momentum's breath [r]

[KLIEN LIVESSAY]

Klien and Lindsay had been poking through bounty hits all morning. There wasn't anything very interesting, or worth their time. The highest reward was 150v if the two of them successfully returning a missing daughter to her family. It was tempting --Klien fingered the paper with a thoughtful purse of the lips-- to find the girl and re-kidnap her, but it was almost entirely too much of an effort. They were better off picking up a random kid off the street. The rest of the ad's weren't much better: 'Find my lost puppy', 'Save us from the Benrackle', '50v for the head of the thief'.

"What do we look like, saints?" Klien scoffed, nearly ripping the post off the wall out of nothing but sheer frustration. "All of these posts are from the bastards that owe us money, half of which are posting for our fucking heads. Do they really think they could get away with it?"

The Outpost was buzzing with the usual medley of mercenaries, bounties, and hunters getting gear together and food into their stomachs in preparation for the day. If they didn't have a posting already, Klien assumed they would pull one down form the wall before her. "I'll be damned if I let the bastards put a secret hit out on my head," she growled and ripped at every posting with so much as an allusion to the Black Collars.

Leaving the wall substantially emptier, Klien turned on a heel and slapped Lindsey on the shoulder with a solid stack of seven posters for him to take. Klien wasn't about to carry them. "Come on. We have work to do." Her magenta eyes glinted in the morning light as the two made for the door. "The Boss will pay us nicely if we can drag in the bastard that think they can move out of our territory."

tags: lindsay [zi!], guillotine [zulu!], and axe [kai!]
word count: 321
notes: soexciedforthisthread
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[lindsay]

*~*A Typical Morning*~*

The androgynous male stood flirtatiously as he watched a frustrated Klein tear down posted bounties from the Outpost wall. Clicking his pearly whites down on his Quellazaire, he took a slow drag and gave a smooth exhale; letting the smoke roll from his come-hither lips. With a free hand he began primping his Powdery-Blue locks.

"What do we look like, saints?"

Jokingly the effeminate man replied,

"Well, maybe I do..."

implying that he was prettier than Klien.

"But looks sure as hell aren't getting me into heaven."

However, it being so early in the morning, Klien typically ignored any smart-ass jokes that came out of Lindsays mouth. And, of course, as-per-usual Klien was in one of her tizzies. Something that wasn't uncommon whenever they came to the hunters hangout. She always hated pitiful bounties, especially ones against the Black Collars. People watched as she tore down the posters; though Lindsay was so used to these displays from his partner that it seemed perfectly normal. He just went with the motions.

Feeling the slap of half-a-dozen posters on his shoulder, he shifted an annoyed glance to Klien as she signaled for them to go. Taking the papers in hand, he turned on his heels. Swishing close behind his partner as he casually lit the parchments on fire, throwing them into a trashcan full of empty booze bottles; which promptly burst into flames as the barkeep ran about in a frenzy to try and put the flames out. Shaking a fist, he yelled at the two as they exited the bar. Lindsay quickly threw a sideways glare; instantly silencing the barkeeper when he realized who they were.

"Oh! S-s-s-sorry Mistress!"

The man stuttered as he went about his work. Lindsay facing back to the exit with a feeling of self satisfaction as he mumbled,

"Good boy..."

Word Count: 313
Notes: This is going to be so fun .

[AXE RAVAGE]

TELL ME WHY I SHOULDN'T TEAR YOU DOWN

Having something, in Axe’s opinion, was better than nothing. This belief had little to do with waxing philosophy but with a hardened practicality honed by living on the streets. Thinking was a chore left for those who had the time. energy, and need not listen to their stomachs growling in extreme hunger. His finger went a little deeper, curving slightly as the Ravage concentrated wholeheartedly on removing the irritant in his nose. Right now, he wanted to have a professional nose-digger to help him. Was there even such a job available? Half of him thought about it for a second before shifting to the current, urgent matter.

His nose.

Twitching it, Axe’s brows furrowed. “Ahhhhhh fuck it!” Slamming his fist onto the bar counter, he proceeded to wipe his finger off the nearest person – some rugged stranger talking animatedly to another – without so much of a glance. Stretching his left arm, he watched in open amusement at the sight of a purple-haired woman viciously ripping off posters from the board. Either she was being featured on most of them or she was crazy enough to handle that many bounties and jobs at one go. He watched her turn, throwing the pile onto her companion before the two exchanged some words. He squinted before cursing again. It would have been helpful if he could actually see their faces.

There had been a substantial lack of women in Axe’s life and he intended to make up for it. Fellow Ravages were removed from his list since it was too troublesome to attempt starting anything with them. Besides, most of the female Ravages could be categorised as Father’s Wives, Those-Who-Are-Too-Young, Those-Who-Aren’t-Into-Women and Those-Who-Cannot-Stand-The-Sight-Of-Him.

Axe stood up, accidentally knocking into his Finger-Wiper. As tempting as it was to stay back for a possible challenge and breaking several fingers in another venue (since Father swore he would kill Axe if the latter tried got into trouble at the Outpost), the Ravage was too caught up in following the two women to bother starting a fight. The bartender had, of course, raised a brow at Axe’s unusual behaviour before deciding that it was best not to probe. Or get the lanky giant to pay for his drinks.

Meanwhile, the Bogeyman was on the move. He had strolled out of the Outpost several minutes after the women left, and upon noticing the flash of purple, Axe had smiled to himself. The woman appeared suitable for Father… or himself. “Heh.” Tying up the bandana over his left eye, the giant skulked after them at a comfortable distance. It was too warm for him to be moving too fast, even as his legs covered large paces easily. His worn down singlet clung to the perspiration, forming wet blots across his back. Shoving one hand into his pocket, Axe started whistling. Off-key. For a stalker, he was doing a horribly poor job. Not like it mattered. Axe was much more interested in watching the swaying hips of both women and entertaining the perverse thoughts running through his mind.

TAG;; Klien [Claus], Lindsay [Zi]? & Gul [Zulu]?
COMMENTS;; Posting in here since Zi & Zulu might not be involved in the thread anymore :/ BUT I hope this post pleases you, m'dear 'husband'... lol. /leashes Axe before he starts biting somebody
AHEM, btw, Axe mistook Lindsay for a woman. Lol.

[KLIEN LIVESSAY]

Their exit of the Outpost was a quick and painless matter, mostly for the fact that Klien was too busy boiling over the seized wanted ads to notice how many eyes followed the pair of feminine gangsters out of the bar. Lucky for the breakfasting lechers, someone else had earned themselves a visit from a very unhappy gangster. "Lindz, which one should we visit first?" When the question fell on empty air, Klien stopped peering back through the propped open doorway at Lindsay conversing, rather smugly, with a native. "What the fuck was that?" Klien asked as her partner passed through the open doorway.

"Oh nothing. Just anther new fan," He said, with a dismissive flick of the wrist. Klien rolled her eyes suppressing disgusted gag and followed Lindsay off the Outpost's deck and onto the dusty path. "Gimme one of those, princess," she ordered, ungracefully plucking one of the many parchments from Lindsay's grip. "I'll deal with this one now. You can take your royal rear-side back to Ezra. He'll decide what to do with the rest of them." She quit skimming the ad to toss a smirk of a smile at Lindsay. "Keep your favorite if you think you can catch any without breaking a nail."

"Keep talking like that and people will think you are the boss-man." Lindsay and Klien shared a small, leering look before the soldier turned his back and, hips sways, moseyed his way back to their bunker.

Klien parted ways with her partner and ventured in the opposite direction. The accuser of the ad resided somewhere in on the outskirts of Ravageland, complaining that the Collars were encroaching on territory that wasn't their own when in fact, he was trying to play the boundaries to get the sides quarreling so he could slip out scott-free. The paper crumpled in Klien's grip as she set her sights, and a twisted cruel smile, on the Ravageland. There was no way the fuckers were getting out free --and there way no way she was letting the Ravages have the pay-off.

tags: axe [kai!]
word count: 351
notes: now that's I've RPed Lindasy out, lets get it on >D
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[AXE RAVAGE]

TELL ME WHY I SHOULDN'T TEAR YOU DOWN

Axe licked his lips. Imagining the pliant bodies of both women on top of and below him proved to be a great distraction from the heat that made him regret crawling out of the makeshift bed. He watched his victims-to-be, half-hypnotised by the way they strutted. It looked as if they were headed elsewhere – finishing up those bounties, maybe? – which pleased him till his lips threatened to stretch beyond his face. Nothing was more attractive than watching women fight and kick some ass. Maybe he’d catch a taste of their blood somehow. That would make his day!

The Ravage slowed down. His women were taking separate paths, the long haired one sashaying her way towards the right and the other taking the opposite route. He frowned. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They were partners, weren’t they? Partners – what he learned from some of the Family members – stuck together to complete missions. It sounded like a bunch of bullshit to him. Ravages had no need for partners. They were good enough to work independently. Axe shrugged, looking both ways before deciding to follow the one who had been ripping off posters in the bar. He could always catch the other one later.

Minutes stretched under the sweltering heat. Axe felt his irritation growing. Where was the woman headed to? His tongue darted out to wet his lips, hissing softly at the cracked texture. His visible eye narrowed. They were nearing the juncture that would lead to Ravageland. While it had been some time since the Ravages had a proper gathering of sorts, Axe was pretty certain that this purple haired woman was not part of his Family. A tickling sensation rose at the back of his throat. He had no idea that it was actually a sense of responsibility, however vague it might be, but Axe understood that any potential threat to the Family was to be removed. Permanently.

He grinned. Directing a lingering leer at the woman’s back, Axe had a rare moment of ingenuity. Instead of wasting such a fine body, he could bring her to Father who would definitely appreciate his efforts into fetching him a new wife or plaything. The whistling stopped as he continued following her. Looks like it ain’t gonna be a boring day after all.

Concurrently, the accuser was congratulating himself on thinking up such a wonderful plan to get rid of his enemies. He was in his mid-thirties with a pale pallor typical of most Ravageland inhabitants. A rough uneven crop of short brown hair shone with greasiness as thin fingers ran through them, looking every bit a retired soldier who no longer cared about his personal hygiene. He smacked his lips angrily. The Ravage family – gods, how their very existence mocked the meaning of ‘family’! – were nothing more than terrorists banded together by a deranged man. As for the Black Collars, he grunted, spectacles sliding down for the umpteenth time, he had no personal vendettas against them. It was simply for the sake of greater good to choose one of the bloodthirsty gangs to start a war with the Ravages. He pushed up the spectacles, reaching for the crutches leaning against the half-buried table. It was time to prepare for the arrival of his guests. Hopefully one of them would bear good news. Or a Ravage’s head. The slightly pot-bellied man laughed hoarsely, hobbling his way to secure the multiple locks on his door. A rifle was then loaded and placed on his lap, covered by a tray of cups containing warm tasteless tea.

TAG;; Klien [Claus]
COMMENTS;; Hell yeah! Btw, I threw in the NPC so feel free to get Klien to interact with him and all.

[KLIEN LIVESSAY]

The whistling grated on Klien's consciousness all the more after parting with Lindsay. The heat of the day did no more good for the Black Collar's mood; during the trekk from the Outpost to the edges of Ravageland, she had removed her gloves, undone the fastenings to her coat, and could feel the gentle, curls of her hair sticking to the sweat on the back of her neck, but she refused to mar her most valued feature by knotting it up, as so many did, on the top of her head or smothering it with some sort of futile sun-shield.

Determined not to let it --or the whistling of that pesky stalker-- deter her from her destination, Klien marched on until she sighted the black tree and skulls marking the start of Ravageland. Here Klien paused only long enough to look left and right while lifting her hair off her neck. And there it was, the ramshackle mud-hut of a house she was sure she could kick over with her combat boot. It sat far enough off the main road that passed beneath the ravaged skulls to appear both in and out of Ravageland, depending where one stood. Klien sneered and dropped her hair, knowing that sitting inside was the yellow-bellied piece of filth that thought he could double-cross her and the rest of the Collars.

"Time to work," she sneered, running a single finger along the frame of her face to perfect the lay of her hair, and without sparing a look over her shoulder at the mysteriously disappearing whistling --good riddance he was finally gone!-- Klien strode for the front door. On the way, she picked up a scrap of sun-hot metal, lost by someone with lumbering to this shack or daring the Ravage's town. She turned it over in her hand as she walked, grateful for the gloves padding her hand even though she didn't wear them proper. It'll do, she decided, and stooped to pick up an unassuming rock sitting before the door.

Carefully, and rather daintily, Klien flattened the piece wanted poster on the door, centered it just so, poised the metal sliver toward the top, and with two good THWACKS of the rock, the poster was pinned to the door. The pot-bellied man inside stared wide-eyed at the metal shard protruding through his door. He jumped further at the sound of the rock being dropped haphazardly and worriedly made sure to settle himself lest he spill is tea. The curiosity and fear, Klien knew, would get to him eventually and then, when he came out, then she would get him. Until then, she would let it fester.

It was then, turning away from the entrance of the treasonous in search of a perch upon which to wait, that Klien saw her stalker in full, blazing hot, Ravageland sunlight. He was tall and lanky, with a long, scraggly curtain of dark hair that half hid an black eye-patch. Klien stopped and met his beady eye squarely. She neither smiled nor frowned. “Axe Ravage.” Who hadn’t heard rumors of his sadistic endeavors? “What the fuck do you want?”

Work might just have to wait.

tags: axe [kai!]
word count: 538
notes: the shiz is about to hit the faaaan!
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[AXE RAVAGE]

TELL ME WHY I SHOULDN'T TEAR YOU DOWN

The Ravage had not been following the woman as closely as he preferred. Hardly a fan of the blistering heat, he chose to walk slowly, occasionally bunching up his singlet to wipe off the gathering perspiration. After one such moment, Axe realised belatedly that he had lost sight of his prey. Cursing and kicking the innocent sand grains on the path, he had quickened his pace before noticing that he was nearing a very familiar house. “…’ta hell…” he grumbled, half-wondering if the woman was related to the lumpy man in any way. He stopped behind her, watching the woman’s actions with growing curiosity.

Then, of all the things that could have happened, Axe had not been ready for this. It was comical, really, considering his trademark leer and prominent height, but the giant never expected to be recognised so easily…much less by the attractive purple haired woman he had been tailing for some time. He took a second to digest this moment. “Eh,” he met her stare with a narrowed eye, “How da fuck do yer know me?” Taking a single step forward so that they were just an arm’s length apart, Axe lowered his head. Tongue flicking out like a snake, he studied the woman’s face. She had sharp, alert eyes with a heart-shaped face, lips which men – and possibly some women – would love to savour, and an elegant nose that reminded him of those nobles who strutted the streets with that annoying look as if everyone else were garbage. Yet it was the fierce hardness in those eyes that had Axe’s lips lifting upwards in a semi-sneer. That was the look of somebody who belonged to the Down Below.

There was something much more important though. He had no idea who this woman was. An infuriating piece of information to swallow, indeed, seeing how the woman knew his identity while he was clueless about hers. “Yer don’t look nothin’ like ‘em lawsies.” He cracked a crooked grin. Straightening his back, he blinked. Then jerked his head towards the run-down hut. It was a picture perfect house compared to other buildings in Ravageland. “What’s yer business ‘ere?” Axe scowled, the thought returning to him. “Yer too pretty to be Yolkie’s,” then added under his breath, “…Ain’t deserving of the fucktard.” The Ravage’s mouth was twisted further as he recalled the man’s efforts to rally other Ravageland’s citizens against his Family. Father did not take too kindly to Yolkie’s presumptuous manners and had sent a few of his Children after him.

The satisfaction of breaking Yolkie’s legs was one that he would never forget.

The accuser, otherwise known as Yolkie due to the constant yellowish stain on his clothes, was trying desperately to listen in to their conversation. Having been surprised by the loud sounds from before, he had gulped down two cups of tea, then shifted to the side to peek out at them from the tiny gaps in his bolted windows. Like the rest of the building, they had been secured with wooden planks and scraps of metal. Yolkie nervously swallowed a lump of saliva, inching forward very slowly on the rolling chair.

TAG;; Klien [Claus]
COMMENTS;; ...lol don't ask how I came up with the accuser's name. Random is random xD

[KLIEN LIVESSAY]

His answer wasn't one she didn't expect.

She scowled as he looked her over, appraising her as if she were something to be owned. The sick bastard was going to get the notice pinned into his good eye if he didn't quit leering at her like that. But Klien Livessay had too much pride to simply brush past a confrontation. He was in her way and Klien never did walk around walls. She knocked them down as she went --and she didn't want this one staring at her ass as she walked away either.

Still, it made her stomach sick to think she was breathing the same air as a Ravage and the guile rising in her throat kept her from answering such a simple question as how she knew him. It was the mention of the invisible Yolkie and the implication that she belonged to him that had her near spitting the words at Axe's face.

"I am Klien Livessay," the announcement was a stately one as she halved the space between them. She was not afraid of a man with one measly eye, "and my business is none of your concern, cyclops." Each word was articulated with care and coupled with an expression of mock innocence that lasted only as long as it took the words to register in his brain. "This Yolkie, as you call him," she met the eye and raised her brows in a silent question before a dark look clouded her face, "He is mine." She bared her teeth with the word and eyed Axe up and down. "Keep your... kind away from him. And you--" Her hand shot out, pinching his chin and squeezing his cheeks so his lips puckered in an absurd kiss, as she held his face, with strength not normal for a woman, in place. She wanted to make sure that single eye of his could look no where else. "You are never too look at me like that again," she seethed.

She spat at his feet and missed the dirt, before roughly releasing-- shoving his face out of her sights. "Next time I pluck it out."

tags: axe [kai!]
word count: 368
notes: my Klien muse is back!
[/size]

[AXE RAVAGE]

TELL ME WHY I SHOULDN'T TEAR YOU DOWN

Once released from her grasp, he spat against the ground, making sure to let his spit hit a further distance than hers – because he was better. Her touch had ignited an oozy sort of pleasure within him. Disbelief and irritation soon melted into anticipation. “I’ll look at ya however I like,” he licked his lips, “Woman.” He enjoyed belittling others, throwing them a hook to see if they would bite it willingly, or be tangled in the web of insults he would weave.

Still, Axe couldn’t help smiling widely. She was gutsy. He liked that. A challenge kept him from swinging into one of his more dangerous moods. Keeping true to his words, Axe’s gaze roved unashamedly towards Klien’s chest. Who knew what sort of trouble he might get into after dealing with her?

He loved trouble.

His fang-like teeth grinded in need of the pure bliss he would derive from taunting her. Baiting her. “Ya wanna take Yolkie?” Axe drew up to his normal height, towering over her easily as he cocked his head. “Go ahead,” he swung his left arm forward, within range of hitting Klien, “Try.” There was no love lost between Axe and Yolkie, especially when the latter had already condemned all Ravages to the darkest depths of Hell, and the former would care less for a whiney nutcase.

“Show me wha’ ya got,” he sneered, starting to circle her like a hungry vulture, “Woman.” A derisive tone cackling with glee echoed in the empty grounds. He kept her in his sight, hands hanging loosely by his side. It was a deceptively casual stance, as Axe was ready to throw a punch any moment. Just four more steps and he would reach the front of Yolkie’s shack. The man hidden in the temporary safety of his house grinned, having gained a better vantage point of seeing the Black Collar and Ravage. He readied his rifle.

TAG;; Klien [Claus]
COMMENTS;; Woot! Anyway, Yolkie isn't going to shoot them... yet. He will do so soon, so Klien and Axe can either team up to take him down, or just... fight each other AND Yolkie at the same time xD

[KENNETH ALMIAS]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
xx
SHALL WE RIDE ATOP THE SHOULDERS OF GIANTS?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” A voice cut through the silence of the abode like a lightning strike amidst a bright and early morning. Yolkie spun quickly, rifle quick to follow the turn of his body. But the human body doesn’t move quite as quick as the eyes. At least, not without the proper training. The cooped up ingrate could see nothing in his quaint little shack. Contemplating whether it was his nerves playing tricks on him, he turned back towards the two hoodlums that were about to come to blows outside of his home. Yet instead of the vantage point he had laid claim to, a young man now stood in front of him. A sinister smile spread on the lips of the dark-haired newcomer.

The older man attempted to fire his rifle, at this range it would have been impossible not to put a hole through the invader’s heart. However that was impossible to do with his trigger finger missing. A stream of red liquid flowed freely onto the gun and onto the floor below. He tried to scream but realized a hand clamped tightly over his mouth and his rifle wrested from his hands as he was eased out of his rolling chair. Muffled screams, one after the other, could only be heard between the two. Yolkie wanted to struggle, wanted to get away but now found himself frozen. Most likely due to the bloodied spoon positioned under his right eye.

“I apologize for the crude instrument. I didn’t want to soil my own weapon and this was the closest at hand. But I suppose it did a fine job of disarming you…now, now, I was just teasing.” Kenneth Almias cooed softly as he stroked the brown hair of the man, chuckling from a joke he cared not to explain. The shack was in horrible disarray and had Ken not valued the man’s attempt at a clever ruse to pit the gangs against one another, he’d have chopped the cretin into a hundred pieces and redecorated the interior of the little hovel. Kenneth noted the odd setup and tapped the spoon against the glasses of the man, which had slid to the tip of his nose as he shivered. Was it in fear…or in anger?

“Oh, were you a soldier at one point? It looks like a setup for a sniper perch…haven’t seen one of those in awhile. Hm, I regret taking your trigger finger…you could’ve been useful.” Taking a look at the man’s rolling chair and crutch that laid propped up next to his setup, Kenneth retracted his statement. This man was a broken shell of what he once was. Kenneth wanted to smile all the wider when the man stole a glance around his home.

“How...” Yolkie began but was swiftly cut off with a chuckle from his captor. It was a chuckle born of mirth alone but one that was condescending, like an adult who heard a silly question from a child.

“How did I get in, you ask? Easier than you would think but you do have this place boarded up quite securely. However, you don’t live as long as I have without knowing how to sneak into a heavily guarded area, let alone a cruddy little shanty slapped together with wood and strips of metal. That would just be insulting.” Kenneth helped the man back into his chair and patted his shoulder as he handed Yolkie his rifle. Ken was still smiling but Yolkie could understand the threat behind the way the younger man looked at him…a threat that said the rifle in hands would do little good should he try to use it again. But those eyes...one shade different from the other, one a deep red and the other a dull blue. Those eyes kept Yolkie's mouth from opening as he clenched his teeth tight.

“I am humbled by your attempt to orchestrate this scheme but you are missing that spark to ignite a full scale war between the Ravages and the Collars. It had traces of poise and seemed quite subtle, but I think more is needed to really get these two set upon one another. Little skirmishes like the one outside? Fine and glorious in its simplicity but it lacks the grandeur of what can truly be accomplished. For now we will sit back and watch this macabre scene play out…from there, we will decide what to do with you, my filthy little sniper.”

Axe Ravage was someone he had heard hushed whispers about, a mighty one-eyed beast of a man. A man whom Kenneth had wanted to meet for a long time coming. Yet the woman that challenged this monster was a rising star in the ranks of the Black Collars, a woman who he only knew by the color of her hair. Both had the capabilities to be woven into his web, to be led upon his twisted road…the opportunity that the young Lindsay had inadvertently provided him with idle chit-chat was becoming all that more invaluable. For now, though, he lifted one of the cups of tea and smirked at his injured company.

The bitter texture of the bland tea fazed Kenneth little. No, his focus was on the two outside. The two savages ready to paint the land red…

WORDS: 856
SONG: Horizon to Zenith - The Human Abstract
NOTES: -cough- Claus said I could come and play... >.>
CREDITS: Format made by ZULU of ON THE EDGE!

[/blockquote]

[KLIEN LIVESSAY]

The belittling statement had earned him a slap, a quick and ferocious reflex that had her wishing her nails were longer, but it seemed not to phase the Ravage. In fact, he seemed to like it and the depths of Klien screamed out in unrestrained hatred for giving him what he wanted. She was in charge, not this fang-faced mongrel. He should have been bowing down to her and showering her with pleas for his life, not stealing glances down at her chest hidden aptly beneath the lapel's of her noble's castoff jacket. The last thing she would ever give a man was a completely free show, though try as she might, she couldn't stop them from fantasizing.

She refused --swore inwardly not to rise to any more of his baits and held her silence, though she did sneer, when he questioned after Yolkie. The hit in the nearby house was hers, she's already made that explicitly clear. Axe seemed to have remembered, but along with his flash of memory came retaliation. Klien skirted the punch each enough, but only because he wasn't really trying. She followed his prowling with a viper's eyes as he circled.

"What? Are we going to race to him?" A wild light, similar to what Yolkie had seen in Ken's eyes, gleamed in Klien's eyes. "Or is it a fight to the death?" A smile just as feral pulled at her snarl of a frown and she lowered her stance to show she wasn't about to stand and take it quietly. Her hand inched for her waist... "Even a woman can squish a bug." But instead of charging, Klien pulled her revolver from it's holster and aimed for the center of the flea-ridden pest before her. She didn't have time to play his two-bit games.

The shot shattered the tension in the air, quite literally. As Ken grappled with Yolkie inside the shack, Klien rushed after her bullet with the intention of cracking Axe over the head with the grip in the aftermath. Or at least to get him to move out of the way as she darted for the porch. If she could get the empty house behind her, she'd have better chances of holding Axe off...

tags: axe [kai!] & ken [dim!]
word count: 377
notes: indeed i did invite dim to play around with us! kai, read my PM before replying!
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