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Glassy Sky

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Thick icy clouds cover Musutafu like a blanket. The murky overcast cracks with streaks of lightning, jagged lines slicing through the vapor like a knife digging into soft flesh. A grey fog begins to drift overhead, the broken shape of it forming a glassy sky.

It's late, not even a single car splashes through the flooded streets. Periodically, streetlights gleam overhead, shadows dark & crisp in the flickering glow. The sound of emptiness hums with the dying bulbs, only to be disrupted by a loud gregarious boom of thunder.

At last, the first of many water droplets begin to descend from above. It doesn't trickle out like a shower faucet; it's more like the clouds could no longer hold the weight. The rain has become a living fabric, something one can reach their hand through. It's almost like being in a car with the window open, an outstretched arm surfing through the fast moving air.

Cold beads of water land on a girl's pale skin, running down her thin frame. She skids across the slippery path of a flooded sidewalk, her posture weakened by the weight of her soaking clothes.

Arms wrapped around herself, the drenched cardigan doing a poor job of keeping her warm now that it's wet, she tries to duck under a shop's awning to get someplace dryer. The fierce sound of heavy rainfall pounding on the sheet above her head is louder than the occasional boom of thunder. She shudders when a chilly breeze nearly sweeps her off of her feet. It's not an ideal place to wait the storm out, but it's the best she's got.

The girl then catches sight of herself in the shop's window reflection. Messy blonde buns had become slightly frizzled and damp, a wonder how the pins held, but nonetheless disappointing to the girl. Letting out a pouty huff over her disheveled appearance, she lets herself untense a little. There's nothing better for her to occupy the time with than fixing the mess.

However, there's a person watching her that isn't as concerned about the state of her hair. Slitted pupils narrow in on the damp clothing, admiring how it clings to her luxurious body. An elongated tongue runs along pointed teeth, glossing over scaly lips. Like an apex predator, the person begins to slowly creep towards her, using the dark atmosphere as a camouflage of sorts.

She can't even release a startled gasp before a heavy hand is clamped down over her mouth. The person assaulting her forcefully pulls the petite girl backwards, essentially dragging her like a luggage full of dead weight. Before the girl can recuperate or struggle against the hold, the attacker pins her against the rough brick of a wall.

Her head collides with the concrete, resounding with a sickening crack of her skull. Whatever concussion that may have caused makes her vision blur with occasional blotches of random color. The disoriented girl tries to wriggle free from the death grip she's in, but only makes the arrival of a headache transform into an ear ringing migraine.

Through the splotches of hazy vision, the blonde takes in the features of her assaulter. A large man with what must be a mutation quirk stands at over eight feet tall. The scaley pattern of an alligator's hide makes up their skin, a dark shade of malachite glistening in the rain. A thick leather jacket and jeans make it hard to distinct the guy's age; he could be a biker or edgy teenager.

In the face of fight or flight, the girl chooses to fight. Underneath the blonde's skirt, she keeps a knife strapped just above her thigh. Carefully unsheathing it as not to draw attention to her movements, she pretends to whimper under the alligator hybrid's strong grip. Then, she lashes out with the blade, aiming for their throat.

A shard of steel clatters across the pavement. The knife had split in two. The man's alligator hide is too thick to slice into. The blonde's eyes go wide as she realizes there's nothing she can do now. Her opponent is too strong to break free from, let alone the disorientation from hitting her head is making it hard to do much of anything in defense, and she doubts her fists or nails will be enough to harm considering a knife didn't work.

The alligator has a perturbed face, glancing between the broken weapon and the girl a few times. He then begins to chuckle, mostly in relief that the surprise attack didn't work. "You sure are naughty..", the rank breath makes the blonde's eyes water as if it was the smell of onions. A clawed finger begins to lace itself down the cardigan on her torso, popping buttons as it runs along. "I can be naughty too..", the alligator hisses in her ear as he goes to slice through another layer of clothing. The man licks his chops, the damp shirt shows an outline of the girl's black bra underneath, it's all that's left to undo for him to be filled with immense pleasure.

The blonde squirms a little, hoping to slip free, but she stops instantly when sharp talons dig into her arm. Warm liquid mixes with the cold, rain washing away blood, but all the same sloshing across her skin. It's a searing pain, a wound that will no doubt leave a scar.

The man presses his chest against her own, condensing her breasts in a painful way. A sharp inhale from the alligator makes her rear back in reflex. Sharp teeth are bared, she's assuming the scent of blood must have triggered something in his instincts.

"That's quite the perfume, little lady.", the gator laughs at his own joke. The elongated tongue that keeps slipping free then laps up the dribbling blood. A moan elicits from the man, he presses himself against the girl a little harder. "I can barely contain myself.. Let's just get on with it..", his predatory gaze then flicks to her skirt.

The girl lets out a muffled cry, her futile struggles now increasing tenfold as she realizes what the man is about to do. The tears brimming her eyes begin to spill, streaking down her cheeks. She's powerless to stop him as a scaly hand reaches for the skirt.

She contemplates closing her eyes, hoping that'll ease the approaching pain somewhat. However, movement from behind the gator catches her sight. Then, there's nothing but the hot sting of red splattering across her face. Specks of something warm cover her body now, as if a water balloon filled with paint just collided with her.

It's then that the girl notices the sharp object protruding from her assaulter's chest. Even though her knife had failed, something else succeed in piercing the gator's tough hide. The man coughs, gagging on some of his own blood. Tilting his head down to stare at the wound, he lets out a bloodcurdling scream, as if he only now realized he got fatally stabbed.

The girl stares at the foreign object that tore through the man's unnatural flesh. It looks like a streak of blood frozen solid, but with a mind of its own. The tentacle whips around like a tail, showing no muscle or bone tissue to restrict its movement. It moves with a flexibility that's transparent to the flow of water, but remains firm and steady.

Another agonized cry for help escapes the man as he gets thrusted backwards, the tentacle protruding from his chest carrying him into the sky. Then, the gator hybrid is brought back down with immense force. The forceful effort slams the man into the street, splitting cracks into the cement and leaving behind another splatter of blood. However, the onslaught doesn't stop there, the tentacle hoists the gator back up for another round of being thrashed about.

Watching the horrific display, the girl begins to quiver and falls to her knees. The man continues making a sickening wailing noise that's too distorted from gargling blood to reach beyond the block. The tentacle shows no mercy, it just keeps slashing up & down with the man as a kabob. The crater left in the road is soon filled with enough blood to make up a hot tub.

If the man has a mutation quirk that gives him similar traits of an alligator, then he should be able to hold his breath underwater. At least, that's what one would think. When the man is forced back into the crater, he's pinned there this time. The blood stops just above the nape of his neck, cutting off any oxygen he may need. Bubbles begin popping at the surface, the weakened body of somebody that had been beaten trying to rear itself away.

When the corpse stops resisting, three more tentacles rain down from above like they're part of the storm. The sound of flesh being torn apart somehow overlaps a clap of thunder. In the flash of light from the sky, like an angel, or perhaps a demon in this case, the owner of the tentacles drops down with grace.

The strange appendages retreat into the person they belong to as he staggers over to the unmoving body. Dropping to his own knees, he bends down and sinks his teeth into the gator's flesh. Even with a transmutation quality, the person is still a human. Whether it counts as cannibalism or not, the gruesome tearing of teeth through meat would forever be ingrained anybody's mind that watches it.

What's even stranger, is that the person who rescued the girl looks no older than fifteen. Despite the slim figure, it's apparent that there should be some muscle under the articles of a baggy hoodie & sweatpants. The clothes are as dark as the boy's unkempt hair, a heavy set of locks cover his left eye and leave the strange looking right one to peer out. A red iris is shrunken down to the fraction of the pupil, surrounded by a black sclera. Webbed veins crack the void, even reaching beyond the eye and stretching across the skin that borders it.

Ripping another mouthful of flesh from the corpse, the boy swallows it without bothering to chew. Like a condiment, gore surrounds his lips as if the sauce got spilt by a messy eater.

It was just so enthralling to watch that the girl let out a piqued pant. However, the boy's ear twitched as soon as he heard it underneath the downpour of rain. Whipping his head up to spot the blonde that's gazing at him, he freezes like a deer in headlights.

The two stare at one another for what feels like a solid ten minutes. Both of them are so lowly crouched that they could look into eachother's eyes if they wanted, but the boy looks more dazed than focused.

Perhaps it's because the blonde girl is so fixated on him with her cheshire eyes. A toothy grin and heavy blush covers her face, the freezing rain doing nothing to fade it.

"Hi! I'm Himiko Toga!", she frantically waves with both her hands like she's trying to flag down a taxi or grab a celebrity's attention. The blonde then cranes her neck forward, as if she's trying to get a better look at the boy in front of her. "What's YOUR name?!", she brings her arms to her chest in anticipation of the answer.

The boy is still looking at her with an appalled expression. Most people would have ran off screaming by now. Yet, this girl is still here, she even watched him feast on the guy's corpse. Now she's introducing herself and asking his name. Maybe that concussion is more severe than either of them could diagnose.

Albeit reluctantly, the boy returns her greeting, "A- Akatani.. Akatani M- Mikumo."

The giddy grin on Toga's face broadens somewhat, she's pleased with her rescuer's answer.

The boy can't help but smile in response, even if it's just a small one that nobody can see through the thick coat of falling rain.