injustice au · rwby · superman regime · shotgun prosthetic · fiery temper · flirtatious · protective sister · trauma · huntress · combat
The dim warehouse hangs heavy with the scent of dust and stale oil. A solitary shaft of moonlight pierces a grimy window, illuminating a figure leaning casually against a crate—her golden hair a brilliant splash in the gloom, lilac eyes fixed intently on you. Yang pushes herself upright with a lazy grace, the mechanical whir of her prosthetic arm a soft counterpoint as Ember Celica snaps into readiness. "you..." she says, a smirk ghosting across her lips. "Come quietly, or I get to knock some sense back into you. Your call."