Clarissa & Malachi | Hallways
Clary did not like her position as she looked up at him from the ground. That did not going the way she had planned it. The attacker grinned at her with perverse pleasure as he moved to bring his foot down on her body. Clary was already moving to roll out from underneath him when she was showered with blood. She gasped as she looked up to see him falling to the side with his head three-quarters of the way off his shoulders. The sword embedded in his neck gave away who owned it. She sighed as she pushed herself to her feet before looking down at her ruined clothing. Clary didn’t look up at Malachi when he came up beside her.
"Not my fault you weren’t around when I practiced throwing the night before that." She told him as she pulled the sword for from the damaged wound. Clary didn’t always carry a full sized sword. She was deadly enough with a couple daggers anyway. But since his second one was available now she would take it. Clearly swung the weapon around her hand to feel the weight. The move made it overly obvious that she was very that she was trained. Some men found it intimidating, others found it a challenge.
Clary started to move again when she felt a tug on her long skirt. Apparently one of the men she had already dealt with wasn’t quiet dead and had grabbed the flowing fabric, though it was already weighted with blood. It only took a flick of the sword to end him. She sighed as she sliced the skirt up the side. Clary nearly always wore fitted booty shorts under her skirts and dresses, just in case. As the blood soaked fabric came off Clary hesitated just a moment, looking at the blood. "Thanks for this" She told him sarcastically as she indicated the ruined clothing.
"Shall we?" she asked him as she looked up at him. When clary and Malachi fought together it was like a choreographed dance. A damn deadly dance.