(Untitled)

[maneurism]

Who: Urameshi Yuusuke (maneurism) and Albert Wesker(iamwesker).
Where: Two kilometers from Kurama's den, along the very edge of the forest.
When: APRIL 16 @ 23:39 HOURS.
Summary: Yuusuke plays right into Wesker's hands and the two have the death match they've been meaning to, because the hell Wesker's giving him two months to bulk up.
Rating: PG-13 for language

Comments

[iamwesker]

The problem in dealing with Albert Wesker is that he had been in this situation many times. He had placed others in it more times than most could remember. When it came down to it, Wesker often had to only move his bishop to a square where the queen or a knight was being threatened, and the king would foolishly charge out to place himself in checkmate

[maneurism]

But then, Yuusuke was a bit smaller his typical intended target; he was neither Umbrella-trained, nor gun-toting, nor body-armor-wearing, nor particularly tall or barrel-shaped (which his own genetic make-up could attest to). What he was was listening.

Listening and bull-headed to the point of idiocy.

So instead of dodging, he inadvertently turned right into it, whipping around with a speed that would've surprised your typical human - which, of course, Albert Wesker was not - so that he saw the last half a second of stillness as it passed into something completely different

[iamwesker]

Slamming into Yuusuke, Wesker caught his balance. It was an old trick of his. Had the detective bothered to ask any advice, quite a few could have told him that Wesker's initial attack was usually to bodycheck a person or to drop down on top of them. Had Yuusuke gone more into the city, Wesker would have taken that route. Out here, he was left with little choice.

Anyone else Wesker would have gone in for the kill, slamming his foot into their head to split it apart or perhaps clapping his hands on either side of the victim's face to crush their skull. It was his association with Kurama and Hiei that earned this boy the chance to live at least a little longer.

A normal evil would have taken the moment to perhaps taunt their victim, toss off some appropriately menancing warning. Wesker did not. His hand reached down, meaning to snatch Yuusuke up and jerk the boy up above his head to give him a good shake as if he were a bad puppy. Whether or not he made contact depended on how conscious and quick Yuusuke still was.

[maneurism]

Yuusuke, who was still trying to become accustomed to living in a universe where winning was not always an option, got his hand up but not quick enough, and so ended up grappling at him, blunt, short nails digging in into the flesh of his wrist and leaving small, ineffectual marks behind. The detective's mouth was hanging open slightly - a noise rose from his throat beneath Wesker's fingers in a snarling, incoherent bubbling as he apparently strained to form words. His body was doing a terrordance without him, goosebumps rising all along him, prickling painfully across his back and the nape of his neck, where the words "I LOST" were still cut into his skin. He'd discovered the product of Hiei's handiwork in the shower earlier that day, and had planned on giving him an earful about it before all...this (whatever it was) had arisen.

But such things were pretty much the last thing on his mind right now. Everything outside of the narrow scope of his own immediate perception had flown from him, simply evaporated into thin air, and even as

[iamwesker]

When Wesker spoke, his voice was utterly calm and flat.

"I wouldn't suggest cutting into me. I carry an infection in my blood that would turn you into a monster."

He would heal quickly enough. Only one thing really hurt him enough to drive him back, and he doubted this boy had it. Ever since arriving in this place, he had fought with nearly all brands of demons, angels, monsters, magicians, and so on. Only one had managed to hurt him, and he had made sure that would never happen again.

His fingers tightened, a warning in itself. He doubted it would be heeded. Few had the presence of mind to think when faced with what they had called down on themselves. Instead, Wesker threw Yuusuke from him, back towards the already punished tree. He would probably have to apologize to Kurama later for that. This Kurama was not his Kurama, but he doubted the kitsune would appreciate any innocent vegetation being damaged

[maneurism]

Yuusuke hit bark and tumbled, somersaulting into an ironic sitting postion, chest heaving, collar darkening ominously beneath the collar of his shirt as the impressions of Wesker's hand and shoulder made their sore presences known. He stared at him, brown eyes practically glowing from beneath the bits of hair that had been shaken loose across the top of his face, making the darkest lines of it even darker. Unsteadily and with marked effort, Yuusuke heaved himself to his feet, bracing one arm behind him and clambering up there. He stumbled, chest almost giving, but caught himself with the expert wit of a drunk, on hand clamped against his upper thigh and the other (that which he had braced to get up) hovering waveringly behind him for balance

[iamwesker]

Wesker folded his arms as he waited for Yuusuke to get his grip. Arms folded, the Tyrant watched the detective steadily. His red eyes glowed in the darkness, pupils thinned down in anger. There was nothing more that he wanted than to throw the human around somemore, but one never knew where the breaking point of any species was.

"You should have stopped while you could, guarded your tongue."

Wesker started towards Yuusuke at a slow pace. His own temper needed reined in and controlled.

"Two months wouldn't have helped you much in the end. Power doesn't change the basic layout of a man. Most stop using their minds when they get such. In your case, there's precious little to spare."

If Yuusuke was going to do something to save himself, now might be the time.

[maneurism]

A wind wound its way between them, as nonchalant as if they had not been there (the affairs of men and boys alike were hardly any business or interest of Nature), and played its fingers across the tops of the trees so that they were obligated to strike up a murmuring chorus, a running, gallery-style commentary communicated primarily by touch. It was the fallen needles of the pseudo-pines and the thick, hardy tufts of forest grass that were the first, for example, to feel Yuusuke's feet flex as he routed his balance to the balls of them; it was a posture that was primed by years of fighting experience with nothing even half so frightening as Wesker, elastic and reflexive

[iamwesker]

There had been another Yuusuke here long ago, but Wesker had never met up with him. By the time he and Kurama's paths crossed, that Yuusuke had already left the world. Hiei followed a month or so afterwards. Whatever the detective was doing made no sense to him. One of them gathering their powers in for an attack left him uneasy. With what Kurama could do and what he had seen Hiei do on one occasion, it left what Yuusuke might be able to do a complete mystery

[maneurism]

His arms were long enough that he got his way; he reached Yuusuke before the detective reached him, and as the boy's dark head snapped back, it looked like he would lose out again to the pure, unadulterated force that Wesker's inhuman body provided him.

But, of course, the difference this time was that he was more than prepared. He had the advantages of seeing Wesker coming, for the most part, and of having something reserved special for the occasion.

Knocked back from his balance but not flying yet, Yuusuke twisted his heels into the ground, teeth rattling in their roots, and lunged out simultaneously with the arm he'd kept tucked against his body, Shotgun hollering itself into existence between them.