Hello! This fic was actually written a few weeks ago in my tumblr, as provoked by a dear friend, Ive! [If you're reading this, this is your fault, lol]
Hopefully things will settle down irl so I can actually write new fics. For now, here's a sort-of fluff oneshot of BlackCage!
Cassandra Cage does her regular patrolling in Outworld, to ensure that its alliance to Earthrealm is still intact, but mostly because she needs to get away from her mother's stern hand.
She had been accustomed to the harsh environment of Outworld and its peculiar locals that roam around the vicinity. While she could never understand their customs and their approach towards crime and punishment, (head decapitation for petty theft? Seriously?) she has to remind herself time and again that Outworlders had endured wars that she couldn't imagine, and that they're dealing with their inner-realm conflicts the best way they know how, even if these resolutions contradict her understanding of 'justice'.
She also became more attached to the locals. If you can get past their unusual views on ethics and culture, they are actually very likeable and are inclined to give you their hospitality.
She decided one afternoon to go to the local marketplace. Of all the landmarks she has gone off to in Outworld, the marketplace is the closest thing she can describe as a mall. She always loved the intricate jewelry and clothing that adorn at one part of the huge marketplace. She approached a stall that sells a unique type of hooded poncho. A pale blue one with gold floral motifs that adorn at the hems caught her eye.
"See something you like?"
A voice asked behind her, and before she could turn around to face the man, she already knew who it was.
"Erron black."
"G'Afternoon, Sergeant Cage." He greeted as he tipped his hat to the now agitated woman in front of him. "I know–"
"Know what? You can't just try to kill us one time and try to go all 'friendship is magic' at me on the other."
"It was business, Cage. Nothing personal."
Cassie crossed her arms as she squinted a dirty look at the man before her. "Oh? So how can I be so sure that you're genuinely trying to make a civilized conversation here, and not being paid by some dumbass to kidnap me?"
Knowing he can't win in this argument, he sighed. "I s'pose that can't be disputed." He remembered Cassie staring at that pale blue poncho a while ago. "Weren't you eyeing on that?"
Cassandra cocked an eyebrow at him. "Hmm?" Her gaze returned at the garment she admired earlier. "Oh. Well, it's very nice, I guess."
"Do you want it?"
Cassie's eyes widen in surprise. "Are you serious?"
"I can't blame you if you think I'm joking, but I'm serious. Do you want that?" Erron insisted. "I doubt you have the proper currency to pay for this thing."
"What makes you think I want it that badly?"
"Firstly, you were staring at it–"
"And you observed me long enough to know that? Creep."
"Don't condescend me like that, Cage. Ain't my fault you stand out among the locals here."
That caught her off guard. Now he really ticked her off. "Okay, I know you're on to something, Black. Quit fucking with me."
The gunslinger could do nothing but shake his head slightly. He approached the person who tends the stall and purchases the pale blue poncho Cassie had set her eyes upon moments ago. "Here."
Cassie eyed him suspiciously, and made no move to accept his gift, no matter how tempting it is. "What kind of bullshit are you trying to pull off, Black?"
"Merely compensating for an apology."
"So what you're saying is that apologizing is much harder to do than wasting money on a poncho? And here I am thinking you're a money-hungry piece of shi–"
"Fine, I'm sorry."
There was a short pause before she pursed her lips and stated, "Nope. You have to do more than just say 'sorry' after all you have done."
"But it's a start." He said as he hand out the poncho to her once more.
"Dammit, Black." Giving in to temptation to acquire what held her attention in this damn place, she snatched the garment from his hand. "Fine."
As she took the poncho from him, she could already admire the firm but soft material gliding along her fingers, tracing the hand-stitched gold florals that decorate the hems. "Um, hey, thanks–" When she looked up, she saw him already walking his way out of the marketplace, probably resuming to his own duties.
She wears the pale blue poncho as she makes her way out of the marketplace to find the gunslinger, but at that point he was nowhere to be found. She places the hood over her head. "Hmm, how could this thing be cool to the touch?" She doesn't complain; the Outworld heat is getting into her and whatever magical properties that dispel on the poncho alleviates her discomfort to heat, which is a relief.
She would have to thank Erron the next time she runs into him again. "Damn him for being nice."