The Climax, Part 2
Solomon tries to break from his fight with Nepotism. "I who am all pleasure and puuuuurple!" He lurches to the side, but Nepotism intercepts him lightning fast, stepping to the front and nearly spearing the singer between the shoulders.
When in doubt, jump. I leap for Kara and catch the Ankh, swinging out past, and wrapping my legs around the catwalk. I waste no time. My furious fingers that rip at the heavy ropes binding her, arms. Her eyes are closed. I hope I’m not imagining the slight flare of her nostrils to indicate life. I pull away the red circles, leaving her bare before the audience. With a lurch, the ankh breaks free and we crash down onto the Sephiroth, twisting the frame so much the band loses its footing. The bassist falls off, but only he stops performing.
"Paled!,” Solomon sings, unaffected. “Puuuuuuuuurpaaaaaaal!" He desperately tries to extricate himself from Nepotism, but Nep is made of sterner stuff. He blocks each thrust with his own blade and counters it into a devastating attack, driving the vocalist back.
I’m upside down beneath the Sephiroth, hanging from the Ankh with my legs wrapped around Kara’s waist. I yank at the thick knots, breaking them open, doing my best to get at those around her neck. We're almost free, Kara, we're almost free.
Solomon has driven Nepotism back to the opposite end of the stage. Nepotism is holding his ground, but the railing is shaking with every connection of their broadswords. "PALED!" Solomon shouts, chopping down at Nepotism. "Puuuuuuurple." Solomon draws his blade left and right in a wicked series of attacks that Nepotism is hardly able to deflect.
A spinning disc from the Tree of Life bends and spins upward, releasing the giant Ankh to fall free, just as Kara comes loose in my arms. "Hold on, Kara," I whisper in her ear, and then we’re in the air.
The Ankh catches on the metal frame of the platform and flips us topside before crashing down to the metal grate beneath. I slide off the Ankh, pulling Kara with me. Road crew are removing the bassist from the stage. His music remains in the mix.
Nepotism will stop at nothing to keep Solomon occupied. Nep leaps again, and both lose their footing, both catching the railing, dangling below the rail, still slashing and cutting, legs scrambling madly at the air. The microphone is gone, but I can still hear Solomon shouting the word "PALED! Puuuurple!"
I'm slapping lightly at Kara's face, trying to revive her. I can't carry her out of here, I'm going to have an entire SpectraCom Security Unit on me in a minute, and I'm going to need to shoot my way out.
Kara starts to grunt and pull away, but still isn't ready to be up and walking around.
"Come on, Kara," I order. "Wake the fuck up."
Solomon and Nepotism have pulled themselves onto the catwalk, still fighting. The crowd is screaming so loud the music can barely be heard. They are still clashing his sword with Nepotism, who is inching his way down the bar after his quarry.
"Come on, Kara, come on," I growl, slapping a little harder.
"Nnnn," Kara moans.
"Kara, wake the fuck up, will you?"
The audience is going absolutely batshit as Solomon continues to sing. "Yea shall gather goods and store of women and spices." Independent spotlights at each tip trace Stars of David in the smoke over the crowd which ignites another fury of screaming and surging against the barricades barely under control of the bouncers in STAFF T-shirts manning the lines.