drownedinlight (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
drownedinlight) wrote2011-04-17 10:30 pm
drownedinlight) wrote2011-04-17 10:30 pm
Entry tags:
Atalanta: Superhero part 5
The Asian woman held a sword in one hand, pointed down towards the floor, and in the other a gun pointed directly at Atalanta.
“You have to know that neither of those is going to hurt me,” Atalanta said, clutching the map and the files more tightly to her chest.
“Actually I know nothing of the kind,” Riko replied. “I’m not so sure you do either. Perhaps the bullet will bounce off of your skin, perhaps not. And perhaps the blade will no pierce that olive flesh of yours, but one cannot know until we try.” Riko rushed toward her, firing off the gun, and reaching out to slice down with the sword as well. Atalanta felt the bullet imbed in her Kevlar suit, but did not touch her skin, and raised an arm up to block the sword, the metal striking against her arm, like another piece of steal. Riko looked at the bloodless indent in Atalanta’s arm, and screamed, drawing back to strike again, but Atlanta again blocked with her arm, this time pushing Riko away, and grabbed the woman’s sword arm.
“Now you know,” she said, before she pushed the woman back to hard, Riko crashed into the wall. Atalanta took that moment to run, out the office door and down the nearest corridor. She ran twisting her way into the compound, remembering just how many turns she took from Kenji’s office before she pressed herself against a wall once more, and opened up the map.
Kenji’s office was not clearly labeled, but she thought she might be able to tell based on the plan details where an exit bay was. Memorizing what she thought to be the route out, Atalanta folded up the few papers the files contained, and stuffed them into her shirt, feeling the paper crinkle against her skin as she began to run again. She chanted her turns over and over again, and soon enough, she found the exit bay at the end of the last corridor, but it was crawling with guards.
“There she is!” one shouted.
“Shit!” Atalanta cursed as twenty or more guards began to advance on her. She ran as far as she could into the bay, when she met with their bullets. Atalanta crossed her arms in front of her face and kept running until she met the guards themselves, and aimed for their faces, seeking to knock them back, or disorient them enough to grab a truck and get the hell out of the assassin base. But it seemed as many as she beat down the more that kept coming, and the more she had to fight them to get free. But her strength was well played, and soon they all lay knocked out around her.
Breathing hard, she ran for a truck, but did not make it more than twenty paces before she heard the familiar click of a cocking gun.
“You will not make it another ten paces, no matter how fast you are.” Atalanta recognized Kenji’s voice.
“Obviously, you didn’t get the memo,” Atalanta retorted. “Your partner already tried that, and it didn’t work.”
“If Riko had tried to kill you, you would be dead,” Kenji scoffed. Atalanta turned, and ran towards him, Kenji firing the gun once she did. She reached out her hand and caught the bullet once it ricocheted into her palm, grabbing Kenji by the collar with her other hand, holding him up into the air.
“Haven’t you heard?” she asked. “I’m the superwoman.” Kenji’s eyes grew wide as she dropped him and punched him right across the jaw. The man staggered backwards, and when he could stand, Atalanta had already reached one of their trucks and was driving off into the night. He stood, resolving to take another and go after her, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“She is already lost,” Riko said. “Let her go.”
“He will not be pleased that we managed to lose her,” he said. Riko smiled at him, and before Kenji could see, she punched him in the gut, and he doubled over coughing.
“Yes, he will not be much pleased with you at all, Kenji, but as for me, I am no longer needed here.” She raised a knee up, before she brought it into his face, knocking him out. “I told you she was more than she seemed, but you just wouldn’t listen, darling.”
Somewhere a few miles away from the compound and into the city, Atalanta ditched the truck. She was exhausted, and her legs ached, but she knew they would try and track her through it, so she got out and began to jog through the dark streets, testing her endurance. The moon was going down over one horizon, and the only things which lit the sky were the stars, and even many of them did not seem so bright. So she had been gone for almost the whole night, at the very least. At the very most…it had not sounded like they had had her for more than a day, but she would discount nothing until she was home.
Almost an hour later, she dragged herself up the fire escape of her apartment and managed to climb in the window, she body burning with protest. The first thing she did was strip off her shirt and drop the papers onto the table. Next came her pants as she was walking into her room, and then when she could sit at her desk, she unlaced the boots and pulled her feet free. She threw on a tee shirt and a pair of shorts over her naked body, before she went to the bathroom.
There in the florescent light of the mirror, she looked strange in a tee shirt and shorts with a mask on, and even though the mask had begun to itch a little, she stood for a moment and took herself in, admiring the strange sight.
“Charlotte?” Natalie asked from the dark doorway of her room. “Are you just getting in? Did something happen?”
“Something happened,” Charlotte agreed, applying the solute around the edges of her mask. Slowly, she managed to get more and more of the clear gel on, around and under the mask; it peeled away from her face, taking no skin with it.
“You hurt?” Natalie asked.
“No, but I’m exhausted. Go back to bed, Nat, we’ll talk more in the morning.” Natalie did not protest, and Charlotte heard the rustle of sheets as Natalie climbed into bed, just as she pulled the last bit of mask off. The skin around her eyes looked a little red, and blotchy, much like it did every night she put on her mask and went out to fight crime. But the aches and the pains and the exhaustion was finally hitting her, and she could no longer admire the strangeness of how she looked. She flicked of the light switch, and shuffled across the hall to her room, where she collapsed into bed.
The next morning, she regretted it.
Charlotte felt so stiff; she had no idea about how to even begin moving to stretch her out of it.
“I need to start doing parkour again,” she muttered, her body creaking and popping as she sat up in the bed. Charlotte let her top half fall slowly over her legs, trying to stretch as many muscles as she could, doing so. Next time, she swore to herself, next time she would stretch out, at least a little, before she even thought about falling asleep. Next time she would be better conditioned to. She had to be, because she really did not want to do this again.
When she could grab her feet with only mild discomfort, Charlotte moved toward getting out of the bed. That was when she noticed the time.
Normally, if she had woken up when it was already past noon, Charlotte would have jumped out of bed and attempted to rush to her one o’ clock class. But her body did not feel much like jumping and probably would not feel much like rushing either. “You’re just going to have to get over it,” she told herself, and standing, bent over her center of gravity to stretch out all of the kinks in her body, already thinking of the story she could tell to her professors to get them to send her their lecture notes.
Thankfully, she managed to become fluid enough to walk to the kitchen. On the counter there was a note addressed to her from Natalie saying that she had contacted Charlotte’s professors and let them know she had not been feeling well that morning. “You are amazing, Natalie.” Charlotte poured herself a bowl of cereal and milk and migrated to the couch, clicking on the TV, once she was settled.
News Report:
And this just in, in an amazing feat, world renowned assassin and bounty hunter, Kenji Fujimoto was arrested today and held in FBI custody. No less than sixty accessories to Fujimoto were also taken into custody, and nearly each have testified that Atalanta broke into their secret base and took Fujimoto down. An anonymous tip to the FBI was called in early this morning, leading to the raid of the base and the detainment of Fujimoto.
Fujimoto, of Japanese origins, is an American citizen and will be tired in the United States for several cases of first degree murder, conspiracy to murder, and accessory to murder. We’ll have follow up stories as they come, but as this is the second time Atalanta has surfaced in the public, we have to wonder what marvel the super girl will accomplish next.
Charlotte clicked the power button the TV and chewed her cereal slowly. They made no mention of Riko, so she could only assume that the FBI had not caught her and did not want to send the public into panic at the idea of their being an extremely well trained assassin hanging out around their city. Or maybe they hadn’t known about her, but she and Kenji had sounded so much like they knew each other…Charlotte shut down the possibilities in her head; Riko had escaped and that was all that she needed to worry about.
Then there was the matter of the tip. Someone, who had most definitely not been her, had phoned in a tip to the FBI. So someone, besides her and the assassins and their minions, had to have been there. Now that she thought back on it, the guard who reported her missing to Kenji had also said that the guards watching her had been knocked out. And not everyone could just know where to find one of the world’s “most renowned” assassins. Someone had probably been tracking Kenji and Riko for a while. But more importantly, someone had helped her escape from their compound.
She had no idea where to even begin on how to look for that person, or even if she should. Charlotte wondered if she could even really get to the bottom of the files she had stolen on her own. She took a deep breath in and let all of the problems come on at a time. Right now she would not be able to conquer all of them, but one presented itself as fairly easy to do.
When he had signed up to be an intern, he never thought they would actually have him opening mail. He thought he would be learning the ropes of how to be a news anchor, not how to use a letter opener.
He almost ditched the one without the return address (he usually did with those, they were mostly useless), but the address of the station looked like it had been stamped on, rather than written. He tore the top of the letter open, and pulled out a single, manila sheet of paper. In block stamp letters was written:
He had to bite his hand to keep from shrieking in joy.
Kenji sat, bound tightly in his straight jacket, across from a glass window, waiting as his visitor took his seat.
“I never thought I would quite see the day when Kenji Fujimoto got caught,” he remarked as he brushed off his suit.
“Why are you here? I have no information for you. And obviously you would not want my services again.”
“Not that you’ll be available to give them,” said he with a wicked grin. “I want to know what she was like.” Kenji said nothing. “That good, huh? I look forward to meeting her then. And Kenji, do try to lighten up.”
“You have to know that neither of those is going to hurt me,” Atalanta said, clutching the map and the files more tightly to her chest.
“Actually I know nothing of the kind,” Riko replied. “I’m not so sure you do either. Perhaps the bullet will bounce off of your skin, perhaps not. And perhaps the blade will no pierce that olive flesh of yours, but one cannot know until we try.” Riko rushed toward her, firing off the gun, and reaching out to slice down with the sword as well. Atalanta felt the bullet imbed in her Kevlar suit, but did not touch her skin, and raised an arm up to block the sword, the metal striking against her arm, like another piece of steal. Riko looked at the bloodless indent in Atalanta’s arm, and screamed, drawing back to strike again, but Atlanta again blocked with her arm, this time pushing Riko away, and grabbed the woman’s sword arm.
“Now you know,” she said, before she pushed the woman back to hard, Riko crashed into the wall. Atalanta took that moment to run, out the office door and down the nearest corridor. She ran twisting her way into the compound, remembering just how many turns she took from Kenji’s office before she pressed herself against a wall once more, and opened up the map.
Kenji’s office was not clearly labeled, but she thought she might be able to tell based on the plan details where an exit bay was. Memorizing what she thought to be the route out, Atalanta folded up the few papers the files contained, and stuffed them into her shirt, feeling the paper crinkle against her skin as she began to run again. She chanted her turns over and over again, and soon enough, she found the exit bay at the end of the last corridor, but it was crawling with guards.
“There she is!” one shouted.
“Shit!” Atalanta cursed as twenty or more guards began to advance on her. She ran as far as she could into the bay, when she met with their bullets. Atalanta crossed her arms in front of her face and kept running until she met the guards themselves, and aimed for their faces, seeking to knock them back, or disorient them enough to grab a truck and get the hell out of the assassin base. But it seemed as many as she beat down the more that kept coming, and the more she had to fight them to get free. But her strength was well played, and soon they all lay knocked out around her.
Breathing hard, she ran for a truck, but did not make it more than twenty paces before she heard the familiar click of a cocking gun.
“You will not make it another ten paces, no matter how fast you are.” Atalanta recognized Kenji’s voice.
“Obviously, you didn’t get the memo,” Atalanta retorted. “Your partner already tried that, and it didn’t work.”
“If Riko had tried to kill you, you would be dead,” Kenji scoffed. Atalanta turned, and ran towards him, Kenji firing the gun once she did. She reached out her hand and caught the bullet once it ricocheted into her palm, grabbing Kenji by the collar with her other hand, holding him up into the air.
“Haven’t you heard?” she asked. “I’m the superwoman.” Kenji’s eyes grew wide as she dropped him and punched him right across the jaw. The man staggered backwards, and when he could stand, Atalanta had already reached one of their trucks and was driving off into the night. He stood, resolving to take another and go after her, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“She is already lost,” Riko said. “Let her go.”
“He will not be pleased that we managed to lose her,” he said. Riko smiled at him, and before Kenji could see, she punched him in the gut, and he doubled over coughing.
“Yes, he will not be much pleased with you at all, Kenji, but as for me, I am no longer needed here.” She raised a knee up, before she brought it into his face, knocking him out. “I told you she was more than she seemed, but you just wouldn’t listen, darling.”
Somewhere a few miles away from the compound and into the city, Atalanta ditched the truck. She was exhausted, and her legs ached, but she knew they would try and track her through it, so she got out and began to jog through the dark streets, testing her endurance. The moon was going down over one horizon, and the only things which lit the sky were the stars, and even many of them did not seem so bright. So she had been gone for almost the whole night, at the very least. At the very most…it had not sounded like they had had her for more than a day, but she would discount nothing until she was home.
Almost an hour later, she dragged herself up the fire escape of her apartment and managed to climb in the window, she body burning with protest. The first thing she did was strip off her shirt and drop the papers onto the table. Next came her pants as she was walking into her room, and then when she could sit at her desk, she unlaced the boots and pulled her feet free. She threw on a tee shirt and a pair of shorts over her naked body, before she went to the bathroom.
There in the florescent light of the mirror, she looked strange in a tee shirt and shorts with a mask on, and even though the mask had begun to itch a little, she stood for a moment and took herself in, admiring the strange sight.
“Charlotte?” Natalie asked from the dark doorway of her room. “Are you just getting in? Did something happen?”
“Something happened,” Charlotte agreed, applying the solute around the edges of her mask. Slowly, she managed to get more and more of the clear gel on, around and under the mask; it peeled away from her face, taking no skin with it.
“You hurt?” Natalie asked.
“No, but I’m exhausted. Go back to bed, Nat, we’ll talk more in the morning.” Natalie did not protest, and Charlotte heard the rustle of sheets as Natalie climbed into bed, just as she pulled the last bit of mask off. The skin around her eyes looked a little red, and blotchy, much like it did every night she put on her mask and went out to fight crime. But the aches and the pains and the exhaustion was finally hitting her, and she could no longer admire the strangeness of how she looked. She flicked of the light switch, and shuffled across the hall to her room, where she collapsed into bed.
The next morning, she regretted it.
Charlotte felt so stiff; she had no idea about how to even begin moving to stretch her out of it.
“I need to start doing parkour again,” she muttered, her body creaking and popping as she sat up in the bed. Charlotte let her top half fall slowly over her legs, trying to stretch as many muscles as she could, doing so. Next time, she swore to herself, next time she would stretch out, at least a little, before she even thought about falling asleep. Next time she would be better conditioned to. She had to be, because she really did not want to do this again.
When she could grab her feet with only mild discomfort, Charlotte moved toward getting out of the bed. That was when she noticed the time.
Normally, if she had woken up when it was already past noon, Charlotte would have jumped out of bed and attempted to rush to her one o’ clock class. But her body did not feel much like jumping and probably would not feel much like rushing either. “You’re just going to have to get over it,” she told herself, and standing, bent over her center of gravity to stretch out all of the kinks in her body, already thinking of the story she could tell to her professors to get them to send her their lecture notes.
Thankfully, she managed to become fluid enough to walk to the kitchen. On the counter there was a note addressed to her from Natalie saying that she had contacted Charlotte’s professors and let them know she had not been feeling well that morning. “You are amazing, Natalie.” Charlotte poured herself a bowl of cereal and milk and migrated to the couch, clicking on the TV, once she was settled.
News Report:
And this just in, in an amazing feat, world renowned assassin and bounty hunter, Kenji Fujimoto was arrested today and held in FBI custody. No less than sixty accessories to Fujimoto were also taken into custody, and nearly each have testified that Atalanta broke into their secret base and took Fujimoto down. An anonymous tip to the FBI was called in early this morning, leading to the raid of the base and the detainment of Fujimoto.
Fujimoto, of Japanese origins, is an American citizen and will be tired in the United States for several cases of first degree murder, conspiracy to murder, and accessory to murder. We’ll have follow up stories as they come, but as this is the second time Atalanta has surfaced in the public, we have to wonder what marvel the super girl will accomplish next.
Charlotte clicked the power button the TV and chewed her cereal slowly. They made no mention of Riko, so she could only assume that the FBI had not caught her and did not want to send the public into panic at the idea of their being an extremely well trained assassin hanging out around their city. Or maybe they hadn’t known about her, but she and Kenji had sounded so much like they knew each other…Charlotte shut down the possibilities in her head; Riko had escaped and that was all that she needed to worry about.
Then there was the matter of the tip. Someone, who had most definitely not been her, had phoned in a tip to the FBI. So someone, besides her and the assassins and their minions, had to have been there. Now that she thought back on it, the guard who reported her missing to Kenji had also said that the guards watching her had been knocked out. And not everyone could just know where to find one of the world’s “most renowned” assassins. Someone had probably been tracking Kenji and Riko for a while. But more importantly, someone had helped her escape from their compound.
She had no idea where to even begin on how to look for that person, or even if she should. Charlotte wondered if she could even really get to the bottom of the files she had stolen on her own. She took a deep breath in and let all of the problems come on at a time. Right now she would not be able to conquer all of them, but one presented itself as fairly easy to do.
When he had signed up to be an intern, he never thought they would actually have him opening mail. He thought he would be learning the ropes of how to be a news anchor, not how to use a letter opener.
He almost ditched the one without the return address (he usually did with those, they were mostly useless), but the address of the station looked like it had been stamped on, rather than written. He tore the top of the letter open, and pulled out a single, manila sheet of paper. In block stamp letters was written:
It’s superwoman, not super girl.
Atalanta
Atalanta
He had to bite his hand to keep from shrieking in joy.
Kenji sat, bound tightly in his straight jacket, across from a glass window, waiting as his visitor took his seat.
“I never thought I would quite see the day when Kenji Fujimoto got caught,” he remarked as he brushed off his suit.
“Why are you here? I have no information for you. And obviously you would not want my services again.”
“Not that you’ll be available to give them,” said he with a wicked grin. “I want to know what she was like.” Kenji said nothing. “That good, huh? I look forward to meeting her then. And Kenji, do try to lighten up.”