Tell every creature of the night

[biiowiired]

Who| The Ψiioniic, Sam Wilson sizeofyourbaggage, and Clint Barton cognitived
What| One hell of a misunderstanding
Where| Catacombs, one of its belfries
When| 6-14
Warnings/Notes| Death by magic wand blast. It won't be pretty.

He fucked up.

"GO, get going, the wingbeathtth won't thtop!" he shouted to Sam, who he could hear on the stairs amidst the commotion of ringing bells.

The two men had initially come into Psii's musty hiding crypt to escape tracker jackers. Then Psii had discovered some new rooms and foolishly tried his hand at the belfry puzzle, confident in his genius. But intermittent bat attacks and screaming ghosts had distracted him, and he'd tugged the wrong rope. Now he sported several bites where small mouthfuls of his skin had been chomped by the bats, dribbling yellow blood. Perhaps they'd had enough of him catching them for food and wanted sweet bloody revenge. Or the bells were just making then crazy.

Behind the chaos of sound, a low thrumming pushed insistently at his auricular lobes. It did not echo, so it was not far away, but perhaps just behind the stone walls. Then the air from a small window up above changed, shifted. Anyone with eyes would have seen the light quaver before many tiny shadows. Buzzing erupted in the tower.

"FUCK!"

A glow of red and blue surrounded him as he charged the air, sparks leaping everywhere, even over Sam, a harmless web of telekinetic fingers trying to see where everything was at. Then he concentrated zaps in the pockets of air closest to them and felt some limp insect bodies begin to plop to the ground. Tracker jackers could go fuck themselves; they were nothing like Psii's favorite insect, his peaceful, hardworking bees.

Comments

[cognitived]

Clint doesn't really hear what they're shouting at each other, the crackle of lightening and the beat of wings overwhelms what hearing he has left. Which mostly means all he hears is the tone, sharp and angry. It's enough for him to move, even if he hadn't already been there.

So he shoves himself further into the room, a better angle, wanting little more than to help Sam. He's already lost a partner, and he couldn't do anything to help her. He won't make the same damn mistake here. Clint doesn't dodge when Sam aims at him, he can see he's off, but more importantly, he trusts him. So the sizzle of lighting striking true and the thump of a bat hitting the ground doesn't faze him, not when he's got Sam shouting, trackerjackers and bats swarming, and one of those troll kids aiming at his partner.

He makes a snap decision, even if he doesn't have all the facts, because Sam is in danger and the only option he'll accept is the one that gets them out. Unfortunately, he picks wrong. But the troll sends sharp sparking feelers at him, and Clint dodges, aiming to knock out his arm with a flash of lightening. It won't kill the kid, probably, but it'll hurt like hell and give them time to get out of here. Hopefully.

cw: gore!

[biiowiired]

Finally Psii could feel what might be shoes. He threw his sparks up Clint's legs hoping to trip him, but he was too late. He sensed the discharge of some great power in the air before he heard it. It slammed past the net of his own telekinesis shield, which had only been made strong enough for insects and bats. There was no chance for him to block it. He instinctively jerked to the side, but in the wrong direction.

What should have taken his arm off hit his head instead. Magic blasted through his skull, splattering the wall yellow with his blood. All at once, his red and blue sparks disappeared before his body had time to slump to the ground. His ruined face smoked with the heat of magical discharge, and blood quickly pooled beneath his head.

The bats wisely retreated, and the more aggressive tracker jackers were, for the moment, ambling in confused circles.