Post by Wachter on Feb 6, 2019 8:01:42 GMT
Cassie Cain Hates Spider-Man #3
Legacy
Jackrabbit No More Part 3
She is the Immortal Iron Fist. She holds back the storm when nothing else can.
The window shattered as Ben kicked his way through it and flung himself to the ceiling. It was a wide-open floor with all the signs of an ongoing redesign and rebranding. It was also one floor above his attacker with the freaky arrows. He tried to crawl along it but every time he moved his hands, they'd stick to the tiles, shaking it and sending the dust everywhere. This was the problem with working outside his gimmick. Hadn't trained the minute muscle control needed to relax and release through his gloves.
He yanked a hand free, ripping the square tile from the dropped ceiling, he winced when it smashed through the hanging plastic of renovation. If his attacker didn't know this was where he was before, they did now. Stupid, sticky fingers.
Gloves. Get rid of the gloves. Worry about fingerprints after being chewed out by the shady government agencies. Ben stuffed them inside his jacket. That felt better. So much better. His fingers could breathe again.
A sigh of relief.
Followed by a weak wave hello.
His assailant had found him. He watched her – a different her than the one who attacked him on the street, same weird ninja mask but no scarf or yellow winged serpent-like decoration on her black suit – watch him in the dark with a marginally confused look on her face. What? Had she never seen a boy stand on the ceiling, rubbing his tender fingers together before? Couldn't be that unusual in her line of work when she shot crazy magic arrows like lightning bolts from that simple bow of hers.
She raised her bow. He turned his wave into what it was meant to be. Disarming. The grapple shot out of his wrist, yanking the weapon out of her hands, slinging it crashing out of yet another window before the line snapped back. Good thing the buyer was already fixing things. Might start to feel bad about all that property damage if he kept it up. His other grapple ripped through the plastic curtains, whipping up dust, plaster, and anything else caught in the air. After that, she saw nothing. Ben had vanished.
Hey, Ben.
Sup?
Any idea who you pissed off enough to send twin teenage ninja assassin girls after you?
No clue.
At least this one isn't as good.
Yeah…
Don't forget to do the dishes when you get home.
Good talk, Ben.
Hiding behind a workbench, the teenage ninja assassin girl could not make her way silently through the mess he left behind. Ben grinned beneath his great-grandfather's mask. All that moving quickly definitely broke open a stitch or two from the feel of it but at least he had what he presumed to be confirmation that this one wasn't nearly as talented as the one who left him bleeding to death. Lucky him. That meant she was still out there.
Time to deal with the second stringer first.
Ben jumped out from cover halfway across the giant room from the workbench and immediately twisted in the narrow space between two bolts of crimson lightning, bending his body in an inhuman manner. C'mon! Dartguns, really?! He rolled across a table. The roll turned into a leap and a spin sideways in midair to avoid another red arrow. May not have mastered wallcrawling but he certainly knew how to jump. Even in tiny spaces like this.
He stuck a landing behind her, ducking beneath her overhead spin kick and flipping off the ground to avoid her leg sweep, knocking one of the tiny crossbows out of her hands with the heel of his foot. It was painfully easy – no almost painfully easy, he could feel the wet stain growing on the inside of his jacket – to avoid her strikes. Experience fighting her better half combined with the Chikara Dojo presented him many openings to take her out as he stretched the fight along. His gut, when it wasn't hurting, instinct read that she left herself open on purpose.
"You don't look like you're from around here," his hand squeezed down on her remaining dartgun, crushing it and tossing it backwards as he launched himself to the ceiling, "but you have this Star City vibe to you. Did you know the Green Arrow and Speedy?"
The teenage ninja assassin girl's eyes flashed red with anger. Not a metaphor. Her eyes flashed with the same weird energy she had put into those arrows and bolts.
"Uh, sorry," slowly Ben began back away from her, his feet sticking to the ceiling serving to make him look even more like a clown. "Was that bowist of me? Rangist? I know it's totally wrong to think all you archers have some sort of club or connection. I like archers. They're cool. Wanted to grow up to be one but my, uh, body had different ideas. Kinda too poor to afford a bow that can handle my draw strength."
Her fists glowed red just as her counterpart's daggers had earlier. No. That wasn't quite true. There was something pure, clean, about his first attacker. The energy didn't seem as forced out. It didn't crackle with unleashed fury. It had been restrained, channeled.
Ben's back to the window, he risked a glance over his shoulder before raising his hands in surrender. "I'm just tossing this out there but I'm guessing you have anger issues."
It wouldn't work twice. He knew it wouldn't. That's why he changed the game up as both grapple lines shot from his wrist. The girl snatched one out of the air, yanking him towards her as he too yanked the only reasonable thing he could think of to them. Turned into one giant mess.
The ladder smashed into her back. Not before her glowing fist connected with his chest in an incredibly painful punch. His tears filled his goggles (note to self: fix that if the goggles become a mainstay) as they tumbled backwards, bouncing hard against the floor, until they came to a stop before crashing through yet another window. Stopping only because Ben grabbed the floor and wouldn't let go.
He wanted to take a moment, just take a moment, for himself to cry. And to clean out his great-grandfather's antique of a mask before he ruined it with his snot and whatever he currently was coughing up. Bad plan. Bad, bad plan.
The girl didn't want to give him that moment. Two fingers burrowed into one of his open wounds, the agony hot. Almost as bad as losing one of his stingers. She pulled back a glowing fist to end it.
Brrrring! Brrrring!
His headbutt to her face took her by more surprise than the sudden phone ringing. Free, he snatched up the nearby ladder and brought it down on her. Or through her? He wasn't sure how to best describe it. Staggering, she was slender enough to fit between the rungs. Slender enough so that he could crush and twist the metal of the ladder to immobilize her.
The look on the top half of her face was pure murder. All in the eyes.
"Sorry. In my defense, it was my defense." Then he applied the real-world counterpart to the Vulcan Nerve Pinch to her to knock her out – thank you, Colleen. Not entirely confident another blow to her head would just knock her out. Extremely unconfident that the twisted metal of the ladder would actually hold her for long.
He caught her as her legs folded before she could fall and lowered her more gently than she deserved to the floor.
Brrrring! Brrrring!
The phone was still ringing. Cradling his side, he made his way to the far wall it hung on. He picked up the receiver with a grunt that understood the night was halfway over at best. Who was to say there wasn't a third Crazy Teenage Ninja Assassin Girl out to get him?
"Should it be Teenage Ninja Assassin Girl," he asked the other person on the line, "or Assassin Ninja Girl? I've been wracking my brain over it all night. I mean for the former, it kinda implies the girl only assassinates ninjas depending on the context. And I'm not really a ninja. The latter on the other hand… she's a ninja who also happens to be an assassin."
"What?" Felicity's tone said he had appropriately left her dazed and confused over his idiotic question instead of just angry over his idiocy. "Aren't ninjas already assassins?"
"Not necessarily. Sometimes they're spies."
"… That's. I… Just… How stupid are you?"
His fingers came away from his side damp and red in the night. "Very. Could have used that distraction a little earlier. Thanks by the way."
"No. I don't want your thanks. You're not welcome. Not until I get that pizza you promised… Which I can't get if you're dead so jump back out of that building and go home."
"Did you specify pizza?" Ben held the phone with just his head and shoulder as he ripped strips from his shirt to awkwardly tie around the more weeping wounds. "Thought it was just food. Plus, I never promised."
"Pizza. Time to leave, Jack."
"Nah. Got a feeling that the other Crazy Teenage Ninja Assassin is here. They have me curious as to why they're doing their best not to kill me. Just gotta figure out how to make them talk… Maybe they don't know English. They are Asian. Hmm. Another bad assumption. Like thinking all archers have a club called the Quiver where they hang out and talk about who has the best fletching."
Felicity let him ramble. "Jack, they're not gonna be the ones who kill you."
"I know," pretty sure it's me, he finished silently. "Did you call Shadowcat and Friends?"
"No. The other girl is on the top floors, just sitting, waiting on you."
He appreciated that. He really did. Felicity was such a terrible friend. His brain screamed at him to call for help.
"I'll get you that pizza, now where's the nearest elevator?"
---
The CEO's office. It looked finished compared to the rest of the building. Oliver Queen, the Green Arrow, used to not work here by day. Probably stared out the ridiculous floor to ceiling windows, brooding over the nature of his city. Ben wished he could fanboy out more but he was on the clock. Had himself a curfew tonight measured by however much blood he could afford to lose.
There was quite the Far Eastern influence to the design. Paintings, chairs, plants. Some feng shui going on here. It contrasted jarringly with the giant R on the wall. If he was a gambling man, he bet that R used to be a Q. Nice carpet though. Very soft. Comfy even.
In a room adjacent to the office – probably where the new board members would meet – his original attacker kneeled on the bare floor, her back to him. Her yellow scarf was next to her. Same with her boots. Crazy Teenage Ninja Assassin Girl meditated. Good to know.
"She is the Immortal Iron Fist. She holds back the storm when no one else can."
Ben jumped. He truly did. And he cursed words that would have him fearing for his life if his mom heard them. A man in a business suit with curly dark blond hair had managed to sneak up on him. The guy seemed oddly relaxed given the whole situation. Ben just could not comprehend who would ever wear a tie decorated with cute little penguins. Never mind that his suit was rumpled and said tie hanging loose around his neck.
"Ah. You weren't gifted with that instinct. That makes your survival all the more remarkable."
"What instinct?" Ben kept the girl in the corner of his vision. She hadn't budged an inch since his arrival. His exclamation didn't cause a single stir. "And who are you?"
"The new owner of this building, Cassie's," he nodded towards the Immortal Iron Fist, "guardian, and Emi's current caretaker."
"Emi?"
"She didn't introduce herself?" The man frowned, drawing his scruffy cheeks taut. "She will be reprimanded for that. You have my sincerest apologies." He put a fist to an open palm and bowed before Ben.
Despite being stricken somewhat speechless over the absurdity of the situation, Ben felt the need to point out, "Your Immortal Iron Fist didn't introduce herself either."
"Ah, well, there's a reason for that."
Ben waited to find out the reason.
It was not forthcoming.
"Hmm, I'd say you have a good eleven – maybe twelve minutes left in you. Manners notwithstanding, Emi is not as skilled as her sister in holding back her killer instinct. I expected less."
Less what? Ben didn't even bother to ask that one.
"Shang bu!" barked the man.
The girl slowly rose to her feet. She turned and faced them, bowing. Her eyes flinched with the show of respect. No other reaction. Just the twitch of her eye that he recognized from all his current agony filled feelings.
"I wager the two of you are about even at the moment. Perhaps you hold the advantage currently," the man noticeably backstepped away from Ben. "Should you emerge the victor, I advise you not to use that kick on anyone else unless you desire a death on your hand."
Ben had a sinking idea he knew where this was going. Well, he already knew where it was going. Had known the instant he put on the Spider-Man's mask. There would be a round two. He just didn't expect to fight a sub-boss first.
"Kaishi!"
The combatants held their positions though Ben understood the meaning behind the word. Impossible not to given the situation. The Immortal Iron Fist assumed her lack of a fighting stance, stance. Complete relaxation. Not confidence. Knowledge. She was so sure of herself. What must it be like to feel that way about yourself? The idea was nearly a foreign concept to him. It made him feel defeated before the rematch had began. So disappointing being disappointed in yourself.
His shoulders sagged. His body slouched. He hurt so much. So very much. He held his side in screaming agony across from her and placed his feet apart, planted on the carpet. He raised his uninjured – or rather, relatively uninjured – arm in one of the formal stances Colleen taught him. Somewhere behind him, he sensed the unnamed man nod his head in approval.
Neither one began. Neither one took that first step, took the initiative the gain some sort of advantage. He remembered her content to counter his every action during their first engagement. She probably intended to do that again. The minutes stretched. He made no move forward, instead he winced and grew increasingly concerned about the wet splotches on his hoodie. There was a chance he might be able to rush her. He was assuredly quicker, faster. However, the pain was too much. His mind dwelled on it too much.
"Kaishi!" shouted the man a second time.
A flicker of worry crossed Cassie's face. Without her mask pulled up over the lower half of her face, Ben noticed it had quite a cherubic tilt to it. He watched her jaw clench in an expression he mirrored beneath his mask.
The Iron Fist struck. She dashed from the meeting room, between the glass walls that allowed him to see into it. Her fist glowed gold. Already she intended to finish this in their first exchange.
Ben backflipped. In front of him, the one who held back the storm fell. He had yanked the carpet right out from beneath her feet. It stuck to his thin shoes, ripped straight off the floor.
"You may have prepared the battlefield but you don't live here," he clutched his side, fingers rubbing against the torn stiches. "I do. This is my city. And I'm done playing." Ben turned away from her and began limping away. "This was stupid."
He heard her rise back up, a light grunt hissing between her lips. There was no hiding the shocked confusion on the man's face. Whatever outcome he expected, this was not it. The fight was over before it began. It hadn't managed to last long to even be considered a battle.
"If you want to fight again then heal up. I'll be doing the same while repeatedly calling myself a dumbass for ever thinking it was a good idea to come here tonight."
It was anti-climatic. It was ridiculous. That was okay to Ben. It was over.
For now.
He'd get his answers another time.
Legacy
Jackrabbit No More Part 3
She is the Immortal Iron Fist. She holds back the storm when nothing else can.
The window shattered as Ben kicked his way through it and flung himself to the ceiling. It was a wide-open floor with all the signs of an ongoing redesign and rebranding. It was also one floor above his attacker with the freaky arrows. He tried to crawl along it but every time he moved his hands, they'd stick to the tiles, shaking it and sending the dust everywhere. This was the problem with working outside his gimmick. Hadn't trained the minute muscle control needed to relax and release through his gloves.
He yanked a hand free, ripping the square tile from the dropped ceiling, he winced when it smashed through the hanging plastic of renovation. If his attacker didn't know this was where he was before, they did now. Stupid, sticky fingers.
Gloves. Get rid of the gloves. Worry about fingerprints after being chewed out by the shady government agencies. Ben stuffed them inside his jacket. That felt better. So much better. His fingers could breathe again.
A sigh of relief.
Followed by a weak wave hello.
His assailant had found him. He watched her – a different her than the one who attacked him on the street, same weird ninja mask but no scarf or yellow winged serpent-like decoration on her black suit – watch him in the dark with a marginally confused look on her face. What? Had she never seen a boy stand on the ceiling, rubbing his tender fingers together before? Couldn't be that unusual in her line of work when she shot crazy magic arrows like lightning bolts from that simple bow of hers.
She raised her bow. He turned his wave into what it was meant to be. Disarming. The grapple shot out of his wrist, yanking the weapon out of her hands, slinging it crashing out of yet another window before the line snapped back. Good thing the buyer was already fixing things. Might start to feel bad about all that property damage if he kept it up. His other grapple ripped through the plastic curtains, whipping up dust, plaster, and anything else caught in the air. After that, she saw nothing. Ben had vanished.
Hey, Ben.
Sup?
Any idea who you pissed off enough to send twin teenage ninja assassin girls after you?
No clue.
At least this one isn't as good.
Yeah…
Don't forget to do the dishes when you get home.
Good talk, Ben.
Hiding behind a workbench, the teenage ninja assassin girl could not make her way silently through the mess he left behind. Ben grinned beneath his great-grandfather's mask. All that moving quickly definitely broke open a stitch or two from the feel of it but at least he had what he presumed to be confirmation that this one wasn't nearly as talented as the one who left him bleeding to death. Lucky him. That meant she was still out there.
Time to deal with the second stringer first.
Ben jumped out from cover halfway across the giant room from the workbench and immediately twisted in the narrow space between two bolts of crimson lightning, bending his body in an inhuman manner. C'mon! Dartguns, really?! He rolled across a table. The roll turned into a leap and a spin sideways in midair to avoid another red arrow. May not have mastered wallcrawling but he certainly knew how to jump. Even in tiny spaces like this.
He stuck a landing behind her, ducking beneath her overhead spin kick and flipping off the ground to avoid her leg sweep, knocking one of the tiny crossbows out of her hands with the heel of his foot. It was painfully easy – no almost painfully easy, he could feel the wet stain growing on the inside of his jacket – to avoid her strikes. Experience fighting her better half combined with the Chikara Dojo presented him many openings to take her out as he stretched the fight along. His gut, when it wasn't hurting, instinct read that she left herself open on purpose.
"You don't look like you're from around here," his hand squeezed down on her remaining dartgun, crushing it and tossing it backwards as he launched himself to the ceiling, "but you have this Star City vibe to you. Did you know the Green Arrow and Speedy?"
The teenage ninja assassin girl's eyes flashed red with anger. Not a metaphor. Her eyes flashed with the same weird energy she had put into those arrows and bolts.
"Uh, sorry," slowly Ben began back away from her, his feet sticking to the ceiling serving to make him look even more like a clown. "Was that bowist of me? Rangist? I know it's totally wrong to think all you archers have some sort of club or connection. I like archers. They're cool. Wanted to grow up to be one but my, uh, body had different ideas. Kinda too poor to afford a bow that can handle my draw strength."
Her fists glowed red just as her counterpart's daggers had earlier. No. That wasn't quite true. There was something pure, clean, about his first attacker. The energy didn't seem as forced out. It didn't crackle with unleashed fury. It had been restrained, channeled.
Ben's back to the window, he risked a glance over his shoulder before raising his hands in surrender. "I'm just tossing this out there but I'm guessing you have anger issues."
It wouldn't work twice. He knew it wouldn't. That's why he changed the game up as both grapple lines shot from his wrist. The girl snatched one out of the air, yanking him towards her as he too yanked the only reasonable thing he could think of to them. Turned into one giant mess.
The ladder smashed into her back. Not before her glowing fist connected with his chest in an incredibly painful punch. His tears filled his goggles (note to self: fix that if the goggles become a mainstay) as they tumbled backwards, bouncing hard against the floor, until they came to a stop before crashing through yet another window. Stopping only because Ben grabbed the floor and wouldn't let go.
He wanted to take a moment, just take a moment, for himself to cry. And to clean out his great-grandfather's antique of a mask before he ruined it with his snot and whatever he currently was coughing up. Bad plan. Bad, bad plan.
The girl didn't want to give him that moment. Two fingers burrowed into one of his open wounds, the agony hot. Almost as bad as losing one of his stingers. She pulled back a glowing fist to end it.
Brrrring! Brrrring!
His headbutt to her face took her by more surprise than the sudden phone ringing. Free, he snatched up the nearby ladder and brought it down on her. Or through her? He wasn't sure how to best describe it. Staggering, she was slender enough to fit between the rungs. Slender enough so that he could crush and twist the metal of the ladder to immobilize her.
The look on the top half of her face was pure murder. All in the eyes.
"Sorry. In my defense, it was my defense." Then he applied the real-world counterpart to the Vulcan Nerve Pinch to her to knock her out – thank you, Colleen. Not entirely confident another blow to her head would just knock her out. Extremely unconfident that the twisted metal of the ladder would actually hold her for long.
He caught her as her legs folded before she could fall and lowered her more gently than she deserved to the floor.
Brrrring! Brrrring!
The phone was still ringing. Cradling his side, he made his way to the far wall it hung on. He picked up the receiver with a grunt that understood the night was halfway over at best. Who was to say there wasn't a third Crazy Teenage Ninja Assassin Girl out to get him?
"Should it be Teenage Ninja Assassin Girl," he asked the other person on the line, "or Assassin Ninja Girl? I've been wracking my brain over it all night. I mean for the former, it kinda implies the girl only assassinates ninjas depending on the context. And I'm not really a ninja. The latter on the other hand… she's a ninja who also happens to be an assassin."
"What?" Felicity's tone said he had appropriately left her dazed and confused over his idiotic question instead of just angry over his idiocy. "Aren't ninjas already assassins?"
"Not necessarily. Sometimes they're spies."
"… That's. I… Just… How stupid are you?"
His fingers came away from his side damp and red in the night. "Very. Could have used that distraction a little earlier. Thanks by the way."
"No. I don't want your thanks. You're not welcome. Not until I get that pizza you promised… Which I can't get if you're dead so jump back out of that building and go home."
"Did you specify pizza?" Ben held the phone with just his head and shoulder as he ripped strips from his shirt to awkwardly tie around the more weeping wounds. "Thought it was just food. Plus, I never promised."
"Pizza. Time to leave, Jack."
"Nah. Got a feeling that the other Crazy Teenage Ninja Assassin is here. They have me curious as to why they're doing their best not to kill me. Just gotta figure out how to make them talk… Maybe they don't know English. They are Asian. Hmm. Another bad assumption. Like thinking all archers have a club called the Quiver where they hang out and talk about who has the best fletching."
Felicity let him ramble. "Jack, they're not gonna be the ones who kill you."
"I know," pretty sure it's me, he finished silently. "Did you call Shadowcat and Friends?"
"No. The other girl is on the top floors, just sitting, waiting on you."
He appreciated that. He really did. Felicity was such a terrible friend. His brain screamed at him to call for help.
"I'll get you that pizza, now where's the nearest elevator?"
---
The CEO's office. It looked finished compared to the rest of the building. Oliver Queen, the Green Arrow, used to not work here by day. Probably stared out the ridiculous floor to ceiling windows, brooding over the nature of his city. Ben wished he could fanboy out more but he was on the clock. Had himself a curfew tonight measured by however much blood he could afford to lose.
There was quite the Far Eastern influence to the design. Paintings, chairs, plants. Some feng shui going on here. It contrasted jarringly with the giant R on the wall. If he was a gambling man, he bet that R used to be a Q. Nice carpet though. Very soft. Comfy even.
In a room adjacent to the office – probably where the new board members would meet – his original attacker kneeled on the bare floor, her back to him. Her yellow scarf was next to her. Same with her boots. Crazy Teenage Ninja Assassin Girl meditated. Good to know.
"She is the Immortal Iron Fist. She holds back the storm when no one else can."
Ben jumped. He truly did. And he cursed words that would have him fearing for his life if his mom heard them. A man in a business suit with curly dark blond hair had managed to sneak up on him. The guy seemed oddly relaxed given the whole situation. Ben just could not comprehend who would ever wear a tie decorated with cute little penguins. Never mind that his suit was rumpled and said tie hanging loose around his neck.
"Ah. You weren't gifted with that instinct. That makes your survival all the more remarkable."
"What instinct?" Ben kept the girl in the corner of his vision. She hadn't budged an inch since his arrival. His exclamation didn't cause a single stir. "And who are you?"
"The new owner of this building, Cassie's," he nodded towards the Immortal Iron Fist, "guardian, and Emi's current caretaker."
"Emi?"
"She didn't introduce herself?" The man frowned, drawing his scruffy cheeks taut. "She will be reprimanded for that. You have my sincerest apologies." He put a fist to an open palm and bowed before Ben.
Despite being stricken somewhat speechless over the absurdity of the situation, Ben felt the need to point out, "Your Immortal Iron Fist didn't introduce herself either."
"Ah, well, there's a reason for that."
Ben waited to find out the reason.
It was not forthcoming.
"Hmm, I'd say you have a good eleven – maybe twelve minutes left in you. Manners notwithstanding, Emi is not as skilled as her sister in holding back her killer instinct. I expected less."
Less what? Ben didn't even bother to ask that one.
"Shang bu!" barked the man.
The girl slowly rose to her feet. She turned and faced them, bowing. Her eyes flinched with the show of respect. No other reaction. Just the twitch of her eye that he recognized from all his current agony filled feelings.
"I wager the two of you are about even at the moment. Perhaps you hold the advantage currently," the man noticeably backstepped away from Ben. "Should you emerge the victor, I advise you not to use that kick on anyone else unless you desire a death on your hand."
Ben had a sinking idea he knew where this was going. Well, he already knew where it was going. Had known the instant he put on the Spider-Man's mask. There would be a round two. He just didn't expect to fight a sub-boss first.
"Kaishi!"
The combatants held their positions though Ben understood the meaning behind the word. Impossible not to given the situation. The Immortal Iron Fist assumed her lack of a fighting stance, stance. Complete relaxation. Not confidence. Knowledge. She was so sure of herself. What must it be like to feel that way about yourself? The idea was nearly a foreign concept to him. It made him feel defeated before the rematch had began. So disappointing being disappointed in yourself.
His shoulders sagged. His body slouched. He hurt so much. So very much. He held his side in screaming agony across from her and placed his feet apart, planted on the carpet. He raised his uninjured – or rather, relatively uninjured – arm in one of the formal stances Colleen taught him. Somewhere behind him, he sensed the unnamed man nod his head in approval.
Neither one began. Neither one took that first step, took the initiative the gain some sort of advantage. He remembered her content to counter his every action during their first engagement. She probably intended to do that again. The minutes stretched. He made no move forward, instead he winced and grew increasingly concerned about the wet splotches on his hoodie. There was a chance he might be able to rush her. He was assuredly quicker, faster. However, the pain was too much. His mind dwelled on it too much.
"Kaishi!" shouted the man a second time.
A flicker of worry crossed Cassie's face. Without her mask pulled up over the lower half of her face, Ben noticed it had quite a cherubic tilt to it. He watched her jaw clench in an expression he mirrored beneath his mask.
The Iron Fist struck. She dashed from the meeting room, between the glass walls that allowed him to see into it. Her fist glowed gold. Already she intended to finish this in their first exchange.
Ben backflipped. In front of him, the one who held back the storm fell. He had yanked the carpet right out from beneath her feet. It stuck to his thin shoes, ripped straight off the floor.
"You may have prepared the battlefield but you don't live here," he clutched his side, fingers rubbing against the torn stiches. "I do. This is my city. And I'm done playing." Ben turned away from her and began limping away. "This was stupid."
He heard her rise back up, a light grunt hissing between her lips. There was no hiding the shocked confusion on the man's face. Whatever outcome he expected, this was not it. The fight was over before it began. It hadn't managed to last long to even be considered a battle.
"If you want to fight again then heal up. I'll be doing the same while repeatedly calling myself a dumbass for ever thinking it was a good idea to come here tonight."
It was anti-climatic. It was ridiculous. That was okay to Ben. It was over.
For now.
He'd get his answers another time.