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...