Killjoy

"Zaida, is everything all right? You look uneasy."

The taller woman swallowed hard; her date's question a reality check that her constant scanning of the crowded streets of Merridian near the dancing grounds was not so subtle.

"No, no. It's nothing. Fret not."

Marisol gave a knowing smile. "I'm not so sure about that. Come now, you can tell me." She ran one of her hands up and down Zaida's arm reassuringly.

The knight could only avoid eye contact.

"Are you... looking for someone?" She paused, reading Zaida when she gave no verbal answer. "Yes, I think that's it. But why would you be looking for someone? You have me right here beside you, so are you hoping to find someone, or hoping to avoid someone?"

Zaida could feel her heartrate climb. She must have given away some superficial indicator because the grin on Marisol's face grew.

"Yeah, that's it isn't it? Well I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, Zaida, but you're giving me that dance no matter what. I don't care if you're concerned about some lout in the corps jeering about your grace or coordination. If anyone so dares, you simply send them my way, and I'll set them straight."

Zaida very nearly cackled with relief. "Ah, that's... very kind of you. Yes, I'll do what I can to swallow my diffidence." They were drawing close to the square where she had left Eposi with Marama. "Is t-this venue to your liking?"

"Oh no, darling. I'm sorry but this is not what I was looking for."

The taller woman was equal parts hopeful and confused.

"No, I was hoping for something much more lively than this, I'm afraid. Pardon my curt wording, but this is the sort of scene more suitable to geriatrics looking for mild fun."

Zaida blinked. Goodness. Don't let Eposi hear you.

"Help me find a space with more vitality in it," Marisol requested, already changing their course. "I know I may have a few decades over the kids, but I promise I can keep up." She added a wink.

Four Merridian locals were presently entangled with Markil. He was fighting more than that, but only the four could reasonably engage him without posing too great a hinderance to one another. One hung from his back, arm locked around his throat in a vain attempt to **** out the knight. His legs swung clear of the ground and yet Markil only appeared minorly encumbered by his weight. A second man stood ducked down with both arms wrapped firmly around the royal knight's midsection, seemingly hoping to get him off is feet. The remaining two stood before Markil, fists raised and hunting for openings. They would have circled to either side of the outsider in hopes of splitting his attention, but their fellow on his back acted as a convenient shield - convenient for Markil, anyway. They were in the middle of the street now, the site being a natural destination as the combatants unconsciously drifted towards broader spaces that offered more options.

Wearing a hungry grin, the royal knight stepped forward - right through the resistance posed by the man on his waist - and approached the first of the two not currently grappling him. He feinted a left hook only to follow through with a right cross.

The human caught the fist in the face, his head flicking back with the **** of the blow. He stumbled backward, saved from a hard landing by a pair of attentive bystanders.

While the provocateur was committed to his offensive, the second human came in for her own strike. She drove a mighty punch directly at Markil's face. To the dismay of all but himself though, he wove clear of it, and left the the head of the man on his back in place to receive it on his behalf.

The terrified expression on the woman's face did not last long before it was contorted in pain by the underhand strikes that emptied her lungs of air.

"Fucking keel over already, bastard!" grunted the man at Markil's gut. He had given up on trying to topple the royal knight and was now hammering away at his side, just under his ribs.

"Ha, ha, ha, ha!" Markil openly guffawed. "Hoping to tickle me into submission? Keep that up and you may get just that!" In a demonstration of arrogance-fueled sloppiness, he took the man by the arms, shifted his own stance backward, and dropped them both to the ground. He landed the weight of himself and the human on his back atop the man, nearly crushing him.

"Thanks for the help," the royal knight said derisively to the final human, "but now it's your turn." Raising a hand over his shoulder, he took the commoner by the hair, pulling hard until their grip on his neck came loose. He dragged them around and took them by the collar of their shirt with both hands. He hoisted them in the air, leaving them to kick desperately at his legs.

They even went so far as to smash away at his taunting visage.

It was a deep sort of gratification that Markil got from drinking in the look of despair that slowly overtook the human's features. He dragged them in for a swift headbutt that left his opponent dazed, then threw them clear.

"Anyone else care for a tas-"

The royal knight's remark was cut short by the sucker punch delivered by one of two hulking commoners that had just joined the fight.

Touching his fingers to his lip, Markil found them wet and red. "Ah, I suppose the others were right; you lambs do know how to party..."

"If you're going to ruin everyone's fun by looking for trouble, the least you could do is find it with an even fight," the second colossus spat.

"Certainly," Markil agreed, wearing a contemptuous smile and righting his stance. "Do you happen to know where I could find one?"

The royal knight engaged the giants; the fight was far from over. What had started out as an unwelcome but not entirely unanticipated scuffle had spiralled into a bloody brawl that left the festivalgoers weary and scared. Someone needed to put a stop to this.

One citizen noticed the absence of something and snapped their head this way and that in search of it. "Where are the damned guards?"

Marisol was true to her word; her energy was a perfect match for the more youthful crowd, and seemingly drawn from a reserve that could have seen her to the final night of the Festival without recess.

Zaida herself was a different story. Her progress with dancing disappointed her as she fought a constant battle to avoid tripping over her own feet. It was as if the tempo had reached a point beyond the scope of her coordination. Even so, Marisol appeared to be having a brilliant time, so the sacrifice was acceptable.

"Ah-ha!" the courier gave a gratified cheer as the band sounded the final notes of the latest song. "Oh, I'd almost forgotten how much better it is with a partner! I think I need a break though."

"Are you sure?" Zaida asked. She figured that if she was not tired - at least not in the physical sense - then it was unlikely that Marisol would need a moment of respite. After all, the sweat was barely even dewing the smaller woman's forehead.

"Yes, I'm sure," she nodded with amusement. "There are seats over there."

Allowing herself to be led to the edge of the space, Zaida caught a sight afforded to her by her stature over the majority of the crowd. Sitting upon one of the seats Marisol was plainly making for, was Eposi; patient but clearly discontent.

Revenants' regrets! she silently cursed. Quick! Think of something! "Ah, perhaps we ought to... erm, sit over there instead," the knight babbled out in proposal. "It would be better as... as... it grants a better view of the band."

"Well if your so partial to it..."

"I am," Zaida said hastily but hopefully not too eagerly. Her hopes, however, were dashed as she observed the crowd shifting. It altered such that a glaring line of sight was opened up between where the woman she was with would be, and where the woman she ought to be with already was. Zaida's panic rose; her mind thinking at speeds nearly on par with those she experienced in combat.

Okay, okay, think. There's no good ending to this with both of them in the same place; one's got to go. Marisol just got here, and I've already danced with Eposi, so there's a fair chance I can sway her toward finding a new venue. Yes, that ought to work.

"Why don't you go ahead and have a seat," the knight said to Marisol, staying behind as travelled another pace before stopping and turning. "I'll be with you shortly."

"Leaving me again?" Marisol said with affected disappointment. "Whatever for this time?"

"I need to relieve myself." Can it work on her too?

"All right, but don't leave me for as long this time. I'd rather not be stranded so long I need rescuing again," she jested.

That excuse really is limitless in its efficacy with humans.

As was turning into a habit with her, Zaida slipped away from her date; vanishing herself amongst the ample bodies of merry commoners. She took the long way around to Eposi, following a route that would make it the most difficult to track her. She would have to be careful once she reached the other woman. The problem of visibility still stood. With any luck, she would be able to convince Eposi to follow her to a new setting before Marisol ever had the chance to spy either of them.

"Agh," Tivra groaned as she dug at her eyes with the heels of her palms. Standing guard, sitting around on the chance that some drunk ass picked a fight, it was ****. Boredom was the most constant of threats to a sentry, but the nights of the Harvest Season Festival were when it turned lethal. It was insufferably tantalising to stand around while others frolicked and socialised. Normally she could withstand the ache by conversing with a fellow corps member, or perhaps even a given citizen, but between the mania of the night and the guards being spread so thin, she was left to fend off discontentment on her own.

It did not help that this was a night when getting laid was a given for anyone interested - that much was the same no matter if one was speaking of before or after the decrees. And so it was that every scanty outfit, clingy couple, and suggestive look that passed served to stoke and burgeon her frustrations.

I could swear it wasn't this bad... she groaned in her own head. It had been a good three years - with emphasis on good - since she had been harrowed in this manner. Perhaps she had forgotten the agony, or maybe she had suppressed it. She was on the verge of knocking her head against a wall to improve her condition when someone ran up to her.

"Sis, you gotta come, like, right now!" Ahmed insisted. "Some guy with no mellow is turning this party into a bad-feels timeout for everyone close enough to hold conference!"

"A fight?" Tivra exclaimed, alarm erasing her immediate memory of boredom. "Where?"

"This way!" Ahmed charged off with his comrade close behind.

The pair made their way as quickly as possible. Some of the roads were so dense that they practically had to swim their way to the scene. The busyness of the festival only opened up once they drew closer to the scuffle than any bystanders dared to.

Tivra and Ahmed arrived to find a robust-looking man holding his own against a duo of behemoths that nearly made him appear unremarkable by comparison. Amongst the innermost onlookers were tense expressions of those weighing the possibility of involving themselves. Behind them stood those confident enough, naïve enough, or interested enough to hold ringside perspectives of the spectacle. Next back were the motley bystanders possessing the traits of the previous grouping in smaller helpings. Members of each of these subdivisions took notice of the two uniformed guards arriving on the scene.

"HALT!" Tivra roared over the din at the tusseling trio.

The least sizable of the three took notice of the call and looked toward her. He noted her uniform and stepped away from his opponents, hands raised in armistice. This was seemingly at odds with the interests of his adversaries, as they gave no quarter; closing the gap and delivering additional blows. After catching the first few, the lone man accepted that his truce had been rejected and returned to the skirmish with gusto.

"I SAID HALT!" Tivra repeated. She and Ahmed **** aside those in the crowd not wise enough to have already displaced themselves. Still her order fell on indifferent ears. Get out of the way, damned blighters! This needs to stop before anyone else gets hurt!

Yorresie marched through the festival, her hand clasped tight around Broomi's to prevent the clamourous crowds from parting them. Her head was on a swivel; searching less for a particular face and more for a particular silhouette in the sea of bustling costumes and fervour. She began to notice how she and her fellow servant of Geod were the only ones travelling up the street, all others moving opposite. The reason for this was manifest when they arrived at the ring of spectators. Craning over the common folk, she saw what was clearly the city guard terminating a brawl.

Two from the corps were forcing back a pair of exceptionally large commoners. They had not been fighting one another though. Rather, they both had been after the same opponent; a man that Yorresie was quite confident she recognised as an out-of-uniform royal knight.

"Calm down! CALM DOWN!" one of the Merridian knights barked at the giants. She and her comrade wrestled the bigger duo back from their target. "You had better knock it off real quickly, or else this'll be the end of your Festival here and now!"

Finally taking the hint, the commoners begrudgingly swallowed their ire, unwilling to forsake the remaining week's worth of celebration over one especially vexing prick.

Still watching from the thinner crowd, Yorresie witnessed the royal knight make a provocative face at his adversaries from behind the other knights' backs. She also noticed the way the giants' body language tell of how they too saw this yet refrained from giving in to the taunt. They turned their backs on the whole ordeal and chose to get on with their night.

Understanding that the spectacle was over, the body of onlookers dispersed; off in search of the next most interesting thing the festival had to offer. With the matter handled, the guards too set to return to their posts.

"Hold on, hold on!" a commoner with a bloody nose protested. "That fucker's sent least half a dozen to the healers tonight!" He stabbed an accusing finger at the royal knight. "And you lot are just going to let him walk?" A handful of voices scattered amongst those remaining rose in concurrence.

Eyes turned to the pair of Merridian knights, who themselves turned to the royal knight for an explanation.

"Leaving out the part where I was defending myself, aren't you, friend?" he asked the commoner with a quizzical eyebrow.

"Bollocks, you dickhead!" a different commoner scoffed. "What part of 'self defense' has you mashing on someone's face like you're trying to cave their skull?" She pointed to the fresh black eye and bruises on her face. The remainder of the crowd quickly dissolved into chaos as everyone attempted to place blame for the recent row.

"EVERYBODY SHUT IT!" boomed a commanding voice over it all.

All turned to find Marama fresh on the scene, and already embittered by what he found.

"Tonight is meant to be a good time for everyone, and you lot are here putting in the work to spoil it!" he went on. "I may not look it right now, but I'm a sergeant in the Order of Dyna, so when I tell you that we're going to have a talk with our suspects, and the rest of you are going to get on with yourselves, YOU'D BETTER BLOODY WELL LIKE IT." He marched up to Tivra. "Who are our suspects?"

She quickly picked out the royal knight and those who had most obviously been trading blows with him.

"Right, now the rest of you can shove off!" the sergeant bellowed.

The plebeians left, but the nun and the confessor remained.

"Sergeant?" Yorresie called out. "Sergeant, a moment, if I may." She caught them before the guards and their suspects could head off.

"Sister, if you don't mind, I've neither the time nor the patience for a lecture on conduct," Marama said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry you had to witness what you did tonight, but I promise, Dyna's people are working hard to make sure this is the only surprise we see this week."

The absolute presumptuousness of this man... Yorresie silently bemoaned. "No, that's not it. I wanted to ask your direction toward another of your kind. Do you know where I may find Zaida this evening?"

"Oh, well I'm not entirely certain - seeing as she has the night off - but if you should happen to find Miss Nsukula, I imagine she won't be far off."

The tall Merridian knight furrowed her brow. "What makes you say that?"

"Um, because she's on a date with Eposi tonight, Tivra," Marama explained as if it were obvious.

"What? No, she's with Palacio tonight," Tivra corrected. "I saw them by the games earlier."

"Wait, are we talking about the awesome heroine that saved the train?" the other Merridian knight interjected. "Sis, I think I saw her with somebody else."

"Whom?"

"Dunno," he shrugged, "some bossy lady with lots of freckles."

"Brown hair?" Tivra clarified. "Acted like she owned the city?"

"Didn't get to hear quite that much from her, but that sounds right," he nodded.

"Dvorah..." Tivra's gaze was on the ground, her mind busy. "Then Zaida's in a polycule with the three of them?" She looked to Marama and the other one for confirmation.

"I only ever saw or heard of her being with Eposi," the sergeant shared.

"Same here," the other man nodded. "But for this Dvorah."

A small smirk touched Tivra's features, a huff of a snicker left her nose. "Then you don't think that... that Zaida would... without..." Realisation dawned on the group, but it shone brightest on Tivra, whose eyes widened and grin stretched. "NO WAY. Our little Zaida not so shy after all? Playing three hands all at the same time? Oh, that dirty girl!" she exclaimed in amused shock. "Ah, just wait till Edie hears about this; girl'll laugh herself sore. But this doesn't help you..." Tivra trailed off as she tured back toward Yorresie, only to find that the nun had already stomped off.