joasakura:

It would be funny under any other circumstances. The creatures were fat, deranged cherubs with bear-trap mouths and flobby boneless chicken wings, and they were a wrong hop – a distraction of Rictor’s -from home. Two degrees left of normal and this New York was grotesque and fungal, everything dim and foul.

‘Star practically shone in the grubby dark, the white armour he’d kept from mojoworld like a beacon as his swords flashed silver and clean. His hair had gotten so long, and it looked like the banner of their youth, when they had been made of fire and mad dreams.

Ric brought up his powers and the creatures scattered like the spores they were as he twisted the bones of the earth beneath them, burying them in a tidal wave of dirt and stone. ‘Star had danced away from it, backstepping over the largest sheets of stone as if he knew exactly where they’d be. Trusted Rictor to give him footing in the tide.

He shone white and silver and knife-bright in this fetid place, but then Ric faltered as he saw the red. Not the banner of fiery hair, but dark and slick against the white of the leather. “STAR!”

The warriors rolled from the waves of stone and got unsteadily to his feet. “Julio.” He said, missing the scabbards on the first try.

“Is that blood?” Ric asked dumbly, hands coming away wet as he patted Shatterstar down. “Where are you hit.”

“I think it is mostly..” Shatterstar paused, feeling his abdomen. “Oh, wait no. That’s mine.” He added with a little laugh as he sank to the ground at Rictor’s feet.

Rictor caught him, sank with him to the spongy earth. “I know you’re tired, baby. I know you’re hurt, but we can’t stay here. Are you strong enough to ‘port us again? Somewhere safe where you can heal.”

Shatterstar gently placed a blood-wet hand on Rictor’s cheek. “I just need a couple of minutes to catch my breath.”

Rictor looked over ‘Star’s shoulder to the newly-massing spores behind him. “Sure, baby. Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

:’)