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

[grendel]

22:59:23 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 - Underworld, 805 112th St SE, Everett, Seattle

"Well they can learn to live with disappointment," replied Kovacs, matter of factly. "This next part is the private part. So if you want to keep dancing, we can stay as long as you like. But if you want to keep dancing with me then it's time to go."

The corner of his mouth pulls up in a wicked, dangerous smile, and he reaches for the first length of jute to start cleaning up the rope.

[Mach_Ten]

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

"WATCH-"

The words seem distant and muffled to Remy as the surge of adrenaline propels him, pure rage fuels the fires of his arrogance and he bounces off the interior walls of the back office, snatching a fallen weapon as he passes
He barely registers the resistance of the weapon sling as it tautens then snaps, sending the hardened plastic clip pinging off a wall somewhere near his ear.
All the time the dull thump thump thump of his heart pounding in his ears as the blood cries for appeasement.

The door out into the back alley and garage lot slowly bangs against the jam as it recovers from being swung once and it only barely survives the impact of the young Ork as he crashes into the frame, at the back of his mind a tinny almost imperceptible voice is screaming something ... it's echos reach Remy's conscious mind almost too late, he barrels into the doorway and is assaulted by a barrage of machine gun fire. "IT'S A TRAP, you FOOL!"

Dipping low he shoulders the door into the opening and it shields him from the worst of the damage, the gods take care of the rest as stray rounds ping perfectly away harmlessly as they strike the hardened plates in his lined coat, ricochets sounding all around the small room.

Looking up from the corner of the door he checks himself for damage, seeing none and feeling nothing through the adrenal haze, he lines the stolen SMG up and prepares to fire.

[Vegas]

23:01:42 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 - Underworld, 805 112th St SE, Everett, Seattle

Mac felt the shiver of anticipation roll down her body from her head all the way to her toes as she smiled back and nodded once. She only had one thing on her mind and it had nothing to do with showing off for the crowds.

“Their loss,” Her voice was husky and full of desire. “Private here, or did you have somewhere else in mind?”

[grendel]

23:02:05 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 - Underworld, 805 112th St SE, Everett, Seattle

"Private here is fine with me, I like this soundtrack." Kovacs scooped up the remaining pile of jute without bothering to coil it, stuffing it back into his satchel. It was a poor way to treat his tools, but time was of the essence. He didn't want to lose the energy of the moment.

"Lead on," he gestured to Mac.

[Vegas]

23:13:48 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 - The Dungeon, Underworld, 805 112th St SE Everett‎, Seattle

Mac led Kovacs deeper into the club, headed for a non-descript door toward the back of where a very muscular black man stood nearby, radiating an ex-military presence as his eyes watched the crowd. He gave a nod of recognition to Mac as she approached and regarded Kovacs cooly but respectfully. Stepping aside slightly, he revealed a numeric keypad glowing softly in the darkness.

"The real fun, the VIP room if you will, is downstairs." She explained as she entered her personal code an instant before the heavy door unlocked and allowed the bouncer to swing it open wide enough for the pair to pass through.

They stepped inside the stairwell, as the door closed with an audible series of clicks and hydraulics as it relocked behind them. The cacophony of the main room was left behind, replaced by a much more mood-oriented soundtrack at a much more respectable volume. Layered over the music was the sound of pleasure and pain, the snap of a whip or the sound of a hand slapping bare flesh. It drew Mac forward and she had to restrain herself from taking the stairs two at a time.

The bottom of the stairwell emptied out into a large open room. The Dungeon’s floor plan mirrored that of the main floor above it. Half the space was the visible open front room the two of them were standing in and the remaining was tucked away behind another cinderblock wall that hid the club’s storage, offices, freight elevator along with six, sizeable private rooms in which very few rules applied. Six LED lights glowed above the set of doors in the back wall, two red, one amber and three green.

The main room was decked out much like a fetishist’s fantasy country club. To one side was a smaller bar and groups of club chairs and tables set up for conversation. The rest of the room was loaded to bear with all kinds of gear, restraints of multiple materials, whips, crops and the like. The remaining open space was much like a communal play area, and there were a good 20 to 30 people taking advantage of the privilege.

Once they hit the floor Mac’s eyes scanned the room, lingering upon the lights above the door. A look of disappointment crossed her features as she realized the 4th light in the series was lit red, meaning her favorite room in the back, and the one she thought Kovacs might enjoy the most, was unavailable.

“Welcome to The Dungeon.”

[grendel]

23:22:19 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 - The Dungeon, Underworld, 805 112th St SE Everett‎, Seattle

"I've heard of this place," mused Kovacs, curiosity replacing feral hunger on his face. "Never been here, though."

He slid to the side, drawing Mac along with him so they looked more like players and less like gawkers confronted for the first time by the theater of flesh. He liked the machinery the club had spaced around, the spanking benches, the crosses, and a couple of medical tables. They even had one of the toaster frames that he found especially appealing, but he wasn't in the mood for a public scene anymore.

Neither was Mac. She gave him long enough to catch his bearings before leading him to the narrow hall through which the private rooms were accessed. With three open rooms there wasn't going to be a waiting list, but she still had to slot an ID to reserve the space. The console hummed to itself, then spat out a plastic passkey with the number five embossed on it.

Kovacs trailed Mac down the hall, his satchel slung over his left shoulder, admiring the sway of her hips as she walked. The stiletto boots did amazing things for the muscles of her legs, and he could feel the dark hunger returning, coiling at the base of his skull.

Sliding the keycard through the maglock revealed a room of limited, but directed aesthetics. The decor was dark cherry wood, crimson, and brass, the room dominated by the oversized king bed. The headboard and footboard were ornate scrollwork of vines, but a brush of his hand revealed them to be made of powdercoated steel, and each of the massive corner posts featured a recessed ring on the bedside, ideal for attaching a chain.

Kovacs set his satchel down on one of the three side tables, noting as he did so the pile of safe sex gear provided. He turned to Mac.

"Before we begin, we need to have a conversation. Because this is the first time we've done anything non-vanilla together, I need to know the answers to some questions. I'm going to assume a certain baseline level of experience, based upon your familiarity with the club and your reactions, or lack thereof, to the scenes going on. But I need to know what your limits are, and specifically, what is off limits?"

[Vegas]

23:25:37 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 - The Dungeon, Underworld, 805 112th St SE Everett‎, Seattle

Mac sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at Kovacs before crossing her legs at the knee, the dangerous smile returning to her lips before she licked them, preparing to rattle off her list.

“Hard limits? No permanent marks. Tattoos and body mods are negotiable, permanent scars or brands are not. That just equates to damaged goods in my usual line of work.”

She paused for a moment and bit her lower lip, as she thought further on her limits before shaking her head.

“Other than that, I’ll try anything… at least once. What about you? Any rules I’m not allowed to break when it comes to what you like?”

[grendel]

23:29:30 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 - The Dungeon, Underworld, 805 112th St SE Everett‎, Seattle

"Nothing to do with scat, piss, vomit, animals, or children. I'm okay with daddy/babygirl play, but it's not my favorite and I'm not that good at it. Other than that I have enough familiarity with most other fetishes to play safe. Rope is my primary fetish. I prefer to use the color code when controlling a scene. I'm going to assume that you're in condition green as long as you don't say anything. When you call yellow it means that you've reached the limit of intensity, but you're willing to continue as long as things don't get more energetic. If you call red, the scene ends because something has gone wrong. Understood?"

Kovacs was very direct, his voice level and his eyes holding Mac's. These negotiations were of critical importance, especially since he was liable to push some very dark buttons in her mind considering the events surrounding their first meeting. She nodded in reply, her smile fading slightly as she cued to his seriousness. He reached out and ran his hands over her bare shoulders, his fingers tracing over the fresh ropemarks left on her biceps. Drawing her to her feet, he undid the zipper on her halter top, pushing it back off her shoulders and cupping her breasts at the same time.

Mac shivered to the touch, the fires of her lust reigniting beneath his caress. She drifted forward, leaning into him, her mouth seeking his. The first brush of lips was soft, gentle even. She purred into his mouth, her hands on his arms, her hips pressed against his. Kovacs became more insistent, his hand winding in her hair, his lips bruising hers as he savaged her mouth. He growled, deep in his chest, and she answered, her hands curving into claws. She felt his grip on her arms, twisting, torquing, and they were on the ground together, his weight pushing her down, controlling her. Rope slithered around her body, pinning her wrists in place, looping around her arms in tight coils. Kovacs grabbed a fistful of hair, pulling her head back so he could bite savagely on her neck.

[Vegas]

23:32:07 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 - The Dungeon, Underworld, 805 112th St SE Everett‎, Seattle

Mac cried out in surprise as Kovacs' teeth found her flesh, her back arching up off the floor beneath him, pressing herself against his chest. With her arms immobilized and harnessed by his rope, she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and used a surprising amount of strength to draw him down against her. 

She hissed slightly as she wanted to drag her nails down his back but couldn't and instead she rolled her hips up against him, the heat of her body evident even through the leather. Her fingers spread out across the cool floor before clawing at empty air.

The ropes bit into her skin deliciously as she strained against them beneath Kovacs' weight. She was used to the feel of broken in stiff leather restraints or even chains instead of rope and she savored every new sensation that ran through her body, letting a low drawn out moan escape her lips and into his ear.

[grendel]

23:39:18 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 - The Dungeon, Underworld, 805 112th St SE Everett‎, Seattle

Kovacs' mouth was iron hot as it trailed over her skin, leaving behind hot pools of pleasure or pain wherever it came to rest. Mac writhed beneath him caught between sweet surrender and hungry demand. The implacable strength of his hands controlled her, pinning her in place as his mouth trailed lower, across the smooth flesh of her stomach to the tender junction of her hips. She felt her boyshorts peeled from her body, the heat from his mouth joining the heat between her legs.

Mac gasped, then cried out as Kovacs used his hands to cup the rounded curves of her ass, lifting her hips to him. She scissored her legs closed around his shoulders, pinning him in place. Not that he seemed to need encouragement, his mouth voracious on her skin. She threw her head back, eyes squeezed shut as the passion overtook her, stealing the breath from her lungs. She collapsed onto the floor, tension draining from her body. Only belatedly did she realize that Kovacs wasn't stopping, his tongue rasping against her sensitive skin.

"Nooo-AHH!" Mac struggled to get away, pushing at him with her heels. His arms looped around her legs as they wrestled, his strength matching her contortions. The rising tide of her passion gave her a burst of manic energy, and she came up bodily off the floor, torquing her hips over. But Kovacs rolled with her onto his side, curling a leg over her neck and bowing her torso back. She gurgled, choking, the sudden restriction pushing her over the edge again. Mac convulsed in the ropes, vision graying out for a moment until Kovacs eased up the pressure on her neck. She drew a wheezing breath, the sudden inrush of oxygen heating the dying embers of her orgasm anew.

[Vegas]

23:44:27 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 - The Dungeon, Underworld, 805 112th St SE Everett‎, Seattle
 
In an instant, fear cut a razor sharp line through the erotic haze Mac was enveloped in, her eyes going wide as she started to struggle and thrash beneath the ropes and the leg pressed against her throat. Just when her lips had parted to call out, Kovacs had let go and she gasped for air bringing her back to square one, ready to repeat the vicious cycle that constantly burned within her. 
 
Her body remained taut beneath him however, her survival instincts kicking in and holding her on the maddening, delicious edge of release. As Kovacs relaxed ever so slightly beside her, Mac took the opportunity to snake her body away from him, rolling up to her knees and sitting back on her heels to look down on him.
 
Darkness blazed in her eyes. Lust, hate, anger, passion, need, desire. Each and every emotion visible on her face and causing a chaotic riot in her head as her body craved more. More pain. More pleasure. A thin sheen of sweat decorated her chest as it rose and fell with every heavy breath.

She sat very still as she watched and waited, her arms twitching against the bonds at her side as she so desperately wanted to use her hands against him, to exact her own payback against his body.
 

[grendel]

23:52:41 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 - The Dungeon, Underworld, 805 112th St SE Everett‎, Seattle

Kovacs skinned out of his clothes as Mac rolled free, tossing them carelessly aside. His one concession was to ensure that his Colt was out of the holster and resting on the table next to his satchel. Turning back to Mac he found her twisting in the rope, her eyes burning, hands seeking freedom. He growled, low in his throat, feral hunger burning through him. She answered with a snarl of her own, and then he was on her in a rush, lifting her back in something that was almost a tackle before landing on top of her on the bed.

He thrust into her hard, battering, his hands wound in the rope and her hair, controlling her. His teeth found her skin again, and she bit back, drawing blood from his shoulder and his arm.

[Vegas]

23:58:24 Wednesday 10 January, 2063 - The Dungeon, Underworld, 805 112th St SE Everett‎, Seattle

Mac cried out against this shoulder as his body punished hers from above. She wrapped her legs around Kovacs’ hips, the heels of her boots digging into the backs of his thighs as she urged him on. Her moans, whimpers and cries meant only for his ears as the soundproofing of the room did its job.

Her hips rose off the bed to meet him, rhythmically falling and rising with each thrust, matching tempo and intensity. She had finally met her match in the bedroom, someone who could keep up with her if not outpace her. That thought pushed her over the precipice she was surfing and her legs tightened around him, holding him against her as waves of carnal intensity washed over her and she felt him peak moments after.

She bit her lip as she looked up at him, his blood smeared across her chin. Mac’s body relaxed beneath him as her legs unwound from his hips.

Jesus, what did you get yourself into girl.

[grendel]

00:05:07 Thursday 11 January, 2063 - The Dungeon, Underworld, 805 112th St SE Everett‎, Seattle

Kovacs rested over Mac on outstretched arms, eyes closed briefly as he calmed his breathing. He counted to four on his breaths, filling his blood with oxygen and settling his heart rate. At last he opened his eyes, gazing down at Mac, who looked back at him, blood smeared on her face and skin. His lips curled up in a rueful smile, and he rocked back on his legs.

"War wounds."

Reaching out, he began to untie her, moving with deliberate speed in order to let her body reacquaint itself with freedom. Once more his fingers traced the lines as the jute fell away, their warmth echoing that of the rope, holding Mac's energy in place to keep her from dropping out of the endorphin high too quickly.

With her arms free at last, Mac stretched with a sigh of pleasure. Kovacs tossed the rope onto the table, spooning his body against Mac, the cool synthetic of his cyberarm draping across her hip and thigh.

[Vegas]

00:13:51 Thursday 11 January, 2063 - The Dungeon, Underworld, 805 112th St SE Everett‎, Seattle
 
Mac nestled in against the warmth of Kovacs' body as her body continued to sing and hum with a slowly ebbing energy. Her own fingers traced over the grooves left by the ropes on her arms, sending shivers down her spine. She closed her eyes and sighed softly.

This is going to get complicated.

She rolled over onto her side and faced Kovacs, the leather of her boots creaking in the silence of the room. Her eyes moved across his face, trying to read him in the quiet as he was in his own head at that very moment. Self consciously, she reached up with the back of her hand and wiped at her skin before she sat up and swung her legs over the opposite edge of the bed an stood up, needing to put some distance between them.

"I should get cleaned up."

She walked across the room and palmed the cardkey off the counter as she passed. She stepped out into the hallway clad only in her boots and the lines of the ropes that she bore proudly. She slipped into the open bathroom across the hall and quickly cleaned the smears of blood that remained on on her face and neck. 

She paused to look at herself in the mirror, admiring the marks on her skin and the darkening welts on her neck. She closed her eyes and shook her head as she could already feel her blood boiling just beneath the surface again and she wasn't quite sure  she was done for the night.

Mac stepped back into the hallway and nodded to a couple exiting one of the other rooms. A pretty little thing behind led on all fours by a leash and a Dom who was in a hurry to lead his pet into the main room.

She re-entered room 5 with a smirk on her lips.


 

[grendel]

12:03:15 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

Remy snugs the stolen submachinegun into his shoulder, the selector switch thrown all the way to automatic as he sights through the holographic tube. The cargo bay of the Ares Roadmaster looms large beneath his gunsight, the red dot hovering on the chest of the attacker who was firing at him. He pulls the trigger, a snarl of victory curling his lips.

Unfortunately, Remy's luck had run out. A manufacturing defect, one in a million, had left the round unseated in its caseless propellant block. When the bolt stripped the round off the magazine, driving it into the chamber, the propellant shattered, the round itself winding up half in and half out of the chamber. When the firing pin falls on the primer, igniting it, the propellant deflagrates in a low-order explosion. Because the round prevented the bolt from being fully seated, hot gas and embers drop down into the magazine, igniting half the rounds. The weapon tears itself apart in Remy's hands.

[grendel]

00:16:14 Thursday 11 January, 2063 - The Dungeon, Underworld, 805 112th St SE Everett‎, Seattle

Kovacs sits cross-legged on the bed, still naked, coiling rope. Blood oozes from the raw wound on his arm, but doesn't appear to notice it. Instead he favors Mac with a lazy, predatory smile. He was at rest energy, relaxed and loose for the moment, but only for this moment. In another breath he would be ready with rope again for her.

As Mac closes the door behind her, he catches sight of her expression and cocks his head to the side in a silent question.

[Vegas]

00:18:47 Thursday 11 January, 2063 - The Dungeon, Underworld, 805 112th St SE Everett‎, Seattle

Mac shook her head slightly when she caught Kovacs' look.

"Just ran into a Dom and his pet in the hallway, leashed and ready for service."

She moved to the side of the bed, and watched as he re-wrapped the ropes back into neat bundles. Her eyes glittered as her lips pursed in slight disappointment, assuming their fun was drawing to a close for the evening. She crawled up onto the bed and stretched out along side of him as he finished up the last bundle.

"So why rope? I mean what drew you to it?" She propped herself up on her side her eyes continuing to study him.

[Mach_Ten]

12:03:15 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

Fo the second time in the last minute, Remy stares uncomprehending at his hands held out before him as they blur and remerge in his vision.

"Frag me!" He mutters to himself as he slumps against the wall, hopefully out of line of sight of the escaping team.
The pain is immense in his upper arms, neck and face. The armoured parts of his body bore the brunt of the explosion leaving these parts charred and shredded, with blood gushing in rivulets from what is probably a severed vessel under the flesh ripped open at his throat.

He leaves a thick trail of bright crimson on the plas-board as he lowers himself to the floor, each muscle screams in agony as it is flexed and released to move his body to a comfortable seated position, with his back against the wall and legs splayed out in front, he uses his left hand to put pressure on the seeping gash along his neck, not knowing if he's losing vital fluids in the last moments of life.

"Uncah Danny!, i finks I fragged up bad!" He almost whimpers, feeling as if the earth is coming up to swallow him whole.

[grendel]

12:05:43 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

Danny hears the explosion outside in the alleyway and his face goes white and pinched. Fearing the worst, he takes two steps towards the door only to be held up by Noland. The heavy ork is moving at sprinting speed, skidding around the corner of the backdoor in exactly the same way as Remy. His Ares Alpha once more stutters rounds downrange, two quick bursts followed by a pause as he ejects the magazine and reloads with one from the top most pouch on his load bearing gear. Then three more rounds rip downrange.

Again, he ejects the magazine, replacing it in the pouch before reloading and recovering the one half-spent one lying on the ground. Only then does he let the weapon drop on its sling and grab the back of Remy's armored jacket.

Remy's been busy staring into the gray sky and the gently falling snow, wondering if this was what it felt like to die. Distant thunder sounded in his ears, and for a moment he was confused that it was his heart beating triphammer fast. Then his shock-addled brain identifies the sound as more gunfire and he grimaces, knowing that this was what it meant to die. His world shuddered, and he found himself falling backwards across the ground, shadows crowding in around the corners of his eyes.

A face swam into his vision and he blinked. The exotic curves of Xade's cheekbones seem even more beautiful now that he was going to die.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice tinny and lilting in Remy's damaged hearing. He wants to say something profound and meaningful, his last words should be poignant. But all he can think of are some stupid song lyrics from K.A.L.'s summer hit.

"Love is like a freight train."

Xade's lips twist in wry humor. "I think he's going to make it, but we'll need to get him to a doc quickly."

She looks over at Danny. "The Star's going to be here pretty quickly as well. What are you going to tell them?"

Danny's already slung the shotgun over his shoulder, and he's busy pulling the harddrive from his trideo unit in the office. "You know, it's a good thing that I've kept up the payments on my disaster insurance for the store. When I found out that these three thieves broke in and managed to burn the place down while trying to open the safe, well, I've been meaning to move the store somewhere closer for years."

He grins, tight but functioning. He hadn't always owned a second rate pawn shop, his youth had been spent in adrenalized nights on the streets. That was years ago, but Lord it felt good to move and think in the old ways.

Noland appeared in the backroom, Joslyn slung over his shoulder. "He's fine, but he'll have one hell of a headache tomorrow."

Xade nods. "Help me get them outside to the truck."

The ork samurai grunts, hefting Remy's bulk in his other arm without noticeable effort. Together they exit into the alleyway. Danny's right behind, the *pop*fizzle* of the incendiaries igniting following him out.

12:29:37 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - 2820 Fontanel Ave, Redmond, Seattle

Remy emerges into reality again, staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling. Medical equipment around him beeps and whirs to itself, the autodoc purring as it plucks shrapnel from the wounds on his face and hands. Danny paces next to the bed, talking on his commlink.

"Yeah, it's a damn shame Joe, but I'm sure your guys will figure out that it was the acetylene torch that those thieves were using to try and break into the safe that caused the fire. Nope, definitely three of them. Oh yeah, all three died in the fire, too. Don't cry to me about paperwork, I figure that your Lone Star boys will be happy they don't have to add this to their docket. Look, it's an extra thousand in it for you. You can put it down as a donation to the Fireman's Ball from Danny's Pawn. You know it. Yeah, we're fine. I'll swing by the tavern on Friday and we can trade. I need to call my adjuster and let him know the bad news too. Whatever, frag him. Anyway, my best to Lucy and the girls. Talk to you later."

He hangs up and glances over, a smile growing on his face when he sees Remy's awake. "Hey kid, how're you feeling?"

[Mach_Ten]

12:31:28 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - 2820 Fontanel Ave, Redmond, Seattle

Blinking tears back as he opens his eyes in the harsh hospital neon lights, Remy winces as a mechanical arm whizzes into his field of view, pulling away nervously as it invades his personal space invoking the restraints around his head and arms that apply pressure to keep him in place as they work.

Only able to see Danny in the corner of his eye, but his presence is reassuring and the levels on the attached machinery indicate the lower registers of his stress.

Opening parched dry lips to speak, he croaks out "Dids She gives me da kiss of life den?" a smile cracks open lacerations on his face, reminding him of the operation at hand.

"No kid, She said she'd rather kiss a 'Roadkill Para-critter than some teenage tusk-face' .. her words pal, don't take it to heart"
Remy recognises the light hearted joke and the concern in his uncles voice and lets the sarcasm slide, for now.

"So, How is da uvver fella lookin' ? colder n' greyer than me I hopes?" the Auto-Doc flies over his left upper shoulder and Remy flinches as it applies a sterile spray skin to cover his flayed flesh,
"You gonna have ta ask Noland about that, I think he emptied hjs entire arsenal at them though"
white cold pain sears him and then numbs as the dressing takes effect.
"Fraaaaaag meeeee!" he hisses out the curse through gritted teeth.

"Apologies Monsieur De Vir, this unit is not fitted with that software program. for further upgrades to service, please contact Administration"
The robotic voice of the Auto-doc responds to him making both Remy and Danny pause and then burst into a momentary fit of laughter, before Remy enquires
"De Vir huh ? ..Dad knows you usin' his creds again ?"
Danny gives him a raised eyebrow and replies
"You ask too many questions kid, get some rest, you'll be outta here once they patch you up, can't afford the overnight, regardless of your old mans cred!"

Remy lies back and relaxes as the machine works meticulously over another patch of his flesh, wincing occasionally
"Hey Danny" he calls
"wassup kid?" his uncle responds, one hand on the door handle as he pulls it slowly open
"Can ya afford some drekkin annasfettic ?.. dis fings killin me!"
"Nah, sorry, I asked 'em to leave you a nice scar too, somethin fer the ladies, ya scan!" and with a grin he exits the room leaving Remy to the Doctor.

[grendel]

00:23:19 Thursday 11 January, 2063 - The Dungeon, Underworld, 805 112th St SE Everett‎, Seattle

Kovacs lets a soft smile crawl across his lips. Of all the questions he's ever been asked, this had to rank as one of the top five most difficult to answer. He took a breath, flipping the last bundle of rope in his hands, before glancing over at Mac.

"It isn't only about the rope. It's a means to an end and a means in and of itself. First, what attracts me is power, it is my main aphrodisiac. To have a woman surrender herself to me, to submit her body to my whims, to let my will supplant hers; there is no sweeter nectar in the world. But it is not enough for her to kneel and cross her wrists, to hold still when I inflict my pain upon her. The rope is there to ensure my will is enforced. It is there because the rope becomes my hands on her body, holding her arms down, holding her prisoner, reminding her that I am the one in control. And last, because no other form of restraint requires such diligence to master. Rope requires discipline and practice, repetition and innovation in order to combine inescapable restraint with pleasing aesthetics."

[Vegas]

00:25:27 Thursday 11 January, 2063 - The Dungeon, Underworld, 805 112th St SE Everett‎, Seattle

Mac nodded as she listened to Kovacs speak about what drew him on to the darker side, to rope, to the underlying current of it all…Power. In the right hands, she was a willing submissive. In most hands however she played the part with her ulterior motives to gain the upper hand without them being the wiser. It was always a power-play, the give and take that occurred, topping from the bottom per se. Her fingers trailed lazily along the slowly-fading marks on her arm and what Kovacs had said became crystal clear to her. The truth was, while they approached it from different angles, the pair of them weren't terribly different from one another and she smiled darkly.

Mac moved back to her knees with the grace of a cat and kneeled beside Kovacs, the leather of her boots crackling in the silence, much like the dark energy that sizzled inside her. Her voice was soft and raspy when she spoke.

“So, is that what you want to do to me? To hurt me?” Her eyes locked on his, their darkness almost begging for his answer to be yes.

[grendel]

12:36:34 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - 2820 Fontanel Ave, Redmond, Seattle

Joslyn returns to reality to find himself slumped in an uncomfortable plastic chair in some anonymous waiting room. Across from him is the bulky ork Noland, his face expressionless as he regards the door leading back to the examination room. Through the open doorway, Joslyn can hear the voices of Remy and Danny.

As Remy curses the constant low-level irritation, the doctor sweeps into the room. He's wearing a full length white lab coat and surgical mask. His eyes are electric blue full replacement, with the slight bulk that comes from multiple microscopic enhancements.

"And how are we doing?" he asks, his fingers dancing in the air as he interfaces with the autodoc's AR menu. Remy opens his mouth to answer but the doc doesn't wait. "Ah, excellent, coming along well. You should be finished here in a few minutes. Make sure you keep the wounds covered and clean."

He's gone before the young ork has a chance to say anything, replaced by Xade.

"How you doing, kid?"

[grendel]

00:26:12 Thursday 11 January, 2063 - The Dungeon, Underworld, 805 112th St SE Everett‎, Seattle

Kovacs touches the tip of his tongue to his lips before setting his face carefully.

"The question isn't if I want to hurt you. The question is how much will you let me hurt you."