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 Posted: Mon May 16, 2011 10:06 pm
Christof simply lay face down on the floor, curled up tight as his hands returned to his hair, btu the rocking had stopped. The sobbing had stopped. She had left. Jericho had left. Everyone was busy.
His Mistress didn't give second chances, and he had blown it, somehow he had blown it, he didn't understand, but he supposed he didn't need to understand. It was all a lesson of some sort. Some sort of lesson he couldn't fathom. A sick experiment of his Master's- his REAL Master's- to put him here where people were confusing and horrible and he floundered to find his place.
He wasn't a broken Igor. He was no Igor.
Silently, he gathered himself up to sit and stared at his fallen nose just a few feet away.
She didn't care that he would die for her. She had the minions she wanted. She wanted minions she didn't have to think about, didn't have to worry about. Ones that would do her bidding without hesitation- no, he would never hesitate. She could tell him to rip himself apart and he would have, even without her mark and a contract compelling him. She was the ultimate Master- what ever Igor looked for, strive to work for- to live for- she would find a better, more reliable, older and more experienced Igor.
He picked up the nose and put it in his pocket, slowly gathering himself up to his feet.
As though in a trance, he drifted towards the supply closet, the key still in his pocket, now in his hand, now unlocking the door, now back in his pocket as he lifted the gun into his hands, filling the container with red balls.
He put the helmet back on his head, and gripped the gun tightly.
There was nothing more for it.
No more Masters.
It was just him.
No more Masters.
He cocked the gun.
It was time for N.A.P. club.
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Posted: Mon May 16, 2011 10:10 pm
She wasn't supposed to be there.
That was their business; always had been, always will be. That odd feeling returned to her chest; that familiar feeling she had been trying to ignore for a long time now. As she continued to stare at the floor, she pretended she wasn't listening; they belong in different worlds - literally and figuratively, really... Doesn't matter if she cared or not.
She heard someone walk past her, and she closed her eyes; it was Riley... Followed shortly by Jericho and then who she assumed to be Aksaja.
Silence returned to the room. There was only Christof left.
Standing up, she smoothed out the creases on her shorts before walking past the Patchwork and to where she had left her duffel bag. Grabbing it, she slung her towel around her neck before walking out, casting Christof (who seemed to be busy with something) a side glance; despite everything he had done to Amrita, he had also done a lot for her.
Poor, confused boil...
A lot was left unsaid as she walked out the door; she had finally made up her mind about something important... And she needed to cry for a bit. The bleaching can come later.
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Posted: Tue May 17, 2011 6:16 am
For once Sammy didn't raise a finger, she simply watched. In the past she would happily push Riley's buttons just to mess with her ever so slightly, but this time, this time she saw just how angry the mindflayer could really get. The only thing she managed to do was cover Siddie's eyes when Jericho had the negligence to forget his towel.
When it was finally said and done she returned to a private room to put on her daily clothes and head back out into the main room of the fitness club, Riley had stormed off, and... for some reason the supply closet was left open? Poking inside she found a missing helmet and a missing gun.
s**t.
With out another word she slammed the supply door shut and started out into the hall looking for Christof or a student with a missing gun and helmet.
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