Topic Thunder! [incomplete]

[waywardwing]

WHO: Heero Yuy/Odin, Trowa Barton/Nanashi, Quatre Winner/Sandrock, Edgeworth/The Law
WHERE: The mall
WHEN: April 14th, various times
WARNINGS: Excessive silliness and lots of action!
SUMMARY: Heero and Trowa go to visit Quatre while he's working. They're just not sure which store he's working in. Edgeworth follows after.
FORMAT: Paragraph.

Comments

[bluffing_ruffle]

It had not been a particularly lucky week as of yet for him; he'd been beaten twice now and the suspects escaped. Despite the hurt that had already been put on him, Edgeworth was determined to prove that he could do this, that doing this was his choice and not that of some super-powered technopath capable of directing his movements. If he just kept going... if he could make it clear that he would do as he wanted, despite whatever abilities his hidden tormentor had, he would be all right. The City would be all right.

A handful of people had gone out already by the time Quatre showed, none of them particularly interesting to him; he did not recognize them, and paid them no mind. But when he caught the sight of the blond hair peeking through the black--when he saw the boy's face, and immediately remembered it to be that of 'Sandrock'--Edgeworth realized how he'd been evaded so far, and scowled darkly.

No matter. This was the moment.

Setting down the newspaper, he breathed quietly, calming himself, eyeing his target. He had fended well for himself during the Tower attack, but rampaging mutants were different from someone who had fairly well destroyed a section in the Business District without even physically touching it. If he made a mistake here--if he missed; gave himself away--

A moment later, a thick glob of the mobile ice he usually used to trap limbs blew through the air and smashed into Quatre's lower legs.

[bluffing_ruffle]

Edgeworth refused to let the boy get away; refused to let himself fail in his efforts to keep the City safe. The dust and gravel weren't unexpected--after all, the kid had torn the district apart. He ran forward, shouting, sweeping a hand through the air in front of himself and condensing the moisture in front of him them both into a semicircular, thick, opaque, blue-white wall. Another violent gesture and the ice sprouted jagged spikes sticking out in every direction.

Like hell you're getting away, blondie, dust storm or not. You're too dangerous.