Soundless Imaginings | One-Shots

Author in Peril

Based on PokemonRio's action-y excerpt, I thought I'd put my own spin on the first encounter with our alternate selves~

I stared at the passing clouds. Unmoving, unblinking. Just staring. Irritably watching my vision swim in and out of focus, mumbling a fit of curses beneath my breath. I'd fallen asleep wearing my contacts again, hadn't I? Dry and irritated, my eyes felt brittle enough to shatter under the slightest duress. And I was pissed.

More important, though, was the fact that I didn't recognize the sky above me. Not that I was any sort of expert when it came to mapping out the skies, but I thought -- no I was sure my last memory took place in my living room, with the drab white ceiling overhead and the quiet hum of the fan permeating the silence whenever their was a break in my music. I'd been writing, putting together the final pieces of a certain assassin's backstory, then...

Nothing.

What the hell happened?

Rolling onto my stomach, I winced; sharp bits of gravel stuck plainly to the bare skin of the back of my arms and legs, additionally pricking at my front now that I'd turned over. This sucked. Everything sucked. And that became strikingly apparent when, just as I was pushing myself to my knees, something rocketed into my gut, flipping me completely onto my back and driving the breath from my lungs as well as urging the contents of my stomach into my throat.

A low, guttural grown pressed at my lips, but I clamped my mouth shut, afraid more than just the pitiful whimper would escape if I allowed anything to exit. My stomach throbbed with pain, and as I curled in on myself, vainly seeking comfort, I caught a glimpse of who'd delivered said pain.

A girl stood off to my right, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, lips drawn in a catty sneer. Through the tears flooding my eyes, she looked fuzzy and indistinct, rounded out at the edges, but I saw enough to understand. She was fairly tall, above average at the least, with her dark brown hair loose about her shoulders, green eyes glinting in the sunlight like chrome.

Oh this reeeeaaallllly sucks now...

"This is it?" she sniffed, circling me now, clicking her tongue as I swallowed down my budding nausea and rocked back onto my heels. "This is me? What kinda crap is this? One kick. One. And you're down." Her teeth flashed in a grim smile. "Lovely. I've got a pathetic side as well."

"Hey, it's... been a while... since I did any sports, ya know?"

Okay. Yeah. Pathetic was fitting.

"Oh, really? Is that it? So if you'd continued with soccer and softball and basketball or whatever, you'd have been able to dodge this?"

Answer: Most definitely not.

I never saw her move, but next thing I knew, my back was cracking against the wall of a brick building and I was seeing stars (a phenomenon I hadn't actually thought to exist until now) while I gasped with all the grace of a dying fish to reclaim the breath she'd once again stolen from me.

"I can't believe this. How are you this awful? Do you really just laze around all day on that damn laptop of yours?"

"No?"

"Liar," she spat.

"My phone's pretty tempting, too..."

She nearly threw her hands up in exasperation, but caught herself at the last moment and folded her arms under her chest. Staring down at me as though I were the remains of some bug she'd just scraped off the bottom of her Converse. My Converse, actually; they were the same Union Jack pattern as the ones I was currently wearing.

"God, am I really this... bitchy?"

And that was when she decided it was high-time she start throwing punches. Because, you know, just kicking gets a little boring after awhile.