It was unlikely to work. There was, at best, only an outside chance, but it was the only chance he had. Swivelling on one foot, he reached out to Janice who was standing next to him and snatched the space age looking weapon from her, much to her surprise. Before he'd done so, he'd had no idea about its past, about its name. But as soon as he came into contact with it, it called out to him, sang to him even. Startled briefly, his professionalism meant that he was still fully focused on what needed to be done. But this was indeed a turn up for the books. In only a fraction of a second, the dagger had passed on its name and much of its history, and its... PURPOSE! In Flash, Fu-ts'ang recognised a kindred spirit, another who was stuck in a form anything but natural. Pulling back his arm, the one which grasped Fu-ts'ang firmly... the pair of them formed a bond which was hard to describe, so much information had been exchanged between them. Fu-ts'ang knew Flash's darkest secrets, and vice versa. At first Flash felt... violated. But that thought, that feeling, had disappeared before he'd even had a chance to contemplate what it meant. Panic and despair turned to hope. To camaraderie. To teamwork. Knowing it meant a lot to his friends, having watched them play their respective sports on a few occasions, he was full of awe at the spectacle of it all. He planned to join them at the first available opportunity, should one ever present itself again, but he hadn't told them yet. He was determined to though, and soon. Aiming for all he was worth, he put all his commitment, strength and willpower behind the throw, brought his arm forward, and released Fu-ts'ang on the start of his journey.
Casey looked on in disgust at the pathetic form of his former classmate, prone on the ground, his face a mask of smug contentment at the thought of what he was about to do. Taking a few steps to one side, so that his right arm was directly in line with Richie's neck, he knew he'd take great satisfaction from watching her head bounce away along the cobbles any second now. Tightening his grip on the whip, a whistling sound moving ever closer grabbed his attention. Glancing back over his left shoulder to see the unidentified human, who'd been hanging up next to Tank, tossing a mist enshrouded weapon vaguely in his direction, he let out a small chuckle, before turning back to the task at hand. Even a pathetic human could see that the throw in question was way off target, he thought. With nothing to worry about, and no one in range to thwart his deadly plan, he set about the task before him, vowing that the human and his friends would be next on his 'to do' list.
'Damn,' thought Flash, as Fu-ts'ang left his grip. His aim was off. Not by much, but it was off. In the distance, he caught sight of the dragon, turning, taking a look, and then turning back towards his unfinished business. Good. Just as he should do. All he needed to do now, was... REMEMBER!
All the time, Fu-ts'ang whistled through the air, parting it with ease, set to pass off to one side of where Richie lay, unmoving.
Racking his eidetic memory, Flash contemplated the plan that had changed on the run, much the way the best plans nearly always do. He'd intended to throw the weapon to hit the dragon, with a view to buying himself some time to get there. But as he wrestled it from Janice's sweaty hands, he knew it wouldn't work. And if he'd needed confirmation, he got it from Fu-ts'ang. Grasping his plan instantly, the weapon had worked out the flaw in it almost as quickly. Despite the dagger's power and magic, it was more than likely Casey could either get out of its path, or block it with a mantra of some kind. At the time, overwhelming despair and panic had threatened to consume him at the thought of letting down his friend. But Fu-ts'ang had other ideas. With their bond formed, the weapon showed him a glimpse of his past training, performed a long time ago. In it, Flash recognised himself, albeit younger, using his mind to control deadly looking laminium boomerangs across some kind of obstacle course. At the time, it looked ominously like the future of weaponry, supposedly. But like many of these things, the inventions had fallen by the wayside, outmoded, outdated, inaccurate, dangerous and well... just useless. But in showing him this picture of his past, Flash was sure Fu-ts'ang was actually showing him how to control the flight of the futuristic weapon. All he had to do was remember. And just like the flicking of a switch... it was there. He could recall it all. It was all about the song... replicating the song. Flash had at first thought Fu-ts'ang was singing to him, and he wasn't far off. What he could actually hear was the weapon's natural sound, the sound of its very soul. We all have it: dragons, humans, animals... perhaps not inanimate objects. And absolutely not cutlery. But Fu-ts'ang was beyond special, and most certainly had a soul. And the sound of that soul was the key to controlling its movement.
Continuing on his journey, Fu-ts'ang was wary of his surroundings, and aware of how far he would miss his intended target, unless...
Flash had the answer, with the pitch of the song being the key. If he sang the song in his head, but changed the pitch, the lethal looking weapon would change direction. How much would depend entirely on how drastically the pitch was changed. But what he struggled to recall was whether he had to increase or decrease the pitch. How would that famous football manager describe it? Ahhh that's it. "Squeaky bum time." Yes, it was definitely squeaky bum time. Closing his eyes, he envisaged Fu-ts'ang's flight through the air. Nearly out of time, with the weapon not far from level with Casey and the prone Richie, it was... NOW or NEVER!
Drawing back his arm, he marvelled at just how delicious the handle of the whip felt in his hand. Ohhh, how he was enjoying this. Memories of the cocky dragon standing between him and that fool Bentwhistle during their time at the nursery ring bubbled to the surface of his consciousness. A quiet peace flooded through him, as he pushed the memories aside. One word sprang to the forefront of his mind as he brought his arm forward. "PAYBACK!"
In the biggest gamble of his, and more importantly, Richie's life, Flash replicated the song, and increased the pitch as much as he could. The result was instantaneous. Having almost reached the point of no return in its path, where it would have been level with Casey and where any change in its direction would have been too late, Fu-ts'ang shivered slightly, before whipping around almost ninety degrees to its right, burying itself deep within Casey's left ribcage. As the chill from Fu-ts'ang passed instantly from muscle to muscle within him, the surprise on the dragon's face was palpable. As the blood around the wound congealed and then froze, the deadly whip clattered to the stony ground. He tried to move, tried to fight. But it was no good. Fu-ts'ang had him in his grip. Nothing could save him now.
Flash opened his eyes to see the hilt of his... his what? Friend? That sounded stupid, even to him, but that's how the bond between them felt. Imagine him... friends with a weapon. Strangely, when he said it like that, it seemed like a perfect match. With the hilt of his friend poking out of Casey's ribcage at an odd angle, the dragon torturer was entirely frozen, by the look of things. Wasting no time, Flash sprinted off, keen to be reunited with both of his friends, one lying on the ground, the other embedded in a dragon.
Wiping away two steady streams of tears, Janice could barely believe what she'd just seen. Sure that her weapon was going to miss, she was gobsmacked when, at the very last moment, it almost turned a corner to find its mark in the evil dragon. Heart pounding, she took off after Flash, eager to make sure Richie was okay.
Hook punched the air with his fist.
"Yes!" he screamed to no one in particular. Flash's throw was the single most amazing thing he'd ever seen, and that included all the events of the last few hours. He just had to know how it was done. He also had to know how Richie was, and so with that, he trotted off after Flash and Janice, the heavy water pack bumping his back ever so slightly as he moved.