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 Posted: Thu Sep 11, 2014 9:56 am
Megiddo both loved and hated patrolling alone. Love, because she was free to be as brutal as she liked. Hated, because she had no one to talk to, and Megiddo often thought she was at her wittiest when she was on patrol. The pitcher in her hands was a powerful weapon, but it was no companion.
As the squire turned a corner, she paused to feel out the psychic terrain ahead. She felt one lone chaotic signature, a lieutenant, and grinned to herself. It was best to kill negaversers when they were little, before they learned how to properly fight back. A lieutenant drained energy, certainly, but their weapons weren’t dangerous the way captains and generals were. Hands clenching around the neck of her pitcher, she set off.
She found the lieutenant quickly enough, a tall, red-headed man who wasn’t… doing much of anything. In fact, he seemed like he was just minding his own business and hanging out. Did lieutenants take smoke breaks? Whatever. He was Chaos and Megiddo didn’t care if she’d caught him in the act or not, she was going to fight him.
After all, she was certain he’d done something. So, pitcher raised, she sprang from the darkness, ready to strike!
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Posted: Thu Sep 11, 2014 9:57 am
He didn’t really have a plan for this evening, but he was supposed to patrol tonight, and if he didn’t show up, they’d notice something was wrong. Granted, his lack of energy to turn in would start turning heads soon… but he’d cross that river when he found it. Or whatever the saying was? He wasn’t sure.
Except his plan, which was to loiter for a while to make it look like he’d found something to drain, or do, or something, was rather interrupted by a sudden knight appearing from the shadows. They slammed into him, and he went down, hard. His porcelain bowl smacked the ground and shattered, and he thought: no, don’t get rolled onto the shards. He slapped out his hands to stop himself from going anywhere, and muttered a curse in Russian.
“What are you doing,” he demanded, trying to roll away from the remains of his weapon and throw the… girl?... off of him. “Get off me!”
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Posted: Thu Sep 11, 2014 9:58 am
God, he went down easy! Megiddo scrambled after the lieutenant, her pitcher raised, trying valiantly to fight past his flailing and get a good hit in. “What am I doing?” she crowed, hopping back, thinking maybe if she were back on her feet she’d have some better space to maneuver with. “I’m doing my job!”
Opposite of how he, apparently, had not been.
“God,” snorted Megiddo, chasing after the scrambling lieutenant and aiming a kick for his side. “Where did you learn to fight? Baby school for babies?” Most lieutenants put up more of a fight than this!
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Posted: Thu Sep 11, 2014 9:58 am
He hadn’t learned to fight, he thought, he didn’t care to. No one had actually offered to teach him--your job is to make friends and advance the cause in other ways--and there was no point to him learning to fight when he was never going to see the battlefield. He certainly did not want to die for some ancient spurned Queen--but hey, if he was going to. She kicked him in the side and the pain was familiar, so much so that rather than panicking further, he went calm and curled up to protect his vulnerable insides. Something inside grated when he inhaled, and again on the exhale. He fought the instinct to cover the back of his neck--his hands were too valuable an asset to lose--and focused instead on staying calm.
Melanite knew pain like most people knew the faces of their parents. It had been the one thing he had ardently learned, one subject where he had aced the practical and the final. All those lessons had taught him something rather important: people get unnerved when you don’t fight back. If he just waited, he could almost certainly see a gap in her defense--what defense--and get away from this alive.
“A rather different school than you, Squire,” he spat, lifting his head long enough to get the retort off.
Calm. Pain brought clarity and the clarity brought memory, and he lashed out with a kick at the Squire’s ankle. If he could get her down, maybe he could get away from her mostly intact.
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Posted: Thu Sep 11, 2014 9:59 am
Megiddo had more or less written the lieutenant off from actually fighting back, and as a result, his kick caught her by surprise. She yelped, tipping forward and tipping forward hard, dropping her pitcher in order to catch herself as she fell. “********,” said the squire, as stinging pain shot up her arms. She looked around for her pitcher - damn, it had gotten way too far away from her to just grab and turn around and hit him again.
She forced herself up onto her knees - damn, her hands hurt, they were probably scraped to hell and back - and chased after her pitcher. It had rolled, or been flung, or something, and lodged itself under a dumpster. Meggido swore at herself and flicked, vanishing it, and stood before calling it once more to hand.
Turning, she realized just how far from the lieutenant she’d gone - and that he was doing his best to put some distance between himself and her.
“Hey!” she shouted. “Hey, a*****e!” She took off after him, but didn’t get far. Searing pain shot up from her ankle, and she realized his kick had found a sweet spot. “******** ******** ******** ********,” said Megiddo. “******** ********.” She tried to hobble after him.
It was kind of stupid.
Okay.
A lot stupid.
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Posted: Thu Sep 11, 2014 9:59 am
She fell on him, which hadn’t been part of the goal, and he thought he might have physically felt something detach inside his skull, which was… not good. Not a good thing at all. But he rolled away as she pushed herself up, hauled himself to his feet with a shaking grip on the curbside. “Goodbye,” he said, a little breathlessly, as he made good on his escape.
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