Alicia wasted no time bounding to their comrade, fingers sliding her hair back and barely touching her earring. The jewel piece grew in size, transforming into a silver long staff.
Gripping the lower tip of the familiar cool metal with both hands, she called out “Tuck and roll!” and with a surprising act of instantaneous synchronization, Petricia ducked into a ball and pushed off into a backwards somersault as Alicia jumped and swung down her weapon.
The Ace blocked the high attack with her quick reflexes, pushing Alicia away from her only to have to parry a jab from Petricia. The sound of footsteps could be heard rushing towards the hall, as the duo kept their opponent at bay. “Now would be a fine time to pull something out of that magical bag of yers, Surrie!”
Rummaging through the back, Surrie distractedly kicked a new guard who had shown up in the chest, the person soaring through the air and barreling into the ones now coming to the entrance. “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s not a magical bag—”
“—less details, more results. Please and thank you!”
“—and would it kill you to not be so impatient?! Spirits!” Spinning into a sweep kick and then turning a roundhouse, Surrie cried in frustration.
Petricia chuckled, also taking it as a personal achievement to have gotten under her skin; it took a lot on her part to find the right buttons to push—“So before we take our leave, I was wonderin’ somethin’. How exactly did ya know we were in disguise?” Not expecting an answer, Petricia’s grin simmered at the overconfident tone she was responded with.
“No one makes it into the ranks without getting past me. I personally select the number and quadrant a person is placed in based on their different fighting skills. Any other talents determine color choice. Those of your number cower under a single look from me. Neither of you so much as flinched at my presence; it takes a strong will to not to do so.”