{Video - 28}
[Blur of motion and steel is what the Forge kicks in on. Mist and ruins and sky, a body hitting the ground just feet away from the camera.
She lands on her back, her hair matted with blood and dirt. It was cherry-blossom pink once. Scarlet rivulets stream from her nose and mouth which works to make a sound.
All that emerges are sharp shallow breaths, labored, uneven and loud near the mic. Her eyes though, her eyes are narrowed and focused and glaring up. She's not one to just lie down and take it. Never was. So she makes to get back up, pushes against the ground even though there is a small hole in her chest, even though blood loss should keep her prone.
The booted foot that plants itself on her sternum forces her back down; blood wells up from beneath it. Sakura's mouth opens, gasps and then she coughs on blood as more of it bubbles up and down her cheek and her ribs go crunch. Then again--crunch--and her eyes narrow, defiant. One hand grasps just above the ankle and the other, open and glowing with chakra, raises, not to knit bones this time but to shatter them--
As the point of a sword slams into her throat and buries itself deep. Then deeper, the thin steel inching in and in.
Until the glow in her hand dies. Until it drops to the ground. Until her breath gutters out into silence.
The weight of it lingers, even around the wet sound of the blade sliding out of her neck.
More motion then. A flash of black and the feed ends.]
[OOC: Sakura won't be responding to any replies. Uh, obviously >_>]
She lands on her back, her hair matted with blood and dirt. It was cherry-blossom pink once. Scarlet rivulets stream from her nose and mouth which works to make a sound.
All that emerges are sharp shallow breaths, labored, uneven and loud near the mic. Her eyes though, her eyes are narrowed and focused and glaring up. She's not one to just lie down and take it. Never was. So she makes to get back up, pushes against the ground even though there is a small hole in her chest, even though blood loss should keep her prone.
The booted foot that plants itself on her sternum forces her back down; blood wells up from beneath it. Sakura's mouth opens, gasps and then she coughs on blood as more of it bubbles up and down her cheek and her ribs go crunch. Then again--crunch--and her eyes narrow, defiant. One hand grasps just above the ankle and the other, open and glowing with chakra, raises, not to knit bones this time but to shatter them--
As the point of a sword slams into her throat and buries itself deep. Then deeper, the thin steel inching in and in.
Until the glow in her hand dies. Until it drops to the ground. Until her breath gutters out into silence.
The weight of it lingers, even around the wet sound of the blade sliding out of her neck.
More motion then. A flash of black and the feed ends.]
[OOC: Sakura won't be responding to any replies. Uh, obviously >_>]