Thelma and Louise (Maxine)

[Qit'ria]

Vhalar 60, 718 immediately following this

Qit'ria watched as escaping civilians ran one way and soldiers ran the other. She felt a smug satisfaction as they ran past her without so much as a glance at the pure white cat. She heard sounds of violence from up the street and looked that way, moments after the specialist slipped from where he would've been seen. There was a dark haired woman cutting her way through people and running along the road toward her. Qit'ria cocked her head to the side as she watched this vicious woman fight.

She hadn't considered there might be other enemies of the Mantis.

But it was clear the woman was making a desperate and hasty escape. Another mage perhaps? Now that was interesting. She hadn't considered there to be any allies, and certainly not one that was fighting so hard. Qit had allies, but they were all cats. And Oonah, but she was the protector for now. Qit normally didn't work with other people if she could help it.

Rynmere and the Mantis were hardly a normal situation. And extreme events called for extreme compromises. Plus, Qit appreciated the ferocity this woman was displaying cutting down these soldiers. She looked in the opposite direction of the woman, saw no soldiers coming, and jumped down behind the crates, shifting back to her Sev'ryn form. She was much faster at it now, and much appreciative of that, which pleased her spark. She'd certainly let it run a lot more freely here in Rynmere.

She drew two spears from her domain bag, and stepped from her hiding place. She saw more fighting further behind the woman, but ignored it for now. Time to make herself known. She leapt forward two strides, and then jumped, twisting her body sideways, using the vault of the jump to twist her hips around an axis. As she spun, she began the throw. The additional wind up and momentum sent her javelin flying much faster than her normal throw, in a straight line shot. It pierced through the back of one soldier's neck and skewered the man in front of him in the shoulder, the pair falling in front of Maxine.

She landed one foot, and twisted upright, tossing the spear from her left hand to the right, and with another stomp forward, unleashed another throw. This own hit a man in the ribs sending him spinning into some comrades, opening the path forward for Maxine.

That's when the specialist blew his whistle, the supplement to the horn blow from earlier. This was answered by several loud roars in unison. They came from overhead, a whole flight of Jacadons, for when the horn blared, they'd been sent up to wait for their own signal. They swooped in low, not unleashing their steaming breath, for there were Rynmeren soldiers and civilians in the streets. Instead, they dropped their payloads on the flyby.

There were several loud crashes of heavy metal upon stone. All around the street Maxine and Qit were on, massive, armored beasts were standing up from where they'd landed. Except they weren't beasts at all. They were Rynmere's emergency storm troopers, contracted from Yaralon. An all Thiussum Ithecal company of heavily armored behemoths, each wielding either a shield and weapon, or two massive weapons. This company was known in the appropriate circles for their shock and awe factor, for being able to break the most disciplined ranks and take down massive beasts in the midst of proper battles. And Rynmere was paying an extremely pretty nel to keep them on retainer.

Several had landed between Maxine and those that had been fighting behind her, roaring before running toward the other companions, a few chasing after Maxine. A few landed hard on the edges of the roofs above them, spraying large chunks of stone and dust down on the street. A couple landed behind Qit as well, effectively surrounding them.

Qit no longer stopped to think. She uttered a single word to the woman she'd found. "Go!" She turned toward the pair behind her, who were sprinting toward them as well, massive walls of muscle and metal. She'd never seen anything quite so terrifying.

Now it was their turn.

She ran full bore at them, not bothering to draw a spear, for it would only hinder her. As she sprinted, she tore the magic from her soul, and plunged it into the cloak she wore. Once in there, she held it, waiting. She could feel the ground thundering and quaking as the two massive Ithecal charge at her. The one on the right wielded a hammer and a shield, and the one on the left two spiked clubs. She didn't like the size of that shield, so went for the left.

Once the gap was closed, she watched the Ithecal's shoulders closely, knowing that how the arms would move would determine her attack. She saw the biceps come up a bit, looking to be an attack from on high.

Perfect.

In the last possible moment, she dove forward, and yanked all the magic out of her cloak totem, Unleashing her bear form. She was already midstride, as she tilted her head away. Her shoulder collided hard with the Ithecal's legs, and she lifted her powerful torso up as she did. The off balanced assault sent the lizardman tumbling over the top of her, face planting into the road in front of Maxine, and Qit kept running.

Up ahead, she saw more of the lizardmen, and instinct said turn. So she did, down a somewhat narrow alley. She didn't want to Unleash again, and needed to keep moving or find a place to buy some time. She saw two doors up ahead, across the alley from one another. It was time for a gambit. She got up to the doors, and heaved heavily against one at, sending it flying off its hinges inside. An empty workshop of some sort, not that it concerned her. She then turned around, and leaned against the lock side of the other door. She broke the lockbar easily with her strength and weight, and pushed the door inward keeping it intact. She didn't look back to see if the woman had made it to her, but she slipped inside the door. She nosed it to almost shut, hoping the woman and not one of the lizards had seen her entering.

Qit'ria immediately began the transformation back to Sev'ryn. If the lizards had bought her ruse, she knew she'd have enough time. If not, well, she'd have to waste another Unleash and think on the fly. Either way, the next bit was the most crucial, for her, and likely for her companion.

[Max]

Everything had gone to shit. One bit she had been perched in a windowsill, smoking her ambrosia, and searching the crowd for Francis in hopes a mage burning drew his attention like so many others. In the next, one of her teammates had charged toward the pyre, exposing their leader as another mage in their midst, and the whole of the Mantis forces within the area had collapsed upon them. Screams of alarmed citizens filled the air along with horns calling for reinforcements. Blood spilled upon the streets in the wake of the conflict that had just begun. Between the Rupturer's portal and the Rusalka's storm clouds, the trio from Scalvoris had managed to break through the unorganized line of mage hunters to escape through the streets. The chase had firmly begun.

Choosing to take up the end, Maxine had elected to cover her allies' retreat while the Elements led. Her sword lashed out at any soldier who managed to get too close. Twice already the marked woman had utilized her Stormy Skies to disguise their movements as they fled. She used it a third time at an intersection of streets they passed to buy them time, hoping to delay their enemies while they tried to figure out which path they'd chosen. At the second intersection, when she'd executed the ability for the forth time to break up a robust group she could hear gaining on them, something went wrong.

The thunderheads flowed out from her frame with a rolling rumble, expanding to the edges of the adjacent buildings and crawling up their bodies to obscure everyone's vision behind the Rusalka. It wasn't until she took her next step after the cloud summoning that her footing faltered. The world spun as her allies ran around the next corner, out of her fuzzied view. She shook her head, desperately trying to shrug off the intense lightheaded feeling that overwhelmed her. It was for naught. A swift-footed Mantis soldier bodied her as she failed to skirt around the next building after the Elements. She grunted as his body slammed her against the wooden siding, head bouncing a bit off the wall with the impact.

Son of a bitch!

Maxine turned with a wild elbow that caught the soldier in the side of the head before his dagger found purchase. The point of his weapon struck the wall behind her, and once her cross punch crunched the bones of his face, her sword was next to follow up into his sternum. The ex-convict tried to turn and yank her sword free all at once, but her balance remained compromised for the moment. She spilled instead atop the dying young man on the street. Cursing, she looked up through the storm clouds behind her to spy the wave of armed shadows rushing her way.

"Shit!" she hissed, scrambling back toward uneven feet with her gladius in hand. With each passing trill her vision and balance began to settle. She glanced toward the direction in which Rey'na and Sephira had vanished. They'd evidently heeded her advice. They didn't stop. It was for the best. She couldn't have kept up with their speed in the moments her ground had turned unsteady anyways. The ex-convict leaned her head from one side to the other and adjusted her grip on her gladius. She could buy the Elements time if nothing else. Out-numbered. Out-flanked. She was, by all definitions, completely doomed. If she had a head on her shoulders, she would've kept to killing Elements rather than saving them. Perhaps the raw, unadulterated fury she held for Rey'na's idiocy would be enough to see her through the inevitable slaughter. She'd punish the green soldier for her treachery. In this life or the next.

The shadows rushed in, one-by-one revealing themselves to her as they exited the clouds. The first woman to emerge, as headstrong as the young man before her, came for the ex-convict straight on. She raised her sword with a rebel cry, and as bold as she'd rushed into the fray, Maxine permanently silenced her with a throwing dagger to the face. The yell awkwardly cut off and she fell onto her back. Her compatriots side-stepped her corpse, re-thinking their strategy until an imperfect half ring had formed around Maxine as they engaged her. The marked woman was in a flurry of motion with her enhanced sense of hearing toggled on. Labored breaths of nervous anticipation gave the initial bout of attackers away as they each stepped forth in turn to challenge her.

"Kill the Defier!" an axe-wielder shouted as he swung for her middle. Maxine's lip curled but there was no need to take the time to scoff at him. She faded out of his range and lunged back forward, punching her gladius through his eye and into his ignorant head. A trill later she'd yanked her sword free, swayed beneath the wide berth of a halberd, and raked the edge of her weapon along her attacker's belt-line. The sickening splat of unraveling intestines hitting the ground behind her range out, and as the man dropped the halberd so his hands could try in vain to catch his spilling organs, Maxine stormed past him to take on the next looking to cut her down. Just as she raised her sword with teeth bared, the point of a javelin protruded out the shoulder of her mark.

The ex-convict blinked, stumbling back to re-evaluate as the skewered men dropped at her feet. Her gaze raised in time to spy the javelin thrower's second spear take another man in her path in the ribs. Maxine's brow furrowed. The mysterious new ally resembled the same one who led the initial attack on the Mantis at the mage burning to start with. By no means did she trust the stranger, but racing through the hole in her enemy's formation toward the unknown was better than waiting for them to regroup. Max charged through the opening, scooping her dagger out of the first woman's face as she ran. Things were starting to look up. Then the damn lizards came.

Like scaly meteorites from the sky, the Ithecal squadron landed to do what the Mantis had failed to achieve. Memories of Ran'dar flooded the ex-convict's head. Her feet pounded harder upon the pavement, desperately working to create distance between herself and the far more formidable foes. Separated from those Kura had sullied her to, Maxine accepted the mage was likely her best and only way out of this confrontation alive. Her javelin throwing skills had proven her powerful enough at the very least. Powerful was something needed to handle the crocodilian men closing in on them.

"Don't have to tell me twice," Max murmured to the woman before she temporarily sheathed her sword in favor of her daggers. Backing up while the mage rushed forward behind her, the marked woman focused solely on the Ithecals coming from her direction. The first dagger she threw together caught one reptilian foe in the neck. While the creature buckled, his peer smirked as the second and third dagger bit into nothing but the broad face of his shield. Max frowned and drew her gladius again, turning in time to watch the mage-turned-bear toss one of their enemies like a rag doll. The Rusalka skid to a halt as the mess of metal and muscle dropped face-first at her toes. This time it was her turn to grin darkly. With a yell she drove her sword through the creature's muzzle until the tip struck the street beneath. Then she was running again, following the Becomer down the narrow alleyway while the lizardmen rushed to organize and pursue their targets.

Max looked to the door the bear had disappeared behind and rushed toward it. She parted the nosed open barrier just enough so that her slender body could slip inside. Then, just before the first team of armored reptiles turned the corner to begin their sweep, she pressed it shut behind her with wide eyes. The bear was not quite a bear anymore though. Trill by trill it was morphing before her very eyes into something--no, someone--familiar. Beneath an alarming handful of mutations, Maxine recognized the person returning to form after a few moments of reaching into her memory pre-Slags Deep.

"Qit'ria?" she whispered, bewildered. A low, rumbling growl from one of the nearby Ithecals shut her up. Back against the door and sword clutched against her chest, Maxine dare not move. Not even an inch. With enemies as tough as the ones outside the door, the pleasantries of reunited acquaintances would have to be tabled for later.

[Qit'ria]

Timestamp

Qit'ria kept one eye on the door as her transformation was underway. Qit'ria kept her left paw raised and readied toward the door as her body shrank and twisted, snapping and creaking and squishing into the form she normally held. When she saw it was the woman and not a giant lizard coming, she felt a moment of relief, but didn't lower paw-now-turning-into-clawed-hand. This woman was a stranger, and strangers could never be trusted. She'd learned that all too well. Her mother had been a stranger, but she'd let her guard down, thinking that she herself had been wrong about the woman.

Turns out, Qit was never wrong.

As the transformation finished, Qit was dead still, already dropping the beat of her heart as she calmed the breath in her chest, staring at the woman she'd aided. The huntress didn't move. And while she studied the woman, she echoed the cat's hearing into her own ears, turning her head so one ear was pointed toward the door, listening for the heavy thudding of Ithecal footsteps.

The woman before her looked familiar. She couldn't quite place it, for she didn't remember many people. But as her own name left the mystery woman's lips, her eyes grew wide. She'd not made it a habit to tell too many people her name. Dark hair. Strangely large lips. They all looked similar to the memory that was eluding Qit'ria. But that voice... Everything else seemed close yet off, but the voice was spot on to the half memory.

She heard the heavy thuds outside, and her fist clenched tight.

That forming of the fist is what did it. She remembered her, the woman from the docks, when she'd been attempting to solve the Curse Eater's riddle. They'd fought together. The woman looked a lot different now. No longer a house cat, but a wild jungle cat. Tougher. And... broken, yet fixed again. What was her name though? Sapphire kept coming to mind, but that couldn't be right. She didn't look like a blue gemstone. There was just a moment of recognition in the huntress' eyes.

Several more heavy thuds of feet went past down the alley, so much weight the ground shook lightly.

Shook just enough to shake the raise lockbar, which promptly fell into place across the closed door with a heavy crash. Qit'ria didn't wait nor speak, and immediately turned in toward the warehouse, moving with footsteps as quiet as a mouse's whisper. At least until the first orders were barked out in that deep voice only large Ithecals could pull off.

"Search that building!"

The door shook as an Ithecal tried to push it open. A moment later, it shattered open as the Ithecal crashed bodily to and through it, and already Qit'ria was running. The warehouse was massive, filled with piles and stacks of crates and three story tall ceiling. The Ithecal spotted her and Maxine, and a shrill whistle was blown. The Ithecal in the area would begin converging on the location en masse.

Qit'ria ran toward the crates, deciding that going low would be better than going high atop them. There was no straight up fighting these organized brutes of steel and flesh. Ambush, surprise, stealth, and picking them off, one, two at a time. Or simply fleeing. They hadn't been on the names her cats had brought her, so they weren't Mantis, just soldiers. She'd kill them all the same, but they didn't deserve it as much as those who took nearly everything from her, and still wanted more.

She took a sharp right turn around a crate, taking a moment to see the first of the thundering beasts charging into the warehouse. Part of her found it amusing to see a stampede of such. Stampedes were powerful, but they were dumb. She scrambled up the aisle of crates, seeing it was a dead end. Or rather, a dead end for most people. She ran full sprint at the end, and then ran up several paces of the face of the stack of crates there. She leapt at the last moment before she'd have lost her grip on them. She grabbed the top of the stack and pulled herself up.

Then the stack next to her exploded as the first Ithecal quite literally crashed through it.

Qit'ria turned to see crates flying about, and the Ithecal down below in the wreckage, recovering. The other Ithecal were further back. She could've jumped, gotten ahead of the falling dominos-like stacks of crates and attempted to outrun it. Instead, she jumped forward, down toward the first armored brute. She landed just to the side of him, sweeping the sword out of his reach. His own clawed hand shot out toward her leg from his position on his hands can knees, and she kicked that leg up and into his face.

It felt like kicking a damn tree.

He moved to get up, and she leapt, jumping upon his armored back. Her smaller size versus his larger allowed her to plant her knees between his covered shoulder blades as an arm snaked around his neck. But this wasn't to try and choke him out. She wasn't sure she had the strength to pull that off, and was absolutely sure she didn't have the time. But what it did was keep him from tucking his chin down.

As he moved to stand, she got her claws into the side of his neck, just below her wrapped arm. She stabbed, over and over and over, hopping that Ithecal had the same vein there as deer and other creatures did. She was rewarded by blood spewing out and him staggering about. His powerful hands closed around her arm, trying to pull it loose, or break it. But with each heartbeat, more blood flowed, and his strength waned.

She didn't bother to wait longer, as the other Ithecals came into view. She let go of his neck, and pushed off from her knees into a back handspring, bouncing off her hands before alighting onto her feet, covered in the lizard's blood. She quickly pulled two more javelins from her magic bag. She threw the it at the lead Ithecal, who carried a large shield, who raised it to deflect it. Qit'ria spun to build momentum as she threw the second, lower now that the shield was raised. This one punched through the heavy armor of the Ithecal's thigh, burying deep to the bone.

Cripple and bleed out. That was the name of the game to the huntress. But the Yari Ithecal were not an easy people to beat, and they'd been itching for a good fight. And since their contract said nothing about the destruction of property, they'd planned their tactics accordingly. They were here for shock and awe after all.

Crash after crash after crash as Ithecal tackled through the walls themselves of the warehouse, as stacks continued to fall. Dust and debris were heavy in the air. Qit'ria sniffed, finding the human woman's scent easily, and she slipped into the dust. The Ithecal slowed their approach as the dust held heavily in the air. Qit'ria followed her nose to find the woman. She moved silently, but when she came close, the woman's name came rushing back to her.

"Mack."

Nailed it, again.

"All surround. Fight with me, one more? Like docks?"

Qit'ria didn't put faith in many people, but Max had made the best of first impressions. In this moment, she trusted her just as much as she trusted Faith with her baby, as much as she trusted Oonah. Mack was a woman who would fight, and fight hard. Orders around the warehouse were barked, and the footsteps were slow on the approach. They had a few, hushed moments before the lull was over.

[Max]

The process of a Becomer returning to form was a grotesque one by every account. Bone snaps and joint manipulations that should've made a stomach turn echoed out from the hiding mage. The ex-convict had to give Qit'ria credit by the time the transformation had been complete. As agonizing as the whole affair appeared, she hadn't made so much as a sound of weakness for its duration. The woman was tough. Plenty had changed since the last time the pair had met, but thankfully, that trait had remained. It was a good thing, too. Toughness was something the both of them would need to continue to wield if they hoped on making it out of this alive.

It took a trill, but recognition mirrored in Qit'ria's eyes after a moment of studying Maxine. She too remembered. The marked woman gave her a sniff nod of acknowledgement, dimming the rattled expression she wore when she'd first gazed upon the now altered face of the wild woman. No questions. No pleasantries. If there was any catching up to be done between them at all, it could come later. This chaotic pair were fit to communicate time passed in a language both could understand clearly: violence. When the heavy crash and the orders rang out, it became clear that showcasing their fluency was unavoidable. The Ithecals were coming for them.

Good. Come on in and search. I've got something for you fucks to find.

Qit'ria had quietly moved out of hiding to fall deeper into the warehouse. Maxine had a thought to remain in place, but a shove upon the door quickly killed that idea. She sprinted after the mage, weaving around a couple stacks of crates just as the door came down and the whistle blew. She cursed under her breath. Too slow. At least the dizziness had worn off in time for the battle to come. At last one of the bastards had seen where she'd zipped off to. He barreled down through the rows while his brethren locked onto the less elusive Becomer. His powerful legs outmatched the scrawny criminals, and he was nearly at her heels by the time she turned the corner. Eyes wide with sinister anticipation, the Ithecal pivoted after her only to be met by a volley of daggers.

Two bounced harmlessly off his chest place and clattered uselessly at his feet. His chest rose to laugh, but the inclination was stemmed by the one dagger that found its mark in the base of his throat. Maxine had doubled back while dread dawned upon the creature, re-emerged behind him to jam her sword down through his collar to finish the job. She reclaimed her sword and her throwing daggers, glancing about before she traveled on. The Ithecal fell. By the time two more converged on his last known position, his killer was long gone.

"Find her!"

The ex-convict smirked at the command from the mercenary as she repositioned herself in the crate maze. The collapsing crates only added to the chaos, and it was this sort of chaos and confusion on the battlefield that Maxine thrived within. She raced along the falling dominoes toward the sound of combat. Toward the end she spied an Ithecal realizing he stood in the trajectory of falling crates too late. He turned on instinct, raising his shield to block the incoming object as it began to fall toward him. Maxine lunged in during this trill of distraction, gladius burying itself in the exposed armpit of the Ithecal's shield-side. The reptile groaned his surprise and pain, neither which would last long. The criminal wrenched her sword back and continue running, dropping down into a slide to avoid the collapse of the crate tower when it tipped too low for comfort. She was back on her feet again the trill she was clear, leaving the mercenary to wither beneath the wooden splinters that buried him in her wake. Never stop moving. That was the strategy the marked woman was counting on.

Two down at least. Still far too many to go.

Finding her visual field clear for the moment, the instinct to flee kicked back in. She heeded its calling. Max turned away from the sound of moving soldiers, weaving through the debris in search of a back exit. Back to the streets, she could run. There were options there. She could duck into a tavern or some sort of brothel, blending into the crowd or the lull of people too indulged in their vices to mind the fugitive. Perhaps she could even find her allies if they did manage to escape. All she could be sure of was that staying in this warehouse too long would seal her fate. The longer she remained in one place, the more resources the Mantis would have to dedicate to her killing or apprehension. As much as she wanted to believe she could, it wasn't realistic that she could kill every soldier she was faced with. Her body would eventually give in or they'd surround her. She had to get out. Now.

An opening at the end of the building finally revealed itself to her. There was another door, and one that was unscathed by the falling towers and crashing Ithecals. There was her way out. She began sprinting in its direction, and was very nearly there, when the trio of Ithecals searching for their mate's killer emerged in her path. Max slid to a halt, expression darkening before she turned left back into the maze away from salvation. The hammering of heavy feet upon the ground behind her indicate her new enemies indeed spied her quick enough to give chase.

Fucking Rey'na.

The sea of dust filled the warehouse with the collapse of the final falling tower. The debris was as choking as it was concealing, and while she suppressed coughing fits, the criminal continued her evasive tactics. After a half bit she ducked down against a pile of rubbish to catch her breath. A couple trills in when she didn't hear foot steps racing after her, she nearly had the thought to temporarily relax. That's when the clawed hand reached over her hiding place and ripped her out of it, bringing her face-to-face with one of the Ithecals who had been hunting her. Ambrosia-dilated eyes wide, Max grit her teeth and swung for the smirking face of the mercenary. He chuckled, a scaled hand coming out to catch her wrist. There was only question in his smug eyes as they assessed his catch: was there greater reward in sealing her fate or turning her in?

Maxine couldn't reach his head, but what she could reach with her bony shin was the one place a full set of armor didn't protect: what was between the legs. The Ithecal's thoughtful eyes bulged with agony and a groan breathed out his nostrils. He bent involuntarily at the waist the second time the shin rose, bringing the behemoth just low enough that Maxine's uncaptured hand could take one of her throwing daggers, and jam it through an eye of his helmet. He screeched, releasing and reeling away from her to procure his longsword. Max gave him no reprieve, knowing the value in this moment to strike like lightning. She dipped under his wild, proactive sword swings to lash a wound open on the inside of one of his thighs. He dropped to a knee. Maxine ended him with a baseball swing to the base of his throat.

Breathing heavy, she spat on the corpse she'd made and peered through narrow eyes through the dusty haze. More foot steps. Someone else was heading towards her. She curled her lip and raised her gladius, preparing to gut the Ithecal silhouette racing toward her in the dust cloud. The foot steps veered away, but to her flank she recognized a shadow looming in. Max turned on her heel, muscles tense as she began her swing. She cut it short when she heard the butchering of her name, lowering her weapon a smidge at Qit'ria's arrival.

Close enough.

"Fight with you?" Maxine echoed lowly, breathing a laugh. She gave her sword a playful twirl and shrugged, flashing the woman a devilish grin. "I thought you'd never ask." Surrounded. She expected as much by now. It didn't make for a hopeful situation, but one women like Qit'ria and Maxine could enjoy nonetheless. If this became a last stand it would be one in which a warrior's death was assured. She wasn't going to be apprehended and thrown in this kingdom's prison cell. She'd take the chopping block over another incarceration, hands down. "You're good with those javelins. Let me draw the fuckers in. Take them out from a perimeter point. Whatever new game plan they're making, it'll be fucked when the bodies start dropping again." Disorganization. That was how they'd win. Divide and conquer. "Just don't let them circle me too long."

Maxine silently moved forward with her gladius bared toward the sound of slowly converging troops. She gave her shoulders a shrug, neck a tilt to either side as she wandered through the settling dust cloud. The ex-convict found a nice high pile of debris to plant herself upon like a flag mounted at the top of a hill. Her dark eyes carefully surveyed the haze, enhanced hearing toggling on in hopes she could catch an unforeseen tactic before it was employed. Maxine gave another showman twirl of her sword.

"Alright, you ugly, snaggletoothed fucks," Max loudly mocked the approaching silhouette's, turning in place every now and then. "I'm done running. Don't too excited. This isn't a surrender." The shadows began to quickly turn into the full shapes of weaponized lizards bearing heavy mercenary armor. "I just want to see how many of you dumb bastards think you can come up here and take me off this hill. Tell me, will Rynmere be able to calculate how shitty an investment you lot were by counting the bodies in the tall pile I'm going to make out of you?" The order rang out and the shrieks of war followed with the mass of shadows that collapsed toward Maxine.

[Qit'ria]

Timestamp

Qit'ria smirked as Mack laid out her plan. It was simple enough and she agreed with it. Her hand slipped into her domain pouch to grab another javelin, but instead, she grabbed a root. She pulled it out, having forgotten she'd ever had a piece of arrowroot in there in the first place. She had the strangest feeling of coincidence occurring. Acting on instinct, she took a bite from the root, made a horrified face at the taste, and returned the rest of the root to her bag.

She felt the change, the desire to the shadows, the yearn to go unseen. Her mind immediately began turning toward her spark, building a form in her head designed to better go unseen and to help fight these beasts. She built the Borrowed form in her mind with a feral grin on her face. She reached into several totems and began pulling forms out. The short, dark fur of the batcat, along with its eyes and ears, the muscles for her torso and arms from the bumblebear, the soft walking pads of Tim the cat upon the soles of her feet.

She started the transformation first into the bear form to serve as the base since she needed a larger portion of it. She grew felt her muscles swell like the throat of a frog, and then the gaps fill in with new musculature. Her bones stretched and twisted. As the fur began to grow out, she stunted it, calling upon her batcat now. She grew the short, black, silky fur instead. She continued to twist and sort her body until she was the perfect form she felt she needed.

Her head and neck was that of the panther. It extended down into broader shoulders, with her Sev'ryn arms. Her biceps, chest and back muscles were all noticeably larger and covered in the dark black panther fur. This extended down into her thicker musculatured abdominals and made their way down into her thick Sev'ryn legs empowered by the bear muscles. She assimilated everything except for the belt that held her bottomless bag of javelins.

The change didn't take too long, as she was getting rather fast at it, and they had the cover of the dust to delay the enemies' approach. She grabbed two javelins, and slipped away from Maxine who moved out into the open. It was a simple plan. Max was the feint and she was the suckerpunch. Just as the fates intended.

Qit'ria's ears twitch all about, listening for the scrape of armor on armor, of the sounds of footsteps. The dust was still obscuring so her eyes were not needed, so she closed them. She listened to Maxine's taunting words, loving the fire in the woman, supremely confident in their ability to handle this situation. Qit could hear the Ithecal's moving in on Maxine's position, just as intended. Meanwhile, Qit, more silent than the life living a loved one's eyes, slipped through their ranks. She was outside the net they intend to close.

She stalked in behind one, hearing ten beings total closing in on Maxine. She made sure to keep a special ear out on the woman. Qit got in close to the Ithecal, following in his foot steps. She then prepared the first throw, leaning to the right of the Ithecal she stalked. She did a side arm sling, a straightline bullet throw directly across. The spear passed close to Maxine and struck the Ithecal in the knee, forcing a hiss of pain and him dropping to the ground clutching it. The Ithecal in front of Qit turned to the right hissing and Qit followed in behind him, side slinging the other javelin around his left side, hitting the Ithecal closest to him, right in the arm pit, puncturing through the chainmail. He dropped down and bled out in moments.

The Ithecal in front of her turned wildly to the left and Qit continued to stay in his shadow and then slipped off toward the lizardman she'd just killed. The lizardman she'd been stalking snarled "There's more of them! Not just the two! They are all around us!" Qit'ria continued onward, pulling the javelin from the dead mercenary, when she heard the wind shift. A breeze blew through the holes in the warehouse and began to clear the dust. With her heightened stealth instincts Qit recognized her cover was about to be quite scarce.

Time to use the time that was left.

She set out in a light jog. She skirted around the group, pulling and throwing javelins about, none really hitting their marks in a fatal way, but the many angles plus the last vestiges of dust cover made it seem as if they were coming from everywhere. While doing this, she echoed out several bestial sounds all around them. One panther cry, one bear roar, a house cat's hiss, the clicking screeting sound of her sword nosed dolphin. Confusion spread through the ranks, "How many do they--" a javelin in the neck silenced the Ithecal permanently.

Then the wind finished blowing and the dust was gone, three Ithecal were down, two of those dead. But the remaining seven were still spread out around Maxine. And Qit was shadowed in behind the leader, for he stayed the furthest back. She was so close that her breasts were near touching his back, and she stayed loose in her movements. Thankfully he was large, and the armor served as a dampener of noticing her presence.

It was Max's turn as the Ithecal group closed in nervously on the lone woman, unsure of when the next barrage of javelins would fly in at them from the many unseen attackers they were sure had them surrounded.

[Max]

The gifted, renown mercenaries heard the challenge and it was one that they couldn't refuse. Their honor dictated they should slay the woman on her hill of debris to silence her insult to their merit. It was time to close their hunt anyways. It would be an easy finish. She was only one loud woman after all. The other she fought with could be dealt with quickly thereafter when they tracked her down. The circle of Ithecal began to collapse around Maxine. Weapons gripped in readied hands, each reptile leveled their gaze upon their target. One-by-one they'd take their turn ripping her apart where she stood.

The thing about being surrounded was that it guaranteed death. No one could possibly defend themselves from all angles at the same time. This was a reality that Maxine understood, but for the sake of her plan, she stood fast. She lowered herself into a combat stance and kept her head on the swivel. The dust cloud hid the converging warriors as they loomed nearer. Shadowy silhouettes broke shape with each passing trill, and soon she could make out the details of those who had come to kill her. This plan was the greatest gamble Maxine had made in some time, and it was one she'd pay with her life should it fail. Her survival rested entirely on the mage's shoulders. It was a privilege she'd not granted even to her closest allies. Qit'ria alone determined the criminal's fate.

One of the reptilian men picked up his pace, and just like that, she was swarmed. With his sword in hand he trudged up the hill of rubble with powerful legs. Maxine turned and parried his reaching stab away, planting a foot in his muzzle to send him rolling back down the decline. To her left an adversary with a spear used his weapon as leverage to hustle his ascension. Her body squared to him, slipping the first jab as he initiated their deadly dance. Her forward avoidance of the strike brought her close enough to bring her blade down upon the fingers that grasp the spear shaft. The Ithecal gave a howl and the weapon involuntarily dropped from his hands. He faded back, clutching the bloody stubs where his digits used to be. There was no time to finish him off. Another rose in his place from another direction. She had to keep moving and using the advantage of the high ground for as long as she could. She could only keep up for so long.

Then the javelin came. It roared past her so suddenly she took the briefest pause to appreciate its entrance, head turning to follow its path into the knee of one of her attackers. The Ithecal roared and tumbled backward. A wicked grin crossed Maxine's expression. Another mercenary's cry indicated Qit'ria's position, though when Max cast her gaze in that direction through the haze, the silhouette moving resembled anything but the wild woman she knew. A chorus of animal sounds filled the warehouse. The Becomer had taken on another form. Whatever it was, it was a formidable one indeed.

Some time bought with javelin-induced fatalities, Max finally found enough stagger in the advance of her enemies to focus on slaying them in turn. A bastard with a mace club nearly took her head off from behind, and likely would've had his battle cry not given him away pre-swing. She ducked and pivoted, gladius slashing out to attack the side of the man's knees before she popped up to a stand behind him. Frustrated, he turned to punish her with a back swing. He found his attack hesitating when he felt the blade slip between his armor and his trousers, grinding against his spine on the way through his body cavity. Max wrenched his sword back out and shoulder-shoved him away. He landed face-first, left to bleed while the criminal drove her sword through the fingerless adversary working his mind back into the fight.

Standing high on her small hill, Maxine looked around the hazy warehouse with furrowed brow. How many could be left now? Five? Seven? She ran and slid down the side of her hill, feet finding the floor to stand in the path of the four she could readily see. The mage and her "merry band" in the shadows had been picking them off while the criminal reaped them on a pedestal. Splitting up was no longer a viable option, and thus the quartet formed to lend strength in numbers. Max smirked at the cluster. She could see the fear and irritation in their eyes. They were Yaralon. They were the best...and yet they were being bested by a rag-tag duo of undisciplined outcasts they themselves forced into alliance. They would die for it.

"Good," Maxine commended them with a half-smirk, still garnering the most of their attention to lend Qit'ria the continued advantage of stealth through distraction. "Group up. Make it easier for me to stack what's left of you." Hisses escaped gnashed jaws, but it seemed they would not be so easily baited. Their eyes glanced now and then to their flanks while a leader lurked behind them in the shadows.

"Shields up!" the Ithecal commanded in his booming voice. The four reptiles ahead of his immediately obeyed. Their shields came up, the leading pair standing side-by-side while the other pair behind them guarded their flank. Max pressed her lips together. Sudden organization wasn't ideal. The quartet began to march forward to engage her. She'd have to make do. Max stood in their line, trying to formulate a plan on the spot. With the two at the point wielding spears, smashing into their shields wasn't going to sow anything but her death. Together they could win.

"How many 200 pound lizard men does it take to handle one woman?" she mused while they slowly advanced as a group. "More than two." She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder toward the hill where the two she'd slain rested in blood. One of the Ithecal stirred behind his shield at the gesture. She focused in on that man in particular, a man from the second pair with a short sword clutched tight in his scaled fist. "I'd say maybe four. Except you don't have four." The energy in the room seemed to change now when she spoke. Tensions grew with every word, the flames of wrath fanning to dangerous levels. "Four capable men wouldn't have gotten their brothers killed. You're no men. And this one here?" She singled out the angriest of the bunch with a point of her gladius. "You might as well have empty space. You've got 200 pounds of bitch guarding your right flank."

That was all he could take. With the protest of his brethren in his ears, the furious Ithecal shoved through the front line of shields to race toward Maxine with his sword raised. They were broken again. Chaos and disorganization ruled, much to the ire of their leader. Smugness in his victory was short lived. The massive frame of a very pissed off Ithecal charged for her. She raised her sword and curled her lip. Now she'd have to taste the ire she'd elicited and pay it back in kind. She could only hope Qit'ria hadn't abandoned her yet.

[Qit'ria]

Timestamp

Qit'ria peered around the leader she was shadowing as she heard Maxine taunting the Ithecal. Qit'ria didn't understand all the words, but the tone was clear and brought a feral grin to her face. The first time she'd smiled since her father had died. And the taunt worked. One of the four broke ranks. Qit'ria decided that now was the time to act. She grew out the paralytic claws of the Mer into her left hand, her right grabbing another javelin, all in perfect silence.

She slid her hand over the Ithecal's armored belt, finding a slight crease where the belt ended and the breast plate started. Qit'ria slowly felt in there, the barest touch of skin. No further armor beneath the plate. Perfect. She stabbed her claws into the Ithecal leader's back, while he roared in pain. She kept them in there as long as she could, jumping up and finding toe holds on his armor, using her javelin for leverage. He twisted trying to reach back with the clawed hands of his own, but he was too big and she was too small. He roared and began moving about, causing a ruckus.

The three remaining shield bearers held their position but their eyes turned to see their leader being attacked by a tiny woman. Soon, Qit'ria pulled her poison claws free, and leapt off the Ithecal, turning it into a back hand spring of which she bounced lightly on the balls of her feet. Her eyes were already on the Ithecal running at Maxine, his own flank unguarded. Two stomping leaps forward and she loosed her spear. He was more heavily armored than his fallen brethren, but she didn't aim for the armor. Her spear hit true, embedding in the wooden floor between his legs. One armored foot hit the spear, snapping it, but also sending the Ithecal tripping forward. He didn't fall but his balance was lost as he careened toward Mack.

The roar leader charged at Qit who skipped back and away from him. The three shield bearers looked unsure of what to do. Push forward to help their friend, hold position as ordered, or go to help their leader. Qit'ria let the Ithecal come, separating him from the rest. He now wield twin battle axes and was swinging them fiercely. A single hit from either of those would cleave Qit in half.

But they weren't moving as fast as she thought. Or perhaps she was faster now. Each swing drove her back and back. She felt her heel bump into a crate and she instantly back flipped up onto it, as the Ithecal growled thinking he'd surprise her with that. She turned and ran, leaping from crate to crate, balancing precariously on a few of the ones that had fallen awkwardly. The leader shoved his way through the crates, smashing those that got in his way.

As she ran, she called upon her vines. She turned a corner, extended the vine across, grabbing a heavy crate, and she ducked behind another. The Ithecal leader came, as expected, tripping over the thick vine. He landed hard face first, his arms comically splayed out ahead of him, axes still in hand. And Qit'ria pounced, stabbing into his exposed neck with her poisoned claws once more. He tried to shake her off, get her off his back. He tried to stand, but his body began to seize up. The paralytic was finally working.

And once it fully took hold, the poor Ithecal looked like a beggar on his hands and knees. Qit'ria's spark reared up, it wanted his form. It had helped her and it wanted its prize it seemed. She sent a feeling of urgency toward it. There was no time to make a totem, it was a long, slow process. The spark answered in kind. It flooded her mouth with ether, and her body surged with a hunger that was not there before. She yanked off the Ithecal's helmet, knelt down, and with her panther head, bit into the flesh of where its neck met the shoulder. She bit and bit and bit until she found bone. She crunched through it, and chewed up the meat, blood, and bone, infusing it with the ether her spark provided.

Then she felt it.

The mush in her mouth had become a totem, of sorts. She ripped the essence out and flooded it into her body, and she felt the essence take hold. Her body grew and grew, taking on the Ithecal form. This gave her an idea. She made her way toward the shield bearers and Mack, once she saw the current situation, Qit yelled in her new Ithecal voice. "Stop. To me."

And those not currently engaged answered, relieved to have a clear order. Two shield bearers approached Qit, one lagging behind. When they saw her without the armor the captain wore, they were confused. "Captain, why are you naked?"

She didn't speak Common well, so instead of directly answering, she just growled menacingly at them. They shut their lizard traps right quick. She pointed north, "Follow her!" The lizards grew wide eyed and left the building to chase the woman who had bested their leader. Once they were gone, Qit'ria began the transformation back to her Sev'ryn form, drawing a javelin as she did so, her eyes on Mack and the final enemies she faced. She'd help Mack if needed, but a feeling in her gut said Mack would be just fine. And so, she waited on the woman to finish her business, so they could get out of here.

[Max]

You've really fucking done it now, haven't you?

The Ithecal ran toward her with his maw twisted in a snarl, sword raised and shield forward. The rest of the formation he'd left behind hissed their protest but remained a trio in his impulsive departure. An alarming roar erupted from behind them but he didn't so much as pause. He had his eyes locked on Maxine and nothing would sway him from his target now. Except, it seemed, the stray javelin thrust into the air from the sidelines. It struck his armored foot, and though it failed to penetrate, the projectile did more damage than the Ithecal would've ever expected.

Maxine glanced beyond the small Ithecal herd toward her ally. The appreciative grin was short-lived on her face. She still had a Yari beast hurtling toward her. The strike to his foot destroyed the fluidity of his gait. His next steps turned into violent stumbles Max was quick to meet. As she came into his range she feigned left, and the reptile planted his foot to commit to following her in that direction mid-stagger. It was when he made that move that he realized his mistake far too late. Maxine had already darted back to the right. By the time he had a thought to so much as rotate toward her, she was already up in the air, driving her gladius through the holes of his helmet.

The ex-convict slowed her momentum with a jog upon landing. Her venomous stare rested on the trio caught between two fronts. The Ithecal wavered for a moment before he dropped onto his back beside Maxine's hip, sword planted in his face. She reached down, grasped the hilt, and wrenched the weapon free of its grotesque, temporary sheath. Blood and brains alike dripped from the end of her blade. Another playful twirl, and those gory bits coated the wooden debris and structural pillars within her immediate vicinity. All the while, the Ithecal leader roared his protest against the woman who had behaved like a literal monkey on his back.

"One down," Maxine murmured darkly toward the three in her path with a sneer. "Three to go. No need to count him." She gestured with her bloody weapon behind them as their leader vanished around a corner. "He's already fucked. It's much too late for him." It wasn't just a taunt to put ice in their veins. It had been a long time since she threw a couple punches beside Qit'ria. Both of them were different animals now, and she pitied the fool who got caught in her fangs.

The formation hemmed. They hawed. They cursed and turned their heads about, minds and consciences torn in three. What to do, what to do? They could stay as they were bid. They could attack the raven-haired bitch who they watched claim yet another one of their brothers. They could lend aid to their capable leader tussling with the other bestial fugitive. Too many choices kept them paralyzed when it was decision time. Paralyzed, until one of them finally had enough. He cursed and turned to dart toward the last place he'd seen his leader. The other two hesitated before splitting from one another. A single spear-wielder moved toward Maxine with murderous intent now.

As much as she loved when she successfully baited a fish, her victory was only half-satisfying when reality struck her. Another behemoth was going to take a stab at her. A soldier without a sword but a shield and a spear. A spear had range. All she had was speed and guts on him. Max let out a dismayed exhale. Speed and guts would have to do. She had other allies out there somewhere to protect. First she had to win this battle with Qit'ria.

"Still want to stand in my way?" Max menaced darkly, accepting her fate. It was then that a commanding voice echoed about the warehouse. The spear-wielder stopped with a perplexed expression on his face. He started to back away rather than engage the ex-convict, and the trio looked toward their naked leader with tilted heads and blinking eyes. Max had to admit she was just as confused. It hardly mattered. Another order, and the lizard squad was sprinting out of the building to hunt down the "her" who could only be Qit'ria. Max adjusted her jaw and surged forward, tired legs kicking into a sprint despite the onset of exhaustion. It was when she watched the bare lizard looming in her path start to resemble a more familiar figure that she stopped.

Qit.

"Now that is a fucking trick," she laughed before cleaning and sheathing her sword. If she wasn't already back to considering the peril of their situation despite the short reprieve the Becomer bought, she might've slow clapped. Max extended her forearm for the woman to take if she so chose. A rare, fleeting gesture of camaraderie. "You're the last face I expected to see coming through my fog. I'd say this outdid the docks by far." Broad grin on her face, one might've mistaken her for a woman not currently on the run.

[Qit'ria]

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Qit smirked at Mack's kind words, coupled with a curt nod. "Yes."

Qit'ria drew her bone sword, walking over to one of the Ithecal. She chopped off a scaly hand and wrapped it up in cloth she tore from one of the bodies. She would make it into a totem later, when she had time to catch her breath. But what now? They were temporarily free of attack, but still very much exposed. The city was in an uproar, with soldiers everywhere, searching for her and Mack and others it seemed.

They couldn't stay here. It was too exposed, too many chances to be discovered. She could fly off on her own, but that would mean leaving Mack behind. And she wasn't about to leave behind one of the only people in Idalos that would fight by her side, no questions asked, as proven twice now. Qit'ria wouldn't dare try to make it back to the room they were renting, and she didn't have any other ground to go to.

"You have home here?"

Qit'ria began stalking around the warehouse, taking into account the entrances. She climbed up on some crates, looking out the window into the main street. She saw soldiers rushing by, off to some unknown location. She saw others stationed on the roofs. Couldn't go high. Couldn't go by road. What was left?

Her spark had an idea though, and she could feel it tugging at her soul. She gave her spark some ether, letting it pick out what it wanted to do. It took the ether and put it in the Aye-aye mouse totem. Qit wasn't so sure. It was her first totem, but wasn't particularly useful. Weak eyes, weak ears, decent sense of smell, small, good for hiding and burro.. that was it. That's what her spark was trying to tell her. Can't go above, go below.

Qit'ria first Echoed the senses of the rat into her own. Her eyesight greatly diminished, but there was going to be... something. Something more that her form wanted. There had to be. She sniffed with her nose, listened. There was no physical change that Maxine could be able to see, but Qit was moving about, sniffing with her alligator shaped snout, her ears twitching. There was a foul scent Qit'ria was picking up. Urine and feces and rot.

But this whole town smelled of that. It was a city after all. And cities were disgusting.

Drip.

Qit's ears twitched at the sound. She heard it nearby.

Drip.

Qit knew what it was now. Turning to Maxine, "Follow."

Qit shifted fully into her mouse form, the Ithecal hand tucked into the domain bag she assimilated, giving Maxine yet another lovely show of the muscles ripping, bones shattering, skin tearing, and bodily fluids leaking. Once she was finished, the large rat sniffed at the air. Yes, she could smell it now. And with the direction too. She just now realized that her native sense of smell in this form was stronger than when she Echoed it. She wondered if it was something to do with the shape of the face. Or just how the magic worked.

Rat'ria scampered along. Through the boxes toward the back of the warehouse she went. Crates were spilled everywhere, with so many contents, fabrics, dried foods, one that was filled with now broken bottles of rum, leaking all over the stone. Still, the huntress kept going through the maze, until she found an opening covered by a fallen box. She hopped down in the crack, finding herself on some stone stairs. She hopped down each step with more grace than one might expect of a rat.

She was in a basement of sort, with a smooth trench along the wall. She hopped down in the trench, seeing that it flowed down hill through a small stone hole. The entrance to the sewers. She squeaked loudly just in case Maxine had lost her. Then Qit'ria waddled through the filthy stream and slid down into the sewers proper, through the hole that was just big enough for Maxine to squirm through.

With a plunk, Qit'ria fell into the sewer river. She paddled over to the walkway on the side and pulled herself out. The stench was overwhelming down here. But it seemed that it was a complex maze of stone and muck and water. She shifted back into her Sev'ryn form. It was dark, so she adapted her panther eyes, giving her nightvision down here.

She waited on Maxine, to let that woman lead, to take them to a safe place. Qit didn't know cities well. Ball was in her court now.

[Max]

The ex-convict let her hand drop with no qualm. She shrugged her shoulders at Qit'ria's question. Home? That concept was always relative. While she had no place of real stay in Rynmere, she had a safe house of sorts with Sephira and Rey'na. She paused at that thought and frowned. Where was that pair anyways? They'd left her behind in the mad-dash away from the Mantis, and though the thought peeved her, the ex-convict understood survival of the fittest better than most.

The only reason she hadn't been killed or captured was Qit's appearance. She owed the Becomer. Whether or not her allies had made it back to safety was something yet to be discovered. All she could do now was try and secure that sanctuary for herself and Qit'ria. Of course the first impossible step on that journey was getting out of this warehouse unseen. The deformed woman had seemed to figure out a solution to that predicament as well. After a single command she phased into her next transformation.

Maxine's face scrunched as she watched it all unfold. Bones snapping, spine twitching, body convulsing as it ripped itself apart; the scene was nothing short of horrific. A weaker stomach would've emptied its contents right there on the floor, but for all its disgusting gore, Max found herself unable to look away. By the time it was over, a type of rat she'd seen running around Level 7 was in the Becomer's place. She shrugged her shoulders and refocused to the current state of their peril. Following Rat'ria as she moseyed about the warehouse, nose twitching all the way, pausing when she kicked the fallen box and realize where the Becomer was leading her.

"You've got to be shitting me," Maxine cursed as the foul stench of the sewers hit her. She glanced over her shoulder at the sound of a shout just outside the building. Another profanity was spat before she descended into the underground passage. Mousy squeaks guided her through the dark dredges. She forced herself through the opening after her guide, and as soon as she found herself sinking into the sewer sludge, her mouth clamped shut. Her stare became something nearly beyond homicidal if such a threshold could be crossed. "I am going to fucking kill Rey'na."

Without much choice, Max continued on through the piss and shit creek she'd been forced into by necessity. All the while she was murmuring the both the most vile insults and violent threats for a woman not present. She tugged herself out of the filth and suppressed a gag as the muck that fell from her frame. Beneath her clothes she'd worn Chrien's catsuit armor. She never thought she'd see the trial she'd be thankful for the gift, not for keeping her from being punctured, but for keeping this slime off her bare flesh. Another transformation and Qit'ria's silhouette returned in front of her. Max slung the refuse from her palms, mood embittered by the trill. She'd fucking had enough.

"This way," she growled as she eased by Qit'ria, toggling on her own enhanced vision to peer through the darkness. With her left hand on the near wall she moved along the walkway. Truth be told, the marked woman hadn't a single clue where they were going. She had the vaguest sense of general direction thanks to Audrae's curious blessing, but that was all. After they'd been traveling a half break, Max finally turned up a short flight of stone steps. Only a yawning arch locked closed with a rusted metal gate remained in their way. Instant irritation boiled to the surface at the sheer presence of one more obstacle. Maxine walked up to the gate, reared back, and slammed her heel against the rusted contraption. She kicked, kicked, and kicked until the bending metal broke enough for her to slide between the bars.

Finally!

Fresh air struck her like a blessing but she made no effort to slow their roll. Another couple sets of stone stairs led them higher to a main street she recognized. It was just around the corner from the butcher shop. Still too far to be running from the Mantis, and more pressing, caked in actual human excrement.

"Come," she beckoned Qit'ria before a fast pace led them the short remainder of their journey, eye catching as the pair were. When they reached the safe house Maxine jammed the key in, shoved open the door, and all but slammed it shut to lock behind the Becomer. The ex-convict immediately set to stripping down. She didn't care to worry for Qit'ria's modesty. The woman, she knew, had none. Boots left at the door, she pitched her tainted clothes in a garbage can. Only the catsuit remained.

What to do next? Kick the shit out of that girl or bathe first?

"I owe you for your help back there," Max walked back toward Qit'ria with a solemn expression. "You can lay low here with me if you want until the heat dies down. Eat. Bathe. Drink. All that." Her nose scrunched. Something warned her it would take trials for her to get rid of the stench that hung on them, let alone forget it long after it was gone. "I was with two other women running from the Mantis. I fell behind trying to cover our escape from the square. Did you see what happened to them?"