Kori knew, of course, that Jason’s silence was not out of indifference so much as it was the unwillingness to get in the middle of (yet another) lover’s quarrel. Frankly, Kori couldn’t blame him. She and Roy bickered just as often as they didn’t, and it typically didn’t take very long for one of them to try and rope Jason in to their side of the argument. Even if he did tend to take Kori’s stance on most things, it wasn’t Jason’s relationship to be taking sides in. Forcing him to have an opinion at all just wasn’t fair.
When Jay spoke, however, a wry grin pulled at the corners of Kori’s lips. Roy’s yelp only widened the expression; she’d probably scold Jason for having Henri injure him further later, but it was the redhead’s fault they were in this mess in the first place, so he may have been a bit deserving. She’d tuned out the opposition sounding over the comm (men), waiting patiently for the go-ahead from Jason.
As he spoke and loaded his gun simultaneously, the princess’ smile fell. There was a certain aura about the two of them when they fought on their own; without Roy’s easy-going attitude to lighten the situation, reign the two of them in, things tended to get serious quite quickly. There was no room for mercy, for remorse. Jason and Kori were both slightly unhinged in that way: show no weakness, take no survivors. Save the ones in white and paint the rest of the world red.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
A dark expression pulled over her features, balls of pink energy beginning to form around her hands. Starfire’s eyes glowed green as she channeled the firestars’ energy to her palms, hair aflame down her back. She followed him through the skylight, feet connecting with the face of a Triad and knocking him nearly ten feet away before ever hitting the concrete.
He forgot sometimes, just how deadly she was. A blast of energy that vaporized a crook. A screeching thrum that vibrated the air, the cells of the deceased expanding outward as his matter boiled, disintegrated. Jason wasn’t so lucky.
His death came through training and hard work, not metahuman abilities,. Still, he managed a kill count above Starfire’s. Training kicked in after the first punch was thrown at him.
Right hook. Pivot, kick to the knee. Headbutt, that means a jump backwards, then a flying knee. He’s got a gun. Slash upwards, then slice horizontal. Severed his carotid. Grab the body, absorb the MP5 fire from the guy in the corner. Headshot. Next target.
That’s how it went, blow for blow. Every single motion the enemy used against him, there was a reaction. It was a dance, deadly and beautiful, for those who were alive to remember it.
“Starfire! RPG, floor two!"
It was a yelled order, despite the lack of instruction. She obeyed, sending a hellfire of blasts skyward, which caved in the mezzanine. The dust billowed out, leaving Jason to use thermal vision. He murmured to Kori while he reloaded, then took aim with a grenade.
"There’s fifteen of them left. Two big clusters of six, and three solo acts. Can you see anyone?”
and all of this will never be the same again 