Challenge:
An Aristocrat who has found true love
Her Alter Ego shows Weak abilities fueled by a state of disfavour
Shape IN30
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Laughing and giggling, the girls leaned against each other as they crossed the street. Behind them the club doors swung shut, swallowing great gulps of sound that leaked into the night. Trendy boots splashed through puddles, leather jacket against denim, silver jewellery against a discrete handbag.
The walk would take 20 minutes normally, but with stolen kisses and bubbles of laughter, it was nearly an hour later when they reached the underpass. A heavy black bar dangled, waiting for them at the end of the tunnel, with a hammer moving out the shadows behind them. A third and fourth moved down to join them, a pipe and a kitchen knife between them. They were masked, and sounded almost bored when the demands came. One girl started sobbing, pulling out a phone, a purse, trying to undo her earrings with shaking hands. The other frowned and blinked slowly. Her voice remained calm, with an accent that dripped of old wine and rich furnishings.
"Rupes, darling, I did say this was a rough part of town."
'Rupes' sobbed quietly as she emptied her purse out, the muggers leaning in. One twitched as coins rolled across the floor of the underpass. Another, the one with the dirty bar of metal, moved towards the girl that had spoken. His teeth were yellow and glistened as he licked the blade and spat. Another man shuffled into position behind her. The smell of sweat and dirt and fear hung over the group.
Humming quietly to herself, the girl stepped forward and punched him straight in the nose with an open palm. As he staggered backward she looked behind her, swinging the same palm down and round in a tight arc, knocking the incoming hammer out of the way and finishing with the edge of her palm in the side of his neck. He managed to look surprised before she caught his arm between hers and kicked him square in the chest, sending him stumbling backwards, out of the fight.
Approaching from the other side, the guy with pipe swung high at her head. Her legs still spread from the kick, she shifted her weight to the foot closest him, pressing one fist into an open palm, placing all of her momentum into the elbow that caught the bottom of his ribs.
The last of them came in low, no theatrics, just a nasty serrated knife and a grunting thrust. Again, she shifted her weight, the knife ripping the arm on her leather jacket as she slid her forearm under his thrust, lifting it over her and leaving his throat unguarded.
Two girls left the underpass, one leaning on the other, the other cleaning her hands carefully on a cotton handkerchief.
"Really darling, they were a little common weren't they? Not a patch on those kidnappers I ran into in Thailand. Still, the night is young, perhaps there's more mucking out to come."