#||sunny threads

at ease: your muse rescues mine from imprisonment.

tw: blood, gore, mentions of kidnapping, possibly torture

Lyra was pissed. Or perhaps, pissed would be a milder word choice for the exact emotion that she was feeling, furious–being the better of the two words in her vocabulary that described the intensity of her own thoughts at the news that the other woman had been kidnapped by another gang. There was that absolute impulse to go in, guns blazing, and retrieve the other woman out from their grasps, but that was not how Lyra worked.

Not how–Hydrus worked. At least, in her perspective. It would be a simple mission for her, infiltrate and retrieve. A simple job–but one that she couldn’t wait to get her hands on to spill some blood….and maybe cut off some limbs.

But why was she so agitated? A mild streak of confusion flickered in Lyra’s mind for a faint moment, her movements swift but nimble as she climbed over the railing and dropped into the rafters, seating herself quietly as she watched the woman held captive in a bloody chair right beneath her.

Somehow, seeing Sunny stirred up certain emotions in her. Emotions that made no sense of why they should be there. They shouldn’t–because beyond Hydrus work, Sunny and her were both…strangers. But yet, there was that nagging sense that Lyra knew her a long time ago, and that seeing her hurt was one of the biggest things that the younger woman couldn’t tolerate.

“Oi. Dickheads.”A grin proliferates over Lyra’s face as she drops down lightly to her feet, after climbing partially down from the rafters. Her fingers tapped the man’s shoulder, and a flash of silver is all the male sees, before his neck gapes open, spilling a deep ruby red. “Ah…I used a bit too much strength. Now now, don’t worry–it won’t happen again.” She turned her eyes towards Sunny, eyes turning cold at the sight of what seemed like a broken wrist, and a swelling face from a rather brutal slap. “Would you boys be so kind to tell me..which of you touched her?” Lyra cooed softly and innocently, sliding over to one of the stockier males with a childish prance to her step. If only they hadn’t seen her slice open a man’s neck with just a knife and her own two hands–perhaps they would presume that Lyra was merely just a naive child that had stumbled into something that she shouldn’t have. 

Lyra’s eyes dropped lightly to one of the males, who’s hands were shaking slightly, the light tremors something that wasn’t out of fear. She flitted to his side, bending down to take a closer glance at his hand, trembling more at one side–an indication of it having it something hard enough to waver, a small but slightly twisted grin fluttering over her lips as she nodded. 

“Now, you were the one that slapped Sunny, didn’t you?” She tilted her head, eyes creasing as she gave him a rather happy smile. “I’m so glad I found you before the others ever did. They would have spared you for information, but I would have done the exact opposite.” The knife stabs into his jugular in his neck, blood spewing from the wound as the man clapped his fingers to the punctured wound, garbling his words as he stumbled backwards.

“Y-you–bitch!” The shot rings out twice before the other male on the opposite could say anything further, the bullet piercing his flesh and skewering into his kneecaps, and the Lyra tilts her head as she turned to glance indifferently at the male that lay yelping on the floor, tucking her gun back into her belt, a sigh bubbling from her lips as she stalked towards Sunny, the army knife deftly slicing through her bonds.

“Never knew that you needed rescuing.” Gone was the cold anger, Lyra’s dark but long lashed eyes flickering ever so slightly with a strange emotion as she sank to her knees slightly and sighed. “Are you alright?” A soft gentleness embroidered her tone sweetly as her hands lifted to cup Sunny’s swollen cheeks lightly. “I’m sorry, I should have come quicker.”