The caper packed up nicely : girls, stage effects; egg-chairs all vanished neatly within the stage as it reconfigured back into its cargo pod form. Wandblume unhurriedly toggled the power-skid’s G-canceler ; aligned her payload towards the entrance. She waved a jaunty farewell at the two wincing, standing women watched the proceedings with warring expressions : one vexed, the other somewhere in between taken aback and taken with.
Vexed, it was probably Mikuru but Wandblume hadn’t done enough homework to be sure, ejaculated incredulously : “You’re just going to waltz off the station?”
Wandblume grinned the grin of avian-suffused cats : “With the two of you conducting the orchestra!” Wandblume’s sinister hand hovered over the gimmick that had ‘sealed’ the chamber. “Unless you don’t want the time to come up with a better scenario than the one that just occurred! Wakatta?” (‘Understand’ but in the wrong--past--tense : Shego’s using her flawed Japanese lessons from watching the Über-cool Kill Bill Vol. 1)
Mildly miffed Yayoi mumbled, “???.” (Wakaru.)
Wandblume wasn’t actually certain what that meant, but given maybe-Mikuru’s look of grudging submission it was probably some form of unhappy Japanese acquiescence.
“Sayonara!” Shego actuated--turning things on is so Twentieth Century!--her toy ; made her egress between the cinematically sedate cargo doors.
“Yayoi, we’re really letting her go?”
“We’re not letting her go, Mikuru : our reputes are.”
“??”(Nanda) Tanned, out of her shell ; dealing with the self-discovery of a not all together wholesome fetish, the lass named Mikuru was a mess.
Yayoi quirked an enigmatic look at her partner as the Brobdingnagian portal hissed melodramatically closed. The glacially crystalline aspect of her grey matter, her inner Moriarty, succinctly & dispassionately considered the viability of her partnership with one that could be so easily plumbed.
“Don’t worry, Mikuru we’ll see [your Mistress] her again. I promise you! I don’t like loose ends!” She instantly regretted that particular turn of phrase as it reminded her of own, decidedly not loose, end.
*****
The only real risk to Wandblume’s egress through the L5 superstructure arose from her own near inability to keep her sense of triumph from seething and spurting through a barely maintained frosty facade. She received some strange looks from passersby whom, after the fact, remembered an attractive, oddly gay greenish girl with enough luggage for a platoon of colonial marines. A blue border collie gave her a happy bark and tail wag as it proceeded past her on its quadruped route towards some bit of doggy L5 business. Wandblume came very close to blurting out , ‘What’s that, girl : Timmy’s down the gravity well?’She barely got by the blandly boring L5 egress security check. The pressurized hiss marking Envy’s atmospheric independence from the larger station cued Wandblume’s victorious touchdown dance.
She released the girls from the pod ; favored Stygia with an arch grin.
“Love at first smite, girl!”
Stygia, for all of her gothic lassitude, blushed a fetching, if somewhat languorous, full bodied carmine.
Vexed, it was probably Mikuru but Wandblume hadn’t done enough homework to be sure, ejaculated incredulously : “You’re just going to waltz off the station?”
Wandblume grinned the grin of avian-suffused cats : “With the two of you conducting the orchestra!” Wandblume’s sinister hand hovered over the gimmick that had ‘sealed’ the chamber. “Unless you don’t want the time to come up with a better scenario than the one that just occurred! Wakatta?” (‘Understand’ but in the wrong--past--tense : Shego’s using her flawed Japanese lessons from watching the Über-cool Kill Bill Vol. 1)
Mildly miffed Yayoi mumbled, “???.” (Wakaru.)
Wandblume wasn’t actually certain what that meant, but given maybe-Mikuru’s look of grudging submission it was probably some form of unhappy Japanese acquiescence.
“Sayonara!” Shego actuated--turning things on is so Twentieth Century!--her toy ; made her egress between the cinematically sedate cargo doors.
“Yayoi, we’re really letting her go?”
“We’re not letting her go, Mikuru : our reputes are.”
“??”(Nanda) Tanned, out of her shell ; dealing with the self-discovery of a not all together wholesome fetish, the lass named Mikuru was a mess.
Yayoi quirked an enigmatic look at her partner as the Brobdingnagian portal hissed melodramatically closed. The glacially crystalline aspect of her grey matter, her inner Moriarty, succinctly & dispassionately considered the viability of her partnership with one that could be so easily plumbed.
“Don’t worry, Mikuru we’ll see [your Mistress] her again. I promise you! I don’t like loose ends!” She instantly regretted that particular turn of phrase as it reminded her of own, decidedly not loose, end.
*****
The only real risk to Wandblume’s egress through the L5 superstructure arose from her own near inability to keep her sense of triumph from seething and spurting through a barely maintained frosty facade. She received some strange looks from passersby whom, after the fact, remembered an attractive, oddly gay greenish girl with enough luggage for a platoon of colonial marines. A blue border collie gave her a happy bark and tail wag as it proceeded past her on its quadruped route towards some bit of doggy L5 business. Wandblume came very close to blurting out , ‘What’s that, girl : Timmy’s down the gravity well?’She barely got by the blandly boring L5 egress security check. The pressurized hiss marking Envy’s atmospheric independence from the larger station cued Wandblume’s victorious touchdown dance.
She released the girls from the pod ; favored Stygia with an arch grin.
“Love at first smite, girl!”
Stygia, for all of her gothic lassitude, blushed a fetching, if somewhat languorous, full bodied carmine.