#scatterose

If Qrow took his time answering, it was only because his scroll got stuck in his pocket and when he got it out, Qrow nearly dropped it. He’d fully intended for Summer to find those texts when she woke up in the morning, but they were here now.

"Just wondering, have you ever thought about chains? I'm just thinking, with the white cape and all..."

Ambrosius, of all people, should probably not be offering fashion advice. But that's him; 'probably shouldn't' is just a free pass to fuck around and find out.

Raven froze with one foot out the window, the chilly night breeze ruffling her hair. For a moment, it was the only movement in the room, and then she sighed and pulled her foot back inside. 

“I’m coming back,” she said sharply. She glanced at Summer out of the corner of her eye, and Raven had wanted to escape alone, to have enough space to breath without stares and expectations bearing down on her, but Summer’s eyes gleamed like starlight in the darkness, pools of light and - 

“You can come with me. I’m just climbing up to the roof.” 

“You’ll have to forgive me - all I have to give you is paperwork.” He leaned back in his chair and plopped a heavy boot on top of his pile of paperwork - reports and invoices and all the shit he’d never wanted to deal with - crossing his legs at the ankle. 

@scatterose​ clicked the little ❤ for a starter!

“Shit-- did I forget to cancel that again?“

He plucked the red bow from her shoulder and made a show of examining it. With a dastardly smirk, he stuck it to her forehead.

@scatterose​ asked: "come here!"

Send “come here!” to give my muse a hug despite their protests. // accepting !!

Air is forcefully exhaled as Summer practically launches into the hug, briefly winding her teammate. It takes a moment for Raven to react properly, getting her footing back in order to keep the girl from sending them both to the ground, and she has the fleeting thought that Summer should really find a way to turn that into a proper attack.

"...okay, Rose, time to let go." And then, a beat later. "Summer."

---

Wanda counted every single kill, and after five years in Salem’s service, her bracers were running out of room for notches. They were also feeling heavier by the day.

She moved with deadly precision, weaving in and out of the hapless enforcer’s that had moved to arrest her. Her job was meant to have been simple. Kill the smugglers who had reneged on their deal with one of Salem’s people, and by extension, Salem herself. Somewhere along the line, local law enforcement had seen a need to protect the ‘upstanding’ citizens. 

The empty well inside of her howled for blood as Nicuhantë bit through the armor of one. 

She’d warned them. She had. Hazel would be proud.

Frost swirled around her as she dropped the temperature, armour shattering with a sharp strike from the pommel of her weapon. As ever, she was precise, ruthless, turning off everything that wasn’t cold determination. 

Movement flashed at her side and she brought her sword around in a strike. Nicuhantë bit through the mask, splitting the visor, but not wounding them. She took a step, ready to end it as their grey aura crackled, but as she brought her bracer up to finish it with a dust shot, his eyes met hers. 

The emptiness inside of her howled, but her hand began to shake. 

“G-Gray?”

His eyes were just like his, his jaw, his hair. For a moment all she could remember was standing in the snow in Argus, and the way he looked back at her before the traitors had killed him for fighting back. 

“Aaugh!” Pain exploded in her back. Her muscles contracted, arching her back, and her knees buckled with the effort to hold herself up. With a sick, wet sound, whoever was behind her withdrew the blade. 

Wanda gasped, almost dropping her weapon. She turned, entirely on instinct as her blood dripped down onto icy pavement. With a few sharp strikes, she slammed the Enforcer’s head against the wall. Instead of delivering a killing blow, she let go, backing away as she tried not to sag on her left leg. 

“Damn it,” she panted, reaching around to press her hand against the wound, trying to think of what the knife might have found, what organs, what trouble she was in - 

The Enforcer she’d mistaken for Gray moved between her and the other with the bloody knife. For a moment, she thought about finishing the job. One look in his eyes was enough, as cold tears welled up in her eyes and her vision swam with them, liquid freezing on her lashes. 

She fired a single shot at the ground, sending a wave of ice dust under their feet, tripping them up, before turning down the dark alley. If she didn’t get a lid on this, there’d be no trouble following her trail of blood.