[Mercy Merchant]

Robyn stirs at ISaint's words.  She kneels on the bed and leans over the Ork, her bare breasts brushing against his chest and coming dangerously close to his mouth as she reaches over to pet the huge hound.  She talks to it and the Hell Hound moves down to curl up at the foot of the bed.  Still leaning over ISaint, Robyn says, "There, is that better?  By the way, you were making noises in your sleep.  Do you need to talk about anything?  Am I bothering you?  If so, I can go sleep in one of the chairs."

[Jack_Spade]

"Thanks. No. Not even if I were alone at home in my own bed I could prevent the memories and worries intruding on my dreams. But talking...
Let's just say I made mistakes in the past. Not mistakes exclusive made by me, but nonetheless mistakes that cost lives. In consequence I've hunted a few select monsters - partly as a penance and partly because my patron urged me to - that also left a few scars.
Being a light sleeper and a bit paranoid might be diagnosed as a form of PTSD, but on the whole it made me a more effective runner.
You have your own scars - both physically and psychically. You are very quick to open yourself up for intimacy, from my perspective you are in fact  weaponizing your sensuality and vulnerability. A bit like someone holding a live wire and waiting for someone grounded to touch you, frying you both.
But that isn't something unique to us: Our other companions all have their issues. I don't have to tell you about Al's quirks. Rick is... no, that's not something I should talk about. Karasu... I'm not making any headway in figuring her out, but if her interrogation methods are any indication, she has also a few... issues. Jackhammer is by far the most normal - if you ignore his anti social tendencies. And Iris... yeah, I'm not going there.
Suffice to say that I have problems with women and team mates I was meant to protect getting hurt or killed.
We came incredibly close to being captured. A few more drones or grenades... We had a lot of luck getting out of there. And now we are back in Below, ready to play Russian Roulette with to many bullets..."
Isaint closed his eyes. 'Damn it, you've done it again. You should build confidence in your team and not dissect their weaknesses. When will you learn to keep your mouth shut when you are sleep deprived.'
"Forget what I said. That was very unprofessional..."

#410

[Mercy Merchant]

Robyn chuckles a bit as she reaches for her robe and gets out of bed.  She moves to a small desk and taps a cigarette out of a pack laying there before lighting it.  She takes a few heavy drags before talking.  "Yes, I do open myself up to intimacy quite easily.  I do not really know where that all started and it would probably take years of expensive therapy to get it sorted.  I am comfortable in my body and have few inhibitions when it comes to sex, very few indeed.  I do not spend a lot of time trying to figure my companions out because I am usually wrong in my conclusions and it is just easier to go with the flow.  I would dearly love to figure Al out, but he does not let me get close to him.  We were almost, almost sharing a bed in a penthouse suite in Cambodia, but he left without saying anything and I have wondered why for eight years.  I said or did something that was so fundamentally wrong that he just left, but frag if I know what it was.  I am hoping to try to pick up where we left off, or at least get an answer, but my feet get all so bloody tangled up with my tongue when I try to talk to him."

She stubs the butt out in a silver ashtray and stands.  "But you do not need to be kept awake by my ramblings.  I will go out to the spare chair in the living room.  Try to get some rest."  Robyn walks to the door after taking a spare blanket from a cupboard and makes a small noise in her throat.  The Hell Hound immediately raises its massive head and jumps down from the foot of the bed to follow its mistress.  The two go out of the bedroom and walk to the vacant chair, where the woman sits down and the hound curls up at her feet as she folds the blanket around herself.

[Jack_Spade]

Isaint let himself fall back down on the bed again. Once again he had spoken without thinking about the consequences. With one hand he wafted away the smoke that had drifted to him. He really hated that filthy habit. But he had enough sense to at least shut up about that.
'Stop worrying about stuff like that. You should act like a leader - confident and calculated. Sympathy is secondary. Now back to sleep. You still need at least two more hours.'
The stern talking to he gave himself worked: Isaint closed his eyes and found himself back asleep within the minute.

[Mercy Merchant]

Robyn is fast asleep with a few minutes of settling into the comfortable chair, the warmth of the Hell Hound at her feet helping.  By morning, the blanket has fallen to her waist, allowing anyone awake to get a good view of her semi-open robe.  Although the tips of her breasts are not exposed, there is little left to the imagination.  Her sleep is undisturbed by dreams and she sleeps soundly, regaining her strength.

[adamu]

Al slept hard and dark for about an hour, then his eyes opened. He was still bone tired, but it only took a few seconds to know he'd never get another wink of sleep. Not with her here. Here in her place, for pity's sake.

He crawled out from behind the sofa and she was the first thing he saw, dead asleep on an armchair, usual modest self. He figured if angels were real, here was proof.

But then the Devil had angels too, right?

Seemed like everyone else was asleep in one room or another, although even with the ork's eyes slitted, he'd have guessed Jackhammer had one ear open for trouble, along with at least half of one eye - the guy was a born bodyguard. Probably could sleep like a dolphin - half his brain at a time.

He looked at Robyn again for a long time. This was the first calm moment he'd had since the initial meet. There'd been some time at that storage unit, but she'd been awake, everyone else had been around, and there'd been a lot of work to do.

Hell, there still was.

He got a rough leather bundle out of one of his bags - not exactly travelling light since they'd ditched his ride, but then he'd been feeling a lot more like himself over the past few weeks, and they load didn't seem as heavy as he'd expected - he took out the bundle and unrolled it on the kitchen table, revealing a neat array of microtronics tools held in place by hand-cut loops in the the bundle's rawhide interior. He sat down, took out his tag eraser and the various components of his microtransceiver set, and had a good look. Tossing the eraser in the bin. But he spent some time with the transceiver - having to look at his 'link to stay abreast of the team's comms was just too much of a liability in a crisis.

By the time anyone stirred, he was putting away his things, a pile of cigarette butts stubbed out in an ashtray he'd found.

[Mercy Merchant]

The massive Hell Hound at Robyn's feet seems to be the only thing that stirs when Al wakes up and moves about.  It lifts its head and watches Al with those two blood-red eyes, seeming to partially understand what the man was thinking.  The hound's eyes linger on the man as he stands looking down on his mistress, almost as if sharing some secret only the two of them would ever know about her.  Some sort of silent communication passes between the two and Al knows that the hound would die before letting Robyn get hurt.  The Hell Hound puts his head back don on its huge fore-paws and closes its eyes, accepting that Al also has her best interests in mind and will let nothing happen to her while he is on watch.

[DireRadiant]

[Yukika Karasu - Sunday July 5th, 2076; Somewhere Below, London][ #30

I eat.

I listen. I hear far too much that I do not wish to hear, but I cannot unlearn it.

I clean my clothes.

"Please I will set wards."

I meditate and set a circle of protection using supplies offered by the Sorceror. I shall remember my debt.

I watch. I Listen.

[Jack_Spade]

Isaint awoke with a moment of panic - not knowing where he was or how he'd gotten there. The memories came flooding back and he suppressed a groan. He tested the bruises on his chest - still tender, but they didn't hinder his range of motion or his breathing. Arthur's brutal massage had also prevented his muscles from seizing up. Quickly and quietly he began to dress himself. Two pairs of socks - the inner layer treated with anti-bacterial silver, the durable black trousers with extra large an comfortable pockets and the chemical protection coating, followed by his silk shirt. He stopped to retrieve the contact lenses and put them back into his eyes. Despite using them for years now, he still flinched once or twice. The hair thin trode-net  went easily through his short cropped hair. Activating it brought as usual a short moment of nausea until the contact stabilized.
He tested his Wild Hunt jacket and was relieved to note that it had dried out completely. Putting it on he immediately felt the auto-injector plate secure itself to the base of his neck. The thin gloves followed. Finally he secured the iron cestus on his arm and covered it with the jacket's sleeve. Finally he donned his boots, making sure the straps fit tight.

Now he began the tedious process of pocketing all his guns: One taser went to his ankle holster, the other on his belt. The Ruger was stashed in his shoulder holster, while the Guardian went into the camo holster on his right hand side. Isaint hopped a few times in one place to ensure that nothing chaffed or jingled.
Finally he picked up his pair of glasses and set them on his nose. His face still had the shape he had chosen before he went to bed, so he didn't bother to change.

Only after he had kitted himself out like that he left for the bathroom. With empty bladder and once more empty stomach he tip-toed into the kitchen, where he found Al packing away his repair kit.
Nodding at him, he went straight for the fridge and build himself a sandwich and filled a glass of milk.

"Everything quiet while I slept? It's almost as if all those malevolent forces were on holiday..."

[Mercy Merchant]

Voices wake Robyn and she access her house sensors to see where everyone is, as well as the outer drone sensors. Her robe is still gaping a bit as she moves to the kitchen and bends over at the refrigerator to remove some food that she then carries to the counters, where she begins preparing a morning meal.  "So, it will probably be a pretty normal English breakfast, this morning............eggs, bacon, sausage, and the like.  Hope no one minds terribly.  I do have real meat to add to it, though, so I do not think anyone will be too disappointed.  What are the plans for today?"  She cooks the breakfast while talking and soon the aromas of real coffee and real meat cooking fill the air inside the cottage.

[Jack_Spade]

"Thanks. Nothing better than to wake up to the smell of coffee.
Our plans are rather easy to describe: For the first part we'll sit down, eat, drink and figure out together how, where and when we can get our targets, where we can hold the ceremony and which witnesses we need to gather.

If I remember correctly, we need to contact three officials from the Houses to act as witnesses as well as a Guide of the Court of the Holy - whoever that might be - to perform the ceremony.
And of course which holy site we should pick.

If we have that, we can tackle the problem of getting the two lovebirds in place."

[DireRadiant]

[Yukika Karasu - Monday July 6th, 2076; Somewhere Below, London] #31

I meditate still. With the turning of the world I make my devotions to the Kami.

It sounds so simple assembling a crowd of people to perform a ceremony against their natures. As if they are pieces on a board. I could force it at the price of eternal shame for shaping such a sacred ceremony to my base desires. I seek a better challenge.

I listen so I can learn more of this group.

The coffee smells reasonably good.

[obidancer]

Massage, rest, food, more rest, shower, more food; that was a well deserved mind and body boost they were all getting. For those who could sleep, at least.

And Deckard could, without any worries of what could come at them or what was waiting for them in the next few days. He was the first to sleep and the first hour, after a surprisingly good massage by an androform drone, was probably the best he had in a week! He was only waken up by the smell of cooking, and what a feast. Robyn could skillfully mend a wound and a hungry stomach. Once ready everyone ate in a non awkward silent. What could have been awkward was the amount of food the thin mage was engulfing. He probably ate as much as twice-his-size Jackhammer and then some,  he even tried the German dish and seemed to appreciate it. Thinking of it, his companions could have notice he was often found snacking on something, chips, candies, lollipop, sandwich... and surprisingly his figured remained pretty slander...

He thanked Robyn and went back to resting a bit, waiting for his turn to shower. The hot water was rejuvenating and relaxing. He didn't stay long though, knowing the more sleep he could catch the better. Surely ISaint wanted someone on watch at anytime, but he felt pretty safe here, and was sure somebody else would be volunteering for it, or crazy/paranoid enough to take care of it. He walked back inside one of the bedroom to see what was available when he 'stumbled' upon Robyn and ISaint. He put a hand halfway across his face and apologetically dismissed his presence. Sorry! don't mind me, wrong room.

He never bother going to the other room. Out of courtesy and manners, the priestess should have had the room; and the couch was more than he needed. He put his clothes in the cleaning drone appliance and wearing the bear minimum, settled himself on the couch covered by a blanket. Next to him on the floor only laid his bag and his revolver.
It felt a bit strange knowing Al was right behind, but it took only a few second to ignore the thought and try to let the sleep settle, once, twice... he couldn't. Something else was disturbing him... He looked at Al realistic bust set on the chimney. He extended his hand with a rotation motion and the statue almost silently turned around to face the wall. 
Satisfied, he could now close his eyes and sleep came extremely fast.

Once again waken up by a delicious smell, he made his way to the kitchen, rolled into the blanket. He didn't mind not being the first to be awake and up, be seeing ISaint already in full gear reminded him, they still had a job to do, and though pretty vague, he should really get his mind into it... though his real concern right now was really to make sure no one would notice his morning boner...

'morning peeps.  He addressed almost everyone . 'morning soldier. he said when his gazed met ISaint's. Robyn, a couple more night like this and I may forget my prejudices about Below...
He grabbed a cup of coffee then head to the bathroom to wash his sleep away and get dressed in his freshly cleaned clothes. When he came back breakfast was made. How lovely... He kind of liked that team after all.

[Mercy Merchant]

Robyn is pleased that the team likes her cooking.  She has never trained professionally, but she has gained much experience in the field and her skills are undeniable.  She sits and listens to the chatter at breakfast, comfortable with pulling her knees to her chin and sipping at her coffee.  Once the others are finished eating, Robyn takes the dishes back to the kitchen and begins a wash up, carefully putting everything away where it goes.  Done with that chore, she asks if anyone minds if she showers and moves toward the bedroom.  On the way, she stops, feeling that something is amiss but not quite able to put her finger on what.  Carefully searching her mutated mind, she finally realizes what it is.  Moving to the mantel, she touches Al's bust and moves it back to where it should be, wishing that she could put her hands on the face of the real Al.

She steps back to observe her work and smiles at the effect.  Perfect.  As she heads to the bathroom, she calls over her shoulder, "Al, there are fags in the drawer of the table near you.  Help yourself to all you want as I have more."  Robyn disappears into her bedroom and closes the door before removing the robe and going to the shower.  She emerges feeling clean again and goes to the closet to take down a set of her Big Game Hunter armored clothing.  Once dressed, she returns to the main room and the others.

[adamu]

Some long ago sage had said that a way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. An equally timeless if rather less genteel admonition to women wanting to please a man took it a step further with: show up naked, bring food.
On either count, Robyn was the one to beat.
Al savored his English breakfast in silence, his interest in the upcoming matrimonial assist hovering somewhere below zero. He’d read up a lot on this degenerate underworld since his last visit, praying the knowledge would never come in handy. But he must have addressed his supplications to the wrong deity. So here he was. As such, he’d been able to provide a bit of textbook guidance on the legalities of the thing. But from there he was entirely at sea. And any constructive thoughts he did have were nearly drowned out by the pulsing in his temples whenever Robyn…well…whenever Robyn did pretty much anything at all.
He watched her clean up the kitchen – knew her place, he’d give her that – and then when she announced she was going to take a shower he lost all sense of reason and self-preservation and decided to follow her straight in there. He was just putting his hands on the edge of the table to push away when she put her hands on that eye-searing statue, and the spell broke with a resounding crash. There was no pause in his movement, but he went just far enough to reach the cigarette drawer she’d indicated.