I was the shyest human ever invented, but I had a lion inside me that wouldn't shut up!--I. Bergman
WHO: Nine Foot Ball of Leonine Death (Trowa), Five Foot Ball of Sunshine (Quatre), Invisible Ball of Stealth (Duo), and Mr. Invincible Himself (Heero)
WHERE: One of the so-not-nicer areas of the main section of City.
WHEN: Late in the evening, Sunday, Sept. 13.
WARNINGS: No more than can be easily inferred
SUMMARY: Trowa's gone wild. Who you gonna call? (Ghostbusters Gundam pilots.)
FORMAT: Logalog.
Bright green eyes glinted in the dim light of the waning moon as the beast stalked down the deserted street, its large footpads pressing tracks deep into the stinking mud near the rusting, leaking dumpster as it passed by. The residents had enforced a curfew of sorts of their own volition a few days previously; only the criminals and the deeply stupid still roamed around once night fell. No-one was safe until the sun was hanging brightly in the sky again--one of the local drunks had already gone missing, his wretched, gurgling screams the only other sound to disturb the evening besides wild roars and snarls.
The memory pulled at the creature, and it recognized the familiar feeling of hunger that drove it to kill and devour; it raised its muzzle to the sky, its cinnamon-colored nose twitching in the attempt to pick scents out of the air. Dog to the left... too small for a meal. A human, above--afraid; it preferred them that way--but locked in the safety of the building. After the first time someone had shot at the creature during the attempt to crash in a door and attack those living inside the little white house, it had learned that prey was better caught out in the open.
It liked the chase, anyway.
The enormous leonine--yet man-like--beast shook its mane, drool spattering the nearby wall, and licked its lips. There would be a good hunt. It was strong, and this was its territory. All creatures belonged to it--to be protected, eaten or killed as it desired. This was the way.
Continuing to pad along, hunched over, the tall, powerfully-built monster flexed needle-like claws, listening to the call from within that told it to tear and rip and shred until none could stand in its way. Something buried far, far beneath that continued to scream, like it had done every day since the creature could remember existing--but that voice was growing fainter, and in any case, it couldn't understand the words.
There had been a few times the voice had interfered long enough to interrupt its plans, though. It recalled dim, fuzzy images of racing on all fours across rooftops and leaping over cars, leaving thick parallel gouges in the painted metal. Of cornering a pack of human cubs. Of hurling aside a trash can, bellowing into the dark. But it couldn't hurt them; the thing inside had yelled at it, had taken its feet and turned it around, marching it into an alley where it had spent the rest of the night draped in sleep across a creaking, unsteady fire escape. It had ruined things again when the human with hair like the stars had come, as well.
It bared thick yellow fangs the size of small knives in its fury. The boy-human had chased him, followed him into the hiding spot it had discovered. The prey had come to the predator, willingly, and it had been frustrated by the turnabout. Nature did not work that way. Nature was death, sharp and red and the hunted did not speak unfamiliar sounds of pride-life and assistance to kings, did not presume to meet their end on their own terms. The beast, left no other choice, had attempted to attack--but after the first defensive slash at the boy-human's arm had drawn blood, the voice gripped it, and it fled to make all of the confusion end.
A footstep caught its attention; it stopped dwelling on That Which Had Been Before and focused itself again on That Which Was Now. The former was of no importance to its current desire to hunt and trap and savage its kill, and in another week or so would become the most distant and vague of memories. No--its ear flicked, then moved to better pinpoint the source of the sound, and the creature forgot everything except the need to eat.
Human. Young. Unafraid... Familiar? Flashes of dark blue eyes and bright plumes of fire lit up its mind, but went ignored.
Slinking rapidly through the shadows, the beast moved as silently as any housecat after an ant, following the trail of the newest bit of prey with ease... and worse, rapidly decreasing the distance between them.
WHERE: One of the so-not-nicer areas of the main section of City.
WHEN: Late in the evening, Sunday, Sept. 13.
WARNINGS: No more than can be easily inferred
SUMMARY: Trowa's gone wild. Who you gonna call? (Ghostbusters Gundam pilots.)
FORMAT: Logalog.
Bright green eyes glinted in the dim light of the waning moon as the beast stalked down the deserted street, its large footpads pressing tracks deep into the stinking mud near the rusting, leaking dumpster as it passed by. The residents had enforced a curfew of sorts of their own volition a few days previously; only the criminals and the deeply stupid still roamed around once night fell. No-one was safe until the sun was hanging brightly in the sky again--one of the local drunks had already gone missing, his wretched, gurgling screams the only other sound to disturb the evening besides wild roars and snarls.
The memory pulled at the creature, and it recognized the familiar feeling of hunger that drove it to kill and devour; it raised its muzzle to the sky, its cinnamon-colored nose twitching in the attempt to pick scents out of the air. Dog to the left... too small for a meal. A human, above--afraid; it preferred them that way--but locked in the safety of the building. After the first time someone had shot at the creature during the attempt to crash in a door and attack those living inside the little white house, it had learned that prey was better caught out in the open.
It liked the chase, anyway.
The enormous leonine--yet man-like--beast shook its mane, drool spattering the nearby wall, and licked its lips. There would be a good hunt. It was strong, and this was its territory. All creatures belonged to it--to be protected, eaten or killed as it desired. This was the way.
Continuing to pad along, hunched over, the tall, powerfully-built monster flexed needle-like claws, listening to the call from within that told it to tear and rip and shred until none could stand in its way. Something buried far, far beneath that continued to scream, like it had done every day since the creature could remember existing--but that voice was growing fainter, and in any case, it couldn't understand the words.
There had been a few times the voice had interfered long enough to interrupt its plans, though. It recalled dim, fuzzy images of racing on all fours across rooftops and leaping over cars, leaving thick parallel gouges in the painted metal. Of cornering a pack of human cubs. Of hurling aside a trash can, bellowing into the dark. But it couldn't hurt them; the thing inside had yelled at it, had taken its feet and turned it around, marching it into an alley where it had spent the rest of the night draped in sleep across a creaking, unsteady fire escape. It had ruined things again when the human with hair like the stars had come, as well.
It bared thick yellow fangs the size of small knives in its fury. The boy-human had chased him, followed him into the hiding spot it had discovered. The prey had come to the predator, willingly, and it had been frustrated by the turnabout. Nature did not work that way. Nature was death, sharp and red and the hunted did not speak unfamiliar sounds of pride-life and assistance to kings, did not presume to meet their end on their own terms. The beast, left no other choice, had attempted to attack--but after the first defensive slash at the boy-human's arm had drawn blood, the voice gripped it, and it fled to make all of the confusion end.
A footstep caught its attention; it stopped dwelling on That Which Had Been Before and focused itself again on That Which Was Now. The former was of no importance to its current desire to hunt and trap and savage its kill, and in another week or so would become the most distant and vague of memories. No--its ear flicked, then moved to better pinpoint the source of the sound, and the creature forgot everything except the need to eat.
Human. Young. Unafraid... Familiar? Flashes of dark blue eyes and bright plumes of fire lit up its mind, but went ignored.
Slinking rapidly through the shadows, the beast moved as silently as any housecat after an ant, following the trail of the newest bit of prey with ease... and worse, rapidly decreasing the distance between them.