An Attempted Mugging in the Flats, Mid-Morning.
Somehow, Kiki had managed to survive the morning at the brothers' apartment, although Kadaj definitely knew something was wrong. Kiki had only just barely managed to cover her confusion. At least he had left before she had to shower, which she had done quickly, looking fixedly up at the shower spout as much as she could, and only rarely down at these odd parts of a body that wasn't hers. And then - this hair. It was so long; did he never tie it back? A short search had yielded a collection of scrunchies, and she used one - red, naturally - to keep her hair back.
Now she stood in the garage, looking again at the sleek black bike that crouched like a tense panther even when it wasn't running. She had experience with black cats, but not one as mechanical as this. It was a full ten minutes before she approached it, finally getting up the courage to swing a leg over and sit on it. It was wide, wider than she had expected and many times wider than the slim broomstick she was used to riding and -
Oh sheesh...
She blushed bright red for at least the fifth time that morning. How was it that guys dealt with having this whole extra... appendage?! It was one of the most uncomfortable - it seemed forever in the way -
"Bugger!" she muttered to herself, shifting on the seat again and leaning forward to brace her hands on the handlebars. Her hand was shaking as she went to start the engine, and her small knowledge of cars wasn't much help in this situation. Gritting her teeth, she started it, and the noise of the beast roaring to life petrified her. Was it supposed to sound like that? Is that what Kadaj's bike had sounded like? She shut it off again immediately and scrambled gracelessly off the machine, trembling.
"Not going to happen," she gasped. On the off-chance it might work, she grabbed an old broom from the corner, flung a leg over, and hopped into the air. She was unsurprised when she dropped like a rock, swiftly and reflexively catching herself on her feet again. Which meant she would have to walk to the nearest train stop. With a sigh, Kiki shook the nervousness out of her arms and hands and started walking. And walking. Had she made a wrong turn? She peered up at the street signs, hoping for something she would find familiar. Her delivery work at Jam Pony did not take her frequently into this portion of the city, and she didn't know it well at all - wasn't this the dangerous end? The next road over looked like a larger thoroughfare; she turned and cut down an alley.
"Hey."
Kiki had been about to turn towards the voice which had been close behind her, but found that the long blade held before her throat made that a poor choice of action. She froze.
"Pretty boys like you shouldn't walk in this section of town alone," said the gravelly voice. "You might get robbed."
Her first reaction was anger, followed swiftly by fear. If she had her powers, her spells, then this bastard behind her would probably spend the rest of his life with the mental state of a sea cucumber. The surge of anger she felt would have given her spells power, drawing on her emotions and adrenaline to smash him away from her. But she didn't have that. She had nothing except this body that she didn't know and desperation.
"Come on," the knife trembled below her chin, and Kiki felt the surge of fury again. Powers or not, she wasn't going to take this lying down - Yazoo would be disappointed. She felt some sort of instinct kick in; her hand shot up, grabbing the wrist that held the knife, twisting the arm down and away with the rewarding sound of a crunch of bone and a howl of pain. Spinning outward from the encircling arm, Kiki didn't let go of the arm but used it as leverage, yanking the mugger towards her to meet the heavy impact of her booted foot as she swung it up and kicked him in the chest, cracking ribs and dislocating the shoulder. The mugger fell backwards, but Kiki wouldn't let him off so easily, and jerked him forward again, swinging in with her fist into his face. She dropped the limp body in his own blood in the alley and Kiki, the fighting rage gone and leaving her feeling sick and cold and empty, took a few shaken steps back.
"Oh my god," she murmured, staring at her hands. "What have I done? How can I have done that?"
It had been quick, efficient, ruthless, the moves as unknown to her as the astonishing strength in her limbs. It had been dispassionate and matter-of-fact, instinct and reflex and a primal, feral urge of survival, self-sufficiency and kill-or-be-killed. It was something Kiki had never touched before, even when she had faced the balrog. Feeling light-headed and ill, she pressed her hands to her face and hurried up the alley, more anxious than ever to get to the Tea Leaf and Aziraphale.
[ooc: Mugging not for interaction, but post-mugging is. Like for Justin/Duce? :D]
Now she stood in the garage, looking again at the sleek black bike that crouched like a tense panther even when it wasn't running. She had experience with black cats, but not one as mechanical as this. It was a full ten minutes before she approached it, finally getting up the courage to swing a leg over and sit on it. It was wide, wider than she had expected and many times wider than the slim broomstick she was used to riding and -
Oh sheesh...
She blushed bright red for at least the fifth time that morning. How was it that guys dealt with having this whole extra... appendage?! It was one of the most uncomfortable - it seemed forever in the way -
"Bugger!" she muttered to herself, shifting on the seat again and leaning forward to brace her hands on the handlebars. Her hand was shaking as she went to start the engine, and her small knowledge of cars wasn't much help in this situation. Gritting her teeth, she started it, and the noise of the beast roaring to life petrified her. Was it supposed to sound like that? Is that what Kadaj's bike had sounded like? She shut it off again immediately and scrambled gracelessly off the machine, trembling.
"Not going to happen," she gasped. On the off-chance it might work, she grabbed an old broom from the corner, flung a leg over, and hopped into the air. She was unsurprised when she dropped like a rock, swiftly and reflexively catching herself on her feet again. Which meant she would have to walk to the nearest train stop. With a sigh, Kiki shook the nervousness out of her arms and hands and started walking. And walking. Had she made a wrong turn? She peered up at the street signs, hoping for something she would find familiar. Her delivery work at Jam Pony did not take her frequently into this portion of the city, and she didn't know it well at all - wasn't this the dangerous end? The next road over looked like a larger thoroughfare; she turned and cut down an alley.
"Hey."
Kiki had been about to turn towards the voice which had been close behind her, but found that the long blade held before her throat made that a poor choice of action. She froze.
"Pretty boys like you shouldn't walk in this section of town alone," said the gravelly voice. "You might get robbed."
Her first reaction was anger, followed swiftly by fear. If she had her powers, her spells, then this bastard behind her would probably spend the rest of his life with the mental state of a sea cucumber. The surge of anger she felt would have given her spells power, drawing on her emotions and adrenaline to smash him away from her. But she didn't have that. She had nothing except this body that she didn't know and desperation.
"Come on," the knife trembled below her chin, and Kiki felt the surge of fury again. Powers or not, she wasn't going to take this lying down - Yazoo would be disappointed. She felt some sort of instinct kick in; her hand shot up, grabbing the wrist that held the knife, twisting the arm down and away with the rewarding sound of a crunch of bone and a howl of pain. Spinning outward from the encircling arm, Kiki didn't let go of the arm but used it as leverage, yanking the mugger towards her to meet the heavy impact of her booted foot as she swung it up and kicked him in the chest, cracking ribs and dislocating the shoulder. The mugger fell backwards, but Kiki wouldn't let him off so easily, and jerked him forward again, swinging in with her fist into his face. She dropped the limp body in his own blood in the alley and Kiki, the fighting rage gone and leaving her feeling sick and cold and empty, took a few shaken steps back.
"Oh my god," she murmured, staring at her hands. "What have I done? How can I have done that?"
It had been quick, efficient, ruthless, the moves as unknown to her as the astonishing strength in her limbs. It had been dispassionate and matter-of-fact, instinct and reflex and a primal, feral urge of survival, self-sufficiency and kill-or-be-killed. It was something Kiki had never touched before, even when she had faced the balrog. Feeling light-headed and ill, she pressed her hands to her face and hurried up the alley, more anxious than ever to get to the Tea Leaf and Aziraphale.
[ooc: Mugging not for interaction, but post-mugging is. Like for Justin/Duce? :D]