"Goodbye Curly Head"

"Killer Queen"

He’s had far enough of her bullshit by now. Every single day, over and over again, quips, insults, words seeping with sarcasm and conviction of her own superiority. Andy had had to snap at some point, with all this exasperation and hatred growing within, seeping into each little nook and cranny of his brain. This wasn’t the W he came to know and somewhat accept. 

Long gone were the days of being affectionately called various anti-lateran slurs and thrown around the ground for fun. This one was vastly different, way less genuine and a pinch too annoying.

As his fist flew into her face once more, she managed to grasp his wrist and twist it.

“Now you’re done.”

Gone was her teasing smirk, making way for a grin so cold and detached. As her words seeped from behind her gritted teeth, blood flowing down her face, she twisted the boy’s arm and threw his frail, weak body to the side, quickly reversing their positions. She was the one in control, now, straddling the poor guy in between her legs and wrapping her tail around his torso, just in case he tried to get away. He could feel only a miniscule amount of regret trickling into his head before the fiend on top of him put all her might into a single, bone shattering jab sent into his face.

At that very moment Andy realized that honestly, he had no idea what else he was expecting to happen.

Everything went red so suddenly, so quickly. No one gave him a countdown, not even a heads up, not a light warning before the world turned crimson. His face felt unnaturally warm, covered with blood, profusely spurting from his mouth and nose. The girl on top kept cackling like a maniac and thrashing his poor, fragile face, with her legs holding his arms by his side, preventing him from defending himself in any way. She was a lot stronger than him, given she was a sarkaz, a goliath to be precise, a beast with strength as fierce as a pack of well fed hounds. Giggling away, yelling and wiping the blood squirting from her nose between punches, W had no intent of stopping, clearly enjoying the adrenaline rush. 

“Didn’t know you were THIS suicidal, Ricketts!”

Splat.

“How’s that?!”

Splurt.

“This? Any better? You got some blood on your nose, lemme help…!”

Crunch.

She tenderly broke his nose.

“And some on your shirt. Don’t wanna stain that pretty thing, do you?!”

Crack.

She affectionately cracked his ribs.

Groggy mercs all gathered around the two, woken by the grenade and her yelling. Watching, murmuring, observing, whispering, not even one bothered to step in and help the poor boy. When it became apparent that she had no intention of stopping until Andy drew his very last breath, Hoederer stepped in and grabbed W by the scruff, holding her high up into the air.

“HEY! Hey! Hedley, put me down! What, afraid your angel plaything’s gonna go limp?! Let me go, you…”

“I think he got the message already.”

The stoic man turned towards the crowd, still holding the fiend by the back of her collar.

“You, lot. Nothing to see here, just merc banter. Ready your iron, we test our luck at the battlefield today once more. Off you go.”