Post by GoldenKitten on Jan 6, 2012 21:10:55 GMT -4
A dark haze lifted from the Sisters minds. It was the veil of sleep extracting itself from ones collective mind, but unlike a comfortable or well-rested release their mind was instantly on alert from the moment complete thoughts began solidifying. Sensing energy behind them they rolled to their left and catapulted into the air, landing firmly in an aggressive stance, a snarl etched across their face as their hands went for the blade situated firmly on their back.
However they were left posing oddly as they witnessed the utterly mundane situation before them, a half-dozen Arrancar of various sizes and sexes sat around a table playing some form of game with pebbles as playing pieces and a cup full of sand. The group was watching her but none were responding violently, perhaps this was a common reaction amongst new “inductees”? After a moment a young man, or at least what looked like a young man, with a stag-like mask held his hands up in a sort of half-calming stance without getting up from the table stating, “Hey it's OK now! I know it takes some getting used to but in these walls you don't always have to be on guard alright? That's why we all joined up right?”
Not responding the Sisters instead made a non-committal grunt as sleep left in its entirety and their eyes scanned the group and the room. Taking in the black and gold outfits of those at the table their mood quickly soured, as did a quick glance around the room. It appeared to be a barracks of some sort with multiple triple-decker beds around the edges and a community-set of tables going down the length of the long room. Walls, hanging banners, and even the beds were cloaked in the same colors of the individuals, and to the duos great fury their own body was wearing the outfit when they spared it a glance. It hadn't mattered whether it was White or Black, the Sisters had no interest in Las Noches or its sense of “community” and they're extremely non-voluntary recruitment process had turned simple indifference into hatred quickly.
Unable to hold in their growing rage but agreeing their was no purpose in making a move yet, the duo instead decided surveying their surroundings was the first priority since this was the first time since the indoctrination they had found themselves in the structure unleashed. Spotting a nearby door they made no attempt to communicate with the group at the table, even when they were called out too, simply pushing it open. Seeing a long hallway beyond the proceeded through even as warning were yelled to them.
“Hey wait! You really shouldn't go out there until our work supervisor arrives!”
“The other work supervisors look for opportunities like that!”
But they fell on deaf ears, and they soon gave up, perhaps having seen other headstrong individuals meet their fate this way, and unwilling to risk their own hides for them. Even as they threw them to the wolves the Sisters could clearly here part of the conversation that followed, though they never stopped and eventually moved out of range.
“What was her problem?”
“Eh, who knows, they're like that sometimes. If she's lucky they'll just recruit her for some work, but some of the more violent supervisors are...”, the boys voice trailed off as if not wanting to speak ill for fear of listeners in.
Then an intrusive and loud voice broke in, “Still, I'd have hit that, bitch or not!”
“You are such a pig Rururi!”, a trio of female voices called out.
And then the surprisingly normal conversation was lost to distance. Not that the Sisters were paying too much attention as it was but they needed to keep their ears open in case something of importance could be pulled from the air. Without speaking they had come to the same conclusion that they simply needed to explore for the time being. For the last three days since their capture they had been interred in a propaganda camp somewhere within the megalithic structure. The classes and lectures they had been forced into were not of the typical learning kind, but rather an assessment of their loyalties, it was apparently in place for all Hollows and Arrancar recruited against their will or through curious circumstances. Most fought the system and were killed on the spot, even those that didn't betrayed their real feelings to often and were doubtless put down behind the scenes, but the Sisters had been smart. Much as they hated every minute of it they understood the overwhelming force brought against them, and fighting the camp would have just killed them.
So they swallowed their pride, took their lumps, and passed the examination. But now they had as close to free-reign as they would likely ever receive under this order, and that meant it was time to escape while prying eyes were no longer on them. While they had certainly mulled over getting revenge from time-to-time, the simple reality was the one who had captured them was beyond their league many times over and he was just one. So bowing to the more logical option they would accept a safe escape as insult enough, plus they took some comfort in knowing a Kingdom drawing this much attention to itself could not last forever.
They knew some word had spread amongst the populace of a recruit candidate that had killed one of the “Prodigum” of the vaunted “Death” and had to be captured by the man himself, the Sisters knew little about Las Noches and less about the Horrors but had gleamed the basics over the past few days. If anyone had watched the young woman progressing down the hall at a quick but measured pace, none would guess that she was the culprit. Nor that whereas most of these weaklings owed their Arrancarism to their new leaders, the Sisters had long since grasped that form of their own volition, and were willingly crafting their own path instead of catering to anyone elses.
With long salt-and-pepper hair that was overwhelmingly of the “salt” over the “pepper” that reached to their waist it gave them an older appearance than their figure and face suggested. While overall straight it had curls at random intervals particularly around the ears. Their face and body on the otherhand were that of a young woman, maybe just slightly out of her formulative teenage years and verging on the realm of an adult. Full in body and height, but with the still rounded features that suggested youth. Her features were thin but not excessively so, and her womanly assets were similarly average being at neither extreme. Perhaps most captivating however were their Caucasian features in a world overwhelmed by souls of Orient persuasion, and the strange fire-orange eyes that always burned with an otherworldly light (a trait they would not readily explain to anyone, though they knew the reason). Their mask consisted of two cat-like whisker-shaped triangular fragments, one on each side of the face under the eyes, one fragment was deep-red, the other was black.
Naturally they wore clothes but at current they were the forced robes of the Horror Vacui administration, and of no note to themselves. As they pushed on they found the hall branching out into a wide open space, from the looks of it, it was just a crossroads. There were sets of branching stairwells leading off into similar halls as the one they had just traveled. Having passed by Las Noches a number of times in their desert travels the vast network of cavernous halls and rooms was not surprising, though it did make an expedient escape daunting.
More immediately distracting was a group of Arrancar in black and gold working on repairing several stairwells in the room. The Sisters had heard about the Shinigami invasion of course that had resulted in the Horror Vacui takeover, and the state it had left Las Noches in. However they had not been nearby at the time to see that as the outside was now repaired, this being the first sign of rebuilding speaking of a rather impressive organization scheme even if they didn't want to admit it. Fully intent on simply walking past and taking a random hallway to see if they could discern the buildings structure a bit, they'd hardly made it a dozen meters in before they were called out.
“Hey you!”, someone called out, but the Sisters only barely registered it and certainly didn't assume it was directed at them until a second call was given obviously moving in their direction filled with annoyance, “Girl with the gray hair, I called you!”
This made the duo stop if for no other reason than it was such a vulgar and crude way to address them. Not turning completely but casting an unreadable glare to the side they saw a man approaching them flanked by a skinny young boy, the fact that all the workers behind had stopped to watch his yelling, and that he had more gold than them made the Sisters come to the conclusion he was some sort of leader. Not that his outward personality or readable power levels suggested as much, but they figured it was a safe assumption given the situation.
With their attention on him he used the chance to wag his finger at her and scolded them verbally, “Damned little girl, keep your wits about you. What work force are you from? No, never mind, you're lucky I need something done and can't spare any workers or I'd beat some sense into you right now!” he reached behind him and the boy there handed a piece of paper over to him which he then held out to her, “This form needs to be delivered to Chaos-sama's department, you at least know where that is right? Well it's your job now.”, he'd barely waited a half-second before yelling, “Well take it girl!”
There was a long pause in which he grew visibly angry before they spoke, the voice that came out was an old Victorian English accent though they still spoke with modern day enunciation, “Not interested.”
This went over predictably poorly but the Sisters had not desire to do anyones work, much less a vulgar little man with no manners. Upon hearing the response the younger boys eyes went wide and he visibly backed away as the man stepped forward getting close to broaching their personal space, only just withholding violence as his hand fell to his blade and he yelled, “WHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAT?!!!”
Without returning his gaze they continued, “This is your job no? You're the ones who so love your masters whips and cowtow to their needs yes? It seems highly suspicious you would not be overly eager to do this task yourself. Besides, I've no interest in helping a filthy inbred as stated.”
Without pausing for an instant they began to walk forward, oblivious to the stares they were getting from around the room. At the last moment their eyes flickered to the side as the man reached out and grabbed their shoulder in a vice-like grip that probably would have sent someone weaker to the ground in pain. As it was they continued to stand and the man opened his mouth to begin screaming, but before he could their head turned toward him in an eerie manner, a look of pure rage etched across it, orange eyes flaming as they stared deep into his soul. “Release me now foul cur! I am not your bootlick! I have held my sister at bay long enough and you should count yourself lucky, remove your disgusting hand from me, or you will not have it tomorrow!”
In response his grip only tightened, as his other hand clearly went for his blade. But before he could even begin to tear it from its sheath he was sent reeling back. Even he didn't know what had happened for a moment, instead continuing to move forward as he drew his blade until the pain began to sink in and he saw the sight before him. The Sisters stood before him but were not calm and measured as before, and dangling from their mouth, blood dripping to the ground below was the hand which had been upon them. Releasing it, it fell from their mouth as they closed their petite maw and the appendage smacked sloppily into the hard ground. The man only witnessed the remnants of his wrist for a moment before he raised his blade and charged at her screaming, half in rage and the other half pain.
But even as the blade came down through their image it dissipated, reappearing slightly to the side instead with its right arm extended. It reached past the mans blade, wrapped around his throat, and was over in an instant as it snapped cleanly. There was no pause, or attempt to feel superior, it was over and his lifeless body was dropped to the ground just as promptly. Looking down in disgust they spoke and though the voice was slightly different and higher this time it bore the same accent and stylings, “Should have listened pig man.”, then in a less serious voice she spit a little and added, “Oh god, that tasted horrifying.”
They were about to turn around, ignoring the young boy who looked on in horror before turning around and running off at a scamper, when something caught their eye. Though a useless and weak leader their attacker had been sporting one strange oddity, a white shawl that stood out from all the gold and black around them. Looking down the controlling sister noted their current clothing and murmured in disgust before sticking their thumb down the shirts neckline and plunging it down, ripping it in half with little effort before pulling it off.
They were left naked from the waist-up and suddenly the sword on her back called out in a very familiar voice that sounded far more embarrassed than the face of the one in control, - Kalley! What are you doing?! I mean... What? Why? NAKKKKEEEDDD! -
Ignoring both their nakedness and the voice though they knelled down and unwrapped the shawl from the man. Dusting it out several times as if to get the stink and ugly off they then strung it around their top creating something of a white athletic bandage top made of cloth instead with a neat bow in back. Standing back to their full height and taking the sword that had fallen with the rest of the clothes while slinging it underneath the wrap in back, the body spoke, “If I must be here, then I at least refuse to wear their mark Amdria.”
This was met by a disapproving sigh from the sword. But nothing else was said as they turned around and returned to their initial business. Most of the mans followers had bolted in a hurry, but several had stayed around, obviously weighing their lives versus seeking revenge on this unexpected intruder. Not that the Sisters could understand why they would possibly feel it necessary to avenge such a loud, repulsive man. But they'd seen stranger things in their travels, and peoples “hearts” could hold on to the strangest of things, many likely considered their own opinions strange.
Perhaps it was them making a move to leave that spurred their would be attackers to make a move, or attacker in this case. Two of the men had clearly decided against it and began retreating even as the one in front made his move, rushing with blade drawn, and jumping through the air. It was such an obvious and uninspiring way to make an assault that the Sisters didn't even bother committing him to memory at all. Mid-jump their left hand was raised in his direction, orange energy formed at the tip of their pointer-finger, and a trio of bala slammed into him. It incinerated most of his outside in an instant and carried what was left into a nearby statue that crumbled, whether it was of the new leadership or the old and simply had yet to be removed the Sisters did not care.
There was a shout from behind and they looked back to see the group that had been in the room they'd woken pour in from the hall they'd just walked. The young man with antlers was at the front, looking around and yelling worriedly, “What's going on here?” The Sisters just blankly stared for a moment before turning away and sticking their hands in their pockets.
Amdria still in the sword spoke the sensible option, - It is time we were going -
Without saying a word they were in agreement, and with no sense of where to go and most of the weaklings having retreated down a different hall they decided on going straight, at least it would eliminate the chances of getting lost if nothing else. Behind them they heard the boy yell to get help as the voices disappeared down the hall they had just come. With a bounding leap they skipped the stairs and landed at the top before proceeding into the next hall. It was the same as the last and they spent the time talking to each other.
- Was that necessary? -
“You'd have done the little mans work?”
- No of course not but there was no reason to go so over the top -
Suddenly the voices locations changed, for the Sisters it was perfectly natural, but to anyone watching it would no doubt cause a moments pause.
- I fail to see the issue, we are escaping -
“We have NO IDEA when or how we'll accomplish that, you know how large this place is. The idea was scout AND THEN leave with an ORGANIZED plan.”
- Kill every bastard that gets in our way sounds like an organized plan -
“Or a fine way to get us killed, perhaps you've so soon forgotten our little duel with the oh so mighty Death?”
This produced only a growl from the sword, or rather Kalley.
But just as they were continuing on they felt a pressure fall down upon them, had they been weaker they might simply have fallen in its presence but as it was they turned to look over their shoulder in its direction. Had that lowly group of peons really gotten powerful help so quickly? It seemed unlikely but even the firebranded Kalley was mentally considering she had overreacted. While Amdria simply went on to planning how to get out of it, they couldn't afford to get into a fight here, not where backup was so readily available.
And so with their head turned Amdria tried to see if maybe they could talk their way out though they had no illusions as to that being highly probable, “It's highly impolite to stalk a cute girl.”
However they were left posing oddly as they witnessed the utterly mundane situation before them, a half-dozen Arrancar of various sizes and sexes sat around a table playing some form of game with pebbles as playing pieces and a cup full of sand. The group was watching her but none were responding violently, perhaps this was a common reaction amongst new “inductees”? After a moment a young man, or at least what looked like a young man, with a stag-like mask held his hands up in a sort of half-calming stance without getting up from the table stating, “Hey it's OK now! I know it takes some getting used to but in these walls you don't always have to be on guard alright? That's why we all joined up right?”
Not responding the Sisters instead made a non-committal grunt as sleep left in its entirety and their eyes scanned the group and the room. Taking in the black and gold outfits of those at the table their mood quickly soured, as did a quick glance around the room. It appeared to be a barracks of some sort with multiple triple-decker beds around the edges and a community-set of tables going down the length of the long room. Walls, hanging banners, and even the beds were cloaked in the same colors of the individuals, and to the duos great fury their own body was wearing the outfit when they spared it a glance. It hadn't mattered whether it was White or Black, the Sisters had no interest in Las Noches or its sense of “community” and they're extremely non-voluntary recruitment process had turned simple indifference into hatred quickly.
Unable to hold in their growing rage but agreeing their was no purpose in making a move yet, the duo instead decided surveying their surroundings was the first priority since this was the first time since the indoctrination they had found themselves in the structure unleashed. Spotting a nearby door they made no attempt to communicate with the group at the table, even when they were called out too, simply pushing it open. Seeing a long hallway beyond the proceeded through even as warning were yelled to them.
“Hey wait! You really shouldn't go out there until our work supervisor arrives!”
“The other work supervisors look for opportunities like that!”
But they fell on deaf ears, and they soon gave up, perhaps having seen other headstrong individuals meet their fate this way, and unwilling to risk their own hides for them. Even as they threw them to the wolves the Sisters could clearly here part of the conversation that followed, though they never stopped and eventually moved out of range.
“What was her problem?”
“Eh, who knows, they're like that sometimes. If she's lucky they'll just recruit her for some work, but some of the more violent supervisors are...”, the boys voice trailed off as if not wanting to speak ill for fear of listeners in.
Then an intrusive and loud voice broke in, “Still, I'd have hit that, bitch or not!”
“You are such a pig Rururi!”, a trio of female voices called out.
And then the surprisingly normal conversation was lost to distance. Not that the Sisters were paying too much attention as it was but they needed to keep their ears open in case something of importance could be pulled from the air. Without speaking they had come to the same conclusion that they simply needed to explore for the time being. For the last three days since their capture they had been interred in a propaganda camp somewhere within the megalithic structure. The classes and lectures they had been forced into were not of the typical learning kind, but rather an assessment of their loyalties, it was apparently in place for all Hollows and Arrancar recruited against their will or through curious circumstances. Most fought the system and were killed on the spot, even those that didn't betrayed their real feelings to often and were doubtless put down behind the scenes, but the Sisters had been smart. Much as they hated every minute of it they understood the overwhelming force brought against them, and fighting the camp would have just killed them.
So they swallowed their pride, took their lumps, and passed the examination. But now they had as close to free-reign as they would likely ever receive under this order, and that meant it was time to escape while prying eyes were no longer on them. While they had certainly mulled over getting revenge from time-to-time, the simple reality was the one who had captured them was beyond their league many times over and he was just one. So bowing to the more logical option they would accept a safe escape as insult enough, plus they took some comfort in knowing a Kingdom drawing this much attention to itself could not last forever.
They knew some word had spread amongst the populace of a recruit candidate that had killed one of the “Prodigum” of the vaunted “Death” and had to be captured by the man himself, the Sisters knew little about Las Noches and less about the Horrors but had gleamed the basics over the past few days. If anyone had watched the young woman progressing down the hall at a quick but measured pace, none would guess that she was the culprit. Nor that whereas most of these weaklings owed their Arrancarism to their new leaders, the Sisters had long since grasped that form of their own volition, and were willingly crafting their own path instead of catering to anyone elses.
With long salt-and-pepper hair that was overwhelmingly of the “salt” over the “pepper” that reached to their waist it gave them an older appearance than their figure and face suggested. While overall straight it had curls at random intervals particularly around the ears. Their face and body on the otherhand were that of a young woman, maybe just slightly out of her formulative teenage years and verging on the realm of an adult. Full in body and height, but with the still rounded features that suggested youth. Her features were thin but not excessively so, and her womanly assets were similarly average being at neither extreme. Perhaps most captivating however were their Caucasian features in a world overwhelmed by souls of Orient persuasion, and the strange fire-orange eyes that always burned with an otherworldly light (a trait they would not readily explain to anyone, though they knew the reason). Their mask consisted of two cat-like whisker-shaped triangular fragments, one on each side of the face under the eyes, one fragment was deep-red, the other was black.
Naturally they wore clothes but at current they were the forced robes of the Horror Vacui administration, and of no note to themselves. As they pushed on they found the hall branching out into a wide open space, from the looks of it, it was just a crossroads. There were sets of branching stairwells leading off into similar halls as the one they had just traveled. Having passed by Las Noches a number of times in their desert travels the vast network of cavernous halls and rooms was not surprising, though it did make an expedient escape daunting.
More immediately distracting was a group of Arrancar in black and gold working on repairing several stairwells in the room. The Sisters had heard about the Shinigami invasion of course that had resulted in the Horror Vacui takeover, and the state it had left Las Noches in. However they had not been nearby at the time to see that as the outside was now repaired, this being the first sign of rebuilding speaking of a rather impressive organization scheme even if they didn't want to admit it. Fully intent on simply walking past and taking a random hallway to see if they could discern the buildings structure a bit, they'd hardly made it a dozen meters in before they were called out.
“Hey you!”, someone called out, but the Sisters only barely registered it and certainly didn't assume it was directed at them until a second call was given obviously moving in their direction filled with annoyance, “Girl with the gray hair, I called you!”
This made the duo stop if for no other reason than it was such a vulgar and crude way to address them. Not turning completely but casting an unreadable glare to the side they saw a man approaching them flanked by a skinny young boy, the fact that all the workers behind had stopped to watch his yelling, and that he had more gold than them made the Sisters come to the conclusion he was some sort of leader. Not that his outward personality or readable power levels suggested as much, but they figured it was a safe assumption given the situation.
With their attention on him he used the chance to wag his finger at her and scolded them verbally, “Damned little girl, keep your wits about you. What work force are you from? No, never mind, you're lucky I need something done and can't spare any workers or I'd beat some sense into you right now!” he reached behind him and the boy there handed a piece of paper over to him which he then held out to her, “This form needs to be delivered to Chaos-sama's department, you at least know where that is right? Well it's your job now.”, he'd barely waited a half-second before yelling, “Well take it girl!”
There was a long pause in which he grew visibly angry before they spoke, the voice that came out was an old Victorian English accent though they still spoke with modern day enunciation, “Not interested.”
This went over predictably poorly but the Sisters had not desire to do anyones work, much less a vulgar little man with no manners. Upon hearing the response the younger boys eyes went wide and he visibly backed away as the man stepped forward getting close to broaching their personal space, only just withholding violence as his hand fell to his blade and he yelled, “WHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAT?!!!”
Without returning his gaze they continued, “This is your job no? You're the ones who so love your masters whips and cowtow to their needs yes? It seems highly suspicious you would not be overly eager to do this task yourself. Besides, I've no interest in helping a filthy inbred as stated.”
Without pausing for an instant they began to walk forward, oblivious to the stares they were getting from around the room. At the last moment their eyes flickered to the side as the man reached out and grabbed their shoulder in a vice-like grip that probably would have sent someone weaker to the ground in pain. As it was they continued to stand and the man opened his mouth to begin screaming, but before he could their head turned toward him in an eerie manner, a look of pure rage etched across it, orange eyes flaming as they stared deep into his soul. “Release me now foul cur! I am not your bootlick! I have held my sister at bay long enough and you should count yourself lucky, remove your disgusting hand from me, or you will not have it tomorrow!”
In response his grip only tightened, as his other hand clearly went for his blade. But before he could even begin to tear it from its sheath he was sent reeling back. Even he didn't know what had happened for a moment, instead continuing to move forward as he drew his blade until the pain began to sink in and he saw the sight before him. The Sisters stood before him but were not calm and measured as before, and dangling from their mouth, blood dripping to the ground below was the hand which had been upon them. Releasing it, it fell from their mouth as they closed their petite maw and the appendage smacked sloppily into the hard ground. The man only witnessed the remnants of his wrist for a moment before he raised his blade and charged at her screaming, half in rage and the other half pain.
But even as the blade came down through their image it dissipated, reappearing slightly to the side instead with its right arm extended. It reached past the mans blade, wrapped around his throat, and was over in an instant as it snapped cleanly. There was no pause, or attempt to feel superior, it was over and his lifeless body was dropped to the ground just as promptly. Looking down in disgust they spoke and though the voice was slightly different and higher this time it bore the same accent and stylings, “Should have listened pig man.”, then in a less serious voice she spit a little and added, “Oh god, that tasted horrifying.”
They were about to turn around, ignoring the young boy who looked on in horror before turning around and running off at a scamper, when something caught their eye. Though a useless and weak leader their attacker had been sporting one strange oddity, a white shawl that stood out from all the gold and black around them. Looking down the controlling sister noted their current clothing and murmured in disgust before sticking their thumb down the shirts neckline and plunging it down, ripping it in half with little effort before pulling it off.
They were left naked from the waist-up and suddenly the sword on her back called out in a very familiar voice that sounded far more embarrassed than the face of the one in control, - Kalley! What are you doing?! I mean... What? Why? NAKKKKEEEDDD! -
Ignoring both their nakedness and the voice though they knelled down and unwrapped the shawl from the man. Dusting it out several times as if to get the stink and ugly off they then strung it around their top creating something of a white athletic bandage top made of cloth instead with a neat bow in back. Standing back to their full height and taking the sword that had fallen with the rest of the clothes while slinging it underneath the wrap in back, the body spoke, “If I must be here, then I at least refuse to wear their mark Amdria.”
This was met by a disapproving sigh from the sword. But nothing else was said as they turned around and returned to their initial business. Most of the mans followers had bolted in a hurry, but several had stayed around, obviously weighing their lives versus seeking revenge on this unexpected intruder. Not that the Sisters could understand why they would possibly feel it necessary to avenge such a loud, repulsive man. But they'd seen stranger things in their travels, and peoples “hearts” could hold on to the strangest of things, many likely considered their own opinions strange.
Perhaps it was them making a move to leave that spurred their would be attackers to make a move, or attacker in this case. Two of the men had clearly decided against it and began retreating even as the one in front made his move, rushing with blade drawn, and jumping through the air. It was such an obvious and uninspiring way to make an assault that the Sisters didn't even bother committing him to memory at all. Mid-jump their left hand was raised in his direction, orange energy formed at the tip of their pointer-finger, and a trio of bala slammed into him. It incinerated most of his outside in an instant and carried what was left into a nearby statue that crumbled, whether it was of the new leadership or the old and simply had yet to be removed the Sisters did not care.
There was a shout from behind and they looked back to see the group that had been in the room they'd woken pour in from the hall they'd just walked. The young man with antlers was at the front, looking around and yelling worriedly, “What's going on here?” The Sisters just blankly stared for a moment before turning away and sticking their hands in their pockets.
Amdria still in the sword spoke the sensible option, - It is time we were going -
Without saying a word they were in agreement, and with no sense of where to go and most of the weaklings having retreated down a different hall they decided on going straight, at least it would eliminate the chances of getting lost if nothing else. Behind them they heard the boy yell to get help as the voices disappeared down the hall they had just come. With a bounding leap they skipped the stairs and landed at the top before proceeding into the next hall. It was the same as the last and they spent the time talking to each other.
- Was that necessary? -
“You'd have done the little mans work?”
- No of course not but there was no reason to go so over the top -
Suddenly the voices locations changed, for the Sisters it was perfectly natural, but to anyone watching it would no doubt cause a moments pause.
- I fail to see the issue, we are escaping -
“We have NO IDEA when or how we'll accomplish that, you know how large this place is. The idea was scout AND THEN leave with an ORGANIZED plan.”
- Kill every bastard that gets in our way sounds like an organized plan -
“Or a fine way to get us killed, perhaps you've so soon forgotten our little duel with the oh so mighty Death?”
This produced only a growl from the sword, or rather Kalley.
But just as they were continuing on they felt a pressure fall down upon them, had they been weaker they might simply have fallen in its presence but as it was they turned to look over their shoulder in its direction. Had that lowly group of peons really gotten powerful help so quickly? It seemed unlikely but even the firebranded Kalley was mentally considering she had overreacted. While Amdria simply went on to planning how to get out of it, they couldn't afford to get into a fight here, not where backup was so readily available.
And so with their head turned Amdria tried to see if maybe they could talk their way out though they had no illusions as to that being highly probable, “It's highly impolite to stalk a cute girl.”
