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Description
Blake wiped the blood from her lips as the shadow clone vanished, glaring at the...assassins? agents? spies? before her. They'd still said nothing, but she recognized the cut of their helmets and the emblems on their uniforms.
The New Path? here?
"Stop!" She cried as they raised their weapons again "Please, stop, I'm not your enemy!"
"Oh Come now, Chieftain."

Blake felt her blood run cold as the group parted to allow another figure to step past them. Reforming behind her-there was no mistaking those curves in the skintight bodysuit- they all seemed to pose as much as glare at her.

"We all know that's a lie."

Blake's whole attention was riveted on the more mature figure, whose visible skin was changing, chameleon-like, from the same midnight black of her suit to a soft, mocha brown, dotted with spots on her cheeks as she took of her mask. A long ponytail of chocolate hair, decoratively curled, fell down her back. Her Gray eyes, full of age, angst, and years of sadness and bitter wisdom, fixed on Blake's own wide gaze. a familiar weapon uncoiled from her hand, glowing red with Dust.

"I-Ilia?!"

to the woman's right, one of the younger of the infiltrators snarled at her.
"That's Captain to you, traitor!" she snapped.
A hand gesture from Ilia calmed the...the girl, Blake saw, she couldn't have been older than fifteen- but she kept her eyes fixed on the cat faunus. She seemed to be judging her reaction.

"It's been a long time, Blake."

Description
Blake wiped the blood from her lips as the shadow clone vanished, glaring at the...assassins? agents? spies? before her. They'd still said nothing, but she recognized the cut of their helmets and the emblems on their uniforms.
The New Path? here?
"Stop!" She cried as they raised their weapons again "Please, stop, I'm not your enemy!"
"Oh Come now, Chieftain."

Blake felt her blood run cold as the group parted to allow another figure to step past them. Reforming behind her-there was no mistaking those curves in the skintight bodysuit- they all seemed to pose as much as glare at her.

"We all know that's a lie."

Blake's whole attention was riveted on the more mature figure, whose visible skin was changing, chameleon-like, from the same midnight black of her suit to a soft, mocha brown, dotted with spots on her cheeks as she took of her mask. A long ponytail of chocolate hair, decoratively curled, fell down her back. Her Gray eyes, full of age, angst, and years of sadness and bitter wisdom, fixed on Blake's own wide gaze. a familiar weapon uncoiled from her hand, glowing red with Dust.

"I-Ilia?!"

to the woman's right, one of the younger of the infiltrators snarled at her.
"That's Captain to you, traitor!" she snapped.
A hand gesture from Ilia calmed the...the girl, Blake saw, she couldn't have been older than fifteen- but she kept her eyes fixed on the cat faunus. She seemed to be judging her reaction.

"It's been a long time, Blake."