The girl sprawled out on the couch blinks up at her, blonde hair thick with drying blood. “How did you know?”
She sets the girl’s order — one coffee, dark as mortally possible — down on the low table between them, pointedly avoiding the scabbard and its suspiciously green stains lying carelessly on the wood. “Well, you’re carrying around an awful lot of weapons, for starters.”
The girl grins. “I’d say it’s a reasonable amount, all things considered, but do go on.”
Blake folds her arms over her chest. Her smile has no right to be as charming as it is. “And you’re covered in blood that isn’t yours.”
“Oh, really? Didn’t even notice.”
“And —” Blake points to the sack hastily pushed under the table, “you’re carrying around a dragon head.”
The girl folds her arms behind her head. “How do you know it’s a dragon? Could be my rations for the evening, Miss…?”
“Yang Xiao Long. My non-draconic rations and I offer you our thanks for your hospitality.”
“You’re remarkably singed,” she observes, sidestepping the particularly disarming edge to the brightness in those lilac eyes. Yang is, she guesses, teasing her — pushing her buttons to get her to crack a smile and/or stop with this specific line of questioning, and it doesn’t help that she’s almost magnetically charming —
“I like to live dangerously,” Yang shrugs. “And, hey, if you happen to know anyone who would be in the market for a few dragon scales —”
“I’ll be sure to tell them to steer clear of you,” Blake finishes, biting her lip to keep herself from smiling.
\
“I have no idea how you managed that.”
Blake shrugs. “A reward for putting up with her patronage, apparently.”
Weiss eyes the dragon head on their counter and takes a measured step back. “And who did you manage to charm into this… donation, exactly?”
“You know the bounty hunter girl?”
“The one who keeps flirting with you in front of our nice normal customers?” She wrinkles her nose. “Yeah, I know the one you mean. What did you do to piss her off? Is this a sign of our impending doom?”
“She said it would pay for all of our repairs,” Blake says, gesturing to the smashed window courtesy of last week’s bar fight. “She knows a guy who’ll take it for 200 crowns.”
Weiss’s jaw drops. Blake thinks of how Yang had winked and offered her a date as she’d dropped the dragon head on the counter and suppresses a smile.
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FILL: TEAM CATRADORA
Date: 2023-09-02 10:59 pm (UTC)words: 428
ship: blake belladonna/yang xiao long
“Bounty hunter?” Blake guesses.
The girl sprawled out on the couch blinks up at her, blonde hair thick with drying blood. “How did you know?”
She sets the girl’s order — one coffee, dark as mortally possible — down on the low table between them, pointedly avoiding the scabbard and its suspiciously green stains lying carelessly on the wood. “Well, you’re carrying around an awful lot of weapons, for starters.”
The girl grins. “I’d say it’s a reasonable amount, all things considered, but do go on.”
Blake folds her arms over her chest. Her smile has no right to be as charming as it is. “And you’re covered in blood that isn’t yours.”
“Oh, really? Didn’t even notice.”
“And —” Blake points to the sack hastily pushed under the table, “you’re carrying around a dragon head.”
The girl folds her arms behind her head. “How do you know it’s a dragon? Could be my rations for the evening, Miss…?”
“Belladonna,” Blake says, feigning indifference. “Blake Belladonna.”
“Yang Xiao Long. My non-draconic rations and I offer you our thanks for your hospitality.”
“You’re remarkably singed,” she observes, sidestepping the particularly disarming edge to the brightness in those lilac eyes. Yang is, she guesses, teasing her — pushing her buttons to get her to crack a smile and/or stop with this specific line of questioning, and it doesn’t help that she’s almost magnetically charming —
“I like to live dangerously,” Yang shrugs. “And, hey, if you happen to know anyone who would be in the market for a few dragon scales —”
“I’ll be sure to tell them to steer clear of you,” Blake finishes, biting her lip to keep herself from smiling.
\
“I have no idea how you managed that.”
Blake shrugs. “A reward for putting up with her patronage, apparently.”
Weiss eyes the dragon head on their counter and takes a measured step back. “And who did you manage to charm into this… donation, exactly?”
“You know the bounty hunter girl?”
“The one who keeps flirting with you in front of our nice normal customers?” She wrinkles her nose. “Yeah, I know the one you mean. What did you do to piss her off? Is this a sign of our impending doom?”
“She said it would pay for all of our repairs,” Blake says, gesturing to the smashed window courtesy of last week’s bar fight. “She knows a guy who’ll take it for 200 crowns.”
Weiss’s jaw drops. Blake thinks of how Yang had winked and offered her a date as she’d dropped the dragon head on the counter and suppresses a smile.