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In the middle of them stood a tall woman with long, flowing white hair. She wore a shiny silver, skin-tight combat suit that left very little to the imagination, but she didn’t seem like the type of person you could freely ogle without at least getting a few broken bones for your trouble. She barked out orders left and right, overseeing all operations to make sure that they ran smoothly in her presence.
Without warning, she spun on her heel, turning to face you and the guards escorting you through the place.
<span class="mu-s">“I presume you are this ‘Huntsman’ I’ve heard so much about?”</span> she asked, not wasting any time. She had a clear Symkarian accent that gave her commanding voice a…thrillingly exotic feel.
You raised an eyebrow at her. <span class="mu-r">“You’ve heard about me?”</span>
<span class="mu-s">“Of course. You are the one who stole our target away from us. Such a thing hasn’t happened in a very, very long time.”</span> she said, her voice teetering between amused and offended. "Not without repercussions, at least."
Damn. When were they going to let that go!?
And why did people only remember the bad shit? You’ve done good things, too. Just yesterday you saved a bunch of people from being eaten by giant mutant birds! Or…were they going to be turned <span class="mu-i">into</span> giant mutant birds?
Eh, the nuance of the Kingfisher’s plan was never truly clear to anyone other than himself, and he wasn’t conscious enough to explain it to you at the time.
You were about to open your mouth to reply, when you noticed some of the other mercenaries staring at you. Either they’d overheard your conversation, or they recognized you from a description given by other members of the Wild Pack. Most of them weren’t wearing masks, either, so you could see their contemptuous glares perfectly fine.
<span class="mu-s">“Perhaps we should hold this meeting in my office.”</span> Sable suggested, before walking towards the stairs without waiting for confirmation from anybody. You tried VERY hard not to admire Silver’s shapely backside on the way up. You had a feeling that no one here would appreciate it.
Slowly, the formation wordlessly broke apart as the rifleman remained at the bottom of the stairs, and the shield-bearers stopped at either side of the door to what you suspected was Sable’s office. Only the melee unit followed you inside, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the back of your head as Sable sat down at a shockingly mundane office desk. When you remained standing, she extended a hand towards a chair.
<span class="mu-s">“Sit.”</span> she said, more as a command than an offer.
You didn’t like it, but seeing as how you were trying to get into her good graces, you sat down without protest.
<span class="mu-s">“So,”</span> she continued. <span class="mu-s">“What is it you’ve come to discuss?”</span>
(Cont.)
