Sable's Experiences

[Toaster]

July 22, 827 A.S.

The smell of aging, stained carpet was particularly pungent today - or perhaps it just seemed that way because she had been gone for a bit. Either way, Olivia tried to breath in as little of the musty, humid air as possible. Difficult, considering how much her lungs were begging for it after climbing up twelve flights of stairs. Of course, she thought to herself, panting, the elevators had to break down today. She limped towards her motel room door, the thought of a shower and a somewhat soft bed giving her the strength to overcome her exhaustion and discomfort. Finally in front of it, she reached out with her left hand to push the door open...

Only to find it already was. She sighed.

Stepping through, she flicked the light switch to the side of the door, bathing the room in the weak, orange glow of the slowly dying ceiling lamps. She glanced around, looking for the familiar but completely unwelcome shape of her employer. Her eyes landed on him, sitting at the small dinner table, a glass of water in hand, smiling at her a fake, unfriendly smile. Olivia lowered her hand towards the handgun strapped to her left thigh.

"I thought I was supposed to send you the footage," she muttered, looking more closely around the room, checking to see whether any of Pedro's henchmen were lurking in a dark corner. Pedro chuckled coldly.

"A little bird sang a song about you getting into some trouble in Kepler," he replied and raised his glass to his lips. "I wanted to make sure you got home safely." His eyes gleamed hungrily, like a jaguar eyeing its prey from under a brush. Olivia shuddered slightly. Outwardly, she remained calm, casually resting her hand on the grip of her pistol.

"As you can see, I'm fine."

Pedro placed his water back on the table and rose from his chair. Tucking his suit jacket back into shape, he sauntered over towards her, eyeing her up and down.

"Well, relatively," he spoke sarcastically. Then he reached one hand out towards her, open palm facing up. He raised an eyebrow and waited. Slowly, Olivia reached into a pocket of her borrowed flightsuit. Inside it she felt the small camera she had used to record her assassination of Juan Perno. However, her fingers also sensed something else within, something she hadn't noticed when she first donned the suit. She glanced down, confused, then caught herself and produced the camera. Pedro's eyes shifted down towards it as she pulled it out and placed it in his hand.

"There," she spat. "For your viewing pleasure." The man closed his fist around the small device and smiled coldly at her again.

"Well done, my dear. Now, you've earned yourself some rest. And you certainly look like you need it." He strode past her towards the door, pausing in front of it. He glanced over his shoulder. "Until next time." Then he departed, closing the door behind him.

Olivia was left alone in her room, feeling every bit as exhausted and battered as her body was. She limped over to the dinner table and dropped down into the other chair. She let out a long breath, letting her body sag together. Her limbs ached, her throat was sore, and the haphazardly stitched-up wound in her shoulder still shot occasional waves of stinging pain through the right side of her body. More than anything, however, she felt like she could sleep for days. But, before she could do that, she had to inspect something.

She reached into her pocket again and extracted the small, metallic object she had noticed within. It looked like a token one would attach to a keychain, a small, red serpent, coiled together. The flared neck made it look like an angry cobra.

Cobra, Olivia thought at the sight of it. She tilted her head, curious. It must have been Damian's. Did he leave it in the flightsuit for her to find? If so, why? Her tired mind ground to a halt. "Tomorrow," she muttered as she placed the small trinket on the table before her. Then she rose from the chair, lumbered across the room to her bed, and let herself fall into it. Sleep overcame her in an instant.

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Olivia Sable