For Ember [in-progress]
It's been a while. Reno almost forgot what it felt like to have his ass handed to him. Tseng won't let them get rusty, but sparring with Rude is a totally different circus than - this shit.
The pavement tears his skin again as he's slung across it, but the pain doesn't kick in until he's on his feet. He can't see out of one eye, and he isn't sure if there's blood in it, or if he just got hit in the head hard enough to blind him. Wouldn't that be something. He shakes it off, watching his opponent approach in leaps and bounds, like some kind of fucking gazelle or something.
A wave of dizziness rushes over him just as they clash again. Shit. The sheer force behind the silver-haired man - nothing but momentum, hardly any weight at all - is enough to knock Reno off his feet again. He stumbles into the corner of a building and ends up backing into the alleyway. Not exactly ideal, but it's not like he's trapped here, either.
Before the other man can get the jump on him, Reno turns the careening motion into a flat run. He hits the back wall of the alley and starts upward, but he doesn't get very far.
The man lands in front of him - in fucking front of him, standing on the wall like it's nobody's business. The only thing this guy gives less of a shit about than gravity is how badly Reno and Rude are gonna blow his ass up when this is over. Reno's tenuous grip on the bricks slips, and with his momentum stalled, he feels his own weight begin to sabotage his safety.
"Fuck -"
Those rough black boots take a single step toward his fingers, and he's falling.
The cold ground knocks the air out of his lungs. He struggles to get purchase on the asphalt, to get a breath before the dark floods his eyes. Too late, he inhales, his vision clears, and there those boots are again, like he never left.
There's something wrong with his arms, because he can't get them under him right now, and that's why the creepy bastard is able to just reach over and lift him off the ground by the shoulder of his jacket. He hefts Reno up and pitches him against the wall, and he's there to catch him before he slides to the ground. He pins him there with his body; the leather is cold, and Reno can feel it through the thin material of his dress shirt.
"Where's Mother?" he asks again, then, patiently. His voice is startling and deep, and it resonates through Reno's chest.
What he says next takes effort (and balls, he'd like to think). "Probably still in bed after our little romp last night. I think I wore her out."
Pain cracks through his skull, unprecedented (at least today). Reno's vision goes white for a moment. All he can hear are the roars of the beasts in the background and the screams of the city, all of it so far away.
"You think that's funny?" the silver-haired man hisses, his words a burr at the edge of Reno's consciousness. "Let's see."
The pavement tears his skin again as he's slung across it, but the pain doesn't kick in until he's on his feet. He can't see out of one eye, and he isn't sure if there's blood in it, or if he just got hit in the head hard enough to blind him. Wouldn't that be something. He shakes it off, watching his opponent approach in leaps and bounds, like some kind of fucking gazelle or something.
A wave of dizziness rushes over him just as they clash again. Shit. The sheer force behind the silver-haired man - nothing but momentum, hardly any weight at all - is enough to knock Reno off his feet again. He stumbles into the corner of a building and ends up backing into the alleyway. Not exactly ideal, but it's not like he's trapped here, either.
Before the other man can get the jump on him, Reno turns the careening motion into a flat run. He hits the back wall of the alley and starts upward, but he doesn't get very far.
The man lands in front of him - in fucking front of him, standing on the wall like it's nobody's business. The only thing this guy gives less of a shit about than gravity is how badly Reno and Rude are gonna blow his ass up when this is over. Reno's tenuous grip on the bricks slips, and with his momentum stalled, he feels his own weight begin to sabotage his safety.
"Fuck -"
Those rough black boots take a single step toward his fingers, and he's falling.
The cold ground knocks the air out of his lungs. He struggles to get purchase on the asphalt, to get a breath before the dark floods his eyes. Too late, he inhales, his vision clears, and there those boots are again, like he never left.
There's something wrong with his arms, because he can't get them under him right now, and that's why the creepy bastard is able to just reach over and lift him off the ground by the shoulder of his jacket. He hefts Reno up and pitches him against the wall, and he's there to catch him before he slides to the ground. He pins him there with his body; the leather is cold, and Reno can feel it through the thin material of his dress shirt.
"Where's Mother?" he asks again, then, patiently. His voice is startling and deep, and it resonates through Reno's chest.
What he says next takes effort (and balls, he'd like to think). "Probably still in bed after our little romp last night. I think I wore her out."
Pain cracks through his skull, unprecedented (at least today). Reno's vision goes white for a moment. All he can hear are the roars of the beasts in the background and the screams of the city, all of it so far away.
"You think that's funny?" the silver-haired man hisses, his words a burr at the edge of Reno's consciousness. "Let's see."