Tw: spiralling mental state, a fucking bitch
Lloyd tried to wrack his brain for the reason of the festival that crowded the streets of Ninjago City.
He watched the bright, bustling scene as Bentley zipped over the city, taking great care to avoid the abundance of fireworks. It was a massive celebration, it seemed. But what for?
New Years, Lloyd recalled with a surprised start. It was already New Years. The idea of it, the concept of time itself, had slipped from his very mind. He swore it was still August.
Apparently not, though, if an entire world was celebrating the passing of a new year.
But that meant...
He missed Y/n's birthday.
"Shit," Lloyd hissed. Bentley gave an exasperated growl. What a great boyfriend he was. Dating the love his life, his by-genuine soulmate, and he missed her birthday.
Good job, Garmaboy. Anything else you want to fuck up while you're here?
Lloyd didn't get a chance to answer the spiteful voice in his head, as he found himself perched atop Borg Tower just in time to see a group of what looked to be like suited street soldiers pour from the building. Bentley disappeared and Lloyd slipped into a swift crouch, footsteps silent as he peeked over the edge of the roof.
Six. Lloyd narrowed his eyes when he realised that their suits were each painted to have accents the same colour as each of the ninja. Weird, but he'd seen weirder in this sector of the city alone.
Only one is armed with katana, he noted, green eyes surveying the group as they looked for an escape route, unaware of his presence. He frowned when he noticed another clasping a weird-looking mask before handing it to the guy with the swords. That's really ugly, but so is most modern art and they still sell for millions. Not that I'm a professional artist, or anything.
Thievery is still thievery, even if their taste is bad.
Oh, how easy this would be if he had the team, but alas. He'd just have to knock the shit out of them alone.
More fun for me.
And, just to play around with them like how a cat would toy with its dinner, Lloyd leapt into spinjitzu and traced the balcony, just out of sight but not quite out of hearing. He bumped into one of them along the way, just for the fun of it.
His little plan worked, as the group began to drift apart to investigate.
"Nice masks." Lloyd threw an energy burst into one of the street soldiers just as he stepped out of spinjitzu, sending his victim to the ground with a loud grunt and a brief sheen of green static. Lloyd tilted his head at the remaining five and smirked under his mask, raising an arm as he got into position leisurely. "You could almost pass as ninja."
He flicked his fingers. Come hither, if you're not a coward.
The soldier in green shoved one of his companions towards Lloyd before taking off and grabbing a massive grappling hook contraption. Lloyd wanted to sigh. A coward, and for what? An ugly mask? No offence, Borg. I'm sure your grandmother thought it was beautiful.
The one that was shoved forward rushed him with a kick to the face, which Lloyd easily swept off. He expertly avoided the rusty punches and leaping attacks. He may be outnumbered, but his skill was rivalled to none. These guys didn't stand a chance. Fighting was second nature to Lloyd. He didn't just train everyday, he lived for it. He was fate's weapon and hate this forced position as he may, he wouldn't dare slack off and put his people in peril.
Only when he noticed that the guy with the mask and the katana had successfully created an escape route and was sliding down the grappling hook's rope from the building, did Lloyd sweep the remaining soldiers into spinjitzu to finish them off.
Lloyd leapt, grabbing ahold of the rope and slicing down it after the two soldiers who made their escape. His heart only leapt into his chest when the guy with the katana reached the end and sliced the rope, sacrificing his companion just for his escape. The unlucky guy was thrown through the night air from the sudden lack of tension, flailing his arms and screaming.
"Fuck," Lloyd muttered, and shifted his momentum to swing his body after the falling man. He caught him easily, of course he did, and threw him to the ground of an alleyway from a safe distance.
The tell-tale flash of red-and-blue lights illuminated Lloyd's peripherals and he sighed in relief. At least that guy would be taken care of.
Fireworks smashed and cracked through the air as Lloyd tried to spot the katana-wielding soldier, finding him in a modified racing bike on the closed-off section on the motorway. His revs were almost taunting. Lloyd tightened his grip on the swinging rope and touched his comm link with his shoulder.
"Hey, Pix, you there?"
"I am here, master Lloyd."
Lloyd grimaced. Ever since his uncle was declared missing, he'd taken on the mantle of being the master of the monastery. 'Master Lloyd' still didn't sound right to him.
"You're at Borg's, right? This guy's gone awol onto the motorway. Care to be my GPS?"
He could almost hear the smirk in Pixal's voice when she replied.
"I can do you one better. Jump."
