Thirst Unending: A Romp of Sugar and Stimulants from Omega to the Endless Hunt to the Mojave Desert. BOOK 3 Begins! Lets smooch a cleric beast!

[Princess Scribe]

Group Chat with: Becky's Bals Rebecca Tell Camlos child soldiers aren't victims. Quadzilla I was a child soldier Doctor Girlfriend You should have this talk with me around. ]Rebecca No, he's calling me a victim! I'm going to shoot him. Quadzilla HAH Doctor Girlfriend Please? Rebecca He's saying that everything I did was bad and manipulative. I got to learn to cook! Birdy You killed people who weren't fighters because they were there! Your command was crazy! Quadzilla I did that too, Command was pretty crazy though. Rebecca They were fighting our allies! The traffickers funded most of our operations! Doctor Girlfriend My love, please, I'll beg on my knees if I must, wait for me to be around, please! Rebecca Fine, but I saved Camlos so many times today. So fucking victimize that dickhead.

Whilst in the real world, Camlos looks over, "You didn't save me that many times!" Following the doctors advice as well.

"You're only counting the times I stopped you from walking into enemy fire, I'm sure. Not the times you just fucking... Were completely unaware of shit around you." Rebecca bit off angrily, "That Batarian didn't like, magically fall on that grenade."

"And what about the warnings of people around corners! I was listening FAR not NEAR!" Camlos shouts back, now stomping into Rebecca's personal space. Staring her down with a pointed talon.

"The ones that I was clearing, incredibly easily? Because I am actually good at this? Better even? Why am I asking that last one." Rebecca said back, so fucking smug after fighting with Camlos. "I definitely know I'm better at this."

"Yeah yeah, and if I weren't there, you'd have forgotten the way out! And missed the rifle!" Camlos bites back with a trill and a hiss all the same.

"You almost went down the wrong hallway. You kept the rifle!" Rebecca said shocked, trying to figure out what the fuck he was saying, "Are turians born with an unhealed soft spot? Did your mom use your skull as an ashtray? The fuck are you even saying?"

"What? No I didn't! You took an alternate route! It all meets in the middle! I know the ship design! I fought in these ships in anti-pirate ops!" Camlos is similarly shocked, "D'you think I was talking out of my ass!?"

"You said left, left, right, right, left, turbolift, right." She rattled off quickly, "We went left once, and then you tried to go right. How the fuck did you do anything if you can't count to two!?"

"Fuck you!" Camlos shouts, "I knew where we were going!" He defends himself.

Rebecca laughed, knowing she won, "So, I remembered the directions. I found the Salarian so we didn't get blasted out of the sky. I beat the krogan in hand to hand combat. I fucking stopped you from getting killed."

Camlos opens his arms wide, "So if I'm so useless, why don't I just leave!?"

She opened fire into his legs, immediately with the assault rifle, without thinking, nearly detaching them. "Oh god, oh god I'm so sorry!" As he screams in pain.

She quickly took a picture.

Group Chat With: Becky's Bals Rebecca WHAT DO I DO!??! [pic attached 20.7 mb] Doctor Girlfriend is typing... Quadzilla is typing ... Quadzilla Make a nugget out of him so he's even Doctor Girlfriend Apply medigel to the wound, then bind and compress. Get him to me soon, so we can save the legs. Rebecca @Birdy(Camlos Mercaion) For later, im so sorry, you said you were going to leave. I love you don't be mad.

The real world contains a gasping Camlos, "Agh! Fucking! Agh!" He's screaming at the injury.

"Sorry. I'm so sorry." Rebecca said, grabbing medigel out of a medpack. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Please don't say that in a fight though. I'm really unstable."

"What!? Agh!" The only response Camlos has is continual screaming and vague words.

She knelt down to apply the medigel, and found what looked to be a leg cast for Turians. Smearing the medigel, and then clamping a large gel filled tube on it. Rebecca took out a pain hypo, and jammed that into the man's neck. "Don't say you're going to leave while we're yelling and I have a gun. You just learned I was a child soldier. I'm not socialized."

"So you admit you were victimized!" He still doesn't let it go, growling and rumbling past the pain.

She punched him in the throat, growling. Then she stopped immediately, backing up, "SHIT, sorry! Sorry. sorry." Getting away from him. Rebecca saw that the rifle was next to her, and she collapsed it and tossed it away, far away.

"Fuck-Grk," Camlos feels the impact, and starts to control his breathing, staring up at the ceiling with the pain, "Shit." He wheezes.

Oh god, he will leave you, now he's really going to leave you. Rebecca would need the gun. She stood up slowly, trying to sneak past him to where she threw it.

"G-get the f-fuck back here." The Turian demands, as a claw dug into her ankle, but not before she reached her weapon.

Rebecca pointed the discarded rifle at Camlos, "DON'T LEAVE AFTER THIS."

"HOW DOES POINTING A GUN AT ME HELP!?" He shouts back.

"IT WASN'T A REQUEST!" Rebecca said terrified. Now the closest she's ever been to crying.

"PUT THE GUN DOWN, SPIRITS FUCKING DAMNIT!" Camlos shouts again.

Rebecca screamed back, "NO IT MAKES ME FEEL VERY SAFE AND IN CONTROL!"

"IT MAKES ME FEEL LIKE I'M UNSAFE AND YOU'RE OUT OF CONTROL!" Camlos screams now.

"YES, WELL, I HAVE THE GUN. THAT MEANS I DECIDE." Rebecca felt her logic was unassailable, even as claws dug further into her leg.

The shuttle finally docks, clunking into the Omega shipyard as a knock on the door sounds out. The back of it opening slowly. Rebecca was completely unaware of what was happening besides the sheer panic of her current situation.

"SO YOU JUST STAY. WITH ME. FOREVER. OR ELSE YOUR FOREVER WILL BE VERY SHORT." Rebecca screamed.

"DON'T FUCKING THREATEN ME INTO THE RELATIONSHIP YOU DUMB BITCH, I LOVE YOU!" The Turian hiss-rumbles out, the real language coming out behind the translation.

"I don't know what to do now. I'M PANICKING." Rebecca yelled, "I'm... WILL YOU BE LESS YELLY IF I SHOOT YOU AGAIN?"

"I'LL BE MORE YELLY IF YOU SHOOT ME!" Camlos yelled back.

"STOP YELLING AND I WON'T SHOOT!" Rebecca saw that Lisa had walked in and she pointed the gun at the doctor. "I defended slavers, the relationship doesn't change."

"Put the gun down lover." Lisa calmly states, in her white and blue doctors garb, a flicker of blue-black in the air around her.

Just behind Lisa, Vro is standing there with a look of menace at Rebecca that promises severe punishment. She dropped the gun immediately when Vro looked at her, collapsing it and tossing it aside. Before scuttling backwards quickly, to the opposite side of the cockpit.

"Thank you." Lisyris breathes out a tinge of anxiety as Vro walks forwards in heavy, solid steps, pushing Lisa aside much to her surprise. Standing before Rebecca with that same menacing expression.

"You're an idiot. You're acting weak. You are weak. None of that stands. Understood?" Vro doesn't give room to disagree, there's two answers here, Yes, and anything else, and only one of them is right.

"Yes! Sorry. Yes." Rebecca meeped.

A Krogan hand grabs Rebecca by the shoulder and lifts her up and into the air, pulling her over to Camlos, laying her next to him. An arm is made to be thrown over his body as Vro growls, "Make up."

Camlos looks baffled at what the fuck is happening.

Exactly like a small child having been caught with her hand in the candy jar, she says "I'm... Sorry I tried to blow your legs off so you couldn't run away. It was... Maybe an overreaction to the situation."

"It was a weakling reaction." Vro grumbles, flicking at Rebecca's ear.

Rebecca groans as an incredibly sharp pain hits her, "It was wholly the wrong reaction. Entirely. No maybes."

"You'll never do anything like it again. Or I will airlock you." Vro instructs further on what to say.

"I won't, I won't do anything like that again. To any of you. There were a few key choices that were incorrect." Rebecca said quickly, clearly more upset at disappointing the krogan, than almost anything else.

"You are grateful he still loves you, and feel privileged to have such a mate." Vro finishes, flicking at the Marine's ear again to get her to start repeating.

"Ow, he didn't say he still loved me." Rebecca groaned, "I lit him up like the fourth of July. I don't want to assume."

"Spirits, I feel like an idiot for still loving you." Camlos groans past the pain, finding some comfort in the cool floor, more in Rebecca's shoulder.

"I meeeeean you're not wr—" Before another flick could come down, she said, "Thank you for still loving me. Anyone you choose is incredibly lucky to have your attention. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

"There, now you're passably even." Vro grumbles again, giving one last flick for its own sake, this time at the back of Rebecca's head. "You'll be regretting this more later. Right now the Turian needs you." The Krogan ancient rumbles off as he stomps away, "Start shit and I'll break you." He warns going out the door.

Rebecca whispered curling up. "He's so nice."

Lisa is, as is rarely the case, left utterly speechless and standing there with a baffled surprise on her face. "I ... I'll get the hover-car ready." She murmured, not seeing how she can help without her clinic.

Camlos groans, getting up on his elbow.

Rebecca kneeled next to him, "Stop, I'll carry you, I mean if you want. I can't shoot you if my hands are full." She tries for a joke, but no-one seemed to find it very funny.

"The only positive of this." Camlos says as he vaguely waves a hand for him to be helped up.

She scooped him into a princess carry, and stood.

"Is that the kiss I'm about to get is gonna be wild." His joking tone, past the pain, is a balm to some anxiety.

She gives him a small peck on the head, whispering, "I'm so so so sorry. That wasn't right, I know that wasn't right. God, this is just like my first boyfriend. Oh, thank god you'll live."

Camlos breathes in, and then out, controlling the pain of mildly moving legs, "You're officially in the top three most dangerous women I've ever been with. For my health."

"I've only done this twice." She whispered, "I don't really know like ... I don't know. It felt like the right move. I think my social instincts are off."

"You think?" Camlos grimaces, trying not to laugh from the pain that'll cause while they come up to the door of a hovercar, driven by Vro.

Rebecca winced as she gently laid him in the car. "Maybe, I was doing really well until like, right now."

"We'll talk about this when my legs work." Camlos sighs, starting to close his eyes.

Rebecca hissed quietly "No, you can't go to sleep after an injury! That kills you!" She starts to vigorously shake him.

"Gah-FUCK-STOP! I'M AWAKE! SHIT!" Camlos sputters and shouts at the waves of agony. The hover-car starts moving, door closing automatically and shutting Rebecca in while Vro directs it to the clinic.

Rebecca let out a sigh of relief, and she hugged him the tightest she could, trying not to break him, but hold him like a steel trap.

 

[Princess Scribe]

It's been four hours, and Lisa finally comes out of the operating room with sweat beading on her forehead and a look of exhaustion. Meanwhile Vro has been having Rebecca hold a piece of paper out in front of her, arms fully extended, for the whole time as "Discipline building".

"I managed to return leg function. He should make a full recovery in a few days." Lisa said, brushing a hand across her brow as Vro grumbles vaguely.

Oh thank god, Rebecca breathed out a sigh of relief without moving. Waiting for permission to move or talk.

"You're privileges are back." Vro orders, and then sits back down, starting to nap.

"OH thank god, thank you so much Lisa. Thank you, I'm sorry." Rebecca said it quickly, rapidly, her words tripping over each other. "That was— none of that was right. Every step of that was wrong."

"Lover, just go and hug Camlos. He needs the comfort from you." Lisa moves out of the way.

Rebecca starts to sprint, but after two steps, stops, "Oh uh... Like... How fragile are his legs right now? Also, What does 'None of this stands' mean?"

"They're alright, don't make him walk overly much." Lisa said while Vro grumbles again.

"Can he be... Uh... Rode?" Rebecca asked, "And what does none of this stands mean?"

"I'll explain later." Vro orders, pointing at the door.

She groaned, but sprinted into the hospital room, shoulder checking the door and stopping at the shock and fear on Camlos face. "Sorry I..." Rebecca put her hands together under her nose. "I'm excited to see you well."

The Turian breathed out a sigh of relief from the clinic bed, a mechanical thing that can reorder chunks of itself to pull to any position, "I just got out of a firefight, don't kick in doors, Rebecca." He chuckled.

"Oh you're fine you won." Rebecca said with a snort sitting on the bed next to him.

"You okay Becky?" Camlos asked, looking concerned despite being the one that was shot merely four hours ago.

She swallowed, touching her eyes, "I... am more worried about you right now."

The Turian put a clawed hand on Rebecca's thigh, "Hey, I'll be here. What's going on? We don't talk enough." He's soft and smooth voiced.

Rebecca got very mopey and said, "You've talked to me more than anyone has in a decade."

There's a wry grin as the lightly doped Turian sees an opportunity that he wouldn't normally take, "We'll never talk enough, Rebecca. Not enough minutes in the day." He smoothly lets the sentence leave him with a smile.

Her eyebrows furrow at first, she watched him carefully, letting the words mull over before popping off. "Oh. oh that's sweet. You're saying something nice." She leaned over and gently kissed him. "That was awesome. Thank you, you like... Never say things like that."

"I'm not good at compliments, they're hard to like..." He's close, blue tongue visible past a completely relaxed jaw, sharp teeth that've never unintentionally hurt Rebecca on display along the sides, "Get out, without sounding dumb."

"I don't know what the smart ones sound like, if that helps." Rebecca said quietly kissing him again. "I... It makes me really happy. You make me happy. I'd've been really unhappy if you couldn't walk. Please be more careful, I will too, I promise."

"I'd have been pretty unhappy if I couldn't walk too." Camlos jokes as his hands settle on Rebecca's waist, "I'll not say that stuff, its ... bad to use it as a weapon. But shooting's over the line by a few miles too, okay?"

"Yeah, it's weak." Rebecca said with a nod, "I'm not going to do weak shit. Next time I'll try something else." It was extremely vague, and it was clear she hadn't figured out quite what she wanted to do. She knew the basics of CQC at least.

"Let's talk about that later. Right now you're ... honestly really hot." He chuckled, grinning a Turian grin. "I was kinda losing it in the fight, wanted to, uh ... you know."

Rebecca nodded, agreeing with him, "That would have been fine, like, if we were really quick. You don't struggle with that."

"Neither do you, when we figured out my tongue works great." Camlos fires back with a quick lick, the tongue extending out four inches to touch her neck with hot flesh.

She gives him a deeper, more thorough intrusive kiss. Calming almost immediately, the taste of Turian inextricable from feelings of warmth and companionship. "There's also just like ... Way safer ways to break someone's legs."

"Rebecca, stop telling the man whose legs you broke, how you coulda done it better." Camlos is intensely amused by the words.

"I'm still thinking about next time, sorry." Rebecca kissed his neck, the very soft skin there intensely sensitive, afterwards, suckling on it gently. "You like ... Lose most times hand to hand. That would have been smarter, I think. Ankles are also load bearing, and can be healed."

"Couldn't ever really win against you." Camlos said through a building trill at the kissing, wriggling almost imperceptibly, "Heart won't let me." He admits, the free taloned hand resting on the back of Rebecca's head as she kisses him.

"I know I love you, because the last time I was in that situation, I just iced him when he called me a bitch." Rebecca whispered, clearly thinking this was a very sweet and romantic thing to say. "Pop. Next time will be much safer." She returned to his neck.

"You're a crazy bitch." Camlos chuckles, "You're my crazy bitch though." He starts shifting, helping Rebecca move overtop him with another chuckle.

"If you call me the B word again," Rebecca said, in a sing-song voice, hoping it would help be less threatening, "I'll close your windpipe. Permanently."

"No you won't." Camlos smiled, looking at Rebecca with a sparkle in his eyes, and his voice is a rumble, backed by the trill behind it to vibrate through both of them like a living sound.

"True, I'll get the doctor to fix it." She kissed his chest, "The doctor says I can ride you. That also will not happen either." Though even as she said it, she walked to the OR door, and locked it, before turning the blinds shut. She set her omni-tool to play music as well, not overly loud but very energetic and fast-paced. She removed her hard-suit with a few button presses, and then stopped, "Oh uh, did you ... I didn't ask. I just assumed."

"I dunno. Might be too tired.~" Camlos grins, playing up the exhaustion in his voice, "You think I'm too tired?" He's playful when badly hurt, as it turns out.

Rebecca typed into her wrist, pulling up a number with a picture. "That asari gave me her contact details when I stabbed her. You can just do that by swinging these things next to ea—" She stopped, "Oh, she definitely didn't make it off that ship did she?"

"No, not really. Not unless she somehow limped to a pod with a chunk of torso missing." Camlos chuckled, finding the immediate failure of the tease greatly entertaining as he lets his talons cut through the sides of a hospital gown. Twelve credits right there.

"God, so out of the four people who hit on me here, I have a fifty percent fatality rate." She groaned at the math. "I guess it's up to you whether that becomes seventy-five."

Camlos starts to lean up, testing the ground curiously with his legs, pushing the joke further with a grinning expression.

"You stupid fuck, get back in bed!" She yelled angrily, "The fucks wrong with you." She picked him up and then gave him a light toss. "WHY?!"

He bounced on the bed with a small laugh, "'Cause I like you," He simply said, as if that explained everything. Then with a gentle flick, his talon tore in half Rebecca's bra.

Rebecca gasped, "One sec, let me just make sure we have a ton of medigel." She grumbled that out, "These bras are getting expensive. Each one is sixty credits."

"Oh yeah, I'm super, uh, lacking in hand-eye whatever right now, I might actually scratch you, if that changes anything." Camlos warns, ignoring the bra comment for now.

She walked over to the bed, finding the leather cuffs, and pulled them out, pinning both hands to his sides. Rebecca had a hypo of medigel in her mouth, and took it out.

She quickly punched him hard in the throat, before sticking it with the hypo. Narrowing her eyes at him, she said, "That bra was a gift."

Camlos started coughing and laughing at the same time. Whatever Lisa gave him making a punch to the throat merely uncomfortable instead of cripplingly painful, "You know-cough- I'm curious." As he grins at the human woman with a sparkle in his eyes, "When do I get to be on top?" He tests the cuffs, straining the leather before pulling back, letting them hold fast.

 

[ptbptb]

Ideas for T-shirt merch.

• Front: "Don't say Leave", Back: Picture of someone with legs shot off. "Told you."
• "People say, 'Don't stick it in crazy'. I say, 'Less competition'"
• "It's a trade-off. I come with baggage, you cum with me."

 

[Princess Scribe]

Some scenes in our fics, feel like they need more explicit trigger warnings then normal
This is one of them. You can skip this thread mark entirely if you are bothered by:
Gunplay​

"I mean ... You've never really asked." Rebecca thought about it, "I just. You kind of let me bully you whenever I want, I hadn't really thought about that being a thing you wanted." She was reaching under the sheet as she spoke, absent mindedly.

The Turian chuckles, feeling the touch and moving into the hand as it nears, "I'm happy to do most anything. Not really a hardline anything in bed." He sighs as Rebecca reaches something.

"I don't know if this is the best or worst time to bring this up." Rebecca says as she feels him stiffen in her grip, "It was really hot shooting you, before I got scared."

Camlos chuckles, sinking into the feeling of Rebecca's touch, staring to dive into the familiar ocean, "You know, we are in a clinic, and I don't really feel much pain right now." He teases with a wicked look in his eyes, turning to slits as they get excited, purple flowing through his plates.

Rebecca lit up, and stopped, grabbing the gun she kept in the OR in case someone tried to rob them. She pointed it at him and considered where to fire.

"Face, groin and joints are off limits." Camlos idly says, looking down the gun barrel without much fear. "And the time to medigel is five seconds in the torso, up to a minute at the limbs." Oh he's got rules for this.

She almost fired. The trigger almost depressed past the safe point. Rebecca stopped, and went to the omnitool.

Group Chat With: Becky's Bals Rebecca Discharging a pistol. Camlos was turned on by it. Me too. Not murdering anyone.

The resulting pings are mostly ignored as Camlos asks, "Why did you stop though? You don't need both hands."

"Oh, if I fire a gun after nearly blasting your legs off, they're going to think I killed you." Rebecca said returning to the bed. She placed a medigel pack against his stomach, and held it there with the gun. Her other hand went under the covers, and she found doing the two things simultaneously a little hard to manage.

Camlos seals his lips to Rebecca's with a heated fervor. As he deepens the kiss, his tongue expertly explores her mouth. Rebecca increases the pressure of her hand against him, finding a rhythmic balance of quickened pace and tension.

Hers is a tension expressed cleverly; careful pressure is applied on the trigger by one hand while fevered sensation consumes her, fueled by the mutual warmth they share. The interaction sends Camlos from a simmering humidity into a state of fervor. His mounting reaction pulses violet streaks across his plates.

She adjusted the weapon's position, putting the medigel pack and gun into his thigh. Letting her mouth move to the spiral ridged member as she gets hit with the familiar taste of sweetness immediately. Her head gently working it, suckling at the tip. After a few rapid movements, she tried to let her throat relax as she forced her mouth to the hilt, and pulled the trigger. The gunshot rings out, and he yelps as medigel follows the bullet through.

He gasps, not screaming as his whole body stiffens and freezes, not wanting to buck, fighting that instinct hard as he tries to hold himself steady, leather cuffs groaning and complaining against the shifting muscle and plate of the Turian while groans and gasps leave him.

Her thumb quickly sets the pistol to automatic and her movements become frantic, making him both ecstatic and concerned. The gunshot pulses with a trickle of blood the medigel didn't stop. The familiar sweet taste bringing back familiar cravings. It seemed to have definitely made a different as she could feel him buck and twitch with the pain with every crack of a pistol. The shots were forced to stop by the emergency heat dispersal kicking in as he gasps again at her tongue. She flicked it around in her hand and pressed the top of the burning heat sink into his flesh, burning a circle into his plates with a scream.

That seemed to have gotten what she wanted, as his body flexed with live-wire rigidity and her mouth flooded with sticky sweetness. Somehow she was always shocked by the amount, despite the fact she repeatedly tried the same feat. Having it quickly choke her, and then spill out as she can't hold it all. She coughed, but went back to make sure he got to watch her lick every last drop. Staring him in the eyes the entire time as he can barely maintain sanity.

Moaning gasps leave him until he finally slumps, staring at Rebecca with a glimmer, a smile, and a rebuilding excitement.

"Er ... Burning and gunshots are the same thing, right? It's all gunstuff?" She asked, before licking her index finger and taking a deep breath.

"Next time, ask." Camlos rumbles out as the trill starts to build again, recovering fast. "We're not done." He reaches over and grabs Rebecca, pulling her atop her, the snapped remnants of a leather cuff left behind.

It was a good thing as well, as she had started to curiously move the gun towards his pelvis, noticing that one part was not on the no fly list. He chuckles, letting his tongue move out and start to tease at a breast, wrapping around it with rivulets of fluid and teasing at the peak.

"Was that a no?" She whispered, pressing the gun between their legs as she settled on his thighs. He doesn't answer save for a trill as his tongue starts moving faster across Rebecca's chest, teeth ever so carefully nipping, barely not breaking skin by some effort of self control as the sharp tips are like razors otherwise, teasing and torturing alike, perhaps one in the same. She was positive the penis wasn't part of the groin, as she tilted his chin up and kissed him back. He also wasn't saying no, but that felt like something you probably needed a clear yes on. She pulled back for just a second.

"I've been working in a doctor's office, and I might have misunderstood." She said, tapping his member with the gun, "No groin because there's an artery there, or no groin because you thought it included this."

"I need that, Rebecca." The Turian starts to say.

Her eyes went wide as she smiled, "Beg me not too. These were your rules."

His eyes go wide as a trill builds, immediately dispelling the illusion he's not excited, "Shit."

"Oh. oh sorry." She puts the gun down immediately, "You have to learn I'm crazy. You need to figure that out fast."

"Did I tell you to stop." Camlos growls, disappointed by the stoppage, eyes narrowing, not quite realizing what he's asking.

She looked at him, and then picked up the gun and fired at an angle to hit nothing vital, puncturing a small hole through the tip and dragging a sudden scream from Camlos as his claws dig and scrabble on the metal bed.

"I'm surprised you wanted that, to be honest." Rebecca said with her eyes wide.

"Spirits damnit! I wasn't expecting you to just do it!" Camlos admits in breaths and gasps, looking at the gun.

She was already reloading, putting in a fresh chunk of metal. "It was on empty, ok, so automatic?" Rebecca switched the safety over.

Camlos immediately stares at the gun in a terrified expression, "Le-lets calm down a little, eheh." The fear mixes in with arousal and pain in a heady aura, coming off him almost visibly in the micro-expressions and tiny gestures of discomfort and pain and fun and fear, fingers scrabbling.

"Oh, right, probably should get medigel on the um..." She trailed off, rubbing medigel on the pierced flesh, making sure it healed properly, watching. "Oh, good, it heals reallly well. I guess because it's a pretty simple piece all things told."

"Hey, uh, lets, uh-" Camlos freezes.

She points the gun again, taking a deep breath, not entirely sure if she was going to go through with it. It seemed pretty intense, but also god was it fun. "Okay, on three."

She switched it to automatic again, "One..."

"Hey, oh shit, lets calm down Rebecca, I, uh, I'm a little scared." Camlos starts to say.

"Two... Well that's why I'm counting?" Rebecca pauses for a moment.

"Okay, I lied, I'm a lot scared, Spirits--"

She interrupts him "Three!" Then stops pulling the gun away, "Oh wait shit on three? Or three then shoot?"

"How about we, uh, r-rethink--" The stutter is adorable as he looks between the gun and the woman, a smooth and normally steady voice turning to putty and jello at the threat.

"Oh my god," She says kissing him with a peck on the head, "You're so cute, okay. On three? I think I should get a yes actually. Or... Well... Is 'I didn't say no' a yes? What's... Hm. How do I know?"

The Turian admits with a tremor, "I'm really scared Rebecca."

Rebecca stared at him, it was definitely a fun thing to say but why'd he keep repeating it? Wait. shit "Jesus christ, I was going to actually shoot you, you moron. Say don't or stop or like... Anything."

"We need a safeword, fuck." Camlos leans back against the bed.

"What's that?" Rebecca asked as she puts the gun down. "Also, you so desperately need to watch what you say and ask for. I'm attentive. That can be bad."

"If I say.... red, stop. If I say....yellow, slow down." The Turian says, eyes closed as he recovers.

"Okay, I can follow that." She picks up the gun again nodding. "Wait, your eyes are closed, I picked up the gun again. You need to look so I don't shoot in the wrong place."

His eyes snap open again as he stares at the gun ,"Shit," He murmurs quietly.

It wasn't BDSM so much as it was target practice. Rebecca seemed more interested in watching the live body writhe under a new type of bullet. She placed a medigel pack on the turians gut where she thought the intestines were.

"W-wow I really underestimated--" Camlos freezes.

Then she pressed the gun against it, but waited for a second. "Oh, wait you can't say stop if I shoot you while you're talking."

Breathing hard, he barely, in an adorably quiet whisper, gets out, "I'm done talking right now." Eyes turned to reptilian slits of blue on green.

"So wait, that's..." Rebecca asked looking at him confused, "That's not red right?" Before he could answer she unloaded, once again mag dumping into the turian. Steaming blood squirts onto her hands and stomach. This ruled, "I really love this." She said, licking the blood off her hand, "Oh my god that's sweet too."

She did a quick search, and then pointed the gun against what a hate-filled site called "A gusher." Where Turians seemed to spurt from when shot, just in the crook of the neck making the writhing Camlos gasp. The hot barrel sizzling a circle into the carapace.

"Your blood is sugary." Rebecca's eyes were wide and horrifically delighted. "Oh my god, yes. I'm probably going to get sick from how much comes out but yes."

Camlos breathes hard, staring with pained eyes as his claws settle on Rebecca's hips, "Ride me." He says, formulating something near to a plan in his mind.

She fired. "No." The impact sends a spray of arterial blood that coats Rebecca's face with the hot, sweet blue blood.

Group Message With: Becky's Bals Doctor Girlfriend I'm sorry? Quadzilla Haha, he's getting destroyed Doctor Girlfriend This can't be safe, Rebecca!

 

[Princess Scribe]

"So, after I found the last artery, Camlos found his limits." Rebecca finished the story to Lisa, "God. Turian blood is so sweet."

Lisa seemed amused more than anything, while Camlos is laying on a couch, somewhat shellshocked. Lisa was gently petting him, he has a blanket, a glass of water, and his eyes are wide and staring at something distant far past the walls of the open-space living area. There was a slight smile, and it didn't seem like he wanted to run, he certainly hadn't tried.

The blood loss would have prevented that anyways.

Movers, in the background had packed Camlos's things and were transporting them to his new room in the Condo. They flit in the background and were just putting away the last of the boxes. The Salarian that was supervising them seemed incredibly uncomfortable, and some of the turian movers were wincing at some parts of the story.

"Hopefully, the next firefight now, he'll see being shot's not a huge deal compared to getting the kill. So, it was also a learning experience!" Rebecca said. She was quite pleased, all in all. Everything worked out really well, and it was thanks to the terrifying power of guns.

"Well, so long as he enjoys it, I suppose I'll join the fun." Camlos snaps his head over to the two women, greatly amusing Lisa, whose tone is very unclear on whether she's joking or not.

"I don't think Asari are as bullet proof, but maybe a smaller caliber?" Rebecca looked Lisa up and down. Gently poking the neck, "Your arteries are—"

"Rebecca, please." Lisyris says, gently grabbing the hand at the wrist, smiling. "I'll be doing the shooting, don't worry." She sounds so smokey and the smile is threateningly wide.

"Ah, yeah, that's a bit much for me to be honest." Rebecca said with a nod, "I've got a really low pain tolerance actually."

"Really? Can I test that?" Lisa murmurs as she touches a bruise on her torso, "High impact soft-shell round, and you are just talking to me." She teases amused.

Rebecca yelped at the touch. "It didn't hurt until you poked it." She mumbled, but the pain subsided — well, no — she mostly just stepped away from sensation.

"Anyways, if you did shoot me, you're aware we'd be melded, yes?" The Asari moves to the kitchen starting two pots of food.

"I don't know what that means." Rebecca said to her, "Is that the sharing orgasm thing?"

"Its the sharing every sensation thing. I'm surprised you didn't notice my shoulder pain." She says, cutting up the tougher Dextro ingredients first, laying them out to be broiled.

Rebecca looked at her with brows furrowed, "Oh... No I just walk away from that. Like... Inside. Pain I mean." Making the Asari chuckle, shaking her head with a beautific smile, lighting up the room after a week apart from her.

"I missed you, Rebecca. You're adorable." She compliments with a short glance behind her while she's cutting the vegetable matter into very thin chunks so they melt into the broth completely and don't bother Camlos. "I'm happy you both moved in." Lisa looks back to the pot, the coat of her doctors uniform thrown aside, leaving her in a sleeveless vest, very tight to her, and pants that conform to every generous curve.

"Me too." Rebecca said, but then she sighed, "It's been a half day, and six of my fights have dropped out. No-one seems to want to hire me. I'm going to get stir crazy I know it."

"Hmm, maybe Vro can find you something, though it'll likely be with a Krogan band." Lisa answers, pointing a finger to the Levo ingredients for Rebecca to help.

Rebecca smiled at that nodding, "Oh sure, I'll ask him and invite him over." She picked up her omni starting to type, "Oh, wait do I... Do I live here now or am I a guest?"

"You live here lover." The Asari bumps her hip into Rebecca again, smirking at her nerves.

Direct Message with: Quadzilla Rebecca You want some food? I'm at the condo. Quadzilla Better be meat, if Lisyris feeds me plants again, I'll make her regret it. Rebecca Yeah there's definitely meat in the soup. I think there also like... Varrien, and some Bashelry? Quadzilla That's vegetables you idiot. Rebecca Oh the levo meat is chicken, and the dextro meat is Varren. Quadzilla Cool, eating your Levo food. And the Dextro. I'll eat both being a superior being. Rebecca Rad

"We're probably going to need to cook more food." Rebecca said after getting off her omni. "He seemed hungry. I am also unclear if he understood the concept of vegetable stock." She pulls a knife out of the chef's block and starts to quickly process the vegetables of the meal.

Lisa smiles at the words, "He does, he's just obstinant." The soup is swirled around as the second Levo pot is set, swirling as well, "A very, very obstinant man."

"He's nice. Like a drill sergeant." Rebecca said with a beaming warmth.

"By Krogan standards, he's a gentleman, yes." The Asari agrees, finding the warmth worthy of a kiss on the cheek, or, well, underside of the jaw.

"I dunno, it seems like Krogans have it figured out. You blast your way through life and you don't fuck around with like... Being overly polite or bullshitting." Rebecca shrugged, she had started to meet more, especially in the arena. Many had begun doing what she could only describe as 'posturing,' though she found it easy to manage.

"I like the politeness, lets me not run daily to keep in shape." Lisa chuckles again, looking at the stew one last time before capping it, and then capping the Levo one before she turns fully to Rebecca, giving her the attention she wants.

There was a beep on Rebecca's omni-tool, and she says, "Oh, damn, I lost track of time in the firefight. I still need to do my PT, I had to push it back."

The Asari nods, "Go and get caught up, then shower, and then we will be waiting for you." She's still smiling, a gentle tug at the edges of her lips and a twinkle in her eyes.

It took a lot less time for her arms, core, and legs to give out. She had already done squats for four hours with the Krogan, and sprinted through what had to have been through a few miles of a cargo ship. Only about ten minutes was needed to break it down completely.

---

Showers had always been something holy and sacred to Rebecca. They were a rare thing, that you could receive in full when you did great things. Hot high pressure water was a sign that she could relax, soap a reminder that blood shed, at least for now, was over. The patter of water against hard surfaces shut out the noise of the outside world. It was wholesome, private, and had an immediate effect on her psyche allowing her to return to a baseline of normalcy.

When it was interrupted by loud voices, she considered whether she'd get away with using a grenade in the living room. The consideration of the act is interrupted by Vro laughing, Camlos trilling and Lisa slightly raising her voice as something cracks.

"That was Thessian granite you bas-" She stops herself from letting off an insult as the cracking of stone echoes through the condo, bassy Krogan joy and high pitched Turian amusement backing it as an Asari growls.

They're having fun. This is what... This is supposed to sound like. Rebeccca still gritted her teeth as her very important time was being interrupted, you shot a loved one today. Probably a good time to behave. Be strong.

Rebecca cracked her neck, and took a deep breath. She was going to try some very simple makeup today. Not much. Just... Lipstick. Mascara. Those are hard to fuck-up as she understood. It was like whittling surely, just on her face. She could imagine the brush like a knife maybe. A knife she was sticking in her eye.

She groaned after a few minutes, somehow having gotten everything everywhere. Lipstick didn't seem to remain just on her lips, but on her fucking teeth, and then when smudged off, on her hands. The mascara brush left little flakes as she touched it to her face and she was going to fucking scream. This should be easy. It's not fucking hard. Just do it.

Eventually, she gave up on the mascara, washed her face off entirely. She Instead chose to apply a pale almost nude shade of lipstick on, and left it at that. I could... Look it up later. I guess you can't just intuit that. The fact that "Make up was just a thing women did," meant they taught it to themselves drove her up the fucking wall. The men in the corps were fucking morons. It's not that easy.

She dressed casual, wearing a recreation of her first night there, black cargo pants, combat boots, and a tanktop with the anarchy symbol, but it held onto her frame better. Rebecca was better fed, stronger, and somehow even more toned in physique. The clothes weren't baggy as much, they seemed to settle on her body the way they were designed too, instead of a haphazard set of rags caught on a flagpost.

The living room was occupied with Vro having been sat down by a blue-black force of dark energy while Lisa is angrily plating stew and sides, putting them on a table with just enough force to rattle the entire thing but not crack the ceramic. One by one the dinner assembles as the Krogan is pinned to the chair and unable to move, muscular strength seeming insufficient against a full body grip.

Camlos is far more peacefully sat on the side where the Dextro food is being set, just waiting for the word to start, though his eyes are drawn over to Rebecca with an appreciative trill, even after the events of a few hours ago.

She waved with a small smile, taking a deep breath. "Isn't granite just a rock?" Rebecca asked confused, looking at the crack. "They make entire planets out of rocks." Making Lisa hiss in response.

"Thessian granite! Thousands of credits!" She answers back, a wave of biotic force pulling Rebecca to a chair and sitting Rebecca down with just enough force to be notable.

Rebecca didn't resist, but felt a new urge come over her, "Did you get scammed? Why did you pay thousands of credits for long rocks?" She felt the force fluctuate slightly around her as she prodded Lisa.

The Asari gestures wildly to the condo's look, "Because its pretty and unique! Why do people buy hardwood floors."

"I don't know, everywhere I lived in had uh... Vinyl, and some sort of weird wood with a granite texture painted on it. Mdf I think, definitely wasn't very sturdy." Rebecca offered, not really seeing the difference, "But it's an entire galaxy. There has to be colors other than black or grey that are, like, pretty and cheap."

"Rebecca, lover, love." The Asari starts to almost sing as she puts the last plate down and the dark energy intensifies, pressing down. "It is important to me to have my Thessian Granite, okay? It is very important." Menace is barely hidden between the words, exposed with every touch of affection in her voice.

"I understand that it's important, even if I don't get why." Rebecca said with a nod, Lisa was definitely mad that was clear. She could leave it alone, at least for now. "I've actually always wondered, now that I've been in a half dozen places. Are people just like allergic to colors? I looked it up, and it's cheap to anodize steel. Why is everything chrome, black, or grey? Earth was like that too."

"It is the fashion, a few centuries ago it was mostly blue and orange." Lisa is calming down rapidly before Vro sets her off again.

"Yeah, sure. She's just saying that so she can justify her orange phase." Vro grumble-chuckles, fighting through the biotic force to make Lisa twitch at the mention, "You know the one where you painted your car orange, and your clothes. And started wearing orange facepai-URK." The dark energy and gravity makes the chair around him start to flex into his skin with force.

Rebecca bit her finger to stop from laughing, and then started to take a few bites. She couldn't help but poke and prod. "What did you do with all the orange stuff when you were tired of it?"

"Nothing, there was no orange stuff." Lisyris covers for herself, banishing the thought as she puts a spoon of stew in her mouth.

"Was it peach then?" Rebecca asked with a tilt of the head, "I remember I used to basically lift nail salons of every paint I could find. It would drive my CO Nuts because I'd paint the tip of my rifle bright peach. Like... Not dayglow orange, but kind of like a pill bottle but creamier."

Still under intense pressure, Vro laughs, making Lisa somehow more aggravated as she angrily eats soup, somehow. Camlos wisely keeps his mouth shut as Lisyris starts to hum a mnemonic of calm and peaceful thoughts to herself.

"I had to do push ups pretty much constantly, and they demanded I change it, so I showed up with it in magenta. They let me switch back to peach when I started painting it a different color every day. The nail polish started to get really thick on the barrel." Rebecca wondered why this irritated Lisa so much, and why she was bothered about obviously being lied too.

"Would you like to continue this conversation in private after dinner, my lover, she who dwells in my heart?" Lisa smiles painfully wide.

Ice runs through Rebecca's veins as she locks eyes, realizing that yes this woman is a trained combatant with thousands of years of experiences. And that yes she was clearly rubbing against boundaries. "No, we don't have to continue this conversation." Rebecca said delicately, retreating from the firing line with full force.

Except, now it picked at her. She was suddenly grateful for the squats as she remembered how to treat a CO properly. Rebecca had been given a lot of leeway, but everyone had a limit. It really did bother her however. It could be left alone.

She just had to talk about something that wasn't orange. Which should be simple she was just stating that nothing was orange so almost nothing really was offtopic. Just orange, and probably like, color choice. Home decorating might be out, which was lame because the condo somehow looked even more sterile than the one bedroom place Camlos had. At least Camlos seemed to understand the importance of bric-a-brac.

"I don't know how to do makeup I just learned," Rebecca said conversationally, "Poked myself in the eye with the mascara brush. I'm surprised there's not a robot or something that does that for you." Though it hit her, there was far more stubborn target she could pick at, "Hey Vro, have you ever single handedly blown up two spaceships? In space, from the inside?"

"Like, alone? It wasn't really a blow up, I shot at the Eezo core and then bolted as the internal gravity started getting fun. Saw someone have his bones gain gravity." Vro grins past the biotic energy, still not really fighting it, "But when I was blowing up ships, I did it from the comfort of a boarding platoon."

Rebecca smiled back, "Well, Camlos and I boarded, were immediately betrayed, fought our way to the bridge, overloaded the engines, or... Something, it was techy I didn't get it besides the explosion and shuttled out." She nodded, "The explosion sent the shuttle in circles, and even with the seatbelt I was rocketed around the cabin like a pinball in a pinball machine." It was clear she thought this was better and that she had won, something.

"And then she shot me in the legs." Camlos adds, chuckling at torpedoing a topic in vengeance for the previous few hours.

Rebecca pursed her lips, "That's fair, I won't shoot you again." The threat a very pointed jab at the... Different... Mating ritual they had just performed hours ago.

"Sure you won't. And the clouds'll turn purple tomorrow." Camlos obviously doesn't believe a word that just came out of Rebecca's mouth, a relaxed set of mandibles letting him both smile and swallow chunks of food.

Dinners like this had become a staple in their home. Camlos had settled in quickly and adjusted, Vro regularly was invited over to needle at Lisa, and Rebecca seemed to regularly stumble in new and exciting ways to be frustrating. It was an excellent capstone to her first attempt at mercenary work. It was pleasant, she realized she could probably do this forever. Even more important, was that she wanted too.

 

[Princess Scribe]

It had been a few months, and a few topics had slipped through Rebecca's mind as she started something more mundane and routine, but interesting. The clinic was doing well, better than well, fantastic. Lisa was apparently terrible at filing reports and keeping information sorted, while Rebecca was able hack together shoddy systems in minutes, while reinforcing their logistical needs in hours.

There was a cunning there, she would many times have to request her own supplies, or figure out logistics to get things to her safely and quietly. That meant large spreadsheets where she skimmed a crate for HUMINT that she knew wouldn't be missed. It also meant constantly counting bullets, as she rarely would get resupplies when in the desert or jungles guarding heroin.

She really truly was not going to bring the orange thing up again, she hadn't thought about it after that, and Lisa never brought it up. Camlos had been out staking out something for his investigator job. Rebecca never really paid attention to his work. While his work was dangerous, Rebecca was never worried, especially as she watched the dot on her omni. During a scene of play, she had slipped a small microscopic injectable tracker under his skin, healing it inside with medigel. He never seemed to scratch it, and the piece was smaller than a grain of rice, so he probably didn't notice.

Rebecca was leaning on Lisa in the group chat, and she had hit an errant thought.

Group Message With: Family From Funkatron Rebecca Oh, can we maybe paint the bathroom? Like, something pink? I've never had a ton of pink things. I also read about accent walls. I don't get it, but it sounds cool. [image_search_accentwalls_.jpg 24 mb] Quadzilla [lisyris_pain.jpg] [lisyris_pain2.jpg] [lisyris_pain3.jpg] [lisyris_pain4.jpg] [lisyris_pain5.jpg] [lisyris_pain6.jpg] [lisyris_pain7.jpg] [lisyris_pain8.jpg] [lisyris_pain9.jpg] Quadzilla hit attachment limit [lisyris_pain10.jpg] [lisyris_pain11.jpg] [lisyris_pain12.jpg] [lisyris_pain13.jpg]

They were all pictures of Lisyris surrounded by the color orange. In dayglow bright orange clothes, wearing orange makeup, in an orange car, working in orange rooms. The brightness of the pictures assaulted Rebecca's eyes compared to the dark theme she normally kept, her face glowed like it was held under an incandescent sodium bulb.

"Right," She remembered suddenly, "You said you wanted to talk about this in private. Um." Rebecca turned from the screen to look at Lysiris who was rapidly typing in anger, "What the fuck?"

The Asari's neck cranes, if it was audible at all, Rebecca imagines it'd be rather like steel cords bending. She tried to recover, "I mean, like why are you freaking out?" Rebecca panicked suddenly, "Did you get like... Did you stop liking orange because something bad happen? You look cute."

Ping

Group Message With: Family From Funkatron Quadzilla [lisyris_pain24.jpg] [lisyris_pain25.jpg] [lisyris_pain26.jpg] [lisyris_pain27.jpg]

"I'll kill him. I'll rip him apart, spread his gore amongst the stars!" Lisa starts hissing, "He'll beg me for mercy." The hiss turns to a gritty growl of anger as dark energy takes chunks out of the walls.

"I don't think he begs," Rebecca said, but couldn't help but be a smidge concerned. "Is this like... Trauma?"

Lisa turns to face Rebecca again with a mildly, being generous, maddened look in her eyes, "Would you like to beg?" She's asking, barely, or warning, maybe both.

Think, carefully, would Vro tease about hardcore trauma? No, he's callous not stupid. Rebecca looked at the reaction trying to piece it together, She prides herself on being unflappable? They're ancient. So... This is just what teasing looks like when you're that old.

"Would I have to wear orange?" Rebecca asked, watching the woman carefully. Seeing her twitch like something just stabbed her.

"Were you put up to this? Or is this just ... the natural course of things?" Lisa says to herself, though loud enough to be easily heard as the quiet room hides very little in the background.

She was going to reach out and put her arm on Lisa's shoulder to reassure her, but a second, malignant thought formed. Poke the bear. Poke it. POKE THE BEAR. "I mean... I'm not opposed to it. I could probably wear something like this." She sent over [lysiris_pain17.jpg], which was a picture of Lysiris in revealing lingerie from some sort of advert, clipped from a magazine.

"Would you like to tie yourself down?" Lisyris idly says, crossing her legs and drawing the clothes she's wearing, a loose and airy dress in purple-pink, tight to her, fingers tapping a rhythm on her thigh as she does. "Or do you need help?" The door has a peculiar blue-black force emanating from it, making escape...unlikely.

"Alright, so to be clear is it too late to stop digging?" Rebecca asked, slowly standing up. Her eyes darting around the room carefully. Lisa nods slowly, painfully slowly.

She stands up, deftly gliding towards Rebecca step by invisible step, dress hiding the motion of her legs. "Mhmm, you've hit bedrock. Then planted charges."

"Well, we can't leave undetonated charges. That's a safety hazard." Rebecca said slowly, "What would OSHA think?" Her lip twitched, looking at the woman carefully. "At least we've got the safety vests somewhere."

"Don't worry. You'll be secured." The voice that comes out is oddly high-pitched, tinged with menace as her eyes go black, biotic force beginning to slowly, precisely, pull Rebecca towards her, shoes skidding on the tiled floor in a slow and inexorable advance.

Group Message With: Family From Funkatron Rebecca If I die tonight, I want marigolds on my gave. [Orange_Marigolds.jpg Attached]

The pull results in an ever so gentle touch that pushes the omnitool aside whilst the other hand tilts Rebecca's face down to look at Lisa, who's expression is a loving, pleasant and kind smile with a touch of silk and velvet to her fingertips even as electric arcs start.

"Oh, good I thought you were mad." Rebecca says, quickly trying to peck her on the forehead.

"Oh, I am." The peck lands, and then she flattens Rebecca down to the ground, or more accurately, floating an inch above it. Biotic practice clearly working to her advantage now. Lisyris stands tall over her, still looking pleasingly attracted to Rebecca as she stares. "I just express anger healthily. What can't I do?" She considers out loud.

"Oh uh... Is this like what Camlos does? Don't shoot me. Or stab. Like, probably broader things than like tiny razor things." Rebecca said confidently.

"I'm not one for pain-play usually. Though on occasion someone acts out." Lisyris threatens idly as she starts to walk around the pinned woman, heels clicking on hardwood floors audibly as she does.

"You have to know," Rebecca isn't sure if she's warning Lisa, or egging her on, "The worse this is, the more I am going to press the big orange button."

Lisa smiles with amusement, "I'll find your limits eventually, lover."

"I mean. We'll see?" No, she was definitely egging her on she realized.

She's walked fully around Rebecca and arrived at a cupboard, pulling a bottle of something out and shaking free two glowing blue pills. They settle on her tongue and are swallowed dry.

"Oh, if you like... Please don't drug me without warning, I'm actually a... That'd not be fun, it'd be bad scary. Like when I shot Camlos." Rebecca said suddenly, seeing the drugs come out, knowing she was fully restrained. She started to test the limits of the biotic pressure. It was quite firm.

"Mhmm, I won't. That was for me." The Asari turned her head over as the effect is near-instant, rapid onset chemical packets directed by bio-degradable micromachines moving directly to her brain and giving her a raw burst of frenetic energy.

"Oh, wait are you at that age where you need help getting it up?" Rebecca said quickly, "I didn't think they made something like that for women. Future is ra—" There was a slight pressure around her neck that choked the words out.

"So, anything against crops? No? Wonderful." Lisa does watch for a gesture of any kind, the pressure on Rebecca's throat dying out as the aforementioned crop, a synthetic one in blue and soft green is extracted from a trunk, looking gentle, as gentle as a crop can anyways. "Have you ever had this done? The word to stop all of this is ..." She thinks, letting Rebecca say something finally.

"I know what you think I'm going to say." Rebecca gasped, "but instead, lets go Red, Yellow for too close to red for comfort. Er... Is there anything I can't do back?"

"I imagine you'll have a hard time doing much, but if you shoot me, I'm returning the favour lover." She's leaning down close by, wearing expensive clothes and looking amused.

Rebecca shook her head, "Go can be orange then." and then she spat at Lisa, a crass gesture aiming for her face, but grimacing when it hits her chest.

"Oh. I see." Lisa murmurs as her hands start to pull at clothing, calmly even as the calm starts to fall apart, getting the shirt off Rebecca first before unbuttoning and pulling off cargo pants that have a multitude of pockets even by their standards. "You're very pretty Rebecca." She says as a hand strokes up the aforementioned woman's sternum, coming to rest on her throat in a loose grip.

Rebecca says, "I didn't think that'd hit your clothes. Sorry." She coughed a little concerned, "It was something Camlos was trying, I uh..." The hand on her throat made her nervous, but she laughed a little into the grip. "Are you going to get mad about purple in a few decades?"

"You are a brat." Lisa realizes as she moves, throwing a leg over Rebecca and sitting on her thighs. Leaning forwards to be almost laying over her, placing the crop down to put another hand on her, this time on her shoulder to brace. "Am I going to get an orange, Rebecca?" She places the impetus on her.

Rebecca sighed, and nodded slowly, "Daily delivery to the clinic. Yeah." Making Lisa twitch again, the motion turning into a sudden, intense pressure against Rebecca's throat that cuts off air and threatens blood flow alike. Lisyris looks incensed, but the anger fades fast, replaced with a wide-eyed interest and then, maybe a half-dozen seconds after that, she leans down and presses her lips against Rebecca, certainly not releasing her throat throughout, pressing body against body while she tightly holds her lover.

She's a doctor. She's pissed, but she probably is aware of how much air you need. Rebecca couldn't help herself however. Fight or flight was kicking in, and she rarely chose to run. The kiss continued, and she let the woman become comfortable in it. Mentally ticking off seconds, waiting for her to relax her anger, just a tad. When Lisa seemed to calm she gave Lisa a sharp nip on the lip, not overly hard, but sudden.

Lisa separates a little, barely enough to let her look into Rebecca's eyes, and starts counting aloud. "Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five." There's a burning in Rebecca's chest at the pace of her count, slow and steady, each number being maybe two seconds to say. "Four, three, two." Mercifully, Lisa speeds up, lingering on two for a little longer, "One." She releases.

Rebecca refused to breathe at first, holding her breath for just a second longer nodding. Before at least attempting a relaxed inhale. "On earth they have these brands called cuties. It'll at least be adorable." She gasps after that not able to keep the facade up, desperately grabbing air, "Cutie for my cutie."

"Would you like some makeup?" Lisa asks, pulling a mascara brush from another cupboard, having gotten up between the first inhale and the gasp, finding the idea of applying it enticing. "Just this, I'm very good at it, I promise." She flutters her own eyes, expertly lined with likely centuries of experience.

Rebecca's eyes sagged a little, "Oh... Because... I'm bad at makeup. Ha." Her voice sounded a little flat. It was odd, not the normal overwhelming anger that took over, just a kind of quiet admission. "Lets... yellow. No red. I didn't like that at all."

Moving from play to comfort easily, Lisyris kneels down to Rebecca's side. "That's okay lover. Do you want to practice instead?" The brush is placed on the ground as Lisa releases all biotic grip.

"Sorry." Rebecca whispered, she felt like a failure, like she set up something and didn't follow through. That she was incapable of meeting expectations. Of course, it wasn't that she felt like a failure. She had failed. Immediately. Weak.

"Focus on the now. Love, would you like to learn. You didn't start off good at things." Lisa tries to refocus and reframe Rebecca's attention, trying to see if the problem can be solved directly.

"No." She whispered quietly, "Not right now. I've been trying to be better, but now instead of angry, I got sad. That's not fair." Rebecca curled up, naked against the back of the couch in their living room. She was hissing, she didn't like being vulnerable.

The Asari slides from her knees to her side, laying besides Rebecca on the floor. Putting velvet skin and a caring hum against her, "You are amazing Rebecca. You've done so much for the people you love." She murmurs into the human woman's ear, playing with the ringlets of her hair in a familiar game that slowly trails up to a massage at her scalp, "Its alright being sad sometimes, it lets you relax a little." Lisa encircles Rebecca's waist with her free arm.

"I liked being mad a lot better." Rebecca whispered, "This hurts."

"It hurts less if you cry." Lisa offers, resting her head on the other woman.

The was a split second where she considered hitting Lisa, as a flare of pure unadulterated rage flooded in. Though she wrestled with the feeling. She had spent a lot of time now with Vro meditating. This was one of those times she needed discipline. Rebecca locked up entirely, and she could hear her teeth whistle and strain as her jaw clenched tight enough to compress air between the teeth and gums. Fucking, discipline.

Lisyris presses a gentle kiss to her shoulder and waits, letting the emotions flare, letting the feelings build and roil as she stays there. "Can I take you to bed at least?" She asks quietly, "We can stay there warm."

"Need a sec." Rebecca bit out quietly, under her breath. She was still holding her breath she realised. She needed oxygen to calm. Oxygen was important for getting calm, remaining calm. It'd pass, anger passes it's transient. It's not a forever thing. She had to remember it wasn't a forever thing.

The breaths help, after the first one whistled through clenched teeth, its coolness seemed to chill the rage by degrees, letting the next one work as well, slowly pulling Rebecca back from the brink of an explosion and to merely a bonfire that'll die down, given time and distraction.

Lisa had talked to her a lot about what to do in these situations as well, it didn't need to just be breathing. She was allowed, to talk back, use her words. Calmly. Which she had just reached. Well, almost calm. It should be easy. Deep breath in, deep breath out, normal breath, "What went wrong there... Is that I'm," she wiggled her jaw left and right momentarily, letting the tendons stretch and release pressure, "Embarrassed, I can't do any of the things women do to be pretty. I don't know how." She hissed in anger after that.

"Instruction is crucial, lover." Lisa murmurs back, "You'll be incredible at this too, I've no doubt. Its repetition, memorization and precision, skills you've mastered long ago. Merely a matter of learning how to apply them." Its wordy as per usual, but that's just how Asari speak, using as much detail as possible.

God she talks a lot. Rebecca realized, but it gave Rebecca time to think, which was useful, maybe that was why. "Failure. Universally. Resulted in people I talked too dying." She needed to be more clear, or maybe it helped to say it.

Lisa hums again, "You are saying learning always fails? I'm sorry love, I can't quite follow." She rubs at Rebecca's scalp firmly, yet somehow softly, letting stress have a place to boil off there.

"I'm," It was killing her to say this, her mouth actually tasted wrong at the very idea, and over salivated. Like venom was dripping from the roof over her mouth. "Learning never mattered. Before. It was do or die. Now, failure doesn't mean die. It's... Wrong." Discordant thoughts are pushed out trying to convey a core ideal she buried even from herself.

Another hum, "You want to avoid it. So....." The Asari considers, still placing idle kisses at Rebecca's shoulder.

"I started to learn whittling." Rebecca grit out. "By learning to make the starting shape. How to even it. I learned to cook by just... Cutting onions. Not trying anything else until it was good."

"How about, in a little while, we start with lipstick? Do that first." Lisa murmurs against Rebecca's shoulder, feeling the tight and stressed muscle there.

Good, she understood, Rebecca sighed with relief, "Yeah. Yeah, thank you. I'm sorry I... Fucked this up."

"You didn't do anything wrong." Lisa reassures Rebecca, "Besides, I love teaching, and I love you. This'll be great." She smiles broadly just behind the human, purple lips trying not to break into a grin.

She leaned her head against Lisa, "Is it... Hot... when the mascara gets all messed up from tears and sweat and things? Or was that to just embarrass me?" Rebecca asked quietly.

"The first, lover. I....couldn't do the second. Makes my skin crawl." Lisa admits, a little embarrassed herself, "Apologies if you-" Her quiet ponderings are interrupted.

"We can start with that then, you'll know when." Rebecca hugged her tight, squeezing her into a tight embrace feeling comforted in a way that was sharp that seemed to slice between the smallest cracks of her armor with frightening skill. Somehow still managing to keep her afloat by lifting her beneath the surface.

"Perfect." Lisa returns the hug fully, sinking into the touch and feeling of love emanating from Rebecca.

 

[Princess Scribe]

If you're wondering why the thread is getting just like lit up right now, it's because we just finished the major arc of book 3, word like 310k+~ and like. It's gotten to a point where slow rolling it would honestly suck, once I'm finished editing a post, I'm just posting it without a schedule, if only to try and catch up more. Plus, constant posting means constantly on the first page!

 

[Princess Scribe]

Ideas for T-shirt merch.

• Front: "Don't say Leave", Back: Picture of someone with legs shot off. "Told you."
• "People say, 'Don't stick it in crazy'. I say, 'Less competition'"
• "It's a trade-off. I come with baggage, you cum with me."

Click to shrink...

... I do draw ... Could I get away with selling t-shirts for a fan fic.

Because I personally would wear that third T-shirt

 

[Princess Scribe]

The Krogan is currently stomping around a packed store, trying to find a corner of open space to put a new article in. Not caring if it sells particularly, but wanting it to be available anyways. He's ignoring Rebecca, who has been standing in the room, waiting for him to be done to ask something.

As a shelf is cleared, the expensive attachments hitting the ground, she realizes Vro's done, putting the rifle up on it and turning to walk back to his counter with heavy stomps on steel-plate floor.

She's savouring an orange, not a Cutie™, as the brand had long since died, but an orange none-the-less. She peeled it this morning, and left the peel delicately placed with a note saying "Love you <3~" on top. It was her daily treat, along with the one she shared with Lisyris, having to take them from hiding, and making sure they got their before the doctor in the morning at the clinic.

Rebecca looked rather pleased with herself. On her omnitool, she scrolled through a few pics she snapped, all make-up attempts she had done before she showered. Many sent to Lisa and Camlos to much fanfare and adoration. Her life was feeling stable, and calm. A little restless, but it all felt right.

Finally, after Vro gets the Vro equivalent of comfortable, she asked a question that had been on her mind for a while.

"When I shot Camlos, you said 'None of this stands.' What does that mean?" Rebecca knew she didn't have to sugar coat or dance around her question. She didn't need to ease in to a talk about a mistake she made. The last bit of orange went into her mouth, and the gunshop smelled like citrus.

"You being stupid. It doesn't stand. Not gonna keep going." Vro explains with a shrug, "Gonna stop there. Has to cease. The idiot-train is pulling in for permanent storage. The stupid-ship is docking for the last time." The Krogan goes through a few different interpretations of it.

She was a little disappointed she had taken a slightly different interpretation, and was hoping that it meant that she wasn't expected to be weak anymore. Which would imply that she could be strong. Though, that didn't truly matter, she had decided to be strong regardless.

"It means you gotta start acting right. Stop acting like prey. You're not some dumb Varren lashing out at the world 'cause the sun hurts your eyes." Vro continues to insult in his own caring way, "Stop being absolutely psychotically stupid and start being psychotically smart. You even know how to file for a business license? 'Course you don't."

"Yes I do!" Rebecca said immediately, "I help renew Lisa's, and Camlos needs one so I looked up how." She showed the numerous forms, which was odd for a pirate station. Though they did register them with the government, and do interplanetary business. It was an arduous process, but Rebecca learned it.

"Surprising. Good, you're already stopping the stupid weakness." Vro compliments for once. Its treasured gold, seen once a decade by most. He turns a Krogan eye to her, showing off the fact that they can rotate all the way around if needed, like a stag or deer's eyes. "You'll need to make money. Enough of this silly shit, no one I'm mentoring's gonna rot as a clinic aide."

Holy shit he said it. Rebecca grinned ear to ear, she wasn't going to hide being happy. She was happy, she'd show it, fuck anyone who would tell her not to be, "I wanted to talk about that yeah. You mentioned once hitmen make real money, but is there better? I want to work, make it hand over fist, send it home."

"You'll be moving in an out of Omega doing real work. Not enough money ever since T'loak took over. Get that bird's head out of his ass and drag him along. I pulled his military records, longest shot without a scope on current record." He grumbles, "Wasting his time being an investigator when he's the universe's gift to sharpshooting. Idiot." Vro starts to tap at his omnitool slowly, one button after another as the device ill-suited to a Krogan fights him every step of the way with misinputs from the size of his fingers.

"For now, you'll be a contractor for corps and mercs. You don't wanna be on retainer. They get comfy, but they get paid less for it. Contractors get sent first, get paid fifty times as much, and die if they're shit." He explains with an annoyed tone at the omnitool.

Rebecca was almost bouncing, but knew she had to have a little discipline, if only because she'd be a wreck if she let it all out that moment. "I never mentioned this before." Rebecca said, watching the krogan, "You ever consider using a stylus? I bought you one. Lets you control the holo."

"Sure, I'll break it in a month. Be less annoyed till then." He opens his hand to receive the stylus.

She rolled her eyes, putting a titanium hunk in his hand, with an eezo chunk that allowed it to generate a mass effect field. The tip made to manipulate holos. It was clear that Rebecca had done some research, though she wasn't positive about it, the man was over a thousand years old.

The thing starts tapping at the hardlight omnitool, as he continues to speak, "Yeah, so, I've got some friends in some big ones. The ones that get into the real shit, the million credit contracts. Blood Pack might take you if I can swing it." He's now in a contact list, texting people something.

"You know Ganar Wrang?" She asked with an eyebrow raised, "That's insane."

"I knew that fucker when he was two feet tall." Vro grumbles, going to another contact, texting them as well, "Couple other options too, let's see which pans out." He starts to look over the list, waiting for them to respond patiently. Without concern they won't.

"Breakdown while we wait. Blood Pack, good sorts. Krogan and Vorcha, so good fighters and then some filth to soak bullets. Blue Suns, a real fucking military, operating with a PMC license and everything. They got ships and artillery and air support and everything else. But they go into the hottest warzones you've ever seen, front line combat with bombs falling. Might get your toy killed." Vro shrugs as he shows recordings of the Blood Pack boarding ships on both C-SEC and illegal payroll, followed by actual imagery of warfare that looks horrifying and familiar to a veteran.

"Yeah maybe not the blue suns, for some reason I give humans, like most humans, the creeps." Rebecca admitted with a deep sigh, "You can kind of see it in the eyes this weird jittery flicker."

"They're mostly Batarians and Turians. Humans are recent, some of you are good fighters." He rumbles as he flicks to the next group's images. "CAT6, these might be your type. Human's mostly, but they all got kicked out of the Alliance Marine Corps for some shit called a Category 6 dishonourable release? Mostly wetworkers for anyone who can afford 'em."

Rebecca whistled, "Yeah, definitely my type. Entry Level Discharge, within six months of joining you do something bat-shit and get booted. Or you fail a psych-eval."

"Finally, fuckin' Eclipse. Varrenfucks they are." His opinion seems either very low or very high, Rebecca can't tell which, "Lots of cutting edge toys, sapient experimentation and the most expensive health package I've seen on a merc company, 'cause they compete with Blue Sun and don't have the giant ships and guns to do it head to head. I've seen these assholes use optical camo five years 'fore it came out on the market, biotics in every squad, annoying shit like that. They pay good, but they also do stupid shit like.... jump out of a low orbit ship with just a mass effect field to slow down with."

"Oh man! A halo drop sounds so fucking cool," Rebecca admitted grinning, "Aren't a few of those companies having men just like disappear though?"

Vro doesn't seem to have a worry for that, "Yeah its merc work. Don't get killed dumbass."

"They're disappearing on Omega," Rebecca shrugged, "Camlos was looking into it, but sent the money back and stopped for some reason."

"Eclipse, Blue Sun and Aria are having a dick measuring contest right now. World's stupidest one. Two of the people involved aren't even here." The Krogan grumbles, "It'll all blow over once they realize Omega isn't worth that much."

"Yeah, sure." Rebecca leaned back against the wall next to Vro. It really really bugged her that Krogan were on average taller. She would have had small lifts in her boots if it didn't fuck with her ability to move in them, "Everyone who fights for Omega seems stupid obsessed with the prestige of it."

"Good, don't worry, if you're successful, you'll fight for Omega and its prestige too. Having people worship the ground you walk on gets females wet and raring." Vro idly comments, "It's why Asari always wanna rule it." He sends a contact marked Blood Pack, Eclipse and Blue Sun over.

"I'd rather join the syndicate and fight for second place, rather than struggle for first and get decimated by the nutjob at the top." Rebecca looked through it, but she was definitely going to pick the Blood Pack. She'd either be clever meat, or the krogans there would try and fight her. Both seemed like a great idea, she wanted the prestige of something far different.

"Hey, you said that people on Tuchanka make like, warbands and clans and shit around the galaxy right? Something like that, I forgot the name." Rebecca tried to ask casually.

"You think you can lead Krogans?" Vro sounds amused at the idea, "Gotta be stronger than you are now to not be someone's meatshield. Good luck." He chuckles.

He didn't say it was stupid, Rebecca realized, it's not impossible. She had been discussing it with Lisa in depth, well mostly how she was going to go about gene-mods and things. She could cut a lot of corners by giving up muscle for steel.

"Careful though, powerful females attract idiot krogans like flies to shit. Makes 'em swoon." He laughs, imagining the idea of a flirting whelp. "Ah, it'll be hilarious."

"I think you know my choice then, yeah." Rebecca said, though she wanted to make sure, "You do enough meat shield work, is the blood pack smart enough to recognize people who could do better not being a meat shield?"

"Sure, once your first line bites it, they'll promote you to replace 'em. Blood Packs a hierarchy of blood, not some chickenshit bureaucracy. Kill 'em with your hands if you gotta." Vro grumbles at the idea of meritorious promotion. "Nothing's gonna be handed to you even if they let you in."

"Sounds like maybe I can just take someone's place if it's a hierarchy of blood." Rebecca wasn't positive on that, there was still a lot she was figuring out about the various groups and cultures. "Meh, I'll figure it out. Do you have any advice?"

"Don't be weak. Don't be stupid, and especially don't be both at the same time." Vro's life advice is simple and to the point, not mincing words nor bothering to coddle anyone. "You'll slot in beneath someone, they'll show you the ropes 'cause that's the thing you do when some idiot that's not too stupid shows up. You'll kill 'em, or make 'em submit, your choice. Take their spot, then so on and so forth."

"Good advice," Rebecca said as she finished breaking the shop down, which mostly meant turning the shop sign from closed to open. "Alright, I guess I'm going to go paste a vorcha. I'll tell you how it went."

"'Fore you go, so my works not wasted. How much money's the metal you wanted?" Vro starts tapping at his account, revealing a hilarious sum of money in it.

"I'm miles off, but 600k, I've got the first... Fifty so far. Camlos' work pays well, and the apartment is easy pay with three incomes." Rebecca says, "Four, no five. The four of us, and then the arena. Though work is disappearing there rapidly."

"I don't pay rent." The Krogan grumbles, finding his account input and starting to tap in the requested sum slowly.

Rebecca shook her head, "You pay me, that goes to re— Holy— Vro are you loaning me fucking... half a million credits? "

"No." Vro says, "I'm loaning you six hundred thousand, if you pay me back with five hundred thousand, I'll break your spine." He prints off the chit, gesturing with the priceless chunk of carbon.

Rebecca knew that she couldn't say no as she took the piece, she didn't want to say no either. This was a gift, it meant so much more than just the money. That chit was going to be with her forever. "Can I at least pay you back six-oh-six, so that you make a little on your investment."

"No. Pay me back six hundred thousand." There appears to be little room for negotiation with Vro on matters of money.

That was that, as far as Rebecca was concerned. She looked at him, at the chit, back at him. She gave him a friendly slug to the shoulder, probably harder than she would with most, "Thanks. I'll make it count."

 

[Princess Scribe]

The air is heavy with blood, as a corpse of a wriggling Vorcha is crushed beneath the boot of Rebbeca's hard-suit, the undifferentiated cells trying to cling to life as she pushes the heel through a vertebrae with a sickening crunch and feeling of tremoring cracks through her foot.

"Hey, Krat, I hate to do this to you buddy," Rebecca says with a grin, as she fires without looking into the head of the Vorcha, "But I'm really tired of this meat shield shit. We're going to need to scrap it out." Her eyes are wild, she was very much not tired of it. She thrived in the battle, the Blood Pack was perfect for her. Battle was insane, gritty, immediate. There was no worry, just push and fight and win. She had proven herself first.

The bar was deserted, tables and chairs overturned in the patrons' haste to escape after the first assault rifle blasts echoed through the room. At the metal counter, bottles of ryncol glinted under the neon signs, miraculously unharmed. Krat sat alone at one of the few tables still upright, a bottle before him. He stared into the distance, looking bored.

A few Vorcha had seemed ready to try and defend Kratt, but they laid at Rebecca's feet. The remaining yelling, "She's actually trying it, the crazy bitch. Run!" In their high pitched, almost animalistic tones, translator barely able to pick up their garbled nonsense and put it to understandable language.

With a clear bloodlust, and a sharp smile Rebecca said, "Alright Kratt, let's go. Time to do this."

Krat is sitting at a table with a bottle of ryncol in front of him. The green plated Krogan stares forward, ignoring Rebecca for a solid few seconds before sighing deeply. He takes a drink from the bottle, puts it down, waits, takes another drink, puts it down, waits, takes a third drink, puts it down and sighs again.

"'Kay I'm good, lets go." He tiredly hypes himself up, standing up to seven feet of muscle, plate and hard-suit, barrier lighting up.

Rebecca groaned, "Fuck you for ruining this story later." Her own shield was missing, but she waited until he was around the table. Or tried to flip it over.

Krat starts to idly walk around the table, "You're number fifteen this month. Couldn't you wait till the first of next month?" He grumbles.

"Can you be a little more fucking... I dunno... Dramatic." She asked, "I can come back at a better time so that there's no question about it."

"No, I'm fine. Just, ugh, we can get started, I'll get into it as we go." The Krogan stretches, trying to get his blood flowing, hoping this isn't just another massacre.

She knew a way to get him into it, cracking her neck, "Would you like some help?" Rebecca smiled, "You could like, just stand down? This doesn't really seem worth the trouble anymore. I promise I'll take good care of you, you can be a pet lieutenant or something."

"Alright, breaking your arms." Whilst not a blood rage, the fact that a languid walk turns to a rush that sends the table skidding across the room and forces Rebecca to dodge is good enough.

"Whatever Runt, you're funeral." Rebecca rolled past him, and gives him a cybernetically enhanced blow to the back, feeling something satisfying crack. She rolled backwards as he turned around. In a second she was back on her feet. Dancing a little in a stance that seemed like a street version of Krav Maga.

The impact makes the Krogan growl, a bone break nowhere near enough to stop them despite the flash of blood that falls from it and onto the broken synthetic skin on Rebecca's knuckles, staining it a purple-red of krogan blood that smells sweet. The sudden bullrush afterwards is a little harder to handle, grabbing at the human's legs and pushing her down to the ground as the Krogan achieves a dominant ground position, rearing a fist the size of her head back whilst metal arms move to guard, taking the bone on steel impact with a shock up to her still biological shoulders.

Moving to press her enhanced limbs to the Krogans hips, Rebecca pushes and bucks, forcing him back and off her with a whine of servos as a fist impacts her jaw in recompense, inhuman strength turning the whole world to something oddly bright and shiny while her body catches up with what just happened.

Recovery isn't swift, but action is, rolling back to her feet in an almost animalistic grit as she leaps towards the stumbling Krogan, using her arms to push past his guard. He's stronger, but she's smaller and more mobile.

The Krogan raises his arms to try and wrestle her off, grabbing at Rebecca and making the hard-suit groan whilst she climbs further. She sprints up the seven foot tall man, using his legs as steps to arrive at the crown of his head, raising an elbow up in a crushing arc. The mechanical elbow lands with a clang as a crack spreads through his plates and a bloody spill from kinetic interchange pushes through bruised and ruined flesh. The Krogan roars in challenge, pushing Rebecca off him as one eye fills with blood, crushed to uselessness by bone being pulverized downwards.

"Damnit! You have any idea how long that'll take to heal!" Krat roars as Rebecca lands smoothly, preparing for a charge.

Rebecca could only giggle with excitement, "No, but yay. You're taking this seriously." She leaned down low, clearly fucking insane. Bloodlust and mania intermingling into rapid, breathless giggles. The Krogan approaches at a pace, the blood rage evident in his actions. The first tackle is avoided, but with a noise of groaning steel, Krat suddenly shifts axis and turns on a point, stopping his momentum and channeling it into a bone shaking strike with a closed bone-knuckled fist that catches Rebecca.

The impact is hard, a spray of blood leaves her mouth as a fist smashes into her face, the whole world turns bright again while another strike slams into her body, breaking something. Adrenaline brings her back to the world as the coppery taste of blood fills her mouth, red flowing down and intermingling with purple, sweet and sour coming together in the air as they comingle.

"You look half-dead, Rebecca," The Krogan rumbles, only seeing out of one eye and swaying like a drunk sailor with each step, brain trying to catch up with having shards of bone ripping through it in bloody internal streaks that must feel like agony.

"Weird, I feel fine." Rebecca lied, "I don't want to kill you Kratt, it's so fucking hard."

"Lucky you, you won't." The Krogan grins through broken teeth, having had his jaw forced downwards by the falling elbow.

She can't stop laughing as she rushes forward, "Just say red when you want me to stop." Rebecca wanted the initiative, needed it as she went to slide, this time though, she stopped, juked backwards as he went to grab her very ready for this repeated trick, and receiving a violent blow to the plate again.

The next few seconds are a vicious trade, the Krogan taking it seriously, fighting aggressively but with his guard up. Pushing into strikes to deny them torque and speed while slamming fists into the hard-suit, bruising the body beneath, making ribs creak and blood well up underneath it as medigel dispensers jab the life-saving substance deeply.

The medigel and raw adrenaline makes the pain an afterthought in the background of the fight, keeping to a close, face to face distance, practically in a violent embrace of fists and blood. It turns rabid, primal and violent as defenses are left to the wayside while hands strike. A roaring blow lands square on Rebecca's cheekbone, fracturing the bone to pieces as her eye quickly swells shut from the impact whilst her fist slams home square on the right side of his chest, breaking a rib and making him stumble back as an irregular beat in one heart makes every part of him sick and dizzy, a trickle of vomit leaving his mouth as they both separate, bleeding from every impact point.

The steady pitter-patter of life hitting the ground as they breathe, figuring out how to reapproach the fight, how to win on both sides, minds racing in the brutal melee while injuries threaten and make them grit their teeth. Rebecca recovers first as Krat feels his heart ripple against one another, threatening to kill him.

"God, god this is what I wanted Krat, fuck. God I'm so fucking happy you're so good at this." Rebecca said panting, "But if I hit you you're dead, come on. Don't make me do that, your fucking hearts are out of sync man." She still walked forwards knowing she'd have too, as she rears back a blow, making it clear she was not letting the chance slide.

The synthetic skin under the hard-suit gauntlet had fallen off completely from the knuckles after the constant impacts, little glimmers of blue-red cyberware flittering through edges of the suit as Krat watches before, with a bloody grit to his teeth, spitting out, "Red."

Rebecca sighed, and grabbed the medkit off the wall sliding next to him. Taking out a hypo, and jamming the first into his chest, the second into her own. Wheezing loudly as the fluids took hold. Fuck, fuck, fuck. A cough escapes Krat as three of his lungs are cleared of the flood of blood inside them.

"You're stupid crazy." He grimaces past the pain, reaching to his Ryncol, downing a gulp of it.

Rebecca nodded gasping, "Please for the love of god don't tell Vro I didn't use a gun."

"I thought you'd ran out of bullets! You had a gun!? YOU DIDN'T USE A GUN!?" The Krogan sounds incensed at the idea.

She looked at him, and picked up the gun showing the 90% counter.

There's a stare from the bleeding alien, still smelling overly sweet, and then he drinks another gulp of Ryncol.

"You didn't have a gun! That seemed unfair!" Rebecca said quickly.

The Ryncol bottle empties down his throat, all of the highly dangerous, unbelievably powerful liquor helping calm him from the experience, and when it ends, he throws it at the far side of the room, letting the reinforced metal crack against the wall, "You tell anyone, I'll kill you and your clan." Krat growls, slumping down against a table with a mix of shame and pain.

"Noooo," Rebecca moaned, "Fuck. Can I just come back next week with the gun?"

"And make me give up twice!?" Krat shouts at Rebecca with a spray of bloody saliva, incensed by the idea.

"I need a cool story!" Rebecca nearly yells, "I brag about everything!"

"Make some shit up! Say you ran out of ammo! Empty your gun around the room!" He throws a can of something at Rebecca, seeing it bounce off kinetic barriers. "You didn't just decide to fist fight me! You did not!"

"What? Of course I did! How else would like... Yes! I needed to win by uh." Rebecca stopped, touching her chin, "You know, I might have thought Krogan shit was far more like, honor stuff then it was. I wanted to prove I was stronger."

Though as she speaks, she's unloading the assault rifle around the office until it's almost empty. She picks up the pistol the vorcha had, firing it around the room behind her, she kicks over a few tables, then fires into her barrier until it pops, landing a final shot into it, permanently damaging a control module.

"I need to let a few rounds loose in you as well." Rebecca said pointing the assault rifle, and emptying the final percentage around the Krogan's body avoiding the vital wounds.

"Aghs-fuck-bit-agah!" Krat complains as bullets riddle him, punching down his kinetic barrier and perforating his hard-suit and flesh.

"Okay, so we fought. I killed your guard, got some shots off, my gun emptied. I rushed in, you fired multiple times through my barrier permanently damaging it. THEN the fight happened." Rebecca said, quickly building together a lie that saved the Krogan's... Whatever the fuck, and allowed Rebecca to still have her moment.

Kratt groans, "Fuck you." As he writhes with the pain of four dozen gunshot wounds now mixing in with everything else that's perforated and pulverized him. Breathing calms and then he has to grit his teeth again, "Fuck, now I have to listen to you, shoulda let you punch my brains out."

"I'm probably a good leader." Rebecca said cracking her neck, "I care about other people's safety a lot. It's only really the stupid honor shit that I'm still figuring out." Her lip twitches a bit. Wondering if she should let Krat in on how crazy she was. "I want to make a Human-Krogan Clan, you in?"

"You're nuts. Human's and Krogan's don't......like....." He makes a vague gesture of coupling.

She giggles, "You all haven't met the crazy ones yet." She saw Krat as if he was a particularly juicy steak.

There's a look of confusion at that, absolute, utter confusion as he mutters, "School said genetics don't mix like that." To himself.

"Oh, I thought like, you meant they don't like fucking humans." Rebecca stopped touching her chin, "You know, I don't actually know what I'm talking about. I just kind of only found one species that gets me."

 

[Princess Scribe]

"What? No, I'm fine with anything that has tits." Krat says with some confusion, "Did, was this because you were horny?"

"A little? A lot? That started the train moving, yeah." Rebecca said shrugging.

"Why didn't you just fucking ask!?" Krat is spiraling into a deep confusion.

She looked at him with an incredibly confused look, "I only fuck strong people? I didn't know until we fought if I'd even want too. Every man I've fucked, I've shot, or tried to remove their legs. It's a personal rule."

The Krogan, surprisingly, seems to calm down at that, "Okay, you're just...a Krogan they stuffed pink skin on. That makes more sense. You're not sick in the head, just born in the wrong body. Makes sense." Krat tries to stand up, then falls over again, "You shot my knees! Why!" The clunk of eight hundred pounds of alien hitting the ground sounds like a low speed car crash.

"Uh... I like the taste of Krogan, your knees had to be out for the next part or else I'd just be wrestling you the whole time." Rebecca said very confused, "Are you interested?"

"Fine, I won't inject the medigel, damned stupid human." The agreement is acerbic, probably because of the fourty grains of sand in his body, but Krat reaches towards a release on his hard-suit, hissing pneumatics popping off plates to reveal the much softer underlayer of polymer in black. "Five cred say I end up on top anyways."

Rebecca walked over and picked the pistol off the ground, "Yeah, that's why I left bullets in the pistol." She said with a very solemn nod.

"Huh, you're cute." The Krogan admits with a noise of surprise, finding the threat enticing and fun rather than threatening or fear inducing.

"Ok, but to be clear." Rebecca shot him in the leg once, "I will shoot you." The growl of pain that follows is more incensed than agonized.

"You're lucky I'm not older. I'd have stood up already." The injuries at his legs are visibly healing with time, though it'll be minutes before they do.

Rebecca nodded, "Yeah, I'll need to be fast." She said quickly undressing. She was back at the krogan, humming as she thought about how to remove the pants. "Take them off, uh please. If you're consenting I mean. I could also cut them off." Then taking a knife out of a pocket on the back of her armor.

"You shot them, what, you want me to wriggle my bullet-knees?" He's so calm and entertained by this, finding the whole situation exciting.

CTRL+F Porn to skip cutscene

---

Knowing what she wanted, Rebecca quickly removed the Krogan's pants with the blade, taking care to make sure that she didn't cut him, but kept eyes on his knees. Wondering if she'd need to cut him with the blade to get more time. She was surprised, for some reason, that the thing that was repeated, constantly, was actually true.

Staring at essentially, two fleshy prongs. "That's... That's gonna rule I think." She muttered. Rebecca looked at the Krogan for a second, then quickly stabbed the knee again for more time. The pained groan that left him was barely noticeable, and she let the bloody blade drip over, essentially, what she considered her prize.

"I'm really glad the knife latch held," Rebecca said, as she put the knife in the back sheathe again. "I've always been a little worried it'd snap my spine when I'm tackled." The Krogan chuckles at the words, shaking his head.

"Why'd I do that, you're my best worker." He laughs at the sight of the drips on his skin, before staring with hunting, predator's eyes back at Rebecca. "WAIT, you had a fucking knife!?" He growls suddenly, tensing up and trying to roar at her.

"Yeah, fucking owned nerd." Rebecca said, as she licked the blood off the top rod. Teasing it with glee. They tasted different, as if one were maybe say, brown sugar, and the other was pure cane. She moved quickly before stopping as he continued to roar and move. "I like the taste of blood, I will bite one off and take it home with me. Behave."

"Who are you threatening? The regenerator?" Kratt growls back, utterly fearless at the threat of physical violence. Though secondary signs of arousal are building in fluid leaving his members and a flush of blood settling under his plates, blooming in dark green.

Rebecca laughed, "Fuck it, I'll kill you with everything at my disposal after." She wiggles the gun, as she takes her pants off. Still prepared, having long planned this, she pulled out lubricant and reached down with it, placing it both on herself and him. "Is it only fucking human men that don't do that? What the fuck."

"Batarians too." He chuckles , shifting underneath Rebecca to make sure she's got the space to work while his legs don't.

"Yeah but like, ick." She was a little distracted as she was trying to figure out the logistics of spearing herself. There was a bit more dexterity required than she really expected.

"Need some help? I've done this before." Krat offers calmly, teasing her with a grin.

She shot him in the chest with a sweet spray of blood over her as two hearts give it significant force, then feeling the top one reach her entrance, she guided the bottom one to the second opening. The blood tasted so good as she started to gently slide down the Krogan.

Rebecca wondered how she looked as she started to get a rhythm moving, and licked the open wound. Trying to suck blood out of the regenerator greedily, adoring the sweetness of flooding sugars mixed in with an almost sour candy taste of adrenaline in vast quantities inside it.

Despite the injury, there is some movement from Krat as his hands move to settle on Rebecca's hips, and the sides of her legs all at the same time, massive palms ensconcing much of her as he starts to rumble and growl, vibrations passing between them from the vast diaphragm and powerful vocal chords used to roaring challenges across miles of blasted wasteland.

He hardens somehow, warmer, hotter than human just like Camlos, somehow more, a metabolic rate best reserves for an internal combustion engine making steam come out of his mouth and wounds, as Rebecca drinks and enjoys her conquest, enthusiastically having that enjoyment returned by hips that are beginning to work again.

Its frenetic, and its endless, there's no sign of Krat stopping anywhere on the horizon as minutes stretch into tens of minutes. He's stood up, but hasn't broken anyone's spine yet, instead focusing on the woman pressing into him with a whine of servos and a straining of muscles whilst he turns into a roaring furnace.

The wall groans in the ceaseless pumping frenzy he's entered, an inexorable pace filling Rebecca completely, making her breath catch as her body starts to shudder and tense, a cramp in her thighs warning her of the future as the Krogan makes it his goal in life to ruin her to any other man, audible in the delighted growls and grunts escaping him.

A hot tongue, broad and long, why are all their tongues so long, starts to lap at her neck, shoulders and breasts, seeing what's erogenous or not, finding the taste enticing with a chuckle of, "You taste like sour candy." As he gets back to the stimulation of peaks and the nibble that feels like a bite of teeth which leaves their mark. A pistol is still in hand as a Vorcha coming to investigate noise finds out, even now, Rebecca is aware of her surroundings as a mass accelerator slug punches into its head and sprays brains and bone in a scarlet and white arc to the wall beside it, the creature falling like a puppet with its strings cut.

The position changes, now atop a bar counter as new parts of her walls are pushed against, the immense quantity of liquid making everything sound loud, lewd and exciting as Krat starts to grunt again, a shudder entering him as his heart rates start to climb and go higher and higher, felt through their connection, veins and arteries stretching to accommodate the blood-flow while Rebecca moans and screams without care as to who hears, making this moment hers.

A pistol shot slams into the wall as he starts to lose rhythm, fighting for it but finding the battle lost from the start as an eternity of noise and heat and lust and sex starts to realign with what is seemingly reality, the walls and colours and surroundings turning from mere backdrop to something sensical and real.

It's an outpouring, Rebecca feels it spill out immediately, boiling, nearly uncomfortably hot spreading out with a extremely sweet scent, flooding the room as Krat holds on with powerful muscles, cybernetic arms doing the same leaving green or purple bruises respectively across their flesh. It keeps going for nearly a minute, before, with a roar, Krat stops, breathing hard. Sounding more akin to a bellows for a locomotive than a sapient creature. And then he starts moving again.

"You done yet?" He means it as a challenge.

"Who the fuck told you to stop. You can breathe after." Rebecca growled, now angry infuriated that he would choose that moment to think about quitting.

The challenge is set in and met head on as a renewed pace.

---

CTRL+F Porn End​

---

The bar is a ruin, smelling strongly of sex and blood and ozone from electromagnetic rails as Krat and Rebecca are still idly near one another considering another round to their double digits, though both are desperately in need of rest from a purely physical perspective.

Chairs are bent and thrown aside, tables used and then tossed aside for the floor instead, the counter dented in by finger marks from cybernetic limbs clasping tight, dents in steel everywhere from clenched fists and hard slams.

A light hangs from the ceiling, the only one not fritzing from bullets and impacts, nor covered in blood from harsh arterial sprays powered by two titanic hearts. They both sit amongst the ruins and tatters of a once useful establishment, four more vorcha dead at the door, either shot or thrown into walls like dolls.

"How do you feel about Clan Strognot?" Rebecca asks looking at the Krogan. "Meh, you'll learn to live with it." She says as Krat starts to respond.

"The fuck does it even mean?" He asks, breathing steadily now that the bullets have been fully pushed out of his flesh and more specifically, lungs.

Rebecca stopped, turned off her translator for a second. "Logh Mogr" She tries to annunciate slowly, the words are very difficult without multiple lungs. "Did I say it right that time?"

"Worthy Fists? That's ... actually not bad. Musta fucked your brains into shape after rushing at me with a gun and knife you didn't use." Krat chuckles, still somewhat aggravated by it.

"Oh I thought we weren't telling people that." Rebecca said, though making sure to kill a spying Vorcha anyways, his brains joining the gore painting the bar.

"If you tell anyone, I won't fuck you." Krat finds a perfect threat, at least to his mind.

Rebecca rolled her eyes hard, standing up. Then, she looked at him, and considered for a moment. Before reaching back and headbutting him hard. Breaking the synthetic skin around the band of steel she had installed around her skull. "You think so?"

Stumbling back with the impact with a grit of his teeth, the translator works to best find a good equivalent of his words, "No, ma'am." He grows back. Obviously annoyed, but not angry after being reminded of his defeat.

Yay!~ Rebecca thinks to herself, and nods. Taking a deep breath. "Alright then, I... Don't know what's next, really." She looked down, and around her, "Probably a shower, we're just surrounded by blood, jizz, and brains. Why would they keep coming in?"

"Vorcha are fucking stupid. Also we'll need a cleaning service. This is ... unsalvageable." Krat stares at the broken wall-mounted amenities and quietly groaning jukebox. "Fuck, I liked that jukebox." He grumbles.

Rebecca groaned, "Oh man, I did too. Are they going to let us back in after this?"

"If we pay for it, probably. Speakin' of that, chieftain, you get to handle the books now." He taps at an omnitool slowly, sending over spreadsheet after spreadsheet for pay, equipment, kit and everything else he had for the platoon of "Unblooded" that Rebecca is now leader of.

Rebecca's eyes lit up, That's right chieftain. She's just a fuckin, she's just a leader now. Like that. Hell yes, holy shit.

 

[Princess Scribe]

Fucking editing be like:

 

[MostlyApathetic]

I had to log in for the first time in forever to let you know that I fucking adore your story. The characters have all gripped me from their first words and I can't wait to see what crazy shenanigans Becky will get them all embroiled in. Thanks for the many chapters ^^b

 

[Krazyfan1]

Very good.
I see she has some upgrades..
Wonder if they do more than durability and strength?
You know, since he's a regenerator she could probably straight up take a bite out of his shoulder or thigh…
mid-battle/round snack?

 

[Princess Scribe]

I had to log in for the first time in forever to let you know that I fucking adore your story. The characters have all gripped me from their first words and I can't wait to see what crazy shenanigans Becky will get them all embroiled in. Thanks for the many chapters ^^b

Click to shrink...

This is going into my scrapbook of writing compliments for sure.

 

[Princess Scribe]

Very good.
I see she has some upgrades..
Wonder if they do more than durability and strength?

Click to shrink...

Becky is a ware junkie. She loves to tinker.

 

[Princess Scribe]

This MC I think is largely based on this concept:


View: https://youtube.com/shorts/4OwDcuGz1kY?si=pPovvEqvv-w3H6D5

 

[Krazyfan1]

Becky is a ware junkie. She loves to tinker.

Click to shrink...

Hmm....
Cyberware arm ideas...

Shield generator.
Grappling Hook.
Microwave.
Flamethrower.
Vibrator.
Omnitool (by the way, those are intentionally limited from their actual potential in-universe, imagine what the unlocked version can do)
Claws.
Parachute.

 

[Princess Scribe]

Vro is sitting at his reinforced chair, the one that can lean back fully and seems to mimic the most expensive in massage chair technology as well as supporting a Krogans full weight, vibrating underneath him. They're in his shop once again, but this time in the small living space he owns attached. There's not much to say about it, it's a metal room with a few trinkets and trophies. It seemed the only thing he collected were guns, guns that he put on display and never sold.

"Right!? So, I shoot the last of the Vorcha, and then, and then." Rebecca spoke with so much glee, her entire body shaking, "And THEN He gets up to fight. I do this human fighter thing where you run up a guys leg, and hit them from above them. We're scrapping, back and forth. Getting thrown into walls, into the bar. Just a full on insane fist fight."

Rebecca was pacing back and forth as she regaled her adventures with the blood pack. The missions were average, normally the entire recap being, "It was fine." This, however, was a moment, "Anyways, yeah so I like cracked the dudes skull into his eye. I basically make his hearts go out of sync. I'm giggling so happy. I did it,"

Rebecca said, "So he seemed strong enough to still be good for a screw, so I told him he was in my new clan and we fucked. That was cool, I very much could get used to sour apple flavored men. Oh, he called me uh." Rebecca tried to find the word, "Chieftain, but I think it was actually." She turned the translator off for a moment, "Logh'vex," then she clicked it back on, "But the translators are fucking garbage for Krogan."

"Close enough for battlefield use. You just went from firefight to fucking? Huh, even Asari'd struggle with that whiplash." Vro says idly flicking through his omnitool.

"Why, fighting is like. Sexy. Not only that there's some weird shit with krogan blood that is so insanely hot and like. You're all filled with candy. Are you aware to a levo, you're all just... Made of candy." Rebecca asked even more excited as she almost squeaks.

The Krogan snorts, finding the whole exchange hilarious. "You're doing good. Now, stop fucking your subordinates and start ordering them around. A hundred year old Krogan probably let it all fall to fucking pieces so long as they listened. No discipline."

"Oh yeah, the spreadsheets are really shit. We're bleeding money, some of the Krogans aren't getting good shit. The Vorcha are useless, and seem to have some sort of like... Disorder." Rebecca grimaced, "I tried to get one to use a gun and it just stared at me. I think it was going to try and eat it. Another one shot itself immediately."

"Can you believe they can fly dropships well? Amazing three dimensional instincts." Vro chuckles.

Rebecca looked at the Krogan as if he was insane. There was simply no way that was true. Still, she did a search on her omnitool.

Vorcha Pirate Pilots outmaneuver Turian picket patrol, kill fifty starfighters in protracted engagement in the void.

"What?" Rebecca said looking at the report, "But they have three brain cells between the entire species."

Vro laughs broadly, sounding like an amused parent showing something to his child as he pulls up more videos, "And two of them are for flying! HAH!" The Vorcha chatter in their short, fast language as recordings of Turian network specialists saying 'What the hell are they saying!?' Gaining nothing from having cracked their comms while they dogfight.

A quick omnitool search revealed a few things that seemed capable, "I could give them jetpacks and barriers, send them in as skirmishers, back them up with the far sturdier, slower, stronger Krogan I think."

"Probably, but you are broke as fuck right now. Two hundred kay for a platoon? The Krogans probably get half of that a month." Vro points out the costs.

"Yeah, they do, but I just need to make enough profit to roll into the starting gear. Then it's just replacing what doesn't come back." Rebecca murmured, "I'm thinking of making them turn in their gear after the fight so I can log it, then give the pay."

"Careful, Krogans get attached. I wrote the names of everyone important I killed on my rifle." Vro chuckles, looking at the ancient assault rifle in the corner, far out of date but still appreciated.

"Meant the vorcha, the Krogans generally can be trusted not to pawn their shit or kill themselves with it." Rebecca said looking to Vro and back. "If they're just pawning their guns every time I hand them one, I'll just know by checking the spreadsheet when I'm handing them out."

"Good work, what's your first contract? I heard some rumbling about an Eezo site takeover from a Batarian asteroid mine? You'll probably be sent in to crack their line I'm guessing." The Krogan starts to think.

Rebecca nodded, "If ships were a little bit cheaper, I'd just stick one of the little bugs in there and have them strafe. I think in low gravity, the jetpacks will be good. Especially since I actually got back most of the barriers of the last job."

"This'll be funny to watch, Vorcha in flight, getting shredded by Batarian guns. Record it, you can make money off it." Vro suggests, finding the idea amusing though not insulting its efficacy. Vorcha are there to die anyways.

"Yeah, I'm probably not going to put them all in jetpacks for this first job. I only have about a half dozen Krogans, I want them in top of the line barriers with guns that make them want to come back." Rebecca laid out her thoughts, "I can't compete with pay right now, but I can make this shit fun and easy. Thinking of setting aside a bonus for the Krogan with the most kills. They'll keep each other honest."

"For now." Vro starts, "See if the fuckers'll follow orders right. I bet my quad they're idiots, Blood Pack low rankers are always idiots. Violent, stupid, lethal idiots. Like you, but stupider." He uses words deftly, very practically explaining the problem "Maybe have your fuckbuddy sergeant or whatever beat them into line, start enforcing rules."

"Why can't I?" Rebecca asked.

"Cause you got a underling, don't show 'em the respect of doing it yourself. That means they're important, makes their cocks swell up and their heads shrink when someone gives 'em attention." Vro waves a hand to accentuate his opinion of the idea, "Treat a Krogan like garbage, or a mushroom. Keep 'em in the dark and full of bullshit. They'll die for you then."

"My only real issue, is that command means a lot less of the front line throat slitting stuff." She admitted with a sigh, "The more spreadsheets, more pay, less fun." The realization makes Vro chuckle and then laugh, finding the stark sigh from Rebecca peak humour as he starts slamming a fist into the counter of his storefront.

"Just you wait, some day, you'll be holed up in some office, watching everyone else fight." He giggles, though its more of a rumbling replication of a giggle than something understandably human, "Then you'll know why I got out of fighting."

"Why would you wish that on me, I have done nothing to you to receive such an odious curse." Rebecca ticked off her omnitool's word of the day calendar.

"The fuck you learn the word odious from." Vro looks over in surprise, "Stop getting smarter, it's intimidating imagining you with a quarter-brain."

Rebecca said, "Sorry, you told me to be less stupid. I've been spending all my free time taking free classes on the infranet." She shows him the word of the day calendar. "Though that one is just from this app to learn more words. It's got a few languages, so I'm trying to learn Krogan and Asari, which should be the two most useful military wise."

"There's no one language for either of those. You're probably learning some trade tongue though. Useful. Will get you plenty of blue girls. They get scary when you speak their language." Vro remembers fondly, "Real scary."

Rebecca looks at Vro, then back to her omnitool, then back to Vro. "Hmm."

Private Message to Doctor Girlfriend /change_keyboard Trade-Asari Rebecca Hey, am I spelling this right in Trade-Asari, "My favorite color is orange." Doctor Girlfriend Your favourite colour is about to be black and blue. /change_keyboard English(US) Rebecca Not even a little impressed? Doctor Girlfriend It is very cute you're learning my language. Would you like instruction? I think an hour a day together would actually be quite nice. /change_keyboard Trade-Asari Rebecca (WARNING context unclear due to grammar and spelling errors.): "I would (adore/love/desperately need) to be (taught/directed/ordered/told what to do)" Doctor Girlfriend Lovely.

 

[Princess Scribe]

Vro grumbles, "Stop flirting on my time, you can ride her silicone on your own." He points to a shutter that's not been pulled down yet.

"That's fair, yeah." Rebecca said moving quickly to get back to work. The shutter was pulled down, and it felt good to get the days work done. "I should probably antagonize her a little less. I don't think she's realized the new room fragrance is citrus oil yet. She loves it. I'm scared."

"You do realize she's got krogan-sized toys. Right?" Vro tries to warn Rebecca off the idea of prodding the Matriarch further.

"No! The bitch!" Rebecca growled angrily, "How dare she not share." And then immediately realizes his mistake with an amused sigh as he stands up, popping underneath a habitually worn hardsuit.

"Alright, good luck with your....thing on the asteroid. Bring along the Turian. Zero G and no real horizon means he can point and click heads all day." Vro suggests with a grin of finally getting to move one room over and then do the same thing he's been doing all day. Nothing.

Rebecca nodded agreeing entirely, the day had just gotten started. "Do Asari really have trouble going from killing to sex? I was able to still shoot Vorcha while we were rutting."

"You had ammo." He flatly states, turning to stare at Rebecca with a glare of disappointment.

Rebecca froze. Her tongue going dry, almost wilting under his gaze. "I... I didn't mention that part? Ha-ha oh." She gulped quietly, "I—"

"You want me to determine punishment or Lisyris?" The glare continues, either physical torment or physical torment. No real way out.

Rebecca groaned, they were both terrible. "Would the punishment have been less if I used my knife?"

"Yes. Then you'd have used your perfectly usable. Purchased for this purpose, weapons." He grits his teeth, showing them in a growl, "Like I taught you."

"I used the very effective fists I bought. And! He seemed really bothered when he found out. So he's really helping with the commander stuff." Rebecca tried to save herself somehow.

"You humiliated him! Of course he is! I don't care about that! You have a gun!" Vro seems incensed, starting to slightly raise his voice from merely boneshaking, to heart-racing, "You have a weapon! Use it! Always! What if you died!" He points a finger angrily.

"I knew I wouldn't! I didn't want to kill a good soldier!" Rebecca said quickly, it was mostly the honor, but the excuse was true as well. "It's just a waste of assets."

"You're saying that because he fucked well!" The Krogan groans, realizing he's still working with stupid. "Damnit, I'm losing my mind."

"No. That's stupid. I didn't fuck him until he seemed like... Actually strong enough to be worth it." Rebecca looked at him with a glare, "I have standards."

"So what you're telling me is, without any sort of imperative, any sort of feeling of attraction, not even a really solid reason besides they seem useful, you got into a protracted fist fight with a Krogan. That's what you're going with?" Vro menacingly asks, making Rebecca realize this was an interrogation.

"Well. No. Well yes, in part, well." She very quickly tries to dance back and forth to not say the very real answer before rubbing her eyes. "I also wanted to... I should spend less time in the arena." She sighed finally, exhaling, "I wanted to prove myself. To myself."

"Fine, Lisyris can handle punishment. I'll sponsor your arena trip so they let you in after the eye eating incident." Vro grumbles, sending a text message to someone.

"What the fuck!? is that why they stopped signing me!?" Rebecca was immediately on her own omnitool reaching out to her 'manager.' The perpetually bullied Turian who booked her shows. "Oh there's no rules, there's no rules. They say it over the live speaker over and over. But you eat one turians eye and people freak the fuck out."

"The majority of your audience is batarians. They get fucked with by eye fucking." Vro explains with a shrug, "So much as touch one and they'll squeak."

"Oh." Rebecca cleared out the very angry text, and wrote a different one entirely.

Private Message to Birdy 2 /nick "Larmus Barculus" "Birdy 2" Rebecca You rat fuck. Just tell me you're not booking me because I ate some eyes! Don't fucking tell me "oh there's no work." The fuck's wrong with you. Birdy2 There's no work for you! No one'll fight you! Rebecca That's not the same thing. I was told I was banned. Birdy2 Because you were because no one'll fight you Rebecca Shouldn't I get some pay as fucking... Ring champion or some shit? If I'm so scary I'm unbeatable I want a belt. A trophy or some fucking thing. Put my name on a plaque that says "Rebecca Dinozzo This bitch is too crazy for us to handle. She made me make a trophy so she didn't kill me." Birdy2 You sound like you're threatening me. That's not nice. We can have a trophy made. Rebecca No, you're right. I meant it as a joke, but I can see how that came off as a threat. I won't kill people for making me angry. That's stupid. Birdy2 Your wisdom is beyond your years. Rebecca Wait. Am I being threatened?

There's no response as Vro sighs, going back to his attached home and then falling asleep on the couch, embracing a lifestyle much like a turtle, or a cat. A cat-turtle.

"Hey, can I send you some texts. I want to know if I was being threatened by a manager I treated like shit for a long time." Rebecca asked, "Or if I just spooked him." She fired the chat log to the Krogan through their chat.

"He's probably cutting ties 'cause you treated him like shit for awhile and finally went too far." The Krogan grumbles without looking at the messages, "You've got that habit, remember?"

"Everyone I know is into it." Rebecca groaned, sitting on the floor against the wall.

Private message to Birdy 2 Rebecca Were we not going to fuck? I thought this was a like "bullying a bottom" thing. That's on me actually. I should not make that assumption of everyone I meet.

"The fuck you mean everyone you know." Vro is grumbling above Rebecca with a glare, staring down at her, having made the distance silently.

How did he move so quietly? Rebecca wondered. She looked up at the Krogan, that had somehow teleported next to her. "I... Definitely misspoke. Lisyris has never responded anything but dominantly." Then it hit her, "OH FUCK! No, Right! No! SORRY!"

Private message to Birdy 2 Birdy2 No. I don't like humans. Rebecca Oh holy shit, I am so sorry. This is one of our like... I am such a piece of shit. Birdy2 I'm going to try and schedule you something alright? Just calm down, there's some new fighters, they're....unaware. Rebecca Yeah, but also I am actually sorry. I definitely misunderstood some things. I'll be more respectful. Well, no, but I won't be actively shitty. I'll try my best. I don't want to over promise, that just seems misleading. Birdy2 Spirits, you are fucking crazy. Who just assumes people are attracted to them? Rebecca Have you seen me? I'm like. The ideal mate, universally, everyone loves this. Birdy2 Pink and fleshy. You look like I'd carve you up by accident. Not exactly a Turians type. Rebecca [ Pic Attached bloody_rebecca_camlos.png 26.6 mb] Birdy2 What. Rebecca I'm everyone's type. See? I'm covered in his blood. He's so happy! Birdy2 I'll call you when I find a fight. Rebecca Sorry, quick question. Is this how business talks normally go? I'm going to be doing more like, negotiating stuff. Birdy2 No. Don't ever lead with your Turian blood fetish. Spirits. Rebecca Are you fairly normal? I can hire you for teaching me manners. Birdy2 No. You can't pay me enough. Rebecca I mean... Say a number? Birdy2 Fifteen thousand creds a month. Rebecca Okay. Birdy2 Shit. Rebecca Oh. Uh, the arena isn't about the money. I just like kind of mixing it up. The money just gets me to come in. [ pic attached rebecca_bank_account.jpg 29.4 mb] Birdy2 Spirits, I hate you. I'll be available for socialization in a few hours. Transfer the first month now. Rebecca This is literally socialization, if you try to fuck me I'll be, well not shocked, but upset. Birdy2 I realize I'm not the stations most expensive prostitute, yes-Well, no, a night with Aria costs two-hundred thousand actually. Rebecca Is that something you can like, who would I contact for that? Birdy2 What, Aria's services? She's got a secretary. Rebecca Huh rad. Here's the first 15, and a tip 20k transferred Not fucking you. You're kind of cranky. Birdy2 You will not flirt with me. If you flirt with me I'm giving you your money back and leaving. Immediately. Not even a word. Makes my plates shiver. Rebecca Okay? My flirting is mostly violence and insults. It should be pretty easy to avoid that. I don't really like making people uncomfortable. I realize with the eye thing that may seem untrue. Those are combatants. I enjoy that. But like. I don't go smashing small children and puppies I'm not a monster. I just kind o f like blood Birdy2 Please call Aria's secretary and let me eat in peace. Rebecca Ah. Sorry. Well. Good Luck.

"Have you just been reading over my shoulder this entire time?" Rebecca asked, looking up at Vro.

"Yup. You're still stupid. Getting better though." Vro answers, still staring at the omnitool with keen interest, "You gonna call Aria's secretary?"

"I need to pay you back first before I get a two hundred thousand dollar lay." Rebecca laughed.

"She choked a guy to death while mind-melding with him once." Vro chuckles, remembering it fondly.

She flicked through her omnitool, "Oh. Did the stupid moron actually try to fuck. What the fuck. No, if I pay that I'm expecting to ask for work."

"Its a double purchase. She might fuck you. Apparently she's like...Asari peak sexuality or something. Dunno, not a submissive, never saw the fun there." Vro shrugs, "But if she likes you, she'll do it, I got a couple stories from gals and guys who did it, apparently really like, open to things."

"Yeah, but are they sure it was her?" Rebecca asked, "That seems like something you could easily switch out."

"You....mind meld with her, kinda hard to fake memories and the ache she's got in her left knee from getting it shot out. Either consistently her, or same body double every time." He considers the logistics of that, "More seriously though, its nine times outta ten an entry fee to talk to her. The sex's rare, like, one out of a hundred."

"Guy she choked out tried to talk to her without the fee. Was hilarious, he got to see himself getting murdered from both perspectives." Vro chuckles again.

"Why wouldn't you just say nine out of a thousand?" Rebecca asked quizzically. "Nine times out of ten it's an entry fee, one out of a hundred it's sex, so it's nine out of a thousand."

Vro sagely nods, before uttering, "Fuck your math." In a wizened and experienced tone.

She quickly wrote down and multiplied the mixed fraction. Then checked her work , and showed it with a calculator. "No, look it is!" Rebecca stopped for a moment. "I may not be within the typical range of human like... Brain shit."

"You, stupid. Me, smart. Make you less stupid." More sage wisdom from Vro as he starts tapping at his omnitool with a stylus, writing a message to Lisyris that starts with 'Rebecca needs to suffer for at least two hours.' before the message moves past her field of vision.

Private Message to Doctor Girlfriend Rebecca No. No. I can explain. Doctor Girlfriend No need, I already have ideas. How do you feel about orange flavouring? Rebecca Is... Ok wait, is this because of the air freshener, the clinic, or fist fighting a korgan without using any of my working gear. Doctor Girlfriend I'm collating them. We can kill three birds with one toy. Rebecca You like the air freshener! It's okay to like shit you like. What makes it fun to tease about is how much it bothers you. Doctor Girlfriend That's fine. Rebecca Oh, but I hired a normal adjusted person to teach me social ettiquette. His name is Larmus I thought he was a bottom. He was actually just being horrifically bullied. Doctor Girlfriend That's great! I'm glad you're making real friends. Sexual relationships aren't the only thing someone needs. Do you need to breathe more than once every three minutes? Rebecca What? Uh, no, five minutes I think. Doctor Girlfriend Its fine, I'll do some research to be sure. Rebecca There's excercises I do why? Doctor Girlfriend Writing up the punishment flowchart. Just planning it for now. Rebecca Wait, so you can do paperwork for this but you can't fill out a form. Doctor Girlfriend I can do paperwork! I just, don't like too. This is more paperfun though. Ooh I have sensitizing gel. Rebecca That gel sucked, no gel. Please. Doctor Girlfriend This a Red? Rebecca Yeah red. No gel, it was too weird last time to do along with a huge list of things. Doctor Girlfriend That's perfectly fine lover. We can try it later with just some kissing and touching? At least on me, I really enjoy it. Rebecca Yeah, absolutely. Doctor Girlfriend And just so you're not worried, I've been receiving some donations from Camlos, if you can make it through, I've got vials for you! Rebecca I'm crossed between YaaaaY!~ and I'm not a vampire, Doctor Girlfriend I'm very proud of how proactive you are with your feelings now, its great! But you're totally a vampire. Once you found out I tasted like sweetened menthol, you tried to bite me. Rebecca Oh. That explains so many things. That's the reason for the long gloves? Doctor Girlfriend You biting me? No, I just look great in them. I'd show off our marks proudly lover.

 

[Krazyfan1]

nice to see her improving.

i wonder what other aliens taste like?

 

[Princess Scribe]

We're definitely going down that path with our little freak show!

 

[Princess Scribe]

Larmus is a barefaced Turian, having no clan markings, he had always been an outcast in normal society. He's built his life on his own, with no help from a single soul, a well-respected, influential organizer of brutal blood sports. He's worked hard for what he's made and is proud of it, rising above what anyone expected of him, and even now, opportunity flows with his achievements, a doubling of what he makes in a month from what sounds like a simple job.

The Turian on the couch covered in healing plate-scars that'll fade in a week, waves as he comes in, the purple loveseat seeming to ensconce him near-entirely as he rumbles amused, "She'll be out in a second, sounds like they're in aftercare." As both of the sharp-eared aliens can hear gentle cooing, and adoringly brightly proud compliments through the wall escape an Asari.

Light shines in from an opulent window over a massive condo, he can't help but notice the size, and how wealth seems to touch everything around him. From the hardwood floors, to the very real organic fabrics, to the countertops from Thessia of all places, it's apparent to him that he's being allowed into something a bit higher class than normal. It's a shot, a real shot at a raise in status. Though the sounds he's hearing are starting to wear at whether this will truly be easy money and reputation building.

The door opens, one of his fighters covered in wounds including mass accelerator fire, thin whip thing scars, burn marks, signs of electroshock, many many many bites, and covered in Asari, Turian, and Human blood. It's not entirely clear how much is fresh, as some of it smells far older than it should. The Asari Matriarch who is accompanying her in a slightly better condition. She only has a few bite marks, scratch marks, and bruises here or there, from an extremely excited and aggrieved woman lashing out.

Rebecca is still shivering as she exits, but seems to be stable. Or at least conscious and aware of her surroundings. "I didn't mean to make you wait. Sorry."

"Ah." Larmus mutters, a gritty tone to his voice as an older Turian than Camlos, making it less of a smooth whisper and more of a reptilian rattle. "I can come back another time. You seem....busy." The Turian is dressed in a long robe that trails on the floor, buttoned at the front all the way down.

Rebecca looks confused at him, "What do you mean?"

"You're naked and freshly....whatever you two did." Larmus grumbles.

"Oh, mostly extremely violent sex." Rebecca said, "I could talk to you while I'm in the shower? I'm mostly looking for training on manners and being polite."

"Lets.....wait for you to have clothes on. I'm being paid salary, not hourly." He gets out smoothly, with only a slight hiccup of consideration at the start as he looks around the citrus-scented apartment. Meanwhile Lisyris starts to smile again, rubbing a circle into Rebecca's back very proudly.

"Yeah, sure." Rebecca quickly picks up a shirt off the floor to start wiping off blood, before putting it on and walking back into the bedroom to retrieve the rest of her clothes. She comes out moments later in ragged almost torn clothing. Then joins Larmus at the other end of the long dining room table that's kept in the open-space condo.

"I guess you've only seen me in armor really. Yeah! Manners." Rebecca said with a grin.

"Lesson one. Clean, presentable clothing. Professional style." Larmus gets out the words again, pulling up omnitool images of suits and dresses in the human style, well-fitted and exceptionally expensive looking.

Her eyes lock on, and she's silent, taking notes. Listening to his words, and trying to remember things.

"These are human business fashions. I don't quite know the gender difference, most species don't, so wear something like this and it'll be respectful." He flicks through a myriad of dress shirts, mid thigh dresses and everything else that's business casual to Rebecca, though apparently business professional now.

Rebecca looks at the pictures, "How do you fit a rifle, or a kinetic barrier on them?"

"Kinetic barriers can be in a belt, rifles aren't professional." The Turian explains. "Pistols on a business meeting for mercenaries are expected. You can have it magnetized to metal in the clothes. It'll stick."

"Got it, yeah. Things like this is why I think the blood pack was the best choice." Rebecca looks at him nodding. "Less worrying about what I'm doing."

There's a distasteful trill from Larmus as he hears Blood Pack, "Quite, you'd fit in well. But if you're the only human in the Pack, you'll be their face. Despite all your faults, you're still easier to look at than a Krogan."

"Oh, is calling turian's ugly polite?" Rebecca asked, her tone was earnest and genuine. Even writing it down as a note for herself. "Because I was told I might get shot if I called a Turian, a bird, for example."

"Humans and Asari have a cultural reaction to being called unattractive. We are not birds. Calling a turian a bird implies we are flighty. Our evolutionary descent is from land-borne predators." He explains with clipped tones and careful word choices, a consummate professional.

"Oh. Birds on Earth hunt like, lions and things. That makes sense why it would bug people." Rebecca furrowed her brows.

Larmus resumes instruction, "The Turian ancestor was a sprinter in the jungle, it leapt upon prey from trees and out of prepared pits. Very direct. To bud off that point, calling a Turian honest is an exceptional compliment. Typically reserved for trusted companions. Do not say it casually, I realize it's a human trait to do so."

Rebecca bit her lip a little, a bit nervous, "Is it polite with humans? I should give context maybe? I uh. I was a cracked open cryotube from the information age of earth. I don't know anything, I've been kind of winging it."

"I believe so. Human mercenaries typically respond to bravado and professionalism. Be practical, brave and direct." He nods, thinking himself entirely correct. "Now, your wardrobe needs work. I'll forward tailors I believe do good work." Larmus taps at his omnitool and sends it to Rebecca.

"Do you know prices for things?" Rebecca asked quickly, "Like uh, what's fair?"

"I know how to figure out when someone's fucking me over. But I do not innately know prices, especially out of my field." He explains.

Rebecca nodded again, "Are you being fairly compensated?"

"So far, yes. But its my first day on the job. I doubt it'll be this easy going forwards." Larmus has a scar, its interesting, Rebecca has never seen a grizzly Turian scar, its deep, starting on the side of his mandible and going up to the side of his head, at the fringe. Underneath it, replacement cyberware can be seen, showing that a horrible injury happened at some point.

"Can you not afford synth skin to get your scar healed?" Rebecca asked, "That seems interesting."

"Polonium explosives. The skin and plate is rotted off, no remaining cells to mirrors." He quickly answers with a shrug.

"Ah shit, tough luck. We used to feed that to people, to kill them silently." Rebecca knew polonium, wasn't quite aware it was explosive, but it made sense.

"A useful poison, yes. They make mass accelerator rounds out of it now. The polonium hits a shield and detonates into gas. Annoying." He grimaces, "Permanent damage, the Citadel is making it a war crime to use."

She freezes suddenly, frightened. Rebecca isn't sure what to say, and makes a small choking noise. "Those... Are still a thing then?"

"Quite. The Citadel Council has outlawed use of biological weapons, self-directed artificial intelligences and certain chemical and radiological weapons. Why?" Larmus rattles off things that seem way out of a mercenary company's league.

Rebecca's eyes dart nervously. "Knowledge is its own reward."

"Awww, you remembered!" Lisyris is very proud again as she sits naked at a terminal, booting up a program of some stripe to do paperwork, typing happily after the extended session, seeming very energized. "You're learning very fast, Rebeca."

"Thanks!" Rebecca blushed, "I kind of picked up that running around eating eyes and taking throats would get my foot in the door, but knowing shit would probably be the next step to just... improving. And making more money."

She looked back to the Turian, "I'm a few hundred thousand credits in debt. I've got a payment plan though don't worry." The assurance seems ineffective against the raw amount of debt.

"Spirits, I.....well, Its not my problem. Are you looking for work soon?" The Turian can't help but ask, Larmus was worried about future payments.

"The blood pack is paying 200k for the next job, and I think this is a small one. They come around... Maybe once or twice a month? It's small, because again you just need to be extremely violent and capable of withstanding large scale carnage." Rebecca pulled out her omnitool, she stood up to show the Turian a video, "Here's what I do at work mostly."

It's a horrific video of Rebecca, manic eyed with a knife in a turian's head, using his body to keep him between herself and accelerator fire, her other hand is on a weapon. It's a gif that says, "Girls love to have fun!"

He grimaces at the sight, "Quite, you're...moving into a managerial role, as I understand it?" The Turian moves his gaze back.

"Yeah! Spreadsheets mostly, kind of why I want to keep the arena going if I can." Rebecca nodded, pulling up a second gif. The Turian notices the file number is in the hundreds.

"Lets leave the vids for another time." The Turian politely declines.

It clicked, and Rebecca stopped, "Oh, oh, this is gross for some people. Sorry, yeah. Um I know these are polite classes, but I may need direct instruction until I know what... A normal person goes through on their day to day. You can't piss me off enough to get violent without like..." She looks him up and down, assessing his combat capabilities, and whether his opinion would be worth it. "You'd have to try pretty hard I think."

"I did my time in the military, like all Turians." The Turian grumbles, "But yes, I'll.....see what I can do."

Rebecca pointed to the gif, confused. "He also served his time. Turians say that a lot. It seems important. It's like a constant thing."

Camlos decided to join in, his voice carrying from the loveseat to the table the two had moved too, "It's a weird thing. The Hastatus are the ones that fight like you." Camlos adds, "They specialize in COIN stuff, like crushing insurgents and fighting in cities. You should look them up, they're all short and wiry so they can fit into any building. Exactly your type." The Turian seems preoccupied sighting a rifle, the same rifle he's had since the botched ship betrayal.

"Oh! So are they the one that burn down hospitals with people inside?" Rebecca asked.

Larmus grimaces, as Camlos shrugs and says, "Uh, I think they prefer to gas the building."

She turned back to Larmus, "But yeah, is there a response to that people are looking for? There was a Turian at the arena who was talking about it. I got excited and shared too but he got real freaked out."

Larmus grimaces at the enormity of the task, "You need to...develop multiple layers of response. And figure out what is appropriate by feeling their responses out. Try.......bar hopping. More than just veteran's bars. Make conversation."

"Ah. After the rampage with the apartment building explosion, I'm banned from a lot of bars." Rebecca sighed shaking her head, "It's a big city though, I'll try maybe schwankier places."

"The....more expensive places would help. I'd recommend perhaps a trip to the Citadel, to interact with legal individuals." Larmus explains, waving a hand.

"Would I get arrested?" Rebecca moved back towards her chair, mostly to sit down after being declined more gifs.

"Don't commit a crime? Why would you be arrested?" Larmus seems confused, "Omega doesn't report things to them, so anything you've done here is moot."

Rebecca says, "I was sentenced to ten years in prison before I got frozen."

"Why would the Citadel Council and C-SEC care about some ancient prison sentence from centuries ago?" Larmus stared at her with even more confusion. The woman seemed to exist in a reality that was out of sync with everyone else.

"Well, you said war crimes. I was found guilty of desecrating corpses, burning down hospitals, targeting civilian sites, transporting black tar heroine in the bodies of the dead, and then there's the classified stuff that might have been declassified since then, that would have been involving... Well, a lot of the things you mentioned." Rebecca proffered.

"No one knows that. So don't bring it up." The Turian offers, "Copy?"

She wrote that down too. Then increased the size and moved it to the top of her notes. "NEVER MENTION YOUR WAR CRIMES."

"Perhaps I should, ugh, negotiate for you. I'll....take a cut instead of a salary." The Turian grumbles.

Rebecca looked at him, trying to figure out what he'd get a cut of. "Oh, I've not gotten any offers to negotiate. This isn't strictly pertaining to anything. I just want to be better."

"I see. We'll be here awhile then." Larmus starts to type at his omnitool.

"Yeah, but I don't want to get in the way of anything. I know rent is fucked in Omega." Rebecca said looking him up and down. "Do you eat enough? You're kinda... Sickly looking. Skinny, no muscles really."

"I'm old and don't exercise. What do you want from me?" Larmus rumbles out annoyed.

Rebecca nods, "I also work at a free, well, sorta free clinic when I'm not doing mercenary work. If you need help getting well enough to exercise."

Larmus calmly shakes his head, and says, "I will be fine as I am. At seventy, I've decided to let myself not have so much stress in daily life."

She has a small intake of air, as if she got a paper cut, "Oh, sorry. I would have been way nicer if I had known."

"That you're speaking to a middle aged man?" Larmus was getting used to the confusion, embracing the flow of it, honing it to a tool of calm.

"No, that you were trying to have less stress in your life." Rebecca said looking at him, "The people I fight are looking to die, so I let them. You're not looking for someone to treat you like shit."

"Most people are not. Most people whom fight you see it as a means to an end for money." Larmus explains with a sigh.

"Well. No, if they know I'm on the field and are fighting, they want to die I think." Rebecca seemed very self-assured. "Why else would they sign up for sure death?"

 

[Princess Scribe]

"This is your ill-socialized assumptions coming out." Larmus grumbles.

She nodded, and tried to take a note but paused. "Uh. That anyone who chooses violence against me is dumb and seeking death? Or talking about fighting? Or wait, there's this other thing I say that might be bad. Sometimes I say 'If god wanted you to live, he wouldn't have allowed you to meet me.' An old earth warlord said it, and I like it so I stole it."

"I pray you never have to fight the Blue Suns, they will kill you." Larmus once again grumbles. "Spirits, this is going to be a work of years."

"Shit. Well. Do you understand the concept of homework?" She asked looking at him.

"You'll have plenty." He continues to type at his omnitool.

Rebecca nodded, "Can I send it to you when I'm finished for more? I don't want to ask too much."

"No. You have eight hours of my time daily. Two of them will be in person. Six will be me preparing coursework. The rest of the day is mine." He firmly sets his boundaries immediately.

"Oh shit, awesome." Rebecca said happily, "Good! I'll make sure to keep to that. Though we should write that all down." She wasn't sure why she was now playing stupid. He made assumptions, about her knowledge Rebecca guessed, so now she had to be dumber so he'd start earlier.

"Spirits. Alright. Activate speech to text." He gestures to Rebecca's omnitool as he settles into the idea of spending hours doing this. "We'll do this all properly. Feel like I'm back in university."

"Was that fun?" Rebecca asked him, turning on her omnitool to record the conversation.

"No. Moving on." He starts to pull a questionnaire up.

Rebecca had one more quick question, "Sorry, are any questions off limits? I asked a drill instructor in boot if his wife was a good lay. He got fucking pissed. I was curious, he seemed unhappy."

"Yes. It'll be part of your testing to figure out what's off limits." Larmus explains, "If you exceed the limits, consider it a bad mark." He makes it a challenge unintentionally as Camlos chuckles.

"She's gonna see how far she can push it now. Idiot." The younger Turian comments while Lisyris lets her typing stop to shake her head amusedly.

Rebecca smiled, "Did something bad happen in university?"

"We'll mark twenty points off this week." Larmus taps at his omnitool to record that, sending her a point total.

She stopped immediately, and narrowed her eyes, pouting. "Do you mind if I test cause and effect a little bit. I'm wondering something."

"Wondering what?" Larmus asks.

"I have this... Like, I know how to tease people really well." Rebecca said, "I'm wondering if that's something I could use to figure out how to not bother people. Like, you don't like university and have a scar. You're working on omega as a blood sport organizer. You obviously fucked up somehow, got busted into something violent but had a spot of bad luck." Rebecca lists off her observations. "That means you were educated, but had low morals which narrows things down, but not that much. You fought hard, for everything."

She reached her conclusion, trying to voice a second sense, "So like, I know I could get you really violent if I made it seem, like, like getting to this point was very less and easy, despite it being a fight for you the entire time."

"Quite. And that's a good observation of what not to do. Now you have to develop another understanding. How to see the opposite of that." Larmus points a finger at himself, "Be used to drive me to a position to help you? Think on it."

Rebecca rubbed her chin, thinking. "I'm sitting in a rich condo. I've shown you huge paychecks, and I make the things I do sound very easy. You don't know that I was abandoned as a child and put into prison, until I became a soldier. That this is the only way to regain a sense of what personhood is." She narrows her eyes, "I could try and mirror our experiences, but that might seem like... Too obvious? Maybe? Because people just roll their eyes."

"You're off track. Don't think about yourself, think about me. My experiences." Larmus directs the logic, "I don't need to like you, I don't need to enjoy your company or even need to not hate you. I need to agree with you. There's a difference there. Try once more."

"So... Oh, I could work this as a challenge, because I do want longer classes." Rebecca said looking at him. "I got you here by offering money, and I could just throw wads of cash, but I'm not made of it. Arena stuff is gambling. So... I could offer contacts I make?"

"Now you're thinking transactionally. Also wrong. Let me explain." The Turian shakes his head. "To take you as an example. Soldier, prisoner, little grasp of normal interaction. I wouldn't try to explain shared benefit or project any sort of negative consequence of not listening to my course of action. The shared benefit would be obvious to you if its real, the negative consequence shrugged off with your self-assured lethality."

Clearing his throat with a rattle-hiss, Larmus continues, "Instead, I'd draw on your directives as a combatant, your desires of leadership from a long career in the armed forces of your people. I'd begin suggesting actions from your point of view. Bringing out ideas with prodding and interaction rather than direct offers of future activity."

"This means, in the event they fail, it doesn't appear to be my fault, and in the event they succeed, you associate that with my careful advisement and presence. I've not given you anything but words, I've not prodded you into anger, nor have I established an emotional bond. It is professional, effective and distant." The Turian finishes with a nod, cybernetic mandible twitching oddly. "Now, how would you manage me?"

"I'd rely on..." Rebecca muttered to herself, distant. "I mean you do get off a little on looking down on me. So I'd let that slide, pretend to not even notice it. Recognition. Not compliments, but like, bonuses."

"Still thinking how to make me like you. Accept your guidance and leadership. As if I'm an underling. Think of me as a customer, a negotiating equal. I won't follow your lead unless I'm very vulnerable. You want to trick, cajole or calmly direct me in the right way without bonding in any way." Larmus explains again, not sounding annoyed or even distressed, rather enjoying this discussion.

Oh, cajole. "I'd imply this was too hard for you. Not directly, I'd just repeatedly offer more money, and things as if I didn't think you were up to it, and needed support."

"Ah, but now you're thinking as the customer. Not the seller. You want them to think you can complete the job. Cajole in this instance means more like....." He thinks on how to communicate the concept. "Cajole means something like an implied risk of not hiring you. A false timeline perhaps. Say something like, 'They're bearing down fast, Mister Batarian, you'll need someone, and another company might not make it here in time.' Make them feel their situation keenly."

"Oh, no-one else will hire you like this. If this relationship ends, you're back where you started, which is with considerably less, because at eight hours a day, it implies you quit or have diverted a ton of your duties from the other job or jobs you work" Rebecca said quickly, thinking hard.

"Now you're idly threatening me. Which is an effective personal negotiation tactic, if ill-appreciated." Larmus grumbles, "We'll need to engage in some educational roleplay, I think. I'll concoct some scenarios to work with for next time."

"Oh, Lisa does that. Like the CSEC and the Robber." Rebecca offered her own experiences, to show understanding. It's a terrible idea. The look on his face makes her stop immediately. Both Camlos, and Lisa are giggling, both at the humor, and knowing they don't have to do this.

"....No. Not quite." The tone Larmus takes is exasperatedly annoyed and mildly horrified. "We'll get back to that idea when I've got them written down." He goes back to his omni-tool writing something down.

It's clear however that he's greatly enjoying teaching, as he continues with his tutoring. "You're decently versed at personal communication, if crude with your words, what you lack is a sense of separation from others. Personal arguments lead to ties and bonds, which lead to personal level disagreements in business. Keeping a cool distance will let you avoid that as well as easily direct the customer to their rightful place."

"I wonder if that's because my job is so intimate." Rebecca offers offhand, "Do not many people deal with so much romance In their day-to-day lives?"

"I think it's more to do with your profound inexperience with relationships, outside of romance and murder." Larmus grumbles again, finding this annoying but educational at least.

"What else is there?" She asked, looking at him again.

"A business relationship. Like ours. With no sexual or violent tones in it." He looks back, annoyed.

Rebecca is confused, "But I'm giving you money, which controls your rent, your food, everything."

"I own my home, and have other sources of income. You control luxuries at best." The Turian stares.

She was even more confused, "What's a luxury? Exactly?"

"Liquor, electronics beyond the most basic, things you can live without." Larmus explains.

"Yeah but if you didn't have those things, wouldn't you just start taking them?"

"No. Because I value my life too much to risk it over an object. You do not value your life overly much. There is a dissonance of values between us." The Turian says with an educational tone, "Its not cultural, rather, personal."

Rebecca thought for a second, "Right. You could imply for me that my family would be safer with these lessons. Or happier, and because I value them more, I would want it more. They wouldn't be less safe because you exist. Your service is beneficial."

Lisa walked over and placed a pint glass of water on the table, and Rebecca took a sip, watching her carefully. Then she went back to the conversation, "I'm trying to apply this to something I want right now. That's not quite what I need to think about, but on a broader scale." Rebecca was mostly mumbling but her words were very clear, "On a broader scale... The more successful I am, the more successful I can make you."

Larmus has already gotten used to Lisa's state of undress, finding it ignorable, instead he leans forward. He's clearly engaged, and his eyes scour Rebecca as if she's an odd puzzle, "You still are considering this relationship transactional instead of business like. You do not want to pay me more. My aid is irrelevant. You should try to convince me to do more for less, or the same. Allow me to explain."

Larmus starts to explain. "I would approach it from my university time, I'm obviously educated and believed in spending time in a university despite being a profiled minority. I likely understand—"

"Er, wait, what?" Rebecca interrupted, "I don't know what a profiled minority is, or the cultural context. It's like racism, right?"

"I am part of a group of individuals treated poorly by the majority of society due to a vagary of birth." Larmus manages to calmly get out, "I am not afforded the same opportunity as other Turians. In any area of society. And am frequently barred from sources of employment."

"The fuck. Why?" Rebecca asked, upset clearly.

"My face is bare of clan markings. I hold no family or kin." The Turian explains.

Her jaw sets, "So you get treated like shit. Because you were born an orphan. Like me."

"Quite." Larmus nods.

"Fuck that." Then she realized there was literally nothing she could do about it. She couldn't even help him in some way, she couldn't buy him a family. Or make him one. "Ah. Sorry."

"Quite. Now that you know this, however, you know that I'm driven by achievement. So, theoretically, you could phrase it as your education being an achievement of mine. If you knew more about me, you could surmise whether or not this means I'd want people to know I did it or not. Thus, you should gather more information, or gamble on assuming. Make sense?" Larmus asks.

"Yeah, you nearly spat when you heard blood pack." Rebecca said out loud, "Then winced, like constantly at every aspect of what I do. My gut says though, if I do work out, if this does. Then I'd be a stunning example. An—"

She interrupted herself to ask, "Are you allowed to be a teacher? In Turian society I mean."

"Good guess. Legally yes, practically, no." Larmus nods to Rebecca.

"You don't need to be seen, or else you'd have picked something far more glamorous." Rebecca still picking up things, "I could hire a second turian? So that your education of me would include the defeat of someone shitty. I could even have them be slightly incompetent. Wait, fuck, no I'm spending more money to do that."

"Exactly, and I'd recommend also hiring a human. Or at least speaking to one. A crucial part of socialization is understanding expected culture." He explains.

Rebecca hissed slightly, "Humans... Are... Not fond of me. Universally. Not in a racist way, they can sense my murder needs."

"And understanding the specific reasoning and cultural background behind that feeling, as well as learning to mimic their more 'normal behaviour' is a crucial part of blending and interacting with polite society, yes. Get over your apprehensions." The Turian waves away the excuse, not caring overly much for it.

"Wait, if I need to hire a human, if I find one as equally needing achievement. Then you two would be competitive." Rebecca said rubbing her chin, "When something even went right, I could send a group message on that one's success. If I got really cut throat I could even have pay based on who I feel is doing better, but then you'd both try to just make me happy. Rather than make me succeed."

Rebecca took another sip of water as she thought, carefully, "Unless, there's an unbiased mediator."

"Too many steps. Bureaucratic inefficiency is setting in. You were onto something. Competition needn't have a practical reward if properly instituted." Larmus explains.

"Like the point thing. I flew right the minute I knew points would be taken away for being a little shit."

"Exactly. Plus ten points." He rewards the understanding with vague, yet now highly sought after points. "I don't need to explain the points, nor how they work, all you need to know is you are being graded."

"Because when you hit the right nerve, they think less about the situation." Rebecca said, starting to finally get it. "I'm trying to set up the perfect scenario, it just needs to be good enough to get to the next deal."

"Exactly, or at least close enough that me saying exactly will get you to agree and move on." Larmus nods again to the woman, "Its all about meeting in the middle, or, if possible, somewhere they think is the middle."

Rebecca rubbed one side of her face, "You're kind of great at this, teaching I mean."

"Five points. Thank you." Larmus sees the practical application of the lesson and accepts the compliment.

 

[Krazyfan1]

new ally acquired.

"Can you not afford synth skin to get your scar healed?" Rebecca asked, "That seems interesting."

"Polonium explosives. The skin and plate is rotted off, no remaining cells to mirrors." He quickly answers with a shrug.

Click to shrink...

couldn't they use cells from further along?
grafts?

Her jaw sets, "So you get treated like shit. Because you were born an orphan. Like me."

"Quite." Larmus nods.

"Fuck that." Then she realized there was literally nothing she could do about it. She couldn't even help him in some way, she couldn't buy him a family. Or make him one. "Ah. Sorry."

Click to shrink...

IS there nothing she can do about it?

how are clans made?