Post by wblstudios on Apr 21, 2006 16:09:09 GMT -5
Fade in on a scene set up for a Warriors-style brawl. The broken down living corpse Ellis Island, the busty hardcore babe Josephine Miyazaki, and the overly kawaii cutie-pie Kikyo Daioh, almost prepared to brawl with each other, now found themselves at 2:30 in the morning in the middle of the Philadelphia streets, accosted by a quintet of Latino thugs headed by a 400 pound gangster by the name of Big Hector. If a gun was present on either side, it’d have been pulled by now, so the gang shootings of the city streets would simply give way to an intimidation standoff.
With a quick movement, but not as quick as to upset the gangsta pack in front of her, Josephine pulled out her car keys and tossed them over to little Kikyo. The terrified girl didn’t even see the action, as the keys unceremoniously hit her in the side of the head and fell to the ground as Josephine walked up to Big Hector, swaying her hips and pouting her lips as only she could.
Jojo: Tell you what big boy... I like a strong powerful man who knows what he wants. And I could use a little... mmm... companionship tonight. But I warn you... it’s gonna take all five of you boys to handle me.
Ellis, for her part, simply stood her ground. Standing as still and cold as death itself. Catching something out of the corner of her eye, Ellis didn’t even bother to move her head, simply shift the gaze of her hidden eyes slightly to the left... apparently, this impromptu distraction was all the time Kikyo, who had recovered pretty quickly (if it wasn’t an act to begin with), needed to get the keys, get to the trunk of the Ferrari, and open it up, revealing a cavalcade of hardcore weapons... apparently, Jojo was more hardcore than once thought, knowing that a brawl could start anywhere... a lot of the independents still had the 24/7 rule attached to their hardcore belts.
Kikyo: JOJO-CHAN! ELLIS-SAMA! CATCH!
That prompt was all Jojo needed, as a kendo stick went flying into the air, and landed right in her outstretched hand. Grabbing a steel chair, Kikyo tossed it to Ellis, only to have the corpse girl swat it down in favor of her blood-stained boxcutter.
Jojo: Let me show you boys how I work a stick!
Ellis: This is no beginning... this is the final cut.
Kikyo: FIGHT FOR AWESOME VICTORY!
And then... it was on.
A philosopher once said that you could tell somebody’s true spirit by the way they fight. Knowing Ellis and Jojo and seeing them in action that night, that philosopher couldn’t have been more wrong. The wild and reckless Josephine handled her kendo stick like a true samurai, each movement a meaning, and each swipe connecting with precision accuracy and amazing skill, cracking the bones and shattering the nerves of the two thugs sent after her. Almost graceful in her violence, Jojo tore into the two thugs with slash after slash... had it been a true samurai sword, they would have been severed a hundred times over. As it was, they were battered and bruised beyond recognition.
In contrast, the quiet and solitary Ellis showed no mercy and no regard for her own pale, fragile body as she took to the other two thugs with her boxcutter. No longer concerned with carving into herself to relieve her stress, her blade found a home first in one man’s chest, driving around and making arcane carvings Ellis only understood in the back of her mind. Moving on to her second thug, those tombstone-gray eyes showing no emotion, she went low and slashed at his legs, driving and cutting and gouging until he was sure he’d never be able to walk again.
Both women were out to cripple these gang members, and both women were doing a damned good job. Four down, and one to go. All that stood now was Big Hector, who was quickly shying off, staring down an insanely busty samurai and a blood-soaked corpse girl. Kikyo, thinking about her safety and knowing the two women had the situation well in hand, had locked herself in the Ferrari. Jojo’s seductive walk was replaced by a samurai’s slow step and practiced stance as she made her way over to Hector, kendo stick gripped firmly in both hands.
Jojo: Well, now, motherfucker, seems like your friends weren‘t able to do shit. So, what do you plan on doing now?
It seemed the massive Puerto Rican still had one ace left up his sleeve... or rather, in his low-riding jeans. Hector must have been smarter than Josephine thought... waiting until he needed it most to pull out his gun.
Big Hector: If Big Hector and the Corner Store Bouriquas go down tonight, I’m taking one of you chicas with me!
Everything next seemed to happen in slow motion. Hector turning his attention to the Ferrari, and the tiny little head peeking out of the window. Jojo’s shock that this man would actually use his last gasp to kill little Kikyo. The gun raising and aiming right at her head. Then that same gun flying into the air... hand still attached... and falling to the ground as Hector stared blankly at his severed hand. And the cold, dark figure standing behind him...
Apparently, Ellis had traded her boxcutter for one of the thug’s switchblades at just the right time. But the amount of strength and accuracy it must have taken to either sever the joints in the wrist, or cut the bone itself, even with a switchblade, gave even Jojo pause as she laid her kendo stick down.
Ellis: If your convictions hold you so strong... then let that hand be replaced by the right hand of God. If not... maybe it’s time you reevaluate your life. Either way... the blood was delicious.
It only took a split second for Josephine to look over, and see in the Ferrari that Kikyo was unhurt, albeit shaken up a bit. But split seconds are all it takes for the living dead, and Ellis was gone, her only traces left being her spilt cola, and her trademark blood-stained handprint left on a manhole cover lying next to the now handicapped gang member and his near-dead companions.
A scene of gruesome violence, indeed, but not one that Jojo had time to let totally soak in. With all the shit that was going on, she didn’t have time to get mixed up with police, who would assuredly write this off as more gang-on-gang violence come morning. Jojo ran back to her car, humongous breasts bouncing so madly as she ran that she thought for a second one was going to smack her in the face as she slid into the driver’s seat and peeled off.
And somewhere in the city, a living dead girl lulls herself to sleep with the scent of blood and the thought that maybe 2:30 AM isn’t so bad after all.
---
~Ellis & Josephine
With a quick movement, but not as quick as to upset the gangsta pack in front of her, Josephine pulled out her car keys and tossed them over to little Kikyo. The terrified girl didn’t even see the action, as the keys unceremoniously hit her in the side of the head and fell to the ground as Josephine walked up to Big Hector, swaying her hips and pouting her lips as only she could.
Jojo: Tell you what big boy... I like a strong powerful man who knows what he wants. And I could use a little... mmm... companionship tonight. But I warn you... it’s gonna take all five of you boys to handle me.
Ellis, for her part, simply stood her ground. Standing as still and cold as death itself. Catching something out of the corner of her eye, Ellis didn’t even bother to move her head, simply shift the gaze of her hidden eyes slightly to the left... apparently, this impromptu distraction was all the time Kikyo, who had recovered pretty quickly (if it wasn’t an act to begin with), needed to get the keys, get to the trunk of the Ferrari, and open it up, revealing a cavalcade of hardcore weapons... apparently, Jojo was more hardcore than once thought, knowing that a brawl could start anywhere... a lot of the independents still had the 24/7 rule attached to their hardcore belts.
Kikyo: JOJO-CHAN! ELLIS-SAMA! CATCH!
That prompt was all Jojo needed, as a kendo stick went flying into the air, and landed right in her outstretched hand. Grabbing a steel chair, Kikyo tossed it to Ellis, only to have the corpse girl swat it down in favor of her blood-stained boxcutter.
Jojo: Let me show you boys how I work a stick!
Ellis: This is no beginning... this is the final cut.
Kikyo: FIGHT FOR AWESOME VICTORY!
And then... it was on.
A philosopher once said that you could tell somebody’s true spirit by the way they fight. Knowing Ellis and Jojo and seeing them in action that night, that philosopher couldn’t have been more wrong. The wild and reckless Josephine handled her kendo stick like a true samurai, each movement a meaning, and each swipe connecting with precision accuracy and amazing skill, cracking the bones and shattering the nerves of the two thugs sent after her. Almost graceful in her violence, Jojo tore into the two thugs with slash after slash... had it been a true samurai sword, they would have been severed a hundred times over. As it was, they were battered and bruised beyond recognition.
In contrast, the quiet and solitary Ellis showed no mercy and no regard for her own pale, fragile body as she took to the other two thugs with her boxcutter. No longer concerned with carving into herself to relieve her stress, her blade found a home first in one man’s chest, driving around and making arcane carvings Ellis only understood in the back of her mind. Moving on to her second thug, those tombstone-gray eyes showing no emotion, she went low and slashed at his legs, driving and cutting and gouging until he was sure he’d never be able to walk again.
Both women were out to cripple these gang members, and both women were doing a damned good job. Four down, and one to go. All that stood now was Big Hector, who was quickly shying off, staring down an insanely busty samurai and a blood-soaked corpse girl. Kikyo, thinking about her safety and knowing the two women had the situation well in hand, had locked herself in the Ferrari. Jojo’s seductive walk was replaced by a samurai’s slow step and practiced stance as she made her way over to Hector, kendo stick gripped firmly in both hands.
Jojo: Well, now, motherfucker, seems like your friends weren‘t able to do shit. So, what do you plan on doing now?
It seemed the massive Puerto Rican still had one ace left up his sleeve... or rather, in his low-riding jeans. Hector must have been smarter than Josephine thought... waiting until he needed it most to pull out his gun.
Big Hector: If Big Hector and the Corner Store Bouriquas go down tonight, I’m taking one of you chicas with me!
Everything next seemed to happen in slow motion. Hector turning his attention to the Ferrari, and the tiny little head peeking out of the window. Jojo’s shock that this man would actually use his last gasp to kill little Kikyo. The gun raising and aiming right at her head. Then that same gun flying into the air... hand still attached... and falling to the ground as Hector stared blankly at his severed hand. And the cold, dark figure standing behind him...
Apparently, Ellis had traded her boxcutter for one of the thug’s switchblades at just the right time. But the amount of strength and accuracy it must have taken to either sever the joints in the wrist, or cut the bone itself, even with a switchblade, gave even Jojo pause as she laid her kendo stick down.
Ellis: If your convictions hold you so strong... then let that hand be replaced by the right hand of God. If not... maybe it’s time you reevaluate your life. Either way... the blood was delicious.
It only took a split second for Josephine to look over, and see in the Ferrari that Kikyo was unhurt, albeit shaken up a bit. But split seconds are all it takes for the living dead, and Ellis was gone, her only traces left being her spilt cola, and her trademark blood-stained handprint left on a manhole cover lying next to the now handicapped gang member and his near-dead companions.
A scene of gruesome violence, indeed, but not one that Jojo had time to let totally soak in. With all the shit that was going on, she didn’t have time to get mixed up with police, who would assuredly write this off as more gang-on-gang violence come morning. Jojo ran back to her car, humongous breasts bouncing so madly as she ran that she thought for a second one was going to smack her in the face as she slid into the driver’s seat and peeled off.
And somewhere in the city, a living dead girl lulls herself to sleep with the scent of blood and the thought that maybe 2:30 AM isn’t so bad after all.
---
~Ellis & Josephine
