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Post by Genevieve Linton on Jun 23, 2011 22:15:45 GMT
For all the chasers' speed, Genny had been too quick, securely jamming her manacled hands, which they had thrust behind her, through the gaps in the ornate framework that formed the back of her chair and clutching on to the stout mahogany with a grip of iron - one that held fast as she was dragged forward, thus pulling the seat along with her. She paid the cruel blows that rained upon her face scant heed, knowing that she would soon return the favor in spades. The new arrival's abrupt appearance, which Bramsfield received with an irritated pause, provided her the perfect opportunity to unleash her surprise.
"Better well done than well said," Genny snarled in reply before the inhuman strength welling up within her body burst its banks. A sharp backward kick against the floor wrested herself out of her captors' grips; the next second saw her swinging her arms and, by extension, the heavy chair, around in a vicious arc. A shriek, equaling that of the most savage banshees where it did not surpass, flew forth from her throat as her paroxysm of unbridled rage hurtled towards its zenith, building to a fever pitch as wood impacted against bone with a sickening crack.
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Post by Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield on Jun 23, 2011 22:25:11 GMT
Doctor Bramsfield screeched as the wooden chair made contact with his skull and his outstretched arms, shattering the bone in his left arm and effectively concussing him, if not fracturing the majority of the frail bones it blasted against.
He stumbled back a step, staring wide-eyed like a poor doe shot in the forest, wobbling back and forth with all the steadiness of a drunk on a ship in a hurricane. Within seconds, he dropped like a cloth. His legs gave way beneath him and he crumpled, Genny's blow knocking him into oblivion with quite an effective concussion.
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Post by Wynter Willow on Jun 23, 2011 23:28:02 GMT
Wynter screamed almost getting hit with the chair herself, she knealed down next to him, "master?! are you okay darling?" she spoke quickly with worry on her face quickly turning to anger as she stood up to face the inmate. She had stepped over the line by doing this.
"What the hell did you think would happen by doing that," she screamed at the inmate, standing just inches from the still cuffed girl. "Oh, dear girl, if you thought he was bad then you have no idea," she said eyeing the girl viciously and running her hand through the girls hair with a mischevious smile that even made bramsfields personal chasers step back.
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Post by Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield on Jun 23, 2011 23:34:55 GMT
Doctor Bramsfield lie there, crumpled up pathetically with his freshly broken arm curled lamely against his chest, his radius, ulna, and wrist shattered into fragmented pieces by the violent impact. The destructive break in his entire forearm left it completely useless, let alone capable of any kind of movement now.
His breath came in short, shallow gasps as he remained in his unconscious state, the vision behind his eyelids a starry white as blood dripped viscously from a deep gash along his temple and trickled down across his eyes and over the bridge of his nose.
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Post by Genevieve Linton on Jun 24, 2011 6:55:12 GMT
Recoiling sharply from Wynter's touch, Genny started forward once more in a heartbeat, eyes ablaze and teeth bared, poised to snap at the older girl's fingers. "What did I think would happen?" she spat, voice steadily rising. "What the hell did I think would happen?!"
It was at this point that tendrils of blackness began to creep into Genny's vision from its peripheries - an inky tide that slowly but surely obscured all detail, bringing with it an overwhelming sense of lethargy that permeated her every bone, muscle and sinew. Her menacing advance faltered, the murderous rictus contorting her face melting away into a blanched, wide-eyed blend of shock and anguish, then a swiftly-wilting expression of intense fatigue.
"Precisely... precisely what... you see... now," she concluded on a progressively weakening note, tottering backwards and collapsing into her chair, eyes flickering shut and limbs falling limp - a wayward clockwork doll that had run the course of its winding.
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Post by Wynter Willow on Jun 24, 2011 7:16:23 GMT
Wynter watched in amazement as the inmare seemed to almost unwind as if someone forgot to wind her up again. "Well then..." she said turning away from the girl to her master. "Master what shall the chaser do with the inmate?" She was intrigued by this inmate, she was agressive but seemed out of place somehow. Maybe this one truelly was crazy.
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Post by Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield on Jun 24, 2011 20:02:44 GMT
The Doctor did not respond, only gasping limply as his body convulsed and contorted with agonizing pain. His mind danced on the edge of consciousness as his eyes saw only black, and his pounding ears could just barely hear the voice of his precious Wynter.
But he could not respond... his brain was screaming out between waves of unconsciousness. He couldn't move, he couldn't think, he couldn't breathe....
"Get her...out of here..." he growled pathetically as one final breath wheezed through his lungs and he slipped into black, black sleep.
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Post by Genevieve Linton on Jun 25, 2011 12:16:36 GMT
Strong arms roughly hauled the semi-conscious Genny to her feet, their brutish motions (including a forceful and wholly intentional shoving of her spent form against the hard edge of Bramsfield's desk) reflecting the chasers' desperation to remedy their gross underestimation of her capabilities. She scarcely felt the blow, however, and neither did she register the scraping of her knees against the floor as they dragged her away. All she knew was a wordless, melodious voice piercing her fading consciousness, whispering soothingly as the shadow's influence left her and she went out like a light. What it was, she craved to know, and she hoped to high Heaven that nobody would tell her it had to leave.
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Post by Dr. Edward Gideon Bramsfield on Jun 25, 2011 17:10:29 GMT
(OOC: I think we should continue this in a new thread ;D)
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