lifebetweenthedeath:

It was easy for the woman to forget how miraculous her gifts were, that not all people were allotted the same abilities. She forgot Jason wasn’t like her most — though he had no clear meta-human abilities, he was so gifted. He fought with such grace, such precision, it only seemed right to think they were a product of more than just training.
She never really saw his orders as intrusions to what she was doing, nor did she feel as though Jason was above her for telling her what to do. Kori trusted his judgement — relied on it, even. To say that she didn’t value it, wouldn’t listen because she thought taking suggestions was beneath her, was ridiculous. That wasn’t to say she didn’t think for herself but, in their current situation, it definitely kept her from hesitating.
As the dust began to settle, Kori’s eyes raised to the ceiling. She couldn’t see much from their current angle but, seeing as she was essentially a walking light when suited up, the princess figured she’d be able to map things out once she was at eye level.
“Visibility isn’t great, but I’ll make do. Ladies first, yes?” 
Starfire didn’t wait for an answer, simply angled her palms toward the ground and cast a blast toward it, sending her vaulting through the air. As she landed on the mezzanine, a couple of thugs started toward her. With no secondary thought, she blasted two of them into nonexistence, leaving the third to continue toward her. Her elbow connected with his collarbone, forcing him to his knees before she wrapped her palm around his neck, heat burning through his skin.

He didn’t have to watch her to know what was happening. Twin beams of pink energy circled her, destroying anything in their way. Setting that aside, he turned his attention back to  the half dozen men in front of him. They were cautious, wary of the fate that had fallen their cohorts. They had seen Jason with a shotgun and a knife; this time, he pulled out his P30L. Raising the pistol, he dropped two men at fifteen feet, then pivoted to stop a third from flanking. That left three, two of whom were armed. One charged, and Jason lunged forward. A kick to the knee, then a single bullet in his temple. Spin, aim, trigger. Right between the eyes. The last man was panicking, holding an AK of some sort. He managed to get off seven shots before Jason broke his femur.

He turned to look for Starfire, hoping she’d eliminated the last of the thugs. Jason was tired, and there was much more to do before he could go home. Dismantling the firearms that had been dropped, collecting the ammunition, and removing the cash they left behind was going to be a chore. He didn’t like to leave such things behind; the cash, he’d dump into a charity box on his way home. The guns would be left where they fell, albeit useless. Jason was fond of removing the firing pins, but stripping the receivers off worked too. Anything to keep them from being useful later on. The ammunition was just a quirk he’d picked up with the League. Never knew when you’d need more shots.

Roy echoed over his comm. “Hey, tough guy. There’s a semitruck pulling up. Looks like reinforcements. The trailer is full.” “Great. Star? You ready for round two?”
Jason grabbed a grenade from a dead Triad member, and pulled the pin. 
“I sure as fuck am.”

lifebetweenthedeath:

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?”

lifebetweenthedeath:

Dinlo. Idiot.

Of course Roy would go out on his own and get himself shot. Of course. The fact that Kori had thought, even for a moment, that Roy would actually spend an evening in — benched, really — was ridiculous. He’d go out on patrol in a full-body cast just to spite the world.

When she’d gotten his call, annoyingly nonchalant as he informed her that he might’ve gone out on patrol by himself despite orders against it and that maybe he’d gotten a bullet to the side in the process, Kori was so miffed she very well may have shot him herself, if she had the opportunity. Instead, she headed to his location and cauterized his wound (it was a shallow graze, luckily enough, but if it had actually pierced his skin, it could have hit his kidney) before sending the redhead on his way.

She’d deal with him later.

“Its just a flesh wound,” the princess quoted seamlessly, arms crossed over her chest as she looked out over the street from her vantage point.

“That’s my girl,“ the comm buzzed in her ear, and Kori rolled her eyes. She could practically hear the stupid smile on his face, which only caused an exasperated sigh to pass her lips. How she’d managed to fall in love with such an idiot, she’d never know.

Kori continued with a dismissive, “He’ll live.” Her brows furrowed at the mention of Armani’s, the sorry excuse for pizza that Roy constantly insisted on ordering at least once a week. She’d avoid eating it if she could, solely on the basis that she thought the cardboard box it came in had more nutritional value; that, and she had learned to love herself long ago. People who loved themselves didn’t buy five dollar pizza.

The princess heard her best friend’s footsteps behind her, though she didn’t turn to look at him until he was at her side. She cocked her head to the side slightly at his words, a gust of wind catching her bright red hair and causing it to flicker like flames behind her.

“It’s only not gonna be pretty ‘cause I’m not there,” Roy chimed in over the comm. Kori gave Jason a look, one that clearly read, ‘please wire him out.’ “Scratch that. Kor brings enough pretty for all of us. Right, babe?” Her expression, which hadn’t been serious in nature at first, contorted.

“Shut up and eat your cardboard cheese,” Kori shot back, dropping her hands to her sides as she stepped closer to the building’s edge. She looked over her shoulder at Jason and nodded once before dropping off the side of the building. Starfire landed, crouched on the pavement. The vigilante straightened, glancing around quickly before starting in the direction of the warehouse.

He dutifully ignored Kori’s jabs, attempting to remain neutral. When Roy started antagonizing her, however, he had to intervene. 
“Harper. Shut the fuck up. You got shot, Pay the price.” He rolled his eyes, having retracted his lenses around Kori. “Henri. Punch him in the bullet wound.”
The resulting yelp was all the two Outlaws needed.
A high giggle sounded over the line; Dick laughing.
Jason snorted.

“Alright, Starfire. Ignore the idiots. We’ve got death to deal out.”

A short discussion followed, arguing the logistics  of a full fledged insertion to the middle of a volatile Mob war.
“Look, all I’m saying is-”
“Jay, you can’t possibly expect to land in the middle and survive-”
“Dude, no, there’s no WAY you can pull that off, Jay-”

“Shut. Up.”
He was breathing heavy, looking at Kori with the same manic calm that defined his entire existence.
“Comms off.”

He pulled out his shotgun, racking in the explosive rounds. With a chuckle, he nodded at Kori.
“Weapons hot, Star. Let’s burn them all.”
Less than a second later, he was on the ground, carving his way through the mass of gangsters.

Navigating the city was tough any day, but the added traffic from the Cobble Hill fire made it worse. After a frustrating ten minutes stuck in Columbia Point, Jason abandoned the low profile tactic. Gunning his bike, he shot past the cops, tossing an EMP at the squad car in front. The lights shut off immediately, and no one followed him.

Weaving in and out of the still packed street, Jason got to South Channel Island soon after, calling Kori on the Hood as he slowed down on the Roxbury Bridge. Henri had said the turf war was on Ryders and Ash, and Jason parked his bike less than a block away.

Twin .45’s, check. Garrote wire, check. Sword, check. Bandolier, ammo belt, sawed off, check, check, check. Switching on the air lock for the Hood, he called Kori on the comms. “I’m here. Gimme the skinny on Harp while I make my way to you.”

It didn’t really matter what had happened to Harper; he was a SEAL, and a warrior too. More than likely, he’d taken a glancing hit that Henri or Kori had worried enough about to force him to stay. Sure enough, his voice came over the comm, clear as a bell.

“Hey fuck you, Jaybird. I’m here watching you have all the fun. Dick says hi. There’s Armani’s pizza waiting for when y’all get back.”

Jason snorted. Armani’s was universally terrible, but it was five bucks for a whole pie. Harper couldn’t stay away. He was jogging now, finding the rooftop that Kori’s locator placed her at. A grapple took him to the top, some old highrise that never got completed. A few squatters, innocent bystanders. His boots crunched on the gravel as he approached her.

“Greeks and the Triads, huh? This is not gonna be pretty." Jason laughed, a dark chuckle. 

"Let’s send ‘em all to hell, Starfire.”