T

Trim

SAS

Submissive And Slutty

#r-ncsouth@soi
Club Corona, South Town. Carnyx Kent attempts to apprehend a powerful mercenary by the name of Zephyrus, when an unexpected interloper takes charge of his quarry.

i am a male slave obeying all command is Real-time

YDY

Yoda Dislikes Y-words

South Town
I watch as you leave, and then finally wipe the blood from my face with a napkin as I head towards the exit myself.

'Wings. I need wings, Boyo.'

'You need some more high-end offensive gear, is what you need. You're lucky she showed up. Zephyrus was about to "CE" your life total.'

'I had him.'

L/P

Nightlife
Celestine indeed moved deliberately and with little pause, though not rushed like she was in some hurry.

One out of many of the damned, her purpose unlocked by the wide-reaching exposure of some Corporate witch. Enemy of my Enemy.

"Once he's tried by the local tribunal, if he is lawfully released, then he faces whatever fate you have designed for him…"

It was blindingly painful to have to submit the guilty to the flawed process of the land and her people, but it is the glue that holds this society together.

It just needed a chance to reach out and touch those who presumed themselves untouchable.

The question about her own equipment wasn't answered, especially as she… didn't have an answer available for you.

The Flamberge whirled heavily through the air before landing with a thrumming digital-metal CLANG against its spot on her back, and Celeste watched you humorlessly.

"Thank you for your help."

Like that should be enough to assuage the profound loss of your hypothetical residence with tillable land up in Uppsala.

The wings that gripped the body of Zephyrus produced a whine just on the verge of perceptible frequency and then lifted your prize up and skyward, destined to express across the leviathan city.

…and then she turned and parted what few people had decided to stay and bear witness, heavy armored footsteps carrying her toward the elevator.

https://cdn5-images.motherlessmedia.com/images/3984573.jpg

kept caged in the basement at her insistence

rings out....

despised by her, but at least not subject to too much physical torment because of the baby

combining household chores with carrying their child for them, to be sold on to another couple when the baby is born.

identified as a "breeder" whose services can be sold to childless couples at a premium.

...

i am a male slave obeying all command is Real-time

https://cdn5-images.motherlessmedia.com/images/3C75D78.jpg

Nightlife
Celestine's dispassionate stare settled on that face-jewel you wore, something that seemed to undermine the rest of your battle-worn features.

"He answers to a higher authority, now. Whatever liberties he exploited to earn your enmity, he will rightly have stripped."

As if on cue, the jets that lined the perimeter of Zephyrus's armor began to power down in a slow, dying noise of disabled micro-turbines as the Mercenary went slack as if rendered in stasis, stunned in technologically-induced catatonia.

The book she carried hummed and then snapped shut as if compelled to do so under its own magnetism, and she hitched it back to its place on the girdle of her armor, one that seemed to bestow her with a Puissance grossly disproportionate to the rest of her frame, which was decidedly unremarkable in proportion in proportion, only just slightly taller than most.

Especially with how easily she unwedged the Flamberge, its uneven blade grating noisily against the ruined metal of the Merc's leg in withdrawal, and then she began to lift, manipulate the unresponsive body of Zephyrus to fix the wings she arrived with onto him, articulating golden mechanical appendages searching and reaching for purchase on the mercenary's back to secure onto him like she intended for them to carry the quarry away on their own.

All the while, her stare mostly remained on you, though she pivoted to consider the environment around her occasionally like it was possible one of Zephyrus's allies might attempt to intervene.

It was just you, though.

using the "ignore" facility in the hope that someone more interesting comes along, though sometimes no-one is more interesting than someone.

head turning at a muffled sound

rings out...