Yang Xiao Long (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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genessia2017-10-25 12:39 pm
solar_flare) wrote in genessia2017-10-25 12:39 pm
Entry tags:
Bounty Log: Pumpkins
WHO: Mercury Black, Yang Xiao Long
WHAT: Yang puts her plan into action to capture the Pumpkins bounty lurking in Attleton, and Mercury shows up too late to talk her out of it.
WHEN: October 26th, 2017
WHERE: Attleton / Genessia City
Yang was seldom this careful when preparing to go after one of her bounties. Certainly she didn't mind doing the legwork to figure out what type of victims a bounty favored and where he was likely to strike, but actually preparing for the fight itself? Planning out a legitimate strategy to deal with a troublesome environment? Not her usual modus operandi but she was trying. There was too much at stake to go into this with any degree of carelessness.
Her bounty, the pumpkin-headed assailant, was in Attleton, and as far as she knew, that place could still rip her worst fears straight out of her mind and send them after her. That made it absolutely essential that she take everything about this case seriously, even taking the case at all.
She was less than eager to run into Adam again...or worse, Nightmare Adam, since she was positive that her mind would make him so much worse than the real thing. She'd glimpsed the leader of the White Fang only briefly the last time she'd been in Attleton as he'd appeared just as she staggered out of the gate to safety. Despite her reluctance to meet him again, she was even less on board with the idea of letting some maniac run loose just because she couldn't face her fears.
She told herself over and over that people were depending on her to stop Pumpkins, yet her left hand still shook like a leaf every time she put her focus on her mission. It happened when she'd called Mikaela for help in fixing up her bike, and when she'd ordered the fear-dispelling potions. Even when she mentioned it to a select few people that she trusted, she was glad that the communicator didn't show just how nervous she really was.
But she went through with the steps of her plan, one by one. She dropped off her bike. Placed the call for potion commission. Called the Attleton police department for tips and sightings. Picked up a watch with an alarm she could set. On the night before she planned to go through with the plan, she drank one of the vials of liquid courage before stepping through the archway, just to make sure it worked. One minute passed. Then two. Then five. When fifteen went by with no Adam, she smiled. The potion wouldn't last forever -- one hour at most, and only once per 24 hours -- but she'd noticed it had the extra quality of calming her mind to the point that her fingers no longer shook at the thought of the man who'd taken her arm.
This was going to work.
On Thursday she called the Attleton police station to let them know she was close at hand and ready to jump into action the moment Pumpkins was spotted. As far as she could tell, this guy didn't have any sort of pattern established. He'd attacked people in the daylight and at night, young and old, male and female. No one had died yet, the bounty claim stated, and Yang didn't want to wait for that possibility to become eventuality. He had to be stopped. Today.
She waited outside the gate astride her motorcycle, communicator in her hand, potions nestled in her pocket. There was a possibility she might run into someone else stuck in Attleton who'd have need of such a draught, and if not, she could definitely use these things in the future to keep her trauma at bay when it was crucial for her to have her head on straight.
At long last, her device beeped. A message scrolled over her screen.
Pumpkins spotted near abandoned theme park.
Fantastic. Yang slipped the comm into her pocket and drew out one of the potions. She uncorked it and drank it down. It had a strong, acrid taste, and she grimaced at the flavor of sour seawater that lingered in her mouth. Ugh... She tossed the empty vial into the garbage and jammed her foot down on the starter. Her motorcycle engine yowled before settling into a steady, thrumming purr.
Beep!
Her head jerked down to stare at her pocket. Another message? She figured it was probably just an incoming text from someone she knew, but she frowned at the name. 'Attleton PD.' Her thumb flicked across the screen.
Pumpkins spotted near Skate Park.
"Well which one is it?!" she growled at the device, though it yielded no response. Those two places were nowhere near each other, there was no way he could have traveled from one to the other, even if he had access to a car. There was nothing to do for it but to check both. She had time.
Lifting her wrist, Yang set her alarm to one hour from now. 7:38 PM. The potion would wear off at that moment, so if her attempts to catch the guy were a bust, she'd need to get the hell out of there unless she wanted to face Adam on her own. (She did not.)
Gunning the engine, Yang gripped the handlebars and zipped through the archway. This pumpkin-loving punk (dare she say, a PUNK-kin???) was going down.
* * * * *
Over half an hour later, Yang's bike tore through the city, just barely nosing at the top of the speed limit, as she raced for the skate park. The abandoned amusement park was a bust, and she was pretty sure that it was the legacy of the place alone that prompted someone to get spooked and file a report 'just to be on the safe side.' It had cost her way more time than she would have liked driving around looking for signs of Pumpkins. Just when she was about to turn around and head for the skate park, sure enough, there was a beep on her comm.
Victim assaulted at skate park by man with squash on head.
She cursed under her breath, wheeling her motorcycle sharply around to change her course. She hated it when she guessed wrong.
It took her eight minutes to get there. Twenty minutes left. It was enough time. The little Japanese motorcycle squealed to a stop as Yang jammed down the kickstand and swung her leg over the seat to dismount. Someone was grunting in muffled pain in synch with a series of meaty thuds. Yang ran toward the source, pumping her arms as she raced up the hill that led to the big concrete bowl. She passed an abandoned skateboard turned over on the grass, barely giving it a passing glance, and crested the hill.
A body crashed into her arms. "Oof--!" Yang staggered back, almost bowled over by the sudden weight of a groaning mop-headed teenager. There were bruises all over his face, and his nose was dripping scarlet. Anger began to burn in her veins as she lifted her head, knowing exactly who was standing in the concrete bowl below.
He was tall, and lithe, holding a baseball bat stained with blood both old and fresh. Somewhere within the hollowed cavity of his pumpkin helmet, his eyes watched hers, and his grip on the bat tightened.
Yang gently eased the young man onto the grass and stood. Her fingers closed into fists.
His finger crooked, beckoning her.
She shot a rocket at his pumpkin head.
The surprise on his face, as the sagging gourd exploded to reveal his gaunt countenance, was incredibly satisfying. Clearly he'd expected her to run at him with fists swinging, not a long-range attack. Should have planned for that, but it was too late now. He staggered back, dazed, and Yang was on him almost immediately. Her running leap landed her near the edge of the concrete, and a shot from her gauntlets carried her the rest of the way. A punch to the gut, an uppercut to the chin, and a roundhouse kick to the back of the head to pitch him into the ground with a muffled grunt was all it took to make him drop his weapon.
"OhhhhHhHhH...ohHhHhhH..." he groaned, stirring sluggishly and pulling his hands to his scraped face. Yang unhitched her handcuffs from her belt and grabbed one of his wrists to drag it behind him. She planted her knee in the small of his back, taking the other hand to cuff that too. Mission complete, and with plenty of time to spare. ...Ugh, this guy reeked of moldy pumpkins.
He muttered something into the ground. Yang ignored him. She seized him by the scruff of his dirty collar and hauled him up, then turned to pull him along back up the concrete bowl and over the hill while letting his feet drag over the concrete and grass him.
"If you know what's good for you," Yang said lowly, "don't squirm around. I don't have an extra helmet." She draped him over the back of the motorcycle before slinging her leg over the bike, settling herself in. One quick call to the local hospital to get some medics on the way for the teen he'd pummeled, if the police hadn't dispatched ambulances already, and Yang was soon rolling down the streets of Attleton with her captured bounty.
He was quiet for the ride, a model prisoner. There was no resistance when they arrived at the police station ten minutes later and she hauled him off of her bike. His steps were unsteady, but he moved where she herded him along in front of her.
"This him?" a woman called out. Yang recognized her contact, a hard-faced redheaded cop with her scarlet hair pulled back into a severe bun. The cop reached for Pumpkins before her head jerked back slightly, nostrils flaring at the strong odor that wafted off of him. "Phugh! Yup, that's the guy, no doubt about it. You do good work. I'll start the paperwork so we can get you your pay."
"Thanks," Yang nodded. Her watch showed she had just a little over ten minutes left, so she appreciated a chance to skip out on the paperwork.
"Girl." Yang stopped as Pumpkins addressed her. His voice was raspy, lank dark hair hanging in front of his eyes as he regarded her in weary defeat.
Yang turned toward him.
He smiled. And a burst of gas leaked from a jack-o-lantern pin on his dirty coat, right into Yang's face. Someone shouted, and several cops surged forward. The room tilted.
* * * * *
Beepbeepbeep.
"...ake up..."
Beepbeepbeep.
"...iao Long are y..."
Beepbeepbeep.
"...t him out of here! And pat him down, I don't want...!"
Beepbeepbeep.
Voices swam in and out of her head, veering drunkenly between sharp clarity and hazy dissonance. And behind it all, there was a steady, repeating trio of beeps. Yang's lashes parted, her lilac eyes staring blearily at a white ceiling stained with yellow patches by old dripping pipes. The police station...that made sense...but why... What...
Beepbeepbeep.
Her heart suddenly contracted. The beeps. The alarm!
She sat up boltright with a sharp gasp, startling one of the cops that was leaning over her. "Are you--"
"How long has the alarm-- I have to go!" Yang shoved herself to her feet, too quickly, and her head-pounding dizziness threatened to dump her right back onto the floor. She stumbled and threw out her arm to catch herself, then gave her head a fierce shake as she bolted for the front door.
The sense of collected calm that had come with the potion was gone. Even as she straddled her motorcycle, she could see the tremors that shook her left hand. She tightened her grip on the handlebar to stop it, her knuckles white. The last time she'd been in Attleton, it had taken five minutes before Adam appeared. There might still be time, but she had no way of knowing just how long the knockout gas had put her under. She coaxed her motorcycle to life and leaned forward, pushing off the asphalt with her foot.
--You shouldn't have come back.--
The voice lanced through Yang's ears, cutting off every other sound of the city into a dead silence, and she stiffened. Her throat was tight. Her heartbeat drummed a cacophany in her ears as her breathing quickened, both so frantic and so loud she couldn't hear anything else. That voice. She'd never heard Adam speak aloud, but somehow she knew the owner of that ghastly statement.
He was coming. He might be there already.
She grit her teeth and kicked the bike forward, almost choking the engine with gas as she gunned it for all she was worth. Her eyes darted nervously all around her. He was here. Somewhere. She didn't know where. He couldn't match her motorcycle's speed on foot, she knew that much, but what guarantee did she have? If he was just a manifestation of everything she feared, everything she dreaded, wouldn't every terrible thing about him just be grossly magnified?
The traffic light up ahead turned red. The sight of the color alone made her stomach drop sharply. She grit her teeth and powered forward through the light, leaning hard to the left as she powered through the intersection and swerved through the cars, leaving a wake of squealing brakes and blaring horns behind her.
She had to go faster. She had to get out.
His masked face seemed to loom everywhere, just out of direct sight. She thought she saw him as she blurred past a restaurant, but when she turned her head, nothing. Perched on top of a delivery truck out of the corner of her eyes. Turned her head, nothing. The gateway was just ahead.
Adam was right in front of her, and his blood red blade was coming down straight for her.
The motorcycle tires screeched. Pitched. Yang threw herself desperately to the side, hitting the ground with a painful thud. The agony of the impact was dulled only by her aura as half of her bike clattered to her left, and the other half was kicked away from where the faunus loomed tall and deadly. He was in no rush to reach her, each languid and long stride carrying him closer to where she lay in a panting heap upon the ground. Sparks sprayed from the tip of his sword as it dragged over the asphalt.
Yang rolled onto her stomach, panting for breath as she pushed at the street, twice, feet scrambling for purchase as she struggled to rise. A staggered half-step almost carried her directly into the path of his sword swing as it carved away a thin strip of the street where her head had been. How had he reached her so fast?! She fell back onto her rear with a strangled cry and thrust her fist at his chest as she activated her gauntlets in self-defense. Her blasts ricocheted right off of his broad chest, scattering ammunition shells all over the payment, but his clothing didn't even sustain the slightest wrinkle. Nothing she could do would hurt him.
Nothing she could do would stop him.
Run, you idiot! she urged herself, and rolled to the side as he swung at her again with a swift and decisive stroke. His sword was not a small one, but so great was his strength that his blade might as well have been light as a feather and a part of his very arm. The sharp edge bit through her coat, and she felt the sting as it barely scored her thigh. If she'd been half a second slower, he would have crippled her on the spot. She couldn't fight him, not like this.
Maybe not ever.
She fired her gauntlets again, and again, but instead of trying to hit him with her shots, she reversed Ember Celica to launch herself backward, using propulsion to put as much distance between them as she could. Each frantic shot slammed her backwards several feet, and she was only barely keeping her footing.
Adam leaped high in the air, blade raised, point aimed at her chest. He was coming down. His sword hadn't even touched her yet, but she knew how it would feel, slicing through her aura , severing through flesh, cleaving through bone, the sharp and burning pain so intense that her mind would rather shut down and let her die unprotected than keep her conscious enough to run...
Yang raised her arms defensively in front of her face as she hurled herself bodily through the gate...
WHAT: Yang puts her plan into action to capture the Pumpkins bounty lurking in Attleton, and Mercury shows up too late to talk her out of it.
WHEN: October 26th, 2017
WHERE: Attleton / Genessia City
Yang was seldom this careful when preparing to go after one of her bounties. Certainly she didn't mind doing the legwork to figure out what type of victims a bounty favored and where he was likely to strike, but actually preparing for the fight itself? Planning out a legitimate strategy to deal with a troublesome environment? Not her usual modus operandi but she was trying. There was too much at stake to go into this with any degree of carelessness.
Her bounty, the pumpkin-headed assailant, was in Attleton, and as far as she knew, that place could still rip her worst fears straight out of her mind and send them after her. That made it absolutely essential that she take everything about this case seriously, even taking the case at all.
She was less than eager to run into Adam again...or worse, Nightmare Adam, since she was positive that her mind would make him so much worse than the real thing. She'd glimpsed the leader of the White Fang only briefly the last time she'd been in Attleton as he'd appeared just as she staggered out of the gate to safety. Despite her reluctance to meet him again, she was even less on board with the idea of letting some maniac run loose just because she couldn't face her fears.
She told herself over and over that people were depending on her to stop Pumpkins, yet her left hand still shook like a leaf every time she put her focus on her mission. It happened when she'd called Mikaela for help in fixing up her bike, and when she'd ordered the fear-dispelling potions. Even when she mentioned it to a select few people that she trusted, she was glad that the communicator didn't show just how nervous she really was.
But she went through with the steps of her plan, one by one. She dropped off her bike. Placed the call for potion commission. Called the Attleton police department for tips and sightings. Picked up a watch with an alarm she could set. On the night before she planned to go through with the plan, she drank one of the vials of liquid courage before stepping through the archway, just to make sure it worked. One minute passed. Then two. Then five. When fifteen went by with no Adam, she smiled. The potion wouldn't last forever -- one hour at most, and only once per 24 hours -- but she'd noticed it had the extra quality of calming her mind to the point that her fingers no longer shook at the thought of the man who'd taken her arm.
This was going to work.
On Thursday she called the Attleton police station to let them know she was close at hand and ready to jump into action the moment Pumpkins was spotted. As far as she could tell, this guy didn't have any sort of pattern established. He'd attacked people in the daylight and at night, young and old, male and female. No one had died yet, the bounty claim stated, and Yang didn't want to wait for that possibility to become eventuality. He had to be stopped. Today.
She waited outside the gate astride her motorcycle, communicator in her hand, potions nestled in her pocket. There was a possibility she might run into someone else stuck in Attleton who'd have need of such a draught, and if not, she could definitely use these things in the future to keep her trauma at bay when it was crucial for her to have her head on straight.
At long last, her device beeped. A message scrolled over her screen.
Pumpkins spotted near abandoned theme park.
Fantastic. Yang slipped the comm into her pocket and drew out one of the potions. She uncorked it and drank it down. It had a strong, acrid taste, and she grimaced at the flavor of sour seawater that lingered in her mouth. Ugh... She tossed the empty vial into the garbage and jammed her foot down on the starter. Her motorcycle engine yowled before settling into a steady, thrumming purr.
Beep!
Her head jerked down to stare at her pocket. Another message? She figured it was probably just an incoming text from someone she knew, but she frowned at the name. 'Attleton PD.' Her thumb flicked across the screen.
Pumpkins spotted near Skate Park.
"Well which one is it?!" she growled at the device, though it yielded no response. Those two places were nowhere near each other, there was no way he could have traveled from one to the other, even if he had access to a car. There was nothing to do for it but to check both. She had time.
Lifting her wrist, Yang set her alarm to one hour from now. 7:38 PM. The potion would wear off at that moment, so if her attempts to catch the guy were a bust, she'd need to get the hell out of there unless she wanted to face Adam on her own. (She did not.)
Gunning the engine, Yang gripped the handlebars and zipped through the archway. This pumpkin-loving punk (dare she say, a PUNK-kin???) was going down.
Over half an hour later, Yang's bike tore through the city, just barely nosing at the top of the speed limit, as she raced for the skate park. The abandoned amusement park was a bust, and she was pretty sure that it was the legacy of the place alone that prompted someone to get spooked and file a report 'just to be on the safe side.' It had cost her way more time than she would have liked driving around looking for signs of Pumpkins. Just when she was about to turn around and head for the skate park, sure enough, there was a beep on her comm.
Victim assaulted at skate park by man with squash on head.
She cursed under her breath, wheeling her motorcycle sharply around to change her course. She hated it when she guessed wrong.
It took her eight minutes to get there. Twenty minutes left. It was enough time. The little Japanese motorcycle squealed to a stop as Yang jammed down the kickstand and swung her leg over the seat to dismount. Someone was grunting in muffled pain in synch with a series of meaty thuds. Yang ran toward the source, pumping her arms as she raced up the hill that led to the big concrete bowl. She passed an abandoned skateboard turned over on the grass, barely giving it a passing glance, and crested the hill.
A body crashed into her arms. "Oof--!" Yang staggered back, almost bowled over by the sudden weight of a groaning mop-headed teenager. There were bruises all over his face, and his nose was dripping scarlet. Anger began to burn in her veins as she lifted her head, knowing exactly who was standing in the concrete bowl below.
He was tall, and lithe, holding a baseball bat stained with blood both old and fresh. Somewhere within the hollowed cavity of his pumpkin helmet, his eyes watched hers, and his grip on the bat tightened.
Yang gently eased the young man onto the grass and stood. Her fingers closed into fists.
His finger crooked, beckoning her.
She shot a rocket at his pumpkin head.
The surprise on his face, as the sagging gourd exploded to reveal his gaunt countenance, was incredibly satisfying. Clearly he'd expected her to run at him with fists swinging, not a long-range attack. Should have planned for that, but it was too late now. He staggered back, dazed, and Yang was on him almost immediately. Her running leap landed her near the edge of the concrete, and a shot from her gauntlets carried her the rest of the way. A punch to the gut, an uppercut to the chin, and a roundhouse kick to the back of the head to pitch him into the ground with a muffled grunt was all it took to make him drop his weapon.
"OhhhhHhHhH...ohHhHhhH..." he groaned, stirring sluggishly and pulling his hands to his scraped face. Yang unhitched her handcuffs from her belt and grabbed one of his wrists to drag it behind him. She planted her knee in the small of his back, taking the other hand to cuff that too. Mission complete, and with plenty of time to spare. ...Ugh, this guy reeked of moldy pumpkins.
He muttered something into the ground. Yang ignored him. She seized him by the scruff of his dirty collar and hauled him up, then turned to pull him along back up the concrete bowl and over the hill while letting his feet drag over the concrete and grass him.
"If you know what's good for you," Yang said lowly, "don't squirm around. I don't have an extra helmet." She draped him over the back of the motorcycle before slinging her leg over the bike, settling herself in. One quick call to the local hospital to get some medics on the way for the teen he'd pummeled, if the police hadn't dispatched ambulances already, and Yang was soon rolling down the streets of Attleton with her captured bounty.
He was quiet for the ride, a model prisoner. There was no resistance when they arrived at the police station ten minutes later and she hauled him off of her bike. His steps were unsteady, but he moved where she herded him along in front of her.
"This him?" a woman called out. Yang recognized her contact, a hard-faced redheaded cop with her scarlet hair pulled back into a severe bun. The cop reached for Pumpkins before her head jerked back slightly, nostrils flaring at the strong odor that wafted off of him. "Phugh! Yup, that's the guy, no doubt about it. You do good work. I'll start the paperwork so we can get you your pay."
"Thanks," Yang nodded. Her watch showed she had just a little over ten minutes left, so she appreciated a chance to skip out on the paperwork.
"Girl." Yang stopped as Pumpkins addressed her. His voice was raspy, lank dark hair hanging in front of his eyes as he regarded her in weary defeat.
Yang turned toward him.
He smiled. And a burst of gas leaked from a jack-o-lantern pin on his dirty coat, right into Yang's face. Someone shouted, and several cops surged forward. The room tilted.
Beepbeepbeep.
"...ake up..."
Beepbeepbeep.
"...iao Long are y..."
Beepbeepbeep.
"...t him out of here! And pat him down, I don't want...!"
Beepbeepbeep.
Voices swam in and out of her head, veering drunkenly between sharp clarity and hazy dissonance. And behind it all, there was a steady, repeating trio of beeps. Yang's lashes parted, her lilac eyes staring blearily at a white ceiling stained with yellow patches by old dripping pipes. The police station...that made sense...but why... What...
Beepbeepbeep.
Her heart suddenly contracted. The beeps. The alarm!
She sat up boltright with a sharp gasp, startling one of the cops that was leaning over her. "Are you--"
"How long has the alarm-- I have to go!" Yang shoved herself to her feet, too quickly, and her head-pounding dizziness threatened to dump her right back onto the floor. She stumbled and threw out her arm to catch herself, then gave her head a fierce shake as she bolted for the front door.
The sense of collected calm that had come with the potion was gone. Even as she straddled her motorcycle, she could see the tremors that shook her left hand. She tightened her grip on the handlebar to stop it, her knuckles white. The last time she'd been in Attleton, it had taken five minutes before Adam appeared. There might still be time, but she had no way of knowing just how long the knockout gas had put her under. She coaxed her motorcycle to life and leaned forward, pushing off the asphalt with her foot.
The voice lanced through Yang's ears, cutting off every other sound of the city into a dead silence, and she stiffened. Her throat was tight. Her heartbeat drummed a cacophany in her ears as her breathing quickened, both so frantic and so loud she couldn't hear anything else. That voice. She'd never heard Adam speak aloud, but somehow she knew the owner of that ghastly statement.
He was coming. He might be there already.
She grit her teeth and kicked the bike forward, almost choking the engine with gas as she gunned it for all she was worth. Her eyes darted nervously all around her. He was here. Somewhere. She didn't know where. He couldn't match her motorcycle's speed on foot, she knew that much, but what guarantee did she have? If he was just a manifestation of everything she feared, everything she dreaded, wouldn't every terrible thing about him just be grossly magnified?
The traffic light up ahead turned red. The sight of the color alone made her stomach drop sharply. She grit her teeth and powered forward through the light, leaning hard to the left as she powered through the intersection and swerved through the cars, leaving a wake of squealing brakes and blaring horns behind her.
She had to go faster. She had to get out.
His masked face seemed to loom everywhere, just out of direct sight. She thought she saw him as she blurred past a restaurant, but when she turned her head, nothing. Perched on top of a delivery truck out of the corner of her eyes. Turned her head, nothing. The gateway was just ahead.
Adam was right in front of her, and his blood red blade was coming down straight for her.
The motorcycle tires screeched. Pitched. Yang threw herself desperately to the side, hitting the ground with a painful thud. The agony of the impact was dulled only by her aura as half of her bike clattered to her left, and the other half was kicked away from where the faunus loomed tall and deadly. He was in no rush to reach her, each languid and long stride carrying him closer to where she lay in a panting heap upon the ground. Sparks sprayed from the tip of his sword as it dragged over the asphalt.
Yang rolled onto her stomach, panting for breath as she pushed at the street, twice, feet scrambling for purchase as she struggled to rise. A staggered half-step almost carried her directly into the path of his sword swing as it carved away a thin strip of the street where her head had been. How had he reached her so fast?! She fell back onto her rear with a strangled cry and thrust her fist at his chest as she activated her gauntlets in self-defense. Her blasts ricocheted right off of his broad chest, scattering ammunition shells all over the payment, but his clothing didn't even sustain the slightest wrinkle. Nothing she could do would hurt him.
Nothing she could do would stop him.
Run, you idiot! she urged herself, and rolled to the side as he swung at her again with a swift and decisive stroke. His sword was not a small one, but so great was his strength that his blade might as well have been light as a feather and a part of his very arm. The sharp edge bit through her coat, and she felt the sting as it barely scored her thigh. If she'd been half a second slower, he would have crippled her on the spot. She couldn't fight him, not like this.
Maybe not ever.
She fired her gauntlets again, and again, but instead of trying to hit him with her shots, she reversed Ember Celica to launch herself backward, using propulsion to put as much distance between them as she could. Each frantic shot slammed her backwards several feet, and she was only barely keeping her footing.
Adam leaped high in the air, blade raised, point aimed at her chest. He was coming down. His sword hadn't even touched her yet, but she knew how it would feel, slicing through her aura , severing through flesh, cleaving through bone, the sharp and burning pain so intense that her mind would rather shut down and let her die unprotected than keep her conscious enough to run...
Yang raised her arms defensively in front of her face as she hurled herself bodily through the gate...
no subject
Yang Xiao Long's name was on there.
Attleton. It had to be fucking Attleton.
Maybe it's Aura, maybe it's fate, but something yanked at his gut and told him to move - he was at the gateway before he knew it, just in time to watch Yang roar through the portal on her motorcycle. Shit. Shit. What was she thinking, going there of all places? Did she seriously think she could handle this bounty and Adam at the same time? How stupid could she be? How goddamn stupid could she be?
Maybe she'll be fine. It could just be an in-and-out deal. Her bike is fast, and... she'd been looking for potions on the network, right? Was that for this? He never got to ask, the conversation had turned and she hung up on him, a memory that still brings a crease to his brow as he approaches the gateway. So maybe she had a way of suppressing it temporarily. Fine. For how long? And would it even work? This world played by its own rules sometimes.
But really, did it matter? It's not like he could go in after her. Not when he knew that doing so could endanger her and everyone on that side of the barrier. He'd been stopped once, but only because someone stronger had showed up. Without that interference, who knew what kind of havoc he might wreak? No, he's stuck on this side, waiting for her to come out - he leans against the structure of the portal itself, heaving a sigh. He'll wait a bit.
He waits longer than a bit.
It's been well over an hour and she's not coming out.
He pushes himself off the gateway to walk in front of the portal again, grimacing. He take a few steps in, right? The change had taken more than a split second to occur last time. At the very least he'll know if Yang's anywhere near the entrance to the portal. Just five seconds. If he doesn't see her, he'll figure something out. Call for help, steal a potion, whatever. He'll do it.
A deep breath in, as he takes a few steps back, teeth grit as he begins a running start--
And the next thing he knows he's on his back, hitting the ground hard enough to knock his breath out, and there's a weight on top of him. Something warm, something familiar.
Something with a lot of hair.
Oh.
"... You know, most people walk."
no subject
It was still.
Though she was still breathing fast and hard, that slowed somewhat as she visibly drooped with a shaky exhalation of relief. Whew... Way too close.
And then she heard a very familiar voice, spoken in a very familiar tone. Yang dragged her head around to stare down at the person she'd landed on, and if her eyes weren't so wide already, they might have registered the surprise she actually felt.
"Mercury...?"
What was he doing here of all places? She would have thought Attleton was the last place he wanted to be, yet here he was, right in front of the gate.
"What..." She dropped her head as she panted, her fingers clutching a little tighter at his shirt as she gulped down another ragged breath of air. "Wh-what are you doing here?"
No return volley of his sarcasm this time. And she would get off of him in a second.
...Or several seconds. Once she got her heart out of her throat.
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Weiss had told him to be blunt about it next time they spoke, to just say it - he likes her. He could just do that, admit he was worried about her, confess to all the stupid, mushy shit that he thought he'd only ever mock and never partake of... but he can't. The words clog up his throat and he's forced to clear it, propping himself up on his elbows with a shrug.
"I was taking a stroll, but out of the two of us I think 'what are you doing' is really something I should be asking you."
He narrows his eyes.
"The hell were you doing in Attleton?"
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Her gaze skated to the hand that still knotted his shirt, and she forced her fingers to unclench and release him.
"My job," she answered. "Someone had to go after him. So I went for it."
Instead of rising to her feet, Yang opted to roll to the side instead, leaning forward onto her knees and letting her head fall forward so she could catch her breath.
She didn't ask him why he was so mad about it, since she had a pretty good idea. There was a reason she hadn't gone out of her way to tell him what she was doing. Had he managed to figure it out anyway, and moved to stop her? Wait for her? ...Even go after her? Yang wasn't entirely sure, so she sat firmly on her assumptions for now.
Her thigh was stinging more fiercely now. She cracked open an eye to look at her injury. It wasn't deep...which was probably why it hurt like a paper cut instead of the steady throbbing pain of a much deeper slash.
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Is what he wants to say, what he very nearly does, but he bites it down as he pushes himself up to a kneeling position, resting on one knee as he dusts himself off. He's glad she's alright, but damn if he isn't annoyed that she went somewhere he couldn't follow. And damn if he isn't annoyed at the fact that it annoys him so much. What happened to the unflappable Mercury Black? What happened to "can't irk the Merc"?
What did she do to him?
He turns his head to look at her, following her gaze to the wound on her leg. "Guess it didn't go one hundred percent smooth, huh?"
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In retrospect, she should have been looking for something like that. A normal creepy dude wearing a pumpkin wasn't exactly subtle. If he was assaulting that many people, he had to have a trick up his sleeve to manage it for so long without getting a smackdown himself.
She'd...get up later. Her legs still felt like gelatin and she wasn't sure they'd support her just yet. For now she just wanted to feel the cool air on her sweat-dampened skin.
"Sorry I ruined your stroll."
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He doesn't say anything for a moment, but in his head the pieces are coming together. She was clearly panicked when she came flying out of the portal, so she was running from something. She was out of breath, her disposition screamed "shaken", and she had a slice on her leg that looks like it came from a blade.
Knowing what he knows, he can pretty well assume what she encountered while she was in there.
"I'm a little surprised you did, though."
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Not that anyone could blame him. Her dad had put it best: she was reckless. Predictable. The type of person that barreled right for an enemy expecting to win with the straightforward approach. It was something she was trying to fix.
"Took a fear dispelling potion. Tested it out yesterday to make sure it worked, and it did. Just...wound up taking a little longer to put the guy away than I would have liked."
She looked back at the archway, then sighed. So much for the motorcycle Mikaela worked so hard to fix.
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It's hard to tell whether he sounds frustrated or concerned. Okay, no, he definitely sounds frustrated, but the nature of his frown, the way his eyes are aimed down towards the ground instead of glaring at her isn't the hardest thing to read.
"I know who you saw, and from the way you blew out of that portal I have a feeling how close you cut it. You seriously could have died."
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She was starting to get her breathing under better control. She lifted her head to look at him, her face serious...but paused when she saw he wasn't even meeting her eyes.
"Mercury, I'm a huntress. That's always going to be a possibility, whether I'm hunting Grimm, or bounties, or even just going toe to toe with the things roaming around out here at night." Which, surprisingly, were wise enough to stay away for the time being. "I'm strong enough to do it. Not invincible, but I'm definitely better suited for it than a lot of others are. What's more, I knew what I would be up against. Not everyone had that advantage."
She leaned over her knees, holding her forehead in her hand as she closed her eyes and frowned.
"I'm not going to hold back because I'm scared. I can't, and I won't."
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His hand balls into a fist, knuckles against the ground, and he leans some weight into it until it hurts. It helps him focus, keeps him from going off on a tangent that he can't quite explain, and after a moment he takes a long, heavy breath, shaking his head.
"I don't know."
He pushes himself to his feet, brushing the dirt off his knees, his back (as best he can), straightening up his jacket with a scowl.
"I don't like it."
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Yang's aura glowed warm, erasing the thin line of crimson on her thigh. With one more slow exhalation of breath, she shifted herself onto one knee, braced her palm against it, and stood.
Tried to, anyway. She couldn't quite get more than an inch off the ground, and that frustrated her. Damn it, get up!
"You don't have to. We're friends, you're worried. I get it." She snarled silently at herself and pushed again, her movements slow and shaky, but she got her feet back underneath her. "And I can't tell you not to be worried. So I don't have any good answers. But...I'm sorry you don't like it. I know how you feel about this place."
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Maybe he's mad at himself. She could face her fear, or at least conjure a plan to avoid it without avoiding the place it calls home. He couldn't even build up the guts to put his foot through the portal.
He's not used to being scared, for himself or for someone else. It's been a long, long time.
"Whatever. It's fine. It's done now, anyway." A pause. "You heading home, now?"
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"But hey, good luck with your stroll, stay safe and all that." As if she needed to tell him that.
Even so, his body language seemed to indicate that he was closing up and probably wanted to be left alone for a while.
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He shifts his weight from one leg to the other, head tilting back to look up at the sky.
"This city might not be my jurisdiction, but I'd probably be a shitty guardian if I didn't escort you back to your place."
A pause, his head turning to look at her - he still might not have his usual spark about him, but there's at least some dull sort of amusement in his gaze.
"Right?"
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For a moment she blinked at him, as if trying to digest his words. But the longer she stood, the stronger her smile grew. "I wouldn't say that. You're one of my favorites. Top five, at least."
And honestly? As much as she wanted to relax, being alone was probably the last thing she wanted or needed right now. She inclined her head once, glad to accept the offer. At least until they got to her doorstep. Maybe by then she would have pulled herself together to weather the rest of the night.
She held her hand out to his elbow, a little twinkle in her eyes. If he was going to be an escort, might as well do it the gentlemanly way!
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With a pattern of snark established it's easy to ignore the sour mood that's trying to take hold, the familiar system of banter overriding the unfamiliar sense of doubt. He's eager for it, a little desperate almost, so he doesn't put up much resistance to the idea of looping his elbow with hers. None, really, and they're linked before you know it.
"Don't worry. We'll work on your attitude."
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But she could enjoy walking side by side with him like this. Might even get used to it if he was insane enough to let it keep happening in the future.
"Why, is that one of your turn-ons? Gushing flattery and fainting?"
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...
"You know."
And there's plenty more where that came from, Yang. Are you sure you want this walk. Are you really. Really. Sure.
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Really, she shouldn't have. That's what prompted their little fight a few days ago. Perhaps he could consider it an olive branch of sorts, a quiet promise to try not to get so wound up about the matter in the future.
Because she really did want this walk, even more than ice cream. Present company included.
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"Well, stroking my hair is fine. Yours, though..."
... and the Mercury way.
"... means too much to you, so I wouldn't screw with it."
... and the Mercury way slightly flavored by the Weiss way.
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There was real warmth in her smile now, and just a hint of relief as she let herself relax. It was a nice feeling, not to have to be so defensive over her greatest vanity.
"I appreciate that," she nodded, giving his elbow a squeeze.
They walked half a block as Yang mulled over her thoughts. Her head bent for a moment, then shefinally ventured, "But if you promised not to screw with it...maybe I could change my mind."
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There's the real Mercury. He's still there.
A few more steps, before he turns to look at her, his tone quizzical. "Change your mind about what, though?"
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It was an offer she'd never made to anyone else. Not the boys she'd flirted with, not her teammates... even her dad would have his hand playfully swatted away.
But she didn't tell him this. If he didn't know, she couldn't get mad at him the way she had over that abomination of a rubber band.
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"... Are you serious?"
Sometimes it's worth asking the question on the top of your mind, okay.
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He hadn't admitted anything, and she knew better than to ask, but she was 99% convinced he wasn't hanging out in front of Attleton's gate at night just because he felt like going for a walk on some whim.
"I know I've got some serious issues. Thanks for sticking with me anyway."
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He grins a little, tugging on her arm to draw her a bit closer. She's warm, as she always is, and the night's a little chilly. He appreciates it, alright?
"You've forgiven me for way worse than abruptly ending a call. I'm pretty sure I can let you slide on this."
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Her hand...
Once again, she entertained another silent debate. Sometimes it was worth testing her boundaries with him. Sometimes he shot her down. Yang weighed the alternatives thoughtfully in her mind, and decided that if he didn't go for it? She wouldn't mind. And if he did...
Slowly she relaxed her grip on his arm, but she didn't let go. Instead her fingers coasted down to his wrist, over his palm, and she lightly grasped his hand in hers.
"Thank you."
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Why is it simultaneously so relieving and so terrifying to feel her hand close around his?
His hand doesn't react immediately, but after a moment his fingers slowly, carefully, wrap around hers, like they aren't quite sure how this works.
"Anytime."
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She wondered if he had any idea just how much she'd needed this right now.
Once she was sure that he wasn't about to shake her off, her fingers wrapped around the edge of his palm with a firm squeeze. And she didn't let go.
For the rest of the walk, she had nothing to say, and the silence was oddly comfortable. She listened to the sound of his steps, passing from pool to pool of light cast by the street lamps. ...And the occasional monster. Her steps slowed as they reached the walk that led to the house she'd been staying in, as if she could stretch this moment out a little longer. But, eventually, she reached the front steps.
"...I invited Gwen over for video games tonight. I think she might give you a run for your money." She smiled at him, arching her brows. Honestly she had no idea what his plans were for the rest of the night. He might not want to stick around for two girls doing girl things and chatting girl talk. But if he wasn't ready to say good night just yet...
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But gods, he's a selfish thing.
He expects her to let go and inform him that she's going to go crash for about sixty hours, so her wording throws him for a moment. She might give him a run for his money? It sounded an awful lot like an invitation to try and prove her wrong, and he's tempted, so tempted, to go for it. But he doesn't really feel like meeting someone new tonight, and he's not in a sharing mood for Yang's attention. Again, he's a selfish thing.
"Well, one day we'll settle that once and for all. I've got some things to take care of, though." He shrugs, almost apologetically. "Another night, maybe."
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Well...maybe just a little disappointed. But she was fairly vulnerable right now, so perhaps it was for the best. He wasn't going to escape Gwen forever, though, not when they'd already made plans to be roommates.
"Another night," she agreed.
She looked down at their joined hands, and resisting the urge to sigh, she let go of his fingers. In exchange, she grasped his shoulder and leaned forward. Her lips lightly grazed his cheek.
"Have a good night, Mercury. Call me later. Okay?" And maybe...maybe...she wouldn't hang up on him this time.