Knock the wind out and the sense in

[Armide Maddrell]

Drunks, public fornication, deafening music. This place looked promising.

Her hands smoothed down the layers of fluffy krynolin that made up her skirt, as she flicked her hair off her shoulder and strode toward the front door of the club. Inside, the air was hot and filled with smoke, making anything not directly in front of you somewhat hard to see.

However, this didn't stop Armide from shoving her way through the tightly packed crowd, to the bar. She grinned up at a surprisingly attractive bartender and ordered her drink, having to shout above the music for him to understand. In just a few moments, a Vasarian Brandy was set down on the counter. The girl shot it back, paused to let the burning in her throat fade, and disappeared back into the crowd.

In no time at all, she was in the middle of the dance floor, twisting and turning with the music, her hands high above her head, hips swaying side to side. Every so often, someone, be it male or female, would come up and start dancing with her. She didn't pay much attention to them, though.

All of a sudden, she stumbled and nearly lost her balance. Spinning around, her eyes stopped on a female figure. While it was most likely Armide had crashed into her, the girl wouldn't acknowledge the possibility. In her mind, her faulter was anyone's fault but her's.

"Watch where you're going, you frelling Bantha dren!" She barked, glaring at the woman.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Milivikal's sense of rythm and timing were, simply put, borderline impossible. The girl that had bumped her was on the cusp of adulthood, but clumsy. Mili didn't mix dance and drink in public for many reasons. Clubs could be dangerous places.

"Watch where you're going, you frelling Bantha dren!"

She opened her eyes at the insult. Vicet's Siren much prefered to dance with her eyes closed. She could hear where everyone was better that way. Pale blue blue green irises that nearly glowed in the low light. She flashed a smile, slipped into the crowd for a brief moment, and was behind the girl. Mili bumped her hips gently against the girls.

"Or you'll do what, whelp?" The voice seemed to be scarely above a whisper, but Armide could hear it perfectly. A soft laugh wove through the air. It was playful.

[Armide Maddrell]

"I could make those pretty eyes of yours into earrings.." She growled the response. Alcohol made her dangerous, though, more often than not, she was only dangerous to herself. Even when she wasn't intoxicated, Armide was quick to fight. This would be no different.

Stepping in front of Milivikal, she stood with her hands poised, her stance tense and ready to spring into action. There was a snarl curled on her red-painted lips, and an icey glare in her eyes that would almost made her seem like a threat to most. Almost.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"You boast too much for an angry drunk girl." Physically, k'Vik wasn't much older, maybe five or six years.

"If you want a fight, I'll give one." She sounded amused. Mili's perfect rythm, and years of dance experince, and more recent combat experince made her a unfair opponet, especially for a drunk girl.

"I'd rather dance with you, though." The girl was cute when she was defiant.

[Armide Maddrell]

A smart person would accept the offer. A decent person would forget about fighting. A nice person would even try apologise. However, Armide was very rarely any of these things, and never more than one at a time. Nevertheless, this would not be one of those occurances. The alcohol in her blood had eradicated what little common sense she had, and her mind to foggy to pay attention to the instinctive signals that this woman was not to be messed with.

While there was an infinite number of things to say that could make the situation better, there were far less that could make it worse, than what next came out of her mouth:

"You old, ugly bantha. I wouldn't dance with you if my life depended on it"

Each word was crisp and cold, her voice so clear it seemed the only sound in the galaxy.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"It does now, you silly girl."

She darted forward. The tip of Milivikal's fingers kissed Armide's cheek with a gentle tap.

"I can dance any way you want to, in your blood or your love. Surely you'd rather have my hands betwix your legs than your eyes." The Siren grinned wickedly.

Armide growled, and threw a punch, which Mili simply danced aside from.

[Armide Maddrell]

"Not in a million lifetimes," she hissed through clenched teeth. The grace with which her first attack had been dodged should have been sign enough that she was in over her head. But, then, Armide had never been known for her brains.

With a girlishly primal yell, she dove for Milivikal...and promptly crash-landed onto several of the club's patrons. Hungry for bloodshed, though not caring whose, the crowd that had developed around the two lifted Armide back up and shoved her towards the woman.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"You're a pretty face, girl, I'd not like to break it." Armide charged again. Mili lunged forward, and brought her elbow into her throat.

The girl fell to her knees, and Milivikal grabbed ahold of her hair, dragging her twoards the side enterance. She kicked the door open, and shoved Armide out into the dingy alley. The club was not in the best part of this city, but not the worst, either. Most of the rubbish on the ground was paper or plastic, bottles and advertisements.

Mili hummed, the noise seemed to resonate in the girls bones.

"So, brat, you still want to fight? If you don't start to do better, I might grow bored and slice your slender throat open, and dance in your blood." A dagger floated out of the Siren's boot. Milivikal hummed and the blade sang briefly.

[Armide Maddrell]

Cringing as she pushed to her feet, Armide brushed herself off. Simply falling had given her a few scrapes, though she paid no attention to them. Her mind was focused on something much more important.

Looking toward Milivikal, her eyes narrowed. She started walking toward her, but stopped when she saw the silvery glint of the dagger. Even drunk, Armide was smart enough to know that, her attacks having done nothing, she would not survive the fight with this opponent armed.

Unfortunately, these doubts were nothing but a fleeting thought.

She darted into action, stooping down within a foot of the woman, and spun, her left leg stretched out to knock her over.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Mili's force aided backflip brough her well out of range of the kick. She landed in a neat crouch. With praticed precision, she brought the dagger level with her head, and threw it into the girl's left arm just below the shoulder. The blade hummed, eating through the flesh and bone like a vibroblade, stopping once the blade ran out. It was burried all the way to the handle.

[Armide Maddrell]

A shrill yelp echoed down the thin alley as Armide doubled over on her knees. Her palm was pressed to her shoulder, her forehead touching the ground. While she had been in fights before, this was her first real injury. She rarely minded pain, but she had never experienced a pain such as this.

Gritting her teeth, she took in a couple gulps of air and straightened up. Her left arm was wrapped half-way around her waist; a simple attempt at keeping it out of use, as well as harm's way.

Her eyes ran along the ground, her right hand resting on a bit of broken pavement. She let her gaze drift along Milivikal's legs, wandering up to finally reach her face. With a grim mix between a smile and a frown, she spoke, though quietly, defeated.

"Nice move..." She began, her fingers curling into a loose fist. "You'll have to do better than that, though." Grasping a handful of gravel, Armide launched it through the air, aiming for her opponent's face.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"BITCH!" She screeched. The word went through Armide's body like an electic shock, the sound of it pulsed from the dagger, into the girl's bones. Mili's eyes snapped shut, but not in time to keep the dirt out of them.

Armide's limbs flailed randomly while her skeletal nervous system misfired from the sonic interference shaking her bones. Mili furiously rubbed her eyes, growling.

"StTTtttuuuuuppPpiiiiid gggggiiiiirrrRRRrRrRRRRrllll." The Siren watched with red, irritated eyes as Armide's body twitched.

[Armide Maddrell]

Tears stung her eyes as she prayed silently, to whatever god would listen, that this pain would cease. Her voice was trapped in her throat, so she couldn't even scream. Armide tried desperately to block out the voice, though to no avail. She clenched her eyes shut, welcoming the numb bliss of the unconscious.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

She awoke tied to the corners of a bed. The room was dim, but she could see the pale eyes in the dark. The dagger had been removed from Armide's arm. The flesh blackend where it used to be, cauterized shut. It would scar.

Mili sat crosslegged at the foot of the bed. When she saw Armide's eyes, she crawled on all fours over the girl's body. The Siren leaned down, Mili's soft black jaw length hair falling into the girl's face.

"Whats your name, pretty girl?" She asked in a whisper.

[Armide Maddrell]

For a moment, the girl, for the life of her, could not remember how to speak. It took even longer for her to recall all that happened. Her body was still sore, though part of that could have been stiffness from being trapped in the same position for who knows how long. Although, these aches were minor compaired to the relentless throb of her temples.

Groaning, she tried to move, her hands straining just momentarily against her binds. She blinked a few times, getting her eyes to focus, and stared up at the woman. In her hazel eyes, her fear was obvious.

With somewhat of a tired rasp, she muttered her answer, "Armide"

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"Armide." The Siren repeated, and stradled her while she ran her hands gently up and down the girl's sides.

"Mmmhmmm. Mine is Milivikal." She smiled, clean white teeth from between pale lips, and looked down at her. She could hear her quick breathing, and the terror in her eyes.

"You're not as dumb as I though, just a drunk girl. But so angry." Mili ran a neatly manicured fingernail from beside Armide's eyes down to her jawline, and tapped her chin softly with her finger.

She began to hum, and started to speak. Her voice was sweet and smooth, but dark, like polished obsidian. There was more than a hint of danger in it. The "so you were Queen of the Brats, the club brawling little bit." Mili reached back and slapped the girl's inner, upper thigh.
"You liked to pound on your sisters and brothers, the same spoiled brat pup brood you came from."

"I come from different stock, Brat Queen, mmhmmmm. I was a Jedi once, their little songbird, singing tunes for them. But their songbird found talons." The daggers floated up from beside the bed, and the Siren reached her arms straight out, taking them into her hands. She held her arms in the same poistion as she continued.

"Tell me, Brat Queen Armide, why I shouldn't slit your lovely neck open, and drink your blood with my vodka?"

[Armide Maddrell]

Despite her fear, Armide managed to stare straight into the woman's eyes and laugh, just barely. When she spoke, her voice was calm, though the nervous undertone was still there.

"...Because then what would you do? Drink my blood? Dance in it? That's bound to get boring after a while.."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

The left blade flashed in the dim light. It plunged down, and into...

...it felt like her throat had been slashed open. Milivikal's fingernails had dug in, while the 25 centimeter dagger handle protruded from the bed.

Armide's heart thudded rapid fire, one hundred and sixty beats per minute. The Siren withdrew her fingernails. The tips were coated in blood.

On the nightstand stood a bottle and a pair of shotglasses, filled. Mili took one, opened her jaw, and poured it in. Armide felt the woman's firm dancer-legs tighten around her waist as the toxic alchohol sloshed into Milivikal's stomach. She arched her head back, and a noise halfway between a goan and a moan emitted from the Siren's mouth.

Mili leaned forward--her tounge, coated in alchohol, burned against Armide's wounds.

"So, Queen Armide, have you ever danced in someone's blood? I assure you, its quite entertaining, if sticky." She didn't give the girl a chance to answer.

"Whhhhyy why shouldn't I dance in yours?" Milivkal's breath was hot against the girl's neck. She gave it a light kiss.

[Armide Maddrell]

Her eyes shut tight as she swallowed back the lump in her throat. Her hands twisted against the ropes holding them, writhing with the urgent need to be free.

"Well..." She began, pausing to utter a small cry as Milivikal's tongue stung at her throat again. "...What kind of dance are we talking here? Certainly not a trot or a jog... A polka may be fun, but you wouldn't want to admit that to your friends..."

She was stalling, it was obvious. But, there was nothing else she could do. To bow down and submit would never be an option.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"I asked you a question, Brat Queen." she growled, bolted upright and slapped Armide with the her free hand.

"Don't stall. Why would your life be worth anything to anyone?" Milivikal's body was tense. She was squeezing Armide's sides with her legs, and glaring down with ice cold pale blue eyes.

[Armide Maddrell]

"It shouldn't be," Armide mumbled, turning her gaze away from Milivikal for a moment. Her cheek stung, her throat hurt, and she was getting tired of this argument. It seemed anything she said would result in more pain.

Looking back up towards her capter, she thought for a moment.

"But... Neither should yours. Or anyone's. We're pathetically miserable creatures, you know? No right, no reason to live or stay living... And yet we do.

"Would you like me to say 'Thanks so much, teacher, I've really learned my leason'? Or that my life isn't worth dren?"

Armide sneered lightly. "Well too frelling bad. Kill me if you want... Perform an entire ballet in my blood... In the end, no body will care, and you would have proven absolutely nothing."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"No one will care because you haven't made yourself useful." Mili's voice was beggining to not be as crisp. The liqour was taking hold. Just enough to loose a bit of focus. Nevertheless, she sliced Armide's top open with surgical precision. The daggers were almost more familiar than her own body.

k'Vik watched Armide squirm with fascination, the muscle moving beneath her flesh. There was steel here that could be honed and harnessed. Mili put a hand on the girl's stomach, and stabbed the bed beside her head. Muscle tightended and writhed. Armide was a fighter, always. Almost as fast as the blade, she leaned down and kissed Armide lightly, even gently.

"You may not understand how things work, but you have spirit. I like that."

[Armide Maddrell]

Fear was finally taking its effect on Armide's mind, as she felt another injury sliced into her skin. Gritting her teeth, she wriggled as best she could, with her binds. No matter how much she talked, she would have to face facts - This woman was probably not letting her out of this alive.

When she felt the woman's lips, she froze. Having braced herself for more pain, she was faced with a startlingly tender gester.

Armide lifted her gaze to Milivikal's bright eyes, allowing her words to linger across her own thoughts. Finally, she spoke, though her voice croaked just lightly.

"What are you going to do with me, then...?"

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"Enjoy you." The daggers floated up, dropping onto the carpet at the foot of the bed. She kissed Armide's neck slowly before nipping at her ears. Dancer legs tightend around Armide's hips.

Mili moved her body against Armide's in a slow grind.

"Mmmmmwhat are you going to do with you?"