Genre: First Encounter
Rating: T
Summary: Ursa runs into a problem, in the form of a competitor. OC! (BT 1 of 3, RBT 0 of 3)
The floorboards didn't creak; the Saito family was too good for that. It would cost them dearly.
Ursa stuck to just beside the walls, tiptoeing from the north end. There was no telling what was on the floor, or what trace on the carpet would incriminate her, and Ozai had taught her too well for her to make rookie mistakes. Her target was only a few doors away. The dark hallway stretched behind her, empty and cool and almost too big for the people who walked it.
No. Not empty. She was here...she and another.
She only saw her competitor in flashes of not-quite-pale-enough skin and slight sounds from their footsteps. Would they come for her? Were they here for her target? Another? Were they another line of defense? Who knew - she would have to adapt to them as she went.
Ichika crept from the south end of the ornate red-and-gold hallway, wondering just why she'd been employed to take out this particular lord on this particular night. Her client had been very specific; it had to be this lord, it had to be tonight, and she had to take this route. Her instincts whispered that the client might be part of the Royal Family, but she ignored that - she had no interest in her clients' or her targets' personal lives, unlike some of her servants. It was hard enough putting up a ladylike façade without the urge to lord secrets over everyone she bumped into on the dance floor.
Speaking of bumping into people, who was that up ahead?
She only caught glimpses of white skin and the slight sound of soft boots on wood. Another assassin? A bodyguard? Were they after the target? Someone else?
Never mind. Just focus on the target. Getting sidetracked had gotten her in enough hot spots already.
Ursa tried to keep an eye on both her mysterious companion and the door, but as her two eyes tended to try to create a single field of vision, she had to keep switching back and forth. Which was...inconvenient.
Still, she made it to the door with little action from her mysterious visitor. Her hand slipped onto the handle, pushing it down, hoping to Agni that they wouldn't interfere with her mission tonight.
Nope. Her companion slipped towards her and grabbed at the door.
Up close, Ursa could see that her companion was also female, and that she seemed to have foreigner blood. They wore nearly matching outfits: black, not too tight and not too loose, plenty of pockets for poisons and knives. It was a common getup among many who followed the assassin's path, either those who did it because it was the only position of power acceptable for a lady or those who hadn't worked up the courage to tell their families yet. Both had knives in the hands that weren't on the door. She met brown eyes, hardening her own, with a clear message:
Leave.
The woman backed off. Good. Time to finish her work.
ahaha I literally made up the OC as I was writing so have fun I guess (also this was written from like 5-11:30 pm on the last day)