[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/vzxvCpR.jpg[/img]
[h3][b][color=DAA520]Camelot[/color][/b][/h3][/center]

[color=DAA520]"[i]Yoo[/i]-che-che-cha!"[/color] Camelot hissed, pinwheeling her right arm, as her other jerked her back upright from the throw. She winced at the slight protestation of metal, as her left hand gripped ever so slightly tighter in its efforts to keep her from hurling her whole body off with her sword. Heart beating a tad faster in her chest, Camelot's free hand returned to tending to her wind-buffeted hair, as the pit in her stomach smoothed away.

In all honesty, if there was ever a visceral fear she had ever held near -if not very dear- to her heart, it was falling to death. Above and beyond nearly any other end she could possibly meet, it was her most mortal terror several years back. Getting attacked by a monster or wild animal? Sure, bad stuff, but at least you could run away or fight back. Falling from a great height? That was the peak of helplessness. It was a death you could see coming from miles away and yet have zero power to stop. Even just seeing someone else in a position to fall from a so much as [i]potentially[/i] deadly height was enough to make her toes curl in fear.

Becoming a Magical Girl had helped. A [i]lot[/i]. Knowing that she was durable and agile beyond compare. Knowing that even if she landed wrong, she could survive as long as it didn't instantaneously kill her? That helped. Still didn't stop her first few forays into the world of super-strength parkour and roof-hopping from being far more terrifying than her poker face would ever reveal.

Climbing Big Ben for the first time, way back when she had first moved to London, had been as much about the thrill of doing something no regular person could as it was to overcome her utter terror. And nowadays, with two years of experience with life-or-death scenarios under her belt, she could look to the people counting on her, swallow that fear and...

[i]Jump.[/i]

Frigid coastal wind whistled in her ears, as she arced through London's sky. It wasn't the furthest distance that she could have cleared, but leaping with her full strength behind it would likely have seriously damaged the top of Big Ben. As the ground rapidly approached, she tucked her legs in, rolling her body, before extending her legs again in an angled plank to the ground in preparation for contact. 

In the distance, she could feel the crescendo of her comrades' powers, as her fellow Magical Girls unleashed everything upon the massive Pageless. Though she had already dropped too low to see what exactly was occurring anymore, she'd had enough of a glimpse before her leap to know that Excalibur had struck true... if not particularly effectively. But it had provided exactly the critical time they needed. With Lumiere able to personally reach the fresh Magical Girl, they'd have been able to remove her from danger and finally stop playing defense.

After that, with Lumiere on the scene, victory was all but assured.

The ground encroached, and Camelot kicked out, extending her arms back, hands braced to absorb some of the force her legs were about to take. Sparks flew, as enchanted steel-clad heels skidded along the street. Allowing her momentum to resolve, her knees bent, and Camelot tucked and rolled, sighting the rooftops, before planting her skidding boots carefully against the street and leaping again.

Not all her prior momentum was lost to her, but she had still redirected very little if any into her new course out of caution. Certainly, while she could go yet faster still, the property damage would be noticeable and personally unacceptable. Super strength to any serious capacity was a responsibility to be carefully managed. It didn't exactly come with an instruction booklet, and she'd had to learn through trial and error... and a lot of collateral damage more than anything else. Nowadays, it was nearly trivial to hold back, but that still didn't mean she could simply pull off some of the more ridiculous speedster and strongman feats out of sheer physics.

Well, [i]technically[/i], she could totally bring other people with her while moving at top speed, but she couldn't imagine they'd survive the violent whiplash unless they were extraordinarily lucky or she was in a position to be [i]extremely[/i] careful. Humans were some of the most strangely resilient -and yet equally fragile- creatures around, and as one of their sworn protectors, she had to be mindful of that. That had led her to long nights spent studying biology and physics, struggling to understand where exactly the line was. She'd never been the most academically inclined; her talents had always lied strictly within the martial... much to her parents' disappointment.

But that was neither here nor there.

These days, she was [i]finally[/i] doing something that she was [i]good[/i] at, even if she didn't necessarily like everything about it. Helping people was one thing. Putting her life on the line was another. And yet, what did it say about her that for all her fear of death, she never hesitated once when it came to using her power for the sake of others? Good things maybe? She felt others might say so, but it felt almost ingenuine to accept such praise, when she wasn't even sure if she was really doing this to help others or just to live out her superhero fantasies.

Steel-clad feet clanking against the London rooftops in a pounding hurried rhythm, she was close to the battle now, moments away, and she could see the newbie precariously clinging high above to the shaft of a flying broom, practically [i]bleeding[/i] mana into the air around her, as she wound up for what would clearly be a massive blow against the Pageless. A note of confusion bled into Camelot's mind, wondering for what [i]possible[/i] good and holy reason Lumiere had let the novice out of her reach. And yet, despite the angelic Magical Girl clearly not being occupied with her new charge, the Pageless still existed! Was the Pageless they were fighting seriously that strong? Surely not!

What if Lumiere had been injured somehow keeping the newbie safe? But Captain Goodhope was there, and she could heal her... But what if she was also hurt or running low on mana?

[i]Fuck it.[/i]

The next leap was with nearly her full strength behind it, the rooftop beneath her noisily crumbling, tiles flying off wildly, as she arced high through the air just in time for a titanic cyclone of water to rip downwards from the witch-looking new girl's hand, impacting the Pageless with all the force of Poseidon's personal attention. The beast that had supposedly been giving half a dozen Magical Girls issues crumpled under the assault like wet tissue paper, steel warping and shrieking, as its entire body was rent in two, the head and torso entirely obliterated. With a ghostly death rattle, the remains of the giant Pageless began to dissolve into the air alongside the similarly dissipating torrent of water.

Turning her gaze away from the spectacle, Camelot sighted the ground and made sure she wasn't about to land on anyone. That happened to be a negative, despite all the Magical Girls present, and she allowed herself to feel a small thrill when her arc resolved, landing with a short sharp crack of steel boots and gauntlets against concrete just within the bounds of the construction site. Standing up from her all-fours crouch, she panned her vision over the present Magical Girls and found herself having to sharply restrain a frown.

Lilac Shimmer was merely disarmed of her blade and looking a bit ruffled. Dynasty Queen was looking as carelessly unconcerned as ever... if a bit soaked from the new girl's attack. Stripes had disappeared to who-the-hell-knows-where but had been apparently unharmed last she'd seen her a mere minute or so ago. Ethereal Rose and her eldritch hubby weren't looking so much as phased by anything that had occurred, utterly spotless the both of them... or whatever passed for spotless on a Lovecraftian monstrosity. The mystery fox-eared Magical Girl was looking okay too; and on that note, it did appear that her fires were gone. Whether they were short-lived or had been extinguished by her will was unknown, but it still came at much relief nonetheless. The last thing they needed was to be firefighting right now... even if the new girl was practically ready-made for such a scenario.

And Lumiere and Goodhope were... just fine.

Not that she wanted them to be hurt -the opposite as it happened, but the fact that Goodhope seemed merely exhausted and Lumiere fresh as a daisy did not reflect well on the reasoning behind the latter clearly [i]deliberately[/i] allowing a complete novice to risk their life against a foe that could have killed veterans. If only she had been able to be here... If only being here in time wouldn't have meant the doom of [color=DAA520]her people[/color] at the Round Table. Mixed gratitude and wariness towards the Grand Minister warred unseen within her, as she outwardly merely pursed her lips.

[color=DAA520]"Sorry I'm late. I was held up dealing with the stragglers elsewhere in the city,"[/color] she said simply, unable to help some chilliness sinking into her tone when her eyes flicked past Lumiere, as she strode towards where Excalibur was buried half-way to the hilt in the ground. Taking hold of the hilt, the glowing holy sword slid free as if a knife from melting butter. Glancing up at the still helplessly dangling newbie, Camelot frowned and moved to stand underneath where the girl was floating, hoping to be able to catch her if she didn't manage to get a handle on controlling her broom or otherwise lost grip.

She halfway considered asking Lumiere if she'd be obliged to give the poor thing a hand, but had to restrain a scoff upon further thought. The angel's idealistic "trial by fire" style of care was hardly difficult to pick up on if one had spent any length of time with her. Problem being, of course, regardless of how lucky they'd gotten with the newbie's initial strength, she was still [i]inexperienced[/i]. And further, regardless of any innate instinct inherent in her abilities, most Magical Girls really didn't take their first transformations seriously, didn't really appreciate the very real danger they were in through the dream-like haze. There were far too many risks inherent for anyone even remotely responsible to be okay with doing anything other than safely tucking away the newcomer until they could actually experiment with and understand their limits.

[i]Honestly[/i], these girls weren't soldiers by any stretch of the imagination, and not even [i]soldiers[/i] were thrown into the meat grinder without meeting complete and exacting standards. But Marrywell Academy -and the Grand Ministry by extension- seemed to think the best thing to do was to simply throw the girls at any problem that appeared and then pray that they just... "figured something out", relying on friendship and comradery to win the day like the tired old cliches of every mahou shoujou show ever.

To be fair, this had somehow been actually working for the most part, but Camelot felt it was entirely fair to be critical of such an oversight. After all, the Pageless had been getting more aggressive, and every new Magical Girl was now forced to deal with at least twice the troubles their seniors had before them. It was riskier now more than ever to be chosen by a Grimoire, and Camelot couldn't quite understand how this seemed to escape the perception of everyone around her. The only reason she, herself, had managed to survive this long under such lax standards was the strength of her own Grimoire and her own personally hyper-focused talent for anything martial.

Otherwise, King Arthur's Legend or not, she'd have long since perished.

These days, having overcome her own "trial by fire", Camelot had dedicated herself to being the shield of her far more naive comrades. All these girls who drank the Grand Ministry's Kool aid honestly weren't much at fault for how they went about things, considering they were stuck in a culture that overwhelmingly reinforced such reckless behavior. While Camelot had no real way to oppose the Ministry or force them to change their ways, she could still use her own power to stand between overwhelming danger and her comrades too young and idealistic to avoid it. She could take the blows they couldn't, shoulder the pain of injuries that would have anyone else sobbing on the ground or in shock. As long as it didn't kill her, she would heal and survive; therefore, it was her Duty, her sworn [color=DAA520][i]Oath[/i][/color], to be nothing less than the best, to train every day, to master her powers above and beyond any of her peers.

To everyone she held to be under her Aegis, whether they be a civilian or fellow light of justice, she would be their Shield and their Sword. It did not matter if they were younger or older than her, her senior or her underclassmen. She would take that position, and she would hold it down by any means necessary until such a day as the chicks she nurtured under her protection were finally fit to spread their own wings and soar. She would not allow anything as base as carelessness to end these bright-eyed young heroes' lives before their time. She swore it.

Sighing, Camelot slid Excalibur into her Scabbard, only to start slightly at a light '[i]clink[/i]' sounding out from her hip. Brows furrowing, she glanced up at the dangling girl again before looking back at her Scabbard, where Excalibur refused to fully sheathe itself, continuing to spill lesser amounts of golden light about her general area. Lightly, she drew and then attempted to sheathe the blade again, only to meet with the same light metallic ring.

Kneeling down, she slowly drew Excalibur out fully and feigned wiping the blade lightly against the edge of her royal blue cape. With her free hand, she lightly shook the Scabbard, only to hear a tinkling sound from the base, as [i]something[/i] scraped against the metal cap that served to safely blunt Excalibur's tip while sheathed. Tilting the Scabbard, she could hear the whisper of that something sliding against leather, before the object clattered to the ground with a ring.

Camelot's brows furrowed at the sight of... a coin?
[hider=Coin]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/tBpW7te.jpg?1[/img]
[/hider]
Sheathing Excalibur, this time fully, she nodded in satisfaction, pursed her lips and reached down, picking up the glimmering currency with a light [i]shink[/i] of metal scraping against concrete, as she stood once more. Turning the [color=DAA520]solidus of the realm[/color] over in her hand, she frowned at the divot that had been all too easily rent in one side by Excalibur's probing tip, as she-

[i]Solidus?[/i]

[color=DAA520]"What the hell is a solidus?"[/color] she murmured quietly, before swallowing slowly in trepidation. [color=DAA520]"And why does it feel like I'm supposed to know?"[/color] Scowling, she squeezed her eyes shut briefly and closed her fist tightly around the gold coin, minding her strength so as not to crush it.

Was she developing a new power after all this time? Sure, it wasn't exactly [i]unheard[/i] of, but most Magical Girls tended to have sussed out their basic limits by this point. For her to potentially be developing an ability that made what appeared to be gold -in addition to everything else her Grimoire foisted upon her- seemed absurd. The fact that she simply [i]knew[/i] what this coin was called -the same way she could wield her sword like a master, the same way she could confidently command a horse or assess a battlefield tactically- implied that it had roots in her Grimoire's Legend and in King Arthur's time.

But [i]Camelot the City[/i] had never particularly been notable for its wealth that she could recall. Nor could Camelot the Magical Girl particularly fathom what purpose creating gold served towards saving people from the Pageless. The Round Table, at least, managed to sustain and create hope. For all that it was just about completely worthless in combat, in terms of ensuring combat never needed to happen or helping victims afterwards, it was as unparalleled in its field of healing the soul as Captain Goodhope was at healing bodies.

It made no sense.

Where had the gold come from? If it was from an emerging power, what were the conditions of its activation? Even as she searched within herself, Camelot could not find any particular mental switch or instinct that hadn't been there prior.

She shook her head and exhaled deeply. Whatever the case, this was no place to have her head in the clouds. Glancing back up at the sky, this time she finally rolled her eyes and called aloud to the redheaded witch dangling from a broom, [color=DAA520]"[i]Hey[/i]! You need a hand up there?!"[/color]