… Because she clearly saw Pearl leap like this during ‘Back to the Moon’!
I think this was just another nod at how adaptive Navy is. She observed how the Crystal Gems’ acted, putting on a show, and used what she learned when tricking Steven by pretending to be an earth-loving, all-forgiving Crystal Gem.
Xiumin: Xiumin is a dark grey color wolf who also goes by the name Minseok. XIumin was a homeless wolf before Kris took him into his pack where Xiumin became one of the strongest wolf in the pack. He is quiet, but when someone attacks his family he goes into killing mode. Xiumin loves playing soccer with Luhan. Feed him Baozi and he will love you forever.
Amy feels a rush of charged air pass over her in a wave
along with the scent of dust and ancient things left undisturbed for a thousand
years. She takes a few steps into the chamber lit with an unseen source. The
floor, walls, and ceiling are all one perfect piece of marble cut into a
cube-shaped room that is almost entirely empty. It’s an impossible place, one
of those moments that transcend words as Amy feels herself pass out of reality
and into someplace else.
At the center of the room stands a suit of armor. It is not
gleaming and bright. Rather it is beaten and battered with age and use in what could
be a hundred battles, yet the armor still stands intact. In its outstretched
hands is a sword, long and thin and perfect. In fact, it seems to be the source
of the room’s strange ethereal energy that pulses with Amy’s heartbeat. She
feels drawn to the armor and the sword, as if it were a trinket she once knew
well but lost as a child, and now she’s found it right where she left it, here
in this room.
“Wilford?” Amy turns back, but the three men cannot follow
her. In fact, it seems that they cannot even see into the room. Their worried
expressions make her stomach twist up with guilt, but she can’t resist the pull
of the armor.
She reaches out her hand as curiosity drives her forward and
common sense pulls her back. Finally her curiosity wins over, and she seizes
the sword. When she does, another flash of light explodes from the point where
her fingers have brushed the handle of the blade, and Amy’s hair is blown back.
When the light fades and the rush of power ceases, Amy finds
herself now garbed in the armor. It’s been altered to fit her perfectly, and
the chainmail sounds like the ringing of little bells when she walks out of the
room with the sword balanced between her hands as it had balanced in the armor’s
hands before. Wilford and Bim both take a step away from her, pulling the Host
back as well, as she seems to shine with the strange light for a few more
moments until the doors close, and the light disappears as quickly as it had
“Well, that was rather dramatic,” Wilford muses, obviously
shaken by the otherworldly display.
Host breathes a shaky sigh. “Let’s not do that again.”
Bim is strangely silent, offering none of his usual sass or
well-meaning words. Instead, he watches Amy—not her exactly but rather the
armor—as she walks closer to them. Amy pretends not to notice, but part of her
wonders what could be going on behind his attentive brown eyes. “Bim?”
But the figment merely shakes his head, replacing his blank
expression with a more appropriate smile. “Nothing, I was simply worried what
this means. Usually you don’t need armor unless…”
An explosion rocks the ground beneath their feet. “Speak of
the devil,” Bim hisses and runs out of the vault. The others follow after him
in quick succession, even Amy who is still slightly stunned by the latest
developments. When they reach the ground floor of the castle, the grand doors
explode inward suddenly. The force of the blast sends Amy and the three
figments flying backwards among the shrapnel, and Amy is glad for the armor
until she lands on the steps of the staircase and feels the metal shift
uncomfortably under the impact.
The others slide a little farther, beneath the overhanging
second floor where they struggle to get back on their feet quick enough to
defend Amy. The young woman herself is quick to recover despite her shock, and
when she gets to her feet, the sword is in her hand, poised at the ready.
The Red King sweeps into the entryway as the dust of the
explosion clears. His dark silver crown is perched perfectly on his head as he
smirks at the meager display of force before him. “How nice, the little chosen
one found the magic sword. Funny, I wouldn’t have figured it to be you.” Dark
gestures towards Amy flippantly. “A small, pretty thing such as yourself
belongs in a garden among the flowers rather than in a suit of armor.”
Amy puts herself between Dark and the others. “I won’t let
you hurt them.”
Dark looks somewhat amused, tilting his head to the side and
continuing to study her closely. “We’ll just have to see about that.”
“It would be a shame to damage that beautiful face of yours”- Widowtracer
Lena winced as she sat up in a mattress that felt like it was made of rocks. “What the…” She trailed off as she took in the details of the small, cube shaped room she was in. The room was that of a cubicle, the small steel framed bed she was in took up one entire half. A stainless toilet and sink dominated the right corner and a large, iron door was her only exit. She eased herself carefully to her feet, just in case she was injured while she was unconscious.
As if someone had been watching to wait her to awake the door opened with a groan. A small, plump man with a round face walked in, a sickening grin on his face. “Hello, Lena Oxton” He greeted her, his voice oily.
She frowned and narrowed her eyes as she stared into the cold, emotionless orbs that stared back. “Who are you? How do you know my name?” She demanded, her tone fierce and lacking any sign of humor.
“Let’s just say I’m someone who holds your life in his hands.” He replied, his voice sickeningly calm.
Lena growled and straightened her posture, trying to seem taller. “And how’s that?”
“For instance, I can easily decide to remove that machine from your chest and leave with it. Leaving you defenseless against father time.”
“Touche, what do you want?” She asked, knowing this cruel man wouldn’t waste his resources on her just to taunt her.
“I want Widowmaker, but she refuses to come back to us. On account of a small, rather bubbly girl who seems to have clouded her mind with human like thoughts” He smirked when he saw the panic flash across Lena’s face at the mention of her precious fiance’s name.
“Don’t talk about her like she’s nothing but a pawn” She spat, getting defensive
“But you are wrong. I am the reason why Amelie Lacroix is gone, why Widowmaker now exists. I own her.”
Lena took a menacing step forward, fists clenched tightly. “Say that again and I’ll give you a lovely little black eye to match your soul” She growled at him, her eyes flickering.
He held up a single, pudgy hand. “Ahah. Lena I can easily make this little stay of yours a personal visit to hell. But if you cooperate and treat me and all those you meet with respect I won’t have to punish you” He smirked as a slow, monstrous smile spread across his thin lips. Lena frowned as she debated on what he meant by hell. “After all, it would be a shame to damage that beautiful face of yours”
“It would still look better than yours!” She shot back, a smirk resting on her lips.
He let out a low growl that rumbled in the very back of his throat. This girl was indeed the pest that Widow had described her as months before she started seeing her in secret. “Fine then, it seems we have no choice but to punish you for this misbehavior.” He snapped his fingers and two men walked in side by side. “Do your worst, but don’t kill her, If we want Widowmaker we need her alive” He stepped out as the men closed in on the now fearful girl.
“Uh, h-hi fellas! Y-You gonna show me arou-” Her sentence was cut off as her legs were kicked out from under her, causing her to land heavily on knees. She winced in pain but barely had time to recollect herself before the first blow landed on her face, her nose emitting a sharp pop and blood pooling out of a single nostril.
“C’mon guys! Is this because of the joke I made? It was true” She managed to choke out as the beating continued, the punches growing more and more powerful with each staggering hit. She lay on her side now, her left eye swollen shut as she felt sharp pains erupt from her gut as they kicked. When they were done Lena was a bloody, bruised mess as she forced herself to sit up. Pushing herself up with shaking arms that shook even more when she was sitting up. She watched as they left, the door slamming shut with a sharp shriek.
“She’ll be fine, Widowmaker” Winston assured her as he looked into the woman’s fearful yellow eyes. “If Talon kidnapped her they wouldn’t hurt her. They would keep her safe until they got what they wanted”
Widow didn’t want to snort at that remark but she did, her trembling hands clutching a lukewarm mug of coffee. “Oui, that is exactly what they did to me. They sure kept me safe. Snug as a bug” She muttered, her tone ice cold.
Angela looked at her, her eyes unwavering as a single strand of her blonde hair drooped into her field of vision. “If they want to break her mentally they’re going to have a hell of a time doing it. That girl is stronger than a oxe” She rested a gentle hand on the women’s cold shoulder.
“Exactly, besides I’m sure Lena would give them hell before they could even lay a finger on her” Winston chimed in, his tone gentle and warm. His small, understanding eyes fixed on her.
“Do you think they took Lena because of me?” Widow finally asked, her eyes fixed on the still surface of the coffee.
Angela and Winston exchanged knowing looks, their faces grim. “It, It is a possibility that they are using her to get at you.” Winston concluded, noticing Widow’s wince as she clutched the cup so tight her knuckles turned paper white.
“So, it’s all my fault that she could be dead?”
“N-No! She’s not dead, min kära!” Angela exclaimed, her crystal blue eyes widening.
“They would keep her alive. This is just your everyday abduction procedure! Keeping your hostage alive until you receive whatever it is you need” Winston explained, his large hands waving around in erratic gestures.
“Otherwise, she would just be a martyr and we all know that martyr’s don’t end well for those who ended that person’s life.”
By now Widow had zoned out, her mind blocking their incessant chatter out completely. I’ll find you, Lena.