Who. Two NPC's employed by Moriarty (plus NPC's Charlotte Evans & Mallory "Frost" Reynolds) What. Willa Thompson captures the queen and checkmates Where. Camelot castle and the half-rebuilt Camelot Enterprises in London When. Saturday night, December 7th 2013 Warnings. Mentions of violence and character deaths
The battle between Camelot and the Resistance the day before had been one for the reincarnated history books. Enemy against enemy, heavy losses on both sides, fighting tooth and nail just to get under the other's skin. There were no greater foes, but tonight? There was no one more dangerous. No one more dangerous than her.
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He made his way to the Camelot Enterprises building in London, the structure still recovering from the explosion it had suffered at Resistance hands earlier in the year. That wasn't what he was here for tonight, he was here on an errand. When the mistress of crime assigned you a job, you did it or you made your peace with this world. He hid in the shadows, waiting for his moment.
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She crept through the halls of the castle without a sound. Camelot castle was full of light and laughter on its good days, but even a shining beacon like this had its shadows. Shadows was where she thrived. And shadows was where she'd find her target. Whatever Thompson wanted, those employed by her would see to it that she got it. That was just how the game worked.
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"Hello?" The nervous voice of Charlotte Evans echoed in the empty, half-plastered front hall of the Enterprises lobby. She was here tonight following a well-placed hunch, more calculated than even the princess could guess. How could she know she was walking right into the spider's web? Few ever did. A couple more delicate steps around the corner and the next sound was a gun shot, and a thud as Charlotte's body dropped to the floor.
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People in the castle were still recovering. Wounds still being licked, comfort being given. No one noticed when the woman who had been posing as one of them for months slipped by and out of sight, heading straight for the security department. "Frost", as they called her, was in her office, strapped to that dreaming machine as she always was late at night. It only took one pull of the plug to ensure that the woman Camelot's leader had grown so fond of was lost forever in the depths of her own dreams.
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In the comfort of her own study, Willa Thompson smiled coldly.