Flynn was not having a good day.

Their injuries were flaring up again. The pain had woken them up at 2 in the morning, so they hadn't gotten nearly enough sleep. Trying to think felt like swimming in acid– difficult, painful, and probably not worth whatever was on the other side. On top of that, their light sensitivity was much worse than usual; even their sunglasses didn't do much to help.

Theoretically, they could have stayed home. Oliver and Sol would have liked that. But they had so many tests today, and besides, they'd dealt with worse back when they were still training.

So perhaps you will understand why they were not in the mood to deal with Zeke.

"Hey," the blue bastard called, clapping them on the shoulder. They flinched away, pain jolting along their arm. "Aw, what's wrong? No need to be so jumpy!"

Flynn glanced over their shoulder, giving him their best shot at Hornet's death glare. "Get away from me."

Zeke's grin sharpened. "Or what?"

They took a deep breath and spun around. I don't need to fight him. Just walk awa–

A punch landed squarely between their shoulderblades. Agony blossomed on their back as they fell to their knees, disoriented. "Look at me when I talk to you," Zeke chided. "Let me tell you something, first-year. I'm sick of you walking around like you own the place."

No. I'm sick of you. Flynn activated their ability, leaping to their feet and tackling him.

He shoved them off easily, and they rolled, landing on their hands and knees. "Bold, aren't we?"

They raised their head to look up at him. Their vision was swimming, but this wasn't like their spars with Oliver or Hornet. Zeke was untrained and overconfident; they didn't need their eyes to fight him.

All they needed... was a single clear shot.

Of course, while they were thinking about this, Zeke was continuing to monologue. They tuned him out, rising to their feet again and digging their heels into the ground. They took another hit to the face, but this time, they were prepared; they merely swayed and rubbed their cheek.

Their claws lengthened, reacting to their fury. While Zeke continued to speak–did he ever shut up?–they wound up for an attack.

One. They shifted their arm into a long, serrated tentacle.

Two. Zeke noticed them moving and reached out, reading to hit them again.

Three. They lunged forward, slamming him into the ground and wrapping the tentacle around his throat.

"I told you to go away."

He opened his mouth to speak again, shifting into his defense form.

They tightened their grip and dug the barbs into his skin. They felt a quiet hum of joy as blood trickled onto the floor. "Shut up."