Crashing Down

"What a boring country," Brieganne said, peering out the plane's window at the lights of Tokyo far below them. "Biggest city in the world, and it looks dead dull." She pushed her short black hair off her face and tucked it behind her ears, shifting in the uncomfortable seat.

The rest of her team - Sokolov - was scattered across the rest of the aisle, none of them close enough to touch. Reaching out with her gift, she felt along the dead minds of the Japanese, searching for the rogue team Schwarz.

Since Estet was still busily putting itself back together from the disastrous ceremony that had been held on the scattered islands of Japan, Rosenkreuz had had to withdraw it's operatives from other parts of the world. Sokolov had been assembled in less than twenty four hours - an empath, a pyrokinetic, and a prescient - and given the task of going to Japan and hunting down Schwarz for their failure to the Elders.

"Settle down, Bri," Mark Levine said condescendingly. She sniffed irritably, and flicked her fingernail at him.

"Faggot American," she scowled, and his fingers lit up with fire, threateningly.

"Dyke Irish bitch," he growled straight back at her, and Mikhail Timur, the leader and precognitive, put up his hand between them to ward off the impending battle.

"If the two of you bring down this plane, I will hunt you down and personally dismember you before you stop breathing," he threatened. Mark, who had seen him do it before, relaxed into his seat and pulled on his headphones, while Bri turned her attention back out the window.

"Stupid fucking Japs," she muttered under her breath.

--

Oh look, I'm writing. It feels strange to be writing fanfiction again, especially for Weiss. Hopefully this one will see an end before I lose interest in it.