MK fic: Les Vacances noires [WIP]
Title: Les Vacances noires
Scene Title: L'Abduction
Progress: WIP
One moment, he was flying through the air, cheering himself for a job well done as a man who reminded him a lot of Nakamori-keibu shouted what could only be curses in French. The next, he was gasping for air, pulling himself off of the ground, hand to his side as pain shot up it. Cracked ribs, maybe--if he was really luck, they were just bruised. People were shouting all in that foreign language, having him unable to tell which were the voices he should run from.
The closer ones, he decided as he quickly disentangled himself from his hang glider and his cape.
Leaving them behind--he'd brought another set anyway--and just in his white suit, the thief quickly ducked through the open park and toward the nearest busy street. He didn't quite know what had knocked him out of the air but it was most likely involving something involving certain men in shadows he'd met in Japan. Which meant he needed to get out of uniform and fast--the police were too far away to do anything to capture these men, meaning it was just him and them.
And things were already working against him.
"Il est là!"
He glanced over his shoulder but saw no one in the park behind him. Quickly, he ducked behind a garbage can and waited in silence. The voice had been close, so there was a chance that they were--
Right behind him, he thought with intense alarm as he ducked and then darted to the side, bringing out his card gun and firing it, catching the man who'd attempted to jump him from behind by the arm sleeve and nailing that arm firmly to a tree's trunk.
Guttural words which he took to be curses rose up, and he gave the man a bit of a smirk, "Nice try," he said in his own language, knowing that he wouldn't be understood but not caring.
Suddenly, the man went quiet before shouting, "Son côté droit!"
The thief's eyes shot wide open, for at that moment, something slammed into his right side, knocking the air from his lungs and throwing him back onto the ground. Pain in his side flourished, making his grip on the card gun fall loose, letting it skitter across the ground. Away from him.
Dazedly, he looked up and saw what he'd been hit by. A bat? He got taken off his feet by someone slamming his painfully throbbing side with a bat?
Giving a grin, he muttered, winded, "Bastard."
The man with the bat put his tool against the ground, leaning against it as he stared down at the figure in white who struggled to get up. "Bastard?" came the heavily accented Japanese. "As though your running makes you better, Kaitou Kid."
Kid pushed himself up enough to where he could attempt to sit up. A low laugh escape him. "Your Japanese is pretty good--but the accent needs some work--"
The bat had somehow left its position and slammed itself across the thief's shoulders, dropping him back to the ground and keeping him pinned there by staying between his shoulder blade, putting pressure on his spine. Kid gritted his teeth, knowing that the situation was quickly getting out of his control.
.
Scene Title: L'Abduction
Progress: WIP
One moment, he was flying through the air, cheering himself for a job well done as a man who reminded him a lot of Nakamori-keibu shouted what could only be curses in French. The next, he was gasping for air, pulling himself off of the ground, hand to his side as pain shot up it. Cracked ribs, maybe--if he was really luck, they were just bruised. People were shouting all in that foreign language, having him unable to tell which were the voices he should run from.
The closer ones, he decided as he quickly disentangled himself from his hang glider and his cape.
Leaving them behind--he'd brought another set anyway--and just in his white suit, the thief quickly ducked through the open park and toward the nearest busy street. He didn't quite know what had knocked him out of the air but it was most likely involving something involving certain men in shadows he'd met in Japan. Which meant he needed to get out of uniform and fast--the police were too far away to do anything to capture these men, meaning it was just him and them.
And things were already working against him.
"Il est là!"
He glanced over his shoulder but saw no one in the park behind him. Quickly, he ducked behind a garbage can and waited in silence. The voice had been close, so there was a chance that they were--
Right behind him, he thought with intense alarm as he ducked and then darted to the side, bringing out his card gun and firing it, catching the man who'd attempted to jump him from behind by the arm sleeve and nailing that arm firmly to a tree's trunk.
Guttural words which he took to be curses rose up, and he gave the man a bit of a smirk, "Nice try," he said in his own language, knowing that he wouldn't be understood but not caring.
Suddenly, the man went quiet before shouting, "Son côté droit!"
The thief's eyes shot wide open, for at that moment, something slammed into his right side, knocking the air from his lungs and throwing him back onto the ground. Pain in his side flourished, making his grip on the card gun fall loose, letting it skitter across the ground. Away from him.
Dazedly, he looked up and saw what he'd been hit by. A bat? He got taken off his feet by someone slamming his painfully throbbing side with a bat?
Giving a grin, he muttered, winded, "Bastard."
The man with the bat put his tool against the ground, leaning against it as he stared down at the figure in white who struggled to get up. "Bastard?" came the heavily accented Japanese. "As though your running makes you better, Kaitou Kid."
Kid pushed himself up enough to where he could attempt to sit up. A low laugh escape him. "Your Japanese is pretty good--but the accent needs some work--"
The bat had somehow left its position and slammed itself across the thief's shoulders, dropping him back to the ground and keeping him pinned there by staying between his shoulder blade, putting pressure on his spine. Kid gritted his teeth, knowing that the situation was quickly getting out of his control.
.