Phighting: TAKEOVER!

CHAPTER SEVEN - Scythe Gets In A Skirmish

> Scythe POV.

Scythe kicked the door open. Inside, there was a group of Phighters quietly playing a card game, the cards flying into the air and skittering to the ground as they jumped up, backing off. A Phighter who had probably had a few too many drinks caterwauled on a karaoke machine, profoundly unaware she was slipping off her stool. She landed on her backside in stunned silence as Scythe's boots click-clacked across the polished wood floor.

The bartender hid behind the counter with a yelp. That wasn't relevant. Scythe's eye was on the pair of Phighters sitting on barstools in the corner, sipping something from frothy mugs.

"Oi, you two!" she tossed a glass in their direction, the glass shattering on impact with the bar and falling to the ground in glittering white pieces.

The first turned to face her while the other one stood up and went to the restroom. The Phighter was adorned with a red kimono, black studs on the cuffs, and a metal mask carved and painted with a bird-like design. "Scythe."

"Tana. Howdy do. Now, let's cut the greetings," Scythe took out her scythe, the end clicking into place as the fluorescent blade slid from the handle. "Where's Broker?"

"It's Katana. And I do not care where or what your friend is doing and I haven't seen him in a while."

"Gesundheit, Katana. Let's go over the facts, huh?" Scythe twirled her weapon and set her foot on a table, leaning forward with her chin propped on her hand. "Last time, you had snatched him up so that you could fistfight in a parking lot. Who's to say you don't just want a rematch?"

"He organized it. I just wanted a challenge," Katana snorted, gracefully sliding his thin, curved blade from its sheath. The metal caught the light of a chandelier up above and cast a small patch of light on the wall.

"Impressive. Ya even upgraded it from our last skirmish. Where was all that flash when we were close? Could have made those times more fun," Scythe smirked. She gripped her scythe tighter, about to pounce. Katana slowly rose from his stool, sliding one foot back into a launch position.

"Don't start with that. We were never close."

"Let's dance, 'Tana."

The restroom door suddenly flew open and in tramped Katana's buddy who had been with him when Scythe entered. The man's black armor barley made a sound as he bent down next to Katana and started trawling around under the bar for something. "Hey, I think I dropped a coin somewhere."

"...We're in the middle of something here, bucko," Scythe interjected. The man turned to face her, his head concealed by an obsidian-toned helmet. Blue lights flashed on the edges, and the antennae twitched curiously. "So this is the distinguished Scythe. Can't see her too well. She's shorter than I imagined."

Katana sighed, scouring a hand over a nick in his mask. "Hyperlaser, my friend, not now."

Hyperlaser pulled out a railgun, matching his attire. "You in a standoff, Katana? Need me to help you bust the competition?"

Scythe was now beginning to grasp at her scarf, itching to start fighting. "Well? Is he in or not?" The bartender and other patrons blink-blinked at the scene, cowering behind the bar.

Scythe rolled her eyes. "I expected more of ya, Katana."

"Shall we fight or are we going to waste precious time?" Katana snapped.

"Wait, hold on," Hyperlaser fiddled with his railgun. "I think it's jammed--"

"Well, tell him to hurry up, 'Tana."

"His name is not 'Tana,' it's Katana, you disrespectful little twit--"

The double doors burst open. In ran a Phighter, his helmet slipping off his bruised face and his skateboard clattering to the ground. All three in the standoff jumped and turned to face him as one.

"Someone... please, please, help... we're... they're gonna find me, and--and..."

His voice ran out. His eyes rolled back into his head. 

The Phighter collapsed on the floor.