#flyingdragonfang

“лайно-” 

Andrei shrieked as the pipe he had been clinging to with his hands and feet fell away from the wall, and as he came to a landing he felt an explosion of blossoming pain in his shoulder. For a moment, he lay there in shock, before a few seconds passed and he forced himself onto his feet, shaking like a leaf. His eyes were wide, manic, and he stared down at his hands that were tinged slightly red with blood. He couldn’t tell how much of it was his, from the cuts and grazes he’d just opened up along his arm. Probably a good thing. 

He hadn’t even thought to steal a pair of shoes before climbing out the window, so now he was running as fast as he could, over filth, cigarette stubs and broken glass, clutching his shoulder as he ran down the back alley in nothing but a torn dress shirt and boxers. He had no idea where he was - the streets in this city were ugly, the buildings loomed above him like prison walls. An alien city in an alien country. All that he knew for certain was that he needed to get as much distance between him and that building as possible. 

It didn’t even matter if Dino had understood that he was acting in self-defense when he had been lying there with an old, perverted American bastard squeezing his throat so hard he thought his head would snap clean off; when he’d grabbed the bedside lamp and smacked him so hard it broke. When he’d kept hitting until the old man had stopped moving. It didn’t matter, because he had to try to escape, even if trying was futile, even if he would end up dead. Anything had more dignity than dying like that.

There was no time to cry, or to be afraid. To think about the fact he’d committed his first murder, or that he’d been moments from the most humiliating death imaginable. He ran aimlessly, stabbing pain in his shoulder and limbs with every footfall, until finally he turned a corner and ran smack into another body. 

He stumbled back, bracing for any attack that might come. It was a boy - an Asian boy, around his age. Dark hair, a rather hard expression. The kind of boy who looked like he might pull a knife on a challenger. 

-points to Kong- "Code name been there done that"

-points to Eiji- "code name currently doing that"

-points to bones- "It happened once in a dream"

-points to Cain- "If I had to pick a dude"

-points to Alex- "Eagle two"

“Then you suck and that’s why you’re practicing. Alright, now, keep your eyes on the target.”

"I smell like Chinese, weirdo." Sing said softly as he ran his hand through Eiji's hair.