Let the twins have their fun, then step in and save the day.

It’s not an easy choice, really. You reflect while watching the generic goons fly everywhere. On one hand, the Malachite sisters aren’t made of glass, nor would they appreciate you getting in the way of their job. Even if you know they’re about to have their pretty little asses handed to them.

On the other hand, you really, really need to blow off some steam.

Undecided as you are, the twins soon join the fray and take the decision out of your hands. As they dance around the intruder, you can’t help but marvel at their grace and skill. They’re two against one, sure. And they’ll lose in the end, too true. But they just told you their skills are self-taught, and they’re fighting Signal Academy’s star student.

That… that takes a moment to sink in, because really. Yang has been training with some of the best humanity has to offer since she birth, even before that, if we count where her genes came from. She also has a very combat-ready semblance to top it off.

The twins have… what? Experience fighting mooks and martial arts picked from god knows where. When it’s obvious they take their training seriously -nobody gets that good just beating up drunkards-, there’s simply no comparison. And yet there they are, giving it their all. And making Yang sweat for her victory.

As if on cue, Miltia is sent flying, and only a quick save on your part keeps her from following Junior’s example through another glass pane and into the wall. There’s a moment of surprise, because you clearly remember being on the other side of the room a second ago, but you’ve always been close enough to jump and catch her.

… Oh, yeah, omnipotence. You really need to stop using that on reflex, rewriting history just to catch a beautiful lady is… okay, no. It’s completely worth it, but you shouldn’t do it without thinking. Fabric of reality on risk and all that.

You eye the aforementioned red-clad beauty you have now in a bridal carry. She’s obviously a bit battered and bruised but seems more dazed than hurt. Aura is truly a marvelous thing, you think with relief. It’s still not cool though.

“Should I get there?” You growl more than ask.

“It’s fine.” She answers softly, shaking her head “Mel has it.”

No, she doesn’t, but you can’t very well go and say it “Fine, but if she seems like she’s losing all bets are off.” Miltia nods, eyes on the fight, but maybe hugging my frame a bit tighter than strictly necessary.

That reminds you what you were doing before the plot so rudely interrupted your fun, surprising as it might be, that does nothing to calm your temper.

“Are you… standing on the wall?” Her words catch you completely by surprise. Taking a peek over her body, you notice the two of you are hanging a good nine feet over the floor, your feet and back stuck on the wall a la Spiderman.

“... Maybe.” Goddamnit, get a hold of your powers before you do something really stupid.

Before you can think of a way to excuse your abilities -walking on walls is so not becoming your official Semblance- Yang grabs a hold of Melanie’s arm, and you remember enough for the trailer to know their fight is about to end.

So, firm in your resolution of not doing stupid things anymore, you very sensibly throw a half-full tequila bottle at the buxom blonde’s head. Instead of… you know, a meteorite. Or a Kamehameha. She dodges, of course, but the contents somewhat, somehow, manage to spill all over her hair, utterly killing her vibe.

One could say you now have her full attention.

After dropping to the ground and letting go of Miltia, you focus your attention back on Yang. It’s not like you hate her, really. She’s usually a fun girl and hot as all heck, but at this moment she’s acting like a petty bully, throwing her strength around like it’s going out of style and causing thousands of liens in property damage and hospital bills. That’s just not cool.

Worst of all, she’s messing with someone you’re in the process of tagging as ‘yours’.

“How about you try someone on your league, blondie?” Casually walking towards the blonde, you roll your shoulders to loosen up your body. You’re not worried about fighting Yang, per se. But you should probably pick a fighting style and stick to it. You know, like normal people do. So nobody looks at you weird? Okay, weirder. Whatever.

That’s actually a good point, so you stop time while reflecting on it. There are a lot of styles out there, some of them truly amazing. Best of all? You don’t need to stick to real ones! You could go around using the Panzer Kust or the Hokuto Shinken and they would work as intended, if only because you say so.

So maybe you have a slight fangasm thinking on the possibilities, but in the end you decide on Aiki-jūjutsu for a very simple reason: It’s a style completely reactive that requires minimal strategizing from your part. Based in counters, throws and joint locks, muscle-memory does most of the job, so you can pretty much run it on auto-pilot, simply letting the opponent choose how they want to be humiliated.

That way nobody can tell you basically imprinted the training into yourself and have no idea how to properly employ it. It’s perfect!

Focusing back on the target, you let time resume its course. Okay, time wipe the floor with your new golden broom.