Bad Batch One Shots

Sister

(No romance in this short, just lots of brotherly and sister bonding time and arguments. Hope you enjoy!)

  The loud sound of the bar drowned out any possible chance to think clearly, but that was not the case for you. You simply sat at a corner of the old bar, stroking your long, black sniper rifle, feet kicked up on the table. Your long, straight, silver hair draped over your chest, your fringe nearly covering half of your face. You watched with disinterest at the scene before you; it was normal, yet disgusting. Drunkards staggered around the bar, laughing loudly and most of them trying to get a dance with the ladies up for show. You watched with piercing eyes, one arm draped over the long head-rest of the couch-like seat, the other wrapped around your black helmet. You couldn't resist lifting the corners of your mouth in a sneer of disgust as a drunk man attempted to coax a very hesitant lady into a dance. 

  The lady looked around her early twenties and was human, and wore simple civilian clothes, but the jewels around her neck and wrists suggested that she was not poor. Perhaps just another woman out for attention, though it didn't seem that way as the lady continued to politely decline the man's request. The man began to look impatient and perhaps even a little mad, and the lady shifted her weight from one foot to the other, clearly uneasy. Suddenly the man leaned forward, resting his hands on the woman's hips. The woman expressed her first sign of disgust, her face scrunching up. Still, she did not snap at him, just tried to carefully ease her way out of the man's rough grip. This only agitated the man further, and he gripped tighter all of a sudden, yelling into her face, his drunken eyes fixed hazily on her face.

  "Jus' give a man a chance!" the man yelled, his words slurred slightly.

  Deciding you'd had enough of the situation and you'd already downed a couple drinks, you got up silently and grabbed your rifle, slinging it onto your back. You tucked your helmet beneath your arm, and causally made your way over to the drunk man. The lady's eyes widened as she saw you behind the man, but the man took no notice, until you roughly grabbed his left shoulder and tugged violently, causing him to stagger around to face you. His drunken gaze seemed to light up, and a sloppy grin slipped onto his face.

  "Well ain't you a b'uty," the man chuckled, as if he'd completely forgotten about the woman before.

  I glared at him, then jerked my chin up, gesturing to the exit, my eyes momentarily meeting the frightened lady's. "Go."

  The woman didn't need to be told twice. She sprinted out, leaving the man to focus on you. "Eh, sh' wasn't worth it." Once again his eyes lit up as his gaze roamed my face. "But you, on the other hand…" He ran a hand along your armored arm, and that was your breaking point. Without hesitation you grabbed his wrist and snapped it, the snap of breaking bone being heard, even over the laughter of the bar. The man screamed, gripping his wrist. "Ya little–" You slammed the palm of your hand straight up, connecting it with the man's jaw. He let out another cry of surprise, but you weren't done. Before he could fall to the ground, you grabbed him by the collar and lifted him off the ground easily, bringing him up to your height, as you easily stood at least half a meter above him. You brung him close to your face, lips right by his ear.

  "If I ever see you here again, or pestering another woman like that, I will see to it that you never walk again," you spat silently.

  The man nodded frantically, his eyes wide with terror. You smirked, then dropped him to the ground. You walked to the exit, slipping on your helmet. You heard the man gasping, yelling threats, but you did not look back. A small smirk made it onto your face as you left the loud bar and into the quieter night.

  You leaned back in your chair, kicking your feet up onto your desk. It hadn't been that long of a walk back home, and you didn't mind the walks at night that you had. It was calm and refreshing, but at times like these, it began to get a little cold. Winter was just beginning to kick in, and you'd always had a problem with the cold. Heat was fine, just not the cold. But right now that didn't matter, as you had a steaming cup of hot chocolate in your hand and your rifle in your other, while your helmet was still tucked undeather your arm.