Epic Disaster of Disatrous Proportions [OPEN/CHERYL]

Lenina skipped down the halls of the Apartment building, her mind a jumble of all kinds of words and phrases. There were moments when her brain just spazed out. Unable to settle on a single interesting aspect of something around her, and thus creating the feeling of boredom that she had now. She rubbed at the collar that wrapped around her neck, hating they way it chafed, scratched and strangled. It was just plain uncomfortable. She bobbed up and down, a look of utter stupidity on her face. She looked a bit slow, with that smile pasted on her face, mixed in with the thousand yard stare. Lenina she twirled her unusual blond hair that curled around her circular face. Quickly, she reached the end of the first hallway. She frowned, looking at the two doors side by side. 101 and 103. She had always liked the number 101, it seemed so nice and cool, but 103 was so much edgier. She actually kind of wanted the room, anything was better than the lofty, muggy, and burning third floor, in 305.

The girl spun in a circle, her short, frilled black skirt twirling around her. Her white and gray, chain gang shirt complimented this, the collar was the only thing out of place. She balled her hands into a fist, knocking on the door of 103, knocking the cool tune, "Shave and a Hair Cut". As she waited for the door to open, she continued spinning, her eyes rotating with her in a way that would make anyone grow dizzy if they looked at her. There was no real reason why she was doing this it just felt right to spin while waiting. It wasn't like she had anything better to do. Maybe it was the way her dress spun in an 'oh-so-elegant' way that she liked. Or was it the feeling of being almost topsy turvy, on the verge of collapsing. Suddenly, she stopped staring intently at the door, even though the world around her was heaving and hoing like a gigantic yacht on uncharted seas. Now she remembered why she had come to a stop at this door, there was someone here who was the talk of the apartments recently. Cheryl.

The emotionally confused one. That was how Lenina remembered her. The one that was pining for her precious 'Len'. She remembered the name with disgust. That stupid girl, losing her memory and becoming a servant of an even more annoying girl. Though, Lenina had never actually met Cheryl, she had only heard of her, and it wasn't much of a difference. Everyone had a different view of her, though he sort of already had an idea of what she was like. Now she just wanted to see her for herself. She wasn't actually looking for an enemy, but that could be possible. And so this was why she had arrived at this door, waiting for this mystery girl to appear.

The French girl was lying on her bed, writing in a notebook. A big box filled with too many pencils to count and ten sharpeners laid next to her. But what she was writing would probably not able to be read by the other humans, who the majority of spoke English. All that was contained in that notebook was in French, her own native language. It’s not like it was a diary, well really it kind of was. But there wasn’t any secrets of hers in there. For she was writing a book in that notebook along the two before it and later the five that were left. She would write until they were full, and even after then if she got more paper. Until she died it would continue. Since the spaceship flew off she had been writing about the events they went through. So it was the story of them. The last remaining humans. Though it would serve much use if no one else could read it. But if she decided to share it she would translate for them. But the likeliness of that happening was low.

Knocking on her door deterred her from her work. Her green eyes went to the one thing standing between her privacy and everyone's buisness. To answer it or not? Well she could finish her writing later. She took her time stowing it all away in her duffel bag. Such a ratty old thing. But it was reliable and the only sign of age was the faded color. Back to her visitor, though. She crossed the room and stood at the door. Though she had already put her stuff up she still didn’t feel like talking right then. Some excitement was needed though. Maybe something to spice up the dull area in the book. She unlocked the door and swung it open. Though she didn’t expect who was standing outside her door. Some human that didn’t look familiar. But there were still humans she didn’t see around here. Why bother with them if her hands were full with the ones she was already stuck with? She leaned up against her door frame and simply greeted, “Bonjour.”

"Groete!" replied, Lenina quickly, brushing past Cheryl as if she weren't even there. She quickly surveyed the room. It wasn't much. It looked basically the same as hers. She looked at Cheryl's side of the room, how it seemed to be littered with strange writing utensils. She frowned and looked at it. "How primitive." She shook her head, usually people would write in the alien planners. Pencils and paper were so absolute. What was she writing was the question, though it wouldn't be one for long. Lenina could figure it out in a little while after living with Cheryl long enough. Yep, that was right. Lenina wasn't here for no reason, she wanted the room, or at least part of it. Lenina turned her head and looked at the other bed. Strangely enough it was unoccupied by anything except a bed. "Perfect!" she said, rolling the r's along her tongue. In truth, it was not perfect, too boring. But Lenina could fix that fast. She was a whiz at wrecking things. Casually, she made a short leap and landed on the bed. She put both hands behind her head as she reclined on it. She crossed her left leg on top of her bent right and smiled. "This will do nicely."

She was obviously relaxed. And anyone that knew Lenina would know that she wasn't going to move without a fight anyway. What she wanted she got, no matter what. That was just the way she was, it didn't matter that the ones from Len's disappearance might still be fresh, even after a month, all that mattered was the fact that she had a new room. On the first floor. For her own nefarious purposes. The third floor was so boring and unpopulated, the only one there was Ikuto who stayed in his room most of the time. (Who knew what he did in there) And that freakish baby, Bianca. Though that baby paled in comparison to her own freakishness.

Cheryl may have been a blonde but that didn’t mean she was stupid. She could tell right away what the girl wanted. There was no way that she was taking Len’s bed. No. Freaking. Way. “That bed is Len’s, not yours,” she told the girl who’s name she didn’t even know. Usually she’d be calm but that was overstepping the boundaries. How much she was relaxing just screamed she planned on staying. She’d drag that girl out of her room by her hair if necessary. But she apparently was uniformed about Cheryl. This girl could fight and would fight. She loved fighting and was great at it. Could cause some damage if she tried. Really that was the excitement they all needed. A good catfight. A good, destructive, and totally epic catfight between skilled fighters with pain-causing abilities. What a perfect way to spend a day.

"Len's dead. Long dead." Lenina murmured in reply, closing her eyes, and slapping her hands together as if in prayer. She turned on her side, laying her hand on her closed hands as if she were sleeping. "No use letting a good bed go to waste." she yawned loudly. The girl seemed angry with her now for some reason. Lenina didn't understand at all why she even cared in the slightest. Then again, she had witnessed a strange girl barge into her room and take an empty bed without saying but a few words. This Cheryl... If it came to blows, Lenina knew the girls powers, though they were strange. She had heard talk of her 'manipulating' emotions. And other things. Whatever it was, it wouldn't make a difference, Lenina could put a knife in her before she even moved. But... She had had her knives confiscated when they landed on Sigma. All she had were her fists, and mind. But that was a dangerous weapon in itself.

“Len’s not dead, I know it,” Cherl said it so firmly you’d think Len would be standing in that room before them. But her sixth sense, though very dull, was still there. And just hearing the words made it act up. As if saying ‘I’m here! Don’t forget!’ And she wouldn’t. She’d never forget. Ever. “You have your own bed anyway,” she grumbled. Why did she need Len’s bed anyway? She didn’t care about why. All she wanted right then was for her to get off the bed. And if she didn’t get off soon. Well the dragging would commence. Simple as that. But it’s only simple in theory. For Cheryl wasn’t aware of what her and Lenina’s roleplayers had in mind.

"You must really miss that little bitch." said Lenina opening her eyes wide, a flat look on her face. Her tone wasn't an angry one, only her words would provoke someone. "The reason, I'm not in my right now, is because this one is better. If you don't want me here, you can have my room, because I'm staying." she said, sitting up on the dusty bed, and bouncing on it. It may not look like it, but she was getting ready for a fight. She knew Cheryl was at the breaking point, and Lenina had only made her angrier by insulting Len. Cheryl was a cannonball just waiting to be set off. And Lenina had already set the spark.

That girl just didn’t know how much that offset Cheryl. One of the biggest mistakes of her life. One of her hands was hidden behind her back. And held in it was a lethal weapon. A throwing knife of pain. She drew it out and threw it angrily at the girl. It spun rapidly in a circular motion through the air. But she didn’t actually aim for her. No the knife impaled itself in the wall right next to her head with a thump. “I’m not asking for you to leave, I’m demanding. And the next knife won’t miss your ugly face,” she threatened. Her hand was thrown down. Could the other girl’s compare, though? The stakes were high, for Cheryl’s pride was her bet along with Len’s bed. So she wasn’t going down without a fight, and we’re talking an all out fight. For the fuse had just ended and the cannonball had blown. It was time to bring the house down. Hard.

Lenina eyes went wide as the knife flew towards her, even though in the back of her mind she knew that Cheryl didn't have the heart to kill her, that or she didn't have the drive to. But as the knife faded away after embedding itself into the wall, Lenina still felt fear, an excruciating amount. But it was washed away by a new anger. Time for fighting, not for running. Gripping the sheets on the bed with one hand, she snapped forward, ripping the sheets from the bed and tossing them in the air. Disguising her assault completely. As she moved forward, she raised her right leg, bring her hands up near her chest so that she could throw all her weight into the first kick that was aimed for Cheryl's stomach, the sheet would drape over Cheryl unless she found away to stop it, and even if she did the first kick was perfectly timed with the throw of the white cloth. Her first kick was the first of many. Three more followed, at the same exact speed, kick, snap back, kick, snap back.

The fear in the girl’s--who’s name she still didn’t know--eyes made Cheryl slightly satisfied. She just didn’t know who she was messing with. But then she saw the anger. And the heat blasted. It’s not like she didn’t see the sheet coming. Seriously it was original but when sheets are thrown they’re very. . .slow. Wouldn’t doubt it if they went backwards onto her opponent. But that didn’t stop her from taking the step outside into the hall. There was no reason to ruin her room. Now that didn’t apply to anyone else’s rooms. She sidestepped to the side of the door. Now she’d have to come out and turn directions to hit her. But Cheryl wouldn’t give her that chance. Nope because as soon as the girl came out she’d get a punch to the head. Though unlike normal punches where’d you pull your first back she had something else in mind. Her fingers would grip a full hand of hair and yank her head down. Right into the path of the knee she’d thrust into the girl’s head. Talk about a headache.

Lenina, predictably, chased after the girl who fled out of the door way, gaining her footing back from her short lived spree of attacks. As she did, she felt hands grab at her hair. Her instant reaction was to reach for her hair, bad move. As the moment she did, a knee struck, she didn't have to touch to know that it could be bleeding, that much was obvious. But as the fighter she was, she reacted quickly, she gripped the girls leg, between her own legs. This normally would be easily to break free from, but Lenina was channeling her powers now. The moment her legs touched Cheryl's a shock of pain would fly through her. The pain reminiscent of that of a thousand jagged knives in the flesh of the afflicted area. Lenina would then twist, effortlessly, in a way that would most likely unbalance Cheryl, throwing her into a stumble. Should this be the result, a kick from Lenina's right leg would plant itself in Cheryl's chest, smashing her against the wall she had had her back too. Whether this made contact or not, Lenina would leap backward, rubbing at her nose that was bleeding from a single nostril. Her eyes were only slightly blurred with tears, but it wasn't the worse pain she had felt recently.

While Cheryl had caught the girl off guard, so did she. That must be her power, obviously. But what she had done might not have been the smartest move. Why? Well Cheryl herself had a high pain tolerance because of her power. Handling weapons of pain is going to get you hurt. She actually made sure to work up her pain tolerance. Break her arm? Ha, she’d say it tingles. Though the pain in her legs was a little more painful than that. Like that of a thousand jagged knives stabbing into her flesh. But there was another reason that doing it wasn’t the smartest idea. We’ve seen this with Game before, actually. Her emotions dropped onto him in a liquid form. Emotional overflow is what Cheryl calls it. And that also applies with pain. It’s also what formed her failsafe idea. So when the pain came a gray substance seemed to leek out of her skin and shot onto the other girl’s leg. Though Cheryl made sure to cause more pain than what she received. It’s not like her leg was hurting anymore, either, for she had channeled the pain back out and at her opponent. When the girl twirled there came a shove, accompanied by more manifested pain. If the other girl went down she’d jump on her and commence to beating her face in, but if not she’d just be ready for any other attack.

As the manifested pain began to leak out, Lenina was shocked, but not enough as to stop her strike mid way through. In fact, her kick went straight for Cheryl's face, the pain that she felt would be diverted like a current of electricity through wire, as was Lenina's power. Pain that went in, could come out through physical contact. And right now, Cheryl would be in ten times as more pain, than she was already. Of course, this disjointed strike would cause Lenina to stumble, but she knew she couldn't fall, it would only make her an easy target. Instead, she overbalanced, knocking her way into Apartment 105, a.k.a. Adailia's room. The girl was a witch, and extremely gender-confused. But the best part about her were that she was always the butt of the joke. But as Lenina barged in, it looked like this would be their new battle field for now. Instantly, she was scanning the room for projectiles. Angrying Adailia would just be collateral damage.

A kick to the face normally wouldn’t really do anything to Cheryl but not when it felt like all the pain she just threw at the other girl. Her nose was bleeding and might be broken, but she didn’t care. But all the pain was also channeling out of her through a gray steam. Her opponent stumbled into Apartment 105. Which was Kaira and Adailia’s room. That just fueled the fight right there. The rest of her pain, and then some, was thrust into the room, but in a thickened cloud. That was how you masked an attack. She dove inside the room and looked for something of the residents’ to break. There sat five CDs that must have been Adailia’s. Perfect. She snatched them up and had one ready to go when she dispersed the gray cloud. She spotted the other girl right away and launched immediately. One by one, in a quick succession, the CDs went flying through the air like round ninja stars. But those were just a diversion from the real threat. Cheryl jumped back out into the hall and tossed something of her own creation in there. A bomb of pain. She closed the door and took a few steps away. She didn’t want the door blowing off and slamming into her. It could happen, seeing as the more pain caused to Cheryl the stronger her pain manifests got to be. And that bomb didn’t have a long fuse, actually the fuse on it was really short. And it was unable to become unlit.

Lenina danced through Adailia's room, dodging plastic CD's that simply broke against the wall behind her. Her agility came from a natural talent for kickboxing, which was fairly useful considering her whole life recently had something to do with fighting. Not that she complained. She loved the adrenaline, the rush, the power she felt. It made her feel less weak and human. And more sentient. But when she realized that the CD's were only a distraction so that Cheryl could manifest... What looked like a bomb, she was shocked. Cheryl must really be aggravated if she was willing to actually kill her. But then she realized something, with Cheryl's power she could manifest solid objects from emotions, the last time she had seen that gray stuff it had been pain. Was this a bomb of pain? How simplistic, but it was no problem for Lenina. She raced towards it, if Cheryl wanted to fight fire with fire, that's what she would get. Lenina lifted the bomb with ease, letting her fingers sift through it absorbing the pain that flared through her like a fire hunting for a way to survive. It was only a moment that Lenina felt the stinging pain, because almost immediately she launched herself through the door of Adailia's room.

It had opened so suddenly that she was unprepared for it. She had expected to have to ram the door, but instead, she stumbled forward at top speed. Pulling back her fist to nail Cheryl in the face, with all of the pain she had recently absorbed exploding outward in a eruption of gray matter.

Fist met flesh, backed up with the pain and explosiveness of a bomb. Cheryl’s body flew backwards, hitting the ground with a nasty thud and rolling until friction stopped her. There she lay motionless, her face in the ground. Blood trickled down the cheek the other girl had punched. It looked like she was dead, and if her opponent hadn’t used her own power against her she would have been. Getting that kind of pain and power punched into your face just can do that. But she was on the verge of slipping out of consciousness. It would have been better for everyone if she had been. No one could predict what was going to happen. A single streak of manifested pain leaked out, floating up into the air. Though it wasn’t just gray. There was three other colors mixed with it. Deep red, bright red, and the blackest of black. Destruction, anger, and evil.

The girl lying on the ground was a time bomb ticking. This wouldn’t have happened if it had been her own power used against her. That’s what made it stage two. Stage one was Cher Bear, but this was the stage before her failsafe. Another streak of the four colors manifested. Then more and more followed it. It seemed to leak out of her body, some even latching onto her skin. Cheryl slowly started to get up and tendrils of it wrapped around her body. It coated her blonde hair completely in the array of colors. About two-thirds of her body had been covered up now, with even more of the stuff whipping around her body angrily. It whispered to her to kill the girl in front of her. To wipe her from existence. A streak ran across her face, crossing her nose, and stopping halfway across the other cheek.

Cheryl’s hands raised up, both pointing them both straight at the girl. The manifested mix eagerly swarmed to her hands, ready to do the master’s bidding. But at the last second she moved her hands, pointing them at the side of the hallway. The mix still struck with lightning speed, plowing into the walls. All that plowed the walls down and tore through the two rooms behind it, 105 and 107. Everything it touched got obliterated. Those four manifested things together did that. Though it did dissipate before shooting onto the street and killing the aliens who had been walking around. One alien had been too close and fell victim to the mix. He was gone, apart from one blood splatter on the ground.

Streaks of the mix floated away from the main swirling cloud, going away. Slowly the cloud was taken apart and the streaks on her body seemed to melt into her body. She locked her green eyes onto the girl in front of her. She had spared her with the tiniest bit of humanity Cheryl had left in her life. But that kind of strain on her was too much to continue a fight. Her consciousness ran away and she couldn’t hold herself up. Gravity dropped her back to the ground without any remorse. Her pigtails were splayed out, blonde once more. But the tips of her hair seemed to occasionally have a black streak in them. But that was a small price to pay for that power. At least it hadn’t been stage three.