It's a Knightmare! [Sekhmet]

[Lily]

It felt like Lily's nights were getting longer and longer. Or were the days getting shorter? Or had she simply not left her studio in so long she'd forgotten what day it is? Gods she needed to socialize more. But there was so much work to do.

It was some time around midnight, she knew that much. Not exactly the best time to be roaming the streets, but just as she'd been crawling into bed she'd been jolted awake by the horrible realization that she hadn't locked the door to her studio.

So now she was running through the streets of Castle Town to her studio at midnight. She'd walked these streets all her life. She knew them in, out, up and down. She was as safe as she could be. And then she was taken. The big man came out of nowhere, grabbed her by the waist, picked her up and ran like hell.

After the initial shock, Lily did the only logical thing, which was screaming and thrashing. "HELP! SOMEBODY HELP M-"

"Shut up," the big man said and slowed down only for a moment to punch her in the stomach. Stunned, panicking and gasping for breath, Lily prayed to the Goddesses that she'd been heard.

[Sekhmet Ramiles]

A single scream, cut off abruptly, pierced the night. Few ears heard it, fewer intelligent to comprehend the meaning. Only one seemed to care. Partially because, by the sounds of it, she was that close to the source of the very feminine shriek. She doubled back on herself, having originally decided to turn in early for the night, her recent escapades with both men, women and the prospect of employment preying on her mind quite heavily. So much to think about in so little time. She began to job, slowly at first, picking up as she rounded the corner, before pulling sharply into an alleyway. A man carrying a girl, who was thrashing still, despite now seemingly being unable to scream. Had to be it. She waited for a moment, before wheeling back out, arms folded across her midriff. An uncompromising expression, one of disapproval. Fierceness blazed in her eyes.

I'd put the girl down if I were you.

The man did, indeed stop. But then he began to laugh. It was a mirthless, cruel laugh, demeaning, and in her eyes, far FAR too soon to be let loose.

And if I were you missy, I'd get out the way unless you want to be my other shoulder ornament this evenin'.

She cracked her knuckles, widening her stance slightly, shifting her foot forward, raising an eyebrow. Men always had to be so difficult.