The soothing flow of a saxophone filled the autumn air. The dark, rich sound gave Fleur an idea of its size - perhaps a baritone considering how abrasive the sonance was. The ghost regarded musicians in the highest aspect, throwing nothing but absolute esteem towards those who could wield an instrument so effectively. Seldom did she reminisce to the olden days when her family was still intact, for she feared the heartbreak that could come like a bullet when she realized it was just a dream trapped within a nightmare. When she did, scenes of her and her brother holding hands, swaying in the living room crowded her mind. In the background were archaic compositions. Back in reality, her head turned towards the instrumentalist, the virtuoso. What a mistake.
Her expected poker face remained - she had nothing to say. All admiration and reverence towards entertainers as a whole shattered on the spot. Scarlet eyes inspected the bum, pondering at what an expensive object could be doing in his hands. Closer he came until he was a meter away from herself.
"Hey there!"In an instant, the note flashed in her mind. There was no one else around and this man came out of the blue, towards Fleur. Could he have been the one? She decided not to take any chances. Having little experience as far as fighting went, she tried her best to mimic the shows she use to watch as a kid. The muscles in the Coyote's cheeks stretched, forming a smile. Acting on that moment, Fleur forced herself up. She stabbed her blade into the floor and cried a little on the inside when she did.
I just cleaned it. The position of the scrap of metal was closer the man's left side. With a heave-ho, she lifted herself up and sprung into a kick with her left foot. The other foot remained on the floor, holding firm with bent knees. The upper body slightly tilted backwards in order to keep balance. Only when she turned and added explosive power with her hips did she pivot her right heel. The powerful turning kick tried to crucify the villain, directing her devastating foot towards his temple.
Just for precautionary measures, Fleur readied her grip on the blade with both hands. Landing the kick was ideal but not all situations could end up in her favor. Therefore, she began to perform an aggressive dance. If her lethal blow didn't connect, she continued to pivot and use that momentum to immediately rip her over-sized knife from the buttery ground. Before the swing, her left foot stamped the floor and stood her ground, taking control of her form while her back foot supported from behind. The ghost lady ended the performance with a clean diagonal cut across the man's chest.
Her weapon ate right through him, splattering the red plasma that aided in human life across her apparel. The pink floral pattern drenched in blood was pretty - red like roses.
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Word Count: 497