Brisa Gan hung in the air about a centimeter and a half away from Catlin and a half centimeter off the ground. She was a little less than five centimeters tall. Her skin was fairly well kept, sky blue with large red patches. She wore the nearly formal attired of a news reporter but looked somewhat out of place in them; she was way too young.
Faint hints of black flame escaped from Catlin’s red in black eyes as she stared at the very scared young lady. Brisa had no intention of being this close to them, especially like this. She was completely at a loss. Realizing this, Catlin’s demeanor changed from the angry killer to a falsely sympathetic inquisitor.
A faint smile crossed her lips. She noticed Brisa’s bowtie was not correctly tied. Maybe it went out of place during the unexpected, split-second trip. Either that or she didn’t know how to tie one.
Catlin spoke slowly and calmly as she started. “So, Brisa Gan from the Champion’s Chronicle,” her voice was distorted. It sounded darker almost beast-like, a side effect of her Unholy Talent use. She reached out correcting Brisa’s tie, “What do you hope to accomplish by spying on us.” Catlin’s hands, still aflame, left scorch marks on the fabric.
Brisa tried to think of some way to correct her situation but nothing was coming to mind. Held within Catlin’s motion grip, she couldn’t move… anything. Every member of her body seemed to be trapped in steel. She was forced to stare back into those burning red in black eyes or seem like an obvious liar. “I…I was doing a report on the shuttle port.” She tried to sound as confident as she could. “There was an attack here the other day.”
“That’s not what this says,” Liana spoke happily as she read from Brisa’s handheld. Though she had let go of it in her surprise, it had hung in the air a millimeter away from her hand until Liana grabbed it. “You have been keeping close tabs on us since last night.”
Brisa knew she was busted, “Sorry,” Brisa’s voice went up an octave. The flames from Catlin’s hands seeped deep into her chest. She must not like being lied to. “We were interested in where Jaquan was going.” The flames started to hurt more.
“Why,” Catlin looked up at her as she asked calmly. She had finished correcting the bowtie. It looked perfect apart from the scorched fabric.
The flames left Catlin’s hands. Instead, an intense chill came upon her. Catlin’s hands, now covered in frost, froze the bowtie in place. Now Brisa’s chest was almost freezing, but she continued, “He’s scheduled to fight Orien Chuan in a month but decides to leave instead of training. We were curious.” Even after Catlin’s hands left the bowtie, the chill stung into her chest. It penetrated much deeper than the heat it had replaced.
“What I do and where I go is my business,” Jaquan countered. He walked between her and Catlin making sure she saw what he was saying, “I don’t need no reporter commenting on everything I do.” He was utterly disgusted. He worked hard for a living, endured pain both in training and in the arenas. After all he did, this kid wanted to take his life and use it to get a story. “Get lost,” he added waving her off.
Catlin released her grip and Brisa fell to the ground, strait on her butt. Neely’s empowerment aura fell as well. Liana gave Brisa’s handheld back and they started walking away from her one by one. Brisa had only just been giving this assignment. Even with her limited knowledge on reporting, she knew that she was not getting any more information from them.
Neely was the last to leave. He stood there with her and spoke as her helped her up, “If I was you, I wouldn’t follow us.” He was a stark contrast to Catlin; peaceful, calming, and sincere. This made his words stick even more. “You should write about safer places.” Brisa agreed, and he walked off to join his group.
She was left alone at the shuttle port holding her handheld in complete defeat. There was no chance she was going to get any of them to talk to her again. That was a short assignment.