Fainting Spells

[Miss Murder]

Xanthe
You can only move as fast as who‘s in front of you.

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“Aargh!”
Seven year old Xanthe Murder slashed her open fists at the grass beneath her in attempt to dig under a fence, shredding the earth with her nervously bitten fingernails. With her teeth gritting tightly to each other the second grader glanced behind herself aggressively, right into the color of their eyes.
“Where d’ya think you’re goin’, ya little runt? Think you can get away from us, do ya?”
The one who spoke was a boy much taller than Xanthe herself. He had golden, choppy hair and piercing blue eyes, the kind that would rattle such a young child to the core. In the boy’s wholeness he was purely menacing down to the way he held a toothpick between his teeth. The sunset light dappled the two accomplices around him in flame, and by the looks of it, these other boys were his younger brothers.
The eldest brother strode up to Xanthe, grabbing the back of her red t-shirt. The collar rose up to Xanthe’s throat tightly and suddenly, allowing her to lose her breath for a moment. He twisted her around and pushed her to the chain link fence the little girl was trying so desperately to dig under. On his knees, he placed his hands on Xanthe’s tiny shoulders, smiling evilly while squeezing his victim’s shoulder blades.
“Who d’you think ya are tryin’ to steal our toys, ya thief?”
Xanthe lifted a hand, her gaze biting back the tears that threatened to flow from her emerald eyes, and gripped the boy‘s wrist. A section of brown hair lay against the right side of her face to cover a part of her shame. Even as a young child, Xanthe didn’t like being known as a crybaby, and she wasn’t about to listen to it from these three boys, especially not the eldest one who has the balls to beat up a little girl.
“That toy was not yours in the first place, you butt face,” Xanthe snapped. “It belongs to my older brother. You stole it from us first.”
The boy laughed, leaning into the younger girl. “And a little pipsqueak like you thought ya could come in our yard and steal it back?”
Her nails bent into his skin, reddened from a day in the sun. “Don’t call me small!”
Her scream echoed into the trees, the flocks of birds pouring from the branches as soon as the sound reached their ears. The leader’s two younger brothers glanced behind them to watch them fly away. Their faces showed puzzlement unlike their sibling, who only became more taunting.
“Ya think you’re somthin’, huh, girl?” He took his hands off of her shoulders and took the front of her shirt instead. “Listen good. We ain’t gonna take mouth from some little girl. We’re the Bennet brothers, and we don’t take mouth from no one, not even our mum or dad! Whatcha say to that?”
Xanthe glared up at him, her aura burning with determination.
“I don’t care who you are! You have no shame, so let’s go. I’ll take on all three of you at once for my big brother! I’ll fight you, and I‘ll win!”
The eldest Bennet sibling’s eyes narrowed, raising Xanthe slowly off the ground and he stood only with the forceful hold of her shirt. He brought her up to his gaze, aligning her perfectly with his icy vision.
“Fine.”
Xanthe landed on the ground on her bottom with a thunk, but kept eye contact with her attacker. He stood in a fighting stance, his brothers approaching behind him with rocks cradled in their arms.
“Let’s fight!”

And if you assume just like them, what good will it do?

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[[[ - padfoot]

X

avier[/center]

The scream sent birds flying from their roosts. His blood chilled and the baseball he was tossing crashed to the ground unnoticed. That was Xanthe's scream. But it hadn't echoed through the yard from the house. Their father had beat Xanthe before, it wasn't like he wouldn't do it again. He hadn't been able to do anything the last time, but nothing was going to stop him now. He felt his ear grow hot despite the cool breeze that brushed by his nearly naked head. His knuckles cracked as his hand closed around the leather ball.

The gate slammed again the fence, moving too fast even to squeak. It bounced back, pounding into his shoulder. He twitched, barely paying attention to the red diamonds beginning to appear on his bare arm. He was on a mission, and a mittle piece of bent metal wasn't going to stop him.

Their yard was surrounded by fencing too. The gate was locked, he discovered upon his attempt to open it. But it was metal. easy to lift from its hinges. It clattered against the ground, drawing the attention of one of the younger brothers. The boy dashed at him, his arm drawing back as though to hit him. He tossed the ball to his other hand, and drew back his own arm. His dirty nails dug into his palm, his hand jerking forward against the boys nose. He fell to the ground crying and clutching his nose. Blood was pouring through the cracks between his fingers.

Again, the ball through through the air to land in his other palm as the other brother lunged. His hand gripped against the ball, The dull red stitching making little contrast against the color of the old ball. His arm drew back, his knee drawing closer to his chest. He saw fear glint in the kid's eyes as he tried to turn away. The ball flew through the air, spinning as it flew toward its target. It bounced back toward him as it thunked against the middle brother's head. He fell back, his head bouncing off the ground as he fell.

His eyes zeroed in on the last brother. The one that had slammed his sister against the fencing. The one that had picked her up by her shirt, and dropped her to the ground. He as completely oblivious to the fact that his brothers had deserted him by rushing toward the new enemy. His arm stretched out to tap him on the shoulder, his body burning with anger.

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[Miss Murder]

Xanthe
You can only move as fast as who‘s in front of you.

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Xanthe watched indirectly as Xavier silently took out two of the three Bennet brothers with a baseball. She held back her wry smile, the gleam of victory in her eyes as the eldest boy burned into hers.
The fact that Xavier was here both relieved and angered her. She knew that if she didn’t get help from him that the boy that chased her would most definitely hurt her. However, Xanthe wasn’t someone to back down from a fight if exposed to one, even if she knew that she was weak. Part of her wanted to show everyone how powerful she was; she felt it inside. Xanthe could not find the strength to release it through her form, but under the skin she could sense something burning inside of her, waiting to escape. Somewhere…
Xanthe pushed herself off of the grass, specks of dirt falling off of her shorts as she stood. Her arms were stiff against her sides, her fingers flexing in and out of fists as she prepared herself.
“Whatcha waitin’ for, tiny?” the golden-haired boy jeered, placing his hands on his hips. “You’re not gonna do nothin’.”
The boy turned at once as he felt someone behind him, seeing a large shadow cast out past his own and Xanthe’s on the grass. Some of the dead light bounced off of the chained fence ahead of them and landed back onto his own face. The shadow slowly raised its eerie arm, poking the last standing Bennet on the shoulder. Cautiously the boy’s blue eyes rolled to the side to examine the one who created the darkness.
The boy was a bit taller than himself. His brown hair was cut shorter than what seemed to suit his squared face. He had the same green colored eyes as the girl who had threatened to fight, but the shape was completely opposite; more mature. Blood sparkled down the stranger’s arm, but it didn’t seem to bother him.
He looked past the bleeding kid to see his brothers as unmoving shapes against the fiery light around them. One was desperately holding onto his nose as the crimson life poured from his hands like the tears from his eyes.
“You freak!” he yelled at Xavier, bent at the knee to strike out at him. “My brothers!”
Xanthe could only witness as the bully pulled back his right arm, his hands balled together. He screamed again and lunged at Xavier, aiming right for his cheek.
Xanthe gasped, awaiting the impact. "Brother!"

And if you assume just like they do, what good will it do?

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