Post by dsb on Jul 15, 2018 23:51:23 GMT
Deep within the bowels of the FAWN on-site medical facility, the recovery room was mainly dark, a single occupant hunched on a bench. Lenore Lemarchand had an icepack pressed to the back of her neck with one hand, but her attention was focussed on the tablet on her lap. So focussed in fact that she had declined to move to the suite of locker rooms designated to the Black Court, or allow Kent in to fuss over her. She didn’t want to move an inch until she had resolved her problem.
LENORE LEMARCHAND
More accurately her gaze was fixed furiously on the footage of what had occurred in the arena some few hours beforehand. “Stupid,” she muttered to herself, tiny details of her mistakes now looming huge in hindsight. But the Raven’s reverie was interrupted by a rustle and sudden sound of feet from the door behind.
Instinctively Lemarchand spun her head, only to let out a loud curse when her abused neck screamed at the sudden movement. Blinded by that agony she had no chance of avoiding the boot which swung up out of the darkness and slammed into the back of her head. Lenore was slammed forwards, the tablet skittering away on the tiles as she landed full on her face.
Again her immediate response was to press upwards and turn to face her aggressor, but this plan was stopped by another short kick sending stars across her vision. By the time those had cleared she felt a heavy presence kneeling roughly on her back, yanking one arm upwards into a loose hammerlock to keep her torso grounded. A hand curled into her hair, preventing her from turning her face from the tiles. A brief struggle was enough to convince her that it would be no easy task to break free in her current state, but by then her cogs had been whirring for long enough anyway.
“Amara’s not stupid enough to add to what I’ll give her in the Chambers, and Elise knows that misery first hand, so whoever is the next bytch that thinks they can take me down, a word of advice. Learn from the mistakes of those that came before you. Rethink your choices. And run. Because if not, you’ll be kissing my…”
“Only one ship is seeking you,” the interrupting voice had a southern twang and wasn’t immediately recognisable, even to someone with the Raven’s encyclopaedic knowledge of FAWN. “A black-sailed unfamiliar, towing at her back a huge and birdless silence. In her wake no waters breed or break.”
Unrecognisable though the voice was, the verse only took a moment for her to place. “Larkin? Newbie redhead with the little geeky partner? Oh sweetie, I can’t fault your ambition but you’re way out of your depth here and I’ll drown you in seCHUUUURGH”
HARRIET LARKIN
That grip shifted from the back of her heads to her neck, fingers digging into the tender flesh and pressing down. “If you aren’t in over your head, how do you know how tall you are?” Harriet asked, sounding pleased with herself. “And talking of heads…”
Lenore knew what was coming, and her free arm came up to defend as best she could. But there was little she could do to prevent Larkin from clubbing her across the scalp with a big forearm once, twice, three times. The ringing in her ears and throb of her face being thumped into the floor, on top of all the aches from earlier in the night, was enough to leave her patience severely frayed.
“So what’s the plan, new meat?” Lenore’s voice betrayed plenty of the fury beneath. “Do you want me to rip you to shreds in the ring, or would you rather get wrecked in private? My diary is pretty full but I’m sure I can find the five f*cking minutes it’ll take to make an overwhelmed rookie regret that she ever heard my naAAARGH GET THE F*CK OFF!”
Harriet simply shifted her weight a little until the knee bearing most of her weight was pressed squarely onto the back of the writhing Raven’s neck. “My plan was to take an arrogant upper-class bytch and put my boot on her neck. Didn’t really think much past that point, but I’m pretty pleased with how it turned out.”
To illustrate this the rookie bore down again, earning another grunt from her captive before continuing. “If you want to know why I'm here, it’s the same simple answer as it is for everything you’ve ever done in your haughty little life. I wanted to do it.”
“Kicking the crap out of stuck-up bytches is fun, especially when they think they’re in charge of things. By the way,” she leaned forward confidentially, “I think your neck is in pretty bad shape. I’ll check, just scream for me if this hurts” Another squeeze, but the Raven jammed her free hand in her mouth and stuffed up tight rather than give this new girl the satisfaction. After a few seconds the pressure eased again. “I guess it’s not too bad after all. Weird, I thought that was why you were being such a weak little bytch instead of fighting back.”
When she removed her hand from her mouth Lenore’s voice dripped with menace. “Doesn’t matter how my neck’s feeling, moron, I’m still going to rip your f*cking head off and GAHUnnnnnngh!” Larkin shifted position again, releasing the hammerlock to wrap one arm around the brunette’s windpipe while the other elbow bore down intensely on the top of her spine. The Raven managed to keep her teeth clamped shut for a good ten seconds before the agony in the already damaged joint forced a low, protesting wail out from between her lips.
“There we go!” Harriet’s tone was extremely satisfied, her lips ducked close to the brunette’s ear. “Sounds like it hurts. Maybe I should kiss it better.” She bent closer, mouth latching onto the taut skin of Lenore’s neck and sucking in. After a few seconds of sucking she released, leaving behind a dark red welt and a spluttering of disgust.
“Nasty little whore!” Lenore reached up to massage her neck and felt the redhead’s weight pressing up off her back. As soon as it had lifted she rolled over, scrambling to a three point stance but holding there in deference to her already exhausted state. Harriet eyed her from the other side of the bench, all playfulness gone from her demeanor.
“Careful, bird girl, you look awful banged up. So far I haven’t left a mark. Well…except for the hickey, but I’m sure your boyfriend will understand. I know you’re busy pretending to be in control, so If you don’t want to tell anyone about our time together, I won’t blame you.”
“Seriously?” Despite her abused state Lenore looked ready to charge the taller woman right then and there. “I’m going to f*cking END you, new meat!” she spat. Harriet’s face curled into a snarl but her words were impassive. “What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.”
A second was all the Raven needed to recognise the poetry before the redhead carried on. “If you really want to see more of me then book something official. Maybe I’ll break the habit of a life time and turn up. But maybe I won’t. You’ll just have to wait and see.” Larkin backed off towards the doorway and only paused when half through it. “See ya ‘round, bird girl.”
“Run far, new meat!” Lemarchand called, “It won’t help you, but it’ll make it more fun when I catch up.” The redhead’s only response was to flip a quick middle-fingered salute in her direction before swishing out into the darkness of the corridor. Lenore waited for a second to be sure she’d gone then bent to collect her icepack, eyes still furiously trained on the empty doorway.
LENORE LEMARCHAND
More accurately her gaze was fixed furiously on the footage of what had occurred in the arena some few hours beforehand. “Stupid,” she muttered to herself, tiny details of her mistakes now looming huge in hindsight. But the Raven’s reverie was interrupted by a rustle and sudden sound of feet from the door behind.
Instinctively Lemarchand spun her head, only to let out a loud curse when her abused neck screamed at the sudden movement. Blinded by that agony she had no chance of avoiding the boot which swung up out of the darkness and slammed into the back of her head. Lenore was slammed forwards, the tablet skittering away on the tiles as she landed full on her face.
Again her immediate response was to press upwards and turn to face her aggressor, but this plan was stopped by another short kick sending stars across her vision. By the time those had cleared she felt a heavy presence kneeling roughly on her back, yanking one arm upwards into a loose hammerlock to keep her torso grounded. A hand curled into her hair, preventing her from turning her face from the tiles. A brief struggle was enough to convince her that it would be no easy task to break free in her current state, but by then her cogs had been whirring for long enough anyway.
“Amara’s not stupid enough to add to what I’ll give her in the Chambers, and Elise knows that misery first hand, so whoever is the next bytch that thinks they can take me down, a word of advice. Learn from the mistakes of those that came before you. Rethink your choices. And run. Because if not, you’ll be kissing my…”
“Only one ship is seeking you,” the interrupting voice had a southern twang and wasn’t immediately recognisable, even to someone with the Raven’s encyclopaedic knowledge of FAWN. “A black-sailed unfamiliar, towing at her back a huge and birdless silence. In her wake no waters breed or break.”
Unrecognisable though the voice was, the verse only took a moment for her to place. “Larkin? Newbie redhead with the little geeky partner? Oh sweetie, I can’t fault your ambition but you’re way out of your depth here and I’ll drown you in seCHUUUURGH”
HARRIET LARKIN
That grip shifted from the back of her heads to her neck, fingers digging into the tender flesh and pressing down. “If you aren’t in over your head, how do you know how tall you are?” Harriet asked, sounding pleased with herself. “And talking of heads…”
Lenore knew what was coming, and her free arm came up to defend as best she could. But there was little she could do to prevent Larkin from clubbing her across the scalp with a big forearm once, twice, three times. The ringing in her ears and throb of her face being thumped into the floor, on top of all the aches from earlier in the night, was enough to leave her patience severely frayed.
“So what’s the plan, new meat?” Lenore’s voice betrayed plenty of the fury beneath. “Do you want me to rip you to shreds in the ring, or would you rather get wrecked in private? My diary is pretty full but I’m sure I can find the five f*cking minutes it’ll take to make an overwhelmed rookie regret that she ever heard my naAAARGH GET THE F*CK OFF!”
Harriet simply shifted her weight a little until the knee bearing most of her weight was pressed squarely onto the back of the writhing Raven’s neck. “My plan was to take an arrogant upper-class bytch and put my boot on her neck. Didn’t really think much past that point, but I’m pretty pleased with how it turned out.”
To illustrate this the rookie bore down again, earning another grunt from her captive before continuing. “If you want to know why I'm here, it’s the same simple answer as it is for everything you’ve ever done in your haughty little life. I wanted to do it.”
“Kicking the crap out of stuck-up bytches is fun, especially when they think they’re in charge of things. By the way,” she leaned forward confidentially, “I think your neck is in pretty bad shape. I’ll check, just scream for me if this hurts” Another squeeze, but the Raven jammed her free hand in her mouth and stuffed up tight rather than give this new girl the satisfaction. After a few seconds the pressure eased again. “I guess it’s not too bad after all. Weird, I thought that was why you were being such a weak little bytch instead of fighting back.”
When she removed her hand from her mouth Lenore’s voice dripped with menace. “Doesn’t matter how my neck’s feeling, moron, I’m still going to rip your f*cking head off and GAHUnnnnnngh!” Larkin shifted position again, releasing the hammerlock to wrap one arm around the brunette’s windpipe while the other elbow bore down intensely on the top of her spine. The Raven managed to keep her teeth clamped shut for a good ten seconds before the agony in the already damaged joint forced a low, protesting wail out from between her lips.
“There we go!” Harriet’s tone was extremely satisfied, her lips ducked close to the brunette’s ear. “Sounds like it hurts. Maybe I should kiss it better.” She bent closer, mouth latching onto the taut skin of Lenore’s neck and sucking in. After a few seconds of sucking she released, leaving behind a dark red welt and a spluttering of disgust.
“Nasty little whore!” Lenore reached up to massage her neck and felt the redhead’s weight pressing up off her back. As soon as it had lifted she rolled over, scrambling to a three point stance but holding there in deference to her already exhausted state. Harriet eyed her from the other side of the bench, all playfulness gone from her demeanor.
“Careful, bird girl, you look awful banged up. So far I haven’t left a mark. Well…except for the hickey, but I’m sure your boyfriend will understand. I know you’re busy pretending to be in control, so If you don’t want to tell anyone about our time together, I won’t blame you.”
“Seriously?” Despite her abused state Lenore looked ready to charge the taller woman right then and there. “I’m going to f*cking END you, new meat!” she spat. Harriet’s face curled into a snarl but her words were impassive. “What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.”
A second was all the Raven needed to recognise the poetry before the redhead carried on. “If you really want to see more of me then book something official. Maybe I’ll break the habit of a life time and turn up. But maybe I won’t. You’ll just have to wait and see.” Larkin backed off towards the doorway and only paused when half through it. “See ya ‘round, bird girl.”
“Run far, new meat!” Lemarchand called, “It won’t help you, but it’ll make it more fun when I catch up.” The redhead’s only response was to flip a quick middle-fingered salute in her direction before swishing out into the darkness of the corridor. Lenore waited for a second to be sure she’d gone then bent to collect her icepack, eyes still furiously trained on the empty doorway.