It's like lightning in a jar (r)

[TAKANO KAGENUI]

THE TRUTH COMES OUT IN THE BREAKDOWNS
( • M E M O R I E S M Y G O D T H E S E M E M O R I E S • )

The only noise that rose above the drone of drunken slurs and glasses clinking was the music, pulsating like a sick and twisted heart as quiet words sublimated sexual desire with the alternative provided in the dark room to the rhythm of heartbeats. The air was thin and laced with carcinogenics and stage smoke, barely circulating anything more than a disgusting air of fruity drinks and the distinct smell of cheap men and women. Kagenui felt at home amidst it all, sidling up to the sea of nameless bodies and expressionless faces, drink in hand for another long night. Or at least, that had been the original plan, the dark little fantasy bubbling insistently in the back of his mind as he watched, no, baby-sat a drunken friend have all the fun for him, leaning his chair off two of its legs as the thought went about whimpering for his attention, playing tricks on his judgment.

But who’s fault was that? Oh yes, it was Ume’s. Ume, Ume, Ume, Ume. That name made him seethe right now, made him trouble the delicate wine glass at his side because far behind the harlequin’s smile and the half-dazed eyes was something that bespoke an insatiable, heady desire to throw it at her head. And make no mistake, if Kagenui thought for even a second that this infuriating woman’s skin wouldn’t become semi-permeable to absorb it through osmosis, the music would have been drowned out by the sound of shattering glass against a backdrop of tearing flesh and cracking bone. “Uuuuume-chan~.” The little slip of tongue seemed agreeable and even inviting in the right company now, sounding not quite manipulative to the ear, and yet despite the friendliness of word or tone, some wouldn’t have found themselves comforted or validated by this the words spilling easily from his wickedly charming fangs. This was her first warning. He lingered on her name, purred the word that she wouldn’t suspect how close he was to seriously injuring her if she didn’t come, and added a come-hither gesture that she should have been well acquainted with by now.

How did this happen again?

Pride burned a small smirk, wicked and infected with an almost cloying amusement, into his expression. Perhaps it had been a little…cruel to sell such defaming pictures, perhaps a tad sadistic even. But really, it had made him feel better, for the few moments in which he had been properly avenged and not at the mercy of the young woman’s sobbing chicanery. The sentiment didn’t make him feel any greater about the current situation, however; the current situation still had him stuck watching Ume stagger about, ordering drink after drink using his money. Oh how he hated her crocodile tears, despised them on level with that of his dear sister. And now she had the nerve to worm her way through the crowd and out of his sight, screaming like the drunken banshee she was.

Wait.

Where was she going?

“Dammit Ume, I swear, if you make me drag you out of one more white van, I’m going to kill you.” Slinking out of his seat like a land-eel, Kagenui followed after her, pushing past idle barflies with a resurgence of that much more pleasant desire to simply leave Ume to her fate. Hesitation picked at his movements and his steps slowed considerably, languid and growingly aimless; it took only a few moments to have lost track of Ume’s whereabouts. “Uuuumeee. Where did you go?” It would have been sweet, a child's whining endearment, if not for the heavy implications behind it. Hoshi would kill him if he lost her twice.

Hell hath no fury like a woman pissed off.

THEY DON'T MEAN ANYTHING OH THOSE MEMORIES
( • A S Y O U S P O K E Y O U R F O R K E D T O N G U E S H O W E D • )

W O R D S • 622.
T A G G E D • Ume
L Y R I C S • memories by lion if ido
T E M P L A T E • PANIC! ITS LAUZ of CAUTION
N O T E S • Shortish? 8I Idk, Mac still loves me, right?

[KO UME]

let's pretend we don't exist. let's pretend we're in antarctica. let's pretend we don't exist.
let's have bizarre celebrations

Everything was a moving, glowing blur. Sparkles danced beneath her eyelids when she closed them, the pulse of her blood cutting jagged lines of primary colors on the skin. Open, and the room blinked and shined in a momentary flash of acute detail, every inch visible to her prying eyes but it ended so quickly that when she settled again she did not recall what she had seen. The dim lighting and pour of smoke had left her nearly blind, the colors beneath her lids dancing in the real world alongside the liver-spotted hands of the old men and the distinguish grey tints of women. Carelessly her eyes wandered the room, everything peripheral drained. Tunnel vision had settled in, as if she were driving down the more colorful strips of Tokyo as she sank into slumber. To look to the left, she had to completely turn her head and the same with the right. Again those sneaky lines danced where she couldn’t properly see them, causing her to whip around to try to sneak a peek. A slight stumble and she was on her feet, away from the bar stool that kept her near her guardian for the night. To catch those blinding lights could be the goal of a psycho or a drunk, and gladly she was only the latter. The smoke stung her eyes as she walked into a neighboring cloud, coughing briefly before stumbling on in pursuit.

Her name, dangling in the air for her to pounce on, was left unnoted as she pranced off to follow her sights. The colors danced, luring her with a sense of adventure and excitement. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” she murmured as though to respond to Kage’s call to her, the one that she paid no real mind to at all. Those lips moved only for one purpose, to catch those lights with her words. But like butterflies they dazzled and shined, but were evasive. Fluttering and flickering just out of her line of sight, a game if there ever was one. Some people moved from her way, wondering if it was possible that a girl could be so young looking and actually allowed inside. Her business was her business, however, so they allowed her to pass or got smashed into. Giddy with excitement, her voice rose to the ceiling and beyond as she screeched, “I’ve got you now!” However, she had gotten nothing and her lurch forward simply crashed her through the door of the women’s bathroom, leaving her sprawled like a fallen child on the ground.

Thin, pale limbs looked Edward Cullen white against the grimy floor. Her red hair caught the flickering over head lights, strands giving the impression of flames. The outfit she wore had ridden up on her body, the dark black dress revealing more thigh than should be allowed in any public place. Even her awkwardly placed birthmark was noticeable now, the crimson strand of blotches on her inner left thigh revealed midst her messy fall. There wasn’t any movement from her for a minute or so, a dazed comatose state retracting her from reality. The dazzling lights blinded her, twining with her paused fingers and floating up her bare arms, playing games with her. Her breath shuddered, released in sighs that didn’t resemble human lung contraction and loosening. A girl lost in the world of adults, lying on the bathroom floor without a clue of how to reassemble the pieces that had all dropped off when she had collided there.

Then her foot twitched. “Mm. Silly lights!” her voice was light, woozy, intoxicated. “You got away only now!” The fall had done absolutely nothing to sober her.

With the quickness of a fox, but lacking the general grace of one, she rose from her fallen position. Her limbs were tripping among each other, so it took some time before she was able to rise without tripping and falling back down. When she was once again at full height, she observed her surroundings with a sloppy grin. A bathroom, indeed. A bathroom with… her trail of thought never quite was completed, for just at that moment the seven shots of rum she had consumed hit her with a force unrecognizable. This time, the poor woman washing her hands in the rust-infested sink was to be the pillow. Her face, quite realistically, read “aww hell naww.”

[TAKANO KAGENUI]

THE TRUTH COMES OUT IN THE BREAKDOWNS
( • M E M O R I E S M Y G O D T H E S E M E M O R I E S • )

The smell of alcohol and dissonant perfume was stronger in the crowd than it is on the edge of it, the air in the thick of it was more like a noxious fog that suffocated. Kagenui choked on it, his lungs rejected all but the bitter taste of alcohol in the air and attempted to force it out again with small dry heaves between steps. His element seemed dangerous when he wasn’t a part of it, and there was a certain desperation bubbling up in the back of his mind to join it and alleviate how alienated he felt now. But thoughts of Ume—or rather, thoughts of what would come with not pinpointing her location soon—sent innumerable sharp paroxysms through his idling limbs, the sensation not quite adrenalin but most certainly a wake-up call amidst the seedy den he’d lied down in and prepared to remain in like a lecherous dog. He blinked back the dancing lights and the haze that still smelled and tasted of liquor and excitement. Red hair and a black slip remained the only thing he focused on in the room, briefly but never fully interrupted by thoughts of other combinations of faces and clothing and hair colors that meant nothing save a simple case of straying eyes and thoughts. These Kagenui pushed back as well, pushing blindly past the archives of people whose eyes followed flaming hair like his did.

But whereas the crowd subsided from Ume’s frenetic, hellbent march, both out of curiosity and out of self-preservation, their eyes followed his particular movements and gathered him to be what every other man in the establishment was—a predator on the proverbial prowl, stalking the young, drunk, and incompetent for purposes unbefitting the supposed innocents of society. Older men tipped their glasses and laughed that tipsy laugh while the women on their arms glared and clucked their forked tongues in a mix of disapproval and disgust. Kagenui ignored the former, but the latter poked and prodded and lectured him as passed by their rigid forms in search of Ume. A group even actively stood in his way, arms and expressions crossed as they harangued, prattled on and on about how deplorable he was for preying on such a young girl. Occasionally they mumbled amongst themselves about what they’d assume her age was before returning to him, the severity of their expressions changing little. Ergh.

He really didn’t understand how they could condemn him for this. Women always seemed so much more blatant about their moral destitution, parading about in nine-inch heels to please their black-tied dirty old men, slurring their words as they hid their scars below counterfeit smiles and scanty clothes; and then hissing their scorn as they continued their personal ventures into the hell on earth they created with their vice. They fed on the negativity they orchestrated, whistling empty words of their ersatz lives and those of their scions. But, their condescension was by far the most debasing thing about them; no, the way they stared and smiled between their contemptuous whispers, the way they pursed their lips and cooed like wanton vultures, was. Everything about the modern party-woman seemed so sordid, deviating into restless harlots as their bodies aged and decayed. But they always smiled the most flagitious of smiles, their hollow faces contorted in incondite emotion. Irritating. Irritating and wasting his time.

Exasperation soon became an overwhelming infuriation. And before he notice what he’d done the thin sheet of metal comprising one of the group’s drinks writhed within his tense grip, chinking like cracking bone beneath his fingers. “You’re in the way.” Such a response was characteristically idiosyncratic, cryptic in meaning, the true interpretation lost to a congregation of so little apparent intelligence, but with a timbre so comprehensibly virile that meaning had no contribution in explaining his point. And within moments of his short oration, he emptied the beverage’s contents upon the miserable woman’s head—an injury that he felt was well deserved by such an undeserved ego—can released to bounce from the sniveling girl’s head with a charming clunk.

Kagenui didn’t really wait to see what happened the woman’s piercing shriek rang out in his ears, pushing past her and her group as quickly as he could without tripping over himself or over those in the crowd. The goal was Ume and from the sound of the whispers flooding his ears in the area he’d aimlessly shoved himself into, some drunk girl had plowed into another in the bathroom—sounded like the girl he was looking for, to be honest. The only way to be sure was to check, which would involve him inveigling some poor girl into checking it out for him, describing red hair and a black dress and all but shoving her into the bathroom with concern written squarely on his face.

He didn’t exactly like the news he got back. Pouring out of the bathroom in question came here a massive ruckus; a bleeding spectrum of bright dresses and soundbites of harsh whispers and drunken slurs and clacking heels that rap-rap-rapped with such an unusual quality to it so as to gather every semi-conscious being in the room and concentrate them in a single area. From what he could gather, there was some girl underneath Ume who didn’t sound happy even in the description of her.

“UME, GET OUT HERE RIGHT NOW, HOSHI’S BLEEDING TO DEATH ON THE FLOOR.”

[/color] Yeah, it wasn’t an honest way to get her out, but even a drunk Ume could pick out the name “Hoshi” in a conversation.
[/justify][/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]

THEY DON'T MEAN ANYTHING OH THOSE MEMORIES
( • A S Y O U S P O K E Y O U R F O R K E D T O N G U E S H O W E D • )

W O R D S • 933.
T A G G E D • Ume
L Y R I C S • memories by lion if ido
T E M P L A T E • PANIC! ITS LAUZ of CAUTION
N O T E S • 8I It's about to be a what, gurl faight.

[KO UME]

let's pretend we don't exist. let's pretend we're in antarctica. let's pretend we don't exist.
let's have bizarre celebrations

It was dark behind her eyelids, uncomfortably so. Her thoughts were vague, murmured things that she couldn’t grasp onto. Some of them trailed on, long rants about nothing that she could recognize. Some spoke of the lights that she had seen, the ones that had now vanished completely. The elusive had become the hidden—the missing. As with everything else that had been before her eyes seconds earlier. The stalls, the sinks, the woman who was washing her hands at them. Everything had disappeared into the vacuous dark, the immeasurable black that had sucked her within. It was almost as if her theory had come true and the singularity that would one day consume earth had come for an early visit, trapping them forever within the immense volume. No time would pass her, and she would never realize that she was inside. Forever trapped within the mumbling of her thoughts, the emptiness of sight, the waiting for something that wouldn’t end. She wanted to break free now, to kick and scratch herself to the point of no return and beyond—to glance back and see the horizon point and smile. That would be the victory of the year, of a thousand years. To win against a black hole, she’d have people calling her name!

If there were any people left.

“Get off! Get off me you damn whore! Someone help me! Stop staring and help me!” a voice, much more clear than the thoughts that had leaked through her brain. So much more clean, in fact, that they pounded against her skull like a drum. The blankness began to swirl, to bend and break into the colors and shining spasms of reawakening. Her breath, which had been soft and dreamy, caught in her throat as she took the trip back to reality—as she pushed tooth and nail out of that hellish abyss and came out a champion. “She has to weigh at least a thousand pounds, this lug! Get off! You guys, come the fuck on!” The words were not forming as much as she would have loved them too, leaving Ume dazed and unsure of what she was hearing. It was like the other was mumbling through thick glass, and she was supposed to be translating the noises into actual coherent thoughts.

As she attempted to focus, the darkness was slipping and reality coming into play, her body moved and pressed against the softness of flesh and bone beneath her. An arm reached upwards and touched the smoothness of a face, the bump of the bone in a nose, the sink of the space below the eyes. Pale fingers met with lips, and they had turned downward in a look of shock that she could not see. As if blindness was her affliction, she groped at the woman that she had fallen against. Her other hand moved along the smoothness of a thigh, stretching down to curve around a knee and even gently tracing the line of muscle on the calf. It was not perversion that led her hands in such an array of movements, itching and seeking the contact of human skin so that she could recognize this as truth. She was honestly on top of another person—woman, her curves were too obvious for the other—and was in the process of groping them to the point where their rushed cries had disappeared to distressed noises of uncertainty.

Keeping close for a moment longer before the voice of her guardian shouted the words that would release her from this drunk closeness, she murmured against the other’s bosom, “So warm, so…” But her words were never completed, and her ministrations cut short as she was relieved from her duty by the dishonest cry of her companion.

Hoshi was the first thing that hit her. Bleeding was the second, on the floor the last. Her blue eyes shot open, frantically blinking to get the vision of the room. Still her blood level was uneven with alcohol, so the sights that she took in were dizzied. “DON’T WORRY HOSHI, I’M COMING!” her voice shot out without much of a warning, her hand shooting out to press against the woman’s shoulder to gain some general balance. It was a pity that the woman had been washing her hands at such a time as afterward the whirlwind of events certainly made her lose her taste for clubbing for the rest of the night. For now she was on the floor, the younger girl struggling to stand over her confused form and using her as some kind of balance. One second being groped, another being used as a door mat. This was her night, certainly.

Once Ume had completely regained her balance, she shot out of that bathroom like it was about to explode. Her thin arms pushed anyone out of the way, exhibiting strength that should not have been possible for someone of her stature. “GET OUT OF MY WAY, MY SISTER IS BLEEDING OUT. GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!” The pitch of her voice was high and obtrusive, cutting the laid-back air with a serrated quality. She had never been the one to have a magical, musical kind of tone, but when she screamed it was like fingers against the chalk board.

Finding her way to where Kage was standing, she attempted a grab at his collar, looking him straight in the face with the look of a mad woman. “WHERE IS SHE? TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!” Even in her state, she had recognized the tone of his voice. She knew that he knew where Hoshi was—so he better damn well lead her there. If not… well, he had a nice life, didn’t he?

[TAKANO KAGENUI]

THE TRUTH COMES OUT IN THE BREAKDOWNS
( • M E M O R I E S M Y G O D T H E S E M E M O R I E S • )

“DON’T WORRY HOSHI, I’M COMING!”

That voice, that clear, coherent thought that was relevant to its surroundings. Needless to say, Kagenui’s heard fell back from his throat and settled out in his chest cavity and all was a bit more well in the world. For once, Kagenui was thankful to hear Ume’s shrill, insistent voice. Firstly, it meant she was at least alive in there. Secondly, it meant she was conscious and responsive and able to discern what was going on around her. He could make out the sound of heels crashing against tile and flesh and anything that got in the way of their owners’ frenetic path, and in the back of his mind, he forced his mind to adapt to only focusing on the sound of those particular heels, paid close attention to its Doppler effect and braced himself for when fiery hair and a black slip barreled past unfortunate onlookers and smashed into him with a barrage of slurred questions and vehement glares. As soon as he could clearly see bodies being forced aside, Kagenui put on a look of utmost distress, occasionally allowing his eyes to flit to the side, to partygoers who looked to him and connected the cause of Ume’s relentless assault of their ears, bodies, and for one girl, privacy, as something innately intertwined with the likes of the expectantly waiting white-haired man with a glass of wine and a Cheshire grin fit for anyone who was maybe, just maybe, imagining hearts roasted on a spit as they spoke. And perhaps he was, but that was not something they’d get the time to ask.

And just as he had expected, Ume was on the war path. When he finally did pick her out of the anxious crowd, she was but a mere blur before something lunged at his throat with the virulent precision of an addled viper, nails pricking the skin before drawing away, bunching up the collar of his shirt and tugging him closer. His lips pursed around a careful smile, an expression of vague amusement and perhaps a little more if he felt so inclined as to feel anything separate. For however patient he may have seemed to the onlooking passerby, the way he straightened his back and stared back at Ume with such a ferocity that the other could quite possibly see the very hellfire in that which she was so shamelessly attempting to flaunt before him was a story that remained between the two and was of a different tone entirely. Really now, did Ume really think he would forgive her for all of this? No, no, no. Kagenui had a score and he wanted it settled. Now.

Something raked its fingers along his back, walking up his spine with nails jabbing like poisoned needles, picking and infecting vertebrae before a voice followed. A strident, caterwauling hiss. He chanced a glance, his expression still wry and challenging. Oh how he wished he hadn’t done that. For he now stared into not one face of doom, but a second, draped by wet, sticky hair and an entourage of equally vitriolic groupies, fingers retracted from his back and poised at her side as though she was now a cobra on the defensive. She swayed in place, either from her bubbling rage or from the lingering aftershock of what had occurred not too long ago. Kagenui attempted a sheepish smile, as though seeing the slightly remorseful expression would bring him some form of mercy. She didn’t seem pleased. He didn’t really expect her to be. His chest rose and fell in a tumultuous sigh, head inclined in a direction that didn’t put him directly facing an agitated female, and listened to her rant and rave and jab at his chest with the talons she called acrylic nails. Part of him wondered if it ever occurred to this woman to simply go to the bathroom and wash out the liquor in her hair and dripping from her face and torso instead of spending all of this time hunting him down. But then he recalled the incident that had been taking place in the bathroom at the time and more importantly, he remembered the woman who caused it and still had a crocodile’s death grip on his neck and muscles tensed to roll and snap his neck if he didn’t appease her soon.

"Ume, that woman did it. Hoshi accidently spilled a drink on her while looking for you, worried as always, and it went downhill from there.” He had spoken, almost whispered, to Ume in a way that would only involve and appeal to her ears, his eyes trained on the woman still racking up his offenses amongst her group with an expression that seemed to reproach and single her out simultaneously. Yes, it was a dishonest way to resolve his unfortunate circumstances, but he was already being less than truthful in dealing with just getting Ume out of the restroom, so why not go a little further and get rid of a particularly persistent woman—after all, Kagenui was always raised to believe a man must never reciprocate violence with violence when dealing with women. Unfortunately, his mother never mentioned the demerit for lying, framing, and otherwise making them miserable if they irritated him.

"If you want to teach them not to mess with your sister, I think we can spare a few minutes and I’ll take you to her afterwards—I’m sure she’d be proud of you for defending her honor.” He tacked on a few moments later, just to better sell his claim, a frown and a denigrating stare on the outside, a vicious harlequin smile on the inside.

THEY DON'T MEAN ANYTHING OH THOSE MEMORIES
( • A S Y O U S P O K E Y O U R F O R K E D T O N G U E S H O W E D • )

W O R D S • 950.
T A G G E D • Ume
L Y R I C S • memories by lion if ido
T E M P L A T E • PANIC! ITS LAUZ of CAUTION
N O T E S • 8I Sneaky, underhanded tricks ftw~.

[KO UME]

let's pretend we don't exist. let's pretend we're in antarctica. let's pretend we don't exist.
let's have bizarre celebrations

the limitless volume and intense gravity of a blackhole could not have kept Ume from her sister if she was in some grave danger. as she had escaped from such a deathly trap moments before simply out of the will to awaken from its death grip, she would tear through twenty or thirty of them now if it led her to a safe and comfortable Hoshi. when someone messed with one Ko sister, they messed with both of them--though this rule was mostly kept up by Ume's insistence to constantly insult or physically assault anyone who caused her precious older sister an ounce of harm. even if it was just a casual punch on the shoulder--really, who did that to a girl, anyway?--the younger Ko sister was on that person like white on rice. usually she was not quite so gentle, either. it ended up something like this situation, with her fingers curled in a strangle hold, nearly shaking the other like a bully looking for lunch money. but it was not the jangle of an innocent boy's coins that she was looking for, oh no. when something of this happened, she was looking for pain in the face of the person who had done something so cruel to her sister. looking for the flash of fright and imploring. there was no god, no buddha, no allah to save you from the terror of Ume's wrath, though. when the sunny giggle and girlish curve of her lips disapppeared, replaced by the infuriated flames that boiled in her eyes and the baring of her ivories in a primal search for flesh, you ran like a mofo from that place without looking back.

at the moment, the person who was to experience such a delightful thing was her guardian-turned-victim for the night, Kage. in her drunken state, her alertness could not be relied on and so she knew nothing of the woman that was clawing at his back as she held him close with that fierocity in her expression. though she had clearly established moments before the words of her sister being injured somewhere in the vicinity--not only injured, but bleeding out--she could not grasp his words as easly as she had before. there was a blurred section somewhere, the whispering that he did not helping her in any which way. the anger on her face faded slightly to accomodate the puzzlement that wished to make its home there as well. something about that woman--which one?--getting a drink spilled on her. Hoshi was in there, somewhere, she had caught that. her inebriated self attempted to attach this all together into one thing, coming up with the possibilities with a struggled attempt to pick the one that was true. this woman had spilled a drink on Hoshi? Hoshi had spilled a drink on this woman? this woman and Hoshi spilled some drinks? some drinks were spilled and Hoshi and this woman watched? whaaaaaaaaat.

well, either way. this woman had something to do with what happened to her sister dearest, something to do with how she was bleeding out on the floor somewhere in this ramshackle bar... that meant that the claws on Kage's back where about to disappear, because Ume would break each fake nail on that bitch's hand. oh, hell yes. "GET OUT OF MY WAY. HOSHI, THIS IS FOR YOU."

releasing Kage from her vice grip, she threw her arms out to shove him aside as she approached the steadily growing army of bitches and hoes that wanted to defend the queen of mean. Ume wasn't going to settle for a verbal tussle, her tongue was a bit too caught up in her mouth for more than a couple of insults. besides, drunk sixteen year old girls aren't very talented in the art of subtly. if anything, the thing that would come out of her lips would be something like--"HEY, YOU. YEAH YOU, BITCH. YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU'VE GOTTEN YOURSELF INTO." it wasn't so clear as that, given her state, and her appearance lacked the threatening atmosphere that was needed. the way she approached was sloppy, stumbling slightly across the ground as she made her way over. an accusatory finger was stuck out, pointing a finely red-polished hand at her enemy. at her sister's enemy. at the crazy ho who thought that messing with Ko Hoshi would just be some passing game. and for that she was poorly, poorly mistaken.

the second party in this situation just laughed at this drunken mess of a girl, pointing her own finger and covering up her mouth as she snickered. this was probably the hightlight of her night, seeing that asshole being protected by a girl--one that was younger than him, even. what a laughing stock! what a fool! like this twig could inflict any kind of damage on her; a full-figured, beautiful young woman who lifted five-pound weights at the gym every day. how, how she and her croonies were cawing like the aging ravens they were.

they didn't know Ume though. they didn't know that she could become a female hulk when she found the motivation, and this was just the one that she needed. not only had they laid their faux claws on her sibling, they had the nerve to laugh at her. oh. wow. mistake.

"like you coul--"

the ginger lunged with a vibrating battle screech--one that people swore made their vodka jump just a bit in it's glass, though maybe that was just them jumping out of their skins. Ume was on top of the woman that she had thrown to the ground, her teeth bared in that violent sneer of anger and determination. her fingers were no longer performing the warm ministrations like she had done on the other woman, the one who still sat confused in the bathroom, oh no. now they were clawed and intent, twirling fistfuls of alcohol-soaked hair and jerking back violently, igniting a scream of horrified terror from the opponent. the other was kicking and bucking violently like a zebra on it's last legs, with all the fear of a wild animal on it's death bad. the queen of mean certainly ddn't know how to fight against a young girl, seems like those five-pound weights didn't do so much when you only did ten reps. Ume was trying, though, trying with all of her might. with her fingers busy in the other's hair, her legs held down the hips of the other, bruising from the flexible kicks the other gave her. but to no avail, this was obviously a battle that the flame-haired girl was going to win. it was like big cat diaries--the lioness barely even injured as she takes down that persistent zebra. if only to make the resemblence more uncanny, Ume had her head ducked near the other woman's neck. there was no biting being involved, but it certainly gave the appearance.

"This is what you get when you mess with Hoshi, you skank," she growled before jerking back her arm with some intense force. o-oh dayum, gurl. a loose feeling was felt as she let go, and down floated some of that poor woman's hair. there was no weave to rip here.