyebrow, “Ash wanting to see if the team would like to get together for dinner next week.”
His wife smiled, “ah. He didn’t freak out when you called him ‘kid’?”
“Oh he did, I just ignored him.” He chuckled, when he spotted Richard starting to leave in the mirror, “Preda è in movimento.” Simply put, ‘The prey is on the move.’ She nodded, and they waited until he had left before quickly placing their payment on the table and stalking after him.
EDIT: Don't read that one, read the one I just posted above, please.
Let me know what you think, por favor! Thank you!
no subject
but in all seriousness, i'm very much interested in seeing what happens next~~
as for the crimson king excerpt... holy shit. that is some intense stuff going on there o_o
seren just can't catch a break, can she? i mean, i know she's an assassin and all and that profession probably makes you a few enemies, but still. woah.
finally, the wanted prompt. i was left a little confused by what was going on, but there's nothing better than watching giovanni multitask between family man & ruthless crime lord, so i was able to overlook it xD
i'm sure when i read the full story it'll all make a bit more sense :]
no subject
and the ghastly isn't...precisely telepathic...
Think of something in the Manga that allowed trainers and pokemon to communicate... without being "psychic"
Yeah, CK is pretty dark. She's about to meet a pokemon her husband has had some dealings with, too...
Haha, sorry, I intentionally had it in the middle of a flashback (the italics), and then the current part of that story...
Whoops, probably should have said that fic is in the future... >_>
And in case I accidentally didn't make it clear, TR's actually disbanded at that point. I thought I made that clear... x_x apparently not...
I'll post the rest of what i have written there in half-a-second. It's nowhere near finished, but it'll explain some things...
and please tell me it's obvious who the redhead and lavenderhead are...
*goes off to post the rest of the little she has written*
Glad you enjoyed though! ^^
no subject
And CRAP I forgot to put timeline wise stuff!
SR is in their 20s, CK is their 40s....
Also, repost is done.
http://giovannixseren.livejournal.com/10235.html