capeandcowllogs | vrrrmmmmm

Terra probably should have overdosed by now. The migraines had been growing steadily worse over the past week, and despite her best efforts to sleep it off, change her diet, and experimentation with this world's pharmaceuticals, the pain seemed to burn through all this and grow stronger, a flaming matter lodged in her skull. She'd gone through all five bottles of painkillers in two days. Where people were not to exceed six, maybe ten of those pills if particularly large of body, the short, lean Terra had slammed through more than two hundred with no ill effect. (Do not duplicate this at home, children.) But the more she fought the pain and pressure building inside her, the more intense it felt, the greater the pain; painkillers ebbed it back enough for her to focus, but the debilitating spikes of pain made her desperate for reprieve. She didn't know what was wrong with her; even dying had not been as painful as this.

Outdoors it was dim, and cold, snow flurries drifting down and clinging to Terra's pale clothing. Had the snow any weight, it would have been jostled by her uneven step; as it was, it could only find purchase on her cloak, each fleck of ice evaporating to mist before it even touched her fevered skin. She did not know where she was headed, or what she planned to do—she could hardly concentrate long enough to give such concerns. Thought gave way to the sear of fire in her head, of the frantic jump of electricity in her limbs, the sick and heavy weight of ice in her dread-full belly. When she stumbled sideways, she couldn't focus enough to tell if it was window, wall, or tree that she hit; a dull impact compared to her suffering. The pound and the roar grew fiercer, hotter and louder still, and with a pained outcry Terra's hands slammed against her head. There her palms dug against her temples, fingers digging into loosely tied-up hair. It felt like the pain was trying to rip its way out of her; the roaring buzz in her ears sounded like electrical wires, and the scorching inside her head made it seem like her whole body was caught in an inferno.

Trying to block out the inside world and out, Terra couldn't realize that she was making such the racket, or that to an observer's eyes she was being swallowed up by flame. What bystanders had been near her were clearing away with no small haste. Spontaneous combustion was one possibility, sure, but with metahumans such a dominant presence in this City, most of its citizens knew better than to stick around when something extreme cropped up. This was no different. Well. If young women on fire didn't qualify as 'different.'

Mikoto gets an outright jostle up her spine the moment she comes across this...this very disturbing sight. In fact, she stops right in her tracks from where she was just exiting the supermarket, her eyes wide.

Holy shit some girl is spontaneously combusting.

But that wasn't all. Powerful auras, through Mikoto's eyes, gave off electromagnetic waves that only she could see and feel---and Terra's---Terra's was quickly shooting through the proverbial roof. Something wasn't right here. The even odder part? The flames were giving off waves as well, and since Terra wasn't burning to ashes...

Mikoto winces as a loud buzzing starts to fill her own head, causing a spark of electricity to blow out a row of streetlights.

"H-hey...!" she has to force the words out of her mouth as the buzzing intensifies while she inches closer. "Are you alright?!"

The girl on the ground has arms wrapped tightly around her head for the pounding in her skull, and she's gasping for air. She feels like she's going to explode, and with it comes the realization to when she's felt this pain before.

The Frozen—

She tries to shake her head, but wrapped upon herself as she is, her entire body has to twist. No, no, she thinks, even as she feels that magical fire eat at her human body to the Esper below, this isn't—.

"St-stay away!" she cries, almost gagging on her tongue. Her eyes are forced closed, and she cannot see as her body is engulfed in light — but she can feel the physical changes. Her hands and feet enlarge, sharp talons on the end of each digit; clothing is lost for fur, blonde hair a tangled mane, limbs altered and no longer quite matching human proportions.

"B-but----kyaa---!"

Mikoto stumbles backward as the light engulfs Terra, the loud buzzing in her head becoming screeching due to the immense mystical aura the other Esper is radiating. The electromagnetic waves she sees grow brighter, more intense...and Mikoto's knees buckle under the mental strain. Her own body crackles with electricity for a moment, and another succession of streetlights blow out.

And when she sees the end result of that spectacle, all she can do is gape.

...What the hell. Her mind begins to race. Is that what she looks like to people in her world? To Baroona, when she flipped out on him due to that misunderstanding? He told her he was used to fighting things that terrified him.

...Is this what people like her really were?

Monsters? Her frantic thoughts aren't alleviated much by all the passersby running away for dear life.

"What...what...?" Is really all she can get out of her mouth coherently at the present time, her eyes wide and almost blank, glassy. "No...I'm not...I'm not like this...like that...am I...?"

Even though the change is complete, the almost-fire engulfing the creature continues burning with a red-white light, the flames flickering and jumping from one tuft of fur to another. Her hands clench around her head, and nails cutting past fur and skin. She gasps, or screams, her hands ripping free to slam to the ground. She's almost hyperventilating, with her shoulders heaving and her hands curling, talons piercing into the sidewalk like nails through drywall. Her powers are meant to be gone. She's meant to be human now; Lina killed this part of her, and Zelgadis destroyed the remnants. So why—

Her body trembles and spasms with the power coursing through her; one hand curls into a fist, pavement crunching and crumbling in her grip. No, no, this wasn't right.

When she looks up, her chest is heaving, and her attention whips this way and that. People are screaming, running, and even those nowhere near her flinch and recoil when she looks upon them. But there's one girl who hasn't run, babbling something only a few feet away from Terra. Who are you...?

"I..."

Mikoto's throat goes dry. Tightens, as she instinctively begins to back away from the transformed Terra, struggling to ignore the loud screeching in her head and the electromagnetic waves now radiating powerfully from Terra herself.

Nononononono. She's not a monster. She's not...like this. She was human just like everyone else, even in spite of her powers---

Yet the screams and calling for help from the passersby begin to echo loudly in her ears. She needs to stop this. She needs to stop this...this thing before...

"Don't move. I'm not going to let you hurt them."

Mikoto's voice becomes firm and her eyes steely, as she pulls out a coin and poises it between her thumb and finger, her arm crackling with electricity.

"Guh—" Get back, she tries to say, but the convulsing, rampant power feels like barbed wires inside her, twisting this way and that, curling around this lung, this heart, ripping her open and electrocuting what spills inside her. It feels like everything that made her human is being torn, thrown into her stomach like some acidic waste, boiling and vile.

She wants to explain that she doesn't want to hurt anyone—that she's not going to hurt anyone—but opening her mouth to gasp for air makes her feel cold and sick, an incomprehensible sound. Her muscles are shaking when she tries to stand, one clawed foot on the pavement, the other. She's hunched over, frog-legged and low torso, and some dim part of her mind wonders if she's hot enough to melt asphalt. A push against her arms and she clambers to her feet, slowly unfolding, rising like a flower to sunlight in some demented garden. The inhumanity of her limbs is more apparent now, body a stark white behind those flickering flames.

The eyes and expression are wounded, almost pleading, but the shape is all wrong, and the colors sickening. Irises red and scleras yellow looked like blood and jaundice compared to the white of her fur. She wobbles on those narrow legs and misshapen feet, hands overly large held in front of her—but not for long, suddenly jerking to clutch at her ribs as another tremor drives up her spine. The electric noise only seems to get louder, and it's suddenly obvious she isn't standing on those feet — she's floating.

Mikoto has to keep herself from letting out a horrified shriek at the sight of this...animal. This animal that...that looks like it could lay waste to and raze for good measure this little park they were standing in. Her mouth quirks somewhat, and she has to squint her eyes a bit to keep them from widening in terror.

Another shudder goes up her spine. Terra looks just like the AIM Burst, except...less fetal and more...

...Was that a hint of emotion that went through the beast's face? Mikoto contemplates maybe using words to maybe pacify it, but once she starts floating...

"N-no! Don't...! Don't hurt anyone...!"

Mikoto's voice rises to what nearly sounds like crying, electricity starting to course through the entirety of her body as her emotions get to running wild, in reaction to the mystical aura radiating in deluges from Terra. Sparks of lightning start soaring this way and that, as she unleashes her patented 'Railgun' move, firing the coin into a volatile beam of energy.

She crosses arms in front of her chest and face, but even monstrous as they are, arms are no match for the livewire electrical power of Mikoto's attack; already floating, it's no surprise that Terra goes hurtling backwards through the air, the mixed energy explosive around her body. When she finally crashes to the ground, her body scorches the ground black. Electricity — both Mikoto's and her own — continues to jump from her as she pushes to her feet. It isn't like Terra had never been electrocuted before, and the Esper's form is far more resilient than even her half-bred form, and practically a lightning rod to her purely human body.

She doesn't want to hurt anybody. But, more pressing than that, Terra is in pain, and being attacked, and she does not want to die. Not again. Even with her head pounding and every part of her seeming to be torn apart by pain, something tells her that she cannot allow herself to be killed.

The fact that she is fighting a human, almost a child, does not immediately register. Instead, faster than a sprint goes the fire, spikes emerging and swinging downward like massive blades towards the girl.

Ohmigod.

It was just like fighting Kiyama all over again. This time, Mikoto can't help but gape, her mouth moving absently, but with no sound coming out of it.

No way. Railgun alone should've---should've---been enough to completely incapacitate Terra. In spite of her speechlessness, Mikoto's hyperventilating in her growing panic and bewilderment, and even in spite of Terra gathering energy, all she can do is stand there, staring blankly in a daze.

"Wh...what are..."

But her mind narrowly snaps back to focus once the blades of energy come hurtling toward her, prompting her to shriek and unleash an electric burst in retaliation to hopefully deflect the attack---but all it does is create a shockwave that sends her spiraling into a tree in a scuffed-up heap.

Her body is shaking, crackling, as she gets to her feet. Her legs can hardly support her weight. It doesn't matter that she's a lightweight, for her muscles still tremble; it's her power that practically lifts her up, almost floating on waves of heat. The image of fire, of monstrosity, the dangerousness of Terra's appearance only grows. The panicked pedestrians have all dispersed as well as they can, leaving the area deserted. A battleground.

But with her opponent prone, knocked to the ground, Terra doesn't strike again. She approaches, not fully comprehending why she does this, or how horrifying she looks. She wants to know if the other is going to keep attacking. To see if she's just hurt, or—

She stops only meters away from the girl; below her, the wisps of grass beneath Terra's feet curl up, dry out, and burn to ash from the hot proximity. But on her face, the beast's expression is pained. Perhaps guilty? For it is now that Terra realizes just how young the other girl looks, heaped on the ground like this. She's just a child.

Something cold pours through her, ice as sharp as glass, and Terra recoils with a sudden fear. She has done this. She is the reason this girl is hurt—and none of this has so much as dented the pain Terra herself is feeling, with magic still running wild over her limbs. Muscles spasm in her arms like fire crackers.

"Ungh..."

Mikoto, pain coursing all over her body from her impact against the tree, grimaces as she stumbles to her feet, only to fall down to her knees as the pain makes a particularly potent surge up her back.

Breathing heavily, she looks up only to see Terra staring at her with a vaguely guilty, vaguely fearful expression. Mikoto steels her expression, and makes an attempt to stand up once again.

"...Come on." She says a bit hoarsely. "Try that again. I won't make the same mistake twice."

Terra's misshapen hands curl into fists, glowing white on white with power. Her insides rattle against her spine, organs and muscles trading places and twisting up within her. She's in so much pain it's hard for her to think straight, and her claws and fingers run with blood, piercing through her own skin. She burns inside and out with hot fire, the true nature of her magic infiltrating and infecting every part of her with transformation. It's no longer a matter of changing one face to another; she was fully human.

Some of that humanity needed to be burned away to make room for the monster.

She aches, she burns, but she does not fling wanton fire at the child before her. With tight control she raises her arms, summer-sun-white, and releases the spell with what measure of stability she has left.

"Sleep."

At first, the spell doesn't register. Mikoto grits her teeth in a conditioned reflex of resistance, a surge of electricity readying itself for another Railgun blast through her arm.

Suddenly, her knees buckle. Her eyes feel heavy. Her vision wavers in and out.

"Wha...?"

Grunting, Mikoto wills herself to try and stay awake, but the heavy cloak of weariness is bearing down upon her.

She crumples to the ground.

And she is still breathing.

Some measure of relief burbles to life within Terra, the fight over and each of them still alive, but her victory feels too short for fanfare. The adrenaline mixes with each other concoction of turmoil inside her, every pain and emotion boils up and over from the fire. It would have been strange to watch the creature stumble backwards on feet that do not touch the ground, were there anyone left standing there to witness. Her hands clutch at the pound of frustration and suffering in her head, and before she even knows what she is thinking, knows what she is doing, she shoots into the sky like a rocket, flames trailing from her feet and her whole body screaming in flight.

[Maybe you're outside today, going about your business and picking up some beer; maybe you're inside by a window, getting ready to relax with a nice sudoku puzzle. Maybe you're asleep on some cold lump of grass, uncaring for the wimpy snowfall. You're doing something, and there's a scream, or a cry, or an electrical buzz somewhere nearby. Maybe you just happen to look at the right time. For there—hurtling through the sky, or crashing through parkland canopies, or darting across pavement like the dying dance of a poisoned fly—is a monster. Humanoid, true, but covered in white fur, speckled like an ermine cloak, streaked with blood. Also, off-and-on seems to be on fire. ]

[So, stranger. What do you do?]

Hank was idly walking home from that day's classes, paying more attention to his comm than anything else, when he saw it. No, not it, he was fairly certain that should be her.

It was only once before that he'd seen such a sight, but it was an encounter that stayed with him, one he was still curious about. Which is why the memory bubbled to the surface as she crashed into the sidewalk in front of him and darted away.

It may not be wise to handle it alone, he thought to himself, but he couldn't stand by while this happened! She might hurt someone, or be hurt herself, and he couldn't allow that if there was something he could do. Helping monsters was in his job description after all.

So, he pocketed his phone and raced after her on all fours.

The advantage of flight was that, like with many other attributes of magic, there was less natural resistance to whatever it was she wished to do. No struggle for traction or building up acceleration, and no amount of gravity, altitude, or incline could slow or determine a path.

Unfortunately, it meant a disoriented flier was just as likely to crash into a wall as she was a building's side, which the Esper did with little preamble. There was no crater in the pavement or destruction of nearby cars; just a body hitting the ground, practically bouncing, and shooting off again with a loud electrical buzz and an inhuman cry. She paid little attention to where she went, with her head pounding and her whole body searing under her skin, but her self-caused terror did not make her deaf, or blind.

She stopped, for some definitions of the word: her near-to-ground flight arced vertical a couple meters, body turning in a move that seemed more convulsion than intention. The translucent appearance of flame around her only seemed to grow brighter as the beast looked down at, well, the other beast.

"Stay back!" the thing shouted with a voice that was rasped and wrung out, white hands stained with blood sweeping out; there were no wrinkles to see on her face, no eyebrows to contort, but her expression was one of pain.

He screeched to a stop in surprise, his claws leaving marks as they scraped across the pavement. She can speak. Theoretically, this would simplify any interaction, but he was drawing a blank as to how he should respond.

It was the recognition of agony that made him snap out of it. She was more than a confused fellow monster, but a potential patient.

He stood up on his hind legs and reached out a pleading hand. "Please, I-- I just want to help!"

He was a strange-looking monster, but no magic radiated from his body. Not an Esper. He was not someone she recognized, despite having met him once before; her head wasn't in a place for such recollections.

Even if he was not close enough to touch her, she jerked backwards in the air like she were afraid of being burned. Or, perhaps, of burning him in return. Those grotesquely proportioned hands pressed against her face, practically glowing — no, literally glowing, whiter than her fur. Her words were muffled in her palms, but when she darted to the left in renewed flight, it was a different sound that followed. The clouds were not suited for it in the cold March snap, yet still a stray bolt of lightning struck down against the pavement, crackling in a way unlike ordinary thunder. It marked the spot she fled, and harmed nothing else.

A warning, perhaps.

He jumped back when the lightning hit, startled. He was easily out of his league here, and by all rights he should just go home and call someone else in to keep an eye out.

But something about those hands, the proportions of them. She was something wholly other, far beyond anything he'd ever been or would be, but he couldn't help seeing parallels to himself in her.

He'd hesitated too long, she'd have a good lead on him by now. He leaped to the wall across the street and climbed it to the roof, hoping he might be able to catch a glimpse. After all, wasn't helping those who couldn't control their abilities what they'd tried to do all along?

Despite her speed, Terra's disjointed flight had not taken her very far. Part of her, that of the more confused, instinctual reactions, wanted to hurtle her at top speeds to the nearest and most powerful source force of magic to be found. In her own world, following that instinct had led her to old man Ramuh and answers to her past; here, the rest of her knew, following that path would deposit her on Illidan's doorstep. He was, quite obviously, the last person she wished to see as powerful as she was now.

But her power and direction were both things she struggled to control, emotions flaring; she acted like a fly in a bell jar, shooting twenty yards this way and thirty that, barely turning or slowing each direction she went.

If the blue creature without magic were still following her, she did not notice.

It was hard to get any good visibility in Manhattan. Hank had to climb high to get any kind of a vantage point, and by then any activity on the streets beyond was outside his vision. Even with his enhanced sense, it was hard to pinpoint anything over the din of the City, but if he listened carefully he could still pick up what he thought might've been her.

As he leaped from building to building, he was momentarily envious of Spider-Man's weblines. They must've made maneuvering intracity travel much quicker! He had to compensate for her erratic changes in direction, but before long he found himself at the top of a block she was just turning into.

With one final pounce, he landed on the wall ahead of her. Tackling might've been the most direct approach, but he was still afraid. Gaining her attention, trying to appeal to her better nature, and maintaining pursuit if he could manage neither of those, seemed a safer course of action at the moment.

It was easy to ignore or miss noticing being chased, but when the blue creature was before her once again, Terra nearly gave herself whiplash in her own flight, stopping and kicking backwards in fright. She had already been attacked once today, and again and again before now in this form; what would this monster do to her?

In her fear and suffering she tore at the sides of her head, cutting at hair and skin both, blood running rivulets down her cheeks and temples, sticking to fingers glowing with magical power. She just wanted everything to stop, wanted somewhere to go, somewhere she could be safe, away, away, away — with a scream she flung her arms outward, ice forming in the cold air around the other monster, solidifying and crystallizing around him with a sickening crunch. In the moment it would take for the ice to crumble away into nothing, Terra was off again like a comet, refusing to think any more about this.

He was flash-frozen before he knew what hit him, only having enough time to adopt a look of utter shock. Not the first time he'd been encased in ice, given the company he kept, but far from what he'd been expecting. It held him that way for a few seconds before beginning to crack, at which point he put all of his strength into bursting out.

He lost his footing as he did so and fell nearly twenty feet before catching himself against the wall again, and even through his fur, a deep chill shook him to the core. It took a moment for him to return his attention to the pursuit, but he was left only glancing out in the direction she'd sped off in.

The trail had gone quite literally cold. He had not only failed, but possibly only frightened her more than she already had been.

Spider-Man was webslinging back to work after a late lunch when his spider-sense blared a warning. Instinctively, he cut his weblines and dropped just in time for something to blast inches above his head with the characteristic whoosh of a flying superbeing.

"Hey! I'm swinging here!" he yelled, even as he fell. Not missing a beat, he anchored a line on a flagpole and slingshotted himself back upwards and into hot pursuit. Anyone flying that fast over downtown not-really-Manhattan was dangerously oblivious, in trouble, or up to no good, any of which meant that Spider-Man planned to investigate.

The mysterious flier was fast at top speed but moving erratically for the moment, making catching up easier than he'd expected. As Spidey closed in, he saw the flames flickering like a gutting candle, the fur flecked with what looked to be blood, and winced inwardly. A distressed superhuman whose powers made them dangerous to bystanders -- it wasn't quite the worst possible scenario, but only just.

"Hey, man! Uh, ma'am," he added hastily as he drew close enough to get a good look at his target. "If you don't mind my saying so, you look like you could use a hand."

The more she tried to wrestle these powers, the stronger they seemed to become and harder to control; no amount of wishing or fighting was reverting her to her human form. She flew higher now, and would continue until she burned out. If that's what it took—

She was being pursued again. Fear fueled her as much from outside forces as it did her own surged powers, but this time was different. She knew that voice. She recognized that faint prickling along her senses of a foreign magic, stronger now; it was like a tight cloud of colored smoke, and the sudden familiarity made her shudder in mid air.

It was not a face he'd remember that turned to look at Spider-Man, but there was recognition in her fearful eyes. At least, there was, before the beast curled upon itself and changed direction once again, trying to flee.

Spidey twisted to follow her, almost somersaulting mid-air. The way she'd looked at him -- he knew he'd never seen that face before, but something indefinable about her expression spoke to him. As much as he wanted to help her, he also needed to find out why.

"I'm not going to hurt you!" he called after her, the faintest edge of urgency in his voice. "I just want to help!"

It was hard for her to think. It was one thing to inadvertently tell a person you were a monster, but something else entirely different to reveal oneself as a monster. The first time he'd seen her Esper form, Zelgadis had almost killed her; Keith had tried strangling her in his apartment (and they'd been dating at the time); Lina, who had no idea that the monster was a friend of hers, had succeeded.

Even if she could not recall each instance with clarity, that sense of danger fueled her movements. How could she trust that this time would be different? She didn't want to hurt anyone, no matter the damage she received, but she couldn't—

"Stay away from me!" The voice was distorted by pain and a ravaged throat, but still distinctly human.

And that was when it all came together, so suddenly that Spidey almost let go of his webline. The eyes, tantalizingly familiar; the voice, equally so; the slight, green-haired figure in his mind's eye, insisting she was a monster...

"Terra?! Terra, wait -- it's me! Spider-Man! Do you recognize me?"

... the same woman, now blonde and oh so very relieved to be powerless, insisting that she was thankful her own friend had murdered her.

"Damnit, webhead," he said to himself, then raised his voice again, straining to be heard over the growing distance between them. "Terra, I don't want to hurt you! I'm your friend, I want to help!"

Edited 2011-04-01 03:16 (UTC)

He might as well have tied her legs with webbing; at the sound of the name, the creature—Terra—spiraled to a stop midair, hanging there like the wick of a candle, small and white compared to the fire. For a moment, the pale red light of flame flickering around her seemed to dim.

Yet, for the stillness of her flight, the motion elsewhere was more apparent: her shoulders and arms shook and her legs trembled, and her hands, where they grabbed at her body, would not lay still. She seemed to wrap around herself for some measure of stability, as if holding tight to her torso or her head would somehow keep her in one piece. Her hands were clutching at her shoulders, and new blood trickled out from beneath her fingers.

Spidey took advantage of the pause to catch up, taking up a perch at Terra's level on the side of a glass-walled skyscraper, close enough so they could hear each other but far enough that he hoped she wouldn't be spooked.

"Terra, I don't ... I don't understand what's happening, but you're hurt. Let me -- let me get you some help, Doctor Strange maybe, he can heal your injuries and help you with -- with your magic..." he trailed off helplessly. For all the trips into other dimensions, the possessed artefacts and confused deities he'd had to deal with in his life, he still felt entirely out of his league faced with this otherworldly being who was apparently his friend, incandescent and in pain.

Over the rushing of blood in her ears and the crackle of not-there electricity, Terra could still make out the sound of Spidey's voice. The problem was how hard it was to focus on anything. She didn't know who he was talking about, but no, she didn't want to go anywhere with anyone—she didn't want anyone helping her, examining her, trying to decode the secrets of her power. She couldn't—not again.

"No." Her voice wavered for her physical instability, rather than emotional weakness; the beast shook her head, long tresses of white seeming to tremble where they fell. "No, no, I won't—"

It was wrong, wrong, it was all wrong! The wind was hard against her face for the speed of her flight, yanking at the longer, thicker clumps of fur at her elbows and legs, dragging through her mane of hair. She hurtled skyward with arms wrapped tight around her torso, her talons cutting through flesh over her ribs, red blood dyeing and matting spiky clumps of white fur; her eyes were held tightly shut against the sun and blood across her face, flame wrapped around her to protect her from the chill of the higher altitude. All these things — the weapons that were her own hands, the structure of her second face, this body and this power — were parts of Terra she'd believed cut away. Crystallized into stone and shattered beyond repair, Terra had believed this part of her life, that this part of her would be gone for good. That she would have the chance to be truly free of this monstrous form and overwhelming powers. That she could be ordinary, to experience a regular, normal human life, so why—

Her fingers dug into into her ribs and tore free, bloodied hands clutching at her hand as magical power ran through her like a downed electrical wire. It was too much, too sudden, and even for the fire burning around her magic roiled through her and out of her, volcanic. Why did it hurt so much? Why couldn't she turn back? Why had so many people looked on her with fear, attacked her? Was she truly so irredeemable as that? She felt sick, overflowing with sorrow and frustration and pain; the unanswered whys clung to her like lacerations. Terra cried, and screamed, voice like that a falcon, pushing herself higher.

The chaos had caught Bob's attention long before Terra turned back skyward; but that was when he affixed a source to the commotion he'd been hearing over the City, that streak of fire against the sky that was definitely not a star. Who was it? What did they want? He had taken up into flight himself before he even thought about it, golden light in his wake.

His first instinct was, of course, to try and stop her. As he approached he noticed the blood, heard her scream, and zoomed toward her faster. His chest tightened, heart beating quickly: his face registered no chance in expression, nothing but business, but his mind felt a slight press of fear. So familiar, this display. It reminded him of--

-- And then he had passed her, circling back to wrap his arms around her fiery, writhing form.

Weakened and hateful as she was, she should have been an easy catch at that ascent. She was not. With strength exceeding that of humans, her lean arms and proportionately skewed hands ripped through the air, fingers tense and talons already stained. Legs churned and kicked at what she could, the rest of her trying to shake free. She did not want this power, and more so did not want to suffer as she was, but the fear of something like capture drove her with new strength.

She didn't know who, or what this person was, if he was a person at all. The fire seemed to crackle around her.

Strong as she was, Bob kept his grip, trying to calm her down like one might a stampeding horse. The difficulty was that she kept moving. Her talons tore at his costume, his cape, but left his skin unblemished. His eyes burned with light.

"What are you?" He asked, trying to pin her arms down to her sides. "You have to stop this. I don't know what's the matter--" The stars around them seemed to vanish, unimportant compared to the combined illumination of the two of them, "you have to let it go!"

The more he tried to force her this way or that, the more she struggled, arms trying to twist out of his grip. But if brute force wouldn't cut it... Power gathered in her hands, a fierce and almost feral look crossing her face. She didn't answer the questions — not if he was fighting her, not if he was trying to take her captive. The words he spoke rolled past her.

The only answer she gave was a single word—"Meteor"—through clenched teeth. The white-hot power in her hands dissipated, but hardly dampened the magic that still raged through and upon her. And there, above the sounds of everything else came the whistling of rocks aflame from above them.

Her spells had very logical and concise names.

Magic, was it? Bob just hated magic. He curled his body so that his back was toward the meteors, protecting the girl(?) while simultaneously refusing to let go. "Damn--"

He hissed through his teeth, attempting to fly around the fiery rock and bring her higher up, above them. Hopefully someone else would catch the meteors before they did real damage.

Or they'd simply cease to be once they got far enough away from their target; that was always a positive thing. The creature seemed to have little care if she were hit, though, trying to thrash her way into this or that meteor's path as they fell. The further up he took them, the fewer there were to dodge, but the pounding in Terra's head just grew worse, continuing to struggle.

Her voice was rasped from screaming, and only worsened in sound. "Let... me... go!"

"No." And he didn't. Bob kept his grip around her tight, struggling against her frantic thrashings but refusing to release her lest she dive back downward and set fire to the City. The wind crackled loudly around them and then silenced, as he flew her higher to where there was no wind to blow.

"You have to stop. You have to stop now."

"I'm trying!" she shouted, furious and frustrated, head spinning from power and altitude; the blood pumping through her felt molten and glacial. But even with the concession of an answer, she continued thrashing. "Let me go, or I'll—"

A new sensation, there: even with the still quivering power twisting inside her, the pain manifesting as every element possibly could, the pounding, swimming in her head seemed to be getting lighter, but not with alleviation. She closed and forced her eyes open several times, trying to chase the dizziness away.

"I won't--" Higher and higher, the momentum of his flying blowing his hair across his face. "Let you go. I can't until you stop."

He twisted, nearing the cusp of atmosphere. The dwindling oxygen didn't bother him; he barely noticed it. "What's the matter?"

It wasn't just that she couldn't think. She could hardly breathe. The hyperventilation and the struggling weren't helping her. He was too strong, and it was a surprise she hadn't snapped her bones in half trying to break that grip. She felt so muddled, she barely recall the names of her spells.

Terra had never learned much about science. Even excusing the limited knowledge of the subject in her own world, Terra had never learned much about any subject, really. What would have been the point, after all? She was specimen more than person in her capture to the Empire, not even permitted her own thoughts outside the capital city. As such, Terra had no way of knowing that the higher up you went from sea level, the less oxygen to breathe. She didn't know it was specifically oxygen that her lungs needed, and had no clue that starving the brain of such would cause it and the rest of her body to shut down.

But she was familiar with the burn of suffocation in this body. "Buh," she gasped, trying to force something out, power growing around her—but her body gave up on her at last, eyes and head rolling back, the white glow dissipating from her hands. They sputtered and died down, but the red-white flames were not completely banished. She glowed like burning charcoal, and felt practically as hot.

When her body stopped thrashing and burning, Bob circled the sky again, noting that she was unconscious. Not great, but it was the only solution he'd been able to think of without having to fight her.

His brows quirked, concerned, but he swooped back down lower in the atmosphere. He wasn't sure where to leave her that would be safe, and instead sharply turned to fly towards his MAC apartment. It was aesthetically nice in that he and Jessica had taken the time to decorate it, but other than that it was sparsely furnished and clean. He came in through the window, setting her down on the couch. He'd write a note, maybe. That way she wouldn't be surprised when she woke up in a strange room.

vrrrmmmmm

locked | esper-chan mikoto

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DX1Vf5lIRXE started playing while I was writing this.

WELP THIS IS A BOSS BATTLE SO IT NEEDS EPIC MUSIC HAHA

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open yo | lemme know what you want

whoops i hope this doesn't end badly for him

oh, a little singeing never hurt anyone... nah, he'll come out just as fine as you want him to.

he's no wolverine, but he heals okay

oh then he'll be fine, promise.

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/laaaaaaaaaaaaaate (._.)

locked | oh bob your hair is so pretty when you wash it

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