end of the line (minderbinder and major mario)

[Minderbinder]

The rush of adrenaline, the feeling of sweat upon her brow as her fingers gripped tight the hilt of her blade, that cloying mixture of rage and fear alike that’d clouded her heart. Nimue Favarre had sacrificed everything for the sake of bitter justice, and yet in the end despite her attempts, it had all come for naught. She had failed, completely and utterly.

As she stirred from unconsciousness, body aching with the wounds from her past battle, the young woman’s emerald eyes would slowly part. A fierce pain pounded against her skull, pale features twisted into a faint wince as the sharp headache assailed her mind. She lay upon her back, body too weak to do much of anything. Not like it’d matter if she did have her strength. The young huntress was quick to realize that both her wrists and ankles alike were bound tightly. Cold, damp stone pressed against the thin cloth of her top. Stomach taught, limbs aching, her range of motion was woefully limited. She was trapped.

Doing her best to ignore her the throbbing skull she slowly blinked, the blurry mess of grays and blacks taking the form of a damp stone ceiling. Gently craning her neck as she best she could, Nimue would be quick to find that the rest of her surroundings were no more colorful. The room she was in consisted almost entirely of dour stone, a spacious cell where the only exit was blocked (surprise, surprise) by thick bars. A glance to the left and right would show that said room was almost entirely empty, the only distinguishing being the thick table of stone that Nimue herself lay on. Sticking straight out of the ground itself, the stone was was thick enough to hold the woman with room to spare. Thick leather bindings kept her tight against the smooth rock and, try as she might, they showed absolutely no signs of budging.

The woman herself had been stripped of anything that might resemble a weapon. Her bow and quiver were nowhere to be seen, her leather armor as well. Even the band that’d kept her hair tied back was gone, letting the mid-length blonde hair cushion her head. Her boots as well. She had naught more than a simple cotton shirt and slacks, both thin enough to where in an actual fight she might as well have been naked.

“Ugh.” Still nursing her headache, the girl’s lips clenched tightly. Testing the bonds one last time, wrists and ankles chafing, the young woman let out of a sigh as her attempt resulted in nothing. Body relaxing as best it could she slowly closed her eyes once more, chest rising and falling as she flexed trembling fingers.

What’s going to happen?

She had invaded the vampiress's domain, had broken through her defenses and had attempted to claim the woman’s head. She’d been soundly beaten in the attempt, to the point of where Nimue had assumed that she’d breathed her last then and there. Yet, here she was...alive.

How very merciful of her…

Her mouth twisted into a grimace, goosebumps crawling through her skin. Why was she alive? And why, oh why, did Nimue have the sinking suspicion that she was going to wish that she’d died back there?

 

[Major Mario]

Though Nimue had the honour and privilege of having her own dank cell- complete with a lantern no less- she was not alone down there. At times she would be able to see creatures moving about behind the bars. In the dark it was hard to discern what they were, but one could take a guess from the eerie, musical shuffling and creaking along with feral growls and huffs. Skeletal beasts were patrolling the corridors of this accursed place; mindless abominations driven by forsaken magic and someone's domineering willpower. Piercing blue eyes would peer into the cell from the darkness for a moment before they melted back into the shadows from whence they came. Even if Nimue somehow managed to break free of her bindings and pick her way out of the cell, she would be set upon by the undead.

A grisly grunt echoed through the bars as a death-hound with mangy fur came near only to be shooed away.

"Here boy," cooed a gentle voice. A figure approached in a blood red gown and reached out to pat the hound's misshapen head. "Sit. Ah, now there's a good boy. Just let me slip in, will you?"

And slip in this coy, mischevious vampire did. Maria Von Ende, the Ende Estate Vampire as she was known by the locals, filled the cell with her regal, terrifying presence. She purposefully ignored Nimue on the floor and made a show of silently critiquing the cell as she wandered around. Her fingers, nails painted a dark crimson, slid along slick stones while the click clack of her heels echoed throughout the dungeon. Maria whispered something incoherent before reaching for the solitary lantern and, with a smile spread across her lips, she tugged it up and set it on a chain high above Nimue so the cell was better, properly illuminated. Maria clasped her hands together and let out a low coo of fiendish delight as she got to see Nimue restrained on her back beneath her.

"Aren't you just precious. You look far too innocent to be wandering around swinging swords and making a terrible ruckus." The vampire flashed her white teeth as her smile widened, and with it came the appearance of sharp canines. She took a knee and slid down to a comfortable position near Nimue's head. "I was surprised to see you come defy me, especially given your appearance. Even more surprising; your courage, or should I say, your brazen stupidity."

Maria reached out with those slim fingers of hers and touched Nimue. The cotton shirt the girl wore was thin enough for her to feel the surprising warmth of the vampire's touch as Maria slid her fingers over Nimue's concealed navel, across her stomach and just under her breast before trailing back down. This was an action that would repeat a few times, but given that it was an action Nimue might just hate, the odds of it going unresisted were very low. In that case, if Nimue was to writhe and squirm against the vampire's touch, Maria would merely chuckle and look on as she awaited a reaction like a devilish scientist.