Wrenarias
Well-Known Member
Elsewhere, Aboard Lady Luck...
Wren was on the mend. Her injuries had been severe enough to nearly cripple her, but she was tougher than she looked and was making good time in her recovery. It was still uncomfortable to talk, but at least she could. On occasion, if she moved her tongue the wrong way, a sharp stab of pain would lance through her mouth -- it wasn't clear if that little defect would ever heal properly.
Shattered bones had eventually restitched themselves together, thanks to the medical treatment she received from Ozzie's people on Nar Shaddaa. They were still weak, however, since she'd only come out of the casts a few days prior. The dexterity in the fingers of her right hand was diminished, much to her frustration.
This irritation was quickly reaching a tipping point when she dropped her spanner for the third time while working on a modified gauntlet in the engineering bay. Wren never had much of a temper before her... experience with Evelynn, but now she found herself almost screaming at the useless tool on the floor. Seething, she turned on the stool to snatch the piece of equipment up.
It was then she felt the faintest of whispers of a vaguely familiar presence.
The anger immediately abated and she raised her gaze with a puzzled expression. She wasn't in the Lady Luck's engine room anymore. Instead, she was laying in a body that wasn't her own, but one she had come to recognize -- the pale skin and gaunt form was impossible to misplace. But that wasn't what held her attention.
No.
It was the man. Golden eyes flashing and a frighteningly wicked smile on his lips.
She knew those eyes. She'd seen them before, but only for a fleeting moment.
Oh, goddess, N O ...
"It has to know your pain." He uttered, the voice slightly disjointed and muffled, as if she heard the speaker from another room.
Blistering, nauseating agony exploded in her shoulder as he removed the arm without a second of hesitation. The body her mind was trapped in didn't react... but the woman still on the Lady Luck, however, did. A visceral, horrific scream tore its way from her throat as the man who both was and wasn't Dorian licked her blood off his fingers.
No, it's not my blood. It's not my arm.
Wrenarias fell off the stool she'd been sitting on, collapsing onto the floor. Her body thrashed in uncontrollable torment. With her consciousness feeling as though it was torn in two, Wren experienced both realities at once.
It was excruciating.
Wren was on the mend. Her injuries had been severe enough to nearly cripple her, but she was tougher than she looked and was making good time in her recovery. It was still uncomfortable to talk, but at least she could. On occasion, if she moved her tongue the wrong way, a sharp stab of pain would lance through her mouth -- it wasn't clear if that little defect would ever heal properly.
Shattered bones had eventually restitched themselves together, thanks to the medical treatment she received from Ozzie's people on Nar Shaddaa. They were still weak, however, since she'd only come out of the casts a few days prior. The dexterity in the fingers of her right hand was diminished, much to her frustration.
This irritation was quickly reaching a tipping point when she dropped her spanner for the third time while working on a modified gauntlet in the engineering bay. Wren never had much of a temper before her... experience with Evelynn, but now she found herself almost screaming at the useless tool on the floor. Seething, she turned on the stool to snatch the piece of equipment up.
It was then she felt the faintest of whispers of a vaguely familiar presence.
The anger immediately abated and she raised her gaze with a puzzled expression. She wasn't in the Lady Luck's engine room anymore. Instead, she was laying in a body that wasn't her own, but one she had come to recognize -- the pale skin and gaunt form was impossible to misplace. But that wasn't what held her attention.
No.
It was the man. Golden eyes flashing and a frighteningly wicked smile on his lips.
She knew those eyes. She'd seen them before, but only for a fleeting moment.
Oh, goddess, N O ...
"It has to know your pain." He uttered, the voice slightly disjointed and muffled, as if she heard the speaker from another room.
Blistering, nauseating agony exploded in her shoulder as he removed the arm without a second of hesitation. The body her mind was trapped in didn't react... but the woman still on the Lady Luck, however, did. A visceral, horrific scream tore its way from her throat as the man who both was and wasn't Dorian licked her blood off his fingers.
No, it's not my blood. It's not my arm.
Wrenarias fell off the stool she'd been sitting on, collapsing onto the floor. Her body thrashed in uncontrollable torment. With her consciousness feeling as though it was torn in two, Wren experienced both realities at once.
It was excruciating.