Template:Featured Articles/23-2024
 Madin frowned, pulling energy into a light blade roughly the same size as the knife. "The trick here is that if it's not got enough juice, it just dissolves before it hits. Too much - and it's like plasma but not, right? Too much and things explode or catch on fire. I think it's about right." They lifted their hand, adopting the same pose as before and threw. There was no weight to the blade, only energy. The target flared and and smoked slightly as it hit. "I didn't say it as a bad thing," Shatterstar said, throwing one of his own knives, landing in the smoke above the energy blade. "You're so well controlled with your powers. It's impressive." Madin shifted awkwardly. "Thanks..." They dropped to a crouch for a moment. "Bro. Of course they are. I was a mercenary fighter providing money to a terrorist organisation. They were pretty invested in me having control over them." "I forget that about you sometimes," Shatterstar said. "I'll endeavor not to forget in the future," he added, feeling as though he had slighted Madin by not remembering just how dangerous they were. "Sorry." Madin flushed. "I didn't mean it like that. I had to learn that control. You get that, right? I didn't have a choice once I joined them and I'm not proud of why I got the control, if you follow? We weren't the good guys." "I follow," Shatterstar nodded, "But I don't see why you can't be proud of the control even if you aren't proud of the method." He threw another knife without a spin and frowned when the aim was off. "I'm not always proud of how I use them and especially of my former use of hand-to-hand, but I'm still proud of my skills. And control of power is more difficult- at least for me." Sometimes, the distance between eighteen and 24 stretched forever to Madin, with the teens at the mansion looking and feeling so much younger than they'd ever remembered being. Other times, it was invisible and they had to remind themself not to have a deep and meaningful with someone his age. "You're pretty smart." They thought about days spent in the field, strolling through a settlement that was sprung up around a mining camp, laughing because they were the fucking shit and in charge over there as long as nothing happened to the ore and the days spent driving through the bush to, or from a job in the arse end of nowhere. And then, putting their training to use at times, when security and escort work had become active battles. Shatterstar nodded at the compliment and let Madin get lost in their thoughts, not wanting to interrupt the silence. Shatterstar was comfortable in silences as long as there was action- the thunk of knives into the target. He continued this way until he had to retrieve his. "I think yours have a natural curve," he said, having been able to observe the lingering plasma up close. “In the blade or my throw?" Madin asked, curious. "Both. A curve to your throw and the blade looks like a trailing point- which makes sense. It's a common knife tip." "Is that bad? Should I try something different? I was never a gear nerd as long as I could hit the target." Madin grinned. "Mostly I don't even need to do that. A lot of things explode, or catch fire, or like, melt when you hit them with plasma, so I just need to hit nearby." "I don't think it's bad," Shatterstar said with a shrug. "I just thought it was interesting." Madin flushed. "Sorry. My bad." "Your bad for what?" Shatterstar asked and then looked at the targets again. "Do you want to keep throwing knives?" "Sorry, for -- never mind." Madin shook their head. There was no point explaining. "Sure, but I don't have a lot more plasma knives in me." Shatterstar offered Madin one of his. "You can try one of these." |
