Chapter Text
Westopolis still showed scars of the invasion, years after the Black Arms arrival and subsequent expulsion. What used to be glistening white outskirts were charred, patchwork metal struts and hasty military engineering supporting the city in a way that had long since shifted away from utilitarian.
People around the world spoke about Westopolis in hushed tones. Pity, if they were socially aware enough to remember the travesty seven years earlier. Disgust, if they were snobs. Those lucky enough to not have to experience the horrors of an invasion, of a situation that forces hands to make choices that may not always be the best- or even what anyone wanted. Just what it took to survive.
The truth was that no one inside Westopolis walked away from the invasion intact. Everyone had been tested- their values, ideals; their sense of self boiled down to their base components. When the dust settled and recovery teams cleared away the rubble, it wasn't really a surprise that the city itself suffered the same fate; stripped until only what truly mattered remained.
What remained was…. broken, in a way.
But so much stronger for it.
Some like beautiful, perfect, and pretty
I see the good in the bad and the ugly
The chill air ruffling her skirt was the perfect counterbalance to the suns gleaming rays; soaking into fur and quills as the hedgehog weaved through rush hour traffic, uncaring of the disgruntled glares from stopped drivers around her.
The road crawled up and around complexes and business firms, and in the distance she could see even taller ones rise into a jungle of skyscrapers towering over the heart of the city. In there, the roads grew so thick it was like the city had levels; and in typical mobian fashion, they didnt play nice.
Twists and turns, loops and plummets. Human attempts at modernizing the city only led to a chaotic mishmash of transport tubes of flying cars crossing through and under more archaic motorways, all strung up in a net of wires and gondolas like it was a fish in a net. Subways clinging underneath bridges and gliding through holes in buildings hasitly repaired- and then repaired again. It was a mess that left outsiders bewildered; and even on a bad day lifelong citizens could get turned around.
It was perfect.
I need the volume one louder than ten
I put the pedal to the metal, needle into the red
The thrumming of the extreme gear under her feet filled her veins with an adrenaline that felt right. A calmer alternative to picked fights and brawls, heated arguments and broken friendships.
Just enough to keep her focused. Just enough to make her heart pump and skin tighten.
Just enough to get her there.
She shifted her stance and tilted forward, the air rushing through the board's engine with a whistle that grew into a growl; and she shot forward like a bullet, dirt billowing up behind her like a pressure hose. It dulled the edge, somewhat, but both she and her craft needed more. Weaving through traffic, splitting lanes, even at this speed, was childs play for her.
Buildings shot by in a blur, thin gaps of the blue sky peeking through the perfect distraction from honking horns and yells that shifted from angered to panicked as she approached a sharp bend, walls built up and curved thick with leftover G.U.N. barricades as a stop gap against one too many accidents from the average joe that thought they could make it at speed.
She crouched and leaned forward, hand reaching to pull at the tip of her board- up… up… There!
Forget inconsiderate motorcyclists-you don't get on an extreme gear to be pedestrian.
If the windows ain't shakin', makin' my heart race
If I can't feel it in my chest, I'm in the wrong damn place
Air roared out of her gear, hot and crisp, curling with the stench of asphalt and concrete as she rushed up the side of the wall- following its curve until it stopped, and she didn't.
She shot out above the traffic in a move that always sucked the air out of her lungs. She couldn't stop the wild smile pulling at her lips, fangs glinting in the sun as she laughed. She could see drivers hollering inside their cars, anger and annoyance, surprise and panic.
In that brief moment she could see a small mobian in the back seat of a car, directly underneath her, mouth opened in a startled gasp of wonder. She locked eyes with them, winked, and then suddenly the world was moving at a regular speed again.
In reality the motion was so fast her skirt didn't even have time to fall down, chains hardly able to fall before she was jerking into her next position; twisting in the air to push her board underneath her- although of course, underneath is relative.
Got a demon in my soul and a voice in my head
Sayin' go, go, go, I can sleep when I'm dead
She slammed into the hollowed out side of what part of her distantly recognized as a research facility that had suffered orbital bombardment, repaired in the new shape the laser carved out; board scraping against steel and glass as it struggled to adjust. She could see startled office workers turn towards the noise, already gone by the time they rushed to the windows, scratched and warped.
She leaned to the side, narrowly avoiding getting clipped by another intersection suspended in the sky, the rush of the wind vacuum pulling at her balance and making her skirt and jacket flap wildly. She leaned into it, letting it guide her as her board sucked in the air greedily, motors churning as it tried to kickstart itself.
There's a sonic revelation bringing me to my knees
And there's a man down below that needs my sympathy
She grimaced, shifting on her feet and standing straight, increasing the drag as ground level rushed steadily closer. Trained eyes watched every road, every wire, every tube, every gondola and car filled with passengers no doubt taking pictures of her little joyride to hell.
Each was a possible escape vector if the conditions were right, but the truth was, if she wanted out she could've twisted her board, caught an updraft five stories earlier, and skidded onto the freeway safe and sound.
She liked the thrill. The rush that came from entering an unknown and coming out on top. Of conquering a skill set so completely that she shined through. So in tune with her craft you couldn't look at it without being reminded of how she did it better. Being safe, taking the easy way out, it wasn't her style. It was so… so…
So blasé.
I got a ringin' in my ears gettin' ready to burst
The air ignited in the board with a scream.
And well- she would just hate to bore everyone watching.
Screamin' hallelujah motherfucker, take me to church
She pushed on the rear of her board, popping it out and sending it flying forward towards a gondola rail. Her feet shifted forward on second nature, twisting the board and cutting the engines just in time to grind along it backwards, legs bending in an oscillating rhythm as she bent back to grab the edge, looking over her shoulders at the city below her.
The rail shot her through the outskirts of Westopolis at sonic speed, the grind of her board surprisingly soft despite the sparks igniting where metal met. Every blink granted a new sight of the recovering city; roads weaving around wreckage turned memorials, malls built with equal measure G.U.N. and Black Arms scrap, universities built into repurposed hulls as she was taken further into the city. Closer to towering buildings and roads so thick they built a city on top of itself; sunlight dappling through like the skyscrapers were just trees.
I like it louder than the boom of a big bass drum
I need it harder than the sound of guitar grunge
She kickflipped off of the railing, plummeting down to the asphalt below. A press from her rear foot and air rushed out to cushion her fall, the exgear growling as she rocketed down the street; fast enough to rattle windows and tear at the metal panels to either side- sloped silver walls built to keep the pedestrians above away from motorists and their rush hour traffic.
It was the perfect half pipe, and she sidestepped some muscle car with a flick of her ankle, cutting it off to rush up to the edge. She shot out over the lip, kicking the board up to hold it in the air for a twirling trick over a startled couple, and brought it back down in time for a smooth landing on the guard rail.
I love to crank it up, make it thump, and lead on to the core
Head bangin' in the pit and throwin' my horns
She could hear sirens beginning to flare up and blare behind her, red and blue pulsing just ahead in one of the many tunnels that were characteristic of the bottom heart of the city.
She jumped off the rail at a curve, landing back on the road and rushing into the yawning mouth of the tunnel, fog lights and strips illuminating the grey expanse with oncoming headlights.
This tunnel was large. Large enough to hold all types of vehicles as it spiraled through one of the surrounding mountains and into the upper levels of the city. Trains and cars rumbled side by side while aerial traffic and gondolas passed over head. It would be the perfect place for one extreme gear to blend into traffic- if she wasn't making a game of it.
She shunted right, cutting across subway rails, up and around traffic, the trail of light behind her gear practically a beacon as she corkscrewed throuhg the curve of the tunnel, each pass a little faster, every bounce of her legs like she was dancing.
It had been a while since she danced on her board. Maybe she should do that, when this little chase had run its course.
And just like old school Sabbath, Zeppelin, and Lemmy
I need to drop it down low and make it heavy
She could just barely make out the sound of a megaphone ahead, distant through the thumping rush of blood filling her entire being- every drop energized and urging her forward. More. Harder. Faster.
The closer to the exit she got, the thinner traffic was- trickling down to the last car until it was just her. Her and the thrum of her gear, tearing at the asphalt towards the police blockade; red and blue flashing like an eyesore.
Just like everything else in Westopolis, it was big. Thick concrete and steel walls rising to seal her inside, a fleet of armored trucks, cars, and motorcycles resting in front, officers already halfway into their seats as she approached. It was all a mishmash of alien and mobian and human, the best of each of their worlds; chaotic and patchwork and unseemly to those who didn't know what to look for.
It was a sloppy response, but a fun one. She hardly warrented all this attention- but if they wanted to try and catch her…
I like it heavy, whoa
She crouched and leaned forward, tilting on the board to send her climbing up higher and higher, riding the wall like a surfer would a wave. She shot pass the fleet of vehicles with a simple glide, gloved hand skimming over the concrete to control her ascent as she heard the squeal of tires behind her.
None of them could even make it halfway up the wall.
She scoffed, flicking her board around to face the oncoming pursuit, cutting the engines to let momentum carry her backwards through the final stretch of the tube; leaning into the curve of the tunnel and into the sunlight flickering through the barricade's gap.
And then she was soaring through the sky.
I like it heavy, whoa
The sound of blades cut through the air. She twisted her feet, turning in the sky to see a police chopper. Close enough to make out the shocked expression of the pilots- and and a rolling camera pointed directly at her.
She held her fingers in a 'V' beside her head, flashing the camera a smile, full of teeth and mirth as she shot by, exgear guzzling the air as she rode it.
The air up here was frigid, stinging eyes squinting shut as she tried fruitlessly to sort through the buildings below. Familiar black and grey art deco skyscrapers, mixed with laser scorched walls and holes; all of it supported by the gunmetal steel of beams and plates.
A brilliant shimmer struck her, somehow brighter, warmer than the sun above her. So bright she couldn't stop the reflexive shutter of her eyes, fighting to pick out where it came from.
The glare died as quickly, soft gasp tearing from her throat as she turned towards the source; a radiant, gleaming casino built west of the cities center and the constricting walls of skyscrapers. Tall white walls, golden trim, the sun to hitting the perfectly shined glass dome just right to leave it dazzling like a jewel; all topped off with a glittery pink neon sign.
I ride the lightning, roll with the thunder
I'm goin' down, down, down with my sisters and brothers
She dove towards the building, slicing through the air like a bullet; twisting in the air at the last moment to land with a sparking slam on a gondola rail, letting momentum carry her up spiraling wires; peeking through the windows as knees bent on the board, fighting to maintain balance as straining eyes desperately searched.
Multiple floors passed by in the blink of an eye. Each glimpse through windows revealing gamblers and thrill seekers, playing the machines, drinking at bars- partying on the dance floor with the clumsy sway of someone getting far too drunk, far too early in the day. And at the top-
She felt her breath hitch.
A white bat in a pink satin robe, perfect makeup and manicure- all polish and shine; ready to be the baddest bitch in the grocery store.
A crimson and gunmetal robot with yellow highlights, large bulky arms and towering over his companion- both of them staring at a large television, sunlight streaming down on them.
If she strained her eyes she could see the camera on her through the television, and she couldn't hear the commentary from whatever news reporter was on her; but she could see the exact moment the bat put together the pieces. The white walls, the angle of the sun, the camera's panning shot of the club.
She grinded past the window just as the bat began to turn, lips pulled between a bitter grimace and a terrified, broken smile.
I fell in love with their darkest parts
Standin' on the side of the wild at heart
The blur and rush of wind slowed as her momentum ground to a stop, board balancing precariously on the wires edge. She threw herself to the side; launching herself down and away from the 'night'club, cutting through the air towards an overpass, and the choppy mix of new and old construction, segments with exposed rebar and asphalt, extra supporting braces to hold it altogether until the road and its loop de loop could be repaired after the invasion.
There were still the remains of red slime spreading from the overpass to other highways; the substance now hardened and green like cooper streetlamps.
Her board slammed on the dried slime, scrapping off the outermost layer of filth as she followed the grind through its own loop, and back down into the heart of the city.
The sound of heavy blades filled the air, following her down as she spiraled around skyscrapers and passed through layers of the upper city. Past plaza's and roads, over parks and tanks turned food trucks. The noise only got louder, more oppressive, thrumming chops disturbing the air and tearing at the wind under her board.
She grit her teeth and kept her feet firm on the board, hands in fists at her side as she follows the slime away from the building- peeling off into the open air and revealing the colossal frame of her pursuer.
Whatever space there was between buildings this deep into the cramped heart of the city- it seemed to take up, swallowing it with the kind of oppressive energy only military vehicles and weapons of war could. It was a wonder it was able to navigate the twist and turns of the streets at all- heavy and thick steel frame making the cockpit seem small, wings splitting off with pairs of chopper blades on each shoulder chaff pod, sitting at an angle. Each wing capped off with missiles, miniguns, and rocket launchers; with more dangling underneath its frame like talons on a bird of prey.
Emblazoned on the side was G.U.N.'s logo.
I plucked a feather off a crow, so I could fly
Since I was 13 years old, I've had my fist to the sky
She reacted without truly thinking, years of combat experience assessing the threat and muscles pulling away to dodge a premptive strike. Missiles screamed overhead as she crouched and held onto the edge of her board, pulling herself into a vertical spin as it rocketed over her.
The explosion was bright, full of fire and gas that stung her nostrils. Several more impacted the roads and skyscrapers, while others attempted detonation midair; trying and failing to knock her off her board and to the streets below. Windows shattered at the impact, but the steel and brick and ooze that consisted of Westopolis these days held firm- holding onto what debris didn't fall to the streets below.
Distantly she thought it a wonder that the military hadn't gotten tired of replacing vital infrastructure and paying for property damage after their last attempts to capture a hedgehog.
It didnt matter, another volley was already approaching, large steel shells whistling towards her and tips opening up to spill their payload. She twisted, tank top jerking as one teared past. She grabbed the edge of another's fins, fingertips twisting its trajectory and sending it careening into its partner. Several more missed their mark with a flip around another, driving her extreme gear down with a metallic, reverberating thud; before her gear forced her back up; engines already roaring back along the missiles length.
There were no impact this time- no detonation. Tracking munitions were the worst, and this deep into the city there wasn't enough room to dodge without putting up her surroundings as collateral. Her hips twisted, slowing down enough to sideswipe one, sending it into its partner igniting in a plume of orange and red that lit up her fur, already racing away.
The end of the missile was rapidly approaching, her own gear just barely able to overcome the incoming velocity as she raced towards the thrusters, nose angled up as missiles streamed past, twisting in the air to try and get a fix on her again. The screech of an impact rattled around in her ears, the rocket underneath lurching, metal warping and bending as it was forced up by the impact at its tip.
The impromptu ramp was the best opportunity she was going to get, and her legs lifted as she leapt over the thrusters inferno, launched in a somersault above rotating chopper blades that threatened to cut her to ribbons. Missiles impacted the underside of the behemoth, metal frame groaning as explosions pocketed its surface.
I like it louder than the boom of a big bass drum
I need it harder than the sound of guitar grunge
Her mind caught up with her just as her board landed on the edge of a billboard- making the split second decision to follow its curve deeper into the city. Her pursuer pulled away as she slingshot through a building, belly to her board to slip sideways through the cracks ; and despite the the adrenaline rushing through her muscles, the sudden ache and tension that comes with your body acting without telling it to- she couldnt help but smile.
A heartbeat later and she was through the building, falling down to land on smaller office buildings clustered around it. She quickly rolled the board under her feet, sending grit and pebbles flying as she slammed onto the concrete roof and hopped the guard rail, landing on a gridlocked highway below.
She started weaving through traffic, already expecting the thrumming by the time she felt it in her bones, blades chopping through the air as the behemoth found her again.
She could faintly hear a fog horn blaring demands as she swerved around an SUV honking at her, no doubt demanding she cease and desist, submit herself to their authority. Like they even had any left. Not here, not in this city.
I love to crank it up, make it thump, and lead on to the chord
Head bangin' in the pit and throwin' my horns
It didn't take long for the thump-thump-thump of igniting thrusters to fill the air, detonating warning shots making the highway sway as she raced along its length. Throught the thick, adrenaline clouded haze in her mind; she pieced together a rough estimate of where she was based off highway signs and old and new landmarks- construction she had only heard about before her departure.
She caught a streetlight with an outstretched hand, cornering around it and launching herself off the street- all missiles immediately swerving to their target like a cat on a laser pointer. Her board twisted in the air to face them, and in the cracks between the webbing of the roads above her she could see the behemoth peeking out from behind a building, chopper blades obscuring its bulk in a cloud of dust.
All she had to do was fall, and avoid getting blown to smithereens. It was familiar, easy- almost laughably so. She couldn't help the prideful, arrogant feeling bubbling up in her chest as she let the missiles approach, twisting in the air and launching off the walls of skyscrapers, billboards, even a train passing by at just the right moment. Each feint, each dodge, each acrobatic trick leading to more missed detonations harmless in the air; or the collision of a missile with its bethren, metal wreckage and fuel igniting in a brilliant blaze that warmed her to the bone and brought her back into a groove she had long worn into the bedrock.
It was like being challenged to a game you could never lose. Like your sibling pulling you to the couch to boot up that old fighting game you put down but never quite forgot- this time, this time, they would beat you, they crowed; so eager without anything to show for it.
They never could.
And just like old school Sabbath, Zeppelin, and Lemmy
I need to drop it down low and make it heavy
She impacted with an intersection at 328 miles an hour, the air cushion between her board and the street stretching thin, engines screaming as they tried to force more air underneath, to make that oddly squishy pillow of hot air underneath thicker. It couldn't be good for the engine, this constant abuse and slamming; she'd have to treat it to a tune up later.
She could think about it when this was all done. Already the thrum of the behemoth was overhead, swallowing the space between buildings while missiles locked on. And just down the street was green; tall leafy trees stretching over iron gates and concrete fences covered in moss, ferns peeking on either side of the entrance- wide wide open. Her board lurched forward, unsteady as the little engine inside righted itself, sucking in air before igniting with a woosh!
She shot down the street, windows rattling, bending and warping at her passage. Missiles screamed by her, licking at her heels and threatening to clip her at the knees if thats what it took. She accepted the challenge with grace- back flipping with a twirl over one to send it shooting blindly forward. She ducked down low and spun underneath another, sending it careening into a sibling, both detonating in a smaller, more precise strike.
The trees were just a block away now, and the behemoth was on her tail. Her ears flicked at the familiar sound of rotating miniguns, and she quickly ducked left, hopping onto a bike rack and shooting off to the side as a sickening Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrt! filled the air. Munitions sank into the road when they didn't ricochet into glass and shutters, bottom level vendor stalls and stores equal victims to the clumsy arm of the united federations finest.
I like it heavy, oh-whoa!
I like it heavy, oh-whoa!
She shot into the undergrowth, immediately cutting her speed to swerve around trees, waiting for the behemoths thrum to tear at her skirt and pulse through her fur. Dirt was already being buffeted around as she came to a clearing, inwardly satisfied to see her gut lead her back to the best spot to take this beast down.
G.U.N. HQ, Westopolis.
I like it, I like it, I like it heavy
I like it, I like it, I like it heavy
Bright searchlights ignited above her, searching through foliage as she swerved through the undergrowth. Shadows sharpened, dark and deep behind trunks and barks in the way that only happened when exposed to bright, direct light sources. It mixed with the debris to create the perfect cover to swerve in and out of as the lights scoured the park in front of the military base. Wherever the searchlights roamed, she was just on the other side, the hum and light of her own gear swallowed by the oppressive chopper and the cloud of dirt it kicked into the air this low to the ground.
She circled around lazily, twisting around trees with every pass of a searchlight, a constant game of ducking in and out of sight. Every pass dragged a little longer, every approach brought her a little closer, waiting for the pattern to break.
I like it, I like it, I like it heavy
I like it, I like it, I like it heavy
The lights passed just behind her, and her stance shifted imperceptibly, her gear now roaring towards the behemoth circling above a clearing. Breaking past the tree line would expose her, but by that point it would be too late. She lifted her legs, board leaping through the air like a predator to slam into the side of the missile pods hanging like talons below.
Her ribs protested the harsh treatement and she grit her teeth through the pain, quickly grabbing hold of the large weapon. This close to the chopper she could hear alarms blaring from inside. Warnings of hull instability, damage; wires and sensors confused as she dug her claws in and tore the armaments off the underside.
Some like beautiful, perfect and pretty
I see the good in the bad and the ugly
Without the connection to the chopper, she fell to the dirt floor; board groaning under the sudden addition of a multi ton weapon held at its passengers hip with both hands. But it moved fast, energy trail whistling away as she started circling the craft. Hijacking the exposed wiring was trivial, a few crossed wires and missiles were pouring out, mixing with a hail of gatling fire peppering the side of the craft.
I like it heavy, oh-whoa!
I like it heavy, oh-whoa!
The behemoth returned fire, and she had to get clever on her feet with the added weight of her new toy; balancing on the edge of her board to send it spinning around missiles. She couldnt easily dodge and jump like this, as fast as she was, the only real option was to end this fight quickly.
She leaned heavily on the side of her board, weapon digging into the ground to help her quickly pivot, thrusters reversing as she faced the missiles.
I like it, I like it, I like it heavy
Machine gun fire filled the clearing as she picked off the missiles one by one, explosions warming the air and brushing across her fur. She had fully circled the behemoth once they were all neutralized, the end of the barrel sizzling in her grip.
I like it, I like it, I like it heavy
She angled the weapon up, fingers deftly reaching inside the torn attachment to fiddle with the wires; rewarded with the thwoomp thwoomp thwoomp of missiles streaming out and slamming into the nose of the chopper. A concentrated assault with the rotating barrels of the minigun, screaming in the air.
Each strike ate away at the armor, metal panels bending and warping- before giving in entirely. Shrapnel and explosions tore at the inner hull and frame of the behemoth, eating at it from the inside out.
I like it, I like it, I like it heavy
Smoke billowed out of the engines , chopper blades stalling in the air one by one as she kept firing- never once letting up until the chopper was tiling in the air, and crashing into the earth.
The momentum of the steel mountain tore at the top soil, dirt uplifted and rolled over as it screeched to a halt just in front of the G.U.N. military base- now on high alert as one of its weapons came to a smoldering heap at its entrance.
I like it, I like it, I like it heavy
She had already dropped the weapon the moment the aircraft had started falling, cirling the edge of the clearing to watch it come to a stop, trees leaning awkwardly where it lay against them on the road that cut through the park. She kicked her board up and over the side, riding the behemoth's frame to the top of its wreckage , and gently swerving through smoke and rubble down the other side.
She didnt pay attention to the weapons pointed at her as she entered the base, coming to a stop and kicking her board up into her arms as she looked around the military installation. Rebuilt, like so much of Westopolis was these days- but irrelevant.
The entrance lights flickered on and she tensed, tucking the board under one arm and shifting on her feet. The doors opened slightly, a swarm of soldiers pouring out, rifles aimed at her like so long ago; but in the middle of them all- her throat choked
Take me home tonight, I'd do anything with you
Buy a bottle o' whiskey, we'll get matching tattoos
Black and red metal, a yellow head and piercing red eyes. Fists with large, sharp talons that could shift into any number of weaponry on command. It was shorter than the humans, coming up to their shoulders, but it towered over her. And yet, she wasn't afraid. Couldn't be afraid.
He stomped towards her slowly, and her eyes drifted to a black pauldron. Previously blank- now adorned with a spiked blood red sigil, ripped from the invaders and worn proudly. She couldn't help the ache in her throat, or the way her breath just barely hitched.
Tell me that you love me, oh, let me drive your car
We can sit 'til mornin' light just countin' every star
At the robots side, a tall honduran bat. Snow white fur, teal eyeshadow, eyes that should be half lidded and teasing now crinkled at the edges- lower lip trembling as words fought their way up her throat.
Her heels clacked against the concrete floor, melding seamlessly into white boots that came to a stop just below her knees. The height made her taller than most- but still shorter than her robotic companion. But that's okay, it was all part of her strategy. A little demureness, a little flattery, a flash of her cleavage through her heart shaped breastplate- and those powder white gloves will have already picked you clean.
Emblazoned on her chest, just underneath her collarbone, was the same sigil
Her wings twitched as the duo came to a stop. Rouge the Bat and Omega E-123. Two parts of Team Dark- the best team the city had ever seen.
'Cause if there's a Hell, I'll meet you there
And if there's a Heaven, they're serving beer
And if you're an angel, then I must be high
It was so easy, to dismiss it all before hand. To believe that G.U.N.'s best wouldn't be there when she passed through Westopolis again. Even easier to think she could face them, that she wouldn't freeze like a deer in the headlights.
Oh, if there's a church, it's rock 'n' roll
If there's a devil, I sold my soul
And it's alright, whatever we do tonight
In the end, Rouge made the first move. She always did. Her lips moved, muttering something to her self before crossing the distance between them in short, purposeful strides. And just when it looked like neither of them would break their composure, the bat's expression crumpled- and she launched herself, arms wrapping tight around the black hedgehog and holding her close.
Soft, Secure, Safe.
'Cause if there's a God, dammit, she won't mind
Shadow clicked the pause button on her mp3, the barest hint of a tremble in her hands as she took out her earbuds. The bustling sounds of Westopolis was clear in her ears for the first time in three years.
Her arms slowly returned the embrace, soothing the spot between wings as she pressed them closer together. She didnt realize how much she missed the weight of the bat.
"Hey Rouge."
If there's a God, baby, she won't mind