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tampered2007-03-16 06:12 pm
kendogrl.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-03-16 06:12 pm
(no subject)
When; March 16th, afternoon
Rating; PG-13ish
Characters; Zaheela [![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
henkonasuisho ] & Motoko [kendogrl ]
Summary; Zaheela finally confronts demon!Motoko.Kinda short because Mendaa's a lover, not a fighter XP. A note for everyone left, please have your character comment about being taken and let free if you were left on the list. Also, if you wanted to go after her and have your charrie toyed with and beat down, feel free. Thank~! Cut lyrics by Nightwish :3
Log;
Sitting in a tree was about all the demon could manage right now. That small, green creature had done something to her. She didn’t know what. But ever since, Motoko had been fighting back when she should be completely pacified. She had tried to have more fun, but it hadn’t been quite as rewarding, since it was too much of a hassle to keep control. Though the fact that Motoko kept flashing out bits of power was a bit annoying. It had been nearly 20 minutes since the last surge she had managed, and she had hell to pay for it. Every bad memory, all the people she had tortured over the past few days were flashed through Motoko’s mind. It seemed she was down again.
It didn’t worry her. Though she was well aware that the surges were supposed to be signals, to give away her location, she didn’t care. She had done just about everything fun she could think of, and decided it was time to torture her host some more. A fight would be a welcome break, and having her body ripped up would be satisfying. And if she died, it didn’t matter. She’d just be back in another day to continue. She drew Motoko’s blade, letting the sunlight glint off of the blade. It lacked blood. She would have to change that.
Somewhere in the treetops, someone watched. Her armor shone ebony in the darkness, her eyes the color of wine. Silently, Zaheela tracked, followed, hunted out her prey. It was hard, knowing the choice she had made, to kill one she kept dear, but it was one she had to do. To kill the demon, to kill Mokoto, she would do just that. Her hand moved soundlessly to the quiver by her side and drew a wickedly barbed arrow. The great bow was light in her hands and she drew the arrow back, eyes focused.
She would not regret letting that arrow go.
The intention to kill, such a delicious emotion, and it flooded her senses for a moment, just a brief enough moment to leap to her feet, sword reflecting the arrow harmlessly into the branch she perched on. She didn’t even need to locate the one there, for she already knew who would be there. She had hoped it would be her too. What better way to torture the both of them than to have her die and the hands of a close friend? “Come to play, kitten?” boomed through the forest, followed by a chuckle. She slipped off of the branch she was on, landing gracefully at the foot of the tree, sword pointed lazily at the ground. “Then let’s play.”
Zaheela only wordlessly drew her Algol from it's holder, the large blade 'snarling' as the demonic dog within howled it's delight. Without a word, her legs flexed and she darted forward. Her eyes were hard, focused, and enraged. Zaheela's stance was firm, her blade knew no mercy. Demon had called demon, it seemed, there was little space for theatrics.
“I do what was asked of me Mouse.” She hissed, eyes narrowed even more as metal sliced air, aimed to tear open skin.
She lifted her blade, blocking the attack, holding the blades together, spinning until she was standing next to Zaheela, and whispered, “you’ll have to try harder than that.” The cat would have to feed her more emotions, and they’d both bleed before this battle was done. She let her free hand come up to stroke her cheek, taunting her, letting out a vicious cackle. “Come kitten, don’t bore me!”
The blow was parried, and Zaheela frowned as she let the hand stroke her face before slapping the hand away and leaning away, sword clanging against Mokoto's. Her left hand darted forward, knifed to jam itself into the girl's side suddenly.
“Aren't we going to play?” She snarled, eyes still focused on the demon.
Motoko jumped to the side, but the blow still connected. She grinned at the pain, standing with her blade touching the ground again. “I had hoped so. What’s wrong, don’t want to kill this body?” She faked a yawn, cocking her head to the side, shifting her weight onto one leg. “Really now, I only play with things that are entertaining. I had liked you better at my feet, begging for release.”
If the jest was meant to irritate her, she had failed. Zaheela just looked impassively at the blood gathered on her fingers before gripping the great sword in her hands once again and circling Mokoto before darting in for a strike. The smell of blood awakened something in her and she began to release a bone chilling energy. Eyes narrowed and she swung her blade, aiming for the stomach and the injured side.
Dancing around the strike the demon drug her blade off the ground and up at Zaheela, scattering dust in the wake of the strike and disappearing into the shade of a tree in the process. “Come kitten, come and slay me,” her voice echoed through the forest, her aura settling to the point that it was spread evenly around them. Coming at her from the other side, she shouted, “Zantetsusen!” A spiral of energy come from her blade as she swung, tapping into her host’s expertise in ki attacks.
A beastly snarl escaped her throat before the grip on her algol tightened and her left hand shifted backwards. Fire danced along the etching of her blade and with a swing, she launched a counter attack, the demonic fire clashing with the energy of the spiral. The explosion shoved both of them back and Zaheela dug her feet into the ground to stop her movement, only to push off once again and attack, blade glowing red.
She laughed. “Good, good! Entertain me!” She ducked low to the ground and snapped forward, feinting an attack and spinning behind her opponent, letting her blade slide across her cheek. Just enough to draw blood. Just enough to taunt her even more. She then turned, admiring the small red that had collected on her sword. “Bleed for me, kitten!” she cackled, completely absorbed in the thrill of the pain and suffering she had already caused and would undoubtedly cause from this fight.
Her eye had twitched when she felt blade part skin. The blood dribbled down the side of her face, luckily low enough to ignore completely. She didn't mind the pain, she THRIVED in it. The next slice at her was blocked and the sword shoved away , Her blade blurred and crimson blossomed across Mokoto's cheek, mimicking the one she now sported.
“Bleed yourself, Mouse.” She purred, a grin on her face, the blood burning off her blade with hardly a thought.
The demon flipped back and took the time to slide her fingers over the wound, licking the blood off her fingers. “I don’t bleed, the girl does.” She smiled, shouting “Kakusan Zankousen!” and used the flash of ki as both an attack and to cover her, dashing forward and bringing a slash aimed at Zaheela’s throat.
“You, she, two are one. She bleeds, YOU bleed.” Zaheela retorted before reacting to the surge of Ki with an upward swing, fire following in it's path, only to hastily bring it back down to block the attempt to slice off her head. The deadlock struggled for a moment before her hand darted to the pack hidden under her cape and drew out her death scythe, thrusting it oddly and then tugging the blade backward. Letting go of her Algol, she let her momentum attempt to scissor the demon in half, her own aura rising to meet the increase of energy.
Rather than trying to dodge, the demon pushed forward, stepping past the discarded weapon and sliced her blade again. She was crazy enough to allow herself to be sliced in half just to kill her opponent, not caring about the death of her body. “I feel Motoko’s pain, it’s quite nice. But I myself feel nothing but pure ecstasy. Are you sure this is what you want, kitten?” And at the last second, just before allowing herself to be finished, she lept up into the air, releasing a line of ki straight at Zaheela from above, shouting, “Hyakkaryouran!”
Swinging the scythe into a arc, like some sort of deadly baton, she braced herself for the blow. Power sliced at her arms, her face, blood splattering to the ground, but she merely dug her feet deeper into the ground. The power died, with the demon still in the air, but on Zaheela's face was a smile. Licking her lips, she stopped whispering.
”Absorb... AGI” And the darkness streaked forward to wrap around Mokoto's legs, tearing muscle strength and flexibility, only to grant it to her own. Swinging her scythe so that the giant blade touched the ground, she waited for the demon to fall close before slamming her hand into the lower part of her blade's staff, the scythe twirling around her right hand, blade aimed to impale.
That was unexpected, but welcome. To feel her body weaken would be a feeling Motoko would feel and distress over. To her, it didn’t matter. She spun her body to avoid the blade, catching herself on the ground awkwardly and dashing, finding herself rather cornered as her back slammed into a tree. That was inconvenient. It seemed she had been enjoying the bloodlust too much and wasn’t paying enough attention to her surroundings. But it didn’t matter. Fighting wasn’t nearly as much fun as tormenting her host, and she felt she’d have a great opportunity to do so soon. “Impressive, kitten,” she taunted, even knowing that she had lost the battle.
With barely a bat of the eyelid, Zaheela merely leapt into the air, body twisted slightly and scythe slightly upwards. She dove for the kill, blade ready to rend, tear, and cut through thin skin.
Motoko stood and smiled, taking the blade and cutting down the length of Zaheela’s arm, armor falling off onto the ground and revealing a deep long gash from her wrist to her shoulder. Her smile stayed as the scythe met its target, unable to dodge after taking the opportunity to strike. She coughed up blood as she began to laugh, waiting for the opportune moment to torture her host once more before her demise.
A Snarl as the blade bit deep into her arm. Pain flared, her armor damaged, and Zaheela growled using the staff of her scythe to slam into Mokoto's throat, pressing her into the tree. She ignored the screaming pain, the anger flooding as her aura pulsed and increased, a red glow signifying the activation of her Last resort move. She pressed harder, aiming to crush the bones of the woman's neck.
“SQUIRM MOUSE!” She roared, arm twitching as the shifting of muscles allowed more blood to bleed. “You'll have to pay for your deed, and you are ever so cornered.”
She spat blood onto the girl now pinning her to the tree, taking on last slash at her, burying her blade into Zaheela’s side. And then her body started to suffer from the lack of oxygen, and she dropped her arm, leaving the blade in her side, wanting to stay alive for as much pain as possible. “Then punish me, kitten.”
The blade bit into her side, drawing even more blood, and her temper snapped. With her injured hand, she clawed at the small pendant hanging from the chain. With a tug, the trinket came free and she let the limiter fall from her hand to the ground before it disappeared into the satchel.
“Let me tell you a secret Mouse. Dark knights may use heavy weapons... but we aren't limited to them.” She hissed into the girl's ear before drawing a thin dagger and jamming it into the woman's shoulder, her strength easily shoving steel through bone. The now pinned arm dribbled blood. A moment to pray that Mokoto had taken her advice and let the demon take completely over, she let the bloodlust take completely over.
“We are, more accurately, weapon masters.” She purred, taking a moment to use her now free hand to pin the other shoulder to the tree as well.
Still smiling, she spat again. “Please, don’t lecture me, that would be more torture than anything I did to those girls.” She felt the blades piercing into the fragile human skin of her host, not even attempting to block it with her aura. No, that wouldn’t be any fun. The pain, she wanted it, wanted more, wanted it until it would be unbearable for a human. “Just end me now, kitten. Before I grow bored and break free.”
Zaheela's eyebrow rose before shaking her head.
“Break free? Hardly... after all, how can you when you have no blood?” She questioned, before her eyes flashed an unnatural gold for a mere moment, but a definitive one. Another dagger drawn and impaled under the ribs, only this time, the blood did not flow downwards. No, it floated into the air and transformed into raw energy, seeping in Zaheela's veins.
“Ever hear of blood weapon?” She inquired as another dagger found it's home. “Lovely trick we have.” She had 26 daggers, all thin and sharp, two for each victim. All 26 would find their home in Mokoto's body.
“Tell me, mouse, what will convince you to leave Mokoto's body?” She asked, voice laced with the hidden threat.
“More than this, I can assure you,” she replied, voice filled with the joy associated with the pain. How she’d gotten into this body she wasn’t quite sure, she had been sealed into that sword quite well, but now that she was here, in this perfect vessel, she wasn’t about to leave. “Maybe you should break her more and see if I fall out.”
A dangerous growl escaped Zaheela's throat. A dagger, a bolt of lightning, each one specifically placed not to kill. More blood was drained into her own being, her wounds healing. After the 25thdagger, however, she noted how strained the demon's face was and smirked. One more shove, a gamble. If Mokoto didn't pull out then...
“Pity that this is my last dagger before we go onto much LONGER blades.” Zaheela hissed, eyes still dangerous. Her armor was damaged still, but her skin was flawless under the smudges of blood.
“Leave my dear sister be, mouse.” She warned, voice tempered with steel
And it appeared she was buying the bait. She wanted to laugh, to show how much she was enjoying the show, but she couldn’t, not if she was going to have her dear Motoko killed off here. She wanted to see the look in Zaheela’s eyes as she stabbed into her sister, realizing that the demon had fled to back of Motoko’s mind. Waiting for Motoko to wake, more broken than ever before, unable to resist completely again. “Then you’ll have to use them.”
“A utmost pleasure, mouse... but first... the last of these daggers, hm?” A thrust, and the dagger found it's home in the girl's side. Her eyes did not widen or look pained as the smile turned into a grimace and eyes returned back to normal. Lady luck was on her side it seemed. A hard rap knocked Mokoto out before the pain could register in the girl's brain and Zaheela quickly went to work. With surgeon like skill, each dagger was slipped out it's resting place as quickly as possible and the two longer dirks that had held the girl up were wrenched out with a sickening squelch. She frowned at the sluggish rate the blood was seeping out. She had drained too much blood.
Shoving a small blue pill into the girl's mouth, she encouraged the swallowing reflex, tearing her own clothes for makeshift bandages. The healing infusion was not strong enough to heal everything, nowhere close, but at least it would stabilize the girl. Reaching under her shoulder guards, she snapped something and the outermost metal layers fell to the ground with a THUD, only to be shoved into the satchel, tucked away harmlessly in the dimensional pocket. The scythe, Mokoto's Katana, and great sword also disappeared into the mysterious void. As gently as she could, Zaheela moved Mokoto onto her back, a difficult feat considering how much taller the other woman was compared to the mithra, and she took off running, leaving the daggers behind.
Rating; PG-13ish
Characters; Zaheela [
henkonasuisho ] & Motoko [kendogrl ]Summary; Zaheela finally confronts demon!Motoko.
Log;
Sitting in a tree was about all the demon could manage right now. That small, green creature had done something to her. She didn’t know what. But ever since, Motoko had been fighting back when she should be completely pacified. She had tried to have more fun, but it hadn’t been quite as rewarding, since it was too much of a hassle to keep control. Though the fact that Motoko kept flashing out bits of power was a bit annoying. It had been nearly 20 minutes since the last surge she had managed, and she had hell to pay for it. Every bad memory, all the people she had tortured over the past few days were flashed through Motoko’s mind. It seemed she was down again.
It didn’t worry her. Though she was well aware that the surges were supposed to be signals, to give away her location, she didn’t care. She had done just about everything fun she could think of, and decided it was time to torture her host some more. A fight would be a welcome break, and having her body ripped up would be satisfying. And if she died, it didn’t matter. She’d just be back in another day to continue. She drew Motoko’s blade, letting the sunlight glint off of the blade. It lacked blood. She would have to change that.
Somewhere in the treetops, someone watched. Her armor shone ebony in the darkness, her eyes the color of wine. Silently, Zaheela tracked, followed, hunted out her prey. It was hard, knowing the choice she had made, to kill one she kept dear, but it was one she had to do. To kill the demon, to kill Mokoto, she would do just that. Her hand moved soundlessly to the quiver by her side and drew a wickedly barbed arrow. The great bow was light in her hands and she drew the arrow back, eyes focused.
She would not regret letting that arrow go.
The intention to kill, such a delicious emotion, and it flooded her senses for a moment, just a brief enough moment to leap to her feet, sword reflecting the arrow harmlessly into the branch she perched on. She didn’t even need to locate the one there, for she already knew who would be there. She had hoped it would be her too. What better way to torture the both of them than to have her die and the hands of a close friend? “Come to play, kitten?” boomed through the forest, followed by a chuckle. She slipped off of the branch she was on, landing gracefully at the foot of the tree, sword pointed lazily at the ground. “Then let’s play.”
Zaheela only wordlessly drew her Algol from it's holder, the large blade 'snarling' as the demonic dog within howled it's delight. Without a word, her legs flexed and she darted forward. Her eyes were hard, focused, and enraged. Zaheela's stance was firm, her blade knew no mercy. Demon had called demon, it seemed, there was little space for theatrics.
“I do what was asked of me Mouse.” She hissed, eyes narrowed even more as metal sliced air, aimed to tear open skin.
She lifted her blade, blocking the attack, holding the blades together, spinning until she was standing next to Zaheela, and whispered, “you’ll have to try harder than that.” The cat would have to feed her more emotions, and they’d both bleed before this battle was done. She let her free hand come up to stroke her cheek, taunting her, letting out a vicious cackle. “Come kitten, don’t bore me!”
The blow was parried, and Zaheela frowned as she let the hand stroke her face before slapping the hand away and leaning away, sword clanging against Mokoto's. Her left hand darted forward, knifed to jam itself into the girl's side suddenly.
“Aren't we going to play?” She snarled, eyes still focused on the demon.
Motoko jumped to the side, but the blow still connected. She grinned at the pain, standing with her blade touching the ground again. “I had hoped so. What’s wrong, don’t want to kill this body?” She faked a yawn, cocking her head to the side, shifting her weight onto one leg. “Really now, I only play with things that are entertaining. I had liked you better at my feet, begging for release.”
If the jest was meant to irritate her, she had failed. Zaheela just looked impassively at the blood gathered on her fingers before gripping the great sword in her hands once again and circling Mokoto before darting in for a strike. The smell of blood awakened something in her and she began to release a bone chilling energy. Eyes narrowed and she swung her blade, aiming for the stomach and the injured side.
Dancing around the strike the demon drug her blade off the ground and up at Zaheela, scattering dust in the wake of the strike and disappearing into the shade of a tree in the process. “Come kitten, come and slay me,” her voice echoed through the forest, her aura settling to the point that it was spread evenly around them. Coming at her from the other side, she shouted, “Zantetsusen!” A spiral of energy come from her blade as she swung, tapping into her host’s expertise in ki attacks.
A beastly snarl escaped her throat before the grip on her algol tightened and her left hand shifted backwards. Fire danced along the etching of her blade and with a swing, she launched a counter attack, the demonic fire clashing with the energy of the spiral. The explosion shoved both of them back and Zaheela dug her feet into the ground to stop her movement, only to push off once again and attack, blade glowing red.
She laughed. “Good, good! Entertain me!” She ducked low to the ground and snapped forward, feinting an attack and spinning behind her opponent, letting her blade slide across her cheek. Just enough to draw blood. Just enough to taunt her even more. She then turned, admiring the small red that had collected on her sword. “Bleed for me, kitten!” she cackled, completely absorbed in the thrill of the pain and suffering she had already caused and would undoubtedly cause from this fight.
Her eye had twitched when she felt blade part skin. The blood dribbled down the side of her face, luckily low enough to ignore completely. She didn't mind the pain, she THRIVED in it. The next slice at her was blocked and the sword shoved away , Her blade blurred and crimson blossomed across Mokoto's cheek, mimicking the one she now sported.
“Bleed yourself, Mouse.” She purred, a grin on her face, the blood burning off her blade with hardly a thought.
The demon flipped back and took the time to slide her fingers over the wound, licking the blood off her fingers. “I don’t bleed, the girl does.” She smiled, shouting “Kakusan Zankousen!” and used the flash of ki as both an attack and to cover her, dashing forward and bringing a slash aimed at Zaheela’s throat.
“You, she, two are one. She bleeds, YOU bleed.” Zaheela retorted before reacting to the surge of Ki with an upward swing, fire following in it's path, only to hastily bring it back down to block the attempt to slice off her head. The deadlock struggled for a moment before her hand darted to the pack hidden under her cape and drew out her death scythe, thrusting it oddly and then tugging the blade backward. Letting go of her Algol, she let her momentum attempt to scissor the demon in half, her own aura rising to meet the increase of energy.
Rather than trying to dodge, the demon pushed forward, stepping past the discarded weapon and sliced her blade again. She was crazy enough to allow herself to be sliced in half just to kill her opponent, not caring about the death of her body. “I feel Motoko’s pain, it’s quite nice. But I myself feel nothing but pure ecstasy. Are you sure this is what you want, kitten?” And at the last second, just before allowing herself to be finished, she lept up into the air, releasing a line of ki straight at Zaheela from above, shouting, “Hyakkaryouran!”
Swinging the scythe into a arc, like some sort of deadly baton, she braced herself for the blow. Power sliced at her arms, her face, blood splattering to the ground, but she merely dug her feet deeper into the ground. The power died, with the demon still in the air, but on Zaheela's face was a smile. Licking her lips, she stopped whispering.
”Absorb... AGI” And the darkness streaked forward to wrap around Mokoto's legs, tearing muscle strength and flexibility, only to grant it to her own. Swinging her scythe so that the giant blade touched the ground, she waited for the demon to fall close before slamming her hand into the lower part of her blade's staff, the scythe twirling around her right hand, blade aimed to impale.
That was unexpected, but welcome. To feel her body weaken would be a feeling Motoko would feel and distress over. To her, it didn’t matter. She spun her body to avoid the blade, catching herself on the ground awkwardly and dashing, finding herself rather cornered as her back slammed into a tree. That was inconvenient. It seemed she had been enjoying the bloodlust too much and wasn’t paying enough attention to her surroundings. But it didn’t matter. Fighting wasn’t nearly as much fun as tormenting her host, and she felt she’d have a great opportunity to do so soon. “Impressive, kitten,” she taunted, even knowing that she had lost the battle.
With barely a bat of the eyelid, Zaheela merely leapt into the air, body twisted slightly and scythe slightly upwards. She dove for the kill, blade ready to rend, tear, and cut through thin skin.
Motoko stood and smiled, taking the blade and cutting down the length of Zaheela’s arm, armor falling off onto the ground and revealing a deep long gash from her wrist to her shoulder. Her smile stayed as the scythe met its target, unable to dodge after taking the opportunity to strike. She coughed up blood as she began to laugh, waiting for the opportune moment to torture her host once more before her demise.
A Snarl as the blade bit deep into her arm. Pain flared, her armor damaged, and Zaheela growled using the staff of her scythe to slam into Mokoto's throat, pressing her into the tree. She ignored the screaming pain, the anger flooding as her aura pulsed and increased, a red glow signifying the activation of her Last resort move. She pressed harder, aiming to crush the bones of the woman's neck.
“SQUIRM MOUSE!” She roared, arm twitching as the shifting of muscles allowed more blood to bleed. “You'll have to pay for your deed, and you are ever so cornered.”
She spat blood onto the girl now pinning her to the tree, taking on last slash at her, burying her blade into Zaheela’s side. And then her body started to suffer from the lack of oxygen, and she dropped her arm, leaving the blade in her side, wanting to stay alive for as much pain as possible. “Then punish me, kitten.”
The blade bit into her side, drawing even more blood, and her temper snapped. With her injured hand, she clawed at the small pendant hanging from the chain. With a tug, the trinket came free and she let the limiter fall from her hand to the ground before it disappeared into the satchel.
“Let me tell you a secret Mouse. Dark knights may use heavy weapons... but we aren't limited to them.” She hissed into the girl's ear before drawing a thin dagger and jamming it into the woman's shoulder, her strength easily shoving steel through bone. The now pinned arm dribbled blood. A moment to pray that Mokoto had taken her advice and let the demon take completely over, she let the bloodlust take completely over.
“We are, more accurately, weapon masters.” She purred, taking a moment to use her now free hand to pin the other shoulder to the tree as well.
Still smiling, she spat again. “Please, don’t lecture me, that would be more torture than anything I did to those girls.” She felt the blades piercing into the fragile human skin of her host, not even attempting to block it with her aura. No, that wouldn’t be any fun. The pain, she wanted it, wanted more, wanted it until it would be unbearable for a human. “Just end me now, kitten. Before I grow bored and break free.”
Zaheela's eyebrow rose before shaking her head.
“Break free? Hardly... after all, how can you when you have no blood?” She questioned, before her eyes flashed an unnatural gold for a mere moment, but a definitive one. Another dagger drawn and impaled under the ribs, only this time, the blood did not flow downwards. No, it floated into the air and transformed into raw energy, seeping in Zaheela's veins.
“Ever hear of blood weapon?” She inquired as another dagger found it's home. “Lovely trick we have.” She had 26 daggers, all thin and sharp, two for each victim. All 26 would find their home in Mokoto's body.
“Tell me, mouse, what will convince you to leave Mokoto's body?” She asked, voice laced with the hidden threat.
“More than this, I can assure you,” she replied, voice filled with the joy associated with the pain. How she’d gotten into this body she wasn’t quite sure, she had been sealed into that sword quite well, but now that she was here, in this perfect vessel, she wasn’t about to leave. “Maybe you should break her more and see if I fall out.”
A dangerous growl escaped Zaheela's throat. A dagger, a bolt of lightning, each one specifically placed not to kill. More blood was drained into her own being, her wounds healing. After the 25thdagger, however, she noted how strained the demon's face was and smirked. One more shove, a gamble. If Mokoto didn't pull out then...
“Pity that this is my last dagger before we go onto much LONGER blades.” Zaheela hissed, eyes still dangerous. Her armor was damaged still, but her skin was flawless under the smudges of blood.
“Leave my dear sister be, mouse.” She warned, voice tempered with steel
And it appeared she was buying the bait. She wanted to laugh, to show how much she was enjoying the show, but she couldn’t, not if she was going to have her dear Motoko killed off here. She wanted to see the look in Zaheela’s eyes as she stabbed into her sister, realizing that the demon had fled to back of Motoko’s mind. Waiting for Motoko to wake, more broken than ever before, unable to resist completely again. “Then you’ll have to use them.”
“A utmost pleasure, mouse... but first... the last of these daggers, hm?” A thrust, and the dagger found it's home in the girl's side. Her eyes did not widen or look pained as the smile turned into a grimace and eyes returned back to normal. Lady luck was on her side it seemed. A hard rap knocked Mokoto out before the pain could register in the girl's brain and Zaheela quickly went to work. With surgeon like skill, each dagger was slipped out it's resting place as quickly as possible and the two longer dirks that had held the girl up were wrenched out with a sickening squelch. She frowned at the sluggish rate the blood was seeping out. She had drained too much blood.
Shoving a small blue pill into the girl's mouth, she encouraged the swallowing reflex, tearing her own clothes for makeshift bandages. The healing infusion was not strong enough to heal everything, nowhere close, but at least it would stabilize the girl. Reaching under her shoulder guards, she snapped something and the outermost metal layers fell to the ground with a THUD, only to be shoved into the satchel, tucked away harmlessly in the dimensional pocket. The scythe, Mokoto's Katana, and great sword also disappeared into the mysterious void. As gently as she could, Zaheela moved Mokoto onto her back, a difficult feat considering how much taller the other woman was compared to the mithra, and she took off running, leaving the daggers behind.