Jet was not upset. She never got upset, not in any of the memories she still possessed -- admittedly there were many missing -- had she ever been upset. The man she was beating into unconsciousness might have thought otherwise. Her fist came down again and smashed his cheekbone with the force of the strike, her knuckles were bloody and she was growling like a rabid wolf.
The bounty was for alive, but there were many states of not-dead that could be seen as still alive and Jet was walking a thin line with this guy. He wasn?t human, some type of reptile demi-god that was probably wishing he?d paid more attention to the tiny red-haired woman that came up to tell him he was being taken in and not to resist. He had swung at her. Once. It hadn?t landed.
Now his face looked like guacamole and his screams had turned to whimpers had turned to silence. Some part of her brain told her she should stop or she wouldn?t get the creds for bringing in her mark in a state that he?d only be good for making belts and boots. Her arm co cked back for another blow and stopped, a drop of blood falling down into a pool that had formed on the street. Pushing off the lizard-mans chest to gain her footing again she looked down at the wreck that was her mark. ?Nine hundred hells, I?m going to have to patch him up before I take him in.? She leaned over him and said in a very menacing tone. ?If you try to die on me I will make sure you regret it.?
The lizard man moaned and she took that to mean he understood. Retrieving her pack she pulled out her medkit and staunched the worst of the wounds. There were people watching, in that oh-so-subtle way that gawkers had when they couldn?t look away from the train wreck. She ignored them, tossing the mostly unconscious lizard-man over her shoulder like he was a ragdoll and starting toward the address she was given for the drop off. She would drop him off, get paid, and then... her mind pulled up a picture of Brooklyn. Sitting there with a beer in front of him, not looking at her but waves of disappointment and rage coming off him.
The gawkers fled at the sound of her roar, lifting the lizard man up over her head and throwing him at a wall. Good thing he was a demi-god or he definitely would have died from the impact, as it was there was the crunch of bones submitting to the force and breaking and then the sickly sound of a bag of broken bones as he fell to the unforgiving street. The wall showed fractures where he had struck it and there was a trail of blood from the impact point to the puddle of lizard man on the ground.
The sound that had come from her was inhuman, but instinct was strong in humans and on some level they knew it was the sound of rage and pain ? and loss so deep that anything, or anyone nearby was a target for releasing those emotions. For those too dim to get that from the scream the ease with which she threw a being three times her size did it and they ran from her, from the scene and did not even look back for fear of catching her gaze and becoming the next target.
Brooklyns words tormented her, repeating in her mind like some song that got stuck and would not set her free. It was her own fault, she knew that, knew that this day would come and that it would be her fault... that didn?t mean she was ready for it. Didn?t mean she thought it would... hurt so very much. It was like he had torn out some vital part of her and she could not move past that pain. Did not want to move past it, she needed it to remind her that she did this to everyone... would do something to drive people off. She had forgotten, and Brooklyn had reminded her...
She fell to her knees, choking as she gasped in air that did not seem to make it to her lungs. Her chest felt compressed, her heart twisted. There was no one left to see the tears that came, and for that, at least, she was thankful.
The bounty was for alive, but there were many states of not-dead that could be seen as still alive and Jet was walking a thin line with this guy. He wasn?t human, some type of reptile demi-god that was probably wishing he?d paid more attention to the tiny red-haired woman that came up to tell him he was being taken in and not to resist. He had swung at her. Once. It hadn?t landed.
Now his face looked like guacamole and his screams had turned to whimpers had turned to silence. Some part of her brain told her she should stop or she wouldn?t get the creds for bringing in her mark in a state that he?d only be good for making belts and boots. Her arm co cked back for another blow and stopped, a drop of blood falling down into a pool that had formed on the street. Pushing off the lizard-mans chest to gain her footing again she looked down at the wreck that was her mark. ?Nine hundred hells, I?m going to have to patch him up before I take him in.? She leaned over him and said in a very menacing tone. ?If you try to die on me I will make sure you regret it.?
The lizard man moaned and she took that to mean he understood. Retrieving her pack she pulled out her medkit and staunched the worst of the wounds. There were people watching, in that oh-so-subtle way that gawkers had when they couldn?t look away from the train wreck. She ignored them, tossing the mostly unconscious lizard-man over her shoulder like he was a ragdoll and starting toward the address she was given for the drop off. She would drop him off, get paid, and then... her mind pulled up a picture of Brooklyn. Sitting there with a beer in front of him, not looking at her but waves of disappointment and rage coming off him.
The gawkers fled at the sound of her roar, lifting the lizard man up over her head and throwing him at a wall. Good thing he was a demi-god or he definitely would have died from the impact, as it was there was the crunch of bones submitting to the force and breaking and then the sickly sound of a bag of broken bones as he fell to the unforgiving street. The wall showed fractures where he had struck it and there was a trail of blood from the impact point to the puddle of lizard man on the ground.
The sound that had come from her was inhuman, but instinct was strong in humans and on some level they knew it was the sound of rage and pain ? and loss so deep that anything, or anyone nearby was a target for releasing those emotions. For those too dim to get that from the scream the ease with which she threw a being three times her size did it and they ran from her, from the scene and did not even look back for fear of catching her gaze and becoming the next target.
Brooklyns words tormented her, repeating in her mind like some song that got stuck and would not set her free. It was her own fault, she knew that, knew that this day would come and that it would be her fault... that didn?t mean she was ready for it. Didn?t mean she thought it would... hurt so very much. It was like he had torn out some vital part of her and she could not move past that pain. Did not want to move past it, she needed it to remind her that she did this to everyone... would do something to drive people off. She had forgotten, and Brooklyn had reminded her...
She fell to her knees, choking as she gasped in air that did not seem to make it to her lungs. Her chest felt compressed, her heart twisted. There was no one left to see the tears that came, and for that, at least, she was thankful.