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The Streets of Umbridge Island, Monday Night

The weirdness with today's radio notes had left Cara twitchier than usual. Doubly so given the squirrels had denied responsibility even with the offered bribes of rum. Which left some idiot newbie trying to pull a something as the most likely culprit.

And someone stupid enough to try that was stupid enough to try and be out after curfew to prove a point, was stupid enough to get caught, and was likely to spill under pressure. So Cara was out patrolling for stragglers, in the hopes she was the one who ran across any such geniuses first. If the fear of Umbridge wasn't enough to make them keep their wits about them and not risk everyone's necks for meaningless pranks, maybe fear of her would.

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Of course Surreal was the type to be out after curfew to prove a point.

...that point usually being her knife in Cara's back, but she also wanted to see how Umbrige's muscle was doing after today's nonsensical radio.

In the best possible way, of course. By dropping out of a tree on her.

Cara, don't look so pleased at someone trying to stab you. You'll scare the children.

Slamming her elbow back towards Surreal, she grinned as she turned and drew an agiel. "Just, who I was hoping to see."

"Really? I'm not sure if I should feel flattered or not," Surreal quipped, knives already in both her hands. "Aren't you out past your bedtime, little loyalist?"

"I'm sure we'd both rather be in bed right now." Normally, Cara preferred to just hit first and ask questions later instead of witty wordplay, but, well, Surreal was just special like that. "But someone has to make sure disobedient children aren't where they shouldn't be."

She circled her lazily, the other agiel drawn now as well. "And you should be very flattered to receive my personal attention. Few do."

"I'd much prefer a luxurious bed," Surreal agreed dryly before darting in to slam her elbow straight up in Cara's face.

"But you know how it is, sugar. Places to go, people to get physical with."

"Those are hardly mutually exclusive options." Cara turned with the blow, letting it glance off her cheek before attempting to take advantage of Surreal's proximity to grapple her into a hold.

"You just lack imagination."

Sorry, Cara, but Surreal was going to stomp down on your instep - hard - and snap her head back to smash into yours.

"Not imagination I lack," she bit out, trying to pivot to put a knife into the side of Cara's leathers, "--just the bed."

Cara shook her head, twisting out of the path of the knife. It had taken some doing to get a set of leathers even half as good as the ones carefully stashed in her room, so trying to stick a knife in them was just plain rude, Surreal.

"I could fix that for you." Cara ducked and jabbed an agiel towards Surreal's gut. "But you'd have to promise to behave."

"I charged a lot of money for playing that game when I whored for money," Surreal spat-out. The agiel made contact - painfully - but not long enough to make her do more than snarl at Cara in defiance. She was the Sadist's Apprentice, and she did not scream.

"What makes you think I'll lick boots for free?"

"Oh, I wouldn't expect you to lick my boots," Cara promised. If she was impressed by the lack of screaming, she had an odd way of showing it. Which would be grinning savagely and following up with a kick aimed at the same spot the agiel had made contact. "Nor would I be so crass as to repay you with money."

What? The rule was against contact between men and women, and Cara was very good at following it.

The kick was going to leave a very nasty bruise and some deeply unhappy ribs, so it was only fair that Surreal vanish one blade for a split-second to pull a throwing knife and aim it at Cara's face, her own stiletto back in-hand almost as soon as the smaller blade flew from her fingers.

"All that just for a bed? I'll keep sleeping in the trash, thanks," she retorted. "Your boss might make me wear pink, and that clashes with my skin. So would wearing a leash."

Cara ducked quickly enough that the knife took out more hair than skin but still, that kind of stung a little.

"A bed would be only one of the benefits," Cara said, wiping her cheek, then examining the blood shining wetly against black leather of her gloves. "I wouldn't want to see you in pink, only the broken lackeys wear that."

She didn't say anything about the leash idea, because, hey, if Surreal was the one to bring it up she wasn't going to stop her.

"Anyone who bows their head to that power-mad witch is broken, you're just too conceited to realize it," Surreal jeered, pressing forward with a series of kicks and jabs and slashes with the blade. "Ever tried thinking for yourself?"

"There isn't a witch alive who could break a Mord'Sith," Cara hissed, taking the kicks and blocking at the blade with an agiel. It was both a fact and a point of professional pride. "The reverse isn't true."

The question was far too close to something Richard would say not to sting, deep down.

Yakko was coming the other way up the street, whistling completely innocently while wearing a miner's helmet and not really concealing a very large fish behind his back.

He stopped whistling for a second and suggested, "You didn't see anything, okay?" And then started whistling again.

"If only that were true." Cara's life would be so much easier. "I think I got your radio notes today."

It had made as much sense as anything else out of his mouth.

"If you promise not to tell anyone, you can have half the fish," Yakko said.

Not that he'd given her the notes. But what was he going to do with a whole huge fish? He might as well use it as a crazy bribe.

"You can keep it." Where had Cara's life gone wrong that she was being bribed with fish?

"If you insist!" Yakko said, going back to whistling completely innocently as he started making his way back up the street.

If she thought it would actually do any good, he'd be feeling her agiel right about now. "I do."

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The Streets of Umbridge Island, Monday Night

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