Pristine tessellate surrounded them, perfect in their alignment; only the barest spaces between them. Most of North City's innards were like that, orderly and bathed in a pallid light. This room, however, served as the Duke's forum for public displays of varying degrees of civility. It was massive, compared to most other compartments of the compound; each laced together by orderly corridors, opening up, at least on this level, into the Merchants' Square. She was uncomfortable here, be it within this particular room, surrounded by the elite of North City...or within its depths, lounging with the Soldiers or Workers. The large chambers all looked the same, deviations only present within living quarters and other designated areas.
Those squares took each surface, save for a small black spot in the middle the created rounded edges of the otherwise eerie placement. People seemed to avoiding standing on or directly over the divides, relegating those gathered within to small bunches within their boundaries. Cherry was on the left side of the room, leaning against a white, slick tile with her hands on her hip; her eyes trailing down from the high ceiling to focus herself, again on . There were others there, others that had been gathered for the next Immortal hunt. Group Wild the Duke had called it, though she couldn't have fathomed why. Sure, she was the first to be recruited; but the outlaw hardly felt of-the-caliber to be leading those she'd briefly, though some she was already familiar with, met before being brought here at the Duke's 'request'.
He's got a show planned, that's for sure. Dunno why I gotta be here, though, Cherry allowed herself, despite knowing full-and-well the reason she had accepted this man's request. Even if the money weren't so good, or the possibilities of acquiring resources for her 'dying family' weren't outstanding, she would have come. North City was a place of legends, on the outside; and from what she had seen, most of the legends were embellished beyond belief. There were no pillars of gold, or strange, ghostly beast-guards roaming its myriad halls. It was far different from the ramshackle hive-ghettos and the slapped-together dives that dotted the landscape. Despite her initial disappointment, though, the last two days she'd spent here, since having her ass thoroughly whipped by some lanky prick with a hundred chains and a bag-fetish, were thoroughly enjoyable; but, of course, she had only been in the upper levels.
There was no doubt about that, either. All around here were the upper echelons of the Duke's 'court'. Nobles, Artisans and Merchants stood in a large crowd; near the southern exit of the large chamber, lingering about the massive metal doors that had been slid shut. A few faces she recognized, but others, she didn't. They were arranged to have to stare up at the Duke's 'throne', a thing wrought of some shiny black material that Wild had never seen anywhere else. He, and it, sat far across the room, on a raised dais. Where the tiled walls and floor were their glaring white, his throne was a sharply hewn splotch of midnight in their midst. His eyes had fallen on her, she felt, but drifted over to a few of the others. She couldn't hazard a guess as to what he really thought of them...but she knew damn well how she felt about the man.
Guess I couldn't say no, though, could I?
The Duke, to Cherry, was an imposing, prolific figure. An attractive monster. He stood easily two feet taller than her, and had the shoulder-span of a mutated bear. He kept himself clean, however, wearing his royal vestments with pride; a tight-fitting shirt and lavish trousers...and a purple-sating cape. His hair was lightly oiled, dark as night and kept at medium length, stopping just at a jawline that made her distantly uncomfortable in the best of ways. His amber eyes, however, were the most arresting thing about him. Fierce and predatory, when he was angry...placid and placating when he spoke kindly to his troubled subjects.
Not the kind of man I'd take to bed for more than a night, that's for sure.
Many things about him made her uncomfortable, beyond his incredible physique and the power he wielded within North City. The man called 'The Doctor' who always seemed to be in the shadows at his side was only one of them; a scrawny thing in a white coat, on the short side, no hair to speak of and spectacles that revealed nothing of his eyes. His way of handling dissent and crime was another. It was the last that had brought her here, today, along with several others that were to be a part of her next expedition. A display, Wild figured, for the newcomers...and a reminder to his people.
Wonder if he's sending us after Rattling, again? Maybe I'll have better luck with these guys he's rounded up, even if I'd prefer some of 'em stayed the hell away...but...
They stood in what was called 'the Court', a room of pristine tiled floors and a high ceiling; decorated with ragged banners displaying the semblance of their leader, his looping-knot crest and littered with an entire squad of armed and armored guards. Apparently, the guards of North City were more a military force than a simple organization of patrolmen. She had heard them called different things, but most of the names seemed inadequate; Cherry thought of them as 'Attack Bugs', clad as they were in a type of armor that reminded her highly of the chitinous bits on an insect. They seemed like shadows, though, quiet, efficient and at-the-ready lingering about the edge of the crowd of Nobles and Artisans who had gathered to witness the punishment of a girl named Sara Ashaiin. Cherry didn't know what the girl had done, beyond a few brief whispers she had picked out, but had a feeling that her punishment was going to be harsh.
Though Wild Cherry had been avoiding it, she looked upon the 'criminal' with a slight smile on her face.
Sara stood naked in the center of the room, shame reddening her face, her arms and legs bound with lengths of something akin to chains; flanked on either side by one of the Duke's guard. Within the discolored circle of black that ruined the otherwise stark-white squares, she looked to be a fragile creature; frightened and alone. A pretty girl, if Cherry had ever seen one; though she doubted that look would hold up for much longer.
The Duke, sitting on his throne, rose slowly, shifting a shoulder so his cape would fall away. The Nobles and Artisans who had been speaking quietly, before, fell gravely silent. They knew that he would soon speak. For a long moment, though, he eyed them all. Sara, the Nobles and the others who had been gathered there.
"Today, my friends, is a grave day. Sara Ashaiin, who some of you may know as Merchant Ashaiin's beloved daughter, has broken one of the most sacred rules of North City," a collective murmur coursed through the crowd, "she was caught consorting with one of the Casteless Diggers, ignoring her father's wishes, the laws of my city...and placing herself in the very heart of danger. It is by her good father's will, to preserve the honor of his family...and my love for justice that this punishment is to be." The Duke's voice was smooth and smoky, like whisky pouring over fine cloth. His face showed regret, but Cherry felt it was just for show. The Nobles, however, seemed to be eating it up. She shifted on her feet, crossing her arms across her stomach; fingers tentatively touching along Crybaby's handle.
"No! I was bringing them food, there was nothing more! Father, please-!" Cherry traced her eyes to a squat, corpulent man who quivered in the group; turning his face away as though hiding. Sara had no chance to continue however, the butt of an Attack Bug's gun striking her squarely in the chest. A strangled cry escaped her and she attempted to crumple, but the Bugs did not allow it; hoisting her up before her knees had even made contact with the ground.
The Duke's expression did not change, his eyes focused on the scene before him. He lifted a hand, slowly, fingers stretched out over the crowd.
"The punishment for such trespasses, for the wasting of our precious supplies on the Casteless, is death," his voice was powerful, but not raised, easy to hear for all those who stood within the Court, "but...I have listened to the cries of Merchant Ashaiin. I have heard his grief. The sorrow he holds for your misdeeds and the love he bears for you has touched me." He took slow strides from his raised seat, descending the steps without a care. "Sara Ashaiin. The Nobles have demanded your death. Your father has requested it be but your blood." He was standing before her now, a hand resting lightly against her face, his voice a whisper that somehow still carried throughout the room. "Let it not be said that I am unmerciful."
The statement hung in the air, and Cherry felt an electric anxiousness rising in her; but she remained still, watching and waiting. The Duke slowly removed his hand from the girl's face, taking a few steps back and casting a glance at the circle she had been forced to stand in. Then, with a small exhalation, one that Cherry thought sounded almost too gentle, the Duke continued.
"You will be whipped. Forty lashes for the supplies you wasted and five more for traveling to the Depths Below to consort with the Diggers. Those who stand here will witness your punishment so that it may not be said that you were not granted mercy for your ignorance."
Cherry twitched. She had been subjected to something much the same, when she had been caught stealing from a Merchant just a few months prior. Her scars had been cured by the Druids who had taken her in, shortly after; but Sara Ashaiin would not be so lucky, Cherry figured. She'd been through something similar, again, more recently; though it had been Rattling Jormungand and his surprisingly alacratic chains...wounds once again soothed by the Druids. She shook the thought and focused, again, on the scene before her.
As Wild Cherry looked on, the Duke made a quick motion with his left hand and a soft mechanical whirring started, originating from the black circle surrounding the girl about-to-be-flogged. What followed was quick and surprisingly loud compared to the initial whir. Unseen before, crystalline veins pulsed to life. They ran in a complex pattern across the umbral circle, but the energy its self raced outward; seeming to originate from the girl's bare feet. As the azure glow touched black fringe, the circle seemed to open up; four monolithic crescents, looking much akin to the material of the Duke's throne, shot upward with a noise that Cherry would've pegged for a gunshot, had she not seen them.
Sara had time to let loose half-a-scream before the arcs closed in on her; entombing the girl and shooting an uneasy silence through the crowd. Before, they had seemed to be amused. Some still did, smiling toward the cylinder that now occupied the center of the room. Cherry smiled, as well, a smile of disgust that she couldn't fight down. Something was happening inside the strange cage, something that sounded like an angry swarm of Asinda; rapid thudding and muffled cries of pain.
"Group Wild," the Duke turned away from the ongoing, unseen punishment, and began walking away, his footsteps measured and his bearing regal, "accompany me to my chamber. I have a need to speak with the lot of you."
Cherry kicked off the wall, letting her arms fall to her side and followed along; taking note of the movements of some Bug Guard as they took up their standard formation.
