Fast forward two minutes.
That's really all it took, as the spectacle was nothing more than one brute beating the shit out of another, give or take a few wayward laser bolts. Bodies covered the floor, the ceiling of the club looking reminiscent of the disarray her apartment was left in, and Rhailo was just standing there with her arms snaked over the swell of her chest to cover her upper half. Someone had struck the hunter in the club foray - that much she caught - though that was after he put an end to a great deal of the Roth Khanian guards. The corpse of her once meal ticket Jexisher Dynasty was a massive bulk on the lighted flooring, his weight caving the tiles directly beneath where he and the Mandalorian had made impact. The mound of male Roth Khanian stared back at the woman with half his head blown off, an eye socket vacant as it bore holes in the space between them.
Rhailo tensed more than she thought was possible as, inevitably, Demagol was finished cleaning up what security was within firing range of their location. Narrowed gaze sunk from the helmet to his crest, and then lower to the grazing where the Mandalorian had been shot, perhaps investigating the severity of the wound as quickly as she could before his attention was solely on the Auroun. His glance intimidated her; lost behind beskar embedded visor, but without a doubt, found solely on her figure. The male spoke her full name when the demand was made, which struck her as comical considering the options otherwise had thinned out greatly those active few moments she had been watching. Considering all the Auroun had just been witness to, her hesitation to follow direction was less noticeable. Quelled behind starlit features, her disobedience felt the significance of their situation more than it did the persuasion factor coaxing pressure from his tone.
Rhailo knew damn well what the Mandalorian's intentions were for her. Another day, another bounty. The anger attached to being categorized as just another job was there, but swallowed. Stifled for the pettiness of the thought, but also because she didn't associate herself with being a bounty. There had to be a way to shake that tagline. Now though, there simply wasn't time to permit much choice on her part. Another wave of security personnel began swarming the building, siren calls echoing in replacement of techno bass drops. As the crowd thinned around them, it was clear the pair actually couldn't stay put. Not without coverage of some kind. The Auroun let her arms drop to once more bare her breasts, suddenly over the semblance of modesty that escaped her previously.
"Where?" Her expression was as confused as could be expected. Oculars carefully sought to follow the Mandalorian's mannerisms as a replacement to having no face to judge, but his stillness was mechanical in nature. The suit didn't need to shift to adjust to better accommodate positioning. For all it's fancy tech and weaponry, it paled in comparison to real flesh, and Rhailo was left pitying Demagol in a strange regard. Coated in a form fitting suit, putting an end to countless lives for profit... What did he even hope to buy? Did one have time to shop when they were always combing the universe for bounties? The whole concept caused a knitting of the Auroun's brow, frown moving to overtake a visage too lovely for such unhappiness.
"You don't have to take me, you know. You could get away easier without having to drag me along." Already, long legs backed up towards the platform, though she didn't break the contact of her attention on his helmet. "Is my contract really worth it? You got Jexisher, and I know he had to be worth more than mine... So, can't that be enough?" Rhailo was halted when she hit the curved framework of the stage, and there was a moment when she waited, because she didn't have much juice left to make scarce. She would do one more thing - just one - and that was left as only the most desperate of game plans on her part. Certainly it didn't need to be now given how persistent Demagol seemed with her. He wanted her alive, that much the woman gleaned through the chase thus far, as it seemed illogical he hadn't put a shot through her if his intentions were otherwise. Wasn't she just baggage now?
Rhailo didn't want to be shot. To push more buttons when he was injured and in a hurry. Without a word, she was left like a deer in the headlights; watching him. Waiting on his plan of action. This ceased to be her show anymore, so the Auroun made it perfectly clear that he would need to lead the way, regardless what way he thought best to take them. All his captive could hope was he didn't honestly expect to escape with his jetpack- Not with the weather as it was. Not when he was within airstrike range of every surveying sentry cannon on the countless rooftops along the strip. Especially not with her in tow, because for one thing, Rhailo had no need nor desire to be whisked away in such a manner. It was already bad enough that her company loomed over her like an emotionless robot, ready to snuff out what made her unique just as quickly as he was to cart her along for his journey.
At some point while she waited, Rhailo stepped out of her heels, picking them up to hold them in a set of manicured digits. Wouldn't do well to lose her now singular pair of shoes. Thanks to him. Thanks to the bounty hunter. Not only had he chased her all evening with the objective of selling her existence to a cartel notorious for torturing, enslaving, and gruesomely deforming women, but he also ensured the creature had nothing in the way of belongings. No clothing, not mementos, no personal effects. Nothing. In essence, he had destroyed what had been known of Rhailo Destros, and she had nothing left to do with herself but hold onto the credit chits and shoes like they were her only lifeline to the outside world. Beneath the surface, fear wormed through her core, working to bind her stomach in knots.
Either Rhailo was going to die, or she was going to become a slave; neither of which she wanted.
That's really all it took, as the spectacle was nothing more than one brute beating the shit out of another, give or take a few wayward laser bolts. Bodies covered the floor, the ceiling of the club looking reminiscent of the disarray her apartment was left in, and Rhailo was just standing there with her arms snaked over the swell of her chest to cover her upper half. Someone had struck the hunter in the club foray - that much she caught - though that was after he put an end to a great deal of the Roth Khanian guards. The corpse of her once meal ticket Jexisher Dynasty was a massive bulk on the lighted flooring, his weight caving the tiles directly beneath where he and the Mandalorian had made impact. The mound of male Roth Khanian stared back at the woman with half his head blown off, an eye socket vacant as it bore holes in the space between them.
Rhailo tensed more than she thought was possible as, inevitably, Demagol was finished cleaning up what security was within firing range of their location. Narrowed gaze sunk from the helmet to his crest, and then lower to the grazing where the Mandalorian had been shot, perhaps investigating the severity of the wound as quickly as she could before his attention was solely on the Auroun. His glance intimidated her; lost behind beskar embedded visor, but without a doubt, found solely on her figure. The male spoke her full name when the demand was made, which struck her as comical considering the options otherwise had thinned out greatly those active few moments she had been watching. Considering all the Auroun had just been witness to, her hesitation to follow direction was less noticeable. Quelled behind starlit features, her disobedience felt the significance of their situation more than it did the persuasion factor coaxing pressure from his tone.
Rhailo knew damn well what the Mandalorian's intentions were for her. Another day, another bounty. The anger attached to being categorized as just another job was there, but swallowed. Stifled for the pettiness of the thought, but also because she didn't associate herself with being a bounty. There had to be a way to shake that tagline. Now though, there simply wasn't time to permit much choice on her part. Another wave of security personnel began swarming the building, siren calls echoing in replacement of techno bass drops. As the crowd thinned around them, it was clear the pair actually couldn't stay put. Not without coverage of some kind. The Auroun let her arms drop to once more bare her breasts, suddenly over the semblance of modesty that escaped her previously.
"Where?" Her expression was as confused as could be expected. Oculars carefully sought to follow the Mandalorian's mannerisms as a replacement to having no face to judge, but his stillness was mechanical in nature. The suit didn't need to shift to adjust to better accommodate positioning. For all it's fancy tech and weaponry, it paled in comparison to real flesh, and Rhailo was left pitying Demagol in a strange regard. Coated in a form fitting suit, putting an end to countless lives for profit... What did he even hope to buy? Did one have time to shop when they were always combing the universe for bounties? The whole concept caused a knitting of the Auroun's brow, frown moving to overtake a visage too lovely for such unhappiness.
"You don't have to take me, you know. You could get away easier without having to drag me along." Already, long legs backed up towards the platform, though she didn't break the contact of her attention on his helmet. "Is my contract really worth it? You got Jexisher, and I know he had to be worth more than mine... So, can't that be enough?" Rhailo was halted when she hit the curved framework of the stage, and there was a moment when she waited, because she didn't have much juice left to make scarce. She would do one more thing - just one - and that was left as only the most desperate of game plans on her part. Certainly it didn't need to be now given how persistent Demagol seemed with her. He wanted her alive, that much the woman gleaned through the chase thus far, as it seemed illogical he hadn't put a shot through her if his intentions were otherwise. Wasn't she just baggage now?
Rhailo didn't want to be shot. To push more buttons when he was injured and in a hurry. Without a word, she was left like a deer in the headlights; watching him. Waiting on his plan of action. This ceased to be her show anymore, so the Auroun made it perfectly clear that he would need to lead the way, regardless what way he thought best to take them. All his captive could hope was he didn't honestly expect to escape with his jetpack- Not with the weather as it was. Not when he was within airstrike range of every surveying sentry cannon on the countless rooftops along the strip. Especially not with her in tow, because for one thing, Rhailo had no need nor desire to be whisked away in such a manner. It was already bad enough that her company loomed over her like an emotionless robot, ready to snuff out what made her unique just as quickly as he was to cart her along for his journey.
At some point while she waited, Rhailo stepped out of her heels, picking them up to hold them in a set of manicured digits. Wouldn't do well to lose her now singular pair of shoes. Thanks to him. Thanks to the bounty hunter. Not only had he chased her all evening with the objective of selling her existence to a cartel notorious for torturing, enslaving, and gruesomely deforming women, but he also ensured the creature had nothing in the way of belongings. No clothing, not mementos, no personal effects. Nothing. In essence, he had destroyed what had been known of Rhailo Destros, and she had nothing left to do with herself but hold onto the credit chits and shoes like they were her only lifeline to the outside world. Beneath the surface, fear wormed through her core, working to bind her stomach in knots.
Either Rhailo was going to die, or she was going to become a slave; neither of which she wanted.
BDRP Admin. Writer. Villain. Personal Blog.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
The following 1 user Likes Kat's post: deific
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Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 04:27 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 04:30 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 04:38 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 04:40 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 04:41 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 04:42 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 04:44 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 04:46 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 04:47 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 04:49 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 04:50 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 04:52 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 04:52 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 04:54 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 04:55 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 04:56 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 04:58 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 04:59 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 05:00 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 05:01 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 05:02 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 05:03 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 05:03 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 05:04 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 05:05 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 05:07 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 05:07 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 05:09 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 05:10 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 05:13 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 05:13 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 05:15 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 05:17 AM