Fox Season Rabbit Season

She was sitting up on the ledge of a building, feet hanging from the edge, and looking, lazily, down into the streets below. Cars went by, people moved about, and city roared with life as it usually did. It was cooler, though there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, not that it mattered all that much in the city; ya could never see much in the sky given the bright lights of the city, no stars to gaze up at, only a bright moon whose light was easily outshone.

It was a city never slept, and Melody knew this, but still…she was not the city and she certainly did need her sleep. It was late in the NYC now, just a bit passed midnight, and for whatever reason, Melody had agreed to take the night watch for this evening. Usually she had left that to Sam who preferred evening time patrols, but there was some horror flick that he had to catch the premier of. He had been real good lately, the perfect sort she could rely on and she had, not that she had a hope of denying, agreed to letting him take the evening off.

This was a choice she was soon regretting. She should’ve delegated this task to Wyatt, but he was off in another country on some hero work or something, she honestly didn’t care to catch all the details. The gist was that he was gonna do something to get better at heroing to get stronger? She wasn’t all that sure, but she was sure that he wasn’t here and that’s all that really mattered right now.

What made it worse was that so far it had been an unbelievably quiet. The streets below sure did hum with light and with life, and the folks down below surely weren’t tired. The problem was, however, none of those active and awake in the streets had any bit of crime to do. This made the painful drag of the cool evening move even slower. As much as it was a duty of heroes to prevent crime it sure was boring for there to be no crime at all! And in the city for that matter! It was surprising, there was usually something going on that would call her forth, but…tonight…tonight was a real drag.

She let out a small yawn, bringing a hand to cover mouth as she slumped a bit. “Come on, ya bastard…do something?” And just as she spoke, it seemed as though the city had a reply for her. Her ears flicked and somewhere in the distance a siren went rushing by. She perked up leaning forward, over the edge and tried to pinpoint where exactly it was coming from. It was close…very close, and urgent, but…where was it going. Her head seemed to move with the sound, her eyes narrowing as she tried to find it.

And then her eyes caught it. Red and blue lights flashing by in a distance street, heading to the west. She had no idea how to pinpoint where they were going, but it was a lead and that was more than enough for her.

She pounded her fist together and gave a few thumps of her foot. In the next moment, with the use of some energy, she leaped from the ledge and went soaring through the sir. She managed to get to the next roof and then ran to the edge, jumping once more, and then again. Soon, she was bounding from building to building, searching, following that siren, hoping that wherever she was headed it was away from the boring air that had infected her so.

Finally, there was something to do. She just hoped it was a good one…

New York City. The Big Apple. The city that never sleeps.

Of all the places for Dana to be dumped into when The Maestro's cosmic trap went off, robbing the vixen of her vengeance, NYC on another Earth was a destination with both weal and woe. The good news is that she had used to be a New Yorker herself... namely, from Western New York. Hence one of her less-pleasant titles in what used to be Lockport -- the Demon of Lock City. At least she spoke English as her native tongue, and even had that N'Yawker accent to boot. At least her exotic flip phone could still get service on an Earth where the Nunopda phone company doesn't exist.

The bad news is that, on top of being totally alien to her compared to the apocalypse, the so-called Age Before wasn't all it was cracked up to be. This was no golden age of prosperity as many believed it. Things were still rough all over for plenty of people. With all sorts of megalomaniacs with amazing and terrifying powers that existed in this dimension, Dana was starting to miss the monsters and the mundane raiders back home.

On top of that, really mingling with society wasn't great when you had no ID, no money, no job, and no idea what would happen if you tried to get any of them. Sure, this Earth was something out of an old comic book or Saturday morning cartoon. Like something which Dana enjoyed remnants of, among the tech cult that accepted her back home. But it made the world more dangerous overall. For someone with trust issues like her, not being sent to Area 51 to be dissected by mad scientists like daddy dearest was a goal to aspire for. Hell, there was even a special slammer for mutant freaks like her!

But Dana still needed to make ends meet, and needed to keep a low profile. Sure, the concrete jungle was  just another environment to survive, like the overgrown ruins of the Moon-Fallen Earth she hailed from. So odd jobs were had. Nothing that involved an interview and ID. Stuff like mowing lawns or well... carnal jobs that weren't looked fondly upon in American culture. At least she seemed sterile, and her exotic feminine wiles had gotten her some good money so far.  Maybe Dana was better off trying to integrate into this strange, yet familiar, society after all. As much of a fish out of water as she was, surely someone had to want a foxy gun nut as a roomie, and it was summertime. Plenty of older kids out of school -- an actual school system! -- to inspire businesses to take openings for new blood. To maintain the societal tradition of money for labor.

But if Dana lived long enough to make it through the night, surely she would never have that chance to join this society again. She messed that chance up bad.

In all fairness, every half-assed state and society left in Moon-Fallen America was a 'stand your ground' state. With gangs of raiders and gangers ready to attack in the scarcity of a fifty-year-old apocalypse, pulling the trigger on someone was life and death. Something in the vixen snapped as a fellow red-lighter was being abused by a particularly nasty client of hers. The repeat offender went too far this time. The moment the asshole pulled a mousegun and threatened the already-bloodied hooker, Dana had already cleared pleather on her blaster. Before anyone knew it ol' Alexis Boxx's mascara, running from tears, was mingled with blood, gray matter and purplish ghostly goop.

Of course, Ms Boxx screamed in horror as the now-headless corpse hit the ground, more of the neck-stump turning to that mauve sludge as moments passed. Dana's head still rang from the loud gory crack, though was now some twenty minutes or so after another human life was ended by her scary blaster. And of course, the fellow hooker ratted her out to the cops. Not the first time Dana had to evade sirens and flashing red-and-blue lights, but this also wasn't her post-apocalyptic stomping grounds. If she got caught, it'd probably be a life sentence in that metahuman prison she'd heard about. From all she knew of New York from the Age Before, a death sentence was a privilege she'd be denied in the Empire State.

She was now lingering in a warehouse. No one was inside last she checked, but she doubted it was truly abandoned. Would she wait until the logistics workers arrived the next morning? Would it even be that long before the police continued their chase inside? Sweet Sekhmet's fucking tits, would they sending a fucking K9 Unit after her?!

Every now and then, fear did manage to grip the Apocalypse Fox. In spite of all the dangers and all the monsters and all the psykers she'd encountered on her Earth? As the fox-woman huddled in the rafters, ears pinned and tail waving low like a white flag of surrender? She was absolutely terrified. Facing death and dismemberment was one thing. Facing a life sentence was another. Even if there was a good argument for self-defense, protecting herself and another from violence, none of her appeals came to mind as she huddled near the ceiling.

"Fuckin' hell... wha' didja get yerself into this time, Dana-Marie?", she whimpered to herself, the plasteel pistol shaking in her hand. At least for those long moments, only terrible daydreaming of her fate kept Dana company.

The crime, as it were, was unusual. Except, unusual for Melody had become the usual. Strange looking villains were a common case in her line of work and even when she heard the description of the perp, a strange fox-looking person, bipedal in nature and not so unlike a person, she didn’t flinch. She had beat up and captured her fair share of weird animal-looking villains before, from the Horned Terror Taurus to the laughable hijinks of the Duo Slothman and Slug-Girl, the slowest criminals she ever had to face. She had almost forgotten about those last ones and their leader, the Terrible Tortoise.

She put them out of her head, though, despite the good-natured grin it brought to her expression. This case was different in many ways, something didn’t sit right about it in her stomach. There was no motive, no theft, and repeated aggression. She doubted this was a serial killer as there was nothing all that special about the victim. Honestly, Mel thought the victim, by the description of him…that being the description of him before he was turned to goo, not a description of the goo. Although, she had also dealt with a goo-like villain once so it wouldn’t be that outlandish to think that goo belonged in jail.

She was getting offtrack again.

There was a lot wrong with this case. One, as she had gone over before, no motive. Two was the means, she could understand that there was some ‘interesting’ looking metas out there, but for a meta to have the means to the turn someone into a pile of goo…and it was claimed that the perp had a weapon of some kind. That…that must have meant…well, she didn’t know what that meant. And then three, there was another weapon found on the scene, a smaller gun. It was a peashooter, essentially, but still dangerous. The way it was all wrapping up it seemed like this could have been chalked down to some form of self-defense, or perhaps protection of the witness at the scene.

The problem was that someone was murdered, something that Melody often considered a crime. Even still, it didn’t sit well with her. There had to be something more than this, although that was usually the case. That “something more” wasn’t always good, but whoever the perp was deserved the chance to at least explain their end and from there she would have to choose what to do with them.

At the end of it, there wasn’t much more to be gathered at the scene of the crime or from the cops investigating. They had some leads they were going to investigate, but it was all just grabbing at loose strings. Round up the usuals sort of deal, usuals in this case being any strange looking, non-hero meta that had minor criminal records. For Melody, though, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to take her usual route on this. Beating up this criminal and throwing them in a cell…maybe it would come to that, but she wanted to find this person first and then decide what to do.

Thankfully, she had her own ways of going about this case. The perp wasn’t all that hard to miss, and in the city that never sleeps, with eyes peering from every window and down every alley, it was honestly hard not to go on unseen, especially if you were…not exactly human looking. Sure, some could blend in with a crowd, but in this case Melody doubted there would be much in terms of blending in. There was a trail, after all, of reports coming saying that they had seen a strange individual moving through the streets and while not every description lined up, there was enough crossover to determine a section of the city. That section of the city, after talking with homeless and “consulting” a few thugs she had put away before, she managed to narrow it down even further, this time to a few blocks and that would have to do.

The blocks she ended up at were strangely quiet. Only the occasion vagrant made any real noise, no real traffic this side of the city. She stood on top of one of the many abandoned buildings in this block, peering out over what she could and trying to narrow it down further. On this block there was a few abandoned buildings that would make for a good hideaway. But thinking more on it…homeless often dwelled in this buildings and they were witnesses. If she were on the run she would certainly avoid those.

On the next block over…

Warehouses.

Warehouses were the next block over and…to be fair, many criminals hid there. Maybe not specifically there, but warehouses in general. Thinking on it, actually, the last few villains she tracked down had made their hideouts in warehouses. It was honestly becoming a trend and one she could capitalize on. It must’ve been a cliché at this point and the fact that she hadn’t come to this conclusion faster was…well, shame was a word that came to her head, but shame wasn’t really something that sat well with her so she just pushed out of her head.

Whether or not her perp was over there, she decided it was at least worth a look. There was a row of them, three houses lined up next to each other with some space in between. They were sizable to say the least and it’d take quite sometime to go through each, but…dropping in on this runaway didn’t seem like the best course, that’d surprise and spoke ‘em…so…she would take a note from Blackjack’s book, her sidekick.

With a clear of throat and a cupping of her hands around her mouth, she called out to the surrounding buildings. “Ooooooooi! The name’s Rabbit Punch, local hero!” Introductions were a good start, “I know you’re hiding out somewhere here.” This was a lie. “So come on out and make it easier on yourself.” This was the truth. “I just wanna talk, I ain’t gonna take you in just yet! Do you really wanna keep running or do you wanna try and work this out? Come on! Ya don’t want me finding you first!” A bit of a threat at the end, but one in good nature, not said with too much aggression, but a fair enough warning for a hero to make.

Despite the disconnect between this Earth and the one she lived in before, Dana was always a quick learner. She wasn't sure how many homeless people she slipped past, but there was no peep out of anyone while she zipped into the block of warehouses. There was no flashing of red-and-blue lights nor sirens following, so at the least they hadn't found her yet. The scenario of hiding in the ceiling rafters, ready to snipe at anyone who burst in, reminded her of a gunfight from an old post-apocalyptic book she had the pleasure of reading. A Boy and His Dog, right? And not the movie adaptation where people dug up canned peaches in a barren wasteland a la Mad Max. Ol' Max had a reason his dead world was sunbaked: it was in Australia.

Considering the horrible animals and harsh climate that already existed for pre-fall Aussies, how much worse was the apocalypse for them back home? Anything to keep her head from going to darker places.

But speaking of red-and-blue light, it occurred to Dana that those colors made purple. Well, they were supposed to. Red, green and yellow all blended together into a beige for her. Colorblindness and all. But the point is, as she panicked and fled the scene of her crime, it occurred to her that her headless victim probably became a puddle, as the prostitute got splattered by ecto-goo as well as blood and brain bits. Dammit, why did she pull the trigger? Hell, why didn't she reach for her snubnose instead?

Well, she thought to herself, that's an easy answer. If she didn't do something to the jerk who bloodied that hooker up, things would've gone a lot worse. Not could've, but would've. It was excessive force, but the creep already had the Sunday special pressed up to the self-named Boxx. Besides, Dana always reached for her plasma gun first. But even a raygun would've been distraction enough, whether or not the jerk thought it was a legitimate weapon. Dana could take a shot to the guts or the head. Miss Boxx couldn't. If just threatening him with the blaster could've turned his attention to Dana instead--

Huh? The hell was that?! Someone was hollering from outside. Once Dana focused those fanciful sound triangles on her head, she was able to make out the words being spoken. She missed the name, but some chick was out there, saying she knew Dana was there. She rolled her eyes at the offer to talk, immediately galvanizing her worry into a slow-burning anger.

"Yeah, sure y'wanna talk", Dana scoffed to herself. "That's what they all say, n' then th' bullets start flying. Hard pass." Sure, she could see perfectly fine in the dark; enough light crept through square window panes near the roof of the building. Problem was that the Apocalypse Fox didn't have x-ray vision. She had no idea if this... what was her name? She didn't catch all of it. Something with 'punch' in it. No matter. She wasn't sure if Miss Punch had backup, or how close she was to the warehouse where Dana hid. So creeping ever so slowly, ever so carefully across a long I-beam, the vixen inched closer and closer to the window to take a peek.

And if Miss Punch was paying enough attention, she might soon see the yellow-green glint of vulpine eyes high above her, shimmering off dim light from motion-activated lights that the suspect accidentally set off. Those eyes would grow wide and slip out of sight in mere moments, but if seen, it could be a happy accident for the fox after all. Maybe she'd find that the lock-and-chain on a back door was expertly picked open. Maybe?

They'd both know for sure as the midnight oils burned.

It hadn’t been the glint of the fox’s eyes that had caught Melody’s attention.

Well, at least not at first. She did catch them, at least from the corner of her eyes. But it was the vulpine’s words that had caused Melody’s ears to perk, but only for a second. She hadn’t caught every word the fox had said, but it was enough of a noise to set her down the right path. While from the side she did see that faint glow of the runaway’s eyes, she never actually did turn her head to look or make eye contact. She made no indication of even turning in that general direction. No…no no, that would give it all away and send them both into a chase that neither probably wanted.

She had to be clever at this, and she was relatively new to trying to talk to people so she had to overly careful not to give the young fox any wrong impressions. The fact that she wasn’t coming out from her hiding spot told Mel a lot about her, but also the fact that the fox hadn’t made a move against her…that told her that maybe she was onto something before. An attack based on defense. It was still a crime, but…but was it a crime worth beating the snot out of someone and throwing them in jail? Especially if they were confused with their new abilities or face or…whatever it was that set them off?

Probably not…

That was the Sam in her talking. The good natured set of values the dang kid had…they were rubbing off on her and she still wasn’t sure if it was for her. Or even if she would be good at that kind of stuff. It wasn’t what peopled expected, that was for sure. But…at the end of the day it did make her feel better and thoughts of the pointlessness of her acts seemed much less so…

She was standing there too long, waiting too long, it was gonna give her mark time to escape or think of a way out of this. She had to act before it was too late, so…with a sudden powerful hop she took to the air and leapt forward, out of site from the vulpine who she knew was watching her. In the moments that would follow there would be silence, giving the impression that perhaps the rabbit hero had maybe given up or wanted to try somewhere else? She was gone for the moment at least, which did bode well.

That was, however, a short-lived moment. The wall at the side of the warehouse, close to where the Vulpine had been watching her, would suddenly burst and a loud crash would following, creating a more than large hole in the wall.  

Standing in the ruins of the wall stood a very proud looking Melody, ears perked and a wide grin on her face. The goal, at least in her mind, was to get the drop on the perp and get her talking that way! In no way, shape, or form did Melody think that this was in anyway a bad plan that could go poorly for her at all. Nope! This was the perfect way to begin peaceful negotiations.

She would point a thumb at her own chest and give the fox, if fox was still there and in sight, a confident nod. “Hey! You ready for that chat yet? Cause I am raring to go for some good ol’diplomacy, if you’re willing to talk!” Yep! Those words would certainly have the effect that Melody wanted.  Still, though, the look in Melody’s eyes weren’t at all hostile, nor gave any real sign of it. They were fiery with passion and a sort of determination, but there was no ill intent in that, or in the tone she carried her words.

It was way too quiet when Dana slipped away. In a few tense moments, it took her a few to realize that maybe, just maybe she hadn't been seen by this huntress. What Dana did see caught her off-guard. A human with long rabbit-like ears, let alone a bunny-themed outfit. That last bit of the hero's name clicked. Rabbit Punch. It was some sort of move that nicer society might've banned in its toned-down bloodsports. Antsy as always, Dana had to make sure that she kept her head down when the bunny-girl's fists started flying.

So what could happen next? Would Dana run from the scene of the crime? She was fast, sure, but not superhumanly so. Her reflexes were way better than her leg speed, and the stress might affect her ability to flee safely and skillfully. Could she hide? Of course not. There was someone already upon her. There didn't seem any evidence of police backing her up, but that didn't mean Rabbit Punch couldn't find her eventually. There were a few places Dana could've slipped into within the warehouse, but much less were the exits that weren't locked.

The dilemma of injuring or killing someone who was just doing their job flashed into Dana's mind. She had no qualms with this Rabbit Punch gal, but the local champion was all that stood between Dana and the door. Like the cornered animal she was, the vixen intended to make a desperate escape by fighting her way out. She climbed down from the iron rafters on a ladder she'd propped up within. The metallic pinging of paws and digging claws upon it rang out as she climbed down. Halfway down, she drew her pistol and clicked the safety off. A soft electric whine left the blaster, leaving a softer hum that only she -- and her opponent -- could hear to emanate from the slate-colored plasteel.

At that moment, her silent descent came to a clumsy halt. Somehow a big hole had burst from the sheet metal of the warehouse, an oversized metal shed really, that frightened Dana right off the ladder! Righting herself in the air like a cat, she tumbled as she was taught right as her feet met the ground. Instead of breaking her legs, the Apocalypse Fox took a forward roll instead, raising her pistol with a snarl in both hands! Her fangs clenched as the ladder clattered loudly to the ground behind her, but she had those pine green eyes focused intently on her adversary, staring daggers at Melody.

There was an awkward silence once the echoing noises ended, and once Melody's words finished. Dana's eyes left the brawler's torso, only to roll toward the ceiling. "I ain't fallin' for that, girl", she growled. "And you can tell th' cops that the asshole had it comin' to 'im! If I didn't blow his head off, he woulda done the same to that girl. Now, be a good bunny n' run off scared before I blast ya into stew!"

Melody couldn’t help but laugh as she saw the fox lady fall down from the ladder, landing with a fair bit of grace. It wasn’t a mocking laugh, mind you, but more so an amused sort of sound. It was an impressive landing for a trained warrior like herself, but the grace reminded her too much of a cat and not that of a fox, something that she couldn’t really push out of her mind. Still, this was a serious situation and the scornful look burning in the other’s eyes was something that did make those alarm bells in Mel’s head sound.

The gun she held out was impressive though, she had never seen anything quite like it. That was certainly the weapon, and the description did match. For all intents and purposes, this was the mark and laws did state that she had to bring this woman in. Although perhaps there was an alternative, something that could be worked out to some degree. That was, if this woman actually wanted to talk about it. Something in Mel’s gut told her that this woman wouldn’t really make it all that easy for her to get to the talking part. And…judging by the gun, fighting her didn’t seem all that great either. Sure, the energy she had built up would probably mitigate most of the damage, but she could imagine it’d still hurt like hell.

In a sudden motion Mel fell down to her ass and crossed her legs. She rubbed the back of her head with a laugh, a motion that seemed to show that perhaps she wasn’t really taking Dana all that serious like. Or maybe she just wasn’t worried? Or maybe even she had a death wish? Either way, it was a casual enough motion that made Melody, at least in this moment, incredibly unguarded. It was opening for something to happen, but if she could, once more she’d begin to speak.

“I am being honest, ya know. I do wanna talk and if it’s as you say, we have a lot to talk about. And I mean here, not at the station, this ain’t some rant to try and get you to turn yourself in.” She gave a small shrug, “But if you need to burn off steam and get into a fight before you can talk, then…” Her ears perked up and now that blazing energy around them seemed intensify for a moment, “I am more than happy to meet the challenge. I’ll knock ya around until you feel like talking things out.” She pounded a fist into an open palm, giving the fox a wide grin, “So, we doing this the easy way where we talk for a bit? Or do you wanna try and make my day a bit more exciting?” She had spoken with a surprisingly amount of excitement, like she really did want to fight. But she also spoke in a genuine tone, something that could be picked up as, at least to some, as the truth. That same look held in her eyes, an unwavering nature. Either way, she was ready for whatever was coming her way.

Already on-edge and not able to assess Mel's laugh, Dana began to growl with those bared chompers of hers. Doing that instead of gekkering -- a throaty stuttering noise of angry foxes that she had to unlearn, and still fell into sometimes -- made her seem tougher than she felt then and there. At least they did to her. At the end of the day, Dana was still an anthropomorphic animal, vulgar and bloodthirsty or not.

With Rabbit Punch flopping onto her rear almost whimsically, Dana began to get snippy. "That's not--!" But rather than finish her irate gasp, feeling like she wasn't being taken seriously, the fox snapped her fangs shut and snarled all the more, raising her pistol toward the bunny's head!

Now she was getting frustrated with herself, let alone the super before her. Her thoughts raced a mile a minute, conflicted in the unending chaotic warzone of her mind... and war never changes. Showing weakness was not allowed. Weakness took people away from Dana forevermore. She may have been a scout but when caught like she was now, she had to be the cornered animal she was. She had to be a shock trooper.

And it wasn't just atavistic nature that drove Dana's decision, but her nurture. Her Earth was dangerous. If weakness didn't get your loved ones killed, it killed you instead. She wasn't always misanthropic but when humans weren't the most destructive and invasive vermin on Earth? They were its apex predators.

Mel's words barely registered before, but they became gobbledygook the moment Dana felt that surging energy from her spike up. The vixen certainly wasn't thinking rationally before, and now all thoughts ended. Memories of apocalyptic wizards, the smell of ozone from energy weapon fire, the blood and burning flesh and sloughing sludge of viscera becoming ectoplasm...! Whatever this Rabbit Punch could do, she was raring to do it! She couldn't take it anymore! This lying bitch -- she had to be lying to her! -- she was the only thing standing between Dana and freedom!

"FUCK YOU!"

The trigger pulled back, easy as it's ever been under duress. The muffled sound of the electric coilgun crackled in their ears. Before either of them knew it, the dark of the warehouse flashed like a blacklight. Mel would feel a sharp spike of heat in a split-second before it was all over...

...and that the bolt of violet-blue plasma that was meant for her forehead sailed far over her ears, not even singing them from a near-miss. In the span of a second, the bullet of weaponized magic streaked into the sheet metal wall behind Mel, bursting with a thunderous crack. Dana's eyes widened when her unhinged mind caught up to it all. It was hard to say if she was cussing out Rabbit Punch or the frantic, intrusive thoughts in her head.

But the end result was all the same. A hole the size of a softball was blasted into the wall, the edges of the hole dripping into molten slag. Her eyes were wide as dinner plates, her heart deathly still, her body seized in horror at what she had just done. The only thing from killing this negotiating hero before her was a shout, one delivered with so much vitriol that Dana must've jerked her arms upward. This warning shot wasn't intentional.

She had no choice now. She had to fight the punchy rabbit.

The sound of that growl made Mel’s ears flinch, ever so slightly. Maybe it was the rabbit in her that caused a small tremble of fear in her gut, not that that fear would show on her expression. It was a hero’s job, after all, to hide away any signs of fear or worry. A hero had to be steadfast and a person others looked to when something bad happened, to be a source of stability against the chaos of the world. Yes, she was good at hiding that slight tinge of fear, but it was there and something more serious was in those eyes even as she grinned.

If anything, strangely enough, Melody seemed more at ease and to lose that seriousness as the gun was pointed at her head. It wasn’t out of lack of seriousness of the situation, but at least this was the familiar. She had dealt with this before, she had guns pointed at her head every other day and this was no different. Well, perhaps a bit different given what it could do, but she was still confident in her ability to keep her safe.

Still, tough, she wasn’t oblivious to rising anxiety of her adversary. In a strange turn of events, the rabbit had cornered the fox and like any animal corner, there was a defense mechanism put forward. The question was…what to do about it? Leaving wasn’t a choice, so maybe she’d have to try and calm her down. Maybe knocking some sense into her would work as well, but even that seemed like grasping. This was one of those situations where Melody would just have to follow her gut and hope for the best, try her best not to provoke and just…be a source to vent and shoot at while this fox lady calmed down a bit.

Fuck you was another one of those things she dealt with on the daily, almost as frequent as the guns. Perhaps those went hand in hand, but either way, it was still the familiar and something Melody could deal with and prep for. There was still a casual nature in the way she sat as the gun was fired, seeming to know it would miss or perhaps not caring if it hit. Either way, after she felt the heat run overhead and got a chance to look into those eyes of Dana, she could only find herself grinning. This was a different grin though, one that was fierce and determined, like she had been waiting for this.

“Right.” She said promptly. In a smooth jump, she was back on her feet, though legs bent slightly. “Knock ya around until you’re good to talk, just holler when that is.” And in a flash, she was gone. One moment Mel was there and the next she was gone. She leapt forward at an incredible speed, like a tiger pouncing on its prey from the bushes. She had placed herself only a few feet from Dana, a punch already being winded up. She would slam it forward, but instead of charging it with any sort of energy, it would just be a normal punch, though, as Melody had previously been a boxer, a punch was still a punch, and it was pained right for Dana’s cheek.

There wasn't much time to do it, but Dana visibly shuddered as Mel leapt back up, bounding forward in an attack. Had the vixen not been mortified at nearly killing the girl in front of her, she would've been prepared. Maybe she could've ducked the incoming punch, or opened fire again when Rabbit Punch was most vulnerable: during that dedicated lunge.

Dana was not prepared, much as she wanted to be, televised as Rabbit's warning was. No amount of excuses for her behavior would end this easily. Though the fox was stubborn and refused to show weakness, part of her was conflicted at the outset of fighting her. Well, she was conflicted. Almost cartoonishly, a small yelp escaped Dana's muzzle as Rabbit Punch belted her in the face with a professionally-thrown punch. She stumbled back to the side, buckling from the blow. By reflex she wiped the side of her mouth, part of her lip struck mid-swing.

The wet feeling on the back of her wrist confirmed it. A streak of beige in her eyes, but bright red in Mel's. Sure, her jaw was probably busted already. Much as it ached, Dana's teeth clenched and she snarled once again. At this point, it was the principle of things. Like a bull seeing a waved cape, Dana tended to lose it when she saw her own blood get spilled.

Her left hand dug for the handle of her combat knife. Her right hand pulled the trigger of her blaster a few more times. She was shooting wildly, vaguely trying to group the plasma bolts to hit the hero before her. Would be cool if any of them hit, but they were a distraction. If this bunny was fast and hit hard up-close, then trying to shoot her up-close wouldn't be easy.

The blade was cleared from a sheath by the third shot. Held in an icepick grip, Dana was prepared to see if that outfit or Mel's hide could handle a blade sharpened to a near-molecular level.

It was a darn shame that this vixen wasn’t as sharp as Mel had hoped she would be. She had left herself open on several angles, hoping that the fox would’ve taken a clear shot or two to help blow off that steam, but she couldn’t even do that. She thought maybe this fox was struggling from the pressure, but if that was the case Mel’s offer for her at the end of this encounter may not actually pan out. She would still make that offer, when the time came, but it was a shame in the meantime.

It was, however, impressive on how well the fox had taken the punch. She had expected to knock the vixen off her feet and down to her arse, but no…no she was standing after it and looked raring to go now. Maybe that’s all she really needed to get the gears going. Between the teeth and that vicious look in the fox’s eyes, something certainly was stirring. She worried, maybe, if this was the wrong plan to go with, but she wasn’t really sure what else to do at the moment. Fighting was what she knew, so fighting was what this fox would get, at least for now.

Then came more of that same disappointment, at least at first. Wild blaster fire scorched through the air, leaving glowing streaks through the air and briefly illuminating the faint shadows that clung to the walls of this warehouse. They were grouped well, though none seem particularly well aimed. Her dodges for these were casual, her reaction time impeccable for dodging projectiles. Though, she seemed lazy about it, not actually taking the strange bullets all that seriously. A few of the shots did graze the rabbit hero, though now noticeable on her body were streaks of what looked like orange crackling energy, seeming to have protected her from those powerful strikes. Sure, Melody could still feel the intense heat from them and there may be some stinging later, but from just grazes, she’d be fine with the protection she had.

Her eyes, however, still lingered on the fox as she moved in, now brandishing a knife. Mel wasn’t sure what kind of knife it was, but her dad always said that no matter how good you were with a knife, or avoiding one, either way you were gonna come out of it with some cuts. Melody’s relaxes kicked in if the blade was suddenly swung her way, kicking off to get to the side of the vixen, raising her arms defensively to cover herself. “Come on.” She taunted with a slight grin now, “Is that all the steam ya got for me?” It was a challenge, but it wasn’t all that threatening, more like a trainer trying to goad their student into an attack. As she moved, still holding out in that defensive position she would throw a quick jab with right, then followed with another with her left, a quick one-two. The shots, however, were aimed for each shoulder, trying to push the fox back a bit and give herself more room to dodge from the knife, maybe even slow down a strike if it came her way.

In a standard brawl of equal skill, rage could often be the deciding factor of a fight. This is especially true if both combatants didn't know how to really fight. But this was no schoolyard or bar fight between untrained brawlers.

The Apocalypse Fox had no idea how Rabbit Punch was trained, but she could tell at an instant that the punch was professionally thrown. Seeing the energy bolts diffuse and spatter away from the hero's body was one thing. Seeing her dodge the energy with a speed and grace that Dana knew well herself was another. Well, maybe grace wasn't the right word for it. Mel seemed bored as she swerved around direct hits, despite how damned fast she did.

Whatever that cackling energy was, it meant so much as a graze didn't seem to faze her. Had it been a normal person, parts of them would've been burned away and dripping into goo. In a way the hero's energetic aura, invisible up into now, reminded Dana of force fields and special armor she'd only heard of back home. She had no idea if how her Earth's Germany faired, but their Geist Armor must've been a terror to behold for anyone with a laser.

Either way, a subsonic energy attack wouldn't work on Mel. Nor would raw aggression. Onto plan B.

The realization of the situation was delayed in the fox's head, and didn't quite click until Mel skirted to the side of a reversed-edge cut. Turns out, neither girl was normal. If Dana relied on the same aggression that could lay waste to a gang of raiders, she'd be lucky to survive this fight. Or to not spend the rest of her life behind bars, which seemed a much worse fate that death. Time to get clever, Dana Marie.

That's when Dana dropped her blaster from her right hand, the knife clenched tighter in her left. She knew her weapon was built and maintained enough to not go off when dropped. As Mel's first jab whizzed toward her, that's when Dana swerved her upper body right to dodge. The blow aimed for her left slipped by, and turning her body she attempted something of an uppercut with the knife.

But she wasn't aiming for Mel's body; she tried to gash her knuckles. The slice was aimed for the rabbit's second jab. Depending on how much force Mel could exert, Dana could either maintain her grip or the knife would slip free. Regardless of what happened to her blade, Dana's intent was to throw a hook toward Mel's face. She hoped the cut fingers would be a painful distraction enough to start countering.

Melody let out a small a huff of disapproval as the fox fighter didn’t even seem to react to her comment. Maybe the fox was still too feral? Or maybe there was no chance in actually reasoning with her. She really didn’t want to have to take her in, but at this point options were running ever more thin and if it went on, eventually, she would come out of this with an injury or two, which, of course, she wanted to avoid.

…mainly for keeping her pride undamaged.

Still, Melody couldn’t help but be impressed by the fox and the tenacity she fought with. There was a difference in power, sure, but even still she was going pretty hard into the fight. If she had known about Mel’s weaknesses, as well, she may actually have a damn good chance of winning this. The fox still might come out of this on top, especially with how Mel was trying to handle this. Diplomacy still wasn’t her forte. That certainly would hurt her pride.

Even still, Melody could see something spark in the girl’s eyes as it seemed as though a plan had come to mind. The blaster dropped, much to Melody’s surprise and a bit to her thanks…despite being deflected, if that assault had continued, with the power they put off, that would’ve gotten through the shield eventually. What didn’t escape Mel’s gaze was that knife…painfully sharp, something the shielding could take, but it was still dampened from the blaster shots and she hadn’t really done any energy management in this fight. Some regret about that…definitely.

The fox followed with an impressive dodge, one that got Mel to let out a quick, but sharp impressed whistle. Thankfully, Mel had caught that uppercut, not literally, but she saw it coming and could dodge from that from that strike which…which didn’t mean anything well for the Fox…that was a kill shot if Mel didn’t have that barrier or the skills to dodge it. In that moment of her focus going, she felt a new sensation, a pain in her fist as the knife did manage to cut it, catching her off guard. Still, the force of the now empowered and slightly crackling punch would be more than enough to send the knife a good few feet from the fox. Before Mel could even react to that, she felt a fist come to her cheek.

She had seen this one coming and…in a normal fight she may have been able to doge or at least have her shield cover it, but no. She let it through and the fox would feel her cheek against, just flesh. Through it, Mel would try and push her face against it so she could make direct eye contact with the fox, giving her the first serious look she did all night. There was something else there, a fierceness that wasn’t there before, something…angry? Or…disappointed.

Slowly, Mel ducked out of the way, and took a step back, dropping her stance. “What are ya doing?” She asked dully, “Honestly, what the hell are ya doing?” She shook her head, “Ya got skill, ya got good intentions, and ya got a whole lot of guts…are ya…” She brought a hand to her head, a motion of irritation. “Someone offers to talk to ya, to work things out and ya just…attack ‘em? I wanna believe ya had some good motives before and things just went south, but…come on. You're a lot better than just...attacking heroes in dank, abandoned buildings, yeah? You ready to talk yet?”

With a yowl, Dana drew her bony fingers back when Mel's charged punch flung the blade from her grasp. The strike gave a nasty abrasion across her palm from the knife handle's paracord wrap as it clattered somewhere far behind her. Maybe her punch was a little meaner in retaliation.

But as bright as her anger glowered, Dana had a dim understanding what was going on around her. She knew there was a brush burn across her hand; it barely registered. She could see Mel's expression change; being an animal, she was good at reading body language and subtle emotional cues.

To the fox's surprise, Rabbit Punch drew back. She tensed to roll with another punch, but it never came. Dana's blaster was still on the ground, still humming in their ears. It was just a step away from the fox, and she could easily pick it up. But the bigger surprise came when her adversary started talking, not bothering to get back in a boxing stance.

Was this another trick? This bunny clearly could've outlasted her longer than this. A few good hits would've dropped Dana, healing factor notwithstanding. Rabbit Punch was well-named; Dana may have been bloodied up time and time again but she knew she couldn't last. If she was grabbed, all she could hope was to wiggle or bite her way from the woman's hold.

It was then that Dana could smell Mel's blood. She saw the beige dribbling from the cut across her hand with those colorblind eyes of hers. It occurred to Dana that her bony knuckles connected without consequence. No surge of energy to repel her punch, nor to shock her as punishment.

As if the madness was suddenly lifted from her, Dana stood and listened. This hero stopped fighting. She left the altercation at the killer's mercy.

Dana took a step forward, playing a paw-like foot onto her energy weapon. She kicked it diagonally past Mel, out of both girls' reach but further from herself.

"Am I?" she growled. "Am I really? I think we both know the answer. No, I'm not better than that. But here we are. I know y'won't believe me, but listen anyway. Where I come from, life is cheap and morals are few n' far between. We don't arrest; we kill. Wasteland justice, right? I don't think this world is gonna miss that broad's abusive client. But they'd sure as hell miss you."

Turning around slowly, Dana put her hands to the side and lowered her head. Her voice was still angry, but something changed. Her words didn't come out as loud as her hateful shouts before. "So go on and be the hero. Do me a favor before y'go. Pick my piece off the ground and end this. Y'won't even need to see my face. I've suffered long enough. I can't even get home. Not that it matters; there's jack shit to go back to and I can't stop the fucker who sent me here."

Her fingers curled, balling into fists before trying to loosen them. She shuddered, failing to keep her voice from cracking. "But don't be a bitch and hand me over t'rot in a cell. Just... just end this nonsense."

Melody waved her hand, grimacing at the pain as the knife flew through the air and away from the pair. That felt far from good on the knuckles and Mel was sure there’d be bruising come morning, maybe even a bit before then. Regardless, it seems like the move had won the fight.

Though, those words didn’t seem right in her head.

It didn’t seem like a win. Not with how this girl was acting. Wins were supposed to feel good, like ya accomplished something, but in this fight this fox girl only seemed to go further down whatever hole she had dug herself in. Heroes were, after all, supposed to lift people up, not shove them down even deeper. That didn’t feel good…that didn’t feel like she was a hero at all.

As Dana went on, Melody was making herself busy, wrapping her fist up with a bandage and idly nodding to what the fox had to say. It wasn’t what she had expected from this woman, but…but…maybe this wasn’t over. The fight was, but maybe saving this fox wasn’t over. There was still one last thing Melody could try. It wasn’t something she felt terribly comfortable with it, but that, thankfully, didn’t touch her expression as she turned her head back to look at the fox.

Melody held up her bandaged hand. “Yep, really.” She said this very casually. “First off, to further prove that, I do more or less believe ya cause not many folk on this side of whatever it is your talking about could cut me with a knife.” She thought for a moment, “Not unless it was magic? I hate magic…” She corrected herself. She turned on her heels and moved over to the gun, looking down at it. “Plus this thing is really cool. Don’t got much like this on our side either.” She turned back on her heels to smile at Dana.

“There’s probably a whole lot I don’t know about your world, but…” She quickly leaned down and scooped up the gun, twirling it in her hand as she did. “I know my world and I know me. It sounds like you’re a real fish out of water and did what you thought was best, trying to help that woman, trying to take a scumbag off the street, trying to do…maybe, the right thing? Or maybe inadvertently doing it.” She stopped twirling and then looked down the sight around the room, just appreciating the cool toy she got.

“Either way, I don't wannaleave ya alone, but don’t wanna throw ya in a cell either. Sooooo….” She trailed off, starting back towards Dana, going back to twirling gun, honestly with quite some skill, as if it was old practiced trick. “I wanna make ya a different offer. Ya got skill, both with knife, and gun, and wit! Those were some clever tactics. I also think ya got a decent heart in there, even if ya don’t believe it….” She turned the gun and held out the handle to Dana. “Ya could join me. An apprentice, sidekick, trainee, whatever yaw anna call it! Could call it community service too, use it as an excuse not to throw ya in a cell.”

Melody gave a nod at this. “At least for a bit, see if you like it, see if you actually wanna do that. If not, I ain’t gonna force ya. Buuuuut…” Melody stuck her tongue and winked, “I could also introduce you to a cute owl boy too.” She straightened and snickered at that, “But either way, what happens next is up to you. I think I can trust ya to do at least…some good from now, knowing that killing will get people like me after you, but…I’d honestly love if you’d team up with me for a bit, but hey…do what you think is best.” This last part, those last words, all of it sounded from the heart. These weren’t just words to Melody.