Blake stepped onto the grassy plain, her eyes checking the roofs and trees for the glint of a sniper. The sun was beginning to set, and a cool breeze had picked up. She considered wearing a jacket, but none of hers was very comfortable.
That was a lie. They were the most comfortable thing she had ever worn. However, every time she touched them, she felt like she was wearing someone else's clothes. They fit nice, but were almost gaudy in their design, zippers off to the side, a large, nearly glowing decal plastered to the front.
She dearly hoped that Yang had chosen them, because she wasn't certain what to do if she had done it.
Shaking her head, she looked up to see Weiss standing in the middle of the field, back straight, sword out. There was a soft glow from in front of her, but Blake couldn't see what it was.
She came up behind her, not bothering to keep quiet. Weiss turned and gave her a quick look, but didn't speak. Her focus remained almost entirely on whatever she was doing.
Blake leaned over her shoulder and saw a peculiar looking glyph. It was pulsating, seemingly, in time with Weiss's heart.
A few minutes later, Weiss's concentration broke.
"I thought you would have been gone by now," she said, flicking her sword to the ground.
"Soon, Yang had something she wanted to do." Blake glanced at her sword. "What exactly were you doing here?"
Weiss sighed, and stabbed her sword into the ground. She had a thin sheen of sweat, and her shoes were streaked with green.
"Did you see the battle between Qrow and my sister?" she asked.
"I saw a video of it, why?"
"Do you remember my sister summoning those birds?"
"…Yes?"
"I'm trying to do that, but it's not…" She picked up her sword and pointed it forwards. The glyph reappeared, smaller and seemingly more unstable. "Working!"
"Why are you trying to do your sisters semblance?" Blake asked, crossing her arms. It was beginning to grow colder.
"The Schnee family all have…" Her grip on her weapon grew tighter. "The same or very close to the same, semblance. We're… special in that way."
Blake walked over to her side and put a hand on her shoulder. The sparks that occurred whenever she and Yang touched didn't happen, but the way Weiss's shoulders relaxed seemed far too extreme for a simple touch.
"I think I've heard of that before," she said. "Although it was less… complimentary."
WeissWeiss frowned, and turned her head. "What do you mean?"
"Just a saying that I heard in the White Fang. 'Fight one Schnee, you've fought them all.'" The bitterness in her voice surprised even herself, and she found herself fighting to keep a growl from getting out.
Weiss, surprisingly, smiled. "It's not completely wrong. We do tend to have similar fighting styles." She let out a sigh. "Which is why I'm trying to get this to work."
Blake stared at the odd glyph on the ground, noting the swords cutting through to the edge. The harder she looked the more odd details she could see. This glyph was vastly different from Weiss's regular types, the only commonality seemingly being a small snow flake near the center.
"I did it once," Weiss said suddenly, breaking Blake out of her observations. "During the battle, I managed to create a sword."
A wistful smile came onto her lips. "I cut a Paladin into pieces with it."
Blake felt her jaw drop. She remembered how much damage the robot they fought had taken, and that was a prototype.
Weiss noticed her surprise, and smirked.
Blake cleared her throat. "Made any progress?"
Weiss sighed. "Some. I'm closer than I was before. I can… feel something." She spread out both her hands, staring at them like they contained the secrets she was looking for.
"Maybe try thinking about what you want it to do, instead of just trying to create it," Blake suggested.
Weiss gave her a look. "I suppose I could… are you speaking from experience?"
"Of a sort. It's how I make my copy's do anything beyond standing still," Blake explained.
Weiss smiled at her. "Then I will try that. Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Weiss suddenly laughed. "It's incredible. I did it the first time because I was trying to protect Velvet, and now I'm getting tips from a former White Fang member." She wiped away a tear. "Imagine what my father would say!"
Blake grinned. "He'd probably disown you."
"Or make me the new face of public relations."
"I'm sure you'd love that."
"Har har."
Blake started laughing, and soon Weiss joined her. She was sure they both looked like idiots, but it didn't matter.
They were friends having fun. Nothing more, nothing less.
"Aw, did I miss the punchline?"
Blake spun her head around. Yang was standing a short distance away, a smirk plastered on her lips. She heard Weiss stop and shoot behind her, and the ruffling of fabric as she straightened out her shirt.
"There was no punchline, you brute. Blake was just assisting me with my training." Weiss said.
Blake snickered, and walked to Yang's side. "Time to go?"
Yang nodded.
"Alright then. I guess I'm off." She turned to Weiss. "Good luck with your training."
"And to you as well," Weiss said. There seemed to be more on her mind, but she hesitated.
Blake was about to ask what was wrong when she suddenly was wrapped up in her teammates arms. Her grip was surprisingly strong. It wasn't to Yang levels of course, but it was still surprisingly strong from her diminutive form.
"Be safe," she heard before Weiss pulled back. Her mouth was still set in a soft grin.
To say Blake was shocked was like saying that fire is warm. Since meeting her, the closest she had ever seen Weiss get to another person was, well, that night, and that was Ruby, not some faunus who could ruin—
"Can I get a hug?" Yang asked, mimicking Ruby's voice. Weiss rolled her eyes, but to the continued surprise of everyone ever, complied. When she pulled away, Yang continued to stare at her with a stunned expression.
Weiss noticed. "What?"
Yang quickly shook her head. "Nothing! It's just… I don't think I've ever seen you do that before. Like, ever."
"What, show affection?"
"Yeah."
Weiss glared at her.
"And…" Yang's hand went to her neck, her face suddenly stoplight red. "Your face was kinda… on my chest."
Blake didn't think it was possible for someone's skin to turn so colourless.
Nor did she think it was possible for someone to move so quickly, and jab a sword under Yang's chin.
"Don't you dare tell anyone!" Weiss hissed.
Yang snorted. "Relax princess, it happens. Besides, what are you going to do, stab me?"
Weiss's smirk would've reduced even the mightiest to tears. "No, but I happen to know where to get a very strong hair dye.
Yang's eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't dare."
"Try me."
Before Yang could smash Weiss's face in, Blake grabbed her arm and pulled. "Bye Weiss!"
"Goodbye Blake." Her eyes met Yang's. She smirked. "Pink, perhaps?"
Yang didn't say anything. She didn't scream, or fight, or even breathe any heavier. She simply stared at Weiss, and promised pain.
Paling, Weiss silently turned and pulled out her sword. Blake could hear her start practicing again, as if to say, "I will leave you alone now."
Yang's parting look seemed far too serious for something so minor.
"Well!" She clapped, her energy returning. "Let's get going then, shall we?"
"I'm still surprised you knew this place," Blake said, sipping her water. She was seated across from Yang at a small table within the Rosefeld restaurant, having arrived there mere minutes before. From her seat, she could see out the large window at the front of the building. There wasn't much outside, this close to the wall few people wanted to risk living here.
The restaurant itself wasn't much better really. The paint was peeling, the tables looked hundreds of years old, and the seats seemed to be built out of pure splinters. As far as first date locations went, it honestly sucked.
Blake rammed her head against the table.
"Now you've got me saying it," she muttered.
"Saying what?"
She lifted her eyes to stare at Yang. "Calling this a date."
"…It isn't?"
"No, it's not. I just met her yesterday!"
Yang sipped her water. "I've had dates like that."
Blake leaned forward, puzzled. "Really? Why?"
Yang shrugged. "To get to know the person. Usually a free meal or a movie or something, and it's fun."
"I prefer to know the person before any kind of romance." Blake drained the rest of her glass. The water tasted… metallic, and stale. She brushed it off, probably just old plumbing.
"Speaking of which, where is she?" Yang pulled out her scroll. Blake would've looked at the clock, but she wasn't sure it was actually working. "It's almost seven; I kinda thought she would have been here by now."
"She probably just got held up." As she was saying this, Blake noticed that the restaurant, fairly full when they had first arrived, was beginning to clear out.
"Maybe." Yang frowned. "I swear, if she stood you up…"
"Not a date!"
"Didn't say it was." She tried to take a sip out of her glass, but nothing more than a drop came out.
"Great. Hey, waiter!" she called. "Could use a refill!"
No one came. Blake could hear movement in the kitchen.
"They're probably busy," she said.
Yang stared at the kitchen doors. The grip on her glass was far tighter that it had to be; Blake was worried she was about to break it.
To keep her from doing so, she quickly asked, "How did the thing with Ozpin go?"
Yang let go of her drink and sighed. "Fine. I'm not going to be arrested or anything."
Blake smiled. "That's good."
"Is it?" Yang asked, glaring at her glass.
"He shoved me into an anger management class, so there's that too. And…"
She leaned backwards, crossed her arms, and frowned. Her gaze still rested on her reflective glass.
"He knows something's up. With us, I mean, with what we've been doing." She groaned and covered her face. "With the time travel stuff, I mean. God that sounded wrong."
Despite the seriousness of the issue, Blake couldn't help but chuckle.
Yang smirked. "Ha ha, laugh it up."
Coughing twice, Blake asked, "What did he say? How much does he know?"
"I'm not sure," Yang admitted. "He didn't really say much, just kinda… implied it."
"Great," Blake muttered. "We'll just put him on the list of people we need to keep an eye on…"
The door opened with a shrill ring. Both huntresses turned towards the door. Standing in the doorway was Viola, wearing a pair of thick shades. Her coat was lime green, and seemed to shimmer in the setting sun.
"Sorry I'm late," she said as peeled off her coat. "I ran into some traffic on the way."
"It's okay," Blake assured her.
Viola grinned, and sat down next to Yang. She turned to her. "Who's this?"
"This is-"
"Yang." She stuck out her hand. "Nice to meet you."
"And a pleasure to meet you," Viola replied, grasping her hand within a strong grip. Yang, not one to be shown up, squeezed back just as hard.
She wasn't quite what she was expecting. From Blake's tale, she was expecting someone small, in need of defending, but that wasn't the person in front of her. Yeah, she was shorter than she was, but only by an inch or two. There was visible muscle under every inch of skin, and her golden eyes were alert and wary.
She was a fighter, no doubt about that.
Letting go of her hand, Viola said, "Not that I mind, but I thought it would just be the two of us?"
The first thing Yang wanted to say was, "why"? Why did she care? Thankfully for her and her friend, she held her tongue, and instead said, "Yeah, sorry about that. Blake told me about you, and... You sound like a really cool person, so..."
Viola stared at her, her eyes searching for something. She looked at her head, her ears, and walked around her to look at her back. Yang felt like a piece of meat being inspected before slaughter.
"Uh... what are you doing?"
"You're a human, aren't you?"
Yang glanced at Blake, who was shooting her an apologetic look, and Viola a nasty glare. Despite her behavior, Yang didn't feel any animosity towards the girl—yet. She had an excuse after all.
Although if she kept doing it, Viola would be finding herself on the receiving end of a haymaker.
"Yes, I am. Is that a problem?"
Viola stepped back. "No, I'm just surprised." She turned to Blake. "Have you ordered yet?"
"No, haven't even been able to find a waiter."
"What?" Viola laughed. "That's ridiculous!" She cupped her hands around her mouth, and shouted, "Hello! Could we get some service out here?"
"No one's going to come," Yang grumbled, before two well-dressed men came out of the kitchen doors. They carried menus and jugs of water, and within seconds their glasses were refilled and their places set.
"I suggest the soup. They make excellent seafood chowder, although their chicken is good too, and they-" Viola prattled on, suggesting dish after dish. Yang began wondering if she thought they were black holes.
"So! Viola," Yang interrupted her speech. "Blake mentioned you were a reporter, right? What exactly do you report on?"
For the briefest of moments, Viola's face grew cold. Yang blinked, and by the time her eyelids opened, the look was gone.
"Mostly Grimm movements, small town's celebrations, things like that." She shrugged. "It's really nothing special."
"Grimm movements? People track that?" Blake asked, setting down her now full glass.
Viola gave a nod. "Yeah, it's not real reporting, but it pays the bills. Danger pay is always good for that."
She took a sip of her water, and then turned to her and asked, "So you go to school with Blakey here?"
For some reason, the nickname irked the blond huntress. Not enough to make her angry, but enough that she was fighting a scowl. "Yeah, I'm in her team. The Y in RWBY."
"RWBY?" She scrunched her forehead. "Never heard of it."
"We've only been around for a week."
Viola nodded, and stretched out her arms. Her wings flared out, allowing Yang to get her first real look at them.
Blake's description of flying squirrel fit perfectly. They were a little darker, and a lot less furry, but stretched out from her sides to her wrists. She could see veins criss-crossing the surface, and the blood moving within them.
She could also see her pits, and her bra, but she didn't bring that up.
"So, R, U—"
"W," Blake corrected. "For Weiss."
"Right, right, of course, and then…" She pointed at Blake, and then Yang. "B and Y, correct?"
Blake nodded.
"Ha! Knew I could get it!" She pumped her fist. Yang thought it looked a tad ridiculous, but she remembered doing it herself.
Although she made it look cool.
"So, how long have you known Yang?" Viola asked Blake.
"A few…" Blake froze briefly, just short enough to avoid arousing suspicion. "A few years. We, uh… met during a Grimm attack."
"Sounds exciting!"
"Yeah, well…" She raised her glass to her lips. "Been through so many it's… almost like it never happened."
Viola gave her a strange look, and Blake hurriedly started sipping at her glass. Gradually her gaze shifted to Yang.
"So… are your other friends coming, or is are we sticking with a threesome?"
Blake coughed violently, spraying water on the table.
"Um, no, it's just us. Bumblebee and the bat." Yang replied.
Viola smirked at her. "Just checking." A pop song suddenly sounded out from her pocket. She pulled her scroll out.
"Oh man, I'm sorry; I've got to take this."
"Don't worry about it," Blake assured.
Smiling, Viola walked off and brought the device to her ear.
Yang leaned forward. "Why didn't you tell me she was funny?"
"She made one joke last time!"
Yang shook her head. "Man, I've missed so many puns. You wouldn't even believe how many."
Blake's retort was cut off when Viola walked back. She was frowning, and her whole body seemed to have slumped.
"I'm sorry you two, I've just been called in. Apparently, they need me for a story. I would really like to stay, but I can't miss this."
"It's fine, we understand," Blake told her, although Yang could clearly see the sadness in the lines of her face.
Viola gave her a strained smile. "Thanks Blakey." She looked at them both. "I'll try to talk to later, alright?"
"Sure, sure." Yang waved. "Don't worry about it; just go do what you got to do."
"Don't worry, I will." With that, she walked out the door. They both turned to watch her. The sun had set by now, the only illumination for her retreating backside was the streetlights.
It was a good backside.
Yang turned to Blake. "She seemed nice."
"Don't think she's a criminal anymore?"
"I never really thought that. I'm just being cautious!"
"Sure you were." Blake smirked.
Yang shook her head. She was standing up to go to the bathroom when she noticed a coat still hanging on the chair.
"Is that hers?" she asked, pointing eat the offending article of clothing.
Blake picked it up. "It is." She looked out the window. "I hope she's still… do you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
She brought her ear to the coat, holding up a hand to silence her.
eSuddenly her eyes grew to planet size, and she jerked her head away from the coat.
"GET DOWN!" she yelled, and threw it towards the window.
You learn many things in your first year at Signal. How to use your aura, how to train, how not to kill people when you hit them, and when someone says "Get down," or "Take Cover," you do it. So before the coat had passed over her head, Yang was under the table, curled up into a ball. She heard Blake land beside her in much the same position.
Briefly spreading her arms, she risked a glance.
Then everything went red.
Pain.
Pain is the first feeling that comes back to her.
She's trapped under something. A rock, a tank, something heavy.
Squirming her arms, she tries to lift the thing off her, but she can't get the limbs to function.
They're trapped.
She's trapped.
The air was hot and almost sickening, but her breathing felt normal. She couldn't see anything, not even her own nose.
Although she can't see that normally, so it doesn't mean much—
Stop it Yang, you're delirious.
Yeah I am, shut it me.
Fantastic, now she's talking to herself.
Might as well get some friends!
She tried to open her mouth to speak, but nothing came. Her tongue felt dry and stiff, her throat raw.
That's what happens when you swallow fire, you Dumbo. Even someone like you.
She couldn't even bring herself to cough.
Where's her aura? Why didn't it protect her?
Wrong kind of fire.
Okay, she certainly didn't know that. Who the hell was there?
Are you sure?
No, of course not. That's why she asked.
Hra ha ha.
Shut up.
Try to move your legs.
She couldn't.
Try harder.
It wasn't working!
Blake's in danger. You want to save her? Get up!
The words struck a bolt of fear through her heart.
Blake was in danger.
Blake was in danger.
The words cleared her clouded mind. She felt her legs and arms twitch, and slowly drew them to her sides. They scraped against the roof and the floor of her personal torture pit, and she could almost feel the blood trailing behind them.
Lifting them up to the object pinning her, she tried to push. The thing shuddered and groaned, and a sprinkle of dirt fell on her face, but it did not move.
Come on! Push!
She couldn't, there was nothing left to push with. What was in that bomb? She was tough, no one could deny that, and yet she felt weaker than a baby.
Blake. Will. Die.
No.
She will if you can't get out of here!
No!
Fueled by fear and anger, Yang slammed her fists into the rubble. Her gauntlets were deployed, and although it was a very short punch, she heard it crack.
Grinning, she continued to pummel it, even as blood trickled down her arm. Plaster, wallpaper, even bits of glass fell down and onto her. Some hurt, opening up small wounds across her body.
Some weren't so small.
With a final roar, she burst through the plaster. Her lungs heaved as she took in the fresh air. The night felt wonderfully cool against her skin, like diving into a pool on a hot summer day.
Yeah yeah, good job. Now get to Blake!
Legs shaking, stomach turning, Yang nonetheless found her footing. Slowly she put a foot forward, wincing at the twinge of pain as it hit the ground. Gritting her teeth, she swung another forward, and another.
She didn't know where she was going. Her mind and her legs were operating on separate systems. All she knew was that she had to find her partner. Nothing else mattered.
Nothing.
Her body stopped in front of an overturned table. Peeking out from its surface was a few solitary strands of black hair. Yang fell to her knees and started pulling at the table. Her arms felt like overcooked pasta, but she didn't stop.
With a groan, the table shifted. Yang tossed it off to the side, and stared at the crushed form of her partner. She was alive, indicated solely by the gentle rise and fall of her chest, but her skin was marred by the dozens of bloody scratches covering its surface.
Yang wants to say something, try to wake her up, but she can't get her throat to form the words. All she can manage is a raspy, "No…"
Gently, she grabs Blake left hand. It's undamaged by the flame, but still and motionless. She can't feel a pulse.
The sparks come, as they always do. But this time Yang isn't content to let it happen. She needs to save her, needs this odd connection to do the one thing it's good for.
Lrast time was worse, she remembers. Blake seemed like little more than a shadow, bleeding to death in the alley. The emotions that are dragged up, the pain, the fear, the sadness, they're the same.
Rather than ignore them, or try to supress them, Yang sinks herself into them. She lets herself be consumed by the darkness, all so that she can save the light.
She can feel her throat healing as she said, "Come on Blake. Get up. Get up!" so she knows it's working. Her many wounds heal up before her eyes, but she doesn't stir.
Dimly, she's aware of the crunching footsteps behind her. The muffled voices; the clicking and clacking of guns being armed. If she doesn't move, she will be shot.
The thought scares her less than she expected, but then she realises that if she's shot, then Blake would be next. Placing her hand under her partners head, she lifted Blake up. By now, Yang could feel her strength returning, and Blake's weight is little more than a minor inconvenience.
She looked at the destroyed dining room for a safe place to hide. The collapsed upper stories had created a maze of shattered walls and broken pipes, but none are hidden enough to fulfill her needs.
Finally, her eyes land on the kitchen doors. They're mostly intact, the whole wall is, and Yang can see the faint flickering of an exit sign. She's uncertain if it's safe, but there's no doubt that it's better than out here.
"Come on, I can hear something over here," someone from behind her said. Yang quickly ran to the kitchen, quietly and yet quickly rushing through the doors. She can hear the footsteps pick up the pace, but even with advanced hearing, it would take them a few minutes to actually find her.
She sets Blake down on the floor near the exit, shifting her hands to her shoulders. She looks almost flawless by now, the only injuries left clearly being internal.
Yang, on the other hand, is beginning to feel like… the only way to describe it is like a microwaved burrito, but that doesn't really describe it. Her skin, muscles, and even bone feel tingly, like pins and needles but a thousand times worse. Or better, she's not sure anymore.
Despite the feeling, she carries on. This is the only way to save Blake, so she'll do it. No questions asked.
Her determination is rewarded when two amber eyes flicker open. "Yang?"
Grinning like Ruby with a plate of brownies, Yang enveloped the black-haired girl in a crushing hug, ignoring Blake's protests.
"What happened?" Blake asked the moment Yang pulled away.
"She tried to kill us." Yang felt her joy slip away, replaced by the ever familiar feeling of pure rage. "eThat—that bitch tried to kill you, and me!"
Blake covered her mouth. "Keep your voice down!" she whispered, but it's too late.
"They're still alive!"
"You fucking with me? How?"
"Does it matter? Call it in!"
"Yes sir!"
Yang glanced at the exit sign. "We need to move, can you walk?"
Blake got to her feet, a little wobbly, but much better than Yang had.
"I can do more than that." She pulled out her sword, the black metal gleaming in the dark night. "Let's go—"
"IN HERE! OPEN FIRE!"
The room filled with hundreds of bullets as the man's rifle roared to life. Yang jumped to the counter, weapons armed, and threw a blast towards her attacker. It hit him square in the jaw, sending his head straight into the wall. A cloud of dust fell, but no blood.
"Blake!" Yang called. "Blake! You okay!?"
"I'm fine."
Yang squinted her eyes, barely making out her partners silhouette against the wall. She had found cover behind a bit of broken roof, Gambol shroud held her right hand. It was in pistol mode, aimed straight for the door.
Knowing her partner could hear her, Yang whispered, "Keep them busy, I'm going around the back."
Blake gave her a nod, and Yang slipped through the exit door into the cold night air.
The moon was shattered tonight, spreading across the night sky. It was clear, all the stars easily seen, but she could see clouds rolling in from the west. They were going to have rain soon enough.
Yang hugged the wall, turning the corner with her arms up. She could hear the gunfire from the front of the store as their attackers attempted to take Blake down, but she was giving them a heck of a fight.
Coming to a stop, she peered at the group of soldiers. She counted about eight, all armed with rifles and swords. None of them stood out as some kind of leader, nor did they use any complicated tactics.
They were all White Fang, of course.
Yang narrowed her eyes. There was no way eight (nine) soldiers could take down two huntresses. What were they planning?
Behind them was a dark blue van, likely the vehicle they had arrived in. Its backdoors swung open, and the barrel of a large caliber machine gun poked through.
Oh, that's what they were going to do.
The monster came to life, spewing lead into the building. Shells clattered to the ground all around the truck, anyone too close got a good reminder towards why you didn't.
Blake couldn't survive that onslaught for long.
Yang leapt out of her cover, firing off two shots. The first connected with the cab of the truck, spinning it around to face her. The next smashed into the machine gunner, sending him crashing out the front window.
All the soldiers around her shifted their fire. She felt the bullets hit her, and bounce off. The weapons they were using were clearly low caliber, but there was enough of them to be a threat if she took too many.
A more powerful gunshot echoed from the building, and a familiar pistol flew just past her nose. Yang grabbed the handle and pulled, blocking a sword strike with her other arm.
Blake rocketed out of the front window, landing on an unfortunate soldiers face. Her victim fell to the ground, spitting out teeth.
Yang nimbly stepped to the side, dodging a burst of fire. She threw back her arms and fired, sending her flying towards her attacker. Rolling to a stop, she slammed her fists into his—her stomach, causing her to bend over. The next blow went to her mask, shattering it into a thousand pieces and breaking her nose.
There was blood on her hands, seeping through her fingers. The soldier—the girl, really, lied on the ground whimpering. She had covered her face, trying to keep her nose in one piece. The only part Yang could see were her eyes, staring at her in abject terror.
Closing her eyes, Yang turned around.
Blake ducked under a sword, trapping the blade between her own. Kicking his knees, she twisted her swords and ripped the weapon away. Her attacker, a short man with a small puff of fur for a tail, looked down at his empty hands, and then up to Blake.
She tripped him, and slammed him into the ground.
Another held up his rifle to take a shot at her, but before Blake or the man could react, Yang was grabbing the gun and twisting his wrist. His aura—clearly tougher than the others—held up. Not to be deterred, Yang turned and threw the man over her shoulder. He landed on the ground with a thud.
Then she twisted his arm again.
Hard.
The scream could be heard for miles.
Blake shot Gambol twice, both landing squarely on her targets face. The target, a woman, stumbled back and hissed out a swear. Advancing, Blake slashed her swords across her chest, or would have if the women hadn't pulled out her own sword and blocked.
Blake stepped back, twirling Gambol Shroud around her hands. Her target open her mouth and actually hissed, a forked tongue flickering out between her lips. Not deterred in the slightest, Blake leapt at her, swords cutting through the air fast enough to blur.
Yang would've stepped in to assist, but two soldiers had grabbed her arms just as she tried to move. She tried to squirm her way out, but their grip was too strong.
"Stand down!" One yelled, holding up a gun to her head. "Or she bites it!"
Blake briefly glanced at them, but Yang lightly shook her head.
She could handle this.
Blake nodded, and continued her deadly dance. The soldier next to her tried to yell again, but before he could spit out a letter, Yang rammed the side of her head into his. He fell backwards, landing on his back and letting out a groan of pain.
With her arm free, she fired a shot into her other captives eye. He screamed and let go, bringing up his arms to rub at his eye. With aura, the only damage would be to sight, and even that would be temporary.
The following shots to his private parts were far more permanent.
Yang turned and slammed her foot into the other man's neck. He let out a wet choking sound, and she almost pulled away, afraid that her blow was more damaging than she thought. Then she saw the tears in his eyes.
She snorted. "Sissy."
Dismissing the boy with a final kick to his ribs, Yang turned her attention back to the beautiful display of swordsmanship Blake was engaging in. She and her opponent were locked blade to blade, spinning and leaping over each others blows. This wasn't the rough and tumble fighting Yang was used to, this was art.
The soldier stumbled over one of Blake attacks. Exploiting the opening, Blake struck the hilt of her sword and twisted it, presumably to disarm her opponent. Instead, it split apart, showering both with a fine mist of steel shavings and plastic. Blake stumbled back, clearly disoriented, but her opponent was no better.
And Blake had backup.
"You okay?" Yang asked after she had finished off her opponent. She held out a hand.
Blake took it. "Fine, you?"
Yang grinned. "Good now." She pulled Blake to her feet and examined the battlefield. "Is that all of them?"
Blake shook her head. "I can still hear someone."
"Where?"
She pointed towards the truck, still smoking from Yang's attack. "There."
Nodding, Yang slowly approached the driver side door, Blake taking the other side. She grabbed the door handle, and pulled.
There was a young boy in the seat, clumsily switching between a scroll and a gun. Yang rolled her eyes and launched a jab towards his chin. The top of his head hit the roof and created a dent, and he fell forward onto the steering wheel.
"Is that it?"
Blake nodded, but grabbed the boys scroll and stared at its screen. All the colour in her face vanished.
"What's going on?" Yang asked, shuffling around the truck to her side.
"He called reinforcements."
Yang swallowed a sudden mouthful of spit. "How many?"
That's when she heard the whirring of aircraft.