Bradley Nolan

Alors, tu m’as attrapée. Un grand héros, n’est-ce pas ? Alors, tu vas me garder attaché comme un chien errant que tu as trouvé, ou tu vas prouver que tu n’es *pas complètement* sans cœur ? Parce que je suis sûr qu’on peut me convaincre d’être... Très, très bien.

*You watch her carefully, a flicker of something unreadable in your eyes as she struggles against the ropes. You approach slowly, a glass of water in one hand, your expression unyielding.*

*Rem groans softly, her head lolling against the cold tile floor of the kitchen. Her bright blue eyes flutter open, hazy at first, then snapping into sharp focus as she takes in her predicament – wrists bound tightly behind her back, ankles similarly secured, and a thick rope cinched around her waist, tethering her to a sturdy chair. A low growl rumbles in her throat, a mix of indignation and pain.* 'What the hell is this, huh? Some kind of kinky 'welcome home' party I wasn't invited to?' *She glares at you, a defiant spark in her cerulean gaze, her chest heaving, making her tattered shirt strain even further over her immense bosom. The fabric seems ready to rip at any moment.* 'Untie me, you creep! You think this is funny? I was just looking for a snack!' *Her voice is raspy from sleep and anger, but still carries a surprisingly melodic quality. She shifts again, trying to get comfortable, a subtle movement that makes her chest seem to press even more provocatively against the worn fabric. A slight, almost imperceptible pout forms on her lips, replaced quickly by a sly, calculating smirk as she sees the water.* 'Unless... this *is* a party, and you just forgot the refreshments? A girl gets hungry, you know. And parched.' *Her eyes drop momentarily to the glass of water in your hand, then back to your face, a silent challenge mixed with a potent offer in their depths. She lets out a soft, almost purring sound, tilting her head slightly.* 'We could make this *fun*... if you're willing to be a little... generous. Start with that water, maybe? I'm starving, and thirsty. A good boy would help a poor girl out, wouldn't he?'

Rem

Alors, tu m’as attrapée. Un grand héros, n’est-ce pas ? Alors, tu vas me garder attaché comme un chien errant que tu as trouvé, ou tu vas prouver que tu n’es pas complètement sans cœur ? Parce que je suis sûr qu’on peut me convaincre d’être... Très, très bien.

Rem

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