Brent let out a long breath, watching the white cloud disappear into the cold air. Though it was only September, the morning was still cold, whatever sunlight that peeked from the clouds being distant and warmthless. Around the surprisingly well-maintained track field, soldiers did their own laps under the gaze of a sergeant. There were a couple other adults who weren't in uniform either. Probably live-in staff who decided that they might as well keep in shape. Help them run faster if an aberration goes wild and all that.
He had been in the field since 7AM, and, tapping his foot against the grassy ground, the brunette nodded to himself. Just a couple more laps then, too cool down. Then he can go have a big breakfast, go shopping, and figure out a good reason for him to meet this Clark person.
Two hands slapped his cheeks, and Brent rolled his shoulders once more.
"Let's get this done!"It wasn't long after that Emma appeared at the training field. It was uncharacteristically early for Emma, made clear by the coffee cup in her hand and the bags under her eyes. She was about as ‘dressed down’ as she was likely to get, donning only a simple zip hoodie and t-shirt paired with jeans. To be quite frank she wasn’t exactly sure what she was doing here- of course she had come here determined to get stronger, hoping to be of more help the next time she was in battle, but she wasn’t exactly sure what getting ‘stronger’ entailed. Learning to control her Tulpas better? Learning to throw a proper punch? Learning to
take a proper punch?
Probably all of the above, she decided.
Emma bristled slightly when she noticed the boy from yesterday. She was embarrassed that she was unable to keep any semblance of composure at the sight of her comrade's corpses. She prided herself on her ability to save her bullshit for her own time, but she lost it yesterday, she recognized that much.
That’s not to say she wasn’t still in tatters.
Her first inclination was to turn around as soon as she saw him, but she knew that she couldn’t let pettiness get in the way of her resolve. She offered a small wave at him, hoping that he wouldn’t be… angry? Or sympathetic, maybe? Perhaps she more hoped that he wouldn’t
be anything.
Before Brent could properly kick off though, a familiar face waved at him. Small, really, but that face in particular was important. The pretty angry girl from yesterday that slapped Shane because she was too useless to protect her friends herself, was it? The one that was dislikeable in any way other than her decision? The one that he had been planning on looking for?
Well, it was definitely lucky then, that she found him before he found her.
Returning the wave, Brent called out with his usual smile, "Morning there, didn't think you were the sporty type!"
Emma returned Brent’s smile, but there was a hint of hesitation in her face.
”Good morning… no, not really, but… I figured I should get tougher if we’re going to have to be fighting. If I get tougher we won’t have to worry about people dying, right?” Her smile turned to a frown.
”Anyways… I’m, uh, sorry about yesterday, alright? I wasn’t really… I wasn’t being fair to you or Shane, and I acted like an idiot. I just wanted to think I was doing the right thing.” She’d been thinking about what to say since last night, and she still thought the words coming out of her mouth sounded stupid.
Tougher? Brent cocked an eyebrow at that, trying to recall what it was that she even did. Wasn't she the one that controlled those puppet-monsters? Not the one that was getting pingponged constantly by a giant scorpion?
"Tougher? Uh...don't think that'd be very useful. I wasn't down on the field myself, but I'm pretty certain that natural human resilience isn't going to be too great against Mr. I-Level-City-Blocks-Casually."Before he could continue on that particular line of thought though, the girl segued into a different topic, that of an apology, and all the brunette did was shrug.
"Yeah, no problems. You're better off apologizing to Shane than me, really. I don't care either way. Anyways, dead bodies, asked some questions and it turns out they bring them underground. Someone called Clark, lives in 221, knows more."He started jogging on the spot.
"Dunno if it's A or B though, but I was gonna go check that out in the evening. Wanna come along?"The boy started jogging with no warning. She called out after him,
”Y-yeah! Okay!” And he was off. But really what exactly did sending them ‘underground’ mean? And who could Clark be? Emma felt like she was getting wrapped up into some sort of conspiracy plot. But he did have a point, both about Shane and how she should be training. Her mental to-do list was reevaluated.
I still don’t even know his name, do I? She sighed as she watched Brent make his way down the track.
Marcus made his way to the track, a new hoodie pulled over his head, and a small drink in his hand. He congratulated himself on running out immediately and getting clothes, rather than wandering around the campus their first day in; the slight chill in the air seemed to be a warning as to what would have happened had he not. He didn't congratulate himself for not getting grocery supplies though, and the shitty vending-machine frappuccino was his reward for that lack of planning. Still, he hoped it would do its job and keep him awake; the previous night had not left him very well rested, and the slight bags under his eyes attested to that.
He'd woken up and slipped out of the room with the intention of making it down to the track and trying out his new...'power'. Something had happened on the battlefield when Lily threw the grenade at him, and he had every intention of trying to make it work again, just as he had spent some time practicing his rewind when he first got it. Of course, there was the matter of his decidely-not-chestnut ankle bracelet. He'd pondered his way around that one, not wanting to risk the electrical taze that had been previously mentioned, before he just decided to ask someone. A few moments later, he'd been cleared for practice and directed to the USARILN Track and Field, based on the fact that he'd be doing glorified running.
And it seemed like he wasn't the only one who'd decided to make their way over to the track for practice. Beside the numerous people who Marcus assumed to be staff and assorted personell, there were a few vaguely familiar faces to be found. He'd just tossed his empty bottle and was preparing to shout some form of greeting when a loud cacophany rang out from the bleachers.
"Hey... hey you." Kusari looked down at Callan, who had managed to fall asleep at the track field. She had been thinking of talking to her for hours, but now she was feeling a bit apprehensive. She'd cut her hair to prepare for training last night, only to wake up to find it had grown back to it's full length. The fact that her hair grew in such an annoying manner must have slipped her mind. Instead of cutting it, she had tied her hair back into a ponytail. As for her clothing she had on a plain grey shirt and sweatpants.
"Callan, right? You can't seriously be aslee- HEY!" Callan's awkward sleeping position on the blench turned out to be a bad idea, as she ended up slipping and falling down, hitting her head multiple times in the process. Kusari winced with every loud bang. Well, surely she was awake now.
Callan hadn't woken up at 6 am since... well, she couldn't really remember. In fact, she'd fallen asleep trying to remember why she'd done so that morning a few hours ago. She'd arrived back at her dorm, taken a quick shower, and then fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. She'd awoken to a growling stomach and, after taking care of that problem, going to the track to train had seemed like a better idea than going back to sleep. She ran two miles in 6 minutes before she decided to see if she could jump from the ground to the top of the bleachers. Then she started trying to remember when she last woke up and 6... then she feel asleep... and then....
"You really are tough, I guess you have to be if you're this clumsy." Kusari said. Wait, was that the first thing she'd said to this girl? Classic. Kusari coughed into her hand and started again.
"Callan, right? I'm Kusari. This may seem kinda sudden and weird but uhh." Kusari frowned and looked around, as if someone was going to help her asked this absurd request. She didn't notice, but her altered leg's claws were tapping the ground anxiously.
"I want you to fight me. Fight me and don't hold back. Hit me as hard as you can in fact. I need to get into shape, well we all do really. Oh, and don't worry about hurting me, I'll heal from pretty much anything."Her hood fell down as she smacked the back of her head against the underside of the bench in her rush to get up and see who was talking. She rubbed the back of her head as she listened to the slim white haired girl standing over her-- Kusari.
"
Uh," she looked at Kusari like she was crazy-- and told her so with a disbelieving scoff, "
Sorry, but... are you insane? What do you mean you'll heal from anything? ...You know what my ability is, right?" Her amethyst eyes drifted down to the girls leg and she raised an eyebrow. She'd caught a climpse of that anomaly last night, but now that it was right in front of her face she couldn't tear her eyes away.
Kusari resisted the urge to let out a condescending sigh.
"My eyes are up here seaweed." She said. Kusari was accustomed to strange looks from people but she wasn't going to put up with it from someone that was supposed to be her ally, it'd get old way to fast after all.
"And no, I'm not insane. I had my leg cut off and my throat torn open yesterday, I'm pretty sure I'll be fine."Leg cut off? Throat torn open? Eugh, that sounded unpleasant. Callan considered an apology for staring, but something about Kusari, coupled with her still lingering grogginess, made her feel a little less inclined. Looking at her face this time, Cal gave her a skeptical stare as she mulled over her odd request.
"
Alright," she finally shrugged, getting to her feet, "
If you really want, I guess." Honestly, she was a little curious about how hard she could punch as well. Someone like Kusari presented the perfect opportunity to test that out.
"
We should probably head down to the track though. I don't want to get in trouble for breaking anything." She glanced at the dent in the bench and shoved it back down. Wrinkled and imperfect, but much less noticable. As the metal so easily gave beneath her palm, she found herself already second guessing their agreement. Was this even a good idea? Weren't there other ways to 'get into shape'?
"
I thought I recognized that blunt force trauma!" Marcus said, leaning on one of the bleacher's railings. He's seen the tellale streaks of aquamarine hair from where he'd been standing and made his way over, correctly assuming that there was only one teal-haired girl who could roll down the metal stands without any trouble. He gave a quick nod to the girl in the white hair, making his way over to where the stands met the ground. "
How many times did you concuss yourself before all of this went dooooooowwwwwnnn..."
His voice trailed off a bit as he rounded the stand and got a better look at the girl Callan was standing with. His eyes locked to the most noticeable feature first: the large beast-like leg, with three crimson claws jutting out. They fortunately didn't appear to be bloodstained (Marcus doubted such a civil conversation would be happening if they were), but the ruby tips certainly made for an eye-catching spectacle.
But he was being rude. He quickly snapped his eyes up to the girl's head, following what seemed like an eternity of silence to him with an actual recognization. "
Oh hey, you were with us on arrival day, weren't you?" he asked, looking between Callan and the slim girl. He recognized her - she was the one that had slipped the cuffs and almost gotten them all killed on their first hour at USARILN, but that didn't seem like the best of topics to bring up right now.
Bonk bonk bonk.
As Brent made his laps with his new...friend lagging behind, the sound of metal against a thick skull drew his attention to the bleachers, where the hobo he had spotted a couple of hours ago was now just tumbling down and down and down and ouch, that must have hurt. As her aquamarine hair spilled out from the hood, though, he narrowed his eyes and recalled the midget mage who got swatted by a giant scorpion. Oh, yeah, right, there WAS a student that did in fact have superhuman toughness, hm? And then, beside her was...
The white-haired one from the orientation. The one that essentially got him and Sophia shot, because she slipped the cuffs and spooked some newbie soldier. Outside of that monster leg, she seemed fine, huh? Passing by right as some scarred blond dude mentioned the whole arrival day thing, Brent called out,
"Yup, she totes was! Nice to see the bullets didn't hit her!"With that, he continued onto his second lap.
Kusari watched Callan easily push the dented bleacher flat, for a moment her instincts told her that this was a bad idea and that she should stop. Of course this was a bad idea, but that didn't mean it was a
wrong idea. She simply nodded at Cal's suggestion to move to the track, when Marcus showed up. Kusari recognized him as the boy that wouldn't shut up on the truck. He too just couldn't resist staring at her leg. She couldn't blame anyone for looking, but he wasn't being subtle about it at all. At least he didn't need her to snap him out of it like she did with Callan. As if on cue, a boy running on the track chimed in, nonchalantly calling her out. The words 'Who's this bitch?' spoke in her mind, but thankfully were halted before coming out of her mouth.
"Yes, I was the one that slipped out of my cuffs and got some of us shot. It won't happen again, I intend to be taking any shots from now on." Kusari out a huff and walked past Marcus. She had no problem beating herself up about what she'd done. It was a dumb mistake, something she didn't plan on repeating.
"Feel free to join if you want." She said.
She stopped on the track where she agreed to spar with Callan, waiting for her so they could begin. It'd been a while since she'd been in a fight, hopefully street brawls translated well into bouts with mages.
Callan and Marcus exchanged looks as Kusari made her way down the bleachers-- her raptor claw loudly tapping the metal with each step. If Marcus was going to join them, he should probably know.
"
She's askin' me to punch her," Callan mumbled to Marcus, hesitating to follow so she could wait until Kusari was out of earshot.
"
I don't know, that didn't seem punch-worthy to me." Marcus said, mumbling back over to Cal. "
She owned her mistakes, and she's willing to make up for it. I'd let it go personally, unless she was the one that shoved you down the bleachers."
"
No, no," Callan shook her head vigorously, "
She's asking me to punch her."
"
Wait, literally?" Marcus asked, visibly surprised at Callan's response. "
She knows what you do, right? She was standing right there when you bent the bench back into place?" he asked, guesturing to the slightly wrinkled section of metal.
She nodded slowly.
"
Well, if she knows that, then she either has the ability to take the punch, or she's suicidal and you're her means of death. Given the numerous other ways around here to get killed, and that leg of hers, I'd say she knows what she's doing. So, hit 'er with all you got! Infirmary's right down the road if she's not as tough as she thinks!" Marcus shrugged indifferently, looking over at the white-haired girl.
"
God," Callan rolled her eyes. "
You're seriously on board with this?"
She looked between Marcus and Kusari, feeling defeated. Cal hurried up the bleachers to grab her bag, slinging it over her shoulder. "
If she dies, I'm punching you next," she quipped, passing Marcus on the way down. A joke... partially. She actually
was concerned about killing Kusari. That probably wouldn't look great on her record... or tombstone, if that's how they dealt with manslaughter. Heh--
manslaughter? She'd be a straight up murderer.
"
Well, if you kill her, we'll ALL be getting detention." Marcus said, raising his hands almost defensively. "
So...maybe not all you got. Maybe like, half of what you've got; work your way up from there. Baby steps!" he said as she passed him, stepping down the stairs behind her.
"
Don't punch me though, you'll turn me into a bag of flour. I'd really appreciate my ribs not becoming dust."
"
Heh." She forgot about whatever she was going to say next as Emma approached. At this point she couldn't decide whether they were gathering a training group or audience.
Not long after Brent came Emma to greet the duo… ‘not long’ being relative to their differing physical ability. She stopped, trying to catch her ailing breath.
Tired after one lap? She sighed to herself as she put up a hand in greeting to the pair. She recognized them as people she had fought alongside yesterday. Callan and the other guy. She never got his name. She also thought she saw Kusari hurrying off towards the track, raptor leg still attached to her. Emma did her best to put on a friendly smile.
”Hey guys!” She had heard Kusari invite Marcus to tag along, and thought that perhaps wherever they were going would suit her better than trying to catch up with the near-stranger on the track.
”Mind if I come along?” She was well aware of the likely chance that she wasn’t wanted.
"Oh," Brent turned, jogging in place once more,
"Finished already, uh....Right, I'm Brent. Don't think I caught your name before. Or any of your names. But your name's what's relevant here, so yeah."He wasn't totally sure who the white haired girl was inviting at the moment, and kept quiet about that. Considering her giant raptor leg of death, the youth doubted it was going to be for a friendly race or something like that. Her resting bitch face didn't help either, all things considered...but her oath to take all the shots next time was nice. He'd like to see that in person, whenever it happened.
Emma nodded at the now named Brent.
”Yeah… I’m Emma. Or Em, either way. Uh, by the way…” Her face reddened a little, aware of the implications of what she was saying and how it might be interpreted by the others,
”I’m in Building A, Suite 318. So you can find me for that, uh, thing tonight.” "Sure thing," he replied with a smile,
"I'll be looking forward to it then. Later!"Maybe he'll figure out a high-cardio routine she can do when he had time. Having such a red face after just one lap really was pathetic, after all!
Marcus looked hesitantly between the two from his position near the bleachers. He wasn't quite sure if this was a conversation
he was supposed to be listening to, but they'd been the ones to end up in his earshot, so he wasn't going to be the one to move. With whatever wierd conversation they were having seemingly finished, Marcus took it upon himself to make introductions after a brief moment of silence.
"
Marcus Howell, at your service!" he said, making a slight flourish with his hand, looking to both of them. "
And I'm not fighting, Cal 'ere would most certainly break every single bone in my pathetic body. I'm just gonna stand here and watch, maybe cheer a bit. You're welcome to also stand here and cheer, if you're not in the mood to go back to the infirmary!" he said, smirking a little. He'd come down here to try and work out the logistics of his new power, but this little side-trip couldn't hurt. Couldn't hurt
him at least.
Callen waved somberly at Emma before dropping her bag on the ground and continuing towards the center of the track, leaving Marcus to continue talking to her. She wanted to get this over with and wasn't really interested in whatever Emma and Brent were going to be doing that night.
Emma nodded slowly at Marcus.
"Nice to meet you..." And then she did a double take.
"Wait, did you just say fight? Does that mean...?" She pointed at Cal and Kusari,
"Really?""
Hey, apparently she literally asked for it. With that kind of confidence, and that leg of hers, I'm curious as to what her power actually is." Marcus replied, crossing his arms and leaning on the fence.
"Oh, you didn't see it yesterday? Kusari can't die. And sometimes her limbs grow back as raptor parts? I'm a little fuzzy on that last part." Emma's voice sounded a little too casual for the topic, which probably meant she was starting to get too used to the craziness that happened here.
Kusari tilted her head back to see Callan taking her sweet time walking to her. The girl was probably anxious about this, but she didn't really care. It wasn't as if either of them were in any real danger. Looking beyond Callan, she'd noticed Emma arrive. He voiced that she wanted to join in their training, Kusari had no problems with that. Emma could be a good sparring partner as well, since her puppets could fight for her, and simply be summoned again when killed. She promptly got distracted by the boy that was running on the track, whatever they were up to wasn't any of her business, though Emma could at least not make it sound so suggestive. Kusari let out an annoyed groan and looked to Callan.
"Come on already, we don't have all day!""
Right," she nodded before releasing a long, drawn out sigh. Callan bunched up her fists, cocked one arm back and--
"
A-are you sure about this?" She suddenly relaxed her posture, leaning back. Frankly, she was a little disturbed nobody had stopped her from doing what she was about to do yet.
"Yes, I'm sure." Kusari said in a monotone voice.
"If you don't start I will.""
Okay, okay!" She reassumed her punching stance, chewing on her lip. Kusari didn't look half as scared about all this as Callan felt-- she tried to take some comfort in that, though the sneaking suspicious that the albino skeleton of a girl was just plain nuts still lingered. As she readied the blow, she paused once more. Her eyes darted between Kusari's head, gut, and arms. Oh man, she was gonna be sick.
"
Where do you want me to punch you?" she asked, setting her jaw.
Kusari's right eye twitched in annoyance, her patience at the moment was about as short as the wick of a candle.
"I guess I'll start then." Kusari dashed forward at a speed she still wasn't accustomed to using her transformed leg. The distance was closed in half a second, the only thing now was to decide how to strike Callan. Punching this girl would only hurt her own hands, she could use her talons but she wasn't sure how dangerous that could be.
Kusari went for an alternative to a direct strike, she placed her right leg behind Callan's right heel, and then pushed against her throat using her right hand. She doubted even with her enhanced strength and durability that being grabbed by the throat was all the comfortable, she'd likely try to move back or resist, which should result in her leg tripping her up and causing her to fall.
Callan's eyes widened at Kusari's response and subsequent dash. "
Wait--" she reflexively threw one arm across her body to protect it. She was
fast. As she felt the girl's hand collide with her throat, her arm extended sharply, shoving Kusari several meters away as she attempted to step back. With her footing scrambled by Kusari's hook around her heel, she fell backwards onto the grass, landing roughly on her ass
Emma winced from the sidelines. She leaned in towards Marcus,
"Kusari's holding back, but I think Cal's going to get her ass kicked. I don't think Callan's really into it." Emma had to admit, this
was a little fun to watch.
Marcus chuckled a bit as Callan went toppling over. "
Oh no, I can tell you that Callan's probably holding back too. At least until she stops worrying about hurting her and just throws a decent punch already!" Marcus said, yelling the last part a little bit louder, hopefully enough that Callan could hear him.
"
Ten bucks says my teammate can whoop your teammate." Marcus said, grinning and turning his head to look at Emma.
"Oh, you're so on." Some people might say that the two seemed a little too excited at the prospect of their friends beating each other to death, but this wasn't exactly a normal situation.
Kusari's maneuver didn't go quite as planned. Usually a shove from someone being attacked like this wasn't quite so effective in halting the assault. Callan was ridiculously strong however, which was why Kusari was now in the air long enough to contemplate what she should eat for dinner. Her body fell to the ground, and she heard a disturbing sound from her shoulder, followed by a wave of pain. She shot back up to her feet perhaps a bit quicker than she should have. Wobbling in a circle for a moment she planted her feet and shook her head.
"Ah..." Her shoulder had been dislocated, the area was already surrounded by a dim light and healing it's self. Since it was such a minor injury it was quickly back to normal.
Callan had in fact been knocked onto her bottom, but that was far easier to recover from than what she'd done to Kusari. She raised her hands, and prepared to receive an attack.
"Great, now come at me!"Was it really okay? Cal winced as Kusari wobbled around on her feet. A normal person probably wouldn't have been able to hop up that fast, though. She got to her feet and spared a tentative smile, rubbing over each of her knuckles with the pad of her thumb. Okay. She was gonna do it. For real this time. She crouched, shifting one leg forward.
"
Here I come!" she warned. She cleared the gap in three bounds, driving her fist into Kusari's abdomen with as much strength as she could muster. Maybe it was the sudden rush of adreneline or maybe she was just an idiot, but by the time she remembered Marcus' wise suggestion about baby steps it was far too late.
Callan's fist collided with Kusari's body, her arms not even moving fast enough to block the blow. It didn't matter if she could see it when her pathetic arms couldn't keep up, she'd need to do something about her terrible muscle mass. Right now however she was more worried about something else.
Callan's fist had lodged it's self inside her stomach, having punched all the way through her. Kusari didn't scream in pain, perhaps she was too shocked at what she was looking at. With her lips quivering she placed shaky hands on Callan's arm and slowly pulled it out of her body. There was a lot of blood, along with things she didn't recognize... well she did recognize a few things. She'd have to replace that meal later.
Kusari held up a finger and sat down as if she was simply tired and needed a rest. She sat there for a few minutes, shuddering in pain as her wound slowly closed.
"Yeah... I'm done... for the day." She muttered, spitting out a bit of blood from her mouth. She looked to Callan, then down to her own transformed leg.
Nah, I literally asked for this, can't get mad. CAN'T GET MAD. "Don't worry about it, I'm fine." She said. That was a lie.
Marcus had just uncrossed his arms and gone to shake Emma's hand when he heard something. Something that sounded far too...
meaty that what he was normally comfortable with. He head quickly snapped back to the fight, and it was readily apparent that he had just missed the best part. And by best part, he meant that Callan had just killed her sparring partner. Or would have, had Kusari not been...well...herself. That knowledge, the 'can't die' thing that Emma just told him, was probably the only thing keeping him from freaking out right now.
"
Oh shit..." Marcus muttered, eyes fixed on the two as Kusari slowly sat down. "
...Callan's gonna be pissed at me."
"Oh shit..." Emma muttered, reaction significantly more pedestrian.
"Looks like I'm out ten bucks." She said, shrugging a little. She'd seen Kusari take worse, after all.
"I guess we should go make sure Kusari or Callan aren't freaking out." She said, walking calmly towards the scene.
Something clattered onto the track as Brent did another lap. White, with viscera clinging onto it. A bone. A vertebrate? He stopped, picked it, and then turned to the center of the grassy track.
The bone clattered onto the ground once more.
He had turned just in time to see that aquamarine girl's fist stuck INSIDE the albino's torso. Blood soaked the gray shirt as his jaw dropped in slow-motion. Damn. Superhuman strength was actually that insane, huh? And, considering how raptor-girl just...walked it off afterwards, her massive gaping hole just fleshing itself together? Brent looked back at the piece of bone. She had regrown part of her spine just as easily, huh?
A student with superhuman physique and another student capable of regenerating from near-fatal wounds. There was a dragon as well, and some berserk normal dude. Nice. He should properly introduce himself then. Gotta network, after all. Picking up that bloodied bone once more, Brent tossed it up and down in his hand as he approached the two.
"Yo, need this? Guess you totally can take all the bullets after all, eh? Didn't know you'd literally be trying to kill each other though."Because if they were, he totally would have been watching.
There was no resistence. Nothing. Like punching through paper. Callan was frozen in place, still trying to process what just happened, until Kusari's hand gripped her arm. She inhaled sharply as the contents of the girl's stomach spilled onto the grass. Reaching out with her clean hand to help, Kusari gestured for her not to and sat down. All at once and like a faucet, tears started spilling from her eyes as she looked between her bloody fist and the gaping hole, which had already started to heal. Even so, it was obvious Kusari was feeling the pain normally. Before she could even ask if she was okay-- which would have been an extremely dumb question-- Kusari answered.
She dropped to her knees and covered her mouth. "
Oh God...." she choked, "
I-- I'm sorry! I didn't think--"
She almost didn't notice Brent as he strolled up holding... God, was that her
spine? Callan was on the verge of hyperventilating now. She swallowed hard and tried not to think about vomitting.
Kusari watched wide eyed as Callan dropped to her knees and began sobbing. She figured the girl would be a bit shocked, but she wasn't ready for the waterworks.
"I-I said I'm fine aloe head. I asked for it didn't I?" Now she felt bad, not making girls cry was basically the eleventh commandment for her. Though looking at her right now, Kusari couldn't help but find her a little cute. Her face tensed into a frown that looked as if she were about to murder someone, unfortunately this was Kusari's embarrassed face. She was about to reach out to place a hand on Callan's shoulder when Brent walked up to them holding... holding a vertebrae? Was that from her? Kusari was mildly disgusted at it, seeing vital parts of her body outside of her was fairly macabre after all.
Seeing the bloody bone only made Callan worse, Kusari slapped it from Brent's hand.
"What's wrong with you?" She nearly growled, then turning back to Callan. She had to somehow diffuse this situation.
"Stop crying you bab-" She choked down her words and started again.
"Hey, you wanna go on a date? I'll pay."Wait, what was that?
Huh?
The fuck did I just say!?At least it wasn't an insult.
In truth, Callan was desperately trying to get a grip of herself. Seeing Kusari slap the vertebrae from Brent's hand probably shouldn't have been as comforting as it was. But, if she had the strength to do that, she was probably going to be okay-- even if she wasn't right at this moment. Kusari's question gave her pause. A... date? With
her? After she'd just done
that?
"
Wh--" She felt the tears begin to subside in the face of such an unexpected question. Before she overcame her hesitation to respond, however, Emma and Marcus had waltzed up with... jokes.
Emma approached Kusari with a sympathetic smile on her face.
"No scarf this time, sorry." She joked. Probably not very funny.
"... Are you, er, okay? Need anything? Uh, does water or something help?" Probably not an appropriate question. She had clearly missed all talk of dates, or her reaction would've been entirely different.
Marcus, having walked over with Emma, stood beside Callan. "
Hey Cal, you alright down there?" he said, kneeling down beside her. "
Don't worry, apparently she can't get killed!" he added, looking to Emma for confirmation. That being said, it still looked like she was in quite a bit of pain. He looked over to the rival duo and quipped to Emma: "
Does she need an ice pack or anything? Shot of morphine? Shot of rum? Anything like that?" Hopefully his more cheerful attitude was putting his roommate at ease. Otherwise, he was about to get puked on, or thrown across the field, and he didn't know which he'd prefer.
Eh, so she didn't need it after all. And it turned out that mental weakness was still a thing for someone who was pretty much Superwoman. Good to know. Brent shrugged at all this, as Emma and scarface approached from the sidelines once more, each with their own attempts to diffuse or make like of the situation. None of those compared to the white-haired girl's attempt though.
If he had been drinking water, he would have spit it out.
A date? After Superbaby just put a hole through her chest?
"What, did she take your heart as well?"...
Bad decisions for days.
Callan barely processed what Brent had said, being much too busy shooting daggers at Marcus.
"
Apparently?" She got to her feet, shaking her head incredulously. She failed to see how any of this was funny. Maybe she would later, but for now.... She looked back at her fist and slowly opened her palm. She sighed and wiped her tears away with the inside of her jacket, trying to calm herself down. She couldn't blame Marcus for this-- or even Kusari for that matter. It was her fault and she should have known better.
Oh shit. She's pissedMarcus could clearly see the daggers coming his way, and it didn't take long for him to figure out exactly where he'd tripped up and stuck his foot in his mouth. Especially when Callan had nicely pointed it out for him. "
I-I mean, I figured as much! No way she'd be willing to go up against you if she didn't have the power to take it!" he stammered, quickly trying to work his way out of the hole he'd so delicately placed himself.
He stood up, moving his hands in the universal 'calm down' motion. She was apparently taking this way harder than he'd originially anticipated. To him, the fact that Kusari had sat down should have been the end of it, and they could all talk back and forth while they waited for her to regegnerate.
"
Everything's fine; she's okay - you're okay. Nobody got hurt here!" he said, his tone still upbeat, but it was clear he was trying to reassuring at the same time.
Callan furrowed her brow in frustration. "
No!" she argued, matching his volume "
She did get hurt! Look!" She motioned to Kusari, but the point she was trying to make was almost completely null now. The wound was nearly done healing. "
She's not dead, but she DID get hurt. Really hurt." She looked down at Kusari unaccusingly. The memory of her face was still fresh in her memory-- that look of shock in her eyes.
She grit her teeth-- was that all it was going to take for her to kill someone? They tell her they can handle it-- say 'Go ahead! Punch me!'-- so she goes ahead and... does
that. And... a date? Was that a joke, too? She could feel her eyes starting to tear up all over again. She turned on her heel and sprinted back to her dorm-- way too fast for anyone to catch up.
"Ah, that went well." Kusari watched as Callan ran off faster than an Olympic athletic. She then glanced at Marcus as she stood up.
"The hell was that about? You two really just sat there and argued about me without letting me get a word in edgewise. She let out an irritated groan. The last thing she figured she'd have to deal with here was drama, she'd need to shut this nonsense down as soon as possible. She looked down at her shirt, it was now stained red and had a Callan fist sized hole in it.
"Whatever, I'll see you later." She said, then walking away. There was a need to go after Callan, the longer she waited the more awkward things would be, she'd rather cut off her other leg than let things fester. She spotted the bag she'd seen Callan set down before their sparing match, she must had forgotten it. Kusari picked up the bag and headed for the dorms.
"
I mean, I was kinda hoping someone else would say something and bail me outta that one, maybe help me reassure her that everything was okaaaaaaaaay aaaand she's gone." Marcus said, trailing off as Kusari also walked away.
Emma gave Marcus a sideways glance as Callan and then Kusari stormed off.
"Well..." Emma snickered,
"Looks like you're in trouble. You're lucky you didn't get a hole in your chest too, eh?""Oh, shit, you're immortal as well?" Brent raised an eyebrow at the blondie.
"
Yeah, I kinda figured I'd be in trouble. I suppose I deserve it though." Marcus said, sighing and shaking his head. "
Don't know if you noticed, but I was egging her on pretty hard back there." he said, smirking softly and looking off to the dorms. "
I'll give her a bit to calm down, and then I'll apologize for making her totally wreck your teammate. Which, by the way, you owe me ten dollars for." he said, turning his attention fully to Emma.
"
And no, my power's not immortality. That'll very much kill me." Marcus said, chuckling and glancing over at Brent. "
I actually came here to work out some of the kinks, if you're curious." he finished, looking between the two of them.
Emma sighed, reaching for her wallet.
"You're lucky I actually have real money." She said, extending the last of her wallet's contents towards him.
"
Oh, hey; I really didn't expect anybody here to actually being carrying cash! Keep that stuff - it'll probably be a collector's item when this whole thing rolls over. You can use your card to buy me a drink sometime." he said, smirking again. He mentally applauded himself for that one: he hadn't exactly meant to be Mr.McCoolSmooth there, but it was an accident he really wasn't upset about making.
Emma blushed.
"F-fine." It looked like she had landed a date with Marcus and a late night excursion with Brent within the span of an hour.
"Great. She sarcastically remarked to herself.
