-One Week Following Drowning Wench Encounter-
Melodia laid the knife onto the table with a straight face, missing any expression of glee, fear, or otherwise. She looked at the assortment of instruments there and wondered why Ramsay's influence was still so strong when she had hated him so much.
Small to medium sized hammers next to two different daggers and a small asortment of knives. A chain sat at the end and she stood from her kneeling position, looking at herself in the mirror, adorned in a black tunic and dark gray pants. Not the typical uniform for a Yellowjacket.
But tonight she was off duty and was no Yellowjacket. She was her old self again. The woman she'd left behind on that beach among the dead. And tonight she was going to show Kink that she was not some pushover in a bar...not some confused woman with an addled brain.
With that, she stepped out of the apartment, prepared for her second meeting with the runner.
Melodia laid the knife onto the table with a straight face, missing any expression of glee, fear, or otherwise. She looked at the assortment of instruments there and wondered why Ramsay's influence was still so strong when she had hated him so much.
Small to medium sized hammers next to two different daggers and a small asortment of knives. A chain sat at the end and she stood from her kneeling position, looking at herself in the mirror, adorned in a black tunic and dark gray pants. Not the typical uniform for a Yellowjacket.
But tonight she was off duty and was no Yellowjacket. She was her old self again. The woman she'd left behind on that beach among the dead. And tonight she was going to show Kink that she was not some pushover in a bar...not some confused woman with an addled brain.
With that, she stepped out of the apartment, prepared for her second meeting with the runner.
