After finishing a mission on the ocean, Psii listened to his better instincts and returned to land where he belonged. Salt and the smell of the sea still clung to his hair, as troublesome as a sea dweller bounty hunter. He hated it. There was a sorry sight, a motley crew of humans defending their shitty piece of shore with soporific incendiaries and rusty spears. Psii picked up a group of Peacekeepers with his brain and lobbed them into the ocean as easy as blinking. He was about to continue this method of operation when he spotted a familiar figure topped with yellow hair.
At first it seemed like she was simply being an agent of chaos, as clowns do. But then, as Psii flew cautiously behind some cover and peaked around it, he realized that his moirail was terrified out of her mind. She was every bit the coordinated athlete, but she was panicking. Psii's stomach committed mutiny and free-fell into his shoes. Not again, he couldn't take another of his dearest friends being mind-controlled. Psii felt the instinct to kill whoever was shooting bubble up and fill his vision with blood, but, unfortunately, those were his allies. Psii put Harley before them, but all the same, he didn't want to kill them.
He closed his mouth where his teeth had been bared, and the murder that had so easily entered his heart dissipated. He had to pacify her instead, somehow. He wasn't very good at this. Usually it was he who was doing the freaking out.
"Harley," he said, trying to steady his voice, wondering if the rebels would mistake him for a traitor for not attacking her. He threw up a shield of sparking red and blue psi just in case, hoping the measure of power he was given could stop bullets. "It'th me. Come over here. We'll talk thith out."
for Harley
At first it seemed like she was simply being an agent of chaos, as clowns do. But then, as Psii flew cautiously behind some cover and peaked around it, he realized that his moirail was terrified out of her mind. She was every bit the coordinated athlete, but she was panicking. Psii's stomach committed mutiny and free-fell into his shoes. Not again, he couldn't take another of his dearest friends being mind-controlled. Psii felt the instinct to kill whoever was shooting bubble up and fill his vision with blood, but, unfortunately, those were his allies. Psii put Harley before them, but all the same, he didn't want to kill them.
He closed his mouth where his teeth had been bared, and the murder that had so easily entered his heart dissipated. He had to pacify her instead, somehow. He wasn't very good at this. Usually it was he who was doing the freaking out.
"Harley," he said, trying to steady his voice, wondering if the rebels would mistake him for a traitor for not attacking her. He threw up a shield of sparking red and blue psi just in case, hoping the measure of power he was given could stop bullets. "It'th me. Come over here. We'll talk thith out."