vs. Violeta

Violeta | Level 100 Inquisitor

Shld: 1100/1100 | Str: 150+100 | Def: 110+90 | Agi: 40 |AP: 110/110

*Equipped: Dark Plate, Cutting Sword, Violeta’s Contraption.

Zorro and I had hopped behind the bar during all the ra-tata-tas.

“She called me the slayer of rats… I have another title!!!” It’s kinda grungy, but... actually, it’s a hundred percent grungy - wait, no, that title’s actual garbage.

Violeta drops her birdcage. 

“Go, Pidgey.” she says, and releases the turtledove. It flutters towards the Imperia camp.

This tavern’s in a state of disaster. Tables toppled, barrels cracked, glass shattered and scattered over a charred and splintered floor. Zorro and I look like unruly patrons who’d been in a barfight; Max and Giselle are as limp as dead drunks.

Violeta, meanwhile, is impeccably well-kept. Her poise and dress would be perfect for a high-class restaurant. An open-carry one, since she has a gun.

“Violeta, long time no see.” Zorro peers from our barricade. “Now, I’d love to catch up, but me and Maru have to be somewhere soon, so why don’t we talk some other-”

*RA-TA-TA-TA!*

Zorro ducks, bullet-holes above her head.

“If you’re looking for the Golden Crown Violeta, Zorro doesn’t have it.” I say helpfully. “You can search our bags, our clothes, we’ll happily oblige.”

Maru? Zorro gives me questioning eyes.

She’s someone with whom we can negotiate , I eye back.

“A strip search? Y-you just want to look at me naked!”

“You’re worried about that?

*BANG!* Violeta fires on the unresponsive Max. *BANG!* Violeta shoots the limp Giselle, both in the forehead.

“I’m not searching for treasure,” Violeta says. “I’m here to bring peace.”

She draws a sword, dual-wielding. “Citizens get flowers, thieves get thorns. And you, Zorro, are worse than a thief. You’re a deserter.”

“You’re a thick-skulled numbskull.” Zorro replies. “A wanna-be cowgirl who’s actually a cow!”

“I disagree.” She sprays at Zorro’s shoulder - 1DAMAGE1DAMAGE1DAMAGE1 - and the force makes Zorro fall backwards.

Plates, knives, forks, I throw at Violeta everything but the kitchen sink, and she deflects it all. While Zorro casts a fireball Violeta, I sneak to a corner - but a pellet sinks into me, and I’m forced to retreat. Zorro and I find ourselves hiding behind the bar’s stone counter, peering out and popping down again like moles.

“I’m disappointed in you Zorro. When you left the Inquisition, you said that you fight best alone… and yet you’ve stolen the Rat-Slayer from me.”

“Hey, this ‘Rat-Slayer’ can make his own choices you know…” I say. But just her gun is what replies - RATATATATATATATAATA.

“You’ve got new powers and a new partner, but your old problems will always remain,” Violeta’s voice rings out to Zorro. “You don’t have a home here, and you won’t ever be able to construct another - I’ll make sure of that.”

Zorro closes her eyes. “Maru… I’ll charge at her when I count to 3. You run out the door, I’ll strike, okay?”

She clutches her broke sword’s hilt as if it could give her comfort

A deep breath. “1… 2…-” She says, and I take her hand.

“We’re two people traveling the same path. Why part ways now?” I say.

It’s a strange sort of half-smile that appears on Zorro’s face, but it’s a smile nonetheless.

“If we move beyond the counter, we’ll be shot. If we wait, then other Imperia soldiers will show up.” I say.

“I’m telling you, it doesn’t matter if other Imperia soldiers come,” Zorro says. “When have minions ever changed the tide of a war?”

When it comes to history, armies decide the victor rather than people. But when it comes to anime, light novels, and JRPGs I can’t think of a time when a strong character was ever beaten by a mook. So maybe Zorro’s right not to worry about that.

“If it’s not checkmate, we’re at least in stalemate.” I say.

Violeta lowers her gun, and points at the counter with her sword.

“WATER WAVE!” An enormous spout crashes into the bar, splashing high.

She inhales deeply again and shouts, as if commanding a firing line.

“WAVE!”

This time I taste the spray - the water’s full of salt. And though we’re safe behind the bar, every time it hits -

“WAVE!” -

the bar erodes away.

“If we both attack,” says Zorro. “She can’t hit us both.”

I shake my head. That’s pretty much the same as what she suggested before. Violeta won’t hit both of us; she’ll pump bullets into Zorro, the greater threat first. Then maybe I could take my revenge in the time Violeta takes to change her aim - or I’d just also get shot by a million pellets and die.

“Alcohol,” I say.

“Alcohol?” She asks. “Now’s not the time for drinking-”

“WATER WAVE!”

Another spinning-water funnel slams the bar; stone chips fly from the countertop and we’re showered in water and rock.

I crawl over to the drinks. It’s mostly a pile of glass shards, but I find an intact wine.

“Papers. Napkins. I need them. Zorro, where are they?”

The napkins here are all soaked through; there’s dry ones on the tables, but if I reached for one my hand would be pelleted clean off.

Zorro pulls from her pocket a food-stained poster.

WANTED

Zorro

A menacing-blonde haired killer capable of slaying 1,000 men!

Report her whereabouts to Violeta of Rosa Imperia. 400 emprientesfor information leading to her arrest-

I snatch it, roll it up, pop the wine-cork - it fizzes gently - and jam it into the bottle.

The liquid gradually wicks up the page.

“We’re running out of time,” Zorro says. She casts a fireball over the top, but it’s ameliorated by another WATER WAVE! that creates cracks in the stone.

She conjures another fire-ball, and I grasp her hand. “W-what are you doing Maru?”

I guide it so that it wraps around the poster and sets it alight.

“Making a cocktail,” I say.

“A-a cocktail?” Zorro says, puzzled. “What kind?”

“Molotov,” I reply and toss the bomb.

The lit bottle smacks Violeta, shatters, and sets her ablaze. 3 damage! 3 damage! 3 damage! 3 damage!

She vanishes in a puff of light and smoke.

“Come, Zorro.” I grab her and go, pulling her towards the door.

“You’ve burned her? But how?”

“I haven’t, really-”

RATATATAATATATATATATATATA - bullets emerge from the cloud.

I push Zorro, we hit the floor. And now we crawl.

“When I fought the King Rat, I kept trying to set him on fire, and it smoldered away, though I could burn the rats. The fireball I slammed Giselle’s face with didn’t take either. Shields that cover bodies aren’t flammable.” I say.

“Oh. I knew that.” says Zorro. “Why’d you make it seem like you were doing something different and cool?”

“We doused her in alcohol, so the alcohol’s ablaze instead. She’s not incapacitated, but she should be taking heavy damage...”

“BUBBLE!” A muffled, choking voice comes from the inferno. The flames quickly vanish and there’s nothing left but a heavy smoke as a soapy circle ensconces her.

“...or not,” I say.

“...yeah, Maru, her arts focus on water.”

“I knew that much myself!”

Despite Violeta freeing herself from the flames, embers catch quickly on the sticky floorboards and the meat-greased tables. We drag ourselves forward, while Violeta sprays blindly at vacant tabletops

“Why? Why is it that you think you just quit the Inquisition? What kind of arrogance, what kind of self-importance allows you just up and leave when you get an order with which you disagree!?”

RATATATATATATATATATATATATAA - bullets swing through the door. Anyone who’d gone through it would’ve been pelted by a hail of thousand shots.

However, we’ve snuck up the stairs, and we drop from our inn room’s window.

Even outside, we’re not alone. A column of rose-marked Imperia guardsman with spears and crossbows march from the East down the road, the rising sun behind them. The white bird ‘Pidgey’ rests on their leader’s gauntlet.

At an arm’s-length is a familiar face.

“My inn… oh, my inn…” says Ganeleon, peering inside. “Violeta, you promised me that the Imperia would let me keep my tavern… why would you do this?”

The fire joyously ravages the building.

“G-Ganeleon…” Zorro says in what’s supposed to be a confrontational voice but comes out more as a whisper. She mutters something else, but to all that comes out is a series of faint squeaking.

“Z-Zorro! I’m afraid you misunderstand me. This inn is a pillar of the community…! I had no choice but to give you away!” Ganeleon says.

“You can’t hide from justice, Zorro!” Violeta calls herself hoarse amidst a cloud of smoke, vapor, and surging flames. But much like justice, Violeta’s also blind. She must think that we’re inside.

“Traitors are worse than thieves, is that right?” I mutter, and shove Ganeleon into the burning morass. I bang the door with my palm, drawing attention.

Rat-a-ta-tat-at-ata, the pellet-gun goes, and Ganeleon cries out in pain. “What are you doing, Violeta?! Shoot them, not me!”

There’s no time for further vengeance. The soldiers’ march has turned into a rapid pursuit; at the vanguard is a man with a dark bags under his eyes and a black feather plume.

“Zorro and accomplice! Cease your action immediately!”

Meanwhile, Violeta herself emerges from the inside - cloak ruined, and an ugly expression on her mien.

“Maru, the horse, the horse! Get the horse to move!” Zorro shouts.

The mare whinnies and bobs its head, as if in agreement.

“I know how to make torches, not ride horses!”

However, as the feather-helmed Imperia army swarms towards us like a flock of murderous crows, and as Violeta readies her weapon, with Zorro in her sights - the horse rears and shudders.

It flees miraculously north as if it knows we’re in danger.

Clomp-clomp-clomp-clomp-clomp; the ropes connecting the horse-and-cart wildly oscillate and strain.

The soldiers yell, and halt. Violeta swears - “By the name of the Empress” - and fires a final volley.

THUK!

It goes wide, but tears into our barrel - water flows from the breach, til two-thirds soak into the cart’s wood.

We’re too far to retaliate; but they’re far away too, and finally we make it out of town.

“Atta girl, horsie.” I tell the mare. “Knew you were on our side…”

I frown. Something about how the prairie shimmers and hazes as I gaze at our third animal party-member just seems… off.

“Guess we won’t be seeing Bertie for breakfast.” says Zorro. “I hope he won’t be too mad… “

“...And in the end I don’t think we helped out much around town either.” She murmurs. “I wish we could explain what happened.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” I say. “Even a horse can’t be what it seems in Kameleon Town, can it?”

“Perhaps not,” Bertrand says, sitting there and steering the steed.