Helen screamed and brought her sword down on Deneve, who deflected it, sending Helen staggering back.

Helen watched Deneve carefully, and started to circle.

"Hey, Deneve," she began, as she paced around the other claymore, looking for an opening. "Do you ever wonder what we'd be like if we weren't... like this?"

A ghost of a smile formed on Deneve's lips. "Not really."

Helen kept circling. "I think I'd be a cook," she said. "I'd be fat from eating everything I made. And," she paused to consider it. "I'd have long black hair and huge boobs."

"I can't imagine you as a normal person," Deneve replied. "You're too demented."

Helen hmped. "You'd be a cranky spinster with twenty cats."

Deneve sniffed at her, then braced as Helen darted towards her again. Helen made as if to slash at her, but feinted. This distracted Deneve just long enough to let Helen's left hand snake forwards and pinch Deneve on the ass.

Deneve swatted her away, losing her composure for a split second. "You're so cheap, Helen."

Helen grinned. She didn't get the drop on her friend all that often, and her expression suggested that she wasn't going to let Deneve forget it in a hurry. "If I was Awakened, I could've torn you a new asshole just then."

"You're cheap and vulgar. Why do I associate with you?"

"Because I'm fuckin' awesome. Now answer a question for me, or I'll pinch the other cheek as well."

Deneve lowered her sword, and sighed at Helen. "Go on, I'll humor you. What's the question?"

Helen mirrored her, lowering her own sword as well. "I've been wondering. Who would you give your black card to?" she asked.

"That's a morbid question." Deneve peered at her. "Hmmm. I need to think about it. Well. I suppose I have someone in mind, but..." She trailed off, and looked up at the sky, lost in thought.

Helen wolf-whistled to get Deneve's attention again. "Hey. Don't zone out on me. I want to know more about this girl. Is she pretty?"

Deneve blinked. "Well, I like her."

"Is she prettier than Miria?"

"Hm. Maybe."

"Is she prettier than Claire?"

"I guess." Deneve frowned over at her friend. "She's really annoying, though."

"Ahhh." Helen nodded to herself. "But, is she a good warrior? That's what truly matters, at the end of th day."

"No," Deneve replied. "...She's crap."

Helen raised her sword and, with a maniacal battle-cry, rushed towards Deneve again. Deneve neatly sidestepped at the last second, smacking Helen on the butt with the flat of her blade.