Well this had gotten into a larger clusterfuck than the Palace of Pleasure quicker than she could blink. Having recovered from being violently slammed into a wall, and now with her hands on her weapon once more, she would watch as her assorted ‘colleagues’ threw themselves into the fight. Her eyes, warp-tainted as they were, caught a glimpse of shapes moving through the sky, and then mutants would fall like wheat to the scythe. They had unexpected allies it seemed.

Kotys would instinctively duck as the lumbering figure of Minos quite literally bulldozed out into the lines of the foe, his bellowed words causing an almost primal shudder to run through her spine. Although her lungs were significantly smaller, she would let out a cry of her own, the words piercing the air. 

[i]”INTO THE PRINCE’S PERFECTION!”[/i] As she spoke, she would flick her wrist out, her walking cane’s hard casing collapsing up into a hilt and unveiling a long, slender blade. She would run the edge of it along the back of her hand, watching as crimson welled up and pain blossomed through her system. Yes... This would be perfect. 

Another twist of the wrist and the blade would light up with sparks. Even she knew that ‘trialling’ this on herself would be foolish, instead giving the weapon it’s final prod, the seemingly solid form of the weapon falling apart into a lethal tangle of electrified, murderously sharp wire.

She moved into the battle with a graceful sprint. Her first foe came at her, a putrid wretch more mutant than man, ugly, misshapen and malformed. She would flick her arm out almost casually, the wire spinning towards him, near invisible in the darkness. The brute came at her, hacking wildly with a rusted and pitted blade but she moved with litheness and grace, twisting out of the way and bringing her arm down... and with it the lethal line.

With a pirouette that would make any pleasure world dancer proud she would weave the wire around her foe, and then with one action snap the net around him. He stiffened, the electricity coursing through the metal keeping him still so that she could finish him more leisurely.

The same twist of her wrist that had turned her weapon into its current lethal spool could also condense it back into a sword, and that was exactly what she did, the motor in the hilt whirring as it encountered resistance. Lines of blood appeared across the wretch’s body as the metal bit in, and then with a last effort the tangled ends brought themselves together. 

Blood spurted out, flesh, muscle and bone all having been torn through, and Kotys would lick her lips, forked tongue scooping up lashings of crimson. As if to bring her out of her reverie at having done such a good job, she would narrowly avoid being trampled by Minos’ huge form, his swinging arms cleaving through six in the time it had taken her to do one.

At least hers had been a [i]beautiful[/i] kill.