ATM II RPG - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Diamond18 · 05-20-2006, 12:53 PM

Skittles got sidetracked on her way to her quarters by a procession of large cats singing in six part harmony.

Not really.

She reached the room that had been provided to her upon her arrival at the Mount Doom Palace and Casino and threw open her trunk. She had to dig through several layers of silk and taffeta to reach the pleather and spandex, but dug right past those cheap imitations to get to the real thing at the bottom. She pulled out a black catsuit and smiled.

When she left her room, she was a different woman. Sort of. She was still ten feet away from sane, but instead of skipping or waltzing along, she lurked from corner to corner. Like a cat, only on two feet. Most of the time, anyway; sometimes she crawled, but only when she really felt like it.

She met a few hapless orcs along the way, whom she had to silence lest they talked. Talked to whom, about what, no one besides Skittles really knows, but she felt that this was of the utmost importance. A quick snick of the switchblade and they went down before even knowing what had sliced them.

She sidestepped a trail of fingers rolling down the hallway and reentered the negotiation room unseen and unheard by all. (In truth, everyone saw her, but no one really cared.)

Gliding like liquid oil, she sidled up to Dracomir and said in a low, menacing voice, “Do you feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?”

He turned slowly and looked at her as if she had sprouted an extra head, so she reached up to feel her neck and shoulders, just to make sure. Nope, she thought, somewhat disappointed. Still just the one.

05-20-2006, 12:53 PM	#10
Diamond18 Eidolon of a Took Join Date: Sep 2002 Location: my own private fantasy world Posts: 3,460	Skittles got sidetracked on her way to her quarters by a procession of large cats singing in six part harmony. Not really. She reached the room that had been provided to her upon her arrival at the Mount Doom Palace and Casino and threw open her trunk. She had to dig through several layers of silk and taffeta to reach the pleather and spandex, but dug right past those cheap imitations to get to the real thing at the bottom. She pulled out a black catsuit and smiled. When she left her room, she was a different woman. Sort of. She was still ten feet away from sane, but instead of skipping or waltzing along, she lurked from corner to corner. Like a cat, only on two feet. Most of the time, anyway; sometimes she crawled, but only when she really felt like it. She met a few hapless orcs along the way, whom she had to silence lest they talked. Talked to whom, about what, no one besides Skittles really knows, but she felt that this was of the utmost importance. A quick snick of the switchblade and they went down before even knowing what had sliced them. She sidestepped a trail of fingers rolling down the hallway and reentered the negotiation room unseen and unheard by all. (In truth, everyone saw her, but no one really cared.) Gliding like liquid oil, she sidled up to Dracomir and said in a low, menacing voice, “Do you feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?” He turned slowly and looked at her as if she had sprouted an extra head, so she reached up to feel her neck and shoulders, just to make sure. Nope, she thought, somewhat disappointed. Still just the one.