Description: Sylvie needs Shr1ke! As frightening as Shr1ke may be, Sylvie doesn't seem to be frightened by the woman's outer looks! For some reason, Shr1ke may be more frightened by Sylvie's inner person! All over some muggers beging mugged! Friendship!?
The Park is a nice place to relax. It's far less of course at night. Minus so when there's a threat that is currently plaguing the good people of Southtown. Gears. Monsters. Demons. All sorts of issues crossing the good people of Southtown for daring to just be taken hostage by some sort of RAMPAGING DICTATOR that prevented anyone from leaving while a Gear threatened to nuke the city. Such good times had recently befallen the good people of Southtown!
Honestly Sylvie doesn't give a damn about those people.
"Hey HEY!~ You want my purse?" Sylvie exclaims, cheerfully, to a group of would-be muggers. "Hehehe, you're so funny you know~! Sylvie wishes she has more money - it's kinda hard to - " The larger mugger grasps for the purse, "SHUT THE HELL UP AN-" Electricity arcs upwards and outwards in the park, a bright, momentarily spark that can be seen from those around the Park and definitely those inside. Sylvie, cheerful as ever, giggles, "Stupid bastard, it's mine~! Go to hell." The 'cute' NESTS failure exclaims as she pushes the larger Mugger backwards, who may be more than momentarily stunned. Totally on purpose, of course, "Warning, super-boss Sylvie is here to kick your buns! So you better run...s!" She sing-songs, as the muggers run off.
Sylvie, of course, then happily loots the hell out of the mugger - picking his pockets and pocketing anything worth a damn to pawn later. "Ohhh, this was pretty good. Sylvie's super Paula pumped that she got cash! Mmmm, I'm going to have a breakfast buffet in the morning!" She cheerfully notes to herself, foot swinging back as she KICKS the muggers rear as hard as she can, the girl flipping head over heels as she does it - before landing once more. "Laaaaaame."
There are a lot of things that people notice about Shr1ke. There's all the blades, of course. There's just how tall the monster is. There's those bright red eyes, almost seeming to glow with an inner fire. All of those things tend to stick in the mind rather.
What people tend to notice rather less, at least consciously, is just how quiet she is.
All of a sudden, the tall creature is just, there. All six feet of bladed menace standing to observe the result of the failed mugging. This was not exactly what Shr1ke had expected. Muggers in the park were nothing new; neither were monsters. Both were threats which she was well-suited to dealing with.
But to see the 'victim' treat the criminals so roughly is, not what she had been prepared for. Then again, compared to what she would have done, it... was probably still relatively merciful. Just how much electricity had Sylvie used, anyway?
Shr1ke steps forwards at about the same time that Sylvie is hitting the ground again. One long, long limb reaches out to snare the man before he can crash into the ground again. Bladed fingers pierce his jacket, though not the skin beneath, and he is easily lifted to her shoulder.
"I will take them to the police."
The voice is a rasp. Throaty, oddly metallic, utterly what one would expect the creature to sound like.
There's no satisfying thump. Did she kick him THAT hard? If so, GOOD! "HEY! Where are ya' getting off too, anyways? Sylvie's not DONE with - WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!" The multi-eyed menace raises both arms - feet spreading out wide as she recoils with an audible gasp - after the loud as hell what, after all! A giant monster of blades, of scary eyes, of height and possibly weight! It's f-r-i-g-h-t-e-n-ING. "Oh no, surprised, Paula's put in a predicament!" She self narrates, tilting her head back and forth, staring at the being as it declares that she will 'take them to the police'.
"Ooooh, you wanna take THEM to police, not Paula! Well, okay then~!" Sylvie exclaims, "I wanna kick him some more though! He's real kickable, and he won't even fight back! He's stunned juuuuust enough so he'll feel it, but he won't be able to lift a finger, hehehe. THAT'LL teach him!" The nightmare of eyes pulls back a bit, swinging her foot backwards to put added emphasis, swinging it out of range to show Shr1ke, before twirling around once and giving a peace sign!
".. But who're you? I didn't sense you at all! I'm pretty sharp you know, most of these eyes are watching all around!" 'Most' - the four main eyes on her head and feet, the obvious two on her face. Are they ... are any other real? Her head shakes back and forth as she rocks. "That's not a cute voice though. I'm Sylvie! Super cute and adorable! If I had a hero name, it'd be 'I can't stop twinkling~!' I think yours would be .. Terminator!"
The discussion really isn't getting anywhere.
Shr1ke makes sure to keep the unfortunate mugger back out of reach of Sylvie's swinging foot. She had thought that the eyes were some sort of fashion statement. Kids these days are wearing all sorts of things she thinks are proposterous; maybe eyeballs were the latest thing for all the cool kids? But, now she's wondering if they are actually functional. She is hardly in a position to judge about such things.
The word is a rasp, and she cocks her head to the side. If the mugger has any common sense, he's going to be pretending to be unconscious for a while, especially as she reaches down and scoops up the second, depositing him on top of the first, still balancing both on her shoulder.
"You should be careful." The bladed creature advises, "These ones are weak, but there is danger in this place. Sylvie."
There's something strange in Shr1ke's voice as she speaks. Sylvie might be babbling a little bit, but she also doesn't look like she's about to run screaming, and in fact she seems - relatively speaking - unperturbed.
"... and I don't like the name Terminator."
That, added as an addendum. Because, that's, something she can say to keep the conversation going, right? That's how speaking to people works?
Sylvie's foot misses, perhaps intentionally, but mostly becuase Shr1ke has no interest in holding up the punching bag while Sylvie /lays into/ the mugger. A super shame.
"Shrike, huh? Okay, well, that's like minus thirty cute points. You look like you're a pincushion turned inside out!" Sylvie helpfully declares, with no regard to how she/he/it feels. A shame. Maybe Sylvie would have ACTUAL FRIENDS if she did. With the notification from Shr1ke, telling Sylvie to be careful, her eyes narrow a bit. The name isn't even liked!?
"Okay Termi, whateeeever." Is Sylvie's response, brushing off what she wants with what SYLVIE wants, or wants to call Shr1ke. "Also Sylvie is SUPER powerful, you know. She was in NESTS and everything! Now they totally want her back because she is so much of a NOT failure!" She declares, hands on her hips as she wiggles them, nodding her head. "Infaaaact, Sylvie thinks /you/ should be more carefuly, Termy." The NESTS reject exclaims, "Cause Sylvie MIGHT totally be taking money for whatever she does! Like from the m- oh there's a second! PAYDAY!" Sylvie exclaims, digging around in the second muggers pockets for any free money that she didn't already steal.
"Bi bi biiii~ more for me!~" She giggles and sing-songs.
Sylvie's words cut. Deeply. It isn't as though it is possible for Shr1ke to forget what she looks like, but the cheerfully-delivered insult eviscerates the woman in a way that no weapon could. Shr1ke staggers back a pace, talons curling to rend the soil with a disgusting, wet noise.
The rest of the girl's words are heard through a haze. It feels as though she is far away from herself, looking at herself from the outside, and seeing the nightmare of steel and pain that she has become.
"You... NESTs..." The name seems like it should mean something. It, hurts? How could a nest hurt? A nest is home to a bird; it is a safe space, it isn't something to be afraid of. And yet. And yet...
The tall figure shakes her head, as though trying to dislodge something. One hand comes up, and rubs at the side of her face. Metal grinds against metal. The mugger remains, blessedly unconscious, balanced precariously on the monstrosity's shoulder.
"You're, robbing these people." Shr1ke points out, mildly. Focusing back on the moment, the reality, rather than the strange sense of disassociation now threatening to overwhelm her. "Why? Do you, need, the money?"
She doesn't really care. They are muggers. Taking their money has a poetic form of justice to it. But, right now, she feels off-balance. It is not something she likes. Perhaps, more conversation will help steady her... though, so far, nearly every word spoken by the eyeball-laden girl seems to have had the opposite effect.
The grin from Sylvie, cheerful and menacing, is as normal as a bird flying. Broken and beaten, this is what she has become. Nothing special. Nothing notable. A nobody - even NESTS rejected her. BUT NOW...
"Hehehehe... You Tremy, Me Sylvie!" She exclaims, waving, "Helloooooo~! You still here?" She asks, before Shr1ke comes back to her senses. Metal to metal - and Sylvie still picks through pockets. "Uh, yeah? I beat them up after they tried to take my stuff!" The woman remarks, shoving more items into her little pack/bag. "Finders keeps, losers weepers~! They lost, I won! Sooo I guess they'll have to cry about it and remember not to pick on seemingly helpless people!" Sylvie doesn't even look back as she reasons her selfish way into their pockets.
"Hell, it's not like they HAD all that much. It'll be nice to splurge not on my budget though~! Oh? Well, usually I just enter tournaments or do work, but I joined a Circus for promotions for King Of Fighters! ... Uhm, now I'm still there but y'know~. Business is tough~." It's a front, anyways - Sylvie does stuff, and the circus (NESTS) tell her this or that. "I tried that Strolheim thing but that ass nearly punched my stomach inside out! Who does he think he is! I'm TOTALLY a refined fighter! I nearly got him TOO!" She grrs, electricity sparking from her a bit.
Then she smiles brightly once more, "Hehehe, not that it matters~!" Oh, how 'cheery'.
Shr1ke can't really argue that the muggers should keep their belongings. There is a valuable lesson to be learned here, and whilst she kind of thinks that the beating alone will probably do most of it... there is a bit of a sting to losing your money to such an 'innocent' girl.
Even if she's starting to get the idea that this girl is not nearly as innocent as her bizarre appearance would imply.
"Please stop calling me that. My name is Shrike."
Well, actually, it is Shr1ke, but pronouncing the one in the middle is a challenge she hasn't quite cracked yet.
The sparking electricity showcases the nightmare angles formed by jutting blades, the crackle-spit reflecting across sharp edges until it dies down, burning briefly in the red glow of her eyes.
"I have heard of Strolheim." She rumbles, at last. "They are... elite. I do not believe I am currently up to their standards. But, perhaps one day..." There's a languid shrug, sending the mugger on her shoulder jostling around for a moment, though never quite close to falling off. "... We shall see what the future holds. Perhaps, if you are a fighter, our paths will cross again."
"Oh geeze, Shrek, relaaaaax." Sylvie answers, rolling her eyes, "I'll call you what I wanna, you know?" The 'innocent' Sylvie Paula Paula exclaims, getting up and pressing her hands against her hips. Nightmare angles are very much visible, and Sylvie does get quite the look at them. "Mmm, y'know Shrike, you could TOTALLY be cuter if you added a ribbon or two on the ends of those sharp things!" She exclaims, her own hair randomly hit with ribbons and bows here and there.
"Yeah? Well I ALMOST qualified! 'Course, I guess he said I was a 'waste of power' and 'raw energy and no skill', but he's totally full of it! ... If I AM a fighter!?" Sylvie gasps and huffs a little, "Well, if I'm not a fighter, you're a grand-ma!" Sylvie proclaims - as undignified as it can be! "Thanks for cleaning up the trash though, but who even cares what happens to them~." Sylvie smiles once more as she winks and twirls once.
Sylvie would begin to stride off as well, however - over emphasized movements with limbs swinging wide for no discernable reason.
The reference goes completely over Shr1ke's head, which is impressive given the height. The comment about ribbons just gets that same blank, unblinking stare. She's not sure if Sylvie is clueless, mocking her, or both. She suspects both, but then, well, the strange girl is flouncing off and leaving Shr1ke all alone.
"... You're welcome ..."
The words are a mechanical burr; a harsh buzz, but, they are also heartfelt. As deeply unpleasant as the interaction had been, that was - she now realised - the longest conversation she could remember having with anyone which was not related to signing up to a fighting tournament. Perhaps, she reflected, as Sylvie strode off across the park, the very fact that the girl was willing to have a conversation should be some sort of red flag.
Just who IS she? And what is this NESTs that she works with?
Why does that name make her skin crawl?
Questions to worry about for another time, perhaps. For now, Shr1ke finished off the trash collection she had been tasked with; carefully spearing the muggers and hefting them up (in painless ways, of course, no further harm necessary) in order to take them back to the police, just as she'd promised.
Log created on 14:55:18 01/20/2018 by Sylvie, and last modified on 19:06:49 01/20/2018.