Snicker
Witch
Archer
Monkey Squad
Since joining the Company she keeps her pale skin and long, black hair as clean as a soldier can manage. These efforts at grooming are accompanied by streaking kohl around her grey eyes. She stands a few inches above average with a uniform that sags around her spindly frame. The slack is partially secured on-duty using cords of twine, an innovation which earned her praise from her superiors. Nowadays she is always wrapped in a khaki scarf off-duty.
There is something probing about her gaze as if she is studying something only her eyes can see. What she finds is anyones guess; same goes for why it makes her chuckle. Well, more than normal. Most everything seems to amuse her. And nothing makes her laugh harder than bloodshed.
Her blatant affection for her brethren is eclipsed only by that for her pet crow, Slate. She constantly chats with her companion who only responds with the occasional caw or avian twitch of the head. The question of whether these conversations are monologues or dialogues has yet to be settled. He has never left her side as far as anyone can tell, and if locked out he can even be seen peeking through windows.
Get lost. The sullen boy is thirteen if hes a day and summarily rejected before getting a word out. Its been a long day without enough viable candidates and the recruiters irritation is obvious at this point. The next in line is another criminal which doesnt do much to improve their mood.The convict is an emaciated woman wearing a tattered prison uniform with a foul rag stuffed in her mouth. Her pallid skin is covered in grime and her greasy black hair is in a state of severe disarray. Swollen splotches of purple and yellow are visible beneath the filth.
Her grey eyes are filled with amusement as she is dragged over which clearly pisses her two guards off to no end. She winces as she is shoved roughly into place, but the playful expression promptly resurfaces.
Murderess, this one, one curtly announces as the other rips the gag out of her mouth. Dont rightly know how she heard bout this, but whatre you gonna do? the first asks rhetorically then spits on the murderesss bare feet. A minority of the applicants have been ferried from jail, but this is only the third woman of the day.
Ahhh, thats better. Thank you, she haughtily remarks after swishing some of the muck around her mouth to hawk onto the ground. The second guard looks ready to slug her in the face. That whole business was self defence. I tried explaining, but no one would listen! A crow suddenly swoops down and perches on a shoulder. She greets the animal with a warm smile and brings her manacled hands up to affectionately rub the underside of its beak.
Pig was aiming to inflict grievous bodily harm upon my delicate flesh. He may have taken issue with a few harmless jibes of mine. She chortles then jerks her head toward the crow. Slate here was kind enough to warn me. Problem was, they didnt think him a reliable witness. Right proper miscarriage of justice.
He also suggested I enlist. The bird caws its assent. After all, that pig I put down had the life sucked out of him, blood pouring out his ears. Yet he died with a smile on his face. Curious, no? She quietly laughs then completes her audition with a smirk on her own.
Might your outfit have any uses for a witchs talents? And, well, if you want a show . . . She winks and tilts her head in her escorts direction. Just tell.
One . . . no response . . . two . . . dimwitted guards . . . three . . . silence.
The convicts smirk stretches into a wide grin. Thats a sure in her book. The bird on her shoulder flicks its head in understanding. She meets the second guards gaze from the corner of her eye and dark tendrils begin slithering around her irides. His shadow appears to ripple as he woozily grabs his forehead in a futile effort to remain conscious.
The first doesnt notice on account of the crow nearly colliding with his head as it flutters past. He dodges to the side with arms raised to protect his face while the criminal starts to mumble. She is tracing a disorienting pattern in the air, oily black smoke trailing behind an index finger. This may be an awkward task with bound wrists, but not an impossible one. He snarls as his instincts kick in and swiftly reaches across to draw his sword. Unfortunately for him, the flapping wings had occupied him just a moment too long.
The felon opens her mouth to scream and . . . nothing comes out? Yet the very air distorts around him, provoking the guard into covering his ears while doubling over like a man punched in the gut. The prisoner lunges and slams into him shoulder-first, grabbing the hilt of his sword which slides cleanly out of its sheath as he falls. She kicks the corner of his jaw for good measure then pounces on the other guard presently crumpled on the ground, fast asleep.
The stolen weapon is gripped with both hands and plunged into an eye with enough force to crack the orbit, pure zeal pumping strength into her scrawny arms. The one-eyed man jerks awake and flails at his attacker. However, this does nothing to stop her from repeating the procedure on the other side. Nor does it stop her from driving the blade deep into his throat. Twice.
Now that, that was not self defence. But odds are he had it coming.
Covered in blood, the confirmed murderess returns her attention to the living guard now struggling to get on his feet. It isnt going too well. She leaps toward him but is grabbed by another pair of guards. They had abandoned their own now-fleeing prisoner who wisely saw his chance to escape.
Her new captors are positioning themselves to assuredly beat their new prisoner to death, but a bellowing voice interrupts the assault.
Hoy! Get yer mits off. That uns ours.
The witch is distracted by her stumbling and tragically still-breathing victim. But fluid is gushing from his ears and he isnt reacting to the shouting. Shrieking him deaf seems enough to quell her bloodlust. She beams at her newfound brethrenslick with gore and laughing.
Shes found a home. A family worth fighting for.
A crow lands on the dead man and thrusts its beak into an eye socket to nibble at the shredded meal within. After a minute, others fly down to join in. Someone will eventually chase the murder away, but until then theres plenty to go around.
Grab his garb, he mutters to another recruiter.