Author: Kuja PM
A short character summary of Priss. Enjoyable enough whether you love her or hate her. If you're homophobic, don't bother saying so in a review. I already know you're closed minded.Rated: Fiction T - English - Fantasy - Words: 827 - Reviews: 17 - Published: 01-21-01 - id: 185279
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to and did not create Priss or any other components of the series Bubblegum Crisis 2040. I actually didn't create anything I refer to here…just manipulating it in my own artistic way, I guess.
This fic takes place sometime during episode two of the series.
Priss stepped outside of her run down Tokyo home, and stretched her arms above her, yawning and exposing her midriff because of her short shirt. She surveyed the area through sleepy eyes. It was a day off, without a show to perform, but she felt she needed to wake up and live life, instead of snooze the day away as she usually did on these rare coming days without obligations.
She went inside for a brief moment to grab her helmet, and went back outside to slide it on. Priss then straddled her motorbike and revved it up, scooping out the road in front of her and the greatest city in the world before her. If it's so great, she thought, why can't I get a decent paycheck for singing my ass off every night?
She put her feet on the pedals, revved once more, switched gears, and went speeding down the cracked street. The cold wind whipped what little of her face was exposed through the helmet, but woke her up just the same. For once, she didn't think of singing. She didn't think of the mad boomers and the life she lived in secret, but she almost never did nowadays. It had been years since her love had been killed, and whatever revenge she felt was very deep rooted and innate; it wasn't anything she ever swore by anymore, let alone on a regular basis.
She passed by a poster advertising her and her band doing a string of shows at a local bar, and didn't pay any heed to it. Those things were plastered all over Tokyo nowadays; it was nothing to get excited about. Her thoughts drifted to the previous night's show though…that girl.
She had stood there, like a starstruck fan. For a while, Priss had thought that she was one. The bandmates cracked the usual gay joke about her, which always pissed her off a bit, even though she was a closet bisexual.
The band left, and Priss stood there, sizing up the girl. She seemed familiar…then it came to her. She was the one who had chased her earlier when Priss had accidentally knocked her over. She had run into her again when her life was threatened by a mad Boomer. This girl seemed a lot like a stalker…she just turned up everywhere Priss was.
The girl had asked to be a Knight Saber. Ha, Priss had thought. A Knight Saber? A weak and naïve girl like her? You must be kidding me. So Priss had slipped her helmet on, mounted the bike, and sped off into the wind, as she now did.
Her bike then entered the heart of the city, where the landscape was beautiful to her, but the traffic was the worst. She sped quickly into a parking garage and made her way through the labyrinth, up the ramps, and onto the roof. She brought the bike to a slow halt in the middle where there was an open spot, and dismounted. She pulled her helmet off, placed it on the seat, and shook her head to make her grungy, mid-length auburn hair fall roughly back into place.
She strode to the edge of the structure, her boots clicking against the hard concrete and her hands in her back pockets. Priss's head was leaned sown and slightly forward, looking at the ground before her. As she reached the short wall separating her and the open air, Priss tilted her neck and craned her head up, and surveyed the skyline surrounding her. Brilliant, she thought. If my house is a dump, my city may as well be magnificent.
Priss crouched down and swung her legs over the wall to sit precariously over the metropolis. She put her hands on her thighs for support and leaned forward a bit. It was a long way down, but she didn't care. There was a fistfight down the street. She cheered silently for the guy in the black shirt. There was a car accident on another road. She squinted to see if she could make out any dead bodies. This was what she did to enjoy herself. This was Priss.