We Are One
Outer Rim Territories;
Ivax Nebula;
Bespin.
She was confused, entirely, all the way up until he made the shot. Her eyes widened, and she raised flattening hands as if to suggest they re-think this, but it was too late. This, whatever this was, was happening. She had no room to think, everything she had just concluded needed to be tossed aside. There couldn't be any room for scheming here, the timer had run its course, and now it was dinging. Time to move. She flashed a wildly aggressive glare at Kail just before the man took hold of her hair and began playing the part, speaking words which sounded cold and in-character. For some reason it sobered her, chilling down to the bone. Her yelp of pain and fear was a genuine one, realizing just how far Kail was willing to go with this. Her face remained in the cringed formation, glassy eyes beginning to release tears. Her whole weight trembled and slumped under his command, stumbling forward as Kail moved her like a horribly ungraceful puppet show. Her shaking submission looked forced, as if she had been previously threatened into not speaking a word. The loud silence, where behind closed lips muffled sounds lingered. Further diluted by a tongue glued to the roof of her mouth. Her clothes still looked as though they had been through a bombing, rips along dress's lining from where it had been... forcibly removed...
The audience gasped.
Kail was like a wild man, dealing with the civilians in a manner he had not expected. Not out of him, she had been counting him as dead weight. Crippling herself based on expectations she had no idea about. Who knew, he could bluff. Better yet, this was acting. She was already smiling when Kail whispered in coarse tones, requiring direction. She didn't speak, she knew better than that. Any cameras, if there were any, would pick that up as them communicating. It would be a small crumb along the trail typical justice, eventually leading to her identity's defeat. And soon thereafter her own, surely. Instead, she tripped over to her left side, yanking him heavily in the direction of the next turn. Crying with the pain of tripping, only to be held by Kail's grip on her hair, she lowered her head in pain and only then spoke with a voice almost too quick to hear.
"Left, left, door. Access code 23, 5, 14, 9, 1."
The directions to the hangar bay of private access, only a few tenants had restricted access. It was there they'd find the Nubian cruiser, one of her collection, and would thus be provided with far more luxurious comfort. Xenia continued to walk, as if frightened to death by the man and more than obeying whatever Kail's will should be. The halls and hangar would be made to look fancy, and the large, sleek chrome of the Nubian would be a welcomed sight in comparison to her Fanblade; she'd have to leave that here for the moment, no choice, and she'd be back for it.
[member="Kail Ragnar"]
Ivax Nebula;
Bespin.
She was confused, entirely, all the way up until he made the shot. Her eyes widened, and she raised flattening hands as if to suggest they re-think this, but it was too late. This, whatever this was, was happening. She had no room to think, everything she had just concluded needed to be tossed aside. There couldn't be any room for scheming here, the timer had run its course, and now it was dinging. Time to move. She flashed a wildly aggressive glare at Kail just before the man took hold of her hair and began playing the part, speaking words which sounded cold and in-character. For some reason it sobered her, chilling down to the bone. Her yelp of pain and fear was a genuine one, realizing just how far Kail was willing to go with this. Her face remained in the cringed formation, glassy eyes beginning to release tears. Her whole weight trembled and slumped under his command, stumbling forward as Kail moved her like a horribly ungraceful puppet show. Her shaking submission looked forced, as if she had been previously threatened into not speaking a word. The loud silence, where behind closed lips muffled sounds lingered. Further diluted by a tongue glued to the roof of her mouth. Her clothes still looked as though they had been through a bombing, rips along dress's lining from where it had been... forcibly removed...
The audience gasped.
Kail was like a wild man, dealing with the civilians in a manner he had not expected. Not out of him, she had been counting him as dead weight. Crippling herself based on expectations she had no idea about. Who knew, he could bluff. Better yet, this was acting. She was already smiling when Kail whispered in coarse tones, requiring direction. She didn't speak, she knew better than that. Any cameras, if there were any, would pick that up as them communicating. It would be a small crumb along the trail typical justice, eventually leading to her identity's defeat. And soon thereafter her own, surely. Instead, she tripped over to her left side, yanking him heavily in the direction of the next turn. Crying with the pain of tripping, only to be held by Kail's grip on her hair, she lowered her head in pain and only then spoke with a voice almost too quick to hear.
"Left, left, door. Access code 23, 5, 14, 9, 1."
The directions to the hangar bay of private access, only a few tenants had restricted access. It was there they'd find the Nubian cruiser, one of her collection, and would thus be provided with far more luxurious comfort. Xenia continued to walk, as if frightened to death by the man and more than obeying whatever Kail's will should be. The halls and hangar would be made to look fancy, and the large, sleek chrome of the Nubian would be a welcomed sight in comparison to her Fanblade; she'd have to leave that here for the moment, no choice, and she'd be back for it.
[member="Kail Ragnar"]
