Façade


"Do you want to explain how you got into this situation, or should I just step back and watch the show?"

I don't know who it was that suddenly decided they wanted a farm of Prowlers, but I was sure I wanted to carve my thanks very clearly into their hide.

Even through his face-obscuring body-armor, I could sense Strife's all-encompassing exasperation with me. "I didn't get into this situation!" I half-whined, half-growled in exertion as I spun a slash at another brave, ground-crawling demon. I wasn't as proficient with my scythes as, say, Death— And while he hadn't trained me with Amphisbaena as often as we would have liked, he wouldn't have let me walk away with them if he didn't believe me proficient enough. …maybe. "It found me, surrounded me, and is now trying to eat me. Care to lend a hand?" That same Prowler leapt at me again, and I angrily jammed the tip of one of the weapons into its skull.

Strife scoffed. "It looks as if you're handling it well enough." He lazily lifted a hand in farewell and turned to walk away, posture completely relaxed.

I tried not to snarl at his back, but returned my attention to my 'situation' anyway. It wasn't his obligation to help me, so I couldn't blame him for leaving. That, and this much of a demon presence still in the Forge Lands must mean an ambush of some kind. Not exactly what I'd want the White Rider getting involved in.

And it wasn't something I couldn't handle, as he said. A score or so of vicious, clawing beasts should be nothing, right? Just swing fast enough, and they can't come close.

That theory almost worked, actually. Amphisbaena was very aerodynamic in any of its forms, be it dual-headed, dual-handed, or just single-headed. I could catch five or six of them in one go, if I was lucky. But they kept up their tightening circle, moving too fast for me to catch many in one wholesale swipe, and even then the blades just grazed them.

There was a slight up-side to their increased proximity, however. I was able to see the beasts more clearly, and when I saw something resembling a Goetic seal on each of their heads, I was able to truly understand what was going on.

I couldn't afford to be careless now— I put a little bit of frenzy into my attacks, making more attempts to create a gap at the expense of accuracy.

Then, I heard a bang, and then another. Wondering if my new weapons suddenly started shooting projectiles I didn't know about, I looked from them to the creatures falling one-by one in a fairly dumb fashion.

"This is getting sickening." Or not— Strife strode forth, Redemption in one hand and Mercy in the other, pulling the triggers with a savage jerk of each arm. Suddenly, there was a path opened straight to him. He motioned to himself with the barrel of Mercy, but I'd already trekked my way over the dead bodies and started over to him.

Then the normally-unsociable Rider pushed me behind him, causing me to yelp and grab his arm so I wouldn't fall over.

The air was pierced by the sounds of his bullets until there was none but one left, on its belly and trying to crawl forward. Strife huffed sourly, stalked over to it, put a boot to its back and pinned it down. He stooped to peer at the mark on its head, before pushing straight almost roughly.

"Samael." The Rider's voice lowered menacingly, and he lowered Redemption's muzzle to the Prowler's head, hovering right over that sigil. "You should know better. Hands. Off."

The trigger was pulled, and I needed to remind myself that this was Strife that came to my rescue, but even the resounding of the shot didn't make it sink in. "…? 'Hands off'?" I uttered uncomprehendingly.

With a disdainful scoff at the corpse, he holstered both of his weapons and turned to me. Of course, he completely ignored what I said. "Let's go. We can't stick around here, and we need to get you somewhere more defensible."

I sighed and followed along, glancing at the side of his head grumpily every now and then. I couldn't see his face, but he seemed to be… Brooding? I thought for a moment, carefully, before saying anything. "I never thought the White Rider would be a white knight in disguise." Goad him into letting out about it was all I could think of, to be honest. Everything was too dangerous to remain uninformed about something just because he wanted to be tight-lipped about it.

"And I never thought War's left arm would be in need of so much rescuing, once it was detached from him."

I flinched, stung— The backlash of it was clear, so I pressed my lips together and just quietly kept following him up the hill. I don't think he meant it like that, but being likened to nothing but a byproduct was… It hurt.

I wrung my hands along the handles of my weapons, and the resulting hiss was made almost in comfort, the serpentine glow filling their etchings for an ephemeral moment. Smiling, I turned my head forward again, just to nearly walk straight into Strife's folded arms. I stopped short and blinked up at him, smile falling away to be replaced by curiosity.

He exhaled. "It was just Samael trying to toy with us." He stated this frankly, the black depths of his mask unreadable. "Evidently, you had left a bigger impression than first imagined."

I stared at him, unblinking this time. "He was trying to toy with us by ripping me to pieces?" I asked bluntly, and his arms fell away from each other.

Strife angled his head forward a little, as if trying to stress something. "I don't know what his exact motives are. But if he truly wanted you ripped to pieces, he would have known better than to send a handful of Prowlers. Or even a Stalker. As I said, he should have known better."

…Was that a mention of faith in my abilities, or was it about knowing that he wouldn't have let Samael get away with it…? A wide smile sprang up, and I started walking again, this time ahead of him. I hummed merrily at him over my shoulder. "Is it that Samael should have known better, or you should have known better? Hmm, white knight?" It was a teasing poke, a prod, letting him know that his verbal obstinacy was forgiven.

I heard him scowl and begin storming after me. It was a specific sound that was more of a feeling, but I'd like to think I hear it instead.

What I actually heard, though, belied the wry amusement he hid behind that armor.

"As the damsel, you should already know the answer to that."