[b]Birsi[/b]

Cheeks flushed red, lips painted a deep jade green, and her hair ruffled out of position due to the brief and very one sided scuffle she was just a part of, Birsi did not look like she was going to actually handle these three Fire Wheels in a manner she could condone… But just as she was considering fouler tactics to uphold the peace and order within this holy place, a chance to change her fate appeared. Someone she knew, recognized, and had handled on a few occasions… As well as ‘been handled’ in turn by.

“Silsila Om.” The Guardswoman said with only a hint of disdain, despite her current predicament making her look absolutely ridiculous in appearance. After all, she was being held up by her belt and had only one glove on, the other no doubt in another Fire Wheel’s hand, dripping with her own spittle. “I believe these are your ‘Subordinantes’ for the time being?” She queried, no doubt earning an accidental/offhanded spank that made her seize for a second before resuming her speech. “I would like for you to make them cease their current actions, prepare themselves for transport down to the Slaving Quarters, and release me from this current predicament. However.” She took a deep breath, then focused her gaze into a glare of authority, of Challenge. “I, Royal Guard Birsi, challenge you to a duel for these actions to be done.” Hopefully Silsila accepted, as currently it wasn’t even like Birsi herself was much of a threat. After all, her sword was taken, her hands were cuffed, and clearly one of these other barbarians had smothered her face, judging by the hue of it. Would Silsila Om accept this odd challenge?

[hr][hr]

[b]Silisila Om[/b]

Om let her arms rest behind her head, her eyes flickering from Mele Vo to Emissa Vo to Birsi, back to Mele, then back to Birsi in a double-take, drinking in her appearance. "Wow, you two really did a number on Birse, didn't you?" Her arms wrapped around the duo, pulling them in snug on either side of her, and then she [b]squeezed[/b], forcing both bad girls to [b]squeak[/b] from the force of those muscular arms around them, crushed tight to her body, lifted up off their feet! "I know we like to mess with her, but she [b]is[/b] still Royal Guard. You two sure you can actually get away with this?"

Then those long ears of hers caught wind of Birsi's challenge, her golden eyes darting her way once again. "What, the Vo's? My subordinates?" She said, sounding amused--even as her fingers closed around the two gal's unprotected derriere's, making them [b]squeak[/b] and squirm into Om's body, faces both mashed into the Host's underarms. "Well, I'd like to think so, but they really aren't." She's grinning widely, though. "I suppose I could carry them over to Slaving Quarters for you, though."

Om opens her arms and drops them both to the ground, cracking her neck. "...If you beat me, that is. Like I'm going to let my fellow Fire Wheels get dragged off and enslaved just like that." A hand ruffles Mele's head, firm but affectionate, and enough to get a girl feeling all sorts of conflicted, tingly feelings. Silsila takes the time to undo Birsi's bindings, before stepping in front of her. "If I win, you have to give Mele, Emissa, and Ders a kiss apology for whatever it was you did to 'em, [b]and[/b] you're coming out with us tonight as our plus 1. We're gonna make sure everybody gets to see how the Fire Wheels party with the Royal guard."

The Host's hands reach up to her own vest, gripping the fabric firmly. Without apparent effort, she shreds her own top, letting her arms slide down to her side, barbarically exposed. Her fingers brush against her sword. "Otherwise, I tie you back up and let these three finish their makeover session. How's that sound, Bratty Birsi?"


[hider=My Hider]
Amping my Feral up to 2 by showing my passion, and using Big Dyke Energy to show I'm the baddest bitch in the room.
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