Living in the Shadows: IC, Jan 8th-14th Options

[grendel]

15:57:03 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle, Seattle

Kovacs rummaged through his closet after his deck. It had been so long since he'd actually visited Palatine, these days all he did was message back and forth directly with Isomer. He found what he was looking for in the back corner, pulling out the plastic case along with a set of trodes for Mac.

As he walked back down the hallway, a reply text from Emily popped up in his AR.

Sorry, can't tonight. Busy. Next week maybe?

He felt his lips twist in disappointment. He'd been looking forward to working with the ropes. Taking a breath, he fired off a reply before rejoining Mac in the front room. She had his art book open to the page featuring the Night Watch, and he smiled to see it. Her glance must have read something in his face, though, because she tilted her head to the side.

"What's wrong?"

"Hmm?" Kovacs set down the deck and trode set before he realized what she was asking about. "Oh, nothing. Emily is busy tonight so I won't be going out after all."

Reeling the cord out from the back of the deck, he plugged it into the aux port on his trideo base station.

"We can network from home, but if we were going to do anything illicit, we'd be plugging in from somewhere else," he commented, passing her the trode set. "I know you've used one of these before. Go ahead and dive in, I'll be along momentarily."

He powered up the deck, ensuring that it passed all of its self-checks, before moving into the kitchen.

[Vegas]

16:01:32 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle, Seattle

Mac couldn’t help but raise a brow as Kovacs handed over the trodes, but she accepted them graciously as she didn’t see a spare cable to jack straight in with. It had been a long time since she had to fight with a headband, so it took her a few more moments to get it settled comfortably. She let her eyes flutter closed as the felt the interface start up and adjust to her.

She was only paying half the attention she could have, as she was processing the look she had seen on Kovacs’ face. Definite signs of disappointment that his “date” with Emily wasn’t going to take place after all. She however, wasn’t disappointed in the least. Mac was rather convinced the two of them could find all kinds of ways to blow off steam together if the other night was any indication, however that mix of business and pleasure was always a dangerous game to play.

“If you’re plans really fell through, you’re always welcome to join me out at the clubs tonight… You know, if that’s your thing and all.” She called out in the direction of the kitchen before she turned her full attention to the direct interface nagging at her.

[grendel]

16:05:17 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle, Seattle

The interface opened beneath her, drawing Mac into its virtual space so quickly that she didn't even hear Kovacs' reply to her offer. The host was unremarkable, in fact, everything was standard issue UMS iconography, even her avatar. Mac sighed, then did what she always did when she was bored: snooped.

In this case, her investigation pays off. Other than half a dozen files protected by some serious encryption, she finds an impressively large avatar library. In seconds she's trying on the skins, switching from an elven rockstar clad in neon and leather to an wiry street sam wearing combat boots and a duster over a khaki jumpsuit. She even toyed with a waifish sexpot with a mane of synthetic hair and curves that could only be sculpted by science. She finally settles on a vaguely industrial looking skin, tight leather and spandex in black with red highlights.

Mac is busily admiring herself in the mirror when another icon rezzes in. This one is a humanoid vaguely larger than man-sized, made entirely of shifting coils of barbed wire and chains.

"Which clubs are you going to on a Wednesday night?" it asked in Kovacs' voice. Mac shrugged.

"Haven't made up my mind yet."

Kovacs nodded. "All right. Well, this shouldn't take long. Here's the LTG where we're headed."

An alphanumeric stream glows to life in the air, and Mac swipes her hand along it, copying it to her memory. Together they ducked out of the host and onto the glittering neon highways of Seattle's RTG. Although the grid is a blizzard of data and other icons, Mac easily paces Kovacs as they cross the electronic ether to the address specified. Their route takes them into one of the dark corners of Seattle's RTG, a haven for hosts far removed from the scrutiny of the Grid Overwatch Division.

Palatine is skinned like a classic Roman villa, tall columns topped by arches fronting a vast interior courtyard. Long hallways border the garden in the courtyard, while the main house serves as the club proper. A brace of icons dressed as Roman Legionnaires stand guard. Kovacs flashes a badge of some kind, and indicates Mac as well. The grizzled Pilus Prior in charge of the detachment waves them through.

Inside, the host is populated by a plethora of icons and avatars, a strange menagerie of styles and time periods clashing together. Kovacs works his way through the crowd towards a table in back. Seated at the table was a rendering of the Egyptian god Anubis, a black jackal head grafted onto the body of a Nubian warrior. Black wings sewn with a tracery of silver wires sprout from its shoulders. The eyes, glittering with internal flame, fix the two of them with a stare. Kovacs doesn't hesitate to seat himself.

"Isomer. Thanks for meeting with us. This is Mac, she's going to be working with me for a while."

Isomer glanced at Mac, who smiled in return.

"Hey."

Instead of a voice, text blazed to life in the air in front of Mac. Good afternoon. It's a pleasure to meet you.

[Vegas]

16:07:19 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle, Seattle

Mac nodded and accepted Isomer was either more introverted than most of the matrix geeks she had met, or he was extra cautious and liked his complete anonymity. 

"Pleasure's mine. Thanks for taking the time."

She couldn't help but admire his iconography as she regarded him, every detail impeccable and flawless.

[grendel]

16:09:42 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle, Seattle

Isomer turned back towards Kovacs.

She's cuter than your last apprentice. Let's hope she lives longer.

The older samurai's face of chains went hard, and Isomer held up a clawed hand.

Sorry.

Kovacs flexed his hands momentarily before taking a breath. "She needs a new ID from the skin out. Same licenses as mine."

Any particular details you want? asked Isomer.

"No, but keep it low-key," replied Kovacs. He reached into the inner pocket of his coat and produced a credstick which he slid across the table to his contact. "Give her a passkey as well."

Isomer nodded, cupping his hands together momentarily. Opening them revealed an iridescent scarab beetle that poised for a moment before spreading its wings and buzzing over to Mac. Alighting on her hand, it opened its jaws and bit down, injecting the passkey code that would allow her access to Palatine.

[Vegas]

16:11:10 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle, Seattle

Mac felt her breath catch in her throat as Isomer dropped the bombshell. She did her best to keep her face passive and almost unreadable as they finalized the transaction. 

She was grateful for the distraction as she was given the passkey to collect herself before she looked back up at the pair and addressed Isomer.

"Do you need any specifics from me?"

Truthfully, she was counting the moments until she could get out of the matrix and lose herself in the middle of a crowded club in the flesh.

[grendel]

16:11:15 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle, Seattle

Isomer shrugged, his avatar rendered with exquisite body language in order to offset his speechlessness.

Got a name you prefer?

[Vegas]

16:12:41 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle, Seattle

Mac pursed her lips for a moment as she thought over the answer to that question. Something that didn't attract too much attention for being overly memorable and something she could stand for however long she was using it. She started to shake her head but thought better of leaving it in Isomer's hands. Doing that before left her with "Josie."

"Katherine. Katherine Ford."

[grendel]

16:14:09 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle, Seattle

Isomer nodded, making a note of the name.

Done. I'll have the documents for you in thirty six hours.

"Good. Keep the line open as well, I've got a work request in with Zeyda and I may need your assistance depending on what he comes up with," instructed Kovacs. The decker across from him nodded.

I'm always available to a friend. The jackal head dipped in what could only be an apology for his earlier quip. After a moment, Kovacs mirrored the gesture, then stood. For a moment, Mac thought he'd simply dump them from the host directly into the meat world, but when she realized he wasn't, she followed him deeper into the virtual space. He seemed to be looking for someone, and she waited patiently as he scanned the crowd until he found what he sought. With a gesture, he indicated a pale, faceless icon standing adjacent to one of the wrought iron braziers.

"That's Oracle. If you ever need to find information and you're not having any luck with the usual avenues, ask it. The price is steep, but the answers are worthwhile."

Mac nodded, opening her mouth to reply, only to find herself back in the real world. Kovacs had already unclipped the datacable from his jack and was powering down the deck. His face was set and cold, his eyes distant.

[Vegas]

16:17:57 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

Mac pulled the trodes from her head and ran her fingers through her hair while Kovacs sat beside her stone-faced and silent. She opened her mouth to ask if he wanted to talk about it, but quickly closed herself back off because truthfully she wasn’t ready to talk about, let alone face that part of her new reality.

Her eyes moved around the living room as the pair sat in silence before they landed on the pair of boots she had worn on Saturday night, lined up neatly beside the front door as they never quite made it back to her apartment. The sight of them just intensified her desire to run to the clubs, to clear her head amidst the throngs of people there without a care in the world. To get lost in the music, the moment, to leave her responsibilities and worries behind and to satisfy the empty darkness inside of her in any way possible.

She reached for Kovacs’ hand as she stood up.

“C’mon. We’re going out. You shared your world with me all day, now it’s time for me to share mine.”

She stood up and stretched, her demeanor starting to shift to something a bit more predatory as she started to walk down the hall towards the training room to gather her things. She paused halfway down the hall and looked back over her shoulder, her eyes glittering darkly.

“And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

[grendel]

16:48:12 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

Kovacs opens his mouth, pauses, then closes it. He really didn't have a valid excuse for not going out tonight. Zeyda hadn't called back, and there were no other pressing matters he had to complete before tomorrow. He shrugged, slinging the deck beneath his arm.

"Sure, why not?"

He heard the shower start while he was in his bedroom, and after replacing his gear he stripped down and stepped into the narrow alcove, smiling as Mac's humming became audible over the spray of water. He rinsed off quickly, returning to his bedroom to throw on something black and suitable for the evening.

Mac found him in the front room after she was finished with her own preparations, brooding over the print on his wall. He tossed her they keys to the truck.

"Your show," was all he said.

[Vegas]

17:08:54 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

Mac tried to quell the ‘cat who ate the canary’ look that crossed her face as she snagged the keys from the air.

“Dinner, my place so I can change and then we’ll head up. Ever been to the Underworld?”

Kovacs didn’t let on, but she thought she detected a slight shake of his head before the non-committal shrug. She gathered her things and made sure that she brought her boots with her this time, she was going to need them.

Over the next couple of hours, Mac made the most of being in the driver’s seat, literally and figuratively as she opened up a bit more of her personal life to Kovacs. She took him to dinner at a hidden gem of a Chinese place not far from her apartment. After dinner she tried to keep their stop at her place as quick as possible, a change of makeup and clothes were in order, and she kept things mysterious as she stepped out of her bathroom with her long coat on and buttoned up to the collar. Only the bottom half of her come-frag-me boots were visible, all chrome and black leather.

It wasn’t long before they were on the road again on the I-5 and headed North.

21:29:19 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 - Underworld, 805 112th St SE Everett‎, Seattle

A non-descript two-story, windowless building sat in the middle of the block of 112th street between 8th and 9th avenues. A short line of people milled outside a pair of black metal fire doors. Posers, tourists, lifestylers and club kids littered the eclectic group, waiting for approval for entry from the pair of Orks manning the door.

Much like the other night at Inspire, Mac made a beeline for the front of the line, only this time she didn't have to pay extra for the privilege to cut the line, she had already earned it. Thumbing off enough cred to cover the two of them, she flashed a dangerous smile to Geoff as he held the door for her and her companion.

"Welcome back Kenz, I know a certain someone will be happy to know you've returned." He nodded to Kovacs as he continued to hold the door. "Have a good time."

As Mac pushed through the second set of double doors it he entryway, they were immediately assaulted by the deep throbbing bassline of the DJ. It struck her to her core and made Mac instantly long to be in the middle of the dance floor. She paused long enough inside to slip her longcoat from her shoulders and to pass it to the coat check girl in return for he claim chip.

Kovacs had the best view as Mac revealed the limited amount of clothing she chose for their evening out. She radiated darkness from head to toe, clad in supple black leather and chrome. Her thigh-high stiletto boots covered in chrome buckles, the tiny leather boyshorts which left very little of her ass to the imagination coupled with the halter and it's dangerously low zipper in front which hugged every curve. The final touch was the gleaming chrome of the almost 4.5 cm single-ring collar that graced her neck.

She might have frequented the downtown clubs more often, but Underworld is where she felt at home, where people knew her instead of her working persona. Here is where she came to really let go. Mac reached back for Kovacs' hand as she led him further into the club, an ultimate destination in mind as she let him get his bearings and take in the sights.

The dance floor was on its way to becoming crowded, especially for a Wednesday night. The bar ran the length of one wall and wasn't lacking for business as three bartenders, two Human females and one Elven male, worked to entertain those waiting for drinks. Old sections of chain link fencing were bolted to the concrete walls, the black paint that covered them chipped and peeling. The most interesting part of the main room however were the raised alcoves placed haphazardly into the external walls like mini stages. Taking place inside each of them were various scenes, designed to titillate the audience with varying acts of BDSM. Whips, restraints, spanking, Underworld had a little of everything for everyone in the main room.

Mac moved around to one side of Kovacs and rose up on her toes so she could be heard over the music, her breath warm and moist across his ear.

"See anything you like?"

[grendel]

21:34:22 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 - Underworld, 805 112th St SE, Everett‎, Seattle

Kovacs' ears automatically adjusted the volume to something comfortable, and he'd set the sound filter to key in on Mac's voice. He could have heard her whisper across the club. As it was, though, his attention was focused mainly on the acts of domination and submission. Hunger sang through his veins, and he could feel his fingers itch. It had been too long already. He smiled, eyes dark and wild.

"Other than you? Sure, there are a few tasty morsels that I wouldn't mind hurting tonight."

He slid through the crowd to get a closer look, like a shark through deep water, his arm around Mac's waist. The new angle and closer inspection proved him right, though. He knew two of the tops involved in the scenes.

[Vegas]

21:37:51 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 - Underworld, 805 112th St SE, Everett‎, Seattle

As if the bass reverberating through her body, or scenes in the alcoves weren’t enough to flip many of her switches, Kovacs’ words along with his arm around her waist made her feel like she was toeing the edge and the slightest breath would push her deep into her dark side.

“You can have anything you want in here.” Her lips brushed against his ear and she closed her eyes and enjoyed the scent of him.

She sauntered a few steps away from him, her eyes scanning over the alcoves, looking for a familiar face of her own. Not finding who she was looking for could only mean one thing and she licked her lips with anticipation. She turned back to face Kovacs, a dark need reading across her face and in her eyes.

“I need a drink, want anything?”

[grendel]

21:39:18 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 - Underworld, 805 112th St SE, Everett‎, Seattle

"Jack and coke," he called out, suddenly needing a bit of fortification. He was fairly sure he knew what Mac meant by her remark, as equally sure as he was that she didn't know exactly what she was offering to get into. The lilt of his smile was particularly sadistic, and he reminded himself that although Mac was clearly a streetwise girl she may not have extensive experience in negotiating his particular brand of fun. He found a convenient pillar to rest against, waiting for Mac to return with the drinks and wondering if all the playspaces were reserved for the evening.

[Vegas]

21:52:43 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 - Underworld, 805 112th St SE, Everett‎, Seattle

Mac nodded and took the long way back to the bar, disappearing into the middle of the mass of bodies on the dance floor as she made her way across the room. She slid up to Edenyan’s end of the bar, bypassing either of the girl’s sections as they usually watered down her drinks out of spite. The Elf greeted her with a smile that warmed considerably when he realized who it was.

“Hey Kenz, the usual?”

Mac grinned, nodded and held up two fingers. “Oh, and a Jack and Coke!”

Edenyan moved to the back bar and worked his magic and it wasn’t long before Mac was being presented with two neon red test-tubes and a tall glass. She crooked her finger at the Elf and placed a kiss on his lips as he leaned across the bar. She paid for her drinks and slid him a generous tip before making her way back to Kovacs along the perimeter of the crowd this time.

She paused a good six meters from him and studied him for a moment before she approached. The feral darkness that played on his face was visible even from here and for a moment she wondered if she was playing with more than just fire even tempting him. She shifted the drinks in her hand, downing the first of her two shots before closing the distance and sliding up along side of Kovacs and handing him his drink.

“Cheers.”

She tipped the bottom of her second cherry kamikaze against the side of his glass before tilting her head back and feeling the alcohol burn as it went down. Edenyan always made her drinks strong.

“Want to play out here a bit longer, or would you prefer somewhere more…Private?”

[Mach_Ten]

12:03:12 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

Vision blurred and ears thumping as his enhanced organs pump vital fluids harder and faster to their intended destinations, Remy staggers from the blast.
He looks briefly at his hands, he has four of them in his eyes and he waggles each set of fingers independantly as they swim in and out of his sight.

Shaking his head to try and clear things up his spots his adversary slumped against the wall next to him as he shoulders himself back upright,
probably imagining the words he's going to have with his comrade, in quiet, when this is all over, beginning with a few expletives and punctuated with some non-lethal violence.

Right now he's reaching for the SMG he has slung across his chest and Remy goes back in for the offensive defense option.
swinging wildly he only makes contact by luck, but his blurred sight means he only catches his fingertips on material which is rapidly snatched away from his grasp as he lunges past the guy.

Cursing his luck he glances in panic around him looking for some cover, he knows now that the guy is free, there's going to be pain to follow.
Crouching low, he prepares to dive over the counter top, hoping to land flat on the ground with something solid between himself and hot lead.

[grendel]

22:19:04 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 - Underworld, 805 112th St SE, Everett‎, Seattle

Kovacs took a sip from his drink to give himself time to think, savoring the bite and slow burn. Clearly, Mac was a favorite of the bartenders here since his glass seemed to be mostly Jack with a dash of coke for coloring. If he was going to play at all tonight, then this would have to be his only drink. Mentally he measured out the distances in the trusswork against the lengths of jute in his portable kit, deciding that he had enough to do something aesthetic, just not downright fancy. He turned back to Mac.

"I thought the idea was to be out and about tonight? But, sure, maybe something private later. For now? Once that fem domme is done beating on her boy, make sure no one else claims that truss. I'm going to the truck for the portable kit."

Kovacs took another slug from his drink as Mac nodded her understanding, eyes glittering eagerly in the laser-lit dimness of the club. He slid some cred to the bouncer on his way out, a brief comment of explanation getting a nod from the chromed ork in reply. It was the best he could hope for, and in the end, they passed him back into the club with a minimum of hassle about his pack.

It was for show, mostly, he and the ork sliding past each other with the careful neutrality of hardened urban predators. The ten hanks of jute in the satchel would not add any more lethality to what he already represented, and within minutes he was pushing through the double doors again, diving into the overpowering acoustics of the dancefloor on his way towards the playspaces.

In the ten minutes that he'd been gone, the pair using the stage before them had finished, the woman leading her boy away by a leash attached to a large, spiked collar. Mac had claimed the area by simply moving in and using one leg of the U-shaped truss as a pole to dance against. She swiveled her hips, her hair a dark whip in the half-light, her moves rhythmic and aggressive. Kovacs paused to watch, joining the small crowd of spectators that gazed up at her from floor level. She felt his eyes on her, and her lips curled back in a mischievous smile.

Turning, she pushed her ass back at him, glancing over her shoulder as she did. She teased him, biting her bottom lip coyly, while her breasts threatened to spill out of the narrow confines of the leather halter. Kovacs chuckled, not immune to her charms but self-aware enough to know the buttons she was trying to push. Threading his way through the crowd, he climbed the narrow stairs at the back of the stage, emerging beneath the truss. Dropping his satchel behind the support leg, he scooped out half a dozen bundles of rope, laying them within easy reach. Mac threw him a questioning look, and he smiled in return.

"Keep dancing," he said, leaning close so only she could hear him, his hands resting on her waist. The warmth of her flesh contrasted with the cool leather of her boyshorts, and he could feel the connection grow between them. He turned her back to face the audience, she accelerated the spin, making it her own, curving her arms out as he knelt by her side, throwing out his first bundle of jute. Mac's ass was just asking to be framed by a drum harness, but he didn't have the time or the rope. Instead he threw on a modified gunslinger, ornamenting a tight cuff high on her thigh that showed off the rounded curves. He put a line onto the hip anchor, but left the ends loose for the moment.

Kovacs rocked back for a moment to grab another bundle of jute and to let Mac sway free in her dance. Then he stood, capturing her arms and drawing them behind her back so that her forearms lay parallel to one another. He had enough jute to do a three rope takata kote, which is what he preferred, and he worked quickly, the form flowing through him. This time he did take the support line up to the main beam of the overhead truss, locking it off midway with a series of hitches. Flipping the support line from the hip harness over the same spot, he slipped an arm around Mac's waist.

"Ready?" he asked. She nodded, and he lifted and pulled at the same time, her body coming free from the ground into a yokozuri. Quickly retrieving another bundle of jute from his satchel, Kovacs threw a quick double column around her ankles, before drawing the working ends through the upper wrap of the takata kote. With a smooth pull, he arched her back, locking off the line with another set of hitches. Mac let her head droop, her hair falling around her face as she sank into the ropes.

[grendel]

12:03:13 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

Unsettled and off-balance from the blast, Remy can't maintain a solid grip as his opponent twists away, using the motion to bring the butt of the submachinegun against his shoulder, his finger already taking up slack on the trigger. The young ork curses, desperately working his own momentum in an effort to make it to cover. He knows he isn't going to make it in time, though, already tensing his body in anticipation of the gunshots.

When they come, though, they're not from his opponent. Noland's Alpha pulses out two more bursts with metronomic precision, and another body slumps to the floor. Xade fires from her prone position as well, the dull reports from her Colt lost amidst the heavier calibers. Her shots blow apart her target's ankle, dropping him to the floor with a scream of pain. He blazes away at her with his submachinegun, face contorted in pain and rage. She rolls to cover, but not before taking several hits.

The grenadier pauses, his bloodlust slackening as he watches his comrades gunned down. He adjusts his aim and lofts another minigrenad deep into the front shop. The projectile detonates adjacent to Noland, staggering the heavy ork and reducing what remains of the shop to shattered ruins. The assailant scrambles backwards, making a beeline for the rear door. Danny, face white with fear and anger, snakes the Mossberg around the corner of his office, firing twice at the retreating attacker. His first shot is wide, but his second finds its mark, the man staggering as the heavy buckshot chews into his back. He careens out the door.

[Vegas]

22:24:57 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 - Underworld, 805 112th St SE, Everett‎, Seattle

With her hair falling around her face in a wild dark veil, only those that had gathered and pressed against the front of their chosen alcove could see the contented smile upon her lips. Sure, the rope was a different twist, and Kovacs was still very new to her, but there was something so freeing about being bound and that sensation was near universal when she was in this position.

She closed her eyes, her body pulled tight and arched like a bow. She licked her lips slowly and reveled in every new sensation as she pushed and pulled against herself, testing the bonds and just how much movement she actually had. The fact that she was near helpless and only could move her head pushed her past her tipping point, far down into that well of depravity that she so often visited. Her breathing came in slow ragged breaths, not from fear as she for some wild reason trusted Kovacs completely at this very moment and she was feeding off the crowd that was growing beneath them. Her breath was slow and labored out of want, out of a dark need, out of lust.

[grendel]

22:36:29 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 - Underworld, 805 112th St SE, Everett‎, Seattle

Kovacs let Mac relax into the lift, hovering close by, one of his hands always resting on her body. This was his first time working with her, and even in something as simple as this he kept a heightened awareness, ready to bring her down at the slightest hint of distress. What he was reading, though, was anything but, and a dark smile curved across his lips. Crouching next to her, he brushed the hair back from her face, sliding his cheek against hers.

"More?" he asked, his lips on her skin.

"Yes," she whispered, her breath hot in his ear. Standing, he loosened the double column from her ankles, allowing her body to relax. Taking her right foot, he threw a full gravity boot on over her stiletto, hoisting her leg up so it was vertical. The stiffness of the boots prevented him from putting her left into a full futomomo, so he just lashed her ankle to her thigh with a few wraps. Reaching up, he loosened the main support line leading to the takata kote, easing her down into the kata-ashi sakasa-zuri. It wasn't a true single ankle suspension, since much of her weight still rode on the hip harness, but the effect was the same.

He stepped back, conceding the stage to Mac, allowing her to dance once more, her body slowly twisting beneath the truss. It was only a few minutes before he was back, though. Inversions are particularly taxing on the body, and he didn't want to cause any complications. This time he grabbed the front of her chest harness, anchoring the line there to the overhead truss to curl her back. Then he lowered her ankle rope, then waist rope, until only her shoulders were off the ground. He cleaned off the rest of the ropes quickly, finally lowering her fully to the floor. He gave her a moment to rest before rolling her over onto her stomach, bending her legs up behind her and crossing her ankles. He lashed them together, then pulled her into a tight hogtie, arching her back, and winding the rope through her mouth in a makeshift gag.

Standing back, he left her there, rocking helplessly. With a careless slouch, he leaned against the support beam of the truss, his back to her, as he sipped from his drink, his posture one of sadistic indifference. It was a careful facade, though, acted entirely for the audience, as Mac can feel his eyes on her, ready to act should she show the first sign of distress.

[Vegas]

22:41:18 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 - Underworld, 805 112th St SE, Everett, Seattle

As Kovacs strung the rope between her lips she couldn't stop herself from letting out a moan that was meant only for his ears. She squirmed and struggled beneath the rope, as he tied and retied her, her chest rising and falling with each heavy breath.

The two of them were drawing more of a crowd before them, rope work wasn't typically on the menu in the main room, especially from someone with the skill and practice that Kovacs was demonstrating.

Mac's body was on fire, radiating the heat against the cool floor of the stage. Her eyes closed as her lips pursed around the rope in frustration. It wasn't that the sensation of bondage wasn't delicious or that she wasn't enjoying herself immensely. Truthfully she wanted more than they would probably allow in the main room, even if the crowd was demanding more. Shows like that were regulated to and more commonly found in The Dungeon.

[grendel]

22:52:37 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 - Underworld, 805 112th St SE, Everett, Seattle

Mac's struggles against the implacable rope fueled a dark hunger inside of him, a rampant energy that burned through the muscles of his shoulders and arms. Kovacs smiled at himself, surfing the wave of endorphins with a metacognition born of long practice. After only five minutes or so, he knelt to undo the ropes, though. Holding tension on the lines, he eased Mac down out of the hogtie, letting her rest as he unwound her feet.

Lifting her into a sitting position, he knelt behind her, cradling her in his arms as he unbinds her. He traces each line of jute as it comes off, the warmth of his fingers echoing the fading warmth of the rope, until at last Mac is free, with only his arms draped across her.

[Vegas]

22:57:39 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 - Underworld, 805 112th St SE, Everett, Seattle

The disappointment of being unbound coupled with the counterpoint of the electricity of Kovacs' fingers against her skin was like a drug, maddening, delightful and instantaneously had her hooked and craving more.

Her eyes closed as she tilted her head back to rest against his chest. Her face radiated pleasure and only twinges slightly as she started to let her body relax and worked out the tension in what felt like every inch of her body.

When she opened her eyes again after what felt like an eternity but had only been a few moments the crowd still lingered in front of them, waiting and watching for what might come next. Mac practically purred as she rolled over to her hands and feet with the grace of a cat before stretching back on to her heels in child’s pose and giving their audience a great view of her ass and then coming forward to bring her face inches away from Kovacs’. She locked her gaze on his and fought every urge in her to throw herself at him.

“I think I,” She paused to reframe her statement because she knew what she needed. “I think they all want more.”

[grendel]

12:03:14 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

Remy lunged forward at the sounds of Danny's shotgun, all thoughts of his own safety thrust aside in the face of danger to his family. Dabbing a hand on the ground to get himself moving in the right direction, he scooped up one of the Ingram submachineguns from a fallen attacker. The sling parts beneath the vicious yank from his adrenalized muscles, and he ricochets into the back room.

"DANNYYOUOK?" he shouts, barely sparing a glance towards the office as he careens after the last fleeing assailant.

Danny gets out "WATCH-" before Remy is past him and turns through the door, the submachinegun shouldered, and his finger taking up slack on the trigger. The last attacker staggers in the middle of the alleyway towards an idling Ares Roadmaster, the heavy van's sliding cargo door flung open wide. Kneeling in the back, keeping watch over the alley and the truck, the fifth member of the cell blazes away at Remy with his SMG.