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Viewing Single Post From: A Solitude That Asks Nothing In Return
MK Kilmarnock
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Hate, hate, HATE!!!
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Tabi's anxiety and writhing were both all too apparent for Ivan as he gripped onto Tabi, the umbrella in his hand still outstretched. He wasn't sure why he had done what he just did, beyond the simple fact that he just wanted Etain and Clio to get lost, and leave him be. Even Tabi not being there would be a plus, but it seemed he was stuck with her, using her as some demented combination between a gambling chip and a meat shield in order to affirm his survival. And for what? So he could waste away, have his neck blown out, or be killed by somebody on this island completely forsaken by anything resembling a god. Just as sure as the twinge of pain in the knuckles of his right hand, what he had done had not worked. If anything, it actually made the situation worse.

Etain mumbled something in retaliation with that stupid accent of his once more. Well, Ivan had expected that he wasn't going to like it. Few people actually liked being punched in the face, and those who did were the sort that tended to worry the more conversative-minded Russian. Yet, even in the face of death, even he couldn't resist a quick verbal snap to Etain's neck, even if it was only in his mind. What did I do that for? Maybe because you're an unintelligable prick who's good at nothing except getting in my w-

A loud noise slammed through Ivan's eardrums. 'Loud' was a generously nice way of putting it, as well as horrendously understating. The gun in Clio's hands didn't appear to be all that large, probably wasn't any bigger than whatever it was that the police used, and yet it created a noise that tore through the air akin to thunder. Ivan flinched from his position of being tucked behind Tabi, his arm tightening around her, his grip lying just below her neck, below her collar. So Clio's gun was definitely loaded and primed, if there were any doubts about that. Ivan hadn't been banking on that gun being inactive, but now it was confirmed in the most startling of ways that, if Clio saw it fit, any one of them could be dead. His heartrate picked up a little, his mind racing as Clio continued to give her selfish demands.

But what was...


The sharp, shrill voice of his mother could punch Ivan into full alertness, even from the opposite side of the court. He shook himself out of the fatigue that was setting in; he couldn't allow himself to fall to that. Without a word, for all of his air had been taken by his panting, Ivan looked up from his feet to see his mother. Her face was hard to make out at this distance, but her body language, her stance said everything he needed to know.

"You're watching my racket too much! You need to watch all of your opponent. You hear me? All of it! Return these next few shots, or we're doing the footfire again!"

Ivan grunted a response the best he could manage with his strained lungs, and straightened his back. Watch the whole person, figure out what they're going to do next...

Ivan had noticed it. Maybe not at first, but now he was realizing what was wrong with this picture. Something about Clio's face when she fired that gun, it told him... fright? Pain? He couldn't pick it out, but there was some sort of agony tied to her firing that weapon. It was the smallest of things to pick on, but he also realized that it was the harbinger of the only factor that might let him make it out of this situation alive.

... Thank you, mom...

Ivan leaned his head closer to Tabi's, until his mouth was right under her ear. He whispered something very slight, almost a breath. It was all that needed to be said and nothing more as Ivan made the most difficult movements of his entire life thus far.

"When I let go, run into the woods. I'll catch up."

His left hand snapped forward, thrusting the opened umbrella up towards Clio's face. The tense, white-knuckle grip on the handle was released, sending the implement towards the girl who threatened to end all of Ivan's plans, as short-term as they may have been. Releasing Tabi from his grip and pushing off her shoulder in order to aid acceleration, Ivan ran right for the girl with the gun. This had to work, it had to, or he was dead. Dead sooner than he wanted to be, before he could be sure that death was near, and he could say his goodbyes to Louis, and to the rest of his family. Before that time, he was not dying. He simply would not allow it.

Ivan had something special to give to Clio. Etain had gotten the right hand, his non-dominant arm. He didn't have a gun pointed at Ivan. Piling all of his pent up frustration and anger from being bothered, from the fear of dying alone, from having his life being taken from him, from being threatened, from this whole. Damn. FUCKING. GAME. All of that went to Ivan's stronger, dominant left arm as he lunged at Clio to try and take her down.

Or die trying.
Edited by MK Kilmarnock, Aug 21 2010, 07:13 PM.
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A Solitude That Asks Nothing In Return · The Woods: Coastal