[Cora Casanova][Level 2]
[Str:5+3(SP)]
[Dex:8+3(SP]
[End:5+3(SP)+30(MA)]
[Vit:8+3(SP)+20(Nanostitch)]
[Agi: 8+3(SP)]
[Int:9+3(SP)]
[Will:30+3(SP)]
[Cha:30+50(Aphrodisia Glands {seduction dependent})]
[Skills: {Star Power}, {Method Actor}, {Stat Focus: [Cha]},{Firearm proficiency}, {Hand to Hand Proficiency}, {Handgun Mastery II}, {CQC Mastery I}, {Performance Mastery- Ascendant}]
[Titles: [Unbreakable], [Money Maker], [Best Actress]
[Stat Points:0]
[Skill Points:0]
Oh dope, got one for that level too, Cora noted, satisfied to see the +2 behind all of her stats now had evolved to a +3.
Still, that was a little anti-climactic. All told, that represented a significant boost in stat points, but she really didn’t feel any different. Not like when she’d activated {Method Actor}, and had more than tripled her [End]. Even that had been relatively subtle, although she thought that might be due to the nature of the stat. What did being more durable look like when you were just walking around? Maybe when it came time to go to bed tonight, she wouldn’t be tired. She hoped not. Not being able to sleep would remove the hope that she’d wake up back in the Hollywood hills.
I wonder what all the stats feel like, boosted like that. I’m a little surprised I don’t really notice the strength increase, I’m nearly twice as strong as I should be baseline. Would I immediately feel like Einstein with a boosted [Int]? Shit, based on what seem to be the ‘natural’ ranges for humanity, would I be smarter? That feels wrong, but no way to know without trying. Maybe when I have a few calm days. And a house that isn’t full of people that are on the fence about killing me. And aren’t finding my picture like a Wanted poster on people I’ve just fucking murdered.
Cora sighed, realizing that as long as she was wishing for things, she might as well wish for blowjob from god, if only really to get him close enough to punch him for fucking her so hard.
Hawk shook her back to reality.
“Thinkin’ too much, boss lady,” the big girl explained, to Cora’s tired smile. “Allllways gets a body down. Gotta live in the moment! Might be your last!”
Hawk’s dangerous smile sent a chill down Cora’s spine, though that chill ended up feeling pretty warm where it ended its journey.
Compared to my last girlfriend, is it weird that more-or-less blatant death threats are kind of refreshing?
“By my count, I took down more dudes than you in that fight,” Cora responded, knowing from experience that the only way to deal with someone like Hawk was to submit completely, or come back just as hard, harder if you could. It helped that Hawk seemed to be the type of bully that kind of liked it when you did push back. Her smile took on an even harder edge, matching the steel that had entered Cora’s “All I’m saying is, lotta last moments going around today, and you aren’t the only bitch handing them out.”
Hawk threw her head back, massive black and crimson mane shaking with laughter as she bellowed it into the sky. She pulled Cora tight, tight enough her back cracked a little, so it was as uncomfortable as it was comforting, then rubbed her shoulder genially.
“Oh man, Linnea,” She chuckled, once her mirth had died down. “You make it through the next few days? You and I are gonna get along juuuuust fine.”
“Yeah?” Cora said, laughing a little as well. She wasn’t sure why. “Bold of you to think any of us make it through the next few days. Looks like there’s a target on my back that half the city is gunning for, and those same assholes are the reason you ended up in my house in the first place.”
Hawk’s face darkened. Not like a raincloud, that would imply that it was gradual. No, Hawk’s moods shifted like lightning strikes. She went from telling you straight up she’d kill you, to laughing alongside you, to brooding rage, all in the space of seconds, with no transition between any of them.
“Yeah…..” she growled, a sound Cora felt vibrate from Hawk’s chest to her own. Her enormous hand tightened around Cora’s deltoid so hard its knuckles cracked, but for once, Cora could tell the woman’s wrath wasn’t directed at her. Not that it would have mattered, without Cadey’s [End], that definitely would have bruised. “Thanks for the reminder, sweet thing. ‘Nother point in your favor, that is. Those ratfucks keep sending goons your way, that just makes it easier for me to get even. You know how I get even, Linnea?”
“Violently?” Cora guessed, and Hawk was back to laughing, before shifting instantly back to fury. Her fingers stroked half possessively/half regretfully over Cora’s shoulder. Maybe she’d thought she’d hurt her, but right now, Cora was probably the toughest human on the planet.
“I get even with Finality, Linnea,” Hawk declared, voice a low, dangerous purr, like she was savoring each word as it left her mouth. “I’ll be even when every motherfucker that’s ever been a Link in the Chains is dead and fucking broken.”
“Given them just taking a run at me, and what I’m gathering about their whole steeze, I’m with you there. Always nice when life throws some unambiguous villains at you,” Cora agreed.
“Hah! Time was, you woulda said the same about me, I wager,” Hawk laughed. To be fair, it was something that had been niggling at the back of Cora’s brain. Hawk might have been a victim when they’d met, but her history of victimization was something she wore like a badge of pride. It also wasn’t something Cora had the luxury of worrying about right now.
They turned a street corner, and Cora nearly ran straight into Iain. He’d stopped at the end of the block, looking down the street at where it ended, obstructed by a great gate and barricade.
On top of that barricade, two heavily armed men lazily watched Cora’s group. Far more imposing, however, was a towering figure in what could only be power armor.
“Right,” Iain said, gesturing down the street to the gates. “So, we’ve made it to the Bazaar. As ye can see, security is tight here. They’ll likely be takin’ our guns off us. Best. Fuckin. Behavior.” He threatened, eyes focused up and over Cora’s shoulder, directly on Hawk. The big woman rumbled a dissatisfied grunt that Cora felt more than heard.
“Hawk, I ken yer a dead hard bitch, but ye cannae handle Ingrid in that Legate armor. Ain’t nobody in Light’s Fall what can. Now say it with me, girl…
“Best fuckin’ behavior,” Hawk grumbled in unison with the soldier.
“Good!” Iain said brightly, “Mind, they’ll be doin’ the same to anyone what wants in the Bazaar that ain’t security themselves. Can’t say no one will try anything inside, but iff’n they do, t’won’t be with guns.”
He swept his gaze over Kyra and Cora, then all the way back up to Hawk.
“Mayhap we should hope they do try somethin’, might be a bit of fun fer yer big arse, eh?” He laughed, clapping Hawk on the flank. Cora felt her tense, but the ease with which Iain had dispatched her this morning must have stuck with her; as he turned, leading them towards the gate, Hawk did nothing but follow.
The scale of what Iain had called ‘Legate Armor’ only seemed to increase as they approached the gate. As much as Hawk fucked with Cora’s perception of what size people should be, either this armor was more like a mobile suit, or the person in it was a true giant.
“Alright, Ingrid?” Iain called as they approached. He sounded a little excited, actually.
“Alright, Iain,” Ingrid responded, voice deepened and filtered through her helmet, but carrying the same brogue as Cora’s companion. “That Linnea with ya’s?”
“Aye, that it is,” Iain replied, stopping just in front of the metal behemoth. His head was about level with her shiny chrome hips. “The Thorny Rose of House Light deigns ter show her face.”
Iain, and really a lot of the ‘staff’, had a true gift for delivering statements that were flattering in form, but still managed to absolutely drip sarcasm.
“Aye, she does at that,” Ingrid boomed. “Suppose ye’ll be for the Pens, then? Full near to bursting these days, with The Chains.”
Iain looked nervously back towards Cora, a miniscule shake of his head calling her off.
“Nay, nothin’ so enterprisin’, simple supply run,” he answered.
“That so…” Ingrid rumbled, and Cora could feel the red eyes of her suit scanning over them. Probably literally, Cora realized. “What’s with the merchandise, then?”
It took Cora a second to realize she meant Tinny, and….
Fuck, still never got her name.
“Advertisin’” Iain said, without missing a beat. “Strong back there on Berg, and Tinny’s one of the prettiest little things we got in the house. Gotta remind people there’s quality laborers to be had in Light’s Fall, despite the detritus The Chains like to pack into the Pens.”
“Fair enough,” Ingrid shrugged, a motion like an earthquake with her frame. “Not any business of mine anyway, not so long as they don’t have any guns under them skirts. Scan says they don’t, so we can skip the strip search ‘till you find an interested party. The rest of ya’s though….”
She extended a palm, curling her fingers in the universal gesture for ‘gimme’.
Iain placed his assault rifle, along with a handgun Cora hadn’t realized he had, into it. They looked like toys, in that massive hand.
Cora followed suit, and with a grunt that sounded more like a whimper, Hawk gave up Bertha.
Ingrid stomped them over to a group of lockers set into the barricade, keyed one open, and set the guns inside. She turned back, dusting her hands off with titanic clangs, and gestured up to the men on the gate.
“They’re clean, boys, open up!”