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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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."

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.

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.”

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.

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?"

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.

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?”

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.

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?”

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.”

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.

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.

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.

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?”

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.

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.”

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?"

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?”

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.

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.

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.

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.
 

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.

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.

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.

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.


 

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?"

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.

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."

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.

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?"

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."