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Tick, tock, tick, tock.
Clock’s running down. Walls closing in. Or, in this case, literally crumbling around them.
Azula watched as Altanis collapsed to the ground in a heap before her. Her gaze carried no glee, or even satisfaction. No, at this point, the dagger she drove through the demon’s eye simply fulfilled a contract upon which the fire princess always intended to collect. The bloodied piece of sandstone she held in her good hand stunk of horse flesh, but mingled with the sweet scent of freedom, it almost smelled good. Azula lifted the brick to her face and sucked in a deep breath through the nostrils of her still-healing nose.
Without a second thought, she bashed herself with it. Sandstone collided with skin as once again the pointed implement snapped in several spots, her own blood oozing out of it and mixing with the dried Nico Cinder blood that remained on her lips and chin. She flashed bloodied teeth to no one in particular, grinning widely — now, there was the glee.
A quiet chuckle escaped her lips as she brushed some of her raven-colored hair out of her face. Then a giggle. Then, perhaps, a hearty chortle?
She laughed. She smiled. She enjoyed herself.
Revenge was sweet.
Her mangled nose barely whiffed the crackling smell of Elise’s charred corpse sinking into the sandstone nearby. The bloodsucker lay, ashen and lifeless, amongst the stones she’d crashed into just yards away; as Azula turned her gaze that direction, the princess half-expected her vampiric rival to stalk back to the world of the living to exact revenge. But no such flicker of movement came from the smoking pile of blood and guts. Elise existed now just as another reminder of Azula’s supremacy over this cabal of pathetic insects.
She wished she’d gotten to enjoy it more. The look in Elise’s eyes — that’d been priceless, yes. But she’d have given almost anything to have the opportunity to revel in it just a bit more. Perhaps, she thought to herself, she would, in time; she’d come to understand that death wasn’t always as permanent as it seemed here in the Crossroads, and just maybe she’d get to see to it that the bloodsucker suffered just ever so slightly more. Was that asking for too much?
Just past Elise, she caught sight of someone else she hoped she’d see in a next life.
Stheno.
Nearby, the other competitors busied themselves with their petty squabbles. She’d deal with them soon. She’d keep her promise to the gorgon, that no one would leave unless it was the two of them. In this moment, though, they mattered little. In this moment, she only had eyes for the two gargantuan figures hulking over her right-hand-woman’s lifeless form.
The Uber Jasons — one and two to Azula, whether that was the designation they’d been given or not — turned their metallic, masked faces toward their victim’s commander. The princess started to stalk towards them, slowly and calmly, clambering up onto a pile of sandstone that stood between her and the mechanized murderers. For a few moments, the Jasons stared at Azula, watching and waiting for their next victim to make the first, impulsive move.
Stheno’s death had rid her of any such emotional baggage. She felt like stone, felt fused with the rock remains of the roof beneath her boots, as her eyes fell on the corpse of her… her friend at the Jasons’ feet.
“I’m not sure if you can understand me,” she muttered simply, quietly, “…but you’ve made a big mistake.”
They must’ve comprehended something, because not a second passed before the princess was in the air, leaping over a slice from Jason One’s machete. She propelled herself higher with a burst of azure flames from each palm.
Hanging in the air above the Jasons’ head, she caught a glimpse of a large chunk of the battlefield. Lying almost in a perfect line, separated by mere meters: Stheno, Elise, Altanis. She rectified her earlier sentiment.
Revenge was bittersweet.
Boots hit the ground first. Azula’s knee touched down just beside Stheno’s head, and she heard the swoosh of Jason Two’s machete swinging to split her head in twain like it had Nico’s. The fingers on her good hand wrapped around the hilt of Stheno’s own blade, and the fire princess whipped around, lifting Ladon to meet Jason Two’s assault with a resounding clang.
The force from the hulking monstrosity’s attack sent Azula tumbling backwards onto her former lieutenant’s body. She crashed into Stheno’s abdomen, lifting her bad hand to the hilt to add whatever force she could muster in her struggle against Uber Jason’s overwhelming force. He pushed onward, trying with all his might to break through Ladon and crush Zuzu for good, but the jagged machete held the monster at bay, just as its former owner thwarted many a threat to Azula’s life.
Once again, the teenager felt a pang of guilt that she hadn’t been able to return the favor.
Jason Two pressed down, hard, and Azula felt her strength begin to falter. She buckled, losing grip on Ladon with her right hand, and struggled to muster the strength to keep the murderer’s weapon at bay.
Tick, tock, tick, tock. Clock’s running down.
Chh chh chh… ahh ahh ahh.
Azula’s right hand fumbled with Stheno’s blindfold as she searched for her final, last ditch option. She yanked the cloth down and indiscriminately ripped.
“Sorry, friend,” she grunted as she tore one of Stheno’s eyes out of its sockets. She swung it upwards and aimed it at Jason Two’s face, slamming a foot into the bottom of his mask and knocking it upwards for good measure. She yelped in pain, the impact of the metal stinging her foot, as the newly-revealed gaze of Jason Two made eye contact with Stheno’s disconnected eye and froze in place, petrified.
Azula gritted her teeth and growled. “Die,” she commanded, shirking Two’s machete out of the way and driving Ladon directly into his exposed face.
Petrified already, his form suddenly went slack, and Azula barrel-rolled out of the way to avoid him as he collapsed onto Stheno’s broken corpse.
The princess reached down and jerked Ladon out of the murdered murderer’s face and turned to stare down Jason One.
Chh chh chh, ahh —
“Shut the fuck up!” Azula shouted to no one and nothing in particular, lifting the jagged machete high and swinging it through the air as she sprinted toward the first of her only friend’s killers. He lifted his own machete in defense, making quick work of Zula’s attack as she swung and made no headway. He parried her off to his right side, reaching down with his free hand and wrapping his fingers around her throat.
He lifted the princess high into the air and squeezed, blocking any air from entering the girl’s lungs as she swung Ladon madly. Even Stheno’s huge weapon couldn’t breach the breadth of this Jason’s arm, just barely missing the cyborg’s chest plate as Azula flailed wildly in his grip.
Uber Jason watched with some interest as she struggled, fascinated to see no fear cross her face — just pure, unbridled fury.
Deep in the recesses of the Syntech facility, some — perhaps even Karl Jak himself, or some of his copies — whispered about the oncoming demise of arguably one of their most unhinged candidates ever. She squirmed and shouted, raging as loud as she could with her windpipe blocked, as crazy now as she’d ever been, probably more so. Most of the purple-suited employees agreed this would be a proper end for her journey. Good TV, atleast.
There was no way for Azula to know this, but she felt in her bones that — yet again — someone, somewhere, was underestimating her, one more fucking time.
Didn’t they know better by now?
She released her grip on Ladon. It fell to the sandstone floor with a loud bang, and she slid the knife Karl UnJak had given her out of her belt, driving it through Jason One’s hand with extreme force…
…and, subsequently, directly into her own neck.
She pulled it out quickly as Jason recoiled and released her. She fell and dropped to her knees, swiftly lifting her bad hand up and pressing it to the wound. Flames erupted from her hand and the hole in her neck cauterized, barely losing enough drops of blood to raise Elise’s interest.
Livid, she stared down a weakened Jason One and grabbed Stheno’s weapon once again, taking stock of what lay behind him.
The dragon and the swordsman, dancing their incessant dance despite the chaos. The unmade rabblerouser, carousing from one fight to another and never staying long enough to feel the heat. The bamboozling idiot, or… several of him. Roy Mustang — the fool pretender. Strazio — who thought he could best her.
They would all fall to her wrath.
But first… this motherfucker.
Clock’s running down. Walls closing in. Or, in this case, literally crumbling around them.
Azula watched as Altanis collapsed to the ground in a heap before her. Her gaze carried no glee, or even satisfaction. No, at this point, the dagger she drove through the demon’s eye simply fulfilled a contract upon which the fire princess always intended to collect. The bloodied piece of sandstone she held in her good hand stunk of horse flesh, but mingled with the sweet scent of freedom, it almost smelled good. Azula lifted the brick to her face and sucked in a deep breath through the nostrils of her still-healing nose.
Without a second thought, she bashed herself with it. Sandstone collided with skin as once again the pointed implement snapped in several spots, her own blood oozing out of it and mixing with the dried Nico Cinder blood that remained on her lips and chin. She flashed bloodied teeth to no one in particular, grinning widely — now, there was the glee.
A quiet chuckle escaped her lips as she brushed some of her raven-colored hair out of her face. Then a giggle. Then, perhaps, a hearty chortle?
She laughed. She smiled. She enjoyed herself.
Revenge was sweet.
Her mangled nose barely whiffed the crackling smell of Elise’s charred corpse sinking into the sandstone nearby. The bloodsucker lay, ashen and lifeless, amongst the stones she’d crashed into just yards away; as Azula turned her gaze that direction, the princess half-expected her vampiric rival to stalk back to the world of the living to exact revenge. But no such flicker of movement came from the smoking pile of blood and guts. Elise existed now just as another reminder of Azula’s supremacy over this cabal of pathetic insects.
She wished she’d gotten to enjoy it more. The look in Elise’s eyes — that’d been priceless, yes. But she’d have given almost anything to have the opportunity to revel in it just a bit more. Perhaps, she thought to herself, she would, in time; she’d come to understand that death wasn’t always as permanent as it seemed here in the Crossroads, and just maybe she’d get to see to it that the bloodsucker suffered just ever so slightly more. Was that asking for too much?
Just past Elise, she caught sight of someone else she hoped she’d see in a next life.
Stheno.
Nearby, the other competitors busied themselves with their petty squabbles. She’d deal with them soon. She’d keep her promise to the gorgon, that no one would leave unless it was the two of them. In this moment, though, they mattered little. In this moment, she only had eyes for the two gargantuan figures hulking over her right-hand-woman’s lifeless form.
The Uber Jasons — one and two to Azula, whether that was the designation they’d been given or not — turned their metallic, masked faces toward their victim’s commander. The princess started to stalk towards them, slowly and calmly, clambering up onto a pile of sandstone that stood between her and the mechanized murderers. For a few moments, the Jasons stared at Azula, watching and waiting for their next victim to make the first, impulsive move.
Stheno’s death had rid her of any such emotional baggage. She felt like stone, felt fused with the rock remains of the roof beneath her boots, as her eyes fell on the corpse of her… her friend at the Jasons’ feet.
“I’m not sure if you can understand me,” she muttered simply, quietly, “…but you’ve made a big mistake.”
They must’ve comprehended something, because not a second passed before the princess was in the air, leaping over a slice from Jason One’s machete. She propelled herself higher with a burst of azure flames from each palm.
Hanging in the air above the Jasons’ head, she caught a glimpse of a large chunk of the battlefield. Lying almost in a perfect line, separated by mere meters: Stheno, Elise, Altanis. She rectified her earlier sentiment.
Revenge was bittersweet.
Boots hit the ground first. Azula’s knee touched down just beside Stheno’s head, and she heard the swoosh of Jason Two’s machete swinging to split her head in twain like it had Nico’s. The fingers on her good hand wrapped around the hilt of Stheno’s own blade, and the fire princess whipped around, lifting Ladon to meet Jason Two’s assault with a resounding clang.
The force from the hulking monstrosity’s attack sent Azula tumbling backwards onto her former lieutenant’s body. She crashed into Stheno’s abdomen, lifting her bad hand to the hilt to add whatever force she could muster in her struggle against Uber Jason’s overwhelming force. He pushed onward, trying with all his might to break through Ladon and crush Zuzu for good, but the jagged machete held the monster at bay, just as its former owner thwarted many a threat to Azula’s life.
Once again, the teenager felt a pang of guilt that she hadn’t been able to return the favor.
Jason Two pressed down, hard, and Azula felt her strength begin to falter. She buckled, losing grip on Ladon with her right hand, and struggled to muster the strength to keep the murderer’s weapon at bay.
Tick, tock, tick, tock. Clock’s running down.
Chh chh chh… ahh ahh ahh.
Azula’s right hand fumbled with Stheno’s blindfold as she searched for her final, last ditch option. She yanked the cloth down and indiscriminately ripped.
“Sorry, friend,” she grunted as she tore one of Stheno’s eyes out of its sockets. She swung it upwards and aimed it at Jason Two’s face, slamming a foot into the bottom of his mask and knocking it upwards for good measure. She yelped in pain, the impact of the metal stinging her foot, as the newly-revealed gaze of Jason Two made eye contact with Stheno’s disconnected eye and froze in place, petrified.
Azula gritted her teeth and growled. “Die,” she commanded, shirking Two’s machete out of the way and driving Ladon directly into his exposed face.
Petrified already, his form suddenly went slack, and Azula barrel-rolled out of the way to avoid him as he collapsed onto Stheno’s broken corpse.
The princess reached down and jerked Ladon out of the murdered murderer’s face and turned to stare down Jason One.
Chh chh chh, ahh —
“Shut the fuck up!” Azula shouted to no one and nothing in particular, lifting the jagged machete high and swinging it through the air as she sprinted toward the first of her only friend’s killers. He lifted his own machete in defense, making quick work of Zula’s attack as she swung and made no headway. He parried her off to his right side, reaching down with his free hand and wrapping his fingers around her throat.
He lifted the princess high into the air and squeezed, blocking any air from entering the girl’s lungs as she swung Ladon madly. Even Stheno’s huge weapon couldn’t breach the breadth of this Jason’s arm, just barely missing the cyborg’s chest plate as Azula flailed wildly in his grip.
Uber Jason watched with some interest as she struggled, fascinated to see no fear cross her face — just pure, unbridled fury.
Deep in the recesses of the Syntech facility, some — perhaps even Karl Jak himself, or some of his copies — whispered about the oncoming demise of arguably one of their most unhinged candidates ever. She squirmed and shouted, raging as loud as she could with her windpipe blocked, as crazy now as she’d ever been, probably more so. Most of the purple-suited employees agreed this would be a proper end for her journey. Good TV, atleast.
There was no way for Azula to know this, but she felt in her bones that — yet again — someone, somewhere, was underestimating her, one more fucking time.
Didn’t they know better by now?
She released her grip on Ladon. It fell to the sandstone floor with a loud bang, and she slid the knife Karl UnJak had given her out of her belt, driving it through Jason One’s hand with extreme force…
…and, subsequently, directly into her own neck.
She pulled it out quickly as Jason recoiled and released her. She fell and dropped to her knees, swiftly lifting her bad hand up and pressing it to the wound. Flames erupted from her hand and the hole in her neck cauterized, barely losing enough drops of blood to raise Elise’s interest.
Livid, she stared down a weakened Jason One and grabbed Stheno’s weapon once again, taking stock of what lay behind him.
The dragon and the swordsman, dancing their incessant dance despite the chaos. The unmade rabblerouser, carousing from one fight to another and never staying long enough to feel the heat. The bamboozling idiot, or… several of him. Roy Mustang — the fool pretender. Strazio — who thought he could best her.
They would all fall to her wrath.
But first… this motherfucker.
1494 words according to GDocs.