being called while she was in the middle of a shower was definitely the new number one on maka's list of 'why me'.
so a bit of spluttering and water splashing later she was seated on her toilet soaking wet and wrapped in a towel all in front of Lord death, her boss.
he couldn't have looked more amused she on the other hand was redder than a fire truck and, yeah still half naked.
he briefed her quickly on her mission and wished her better luck for the night.
she had to blow dry her hair, just lucky that she was almost finished and not covered in soap as she so easily could gave been.
she exchanged her towel for her battle armor, thanking God once again for whoever developed the science behind stretchy tights that could take a bullet, and tied her hair up as best she could while fighting her cursed curls. no time to straighten her hair.
her coat was slipped on and her mask stuffed into her purse to keep the neighbors from recognizing her.
a block from the meet site she slipped her mask from her bag and tied it behind her head.
the dense plastic a simple white with dark lines acting as fake cracks running across from chin to temple. dark rings surrounded her eyes and a single vine ran across the right side thin with tiny green leaves.
she had sketched it absent mindedly the night before they were required to make masks before meeting their partner candidates. she was lucky to have the sketch with her.
soul on the other hand had gone a bit simpler leaving his mask entirely blank. nothing but white hair and plastic to frame his burning red eyes.
the sight was intimidating and striking. though he lost a bit of credit when he opened his mouth. the scary monster front replaced by a distinct feeling that she had just been left to babysit a middle school kid with no promise of payment.
but she couldn't complain to much. at least she wasn't stuck with blackstar. poor Camellia. from what maka hears they're together inside and out of the mask, which is technically against the rules but hey shes a teachers pet not a snitch.
besides it seemed like she was the only one who fallowed that rule anymore. her parents had been partners for God sakes.
she just wasn't dumb enough to make their mistakes. ninety percent of people chose their soulmate. who wouldn't really, they are literally the soul chosen to complete yours.
but maka just wasn't good at relationships. of any kind really. outside of college work and her regular bookstore and coffee shop she doesn't commit to anything.
people just weren't reliable. not in the way she needed them to be. post cards and rent checks didn't count.
but her parents really didn't count for anything. least of all as real parents.
and really its just easier to live alone. with the exception of a furry purple stray who seemed to be more a community pet than anything. maka had seen the little puff ball slinking her way from several apartment windows, café doors, and fish shops with a smug 'I just got fed' look.
she was kind of the neighborhood pet. no one knew who she belong to originally but the little black coller clearly read Blair.
maka climbed her way up the fire escape and over the edge of a redbrick building by the south side square where she was told to meet her partner. he was sitting on the other side of the roof a blank white mask turned towards her in question.
she usually wasn't this late but fighting in the desert at night with wet hair was a death wish and no way was she dying tonight.
"got caught in the shower" she answered his unspoken question and mused her poofy pigtails.
he chuckles but nodded. "Was wondering why you looked like you stuck your finger in an outlet.
" are you ready yet? " she growled. it wasn't her fault on top of everything her father had given her curly hair to struggle with.
he slouched over to her watching as the pout on her face slowly melted off as his soul caressed hers. he was flirting through wavelengths but she was too naive to realize and simply relaxed under the pleasant feeling.
her soul grabbed his not unharshly in a hurry to resonate. it nocked the air out of his lungs but he welcomed the feeling of her taking up space in his head as his body traded flesh for steel.
she flew from rooftop to rooftop scythe staff used to poll vault. she stopped when their resonance finally spread her soul perception wide enough to get a lock on the target.
one Nannie Doss, a woman better known as the black widow, had been charged with the murder of five husbands and thrown in jail. she escaped prison two hours previously and was slotted for dwma execution.
make found the woman in a public restroom chopping her long black hair of with a pair of sewing scissors and attempting to bleach it blonde. the bottle of bleach was thrown at her but deflected easily.
the woman then flew at them scissors clutched in one fist. the consumption of human souls led to her distorted figure. her curves were grossly exaggerated leaving barely a pencils width of waist to hold up her gargantuan breasts and thick hips. her once long hair had been chopped crookedly the left side three feet shorter than the right.
her prison clothes were covered in blood presumably from a latest kill. the consumption of pure souls was as addictive as any drug and three months of cold Turkey was enough to drive most into a killing spree. she didn't even stick to her pattern and marry them first.
maka dogged the woman and threw a blow into her abdomen knocking her back a few steps.
a high pitched screech blew across the space between them as the woman righted herself. scissors in one hand and the other tensed into claws.
she darted towards them body swaying in poorly proportioned weight. maka ducked under the scissors and swiped her blade through the kishin's ankles.
the woman wobbled for a moment after her feet were severed but did not lose balance. instead she jammed the end of her ankle into the cobble stone and attempted to continue the fight.
however the loss of her feet greatly reduced her speed and maka took full advantage and used her scythe to slice a clean line through her midsection separating at the elbows.
the shiny red soul floating indifferently in the puddle of kishin blood was all that's left of the murderer other than an abused pair of sewing scissors.
not the best at writing battle scenes so I tried to leave it vague so you could do what you wanted with it.
