Venom's Story: Fire At Will

Venom's supplies ran out much too early-- some kind of tiny insect managed to spoil it all, and though he probably could have foraged, he didn't feel like living off of things which gave little to no actual nourishment-- and he found himself checking into a hotel at the edge of the so-called "civilized" part of Atu after only a month away. He'd hoped for more like three months, but he'd take what he could get. It had been an exciting trip, anyway, and he certainly hadn't managed to die, despite the various strange creatures, large and small, which had endeavored to kill him.

He'd gotten some extremely strange looks, though, coming out of the jungle that no one was supposed to come out of. He just grinned at everyone, with as much fang as he had, and no one asked any questions. It was, he thought, rather amusing. Though hopefully he wouldn't have to kill anyone in this particular town anytime soon; it was unlikely they'd forget him, and would recognize him again easily.

Teleporting back to Star City after a night's rest, he stepped into the recycled air and conversational buzz of one of his "safe" places: an official teleporting deck, with official guards. If he was lucky, his current bounty hunter had given him up for dead. Because he was careful, he assumed she hadn't, and kept his eyes moving behind their dark shades as he made his way to his apartment from there. He didn't expect an attack, not immediately after his return, not unless this particular hunter had much better resources than he expected. But there was no point in letting down his guard: he might at least see her, or someone else might have been set on him since his reappearance on Atu.

His apartment was clean-- he'd had it protected against teleportation and most forms of magic, but there was always the possibility that those protections had been broken-- and, as far as he could tell, hadn't even been disturbed during his absence. His contacts turned up no one sniffing around for information on him, and no one had sent threatening messages. By the time he emerged again that evening, after a soothing afternoon of getting settled in again, he was starting to hope that the woman who had last been set on him had given him up for dead.

Still, just to be safe, his first foray into the world was safely aboard Star City station rather than risking going down to Driolo. Everything was much better regulated on the station, security-wise. He almost never agreed to a job at home because of how easy it was to be spied on, seen, and then identified. No one on-station knew him as Venom, but as his normal, boring birth-name, Ross Zhalott.

"Venom! Hey, Venom!"

Surprised and not pleased at all to hear that name, he tried to keep walking and ignore the speaker.

"Venom, wait up!"

Hunching his shoulders and wings, Venom gave in and turned around. Nuranys wasn't someone who would be put off by being ignored. "I thought didn't like it up here," he grumbled.

"I don't," Nuranys admitted, looking around with the most nervous expression he'd ever seen on the previously fearless face. "It gives me the shivers, being so far above the ground, in the middle of all that nothingness out there...."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, what else?" He said that as if it were obvious. "I was waiting for you to get back from your vacation."

"And why, pray tell, would you be doing something like that?" Venom growled quietly, walking again and trying to look like he wasn't being shadowed by the dark young man. He turned down a less-traveled street, not liking the feeling of so many eyes around him when it was entirely possible one of them was aiming a pistol or a poisoned dart at the back of his head.

Nuranys was completely unfazed. "I told you about the Bipedra before you left, remember? I still think you ought to go."

"And I told you before I left, I don't do the dragon-bonding thing," Venom hissed back at him.

"This is different than dragon-bonding here, though," Nuranys pressed, trotting a little to keep up with Venom's longer strides. "The dragons are different. There's... there's something right about it. For you."

"Nuranys," Venom said firmly, turning on him with teeth bared. "I already told you, kid I--"

He stopped suddenly, his eyes focused behind the strange young priest, to a familiar face pressed to a high-accuracy rifle, half-hidden in the shadow of an archway. "Down!" he roared, shoving Nuranys out of the way and drawing his own gun just as the dark-skinned and immaculately-braided woman fired. The round punched into his shoulder, well above his heart, and literally exploded out through his back: it was a particularly damaging type of shot. Debilitating, deadly if it came anywhere near an important organ. An expensive bullet, but one meant for people who didn't have very good aim. Even so, if he had been anyone else, even poor aim like this would have killed him.

As it was, he just hissed, took one staggered step, then raised his gun again and returned fire with three sharp "pops": the gun still bore its habitual silencer. She ducked back before any of his own laser-bright bullets could reach her. He prided himself on his aim; his bullets had no compensating mechanism. There was a shrill chorus screams as the few passers-by who shared the metal street fled or hid.

"Behind me, Nuranys," he growled. The priest hauled himself to his feet, using Venom's coat as a brace, then quickly let go with a yip.

"Venom, you're hurt!"

"Not anymore. Get behind me!" He fired again, to keep the woman from taking another shot. "Better yet, get around a corner or in a doorway." One of these bullets could rip through him, and then leave flying shrapnel to damage the smaller man.

"Venom--"

He wasn't moving. Venom turned a snarl on him. "I said go!"

Nuranys moved, all right, but the wrong direction. He rammed into Venom, knocking the much heavier dragon anthro a whole pace aside, right as he heard another pop from the bounty hunter's silenced rifle. He hurried to turn, following the track of the bullet so he could take as little damage as possible, but he couldn't see anything coming towards him. Impossible-- a trained bounty hunter, even one with poor aim, miss such a large and off-guard target?

The smell of blood that wasn't his own made him stiffen and quiver suddenly. Nuranys staggered, face almost comically surprised, then fell. His throat was a bloody ruin, taking the shot meant for Venom's chest. The kid was dead before he even hit the ground, neck shattered by the explosive force of the bullet. Venom tore his gaze away before any compulsion could overcome the shock of seeing someone he knew die-- for him-- focusing instead on his attacker. A seed of rage was surprisingly easy to fuel into a blazing inferno of fury, and remarkably distracting.

"You want to shoot me?" he snarled at the bounty hunter, who had not fired again but who had also not lowered her weapon. "Go ahead! Shoot me! Other people have tried-- people better at it than little shit-faced kids like you-- and I'm still here. I've been shot more times than I can count. But go ahead. Maybe you'll be the magical slayer, the gods-fucking-blessed hunter to finally kill me!"

He ripped off his shades and spread his arms invitingly, even opened his wings to present a bigger target. There was a long breath-- but not too long; any minute the police would be here, and they both knew it-- and then the rifle lowered. There was no mistaking the hate on the hunter's face, but he could live with that. Lots of people hated him. He just wanted out of here before security showed up to find a pair of mercenaries and a dead priest. Or before he did more than dip the end of his tail in that rapidly spreading pool of blood.

The hunter spat on the floor-- reckless of her, leaving behind something that could be traced; already Nuranys's blood had obliterated any trace of Venom's-- and with an ironic little bow, Venom promptly vanished, leaving her to curse and hurry to escape the sound of security alarms rapidly approaching.