cutting_edgex23 | (no subject)

(no subject)

She bursts through the door to Milliways, letting it slam shut behind her.

Cessily's voice is abruptly cut off.

X seems not to notice. Fists clenched, eyes narrowed, body strung wire-tight with tension and frustration that she does not understand, she moves quickly across the bar floor and up the stairs.

She slips through her own door, hardly pausing to unlock it.

snikt

Most of her furniture will not survive the next few minutes.

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X-23 is causing a disturbance. It's bothersome and disorderly and it makes 494 annoyed.

He stares after her for a moment: she's not paying attention to her surroundings. He's never seen her do that.

He could leave it alone. Or he could find out why. (It's good to know these things.)

She's long gone by the time he follows up the stairs, but he remembers the way to her room, and it doesn't take long to get there. He pauses outside the door and listens. "X?"

The noises on the other side are not reassuring. He glances down: the door is ajar. More carelessness. 494 reaches out and pushes it open.

There are claw marks on the walls. Some of the plaster is missing.

The mirror above the dresser is broken; the frame is splintered.

The sheets on the bed are torn and the headboard is a mess.

And X-23 turns to face him, face scattered with healing cuts from flying splinters.

'Spooked' is not the right word at all.

(Except for how it is. A little.)

He stares.

His eyes flick away from her face, to the ravaged furniture.

494 sidesteps into the room and shuts the door behind him.

"I hope they deserved it."

They don't.

That's why she left.

But even here there is nowhere to put everything, all this roiling intensity that she does not understand.

X-23 has possibly never been more explosively dangerous.

Which is why her answer to 494's observation contains no words.

She merely launches herself at him, claws slicing through the air just to the left of his head.

Maybe a non-verbal 'get out' will work.

He moves so fast he blurs, out of her way and behind her.

An elbow aimed at her neck, and one foot at her knee.

There's no reason this should have to last.

She ducks and offers a back-kick, letting his elbow go over her head and blocking the blow of his foot.

And if this lets her get inside his guard, so much the better.

X whirls to face him, back-spinning elbow followed by claws to the sternum.

Someone appears not to be holding back.

Much.

He bends back just in time. He doesn't waste breath on any exclamations: the grunt of pain as she grazes his chest with her claws is concession enough.

There was a reason he didn't want to fight before he went back to his briefing. Now he's going to have to change.

Until then, every action deserves a better-than-equal reaction. 494 crouches, catches her eye, and takes a near-vertical leap toward her, boots aimed at her collarbones.

He moves and she drops, back hitting the floor as her legs come up.

snikt

She wants to make him bleed.

It won't be that hard.

Bleeding is easy when you get sliced with a set of claws coming from a pair of thrashing feet.

494 catches them on the thigh. His assessment is quick.

He stumbles back, one hand pressed to his leg. His lip twitches: he lets her see the pain in his face. The wreckage of bed bumps his heel.

She flips over, rolling smoothly to her feet.

Her claws are still extended.

Narrowed eyes fix on 494 for a fraction of a second, then she takes two steps forward, heel striking at his wounded leg while her claws slash across his chest.

Again.

With X-23, weight and height don't seem to matter. It's expectations and attention, he's learned, that get her in the end.

He takes the hit. And he takes advantage of the hit. She's close, after all.

One lightning-fast blow to the head. One knee to the gut. And one movement to slam her face-first into the wall, pinning her arms beneath her.

"I'm going to need a new shirt now," he sighs. "Pants too. I can't appear at my briefing like this."

Her breath is coming in quick, harsh pants.

She shouldn't be winded--

--and she's not.

X can barely move her arms, but the press of them against the wall is enough. She levers her body outward, pushing 494's back as well.

Just a little.

Just enough.

She kicks upward and back, heel striking just shy of his groin.

And when he staggers, she slams her upper body against the join of shoulder and chest, slipping away.

She doesn't stop until her back comes to rest against the wall nearest the door, eyes wide.

"Ow! Hey!"

He grinds his teeth, sagging against the wall, but he keeps his eyes on her.

"You mind telling me what all that was for?"

She doesn't answer, just stays right where she is.

Watching him.

Or maybe she's looking through him.

Her arms, however, are at her sides.

And eventually, slowly, her fists unclench.

And she sheathes her claws.

All of them.

Her eyes are still wide.

"I do not understand."

Edited 2008-05-31 05:03 (UTC)

"That makes two of us."

494 props himself up against the wall and straightens.

"That'd better not be a normal thing for you."

Conduct like that would rack up a lot of time in bad places at Manticore.

She presses back against the wall just a little more.

Then she flattens her palms against it, pushing hard.

It does not really help.

But some weaknesses 494 does not get to see.

(She did not want him to see this, either.)

"I do not--I do not feel like this."

Her nostrils flare, and she swallows once.

Hard.

"I do not know what to do."

494 has one context for behavior like this. Usually it ends well for nobody but the researchers.
He frowns. "Have you been to a doctor?"

She stiffens, fingers going white where they press against the wall.

"No."

Beat.

"I will not."

They will not help, anyway.

494 is not trained for this situation.

This fact discomfits and displeases him.

"What are you feeling?"

He squirms. "I'm only asking because if it's contagious, I'm gone."

She slides down the wall, tucking her knees up as she sits.

And after a few moments--

A few long moments--

She rests her cheek on her knees, arms wrapping around her shins.

It is comfortable.

(It is how she sat between missions, back when she was small.)

"I do not want to hurt anyone."

She does not have the words for any of this.

Maybe if Cessily were here, or--

"[I do not know how to be like this.]"

Japanese is its own kind of comfort.

Sometimes.

Edited 2008-05-31 05:32 (UTC)

494 doesn't understand what he's looking at.

No one does this at Manticore. Not even as children, (really).

It makes him uncomfortable. This is a display fit to land someone with reprogramming.

"[You should put a stop to it, then.]"

It's only sensible.

There is a part of X-23 (a larger part every time) that says the same thing.

She has been a weapon since she was born.

That is easy.

So much easier than this. All of it.

Easier and safer, for her, for her teammates, for--

But X5-494 is like her. Like she was. He is a weapon, too. And if he thinks it is better to quit, better to go back--

"[No.]"

She shakes her head once, quick and defensive.

No.

Silence.

He thins his lips.

She's unable or unwilling to tell him what is making her act like this, this inexplicable feeling that X shouldn't have. So he tries the next best route.

"What happened before you came in here?"

He came out of the encounter with some unpleasant hurts that are in no way related to training. He should know why.

She doesn't answer, just slowly regains her feet.

Her arms are crossed in front of her, and she's still pressing back against the wall.

Then--

"I will get a first-aid kit."

Beat.

"And clothes."

Edited 2008-05-31 05:54 (UTC)

Whatever. It's nothing to him if she's going to be weird like that. (Except if he's going to be getting more cuts and bruises in the deal.)

The prospect is alarming. 494 steps away from the wall. "Oh, no no no, you're not fixing me up."

That's the implication, right? Or threat?

"The clothes I'll take, though."

She's already slipping through the door and downstairs.

If anyone looks at her strangely, blood-spattered as she is, she does not seem to notice.

When X returns, she comes back with clothes much like 494's current ensemble.

She also has a first-aid kit.

Maybe she did not hear him before.

He frowns at the offering.

Not because he's unhappy, though.

He snorts softly, reaching for the kit. "You're funny."

She looks startled again.

It's different than it was before, though.

Less desperate and afraid.

"Okay."

She leaves most of the room between them, after delivering the clothes and kit.

Call it a precaution.

Well, if she's going to be cautious around him, there's no time like the present.

The silence in the room as he cleans himself up is something like comfortable.

Which is better than otherwise.

She'll keep an eye on him until he leaves.

Just to make sure.

And then she will get to work cleaning up.

The room, that is.

At least she has the money to pay.

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