Dying is easy, young man. Living is harder.

[attr="class","landfill-scroll"]When a shot rang out not a second later, it made Artemis's heart stop. She'd seen death before, lived in a specific bubble of this world where it happened all the time. But ever since she'd become a solider, there hadn't been many moments where someone's death didn't depend on her actions. When a comrade was wounded, she could haul them over her shoulder and bring them to safety, and when an enemy pleaded for forgiveness -

Well.

Clearly not everyone had the same ideals. A dark burning instilled itself in her chest as she looked upon the Agent. At least it had ended quickly for him, his eyes almost peaceful - still in relief from when she had taken pity on him. It made her stomach churn with a sickness, which turned into a mighty acid as the voice of the attacker rang out. She slowly looked up, her eye falling upon just who had caused this to happen.

That arrogance, she knew it very well. She'd seen it on so many of his color, those dark tentacles with the figure of seaweed sprouting near. Artemis usually kept to herself with these opinions, but not when they thought it was their right to get into what was her business, her territory. She would take orders, carry them out one way or another, but she would not be treated like a helpless pet that needed to be constantly trained.

A heavy, tense silence hung in the air after Crow's words. Then, Artemis moved. Carefully. Her hands clenched into fists by her sides, her boots clashing against the inked pavement. She didn't increase her pace, even as her heart started to beat faster with wrath as she came upon the male, towering over him. The only sounds she gave away were the filtered breaths through her mask.

"You."

Her fingers itched, and she grabbed him by his shirt then, not roughly - not pulling him in. She did not want to harm her own kind. But he needed to pay attention. "Did that Inkling look in any way a threat to me or you, from where you were standing? Could you - one of the elite - not see the way his shoulders were sagged? How loose his grip was?"

[attr="class","landfill-scroll"]Her grip only tightened against his hands on her wrist, gaze not faltering. His words, defensive and enraged did little to quell her skepticism of the fellow Octoling. "So, this is what they are allowing into the 'elite' now." She said first, her voice a little distant, as if she was somewhere else before refocusing back on Crow.

"You are talking about things that you do not understand. He had surrendered to me, and was a weaker opponent. To kill someone like that - without giving them a chance to defend themselves....how dishonorable. You are falling into the trap that the enemy often leads one to." Though late, she did take heed to his request, letting him go. Artemis thought he might run, as the dishonorable often do.

"And to not make contact with your comrade first? What were you thinking. He could've been giving me useful information." The woman cared not for his snide remark of leaving them alone, it only further proved what she already thought of him. And she preferred to be alone, either way. "Your actions were careless and unnecessary. I suggest you do not have such a trigger happy finger in the future."

[attr="class","landfill-scroll"]The woman's wrath had long since faded to a dull ache, in it's wake a curiosity she couldn't help about the male Octoling. This wasn't new to her, not by a long shot, but it was different when she looked about his age, if not a few years younger. Sometimes, that meant they still had room to change. Artemis herself had already outgrown her 'changing' stage, stubborn and bull-headed to a fault.

Well, it would be a fault if she wasn't in the right. "I will not thank you when you killed for no reason at all. Don't think I cannot see that look in your eyes." She paused, narrowing her eyes at him and leaning in so that he could see his expression clearly even in the darkness. "You killed because you like to. Not because you had to. Do you think I have not felt the rage you have felt? The urge to wipe their species from this land, when they have made us suffer so?"

The scar across her eye - surely it would speak for her, if he wasn't as much as a fool as she thought. Though perhaps she should not be giving the man the benefit of the doubt. "Hear me. You will not get anywhere in this life if you rank your confidence by the amount of blood on your hands." Artemis felt that was enough, and took a step back, putting distance between the two of them. She nodded, signaling she was done with this petty argument, and brushed past him.

[attr="class","landfill-scroll"]She stopped in her tracks at the hand on her shoulder, listening to him as he went on, the expression on her face blank. When it seemed he was done, his hissed breaths calming the slightest bit, she turned her head to look directly at him. Her body soon followed, and she lifted up a cold hand to grab at the one on her shoulder, attempting to remove it without having to wrench it off violently. "I know how to tell when someone is going to kill me. I would have never let my guard down if I wasn't absolutely sure." Artemis explained to him.

"I consider it an insult that you would think differently of me, a fellow soldier. But I will let it slide." She never considered herself a generous person, so he would only get two strikes, not three. "I did not say anything about knowing your motivation. I know we are but strangers." With a sigh, she raised a single brow, her next words clearly insincere because she lacked tact, but she wanted to try anyway, to rid herself of what was becoming a time wasting event.

"Thank you for trying to do what you thought was helping. I suppose it is better that you direct your strange...feelings, to our cause, rather than to backstabbing." The thought of having the elite Octoling as a comrade made her wary, but she said nothing of it. He seemed difficult, uncooperative. But so were all the others of his rank. Artemis had to admit he was at least somewhat better, with the fact that he had the intelligence to defend himself with words, not violence.

[attr="class","landfill-scroll"]Confused by his words, she for once didn't have much of a response. She was content with leaving it there, before he perked up again with another insult to her capabilities. She gritted her teeth behind her mask. She was the one that needed saving? Before he could get too far, her arm outstretched and caught him by the back of his shirt, straining only slightly as she lifted him off the ground. With only a moment's hesitation, she threw him on the concrete, splattered with the remains of the battle before. Her movements neared mechanical. She was used to this.

"Fight me." Artemis told him, words abrupt. "If you think you are powerful enough to 'save' me, surely you are powerful enough to defeat me as well." She didn't step forward to take advantage of the fact that he was now on the floor, but instead backwards, letting him prepare however he wanted for his next move. With a blink, she gave him a skeptical look. "Unless, you are more scared of your own comrade than killing in cold-blood." The provoke was so predictable, and yet, Artemis found it worked on his type more often than not.

[attr="class","landfill-scroll"]It was even more peculiar - how her actions caused outcry from the male Octoling. She tilted her head to the side in curiosity, letting him pick himself off the ground, her faded green eye following. "Hmm." She started, seemingly not caring for his next insult, even if that was the reason she had started the scuffle in the first place. "You think you are above consequences." It was a statement, not a question. For that could be the only answer.

He would willingly speak his mind, throwing curses left and right, but seemed surprised whenever someone had the gall to do the same to him. Had he been sheltered? No, that couldn't be it. Soldiers rarely were. Perhaps he was simply a loner - had lost the ones he loved. Considering his hatred for Inklings, she wouldn't put the possibility past him.

She felt a pang of pity for him, if it were the case, but pushed it away. Artemis folded her arms, fixing him with a piercing look, as if trying to see into his thoughts. "You think proving one's skill in the face of mockery is moronic. Why? Explain." As she watched his face carefully, she let a red brow raise once again. She was however, genuinely interested in the answer he would give.