tag team // ems
Sept 27, 2015 18:40:04 GMT -5
Post by semper on Sept 27, 2015 18:40:04 GMT -5
sewanee clark
I ain’t too sure what I’ve gone to town for. Maybe for some nails; I know the fence has been needin’ fixin’ for quite some time. Fortunately the horses an’ cows haven’t escaped yet but I’m pressin’ our luck. Sooner or later they’re gonna figure out that they can get out. Other things have had my priority, but in the little down time I have, I assume now’s the best time.
Thing is, though, I don’t know where the hardware shop is. Usually I’d make whatever I needed but I don’t got any materials for the nails. With my hands in my pockets, I meander down the street, lookin’ through windows, when an agonizingly familiar voice catches my attention.
”The fuckin’ street rat. Thought we done squashed you back then at the post. Broke into any fancy houses recently? Need anythin’ for your sister?”
Bitter anger swells up as I turn around to face a Peacekeeper that I wish woulda died with the orange leaves on trees. That same menacin’ glare, that same sneerin’ smirk, that same superior aura while he’s lookin’ down his nose at me. Lookin’ for just ‘bout any excuse to exercise his authority in a bad manner.
”Aha! I see you still got the whip marks. Mighty fine one you got on yer face there -- want some more?”
I’m seethin’. Instantaneously I’m blisterin’ mad; just his face makes me wanna spit fire an’ gouge his eyes out. He’s noticed this, too, ‘cause he’s reachin’ toward his belt where a coiled whip is situated on his hip, just like he’s beggin’ for me to react.
I wanna hit him. I wanna deck him. He ain’t no bigger than me; I can easily take him. Though, I’ve got things good now: I work for Mace, I got some money comin’ in, I can take care of my sister properly. I don’t gotta steal no more. As much as I miss the thrill of runnin’ under the cover of night with bagged goods, I’m free from that.
Do I really need to let this guy get under my skin? If I walk away, I’ll be alright. I can go home an’ throw rocks at trees ‘til I feel better. I can keep providin’ for my sister. If I stay, I might get picked on by this shitty excuse for a Peacekeeper.
I’m halfway with turnin’ around when a loud crack splits the air an’ a fire bites my back. My eyes go wide when pain’s rippin’ through my skin like cat claws; back archin’, fingers curlin’, an’ I’m howlin’ a long string of words that needn’t be heard by those who were around me.
In a flash I’m whirlin’ with teeth bare an’ a hellfire anger. He’s got a shit-eatin’ grin on his face that I’m about to wipe off forcibly. I know he knows it’s comin’: he raises the whip again but I’m comin’ at him full force. My right arm’s liftin’ an’ I see his eyes go that way -- my left fist comes up an’ boxes his jaw with a sound akin to thick branches breakin’. His head snaps up an’ his body follows. I take a step, lift my foot, an’ drill it hard against his belly to throw him back, roarin’.
“Don’t you come at me again!”