(Untitled)

[pacifisted]

WHO: Wufei, Trowa
WHERE: Hell Towers #10-04
WHEN: Tuesday, Jan. 4/2011
WARNINGS: Violence, probable yelling, god only knows.
SUMMARY: See 05. See 05 confront monster. See 05 discover powers. Go, 05, go!
FORMAT: If it feels good, do it~

Comments

[xun_long]

Quatre's house was the kind of building that garnered excellent reviews in architectural magazines, was much coveted in home and garden circles and elicited enthusiastic proclamations about it's 'open floorplan' and 'bright, airy atmosphere'. Whatever he'd paid for it had likely been worth the money, at least so far as colloquial sources could be concerned and of course Wufei hated it.

It had a wall, nearly an entire wall made from little else but glass.To describe Wufei's dislike of this feature aloud would more than strain his relationship with the man who was ostensibly putting him up. And so it fell to Trowa's charity, when 05 could no longer stand the inescapable sensation of some unseen gunman, lining up a shot between his shoulder blades. Even then he felt, after seeing the world again through that narrow and bloody insurgent's filter, that the apartment was to small and too crowded and- just

[pacifisted]

The problem with trying to be alone in an apartment complex was that a person was, by the very nature of his or her living arrangements, constantly surrounded. Sometimes a little more blatantly than usual--at the instant that Wufei had opened the door of 10-04, Trowa had come back from a runaround and was about to do the same, intending to catch a shower and some more sleep before the evening picked up the way it always did in the City.

Of course, it didn't look that way to the casual observer.

Instead, Wufei found himself met with a huge, impossible monster staring down at him from a good four feet up.

...Oops.

[xun_long]

As a gundam pilot, a martial artist and a person, Wufei's reactions to danger, surprise and panic were well-honed and practiced to the point that they represented instinct and reflex more than conscious decision. If looking up and up- and up into fangs that were as long as a decent knife had any effect at all, it was that; to reach down into the instinctive core of him and shake.

His response was appropriately instinctive, hands moving as if of their own accord, to strike at the threat, and red-orange fire bloomed in response. The heat and presence only served to fuel the shock further, turning what had been a panicked spark into a brief but intense gout of flame.

[pacifisted]

The realization of what was about to happen hit him a moment too late, the beast's big, green eyes widening as he saw what had previously appeared to be nothing more than empty space abruptly igniting itself. With a (loud) thick, rolling gurgle of surprise and a resounding thump, Trowa dropped to the floor in a desperate attempt to avoid finding himself with 'barbecued cat' as his newest form.

He smelled the burning fur and hair before he even understood that he'd caught fire, roaring, automatically battering at his borrowed mane with both hands and rolling on the floor to try and quickly smother the flame before it could flare up and do real damage to him--or worse, catch to any other part of the building.