There was blood on the toes of Megiddo’s boots but like, don’t worry, it wasn’t hers. She paused on the edge of a roof and held her leg out experimentally, flexing her foot so the metal caught the moonlight. Her toes were stained dark, dark red, turning brown, and she thought she rather liked the look. Real life had persistent gore, just like all her favorite video games. The bloodstain would remain until she henshined down.

The lieutenant’s screams still rang in her ears if she listened closely enough.

She did not feel even the slightest bit bad for him.

She felt another presence moving nearby. Order. Mid-level, and a knight at that, so she could immediately rule out either of her favorite people, which was a pity, because the perfect accompaniment to a kill was a ********. She lowered her leg back onto the parapet, steadying herself before leaping down into the alley below. There was a squire here somewhere, and she wasn’t sure she was feeling sociable.

After all, she was covered in gore.

Megiddo brushed her fingers over her ring, quieting her footsteps and pulling the shadows around her like a cloak. You could never be sure who was out and about, and she didn’t have the patience to deal with any goody two-shoes getting torn up over her life choices tonight.

Shibrogane
The nearby knight's aspect would've confounded him had he happened upon them even five minutes earlier. Unfortunately for Megiddo, Camlann was exercising the use of his own magic. It negated her use of aspect quite neatly in the visual sense; he saw her clear as day, and through the corner of a building too. What luck, he thought. He had been looking for a suitable sacrifice. For a head to place upon his chopping block, such as it was.

He held grudges. It wasn't an attractive trait but attractive or kind had never been high on his list of things to be. For a long time his life goals were measured in birthdays and the holidays that measured the passage of time. Those memories were vague, where he had them, and bolstered by journal entries from a past self who was, in many ways, worse at forgiveness than he.

Seeing Megiddo, he remembered the fight where they had met. Nothing elegant or interesting but it had nearly killed him, would have killed him if not for luck. Had she let it go, Camlann might have elevated her to persona non grata rather than first to the noose. She had tried to kill him twice more, however. Too many times for justice. So he summoned his weapon to hand as she entered his sight, the silver scales of his gauntlet a comfortable weight in the way his shield had never been. "I see you, Megiddo," he said, waiting until she passed him to throw a punch at the back of her head.


She would have loved to punch Camlann in his dumb ******** face, but Megiddo had solemnly sworn not to fight fellow knights anymore - especially not fellow knights of Saturn. Chivalry and loyalty were bullshit, and there was something about that guy in particular who just made her want to curbie him. It would have been so easy to get the jump on him right now - but instead she bit her lip and grumbled to herself and stalked past, pleased in her invisibility.

Except. <******** the ********?

She did not really have time to react before his fist slammed into the back of her head. Megiddo staggered forward, ears ringing, flailing to find her balance. “********!” she sputtered, calling her pitcher to hand as she turned to face him. It was a low blow, the kind of hit she would have expected if she was fighting herself, maybe.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s rude to hit a lady?” she asked. Oh, she thought. She was going to kill him. She was going to kill him so hard.

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“I see no lady,” he said, spreading his hands out at his sides like who, me? Like he was innocent. But there were pieces of her violet hair in the knuckles of his gauntlet and now that he had the sight of her, he let his magic lapse. Better to save it in case he should lose her later. He’d been out hunting since his last trip to his Wonder, since that last vision with Gethin and Melany. In that dream, blood had coated his hands and a door had opened, leading deeper into the sanctum.

He needed to open that door.

Camlann adjusted the knuckles of his gauntlet. Fighting her when she could see him would be suicide. He’d never been trained for combat; he’d only been trained for infiltration. Still, he wasn’t stupid. He was a lot of things, but not stupid. So he followed her lead, stepped out of the light of the nearby lamp and into a shadow, and made an attempt to kick one of her legs out from under her.


Whatever he’d done to see through her aspect, Megiddo had no such skill - and she was kind of jealous, especially because he disappeared. “You ******** coward,” she howled, whirling around, pitcher held tight in her outstretched arm. She wanted to catch him in the jaw, but fat chance of that when she couldn’t even find him.

And then something - she could only assume it was his leg - swept her feet out from under her. “********!” she shouted as she fell, pushing her hands back to break her fall. She felt asphalt, rough against her hands - her pristine white gloves had no fight in them.

Well, ******** ‘em.

Megiddo rolled and started to get to her feet. “You ******** a*****e I am going to strangle you and turn your teeth into a necklace,” she said, gritting her teeth.

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Camlann kept moving, because there was no way he was going to stop laughing. If he was moving, at least there’d be a chance she couldn’t triangulate him. In a fight like this, where his only real advantage was that he was smarter than his opponent, that was key. “That is an excellent idea,” he said.

He threw himself into a tackle knees-first, taking her down and dropping his Aspect at the same time. Visible now, he was still grinning as he pinned her shoulders with his knees and put his hands around her throat. “Deep breath,” he said, words coming to him from somewhere inside his long-vanished memories.

His grip tightened on her throat.


Oh, ********>, thought Megiddo, and she kicked and she kicked and she kicked but - s**t??? She had not expected Camlann to be anywhere near as good in a fight as this. He’d never given a single ******** before.

She had no plans of breathing in.

“Get ********,” she said, but there was no fight left in her.

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She bucked beneath him, but at this angle he was nothing short of inexorable. Finally she stilled, and he lifted his hands, pressed two fingers to the pulse point in her throat. The silver gauntlets drew pinpricks of blood, and she didn’t move. Didn’t even twitch. Out, then, but alive.

Camlann pressed a hand to her forehead. He had to move quickly if he was to do this without someone coming for her… “I pledge my life and my loyalty to Saturn, and to Camlann. Lend me your power, so I may give you mine,” he said, each word a whisper under his breath. They disappeared.