Location: ~Whitedail, Hallway side, the roofs~
The streets are a mess. The hero has been trying to keep it clean in his free time, but it looks like the villain knows his next move everytime. He can never get a break can he?
A few yells caught his attention while he tried picking up the rubble.
"Ahghh-!!"
It sounded like a young girl yelling in distress. He went on high alert, using the wind for leverage as it heightened, lifting him onto the closest building he could reach. When he was at the very top, he tried to locate where the scream had come from. It sounded again.
*Left bottom*, Oxzy said in his head. He jumped down from the building onto another, letting the drift in the air catch his fall and change its direction. He did the same with every jump, making sure not to hurt himself.
When he got close enough, the screams suddenly became muffled. Oxzy grew even more riled up, and moving from the corner, he spotted a small teenage girl trying to pry herself from two older men.
"Ahh-muhgg-!"
Their hands covered her mouth, muffling any sound that tried to surface.
Oxzy didn't have to think twice before blasting the older men away. The blast ended up hitting the half-naked man as well, throwing both of them back onto the hard concrete floor. The girl's legs were shaking, but that didn't stop her from running over to the hero, grabbing onto him and crying. "Agh- Help! Please! They were trying to rape me!" the girl screamed, crying into him.
Oxzy moved her behind him, turning his attention to the two men in front of him. He wanted to kill them. But he knew he couldn't.
He turned to the girl, hearing the men groan in pain as they stood up. "Stay here." He didn't know if others were trying to get to her, and he had to keep her safe.
Jutting his hands out, he drew a bit of dirt up from under the concrete to cover the ground beneath the girl, and soon leaves and bushes sprouted around her. The girl gasped in shock and amazement, distracted from what the hero was about to do. Once he knew she was safely blocked by the thick leaves, he turned his full attention to the men in front of him, who in turn fixed their attention on him.
"Fuck, it's this guy," one of them said, annoying the other man, who pulled his pants up.
He turned to the hero. "You just gotta ruin the fun, eh, Oxzy?" He laughed loudly, not caring an inch about what was coming. The other guy did care—he slowly moved back, but the hero didn't allow it.
In one quick motion, both men were swept into the air. The air around them sped up as Oxzy moved his arms as if casting a spell, thickening the air in the space between the two men. They began to choke. The hero was suffocating them, though he knew he couldn't kill them. He had to take them to the sheriff's office.
He closed his eyes, creating a map in his head while the ground beneath them turned cold and icy. The hero dropped them, making them slide across the icy pavement and along the path he'd mapped out, straight to the sheriff's office. Oxzy opened his eyes, directing the air to push the two men down to the office.
He then turned to the girl, releasing the bushes and freeing her. She turned to him, tears still running down her face. But a smile lifted her lips. "Thank you, Oxzy."
Oxzy bowed his head in return, then stood back up, facing her with a cool gaze. "Do you want to go to the sheriff's office to report them? Or home?"
She took a moment to think before deciding. "I—... I want to report them as quickly as possible." The hero nodded.
Without even touching the young girl, Oxzy led her to the office, where the two men were handcuffed and taken into another room. The sheriff knew Oxzy and kept his eyes low, avoiding contact with him. Instead, he turned his attention to the girl, asking questions until her parents arrived.
Oxzy was about to leave, now that he knew the girl was safe, when her father—who had burst in after hearing the news—stopped him. His angry face pushed into the hero's. "What the hell, Oxzy!? You should have saved my baby girl sooner! Now she's scarred! You're supposed to save people, not fucking get them—"
"Ok, ok, enough of that." The sheriff walked in between the angry man and the hero, pushing away the furious father who had his hands on the hero's collar. The hero staggered back, pulling at the cuffed collar of his dress shirt to make it comfortable again. The sheriff turned to the hero as the other officer came up to take the enraged father away. "Thanks again, Oxzy. I'll make sure they get punished."
Oxzy stayed silent, only nodding to the young man in uniform. The hero left while hearing the sheriff calm the family down, swinging the doors open and walking back out into the rubble-filled streets toward home.
Before deciding to return to his small apartment, Oxzy walked around for a few more minutes, tailing the streets and alleyways for trouble. He pressed on, venturing around a little longer until it started to get dark—dark enough that he could tell most people were asleep.
When the hero grew tired, he started making his way back to his apartment. While walking, he sensed he was being followed, or better yet—
watched.
"Tired?" A rough, thick voice called down from atop a building. It traveled through the air like a knife, sliding straight into Oxzy's heart. He stopped in his tracks, turning up to peer at the male on the rooftop.
The hero's mood and body tensed completely; he clenched his hands, glaring at the smirking man who looked back at him. Oxzy stayed silent, keeping a cool gaze fixed on Pierce.
The auburn-haired devil let out a soft chuckle, lowering his brown eyes. Even with his mocking look and laugh, the hero remained silent. The villain shook his head, almost as if he'd expected the reaction. He had.
The two always started off with snarky remarks, usually with the villain instigating. In this moment, the villain was bored, wandering across the rooftops in hopes of finding something fun. Now here he was, looking down at the exact amusement he wanted.
"You look tired. Always staying up past your bedtime~"
"What do you want?" The hero didn't let anything slide, going straight to the point as he faced the figure above him fully. It was more of a demand than a question, and the villain took it in, feeling excitement swell inside him.
"I'm bored," Pierce said, getting straight to the point as well, moving so his hands rested behind his back. He leaned down, giving the angry hero a mocking look. "I'm hoping you'll entertain me."
The hero rolled his gray-blue eyes, looking away as if the villain were an ignorant child. "Fuck off. I don't have time to play with you, Pierce."
The villain couldn't help but snicker menacingly. "I don't think you have a choice, Ox..." With his last mocking words, he flexed out his right hand. A bright burst of yellow and red rocketed from his fingertips. The blast tore through the base of the building he stood on, sending the three-story structure toppling over.
The hero flew fast to catch the falling bricks, using the trees beside the building and moving his arms to make them grow.
"Errg..."
Leaves sprouted alongside new branches, rising beneath the half-broken building and catching the bricks along with Oxzy, who was trapped underneath. He could feel bricks continuing to fall from the unsteady, shattered structure.
"Agh..." he breathed out, a spike of pain shooting through his head.
Using his other shaking hand, braced against the fallen building to keep it up, he closed his eyes and focused. His energy surged, and suddenly ice crystals spiked upward, helping hold the structure in place. Oxzy didn't usually need to go this far—which was exactly why it cost him so much energy.
"Mmmh... Errgh...!"
Just as his fingers began to sting and his body started to ache from the crushing weight above him, a tall figure walked into view. The villain approached with a wide smirk, tilting his head at the fallen hero and watching Oxzy strain to summon the ice spikes needed to support the building he himself had destroyed.
His smirk grew wider.
Close enough now to the crouched hero, he tilted his upper body down to meet the curly-haired man's gaze. With a wide smile, he laughed aloud in mock pity. "Because you will always entertain me. Even when you don't want to."
Oxzy glared back, grunting curses through gritted teeth. "Fucking... ughhrr..." Pierce only smiled, letting out a few more laughs before turning around. By the time the villain finished mocking him, Oxzy had gotten the spikes to hold the building steady enough that he no longer needed to support it himself.
"Fuck... you..." Oxzy gritted out, sprinting toward the villain. Pierce saw it coming and sidestepped just in time to dodge the flying hero. He shifted his weight, leaping onto the fallen building instead. The spikes cracked beneath him, and the structure began collapsing once more.
"Oh, please do~" Pierce replied snarkily.
Oxzy gritted his teeth at him. A sudden burst of leaves and wood flew around the villain, entangling him in a tangled mess. Pierce only laughed at being caught in the earth's grasp—all he had to do was wave his left hand, sending black dust swirling around himself and the greenery. The hero rolled his eyes, already knowing what would come next.
The villain was gone, no longer tangled in the tree's wreckage. Oxzy knew what had happened—the villain had vanished into the air, traveling to wherever he pleased. Sighing out loud, Oxzy looked around at his surroundings. He didn't know when the villain would reappear to continue, so he waited a few more minutes.
As the minutes passed, Oxzy felt his strength and energy return. He looked around once more before heading back to the mess the villain had made. Picking up the wreckage the villain started—and that he'd helped cause—he used most of his remaining energy to clear it, calming himself as best he could.
It worked, for the most part; the building still lay on the ground in a crumpled pile. Once he'd cleared the spikes and branches, the hero called the sheriffs before planning to head home. The boss in charge told him to stay put until he arrived. Oxzy could only groan in annoyance, but he decided to wait until the police showed up.
They arrived and asked a few questions, and Oxzy answered with little enthusiasm.
"Can't you guys be more damn careful?" the sheriff groaned, rubbing his temple in annoyance. Oxzy stayed silent, looking sideways to avoid the eye contact the sheriff wanted. "Even if you've got damn gifts, you don't pay for the damage you and Pierce cause. So be fucking careful!" With those spiteful words, the sheriff struck the hero's chest, hoping to knock some sense into him.
The sheriff huffed, pulling back his hand. He shook his head, a wave of guilt creeping up his spine. Looking at the man with curly hair, he couldn't help but let his shoulders fall at the sight of the hero's emotionless expression fixed on the ground. He muttered a word that flew past the hero's head before turning around and calling in backup to finish clearing the mess.
The hero simply nodded, pretending to understand, agree, and feel sorry. The police told him this after every fight between him and the villain, so this was only the hundredth time he'd heard it—he'd grown used to cleaning up after the villain and taking the blame.
It was almost like a second job, on top of saving everyone in town.
~Cleoi, Oxzy's apartment~
He finally got home near 1:00 a.m., tired and drained of energy. He set his things down before changing in the bathroom, though he barely had the energy to do even that. Still, he managed—throwing off his white dress shirt and dirty, ripped brown sweater, and pulling on another shirt, a black one, bigger than the brown. It was comfortable, paired with pitch-black boxers to sleep in.
The only comfort Oxzy had all day was coming home to his Siamese cat, Cirilla May. The fluffy kitty purred at the sight of him, jumping up to rub her head against his knuckles. He let out a soft smile, relaxing on his bed within minutes. Feeling her soft fur between his fingers, the hero was immediately at ease.
The cat mewed while gazing up at her owner's tired, sleepy face. She stretched her soft black paws between his legs to reach his chest. Oxzy took the hint and scratched behind her ear until she, too, relaxed.
With her soft purring vibrating through his whole body and heart, paired with her fur gliding through his fingers, Oxzy felt calm.
~The Grubs, Pierce's home~
Pierce stretched out his stiff arms, hoping the tension in his muscles would ease. He'd made it back to the rubble-filled dump he called home after having some fun with the hero. He always enjoyed seeing the hero angry—it reminded him of an angry poodle. The black, curly mess of hair, the threatening eyes that would scare any bystander—it merely entertained him.
Walking past the homeless and the gangsters who cowered in his presence, Pierce turned down the street where his family lived. The poor, thief-filled house matched the squalor outside it. Rubble and blood stained the floor, trash overflowed, and the air reeked of meth.
The people around it fared no better—smoking, drinking, injecting unknown substances in search of a good buzz. They all looked away as he passed, fearing that if he was in a bad mood from a hero-villain fight, he might burn them the way he once burned his siblings.
But the villain was in a good mood, smirking all the way to the front door. Walking in, he found his parents fighting about something trivial in his home. They'd come unannounced again—his mother to deliver news, his father to steal some booze. When they spotted him, his mother, Zella Imber, the less fearsome of the two, called out to him. "Hey, we got a new job for you!"
Without so much as a hello, he was already being told what to do. He was used to it by now—hell, he'd agreed to take on these jobs from his mother in the first place. The work usually involved stealing, killing, destroying, and sometimes kidnapping. Thanks to his "gifts," Pierce could accomplish all of it with ease and speed.
It brought them money, which was why he was the most useful of all seven siblings. It used to irritate Pierce at first, but after doing it for a few years, he realized how much he enjoyed it. Well—he enjoyed the hero's reaction to him.
The hero, Oxzy, gave him attention every time he caused trouble, and the villain loved every second of it. That attention was a drug, and Pierce had long since lost count of how many times he'd chased the high.
"Cool. Tell me tomorrow and I'll do it then." Pierce didn't even look at them. He simply walked to the fridge to grab a beer, as if the conversation held no weight at all.
The mother rolled her eyes at him and stepped closer, her voice sharpening in an attempt at clarity. "But you have to do it tonight. It won't be easy if you wait until tomorrow—"
Pierce slammed the fridge shut hard enough to break the handle, and the sound made both parents flinch. He glanced at his mother, who despite her obvious fear held her ground with a stubborn, trembling confidence. "I said I'll do it tomorrow."
Neither of them argued further. The woman only nodded and turned away, her shoulders stiff with the effort of composure. Pierce smiled, savoring the moment like the villain he'd become, then gave his parents one last look before heading up the stairs. He couldn't help but laugh when he reached his room, remembering the expression on his father's face. The old man, Azeral Imber, had looked ready to wet himself from fear, his hands shaking at his sides. He'd never learned to mask his terror the way his wife had; decades of marriage hadn't taught him that particular survival skill.
But the high of frightening his own parents faded faster than it came, leaving behind a familiar hollowness.
Soon he lay down on the beat-up mattress he kept on the open skyline roof, letting the gross, polluted air drift through his spiky auburn hair. The city stretched out below him, indifferent and glittering, utterly unaware of the boy who ruled its underbelly through fear alone. For a moment, Pierce let himself feel small beneath that vast, dirty sky. The villain felt a soft twinge of loneliness, the kind he'd never admit to anyone, not even himself in the daylight hours when the mask fit more easily.