Closed Starter for @scatterose, from Wanda.
Wanda counted every single kill, and after five years in Salem’s service, her bracers were running out of room for notches. They were also feeling heavier by the day.
She moved with deadly precision, weaving in and out of the hapless enforcer’s that had moved to arrest her. Her job was meant to have been simple. Kill the smugglers who had reneged on their deal with one of Salem’s people, and by extension, Salem herself. Somewhere along the line, local law enforcement had seen a need to protect the ‘upstanding’ citizens.
The empty well inside of her howled for blood as Nicuhantë bit through the armor of one.
She’d warned them. She had. Hazel would be proud.
Frost swirled around her as she dropped the temperature, armour shattering with a sharp strike from the pommel of her weapon. As ever, she was precise, ruthless, turning off everything that wasn’t cold determination.
Movement flashed at her side and she brought her sword around in a strike. Nicuhantë bit through the mask, splitting the visor, but not wounding them. She took a step, ready to end it as their grey aura crackled, but as she brought her bracer up to finish it with a dust shot, his eyes met hers.
The emptiness inside of her howled, but her hand began to shake.
His eyes were just like his, his jaw, his hair. For a moment all she could remember was standing in the snow in Argus, and the way he looked back at her before the traitors had killed him for fighting back.
“Aaugh!” Pain exploded in her back. Her muscles contracted, arching her back, and her knees buckled with the effort to hold herself up. With a sick, wet sound, whoever was behind her withdrew the blade.
Wanda gasped, almost dropping her weapon. She turned, entirely on instinct as her blood dripped down onto icy pavement. With a few sharp strikes, she slammed the Enforcer’s head against the wall. Instead of delivering a killing blow, she let go, backing away as she tried not to sag on her left leg.
“Damn it,” she panted, reaching around to press her hand against the wound, trying to think of what the knife might have found, what organs, what trouble she was in -
The Enforcer she’d mistaken for Gray moved between her and the other with the bloody knife. For a moment, she thought about finishing the job. One look in his eyes was enough, as cold tears welled up in her eyes and her vision swam with them, liquid freezing on her lashes.
She fired a single shot at the ground, sending a wave of ice dust under their feet, tripping them up, before turning down the dark alley. If she didn’t get a lid on this, there’d be no trouble following her trail of blood.
“Damn it, damn it, damn it!”
