Joy ride (part1): Stealing

midnight stroll

They both stand, frozen; caught, in the act. Their impromptu audience witness to a tableau of violence caught unmoving like marble. Telling their tale with their flesh-and blood bodies like statues. One James would very much like to hide; disappear. Ghost away,

Yet he is unable to break his pose, frozen in the sudden light. James's hand; the flesh one, still stretched out, palm open and arm throat out in an obvious attack, heavy shadows throwing him into relief against the ballisade. Mohai, a little off to his side. Her throat, barely an inch from his outstretched fingers. A slow trickle of blood flows from the side of her neck, where James's fingers had still nicked her. His aim, uncharacteristically off, disrupted by the chiming feedback still ringing in his ears. Bucky's fingers, opening the first inch of Mohai's throat like a zipper, so easily exposing the insides. A few inches to the right, and he would have exposed her traega. Opened her jugular artery and turned it into a red, spurting fountain of blood..

"James..!" The Queen, herself, flanked by a Dora entourage. Dark shadows illuminated from inside, standing just inside from the glass doors. Her tone knocks the spear away from James, his vibranium hand slackened by the Queen's voice of authority. Indignant, high-pitched; Yet broken. Disappointed. The tall spear-shaft hits the floor, clanging to the ground in a drum-ruffle that echoes the shocks down his arm yet a moment ago. Mohai chokes once, releasing James from his unwilling silent confession. Finally able to move, he turns his head to watch, horrified, as she backs up, coughing. Hands to her throat, catching the trickle of blood and smearing it to something even more obtrusive.

James turns, slowly. Queen Ramonda steps forward, wavers on the threshold, straight backed, hands clapped together. Her shocked expression can only be outdone by the woman coming up besides her: General Okoye, a grimace of distaste. But, worse, the underlying emotion: a wry twist of the lips, a complete lack of surprise. Her expression says 'I knew it', like a verdict: judged and jouried. Guilty as charged.

"I didn't." James croaks out, finally. Finding a strength he didn't know he possessed to move back. Back to his railing. The one he should never have left. He grabs it, like a life-line.

"You.." Mohai is suddenly the undivided attention of their gathering, every head turning her way. Her shock-addled voice provides the unneeded summary of what all had already seen. "He," she catches, turns her cloudy eyes to fix on James, gaze sharpening in accusation: "you almost killed me."

His voice is gone, the marble under his metal hand is somehow unsteady. Like little tremors of an earthquake. James snatches it loose from the marble, fingers screeching where they fail to release right. He runs the metal hand through his hair, clumsily pulling roots from his scalp. Yet, it gives him enough of an anchor to repeat, "I didn't."

He didn't kill her. Mohai is fine. She is okay. Unharmed, mostly. A deep breath; a moment for James to will the fact -the important fact out there. "You are fine.." Though James's beard is suffocating his burning face. Though they all stare and it's physically painful; makes him feel like an ant caught under a magnifying glass, their gazes like the sun, burning him into oblivion. James thought he was beyond shame, yet it turns out he was wrong. "You are fine." he repeats, nearly defeated by the effort.

Ramonda gathers herself first; straightens, another half-inch. Then, visibly forces herself to relax; attempts a regal smile. "Fortunately, no irreparable damage," she nearly stalls, only James's training picking up the stutter. Witness to her awareness of how close they had gotten to something far worse. "Okoye, please escort our warrior to the medics. I will care for.. James."

Again, had James been anyone else, he would have missed the silent exchange between the pair: Okoye's moment of hesitance before she reaches out and takes Mohai by the arm almost carefully. The quick glance of surprise by the queen, then another thin smile. "Or, perhaps you could wait one minute, James. I'll be with you shortly."