Thread: Empire - City of Lost Cause (Black_Out and meomeo)

... three! Speaking of which, where is your hammer? Let's dance. The bluff failed spectacularly. Before Vallie had time to get in another word, the ends of the red scarf sliced through the space between her and Vagabond with a whirring siren, moving so fast they blurred into a reddish mass. Terror seized Vallie, rooting her feet to the platform, and for a split second she was certain her reaction would come too late. Primal survival instinct took over at the last possible moment. With a feline litheness that came from years of training in athletics and bodybuilding, the blonde sprang sideways, evading the first whip aimed for her. She did a half barrel roll in the air and landed on one knee. Her graceful maneuver brought out a few cheers from the onlooking crowd... although on Vallie's part there was no reason to celebrate. That was literally a close shave the slipstream of the weapon's flight singed her skin. She could only imagine how much it would hurt to be hit... It turned out there was no need to imagine. She had only dodged the first whip, but not its twin. By the time she saw the other red mass right in front of her face, she was beyond saving. It slammed into her chest, and Vallie experienced impossible, excruciating pain - as if an explosion was set off inside the chest. Her body was thrown into the air like a ragdoll, flipped over twice as it travelled in an arc before landing on the train tracks. The side of her head smashed into one of the rails, producing a sickening crunch. The cheers turned abruptly into gasps. Pain wrecked Vallie's brain, while a terrifyingly numb chill spread inwards from her fingers and feet to her limbs. Now that Vallie laid on the tracks she found her Hammer under the train near one of its stationary wheels, no more than five feet from where her body lay defeated. What a cruel twist of fate! Mustering all her remaining strength, she stretched her left arm towards it. But before she managed... her eyesight became blurry, then faded into pitch darkness. A chorus of screams and gasps erupted around Allison Weaver . People backed away from the train windows, scrambling to get as far away as possible from the victorious Vagabond. The limp, unconscious body of heroine, called Hammer Time, laid just below the window where Allison filmed from. Allison's fingers trembled, almost losing their grip on the phone. The thick crimson blood gushing out of Hammer Time's head wound was a sickening sight. Now Allison wasn't your stereotypical intrepid and headstrong young reporter ready to risk life and limb for a story. After all, she was just a political correspondent - ninety percent of her job was shoving a mircrophone into a politician's face in search for a soundbite - for which her editor hoped her pretty face and youthful smile comes in handy. She had never covered any hero-villain fights or police chases - or anything of this kind for that matter. She had half a mind to turn tail and run like the rest of them. But seeing Hammer Time half-dead and vulnerable, left to Vagabond's mercy... Allison couldn't live with herself if she did nothing. Before she could change her mind, Allison hurdled over the broken window and dropped down onto the train tracks below her heels landing on the uneven gravel almost caused her ankle to sprain. She lifted the heavy Hammer and dragged it across until it nested in the heroine's open palm. At once the passed out woman began to stir, and the bloodflow from her wound seemed to slow. Allison checked Hammer Time's prone body for any other wounds, glad that her search came up empty. Although with a blush she saw the heroine's lower body was lewdly exposed - for some reason she had haphazardly used a scarf as a makeshift loincloth which had came loose during the struggle. Allison quickly took off her navy-colored blazer and laid it over the heroine's nakedness. She heard the crunch of gravel and at once was afraid Vagabond was closing in for the finishing blow. But it turned out a middle-aged businessman who had been on the tracks was now ambling over to the pair of woman. Mark...? Whaddya doin'... What happened? came the disoriented, mumbled voice of Hammer Time as she struggled to sit up, one half of her face clotted with bloodstains.